Return of Emerald

Story: Return of Emerald

Storylink: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9608991/1/
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Adventure/Humor
Author: Bleu Tsuki
Authorlink: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/3878241/
Last updated: 04/16/2017
Words: 323005
Rating: T
Status: Complete
Content: Chapter 1 to 51 of 51 chapters
Source: FanFiction.net

Summary: COMPLETE Slytherin!Harry. When the BWL is discovered missing, no one thinks twice when Hasan Castell
appears at Hogwarts. Abandoned in a muggle orphanage, Harry grows up with a love of magic-in books that is-and
thinks sorcery is all in his dreams. He calls himself Hasan to separate his dreams from reality, and is adopted and
raised by a man who should be dead.HP/LL mentor!Snape
*Chapter 1*: Wild Eyes
Summary: When the Boy-Who-Lived is missing, no one thinks twice when Hasan Castell appears at Hogwarts.
Abandoned at a muggle orphanage, Harry grows up with a love of magic- in books that is- and thinks sorcery is all in his
dreams. He calls himself Hasan to separate his dreams from reality, and is adopted and raised by a man who should
be dead. AU. Slytherin!Harry.

Disclaimer: Jo owns all! I am but a humble author soaking up her glorious rays!

Author's Note: I've started this story on a muse. Something between MPD and an alias, and somewhat related to high-
functioning autism like Asperger's. I am no expert on this, but basically Harry will act more on his thoughts than his
feelings and may come off reserved or cold in his younger years.

Also: I pronounce Hasan like "Hay-sahn" or "Hei-san" for you anime lovers! (DTB) But really, anyway you like it is fine.

Enjoy!

"You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream."

- A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Return of Emerald

Chapter 1: Wild Eyes

He had wild eyes. A simmering, emerald green that practically glowed with power and danced with knowledge. He had a
handsome face too, with pale skin, pink lips, and gently arched eyebrows. The lady at the orphanage called him
ethereal, but Harry knew better. Fragility was only an appearance. He learned early on that survival demanded more than
a brain. The Dursleys hadn't particularly concerned themselves with his intelligence. No, he had to have something more
than his wits about him if he was to survive there. And this was when he had perfected the wonderfully useful art of
deception.

Harry lifted himself off of the thinning lawn, brushing dried grass from his second-hand jeans as he did so. It would be a
short journey back to Penelope's House, the orphanage in which the Dursleys had abandoned him when he was four.
Mrs. Haydn, the manager of the orphanage, would be cross with Harry should he come any later to dinner, and yet be
decidedly irritated should he come any sooner. Her reasoning was that Harry scared away potential parents if he hung
around the orphanage. Interested adoptive parents typically wanted younger children, and they'd feel pressured to adopt
Harry if he were present, right? And Harry surely wouldn't want to be taken out of guilt, would he? And so, Harry was stuck
outside for the most part of the day, subtracting mealtimes and when he had to go to bed. Though her pitiful justification
hardly convinced Harry, even he could not deny the fact that freaky things tended to happen around him. Like garden
snakes hanging around the back door, for instance, or having the entire hall suddenly clean when it was his turn to scrub
it, or summoning things so that he'd have them right beside him without even knowing how they got there. Mrs. Haydn
didn't say that this was the reason why she wanted him out, but she needn't have. Harry knew- everyone knew.

But why should he deny it? As long as he could control it. Why pretend things didn't happen when they did?...at least in
his imagination. Harry had a rather vivid imagination; at least, that's what Mrs. Haydn insisted. Sometimes he thought he
could see owls flying, despite it being the middle of the night, and sometimes he saw owl breeds whose natural habitats
were nowhere near London. When he told Mrs. Haydn, she said he simply dreamed of owls, and so, everything else that
was wonderful in the world, that only he could see or believe, well, those were dreams too.

Harry had previously been doing some quality daydreaming on Red Mill's Hill, smiling at the clouds that sifted past like
soulless specters keeping watch. He often came to the hill when Mrs. Haydn just couldn't take it anymore and demand
he get some fresh air for his own health- which was every day. Harry slipped his hands into his sweatshirt pocket- a gray
hand-me-down ten years in the lost and found bin- and shivered as a gust of cool November air hit him through his
clothes. It was only ten minutes until he reached the orphanage.

"Wonder if she's making something hot." Harry wondered to himself, pushing open the old crooked door. The building
didn't have a competent heater, but it was still warmer than it was outside. Entering the house, Harry basked in the flood
of warmth, taking his hands from his pockets because he knew that it made the other kids nervous if he had something
hidden in there. Kids could be really thick sometimes. Harry owned nothing to hide.

Further into the room, Mrs. Haydn was busying herself with the dinner preparations by setting the table for twenty-seven
little mouths. At the sound of the door opening, she looked up, graying hair falling into her eyes, to find Harry standing in
the doorway. For once, her heart didn't fall when it was Harry - she actually had something to say to the boy.

"Well come in, Harry, don't just stand there! You could help me with the bowls too. Here, take a stack." Her voice was
crackly from years of cigarette smoking, although she quit a while back because her doctor was a nag. Yet, she was
sixty-something, and fifty-something years of smoking did not leave your voice in peace even after you quit.

Registering her almost pleasant tone of voice, Harry gingerly approached the table before doing as bidden, drawing out
an almost satisfactory grunt from his supervisor. Mrs. Haydn wasn't a disagreeable person really, but something about
that Potter boy threw her for a loop. He seemed so odd- like he belonged in a completely different world- and she got the
oddest sensation of goose bumps when around him. She had told herself she was being silly before, but four years
after receiving the poor kid from his aunt and uncle, she was wholly convinced something was wrong with the boy.

For one, he didn't fit in. The other kids would listen to him like they would an adult- with a smidgen of respect that
amounted to nothing come another five minutes. He didn't play with the others, preferring to scamper off to god-knows-
where when she demanded he get up from his latest book and play. And that was another thing: the books! Penelope's
House was just down the road from the nearest 'library', and Harry frequented the place often. Which didn't alarm Mrs.
Haydn too horribly, for she knew Harry needed books to stimulate his young mind.

No, what bothered her most was the ab ility at which he read. Last week had been The Count of Monte Cristo, this week,
it was The Lord of the Rings. The child was eight. Eight for goodness' sake! Mrs. Haydn didn't know what to make of it. It
seemed impossible for him to understand everything, but he answered every question she threw at him- in an attempt to
get him to realize how little he truly did understand- and he answered them, even going insofar as to explain intricate
character personalities. Peeling away layer after layer of appearance versus internal personalities versus conception. If
anything, it only proved to show Mr. Haydn how little she understood Harry...and classic literature. She chalked it up to his
being a child prodigy- or having some high functioning autism of sorts, but still, even with that, something wasn't quite
right.

"Mrs. Haydn? Mrs. Haydn?" Harry asked politely, hesitating whether he should tap her or not. She had been
unresponsive for a few minutes, and Harry had half a mind to call the police.

"Yes, Mr. Potter? What is it?"

"The table's ready. Should I go and fetch the kids?" His language was much advanced too, Mrs. Haydn noted, very formal,
and he seemed to separate himself from the other kids too by referring to them in such an apathetic manner.

"In a minute, Harry. I've got to tell you something." She took a deep breath, wondering rapidly why it was that she was so
nervous. He was a kid after all, he couldn't detect her excitement.

"What?" Harry asked her with an innocently open face. But being around him for so long, Mrs. Haydn was able to pick up
the slight narrowing of his emerald eyes.

"There was a man who came today. He wants to adopt you!" she squealed happily.

Harry let his face go blank. No emotion. No emotion. Someone wanted him. There was hope. He wasn't forgotten. No
emotion. No emotion! "Um, Harry?" She knew that look and her eyes widened in fear. "Harry?"

And just like that, the moment was gone. She relaxed as the world fell back on its axis. But just for a moment, well, silly
as she was, she thought she felt a breeze. How silly! There was no wind in here!
"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Haydn. You were saying?"

"Well, yes. I was saying that someone wants to adopt you."

"Me?" Harry gasped, not even having to fabricate his astonishment. "Me?"

"Yes, you Harry." Mrs. Haydn smiled, and she thought she saw Harry's lips quirk up. That was good: if the boy wanted to
be adopted too, then things would go so much more smoothly...

However, Harry's thoughts were far from coinciding with her conclusions. Happy? Why should he be happy? At first,
maybe. But then he took a step back to analyze it, and suddenly, it made sense. Mrs. Haydn wanted to be rid of him. She
wanted it so badly she probably recommended him to every visitor who came. His eyes widened fractionally as he was
hit with another epiphany: He was being forced on someone. The man who came in today didn't really want him, and
once Mrs. Haydn was gone and rid of him, his new guardian would kick him out also, demanding a nicer child. One
without so many issues...Harry almost sniffled at this thought, but managed to keep his face schooled into a blank mask
of innocence. Practice made perfect, didn't it? Mrs. Haydn seemed to buy the act, for she visibly relaxed, her wrinkles
ceasing to crease quite so much on her forehead, and her shoulders sagged down.

Yes, this way it would be easier. If she thought he wanted to go, she wouldn't suspect a thing when he made a run for it.
With his plan firmly in place, he could only now hope that dinner would be as rewarding.

.oOo.

The next morning found Harry Potter wide-eyed and beaming at his soon to be ex-supervisor. All the younger kids were
still asleep and the older kids were already playing outside.

"Mrs. Haydn, I'm going to miss you. I appreciate your caring for me." Harry told her candidly, letting warmth flow through
his words. "But...could I have some time to say good-bye? Take back the Lord of the Rings book and say bye to Mr. Ted,
the librarian?" His eyes were docile now. A soft, tame sage that melted Mrs. Haydn's heart. How could she deny him?

"Alright..." she agreed with some reluctance, "but the man's coming in an hour, and something tells me he'll be quite
punctual. So be back by noon, got it?"

Harry nodded eagerly, booked tucked safely under his arm, and ready to leave this isolated world for good.

"I promise, Mrs. Haydn." he said, but smirked on his way out. How the lady could be so blind was beyond him! Honestly,
spending some quality time with the librarian? Who bought that crazy nonsense?

Harry held the book tighter in his hands; it was "The Return of the King" where Aragorn had taken back his rightful place
as king, amazing everyone as he had kept himself hidden under numerous alibis for the majority of his existence. He
was known as so many people, but Harry always thought of him as just Strider. Just that guy in the room that no one ever
thought to pay two thoughts to... He was Harry's idol.

The book he held was worn from countless readings, a hard-back with a scratched off cover and imprinted title that was
losing its ink. But Harry didn't mind one bit. Looks could be deceiving, but the content of the book didn't change, much
like Strider, and much like Harry. He supposed that's why he was so keen to protect what little he was. As much as he
liked to indulge himself with childish fantasies of wielding magic staffs and defeating evil dark lords, Harry knew he just
wanted to save himself from more hurt. Pretend to be someone you're not, and no one can hurt you. Not the real you. So
Harry had spent the last two years molding his outward appearance to fit that of a polite and docile little boy. But inside,
he was a secret king. The idea of having an alias sprouted much around the time of his fascination of magical stories. If
he were to be a wizard, a great Light wizard like Gandalf, or a Dark Lord like Sauron, what would he be called? And if he
were so called that, what would he look like?

Harry knew it was only a fantasy, juvenile at best, but he let himself play in it like one would a sandbox. The sand always
shifted. His mental playground was alive.

Approaching a small trickling stream, a bit further down from Red Mill's Hill, Harry sat down to rest, legs folded against
his chest as he gazed at the water running over the large smooth pebbles.

If he were a wizard...if he could be anyone he wanted to be, far away from Penelope's House, and far away from
ignorance and isolation...Who would he b e on an adventure? He had thought about this before. Many times actually, ever
since he determined he was different. He looked at his distorted reflection in the bubbling stream and smiled.

"Hasan." he said to himself, then giggled. It sounded so unique, as it should be, for he made it up with the garden
snakes one day. They enjoyed the sibilant sound and so did he. He wanted it to be his, and he knew it was him, but...it
was different. "Hasssan." he whispered possessively, falling into the tongue of the snakes. The 's' lingered on his
tongue. "Hassssan."

The name just seemed right for him- even if it was just a mask to use inside his own mind. He giggled and looked at the
water again, only to open his mouth in mute horror.

A boy, his age, with medium-length brown hair and jaded green eyes, so dull it scared him, gaped at him through the
water.

That can't b e me- can it? he thought panicked. Harry lifted a hand to his face, and the reflection did much the same. Oh,
for the love of life! But it was him. Change me b ack! Change me b ack! He shouted over and over in his mind, before he
felt a familiar tingling through his body. When he cracked open his eyes again, it was only he who sat there, alone next to
the stream.

Relieved, but now extremely curious, Harry wondered if he could do it again. He tapped into this strange power once
more, squeezed his eyes tightly, and opened them to find that peculiar image of that boy that was him.

Harry knew he was different- ever since he woke up on the roof with no recollection of how he got there- but he
remembered a full moon. Beautiful, bright, and enchanting. No matter how it was that he got there the view had been
worth it. But eight years of continued bouts of this-this magic, and he began to suspect something wasn't right. He just
couldn't be normal, could he? He distanced himself from the kids, talking with Mrs. Haydn only when necessary. He
wasn't sure why. He just did.

Harry picked up the book left fallen by his side. Oh, if only it were true. If only he really did have magic. But Harry knew
better than that- he knew he had some sort of medical condition of hallucinations- Mrs. Haydn said so- and knew he was
just imagining things... But that was his favorite thing to do. Dreaming. And now, with this new discovery, he could truly be
just Hasan the wizard, the secret king among kings, and never have to return to orphan Harry again.

A/N: It's a lot of information being tossed at you, I know. And it's really short, but if you liked it, please drop a review!

Next up: The Leaky Cauldron

edited: 2.6.15
*Chapter 2*: The Leaky Cauldron
A/N- Harry knows that he's a wizard on some level, but it's too good for him to even believe. He's very smart and doesn't
want to get hurt at all, so he created the name 'Hasan' to separate what he believes is a dream come true, and reality,
should his dream end one day. Since it is entirely Harry's choice in what he believes exists and does not, he sometimes
switches between the two, because that is how he thinks of himself. Hopefully you guys can keep track of two names,
right?

Disclaimer- Everything recognizable belongs to JKR! Except for my OC's Mr. Ted, Mrs. Haydn, and Altair Castell.

:Parseltongue:

"Speech"

Enjoy!

"You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream."

- A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Return of Emerald

Chapter 2: The Leaky Cauldron

Bent by the stream with his book, Hasan pondered where he should go from here. The orphanage wasn't too far off from
civilization though it was pretty much isolated. Hasan knew that his best chance of survival would probably be blending in
and finding a small job in London. The city couldn't be too far, he surmised, for Mrs. Haydn went to London nearly every
other Saturday and came back by dinner time. With that in mind, Hasan began his own adventure, his book clasped
between his fingers.

He walked past the little farmer's market, down the road, across the bridge, and further until he hit actual asphalt. By this
time, however, Hasan was exhausted. He had seriously underestimated just how far off the beaten path the orphanage
was! On the bright side, the weather was nicer today,...yet he was in desperate need of a tissue and possibly a cup of hot
chocolate. But he had to go on!

Looking about him, he realized he was in a small neighborhood and was overjoyed that he had made it so far as
civilized society. A few more minutes of walking and he found himself on the edges of a small shopping street. Not quite
London, but he was sure he was close. Following his gut, Hasan continued on his path, when he saw the most peculiar
sight: a man with an owl. The man wore black robes, like a dress, and he was reading a letter on, hang on, a scroll of
parchment? Hasan rubbed at his eyes. Heaven knew his eyesight was terrible- he was probably hallucinating again.
Stopped by a red light, Hasan turned to a pleasantly plump woman beside him and asked which way to London. She
fairly laughed in delight.

"Oh, just past this street and you'll be in the very heart of it, dear." she answered very helpfully.

The woman had a sweet face, slightly frizzled red hair, and a baggy, moss green pea coat. Hasan thanked the lady, and
was just about to step into the street when she grabbed his arm. Oh dear, this was not supposed to happen.
"Where are your parents, dear?" the woman asked, face drawn in concern. "Are you here alone?"

Well, not like it was any of her business but-

"Oh, they're just down the street Misses..."

"Mrs. Weasley." she supplied kindly, letting go of his arm. Hasan managed to smile back.

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Weasley." And he scampered off before she could even process he was lying.

"Oh, the poor kid." Molly thought to herself. "Probably some runaway..."

.oOo.

Hasan, meanwhile, was leaping with joy. He had made it! He was in London! So it was only half past five, and he had set
out at eleven am, but a victory was a victory, was it not? He wondered if the man Mrs. Haydn mentioned had already come
to the orphanage. Was the man very disappointed? He shouldn't be. After all, there were twenty-six other wonderful kids
to choose from- most of whom were abandoned at birth. Who would willingly want Harry-no- Hasan. Especially if he
learned of Hasan's issues.

Sighing, Hasan tore his eyes away from the large clock tower to focus on his environment. People were bustling about in
all sorts of styles, holding briefcases, handbags, suitcases, dog leashes... It seemed everyone was going somewhere,
and no one paid any mind to Hasan. Could this day get any better?

He picked up the pace, wondering if a kind baker would throw him some scraps or if he'd just starve the first night. This
idea didn't bother him too much- for the people in his book starved relatively often- but reality was a whole different
matter. He needed food, or so help him, he was going to die from something as ordinary as starvation. And wouldn't that
just be a sad adventure?

His first attempt at soliciting food was a complete and utter failure. The baker screeched for him to get out or he'd call the
cops. His second attempt was much the same...Hasan looked sadly at his worn book with detached fondness. Must he
make his first sacrifice so soon? Figuring it was for the best and gathering his courage, he sold his treasured novel to a
used book store for ten pounds. Half of which, Harry was sure he only got because the shop owner took pity on him. But
money was money, and Hasan continued merrily on his way until he came to a pub with delicious smells wafting from
the windows. He noticed that none of the other passerby's so much as glanced at the pub. But surely they could smell
those heavenly scents! He didn't think too much of it and curiously glanced upwards.

The Leaky Cauldron.

What a funny name for a pub ! Hasan thought, pushing open the door, money clutched firmly in his little hand. The minute
the door was open, he was met with thunderous chatter. He took an abrupt step back, and the noise instantly muted, a
step forward, and he could hear the chinking glasses and lively conversation as clear as day. It was like his appearance.
Magic! A warmth spread over him as he acknowledged that this was where he belonged. Plus, it was really warm in
there! Hasan quickly slipped inside.

"Hey there, kid." a tall man with an apron smiled down at him. "Looking for your parents?"

Hasan began to panic though the waiter could only detect his deepening breaths.

"Uh, no, no sir." Hasan mumbled out, ready to slide past him.

"No?" the employee asked, side stepping Hasan's escape route. Damn! Hasan was forced to look up at him to keep his
cute little boy cover. "Are they somewhere else perhaps? I could help you look?"

"They're dead." Hasan said flatly, really not in the mood to play the game anymore. He was so hungry. He couldn't even
think straight.

The man in front of him apparently couldn't either. Was this kid lying? He searched his jaded orbs but found nothing but
weariness. Perhaps he just got into a fight and ran away? Yes, that was a much better alternative.

"Y-you hungry, kid?" the waiter finally asked, attempting to stall him long enough to contact his parents and get them over
here.

"No, just let me-"

And then his stomach released a loud growl.

"Well, come on then, out of the doorway." the waiter said briskly. He grabbed Hasan's hand despite the fact it was balled
into a fist, and led him quickly to the bar. "I'm Marcus, by the way." he said as they walked. Hasan found himself not
caring.

Honestly! He had money! He could just buy a loaf of bread and be done with it, forget about the questions that would
arise. But...the lure of food did sound good. He decided to play nice for just a bit longer.

"Hasan."

"Hasan? That's...nice. Very nice." Marcus nodded slowly, calling over the bar a second later, "Tom!"

In no time, an older man with a striped black and white apron came peering over the ledge.

"What is it Marcus? Oh! I see you have a friend here." He used light tones, but his arched eyebrows told another story.

"He needs to eat." Marcus said, and the man nodded cryptically like they had exchanged a million words with those four.

"Bring him to the back." Tom said, and flew off to get what Hasan hoped was his food. Marcus led Hasan to the back
room as instructed, taking in his shabby appearance with a frown: withering sweatshirt, ripped jeans. He looked
homeless but for his clean brown hair and clear face.

"This is where the employees eat." Marcus explained, indicating that Hasan should take a seat on the bench while he
sat across from him. "Tom's the owner. He's fixing you a plate right nw."

Hasan nodded, jade-green eyes taking in everything around him. The floor, walls, and ceiling were worn wood, and the
light overhead was a tiny iron chandelier. And, wait a minute, was it floating? Hasan rubbed his eyes and blinked. I must
b e dreaming, he thought.

"So...where do you live?" Marcus asked uneasily, praying for Tom's swift arrival.

Hasan folded his hands in his lap and looked somewhere to Marcus' left.

"I don't live there anymore."

Ah! So the boy had gotten into a fight, maybe with his parents? Marcus was so relieved he nearly sighed.

"Look, kid, you can tell me. It's okay, I promise they won't be mad at you, that is, assuming you didn't do-"

"I didn't do anything!" Hasan protested. God, was this man hard of hearing? "I just don't live there anymore."

He could hear how bratty he sounded, but it was like someone else was speaking. Besides this man deserved it. What
part of: My parents are dead and I don't live there anywhere, did this man not understand?

"Ah, I see." Though he clearly didn't. "Where is there? It could help us to locate your parents."

'I told you!' Hasan wanted to shout, but instead it came out in a deadly whisper: "They aren't here. They died."

Before Marcus could protest that he shouldn't joke about things like that, Tom came in with a plate of fish and chips, and
a tall glass of water.

"How you making out?" Tom asked Marcus, taking a seat beside his employee.

Marcus gave a histrionically audible sigh.

"He keeps saying his parents are dead!" Marcus said, throwing his hands in the air.

"Because they are." Hasan mumbled. "Why would I lie about that?"

"Because you clearly ran away from somewhere!" Marcus shouted.

"Hey! Hey!" Tom yelled. "Everybody, just! Marcus, shhh. We'll get to the bottom of this." Turning back to Hasan he gave a
tired, fatherly smile.

"What's your name, kid? How old are you?"

Hasan tried to determine if there was an ulterior motive, but wasn't as pro as Gandalf. He ended up with the truth, or at
least, his truth.

"Hasan. I'm eight."

"Ah, Hasan. Hasan what?" Tom pried. Hasan shrugged. Goodness gracious! They hadn't given him time to construct a
surname! What did they think he was? A name generator? Tom seemed to understand that Hasan was unwilling to
divulge such information because he quickly moved on.

"Alright, Hasan. Marcus here seems to believe you ran away from home. Did you?"

Home? Was Penelope's House considered a home? Technically a house was a home, unless you were one of those
sentimental people that believed a home was so much better. The orphanage was a hole where they shoved freaks
without parents. Was that considered a home? Perhaps he should have asked himself: did he feel at home there?

Urgh! This time of circuitous thinking was starting to give him a real headache.

"I ran." Hasan finally said in an even tone. That was fairly obvious.

The two adults shared a look as Hasan began to devour his meal. It was actually quite tasty.

"Slow down, you'll get sick," Marcus chided in concern, "You'd think you haven't eaten in-" he stopped himself, finally
seeing the error in his ways. He looked to Tom for support, but the older man just raised an eyebrow. You dug your own
grave, he seemed to say.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast." Hasan told them, and they instantly relaxed. That wasn't so bad, right? It wasn't like they
had a full blown street rat on their hands. Plus, the kid seemed nice enough, polite enough anyway.

"Hasan...look at me." Tom asked softly from across the table. The tone was so low and gentle that Hasan complied
without much thought. "I'm willing to believe you." he said firmly, "Now do you have anywhere to stay?"

Hasan shook his head. They weren't possibly-? Could they-? His heart fluttered with hope. This was an inn after all!

"You can stay here. For one night!" Tom announced, his strictness giving way with a warm smile. He didn't exactly
condone running away from home, but there wasn't much else he could do. If the kid wouldn't talk, assuming he was
lying, then there wasn't anything he could do that wouldn't have him running to the hills- or worse- Knockturn Alley. Yes,
best to keep him safe at the inn and hope his parents followed him.

"Thank you." Hasan whispered genuinely. Once Hasan was finished eating his fill, which included a hot chocolate with
whipped cream as dessert, Marcus led him upstairs to his room at the far end of the hallway.

"This is where you'll stay the night. Just touch the knob and it'll unlock for you."

Seemingly satisfied, Marcus walked away; Hasan touched it and it opened.

Magic.

Giddy with joy, Hasan entered the little room, shut the door, and fell fast asleep on the bed. He couldn't help himself, it
was so incredibly soft, that he felt his eyelids shutting as he touched it.

He only wished that his dream wouldn't end when he woke up.

.oOo.

Down the hall, Marcus was shaking his head at Tom, wondering how on earth they were going to pull this off.

"Hopefully his parents will come in the morning." Marcus murmured. Tom, however, stayed silent. "You don't- You don't
actually think-?"

"Marcus, I'm not sure. He seems genuine enough, and he is only eight. I'm prepared to take his word for it."

"And if he is, by some miraculous stretch of the imagination, telling the truth?"

Tom sighed, "Then we'll just have to see what we can do. Won't we?"

They each cheered to that, butterbeer overflowing in large mugs, as the last customers emptied out. Tom plunged the
pub into total darkness with a wave of his wand, and Marcus began to bolt up the door, when a lone figure seemed to
materialize right outside of it.

"It's closing time." Marcus called out, but opened the door anyway.

"What is it?" Tom asked, turning from his ascent up the stairs.

"I'm terribly sorry, Tom." the man outside said, taking down his hood, "But I seem to have lost my son."

Why that little urchin! Marcus thought with a strike of triumph. He turned to the supposed father and gave him an
extremely warm smile.

"I can show you upstairs," Marcus offered gleefully.

"The poor fellow's asleep, Marcus. We can't just-"

"Oh, no matter," the mysterious man said in a pleasant baritone. "I can simply apparate the two of us back home without
any disturbance."

Marcus nodded happily. He knew that boy had been lying! Tom, however, didn't seem so sure. The man in front of them
was tall, dressed in a heavy black cloak, with thick brown hair that fell just past his shoulders. His eyes were a pale blue,
and his eyebrows were heavy on top of them. Despite his informal shout of 'Tom,' Tom was positive he had never seen
this man before in his life. Granted, the Leaky Cauldron was extremely busy and there was a chance he hadn't met
someone before, but that chance was slim.

"Well right this way Mister!" Marcus was saying.

Tom just shook his head. It was getting late; he was tired. He allowed Marcus to show the man upstairs to Hasan's
room, while Tom continued on to his own chambers above his business.

"So what did he do?" Marcus asked conversationally.

"Do?" the man repeated absently.

"Yeah, to run away like that."

The man paused.

"I'm not sure."

They had reached the boy's door by now, and Marcus was mumbling the incantation to allow them entry.

"He said you were dead, you know. You and your wife! I couldn't believe it!" Marcus continued, getting carried away by his
own delight.

"Is that so?" the man asked.

"Yes, I'd give 'im a talking to if I were you."

A grim smile came over the man's face. "Indeed."

The father entered the room, while Marcus left to give them privacy. The bedroom was dark, nearly pitch black but for the
lone candle flickering in the bathroom.

"What a small body to contain so much magic." he whispered, approaching the bed.

The boy was peaceful looking while asleep, brown hair tangled around his shoulders and the gentle rise and fall of his
chest.

The man had been tracking his trail for a while now: since noon to be exact, when the little cretin decided to make a
break for it. You see, this mysterious man was highly sensitive to magic ever since he had ingested some fairly dark
potions that didn't react well in his system. His new ability didn't bother him much, but it certainly gave him a shock when
a highly powerful source was radiating from a barely populated town near London. He made an investigation of it, finally
reaching a little known orphanage called Penelope's House.

How the woman- Mrs. Haydn, was it?- thought kids could even be found, let alone adopted, was beyond him. But he was
thankful for it nonetheless, for the boy hadn't been adopted yet. At first, he hadn't known what or who was radiating the
powerful magical aura, but after asking a few strategic questions, he had a pretty good idea.

Only one child was known to be...strange. Only one child that was set apart from the others and treated with respect
despite lack of any reason. It was his aura. The man told Mrs. Haydn he would very much like to meet this little boy, and
the woman practically cried with happiness. "Noon, then?" she had asked, and he had nodded. And now, here he was,
after blindly following his more bothersome-than-useful power, kneeling at the bedside of a child he didn't know. But if he
trusted anything in the world, it was his gut.

He reached out to touch the boy's arm, and with a faint pop, they both vanished into the night.

.oOo.

Altair Castell was a quiet man of forty-something years, who kept mostly to himself at the Castell Estate, located within
some unplottable territory in France. He was quiet for two reasons:

1) He was not on speaking terms with his family and wanted no part in the war.

2) He was supposed to be dead.

The first was fairly easy to explain. Altair was the last of the British branch of Castell's, meaning that he was distantly
related to the House of Black. And with this came the Malfoys, the Lestranges, and the rest of the bloody Dark Lord's
escort. Which simply begged the question: why wasn't he with them?

The second point answers this. In the time of the Dark Lord's reign, Altair had been hunted down as mercilessly as
Slughorn, except that he had a dark family that pressured him into the dark as well. He had a knack for what some liked
to call 'getting into trouble' and often, Altair found his nose where it didn't belong.

This being said, he was the ideal spy, stealthy, amiable, easy-going, but very smart. Well, mostly. While pursued by the
Dark Lord, he was running out of options. He had to get away, and well, desperate times did call for desperate
measures, and so- in his desperation- he decided to down the closest few potions on Snape's desk. (Snape had his
own mastermind space at Riddle Manor.) Back then, Severus was fighting for the Dark Lord's favor, much like everybody
else- and he did so with inventions, whether it was spells or potions. It just so happened that the particular few he chose
to ingest did not kill him, but instead, gave him a little known condition Snape decided to creatively call: "Magical Sight." It
was a nuisance to be honest, but he had his out, and who was he to complain?

Thus, the next few years were spent in hiding, and while hiding, Altair began to invest in defensive training to prepare for
the inevitable. His instructors were always obliviated afterwards, but he was a patient man, and eventually built up a
repertoire of different battle styles.

When news of the Dark Lord's demise reached Altair's ears, he had already achieved a level of expertise in martial arts,
as well as sword fighting, your basic hand-to-hand, and of course, spells both dark and light.

But he wasn't entirely cut off from the world. Due to his condition, he needed to take a potion known as "Muted Sights"
twice a month, formulated specifically for him (and most creatively named) by Severus Snape. Usually, Snape would
apparate to a meeting point where they would exchange a few words, but yesterday had been particularly hectic. Unable
to take the time off, it seemed, Altair had volunteered to go himself, personally, to London. It would be like a vacation, he
told himself, except that he would have to be on high alert everywhere he went- which wasn't a change at all.

Altair took the three Galleon portkey to London at 5 in the afternoon, and apparated to Hogsmeade where he waited
patiently for the Snape there. As he waited however, he kept feeling a certain prickling in his mind, which meant a
particularly loud, or bright, (he was never really quite sure how to describe it) magical source was nearby. He shook his
head, trying to shove it down as he recognized the black robes billowing in the distance.

.oOo.

Snape was his usual acidulous self, but he honestly did like Altair, if like was such a thing possible for a man like
Severus. Altair suspected it was because that he could see, all too clearly, himself in Altair's shoes. He didn't treat Altair
like a coward for finding an Out of the Dark Lord's service, but he did suspect Snape envied him from time to time. Even
with the Dark Lord gone, Snape was still on edge, always preparing for the next course of action. Altair almost pitied him.

"I'm going to be late with the headmaster now because of you." Snape sneered, tossing him the potions. The two vials
clanked in the paper bag as Altair swiped it from the air.

"Is the Light Lord still into lemon drops?"

"Don't be absurd!" Snape snapped with zeal. "Of course, he is!"

The two friendly acquaintances looked at each other and smiled fractionally. Snape still had greasy hair due to the potion
fumes, obsidian eyes that could probably set someone on fire, and a tongue that could lash someone quite brutally. He
hadn't changed in, in...well, he hadn't changed. Altair, however, was under a simple glamor that made him look much
older than he really was.

"You should really take those right away." Snape insisted, indicating to the bag. "You've waited too long, we're already into
November."

"Yes, I know." Altair sighed. But he didn't want to yet, even as those obsidian eyes watched him acutely, he couldn't bring
himself to mute the powerful tug leading god knew where.

Snape was still staring. "You know the effects of too much exposure. Especially so near Hogwarts, I suggest you do it
now."

"I will..." Altair paused. Should he tell him or ignore it? Drink the potion and pretend it was never there. Snape was never
one to draw the answer out of someone- he just waited rather impatiently for Altair to come to an answer. "There's a
powerful magical energy near here." Altair finally bit put.

Snape raised a supercilious eyebrow. "Indeed. And the castle is not-?"

"Severus, it's...it's not the castle. The castle's aura is gold; I'm sensing a pulsating emerald. Somewhere...somewhere
near here."

"And it's not Hogwarts?" Snape asked again, looking at him like he grew another head.

"No." Altair said definitely.

Snape leaned back in his seat. "Then by all means, sate your curiosity, Altair. But the castle's most likely interfering with
your already hyperactive senses. Why you didn't contact me until the beginning of November..."

Altair felt himself grow angry. How dare this man not believe him! But he was a gentle bull by nature, so he just shook his
head.

"Thanks, Severus. Go run along to Gandalf now." Altair made a shooing motion with his hand earning a glare from the
other.

"You're just lucky I haven't told Gandalf of your existence." he said lowly, "But if you do find something..." he left it at that,
before striding briskly back to the castle.

But Altair knew better- Severus would never rat out a potential ally. Plus, Altair was too excited to be scared by an old
school friend. What was this wild green energy? Who was it? How did it form? Was it real?

He pocketed the potions in his cloak and apparated to Diagon Alley. From there, he continued on foot until he reached a
little suburb. The glow was brighter now, the tugging more adamant, and he joyfully followed his senses past a small
family-owned farm, a red large mill, a hill, and finally, he stood before the most pitiful orphanage he had ever seen in his
entire life.

Penelope's House.

.oOo.

Present.

Hasan awoke to a soft hissing coming from somewhere to his right. Yet, he made no move to declare his return to
consciousness, for what if it were more advantageous to remain immobile? He sent his senses out, hearing the
hissing, but also smelling coffee, and feeling the soft covers and mattress of his bed. Thinking back to last night, the
covers of the Leaky Cauldron had been of average quality, mediocre at best (not that Hasan knew much about quality),
with an extremely fluffy pillow that his head kept sinking into. Now, it felt just right and extremely luxurious. Either he
wasn't remembering correctly or he wasn't there at all.

"I know you're not asleep." a low voice intoned from across the room. "You can get up now."

Hasan, determining that he had discovered all of importance from just his senses, reluctantly opened his eyes. The man
knew he was awake anyway, right? Hasan sat up gingerly, blinking into the bright room with a false air of ignorance. His
gaze swept left and right, but his eyesight was never really good.

"How are you?" the voice asked again.

Hasan's eyes narrowed on the speaker who was busy stroking a small black snake. What an odd animal for a pet,
Hasan thought, but otherwise had no opinion. It wasn't nice to judge. The room was richly furnished with old mahogany
desks and drawers, a table, two couches, and a large mantled fireplace.

"Well enough..." Hasan answered slowly. The man simply nodded.

"That's good. My name's Altair, by the way, Altair Castell. This is my pet, Tina."

:Hello: Tina hissed.

Hasan appeared unfazed- he had talked to snakes before. But when he had told Mrs. Haydn she had called him a rather
imaginative young man, and looked at him a little more oddly ever since. So Hasan remained quiet about his ability.

It wasn't nice to judge, but people did it anyway.

"Where am I?" Hasan asked, not needing to feign his curiosity and growing panic.

"France." Altair answered nonchalantly. It was that one word which jolted Hasan from his thoughts. France? Wait, who the
Hell was this guy? Why was he here? How did he get here, for how long had he been unconscious?

Hasan bit his lower lip. "You kidnapped me." It was a statement.

Altair was struck at the apathy. "No, I've got the paperwork right here."

That's when Hasan noticed the small manila folder in the man's hand. Hasan made two realizations at once. One, this
was the man who had wanted to see him yesterday. Two, this Altair guy knew his real name- it had to be on the folder,
and Hasan's dream was over.

He was just Harry.

To any other, this news would elicit sobs that would rack one's small body. To any other, they would scrunch their eyes
tight and pray for a hug. Harry did no such thing.

"What's my name?" he asked slowly. Anything to keep the dream going... He so desperately wanted to be Hasan the
wizard, but if the man knew his real name was Harry Potter then there was nothing he could do about it. "What does the
folder say? Why did you come? How did you find me?" His persona was falling apart as he spoke, but his voice
remained eerily calm- a trait from some mental disorder, he recalled Mrs. Haydn saying.

But surprisingly, the man simply chuckled in front of him. They were little sounds escaping at first, but soon grew into full-
bellied laughs. Harry was frozen on the bed.

"Sly thing." Altair was chuckling. His icy eyes met Harry's jaded ones and he stood up to approach him. "You will make a
great Slytherin yet, or perhaps a Ravenclaw."

Harry frowned.

"A-a, excuse me, a what-?" he tried not to look offended. Had he just been insulted?

Altair ignored him, "I'm sorry,"-he struggled to get his laughter under control,-"The paperwork doesn't exist."

Something slid from his sleeve into his hand, something like a stick, and a swish of his arm brought the manila folder to
flames.

"You don't know my name?" Harry breathed out, relieved, hardly registering the fire in the background in his delight. "Mrs.
Haydn didn't tell you my name?" His was getting suspicious now, but also hopeful, as all children will want to be when
the best case scenario first presents itself as possible.

Altair shrugged. He remembered the conversation vaguely, but he was never one for details. Also, the Magic Sight had
been wreaking havoc with his mind, and if the woman told him he could meet the boy the next day, then how was he to
know he should have kept the information firmly in his brain? Yes, Altair was a lucky man, but sorely blinded to some
obvious things.
"No. I don't believe so." Altair said with a frown, "But I have adopted you, and I would really like to know your name."

Hasan relaxed slightly: his identity was still his secret.

"I call myself Hasan."

A pause.

"Hasan Castell. I like it."

Hasan still felt incredibly awkward in bed, so he made to get up. Altair didn't stop him, so he continued on until he
reached the snake. It rose up to greet him, though that wasn't saying much because he was short, even for an eight year
old due to the orphanage food, tongue sticking out in flashes.

:Hassssan:

Hasan blinked. Suddenly, the snake was green with bright yellow diamonds. What? The snake was a color changer?

:It isss my ability, little one:

The snake turned fiery red then deep sapphire blue, all within a few seconds, as if to prove its point.

"Altair?" Hasan asked suddenly, his back turned to his new father and eyes entranced by Tina, "Do you believe in
magic?"

This puzzled Altair, for the boy nearly spilled over with pure magical energy!

"What? Of course I-" and then it struck him. It struck him hard. "You didn't know- you don't know... you're a wizard." he
stated ineloquently.

He felt his mouth grow dry as he stared at this little boy, head tilted slightly, so oblivious of the power he contained. How
could he have overlooked this detail in his curiosity, determination, and then frustration?

"I dreamed I was a wizard." Hasan said loftily, reaching out to pet Tina. "I fear I must still be dreaming."

Her scales were smooth emerald now, glittering with an iridescent sheen.

"No, Hasan. Look at me." Altair said.

He did so, dull jade eyes gazing up skeptical at icy blue. "You're a wizard... I'm a wizard. Magic is real."

Hasan was petrified, turned to a marble statue as the emerald snake climbed onto his arm.

:It isss true:

"Hasan? Hasan, are you alright? I'm not lying to you: Magic is real."

Tina slithered up around his neck and tasted his cheek with her tongue.

"You better not lie to me." he said eventually, pointing to the pile of ash that was the folder. "I might just burn."

Just then, Tina returned to bright carmine, looking like a bloodied noose around his head. Altair nodded sadly, staring at
his hands, knowing now that his display of fire probably didn't do much to ease the boy's concerns. When he looked up,
Tina was already back on the table.

"Will you teach me?" Hasan's voice enquired, hands tangling in his old, tattered sweatshirt. Altair made a mental note to
go shopping later. "Magic, I mean." Hasan elaborated.

Altair felt a smile grow over his face.

"I'd like nothing more, Hasan, my son."

Thank you to:

Nagilover4ever, RebeliousOne, Man of Constant Sorrow, Le Diablo Blanc2, Fae0306, MidnightYoshi67,

adenoide(guest), 917brat, geetac, RebeccaRoy, Moony the Mature One, Guest, Guest, May a Chance, medward, The
Dark One Rising, and Post U Later

for the lovely reviews!

A/N-As you've noticed, I've decided to make the chapters longer (2x), which consequently makes periods between
updates longer, but I will try to update on Fridays from now on. Thanks for the lovely reviews and the lovely people who
sent them!

I'm also really sorry it's not that interesting yet. I still feel like I'm force feeding you information. It's important, I swear!

Also, I know it says Harry and Draco, but pairings are still up in the air (though I've got a pretty good idea). If you want to
see a specific pairing, please send your opinion in a review.

Next up (three years later): Diagon Alley

edited: 2.6.15
*Chapter 3*: Diagon Alley
A/N- School is starting soon and I won't be able to update as frequently. Also, I'm auditioning for an orchestra this
December and practice is brutal! (The audition piece is by Haydn). This will be the last update in a while so please enjoy!

Also note: the disclaimer from the past chapters still stand!

Parseltongue will henceforth be in colons!

:Parseltongue:

"Speech"

"You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream."

- A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Return of Emerald

Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

Three Years Later

Hasan Castell felt trapped. No, scratch that, he was trapped. In this body and in this dream...

The past three years had been wonderful: Altair had taught him all he needed to know to excel in his first year of
Hogwarts, from social norms, to prejudices, to spells, texts, and self-defense. Altair had called him a natural, and loved
to watch his son burgeon before his eyes. But Altair, as we know, had a knack for finding himself where he should never
have been. Apart from this apparent luck, however, he was just a human like all the rest. He didn't even notice Hasan's
distress at all. Perhaps it was because it wasn't Hasan's distress but Harry's.

Hasan liked to separate the two, though he knew they were the same. (He wasn't that stupid.) It just made it easier if...if
one day he woke up and it was all gone. The magic, the spells, his father. He'd wake up and just be Harry, and life would
go on. The thought terrified him. He wanted to be Hasan with all his heart! But he knew the truth. Now, if only his
reflection would understand.

Hasan touched his face in the mirror, tracing his rounder jawline, jade-green eyes, and average brown eyebrows.
Sometimes he imagined he could see himself...his old self- in the mirror, but a blink later and he was gone. His hair had
grown some in the past years, only hindered by two annual haircuts, so that it fell gracefully to his waist. That was
another thing he missed: his inky hair that wouldn't lie flat no matter what he did. This style was just too tame, too
controlled.

He fought against making a metaphor for his life, and opted to just stare. Stare at the him that wasn't him. If dad found
out...would he hate Hasan for deceiving him?

Which brought Hasan to his next issue: He was alone. It did not matter that Altair loved him, because Altair loved Hasan,
and Harry was pretending. Harry had never truly left Red Mill's Hill: he was still there, staring into the sky, and dreaming.
It broke his heart.

.oOo.

:Hassssan: Tina slithered into the bathroom, sliding up onto the counter.

:Yes, Tina?: Hasan hissed back.

:You are still dreaming that you are not you.:

If snakes could look sympathetic, then that was exactly how Tina looked right now. She was white at the moment but for a
large black dot on her back.

Hasan sighed softly.

:But I am not I: Hasan hissed sadly, running his fingers over her scales. He was still in his pajamas, but to be fair, it was
only five o'clock. He had been up early for today was July 31st.

:That iss sstupid human logic.: Tina told him firmly, :I can be pure white (the black dot disappeared) and then change
ssso I am pitch black. (She demonstrated). Yet, I am alwasysss I.:

This managed to bring a smile to the boy's face as the snake changed to a calm turquoise.

"Yeah, I know." Hasan mumbled to himself. He knew he was being melodramatic, but today just brought back
thoughts...He splashed water on his face, stroked Tina, and then exited the bathroom.

Perhaps the one thing he missed most was his eyes.

.oOo.

Downstairs, Altair was sipping his coffee with the Daily Prophet opened out onto the table. He always got a bunch
whenever Severus came around (which was every month) and therefore, his news was always outdated. But still! He
enjoyed keeping up with Wizarding Britain. He still hadn't told Severus of his young charge yet...but why did the man need
to know everything?

He was probably more knowledgeable than most of the Wizarding World from being with the Dark Lord and Gan-
Dumbledore all the time. Well, not so much the Dark Lord now for he was supposedly dead by some Harry Potter or
other. Which reminded him: Harry Potter was going to be going to Hogwarts this year. What a coincidence!

"Morning, Hasan!" Altair cried cheerfully, waving his month-old newspaper with a flourish.

"Morning, Dad." Hasan said, trying not to fall into nostalgia at the name. Honestly, it was just a name! He could be Harry
anytime he wanted! Yeah...he couldn't even lie to himself.

Altair dramatically read the last few lines of the paper (making it clear when he had finished reading) as Hasan grabbed
some croissants, before shouting, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON!"

Hasan smiled at his overenthusiastic father, and settled in beside him with a cup of hot tea and his breakfast.

"I feel old." Hasan grumbled playfully. "If I'm only eleven I wonder what Gandalf feels like."

"It only gets worse from here, son!" Altair ruffled Hasan's hair affectionately, though it straightened back out in seconds.
Another thing Hasan tried to ignore.

"Did you see the mail yet?" Altair asked nonchalantly while taking a small sip of his coffee.

"No, I'll-" But as Hasan turned around, Altair swiftly shoved an envelope right under his nose.

"Wha-!" Hasan gaped, before taking the heavy parchment in his hands.

There was an insignia of a lion, snake, badger, and raven, pressed in red wax, which Hasan immediately correlated to
the four houses of Hogwarts. Altair told him all about them, plus some other miscellaneous information on some cup of
Helga's, diadem of Ravenclaw's and other such nonsense...

Hasan turned over the envelope and read:

 Mr. H Castell

The Second Bedroom

Castell Estate, France

"See, this place is so unplottable, we don't even have a proper address!" Altair said happily, taking a generous bite of his
food.

"It really came." Hasan breathed, tearing open the letter and reading it hungrily.

"Of course it did! I wouldn't have prepped you on fourth year incantations if I didn't think you'd get in, would I?"

Hasan looked at him dubiously. The man would've prepared for everything and anything if only they had time.

"So does this mean I get a real wand now? I don't need to borrow yours?"

Altair grinned. "Yes! But you know, it's not my fault they upped the wand age."

Hasan grinned playfully, "And you're just oh so law abiding, aren't you?"

.oOo.

Three years ago, Hasan would have only been dreaming of wizards with long gray beards and magical staffs, hoping
and hoping to wake up one day and be one. He still wasn't sure if he accepted it-who he was- or was becoming. Or that
what he lived as Hasan was not all some elaborate, imaginative, dream. To be honest, Hasan knew very well. He wasn't
an idiot. But he still couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty whenever he remembered who he really was.

Birthdays tended to trigger bothersome emotions like that.

Altair smiled at him as they entered Diagon Alley in through the Leaky Cauldron, and past the brick wall which Altair
tapped opened with a grin.

("Hey isn't that?" Tom asked as the ends of their cloaks disappeared out the door. "No, couldn't be.")

Hasan was amazed at the sheer 'magicalness' of everything and wondered how, three years ago, he had missed all the
colorful robes and hats. Everything was just so exciting! In France, they had to disguise themselves as muggles, not
daring to go into the Wizarding World until it was time. Plus, it wouldn't do any good to be caught in something or other
with a foreign government. They didn't do anything that would warrant such attention, but it was better to be safe than
sorry.

All around them were families and many many children, and teens getting ready for the coming school year. They had on
wizards' robes and witches' hats, and some even had owls in cages! When Hasan first confessed to seeing the owls,
Altair had only laughed and told him that many owls were disillusioned so that muggles couldn't see them, and the few
that did, didn't think much of it. Altair wasn't a muggle hater, but he did think they were rather doltish sometimes, and
being raised in a pureblood family, he was more than aware of the blood prejudices. Thus, Hasan knew all about them
too.

.oOo.

Hasan was dressed in a grey v-neck and black jeans, with a white scarf to keep him warm. His brown hair was in a thick
braid hanging in front of his right shoulder. Altair, glamored to look older, beside him, donning his usual black cloak and
keeping his eyes on where they were going. The two passed the apothecary, the quidditch store, Gringott's (they really
didn't want to inadvertently set off any alarms), a second-hand robes shop, as well as many others that Hasan just
couldn't take in at once. Finally, they reached the very end of the strip, and Altair immediately steered him into an ancient-
looking edifice that was supposedly a fine wand shop by the dusty sign out front. But stepping inside, Hasan knew
instantly that this was a very genuine place.

Stacks and rows and shelves, of boxes upon boxes of wands lined every surface of the room. Altair was starting to get a
mild headache from all the magical energy in the shop and pressed a hand wearily to his forehead.

"Hello?" Altair called out, wanting to be gone as soon as possible, which meant beginning as soon as possible. Just
then, an elderly man with wild white hair and myriad wrinkles appeared from behind a shelf, so full, that nothing could be
seen behind it.
"Why, hello there! Just be a minute!" Ollivander called out, followed by a crashing sound.

Hasan looked questioningly at his father and frowned in concern when he saw how the man was suffering.

"Why don't you wait outside?" Hasan suggested gently, "I'll just be a minute. Perhaps you could get the other things on
the list?"

Altair was reluctant to leave Hasan by himself, but then again, he wasn't too peachy about his migraine either.

"Alright, Hasan. I'll meet you in front of the Menagerie, yes?"

Hasan nodded, and the man was happy to be out the door at last. Many parents would find that buying their child's first
wand is a simply resplendent experience, but Hasan had been wielding wands and other weapons for a while now. This
was only like replacing a pair of shoes for Altair!

Hasan didn't mind in the least really. He turned to face front- and then immediately rethought that statement, for right in
front of him stood the wand-maker, and his silvery eyes that seemed to stare straight into the depths of Hasan's soul.
Perhaps he should have had Altair stay?

"Hasan, is it?" Ollivander asked with lips quivering in a sort of smile.

Hasan gave slightly less than graceful nod, for it seemed that Ollivander knew him. Him, as in him, him.

"Yes, sir." Hasan answered dutifully, trying and failing to peel his eyes away.

"Hmm." the man seemed lost for a second, but then jerked back to life. "Well, we best get started then. Which arm would
be your wand arm, boy?"

"Right."

The man nodded thoughtfully as a measuring tape floated off the desk and began to take calculations. It was similar to
when he went robe shopping, or rather, when Monsieur Etienne came to the house, provided Altair with what he needed,
and then left without any recollection of what just happened. But this was far more interesting! Everything from his hands
to his eyes were measured and it continually just kept moving about! Meanwhile, Ollivander had whirled around and
snatched a few dozen boxes seemingly at random. Once the measuring tape settled back down, he tossed a box to
Hasan, who caught it, and then eyed him in confusion.

"Just wave it around." Ollivander said like it was obvious but without any trace of haughtiness. Hasan barely brushed
against it when the box was taken from his grasp, and replaced with another. Hasan swallowed nervously and tried
again, but to the same result.

"Ooh, a tough one! I like challenges." the old man was muttering to himself. "Hmm, perhaps?"

Another box was given to him, and Hasan's fingers managed to hold it, before it was again removed from his fingers.

"Ah! But maybe—?" Hasan was beginning to wish that Altair had stayed for surely this man was mad as a hatter! There
was a stack of about fifty wands piled higgly-piggly up on the desk, which was already cluttered with notes and such
things. It seemed like he was never going to find a wand just for him, but then, Ollivander returned with yet another wand.
Miraculously, the wand-maker seemed to grow happier as the search lengthened and it did a wonder for his face.

"Eleven inches, holly wood, containing exactly one phoenix feather." Ollivander announced. Hasan's fingers wrapped
around it, and a sudden warmth ran up his spine. "Wave it!" Ollivander commanded.

Hasan's face broke into a broad smile and he flicked the wand expertly around (though he needn't have) to be rewarded
with a bright shower of silver and gold sparks.

"Yes! Yes!" Ollivander was shouting, hands clasped in joy. "And that, Mr. Potter, is a very curious thing indeed."

The sparks ceased instantly.

"Is my appearance down?" Hasan asked pleasantly, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh no, Mr. Potter. I must say, I was second guessing my intuition except that, well that is to say, up until you tried that
wand." Ollivander confessed, silver eyes boring into Hasan's as he paid for the wand in shiny, newly converted francs to
Galleons.
"What do you mean?" Hasan queried suspiciously. "What about this wand?"

"The wand chooses the wizard- always remember that. But it just so happens that, that wand...Why, its brother gave you
that scar."

Hasan gaped at him.

"I got hit in the head with a stick?" Hasan cried in disbelief. Freak, orphan, dreamer, and now...the most pitiful person on
earth. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon told him he got it in the car crash that killed his parents, but he liked to believe in
his free time that he got it from a heroic battle- like the fatal arrow gone astray, or the blow that nearly killed him. Though
he knew both of these were absolutely false, for how could a baby fight? Or better yet, survive? Still, if others at the
orphanage asked about it, he would feed them the first creative story that came to mind: I got it when I almost died. The
other kids were so freaked out they never asked again.

Ollivander's face fell flat in horror. "Ooooh, dear..." he groaned, his gaze wavering for a split second. Then he seemed to
revive himself. "Well, I believe your father is outside!" and then he ushered the boy out before Hasan could process that
he wanted to know, more than he wanted to be gone from the man's gaze.

.oOo.

True to his word, there stood Altair outside of the wand-shop, holding a small black owl in a silver cage. Hasan gave one
look at the owl before running to hug his father.

"Hey, son." he greeted. "I admit, I hadn't thought it would take as long. But, it all working out, didn't it? You now have your
very own wand, and I managed to find this little guy. Happy birthday, Hasan."

"He's ("she's" Altair coughed) oh, she's for me?" Hasan breathed in disbelief, "Thank you so much, dad!"

"Yes, she reminded me of you for some reason." Altair recalled thoughtfully. "She's small, but I don't know. I just tend trust
my gut with these sorts of things."

"She's lovely!" Hasan beamed. "What's her name?"

"It's up to you, Hasan. Just, please, name her something creative, won't you?"

Hasan snorted, "Yeah, like Tina? Fine then," he grumbled playfully, "How about Raven?"

Altair stopped in his tracks, "Please don't tell me you're serious!"

Hasan's jade eyes widened dramatically. "Why? You said be creative-!"

"Yes, but Raven?"

"Alright, alright! Goodness, it was only a joke." Hasan stared at his new familiar with innocently large eyes. "Do you like
Raven?" he asked her. She hooted once with what Hasan insisted was joy. "See, dad! She loves the name."

Altair heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine, just remind me never to let you name something else ever again."

Raven squawked indignantly and spread her little wings.

Hasan grinned. "Don't listen to him Raven! He's just jealous because he's stuck with the name Altair!"

Altair grinned fondly down at his young charge, and knew he had made the right decision. He had been tempted to get a
large, snowy white owl, but knew that Hasan appreciated stealth and discreetness in all things. Raven (he shuddered
inwardly), just seemed to call to him, not to mention she was an adorable mass of feathers. Not that, not that Altair really
thought things could be adorable...

"Where are we off to now?" Hasan asked eagerly. "I've already got my wand, robes, owl...!"

They continued to walk, passing a quidditch supply shop where a mass of kids were oohing over some broom called the
Nimbus 2000. Hasan had only gone flying a handful of times, and though he was talented, he rather preferred staying on
his own two feet, thank you very much. There were just too many dangers with flying that Altair was quick to point out by
jinxing his broom those number of times. Hasan wasn't terribly interested anyway. Maybe it was because brooms circled
about quidditch, and sports never appealed to Hasan. Kids at the orphanage would play ball from time to time, but
Hasan just sat alone and read his book. He barely gave the broom a glance.
"We can head to the book store, then the Cauldron shop. Maybe we'll even have dinner out tonight at the Leaky Cauldron,
and then finish off the day with ice cream at Fortescue's?" Altair was saying, stopping outside of the book store. Hasan
looked up at Altair with pure love in his eyes. He nodded excitedly, knowing that it cost the man much to be out in public,
for Altair was supposed to be dead, he knew. Which made it all the more meaningful. This was the best birthday yet!

The two spent the next two hours buying supplies and conversing with shop owners to see which brand they preferred or
what texts they recommended for enrichment reading. While Altair was paying for his potion's supplies- the last items on
the list, thank the heavens! -Hasan was occupied studying a reaction chart. It had a list of potion ingredients on one side,
and when touched, it would explain the properties, and how to neutralize or emphasize a certain feature. It was rather
fascinating, for Hasan was curious about the potions his father took each month, but had yet to try his hand at the art of
potions making.

"Oh, is that very fascinating?" a cheery voice spoke from over his shoulder.

"Oh-!" Hasan slowly turned to find a girl his age, with bushy brown hair, soft chocolate eyes, and a dazzling smile. He had
been so engrossed by the chart that he hadn't even notice her sneak up on him!

"I'm Hermione Granger by the way. What's your name?"

Hasan smiled warmly as he shut the book and slipped it back on the shelf.

"I call myself Hasan Castell." he said. His eyes flickered to her obviously muggle clothes, and then to her parents (the
lost looking, but curious people in the doorway), and realized that she must be a muggleborn. "Do you need help finding
anything?" Hasan asked sweetly.

"Oh no! I just bought my things but then I saw you and thought I should really see if you've found something interesting!"
she spoke swiftly, but seemed comfortable enough in his presence. It must have been some habit, Hasan thought. "I'm
super excited for Hogwarts!" the girl went on, "I've read up on everything I can! Did you know that the Boy-Who-Lived will
be in our year? I can't wait to meet him! I bet he's super courageous. That would put him in Gryffindor, I suppose. I think
I'm much more of a Ravenclaw, but I don't know. I'd really love to be with Harry."

Hasan gulped, "Harry?"

"Oh, yes? Didn't you know? Harry Potter's the Boy-Who-Lived! They say he's got a lightning bolt scar! Yes, right on his
forehead! You didn't know?"

Hasan nodded at her absently, though his mind was racing. The Boy-Who-Lived? Harry Potter? How could it be that a
muggleborn knew all this and yet, he did not? He'd have to ask Altair about it later.

"Oh, I really like your owl by the way!" Hermione continued, peering at Raven through the bars. "I think I might need one to
send letters home and such."

"Perhaps a grey and white one? I've already got names picked out! Most are saints or have Greek significance...What's
your owl's name?"

"Er, Raven." Hasan cringed.

"How creative!" Hermione beamed. "She's so small. It is a she, isn't it? Good, thank goodness! I would never have
thought of a name like Raven to name an owl..." While she was rambling, Raven let out a sweet low hoot, and Hermione
giggled at its adorableness.

"Oh, who's this dear?" Hermione's mother came over to greet him finally, when Hermione was seen engaged in avid
conversation. Her mother had perfect white teeth and the same curly brown hair, though much calmer looking than her
daughter's.

"This is Hasan, mum! Hasan, this is my mum!"

"How do you do, Hasan? I'm Helen Granger, and that's my husband Jeremy."

"Hello, Mrs. Granger." Hasan said politely.

"Is this your first year at Hogwarts, too?" she asked kindly. She wanted to help her daughter establish relationships
before she was out of their grasp. It wasn't that Hermione had trouble making friends, well, it was just that others were
jealous of her natural talents! Anyway, Helen mentally shook herself, she wanted what was best for her baby girl.
Perhaps that's why her smile came off as so saccharine. Ironic really for a dentist.
"Yes, it is." Hasan told her proudly. "I understand Hermione's going to be in my year too. At least we'll both be going in
with a friend." Hasan said this all with such innocence that Hermione's eyes watered, and Helen's gratitude rolled off her
in waves.

"Oh, do you really mean it Hasan? I mean, I'm so glad we're friends!" Hermione squealed, before fluidly hugging him
within her step. Helen beamed at the two children, knowing that Hasan was a good match for her child. Hermione could
be somewhat pushy at times, but Hasan seemed calm and patient enough to take it.

"Hermione, did you want that book?" Helen asked, needing a diversion to stop her from tearing up, by pointing to the
reaction chart. Hermione nodded vigorously- she would never deny more books- and Helen called her husband over (he
was currently admiring some no-grease: hair protector,) to pay for it. That's when Altair made his appearance, looking
one minute like an ominous secret agent emerging behind a shelf, the next like a welcoming old father.

"Hello, pleased to meet you. Altair Castell at your service!" Altair smiled broadly at Hermione and her mother alternatively.

"Helen, a pleasure, and this is my daughter Hermione."

"She's a first year just like me." Hasan whispered helpfully. Altair nodded, glad to be privy of such information when he
could 'stick a face to it,' and said with as much regret as he could muster: "I'm terribly sorry, but Hasan and I must get
going..."

"Oh don't be, we were just on our way as well!" Helen informed them as Jeremy returned with the now paid for book.
Hermione gave Hasan one last tentative hug before scampering after her parents to the Owl Emporium.

"Muggleborn?" Altair asked lightly as they exited the shop and headed to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Yes. She seems rather bright for an eleven year old." Hasan remarked.

"Right, because it is such a pain to be around dunderheads all the time, isn't it?" Altair joked, knowing that Hasan was
wise beyond his years.

"Of course." Hasan returned playfully as they turned into the pub.

.oOo.

The interior of the Leaky Cauldron was just as Hasan remembered: it was warm, cozy, and extraordinarily loud! They
ordered their food and Hasan got a hot chocolate as Altair drank his butterbeer. Hasan looked around at all the witches
and wizards before noticing a rather large man. His head nearly reached the ceiling! And that was saying something for
the ceiling was quite high.

"Ah! That is Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of the keys at Hogwarts." Altair said, following his son's gaze. "I think he's also half-
giant... or at least that's what I've heard." (Altair tended to hear all sorts of odd knowledge.)

Hasan listened closely as the half-giant began to speak animatedly with Tom:

"An' I delivered 'im there! I took 'im ter live with those muggles! Even the headmaster thought it was fer the best!" Hagrid
wailed quietly.

"Perhaps he has been adopted by someone else?" Tom suggested helplessly.

"No, I wen ter the orphanage righ' before an' they say they've never seen 'im. Those muggles were lying! Probably turned
'im out on the streets!" Hagrid sighed. "Well, if ya see 'im. I've a got ter get a package fer Professor Dumbledore."

With that, Hagrid made to leave, except that he bumped into someone he greeted as Professor Quirrell. Quirrell seemed
to babble a lot and his eyes kept dancing frantically around the room. Altair made a grunt that captured Hasan's attention
immediately.

"What is it?" Hasan enquired.

"That...man. Stay away from him, Hasan. I'm getting rolls of dark magic off him." The likes of which he hadn't even seen
since...the Dark Lord. "I think he's going to be teaching, just try not to get any detentions with him..." Altair whispered.

"Dark magic?" Hasan enquired. "If he teaches DADA, then shouldn't he be exposed-?"

Altair was shaking his head. "This is different Hasan. Very different."
.oOo.

After their early dinner, Altair and Hasan were on their merry way to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, when in the
distance, a group of wizards in brown trench coats were huddled in front of Gringott's.

"Aurors?" Hasan asked. Altair nodded grimly and led Hasan away. "Why are there aurors?" he asked again when Altair
ignored him. "They couldn't have found you, you know. Maybe they're looking for that missing boy. The one Hagrid was
talking about?"

Altair frowned. He was torn between staying and giving Hasan a treat of freedom, but he was also terrified. Aurors were
aurors no matter their current purpose and if somehow, they recognized him. Asked him a question. Saw Hasan with
him. Oh, dear. He quickly cast another glamor to turn his hair gray, before he was comfortable enough to continue on to
the parlor.

Hasan held on to his owl's cage, while his supplies were shrunken in his jeans' pocket. He waited patiently on the
bench, staring curiously at the aurors across the street. Where they really here for one missing boy? Hasan thought back
to when he had run off from Penelope's House and how no one had sent a search party out for him. Yet he couldn't bring
himself to be jealous because he was just too grateful to be here. Now. In Diagon Alley. Altair had come to find him, and
that was worth more than a bunch of Ministry minions anyway. Besides, he wouldn't have appreciated the attention. He
felt safely tucked away behind jade green irises and dark brown hair. They were his mask of sorts, even if he knew what
emerald was lurking beneath.

Suddenly, a blonde-haired boy was right in front of him, giving Raven a pointed look. When he noticed that Hasan had
seen him, he straightened his posture, and said in a rather haughty voice,-

"Draco Malfoy." He had platinum blonde hair, and piercing grey eyes (for a kid at least), with a pointed chin and slight
mouth. Gray robes hung over a green vest and dark gray trousers, giving him an overall studious look. "What's your
name?" he all but demanded, assessing Hasan from head to toe. He seemed to decide Hasan was decent enough to
be seen with for he sat himself down next to him. Hasan glimpsed Altair out of the corner of his eye- he was still in line,
behind a woman with bubblegum pink hair.

"I call myself Hasan."

"You call yourself?" Draco repeated dubiously.

"Yeah, I grew up in France." Hasan explained (having come up with this years ago.) "In French, we say 'Je m'appelle,'
which means I call myself."

For fear of looking slow, Draco nodded as if he understood.

"You don't have a French accent." he pointed out.

"My father's British. I rarely leave the house." Hasan said as if it were obvious. In reality, Altair just cast spells on them so
that they could understand and speak French fluently, but Hasan had picked up a few things here and there. Draco
blinked in surprise before smiling slightly. A recovery, Hasan noted with interest, and not a fast one either. Though he
was beginning to see potential in the Malfoy boy. He adapted quickly (enough) and knew good fashion when he saw it,
Hasan thought with a smirk.

"What house do you think you'll be in at Hogwarts?" Draco asked, ready to move onto a subject he knew something
about.

"They all sound good," Hasan sidestepped the question, "And you?"

"Slytherin!" Draco said proudly. "My whole family's been in Slytherin, can you imagine being a Hufflepuff?" he laughed a
bit at his own joke before he noticed a tall, white-haired man loom over them. He had two ice-cream cones in his hand,
one with chocolate and one with vanilla- it kind of nullified his ominousness.

"Come on, Hasan." his voice was low but left no room for argument. Hasan let a mask slip onto his face, not knowing if
he did something wrong, or if the aurors had come or if Draco was also covered in dark magic. He gave Draco a polite
nod before letting himself be dragged off. Once they were out of earshot, Altair handed him the cone and told him they
were leaving. Too many aurors, too many faces.

But Hasan knew better. As they were leaving, he managed to see a taller, prouder, and much more dangerous version of
Draco emerge from where he must have been spying in the tiny shop next door. The blonde man that reminded Hasan of
a type of older and more sinister Legolas, turned slowly to fix Hasan Castell in a predatory stare. He murmured a few
words to his son, Draco, who then looked over at Hasan rather tactlessly, before Hasan was hidden by the crowd. It was
palpable now that Altair had been scared of this boy and his father, and that just caused more questions to arise. He
resolved to ask about this later as Altair apparated them out.

Draco looked from Hasan to the old white-haired man, back to his father.

"Oh, that's Hasan!" Draco answered. "He seems nice enough. Pureblood I expect."

"And his companion?" Lucius enquired.

"I'm not sure. He looks old enough to be his grandfather."

"You didn't get a last name?"

At this, Draco was looking at his father suspiciously. He never asked a lot of questions unless he knew the answer and
was waiting for Draco to come to the same conclusions. But what conclusions could be drawn from a simple hello?

"No, father. They're from France, I think." Draco added rapidly, trying to appease his father. "Why? Is Hasan not a
pureblood?" Draco was beginning to get very worried. His father disliked mudbloods, blood traitors, and muggles with a
passion, and Draco had better avoid them if he could help it, not initiate a conversation and then been seen with the kid!

Lucius thought for a moment, then replied.

"I want you to keep an eye on him, Draco. I am not aware of a Hasan on the Black Family Tree, but that would be
explained if he is from France. I do wonder why he's going to Hogwarts then if he's closer to Beauxbatons."

"He didn't have an accent either." Draco said. "But I'll keep my eye on him, Father... Oh, Mother!" he exclaimed, as the
golden-blonde witch advanced with bags full of clothes...

Thank you to:

Call Me Crazy 'Cause I Am, magicanimegurl, blondeperson, MidnightYoshi67, Fae0306, Nagilover4ever, adenoide
(guest), RebeliousOne, dragoon109, geetac, RebeccaRoy, medward, oneeyereader, The Dark One Rising, daithi4377,
and Post U Later

for the lovely reviews!

A/N-

*There's a really nice poem by this name "I am not I"

Did you like it? I think I did alright with Hermione and Draco. I'm going to try and keep them as much as in character
as possible. Sorry if Hermione seems a little OOC.

(Also, I plan on Hermione staying Hasan's friend. Ron will have his on and offs, but Hermione is definitely going to be in
the story. Sorry guys. Keep in mind that they are only in their first year, which I'm condensing quite a bit. Hermione's
morals and stubborn views on Wizarding society will start up in CoS, so we have one more year to go. For now, she'll be
that character I need to connect Slytherins with Gryffindors.)

Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far! I really appreciate all of your reviews, especially
the ones on pairings.

If you could please vote?

1) Hermione/Ron

2) Hermione/Theo

Next up: The Hogwarts Express

*Chapter 4*: The Hogwarts Express
A/N- Someone mentioned that Hasan didn't need to undergo some ritual to change his appearance. But let me remind
you, this is Harry Potter, master of exceptions! His looks are much more powerful than a simple glamor, so no one would
detect it...unless they're Ollivander...I don't know how Ollivander knows all of this stuff, but in this fanfiction he does!

Also, Altair didn't exactly legally adopt Hasan. The manila folder was a farce, and Altair made sure to destroy all other
legal documents. (Let's just say he set things on fire at the orphanage before reading them first, because he does NOT
know who Hasan really is.)

I was planning to update later, but my cousin just got married yesterday and I thought it would be nice to post something
for you all!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 4: The Hogwarts Express

Their ice cream was mostly finished now, eaten carefully and somewhat sadly in their hidden manor. Hasan wished they
could have finished them in Diagon Alley- it would have made his birthday complete- but he also knew there was a
reason why they had to have left. And Hasan was going to get to the bottom of it.

Hasan watched his dad, whom had already finished his cone, down his last potion of the month, shudder, and then put
the stopper back in. They were sitting in the living room, where on his first day there, Altair had magicked a bed across
from the kitchen. Today, the two couches sat perpendicular with the longer one facing the fireplace, and the shorter one
with its back to the kitchen. Hasan bit off the bottom of his cone, and then turned to stare at his father. His school
supplies were already packed away, and his new owl, Raven, was sleeping in her cage on top of the trunk.

Altair noticed Hasan's look and feigned ignorance, but he was never one to put up with unsaid conversations. He ended
up sighing and asking the inevitable question:

"What?"

Hasan bit his lower lip, an affectation he had adopted for his demeanor of 'Hasan,' dull jade eyes studying his father's
now brown hair, (the white hair was kind of odd, so Altair had taken down the glamour as soon as they arrived), as he
began the interrogation.

"Why haven't I ever heard of the Dark Lord?" His words hung in the heavy air, betrayal infused with the slight strain on his
voice. "Why did Hermione Granger, that muggleborn witch I've met today, know more about Wizarding society than me?
Have you been lying to me? Keeping things from me? Is this why you've been training me? Because of some Dark Lord
who's supposed to be dead?"

Altair flinched back at his son's harsh words. Hasan didn't shout, he didn't ask questions that Altair didn't have the
answers to, but this came too close. Too uncomfortably close to a truth Altair had wished to delay the disclosure of.

"Hasan..." he began heavily, "Do you remember when I adopted you?"

"Yes. You set the bloody folder on fire before I knew what magic was." Hasan answered apathetically, wondering where
this was going.

Altair chuckled at the memory, but the sound was half-hearted and pitifully melancholy.

"And you know I must take those potions twice a month." Altair said, gesturing to the vial.

Hasan nodded. Yes, he wasn't a complete idiot.

"I am alive, you know. But what does that have to do with me?"

"Oh, I'm not sure if I should work backwards or forwards." Altair sighed to himself. "Well, let's start backwards until I can't
retell any further, alright?...So I found you at the Leaky Cauldron, tracing you from Penelope's House to there. I suppose
you assumed I had just cast a point-me or something, but we found out later that you're unplottable. I can only guess that
you've had a tracking charm on you before and your magic rejected it in a time of need. I suppose that raises more
questions though, like who and why, but the point is that I did not cast a spell to find you."
Hasan nodded slowly, watching his father's face for signs of distress or indications of falsehood. He only found a tired
man, made to turn out his only valuable possessions. But Hasan didn't care. This man had lied to him! Or at least hid
the truth, and though nothing could indict him yet, there must have been a reason for the secrecy.

"How did you find me then?" Hasan asked to get the story moving along.

"I followed your magical aura." Altair said, a proud gleam in his eyes. "Yours was so powerful and...pure. I have the ability
to sense magic in that way, which was why I had to leave the wand shop or risk a killer headache. These Muted Sight
potions nullify my power, or dampen it at worst. But I was not born with this power, this Magic Sight. I had taken a random
assortment of potions, many years ago, hoping that it would kill me. It did not."

"You tried to kill yourself, but instead got a power. You found an orphan with power and adopted him, and you hide in
France when it's clear you belong in Britain. Why kill yourself? What was the alternative? Was someone after you— it
was...the Dark Lord wasn't it?"

"Yes, Hasan, the Dark Lord." Altair shuddered. "V-v-voldem-mort."

"Flight of death." Hasan whispered. "It's French, so why are we hiding in France if you're trying to get away,...unless he too
belongs to Britain."

"Yes, he was British, and he was a madman. He wa-is obsessed with blood-purity and immortality! The former was how
he gained his initial followers. The latter was what twisted him beyond repair. His name was Tom, did you know that?"
Altair trailed off.

"But he's gone." Hasan whispered. "Hermione said that the Boy-Who-Lived killed him." She also said that the Boy-Who-
Lived was Harry Potter, and that he would be coming to Hogwarts this year. Hasan shoved these thoughts down, not
wanting to have to deal with the guilt of his deception. Hypocrite, indeed, he was hiding more than his father would have
ever thought.

"I've heard that rumor too." Altair sighed. Hasan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you not telling me? Why was
Voldemort after you?"

"I'm not a great Potions Master, or a skilled duelist, but you see, I've got this knack of getting into things I shouldn't. Not
that Voldemort cared about luck, but I would have made the superb spy. The Dark Lord wanted to install one into
Hogwarts, and I was truly terrified. The Dark Lord killed millions of families during the First Wizarding War. He was a
ruthless killer, something entirely less than human! I had to get away, so I drank the potions. It was a bargain, but my luck
pulled me through."

"You don't seem to rely on luck much now." Hasan remarked dryly, remembering the grueling training sessions
accompanied with the words 'luck can't save you all the time.' "And I'd wager, you don't believe Voldemort's gone either."
Altair really did flinch. "What?"

"You-Know-Who, or the Dark Lord. Never Voldemort." Altair said. He had wished to keep from saying this, but he really
didn't want to hear that name more than was necessary. Besides, what would Hogwarts think of a boy who said
Voldemort?

"Okay, the Dark Lord..." Hasan paused, knowing that fear over a name was stupid, but respected his dad enough to
abide by his request. He thought over the day and how many questions he had over it. "Why did we have to leave just
now? And don't tell me you were seen, you couldn't have been if you faked your own death, and I know for a fact it wasn't
the aurors."

"Got me there." Altair grumbled. "That boy you were with...he just looked familiar, that's all." Altair tried to keep an air of
nonchalance, but a heavy sadness drew over him like a shroud. Hasan remembered the cool stare of Draco's father and
knew that his father must have known him. Perhaps at Hogwarts.

"His father." Hasan breathed. "You knew his father."

Altair nodded, looking suddenly as if miles away.

"Yes, Lucius Malfoy. He practically runs the Ministry of Magic with all the wealth he's got. Not to mention other incentives.
He's a right bastard, through and through."

"He's dangerous, basically." Hasan confirmed slowly.

"Yes."
"He was a supporter of the Dark Lord?"

A nod. "Yes, he is."

"And you aren't forbidding me from befriending his son?"

Altair hesitated. "N-no."

"Even if his father wants him to watch me?"

"How did you-?"

"I figured." Hasan yawned. "Draco made it pretty obvious that they were discussing me. If you had forbidden me from
seeing him, it would only cause suspicion. His father would want to know why I was avoiding them, and if they thought
my parents had something to do with it, then they might just pry a little too far."

Altair smiled proudly at his son. "Sometimes I forget just how smart you are. You'll do great at Hogwarts, I know it."

"Thanks dad."

"And don't forget it. Just because I didn't give birth to you doesn't me you aren't my son."

"Dad!" Hasan laughed.

"Go to bed, son. Maybe even crack open a potions journal- there's no need to hide what I take any longer."

Hasan obeyed, eager to learn more.

But Altair stayed up many hours later.

.oOo.

"ALBUS! I TOLD YOU THAT THOSE MUGGLES WERE GOOD FOR NOTHING ORDINARY OBSESSED PEOPLE!"

"Minerva, dear!"

"DON'T YOU DARE 'DEAR' ME, ALBUS!"

Pomona glanced at Poppy uncomfortably as they entered the room side-by-side. Minerva and Albus were usually in total
agreement, so when they had been called up to the headmaster's office, they had not expected to find one irritated
Severus Snape (actually they had), one distraught Hagrid, and exactly one Albus and one Minerva at war.

"What's going on?" Pomona ventured as she drew closer into the room.

"Ask him!" Minerva screeched, pointing accusingly at Albus.

"Albus?" Pomona enquired. Albus shuddered slightly before answering rather reluctantly, as if ashamed of his past
actions.

"Yes, well...(Albus cleared his throat.) Ten years ago, Harry Potter was taken to his aunt and uncle's house, related
through Lily—"

"Professor Dumbledore, no! It was ME! I took 'im there! I sentenced lil' Harry to those terrible muggles!"

"Be quiet, Hagrid!" Minerva said sharply, having already had enough of his wails, "It was not your fault! Alb us and I came
later and could have taken Harry away if only someone hadn't insisted on the bloodwards. Which, by the way, were not
detected at the Dursley residence last time I checked!"

Albus had the sense to look abashed.

"Minerva, what are you saying?" Poppy piped up. "Is Harry not going to come to Hogwarts?"

"Oh, just like his father! Too cool to show up to get an education!" Severus sneered. His lips pressed into a fine line as
he continued his mental libel.

"Severus, is that really necessary? Harry isn't James, besides, you haven't even met the kid." Poppy chided, then turning
to Albus. "Now, Albus, what's the matter?"
"Harry's gone." Albus said quietly. There was a hush that fell over the room. "His relatives dropped him off at an
orphanage near London called Penelope's House, when he was just four. When Hagrid went to the orphanage in search
of answers, the one manager had no recollection whatsoever of such a boy existing. None of the kids did either."

"But surely their memories could have been tampered with!" Pomona shouted outraged. How could you just lose a kid?
Harry Potter, no less!

"Yes, we thought of that. But either the person who erased the memories was talented enough to not leave any traces, or
the Dursley's lied, which isn't so hard to believe. Did you know they made the boy live in the cupboard under the stairs?"
Minerva exclaimed. "Yes! We searched the house and there had been signs of someone actually living under the stairs!"

There was a long silence, only broken by Snape's usual insightfulness.

"If he does not show up tomorrow, the Wizarding World will be in an uproar. I suggest we fabricate some sort of story that
the Boy-Who-Lived is off training in the mountains." He tried, really he did, to not sneer Harry's epitaph, because he was,
really and truly, concerned. Which was funny really, seeing how he was determined to hate the Potter boy.

"And when he's not here next year and the year after?" Poppy shook her head. "No, this is just terrible! Does the rest of
the staff know?"

"Only a few." Albus said. "I'll continue to see if I can reactivate the tracking charm I've placed on him, and then we'll look
into scrying..."

The staff members nodded solemnly as the truth sunk in. Harry Potter, the boy they had been waiting for forever, the boy
who they'd talked of during staff meetings, and the boy who was the savior of the Wizarding World was missing. And if
Dumbledore couldn't find him, then it was a very worrying thing indeed.

"What's odd about this," Minerva started quietly, "is that the book hasn't erased his name." She walked to the back of the
office, and summoned the large tome underneath the sorting hat. The book opened to the correct page as if reading her
thoughts, and she placed it on the headmaster's desk. Written in beautiful script was the list of this generation of
Hogwart's students, ranging from Hannah Abbott to Blaise Zabini.

They frowned at the not-crossed-out name of Harry Potter asking themselves what it could possibly mean. That had
gone over the list of students so many times that it seemed so real and natural that Harry Potter would be coming this
year. Apparently he would not.

"We still need to prepare for the Welcoming Feast." Albus said sadly, dismissing the rest of the staff with a wave of his
arm. Sad glances caught each other as they walked out. How could this have happened?

What no one by Severus saw, however, was a rather peculiar jotting of Hasan Castell. Severus made no indication of
having seen it, though, and swept immediately to the dungeons upon being dismissed. Striding down to the Potions
Classroom, he thought of the Muted Sights potion he had yet to make for September for a certain Altair Castell. Why the
idiot decided that ingesting mystery potions was the best way out, Severus would never know, but what he did know, was
that Altair did not have a son. He knew this positively, as did the rest of the Death Eaters sent to investigate his sudden
disappearance.

Perhaps the boy was adopted then? How odd. Altair wasn't one to go out of his way, preferring to lay low least someone
recognize him from their school days. Still, it begged the question: How? And suddenly, Severus Snape wasn't so bored
at the prospect of more cretins entering the school. Even if one of those cretins was his own godson.

This was going to be an interesting year indeed.

.oOo.

(One Month Later.)

Altair Castell and Hasan materialized in a small alleyway near King's Cross Station.

"Here's your ticket, Hasan. Have a fun year, use that head of yours."

He kissed his son's brow and handed him his trunk and owl, before disappearing with a 'pop'. Hasan understood his
father's paranoia just a little bit better now, and didn't feel too bad about walking alone to the station, while everyone else
was surrounded by loving family. He passed a group of redheads, causing quite a cacophony in the parking lot, and
wondered how the mother could live with them all as he entered into the building.
Platform 9 and 3/4, easy right? Hasan looked around the large station, spotting the Platform 10 sign quite easily in the
distance. He hurried towards it, dragging his small trunk behind him, eager to be on his way to the Hogwarts Express.
But as he neared it, the tell-tale white-blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy was right in front of him. Shit indeed.

Next to Lucius was a lovely woman with golden hair, the tassels falling elegantly down her back. Both parents wore a set
of resplendent dark green robes, trimmed with black that looked silver when the light caught it. Draco was looking at the
wall apprehensively, wearing black robes with his platinum hair slicked back. He carried a small leather trunk, most
likely under a shrinking charm, and an owl in a silver cage in his other hand. The trunk's wheels slowed, indicating that
the family had just got there, and that Hasan had been following them for some time, despite not noticing it. Or maybe,
Draco was just scared.

"It's alright, Dragon, just walk right through. We'll be right behind you." the woman beamed, placing a comforting hand on
Draco's shoulder.

"A Malfoy is never scared." Lucius stated as sympathetically (or rather pathetically) as he could. Emotion wasn't exactly
his strong suit, at least, not directed at his son or wife, or any other family member. But he did have some fatherly
instincts that made him want to soothe Draco's worry, that, and he hardly needed people talking about Draco's
nervousness.

Draco gave a curt nod to his parents and stepped through the barrier, his mother right on his heels to be there for him on
the other side. Hasan found himself pondering a mother's affection for her child, and wondered absently if his mother
held any of the same sort of love for him. From Altair's patchy answers yesterday, Hasan had managed to stitch together
an accurate picture of Harry Potter's beginnings as well as discover a few other things:

First of all, the Dark Lord was rumored to be vanquished...by a one-year-old, (he had pieced his age together from the
Dursley's complaints. Apparently, he had intruded on the family when he was only a year old.) This meant that the Dark
Lord had probably killed his parents. For, apart from the Dursley's, who would leave a baby unsupervised?

Second, Lucius Malfoy and Altair knew each other and Altair was terrified of discovery, yet, he was allowed to befriend the
Malfoy heir because Altair loved him like a son.

Third, Lucius Malfoy was a follower of Lord Voldemort, who was not dead (if Altair was correct), which meant if Voldemort
came back and decided to kill him again- a very likely possibility since he was known as the Boy-Who-Lived- Lucius
would probably want the glory of delivering Hasan to the Dark Lord.

So basically, Hasan would have to make sure Draco and he were very close in order to have a fair warning of his
possible death. Either by Draco going out of his way to find something out and report back to him, like a spy, or Draco's
behavior would be so familiar that he would give himself away by acting out of the ordinary.

Hasan was pretty complacent about his new plan. It was all common sense, really. Thoughts of friendship were so far off
the mark that Hasan didn't feel the least bit guilty about hoodwinking another innocent soul. He never had any friends,
and didn't entertain the prospect of gaining any more in the future. With these happy thoughts, Hasan watched Lucius
step through the barrier after his wife, and then he followed.

.oOo.

Hasan passed through the barrier gracefully, blinking in wonder at the sheer mass of hidden people. Families were
packed comfortably throughout the hustle and bustle, kissing reluctant kids, or beaming at eager children ready to be
sent off to yet another lovely year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hasan glimpsed the Malfoy's off talking with some other (probably pureblood) family, and walking away. Damn, they
moved fast. Hasan was actually in indecision at this point. He didn't want to make it so blatantly obvious as to follow
Draco like a lapdog, but he was determined to get close one way or another. Yet, why cut off your other options? He
smiled charmingly around the crowded station, and picked his way through until he reached a familiar face.

"Hasan!" the bushy haired witch screamed, running and giving him a hug. She was already in her witch's robes just as
Hasan was in his wizard's. The excited girl seemed to remember herself a minute later, however, because she hastily
removed herself from his person and blushed at the ground.

"Hello, Hermione!" Hasan replied smoothly, before beaming up at her parents. The mother looked extremely pleased
that Hasan had remembered her daughter, the father, on the other hand, looked positively calculating, probably to
remember his face in case Hasan 'messed' with his daughter later on in life. Helen seemed to know what Jeremy was
thinking for she nudged him slightly in the arm. The husband nodded then slapped a semi pleasant smile on his face,
seeing as Hermione was only eleven, but well, fathers will be fathers, and he was only looking out for her.
"I'm Jeremy, Hermione's father."

"Mr. Granger," Hasan smiled, "I call myself Hasan."

The man looked oddly at his sentence structure, but before he could comment, Hermione pounced.

"Where's your father?" Hermione queried innocently, looking around at the space behind him.

"He had to work really early today, but he was kind enough to drop me off." Hasan said cheerfully, though he felt anything
but.

"Oh, that's nice of him." Hermione agreed readily, but Hasan thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in her
chocolate brown eyes.

"I think the Express is scheduled to leave in five minutes." Helen remarked to Hermione's absolute excitement.

"I can't wait!" she squealed, hastily giving her parents a hug.

Hasan watched them as they embraced, with slowly blinking eyes. He added this to his list of things he knew about love
and family, which was admittedly very short, seeing as his only real (he used this word loosely for he was never quite
sure what real was) family was Altair, and even that was just for three years. Yet remarkably, Hasan didn't feel a pang of
jealousy, or regret at not having parents. Goodness knew he had his own moments of emotion but generally speaking,
he was rather unattached to his sensitive side. It wasn't like he knew his parents. It didn't make sense to mourn over
ideas.

As Hermione turned back around, her parent's handed her her owl and trunk, before she waved good-bye to them and
walked with Hasan to the Hogwarts Express.

"You've got an owl." Hasan observed, nodding to the gray and white feathered creature.

Hermione nodded eagerly. She had actually gotten in the owl in hopes of being more like Hasan, and having something
they might share. "I named him Caelus. After the sky god, you know?"

The two clambered aboard, and quickly found an empty compartment near the back of the train. Hasan put his trunk on
the floor and Raven beside him. Hermione watched him and then did much the same. Just as the train began to move,
blowing a cloud of steam with a high-pitched whistle, their compartment door slid open rather suddenly, revealing a pale,
red-headed boy with freckles dotting his nose.

"Er, hi." the newcomer said, letting himself inside and plopping his things down before glancing up wearily. "Um,
everywhere else is full." he said rather lamely. "Do you mind?"

Hermione glanced at Hasan before nodding her assent. The thing about Hermione was that she desperately wished for
friends, approval, or praise in general. This didn't make her a bad person or a weak person, but it did make her agree
rather easily to things she obviously wouldn't have been too sure of agreeing to otherwise. For instance, this boy's
manners clearly startled her (offense was too strong a word for the first encounter), but she wanted to make as many
friends as possible, whether that meant having this new boy's acceptance, or Hasan's approval.

"Hi, I'm Ron, Ron Weasley." the freckled boy said quietly, settling awkwardly next to Hasan. He kept about a foot of space
between them, his hands fidgeting as he looked at them both.

Weasley...Hasan vaguely remembered Altair saying that the Weasley's were what some considered blood-traitors. Altair
didn't believe in such inane drivel as blood prejudices, and had even began a study on why blood had no effect on one's
magical output.

"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione introduced herself quickly. "And that's Hasan Castell."

"Hello." Hasan said kindly, shaking the Weasley boy's hand. "That was close. Did you get here late?"

Ron's pallor suddenly flushed a brilliant tomato red. "Um, I came on time, but I was just looking for someone."

"Really, who?" Hermione asked with interest. Ron fidgeted some more before cracking.

"Harry Potter." Ron admitted with some reluctance.

"Why? Surely you know that he's been training in the mountains! It was in the Daily Prophet this morning!"
Wait, mountains? Hasan thought dubiously.

"Yeah, that's what the fifth compartment I checked told me." Ron said. "Knew I shouldn't have trusted Fred and George."
he muttered. Hasan assumed that these were just two of his brothers, the twins if he remembered correctly.

"It's odd, I know. All through August the aurors were searching Diagon Alley over for Harry Potter. It seemed they were
trying to keep his location under wraps from the Ministry, whoever sent him for training that is." Hermione said
thoughtfully.

Just then a tiny squeak could be heard from Ron's robe pocket. A tiny brown nose peaked out, and then a little rodent
head.

"You have a rat...as a pet?" Hermione stated, looking between the rat and Ron alternatively.

"His name's Scabbers, got him from Percy." Ron said proudly, taking the rodent in his hand. It's nose swiveled back and
forth in the air, as if dancing before looking back at Ron.

Hasan couldn't quite place it, but it seemed as if the rat had been listening. As if it were intelligent, as strange as that
seemed. Then again, he was riding on the Hogwarts Express to a magical school, so what did he know anymore?

"Hey, want to hear a spell?" Ron asked, which immediately caused Hermione to rave at top speed about everything she
had done and knew and learned for Hogwarts. Hasan had zoned out during this time, a time long enough for the sweets'
trolley to visit them (then pass on as Ron had a squished sandwich and Hermione was talking and Hasan didn't care),
until Hermione had gone silent, letting Ron actually start the spell.

"Sunshine daisies-" Hermione's frowned dubiously as she debated whether to tell him that it wasn't a spell. She wanted
to be polite, but she just knew things about spells, and that certainly was not a spell, "-Butter mellow!-"

Luckily, she needn't have worried so much over it, for the compartment door slid open at that precise moment. Hasan
picked his head up at this, finally something to break the boredom, and his eyes brightened considerably when he saw
the familiar face of Draco Malfoy, and two boys who looked more like bodyguards than friends, on either side of him.

"You call that a spell?" Draco sneered, glancing at Ron's wand hovering over the rat with distaste. "And what is that? A
rat? How fitting: hand-me-down robes, red hair and freckles. You must be a Weasley."

"Go away, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, though he quickly stowed his wand and rat away.

"No, you see, I actually want to talk to someone here."

"Who?" Ron asked challengingly, raising an eyebrow in such an amateur way that Hasan fought hard not to roll his eyes.
At least Hermione had more brains. She looked to Hasan with curious eyes, wondering if this new boy was a friend or a
foe.

"Hello, Hasan. I'm sorry we couldn't find you before now, but don't worry. We have room for you in our compartment."

"Who says he wants to leave with you?" Ron said, force wavering just a bit.

"Who wouldn't?" Draco then swept his eyes over Hermione and landed on Hasan. "You'll soon find that some witches
and wizards are better than others." His eyes lingered on Weasley as he said 'others'. "Come on, I can't stand to be in a
Weasel's presence any longer."

Hasan glanced at Draco's offered hand of friendship and resolved to start his plan.

"Of course." Hasan said evenly, somewhat amused as Ron gaped at him, while he grabbed his trunk and owl. Hermione
was staring at him sadly, not sure what to do anymore. "If only there's one more spot for an extremely intelligent witch."
Hasan knew he was laying it on thick, and that Ron was on the verge of a heart attack, but Hermione seemed too
intelligent (and too dependent) to let go. Hasan knew this witch had potential, and it all started with friendliness at the
beginning to gain a powerful ally in the future.

Draco didn't need to think twice, he only really wanted Hasan anyway. So what if he brought a friend along? He didn't
even ask if she was pureblood in his happiness.

"Whatever you wish."*

Hermione's face lit up at not being forgotten, but then she looked at Ron and frowned as her guilt took over. She didn't
want to be a hypocrite and abandon Ron, but then...Hasan smiled at her, and she remembered how nice the boy had
been the other day. And Ron had been incredibly rude by barging into their compartment. Really, Ron didn't belong with
them anyway. But even as she followed Hasan out of the compartment, guilt was flooding her heart.

.oOo.

Ron was gaping. What the bloody hell had just happened? He had thought he had friends, or, er acquaintances at least.
Leave it to Malfoy to take everything away from him just because his family was a bunch of blood-traitors. Ron didn't fully
understand the prejudice, but he knew it was wrong. So why did they follow him? Why Malfoy of all people? (Not that he
knew Draco at all). Perhaps he had been too assertive coming into their compartment. Maybe obnoxious even? Ron
frowned as he began to wonder: Well why wouldn't they go with Malfoy? At that moment, he decided on his own to be
more courteous. Maybe if he had, they wouldn't have left quite so quickly...He unwrapped his squished turkey sandwich
and ate sadly before a boy poked his head in and asked about his toad...

.oOo.

Meanwhile, Draco had sent his goons (introduced at Crabbe and Goyle) up ahead, so that he might get to chat with the
two first.

"I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly." Draco said superciliously. "Draco Malfoy." He held his hand out for
Hermione to shake, who did so carefully.

"Hermione Granger." she said quietly. Her eager attitude was somewhat dampened by her guilt, but in reality, Hasan
much preferred this less hyper version. Malfoy brought her small hand up to kiss delicately, thinking he might as well do
the whole nine yards.

"Granger...I'm afraid I haven't heard that name before." Draco turned his silver eyes to Hasan. "Is she a relative?"

"A muggleborn." Hasan said blandly, watching as Draco struggled for an inkling of what to do. Holy hell, he had just
kissed, not just touched and talked to, but kissed a mudblood!

"A mudblood?" Draco echoed, unable to stop himself. Apparently, he was unable to stop the derogatory tone in which he
said it, because Hermione was suddenly very nervous. Perhaps she should have stayed with Ron...She played with her
fingers and wet her lips unconsciously.

Hasan knew how offensive 'mudblood' was, yet he didn't appear to be too concerned. It was the same thing with
Voldemort, he reasoned. Words made people react a certain way, but words were entirely separated from the emotion. It
was like dominoes, a game he played at the orphanage a lot when it rained. He supposed his 'heartlessness' was just
another thing to mark him as weird.

"What's a mudblood?" Hermione whispered to Hasan, her curiosity outlasting her instinctual offense.

"Mudblood is a word only the filth of the Wizarding World use, Hermione. Don't be too upset that Draco's not a
thesaurus."

Filth? Filth! Malfoy's were many things but certainly not the scum of the Magical community! That lay with the mudbloods
and the blood-traitors. Why? Well, he wasn't entirely sure. Still, he was angry, and while angry, he reminded himself he
needed desperately to know Hasan...to please his dad. Actually, pleasing his dad would have been the answer to the
former question. His next question: What on earth was a thesaurus? But he knew he had to appease Hasan somehow,
so he quickly stuck a remorseful mask on his face and told Hermione in the nicest of terms:

"It's just a word, Hermione. I shouldn't have used it."

So, not a direct apology, but it was as close as anyone was bound to get! Besides, Hermione seemed to take
his...explanation at face value.

"Oh, erm. That's okay?"

He turned to Hasan who was eyeing him speculatively.

"I never meant to insinuate you were filth, Malfoy. I simply stated a fact." Hasan observed tonelessly.

It was then that Malfoy had that bitter experience of half-satisfation and half-indignation that came from a half-assed
apology. He then realized with a jolt that that was exactly what he had done to Hermione, but Malfoy's were Malfoy's, he
wasn't about to apologize again. Still, it peeved him that Hasan was able to create these emotions in him, but when he
looked up Hasan wasn't smug or complacent, he was just there. There existing and stating facts- just like he had said.

"Well, the compartment's this way," Draco said, leading them further down to a room on the left. Hasan followed, rather
bored, but Hermione was a bundle of nerves. Draco slid open the door, ushered them inside to be met with,-

"Dray, who're they?" a pug-faced girl asked with obvious disgust.

"My friends." Draco stated, shooting the girl a glare that basically dared her to make another noise. "This is Hermione
Granger-" Draco started with her first in order to get the whole blood thing out of the way. Predictably, Blaise Zabini, a
black boy with catlike eyes, quirked an eyebrow at her name.

"Draco, she's not a pureblood. Why'd you bring her here?" All the pureblood families were related in some way, and
Granger was certainly not on that list.

Draco fixed him with an icy Malfoy stare that made him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Blood has no effect on the mind, and Hermione despite her birth, clearly has a brilliant mind." Draco emphasized her
first name to indicate his approval and familiarity with her. Even if the others didn't like it, Draco was still the boss, and
exceptions were quite common.

Hasan's jade eyes widened imperceptibly since he knew Malfoy was totally winging this. But why was he going out on a
limb? Why not turn the girl out and say it was a mistake? Perhaps Malfoy really was desperate to spy on him through
gaining his favor...or maybe Draco was just so impressionable he was changing.

Some of the other members of the group were also quite surprised at this. Pug-face was still licking her wounds by
frowning at the ground, and Blaise appeared rather confused. Crabbe and Goyle didn't appear to be paying any attention,
while the other two, a quiet boy with light brown hair and a strong jaw, and a seemingly gentle girl with soft blue eyes and
strawberry blonde hair, were listening patiently.

"And him?" blue-eyes urged him along, while at the same time giving Hasan's long brown braid a curious glance.

"Hasan. We met at Diagon yesterday." Draco said, before sitting beside pug-face and indicating for Hasan to sit on the
other side of him, next to the door. Hermione seemed lost for a moment as Hasan and Draco left her standing alone,
before the blue-eyed girl offered the space beside her.

"What's his last name?" Blaise asked, seemingly under a compulsion charm to know everyone's blood status through
their last name.

"I-" Draco paused and then frowned. He didn't want to be seen as an idiot, so more for self-defense than common
courtesy he said, "Hasan is here you know. You can ask him."

The other occupants of the compartment turned expectantly to the jade-eyed boy. Hasan knew that out of all of Hogwarts,
these kids would immediately know what his last name meant. Then again, if Altair had really wanted secrecy, he
would've changed Hasan's last name so that the envelope would be addressed to someone else. (Come to think of it,
Hasan didn't know how the letters were addressed.) Or better yet, send him to Beauxbatons.

So having happily deduced there was no harm in telling these kids what would soon become common knowledge, he
elucidated their oh-so-pressing curiosity.

"Hasan Castell."

Thank you to:

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for the really awesome 40 reviews!

A/N-
*This is something I think Lucius would say, and since Draco emulates his father in the earlier books, I think it's fine if
Draco says "As you wish."

I'm really sorry if Hermione seems OOC for a bit, but I think that since we get to hear her thoughts in this and not in the
books, it changes the impression she makes. Also, she knows Hasan from Diagon Alley, and we can assume her
mother was pumping her up with "Friend" garbage. This adds a whole other layer to how she views Hasan. No longer is
she just independently making friends, now she has listened to her mother saying that this boy wants to be friends, and
that can have a big effect on her confidence.

I think Ron's a pretty decent guy when he's not blinded by envy, so there's not going to be too much Ron-bashing! (Yet...)
Rest assured he will not be a main character.

As for Draco, he's pretty impressionable at a young age. Lucius basically brainwashed him, for we find out later Draco
isn't half bad. He's not going to make a miraculous turnaround. But initially, he might do things or tolerate things just to
get on Hasan's good side.

Hopefully the OOCness will be gone when they grow up some. Really sorry if it bothers some of you! However, I'm trying
to keep many of the Slytherins in character, and that means Blaise is extremely prejudice about blood status, and Theo
is a bit of a loner. I like Tracey and Daphne though because they are hardly even mentioned in the books! Freedom!

Thanks for the pairings help! But as I'm planning the rest of this story I've come to a road block:

Who should be involved in Hasan's life? (Please vote! and you can vote for multiple)

1) Severus

2) Minerva

3) Sirius

4) Remus

Thank you!

Next Chapter: Sorting and Classes

*Chapter 5*: Sorting and Classes
A/N- I know it's been a while, and sadly, it will only get longer from here. :(

This story will indeed be Harry/Luna, Hermione/Theo, but I will be keeping with canon in that Luna doesn't appear until
CoS. Please remember that they are eleven! No romance shall blossom for another year yet! (Sorry!)

So, without further ado, Enjoy!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 5: Sorting and Classes

"Hasan Castell."

As soon as the name left his lips, he was sure there would be much more commentary on blood this or family that. What
he was not expecting were several blank looks, interspersed between confused glances.

"Castell...?" Blaise repeated quietly for the group, glancing at the faces of his Slytherin friends as if searching for clues.
Finally, the little pundit seemed to have racked his brains through his entire library full of extensive pureblood knowledge,
for he gave up and just decided to ask the damning question: "Are you pureblood?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" strong-jaw muttered, rolling his eyes much to Hasan's amusement. "Blood doesn't dictate
everything!" With this, he met Hermione's eyes steadily, before biting his lip and looking hastily away. Tracey caught the
glance and stifled a smirk behind her hand. The exchange captured Draco and Pansy's attention at least, which was
good he supposed, because Hasan wasn't entirely sure what to say.

He knew he was Harry Potter, and though Altair had most helpfully kept away any knowledge of Harry Potter from him,
Hasan had indeed figured out some things on his own. If Voldemort (he insisted on saying his name inside his head at
least), was so obsessed over blood purity like Altair had told him, then the Potter's were probably not pureblood. The
imperio would have taken care of opposition if they were, but if they were not, it wouldn't be worth the hassle. This left the
options of half-blood and muggleborn, and Hasan was pretty sure his parents weren't muggles. (For this would ask the
question: Why had Voldemort gone after those particular muggles? Why not massacre the lot?) In addition, Hasan was
pretty sure Draco wouldn't appreciate defending yet another muggleborn.

"Half-blood." Hasan answered promptly, and then he realized he was an idiot: Altair Castell was a pureblood. Oh, if they
just looked up the name! He thought rapidly and added, "I'm from France so we may have distant relatives in Britain
under the same name?...Désolé, sorry."

He knew it was an unnecessary precaution, a bit of fine print that would probably cause even more suspicion (should
they choose to pry), but now Hasan had a safety net: if they found out the Castell's were pureblood then they'd just think,
b ut oh, Hasan's from France...Nothing like the prospect of international research to shake curious Slytherins from a
search!

"Like Bulstrode." Pug-face cut in, "Not bad I suppose." she nodded reluctantly. Blaise still seemed putout, but otherwise
didn't comment.

"I think it's only fair we know your names." Hasan said. Hermione nodded her agreement readily and Draco began roll-
call.

"This is Pansy Parkinson." Draco said, indicating to Pug-face next to him. "That's Crabbe and Goyle, you have already
met them, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott beside him (that was strong jaw) and finally Tracey Davis beside Hermione.
We're such a large group that some of the girls had to go to the next room."

"And what group would that be?" Hermione asked, seeming to be more comfortable with asking questions with Tracey
by her side, and Theo smiling from across.

"Well, we all expect to be sorted into Slytherin." Tracey informed her matter-of-factly. "It's, er, it's a house at Hogwarts."

Hermione flushed profusely, "I know, I read Hogwarts: A History."

"Wow, I haven't even cracked a book open yet." Theo said in admiration.
"Oh, well, I was excited." Hermione admitted, a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

"Of course you were-" Pansy muttered, just barely restraining herself from tacking on 'Mudblood' for fear of offending
Draco.

The rest of the train ride passed much in the same fashion: Theo and Tracey being nice. Pansy trying to get Draco's
attention, and Hasan watching everyone closely. By the end of the ride, Hermione felt she had made a new friend.
Hasan, on the other hand, was busy entertaining Draco with petty questions like "What is your owl's name?...Why is that
your owl's name?"

Draco was easy enough to keep occupied, his favorite subject was soon discovered: himself.

This was going to be much easier than he thought.

.oOo.

Hagrid watched as the last of them piled in the little boats. He tried suppressing a salty giant tear that was gathering in
his eye, but it grew too heavy and dampened his large, wild beard. He was sure he would recognize Harry anywhere.

Those emerald eyes, Lily's eyes...they couldn't possibly remain hidden, nor ever be forgotten! The Daily Prophet had
already come out with an article with Snape's proposed "Out-in-the-mountains" plan, and therefore the kids weren't as
crazy about searching for the Boy-Who-Lived amongst their ranks. Yet he did catch a few that continually looked about
them, that Longbottom boy for one, he seemed to be searching for something rather intently...all Hagrid could do was
smile, hold back tears and announce to the next generation of students that Hogwarts would now, and forever, be their
home and family.

.oOo.

A tall, stern looking witch in rich green robes and a pointed green witch's hat met them at the entrance of the Great Hall.
Her name was Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
and she had a very elegant air about her that Hasan immediately latched onto. As she explained to the first years the
Opening Feast, the Sorting Ceremony they were soon to take part in, the house points, and the house cup, Hasan
noticed her eyes rove over them keenly, yet half-heartedly, as if searching for something she knew to be gone. She
nodded firmly before bursting open the double doors of the Great Hall...

Hermione stuck very close to Hasan, almost annoyingly so, who in turn was never more than three feet away from Draco
(and certainly not from Hasan's doing). Nearby, Ron Weasley could be seen with a boy who introduced himself with "Hi,
I'm Neville Longbottom. Have you seen my toad?" Ron sent a half-longing half-loathing glance their way before blinking,
rather startled as a loud RRRRRIBBET! cut through the air.

Even Professor McGonagall looked startled for a moment before Neville cried,-

"TREVOR!" and tried desperately to catch the hopping toad. Most of the girls shrieked, and cringed back in terror, which in
turn caused some of the occupants of the Great Hall, closest to the doors, to look outside in curiosity. Oh, those funny
first years!

"Neville! Catch him!"

"He's over here! Eeeeek!"

"Neville!"

"Longbottom!"

By the time Neville had managed to grasp the poor toad with both of his hands, most of the Great Hall was talking about
the strange boy named Neville and his funny toad named Trevor, making his cheeks flush form pink to scarlet.
McGonagall sighed, giving Neville a sympathetic look with the words "Keep a good hold on him now," before leading the
first years up the center of the hall, so that they could begin the Sorting.

Hasan gazed at the enchanted ceiling in awe, through the millions of floating candles, thinking how wonderful magic
was. Apparently others did too as they goggled at it, and Professor McGonagall had to quickly inform them that it was
enchanted to show the actual sky above Hogwarts before their chatter got too out of hand. As the kids came into view,
whispers of Neville soon dissolved into gossip of the Boy-Who-Lived, and 'Did you see that Daily Prophet article?' 'Yeah,
what a letdown.'
Despite knowing that the Wizarding World's savior was off fighting mountainous dragons and such, the rest of the school
had more enthusiasm than ever in examining the fresh meat. Neville was easy to spot out as his face was still flushed,
that and he was standing next to Ron Weasley with his flaming hair. It also didn't help that two kids in the crowd (Fred
and George, Hasan's mind supplied) kept shouting things like "Ickle Ronnykins!" drawing even more attention to the
flaming duo.

When the noise had quieted down some, an ancient, weary man walked up to the front of the staff table, wearing sky
blue, shimmering robes and a floppy blue hat. He reminded Hasan of a very elderly Gandalf, if there was such a thing,
and he seemed to protrude wisdom and magic. He also had twinkling starry blue eyes resting behind a pair of half-
moon spectacles that seemed to give him a grandfatherly glow. But Hasan knew better- he didn't need Altair's weird
ability to be able to tell that this wizard was a force to be reckoned with...

Dumbledore said some artful nonsense, something about the third floor corridor being forbidden, and some other
things about Harry Potter training in the mountains that Hasan didn't particularly care about. No, he was much more
interested in the people sitting b ehind Professor Dumbledore than Professor Dumbledore himself.

The first teacher to catch his interest was Hagrid, some part giant, he was sure, but only because he was so hard to
miss and Hasan had seen him twice already- once in the Leaky Cauldron, once at the boats. He looked a bit distraught
over something, and continually dabbed his leaking eyes with his cloth napkin.

Logically, the second Hasan's eyes sought out was Professor Quirrell, wearing a gaudy purple turban, probably called
amethyst to make him feel better. Quirrell was odd, and even from far away, Hasan knew that his father was probably
right: this man was dark and most likely hiding something. Probably under an analogous turban...how funny...until their
eyes met and Hasan received the tiniest yet sharpest of pinpricks to his forehead. Gods, it just felt so...painful! He made
no movement, though, not hinting that anything was wrong, even as Quirrell turned his attention away from him, his
mask did not fall. The pinpricks disappeared immediately and Hasan was left wondering why on earth he had reacted
like that. The scar...He'd ponder it later, he decided as his gaze fell on the greasy-haired man beside the DADA professor.

This man had stern features too, yet was so unlike McGonagall (not that he had proof of that yet), that he couldn't help but
bite his lip and frown. Greasy-Hair had a slightly hooked nose, sallow cheeks and thin lips, a gaunt figure overall, yet
Hasan could tell his eyes were a glittering, obsidian black. He peered at Hasan with remarkable focus, and Hasan
peered back-

"Oh, that's Severus Snape, my godfather." Draco drawled proudly. But just at that moment, Snape turned his entire head
ever so fractionally towards the first years in general, and Hasan immediately snapped his attention back to the front.
(Draco caught his eye and waved though, which was met by a barely palpable nod.)

Presently, Professor Dumbledore took a slight bow and students cheered as Professor McGonagall quickly slipped in
his place. She held up an old, fraying black hat, probably older than Dumbledore, and declared it to be the Hogwarts
Sorting Hat. Ron sighed out a relieved breath at this before glaring in the general direction of his twin brothers...he had
been so scared, and it was just a hat! An ugly frown settled on his face and some of the kids even edged away from him.

McGonagall settled the artifact carefully on a low wooden stool ositioned at the front of the hall, and the room
immediately became silent, buzzing almost in anticipation. Dumbledore couldn't remember a time when the room was
quieter, but he supposed the reasoning was that Harry Potter hadn't been missing then. It was pretty obvious that they
were all just interested in hearing the 'P's, but decided to be polite in general. Dead silence. And then the hat began to
sing...

.oOo.

...The Hall erupted into loud applause as McGonagall yelled with a magically magnified voice, "Abbott, Hannah!"

The girl in question scampered to the stool, let the professor drop the hat on her head (and cover her eyes) before,
amazingly, the hat called out,-

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Hasan heard, rather than saw, Draco smirk beside him, as the Hufflepuff table welcomed her eagerly. The pattern
repeated itself: name, hat, house. And Hasan found himself quite interested as to how the hat did what it did, and where
the hat would place him.

He wondered absently if his parents belonged to a particular house, and if Voldemort did as well. He figured that
Voldemort was probably in Slytherin from all the blood-purity drivel, infused within the Slytherin wannabes. Hmm, that
was food for thought.
"Bulstrode, Millicent!" McGonagall called, pulling a haglike witch from the crowd of firsties. So that's the half-blood Pansy
was talking about, Hasan thought. She pulled the hat onto her own head, as her hands went to ball into fists in her lap.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The girl hopped down from the stool, practically threw the hat back on the stool, and went hastily off to the Slytherin table
on the left side of the hall. Hasan watched as a few kids made room for her, the half-blood: apparently some Slytherins
didn't care about blood status or they were just ignorant. Perhaps some were even kind. Hasan wasn't much for
categorizing people: shoving them in a box, as he called it. And so, tried to withhold judgment of the house of snakes.
He'd have an open mind when confronting the hat, yes, well easier said than done...

.oOo.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips as she took in the name before her: Castell, Hasan. How odd! She couldn't recall
a Castell since, goodness! 1965, Lucius Malfoy's year! She glanced at the list, just to make sure was reading correctly,
for in all their time reviewing the list she had never once read that name...

But maybe, they were all so obsessed with Harry Potter that they had overlooked a student? Minerva fell into a pit of
ashen guilt. They had all vowed not to treat the boy any differently when he got to Hogwarts, but it seemed as if they
already had! How could she have missed this child? Wasn't he every bit as deserving as Potter? In all her time at
Hogwarts, she had never once forgotten a name from the list! She hadn't noticed how long her inner musings had been
going on until Albus cleared his throat loudly from the staff table.

By this time, however, all the students were curious about the holdup. They hadn't gotten to the P's yet, had they?
Decidedly not, even Crabbe and Goyle knew their alphabet!

Minerva cleared her throat.

"Castell, Hasan!"

Severus' onyx eyes snapped to the crowd of children, eager to identify this puzzle piece of sorts. He guessed why Minerva
had hesitated: She probably felt guilty about overlooking a child, and with her Gryffindor pride, had not once thought that
the name wasn't there but a few weeks before... He was happy in a way though, because none of the other staff
members ever realized how much lenience they had already given the Boy-Who-Lived. It was about time someone woke
up and realized that all kids should be treated the same way! (He was such a hypocrite on this account, but chose not to
dwell on it in the glory of the moment.)

From the huddled group of first years, a lean, handsome boy with rich brown hair in a thick braid down his right shoulder
emerged. Oddly enough, he seemed to have been standing with his godson! Oh, Merlin! Could he never catch a break?
Was Lucius prying too? Severus watched as the boy strode gracefully over to the stool, accepted the hat graciously from
Minerva (whom had handed it to him, probably out of guilt), and seated himself primly.

Then, with the whole hall watching, Hasan dropped the hat onto his head, plunging his world in darkness.

"Oh, what do we have here?"

Hasan bit his lip, but otherwise relaxed with his hands holding the edges of the stool.

"You can speak?" Hasan wondered, finding it fascinating how the voice was speaking from inside his mind.

"I much prefer to sing. I'm a song writer, you know. "the hat said cheerfully, "But it's my job, first and foremost, to send you
kids where they need to be!"

Hasan wasn't sure how he felt having a hat dig inside his mind, but it wasn't like he was given a choice. The voice inside
his head was quiet for a few seconds while it thought before saying,-

"Ah! This is a remarkable discovery indeed...Mr. Potter."

Hasan wasn't stupid enough to ask 'how do you know?' but he did ask if the hat would tell anyone. "Why would I?" the hat
countered. "Technically you are, for all intents and purposes, Hasan Castell. You mind seems to separate the two, and
as long as you continue to think of yourself that way, then that is who you are and have become."

"It's because I'm dreaming." Hasan explained. "If I wake up one day back in the orphanage, then I'll just be Harry."

Hasan thought he heard the hat sigh if hats could sigh.

"Hmm. A rather interesting notion, Mr. Castell. Logical enough to make a Ravenclaw proud, but your intent behind it...now
that is Slytherin. Self-preservation, protection, deception, those are most Slytherin tactics indeed." the hat murmured.
"You even hid it from your own father."

"He's not really my father." Hasan informed the hat. "He's more of a mentor. My real parents are dead." Hasan thought for
a moment. "By the way, where were they sorted?"

"Well, your parents, Lily and James were both lions, but that shouldn't have any bearing on what you will become." the
hat said confidently. "In fact, you know better than I that it's not on the outside, but what lies within...so better be-"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"...thank you..." Hasan thought.

He slipped the hat fluidly off his head, to stare at the silent hall before him. Everyone's eyes were peering at him
curiously, but he wasn't shaken by the attention. Instead, he lithely alighted from the stool, and handed the sorting hat
back to Professor McGonagall with a nod of thanks. The stunned witch accepted the proffered hat with an inscrutable
expression on her visage. The child had been under the hat for nearly ten minutes! TEN MINUTES! It wasn't unheard of,
certainly, but...goodness! The hall protruded deafening silence, but Hasan seemed to ignore it all. He made his way
carefully over to the Slytherin table, and as he was walking, the applause seemed to grow from a single clap to a
thunderous roar.

A thin boy, a year old than Hasan, made room for him at the table before shaking his hand with, "Hello, I'm Adrian Pucey."

"I call myself Hasan." he said, though he felt ridicules seeing as Professor McGonagall had already said it. A boy next to
Adrian, about the same age, but with a large build and blank face introduced himself as Cassius Warrington, and
Millicent Bulstrode, across the table looked at him curiously. Up close, the girl wasn't that bad to look at. She was no
doubt strong, judging by her large arm muscles, but she had pretty black hair and a pleasant enough face. As the older
students clambered to shake their new housemate's hand, Cassius asked,-

"Did you and the hat have a nice long tea party? You must have been under there for an hour!"

Hasan shrugged. "I'm not sure about an hour, but the hat was definitely talkative." It wasn't that he couldn't identify the
jeering tone, but that he just chose to ignore it. Millicent seemed to respect him for this because she let a small smile
brighten her face. It was an amazing transformation really. The four Slytherins chatted quietly, Tracey Davis joining soon
enough and making it five, until Granger, Hermione was called to the front, and Hasan withdrew immediately from the
conversation.

.oOo.

Hermione now was in a situation: she wanted to be in Gryffindor originally, because she knew Harry Potter fit the mold,
but Harry Potter was not here! And so, Ravenclaw suited her best. But Hasan had just been sorted into Slytherin! She
wanted to join him, but thinking back to the uncomfortable train ride, she knew she would never feel at home with her
Slytherin peers.

She thought all this as she walked shakily up to the hat, placing it carefully on her head, and waited.

"Just place me where I belong! Wherever I belong!" Hermione chanted over and over to herself.

"Why, of course! I always do!" a cheerful old voice spoke in her mind.

It caught Hermione by surprise, even though she had suspected something like a conversation with it. Still, having a
foreign anything in your mind was not a usual experience.

"Hmm, you've got a brilliant mind, that much is clear...oh, potential, great potential, yes! And a natural born leader."

"Leader?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. She had the lowest self-esteems in the world! Which was subsequently why
she needed to impress others with her knowledge.

"Yes! You have very strong opinions, it's all in here...in your mind. But that doesn't mean you need to force your opinions
on others...Ah! I see you want to follow Hasan and Tracey, but why? You're a leader, not a follower. I see that you agree.
No, Slytherin is not where you will reach your full potential...Not even Ravenclaw...No, you can achieve so much more if
you're in-

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat decreed.

The Gryffindor table, on the far right, exploded in applause as the brown-haired witch hopped happily off to join them. But
she couldn't help but send a sheepish smile to Hasan, until, surprisingly, he smiled too. Right, Hermione, you're a
leader! A leader! Don't worry ab out what others think, Hasan ob viously approves. Her smile grew even more radiant as
she sat with the lions, near Lavender Brown and the Weasley twins.

Hasan was also happy. Hermione Granger might be intelligent, but he didn't want to babysit her twenty-four seven.
Hasan saw potential in her, but also knew she had to grow before she might be of any use to him...

The rest of the feast was also rather uneventful. Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, and Hermione were sorted into
Gryffindor (plus a few others), as Millie (as they called her), Tracey, Daphne, Pansy, Draco, Theo, Blaise, Crabbe, and
Goyle were sorted into Slytherin, making a little first year group near Hasan. It was the first time he had met many of the
girls, and Hasan could tell that Slytherin guys and girls played in very different fields. These girls were cold and
calculating for their age of eleven. Well, Tracey was alright, though he was sure that was a persona too, and Daphne
seemed nice enough (only because she knew Malfoy really well and Hasan was his friend.)

The food was delicious, but he couldn't help shaking the feeling that someone was watching him very closely.

.oOo.

After a few days, Hasan felt rather settled in good old Hogwarts! Once he got over the owl deliveries in the morning, the
rest of the magical culture including the ghosts didn't surprise him as much. The Bloody Baron didn't even move much
from his own secret lair in the dungeons. Which wasn't much comfort since the Slytherin dorms were located in the
dungeons. But on the bright side, they were simply lovely to live in, in that creepy 'death resides here' way...and he loved
the green décor. It wasn't exactly emerald green, but it was still better than those noble scarlet and gold colors. As an
added bonus, the snake was the Slytherin mascot! He thought of Tina often, and when he spoke of her to Malfoy, he was
pretty sure Malfoy believed Tina to be a dog...it amused Hasan to no end.

On the first night, Professor Snape introduced himself to the first years. He had rather oily hair that fell to about his chin,
and glinting black eyes that seemed to take in everything about him.

"...for the next seven years, this house will be your family. Many do not look kindly on Slytherins, and you will soon learn
the benefits of unification. I expect you all to uphold this name proudly..."

Amazingly, his was the only voice in the room. He had that sort of aura about him that basically stifled any opposition.
Hasan found this magical. At the end of the speech, Snape took leave of them with his cloak billowing behind him, and
the prefects led the new snakes to their dorms. It was a shock really when they came upon a small hallway, from which
jutted five separate rooms.

"Do the other houses have dorms like these?" Theo asked. The prefect blushed scarlet before snapping,

"How the hell should I know?"

Apparently they did. Hasan supposed it was because out of all of the houses, Slytherins had about as much trust as one
could throw them, and with Crabbe and Goyle, well, that wasn't exactly far. Draco choose the door at the end of the hall
facing the entrance, Crabbe and Goyle flanked him (doors facing across from one another), Blaise and Theo were on the
other side of their rooms, and Hasan was at the very end, closes to the exit.

The interior of the chamber was admittedly much larger than the outside suggested (by the proximity of the doors.) The
walls were cream-colored, with a black chair rail, and black wall trim in squares underneath. Under the chair rail, the
walls were a pale sage green. A chest of drawers lay off to the side of the bed, the bed itself being a large four-poster
with cream and green covers, and silver curtains to draw around oneself for privacy.

Hasan found his trunk at the foot of his bed, with Raven settled on top.

"Hey, girl." Hasan whispered, poking his fingers through the cage. Raven looked at him tiredly, before shutting her eyes
again. "Must be tired." Hasan murmured. "I wonder if there's anywhere to keep her..."

He turned back to his trunk, lifted Raven's cage off of it, and cast engorgio to return it to it proper size. Hasan quickly got
dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and long gray pants, then head out to the bathrooms which they had passed.*

.oOo.

Severus Snape spent the next few days completing the Muted Sight potion. On Thursday, he went down to the Hog's
Head inn and pub, and waited in his usual dark corner. It was nearly midnight, and he was thoroughly exhausted from
dealing with all the dunderheads that made up the mass of Hogwarts' student body. He waited, contemplating what he
would say to the man. Perhaps starting off with a friendly: 'Why the hell didn't you tell me?' and then following it up with a
'How the hell is this laying low?'

Thinking back to the sorting, he was rather surprised to observe Hasan's ease and indifference to the silence. He
seemed very calm and collected...a very Slytherin trait. The boy was handsome, but when he glimpsed the boy's eyes,
Merlin!

They were blank.

Oh, it wasn't that they were pitch black, or milky white, or that he was missing a pupil or had cataracts or anything, no,
they were just...blank. He couldn't identify what about them threw him off, just that, they were too perfect, or unnatural, or
simply too natural. It was all very concerning. Hasan Castell had the dullest pair of jade green eyes Snape had ever
seen. Not that green was an altogether common color, but jade should certainly be uncommon, yes?

When he finally broke out of his thoughts, he noticed it was 12:20. He found that he wasn't really surprised. Well that
settled it, Altair Castell was definitely involved. Snape trudged back to the castle, strode to his private office and almost
froze as he saw a large brown owl on his desk. It blinked at him, holding out a leg with a little note attached to it. It had
the usual anti-theft, disillusionment, anti-tamper, &c. spells on it, but Snape undid them easily with a wave of his wand.
He took the letter from the owl, whom promptly flew out the window (a tiny one leading out to beyond the Great Lake), and
sat in his desk chair to read it.

"Severus,

I can live without the potion for a few months. It's too risky, Lucius spotted me in Diagon Alley and told his son, Draco I
think, to keep watch. In my defense my hair was white...anyway, keep watch over my son, won't you?

Castell"

Severus sighed and nearly growled. This! This letter proved just how little brains the man possessed. Luck, certainly,
good ears, very, but putting all this information in a letter? Putting both of their names in a letter? Thinking a change in
hair style would serve as adequate protection? Salazar, help the man!

So then,...how had he managed to raise a son without him knowing?

.oOo.

Professor McGonagall was sad to say the least. How had she failed two boys already? Poor Harry who was dead for all
they knew- all because she didn't have enough Gryffindor courage to tell the headmaster 'No'- and Hasan Castell who
she had managed to completely overlook! Well, never again! She licked her paw absently, waving her short little tail so
that it hit the edges of her desk. It was always a great source of amusement for her when she got to play this particular
trick on the firsties! She waited patiently as the children filed in. Ravenclaws and Slytherins, she believed, watching as
they found a chair, chatted, and checked the door every few seconds. Comments like:

"McGonagall has a cat?"

"Is that Filches' cat?"

"Why is it watching us?"

Brought a smile to face, though in her cat form, her whiskers would twitch. Finally, the last pair of students, Draco Malfoy
and Hasan Castell, no less, made it into the Transfiguration's classroom.

She drew herself up, ready to leap off the desk and transform in one fluid, feline movement, when a toneless, yet
pleasant, voice rang out.

"Professor McGonagall? Is that you?"

It was Hasan Castell! Minerva leapt in the air as the children looked between her and Hasan alternatively. Within a
second, the full grown woman people learned to love as Professor McGonagall had materialized in front of them!

"Correct, Mr. Castell! Ten points to Slytherin."

Draco gaped as she was known to favor her own house quite often. Perhaps she would prove to be alright.

"How did you know?" Draco whispered.

"I didn't know. I just asked for confirmation." Hasan replied with a shrug.

"And you have received it. Well done!" Minerva beamed.

Hasan felt it slightly odd that the woman was quick to please, despite her strict reputation, but he felt that this woman
had a heart, and that presently, that heart was swamped with guilt. Over him.

After class, a rather boring one as she explained the basic laws of Transfiguration (like not being able to transfigure
something into food), Hasan stayed behind. Draco gave him an odd look, but Hasan waved him on, saying that he'd be
at lunch in a moment.

The Transfiguration's professor looked surprised at his behavior and made the usual inquiry of 'why?'

"Well, I can't help but notice that -"

Oh no! Was he going to call her out as he did about her cat? Did he detect her feelings of guilt and resolve to redeem
herself? Wait, why was she nervous? It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong! She only gave him the points he
deserved!

"-Transfiguration is a difficult subject."-(Minerva sighed out imperceptibly.)- "Would you be willing to help me?" Hasan
asked, pleading with his jaded orbs. "I just feel so odd, being muggle raised in with the Slytherins. Everyone knows
everything already." Hasan looked down at his feet as he fiddled with his fingers.

Oh the poor dear!

"Mr. Castell, I believe something can be arranged. I realize how hard it must be to just enter into the magical community,
so if you have any problems, any, even if it has to do with quills or owls, please know that I will do all in my power to help."

The statement was sealed with a tilt of her chin, and Hasan couldn't have been happier.

"Well, thank you, Professor!" he chirped sweetly.

As he left, he imagined Minerva smiling warmly within herself, knowing she had done some good.

Noble Gryffindors.

.oOo.

(The Next Day.)***

"Ah! We've got Potions with the Slytherins!" Dean Thomas whined at breakfast.

"I've heard that Snape can be a real bastard." Ron grumbled as he shoveled cereal into his mouth. "Then again, Fred
and George say a lot of things..."

"Oh, I don't know. We get to see Hasan again!" Hermione beamed like a puppy.

"But Hermione! You see him every day!" Ron said, piling more bacon onto his plate.

"Yes, but you don't. He's actually very nice, just...a bit, awkward?"

"Look, I can only take one awkward kid and that's Neville!" Ron shouted callously with a disgusted wrinkle of his nose.

"Um, hi guys." Neville cleared his throat from behind Ron, whom promptly shut his mouth.

"Oh, Neville! How...nice, we were just discussing Potio-"

"Yeah, I heard what you were discussing." Neville told her dejectedly, before turning away and out the hall.

"Odd that one-"

"RONALD!"

Potions came soon enough however, with the Slytherins leading the way, and the lions looking for all the world like they'd
been sentenced to life in Azkaban.

"Hello, Hermione." Hasan greeted her as she walked in with the unhappy red head.
"Hasan!" she cried, assaulting him with a hug.

"Salazar, it's like they never see each other." Draco muttered.

"Tell me about it," Ron said, before he realized he had just agreed with a Malfoy. He turned his back, snapping his jaw
shut audibly. Draco rolled his eyes, Weasley's...

When Hasan and Hermione were finished their tiny reunion, they all took their seats on the respected sides of the room.
Basically, it was a straight line cutting Gryffindor from Slytherin, with Hermione and Hasan joining the ranks of those
brave souls on the border's edge. Draco sat next to Hasan, that stupid smirk on his face as Pansy glared envious
daggers as Hasan. On the other side of the room, Neville had been forced to a border seat as well because he was
Neville, and no one else wanted it.

"Watch this." Draco whispered giddily to Hasan as Snape made his grand entrance into the room, cloak floating behind
him in a batlike fashion. "He's going to make that Longbottom boy wet himself."

Sure enough, after Snape's intimidating 'Welcome to Potions, you are going to fail' speech, he shot question after
impossible question at Neville Longbottom.

"Tell me, Mr. Longbottom, what would I get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up immediately, but Neville was on his own.

"I-I"

"Speak up, Mr. Longbottom!"

"I don't know,...sir." he added hastily.

"Let us try again." Snape sneered as he paced the front of the class. "Where would you look if, Merlin forbid, you need
use of a Bezoar?

"D-don't know, sir." At first, his terror had been contagious, but now, a few giggles were poorly stifled. Hermione's arm
shot ramrod straight, and she drew herself up in her chair. Snape ignored her. Hasan ignored her.

"And finally, what is the difference between the plants Monkshood and Wolfsbane? Let us hope third time's a charm."

Hasan's head immediately perked up at hearing that familiar phrase. It was quite common in the Lord of the Rings book,
but he had yet to hear its use in everyday speech- if Snape was considered a good example of an average person's
vocabulary.

This time, Hermione was on her feet before Ron tugged her down with a harsh whisper. Hermione glared at him with a
hmf, before turning her bushy hair in his face.

"I-I don't know, sir...but um, I think Hermione does." Neville said tentatively, looking at Hermione in horror (as she was
now sitting down), causing Draco to smirk with glee. Snape snapped his head so fast towards Hermione that she
actually blinked in surprise.

"I think not! For your information, Mr. Longbottom, the Powdered Root of Asphodel and Wormwood would make the
Draught of Living Death, a very powerful sleeping potion. The Bezoar is a stone, taken from the stomach of a goat and
will be a cure for most poisons. As for the third, they are the exact same plant which also goes by the name of Aconite."**

While Altair had never formally trained Hasan in potions (probably another way of keeping Hasan from finding out about
his magic seeing condition and thereby the truth- idiot logic really,) even Hasan knew these three answers.

His previous depravation of knowledge made Hasan do some serious pre-reading during his last month of summer,
and the first answer was found in the middle chapter. The second question about the bezoar wasn't necessarily a
potions question, as it was also basic survivalist information. As for the third, that was in the beginning of his A-Z potion
supplies book. (Something he bought for enrichment.)

"Well, why aren't you copying that all down?" Snape bellowed, causing an immediate search for quills, ink, and
parchment. "And thirty-three points from Gryffindor for inadequate preparation!"

Hasan glanced at Draco as he was one of the only daring ones not moving, but Draco murmured that he had known all
the answers already. Hasan did too, but he also knew it would draw too much attention to them both if they were both
sitting still. So Hasan took out his writing supplies and made a short-hand note complete with equal signs and arrows.
Draco's lips quirked up in amusement.

The rest of the lesson was rather uneventful. They went over potion's supplies and equipment, as well as the basic
properties of different cauldrons, and how simple directions like mince and cut should be taken very seriously. Hasan
found this all very interesting, as did Hermione, he could tell, but he was almost positive that Neville hadn't heard a word.
The class was dismissed soon enough.

Neville was the first one out.

.oOo.

One week later brought the Slytherins and Gryffindors back together again, in their first flying lesson of the year. The
children spilled out onto the field that was already laden with twenty beat-up brooms, ten for each row. The houses
naturally faced each other, sneering and smirking and glaring back defiantly. Hasan and Draco were parallel with
Hermione and Neville, though it was Ron who captured the Malfoy heir's attention. Ron, tactful as ever, was glaring so
heatedly at the Slytherins that his face was turning red.

Draco nudged Hasan's elbow and snickered, but Hasan was more interested in the nervous boy who had lost his toad
on the very first day. It seemed that sometime during the instructions 'don't fly,' Neville Longbottom had risen rapidly into
the air, with his hand grasping desperately at the broom. The poor boy's face was close to tears as he flailed around
helplessly to the now unhidden snickers. At then he began to fall. Madam Hooch quickly cast a cushioning charm, but
not before Neville's wrist hit the ground with an audible crack.

"LONGBOTTOM!" Madam Hooch cried. "To the infirmary with you." She walked to poor boy back herself (when no one
wanted to volunteer) with strict instructions not to disobey her this time. Once she was out of sight, however, Draco
grinned and snatched up a small glinting object in the grass.

"Hey! That's a remembrall!" a girl screamed.

"Wait, that's Neville's you can't touch it!" Ron growled. "Give it back!"

Draco cocked his head to the side.

"Really? Who's going to make me?" Draco sneered, hopping onto a broom and whizzing upwards with ease.

Hasan thought this all incredibly juvenile as far as instigations went, but Ron was on his broom in seconds.

"Ronald!" Hermione pleaded from the ground, but he ignored her. Soon the two boys were face to face in the air, Ron
having had practice before with his brothers. What an idiot! Hermione thought.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" Ron demanded, holding a hand out and causing his broom to quake under him.

"Hm, I suppose I will." Draco smirked, tossing it behind him. It took Weasley a few seconds to react, but he chased the
falling object with passion!

"Whoa!" Lavender Brown oohed.

The ball was nearing the ground, Ron was fast behind it, Draco had already landed safely as if he had never gotten up in
the first place, the grass, the ground, feet, inches.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

CRACK!

Ron's shoulder connected with the hard packed dirt with a sickening crack, the remembrall landing softly with a little
thud. What the hell? It had a protection charm on it? Ron's eyes shut in agony as he clutched his shoulder with his good
arm.

"Ronald Weasley! What were you thinking? You could've been killed!" Madam Hooch screamed as she ran onto the field.

"Malfoy! He-" Lavender protested.

"I don't want to hear it! I told you all specifically not to fly!"

"But Malfoy!"
"That is enough, Miss Brown! Ten points from Gryffindor for not being able to follow simple instructions!"

As Madam Hooch led the injured Weasley away, Hermione wiped away a tear. She just felt so guilty...when she was in
ordinary school, she would always stand up for people, but then...she hadn't any friends in ordinary school either. She
was so conflicted: Should she have spoken up? But the rational side of her brain told her that Lavender had spoken out
and it did no good. And besides, Ron shouldn't really have...

She felt a hand at her back, and she turned to find Hasan smiling slightly at her. His jade green eyes soothed the conflict
just a bit as he gave her a hug.

"Don't feel too bad Hermione." he said. "Now he knows not to be rash. It is better he learns now than later."

Hermione nodded, pulling away from the brown haired boy. She didn't know why, but the comment felt so divine,
heartless yes, but it made sense. It would help Ron in the long run, right? Still, it just sounded so wrong coming from a
child's mouth, as if he knew what was right and wrong just like an adult. She was affronted and in awe all at once. Just
then, Draco popped up beside Hasan, a large grin cracked over his pale face.

"Did you see that?" he nearly bounced in joy, "A broken shoulder and points from Gryffindor!"

Pansy was giggling hysterically with her group of Slytherin girls, even Tracey, who was probably only there for peer
pressure than anything else was following along, stifling laughs behind her hand. Draco himself was doubled over,
laughing as Hasan looked on stoically.

"I'm afraid my vision was hindered by an ignoramus." Hasan said wryly, "I was gagging at the infantile tête-à-tête."

Hermione was the only one who seemed to understand the entire line, and was smiling pitifully through her tears.

"What?" Draco asked dumbfounded. Even though the language was extremely unusual (he wouldn't admit to advanced)
the tone was unmistakable. (Which was saying something because Hasan was usually toneless, unless he put forth
effort.)

"I think he called you an idiot." Theo piped up helpfully, respect reverberating in his voice.

"And childish!" Seamus was laughing. "Even I know what an infant is!"

Draco glared at them to back off, but was startled at the sudden hand on his shoulder.

"Let me show you how's it's done." Hasan smiled gently with a tilt of his head. Draco froze.

"Some people prefer to target pressure points." Hasan whispered, pressing softly behind his collar bone. Draco
stiffened under him, trying his hardest not to let it show.

Everyone was watching now, wondering what on earth was going to happen between the two Slytherins.

"Others use brute force." Hasan said lightly, adding a smidgeon more pressure. Altair had made sure his son was well
advanced in combat of any sort, and Hasan was thankful for it now.

Draco didn't react at first; he was too regal, too dignified to squeal or retreat, but then he clenched his jaws, and sought
out Hasan's eyes for indications of play. He was horrified at what he saw. Cold jade eyes stared evenly back at him,
those of murderer, or his father after missions when he was just a child. Draco's face paled further, turning from milky to
chalk to ghostly white... "But speed always adds a factor."

Hasan could hear footsteps echoing off the castle stones and knew he had to play this just right.

"Three...two..." His lips moved without motion and his words were carried without sound.

Hermione let out a gasp, but couldn't seem to look away, hands hiding all but her eyes.

"One."

Draco jerked backwards as Hasan leapt lithely away.

"What the HELL!" Draco screeched, rubbing at his delicately bruised shoulder.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch cried, affronted, entering purposely back onto the field. "Such language! Ten points from
Slytherin and a detention to you!"
Draco's mouth hung open in outrage, before snapping shut as he gazed warily at Hasan.

The boy's face was back to blank. Jade eyes dead as ever. No remorse, no joy, not anything.

Was his father's approval really worth this much? Could he even get close to such a monster? To such a machine? To
such a doll? All to create an even more superficial friendship than what was already established?

No, that would simply be a waste of time. It was not for his father that he was doing this, but for himself. And so help him
if he wasn't going to make Hasan Castell his friend.

A great big thank you for the last 40 reviews! You guys rock!

matechan, Dreamless-Sleep777, jalapeno bagels, Mel72000, Elinva, Guest, Mrs. Cipriano, Nagilover4ever, mas1581,
geetac, Hericus C, arisflame, PurpleBallet, honest critic(guest), Virgo(guest), Linda(guest), TyrialFrost, Chi Vayne,
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southern-reader, medward, oneeyereader, The Dark One Rising, Shikaku Zetsumei, daithi4377, and Post U Later

A/N-

(*Slytherins seem to enjoy their privacy, and this is a magic school after all, so I think there'll b e a b athroom b efore each
set of dormitories (which means there'll b e 14). **This is fanfiction so anything you recognize is NOT MINE. All rights go
to the illustrious JKR! ***Also, I know the order of the classes and I know I royally messed with canon for this chapter, b ut
I don't think it really matters.)

Whew! 15 pages! I'm sorry it's not as creative as I'd hoped, but some things just need to be done before the plot gets
rolling!

What did you think of Draco? PLEASE REVIEW!

Next Chapter: Dumbledore's Predicament

(be excited, this one's good!)

*Chapter 6*: Dumbledore's Predicament
A/N- It's finally here! I hope you enjoy because I absolutely love this chapter! Also, I hope you have enough time to review
at the end because it's my Birthday! On that note, thanks again for the lovely comments, and there's a VOTE at the end.
I'd really appreciate it if you'd participate as it'll help me in creating more for you all!

(By the by, would anyone be interested in beta-ing for this story? Let me know in a review!)

Return of Emerald

Chapter 6: Dumbledore's Predicament

"Hermione, I'm telling you! That dog was guarding a door!" Ron insisted. He had just arrived at the Gryffindor table, and
was already begging for Hermione's curiosity to outweigh her morals.

"That's no excuse for a detention, Ronald! Professor Dumbledore said not to go anywhere near the third floor corridor, let
alone go into the locked room! You're lucky Filch only caught you as you were heading out!" Hermione whispered harshly
with a cold glare. She knew that Ron had been fooling around the forbidden corridor the other day, probably so he could
appear cool in front of all his friends (cough, Neville, cough). So it was quite natural when he landed himself a
detention...with Draco (Ron's nemesis), out into the forbidden forest. Well, see if she was going to be a sympathetic pair
of ears! The prat deserved it.

"Oh come on, Hermione," Ron whined, "what could a three-headed dog have been guarding?"

"I don't know! Stop thinking about it!" Hermione snapped angrily, slamming down her fork.

"Hey guys." Neville shuffled in, seating himself across from Ron. "What are you talking about?"

Neville was still extremely awkward, but had managed to warm up to the two bickering Gryffindors. Sometimes he
fancied he was the only bridge between the two, or that he was just a buffer to stop them from eating each other's heads
off.

"Ron got a detention with Draco." Hermione hissed.

"Oh. That seems scary." Neville said. "What for?"

"Snooping around where he didn't belong-" "Finding a dog guarding a trapdoor-" The two said at the same time.

"That's cool..." said Neville carefully, not having heard anything, "So what's it guarding?"

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh, "Honestly, Neville! He wasn't supposed to be there in the first place!"

Neville shuffled his feet beneath the table before sipping his pumpkin juice.

"Aw, don't be too hard on him, Hermione." Ron whined. Hermione silenced him with a glare, and made to get up. It was
only the last week of September, honestly! How had he managed to get a detention this early on? Boys and their
recklessness...

She wasn't even sure how Neville and he had become friends unless they had bonded when they were both stuck in the
Hospital Wing, bored as Hell. So really, they were only together because of their foolishness during their first broom
lessen! How sad. With a frustrated huff, she strode to the library, ready to take her mind off Ron with a bit of studying.

.oOo.

(Near Midnight.)

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a bit of a problem on his hands. First and foremost: Harry Potter.
It wasn't that he was only a manipulative old codger, but he was a sad old man that felt he had lost his prized
possession. But that didn't necessarily mean Albus did not care for the boy. No, in fact, ever since...well, ever since
Ariana, Albus had been desperate for ways to atone. He had never had children, yet he felt as if he had lost one.

But he could hardly go face the Wizarding World and say "I've lost your savior. Forgive me, I believed love was stronger
than this." No. Severus' plan was in use at the current time: pretend the boy was off training in the mountains...but search
parties had already gone and failed, and people were getting worried. The thing about people was that they needed to
know everything was going to be alright.

You see, Albus did have another solution. He alone knew the full prophecy and it could have referred to two boys. Harry
Potter and Neville Longbottom. Scrying didn't help. The tracking charm was absolutely dead...so what else could he do?
Albus had been paying very close attention indeed to Mr. Longbottom. So far, the boy had managed to receive a broken
wrist from failing to heed basic instructions. He was abysmal in potions. Was compared to a squib in Transfiguration.

But the boy had a knack for Herbology! Thank Merlin! There were such things are poisonous plants! Neville Longbottom
could save the world after all! (But if Albus was honest with himself, he doubted that Tom Riddle would disappear after
taking a whiff of some fatal flower.) Yes, Dumbledore would have to raise him, shape him up, and train the boy to be his-
he meant- the world's savior. It also helped that the Weasley boy had shown a liking for him, for the Weasley's were
some of his top supporters! The plan seemed perfect: Weasley's, Prophecy, desperate for attention...and Gryffindor.

Could he imagine a Slytherin being the Boy-Who-Lived?

Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth and chuckled. In a few hours he would call the others up and tell them of his
ingenious plan...

"Albus, you can't possibly do a bait and switch!" Poppy cried. "You'll get the poor boy's hopes up!"

"Poppy, I see no other alternative!"

"Perhaps actually looking for the Potter boy would be below us?" Snape leered icily.

"I agree with Severus!" Minerva called, much to Snape's irritation. "He's still out there! I'm not about to fail that boy a
second time!"

Currently, the same crew of Severus, Minerva, Poppy, and Pomona were huddled in the headmaster's office, a mere
quarter of an hour before their first classes of the year. Dumbledore didn't beat around the bush as much as he simply
set it on fire.

"Minerva, I am truly sorry I didn't listen to you, before, but right now, the Wizarding World needs a face of the Light!" he
insisted.

"You-Know-Who is dead!" Poppy yelled.

"If only." Snape muttered to himself.

"Well, the boy does show a great affinity for Herbology." Pomona ventured.

"Are we talking about the same Longbottom?" Snape thundered. "I don't believe he has an affinity for anything but getting
himself and others injured!"

"I agree, the boy means well, but he can't keep up with the rest of the class. I've had to tutor him three times already and
he's still behind." Minerva sighed. "I wish the solution were as easy as this, but the boy's comparable to a squib. His
grandmother practically begged me to show her the Hogwarts book to prove he had some magic in him! Imagine, if we
let the world believe one thing, Augusta Longbottom will be higher than the moon. It's simply not right, Albus. It's a farce
and you're playing with his life!"

"It's also a ploy for time." Severus said. "Which would actually matter if we looked for the damn boy."

"Alright, Severus, you've made your point. We'll resume searching sometime this summer." Albus said wearily.

"You don't actually the think the boy can be found, do you?" Poppy asked. "The chances of a boy, abandoned at that age
still being alive are extremely slim!"

"He's managed to survive the killing curse." Albus pointed out.

"Yes, because of love and blood protection!" Snape sneered, "Which, Minerva has already pointed out, is not functioning!
We can't wait until the summer, Albus!"

"Well, what would you have me do? We need Mr. Longbottom to believe he is the chosen one so that everyone else does
too. We can't have our people searching on the side because that would upset the whole-"

"Illusion!" Minerva screeched. "Merlin, Albus! Just think about the boy for once! Don't let him believe that he's the Boy-
Who-Lived. Tell him he needs to play a part! Don't make him believe!"

"I can hardly control what he believes." Dumbledore said defiantly. "But I'll try my best to make sure it doesn't go to his
head too fast."

"Albus!"

"Fine! I'll tell him exactly what his part is! Satisfied?"

Minerva nodded stiffly.

.oOo.

Neville Longbottom was never much of anything. He was shy, awkward, barely magical, and injured himself fairly often.
He was behind in most if not all of his classes, which was saying something as it was only October, and he had
managed, somehow, to make enemies of at least ten people in his year alone.

Even his toad ran away from him.

So it was with great trepidation that Neville walked to the headmaster's office now.

"Cockroach clusters." he said shakily and the gargoyle slid away from the staircase. It took nearly as much strength to
climb the fifty stairs as it did to raise his arm and knock.

"Enter!"

The door opened silently, revealing a trembling Neville in its wake. Albus was situated in a high-backed chair behind his
rather large desk, and he indicated for him to sit with a gracious wave of his hand.

"H-hello Pr-fessor Dumbledore."

"Good morning, Neville."

Neville? When had the headmaster, or any teacher for that matter, start calling him 'Neville'?

"Er..."

"Come, sit, sit down! Lemon drop?" Albus asked, proffering a little blue bowl.

"Um, no thanks."

Neville fidgeted in his chair, worried to the point of sickness. Why was he here? Had he done something wrong? Had
one of the kids complained about him? Did someone frame him?

"All well." Albus gave himself a candy and folded his hands on the desk. "Neville, I'm truly sorry I haven't gotten to speak
with you before." Albus said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "But we've been so busy looking for the Boy-Who-Lived..." he
paused here and gazed at Neville pointedly.

"Oh, er, yeah, I've read the Daily Prophet and all." Neville mumbled, completely confused. Where was the headmaster
going with this? Was it small talk? Did the headmaster meet with all of his students? Even so, Neville felt dejected:
People were out searching for the Boy-Who-Lived, millions caring for this one boy, while he, Neville, was largely ignored,
and despised for being clumsy, inadequate, forgetful, accident prone..."Er, sir, why am I here?" he ventured when all
Albus did was smile fondly through his half-moon spectacles. He wasn't that close with the headmaster, let alone with
anyone, and it was getting all a bit too awkward for him.

"I'm glad you asked Neville, my boy. The Daily Prophet is a lie."

"What-?"

"The Boy-Who-Lived is gone for good. He's not out training in the mountains or wherever they say he's training now. He's
been missing since July, when we first sent his Hogwarts letter."

"But, um, why are you telling me this...sir?"

"Call me 'Albus'," Albus said pleasantly. Gaining trust started with names, and he was going to need a lot of trust to pull
this off. Neville looked at him oddly, torn between disbelief and confusion. He wanted recognition so badly, but this was
all too suspicious.

"Er-"

"Yes, as I was saying, Harry Potter is gone. There is little hope of ever finding him and that's assuming he isn't already
dead."- Neville gulped-"But do you know why he was targeted as a baby? Why he was dubbed the World's savior?"

Neville shook his head.

"Because of a prophecy."

"A prophecy?" Neville echoed.

"Yes. It foretold of a boy born as the seventh month dies..." He waited as he watched the gears turn in the boy's face.
"You, my boy, were the second child the prophecy referred to."

"B-but I can't save a thing! Even my toad ran away from me! People tease me! I-I don't have much magic!"

"No, Neville, my boy." Albus face darkened as grief flooded through his voice. "That is where you come in. You were not
'marked as his equal' as the prophecy goes, but you will be able to represent the Light. Step up and fill in, giving hope as
the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"B-but I'm not." Neville stammered.

"No...no, you're not. But the world needs a savior, Neville. They need a face."

So he just wants to use me. He doesn't care. He's just using you. They're all just using you. It's all a b ig practical joke,
comparing you to a deity and hailed as a dead man when you're just really plain old Neville Longb ottom...

"So I'm just a replacement?" Neville whispered hoarsely.

Albus frowned, the boy wasn't supposed to act like this! He was supposed to be happy! Proud even at the chance to be
the Boy-Who-Lived.

"No, Neville, my boy. You will be named the Boy-Who-Lived. The prophecy has no bearings anymore with Harry Potter
gone. People are going to look to you for advice! Why your grandmother was over the moon when we told her!"

Neville blanched.

"You told my grandmother!"

"Yes, and she was honored to be able to say her own grandson is the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"But I'm not!" Neville protested weakly.

"We'll give you some time to adjust yourself to it, but just think: wouldn't your parents be so proud if their son was the one
to destroy Voldemort once and for all?"

"I wouldn't know, would I?" Neville said blankly, and asked to be excused.

.oOo.

Halloween was finally upon them, and the Great Hall had been adorned with orange and black streamers, and many
animated bats that flew past on unsuspecting students.

Hasan couldn't believe it- it seemed like just yesterday he was heading off to Hogwarts and now, they were two months
into the semester! Hasan, himself, was doing fairly well in all his classes. Altair's vigorous preparation had a hand in it,
as did Professor McGonagall's offer to teach him privately after class. He wasn't entirely sure why the professor had
warmed up to him, but he knew he liked her, and so took her up on it. Most of the spells Hasan already knew, but then
the Transfiguration's teacher mentioned something in passing that caught Hasan's interest: Animagi.

When he asked about it, she had told him it was near impossible to become an Animagis at his age- that it required
great skill, power, and a whole lot of paperwork. But Hasan still remembered that first class, when she had changed
from a tabby cat to witch in a fluid movement, eliciting oohs and ahhs from the crowd. Now that he knew the name of it,
however, he simply mentioned it to Hermione whom had researched it herself out of pure curiosity. She intended to give
him a briefing on it tomorrow.
Speaking of Gryffindors, Neville Longbottom's reputation preceded him. Brainless, forgetful, clumsy, awkward,
squib...toad lover. He seemed nervous even around his fellow Gryffindors, though he had gotten considerably closer to
Ron after their joint recovery in the Hospital Wing. Still, he was clearly marked as an oddball and kids teased him
whenever they could. Draco didn't for fear of offending Hasan (again), but Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and even
some members of his own house, (embarrassed at his ability to nearly empty the Gryffindor hourglass every time he
stepped into the Potion's Classroom), were more than enough, sending him notes or whispering his name down the
table or in the classroom, just to annoy him. It was incredible really, how most of the teachers seemed oblivious to this.
Even McGonagall with her kindness towards Hasan, a Slytherin, didn't have an inkling of how bad it was. (For clearly they
knew something was going on.)

In fact, Hasan was nearly sure he had seen Neville running past, tears flying off his face, to the girl's bathroom...

Hasan only remembered it because he had had a conversation with himself before. It went something like:

Why the girl's bathroom?

Because it's ab andoned.

Why is it abandoned?

...Moaning Myrtle.

All the girls quickly learned that if they needed to go, they'd better find the stairs quick! So Hasan just shrugged and
moved on with his life, never knowing that the next few seconds would make this fact very important indeed.

.oOo.

The doors sprung open as a deranged Quirrell fell through it. His amethyst turban was on slightly messier than usual,
and on his face was a palpable sheen of sweat. At the staff table, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had already
jumped to their feet.

"TROLL! TROLL IN THE HALL! TROLL ON THE LOOSE!"

"Troll?"

"What?"

"Fuck!"

The students began to chat loudly as the three teachers, plus Poppy, bustled over to the DADA professor. They helped
him up before Poppy led him away.

"A troll!" Draco exclaimed. "Those things are massive! How could one of them get in here?"

"It was let in." Hasan said simply, ignoring the gasps around him. Trolls were notorious for being violent and stupid- an
altogether troublesome combination. Whoever had willingly let a troll loose in the school was most definitely trying to
cause some real destruction...or distraction.

"Maybe it was a prank?" Millie asked hopefully, but her thick brows worried dreadfully, belying her fear.

"As long as we're all here in the Hall," Tracey consoled her, "we'll be safe. See, Professor Snape is taking care of it."
Indeed, the three teachers had just left the Hall in search of the beast. Yet Hasan had a decidedly bad feeling about this.
What if someone who didn't know about the troll was still outside the hall? Wait, Neville! Hasan immediately sought out
the awkward Gryffindor, but where he should have been sitting, a panicking Hermione was in his place. Suddenly, her
brown eyes snapped to his, and Hasan gave a terse nod. He watched as the lioness murmured some excuse to Ron,
before walking discreetly over to him. She visited so often that no one thought twice about it.

"Neville!" Hermione whispered desperately as soon as she was next to Hasan. "He was crying earlier! Oh! He's still out
there!"

Most of the Slytherins ignored her, since she was, oddly enough, a regular at the table, but Draco Malfoy was not among
them.

"You think the troll-?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded vigorously. "Oh this is bad, even if it is Longbottom."

Hasan nodded. "I know where he is. We need to be quick though."

"You're going?" Draco repeated dubiously. "This is a TROLL."

"Yes, so are you coming or not?" Hasan asked curiously as he extracted himself from the bench. It seemed he didn't
even process Draco's reluctance, but really, Hasan just chose to ignore it. Hermione looked at Draco with wide, innocent
eyes.

"Yes, alright." Draco agreed stiffly, and followed the two out of the room. Damn Granger and her pretty eyes.

"Wait! We're headed towards Moaning Myrtle's loo!" Hermione exclaimed as they raced down the hall to the distant
sounds of thudding.

"Yes, and abandoned too. I must say Neville does know how to use to his resources." Draco drawled, hoping his
inadvertent compliment would make Hasan feel more comfortable. But all he said was.-

"About time you figured that out." with that damning indifference! Uh! It infuriated Draco to no end- but wait...did he want
Hasan's praise? Well wasn't that just the silliest thing you've ever heard! A Malfoy needing approval, from a half-blood no
less! Ha!

But his laugh sounded hollow in his own mind.

As they reached the bathroom, the strong stench of Troll filled their noses.

"That's vile!" Hermione cried, whipping out her wand. She performed a quick bubblehead charm on the three of them
(something she read about in her Animagi exploration as an alternative to breathing underwater,) much to Hasan and
Draco's appreciation.

"Merlin, Hermione, what would we do without you?" Hasan joked.

Intrigued by the new voice, the Troll clambered around to face them, giving the trio a perfect view of its being. It was huge,
with yellow nails, crooked teeth, two beady eyes, and a menacing looking club.

"Delightful." Draco sneered.

"Yeah, a real beauty." Hasan muttered, hand clenching around his wand.

"H-hermione? I-is that you?" Neville's trembling voice came from behind a locked stall that's door was badly dented.

"Yes, Hermione's here with Draco and I," Hasan told him. "Don't worry, this'll be over in a moment." The Troll raised its
club in challenge, the three began the fight with relish.

"Stupefy!" Hermione yelled.

"Rictumsempra!" Hasan cried. The stunner hit the Troll squarely in the face, but it recovered a second later only to be hit
with Hasan's tickling curse. The poor oaf twitched as its nerves were attacked cruelly, banging into more stalls,
smashing a mirror, and putting holes in the ground.

"Locomotor Mortis!" Draco screamed, and the trolls legs instantly snapped shut as the tickling curse wore off.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he quickly amended when the troll began to beat the ground with his fists, sending panels of tile
everywhere.

Hermione looked between the two, impressed but also worried. They had basically destroyed the bathroom (that no one
used anyway)!

Hasan was also surprised at Malfoy's quick thinking, but not of the spell since he knew that the boy had a private tutor.
The tickling curse probably did more harm than good, in hindsight, but Hasan was glad that someone was there to
watch his back when he made mistakes. He grinned over at Draco, who had regained his smug composure, just when
the troll lifted its heavy self from the floor. It didn't appear extremely damaged, just tired and absolutely furious. It released
a deafening roar, sending Neville into a fit of whimpers, and unfortunately, attracting the troll's attention. Stupid yes, but
strong enough to pull the stall door off its hinges to reveal a badly shaking Neville Longbottom. Tear tracks wear clear on
his red face, his eyes darting to meet Hasan's, and then something changed. He stood up firmly, grabbed his wand, and
opened his mouth as the troll's club descended.

"PROTEGO!" four voices shouted in unison as the massive beast was blasted off its disgusting feet, and into the far wall
with a sickening crack. There was a slowly trickling wound from its head, the club fell between its numb fingers.
The kids stared at each other, then at the troll, and then at the desecrated bathroom in horror. Even Myrtle poked her head
out of the toilet, just to release a low moan and dive back in. Neville gingerly exited the stall, wiping the tears from his
face as he did so, and offered a tentative smile to his saviors.

And then they heard a clap from the doorway.

.oOo.

"That was quite a feat." Dumbledore applauded with a twinkle in his light blue eyes. "Not many first years could have
taken on a mountain troll and won!"

Yet his colleagues didn't seem to share this view. Severus looked downright furious as did Minerva as they glared
daggers at the destructed bathroom.

"Oh my goodness!" Minerva breathed. Her eyes travelled across the room, from the troll, to the destruction, and then to
the children in awe. "What are you four not doing at the Halloween feast?"

Hasan felt Hermione stiffen beside him and knew that Neville was most likely making himself as inconspicuous as
possible. Draco however wasn't cowed and stood defiantly with Hasan, arms crossed in front of his chest, as if to say,
'Well what the bloody hell was the troll doing in Hogwarts?'

"Hello Professor McGonagall." Hasan said politely, stowing his wand nonchalantly in his robe pocket. "Isn't the smell
awful?"

"Simply dreadful." Draco muttered.

"Well?" Minerva demanded, casting an air freshening charm, much to everyone's relief.

"I'd like to know as well, why two of my snakes ended up in the girl's bathroom." Snape hissed.

Hasan thought rapidly. Was it wrong of them to go after Neville? Technically, there was no wrong. Could it be that the
teachers were simply protective of their charges? He studied their faces: Minerva's was chalky white, Severus' was angry,
and Albus Dumbledore...he had that glint in his eye that Hasan didn't quite like. What did Dumbledore know that Hasan
didn't?

"Well you see, sir." Draco said, "We knew there was a troll on the loose and Hasan noticed that Longbottom wasn't in his
seat."

"And you deduced that Neville was in need of a little aid? Bravo!" Dumbledore cried, clapping his hands again. He was a
little disappointed not to see Ron Weasley among them, for he desperately wished for Neville to associate with the
family, but he supposed that the muggleborn, Granger- Hermione (he thought her name was)- would have to do. He
wondered how the miniature Lucius was involved, but figured that the other Slytherin came because of Hermione. Merlin
knew how often the bushy-haired witch was seen talking to the boy!

"Albus, this is hardly time to be congratulating-" Snape started.

"Well why not? The Boy-Who-Lived has finally shown his true colors and has returned to save the school from a grave
danger!"

Hasan bit his lip, the Boy-Who-Lived? Alb us couldn't possib ly- but then it made sense, the twinkle in his eyes, the glee...
he heard Neville stifle a gasp as the headmaster's gaze rested on him, all the way in the back corner.

"No need to be modest, Neville!" Albus cried. "It's okay to admit you went looking for a troll and had friends to support
you."

Oh, dear. The headmaster really was desperate wasn't he? Hasan thought.

Hasan turned to watch Neville fully now, and it was clear that Neville wanted nothing more than to fall through the floor
and quickly disintegrate. His eyes darted from Hermione, to Draco, to Hasan's, before quickly landing on the floor by his
feet. Neville truly wished he could call these people his friends, but there was an unmistakable influence on his
thoughts. The headmaster was guiding towards this way of thinking, and he knew he couldn't let it get ahold of him.
These people, these wonderful people, they were not friends! They were just good people who went to help a pathetic
boy...
"Albus!" Minerva snapped, glaring candidly at the headmaster. This succeeded in capturing Hasan's interest.

"It is alright, Minerva." Albus said, "These children, these friends of Neville's deserve to know." The first part seemed to
appease the Transfigurations' teacher, and surprisingly the Potions Master. The second part, made Minerva want to slap
his face off. "Yes, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Castell, this boy, this wonderful friend, is the Boy-Who-Lived."

Hermione's eyes became saucers as Draco gaped openly in a decidedly unMalfoylike fashion.

"Neville?" Hermione asked hopefully, "Really? You're Harry Potter?"

Albus cleared his throat. "Erm, no, but he is the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter is actually just a regular homeschooled
wizard. The press made a mistake."

Severus coughed loudly at this and Hermione looked as if she wanted to question the headmaster, but then thought
better of it. Dumbledore was such a powerful wizard, he must know, right? He must be able to sense the sheer power
radiating off of Neville Longbottom? Hermione fought the urge not to frown and demand to know what the hell was the
truth. No offense to Neville or anything but,... Neville was currently backing up into the corner, arms wrapped protectively
around himself. His eyes darted to Hasan for he seemed to be the only one not reacting, in a plea of 'help me please!'

"Then how come they wrote all those books on him?" Draco demanded, watching with suspicion as Severus' lips
quirked up.

"Ah, yes. That was for Mr. Longbottom's protection." Albus lied easily. "Now I think for this miraculous accomplishment,
20 points each for Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Castell, and Miss Granger, and 30 points for Mr. Longbottom for a great service to our
school."

"Hey that's-!" Draco protested. The other two teachers looked about ready to shout the same thing too, but Albus silenced
them with a shake of his head.

"Neville's heroics must be recognized! He was the first one here, was he not?"

Damn him.

"Of course he was, sir." Hasan piped up to the incredulity of the rest of the room. His dull green eyes hit the headmaster
head on, and he fancied he could see the man pause for just one second. "He was in here because-"

"I knew I could defeat the troll!" Neville shouted harshly. He hated himself for saying it, for playing into Dumbledore's
machinations, but he couldn't bear for the teachers, least of all Snape, to know the real reason he was in there.

"Excellent! Excellent!" Albus said with a slight chuckle. "Now how about you go back to the feast? I hear the apple pie is
simply delicious..."

The four children scampered from the room, though Draco's was more of a haughty strut, leaving the teachers to work
out their own pressing matters.

"3o points for Longbottom! Really?" Snape sneered. "If you noticed, he was the one cowering in the corner!"

"Yes, I agree that 30 is a bit excessive. It was teamwork, Albus. Do you think special treatment is really the best way to
handle the boy? He's much more likely to avoid you if you continue down this path."

"But don't you see? We introduce him little by little to the life he'll lead. Today's a troll, the next it's Voldemort!"

Snape gasped, "Albus, you didn't-!"

"No, no," Albus shook his head sadly. But I wish I did. Perhaps in the Great Hall where everyone could have watched...

.oOo.

"Hasan?" Draco asked when he realized the long, brown-haired boy was no longer with him.

"Just be a minute." Hasan called, indicating for Draco and Hermione to go on. Draco looked like he was about to protest,
but then Hermione nudged him in the arm and he nodded tersely.

Hasan watched as Hermione tugged him away (though he quickly snatched his sleeve back) before turning back and
catching Neville as he was walking towards Gryffindor Tower alone.
"Hey, Neville! Wait." Hasan shouted, striding over to the boy with long steps.

"Oh, not you too." Neville mumbled.

"What?"

"'Neville,' the headmaster just started calling me by my first name today. It's so uncomfortable. I wish he'd stop." Neville
said in a whisper. "It's like he wants others to believe we're friends...wants me to believe we're friends. You probably don't
understand..." Neville sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"He probably does." Hasan admitted to Neville's shock. "He wants something from you and needs your trust to make it
happen. As for your name, would you rather I call you Longbottom?"

"Er, no." Neville said. "Sorry about that. No you can keep using Neville."

"Thank you." Hasan said quietly. The two sat down right there on the floor, side by side with their kneecaps touching. "I
understand the power of names, too. Names are our identity. To some extent they make us who we are."

"Then it's just lucky I've got stuck with Longbottom, eh?" Neville laughed bitterly.

"You can't choose your last name." Hasan admonished lightly. "That belongs to your parents."

The word 'parents' seemed to strike a nerve, for Neville curled his arms around even tighter.

"Oh."

"Hey, Neville?" Hasan asked softly. "If you could choose any name in the world, what would it be?"

"I-er. I'm not sure. It's not like I can legally change my name without a guardian's consent, and Gran is sure as Merlin not
giving hers."

"I was just curious." Hasan sighed. So far he had learned four things about Neville Longbottom and his related
predicament. 1) Albus was playing a dangerous game. No one wants to be used, or hoodwinked, and this was exactly
what he was doing. 2) Neville didn't like it one bit. Not the title or the headmaster. 3) Neville was tight-lipped about his
parents, both of them. 4) He lived with a rather stubborn, strict, or opinionated grandmother. (Hasan wasn't sure which it
was, but Neville's tone seemed to imply she was a strong woman.)

"That's alright. Curiosity is fine." Neville said. "Do you think You-Know-Who is really gone?" Neville asked suddenly.

Hasan knew what Altair thought, but he had yet to make his own opinion.

"Why?" Hasan countered, avoiding the question.

"Because I'm in deep trouble if he's not. Gran seems to think he's still here though, been trying to train me since I was
little...but you know me. I can hardly turn a matchstick into a needle." Neville laughed bitterly at himself before turning
watery eyes to Hasan. "Bet you don't think I can defeat him either."

Hasan shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I haven't met the guy. But I believe, the Boy-Who-Lived or not, that you have all the
power you'll need. Maybe not in combat, maybe in Herbology. Who knows."

"Wait...you know?" Neville asked, eyes seeming to take up his entire face. Hasan knew he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived?

"I don't know anything." Hasan said with a slight smile. "But you may have to brush up on your acting skills to get
Dumbledore from leading you along."

"I'll keep that in mind." Neville grinned as Hasan got up and offered him a hand. "And...thanks, you know. For listening."

"No need to thank me." Hasan said with a mock bow.

But only b ecause I can't shut my ears off.

Thanks to:

Mel72000, Pedobee, Nagilover4ever, delenda est c, Crazykiller2606, Kenjo, Gravity's Child, geetac, Yinko, medward,
The Dark One Rising, daithi4377, Post U Later, and Katja(guest)!
A/N- (I loved this chapter! As you can see, I've added some manipulative Dumb ledore, b ut I'm trying to keep him
"realistic" in the later portions of the story. This b eing said, Dumb ledore should b e shot for what he's putting Neville
through! Also, in case it wasn't clear, Ron and Neville b onded in the Hospital wing from when they injured themselves in
last chapter. As to Draco, he made a quick enough recovery. I don't plan on anyone b ecoming so Moody that you dread
reading ab out them. Therefore, last chapter will only serve as an explanation to his more independent way of thinking.)

However, I do have a question for you all to help with the current chapter I've temporarily stopped writing. (Err, I meant in
year 2, sorry for the confusion!)

Can you please vote? (I swear I read these and will go with the majority.)

Who goes with Hasan into the Chamber of Secrets?

a) Solo!

b) Luna

c) Draco

d) Neville

e) Other, if you could specify? _

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

Next Chapter: A Chat with Severus Snape

*Chapter 7*: A Chat with Severus Snape
Author's Note: A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this story! I'm astounded, really, at all the feedback and love!
This week was really difficult for me and I'm just so happy it's over...and Happy Halloween!

Here are the results to last chapter's vote! Thanks to all of you who participated!

Luna- 11

Draco- 9

Neville- 6

Solo- 4

Ron- 1

I can only say that more than one person will be making an appearance o.O So without further ado...ENJOY!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 7: A Chat with Severus Snape

"Are you sure that's what you saw?"

"Yes!" Draco and Ron cried in exasperation, then looked oddly at one another as if disbelieving they could ever agree.
And by oddly, Draco was horrified, and Ron looked about to vomit.

"I'm just making sure!" Hermione defended herself. "Because I saw something of interest today too."

Hasan, Draco, Neville, Hermione, and Ron were seated around a table in the History section of the library. It was brilliant,
for there were thousands of books, meaning many shelves, and no one liked History (because of Professor Binns)
which meant many empty rows of shelves. Draco tolerated Hermione enough because she was so attached to Hasan,
but Ron and Neville he could do without. Unfortunately, Hermione had made a little Gryffindor trio and that meant the Boy-
Who-Lived and the Weasel had to come too.

What he did to get on Hasan's good side.

"I don't think you can top that, Hermione." Neville piped up. "That's pretty dark."

"Well, I'll just tell you then. Today, I saw Professor Quirrell limping away from the third floor corridor."

"Really?" Hasan asked. Quirrell seemed too weak to put himself into any danger. Either he was equally as stupid, or the
alternative, hiding his potential.

"Must have been bitten by that dog Ron found." Neville muttered.

"What dog?!" Draco demanded, turning to glare at Neville. "You saw a dog in the third floor corridor?"

"Hence the detention with you." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Boys! Please, let's stay on topic." Hermione hissed. "So Ron, Draco, you guys saw a- a man, a hooded figure, in the
forbidden forest drinking blood from a dead unicorn?"

They each shuddered and nodded. The tale was so gruesome that they rushed into the library before they would spill
anything. It was miraculous really, how Ron and Draco could be equally concerned about something, so of course,
Hasan took it very seriously.

"Wait...Unicorn blood, that's a highly magical substance that can sustain life even on the brink of death." Hasan
whispered, repeating what Altair had taught him. "The consequences are...horrific, hellish. Whoever it was must be
extremely desperate."

"Maybe they have a backup plan and are just using the blood to sustain them for a while." Hermione suggested. "But so
near the school...you don't think..."
"Someone needs something from inside the school." Neville finished. "And that leads to-"

"The third floor corridor." Ron said. "Whoever that thing was that we saw needs something below that trapdoor."

The revelations were so farfetched, yet so perfectly correlated that they all just had to think silently for a minute. So far, a
creepy figure was seen on Draco and Ron's detention drinking unicorn blood, Quirrell had been seen limping from the
forbidden corridor, and Ron had stumbled upon a trapdoor that was guarded by a dog. Somehow these were all
connected. Somehow...

"So basically, Quirrell is on the brink of death and needs something through that trapdoor to save his life." Hasan
murmured, summing it all up.

"Wow, that's...brilliant." Hermione breathed. "It makes me think of that troll. You don't think Quirrell let it in, do you?"

"It certainly makes sense." Draco nodded. "He was the first one to know about it, and why wasn't he at the feast like all
the other teachers? He could have easily let it in."

"But this is stuttering Quirrell, we're talking about!" Ron protested stubbornly. "He can't do anything!"

"Well, appearances can be deceiving." Neville told him lightly, "Maybe he's only pretending so that he raises less
suspicion?"

There was a general agreement to this as Quirrell seemed abnormally pathetic.

"What we need to find out now is what's through that door that Quirrell needs so badly." Hermione said briskly. "I suggest
we split up and start looking for substances that can extend one's life force."

"If only it were as simple as the Philosopher's Stone." Hasan laughed softly "...wait, what?"

"Hasan! You're a genius!" Hermione beamed.

"But isn't the stone supposed to be with the Flamel family?" Draco queried. "I'm hard pressed to believe they'd just give it
over to Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Neville frowned, "But I'm sure if Dumbledore asked. He's got a lot of power, you know...They say Hogwarts is the
safest place to hide things, except Gringott's that is, and well, Gran and A-albus don't seem to believe that Yo- V-v-volde-
m-mort is gone."

Hasan frowned sympathetically, knowing how much pressure Neville was under from Dumbledore to say things a
certain way.

"So you think Dumbledore set the stone as bait? That's cruel." Draco drawled. "But Dumbles was never known to think
outside the Greater Good."

"Hey! Dumbledore is the best wizard ever!" Ron protested with a look of earnest.

Hermione sighed, "Quiet, Ronald, you can fight with Draco later. So let's just suppose, hypothetically that the stone is at
Hogwarts. What are we supposed to do about it?"

"Stop Quirrell from getting it." Neville stated. "What if he's really a supporter of V-v- oh forget it, You-Know-Who? I certainly
don't want to have him back!"

"Neville's right." Hasan spoke up, "No matter what the truth is, someone's after that stone and I think it's best if they
should fail."

"Alright," Hermione said, a glint of determination in her eyes. She had become quite the little leader when it came to
things on research, "look for books on three-headed dogs, also under Cerberus..."

.oOo.

While Neville's ring of friends didn't treat him any differently, mainly because Ron was already Neville's friend, and
Hermione, Draco, and Hasan were suspicious from Dumbledore's actions from the troll incident and the month
following, most of the school did a complete 180.

Some of the Slytherins backed off to better analyze the situation, while many of the Gryffindors strove to find favor in the
so dubbed "Boy-Who-Lived." Neville's grades were even affected since kids offered to tutor him, teachers were more
patient (save Snape), and people weren't laughing or doing things that made him uncomfortable during class and tests.
All in all, one would think that his new celebrity status had completely improved his life. Even his Gran had decided to buy
him a cat to replace the runaway toad. It was a beautiful tortoiseshell with bright amber eyes. He named her Victory.
Hermione simply adored the cat and the name, and played with her often in the Gryffindor common room.

Neville wasn't the only one enjoying his familiar. Draco had recently taken to holing up in his room, doing Merlin knows
what, with his owl, Zephyrus, or just plain Zeph. During this time, Hasan was off his 'befriending Draco' guard and could
relax a bit around his housemates.

Tracey was a pleasure to be with really. Out of all the Slytherin girls, she was by far the gentlest. She often talked with
Daphne Greengrass, a girl with black hair and black eyes, and Theo if he wasn't too occupied with Blaise Zabini. The
odd thing about the girls was that they were all so very different. Not that Hasan was one to categorize or stereotype, but it
was amazing how Tracey could be arguing with Pansy over blood purity one minute, and then unite to yell at some
irritating Hufflepuff the next. Hasan found that this was a rather shrewd strategy employed to appear stronger than reality,
and found the parallel between Harry and Hasan. It was all very fitting, and he couldn't even begin to imagine himself in
with the Gryffindors!

Even though he saw potential in Hermione, Neville was just a pawn in Dumbledore's game. Though Neville didn't seem
to want the attention, there was no doubt he was benefiting from it, and there might come a time in the future when
Dumbledore asks a favor, and Neville would be in no position to refuse...So really, Neville was an associate (tool was too
crude a word), which left Ron. He was relentless in defending moron-Gandalf at every turn, yet was blind to the obvious
facts: Dumbledore knew someone dangerous was after the stone, and he had placed it in the building. As what? Bait?
Putting thousands of lives in danger for what? A spectacle? Training?

Speaking of Dark Lords and Light Lords, Hasan had recently researched why he was sent to live with the Dursley's after
the Dark Lord's supposed demise. Apparently there were things called blood-wards, but they only worked if Hasan
considered the Dursely's family. Obviously he did not, making the wards null and void. What total idiocy! Honestly, if
Dumbledore ever learned the truth, then Hasan was going to play the game. He wouldn't be helpless like Neville to
comply, he'd be a Slytherin and a hidden king. But secrets were lonely.

Some nights he missed Tina, but knew she was safe enough with Altair. Other nights he missed Altair and knew he was
safe enough with Tina. It was times like these that he would go up to the Owlery and bring Raven down to show Tracey
and Daphne. Raven was always by herself it seemed. No one else wanted to be near her, and oddly, she seemed a bit
miffed by the other owls...Hasan couldn't have been prouder.

.oOo.

"Aww! She's so cute!" Tracey gushed, holding Raven in the palms of her hands.

"I know! Hopefully you don't intend to send any heavy things with her." Daphne said. "Have you ever used her?"

Hasan blinked in confusion. Letters? Who did he have to send letters to? Altair wasn't going to receive any, and he wasn't
about to start sending messages to Hermione or Neville from across the Great Hall. So then, why had Altair sent him the
owl?

"Um."

"Don't you have any family?" Daphne enquired. "I've noticed you don't get much mail, sorry."

"No need to apologize." Hasan smiled charmingly. "I just like her is all. My father is working abroad right now, so I'm
afraid this little one would get lost."

"What does your father do, Hasan?" Tracey queried. "If you don't mind me asking." She turned her sky blue eyes on him,
eyes that had probably had older boys spilling their guts, but not Hasan.

"He travels and studies fighting styles and magical history."

"Oh, that's nice." Tracey said, though she seemed disappointed that he didn't have anything more interesting to say. She
stroked Raven's feathers and giggled with Daphne. "She's just so cute!"

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" Blaise asked curiously. He was dressed in his midnight blue silk pajamas, which
contrasted nicely to his darker skin. He had become fonder of Hasan in the past two months, slowly adapting to the
concept of half-blood. Blaise wasn't half bad once you got to know him, but his mother had been obsessed with blood
purity and had hammered it into her son's brain.
His mother had had five husbands so far, all mysteriously dead, and was currently in her sixth relationship. She only
married the best, and she categorized it with blood purity. Which also mysteriously correlated with the amount of gold
they had. However, Blaise had an open enough mind, especially since Draco started hanging around that mudblood
Granger, and that blood-traitor, Weasley.

"Look! It's Hasan's owl, Raven!" Daphne squealed, kissing the bird on the head, then smoothing down its soft head
feathers.

"That's...one small bird." Blaise stated after a minute. "I don't think I've seen that breed before. Ever, not even in the
Owlery."

"That's odd," Hasan said absently, "I never use her so she should always be there."

"Yeah, his father's always travelling." Tracey interjected. "It would be too much work to make the poor owl fly across
Europe!"

"Yeah, I guess so." Blaise said. "Speaking of owls, Draco's been in his room for forever! It's like he's sending someone a
book!"

"Really? That's what you think he's doing in there?" Theo said as he came over. "I don't understand it. He doesn't get any
personal letters over breakfast, but somehow ends up going in his room with one and sending a reply before we notice."

"Ooh, sounds like a mystery." Tracey smirked.

"No not really. I think he's just sending it to his dad." Theo said. "I saw the Malfoy family crest on one as he was stowing it
in his robes."

"So you do so know what he's doing, Theo!" Daphne accused playfully. "He's such a daddy's boy. My father will hear
ab out this!" she mimicked through a fit of giggles.

Well, that was fairly obvious, Hasan thought. He's still reporting back to his father... Yet the thought was unsettling for he
had actually come to appreciate Draco as part of his ring of friends. It just reminded Hasan that he should always be on
his guard.

"Pardonez-moi," Hasan murmured, knowing that his French would make the girls melt, and thus leave him free to move
as they gossiped.

He had to think things over. Just because Draco was playing the perfect friend, didn't mean he wasn't spying. Sure it was
only December, but Hasan had hoped (though he denied it) to have changed Draco! Well, apparently a bit over two
months wouldn't undo eleven years of Malfoy thinking.

He didn't know why the idea upset him. It just did. He knew that his emotions were just reactions caused by another's
behavior, and that realistically, Draco was ever much the brat he had been in Diagon Alley. So then, why was he feeling
things? Why was he having these emotions?

He frowned as he wondered how it was that he knew one thing and thought another. His emotions didn't match up.
Hasan didn't match up. For the love of Merlin, could he ever just be normal? Perhaps Mrs. Haydn was right...maybe he
did have that mental condition.

He sat on his bed and sighed, remembering how just a few years ago, he was lucky to get the fullest hay-filled sack as a
bed. He should be grateful, right? Not upset over some pureblood offspring. Urgh! Why did feelings have to get in the
way of everything?

He looked at the little owl in his hands, wondering now with utmost suspicion why he was given an owl. The poor thing
could hardly deliver a letter that was too heavy or too far away. Perhaps Altair meant for it to be something more
personal? Like sending a live letter to someone in Hogwarts? Or a friend?

"Hey, Raven." Hasan smiled, stroking her soft black feathers. "I don't know why I'm talking to you. I've only ever talked to
Tina, and I could actually understand her. Yeah, I'm a snake talker...but Altair doesn't really know that. I feel bad
sometimes about deceiving him, but not bad enough. Sometimes I'm just sad because I'm not upset about being mean.
It's all really complicated, sorry Raven."

The owl blinked at him with large black eyes.

"Yeah, you're an interesting owl. Really small too, no offense. Hey, do you think I could conjure a snake for me to talk to,
not that you're not interesting...what? Yeah I suppose I'll be found out...urgh! I'm talking to a bloody owl!" With that, Hasan
sent the bird outside with directions to fly back to the Owlery. Maybe Altair was more insightful than Hasan gave him
credit for: he actually felt better.

.oOo.

"Hasan!" Draco commanded, rapping his knuckles on the boy's door, "Hasan!"

"What?" came the muffled reply after a minute of continual knocking.

"It's Christmas, hurry up!"

Hasan shot out of bed with an odd smile on his face. Christmas? Wait, presents? Hasan had never gotten to celebrate a
proper Christmas since Altair was too paranoid to do much shopping apart from necessities, and his life before that had
no room for any celebrations. Hasan figured that wasn't about to start changing now, but was also excited to see what
everyone else was going to get. Hasan went to his trunk and pulled out a navy, fitted blazer, black shirt, and black pants.
His long brown hair was braided neatly down his back, hanging just above his hip, since he had just trimmed it with a
useful little spell he found.

"Hasan!" Draco demanded again, and Hasan walked readily out the dorm. "Has—oh, Merry Christmas, Hasan."

"Merry Christmas, Draco." Hasan smiled lightly, jade green eyes seemingly warm beneath his blank demeanor.

The two walked down to the common room together, where all the generations had gathered in seven separate little
circles, presents grouped in the middle of each like a bonfire.

Draco led Hasan to where the rest of the first-year Slytherins were seated, apologizing with a wink why he had been late.

"Really? Who sleeps in during a holiday?" Tracey teased.

"Apparently I do." Hasan grinned, looking at the large pile of presents with curiosity. Theirs were easily the largest pile,
but that was mostly because they had the most kids staying for the hols. Having a Malfoy in the mix did help too,
however...

"Alright, let's start!" Blaise said, and the Slytherins were off! tearing shreds of silver and green wrapping off of parcels and
boxes of every shape and size. The wrapping paper immediately vanished once it hit the ground, however, so that the
cold marble floor was still spotless as ever.

Hasan watched as Draco received a set of golden scales from his godfather, Severus Snape, a pair of black gloves from
his mother, and a snake pendant that was charmed to protect the wearer when sleeping. Draco got a bunch of other
things too, among them a book on quidditch, and some hair gel... But he seemed to like the first three the most.

Daphne's gifts were mainly perfume and jewelry, plus a book on magical flowers and their natural uses. She seemed
absolutely delighted and wore large smile.

Theo had gotten a bit less than Malfoy, some books on the Dark Arts, a scarf, and a bag of chocolate frogs from his
parents. After opening the candy, he offered one to everybody in the group, and Hasan gratefully accepted, savoring the
rich chocolate that melted sweetly on his tongue. Tracey unwrapped her gifts after Theo, for she was interested in what
he got.

Tracey ended up receiving a small portable chest set, some jewelry, a light blue dress to match her eyes, and a mother-
of-pearl enchanted comb.

Then they all looked to Hasan, who hadn't even started yet! He was shocked to find a small pile of presents for him.

"Well, go ahead." Draco said softly, as Hasan tentatively reached out for the first.

It was a book on Animagus transformations from Professor McGonagall. He was even touched she actually
remembered his expression of faint interest over it! He set the book aside and started on the second. It was also a book,
but from Neville.

'Thank you for then.' he had written on a small red card. The book was about different ways to disguise oneself,
including everything from spells to potions to wards. Hm, maybe this time he'd be able to figure out how to change back?
Or at least know what was happening...
The next gift was from none other than Draco Malfoy. Hasan was startled that the blonde would actually care...but then he
shoved it off as being some cursed artifact his father wanted him to have. Hasan opened it with caution, but soon had
his mouth gaping in awe. Inside the velvet-lined box was an elegant silver dagger with three large emeralds on the
handle.

"Draco...Thank you."

There were gasps around the circle as they gazed at the dagger in admiration. Blaise's eyes looked about to pop out of
their sockets.

"You're welcome. It's a sign of alliance and friendship," Draco said, "A bit old fashioned, but I wanted to get you
something unique...you can change the length of it with a single thought." he added as if Hasan would appreciate that
more.

"Wow, that's serious coming from the Malfoy's." Theo whistled.

"Extremely. Hasan, you're one lucky bloke." Blaise commented.

"Yeah, almost unheard of." Daphne said.

"Thank you." Hasan told him again, placing the dagger in his sleeve, where he had a multi-holster which only held his
wand as of yet. He'd have to ask Altair about it later, he decided, but right now...Hasan leaned over and gave Draco a hug,
making him turn a vibrant scarlet. "Sorry I didn't get you anything." he whispered into his ear.

"Awww!" Tracey and Daphne cooed.

Finally, Hasan turned to the very last gift, silver with a green satin bow, and began to open it slowly. This was the best
Christmas yet...

'From Altair Castell' it said. Hasan smiled joyfully at the name, and found beneath the wrapping a case of the Lord of the
Rings books, all paperback (because Hasan had a particular issue with hardbacks always closing on him), but with the
covers adorned with little gemstones and the titles painted in gold.

"Merlin..."

"Whoa, Hasan, what is that?" Theo asked.

"Are they books?" Blaise wondered, "Spell books?"

"Muggle books?" Tracey tried, "Oh, yes! I've heard of them before!"

"Really?" Daphne asked, "You?"

"Yes! The author was ingenious really, even for a muggle. He imagined the entire world of Middle Earth-"

"Middle Earth?" Draco asked dubiously, "How-"

"It's a fiction book, Draco!" Tracey chastised, "Anyway, it's all about these halflings called hobbits and they go on
adventures to destroy the one ring of power. You know, fighting dragons and getting treasure, and meeting kings and
princesses!"

"It sounds good," Theo said tentatively. "For a muggle, I mean." he hastened to add.

"Yeah, Hasan, you'll enjoy it." Tracey said, "My father read them to me all the time."

Hasan grinned, "I've read them when I was eight."

"Merlin!" Tracey gasped, "That's...really good."

Draco was eyeing the muggle tomes apprehensively.

"Well, shall we go down to breakfast?" Draco suggested. It seemed he was uncomfortable with others knowing more
than him, even on muggle literature.

"Of course, Draco," Hasan said liltingly, "I want to see what the Boy-Who-Lived has got."
At the collective wrinkling of noses, Hasan laughed softly, knowing that in reality, Neville probably thought the idea was
even more distasteful.

Hasan was right.

.oOo.

"Who the bloody hell is Cho Chang?" Ron exclaimed over Neville's shoulder.

"I don't know, but I think the book looks fascinating." Hermione oohed at the Herbology text, flipping through its contents.
Neville just shrugged helplessly at the large pile of gifts.

Most of the Gryffindors had gone home for the holidays, but not Neville, Ron, or Hermione: Hermione had too much
reading to do in the library to go home, and Ron and Neville just wanted to be away from their crazy families. Neville was
actually dreading the day he would have to go home for the summer hols. Gran was sure to smother him, and that would
just be too weird since she never ever 'smothered' someone, least of all 'nearly-a-squib-Neville.'

"I can't believe all of these...gifts! They don't even know me!"

"But Neville!" Ron screamed, "You're the Boy-Who-Lived! And recently out of hiding too! How you managed to fool them
into thinking you can't do magic-!"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed.

"It's alright," Neville sighed, opening some candy assortment from Honeydukes, "I'd rather they think I could actually do
magic than not. I'm only improving because everyone's been helping me so much." He sent a pointed look to Hermione,
who grinned back at him.

"Neville, you just needed a bit of encouragement!...No, don't even compare me to that relative that threw you out the
window!" Hermione said as Neville frowned.

Ron looked between them, wondering what he had missed. "Don't worry about it." Hermione whispered. "Oh, look at that!
We missed some!"

They looked where the witch was pointing where indeed sat a little neat stack of presents. Neville groaned.

"Aw, cheer up, Nev! All I got was a Weasley sweater and a couple of chocolate frogs. Plus some quidditch book...hm, I
actually did get a lot."

"Of course you did, Ronald." Hermione sighed playfully. "Alright, so what are they, Nev?"

"Erm, two are from Hasan for Hermione and me, and one is for me, but there's no name..."

Hermione glanced at the mystery gift but opted to open Hasan's first.

"Oh! Hair spells? They have these?" Hermione cried excitedly, finding a Witch's Guide to Manageable Hair by Catherine
Coiffure.

"Yeah, my mum uses them all the time." Ron said thoughtfully. "They're really great...not that you need them or
anything...or that I would know..."

"Alright, so what did you get Neville?"

"Er," Neville looked down at the vials in his hand, "They're labeled as Memory Enhancement Potions. And then, a book on
disillusionment charms..." A soft smile settled on his face. Hasan really knew him, didn't he? He knew Neville didn't want
this, that Neville wanted nothing more than to hide.

"And the unknown gift?" Ron pressed.

Neville reached for it with great trepidation, and carefully unwrapped the parcel. The paper fell away easily and
disappeared as it made contact with the red carpet floor.

"Whoa..." Silver, shimmering fabric like water, draped over his hands and cascaded to the floor. But most of all, his hands
had vanished beneath the cloak.

"Wicked!" Ron shouted, "That's an invisibility cloak!"

"My Gran said these were super rare." Neville breathed in awe. He swung the cloak around himself and gasped as his
entire body disappeared. "I wonder who sent it..."

Just then, Hermione had spotted a little paper card that had fallen out when the cloak was unfurled. She snatched it up
and read aloud, "This cloak was destined for our savior. Your parents would want you to have it..." Hermione looked up
questioningly. "How odd. But you know...now we can look in the Restricted Section of the library!"

Ron slapped his head, "Is that all you can think about? He got an invisibility cloak, Hermione! Not a library pass!"

"What? Planning on pranking the Slytherins? They aren't that bad you know!"

"Well just because Hasan got you something!"

"What, so you're jealous?" Hermione screeched, "I can't believe you, Ronald! Come on Neville, let's got see if Hasan and
Draco have gone down to breakfast yet."

.oOo.

Christmas day had been lovely, with snow falling gently to the ground, and warm fires crackling with lots of laughs
between friends. Overall, the holidays were a happy time.

Not for Hasan Castell.

He couldn't recall a fully wonderful Christmas in his entire life! So it was, wrapped in his musings with his nose stuck in
the Return of the King, that Hasan found himself pacing down to the dungeons. Draco had already taken up to whatever
it was he was doing in his room, and the Gryffindors had already retired to their bedchambers. Hasan sighed, times like
these, when he was alone, were both liberating and terrifying. He couldn't lie to himself. Alone he was Harry. Which was
ludicrous really...

His little black boots crept silently over the cold dungeon floor, his breath coming out in little misty puffs. Then again,
being alone was kind of nice, if only the universe didn't hate him: a shuffle to his left, some sort of breathing, a rustle of
fabric on fabric...

"Mr. Castell." came Snape's silky voice. "What," he sneered, "Could a boy like yourself be doing wandering the dungeons
at night...Alone?"

Hasan turned slowly, biting his lip with his book clutched to his chest.

"Professor Snape." Hasan breathed. "I was just...being alone."

Even for telling the truth, his answer sounded pretty pitiful.

"Indeed. And pray what, Mr. Castell, did you hope to achieve by 'b eing alone'?" It was clear from his tone that he was
suspicious, but that was really the best answer Hasan could give. He shivered slightly despite his little gray jacket,
making Snape raise an eyebrow. "Well, come along then! Follow me."

He turned dramatically, robe billowing behind him before glancing back at the sill motionless child.

"Where are we going, sir?" Hasan asked shrewdly. He didn't really know Snape all too well, apart from potions where he
mainly picked on Longbottom. As head of his house, Hasan could only hope (and dread) that this man was more
intelligent and undervalued than the school believed.

"Must you always question the teacher?" Snape snapped. He paused for a moment, watching as Hasan's jade eyes
seemed to examine the invisible options before him. "We're going to my office, Mr. Castell. Surely you would not refuse a
warm mug of cider or hot chocolate?"

At his favorite drink, Hasan's eyes lit up. Severus smirked. Nothing like food to lure a lonely Slytherin. Snape led the way
to the Potions classroom, then just beyond where the public entrance to his office lay, across from a portrait of Salazar
Slytherin. Hasan had never ventured this far into the corridor before, for fear of having to answer questions why he was
there. He could just imagine Draco telling his father of some unfathomable relationship between him and Professor
Snape. Oh, the horror!

Which reminded him, Snape was Draco's godfather- so perhaps Snape was spying for Lucius too? Or perhaps Snape
was spying on them both only for himself. Dealing with Slytherins always did make the variables prone to many different
possibilities...
Snape opened the heavy wood door, set in heavy iron hinges, and indicated that Hasan enter with an impatient glare.
Hasan had admittedly never been in the professor's office before. Many kids, like Ron Weasley, were in it far too often.
Hasan wasn't sure if that was good or bad, for now, he was caught by surprise. The room was actually rather large, with
a desk and two student chairs, and many shelves of books. The walls were not, indeed, Slytherin green, but a soft sage,
similar to the dorms. The floor was a dark stained hardwood, and the only lights were a small iron chandelier hanging
from the ceiling.

"Have a seat." Snape instructed, conjuring cushion on the hard backed chairs. He usually liked it when his vict- he
meant, his students, were uncomfortable in his presence. Hasan, however, he wanted to know- which then meant, the
boy had to be somewhat comfortable.

"Thank you, sir." Hasan said quietly, though he might not have said anything at all.

His face was blank, handsome, but blank, with average jade green eyes and pink lips. The boy also had long brown hair
in a braid tossed over his left shoulder, and a stylish blazer, new boots, and neat shirt and pants. The only indication of
his being slightly more mentally active (for he looked pretty statuesque) was the large tome he had placed heavily in his
lap.

"Mr. Castell." Snape began, gracefully falling into his chair, "What would you like to drink?"

Hasan thought a moment. He'd like to drink a lot of things: apple juice, apple cider, pumpkin juice, peach smoothies, root
beer floats, Shirley Temples, chocolate milk, hot chocolate, melted ice cream-

"Mr. Castell!" Snape snapped, "I haven't got all day. You clearly wanted something in the hall."

Oh, this man was so confusing! One minute he's asking about drinks, the next he's wondering Hasan's life desire!
Honestly...how was that Slytherin? There were too many variables. Hasan could play coy and the man wouldn't even
know!

Snape was staring at the boy in incredulity. The damn boy's face was blank! Blank! He remained motionless,
unresponsive, yet...calm, not cowed, but very relaxed. What the hell? This was Altair-the-idiot-who-downed-several-lethal-
potions -and-miraculously-did-not-die's child! What the bloody fucking hell?

Oh, goddammit.

"HASAN!" Snape thundered, snatching the book off the child's lap with ease. Well, if the boy wanted to play that game
with the real Slytherin master, then Snape was more than willing to oblige. But you know what? The little cretin didn't even
protest or scream or get up. He just stared Severus Snape right in the eye, looking all so innocent as his lips quivered.
"How dare you just ignore me! I am your Head of House and I demand respect! Now tell me what you want to drink right
now or I'm confiscating this!"

Finally! A specific question!

"I'd like hot chocolate, professor...if, if you don't mind." Hasan said curiously. "Can I have my book back? It's muggle. It
won't interest many."

Snape snapped his fingers and a steaming mug of hot chocolate appeared before Hasan. He glanced up at the greasy-
haired man, and then back at the drink.

"Well? Is it not to your liking?" Snape sneered. "Been hanging around Longbottom enough for his arrogance to rub off on
you?"

"I can have it?" Hasan asked, reaching out for the mug.

"Yes!" Snape growled in exasperation. What the hell was wrong with this kid? Hasan took a tentative whiff of the drink
before deeming it clear of potions. Did the boy honestly think he would slip in a potion to drug him? Interrogate
him?...And then it clicked: Hasan knew something that he didn't want Snape to know.

And Snape had a good idea of what it was.

"I can also conjure us some abominable biscuits if," he looked Hasan dead on, "if you tell me all you know about the
third floor corridor." He knew it was a risk, but when wasn't it when it came to a Castell?

"I don't know anything, sir." Hasan said, though a flicker of recognition lit behind those dull orbs.
"I think you're lying." Snape hissed. "Now I suggest you tell the truth before I decide to use up the rest of my Veritaserum."

Hasan cocked his head. "May I have my book back?"

"No, you may not!" Snape snarled, "Now tell me everything you think you know of the third floor corridor."

It took him two tries every time, didn't it? Hasan thought in amusement.

"I've heard that Quirrell was limping away from the corridor. I've also heard that a three headed dog was guarding a
trapdoor, leading to the Philosopher's Stone."

Snape's jaw would've hung open if not for his many years of spying.

"And, pray, how did you hear?" Snape asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I think you don't understand. Do you mean how did I come about this knowledge or how do sound
waves travel?"

Now Severus was an intelligent man, not a lucky one, but an intelligent one, which basically made him the complete
opposite of Altair Castell. Yet, even he had this peculiar feeling of staring something in the face and not being able to
identify it. But even without having a proper classification, Severus also knew how to think on his feet.

"The former." Severus said as gently as he could.

"Oh, well you see, that's private. But I don't think it's too much to worry about since it's all just speculation anyway."

Rather accurate speculation, Snape mused. Well, it didn't matter anyway how the boy came ab out this information, just
that Hasan had it, and now Severus had the last piece to the puzzle: It was Quirrell. He had had his suspicions, but
having a complete child piece this together gave him the confirmation he needed. And by Merlin, wasn't that just sad?

"I see. Well, drink up, and under no circumstances are you to go after that stone." Snape sighed, then summoned some
hot tea and biscuits from the kitchens which appeared on his desk with a pop.

"Can I have my book back now?" Hasan pressed, unperturbed that he had just been forbidden to go on what would
appear to be a lovely adventure.

Snape nodded, sliding the book back over the table. Lord of the Rings...thick for a children's book. Just then, a loud
chime sounded off and Snape leapt up to get it. In seconds, Snape was back with a brown paper bag and he gave them
to Hasan as well. This was all too familiar.

"It's you, isn't it?" Hasan asked, carefully unraveling the bag and taking out a vial.

"Give those to your father." Snape ordered, "Use your owl, she's keyed to his location." Snape seemed disgusted at this
detail, but Hasan's mind was elsewhere.

"How do you know she's keyed?" Hasan asked, surely..."You use Raven."

"Altair gave me permission, I assumed you knew." Raven? What kind of imbecile named one's owl Raven?

Hasan stared at him in pure shock. How had he not known? From the comments of Raven's inconspicuousness, to the
fact that Altair gave him an owl to actually use. Hasan knew why the second hadn't occurred to him: because it was idiocy
to key anything to one's location, especially if you were in hiding.

"I didn't even know where he got the potions." Hasan confessed evenly, causing Snape to frown in disbelief. "Let alone
that you used my owl or that my owl could send things to him! Wait...you know where he is. You're Draco's godfather.
Does Lucius know? He's a follower of the Dark Lord!" Hasan was making so many revelations at once that he just had to
drink his hot chocolate at the end of his speech.

"Mr. Cas- Hasan," Snape switched, startling the child, "Yes, I am Draco's godfather. Yes, I am good friends with Lucius
Malfoy. But I am also loyal to whom I serve."

"I guess that's the question, then, isn't it?" Hasan challenged. "No, don't tell me. I'll learn eventually."

Snape blinked at this brash statement before continuing on with his reassurances. "I make this potion (he gestured) to
help your father. He doesn't need them, but I make them anyway. Actually, he insisted that I shouldn't send him any more
but I am because I wish to help him. Do you understand?"
"Then you lied, didn't you?" Hasan asked wryly, "My dad didn't give you permission to use Raven after all."

"That is neither here nor there." Snape leered. "As I was saying, Mr. Malfoy is a friend of mine, but nothing more. He
certainly does not know Altair's location. Neither do I, really. He believes your father to be dead."

"And yet he told Draco to watch me. He's been writing reports to his father." Hasan said. "It's rather obvious."

Snape actually quirked a lip in amusement. Yes, he could see how Lucius junior would lack some grace and finesse
that Lucius senior would possess.

"So Lucius does suspect." Severus whispered to himself. This was rather alarming indeed. If Lucius knew Severus had
been helping a defector then Severus was royally screwed when the Dark Lord returned. Salazar, help him! Altair was
going to be the death of him!

"Sir," Hasan asked, effectively breaking him from his reverie. "If Mr. Malfoy finds out, will it matter? Is there a Dark Lord to
report to?"

Figures Altair's son wouldn't be an idiot!

"We believe, that is many of the staff members, that the Dark Lord has not truly been vanquished."

"I see." Hasan replied in a kind of sad way. He grabbed a biscuit, chewing off the top wearily before beginning presently,
"Sir, what can you tell me about Animagi?" He seemed so interested and so on task despite the question being so
completely random.

It was then that Snape realized what he was seeing. It made sense: the specific questions, the random questions, the
stoic mood, the no mood, the blank face, the caution. This seriously socially-challenged son of Altair's was a genius,
probably on the diagnosable scale...and Snape was now in charge of him! Oh dear Merlin!

And suddenly, the next six years just got a whole lot longer.

Thanks to:

InkWave, Blubbles(guest), Theta-McBride, Vangran, Snow Leopard Pasha, Nagilover4ever, geetac, mizzrazz72,
Verdantia Akalixi, delenda est c, RebeliousOne, yotje1988, Virgo(guest), SSGRet, TyrialFrost, Guest, bookivore,
bookaddict19, duskrider, teedub, Hericus C, Lord worth, Gravity's Child, EtherealKnight21, Crazykiller2606,
Kairan1979, Have a Little Feith, Chi Vayne, Guest, Guest, May a Chance, medward, oneeyereader, The Dark One
Rising, Guest, Shikaku Zetsumei, and Post U Later

For the lovely reviews!

A/N-

Hello! Thanks for all the reviews! I'm spending the weekend with family, so, trapped entertaining my little cousins, I
could use some reviews to brighten my day! Also, this week has been Hellish, I'm just so relieved it's over, so please!

PLEASE REVIEW!

Next Chapter: The Mirror and The Stone (We are nearing the end of Book One!)
*Chapter 8*: The Mirror and the Stone
A/N- Woohoo! Welcome to the beginning of the conclusion of Year 1. Technically, Year 1 doesn't officially end till next
chapter, but...this is pretty much all that's left.

This being said, I cordially invite you to take part in the wonderful journey up ahead. After this chapter, the foundation
will have been laid for the real plot. Funny, I know, but honestly, there is a reason why it's labelled as Mystery. I've
been playing it safe so far with the canon, but canon-manipulation is a specialty I intend to highlight in Year 2.

I'm getting confused with the people I've yet to thank, so let this be a GIANT THANK YOU to everyone who has made
me smile. If you have a specific question I'll answer in a PM, of course, but I think I'll hold off on the thank-you's for a
bit. ;)

So without further ado, (except to BEG FOR A BETA) please enjoy the conclusion of Year 1!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 8: The Mirror and the Stone

Two months ago, Neville wouldn't have ever dreamed of sneaking out. Let alone doing so beneath the cover of an
invisibility cloak. He wasn't sure why exactly he felt so adamant about keeping Ron in the dark. (Hermione had been
easier to justify because she was in the girl's dorm.) Perhaps it was because Ron would tell Hermione who would yell at
him for breaking the rules. Perhaps it was because Ron only saw the Boy-Who-Lived. There were still some suspicious
kids who believed in Harry Potter, but Neville was here and Harry was off in the mountains- so naturally, Neville received
all the credit.

The pressure and attention was all just getting to be a bit much. He wished he could talk to Hasan again, but if he were
honest with himself, Draco terrified him, and the two were always together. No, the first night out Neville would go alone.

At first he had considered going to the kitchens and having some more pumpkin pie. Then he wanted to explore the
library's restricted section and make Hermione proud, but just as he was about to enter, a door caught his eye. It was a
regular door, a few twists and turns down from the library, but Neville could have sworn it wasn't there mere hours ago!
How unusual! Neville's curiosity got the better of him as he pulled it open and walked inside. The interior was bare and
rather dark, only about ten feet by ten feet across.

"Lumos." he whispered, and then jumped back in fright.

A large, beautiful mirror, about twenty feet high with a thick golden frame stood before him. How has he not noticed it
before? At the top lay a magnificent stretch of gold carving in a peak, bordered by two towers, but what was most
interesting were the words: Erised stra ehru oyt ub e cafru oyt on wohsi.

It was complete nonsense, so Neville just ignored it. He was much more concerned with the fact that he was in the
mirror, despite the aid of his invisibility cloak. He still wondered who gave it to him...

He whipped around, just to ascertain of his utter isolation, and then slowly dropped the cloak to the ground. It fell like
water over river stones, but he didn't pay any mind, for the mirror...for the mirror was showing something truly remarkable.

"Gran? Mum? Uncle? Dad?" But there were others, "Hasan? Hermione? Ron? Dumbledore!"

He turned around again, but there was no one. The only sound came from his labored breaths and from his beating
heart. Slowly, he faced the mirror again...

"Neville, we love you no matter what." Gran's crackly voice told mirror-Neville. "Even if you can't do magic very well. Or be
the Boy-Who-Lived, or even if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returns. We love you unconditionally. No matter-"

Neville's hand that had been on the mirror slid away as tears rolled down his cheeks. Gran would never say that to him.
She might love him, but certainly she would have expectations of him! This was a demon mirror! But...he loved it. He
watched as mirror-Gran and mirror-Uncle gave him a hug before his friends took center stage. Mirror-Hermione drew
close to Neville as a bang ensued from the hallway. Neville froze.

"Mrs. Norris, do you smell him?" Filch raised his voice, "I know you're in there! The library door was askew!"
Damn! How did a cat care about doors anyway? One day he was going to give Mrs. Norris a kick...

"I'll have you know that you'll be in detention for a month!-"

"Argus? What exactly is going on here?" Minerva's prim voice came through.

"There's a student out and about on a midnight ride!" Argus growled.

"On Christmas?" Minerva asked. "They're all too tired, how did you deduce a student was out?"

"Mrs. Norris found the library door ajar."

"Ah... Well, why would they stick around here? Bring your cat and we'll be off to-" her pointed look made it clear she meant
the corridor.

"Right."

Soon two pairs of footsteps shuffled and strode briskly away. They were quite loud in the silence and Neville was
surprised he had not heard them approach. The mirror...he felt an aching to look back, but he knew if he did, he'd be
caught for sure. Steeling himself, he flung the cloak about him and scurried back to Gryffindor tower. The portrait of the
Fat Lady eyed him speculatively as he shrugged out his cloak.

"Caput Draconis." Neville muttered, as the Fat Lady rolled her eyes before swinging open for him. But Neville was just
thankful to be through the door:

He was going to have to thank Hasan later for those memory potions.

.oOo.

"Animagi?" Severus repeated. "And what would you want to learn about them for?"

"Professor McGonagall mentioned them, sir. She's been tutoring me at times and briefly explained when I asked about
her cat form."

"Ah. I see." Damn Minerva! She should really keep some tricks to herself! Imagine, if all the school learned to be
Animagus! "It is a highly difficult transformation that would take years to understand let alone practice and fulfill."

Instead of looking crestfallen, Hasan just stared up at him. "I don't mind time." Hasan said. Honestly, he felt as if he were
living on borrowed time. Just like in Narnia, best to just get started right away and then repeat the process should it
disappear.

"Twenty years, and you don't mind?" Snape asked lightly, but with a hidden edge.

"I think you're exaggerating to discourage me." Hasan replied equally as lightly. "I hate bragging, and I hate hypocrites, so
I must be one...but I can learn rather quickly. Surely you've noticed?"

Of course Severus had noticed! The damn child managed to be in his top three, competing with (and seriously
desecrating) Granger and Malfoy.

"Yes." Snape bit out. "But I highly advise against independent study. Transforming one's body is dangerous and should
not be taken lightly. It might be painful at first, you may be stuck in your form due to an injury-"

"But, sir, independent implies a singular." Hasan said.

"No absolutely not!" Snape snapped. "I refuse to condone-"

"I am rather good at eluding the authorities, Professor, Altair has seen to that. Hermione and Draco and also top of our
year. If you insist on withdrawing your guidance..."

Withdrawing! Snape hadn't even been aware he was involved!

"Don't you dare try and blackmail me, Mr. Castell. You will find fighting with fire will get you badly burned."

A flaming manila folder...

"Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem." Hasan said with a charming smile. "You won't tell Mr. Malfoy because you're loyal to
Altair. You won't tell on me because Dumbledore would have your head on a platter for teaching a child anything useful.
Or even having knowledge of it and being unable to stop it. Knowledge you will have, but just see if we won't succeed. I'd
much rather have your help. You seem intelligent...I like your voice actually. So will you make it final?"

Severus sighed. This child would be the death of him.

"I agree to guide you in order to avoid unintended suicide." Snape said finally. "But tell one word of this to anybody..." His
death glare was enough of a warning.

"Please don't concern yourself, Professor. Now that I have your support, you should know I only have one last thing to
make the transformation complete."

Snape literally gaped at him. What the hell had just happened? This child had cornered him, blackmailed him, forced his
allegiance in aid all for a process he had already completed. What the fuck?

"Explain yourself." Severus demanded, vanishing their cups and biscuits with a snap of his fingers, and leaning across
the desk to breathe in the boy's infuriatingly blank face. Hasan tilted his head. "Oh, for the love of Salazar! Why did you
need my support?"

Hasan's face lit up. "Because you, unlike all the other Professors...hm, maybe not Professor McGonagall, don't seem to
notice much of anything. You would surely find out sooner or later, and I wish to avoid a confrontation with authorities as
much as possible."

Why that little snake! He really did know how to keep under the radar! Severus was both proud and agitated all at once.

"So what you really want from me is the potion and my silence." Severus stated. Hasan nodded.

"Thank you." Hasan bowed his head before getting up, off of the chair. "...for the hot chocolate and biscuits and showing
an interest in my book. Merry Christmas."

With the thick tome pressed to his chest, Hasan Castell exited the Potion Master's office all in one piece. Ron had been
exaggerating- Snape was really quite amiable once you got to know him!

.oOo.

The following night brought Hermione and Neville to the Slytherin table.

"How are you, Tracey?" Hermione asked eagerly of the blonde witch. Tracey lowered her eyes demurely, looking to Theo
and then to Daphne before smiling up at the mudblood.

"Hello, Hermione. I am doing well, thank you."

Meanwhile, Neville had discreetly given Hasan a note telling him to meet him before the library right after curfew. He
invited Draco as well, for the Boy-Who-Lived had learned to trust the pureblood aristocrat. Draco still detested the red
head, but he did get on well enough with Neville. Hermione even seemed to bother him less. A vast improvement and
really a relief because pretending to like someone is so much more tiring than actually genuinely liking someone.
Hasan supposed it was the Troll Incident that brought them together, and then of course, the recent events and their
mystery. Either way, Hasan enjoyed this more relaxed Draco. He still sneered and drawled and smirked, but was a lot
less malicious (at least towards Hasan).

"We'll go?" Draco whispered. Hasan nodded imperceptibly as the rest of the Slytherin table chatted loudly around them.

So it was, that a few hours later, Hasan and Draco had slipped out of the Slytherin dungeons and were waiting together
in their pajamas, silky black and silver respectively, for Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Where in Salazar's name, is he?" Draco hissed as he wrapped his arms tightly around his front.

"Cold?" Hasan wondered.

Draco opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

"It's alright," Hasan said and cast a quick warming charm on the both of them. Malfoy blinked in surprise before smiling
at his friend. For a half-blood, this wizard sure knew a lot.

"Hey," Draco started softly, "do you mind if I borrow your Lord of the Rings books sometime?"
"I don't think I'd mind." Hasan responded, "Just promise me you'll start with the Hobbit, Draco. The trilogy is built on the
prelude."

"Oh, alrigh-" Draco began but then the next few words were cut off though his mouth continued to move. Hasan looked
around in mild interest before suddenly, Neville's head appeared out of thin air! Draco screamed and leapt back, tugging
Hasan close and holding onto his arm. So much for fearless Malfoys...

"Hey Hasan, Draco." Neville whispered with a smile, opening the front of his cloak so that they could see him. He
canceled the silencing charm with a mutter and wave of his wand, and Draco looked about to tear his head off.

"What were you thinking, Longbottom?" he whispered furiously. "You could have messed up and made us mute for life!"

"Oh come, Draco. Neville's not half bad." Hasan observed. "But I am curious. Where did you get that invisibility cloak?"

Neville wet his lips and frowned. "Christmas gift. I'm not sure."

Hasan reached out to touch it, feeling the smooth magical fabric glide between his fingers like water from a trickling
stream...

"You know this is an original." Hasan whispered. "The Three Brothers."

Draco gasped. "You mean-" he gaped at the cloak to Hasan's face then back. "You can't mean that that's-"

"Merlin, Hasan!" Neville exclaimed, "That's wicked!" Apparently Ron's meager vocabulary had rubbed off on him.

"Indeed." Hasan remarked, unaffected. "Where are we going? I assume you had something to show us."

"Oh, yeah. Um, follow me." Neville said, and slowly descended down the hall. "I just wanted to thank you," Neville said as
they walked, "for those memory potions. They really helped."

Draco glared sharply at Hasan.

"You got him something but not me!" Draco demanded haughtily.

Hasan shrugged. He wasn't about to tell Draco that he only gave presents to people who trusted him. Not the other way
around since Hasan didn't really trust anyone. But Hermione had certainly learned to rely on him, and Neville had as
good as confessed the entire farce. (Though Hasan could've figured it out it was so poorly executed.)

"Draco," Hasan said evenly, "I had no idea you were going to get me a gift."

"No idea!" Draco practically screamed as Neville ushered them inside the room and cast another silencing charm
around the door. "How could you not know? We are friends! Hasan, Salazar! Friends! I know you're weird but did you
seriously not notice?"

"You're always with me," Hasan said slowly, "when we eat and always when we study. You save me a seat in nearly every
class."

Draco watched Hasan's blank eyes and keened.

"How can you not feel? Can you really not feel anything at all? I've been begging my father for days! Days! To let me give
you that dagger!" At Neville's sharp intake of breath, Draco rounded on him, "Yes! The Malfoy family dagger! Three of its
kind ever made, and I had to beg and make promises just to make father even consider it! And now you go off and make
the Boy-Who-Lived some potions!"

Neville shrank back. Draco was in a frenzy now, blonde hair shaken loose from its gelled bindings, and chest heaving
with the energy of his outburst. Malfoy's weren't supposed to lose control. Malfoy's weren't meant to make friends or beg
or cry.

"Dammit!" Draco shouted before his eyes came to rest on a glorious golden mirror, mainly just to hide his face from the
others.

"The mirror of Erised." Neville announced somewhat lamely. "I-I wanted to share it with you. But, um, I think you'll figure it
out on your own." Desperate to leave the two, Neville hid back inside his cloak and ran quickly from the room. A
distressed Malfoy was a scary thing indeed. It wasn't worth seeing his forbidden fruit again.

"I show not your face b ut your heart's desire." Hasan read aloud, pointing to the inscription at the top. He didn't seem at
all bothered that Neville had just left them alone. Or that Draco was now staring at him intently.

"Dammit, Hasan." Draco muttered, tears trekking slowly down his face. "I just don't understand why you like Longbottom
more than me."

"Envy doesn't become you, Draco. Don't cry. It's a waste of emotion."

Malfoy laughed pitifully. "And you would know about emotion, wouldn't you?"

"No, no I wouldn't." Hasan said sadly. "I'm surprised that you asked your father for the dagger. I didn't know of its
importance. France has similar things, but I had not made the correlation...I will give you a gift, Draco."

"No need." Draco said, even as his eyes wandered over to the mirror and stayed entranced there. "You couldn't give me
what I need."

Hasan bit his lip as he watched Draco fall into the mirror's trance. His face became dreamlike and tranquil but fraught
with such hideous anguish. A child's face shouldn't look like that, but it did. Hasan turned his large jade eyes towards the
mirror and gazed with little excitement. There he was, there Draco was...and then, mirror-Hasan turned his wide jade
eyes to Hasan, locking onto him as the reflection of his soul,...and the eyes glowed a brilliant emerald green, lighting up
the entire mirror in emerald light...so beautiful...

.oOo.

"Hasan! Hasan!' a voice above was calling him, was slapping his face, and pulling his braid. "Hasan! Wake up! Merlin!
Hasan!"

"Draco?" Hasan asked, then stilled as the world tilted on its axis. "Oh, Salazar, what happened?"

"I-I don't know, you were with me one second, and then you fell down the next."

"I...see." The green light, the emerald green light. It had been so beautiful, so beautiful...

"What did you see in the mirror?" Draco asked tentatively.

"What did you see?" Hasan asked, propping himself up on the castle floor.

Draco bit his lip and swallowed nervously.

"I saw...my entire family, all safe and well. No Azkaban, no danger, just-well, there."

The blond heaved a sigh and shifted uncomfortably. When he really thought about it, his family was so screwed up. How
could he ever have what the mirror showed? Why did the mirror show things he couldn't have?

"Draco, I don't suppose you want to learn your Christmas gift now, do you?" Hasan wondered idly, succeeding in
breaking through his brooding.

"Learn?" Draco echoed, wondering what on earth the boy was talking about.

"To be an animagus." Hasan turned to him and smiled teasingly, "I've just made all the preparations. You didn't think I
forgot about you, did you, mon ami?"

.oOo.

It was exactly two days after Christmas when the Castell boy was back in Snape's office, enjoying some chocolate
biscotti's.

"When will the potion be ready?" Hasan asked as Severus went around the room, reorganizing and sorting through
various paperwork.

"I would have thought you knew, seeing as you know everything else," Snape sneered, looking at Hasan down his
hooked nose. He sighed, "I expect it to be completed in another six months."

"Thank you...Do you mind giving me the extra three doses as well?" Hasan enquired. "I know it makes four, and I would
really like to use them all."

Snape raised as arched eyebrow at this. "Four? Three extras for whom, may I ask?"
"Je ne sais pas, I don't know." Hasan answered.

Snape released an exasperated sigh. "Who do you think will use them?" This whole rephrasing sentences thing was
really quite irritating. (Luckily, Severus Snape was a master at language so was able to rephrase within seconds!)

"Draco for his Christmas present." Hasan said happily. Snape fought not to wince. The last thing he needed was for
Lucius junior to be scurrying around Hogwarts as some, undetectably, devilish animal! He nodded anyway, for he was
curious as to whom else. "I am unsure as to the others."

"Think carefully, Mr. Castell. This is not a simple procedure. Mr. Malfoy shall come to me after he has completed his
Analytical stage. I, in turn, will aid him in the Visualization stage and finally the potion."

Hasan smiled. He knew this had been a good idea.

"Professor? A bit off topic, but I was wondering. What do you know of the Mirror of Erised?"

Snape stiffened; Hasan's eyes narrowed.

"It is the mirror of desire." Snape answered shortly.

"Is it accurate?"

Snape stopped in his work and gave Hasan a shrewd, contemplative look.

"Why is it that you wish to know, Mr. Castell?"

"I saw it." Hasan breathed, and then bit his lip, "...and then I fainted."

"You...fainted?" Snape repeated tonelessly. "You somehow found the mirror and fainted? What in Merlin's name did you
see?"

He knew that Dumbledore had placed the mirror inside the school for 'safekeeping,' but somehow it had escaped
Severus mind that Dumbledore's definition of safe was not the same as his. What headmaster left a priceless artifact
where any thoughtless urchin could come and knock it over?

"I saw emerald. A flash of emerald. Is there a spell that creates beautiful emerald light? It was so gorgeous. I lost myself
in it..."

Severus swallowed, his breath hitching in his throat. He wasn't sure what to say, what to keep and what to tell. There was
only one curse he knew of...only one.

"The killing curse, Mr. Castell." Severus told him gravely, "The Avada Kedavra, the worst of the three unforgivable." His
voice was hoarse, and rightly so. This young boy in front of him had just described the killing curse as beautiful...

"I'm sorry." Hasan said, not sounding it at all. "But I think I'll be late for lunch if I don't leave right now."

"Of course." Severus said, frozen in place. "Of course..."

.oOo.

The final exams were looming ever closer and Hermione practically lived in the library. Yet, she still managed to have
time for Hasan, Draco, and Neville, and would on occasion help Ron with his homework.

Draco, like Hasan, was more than prepared for his tests, and was only now mastering visualization with his godfather,
Severus. He imagined his Animagus form to be large or small and shrewd. He wanted something he could use to
impress, something that would be beautiful. It was truly the best Christmas gift ever, albeit a little past the deadline.

True to his word, Severus had saved the four batches for Hasan to do with as he pleased. Hasan wasn't sure if he
wanted to train Hermione, but was even considering giving some to Neville. He decided to leave it be for now. After all,
Snape could always make more.

During the course of the entire year, Altair had not sent one single letter. The only mail received was his Christmas gifts,
which he loved with all his heart. He couldn't wait to see Altair again, and then he'd confront the man about Severus. The
man really did know how to hide what was important to him.

.oOo.
"Tracey," Draco asked, "Want to play a game?"

"What kind of game?" Tracey questioned, as Daphne's interest caught. Pansy had drifted away from Draco in the
subsequent months, and had taken to chatting meanly to Bullstrode.

"Wizard's Chess." Draco declared. "Hasan will play the winner." He gestured to Hasan to his left, who was currently
reading the Two Towers for the umpteenth time.

"Oh, alright," Tracey said, sitting on the green velvet chair across from Draco's.

"I bet Draco's going to beat you again." Daphne teased. "Hey Hasan, who do you think will win?"

Hasan's eyes rose curiously from the pages of his book to stare innocently at the two players. Tracey was always
cautious, but very smart. Draco was confident, and very sly. "I think Tracey will give Draco a run for his money." Hasan
observed. "You each have your strengths and weaknesses. So it all depends on your ability to respond off of one
another."

"Oh! Well said, Hasan!" Daphne gushed as Tracey made the first move.

"What do you mean?" Draco drawled, "He's always well spoken!"

"Yes, I suppose you're right, Draco... Hey, how's the Boy-Who-Lived? Haven't seen Neville in the library in a while."
Daphne said.

"He's good as ever." Draco muttered, moving one of his pawns.

"I think he's just as happy for the summer hols as the rest of us!" Hasan interjected.

"Probably, but he may have to train too," Tracey said thoughtfully. "I'd hate to be him."

Yeah, you and me both. Hasan sighed inwardly.

"I still don't understand." Daphne muttered. "They've always said it was Harry Potter who defeated the Dark Lord. But now,
Harry Potter is nowhere to be found and they say Neville's the one. Sounds like a farce to me."

"You may be right, Daphne," Tracey agreed softly, blocking Draco with her pawn. "Neville's levelheaded, but certainly not
savior material. I wonder where they're hiding Harry Potter. Maybe he's even hiding from them."

During the length of this conversation, Hasan's heart began to beat rapidly. Damn Slytherins and their too intelligent
minds!

He zoned out for a bit, thinking of his own Animagus form. Once he downed that potion, what would happen? Would he
be large or small? Beautiful or plain? Ugly as all hell? Hasan found that it didn't matter as long as it was him. He was a
little concerned about changing back though. Just recently, Hasan had managed to reverse the Glamor and Notice-Me-
Not spell woven around him. It was truly terrifying to think he was stuck in Hasan's body, not that he didn't like it- he loved
it. But those eyes. He loved those emerald eyes.

Would it be terrible if he said he wished to see emerald everywhere?

Hence his secrecy. After curfew, Hasan would cast multiple silencing charms around his room and bed, then practice the
reversal in a large circular mirror he conjured. Raven liked to sit in on most of these training sessions, and Hasan felt a
lot less empty without her.

The previous night, Hasan had imagined brilliant emerald before the wall colors glowed vibrantly. He had to switch it
back of course, because it really didn't reflect prettily on his skin, but he tried it with some of his black shirts and dress
robes, and he found a vast improvement in his wardrobe. It was a wonder he hadn't tried this before! He did find it
strange that the wand responded to his thoughts rather than to a spoken spell, but he figured he'd ask Professor Snape
about unspoken spells later. Altair, while skilled, didn't appreciate silent casting, but Hasan wasn't ignorant enough to go
running to any of he other teachers. They would surely tell Dumbledore and he would no doubt want to keep an eye on
him. Horrifying!

So Hasan remained silent on the account of his identity, his appearance, his silent castings, the Animagus project, the
mirror, and the stone. Who knew Hogwarts could've been so fun?

"Hasan? Want to play Tracey?" Draco asked, nudging him a bit.

"Yes, pourquoi pas?" Hasan smiled, taking Draco's place.

"I'm warning you, I'm not going easy, Hasan. Even if you are a French boy." Tracey winked.

"I wouldn't imagine it any other way." Hasan returned.

The game was rather mundane at first. Tracey moved, Hasan moved, Tracey moved, Hasan moved...but then it began to
look much a mess of strings. They had been at it so long that many of their housemates had come over to become
spectators. Tracey herself was gaping.

"Hasan, I never knew you could play!" she exclaimed, seeing the mess too. Hasan nodded. The board was, as clear as
day, a fancy game of dominoes. The possibilities had dwindled down, and some quick thinking brought the possible
paths down to twenty. Tracey pursed her lips as she decided what to do, but Hasan remained as blank and calm as ever.

There were whispers as Tracey took his castle with her knight, and then Hasan brought his Queen to take her bishop.
His King was in the open, but so wedge between the players that he was practically untouchable.

A few moves later, and Hasan descended his Knight to kill her Queen. Then there was only Tracey's King and a few
others, but the King was what everyone focussed on. She had three moves to get out of there. Tracey, Hasan, Tracey,
Hasan, Tracey. Yes! But then Hasan slid his King into the slot, and Tracey was most thoroughly trapped. She couldn't
move back the way she came because Hasan's pieces had basically followed her. She couldn't move her piece at all!
Her hand hovered over her last pawn, and it inched forward most pathetically. Hasan moved one his pieces forward.

"Checkmate, mademoiselle." Hasan smiled as her face dropped. "A truly lovely game." They shook hands over the
clapping and gossip of the crowd, and Hasan quickly excused himself to go to bed. Exams were coming after all.
Another game like that would take them to two in the morning...

.oOo.

It was right after exams that it happened. Hasan, Hermione, Draco, and Neville were pouring out of the castle with the
rest of the school. Tracey and Daphne were still obligated to unite with Pansy, which was a shame really. Perhaps next
year they would manage to break free? Hasan shook his head with a silent laugh. They were probably better protected
as a unit. Why risk their Slytherin status to hang out with the Boy-Who-Lived, and the two odd Slytherins that didn't need to
worry about association to save their hide?

"Hasan, what's wrong?" Draco asked worriedly, putting his hands on Hasan's shoulders. (It truly was a testament of their
friendship, seeing how far they had come since Hasan threatened to break his bones...) Neville and Hermione whipped
around to study the jade-eyed boy as well.

"Are you feeling alright, Hasan?" Hermione queried nervously. "Should I get Professor Snape for you? Or Professor
McGonagall? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?" Her voice got shriller as she fretted. Neville, wide-eyed beside her,
didn't look much better.

"It's..." Well, he could hardly say his scar was hurting, could he? It had happened after their DADA exam. Professor
Quirrell had looked up oh-so-innocently and had just happened to lock eyes with Hasan. There was no suspicion in his
gaze, but a tingling lingered in his mind, as if someone had decided to use Legilimency...but Hasan had natural
Occulomency shields. He wasn't sure if Quirrell was trying to read his mind, to be perfectly truthful. But then, why did he
have this prickling? Ow! What in Salazar's name-! It actually hurt! It was the oddest sensation: the rest of his body, even
his head was fine, except for that one lightning bolt scar...

"Hasan?" Neville asked nervously.

"I-I think Quirrell is planning on fetching the stone today." Hasan quietly hissed.

"Wait, how do you know?" Hermione wondered sharply. "Did he say something unusual?"

"No, but...I've just got a bad feeling about this." Hasan felt breathing behind him and turned around nonchalantly as
Severus Snape descended from the shadows. He seemed mildly surprised that Hasan was facing him while the other
four just gaped in surprise. It was most unbecoming of a Malfoy.

"What would four children be doing in the entrance on a day like this?" Snape sneered, his glittered obsidian eyes boring
into Hermione and Neville.

"W-well, we were just-" Hermione started, but was cut off from a sharp glare from Hasan. Snape raised a delicate
eyebrow and looked to Hasan instead.
"I suggest you don't try to lie, Mr. Castell." Snape threatened icily. Hasan was again reminded why more than half the
school loathed this man, but he couldn't bring himself to feel either way.

"My head hurts." Hasan said simply. "My friends were concerned."

"Indeed."

His gaze swept across the forms and the Gryffindors, but Draco stood his ground.

"Sir, isn't there a potion or something..."

"I believe my time is rather occupied with other potions at the present moment." Snape said cryptically. "One of which
should be complete within the week, and will be sent with the others." His gaze lingered on Hasan, though it was Draco
who revealed the true weight of his words.

"Thank you, sir." Draco said, only using sir as a formality, since he called him Sev in private.

Hermione and Neville were gaping, but tried to appear as if they were not interested. So what if the Slytherins had formed
a bond with their head of house?

"I suggest frolicking with your classmates." Snape spat, "Someone might think it odd for four children to be hanging
around the entrance..."

Hasan nodded.

"We were just about to go."

Seemingly satisfied, the Potions Master swept from their presence, black cloak following menacingly behind him.
Hermione opened her mouth to ask what had just gone on, but Hasan easily distracted them with an 'ow!' and a few
words related to the stone.

"We'll go at ten, when everyone's asleep." Hasan said.

"I'll bring the cloak." Neville volunteered. "I think we'll all fit under it."

"Hasan, are you absolutely sure? What if were caught? Or expelled!" Hermione whispered furiously.

"Then I will personally introduce you into Beauxbatons," Hasan said unconcerned. "You'd fit right in, all the girls are
gorgeous and intelligent." Hasan actually had little proof of this, but it seemed to soothe Hermione and her ego just a bit.

"We'll meet you outside the library again?" Draco wondered. Neville nodded to Hermione's horrification.

"You did this before!" Hermione flipped.

"Ne t'en fais pas, Hermione," Hasan smiled. "It may take four of us, but we can defeat that fraud of a DADA professor.
Trust me."

Hermione melted.

.oOo.

At ten thirty, the four ventured into the third floor corridor and reached the locked room in a timely fashion. Hasan
remembered the locked rooms at the Leaky Cauldron and touched the knob with the intention of opening it. He felt his
magic extend down his fingertips before the door clicked open and Hasan led them in. The others thought nothing of it,
for their attention as soon occupied by a giant three-headed dog. And they thought the troll was bad.

"Lumos!" Draco murmured, and the entire room came into clarity. The beast was slightly more terrifying than before, with
drool dripping down its enumerable pointy fangs, and claws many inches long, but another discover stifled their worries.
The dog was asleep, laying on its side, beside the trapdoor. A harp was playing next to utter silence by the dog's long
floppy ears, but each not strung kept the dog at bay.

"Well that's ironic." Hermione said. "Music to soothe the savage beast!"

Within minutes, the four were down the chute, and had quickly overcome the Devil's Snare with Neville's plant expertise.
The broom challenge they left to Draco, who was more than eager to oblige, doing all sorts of fancy twists and turns.
"Catch it, Draco!"

"To your left, right! Up!"

Hasan was staring at the up-and-coming quidditch player with little more than faint interest.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Hasan sighed after what felt like eternity. (It had only been seven minutes). Hasan grabbed a
broom and kicked off, hardly hearing the Gryffindor's frantic shouts below.

"Hasan! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Get down! Draco can do it!"

Instead, Hasan was focused on the little winged key that Draco was most definitely failing at catching. Draco's head was
hurting about now, from all the rapid movement and getting hit in the head by all the other metal keys. It was a minute
before Draco noticed his fellow flyer.

"Hasan?" Draco queried in awe. Hasan coked an eyebrow at him, a rather cheeky move for someone who didn't show
much emotion.

"I'd like to be over before Snape gets suspicious, Draco." Hasan said simply. "It's been seven minutes..."

Draco made a face at that, but Hasan chose wisely to ignore it.

"Give me a second." Hasan said, before diving at the irritating little object. The key flitted about mockingly, zipping and
zooming from one end of the room to another. Hasan, who had not been on a broom in ages (because Madam Hooch
absolutely refused to teach the accident prone firsties), was marveling at the ease at which he was able to now. Hasan
was lean, light, and very fast, with keen eyes and a sharp mind. He was the ideal seeker, if only Hasan showed some
interest in the sport.

It stemmed from some psychological disorder where he always wanted to be sure. He needed clarity, intent, and above
all control. He didn't like changes to his schedules, though he was rather flexible for all it irritated him. It wasn't that he
was an utter bastard about it, just that if he was studying for Herbology, he really didn't want to have to switch gears to
study for something else because of some random pop test- he wanted to finish what he started. He knew that he'd get it
all done anyway.

Right now, Hasan felt remarkably in control. Brooms were never his favorite thing because his feet were off the ground,
and one strong breeze could practically cripple him for life. That being said, Hasan was actually enjoying the look of pure
surprise on Draco's face. Within seconds, he had pinned the little key down in his fist, its wings fluttered rapidly and
angrily as he gripped it harder.

"Well done!' Draco clapped as he alighted off his broom. "I didn't know you could fly!"

"Wow, Hasan!" Hermione cheered. Neville nodded in absolute awe.

"Let us continue, mes amies." Hasan said briskly, sliding the key into the slot, and entering into the next realm.

Before them was a giant chess set, reminiscent of Hasan's game with the Slytherins.

"Should've brought Ron," Neville was mumbling, "He beats me every time."

Draco tried hard not to laugh, as Neville would probably lose to Crabbe and Goyle together, if given the chance.

"Don't worry, Hermione. Hasan's quite capable, aren't you, Hasan?"

Hasan let a smile seep onto his face, infused with a certain amount of mischievous as he directed his friends. The
entire game reminded him of Professor McGonagall for some odd reason. Probably because she realized how
important every single move was to make, and not to strike out at the wrong time. Minerva knew patience, but also knew
how to play one in a while. It described her perfectly. And though Hasan wasn't too much of an emotion person himself,
he fancied himself a good reader of others.

"Checkmate!" Neville roared as he slashed the opponent's Queen. The stone pieces bowed and let the children pass
onto the next chamber. Hasan found himself bringing up the rear.

The next chamber was rather a letdown, for the murdered troll was just that- already murdered. It still wreaked to high
heaven though, and Hermione had to cast a quick air freshening charm on them all. Neville shuddered as he walked
past but Draco smirked at it triumphantly, as if he had defeated the troll. Hasan ignored them both.

Upon entering the following chamber, through dramatic purple flames, Hasan noticed that it contained but a single table
with exactly seven potion bottles and a piece of parchment. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had created this
barrier.

"Sev!" Draco groaned after he had read the clues aloud. "How in Salazar's name are we ever going to get through this?"
He brought his hand up dramatically as Hermione snatched the paper from him.

"It's simple logic, Draco." Hermione informed him in her presentation voice. "Many witches and wizards don't have an
ounce of logic in them, and would be stuck her for eternity."

Neville let out a whimper. He wouldn't out it past the greasy bastard to trap the Boy-Who-Lived and his fellow Gryffindor in
here forever! (He momentarily forgot that Hasan and Draco were Slytherins.)

"Oh, I've got it!" Hermione screamed victoriously, "The smallest one will send us forward through the black flames, but
the rounded one on the right should send us back through the purple flames."

"A-are you sure it's not poison?" Neville asked nervously, looking pleadingly at Hermione.

"No, I'm positive," Hermione said matter of factly.

Draco was gobsmacked. He looked to Hasan who was smiling smugly. Yes, this was why he had befriended this witch
back on the train. Merlin knew he could do it with the right focus, but time was of the essence! Suppose Snape found
them out of bed? He'd skin them!

"Im-impressive, Hermione." Draco said stiffly. He winced as if it was a blow to his pride, but Hermione beamed and
actually hugged him.

"It appears as if there's only enough potion forward for two..." Hermione said sadly.

"I-I'll go." Neville stuttered. "I'm the B-boy-Who-Lived." He seemed to drown in guilt as he said it, but Hasan was sure he
was plotting Dumbledore's awful demise.

Draco seemed wary as he glanced at the flames.

"Hasan?" he asked. "I don't want to just leave you but..."

"It will be fine, Draco." Hasan smiled lightly. "Now Hermione, Draco. If we don't emerge in ten minutes I want you to run
and get Professor Snape."

"Why not the Headmaster, Hasan?" Hermione enquired.

"Snape." Hasan repeated. "And if he's not here, be sure to get him here."

Hermione's lip trembled, but she held her head high.

"Be safe." Draco murmured.

Hermione took the first sip, quickly followed by Draco. When they had disappeared through the flames, Hasan turned to
Neville.

"You can do this, Neville." Hasan said. He wasn't the encouraging type, but he felt as if anything would be god right now.

"I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore expects me to do these things..." Neville was mumbling to himself. "I can do it. I can
do it..."

"Of course you can, Neville." Hasan whispered. "Just take a sip. I'll be right behind you."

.oOo.

"Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived." a disgustingly hoarse voice floated out to the flames and the shadows where
Neville was trembling.

"Y-yes." Neville shouted (stupidly, Hasan thought).

Hasan emerged past the flames just as Neville began to shake violently. Oh, sweet Merlin!

"You can do this, Neville." Hasan whispered, placing a hand on Neville's shoulder. Neville gripped his wand tighter, as he
nodded tersely. The two returned their attention forward and Hasan would have gasped if he had not been so unaware.

Right before them, below the short circular stairs, was the mirror of Erised, rising grandiloquently in the otherwise empty
chamber. An amethyst turban was unwrapped on the ground, and a man, not Quirrell was facing the mirror, so that
Hasan could see the mutilated reflection. Quirrell's actual face was facing them, however, but he seemed dismayed,
nervous almost. When he spoke, it was not his mouth that was moving, but the one in the reflection.

Neville stifled a keen.

"And who iss thiss you have brought, Neville Longbottom? A friend? An ally perhaps?" the voice was teasing, but so
fatally sharp.

Neville took a step forward, into the light, facing the DADA professor head on. It was rather surreal, seeing as how Neville
had just taken an exam with the man mere hours before...

"A friend!" Neville shouted firmly.

"Ah, a friend." the voice purred he brought Quirrell's hand up to the mirror, and Quirrell winced in pain as his hand was
twisted at an unnatural angle. With a snap of the same hand, robes sprung up around Hasan and Neville's body, Neville
falling to the floor with a muffled shout and a crash, Hasan landing gracefully with a soft thud. How predictable, Hasan
murmured inwardly, how did Neville not see that one coming? At least Hasan had had time to cast a quick silent
cushioning charm... "What has the fool, Dumbledore done! I can see myself getting the stone! But nothing more! Where
is it hidden!"

"M-master, if I may," Quirrell pleaded.

"You can't do anything." the voice shrieked, then chuckled as if catching on to a joke, "I sssee...use the boy. Bring him
here, Quirrell. Have him stand in front of the mirror and tell me what he sees."

A snap of fingers later, and Neville was on his shaking feet, completely untied, but with Quirrell's creepy hands on his
back. Not that Neville would have done anything anyway. He was just petrified with fright.

"I-I see my-" Gran, no! He couldn't say Gran! What if they targeted her? But then, the image dissolved away to be replaced
with him, and the stone in his hand, now slipping into his pocket...! He felt it now, against his leg. The stone! What was
he going to do? Ah! Panic! "-self winning the House Cup."

"Er," Quirrell said.

"You idiot! He's lying!" the voice spat.

The ugly, demented face of what Hasan assumed to be Voldemort (because there weren't many pictures of the wizard in
this...unusual state) faced Hasan, but looked on blankly, as if focusing on what was through Quirrell's eyes. He probably
was, Hasan realized, and began to gather his magic...

"Turn around and let me face him!" Voldemort demanded. Quirrell did so hurriedly before the order was fully out. "What
do you see, Longbottom? I know it's in your pocket."

Neville froze, not even attempting to feint. "Yes, Lord Voldemort knows all." he hissed and sent a crucio to Neville, who
instantaneously threw the stone to Hasan...

Hasan was not enjoying the show. It was rather one sided, no pun intended, and the dialogue was a bit too dry. He had
managed so far to undo his bindings, but left them on for show. But as the stone swiveled in the air, Neville falling to the
floor unconscious, Hasan lunged in combination with a summoning charm (which predictably didn't work), and
amazingly caught the tiny object! His bonds fell free as he leapt, and he straightened himself before turning to face the
Dark Lord.

"I was wondering if I would see you today, Mr. Castell." Voldemort hissed. "I haven't heard that name in a while. You must
be the last in the line. After I killed your father."

Hasan was cursing Altair right now for not giving him more background information. But Voldemort was practically
feeding it to him off a stick! The bastard thought Altair was dead!
"Or perhaps not...Harry Potter." Voldemort growled. Quirrell gasped in surprised on the other side of him.

"H-h-harry P-potter!" This time, his stutter was not forced.

"Did Dumbledore really think, I, the great Dark Lord would not be able to remember who ripped me from my b ody?"
Voldemort cried in outrage. "Or that your silly disguise would hide you from me? I can feel it, your aura, calling out to me.
We're connected, always."

"How?" Hasan asked, leaving the question purposefully open-ended. How did he sense it? How were they connected?

"How?" Voldemort repeated. "I could ask you the same thing. How was it-" he advanced slowly, "-that a baby with no
magical talent has defeated me? The greatest wizard of all time?"

"You're not." Hasan protested.

"Not what?"

"The greatest wizard...Gandalf is."

The Dark Lord actually looked surprised. What the hell? As his red pupils narrowed, he saw that beneath that empty
exterior of Hasan Castell that the boy was actually mocking him! Him! Lord Voldemort!

"The stone, Harry Potter. Give me the stone and I won't kill Dumbledore's precious golden boy." Voldemort took a step
back and pointed his wand slowly (melodramatically) at the unconscious form of Neville Longbottom.

"Go ahead." Hasan whispered. "Go ahead, you still won't win, Tom." (He vaguely remembered Altair mentioning his
name prior that year.) "A death won't make me give you what you seek."

Voldemort was clearly enraged, at the name or the taunt, yet he forced a terrible laugh out of his ghastly lips.

"You would've made an excellent Death Eater." he continued, now only three feet away from the boy. "Avada-"

"I'll destroy the stone." Hasan spoke up lightly. "I'll destroy the stone and you'll be left crippled, feeding off unicorn blood
and Quirrell for all of eternity."

This gave the Dark Lord pause. "We could be great you know. Your secret, hidden forever..." He attempted to tempt the
boy, be that forbidden fruit dangling just out of reach. Amazingly, what had worked on almost every wizard he had come
across did nothing to faze Hasan Castell.

"Why did you kill my parents?" Hasan asked suddenly.

"They were fools to oppose me!" Voldemort leered, his face nearly inches from Hasan's own. He did not care that the
question was entirely off topic, but that he could now go ahead and kill the boy, "and now, Harry Potter, you will join them."

A hand made a mad grab for the stone as Voldemort raised his wand, and as skilled as Hasan was, Voldemort was just
too fast. His nails clawed at Hasan's fist, but then they were yanked suddenly back. Hasan blinked in surprise, watching
as bright red blisters blossomed angrily on his sallow flesh, and Hasan smirked. Oh, this was lovely!

He lunged for the monster's face, the stone slipping out of his hand as his palms clawed desperately at the eyes and
mouth.

"Grab him! Grab him! Get the stone!" Voldemort shrieked, but every time Quirrell's body would get up or raise a wand,
Hasan was there, somehow burning off his skin.

"Master, I c-cannot hold him!" the professor yelped as the two bodies became entangled in a violent somersault.

"You don't need to." Hasan murmured, and felt a fleeting surge of power. With one last exhausted effort, Hasan grabbed
the man's neck and dug his nails in, even as his world was blacking out around him.

But he thought, just as he was entering that realm of imagination, that he heard an agonizing screech, and saw black
mist rise up and clear away, leaving the faintest image of obsidian eyes...

Thanks to:

Nagilover4ever, InkWave, duskrider, evil genus, Mal72000, Cherrie-san(guest), Flying Chrissy, delenda est c,
vicky(guest), tumshie, Kairan1979, yotje1988, Have a Little Feith, talesfanjmf, Aspie Mom(guest), ibterismith50,
KoreanMusicFan, T. H. Enesley, medward, jamnaz79, Orange3WhiteSkew, blackangel365, The Dark One Rising,
Shikaku Zetsumei, and Post U Later

for being super readers and reviewing!

A/N- Obsidian eyes? Now who could that be? I hoped you liked the mirror. Isn't it fitting that Hasan's deepest desire
is to see emerald? I also enjoyed writing Snape again, he'll show up later, I promise! As for the Chamber of the
Stone, I was excited for Voldemort's debut. Tell me what you think and as always

PLEASE REVIEW! (thanks, and Happy Thanksgiving, because I won't be updating until December)

TBC...
*Chapter 9*: End of Book 1
A/N- I MADE IT. The Audition I mentioned. It's nothing short of a miracle! So, in light of this wonderfulness, I've decided
to post this chapter one week early! This is officially the end of Book 1, and the first part of the summer. Also, I am
proud to say that my Beg-For-A-Beta compaign has ended thanks to greyhoundxx. Thank you!

So without further ado,

ENJOY

Return of Emerald

Chapter 9: End of Book 1

The headmaster had been called to the Ministry for some conference concerning the Boy-Who-Lived. It seemed the
Ministry was swamped with letters about Harry Potter: where he was, why he was, who he was.

Initially, Dumbledore had taken responsibility for the child and placed him under his Aunt and Uncle's care, but as soon
as his disappearance came to light, Albus had to let the Minister in on a little secret...the Daily Prophet was more than
happy to resume printing nonsense about the Boy-Who-Lived, whether it be Harry or Neville, and did so amiably, with
approximately 278 newspapers within the year on him! It seemed that the team (shaky alliance) of Fudge and
Dumbledore had hoodwinked the magical community, but not for long! Fudge couldn't possibly put up with this much
unrest in his Magical world! He demanded Albus do something, and quick, summoning the headmaster as soon as
possible- meaning right after the final exams.

Consequently, that left Minerva and Severus in charge of the school. The two teachers were currently locked in their
respective offices, grading one of the millions of the exams. Severus had just ladened Raven with the two Muted Sights
potions, and was due back any minute so that he could give the tiny black owl the vial of Animagus Solution.

"The potion is stirred thrice to ensure the separation of substances, not to create a mixture!" Snape growled to himself
as he marked up yet another abysmal essay with a red pen. He did enjoy these muggle contraptions, especially when
they saved him time. This way, he didn't need to worry about dripping ink onto his precious students' words. Severus
continued to mutter the corrections to himself, as well as some dry insults, before a furious pounding began at his door.

What in Merlin's name? Who dared knock on the feared Potion Professor's door? Let alone that obnoxiously!

He flicked his wand and two of the least likely people he ever expected to see, stared back at him in clear distress.

"Draco-!" Severus shouted, knowing immediately that something was very wrong.

"Professor! It's Hasan and Neville! They said to get you if they didn't return in ten minutes! It's been fifteen!..." Hermione
continued to rattle frantically on as Draco pleaded with his godfather to come.

Suddenly everything clicked into place: Hasan and those three had gone after the stone. Something must have
happened, Quirrell must have made his move! He flicked the essays protected from theft and altercation before urging
the two children out and running past them to the third floor corridor.

Oh shit! He couldn't be late! Dumbledore would kill him if something happened to his golden farce! That was...if Snape
didn't kill him first for conveniently being out of the building!

Hermione and Draco let him continue forward as they slumped against opposite walls and slowly began to fall asleep...

Severus was panting. Fluffy, plant, keys, chess, troll, potions, well damn. He summoned the potion from within his robe
(he always wanted to be prepared) and downed it quickly as his blood turned to ice. He felt the flames lick around him
harmlessly, as he ran through to the chamber. Snape had known the mirror was going to be used from the beginning.
He did admit to being ignorant of the rest of the staff's chambers and obstacles, though they were all predictable and
somewhat obvious to match, but Dumbledore had been particularly clear that the mirror of Erised would be in use. It was
quite another thing to find it here, highlighted in the chamber's darkness, with the most terrifying of scenes playing out
before him. Neville was on the ground, seemingly unconscious, as none other than Hasan Castell was clawing fiercely
at the neck of...Voldemort.

The Dark Lord screeched, awful and terrible, as a black fog was ripped from Quirrell's abused body. Quirrell lay
motionless on the ground as the black mist disappeared, moaning in agony with his hands covering his furiously
blistered face. Then suddenly, the man went very still, no longer to be able to exist without Voldemort. But Severus paid
this no attention.

He was captivated.

Brilliant emerald green eyes flashed sharply on Hasan's wary face. Not jade. Not blank. But beautiful, beautiful emerald.
Like Lily's eyes, and yet so different. They locked onto him, triumphant, beaming, heartbroken, embarrassed, proud,
thankful, angry, disbelief, joy, relief,...and then they were shut. His eyelashes fluttered delicately on alabaster skin as his
body shut down from magical strain. Severus was quick to cast a cushioning charm as his head hit the floor, and then
conjured two stretchers for both boys. He levitated Neville onto his, but scooped Hasan into his arms, wondering 'How.'

How was it that for just one moment, a trick of the light perhaps, those dead eyes had sparked with more emotions that
Snape thought possible? How was it that they were the exact shade as the killing curse?

Why had he seen them? Had he seen them?

Severus levitated the stretchers to follow behind him as he ascended the chamber steps. He passed out the way he
came, and gently roused Draco and Miss Granger to follow him to the Infirmary.

They had been sleepy, but their excitement and agitation had returned once their eyes laid on the stretchers. Draco went
to Hasan first, an unfathomable expression on his face, as Hermione likewise went to see her housemate.

The three walked in silence to Poppy's Hospital Wing, and the two boys remained as unconscious as ever.

At the wards alerting her that someone had just entered, Poppy got up tiredly, exited her office, and shouted, "What is- Oh
my! Severus, what in Merlin's name is going on?"

To be perfectly honest, Severus himself was unsure...

.oOo.

Albus had returned exactly three hours later, and then had remained in his office until he was alerted of the boys' return to
consciousness, which was three days later. He wasn't so concerned about Hasan as he was Neville, in fact, he didn't
even ask about the other's health progress. Yes, he knew Hasan Castell's name. How could he not when the boy had
been praised nonstop by McGonagall?

"Oh, Neville!" Albus cried, striding authoritatively into the hospital wing. He wore sweeping magenta robes and his long
grey beard was tied near the bottom with a pink ribbon. "I've been so worried about you! How did you know to go after
him? How are you feeling? Voldemort has fled a second time! How did you defeat him?"

Albus invited himself down in the white chair beside Neville's bed, peering proudly at his golden boy. Severus and
Minerva followed behind, consciously hiding their disgust behind their naturally stern features. Hermione and Neville had
already returned to their dormitories and had been in to check on the two unconscious boys earlier. Now however, they
were packing and trying to fend off curious students who had somehow heard that they were involved. Apparently the
ghosts and portraits had been busy spreading around the gossip, and by the third day nearly everyone knew that the
Voldemort-Quirrell hybrid had tried to steal the philosopher's stone.

Severus' lip curled up in dry amusement as he took in Neville's bewildered and uncomfortable appearance when he
tried to scoot away from the headmaster, but didn't have the courage to offend him. Severus tore his eyes away and
strode discreetly over to Hasan who appeared to be asleep, but Snape's practiced eye told him otherwise.

"I know you're awake." Severus murmured, looming ominously over the bed.

Hasan bit his lip, in an endearing way (Snape was reluctant to admit,) before cracking open his pale jade eyes.
Something in Snape's heart fell then. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but...surely not emerald. That would
have been ludicrous...

"Hello, Professor Snape." Hasan said presently, his mouth barely moving as the words floated.

"Hello, Hasan." Severus whispered. "I'd like to ask you a few questions." In actuality, Severus wanted to strangle the little
urchin and demand what the hell had spurred him to do something like that, but Albus was within earshot and would
most definitely not miss the manhandling of a student.

"Are you-?" Hasan asked lightly. Snape mentally tacked on a '-going to' to the sentence.
"Yes. What happened?" Severus demanded as gently as he could.

Hasan tilted his head, "I believe in quid pro quo...could you be a bit more specific?"

Severus fought hard not to bang his head against a nearby wall. He could very easily demand that the miserable boy
answer him because he was his teacher, but Severus was a Slytherin and knew that the best answers came from willing
(or drugged) interrogation subjects.

"Alright, Mr. Castell." Severus sighed heavily, "What would you like to know?"

"Is that your question?" Hasan wondered.

Oh, Salazar! Severus moaned inwardly.

"No, my first question is: Who was really on the back of Quirrell's head?"

"Hm, well I suppose it doesn't matter anyway since my question and your question cancelled out..."

"What are you babbling about?" Snape asked sharply.

"Even numbers, Professor! Whether the first two questions counted or not shouldn't matter because it would have still
just been your turn."

"-Just answer the question!" Snape snapped.

"The Dark Lord." Hasan answered simply with a shrug.

Snape hesitated. (He didn't even register the use of His name because he was so worried about the confirmation.)

"Did he...talk to you?"

Snape knew that the Dark Lord was a seducer and worried genuinely for Hasan's young (and therefore impressionable)
mind. Men greater than him had fallen, and Snape knew firsthand how tempting the Dark Lord's offers could be. Yeah,
just a lifetime of pain and servitude...

"That's two questions. My turn!" Hasan protested with a slight smile. Severus sighed and nodded. "After we take the
Animagus Potion, is there anything else we need to do to complete the transformation?"

Did the boy not know how to stay on topic?

"Practice. And make sure you take them in a large and open space." Severus instructed seriously. "How did you receive
the stone?"

"Neville threw it." Severus arched an eyebrow, and Hasan smiled sheepishly, "I am unsure...but I believe that the mirror
gave Neville the stone. He was fidgeting violently but something in the mirror made him freeze. The Dark Lord lunged at
him...I caught it."

Hm, that was fascinating. Not the stone so much- he knew it must have been either one of the boys- but that a simple
physical indication made the Castell heir elaborate. Hm, he'd have to try it again!

Hasan cleared his throat. "Is the Dark Lord back?"

Snape twisted his lips, "Yes."

"Oh." Poor Neville...well, if they had to go through that a few more times it wouldn't be so bad. Just...unbearably
troublesome.

"Indeed. Who is your mother?"

Hasan blinked at the curveball. Severus smirked: he wasn't the only one that could stray off topic.

Hasan frowned at his hands twisting in the infirmary sheets. Should he trust Professor Snape?...he thought quickly for a
second: if he said Lily Potter, then his identity would not be hard to find. Then again, if he said Lily Potter, he might think,
oh Merlin, that Altair and Lily (shudder)...he didn't know why the thought was so repulsive, but it just was. The last option
was to say he didn't know and that he was adopted...but would this give Snape the clues he needed to piece together
Harry Potter and Hasan Castell? The adoption? The orphanage? The disappearance?
"I am unsure...I am adopted." said Hasan slowly. Snape arched his eyebrow again, hoping for an elaboration, and
Hasan recognized how one could be manipulated by body language... But there really wasn't much else he could say!
"Altair didn't...have me." Hasan finished lamely. "But I am his...son."

"Why hesitate?" Snape prodded.

Hasan smiled softly. "Not your turn, Professor. What do you see in the mirror of Erised?"

Severus' breath hitched in his throat.

"I've got all the information I need." Hasan smiled with a tilt of his head.

Oh, so that's how he wanted to play. This was Hasan's way of warning 'too close,' that he could very well back out now if
Severus didn't tread very softly.

"Very well, Mr. Castell...Hasan." Severus whispered as he got up. "Make sure you do not forget Raven."

Hasan beamed with an eager nod, and the two simultaneously turned their attention to Neville.

"-foolish! Are you alright?" Minerva was fretting over the bed.

"Yes, Professor." Neville said uneasily, glancing over at the many gifts left at his bed with a look of disgust and horror.

"Well good." Minerva locked Albus in a stern gaze. "I hope this doesn't become a regular occurrence."

With that, she glanced at Snape, and the two departed. Albus winked at Neville, gave a cursory wave to Hasan and exited
the room.

"Hasan?" Neville wondered aloud when the footsteps had ebbed away. "Did you see the Daily Prophet yet?" (Hasan
shook his head.) "We're in deep trouble," Neville groaned, holding up the paper. "Dumbledore released part of the
prophecy and..., well, I'll just read it: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, b orn to those who
have thrice defied him, b orn as the seventh month dies. We don't need hope, we need Harry Potter! It's him the
prophecy's referring to!" Neville said in a panic. He ripped the newspaper down the middle and started brushing back his
hair.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Hasan said apathetically, though he was already thinking of the prophecy and where he could hear the
rest.

Neville sighed. "Dumbledore also sent the invisibility cloak; he told me...It belonged to James Potter. I feel disgusting! L-
like I stole! Harry doesn't have anything from his parents and here I am-!" Neville choked weakly.

"Neville, listen to me. Maybe Harry doesn't want the cloak because he doesn't remember his parents. I wouldn't waste
emotion over it."

There was a long pause before Neville said,-

"I envy you, Hasan."

.oOo.

The students had piled into the Hogwarts Express with their familiars, trunks, and homework. Hermione, Neville, Ron,
and Lavender made up one compartment, while Hasan, Draco, Tracey, Daphne, and Theo made up the other. Neville
had no problem, however, flitting from one to the other under the pretense of bathroom breaks. Despite being
unconscious nearly days before, Neville and his Gran has somehow managed to whip up a birthday party for the end of
July. Neville ran around telling his friends all the details, and promised to owl people later with invitations and portkeys if
needed. All of the Weasley's still in school, including Ginevra (Ron's little sister), were invited, as was some other friend
of Neville's that was yet to come to school. Even some of the Slytherins were invited such as Theo and Tracey, so that
Draco wouldn't be too bored. Really, Neville's Gran just wanted to forge connections. Her grandson was the Boy-Who-
Lived! She was just so proud!

The train groaned to a slow stop at King's Cross Station at approximately two in the afternoon. Hasan's wizard's robes
had again reverted to his usual black, gray, and white attire, with his brunette hair in a Dutch crown braid falling elegantly
down his back. Daphne had simply raved about his hair for a good ten minutes, and Tracey attended to Draco's own ego
by making comments about his grey eyes.
Hasan and Draco hopped off the train together, and were immediately greeted by a beautiful blonde-haired witch. From
the front, Hasan could admire her regal visage, graceful sky blue eyes and thin pink lips that pulled back to reveal
stunning white teeth.

"Hello, mother!" Draco drawled sweetly as she scooped him up in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Dragon! I've heard such things through the Ministry! They say you and your companions saw the Dark Lord!"

"They're just rumors, mother!" Draco said trying to disentangle himself from her arms. Draco was actually not so sure
what had happened in the last and final chamber. Neville wouldn't speak and Hasan would only tell him that Quirrell was
an idiot. The rest of the school learned bits and pieces of the truth from the rumor mill, but at this point, Narcissa Malfoy
probably knew more than him.

"Oh, and who is this?" Narcissa's voice turned suddenly sharp as she caught sight of Hasan. Her keen eyes took in his
pleasantly blank face, dull jade eyes, and braided brunette hair and her expression melted. "Oh! You must be Mr.
Castell!" Narcissa gushed, releasing Draco to hug this other boy. Hasan stiffened into the hug, not entirely
understanding what was going on. He supposed it had something to do with the dagger he held in his sleeve, or
perhaps it was because her eyes had widened when she registered the name 'Castell'. Logically, this witch must have
known Altair if Lucius did, which meant she probably was startled at the lack of semblance between them (save for the
hair).

"Hello, Lady Malfoy." Hasan said, not sure if it would be offensive to choose Mrs. off the title rack. She was wizarding
nobility (despite the dissolution of the nobles) and it was better to be safe than sorry!

"Narcissa is fine dear." the woman told him kindly, pulling away to study his face intently. "You're as good as family now,
Hasan Castell. The dagger ties you to our family."

Well wouldn't that have been nice to place on the Christmas card! Draco's lack of detail really irritated him sometimes.
Looking over Narcissa's shoulder, Hasan could see Draco turning around, looking for the Malfoy patriarch.

"Mother, where's father?"

Her stance seemed to tighten as she righted herself and met Draco's silver eyes.

"He's a little unwell."

.oOo.

That was the understatement of the century. Lucius Malfoy was more than a 'little' unwell. Currently isolated in his private
chambers (he slept separately from Narcissa), he summoned Dobby to bring him some ginger snaps and apples thinly
sliced, and had them placed on his large and unbelievably cluttered desk.

"Master Lucius is wanting Dobby to be bringing him anything else, sir?" the house-elf squeaked, floppy ears hanging on
either side of his bowed head.

"No, leave me, dammit!" Lucius screamed, slamming his fist on the table. The cookies rattled on the plate and Dobby
vanished with an odd look on his face. He hadn't been punished, just yelled at like usual...this was so odd. Master must
really be sick...

Back in the bedchamber, Lucius was running his hands through his thin blonde hair, sighing out pitifully as he squeezed
his eyes shut. He snapped them back open a minute later, fierce silver scanning the mess of letters and documents in
front of him. His dragon hide boots slapped the cold marble floor sharply as he drew himself up in his chair. Letters...the
ones nearest to him were from Draco, and magical copies of the ones he sent himself over the course of the year. The
entire correspondence was written out in alternating red and black ink over a thick sheet of parchment, and the words
popped out at him now, clearly as if someone had hammered them into his brain. He picked it up and read aloud:

"...September 2nd: Father, he's weird. I don't understand why you want me to follow him. He's boring and is friends with
an awful mudblood!...but he got sorted into Slytherin...September 12th: I can't believe him! He nearly broke my shoulder! I
want him expelled, father!...October 31st: Wait till you hear this, Neville Longbottom's the Boy-Who-Lived! Have you heard
anything more ridicules? He was crying in the bathroom (again) and Hasan and that muggleborn Granger dragged me
along to save him...November 17th: He shows absolutely no emotion! It's like he's a doll or something! But he's not that
bad. He and the muggleborn study together- we make the top three of our year- and he's friends with most of the house.
He's got a vocabulary to rival Snape's...December 1st: He's alright. I think I'm beginning to understand why I'm following
him. He's always levelheaded and no one ever picks on him- but mostly because no one really notices him. Even
Dumbledore who's constantly watching Longbottom's movements...December 2nd: Hasan's a friend...December 3rd:
Hasan and Neville taught me to identify poisonous odors...December 4th: The Weasley kid's a git. I hope he gets
expelled. I don't know why I put up with him, but sometimes he's with Hasan because of Hermione...December 5th: I
want to get him something special for Christmas. I'm still spying, rest assured, but I want to find something unique...
(Many entries pertaining to the same topic later) December 20th: Please! I'll do anything! I'll beat Hermione in every
class, I promise! Just, I really want to have something of our own! He's practically a brother, why not make it
official?...December 21st: I'm not an ignoramus! I know it's not adoption, but I want him to belong
sentimentally...December 22nd: Please! Please! Please! I promise I won't get into any more detentions!...December
23rd: FATHER! ARE YOU GOING TO OR NOT?...December 24th: Father, I know this is a very mature decision and I'm only
eleven but if you could please reconsider? Hasan's my best friend, my first true one, and he's the model Slytherin! He
only speaks when needed and gives just the right words! Father! I swear he's worth it!...Thank you, father, I won't
disappoint."

Lucius rested his fingers on his temple and sighed. How was it that Hasan Castell managed to turn this entire mission
on him? One minute the prey, the next, family! It was worth it, he supposed, for Draco had stayed true to his word. But that
was hardly what was pressing so heavily on his mind.

What his true sickness was, the stem of all his issues, was himself. He magicked Draco's letters into a drawer, before
turning his attention on the next few. His marriage contract with Narcissa, Draco's birth certificate, his Hogwarts
diploma,...Tom Riddle's diary. Something wasn't adding up, something wasn't right! He graduated Hogwarts in 1972, he
married Narcissa in 1979, and she had given birth to Draco in 1980...what had happened in the in-between? Where
were those years of his life?

Daily Prophet clippings, newspaper articles. The rise of Lord Voldemort around the year 1946, so he must have been
within the ranks of Voldemort's followers then! So why was it, that from 1972 to 1979 Lucius could not recall a single
thing about the Death Eaters or Voldemort for seven whole elusive years? He glanced at the diary of Tom Riddle again,
and remembered clearly when the Dark Lord had gifted it to him a little over ten years ago, before his fall. But there was
also a niggling, a niggling of something he had forgotten that had to do with a man named Tom Riddle and a diary he
had crea-no- written. Why had he thought created? He flipped the journal open again, seeing nothing but blank pages-
Salazar! He hadn't even touched the diary in ten years!

So why was it now that he felt a need to revisit it? Revisit all of it? He had a lovely wife, and an intelligent son and heir.
Why disturb that? He was still in favor with the light, and in the favor of the dark, why disturb that? He had money! He had
everything!

So why?

A flash of thick brown hair, beautiful blue eyes...no! He winced and banged his desk again before ripping a gingersnap in
two. It was gone! It was all gone. He hadn't mentioned it to Narcissa-these, these flashes- because there was no need
to worry her. He trusted no one else but...he was growing desperate. Things couldn't continue on like this. It was a
perfect puzzle, and somehow, Hasan Castell, Draco's new friend was involved. Maybe not Hasan specifically, but...but
another. His grandfather? No, that didn't make sense. His father?

That man in Diagon Alley with snow white hair and easy going disposition even in a state of panic. Castell. Something
Castell. And he was sure of it, without a hint of a doubt, that this Castell was the one to erase his memories...

.oOo.

"Lucius?" Narcissa's sweet voice flitted into his chambers. "Lucius, darling?"

The Malfoy lord groaned and vanished the full plate of gingersnaps and apples with a wave of his wand.

"Father?" Draco's voice joined the mix, sounding suddenly so very mature. Gone was the whine of his little one, replaced
by the coolness of a Slytherin's tone. Lucius glanced at his work turbulently (lovingly and yet with such loathing) and
wrapped it up neatly with another wave of his wand.

"Coming, 'Cissa, Draco!" Lucius called as he descended the millions of stairs. As Draco came into view, he noticed a
hint of suspicion in his eyes and his gaze lingered on the bags beneath his father's eyes. There really was no use
disillusioning the symptom when the condition was palpable.

"Oh, Lucius..." Narcissa sighed and gave him a hug, "Your father's been very tired recently. It's just been so hard at the
Ministry getting information from anyone these days!"

Draco glanced warily up at his father. "I regret that you couldn't meet Hasan." he said evenly, in a way that imitated Hasan
and yet was all his own. "But the Boy-Who-Lived-to-get-all-the-credit is throwing a party next month at the Longbottom
Estate. I'm sure you could meet him then."

Lucius froze. He could meet him.

"The Weasley's will be there too." Draco sneered, disgust evident in his voice. "The one's in school anyway."

"The Weasley's?" Narcissa hissed sharply. She knew of the bitter hatred between the Weasley's and the Malfoy's and
wasn't so sure inviting Lucius to drop him off would be as conducive to his health as she had hoped.

"Oh, no matter, Narcissa." Lucius said, his usual drawl trickling back into his voice, "I'm sure it will be worth Draco's
while." His grey eyes glinted as he thought of the diary and the many Weasley's that might just stumble upon it. Narcissa
was too relieved to hear his normal self returning to pay much attention to Lucius' intentions.

Draco was just too absorbed in mentally bashing Dumbledore and his golden boy.

"Ah! It's a relief to have you back, Lucius. Now, why don't I set Dobby on dinner and Draco can tell us all about his new
friends at Hogwarts!"

.oOo.

Altair was waiting at King's Cross station under the new and improved disguise of an aging woman. Not as creative as
Snape, but the greasy man would just have to live with it. For the past few months, Altair's only connection to the
Wizarding World was through Snape's acidulous comments that accompanied every potion, and of course, the Daily
Prophet. Poor Raven was exhausted every time she arrived, and Altair would have to let her rest for a day or so before
sending the creature back. He had missed Hasan terribly and had often stayed awake with Tina at night, reminiscing his
own wonderful years at Hogwarts. But Altair Castell was used to being alone, and he was happy above all else that
Hasan would be alive, and safe and well...

"Urgh!" Altair groaned as another wave of pain hit the back of his head. Damn ability! He had purposely chosen to
postpone taking Snape's solution so that he could see Hasan's bright emerald aura once again. It really was a pretty
color, but ominous, so very very ominous that it was the exact shade of the Avada Kedavra...Still, the abundant magical
energy at the station pounding down on his brain would all be worth it once he reunited with his child!

Ah! There he was, pulsing green glow around him. His braid was in a fancy crown, and his black blazer was back on his
shoulders. But...there was a pulse of silver around it, like a protective ward... Something was definitely wrong. What had
happened at Hogwarts? He watched as Lucius junior led Hasan to lovely Narcissa, and watched in awe as Narcissa not
only embraced Draco, but his own son as well! The silver became stronger, not threatening, but comforting, joining the
silver auras of the Malfoy's to his. How unusual! Altair watched as the three exchanged pleasantries, before the Malfoy's
left, and a group of red heads, plus that Longbottom boy, and Hermione from Diagon Alley, bombarded Hasan with
parting hugs. Soon, these friends too had passed on, and Hasan was left standing by himself. Altair roused himself to
stand, and walked with more agility than a woman in their nineties would have (so much for his disguise). Hasan
noticed immediately and turned towards him with a broad, radiant smile.

"Hello, dad."

"Hello, Hasan." Altair said, and reached to grab his trunk, when a little head poked out of his sleeve.

:Greetingssss, little one.: Tina hissed happily.

"It's like she's talking to you!" Altair exclaimed humorously, before shrinking the trunk and placing it in his pocket.
"Imagine, a boy that can talk to snakes!"

Hasan smiled too. Yes, he could just imagine.

The two walked out of the station, down the road, and into a dirty little alleyway before Altair took down his disguise and
apparated them safely to the Estate.

"You should really work on your disguises more." Hasan laughed dryly as he stepped back into the manor. Ah! It just
smelled like home! He unlocked Raven's cage and the little bird hopped free, scuttering to where she knew the owl
treats were hidden.

"What? I can't pass as a woman? Thanks, Hasan." Altair grumbled, and flung Hasan's trunk into his room.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I'm really not." Hasan said. "Don't be offended. I like you as a man."
Altair chuckled deeply. "Yeah me too."

Over a dinner of coq au vin, Hasan quickly explained the questions Altair had gathered about the newspaper articles.
Was Neville really the Boy-Who-Lived? Why did they think it was Harry Potter? Where was Harry Potter? Who won the
house cup? Who were Hasan's friends?

They were all fairly easy to answer: Yes, Neville really was the Boy-Who-Lived, technically, he was a boy that lived, but
details, details, it wasn't exactly a descriptive epitaph. The second Hasan had no answer to, and as for the third, Hasan
answered 'hiding'. There was no way in hell he was going to volunteer himself up for Neville's job! Who won the house
cup? Slytherin, obviously, what with Neville and Ron losing points for Gryffindor every Potions' class, there was never
really any doubt. And then the last: friends.

"I've met a few people who I've grown close to." Hasan said, not elaborating on what close meant, or how close.

"Do go on!" Altair said eagerly.

"I've met Hermione first, the muggleborn witch. Then Neville the Boy-Who-Lived, as well as Draco Malfoy."

"Ah, so you have befriended young Draco." Altair sighed.

"Why? Was it that obvious? I certainly didn't know the pompous Slytherin would turn out pretty decent."

"But you knew from the start that you wanted to have him as a friend, someone who would trust you, non?" For someone
who was supposed to be dead and going into King's Cross disguised as an agile old lady, Altair certainly had his
moments.

"I really didn't know anything." Hasan said stubbornly. "And as far as being a complete ignoramus goes, how could you
not tell me that Professor Snape makes your potions?"

"Oh, he told you, did he?" Altair said. Hasan continued to glare. "Well, to be honest, I wanted you to make your own
opinions about him. Without me, you know? Snape is a many faceted being, just like all of us I'm sure, but life hasn't
been kind to him. I like him because he makes me headache relief potions, but suppose he didn't. Would I like him as
much then? Also, I didn't want to sway your sorting. Did you know that twenty percent of students request houses of the
sorting hat? Interesting, I know!..." Altair babbled.

Hasan stabbed some more mushrooms and chewed thoughtfully. He had like Professor Snape despite how he bullied
Neville in the beginning. More so even than Professor McGonagall who had actually helped him a lot in his
Transfiguration (and unknowingly Animagi) studies. It was good to know that Altair like the dour Potions Master too.

Altair was still talking about house statistics when he suddenly perked up.

"Hasan, I've got something to show you. You must have heard the blood prejudices firsthand, not only being friends with
that muggleborn, but also being surrounded by Slytherins."

This piqued Hasan's interest. Where was he going with this?

"You have proof that blood is really just a myth?" Hasan asked tonelessly.

"As a matter of fact," Altair said, summoning a small black book with a wave of his wand, "I do."

Well this was a first. Finally some proof to his father's usual gossip.

"What is it? Who wrote it? When was it written?"

Altair cleared the kitchen table off with another flick of his wand, and the tome fell softly on the mahogany.

"This is an independent study written in my second year out of Hogwarts." he blew the dust off the cover and opened it
reverently, careful not to so much as bend the thin parchment. "The data collected was based on a magical reservoir of
sorts that a single person could contain. People from all walks of life sent in samples of their blood, everyone from
students to Ministry officials to squibs, under the impression of medical research or other." Altair sighed contentedly as
he pointed to a chart. "It shows how purebloods, halfbloods, and muggleborns have the same amount of potential
power, their being's entire magical source. But their easy energy, the magic that flowed for everyday spells, had a
different flavoring if you will. The halfbloods and muggleborns had a type of magic that I can only describe as new. Now I
see it as red to yellow, depending on their genetics. If only I had had my power then. Ironic how these things come up,
yes?"
Hasan inched around the table to better see the study, and was startled to find that the entire book was
handwritten...Altair nodded proudly and ran his fingers down the yellowing parchment.

"Yes, it took one entire year to create. But as I was saying, purebloods are like dying flowers. They believe themselves to
be high and mighty, but their colors fade each generation. They start off black, a healthy rich black, but it soon flows to
dark gray, and the silver, and eventually white."

Hasan thought of Gandalf the Gray, and then Gandalf the White...it made sense, in a way. Perhaps Tolkien was a wizard
with Altair's condition?

"What color are the Malfoy's?" Hasan enquired softly.

"Grey, or silver if you prefer." Altair said in surprise. "And before you ask, Dumbledore's white, the Dark Lord' sanguine,
(the hypocritical bastard) and Snape's a lovely Gryffindor gold." Altair laughed.

Hasan nodded with a soft smile and flipped the book back to the smooth black cover. A.D.C & L.A.M were imprinted in
bold silver font.

"And me?" Hasan asked quietly, tracing the initials with his fingers. He could feel Altair's eyes following them, and Hasan
did not ask.

"And you, my son, are the most exquisite hue I've ever seen. But it's different now..."

"How?"

"It's, well it's got this silver mist around it. Not harmful, just, kind of there. I've never seen anything like it." Altair said
slowly.

"Oh," Hasan said, immediately making the connection. "And the rest of me?

"Emerald, of course." Altair raised his fingers and tilted Hasan's chin up just slightly. "And yet, your eyes are jade.
Imagine if your eyes were emerald...but pray tell. What happened at Hogwarts?"

Hasan bit his lip and slowly drew the knife out of his pocket. The emeralds glinted in the firelight, and the polished silver
gleamed. Hasan looked up with concern when his father had yet to say anything, but instead, Altair was stock still. A deer
in headlights, staring at the dagger.

"You didn't seem to mention how close you were to Draco." Altair finally whispered.

"We're just friends." Hasan said with a frown. "His mother said I'm part of their family now. What's wrong? Should I give it
back?"

Draco hadn't given him a cursed artifact, had he?

"No. It'll do you good. It's protective by nature." Altair said, but inside he was moaning in the fields of nostalgia. "Keep it
safe, Hasan. It's the last."

Hasan went to bed with Tina and Raven after a quick dessert of crêpes. But the dagger remained on the table, and Altair
stared at it a long time. Remembering something very far away.

Thanks to:

kffs, Pedobee, Theta-McBride, Nagilover4ever, Have a Little Feith, geetac, dragoon109, Vangran, Mel72000,
Kairain1979, Moi(guest), Nouriel(guest), yuiop, Mouichido13, snk(guest), imtoolazytologin(guest), Shaowsmage,
Yinko, Be Professional(guest), medward, The Dark One Rising, Guest, and Post U Later

for the awesome reviews!

A/N- Oooh! What's happening to Lucius? Will he begin to slowly go insane? Who's doing this to him?

I promise that Hasan's Animagus transformation will take place in two chapters. Got any predictions? I'd love to hear
them!

PLEASE REVIEW!
Here's an incentive idea I'm playing around with. How about, whoever it is that writes the 200th review gets to decide
something major? Like, for example, if Bellatrix is dark. If Voldemort returns to his handsome self. If Frank and Alice
die...or recover...Obviously I'll approach you through PM's 'cause that would just be a major spoiler, now wouldn't it?

Happy Holidays!
*Chapter 10*: Summer Hols
Author's Note:

Happy New Year's everyone! WOOHOO! 2014! This site is probably exploding with New Year stories and chapters, but I
wanted to post something anyway, for good luck, maybe? Thanks greyhoundxx for beta-ing this super early!

Fun fact: The 200th reviewer gets to decide a plot point.

Exciting, eh? Anyway, I also forgot to mention that this is Luna and Ginny's debut! Among many other interesting, plot
catapaulting things! Need I say it?

This chapter is wonderful! Thanks for everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story! I deeply appreciate
it!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 10: Summer Hols

July 30th, 1992

"Neville!" Augusta screamed from the second floor as she slipped on her golden hoop earrings, "Get the door! I see that
muggleborn friend of yours."

Neville, who was fretting nervously in the threshold immediately opened the door to the lovely summer air and waved
sheepishly at Hermione.

She grinned and waved the portkey and gift in her hand as she approached in a knee-length lilac dress. Always
punctual- it was only 2pm.

"Happy Birthday, Neville!" Hermione squealed, wrapping the boy in a politely loose hug. She proffered a rectangular
purple bag and Neville took it with a nod of thanks, wondering what was beneath all that tissue paper. "You look dapper!"
Hermione said, taking in the gray suit his Gran had forced to wear.

"Oh, thanks-"

"Is anyone else here?"

Neville smiled, "Er, no. But I wouldn't worry about it."

Suddenly, two more apparated onto the scene, landing in the field in the distance. The Longbottom Estate was fairly
large, with two stories of expansive floors and a sizable yard in every direction.

"Oh look! It's Theo and Tracey!" Hermione cried, shaking Neville from his reverie. Tracey advanced in kitten heels and a
soft blue blouse, with a black pleated skirt. But Hermione was already gazing at Theo. He had sprouted up over the
summer and now came an inch or two above Hermione. He caught her gaze and smiled, wearing a grey t-shirt with
black hemming and tan trousers. They each held a little bag which they promptly gave to Neville at the door.

"Neville, Happy Birthday." Tracey said formally, sticking her hand out. She didn't really know Neville that well, but knew that
Draco was supposed to come later.

"Yeah, Happy Birthday." Theo said, but then winked at Hermione. She wasn't sure what to do. Wink back? Pretend she
didn't see it? Her face did the talking for her by turning a lovely shade of tomato.

"So, um, welcome to my home, the Longbottom Estate." He led them into the threshold, a collection of antique paintings
lining the walls, and then forward into the living room. To the right there was the dining room, and then the kitchen was
beyond the dining room. The hall directly straight contained the staircase, as well as the loo, storage room, and
Augusta's office.

The floors were wide and polished dark oak wood, as were the walls. The taste in décor was very artful: controlled, yet
unique, with lots of grays, purples, golds, and reds.

"Very nice." Tracey said and peered into the kitchen where the knives were enchanted to chop some peaches,
cantaloupe, watermelon, and dirigible plum fruit.

"Thanks, Tracey." Neville said.

"Neville! The door!" Augusta's voice came again.

Neville looked sheepishly at his friend's and acquaintances' surprised faces and offered them to sit on the light purple
leather couches with a red wool blanket thrown over the top with golden thread woven within.

Theo and Tracey decided to sit together, and Hermione was left to stand awkwardly alone.

"Come on, Hermione." Theo said kindly, patting the seat beside him.

"Oh." Hermione hurried to the offered seat and then sat ramrod straight. Tracey chuckled and something told her that
these two Slytherins were safe at least.

Neville was happy to be away from his guests for a bit. Perhaps they could make friends? His face was burning up and
he wasn't sure why. He saw these kids everyday at school! Imagine, a simple thing as dressing up and arriving at one's
house, and sitting in one's living room could make a bloke nervous.

He sighed and opened the bright red door with a gold handle and protective panel at the bottom (for scuffing shoes). Far
out into the field he spotted not one, but a herd of red heads.

Fred and George Weasley led the proceedings with scarlet sparklers, dressed in stripped mahogany and orange
sweaters and jeans. Merlin! How was he supposed to tell them apart?

Behind them came Ron, wearing a white shirt with a red hem, and faded jeans that frayed at the bottom. He stared up at
the manor in awe, not even hiding the fact that he was gobsmacked. And even further...was the youngest Weasley,
whose large eyes fixed upon him with her mouth slightly hanging open. Ginevra donned a frilly pink blouse and a plain
gray skirt and large pink bow headband.

"Hey Neville!" Fred cried.

"Happy Birthday!" said George.

"See, we didn't-"

"Know what to get-"

"You, but hopefully-"

"With us three-"

"You'll find something-"

"That you can like-"

"Or love-"

They extinguished the sparklers as they made it to the doormat, and Ron peeked out between them.

"Happy Birthday, mate! Wow, is that your house? This is my little sister, Ginny." Ron said in a rush, still staring past
Neville and into the richly decorated foyer.

"Oh-!" Ginny gasped as if not realizing they were at the door already. "Um, or Ginevra if you like, really." Her cheeks began
to flame and the twins had to conceal their chuckles with a silencing charm.

"Gin-"

"Evra-!" They gasped.

"Oh, she's in it-"

"Good-!"

They cancelled the spell and Ron looked oddly between them. Ginny herself shot them a dirty look before stepping to the
front and shaking the boy's clammy hands.
"Hello, Neville. They tell me you're the Boy-Who-Lived." Ginny said sweetly. "But you can be yourself around me, you
know."

She handed him a handful of gifts that Neville had to cradle with both arms.

"Um, just go right ahead. Hermione, Tracey, and Theo are already here-"

Ginny swept past him leaving flowery perfume in her wake, and Fred and George chortled mercilessly.

"Don't mind her, Neville." Ron said, obviously not picking up what was really going on. "She's been talking about you
nonstop. You'd think she'd stop after Harry..."

"Yeah, Neville, if she gets out of hand-"

"Just leave her-"

"To us-!" Fred finished with a clap.

"Er, thanks guys. Just follow me, I guess." Neville dumped the presents on the crystal cut table and reentered the salon.

Hermione, Theo, and Tracey sat on the edge of one couch, while Ginny sat stubbornly on the other. The rest of the red
heads flocked to her, of course, and Neville sighed in relief when a (menial) conversation on quidditch ensued.

The fruit was cut and Neville set the platter out onto the glass topped coffee-table as Mrs. Augusta Longbottom
descended proudly down the stairs. A stuffed vulture lay on her black hat, and her favorite bright red robes (to match her
bright red handbag) were drawn about her with large golden buttons.

"Gran!" Neville cried as the guests turned to watch the thin and bony woman.

"Ah. Let me guess-" she said flatly, "-the Weasley's, the Slytherins, and the muggleborn."

"Gran!"

"Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of, girl." Neville's gran continued in that authoritative voice. "Just a fact. It's wonderful that
you can all be Neville's friends."

Her beady eyes that swept the room with distaste told differently. "Who are we missing?"

"Hasan, Draco, and-"

"Oh yes, and that blond child... Well how about we get those board games out while we wait?" Augusta said briskly,
summoning Exploding Snap, wizard chess, Gobstones, and then she hummed. "You could get the broomsticks too if
you want."

Ron's face lit up. "Really? I mean, er,..."

"Ronnikins-" George sang.

"Mind your manners!"

"Er, yeah, so should we wait for Hasan and Draco?" Neville asked the crowd.

"Well, I'm fine right where I am." Theo smirked, with a wink towards Hermione.

Tracey rolled her eyes, "Whatever is best for you, Birthday Boy."

"Er, right."

Ron deflated as the group began a large tournament of Exploding Snap. Neville had taken a seat next to Ginny, who was
rather adamant that Neville sit by her. Augusta was busy in the kitchen, fixing the cake and making sure the icing was just
right. She hardly knew any of Neville's new friends, but she did know that Dumbledore wanted him to invite the
Weasley's. Really, Augusta saw nothing wrong with the redheads, but thought it odd that Dumbledore had made such a
request. But Augusta was just so proud! Her Neville wasn't a squib! He was actually a celebrity! Harry Potter was still
hailed as the only one to survive the killing curse, but her Neville was the one the prophecy referred to! The Daily Prophet
said so and Dumbledore had even gotten the prophecy at the Ministry relabeled. Her son, Frank, and his wife, Alice,
would have been so happy right now!

She wiped a tear from her eye and beamed down at the photo of Frank, Alice, and Neville. She wanted nothing more than
to raise Neville to be the very best he could.

.oOo.

Draco sat on the couch, wearing a gray button-down shirt with black pants. He clutched Hasan's letter in one hand, and
Neville's invitation, gift, and portkey in the other. It was about time Hasan mentioned the potion! After school, Hasan had
received four doses of the Animagus potion, but Draco had admittedly not finished the preparation. To transform into
another being while keeping your mind was so mechanically complicated that Draco was thankful Hasan had been
there to help him. Plus, his godfather had visited a few times over the summer to assist him, before aiding his father on
some project or other. So it was on July 30th, that Draco was finally ready to receive his Christmas gift.

"Father!" Draco yelled for the umpteenth time. Honestly, what was the man doing up there? Picking clothes? Dressing?
Urgh! He was already ten minutes late! "Mother!"

"Give us a moment, Dragon!" Narcissa called from upstairs. A moment? He was late! Draco continued to brood over
fashion conscious fathers before the man finally deigned to gift him with his presence.

Lucius was dressed in his usual black cloak as he descended the stairs with Narcissa on his arm. Narcissa wore a
dark blue pea coat over a long gray dress, the couple together looking rather posh. And they were only the escort. Really?
Did it take that much time to throw that together? Draco thought with a huff.

"The portkey, Draco." Lucius demanded, holding out his hand. Draco leapt off the couch and the three touched the
activated portkey before whirling away to somewhere...

.oOo.

Hasan looked at the glass vials, wondering if Neville would find it as humorous as him that Professor Snape had
inadvertently gifted him with Animagus abilities...perhaps he'd just tell him later then so that Neville wouldn't spit it out or
anything.

Altair was out at the moment, doing some errands and trusting that Hasan could figure out how to work a portkey for
himself. Merlin knew how many Altair himself had used over the years.

It was 2:15 now, and Hasan figured what he was wearing was probably the best he was going to get. He was in a light
black jacket, over a white t-shirt and fitted gray jeans. As for his hair, he decided to just let it hang, as it was now to his
waist. He had pondered the Blood Book and the Malfoy daggers, but hadn't pressed Altair because it obviously meant
something very heavy for him. Hasan left both resting on the salon table, petted Tina good-bye and let Raven have some
treats, before activating the portkey with a flick of his wand. Within seconds, he was sucked through a tunnel and spit
back out again, landing gracefully on his feet. Longbottom Manor stood up in contrast with the lovely blue sky and Hasan
smiled at the golden balloons by the door.

Mrs. Longbottom appeared in the entrance almost immediately and nodded tersely in greeting. It seemed that either no
one was here (doubtful) or that Augusta had simply not alerted them of his presence. He continued to stride, taking his
time across the large expanse of green, before a thud indicated the arrivals of more guests behind him

Hasan turned slightly, not so much seeing Malfoy as hearing him. 'Ow! Could've warned me!' Hasan wasn't expecting the
entire family, and apparently neither was Augusta for she yelled so.

"I wasn't expecting you all to come." Her bright red wardrobe flashed brilliantly in the light as she whipped out her wand
protectively and then stowed it rather deliberately in her handbag.

The Malfoy family approached, Draco mumbling in the lead, Lucius staring stonily ahead, and Narcissa smiling sweetly
at all the world.

"Hello, Augusta. A pleasure." Narcissa said shortly, with that same saccharine grin. She held out her hand which
Augusta shook harshly before turning to Hasan. "Good afternoon, Hasan."

Hasan stared back at her blankly before bowing in proper pureblood fashion.

"Hello."

Draco had stopped his complaints by now and grinned at the emotionless boy.
"Hasan!"

"Hello, Draco."

Augusta glanced at the boys with an unfathomable expression before glaring candidly at Lucius.

"Thank you for escorting him." she said icily.

But Lucius didn't rise to the bait. Actually, he didn't even recognize the bait. He too was occupied with the children. Lucius'
pale eyes roved over the young Castell and his hands shook imperceptibly behind his back.

"Where are your parents dear?" Narcissa asked, tugging Lucius to her side.

"Parents weren't invited." Augusta muttered agitatedly.

Hasan tilted his head and let a soft smile seep onto his face.

"I don't know." Hasan replied evenly. This woman was going to have to be a lot more specific! Technically he didn't
consider anyone his parents. Altair was classified as an adoptive father, and Lily and James were buried at Godric
Hollow. Even then, he had only read that in a book, and books could have typos, misprints, or lies. Really, it was a rather
difficult question.

"You live in France, right?" Draco asked.

Hasan nodded. "Yes."

"Then your parents are at home then?" Narcissa probed. Really? He had to go through the home thing again? Well, it
didn't matter, did it, if he considered Castell Estate his home. Altair wasn't there anyway.

Lucius, over in his brain, was doing some rapid thinking too. Could he, himself, be so transparent as to ask about his
family?

Hasan shook his head to the previous question. Narcissa sighed and looked apologetically at her husband. Lucius too
was ready to bang his head against something, hard. It was just so infuriating! The boy was obviously telling the truth!
Lucius didn't know exactly what he was searching for within the boy's answers. No, he couldn't lie to himself. Lucius
Malfoy needed to know. Needed to know who this man was with brown hair and blue eyes, and knew he had something
to do with this boy, Hasan. Severus was surprisingly unhelpful, saying he had never known a man like that in his life. But
Lucius had the distinct feeling that Severus was lying. But why was that?

Well, wouldn't that be bloody lovely to know!

"Who takes care of you, b- Hasan?" Lucius demanded in a borderline threatening voice.

And amazingly, wonders of all wonders, Hasan answered.

"My mentor." Hasan's eyes narrowed in a way of saying that he couldn't and would not reveal his name. Narcissa didn't
know what crazy project Lucius was working on now, but she certainly knew she didn't want to upset Draco's friend!
Least of all in front of Augusta Longbottom! "It seems you're curious, Mr. Malfoy." Hasan observed lightly. "I'll be sure to tell
him."

"It's a 'him?'" Lucius blurted. Hasan raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that's really lovely that you have such a good relationship with your...mentor!" Narcissa gushed, steering a frozen
Lucius back the way they came. "And have fun, Hasan, Dragon!"

The two apparated away with a 'pop' leaving Draco and Hasan alone with a very confused and irritated Augusta
Longbottom.

"Well get in."

.oOo.

"I'm not sure of anything anymore!" McGonagall yelled to the staff. "How could we just condemn a man to death? What
proof did we have? What trial?"

"There didn't need to be a trial! There were witnesses!" Albus protested sadly, cowering behind his desk in his chair.
"Pettigrew was dead for all we knew..."

"Yes! Exactly how you wish Harry Potter was dead!" Minerva cried. "I know that you're raising that Longbottom boy to be
your perfect savior, but Harry isn't dead! I refuse to believe it!"

"Minerva, if we could please stay on topic—?" Snape sneered. "I'm sure we're all just dying to hear about Potter, but there
is no way I'm allowing that wolf to teach here!"

"Oh come on, Severus!" Poppy pleaded. "Now that Sirius is free, Remus has come out of hiding! How Pettigrew could
have been living as a rat for thirteen years is beyond me! But he was caught going to someone, somewhere yesterday
and the best guess is that it was You-Know-Who!"

"Which is why we need Harry Potter!" Minerva roared.

"Which is why we need a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Snape hissed at the same time.

"Minerva, Severus," Albus said plaintively, "Lockhart was a mistake. I admit it now. Now, especially since his farce has
been uncovered-"

"Like yours will!" Minerva interrupted.

"Minerva, please!" Albus silenced her with a hand. "Lockhart had been searching for the Potter boy in the Himalayas and
had run into a family of Vampires. After his death, investigations were made on the several complaints filed against him
and the whole thing was unearthed! As long as those files were hidden, I had no way of knowing-"

"It's called checking up, Albus!" Minerva said bitterly.

"Shh, dear. Let him finish." Poppy chided. "Besides, I want to hear his next great plan to tell Augusta and survive."

"As I was saying, Remus Lupin has always been on the side of the Light, and he's a most able defense instructor. I know
how much you want the position, Severus, but Remus will be a much better teacher for the kids than Lockhart!" Albus
explained.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I earned the title of Potions Master because I enjoy potions? I have no doubt the wolf can
teach the students more than Lockhart. I'm only wondering if he won't change a few before-"

"Severus, that's enough!" Albus ordered. He sighed and stroked his beard. So much had happened during the summer
months. So much...Voldemort was back, but hell if Dumbledore could say that. The Ministry was straining to comply with
the Longbottom mission as it was! (He suspected that early articles were being written for when the whole plot
uncovered itself.)

"No! It's bloody well not enough, Albus! We sentenced Black to death!" Minerva cried out again. "Maybe if you kept a better
eye on your students...ALL your students, kids like Tom Riddle, Peter Pettigrew, and Harry Potter wouldn't have fallen
through the cracks!"

"How was anyone supposed to know that Tom Riddle would grow up to become Lord Voldemort? I wasn't even
headmaster then. Second, I am highly aware of all the animagi in the school! James Potter was a stag! Sirius is a dog!"

Snape tried his best not to snort. Well done, Dumbledore, you've really got your eye on things, haven't you? While the
headmaster was defending himself from all sorts of attacks by the mediwitch and the Transfiguration professor, Snape
was wondering why Pettigrew had blown his cover. Surely the Dark Lord was not ready to rise once more? Right after the
incident with the stone? Severus shuddered at the prospect of a newly revived Dark Lord, and quickly excused himself
from the redundant arguments.

Lucius had called him once again and Snape had to be at the Manor in less than ten minutes.

.oOo.

After a wonderfully fun afternoon playing a simplified version of quidditch, in which everyone was a seeker, and the kids
were split into two teams, the children retired to the dining room, where Augusta had laid out some hors d'oeuvres.
Draco and Hasan were seated side by side, with Neville on Hasan's left. Next to Neville sat Ginny, Ron, Fred, George,
Hermione, Theo, and Tracey next to Draco.

"Wow, Neville! You were a natural!" Ginny gushed, referring to the fact that Neville had managed to stay on his broom.
"A vast improvement." Draco chuckled.

"The same could be said for you." Hasan whispered, and Draco had the sense to look sheepish.

"Oh, it's alright, Draco." Tracey reassured him. "Your first year spunk let us appreciate Hasan more!"

The table laughed quietly, despite Ginny being wholly ignorant, and the twins being privy to a rushed version told by a very
emotional Hermione Granger, in the common room later that very day.

"I wish I could have seen it," Neville said with a chuckle. "It seems so out of character for Hasan to be aggressive..." he
paused and clamped his mouth shut, "Er, then again."

"You're thinking of the Philosopher's Stone, aren't you?" Theo asked quietly. "If you don't mind, what really happened?"

"Er." Neville said.

"Well, Neville, Hasan, Draco, and myself went up to the third floor corridor and..." Hermione rattled off details that no one
could believe she remembered such as the slanting hallways with damp green moss, and the color of the potions, and
the size of the chess board. Finally, she got to the stone. "...but then, there was only enough for two of us, you know." She
looked helplessly at Neville for aid, who looked at Hasan.

"Well, what happened, Hasan?" Draco asked.

"Neville fought the Dark Lord."

Neville blinked, "What?"

"Oh, man! That's-" Fred said with a gasp.

"Insane, Neville!" George finished, plopping a handful of grapes in his mouth.

"With swords? Did you have a wizard's duel? Did he try and Avada you?" Theo asked in awe.

"They fought with words." Hasan supplied as Neville glubbed like a fish. "The dark lord was charming with his words,
though his head was quite ugly."

"I've heard he's got no nose." Fred said.

"Well, he had two this time." Neville giggled nervously. "He was on the back of Quirrell." Neville explained.

George wrinkled his nose. "Well, that explains the god awful smell."

"And that gaudy turban." Tracey said in disgust.

"That could also have been all the time he spent with trolls." Hermione observed eagerly. "He let that one in on
Halloween, remember?"

The group continued to chat, when the doorbell sounded richly like chimes.

"Oh!" Neville said and hastily went to get up.

"Please, I'll get it." Hasan spoke up smoothly.

"Oh, um, alright." Neville agreed, sliding back down.

The conversation resumed as Hasan took his time walking to the door. The bell sounded again as he passed the gift
table, and the most peculiar feeling came over him. He turned towards the presents, and let his instinct control his body.
He was his body's toy, and much as that confused him. His hands reached out, and his eyes landed on the oddest
looking book before he realized he was holding it.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." Hasan said before starting. "Voldemort's name is Tom." It seemed too weird to be a coincidence,
and then, the name itself was so outlandish that Hasan believed it was a code. Perhaps an anagram? Hasan enjoyed
puzzles very much, perhaps he's solve it later.

The bell sounded. Should he take it? It didn't belong, for what idiot got someone a diary already named? And misnamed
at that? Neville certainly didn't need to read the horror that was Tom Riddle's innermost thoughts! Then how had it got
here- ah! It lay beside Draco's gift, and come to think of it, Lucius had had his hands behind his back...Lucius was
dangerous man, a follower of Lord Voldemort, Altair had told him. It fit. It made sense. Almost. Why would the master give
his servant his diary? Hasan flicked the book open, eager for answers...blank. Well that was just lovely. That settled it:
this was dark.

Hasan had no qualms shrinking the diary and slipping it into his pocket, and then slapping an innocent smile on his
face and opening the door.

.oOo.

Malfoy Manor was the same as ever. A small herd of albino peacocks, an ominous gate that could probably lock you in,
and a dashing little manor that hosted the Dark Lord's more important meetings. A charming house, indeed.

Severus strode up to the door, cloak billowing behind him, and knocked. The door creaked open of its own accord, and
Snape let himself in.

"Lucius? Narcissa?" Snape began to get that panic that he knew something was wrong but was too far away to do much
about it. "Lu-"

Suddenly, a young house-elf apparated into the room wearing an old pillowcase.

"Master Snape, sir, they Malfoy's have gone to be taking Draco to his party."

"Ah, yes, the Longbottom party." Snape sneered as he made himself home on the couch. He was easily Lucius' best
friend, a man living on the fringes of distinctive black and white, much like Snape. "Thank you, Dobby."

"Oh, yes, Dobby is most welcome to be helping Master Snape, sir." with a snap of his fingers, the house-elf vanished,
leaving Snape pleasantly alone in what was practically the most dangerous house in Britain. The suspense only lasted
for another minute, for Lucius and Narcissa presently entered the manor, chatting rather loudly.

"-you so interested in Hasan?" Narcissa asked. "You need to tell me, Lucius! I need to know!"

"'Cissa! I don't know! We gave him the dagger! Doesn't that warrant innocent curiosity!"

"You practically interrogated him!"

"You helped!"

"I didn't want you to look like a fool!" Narcissa cried, before catching sight of Severus. He noticed that her blue eyes were
moist with worry, and her posture was terribly shaken. "Excuse me." The Malfoy matriarch quickly exited the room,
running up the stairs and slamming the door to her chambers. Lucius faced Severus with a scowl.

"You know Hasan Castell. You're his head of house." Lucius said slowly. The bag under his eyes were most prominent
now, and his tone was weary.

"Yes, as I am for all the Slytherins."

"Then you must know who his father is." Lucius said, and quickly cast a silencing charm around them. "I don't know why.
Narcissa cannot know! But this has got to do with him!"

Snape stared. "I have no clue who the boy's father could be."

"Severus-!"

"Lucius, believe me. The boy has been adopted. The only way I have access to the records is if we alert Dumbledore and
we can't have that!"

Lucius sighed deeply. "Why can't I remember the name? I must have gone to school with him, must have been in
Slytherin..."

Severus was torn. He could hardly rat out Altair, but seeing Lucius like this was terrible. His hair was in disarray, his face
lined with all the wrinkles of his age.

"Perhaps, perhaps you are remembering a man who died..." Severus suggested lightly.

"Died-?" Lucius repeated, head popping up. "Who? Tell me who! Tell me the name!" He was on his feet, eyes flashing
wildly before coming to his senses and falling down dejectedly.

Snape winced. "Altair Castell."

"Altair..." Lucius trailed off, eyes going misty...he was searching, searching his memory for what, he could not recall.

"He was in your year...he had brown hair and blue eyes."

Lucius gaped and sagged in his chair. "You bastard. You knew. You knew from the moment I opened my mouth, didn't
you?"

"He's dead!" Severus protested sharply. "He's absolutely dead! The Dark Lord killed him when he refused his service!"

"What year? What year?" Lucius demanded, wringing out his hands in a decidedly unMalfoylike fashion.

"The same year, goddammit, Lucius!" Severus shouted. "It's just a coincidence!" Shit! Shit! Shit!

"Severus! Seven whole years of my life were ripped from me! I can't recall a single thing! If he's truly dead, I've no hope to
recover them! Do you understand me? I've finally figured out why I can't remember and I have absolutely no way of fixing
it!"

His chest heaved and Severus just stared. His friend was falling apart, over that idiot, Altair Castell. What had
happened? Why had it happened? They weren't even friends that Severus could recall...Narcissa.

"Excuse me, Lucius."

.oOo.

Hasan opened the red front door to find a pretty young girl, most likely Ginny's age, but without the obnoxious adoration of
the manor or the prospect of seeing the Boy-Who-Lived. Her eyes were silvery, like Draco's, but not sharp at all. On the
contrary, rather soft. Her lips were slight and pink, and she had on a black dress with silver star earrings that glinted out
from behind her soft blonde hair. This must have been an old connection…

"Hello." Hasan said, his mouth going dry. There was an emotion, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Hello, Hasan Castell." she replied dreamily. "I'm Luna Lovegood. Am I late?"

"You know my name." Hasan stated blankly.

"Yes, I know many names." Luna smiled, warmth in her eyes. Hasan looked at her oddly. Did she know? Like the sorting
hat knew? Like the letter and Ollivander and his wand knew? "Don't worry, I love secrets." she said, and handed him her
gift.

"No, you're right on time." Hasan breathed. "It's lovely to meet you, Luna."

She nodded and stepped inside at his universal gesture of enter. She smelled faintly of gardenia...

When they entered the dining room, Ginny frowned at the new arrival and Neville seemed to want to melt into the floor.

"Why are you wearing black?" Hermione inquired the burning question, with a pointed glance. Hasan had been
wondering too, but was too polite to care.

"Oh! It's good luck to wear black on birthdays!" She smiled at all the other occupants who were also wearing the morbid
shade, and tilted her head. "Happy Birthday, Neville."

At that moment, Augusta made her entrance with dinner, chicken pot pie, salad, steak, potatoes, bread & butter,
triangular sandwiches...before conjuring a seat for Luna. The blonde moved it to sit next to Hasan and Neville, and the
two kindly shifted over for her.

"What a lovely dinner," Tracey complimented to Neville. "Your Gran is quite the cook. We have house-elves to do our
cooking for us."

"House-elves?" Hermione asked blankly.

"Oh, yes. They're um, they are these elves, short with big ears and eyes, and they do chores and things..." Tracey
explained tentatively.
"You mean slaves!" she shrieked, looking at the girl in horror.

"Well, er, I'm not sure that they're the same." Tracey said quietly, "They like the work."

"Calm down, Hermione. All the pureblood families have at least a dozen." Draco drawled from his end of the table. Her
eyes seemed to bug out of her head.

"A...dozen?" she squeaked.

"At least." Draco clarified.

"You've never heard of house-elves?" Theo wondered.

"'Course not, she's a muggleborn!" Ron sneered.

Hermione blinked away angry tears, wondering how her ignorance could lead Ron to be so mean...maybe because he
wasn't invited to go with them to the stone...or maybe she should study more?

"R-ron." Neville mumbled. He really didn't want to deal with a disagreement.

"Yeah, Ickle Ronnikings, mind-"

"Your manners!" Fred and George chorused.

"It's not my fault she was raised in a muggle family!" Ron protested, shoving more food onto his plate.

"Shh, it's okay, Hermione." Theo soothed, but she had already run to the bathroom. Luna watched after her sadly. Hasan
shrugged.

The rest of dinner was eaten in silence, frequent dagger-glare hybrids sent Ron's way from Theo, and some remark
about Neville's house, hair, or superb flying from Ginny. Eventually, Hermione came around, but she was quiet as a
mouse.

"Cake and presents!" Ginny declared happily, and the presents were opened right at the table. Mostly it was books, on
politics, plants, animals, plants, quidditch, flowers...eventually he made it down to Hasan's gift, and by this time, most of
the kids had gone to stare at the cake. He reached forward, but Hasan stopped him with a slight shake of his head.

"Later." Hasan whispered, and pointed to the book on Animagi.

The two rose and joined the others at the table, all looking at the large white frosted cake with the large golden letters:
"BWL (and underneath it) Neville Longbottom"

Neville's face turned bright red and he stared at his Gran in horror.

"Oh, isn't it simply lovely?" Ginny gushed, goggling at the initials.

Draco shrugged and looked for Hasan in the crowd.

"Hasan? When do you want to-?"

"When only three remain." Hasan replied cryptically, and turned his attention back towards the lighting of the candles.
The song of Happy Birthday began and ended, as Augusta took great pleasure in slicing the cake into generous pieces.
Hasan was eyeing the knife in apprehension, knowing that he never wanted to meet Augusta Longbottom in battle. Not
only could she simply wave her wand to cut the cake, but she reveled in the swinging of the blade...

.oOo.

Severus left Lucius to cradle his worn out mind, and had come upstairs to give Narcissa a little chat.

"Who is it?" Narcissa asked, wrenching open the door with a choked sob. Oh, dear. Crying women were really not
Severus' forte... "Oh, Sev. H-how are you?"

"Fine, Narcissa...but Lucius is not." Narcissa nodded sadly and offered Snape a seat in a plush black chair. She herself
took up residence on the bed.

"I know!" she wailed. "But I don't know what to do! He won't tell me what's wrong! He's just so obsessed with Hasan!"
Which reminded him.

"He gave the boy the dagger..." Severus breathed. There were only three per family, per generation really, and the giving of
one was practically unheard of. For the Malfoy's doubly so.

"Yes." Narcissa nodded. "Yes, Draco's taking a liking to Hasan C-castell."

"Ah, I see." Snape murmured after a moment. "And what is it exactly that you know about Mr. Castell that Lucius does
not?"

She glanced up at him with bloodshot eyes, before coming to a resolution.

"Everything."

"Elaborate."

The blonde gave a shudder and sighed. "I don't know much of anything really, but...before my marriage to Lucius, did you
know, he used to have a f-friend?"

Snape nodded slowly, his understanding, but not his recollection. Lucius, having another friend? That Snape didn't know
about?

"Well...h-he, no one knew anything about him! And then he died, disappeared."

"Who?" Snape demanded, though he already knew the answer. "Who?"

"Altair Castell."

Oh, how did Altair manage to get himself into these sorts of things?

"Did you ever meet him?" Snape queried.

"No, no, no one ever did." Narcissa sighed. "We never talked about him, ever...but, there were rumors that he didn't want
to be in the Dark Lord's service. He was never heard of since."

Snape knew this much. The man had been desperate to escape...had been desperate enough to die. But there was
something else. Why was Lucius involved? Why was Lucius suffering from memory blanks seven years long?

"There's something else. Tell me." Snape hissed. She shook her head, tears streaming down. "This is about your
husband!" Snape roared. "He is tearing himself apart right now because he can't remember! No one knows! And if you
can help him- save him, and you're so close! Goddammit Narcissa!"

"Altair...he." she seemed to be struggling through the words. "He contacted me one day, many years ago, before Draco
was born...before the wedding."

Everything went still.

"He-" Narcissa collapsed in tears, "He said Lucius was safe now. That he could serve the Dark Lord faithfully. But he took
the memories...He said never to mention him again, or the seven years they had worked together. I-I was stunned.
And...and I don't know what to do."

Snape , too, was gaping. Altair had supposedly protected Lucius from what? Obviously the Dark Lord, his mind supplied.
But why? What had been so terrible to make the man want to leave? Turncoat? What had they been working on?

And oh so conveniently, Altair had disappeared from Snape's radar too. Raven couldn't be found. Altair didn't show. He
was gone.

Severus looked at the broken woman before him and shut his eyes. Narcissa couldn't do anything but tear her own self
up with guilt. She needed to be strong, for Draco, for Lucius...and the Dark Lord when he returned. There could be no
cracks, no seams or splinters. No emotion. No guilt.

"Obliviate."

No recollection.
A/N- Oooohh! Poor Narcissa! And...What's happening with Altair? Lupin's coming to Hogwarts! Augusta was really
fun to write, and I didn't want to neglect the twins!

I hope I'm not moving too fast with the pairings...But I really did want to introduce Ginny and Luna with a bang! I will
explain Luna's peculiar premonitions in the next chapter and also Draco and Hasan's Animagus transformations.

But I'm not updating till after Valentine's day! Until then, please review! They make me so happy!

BT
*Chapter 11*: Black and White
Author's Note: Hello my darling readers! I know it's been a while, but well, Life is a bitch sometimes. Thank you for
reviewing, favoriting, and following my story! I deeply appreciate any sort of feedback, comments, or questions.
Reviews are like cookies- you can't have too much of them! So please, read and review! I especially like the long
ones...they are the best type of cookie!

Also...This chapter features Animgaus Transformations and Professor Lupin! I hope you like Hasan's form!

ENJOY

Return of Emerald

Chapter 11: Black and White

"Bye Neville!"

"Bye, Happy Birthday, Neville!"

"Thanks for inviting me!"

"See you later, Golden Boy!"

The guests filed out, activated their portkeys, and were whisked away, leaving behind the forms of Neville, Hasan, Luna,
and Draco.

"Can we do it now?" Draco asked impatiently. "Honestly! No Christmas present should be delivered this late! You might
as well wait till next Christmas!"

Hasan shrugged, looking at Draco's white-blonde hair in the darkness.

"I suppose that was supposed to be sarcastic?" Hasan questioned innocently.

"Oh, Salazar!" Draco cried out. "Just give me the potions already! I've trained with Sev all summer!"

"You have to see Professor Snape in the summer?" Neville cringed. "Oh, I couldn't deal with that!"

"Well he is my godfather." Draco informed him. "So are we doing this or not?" His eyes strayed to where Luna was busy
staring up at the full moon, the light illuminating her pleasant face.

"Oh, I love secrets!" Luna called from her position. She straightened and walked next to Hasan. "I wonder what animal
you'll be...I won't tell." Her face was full of hope and trust, and it was mutually decided that she should stay. (Since she
knew enough information to indict them anyway.)

"Neville, when you're finished the preparation, you'll do this too." Hasan told him. "But for now, keep it safe, yes?"

Neville nodded as he watched the two Slytherins with interest. Neville and Luna were off to the side as Hasan and Draco
backed up into the field. Augusta had already fallen asleep to the rowdy young wizards' chatter, and the night was theirs.

"Bottoms up?" Draco called.

"Yes." Hasan said, and Draco tilted back his head and downed the entire vial.

He shut his eyes, hoping that whatever he was, wasn't hideous. Trust a Malfoy to be concerned about ascetics and not
about potentially fatal side-effects...

Draco felt nothing at first as the cool liquid slid down his throat. Then there was a tingling in his fingertips and toes.
Hasan, Neville, and Luna waited with baited breath...and then Draco began to glow in soft silver light. The light
surrounded him, yet did not cast its glow on any of their surroundings and alert Augusta of their...activities.

Draco gasped audibly as the light went inside of him. What the hell? Was this normal? Sure he had read up on it and all,
but no one had mentioned this part! His bones snapped in half, as if an invisible hammer was breaking him and
building him back up from the inside out. He couldn't help it- he cried out in agony, though it sounded more like a whine
as his legs shortened and pelvis rotated forward...

"Oh my!" Luna gasped, taking in Malfoy's new form.

"Wow." Neville echoed, squinting into the darkness.

Twenty feet in front of them, where a second ago stood a writhing Draco, now sat a gorgeous white lynx. It seemed to
smirk at them before licking its large white paw with a deep purr.

"That makes sense. In an odd way." Hasan murmured, looking blankly at the feline. He was certainly large, and majestic,
beautiful too, really. Hasan wouldn't put it past him to actually kill someone in this form just to see if he could. "Tu aimes,
non?" Hasan asked.

The lynx roared and prowled beside Neville. The Golden Boy reached up tentatively to pet it, and most surprisingly, the
lynx lowered its head and complied. After a minute, it shut its large silver eyes, and transformed back into a (thankfully)
fully-clothed Malfoy.

"Ha! That was amazing, Hasan." Draco laughed. "Merry Christmas!"

"I'm glad you like yourself." Hasan smiled, before raising the vial to his own lips. The icy potion rolled down the polished
glass into Hasan's waiting mouth. He wondered vaguely if being Hasan and not Harry had any bearing on his Animagus
form, but didn't have long to think before the sensations took over. Hasan wasn't one that people would usually describe
as 'emotionally-in-tune,' in fact, he was downright apathetic. But what people didn't know, was that inside, beneath all
those layers of Hasan, was a Harry. Not that they were separate...but Hasan enjoyed the comparison. And currently,
Hasan was very much wrapped up in his Harry side. The emotions were overwhelming: his heart, his pulse, the grass,
his lungs, his friends.

A light green mist surrounded him. A cry ripped from his lips as his body melted down, shrinking, shrinking, breaking,
solidifying. They hadn't said it would be this bad! Granted, only fully grown witches and wizards had undergone the
transformation on the record. Still, it would have been nice to have a little warning! His arms shortened, legs shortened,
nose elongated...eyes, well he didn't really know.

Suddenly, a squeal shot through the air, accompanied by a peal of laughter.

"Oh, Hasan!" Luna squealed, then laughed with a twinkling sincerity. "Ah! This is wonderful! Absolutely you!"

Neville beside her was squinting. "What the heck, Lumos!...Oh! You've got black fur!"

"Hey, get over here, Hasan! I want to pet you!" Draco laughed as Hasan gaped.

"Aww! He's so cute!" Luna murmured.

Hasan sighed and got to his feet, swishing his fluffy black tail in the air. He turned gingerly, feeling the blades of grass he
crushed beneath his padded paws, and blinked at his friends in surprise. They were all watching him with adoration.
Was he really that cute? What in Salazar's name was he? He shook his lean body out and sensed a tail, little paws, and
a snout. A dog? A kitten?

He stared questioningly at the trio and sat in front of Neville with a flick of his tail. What?

Neville cleared his throat. "Hasan, y-your eyes...they're emerald green."

"It's kind of spooky actually." Draco admitted, reaching out to stroke his little ears.

Well that's just great, Malfoy! Now if you could-?

"I don't know. They're beautiful, Hasan." Luna murmured truthfully. "Like the Avada Kedavra."

The two boys stared at her in shock, gaping candidly as her silvery eyes widened.

"What?" she asked. "The shade is perfect!" Luna reached down and pulled Hasan gently into her lap. Hasan sighed, he
couldn't transform back now! "You're much smaller than Draco. I bet I could fit you in my purse." Luna said
conversationally.

"Don't you dare!" Draco said.

"I agree. I don't think he'd like it much." Luna concurred amiably. She set him lightly onto the grass in her palms, and
beamed down at his tiny figure. Hasan sighed out in relief and shifted back into his human form, recognizing with great
pleasure that the switch was now painless.

"What was I?" Hasan demanded.

"Oh, sorry-" Draco said laughing, "I forget in my amusement."

"Well?"

"You were a black fox kit!" Luna informed him sweetly. "Really quite adorable. I bet you could sneak into all sorts of places
being that small. But your eyes were rather pretty."

"Scary, more like it." Draco muttered.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not completely defenseless." Hasan commented. "But I did like your lynx. Well done, Draco."

Draco beamed under the praise, and asked Neville what he thought he would be. But all the while, Hasan watched
Luna's wondering eyes, and he knew who the fourth vial was going to be. The four departed, Neville to his house, and
the rest whirled away with their portkeys.

For Neville, it was the best birthday ever.

.oOo.

Severus found himself later that night pacing around his office at Hogwarts. He entered into his private chambers and
fell onto the bed, head pounding furiously. Each summer, Severus Snape had taken up lodging within the school,
despite owning the deed to his childhood home at Spinner's End. His youth had been most distasteful and he much
preferred the comfort of Hogwarts, even if it was filled with little cretins for 75 percent of the year.

He had a lot to think about.

Remus Lupin had received his dose of Wolves' Bane Potion yesterday, and was probably curled up in the side of his
mutt friend (Black confessed to being an Animagus to further the validation of Pettigrew's testimony), Sirius Black, at
number 12, Grimmauld Place. Black made it no secret that he hated the house, but after being released from the horrors
of Azkaban, there wasn't much time for planning.

So it seemed that the two did have something in common after all.

Snape turned his attention towards other things, like Hasan Castell and his damnable father, Altair. The boy was
adopted, and yet, Snape had never heard of him until this year. It just proved that Altair was fully able to hide some things.
A statement proven by his rather emotional afternoon with the Malfoy's.

What could it all mean?

Seven years missing from Lucius' memory. Taken supposedly by Altair to keep him loyal to the Dark Lord. Hasan Castell
suddenly appearing at Hogwarts, even though his name had only just appeared three summers ago. And then, those
beautiful, heart-wrenching emerald eyes that flashed briefly at the end of term. How was it that Hasan was able to battle
the Dark Lord and win? And then it seemed that the Dark Lord summoned Peter Pettigrew, for what? Surely not
resurrection! Not yet!

Yes, there was a lot to think about and yet so little time. Some good did come out of it, however: Lockhart was dead, and
Peter was receiving the Kiss. Justice at its finest!

With these comforting and turbulent thoughts, Severus prepared for bed.

.oOo.

On July 31st, Hasan and Altair began to ready for Hogwarts. His school supplies were ordered by owl post, meaning
Hasan would consequently have to wait at the local market (under heavy anti-muggle spells) to receive his books. His
homework for the summer was finished, finally, and the two resumed their training in dueling. Altair made profiteroles
with chocolate sauce and heavy whipped cream for Hasan's birthday. And Hasan was gifted with what he dubbed the
Black Blood Book by the mysterious L.A.M and A.D.C. He didn't know many people's middle names, but the first and last
matched Lucius Malfoy and Altair Castell, perfectly. And yet the man was dangerous? A betrayal? Oh! How exciting! It was
just like his Lord of the Rings books!
Speaking of books, Hasan had shoved the diary in his school trunk. He had already worked out the anagram in his mind,
and the diary did indeed belong to Lord Voldemort. He didn't dare open it at the estate, least Altair's ability picked it up, so
Hasan placed heavy protective wards over it, disguising it with his own magical aura as were all his possessions.
Hopefully he could spend more time with both books in school.

August passed in a breeze! With Hasan learning to move around in his fox form every time Altair was out of the house, he
quickly mastered the art of prowling silently, and learning to examine the scents that filled his nose.

It was amazing really how Altair could hide from Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the Ministry, but not notice that his son
could turn into an animal. It seemed that his aura hadn't changed at least, which Altair now saw every day because he
refused to let Snape know his whereabouts at any given moment. Which, unfortunately (or fortunately in Hasan's case)
meant that Altair had no access to the Daily Prophet, and thus had no knowledge of the events occurring last June. For
Altair, the Dark Lord was still dead, and Hasan was determined to keep it that way. He wondered how long Altair would
put up with the headaches before contacting Snape and uncovering the whole fiasco... Hasan shrugged. The man would
find out eventually.

Hasan thought of Draco in his lynx form, white as fresh snow with large gray eyes. Then pondered what Neville and his
new acquaintance, Luna, would be. Could one's Animagus be a plant? Hm, Hasan would be thoroughly amused if that
were so. But where would the transformation even take place? They would surely complete their studies within the
school year. Hasan vaguely recalled a portrait talking of a come-and-go room...perhaps he'd ask the house-elves...?

.oOo.

It had been a two weeks since the party, and Lucius was no sooner getting the name 'Castell' out of his mind than he
was two weeks ago. He was going insane, he felt it. He barely slept anymore and even then he was dreaming of a low
chuckle and light blue eyes. Altair Castell.

He had done his research, assuredly, and it had infuriatingly coincided with Snape's version of events. The man was
declared dead after his disfavor with the Dark Lord was known. It seemed that Lucius'...association, however and
whatever that was, remained undiscovered. Lucius could only think that Altair had erased his memories to protect
him...but this was wishful thinking. Good intentions? Towards him? And even if that was the case, how in hell was this
suffering doing him good?

Lucius sighed and sat up in bed. It was 3am but he wasn't in the least bit tired. Just then, a large brown owl battered its
wings against his window. Tang! Tang! Tang! Lucius alighted from the bed gracefully and welcomed the owl inside,
figuring he might as well. It was a friend, it must've been for the owl to arrive at his personal chambers...

He untied the letter from the owl's leg and sent the owl back outside, knowing that his own eagle-owl would be willing to
make a reply trip later if necessary.

Dressed in a black and gray striped dressing gown, Lucius Malfoy settled at his desk and unfurled the parchment. His
breath stopped.

"Dear Lucius,

You have questions. I have answers. All I demand is secrecy to the utmost and you may know everything. But only if I get
what I want too.

I propose an exchange, a classic Slytherin quid pro quo, and you may ask me as many questions as you like in
exchange for a few simple tasks. Follow my instructions and you may still hope to salvage those precious seven years of
your life.

But I warn you. This information will disrupt your perfect life. Accept with caution, b ut refuse with even greater caution. This
is a onetime offer. Of your enquiries, I will send b ack three answers once I've seen that your task has b een completed.
Please think carefully and enclose your reply within this envelope.

Best regards,

Altair Dean Castell"

.oOo.

Somehow, in the hustle and bustle of the Hogwarts Express, Hasan found himself in a compartment with Draco, Luna,
Neville, Tracey, and Ginny. Ginny latched herself onto Neville's arm (literally) and Neville himself was getting a little bit
flustered. Twice he had to leave the room and escape to his fellow Gryffindors to get away from the ginger haired
maiden. Daphne and Theo were with the other Slytherins, like Blaise and Pansy, down the hall. Theo had momentarily
thought about sitting with Hermione (who had been making puppy dog eyes at him) but decided it would be entirely
inane to associate with the Gryffindors. Especially with Ronald Weasley in the same room. It seemed that Hermione was
still not over Ron's crassness at the party, but only remained with him because of her inability to make friends.

"Did you see that new professor?" Luna asked mildly once the trolley rolled away.

"For DADA, yes?" Hasan asked.

Draco snorted, "Obviously. Father says there's a jinx on the position put there by the Dark Lord."

"Oh yes, I can sense it." Luna said, which was met with silence.

"What did he or she look like?" Tracey inquired politely, her blonde hair falling forward as she leaned closer to the girl.

"His name's Remus Lupin, and he's asleep in Hermione and Ron's compartment." Luna continued. "I'm actually
surprised that those two are sitting together. Ron really shouldn't have said that."

Neville was surprised that the girl remembered as much, then again, Hermione did run out crying...

Remus and Romulus...Lupin, Lupine. Hasan thought quickly. Well wouldn't that be ironic if...Well, Dumbledore hadn't
had a problem with hiring Quirrellmort, so perhaps the man really was a werewolf. Hasan decided that he'd ask Snape
later, but really it was so blaringly obvious that he didn't think he had to. All that remained to be seen were the days of his
absences. But Hasan didn't have any sort of prejudice against dark creatures. If he had, he most certainly wouldn't be
conversing with a snake on a mostly daily basis.

No, Hasan hated stereotypes and categorizing people, and he resolutely determined that he should meet this Professor
Lupin first, before judgment should be made.

"Did you hear they were going to hire that fool, Lockhart?" Draco laughed. "The man was a fraud! He just obliviated
everyone that he wrote about so that he could continue his scheme. I can't believe Dumbledore would hire someone like
that! Oh wait! I can!"

Draco chuckled to himself as Tracey smiled kindly.

"And that rat animagus, Pettigrew. They're going to have Dementors around the school now because of him." Neville
piped up nervously.

Hasan felt so out of the loop. Without the month old Daily Prophets, he was now a summer behind the times. Neville
seemed to latch onto Hasan's confusion for he promptly explained, "Um, the Potter's went into hiding when V-voldemort
(he had been practicing over the summer) went after them. They had performed the Fidelius charm and set Sirius Black
as their secret keeper, but...apparently they switched to Pettigrew, and Pettigrew betrayed their location to V-voldemort."

"So what happened," Tracey continued, "Was that Sirius Black went after Peter Pettigrew for revenge, and Peter killed a
bunch of muggles and escaped by turning into a rat. Sirius Black was sentenced, without trial, to life in Azkaban."

"Oh." Hasan said. That was pretty stupid. Sentenced without trial? And they should really have a better hold on this
Animagus epidemic. It was just so easy nowadays for schoolchildren to turn Animagus...

"But you know, it all works out!" Luna said happily, "Sirius Black was released, causing Lupin to reemerge. It's a shame
about the Dementors though. I'd really hate to be kissed by them-"

At that moment, the train began to decelerate, slowing to an agonizing stop with ringing breaks. Luna's silvery eyes went
wide and she pulled out her Quibbler to hide her face behind. Even Draco wasn't looking so good, what with his already
pale skin turning ghastly white as the color drained from his face.

Hasan recognized the effects of the Dementors immediately: His breath came out misting before him, and the window
began to fog up with frost. Not to mention that the train lights flickered out at once (why were they electric?), sending them
into near total darkness. Tracey was looking at everyone wide-eyed, as Ginny squeezed the life out of Neville's arm. It
seemed the only one not freaking out was Hasan, who had whipped out his wand and prepared for a confrontation. He
wasn't a master by any means and his Patronus was hardly corporal, but anything, even a wisp, was better than
nothing...

Screams, echoing from the front and back of the train, more terror than anything, before the outcries seemed to move on
as the Dementors floated through the halls. What idiot left them to roam? Hasan thought bitterly. The screams of terror
were nearer now and Ginny was whimpering pitifully into Neville's chest. That's when the cold settled in, dowsing them
in ice, to the very core of their souls.

"Lumos!" Luna muttered quietly as she peaked over the top of her magazine. The compartment door was illuminated by
her wand light, just in time for it to roll open. Tracey stifled a cry as something beneath the Dementor's hood sucked in a
gasping breath. The figure was covered in a cloak that reached the ceiling, two skeletal hands, wrapped in thin rotted
flesh, protruded out from under it, reaching out deliberately and patiently as if blind and searching.

Hasan felt his chest contract, his heart begin to race, "Expecto Patronum!"

A thin stream of silver light emitted from his wand, floating towards the creature in a pitiful mist. Its hands tore the
protective magic away, like one tearing down a cobweb, and advanced upon the source. Damn, Hasan thought. His
training only went so far, and by this, he meant his father in a robe. All he could think, as his eyes rolled back, was that
hopefully the Dementor didn't want to kiss him...

A white mist surrounded him, and Hasan himself didn't know where he was. Then the white took on shapes and figures
and sounds. He made out the Castell Estate, and then, was that the diary of Tom Riddle? On the tab le? Yells of "It's one
of them, yes. The first. Don't touch it." but the voice too hazy to be recognizable. One what? First of what? Why shouldn't he
touch it? Then he felt a hand on his shoulder,-

"Hasan, come back. Professor Lupin's coming." Luna whispered urgently in his ear, and he was suddenly jerked awake
to find himself sitting on the floor. The lights had been returned to full power, and his friends peered at him curiously.
Quickly, he slid up onto his seat, a hint of rose pooling in his otherwise emotionless face.

"Hasan, are you-" Draco began as the new DADA professor knocked and fluidly opened the door.

"Is everyone alright in here?" His voice was thick with what Hasan assumed was sleep, and there were myriad wrinkles
lining his face. His hair was thin, yet a full and healthy brown, freshly dyed. He seemed nice enough, pleasant, and
concerned enough for a werewolf. "Oh, it's, it's Hasan Castell, isn't it?" he said pleasantly, looking Hasan straight in his
jade green eyes. Hasan nodded numbly.

"How?" So it wasn't a proper sentence, but Lupin figured it out.

"Professor McGonagall mentioned that she taught you a thing or two. And of course, Professor Snape has talked of all of
his snakes." He smiled and reached inside his dapper brown robes for some chocolate. "Here." He broke off a piece for
everyone and left to rescue the occupants of the next compartment.

Hasan chewed his chocolate slowly, (after sniffing it for poison, drugs, and various miscellaneous things), and let the
sweetness spread through him. He really did enjoy chocolate, and after that dementor-induced frost, there was nothing
better in the world.

"So, er," Neville cleared his throat. "Are you alright, Hasan? You kind of just blacked out on us."

Hasan blinked and shrugged. His thoughts wandered to the diary stowed beneath his homework, and wondered when
he would next get to investigate it. "No, I'm fine."

In all honesty, he hadn't been terrified. He had a rather active imagination, perhaps the mem- no- dream had been just
that- nonsense? Yet he had a distinct feeling it wasn't so.

"Oh, alright." Tracey said.

"Professor Lupin seems like he'll be better than Quirrellmort." Draco drawled. "I hope he teaches us to make a Patronus.
His was a wolf, by the way, chased the dementors right off the train."

Well that settled it, Remus Lupin was a werewolf, as if Hasan needed more proof.

"But your attempt was pretty nice, Hasan." Tracey said sweetly.

"It didn't do much though, did it?" Hasan said, "Thanks by the way, Luna." he murmured, and Luna beamed beside him.

.oOo.

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had just sent Draco off to Hogwarts and returned home in a timely fashion. Narcissa was happier it
seemed than usual, and was even giving Dobby some off time. The abnormal little elf actually appreciated it, and then
disappeared to god knows where until Narcissa called for him again. Lucius, if it could be said, was also in high(er)
spirits. His sleeping patterns evened out, and the bags under his eyes gradually disappeared.

Narcissa didn't suspect a thing. Why would she?

But Lucius had a secret, a terrible one: every night he would read the letter sent from Altair Castell and debate whether to
reply or not. And then what exactly it was he was supposed to say. It made him so inexplicably joyful that he wasn't
completely insane, that this Altair Castell did indeed exist, and yet, was it worth it? Yes, he had the perfect family. The
perfect house. The perfect job. He was in favor with the Dark and the Light, and was financially secure (for the next
hundred generations).

Why disturb this?

His flashbacks had evened out, the memory blanks weren't even detrimental. When would someone ever ask him what
had happened in those years? But it was the simple fact of not knowing that drove Lucius up the wall.

What were the tasks? Who was this man? Was he dead? Why was he thought dead? Why was Lucius involved? Without
even being aware of it, he had magically secured the room and had begun to write. The curiosity was back in all its
ferocity and Lucius couldn't take it anymore. He had waited for Draco to leave so as not to worry him, but Draco was
gone, and Narcissa was no longer prying. He needed to know, or so help him he was going to bloody kill himself!

"A. Castell,

I accept. I only ask that you send owls during the night to avoid suspicion. My questions in no particular order are: Who
are you? How am I involved with you? Why are my memories gone from those particular years? Why do I have
glimpses? Why did you write? Why are you thought dead? Why was the Dark Lord after you? What did you do to
displease the Dark Lord? Are you Light or Dark? Are you the man I saw in Diagon Alley? Is Hasan your son? Is he really
adopted? Who is the mother or father? Did you tell him to b efriend Draco? Do you live in France? Why am I to complete
these tasks?

These questions are not limited, b ut surely you can find three to answer satisfactorily.

Regards,

L. Malfoy"

Lucius sealed up the envelope with plain red wax, not daring to place the official Malfoy insignia upon it, before
performing the usual anti-theft spells. He called up his eagle-owl, attached the letter, hoping that its inherent sense of
direction would suffice, and sent it on its way.

.oOo.

Hasan, Draco, Tracey, Daphne, and Theo took up their resident seats at the Slytherin table, leaving Neville to find his
place among the lions. Luna and Ginny had rushed off to be with the other first years as soon as the train arrived, so they
entered separately with Professor McGonagall leading the way. Up at the staff table, Hasan noticed Snape looking at him
peculiarly, and his immediate thoughts headed towards the diary and then to the events on the train. Had Luna been too
slow? Had Lupin seen him on the floor through the glass and alerted his head of house? Hasan's jade green eyes rose
dully to the challenge, staring blankly at the onyx eyes until Snape looked away. Something was different though, a
connection or recognition of prior discoveries? What did Snape know? How did Snape know? And why did he seem
more tired than usual? His black hair fell lifelessly to border his sallow face, but his entire demeanor seemed to scream
'late night work'.

Beside the Potions master sat the werewolf, Professor Lupin. He had brown hair and kind eyes, and seemed very much
to be enjoying the lively school atmosphere. His gaze wandered over the Gryffindors with a melancholy expression, and
Hasan realized suddenly that this man must have been a Gryffindor, but more importantly, that he seemed to be
searching for Harry Potter. Yeah, him and the rest of the world.

Albus Dumbledore took center stage, plum colored robes sweeping the floor.

"As you may have noticed, we have dementors guarding the castle this year." The whispers and murmurings started, and
Albus raised a silencing hand, "I did not wish for this. But the Minister has insisted that proper measures be taken. Over
the summer, the mass murderer and Death Eater, Peter Pettigrew, has been detained and kissed." Hasan noticed
Lupin's face drain of color. Perhaps they had known each other? Which meant sense if Lupin returned because Black
was released, because Black knew Pettigrew on the minimum basis of betrayal. And Pettigrew and Black knew the
Potter's well enough to be their secret keepers. So Hasan's birth parents must have known Lupin,-"To protect the
students of Hogwarts from future attacks by Lord Voldemort's supporters," here, many kids winced, "we must tolerate
these guardians until the threat has been declared null..."

"Yeah, some guardians," Draco muttered, "Bloody soul suckers."

Dumbledore, obviously ignoring the thousands of horrified faces, plunged on with his uplifting speech. "As you have also
noticed, we welcome a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin!"

This elicited many cheers from the many who had received chocolate on the train. Even Draco appeared to be pleased
that this teacher seemed to know what he was doing.

"Unfortunately, Gilderoy Lockhart couldn't make it this year after a run in with a vampire clan, but I am sure you will all
enjoy learning from Professor Lupin!"

The speech ended in applause (more so because the speech was finally over, than love for the headmaster,) and the
sorting began...

"Lovegood, Luna!"

The silver-eyed girl brightened considerably at her name, and rose from the crowd of first years to glide elegantly over to
the stool. There were many odd stares at her walk and demeanor, and a few pointed glances at the rolled up magazine
sticking out of her pocket. She sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders like
a shawl. Professor McGonagall dropped the hat over her head, smiling faintly at the girl before her vision was swamped
in darkness.

"Ah! A Psychic!" the hat nearly shouted in joy, "What a pleasure it is to look into such a mind!"

"Oh, you can sense that?" Luna wondered innocently. "I had a feeling you might."

Luna had known since she was four that something about her was different. Her father was different, very different, but
he was insane and obsessed with nonsensical things. Luna was different in a different way. She had premonitions,
feelings, enhanced intuition,...but wasn't a seer by any means. Not only could she not see the future, but she often times
couldn't decipher half the things she sensed. When she did, it was always a small victory, and recently, she had been
experiencing a lot of those.

"Of course, Miss Lovegood. I can see everything inside your mind, don't worry, I don't pry. So where to put you? Surely you
have some idea." the hat almost sounded amused, if such a thing could be said of a hat. Then again, usual head
accessories didn't talk or sing, or read minds, so what did Luna know?

"A diadem. I sensed a diadem one day..."

"Yes, the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. Someone else asked that a long time ago. Funny how people think all
headwear know each other..."

"So it's real?" Luna asked eagerly. "I remembered wit b eyond measure is man's greatest treasure but couldn't put a
memory to it. Some things just appear, and we can't make sense of them either way. But this seems pretty clear cut: I
think I should be in Ravenclaw. What do you think?"

"It's clear, I shouldn't stall, you belong to-

"RAVENCLAW!"

A cheer went up from the Ravenclaw table as Professor McGonagall took back the hat, and Luna went happily off to join
her housemates. A pretty Asian girl introduced herself as "Cho Chang," and Luna immediately found herself wrapped in
a conversation about drop-dead-gorgeous-Cedric-Diggory, a Hufflepuff student a year ahead of her. Halfway through the
conversation, Luna glanced at the Slytherin table to meet dull jade eyes, and Luna smiled as an inexplicable warmth
flooded through her. Another sign she couldn't quite understand. She turned her dreamy eyes back to Cho, just as the
youngest Weasley scampered off the stool to wrap herself around the waist of the Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione looked on
in disgust...

.oOo.

Sirius Black had stubbornly insisted on two things once he was out of Azkaban. 1) That he be introduced to Harry 2) That
Remus, for once in his life, take care of himself, properly.
After being exonerated from the heinous crimes of which he had been accused, the Black family vault had once again
been unlocked and bestowed upon the last legal heir.

Remus had predictably resisted any such special treatment, insisting that Sirius had just gotten out of Azkaban, and that
he shouldn't indulge his past relations. Time had passed. But Sirius hadn't changed. Remus still deserved the very best,
and Sirius had the money to squander. He didn't feel the least bit guilty about it either. What care he if the fortune was
built generation upon generation of detestable Black relatives? Up until a few months ago, Sirius was to die an unjust
death in Azkaban! Plus, it was all worth it to see Remus blushing in embarrassment.

He really was quite cute when he did that.

A few days later, Dumbledore and Minerva had dropped by the Black's ancestral home to offer Lupin the DADA position.
How they figured he would be there wasn't truly a genius' work: Sirius and Remus had been quite publicly dating in their
last few years of Hogwarts, a relationship desecrated instantly that fateful night eleven years ago, when Peter, not Black,
had betrayed the Potter's to Voldemort.

It hurt to even think about, and the pain of having to tell him now...Albus, the ever sensitive grandfather, was quick to stab
it where it hurt.

"He's missing. Quite possibly dead."

The one thought, hope, and dream that had kept Sirius alive through Azkaban, shattered in those few callous words.
Good going, headmaster, Lupin inwardly thought. But readily accepted the position. If he were to reenter Wizarding
society, (he had stayed with a werewolf pack in the south of France) it was best to start with a job. Few people hired
werewolves these days due to their prior loyalty to the Dark Lord. And by few, it was implied none. Albus offered, Lupin
grabbed.

So here he was, Professor R. J. Lupin of Defense Against the Dark Arts, in fashionable brown wizards robes, a head of
totally brown hair, and wondering 'where on earth was Harry Potter?'

.oOo.

The feast ended with dreadful singing, much applause, and lovely food. Hasan gave a sympathetic (blank) glance to
Neville, as he and Draco exited the Great Hall and turned right, down into the dungeons.

Hasan couldn't wait to uncover the diary at the bottom of his trunk. It had been pressing on his mind all night, further
agitated by the...flash he had experienced with the dementors, and he truly hoped to have some answers soon.

Draco wished him good night and shut himself in his room, leaving Hasan to his own devices. He sent Raven to the
owlery before rummaging through his trunk for the diary. He placed it on his desk and sat down, quill in hand, inkpot
freshly opened on the table.

He flipped through the pages again, but everything was blank. It seemed too odd: the old cover, the crinkly, yellowing
pages, the obvious age of the book (if you did the math) from Voldemort's childhood or teen-hood till now. (It was a clearly
old book, so Hasan assumed the Dark Lord had used it during Hogwarts. What type of full time Dark Lord had time for
journaling?)

Hasan dipped his quill in the ink, carefully running the quill over the paper.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle = I am Lord Voldemort. It is an anagram."

He figured that it was neat enough. It was how he took notes in class. He sighed and rested his chin on his palm just as
the ink began to disappear.

Hasan's breath quickened as he hastily dipped his quill in ink. His writing had just been sucked in! It was a magical
diary! How fascinating!

Before he could continue to write, however, words of the diary's own creation blossomed across the page.

"Who are you?"

The writing was delicately slanted in a fine round cursive.

"I call myself Hasan. How old are you?" Hasan scrawled as neatly as he could.
Immediately there was a reply.

"I am 16." The words to be replaced by, "Hasan, nothing else?"

Hasan thought for a minute. This book was responding to him. It had a mind of its own. It was dark and therefore
dangerous. And yet, what could a diary do to him?

"Hasan Castell. What house were you in at Hogwarts?"

"Slytherin."

Well that was admittedly predictable.

"What are you?" Hasan asked. "What are you really? There are more of you, aren't there Tom? But you're the first."

A pause so great that Hasan was about to close the book ensued, until Tom finally deigned to reply.

"I am exactly who I say I am. I am Lord Voldemort, the sixteen year old version imprinted forever in this diary. As for the
first, I had not been aware there were more. Until later, Hasan Castell."

The ink seeped from whence it came, and Hasan again stowed away the diary. Somehow, Tom Riddle had managed to
preserve himself in a book, and yet, Hasan was ignorant as to what purpose. Perhaps he should have started out by
asking that, but he hadn't wanted to be too bold. Ask the basic questions first, get into intent later. Still, the diary was
enthralling in its own way, and Hasan found himself wanting to converse more with this Tom Riddle...

.oOo.

The very first DADA lesson of the year was quite eventful to say the least. Professor Lupin had waited for everyone to
settle down, the Gryffindors and Slytherins, before making an entrance from his office at the top of the stairs.

"Hello! Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Hasan noticed that he appeared considerably more lively, probably
having gotten over the shock of a school without Harry Potter. But why? Hasan couldn't help himself asking. All they
wanted him for was to defeat Voldemort! That was pretty clear from the way Dumbledore's twinkling eyes would land on
Neville sometimes. So why was it that this Remus Lupin still seemed so affected? Perhaps James Potter and Remus
Lupin were good friends? It would be worth getting to know him better...

"Today's lesson will be hands on, in the sense that you need only your wands! So books away, quills away!" he smiled
happily as they all shoved their books back into their large bags, gaze wondering innocently over to Miss Granger who
had taken out many other books. She sensed his gaze and flushed, knowing she should have just left the extra reading
to the Common Room.

Draco glanced at Hasan excitedly, obviously curious as to what this new teacher would have in store for them. Hasan
himself was just happy to be introduced with a competent instructor. Altair was knowledgeable, but it was always good to
have a second opinion, especially when that second opinion taught how to defend against useful, everyday spells, not
full on Death Eater massacres...

Neville was looking pretty ambivalent, a mixture of apprehension and eagerness. While Ron beside him was staring
dumbly onward.

"We can all stand up, class. How about around this wardrobe, yes?"

It reminded Hasan of the Narnia book, written by C.S. Lewis, a friend of J.R.R. Tolkien. Suddenly, the lesson just got very
fascinating. He looked at the old wardrobe piercingly, wondering what on earth could be hidden in its interior.

"Filch has let me borrow this for my lesson today for it contains a boggart. Now who can tell me what a boggart is?"

Hermione's hand shot in the air, but it was Hasan he called on despite his less than enthusiastic nod.

"Mr. Castell?"

"A boggart is a household pest that likes to reside in dark, confined spaces. It takes on the form of the viewer's worst fear,
yet no one knows what it looks like alone."

Hasan hadn't ever combatted a boggart in training yet, for Altair had seemingly something to hide within his fears, and
Hasan had never pressed the issue, not prepared to give up such vulnerability. But hell to that! Now he was here in front
of half his year, but not panicking. Only wondering idly what it would be.
"Very good! Ten points to Slytherin!" (Hermione looked put out, but otherwise didn't comment.) "Now, the incantation for
getting rid of a boggart is 'Riddikulus.' It works in conjunction with bringing humor into your fear, for boggarts hate
laughter. I shall demonstrate to give you all an idea, but first, any questions?"

Neville raised his hand, "Sir, can we opt out if we want...not that I want to, it's just."

Lupin smiled kindly, "Of course, anyone who wishes to simply watch or try in private may step to the side."

The kids all looked at each other, the peer pressure brewing, the mutual fate of all solidifying. Remus nodded curtly.

"Right, well stand back!" He flung open the wardrobe with her own hands, and a bright full orb came floating out. It
hovered before the Professor, glowing innocently before the Professor shouted, "Riddikulus!"

With a crack, it fell to the floor as a cockroach, and Professor Lupin forced it back into the wardrobe with a spell.

"He fears...white balls?" Draco asked in disbelief. Hasan suppressed rolling his eyes. How Draco could be so blind, and
Lupin so obvious, was beyond him. Still, Hasan didn't think any less of the Professor. It made sense really, and it was
rather poetic in a strange way. If anything, Hasan respected the man for displaying such vulnerability in front of them.
Perhaps DADA would be fun this year after all.

"Wow..." people breathed, some quite shaky now as they envisioned their own worst fears descending upon them.
Hermione's brow was furrowed in thought and Neville looked like he wanted to run for the hills.

"So shall we begin?"

A/N- Ooooh! Sorry to leave you on a cliff ;)

What do you think Hasan's boggart will be? Or rather, "Who"? What's Hasan to do about this mysterious diary?
What were the images Hasan saw when the dementors came? And Luna knows about the diadem, of course! What
will happen? What is happening? Oooooh! The plot thickens...

(I did in fact research the dates of the full moons in 1992-1993, however, I have conveniently ignored the proper date for
July, which was the 14th in 1992, not my July 30th...I shall try and coincide with the correct lunar chart in the future...Also,
Luna's ab ility allows her to sense thing that may occur in the future, or give her helpful hints such as feelings or memory-
like-thoughts in real time. She cannot see the future, hear the future, or predict the future! I wanted to have a feasib le
explanation for her quirkiness, just for the fact that if Luna were truthfully insane, it would drive Hasan up the wall. Which
isn't actually a b ad thing (winks)! And...Yes, it was Gryffindors and Ravenclaws for the b oggart, b ut you see, this is
fanfiction so I shall do as I please!)

PLEASE REVIEW!

Next up: Boggarts and Detective Snape

*Chapter 12*: Boggarts and Detective Snape
Thanks so much to greyhoundxx for beta-ing this chapter and most of the ones before!

A/N1- 200 reviews? SALAZAR! Thank you so much, my wonderful readers! I'm sorry to say my poor organization has
left some of you without thank yous...I'm sorry! But know that I read each one individually and they make my heart
melt!

A/N2- I know some people skip letters or italics in general, however, I beg that you read them. They're essential for
this story to work! Unless you want a WTF moment at the end, I (highly) suggest you start reading the italics. Every
so often there will be a scene with Altair, Lucius, Snape, etc...but please know that Hasan/Harry will remain the main
character of this fic!

Thank you.

And...there is a vote at the end!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 12: Boggarts and Detective Snape

"So shall we begin?" Lupin asked jovially. The boggart was back in its wardrobe, but shook menacingly from within.
"Because there are so many of us, it will be confused as to whom to turn to first. I shall call each of you forward when it's
your turn to face the boggart, but first, I would like for all of you to think about what frightens you most and how you will
transform it to make it comical."

Uneasy faces slowly closed their eyes as they thought. Hasan however, was looking blankly ahead. What scared him
most? Voldemort? Dementors? Altair dead? Him dead? Draco hating him? Time? Honestly, how open ended could you
get? But he wasn't about to ask the professor to define what 'terrifying' meant. He knew what it meant- he wasn't an idiot,
it was just...what was it that scared him the most? Alice in Wonderland? Having this all be a dream? Waking up on Red
Mill's Hill? Or better yet...having Dumbledore appear...or Sauron appear with his Nazgûls. No wait- that would just be
awesome.

The heads around him began to pop up as they finished their battle plans, rolling up their sleeves and muttering
riddikulus beneath their breath. Draco's head rose with a gleam of determination in his silver eyes, and Hasan
immediately abandoned his own plotting to wonder what Draco's boggart could be.

"Is everybody ready?" Lupin asked. "Good! Alright, Hermione, if you please. Will you consent to be the first?"

The bushy-haired witch nodded resolutely with a clenched jaw. She strode to the front of the room, brandishing her wand
in front of her.

"On the count of three...one...two...three!"

The wardrobe was blasted open by another spell, when none other than stern-eyed Professor McGonagall stepped out,
looking sorely disappointed as she gazed down into Hermione's eyes. The aged woman shook her head sadly, holding
up Hermione's end-of-term report card.

"I am sorry, Miss Granger, but you have failed! I am very disappointed in you! Do you know I always thought you didn't
have it in you, being a muggleborn and all-"

Hermione staggered, harshly biting her lip. "R-riddikulus!"

A thin stream of light hit the boggart on target with a loud Crack! Immediately, boggart-McGonagall smiled radiantly as
she held up a shiny new award. On the plaque was Valedictorian, Hermione Granger, although no one but Hermione
really paid that much attention.

Remus clapped his hands. "Simply wonderful, Hermione! Ron, you next!"

The pleased brunette and terrified ginger swapped places and the boggart instantly latched onto its next victim. Where
once was the professor, now stood a menacing black spider with long, sharp pincers, ready to gut the red-head from the
inside out. He swallowed.
"Remember the charm!" Lupin called pointers from the side as the boy held up his wand. It took Ron a few moments
before he gathered his courage and shouted:

"Riddikulus!"

Crack! The spider's legs disappeared, leaving the large and helpless black body to roll around, shrieking pitifully.

"Good! Neville, up! Have courage!"

Ron went back into the crowd, ready to see what the Boy-Who-Lived feared most. Neville, meanwhile, had sprung
forward on bravado he clearly did not have, but was attempting to appear as if he had it as per Professor Dumbledore's
orders.

The boggart rematerialized as the Neville's Gran, tears running down her face. She wore a long green robe, a vulture hat,
and the large red handbag that Hasan had seen at the party.

"How could you, Neville?" she yelled in fury, "Your parents? You're lucky they can't understand a single thing anymore!
They would be so disappointed if they knew! You're a disgrace!" she spat, and choked on her own tears. "A disgrace!"

Neville began to tremble as Professor Lupin gazed on worriedly. Should he step in? Save the poor kid? No! Professor
Dumbledore had told him to let the child grow without interference (the hypocrite). Remus sighedandsilently prayed to
Merlin for reprieve.

Neville wet his lips, eyes darting around nervously on the edge of a panic attack. But before Lupin could do much more
than think, Oh, sod it!, Neville had pointed his wand and muttered-

"Riddikulus!"

Crack!

His Gran remained, but this time with a large smile on her face. A full-bellied laugh erupted from her stoic, and overall,
no nonsense features, and Neville found himself chuckling. It proved just how harsh his Gran could be, if her laughing
was hilarious for him.

Lupin looked on thoughtfully. That was certainly a turn of events.

Many of the following kids passed by quickly, having some (pitiful, Hasan thought) fear of snakes or dead animals.

The Slytherin girls went in succession: Tracey's was a wasp turned butterfly, Pansy quickly opted for an out, and
Daphne's was a drowning kitten. It was rather sad.

"Draco?" Lupin called, tearing his eyes away from the kitten turned lion, licking up the invisible pool it had previously
been drowning in.

The Malfoy heir rose elegantly from the crowd, head held high, wand at the ready.

"R-" He wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

The boggart transformed just then, from the lion to his dead parents on the floor. He leapt back in fright, never imagining
such a horror. He had at first thought of a divorce contract, something that would rip his family apart, but nothing near
remotely as gory as this.

"Ri-"

His parents' eyes snapped opened, hands reaching up towards Draco's face. The blonde froze, mouth agape. Their
faces were so clearly dead, but they continued to reach, as if they were inferi.

"R-" Draco shut his eyes as tears threatened to form.

Was this truly his worst nightmare?

Hasan considered stepping in, but decided that everyone had the right to face their own fears. He was surprised,
however, that Draco's family did mean so much to him. Suddenly the dagger, the extension of the Malfoy family, meant so
much more.

"Riddikulus!" Draco managed to scream, schooling his features into a typical cold, Slytherin mask.
Crack! His parents were forced into Auror robes, healthy again, and were making crude remarks about the style and fit of
the Auror trench coats.

"Typical mum." Draco mutter amused, as the blue-eyed witch rubbed at the hemming distastefully.

"Alright, who haven't I called?" Lupin asked, eyes grazing the crowd. Everyone shook their heads and backed away,
leaving one, long haired, jade eyed boy staring blankly at the front. "Ah, yes. Hasan."

The boggart had transformed back into a moon, as Lupin was the closest to it, hovering patiently as the next boy
approached. All eyes were on Hasan, trained on his wand which slipped discreetly from his sleeve and into his hand.

"I am curious." Hasan said aloud. "I wonder what it will be."

They gaped.

"You don't know? You didn't guess?" Hermione asked shrilly, thinking back to how horrified she would be if she had been
unprepared for combat. Hasan shrugged.

"It was rather an unspecific question." he said with a glance towards the werewolf. Lupin was looking at him curiously as
if seeing him for the first time. Hmm, so that's what Snape sees in him.

Taking a deep breath, Hasan strode forward, jade eyes trained dully on the moon. The boggart seemed to sense him for
it zoomed forward and changed with a crack...

The entire room gasped in one collective breath, mouths hanging open, eyes bugging out...

Harry Potter.

Well this is interesting, Hasan thought as he studied the twelve-year-old before him. Harry had grown to the same height
as Hasan, but with vibrant emerald eyes and uncontrollable, wild, raven black hair in place of his dull jade and long thick
brown. Boggart-Harry didn't speak, (thank Merlin!) But he smiled gently with a tilt of his head.

"Th-That's Harry Potter!" Neville screamed, mouth hanging widest of them all.

"Blimey! Do you see his scar? It's really him!"

"Look! He's got the scar!"

"And glasses!"

"Do you see those eyes?"

"Like emeralds!"

Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Draco were gaping at Hasan.

"That's Hasan's worst fear?" they echoed, frowning in various states of confusion.

Hasan glanced, rather bored, at Professor Lupin. The man himself was moving his jaw, up and down, grinding his
bones, though no words came out. He couldn't bring himself to speak. Finally, he just winced: This would be all over
school tomorrow... And how did Hasan know what Harry Potter looked like? It was all so confusing, so emotionally
agitating...this was James' son. The very first time he saw Harry since their deaths...and it was in the form of Hasan's
boggart.

Boggart-Harry-Potter raised a gentle hand and waved elegantly, a charming smile painted serenely on his face, like an
angel had painted it on a whim. The boy pushed back his wild fringe, revealing the pale skin of his forehead and the
bold, lightning bolt scar. The class ogled at it for a good minute before boggart-Harry moved on and brought his hand up
to his lips. With practiced grace that sent the girls hiding their blush behind their hands, Harry sent them all a single
flying kiss.

"Ooohh!" Parvati breathed, before promptly clutching her heart. Lavender Brown beside her simply melted.

"Isn't he gorgeous?"

"Beautiful, I'd say!"

Ah! Now it makes sense, Hasan thought. The attention. Being in the spotlight. The arrogance. With an easy flick of his
wand he said steadily,-

"Riddikulus."

CRACK! Harry Potter smirked one last time before he too disappeared, leaving behind a single golden ring which
dropped to the floor with a ping. Hasan's eyes widened. It was all true. He wanted nothing more than for Harry Potter, the
essence of Harry Potter to just disappear. Become invisib le. And it was hilarious, because he was Harry! And Harry
Potter only represented the golden boy image, when really Hasan was the real Harry Potter all along!

The room fell silent as they gazed on the golden ring, the intricate script running about it. It even seemed that the room
became depressed, wishing that they could gaze upon the charming Harry Potter all day long. When suddenly a peal of
laughter rang throughout the room. Hasan laughed! For the first time, he let a genuine peal of laughter slip from his lips.

"Oh! Oh! Merlin!" He doubled over, smiling broadly. "C'est vrai! (It's true)"

Crack! The boggart vanished in a great grey poof, escaping the tinkling laughter generated by this one boy!...

Silence.

The children gazed on puzzled, and yet disappointed. Harry Potter? It finally hit then and they stared at Hasan with a
mixture of shock and horror. How could this one boy possibly know what Harry Potter looked like when no one had seen
him in years? And why was he something to fear? And what was that ring?

Lupin loudly cleared his throat.

"Well done, Hasan." he said slowly, suspicious and sad and angry and happy and very very confused. "Well done."

Hasan remained impassive.

"Class dismissed." Remus said quickly, with a flick of his hands.

.oOo.

Remus sat with his head in his hands. What the hell had he just witnessed? Dumbledore was convinced that Harry
Potter was dead and continued to bolster Neville Longbottom as the Boy-Who-Lived. And yet, something wasn't quite
right. It seemed perfectly feasible that the prophecy had referred to Neville, but every time his name was mentioned in the
staffroom, there was a niggling feeling that they knew something Remus didn't. It wasn't so hard to figure out that Harry
Potter was missing and that Neville was a ruse. But then, why did everyone play along? Neville especially? The answer
came easily to his mind: Augusta Longbottom. Her approval meant everything. So then, if Neville couldn't save them,
then why weren't they looking for the Harry? Dumbledore insisted that they had been making annual trips to Surrey ever
since last year! But that was a pitiful excuse, even by Dumbledore's standards.

So why had Hasan's boggart turned into the Boy-Who-Lived? A perfectly healthy, twelve year old one at that. Was the boy
alive? Hiding?

Remus had a headache. The full moon was coming soon and Sirius was to substitute while he was out. Remus only
hoped that his mate wouldn't set the children back too much...but that was wishful thinking.

Again, Hasan shoved himself up to the forefront of his mind...Should he tell Albus? Decidedly not. With the choices the
headmaster had made lately, Remus was beginning to wonder if the man was just getting too old. Then Severus Snape,
the boy's head of house, perhaps?

Come to think of it, perhaps he should ask Snape about Hasan. He hadn't remembered a Castell in his time at
Hogwarts, so maybe the boy was not native to Britain? Perhaps his family taught that Harry Potter was someone to be
feared? A baby that could defeat a Dark Lord? Obviously dangerous!

But this explanation didn't seem to make sense either. The boy hadn't even seemed scared! Just-just blank. Oddly blank,
always blank. Even on the train...

Lupin sighed and got up with obvious effort. He might as well go down to see Snape now...for the Wolfsbane potion, of
course.

.oOo.
Snape had had an irritating day with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs causing their cauldrons to overflow. Then again, he'd
just make Ron Weasley (there were too many of them, he certainly didn't use his given name out of endearment) scrub
them during detention. Yes, that was a good plan.

After dinner, Severus had immediately swept to his private potions lab, attached to his office, to brew one Remus Lupin
one dose of Wolfsbane potion. He couldn't stand Albus' constant praise of the Golden Boy anymore! A pointed glare at
Lupin confirmed his appointment to pick it up later that night, but something in his eyes made Snape pause. Surely the
werewolf had nothing to confide in him! Him of all people! What with his mutt at home, why talk to the greasy bat of the
dungeons? In fact, why not talk to Albus if something was troubling him?

Gryffindors, they never made sense.

He ladled the finished potion into a discreet mug, and cleaned the lab with a flick of his wand, before exiting into his
office. His thoughts dwelled on Lucius, Altair, and Hasan. The Dark Lord wasn't far off the mark too, but mainly, he was
concerned about the first. During the summer, he had been at the manor nonstop, helping Draco with his transformation
preparation, and assisting Lucius (or rather, not assisting Lucius) in cracking the code of his flashbacks. After his visit
with Narcissa, however, he hadn't been called back once. No firecall, no spur of the moment floo visit, nothing. Had he
given up, just like that? Or had something happened that he wasn't prepared to share with Severus?

As for the Castell's, Hasan was acting as normal as usual, which was decidedly abnormal, and had not contacted him
so far for any reason. Then again, school had just started, so perhaps later? Altair was completely MIS. Raven, it
seemed, no longer knew the location of the man, and had refused taking the potions bag, period. It grudgingly did so
one day, just to return with it two hours later...it seemed Altair was cutting off all ties, even with Severus.

So Lucius was silent, Altair was missing...it was hard to believe they weren't connected. But there was no way Severus
could demand to know for sure. He couldn't even interrogate the kids, because they were sure to know nothing. Well,
maybe he'd ask Hasan, but he was sure that that would be a dead end.

Somewhere in his musings, the door had creaked open and the brown haired professor had slinked through.

"Lupin." Severus sneered, thrusting the mug into the other's hands. Remus blinked in surprise, but remained standing.
"What?"

The werewolf took a deep breath before starting. Severus raised a supercilious eyebrow.

"I...I wasn't sure who to tell." Lupin confessed quietly, locking and warding the room with a fluid sweep of his wand.

"Why not tell your mutt?"

"I think the word you're looking for is mate, Severus, but I haven't even told Dumbledore."

Oh, now this was interesting.

"And what would you be hiding from the headmaster that you would willingly tell me?"

"It's about Hasan." Remus blurted. Severus blinked.

"Indeed. Pray continue."

"And Harry Potter." Remus finished quickly.

Another puzzle piece?

"What?" Snape said sharply. "What has Hasan got to do with the golden boy?"

Remus swallowed. "I thought Neville was-"

Snape rolled his eyes, "Surely you've realized by now it's all a farce. A worthy decoy for time if we actually spent it on
finding that damnable Potter," Snape hissed bitterly, "but certainly not a flawless cover. Now how is Hasan related to
Harry Potter?"

"Er, that's the thing," Remus said, grabbing a seat across the desk. "I don't know. I've actually had to cast a low level
mass obliviation on the class...I'm not particularly proud about that, but I couldn't let them all go running, now could I?"

Ah! So that's why he couldn't speak to Albus: memory tampering of any kind was strictly forbidden. And Lupin was already
on his first and last strike because of what he was. Severus' lip curled, feeling more comfortable now that Lupin had only
come to him because of lack of options, and not because they were magically friends. Then again, why not ask Minerva?
She wasn't exactly happy with the headmaster at the moment and could probably keep a secret better than anyone...

"Lupin, slow down! What happened in class today?"

"Boggarts."

Snape's already pale disposition drained of color. "Hasan Castell's boggart-"

"Was Harry Potter, yes." Lupin finished uneasily. "As head of house, you see why I've come to you. Perhaps you can tell
me something of the boy's past?"

No, no he couldn't see why the wolf had come to him of all people. And no, no he couldn't tell of the boy's past! Snape
summoned his firewhiskey from the cabinet, uncorked it and poured a glass for each of them.

"Perhaps you can tell me everything." Snape suggested smoothly to the stunned wolf's face. Snape had offered him
alcohol. Severus Snape. Lupin took a long draught. Better, much better. His breath was warm as he began.

"He- Hasan was, well, I called him up, and it became Harry Potter. I would have recognized him anywhere. He's exactly
like J-james (stuttering because he was sad and because he didn't want Snape to toss him out), b-but I couldn't get a
good view of his face, I saw the scar and, well I was just too...in shock to move and get a 360 view." Remus defended
mildly, "But, he was charming. Exactly like his father...pulling back his black fringe to reveal his scar, and blowing kisses. I
was afraid some of the girls would faint..."

Potter! Bloody attention seeking Potter! Why bother looking for the boy when he was clearly off being pampered
somewhere- NO! This was just a boggart, just a boggart. Besides, Harry wasn't James anyway, not with the relatives he
grew up with. Snape took a deep breath, careful not to take any whiskey as he continued the interro- er- conversation.

"How did he rid of it?" Severus queried innocently. "What happened after the incantation, you did let him finish it, didn't
you?" Snape asked with a pointed look.

He was half worried that Lupin had stepped in. Half of learning about someone's fears was how they absolved them.

"Of course," Lupin said. "Everyone has a right to face their fears." He took another sip of the fiery liquid and Snape
noticed it was nearly empty. "Well, he shouted the spell and we all heard something small and hard hit the floor with a
'ping!' Hasan seemed to smile at it, I think it was a ring, oddly enough. The whole class went silent for a moment and
then, out of nowhere, he just started laughing."

"Thank you." Severus said finally, and escorted the man to the floo. Lupin seemed a bit bemused that Snape wanted him
out right away, but he was too sad to ponder the Potions Master's silly behavior. The DADA professor disappeared in a
flash of flames, leaving Snape to contemplate in solitude.

A ring? A ring? Where had he heard of a ring before? He stumbled wearily into his bedchambers, wondering when
everything had gotten so complicated. And of course, Albus didn't see a thing. Nobody did. Nobody but Snape.

He flicked his hair clean with a spell, but it would take more than that to get the years of potion residue off of them. With a
sigh, he dressed and lay wide awake in bed. And then it hit him.

The Lord of the Rings.

.oOo.

There was double Potions with the Slytherins the next day, and Ron was less than happy. He grumbled about it all
through breakfast until Hermione finally got fed up and left to go find Hasan at the Slytherin table. Ron shrugged,
callously as ever: He had really tried that first year to be more sensitive and polite, but even after helping the queer
quartet, they had left him behind in their moment of glory. His mother, Molly Weasley, had been very thankful he had not
followed the others, but Dumbledore was less than pleased.

He wanted Neville to make friends with the Weasley's, not shun them! Unfortunately, Molly hadn't cared about
Dumbledore's opinions when it came to the safety of her children, and Dumbledore sighed, 'another piece lost.' Yet, his
hope had revived with the introduction of the youngest Weasley. Miss Ginevra was a true treasure, really, latching onto
Neville Longbottom like an elegant parasite.

As Hermione left the Gryffindors in a huff, Neville's eyes had followed longingly after her, but couldn't move due to a
certain manacle- er, menace, known as Ginny Weasley. Believe it or not, Neville was quite happy to go to Potions
because it meant he would be seeing Hasan again. He wasn't sure why he had this desire to talk to him, but he had a
feeling it had something to do with yesterday's DADA lesson. Come to think of it, what had happened?

"Nevillllle! You didn't answer my question!" Ginny whined. "Why aren't you trying out for quidditch?"

"Oh, er. I don't feel too comfortable with dementors flying around." Neville said absently. This seemed to sate the young
witch for she stopped her infernal pouting.

"You know you can let yourself be Neville when you're around me." she said quietly. "I know I said it before, but I want you
to understand, I really want to be your friend."

"Er, yeah...wait, what?" Neville turned to her and she blushed.

"I live in a house full of guys. I don't have anyone to talk to!"

"You...do know I'm a guy, right?"

"Of course I do, silly! But you're not my brother. So what do you say, friends?" Her face was so sincere and hopeful that
Neville actually returned the smile.

"Sure, Ginny."

She sat right up and gave him a hug.

"Thanks, Neville." she breathed in his ear. Neville thought her warm breath lingered there a heartbeat longer than
necessary.

Across the table, Ron was still blabbering about Professor Snape to Dean Thomas, and anyone else who would listen.

"...and his hair is so greasy!..."

.oOo.

Luna was sitting next to Cho Chang again, listening to the same Cedric-Diggory-Loves-Me speech for the umpteenth
time. Her eyes caught Hermione as she huffed away from Ron, and she decided to go for a little trip too.

"Love is wonderful isn't it?" Luna asked to no one in particular and rose to follow the brunette witch.

"Ah! I know!" Cho said dreamily, not even noticing Luna was gone and instantly began chatting with Penelope Clearwater.
It just so happened that Penelope was also in the throes of love...

"Hello Luna, Hermione." Hasan murmured without turning around.

"Morning, Hasan. Ron is such a prat." Hermione growled.

"Tell me about it!" Theo called from across the table. Tracey smirked as Hermione's cheeks lit up. Theo smiled further
and invited the girl to sit with them, which she took up readily.

"Hello Hasan." Luna said sweetly.

Hasan decided it was only proper manners to turn around at this point in the conversation. He locked her with a warm
smile that never quite reached his jaded eyes.

"How did you know it was Luna?" Draco asked quietly.

Hasan shrugged. "Who else would say love is wonderful? The tables aren't exactly soundproof."

Draco accepted this and returned to his breakfast of waffles.

"Hasan," Luna whispered, "I sensed a mild obliviate during yesterday's DADA. I think it's best to leave things be. No use
stirring up oil and water, they'll just separate."

An ob liviate?

"Lupin..." Hasan breathed. Who else would have done this? And why? And how did Luna know anyway?

Hasan had, admittedly, thought it odd that no one had brought his boggart up yet, but hadn't suspected the werewolf to
be the cause of it.

Luna nodded. "I'm not sure what happened. Perhaps I'll explain it to you later." she said thoughtfully. "Oh, and b onne
chance with Potions today. Professor Snape is particularly informed, don't you think?"

With that, Luna waved good-bye and returned to the Ravenclaw table. Hasan poked at his sausage.

.oOo.

Double Potions with the Gryffindors no less! Professor Snape was not a happy camper. That irritating know-it-all, Miss
Granger continued to mumble instructions to Neville all class, and Severus was under strict instructions from the
headmaster not to interfere. How was this helping the boy to grow? The bushy haired witch practically did everything for
him!

On the other side of the classroom worked the Slytherin duo of Hasan and Draco, mincing diligently at the salamander
skin. Beside them were Tracey and Daphne, and then Theo and Blaise. Pansy was stuck with Millicent, and of course,
Crabbe and Goyle were botching their stew in the back.

Severus' keen onyx eyes passed discreetly over Hasan as he scanned the room. The boy's long brown braid fell down
his back, tied by a thick brown ribbon. He worked perfunctorily, yet perfectly, in a rhythm of a true potions prodigy. Perhaps
he could question Hasan under the guise of tutelage? Suddenly, dull green eyes were upon him and he stalked over to
inspect their potion.

"If you could see me after class, Mr. Castell?" Snape said nearly inaudibly.

Draco looked up surprised as Hasan gave a curt nod. Was Hasan in trouble? What was going on?

"I'll stay." Hasan whispered, and continued to flawlessly dissect the spine of his lionfish.

Draco added three drops of rose oil, and their potion turned from brown to a vibrant viridian blue.

"Weasley!" Snape barked, striding away with his robes billowing behind him. Ron gulped and accidentally added the
whole phial of rose oil. His murky yellow creation began to bubble violently, before dowsing him, his partner Lavender
Brown, and Seamus in a blistering red concoction. "50 points from Gryffindor! Mr. Longbottom, if you could escort them to
the Hospital Wing?" Snape snapped, whipping his wand around to get rid of the dangerous fluid.

Draco snickered in his sleeve but stopped as he caught Hasan's gaze. It wasn't even that Hasan was looking down at
him disapprovingly or judging him for him immaturity, but that he was so emotionless, it made Draco feel silly. Stupid
even. He stopped laughing awkwardly, quickly resuming the crushing of his figs.

Hasan shrugged. Maybe there was hope for the Malfoy heir after all.

Once the little cretins had run out of the room, Severus Snape stepped up to the very last occupant- Hasan Castell. He
was carefully slipping his Potions text in his bag, taking his time to make sure all his quills were stashed neatly, before
pivoting to face the Potions master.

Hasan waited patiently for the man to start, not really knowing why he had been held back, but making the correlation
between Luna's cryptic remark, and Snape's analytical gaze.

"Hasan, it has become increasingly clear that you show a great aptitude for potions."

Hasan...the man had used his name, his first name...and complimented him. Both of which were unheard of, made even
more special by the fact that Hasan had received but a handful of compliments in his life. (Not that Hasan really minded.
He enjoyed to blend in the background.) But then...both at once? Hasan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Clearly this
man was after something.

So the real question was: Should he confront the man about the boggart? Or see where his head of house went with
this?

The latter was decidedly more likeable.

"Thank you, sir." he said passively, biting his lip to appear less like a threat.

Snape nodded and continued. "Not many possess such skill and I would like to offer my private instruction to help guide
you."
"Are these lessons to take place inside your private potions lab?" Hasan wondered idly.

"Yes. Though I have yet to work out a schedule."

"So this was spur of the moment, Professor?" Hasan probed, "You have just come to the conclusion that I deserve
private training?"

"No, I have noticed it for a while now."

"Which is all very well, except that I don't believe you want to only talk about potions, is it Professor?" Hasan said lightly.
"You see, I'm going to have to gracefully decline your offer. But if it will make you feel any better, I am more than happy to
answer any questions that may be concerning you. For a trade, of course."

Severus only refrained from gaping at the child from his long years as spy. How had the child deduced everything so
simply? Well, there was no need to keep the charade up. Plus, he was too busy with everything going on now, to
designate a night every week for some farce.

"Alright. What is it you propose?" Severus asked, the Slytherin inside of him rejoicing at the prospect of an equal- no, not
equal! The boy was twelve for Salazar's sake!

"I want to cast a corporeal Patronus. I'm sure you could teach me."

A Patronus? That wasn't even remotely feasible! For a child? Then again, a voice said, he had learned to become an
Animagus.

"I could. But what use would it be if all my endeavors come to nothing?" Snape spoke quietly.

"You wish to know my Animagus form?" Hasan queried. "Perhaps I'll even give you a demonstration. When is the earliest
we can meet?"

Snape thought a moment. Dumbledore had him reviving some club or other, and Lupin needed a potion brewed every
month. Suspicion couldn't be aroused by meeting too often or too late...

"November 7th, three pm, on a Saturday." Snape replied. "And I don't need to explain to you to be discreet, do I Hasan?"

"Was that rhetorical or sarcastic?" Hasan wondered evenly as he grabbed his schoolbag. "Well, à b ientôt, Monsieur. I'll
see you soon."

.oOo.

What was left of September swept past in a flurry of homework and classes. Sirius Black had indeed made an
appearance, but only for a day, as Professor Lupin was eager to get back to teaching. He looked a bit worse for wear on
Tuesday, but otherwise betrayed no signs of serious illness. Hasan himself was impressed at the man's perseverance,
but quickly figured out that the man must be taking the Wolfsbane potion (accounting for the early recovery), and the most
likely candidate for brewing that was Professor Snape.

So then, why was it that Snape and Lupin seemed to resent each other? Pointedly ignoring each other during meals
despite sitting next to one another? When Black came in, Snape hadn't been to the Great Hall once. Hasan concluded
that Snape didn't like them much, probably from their own time at Hogwarts, and that Severus then disliked his birth
father, James Potter. It was pretty straight forward: Lupin, Black, Pettigrew, and Potter were friends. Snape shows signs
of extreme dislike towards Black, and tolerance towards Lupin, and it wasn't rocket science to guess that Snape felt
similarly for James Potter as well. Except for the simple fact that James was dead.

Hasan found these details rather annoying. Now his conjecture could be proven false by some wildcard like murder!
Hasan sighed. So what if Snape hated James Potter?...

.oOo.

The Halloween feast was comparably duller than last year. Orange and black streamers, animated bats, dramatic
ghosts...it was all back to normal, and Hasan found himself thinking what a great waste of time it all was. What with no
troll and all, the festivities were downright boring. He slipped from the feast with Draco, walking up a flight of stairs to
hide from the view of the Great Hall.

"We need to get familiar with our Animagus transformations," Hasan whispered evenly, "A place where Neville can
concentrate in peace and time stands still."
He had been wondering when they could begin training all through September, but hadn't yet found an adequate venue,
nor a time to converse privately with Draco without causing suspicion.

"I've heard of such a room, called the come-and-go room by the house-elves." Draco informed him thoughtfully. "I've got a
house-elf, perhaps he will know-?"

He looked to Hasan for confirmation before commanding, "Dobby!"

With a sudden crack, a little elf with large green eyes and floppy ears appeared before them, in a pressed white
pillowcase and holding a pan of...bacon?

"Oh! Master Draco, sir!" His already large eyes dilated to the size of tennis balls and he tried to vanish the pan before
questions arose.

"Wait!" Draco shouted, then changed to a whisper, "Wait! Dobby, where were you? We don't eat bacon." he told Hasan
beside him. He remembered vaguely a rant about unnecessary oils and fats...

The house-elf muttered some things, head twitching back and forth in a rather physical inner debate.

"Dobby was not forbidden to tell you, Master Draco, but Master Draco should be keeping it secret, yes? Oh! Bad Dobby!
Bad! Making requests of Master-!"

He scrambled to the stone wall and started banging his head profusely against it. Bang! Bang! Bang!

Hasan looked on with a shrug. Yes, he could see where Hermione could be offended, but this was Wizarding culture.
Ethnocentricity wouldn't get one anywhere. So he stood back and watched with rapt interest. They were nothing like
Tolkien elves...

"Uh! No, Dobby, quiet! Stop punishing yourself!"

Dobby stood rigid at once, but his pupils looked longingly towards the wall.

"Dobby, I need you to tell me where you were. I promise not to tell anyone without reason, alright?"

And then...his eyes began to water, "Oh, Master Draco is so kind! Dobby has been staying with his other Master. Dobby
be belonging to the House of Black so Dobby been with-"

"Sirius Black." Hasan supplied in a bored voice. "And the other Master? You mentioned plural?"

Draco turned towards Hasan sharply as if forgetting he was there.

"Oh," Dobby said. "I had been staying with the Professor Remus Lupin."

Draco staggered back. "Whoa so the rumors are true!"

Hasan, who had never heard the rumors, had already figured out that Lupin and Black knew each other. How well exactly
was now tacked onto their mental files.

"Dobby, do you know of the come-and-go room? I need to use it." Hasan asked briskly.

The house-elf nodded vigorously, "Yes, Dobby be knowing where the Room of Requirement is! It is on the seventh floor
corridor, on the left! Across from the portrait of dancing trolls!"

"Wait, Dobby, there's no room in that hallway-" Draco cut in suspiciously.

"It's called the come-and-go room for good reason, Master Draco. You must walk up and down the hall three times
thinking hard about what it is that Master Draco needs. Best be specific-oh!" Dobby made a hasty bow and retreated with
a, "Be having good luck!"

After the elf's departure with a crack, Draco turned disbelieving eyes to Hasan.

"He's been to see Sirius Black!"

"But more importantly," Hasan steered him on topic, "Is that we now have a room." A room that would encompass
anything you wanted...who else had found the room? Used the room? For what purpose? Did the teachers know? How
many of the students knew?
"Hello Hasan, Draco!" a kind voice broke them of their thoughts. They turned to find Luna walking towards them. "If it's
wanting to know the secrets of the castle, I think the twins would be helpful." She giggled and added, "but I'm not sure
why. Ask them for a spare b it of parchment after class I suppose."

Luna turned to leave but Hasan reached out to stop her. She raised an eyebrow in surprise and Hasan hastily continued.

"Four doses. Draco, me, Neville, you." He had to be discreet, for the walls had ears and eyes, but Luna was great at
giving puzzles if not equally great at solving them.

"Oh!" Her face brightened and she leapt to hug Hasan quickly around the waist. "I can learn with Neville! Sometimes he
works better when the attention isn't on him. Have you noticed?"

Luna practically skipped back to the Great Hall leaving Draco to gape in her wake.

"Perhaps we should wait a month?" Draco wasn't sure he could handle more Luna Lovegood.

"Sure, pourquoi pas? Why not?"

Draco sagged in relief, and together, they trudged down two flights to the dungeons.

.oOo.

Altair Castell sat with Tina on his arm while he stared at the letter in front of him. Lucius Malfoy was cooperating nicely,
but what now? Altair was never one to have a backup plan, but in this case, he had several. You could say this was his
life's work- that his entire existence- built up until this pinnacle of time.

Basically, how much should Altair tell him and how much would he learn from what was told? Or what he was told to do?
He began to write:

"Dear Lucius,

I will answer yours first on the faith that you will do as I wish. Fail to complete the task and you will no longer have this
source of information. Need I repeat this is a onetime offer?

Your memories have b een reaped to protect you from the knowledge acquired in those seven years. The glimpses from
them are the emotions and memories that have latched themselves to your very magic- in other words, not even
ob liviate can remove them completely."

Altair paused: was this too much information? Could he possibly know that Altair had timed these hints to occur within
the year? That Altair had been preparing him, enticing him, baiting him? No, Altair shook his head, Lucius was smart, but
not that smart.

"Yes, I am the man you saw in Diagon Alley.

And now for my request: How did you meet Narcissa? Answer the question, this is my first task."

Altair strategically refrained from mentioning why he had to know, but also allowed leeway for a lie. Through this first
question, Lucius would either lie (taking the answers and running...figuratively), or summon up the courage to take a
chance, go out on a limb, and trust this mysterious person and whatever his mysterious motives were. It was asking a
lot of the Slytherin, but Altair knew desperation, knew it very well, and knew that Lucius was so starved for knowledge
he'd do anything. (Even if it didn't make sense). And really, it wasn't even a hard question!

"Of course I will send my owls at night. I wouldn't want to worry your wife, after all.

Sincerely,

A. Castell"

He tied the letter to a rented owl (he rented a different one every time), and watched it fly out the window.

A/N- Did you like the b oggarts? And how ab out Snape and Hasan's quid pro quo? Ginny seems nice...for now...or
forever? And how ab out Altair?

Now the Vote!

Should Hasan:

a) remain Hasan

b) return to Harry

(There will b e a reveal, not soon though, b ut in the future. And when there is, I want to know if you would like me to switch
b ack to calling him Harry.)

-AND-

Should Dumbledore:

c) die from old age

d) be murdered

e) not die

f)_(other)_

Thank you!

Next Chapter: The Diary and the Room of Requirement

*Chapter 13*: The Diary and the Room of Requirement
Author's Note: 250 reviews? THANK YOU! Like before, I think there should be some incentive, eh?

300th reviewer gets to pick a plot point! (Life or death, pairings, etc...)

Results of the Vote: I'll keep Hasan's name, and Dumbledore will be be murdered.

We're starting to pick up speed! More Snape and Harry action coming up!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 13: The Diary and the Room of Requirement

A drop of ink splattered on the yellow page and faded.

"Hello?" Tom wrote. "Hasan, is that you?".

Hasan's heart picked up. "Oui. Good evening, Tom."

"I suppose it's evening. I can't really see."

Well this was interesting. He could write but couldn't see. His whole existence relied on what was written in the book, so
someone had to participate willingly.

"What can you do? What is your purpose?" Hasan scrawled.

"I can do many things." the diary replied cryptically. "And I have many purposes."

"That is impressive for a sixteen year old." Hasan wrote, stroking the book's ego.

"Not for the heir of Slytherin."

Ah! Amazing what a little praise could discover.

"The heir of Slytherin?" Hasan repeated on the page. "I am honored."

"So you are Slytherin? I'm glad to have a worthy owner."

Hasan bit his lip and waited. He had wanted to confront Voldemort himself about the blood book, after piecing together
that Altair was probably hunted down because of it. It wasn't really that hard to do. But it begged the question: Did Lucius
deny it? Or simply not remember it?

"What do you know of b lood purity?" he finally asked, having pulled out the black book beside it.

"Blood purity is everything." Tom wrote quickly, as if excited. "The purer the blood, the more powerful the person. Muggle
blood dilutes one's magical reservoir and leads to the ultimate dissolution of magic."

Hasan turned to his blood book and read the complete opposite. He copied the phrasing into the diary.

"And yet, it is the constant marriage within pureb lood families that directly causes the b irth of squib s. It is also noted that
even the oldest and nob lest family of Black has muggle roots, indicating that magic always sparks from a place where
magic previously did not exist."

The diary ate the words, and poured forth more. "I do not deny the knowledge you have, but instead seek to guide you in
the teachings of Salazar Slytherin."

"You knew Salazar?" Hasan replied in awe.

"I had talked with his familiar." Tom wrote back slowly. "He wished to purge the school of all but purebloods, you know. He
has a means, an influence even now to carry out his task."

"Like a monster?" Hasan wondered. Silence. Hasan tried again.

"Why do you agree with Salazar? Why do you hate muggleb orns and halfb loods, when it's proven they are equal in
power and full of fresh magic?"

"Who carried out this study?" Tom enquired presently.

"I do not know." Hasan replied.

"Liar!"

"I can only guess." Hasan said.

"Then tell me!"

"But I don't know."

Hasan narrowed his eyes. This book was demanding, scary almost. What was it hiding? Could it force him to tell?

"Why do you wish to know?" Hasan asked. "Are you going to destroy it? Destroy them?"

"I will do no such thing. I won't even know them." Dammit, the book knew there was more than one.

"That sentence is full of loop-holes." Hasan pointed out. "But perhaps we can make a deal?" If Tom was going to be a
pest about the authors, then Hasan might as well get something in return. It was one of the things about deals: both
parties felt that they were richer once they left. It helped establish ties, and usually gave away more information during
the process than a simple yes, no, or a name.

"What would you ask of me? I am simply but a fragment of a being. A book."

That sentence had given Hasan more information that he'd ever know. Fragment?

"I want answers."

"As do I."

"Shall we commit to a quid pro quo?"

"If I must." Tom scrawled less loopy and more sharply.

"Then I shall converse with you later."

.oOo.

Hasan quickly slammed the book shut, shaking for a reason he didn't know. He had felt, just for a second, that he would
be trapped, writing to Tom for all eternity. His fingers felt over the ancient cover, wondering how it could be that a fragment
of Lord Voldemort remained in this book to write to him. Perhaps he'd enlist Neville to use his invisibility cloak and sneak
into the Restriction Section? Salazar knew he certainly wasn't going to arouse suspicion. But if Neville were found, the
headmaster would probably let him look.

And that was probably the third-most reason he strongly and passionately disliked Albus Dumbledore. The first being
leaving him with his muggle relatives (he had actually liked reading at Mrs. Haydn's). And the second was being a liar
and forcing Neville into being the Boy-Who-Lived. But the third was being a bloody hypocrite! Talk about house unity and
favor the Golden Boy. Talk about safety and have dementors and Quirrellmort and a three-headed dog!

Hasan hated hypocrites, and the headmaster was perhaps the largest one he had ever seen. Almost on par with
Voldemort, whom had previously admitted to pureblood domination, while he was a bloody half-blood himself!

Yet, Hasan still needed answers from the man, er, diary, and so refrained from actually mentioning that part. If he wanted
something from someone, he'd have to give them a way to give it to him. It was much easier to tell Hasan his secrets
than it was to an enemy, and therefore, Hasan had no qualms with letting Tom continue his "Voldemort-is-Pureblood"
charade.

He turned his attention to the Black Blood Book and wondered if Altair or Lucius would inadvertently suffer for his
curiosity. Well, if Altair cared about his safety, he most certainly wouldn't have sent his son to Hogwarts (where the
teachers would remember him) with the book!

He sighed, shoved both books deep within his trunk and fell into sleep.
.oOo.

"Yeah, the rough looking guy beside Lupin?"

"You think?"

"That's Sirius Black alright!"

It was lunch, and Snape had the inimitable pleasure of sitting beside Lupin, who sat beside the mutt. How the
headmaster had looped him into this was inexplicable. Perhaps it was because he actually needed something from
Lupin, such as up to date intel on the Castell boy, that he actually cooperated. But the mutt certainly wasn't part of the
deal!

"Students!" Albus boomed. "As you may have noticed, we have a guest today!"

The man, up until the summer, thought to be a mass murderer grinned brilliantly with a wave. Most of the students had
already met him when he filled in for Remus, but that didn't mean they all felt comfortable with him. In fact, most of the
Hufflepuffs glimpsed up uneasily.

"Some of you have had the pleasure of having him as your substitute this year. For those who do not know, this is Sirius
Black, and Mr. Black has been cleared of all false allegations against him! He is here for the remainder of the year to
assist in reviving the Dueling Club in conjunction with Professor Lupin and Professor Snape. Anyone who wishes to
participate may sign up outside of the library from now until tomorrow at sever, when the first session will begin in the
Great Hall. Thank you."

Albus sat back down, eyes twinkling at Severus as Sirius not-so-politely reached over for the salt. Remus sat uneasily
between them, no wanting to die in the crossfire, and quietly ate his meal.

"A Dueling Club!" Draco exclaimed with alacrity. "There hasn't been one since Father went to Hogwarts! Hasan, are you
going to join?"

"Yeah, let's all go!" Tracey said brightly. The news was met with overall approbation from the entire hall and the volume
suddenly multiplied.

"Alright then." Hasan said apathetically. He had met Mr. Black once in the past, for the September full moon, but Hasan
had quickly grown bored of his stories about Azkaban. Black didn't seem to know what to do, preferring instead to
entertain the class, and find things to teach on a whim. But in a duel, would this man excel? And what if he were pinned
against Snape? Hasan was also curious to see Severus Snape in action, and Remus was certain to know a thing or
two.

"Good...Ohh! Here comes the muggleborn!" Draco groaned, not meanly.

And right on time, Hermione had plopped herself down beside Theo (her new favorite seat), and proceeded to talk about
ancient battle styles and techniques...

Hasan looked past her bushy brown hair and met eyes with Luna. She winked and gave a nod, before continuing to read
her pamphlet on Animagi. (Luna was actually quite talented when it came to animals.) Perhaps he'd have their first
Animagus session this weekend.

Presently, afternoon classes began, and Hasan trudged down to the greenhouses before he even got to sign up. He'd
do it later, he decided, pulling up the mandrake root, just one thing at a time...

.oOo.

How had he met Narcissa? What type of nonsensical question was that?

Lucius glanced towards the door and calculated the chances of Narcissa walking in on him at this moment. They were
slim; it was 1am and pitch black, not even Dobby was walking around at this time, though where he ended up these
days, the Malfoy's didn't know. And they didn't talk to each other about house-elves enough to know that the other did not
know...

Still, Lucius decided to ward the door before setting to work with his quill and parchment. Altair Castell's reply was
unfolded before him, the answers examined, the questions read. A sigh escaped him as he scoured his memory.

So...how had he met Narcissa?

They were married in 1979 and Draco was born in 1980. Surely they'd known each other for some time before then? At
Hogwarts?

The question was so abstract and yet so straightforward. How had he met his wife? Or how had they met at Hogwarts?
Or how had they met b efore Hogwarts? All pureblood families knew each other from some marriage or other, so it wasn't
so farfetched that they had met at a social gathering, and yet, Lucius could not recall a picnic or a ball, or any childhood
memories with Narcissa in them.

He moved onto the next scenario: How had they met at Hogwarts? Well that was simple wasn't it? She was sorted into
Slytherin and...had they met on the train? He assumed so...wasn't he with Bellatrix, three years ahead of them? It was all
rather hazy now, life did that to people.

Well, he couldn't very well call the Minister and arrange for Castell to go Azkaban. That was about as graceful as tacking
a target on your back saying 'Dark!' and the last thing he needed was suspicion flung on him and his family when he
was so...in disarray. Not to mention his deranged sister-in-law would probably laugh at him.

Alright, so how had he met Narcissa Black, right before their marriage? Her mother, Druella Black née Rosier, had
arranged a meeting with the Malfoy Lord. But why? If the numbers were correct, why not snap him up fresh out of
Hogwarts? Why wait seven years? Unless...unless of course he was seeing someone else? He shuddered.

If he was embarrassed at his inability to recall anything with an ounce of detail, he was horrified at the thought that he
probably couldn't at all. Seven years was a long chunk of time...very solid, very neat. So why was it that he could
remember Bellatrix on the train and not her sister? Why was it that he remembered she was in Slytherin but not her
sorting?

There were very specific details that had been tampered with in his memories. Only a Master Legilimens could have
manipulated all of this inside his head. So not only was Altair Castell a memory thief, but a Legilimens as well.

Bloody brilliant.

Should he contact Severus, the only Legilimens he trusted, to poke around his mind? Or would that agitate his brain?
Cause damage, make it worse? Lucius was all admittedly not that fond of people who knew more about him than
himself. Why should Severus get to know more about his state of mind than him?

He brushed his hands through his hair, rereading the letter start to finish. If Altair was to be trusted, these memories
were gone for his own benefit, but he couldn't trust Altair! The man was using his curiosity was leverage for whatever it
was he wanted...and yet, what the man had wanted was to know how he met his wife.

A thought struck him then. What Altair had really wanted was for Lucius to realize, on his own, how much he truly needed
Altair's aid in piecing together his life. A statement of dependence. How very...Slytherin of him.

"A. Castell,

I have attempted to recall how exactly I have met my wife, and yet I find my memories increasingly lacking. The clearest
response that I hope will meet your standards is that her mother, Druella Black née Rosier had introduced us prior to my
ultimate marriage to her in 1979.

I have three questions that I expect more satisfactory answers to: Why cannot I rememb er my wife? Were you aware that
your son holds the Malfoy dagger? Are you Dark or Light?

L. Malfoy"

.oOo.

The Great Hall had been cleared of all house tables, leaving a wonderfully large space for dueling. There was a large
turnout, all of the Slytherins in Hasan's year (including Crabbe and Goyle), and most of the Gryffindors, eager to see
Lupin kick Snape's arse.

Snape was dressed in his usual menacing black robes, a scowl on his face more prominent than usual. He entered
with Professor Lupin, who was wearing plain brown robes, with Black trailing behind them in a navy blue.

The students started at the doors, watching in awe as their teachers passed, looking more dangerous than ever. There
was no doubt in anyone's mind that there was going to be a fight tonight. A bloody fantastic one at that.

Neville and the Gryffindors were oohing over Lupin, while the Slytherins watched their head of house appreciatively. No
one seemed to know what to do with Black, for he was little known and a terrible substitute teacher. However, no one
could deny the fierce and obvious hatred flaring between Black and Snape, and so the kids took sides respectively.

There was a platform erected in the center of the hall, which the three instructors stood on, overlooking the crowd.

"Wow! We managed to scrape up quite a crowd, didn't we?" Lupin smiled to no one in particular.

"Indeed." Snape sneered.

"Well, for those of you who do not know, I am Professor Lupin, that is Professor Snape, and this is Mr. Black."–he stifled a
chuckle,-" Now, we thought it would be a good idea to start with a demonstration."

Everyone nodded appreciatively, knowing how hands-on Lupin liked to get.

"Professor Snape and I will duel, and then Mr. Black and Professor Snape will have a go. We'll start with a basic
disarming charm, expelliarmus. After that we will each split you into pairs to practice."

Lupin smiled as he and Snape got into position. Black was reluctantly waiting on the sidelines, yet had a hungry look on
his face indicating of excitement.

"Oh! I hope I'm not terribly late." Luna's voice piped up beside Hasan. He turned his head to find the girl with her head in
another Animagus book. Hasan made a mental note to alert Neville and Luna of their first session this weekend.

"Um, not really." Neville said, holding hands comfortably with Ginny.

"Are they together?" Hasan asked in surprise.

"Love is wonderful, isn't it?" Luna remarked dreamily.

Their attention was soon recaptured by the dead silence that fell around the hall. Snape and Lupin had divested of their
outer cloaks, revealing somewhat ordinary pants and shirts beneath. They strode to the center, bowed respectfully, and
returned to their respective ends of the platform. They shared a nod and the first spell was fired,-

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin yelled with a lunge. A red light ensued, blasting Snape's wand into the air. "Accio!" The falling stick
zoomed to Lupin's hand as the crowd broke out in applause. Lupin tossed it back, of course, but Snape's lip had curled
distastefully. His Slytherins were looking dejected, staring enviously at the whooping Gryffindors. Well, except for Hasan
and Luna. They didn't even appear to have processed anything.

"Remember, this is only a demonstration!" Lupin protested. "I assure you, if this had been a real duel, Professor Snape
would have had my head in seconds."

"Aww, don't try to make Snivellus feel better." Black called obnoxiously as he stepped onto the platform. Snivellus? Had
Hasan heard wrong? The fury rolling off Snape seemed to suggest otherwise.

"Then perhaps we should demonstrate a proper duel, Black?" Snape hissed venomously, striding forward to the middle
again. Neville squeezed Ginny's hand, obviously quite nervous about an angry Snape shooting off potentially harmful
spells. The Slytherins on the other hand seemed to draw forward in anticipation. Draco was smirking broadly, only
knowing that Sirius had been burned off the Black tree. Other than that, he knew nothing but the palpable animosity
between him and Sev. This would be interesting...

"Of course, Snape." Sirius mocked with a bow, "All spells go?"

Snape gave a terse nod and the two were off to opposite ends of the platform. Lupin still looked unsure about the whole
let-Sirius-have-his-way thing, but he knew that Snape could hold his own...he was really just worried that he'd have to
send Sirius to Poppy in a matchbox...

"Er, if we could just stick with Light spells please?" Lupin called out hopefully.

"Remus, surely you know that all spells can be made Dark, don't you?" Snape drawled before brandishing his wand at
his opponent.

"Oh dear." Lupin muttered and quickly created wards around the platform, to catch any wayward spell.

"Confringo!" Sirius snarled, missing, but carving a chunk out of the platform stairs which went flying into the wards.
Luckily, Remus' precautions shattered it upon contact.
"Incendio!" Snape countered. Hot, angry flames licked at Black, but he held his own and dowsed them with a muttered
Aguamenti.

"Diffindo!" Sirius yelled, slashing the front of Snape's sleeve. "Expulso!" He was swinging his wand arm about wildly,
missing the second my nearly a mile.

"Protego!" Snape roared. "Stupefy!" The shield charm blasted Sirius Black into the ward (which was spelled not to harm
living things) where he hit his head and groaned. After the second spell landed, Black was stuck frozen in his helpless
position as the Slytherins began to clap.

"Ennervate!" Remus shouted briskly, tearing down the wards with a swish.* "Well done!

Sirius got up with a hand to his head, while Snape smirked on with his glittering eyes.

"Now, I'd like you all to find a partner, and we'll be around presently to assist if the need arises." Lupin said.

There was a general chatting and moving around as everyone fought to find partners.

Ginny claimed the Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione partnered with Theo, Daphne and Tracey,...Luna looked longingly at Hasan
with her wide silvery eyes, blonde hair around her pale skin...well that was ironic, because so was Draco!

Hasan shrugged. He didn't have a preference either way.

"I'll just go with Ron. He looks lonely." Luna said softly, sad and yet not sad, as she walked sympathetically up to the
redhead. Hasan turned to Draco, jade eyes blinking innocently.

"Partners?" Draco queried.

"Okay."

The club practiced for a half an hour before they had to leave for curfew. Compared to the opening duel, their own spells
were much tamer, especially since the main focus was the disarming charm. Hasan found that he liked the club, always
having a great enthusiasm (which translates to apathy) for survival tools. Self preservation was possibly Hasan's top
priority, and the club also reminded him of training with Altair, divided by three...and then three again... Draco wasn't half
bad however, and even shot a jelly-legs jinx. Hasan had, of course, sidestepped the poorly aimed spell, but it had hit
Millicent Bullstrode and she practically danced into Pansy, with her wobbly legs, and crushed her.

After the meeting, Hasan managed to get word to Luna, but Ginny was still too close to Neville. Sighing, Hasan
wondered when he would next get to ask Neville to meet him for Animagus training, and also request for him to sneak
into the Restricted Section.

He was still suspicious about the whole fragment of Voldemort in a book thing, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt if he
talked to it tonight...

.oOo.

After Herbology, Hasan met Neville outside the greenhouse to talk about the Room of Requirement. Neville was
overjoyed at the prospect of being an Animagus, and Hasan was eager to transform again. He hadn't dared inside
Hogwarts...yet. For what if someone found him? Or reported him? Or worse, kept him?

Plus, it was good to use as leverage with Snape. Which reminded him, he had to go to Snape's office on Saturday.

"So you'll be there?" Hasan asked again.

Neville gave a nod. "'Course. I'll see you later, Hasan."

Later came soon enough, after classes and dinner, and Neville found himself pacing like an idiot in front of a clearly
unmarked wall.

"I need a place to study in peace and where no time passes. I need a place to study in peace and where no time
passes. I need a place to study in peace and where no time passes..." Neville muttered, eyes clenched tight. He pivoted
for the last time before gazing at the wall in awe. For it wasn't unmarked, but held a very distinct and elegant sort of door.
The Room of Requirement! Triumph rose in Neville's heart as he tugged it open.

Inside was a large, almost impossibly large to have fit in that wall, room, with comfy plum coloured couches, a cream
rug, tables, stacks of Animagus books, and mirrors.
"Whoa." Neville gasped. This most certainly was not here before.

"I know, lovely, isn't it?" Luna murmured. She had just stepped into the room, but held the door open behind her. Neville
raised a questioning eyebrow. "Oh! Yes, Hasan and Draco are coming in a moment."

It happened as she predicted, (the correct term would be sensed), and the two Slytherins came strolling into the Room
of Requirement, nods of appreciation making Neville flush.

"Wow, whoever made this did a pretty good job." Draco said.

"Neville did. He also made time stand still!" Luna eagerly replied.

Hasan turned to Neville and gave a smile a reward. "I like it. So shall we see how far you are, and then Draco and I can
run about here without a care."

"Sounds good to me." Draco said. "So just how far along are you, Longbottom?"

The four moved to the seats, Luna and Neville on one couch and Draco and Hasan on the other.

"Er, well thanks again for the present, Hasan." Neville began. "I can get myself to imagine me as an animal. But I don't
have a preference to what I want to be. It's your soul animal, right, because 'animus' is soul and 'magi' is wizard?"

Hasan nodded. "Yes, though you could have come to the same conclusion if you had used 'animus' as animal. But
basically, you still need to be able to envision yourself. You can't expect the magic to do all the work, can you? It needs to
feed off of your wants as a guide."

"Alright." Neville said slowly. "So you're a fox because you are...discreet, and Draco is a lynx because-?"

"He wants to be majestic and beautiful." Hasan supplied blandly. "Think about what being an Animagus would mean to
you. Would you use it to sneak around? Survive undercover? Or be able to kill?"

"Hasan?" Luna piped up. "If your Patronus and Animagus are the same, isn't your Animagus supposed to be protective?"

"Killing's protective." Draco muttered.

"That's a good observation, a nice correlation." Hasan said. "But I'm afraid that they aren't the same at all. You see, while
your Patronus can change, your Animagus cannot. One is your protector, one is yourself. Most witches and wizards find
that there is direct connection, however, most people are not Animagus, and only powerful witches and wizards can
create a fully corporeal Patronus. Therefore, the hypothesis is inconclusive."

"Um, English, please?" Draco asked teasingly.

"Oh, alright." Luna said. "Will you teach us to cast a Patronus? I saw you try on the train, but I'm sure you'll improve with
the right training."

Hasan bit his lip. So she had known, heard, or sensed what he was up to with Snape. But did she know what he was
giving in return? It didn't appear so, and Luna had had these types of divine knowledge before.

"Really?" Neville gaped. "That would be...wonderful, if you could!"

"Of course." Hasan agreed airily. "As soon as I am able."

"So where are you, Luna?" Neville asked. "You've been reading books nonstop!"

"I quite like animals." Luna confessed. "My father's crazy about them and mythology. Sometimes I think he confuses
himself and publishes odd things in his magazine...But I think I'd do well as something small, like Hasan."

"What? Is mine too big?" Draco joked.

"Yes." Luna responded seriously. "But very pretty."

The four continued to chat about where the two would go from here before Draco decided to transform on the spot.

"Sure, I'll continue to think." Neville said, drawing a book from the pile. "Whoa, Draco!" Their eyes snapped to the larger-
than-they-remembered pure white lynx. There was admittedly some black points at the ears, but no one really paid any
heed to them.

"Bonne chance, mes amis." Hasan bowed, changing into the fox with ease, and yet, he was different.

"Ooh! Hasan, you grew!" Luna gushed. "I think you aged. But now I won't be able to put you in my bag...perhaps in my
robes?"

Draco gagged in an imitation of a hairball and Neville burst into a fit of laughs.

"Maybe not." Luna smiled.

Hasan's emerald eyes blinked up at her before Draco batted him playfully on the shoulder. Hasan whipped around and
locked him with his gaze, then leapt onto his face. Draco easily tossed the fox off, but Hasan landed with all the reflexes
of his training, his birth, and his transformation. They started at it again, wrestling and growling, until Neville decided to
hide behind the couch to read.

Finally, the two were exhausted. They changed back silently, smiling at each other and shook hands. Hasan's grin didn't
quite meet his dull jade eyes, but Draco's were molten silver. The adrenaline, it was exhilarating! It was just like
quidditch, but better. Hasan much preferred to have both his feet, all his paws, firmly on the ground, especially when the
dementors were flying about. Also, if Sirius Black's (boring filler) story was true, then the dementors wouldn't have such
an effect on him.

As they dispersed, still right after dinner, Hasan's mind returned to the very first encounter he had had with the vile
creatures...what had happened? Who was that voice? And how were they related to the diary?

He wondered if he should try and get close to a dementor again, but then thought that was an idiotic way to die. He didn't
trust the headmaster's reassurances that they were perfectly safe and docile, with orders not to harm any of the
students...So who could he talk to?

Altair had given him strict instructions not to contact him (unless he was dying), and Severus didn't really need to be
concerned over his mind, right? Besides, he didn't even know if Severus was a Legilimens and he didn't exactly want
someone else poking about in there. Not with what he knew. Not with what he hid. If Snape knew he was Harry Potter, not
only would he probably run to the headmaster, but he'd hate him for being James Potter's offspring! Lupin and Black
would also know, Hasan remembered with horror, and he certainly didn't want to be close to people just because they
knew his dead father!

Then...perhaps the diary?

.oOo.

It was finally the weekend and Severus Snape couldn't have been happier. He had been in his chambers all morning,
basking in his well-deserved break from all the dunderheads in the school. Hasan was set to arrive at 3 and Snape
needed all the time he could get.

Altair was still missing. Dumbledore couldn't be budged on the issue of searching for Potter. Lucius was unresponsive.
And to top it off, blasted Dumbledore and his epiphany of a Dueling Club. Well, last meeting hadn't been so bad; Sirius
was still licking his wounds in the morning. Snape thought with a smirk. But even if he still hated Black, he hated it more
that he was actually beginning to...be fond of Lupin. He had just finished brewing the Wolfsbane for the month of
November, and hopefully he could relay some information gleaned from this meeting with Hasan, to receive more
information from Lupin...on Hasan. How had his life come to this? He didn't even pay this much attention to his own
godson, and that was saying much, because he practically analyzed Draco's every move.

A knock at the door came exactly as his clock struck 3.

"Well, well, Mr. Castell, eager to be here, are you?" Severus greeted as he flicked open the door with his wand. Hasan
stepped into the office gracefully, brown braid thrown across his right shoulder, and jade green eyes flickering dully
beneath his lashes.

"Not particularly." Hasan replied dryly. He shut the door behind him and sat down in his usual seat. Snape swallowed.

"I was actually hoping that we could move to be a little more comfortable." Snape strode over to where his chambers lay,
tapped the wall while muttering the password, and a door appeared similar to the Room of Requirement. Snape raised
an eyebrow; the boy didn't move. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, just get in here!"

The interior of the lodging was rather...nice. What with stone walls, hanging tapestries, bookshelves, a coffee table, red
rug and brown leather couches. There was also a comfortable looking armchair to the side which Hasan immediately
gravitated to. Severus settled himself on the end of one couch so as to better converse with the queer child.

"Do you live here all the time?" Hasan asked.

"Yes."

"You own no deeds to any other properties?"

"I do." Snape said. "But let us talk about you."

Hasan's eyes widened fractionally. "I'm not very interesting at all."

"That's to be determined." Snape replied smugly. "Now, what is your Animagus? And who are you planning to use all the
doses on?"

"Shall I show you?" Hasan asked, and after barely receiving the beginning of a nod, a little black fox sat in the seat Hasan
had just occupied.

Snape's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "An adolescent fox?"

Well, that was one way to put it. Hasan raised his head, and Snape had another heart attack. Those emerald eyes. He
had seen them once in the chamber with the stone...and then when Hasan had asked, they were the exact shade as the
Avada Kedavra. Compared to his normal jade, these were downright fatal. Hasan sensed his unease and shifted back
fluidly.

"It appears the potion has worked." Snape said thickly.

"Thank you." Hasan said. "It was above my ability."

Well obviously it was above the boy's ability. It was a statement, not a compliment...and wait, the boy knew this. He wasn't
flattering the man, just speaking.

"And the other question?" Snape pressed.

"And the Patronus?" Hasan countered. The boy was so damning methodical! It had been Snape's turn, now it was
Hasan's, and Snape was positive the boy wasn't going to divert from this pattern.

"The incantation is 'Expecto Patronum.' Now, who are you-" but the boy was shaking his head. "What?" Snape growled.

"I asked to learn to make a fully corporeal Patronus." Hasan reminded him. "I can already cast a wisp. Snape started in
surprise but quickly caught himself.

"Show me." he demanded.

Hasan slid his wand into his hand and muttered the incantation. A silvery mist came from his wand, but nothing remotely
in the shape of an animal. And yet, Snape was looking for all the world as if he had.

"Impressive." he said finally. "What memory did you think of?"

"Is that your question, Professor?" Hasan asked.

"No, this is helping you to learn." Severus sighed. Hasan thought about it a minute, deemed it a stretch, but nodded.

"I don't." Hasan replied.

"You don't what?"

"I don't think of anything. Am I supposed to?"

Severus was full on gaping now. "Of course you're supposed to! How else would one make a Patronus?" Hasan arched
a brow and Snape continued. "You must think of the happiest memory you can remember. Let the joy wash through you."

It was comical really, how Severus was talking of joy and yet his face was so stern and condemning.

"Happy?" Hasan murmured. "Like the mirror of Erised?"

"I-" Snape frowned. "The mirror shows your heart's desire. Not a memory."

Hasan bit his lip. "Right..." And yet, Hasan was positive that there was a memory somewhere with a bright emerald
light...

"Now, if you could answer my initial question?" Snape asked impatiently.

Hasan tilted his head to the side. "The doses? That hardly seems fair. I'd be indicting my friends. And besides, you gave
me what I needed."

Snape's glare stopped his thoughts in their tracks.

"You agreed, Mr. Castell."

"Oh, please do humor me, Professor. We're Slytherin after all." the boy smirked. "But as you wish: Draco Malfoy, Neville
Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood."

"Why would you include the Longbottom boy?" Snape burst out appalled before he could help himself. Neville still
managed to botch every other potion and that was with the muggleborn, Hermione's, help.

"Because he's the Boy-Who-Lived." Hasan answered nonchalantly, watched Snape's hardening demeanor. "Of course,"
Hasan continued, knowing he was treading in thin ice, "so is everyone else, when it comes down to it."

Snape exhaled slowly and Hasan knew, then and there, that Snape at least knew Neville was a farce. Did all the
professors know? Or had Snape done some private investigating? Was Snape in Dumbledore's 'inner circle' or was
Snape rogue?

"What are you suggesting, Mr. Castell?" Snape asked lightly.

"You know very well." Hasan said, and left it at that.

The two stared at each other, onyx against jade, before Hasan asked presently, "How are you supposed to deduce the
happiest memory?"

Snape seemed to unfreeze himself. "Must I explain everything?" he sighed.

"But my memories aren't sorted into happy and unhappy." Hasan protested with wide eyes. "They are sorted into was
and are, and me and others, and important and not important. Why would I have happy and unhappy?"

Snape stared; how hard was it to find a happy memory? It didn't even need to be remotely passionate if the boy managed
to make a non-corporeal Patronus.

"Right now, what is the happiest memory you can possibly recall to mind?" Snape asked, deciding to walk Hasan
through from the beginning. "Any memory!" cried Snape, growing desperate. "Getting Raven, perhaps?"

Hasan sighed. He really couldn't do this now in front of the professor. He would have to sit alone in a quiet place and
search though his mind. It required absolute focus, and he didn't trust the professor enough to let his guard down one
bit.

"May we resume next time? I need time to think." Hasan delivered the ultimatum. "By the by, your chambers are very
nice...Au revoir, Professor!"

.oOo.

Severus was left in deep thought for hours after the jade eyes boy had left. No happy memories? What person had no
happy memories? And what type of person could cast even a wisp of a Patronus without a memory, happy or otherwise?

It made sense though, that Hasan with his dull eyes, felt as little as he appeared to have felt. Yet as head of the Slytherin
House, Severus knew better than most how a mask was designed and utilized. Hasan might not appear overjoyed, but
that didn't mean he was a doll!

But Hasan had seemed so genuine. He had agreed to this exchange with Severus to learn how to make a corporeal
Patronus. It didn't make sense for him to pretend he couldn't cast a Patronus...unless he wanted to hand Snape the
information. But even that didn't make sense! Slytherins did things for their own benefit; what would Hasan gain from
Snape's being well-informed? What power did Snape have that Hasan wished to use?
Severus Snape was inches away from summoning his firewhiskey, when a knock signaled Lupin's arrival. He was never
so happy to see the wolf in his life! A wave of his hand opened both his office door and his chamber door, and Snape
called out an invitation for Lupin to join him in the sitting room.

Lupin's mildly surprised face peaked into his chambers, before the rest of his body followed.

"Severus?" Remus asked, concern evident in his voice. He'd never been invited this far inside Severus' quarters before,
as it was a privilege only given to friends, and Remus was definitely not what Severus Snape considered a friend.

"Your potion's on my desk." Snape informed expectantly.

"I saw...I'm sorry, I haven't noticed anything odd about Hasan lately. I am worried, but not as worried. It's been a while and
he blends in with all the others. Although I did see him with Miss Lovegood at the Dueling Club. She's a first year, isn't
she?"

"Yes." But this was nothing knew: If Hasan intended to give her a vial of the Animagus potion, then they must have been
friends..."Lupin," he began again. "Are you positive that Hasan's boggart turned into a ring?"

Lupin nodded, then frowned. "That's what it appeared to be."

He wasn't sure where this was going, but Snape wasn't known to jump around topics. Obviously Snape knew something
Lupin didn't. "What am I not seeing?"

Severus looked up at him and locked his gaze.

"Are you aware, Remus, of a popular muggle book series known as The Lord of the Rings?"

Lupin blinked in surprise. While shunned from Wizarding society, Lupin had immersed himself in muggle culture and
had indeed learned of the book. Yet he hadn't had the time to actually read it.

"Yes. The premise if it. Wait a minute, Snape, do you mean to suggest that the ring Hasan conjured was the One ring?"
Lupin asked in disbelief. "There are other possibil-"

"I'm sure," Snape interrupted snidely, "But pray, what is the One ring and what importance does it have to the series?"

"Well, it's the basis for all the books." Lupin started, never having imagined he'd be explaining the plot of a muggle book
series to Severus Snape of all people! "The prelude, The Hobbit, er, a short man creature, is about Bilbo who finds the
ring of power. The trilogy focusses on the journey to destroy the ring in Mordor, all in order to keep it from the evil wizard,
Sauron."

Snape was still frowning. "And the reason everyone is bent on destroying it?"

"Well, it holds power, amazing power, but it's dark and seductive. It commands all of the lower rings too, and the nine
dead human bearers called the Ringwraiths or the Nazguls. You see, people can't see these Nazguls unless..." It
seemed Lupin had just realized something for he winced and looked away.

"Yes?" Severus pressed, reluctant to admit he sounded somewhat desperate. Remus had obviously had an epiphany,
so what was it that was so alarming? Or so obvious?

"Well, you can't see them unless you wear the ring. But throughout the prelude and to all the others characters, the ring
was only known to render the wearer invisible."

Thanks for all the great reviews last chapter! That's a record high: 51. Salazar you guys make me so happy XD

Here's a shout out to all you lovely people:

Nagilover4ever, Mouichido13, mizzrazz72, kffs, EtherealKnight21, Slytherin of the Sea, Wishfull-star, Yinko, The
AsianWeasley Twin908, krabi(guest), DrakeRise, matechan, Separ, Vanex, geetac, Takei Daloui, Nanchih, Lord worth,
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Noir, huntress19, Guest, tnpoon, Eryalk9, A(guest), Kairain1979, jgood27, Araytigre, Ch Vayne, Guest, mabidiso,
bibglo,Neidres(guest), Thalimus, expiry 4.23, preeves, Professor King(guest), May a Chance, Agnes(guest),
medward, Guest, The Dark One Rising, Samsonkeezo(guest), and Post U Later

Thanks from the bottom of my heart!

A/N-

Ohhh! So Snape knows a little bit of LotR fanlore! Harry's on his way to casting a patronus, any guesses? The
Dueling Club is starting up, and Lucius is a little confused. How long will it take for Snape to figure out that those
emerald eyes are more than a little hint?

A/N2: My wonderful b eta greyhoundxx is unable to beta for a while...please, if anyone would like to proofread even one
chapter, PM me or mention something in a review. Thanks so much!

PLEASE REVIEW!

Next up: Draco's Curiosity

*Chapter 14*: Draco's Curiosity
Author's Note: Thank you everyone for the lovely reviews! I cannot express how grateful I am to have awesome
readers like you! Like before, the 300th reviewer gets to pick something. (I'll contact you through pm.)

Just a few notes before we get started: I'm in need of a beta again. So I apologize for any errors I haven't caught in
this chapter. Also, thanks to Professor King who has kindly volunteered to tackle chapter 15. Beta-ing one chapter is
also extremely encouraged.

Please enjoy!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 14: Draco's Curiosity

It was the beginning of December and it was cold enough now that Tracey had just pulled on a blue cloak, overtop her
witches robes. She sat alone on the Slytherin couch, wondering where on earth everyone was these days.

Theo had been spending a suspicious amount of time in the library, while Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken to
stalking Neville and confronting him at opportune moments.

Daphne and Millicent were in the common room, however, playing Exploding Snap in the corner, while Blaise Zabini and
Draco engaged in a round of wizards chess.

But all of the older students were out on a Hogsmeade weekend, the ones without permission making themselves
scarce around the school, and the younger snakes were too intimidated by the second years to hang out in the common
room.

"Hey, Draco. Have you seen Hasan recently?" Tracey asked presently to the near empty room. The blonde's head
snapped up in surprise and he gave a careless shrug.

"It's not like I keep track of him!" Draco defended himself. "But the last time I checked, his dorm room was still closed."

He jumped his knight and stole a pawn.

"Well, you do spend an awful lot of time with him." Blaise remarked. "Do you think he's writing letters?"

Letters to who? Hasan was particularly tight-lipped about his home life, and Lucius had been extremely unspecific.
Watch out for Hasan, yeah, clear concise instructions...And while it was a possibility, Draco had the distinct feeling that
Hasan was not indeed corresponding with anyone.

"Wouldn't he have brought Raven, though?" Daphne enquired. "I saw her this morning at the Owlery while sending a card
to my aunt. Funny how last year we scarcely saw the little bird at all."

"Well, if he barely sent post last year and his owl was gone, then he's certainly not sending anything now with his owl
here." Blaise said. "So..."

"So what could he be doing?" Tracey repeated. "But, I guess it doesn't matter. We all need privacy now and then. Hey, I'm
going to the kitchens, anyone want to come with me?"

"Oh! I'll come!" Millie screamed, hopping up with joy. Daphne nodded too and repacked the game with a flick of her wand.

"Yeah, suppose we get to try more of those treacle tarts? They were lovely last night!"

The three girls exited the dungeons, leaving Blaise and Draco alone in the common room.

"Checkmate." Draco said in a bored tone of voice. His bishop had taken down his queen and was eagerly snarling at the
frightened king.

Blaise sighed. "Yeah, alright. You win again, Draco." He glanced around the common room and shrugged. "I think I
should drag Theo out of the library now. His brains are going to be fried before Monday."

Draco nodded dumbly. "Sure." He knew that Theo and Hermione often met to study in the safe vicinity of the library, but
also knew that Blaise was still uneasy about the whole mudblood thing. Once Blaise was out of the room, Draco moved
his bishop to take the king; the bishop smiled archly and beat the king to dust.

A wand wave later and the pieces were whole again, sitting neatly and inanimately in their box. Draco sighed and
glanced towards the dorms. He might as well.

Draco lifted himself off the armchair and headed up the stairs, finally reaching the second level and staring at Hasan's
closed door. What was he doing in there? Did his father have a basis to be suspicious? Or was Draco being unfair and a
terrible friend?

Then again, Draco was lonely. Everyone had run out on him, and while Longbottom would probably welcome his
company, he didn't have a whole lot of real friends to turn to.

He raised his arm and knocked thrice in quick succession, listening intently for a response.

"Hasan?" he called, knocking again.

"Oh, come in, Draco." Hasan's soft voice floated out, and the door opened slowly.

Draco peaked his head around inside and noticed Hasan sitting at his desk, quill in hand, and a book sitting in front of
him. So, not a letter then.

"What are you doing?" Draco enquired, stalking closer to the boy.

"Nothing of importance." Hasan said. "Unless you can specify your question."

The boy seemed wholly absorbed by what was written on the page, but as Draco peered over his shoulder, he saw that
the page was blank!

"Er-"

Hasan suddenly snapped the book shut and turned to face the Malfoy heir.

"May I help you?" he asked simply. Not accusingly and yet not politely.

"No, we were just concerned."

"There's no need to be." said Hasan, visibly relaxing. "Have Luna or Neville contacted you for the next Animagus
meeting?"

Draco shook his head. "No, though I think we should have it next month, the day after the Dueling Club."

Hasan nodded slowly as if considering.

"That sounds delightful." Hasan said blankly. "Perhaps we can alert them with a charm in the future." He stared down at
the book a moment before biting his lip. "Have you heard of the Protean charm? Is it dark?"

"Protean? How did you-" Draco asked before his eyes fell on the book. "Hey, isn't that Father's? I've only seen it once or
twice, lying on his desk or something, but there aren't many Tom Marvolo Riddles, are there?" Draco observed.

"What is given as a gift no longer belongs to the original owner." Hasan smiled lightly. "Now the Protean charm?" he
asked briskly.

"Well a charm's a charm. It isn't really light or dark, but it certainly isn't what people consider bad." Draco said slowly.
"That's actually a good idea. Suppose we give Lovegood and Longbottom something with the charm?"

"Precisely." Hasan said. "So what do you suppose we can use? Something that everyone has and won't cause
suspicion?"

"A piece of jewelry?" Malfoy suggestive hopefully.

Hasan sighed, leave it to a Malfoy to think that jewelry was inconspicuous. Then again, Luna was a girl, and Neville was
bound to wear adornments (or have a few quirks) as the Boy-Who-Lived...Draco certainly wore enough shiny things, and
that was only because he was pureblood! Neville could surely get away for being both.

"I believe that will be possible." Hasan concurred thoughtfully. "So will you please tell them?"
Draco nodded slightly, "Yeah I'll go right now." He knew a dismissal when he saw one, and Hasan was definitely tiring of
his company. (Not that he was too enthusiastic to begin with.) Draco backed out the door and shut it softly behind him,
before strolling down to the library. Hopefully Gryffindors and Ravenclaws liked to read...

.oOo.

Draco strode purposefully down the corridors, eyes open for the Lovegood-Longbottom duo. He knew that the
Lovegood's were an old pureblood family, but somehow they had dropped from so called 'good' society when the
Quibbler began to publish drivel about Voldemort being a woodland fairy...

"Oof!" He stepped back, blinking in surprise.

"Malfoy!" Ron snarled, scrambling to retrieve his wand. "Watch where you're going you spoiled prat!"

"I could say the same to you, Weasel." Draco drawled, brushing imaginary Weasley germs from his person. Ron's face,
if possible, got even redder.

"Expel-!"

"What is going on here?" Black boomed, skidding into the hall. His eyes caught sight of Draco and he straightened up
considerably. "Malfoy!"

Oh, this was not good.

"Malfoy was about to attack him, sir!" Lavender Brown piped up from the corner, cheeks cupped by her hands. "I saw the
whole thing, Mr. Black! Malfoy nearly knocked him down!"

"Y-yeah!" Ron shouted, jutting his chin out. Draco fought not to roll his eyes.

"Just because you can do everything you want at home-!" Sirius started.

"-Hey! What's going on here?" Lupin entered the scene, looking around with mild interest. His eyes caught Draco on the
receiving end of Sirius' rage and something akin to recognition flickered within those soft brown depths. "Siri?"

Sirius sighed and seemed to deflate. "Lavender saw the whole event play out-"

"-oh, not all of it." Lavender quickly amended, uncomfortable under Lupin's enquiring gaze.

"Then what did you see, Miss Brown?" Remus asked, efficiently cutting Sirius off.

"W-well, I." Lavender gulped. "I just saw Ron bump into something."

Lupin nodded kindly. "I see. And this thing would be Mr. Malfoy, correct?"

Draco stared at the professor, wondering if he was going to be believed against four Gryffindors. No one liked snakes, it
was common knowledge.

"Siri, if Ron needs it, will you please escort him to the Hospital Wing to get his...injuries looked at? Mr. Malfoy, if you would
come with me please."

"But Remus-!"

Lupin fixed him with a pointed look, and Sirius led Ron away with a sigh.

"You know I-" Draco tried, striding less than proudly behind the DADA professor.

Surprisingly, Remus turned and smiled. "Relax, Draco. Professor Snape just wishes to talk to you."

Draco was anything but relaxed.

.oOo.

Lupin led a stoic (panicking) Draco Malfoy down to the Potions master's office with a smug, almost laughing grin on his
face. Draco, however, was stiff as a statue as the wolf knocked and Severus opened the door.

"What is it now, Lupin?" he snapped. Remus smiled and moved aside to reveal the blonde boy. Severus froze.
"I found Draco fighting with Ron in the corridor."

Draco didn't even try to protest. Sev would believe him, he always did.

"Indeed." Snape said, lips barely moving. "Well get in, Draco. If you'll excuse us?"

Lupin left obediently, though he had a rather distinct spring in his step.

"Sev?" Draco ventured, "Can you believe that the Weas-"

He stopped short as Snape raised a brow. "Draco, you're not here for that."

"...Oh..."

Severus broke into a smile that actually made him look human. "Why don't we sit in the sitting room?"

The two made themselves comfortable on opposite chairs, the fireplace dull and empty between them.

"Why am I here?" Draco asked. "And why does Lupin know?"

Severus sighed. "It's not important that the- that Lupin knows-" Goodness! He was really tired if he could slip in front of
his godson! "-What's important is that there's something I need you to do for me."

Draco's silvery eyes bugged out of his head. Sure, this was his father's best friend, his own godfather, but right now
things were looking pretty hazy.

"Like what?" Draco asked slowly. Snape was taken aback by how suspicious the boy sounded, when only last year he
would practically have jumped at the chance to strut his authority and connections.

"Your friend Hasan Castell-"

"Yes what about Hasan?" Draco asked a bit too quickly.

"If you could let me finish, you'd know." Snape said as kindly as he could, whereas if he was dealing with Longbottom,
the boy's head would be on a platter right now. Draco was about to apologize but shut his mouth, instead watching
Severus with curiosity. "Has Hasan ever mentioned a series of muggle books known as The Lord of the Rings?"

Draco licked his lips. "Yeah, he got the whole series for Christmas last year. From his father."

Now it was Snape's turn to be interested.

"Indeed...do you know where he keeps them?"

"Yes, but why do you need them?"

Ah! So the boy did inherit a brain after all.

"Hasan is particularly quiet about his family isn't he?"

Draco nodded. It was just one of the things he always wondered about. Hasan was practically included in his family, so
why was Hasan always so snobbish about not sharing anything about his?

"Yes." Draco admitted bitterly.

"I need you to bring me those books."

"What?" Draco exclaimed. "Why? Some people like their privacy, you know..." He didn't know why he was defending
Hasan on a point that he himself would like to yell about, but this was different. Severus was an outsider. This was
between him and Hasan.

"Privacy means nothing when it comes to safety." Snape said lightly. "I cannot tell you why I need those books, but that I
do. Draco, look at me."

Reluctant silver met obsidian and Draco relented. He was a little bit upset at Severus' prying, but even more upset by the
fact that Hasan was keeping things from him. "Alright, Sev. But this is the last time."

He nodded curtly. "Have them on my desk before dinner. And thank you Draco."
"Of course," Draco answered slowly, before walking from the room.

The request was odd, Snape had to admit it, but it was necessary. It was not just the books that Snape needed, but
possible clues scattered about it. When Severus was in Hogwarts, he had inscribed millions of little hints in his Potions
text, improvements, inventions, spells...but if one read carefully enough, one would be able to piece together a small
diary of his life. Who his enemies were, what had happened to him, what had happened to them. He was sure the book
was around here somewhere, and he knew he could just summon it, but some part of him actually wanted someone to
find it...someone to read what he had written, someone to share in his discoveries, and someone to understand him.
But this was all wishful thinking. He hadn't even tried summoning it yet, and hadn't the faintest idea where it could have
gone...perhaps it was best.

But now wasn't really the time to get nostalgic. He had papers to grade, essays to mark, and oh! Dear Salazar, another
Dueling Club to prepare for.

.oOo.

Hasan tucked the diary beside his Lord of the Rings books, inside of his drawer. He thought a minute, wondering if the
Protean charm would really be worth trying, and what it would be worth trying on. And then it struck him, what better piece
of jewelry to add the charm on but rings?

The idea was so perfectly brilliant that Hasan actually jumped for joy. He could transfigure rings easily. He grabbed four
tissues from his trunk and tapped them each with his wand, "Creanulo! Proteanus!"

The tissues shriveled into rings, hardening and gaining that silver gleam before glowing red with the Protean charm.
Tom had said to push magical intent into the object in order for it to work. It made sense, but Hasan was wary about
giving something to anything. Then again, he used to wand on a daily basis and there were innumerable curses one
could place on a wand. Hello, this is Hasan, he thought, and gasped as the words engraved themselves on the metal
rings. They burned softly, enough to alert the wearer of a message, yet not enough to actually harm someone, before the
message dimmed and faded.

"Fascinating." Hasan hadn't imagined it would work so easily! He tucked three in his robe pocket, sliding one onto his
right hand ring finger with ease. As a last thought, he cast an adjustment spell on them to fit the wearer, before heading
out in search of Luna, Neville, and Draco.

He passed an irritated Ron with a furious Lavender by his side.

"Damn Lupin." Lavender was muttering, all the while attempting to hold hands with the boy. The twins were further down
the corridor, waving to Cedric Diggory and his girlfriend, Cho Chang.

"Aww, poor Ronald!" Fred cooed, messing up Ron's hair fondly.

"Don't make fun of him!" Lavender screeched, hugging Ron in a headlock.

George looked to his twin and grinned.

"Fine, we've got much more interesting stuff to do anyway, isn't that right, oh brother of mine?"

"Yes, indeed it is George! Hogsmeade is awaiting!"

"But mum didn't sign your forms!" Ron yelled. "Oh, forget it!"

The twins skipped jovially past the couple before stopping in front of a blank faced Hasan.

"Hey, what are you doing out here? Aren't you little snakeys in your common room all the time?" Fred teased.

"Aren't you forbidden to go to Hogsmeade without a form?" Hasan countered. "I'm looking for Luna and Neville, if you
must know. Have you seen them?"

"Oh!" George exclaimed. "We can answer both questions at once, can't we, Fred?"

"Or rather, this can!"

Hasan was staring at them questioningly, until they backed up to a wall and Fred discreetly took out an old wad of paper
from inside his robes.

"This my friend," George began in a dramatic whisper, "Is the Marauder's Map!"
Luna's words shot through Hasan just then: If it's wanting to know the secrets of the castle, I think the twins would b e
helpful...b ut I'm not sure why. Ask them for a spare b it of parchment after class I suppose.

"A spare bit of parchment?" Hasan echoed, taking the proffered 'map' with deference. It didn't look like much, but Hasan
of all people knew not to judge by appearances.

"Oh, much more than that our Slytherin buddy! Watch!" Fred tapped the edge of the map with his wand and whispered, "I
solemnly swear I am up to no good!"

Suddenly there were lines and arrows and names being drawn across the map like it was covered in wax and had just
been dunked in ink. Invisible passages, rooms, offices took form on the 2-D drawing, and Hasan nearly jumped back in
surprise as he saw the dots blossoming across the page, their dots labeled with their names.

"We nicked it from Filch years ago!" George added proudly. "So to answer your question, there are many ways of getting
into Hogsmeade. We prefer to go through a mirror on the fourth floor, but we may have to switch 'cause it looks about to
cave! As for your search, Luna and Neville are in trophy room, not sure why."

"Thank you." Hasan said politely. "Do you know who created the map? Their real names, I mean?"

The twins exchanged glances and pointed down at the map. "Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs...I would
reckon past Hogwarts students. Bloody geniuses, they must have been the best pranksters ever!"

"They're our idols, if you couldn't tell." Fred added. "But...Are you thinking what I'm thinking George?"

"Besides buying out Zonkos? Yeah, I'm getting that feeling too."

"What?" Hasan asked stupidly as the twins turned to him with smug grins.

"Well, we've already learned everything we could. Memorized it front and back." Fred said.

"But right now, we kind of get the sense that it's time to move on. Make our own waves, you know? So we humbly present
to you, Hasan Castell, the Marauder's Map!"

"Me? Really?" Hasan asked. The map was a beauty, perfectly proportioned and labeled...he could watch the little dots
move around for hours! He didn't see the Room of Requirement on it, though he did spot a total of seven secret ways
into and out of Hogwarts.

"To clear it, just tap it with your wand and say 'Mischief Managed!'" George said. "Good luck. I sense you will do great
things!" He winked and the two were off to the staircase.

Hasan stared down at the map in his hands and smiled. This would be very convenient indeed. He'd be able to research
in the Restricted section himself, without Neville or his invisibility cloak. (All it took was a good disillusionment charm,
really.) Very pleased, and yet anxious to give Luna and Neville the rings, Hasan set off towards the trophy room, the
Marauder's map folded neatly in his pocket.

.oOo.

Draco stalked back to the dorms, overly cautious about being caught. He needn't have worried though, for the common
room was mostly empty but for the love birds come to snog. Draco took the stairs two at a time, quietly on his toes,
wondering if this was how Hasan felt sometimes, trying his hardest not to be seen, and paranoid as hell.

Finally, Draco reached his room and knocked before entering. It was vacant and Draco breathed out in relief. Thank
Merlin!

He spotted the large, hard-backed books on the shelf and carefully pulled them out, not expecting a small leather-bound
diary to come toppling to the ground as well. And not just any diary.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." Draco breathed, reaching out instinctually for the book. The few times he had seen it at home, his
father had snapped at him to go play outside or study. It seemed that no one wanted him to see what was inside. He
shrank the muggle books and stuffed them into his pocket unconsciously as he flipped through the diary. Blank!

The whole thing was blank! But he remembered Hasan reading something in it...perhaps it was magical? Well, really,
Draco? He chided himself. He chanced a glance towards the door and decided to get moving. Give the books to Snape
and figure out the diary later. He raced back to his godfather's, plopped the books on the desk, and ran back to his own
dorm in under five minutes! A quick privacy charm later, and Draco had the diary flat out on his desk, opened to the first
page. He grabbed for a quill, wondering if this would backfire in some way. Probably not. It was just a book.

Even so, he held his breath while the ink splattered onto the page, not knowing what he was waiting for, just that he knew
something was supposed to happen. Anything! He wasn't disappointed: within seconds, the ink had faded and a
message had surfaced from within.

"Learn to not drip, won't you Hasan?" Draco was gaping. What in Salazar's name was this? "Hello? Hasan?"

Draco dipped his quill again and scrawled eagerly, "Hasan's not here right now. My name is Draco Malfoy. Who are you?"

The book could write. The freakin' diary could write! This had dark magic written all over it...so why had Hasan had it?
(His father was known to own a few questionable items. But surely no Hasan.)

"Draco Malfoy?" the diary repeated. "A pleasure. My name is Tom Riddle. What happened to Hasan?" he asked quickly.

"Hasan?" Draco asked, almost hurt. "Why do you need him?"

"Oh, I see..."

"See what?" Draco demanded.

"Nothing...nothing he wants you to know anyway. I haven't even heard of you b efore...b ut I've heard of the Longb ottom
b oy. The Boy-Who-Lived, indeed."

Draco was speechless, hurt, confused, angry. The book was goading him, and yet, it was just a book. So what if Hasan
didn't tell his diary about him? So what if it knew about Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived, but not him...

"Who else did he tell you about?" Draco asked shrewdly. "What would you gain from it anyway?"

"Ah, another Slytherin, then. Sorry Draco, I know how to keep my secrets...b ut I am curious. While you're here, what can
you tell me ab out Hasan Castell?"

"Why?"

"He just feels familiar, that's all." the diary wrote. "In exchange, perhaps I'll let you in on a secret. Perhaps...b ut I am such
a curious person, mayb e we'll start with Hasan and then go to the present teachers? Tell me, is that fool Dumb ledore still
here?"

A deal? A secret? What was Hasan hiding that this book was willing to divulge? What were all those hours hiding in his
room? Tantalus never got this close, did he?

And Draco began to write...

"Yes, I doubt Dumbledore will ever leave..."

.oOo.

Hasan strode into the trophy room, immediately spotting Neville and Luna in her bright red pea coat.

"Hasan!" Luna called. "I had a feeling you would like to see this."

"See what?" Hasan asked, drawing closer to the pair.

Neville pointed to one of the trophies in the case, where upon closer inspection, sat an old dusty quidditch award dating
from 1974.

"James Potter wins, earning Gryffindor the House Cup." Luna informed him. "Hey, what's in your hand?"

"Oh. These are rings." Hasan said. "They have the Protean charm on them, so when we have a meeting, we can
communicate with them."

Neville grinned and took his from Hasan's open palm. "Wow, how much was-?"

"We are magical, Neville. If you must know, a divide the price of a- What?" Hasan asked as Luna burst in a fit of giggles.

"Of course we're magical silly." she yelled, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist, face scrunched up in ecstasy.
"Oh, that was funny! There isn't nearly enough laughter nowadays!"

Hasan gave her the ring and her hands seemed to linger a heartbeat longer.

"But magic is wonder, isn't it?" Luna said quietly. "When used properly. My mother died when I was nine. She
experimented a little too much."

The room seemed to plunge below freezing and Neville shuffled awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry, Luna. I mean, I knew but..."

"It's alright, Neville." Luna said. "She knew it was time." She turned her wide silver eyes to Hasan and cracked a grin. "By
the way, the full moon is this Wednesday. Some things are like that, half good and half bad, but I think the Dueling Club
will have a meeting next Friday, so we should have a session on the next day!" Luna finished thoughtfully.

"Er..." Neville looked every bit as confused as he felt. "I'm going to see Hermione in the library before heading to bed."

"The password is 'wattlebird!'" Luna called sweetly after him. He nodded his thanks before scampering from the room.
Sometimes Luna really weirded him out... "Did you talk to the twins yet? They were looking for someone to be their
successors."

"Yes." Hasan answered, deeming it safe enough to take out. "By the way, how did you know?"

"Well, I didn't know exactly." Luna smiled. "But some things in this universe are unexplainable. But they happen for a
reason, sometimes I get hints, you know? Why don't you check it now? I've got to make sure Hermione doesn't knit more
hats. If you want one, I'm sure you can cast Engorgio to fit you..."

Luna waved god-bye, silver ring flashing on her finger, leaving Hasan to glance down at the map. Oh merciful Merlin!
Sirius Black was headed straight-

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Hasan turned around slowly, making himself appear as nonchalant as possible.
"Castell, isn't it? Hasan nodded.

"Hello, Mr. Black."

"Uh!" he shuddered. "Just Sirius is fine. If they must use my last name they might as well tack professor on the front."

Hasan knew that the Blacks were an ancient pureblood family (starting from muggles if the Black Blood Book was
reliable) and that many of the Dark Lords supporters came from them. In fact, Draco was probably a distant cousin of
Sirius'.

"If you wish." Hasan said.

"Well that's a first." Sirius remarked. "Usually people don't give a- well they don't care what I think. If it were up to
Dumbledore, I'd be locked in Grimmauld Place twenty-four seven. Or better yet, Azkaban. Not that Hogwarts feels that
homey with all the dementors around."

"You do not like the headmaster?" Hasan probed innocently, staring at the trophies with feigned interest.

"Like the man?" Sirius laughed. "What are you? Twelve, kid? I like the headmaster as a headmaster, but not as my
bloody caretaker. The only reason I'm here is because of Remus and-" he paused and swallowed. "We're mates if you
didn't know." he finished awkwardly, though it was stunningly obvious that he had amended his previous words.

"I know." Hasan said, which was true on both accounts. He thought back to what Luna said and repeated it back, "Some
things are like that. Half good and half bad. I imagine the full moon can be cut right down the middle."

"Wha-wh-!" Sirius sputtered.

"Je suis désolé. I am sorry, did I offend you?" Hasan asked emotionlessly, sounding anything but remorseful.

"No, just. It was a shock is all." Sirius said with a nervous laugh, recovering easily. "You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?"

"If you define 'you' then perhaps I can give you an affirmative answer."

"Right...Well, Hasan Castell, are you a Gryffindor?"

Hasan shook his head and smiled. Ah! Specifications, much better!

"I'm a Slytherin, but I suppose you're a lion, yes?"

"Oh, so you're one of Snape's, the greasy bas-" Sirius sighed and quieted again. "Damn. I can't keep slipping up, Remy'll
kill me."

Hasan watched this with curiosity. As nice as Remus was during class, it was quite obvious that the man had a back
bone. He hadn't been afraid to cast a mass obliviation on his DADA class (sparing Hasan of course) or threaten Mr.
Black, the seemingly reckless and dangerous substitute teacher. Then again, love did tend to bring the best out of
people!

"So, er, what are you looking at?" Sirius began presently. "Oh! That was fifth year! I remember that game like it was
yesterday. James always had this talent for flying. I was sure he was going to go pro, before, before, well, you know..."

"You cared about James a lot." Hasan stated the obvious.

"Yeah, still do. We made a group the four of us. Me, James, Remy, and that vermin Pettigrew." Sirius reminisced, staring
across the display cases.

"There were four of you?" Hasan asked, recalling the names on the Marauder's Map. Peter was known to be a
rat...Wormtail? And Padfoot? Sirius was a dog..."I have a map."

It took Black a moment to make sense of the unbelievably short sentences. "The Marauder's Map?" he breathed,
astonished.

Hasan nodded and disclosed it from his robes. "It was nicked from Filch." Hasan said, failing to mention just who had
nicked it.

"Oh, really? Wow, who knew that a Slytherin- Merlin! I really need to stop it with the House prejudices."

"So James was Prongs?" Hasan wondered, figuring that Lupin must have been Moony, as hard as it was to connect the
two together. "Why?"

"Well, he was a stag. For an Animagus, I mean. It really was fate, I see it now: Lily was a doe, did you know that?" Sirius
glanced towards the door. "You've got green eyes like hers, not, not like Lily's exactly, but green. Hers were vibrant,
emerald green. Yours are...darker, maybe? Sorry. Sometimes it's just hard to forget." He glanced towards Hasan again
and squinted. "No, not like Lily's at all. What am I thinking?"

Hasan sighed and bit his lip. "I wouldn't possibly know. Will the Dueling Club be next Friday?"

"Yes. Give Remy enough time to recover. We may even have you kids go up there and show us what you can do. It's
about time, I can't keep fighting Snape and getting my arse handed to me. Sorry for the language, kiddo. But he's right
fierce when he wants to be. He hasn't really changed from childhood at all. If anything, I think Azkaban took more out of
me than I realized...but Hogwarts and Remy are trying. I know. It'll all get better eventually."

Hasan was quiet as the man poured out his thoughts, wondering about what Remus, Sirius, James, Severus, and Lily
were like as kids. It seemed ages ago and yet only yesterday, even though he wasn't even born then.

"I'm weary. Bonne nuit." Hasan said somnolently. Sirius gaped as the kid stood up gracefully an stalked out of the room.
What the hell?

"Night." Sirius said to no one in particular, and lay there, staring at the dusty trophies. His time had passed. It was time to
grow up and be the man that Remus deserved.

.oOo.

Altair stared at the letter in his hand. It seemed Lucius was catching on fast.

"Why cannot I remember my wife? Were you aware that your son holds the Malfoy dagger? Are you Dark or Light?" Altair
read aloud, wondering how best to answer these. The thing was, Altair needed something from Lucius, and Lucius
needed little bits of encouragement, little incentives to keep him going. Not that a reminder of how desperate Lucius
really was, hurt at all.

"Dearest Lucius,
You cannot recall your wife simply b ecause I also occupy those memories. We were childhood friends, no, don't try
asking, it'll just upset her. You see, she recalls nothing either. I specifically pinpointed those memories that circulated
around her and me. Me, for ob vious reasons, her, b ecause I foresaw this moment and wished to spare you b oth pain. If
you can recall b ut a few weeks ago, you will know that I have only removed such memories as to cause you danger. As
you have no doub t found out, I am also Slytherin, which should answer all the other questions not under the first answer.

I was made aware just last summer that my son has b een gifted with the Malfoy dagger. For this, I thank you for the love
and support you have shown my son. If nothing else, your wealth.

As for the last. What constitutes Light and Dark? Dumb ledore versus Voldemort? Dark Magic versus Charms? I will
assume you mean the former, b ut please do b e more specific. I fear I've taken after my son in this way. For your b enefit, I
will answer neither. Should I b e grey or should I choose pink? Light and Dark? They mean nothing."

And now, Altair was ready to get down to business.

"I seem to recall a diary not yours in your possession. I need it. Failure to comply and send it b y owl, and I shall ask for
another suitab le task. No questions. Should you ask any, I will choose to ignore them until you do manage to complete a
task.

Best of luck,

Altair Castell"

.oOo.

"It's Friday! Can you believe it?" Theo asked across the table. "I thought we'd have a meeting last week, but I suppose
they need Lupin after all. Wonder where he goes every month- some of the Hufflepuffs are saying that his mother's sick."'

Hasan shrugged, hiding a smile between his blank mask.

"I don't know. But I think it will be worthwhile, the Dueling Club, I mean, I'm not sure where he spends his monthly
vacation."

Draco ate his chips slowly. He had had the diary for about a week and was frantic that Hasan should find out. Hence his
somewhat garbled answer of, "Yeah, me neither."

"Well, I can't wait!" Tracey piped up, "I heard that we're actually going to simulate a real wizards duel, with seconds and
everything!"

"Yeah, Mr. Black told us after class yesterday when I forgot my quill." Daphne said. "Hey, Draco. Are you feeling alright?"

"What makes you think that?" Draco snapped, stabbing some peas and carrots.

"He's probably just nervous for tonight." Tracey supplied. "If Hasan's going to be your second, do you think we could duel
with Daphne as mine?"

"Hey! What about me?" Theo asked teasingly.

"Stuck with the muggleborn, eh, Theo?" Blaise laughed. He had gotten somewhat used to the prospect of being distantly
associated with mudbloods, just as long as he wasn't with one, then everything was fine.

"I would be if that Weasel stopped approaching her." Theo growled.

"Relax, Hermione finds a decent friend in Ron." Hasan told him. "I think that if you asked her she would love to be
partners."

Theo's eyes lit up, "Seriously?"

"Seriously?" Blaise mocked. "Yeah, Hasan said so, so go!"

Tracey nodded and shoved Theo off the bench. "Hurry up, lover boy."

"Yeah, you're just jealous Tracey..." Theo muttered, but scampered off to meet Hermione anyway.

"Luna can sit with us, isn't that right, Ronald?" Hermione was challenging.
"Er..."Ron said.

"Oh look! Hi Theo!" Luna said brightly, slipping into the seat beside Hermione.

"Oh great! A Slytherin!" Ron groaned. "What next? Want to dissolve the Houses just like you want to dissolve the
purebloods? Talk about prejudice!"

"Knitting scarves and hats for house-elves hardly constitutes as pureblood prejudice!" Hermione snapped, then turned a
friendly face to Theo. "Hello Theo, won't you sit down?"

Theo eyed Ron apprehensively and shook his head. "I just wanted to ask you something, if that's alright: Will you consent
to be my second?"

"Your second? Isn't that for a Wizards Duel?" Hermione asked. "Oh! I remember now that Professor Lupin mentioned
something like this yesterday!"

Theo nodded. "Well, if you want to. We could go up against Hasan and Draco."

"Friends with bloody friends of Slytherins." Ron was muttering.

"Oh! I'd love to!" Hermione smiled. "And Ronald can be all alone, isn't that right?"

"Ron has Lavender!" Luna interjected to Ron's audible groan.

"Oh? Are you talking about me again, Wonwon?" Lavender squealed, miles down the table, before getting up.

"Oh joy," Ron moaned. Today was not his day. He had wanted to ask Hermione to be his second! And Lavender was
great and all...but nothing compared to Hermione. Then again, if Draco and Hasan were a pair, then perhaps he could
exact some revenge upon the Slytherin household? "I'm coming, no need to get up!" Ron called, before doing just that.

"Are they together?" Theo asked.

"Oh, no!" Hermione said as Luna said,

"They snog."

"Oh..." Theo finished. "Well, I'll see you tonight then...?"

Hermione beamed. "Of course. I've just got to knit a few more hats."

.oOo.

Albus Dumbledore leaned over Snape's shoulder as he ate his dinner in a neat and orderly fashion.

"Severus?"

Most of the staff table was consumed in their own private chatter and occasional gossip from Trelawney as to who was
prophesized to die, and paid no heed to the bearded wizard sneaking about as silent as a mouse.

"Yes?" Snape asked, putting down his fork and tuning politely. The headmaster inclined his head and indicated towards
the exit. "Now?"

"If you are finished."

Severus gave a plaintive glance towards his empty plate and stood up.

"Of course."

The two wizards weren't noticed at all as they exited discretely out the side. Partly because they had cast notice-me-not
charms about themselves, but also because most of the kids had left already to prepare for the Dueling Club.

"Headmaster, what is this about?" Severus asked, surprised that Minerva was nowhere in sight. It surely couldn't involve
the Potter boy, because then Lupin or Black would also be expected to be here. As it was, only he and the headmaster
stood, alone and side-by-side in the foyer.

"I wanted to wish you luck today." Albus said conversationally. "I'm pleased at the amount of students participating in the
club, I confess I had not expected as many."
Severus waited, waiting for that 'but...' that second shoe, technically the main shoe, to fall.

"I am also curious as to the muggle books you have begun to read."

Snape was too much of a spy to suck in a dramatic breath, no, if anything, his mask became blanker, staring simply at
Gan-Albus. Damn, Altair and those books!

"I do not recall ever mentioning them. Have you been-?"

"Oh, no! No, I wouldn't dream of snooping about in your chambers!" Albus insisted in earnest. "No, Black just mentioned
them in passing. Is he correct that they are called The Lord of the Rings?"

Snape nodded. "Yes. A rather interesting muggle depiction, I assure you."

"About magical rings, yes?"

"Yes. And might I ask why, headmaster, it is that you have suddenly found interest in my private reading?"

Albus smiled.

"Lemon drop?"

"No thank you." Severus said tersely.

"Aw, well." Albus sighed and popped one in his mouth. "You know, we are on the same side Severus. I truly regret ever
giving Harry to the Durselys, and I think you've come to realize that Harry will never be like James. Even Black is changing
before your eyes."

"And this has to do with my books because-?"

"It's no real secret that Lupin has loaned them to you. I simply wish to express my pleasure at seeing you befriend your
colleagues."

"Befriend." Severus repeated dully. Well, if Lupin insisted to cover for him... "Of course. Is there anything else you wish to
discuss with me, Albus?"

Dumbledore shrugged and chewed thoughtfully at the candy.

"Nothing as of yet."

"Then I shall go and ready myself for the Club." Severus said with a slight inclination of the head.

"Yes, go. And good luck, Severus, my boy." Albus called. "Sometimes the best of us need a little of it."

The headmaster watched the man stride away down to the dungeons. There had actually been a very good reason for
the meeting, and yet, nothing at all. Rings, magic rings...Or rather, one ring in particular. He needed someone on his
side. Someone who understood wards and dark magic, just in case the temptation hung too low.

He had tried scrying today; an ancient art, out of practice, and very much a last resort. Needless to say, it had failed, and
yet, something amazing had struck him at the exact moment the scrying had faded. Something so extraordinary that
Dumbledore had taken the entire afternoon just to think of it: There was a boy named Hasan Castell.

He had never known this. How? Was there a notice-me-not? A disillusionment? An obliviation involved? He would have
sensed such things! He would have known...and yet he had known, hadn't he? On some primal level, he had known and
functioned accordingly. There was a boy named Hasan Castell.

Albus recalled the Sorting, Minerva's raves, and of course, the fact that he too had been down in the chamber of the
stone, battling against Lord Voldemort along with Neville. But how had he failed to recognize this, as in, analyze and
understand and retain this knowledge? Was it spell work or rather...his own neglect? His own reluctance to see anyone
other than Neville, his new project, son, apprentice, weapon, savior... Albus had already saved the world once, it was
time for him to pass on the torch...so why had he only concerned himself with Neville Longbottom? Surely there were
others that would be better suited for the role?

Either way, it was too late now: Hasan Castell had been completely neglected. All he could do was hope for a chance in
the future; after all, Albus was built on second chances.
.oOo.

It was Friday night, the 18th of December, and the final Dueling Club meeting of the semester. A blizzard raged on
outside, frosting the great windows with ice crystals and causing a chill throughout the corridors. Once more, the Great
Hall had been divested of its usual tables, being replaced by a large platform in the middle with lots of space around for
spectators.

Luna, Neville, Hasan, and Draco stood huddled in the crowd, waiting for the professors to show. Many students had
already paired themselves off, eager to fight an actual duel (minus the deaths and such other minor details.) Hermione
was with Theo, Hasan with Draco, Neville with Ginny, Tracey with Daphne, Ron with Lavender, and Luna with Sue Li.

Without warning, the great doors swung open, allowing for three wizards to come striding in. Severus was up front so
that Remus and Sirius could link arms in the back.

"Welcome again!" Remus shouted once they were all on the platform. "Today, as you might have heard from a certain
substitute teacher (couch, Sirius, cough), we will be selecting students to partake in a simulation duel. Each person
should have a partner as their second, however, we have no deaths planned for today, so this is simply a formality.
Everyone will have equal and ample opportunity to show us what they've got. As always, if anyone does not wish to
participate in front of an audience, you may of course decline and watch from the side. Any questions?- Yes, Ernie?"

"Are we limited in which spells we use?"

"Ah! Yes, good question!" Remus began. "We would prefer that you guys stick with purely defensive spells or the ones
we went over in class or club such as: Petrificus Totalus, Locomotor Mortis, Tarantallegra, Expelliarmus, and Protego!
Any others?- good! Sirius if you would-?"

Sirius nodded and took the front, staring down at the students pleasantly. Severus was at his left, taking survey of the
kids from that angle while Lupin sat back and watched.

"We'll be practicing Expelliarmus for five minutes before demonstrations, until then, good luck finding a second!"

He bowed dramatically and the hall burst into excited whispers and applause as they scrambled for a partner.

Hasan turned to Draco and smiled.

"What would you like to practice? I've no doubt that Monsieur Sussmeier has taught you extremely well."

"Want to find out?" Draco challenged teasingly, taking out his wand. "Expelliarmus!-"

"Protego!"

The two spells collided causing quite an unpleasant banging noise before dispelling each other.

"Didn't know it would do that." Draco said, rubbing his ear. "I don't think I want a repeat."

Hasan nodded. "I definitely concur."

To their left, Luna and Sue Li were practicing the Expelliarmus on each other, while on their right Hermione and Theo
were making quills float and target things. Draco turned a questioning eye to Tracey and Daphne who were caught
looking at him, and Hasan momentarily met Neville's gaze.

"Oh come on Neville! Let me put you in a body-bind...!" Ginny was squealing.

Neville grinned uncomfortably, but otherwise didn't protest.

"I'm still unsure: Are they together?" Hasan asked.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Hasan, sometimes I worry for you. Yes, they're together!"

"Hey Hasan!" Daphne called. "Would you mind dueling us for practice?"

Hasan and Draco exchanged glances and nodded.

"Great! Let's beat 'em, Daphne!" Tracey shouted, but just at that moment, the hall went eerily silent. Hasan's head
snapped up to view the speaker, and wasn't surprised to find Severus pacing the platform, onyx eyes gleaming.
"I am giving you all a fair warning before we begin: I do not intend to send anyone to St. Mungos and highly insist that you
do NOT cast any spells that may harm your opponent permanently. Madam Pomfrey will be waiting in the annex for any
emergency, but any spells cast designed to cause long-term damage will be dealt with very seriously. Do I make myself
clear?" The crowd was a sea of murmurs and nods and Snape smiled, satisfied. "Good. Now if all students not wishing
to participate could move to the back?"

There was a great flurry of movement as bodies slid past one another. The three teachers, Black, Lupin, and Snape
descended the platform and wove through the crowd easily, able to point out the pairs and assign them a number.

"Hasan, Draco, you will be 1A. Luna, Neville will be 1B-" Sirius started.

"But professor!" Lavender whined. "We were supposed to duel Hasan and Draco!"

"I've heard nothing." Sirius said simply. "But if you insist..."

Draco was glaring daggers at Ron, but in reality, he was rather excited at the prospect of fighting a duel. And getting even
for that terrible framing job. There was no way in hell he was going to back down now. Especially not with Lavender
making faces and rubbing Ron's shoulders- it was enough to make anyone gag.

"Oh, bring it." Draco snarled. "We'll beat you any day."

Hasan simply blinked. A fight was a fight no matter who it was against- he didn't mind either way.

"Alright! So if Hasan and Draco could come up the right side and Ron and Lavender on the left?" Sirius called. "We'll
have one from each side go first, then after a winner is declared we'll switch, got it?" The hall nodded, watching the pairs
advance with avid curiosity. Draco, Ron, and Lavender were deep into their staring competition, while Hasan followed
gracefully behind, ready to wipe that smirk off Ron's face. "And...begin!"

A/N: So sorry to leave on a cliffie like that! But it seemed like a nice place to begin chapter 15. Sorry!
What do you think will happen? Who will win? How about that Maurderer's Map? Draco and Tom Riddle? Did you like
Sirius-bonding?

And talk about bonding...guess what's a cool element? Hs: Hassium! You know what else? Lutetium Sodium. If you find
any other cool things, just type it in a review! But on the off chance you want something less pointless to write about:

Who do you want to read more about?

a) Minerva McGonagall

b) Albus Dumbledore

c) Sirius Black

d) Narcissa Malfoy

e) Neville Longbottom

f)_other_

(My reasoning behind this is that these are the people who do not have extremely major roles in the future chapters. I just
want a bit of direction in who you actually care about so I don't throw out someone you actually like.)

PLEASE VOTE! Thank you!

Next Chapter: Parseltongue and Poetry (a.k.a. Valentine's Day approaches)

*Chapter 15*: Parseltongue and Poetry
Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews as always! I'm so sorry I'm behind on all my thank you's, but I do appreciate
every single word I get!

I also want to give a big thanks to Professor King who has beta-ed this chapter wonderfully.

The deal still stands! 300th reviewer gets to pick a story element! LET'S MAKE IT TO 300!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 15: Parseltongue and Poetry

Hasan and Lavender strode up for the first round, leaving Draco and Ron on their respective sides of the platform. The
two second years drew close to the center, wands out and eyeing each other speculatively, before bowing as propriety
dictated in a decidedly reluctant way. Lavender rolled her eyes as they both returned to their starting places, not wishing
to do a whole song and dance before kicking some Slytherin arse. Hasan, however, smiled reassuringly to Draco and
Luna in the crowd, who were slightly concerned about Ron's unpredictable girlfriend.

"One!..." Lupin raised his finger, voice carrying easily over the crowd. "Two!...Thr-!"

"Expelliarmus!" Lavender screeched with a jab of her wand, a red flash of light sent zooming like a bullet. The students
drew in a breath as the battle begun with flare, Lavender looking for all the world like a child left solitary in a candy store.
Entirely too happy, and entirely unsupervised. Her eyes were bright, darting about her with an air of paranoia.

"Protego." Hasan muttered softly. The earsplitting bang from before ensued, as the spells collided off each other with
blue sparks. Everyone who had already heard the sound once quickly covered their ears, shuddering involuntarily. A lazy
smile sat on his face as Lavender advanced furiously. She hadn't even seen his mouth move! She would not look like a
fool! She would NOT!

"Locomotor Mortis!" Lavender screamed, slashing her wand about. "Tarantallegra!"

The leg-locker jinx flew straight beneath Hasan's lithe jump, disappearing instantly where Lupin had erected the ward.
The second however, made its mark, causing Hasan's feet to begin a rapid tap-dance. Throughout it all, Hasan looked
utterly bored, and the hilarity of the situation was turned on its side to appear simply odd.

"Relashio! Expelliarmus!" Hasan cried, freeing himself from the humiliating jig and shooting Lavender's wand out of her
hand in one graceful motion. The stick flew up in the air, and Hasan, with his inherent reflexes, easily caught it, before
twirling it between his fingers with a smirk. It didn't feel warm as his wand did for him, instead, giving off a rather
unhappy, cold aura, very similar to Lavender herself.

"Give it back!" Lavender screeched just as Black declared,

"And the winner is Hasan Castell!"

Her protests were drowned by cheers from the crowd, mostly from Slytherin and Gryffindor, and then more cheers from
all the houses that were privy to Lavender's lovely attitude throughout the course of the past year.

Hasan tossed her back her wand and took a bow as Lavender stomped off the stage.

"I-it's alright, Lav," Ron soothed nervously as Lavender went to slap him.

"Do it, Ron! Swear it! No holding back!" she hissed angrily, planting her feet down and crossing her arms in front of her
chest.

Ron's face changed from nervous to mildly determined. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Lavender growled, eyeing Draco like a piece of meat.

Severus watched this all with interest, knowing that Hasan was clearly hanging back, but also knowing that Hasan was
extremely smart for doing so. As of today, he had made it past the Hobbit, and into the Fellowship of the Ring, and had
just begun to understand Hasan's internal reasoning. Become underestimated and defeat your opponents at opportune
times. It was rather similar with Voldemort and him, he thought, but hell if he was going to draw a parallel between
Hasan Castell, a muggle book, and himself!

He watched Lavender stomp about on stage, plotting furiously with Ron Weasley on the platform. He was already getting
a bad feeling about this. Looking to his side, he saw that Lupin had already grabbed his wand, though Black remained
completely oblivious.

"We'll have to be careful with this one. She doesn't seem to like Draco much," Lupin whispered the obvious.

On the other side of the Great Hall, Ginny and Neville were staring up at the proceedings with interest. Ginny's arm was
wrapped around Neville's, and they seemed to lean into one another under the snowy sky of the hall.

"Oh! Isn't that simply terrible, Neville!" Ginny moaned. "Lavender was training so hard!"

Neville nodded dumbly. He liked Ginny, he really did, but he knew Hasan just a little bit better.

"I think Hasan's just a tough opponent, that's all. Nothing bad about Lavender." Neville mumbled quickly. Ginny took this
as an agreement and pecked a kiss on his cheek. He turned bright red in embarrassment.

To their side, Hermione and Theo were eyeing Ron speculatively.

"Think Draco can handle this?" Hermione asked uneasily. She knew that Ron wouldn't do anything bad by himself, but
Lavender was decidedly not a good influence. Given the chance, well, there was nothing Ron hated quite so much as
Slytherins.

"Yeah, he can handle quite a lot, actually." Theo remarked. "I'm more worried about Ron right now. Draco's been prickly
all week and I think Ron might just be on the receiving end of a lot of nerves..." Internally, Theo was leaping in excitement.
Ron was about to get his comeuppance, that was for sure!

Up on the platform, Draco was rolling his shoulders, trying to relax himself before the show. "Lavender really has no
class." he drawled. "A perfect match for a Weasley, I'd say."

"Be nice, Draco." Hasan murmured, jade eyes glued to Lavender Brown. "Weasley's learning like all the rest of us.
Bonne chance, though you can't always rely on luck."

Draco nodded firmly. "I can handle a Weasel any day."

Ron strutted forward in his second hand robes, wand clasped tightly in his hand. Lavender was grinning mischievously
in the background, causing a decidedly unsettled feeling in Hasan's stomach. She was planning something, that much
was obvious- but what?

Draco met Ron halfway, platinum blonde hair gleaming in the candlelight. Ron inclined his ginger head while Draco
sneered and bowed mockingly, low to the floor.

"You're on, Weasel," he hissed.

"You're dragon meat, Malfoy," Ron returned, whipping haughtily around to head towards his team's side.

"Don't worry, Draco. You've got me as your second." Hasan whispered as Draco returned. Draco nodded, guiltily thinking
of the diary currently beneath his pillow and the books he stole. (Though not so remorseful about the second because
Hasan believed him when he said that Draco himself was reading them.)

"I'm not worried." Draco muttered, but was quick to rethink this, for as soon as he pivoted, he was met with Ron's gleeful
face.

"Protego!" Draco snapped before the red head had uttered a single thing. The shield charm blasted Ron backwards into
the air and dropped him unceremoniously to the floor.

"Uh!" Ron moaned. " Titillando!"

Lilac ribbons in the form of hands reached out menacingly towards the blonde, enfolding him in millions of agonizing
tickles. Draco sent a stinging hex as the tickling spell wore off, and Ron bit back a hiss as his robes sizzled and charred,
leaving a small nettle prick on his shoulder.

"Ron!" Lavender whined impatiently.

Draco's silvery eyes flickered to the brunette in suspicion, before Ron straightened and raised his wand.
"Serpensortia!"

The tip of his wand blurred in a haze of explosions, erupting from it a large black snake, nearly five times the size of poor
Tina! Hasan's jade eyes widened considerably as the serpent slithered powerfully across the platform, head and body
raised with gleaming red eyes. Its forked tongue flickered out, tasting the fear and surprise of hundreds of Hogwarts
students.

Severus made to stand up, but Lupin shot out an arm to stop him.

"You want to see what he can do? Let him show you." Lupin whispered furiously, and Severus saw at once the truth in
those words. But...when had he started turning into a bloody hero? He couldn't help everyone; sometimes people
needed to learn to help themselves. He nodded and sat back down reluctantly, ready to watch whatever Hasan and
Draco could muster.

"Come on, snake boy! Think you're a real Slytherin?" Lavender taunted from the back.

"Yeah!" Ron agreed, scrambled back towards safety, "Try sneaking your way out of this one you bloody Slytherins!"

They both fell laughing as Draco's face melted to one of mute horror. Hasan wished he could help the boy, he really did,
but there was no way in hell that he was going to reveal that he was a parselmouth! He glanced sharply towards the
professors, wondering when they would deign to step in. It seemed that Snape was about to get up, but then Lupin
stopped him. Oh, bloody brilliant! They just curious, weren't they?

"Draco, now would be nice..." Hasan said. He didn't understand what the big deal was. The snake clearly wasn't
venomous, and Hasan could hardly control the color of the beast's red eyes!

:Who hasss sssummoned me?: the serpent demanded, head swinging from side to side like a great metronome.
:Wassss it you?: He was staring at Malfoy now, cocking its large head from side to side. :Humansss should learn to
keep their problemsss to themssselvess!:

"Uh! uh! Hasan!" Draco whimpered.

"Relax, it's not going to harm you, Draco." Hasan said quietly, walking up to the giant cobra.

Then, from out of nowhere, another voice filtered into the Great Hall.

:Theeeese humansss wish to harm you! Ssstrike for them all! Yesss! Kill them! Sssso long, ssso long ssssincce I have
tasssted their sssweeet blood!: This voice wasn't pleasant or smooth like Tina's, but rather scratchy and starved, an
altogether unfriendly, violent creature, and by the sounds of it, bloodthirsty too.

Hasan stared at the blank wall in wonder. Was there something behind the wall? Another parselmouth? Another snake?
And why did it hate humans so much?

:Isss thisss true?: the black serpent asked, barring its venomous fangs, beady eyes latching onto Draco.

:Yeesss! Rip! Tear! Kill them all!: the second voice faded away, seeming to slither through something very tight, for the
sound of its scales were loud in Hasan's ears. He was only brought back to reality by the gasps coming from the crowd.

"Oh! Draco!"

"Oh, no!"

"Professor!"

"Lupin, Black, Snape!"

"Draco, move out of the way!"

"Hasan!"

In that instant, the snake had plunged down, the vanishing curse on the tip of Snape's tongue. Damn it, Lupin! How had
he managed to let the wolf talk him into waiting? This was his godson! These were his Slytherins! Oh, Weasley and
Brown were never going to see the light of day again, they'd be scrubbing cauldrons twenty-four seven for the next seven
years of their lives! His feet moved to stand just as Lupin began to shout the shield charm. Black was out of the room,
running for Madam Pomfrey. And all time stood still.
:Halt.:

The cobra froze, yards away from Draco's blonde head.

:Halt.: Hasan hissed again, arms raised in the universal sign of surrender. :We mean you no harm.:

Its large black head swung to the crowd, searching for the truth in each and every one of their terrified faces. A girl fainted.

:Who hasss brought me here? My name is Ssssossssiaro.:

Sosiaro had apparently found truth in the young wizard's words, for it lowered itself back down and listened.

:I can return you,: Hasan said, :Would you like that?:

The snake nodded, tail slapping the platform in confirmation. It left a dent and sent chunks of platform flying,
disintegrating instantly as they smashed against the wards.

:Right, then-: Hasan took a deep breath. "-Vipera Evanesca!"

He waved his wand and pointed it towards the snake, a blast of light shooting out and enveloping the serpent in a cloud
of black smoke. But just before he vanished, Hasan swore he heard something along the lines of :Thanksss.:

The hall was eerily silent as Hasan turned towards the Malfoy heir.

"Yes?"

"Y-you're a parselmouth!" Draco exclaimed for the entire world to hear.

"I know."

"B-but! You're a parselmouth!" Draco repeated in awe, his knees quaking beneath him. Not only had he almost died or
been severely injured, but his friend, whom he had known for two years had been keeping a secret from him! Who was
Hasan to accuse him about trust when he was the one who barely told Draco anything? (Not that Hasan ever accused
Draco of anything, this was just Draco's justification for stealing things.)

"When you stop gaping, perhaps you can explain to me why exactly it is that you care." Hasan asked, though was
growing uncomfortable by the minute.

"Because only Salazar Slytherin could speak to snakes...and the Dark Lord." Draco whispered. "Oh! Father's going to kill
me!"

Lucius was already on the tightrope as it was, straddling relations on both the Dark and Light...once he learned that
Draco practically begged him to take on a clearly dark child as part of their family! Draco was dragon meat.

All around them, children were whispering, hissing things (figuratively), growling things, glaring. And as apathetic as
Hasan was, the attention made him want to die. He couldn't deal with this! All he had wanted was to save Draco from the
damn cobra...and that voice! What was that voice?...

Salazar's monster? Was it true? He recalled Tom once telling him something about a means to rid the school of all but
purebloods. It made sense, it fit. But he refused to let Tom know that the creature was still up and about. Hasan wasn't
stupid after all! He knew that Tom dearly wished to set the creature loose and would probably have a means of using
Hasan's information to do so...

He glanced at Draco who was, by now, deathly white.

"Students! If you could all please quiet down and exit orderly through the main doors there!" Lupin called. The frozen
mass of children suddenly bolted towards the door, but miraculously slowed to a pleasant pace once outside.

"Another mass-obliviation?" Snape muttered in question. Lupin nodded. "You know if Albus finds out, you're fired, right?"
Another nod. "Do you want to get fired?" Snape growled.

"I've got a better question: Do you want Hasan to suffer?- I thought so." he said blandly at the look on Snape's face. He
would have looked smug but for the severity of the situation. Hasan Castell was a parselmouth. Hasan was
a...parselmouth. Both teachers mulled over the idea-no, the enigma that was Hasan Castell...

Draco and Hasan were the last ones out, nearly bumping into Sirius on his own way in.
"Why's everyone leaving so soon?" Sirius wondered innocently. Poppy was bustling behind, wand out and ready to help.

"I thought you said there was a problem, Sirius!" Poppy yelled irritatedly. Her eyes turned to Draco and Hasan, as they
were the only kids left in the room, and Draco seemed to pale beneath her gaze. "Well?"

"Terribly sorry, Madam Pomfrey." Hasan cut in smoothly, offering her a charming smile as he shoved Draco through the
door. Draco fell through the spell and started at first, but then looked around curiously before turning back towards
Hasan.

"The meeting's over already?" Draco asked candidly. "Wow, that was fast!"

Poppy gazed enquiringly at Hasan who just shrugged and followed Draco out.

"Sorry, we're just all tired." Hasan said sheepishly. "Come on, Draco. You got hit in the head with a wayward stupefy and
Snape thought it best to cancel before the meeting became too wild."

Draco nodded numbly. A stupefy? He couldn't recall. Right, because he hit his head.

"I need to lie down." Draco murmured. "My head feels...really light. I can't describe it, only that, I felt this way after our first
DADA class. Odd isn't it? I think something's wrong with Lupin...Ever wonder if he's a werewolf?"

Draco was trailing off incoherently as they walked down to the dungeons. The combination of the shock, the guilt,
betrayal, and sudden obliviation really did a number on a person. Fortunately, Hasan had cast a privacy charm on him
from the moment they descended the stairs.

"Shh, it's alright Draco. Just get some sleep."

Draco walked lethargically to his dorm, flashing a grin at Hasan over his shoulder before disappearing inside.

"Yeah, I see what you mean. Luck is really unreliable, isn't it?" Hasan whispered to himself.

.oOo.

Lucius Malfoy was having a wonderful day. His beautiful wife had made him a lovely roast beef dinner, and his Dark Mark
had all but faded! (He had been worried earlier in the summer when it had turned a nasty black, but now it was faint
against his skin.)

"I'm going to the Greengrass'!" Narcissa yelled, one bright red stiletto in the house, the other on the marble step.

"Have fun, darling!" Lucius called, knowing that these social outings would one day save them if their loyalties were
questioned. He watched her apparate away before sending the wards back up and retiring to his bedchambers. It was
10pm, and work had been rather tiring, if very rewarding.

A neat sum of five thousand Galleons made the Minister of Magic much more inclined to let him into the Department of
Mysteries. For he had need of a certain library, buried deep within the department, that had books banned from over
hundreds of years ago. But all he really needed to look up was Memory charms, spells, collection, and removal. The
Malfoy library was in itself, an extensive treasure, but Lucius was completely baffled at what the hell was wrong with him
and how he could reverse it. He couldn't let this Altair Castell run his life! Malfoy's bowed to no one! (Except for
Voldemort.)

After an exhausted effort of seek and find, Lucius had found (stumbled across) exactly one book on the topic, which
wasn't even dark! Organization was simply dreadful down there, and many books were falling apart. What he did
manage to learn was very little, and yet, just enough:

"Obliviated memories may not be salvaged from the mind unless at risk of permanent damage. Removed memories, as
in using a pensieve, may be returned to the owner if stored and returned properly. The more memories, the more
magical energy needed to maintain them. However, it is possible for one to receive flashes of the removed memories if a
Fray is left. Similar to a fabric fray, it allows for the reaped memories to be reattached. Without this, the memories may
never latch on to the original mind and will quickly be forgotten if viewed within a pensieve or Legilimency..."

Which confirmed one thing: if Lucius cooperated, there was a chance, a slim one, of recovering his life. Oh, dear Salazar!
He was doomed! He needed Altair and Altair knew it! Damn the man, damn the dagger, damn their sons! There was no
way to harm the kid now that he was under Malfoy protection!

Walking into his chambers now, it seemed much like fate that there should be a tawny owl standing on his desk, a slim
letter tied to its leg. He quickly freed the feathered creature of its burden, before shooing it away out the window. He
smoothed the letter out on his desk and began to read...

By the time he reached the end, he was fisting strands of his platinum locks and banging his elbow on the table. Shit!
Shit! Shit! Altair truly had him wrapped about his finger in every single way. Memories of Altair! Yes, he could live without
them! Memories of Narcissa! His dear, beloved wife? That was taking it too far. He needed to cooperate. He needed back
his memories and his life and his peace of mind!

"Dear Altair Castell,

You knew I was condemned the moment I opened the very first letter and read the very first word. Well, have it your way: I
swear on the honor of the Malfoy name, that I will complete these tasks to my utmost. This being said, I do indeed know
of the diary I think you are referring to. However, it is out of my power to deliver it to you. I have no idea where it might have
landed by now except that it's in Hogwarts. As requested, I will not ask my three questions until the next task has been
delegated and completed. So consider this rhetorical: There is something I cannot recall of this diary, but something I
am sure you know. What is the diary's purpose?

Regards,

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy"

He sighed and rested a bit with his hands to his burning forehead. There was nothing he could do. He was well and truly
trapped. No one to call. No one to blame. He didn't even dare to tell Severus! Nothing to risk those memories. Nothing at
all.

.oOo.

Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, had woken from a long and altogether unpleasant sleep. He dreamed he had killed Hasan.
Well, ha, that was funny...

He groaned and rolled over, surprised at the diary lying beside him. He hadn't remembered writing in it last
night...actually, he didn't remember anything much of last night. But he was sure that he had gone to the Dueling Club, he
remembered talking about it over lunch. How odd.

He opened the diary now, reaching blindly for his hand and his pen in his cabinet.

"Hello Tom." Draco wrote, sitting up and propping the book on his pillow.

"Oh, good morning, Draco." The words were immediate, as if Tom had been expecting him to write. It was disconcerting
to say the least, but Draco was so concerned about his own problems to ponder any more.

"I can't help but feel as if...I've forgotten something."

"You went to the Dueling Club last night and wrote to me, but as soon as you mentioned that it was your turn to duel, you
suddenly stopped writing. I assume you had fallen asleep."

"Oh." Draco stared at his hands and thought. He had fallen asleep, just like that?

"Are you sure you're alright? You mentioned that Hasan walked you to your rooms."

"Hasan wouldn't-"

"Of course, because Hasan wouldn't hide anything from you..."

Secrets...Draco frowned at the diary, angry at something he couldn't recall. And why couldn't he recall it?

"I can help, you know. " Tom wrote in earnest. "I know where he keeps it."

"Keeps what? Keeps what where?" Draco demanded.

"I'm sure I could show you later...it'll just be our little secret."

.oOo.

Hasan paced restlessly up and down the seventh floor corridor. Damn snakes! Why had he felt the need to step in? Why
not vanish it? Why not slam it into the wards?
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! But it had been an immediate reaction! A reflex! He hadn't even known about parseltongue until
Tina explained it to him! He had thought that he was speaking English, well not yesterday, but up until Altair! Stupid! How
could he have done that?

The whole thing was wholly uncomfortable: the stares, the awestruck faces, the glances, the glares, the whispers...and
worse! Lupin had to cast another obliviation on the door! If no one caught on, it would be a miracle. But that was it, he
was sure that someone caught on, and he was terrified if Neville or Draco should ask him about it. So what happened
last night? Who dueled? Who won? Hasan couldn't bear it!

The door emerged from the stone wall, jutting out as a gold adorned port. Hasan walked through absently, dreading the
moment he would have to confess or deny. Dreading the betrayal of people who were more than just acquaintances, but
friends. Damn it! People like him shouldn't even have friends.

The room was furnished with black plush chairs and a warm cream rug. The walls were red, with gray accents like
lamps and tables.

"Where is everyone?" Hasan asked to the empty room, already anxious that they had figured it out and had refused to be
in his presence any longer- Figured out that they had been oblivated all year and that he was a dirty Slytherin. A
parselmouth! The very epitome of evil. It was only a stone's throw away from Harry Potter, the boy wonder, the survivor, the
one destined to save them all. They'd think: If he was hiding this, what else is he hiding? We know so little about him.
What else is he hiding? Let's find out! Let's find out!

"Shut up, Hasan." he growled to himself. "Just, stop trying to guess what others will say." His heart rate sped up, his
breathing coming out in labored gasps. This wasn't healthy, he told himself. Well obviously, Hasan. Just stop thinking,
would you?

He heard the door creak open form behind him, but he couldn't bring himself to turn around. Was it Draco come to
demand the dagger back? Neville deciding that Ron was in the right to send a lethal cobra after them? Or, Merlin forbid,
Luna...

"Hasan." It was Luna's voice! Cool and smooth and lovely. "Hasan. What're you doing? Come sit with me."

Hasan stole a glance and blinked at her hair that was neatly braided over her shoulder.

"I wanted to be like you. See, like it?"

Hasan nodded, before following her to the couch.

"Draco and Neville?"

"Not coming." Luna said. "They, like the rest of the Dueling Club, have woken up with splitting headaches. Unusual isn't
it?"

"Yeah." Hasan sighed. "I suppose you sensed the obliviation?"

Luna smiled. "I always do. It only takes a lucky charm to dispel those. You must be extremely lucky. It never seems to
affect you at all."

Hasan forced out a merciless laugh. "I wonder why."

"Don't worry, Hasan. I can keep secrets you know. Hey, do you trust me?" Her silver eyes were wide as she gazed at
Hasan with full on trust. "Do you?"

"Anyone who can forgive me deserves trust." Hasan murmured.

"That's good." Luna said, playing with her braid. "Because I've got secrets too."

"I see." Hasan said, though he really didn't. One could only imagine the many things going on inside Luna Lovegood's
brain.

"There's a reason why we met, I think. I've told you before: I can sense things. They don't make a lot of sense sometimes,
but...they always come true." Her eyes dropped to her lap where her hands were folded gently, the silver ring glinting on
her finger. "I'm psychic."

Hasan gaped. "You're psychic?" he repeated. It really shouldn't have come as a surprise. She had practically told him the
last time they had met, but hearing it now. It just made it so final.

"Yup!" Luna cried. "Here, I'll prove it. Before I came to Hogwarts, I had this niggling thought of a diadem. Did you know
that? The Sorting Hat called it the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, and the next thing I knew, I was in Ravenclaw!"

"A diadem?" Hasan asked. "Oh, Merlin!" He clenched his eyes shut as a wave of fatigue rolled over him. "A diadem? Isn't
that like a crown?"

"A tiara." Luna specified. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."

Hasan nodded. "I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I've just, oh gods...I don't know anymore."

"It's alright. It's not very important anyway. It's missing, did you know?" Luna asked curiously.

"Mi-missing?" Hasan echoed. There was a faint ringing, that of a chime or distant Angel's horn...he needed to find it. He
needed to find the diadem. But why?

"Yes. They say You-Know-Who was after it. It's supposed to give the wearer knowledge, you know? The Grey Lady told
me, and she must be right."

"I see."

"But Hasan, I'm only explaining this so that you know...that I know what it's like to be...sort of different from everybody else.
Sometimes I babble on about things I have no knowledge of, simply because the inspiration takes me." Luna sighed
and fingered her ring. "But I'm glad I've got you."

Hasan nodded, but his mind was locked and her silver eyes held the key. The longer he gazed, the longer her felt
himself falling into a vat of warm molten silver.

"But anyway," Luna began again, shaking the moment away with a brush of her cheek. "I think I've got the visualization
down. I'm nearly on par with Neville now because he spends so much time with Ginny. Perhaps we can try next year. I
have a feeling that things will get very busy. But most of the time my feelings are nonsense. Don't you agree?"

"-No!" Hasan interjected, blushing at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't meant to say anything, and yet, he found
himself coming to the blonde witch's defense. "No, feelings...aren't stupid." Hasan said, feeling the truth even as his
mind shouted 'liar, liar, liar.' "No, we need emotions, Luna. They counter out our thoughts; otherwise we'd all go crazy."

Luna sighed. "Thank you, Hasan. And...good-bye."

She jumped lightly off the couch and ran towards the door, waving happily behind her.

What was this warm feeling? Was it trust? Was it... was it love?

"Merlin, Luna! I think I'm losing it."

.oOo.

Valentine's Day arrived with all the glamour of millions of multi-coloured roses, flying cupids, and chocolate hearts. Ginny
Weasley, for one, assaulted Neville outside the boys' dorms with a handmade card and box of chocolate frogs. It was
Sunday, so he had taken the extra hour of sleep and emerged fully dressed and beaming in his brand new wizards
robes. He started at first at her sudden presence, but quickly wrapped her in a hug.

"Love you, Nev! Happy Valentine's Day! Open it!" she shoved the candies and card into his hands and urged him to open
it faster by hopping up and down, like the frogs inside the box.

The unsuspecting Neville pealed open the bright pink envelope, only to jump back in surprise as the words flew out of
the card in bright red ribbons, to float and dance around in front of his face.

"He's hidden so long

That our love can't be wrong

Forever together we'll stay.

He's saved the whole world

And I'm his one girl

On this Happy Valentine's Day!"

The words erupted into pink rose petals and fluttered to the ground, some catching in their hair.

"I love you, Neville!" Ginny smiled brightly, hugging him tight around the waist.

"Yeah, love you too," he said, blushing furiously. He couldn't believe it. He really couldn't. Someone loved him, someone
saw him...he was elated by it, by her. "I love you, Ginny."

They walked down together to the Great Hall, their hands clasped tightly as Ginny waved and smiled to the people who
would watch.

"Neville's really in love, isn't he?" Theo sighed. "Wish my life would be as easy, but..." he sighed in melancholy, before
picking himself up again. "Well, here goes!" Theo grinned to the rest of his table and jumped off the bench, a dozen red
roses in his hand.

He quickly scanned the room for Hermione and found her sitting beside Neville and a very amorous Ginny. Her warm
chocolate eyes snapped to meet his as he approached, and he felt his face heat up embarrassingly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione." Theo announced, handing her the bouquet rather stiffly. Her entire face lit up radiantly
as she smiled up at him, her large front teeth not even distracting from the sheer beauty and joy on her visage.

"Oh! Theo! You didn't need to!" she cried, flinging herself into his body. He shuffled awkwardly, not sure what to do. Was
he supposed to pat her on the back? Wait, was that more consoling? Was he supposed to breathe in her shampoo?
Strawberries...

"Er, you're welcome." Theo said as they pulled away. "And... y- you look very nice." He stuttered before trailing off lamely.

'You look very nice' had to be the understatement of the year. She was wearing a soft pink dress in favor of the holiday,
with little flower earrings to compliment her dress.

"Thank you!" Hermione murmured, eyes shining, and a blush creeping over her cheeks. "Oh, look at Professor Lupin!"

Like Hermione, half of the hall was staring at the professor whose face was blazing crimson. Sirius Black, wearing a
black tux and silver-studded collar, was walking proudly into the hall from the back door, a box of chocolates under his
arm. Most of the staff table, too, craned their necks for the best angle, and Severus found himself in that peculiar position
between a rock and a hard place.

"Padfoot...!" Lupin groaned. "What did I tell you about doing stuff in public?"

"What?" Sirius gasped in surprised. "This?- It's just a necklace, Moony, c'mon! Look, I got you chocolates!"

He placed them carefully in front of the wolf, and Lupin quickly hid them beneath the table. Sirius brushed off the slight
rejection, reaching into his robes for-

"IT'S A RING!" one of the students cried.

"Oh my!"

"They're getting married?"

"HE'S GAY?"

The Great Hall ignited into instant applause and chatter, the Gryffindors clapping loudest of them all. Theodore, caught in
the Lion's Den, simply clapped as discreetly as he could while making the most noise. A skill, one can be sure.

Severus watched emotionlessly as Sirius dropped to one knee on the other side of Lupin, and asked the fated question.

"Remus John Lupin, will you marry me?"

Lupin's face, if not yet red, turned five shades darker. "Sirius!" he pleaded.

"Well?"
The hall dropped to a silence, save for the myriad croaking chocolate frogs from everyone's red ribboned Valentine's
boxes...

Remus looked up into Sirius' shining eyes and smiled. "Always, Sirius. Yes."

And just like that, the applause was back, ten times louder. Sirius grabbed Lupin in a hug, before slipping the telltale ring
onto his finger.

"Well, well! Congratulations my boys!" Albus came in, clapping with the rest of the staff table, with a large smile stretched
from ear to ear. "How wonderful! Simply delightful!"

"The best Valentine's day, I'd say!" Hagrid chimed in from down the table.

"Stop! You're making him blush!" Minerva chided jovially. "Oh, it's really wonderful. Good luck, the both of you."

Lupin glanced helplessly all around the Great Hall before finally locking gazes with Sirius. "If you'll excuse us." he
announced, sliding easily from his seat and grabbing the chocolates and Sirius in one swipe. Knowing grins were
sprouting up about the room as Lupin ushered his new fiancé out, looking suddenly ten years younger.

.oOo.

I need Ravenclaw's diadem. I need Ravenclaw's diadem. I need Ravenclaw's diadem. Hasan chanted over and over in
his head. It was Valentine's day, and he just had this...feeling, this most peculiar feeling, that he should come to the
Room of Requirement and simply ask for the lost tiara. Why? He didn't know. Perhaps it was because he wanted
something to give to Luna- but even on that note, why? He didn't know. Was it love? Infatuation? Let it be known that
Hasan could not be infatuated by anyone or anything. It was all rather puzzling, and he paused a moment before entering
into the room of come and go.

The inside of the room was pure white, save for the beautiful ice blue sky and floor. On a plain wooden table lay a jewelry
box, open with blue satin lining, and the most breath-taking piece of jewelry Hasan had ever seen. For sitting innocently
in the case was a shimmering silver tiara with a large sapphire set as a raven's body. It cast light as a prism would, a
beautiful wholesome glow that made the whole room that much luxurious and divine. What was this?

He felt the pulling again. Wear me. Wear me.

But he refused to let those feelings surface. Something ominous hovered about the diadem, and Hasan was dead set
on finding what it was, before he just handed it off to Luna. He accio-ed it into his backpack and left the room as quietly
as he came, heading down the steps to breakfast. On his way, he saw Remus and Sirius fleeing from the thunderous
applause in the Great Hall. He supposed it had to do with their romance, and so continued on his way.

He worked his way through the Great Hall, past all the loving couples, finding his way to the safety of the Slytherin table.
Very much relieved that no one had caught him or suspected something of his absence. The tiara hung heavily in his
bag as secrets do in the presence of such gracious trust, and he decided to ask Tom about it later. He was practically a
walking encyclopedia of Hogwarts' History, knowing even more than Hermione, which was saying quite a lot. Every which
way he thought of it, he could not derive any backlash from informing Tom about his suspicions. He was so eager for
answers that he quickly excused himself from the table, only to realize one crucial thing: Draco wasn't there. Hmm, come
to think of it, neither was Tracey...Hasan smiled knowingly to himself as he exited the Hall, nearly ten minutes after he
came in, and headed down to the dungeons.

.oOo.

Severus Snape was still uncomfortably stiff at the wolf and mutt's amorous declarations. He never had a girlfriend,
though Lily Evans came close, and he never fancied anyone else. It was a lonely existence, being Severus Snape. But he
supposed it was for the best- in his line of work, sometimes going solo was best for everyone all around.

He stood up, leaving behind a semi empty plate, and was just leaving when Dumbledore caught him with those damn
twinkling eyes of his.

"So soon?" he asked lightly. "Don't you wish to see who's dating who?"

Snape fought to roll his eyes. "Headmaster, while the love affairs of my students are no doubt riveting, I'd rather not."

The bearded man nodded solemnly. "To each his own, but Severus, if you could- meet me in my office later?"

Snape nodded though his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And may I inquire as to why?"
Dumbledore's eyes had lost their twinkle and he smiled rather sagely. "Love is supposed to be wonderful, isn't it?"

.oOo.

Hasan imagined he would be met with a scene of Tracey and Draco snogging on the Slytherin couch, not Luna, Tracey,
and Draco looking up at him astonished as he entered the common room.

"Where've you been?" Draco demanded, sounding as if he had just spent the better part of the morning looking for a
runaway.

"Nowhere particularly interesting." Hasan said innocently. "Joyeuse Saint-Valentin, by the way."

Luna was beaming. "See, I told you he'd be back!"

"We were worried sick about you! We thought you'd taken off or someone had drugged you or something!" Tracey
protested. "I wanted to go down to breakfast ages ago!"

"Luna, why are you here?" Hasan asked curiously. Usually, students weren't allowed to visit other dorms unless
personally invited, which meant that she had to have had a purpose in visiting. It didn't occur to him that she might have
wanted to see him.

Tracey groaned and looked to the sky. "Merlin! Help us!" She turned to Draco and tugged on his hand, "Come on, I'm
starving!"

The two Slytherins made their way hastily out of the dungeons, though Hasan swore he saw them smirking.

"Bonne Saint-Valentin, Hasan." Luna smiled, approaching him in the empty dorm. Hasan felt his face heating up as it
finally dawned on him what she was here for. Certainly, he was fond of her, but for her to return those feelings? And even
then, Hasan was so unfamiliar with the term 'love' and all that it entailed.

"Oh. Happy Valentine's Day, Luna." Hasan said sweetly. The tiara rose to the forefront of his mind, and he felt this
inexplicable, burning need to give it to her...but the need came from outside himself...and he didn't trust it one bit.

Luna smiled and held out a red envelope addressed to Hasan in neat black cursive, as well as a small pouch.

"Luna-I can't-" Hasan stuttered uncharacteristically. He hadn't gotten her a thing and he hated debts! Why hadn't he
thought of buying chocolate frogs like the rest of the Wizarding world?

"Take them, silly. Consider it recompense for the Animagus work."

His train of thought halted instantly, accepting this new piece of logic. His mind annoyed even him sometimes, but he
was grateful for the gateway nonetheless. He took the envelope and pealed the gold sticker away in the shape of
dirigible plums. The parchment inside was heavy and probably expensive, but it was what was written upon it that
captured Hasan's interest.

"I'll read it." Luna offered immediately, taking back the paper nonchalantly, much to Hasan's surprise. "I actually didn't
write it, they're lines from 'A Nymph's Passion' by Ben Jonson. We were in the library and Ginny was writing something for
Neville, but I couldn't quite find the words. Some people just have the knack, and others. Well others just have a harder
time with it." She finished thoughtfully. Hasan blinked in interest before she took a deep breath and began.

"He is, if they can find him, fair,

And fresh and fragrant too.

As summer's sky, or purged air,

And looks as lilies do..."

A/N-

I hoped to add some fun to deviate from the main plot! But it is very important in its own way. For instance, Hasan is
becoming more emotional than before. So Luna knows- or does she? And Lupin and Sirius are so cute together!
Hasan's a parselmouth, but no one knows. Will someone break through the obliviate? With all these clues, when will
Lupin finally piece things together? Or Snape for that matter!
I'm confused. More than 600 people have followed this story but only ten solid people can find it in themselves to
review? That hurts. (Okay I'm joking...but seriously. REVIEW!)

Next Up: Ring of Power (Hmm, I wonder what that ring could be...)
*Chapter 16*: Ring of Power
A/N: Hello! I finally going on Vacation today! I'd appreciate it if you could PLEASE REVIEW. And let's not forget there's
now 304 of them!

Thank you very very much from the bottom of my heart all you wonderful people! Please enjoy this chapter! Another
thank you for greyhoundxx who has returned to beta-ing!

A/N2: I am very excited for this chapter because the plot is on a roll! Please take the time to review at the end
because out of all the chapters, this is one of the good ones. Well, at least there's a lot of action! ENJOY!

"Magic rings are—well, magical; and they are rare and curious."

- said by Gandalf in The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

Return of Emerald

Chapter 16: Ring of Power

Severus Snape swept out of his chambers near 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Damn Albus and his need to communicate
with him! "Love is supposed to be wonderful, isn't it?" Albus had told him earlier at breakfast. And though they were but 8
simple words, Snape knew that they had a meaning much more important behind them. He wasn't a spy for nothing: he
knew people. Their patterns, their mannerisms, their motivations. And right now, Snape was pondering Dumbledore's.

Love?

Like the love that was supposed to be in the Dursely household, erected around the Dursley household? Well, neither
loving relatives nor blood wards inhabited or environed Number 4, Privet Drive- Snape laughed derisively at the idea. No,
there was something the headmaster was hinting at, most likely something he had slowly been nudging Severus about
for weeks. The answer flashed like a streak of light through his mind.

Rings.

Somehow the headmaster's comment about befriending colleagues was all just a cover up for the real intent. Somehow,
Dumbledore had gotten himself into a potentially dangerous scenario...surrounding rings. To hell with seeing changes
in old enemies and reading muggle books, the old codger just wanted to tell him he had a ring! And the fact that Sirius
had just proposed somehow made Dumbledore's question on love that much more cryptic. If Severus were to wager a
guess, it would be that Dumbledore had a ring, most likely magical, in his possession, that may potentially have a
connection with love. Not a bad deduction for a Potions Master!

Speaking of rings, he had finished the entire muggle series from December to February, front to back, two times over.
And yet, there were no clues to be found! It was just as Lupin had said: the ring made the wearer invisible, or technically,
in another layer of existence... Which made sense, seeing as how Altair was (failing miserably at remaining) in hiding.
Still, Hasan was a mystery, as was the father. A mystery that Severus hoped to work out in their next Patronus session.

Snape rounded the corner and walked up to the gargoyle, barking "Chocolate frogs!" so that the staircase would emerge
and Snape could trudge on uninterrupted. He knocked thrice on the door, just for formality's sake, before receiving a
weary "Enter!" from none other than Albus Dumbledore. The man in question sat behind his desk, where on it sat
hundreds of his whizzing silver instruments. The former headmasters and headmistresses snored exaggeratingly loud,
confessing of their need to eavesdrop.

"Hello, Severus. Thank you for coming, though I know you are busy."

Not particularly, but Snape wasn't about to say that. Not like he needed to anyway: what was he going to do on Valentine's
day? Grade papers? They were already finished- damn his efficiency.

"It's of no consequence, Albus." Severus said, trying to keep the sneer from his tone.

Albus bowed his head, before making to get up, leaning heavily on his desk for support. His movements were slow, like
that of a giant tortoise, and yet very poised.
"And yet, I will thank you." Dumbledore returned evenly. He straightened and locked ice blue eyes with obsidian. "I
request the assistance of one trained in the Dark Arts." he informed Snape seriously, eyes never wavering and certainly
never twinkling. "I also have quite a few confessions to make."

Snape's eyebrow rose dubiously. The great Albus Dumbledore parting with one of his beloved secrets? Oh yes, he was
dead. He was dead! The world was reaching the end of existence! Snape nearly gaped at the headmaster, but the elder
man showed no signs of falsity.

"What?" Snape asked before he could stop himself. He didn't want to push, least the man changed his mind, but he felt
a physical need to exclaim something at this miracle.

"My dear boy, I had not wished to share this information with anyone. Not yet. The time isn't right, but then, is there ever a
right time to share these types of things?"

Out with it, old man!

Albus sighed and closed his eyes. "The prophecy, in full, the exact same one you had overheard and told to Voldemort."
Snape flinched- it was the greatest regret of his life. "But also the story of Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Tom? Snape had heard Dumbledore refer to Voldemort as Tom many times. Still, hearing his full name brought shivers
up Snape's spine.

"Why? Why now? What were you waiting for? Surely not for Harry Potter to return!" Snape laughed harshly. "Surely you
must be joking! Voldemort was in the school last year! We have dementors flying around the castle because of him! This
isn't the time to wait!"

Albus' eyes snapped back open, roaring with icy fire. "I know. Which is why I wish to tell you now. Severus, if you'll hear
me out." His voice reverberated with power, a wealth of ancient magic, swirling in the undulations of the wizard's voice.
Snape found himself enthralled by the authority commanded in this wizard, and he again reminded himself that this was
the person who had defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Not just the wizard who had sentenced Harry Potter to a life of
misery, but the only man whom the Dark Lord ever feared.

Albus ruled over this power now, his entire being infused in the magic of the centuries.

"I have made a great many of mistakes. So many that you will never know. But I am willing to open up now because I
must. Yesterday, I found something I had been searching for over the course of a year. I had interrogated an old friend of
mine, one I am sure you remember quite well: Horace Slughorn. I say interrogated because it was indeed an
interrogation. He had warped the memory beyond recognition and buried it under years and years of reassurance and
denial, and to recover it was to fight against his mental wards. This had occurred as soon as I had learned of Harry's
disappearance, and though he is undamaged mentally, I lost an old friend. An yet, I hold no regrets." His voice was grave
and laced with fire.

Severus was gaping. What memory had been so crucial that Albus had cut loose such an old friendship? What memory
was so crucial that Albus had to actually fight tooth and nail to obtain it? And they had all imagined him to be
unconcerned with the Potter boy, when he had sacrificed for...something. For something.

"What do you need me for, Albus?" Severus finally asked. "What are you planning to do?"

"I plan on destroying Voldemort. It is not the responsibility of an infant, a child, or a single being. It is for all of us. And I'll
start by telling you the prophecy."

Snape sucked in a breath as Dumbledore recited:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the
seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And
either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish
the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies." Albus clasped his hands in front of him and paced quietly to
stand in front of Snape, who, by the end, had found himself sitting in one of the headmaster's chairs, his legs seemingly
unable to hold him.

"So it means that...we're all doomed, essentially?" Severus whispered numbly, dread sinking into his heart as a serum
dripped from a needle. "Only Harry Potter can defeat the Dark Lord."

Albus nodded slowly, "...It would appear that way."

Snape eyes snapped to him, angry at being left to worry, but also desperate for the confirmation. "What are you not telling
me?" he demanded shrewdly.

"The prophecy, if interpreted right, only means that Harry must deliver the final blow. That is to say, anyone can b egin to
kill him up to that point."

As Snape was opening his mouth to protest that Albus had finally lost it, Albus drew his attention away by summoning
the stone pensieve from its crystal cabinet. Well shoot him dead!- giving up secrets and memories in one go?

"I believe that we should delve into the memories first. Do not protest, I promise I will explain all in time. They depict Tom
Riddle's beginnings at the orphanage, as well as the memories I have been able to secure about the Gaunt family, and
lastly the memory I procured taken from Slughorn; all of these condensed of course." Dumbledore looked from Snape's
incredulous face to the great silver clock on the wall with an expression of thoughtful speculation. "We should be out of
here by six."

The memories, misty silver, already swirling within the great basin rose up to great them, as the two wizards plunged
into their depths.

.oOo.

It was four o'clock, and Hasan found himself back in his dorm, hands cupping his cheeks, and jade eyes staring blankly
at his bookshelf. Where was it?

His Lord of the Rings Books had suddenly been returned to him in a small pile outside of his room. Mysteriously, Draco
had just parted with him down in the library, so it couldn't have been him to place them there...

Then, as he went to place the back on his shelf, he noticed something he should have noticed a long time ago: the diary
was gone. GONE. As paranoid as Hasan was, he hadn't even thought that the diary would disappear, either from theft
or...other means. He knew that the diary held a certain quality about it, a pull, a pull that was so similar...to the diadem?
What did it all mean? The first of what? he recalled asking. Instinctively, he knew that the diadem was one of them.

Hasan took the tiara out of his bag and cast several protective wards about it to defend from intruders, but also to defend
the intruders from it. Hasan wasn't quite sure what the diadem could do, but a certain feeling in his gut made him think
that it probably wasn't good...and seeing as the diary belonged to Lord Voldemort, Hasan was sure that both items could
do pretty nasty things.

He hid the tiara in the bottom of his trunk, safe inside the pouch that Luna had given him, (which just so happened to be
charmed so that only he could open it) and stared back at the book shelf. Why? It must have been Draco...right? Who
else? Unless...he vividly remembered that Lord Voldemort was a parselmouth and that the book could respond...he
didn't know where he was going with this. Books couldn't just hop up and leave! Especially under such shady
circumstances: Things weren't looking so great for Draco.

But thinking to the fashion in which the books were returned, it was obvious that Draco hadn't returned them. Which
meant a few things: Either Draco read the books and stole the diary, Draco didn't read the books and stole the diary,
Draco read the books but didn't steal the diary, or Draco didn't read the books and didn't steal the diary.

Which lead to: Who had he given the diary to?- unless it was stolen, and who had he given the books to?

Or perhaps he was collaborating? A group of two or more reading the books AND stealing the diary?

But who would want his books? Who was curious about him enough to be interested in a bunch of muggle books? Or
who was curious enough about books about rings to steal them? His mind came up with Lupin, the man who saw his
boggart which turned into a ring, but Lupin was a thief, and last time he checked, Draco wasn't too close with him,
thinking him a werewolf...which left Snape. His jade eyes flickered in sudden recognition.

Severus Snape.

What was it with the man and prying into his business? Sure, his father and he had some sort of history, brewing potions
and...wait, didn't Lupin receive the Wolfsbane Potion from him too? Perhaps, hypothetically, Lupin mentioned his boggart
because of Snape's inexplicable curiosity...perhaps Draco had given Snape the books- they were godson and godfather,
after all.

It was all so obvious.

And yet...the mechanism, the spark: Why was Snape so damn curious? His thoughts sprinted to the diary and the
diadem. Did Snape perhaps know what they were? They belonged to Lord Voldemort at some point in life, and come to
think of it, Hasan wasn't sure what side Snape was on anyway.

He turned his mind to Draco again. Maybe he had missed something? Why would Draco steal from him? Jealousy?
Anger? Curiosity? Or worse...the diary itself. Did Draco feel the pull as well? An icy dread settled over Hasan's heart as
he imagined the implications. Hasan had tried for the better part of two months not to let any thoughts stray towards the
diary. It was sinister; it had to be! A mystery, a secret...If Snape knew, would he tell Hasan? What if he denied it? And if
Lupin had indeed told Snape of his boggart, then who could he trust? Who could he trust to keep secret or to tell him the
truth? No one.

So where could he get the truth? Surely not the library: too crowded, and sure to have some sort of tracking charm for
one's book history. Besides, Hasan had a feeling that this wasn't something one could simply look up in a school library-
maybe not in any library.

So where?

His memories.

.oOo.

Hasan strode nonchalantly out of the castle, past the hallways full of snogging couples, and into the perpetual fog of the
outdoors. Disillusioned, no one stopped to question him where he had put his brain to step outside, alone, and invisible,
in a field of dementors.

Invisible, Hasan felt safe(r), not being able to bring himself to maximum security with the potential of dying looming
appetizingly on the horizon. He still would have preferred to have James Potter's Invisibility Cloak, but well, who needed
cloaks when one had spells? He walked forward, staying in the direct entrance of the building for a quick getaway, in
case of the worst. No one walked outside anymore, except for Hogsmeade on the other side of the castle, and even that
was with teachers and multiple other protectors. There wasn't quidditch due to a minimal turnout. The outside was
barren, lonely, and perfect for the guards of Azkaban.

The dementors sensed his presence immediately, the ten stationed outside the school swooping in a slow descent over
this warm body. They paused midway however, seeming to hesitate before advancing. This boy? This person? Was
he...emotionless? No. As they neared, the faint pulse of passionate waves leapt up from a contained mentality. His
emotions were buried so deep that the dementors questioned if he were even food. Perhaps he was a dog? Or a cat? Or
another one of those blasted owls?

Yet, even as his emotions waxed and waned, the dementors' affects were not in the least lessened. Still high in the air,
Hasan felt a pressure against his scar, and cringing, he fell to the floor in a kneeling position. His vision became
dim...gray...black...The dementors loomed closer, so close now. Their icy breath upon his face...white...white...WHITE!

His entire vision was swamped in b rilliant, radiant, effulgent light, so pure and plain and...figures, shapes, places. He was
descending, as if on a cloud, down to the Castell Estate, over the slate roof and short grass, and straight through the door,
somehow finding himself in his father's room. The b edchamb er of Altair Castell. There- right there, thick b rown hair, so
rich! Younger...the word floated to mind. Yes, younger. The diary of Tom Riddle sitting on the desk, two faces poring over
it, lit only b y the candles...

"That's a-?" Altair's distinct voice questioned in awe.

"It's one of them, yes. The first." the other said, a soft voice, a sweet voice...and yet so very vague. Altair reached out a
gentle hand to touch the cover and a gloved one shot out to stop it. "Don't touch it."

He turned his face towards Altair, and Hasan gasped. Lucius Malfoy?

"So...how do we destroy it?" Altair asked with a sigh.

"We don't."

"What do you mean?" Altair demanded.

"I mean we can't destroy it unless we find the sword of Godric Gryffindor or a b asilisk fang to stab it with." Lucius
explained petulantly. "And seeing as we have neither- Oh no, we are not raising a b asilisk!"

"Oh b e quiet, Lucy..."

White...white...grey...b lack...b lack...emerald.

.oOo.

Altair sat at his desk, reading Lucius latest letter with interest. He had received it only month or so...but did enjoy keeping
the man hanging to a point. Besides, for an owl to fly from Britain to Paris to back? Not exactly instant mail.

The letter was composed rather formally, with a Malfoy oath to top it off. A bit extreme, but very much appreciated. The
more cooperation, the less room for error. He was curious that Lucius had managed to pass on the diary...he wondered
where and who- though the why was fairly obvious. Lucius lived to discredit people- or, that was the joke anyway...or used
to be. Altair sighed and picked up his quill.

"Dear L.A.M.,

I appreciate your oath from the b ottom of my heart. As stated, here is my second task- one I know that will b e very much
in your power to complete, and very much in your interest to do so.

There is a house outside of the woods in Little Hangleton, b y name of the Gaunt House. It has b een deserted for many
years. I seek possession of a golden ring set with a b lack stone. You will know how to find it.

Best wishes,

A.D.C."

.oOo.

Lucius Malfoy, despite having told the man NOT to send letters during the day, found himself receiving one in the middle
of a rather late and lonely lunch. Most fortunately for him, Narcissa had gone out shopping (again), and Dobby wouldn't
dare tell on him...where was that infernal house-elf anyway?

The excitement at receiving a letter nearly two months overdue, however, outweighed his annoyance and he quickly tore
open the envelope...

...L.A.M and A.D.C. It was something he had forgotten, wasn't it? Something just beyond his reach, he felt the familiarity-
another subtle reminder of Lucius' dependency. But the rest...a ring? The man wanted him to go to an abandoned house
to get a ring? No 'it's in a cupboard' or 'it's under a cushion,' just a 'go to the house and hope for the best?'

But it did make him wonder: first a diary and now a ring? What connection? What significance? Even as he grabbed his
black cloak and spare wand, he pondered why he was even going to do this.

Lucius apparated to the outskirts of Little Hangleton and from there, strode to the forest, passing by a large and
sprawling cemetery. It was a short walk, ten minutes at most, until Lucius arrived in a dying grass field with a dilapidated
hovel backed up against some trees. The House of Gaunt indeed- Hagrid's meager hut was better than this! And yet,
something about the house made him decidedly uneasy. Perhaps it was the fact that the entire area wreaked of death
and decay, or maybe that the house was drenched and dripping with Dark Magic.

His cloak covered him from head to toe and his wand was out, poised in front of him. Taking a breath to steal himself,
Lucius strode to the door, where upon it was nailed a great shriveled snake. He curled his lip in disgust and pushed the
port open with his boot.

The inside of the house wasn't much better. Spider webs, cobwebs, more bugs, glass shards,...broken tables, chairs,
and nearly an inch thick of dust on everything! Even the air! Simply put, the place was a dump. Had no one thought to
clean it out? Obviously not. Lucius certainly wouldn't, what with the pure Black energy radiating off the place. If not for
Altair Castell, Lucius wouldn't even had stepped in it, wouldn't even have known it.

Some glass from a beer bottle crunched underfoot as the blonde wizard cautiously stepped about the site. His slate grey
eyes darted for any indication of what to do, but no clues were to be found.

"Accio ring!" Nothing. "Accio Gaunt's ring!" Nothing. "Accio Altair's ring!" Nothing. "Oh, for Salazar's sake! What am I doing
here?"

He ground his teeth furiously, kicking glass into the walls, when he felt a sudden pull on his magic. To the bedroom. To
the bedroom!

His legs carried him into a small room jutting off from the main one, that was furnished with but three things: a table, a
chair, and a bed. But as soon as he registered these, there was that gentle tug on his magic again. He pivoted and
nearly gaped in surprise: a swirling orb of Dark Magic (completely invisible, but easily sensed) surrounded a small
drawer in the wall. Ah! So this was what he meant by knowing, he thought, reaching for the hidden compartment. It
carefully slid out, not being a proper drawer, and Lucius brought it down to study its contents thoroughly.

A single ring, crudely made of dark tarnished gold, sat conspicuously in the little container. It did indeed bear a black
stone, and Lucius nearly smiled in triumph, but his job wasn't over yet. The dark magic pulsed around it in an arc,
invisible yes, and yet palpable. He began muttering a string of ancient spellwork, and as the wards fell away, he realized
with awe that it was not the magic, but the complexity of the overlapping spells that gave the shield that much strength.

Ten minutes later, and a sheen of sweat shone on his regal brow. The wards had finally buckled, falling away like the
peal of an orange, and the ring, singularly exquisite, sat harmlessly in his palm. He wasn't sure what it was, or why he
felt the need to try it on, to wear it...but he knew that anything buried beneath that much dark magic was rarely good. It
was common sense.

Lucius replaced the drawer back into the slot in the wall, and tucked the ring into his inner cloak pocket. He exited the
building before apparating away, wondering how the diary of Tom Riddle related to the ring of Gaunt...

.oOo.

Snape and Dumbledore flew out of the pensieve with similar expressions of horror, disgust, and loathing intermingled
on their horror-struck faces. Dumbledore's features were muted, however, but the severity of the situation wasn't any
less.

"That ring- is that what you've found?" Snape asked disbelievingly. "A horcrux? Is that what it is?" His sharp eyes held
nothing but worry. Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"I fear it is only one of many. As we learned from Tom Riddle's beginnings, he was always fascinated by trophies. He kept
a collection of stolen items I made him turn out at the orphanage. As you will also recall, he was fascinated by magic and
resented both his muggle family and his muggle blood, to the point of changing his name and killing the Riddle side of
his family. This happened while he was at Hogwarts, which can only mean that he had indeed created a horcrux while a
student."

"And the rest of these horcruxes?" Severus asked. "Do you believe he has succeeded in creating seven?" Merlin knew he
killed enough to split his soul to bits. But Severus also knew how dark and supremely dangerous magic dealing with the
soul could be. Splitting a soul was...against the very laws of the universe. It would render a person less than human, a
monster- namely, Voldemort.

"I have but the infinitesimal shadow of a doubt that Voldemort had not." Albus spoke. "As to the actually horcruxes
themselves, I believe that Tom's fascination with this school's history has lead him to covet items belonging to Hogwarts'
founders."

"The ring of Gaunt?" Severus probed.

"Yes, the Gaunt's were indeed descendants of our school's Salazar Slytherin. The ring, but also the locket you will notice.
Tom found particular significance in items belonging to Slytherin as they represented both his magic and his heritage."

"And you have found the hiding place?" Snape asked. "Albus, this is madness! If there are indeed seven pieces of
Voldemort's soul, they would be in the most infernal locations surrounded, I am sure, by layers and layers of the darkest
wards! To have expected Potter to go on such a hunt! Sheer madness!"

"I regret my past decisions, but right now we have in our power, the ability to destroy one of Tom Riddle's horcruxes: the
sword of Godric Gryffindor." He waved his arm and the old battered sorting hat came floating towards them. Snape
quirked an eyebrow and Dumbledore elucidated. "Only a true Gryffindor can pull the sword from the hat. When we return,
I'll call Neville to try it on- it's the least I can do for putting him through this whole ordeal...and he has borne it extremely
well."

Snape nodded tersely as the clock struck six. "The sooner we get this over with the better."

"I couldn't have put it better, my boy." Dumbledore nodded with a sigh. He placed the sorting hat on the desk and took up
a little silver snitch. "It's such a shame there wasn't quidditch this year, after all."

He held the portkey up to the light and then brought it back down in front of Snape. Understanding dawned on him, and
as their fingertips brushed the silver shell of the portkey, the ground dissolved beneath them.
.oOo.

The two wizards, Albus and Severus, materialized outside of a distasteful little shack, the exact same one they had
visited only mere minutes ago in the memories.

"The House of Gaunt." Dumbledore announced, striding purposefully to the door. A wrinkled, dead snake was nailed to
the port in a serpentine wave, and Severus swallowed thickly. Just because he agreed to do this didn't mean he was any
less nervous about chasing down a part of Voldemort's soul. The door creaked open and a swirl of dust puffed out to
greet them. Almost immediately, Severus could feel the dark magic saturated in the very fabric of the house, pulling
against his heart, the desire that all dark magic contained.

"It's here." Severus said suddenly. "I feel it."

Albus' blue eyes widened behind his spectacles and he turned to Snape with curiosity. "How can you tell? Is it the Dark
Mark?"

Snape started. He actually hadn't thought of that in light of the present situation. He rolled up his left sleeve to reveal an
inky black skull and snake.

"What is it?" Dumbledore demanded with concern, peering at the accursed forearm. "Oh my..."

"Yes." Snape nodded tersely. "It is indeed worrying- hardly surprising when so near a dark artifact."

"Where is it? Can you sense it?" Albus asked in earnest. His blue eyes a wild energy within his aged face. Snape stared
at the headmaster a moment longer, an odd feeling coming over his heart.

"Headmaster? Albus, are you alright?" Snape asked, voice not as harsh as usual.

"Where is it? Where is it?" Albus asked frantically, "The stone!"

Damn! Snape knew the headmaster was off all night! Something wasn't right; the man was possessed. Snape stepped
back in horror. If the Dark Lord truly had laid this trap, then he might have laid something specifically for Dumbledore...

"Albus! Albus! Get a grip!" Snape shouted, even as his magic urged him to enter the bedroom. "ALBUS!" he screeched
as the old man made a break for the dark magical origin. Snape raced him to the bedroom, but it was too late.
Dumbledore had found the secret compartment and had ripped it from the wall eyes darting hungrily inside the cavity
and inside the drawer.

"The ring! The ring!" Dumbledore shouted. "I know it's in here!"

Snape lunged for the drawer, knocking it from the headmaster's hands so that it crashed against the dusty wall. It was
like the Lord of the Rings all over again. But made this magical object so precious? Why did Albus want it apart from the
obvious reason of destroying it.

"ALBUS!" Snape cried, gripping his shoulders in a vice-like grip. "Look. At. Me."

The old man turned his weary and tearful eyes towards Severus and the mist whirling about in those blue icy depths
dulled immediately.

"S-severus..." His shoulders, wrapping in a light blue cloak sagged heavily against Snape and Snape wasn't sure quite
what to do. Luckily, the headmaster regained his senses and sat up moments later, fixing Severus with a stare of one
who had lived a long time. "I'm weak."

His voice was small and yet so loud in the silent house.

"No, you're not weak." Severus said tiredly. "The Dark Lord had laid a trap. He's killed millions before-"

"No. It wasn't him." Albus dissented. "It was me...all me." A great sadness emanated from the wizard, and Severus
couldn't help getting swept up in the currant. "But let us turn our mind to the present. The ring. It's not here."

Severus sighed. He felt it as surely as he knew. "But it was, recently. Did the Dark Lord remove it? Or perhaps a
follower?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "None that would have this knowledge. It's very possible that I had miscalculated the
location, or that Voldemort had moved it."
There was silence, broken only by the distant calling of spring birds. "Wait." Snape interjected suddenly. "Hold on. This,
these footprints. They're recent." His eyes widened as he took in a foot print beyond his own, right at the base of the wall.
His gaze lingered before following the trail to the main room. "The question is who."

Dumbledore's face seemed to crack in a million tatters. "We're too late. But I have the distinct feeling that it was a friend."
They both ventured to the main room, scanning for clues, and found glass moved from their original locations and burst
against the wall. "Most likely they had not been given directions on where to find it, explaining a need for frustration
release."

"And if it were the Dark Lord, he would not have left footprints, unless he was paranoid enough to make it look like a set
up. A highly unlikely scenario, since the main reason he would have to remove it would be for fear of discovery. The Dark
Lord wouldn't waste time creating such a puzzle." Snape concluded. "And a follower would have been told explicit
instructions to leave minimal evidence. So this is not the work of a Death Eater, unless of a Death Eater gone rogue."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, stroking through his long beard. "I fear I have wasted our time, and yet, it makes me
inexplicably happy to know we have an ally somewhere. Even if that ally has no means to destroy it."

But already, Snape's mind was miles away. An ally. One against the Dark Lord. One that knew something of the Dark
Lord. One with enough time to set a puzzle and the luck to set it just before Dumbledore's search. No this was beyond
luck. This was the work of Altair Castell.

.oOo.

"HASAN, WAKE UP!" Sirius Black bellowed in the kid's ear, slapping his face from side to side. "HASAN! YOU IDIOT!
WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING OUTSIDE?" SEVERUS WOULD SKIN ME ALIVE! WAKE U-"

"Quiet." Hasan hissed, his hand shooting out and grabbing Sirius' hand so that he could be spared the incoming slap.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Sirius cried, close to tears. "Can you stand up?"

Hasan nodded before his head throbbed painfully. What the hell?

"I saw your hand sticking inside. You must have hit your head on the door..." Sirius supplied, swallowing. "Just stay here,
I'm going to get Poppy. Oh, wait, I can use magic-"

He levitated Hasan onto a conjured stretcher and rushed him to the infirmary, snatching a chocolate frog from some
second year girl, Luna Lovegood, he thought, and shoved it in Hasan's hand. Hasan chewed at it thoughtfully letting the
warmth flow through him as Sirius raced down the halls, Hasan's stretcher floating behind.

"Out of my way!" Sirius barked to lovebirds, snogging intensely outside the infirmary. "Poppy! Poppy!" He burst into the
ward and levitated Hasan onto a clean white hospital bed, screaming 'Poppy!' at the top of his lungs.

The mediwitch had been enjoying a relatively pleasant year without any scrapes or injuries, largely due to fact that
quidditch had been canceled. Resting in her office with a book on Magical Herbs propped up on her desk; she practically
jumped in surprise at Sirius' shouts, tying on her apron as she ran.

"What is it, Sirius? What? Oh my!" Her eyes had just caught sight of Hasan's brown braid hanging off the infirmary bed,
and she wet her lips nervously. Hasan's skin was a deathly, clammy pale, and his eyes were shut tight though he
chewed silently on a beheaded chocolate frog. "What happened? Was it-?"

"Yes. I found him outside with his hand in the door. He must have hit his head." Sirius informed her quickly. "The
dementors were swarmed around him when I opened the door, but his soul seems safe enough."

"Mr. Castell, can you hear me?" Poppy asked seriously.

Hasan cracked open his eyes and winced. "Yes."

"Good, now I'm going to cast a diagnosis spell on you and come back with a box of chocolate frogs, goodness knows we
have enough of them." Madam Pomfrey muttered, casting the spell with complicated swirls of her wand. "Hmm, minor
bruising to the back of the head, thankfully nothing else, though you may experience a slight headache. I'll be right back
with the chocolate frogs." The mediwitch bustled away, leaving Hasan and Sirius alone.

"What were you doing out there?" Sirius demanded. "If I hadn't gotten there in time-! The dementors were surrounding
you!"
Hasan groaned and covered his eyes. His skull was pounding and he wasn't sure why. His heart was racing and his
entire body ached. The memory, the diary... so much information throbbing painfully against his thoughts. But the
emerald light! So beautiful...

"I'm sorry." Hasan said quietly. "I just get lonely on Valentine's Day and wanted to get away."

The answer shot to Sirius' heart, for he had been on cloud nine the entire day. The thought that Hasan felt so alone as to
want to be with dementors!

"Don't worry about it, kid." Sirius sighed. "Just pray that Severus won't kill me."

"Do I mean that much...to him, I mean?" Hasan queried, "Or does he really not like you?"

Sirius chuckled softly. "A little bit of both, I think. When we were children, we didn't get along very well."

"Ah. I see. What time is it?"

"Seven." Black answered. "We'll bring dinner to you later."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks." Hasan groaned. Just then, Poppy came back with the chocolate amphibians, and shoved a
couple in Hasan's hands.

"Eat up, eat up! I told Albus not to let dementors guard the school! But I suppose we can file a formal complaint now that
you've been attacked." she added thoughtfully. "Yes, I'd like to see Fudge worm his way out of that one: Fudge insists
Dementors stay at school after Student almost Dies! Ha! But are you alright, Mr. Castell?"

Hasan nodded. "Fine. I just have a killer headache."

"Well, we'll be alerting your head of house as soon as he gets back." Poppy told him.

Gets back?

"Where is he?" Hasan asked sharply.

"Oh, well. He and the headmaster went out on some errand or other." Poppy said with a frown. "But he disappeared three
hours ago. Sirius, do you want to check the office?"

"Yeah, just hang tight, Hasan." Sirius mumbled and walked out the door.

Hasan's eyelids fell heavily over his jaded orbs, and before he knew it, sleep was leading him away...

.oOo.

Snape sat in a white infirmary chair beside Hasan's sleeping form. As soon as he and Dumbledore had reached the
castle, Sirius Black had come bursting in, requesting both of their prescences.

"Dumbledore, Sn-severus! Hasan, the dementors!"

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes at the fact that Black called him by his name hardened at the second part of the yell.

"He's in the Infirmary." Sirius had panted. "He was fine and then he just sort of blacked out."

Dumbledore had sagged where he stood.

"Go. I'll talk to Cornelius about the dementors."

"Are you going to be alright?" Severus had asked hastily, heading towards the door.

"Yes, go."

And now, Severus found himself alone, but for Hasan's unconscious form, with a quill and parchment in his hand. Altair
said not to contact him unless in a case of dire emergency...but Severus had a feeling that this qualified. The color had
returned to Hasan's cheeks, but otherwise, he was out like a light. His chest rose shallowly and an open box of
chocolate frogs lay on the bedside table.

How should he begin?

Dear Castell, your son nearly received his first kiss! (From a dementor.)

Yeah, he was sure that would go over well. Severus heaved a sigh. He almost wished that today had been another
normal, absolutely boring Valentine's Day...Could he never catch a break?

He was still exhausted from his escapade with the headmaster, and the extremely condensed lesson on Voldemort's
past. Learning that Hasan had been outside, unconscious, and surrounded by dementors really put the icing on the
cake. But still, he had to think why. Was there a correlation between the missing ring and Hasan being outside?

While Hasan was no doubt connected to rings, Snape was highly skeptical that he was the one who stole the horcrux.
Still...Snape peered at Hasan's fingers and spotted a most peculiar silver band on his hand. It wasn't gold nor was it set
with anything, but Snape found himself gently sliding it off and examining it. Suddenly the ring began to burn, not enough
to harm anyone, but just enough to alert of...wait, were they words? His obsidian eyes widened imperceptibly as his grip
tightened on the silver band.

'Hasan, are you alright? N.L.'

A protean charm? His gaze trailed back to Hasan, then down again at the ring. Had he cast the protean charm? Where
had he even learned such a- Altair. Of course. But if he knew this, then did he know others? Did he know how to cut
through the Dark Lord's wards? The idea was extremely unlikely.

Severus slipped the ring back on the boy's finger and began to write.

"A. Castell,

Your son nearly got kissed b y a dementor today. But as I'm already troub led to write to inform you of his wellb eing, do
you or do you not know anything ab out Gaunt's ring? Humor me. I don't b elieve in luck.

Regards,

S.S."

.oOo.

Altair Castell was enjoying a very busy Valentine's Day. Despite living alone and in hiding, with a snake as company, a
broad smile painted the sage lines of his face. He had just received Lucius' letter and now the ring lay upon the table,
odd parts of it glinting from the crude indents and make.

"Ah! The Deathly Hallows!" Altair hummed to himself, studying the triangular insignia. It had been his favorite fairy tale
growing up, and was as recognizable as the Dark Mark. He believed in the myth to an extent, but the point was, it could
possibly be an indicator of the Dark Lord's belief in the three hallows as well. Which meant that sooner or later, the
wizard would go after the wand, and thus in turn, Dumbledore might possibly die...But this was of little consequence.

He had one of them now. It had been as simple as wizard's chess! Tell the pawn to move and he moved! Tell the pawn to
fetch and he fetched! But Lucius was no ordinary pawn, if anything, Altair thought of him as the queen- not all owing to his
flowing mane and tendency for drama...

He picked up Lucius' letter and scanned over the lines once more. The house had been covered in inch thick dust, full of
broken glass and bugs. He told of the location of the ring, but also asked for its significance. The two questions were
thus: Have you destroyed my memories? Do I have the chance of getting them back?

"Dear Lucius,

I thank you for your speedy delivery and consideration for venturing into such a dreadful place. As thank you, here are
the answers to your three questions: 1) The ring has a separate significance for separate intents. For instance, it
b elonged to Marvolo Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. For him, it was an heirloom, a priceless testament to his
heritage. To me, it is simply a tool. And to you, it is b ut a task on the rung. 2) Have I destroyed your memories? I thought I
had covered my tracks well enough- apparently not. Your memories are still in existence, b ut not in my possession.
They're safe enough. 3) A chance at getting them b ack? Perhaps, perhaps not. It all depends on how well and if you
ob ey. By the b y, have you ever heard of Slytherin's locket? It once b elonged to the Gaunt's b ut a certain tragedy
overthrew them. Perhaps some prying is in Order?

Happy Valentine's Day,

Altair"
Just as he sealed it up, Raven came hooting into the room through the window. His eyebrows rose in surprise, as she
wasn't supposed to bring him something unless in a dire emergency. Hasan...

He let Raven nibble on an owl treat as he relieved the owl of its burden. He sliced open the letter with wandless magic
and read cursorily...

... Dementors? When had Hogwarts gotten dementors? And why? Was the Dark Lord about to return? Was the school
undergoing a reform? Who was supposed to control them? He was ready to burn Albus Dumbledore to the ground. But
aside from this, Severus' knowledge of the ring intrigued him. He knew how well-informed Severus was about these
things that no one knew about, and so wasn't gasping in surprise.

What amused him, however, was how quickly Severus had been able to deduce he was involved. And hang on a
second...Severus knew something about the ring as well. Altair had no doubt that Albus had cracked the code, so
perhaps Severus was closer to the headmaster than he had previously thought...interesting. So close, in fact, that they
probably had gone after the ring today- it didn't take a genius to figure out where it would be hidden, and if Lucius didn't
cover up his tracks...well, it was no surprise that Severus had made a guess.

"Dear Severus,

Thank you for informing me. I'm worried, of course, b ut I know you will do everything in your power to help Hasan
recover. As for your second point, I hope this answer sates you for a while:

The ring? I'm staring at it.

Best regards,

A.C."

A/N: Oooh! What's going to happen? What is Altair doing with the ring? What's with Altair's memories? Will the
dementors leave? And wow! Lucius got there first! Will Dumbles realize there is someone else besides Voldemort
who's playing the game?

I'd love to hear your thoughts! I'm going to be on vacation this week so PLEASE REVIEW! It'll make me happy! Plus,
I'll write faster while I have some spare time!

Next up: Taking up the Helm

(A nod to the LotR)
*Chapter 17*: Taking up the Helm
A/N: Thank you for everyone who has shown this story support! Remember all that stuff about Animagi? Well it's
coming back! It might seem a bit out of place now, but I assure you that they will be using their forms in chapters to
come! Also there's a VOTE at the end, as well as a large plot hint...

Return of Emerald

Chapter 17: Taking up the Helm

Severus stared down at the parchment in his hand, head bent, greasy hair falling over his face, and great hooked nose
hanging in his line of vision. He had the ring. Altair Castell had the ring. Severus took several deep breaths to steady
himself; his head was feeling light.

What the fuck.

"Sweet Merlin! Do you have any mercy for me?"

The candles flickered, casting shadows across the cleared desk and crumpled page. The headmaster was currently
oblivious, and yet, seemed more alive than ever. He was finally taking up the helm he had thankfully placed down after
the battle with Grindelwald. He was finally taking responsibility for the fate of the Wizarding world...just so that Altair
Castell could come swooping down and swipe the ring from their snatches! But why? For what purpose? The man was
an idiot! What had Severus missed? And his son, presently unconscious in the hospital wing- Albus was talking with
Fudge about the removal of the dementors from the premises. What had the boy been doing outside anyway?

The ring, the boggart, the parseltongue, the Animagus, the memories... He wondered, even now, if Lupin knew too much.
A simple obliviate would do to erase all the evidence warranting Hasan Castell for investigation- Merlin knew he did not
want his loyalties questioned because of Altair Castell of all reasons! Just when the light had come to view him as a
semi-human being, they would all jump at the chance to color him black and incriminate him once more: in league with
Death Eaters, hiding valuable secret from Dumbledore. Yes, Rita would have a field day.

But he wouldn't. And why? It was unnecessary- what if Siri- er, Black found out and linked it to him, where would he be
then? Oliviating people left and right, no, that would be illogical. And, although he didn't want to admit it, he felt a sort of
loyalty to Lupin for keeping his secret about his investigation on Hasan. Maybe Lupin would hear something, see
something that would help? Oh, who was he kidding? The damn wolf was growing on him and no way was he fucking
around with anyone's brains.

He groaned and tossed the letter in his drawer. It was late, entirely too late to be up thinking. He walked slowly into his
chambers and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey. Perhaps it was time to just unwind? The sweet burning taste hit his
tongue dryly, sliding over his palate like a desert snake...

.oOo.

Hasan cracked open his slick slanted lids, large smooth scales brushing pleasurably against the cold wooden floor. His
tail extended far behind his head, twenty feet or so, impressive among any snake. Gleaming pointed fangs protruded
from his strong jaws, a thin, papery tongue darting out to taste the sultry air.

It was morning, and the sun struggled through the thick black curtains to cast shapeless shadows on the floor. His plan
was running smoothly, and yet, he needed another, he needed another...And poor Pettigrew never did possess the
brains to avoid capture. After this one, he'd be able to make Nagini so completely a part of him and absorb enough Dark
Magic to regain a form. A crippled form, a terrible, pitiful form, but a form none the less...

A creak at the door alerted of the man's presence. He was called Frank Bryce by the locals and was once the Riddle's
gardener, he still was, if you ignored the fact that the Riddle's were dead, killed in this very house in fact without any
indication of how, many, many years ago. The electric light buzzed and flickered in the foyer, as Frank entered the manor
with a set of jingling keys. Hasan watched two feet step before his eyes, clad in heavy leather boots with an untied lace,
and a cane. He curled into himself beneath the foyer chair, head tilting upward at just the right angle to see the man. He
was an older gentleman, heavily lined face, tired but sharp eyes, and an overall slight disposition. Not as significant,
valuable, or difficult as Hasan would have liked, but he would have to do.

The hallway lights switched on full blast with the exclamation of, "My god-!" and a dropping jaw. His cane rose, poised to
jab at the serpent, but Hasan was too fast! Lightning quick, his body lunged forward in a powerful release of his
tightened muscles, and his long thick fangs protruded into the cane, snapping it cleanly, splinters flying everywhere.

"Ge' off! Ge' off! I'll kill those Lexington boys, always playing practical jokes!"

Frank tossed the desecrated stick to the ground, hitting the floor beside Hasan. Pitiful muggle, Hasan smirked, rearing
against the padded cushion of the chair before seizing the man's good leg between two powerful jaws. His venom
dripped into the bleeding flesh; he could feel the poison leaving him, replenishing, flowing. The man let out a strangled
scream, falling crippled against the wall without use of either of his legs. His hands went out to beat the serpent,
slapping wildly against the scaly armor, to no avail. Hasan clenched tighter in warning, the rest of his body following in a
coil, slowly constricting about the man's thigh and upper knee. Tighter...tighter...

"AH! Goddammit!" Frank had no family, and most of the town thought he was either insane or a murderer. Who would
answer his pleas at 4 in the morning? Who would dare come running to the Riddle House? For Frank Bryce? Surely
not...

Hasan chuckled around his mouth full of blood, relishing in the hopelessness rolling off the man in waves. He let the
energy fuel him, internalizing it within himself! Ah! Glorious dark energy! Whooshing like a broken damn; the floodgates
were open! Hasan spat out a hunk of clothing and wrapped himself tighter, poising for the final strike.

SNAP!

His jaw disfiguring the man's skull, his teeth ripping through flesh and bone and blood. The man was incessantly
screaming now, or perhaps Hasan had finally just noticed? No matter, the man stopped struggling, his limbs going
slack, his screams a gurgle...

Dead. Frank Bryce was dead. Ah! What it felt like to be this empowered! The Dark Magic was swirling about him, enticing
and sweet and seductive. He breathed it in and shut his lids.

Nagini, you will be the sixth. The sixth. My sixth...

.oOo.

Hasan's jade eyes snapped open, the bright light of the infirmary flooding through him like a laser beam. He cringed,
biting his lip as the sound returned around him.

"He's awake!" Neville screamed, seemingly on the verge of tears.

"Thank Merlin, took you long enough." Draco muttered, though he too sounded very much relieved.

Hasan removed his hand and peered about himself in curiosity. Surrounding his white infirmary bed stood Luna, Draco,
Neville, Hermione, Tracey, and Daphne. They wore similar expressions of concern and relief, but in his mind's eye, he
could only see the blood. The gushing sanguine liquid, the taste of burnt iron dry on his tongue and in his nose and-

"Quick! Get Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione yelled with widened eyes as someone conjured a basin, and he dumped his
head and purged his body.

"So that's what it's used for!" Luna's voice floated brightly. Glancing up, Hasan found that it was her slender hands that
grasped the sides of the black bowl. "Evanesco!" she said as he recovered, and the waste and its container vanished
instantly. She handed him a glass of water and another basin for him to rinse his mouth, vanishing both of these soon
after their use had run out.

"W-wow. Good thinking, Luna." Hermione said breathlessly.

"Yes, thank you." Hasan spoke, yet his voice came out scratched and dry, though he couldn't remember screaming.

His companions looked at each other warily and he frowned at their obvious secrecy. "What is it?" Hasan demanded,
glaring heatedly at Draco. He wasn't certain of the entire story, but he knew that Draco had, in some way or another, lied
about either the diary or the books. This was his chance to redeem himself and so help him if he wasn't ready to speak...

Draco's pale cheeks flushed a slightly as he nodded. "You, you were ah-" he scuffed his shoes and Daphne looked
down at him expectantly. "-muttering in your sleep."

Neville gave a few quick, nervous nods, his hands a tangled mess in front of him.

"About what?" Hasan asked nonchalantly. Had they heard? Did they know? Did they know that he-? That he was-? That
he had been-?

"Nothing really-"

"Oh, for Salazar's sake, Draco!" Daphne yelled, "Just tell the boy! Hasan, I'm not sure what your dream was about, but
you just kept muttering 'the sixth, the sixth' over and over."

"Oh." Hasan said. He swallowed and looked up at Luna, calming himself as he gazed at her misty orbs. "It was actually
a date that I was planning on having one of the meetings."

"Meetings?" Tracey piped up.

"Yes!" Luna interjected dreamily. "Hasan's going to teach us to cast the Patronus charm."

The Slytherin girls blinked in shock. "So is that why you went outside? To practice?" Daphne screeched. "You could have
died! Or been kissed! Or both! Hasan, I swear if you don't kill yourself, I will!"

Hasan shrugged stoically.

"Don't you dare shrug like that, Hasan Castell!" Tracey snapped.

"W-would you like to come to a meeting next year?" Neville offered hastily from the side. "Hasan's not really in any shape
to start training people now, but I'm sure we can manage with more of us later..."

"Oooh! Like a Defense Association?" Hermione echoed. "That sounds like fun!"

But while the rest of them were carried off by the prospect, Draco looked at Hasan oddly, shrewdly. In a way he would
look at Ron or Lavender or Pansy when in the halls.

"The sixth what?" Draco asked bluntly. "You threw up! I want to know. You keep everything to yourself! I'm concerned about
you!" His voice rose higher and higher, face screwing up heatedly as if fighting against it, "No, don't just sit there looking
at me like that! You fucking went after dementors and I intend to know why!" His hands were clenched in fists at his sides
and his silver eyes were razor sharp.

"Draco!" Tracey gasped, glancing about wildly for Madam Pomfrey to come shoo them out for disturbing her patients.

"No, Draco needs to blow off steam like steamed dumplings." Luna informed her with a sad smile. The tension
loosened somewhat, and Hasan grabbed this moment to soothe the ruffled feathers.

"I...am sorry." Hasan sighed, looking at his hands which he innocently clasped. "I didn't mean to get into trouble with the
dementors. They make me feel sick to my stomach, you saw on the train." Hasan pleaded. "And the sixth really was just
a date. Can you make it? April 6th?"

Draco's face softened marginally. "Don't do something stupid like that again, Castell." He clapped the boy playfully on the
back, but Hasan could see, out of the corner of his eye, a glint of suspicion, rightfully there, but troubling all the same.

"It's great," Hasan began, looking at each and every one of them in the eye, "to have friends like you." His jade eyes
landed on Luna's silvery orbs and her face blanketed out into a porcelain mask. Feelings shut tight behind a bolted door.
Hasan shut his eyes. "Merci."

.oOo.

Lupin made his way groggily from the bedroom to the kitchenette, dressed in a shaggy gray bathrobe. Sirius was waiting
for him at the table, sitting bent, with his head tilted to the side and eyes staring tiredly into space. It had been about a
month since the proposal, and the marriage was scheduled for the coming summer. But it was also a month since the
dementors had attacked and nearly killed a student, and the creatures were only just being led away today.

Lupin sighed as he imagined how Sirius must be feeling: the tumult of emotions, the alleviation of nightmares; the
dementors were finally gone and Sirius was finally and truly free. While Sirius remained at Grimmauld Place from time to
time, his main residence was inside the castle. His ancestral home was simply too...morbid, not that his mother or
Kreacher helped that at all. Dobby stopped by rather often, helping to maintain the semi-habitable conditions that
Kreacher would thoughtlessly destroy. Sirius was rather fond of the little elf, even though he wasn't sure where exactly he
came from. In fact, Sirius simply assumed that he had been hired sometime during his absence, which was a long one,
from his family. It wasn't that far-fetched: The Blacks were rich and family stretched for miles. If the last lineage of some
obscure part-Black died, then their house-elf would be sent to the Black heir, and Dobby was, after all, a Black-owned
house-elf...

"Siri?" Remus ventured, voice hoarse from sleep. He edged around the table and leaned over Sirius' shoulder. "What are
you thinking of?"

The curly haired man shrugged, hands curling on the table.

"D...dementors." Sirius murmured resignedly. He lifted his great head to stare up at his mate and nodded knowingly to
himself. "Fear, in essence." A slight smile tugged at his lips, and Remus felt himself smile in response.

"I see."

Remus tapped the table with his wand, and two mugs of milky coffee appeared.

"Thanks." Sirius muttered, wrapping his fingers around the warm cup.

"You know, Dumbledore has wanted them gone since day one." Lupin began mildly, sliding smoothly into the chair
beside his mate. "I suppose Hasan was a blessing in disguise. The Ministry had to listen-"

"Oh, how can you say that?" Sirius wailed. "He could have died! He only went outside to be alone and could have died!"

Lupin frowned into his drink as he took in the entire conversation. Sirius was obviously in need of some venting, but not
about this, he was connecting the deaths of James and Lily to Hasan Castell. Without Peter, without dementors...but
looking at Sirius now, he was clearly not in the mood to have a cathartic soul-healing session. Actually, Lupin was pretty
sure he never was and never would be. Thus, he resolved to himself to entertain the current topic for Sirius' sake.

"Sirius, this is not your fault. The dementors were placed because of Peter, not you, and Hasan only went outside
because-"

His amber eyes widened in sudden elucidation.

"Because-" Sirius echoed numbly when Lupin didn't elaborate. Sirius glanced to his side and was shocked to find an
expression of astonishment and dawning realization. "What? What is it, Moony?" he asked excitedly.

"Who wouldn't know that the school was surrounded by soul sucking dementors? Isn't it a little suspicious that the one
day everyone is too involved with er-" Lupin blushed brightly before plowing ahead,-"other things to pay attention to
anything else, that Hasan decides to slip from the castle and take a pleasant little breather? Wouldn't he feel the effects
as soon as he opened the door? And yet you saw him lying with his head against the door, and his hand inside the
building?"

Sirius, a look of bewilderment but also of an inkling of comprehension painting his face, stuttered in response. "Y-yeah.
But do you honestly think he was meeting someone?"

Lupin shook his head. "I'm not sure what to believe, but for him to be in that position suggests that he was standing up
far enough away from the door, that he knew what he was doing and the risks. He also had passed out, so he might
have been meeting someone? But then, wouldn't they have been outside as well? No, I don't think he was having a
rendezvous."

"So...er, suicide?" Sirius asked. "That's the only explanation. Unless of course, we just accept that he was outside for a
breath of fresh air..."

Lupin shrugged and took a long draught of his coffee. "He's a mystery. A boy who can talk to snakes- unheard of except
for Salazar and You-Know-Who! And his boggart! Not to even mention the interest Severus has shown the child."

"Snape?" Sirius asked, "Well, no wonder he likes the kid! He's a Slytherin through and through. I talked to him one day in
the trophy room- not sure what he was doing in there- but I told him a bit about James and quidditch."

Remus stared as if in a trance. "James? You talked to him about James?"

Sirius nodded, wetting his lips. "Yes, why?" Why was it that talking of James was bad? Hadn't Remus always told him
that talking was one of the many paths to healing? Or perhaps he was just irritated because Hasan was a kid and
tragedies shouldn't be dumped on kids...?

Remus shook his head. "Hasan's boggart. It was Harry."

"Harry Potter?" Sirius gaped. "W-what? How?"

"I don't know why." Lupin admitted wearily. "But it makes me wonder why the Potter's keep popping up around him. With
Harry gone, you don't think he knows something, do you- ah..."

"What? What?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Snape. That's why he's so curious. Ever since his first year, or at least what I've heard from Minerva, Snape's been
keeping an eye on him."

"But that can't be right!" Sirius protested, smashing his mug to the table. "Hasan can't have anything to do with Harry's
disappearance! Dumbledore would know, wouldn't he?"

Remus sighed. "Yeah...perhaps. Maybe his family just brainwashed him into believing ill of the Boy-Who-Lived, and he
was just innocently looking at trophies, and innocently having a breather. Maybe Snape's just curious about Hasan like
the rest of us."

The two looked at each other, and Lupin placed his hand over Sirius' under the table. Grief.

"I'm sorry. How can a schoolboy even be involved?" Lupin sighed. "I'm just trying to connect everything with Harry- 'where
can we look next? Where is he?' And while Hasan's unusual, I don't believe he's a bad kid." He shook his head, "No, I'm
just... I'm such a hypocrite, Padfoot; I'm having such a hard time moving on. Just because Hasan's different doesn't
warrant suspicion..."

Sirius nodded slowly. "No, he doesn't. Well-" he glanced at the clock and back at Lupin, "-we better get ready.
Dumbledore wants us to meet at Grimmauld Place at twelve."

"Did he say why?"

"Yeah, something about the Order of the Phoenix."

.oOo.

Grimmauld Place, ordinarily so dark and eerie, was now filled with a collection of the most unusual people. Dumbledore
took the head of the room, wearing a shimmering purple robe and a matching hat. It was nearing the end of March, and
the Ministry had only just pulled the necessary strings to rid the school of dementors. Fudge was less than happy about
the entire situation, as he wanted to be seen protecting the school, and yet as the hero of the school children all the
same- which would have been perfectly possible if not for the soul sapping creatures at the heart of it all.

Withdrawing the dementors was a sign of going back on his entire 'protect Hogwarts' promotion, but keeping them there
was simply not an option! Imagine if Neville Longbottom was next? The uproar he would have to deal with! Albus
Dumbledore had, of course, promised to try to keep the horror story under control, but hinted at how funny things could
just slip out. In actuality, he had no intention of letting the story leak out either. For one, he was all very confused about the
child known as Hasan Castell, and if investigations were made, Albus would rather the boy be very much away. For two,
he wanted those vile things gone. Just thinking about the complaints Minerva would have about quidditch being
cancelled for a second time was enough to give him a headache!

"Welcome! Welcome!" Albus called out loudly, silencing the talkative crowd at once. "Thank you all for coming on such
short notice, and a special thank you for Remus and Sirius for letting us all into your home." The couple nodded in
acknowledgement, and the headmaster continued. "I have called this meeting in the hopes of reviving the Order of the
Phoenix."

At this, Molly Weasley's eyes went huge and she gaped at Dumbledore for all it was worth. Arthur, beside her, schooled
his features as he tried to understand what it all meant. The Order hadn't been called since before Voldemort killed the
Potters! And then, there had been no reason to keep it going... could it be? The Weasley's paled.

"B-but why, Albus?" Molly asked shakily. "Surely there's nothing for us to do!"

Albus smiled sadly and shook his head. "Alas, there is always more to do. More specifically, I have made a very grave
mistake."

Augusta Longbottom, dressed in a moss green coat, gasped in supposed realization. "I knew it!" she screeched
accusingly, pointing her finger at Dumbledore. "I knew Neville didn't have the magic in him!"

Minerva fidgeted uneasily beside the headmaster before looking challenging up at him. Albus, either oblivious or
pretending to be, simply shook his head again. "The part of the prophecy as was published in the Daily Prophet is
authentic. However, I have come to realize that it is absolute drivel that a boy, a child, should be under such a burden!
How can we place all our hopes in a single person? It is absurd to even consider!"

"Albus, are you saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?" Kingsley asked bluntly.

"I am afraid it is so." Albus sighed to the utter horror and astonishment of the Order, "Though to be correct, Voldemort
was never truly gone."

Severus cringed only slightly at the name, about to step out of the shadows at his cue.

"But Har- Neville killed him!" Sirius protested. "He can't be! There's no way that he can be!"

The chatter started up again, sweeping through the Auror department: Tonks, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye Moody, with a fury.
Severus sighed as Albus sent him a pleading look. He decided it was time to step from the comfort of the corner.

"It is true." Severus attested quietly, though his words were heard everywhere. "He is back. Vvvoldemort is back." He
rushed over the name, finding it disgusting as it rolled over his tongue. He had determined that if the Longbottom spawn
could say it, then so could he- damn Dumbledore and his logic!

"But how can you be sure?" Mad-Eye asked shrewdly, clearly provoking the man. Snape's lip curled into a sneer and he
shoved up his left sleeve to reveal the blackened Dark Mark.

"B-but Har- Neville!" Sirius protested weakly. He did not just get busted out of Azkaban to deal with an evil Dark Lord!

"Regrettably did not succeed in killing him." Snape finished dryly.

Augusta huffed and glared at Dumbledore. "So you're telling me that Neville was fated to kill that monster, and you were
going to insist he do so ALONE?"

"The prophecy-" Albus muttered.

"I don't give a damn about the prophecy! Who really rid of the Dark Lord?" Augusta cried.

"Potter!" Minerva burst out. "Harry Potter banished the Dark Lord! Potter! And the boy-!"

"That is enough!" Albus snapped, cutting his deputy off with a glare. Minerva breathed heavily, the truth bursting within
her. How could Dumbledore even hope to continue this?

"But the prophecy could refer to either one of them, isn't that right?" Lupin cut in mildly, having the air of innocence about
him.

Augusta whipped around to scrutinize the werewolf before nodding curtly. "I see."

"See what? See what?" Molly asked, her forehead wrinkling.

"Both Neville and Harry could have been the prophecy's object." Arthur clarified lightly, "But Harry was the one to banish
the Dark Lord, and Neville is expected to kill him. So together..."

"Oh! I understand." Molly said, the color coming back into her cheeks.

"But how do we know he's really back?" Tonks asked tentatively, "He didn't call you, did he?" she asked Snape.

Severus shook his head. "No. But the Dark Lord, despite his many followers, is more than capable of acting on his own.
A schoolboy cannot hope to come close to defeating him."

"How do we know that the prophecy's not referring to Potter?" Arthur asked again. "He already vanquished the Dark Lord
once, perhaps he has powers? We need to be sure."

Albus sighed. They kept looping about in circles, and yet, he had to let them speak. Otherwise, it was almost guaranteed
that they wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

"I wouldn't object to giving Neville more help." Augusta chimed in.

"Indeed not." Minerva said in approbation. "We need all the help we can get."

Severus began to slink back into the corner, unwilling to keep him and his arm on display for any longer than necessary.
"So where is he?" Moody demanded. "Can't you summon him back?"

Minerva seemed to glow in complacence and Severus rolled his eyes. Could the witch never let anything go? To their
surprise, the headmaster actually stepped in.

"Which is one of the very few things I had wished to talk to you about. Harry Potter is gone."

...

"GONE?" Augusta screeched. "You mean that you lost him and replaced him with my son?"

"No! Not at all!" Albus said pleasantly, a bead of sweat on his ancient visage. "As stated, the prophecy could refer to
Neville as well! But, er, yes we have lost Harry Potter."

Kingsley gaped horrified. "Does the Ministry-?"

"Yes- How else do you think it's been kept quiet for so long?" Severus asked icily. Kingsley glared back.

"They should have told the Auror department at least." Shacklebolt muttered.

Albus looked troubled. "I admit I have made a great many of mistakes, but right now, more than anything, we need to
present a united front against Voldemort. He is back and I am not about to risk any child's life for the Greater Good." he
promised resolutely.

.oOo.

March first brought about Ron's birthday, except for the fact that hardly anyone cared. Hermione, of course, had gotten
him a book on Potions ingredients, hoping to spare him more of Snape's tirade, which only ended up making him more
depressed. Lavender had brought him some sweets (made courtesy of the house-elves,) but that was only because she
was his girlfriend.

Hasan found himself in his private dorm a lot, sitting down and just thinking. Draco was always holed in his room, doing
goodness knows what, and Neville was always accompanied by the youngest Weasley. But it was good, Hasan
supposed, because he needed the time to think. He was not feeling alone. He was NOT! What the hell was happening
to him? The vision at the Hospital Wing, what was that? He had been a snake and he had killed someone. And why had
it felt so good? And so uncontrollable? It was infuriating to be able to recall the incident with clarity, and yet have no idea
how and why it came to be.

But obviously it had something to do with Voldemort. How could it not? It took place in the Riddle House, and Hasan was
ready to wager that somehow, Tom Marvolo Riddle was involved with the deaths of his relatives. How he knew this was
also a mystery- perhaps the snake's thoughts, Nagini, was it? Had become his own? Or perhaps he had known this all
along and the vision had triggered it? But the point was, Tom Marvolo Riddle was Lord Voldemort, the diary was Lord
Voldemort's (which was missing by the way), quite possibly the diadem in his trunk, and now the snake that had killed-
that Hasan had been inside while it killed- also belonged to Lord Voldemort.

How? How could this be? Quirrellmort had fled the chamber of the stone as a wraith and had sometime after this,
summoned rat Peter Pettigrew to his side. Which would indicate a need for assistance, quite understandable for being
less than alive. But if Peter had not reached the Dark Lord, then who had helped him? Hasan would also guess that the
evil wizard did not like being helpless...so it was only common sense to assume Nagini was his aid. And what was this
about the sixth? If Nagini was his sixth, then who or what were the other five? Or rather three, since the diary and tiara
were already accounted for. And what were they anyway?

It was too dangerous to research in Hogwarts- what if someone found out? What if he were investigated and Altair was
found?- and it wasn't something he felt comfortable sharing with Neville or Luna, or even Altair. If he truly was Harry
Potter, then there was bound to be some sort of connection beyond the physical scar. What if the vision was true and he
had been inside Voldemort's mind? And how could it be, if he had clearly seen through the eyes of the snake?

Hasan gasped- possession. As strikingly obvious as it seemed now it was rather a tricky situation. Hasan inside
Voldemort's mind, while he possessed some magical murdering snake. It was all rather unorthodox, and to be honest,
Hasan was freaking out.

Who in Merlin's name could he tell? No one. That's right- because he was truly Harry-Bloody-Potter. And there was no
way in hell he was going to be turned into the golden boy like Neville had. He could just imagine the lengths Dumbledore
would take to keep him under his control! And once news of Altair got out, he would be done for! The old man would
probably use Altair as a bargaining chip: his freedom or his protection for your cooperation.
Needless to say, Hasan was not going to volunteer.

Hasan sighed as he glanced at his calendar. Just a few more days and it would be the sixth. Just a few more days and
he could see Luna, Neville, and Draco again, and perhaps pretend that nothing ever happened.

.oOo.

April sixth came soon enough, and Luna was absolutely glowing. She had been practicing for about a year now to get to
know herself and envision herself as an animal. At first, she had supposed that a rabbit was good- white, fluffy, cute,
small, and very agile. But then she thought about who she really was inside: a psychic trapped inside the body of a girl. A
divine power viewed as a friendless lunatic. It didn't bother her most of the time, for she appreciated the privacy of being
overlooked, but lately, she often found herself wishing for more regard.

Just because her peers didn't understand her, didn't mean that she was less than them. Sometimes she would
contribute to a debate on Salamander blood or other, and the other Ravenclaws would simply brush her off and continue
on with the debate. It was frustrating! What if, one day, she had a premonition that could save the world- what then?
Would they shove her off as well?

It wasn't a hunger exactly, not like Ron who was constantly vying for attention, but it was certainly prominent. Wasn't that a
human right? A given? People want recognition. Raw recognition. Not the flashy cameras and lights, like Neville. Not the
whispers, tabloids, and reverence, but the simple "I am going to treat you like a human being," type of respect. And the
more Luna was neglected, the more this desire burgeoned within her. It was one of the many reasons she sympathized
with Hasan. She didn't know anything exactly, not really, but she knew enough to figure out that he was a force to be
reckoned with. He was a parselmouth, a Slytherin, and in possession of the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. What more?
What more did she sense but could not make sense of?

A bunny? Hardly. She was not merely curious, but inquisitive, not merely a lovely person, but a gifted soul wrapped in a
girl's body. Bunny? Luna giggled. No. Something able, something smart, and something respected. In other words, her.

She passed by the blank wall for the third time, opening the door to the secret room just as the embellishments were
beginning to form. The inside was large, a very spacey, but warm type of sitting area with a giant rectangular rug and a
table. Chandeliers hung about the ceiling in no particular pattern, and the walls were painted a soft yellow. She waited a
bit and Neville and Hasan came in presently, followed by a very tired looking Draco Malfoy.

"Hello." said Hasan with a slight wave. He had a small brown bag that he quickly revealed to be holding the last two
vials. They were still fresh until the end of next year, so he had no qualms about feeding them to his friends.

"Hi, Hasan!" Luna beamed. "I'm so excited! What do you think you'll be, Neville?"

Neville shrugged, though he had an air of confidence around him that was not admittedly there before. Hasan inwardly
frowned- it must have been Ginny to boost his ego- had the headmaster panned for this too?

"I'd rather not be wrong." Neville answered finally.

"Are you that scared of being wrong?" Hasan queried bluntly.

Neville turned to him and snorted. "Hardly. But I haven't an opinion either way. I just hope I'm powerful."

"Then perhaps you'll be a lion." Hasan quipped with a sneer so uncharacteristic of the apathetic boy.

Neville paled considerably, knowing that some line had been crossed. But what?

"I'm sorry." he said, but it came out challenging, not how he intended it at all. And yet, as it left his mouth, he thought 'try
me.'

Draco glanced uneasily between them. "Gifts can't be taken back." he reminded Hasan lightly.

"Unless they were never given!" Luna chimed in happily.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Neville said again, sounding sincere this time. "Sometimes I just can't help myself." he blushed
abashedly as Hasan looked on coolly. Had the golden boy finally learned to act? Or was he breaking Dumbledore's
conditioning?

"You've done the work." Hasan said. "I can hardly decide whether you get the treat at the end, can I?" He tossed the vial to
Neville and the other to Luna. "Drink up."

Neville sighed. This was not how he imagined things to go at all! Why was he even acting like this? Like he was so
much better? He glanced at the vial and felt sick to his stomach. This was still Hasan, not a slimy Slytherin, but his friend
from last year. The friend who truly had defeated Voldemort in the chamber with the stone.

"Hasan- I- I'm sorry, alright. I'm not sure why I'm...I can't do this." His shoulders sagged as he shook his head.

"I assure you there's nothing wrong with it. Professor Snape brewed it himself." Hasan said, watching as Neville's face
went predictably white.

"You mean-?" Neville gaped. He didn't know what to think. Hadn't he, on some level, figured this out? Who else would
brew something this complex? But then, he didn't feel right taking it if Professor Snape brewed it, but if it truly was a
harmful substance? He just felt so terrible about his actions downed the potion in a single gulp, and Hasan stepped
back satisfactorily. Nothing like a bit of redemption to get a person moving!

Neville felt the potion's effects immediately. Icy cold was seeping through his muscles and his skin, and he shivered
involuntarily. Was this supposed to happen? He paled as his thoughts revved and his eyes searched out Hasan's
through the peculiar white mist that surrounded him. Hasan simply stared back, noting to himself the color of the aura
with mild curiosity. Suddenly, his shoulders rolled back, so impossibly far back as his entire body melted down. Neville
hissed in agony as his bones began to shift and relock in place. Some birthday present...he thought as his hands
fanned out. His face was becoming narrower, sharper, flatter, and his nose jutted out as if on a stilt. Just as suddenly, it
all ended, and Neville took his hesitant first step.

"Aw! Neville's a bird!" Luna cried cheerfully. "Can you fly?"

Neville blinked once and looked from side to side. Wings. Brown, feathered wings. This was incredible! He thrust out his
wings as far as they could go and attempted to flap them rather clumsily. Hasan hid a smirk behind his hand, but Draco
was not so polite.

"Oh Merlin! Neville, you've got to learn how to fly!" Draco laughed loudly, imagining how it would look if Neville were
making a getaway and couldn't get off the ground!

Neville squawked and transformed back with a glare.

"It's not funny." He pouted, but he was smiling all the same.

"You're a hawk to be more specific." Hasan informed them thoughtfully. "I'm sure flying won't be so difficult."

"Have you forgotten last year?" Neville laughed freely. "I nearly killed myself!"

"Perhaps it's a sign then." Hasan said cryptically. "Learn to fly."

Luna was nodding with vigor. "You can try out for quidditch next year!"

Draco rolled his eyes- as if anyone could hope to beat Slytherin! Not with Draco on the team, he thought smugly.

"Luna?" Hasan called. "Are you ready?"

The blonde haired girl smiled confidently. "Of course, silly. I've always been ready."

She uncorked the vial and drank the chilling liquid quickly, waiting in anticipation for the sensations to begin. Unlike
Neville, she was hyper aware of the glowing aura and realized immediately when it went up. Hers was a soft golden light
that dashed across the floor. How interesting! she thought before gasping in surprise.

Hasan watched Luna's transformation with the most interest, for of all of them, she was one he knew least about.
Apparently she was a halfblood, but she also possessed such an unusually magical gift that is was unfair to place her
anywhere. The golden pulsing receded back within her lithe form and then her ribs began to grow. Lengthening and
lengthening until her entire body was entirely not her own. And yet, it was her own in every way.

"Wow." Neville said dumbly, awestruck as he gazed upon his friend.

"I'll say." Draco murmured appreciatively, for before them, stood the most lovely looking creature Hasan had ever seen.

"Arabian horse." Hasan said.

Luna seemed to dance in delight, shaking the floor as her new sharp hooves clacked against the solid floor. Yes, this felt
right. Luna shook her mane and twisted around her long neck to glimpse herself. She had a velvety brown complexion
with light caramel hair. But Hasan was struck by the eyes that were vats of molten silver. "Beautiful." Hasan breathed.

Luna shut her large silver eyes and transformed in an instant, stumbling before saying.

"A bit unpleasant, but I think it was worth it."

Draco laughed again and Neville smiled knowingly.

"I'm glad." Hasan said sweetly. "Though I wouldn't suggest bestowing your gratitude upon Snape. Besides that, let's all
keep this a secret, shall we? Technically, it's illegal."

Suddenly, Draco and Neville were gaping.

"Why?" Luna asked innocently, her brow drawing up in confusion. "You didn't know?"

Draco shook his head. Oh, his dad was going to kill him if he found out! First begging for the dagger, and now, involving
himself in illegal activities! On second thought, perhaps Lucius would be proud? Draco frowned; he sure wasn't going to
risk the chance of being wrong.

Neville was in a similar state of shock. "M-my Gran would want me to be registered..."

"And pray, how would you explain the situation?" Hasan asked.

"He's the Boy-Who-Lived." Draco said with a shrug. "Even father concedes that the title has weight."

A title. Right...just a title... Neville shook his head. He was finally beginning to realize the effect of Ginny's constant
presence and ego feeding, and he didn't like it at all. How could someone so nice be manipulating his train of thought?

"I've got to go to bed." Neville said suddenly. He needed time to think. To think long and hard about his place.

The three watched him go out the door, but Hasan noted with little concern that his shoulders were sagged, and head
drooping.

"Thank you again, Hasan." Luna smiled. "Now I can hang out with the thestrals! Do you think I speak horse-ish?"

"I wouldn't know." Hasan asked softly, but with a light smile playing at his lips. For some reason, Luna was always able
to bring the best out of him.

"I'll look into it! See you, Hasan, Draco!" She nodded to each and made a quick exit, leaving Hasan to wonder why. The
question as soon answered however, for as soon as the door fell shut, Draco began to speak. And not in the nervous
laughter tone of voice he had been using all meeting, but his normal one. His serious, Slytherin one. Hasan felt the shift
immediately and turned his weary jade eyes to the Malfoy heir.

"Hasan, do you...really trust me?" Draco asked out of the blue. Hasan blinked twice. Trust? Trust him? Suddenly the boy
needed him to be making declarations of faith?

"Why? Why are you asking?" Hasan returned, a bit annoyed. If anyone should be questioning loyalties, it was him!

"Well, why not? You never do talk about your parents." Draco accused with a pout. "And I practically let you into mine."

"Oh, I see." Hasan said in a bored tone. "You got curious didn't you?"

"I am curious." Draco corrected, and Hasan let it slide. There was no point bringing up the book or the diary now. He
either had it or he didn't. Plus, Hasan wanted to see where this was going. "Hasan, can you at least tell me one thing? If
you knew something, if you had a secret...you'd tell me right? You trust me more than say, Granger, right?" He was nearly
pleading, and Hasan's face softened fractionally.

"But Draco," Hasan said tonelessly. "That would defeat the purpose of the secret."

"But you would, right?" asked Draco again.

Hasan frowned. "I'm positive I don't know what you mean."

"Oh." Draco's heart sunk. "I see." His face seemed to darken, and his head drooped so that he could stare at the
clenched fists in his lap. "Yes, I see." With that, Draco strode to the door and yanked it open.

"Bye." Hasan called out apathetically, not really caring if the boy heard or not.

He did. There was no reply.

A/N: Draco feels alone! Hasan feels betrayed! What will happen? What will Draco do? And how about those Animagus
forms? Were you expecting them? Luna's form is very significant so keep an eye out for her! And is Lupin finally catching
on? Who will discover Hasan is Harry Potter first? Severus or Remus?

Someone reviewed anonymously last chapter and I wanted to address that:

"this chapter b rought up something I don't think is accurate, or even possib le...How in all the Hells would Hasan, or Harry,
have a memory of Altair and Lucius looking over the diary, when that would most likely have happened b efore he was
b orn, let alone at a time where he could have seen it? Dementors only make you relive your OWN worst memories while
draining you of your happy ones. Even for Harry/Hasan, that makes no sense at all."

Well, let's just say that I LOVE you to death. Did anybody else catch this, because I was hoping you would. You see, this
is a very deliberate decision on my part that is very essential to the main plot of this story. If anyone wants to make a
guess, please leave it in a review!

Anyway, here's a VOTE to keep things interesting in Year 4 (which I'm planning right now)! LadyTeldra gave the 300th
review and decided that the Veil will lead to somewhere. The question is, where?

A) Limbo: The character will remain a character in the story but technically he/she's not in the world of the living.

B) Another room in the Ministry: it'll spit him/her out like a portal

C) Time machine: He/She will make an appearance later in the story

D) Give me your best idea!

Because of the complications this challenge will bring, I will take the general consensus into account but I may not go
with the majority.

Next Up: Chapter 18: The Million Eyes (Patronuses, anyone?)

*Chapter 18*: The Million Eyes
A/N: SALAZAR! You guys are the best readers! Thank you so so much for the lovely reviews! I love you all! Let's aim for
400! (Haha, I'm getting ahead of myself.) This chapter has a patronus!- as well as several other things. I also would like
to point out that I leave extra author notes by month on my profile, as well as a convenient update schedule. Come
check it out once in a while!

Special thanks to my beta, greyhound! You're the best!

Please enjoy!

"And look upon you with ten thousand eyes

Till heaven waxed b lind, and till the world were done."

- Ab iding Love b y Joshua Sylvester

Return of Emerald

Chapter 18: The Million Eyes

"Dear Lucius,

I thank you for your speedy delivery and consideration for venturing into such a dreadful place. As thank you, here are
the answers to your three questions: 1) The ring has a separate significance for separate intents. For instance, it
b elonged to Marvolo Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. For him, it was an heirloom, a priceless testament to his
heritage. To me, it is simply a tool. And to you, it is b ut a task on the rung. 2) Have I destroyed your memories? I thought I
had covered my tracks well enough- apparently not. Your memories are still in existence, b ut not in my possession.
They're safe enough. 3) A chance at getting them b ack? Perhaps, perhaps not. It all depends on how well and if you
ob ey. By the b y, have you ever heard of Slytherin's locket? It once b elonged to the Gaunt's b ut a certain tragedy
overthrew them. Perhaps some prying is in Order?

Happy Valentine's Day,

Altair" –from Chapter 16: Ring of Power

.oOo.

Well damn. Lucius was completely and utterly screwed...and yet, there was that condemning glimmer of hope at the end
of the road. He was not as concerned about the ring as he was about his memories. Honestly! His seven years of life
were still in existence, but not availab le to him! Though the solution was pretty clear: research Slytherin's locket, jump
through a few more hoops, and he might possibly get his thoughts back!

Which was nice and all, except for the fact that the Gaunt House was not his ideal visiting location. It was downright eerie
and his suspicions stirred up as to why this mysterious Altair would need them. If the diary belonged to Tom Riddle and
the ring belonged to Tom Riddle, then how on earth were the Gaunt's involved, especially as the objects simply gushed
with dark magic and the former was in the previous possession of the Dark Lord?

But the fact remained: he had to comply. He had, obviously, tried tracking the letter, tracking the owl, bloody pulling strings
at the Ministry to search for an Altair Castell who was quite clearly marked as dead! The unknown was driving him
insane, and if there was one thing Lucius hated, it was being at the mercy of somebody. Anybody. Or rather, just Altair
Castell- and what was with his bloody son anyway? Yet, he had to admit that Altair knew how to play the game. He knew
which buttons to push to get Lucius fetching like a lapdog. Namely, his family and memories of said family. And for this,
Lucius had an inexplicable respect for the man, a curiosity, fascination almost...

"Dobby!" he snapped as the little elf appeared before him.

"Yes? What is Master Lucius be wanting, sir?" Dobby squeaked, looking up at him with impossibly wide eyes. He wore a
clean white pillowcase with hemmed armholes and had an almost weary expression on his face, as if he had been
caught in wrongdoing. Luckily for him, Lucius couldn't really be concerned about his elf's new attire, and immediately
demanded for books to be brought from the Malfoy family library. There were innumerable dusty family archives in the
Malfoy Library, and if Lucius was going to do his research, then there was no better place to start than right at home.

The Gaunts? The flicked his wand at the heavy leather bound tome, searching for passages relating to the name. Surely
it couldn't have been that important because he would have heard of it before! Lucius Malfoy prided himself on knowing
everyone within the Ministry, and if there was even a page by the name of Gaunt, Lucius would know. The pages swept
back, rapidly as if someone were running across, and Lucius' jaw dropped.

Bloody fucking hell! He was face to face with a family tree of Salazar Slytherin! Which he really shouldn't have been
surprised at, seeing as Altair had already told him, but it was a completely other thing to see it now, it writing. All the way
at the bottom of the 10th page after Slytherin's heading, was the little magical addition of a small branch of Gaunt's. It
was confirmed then- Altair really hadn't been lying. He had set foot in a House of Slytherin. And yet, it was the shabbiest,
most pathetic shamble the Malfoy lord had ever seen! Glancing above the page for notes, he was also astounded to see
how the family tree dwindled from 20 heirs at any given generation to the pitiful Gaunt shoot.

Pureb lood inb reeding.

He shook the thoughts away, wondering why on earth he had thought of that, before concentrating on the dying branch of
Slytherin. Marvolo Gaunt had been married to a Megaera Peverell, though her own family tree was only referenced with
an asterisk. The name Peverell was only familiar to him through the Tales of Beedle the Bard, which of course, was a
silly child's story. Even so, to see the name in relation to Slytherin gave him a jolt of foreboding. He quickly moved one,
passing to the children Morfin and Merope. He recalled several bedrooms at the house, and so was not overly surprised
that a small family lived there once upon a time. Morfin's line ended, but Merope had the most peculiar tie and drop down
line to a single name. Because it was a Malfoy book, all muggles were promptly erased unless the incantation was
given. Obviously curious, he tapped the book and whispered, "Nomen Revelio!"

Instantly, the name Tom Riddle Sr. appeared beside Merope's name, and Lucius nearly had a heart attack. Tom Riddle.
The diary! Things were making sense now, but only just a little. He understood the connections, but not the why. And
finally, the very last name was Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. It was in bold. A little note marked him as the heir of Salazar
Slytherin.

What the hell? The man was alive? If he was alive, then where was he? Why wasn't he pushing for legislation? Why
wasn't he making a fortune writing books? Or running for Minister of Magic? Why wasn't he doing all these useless
things that would make him rich, simply for the fact that he was the last living heir of Salazar Slytherin? And why did
Lucius not know him?

Lucius sighed and stowed the book in his desk. Distantly, he heard Narcissa break through the wards.

.oOo.

Hasan sifted through the library shelves, anxious for any information. Draco had been eerily estranging himself from
Hasan and the rest of the group, instead keeping to his room, and occasionally playing a game of exploding snap with
Theodore Nott. When Draco spotted Hasan, anywhere, whether it was at the table, in the common, or during class, the
blonde would immediately quiet and attempt to look the other way. All these things Hasan saw and knew with clarity, and
Hasan couldn't bring himself to feel a single thing. Just thoughts. Many, many, interlocking, contradicting, webs and
weaves of thoughts.

Was Draco mad at him?

Was Draco having a bad day?

Was Draco mad at something he had said?

Had Hasan done anything?

Did something else cause it to happen?

What was really happening?

Was it Draco's problem?

Did Draco expect help?

Was it Hasan's problem?

Was Draco expecting Hasan to ask for help?

And what the hell was this about trust?

The last time they had met, as in, actually welcomed each other's company was nearly a month ago in the Room of
Requirement. Trust? What type of unspecific sudden unfair question was that? What defined trust anyway? And did
Draco's definition actually match the accuracy of Hasan's or the dictionary's? The thing was, Hasan wasn't sure what to
make of Draco's strange behavior, except that...Well the obvious. Draco didn't trust Hasan.

Were all people like this? Hasan wondered. Did all people demand mutual emotions or else those feelings were
considered null? What type of idiotic system was that? But the point was, Hasan did know of something. Obliviation.

Luna had said that Lupin had obliviated the entire Dueling Club, and the Gryffindors and Slytherins in his DADA class.
Why? Well, because Lupin obviously thought he was odd, or that Lupin wanted this under wraps, or that Lupin thought
that Hasan thought he wanted it under wraps. Hasan ran his fingers through the S section of the shelf, scanning,
searching...but Lupin wasn't the problem here. Neither was Draco really. It was him. All him.

It wasn't that outlandish to guess that Draco suspected he had been obliviated. It wasn't outlandish to guess that Draco
knew something had happened in there to involve Hasan Castell. Hasan wasn't that open to begin with, and adding the
overhanging possibility of multiple obliviations did nothing to help him. Well, that was a real shame, because if Draco
was going to sulk and hide in the corner, then so be it. Hasan was not sad. He was NOT!

But he was curious...where had that voice even come from? The hissing? Was there another in this school? Another in
the world? Or another snake?

"Hey, Hasan!"

"Wh-!"

He whipped around to be met with Luna's smiling face. Her silvery eyes blinked at him innocently as she held out a thin
red book.

"Oh, hello, Luna." Hasan said with a slight sheepish smile.

"You're researching the Castle Beasts, right?" Luna asked cheerfully.

"Your Inspiration?" Hasas hypothesized blankly.

"Mmhmm!" She nodded happily and gave him the thin book. "It's by Trevenia Trew. I got it from the Restricted Section!"

Hasan accepted the book graciously but then frowned. "You got a pass?" If there was a spell on these books...if he was
traced...if Luna was involved...if they knew why, if they knew, if anyone knew...

"Of course not, silly." Luna giggled. "I found it lying in the wrong section. It was checked out by someone else, I think, and
they forgot to put it back."

"Aren't the books returned magically, Luna?" Hasan asked suspiciously.

"Oh! So they are!" she grinned. "Perhaps the reader was recent?" Luna brushed her blonde hair from her face and
sighed. "Sometimes I think the Universe is timed and actions speak louder than words. Well, I'd check page 35 if I were
you. Of course, I'm not exactly sure what you'll find, but I'm sure it will be good! I wonder where the books on Horse-ish
are..."

Luna beamed up at him before turning away down the aisle, and disappearing behind the Magical Bestiary section. Idiot!
Why didn't he think of that? He looked down at the book Luna had just given him for the first time. It was clearly old, but
exceptionally thin, so thin, that Hasan wondered if the author didn't want anyone to chance across it. If that were so, then
Hasan was pretty sure that this was the book for him.

"Beasts of the Castle by Trevenia Trew." He pulled open the cover and looked for the take out date. The last one was
more than fifty years ago without a name. Well, that was odd. Who could have taken the book out then? Recent enough to
have had it out, late enough for Luna to find, but short enough so that no one would even know. Whoever it was certainly
knew how to bury their tracks, and the reason for that was...he regarded the book with apprehension, wondering what
mysterious things he would find, and flipped to page 35, the number climbing along the bottom.

Basilisk.

"Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous
stare, and all who are fixed with the b eam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee b efore the Basilisk, for it is their
mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it." (CS16)

Hasan stared at the page for a long time. How was this even possible? A Basilisk? IN THE SCHOOL? Had Dumbledore
gone barmy? What type of person let a snake live in the school! Assuming that there was truth to Luna's power.
Assuming that he had heard a snake intent upon killing...Still, Luna's powers hadn't failed them yet, and really, what
harm was there in being cautious? His thoughts roamed freely over the snake of Lord Voldemort's, but he quickly
dismissed the idea of Nagini being the Basilisk of the school. After all, Nagini was at the Riddle House...

Hasan sighed. Snakes were supposed to be fun, nice! He loved Tina and the garden snakes outside the orphanage. But
now, just the thought of the creatures made his mouth taste of blood. The cries! The sickening crack of bone beneath
jaw...

"Hasan! Hasan!" Someone was tapping him on the arm, and Hasan glanced up, surprised.

"Hello Daphne." he uttered, putting away his book in one smooth motion.

She was out of breath, and her brown hair frizzing from the run. Whatever she had come here to say, it didn't seem to be
anything that could wait.

"Have-have you seen Draco?" she panted. Hasan frowned.

"No. Why?"

"Because he's not anywhere!"

Hasan sighed. "And this concerns me because he is my friend."

"Well, yeah." Daphne said, giving him an odd look. "So have you seen him?"

Hasan shook his head.

"Oh, come on, Hasan! I know you had a fight but..." Her eyes were wide, innocent. "He's still your friend, isn't he? He gave
you the dagger!"

Hasan shrugged. Did he have friends? "I- I am unsure. I haven't seen him in a few days, but I don't think we fought."

"Oh? Really?" Daphne glared. "Honestly, Hasan. Sometimes I wonder what Draco even sees in you. He shouldn't have
wasted his dagger on someone who doesn't even know the power-"

"Daphne. Be quiet." Hasan commanded in a low whisper. "Don't you dare suggest I don't care about those I trust. I don't
know why he gave me such a valuable artifact, but the truth is, he did. Now I don't understand emotions a whole lot, but
don't take me for a fool. Draco's been missing, you say? Well, let him solve his own problems. It's something called
growing. Have you even tried to owl him? I believe owls are more than capable of tracking a person."

Daphne had always struck him as a sweet, quiet, but very impressionable girl who had spent an unfortunate amount of
time near Pansy Parkinson. Hasan, admittedly, was not someone you would go to for emotional support, but
accusations. False accusations. Claims that cut across Hasan's very morals? Those were forbidden.

Daphne shrank back, wondering why Hasan was acting so forceful. He never showed emotion before...

"I-I'm sorr-"

"Actions speak louder than words." Hasan said, the proverb flowing out of him. "Perhaps you can go up to the owlery,
yes?"

He wasn't sure where the rage had come from. The sudden, coolness of authority. And yet, he knew all at once. They
came from Harry, and Harry came from him. And Voldemort? The snake had struck, soft flesh melting along the sides of
his teeth...

Daphne nodded vigorously and sprinted out of the library. Even if Hasan had told her to jump off a cliff, she was sure
she'd do anything at the moment. Hasan was left standing alone in the aisle, surrounded by dusty tomes of informative
text. Perhaps he'd check the Marauder's Map one last time?

.oOo.
Severus Snape had many pressing matters on his mind. After the first few meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, it was
clear that the others still viewed him as a Death Eater. The Weasley's would glance his way whenever they thought his
head was turned, and Mad-Eyed Moody kept glaring at him with that swiveling eye of his. Augusta was a busy woman
and so could only come every other month, but Mundungus Fletcher joined the party, and he was eyeing up the house
more than he cared about the meeting. Finally, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks brought up the rear of the
Auror department, and it was almost expected that they regard him with caution as well.

But the mutt-er- Black and Lupin were alright. Black did his best to avoid the slimy bat, but Lupin would always set a
gentle smile on his face when looking at Severus. It was the weirdest feeling: He was actually fond of the wolf.
Dumbledore was happy, of course, that Snape had found a friend and Minerva was downright gleeful. Honestly, how did
the woman find such joy in his life? In his boring, mundane, boring, boring life? Right. Because it was hardly boring
anymore.

After much debate, he had contacted Lucius about his memories, if only to assure that Altair hadn't messed with
anything during his absence, and his friend wasn't prying into matters that should really not be pried into! He received a
short note within a week, reassuring Severus that all was well and he hardly even thought about it anymore. After all,
what were seven years' worth of memories? Snape didn't buy it for a minute. But he had other pressing matters on his
mind than just Lucius.

Today, Hasan was scheduled to come down for their second 'Quid Pro Quid' session, in which Hasan would hopefully
create a patronus, and Snape would hopefully learn about the blasted boy. It started in December when Severus had first
noticed Albus' sudden interest in the boy. It had scared Severus to death when Albus asked him one day if he found the
boy particularly interesting. Severus had replied that he didn't care much to look into any one student, but that he found all
his snakes rather interesting. Diplomatic. Slytherin. But it had alerted Severus of another variable, a much more active
variable. The conversation dropped and was never taken up again.

Severus glanced at the clock: 6:56. Only 4 more minutes to go...He needed answers. This was no longer a wish, a
bartering weight on his end of the agreement, no, he needed to know...something, anything. Why was Harry Potter his
Boggart? Why did he have that Protean ring? Why had he gone outside with the dementors? Why was he able to talk to
snakes?

And the final matter on his mind? His own godson, Draco Malfoy. He seemed withdrawn lately, entering class with little
interest, and picking a seat next to Theodore Nott or Blaise Zabini. This left Hasan with Hermione Granger, the know-it-all
chit, which wasn't much of a surprise. What was surprising was that they had never sat apart. Never. Not since first year!
What had happened? A simple fight? A simple disagreement? Or had Draco discovered something about Hasan that
Snape himself did not know?

Everything looped back around to Hasan Castell. He was tired of guessing.

"Professor Snape?" Hasan knocked thrice and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Professor- Oh!"

Snape had flicked the door of his office open lazily, revealing a rather tired looking Hasan Castell with hair reaching as
long as his waist. Did the boy never get a haircut?

"Come in." Severus said curtly, waiting for the boy to extract himself from the doorway and follow the Potions Master into
his private chambers.

Hasan walked behind nonchalantly, sitting when indicated, on a leather chair.

"I believe I have offered to instruct you in casting a Patronus in exchange for answers to my questions?"

Hasan nodded, dull jade eyes blinking innocently. "Yes. I agree to those terms. But how do I know you'll teach me? How
do I know you won't receive your answers and leave me to struggle with my non-corporeal wisp?"

Snape fought not to roll his eyes.

"You'll know because I do not lie."

"Lying and finding a loophole are two different things, Professor."

Really? Did the boy not trust him? Well, Severus, he told himself, I wouldn't trust you either. Snape sighed and nodded.

"You have my word I will teach you before the day is out."

"Good." Hasan nodded, running his fingers over his thick brown braid. "You can begin."
Oh, can't I? Snape thought. "Why did you go outside on Valentine's Day? And I expect a complete answer, Mr. Castell."

Hasan shrugged. "I needed it."

"You...needed it." Snape repeated dumbly. "Let me repeat, you needed it?" His voice rose in incredulity. Hasan nodded.

"Yes, I needed it."

"And pray tell, why?"

Hasan stared at the table leg, not able to look his professor in the eye. "Because I was curious."

"One would think a simple curiosity would not leave you unconscious in the Hospital Wing." Snape told him glumly. "But I
fail to see the connection. Surely Black had told you of his countless adventures in Azkaban? Do not go near the
dementors!"

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Snape asked.

"Mr. Black has suffered a lot in there." Hasan brought his jade green orbs to meet his professor's. "I don't think one would
use the word 'adventure.'" Snape's jaw cracked. Hasan got a move on, "But as for the why. Well, I can...I can hear
things...when the dementors get near."

"Such as?" Snape pressed.

"I'm not sure." Hasan answered honestly enough. "Now, I believe that was a thorough enough question, don't you? Now
how on earth am I supposed to cast a Patronus?"

Snape sighed. At the rate they were going..."Did you think of that happy memory I told you to think of?"

Hasan nodded. It was when his appearance had changed for the first time. The elation of knowing he was able to just
disappear...

"Good, now try it."

Hasan took out his wand and slashed it through the air. "Expecto Patronum!" The silvery wisp shot from his wand, but
nothing more. No shape, no form. Snape was inwardly cheering. The longer it took, the more questions he could ask!

"Not happy enough." Snape quipped.

"What?" Hasan exclaimed. "But-! I-! That was happy!"

"Apparently not. What was it?" Snape demanded.

"I-I'm not telling!" Hasan countered. "Unless..." he peeked up hopefully through his lashes, "that was your question?"

"You idiot boy! No!"

"Oh...so what is your question?"

Snape wanted to throw something right now! Preferably large and aiming at the boy's head.

"Why is your boggart Harry Potter?" Snape snarled.

Hasan would have taken in a sharp intake of breath if he were any other person; however, he was a Slytherin, and an
unusual one at that. No way was he doing anything so indicative and melodramatic as alerting the other of his
predicament.

"That's what I fear." Hasan answered simply.

Snape's lips thinned as he considered the answer. "Why do you fear him? You don't even know him." Severus knew he
was treading a thin line, but at this point, he really didn't care.

"I fear him because I don't like what he stands for." Hasan replied tightly. He didn't feel a need to justify himself, but he
was thankful to explain his mentality to someone! "Have you seen what Neville acts like now? Do you remember what he
used to act like?"
What? They were talking of Harry Potter, not of Neville Longbottom! But now that he mentioned it,...Severus had noticed a
rather prominent change in the Longbottom boy even from the summer. It was obvious now that it was not only
Dumbledore's influence, but most likely the youngest Weasley girl who was constantly on his arm- coincidentally from
the family of Dumbledore's greatest supporters.

"He blows up his cauldron less often than he used to." Snape admittedly begrudgingly.

Hasan nodded. "He's arrogant. He's smug." It sounded like James Potter... "Before he was always stuttering over words,
now, he's confident, overly so. This is the Golden Boy mold. This is the beacon of light. If he believes he knows right, then
others will follow him too. It's simple. And yet, I hate it."

It was more of a response than Snape could even dream to ask for. "And you still maintain ties with Mr. Longbottom?"
Snape enquired lightly.

Hasan nodded. "Of course. He's the Boy-Who-Lived, isn't he?" Of course, so is everyone else...Snape remembered the
boy saying. "But it's not Neville I dislike, it's the image. Harry Potter was the first, the original, to fit that perfect golden boy
mold, and it makes me sick."

Snape understood now. A little. He understood how Longbottom had changed and why, and how utterly disgusting it was
to make him change himself for the greater good. The idea of Harry Potter, the symbolism of stereotypical Light, was
what Hasan feared, not Harry himself...even Snape related to this.

"I see." Snape said finally, regarding Hasan with a mixture of appreciation and understanding. He nodded twice before
saying, "The problem with your last patronus was the memory. Once more, I am going to ask you to think of something
different. Something so happy that you can't help but smile."

Hasan closed his eyes and thought...Draco, Luna, Tina, Altair, Tom...Harry, wizard...

"It's when I first met Altair." Hasan said as he reopened his blank green eyes. "He told me I was a wizard."

Snape blinked, thinking fast. The boy hadn't known he was a wizard? Wait, Severus should have known that! The boy
was abandoned at an orphanage for Merlin's sake!

"Try again." Snape ordered, "Focus on it. Remember every detail and project it outside yourself. Your soul outside to
protect you."

Hasan took a deep breath. "Expecto Patronum!" he wand swished through the air, the images of the fire, Tina, the feeling
of the bed, heavy, soft beneath him. Wizard...wizard...wizard...A flash of bright silver light illuminated the room, and Snape
blinked in shock. He hadn't expected such a reaction! The giant ball of light burst in an instant, almost fanning out until
dissipating completely.

Inside, Severus was thanking Merlin.

"That was...that was certainly an improvement." Snape said slowly. Hasan nodded indifferently, not adverse to criticism
and not addicted to praise. "How did you meet Altair." Snape asked eagerly, able to ask the question he always wanted to
know the answer to. "You mentioned you were adopted."

He watched Hasan's face carefully with the keen eyes of a spy for signs of distrust and lies. Surprisingly, Hasan seemed
to relax, protruding calmness even as his dark green orbs narrowed in suspicion. It was always the eyes...the truth was
located in no other place. Not in the tone of the voice, nor the shake of the head, but in the spark of the eyes.

"Yes, but I ran away before we could meet at the orphanage. You see, he had talked to my caretaker and they had
scheduled a meeting. He actually followed me to the Leaky Cauldron, did you know? Can you imagine," Hasan said
contemplatively. "Someone going through all that trouble just to find a child?" Hasan laughed lightly, though he had to
tear his eyes away from Severus' black ones.

Oh, the irony! Snape could imagine alright: Dumbledore had just organized for Hagrid to go to America in search of the
Potter boy.

"How did he find you?" Snape asked mildly.

"Surely you can guess." Hasan drawled, glaring dully at the Potions professor. Wasn't he supposed to be an expert on it,
after all?
"Your aura." Snape said, the answer flowing easily to his lips. Hasan nodded with a thoughtful expression on his
otherwise blank face. "But that's impossible! There's only so many colors and to follow one trail through a Wizarding city?
And I am correct in assuming there was a time gap?" Snape interjected.

"About six hours, yes." Hasan said, then paused. Altair had only just explained his aura to him two years ago. Could he
confide in the professor? Did his professor deserve to know something so recently uncovered?

"Yes, Mr. Castell?" Snape prodded, with a slight impatience beneath his light tone.

"My aura." Hasan found himself explain. "It's different." The words tumbled out, and he paused, gauging his reaction
before hurrying on at the look that crossed Severus' face. "Powerful. It was fairly easy to trace."

"Powerful..." Severus repeated, remembering faintly an event occurring two years ago. There's a powerful magical energy
near here...I'm sensing a pulsating emerald. Somewhere...somewhere near here. "Indeed." Suddenly a burst of
inspiration caught Snape and he found himself staring directly into dull jade orbs. "When you were alone, when you were
on your own." Invisib le. "How did you feel? When there was no one else to worry for you or about you, how did you feel?"
Invisib le. "Can you picture that in your mind? The emotion, just the emotion?"

Hasan nodded, chewing lightly at his lip. No one knew who he was. Safety. Alone, Strider. His lids shut over his jade
green eyes and he remembered clearly, staring over the river, staring straight at his reflection...emerald...so
beautiful..."EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A brilliant flash of silver light erupted from his wand as a swirling mass of white magic shot forth from the mist, and
fanned out from a single orb.

Severus gaped. Hasan blinked.

Before them, puffing out its chest proudly was a massive silver peacock, its head held high with a pointed beak, and
large tangible feathers spanning out like the sun, with all the intricate details belonging to the plumage.

"Wow." Hasan breathed, never before having seen anything so magnificent in his life.

The peacock regarded them coldly, long neck stretching out and head tilting as it looked at Hasan and then Severus.
Snape's eyes were wide, disbelieving black, flickering back and forth from Hasan's awestruck face to the regal Patronus.
The peacock opened its beak to let out a trill, and a single note escaped before it faded into nothingness.

Hasan Castell's Patronus was a peacock. Severus took deep breaths to steady himself. A peacock. Hasan Castell's...

"Thank you, Professor." Hasan said suddenly, his voice holding a slight faintness in it. "Deals are fun, are they not?"

Snape could only nod dumbly as the boy walked out the door.

.oOo.

Hasan exited the office, his head feeling dizzy all of a sudden. His Patronus was a peacock? That was weird, wasn't it?
When all Hasan wanted to do was fade away and peacocks stood for pride and extravagance.

But Hasan, don't you want someone to like you for who you are? But Hasan, don't you want recognition? Don't you
deserve to b e praised like Neville for ousting Quirrelmort from the school? Don't you want equal respect? Don't you
want? Don't you want? Don't you-

No! he told himself. I will not b e arrogant! There is no pride in stupidity!

But he couldn't shake the idea that his patronus showed him- the real him- deep inside. Was his pride-? Was his
indignation-? Was his Harry coming out? Hasan couldn't imagine having to become Harry Potter. Harry was arrogant.
Harry was the golden boy. Harry was better off dead.

But no, Hasan had to remind himself that he was all these things. That he shouldn't be allowed to play the saint of the
two, even if the two were one in the same. Harry was not the devil and he was not god. There was no good. There was
no bad.

Hasan would just have to accept that the pride and extravagance was a part of him. There was nothing to gain from
cutting his personality up into categorized bits just to denounce them. Nothing at all.

But out of every animal...why a peacock? Why not a fox? Or a snake? Or even a bear? Honestly! If anyone was vain, it was
Draco Malfoy, who was again missing from the face of the earth.

Hasan began the journey through the dungeons, determined to check the Marauder's Map once more. As he walked,
footsteps echoing off the walls, a feeling of dread came over him like a mist, settling like a lead balloon in the pit of his
stomach. The anxiety.

His chest constricted and he blinked rapidly as he scanned the walls on either side. This paranoia surely wasn't healthy.
This questioning of character surely wasn't healthy...Where was Draco? What if he checked the map and Draco was
gone? He told himself it was stupid, but what if? What if? What i-?

:Haassssssaaann.:

.oOo.

7:00pm.

"Tom?"

"What's wrong, Draco? Am I wrong? You can tell me."

"...No, you weren't wrong." Draco answered tentatively.

"What happened? You can tell me anything, Draco."

"He and I...started a conversation, but it's like all his conversations. No emotion whatsoever!"

"A sociopath, perhaps?" Tom asked.

"No, he's just...I know he's hiding something. I've been obliviated, twice, I think."

"It certainly makes sense..." Tom commented lightly. "He had mentioned something b efore..."

"What?" Draco snapped. "My godfather knows, I bet Lovegood and Longbottom even know! Why don't I?"

"So he hasn't told you?" Tom enquired. "Though it's not something you can really tell..."

"He doesn't bloody trust ME!" Draco raged at the book. "I bloody asked and he didn't bloody answer! What do you know?
SHOW ME!"

"I don't know..." Tom wrote.

"Why don't you know? You know everything!" Draco scrawled.

"I know many things, b ut for me to show you...it requires a parselmouth."

"But Hasan's not a parselmouth!" Draco protested.

"And how would you know? You've b een ob liviated, haven't you?"

"I- it doesn't matter! The only other parselmouths are the Dark Lord and Slytherin!"

"-And me."

Draco froze. "You speak parseltongue?"

"Speak it, write it...But I'm afraid I don't have a voice and the door only accepts verb ally given passwords."

"What do I have to do?" Draco asked recklessly, blood pounding in his ears. This was his chance, this was his chance to
know Hasan, to really get to know him. And he wouldn't miss it for the world.

"Place your hand on the b ook and I can do the rest." The simple sentence sent chills up Draco's spine. Something
wasn't right...his instincts were screaming out in protest...don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. But Hasan...

"What are you going to do?" Draco asked.

"Nothing you wouldn't agree to." the book answered.

Draco looked behind him at the closed door and then at the book. He couldn't hear anyone, no one would know.

"Draco, place your trust in me. I promise I will not fail. Don't you want to see what you've forgotten? What Hasan's hiding
from you?"

What little reserve Draco had crumbled at those last words. It was all for the sake of their friendship. It was all for...the
greater good. He placed his hand on the book.

"Perfect."

And instantly he knew everything was wrong.

A foreign presence slipped its way up his arm like a parasitic snake, reaching for his pulsating core. It was as if his heart
had been disconnected from his brain and plunged into a bucket of ice where it shivered and sputtered and shriveled to
blue. And his nerves, they were on fire! His vision blacked as the book snapped shut. Distantly he felt foreign hands
close around the diary, foreign feet walking towards the door...

"Don't worry, Draco." Tom purred in Draco's voice...Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He knew b etter! He knew b etter! "You've placed
your trust in the right place."

A/N: Wahahahaha! I'm so sorry to leave you like this! What will happen? What will Riddle do? Will the Basilisk survive?
Will Fawkes come? Any thoughts on that patronus? The plot thickens! Dundundun!

A/N2: I'm so sorry this was a prop chapter! It's setting the stage for chapter 19 and it is most important. So sorry. *runs
and hides* But leave a review, won't you?

A/N3: Next chapter will be the 18th of August in honor of this story's one year anniversary! If that's not significant, I don't
know what is. Also, if you've noticed, I've been pretty consistent in keeping every year about ten chapters long. Year three
is going to be...I'm not sure how long, but let's just say I'm on chapter 30 and it's only the first week of Hogwarts! So
please, support this story by dropping a review or two, because next chapter I hope for a lot of loving!

With that said...

Next up, special anniversary chapter: Emerald Eyes

*Chapter 19*: Emerald Eyes
A/N- Please note there is a bit of profanity in this chapter, certainly not unwarranted, but just thought you'd like to know.

A/N2- Happy Anniversary! Thank you everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story! As of now we've got
500favs, 800followers, and 380something reviews! AND Over 100,000 hits! Thanks so very very much!

A/N3- PLEASE REVIEW. (And I wrote CH17 thank-you's this morning, but I will do CH18 later)

"Turn thyself round, and keep thine eyes close shut,

For if the Gorgon appear, and thou shoudst see it,

No more returning upward would there be."

- Canto IX of The Inferno by Dante Alighieri, Lines 55-57

Return of Emerald

Chapter 19: Emerald Eyes

:Haassssssaaann.:

The boy froze in the empty hallway, a cold draft sweeping through the dungeon corridor and through his skin and bones.
He was alone. He wasn't alone.

:I can sssssmell you. Ssssoo juicy, tender flesh...sssssooo long.:

Hasan's nerves shot up. The voice was the same as the one during the Dueling Club. The one spurring the other to kill,
the one that slithered through the castle, the one that spoke his name. The Basilisk.

He glanced quickly down the hall and back the way he came. Alone. Stillness. Where he had only just basked in his
independence and invisibility a moment before, he sorely wished for someone to come down the hall now. Even
Peeves...

:Follow me.: the snake commanded, scales sliding across an old surface that Hasan could hear.

:Where?: Hasan hissed in question. The 'why' was unimportant. Why would anyone kill? Why would anyone harm? The
motivation did not matter as much as formulating a way to survive. The 'where' could buy Hasan just enough time to
calculate an escape.

:You'll know sssssooon enough, hurry. You wouldn't want to keep your friend waiting...:

The snake continued to glide inside the wall, and while Hasan was irritated that the basilisk had all but threatened him,
he was able to garner that the serpent must be using the pipes which meant that they were heading somewhere with
plumbing: the Lake, the kitchens, or the bathrooms.

He followed the occasional hissing out of the dungeons, where he saw no passerby. How was it that he had all the luck?
Obviously Altair had not rubbed off on him...They soon stopped in front of the girl's bathroom where he, Draco, and
Hermione had saved Neville from the troll the year before. It was funnily ironic how everything seemed to fit. The
bathroom had been repaired to its former glory, though it was vacant as ever due to Myrtle.

"Ooohhh! You're that Castell boy!" Myrtle swooned, bursting through the stall door.

"And you must be Myrtle." Hasan answered politely, wondering how both the snake and the ghost knew his name. Who
was it that connected them both? Did it have to do with the troll last year? Draco? Hermione? Neville? "Tell me, has
anyone else come to visit you?" Hasan asked nonchalantly.

Myrtle pouted with her hands on her transparent hips. "Visit me?" she repeated incredulously. "No, they just walk into my
loo without a glance or a 'hi, Myrtle!' Some people are just sooooo rude! I bet you're just like them!" she snapped, "You
don't really want to talk to me!" She frowned and crossed her misty arms over chest yet kept an eye trained on him in a
histrionic show of hope.
Hasan didn't bat an eyelash. He wasn't a liar, but he wasn't stupid either! "Who were they?" Hasan enquired.

"Oh!" Myrtle growled. "The rudest people known to man!...But they were ever so handsome-" she added as an
afterthought.

:Open!: the basilisk commanded impatiently. He didn't have the time to listen to the woes of Moaning Myrtle! Hasan
glanced at the floor, surprised, as the voice seemed to rise from the floor. The snake was below him-? But before he
could even ponder if there was another chamber below, the sinks buckled before him and dipped in a dance, locking
and rearranging, until a single panel of the octagonal sink had fallen into the floor!

Myrtle gasped and flew straight into her stall. "That's the one who killed me!" Her voice echoed up from the toilet seat in
which she was hiding, and Hasan had barely time to regard the spectacle of the sinks before the basilisk hissed again.

:Down. We're waiting.:

The sinks settled around a long and dark passage, and it didn't take much effort to put two and two together. The snake
wanted him to jump down there? Down into the darkness? Into the unknown? How did he know he wouldn't be killed
when he reached the bottom? How did he know there was a bottom? Or if he'd be sent to the pits of hell? Or have to fight
for his second chance at life, like Gandalf?

All his instincts shouted against it, but one culpable thought, one little thought of loyalty and what it meant to think about
more than the self, the ego, the I. Hasan bit his lip and gripped his wand tighter in his hand. Another way? Another out?
No. Sometimes deviations didn't work. Sometimes the answer was so straightforward and clear and detestable, that
being blind was preferable to seeing.

Hasan plunged.

"WAIT-!"

.oOo.

Snape paced intently back and forth in his private chambers. What the Bloody-fucking-Hell? Hasan Castell, the prodigal
son of his idiot friend, had produced a patronus. A fully corporeal peacock patronus, at the age of 12 years old. Snape
mulled over again the vague explanation of how the imbecile managed to find the child, and again was unsatisfied at the
answer. Followed his aura? For six hours? Abandoned at an orphanage? Ran away from being adopted? Hasan made
as much sense as his father sometimes, but still, something else was bothering him.

It had been building for a while, that sometimes, he would just forget he had ever thought it. Things weren't adding up.
The troll, the dagger, the boggart, the dementors, the ring, the snake, the mirror, the stone, the eyes. He was sure of it
now, those emerald eyes had been Lily's. It did not matter that he only saw a flash before the boy crumbled to the floor, or
that the boy clearly had dull jade eyes. Those had been Lily's eyes. Severus was sure of it.

And with this realization came the weight of the world.

Could Hasan Castell be Harry Potter? Dumbledore had looked everywhere for the boy, had sent everyone looking
everywhere for the boy, had tried everything to find the real Boy-Who-Lived! And wouldn't that just be ironic if he was at
Hogwarts the whole time?

How could it be possible? Polyjuice? Charms? No, they would have noticed. They would have sensed the magic, and
Altair...did Altair know? How could a boy so young hide so well and for so long? And if Altair truly had no inkling, then why
bother taking the boy in in the first place? Altair never was one to interfere with charity, so what ulterior motive did the
Slytherin have for adopting this strange, magical boy?

It seemed so obvious now, and yet, the questions became more complex. Why did Hasan befriend Draco when the
Malfoys were a well-known Death Eater Family? Why could he speak to snakes? How was he able to defeat
Quirrelmort? Why did he meet with the dementors?

Shouldn't Severus alert the headmaster now? Call Altair? Or better yet, call the boy back in here and demand answers?

And this was when the second realization hit: What proof did he have? And besides this, telling the headmaster of
Hasan Castell would lead to the discovery of Altair...and inevitably this would not be good for Severus. The thing was, was
he right? And if he was, who else knew? And if they knew, what the hell were they going to do about it?

Severus stopped his pacing. The orphanage.

There's a powerful magical energy near here...I'm sensing a pulsating emerald. Somewhere...somewhere near here.

Severus would bet his Master's degree that this "somewhere near here" was the same orphanage that Dumbledore
himself had checked as being the location of the youngest Potter. It was only eight o'clock and surely it wouldn't take that
long...Surely the headmaster would not need to speak with him and discover his absence...

Snape grabbed his black travelling cloak and threw it over his shoulders. There were only so many things a person
could do to corroborate a secret speculation and Severus knew a thing or two about secrets.

.oOo.

Lucius Malfoy was doubled over a conjured basin, regurgitating his lunch and whatever else was left in his stomach with
various degrees of disgust. The headaches had started again, and Lucius could do nothing to combat them. His blood
thumped painfully against his skull, and his ears were ringing, constantly ringing!

"Lucius, dear? Are you alright?" Narcissa called from the door.

Lucius cursed his luck and wiped his mouth. He was sure he put up silencing spells! "I'm fine, Narcissa. I'll be out in a
minute."

He stilled and waited for her light footfalls to make their way down the steps, before vomiting once more. Altair, he
growled inwardly. He was sure of it. It was just like how it started last time: The dizziness, the nausea, the pounding
migraines...

Lucius cleaned his face and mouth, vanished the basin, and stumbled back into his bedroom, glancing over the rail to
see Narcissa rearranging some roses in the foyer. He had gotten her some never-ageing roses for Valentine's Day in a
roundabout way of apologizing for all the secrets he kept. Obviously he couldn't tell her this, and her gratitude always had
this way of melting down his heart. Damn Altair. Damn memories. Damn secrets.

He wondered absently if he should just give up and tell Snape everything, but quickly shot it down. This was between
him and Altair. No one else. And in a way, Lucius reveled in the thought. And why? Well, he couldn't really say. A wave of
vertigo smacked him again, and his mind was set. Quickly he grabbed his quill and parchment and jotted down the first
thing that came to his mind:

"Can't you b loody stop it?"

"Lucius!" Narcissa yelled, "I'll tell them you're working late, all right?"

That's right, the dinner at the Nott's. Lucius groaned as his head throbbed in agony. How could he even think of
socializing?

"Enjoy yourself, Cissa." Lucius shouted, relieved that he was finally alone to suffer in private. He didn't want to arouse
suspicion, but even more, he didn't want Narcissa to have to worry about him. He was helping a dead man on blackmail;
it didn't take much to surmise that whatever tasks he was told to do weren't exactly legal. And still, Narcissa loved him.
She didn't question him when he locked himself up in his room to research or write. She didn't comment except to ask
about his health. In short, Lucius didn't deserve her.

As the door clicked shut below, there was an instant rapping at the window. What? Lucius raised his head and focused
his silver eyes on the small gray bird at the window. Altair! He incinerate his pitiful note with a flick of his wand and
opened the windows so that the little owl could hop inside. There was a small, rolled up letter on its leg which Lucius
carefully untied. Once relieved, the owl gave a hoot and flew off, leaving Lucius to stare down at the parchment in his
hands. His heart thumped and his head cleared for just an instant.

"Lucius,

I hope life finds you well. (Lucius snorted). I apologize for the hasty manner in which I address you, b ut certain
circumstances require me to b e quick. In the case that you have not had the time to research, Slytherin's locket once
b elonged to a man named Tom Marvolo Riddle. I need it. Preferab ly b efore the end of the week. I am counting on you.
Use all the resources you have availab le, yet I would suggest starting at home. Elves can b e ever so helpful.

Best of luck,

Altair Castell"

Lucius groaned and pressed his fingers to his temple. The message was about as cryptic as Dumbledore! And why did
the man need the locket now? If he could blackmail Lucius Malfoy and fake his own death, then why couldn't he get the
bloody locket himself? Perhaps he's worried about being caught? Yet a word from Lucius and the whole Ministry would
go searching for him. Besides, what vaguely intelligent person put their full name on paper?

Insult to injury: Lucius was being controlled by this moron!

Well, what the hell was he supposed to do about it? There was another possibility however, one of convenience. House-
elves? What could Dobby possibly- ah. The disappearances. Perhaps Altair had been keeping an eye on Dobby as well.
It wouldn't surprise Lucius, but it certainly didn't make him feel any better that his elf was being stalked! Lucius sighed
and reconsidered his theory. What connected his house-elf's comings and goings to the Slytherin locket?

"Dobby!" he called, angry but tired all the same. There was a momentary pause before the house-elf appeared with a
sharp pop.

"What is Master Malfoy be wanting, sir?" His large emerald eyes wavered to the side of Lucius' head, and Lucius' eyes
narrowed. There was no doubt that his elf was up to something. How had he not seen this earlier?

"Where were you just now?" Lucius demanded, glaring coldly at the elf's new sage pillowcase.

"Dobby wa-be-" he stuttered, thin legs shifting his weight from either foot. "Dobby, be, er, at."

"OUT WITH IT!"

"Grim- Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" Within an instant, the little elf was up against the wall, smashing his brains out onto the
stone. "Bad Dobby! Dobby not be saying!"

Lucius growled. How could he not see this coming? "Dobby! Stop that at once! I am your Master and you will listen to me!
Where were you? Who forbade you from speaking to me?"

The poor creature wrenched himself away from the wall, stumbling into the bed, when his face froze in horror.

"Dobby is being- be called now, sir!" he squeaked. His purposeful botching of the English language not missed by
Lucius who frowned and held up a hand. Another wave of nausea hit, and he shut his eyes in time for the little elf to snap
away.

What the hell? Someone was giving orders to his house-elf? HIS HOUSE-ELF! Who would dare? Who had the right? All
his relatives were carted off to Azkaban! Who-

Black.

Sirius Black. Black was stealing his house-elf? Well, who else could it be? He was the only other with the rights to
control his house-elf, and the thought wasn't improbable. He had been so absorbed in his own little world of Altair and
memories that he had almost forgotten that Sirius Black had been freed from Azkaban. Which left the question: where
did he reside? There were only so many properties belonging to the House of Black- surely it was in London
somewhere? Or near London?

Dobby reappeared suddenly, looking much relieved and very nervous.

"Sorry, Master Lucius, I is free to speak now."

This only served to increase the Malfoy Lord's suspicions.

"If you lie, then I shall know." he threatened.

Dobby cowed back and shuffled his feet. "I is serving Master Black and Mister Lupin, sir."

"The werewolf!" Lucius exclaimed. Oh, this was just great! Just bloody great! As if his life wasn't messed up enough, add
a gloating werewolf!

"But they is not knowing I is yours." Dobby continued. "They think I is part of the house."

"They don't know." Lucius repeated.

"No, sir!" Dobby squeaked. "I is being careful, and Kreacher is always there when I is not."

"Where is it?"
The house-elf bit his lip.

"WHERE IS IT?" Lucius howled. "You said you could speak!"

"Only if Dobby is freed!" the elf cried.

Lucius was perplexed. What the hell? His house-elf was demanding things from him now? HE was a Malfoy! THAT was
a house-elf!

"I swear I will flay you alive until-" Nausea. Guilt. Sickness. Vertigo. Lucius doubled over and shut his eyes.

"Master Lucius? Master Lucius!" Dobby screeched.

Blood was rushing through his ears. What was wrong with him? What was happening? His chest constricted, ribs
choking his lungs.

"All I bloody want is Slytherin's Locket!" Lucius choked out, gritting his teeth. He was not guilty! He was not backing down!
He was not freeing his house-elf! He was a Malfoy! His world rocked on its axis. The floor was swirling. He couldn't do
this...he couldn't live with himself if he did this. Oh, sod it!—

"Accio sock!" A velvet black sock came zooming from the drawer and into his outstretched hand. The world was receding,
the land was drying up. "Here!" He tossed the sock to the shocked creature with grace of movement, grimacing all the
while.

Dobby caught the sock and cradled the it to his cheek; Lucius sat with his mouth agape. His world had settled down,
finally, and the sky was still up, and the ground was still down...He breathed out in relief before realizing what he had just
done. But he had to!

"Slytherin's Locket, sir?" Dobby asked after he had calmed down some. "I remember Kreacher hiding with it...it is evil, sir.
Pure evil. Kreacher i-be trying to break it, but he can't."

Lucius raised his head and looked the thoughtful elf in the eyes. Somewhere deep inside he knew he did the "right
thing", but now, all he could do was nod his head, numbly, and let fate have its way with him.

"Please."

Dobby immediately snapped his fingers and vanished, leaving Lucius to stare at the place the elf had last been. Evil?
Dangerous?

Lucius shook his head and sighed. Life wasn't getting any easier and now he was one house-elf short! And, by Merlin!-

Altair had probably planned it out from the start.

.oOo.

Hasan plunged.

"WAIT-!"

His world was a whirl of black as he descended into the unknown. He landed with all the agility of a cat, his shoes
scoffing the hard stone floor with a succinct impact. He glanced up to see who had called him. It was a distinctive
feminine voice, and if Hasan were to wager a guess...

Luna's smiling face popped into view at the mouth of the tunnel, her beautiful blonde hair tasseled around her face like
she had just been running through a windy field.

"Luna?" Hasan asked surprised, wondering why his heart was pounding as hard as it was. Without a pause, the physic
jumped down to join him and he had just the reflexes to break her fall before she fell face flat on the ground. "Luna!"
Hasan chided, "You can't just-"

"I knew you would catch me!" Luna beamed, shredding whatever lecture on safety Hasan had prepared to fire at her. "I
was trying to learn horseish, but I figured that being a pragmatist was best! Unicorns are so nice!" she told him rapidly,
soothing down her hair with her left hand. That's when Hasan noticed she was carrying something black and rolled up in
her right. "Oh this?" Luna asked excitedly. "It's the Hogwarts sorting hat!"

"I can see that." Hasan said, "but why do you-?"

Suddenly a great hissing filled the room, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. In his surprise he had almost
forgot about his mission in the first place. What was wrong with him? Surely Luna couldn't affect him that much- that was
ludicrous- his mind could handle multitasking, or at least, he thought so before.

:More friendssss for the ressscue? Come on Hasssan, I don't like to be kept waiting...and I grow sssso hungry.:

Hasan inwardly shivered as he gazed at Luna. He didn't want her in harm's way, but he could hardly control another
person; it simply wasn't right. Besides, if this truly was a basilisk, he needed all the help he could get.

"Ooh! Was that Slytherin's Monster?" Luna wondered. "Enemies of the Heir Beware!"

"Wait, what?" Hasan asked.

"It was written on the wall one day, but I washed it off! Hmm, I think it was on Valentine's Day, but everyone was so busy
snogging that no one noticed. But I wasn't, so I saw it!"

It must have been when he was outside, Hasan realized. But why hadn't Luna told him this before? He glanced at her
and she still had the dreamy expression her face.

"Do you know who did it?" Hasan asked lightly, started to walk further into the tunnel.

"Oh! The man with many faces!" Luna answered cheerfully. It was as if his heart had been shot twice through.
Quirrelmort was back? How? Why? And the bastard had his friend...His blood was pounding through his brain. They had
to hurry.

"How do you know this?" Hasan asked as they reached a second door with great metal snakes barring it shut.

"Inspiration." Luna sighed. "Sometimes knowing the surface is such a burden."

Hasan continued to examine the door, expecting the basilisk to order him to hurry up at any minute, but when no order
came, Hasan concluded that they were near enough to the Chamber of Secrets that no pipes where necessary to talk to
him. This sent an odd unsettling feeling to Hasan's stomach, but he forced it down, knowing that the very worst that could
happen was death...Oh Merlin...Luna was watching him closely as he steadied himself in front of the vault door.

:Open!: Hasan commanded, keeping his eyes trained on the final snake-bolt to move. As it slithered back into the cog
box, Hasan nodded curtly to Luna who then went to stand behind him, Sorting Hat at the ready!

Hasan flicked his wand at the door, which opened with a great moan, and softly, he climbed inside. It looked like a great
aisle of dark green tiles with snakes decorating the walls. Hard to miss was the great grey head of Salazar Slytherin,
who had a very artistic beard that flowed from his slight chin. How could someone create a chamber this massive in total
secrecy? Magic...It was so surreal.

At the very end of the aisle, right in front of Salazar's head, was a man who was standing with his head bent, staring
down in fascination at a body Hasan couldn't identify. Perhaps if he were more lucid, the answer would have presented
itself to him. As it was, his thoughts were bouncing wildly about, darting from Voldemort, to Salazar, to Luna.

He felt a hand on his arm and cold metal pressed against his skin. What-?

"Don't forget your friends, Hasan. See, they never fail you." Her voice was lower now, not as happy, but still Luna. He
glanced at her in confusion before it clicked. The dagger. The Malfoy dagger. But how had it gotten in there? When had he
put the dagger in his sleeve? Luna raised a finger to her soft pink lips. "Sshh! Blind things can still hear!" With this cryptic
remark, she began to walk forward, flattening out the hat and placing it on her head.

Hasan's jade green eyes widened at her audacity, before he strode powerfully in front of her and lead the way to the end.
He would protect her. He wouldn't be able to protect everyone, but he'd protect her for sure.

As they neared, Hasan kept his eyes trained on the unknown man, knowing this to be Voldemort. He daren't glance at his
friend and run the risk of faltering. He couldn't show any weakness. He could not feel!

Suddenly, the man's head snapped up to greet Hasan when he was about five feet away.

"Hasan Castell."

The man was handsome, very handsome, with dark hair and a sculpted jaw. His eyes were sharp, yet not altogether
clear, as if they were guarding some great secret. On second thought, Hasan was sure they were.
Hasan stared, unable to move. What was he expected to do? Where was the snake? Why was he here? Was he in
danger? Who was the captive? He didn't want to reveal his own intentions before knowing what the hell was going on.

"Who are you?" Hasan asked finally, jade eyes locking onto the man's.

"You already know me, Hasan,"—he smiled,—"I love books almost as much as you. Take a look." He dropped a graceful
hand and Hasan allowed himself to see the book, and only the book, laying shut beside a still body. He would not look,
and yet, that blonde hair was hard to ignore against the dark green tiles.

Hasan shoved all guilt from his mind. There shouldn't be any emotions, least of all guilt! They were friends, nothing
more, nothing less, and yes, he did notice that Draco had been acting weird, and yes he could've searched his rooms,
and yes, there were many things he could have done, but now, all the blame lay with Draco.

So then why was his chest constricting? He knew this book was Dark...he knew it from the start.

"Why?" Hasan asked, not caring to know How, or When, or What. In order to defeat an opponent, it was far more logical to
figure out what he was fighting against.

"Because you wouldn't." Tom said, "I offered to answer all your questions if you just allowed me to show you this place.
It's called the Chamber of Secrets by the way. Oh, but I forget my manners: You even brought a little friend. My name is
Tom Marvolo Riddle." He swished his wand in the air, Draco's wand, causing the words to rearrange themselves.

Hasan, who had not glanced back at Luna once, was surprised to hear her laugh.

"Oh! I get it! You're the man with many faces!" Luna released a tinkling laugh, even stamping on the floor to get out all the
energy. "Ha! It's true!"

Hasan watched as Riddle's perfect face twitched before stealing a glance at Draco. He appeared unharmed, except for
the waxy complexion that was extreme even for the sun deprived Malfoy heir. If Riddle was here, out of the diary, and
Draco was here, clearly dying on the floor...Life was being transferred. But how was this possible, unless, unless...

Tom Riddle was completely oblivious to his change in demeanor, instead gesturing to the statue of Salazar's head as if
unveiling a trophy.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of Hogwarts four!" A large rumbling filled the cavern as the mouth dropped open,
immediately after which, a gigantean serpent came slithering forth, hissing and sputtering venom. This was the basilisk
Hasan had heard in the walls. It was quite another thing to see it. He averted his eyes immediately, warning Luna to do
the same, when Tom spoke again. "Don't be afraid, Hasan. You know I can control her and she won't strike until I give the
order. So let's talk, you and me..."

Hasan could only nod, feeling his skin crawl beneath his eerie gaze. Could his soul be sucked out too? Or more
specifically, could Tom Riddle steal his life force?

"Draco was a stupid little boy," Tom continued, "Always wondering what his father thought, or what Hasan thought. Hasan
this, Hasan that. Do you think he trusts me, Tom? I feel like I've b een ob liviated, Tom! I-"

"How much longer?" Hasan interrupted, really not caring what internal thoughts plagued Draco at night. Tom tapped
Draco's hand with his nearly solid shoe.

"As long as it takes for you to die. I don't have a flair for the dramatics, but I do intend to return his consciousness just as
long as it takes for the life to fade from your eyes."

The basilisk hovered in Hasan's peripheral vision. What could he do? When could he do it...?

Suddenly, Luna let out a warrior cry and leapt forward! Hasan was about to scream at her when he noticed something
peculiar: she had a sword in her hand, and the Sorting hat around her eyes. He would recognize the ruby hilt anywhere,
the prophesized sword of Gryffindor, drawn and redrawn in art and diagrams of books. And the hat? Had Luna pulled the
sword from the hat? Just like a true magician? The irony was enough to strike anyone dumb, but Hasan's pulse was
spiking rapidly. The snake was rearing, barring its fangs and slashing its tail across the echoing ground.

Determined not to look in its eyes, Hasan allowed himself to watch the spritely witch stab at the basilisk like a great,
deadly piñata. He wondered if luck would be enough to save them- what were the chances of Luna striking those beady
eyes?

"Hasan, you worry too much!" Luna called out, sidestepping the snake's snapping jaws. She struck the dark green
scales and then sliced straight through the stomach. It appeared to not have any affect except perhaps to make the
serpent angrier.

"Her life force is very strong." Tom murmured from Hasan's side, "I wonder how strong I'd be-"

"Shut up, Voldemort!" Hasan screamed, forgetting Altair's instructions in the face of reality. "Don't you dare talk about
Luna that way you sadistic bastard!"

"And then perhaps I'll make you watch as they both fade from existence. Have you ever had to hide a body, Hasan? It's
not that hard-"

Hasan tuned him out as he watched the dance between the basilisk as Luna. Her blonde hair whipped around her face,
the badgered hat still atop her head. He should be helping, he shouldn't be stalling Tom and hoping that Draco died any
slower! But how? This- this thing- was a part of Voldemort's soul. He saw this now, but had no name for it. Was this
another thing Altair failed to teach him about? Was this another thing that Altair knew much about?

"Yay!" A few yards down, Luna had managed to puncture one of the eyes, leaving the snake to spasm in air, thrashing
wildly from the pain.

"Shit!" Riddle screamed, :Kill the girl! Kill the girl!: He hadn't expected the lunatic to get this far!

The beast, spurred by its Master's wishes, tried to focus on Luna with just one eye. Hasan had to do something, why
hadn't he moved before?

"Stupefy!" Hasan growled, but the light barely itched the creature. Tom laughed softly from the side.

"Didn't you know? Magical beasts don't like magic." Tom taunted, staring down at Draco. "Shame, it seems as if your time
to running out."

Hasan barred his teeth and sprinted towards Luna. Damn Tom, Damn Voldemort! He grabbed his dagger, wondering if it
wouldn't just be a pinprick in the snake's armor, and began to stab everywhere he could, aiming for the underbelly and
the neck. Somewhere in all this, they had backed up to the statue of Slytherin and using his resources, Hasan climbed
atop the first layer of marble beard.

"Hasan! You can look now!" Luna declared in a cheery voice, succeeding in drawing his eyes away from everywhere but
the snake's head. Indeed, if the snake was angry before, it was nothing compared to how furious it was now. It keened
terribly, splintering their eardrums, and smashed its head down towards Luna.

:Kill! Kill!: Tom urged maniacally, :Kill them all!:

Without thinking, Hasan plunged himself before Luna, wrapping her in his arms as the snake came barreling down. He
reached for his knife as the head drew near, shooting it upward in a blind show of faith. Was there any deity he could pray
to? Was luck about to forsake him forever?

His dagger hit bone in a sickening crack, as Luna's sword plunged up into the flesh of the mouth. Together, their
weapons pierced through the skull, Luna's slicing open the brain. Like a machine, the snake shut down, tail going still,
and head shaking before drooping. Up close, Hasan could see the punctured eyes, stabbed through with a needlelike
accuracy. He turned back to Luna, never happier in his life whipped off her hat, and kissed her right on the cheek.

"Hasan, watch out-!"

But it was too late. The snake's head, skewered on the sword had slid down, barely brushing a sharpened fang against
Hasan' outer robes, and yet, it tore through his fabric and his skin, the venom seeping into his flowing blood. Magical
wounds were certainly something he could live without.

A wave of fatigue punched him in the head, as a fist clenches around his heart. The room spun, his senses extending
only to steady breathing of Luna as she half-dragged, half-carried, him to the middle of the room.

"You like bargains, don't you Hasan?" Tom asked, "I get three for the price of one. He's dead, Hasan. Dead. Draco is-"

"SHUT UP!" Luna screeched, dropping Hasan gently and rearing back her fist. "YOU FUCKED UP PIECE OF SHIT! HOW
COULD YOU?" She slammed her fist hard against the corporeal soul, making him double over with sheer pain.

Hasan's vision as swimming. Did Luna just punch the Dark Lord? He clutched his shoulder, wondering how he could be
so stupid. Self-sacrifice had been farthest from his mind and yet...that only served to prove that he had an inward hero
complex just like the Boy-Who-Lived. He didn't want this! He didn't want this! But he wanted Luna alive even more than he
cared about his self-esteem. If it meant keeping his friends safe, then to hell with his personal morals. To hell with self-
preservation. He would sacrifice him Slytherin side if it meant keeping Luna safe...

What was wrong with him?

Distantly he heard Luna crouch before him, cupping his cheek with her hand.

"I knew it." she breathed. "But the unicorns confirmed my suspicions." Thinking that she had totally lost it, Hasan tried to
shake his head, but she ignored this. "You have the most beautiful emerald eyes in the world."

Hasan froze.

:You! You are the Harry Potter?: Tom hissed curled in on himself with pain a little ways apart from them. :I thought I'd
recognize you on sight, but perhaps not all my magic has been restored...:

Wait, that meant...Draco wasn't dead.

A glass stopper was uncorked from a bottle and something cool and lovely was poured over his shallow wound.

"Unicorn tears." Luna murmured. The skin began to reseal itself, the clarity restoring to Hasan's mind and sight. He saw
Luna crawl to Draco and drop some of the liquid into Draco's mouth.

But no! It wouldn't work, it was the diary! It was all the diary! But how to destroy it? He glanced around for the sword of
Godric Gryffindor, but Luna, detecting his thoughts, shook her head.

"It disappeared after I dropped it." Dropped? It? Shit! Shit! Shit!

Horrorstruck, Hasan saw Tom laughing to himself. And then, Hasan knew what to do.

"Give me the diary." Hasan requested softly. "Now please."

Luna lifted Draco's limp hand off of the book and slid it obediently across the floor to Hasan.

:Hey, wait!: Tom began to calm, blinking in confusion.

"You like bargains don't you, Tom?" Hasan raised the dagger above his head and plunged it straight through the pages,
full of something much more sinister than ink. Something bled forth the diary, like ink or blood, or both, and Tom began to
howl, desperately, angrily, and pathetically. "Selling your soul for the fraction of the benefits?" Tom began to scream, his
outstretched hand vanishing into the air, his voice fading last, ringing in the empty chamber.

Luna was watching him curiously, bright silver eyes sharp and beautiful.

"You knew him, didn't you?" It wasn't a question. The blood lay at their feet- the liquid spilling.

"The French have two words for knowing. One is connaître, one is savoir. I knew him as one knows a fact, but not as a
person. I don't think I'll ever know him as a person." Hasan said lightly. He peered into the inky pool and stared at his
reflection. There was his green eyes and unruly black hair. His lightning bolt scar.

Strangely, he wasn't as relieved as he had thought...in fact, he was beginning to panic. How was he to go back? Harry
Potter surely wouldn't be able to go striding freely down the halls of Hogwarts! Oh, what had he done? He squeezed his
eyes shut and focused intensely on the face that was not his face. The mask that was no mask. Hasan not Harry, Hasan
not Harry. This was a dream, a dream, a terrib le terrib le dream. Let him b e Hasan!

A distant thud, footfalls.

Please! Please! Please!

Panting.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring at the one who was not him. He was Hasan. He was safe.

He locked eyes with Luna and she smiled despite her tears, before gesturing to the entrance. Right on time, a tentative
whimper filled the room.

"L-Luna? H-Hasan?"
Hasan and Luna exchanged another glance.

"I called him." Luna whispered, holding up her ring hand. The Protean ring glinted on her finger.

"W-what's going on down here?" Neville asked, stepping further into the chamber. "What is this place?" When he
reached the trio, his breath caught in his throat. "Is that? Is that Draco?" His eyes bugged in horror at the pasty blond,
lying across the floor as if dead.

Luna nodded sadly. "I'm sorry Neville! I never meant it!"

"YOU? You did this?" Neville screamed in a hoarse whisper. The savior of the Wizarding world was paralyzed by the girl
before him. The girl whom everyone called Loony Lovegood...what had she done to Draco?

Hasan gripped his wand.

"I'm! I'm so sorry, Neville!...But I haven't done it yet." Luna said nonsensically, tearing up. "But I wanted to apologize
anyway."

Hasan shut his eyes. No! No! It was so obvious and yet fraught with so many contradictions! There had to be another
way... Even as he struggled against his own unknown memories...

"Luna, I don't-" Neville protested helplessly.

"Obliviate." Hasan whispered, hitting Neville squarely in the chest with a jet of white light. Hypocrite. Hypocrite. Hypocrite.
The mantra pounding in the boy's brain. By what right did he have to take away information?

"Confundus!" Luna yelled instantly after, their spells hitting simultaneously. The Gryffindor golden boy shivered before
slumping down unconscious. "You stabbed the Basilisk with the sword of Gryfindor and saved Draco from harm." Luna
said clearly, swishing her wand around the boy's head.

The spell appeared to work, for Neville twitched in his dreamlike state. Satisfied, Luna beamed at Hasan as if the last
hour had not happened. But Hasan knew it had. Knew it had not all been some figment of his creation. Hasan glanced
around the chamber to the dead basilisk to the diary to his arm and to the bodies. It was just Hasan and Luna right now.

They were in it together.

.oOo.

Lucius sat at his desk, waiting, just waiting, for the elf to return. Dobby had been gone approximately nine minutes, and
Lucius had begun to wonder what was keeping him.

Surely he hadn't been intercepted! Just as he was about to panic, Dobby had rematerialized with three hats on his head,
a baggy green sweater, and a small package clutched in his hands.

"Mr. Malfoy sir must be treating Mr. Regulus' locket with great care!" Dobby squeaked in warning. "Dobby has agreed to
trade his freedom for this, but Dobby is not wanting to share this evil! You must promise to destroy it, sir! Please, Mr.
Malfoy sir!"

Lucius frowned down at the bundle as Dobby began to carefully unwrap it. A relatively small octagonal locket,
ornamented with a green S, fell from an old silver chain.

"And what makes it so dangerous?" Lucius asked quietly.

Dobby hesitated, "I not be knowing, sir. We house-elves can just feel it, sir. Now Dobby must be off! Winky be helping Mr.
Crouch with the funeral..."

With a snap the creature was gone, leaving the locket in a heap of chain on the bed. Lucius reached for his wand and
cast several detecting charms, but sensed nothing in the way of wards or alarms. Well, Dobby had been so bent on
destroying it, so perhaps this Kreacher had already broken through the minor protections?

He sighed and turned back to Altair's letter. Altair was waiting for him...all he had to do was send it and be done, yet he
was certain that his headache wouldn't go away any time soon. In fact, Lucius had a sneaking suspicion that it would
never go away until Altair willed it to. And wasn't that just a silly thought?

He wrapped the locket in a minor protection charm (for flight), before taking out some heavy parchment.
"Dear Altair,

What is the point of this? I need to know; I don't just fetch. My head is splitting and I deserve answers! My house-elf is free,
no thanks to you, and my relationship with Narcissa has b een disturb ed b y my secrecy. She suspects nothing of course,
b ut has b een out of the house for long periods of time with her friends. And I? How can she enjoy me in her life when I
am all b ut chained to a devil's contract with you? I deserve to know: What exactly am I getting for you? Why are they
dangerous? Why did my house-elf know? Is there a cure for my headaches?

Is there an end?

Sincerely,

L.A.M."

.oOo.

Severus Snape apparated just outside the Leaky Cauldron, merging into the stream of muggle pedestrians. He crossed
the road at the crosswalk, and headed down until he reached the outskirts of the city.

Penelope's House, how suitable for one who's supposed to be dead. How could Altair not have known? How could
Dumbledore not have known? Not for the first time, Snape wondered if his entire life was all just one practical joke.
Perhaps he'd find out everyone was an actor and play back the footage of his pathetic confusion. Oh, he could only hope.

Severus turned down a lane into a small residential neighborhood, remembering bits and pieces from the pensieve
memories. The area was so remote and away from Surrey that he didn't think the boy had run off, no matter how stupid
he could be. Clearly, the Dursley's had hated the boy. How could Dumbledore have missed this too?

The sky began to darken into a pretty navy, with scarcely any clouds. Sickly looking grass grew by his feet and few
buildings grew from the barren field. Just living here would drive a body insane! He passed by a farm and a large
windmill, as well as a hill and a few other mounds. His sharp obsidian eyes were only ever on the shambles that was
the orphanage. He was prepared to break through memory charms; he was prepared to break minds to get what he
needed.

Had the Potter's son really made him into this? Severus sighed, knowing that this was a last reserve. Yes, Voldemort
was up and about, hiding Merlin knows where, but Severus had a heart, (hidden somewhere in that black hole of his.)

He knocked on the door. Silence. He knocked again. The door swung open to reveal a lanky man in overalls.

"Can I help you?" he held a book in his hand, and peering behind him, there were shelves. A library! Where was the
orphanage? Had Hasan made it all up? Was Dumbledore mistaken?

"Did this used to be an orphanage?" Severus asked, his throat dry.

"Why yeah!" the man grunted, straw stuck out of his teeth. "But Social Services came after a particularly harsh complaint.
So they gave the property over to me."

"And you are?"

"Ted. Won't you come in? Grab a book? You look like you like to read."

Snape tried his hardest not to sneer. "So you're a local?" he wondered.

"Yes! Been here ever since my grandpapa and my..."

Snape tuned him out and entered the decrepit the library. Compared to the Hogwarts library, this was merely a lost and
found. He tried not to look around too disdainfully, slapping an awkward smile on his face.

"Do people usually come here?" Snape asked, eyes taking in the crudely cut log shelves with distaste.

"Rarely." the man snorted.

"What do they read?"

"Fiction mostly. Fantasy, Science fiction, history even!"

"The Lord of the Rings?" Snape suggested nonchalantly, turning and raising an eyebrow. The man nodded, happy to
have found someone who was actually speaking with him for more than two minutes.

"Oh yes! But er- I'm missing the third book."

"Indeed?"

"Yeah, he was a good boy and all so I thought he'd return it by now...guess not. It's been about two years now."

Snape nodded carefully, wondering how to formulate his sentence. His heart was pounding as it did so rarely. He was
so close, he could hear the response. He knew it, he knew the answer.

"And this boy...this boy...what did he look like?"

The librarian blinked at him, then smiled. "The boy? Oh, yes, I see now. His you could never forget his eyes- they were
the most extraordinary emerald."

Something in Snape's mind shattered.

END OF PART 1

A/N: So what did you think? Please review! Today means a lot to me because it marks the beginning of my ROE journey!

A/N2: Please Vote!

Defense Teacher for Year 4?

a) Lupin

b) Snape

c) UmBITCH

d)_other_
*Chapter 20*: Loyalties
A/N: Good evening, everyone! School has started and the charming bags are back under my eyes. I'm still planning on
updating every month, but I'm not currently writing anything new. I'm just as sad as you are :( So please, when you have a
minute, leave a review and give me a smile!

A/N2: HOLY-! 400+ Reviews? I'm blessed. So blessed. Thank you so much everyone for all of your support. The story is
moving along nicely, I hope. Just a fair warning, pay attention to the times because this chapter and next chapter are
weirdly connected. I realize that it is very difficult to follow, but I hope it makes sense. If you have any questions about
what happened when, please send me a PM!

Also, a shout out to greyhoundxx who has graciously beta-ed this and many other chapters. Thank you!

ENJOY!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 20: Loyalties

She was beautiful once, with black hair, full lips, and blazing black eyes. She was loved once by a man, who was
handsome as well as wealthy, and used to reside within a lovely little estate with millions of little house-elves who
catered to her every whim. At least, this was what she thought.

Now, undeniably, she lay decrepit, heavy lids graying over, hair frizzing wildly and unkempt, nails gnawed, teeth yellowed,
hands and arms shaking, throat dry, cracked...Or maybe she was always like this? Hiding just beneath the surface?

Her eyes darted around, though there were no visitors, nor would there ever be, and she shuddered as a dementor
came just a bit too close, reaching in a ghastly hand and grabbing at the air, in a motion very similar to choking...

"Just you wait till I get my wand and I'll blast you to bits!" Bellatrix ground out, barring her teeth and standing up in her
rags. She had no wand, yet kept a hand out in front of her as if force of habit.

"Oh shut it will you, Bella? We're dead!" Junior groaned, and a sound like clanging metal beat against their joint wall. "My
mother was our only hope! And now she's dead! She waited too damn long! NO! HE waited too damn long!"

"You relied on others and they failed! What else is new?" Bella screeched, creeping forward towards the dementor where
it was still grasping at the air. "You stupid creature! I'll kill YOU!"

Hasan sighed as he slithered up the wall and into the prison corridor. His body was no shorter than an average worm,
yet he did not inch, he slithered. The moans of insane prisoners, pleads for death, and nonsensical babbling filled the
cold island with dread that pierced the thickest of wills. Hasan found it seeping into him, from the walls and from the
sounds! He slid on, passing unnoticed beneath the familiar shapes of the dementors. He slid on, and on, and on...cells
streaming past in blurs of hideous faces and myriad bars. So much magic was locked within these confines...so much
hate. He sighed, relaxed, as the feelings swirled within him.

Hasan flicked his tongue in and out, tasting for Bellatrix Lestrange like a radar. He would have to be subtle until the
strike...as he reached another intersection, more scents joined the first, less strong, but evident. There was no way of
describing it, just that they were his. They called out to him always, and Hasan knew he would have come sooner if not
for last year's delay. And what a delay it had been...

For the past year Hasan had been surviving, slowly building up what little he could salvage before facing anyone,
whether it was friend or foe. He turned into the very next corridor, hit all at once with the scents of his own. Dementors
floated down the hall, feasting off the frivolous ideas that his followers had, (for surely they couldn't have happy thoughts).
One was even reaching its hand into a cell and swiping at the air.

Hasan smiled and shifted his skin, feeling the scaly armor flow off of him like a layer of water, revealing naught but a little
man. They could not see him yet, for he was not in view, but they would see and they would know who had saved them.
He stepped forward and muttered a stream of Latin that obliterated the dementors into sand.

Bellatrix was the first to realize their absence and rushed to the bars, cackling madly. She did not expect much more than
a guard with a bowl of slush, or perhaps a Ministry official come for off-the-record interrogations. When her eyes had
dashed across what little she could see from her cell, she let out a blood curdling shriek of delight.
"MY LORD! MY LORD!"

Instantly, the others were up, Dolohov, Rookwood, Mulciber, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange. They woke fully to the
sound of Junior's cruel taunt.

"Finally gone mad have, ya?" Junior sneered.

Hasan let Bella look her full before he walked slowly down the hall. Gasps echoed from both sides, ever accompanied
by Bella's shrieks of insane pleasure. Hasan smirked, bare feet brushing through the dementor sand, black cloak
swishing against his short, frail, body, no more than a trace of his former glory...

"Confringo!"

The entire corridor illuminated with light, walls blasting apart, shattering from the mere power stored behind the word,
Bellatrix's laughter..."My Lord! My Lord! My Lord!"

.oOo.

Hasan started, chest heaving as if all his magic had been compressed and blasted out. Sweat dripped from his
forehead, and his hands shook with the magical residue.

The dementors! Azkab an! He fruitlessly tried to get up, but his legs became entangled in the smooth sheet, sending
him toppling to the ground.

It was then that Hasan realized that he was nowhere near Azkaban, that he no longer possessed scales, and that he
was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He glanced around the white infirmary, spotting
Draco fast asleep in the bed beside him. Uh! His head! What had happened? Where was Neville? Where was Luna?
And what the hell had he just seen?

One thing at a time.

Hasan steadied his breath and rearranged himself back onto the bed. The last thing he remembered was getting hit
with a stunner, sometime after Neville was confounded... Suddenly, the doors of the Hospital Wing burst open, revealing
the headmaster in somber blue robes and a tall, pale man with a weary, pale face. This man was Lucius Malfoy, though
one wouldn't believe it right away. His cheeks were sallow, forehead wrinkled, blond hair thinning into a seedy silver
sheet.

Hasan didn't have time to lean back and feign sleep, so he simply stared. And amazingly, the two stared back.

"Mr. Castell." Dumbledore said not unkindly, blue eyes twinkling behind those half-moon spectacles, "How are you
feeling?" His voice was strained, as if he had just run a long time, or had been shouting.

Lucius' eyes, previously trained on his knocked-out son, were now appraising Hasan with sharp grey eyes. Something
flickered in their depths, but Hasan couldn't it be, it was so quick.

Hasan bit his lip and assessed himself, not feeling remotely as hurt as he had predicted.

"I feel fine."

The headmaster nodded slowly before turning to Draco's unconscious form.

"And he?"

"Draco's asleep."

"Oh, of course." Albus said absently, "Well I've other matters to attend. Neville Longbottom, for instance-"

Lucius cleared his throat.

"Er- oh yes, you may remain with your son- Poppy? Can you come here to assist Mr. Malfoy?" Albus quickly tacked on.

"I assure you, I can handle myself quite well, thank you." Lucius sneered, not having lost any of his verbal touch.

"Poppy!" Albus called just a little louder with a hint of panic. When the matron finally bustled out from her office, Albus
gave a placating smile that did not quite meet his eyes, and strode over to a bed surrounded by room dividers. (Poppy,
seeing that there was no reason for her to be there, returned to her office.)
Hasan kept the headmaster in his peripheral vision at all times, but allowed Malfoy Sr. to occupy his current attention. To
put it politely, the man looked terrible (as terrible as a Malfoy could look), and Hasan had to wonder why. Weren't the
Malfoy's rolling in Galleons? What could possibly vex a family so rich and powerful? Except, perhaps, the man was
worried about his son? Hmm.

"Mr. Castell." Lucius nodded curtly.

"Lord Malfoy." Hasan countered.

"Please, Narcissa insists that you call me Lucius." he bit out.

Hasan smiled lightly, "I suppose you may call me Hasan. After all, Draco has given me your family dagger."

"How could I forget?" Lucius said sardonically. "A Castell owning a Malfoy dagger..."

Hasan frowned: There was no reason for the man to hate him, Hasan, personally. Yet his tone suggested an overall
dislike towards the Castell name. Hasan couldn't help but see the parallel between Snape's irrational dislike towards
the Potter name, and wondered briefly if Altair had known this man during his time at Hogwarts. The idea had never
occurred to him, but now...didn't it make sense?

"Have you known another Castell?" Hasan asked bluntly, watching the man like a hawk.

Lucius seemed to hesitate, "I don't recall ever meeting another Castell." Lucius confessed bitterly, "Yet I am positive one
of them is haunting me now."

"Oh." What was there left to say?

"But you can tell your mentor-" Lucius continued with a slight edge,-"That I will do everything in my power for my family."
He looked sadly to Draco, "My family means the world to me."

Oddly, the threat smoothed away to genuine affection, and Hasan was left as confused as ever. Tell his mentor? Why
would Altair need to know anything? And if they had never met, why did it seem as if they had? Unless...Lucius was
lying?

And then Hasan remembered as if a spark shot through him: The Blood Book and the Dementors...the clarity was
startling, but why? Surely the conclusion was always this obvious to reach? L.A.M. was Lucius and A.D.C. was Altair- he
had known this.

So why did he feel as if Lucius was not lying? Why did it feel like Lucius was telling the truth and he had never met Altair
before in his life?

Was an ob liviate involved? Were there memories...the memories! Hasan blinked his dull jade eyes, desperate to
express his triumph in some way. Fortunately, Lucius was busy staring at his son to pay much attention to Hasan's facial
changes. Which was good, Hasan supposed, for he was in a state of confusion, and therefore of vulnerability. How was
he to corroborate his suspicions?

Were there more memories inside his head? And if Lucius had indeed been ob liviated by Altair, had Hasan been
ob liviated too? Or perhaps, would Hasan be ob liviated if he later asked Altair if his suspicions were true?

No. Direct confrontation was not an option. Just another secret to the load...just one more, Hasan thought dejectedly.

At his right, Draco gave a sudden gasp of breath and Lucius nearly sighed out in relief.

"Draco, Draco, Draco..." Lucius murmured warmly, gathering the boy up in his arms.

"Wha-?" Draco blurted, apparently too shocked for words. "Father? What are you-? Where am I? Wait, no! Get away! He
might still be inside m-!"

"Draco?" Lucius questioned, keeping his voice calm even as his muscles tensed for action.

But Hasan was faster, "Neville has saved us." (Or more specifically, Neville had saved him from suspicion.)

"Oh, I-!" Draco turned his head to Hasan, blond hair sticking out at odd angles. His silver eyes were positively bursting
with emotion, more feeling than he had ever shown. Joy, confusion, guilt, anger, remorse. "I'm- Hasan, I'm sorry! I'm so
sorry! I didn't mean-!"
Lucius looked bewilderedly between the friends, trying in vain to follow the unsaid story.

"All is done." Hasan said in a tone that suggested he had better be quiet. Draco in his hysteria, however, crumbled in
tears, muttering incoherently. Tom Riddle had been inside his head, controlling him. Using his mouth to give orders to
the Basilisk, poisoning his mind with thoughts of betrayal. Was he gone? Was Draco free? Or was Tom Riddle lying
dormant in his soul this very instant? Was it latent as it was in the diary? Waiting for the opportune moment to strike?

Lucius continued to hold his son, clearly puzzled. A Malfoy apologizing to a Castell? Clearly there was more to the story
than the letter suggested.

When Draco had finally regained some composure, he whispered, "I'm sorry I took the books...the diary."

Lucius stiffened, remembering a certain request from one Altair Castell. The diary. He shoved it from his mind,
determined to think of it later.

It was at that moment that the doors parted again, gently so that no sound escaped, letting in the Potions Master.

.oOo.

(1 Hour Previous)

Narcissa flicked her wand in the direction of the kitchen, causing the various pots and pans to start scrubbing
themselves with unnecessary vigor. She had just finished breakfast with her husband, a quiet affair, in which neither said
little more than the proper how do you do?

Lucius sat at the table, staring off into space with one hand riffling through his thin hair. He was becoming increasingly
quiet by the day, freezing her out, and shoving her off with her friends. Of course, she was always the one to create the
arrangements, but he had not once protested at her increasing absences. To say it was unusual was an
understatement. Though they did not share a bed, presenting a united front was a Malfoy priority, and lately, Lucius was
sorely neglecting it.

And why? Why did he freeze her out like this? Was he seeing another woman on the side? Was he simply falling out of
love? She had to know! It was her right! Why could he go dallying around when she was practically chained to the man
through marriage? Didn't she at least deserve to know who it was that stole his heart?

"Lucius?" she asked, eyes narrowing sharply. "Do you love me?"

Lucius was immediately shocked out of his reverie, even spilling his coffee onto the table. Narcissa spelled it away.

"Love you?" Lucius repeated slowly, not comprehending.

"Yes, Lucius! LOVE!" Narcissa screamed. "Or do you not know the meaning of love! Perhaps you have found it
somewhere else or forgotten it all together!"

Lucius' mouth worked vainly to form the words. "I- Narcissa- Ciss-!"

"No! I don't want to hear your excuses! It's fine alright? I see the owls! I notice how you don't look at me in that way
anymore and how you always hole yourself up in your room!-"

"CISSA!" Lucius yelled, relieved and panicked all at once. "I love you, I do! I love you!"

But strangely, it sounded wrong in his own ears...he had the most ludicrous dream the other night where he whispered
those three magic words in the ear of another. And now, repeating them to Narcissa rang so false and artificial. Narcissa
seemed to pick up on this as well, for her face scrunched up in grief.

"It's fine, you know! You've got an heir and what am I?" Narcissa cried, voice cracking, "I don't mind it! But you could at
least tell me who he is!"

"H-he?" Lucius wondered.

Soft locks, satin sheets, another b ody pressed up against his own...lungs b reathing as one.

"Oh- no- I-" Narcissa sobbed, "Oh! Just forget about it! I meant she! I meant she! Oh, but what does it matter? I saw the
owls! I know that Dobby's off helping your mistress!"

"Narcissa, please!" Lucius begged, "I didn't- I'm not seeing anyone!"
Narcissa quieted and shivered with grief.

"Don't lie to me." she whispered.

"And Dobby, he-" Lucius started as he realized that he had no good story for Dobby yet.

"I said DON'T LIE TO ME!" Narcissa bellowed. "I don't care! Just admit it! You don't love me anymore! You write love notes
to your mistress and she replies at midnight or when you think I have left!"

Lucius swallowed. He hadn't believed he had been so transparent. And what was worse? A mistress or Altair? Should
he tell her the truth? He hesitated and knew instantly that he could not. She didn't deserve this suffering; he could handle
Altair himself.

"Narcissa, please, I'm sorry-!" Lucius begged...just as a letter came zipping in from the window. Their eyes met and she
raised an eyebrow in disgust.

"I won't have my husband lying to me!" Narcissa shrieked. She reached for the letter, but Lucius was faster. He grasped
her small white wrist and lunged, just as she twisted around, blocking him with her body and reaching with her other
hand. The two scrambled over each other in vain attempts to capture the fluttering envelope, but neither succeeding in
subduing the other for long.

Finally, after much struggle, Lucius tore the envelope from the air, determined to burn it and request another, when it
came flying out of his hand! Narcissa smiled triumphantly, in a twisted sort of way, wand outstretched in front of her.
Lucius had not the time to draw his own wand to summon it back, before his wife had torn it open, and with it, his life. He
was a dead man! He was a dead man!

Surely she would hate him. Surely she would accuse him of keeping more secrets and not trusting her! Lucius was
done for! He watched her, as if in slow motion, extract the parchment and unfold it. He watched her sky blue irises dart
across the page and her tearstained face morph into an expression of horror. Lucius was damned. Damned. Damned...

"It's Draco."

Lucius' mind began to function again.

"It's Draco!" Narcissa repeated softly, tears welling in her eyes. "He's been hurt! Come, look! Oh, Draco! My poor baby!"

She proffered the letter with a shaking grip, biting back her moans of agony.

Tentatively, Lucius took the note and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Alb us Dumb ledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,

I am writing to inform you of a terrib le accident which has occurred late last night. Three students, Neville Longb ottom,
Draco Malfoy, and Hasan Castell were found stunned in the hallway early this morning. The cause is uncertain. All three
are currently resting in the Hospital Wing.

You are welcome to visit your child in the healing process,

Alb us Dumb ledore

Lucius was shaking now too. Hasan Castell had to have had a hand in this, and what about the Boy-Who-Lived? His
marriage! His child! Everything was crumbling...

A slim body pressed against his suddenly, tears dripping onto the shoulder of his cloak.

"Oh, Lucius! I'm so scared! What if he's hurt? I have to g-go and see him!"

"Cissa- I, Cissa, I love you." Lucius murmured. "I don't know what's gotten into me, but I assure you I'm not seeing
anyone." He took her white cheeks between his palms. "Cissa, look at me. I love you. Only you."

Narcissa wept into his good robes, holding him around the middle for dear life. She reached forward to give him a kiss,
when suddenly he jerked away from her, hissing as he clutched his forearm.

Her eyes widened. "Lucius? Lucius? Are you okay? What's wrong? It's- It can't be!"

Lucius' face screwed up in pain as he fell heavily into the kitchen chair, gritting his teeth for all it was worth.

"Oh! Ice! Ice! Dobby! Get ice!"

The little house-elf appeared sometime during his daze, and a cold pack of ice cubes was pressed to his arm. Pain, so
sharp and intense ripped through his veins, without any reason at all.

"Lucius! Are you alright! Say something! It's your mark- It's inflamed!"

Lucius cracked open an eyelid and glanced at his arm, where indeed the mark had turned black with a blue bruise
around it. His heart plunged below to the lowest pit of hell. It could not be. It could NOT be. But somehow...somehow...

"He's back." Lucius whispered hoarsely, "There's no other explanation. He's back."

"Oh!" Narcissa cried, head in hands.

"Oh! Poor Lucius and Cissa!" Dobby wailed, not sure what to do.

"I thought we were free. I thought it was over..." Lucius murmured to himself, breathing steadily as the pain went down. "I
am so glad you are not marked, Narcissa." he said tiredly. "Because then you'd have to suffer every much as me."

"Oh, Lucius! Don't! You don't deserve this! Draco doesn't deserve this! Oh, this is terrible!" Narcissa cried. "He'll go after
Draco- I know it! He'll try and gather as many as possible! Not my baby!"

Lucius cleared his throat uncomfortably. There was no way around it this time.

"Cissa...?" he ventured slowly. "I think we'd be lucky to even last that long."

"W-why?" she asked, blue eyes lifting to his. "Haven't we served him loyally? There would be no reason..."

"Cissa, I am truly sorry but I fear I must have replaced a valuable artifact"- or two, or three- "and despite my best
intentions I feel that he won't be so understanding."

"So that's it then." Narcissa whispered. "That's it- we're dead. We're dead. Oh, no, don't blame yourself, Lucius. We knew
either path was dangerous. Just a slip, ill-intentioned or not, could have ended any one of us. It just happens to be now."

Lucius swallowed down his guilt. He had condemned his family, hadn't he? There was nothing they could do
now...except...maybe?

"I'll go to Dumbledore."

"W-what?"

"I'll ask Dumbledore for his protection- Merlin knows it's saved Snape's hide all these years." he swallowed again. "It's
the only way to save us all."

Narcissa nodded solemnly. "I think...I think that's all we can do..." A hand shot out to grasp his arm as he made to move
towards the door. "You mean, right now?"

Lucius nodded. "It wouldn't help Draco's recovery any if he saw his mother in tears."

"Oh, I nearly forgot..." she smiled pitifully. "Yes, I see now. Go talk to Dumbledore and make sure our Dragon's
alright...and perhaps that Hasan Castell. He is family, you know."

Lucius' mouth quirked up in a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Narcissa. With a little help, I'm sure we'll get through this."

He shook off her hand gently and bent down to kiss her on the lips.

"We'll get through this, I promise."

With that, he grabbed his wand and strode out the door, leaving behind his hopeful wife, much too good for him. He
walked down the lane, passing bright white peacocks, and apparated just past the front gate.

Narcissa watched him leave, teary eyes following his every move. Her life was on the scales. Could nothing be simple?

She sighed deeply and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief Dobby had given her.

"It's going to be alright." Dobby said, shuffling his sock covered feet, before snapping his fingers and vanishing.

And just at that moment...a tiny black owl came rapping at her door.

.oOo.

Lucius arrived somewhere outside the Forbidden Forest, face marred by distress, heart thumping wearily. Yet he still
found it in him to glare at some thestrals who were creeping along the purlieus, causing them to snort their great
skeletal noses and retreat into the darkness. It did not matter that tears stained his robes or that he was all but running
to the castle; all that mattered was that he see Dumbledore and see Draco. So little time...faster! Faster! Malfoy pride flew
out the door.

He wondered absently if Severus could help him gain the old coot's favor. Perhaps there was a trick to it? Did he have to
beg? Lucius hoped not- but what choice did he have? He continued to run.

By the time his best shoes had struck actual stone, he was out of breath and desperately trying to retain whatever dignity
he had left. The castle doors were tall, so extremely tall, and nostalgia punched him in the gut: Remember when you
were a child? Do you remember when everything was simple?

Well, the answer was: No, I bloody hell do not because Altair messed with my head!

He sighed and pushed open the doors, though he was positive that they had opened of their own accord. He knew deep
down that Hogwarts was welcoming him home, as she did all her wayward children. Did he feel touched? Warmed?
There was no time for thought.

Lucius prowled through the empty halls, wondering if all the children had some sort of holiday he did not know about. Or
maybe they had sensed his presence and ran to the darkest crevices of their rooms, terrified and not knowing why. He
did not notice when he had reached the headmaster's office until he was face to face with the stout old gargoyle. Oh!
Merlin! Just great! Lovely!

"Acid pops! Chocolate frogs! Cockroach clusters!" There were no words to express how silly he felt. He was crying
nonsense to the wind. "Lemon drops! Oh for the love of-"

"I hope I'm not too terribly late, am I?" a grandfatherly voice asked from behind. Lucius whipped around: There was
Dumbledore in all his blue robed glory, looking for all the world as if he had just come back from a relaxing stroll of daisy
smelling.

"I-Excuse me." Lucius muttered quietly, relieved and so embarrassed.

Dumbledore just stared down at him with a kind smile. "No, excuse me. The password is: Lacrimosa."

Lucius nodded numbly as the gargoyle hopped aside and the staircase twirled upwards, leading to a type of magical
sanctuary.

"Come in, my boy. Follow me." Albus said warmly, striding past Malfoy and starting up the stairs. "I had a feeling you
would come."

Oh...Lucius followed as bid albeit uncomfortably, emerging into the office with caution. No matter what his intentions, he
was still technically in enemy territory, and he, an enemy of his host. He would have to tread carefully, very carefully. The
old man leaned against his desk and cocked his head, eyes twinkling expectantly.

Lucius swallowed. How in Salazar's name had Severus started this? Should he drop down and beg? No! Malfoy's did
not beg! What then? He was already humiliated enough! What then?

"How did you know?" Lucius finally asked, giving an involuntary shake of his left arm.

Albus eyed it with pity. "I? I was informed by Professor Snape. He has remarkable foresight."

"So he really is a spy for the light." Lucius murmured. "I've had my doubts the same as everybody else, but now I see...I
need your help." he blurted.

Albus appeared unfazed. "Why can't you go to your Master for help? I'm sure he would oblige his loyal followers."

Lucius ground his teeth. Was the man truly this thick? The Dark Lord did not know the meaning of 'Loyal' and he certainly
didn't 'oblige'.

"He does not give favors." Lucius bit out. "I need help to protect my family. My family, Dumbledore! Surely you would not
deny a father protection for his family!"

The old wizard stroked his long white beard and shook his head. "If only it were that simple." He raised his ice blue eyes
and looked straight into Malfoy's pale face. "I already have Severus. Why would I need another spy? And besides,
Voldemort cannot truly be back, can he? As his right hand man, surely you would have attended to him by now."

Lucius took a step forward, enraged and desperate beyond belief. "Albus! I am begging you! I have gold! You can have it
all! I'll take care of myself! Just hide them, if nothing else, if-if anything at all, please just protect my wife and son!"

There was that damnable twinkle, brightly flickering behind pale eyes. Albus suddenly turned to his phoenix, a bird
Lucius swore was not there before, and began to trill in high musical pitches.

Oh, Merlin! The man was barmy! He was asking a lunatic! They were dead! Lucius was a dead man and he had
condemned everyone along with him!

The trilling continued for another five minutes, ending in a great fluttering of red wings. The phoenix fixed him with a
beady stare.

"Lucius Malfoy, do I have your word that you will do all in your power to stop Voldemort no matter the cost?"

Lucius froze. Did that mean-? Dumbledore was serious. To stop Voldemort no matter the cost...What would he give to
see his wife and son live free?

"I thought you had no need for another spy." Lucius couldn't help but reply bitterly.

Albus tilted his head. "No, no we don't. But we could certainly use another Order member. I happen to remember a
certain House-elf named Dobby who was quite adamant that you had the very best insight into the Dark Lord's mentality.
I can think of a number of ways in which this information can be put to good use."

Lucius gaped. Dobby had been...here? Petitioning for him? Wait...why didn't he just ask Dobby to apparate him? He
shoved his annoyance beneath his hope.

"I know certain things that even Severus doesn't know." Which was partly true, seeing as Altair had apparently removed
those memories.

"Oh, I'm sure of it." Dumbledore said jovially. "Now do we have a deal, Mr. Malfoy?"

"My word for my family's protection?"

"Yes." Dumbledore beamed. "That's all I ask."

There wasn't a choice. "Then I give you my word."

Albus seemed to sigh out in relief, and a breath Lucius had not been aware he had been holding was released.

"Good. Very good. I shall introduce you at the next Order Meeting...although I'm not sure how some people will take the
news. People still haven't truly gotten over Severus."

Lucius nodded, feeling light in the head. Even when he sided with the Light, he was unwelcomed. Peace never did seem
to run in the Malfoy family. Why Draco was-

"My son?" Lucius asked faintly, suddenly remembering the primary reason for his visit. "What happened?"

"Well, that seems to be the problem, doesn't it?" Albus replied pleasantly, started to pace across the great room, blue
robes trailing behind him.

"You mean you don't know?" Lucius repeated in disbelief, having that lovely experience of realizing something very
obvious. If Albus was unable to even protect those inside the castle, then how in hell was he going to protect his family?
"Oh, I'm sure I know." Albus said cryptically, "But your guess is as good as mine as to how it came to be. Two students
found Neville, Mr. Castell and your son all stunned outside the girl's bathroom, with no evidence but bloody clothes, the
Sorting hat, and a most peculiar diary."

Lucius swallowed.

"Yes, it was most unusual with no ink whatsoever. I wonder who could've given it to them." His frosty eyes blinked away
tears. "To think I could have lost him...Well, let's go down, shall we?"

.oOo.

Narcissa stared. There was a black owl rapping at her door. An owl with a letter. Uncontainable fury rose within her. That
bastard had lied! Had LIED! A vase shattered nearby, sending shards of glass and water everywhere. There was a
lover...there were owls, she had not imagined them. Without hesitating, she let the poor little creature inside, where it
flapped its merry way inside her home. It held but a single letter, a scrolled up piece of parchment with a ruby red ribbon
tied in a bow. She felt like Pandora, her hands touching what her eyes did not yet know. But there was no thought in her
movements as the ribbon fluttered to the floor.

Was it someone she knew? Or perhaps some foreign witch he had met by some dubious means? How far along was
their relationship? Did they mention her? Was she a secret? Or perhaps "that other woman"? Did she dare break her
own heart? There were no thoughts.

Her nimble fingers began to carefully unwrap the message, her heart pounding in her throat. It seemed her world had
gone topsy-turvy: first Draco, then the Dark Lord, and now Lucius. There wasn't any anchor she could grasp anymore.
What was normal? What was stable?

Her sky blue eyes dashed across the page, freezing at the top as a distressed whine rose in her throat.

"Narcissa,"

There at the top was her name, written in elegant script with no indication of the letter being for anyone else. She frowned
at this new puzzle, her brows furrowing on her pale face as she glanced quickly towards the door. The timing had been
perfect...was someone watching her right now? Or was it simply a coincidence?

She shivered involuntarily and read:

"Narcissa,

My deepest apologies for all you have suffered b ecause of me. I sense a growing distance b etween you and your
husb and, and yet, the distance is only on the part of one and not the other. Narcissa, you are lovely. Why would he ever
seek a mistress? These letters? His correspondent? They are from me and I assure you, I will never capture your
husb and's heart.

But down to b usiness.

I understand the Dark Lord is not as vanquished as he first appeared. I also understand that Draco was harmed last night
b y an artifact that once b elonged to the Dark Lord. If you are every b it as intelligent as you are b eautiful, you will
understand why some things must b e done and done in secret. This is why I ask you to not mention this to your husb and.
He has his secrets, you will have yours, and in the end? Draco will live in a world free of the sufferings your husb and must
endure.

This artifact I have mentioned is only one in a series of seven. If you wish to protect all that you hold dear, you will retrieve
another one of these ob jects so that I may destroy it. I request this of you specifically b ecause there is an ob ject sitting,
this very moment, in the Vault of your sister. It is Hufflepuff's Cup, and it will b e found in the Lestrange Vault, only
accessib le to those who share the family's b lood, whether it is the wife's side or the husb and's. You see now why I ask this
only of you.

I would suggest a disguise, a very polite gob lin named Griphook, and a b ag so that you may send it off with Raven as
soon as the cup is acquired.

I wish you the b est of luck,

Altair D.C."

Narcissa was left frozen for several moments. Who in the world was Altair D.C.? And why had he just decided to reveal
himself now? What secrets did Lucius keep for him? What were these other artifacts? She remembered vaguely now
that the Dark Lord had given her husband a package for safe keeping, and under no circumstances was he to see harm
to it. So how had it gotten to Hogwarts? To Draco?

But above all, Narcissa was relieved. Lucius had spent hours writing to a man? She laughed freely- at least she had no
competition to worry about. In fact, the man almost seemed concerned about the welfare of her marriage. And why would
that be? She couldn't recall meeting an Altair in her life! Maybe during her time at Hogwarts? She thought back, but
nothing came to mind but a hazy wall. It had been so many years, and surely she would have remembered such an
interesting name? Narcissa shook her head. No, she had never met this man before in her life...so then why did she feel
as if she owed this man?

There was no sense to it. She would do as he said only to protect her family. It was no secret, even within the family, that
Bellatrix was more than a little insane. Now that Narcissa's loyalties were decided, it was plain to see how twisted the
Dark side had become. If something dangerous was lurking in the Lestrange vault, then Narcissa would be more than
happy to get it. Besides, what were the chances that her imprisoned sister or brother-in-law would gain amnesty and
decide to fetch that exact artifact from the Wizarding Bank?

Decided, Narcissa cast a quick charm on herself to appear as a middle-aged woman with black and white hair (instead
of her golden blonde) before summoning her cloak. She fixed the vase as an afterthought, and let the little owl creep into
her pocket. With a faint pop, Narcissa was gone, and not one second later did she rematerialize outside the steps of
Gringotts.

She walked in, feeling increasingly self-conscious, though it was technically legal for her to be doing this.

"Name?" Griphook asked roughly, as she stepped up to the desk. He was weighing each individual ruby on a scale,
paying more attention to the numbers and his report than the woman in front of him.

"Narcissa Malfoy." she whispered, swallowing uncomfortably.

"To which Malfoy Vault would you like to-?" Griphook asked, rubbing at the red surface with a sense of ennui.

"I'd like to make a withdrawal from one of my sister's- Vault 989."

Something in the goblin's face clicked, for he seemed to chuckle under his breath. His beady black eyes snapped up to
hers as he reached for something in the drawer.

"Of course. Of course." he said. "And if I could have identification?"

Nodding, Narcissa extracted her wand and handed it to the creature. The goblin's nails barely touched the stick, feeling
repulsed and envious of the wand all at once. After studying it for about the length of time he had studied the rubies, he
handed it back over the desk.

"Right this way, Mrs. Malfoy. I always knew it was a matter of time."

Unable to make sense of these words, Narcissa nodded and followed the goblin down to the carts.

.oOo.

"My Lord!" Bellatrix crooned, soft clean hair falling around her shoulders. She was garbed in a deep green dress with a
black cloak that covered most of her frail body. It had been but two mere hours since the alarms had sounded through
the stone halls of Azkaban, when the incompetent guards had rushed to discover seven of the highest profile prisoners
had escaped...now, the Death Eaters were recovering in the Lestrange Manor, all kneeling before the Dark Lord on a
stone floor. "It has been so long! But I never once believed you had been vanquished, my Lord! No, never you!" The
woman flung herself by his feet, twisted joy coming out in uncontrollable giggles.

Voldemort's lips quirked up in a sinister smile as his tiny hand continued to stroke his snake, Nagini.

"Is that so?" he asked. "Have all of you displayed the same faith as Bellatrix? Or have you forgotten about me in your
hours of solitude? Had you not been imprisoned, would you have sought me out? Or perhaps, like the Malfoys, would
you have moved on and tried to carve out a future for yourself?"

The Death Eaters shuddered, not able to meet their Master's scrutinizing gaze.

"I would have, my Lord!" Barty Crouch Jr. cried out. "I would have come if not for my mother..."
"Your mother? Do elaborate." Voldemort drawled, tilting his great ugly head on his frail shoulders.

"She had a terminal disease and would have switched places with me. But my father refused and the next thing I heard
was that she died."

The Dark Lord nodded thoughtfully, before hissing something to Nagini, who slithered down from her perch to mingle
among his servants. They shivered as she passed, unable to help themselves.

"I will reward you all, as I reward all my loyal followers. All in good time...but now we must focus our energy into gathering
forces."

Bellatrix, Junior, Dolohov, Rookwood, Mulciber, Rodolphus, and Rabastan all nodded their immediate concurrence.

"Good. Now I must speak with Bellatrix alone."

Eager to be out of the thing's presence, the wizards apparated from the premises, even Rodolphus who was not entirely
sure how he felt about this new Dark Lord. Voldemort was no longer tall, handsome, or elegant- now he was nothing
more than a glorified fetus, disgusting to even look at...but Rodolphus was happy to be out of Azkaban, and he intended
to survive for just a bit longer.

Alone in the room, Bellatrix crawled up to her master, face the picture of lovesick concern.

"My lord?" Bellatrix asked sweetly, kneeling down in front of the leather armchair that acted as his thrown.

The Dark Lord appraised her silently, waiting for Nagini to wrap herself around his chair again.

"I have a task for you, Bellatrix, that has to do with a certain artifact I had entrusted to you before my, ah, supposed
downfall." he said slowly, watching as her face lit up.

"Anything!" she panted. "Anything at all!"

"I need you to retrieve it for me...just to be sure that your loyalties are where you say."

"Oh yes! I will, my Lord! Right away!"

Voldemort stroked Nagini's scales with feather light touches, knowing that Bellatrix wanted nothing more than to switch
places with his snake.

"You have ten minutes, Bellatrix. Do not disappoint."

A/N: Narcissa knows Altair. Lucius has problems. Bellatrix is out of Azkaban! (So is Barty Crouch Jr.) Horcrux hunting!
Turncoat-ing! What will happen? WHO WILL DO WHAT? The suspense mounts...

Also, I'm behind on thank you notes...sorry. It's only 8pm here, but I'm tired as all get out...Please review and make my
day!

Next up:

Chapter 21: Lilies (Be very excited! It's my birthday and the plot simply explodes in the most amazing way!)
*Chapter 21*: Lilies
A/N: Before we start, I'd like to say you're in for a wild ride. Read slowly and please enjoy! And many of you have
expressed interest in the sisters confronting each other. I am so sorry *runs and hides* this was already written! I had no
idea you guys would have wanted that, but hm, well maybe in the future there will be something of that.

A/N2: Like before, please be very careful with the times! I am extremely sorry for the confusing mess that is my writing. I
wrote this in a very weird order because new ideas kept flooding my mind and I needed things to fit inside one another
and...it got pretty complicated. That being said, please read, review, and ENJOY.

A/N3: And it's my BIRTHDAY!- give or take a few days. I mean, I'm adopted so it's more of a guesstimation. But
anyway...please REVIEW! They make me so happy and I've got an awful cold right now. I've got a nose redder than
Rudolph's and I am not a happy camper about this at all. And there's a VOTE at the end!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 21: Lilies

Griphook gestured for Narcissa to enter, an amused smile playing on his lips. Goblins seldom delved into the affairs of
wizards, but Griphook was certainly aware of them, and took particular joy in doing nothing at all.

Narcissa stepped carefully into the room, having been warned that there was a duplication spell on anything she
touched. Mounds of gold intermixed between illegal artifacts, precious family heirlooms, and various other things were
piled to the ceiling of one of the deepest vaults.

"Hufflepuff's cup..." Narcissa murmured, spotting it amid a thin tower of jewels. She stepped carefully around the
treasure, walking as close as she could to the cup. "I don't suppose Accio works down here..." she muttered bitterly.

Griphook laughed from the door.

"Climbing is the easiest way."

Narcissa tried not to glare at the creature, for she knew that as soon as she touched something, everything would
multiply and scorch her body. But it was nothing a little potion couldn't fix. Firming her resolve, she leapt into the air,
grabbing wildly at the tower than began to crumble into millions of fake coins and jewels. She could only imagine how
foolish the goblin thought her.

She grunted with the effort of staying afloat. It was like grabbing a fistful of sanding and praying that it could hoist you up.
The fake treasure burned her bare arms, legs, and face as things went flying. Eventually, her hands clasped the handles
of the cup, and this too began to multiply.

"Ahh!" She kept a firm hold on the real cup, sensing a sort of power run up her arm at the touch. What was this? Why had
the Dark Lord entrusted such a dangerous object to her sister and not to her? Well, there were seven- perhaps they were
scattered everywhere. A dread settled over her heart- though she knew not why, and she leapt for all it was worth, down to
the blazing pit of gold, before scampering out the door.

Her body ached from the burns, and she cradled the cup to her chest. The duplication spell had worn off as she exited
the vault, and Griphook shut the door behind her.

"Well done! Well done!" he cried. "Would you like a bag, perhaps?"

Narcissa glared at him, "Yes, please." she hissed, angry that he found such joy in her suffering.

The two clambered back into the cart, where Griphook reached beneath the seat and pulled out a small woven sack. As
the ride began to the surface, Narcissa secured the cup inside of it, and spelled it tied onto the owl.

Oh, what she did for strangers...she rubbed at her arm, determined to ask Severus for a burn balm as soon as he
stopped by.

She thanked the goblin, who was still chuckling under his breath, and strode out into the lobby feeling triumphant. Finally,
she was able to help her family, even if her part was never known.

From somewhere on her right, a deep honeyed voice spoke to a preoccupied goblin. This speaker was hidden beneath
a heavy black cloak, yet her face was imprinted into Narcissa's mind. Black hair, full lips, heavy lids.

"Vault 989."

.oOo.

Severus Snape approached the Hospital Wing like a ghost or some other creature of the night. His eyes were a burning
obsidian and his composure was altogether decomposed. There were many things pressing on his mind, and as
immaculate as he liked to think himself, he knew that even he could not hope to organize the mess that was his life.

Perhaps it was when he woke up previously that day to the sound of panicked knocking...

Now, Severus didn't like to overestimate his reputation, but he was pretty sure only a dunderhead would dare to wake the
Potions Master at this early hour. Even so, he dragged himself out of bed, grabbed a long black robe (the teaching kind,
not a bathrobe) and thrust open the door to bring doom around the ears of whoever it was that stood outside. A foolish
Gryffindor, out pranking? A stupid Hufflepuff who had lost his way? An indignant Ravenclaw, ready to spit fire because of a
bad grade?

"What?" Severus growled, before realizing that there were two of them, each from a different house. His heart froze
midbeat. Without really knowing it he knew at once that it was about Hasan. Hadn't the same thing happened last year?

"Professor Snape!" Theo urged. "You have to come, quick!"

"It's Draco, professor. Draco, Neville, and Hasan! They're unconscious and—" Hermione began to shout hysterically. He
noticed that her usually bushy hair was curled in soft waves, not exactly the typical bed head. In fact, what where Theo
and Hermione doing out this early anyway?

"Where are they?" Snape demanded, growing pale. It was not only Hasan, but his own godson, and the supposed boy-
who-lived. The three people who were to avoid trouble at all costs, and the three most likely to find it.

"They're outside the girl's bathroom, sir!" Hermione shouted, licking her lips nervously.

"Get Madame Pomfrey!" Snape said, fairly running to the rescue. Merlin, could he never get a break? Upon arriving, the
most peculiar sight met him. Hasan Castell, Draco Malfoy, and Neville Longbottom lay haphazardly on the castle floor. In
Neville's hand was a wand and...a book with a gaping hole that appeared to have been started from acid. Moving closer,
he could just make out the title, "Tom Marvolo Riddle." he breathed.

Eerie. There was no other way to describe it. Neville's shirt had some clean rips through it, as though someone had
sliced his robes with a cutting spell, and Draco's robes seemed soaked with blood, or some other dark substance.
Gazing upon the third, he could not detect any abnormalities, which of course put Hasan under the most scrutiny. Why
were they here? Why were they together? Had they fought? Against what? And how was a book of Voldemort's somehow
involved?

Perhaps if he were not as tired he would have realized what the diary was right on the spot. But as it was, he was tired,
and he had quite enough to be thinking about. Just as he reached out to pluck the book from Neville's limp grasp, the
headmaster and Madame Pomfrey turned the corner.

"Oh dear!" Poppy lamented, clutching at her nightgown.

Severus snatched his hand back, but Albus had already seen.

"What is that, Severus?" Albus asked suspiciously, even as he summoned it.

"I'm sure I don't know." Snape sighed tiredly. "But it appears to have been destroyed."

"What happened?" Poppy gasped, completely oblivious to them. She conjured some stretchers and levitated each boy
onto one. "What were they doing out here past curfew? And I believe two of them are from your own house, Severus."

"Two students from Gryffindor were also up and about." Snape reminded her shrewdly. Apart from being irked about
house prejudices, he had no intention of telling Dumbledore of his previous whereabouts anytime soon.

Poppy clicked her tongue and bustled away, levitating the stretchers behind her. Severus was about to follow when
Dumbledore shook his head.

"I think it is best to get the full story in the morning." he said. "I just can't believe how I keep failing. No, don't comfort me. I
know I'm missing something, but I just can't see it. Perhaps we are all tired...I'll write to their parents in the morning.
Good night, Severus."

The headmaster seemed tired, remorseful even. But there was a glint in his eye that caused Severus to doubt, and it did
not go unnoticed when the headmaster slipped the book of Tom Marvolo Riddle into his cloak pocket. Voldemort,
Severus remembered absently. The b ook b elonged to Voldemort...

He didn't remember when he went back to bed, only that he knew he did, and that he woke for the second time that
morning with pain running through his arm. He didn't need to glance down to see that his Dark Mark was bright red and
looked like hell. Sure, he had known since last year that Voldemort was back, but the diary and now this? Severus
groaned. Today was not his day.

But perhaps the thing most prominent thing in his mind, (if he had to choose), would be that Hasan Castell was Harry
Bloody Potter.

Hasan Castell, the prodigal son of the idiot Altair, was the bloody savior of the Wizarding world, which was not even to
mention the son of Lily Evans and that bastard James Potter! To be extremely honest, the emotion residing in Snape's
heart was fear. How would he handle this situation? Who could he tell? What was he to do? And then of course, Harry
Potter's disappearance smoothed over the resentment he had felt towards James Potter through some form of pity. So
what Snape really feared when it came down to it, was NOT being able to hate Hasan Castell.

How funny he should fear something as trifle and nonsensical as not hating! Perhaps he was just horrified at the
prospect of what Dumbledore would say or how Minerva would act. Why, they would probably have a heart attack and
then have him carted off to St. Mungo's for mental instability. No thank you! Now that Voldemort was back, Potter
resurfacing was a blessing. Hadn't the poor boy proven himself capable of eradicating the madman thrice already? Once
as a baby, twice as a boy? If anything, Snape should be rejoicing, but now, as he stood here in the doorway, all he could
think of was Fuck and Mercy.

For not only was Hasan Castell looking straight at him with his dead jade eyes despite his best efforts not to be noticed,
but Lucius Malfoy and his son were awake and present as well.

How could he hope to speak of Altair with Hasan if the Malfoy Lord was present as well? Snape stiffened in his
otherwise smooth stride, trying in vain to unlock his jaw, a rather bothersome habit. It appeared that the three had been
conversing with one another, but about what? What interest did Lucius have in Hasan? If Lucius suspected any more
about the boy...

"Ah, Severus," Lucius greeted heavily. "How are you, my friend?"

Ignoring those jade eyes the best he could, Snape replied, "Fine, Lucius. Fine as always," What a lie, "And you?"

"Fine, as well."

As they were talking, Hasan noticed something peculiar about the way Draco reacted. Draco almost appeared to be
resentful of his godfather, an emotion that Hasan had never seen directed at Snape at least. He seemed to shrink back,
twisting the sheets unconsciously between his fingers, as he gazed at the Potions Master. What had happened? Was it
as Hasan expected? That Snape had asked Draco for his books and this had started it all-wait! If that were true then why
was it that Snape didn't open the chamber? Unless, perhaps, Snape was only after his Lord of the Rings books and
Draco took the diary for himself...but why would Snape want those books? His head started pounding. He was over
thinking things...again. With a sigh, he returned his attention to the conversation at hand.

"Snape." Draco said coolly, causing his father to raise a slight eyebrow.

"Draco." Severus returned lightly. "Mr. Castell." He added, nodding in the boy's direction.

"Professor Snape." Hasan replied pleasantly enough.

"Well, now that introductions are out of the way, perhaps you could tell us what happened, Severus. Dumbledore's been
no help in that regard."

"I would imagine." Severus sighed. "I know only how I found them. Maybe Draco or Mr. Castell would be so kind as to
enlighten us about the rest?"

Eyes fell expectantly on Draco who only flushed and looked desperately at Hasan.

"I-I was possessed by the Dark Lord."

"The Dark Lord?" Snape repeated in surprise.

Draco nodded numbly. "I believed him when he said that there was something to show me. I- I let him!"

"Draco, the Dark Lord does not ask." Lucius swooped in comfortingly. "He takes and twists situations around so that you
have to live with the guilt of his sins all your life."

Severus blinked, startled. Had Lucius turned coat?

"But I don't think you understand!" Draco protested feebly. "I said yes. He-" he gulped, "-We were writing..."

Snape paled. Was the Diary they found more than a mere artifact? Was it one of them- a horcrux? But it was found
destroyed with a gaping, sizzling hole down the center, and if Draco had been lured by it before the incident
then...someone in the chamber had had to have destroyed it. His black eyes flickered momentarily to Hasan who sat
thoughtfully on the hospital bed.

"Draco," Hasan said quietly, "I said I forgave you." He didn't want Lucius to know that he had taken the diary in the first
place.

"But I still did it and I'm- oh, gods, Hasan, I'm so sorry." Draco sighed.

"Perhaps you should take a Calming Draught. Severus?" Lucius asked.

Snape nodded, extracting a glass vial from his cloak.

"Drink this." he said, handing the boy the potion.

Draco looked dubiously at it as he uncorked the vial, before downing it in one go. Hasan bit his lip as the smell of
another potion filled his nose but he couldn't dwell on this for long as Lucius doubled over in pain, grasping his arm with
a hiss.

"Please excuse me." Lucius said hoarsely, but as he went to say goodbye to Draco, he noticed that the boy was out cold.
He shot Severus an inscrutable look before fairly running out of the infirmary.

"That wasn't a Calming Draught." Hasan spoke suddenly. "Why?"

Severus looked him straight in the eyes, trying to picture James' face around it. He couldn't. "So that we could talk, come."
Snape gestured towards the door and the two were off down the hall, arriving at an abandoned classroom in minutes.
Snape cast privacy spells around the room before fixing Hasan with a very rigid stare. The man looked more tired than
Hasan remembered and more than a little stressed.

"Tell me," Snape said lowly, "Are you wearing a glamour, Mr. Potter?"

"A...glamour?" Hasan repeated, feeling his entire soul constrict.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, a glamour. A disguise if you will." Severus whispered, taking a step forward.

"I don't know what you mean." Hasan denied shakily. His breath was coming out shallow and he swallowed. No! No! No!
Luna knew, but who would believe her? But if Snape knew...if Snape knew then Dumbledore would know and then what?
He'd be labelled as Dumbledore's golden boy and reeled in just like Neville. His façade would shatter. His life would
shatter. Hasan Castell would die. "And why are you calling me Mr. Potter? I'm just Hasan!"

"I don't believe you!" Snape snarled and wrenched into the boy's mind with ferocity. Teachers were not to use Legilimency
on students at all costs, but Potter was an exception. There was no room for doubt anymore, he had to know. He
expected a simple answer. A word of true or false. What he was not expecting was to be smacked into a memory so
utterly foreign that his own mind reeled from the impact.

A younger Altair Castell sat cross legged on a b ed that Severus identified as Lucius'. The b lond aristocrat was not far off,
however, as he was standing in the chamb er with a peculiar b lack b ook in his hands. It appeared to b e handwritten, and
the ink stains on their hands seemed to indicate that Altair and Lucius had written it. But what was it and why? For the life
of him, Severus could not imagine anything the two had in common.

"You know we'll have to hide it." Lucius spoke evenly, b reaking the silence. "We can place it in the Malfoy vault or
disguise it here."

Altair shook his head. "No. I'll take it."

"You know he'll kill us b oth if he finds it." Lucius said again. He turned the b ook over in his hands.

Altair shrugged. "You know it's only a matter of time b efore he figures out I heard him."

The tension in the memory was so thick Severus even felt uneasy.

"I wish you hadn't."

"But I did. Look, Lucius." Altair sighed. "You don't need to go through this. You haven't done anything wrong. You come
from an old pureb lood family and you've got a chance to survive. Go marry that Black from school, have an heir, b e free."

"Touching." Lucius sneered, "But what would life b e without you? I'm coming with. We already have the locket, the diary,
and know the location of the cup. All we need to do is pub lish this and destroy the items."

Altair nodded solemnly. "As soon as you pub lish it, your head will b e wanted too. He'll want to know who's responsib le for
his drop in numb ers. I can't allow that."

"Then how do you propose we take down the Dark Lord?"

"With b oth of us alive."

Altair turned slowly to face the b londe. His eyes were b loodshot and his wand was in his hands. It took Malfoy a minute to
register the change.

"Wait, Altair! No-!" he said, stepping forward.

"Stupefy."

The b londe crumpled to the ground. The air was still. Altair got up slowly and kneeled b eside him, taking the b ook from
his nonexistent grasp and b rushing b ack his b lond hair in a tender sort of way. He walked around the room, summoning
his own possessions from various drawers, almost as if he lived there. After pocketing the locket, he took out a thin b lue
phial and his wand. Severus held his b reath. The wand touched Lucius' temple, and pulling away, held a wispy memory.
"Oh, Lucius. I hope you'll forgive me." Time passed. The phial filled. "It was the only way."

The memory ceased with Lucius b eing laid gently on the b ed.

Severus found himself staring into dull green eyes. He blinked and found that his eyes were moist. He expected the boy
to start screaming, protesting that he had unjustly ripped his way through his mind, but...nothing came. The boy was as
pale as he.

"What was that?" Snape finally demanded, sinking onto the nearest desk.

"I don't know." the boy replied nervously. "I- Was that Mr. Malfoy?"

"A young one, yes."

"Then why did he tell me he never met another Castell?"

"Perhaps because you aren't a Castell, now are you, Harry?"

"It's Hasan." he said shortly. "And I don't think Mr. Malfoy was lying."

Snape sighed—he'd work the Potter thing out later. Right now, he had to know what the hell was going on.

"A simple memory charm—" Snape said impatiently with a wave of his hand.

"B-but, I thought it was only the Blo-" Hasan suddenly flushed, not wanting to mention the Black Blood Book. "I didn't think
he had erased every single memory of himself." he murmured.

"When one is running from the Dark Lord, loose ends are best tied." Severus told him, (secretly impressed that Altair had
thought as much.) But why should Harry Potter of all people have these memories...? That was the real mystery. "Have
you ever remembered anything like that happening before?"

Hasan bit his lip and placed his hands behind his back, gripping another desk for support.

"Twice. Whenever I go near dementors I remember more of the...other memories. Are they real, professor? Am I just
imagining these things? Do you think that the dagger transferred some memories over to me?"

Dagger? Snape thought. As in, the Malfoy dagger? He vaguely remembered something about it, and filed it away for later.

"Hasan, do you remember which form your patronus took?" Severus began slowly.

The boy gave him an odd look as if to say, what did this have to do with anything.

"A peacock," he answered slowly.

"And did you think that perhaps it didn't fit you?"

Hasan shrugged. This was too weird. "What are you trying to say?" he asked with an edge.

"I think..." Severus took a calming breath, "I think that Lucius' memories are trapped inside your mind."

Hasan stopped breathing for a minute. His suspicions were confirmed then. He had been wondering all year, but now it
was obvious. The Blood Book was the cause of all of this, he thought bitterly. It was all about Voldemort in the end, wasn't
it? So then who was he? Was he Harry Potter? Savior of the Wizarding World? A child? A warrior? Altair's only son? Or
maybe he was just a tool, a worthless vessel fit for EVERYONE to use. When had Altair done this to him? Why had Altair
done this to him?

"What am I?" Hasan asked with suppressed rage. "Am I just a tool for you? You go tearing through my mind to solidify
your place in the Light! Altair only adopted me to use as a glorified pensieve! Draco only became my friend to spy on me!
And Dumbledore! Do you see how he treats Neville? Imagine once he learns of who I am! Neville isn't the same
anymore! The attention is getting to his head and it's all Dumbledore's fault! But I suppose my life doesn't matter
because as soon as Voldemort knows where I am, because we've already met, I don't even stand a chance! He'll just
Avada me and all my problems will end like that!" Hasan's face was flushed, his chest was heaving, and sometime
during his speech, he had gotten his wand and now gripped it tightly in front of him. Severus was scared—the boy was
unpredictable, and worse, the boy made perfect sense. "All I want," Hasan cried. "Is to be me. I don't bloody want to be
used anymore!"

"Hasan-!"

But before either of them could move, Hasan was writhing on the ground. Pain like scalding knives sliced Hasan's
forehead open. He was bleeding.

Severus watched in horror as the boy shuddered and gasped from the effects of the cruciatus, but that wasn't possible!
Unless...he watched the famous scar become outlined in blood, though the glamour-or whatever it was-held strong.
Dumbledore was right. There was a stronger connection between Harry Potter and Voldemort that no one would
understand.

He hadn't realized the full implications of Lucius' leave just prior, but now it made sense. The Dark Lord had returned and
had enough strength to risk summoning Lucius, not to mention what he was doing to Hasan so many miles away. It was
only a matter of time before Severus himself was Called...

As he stared down at the suffering body before him, all he could think of was how Lucius?

-VISION START-

Hasan's eyes were blazing. It was a shame that his eyes were also shut so no one could see them. But if they could,
they would have seen molten emerald. His entire body shook, but whether it was from pain or power, he didn't know.
These emotions...they were all too much. He tried to tell himself that they were just chemical reactions in his brain
triggered by his nervous system, but somehow, he didn't find this answer as satisfactory as before. How could he logic
away this pain? How could he ignore his anger?

"Lucius...You disappoint me." a deadly soft voice came from nearby.

"M-my Lord?"

"Crucio!"

Hasan was attacked by the knives again, but no scream came out, almost as if his body were mocking him. It was the
scream of another that echoed around the room. Hasan cracked open an eyelid to see the Malfoy lord groveling on the
floor, confusion and fear splayed clearly across his face. Beside him was his wife, but she was kneeling out of fear, and
not from pain. Why were they here though? Hasan wondered.

"Perhaps you can tell me why you have not been overseeing your family vaults and why I have been robbed of a valuable
artifact. Especially when your sister, Bellatrix, was dutifully serving me in Azkaban and unable to carry out the task I gave
her."

He saw how Lucius hesitated to meet his wife's eyes, but he did so, risking the Dark Lord's wrath. There was a question
there, but Narcissa shook her head minutely.

"You may answer too, Narcissa. After all, you are all equally responsible."

"I don't know, my Lord! Please forgive us!" Narcissa begged. Her face was tear stained, but her voice was strong. Lucius
seemed to draw from her confidence for he straightened his back in his kneel.

"That may be, but you should still be punished. That cup belonged to the House of Hufflepuff and now someone has
stolen it! Right from under your nose." Voldemort hissed, and it was then that Hasan realized that the voice was coming
from him! It was not from his mouth, rather, it was like being trapped inside something that's mouth moved without
consent. The Malfoy's stiffened and bent their heads in resignation. "I should punish you." he continued. "I would not find
pleasure in punishing my servants, but I do what I must to remind some of their places. Instead I am willing to move past
this little incident."

If anything, the two tensed even more. The Dark Lord did not forgive. And the Dark Lord did not forget.

"What can we do for you, my Lord? We only wish to serve!" Lucius cried.

Hasan felt the lips the quirk up.

"As I have always thought, Lucius, Narcissa. Your entire family has always been very loyal to me. Let me not be proven
wrong..."

Narcissa stilled and swallowed.

"How old is your son, Lucius?"

"T-twelve, my Lord."

"Going into his third year, is he not, Narcissa?"

"That is correct, my Lord."

There was silence for all of a minute. The Dark Lord ran his fingers up and down his phoenix wand, basking in the
suspense.

"I have a task for young Draco." the Dark Lord murmured. "A very important task. If he is successful then we can forget all
about this little...lapse in judgment. But should he fail...I will know if you are truly loyal."

"He is not of age yet, my Lord!" Narcissa pleaded. "Please, my Lord!"

"You dare to question me? After I have given you another chance? CRUCIO!"

-VISION END-

Pain. Pain. Pain. PAIN. PAIN. PAIN. PAIN.

That was all Hasan knew before he was panting on the floor. He gulped in breath after breath of air, not knowing why he
felt the need even after the constrictive feeling had passed. So many things were whirring in his mind...literally as well. If
part of Lucius was in his mind, then perhaps...was part of Voldemort in there too? And what was this cup that Bellatrix
Lestrange had in her vault? Perhaps it was...

A hand appeared in his line of vision, and he tentatively took it, his limbs shaking as the aftereffects of the Cruciatus.

"Drink this." Snape ordered, thrusting a vial in his face. "For the Cruciatus."

Hasan uncorked the vial and drank the bright re liquid, letting the warmth flood his body. It was almost as good as
chocolate after a dementor...
"Are you alright?" Severus asked calmly when he had recovered his breath.

"I-Thank you for the potion." Hasan said.

"Your scar is bleeding." Severus pointed out before pointing his wand at it and muttering a quick healing spell. "Explain.
What the hell was that?"

"It was another vision from Voldemort."

Snape winced. "Another?"

"I got one before, as a snake."

Of course he did. "What did you see?" Snape pressed.

Hasan froze. "Draco."

"Dr-!"

"His parents lost a cup from Bellatrix's vault and Draco's been given a task to punish them. I don't know what it is, but we
can't let Draco go back there! Voldemort was torturing them. Draco can't handle that!"

"I will do my best to protect Draco, but you say that this is all about a cup?" Severus asked slowly.

Hasan bit his lip. If he was right in his guess and this cup was a indeed a bit of...soul, then how much could he tell his
most trusted professor? But then, who else could he trust? Certainly not Altair...Dumbledore didn't even make the list.
Narcissa, well, he barely knew her, and as it seemed, she was in frequent contact with the Dark Lord. But Snape, despite
his flaws, and the mental attack, had watched over him from day one. Why couldn't he trust him?

"Is there a name for a soul vessel? I think Voldemort made some." he said presently.

Whatever Severus thought the boy was going to say came nowhere close to what he actually did.

"A-a soul...vessel?" Severus asked tersely, wondering if and how much Altair had told him.

"The Cup belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, and I think that Voldemort would have found other objects in which to place his
soul. Actually, I know this for a fact. His diary told me. What I want to know is: Is there such a term?"

Severus was torn between saying yes and then yelling why on earth the boy insisted on involving himself, and denying it
vehemently and coaxing the affirmation that he did in fact want to be a savior. Severus chose the former.

"It is a Horcrux, the darkest magic of all." Severus said seriously. "Did Altair tell you about them?"

Hasan's eyes flashed. "He knows?" he asked with wide innocent eyes.

"I-that is neither here nor there!" Snape snapped, though the boy knew the answer for what it was. "I think it would be
best if you never mentioned it to anyone. Knowledge may get you killed...or kill someone in turn."

"But the dagger can destroy them!" Hasan protested excitedly. "The Malfoy dagger!"

"The dagger can only perform miracles when the holder is experiencing l-love." He did not know what made him say it.
He couldn't even remember if it was true or not, but it sounded true to his own ears. Actually, he knew definitely that it was
true. But then, when was Hasan ever in love? Severus decided not to dwell on this.

"But surely I can experience it again?" Hasan said hopefully.

"It must be unintentional." Snape stressed. "The dagger is tied to your magical core, your aura, and only the soul can
access this. Your mind cannot, no matter how much you think you desire it."

A sudden image of the dagger came to Severus' mind. All emerald, silver hilt, and flashing blade. But where had he seen
it before?

"My mind." Hasan repeated sullenly, remembering how messed up it was.

"Indeed."

"Is there a way to give the memories back? Or to protect against Voldemort? My mind feels like it's twisted in a knot."
Hasan sighed.

"I was already thinking that we should start Occlumency, if you are not averse to it." Severus said.

"Mind protection?" Hasan said, knowing it from his lessons with Altair, even though the man had never deigned to teach
him...probably to keep him from realizing how screwed up his mind was.

"Yes, beginning next year. It won't do to have our savior susceptible to the Dark Lord's torture sessions. Especially when
he has them often." Snape added bitterly.

"Really? You'd teach me?" Hasan asked. "Even though...even though you don't like my father?"

Snape froze. How had the brat picked up on that? "Hasan, James and I never got along, but I certainly won't carry a
grudge over from the dead, nor will I impose any lingering emotions on his child."

Hasan nodded. He had been worried about this too. "Thank you." he said, then yawned. "I...I haven't told you about the
Chamber yet."

Snape watched the child's eyes droop, knowing that he must be exhausted.

"You can tell me next year. I might even see it." he said. "Now get some rest."

Never in a million years would he have imagined he would be carrying James Potter's son willingly in his arms, but now
here he was. Wishing Hasan sweet dreams and a whole lot of luck.

.oOo.

Luna Lovegood stood outside the Hospital Wing with a bouquet of white lilies tied with blue ribbon. She wore a bright
blue robe, which matched the ribbon (not the other way around), and had in a pocket of that robe a most interesting
invisibility cloak...

Right before Neville had entered the chamber, Luna had discreetly taken Draco's wand from his robes which she later
used to Confund Neville, then Stun Hasan. She didn't intend to harm either of them, but it would look too suspicious if
Hasan wasn't with them, for none of his house mates could confirm his presence. Besides, Neville was practically
immune in the eyes of the headmaster. Hasan surely wouldn't be under scrutiny as the main savior if he were seen
aiding Neville. The main thing was to make sure the headmaster didn't suspect Hasan capable of such feats. Whether
Hasan was an ally or out past curfew was of little consequence.

Thus, it was a fool proof plan to stun the lot of them!

And so, that's just what Luna did: stunned them all and sealed the chamber after fifty attempts at hissing. Under the
protection of Neville's invisibility cloak, she laid the boys down outside in the hall and waited with Myrtle for some
passerby. Myrtle was admittedly not a good conversationalist. All she did was moan and say how attractive she thought
the boys were. When she mentioned Hasan, Luna accidently flushed her down the toilet.

It was around four in the morning when laughter could be heard down the hall. Luna had poked her head out to see
Theo and Hermione...snogging each other senseless. That was until Hermione looked towards her and let out a shriek.

"What's wrong, Hermione? Did I do something wrong?" Theo asked worriedly.

"L-look!"

Needless to say that the two weren't there for long. Snape came sometime later, with Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey
not far beyond. What Luna thought a little odd was the diary of Tom Riddle. She had figured the anagram out—it wasn't
hard. To her, the world was full of patterns. What was a simple anagram compared to the great Luna Lovegood? It was
Voldemort's diary, but more than that, it held Voldemort's soul, or at least, it did.

Luna sniffed her flowers tentatively.

Some things were just fated to happen.

.oOo.

Severus came down the hall with Hasan draped across his arms.

"Miss Lovegood." he said tersely as he entered the hospital wing.

"Professor." Luna beamed. "You look like you would like a lily."

The professor laid Hasan gently on the bed before turning to face the girl.

"What on earth—"

But Luna had already taken a lily from the bunch and proffered it to the man. Her silver eyes blinked once, then twice, and
seemed to dim.

"Oh."

The Inspiration had taken her again, and it took some quick deductions to figure out why the Potions Master held a flower
—her flower, and why on earth he had received it.

"Thank you, Miss Lovegood." the man said tonelessly. He conjured a glass and placed the flower gently inside.

"Don't worry. He looks like a lily too!" Luna exclaimed happily, and dropped the entire bouquet into the glass with water.
They left it on the table between Draco and Hasan. Severus frowned—was it possible that Miss Lovegood knew the truth
of Hasan's birth? He had always thought her a bit mindless, but by now he knew that anyone who associated with
Hasan could not be what they appeared.

Across the room, Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey, and Augusta Longbottom surrounded Neville's bed, completely
ignoring Hasan and Draco who were just as injured, if not more, than their boy hero.

"How could this have happened, Dumbledore?" Augusta was sniffling. "I always knew that You-Know-Who would return,
but to see Neville like this...oh!"

Suddenly a whole gang of Weasley's came bursting into the room with shouts and presents and tears.

"NEVILLE!" Ginny screamed. "NEVILLE!"

"Merlin, calm down, Gin!" Fred said.

"Yeah, Nev's going to be just fine!" George added.

Ron came trudging behind. He was concerned for his friend, but...goddamn it, why didn't Neville include him too?
Everyone was singing praises to the Boy-Who-Lived, even Hasan and Draco's names were mentioned once or twice!
What he wouldn't give to have a piece of the glory, just a fraction, a shrivel! He hated to admit it, but he was jealous, and
there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Hermione and Theo came a bit later, holding hands unabashedly. It seemed that the image of three unconscious and
semi-bloody boys caused them to seek physical comfort.

"Hey, mate." Theo said softly as he looked at Draco. "How are they?" he asked, turning to Snape.

"Recovering fairly well." Severus replied, raising an eyebrow at their clutched hands.

Hermione flushed and tried to pull her hand away, but Theo held her fast. He wasn't afraid of his head of house and he
wasn't ashamed of dating a muggleborn either!

"Hasan, is he alright? He has some tremors going through his body!" Hermione shrieked in surprise.

Severus glanced down at the boy who did indeed seem to be trembling. The aftereffects of the cruciatus—but hadn't he
already taken care of that? With a frown, Severus tipped Hasan's head up and poured some dreamless sleep down his
throat so that he at least could sleep in peace.

"Oh, hello, Luna." Hermione said to the blonde. "I'm so sorry I didn't see you!"

The girl in question was sitting in the back, creating a flower chain with some of the lilies.

"It's alright, Hermione!" she said brightly. "Oh look! You found your own lily!"

Hermione laughed awkwardly when she didn't understand, but Theo nodded as if that word 'lily' had some sort of
significance.

"Yeah, I do like Hermione." he said bluntly. "It's about time someone knew."
Luna just swung her feet back and forth under the chair as the other side of the room erupted in cheers.

"He's awake!"

"How're you feeling, Neville?"

"What the hell were you thinking going down there at night?" Augusta screamed.

"My poor Neville!" Ginny cried, and lunged to hug him.

"Yeah, poor Neville." Ron grumbled disappointedly.

Neville rubbed his eyes and then groaned. He had a migraine, a super migraine. It was like being hit in the head with a
brick, and then slamming into the entire brick wall...

"Wh-What happened?" he asked, wetting his lips nervously.

"You defeated You-Know-Who, silly!" Ginny beamed.

"Well..." Dumbledore cleared his throat and glanced towards where Severus was standing. "We don't exactly know what
happened. When Mr. Castell and Mr. Malfoy awaken we will be able to talk to them."

"But isn't it clear what happened?" Ron asked exasperatedly. Why did they have to drag it out? Wasn't it obvious? "Neville
saved us all again!"

"Is that a touch of jealousy in our ickle Ronnikins?" Fred and George cooed.

Ron blushed a furious scarlet, but retreated none the less. Maybe he had overstepped one of those things called
boundaries again.

"Any luck, Severus?" Dumbledore called, as if he couldn't bring himself to get up and cross the room.

"Perhaps if you were to attend to them you would know yourself." Severus returned bitterly. The headmaster's face
darkened.

"Of course, you are right, Severus." The old man shook his head as if warding something off, and approached the small
group with measured strides.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Luna piped up from the corner. "Where's your lily?"

"Pardon, Miss Lovegood?" Albus enquired good-naturedly, though he faltered in his step.

"Your lily!" Luna repeated.

"Er, I think Luna means your lover...?" Hermione hesitated to add but Luna shook her head.

"Just Love." Luna grinned, causing Snape to blanche. There was no doubt in his mind now that Luna knew- about him
and about Hasan. "I don't see it. Are you hiding it somewhere?" She looked over the headmaster's head, then peered
closely at his beard, not looking directly in his face.

"Luna!" Hermione hissed. "You don't say that—"

"It's quite alright Miss Granger. Miss Lovegood has every right to question why I do not divide my attention evenly."

Severus raised a supercilious eyebrow. Oh, so now the headmaster decided to be honest?

"And pray, what would that be?" Severus nearly growled. "Isn't House prejudice beneath us?"

Albus swallowed audibly. "It is not exactly about Hogwarts, my boy...I don't—" Suddenly his eyes went blank and he shook
his head. "I'm sorry. Severus, you were saying?"

"I can't believe this." Severus snarled, missing the look. "You say you're trying but where's the proof?"

"Don't be too hard on him, professor!" Luna interjected. "I think it's all the Carbuncle's fault. Carbuncles are like that, you
know. My father wrote an amazing article on them in the Quibbler. Carbuncles have a jewel on their forehead and anyone
who wishes to obtain it will be blinded. Of course, if that person is content, the Carbuncle will drop the jewel without a
fight, but really, it is all the Carbuncle's fault!"
More or less ignoring this statement, the entire room focused on the headmaster who was swaying tiredly.

"Severus?" Albus asked uncertainly. "I was trying to meet with Mr. Castell and Mr. Malfoy, wasn't I?"

A strange look crossed Severus' face. "I don't know." he said slowly.

"Perhaps you should take a nap, Albus." Madame Pomfrey suggested hurriedly. "It's been a long night."

The headmaster nodded sadly as his gaze swept around the room. Everyone was looking at him with concern, but why?
It wasn't his old age...and he felt fine! So then why did he feel as if he were missing something? Something critical?

Before he left the room, he gave a saddened glance towards the Slytherins. Something about the Castell boy threw him
off, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was...In fact, every time he tried to think of him, his thoughts swam away from him...

A/N- Oooh! What's wrong with Dumbledore? Better yet, what's going on with Altair, Lucius, and Hasan? What about
Draco? Anybody scared he'll turn dark?

Results of Last Week's Vote: (If someone said "anybody but so-and-so, I put a point for everyone else)

Lupin-9; UmBITCH-4; Nicolas Flamel-3; Mary Poppins-3; Tonks-3; Moody-5; Snape-3; Moody-impersonating-Umbitch-2

Current Vote!

Neville's parents:

a) Mom dies, Dad lives

b) Dad dies, Mom lives

c) Mom lives, Dad lives

d) Both live, but one can't fully recover

THANK YOU!

NEXT UP: Draco's Task

*Chapter 22*: Draco's Task
Author's Note: I wanted to update yesterday, but I was just so tired... haha, sorry! Btw, thanks everyone for the really
awesome reviews! I'm really flattered and very happy! I'm (finally) writing chapter 32, but my planning for the story has
more and more holes so writing is going slowly. I also wanted to say thanks to greyhoundxx for being a wonderful beta
reader!

A/N3: There's a vote at the end! And we are nearing 500 reviews! Please help make this happen!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 22: Draco's Task

Albus Dumbledore strode swiftly into his office, his heavy blue robes swaying inside just as the door slammed shut. He
pressed a wrinkled hand to his sweating forehead and sat heavily into his high-backed chair.

He had not been this upset in a very long time.

He should have known the signs. Hadn't he been suffering from memory recall since last year? Well, only when it
concerned that child, that...that Slytherin child. Hasan Castell. Yes, he knew the name. Yes, he knew the face. But what
else did he truly know? Was he a happy boy? An intelligent one? When had he become friends with Neville Longbottom?
Yes, he knew the surface.

No, he knew nothing at all.

But despite what some people thought, Dumbledore was extremely intelligent. And it did not take half of his intelligence
to figure out that he had been cursed. The question was, Why? Who would have Albus Dumbledore at their mercy and
cast a simple memory spell? Obviously, there was more to the story.

He waved his hand, causing several sheets of papers to fly towards him with a perfectly dipped feather quill. He wrote
down the name, then sat and stared at it for a long time. There was nothing else he could add. Severus thought he was
purposely neglecting the Slytherin House, but truth be told, he paid very close attention to the house of Salazar. In some
ways, too much attention. He had a file for every child, and it just so happened that the house of Salazar had a larger file
cabinet, most likely because half of it was speculation and only a few basic facts were considered accurate.

Albus sighed, sent the paper away, and looked at Fawkes forlornly.

"What is happening? I just don't understand..."

Fawkes let out a trill and ruffled his feathers in a shrug.

"I've been placed under a memory spell or something like it." Albus wondered aloud. "Someone at some time before or
during last year had been able to get close enough to me to cast the spell. I must have been sleeping, knocked out, or
perhaps this memory is gone too. I can't remember Hasan Castell. I don't know anything about him. Maybe...?"

The headmaster looked at Fawkes questioningly before sighing. Phoenix tears, though powerful, could not heal this type
of hurt. All he could do for the foreseeable future was dig just a bit more, and perhaps uncover a scrap of truth.

But even with all this uncomfortable uncertainty, something deep within Albus Dumbledore roared. It was almost as if
part of him was expecting, even hoping that he himself would discover his own memory gap, and was now proud that he
had figured it out for himself..."Merlin, help us all!" He was getting too old for this...

A knock on the door woke Albus from his slumber. He hadn't even realized he had been sleeping.

"Come in." he called as Minerva McGonagall hurried into the office with Madame Pomfrey at her heels.

"Albus! What is going on?" Minerva asked breathlessly. "Are you suffering from memory loss? Do you need some
potions? It's perfectly normal at this age—!"

"Minerva, I am fine." Albus lied, holding up a tired hand to silence her.

"No, you most certainly are not!" Poppy screamed. "You had us all worried! This isn't normal!"
"Poppy, Minerva, calm down!" Albus pleaded. He didn't need them to know how vulnerable he was. He needed to be the
leader and not have people think someone else messed with his mind. That someone else could manipulate him. "It
was a simple memory lapse. I will ask Severus to make me some potions later."

"Well." Minerva pursed her lips. "I'm glad you're alright because... I am VERY disappointed in you Alb us Dumb ledore!
What were you thinking, letting Mr. Longbottom fight the Dark Lord for the second time? What was all that you said about
not sacrificing children for the cause? First Mr. Potter, now Mr. Longbottom! Are you trying to see how long each child will
last before they crack? I suppose you'll pick Ron Weasley next! Goodness knows he'd appreciate some recognition!"

"He's trying to best!" Poppy defended soothingly. "No one planned for You-Know-Who to show up at the school!"

"Oh, but isn't that why we had dementors? To protect against this sort of thing?" Minerva shrieked. "Look, Albus, I
understand that you have to do what's best of all of us, but Neville needs more support."

"I agree." Albus said. "Which is why I have planned for the Weasleys, as well as Mr. Longbottom to stay at Grimmauld
Place with Sirius and Remus. With Voldemort more powerful than previously thought, we can't afford to leave them at
their family homes."

Albus Dumbledore did not know yet about the breakout.

"That's...very thoughtful of you." Poppy nodded. "Don't you think so, Minerva?"

"The best thing would be not to involve them at all." Minerva said stiffly. "But wars do have a way of involving all of
us...Well, I'm glad you're feeling alright, Albus." A touch of concern entered into her eyes, and a niggling feeling, some
might identify as guilt, bubbled in Albus' heart...

Just as the two women left, a large grey owl swooped into the room. In its talons was a rolled up Daily Prophet.

Dumbledore gently undid the knot and unrolled the freshly printed paper.

"The Daily Prophet reports a mass b reakout from Azkab an..."

The shadows lengthened.

.oOo.

The Dark Lord had left Lestrange Manor seconds ago, leaving Narcissa and her husband gasping on the floor. Not
Draco! Not her Draco! Instead of feeling regret for what she did, for the sin she had committed, she felt now, more than
ever, that that bastard had to go down.

"D-draco!" Lucius whispered hoarsely after several minutes. "We can't tell him we're switching. He doesn't have enough
experience. The Dark Lord will be able to sense it and then he'll die for certain."

Narcissa's beautiful blonde hair fell over her face. "No. We can't tell him." She was condemning her son either way: Don't
tell him, and leave him to think he was alone to carry out the Dark Lord's orders. Tell him, and have him die not long after.
Her son was too young, too innocent—this was the only way. Draco, I'm so sorry.

"He will have to believe we are still loyal. And we'll have to support him." Lucius continued, feeling sick.

"He'll be so confused. He'll feel betrayed." Narcissa said, tears welling in her icy eyes. "My poor Draco..."

The husband and wife looked at each other for the first time since they were alone. Lucius did not have to ask about the
missing cup. He could sense it. Narcissa had taken the cup, and by the Dark Lord's reaction, it was a pretty damn
valuable cup too.

"I'm so proud of you." Lucius smiled pitifully. He didn't want to go into specifics. Not now... "And Draco. He's alright."

"And Hasan?" Narcissa couldn't help but ask.

Lucius licked his lips. "No different than before."

The two stood up gingerly, limbs still shaking from the cruciatus, and leaned heavily on one another. It had indeed been
a while since their Lord had punished them and they hoped it would not happen again anytime soon.

As they regained control of their tremors, the door opened to reveal Bellatrix Lestrange, dressed cap-à-pied in a rich
wine-plum color. Her hair was gorgeous after many washes, but her face remained gaunt and mercilessly sharp.
"Cissa! Lucius!" Bellatrix yelled happily. Contrary to popular belief, Bellatrix did actually care about her family.

" Bella!" Narcissa beamed, shoving down her guilt for stealing the cup. She welcomed the cadaverous woman with open
arms, praying that the other did not feel how her heart sped up in panic. Even if Bellatrix cared about her, she knew that
treason would not be tolerated. Why, Bellatrix would like nothing more than to rip Sirius Black limb from limb and throw
him into a lake of Inferi. If she had a choice, Narcissa would like to avoid that treatment at all costs. "Oh, Bella. I missed
you!" she lied sweetly.

"I missed you too! And Draco! He has had to grow up without his aunt!" Bellatrix lamented. "But I hear he has a task!
What luck!"

Lucius coughed. "Please excuse me."

"He's a little tired, that's all." Narcissa said, envious of her husband that he could leave when she could not.

"No matter. Come, let's get out of this drafty room. I'll have the house-elves fix us some tea."

Narcissa followed the dark woman through Lestrange Manor till they came upon the salon. She hadn't been here in
many years. The place was labyrinthine and cold.

"How are you feeling, really?" Narcissa asked. "I can't imagine the Dark Lord was too happy with you either. It was your
vault."

A shadow crossed Bellatrix's face and she sighed. "No. But I can't bring myself to feel too ashamed because I've been
freed. I'd rather not talk about it. How has Draco been? What have I missed?"

"Draco has grown up as handsome as Lucius." Narcissa said sincerely. "But he's much too young for this task. I don't
even know what it is, but it's a punishment. I know it is, for our mistakes."

"Oh, Cissa! Don't worry! If the Dark Lord thinks Draco is ready, then he is! I have no doubt he is every bit as great as both
of his parents!"

"I hope." Narcissa said uneasily. "He'll need every ounce of fortune he can get."

"If I had sons I would willingly give them up!"

"Why don't you? Have sons, I mean." Narcissa asked as tea suddenly popped onto the table. "Oh! That was...fast." She
thought of Dobby suddenly and wondered where the little elf was if no mistress was in the picture...

"They're trained well." Bellatrix said nonchalantly. "But kids? I've been in Azkaban for most of Draco's childhood! I couldn't
fully serve my master and raise my own kids!"

"Our parents hired nannies." Narcissa reminded her.

"Yes, and look how Andromeda turned out! It's a one in three chance! I can't take that chance!" Bellatrix sighed. "If I'm
having a child, I'm raising him or her myself!"

"You're better than most people give you credit for." Narcissa sighed, sipping her tea.

"Like who? Dumbledore, the old fool?" Bellatrix laughed. "What else could he think after what I did to the Longbottoms!
My life's work, if I do say so myself."

"They're still at St. Mungo's." Narcissa said quietly. "I don't know why they bother keeping them alive. Except perhaps for
Neville Longbottom...he's the Boy-Who-Lived now."

"A simple farce." Bellatrix quipped. "The Dark Lord maintains that Harry Potter is the one to kill."

"What?" Narcissa nearly jumped. "Harry Potter's been training in the mountains!"

"If that were true, don't you think the Dark Lord would have killed him by now? No, the boy's been in hiding. The Light can't
find him. He's missing."

"Oh Merlin..." Narcissa breathed. That was it. They were doomed! They were doomed!

"Yes, I know." Bellatrix said. "Hmm." She frowned down at her cup. "It appears my tea has run dry."
.oOo.

JUNE.

Grimmauld Place, ordinarily so drab and lifeless, was now full of vivacious young witches and wizards. Dumbledore had
decided that it was in Neville's best interest to stay at Headquarters for the summer holidays, especially since there had
been a mass breakout from Azkaban...The Weasleys were there, as they were known to be Dumbledore's top
supporters, Neville's friends, and therefore, Voldemort's enemies. The Burrow was just too vulnerable and conspicuous,
even with Bill's warding expertise. Hermione was there as well; being a muggleborn, she of all people needed solace.

Sirius and Lupin lived at the house full time. It was Sirius' ancestral home after all—not that he much liked it. They liked
Dobby of course, although Sirius for the life of him couldn't remember if the elf was a new addition. Then again, it wasn't
like he paid much attention to the goings on of the house when he was a child, him running away to the Potter's and all.
But he remembered Kreacher-the damnable creature! Hermione kept trying to draw the poor elf out and knit him a
sweater (despite it being 90 degrees outside), but he always refused and disappeared to Merlin knew where...

It was midday and the sun was shining through the weathered windows and into the dusty air. Fred and George had
gone upstairs to explore, while Hermione attempted to teach Ron Fur Elise on an old piano they'd found in the living
room. Lupin and Sirius were out and about, doing some shopping here and there, which inevitably left Neville and Ginny
alone.

"Ginny?" Neville asked quietly, setting aside his plate. "Why is it that you like me?"

"Why wouldn't I, silly?" Ginny laughed, swinging her legs under the chair in the dining room. "You save people. You're my
hero! We both know what it was like when You-Know-Who was terrorizing the world—at least, our parents told us. Now,
because of you, we have a chance to defeat him."

"But I can't-!" Neville protested, squiring in his seat.

"But you already have!" Ginny protested, growing a bit frustrated. Why was he fighting her on this?

"Well, what if it wasn't me who saved the world? What if it was Harry Potter?"

"Don't be silly, Neville!" Ginny repeated with a little laugh, thinking he was pulling her leg. "The prophecy referred to you!"

"No! The prophecy referred to a boy born at the end of July!"

"Yes! You!" Ginny insisted. "What are you trying to achieve here, Neville?" Her legs stopped swinging. "Look, I'm attracted
to you...you're brave and smart and, and...handsome. Defeating You-Know-Who is only secondary to that."

"But-" Neville said looking guilty.

"No but's! Neville, I know it's hard, but I know you'll defeat him in the end. Just listen to me: I understand."

Her beautiful brown eyes locked with his and his heart began to spiral. But she didn't understand. He didn't either really.
Every time he had 'defeated' the Dark Lord, his friends were by his side, and then he would wake up in the infirmary with
no recollection whatsoever. Perhaps the only thing that bothered him was the invisibility cloak. He had taken it down to
the chamber but no one had mentioned it since...and yet, all Neville could think was good riddance! It was never his at all
and some of the guilt stripped away.

.oOo.

Meanwhile in the living room, Hermione watched as Ron struggled to make sense of all the music notes on the page.

"This is an A, right?" Ron asked, squinting at the yellowed parchment.

Hermione nodded. "Good! Now do you know where it is on the keyboard?"

Ron swallowed. All the keys looked the same! Granted they were black and white, but honestly! How could anyone learn
to navigate on this thing? Let alone play it!

"Er...Er...I can't find it." Ron said helplessly as he stared down at the identical keys. He waited, staring at the music, and
wondering.

He waited.
Hey, wasn't this about the time that the girl was supposed to come up behind him and rest her chin on his shoulder and
move her hands on top of his and place them gently on the keys? (Not that he was cheating on Lavender, no...he just
liked attention no matter who gave it to him.)

He waited some more.

Finally, Ron turned around to find Hermione perfectly content, curled up on the couch with a poetry book. She seemed to
sense his glance and looked innocently up at him.

"Oh. You know the three black keys? The white one in between that's on the right."

She immediately turned her attention back to the book. Apparently it was much more engrossing than him.

Ron turned back around.

Black, white, b lack, white, b lack, white...

Summer sucked.

.oOo.

Hasan was home at last, but the Estate seemed distant and more impersonal than before. How could he feel the way he
had when he knew what Altair did? He was a nothing more than a pensieve. And this—this fantasy of being taken away
from the orphanage and given a home- a family, well, he knew it for what it was. The Castell Estate was not a home. It
was a velvet box with a satin cushion, a pretty prison to keep the memories safe. He was just a body.

No wonder Altair had taught him to defend himself—it was all to defend his mind. And as for the mind itself, it was
obvious now that Altair never taught him Occlumency because then he would have been aware of the added presence.
He was no more a son than he was a boy. He was a tool. No one would ever love him.

But that wasn't true! he told himself. Luna loved him. She had understood before anyone else, and had not hated him for
any of the innumerable mistakes he had made. Perhaps it was time he told her about the diadem? He hadn't before, but
now...now that he knew it was a horcrux...it was best to tell her. Who else could he tell? By Severus' reaction, it seemed
that Altair knew about them. For how long? Perhaps this was why he had to feign death, because the Dark Lord realized
he knew. The Black Blood Book wasn't the real reason...the Dark Lord didn't even know about it because it had never
b een pub lished.

Which meant that Altair had tried to get Hasan off his tracks.

It meant that Altair knew the Blood Book would serve as an adequate reason, while the true reason, the horcruxes would
not be disturbed. Hasan wouldn't be able to pry if the case was closed. Hasan wasn't sure how to feel about this
betrayal.

And then there were the visions...more than visions. He had b een the snake. He had b een Voldemort. Was this why
Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived? Because he could spy on the Dark Lord for a little price of pain?

Hasan shut his eyes, ran his nimble fingers down his auburn hair. So why, with everything he knew, did he want to return
to Harry? Just Harry with black hair and emerald eyes...

:How are you, little one?: Tina hissed, winding around the back of the chair as a pretty blue snake.

:Confused. Unsure.: Hasan admitted. :Did you know Altair knew about horcruxes?:

:Horcruxesss? What are they?: Tina enquired. :Your father hassss never sspoken of them.:

:They are soul fragments locked in a container.: Hasan said. :Similar to how Lucius' memories are locked within me.: He
shuddered and glanced towards the door that stood slightly ajar so that he could see if Altair was approaching.

:You have another'sss memoriesss? What a sstrange art you humansss practice. It iss sstrange becaussse you cannot
experience the memory. You mussst watch it play out asss a witnesss.:

Hasan swallowed. As a witness. Yes, this described Lucius' memories, but not Voldemort's.

:And what if I experience the memory as it happens?: Hasan queried softly.

Tina flicked her forked tongue out to taste the air. She was orange.
:Then it isss not a memory, Hasssan.:

Hasan knew this, and yet his veins turned to ice. Not a memory. He knew this. So why was it suddenly so ominous?

"Hasan?" Altair called for the sitting room. "Hasan, where are you? Can I speak with you for a minute?"

Hasan exchanged glances with Tina.

:Good luck, little one.:

.oOo.

Hasan arrived in the sitting room with some trepidation. He saw his...father sitting stiffly in a large squishy armchair with
an air of sadness. Hasan tensed. Was his father sad because he would regret what he was about to do? Were Hasan's
memories to be obliviated right now? Today? As it had happened how many times before?

"Sit."

Hasan sat on the long couch, body turned slightly towards his father.

"What is it?" Hasan asked tonelessly, biting his lip.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Altair turned towards him, brown eyes darkened by some unknown emotion.

"I don't know what you—" Hasan tried, making a fist at his side. His wand was in his pocket, but Altair's wand was on the
arm of the chair...

"Have I done something to you?" Altair blurted with wide, desperate eyes.

"Pardon?" Hasan asked. What?

"You've been avoiding me all summer." Altair continued as if bruised. "Have I harmed you in any way?"

Memories were not harmful, but the emotional pain...oh, sod it all! He had enough of his logic! Altair couldn't find out.
Self-preservation above all!

"No, I didn't mean to—" Hasan blushed. He had been worried for nothing.

"Please, Hasan. Don't lie to me. I know you're an Animagus!"

Wait, what? Hasan froze, mind whirring blankly. Did he just-? What-? Whatever he thought Altair was about to say was
decidedly not this. He nearly sighed out with relief.

"When?" Hasan asked.

"Your aura. I noticed it last year, it has some red flecks in it."

"So you knew what I had done?"

"No, but I guessed." Altair admitted. "And Severus—"

"Severus told you?" Hasan asked aghast.

Altair laughed suddenly. "No, no he didn't. I just wanted to confirm that you got the potion from a viable source. Goodness
knows the side effects of weird potions!"

Yeah, like you, Hasan thought.

"I'm sorry I haven't told you." Hasan said in what he hoped was a sincere voice. "But it's not exactly legal and I didn't want
you to be angry at me for putting us at risk."

"Hasan, Hasan, Hasan...This is wonderful! It gives you more defense, more skills to work with!"

Defense...Just when Hasan was about to like the man again, he had to go and bring that up. That was all he was:
protection for the memories...

"I'm glad you approve." Hasan said carefully. "May I be excused? I have to complete my Transfiguration homework."
"Of course, of course!" Altair waved him off, very much happy, and very much relieved himself. As Hasan walked away,
Altair leaned back and sighed.

Yes, there had been red flecks in his son's aura, always. At first he never mentioned it, thinking them to be Lucius'
memories, but then...Lucius was silver. He couldn't imagine what the flecks could mean, until he happened to see some
scratch marks on the wood floors, and a paw print, forgotten, by the back door. It wasn't hard to put that and Hasan's
frequent disappearances together- Hasan was an animagus...but something nagged at the back of his mind. He had
seen red flecks before.

On the ring, the locket, the cup, and an unknown object in Hasan's bag...perhaps Hasan's flecks were only black? A deep
orange perhaps? Too small, and therefore the color indistinguishable?

He pushed the idea out of his mind. In all honesty, he suspected that the memories he had implanted had affected the
boy's aura, and this guilt made him shut out the idea. Altair sat there, staring at the white ceiling, and wondering when
Severus would arrive with the potions.

.oOo.

Draco kept to himself mostly.

He would lock himself in his room and only come out to go to the loo or to grab something to eat from the kitchen.
(Apparently Dobby had disappeared and all the other house-elves weren't too keen on volunteering.) And anyway, he
didn't want a house-elf in his room. He knew the thing would spy on him and report back to his mother and father, who
were quite frankly, worried sick about him.

How could he have stolen the diary? He lay on his back, eyes glossed over as his stared at the dark brown ceiling. The
diary of Tom Riddle had been Voldemort's. He had been writing to Voldemort all this time...he felt the bile rise in this
throat. The man his parents worshipped was a monster. A madman. And He had been inside of him.

Why had his father been entrusted with Voldemort's diary? How had Hasan gotten it? And why hadn't Hasan been
possessed like he had?

Because Draco was weak.

Draco could not have hated himself more than right now. He remembered the events of his first year quite clearly. Quirrell
had tried to steal the stone, no one the wiser that Quirrell was really Voldemort, or partly at least. Last year, his concern
was mainly with Hasan, and though he was loath to admit it, Neville Longbottom. He had been so young last year...he
had never fully connected the blood-drinking monster with the glorious Dark Lord...but now? How could he even think of
serving the man that tried to suck out his life force? He had trusted Tom Riddle, and nearly died! How could that vile
creature, that cunning diary, and the Dark Lord he had been raised to worship possibly be the same?

His head was pounding, vision spinning as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Draco? Dragon, dear?" Narcissa pleaded forlornly at the door. "It's been a week and..." She faltered. No one wanted this,
but she couldn't hold Him off any longer. It would look suspicious and Draco would have no chance. No. This had to
happen. She took a deep breath. "The Dark Lord will be coming in ten minutes."

Draco had expected the usual, come eat something, come watch a movie, come play chess, NOT the man who tried to
kill you will be coming for a little visit! Draco shot off the bed, heart racing wildly, and blood draining from his head so that
his vision was dotted in blackness and stars.

He stayed in that upright position, waiting for his vision to return to normal, his breath to even out. He was a Slytherin, he
reminded himself. He would have to be calm and in control because anything less would be seen as weakness.

"Pardon?" he asked, wondering what Hasan would do in his position.

"Please Dragon..." don't make me say it again, Narcissa finished in her head. "Come out."

Draco bit his lip and smoothed down his flat hair. Ten minutes. That's all he had. Surely he wouldn't be killed over indirect
treachery? It wasn't like he had actively worked to destroy the diary anyway...Still, he didn't want to die, and he didn't have
enough time to master Occlumency...but he could try to clear his mind at least. That's what Uncle Sev always told him.
Think! Clear your mind! White! White! No, mayb e b lack? Think! Clear your mind!

"Dragon, honey?" a note of hysteria touched Narcissa's voice. She couldn't go through with this. It was all too much. Any
longer and she would flee, taking Draco with her to one of her homes in France...
The door cracked open. Draco peered out, silver eyes dulled and determined. Narcissa swallowed uncomfortably, her
tears and puffy eyes hidden beneath her glamour so that she looked the epitome of happiness.

"I'm alright. Thank you, mother." Draco said tonelessly. "Ten minutes you say?"

His mother nodded. "Draco?"

He looked at her, wondering why her voice seemed to falter despite her charming smile.

"Draco, I just want to warn you. I-I've not had the chance to bring you up to date seeing as we've wanted you to re-
recover...but your Aunt and Uncle are back."

"My Aunt...Andromeda?"

"No, Draco. Your Aunt Bella...There was an Azkaban breakout." There was an odd metallic quality about her voice, but he
couldn't pinpoint it. Did she resent her sister? Was that possible? He had always heard stories of how they had pranked
Andromeda growing up. They had been best friends...but then, he had also heard stories of an older, more twisted
Bellatrix. The type of Bellatrix who tortured Neville's parents into insanity. "-and I better tell you this too. The Dark Lord is in
a sort of...transitional state. He doesn't look the way we remember him because of some magical experiments."

Draco quirked an eyebrow at her, his heart, making another revolution around a knotted trap. Something didn't fit. How
could his mother be so cheerful when this was the same man who had tried to kill him before? He had thought that he
was his mother's world, even more important than the Dark Lord. Had he been wrong? Was this another fanciful idea he
had dreamed up as a child?

"Magical...experiments?" Draco echoed, wondering what it entailed.

"Yes." His mother fidgeted with her black robes. "It's best not to question it. Here." She proffered a bundled black cloak
and waited for him to throw it over his shoulders. As he went to do the fastenings, she stepped forward and began to do
it for him. Her hands shook, and Draco frowned.

.oOo.

Lucius paced the main room like a caged animal, hands twitching behind his back. The Dark Lord would arrive in less
than a minute, and if the gods were ever merciful, Bellatrix would not be with him. The entire situation was so screwed
up and twisted! Last week it had been simple enough to say they would carry out the plan, but now, Lucius was
beginning to realize that there was never a good time to start. Draco had been possessed not more than a week ago!
How would he feel? Betrayed? Upset? Perhaps he'd just commit suicide like Altair Castell supposedly had...

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Lucius released an audible sigh of relief as Draco and Narcissa entered the room.
He studied his son, worry etched on every line of his face. Draco was wearing black, probably on Narcissa's
recommendation, had his pale blond hair pulled back neatly, but not tied, and wore the dullest expression Lucius had
ever seen. It eerily reminded him of Hasan, and perhaps that was who Draco was attempting to emulate now. Well,
whatever worked best, because Draco was going to need all the help he could get.

"Don't be nervous." Narcissa soothed. "Just follow our lead and be respectful."

Respectful was right, but perhaps groveling was a better definition.

Just as the wards sent a tingle of magic through Lucius and Narcissa, the door on the other end of the room slid open...

A crackling of magical energy permeated the air, rubbing against Draco's cells in a way he didn't like. The Dark Lord
entered with long strides, black robes swirling around his feet like an ominous fog. Draco's eyes trailed upwards, nearly
shuddering at the harsh contrast between the handsome Tom Riddle and this...repulsive monster. The creature was
barely four feet high with stretched papery skin and no nose whatsoever. Admittedly, the Dark Lord did look better than he
had last week due to a potion Severus was brewing him, but for Draco, the contrast was startling.

Then something odd began to happen. A large green snake slithered from under the Dark Lord's cloak, heading straight
for him. His mind's eye flashed the picture of the Basilisk, but this was just an ordinary little snake...nothing to worry
about, right?

"My Lord!" Narcissa and Lucius exclaimed simultaneously, falling to their knees, black robes pooling around them.
Draco hurried to imitate them, falling-albeit less gracefully-to the floor where his knees scraped the stone.

"My Lord!" he whispered, the sound steady but weak in the large room. The sound poisonous on his tongue.
The Dark Lord chuckled, stopping about a foot away from the kneeling family.

"You may rise, young Draco. You are not yet mine."

Narcissa stifled a gasp, eyes squeezing shut in horror. Not her Draco! Not her Draco! He could not mean to mark him
now!

"But he wishes to be, my Lord!" Lucius interjected beseechingly from his position on the ground.

"Did I ask for you to speak, Lucius?" Voldemort snapped, whipping out his wand. The cruciatus was on the tip of his
tongue, but he needed to speak to Draco first. Even he knew a thing or two about not attacking parents to gain willing
cooperation, the key word here being willing. Draco got up slowly, trying his best to disguise his shaking, both arms
clamped firmly to his sides.

"I wish to be yours, my Lord." Draco said quickly, hoping to save his father from blunder. His eyes were fixed on the floor
and his limbs began to ache.

"Ah, but you have not yet proven yourself." Voldemort said softly. "This is why I have come today. I have a very special task
for you, Draco. One that will please me very much."

The way the Dark Lord wrapped his tongue around the syllables, Draco was sure they both knew he didn't have any
intention on pleasing, no more than staying alive.

"What is it, my Lord? How may I best serve you?" Draco pleaded, hoping he was laying it on thick. It was a bit like ice
skating, better thick than thin...

The Dark Lord's magic rumbled in pleasure at the sound of another willing servant, but Draco's attention was partially
captured by the giant green snake slithering closer and closer. Unlike the frail looking Dark Lord, the snake left nothing
disguised. It had clearly powerful jaws, shining white fangs with venom dripping from the ends, and a heavy tail that
thumped against the floor...Draco couldn't help the tremors running through him. It was too reminiscent of the Chamber.
The cold stone floor, the snake...Voldemort.

"For now, I only wish to satisfy my curiosity." Voldemort said carefully, watching as Nagini began to circle the boy like prey.
"My understanding is that you are very close to this...particular person."

Draco swallowed, keeping his eyes lowered. Person? What person? Blank! Think nothing! White! Black! Monochrome!
But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts wandered towards the stone, towards the chamber, towards Neville. Of
course the Dark Lord wanted to learn more about the Boy-Who-Lived...but how could Draco bring himself to betray the
one person who saved him time and time again?

"Neville Longbottom, my Lord?" he asked shakily, knees beginning to grow weak.

He was met by deafening silence.

Lucius sucked in his breath, Narcissa shook, her limbs already numb. He had spoken out of turn and even insinuated
he knew the Dark Lord's motives. Two very dangerous things indeed. Suddenly, laughter filled the main room, a cold
maniacal cackle that sounded of ringing chains.

"Longbottom? The Boy-Who-Lived?" the Dark Lord cried hysterically. "You seem to forget I taught him! No- the person I
want is much more...competent."

Draco's blood ran cold. If not Neville then who was he to spy on? There was only one other person that had met the Dark
Lord before. One person whom he was close to. Just one. He knew the name before it entered into existence, into the
still air of Malfoy Manor.

"Hasan Castell."

Narcissa and Lucius automatically tensed, neither knowing what the other knew, but both knowing that this was probably
the one person Draco would hesitate over. Did Fate hate them? Had one of them killed Merlin in a past life?

"You want me to spy on him, my Lord?" Draco squeaked, nearly quaking with fear.

"For now." Voldemort said, eyes blazing red. "I want you to learn his secrets. His friends. His family. The places he goes.
The people he sees. I need you to tell me his weaknesses. In other words, everything."
Draco set his resolve.

"I will not disappoint, my Lord."

"I'm sure of it." Voldemort leered, but he wasn't looking at Draco, no, he was looking straight into Lucius' eyes, and then
at Narcissa. "Because unlike at Hogwarts, Failure here is not tolerated."

A/N: Draco's confused! The Malfoy's are plotting! Voldemort is ugly! Hasan has a weird aura! Albus is senile! There's
been a breakout from Azkaban!

Vote: Are you actually interested in a tri-wizard tournament?

a) Very much so

b) a little

c) nope

d) I don't really care

Next up: Saving Draco Malfoy

(when shit goes down)

*Chapter 23*: Saving Draco Malfoy
A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Sorry I'm two days late in updating, but I just finished off chapter 33 this morning. Thank you
everyone for the lovely reviews! I'm really sorry I'm a few chapters behind on thank you notes! *runs and hides!*

THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, favorite-ed, followed, and otherwise supported this story. I'm so bad at
keeping track of thank you notes that I will give a big thank you here and hope that you'll all forgive me? THANK YOU! I will
start thank-yous again starting chapter 22 on.

Also, a big thanks to grey-hound who always edits these chapters!

A/N2: This chapter is full of drama so please enjoy! You'll meet the DADA teacher for this year...well, sorta. ENJOY!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 23: Saving Draco Malfoy

Draco was back in his room, contemplating his sudden doom. When he had first met Hasan it was for no other purpose
than to spy on him, and yet he still had not figured out anything remotely remarkable about the boy. He was smart and
more than a little socially awkward but overall, what could he possibly feed the Dark Lord that wouldn't result in his head
being Avada'd off?

At this point, it was either him or Hasan, and friendships, especially shaky ones, only went so far. At least, this is what he
was trying to convince himself. He sat at his black desk and turned over the invitation to Neville's birthday party. It was
Gryffindor red with gold trimming, and the party was set for the last week of July at the Burrow- wherever that was. For a
servant of the Dark Lord, he really knew how to spend his time.

Suddenly, there was a sharp tap at his window. Draco tensed before whipping around, only to realize it was Zephyrus,
the owl he had left his at Hogwarts. Apparently he was smart enough to find his way back home.

"Hey Zeph." Draco said quietly as he unlatched the glass window. The little white owl hooted once, its large eyes blinking
up at him. "I'm sorry. In all honesty I think I forgot...you."

Zephyrus puffed his feathers out indignantly, before flying onto his usual black perch. Draco smiled softly. "Fine."
Grabbing some owl treats from his drawer, he walked over to the pouting bird and offered the treat. Zephyrus snapped it
up in one go.

"There, now do you forgive me?" Draco asked, running his knuckles gently over his head feathers. Zeph chirped. "Good,
I've got enough going on without my owl hating me. I don't suppose you want to listen to me rant?...Alright, I'll take that as
a no, but I'll do it anyway."

He sighed and sat on his bed. "I guess it's not a big deal. It's a simple choice really. Do I want to die? Or can I risk letting
Hasan suffer...Well, it's not as if Hasan warned me about the diary...then again, I did take it...but what was he doing with it
anyway? It was here. It was at my house. It's unfathomable, Zeph. Can't you understand? Right, doesn't matter. It's life
and death now."

Draco sighed deeply before looking back at his owl. But Zeph was gone.

.oOo.

Narcissa was downstairs, setting the oven to work with a flick of her wand, the closest to the muggle way she would ever
get.

"What time?" Narcissa called, stirring the pasta around with a spoon. She could almost pretend she was making a
potion, which was magical enough.

"Near eleven." Lucius called tiredly from the sitting room, glass of wine in hand. Today had been too bloody stressful. It
was time to unwind a bit.

"And he can be trusted?" Narcissa asked again, trying her best to keep her voice steady and unbiased.

Lucius inclined his head. "Trusted? Oh no. As far as loyalties go, he must be the least trustworthy of us all. But for this,
we hardly have a choice."
There was a pause as Narcissa checked the mushrooms.

"You said Dumbledore trusts him." she said quietly.

"So does the Dark Lord." Lucius countered with another gulp of alcohol. "Still, there's no one else we can turn to. And he
won't betray us."

"I think he's to be trusted then." Narcissa said, though she couldn't help but feel there was something missing when it
came to Severus Snape. Something very strange and very distant.

"If you say so."

.oOo.

It was five hours after dinner when the wards first signaled the new arrival. Narcissa had checked that Draco was asleep
by drugging him more or less by spiking his tea with dreamless sleep potion, and has promptly locked his door. Merlin
knew they couldn't deal with an episode of sleepwalking tonight.

Narcissa did a last-minute check over the entire sitting room, making sure that pillows were fluffed, table straightened,
roses sticking up at symmetrical angles. She gave a satisfied nod of approval and turned to Lucius.

"I'll fetch the tea." Narcissa murmured, taking in her husband's darkened eyes and rigid posture. The Malfoy lord inclined
his head slightly, wondering if perhaps he shouldn't have taken that sobering potion.

The night sky had long since turned dark, lit only by the most brilliant stars. There were clouds too, but the moon was left
clear to shed its light on the most ominous of trees, casting shadows of seemingly grabbing hands...

Severus had been busy to say the least the last couple of days. The werewolf needed Wolfsbane every month and this
week was no exception. The Dark Lord also had him restocking his supplies, even after all the time spent trying to
develop a potion that returned the Dark Lord back to normal (as if). Clearly this wasn't even possible without the right
ingredients, but what he had brewed was acceptable for now. Severus also had his plate full with researching the very
few ways in which memory pockets could be dislodged harmlessly from the host mind. Not to mention Dumbledore's
plans for the next order meeting. Apparently Albus had a surprise that he refused to tell anyone, because of course, that
could ruin the surprise. Sometimes Severus wondered why he even bothered to play on the tightrope.

The main double doors of Malfoy Manor parted slightly, revealing a slightly thin silhouette of Malfoy senior. Even from a
distance, Snape could see the obvious burden on the man's shoulders. Lucius' posture was unrelaxed, yet tired, not
graceful in the least.

"Welcome Severus." Lucius greeted with a strained smile. "It's been a while since you've been here."

Severus didn't return the smile; he never did, instead opting for a somewhat puzzled expression on his usually stony
face.

"So it has."

Lucius opened the door wider to let Severus pass, not bothering to go through the pleasantries of handshaking. They
both knew it would be pointless.

"Your home looks lovely as always, Narcissa." Severus said as Narcissa set the ornate tea tray on the table.

"Oh thank you, Severus." Narcissa smiled gently. "We had to prepare for one than one special guest within the last few
days."

Severus raised a supercilious eyebrow. "Indeed." So the Dark Lord had been here, to Malfoy manor, despite his forces
being centered at Lestrange's house. Bellatrix had jumped at the chance to host headquarters, of course, and no one
was fool to fight her for it. So for the Dark Lord to visit..."What about may I enquire?"

Narcissa sent her husband an uneasy look before settling down in the chair opposite the fireplace.

"Please, sit." Lucius offered lamely, pointing to the chair left of Narcissa's, as he took the one on the right. Snape did so,
trepidation boiling in his stomach. If this was what he thought it was, if Hasan's vision was truly right...

Lucius cleared his throat to speak. "It's about Draco."

"The events at the school I could have hardly prevented, I can assure you." Snape quipped.
"No, no, it's not that." Narcissa said quickly, "And thank you for looking after Draco, even if there was nothing you could do.
What we're trying to say is that we need your help...again."

"And what would you need my help for? If Draco has been given a task (Narcissa gasped) then I cannot do it for him!"

"Y-you know about it?" the witch gaped incredulously, just as her husband roared: "Don't play coy, Severus! It doesn't suit
you!" The couple looked at each other before looking accusingly at the Potions Master. Snape simply shrugged and
reached gracefully for his tea.

"The Dark Lord has told me of his plan because Draco is being carefully watched. If he so much as steps one toe out of
line, he will be cut." Snape said harshly. Then with a cock of his head, he turned to Lucius. "Coy, Lucius? I'm not
attempting to trick you. I cannot interfere and I will not interfere."

"But you're a spy for the Light." Narcissa blurted with an unmistakable tone of hope. "Dumbledore said so."

And then it clicked, they had turned coat...

"And I'm a spy for the Dark. The Dark Lord said so." said Snape sourly. "But I have the impression it's not my loyalties that
need to be questioned here, is it? What I want to know is When. When is it that you switched sides."

There was no definite answer to When. Lucius had started corresponding with the lunatic named Altair roughly a year
ago, and his emotions had been borderline all throughout that time period. Narcissa had never wanted to receive the
Dark Mark and had always cared for Draco, but when had that changed into loyalty towards the Light?

"Recently." Lucius replied shortly. "I've already talked to Dumbledore about an arrangement. Our support for our
protection."

That fool! Severus thought. How could Dumb ledore hope to win if he flings amnesty at every Death Eater, virtually for
free?

"If you have Dumbledore's support, why on earth do you need me?" Severus remarked astutely. "Unless of course, you're
not planning on fleeing the country, which means you're going to play the game. But Draco can't play, can he? That's why
I'm here."

Lucius nodded. "He can't know...He can't...the Dark Lord would rip him to shreds." His voice had gone hoarse, cracked.

"An ambitious plan." Severus sighed, letting his mask fall for the first time since arriving. "I can only hope to guide Draco
in whatever he chooses to do. No, listen to me!" he said as Narcissa attempted to interrupt. "If Draco supports the Dark
Lord, he will view you as traitors for supporting the Light. He needs someone with unbiased reason to be on his side.
Otherwise we have lost him! If he does turn around, if he does learn the truth and everything is as your plan entails, he
will need someone who has never tried to persuade him either way to draw him back to his parents!"

"So you will be our line? Our one connection to our son?" Narcissa asked, lips quivering. "That's what we're doing, isn't
it? We're casting him out to fend on his own and hope we can reel him back in when the storm is gone." She released a
stressed moan before getting up. "I'd better get the whiskey."

Lucius looked at his wife in concern, knowing it was hardest on her as Draco's mother.

"It's the only thing we can do." Lucius said. "We're too deep in. We can't just flee."

"Dumbledore can help."

"Dumbledore is human, Severus! Dumbledore's followers are human! They make mistakes! Most of them want your
corpse rotting in Azkaban! How can we rely solely on him to relocate us with absolutely no backlash from both sides?
And that's assuming I don't already go mad from the Dark Mark!"

Almost unconsciously, Snape shook his left arm but disguised it as a full-bodied shudder. Enduring the pain of the
Morsmorde was enough for one minute, let alone for all eternity until death.

"You can win them over. You have money. The Order needs funds." Severus said confidently.

"Like you have so successfully charmed them?" Lucius sneered. "Black's as rich as us, and I hardly think tossing
around a few galleons will earn us more than a few snide comments. Though we'll be damned trying." he added bitterly.

"Dumbledore has more influence than you think." Severus said again. "It is a testament to him that my corpse is not
indeed rotting in Azkaban. The others will be difficult, I admit. But surely it won't be so difficult for the great Lucius Malfoy
to charm his way into any social circle."

"Some circle!" Lucius cried, trapped between laughing and crying. "Severus, I'm being absolutely serious! There's no
way we can do this! I was a fool to ask, but I have and now we are. We're condemning Draco's childhood, but maybe not
his future. But we need the support of the Order to save that and nothing's more stubborn than a Gryffindor!"

"I concur with you there." Severus said tiredly. They were running in circles and Severus was never one to coddle or raise
others' self-esteem. He pinched the bridge of his nose and thought, wondering when Narcissa would ever come back
with the whiskey. Perhaps there was something else the Malfoys could use, if not words. Most of the Order wouldn't
believe a word they said anyway, but actions...Gryffindor's respected them quite a bit more than they should...

"Can you cast a patronus?"

The idea was so completely random that Lucius nearly gaped at him.

"A...patronus?" Lucius echoed blankly.

"Yes, a patronus." Severus confirmed.

"How the bloody hell is that going to help me, Severus?" Lucius screamed. "And no, I haven't been able to cast a bloody
creature since I was at Hogwarts."

"Try it." Severus shrugged. "It's a highly secure form of communication we use in the Order."

"And I suppose I need a happy memory too?" Lucius spat. "Like what? I can't bloody well remember seven years of my
life if you do recall!"

"LUCIUS!" Severus yelled. "For Salazar's sake! Just bloody try for once!"

"I AM TRYING! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I CALLED YOU OVER?"

Both men were out of their seats, wands outstretched, tea cold and forgotten on the table.

"The incantation is simple: Expecto Patronum. Just think only of your happy memory. Don't let it go even for a second."
Severus whispered.

"I know how to do it." Lucius snapped. "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing happened.

"See! I-"

"Again!" Severus ordered mercilessly.

"Expecto-"

"Convince me, won't you? A second year could do this."

Lucius grit his teeth. "Expecto Patronum!"

"Are you even thinking of a happy thought?"

"I'm trying to envision us all alive, but frankly I'm finding that a difficult task." Lucius snapped.

"Then pick something else. Your wedding day, for example."

"Expecto Patronum! EXPECTO POTRONUM!"

A wisp, a silvery wisp of nothingness.

"Good." Severus said, and let it be known that he did not praise lightly. "Imagine every detail. Every noise, every smell.
Were there flowers? Was there music? Were you happy?"

This time, Lucius shut his eyes, unable to match the challenge in those onyx eyes. He imagined rows of grapevines, a
white isle, several white roses, and a quiet harp. He tried to relax, let the emotions flow through him, but something was
off. He frowned.
Where was the dress? Where was the perfume? The red roses? Unicorn-drawn carriages? Organs, violins, nymph
choruses?

Where was Narcissa?

It felt so nice though, and he couldn't understand or hope to explain the feeling. The entire memory was foreign, as if it
came a long way away, over a connection of gossamer.

And yet he was happy...

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Narcissa watched wide-eyed from the doorway. Glass shattered.

It was silvery, albeit very faint, but the animal was unmistakable. It wore a crown of feathers on its head, and had a sharp
beak and beady eyes. Narcissa's mouth dropped as she bent unconsciously to pick up the wine glasses. The large
silver bird looked right at her, millions of silvery eyes staring from its regal plume.

Severus staggered back, his legs catching the edge of his seat. Lucius' patronus was a peacock. A bloody peacock. It fit
perfectly with his personality...so then, was Hasan Castell's really a peacock, or was he influenced by the memories
trapped inside? Because of Altair's meddling, how much of Hasan was Hasan? And if he took that away...would
Dumbledore's golden boy be damaged beyond repair? He would have to research this, and research fast.

Lucius' eyes were wide open and as brightly silver as the majestic bird in front of him. And another thing, his cheeks
were wet. As soon as he opened his eyes, the vineyard and the white roses melted away into the picture of Narcissa,
crouching over broken glass. His vision was not possible. It was only that, a vision. And no matter how much he desired
it, how much he was intrigued by it, he could never ever have it.

But Narcissa couldn't have seen what he had seen. Narcissa couldn't have known what he had known. So then why was
she on the ground? Why was Severus on the couch, looking as if someone had given him a great slap in the face?

"You cast a patronus." Narcissa finally spoke, icy blue eyes sparking with amazement.

"Yes, but-"

And then there was a clap. Severus was clapping from his seat, a slow type of clap, dramatic, staged.

"Dark wizards can't cast a patronus." Severus explained smugly. "That's something the Order can't deny. It's your
salvation."

"OH!" Narcissa beamed, and summoned more whiskey from the cabinet to celebrate.

But Lucius felt anything but saved. If anything, he wanted to punch Severus in the face and tell him it wasn't worth it.
Because of that patronus, he knew exactly the happiest moment of his life, and absolutely nothing could bring it back. He
hated Severus. He hated himself. But he knew it was stupid, a pointless, puerile hate.

Draco was saved.

They were saved.

And it only cost his pain.

.oOo.

Mad-Eye Moody wouldn't have been Mad-Eye if not for the day he had been guarding the Department of Mysteries. He
was not exactly sure why he was down there, except that there was a wrenching in his gut, and he tended to follow those
sorts of things. It had been the week that Trelawney's prophecies had been moved into the Department, so suspicion
was running high.

As he approached the final level, however, an unknown figure robed in black, shot out from the shadows and ran towards
the exit. Naturally, Moody had whipped out his wand, and he fancied that he hit his mark, although he couldn't be sure,
and he would never even know. For the figure was gone the next moment, leaving Moody wondering if he had
hallucinated the whole thing. No one escaped Auror Moody. He was the best as far as law enforcement went. So for
something to surprise him and then for it not to be there? Now what sense could be made from that?
Moody would have dismissed the entire thing, if not for the peculiar feeling around his eye. Returning to the surface,
Moody had only to glimpse in the mirror to know it had not been a dream. His eye was gone. Missing as if it were never
there. In its stead was a smashed socket, which was easily remedied at St. Mungo's. Yet, the mystery remained, and so
did his electric blue eye.

.oOo.

"There's an Order Meeting today?" Ron asked excitedly around a mouthful of food.

Molly eyed him sharply. "Not for you. You're much too young." the Weasley matriarch plopped down on one of the kitchen
chairs at Grimmauld and began to cut into her eggs, sunny-side down.

"Yes, all children will have to go upstairs. It's the rule." Lupin said with a sympathetic shrug.

"But don't they deserve to know too, Moony?" Sirius questioned defiantly.

"They're too young, Sirius!" Molly snapped.

"No, we're not!" Ginny whined. "Neville's already had to defeat You-Know-Who three times before. It's the least you could
do to keep him informed!"

"I'd like to know at least." Hermione chimed in quietly.

"Yeah," Neville said, putting down his water glass with a bang. "I want to know what's going on with this war. If I'm to
represent the Light, I should know what its purpose is."

"Well said, Neville!" Sirius grinned, taking a sip of coffee. Lupin glared. He didn't have anything against letting the
children know some things, but having them all together? They were all much too young, and besides, Dumbledore had
specifically said that this meeting was going to be different and extremely important.

"I want to be there too." Ginny said. "We all need to know what to do to support Neville."

"The best thing is to support him as a friend." Lupin said. "Leave the war plans to us. No child should have to bear such
a burden."

Neville frowned down at his toast. It wasn't really his burden, was it? But there was something else there, an attachment
to the responsibilities. He had to represent the Light for the missing icon of the Light, but didn't that make him the leader
of the Light? A leader was only thus if he led others. If Harry Potter was missing, he could not lead, and therefore was not
a leader. Then, didn't that make Neville the leader? It was all rather confusing, but the point of it was that Neville, for all
intents and purposes, now felt like the leader of the Light. So shouldn't that mean he should be allowed at the meeting?

He opened his mouth to speak when Fred (or was it George?) cut him off.

"Mum, it's alright. We'll take care of Neville-"

"-And make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."

Molly looked quickly relieved, but Lupin was eyeing them suspiciously.

"We're not banning you because we think you don't understand. We're banning you because the Order is not a place for
children."

"A war is no place for children either." Sirius huffed.

"Then you should agree then that they shouldn't be exposed at the meeting." Lupin growled. Sometimes Sirius was
alright, but sometimes his stubbornness really put a thorn in his side. Couldn't he see he was only trying to do what was
best for the kids?

"Yeah, as much as I'd like to go, I think this whole Order thing is over my head. I mean, I fought V-voldemort how many
times?" Neville deadpanned. "But by all means, if I'm not allowed to know what he's planning, then don't tell me."

Lupin sighed exasperatedly. "Molly?"

"You heard what Mr. Lupin said. You can't go and that's final." Molly told them. "This is not a personal attack, it just is. Now
finish breakfast and get dressed. Then you can continue helping me to clean out this house. I can't believe how long it's
been this way..."
Sirius, shoulder hunched, grinned sheepishly at the children. "Well, I tried, but maybe it would be best for you all not to
attend. It would be pretty boring anyway. I'm falling asleep half the time."

Fred and George grinned at that, while Ginny frowned, and Neville glared at the table. This was so bloody unfair!
Honestly! Neville fumed silently as he finished up his breakfast. He wondered why Fred and George were acting so
happy about it, and why Ginny seemed to know something he didn't.

Once the kids had gone upstairs, Lupin turned to his fiancé with a small smile.

"I'm proud of you."

Sirius started. "For what? Telling them it'd be boring?"

"No, for letting it go. I know you think it's best for them to know everything, but think of us at their age. They're barely
thirteen. It's not right for them to have to attend battle meetings."

"It's not right for them to grow up in a war."

"A lot of things aren't right." Lupin said quietly. "But at least I've got you."

Lupin put his hand over top Sirius' and squeezed gently.

"I love you, Padfoot."

Sirius grinned from ear to ear. "Love you too, Moony."

Sometime during this time, Molly had left.

.oOo.

"I can't believe they did that!" Neville pouted as they played Exploding Snap. "How can they think of banning me? ME!
Their bloody figurehead!"

"Neville, calm down!" Hermione chastised. "It's just a meeting. We'll learn sooner or later."

"Sooner!" Fred yelled. "Look! George and I invented these last year."

He held out what appeared to be a flesh-coloured ball of string as Neville examined it with disgust.

"Oh, gross! What is that?" Neville asked.

"It's your ticket to the meeting." Ginny said smugly. "Watch." She took the ball from Fred's hand and held it by the end,
letting it unravel until something odd hung at the end.

"Is that-? Is that-?"

"We give you the Extendable Ear!" George announced, hopping on the bed. "With this little trinket we can hear everything
that goes on in that room."

"All we need to do is stand at the top of the stairs and let it hang!" Fred said. "It picks up everything, and we can all listen."

"Wow! How did you guys make this?" Hermione queried, fascinated.

"It took a few tries." George admitted.

"Had awful smelling putty in their room for months." Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.

"Wait, then how come I didn't know about this?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"'Cause you were too busy writing love letters to Lav-Lav." Ginny giggled.

Ron frowned, but didn't comment.

"This is great, you guys!" Neville beamed. "Now we can hear what they're up to!"

"What, you thought we'd let that go so easily?" Fred snorted. "No, we have backup plans."
"So when does the meeting start?" Hermione asked.

"Ten, I think." Ginny said. "We have to eat dinner first, and then by the time everyone arrives..."

"Well, we better start cleaning. I think Sirius found a boggart in the closet."

.oOo.

"Relax, you'll be fine, dear." Narcissa smiled softly as she kissed him chastely on the lips.

"What's not be relaxed about?" Lucius queried. "It shouldn't be much worse than a Death Eater meeting."

"Oh, I rather doubt that." Snape sneered. He was standing by the door, waiting for Lucius to finally get the nerves to leave.
"I've already informed Dumbledore that you'll be making your debut."

"Thank you again, Severus, for doing this for us." Narcissa said. "Now, behave yourself, Lucius. Don't forget about your
Patronus."

"Yes, it's a miracle of Gryffindors to trust on so little." Lucius said. "I should probably be thankful for it now."

"Don't be too thankful." Severus drawled. "They're bloody annoying when they want to be."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. Not from what Draco has said. Well, good luck." Narcissa beamed, nodding towards Severus.

With a resigned nod, the Malfoy lord turned to the door, and the two were out of the Manor and down the lane before they
apparated into a dark, vacant street.

"So this is where the great Order of the Phoenix has its headquarters?"

Snape nodded. "And you haven't even seen it yet." With a flick of his wand, flicked with just the right intention, the
apartment buildings began to separate, and a curious little door began to appear where none previously were.

Lucius watched the door lock into place with some trepidation, wondering why on earth this should make him so uneasy.
He glanced at Severus, thinking suddenly how the man had endured this back and forth for so long.

"Well, we better get on with it." Lucius said.

"Indeed."

The two men strode to the door, robes billowing behind them menacingly, much more fitting of a Death Eater meeting
than any slapdash Order of the Light. Snape tapped the door once with his wand, and pushed it open once he heard the
slight click.

Severus entered first, feeling strangely like a guardian as Lucius trailed behind. Often they had fought for the Dark Lord's
favour, but that time had come to a close. Now it was not about rank or prestige. It was about surviving and gaining the
trust of others, something very hard to put into a competition. Still, it felt odd.

There was no one to greet them as they inched down the first hall. Much of the noise came from the kitchen which was
(irritatingly) not wrapped in a silencing ward.

"I'll go first." Snape said. "I doubt Albus will leave you waiting for long."

Lucius nodded numbly.

The greasy haired man strode forward and placed his hand on the knob, before very deliberately turning it.

"Ah! Severus!" Remus greeted.

Snape nodded towards the werewolf, refraining to sneer at the mutt next to him. At the table there was seated Molly and
Arthur, Remus and Sirius, Kingsley, and Minerva.

"Albus hasn't arrived yet." Minerva stated the obvious. "He's supposed to floo and bring two more."

"Two?" Snape echoed.

"Yes, Nymphadora and Moody." Kingsley said. "I think we could use their help a great deal."
Severus smoothed his face into a mask. Should he reveal Lucius now? Or should he just-?

Suddenly, the floo roared to life, and the headmaster, in brilliant fuchsia robes came tumbling out of it, quickly followed by
a pink-haired woman, and a rough looking man. Oh Salazar! Could he not get a break?

"Ah! I see you're all here!" Albus cried jovially, taking his seat at the head of the table. "May I introduce Alastar Moody and
his protégée Nymphadora Tonks?"

"It's Tonks." she said as her hair turned bright red.

The two took a seat on Dumbledore's right, as Severus took the seat closest to him on the direct opposite end of the
table. As he pulled it out, Albus said, "I believe, Severus, that you have a friend of your own to introduce."

Sirius would have liked to shout: The man has friends? But refrained due to Remus' warning glare- and it was damn
scary.

"You brought a friend?" Arthur questioned uneasily.

"Yes, in fact." Snape said with a curl of his lip. He made his way gracefully over to the door and signaled for Lucius to
enter. The blond licked his lips (not, he would admit, in nervousness) and followed the dark man into the room of the
Light.

The Weasley's looked about ready to have a heart attack as the aristocrat stepped into the room. Arthur was clutching the
arms of his chair, while Molly was clutching her heart. Sirius' eyes bugged out of his socket, whereas Lupin looked mildly
surprised at everything. Kingsley was impassive, preferring to hear the whole story before making judgments, but the
other side of the table wasn't so pleased.

"What's he doing he?" Tonks asked. "Isn't he-?"

"DEATH EATER, I'LL KILL YOU." Moody shouted, standing up abruptly.

"There will be no killing tonight, Alastor." Albus said without much concern. "Please, sit down."

Lucius felt some of his nerves met away to be replaced with anger. How could that old man just make assumptions like
that? He didn't even know him! Granted, he had done some pretty horrible things in the past, but surely the Light was all
about second chances!

"Thank you." Lucius said past the lump in his throat. He took the seat next to Severus, on his right, so that he could
diagonally keep a watch of Moody. Even by Death Eater standards, the man was a force to be reckoned with.

"Well, now that we're all officially here!" Albus began. "I'd like to explain a few things about our latest recruit. This-" he
gestured. "is Lucius Malfoy."

"We bloody know that." Arthur growled. "But what's he doing here?"

"Well, you see, I was just getting to that." Albus said. "I believe he has, what's the phrase? Turned coat."

"Surely you can't just-" Tonks protested.

"How do we know what he's really up to?" Alastor asked. "Unless we perform legilimency on him?"

Lucius was getting slightly panicked now. Legilimency? Surely not!

"Alastor, I would thank you to wait a second." Albus said. "Now, I don't know the specifics, but for protecting his family we
will have gained a valuable asset."

"Or a spy for the Dark!" Alastor insisted. "Look, Albus. I know you are the leader but sometimes people aren't as great as
they seem to be."

"I'd rather not have him in the same house as my kids, Albus." Arthur said. "We need to make sure."

"I'll make sure!" Moody yelled. "Legilimens!"

Even from across the table the force of the spell, coupled with Lucius' utter surprise, had Lucius blasted into the wall.
Lucius' shields were good if not strong, however, and the two men fought over the edges of Lucius' consciousness.
"Protego!" Snape snapped, ending the childish attack with a flick of his wand. Lucius slumped down beside him, rubbing
his temples with an elegant hand. "Albus." Snape growled.

Albus looked deeply distraught. "Perhaps Alastor is right."

"For the children." Molly nodded.

"What will it take to convince you?" Lucius demanded, more than a little pissed off. "Even the Dark Lord has the courtesy
of brushing over Occlumency. How else has Severus survived all these years?"

"Severus?" Albus enquired. "Do you have any ideas?"

"There is nothing he can say that will change what he is!" Alastor growled.

"What if it wasn't words?" Lupin suggested. "What if we got a select few memories? Or maybe veritaserum?"

"After what just happened?" Snape hissed. "I don't even think you'd be stupid enough to give free reign to those who hate
you."

"Hey! He's the one trying to earn our trust, remember?" Sirius said. "Isn't there a spell or something that can determine
the purity of heart?"

"The Patronus charm." Alastor said immediately. "None of the Death Eaters I've ever come across have been able to cast
it."

"Perhaps because they were locked in Azkaban." Sirius muttered darkly.

"Well, if Mr. Malfoy can cast the charm that should be enough, right?" Tonks asked.

"A fully corporeal one." Moody commanded.

"Not even the average wizard can do that!" Lupin said. "Isn't it a bit unfair?"

"Life isn't fair." Kingsley said gently. "But if this is the best option, I don't see why not. You do know the incantation, don't
you, Malfoy?"

Lucius nodded jaggedly.

Snape stiffened beside him. Though Lucius had been able to cast it once, he had failed to mention that it was highly
variable. A sudden tragedy could cause it to disappear, lack of a happy situation could prevent the memories from
manifesting into the spell...he just hoped Lucius' determination could overcome this.

The blond stood up and took out his wand. Instinctually, everyone else had their wands out too, and Snape fought not to
roll his eyes.

"The incantation is Expecto Patronum. Good luck!" Albus said with that damnable twinkle in his eye.

Lucius shut his eyes, feeling incredibly self-conscious as he tried to picture the wedding again. What was there? White
roses, was that it? And, and, and, a vineyard? The memory was hazy, not crisp like before, and he felt as if he were
imagining the whole thing instead of remembering it.

His lips didn't move. He could feel the lack of power before his spell. Quick, what other memory could he grab? Could he
pick? Draco alive? Narcissa loving him? He could feel their eyes burning a hole in him as he continued to think.
Graduation? No. Getting the Dark Mark? Absolutely no.

"What? Can't do it?" Alastor laughed.

"Moody..." Tonks pleaded.

Lucius quickly went through his memories again. His first day at Hogwarts. That would have to be good, right? His
parents took him to the train station where he knew he met a young Altair Castell and probably Narcissa, and maybe
Bellatrix if the two were together...

"Ex...Expecto Patronum!" Lucius whispered. He snapped his silvery eyes open to see a thick wisp of silver coming from
the tip of his wand. Though it wasn't much, everyone (excluding Moody) was fairly gaping in awe. Spells didn't lie. Magic
didn't lie. Perhaps the Malfoy lord had changed after all...Molly looked about to have a heart attack.
"Intention can be faked. Only the Light can cast full bodied patronuses." Moody said smugly.

Severus felt himself grow angry. "Not many wizards, regardless of affiliation, can even cast a noncorporeal patronus. To
demand as much now, even after you have ascertained that his intentions are pure-!"

"Severus, calm down." Albus said with a slight frown. The last thing he needed was for a little war to break out at the
table. "Alastor, is not that enough?"

"Excuse me." Lucius said. "I think I need a minute."

His hand was on the knob, and his throat constricted with a mixture of shame and confusion. He just needed a bit of
fresh air...and a happy memory or two. He opened the door and that was when a chill went through the room.

Someone screamed.

A/N: What is happening? What will happen? Do you like the DADA teacher? Will they accept Lucius? Will Narcissa
realize what's missing? Will Draco discover his father has switched sides? What will happen to Moody?

Will Draco Malfoy Ever Be Saved?

a) Plot twist: Dark All the Way

b ) Naw, he's a weakling

c) I think he'll die

NEXT UP: Many Meetings (This one is full of confrontations! Let's get some answers!)
*Chapter 24*: Many Meetings
A/N1- Hey, it's been a while! Happy New Year! Thank you everyone for the 999 followers and 500+ reviews :D ! Also,
apparently this is in 21 communities? Wow! I don't even got notified, they just appear one day. But I'm super excited
about this!

A/N2- So sorry this chapter is hard to follow. I kept having new ideas and had to fix timeline issues so now you get
this resultant hodgepodge of whatever this is. Sorry! So please, pay attention to the times! I put them in for a reason!
Are they helpful? I'm not sure. But if you're wondering what happened simultaneously, then please, they are there to
help you!

Please enjoy!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 24: May Meetings

Neville, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George were leaning over the rail with two extendable ears in hand.

"Ready Fred?"

"Ready George!"

The twins slowly lowered the contraptions right outside the door, watching as they twitched for the best angle to hear.

"Are you sure?" Hermione whispered. "What if they're not all here-"

The door rattled suddenly, and the extendable ears were quickly reeled back up. Impulsively, Hermione threw a silencing
charm around them (since it was undetectable at their location).

"Shit! That was close!" George whispered excitedly.

The rest of the children took a step back, eager to see but not to be seen.

"Ah, it's just Snape." Neville mumbled.

"Wait, no, who's that behind him?" Ginny asked.

"There's someone behind him?" Ron questioned dumbly.

"Of course there is! Can't you hear they're speaking to each other?"

"Well, not everybody has ears like you, Ginny!"

"Shh! I see them. It's-it's-"

"What Neville? Oh Merlin! Mother's going to have a heart attack!" Fred nearly laughed.

"Hey, I thought you were all buddy-buddy with Draco?" Ron asked shrewdly.

"Well, he's closer to Hasan actually." Neville said. "But that doesn't mean I trust his parents. I mean, his aunt- I-I mean!"

"Shh, Neville." Hermione said. "It's just odd is all. Draco is fine mostly, but his parents, especially his dad isn't too
popular in the wizarding world."

"And how would you know?" Ron sneered.

"Because I, unlike some people, are literate. If you bothered to read the Daily Prophet you would see how many enemies
he has made by bribing his way through everything." Hermione snapped. "I don't see why he's here though. Isn't he
supposed to be You-Know-Who's greatest supporter?"

"Oh, besides Snape?" George grinned. "Don't try and find logic, Hermione. Death Eaters are weird."

"Wait, shh! What's he doing?" Ginny. "He can't just...He can't just be leaving him there! What if he looks up and sees us?"
"As long as we don't make a noise..." Neville said.

They watched Severus enter the room first, leaving Lucius to wander the first floor...Lucius didn't recall ever being in this
house. Granted, the Black family was quite extensive and their properties were many and scattered throughout the globe.
He was curious to say the least, and entered into a little room on the right. To his surprise the entire room was empty,
even shabby. The wood floor was scraped up, as if someone had taken a rake and scrubbed the floor clean. There were
no windows in the room, so the only light came from a dingy little chandelier high on the ceiling. It was quite
uncharacteristic for a Black house, and Lucius was left wondering why it was like it was for all of five seconds, for turning
again, his words were stuck in his throat.

It was the Black Family Tree. The one true record of all Black's in existence. Many faces were burned off, some darker
than others, and Lucius vaguely remembered the reasons why so and so was disinherited. So this was where it was all
this time, Lucius mused. It was just rotting wallpaper in a hidden apartment in muggle London. And yet, it determined
rank, prestige, marriage, life...he stared at the faces which smiled and sneered, and otherwise glared. They didn't speak,
rather, it was a normal photograph, not an enchanted painting. His eyes roamed over the names, easily spotting his
own, besides Narcissa, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan. There was even a little portrait of Draco as an infant. But it
was one on the farthest branch which captivated the Malfoy Lord.

It was a rather handsome face: Blue eyes. Brown hair. And it had but a single word beneath it.

Altair.

.oOo.

After some time, Snape came back out to retrieve the Malfoy patriarch, who had eventually returned into their line of
vision.

"How long do you think it'll take for Mom is start screaming?" George asked.

"Don't know. Malfoy's made it real rough for Dad at work." Fred replied.

They waited some more, before lowering the Extendable Ears down again. From above, they could make out a few loud
sounds but nothing else.

"Isn't there a fine turner or something?" Hermione asked.

"A fine what-?" Ginny wondered.

"To adjust it." she explained.

"Er, well. This is just a prototype." Fred said. "Sorry. We're kind of low on funds."

The crackling reminded Hermione of the radio when it was off the station. It was all together useless, and a muggle
bugging device would have probably worked better...if only Ron wasn't such a git about it.

"Hey, um, is that closet supposed to be opening?" Ginny asked presently.

"What?"

"That closet."

"OH SHIT!" Fred yelled, still under the silencing charm. "We forgot to get the boggart!"

"What? We? There is no We in this! You forgot, oh brother of mine!"

"What do we do? We can't cast spells without bringing attention to us..." Ginny said.

"We're going to have to go down a level and get rid of it before it reaches the door. Mom'll have our heads if that thing gets
inside!"

"Quick!"

The kids fairly flew down the stairs, wands outstretched and ready to go boggart blasting! Hermione cast another
silencing spell around them, before slicing open the door with a cutting curse. Something large and dark came flying out
of the small room and into the hallway with an indeterminable amount of speed.
"Riddikulus!" They all shouted together, but it seemed to bounce off it as it ricocheted into the wall. The poor blob of a
creature didn't know what to do. A spider? A teacher? A broken broom? Broken wand? Broken heart? Dead child? Their
fears were as mercurial as a tornado. Disastrous, ugly, unpredictable.

Just as it seemed to burst into nonbeing, the door to the kitchen opened just a fraction, and the little boggart hoped at the
chance...

.oOo.

"Excuse me." Lucius said. "I think I need a minute."

His hand was on the knob , and his throat constricted with a mixture of shame and confusion. He just needed a b it of fresh
air...and a happy memory or two. He opened the door and that was when a chill went through the room.

Someone screamed.

Lucius didn't understand at first when Molly Weasley let out a blood curdling scream. He had never particularly liked
hearing others scream, preferring to use a silencing spell to avoid the earache. But when he felt a cold, clammy hand on
his own, he suspected that perhaps there had been a reason after all.

Lucius whipped around as the ice encased his soul. The dementor's breath rattled, in and out, in and out, but something
wasn't quite right. But he didn't think as he pulled out his wand and aimed it at the dementor. He didn't think as he
screamed "Expecto Patronum" for all it was worth. And he especially did not think when the dementor transformed into a
curious broken dagger...

A bright silver peacock erupted from his wand, shedding its radiant light on everyone and charging down whatever the
creature was. The bird was regal, majestic, but also a bit smug. Take that, Alastor! Lucius thought.

The thing exploded in a million motes, leaving the glowing bird behind.

"Well, well. He can do it after all." Alastor sneered.

"Did you plan this?" Severus screamed at Albus accusingly.

"Severus! He wouldn't-" Minerva protested half-heartedly. In all honesty, she had no idea how she felt about Albus these
days.

"Then-?"

"It was me!" Neville said, rushing into the doorway.

"No, it was all of us!" Ginny said, dragging the other children with her. The only one looking remotely abashed was
Hermione, and she wasn't even flushed.

"What was that?" Molly asked shakily.

"Not a dementor." Remus said, "A boggart."

"Wait, you mean...?" Molly rounded on the twins, red faced and very angry. "I TOLD YOU BOYS TO CLEAN UP!"

"We did, Mom!"

"Yeah, honestly! We just forgot!"

"You forgot? You nearly gave your mother a heart attack!" Arthur yelled.

"Well, let's not be too hard on them. We have now determined that Mr. Malfoy is trustworthy." Kingsley said.

"Thanks." Alastor sneered. He looked like he wanted to tear the twins apart.

"So does that mean we can stay?" Ginny asked hopefully, seeking out the most sympathetic of them all- Tonks.

"Yes." Sirius, Tonks, and Kingsley said at the same time as Minerva, Snape, Lupin and Moody said "No."

"Well, how about the newest member gets to decide?" Albus said happily. "What do you think, Lucius?"

The blond kept a blank face, but inside he was fuming. Either way he was damned to gain enemies...but then, he would
also gain allies, which was more than he had now.

"I do not have grudge against them staying."

"They're children!" Molly protested.

"Excellent choice!" Albus said, completely ignoring her.

"Really?" Neville asked with nervous excitement.

Snape wanted to say something about his poor listening skills, but didn't want to risk bringing more disfavor on their
heads.

"Yes, you may sit at the end over there, right between Tonks and Minerva." Albus told them. As the kids hurried to sit,
Lucius was busy catching his breath. Salazar! This was even worse than a Death Eater meeting! All you had to do there
was grovel! Now he had to defend himself at every turn! It was damn infuriating, not to mention tiring...and pointless.

"Now that everyone is finally here," Albus announced with a twinkle in his eye. "I thought we'd discuss a few new
developments and a few old ones."

Which told them absolutely nothing.

"As many of you know, Harry Potter has been missing since age eleven."

Lucius was surprised but didn't show it. Eleven? How was that even possib le? Had the b oy run away? Had Dumb ledore
not b een keeping track?

"When will we begin the search again?" Minerva pressed.

"Well, in light of Lord Voldemort's return (Lucius flinched) I find it difficult to search without raising suspicion."

"Of what?" Neville asked.

Albus shifted uneasily. "People look to you for hope, Neville. But as soon as they see us searching for Mr. Potter, they will
believe he is our only hope."

"Isn't he?" Lucius asked genuinely.

"It's absurd to be putting that type of burden on a child's shoulders. One, whom you have lost because you never
bothered to check on him." Minerva huffed.

"Oh, I'm sure he just ran away." Molly said meekly.

"And never came back?" Moody barked harshly. "I bet you his guardians gave him away or threw him out more likely."

"That's terrible!" Tonks and Hermione moaned.

"So we're not resuming the search, is that it, Albus?" Minerva asked hotly.

Lucius was surprised at the bitterness in her voice, but he supposed every organization could not be daisies and roses
all the time, even if they did try to make a united front.

"That is to say, not publically..." Albus fumbled for words. "But I do intend to search covertly. I've already contacted some
local orphanages."

"The boy knows magic, Dumbledore. Surely he's bewitched the caretakers." Kingsley said.

All during this time, Snape remained uncharacteristically silent, but many chalked that up to be his unwillingness to ruin
his image in front of his students. Lucius knew better. Snape knew something, and he was bloody well going to find out.

"Well, whatever you think is best." Sirius sighed. "I'm not giving up hope."

"Me neither." Lupin said quietly. "But the odds of him, even if he is alive..."

"The Hogwarts book hasn't crossed out his name yet." Minerva told them pointedly.

"Then it is only a matter of time." Albus said smoothly. "Now, for the next order of business. You know of the prophecy
between the Boy-Who-Lived (he nodded to Neville) and the Dark Lord?"

Everyone nodded, wondering why he had brought this up.

"It has come to my attention that my memory isn't as sharp as before."

"But, Albus. You have a pensieve." Minerva said, not comprehending.

"No, I am worried I have placed it in my pensieve too late, where my mind might have already twisted a few words here
and there... such as Harry Potter originally being the Bo-Who-Lived." With those words, Mineva, Snape, and Neville knew
that the headmaster was talking about something radically different, since each of them knew the headmaster had not
indeed mistaken the prophecy...It was only Severus who truly understood the implications. The headmaster wasn't
worried about the prophecy. He was worried that someone had messed with his head...and he also desired to see the
prophecy again.

"Why can't you apply to see it then?" Molly asked.

"Because the D.O.M. is secret, that's what." Tonks said.

"As a governor- perhaps?" Albus said, turning towards Lucius. Suddenly Lucius felt rather like a tool to be used, but if
this was what it took...

"Not even that bootlicking scum can get inside." Moody told them bluntly. "It's too valuable for visitors to be coming and
going."

"Then who has access?" Hermione asked.

"Unspeakables." Fred whispered. "No one knows a thing about them except that they work in the lowest level of the
Ministry."

"So you want to break into the Ministry?" Snape queried dubiously. "Albus, with all due respect, do you want the Ministry to
come after you as well?"

"That is why we're not going, at least, not personally." Albus said with a twinkle in hisice blue eyes. "I have reason to
believe that Voldemort (Lucius flinched) does too."

"How?" Snape asked.

"Because I will put in the Daily Prophet that I may has misremembered the prophecy, which will inevitably lure the Dark
Lord to ponder why he shouldn't listen to the original prophecy himself."

"What are you planning?" Lupin asked openly. "We'll help any way we can."

"The plan is not overly complicated." Albus began with some passion. "I plant the seed that I had misheard the prophecy,
when in reality I have only, possibly, misremembered a word or two, causing Voldemort (another flinch) to prepare his
own attack on the Ministry. When he does attack the Ministry, I want you, Lucius or Severus, to retrieve the prophecy in the
chaos that will ensue when the Order ambushes them. From there, you will escape with the prophecy, the Order will
catch the Death Eaters, and hopefully it will end without much loss on either side."

Except, it wasn't so simple, Snape thought. Albus really was worried about his memory, Neville really wasn't the Boy-Who-
Lived, and the only way to retrieve the prophecy was to have Harry Potter himself come and take it from the shelf...And
even if the Dark Lord was killed? There were horcruxes...

"How will we take it from the shelf?" Lucius asked, echoing Snape's thoughts. "You must know they are protected by
blood wards."

"I'm assuming Voldemort (Lucius flinched) will take it down himself. From there, it is only a matter of taking it out of his
possession." Albus answered. "I cannot express to you enough how essential this is." How essential it is that my
memories have not b een tampered with..."Well, that is all."

Moody and Tonks flooed out first, leaving the rest of the Order to sit around awkwardly.

"Wow. That was something." Neville grinned happily to his friends. Snape was vaguely reminded of James Potter, but
knew it wasn't fair to keep imposing James on everyone that annoyed him...

"So, welcome to the Order." Remus said, getting up. "Remus Lupin."
"Lucius, a pleasure."

"That was some patronus you had there. Not many people have a patronus that strong."

"It must have been the memory." Lucius said offhandedly.

"So what happens now?" Hermione asked George. "He just gives his orders and leaves?"

"Well, it is called the Order," George grinned. "And it was a pretty ambitious plan too."

"Alright, now. Get to bed, the lot of you!" Molly shouted.

"But Mom! It's true! That's a tall order even for Snape." George cried.

"Professor Snape." Moly said kindly. "And he's always doing these things for us. Why don't you thank him?"

Snape and George made eye contact for a millisecond, and George was already scrambling up the steps.

"Er, really rather not. Really appreciate it though. G'night!"

Arthur chuckled at Severus' bewildered expression, and even Lucius relaxed a bit.

"So you're a couple now?" Lucius enquired of Remus, since Sirius didn't seem too keen on speaking with him.

"Yes, have been for a few months now. Time flies I guess." Remus said mildly.

"Indeed." Lucius said, deep in thought. Severus thought it best to leave now, before Lucus became too depressed in
front of everyone. They might have believed his "patronus equals purity" thing, but they weren't even close to accepting
him yet...

Minerva watched as everyone exited and sighed. Was she the only one with faith in Harry Potter?

.oOo.

Nagini liked meetings. They usually entailed food. Fresh, delicious food that ran red with blood. She also liked it when
her Master stroked her scales. Not only did she get a free massage, but it terrified the humans as well, as if her Master
would let her eat them, she scoffed. They'd taste terrible anyway...

Nagini slithered into the Lestrange meeting hall, where a long black wood table stood in the middle of the lightless
room. Her Master sat in a high throne (he refused to call it a highchair) though he didn't really need it anymore. Over the
past month or so, her Master had begun to grow again...It was not normal growing. No normal person had ruby red
pupils, papery thin skin, nonexistent noses...and a head of scarily attractive hair. Viewed from the back, her Master may
have passed for normal...if the viewer was blind. Bellatrix, however, had no complaints about his dreamy hair, even if it
was on the body of some mutant boy-man. The present Dark Lord was now four feet high with an angular head, and
disproportioned body. He was ugly, yes, but that was the least of his problems.

"Fenrir? Any news to report of the Redclaw packs?"

The hairy man smiled, showing all his teeth. "They will pledge allegiance shortly, right after the present Alpha dies."

Voldemort tilted his head slightly, licking his nonexistent lips. Nagini slithered under the table and up her Master's chair,
letting her head rest next to his. On cue, he reached a bony hand up to pet her nudging nose, sending shivers throughout
the old crowd.

"Why so long?" Voldemort enquired lightly. "Why can't you sway the present Alpha to our plans?"

"My lord, I tried but..."

Nagini licked her Master's ear, as if whispering some nasty torture for the wolfman.

"You did not try hard enough then." the Dark Lord hissed with gleaming red eyes. "CRUCIO!"

The man released a blood curdling scream, for though he was good at inflicting pain, he was a coward at heart. Nagini
rolled her eyes. The spell was mild. Surely it couldn't hurt that much?

"My-my Lord! It was not my fault! Dumbledore-! The Order-! Sent Remus Lupin ahead of me!"
The Dark Lord stilled. Dumbledore would never delve into other magical sects without a purpose...Albus had known
what he was going to do! Albus knew he was alive and recruiting...Sure, he had left a few major hints, such as leaving
that Castell boy alive after he had witnessed Quirrell, him possessing Quirrell, and then leaving Quirrell to die in the
chamber...But for Dumbledore to send a scout in the same place, at the exact time? Now that was eerie. The chances of
there being a spy was slim- Every one of his Death Eaters were bound to him for life. Not even a noble Gryffindor would
ever make that deal!

Voldemort cast the Cruciatous again and the thought from his mind. He'd think of it later, but for now, he had to overcome
his less than appealing appearance and regain his followers' complete obedience.

"Need I say that another excuse like that will not suffice in the future?"

"Y-yes, my Lord." Fenrir whimpered and withdrew.

"Bellatrix..." Voldemort whispered, addressing the simply simpering witch. "Have you talked to your nephew at all?"

"Yes, my Lord!" Bellatrix swooned. "He's ab solutely delighted!"

"You lie! You have not seen him at all. He has been locked in his room ever since I've met with him."

Bellatrix flinched back. "But-! My Lord! How can he be anything other than completely happy?"

"He could be a traitor." Voldemort said simply.

"No, my Lord! Draco's not like that...! He's adored you since birth!"

"Then we shall see." he hummed pensively. "Will he figure out that no matter which side he fights for, he'll fall right into
my hands? The Malfoys have served me faithfully throughout the generations. I own them."

"Oh? And the Lestrange's, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked sweetly.

Rodolphus tried not to cringe. He knew their marriage had been a farce, but he at least expected to get an heir out of it.
Now he was chained for life by propriety to a deranged, Voldemort-loving chit. And still without an heir. Still, it hurt to see
her like this with another...

"Yes..." Voldemort answered carefully. "I daresay you and Rodolphus can be put to good use. I need you to spy on the
Malfoy's for me...I think they have lost some possessions of mine."

"What were they, if I may be so bold?" Bellatrix asked.

"A book of little importance and a cup." Voldemort disdained.

His Death Eaters were puzzled. Was he being cryptic? Or was he finally cracking?

"And me, my Lord?" Barty Crouch Junior asked obsequiously.

"You know the plan. You know what's at stake. Bellatrix-"

"Yes, my Lord?" she asked hurriedly.

"Aid Mr. Crouch in the raid tonight. And whatever you do, do not used Morsmorde."

Bellatrix nodded eagerly as Barty Jr. lowered his head. Yes, there were stakes...but they were going to win. And that brat
of a boy? Draco, was it? Well, let's just say that Barty had his own plans for him...

.oOo.

7am July 30

Hasan woke with a killer headache. Urgh! He grabbed his forehead with both hands and cringed. What the hell had
happened last night? He hadn't bumped into anything...he hadn't fought anything...He couldn't even remember what he
dreamed about...With a frustrated sigh, Hasan slipped out of bed and strode down the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast.

Altair was there, happily eating a buttered croissant with gusto.

"Morning." Hasan muttered, hand still on his head.

"Something the matter?" Altair asked, eyes raising from his food.

"I- I don't quite know how to explain. It's like I hit my head on a freight train..." Hasan grabbed an orange from the bowl,
and began to peel it, sinking his fingernails into the pungent skin.

"Does it hurt?" Altair asked, voice tinged with worry.

"It's more like I'm sore." Hasan sighed. "But it should pass. Do you remember if I hit myself last night?"

Altair shoved the rest of the croissant in his mouth, holding a finger up to signal he was still chewing. After about five
minutes, in which Hasan had already devoured half the orange, Altair was ready to speak.

"Well, that's terrible. I'm sorry you're in discomfort."

Hasan bit into the fruit. He knew Altair cared, but at the moment, he was in too much...discomfort. In all honesty it wasn't
like pain. It wasn't sharp, rather, it was muddy and heavy and altogether tiring. Whatever happened, he hoped it wouldn't
happen again.

"You have that Longbottom boy's party today." Altair remarked nonchalantly.

"So I do." Hasan muttered dryly. He sighed. "Sorry I'm being such a pain. I'm just- I don't know."

"Don't worry about it." Altair said gently. "How about you go back to bed and I'll wake you before you need to go?"

Hasan did so, eager to lie down once again. What he didn't notice was the way Altair's eyes darkened, and the way the
man fidgeted in his seat...

.oOo.

12am July 30 (Previously)

Severus Snape was more than a little concerned for the headmaster. Someone had messed with his mind, and Severus
had a niggling feeling he knew just who...

Tonight he was to meet him.

There was a great many things which Severus wanted to speak with Altair about. Hasan for one. Lucius for another.
Dumbledore definitely. And the Dark Lord- if he was lucky.

He apparated to the normal bar around midnight called La Lune d'Or. For muggles they certainly had an imagination.
The sign had a picture of a unicorn on it, looking towards the moon. If only magic were as innocent. Severus walked
briskly down the street, knowing the way scarcely better than last time. He had rarely been over to the Estate, but every so
often, Altair would invite him inside for a cup of tea.

Tonight, however, he was inviting himself.

Snape came upon the hidden street, disguised as a forest, and easily made his way to the door. He knocked twice- the
door swung open before the third. There was Altair, smiling pleasantly without a care in the world. For a supposedly
dead follower of the Dark Lord he sure had a way of keeping hidden. Why, Severus half expected he'd let anyone inside
his house if only they knocked, even Voldemort if he was polite about it. Severus' first reaction was to hiss, Idiot, in his
mind. But something held him back. With everything he had learned and suspected, surely Severus could not continue to
view the man in that light. He was a mastermind in his own way, and even Severus had to respect the fact that Altair had
found an Out from the Dark Lord's service.

"Good morning, Severus!" Altair beamed.

"Indeed. It's barely morning." Severus commented tiredly.

"So, Severus, what is it you wanted to talk about?" Altair asked. "Oh, please, have a seat."

Snape's lip curled up at the sight of the flamingo-pink snake on the couch before tentatively sitting beside it. The snake
seemed a bit miffed and slithered off onto the floor, changing to a light brown as it did so. While this was fascinating,
Severus simply did not have the time to contemplate Altair's choice in pets.

"A few things actually." Severus said, unable to make eye contact with the man. If he was as good as Severus suspected
at memory manipulation, then perhaps he had better not make eye contact...it was harder to defend against than a spell
like ob liviate.

"Oh? Well, let me get the tea out. Chamomile? I've also got chai. Green, if you insist-"

Snape sighed. They were about to discuss the fate of the whole world and here they were, asking each other about
tea..."Chamomile is fine..." Severus said, putting his hand up to stop the other's rambling.

Altair nodded and went into the kitchen to pour each of them a cup. Then he went to sit down on the large armchair in
front of the fire. As Snape took the steaming cup, he faintly sniffed it for potions. It seemed clean.

"So, what is it, Severus? The Dark Lord?" Altair wondered, no longer wearing the happiest of smiles.

"Yes and no." Snape murmured, taking a slow draught of his tea. Staring at the fire he said, "I actually have a proposition
for you."

"For what may I ask?" Altair queried, eyes narrowing.

"I have news concerning Hasan, and you have information concerning the headmaster's, er, state of mind." he bit out.

"Ah...I see." Altair sighed. "Well, no need to make a deal. I'll answer all your questions. Consider it a thank you for looking
after Hasan."

Snape shifted slightly in his seat. "Very well. First I must ask, where did you find the boy? And when?"

Altair leaned back to get comfortable. "He was at Penelope's House one day. I assumed he was raised there, but the
next, the day when I met you in Hogsmeade, he had made a run for it."

"Why?" Snape eyes, eyebrows furrowing.

"Fear, I think. Of being adopted and abandoned again...Anyway, I found him in the Leaky Cauldron. I had traced him with
my Magical Sight and his aura. Oh, it was delightful. It was emerald green- I can't describe it. I don't think you'd be able to
imagine it either."

"It's indescribable." Snape murmured, remembering the exact shape and shade of Lily's eyes.

"Yes, and powerful. His power was so pure, though. I was drawn to it..."

"For what reason?" Severus questioned.

"He was powerful.-"

"Not for love?" Snape asked innocently.

Altair remained silent.

"You had no other motivation in finding a magical child?" Severus prodded. "You just happened to walk into Penelope's
House, a highly isolated hovel of a building and find a magical boy, who later ran away, causing you to track him through
the labyrinthine streets of London, suffering agonizing pain from not, indeed, taking the Muted Sights potion I had so
carefully brewed for you?"

Altair bit his lip. Only a blind man could see that Severus did not already know too much. "Severus. How much of this do
you truly want to know?"

There was no thought involved. "All of it." he answered automatically.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"Are going to obliviate me like the headmaster?" Severus asked icily without making eye contact.

There was a silence like no other.

"No." Altair decided. "I must tell someone. Severus, please understand. Hasan is my life. I love him as my son, as my
own. I'd never do anything to hurt him..." Here, the man took a deep breath and raised his blue eyes, "But at first I did not
know him. At first all I saw was power. Power which was needed for the memories. I know you have found them already.
How much do you really wish to know, Severus? Do you want to know how I destroyed Lucius' life? How I set him up with
Narcissa? Made him take the Dark Mark? Had him bear a son? How I nearly killed him, but at last minute decided to
erase the man I loved and all we held dear? All of this? All just so that I could come out as a savior...Severus, look at me!
I swear I will not tamper with your recollection, though I've grown quite good at it."

Severus warily tore his eyes away from the crackling fire to face the Castell Lord. Altair sat there, with a forlorn look in his
old gray eyes. Every inch of him screamed sincerity, and Severus immediately knew it to be true.

"Tell me all of it."

Altair sighed. "Very well...but first I must start from the beginning. The very beginning." He swallowed audibly then took a
sip of tea to stall. "After Hogwarts, Lucius and I were research partners. We discovered that all witches and wizards had
the same amount of potential magical power, but the amount they could access differed with a few key factors such as
maturity and their environment. At the time, the Dark Lord was rallying people to his side with logic such as pureblood
supremacy. With this research, we would surely be killed...well, it was rather inevitable. Lucius comes from a Dark family.
I come from a Dark family. We were invited to a meeting one day and you don't ever stop coming once you go. I know how
you think of me. I'm an idiot, a fool. The Dark Lord thought so too. He couldn't use me for anything useful. I'm a slow
learner, you know- I couldn't duel half as well as Lucius. I couldn't fight or heal or brew. The Dark Lord wanted me to spy
on Dumbledore- take up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. Well," Altair laughed, "The Dark Lord
was right about one thing- I've got a knack for falling into scrapes..."

"But you didn't take the job." Snape interjected. "You tried to kill yourself...Why?"

"It's terrible. I cannot...Severus, you are good at Occlumency but this is more important than your life. I cannot condemn
you like this...this secret-"

Snape sharply inhaled. "Horcruxes."

Altair blinked mouth hanging agape. Instead of exclaiming how it was that Severus knew, he simply said, "This is earlier
than I expected..."

Severus shot him a shrewd look. "Earlier, how? You didn't mess with time, did you? Oh, merciful Salazar!" He could just
imagine Altair accidentally poking a hole through the space time continuum!

"Haha, no." Altair chuckled. "No, even I know my limits. I met with Dumbledore a long time ago to discuss the Magic-
Blood research. During that time he tried to Legilimize me. For the Greater Good, you know? He knew I was from a Dark
family and knew I went to the meetings. He learned about the horcruxes before I even knew he was in my mind...the first
thing he wanted to do was tell the aurors. You think I'm stupid? Telling the aurors would cause total chaos! Everyone
would want to get their hands on one! Auction them off, or use them to blackmail the Dark Lord- as ludicrous as that
sounds. I don't think badly of Albus; he was just a little excited by the news. But I couldn't let this happen. What if others
decided to make horcruxes as well? It was a practice most nearly forgotten! It was best to keep it secret."

"So you ob liviated him?" Severus asked aghast. "Just like that. Imagine, Altair Castell ob liviating the most powerful
wizard of the century..."

He nodded. "I took the word Castell from his mind. I couldn't let him remember me...and once I realized how dangerous
the information was, there was no way I could let Lucius walk around with it..."

"But you were emotionally attached. You couldn't simply obliviate him." Severus said in wonder. "So you took the
memories and planted them...in Hasan..."

"They were actually in the dagger for a while before I could move them. The power generated from the dagger because of
my love for Lucius kept the memories alive- but it was also painful. How could I keep remembering the man I loved when
he was married...and had a child? Remember what I said about power? Hasan has the same amount as anyone else,
but the way he is able to use it...He has more access to it than anyone else on this planet, except maybe the Dark Lord or
Albus. He wouldn't even notice the energy it took to sustain the memories..."

"But he has." Snape said. "This year. Whenever the dementors get close he experiences the memories."

"Ah, I see. Dark creatures do tend to shake the brain." Altair said thoughtfully, though mostly unperturbed. "So he knows
about me and Lucius then?"

"Yes." Snape sighed, wondering why the man wasn't as upset as he should be.

"Good." Altair all but murmured. "Because I need him to understand as we go along so that at the end it won't be as
terrible."
At the end? What is he talking ab out? Severus thought.

"There is one other thing which I wish to talk of." Severus told him. "I see you have a snake so you must already know."

"Know what? That he's an animgus?" Altair guessed.

Severus sighed. This would be so much easier if Altair's intelligence was spread out across a normal range of general
activities...

"No."

"Then what? Severus?"

Snape took a deep breath. As much as Hasan was originally a power source, he knew that Altair had come to love him
as his own, and now? There was no telling how Altair would react.

"Hasan. No last name?"

"He was raised in an orphanage, Severus. Haven't you been listening?"

"But you haven't asked for it?" Severus confirmed.

"He's a Castell now." Altair said, affronted.

"Yes, but before."

"I don't understand."

"And is Hasan the name he came with as well?"

"Are you saying Hasan isn't...Hasan?"

"I'm saying that he wasn't born under that name."

"Severus." Altair said warningly. His blue eyes flashed in agitation. He could take bad news, but suspense? That was
one of the reasons why he tended to just act rather than wait.

"He's Harry Potter." Severus said very definitely.

Altair spit out his tea. "Harry Potter?" he exclaimed. "Severus, he doesn't even look like James!"

"You're the expert on magic." Severus retorted. "You tell me how a boy without a glamour can manage to fool nearly
everyone. The entire world has gone crazy over Mr. Potter's disappearance. He has slipped under Albus' nose too,
although I suspect your obliviation had something to do with it."

Altair nodded. "I suspect so too. Luck! Sometimes I wonder if it's really a curse. Although, I suppose it would have been
worse had Dumbledore noticed him. They'd most likely discover me and that's not ideal for anyone...But you must be
joking! I can't believe that Hasan is your missing savior! No one can sustain another appearance this long and sustain
the memories."

"He's more powerful than most, you said."

"Yes well..." Altair muttered affronted, "Dumbledore is more powerful than most! That doesn't make him the Boy-Who-
Lived!"

"Altair. I am asking you to focus here!" Severus said harshly. "Is there nothing that will convince you?" Snape sighed.
"Nothing in his aura? You have seen the Dark Lord's aura once. Can you sense anything in his curse scar? For Salazar's
sake! It must be full of dark magical residue!"

"I-" Altair stopped. Yes, there was something. The red flecks.

"Yes?" Snape asked eagerly, obsidian eyes looking at him for the first time, scrutinizing him for clues. "What are you
remembering?"

Quickly, Altair thought of another reason. "Hissing. I thought it was just Tina, but she never hisses with me. He's a
parselmouth, isn't he? Just like the Dark Lord?"
"Yes. I suspect some of the Dark Lord's powers were transferred over from the curse."

"Transferred, you say?" Altair squeaked.

"Altair, are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. It's just, a lot to take in. I believe you."

Severus looked at him oddly. "Is there anything else you would like to add?"

"Go."

"Wait, what?"

"I said go!" Altair shouted. "I need to do something. Before he wakes."

"Altair, it's one in the morning!" Snape protested.

"Yes, and I'm a bit short-tempered, so if you would kindly give me my potion and remove yourself from my home?" Altair
rose with grace and began to walk upstairs...

tbc...

Severus finally got around to talking with Altair!

So what did you think? What will happen? What are the red flecks?
*Chapter 25*: Welcome Back
A/N: The mystery of Hasan's mind will be quickly advancing through the rest of the story! Luna gives Hasan a gift,
Neville worries. Dumbledore loses his temper, and isn't it just curious that the Sorting hat is the single entity in
Hogwarts which has been inside everyone's mind?

And there is a VOTE at the end! (let's make it to 600!)

Return of Emerald

Chapter 25: Welcome Back

Present. 4pm July 30.

Hasan woke up again to Tina licking his face.

:Ugh! What is it, Tina?:

:It is nearly time to go!:

Hasan nearly fell out of bed, casting tempus with his wand as he did so.

:It's only four, Tina. Altair would have gotten me up in half an hour.:

Tina seemed to laugh. He scales turned bright blue as she hissed back,

:But what fun would that be?:

Hasan glared playfully before hopping back on the bed. He noticed that his head wasn't hurting so much.

:Hey, Tina. What happened last night?:

:Last night or this morning?: Tina asked.

Hasan thought she was being funny so he glared. In all actuality, Tina was being perfectly honest. Altair had never sent
her away last night.

:Last night, preferably.:

Tina sighed and wrapped around Hasan's arms to rest against his neck.

:Nothing out of the ordinary. Why? Are you hurting?:

:Just a slight ache.:

Hasan shrugged and scooped her up. :I'm setting you down now.:

Tina huffed. :Obviously.:

While Tina was curling up on Hasan's pillow, Hasan himself was getting ready for the upcoming party. He combed back
his hair, letting it fall to his waist before changing into a dark pair of muggle jeans and a grey shirt.

:Dapper!: Tina hissed with one eyelid opened.

Hasan grinned.

After a few minutes, Altair finally shouted up the stairs that he should probably think of getting up now. By that time,
Hasan was all but ready and he sat on his bed, wondering absently what he should do with the diadem still in his trunk.
He could hardly involve Altair. After everything the man had done to him? He could hardly trust him, even if he did care
about him deep inside.

Well, there was telling Snape...perhaps. The less people who knew the better, Hasan thought. And besides, what would
Snape make of his ability to sense the horcruxes? They'd lock him up for sure...Not that St. Mungo's wasn't a nice facility
and all. It just seemed lonely.
"Hasan! It's almost time to go! Are you ready?" Altair shouted again.

"Yes. One minute." Hasan called down, as he grabbed the wrapped gift beside him. In all honesty, the person he most
wanted to see was Luna. Perhaps because she was the only one who saw him. He was also curious to see Draco...the
last vision he had was at the end of the school year and the Dark Lord seemed pissed enough at his parents to use the
boy in some dangerous task. If Draco were given such a task, well, that was worrying in itself. The fact that Draco knew
him more than most people, didn't exactly help either. With the right help, Draco would be able to string together key
facts, such as Hasan's presence in the chamber with the stone, and Hasan's role in the chamber of secrets...Still, Draco
wasn't an evil person. No one was, when you got into the philosophy of it. But really, what could Draco possibly do that
Hasan couldn't handle?

He was, after all, only a contact...Friends? What did the word mean anyway? He tried to ignore the pull on his guilt when
he thought of the dagger. The same dagger which had saved his life. Surely that was worth something? Hasan sighed
and descended the stairs.

"Alright. I'm ready." Hasan announced as he entered the salon.

Altair was standing with a large smile on his face.

"Have a nice time, Hasan. I mean it, and then we'll celebrate your birthday tomorrow."

With that, the portkey (an old shoe) was thrust into his hands. Within a dizzying few seconds, Hasan had landed right into
the middle of a wheat field. Whoosh! A broom passed overhead, accompanied by screams and laughter.

"Hey, it's Hasan!" Fred yelled, diving back for the boy. Hasan barely had time to run out of the way when Fred had grabbed
him under his arms and flew him rapidly towards a rather lopsided house.

As they neared, Hasan could make out the bemused faces of George, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Daphne. Still in the
field were Ron, Tracey and Lavender. It was amazing how a little sport was able to knock the house prejudices from
Ron's mind. He wasn't a bad person really, just, a little thick sometimes.

"Hey, Hasan, how are you?" Neville asked warmly as Hasan stumbled to the ground none too gracefully.

"Good as ever, I suppose." Hasan murmured quietly, thinking back to his headache that morning.

"Oh, I've missed you!" Daphne shouted and nearly threw herself at him, wrapping the stiff boy in a hug. "It's been such a
long summer!"

Neville, beside her, looked away back onto the field as the four flew about.

"Hey Hasan." Neville greeted. "How has your summer been so far?"

"Relatively uneventful." Hasan sighed. "And you?"

"Still getting over the events of last year." Neville frowned. "Gran can't stop mentioning it."

"Well of course not!" Hermione screamed. "You saved the school from a basilisk! A breed of snake that was thought to be
extinct!"

"Technically anyone can breed one though..." Daphne muttered, causing Neville's lips to quirk up in a smile.

"I, for one, don't blame Mrs. Longbottom! Neville, you were a hero!" Ginny crooned. "Draco and Hasan really owe you their
lives."

"I have no doubt they'd save me if our situations were reversed," Neville said confidently.

Oh, if only you knew, Hasan thought. He shook his head at the irony, turning his attention back onto the field. Let him
b elieve, it makes no difference.

Suddenly, a shape materialized above the field before coming barreling down with a shout.

"Hey! It's Malfoy!" Daphne shouted.

"Whoa there! Where's that Malfoy grace?" Tracey laughed loudly, diving for the blond on her broom. Like Fred had done,
Tracey grasped Draco beneath his arms, flying the boy towards the house.
"Tracey!" Draco groaned. Why couldn't Longbottom have set the portkey to a normal location? Why fifty feet above some
godforsaken wheat field?

"Draco!" Daphne called with mock sweetness. "Hang on! You're doing so well!"

Draco huffed and rolled his eyes as Tracey landed beside the group. Her strawberry blonde hair was in windswept
tangles down her back.

"That's enough flying for me today!" Tracey grinned.

"Tell me about it!" Draco moaned. He wasn't in the best of moods today, particularly because it was the first time he was
to meet Hasan after...after the events of the summer.

Hasan knew this and narrowed his eyes. Just because he was determined not to lose Draco as a 'friend' didn't mean he
wasn't taking precautions. He still didn't know what exactly the Malfoy heir was told to do, only that anything coming from
the Dark Lord probably wasn't good for everyone involved...

Hasan listened as Draco greeted everyone in a lifeless voice. When he finally came to Hasan, his silver eyes were
clouded and unsure.

"Hello Draco." Hasan said in a voice that betrayed nothing.

"Hello Hasan."

The two boys were silent for a moment, unable to do much else than stare at the other. Draco looked like he hadn't slept
in ages, well, more like felt like. To anyone who didn't know Draco, he looked like an average healthy boy. He had good
skin, healthy hair, a relatively composed demeanor. But Hasan knew him better than that. Draco was nervous, tired, had
a halfhearted smile, and a shrug for every other word.

"About last year, Hasan, I'm really sorry." he finally mumbled.

Hasan's eyebrows rose in surprise. "But it was all Neville."

"But you were involved, and I'm sorry."

Hasan checked his peripheral vision and was pleased to see that no one was paying them any attention. "You're
forgiven."

But inside, Hasan was thinking it had just begun.

After some time, Ron, Lavender, and Fred touched ground looking thoroughly flushed.

"So is everyone here?" Ron asked, out of breath.

"Luna!" Fred said.

"And Theo!" George added.

"But I want to go inside!" Ginny whined.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Well, we can't let them plummet to the ground!"

"Who made the portkeys anyway?" Hermione wondered.

"Don't—"

"—Look at us!" The twins grinned.

Tracey sighed. "Then I suppose we should stay out here."

"How about we have ourselves a game of quidditch?" George asked, "Five on five and one referee?"

"I'll sit out." Hermione offered. "I've never flown before."

"Alright then!" George grinned. "Thanks, Hermione. So Ron, Lavender, Draco, Fred, and Tracey on one team, against
Hasan, Daphne, Neville, Ginny and me!'
"Accio quidditch supplies!" Fred yelled, causing ten brooms, a few clubs, and many multicolored balls to speed towards
them.

"Alright, rules!" George announced. "There aren't enough of us to have specific parts, but one goal post will be the fence,
and the other will be the shed. If anyone catches the snitch, that team wins. All the quaffles will be twenty points each,
okay?"

"Yeah, good idea, oh brother of mine!" Fred whistled.

"Ooh, this'll be fun!" Tracey grinned.

Within seconds, the entire group was in the air, shouting, laughing, and generally trying to knock each other to the
ground. Hasan wasn't particularly involved. As a matter of fact, neither was Draco. The blonde seemed to be
contemplating something while Hasan just didn't feel like zooming around. While Hasan was pretty much cooped up
over the summer, it didn't mean he felt like having the wind tangle his hair. It was so irritating and felt disgusting...and
because no one understood he would have to endure the horrors of tangles hair himself, or risk being though crazy. So it
was that neither boy was particularly interested when the snitch flew between them.

"Hey, look!" Hermione called from below. "Draco and Hasan have spotted the snitch!"

In that one instant, both boys locked eyes over the fluttering ball, and dove! It was wild, unlike anything Hasan had ever
felt before. He flattened himself to the cleansweep 7 as Draco did the same with his battered broom. What was the point
of this, Hasan wondered, in this game where nothing came of it? Why was it so essential that he reach the snitch before
Malfoy? That he win, that he conquer, that he surpass? All he knew was that Draco wasn't coming anywhere near his
snitch!

The two chased after the ball, flying in loop-de-loops, dives, and high speed chases. Draco had never played a more
intense game in his life. Because it wasn't really the snitch they were after. The exhilaration came from knowing that they
both wanted the same thing at the same time and it was impossible. The mutual feelings of knowing exactly how the
other felt. That in one moment, there was an unspoken connection brought about by a game.

And that was when Hasan saw something else. He abruptly stopped his broom, glimpsing the apparition for a second
before- BAM! Draco sped right into him to the horror of everyone watching.

"Draco!"

"Hasan!"

Hasan was knocked to the left as Draco ricocheted to the right.

"Watch out!" Daphne screamed.

The world seemed to spin in slow motion as Hasan pulled out of the hit. But he couldn't shake the image from his mind.

Everyone came flying over to the pair, wanting to make sure everything was okay. Draco was only rubbing at his arms,
telling them that he was fine and that he could handle much more than that.

Hasan simply stared at the patch of land near the forest.

"Hasan, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Neville exclaimed.

"Hasan...?" Fred asked with concern.

"I saw a horse." Hasan informed them lightly.

"We don't have any horses here..." Ginny frowned. "Are you sure?"

The group scanned the field below, frowning as their doubt grew. Was Hasan seeing things? Was someone bewitching
him? Was it simply a mistake? Was he lying?

"Hasan, I don't think—" Tracey began quietly.

"Wait, I see it too!" Neville shouted.

"What—?"
"Where, Neville?"

"Huh?" Draco wondered slowly.

"It's dark, well, it's hard to see." Neville told them lamely.

"How come we can't see it?" Lavender demanded.

"Maybe it's a thestral?" Daphne suggested.

"What's a thestral?" Ron asked.

"Only people who have seen death can see it." Tracey said quietly with a shiver. "How about we go inside now? Isn't there
a way we can redirect the portkey to the floo network? "

Neville nodded. "Yes, let's go."

As they dismounted their brooms, Hermione wrapped Draco and Hasan in a large hug. "I can't believe you two! Chasing
after some silly ball! You nearly killed each other!"

"Don't be so melodramatic, Hermione!" Lavender sneered. "You wouldn't understand, it's a game for the strong."

"Was that supposed to be clever?" Hermione hissed. "From the way you were avoiding everything up there I'd say you're
the weak one."

"Now, now!" Fred cooed. "We can fight later. Right now, Neville needs some chocolate. He saw a thestral!"

"I thought chocolate was for dementors," Hermione told him shrewdly.

Fred shrugged. "Any excuse for chocolate we'll take."

With that, the group went inside, wondering what was going on.

.oOo.

"Tell me what happened again." Hermione demanded as they settled around the Weasley kitchen table.

"Well, Neville saw a thestral." Daphne said calmly.

"No he didn't!" Ginny shouted. "My Neville hasn't been tainted!"

"You didn't see Death, have you Neville?" Ron asked somewhat concernedly.

"No! NO! I refuse to believe it! Only the wicked have seen thestrals!"

"Ginny, be reasonable!" George shouted.

"But he couldn't have—!"

"I DID!" Neville screamed. "I do! I'm not saying it was a thestral, I'm just saying it was a horse! But do you really think that
way, Ginny? Do you think I'm somehow evil? I saw my grandfather die, Ginny. I didn't ask for that!"

The air reverberated with tension.

"I think Ginny is under a small misconception." Daphne said quietly. "Neville didn't murder anyone, he just witnessed
death. That's all."

Neville shot her a grateful smile, but his heart was heavy. It was only a misunderstanding, but how many
misunderstanding did it take for it to mean that she didn't understand him at all?

"Hey, didn't Hasan see it first?" Fred pointed out.

"I didn't see anyone die." Hasan lied evenly. "It was just a horse."

"But we don't have any..." Ron protested again.

"Then perhaps I simply can't remember." Hasan said pointedly, "Excuse me. I think I left something outside."
His mind was working rapidly as he neared the door: It made sense, even if the motivation was hidden. Well, he
supposed he could just ask her about it later...

He opened the door, took a step outside, and shut it carefully behind him without glancing up once.

"Hello Luna."

Hasan looked up into her large silver eyes. In return, the horse snorted at him, shaking her caramel mane. In the blink of
an eye, the horse transformed into the girl he knew as Luna Lovegood. She wore her traditional black clothing, with a
thick black headband in her blonde hair.

"Hello Hasan!" she grinned wrapping him in a hug. "Isn't it great? Daddy let me transform all summer! He thinks I have a
great potential to be a unicorn ambassador!"

Hasan couldn't help but smile at that.

"They all think I've seen a thestral." Hasan informed her with a grin. "Neville as well."

"Well, I'm not going to enlighten them!" Luna laughed. "It's not my fault they couldn't see me!"

"I quite agree." Hasan murmured. He opened the door to the Burrow, letting Luna step inside first. "They're in the kitchen
—" He broke off suddenly as a plump, red-haired lady came down the steps. She had a soft, kind face, with slightly
thinning hair, and she looked familiar. Hasan tensed, ready to pull Luna aside when he felt Luna grab his hand behind
him. Just at that moment, the older woman glanced up and caught them. For a second her face dropped.

From the kitchen, Hermione could be heard saying "Wonder what's keeping them..." before Neville, Ginny, Ron, Daphne,
and Draco came into the hall to explore. They found Hasan and Luna holding hands, frozen as they stared up at Mrs.
Weasley.

"Hey, what's going on?" Daphne wondered curiously.

"I—I know you!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "You were that boy I met in London two years ago!"

"Mum, that's just Hasan!" Ginny said exasperatedly, causing the Weasley matriarch to clap her hands over her mouth.

"So you're the one who keeps going on all those adventures!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Ron kept mentioning a certain long-
haired young man who hung out with the Gryffindors."

"Mum, I think you have it all wrong!" Ginny whined. "Neville's the one who saved the school twice!"

But Molly ignored her, continuing down the stairs with a warm smile on her face. "Nonsense, I'm sure Neville had to have
help sometime. And to think! I knew him before!" At this, Neville flushed deeply knowing he was guilty of not giving Hasan
enough credit in those escapades. "You can call me Mrs. Weasley, Hasan. How do you do?"

Hasan smiled, gasping her hand in a firm handshake. "Well, thank you. And I thank you again for helping me that day."

"I hope you found your parents soon after that. Getting lost in London is a horrible experience." Molly sighed.

Draco perked up at that. Parents? His silver eyes narrowed, wondering why Mrs. Weasley was under such a
misconception.

Hasan shifted slightly, imperceptible to all except for Luna and Draco. They didn't know though that back then, he didn't
have any parents. He was little more than an orphan then, and little more than a dreamer. And now? It seemed he had
made a complete 360. Could Altair still be considered a parent after everything he had done?

"Wow, Hasan! So you knew Mrs. Weasley even before you knew her!" Luna sighed happily. "What a fortuitous
circumstance!"

It seemed that this was the first real moment that Molly realized that there were more people in the room. The first time
she spotted Draco, hovering just beside Neville, her eyes narrowed slightly, reminded of his father. How could she know
not trust them? How could she know they weren't just spies? The obvious answer was that she couldn't. And this put her
on edge, as any mother would be when her young is threatened.

"Hey, mum, so when's dinner?" Ron asked bluntly, rubbing at his stomach in a definitely unrefined manner. "I'm starving!"

Molly snapped out of her reverie, and focused on her son. "Just give me a minute..." she muttered quietly, sweeping past
them and into the kitchen. "It shouldn't be long. How about you kids play Exploding Snap in the living room?"

"Oooh! I love that game!" Ginny cried immediately, "Let's go!"

But Hasan had noticed the way Mrs. Weasley made her exit, had noticed the way she seemed to hold Draco in
suspicion. But how could Mrs. Weasley, an adult, know about Voldemort's plans? Or perhaps, like Luna had said, it could
all just be: fortuitous.

At Ginny's exclamation, the group gathered the remainders in the kitchen and headed out for the living room. The living
room, like the rest of the house, was shabbily furnished with mismatched chairs and couches. But just like the rest of the
house, everything just seemed to fit. It was cozy and sweet, and much friendlier than Grimmauld Place, if Grimmauld
Place was even considered a candidate for homeliness.

Draco sat beside Daphne, who sat beside Neville, then Ginny, Tracey, Hermione, Fred, George, Ron, Lavender, Luna,
and Hasan. Sometime during the game, Daphne nudged a bit closer to the blonde and whispered, "You're quieter than
usual."

Draco shrugged, but Hasan had noticed it too. Draco was quieter; he was watching.

"I have a lot on my mind is all," Draco muttered.

"Well forget about that! Just for now, we're trying to play a game here and you're acting like a zombie!"

Draco shrugged. "I'm just tired." He glanced up to see if anyone had been listening, and quickly looked down once he
accidently locked eyes with Luna. It was eerie, as if that girl could see into his soul, and yet, what could she know? She
was too light, too good, too innocent. What did she know? For now, at least, Draco felt that his secret was safe.

Dinner came swiftly after that, and then cake, and then presents. The day was rapidly coming to a close, and birthdays
didn't seem as sparkly as they once did...it felt, heavy. Theo arrived right before dinner, apologizing profusely for losing
track of time. He had been out practicing his spells for next year and wasn't paying attention. This lifted the spirit of the
party for a while, but even Theo was no match for the combined woes of the group. Hasan was thoughtful. Molly kept her
eye on Draco. Ginny kept her eye on Neville, who felt a little odd ever since her thestral comment. Draco remained silent;
Daphne worried for him. In the thick of it all, Tracey and Luna smiled at each other and shrugged, while Fred and George
never hesitated to crack a joke to revive the atmosphere.

.oOo.

Right before they all left, however, Luna stood up on the chair and tapped her glass with her spoon. The ringing left
everyone staring at her curiously.

"I have one more gift!" Luna announced. "It's for you, Hasan." Luna said sweetly, as if this explained everything.

Neville looked on puzzled, as did everybody else.

"You were born on the same day?" Neville asked him.

"No. I was born a day later." Hasan said seriously.

"I can't believe we never knew!" Hermione cried. "Last year when we were celebrating...why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, it's not my birthday until tomorrow..." Hasan said, puzzled. Why was everyone so stunned? It wasn't his birthday, so
why would he even mention it? It would be like waking up one day and telling them, Hello! I was born on such and such a
day! At best, they would wish you an early birthday. At worst, they would think you were inane. So why bother? He just
didn't get it.

Luna held out a small, green box to him, with a little silver bow taped to the top.

"Happy early birthday, Hasan!"

The small group of friends echoed the sentiment, strangely excited to see what one bizarre girl would get for one
mysterious guy. Hasan took it gingerly, removed the lid, and gasped. Inside was a book, an old yellowing tomb that
oozed with magic. The title was inlaid with silver: Mind Magick.

He reached in to pick it up, when his hands came across something smooth, something solid, something unreal. He
glanced up at Luna and raised an eyebrow in question.
"It's a book, silly!" Luna beamed with her trademark dreamy smile.

Hasan nodded, but prodded the thing again. It was...cloth like, smooth, silvery. With grace, he maneuvered the book out
from beneath it, but nearly fell over in his seat when his hand disappeared beneath it. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

Somehow, Luna had gotten Neville's invisibility cloak and given it to him with no one the wiser...but why? And how? And
—?

"I hope you enjoy reading it! Unlike a library book, it never needs to be returned because you're the real owner. I hope you
understand that." Luna informed him dreamily.

And miraculously, Hasan did understand: the cloak belonged to him...which begged the question: how did Neville get the
cloak anyway?

.oOo.

Neville Longbottom sat in a lumpy feather bed in the guestroom of the Burrow. They would return to Grimmauld place in
a day (since the Weasley home was obviously a high priority for the Death Eaters to hit), but for now, they would remain.
His stomach was happily full, coupled with the fact that Ron was snoring rhythmically beside him, and Neville was well
on his way to falling asleep.

He wasn't exactly sure why he felt so...disappointed, though. Maybe it was because he knew he saw a horse today and
no one believed him...well except for Hasan, and he didn't pay much attention to him. He did care about the awkward boy,
but all he could think about was Ginny. Ginny, the girl who gave him her heart, the girl who promised to see him without
the Boy-Who-Lived image on top of him, the girl who...Who condemned him. She accused him without knowledge,
without even attempting to understand past her narrow concept of thestrals. Neville turned over in the lumpy bed,
smacking his head into the pillow with a huff. Girls, why did they have to be so complicated anyway?

If he were honest with himself, something else was bothering him too...but he didn't fully comprehend it. Then again, it
didn't need to make sense—feelings weren't always logical. Still, it was silly. It was just...why was Luna giving Hasan
presents on Neville's birthday? It wasn't that he disliked any of them, and well, he wasn't exactly an attention hog, but...it
just didn't seem right to him. Why did Hasan get something on his day? And when was Hasan's birthday the day after his
anyway? No one told him anything! But he still wasn't sure why this should make him nervous.

He rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling fan, whirling around and around, swirling the warm summer air in
a broth. He was nearly asleep before the most peculiar idea struck him:

As the seventh month dies...

.oOo.

September 1st

Draco Malfoy was prepared when he stepped on the Hogwarts Express. His mother and father had sent him off to this
third year of school with a smile, but he knew that beneath their sunny gazes, they were really saying: "Don't screw up."
The Dark Lord was counting on him, and failure, as he had told him, was not an option. So, as it was, a slightly stressed
Draco Malfoy made his way into a lone compartment.

Hasan was an acquaintance, that was all. Not a friend, certainly not a b est friend. The boy was odd, sure, but...he was
sorted into Slytherin for a reason. And therefore, perhaps Hasan wasn't who he said he was. Maybe, Hasan was playing
him.

Well, Draco thought, two can play this game.

And yet, he stayed put.

Hermione, Theo, Luna, and Hasan sat in one compartment, while Fred, George, Daphne, Ginny, Ron, and Neville sat in
the other. As far as he knew, Tracey had walked in with Millicent Bullstrode and had found a seat with Pansy Parkinson.
Draco glared out the window, unhappy, and, kind of scared. He was a danger to these people. He couldn't go and see
them. But they weren't his friends!

Draco continued to brood the rest of the train ride...

.oOo.
Meanwhile, Hasan was busy looking through his Mind Magick book. He had read it through already, but he couldn't
comprehend half of what was inside. It was complicated. This was his second read. Theo tilted his head over to Hasan,
as if to question, "What's up with him?" and Hermione blushed and grinned that Hasan was just being Hasan. Luna,
however, didn't seem to mind in the least. She was busy reading herself. The Quibbler, after all, was a quality paper,
especially when tilted 180 degrees...

"Hey, did you know there are thestrals at Hogwarts?" Luna queried presently, without removing the Quibbler from in front
of her face.

"Ooh! I've read about them!" Hermione squealed, happy to have something to talk about.

"Yeah, but I've never seen one." Theo murmured.

"Well, have you seen someone die?" Hasan asked blandly.

"Er...no." Theo flushed, "But that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'd be happy if I could go my whole life without seeing a
single one."

"Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it?" Hasan asked pointedly.

"But then you'd never see how beautiful they are!" Luna cried.

"Beauti—" Theo started, just as Hermione nearly shouted: "You can see them?"

"Yup!" Luna smiled, "My mother died when I was nine. She was quite extraordinary!"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, quite confused as to why Luna was happy about this fact.

"Er..." Hermione began. "I don't mean to be rude but why are you smiling? I'd be devastated if my mother died!"

Wait, Luna was smiling? Hasan put his book down, and turned abruptly to face her. But he saw something else which
Hermione didn't see. Respect. Luna was smiling, but her eyes were blazing. Her silver eyes were bright, but tinged with
sadness and a lot of pride.

"You can only mourn the dead for so long." Luna explained thoughtfully, "But I think she would want me to think of her as
the woman she was, not for the mistake she made. She was a remarkably strong woman. I'm proud she was my
mother."

The air was still, silent. Hermione nodded slowly, shivering involuntarily. Something like understanding passed between
Hasan and Luna's eyes, and it was palpable to see that Theo and Hermione were holding her in higher regard. Yes, on
the outside she was a little unconventional, but she was just as sane as anybody else.

She had depth. For the first time, they got to see that. For Hasan, he fell a little more in love. So naturally, instead of
hugging her in comfort, he raised the book back up to his eyes, and remained silent all the way to Hogwarts.

Ah! Young love!

.oOo.

Albus Dumbledore sat at the head table as always, waiting for his lemon drop to melt so that he could "dig in" to the
welcome feast. Everything was going as planned: The 1st years arrived with Minerva leading the way, since Hagrid was
temporarily...absent, Moody was settled beside Lupin (who was to be Hagrid's stand-in), and Snape was...being Snape.

He happily folded his hands as he watched the students stream into the hall. He spied Neville Longbottom first, looking
extremely proud with the youngest Weasley on his arm. Then he turned his eye towards the Malfoy offspring. He'd be
keeping a close eye on them both this year—for the greater good of course. He couldn't afford to have Neville stray from
the path he so carefully designed, nor could he accept Lucius' full confession without at least examining the son.

Everything was going fine until a point. And that was when the Sorting Hat began its song:

Many of you take many forms

in hair, in skin, in eyes.

I, for one, appear a tad too drab ,

 even I realize!

But b y the end, I alone

will know of your disguise.

Let's b egin b y talking of

the great founders four.

Intelligent, b eyond a wit,

b ut I know even more.

Fair Ravenclaw would pick the b est,

most cunning and most clever.

But even she would overlook

those b right inside, however.

And Hufflepuff, the sweetest dear,

would not pry past a mumb led "fine"

Respecting privacy and ignorance,

walks an uneasy line.

Third of all is Gryffindor,

who values strength and heart,

b ut even he, like all the rest,

would let them "act the part"

It seems that only Slytherin

would see the truth within,

hiding in the darkness,

he is the shadow's kin.

So put me on, don't b e afraid!

Your lips are sealed, and mine are frayed!

I'll say the house, b ut I'll b e swayed,

and in the end after the trade—

Never will you b e b etrayed.

Perhaps the only thing that could be said was that Albus Dumbledore was gobsmacked. Disguises? Preposterous! And
what was this about Godric not being fully aware of his house? But one thing in particular niggled the back of his mind:
what did this hat know that he didn't? He never considered it before, but every single student had let the hat on their
heads, had let them in...Perhaps...Perhaps...the hat was due for a talk.

.oOo.

After dessert, Albus rose to give his welcome speech. The entire hall fell silent, and thousands of curious faces glanced
up at him, wondering what he was to do next.

"A very warm welcome to all new and returning students! This year, as you may have noticed, we have a few changes on
staff. Allow me to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Auror Moody!" There was a polite smattering
of applause from the crowd, as the gruff man stood up, but the Gryffindor table fairly erupted. Most magical families knew
Moody as the most dangerous auror alive, however, his often harsh tactics left many people somewhere between
respect and fear. While it was clear where the Gryffindors stood, many just didn't know how they felt. Granted, many of
those were muggleborn. Moody's electric blue eyes whizzed in its socket, causing more than one person to shudder
inside. Even in the magical world, one could say it was damn creepy.

Albus let the crowd die down before gesturing for the next teacher to stand. "Many of you know Professor Lupin as your
Defense professor, however, this year he will serve as the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Hagrid, as you might
have noticed, is not with us today, nor for the rest of the year due to several family complications. But I'm sure you will
enjoy the course just as much with Professor Lupin's unique perspective! Thank you. And now, all's left is to sing the
Hogwarts song!"

.oOo.

It was quiet in the headmaster's office. Fawkes was sleeping on his perch, looking a bit old in his gray tinged feathers,
when Dumbledore himself came striding in, in eccentric purple robes. It was for the best, he tried to convince himself. It
was property of Hogwarts! He was headmaster of Hogwarts! Surely in all of the school's existence, he could not be the
first to...lower himself to interrogate a hat.

Minerva would bring it in any moment, he knew, so he contented himself with another lemon drop and twiddling his
thumbs. But when Minerva didn't appear for another few minutes, his mind wandered into...undesirable territory.

The horcruxes...if he was going to pull this off: the entire Prophecy mission, then the chances that Voldemort would be
there would be...But to kill him, Albus would need the horcruxes in his possession and destroyed. And yet, where were
they all?

The ring? Disappeared. The diary? Collecting dust on his top shelf. The cup of Hufflepuff? He guessed that this, along
with the locket of Slytherin were locked in some Gringrott's vault. But this was all speculation. From the memories, he
could only conclude that there were seven. But what about the others? Something from Ravenclaw? Perhaps the diadem
that mysteriously went missing during Riddle's year? And that snake, Nagini, that Lucius had spoken of...it all seemed to
fit, a bit, if loosely.

And what did he have to show for it? Nothing. The ring, taken. The diary, destroyed. The cup, missing. The locket,
missing. The snake, protected. The diadem, missing. And still there was one more...It almost seemed too elusive, too
perfectly out of his grasp, as if someone anticipated this. As if someone knew about the horcruxes and was hunting
them down as well, but...no! That was ludicrous!

The door creaked open, a presence hung in the doorway.

"Just set it on the desk, Minerva." he told her quietly.

"..."

Dumbledore turned around, staring into two black eyes.

"Severus? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's starting."

Albus froze.

"What do you mean it's starting?"

"The Resurrection."

"He—but it's so soon!" Albus muttered to himself.

"Indeed, but the stores of Unicorn blood were wearing thin. Rudimentary isn't to be taken forever."

"Speaking of which, Severus? Could you ask our new friends the Malfoys for a small favour?"

Snape was instantly on high alert. "Of what nature?"

"I need access to the Black family vaults."

"The extended family?"

"Yes. I believe the locket of Slytherin and the cup of Hufflepuff remain in one of them."

Snape digested this slowly, then nodded. So Dumbledore was still after the Horcruxes, was he?

"Why not ask the mutt?" Severus queried. "The goblins are a neutral party. I doubt they'll tell..."

"I believe that Voldemort would have stationed a few spies around the bank. I'd rather use Sirius as a last resort, while
the Malfoys would not arouse any suspicion on the surface."

Didn't Dumbledore know that everyone was suspected in the Dark Lord's eyes? Unless...wait, of course it was. It was all
a test. He was testing them.

"Very well, I shall ask."

"Thank you Severus. And...if you could brew me a Memory Potion?"

Snape's eyes darkened.

"Of course." The Potions Master left as silently as he came, with a heavier heart and a tired mind.

Meanwhile, Albus sat in front of the hat, examining the contours of its folds, the stitching, the threads, though frayed,
never untangled. Should he put it on? Or...would that be too elementary? Then again, it was a hat. Who was going to
laugh? Right—he flicked his wand and all at once the portraits of the former headmasters and headmistresses were
curtained. Just before the sound barrier formed, however, he could hear their groans of having missed a good show.

He plopped the Sorting hat on his head, reminiscent of his sorting as a child, when a most peculiar thing hit him on his
skull. He took off the hat, gently, lifting his hands to grasp the fallen object.

It was a vial.

"What?"

It had no animals on it, no indication that it came from the founders at all. But, he was the headmaster! He was the only
one with access and power to manipulate the hat! Upon closer inspection, his old eyes could just barely see an odd
wispy substance inside. Something like silver, something like air. His fingers turned it over in his aged hands,
wondering, wondering...he felt a bump, some ridges!

He squinted, bringing the glass vial close to his weathered face. On the side there was inscribed:

"Am I half full or half empty?"

What was that supposed to mean? That silly muggle saying, appearing on perhaps one of the most remarkable magical
artifacts? Was it a riddle? A trick? Or was someone mocking him? He continued to turn the little glass vial around to read
the next words. A magic vial, indeed!

"I hold a solution" and turning it further: "You will know what to do with it." And finally: "Forgive me."

Albus was left dumbfounded, turning this little glass trinket in his hands, wondering what on earth was going on. The
next few minutes, he tried every spell he knew. He tried charms, curses, light magic, and a bit of dark...finally, he just gave
up and decided to put it in his drawer for safekeeping. He was going to resume his interrogation of the hat, when the hat
itself began to speak.

"Ah, always were a Slytherin, weren't you, Albus? You prey upon a hat that can't defend itself when no can see or hear."

"You put me in Gryffindor." Albus protested, caught off guard.

"Yes, because that was what you wanted. I cannot give you what you want now, however. I belong to Hogwarts, not to
you."

"But this concerns the entire fate of the Wizarding world! I need to know! Were there any indication of Tom Riddle's fate
from his childhood? Are there any threats this year to the students? Should I watch a certain family?"

"STOP IT." For once, the Sorting hat screamed. "Headmaster, there is nothing I can or will ever be able to tell you."
"I see."

Stony faced, Dumbedore set the hat back on top of his shelf to sleep until the next year. He wasn't a bitter person. He
was just tired. A little weary. A little suspicious. He had a responsibility to shield the world from Lord Voldemort, and time
was running out for him. Perhaps he would call Neville up some days and teach him everything he would need to know.
Yes, that would work. At least then, the world would be in capable hands.

.oOo.

Severus was fuming. Brew this! Brew that! Salazar! He was just a simple person! Couldn't Dumbledore just admit his
old age and buy anonymously from the pharmacy in Hogsmeade? Couldn't Voldemort kidnap some potion maker in
America and have them help in his regeneration?

To put it lightly, Snape was in a pretty foul mood. But most of all, he was upset because he would now have to write to
Altair, report to him like some dog, reporting to a third master, asking if it is okay to give Albus a memory potion, if it won't
interfere with the plans Altair had laid out...and then if it wasn't? He would have to fake it, of course, and then what? Be
suspected of treason? Get carted off to Azkaban, no thank you! And to bother the Malfoys about the vault? Albus just
didn't know about timing. The Malfoys were newly inducted! To do this so soon, was like asking them to be a suicide
bomber on their first and last mission. If Voldemort learned...well, that was the end of them, the end of Draco too.

Severus summoned a piece of parchment and a quill before furiously writing down his thoughts.

"A.

The headmaster has asked me to b rew him a memory potion.—"

And this was when a most peculiar owl came rapping at his door. Still bitter, he thrust his hand out, using wandless
magic to let in the poor owl. The bird flew in, hooting irritatedly, but on its leg it held a letter. Severus frowned. It was
entirely too late for any mail...he tore it open, thanked the owl with a thrown frog leg, and settled down to read.

"Severus,

I realized I was rude when I turned you out of my house the other day. However, I had something extremely pressing I
had to attend to. To close up a few loose ends, please do not concern yourself with any memory charms I may have used
on the headmaster. If you knew, you would understand. I think time has b een good to him-he's grown wiser. The memory
charms have served their place and if he wishes a memory potion or the like, do not hesitate to aid him. The storm is fast
approaching, or so I've heard.

I know it doesn't hearten you to hear this b ut I actually need your help to accomplish a plan I have long had in action.
There is a b ook I want you to read. I've preordered it for you at Hogsmeade, the receipt is enclosed in the envelope. If my
memory charms b egin to fray, don't worry. They're actually timed to disintegrate. When you do receive the b ook, I highly
suggest you start reading chapter 7. Do not b e upset with me. It was a risk, I know, b ut the alternative was much worse.

Perhaps, to make it up to you, I'll take you out to lunch sometime in July? How is that?

All my b est,

Altair"

A/N: What do you think of the vial? What's inside it? How about that book, eh? Fascinating, right? And I wonder what
book Altair wants Snape to read O.O How about that new Sorting hat song? I had a great time writing it. Does it make
sense?

As promised, here is the vote!

Will Mad-Eye Moody survive?

a) No

b) Yes

c) I would like to see him in a coma like stasis

Please review! LET'S MAKE IT TO 600!

Next up: Ch 26: Tea Leaves and Bad Mail Service
*Chapter 26*: Tea Leaves and Bad Mail Service
A/N: It's snowing. It is the middle of March and it is snowing.

I'd like to take some time to thank the wonderful people who have left me a review last chapter!

EtherealKnight21, daithi4377, pinks99, Remvis, Wishfull-star, 1wpc1, Lord worth, The AsianWeasley Twins908,
medward, Nagilover4ever, EndlessChains, JPElles, Guest, ApprenticeOfDaedalus, TyrialFrost, lightskiller, Psyka,
Noble Korhedron, Ismene Daughter of Athena, reviewer(guest), and The Writer Of The FanFiction

Thanks to all!

Please enjoy! And PLEASE REVIEW at the end! XD

Return of Emerald

Chapter 26: Tea Leaves and Bad Mail Service

Severus was fuming. Brew this! Brew that! Salazar! He was just a simple person! Couldn't Dumbledore just admit his
old age and buy anonymously from the pharmacy in Hogsmeade? Couldn't Voldemort kidnap some potion maker in
America and have them help in his regeneration?

To put it lightly, Snape was in a pretty foul mood. But most of all, he was upset because he would now have to write to
Altair, report to him like some dog, reporting to a third master, asking if it is okay to give Albus a memory potion, if it won't
interfere with the plans Altair had laid out...and then if it wasn't? He would have to fake it, of course, and then what? Be
suspected of treason? Get carted off to Azkaban, no thank you! And to bother the Malfoys about the vault? Albus just
didn't know about timing. The Malfoys were newly inducted! To do this so soon, was like asking them to be suicide
bombers on their first and last mission. If Voldemort learned...well, that was the end of them, the end of Draco too.

Severus summoned a piece of parchment and a quill before furiously writing down his thoughts.

"A.

The headmaster has asked me to b rew him a memory potion.—"

And this was when a most peculiar owl came rapping at his door. Still bitter, he thrust his hand out, using wandless
magic to let in the poor owl. The bird flew in, hooting angrily, but on its leg it held a letter. Severus frowned. It was entirely
too late for any mail...he tore it open, thanked the owl with a thrown frog leg, and settled down to read.

"Severus,

I realize I had acted rudely when I turned you out of my house the other day. However, I had something extremely
pressing to which I had to attend. To answer some lingering questions, please do not concern yourself with any memory
charms I may have used on the headmaster. If you knew, you would understand. I think time has b een good to him-he's
grown wiser. If my memory charms b egin to fray, don't worry. They're actually timed to disintegrate. The memory charms
have served their place and if he wishes a memory potion or the like, do not hesitate to aid him. The storm is fast
approaching, or so I've heard.

I know it doesn't hearten you to hear this b ut I actually need your help to accomplish a plan I have long had in action.
There is a b ook I want you to read. I've preordered it for you at Hogsmeade, the receipt is enclosed in the envelope.
When you do receive the b ook, I highly suggest you start reading chapter 7. Do not b e upset with me. It was a risk, I
know, b ut the alternative was much worse.

Perhaps, to make it up to you, I'll take you out to lunch sometime in July? How is that?

All my b est,

Altair"

.oOo.

A few weak strands of light illuminated the silent corridor. The floor was made of slick black tiles, the walls were dark...it
smelled of stale air and silent whispers.
Nagini quite liked this place. She tasted the air once more, trying to determine which way to lead her Master's followers.
They tailed her clumsily—they being Bellatrix Lestrange and that Barty fellow—as she slithered silently along. Sharply,
she turned left and was able to see a shape disrupting the pattern of shadows on the wall. Ah, yes! Nagini darted
forward, fairly gliding along the polished floor. From behind, she heard the two Death Eaters advance. Her mouth began
to fill with saliva. There would be food tonight.

"MOODY!" a woman whispered.

And then the hall erupted in light and chaos.

Nagini darted this way and that as the humans distracted each other. Curses ricocheted a good ten minutes, there was
a sound of snapping bones.

"Diffindo!" someone shouted, and as blood made the floor slippery beneath her scales, Nagini was able to strike.

.oOo.

Hogwarts had never been good at keeping DADA teachers. The Prophet was never good at keeping secrets. As the
rumors flew, all Albus could do to keep from cringing was think about how lucky they had been not to lose Alastor Moody.

The plan discussed over the summer had been loosely started. To entice the Dark Lord to want to hear the prophecy for
himself, Albus had to make it seem worth going after. By stationing guards at the Ministry and being seen in public
having lunch with Sybill Trelawney, talking of prophecies and the like, he hoped to arouse some curiosity. However, there
was a darker reason for Albus to see the prophecy: He wanted to know if he knew it, as well. The wordings of these
things were so tricky, that if he misremembered a single line or stanza, there was bound to be trouble.

Ordinarily he would consult his pensieve, for that would surely be untampered with. But more and more was he
beginning to suspect a third party interference. Who was it that put the vial, currently around his neck, in the Sorting hat?
Who was it that had the access? The power? The respect? If they could do that, then what would stop them from
manipulating his memories?

Still, the mission to kill Voldemort wasn't any less prominent. Luring him to the Ministry was still top priority. After all, if
they killed him, why would he need to know what the prophecy said anyway? Last night, after the feast, had been Moody's
turn to guard the door. Not to raise suspicion as much as it was to scout out the situation. He learned that they had
improved the security over the years, having developed a spinning door mechanism enhanced with a unique blend of
confundus and compulsion spells to trap the intruder. But it came at a price. For whatever reason, Voldemort was a bit
more on edge than normal, which was to be expected. He still didn't have a body yet, according to Severus. The Tom
Riddle Albus knew certainly wouldn't want to start at a disadvantage. If he knew the Order was snooping around the
Department of Mysteries, then of course it was only prudent to send in a small scouting team. And then of course, Death
Eaters, being as unpredictable as they were, the scouting mission turned into more of a homicide trip...

Amelia Bones had died in the hall, throat sliced open with a cutting spell. It was messy, gruesome. Not the Dark Lord's
style at all, unless it was to send a message. Amelia's throat was hardly the only thing damaged. Her lungs were
crushed, arms mangled. It seemed that the escaped Bellatrix Lestrange had returned to work with all of her earlier
finesse.

As if this wasn't enough, Moody had returned with a rather large gash in his leg, claiming that Voldemort's familiar,
Nagini, had bitten him. Now this intrigued Albus because if Nagini was a horcrux, then Voldemort certainly wasn't
keeping her under a very tight leash. (Well, unless Bellatrix could be considered 'responsible.') If Nagini's life wasn't a
concern right now, then perhaps...Oh, Merlin!

The remaining horcuxes were probably the most well protected, best hidden objects in the world...Albus sighed. If the
cup and locket were in the Black vaults somewhere, then where would the diadem be? And how could he get close to
the snake? And then...was there truly a seventh?

.oOo.

While Albus was musing, Minerva was frowning. How could Albus keep putting people in danger like this? Susan Bones
had left school, possibly to never return again! To think, to Albus they were pawns! To people, they were family. She
sighed heavily. Well, at least Alastor made it out alive. She couldn't say she particularly liked his rough antics, but he
certainly had earned her respect. He was an able man, even in his old age. Still, that didn't give Albus the right to send
him straight into danger! It was hard to ignore the broad white bandages on his thigh. Everywhere she could hear the
rumors swirling. Of Moody battling a great cobra. Of Moody close to death in the Ministry. They all figured he was off on
Auror business, which he was of course, except they didn't know that the man behind all this suffering was sitting at the
center of this staff table, chewing thoughtfully on a lemon drop. One day she swore she was going to incinerate him!

.oOo.

As the rest of the Great Hall exploded over the shocking Daily Prophet article, the Slytherin table looked quite glum. Draco
was silent as he picked at his food, stabbing things unnecessarily before taking a swig of pumpkin juice. Hasan bit his
lip. Across from them were Daphne and Tracey, wondering what was wrong with them.

"Isn't this so weird? Wasn't Moody here yesterday?" Daphne asked presently. She intended to liven up the table, but only
succeeded in eliciting a shrug. "Oh come on, what's gotten into you? Have you gotten into a spat over something?"

Hasan looked up at her dully and forced a smile on his face. "Nothing is wrong." he said convincingly, but inside he was
exhausted. Though he slept all night, it was as if he hadn't slept. And he had the most unusual dream too. He was so
upset as he dragged himself down to breakfast that he hadn't had a chance to peak at the Daily Prophet yet. It was
garbage, of course, but it was good to know what the general public knew. "What was that article about again?"

Tracey sighed, "Really Hasan? We've been here for thirty minutes and you haven't heard?"

"I bet Draco hasn't either." Hasan pointed out, nodding towards his dull friend.

"You've got to be deaf not to." Draco drawled, shaking himself from his reverie. He turned to Hasan slowly, with some
obvious reluctance. "And I'm not mad at you either, it's just...sorry, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"Good thing we have Divination first." Daphne laughed. "You can sleep right through that."

"So what is the article about?" Hasan pressed, curious now.

"Do you know about the Department of Mysteries?" Draco asked him. Hasan didn't, but he assumed it was something
'mysterious' in the Ministry of Magic. "Well, Mad-Eye Moody was attacked down there last night and Amelia Bones died."

Hasan glanced at the staff table to find that indeed there was a large white bandage on the auror's thigh.

"They say Death Eaters were behind it." Tracey added in a whisper. "So I'd be careful if I were you in DADA today. I heard
Moody's got a grudge against the Slytherins as big as Snape's against the Gryffindors. Especially now."

Daphne laughed in her sleeve. "I rather doubt that. He's a respected auror, isn't he?"

"Yeah, before he was attacked." Tracey groaned. "But what was he doing down there anyway?"

Before anyone could respond, there was a bright ringing in the hall- the sound of a spoon tapping against a glass. They
all looked up to see the headmaster standing before the podium in light blue robes.

"Good morning!" he said with little more than a quirk of his lips. "As many of you have no doubt heard, one of our staff
has indeed been attacked."-his voice, thought Hasan, was exhausted and irritated,-"Thankfully, Professor Moody has
escaped with only a scrape and will be able to teach his first day here! In light of this event, I believe we should continue
the Dueling Club to ensure our students are prepared for the hard times ahead. This year Professor Flitwick and
Professor Moody will take the reigns as your instructors as Professor Lupin and Professor Snape have other obligations.
Meeting times will be on the bulletins by the end of the day. Thank you. And remember to enjoy your first day back at
Hogwarts!"

With that, the headmaster whirled around with his robes behind him, and the bell rung for class.

.oOo.

"I knew that Malfoy was bad for us!" Ron Weasley shouted as he, Hermione, Luna, and Neville trudged down to
Divination.

"It could just be a coincidence!" Hermione hissed in a low whisper. "And I don't think you should be talking about this
here!"

Ron just shrugged. "Neville, what do you think? Bellatrix is Lucius' sister-in-law! He could've just owled her our whole
plans!"

"Ronald! Quiet!" Hermione urged again, as they were attracting a few stares.

Just then, the Slytherins came down the corridor-the only corridor, mind you- leading to the trapdoor.
"So why couldn't you sleep last night?" Tracey was asking Draco.

"I don't know. I was just thinking a lot." Draco said tiredly.

Before Hermione could stop him, Ron was going in.

"What? Up contacting your aunt?" Ron snarled, taking a step forward.

Draco looked bewildered. It was way too early in the morning to be fighting with the Gryffindors.

"Ron! That's highly irrational!" Hermione said, tugging on his arm. "How was he supposed to know—" Then she stopped
herself. Luckily, Draco didn't seem notice. But Hasan did. Know what? What did they know that the general public didn't?
Something wasn't right here.

Hasan watched the Gryffindors, the way they stared at Ron curiously, waiting for a fight. Hermione seemed stricken,
Neville looked pale, and Luna?

"Hello Hasan!" Luna smiled happily, somewhere from his left. He spun around, startled, to find the girl softly giggling at
him. Even in her uniform she managed to look...unique with a giant white bow in her hair that looked more like a pair of
wings.

"Hello Luna." he said, trying to lock his thoughts away for later. Then something occurred to him: "Wait, aren't you a
second year?"

"Mmmhmm!" Luna beamed. "Flitwick signed my form to be in Divination since I dropped Care of Magical Creatures. Why
would you want to care for creatures anyway? They can care for themselves! That's why they're magical!"

Hasan couldn't help but crack a grin at this logic.

.oOo.

"—okay! Okay, Hermione! I get it, geez!" Ron was whining as he massaged his arm.

Hermione raised her chin. "You better have."

At that moment, the trapdoor came swinging open, releasing a cloud of fog and the smell of incense. There was an
immediate bout of coughs, but Hasan needn't have worried because Luna had clamped a hand over his nose and
mouth, as well as her own.

"Greetings!" the stringy woman said, blinking behind large circular glasses. "I am Professor Trelwaney and this is
Divination!" The fog receded and she thrust out a dramatic arm towards the trapdoor. A stepladder came tumbling down,
hitting the floor with a clatter. "Follow me!"

With gusto, the seer crawled back up the opening on a ladder which creaked beneath her weight. Hermione eyed the
ladder apprehensively but she was the first to follow. By the time the entire class had made it into the painfully tacky
classroom, Trelawney had finished setting up the last of the teacups and had started to take roll. After everyone was
marked present, except for Susan Bones which made several people uncomfortable, the mystic turned to face them.

"First, we will begin by looking into our cups! Empty, right? Now watch me and I'll show you what to do."

Hasan was seated at a small table with Luna across from him. On his right, there was a table with Draco and Daphne,
Neville and Ron, and Tracey and Hermione. They watched the beetle-eyed woman scoop a pair of tea leaves into her cup
and mash them with a crystal pestle. With a flourish, she poured steeping hot water from her wand into the cup,
watching in amazement as the tea leaves floated to the surface.

"And now, I will drink!" she announced gulping down the tea with both hands wrapped around it. "Before it is nearly
empty, give it three good swirls! One! Two! Three! Thinking of what is foremost in your mind. Then say the spell:
'exaresco' to dry your leaves! Then"-and here she fumbled with her wand and a giant textbook on the ground, as if not
knowing to put one down,-"take out the chart in your Divination Texts and try to define as many symbols as possible! For
instance...I've got a flag! Which means danger! Oh! No! No! No! It cannot be!"- she held her head in her hands-"One of
you will die at the end of the year! YOU!"-and she pointed up randomly, to land on Hermione Granger. "Now you try!"

Well that was as enticing as it got, Draco thought glumly.

"Wait, what?" Hermione screeched. "I'm going to die and that is all you can say?"
The woman blinked behind her glasses. "I do not lie. I am a seer! You, my child, have little time left in this world."

"WHAT?" Hermione repeated. "You pointed randomly! It could have landing on anyone!"

"But it landed on you." the seer said with a mystic expression. "You can choose not to believe in my powers, but I still
have them. I sensed as you entered the room that perhaps you did not have the- er- same spiritual connection that I do."

"This is all nonsense!" Hermione cried, standing up. "You can't just declare someone's death like that!"

"Then perhaps I was mistaken," she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders, "though I doubt it. Maybe I pointed to that
young man-" She glanced down at her roll call. "-Draco Malfoy. Now look what you have done! You have brought doom
upon his head as well!"

The entire bizarreness of the situation would have been funny if she weren't so agonizingly serious.

"Urgh!" Hermione growled. "This is a fool's class! Maybe I don't have your sight, but at least I know when I'm wasting my
time. I'm done with this!"

The girl strode over to the trapdoor, opened it, and plunged right through without a ladder.

There was a snap. The class was silent, the teacher in quiet lamentation. Theo rose from his seat and took off towards
the opening.

"You're a sick woman!" he shouted, before carefully lowering himself to the ground.

More silence reigned, so that if Hasan strained his ears, he could hear Theo's soft voice comforting her down the
corridor.

Back in the classroom, Sybill cocked her head.

"Ooooooh! Didn't you say she was in danger!" Lavender Brown yelled out.

"Yes, indeed I did, Miss Brown." Trelawney smiled triumphantly. "Yes I did. Now let's begin!"

.oOo.

Hermione didn't know what was in worse condition: her ego or her ankle. It had snapped beneath her as she tumbled to
the floor, too caught up in her emotions to realize the obvious danger. How could that vile woman go around condemning
people like that? Didn't she know about psychology and the self-fulfilling prophecy? Of course something was going to
happen if you were on the lookout for it!

The pain was unimaginable. It wasn't that it was the most painful thing in the world as much as it was the most painful
thing she had ever experienced. What was she going to do now? Levitate through the halls? She inched towards the
wall, trying not to move her foot too much. Luckily, she didn't have to wait long before she heard voices above her. And
just as quickly, there was Theo lowering himself to the ground beside her.

"That was uncalled for." Theo said softly. "Trelawney's known for being a little off her rocker, but still. Here, let's get you
up." He wrapped a supportive arm around her side, hoisting her up so that she leaned on him. Both their hearts were
pounding in unison, although it was really quite unromantic.

"It hurts." Hermione groaned.

"Shh, shh. It's okay. We'll get you down to Madame Pomfrey, okay?"

She nodded shakily.

Fifteen minutes of hopping about later, without having seen a soul, they ran very unexpectedly into Professor
Dumbledore. He saw them and his ice blue eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Er, Professor!" Hermione stammered, trying to distance herself from Theo without falling down.

Dumbledore looked them over before smiling. "Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Nott. What happened?"

"I fell." Hermione ground out.

"We're headed to Madame Pomfrey's right now." Theo added.

"Good, good." he said absently, stroking his beard. "Perhaps a pain relieving potion then?" And just like that, he had
reached into his robes and proffered them a little vial. Hermione gulped it down, eager to be rid of the pain. Relief
washed over her, and she smiled up gratefully.

"Thanks Professor!" she beamed, nearly putting her foot down in its state of numbness.

"Ahh, I wouldn't do that." Dumbledore said. "Maybe Mr. Nott can miss a few more minutes to continue walking you down?"

Theo nodded determinedly.

"And Mr. Nott?" Albus asked, handing him a thin envelope. "Could you please pass this on to Mr. Longbottom?"

"Yes, of course." Theo said, "Thanks Professor."

Albus Dumbledore watched them hobble away, too grateful to be suspicious of anything. He wouldn't want the entire
school to know that he was giving Mr. Longbottom private lessons after all...

Theo met no one on his way back except for a stony faced Snape. Even though he was a Slytherin, Theo didn't need to be
yelled at this early in the morning. He tried to keep to the wall as much as possible, though the man didn't seem to even
notice him. As he ran back to class, he hoped that there was nothing terribly important he had missed.

.oOo.

Remus Lupin had a break the first period. Actually, Sirius was teaching his class as it was a few days after the full moon
and Lupin was a bit sick...but details, details. He turned his attention towards the Daily Prophet, wondering how they
knew all that they did. How did they know the name of Voldemort's familiar? How did they know that it was a cutting curse
and not a blasting one? Or simply a muggle knife?

Was there one among their number? Of course there was.

The real question was: Why was Dumbledore so reckless? He knew the plan. They were baiting Voldemort, but it looked
as if the game was up. The Dark Lord could go to the Ministry at any time and simply seize the damn prophecy! Well, not
without alarms, but clearly the security in the Ministry wasn't that tight.

He sighed. Dumbledore had a lot of ambitious plans this year. Each full moon would not only be his transformation, but it
would also be recruiting days. Days in which Remus would go strolling down to the friendliest of werewolf packs and try
to sway their allegiance. He shuddered. How was this going to help them at all? What could Albus offer them? Equality?
No. And with a simple bite to the neck, the Alpha of any one of them could die, and all their hard work would be lost.

He was so lost in thought that he nearly missed the rapping at his window.

What? Lupin leapt off the couch and peered outside before opening the latch. A cute little black owl hopped inside, a
letter twice the size of it dangling from its feet. It looked familiar, but where had he seen it? The owlery, perhaps, but he
couldn't be sure. It was rather unusual. He carefully undid the string, relieving the creature of its burden, wondering all
the while what it could be. As soon as he had done this, the owl hooted and then went zipping back out, its job done.

Remus frowned as he unfurled the envelope.

"Sirius Black"

Like a child, he glanced at the door, then back outside where he could see the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid's hut if he
squinted. Yes, Sirius was still out there, teaching about Hippogriffs. It wouldn't hurt would it? Just a peak? They were
engaged after all, and they weren't expecting anything in the mail. Besides, Sirius was a cleared convict. He had no
friends. Who would write to him? He weighed the paper, determining it to be pretty expensive. And the ink! The script! It
was clearly from an old pureblood family. Looking at the door once more, he sniffed it, hoping to pick something up, but
nothing.

He tore it open.

"Sirius,

I am glad they have finally freed you so that I may write to you. I have little family left. I am old. And yet, there is so much
work to b e done. I am writing today b ecause I have a need of two family heirlooms which I b elieve rightfully b elong to
me. It is difficult to trace the family tree, even if it has b een carefully pruned, b ut you may ask Gringott's to send you a
copy of the will.
Let me b e frank, I ask for the mirrors. You see, I will b e gone for a while and have use of them to contact several good
friends of mine. Please send them as soon as possib le as I am not sure when I'll b e leaving. Simply call the owl called
Raven and she'll know what to do.

Best of Luck,

Altair Dean Castell

P.S. Congratulations on your engagement. I wish you all the b est.

.oOo.

Remus stared at the paper for a good ten minutes. What in the world did he just read? By the tone of the message,
Lupin would hazard a guess that this was some distant relative on the expansive family of Black. But that wasn't what
interested him. No. It was the name: Altair Castell.

Perhaps if Snape hadn't shown interest in Hasan last year, he wouldn't have even noticed, but the fact remained: this
was a family that warranted suspicion. After all, what child's boggart was Harry Potter? If the letter was true, then that
would mean that Hasan was related to Sirius! Yeah, like all the pureblood families...Remus walked slowly towards the
couch and sank back down.

It was a simple letter really. It wasn't as if Sirius was keeping secrets from him, right? Besides, he seemed friendly
enough. He knew that Sirius was engaged! And, wait, he knew that Sirius, out of the entire family of Black, had the
mirrors which James and Sirius had used during detention. But no one knew about them! Maybe he had looked them up
at Gringott's? But there weren't any tracking charms on them—they were family heirlooms with ancient charms. They
didn't need to be kept track of.

So then...how? A man named Castell. Related to Sirius. With knowledge only one who once met them would know...and
then had sent the letter rater purposefully while Remus was not supposed to be in the school? Something wasn't right,
and Remus was going to figure out what it was, hopefully before Sirius found out and did something rash...

Glancing at the clock, he had about an hour before Sirius' next class was finished. Enough time to floo to Grimmauld,
check the family tree, and come back. He peeked out the window with a nervous excitement, before grabbing a dash of
powder and shouting into the flames.

.oOo.

Hasan stared down at his teacup with a delicate frown on his face. His brown hair fell into his dull jade eyes as he tried
to make out what his tea leaves said about him. It was most peculiar. There was a single mass of tea leaves, strewn
together in a semi ring about the bottom.

Snake.

A shudder ran through him as his dream suddenly resurfaced. It didn't make any logical sense, but for some reason, he
couldn't let it go. In it, he was a snake, or rather, he saw what the snake saw, and if it was the same snake...then he must
have been Nagini. The sixth, Hasan remembered. But just like last time, it hadn't seemed like a dream. In fact, he knew it
wasn't. But the alternative was too horrible to imagine. If he was the snake, then he was the one to bite Moody, the one to
attack Amelia Bones before Bellatrix sliced her head off...

Hasan turned his eyes away from the cup, sickened to the pit of his stomach. He had murdered someone. Two people, if
that old man was to be counted. But this too was irrational. Just as irrational as the snake showing up bold and full, in
his teacup.

"Er, I' going to the loo." Hasan said hastily, placing his cup down a little too fast to be called natural.

Luna stared after him with a serene expression on her face. It was obvious something was bothering him, but for now,
all Luna could do was give him space. At least, that was what she determined from her teacup. Tea leaves could tell a
lot, she thought. Perhaps they would show her something about Hasan?

When the boy didn't return for many minutes, Luna couldn't take it anymore. She discreetly snatched his cup from the
other side and gasped.

How odd: a horseshoe.

.oOo.
Hasan was terrified. What could that mean for him? That he was going to keep attacking people? That people shouldn't
trust him because he was lying to them all? Attacking people in his sleep? Life would be so much simpler if he had
someone he could talk to. But there wasn't anyone!

Altair? Luna? Even Snape. His life boiled down to half formed relationships and several hidden personas. How much
longer before he cracked? When Lucius' memories would pour over into his? When Voldemort would finally gain
possession of his mind?

He ran down the hall, not caring if anyone, ghost or portrait, saw him acting as if the very ground he walked on was in
flames. Finally he had reached somewhere near the Hospital Wing, as it was also somewhere near the bathrooms. He
had determined to just walk to the loo, splash water on his face, and leave. But then something interesting happened.
He saw Snape run!

Oh, he was dignified and terrifying while doing it, but it was so odd that Hasan couldn't help but be intrigued. The man
was headed towards the Hospital Wing. It wouldn't be any extra effort to lie and say he was there to see Hermione, would
it? His head still pounded, but he needed to do something to get his mind off of the snake. Off of his dreams. With a
steady resolve, he started towards the infirmary.

.oOo.

Severus Snape was having a very bad day. It didn't start off this way, no, but then a small little owl was tapping at his
door...Raven (he sneered the name). Right. As enlightening as it was to learn Altair's secret life, he was still an idiot.
What part of being discreet didn't he understand? He was a dead man for Salazar's sake! He couldn't be pulling stunts
like this, contacting Severus, a Death Eater in the public eye!

There were two things strapped to the bird. A letter and a most interesting looking box. He made to grab the letter, but the
little black owl bit him on the finger, hard enough to draw blood. Salazar, could he not catch a break? With a sigh, he
untied the little box and immediately, the bird took flight. But what about the letter? Where was it going? He ran to the
window, watching as the puny creature zoomed to a nearby office. And not just any office: The Defense Against the Dark
Arts office.

Severus sighed. Well, there was no way he was going to involve Sirius in this secret. Let Altair do what he wanted. It was
his arse on the line. Turning his attention back towards the box, he wondered what could be inside. The outside was
plain looking—worn black leather with a thin silver rim. The top was impressed with the message: Just in case things
don't go as planned. Well that was bloody useful! Severus scoffed, attempting to pry it open, but surprisingly the little
thing didn't budge!

"Alohomora!"

Nothing.

Dammit!

After going through his repertoire of semi-dark spells, he started delving into the dark arts. But after several minutes of
trying to open what was probably a worthless trinket case, he finally gave up. He was about to sit down in frustration
when, without warning, his fireplace roared to life.

"Severus!" Poppy called urgently from the flames. "I need a pain relieving potion! One that isn't strong enough to knock
out an adult hippogriff, thank you! And fast!"

Severus leapt out of his seat. What the hell had happened? It was way too early in the school year for them to start killing
themselves! Children, he muttered. Summoning a few stoppered flasks of the foul smelling potion, he made his way
towards the hospital wing. He saw no one but Theodore Nott as he walked, which was good, because he didn't have
time to deduct points at the moment, and he certainly didn't want his reputation ruined if he let someone go. And indeed
it would have been a nice leisurely walk had it not been for the searing pain in his arm...

"Fuck," he muttered. To hell with dignity! He started running the last stretch towards the infirmary, ignoring the jolts of pain
in his arm. The bastard was just going to have to wait. And with that, Severus picked up the pace.

oOo.

"Ah, Severus!" Madame Pomfrey smiled, turning around. As she saw him, her eyes hardened. "He's calling you, isn't he?"
she asked. No need to ask who He was. She saw it in the way his hands shook, in the way his eyes seemed to darken
with storm clouds.
"I need to leave." he said shortly.

She licked her lips nervously. "I could have summoned them. I didn't know." she said as he transfigured his Death
Eater's robes and mask.

He shook his head. "It was while I was walking. There was nothing I could do." Which was true enough. The anti-
apparition wards were lifted in the infirmary for times when Severus left the meetings a little worse for wear.

It was as he was fastening his cloak that he realized that the impertinent know-it-all, Hermione Granger, was on the bed,
seemingly knocked out. What was wrong with him? When had he b een so indiscreet?

"There's no one who can hear us." Poppy said as if reading his thoughts. "Now go." Seemingly alone, Poppy sighed. "I
wish he wouldn't do that."

There was silence as Hasan leaned against the wall, letting the information sink in. Severus Snape was a Death Eater.
Yes, but he knew this already, didn't he? It shouldn't have been a surprise. But it worried him. Hadn't he just seen what
the Death Eaters were capable of first hand? What if the snake attacked Severus next? What if the Dark Lord attacked
Severus next?

When he felt he had stood outside long enough, he slowly made his way back to class, only to have the bell ring for
second period. Perhaps DADA would liven the mood...

.oOo.

Draco was in a bad mood. Not only had his teacup prophesized some great impending doom, but he was now walking
to Defense Class. With Moody. With the man who was flay him alive! As his stomach twisted itself in knots, he got a pretty
good feeling of how the Gryffindors felt in Snape's presence.

"Excited?" Theo asked shakily.

Draco shrugged. "As ever."

Somewhere down the hall, Hasan had joined up with them with a pensive look on his face.

"Where were you?" Neville asked him.

"Loo," he mumbled, but Draco would have bet anything he was lying. "Do you know much about Alastor Moody?" Hasan
asked presently.

"Oh, well, he..." Neville started. "I mean, he put a lot of Death Eaters behind bars. Like Bellatrix Lestrange." he finished
offhandedly.

"Your aunt, right?" Hasan asked Draco, remembering the crazy woman from his vision.

Draco nodded. "I barely know her though." he answered tonelessly, so it was impossible to tell whether he was happy or
not about this fact. Hasan would venture to guess happy. Seeing Bellatrix trapped in Azkaban and then again last night,
there was no other conclusion to be made except that she was a totally deranged witch.

Neville, so used to putting up a hardened front, couldn't help the shudder that ran through him. Hasan filed this away for
later pondering as the door suddenly burst open.

"ENTER!" a gruff voice commanded them. Everyone looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Hasan shrugged. With a
wary eye, he entered the darkened classroom. There was nothing striking at first, but then a sound at his right caught his
attention. Without time to react, his reflexes took over.

"PROTEGO!" Hasan yelled, thrusting out a hand. The power behind his shield blasted several desks and chairs back
into the wall, but not the lone man, standing wand outstretched to his right. This man, with his spasmodic electric blue
eye was grinning.

"Bravo." he smiled. "Constant vigilance! Alright, in, in! What's your name, young man?"

Hasan regarded this man warily as the rest of the class poked their heads inside. They gasped as they took in the
destruction, looking between the auror and the quiet Slytherin.

"Hasan Castell." he answered softly, trying to conceal his reluctance. Even though everyone else had overlooked the fact
he shared the surname of a long dead Death Eater, there was no telling what this top auror had heard or not.
"Castell?" Moody repeated tightly. "I can't say I've heard that name very recently."

"Je suis de France." he said hastily, not needing someone else on his case.

The professor nodded. "So you are..."

By this time, the class had trickled in, each staring at the clustered desks in wonder. With a sweep of his hand, Moody
had set the desks and chairs to rights, before walking purposely to the front of the room. He took role quickly, constantly
pacing before a veiled table. When he was finished, he turned to the class and flicked his wand in the blink of an eye.

BOOM!

Nothing in particular exploded, causing several people to fall over in their seats.

"As you have already seen," he entered into his lecture smoothly, as if no great thing had just happened, "constant
vigilance is the rule of this classroom. You can't let your guard down even for a second! Longbottom!" he barked.

The boy gulped before controlling his face. "Yes, sir?"

"You of all people should know what happens when constant vigilance is not met. I believe your parents, both formidable
aurors, had three days to leave their dwelling, and yet they did not, causing them to die at the hand of the Dark Lord."

People gasped at the nonchalant way Moody was unveiling his past, wondering if perhaps the Longbottoms hadn't had it
coming to them. Everyone knew that if the Dark Lord was after you, you got the hell away from him.

"The Dark Lord didn't kill them." Neville interrupted him in a strong voice. "The Dark Lord was hiding like the coward he
was. He sent his Death Eaters to do the job for him."

Moody grinned. "Did he now? Then I assume you know what spells they used to do the job." With a twitch of his mouth
he asked the class: "Who here knows of the unforgiveables?"

Hasan knew, but obviously he wasn't about to jump up and beg to answer. For one thing, it was a little eerie how much
this man knew about the Longbottoms. Was he there? Who could say? Because the truth was that Harry was the one to
stop the Dark Lord...he never stopped to think about Neville as a legitimate target. The other reason he didn't answer
was that he already performed a wandless shield charm faster than a celebrated auror. He really didn't need suspicion
coming his way. So he just sat there, wondering who would answer.

"If only Hermione were here." Theo whispered teasingly.

Hasan tilted his head to consider him. Hadn't Nott come from a Dark family too? Wait, wasn't the whole Slytherin House
full of Death Eater spawn? No wonder no one was answering. With the future still unstable, no one needed to be labeled
loyal to one side or the other.

"No one?" Moody repeated. "Not even you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Everyone turned to watch Draco in the back of the room shake his head.

"Come now. We don't need to keep up this pretense." Moody told them calmly as his magical eye whizzed around.
"Knowledge is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially in a classroom, safe under Dumbledore's watchful eye."

Finally, Pansy raised her hand. "I think we've all heard of the Killing Curse, professor."

The man's aged face seemed to light up. "Ah! Wonderful contribution Miss Parkinson. But although it's an unforgivable, it
isn't necessarily Dark—"

"What do you mean?" Lavender interrupted stupidly. "It kills! Obviously it's dark magic!"

"Miss Brown, I believe?" Moody asked. "Can you describe exactly the effects of the Avada Kedavra?"

The girl swallowed. "I—Well the person dies. He has no time to run or shield himself! It's not a fair fight!"

"Thank you Miss Brown. Now who would like to explain the effects of a common fourth year spell, incendio? Perhaps
Miss Greengrass can enlighten us?"

"It conjures fire, sir."

"And what do you suppose would happen to a body under incendio? Do you think it would be very painful? What about
the cutting charm? Diffindo? I am simply trying to make the point that not everything is black and white. Yes, Mr. Castell?"

Hasan was very well aware of the famed philosophical grey area, but clearly there was a reason why some spells were
banned.

"Professor Moody, with all due respect, can't you shield any one of those spells? The Killing curse goes through all
shields, all wards, and all ancient protections. I don't think we can disregard that. That's the difference between Dark and
Light, whether it's morally fair, and the mass majority dictates the standards."

The class processed this for a minute. Even Draco had perked up and was paying full attention now.

"Well-reasoned, Mr. Castell." Moody finally said. "But I think you misunderstood the point. I am not trying to justify the Dark
Arts, and yes, I admit they are dark. I only wish to point out that the Light isn't as pure as they make themselves out to be.
We use what we must. But since you seem to be so knowledgeable, perhaps you can tell us the name of another
unforgiveable?"

"The Cruciatus," Hasan said without hesitation. From out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville shudder very slightly.
Even if he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, maybe he had his own personal story? Hasan hadn't questioned it before, but now
he was sure there was something more to him.

"The Cruciatous curse is the torturer's friend. It causes an illusion of hot, sharp knives gnawing, biting, stabbing, and
slicing into your flesh. It gives no reprieve, and often cannot be shielding against once starting to an overshot nervous
system. And finally, perhaps Mr. Malfoy? The final unforgiveable if you please?"

"Imperius." he whispered.

"Louder, if you please?"

"Imperius." Draco repeated, stronger this time. "It allows another to dictate your will. Like a voice in the back of your mind.
The victim has no control, even if they know what's happening."

"Very much like your parents?" Moody prodded maliciously. "Yes, the claims upon claims of the imperius curse."

Draco gave him a steely glare.

"Professor?" Neville piped up. "How can we defend against them if we can't cast protego?"

"That, Mr. Longbottom, is exactly why you're here." His magical eye swept the crowd before his mouth split into a smile.
"The only way to protect against these spells is to experience them and learn how to combat them. One more question
before we start today's demonstration: What do you propose I have concealed beneath this cloth?"

And at that moment, they saw it thrashing.

A/N: Oooooh! What's in the bag? What do you think of Moody? Do the tea leaves mean anything? Is Trelawney batty
or painfully misunderstood? And will Lupin catch on? By how much?

Next chapter: ROE27 Anxiety: Where Severus goes to the Dark Lord, Moody teaches the Unforgiveables, and Neville
learns the secret to Immortality.

PLEASE REVIEW!
*Chapter 27*: Anxiety
A/N: Sorry I'm updating so late! I've been swamped with benchmark tests before Spring Break which officially starts
today! I'm off from school for a week now and will be dedicating part of this time to writing fanfiction. I have started writing
a new piece called "When Innocence Sleeps" which is HP/TM nothing too graphic though. It will probably be 15 chapters
long or less. Anyway, thank you for the wonderful reviews!

And by the way...If you review, I'll give you a virtual chocolate frog. XD

So without further ado, ENJOY!

Thank you to:

Noble Korhedron

JPElles

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For the lovely reviews! Please don't forget to R&R!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 27: Anxiety

"Late."

"My Lord, I am sorry!"

"CRUCIO!"

He did not scream. He wasn't a stranger to pain anymore. He knew he came late, from his own damned reluctance to
return to his master, and his own duty to Poppy as the resident Potions Master. Still, it didn't make it any easier.

As Severus lay gasping on the floor, he focused solely on maintaining his Occlumency shields. There was too much he
knew already. If Voldemort had even an inkling that he was conspiring with a dead man he would be a dead man. When
he opened his eyes, it was to see the cold marble floor. Somehow he had fallen.

"Severusssss, rise." his Lord commanded.

He did so, staring up at the great ugly body, dressed in black upon a dark wooden chair. He wasn't sure what emotion
was strongest: disgust or loathing or fear. It was probably an unhealthy combination of all three.

"What news has the old wizard gathered from last night's events?" he questioned softly.
"Only what was in the Daily Prophet, my Lord." Snape began. "The Bones child has left the school and Dumbledore has
insisted that Moody continue to teach."

For some reason, the monster seemed pleased by this.

"And do you know why there were guards at the door?" he continued in that same soft tone.

"My Lord?"

"I am asking why the old coot has decided to take an interest in the prophecy just now. He has had people stationed
there for a week. I have only acted recently."

What could he say? That they were luring him to the prophecy? Absolutely not! That Dumbledore was doubting his
memories? But then, that would make him seem old and weak. A prime target!

"My Lord, Dumbledore does not have confidence in his army. He believes the only thing that can save the Light is Neville
Longbottom and that the secret to his success lies in the prophecy."

Voldemort nodded slightly. The thing was, Voldemort knew it was really Harry Potter he had tried to kill. So did Severus.
But Severus didn't know that Voldemort knew, and neither did the Dark Lord. But then, did Dumbledore know the truth?
Because even if he knew Neville was less than useless, he would want to prepare him for his role...and even a paper
bag trained by Dumbledore was rather dangerous.

"Has the Longbottom boy shown any signs of this great power?"

"His only remarkable talent lies in Herbology, my Lord. I rather doubt he will be a threat to you."

"Indeed. You did well, my loyal servant." he hissed. "Lucius, Bellatrix, you may enter."

From behind him, two large doors swung open to reveal the two in Death Eater robes.

Lucius chanced a glance at him, before returning his eyes to the Dark Lord. While Lucius and Bellatrix knew of Draco's
task, Severus did not (or so Voldemort believed), and even then, only Lucius knew of the details of his plan. But Bellatrix
knew something the others didn't, which he was now only too smug to reveal.

"Yesterday, as you have all heard, Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody were attacked in the Department of Mysteries."

Bellatrix nearly swooned. He remembered her contribution!

"However, that was not the only purpose I had sent you there. You see, people can be weapons as much as prophecies
can be weapons. Dumbledore had sent his guards to protect the prophecy, but who was there to protect the guards?"

Severus felt his heart drop. He knew where this was going and didn't much want to get into all the gory details.

"The Moody currently inside Hogwarts isn't Alastor Moody, Severus. It is Barty Crouch Junior. A loyal Death Eater I have
freed from Azkaban. The real Moody is contained." he added maliciously.

Severus was glad he wore a mask so that no one could see his jaw drop. What in Salazar's name-? It was like he was
hit over the head with the whomping willow. Whatever he had expected the Dark Lord to say, it was most certainly not that
a Death Eater roamed amongst the children. No wonder Moody had acted so differently from yesterday. While he was
ordinarily so gruff but somewhat levelheaded, today he was angry, very vocal and even likeab le. Well of course he would
have to be to blend in. Dammit! In all his years of spying, how had he not suspected sooner? Granted they only had
breakfast together but still...

Lucius too was feeling a bit uneasy. This homicidal psychopath was in the same building as his Draco!

"My intention for him is to help young Draco in his task. You see, Severus, I need to test Crouch just as much as I need to
test Draco. Before this war is over, I will need the aid of my spy and would rather not, ah, use up my resources too
quickly."

Even as the Dark Lord smiled maliciously, Severus couldn't help but ask,-

"My Lord, I saw Moody today with a bandage around his leg. It practically radiated Dark Magic—the kind that can't be
reproduced..." he ventured.

"Ahh yes...What good is a servant if they can't take a little pain?" (Snape gulped) "It was essential for the story to work.
How else would Moody be able to escape alive if my Death Eaters hadn't left him alone because he was being handled
by Nagini? And senile as he is, Dumbledore would suspect in an instant if the wound wasn't authentic."

"It was quite a sight, my Lord!" Bellatrix giggled. "His screams were so loud! I think Nagini scared him!"

"So you see, Lucius," Voldemort smiled over the witch's insanity, "Draco is in quite good hands."

.oOo.

Hasan sensed it immediately when the silencing charms were waved away. There was something beneath that cloth,
thrashing desperately, but stuck to the table with a sticking charm.

"One more question before we start today's demonstration: What do you propose I have concealed beneath this cloth?"

And that's when Hasan heard it. The hissing.

:What isss thisss place?:

:Shhh, perhapsss thiss human will let usss go.:

:My tail feelsss broken!:

Hasan froze, jade green eyes locked onto the table. Snakes! What was Moody doing with snakes? Where had he get
them? Why had he gotten them?

Their hisses became more frantic, tinged with fear as the students got louder.

"It's moving!" Pansy shouted.

"It's alive?"

"Oh, Merlin!"

:What isss that?: one of the snakes hissed.

Hasan frowned, unsure of what to do. He still wasn't sure what was planned, but given their chat on the unforgiveables, it
was rather hard not to guess. His eyes met Moody's over the exclamations of the crowd and there was unmistakable
cruelness in them. With a flourish, the professor vanished the pall covering the reptiles, much to the horror of the class.

There was immediate silence.

Draco Malfoy's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Snakes? Snakes? He was giving a demonstration on snakes! It was
a rather tactless attack at the Slytherins, but perhaps he deserved some allowance because his leg had been gauged
out by Voldemort's pet yesterday...even Draco had to admit that Nagini made him uneasy.

"The unforgiveables, as Mr. Longbottom has pointed out, are curses which times make necessary to defend against.
The imperious curse, for example, renders its victim useless to the whims of the castor." Here, Moody pointed his wand
very carefully at the greenish viper and whispered: "Imperio!"

The snake stopped its thrashing at once, adopting instead a hazy look which gave it the appearance of being drugged.

"As I have previously stated, the unforgivables are hardly the most terrible of spells. Simple spells like incendio can do
just as much damage." With another wave of his wand, a small fire sprung up from the fireplace which was located at
the front of the room, but to the left of the table.

Draco wasn't in the habit of showing weakness, but right now, vomiting did not seem like a bad idea. He could sense the
tension in the room, the way the Slytherins were looking uneasily at each other, the way the Gryffindors hid their virgin
eyes, not used to seeing gore of any kind.

Everyone watched, entranced, as the snake was made to slither down the table leg, across the cold stone floor, and to
the fire roaring in the corner.

"STOP! This is inhumane!" Daphne screamed, unable to contain herself.

"Humane?" Moody asked. "War is not humane. Everything I do is for this war." And he made the snake crawl forwards to
its death. The fire seemed to burn brighter as the snake's nose reached the flames. The flames licked against its scales
and for a moment, the imperious curse wavered.

:HELP!: the snake hissed, before the tail followed the head and the body became charcoal. To make a theoretical point,
the snake had turned to ash.

Moody returned his attention to the class, a smile on his face. "Who wants to choose the next curse? You, Miss Davis?"

Tracey seemed to shrink away. She shook her head rigorously.

"Please, we are all waiting. It is either the cruciatous or the killing curse—what was that? I didn't quite catch that."

"The cruciatous." Tracey repeated boldly.

The breath hitched in Hasan's throat. The fire was horrible enough in itself. This? He had seen its work on humans. He
did not wish to see it again. Neville was having similar thoughts. Though he had never been privy to an actual torture
session, he got the general gist and had an innate phobia of the cruciatous. Ever since his gran had told him the story of
his parents, why they were confined to St. Mungos for insanity, Neville had imagined the scene over and over. Had
Bellatrix laughed as she was known to do? Had they tried to run? To protect themselves? Had they known? Had they
faced it, knowing the consequences. Knowing that Neville would grow up without them?

"Very good, Miss Davis." Moody flicked his wand at the second viper with a muttered crucio. The change was
instantaneous. The poor creature began to flail on the desk, beating its muscular tail against the wood. It twisted
uncontrollably as unseeable knives sliced through its scales, stabbing the soft underbelly and every sensitive part of its
anatomy. It writhed unnaturally, screaming all the while in a language only Hasan could understand.

:Save me: it choked out as Moody smiled. Neville couldn't watch. He buried his face in his hands and plopped his head
firmly on the desk. He refused to watch this torture. Draco, meanwhile, was staring with a growing feeling of nausea.
This was what his aunt did so well, what his father did, what his family was known for. What he was destined to do.

"Stop it." Daphne said again, obviously set on protesting. "Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him!" At that, the entire
class turned to Neville Longbottom, the boy fated to rescue them all, who had turned ghastly pale.

"It wouldn't be the cruciatous if it didn't bother some." Moody replied gruffly without any feeling. Hasan remained silent.

"Stop it! STOP IT!" Daphne yelled as the hissing became louder.

:It hurts! It hurts me so much!:

"Professor!" Tracey pleaded.

Finally, the snake was released. The girls calmed. The snake heaved large breaths, still shaking from the aftermath of
torture, unable to control its own body.

"Mr. Longbottom, perhaps you can tell me how I should dispose of this?" Moody prodded. "Does the killing curse seem
so dark now? Out of all the spells to take life, the killing curse is the most humane. What do you think, Mr. Longbottom?
The killing curse, or find some other way? Perhaps even continue until it becomes so insane it can't tell the difference
between life and death."

Neville lifted his head and promptly gulped. What could he do? The man was right. The killing curse was the only way.

"—Professor," Hasan interrupted, "This snake only needs to be disposed of, am I correct, sir?"

The teacher shuffled a bit before reluctantly nodding.

"Then I'll take him." he said.

"You'll what?" Neville repeated stupidly.

Moody was thinking much the same thing. "Mr. Castell, this is a specimen for education, not some house pet. I simply
cannot allow it to leave this room."

"Then your objective isn't to dispose of her is it? It is to make your points through suffering. Professor Moody, please say
what you mean, because you're talking in riddles."

A prevailing hush swept over the class. Hasan Castell, the quiet boy in the Snake House was standing up a teacher. Not
one of them could recall a time in which they heard him say much of anything. Granted, Lupin and his memory charms
had a hand in that, but as far as anyone was aware, this boy was coming out of nowhere. What did they know about him
really? And how did he know the snake was a female?

Moody's mouth twisted into a grim line. "Detention, Mr. Castell. This weekend, for speaking out of turn and challenging a
teacher's methods."

The class was astonished as Hasan nodded once before standing up straight and tall. His eyes gleamed dangerously
as he walked towards the professor. No, past the professor, to the snake. But before he got there, Moody raised his
wand with a shout—

"Avada Kedavra!"

Draco was about to warn Hasan, but it was too late. The spell was cast, the green light flashing before their eyes. Moody
was breathing heavily. Hasan turned steadily to face him. Then, the jade eyed boy took a step back revealing a sizzling
black hole where the snake had been. The snake wasn't dead. It had vanished, letting the killing curse burn through the
table. And Hasan was the one to vanish it, without a single word spoken or a wand waved, or even a hand. But no one
knew this, that Hasan had magicked it away—they could only suspect. It had happened so quickly, and everyone was
half wincing before the incident.

"Class dismissed!" Moody barked harshly. "Everyone out!" He glared at Hasan before he said in a softer tone, "Mr. Malfoy,
if you could stay for a moment?"

.oOo.

Hasan was surprised that he was allowed to leave but didn't want to question it. What he did was thoughtless, reckless,
stupid beyond belief. But what that man did was thoughtless, reckless, and stupid beyond belief. Not only was it illegal,
but several Light and Dark families were in that room, polar opposites in the war, and with this Light wizard practicing
Dark magic, he was rather unpopular all around.

No one noticed except Malfoy that the snake had gone missing. They were all too stunned and scared to pay much
attention to the little details. But it was not lost on the Malfoy heir how impossible it had been for that snake to have
escaped death. Yet, there was only one snake remaining on the table, hissing in a tongue that Draco didn't understand.

"Mr. Malfoy." Moody began as soon as the class was empty, the door locked and warded. "As you no doubt know, curse
scars never go away," and with that, Moody shoved up his sleeve to reveal a mark so recognizable it was burned into
boy's brain. With that one gesture, Draco's world was flipped upside down. This man was not Moody. This man was not
Moody. This man, right in front of him, was NOT Moody. He was a Death Eater. "My name is Barty Crouch Jr."

Somehow, a bloody Death Eater had made it under Dumbledore's nose and into the school. For some reason, his blood
ran cold. He was supposed to be happy he knew. Support was what he needed most, but this seemed more like
babysitting. The Dark Lord obviously didn't trust him and planted this imposter here to keep an eye on him.

"You're not the only one being tested here, Mr. Malfoy." Barty said as if knowing his thoughts (but he didn't because
Draco's occlumecy shield were up) "You see, my success depends on your success. And I've only been here a day, and
already I've noticed some things which are not conductive to what the Dark Lord wants. You can't spy if you withdraw
within yourself. Whatever little misgivings you've got better get sorted out soon because the Dark Lord WILL NOT tolerate
failure. I suggest you start working on your attitude today, boy. I'll be watching." Moody's face hardened. "And we all know
what happens when someone fails, don't you?" The snake on the table seemed to tense as if in understanding, before
Moody pointed his wand carefully at the creature. "Try not to let this be you—AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Draco left the room shaking.

.oOo.

Draco Malfoy wasn't sure about several things. As he made to sit down at the Slytherin table for dinner, he wasn't sure
where to sit. Moody basically blackmailed him into making nice with his own friends who he was going to betray...and if
that wasn't complicated he didn't know what was.

"Hey Hasan, Daphne, Tracey..."

"Hi Draco!" the girls beamed.

He forced a smile before sidling in beside Hasan. "So where's Theo?" he asked.

Hasan shrugged, "Most likely in the Hospital Wing with Hermione. I didn't realize they were that close."
Tracey giggled. "Hasan, were you not here at all last year? Didn't you see them snog in the halls before?"

Hasan shook his head. "When did this happen? And why would I watch if I happened across them?"

Daphne sighed bemused, "Honestly, Hasan. For someone who nearly blew up the Defense classroom you sure don't
notice much."

"Speaking of which," Draco cut in, trying to be social. "Where'd that snake go anyway?"

"In that damned fire," Daphne hissed, "I hope Moody burns in Hell so he knows what it feels like."

"No, I meant the other snake." Draco prodded, noticing how Hasan suddenly became very interested in his mashed
potatoes.

"The second one?" Tracey repeated, "Moody killed it with the killing curse."

"Look who needs to pay attention now," Draco laughed hollowly, "It was gone—spelled away."

Daphne looked disgruntled, "Hasan, you were up there, what did you see?"

The jade eyed boy who had tried so hard not to be noticed was dragged into the conversation. "There was a snake on
the table after he cast the spell." Hasan said, referring to the third one.

Draco sighed. At this point, the boy was being purposely ambiguous, but why? Did they reach that point when Hasan no
longer trusted him? Or did Hasan know he was digging for clues?

"I meant the second one," Draco nearly growled.

"Geez, take it easy," Theo said over his shoulder.

"Theo!" Daphne greeted. "You came right on time! Draco thinks the second snake disappeared. What do you think?"

Theo frowned. "To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention."

"How could you not be paying attention, Theodore Nott!" Tracey admonished. "That was the creepiest class I've ever gone
to!"

"Well, the same reason I came late just now. Did you know when I went to the Hospital Wing, Hermione was
unconscious?"

Hasan's attention was immediately grabbed. "Unconscious? But she only fell, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought!" Theo cried, "Anyway, Madame Pomfrey assured me it was a side effect of the potion she
was drinking. Seems like Hermione got hurt worse than I thought. Who the hell has a trapdoor as the entrance to their
classroom? Anyway, have you seen Longbottom? I'm supposed to give him something. Oh, never mind, I found him. See
you guys!"

The boy spoke so fast that by the time he had made it to Neville's side, he was doubled over and out of breath. Hasan
wondered what type of note Theo could have for Neville, but Hasan guessed that it was a teacher's note and not one of
his own, because obviously Theo could just talk to Neville if he ever wanted to tell him something. And by the way
Neville's eyes flickered up to the head table, where Dumbledore was gazing at him knowingly, Hasan would hazard a
guess the note came from Dumbledore. But why?

"Anyway," Draco tried again, "the snake?"

Daphne poked her carrots. "Just give it up Draco. That class was bloody awful. I'm praying I forget it."

Tracey agreed and the table was silent. But Hasan noticed that Draco seemed extremely disappointed, especially when
the blond stole a glance at the infamous Defense professor, Alastor Moody. Hasan wondered absently as he chewed his
food why Severus looked so uncomfortable to be seated next to Moody, when that morning there was but a little dislike
and mutual respect.

.oOo.

Neville walked into the Great Hall flanked by Ginny and Ron. He was still shaken up from Defense class, but was feeling
slightly better after Herbology. There was just something very soothing in the way he could care for a little life that wasn't
his own.

"Neville!" Ginny whined, "I'm going to try out for quidditch this year! Are you?"

Neville flushed. He wasn't athletic by any means and the whole school knew it. How could they forget their first Quidditch
demonstration when Neville managed to injure himself without doing anything?

"Eh, yeah, maybe." Neville mumbled.

"Ah, it's okay." Ron said in partial understanding, "But you don't need to feel sorry for those Slytherins. Having you on our
team wouldn't be an unfair advantage. Even if you are the Boy-Who-Lived!"

Neville flushed even deeper. "Er, that's not exactly it."

At that moment, Nott had caught up with them, panting wildly as he clutched his kneecaps.

"Hey...Neville." he smiled tiredly. Ginny tried not to sneer as Ron looked stupidly curious. "I got something for you, from
Dumbledore." he said, fishing the letter from his bag.

Neville took it carefully, before discreetly catching the headmaster's eye over crowd. What could the man want from him?
Not that he wasn't pleased. No—Neville had gotten used to his ill-built fame over the months and owed it all to Professor
Dumbledore. What, with the right training, Neville was convinced he could be just as good as any missing Harry Potter.
As Moody had so tactfully shown them today, all it really took was a well-aimed Avada Kedavra and poof! Voldemort would
be dead!

"Hey, what's it say, mate?" Ron asked him.

"I need to meet with Dumbledore about something." Neville paraphrased quickly. "I need to leave now. I'll catch up with
you later, okay?"

Nott had stayed to hear this last bit before slinking back to the Slytherin table. Ginny and Ron just shrugged and watched
him leave.

"Hmm, isn't it so great we're friends with the Boy-Who-Lived?" Ginny mused.

"Yeah," Ron said. "When he finally defeats You-Know-Who, we'll be on the front cover of the Daily Prophet too!"

Meanwhile, Neville was racing down the corridor when he spotted Luna wandering aimlessly in the front hall.

"Er, Luna, what are you doing?" Neville asked, trying to be kind, but failing. He sounded like he had just witnessed the
stupidest thing in his life and that Luna was an idiot. Part of this was attributed to his very emotion state (seeing those
snakes being tortured didn't really lift one's spirit), and his rather haughty feeling of importance (Dumbledore wanted to
see him! Him!)

"I'm making sure I know where the castle is!" she answered happily, sending him an angelic smile.

"But you're IN that castle." Neville informed her slowly as if she couldn't understand the simplest of concepts.

Luna pouted, "You're no fun! Of course I'm in the castle, silly. But that's not going to help me find it again when I leave.
Hey, you could come with me and help me find my way back!"

Neville looked rather doubtful. "I have to meet Professor Dumbledore right now. Maybe next time." he said absently.

Luna nodded sweetly. "You're welcome to come at any time."

Neville waved, uncaring. "Bye Luna."

The girl walked towards the front door. "Good-bye, Mr. Longbottom!"

.oOo.

Upon reaching the gargoyles which guarded the headmaster's office, Dumbledore seemed to magically appear from the
shadows.

"How did you do that, sir?" Neville asked in wonder.

Albus smiled. "Just a trick I've picked up. Come, come. Gumdrops!"

Neville wasn't exactly sure what he was in for when he had received that special invitation. Perhaps he was going to
learn advanced spells, or maybe healing techniques, or even how to duel!

"Sir?" he asked politely, "Aren't people going to wonder why you're not at dinner?"

The old man seemed to smile at this as he bumbled around the office. "That would go for you too, Mr. Longbottom, but I
would hope the polyjuice potion would be enough to fool them."

"Polyjuice potion, sir?" Neville wondered.

The headmaster nodded to himself, still rummaging around his overstuffed drawers. "Yes, it allows the drinker to
become anyone he wants—in appearance only. The man who you saw at the head table was not me, I assure you. His
name is Kingsley Shacklebolt and he's an auror who is helping me to protect this school."

"But why does he need to be in disguise? If he's an auror, he's allowed to be here...right?"

"Yes in theory," Dumbledore sighed, "But there is some merit to having extra protection that isn't out in the open."

"But M-moody—" Neville stammered.

"Yes, well every bit of protection we can get matters!"

Neville frowned as the headmaster avoided his question, wondering if there wasn't some other reason Kingsley was
here in disguise. Why would Dumbledore need a decoy? Was he afraid of being murdered? Did he need to leave the
castle unattended at times? He was peeved that the headmaster didn't think highly enough of him to trust him. He was
the bloody Boy-Who-Lived after all! But Neville was still too excited about receiving special lessons that he didn't seem
much to care. And besides, he didn't want to offend the headmaster, his guiding mentor.

"Okay, sir. So what am I going to be learning?"

"Lots and lots!" Albus smiled, just as his hand grasped something on the back of his shelf. "Ah, got it!"

Neville tried not to wonder why the most magical man on earth did not use a simple accio.

"What is that, sir?" Neville queried as the headmaster held up a dusty crystal vial.

"Memories." Dumbledore explained. "My memories to be precise. Neville, I am not lying when I say this war rests on the
shoulders of everyone, especially you. These memories are the key to winning the war. Tonight, we are going to take a
trip down memory lane to Tom Riddle's past."

"Tom Riddle, sir?"

Albus's keen blue eyes flickered towards him. "You do recall the diary, do you not, Neville?"

"The diary...of Tom Riddle?" Neville wildly guessed.

"Yes, I believe I have it right here, ah! Here it is!" The headmaster pulled out the tattered remains of a book which had the
most peculiar hole singed through it. "This, my dear boy, is why we're here. Why Voldemort exists. Why everything has
happened the way it has. These memories will explain exactly how it came to pass."

Neville nodded as if he understood, but inside he was in deep thought. Though he took credit for the two times he had
defeated Voldemort in school, he knew that the others had been there with him. If he didn't know what this diary was,
then maybe they did? And this thought unsettled him, because if the diary truly was that important, then that would
mean...his friends played a bigger role than he did! And that just wasn't possible!

Albus waved his arm, causing a large stone basin to float from his glass cabinet to his desk. He poured the contents of
the vial inside and waited. Neville watched as ghostlike figures moved around the little bowl. Without really thinking, he
leaned forward...

The memories he saw had one thing in common: a young, handsome boy named Tom Riddle. To think that this
charismatic youth would become the world's most feared villain was almost ludicrous seeing the child for the first time.
Neville didn't detect the signs which Albus would later regret not acting on. Neville didn't see the way the young boy
thirsted for power, for revenge, and for blood. He didn't understand the significance of the trophies. What was muggle
junk compared to a magical diary which sucked out life? But they were the same, and this was the idea which Albus was
trying to impress.

"How many are there?" Neville asked. "Did he really make more than one?"

"I believe he succeeded in making six, although he had originally planned to create seven. Even one is too many and
enough to unsettle anyone in mind and in magic."

"So how do you destroy them?"

Albus gave him a thoughtful look. "Since you cannot remember that night in the Chamber of Secrets last year, I am going
to assume this diary was destroyed with Basilisk venom. Unfortunately, the entrance to the chamber seems to have
disappeared again so that's not an option..."

The headmaster looked at him hopefully, as if Neville would suddenly remember the entrance. Neville tried not to show
his discomfort at this. Sure, he had been there, but he couldn't remember a thing. How much had he really done? And
who had really done it? He knew he was significant in the eyes of the wizarding world, but he began to doubt his own
power.

"Sir...I've been meaning to ask you, if I could destroy this horcrux, then why did we ever search for Harry Potter? It seems
that anyone can destroy Voldemort."

"Precisely!" Dumbledore smiled, glad that Neville was finally thinking. "Anyone can destroy the horcruxes!"

Neville sighed in relief. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he got close to killing Voldemort, only to have
his farce fall apart when the man either didn't die or he didn't have the power to kill him. "Thank you, headmaster."

It was only after the Longbottom boy had left that Albus began to think of what would happen after the horcruxes were
destroyed. Would they need the prophesized child after all? Albus tried not to think about the fact that Harry Potter was
missing and most likely dead. He also tried not to think about who had lost him...

.oOo.

Severus Snape wasn't exactly sure why Altair thought it necessary to preorder a book for him instead of just sending him
a copy, but at least it got him out of the castle for a while. He wasn't too comfortable in the castle now, knowing that Barty
Crouch Junior was really playing Alastor Moody. He supposed he should tell Dumbledore about this sooner or later, but
right now he was just focused on the task ahead. Besides, he already had a throbbing headache from the Dark Lord's
little meeting that morning and didn't need Dumbledore yelling at him too.

Strolling down to Tomes and Scrolls wrapped in a black cloak, Severus was on high alert bordering on paranoid. The
shop itself was small from the outside, but magic had enlarged the space inside so that it surpassed the size of
Hogwarts' library. The man at the counter had medium length grey hair with strands of brown. He also had a few crooked
teeth and heavy golden spectacles.

As soon as Severus entered, the man's head popped up from his book and he greeted his new customer with a large
smile.

"What can I do for you?"

Severus slid him the receipt, curious himself as to what the book could be.

"Ah!" the man said, "yes, that's a good one. An old one." He grabbed the book from the shelf behind him, labelled with a
red tag. "And expensive too! Mind Magick! It's glad to know the practice isn't out of date."

Practice? Mind Magick? He was now more intrigued than ever.

"Well here you go!" the man said, wrapping it in brown paper. "Enjoy!"

Snape returned to the castle feeling giddy almost. What secrets would this book contain? And what was so special
about chapter 7? By the time Snape arrived at the school, most of the student population was already at dinner, but
apparently not all as Miss Lovegood was wandering the halls. He made a beeline for his chambers, determined not to
deal with any of the cretins before he knew what was inside his book.

He locked his rooms with a muttered spell before settling at his desk and unwrapping it. The cover was brand new in
black with silver letters painted over it. He flipped to the table of contents and searched down for chapter 7. Surprisingly,
there were only seven chapters which made up the heavy tome:
Chapter 1: The Practice of Legilimency

Chapter 2: The Art of Occlumency

Chapter 3: The Personalities of Portraits

Chapter 4: Retaining Sense as an Animagus

Chapter 5: Ob liviation not Ob livion

Chapter 6: Pensieves of Stone

Chapter 7: Pensieves of Flesh

Pensieves of Flesh...Severus suppressed a shudder. To think that this was ever commonly practiced or known of was
scary in itself. Flipping to the correct page, Snape began to read...

.oOo.

By the time the first day had ended, Hasan was exhausted. He hadn't gotten a very good night's sleep thanks to the Dark
Lord, and then his tealeaves had to go remind him of his dream again. Just to pile Pelion on Ossa, Moody had not only
ambushed him, but he had tortured several snakes as well! So by the time he had gotten to dinner, he really couldn't take
any more of Draco's infuriating behavior.

He was constantly reminded of the war through his dreams, through his classmates, and through his classes. It made
his stomach churn, his heart speed up. It was as if he were poisoning himself with stress, thinking of everything he had
to do, everything he was expected to do, and everything he hadn't done. Excusing himself shortly from the Slytherin table,
he trudged to his dormitory, hoping for some peace and quiet, just to think.

This feeling? It was anxiety which made his fists clench on air, his breathing to come out labored despite any opposing
force—it was a part of who he was, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let his weakness show. What he really needed
was to be prepared. He couldn't take another day with Moody acting like a complete bastard even if he was supposedly
an auror, and though he hated to admit it, he was extremely pained by how Draco was treating him. He needed to do
something.

It was a compulsion which led him to Professor Snape's door without regret or shame. He knocked quickly and evenly,
determined for something although he wasn't sure what.

.oOo.

Severus started as he saw Hasan Castell at his door. Words from the book whirred around in his mind: danger, tethered,
draining, power. Not wanting anyone to see, he immediately invited the boy inside.

"Hasan-!" Severus greeted in surprise.

"I need your help!" Hasan blurted.

"My...help?" He quirked a supercilious eyebrow, wondering what the boy could have gotten himself into this time. It was
way too early in the year for another life and death problem.

"Yes! I don't know! Just, teach me! I need to defeat the Dark Lord! I'm running out of time!"

Severus wasn't sure what brought this on, but he knew that Hasan's feelings weren't totally out of place. Dangerous
times were drawing near, especially with the Dark Lord's resurrection coming up.

"Hasan, just tell me what's happening."

The Castell boy took a deep breath before beginning. "I had another vision this morning- of the attack of Professor
Moody. It was dark and I couldn't see much but...I was that snake again—Nagini and oh, god, I bit him!"

"It's alright, it wasn't you. Go on, Hasan."

"Later in the day, I had Defense Against the Dark Arts and Professor Moody showed us the three unforgiveable curses"-
Snape sucked in a breath-"and it made me realize that this is war. No matter if something is illegal or not, people are
going to be using it. Severus, we're not ready! The whole class was ready to fall in tears or vomit. I was ready to fall into
tears and vomit! I could barely handle a snake getting killed, what if it's a person? And then Draco...I know you're his
godfather and all, but he's been given a task, you know he has. I knew the Dark Lord was returning, but I didn't imagine
I'd be scrutinized all year by my...classmates! (He refused to call Draco his friend.) When this war does happen, I want to
be prepared!" He was nearly hysterical at this point, close to breaking down. It was so different from his normal apathy
that Severus wasn't sure what to do. Cuddle him? Pat his back? Say there, there? Hasan could not have gone to a worse
person.

"Hasan, listen to me. You're right that we need to be as ready as we can for this war, but you don't need to feel this
stressed. The Dark Lord doesn't even have a fully functioning body as of yet, and I should know. We will make sure you
are prepared, Hasan. I promised this last year and I am a man of my word. I'll teach you Occlumency to prevent these
visions. Is that alright?"

The boy looked down, very much relieved. He suddenly felt very vulnerable and a little stupid for opening up like that. The
Professor didn't need his ranting on top of what he must have gone through today. Why could he have just asked for the
damn Occlumency lessons in the first place without all the drama and emotion?

Severus sensed something was wrong again and sighed. "Perhaps we should take a break before we start. Besides,
there is something I think we need to talk about."

Hasan nodded, feeling exhausted but much better than he had. He settled on the offered couch as Severus ordered
biscuits and tea from a house elf.

"Your father contacted me." Severus began, earning a suspicious look from the boy. "He...he told me about the
memories." Severus was good at lying, he had to be, but he felt uneasy about lying now. Altair did tell him about the
memories, but only after Severus had provoked him with news of him being Harry Potter.

"What did he say?" Hasan asked apathetically, reverted to his previous state as if to steady himself.

"He sent me this-" Here, Severus summoned the large black tome from his table, already opened to the page about
Extraction. "Mind Magick by Omnia."

Hasan recognized the cover with a start, "That's- Luna got that for me for my birthday. My father sent you that?"

Snape nodded. "Have you read it yet?"

"Twice over, but I don't understand everything," he admitted.

"Your father said to read chapter seven. Pensieves of the Flesh. There is a way to extract the memories from your mind
and return them to the original source, but it is complicated. I have only had time to read the introduction and already it
has mentioned several things which I do not have immediately at my disposal. Although we can't start today, I thought I
should tell you that there is a way."

"Thank you." Hasan murmured. He reached forward for a biscuit and chewed it thoughtfully. At least something was
going right.

"Now about Occlumency," Severus began. "It's an art form, a very useful art form which can protect you. It shields the
mind from those who will attempt to take information from it through Legilimency. People have different ways of shielding
their thoughts. Some people prefer traps, or walls, or even oceans. Whatever you choose, the main objective is to lock
that person out."

"What do you think of, Severus?" Hasan enquired.

"At this point, I try not to think." he admitted, "But usually it is because I am otherwise occupied"-with the cruciatus, he
almost added. "You don't need to pick one just yet. Usually it is developed through trial and error, so we won't know what
works best for you until you actually try it."

Hasan finished his biscuit and took a sip of tea. Severus was too exhausted for food. "I want to try it." Hasan told him
determinedly.

"Alright, but I just want to warn you that I may see some things inside your head while you 'get the hang of it'. Rest
assured, I am not trying to dig for anything that will hurt you, but sometimes your mind will shove those memories to the
forefront as they are the memories which you would most want to protect."

"I understand."

Severus nodded. He wasn't sure if he would suffer any damage entering into a mind already occupied by Lucius and the
Dark Lord, but he knew that Hasan desperately needed this protection.

"On three...One...Two...Three- Legilimens!"

tbc...

So Moody's torturing snakes! Hasan's got nightmares! Neville has discovered Kingsley! Snape has the key to
unlocking Hasan's mind! And Hasan is opening up!

I realize that I've been moving further and further away from the original idea of an aloof-logical Harry, but honestly
Hasan's growing up and so I don't see how he can't become more social and trusting? Also, just wanted to point out
that I will be editing the beginning chapters some point in my life. As this was my first successful HP fanfic, I threw
every idea I had on the table for future use. Example: Hasan knows French so when the tri-wizard tournement came
up, he could talk with Fleur. But as we are travelling along here, I see that this is a vestigial trait and is kind of
useless as Fleur won't be making any appearance in this fic. Sorry.

ALSO:

So I'm playing around with this new idea. I would be willing to split up the future chapters into two parts so that I can
update twice a month. that is, roughly once every two weeks as opposed to once a random time during each month.
What do you think? Is it worth it?
*Chapter 28*: Mirrors and Occlumency
A/N: Just to clear things up, Severus and Hasan do not know that Hasan is a horcrux. Both are aware of Hasan and the
Dark Lord's connection, but not what it entails. Also, I had fake Moody give Hasan detention last chapter...I didn't write the
scene, but let's just assume it happened. XD So sorry about that *runs and hides* I hope this chapter will make up for it.

Also, I have proposed a new idea about updating this story at the end of last chapter. I haven't gotten enough opinions yet
to make a decision. I'd say it's fifty fifty at the moment. If you want to add your voice to the conversation, just read the A/N at
the bottom of last chapter and shoot me a lovey review :)

Thank you to:

Nagilover4ever

blagyz

Nightcrawlerfw

Wishfull-star

Remvis

walters1

medward

EndlessChains

Dixie.f.9

bookcoda

JPElles

For the lovely (eleven)reviews last chapter! Please don't forget to R&R everyone!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 28: Mirrors and Occlumency

"On three...One...Two...Three- Legilimens!"

Severus wasn't exactly sure what he expected inside the mind of Hasan Castell. Maybe a three door hotel, a door for
each Hasan, the Dark Lord, and Lucius' memories. He was pleasantly surprised that he didn't suffer any immediate
backlash from the already cluttered mind, as he had expected. It didn't mean that Hasan's mind was entirely average
either. As a spy and Master Legilimens, Severus Snape had been in a lot of minds, and this was certainly a unique one.
All around him were images, just floating in space, and then there were lists and file cabinets, dichotomous keys and
flowcharts. But just like any other mind, he was compelled to dive into the first memory which approached him.

Severus suddenly found himself in a never ending sea of dried grass. He heard giggling off to his right, but it was
decidedly too high-pitched and girlish to be Hasan's. But where could he be if not with his friends? Turning around,
Severus spotted a few children playing a muggle game that involved running, but still no Hasan.

:That's alright. They don't want me anyway.:

Snape froze. He knew that hissing anywhere- it was parseltongue. He looked down, and there by his feet, was a small
kneeling boy with jet black, decidedly unruly hair. The boy was bent nearly to the ground where several little green snakes
had gathered in a mass.

:Don't feel sssad, sssspeaker. You will leave thisss place sssomeday.: one of the snakes hiseed. At least, Severus
assumed they were hissing, because the thing was, he could understand it. Every word. Granted, there was a very
strong sibilant undertone to the whole thing, but Severus could understand it! Perhaps because he was in Hasan's mind
and Hasan could understand it? Or maybe Hasan could understand it because the Dark Lord had a connection to his
mind?

While Severus was thinking, he hadn't noticed when a shadow fell over the small boy, causing the snakes to scatter.

"Mr. Potter, what do you think you are doing, crouching on the ground like that?"

Severus nearly jumped. He had forgotten that before Hogwarts, the boy was known by his proper name.

"I-I was talking with the snakes, Mrs. Haydn." Hasan said.

"What a vivid imagination that boy has." the woman hummed bemused.

"I'm not imagining it!" Hasan protested weakly.

"I'm sure you're not. Why don't you run along and play with your peers?"

"But they spoke to me..." Hasan repeated lamely.

"Okay, the joke isn't funny anymore. Stop lying and moping around. If you don't want to play at least do something
productive like cleaning the hall."

As the woman walked off, Hasan continued to stare at the ground, his face as emotionless as marble. Had it not been
for some internal power which seemed to radiate around Severus, he would never have known the uncontrollable fury
the boy felt at not being believed. The feeling was unbearable! Severus strained to avoid it as it took over his body,
making him feel every bit as indignant as the memory felt, but it was no use. Severus' own empathy had done that for
him. What a terrible way to be raised, Severus thought. At least at his house, magic was openly known. As the emotions
mounted, he could feel some resistance from Hasan's mind. Without warning, he was flung out of that memory, back
into the inner space, before a new image floated by...

His feet touched dried grass again, (did the field never end?) This time he knew to look down first. Predictably, there was
the boy, kneeling again, but this time by the stream and wait, was that...? The Lord of the Rings? But! The boy couldn't be
more than ten, surely-! Looking at the boy, or rather, the back of his head, Severus was surprised to find the hair still
black and wild. That soon changed, however, as the boy opened his mouth. At first, Severus couldn't make out what he
was saying, but then everything was so crystal clear: Hasan. The boy was saying Hasan. And in the blink of an eyelid, the
Potter double had transformed into the statuelike Hasan of today. Hasan was clearly engrossed with his reflection, so
Severus decided to bend over the stream to look too. Medium-length brown hair framed his face in which were set two
dull jade eyes like gemstones, and in these gemstones were fear. Clearly panicked, the boy squeezed shut his eyes and
pop! He changed back! And then, back again! It was as the boy lifted himself from the grass that Severus felt pressure
against his own head.

One second, Severus was looking at a stream, the next into the soulless eyes of Hasan himself. His eyes were
uncharacteristically wide, telling of his surprise and wariness. Severus knew that Hasan saw everything that he did, and
it was then expected that Hasan would feel a bit cut open and vulnerable.

"That was at Penelope's House, I take it?"

Hasan began to nod before giving him a shrewd look. "How do you know what it's called?"

Severus himself stiffened. "I had gone down there before to...verify your identity."

"Oh, I see."

"Did you have many friends there?" Severus asked, getting down to business.

Hasan shrugged. "The snakes I suppose. Well, you saw. No one wanted to play with me because they sensed I
was...different from them."

"That doesn't mean that you did anything wrong though." Severus said. "It just means they were all too young and stupid
to—"

"No, I think they sensed rightly." Hasan told him dully. "You see, weird things happened when I was around, moving
objects, changing colors...I would have been wary too."

"But do you see that they were wrong to estrange you?"

"I estranged them just as much, Severus." he turned his dull gaze to his Head of House. "I don't need your pity. I
remember when I was in my first year here and I fought the Dark Lord. I told him he could go right ahead and kill Neville.
Obviously I didn't think he would, I was daring him, see? But I said it...I'm not surprised they weren't my friends."

Severus was a bit shocked to say the least. Although he never expected anything less from a Slytherin, he did from
Hasan- the boy was a walking moral book. All even, tit for tat, not someone Severus would have marked as a, well, as a
Slytherin.

"The Dark Lord brings out the worst in all us." Snape confessed quietly, "but let us talk about the other memory I saw.
Your appearance change."

"It's not a glamour." Hasan said evenly. "I don't know what it is."

"Can you take it down?" Snape pressed. Hasan shook his head.

"It's a part of me now. I've tried to switch back before but I can't."

"Why did you hide your true appearance in the first place? Why change your name? Your identity? You were raised in an
orphanage with no inkling of your fame, yes?"

Again, the boy nodded. "I just prefer it this way. I like being invisible. Did you know I dreamed of finding Heliotrope*?"

"I understand your desire to not be seen, especially now in the war, but I want you to know that you shouldn't hide from
shame...of anything."

Hasan shrugged. "If they find me"- he didn't need to say that they included Dumbledore and the rest of the world-"then I'll
never be able to hide again. And even besides that, Altair won't be able to hide either. But why did I do it at first? It felt
safer. If I was disliked, then it didn't feel as bad before they disliked me for someone who was not me. Whether or not I
feel any personal shame shouldn't make a difference."

"But it does!" Severus stressed. "You come down here telling me you're overwhelmed about a war that hasn't officially
started yet and expect me to believe that there is nothing at all going on internally? Hasan, listen to me. We need to
resolve this! The Dark Lord will be returning. I am helping him to return, so believe me when I say it will happen. Your
body is under magical stress from maintaining those memories, from the Dark Lord who came emit visions and
emotions into your mind, and from upholding your appearance. Forgive me if I don't think this is healthy for anyone, least
of all a thirteen year old boy who will be found out eventually! We need to deal with this now!"

Hasan was on his feet, eyes blazing. "Fine then! I'm angry at myself! No one liked me as a child! Draco is helping in my
slaughter! Neville's been brainwashed! I feel so used and underappreciated for being Altair's damned pensieve! I'm
deathly afraid my appearance will fall! I'm afraid of Moody! Of Dumbledore! Don't you think I tried to control my
appearance? How do you think I felt when I learned I couldn't? That I couldn't change back even if I wanted to? That I had
to keep this a secret from Altair! From my dad! I want to be known so badly! But I don't want to give into my own selfish
weakness! I hate this! I hate this! I'm so weak!"

Severus waited for the boy to calm down before continuing. "You are not weak. You are experiencing normal human
emotions"-the boy scoffed-"and yes it is human and therefore completely normal. Without emotions we become like
Voldemort. Draco is doing what he has to do to survive. The situation is unfortunate, but we need to go on. But not
tonight, not if you don't want to."

Hasan bit his lip. "Once more. Please. I need to get stronger."

"Very well then," Severus sighed, "One...two...three...Legilimens!"

All at once it seemed that the two were sucked into another world. A world that was orblike and not exactly in color.
Severus felt Hasan's presence right alongside him, which was unlike anything he had ever experience before...The
world was very large as he was very small. His scales glided smoothly over the seamless floor, forked tongue tasting the
world through cardboard dull scents. Light flickered on the walls, licking audibly at the still air. Behind were footsteps,
ahead were vibrations telling of others...Severus recognized the place immediately. It was the Department of Mysterious.
And Hasan was there. And they were both trapped in the body of a –Nagini! Swiftly did the body approach the two
sentinels who guarded an unknown door. And then—

Lights! Curses! Shouts! Nagini lunged, sinking her great teeth, now Severus' teeth cleanly through the magical cloths
and into the tasty warm flesh of Moody. The auror was not to be dragged down however, and continued to slash his wand
through the air. Nagini injected her poison, intent upon maiming, not killing. Her large body wrestled with the large male
before he was overtaken by the witch and other wizard. They moved so swiftly, that if not for Bellatrix's mad laughter and
his insight from the Dark Lord, Severus would not have been able to identify them. Quickly did he begin to envelope the
helpless creature who struggled futilely in her hold. But just as the Prophet had reported, it was the cutting spell, not
Nagini which took the auror's life.

And just like that, they were back in the office. Hasan was breathing hard, large gulping breaths which caused his body
his shudder. Severus wasn't in any better condition, having never in his life witnessed a murder from a snake's point of
view.

"What was that?" Severus all but demanded when they had both caught their breaths. Hearing about Draco was nice and
all, but he would have thought that Hasan put higher priority in real things. Dangerous, life determining things! Why had
Hasan not mentioned that he was privy to the murder of Amelia Bones and the capture of Moody!

"A vision." Hasan murmured. "It was in more detail than before...I dreamed of it this morning. It's true isn't it?"

Severus ran a tired hand through his greasy hair. "Unfortunately. Next time you have a vision you are to report to me
immediately, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Hasan said. "But why were people even there in the first place?"

"I believe that is a discussion for another day." Severus told him tiredly. "This only proves that we need to develop your
occlumency skills."

"But isn't it useful, in a way, I mean?" Hasan pressed. "Now we know what the Dark Lord is up to."

"I think it is dangerous to use such a channel. You forget that it is only logical he can use it too. He could see what you
do, perhaps. And the Dark Lord is not above trickery. How would you be able to discern a vision from a trap?"

"I see." Hasan conceded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Severus. For...listening."

"You're welcome—"

But no sooner had he said this before there was a knock on the door.

"Severus, we need to talk."

.oOo.

"OH!" Daphne screamed as they entered the common room.

"What is it, Daphne?" Tracey asked.

"S-snake!"

"What? Where?" Theo asked.

"I swear I just saw it! There! By the couch!"

The third year Slytherins gaped as a little green snake slithered about their common room.

"Is that? Is that the snake that Moody had?" someone piped up.

"It can't be, can it? Well, what do we do with it?"

Everyone was huddled against the doorway, unsure of whether it was okay to enter or not.

"Oh, for Salazar's sake!" Draco huffed, shouldering his way to the front. "Stupefy!"

The poor reptile froze in its tracks, and everyone advanced.

"It certainly looks like the snake Moody had. Should we return it?" Pansy asked.

Tracey shot her a dirty look. "That's as bad as killing it ourselves."

"So what are we supposed to do with it?" Millicent Bulstrode demanded. "We can't just keep it here, can we?"

"Well, we are the House of the Snakes..." Daphne said with a grin.
"Oooh! It could be like a mascot!" one of the second years said.

"It seems harmless. Otherwise Moody wouldn't have used it."

"But who'd take care of it?" someone asked.

"We should ask Snape, shouldn't we?"

"I hardly think that it's any of his business," Blaise said, tapping it with his foot. "Besides, we don't even know how to take
care of it."

The Slytherins stood in silence, heads tilted in thought.

.oOo.

"Severus, we need to talk." Lupin's strained voice drifted from the other side of the door.

Severus shot a worried glance at Hasan as Lupin knocked again, frantically. Hasan, not wanting to be left out of what
would most likely be an interesting conversation, shut his eyes...and became a fox. His black furry tail scrambled behind
the couch earning a nod of approval from Snape.

In measured strides, Severus crossed the threshold of his chambers and yanked open the door. Lupin stood there
uneasily, holding a letter in his hand. Quickly, Severus' eyes assessed the parchment, only to find predictably that it must
have been sent by Altair. Knowing he was in for a long explanation, he invited the werewolf inside and redid the wards.

"What is it, Remus?" Severus asked nonchalantly.

"Is there somewhere we can sit?" the wolf queried. "This might be difficult to take in."

Internally, Severus was agreeing. "Have a seat," he offered, gesturing weakly to the sitting area. The wolf chose to sit on
the edge of a small couch, while Severus chose the armchair. The Potions Master waited patiently for Remus to gather
his nerve.

"Have you- Have you ever heard of another Castell?"

Severus considered this for a moment before nodding.

"Right well...this man, Altair Castell, sent me this letter, or rather, he sent Sirius this letter."

"Having fidelity problems already, Remus?" Severus mocked tonelessly, wanting to get to the point.

Lupin shot him a glare. "At first I was suspicious as to why it was sent at a time when I would be otherwise occupied.
After reading it though, I think I know why. This involves the Black family."

Severus nodded slowly. He wasn't sure why of all times Altair decided to branch out now. Was he never afraid for his life?

"He asked for the mirrors."

"The mirrors?"

"Yes, James and Sirius used to use them to speak to each other in different detentions. I had no idea how this man,
Altair, could have known about them unless he truly was part of the family. So I went to headquarters and found him on
the tree. You wouldn't happen to know if Hasan is related to him would you?"

"I wouldn't know for sure, if that is what you mean." Severus said cryptically.

"He looks like him. Hasan looks like Altair, but for some reason he wasn't on the tree." Remus' grey eyes found his onyx
ones. "I think you know more than you are letting on, Severus."

"Think what you want—"

"No, I'm serious. This is beyond childhood relationships. Just put that behind you, would you Severus? This is about
something bigger. I think you know exactly who these Castells are."

There was silence for a moment. Could Severus truly trust the wolf to keep their secrets? Perhaps he could tell just a
little bit...would Hasan mind? Of course he'd mind, but would Severus care if he minded?
"Severus, I was the brains back in our childhood days if you recall. I'm not an idiot. I've seen your interest in Hasan. There
are just too many things that don't add up that seem too good to not be related."

"Remus—"

"Severus, let me finish. I came here today without telling Sirius anything because I am very intent upon learning the truth
right now. So help me if you continue with your charades! I am laying all my cards on the table right now. Just listen!
Twelve years ago I saw Harry Potter being taken away by Sirius on his motorbike. I figured that once he became old
enough, Sirius and I would be able to have a relationship with him. But Sirius was condemned without trial, Pettigrew
fled, and I was shunned from the community because of my condition. One year ago, I started my teaching job at
Hogwarts. I learned that Harry Potter had been missing, my only hope of any normality. All of our colleagues have noticed
that you take more interest in your own snakes, and especially in one, but I had no cause to think he was anything
special. And then we faced boggarts and his was Harry. MY Harry. As if that wasn't enough to make me see red flags!
Time and time again there it was in front of me! Sirius telling the boy of James, Hasan speaking to snakes, your
obsession in reading those Lord of the Rings books! Severus, don't you see what this means?"

Severus stayed stonily silent.

"Altair Castell doesn't have a son. That boy isn't really Hasan. Hasan is..." suddenly his eyes narrowed. "But you knew
this all already, didn't you?"

"I-" Severus swallowed audibly. How was he going to control this? What could he do to keep Hasan's identity a secret?

"But this is huge! It means that Neville isn't really the Boy-Who-Lived! It means that Lily and James weren't sacrificed for
nothing! Oh, Merlin! They have the wrong b oy!-"

"REMUS!" Snape thundered. "I will tell on one condition. You must vow on your magic that you will not reveal what I am
about to tell you to a soul."

Lupin licked his lips. "I vow on my magic that I will not reveal what you tell me." A pulse of magic boomed like a
shockwave, sealing their vow.

Severus' lips curled upward. "Good. Hasan, if you could come out now."

And then, a little black fox came darting out from behind the couch with the most brilliant emerald green eyes. Lupin
nearly had a heart attack.

"Oh Merlin, I didn't- not really. Wow!"

Fluidly, the young fox transformed back into a boy and when he opened his dull jade eyes, it was with a look of
contemplation.

"Remus Lupin meet Harry Potter."

"How do you do?" Hasan asked.

"I-I-I'm stunned." Lupin murmured. "I don't know what to say. Harry, we thought we lost you!"

"But you did." Hasan told him evenly. "No one bothered to check on me. Just because I'm here now doesn't mean you did
anything to find me."

"I'm- We're so sorry, Harry!" Remus said, still frozen in shock.

"It's Hasan. I prefer Hasan."

The wolf swallowed. "Okay, Hasan. Is there anything Sirius and I can do to make it up to you? We were your parents' best
friends. We saw you when you were little..."

Hasan shrugged. "Well, perhaps. My father asked for those mirrors, correct?"

Remus nodded, "Yes. They're family heirlooms."

Severus watched Hasan intently. He could see the cogs working inside. The curiosity, but also the suspicion. What did
Altair have planned? Or Hasan for that matter.

"These mirrors...they can be used to communicate across long distances?" Hasan asked. Lupin nodded. "And if you
break them...will they still function?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow. Was Hasan actually planning on plotting against his own father? "Hasan, these are
magical artifacts-"

"Actually," Remus cut in thoughtfully, "I think they did break once when James dropped it. The other shard still works.
Granted, it's too small to be useful, but I've kept it as a memento..."

Hasan looked at Severus and let a tiny smile slip onto his face. "Do you think you could slice a piece off for me?"

"Yes." Lupin said slowly. He wasn't sure why the boy seemed so suspicious of his father, but it wasn't really his place.
His only objective was to aid Har- Hasan.

"But you're forgetting that if you can see them, they can see you too," Severus pointed out.

"Well," Lupin began, "You need to speak that person's name for it to work. So in order for your father to reach you, he
needs to know you have the other half. But if you wanted to call first, then I'm sure there are some spells that can ensure
he neither sees nor hears you...although I'm not sure what they are. Sirius might though."

Hasan looked down at his shoes. He knew that Sirius was a bit reckless and didn't always think before doing or saying
something. Was it worth the risk?

"We don't need to sort this all out now." Snape reminded him. "Besides, Sirius hasn't even read the letter. Are you
planning on doing his correspondence for him?"

Lupin paused thoughtfully. "I love him, but I'm not sure how he'll react."

"So will you break a piece off for me and then we'll fix it at a later time?"

"Of course, Har- Hasan."

"Good." The jade-eyed boy smiled. "Thank you Professor Lupin, Severus."

And the boy was off to his common room...

.oOo.

When Hasan got back to his common room he was to be met with a large circle of perplexed Slytherins.

"What's happening?" Hasan wondered aloud.

"Oh, Hasan! There's this snake and-" Tracey began.

Hasan quirked an eyebrow. "A...snake?" He edged around the crowd before catching a glimpse of the creature. It was a
snake, a green one, but it certainly was not big enough to cause a commotion. As far as he could tell, it was stunned and
thus rendered harmless. It was the same snake Hasan had rescued from Moody earlier that day, but how had it gotten
down here? Better yet, what was he supposed to do about it? He was acutely aware of Draco scrutinizing his every move,
but after talking to Severus he wasn't as perturbed as before.

"Yeah, seems too good to be a coincidence." Daphne said shrewdly. "I must be one of Moody's snakes!" Oh, shit... "The
one he hadn't gotten to yet." Wait wha-?

"Yeah," Blaise agreed. "It must have escaped when he wasn't looking. Merlin knows I would have!"

"What are you going to do with it?" Hasan asked them.

"Hmmm, well..." Millicent said thoughtfully. "We haven't really gotten that far. I think it would be cool to keep it as a mascot,
but I'm not sure how we would even feed it."

"Are you going to tell Professor Snape?" Hasan queried.

Pansy shrugged, "I think we should."

"No!" Daphne said. "Look, Hasan, if we told him, wouldn't he be obligated to return it to Moody out of some teacher code
or something?"
Hasan nodded. He didn't necessarily agree, but an idea just came to him which involved deceiving his housemates.

"You know, my father has a snake at home. I know how to take care of them so maybe we can have a mascot."

"Wow! Really?" Daphne lit up. A bunch of first years also looked up hopefully.

"I never knew you had a snake." Draco commented, eyes narrowing. Hasan refused to meet his eyes.

"Yes, because I for one take pride in Salazar's chosen familiar. I take it by your stance that you were the one to stun it in
the first place?"

The crowd was awed at his deductions, even though an idiot could have seen he was the only one with his wand out.
Hasan kneeled and gathered the serpent into his arms. He walked to his room with several pairs of eyes following him.
When he had locked his door, he canceled the stunning spell imprisoning her.

:Where am I? Thisss isss not my home.:

It slowly uncoiled on Hasan's bed, tasting the air of his room. :Don't be sscared, little one. What isss your name?:

The snake turned sharply towards the boy. This was no ordinary wizard she knew.

:Melusssine.: she hissed, :And who might you be?:

:My name is Hassan Cassstell. It'sss a pleasure to meet you, Melusssine.:

:Ssso it iss.:

Hasan gave her a large smile. :There'ss a place here that iss perfect for sssnakess assss I am unable to leave the
building any time sssoon.:

:That issss fine. I have forgotten where I live anyway although a long time ago I once lived in Avalon...:

:Avalon?: Hasan wondered, :Like King Arthur?:

:Yessss, and Merlin too. I have lived a very long time in thiss form.:

Hasan bit his lip. Of course, he had stumbled upon the one snake that wasn't entirely normal. He would have to do more
research later. Or at least wait until Hermione got over her broken ankle (which shouldn't be more than a night's rest with
some potions). Melusine? he thought. What an odd name...He would wait until everyone was asleep, and then sneak out
under his new invisibility cloak to the Chamber of Secrets...He went over to his trunk and rummaged around until he felt
the silvery silk flow beneath his fingers. However, as he pulled it out, something else tumbled to the floor. It was the
pouch Luna had given him for Valentine's day last year...

:What isss that?: Melusine questioned, slithering to the floor. :Isss that one of thossse magical locking pouchessss?:

Hasan turned to her and nodded. He hadn't gotten much use out of it because it held Ravencaw's diadem, something
which he suspected was a horcrux. No way was he keeping any of his possessions next to Voldemort's soul!

:Yesss, it'sss holding ssssomething very important right now sssso I can't ussse it.: Hasan told her. She nodded as if
she understood and looked at it thoughtfully. Hasan thought too. What was he going to do with it now? Was it even safe
to keep near him? Perhaps that was why he was having visions, because a horcrux was nearby. Last year, the diary. This
year, the diadem? Maybe he should move it then? Keep it in the Chamber of Secrets so that way he knew it was safe? Or
ironically return it to the Room of Requirement- although he rather doubted he would go that route because it was clear
more than one person knew of the room's existence. So what was he going to do with it? Who was he going to tell? Who
could he even tell? Tell? Trust?

And then Melusine slithered her head into the pouch.

Melusine slithered her head into the heavily warded, locked, secure, magical pouch.

Her head was sticking inside his pouch!

:It apppearsss to be empty, Hasssan.:

.oOo.
Lupin took a deep breath. He had just been formally introduced to his best friend's missing child and it was none other
than Hasan Castell.

"I just met him..." Remus murmured to himself. "That was Harry Potter..."

"And you cannot breathe a word of this to anyone." Severus interjected firmly.

"I know...it's just a lot to take in."

The two men, neutral at most, were now sitting together in a sort of kindred silence.

"Remus, there is something more I would like to tell you." Severus said softly. He wasn't sure if he could fully trust the
wolf, but Altair was making his opinions mean less and less. He needed to be on the same page with Lupin, because
otherwise, whatever it was that Altair had planned, could all be for naught.

"What is it?" Remus asked gently. He knew that Severus didn't like opening up, so clearly what he was about to say had
to be pressing.

"What I am about to say is also to be between you and me."

"Yes, of cours-"

"I mean it. No telling Black or Dumbledore."

Remus fixed him with an even stare. "I swear."

Severus nodded. "Good. Lupin, we have not always seen eye to eye, but it seems we need to work together."

"Work together? For what? For Har-Hasan?"

"Yes, but more importantly for Altair."

Remus' eyebrows rose. "You mean, you know this person?"

Severus bowed his head. "Yes. Altair Castell is an old acquaintance of mine. Very old. In fact, to most people consider
him long since deceased."

"I don't under-"

"Altair Castell was almost a Death Eater." Severus started. "But something stopped him. That something was
information. Altair and his...(he fished around for a word) partner had conducted a study proving that blood purity meant
nothing in regards to magical capacity. For that information, he would have been sentenced to die, but instead, he chose
to drink several random potions...and he lived." Severus wasn't about to tell him about horcruxes just yet, but the blood
study was a good enough excuse. In fact, he was nearly positive that Altair used the same story to get Hasan off his
track.

"So the Dark Lord wants him dead for his study?" Remus wondered.

"At first."

"What are you leaving out?" Remus demanded.

"Altair has a plan to rid the world of Voldemort once and for all. It has already started and I am not sure what that plan is
exactly so don't ask. All I need from you is cooperation."

"And this will help Har-Hasan?"

Severus smirked. "This will help the world."

He knew the wolf would agree before he even did. "What do I need to do?"

"Any time you receive a letter, tell me first before you complete the task. I'll even help if you'd like."

Remus locked him with a look that said: I know you're b ullshitting me, b ut I'll do it for Harry.

"If that's all, then you have my full cooperation."

.oOo.

The next morning, Hasan woke up tiredly. He had worried all night and hadn't gotten the proper amount of sleep for a
growing child. How the hell had the diadem disappeared? Why weren't his wards in place? Wasn't the pouch supposed
to be magical? Who could have stolen it? Who could even want it? Who knew he had it? Did anyone else know about the
horcruxes? When had it gone missing? At school? Was it Draco? Not bloody likely, but still. Or at home? Home? Altair...?

DAMMIT!

Of course, it had to be Altair...but why would he want the horcrux? Severus had said that Altair knew of them already, so
did that mean he knew where they were...GAH! His mind began to hurt again.

:What isss wrong, human?: Melusine asked, slithering onto his pillow.

That's right, in his shock he wasn't up for going to the Chamber of Secrets and causing even more complications to
arise. He would have to do it soon though, he realized, but for now he was just focused on getting through the day. Well,
at least he had Care of Magical Creatures first...

.oOo.

There were several things which irked Hogwarts' resident Potions Master. One such thing was knowing something was
off, but not knowing exactly what. Watching his Slytherins that morning, he knew something was wrong. Why else were
they barely talking to each other? He stole a glance towards the Moody-imposter, thinking perhaps that he had
something to do with it. After what Hasan said, he harbored no doubt in his mind that Moody has specifically targeted his
snakes. Hasan, he noticed, wasn't speaking with Draco as much as he had last year. The two girls, Tracey Davis and
Daphne Greengrass, also seemed to be quieter. He understood why Lucius decided to keep his son in the dark, but in a
way, he didn't. What good was it to put Draco through this? Except to prevent Voldemort from killing him?

Severus sighed. He supposed that was a good enough reason. He was torn from his thoughts as Minerva made a
particularly loud remark:

"-so terrible! Did you hear of Miss Granger's accident down the Divination trapdoor? I always thought that the door was
dangerous." Minerva was saying.

Flitwick responded in what was probably a very sympathetic tone of voice. Unfortunately, Severus could not continue to
eavesdrop on this very interesting conversation because Dumbledore had just turned his icy blue eyes upon him.

"You know, Mr. Longbottom may very well save the world." Albus murmured, tilting his head in the direction of the
Gryffindor table. "However, I believe he could use all the help he can get..." continued Dumbledore in his soft,
grandfatherly voice.

"What are you implying, Albus?" Severus asked sharply.

"Only that each of us has to do their part." Severus turned to face the headmaster fully, leaving no question as to who he
was talking to. The headmaster took this as a sign to continue. "Have you sent a letter to the Malfoys yet?"

Severus fixed him with a blank stare. "No." he answered evenly.

"Then that is all." Albus said pleasantly, and began to hum a happy little tune.

Severus turned back to his meal and frowned.

.oOo.

Remus Lupin thought it extremely ironic for him to be teaching Care of Magical Creatures, with his Animagus dog
husband as a sidekick no less. As Remus taught, Sirius would bark, acting for all the world like man's best friend. His
first lesson wasn't very advanced, but hopefully it would be interesting. He watched the third year Slytherins and
Gryffindors trudge down from the castle, stopping right in front of a forest clearing somewhere near Hagrid's hut. He saw
Har-Hasan there in the front row, along with that Malfoy child, and the Longbottom boy. Right beside Theodore Nott was
Hermione Granger-seemingly recovered from her fall down the hole.

"I know you all know me as you Defense instructor," Remus began with a large smile, "But I believe that each faction of
magic has a defensive or useful function. So today, I thought we'd explore some of the lesser known but extremely useful
abilities of the creatures native to the forbidden forest."
There were several whispers at this.

"Giant spiders?" someone whispered in a frightened voice.

"Centaurs?" guessed another.

Instead of partaking in the guessing game, Hasan stared at the shaggy black dog sitting beside the werewolf...was
that...Padfoot...- wait, Sirius?

Remus waited until the noise died down before saying, "Today, we will be learning about unicorns."

At his word, one large white horse emerged from the forest- the characteristic horn jutting a good two feet from its regal
head. The word alone would have had several girls squealing, but as it was, even the boys were awed. Beauty in any
form could be appreciated by both sexes and seeing such a magnificent creature in the flesh- well this was
indescribably captivating.

"Does she have a name?" Millicent asked.

Lupin chuckled a bit, "His name is Alexander, Millicent. Now, that's a common bias which I want to address, especially
but not exclusive to muggleborns. Unicorns, just like the majority of the animal kingdom, have two sexes physically."

"Oh, sorry." Millie blushed.

"Not at all. It's a very common mistake. Now, as well as being beautiful, these creatures have several practical uses.
Their tail hairs and mane can be harvested and used as thread. Several fashion designers use unicorn hairs in their
clothing, although it is extremely expensive (50 galleons per hair). There are also side effects to using their hairs. As
many of you no doubt know, unicorn tail hairs have been traditionally used by Ollivander for wand cores. So if you do ever
wear something made of unicorn hair, be prepared for uncontrollable bouts of magic. The power can be harnessed
however if the core is compatible with your wand. My wand for example contains a unicorn tail hair and if I wrap this hair
around my wrist..." Lupin continued, demonstrating with a bit of hair which he had gotten from Hagrid's hut, "then I can
perform wandless magic in the literal sense of the word."

Draco watched curiously as he had a wand which contained that core. He wondered if he could swipe one from Snape's
potion stores...

"However, I strongly suggest that you do not take directly from the unicorn! They have nasty horns which can easily
impale any thief. The horn itself is very useful. Ground, chopped, or used whole, it is a popular ingredient in several
useful potions. Some of your mothers may buy the horn powder at the apothecary which is then mixed into water. It helps
stabilize magic which is useful when sick or when you have a growing child with bouts of accidental magic. Does anyone
have any questions so far?"

Hermione shot her hand in the air, "Isn't drinking unicorn blood a way to sustain life even on the brink of death?"

Lupin smiled warmly, "That is theoretically true, but I would not recommend slaying a unicorn for its blood. Not only is it
illegal, but it will earn you eternal damnation. Unicorns are pure and innocent by nature. So yes, the blood has amazing
healing abilities, but I wouldn't take it by force. Although I have heard of a small company in France which breeds
unicorns and periodically takes a blood sample to be sent to hospitals around the world."

"What differentiates donations versus stealing?" Tracey asked.

"I would say intention, but I know this isn't very quantitative...but how about we demonstrate? Alex here is a registered
donor at St. Mungo's." With that, the werewolf crouched in front of the unicorn, drew out what appeared to be a very thin
and long syringe and waited. The class wasn't sure what they were seeing. Only a few knew that St. Mungo's offered
unicorn blood as a treatment option (depending on if someone they knew got severely injured or sick). The rest of them
were looking at their professor as if he were crazy. Sure, the horse was pretty and all, but that sharp horn glinted in the
sunlight...

Hasan watched its eyes. They were grey-blue and very large. He wondered where the blood was extracted from, but then
the creature bowed its head and Lupin advanced, slowly lowering a hand on its nose. After stroking it for a minute, he
moved down its back, nonchalantly slipping the blood collecting contraption in diagonally. The unicorn was none the
wiser, so perhaps it was called donation because Alexander was still alive, and he had given the go-ahead to be petted?
When the syringe was filled, Remus lifted it up for the class to see. Inside sloshed silvery blue liquid which shone
pearlescent in the light.

"I'm going to use the delivery service through the floo network to get it to St. Mungos, but for now we'll move on with the
lesson. That was an excellent question, Hermione. In fact, I would have brought it up myself had you not mentioned it.
Well, as a parting thought as it is time to move on to your next class, think of all the good magical creatures can do if you
just respect them."

Sirius gave a hearty bark.

A/N-

I was thinking of splitting each chapter into two parts so that I could update regularly every other Friday. That or I
could just continue updating once within every month. I promise you that once this school year is over, I intend to
finish this story and update as often as possible until it is all on here! As of now, it isn't completed and I find that I
cannot simply rush into the ending. It wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't be nearly as good. So just wait another month
or so yeah?

a) Split 'em in two!

b) Please don't ruin the continuity!

Please review and tell me what you think, and about the chapter of course! I only got eleven reviews last chapter,
*pouts*. I am thankful to the ELEVEN of you who deigned to leave me a love note. Thank you.

Also, I'm contemplating posting a HP/TR story on here. I might post under a different site/account because it is
rather different from what I'm used to writing...it's dedicated to The Fictionist who by the way is a fucking goddess.
So if anyone wants HP/TR to hold them over go and read her stuff! (Kisses Cursed took my breath away)

Note about Heliotrope: "The other stone is heliotrope, which renders those who have it invisible." —Boccaccio: The
Decameron, Novel iii., Eighth day."
*Chapter 29*: The Other Prophecy
A/N: SUMMER. Thank goodness! Just one final to go...Anyway...668 REVIEWS? I love you guys! Thanks for all the
follows, favs, and adds to various communities! You guys rock!

In other news: Have you seen my TR/HP fic experiment? I have written about half of it (posted only 1 chappie though)
and will try and finish/post it as soon as possible! As for ROE, I will be trying my best to end this as brilliantly as I
know how. ;) So please, PLEASE show some love and shoot me a review at the end!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 29: The Other Prophecy

To Draco Malfoy, Potions class was always a refuge. It was a time when he could show off his advanced potions
knowledge while in the company of his best friend and godfather. But now all he could think about was how to ignore
those two obsidian eyes that were surely burning a hole through his head. Hasan, he had noticed, was working with
Longbottom, while he was left to work with know-it-all Granger.

"Come on, Malfoy. Add the shriveled newt." Hermione prodded him for the umpteenth time. She was used to competing
with Malfoy for the best potion. Now, it was like he was a completely different person.

"I did! Salazar!" he huffed, just as he threw it in the cauldron.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. She was about to give Malfoy a piece of her mind when suddenly the potion in
front of them exploded. Damn! He had added it too late!

Severus was immediately in action, granted he had his eye on them the entire time. In a blink of an eye, the horrible
mess was banished with not even a drop on anyone or anything. Draco it seemed was smirking.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Severus intoned, "See me after class."

The room was eerily silent after that. No one had ever thought they'd see the day Malfoy get yelled at by his Slytherin
loving godfather! But it seemed that there was always a first for everything.

The event was not lost on Hasan who was currently bottling his finished potion.

"Snape can be scary can't he?" Neville wondered aloud.

"Do you think so?" Hasan asked with a light smile.

"N-no!" Neville protested vehemently. Even though he was treated as a fearless hero, the real Neville wasn't completely
lost. Severus scared the shit out of him and Hasan knew it. Ordinarily, Hasan would take the time to play therapist and
tell Neville that it's okay to be scared and fail others' expectations. But he wasn't in the best of moods. Draco was a
particular sore spot for him and he wasn't sure how long Draco was going to continue acting weird.

"It wasn't my fault the mudblood can't read directions." Draco muttered loudly.

And before Severus or Hasan or Theo could kill him first, Hermione had slapped him right across the face. Draco gave
Severus a daring grin, but Snape didn't take the bait. He just looked tired and walked away.

"Time's up. Bottles are in the front, I expect ten bottles lined up before you leave this classroom. Yes, including yours Mr.
Malfoy. You are not to leave here until you have brewed this potion properly as I know you can. Miss Granger you are free
to go."

Needless to say, when everyone filtered out of the room but Severus and his godson, the tension could be cut with a
butter knife.

"Why are you acting this way?" Severus demanded, right to the point. "The Dark Lord-"

"The Dark Lord doesn't have anything to do with this." Draco hissed. "I can brew perfectly well-"

"Draco! You know this isn't about potions! You forget I've known you from a very young age. You act out just like an infant
when you're distressed. Like crying for attention."
"I do not cry!" Draco protested.

"Or whine! Or complain! Or insult! Draco, you have acted out purposely because there is something in your life that you
can't handle on your own. So you let the world know how inept you are by acting puerile!"

"Shut up, Snape! You're just jealous that the Dark Lord has given me a task! I'm younger than you were and I can bloody
well handle this on my own!"

Severus' blood was boiling.

"You ungrateful-!" he stopped himself. Fighting wasn't getting anywhere. Clearly the boy was distressed by the look of the
bags under his eyes, and he was only thirteen...perhaps a more Narcissa-like approach then? "Draco, I am here for you.
Something is clearly bothering you and I am here in case you ever want to talk about it."

"-want to steal my glory," Draco muttered.

"This isn't about GLORY." Severus thundered. Oh! How he hated being a spy! If he weren't trying to pretend to be loyal, he
would be able to appeal to Draco's sense of logic, rather than his feelings. He inwardly cursed Dumbledore and
Voldemort. "Fine. I'm getting nowhere. Go! Just go!"

And Draco left. He sauntered out and then after turning the corner, he ran. Severus poured himself some firewhiskey.

.oOo.

Without Draco, lunch was even more awkward than normal. Hasan was busy picking at his food while the two girls
chatted quietly. Sometime during the first five minutes of lunch, Theo came over with Hermione. The bushy-haired witch
wore a sour frown as she gestured pointedly to the Gryffindor table.

"Ron is such a prat..." she was muttering. Apparently, Ron and Lavender had ganged up on Hermione, demanding to
know what she had done to the cauldron to make it blow up. Because, apparently, they couldn't see why a muggleborn
had such a terrible case of house prejudice and took it out on Draco Malfoy. Not only was this extremely dense thinking,
but they were both hypocrites! Everyone knew that they had a vendetta against the snake house! So of course, Theodore
being the loving boyfriend he was, took her over to his corner of the Great Hall.

"Ron's mad!" Daphne comforted her, "Everyone knows that you and Draco are the greatest potions students."

"Yeah, everyone knows that Ron has a big mouth-" Tracey said.

"And Lavender's is the biggest." Daphne cut in.

Hermione sniffled her thanks, and Hasan couldn't blame her. Going to the infirmary and then being attacked by a
housemate in two days? That was rough.

"Maybe you should put that snake in Ron's sheets!" Tracey suggested wryly.

"Snake?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, that- oh wait, you weren't there. Well, yesterday in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Moody was practicing the three
Unforgiveables on snakes he had. Two of them died, but one of them managed to find its way into our common room
last night. Hasan is taking care of it." Tracey told her, thinking (falsely) that the one Hasan had saved died and the one yet
untouched had escaped.

"The Unforgiveables?" Hermione repeated, "But they're illegal!"

Daphne sighed, "Yes, but I don't think Moody cares."

"He should though. He can be thrown in Azkaban for that, no matter who he is." Hermione said. "I read up on it." She
glanced over to Moody and then over to Hasan. "So you have the snake in your room now?"

Hasan nodded. "Yes. Actually..." Hasan gave her a warm smile, "I was thinking of naming her Melusine because I once
read something about someone named Melusine. Unfortunately I can't remember what it was or where I read it..." He
tried to look forlorn. He really did.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I remember reading something about that too. Let me check in the library and I'll get back to
you later. I might be sitting here a lot because Ron doesn't seem to be getting any better."
Hasan rewarded her with a broad smile. "Thanks Hermione. You're the best!"

Because even though he could read about it himself, he knew that his library history could be checked at any time. The
last thing he needed was Snape or Lupin snooping about his stuff and figuring out anything that may prove important.
Besides, between taking trips to the Chamber of Secrets and visiting Severus, when was he to actually study?

.oOo.

Severus Snape was tired. He was exhausted tired, although he was sleepy tired too...Sometimes he wondered why he
bothered to try. It was clear that Draco was firmly in the Dark Lord's hold, or at least, was aiming to be. It was downright
painful being Draco's godfather and all. Hopefully Lucius knew what he was doing...

He glanced at the nine labeled vials on his desk and turned away to his private office. He wasn't in the mood to start
grading right away. As he sat down at his private desk, he glanced over at the large Mind Magick book and immediately
got a headache. He shoved this away too and took out a piece of parchment. Well, he was going to have to do it sooner
or later.

"Lucius,

Dumb ledore has asked me to inform you that he wishes to search your vaults. All of them. He is looking for two ob jects
b elonging to Hogwarts' Founders: Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket. I hope you are ab le to accommodate him
b ecause these ob jects are of the utmost importance to him. Of course, there is only a slim chance that these ob jects
reside inside any of the innumerab le Black vaults.

Please notify the headmaster whenever you have opened up the window.

Regards,

S. Snape"

The window, of course, referred to the window of time in which a designated visitor so to speak could have access to the
vaults. It was more secure than simply sending them the key or even a wand. Severus highly doubted that the objects
were actually inside the vault, but what did he know. Dumbledore was the expert on this type of stuff. Besides, it was all a
test anyway. He just hoped that Lucius would see this truth and get the order through so that the entire ordeal could be
over and done with.

.oOo.

After lunch, Luna met up with the Slytherins to walk down to Divination. She was very excited for Divination, but even more
excited for being with Hasan. She realized that there was a dramatic shift in the relationship between Draco and her
boyfriend, and she wanted to help support him any way she could.

Draco Malfoy, everyone soon realized, was not in the class. Indeed, nobody had seen him since the incident during
Potions class. Hermione wasn't there either because she had switched out to take Ancient Runes. This made a class of
19, 9 Slytherins, 9 Gryffindors, and 1 Ravenclaw.

"Today!" Sybill began. "We will be learning the art of prophesizing!"

Several people oohed at this, mostly girls, and several people snickered, mostly Gryffindors.

"Many of you might not be aware of this fact, but I am the great-great-granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney! Though the
Inner Eye has skipped three generations I assure you I am quite capable of making predictions-!"

"Professor?" Lavender asked politely, "Isn't it when you make a prediction that your mind goes into an unconscious
state?"

Sybill blinked, raising her hands above her head and drawing up her large sweeping sleeves.

"Of course. Which is why when one makes a prophecy, one must trust that those around him or her are listening. There
have been times in history when prophecies have been disregarded, unheard, or simply forgotten. However, heard or
not, these prophecies all come true."

"But haven't you predicted the deaths of several students and none of them have died yet?" Theodore asked pointedly.

"Well..." the professor brushed back her frizzled hair. "That is to say, not yet."
Lavender inched forward in her seat. "Do you need a crystal ball?"

"Not always, but it doesn't hurt, especially when beginning. But yes, today we will be practicing with them." She clapped
her hands together and smiled. "Everybody pick a partner and then we will begin!"

Luna and Hasan ended up together sitting on opposite ends of the tiny round table. Luna was wide-eyed, staring into the
orb for all it was worth. Hasan took a deep breath. This was absolutely boring. The whole class- boring! The teacher
seemed no better than a muggle scammer and already she had caused one student to injure herself.

"Give her a chance, Hasan. She might surprise you." Luna informed him cheerfully. "Did you know that she was the one
to predict the Potters' demise?"

That grabbed Hasan's attention. His jade green eyes snapped up to meet hers.

"Seriously?"

Luna nodded happily. "Yup! But most of the time I don't know what she means. I think you need to take her with a grain of
salt, don't you?"

Hasan could only agree dumbly.

"I never knew that," Hasan admitted, taking another glance at the supposed seer. The woman was currently waving her
sleeved arms mystically over her table. "She really made that prophecy?"

"And more!" Luna said. "But don't feel bad about not knowing. Dumbledore wants to keep it a secret that she's actually
really gifted. That's why they never mentioned her name in the Prophet last year."

Well, that did make sense, Hasan supposed. Because right now, the lady looked like a lunatic.

"The secret-" Trelawney was saying from the front "-is to keep the energy focused on the b all."

"Isn't that a muggle saying?" someone piped up.

"Yeah, eye on the ball!" someone else shouted.

Trelawney cleared her throat to draw the attention back to her. "As I was saying, the energy needs to be focused into the
core of the crystal. In return, the spirits may well bless you with a sign..."

Hasan gave Luna a pointed look to say: Are you sure it was Trelawney? But Luna was already trying it out for herself. The
concentration on her face was a serene type of meditation, rather than the strain which shaped Trelawney's.

"I heard you saw unicorns today." Luna began softly.

"Yes, in Care of Magical Creatures." Hasan told her.

"Did you know I went to see them yesterday?"

"But weren't you at the Welcoming Feast?" Hasan queried.

Luna nodded, "Yes, but after. I passed Neville on my way there. He seemed rather busy and couldn't come with me."

Neville? Hasan thought back to the first day and frowned. He remembered thinking that Neville had a meeting with
Dumbledore, but couldn't remember Luna leaving too.

"He just had a meeting with Dumbledore. That's all."

"Oh! Really? Because I was worried he didn't want to be friends anymore."

Hasan shrugged. "I'm not sure what he wants anymore either. I'd just stay away from him for a while until he cools
down." Or his head shrinks, Hasan continued inwardly.

"And what about Draco Malfoy?" Luna questioned.

"What about him?" Hasan asked defensively.

"I think you should stay away from him too...until he cools down."
Hasan sighed. If only that were possible. It felt like Draco was watching him constantly now, looking for holes in his
stories and errors in his lies, which were admittedly lies.

"So you went to see unicorns alone then?" Hasan asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, yes! They're very nice, but a bit vain I think."

"Did you get to...speak with them?" Hasan lowered his voice.

"Yes, but they didn't say much. Actually, the thestrals are so much more social, or so I've heard. The unicorns don't really
socialize outside the herd." Luna told him. "I'm actually going again next weekend. Would you like to come?"

Hasan bit his lip. "Sorry, Luna. I have lessons with Snape."

She sighed. "Hmm, okay."

"Sorry..."

"No, it's okay. They don't really like strangers...or males. They might all run away from you." Luna grinned at him. "I'll tell
you how it goes, okay?"

Hasan nodded. It amazed him that Luna could be so forgiving and optimistic and still like him. "Thank you."

Meanwhile, Trelawney was still continuing her prophesizing at the front of the room. Her eyes were as large as her head
as she gazed into the crystal ball. Then, very abruptly, she stood up.

"It seems that the spirits have abandoned us today."

"Oh no!" Lavender cried out.

"Yes, my dear. I am very sorry but if the spirits will us to be blind to the future, then so be it. Everyone, crystal balls up front.
We must continue this lesson some other day."

The class in general felt very much relieved. Several people were suffering from tired arms and humiliation.

"But as we have fifteen more minutes. Does anyone have any questions?" Trelawney asked as she simultaneously set
each crystal ball in its holder. "Yes, Mr. (she checked her roll call) Castell?"

That was twice in two days his name was mentioned! Everyone's eyes snapped to him. "Professor Trelawney," he began
respectfully. "Is it true that you were the one who predicted that the Potters would die?"

The teacher smiled and took a step forward proudly. "Indeed it is, Mr. Castell. As I have said, I possess the Inner Eye and
I predicted the fall of the Dark Lord!"

"But isn't Neville the Boy-Who-Lived?" Ron called out obnoxiously.

Neville began to pale.

"Well, Mr. Weasley (she identified him easily by his red hair and freckles), I only make the predictions, I do not translate
them. After all," she said, addressing the entire room, "It is not up to us mere mortals to decipher the language of our
spirit ancestors."

"If I may, Professor." Hasan cut in, "I believe that the title of the Boy-Who-Lived is a misnomer. It was Harry Potter who
lived, but it will be Neville who will live after the final confrontation with the Dark Lord."

The class seemed appeased by this, even the part where Hasan said that the final confrontation had yet to happen. The
present mentality of the general public was that Voldemort was most prob ab ly on the loose, but as long as he didn't start
attacking in the flesh there was nothing to worry about. In the case of Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody, most people
were of the opinion that it was the Death Eaters' fault, but that Voldemort wasn't exactly back. It was odd, Hasan thought,
but at least Neville's story fit right in, and that was all that mattered.

"Er, thank you, Mr. Castell for your very enlightening feedback. Now are there any other questions-Yes, Miss Lovegood?"

The young second year shot her a bright smile. "How many prophecies have you made?"

"Two, my dear. And for those who still doubt the Inner Eye's possession of me, let it be known that my prophecy of the
Dark Lord's demise was corroborated by none other than Dumbledore himself!"

"Wow!" Lavender breathed. "That is so amazing! Can we hear the other one?"

The professor shook her head with the most exaggerated look of disappointment. "Alas, Miss Brown. It has been seized
by the Ministry some twenty years ago and is currently locked away in the Department of Mysteries. I don't often tell
people this but I do suffer in the brain." Several people snickered at that. "You see, I was in a portkey accident and was
hospitalized for several months. So I cannot even use a pensieve unless I want to suffer permanent brain damage."

"That won't make a difference." Ron snickered.

"Ronald!" Lavender shrieked.

"No, no! Miss Brown, let us be patient for those who do not understand the Inner Eye, much less possess it." Trelawney
said scathingly.

While the three bantered, Hasan turned his attention back to Luna. "It's in the Department of Mysteries?" he whispered.
"Isn't that where Moody got attacked?"

Luna only smiled. "That's a good observation, I think."

.oOo.

:What are you doing?:

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Hasan and Melusine were crouched (Melusine was more of lying) on the floor in his dorm, peering at the map in the light
cast by his wand. His invisibility cloak was slung over his shoulders for good measure.

:I need to make sure the coast is clear.: Hasan explained to the small green snake. :I'm not supposed to know how to
open the Chamber let alone where it is. Sure I was found with Neville and all but no one has ever asked me about it." He
tried not to pout like a petulant child. He knew it wasn't really Neville's fault that everyone was giving him special
treatment, but honestly, he would have thought the great Dumbledore would have interrogated Hasan and Draco both
once it was ascertained that Neville had absolutely no recollection of anything.

:I sssee.: Melusine hissed. :Then by all meansss check away.:

Hasan ignored her and continued in his search. There was Draco in his private dorm, pacing it seemed, Hermione in
the library, Severus in the headmaster's office- that was interesting, Lupin with Sirius in their joint chambers. Fortunately,
it seemed that there wasn't much of anyone in the corridors: there was just this guy named Barty Crouch, the care-taker
Filch, Mrs. Norris, Flitwick, and McGonagall. None of them seemed likely to run into him, so he wiped the map clean and
stood up.

:Wrap around my arm: he told her, :It'll be easier to carry you.:

After everything was away, the map in his pocket, his wand in hand, Melusine around his arm, and the invisibility cloak
over his body, Hasan set off for the girls' bathroom. Even if he didn't know his way (which he did) Myrtle's dolorous wails
would have led the way. The two were almost upon the bathroom entrance when unexpectedly Moody whipped around
the corner with Flitwick right behind him. Funny how he couldn't remember Moody being in the corridors...

"Next week we'll discuss environmental strategies." Moody was saying gruffly. "Too many kids today are distracted by
what is going on around them and not on the battle."

"But that's just as well," Flitwick squeaked, keeping up with the more experienced wizard, "Surroundings can save or
condemn you. We can focus on how best to use it to their advantage."

Hasan assumed the two were discussing the up and coming Dueling Club meeting set to take place in a week. He
pressed himself against the wall and held his breath, but despite his efforts, Moody's magical eye suddenly swung
around to land on him.

"Alastor?" Flitwick asked with concern.

Moody didn't move, instead his eye flickered down to where Hasan was sure he saw Melusine. Oh shit. This wasn't good
at all. He should have known that Moody could see through invisibility cloaks! But then...he never did recall seeing Moody
on the map!

"Nothing." Moody said finally, "Come, there's much more to discuss."

After they passed, Hasan was left taking deep calming breathes. That was close, way too close. And he never wanted it
to happen again. Hasan stumbled into the loo, not exactly in the mood to see the bathroom's namesake. As luck would
have it, Myrtle was there waiting for him, wailing from the top of the window sill.

"Oh! Oh! It's you! That boy who never came back to v-visit me!"

:Why doess she wail ssso?: Melusine asked.

:She got murdered here. That's enough to moan about.: Hasan replied dryly as he walked around the sinks.

"Myrtle, I'm really sorry about that. But I've been busy."

"Busy with what?" the ghost asked languidly.

"Well I just found this snake..." Hasan told her kindly, "And I was hoping you would help me guard her?"

"A-a snake?" Myrtle wondered, eyes going round behind her glasses. "But you're not like that other boy, right?"

The other boy...Hasan knew she was talking of Tom Riddle and an involuntary shiver went down his spine. To think that
Voldemort was once a student here and killed her...

"Myrtle, the basilisk is dead. This is another snake that was going to die. You'll let me keep her in here, won't you?"

Myrtle relented. If his snake was here, then Hasan would have to visit her!

"And you won't tell this to anybody?" Hasan asked as he located the sink.

"No, I swear on my grave." Myrtle said. "Ooh, this is so exciting!"

Hasan offered her a charming smile and leaned over the faucet. :Open: he hissed and was rewarded with a low moan
from the center of the room. Within seconds, the entrance was by his feet once more.

:You'll like it here. I promise.: Hasan said, and jumped.

.oOo.

"...Sirius?" Remus asked. "You wouldn't happen to know where those mirrors are that James and you used to use?"

Sirius' head shot up from his Daily Prophet. "The mirrors?" he asked dubiously. Yes, he knew exactly what his soulmate
was talking about. "What brought this up?"

Remus smiled nervously. "Well, I've got into a sort of scrape."

"Remus..." Sirius whined. Merlin help him!

"I need the mirrors for a short time and was wondering if you could fix them up a bit?" Remus asked in a rush.

Sirius sighed, "I don't suppose you can tell me what for?"

"I can't, Sirius, I can't." At Sirius' look, Remus elaborated, "I trust you, Sirius, I do-"

"Just not enough apparently," Sirius huffed, crossing his arms.

"That's not it," Remus sighed. "This is beyond either of us. It's for the war efforts and this is ab solutely necessary. I'm
sorry if you don't believe me but you know I love you. I wouldn't ask this of you if there was another way, but we both know
you are the only one who knows the spells."

"Fine!" Sirius groaned. "I'll help you. I just wish I knew why."

Remus stared into the fire. "Thank you."

Sirius still wasn't sure what was happening, why he was doing this, or what part he was playing in doing this. All he
knew was that he trusted his mate. He knew exactly where the mirrors were because he did harbor some hopes of
finding Harry and giving some of his family heirlooms to him. But obviously James' son was lost to them forever.

There was no need to wait any longer.

Sirius retrieved the mirrors from his room and handed them to Remus.

"What do you need done?"

"I need to break one."

"WHAT?"

"I mean," Remus tried again, "That we need to make three mirrors and have one of them going one way so that you can
view the others but not be seen."

Sirius gave him an odd look. Remus wanted to create a spy mirror? Clearly somebody had thought this out very
thoroughly. Who exactly was threatening his man? Or working with him? Was it Dumbledore? Surely he would have
talked to Sirius himself?

"Of course." Sirius said tonelessly, and set to work.

.oOo.

As much as he distasted it, Severus supposed that he would have to inform Dumbledore of the complications regarding
Barty Crouch Jr. It wouldn't do to for Barty to attack students and for Dumbledore to be indecisive from the predictable
confusion. While Severus was a secretive man, there were some things which he knew that Dumbledore should know.
He ladled the memory potion he had been working on into a glass vial before going up to see Dumbledore.

"Licorice wands," Severus bit out as he began the ascent. He swore that Albus purposely chose passwords to humble
his guests. Even Voldemort couldn't feel high and mighty while saying "Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans" to a stone
gargoyle.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's voice from inside.

Severus pushed the door open and held up the vial in explanation. "Albus, I passed along your message to the Malfoys."

The bearded man seemed to take a minute to process this. "Ah, yes. The letter, and oh good! You brought the potion!"

Severus nodded. In an odd sort of way, Severus felt bad for the wizard who was suffering under Altair's spell work.

"How are you faring?" Severus enquired.

"Oh, I'm alright." Albus said wearily. "I just realized I forgot to send out Hogsmeade permission slips and I'm presently
organizing Susan Bone's papers. She's going to be homeschooled, I'm afraid."

Severus could understand that. The school was, as the muggles would say, a ticking time bomb. One year Voldemort as
a teacher, the next a werewolf and a Basilisk to top it off! If he had kids, he wouldn't want them attending either.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Severus? You seem troubled."

Damn the man! Snape thought. He was too perceptive for his own good.

"Nothing personally, although I did wish to tell you that the Dark Lord has placed a spy in our midst."

Dumbledore eyed him shrewdly without his normal twinkle.

"Not ME!" Severus cried, "Merlin, Albus! I am talking of Moody, Alastor Moody."

"What about Moody?" Albus asked sharply, defensively.

"That is the problem, Albus. The Dark Lord has captured him the night of the attack and has planted Barty Crouch Jr. in
his place."

Dumbledore swallowed. He remembered reading that Barty Crouch's son was among those who had escaped from
Azkaban the year previous. This was a very bad thing indeed.

"Does he have orders from his master?" Albus asked casually.

"He is to stay and wait for orders." Severus informed him, "Although I have no doubt he will be called back once the
resurrection begins."

"And how is that coming along?" Albus asked conversationally.

"Well. Far too well. I expect we'll have a fully corporal enemy within the school year." Severus scowled.

The headmaster nodded slowly. "So we will...But you know what I think, Severus? I think we'll all be ready for him. Boy-
Who-Lived or not, I think we might be able to kill him."

Severus was impassive. "Boy-Who-Lived or not."

.oOo.

The Dueling Club had finally arrived with much excitement and anticipation from all those involved. Dumbledore, though
informed of Moody's er, personal problems, was confident that he wouldn't try anything too dangerous the first time. Even
so, he set Sirius to watch the processions as a dog, as if the mutt could save them Severus had scoffed.

Hasan in particular was excited for the club to begin. After the events of last year he felt, more than ever, that education in
self-defense should be on the top of all their lists. He found Luna in the crowd, standing beside Hermione, Theo, and
Draco. The rest of their usual party was near but busy talking with their own friends.

"Oh, Hasan!" Hermione exclaimed as the jade-eyed boy came to join them. "I looked up Melusine just like you asked, but
couldn't find anything on it! It's absolutely terrible! You would have thought that Hogwarts' library had everything!"

"What's this about Melusine?" Luna questioned innocently.

"It's the name he's giving that snake." Hermione supplied, then remembering that Luna was a grade below them
proceed to explain that Hasan rescued a snake from Professor Moody's infernal demonstrations.

"So you're naming it already?" Theodore asked.

"Yes." Hasan said, "What would you have me do? Refer to it as Snake?"

Theodore shrugged, "I didn't think you'd actually keep it. It's a nice gesture and all, but we don't know the first thing about
it. Aren't you worried that it'll kill you in your sleep?"

Hasan flicked his eyes up to meet Theo's. "There is a thing called magic, Theo. Besides a stunning spell, a shielding
spell, a binding spell, or accioing all its teeth out, one could buy a cage."

Theo was about to say something biting back, but Hermione quickly jumped in with a comment about muggle
technologies being utilized by wizards. Hasan shrugged it off. He didn't mean to sound cruel, but he really didn't
appreciate all these questions. He was paranoid as hell that Myrtle would tell someone about his little escapade last
week, or that someone else would spill the beans about his pet snake.

"You can relax here, Hasan." Luna offered sweetly. "I won't tell about your pet snake. I also think Melusine is a great
name. Starbucks, you know?"

And before Hasan could possibly wonder what Luna was babbling about now, the Club began.

.oOo.

Filius Flitwick was admittedly a Dueling Champion. In his youth he participated in such clubs that earned him respect
among several wealthy families despite his goblin inheritance. As an adult and adept professor of charms, one could
only guess that the youth had improved with time. But as it was, he looked pitifully frail and ancient next to war worn
Alastor Moody. But at second glance, both looked incredibly old and surprisingly dangerous in that they both looked like
formidable opponents.

"Welcome!" Flitwick squeaked, "To the first Dueling Club meeting of the year! Today we will be learning how
environmental factors can help or hinder you. However, we would like to demonstrate what a real wizards' duel looks like
so that you have something to look forward to the in the future.."

"Yes," Moody agreed gruffly, very excited to try his stuff on the world renowned dueling champion. "And to make it fair, we
will only be using the stunning, disarming, and shielding spells."
The crowd watched closely as the two wizards arrange themselves on stage. Flitwick erected an orb-like shield to cover
the expanse of their dueling platform, while Moody took the time to stare at the kids with his magical eye. Hasan felt it
glance over him and automatically looked away. Luna gave him a concerned smile and gave his hand a squeeze.

"As some of you may remember from last year, the two participating wizards will bow to each other before the actual duel.
It is for tradition's sake as well as courtesy." Flitwick said.

"And respect," Moody added, "Never underestimate your opponent."

The two wizards then met at the center, bowed, and returned to their respective locations. Hasan, who had never seen
Flitwick in this setting, was rather startled to see the determination shining in his eyes.

"Stupefy!" Moody shouted, making the first strike.

Flitwick tumbled to the side (with a youthfulness no one had ever expected from him) and shot his own stunning spell
back at him. "Stupefy!"

"Protego!" Moody said as he ducked from the spell. "Expelliarmus!"

Flitwick created his own shield and sent a stunner from the side. Moody grit his teeth. He was not to be outdone by the
likes of him! Such a filthy half-creature! How he wished to send him sprawling across the floor under the cruciatus or
other questionably illegal curses!

"Stupefy! Stupefy!" Moody yelled, shooting one after another in an attempt to break the shield. Flitwick almost smirked,
with a quick jerking motion, a disarming spell flew from under his shield and straight towards its target! Lacking his host
body's actual skill, Barty Crouch Jr. was left wandless and sent flying into the wards from the power behind the spell.

Hasan watched in fascination. He had done something similar in class last week, but to see it from this viewpoint was
simply spectacular. Moody's face as he was suddenly struck by the spell was one of pure shock- a highly unusual
emotion to express given the auror's line of work and normally blank demeanor. If Hasan hadn't known better, he would
have said that Moody was no better than a fourth year student at Hogwarts- and that was being generous. However, he
remembered vividly the cruelty which this man was capable of and second guessed his gut reaction. Maybe he just
wasn't used to the constraints of using three mild but useful spells. Surely an auror was more adroit at wielding other
more potent spells? Hasan shrugged, it wasn't like he knew a lot about Magical Law Enforcement. In fact, Altair had
made sure they kept away from it as much as possible, his weapon being horrible disguises than actual research and
evasion.

"Well done, Filius." Moody all but growled. "But let us keep in mind that in the battle field all spells that you are even the
least bit familiar with are available to you. There will be no limits in the real world."

"Which is why," Flitwick segued smoothly, "Our next meeting will be outside so that you can experience a more realistic
battle setting. Not all fights are conducted on Ministry approved measurements and encased in protective wards."

There was a murmur of excitement throughout the crowd at this new bit of news. Go outside? Learn to use your
surroundings? This was a new type of learning which excited even the dimmest of students.

"Alright then!" Flitwick said, "For the rest of the remaining time we will try a little experiment. There will be no teams,
although you are welcome to make your own during the course of the game. The three spells we have used will be the
only spells in your arsenal: Stupefy, Protego, and Expelliarmus. The object of the game is to be the last one who is not
stunned. All wands which have been taken from the original owner will be charmed to fly to us instead of the castor only
for organization's sake. Don't worry, the wand knows its owner and will fly back to you at the end of the game. If you are
disarmed, but not yet stunned, feel free to continue playing. I will give everyone ten seconds to line up against any wall in
the room. Any questions? Excellent! One...Two...Three...Four..."

Hasan and Luna hurried to the far wall, while Hermione, Theo and the rest of the Slytherins lined up on the adjacent wall.

"Five...Six...Seven...Eight..."

"This is kind of like muggle dodge ball!" Luna was saying excitedly.

"Nine...Ten! You may begin!"

All at once, everyone tore from their original walls and started shouted spells at the top of their lungs. The teachers, one
should note, were happily sitting on chairs under heavy protective wards.
"STUPEFY!"

"Come at me you bastard!"

"STUPEFY!"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

"COWARD!"

"STUPEFY!"

Hasan, to his credit, had formed an alliance with Luna and were rotating back to back, erecting shield after shield.

"Expelliarmus!" Theodore shouted at Luna.

"Stupefy!" she yelled. Theodore dodged out of the way before he was hit, but Luna's wand went soaring over to the
professors.

"Oh no!" Luna sighed, not at all sad. To her surprise, her stunning spell had hit Hermione (who was tailing Theo)
causing Theo to knock into her in his haste to get away. Not having any of it, Hasan sent him a stunner, which of course
hit its mark as Theo was suffering from a head injury.

"Come on, let's get some shelter." Hasan said, indicating where several Hufflepuffs were frozen in one corner. Luna
nodded her approval.

Meanwhile, Tracey was fighting off Pansy Parkinson who was also fighting off Millicent Bulstrode.

"Here's for that time you called me ugly!" Millie cried, slashing her wand at the pug-faced girl.

Pansy gnashed her teeth together and she threw up a shield. "It's not my fault you take everything to heart! Stupefy!"

Tracey wary of Millicent, but terrified of Pansy, shot a disarming charm at Millie. Her wand out of reach, Pansy seized the
chance to stun her, but this proved to be her downfall as Tracey stunned her in turn.

"Nice work," Daphne grinned, nodding at the statues. "Hey, they should call this game Medusa. Fighting, isn't it?"

Tracey gave her a tight nod before she had to leap out of the way from Lavender barreling through. Right behind her was
Ronald Weasley and tagging beside him was the Golden Boy, Neville Longbottom.

"Truce?" Neville offered sneeringly.

"Not a chance!" Daphne smirked, and sent him a stunner. Ron, his temper always on edge, decided it was time to
unleash his magical disarming powers. Anticipating his spell by his wand movement, Tracey threw up a shield, which
was quickly banished by Lavender shooting a particularly nasty Stupefy. As Tracey's meagre shield collapsed, Daphne
made her own, whispering for Tracey to try and disarm Lavender as she was a loose cannon. Fortunately it wasn't long
until Lavender's wand joined the pile. Unfortunately, she was still a menace disarmed.

Animalistic-ly, she tackled Tracey to the ground. Too shocked to do much else, Ron was swiftly hit by a stunner, the same
stupid expression locked on his face.

"AHHHHH! You hit my WON WON!" Lavender shrieked.

Daphne did everyone a service by stunning the banshee of a woman, but Neville had already stunned Tracey who was
trapped beneath the other. Now it was only Neville and Daphne.

"Truce?" Neville offered again, though weakly.

Daphne smiled. "Truce."

It was but ten minutes into the game and already most of the room was frozen in place. While Flitwick contemplated the
possibilities of adding another element, such as the ability to revive a 'statue' as analogous to potions or healing spells,
Moody's mind was somewhere else entirely. He was sent by the Dark Lord to guide young Mr. Malfoy, but he had another
task here as well: to identify those the Dark Lord would find worthy as his future followers. It was no secret that the Dark
Lord desired fresh blood so to speak. Many of his original followers, not able to benefit from his deranged idea of
immortality, were growing rather old and some deceased. As Moody watched the students form little ragtag bands, he
contemplated the use the Dark Lord would have of them.

Mr. Longbottom, he noted, was quick to gain allies. After his first team had been taken down, he quickly aligned himself
with the enemy- a very interesting response for one so young. If not for the fact he flaunted his Gryffindor-like stupidity
around, Moody would have judged him a Slytherin based on that one move.

He kept a close eye on Hasan, of course, simply because he had caught his attention the first day of class, but when it
became apparent that all he did was throw up shields and occasionally sent out stunners, Moody quickly became bored.
He sent a quick glance at Flitwick out of sheer paranoid- as if the man could possibly detect his thoughts, and relaxed
back into his chair to enjoy the show.

Within twenty minutes of the game, the only survivors were Hasan, Luna, Neville, Daphne, Cedric Diggory, a small
Ravenclaw, Terry Boot, and Padma Patil. Luna was the last one without a wand but she was quick and slender and so
was able to hide behind the millions of frozen people at her disposal.

"Stupefy!" a man yelled, causing someone to run for cover.

"Stupefy!"

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Stupefy!"

Cedric-down.

Terry Boot- down.

Unknown ravenclaw- down.

Padma Patil- disarmed.

Daphne- down.

Now there was only Hasan, Luna, Padma, and Neville left...Moody inched forward in his seat- so did Flitwick. The tension
in the room was startling. Two without a wand two with a wand.

Hasan lazily flicked his wand at Padma and stunned her on the spot. Now the real fight would begin.

A/N- So a bit different, but hopefully entertaining at the end! Should I have Hasan win or should we change it up a bit?
Did you like the explanation for Neville and Hasan during Divination?

Please REVIEW! I'm going to be updating every two weeks this summer because I really want to finish this! I have so
many chapters to post, but I haven't written in a few months and am just rereading things to figure out how to
continue.

Thanks you to everyone who has reviewed last chapter:

medward, Nagilover4ever, EndlessChains, Dixie.f.9, anon, pinks99, V1ol3tC4teye5, SlytherinBtch, Wishfull-star,

BurningSaiyan, history, Remvis, tess4aria, mrpietan, JPElles, moonlight10060, jgood27, and Jaylily (anon).

THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH! I will not disappoint!

*Chapter 30*: Who Made You King?
A/N: Alright! Let's just hop in shall we? By the way, on VACATION finally and I will have nothing better to do than write
fanfiction and sit around waiting for REVIEWS! So please please! I am strongly encouraging you all to leave me a love
note and make this worth my while! THANKS IN ADVANCE! (Also, not going to lie, I am completely eyeing up the 700th
review...sexy.)

Also, just a general vote on the end to get you guys thinking!

Return of Emerald

Chapter 30: Who Made You King?

Neville and Hasan looked at each other in the eye. Really looked. Neville's dark eyes were full of misplaced pride and a
bit of anger. Hasan's were always dull, always eerily empty. Hasan dared him to strike. The Boy-Who-Lived indeed, too
scared to make the first move on the Slytherin scum he just started to dislike due to Ron's constant urging. Hasan's lips
quirked up. He remembered with a twisted sense of satisfaction the first time he had really confronted Voldemort. How
he had told the Darkest Wizard of the time that he could go ahead and kill his friend, Neville Longbottom. If only Neville
knew how very unfair the playing fields were. Hasan wasn't in Neville's league. He was far above it- and the little prat
knew nothing. Nothing at all.

Neville drew his lip up in a snarl.

"Expelliarmus! Stupefy!" he growled.

Hasan was quick to act and dodged behind a frozen Cho Chang.

"Stupefy! Stupefy!" His spell choice was so limited it was starting to give him a headache. All throughout the game he
was playing defense, but now? Now it was no holds bar. "Stupefy! Stupefy!" Hasan hissed, tearing his wand through the
air.

Neville was wide eyed with fear for a split second as he dived on the floor. Head popping up for a second, Hasan
continued his barrage of stunners. It was exhilarating. He felt powerful! The Golden Boy. The Boy-Who-Lived. All
idealizations created by a mentally deteriorating man and a population of a few thousand British witches and wizards. He
didn't have the strength to face his imperfections alone, internally, but seeing the incarnation of all he hated smirking
challengingly back at him really brought out the fighter in Hasan. After a while he stopped hearing...

Stunner after stunner was shot at Neville Longbottom. Sure, he was supposed to be the world's savior, but he wasn't
prepared for this! Was there no break? If he moved too fast, he ran into someone and risked getting hit while he was
recovering. If he moved to slow, the stunner would hit him anyway. If he simply sat on the ground, Hasan would no doubt
advance like a predator would in the wild. Because right now, Hasan looked like he was the predator and Longbottom
his prey. It was actually starting to freak him out.

But he was a Longbottom! He was of a brave stock and his Gran particularly loved to remind him of his duty to uphold the
family honor. He could not shy away from this boy no matter how freakish his eyes seemed to be, boring into him as if
they could see the poor confused boy beneath. Acutely aware of his position, he lifted his wand-

"Stupefy!"

.oOo.

Hasan was getting tired, his eyes began to water, his heart was beating faster and faster. He knew that rationally he
could not blame Neville for anything: not his parents' fate, nor his present dilemma, nor his messed up mind, nor
Neville's own Boy-Who-Lived persona. Everything was just too complicated to simply point a finger and cry. Hasan
stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He hadn't realized how hard he was breathing or the sweat that was pouring
down his face. He also didn't realize how dehydrated he must have been because suddenly there were stars in his line
of vision.

Fuck it all- if Neville really wanted to hit him. Then let him have a go. He was just tired. Of everything. But as Neville lifted
his wand and aimed, Hasan realized something was drastically wrong. It wasn't for him- no, it was pointed at Luna. And
Hasan did the only thing he could do- he lunged.
.oOo.

Barty Crouch Jr. was expecting several things. He expected Lucius' spawn to be in the top ten (figures he wouldn't even
show up). He expected the Boy-Who-Lived to win. And he expected that brat, Hasan Castell, to put up a good fight. What
he was not expecting was a glorious show of Gryffindor sacrifice from a Slytherin no less.

He watched as Neville shrewdly shot a stunner at the wandless second year (how had she lasted that long anyway?), an
underhanded move he hadn't thought Dumbledore's Golden Boy capable of. He watched as Hasan threw himself in front
of it, while simultaneously sending his own stunner. The two spells had collided and- Suddenly that wandless second
year was the victor.

The Victor.

Barty was a little more than disappointed. Remus Lupin on the other hand was overjoyed.

"Excellent game!" Remus Lupin applauded the room now full of statues. "Congratulations to our winner, Luna
Lovegood!"

"Really?" Luna wondered sweetly.

Barty rolled his eye. "Finite Incantatem." he cast, effectively unfreezing the room. He was so done with tonight. He hastily
sent the wands flying back to their original owners in a less than sour mood.

"That was some game!" Theo said as he unfroze.

"Tell me about it." Hermione grumbled, "My back hurts."

All across the room people were muttering their various arches and complaints, causing Remus to frown. Maybe that
wasn't the most well thought out game in the world, but at least it got the point through!

As Hasan unfroze, he shot a death glare at Longbottom who was being fawned on by Ginny immediately. How dare that
little Gryffindor snot prey on those weaker than himself! And why had Hasan reacted like that anyway? He knew the time it
would take for the stunner to hit. He knew the time it took for his shields to be erected. Surely he knew that magic
travelled faster than he could dive? Idiot, he berated himself.

"That was a nice thing to do, Hasan." Luna said, coming up to him. " I didn't think you had it in you."

"Neither did I." Hasan said tightly. If that were a real battle, he would have died. Died. For something as simple as
deciding to play hero instead of throwing up a shield. What was wrong with him?

"You know, it's not wrong to feel strongly for someone, right?" Luna asked.

Hasan nodded minutely.

"Then I hope you know that people in love often do things without thinking."

Hasan looked at her, "But if that had been real-"

"Then you would have been stunned." Luna finished.

"I meant dead." Hasan said bitterly.

"Well yes, but isn't it much better to die for something you love than to die from something as mundane as cutting hair?"
Luna remarked quietly.

That was the signal for Hasan to shut his trap. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to say I don't feel strongly for you. I just
meant that-"

"Your life is worth so much more?" Luna questioned. "Don't bother lying, I can see it in your eyes. You're disappointed in
yourself because you acted on emotions and instinct rather than on logic."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Hasan murmured.

"Wrong is a relative term," Luna said, "but if you continue to suppress parts of you which you deem as senseless, then
where will you be?"
Alive, Hasan answered inwardly.

Luna glanced at him and sighed. "Sometimes I believe I can see affection, but then I think it must be the trick of the light.
Good bye, Hasan. I'll be waiting for you."

Luna disappeared into the crowd, though Hasan fancied he heard the doors to the Great Hall open and close. Salazar,
how could he be so stupid? He understood what Luna meant, but he wasn't nearly ready to accept it. Feelings? As if his
little heroic stunt wasn't the epitome of idiotic. Luna just didn't understand: He was the savior of the Light. If he died, they
were all doomed. How could he be so selfish as to keep who he loved alive while letting the rest of the world crash and
burn around him? He knew that Luna knew the truth, but it didn't seem to affect her. It was both a blessing and a curse
and he couldn't understand why it bothered him so much.

It was like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and no one could see. Couldn't she understand that?
Couldn't she understand that Harry Potter was weak because he desired recognition and respect for saving all their
arses? That Hasan was much better for not letting his feelings get to him, because he couldn't afford to have something
as petty as desire rule him.

And yet, it just did. His walls were crumbling and he didn't know what to do.

.oOo.

...He is looking for two ob jects b elonging to Hogwarts' Founders: Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket...

"Lucius, dear?" Narcissa asked softly, suddenly appearing over his right shoulder. "What's wrong? You've been staring at
that letter for the past ten minutes. Your dinner is getting cold."

Lucius stiffened slightly. Had it really been ten minutes? He hadn't even heard her get up! Carefully, as not to arouse any
suspicion, Lucius tried to fold the letter out of her sight but her cold hands stopped him.

"It's from Severus," she remarked seemingly surprised. She turned to him. "What's wrong? Is it about Draco?"

Lucius swallowed uncomfortably. What could he tell her?

"Dumbledore has...requested that we grant him entry into our family vaults," he finally confessed.

Narcissa paled as she took a step back. "Did he say why?" she asked demurely.

"Dumbledore seems to be under the impression that the Blacks hold all of the Founders' lost treasures. Namely, he
wishes to find Hufflepuff's Cup and...Slytherin's Locket."

"He does?" Narcissa wondered innocently, scared that Lucius could hear the faint racing of her heart.

"Well, we both know that Hufflepuff's Cup is no longer in our possession." Lucius said aloud, suppressing a shudder.

Yes, they both knew, Narcissa thought. How could they not when the Dark Lord had tortured them senseless over that
little mishap?

"And he wants Slytherin's Locket as well?" Narcissa queried.

"Yes." Lucius said as evenly as he could. "It seems that Albus Dumbledore has picked up treasure hunting as his new
hobby."

The room was uncomfortably silent. Awkwardly silent. Narcissa glanced at her husband carefully. They both knew that
Narcissa was involved with the disappearance of the Cup, though they had never spoken of that aloud. But the reason for
her involvement was that a man named Altair wanted it...and now Dumbledore was after it too?

This was no great coincidence! What was it about the Founders which drew both of their attentions? Was it because the
Founders were powerful or historically relevant? Or perhaps there was a deeper motivation which wasn't to be shared
with simple pawns such as the Malfoys...the very thought of which made bile crawl up her throat. No, there was clearly
something bigger at stake and she needed to make sure that her family was going to survive it. Inevitably, this meant
making sure they were on the same page because Malfoys stayed together!

"Darling," Narcissa began pointedly, "you wouldn't happen to know what became of the Locket, would you?"

Lucius' eyes snapped to hers. "When did you visit Gringott's?"

Narcissa gaped, taken aback. She had expected him to say he had no idea, or maybe to say that he had not seen it in a
while. His defensive tone left no doubt in her mind that Altair had asked for this item too.

"When did you?" she countered, though she had not been to Gringott's in a while.

Lucius regarded her coolly for a moment before coughing. "I have...invested it." he said, avoiding her question.

"In whom?" she asked darkly.

He glared at her.

"And is he planning on returning it?" Narcissa continued relentlessly.

Lucius crumbled the letter in his hand. This was so damn frustrating. He wanted things between Altair and himself to
stay between Altair and himself! Now he was involving his wife! His whole family! "How do you know my investor is a
he?" he asked, trying to expose her.

Her eyes flashed. "Oh, I think you know."

The Malfoy Lord sighed angrily. "So he has contacted you as well?"

"Altair? Yes. And he has asked me not to tell you." Narcissa said heatedly.

"Then why are you?" Lucius growled.

"What? Is he your lord and master?" Narcissa hissed. "Lucius, open your eyes! Can't you see that this is more important
than either of us? Alb us Dumb ledore is after these trophies, so to speak. Don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

"Of course I do." Lucius ground out, "Which is why I'm staying out of it. He seems to want this war over as much as we
do."

Narcissa calmed herself with a steadying breath. "How do you know this?"

"Because every object I've collected for him is tainted with the Dark Lord's magic!"

"How do you know he's not just going to perform some ritual and absorb everything-"

"I just know, alright? Narcissa, trust me on this! I JUST KNOW."

Narcissa restrained the biting remark on the tip of her tongue. "He sent me a letter as well. You probably have deduced
this by now, but he asked me to get the Cup for him. I do believe his intentions are better for us than the Dark Lord's...I
just wanted to hear you say it. I want to know that you trust me. That we're on the same page about this."

Lucius looked up at her warily, "I don't know everything about this Altair Castell, but I feel like I can trust him."

"So what are we going to do about this?" Narcissa asked, gesturing to the letter.

"Well, we can't very well refuse the Headmaster, can we?" Lucius muttered irritably. "I wouldn't suggest we tell him that
we took out these...trophies on someone's orders, but I don't see how giving him access to our vaults will hurt us.
Besides, it seems to me like he's just testing our loyalties. He could just as easily have asked Sirius Black to open up
the ancestral vaults."

Narcissa smirked. This was the husband she knew: cool, calm, collected.

"I agree." Narcissa murmured. "Let's send him an invitation right now."

But before she could do much else but turn around, a little black owl had swooped through their window.

.oOo.

Altair Castell was a man of many talents. He could manipulate. He could steal. He could see magic with his eyes! What
he could not do was stroll around town and buy an ice cream. Why? Because he was legally dead and technically a
criminal. And this brought about some little inconveniences such as having a middle man. Not that there was anything
wrong with Lucius and Narcissa, or even Snape for that matter. No, they were all well and good and surprisingly adept at
following orders. The problem was the information.
Now, the best possible scenario would be to have several minions each doing a puzzle piece of work, but unfortunately,
he had only a handful to speak of and those he had liked to talk. A lot. There was no doubt in his mind that Severus had
already consulted Lucius about him or that Lucius and Narcissa had blabbed to themselves or that Dumbledore had
started to confide a lot in his pet Death Eater. Whether or not this had even an ounce of truth to it was in itself all
speculation. The bottom line was Altair was handing out the Dark Lord's secrets to a select few of people well
acquainted with each other and he was a fool to think they wouldn't piece together everything eventually.

So what could he do? Hope to accomplish as much as possible before some hotshot decided that they had made up a
much better plan and ruined everything. As it was, Altair was busily contemplating the snake Nagini. It was plain as day
that the snake was a horcrux. The damn serpent went with him everywhere. He had heard rumors that the Dark Lord
stopped taking prisoners shortly after acquiring her...Altair grimaced. And herein lay the problem, if Nagini was indeed a
horcrux, how could he hope to slay her without giving more information to his contacts? Could he possibly consult
Hasan for he was the Boy-Who-Lived and a parselmouth? Or was that too much of a burden to bear for any child?

Altair sighed. There really was no choice.

"Dear Lucius,

There are b ut a few tasks left, b ut I prefer to refer to them as favors. I am asking that you do them b ecause they are the
right thing to do. No doub t you have conversed with Narcissa ab out me so I have no qualms ab out you doing so now.
There is a snake. A magical snake named Nagini. The Dark Lord keeps her close, b ut if you ever get a chance, slay the
snake. And if the Dark Lord keeps her closer in a magical cage, let's just say, or perhaps in a protective b ub b le, then slay
her at any cost.

I must leave soon. I regret it, b ut I must.

Good Luck,

Altair Castell"

.oOo.

Draco Malfoy was nothing if not resourceful (and perhaps a little haughty). He knew that the entire school would be away
at the Dueling Club if only for a chance to be taught by the illustrious Mad-Eye Moody.

Oh, if only they knew, Draco scoffed bitterly. That they were all b eing taught b y a psychotic maniac. Fortunately for him
they did not, and so while the dungeons were empty, Draco seized the opportunity to do some...exploring.

You see, Draco Malfoy didn't buy the whole: "Moody's snake just poofed away. So the snake that magically appeared in
the common room must NOT b e the same snake. Ob viously" idea. No, Draco Malfoy was much more intelligent than
that. Ever since Hasan volunteered to keep the serpent as a pet like some stray puppy, Draco had a niggling suspicion
that Hasan was plotting something. The question now was: "What on earth would Hasan do with a snake?" And so,
Saturday night found Draco Malfoy sneaking around the Slytherin dorms like a common muggle thief.

"Salazar, he doesn't even lock his door," Draco muttered to himself with a roll of his grey eyes. It was the same as last
year when Draco had snatched all his books. For someone who inspired so much mystery Draco would have expected
fifty wards at least. As it was, Draco Malfoy strolled leisurely in to the boy's personal dorm.

It was clean, Draco would give him that. His books were neatly stacked, his bed made, his trunk shut with nothing
spilling out the sides. He rummaged through Hasan's trunk, checked under his bed, in his desk, through his books.
Surely there was something Hasan was up to, but all he found was ordinary things. Draco nearly growled in frustration.
He could imagine it now, the Dark Lord asking for information about Hasan Castell.

"So he's, um, a Slytherin. Oh! And one day a snake disappeared, I mean, I think I saw that Hasan made the snake
disappear, although I'm not sure. But then the snake reappeared- at least, I was the only one who thought it was the same
snake. And then when I checked his rooms there was ab solutely nothing suspicious."

"So what you mean to tell me is that you're completely useless? Avada-"

Draco cringed. This was definitely not good. He had to find something or die trying. His parents were counting on him to
live past his first task. His family name and honor was on the line! Never mind that, his bloody life was on the line!

Draco was pitifully confused and stressed and desperate. Was he jumping at every little possibility without giving it much
thought as to whether it was worthwhile to pursue? Was he ruining his friendship just to be murdered by the Dark Lord?
Was Hasan actually up to something, or did he really just want a pet snake?
Because right now, Draco literally couldn't find anything to indict him. There was no evidence whatsoever. Nothing!

And, wait a minute: "Where on earth was that b loody snake?"

.oOo.

Melusine was busy exploring more of her new home when she heard the entrance of the chamber creak open. She lifted
her head up in surprise before settling back down. It was only Hasan- she could smell him.

:Melusine?: Hasan called out as if she were some common dog, :Melusine?:

The snake regarded him carefully, :Hassssan, I am right here.:

:Where?:

Melusine rolled her eyes, honestly! She slithered out from her hiding place to meet him in the main chamber. Hasan
looked visibly relieved to see her. With a sigh, he approached.

:Where were you just now?: he asked.

:Exploring,: she answered coyly, rearing up. Melusine examined his face for a second before hissing, :What'sss wrong?:

Hasan stiffened, :Nothing is wrong.:

:Yesss, and I'm a hippogriff. Hassssan, I can sssssee that you're upssset.:

:So what? It's nothing I can't deal with.:

:Then why come down to the chamber? It'sss clear that no one hasss been down here in yearsss. It ssssmellsss of
sstale air and decay. I think you forgot to mention the previous occupant.:

Hasan shrugged, :I came down here to check on you.:

:Yesss, I'm sure.: Melusine said gently, :But while you're here, you wouldn't mind sharing what isss bothing you, would
you Hassssan?:

The boy slowly lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross legged and looking at her.

:I got into a fight with my friend.: Hasan confessed. :We were playing a game and I got upset.:

:Ssssore loser? Didn't sstrike me asss the type.: Melusine grinned.

Hasan refrained from swiping at her, :No, it's not that. Someone was about to stun her and I leapt in front. It was a stupid
mistake. She got mad because I thought it was stupid.:

:She got mad because you sssacrificed yourself for her? Are you sure?: Melusine asked him.

Hasan bit his lip. :She wasn't mad about that. I don't know. She just wants me to accept my feelings.:

:Your feelingsss?: Melusine repeated, :Well, that'sss not sso bad. Accept them and make up.:

:It's not that simple,: Hasan growled, :For one thing I'm the real Boy-Who-Lived. If I die, we're all doomed. I can't let
feelings get in the way of my duty to the Wizarding world.:

Melusine coiled in front of him, :The weight of the world issss not upon your shoulderssss.:

:Yeah, right...: Hasan scoffed.

Melusine flicked her tail in annoyance, :I think I can sssssee where she'ssss coming from. Hassssan, you beat
yoursssself up becausssse you did the right thing. Only you think it issss wrong and only becaussse you feel
responsibility to sssociety. I have lived a long time. I have ssseen Dark Lordsss rissse and fall. Not one perssson is to
blame. Not one person is resssponsible. I assure you, if you were to die, the world would go on.:

Hasan sighed. :That's strangely reassuring...:

:Of courssse it isss,: Melusine told him haughtily.

:I think I get it...my life just isn't that valuable.:

:Value isss all relative.: Melusine said with a sigh, :Hasssan, you owe no one. You have a duty to your personal
valuessss and thisss includesss your feelingsss. Do not shake your head at me! I once knew a mother who losst all her
ssonsss. She wailed everyday and every night becaussse her love wasss ssso ssstrong. Doesss thiss make her
weak? Think about it, Hasssan. I have more exploring to do...:

And with that, Melusine turned tail and slithered deeper into the chamber.

.oOo.

Barty Crouch Jr. sneered down at his third year class. Bright young faces, so malleable, so fragile. He would bet any one
of them would bend to the will of the Dark Lord. The thought made his smile all the more terrifying.

"Today, we will be learning more about the Unforgiveables." he began, letting his magical eye swivel around the room.
"Longbottom!" he shouted suddenly, "can you recall the two spells we learned last time?"

The Gryffindor froze, both in surprise and fear. "The imperious," he mumbled, "and the cru-cruciatous."

Moody nodded tersely. "Correct. Unfortunately, one of my snakes has disappeared" his eye roved over Hasan, "and the
other has miraculously died on me." He glanced at Draco who was turning a few shades paler and slightly green.
"However, we will just move right along. It is one thing to witness the spell, to see the cruciatous, to see the killing curse
hit! It is yet another to cast the spells, and quite another to suffer beneath them. One must suffer before causing suffering
because one must understand the pain first hand to really inflict it."

"But professor!" Hermione said, "That's illegal!"

Moody just huffed. "That's right, I forgot you were absent last class." he said thoughtfully. "No matter. The subject is
surprisingly simple to grasp. A smart muggle-born witch like yourself should be able to grasp it fairly easily." he sneered
maliciously.

Hermione jutted her chin up. "A smart muggle-born like myself would tell the headmaster about this."

Moody was silent for a moment. Keeping a blank face he said, "But he already knows."

Several people felt their hearts constrict as their last great hope was smothered. Hermione sniffed angrily.

"Alright, we'll go in a line. Parkinson up first, Bulstrode second." The entire class was stunned speechless as everyone
else hastened to comply. Everyone thought that somebody else would protest, and nobody wanted to be the one to
intervene. The line snaked around the room with Moody facing the head, wand held at the ready. Pansy glanced at him
uncertainly and gulped. "First, I will cast the imperious curse, then the cruciatous. When you are done, return to your desk
and write two rolls of parchment worth of your experience. Be as detailed as possible. Ready?"

Neville's stomach churned. Draco felt his heart speed up. Hermione wanted to vomit. Ron wanted to run...

He was greeted with silence. With a shrug, Moody pointed his wand.

"Imperio!"

.oOo.

Everybody realized early on that there was a strong silencing spell erected around the platform at the front of the room.
Hasan wasn't surprised in the least and wondered absently if any of the other staff were aware of Moody's teaching
methods. McGonagall's glare earlier that week suggested as much.

As the line drew shorter and therefore nearer to him, Hasan began to wonder what it would feel like under each curse.
He imagined that the cruciatous would be painful and the imperious senseless, but that was the textbook description.
He found that he couldn't really predict with great confidence the effect of both curses. He saw that Draco, who was a little
ways behind him, was turning a lovely shade of green, while Neville looked about to faint. All well. It was nothing that
could be held against them, that could be sure. As if anyone had room in their minds to be concerned for the welfare of
others. Personally, Hasan was hoping that no one would watch him while under the curses. Even if it wasn't at all an
accurate testament to his skills on the battlefield.

The people inched forward slowly, partly due to reluctance, and partly due from Moody's torture streak. It was clear from
the crazed look of his face that he found the prospect of torture not at all repugnant. He quite liked it, or at least, that was
why Hasan figured his tongue sometimes darted out of his mouth to moisten his ancient cracked lips. Millicent
Bulstrode was the unlucky person to go directly before Hasan himself. She approached the platform on jelly legs, her
teeth worrying her bottom lip. Moody took no time to prepare her before she down on the ground, twitching and
screaming in agony. Of course, her screams were silenced by the wards, but one only had to look at her chest
convulsing to imagine the strength of her voice. Next was the imperious curse, which might have been a blessing not to
think after that torture. From one moment to the next, the girl's demeanor entirely transformed. She was crying one
minute, and looking peaceful the next (but for the stray twitch of her arm.) Needless to say, Hasan wasn't at all eager to
have his fair share of the pain.

Moody released Bulstrode from his spell, sending her away with no more than a flick of his head. The girl stumbled
away, clutching her arms protectively around her chest, though no physical injury had been done. Hasan watched her
retreat, visibly shaken and very distressed. His last thought before stepping up to the platform was how late Madame
Pomfrey would be working that night.

.oOo.

Draco Malfoy was unsure of how he felt while watching his best friend and current target walk up to his doom. He
supposed there was some element of curiosity which he wouldn't blame himself for feeling- it was a natural reaction to
see how this person would fare- and some element of empathy. The trouble was, he just couldn't empathize with the
enemy and so his subconscious empathy turned to anger. What right did this boy have to pull his heartstrings? (In an
absolutely platonic way, you understand. ) What right did he have to manipulate him to feel guilty?

And this was how Neville Longbottom saw Draco Malfoy, face alive with a desire to see Hasan suffer. He had been
warned from birth that the Mafloys were a dark family and perhaps Draco was just emerging into his inheritance. It was a
scary thought indeed and did nothing to ease his personal fears of being vulnerable in front of him. And this made him
angry, because what fucking right did Moody have to make him vulnerable before his enemy? Moody should know of all
people what his parents suffered at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange! The thought made his blood boil. He glared at
Mafloy and seethed.

.oOo.

Hasan walked up to the platform, jade green eyes locked to Moody's one magical eye. He felt a smirk crawl onto his face,
challenging his professor to do his worst. Inwardly, he was a little less prepared.

Moody cocked his head to one side before opening his mouth. "Castell, you wouldn't have happened to see my snake,
have you?"

Hasan just stared at him. The Slytherins shifted uneasily- so much for being unnoticeable. "Pardon me, Moody, but I
thought we were in the middle of a torture session, not an interrogation."

The room felt suddenly warm as the tension mounted. Hermione, having already started on her paper, lifted her brown
eyes to watch through her hair.

"It was only a question. No need to get defensive." Moody snapped. His eye made a cursory glance around the room.
Most people that caught his eye immediately looked down or studied their hands. Moody smiled. "Get ready, Castell.
Crucio!"

The spell hit Hasan straight in the chest, sending the effects throughout his body. He crumbled to the floor, unaware of
how his body looked, twitching on the ground. It was a very usual reaction, nothing out of the ordinary, except that he
wasn't screaming. Now that was something interesting. Because of the silencing wards, most people did not notice, but
Moody did, and he grit his teeth in agitation.

It wasn't that Hasan had an unusual amount of pain tolerance. Honestly, he preferred to avoid pain as much as possible.
But he wouldn't give Moody the satisfaction of seeing him scream himself hoarse. He bit his tongue, drawing blood from
the wound and tasting it to distract him. He felt the tingling throughout his fingertips, imagined how the nerve endings
must be frying. He tried to rationalize that pain was only an illusion brought about by signals in the brain. Chopped off
limbs, for instance, were processed by the brain as being heavily damaged- not missing- hence the excruciating pain. It
was just like that, he thought to himself. It was just his brain trying to make sense of the signals. Pain wasn't really there.

But it was. Goddammit Hasan. It was there.

Moody frowned at his silent victim, very unhappy indeed. He couldn't let this boy thwart him. He just couldn't. Gathering
his magic, he sent it out through his wand. The only thought in his mind was to make him scream.
At first, Hasan did nothing but curl into a tighter ball. What was funny, almost, was that the boy seemed to be muttering to
himself. Granted, insanity was sometimes a side-effect but it was entirely too early for something of that nature to occur.
After all, it had only been about twenty seconds so far- not nearly enough to cause permanent damage. Perhaps another
few seconds?

Hasan felt the surge of power immediately. That bastard! It was so much harder to control himself now, when his brain
was on overload. He couldn't help it. Cursing Moody in rapid French, Hasan let out a scream, letting all his pent up rage
come out through his voice. He sincerely hoped that Moody's eardrums would shatter. But alas, the wards were in place,
and only Neville and Draco were privy to his suffering. Perhaps the only good thing was that the pain immediately began
to cease. Just like that. Gone.

Hasan felt the spell recede from his system like hands from some ghost. He mentally berated himself for being so weak
when in fact it had been illusionary all along. That was, until he tried to stand and found that he couldn't. His legs folded
under him like a helpless foal's; the glare he promptly sent Moody rivaled a Basilisk's. Moody found that his victory was
slightly dampened. The stupid brat was still challenging him! With a hardly concealed growl, he shot a silent imperio at
Hasan who was not entirely unprepared. He knew from the moment the man had doubled the power of the curse that he
wasn't going to play fair. So it wasn't a surprise to find his thoughts racing from conspiracy theory to the next, and
completely empty the next.

It felt...oddly comforting to empty his mind. The voice that was always there would have been shouting: "Don't you dare
lose control! Look at him! Watch his eyes! You can't let him..." But that voice was muffled. Now it was only a bunch of
clouds, air, fluff. It was freedom. Still, Hasan felt uneasy. Especially when a voice shot from nowhere, like a red snake in
the grass, telling him to jump.

Jump on the desk. Jump on the desk. Jump on the- I don't see why- desk. Jump on the desk. No sense. Jump on the-
Give me a reason- desk. Jump on the desk. Jump- Get- what? No please?- on the desk. Tell me why. No reason. Just
Jump. Come on, jump. Motivation? Incentive? Jump. Nothing to do but jump. Want to jump? Jump. Jump. Jump. Why?
JUMP. Why? Tell me why. Because I said so.

Because I said so.

Because I said so.

Who?

Who says?

Who?

Who are you?

Because I said so.

You don't belong here.

I am you. Listen to me.

NO! You don't belong here.

Listen. Listen to me. Liste-

Get. The. Bloody. Fuck. Out. Of My Mind.

BANG!

Moody was thrust backwards into his desk, while Hasan did a funny twist hop thing, landing at an odd angle on his side.
Several people gasped around the room, though many had indeed expected something after seeing Moody eye him the
way he did. The Slytherins had had one eye on them the entire time. But the question on everyone's mind was: What had
happened?

Hasan dusted himself off before rising gingerly to his feet. His side ached, in fact, his fingertips hurt as did his toes. And,
ouch! His tongue was swollen. He stole one glance at Moody, clutching his head from hitting the corner of Moody's desk,
and fairly scurried out of the room. He almost ran over a poor first year clutching a note.

To Madame Pomfrey's? To the dungeons? All he could do was run.

A/N: What did you think about the conclusion of the Dueling Club game? Did you predict the winner? Do you think Luna is
justified in her thought process? Do you like Narcissa? I generally like her character since she did redeem herself in
Book 7. Altair is continuing with his Horcrux hunting. What will he do with them? Draco is getting suspicious! What's with
Melusine? Has anyone researched her name yet? Here's a hint: Starbucks. And what's up with Moody?

Thank you everyone who has reviewed and shown support! Here are the people who reviewed last chapter:

Separ (Thank you!), Nightcrawlerfw (You're welcome!), Wishfull-star(Thanks!), Remvis(Aww, that's too sweet!),
MiloWaffles(True, true), blagyz(Cheers to you too!), EndlessChains(As always, I truly appreciate your insightful
reviews and good ideas), Funnygurl143(good idea!), Nagilover4ever( As always, thanks for reviewing! You're a
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PLEASE VOTE AND REVIEW:

What Should a Unicorn/Thestral be called?

a) Unistral

b) Threstcorn

c) Cornstral

d) _other
*Chapter 31*: Not All is Fragile
A/N: How is everybody's summer? I can't believe we're in the second half of July already...oh dear...

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for these lovely 717 REVIEWS! You guys rock! Also:

The results of last chapters vote: Unistral! (See? Now you can read that part of the story thinking, wow I made a
difference in the world!)

"You're infinitely many, the one despising

the one hurting, the one being, the one seeking

and all the others together.

Turn around

Be careless

Not all is fragile

Hear nothing from around you

Because you're sacred, because you're alive

Because the most important thing is not what you are

but what you chose to be."

-Blizzard by Fauve

Return of Emerald

Chapter 31: Not All is Fragile

Astoria Greengrass wasn't sure what to expect when she entered Professor Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts
classroom. Yes, she had Moody as her defense teacher. Yes, she had been in the defense room before. But there was
something different about the third year class which had everybody talking. Rumors of the Unforgiveables being used on
snakes and students, supplemented certainly by the snake which had made its way into her common room, were fairly
popular around the castle. Not that she had seen any of it. And this was why she nearly fell over when the door burst
open to reveal a much shaken Hasan- the boy who took in the mysterious disappearing snake.

Astoria clutched her message to her chest, taking a deep breath before peaking inside. Within the room, twenty
Slytherins and Gryffindors were gaping in shock at her (well, at the door). Giving a half-hearted nervous smile, she
ventured inside.

"Class dismissed!" Moody barked harshly. The room rose as one and made for the exit, but Astoria still had to give Draco
the note! Spotting his blonde hair amongst the crowd, she reached for his robe sleeve and tugged.

Malfoy snapped around immediately, eyes narrowing and expression taut. When he realized it was only her, his
expression softened fractionally.

"A message from Professor Dumbledore," she murmured nervously. With one scared glance back at Moody, Astoria
scampered towards the exit, leaving Draco to wonder what on earth the old coot could want to talk to him about...

"Mr. Malfoy,

If you could b e so kind as to come to tea at 4 I would b e forever grateful.

- Professor Dumb ledore

P.S. I like lemon drops"

Draco Malfoy growled in irritation. It should be illegal for a teacher to request the presence of a child! Just because he
attended the headmaster's bloody school didn't very well give him the right to start summoning people on his whim.
Damn him.

He needed time to cool down. There were way too many emotions inside him right now to even think about meeting the
headmaster! Where was Hasan? was the one question at the forefront of his mind. What the bloody hell had happened
in there anyway? And next class, Draco knew he would be going next. Anxiety rose like bile in his throat.

It was 4.

With another growl, Draco trudged to tea time.

.oOo.

Dumbledore sat thoughtfully at his desk as he waited for the Malfoy heir to come up. There were a great deal many
things on his mind at the moment, including what to do about the Malfoys. Sure, Lucius had given his word that they
would support Dumbledore in this war, but Draco on the other hand- well, he was a loose cannon. Severus had
mentioned as much last week after he had tried and failed to get the boy to open up to him. But Dumbledore wasn't
intent upon getting the Malfoy heir to open up. His job at present was to get him to understand that the Light always had a
place for him. At least, he hoped that this was enough to satisfy Lucius who had adamantly insisted that Draco have his
full protection...

Presently, one of his little silver instruments began to spin, signaling the arrival of somebody at his door. Albus cracked
his surprisingly non-arthritic knuckles. Showtime!

.oOo.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy! Have a seat! I'm very happy that you've come to have tea with me."

Draco hovered in the door uncertainly. He wasn't sure what he was doing here and didn't want to give more away than
was absolutely necessary. More of what?- he didn't know.

Albus smiled at him as he approached the desk.

"Of course, you could have anything you want from the kitchens."

"No, tea is fine," Draco responded tersely. "Thank you."

The headmaster nodded before snapping his fingers. A tea tray appeared right on his desk. Albus gestured for the boy to
sit down. Draco did so.

"Now, Draco-" (Draco's ears perked up at his given name), "-I'm regretful to say that I haven't asked you about your
version of events last year."

"Last...year?" Draco queried, starting to worry.

"Yes, the Chamber of Secrets, my boy," Albus said, looking very tired all of a sudden. He had meant to ask as a way of
starting a friendly conversation, but perhaps Basilisks were not altogether a very starting pleasant topic.

"I can't remember much," Draco ground out.

"Very well," Albus said. "What would you like to talk about?"

Draco looked taken aback for a second. "What's this even about? Why am I here?"

Albus sighed. "You are here, Draco, because I want you to know that despite being in Slytherin House, you still have an
equally important place in this school. You may be...exposed to certain influences which other students may not because
of their heritage, but nevertheless, you are still a part of this school."

Certain influences, Draco snorted sardonically. Yeah, like the Dark Lord?

"You know, Draco (he twitched in irritation), I used to be just like you when I was young."

Albus watched as the boy's eyes rose to meet his, checking for mockery. Draco kept his mouth firmly shut. Albus sighed
and continued.
"Well, I was young for one thing. I attended Hogwarts. I was most nearly in Slytherin, and I was handsome- if you could
ever believe that."

Draco was still gaping at the Slytherin part.

"Well," Dumbledore continued, "Those are all external traits. Internally, you might have guessed, I was rather a different
person."

Despite himself, Draco felt his interest piqued, but not wanting to give himself away, he hastily took a sip of tea.

"Like you, I was heavily influenced by those closest to me. My best friend, and then lover, was the most prominent
influence on my life. Together, we plotted world domination."

Draco spit out his tea.

"Oh yes, I remember it now," Albus mused, "I was power hungry, a bit confused, very ambitious, and very very talented. I
tell you this, not to brag, but to tell you that power can be used in either direction. For good or for bad. When I was young,
this was not how I thought. When I was young, I believed that there was only power accessible to those worthy. I believed
myself worthy, foolishly I might add. As a half-blood I thought I had to prove myself to be respected. An idea which I
believe Lord Voldemort has adopted. But luckily, I came to my senses...but the price was tall. Too tall." His ice blue eyes
locked onto Draco's. "I hope you will not have to pay that price."

Draco licked his lips. That was his cue, he felt it. He got up, scraping his chair along the stone floor.

"Professor?" Draco asked, not able to help himself. "What...happened to your friend?"

The headmaster turned back around. "His name was Gellert Grindelwald."

.oOo.

Dinner that night had many people biting their lips and staring at the Slytherin table. Tales of Hasan's heroic struggle
against the dark curses had spread faster than Peeves with freshly made dungbombs! Many threw an accusatory glance
Moody's way, and some even dared to look at Dumbledore for hiring such a despicable man.

"What happened, Hasan?" Tracey questioned softly, being the first to speak to the silent boy. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine as ever," Hasan muttered, eyes downcast.

"Where'd you go?"

Hasan studied his hands for a moment. He had run down to the Great Lake to be honest, finding a shady tree and just
resting there a while. It felt comforting to know that no one was going to come and find him. And he really wasn't ready to
give up that freedom quite yet.

"I walked around," he answered tonelessly.

Tracey nodded and retreated.

"Moody really shouldn't have done that," Daphne commented reprovingly with a heavy frown. "He's supposed to be our
teacher, not our torturer!"

"Do you think he found out about the snake?" Tracey interjected suddenly. "I mean, not to minimize anybody else's
experience, but didn't it seem like he was being particularly harsh on Hasan?"

Daphne pursed her lips. "I want to say that none of our housemates told, but with that magical eye of his I'm not sure they
needed to. It's damn creepy. Ever wonder if he can see through our clothes?"

Draco gave a loud snort from across the table, drawing their eyes to him. "Dumbledore would hire someone that creepy."

"Draco!" Tracey admonished, affronted. "I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't allow that."

"Yeah?" Draco challenged, feeling a bit reckless, "Bet you didn't think he struck down his best friend either."

Hasan turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

"Gellert Grindelwald," he said smugly.

"And?"

"They used to be best friends. Lovers." Draco made a love-struck face, lips puckered in mockery.

"Oh, do shut up, Draco!" Daphne said, rolling her eyes.

"What? It's true," Draco sneered.

Hasan shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Sometimes your best friends can become your worst enemies."

Before Draco could respond to that particular comment, Daphne swiftly stepped in. "I was only joking," she said sharply.
"And anyway, I'm glad you're alright Hasan."

"Yeah," Hasan agreed evenly, watching Draco through jaded eyes. "I'm fine."

.oOo.

After his meal, Albus Dumbledore popped a lemon drop quickly into his mouth. Nervous he was not, just perhaps...a
little uneasy. What would the students think when they learned that their headmaster was a little less lucid? Forget that.
What would his staff think once they learned he was deficient? Maybe he was worrying over nothing. It was just a simple
slip of the mind, after all.

Albus stood up.

"Your attention please!" His voice was magically magnified throughout the hall. "As the headmaster of this school, there
are certain responsibilities which I must carry out. I am sorry to say I have failed you."

(Draco flashed his table a smirk. "Told you.")

Everyone's eyes were on the headmaster, standing tall in his cloudy blue hat and matching robes.

"What I mean to say is," –(Severus finally looked up from his plate)- "I have forgotten to send out the owl notifications for
your Hogsmeade trips."

When the hall erupted into chatter, the headmaster hastily added that it was an opportunity available only to those in their
third year and higher. "I have already sent your parents verification letters with information about the historic Wizarding
town. If your parent or guardian has signed for you in previous years then please disregard this message and tell your
parents to do the same. If, for whatever reason, you need another copy of the permission form, just ask your Head of
House for another. Thank you."

And with that, Albus Dumbledore sat back down.

"Albus, if you had told me I would have done it!" Minerva whispered in earnest from her side of the table.

"I know," Albus said. "But I thought they should know when people in authority have slip-ups. We're not gods. It's good for
them to see we can make mistakes too."

That way they can see my slow descent. So they won't b e shocked if I suddenly fall...

Minerva looked at him gently. She wasn't sure if she believed his story but she was damned well sure she was going to
support him. "Well...if you need anything else, Albus."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, touched at her devotion. "Thank you, Minerva."

.oOo.

Hasan wasn't sure what to make of Draco's new knowledge. Where had Draco heard that Albus Dumbledore and Gellert
Grindelwald were...together? Where had he even heard that Albus Dumbledore was GAY? (Okay, so maybe he acted
kind of a bit like sort of...but Hasan wasn't the champion of social cues either. Plus, he had an innate resistance to
categorizing people- which was ideologically good, but logically bad for navigating the social plane.)

All of this aside, where had Draco heard it? Surely the headmaster hadn't confessed to him? What good would that have
done except to gain his trust? And that didn't make a whole lot of sense either.

"Hey, Draco. I know you're a b ab y Death Eater, b ut guess what? I'm GAY for Grindelwald! Want to come over to the Light
now?"
Hasan wasn't sure if he should make anything out of it. Maybe it was just one of those weird things that everyone knew in
England...? And if Hasan was raised in England then perhaps he would have known too. Hasan sighed. He didn't have
time to waste anymore. Severus was waiting for him for his Occlumency lesson and he'd be damned if he was going to
be late for that!

Hasan grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk and the Marauder's Map for good measure. Severus really was just
right down the hall, but it was best to be cautious about such matters.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he whispered, watching as the lines on the map ran down, becoming darker.
Dots blossomed slowly across the page. He scanned the environs around the dormitories; there was Draco, brooding in
his room, Daphne and Tracey in the common room, Theodore Nott with Blaise Zabini in the corner. His eyes swept
around the corridors closest to him, finally coming across a dot which caught his attention. Barty Crouch. He
remembered the name from his visions but...wait, hadn't he seen that dot before though? Oh Salazar! What was a Death
Eater doing in Hogwarts? And why was he pacing in Professor Moody's office...?

Hasan shuddered violently, suddenly. No. That wasn't right. It couldn't be.

He had to get to Professor Snape's office right now! Voldemort just could NOT be looking for him! He couldn't! He was in
bloody fucking HOGWARTS for crying out loud! Albus Dumbledore wouldn't hire a Death Eater!

Calm down, Hasan...just b reathe.

But the fact remained...here he was. He searched the map for Dumbledore now, wondering perhaps wistfully, if
Dumbledore was even investigating the allegations against Moody's unconventional teaching methods. But lo and
behold, a man named Kingsley Shacklebolt was in his office and Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen...

.oOo.

Severus Snape sat at his desk, greasy hair pouring over the tome. Mind Magick. Omnia really was a genius to have
written such a nasty piece of work. Though it wasn't exactly dark magic, it sure wasn't light either, and it was dark enough
to warrant guarding under several wards.

To place one's memories into another vessel was downright unnatural, not that magic was extremely natural in the first
place. Now to place those memories into another living thing- a being which existed and breathed and had its own
memories- now this was dangerous. To learn that Altair not only knew of this very sensitive branch of magic but had
practiced it on the Wizarding World's only savior was terrifying in itself. And just to make Severus' life a lot easier, he was
the only one with the ability to fix him up again.

This stress may have accounted for the fact that there were great bags under the Potion Master's eyes (glamoured,
naturally) but were nonetheless there. With a sigh, he pushed the tome away from him and shut his eyes, recounting
what he had learned so far:

The vessel, which would be Hasan, had to be asleep or sedated in some way to place the memories inside the mind. It
wouldn't be unusual for the subject to be in a comatose state for a day to upwards of a week. The memories would have
to be sealed away in a separate compartment in the brain, away from the individual's personal memories. This in turn
would require a lot of energy- for the memories to latch onto the host and to sustain themselves. From there, the
memories would simply sit in the mind- at least theoretically, because as Hasan had experienced, traumatic events (i.e.
Dementor encounters) could cause a breakage in the barrier, allowing some memories to seep through. And this was
about when Severus started to panic, for mixing memories was about as safe as poking Voldemort in the eye.

To extract the memories was equally as safe, which was to say not safe at all. There was a potion to extract such
memories. A potion which was made of various magical things...and something which didn't exist. Something which
could not possibly exist:

Twenty drops of Merlin's tears.

A knock at the door, startled the Potions' Master to attention. He nearly jumped, an action not habitual of the man, which
could only attest to the magnitude of his concentration. Quickly, Severus spelled away the book inside his desk, whipping
around to stand protectively in front of it. Someone knocked again. Persistent little buggers- this had better be important.
In ten swift strides, Severus had crossed the room. Putting on a blank face, he opened the door.

"Professor Snape?"

Hasan stood before him, jade green eyes wide, full of something like panic. Severus could almost imagine how the
emerald would have shaken inside the socket, but all he could focus on was the slight flush of the face that told of a
previous run. In the boy's hands was an all too familiar silver cloak, and in his other hand was a spare bit of parchment.

"Mr. Castell," Snape said curtly with an accompanied nod. "Come inside."

Severus had nearly forgotten the Occlumency lesson in his panic, but he was more than relieved to see Hasan at his
door instead of some unnamed non compos mentis, senile old man. He stepped aside to allow Hasan to scurry in the
office.

"I need to speak with you."

Severus quirked an eyebrow as he shut the door softly behind him. "As do I."

Hasan turned around quickly, lower lip trapped between his teeth.

"There's a Death Eater at the school!" Hasan blurted out suddenly, "Look!" He thrust the Marauders' Map under the
beaklike nose of his professor, hands shaking a bit with worry.

Oh Merlin...Severus thought. How was he supposed to explain this to Hasan? He didn't bother glancing at the map
because he already knew what he'd see.

With a breath, Severus asked, "Do you recall the vision you had about Moody and Amelia Bones?" Hasan nodded
gingerly. Snape continued, "Moody was captured and replaced by Barty Crouch Jr. that night. The man teaching you now
is a Death Eater, but I don't believe he knows who you are."

A look of horror came over the boy's face.

"But the Dark Lord does! How long have you known this? Didn't you think it would be important to tell me that my D.A.D.A.
teacher was trying to KILL ME?"

"Hasan," Severus began, pinching the bridge of his nose, "the Dark Lord knows much but shares very little. Barty is but a
pawn, one of the newly freed Death Eaters from Azkaban. The Dark Lord would not entrust him with this information."

"But he would trust him to enter the Department of Mysteries!" Hasan accused.

"He-" Snape paused, eyeing Hasan shrewdly. "How do you know of the Department of Mysteries?"

Hasan blinked. "It was in the Daily Prophet," he said, face devoid of emotion. He had the unshakable feeling that he had
just struck gold without meaning to. He watched Severus carefully, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. "Professor
Trelawney says that prophecies are stored down there..."

Severus almost cursed right then. Damn that old witch! If Hasan could put two and two together then what was to stop
everyone else from knowing the Dark Lord's most intimate plans?

"That is none of your concern," Severus said with finality.

"But-"

"Hasan," they locked eyes, "you do not have to handle the weight of the world. It is our job as adults to handle these
things. And besides, we have more important things to talk about such as your memories."

Hasan truly hated him right now, looking smugly down at him as if he had just won some battle. Hasan was torn
between two equally important topics: the Department of Mysteries and Lucius' memories. But he knew what he wanted
to know. The Dark Lord was after a prophecy and Severus knew about it...which most likely meant Dumbledore knew too.
He filed this information away for later, intent on making Severus answer for changing the topic.

"What about my memories?" Hasan asked softly, deciding to just go along with the flow of the conversation.

"There is a potion..." Severus said, not meeting his eyes. Hasan picked this up immediately and panic began to bubble
in his chest.

"What? What's wrong with it?" Hasan demanded sharply.

"It requires Merlin's tears. Hasan, there is no such thing as Merlin's tears."

...
"WHAT?"

Severus furrowed his eyebrows. Trust Altair to pick the one potion with truly mythical ingredients...Sometimes he hated
the man. Sometimes. "The potion requires twenty drops of Merlin's tears, but as far as I am aware, no such thing exists."

"You mean to tell me that-that these memories are STUCK in my mind?" Hasan was near hyperventilating by the time he
got to the word 'mind'.

"There must be a way. If your father could figure out how to do it, then there must be a way to reverse it. I promise you that
we will." His black eyes were brooding and he looked at Hasan with determination. "I give you my word." And in that
moment, the air crackled.

Hasan was silent. It felt oddly reassuring to have that promise. Still, who the hell could he even rely on? He stumbled
over to the couch and sank into it without invitation. Severus didn't mind.

"Merlin's tears," Severus muttered. "It just had to be Merlin's tears..."

Hasan nodded, looking at the floor with disinterest. This was the man, sitting with him, who had met his father when he
was young. The man who could cure his father's migraines even when the magic pounded on his brain. The one with
the inventions and the spells and the potions. There was so much he didn't know about him. But somehow he believed
him when he said he would fix this. Severus would solve this problem. And that was alright.

And for the first time in a long time, Hasan felt safe.

.oOo.

Luna Lovegood felt the soft, cool, soil squish between her bare toes. Her blond hair was gently tangled down her back
as the wind swept through her legs.

The Forbidden Forest.

Why was it forbidden? Luna smiled to herself as she wove through the trees. This was not the first time she had entered
the forest. Nor was it the last. She had to admit that it was a bit warmer right after summer, but it was still warm enough
out to forego wearing a sweater. As she ventured deeper into the woods, the trees grew thicker and denser together.
Further in, there were hoof-prints on the forest floor along with various clicks and chirps from unknown creatures. And
even further in, when the shadows grew from grey to pitch black, the silver hairs on the low branches stood out like stars.

Luna stood in the clearing, where one side was covered in shadow, and the other side felt the last rays of the sun. Eyes
shut, arms outstretched, her lips quirked up.

"I'm here!"

A flock of birds flew up from one tree like a cloud, not at all pleased at the sudden disturbance. And that was all that
happened for a while until a soft muzzle pressed against her hair. It quivered slightly, the powerful muscles twitching to
rid of any wayward hair, before nuzzling her again. Luna smiled as she cracked open her silver eyes.

"Hey Halo," she said softly, reaching out her hand and splaying her fingers gently over the snout. The unicorn huffed in
response, then padded closer to her. There were other eyes too, emerging from the shadows. Or maybe none at all. "It's
okay, it's just me," Luna told them, wanting to say hello to all her unicorn friends. "Oh! I nearly forgot!"

While Halo might have remembered her scent, some were less than keen to mingle with the two-legged creature.
Shutting her eyes, Luna thought about the way her muscles though lean and taut, would ripple as she moved, the way
her eyes saw further from side to side, the way she could whip her tail around and her mane to say hello. The shift was
immediate. Where once a girl with light blonde hair stood in the middle of the forest, now stood a young chestnut mare
with no humans for at least three miles.

"Luna?" Halo asked, or rather neighed, but it sounded intelligible enough.

"Halo, yeah it's me!" Luna grinned. She twirled her light brown tail around, thinking how funny it was that the bright silver
unicorns welcomed such a plain horse as herself into the fold.

"Oh, Luna!" another said, emerging into the clearing. Luna turned her great head towards the noise, only to blink in
surprise. It was Shadow- the thestral she so creatively named. But why was he here? This was Unicorn territory!

"Shadow?" Luna asked uncertainly. Oh no! She did NOT just show up in the middle of a forest fight! Unicorns were
known to be terribly territorial, and Thestrals- as social as they were- never much got along with the shining beauties. A
fight between them could very well expand to the rest of the forest- it had before, and it spelled disaster for any
defenseless passerby like herself.

Shifting uneasily, Luna looked between the two. "Is...?"

"It's alright, Luna," Halo interjected suddenly. "This is the Crossroads. A place not belonging to any one creature."

"It's a common meeting place for negotiations and for...breeding grounds as it is acknowledged to be a place of peace,"
Shadow added slowly.

"...oh." Luna said after a while. Well, that was good then, right? At least she wouldn't die today! "So...um. What are you two
doing here? Is there a meeting today?"

Shadow shifted his wings a bit while Halo held her head up high. "No, we're just meeting here to talk. Shadow is a friend
of mine." Halo said, "But because of what he is, we can't meet anywhere else, you understand."

Luna gave a smile, as much of one as a horse could give. Oh, that made perfect sense! Shadow looked at her steadily
before turning his gaze to Halo. He felt vaguely uncomfortable leaving her with this knowledge because one slip of the
tongue could have both herds after him...but Luna seemed safe enough, and really, for him and Halo to pull this off they
were going to need an ally.

Luna watched the way Shadow considered her, watched the way Halo seemed to light up in the mere presence of the
thestral and all became clear.

"You're lovers aren't you?"

Shadow choked. Halo stuck her nose in the air, "Of course, Luna. And Shadow, there really isn't any need to deny it."

Shadow continued to choke- probably on weird magical spittle, as Luna flicked her tail.

"Your secret is safe with me," she said cheerily. "But um, I just realized I have something to do something back at...my
place." The awkwardness was indescribable. To see her unicorn friend and her thestral friend. Together. Together-
Together. And- wait- could thestrals and unicorns even MATE? Well, less likely things had happened, Luna had to admit.
Come on, centaurs?

Hastily scampering through the trees, Luna transformed back into her former self, with the sense that something
significant had just happened. It was when the castle was finally within her sight that she finally grasped what that
something was, and, feeling that she could analyze it more thoroughly by saying it aloud, began to sing the first few lines
of a song she swore she had heard a long time ago...

"The one who knows the ways of half its kind reaches a Crossroads. Going left the half-kind discovers half-minds.
Returning right, half-love can restore what pain has taken..."

.oOo.

Narcissa looked around the buzzing office with distaste. Dumbledore might be the headmaster with irreplaceable
artifacts and whirring silver instruments, but he could at least be discriminating about it. Everything was lying higgly
piggly on the shelves, modern texts beside ancient stones. It was a wonder the old coot could find anything at all!

Lucius nudged his wife on the elbow to pay attention. He could feel her attention slipping- no doubt from the disarray of
the room- and he needed her to be on high alert. Something wasn't quite right about this whole situation and Lucius was
going to find out what. For one thing, he had been invited to the headmaster's office for tea, but while the door was
unlocked, the office was empty. And didn't that just reek of distrust.

Suddenly, Dumbledore stepped from behind a shelf in flowing blue robes. "Mr. Malfoy. Mrs. Malfoy. Please, have a seat."
The headmaster waved his wand and two chairs appeared in front of the headmaster's desk. "I insist."

Lucius glanced at his wife through his peripheral vision. She was looking at the chairs critically, frowning with
concentration. There was something definitely off here. Dumbledore hadn't even really greeted Narcissa despite never
having actually spoken to her about her change in loyalties. Wasn't it a bit much to assume that she was safe to have in
his office? And why sit down immediately? Sitting was a vulnerable position and to get down to business right away?-
now that was very unDumbledorelike. Dumbledore, loath as he was to admit it, was always concerned about not scaring
his guests and easing them into a position of vulnerability very subtlety.
"Albus," Lucius asked, watching as the man's eyes twitched at the use of his first name. "I admit to not knowing why
we're here."

Lucius remained standing as he waited. Albus licked his lips.

"You sent me a letter."

"Indeed I did," Lucius lied.

"And I wish to discuss it."

"Discuss what?" Narcissa chimed in, hand caressing the back of the chair to avoid sitting in it.

"Gringott's." Albus bit out. "There was a...complication with the request."

"Then why aren't you at Gringott's right now? Trying to sort it out?" Lucius questioned boldly, taking a step closer to the
man.

Albus glared. "We are trying!" Then seemed to freeze up. He had used the word We.

Narcissa had her wand pointed at him just as the man had his wand pointed at Lucius. Lucius, unlike both of them,
stood nonchalantly in the crossfire. He knew that whoever this man was, he was on the side of the Light- his side, now-
and that Dumbledore trusted whoever it was with his identity. The question was –who?

"Now, now, Cissa. This is clearly someone who Dumbledore trusts and is therefore an ally."

"I wouldn't assume that much, Malfoy," Fake-Albus spat.

"Hmm," Lucius tilted his head as he considered the elderly man in front of him. Stance like an auror, head held proudly.
Who did he know that was absent from the Ministry lately? Umbridge- not bloody likely. Shacklebolt? "Then I'm afraid I'll
have to tell Albus of your poor hosting skills. We'll come back when his lapdogs learn some manners."

"We're not scum like you Death Eaters. Tell Albus all you like. I don't need to explain myself to you." Even so, there was a
lack of venom in his words and Lucius knew he had gotten to him. Yep, definitely Kingsley- the man was too
contemplative for his own good.

"Well if that's how you feel," Narcissa sniffed. "Come, we're leaving."

Lucius shook his head. "I'll wait for Albus to explain this to me. Did he honestly think we'd answer to just anyone?"

The Possibly-Kingsley huffed. "Sit. We'll wait together."

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long. Albus himself came through the doors in a flamboyant red robe topped with a
muggle neck tie. Narcissa nearly died.

"Dumbledore," Kingsley said reverently. "The Malfoys have refused to-"

But Albus put up a hand to silence him. "Lucius, Narcissa. I expected no less from you, however, I must ask how you can
expect to be accepted by the Light if you cannot even enjoy a little tea with Kingsley. He's arguably the most open-minded
of the Order." He paused to let that sink in. "And Kingsley, you could have at least served the tea. It's getting cold!"

"It's a magical tea pot, Albus," Kingsley pointed out petulantly. "But now that you're here there's no reason for me to..."

"No, I would appreciate it if you would stay," Albus said firmly but pleasantly. "Lucius, Narcissa, allow me to formally
introduce you to Kingsley Shacklebolt. He has graciously agreed to help me over the course of the coming years, as you
never know when you need to leave to run a few errands."

Lucius nodded. A few errands- right. He glanced over at Kingsley but found he just couldn't stand to see two
Dumbledores in the same room. Instead he spoke, "Kingsley had said that there were some complications...with the
bank?"

"Indeed. Your request has not gone through."

Silence. Lucius had sent a request to the bank to allow Albus access to the family vaults, but that had been a week ago
at least! How it could it not have gotten through? Unless...unless...?
"Why not?" Narcissa demanded sharply with a bold superior air. "There must be some mistake, I signed the document
myself."

"I assure you, Narcissa, that goblins do not make mistakes."

Kingsley stroked his beard (or rather, Albus' beard) before asking, "Are we sure that the Malfoys are really the Head of the
Black family?"

"Draco is too young," Narcissa said firmly.

"But what of Sirius Black?" Kingsley asked.

Albus shook his head, "I had him sign the same documents last night, but the goblins denied that request as well. The
only way to access the vaults is to receive an invitation from the head of the family..."

"But that can't be!" Kingsley protested, "There must be some mistake."

"Or perhaps there is a family member whom no one knows about?" Albus suggested lightly.

Lucius and Narcissa froze at once. Oh damn. Altair.

"I assure you, there is no one," Narcissa said in earnest. "Now, if you'll excuse us, headmaster, Mr. Shacklebolt- Lucius
and I must attend to our own affairs, because apparently our vaults are in disarray. I thank you for your hospitality." With a
pointed glance at the unopened, steaming tea pot, Narcissa strutted out of the room with Lucius behind her. Their
hearts, as one, were pounding.

Fuck it all. Altair knew. Altair knew and had shut down visitor access and now Dumbledore knew there was someone
else. Fuck it all. They had to get out of here!

A/N: What side will Draco choose? Do you like dark Draco or light Draco? Do you think Severus will find the Merlin
tears? Are there Merlin Tears? Will Dumbledore have more slip ups? Will Minerva be the next headmistress? Who
can say?

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed last chapter: (My heart and love goes out to you!)

migotka21 (Haha, glad you know!), Wishfull-star (Thanks so much!), Pheonixs1518 (Thanks for voting!), Joe (Don't
worry, Draco will be in the story!), EndlessChains (Thanks as always and for the vote!), Separ (Thank you!), history
(Thanks for the lovely review), Dee (Thanks for voting!), Maiannaise (Thanks for the vote!), Mystical32 (Thanks for the
vote!), Medusa's Basilisk (Thanks for the vote! Unfortunately, Amelia Bones is dead! :P ), Nightcrawlerfw (Thanks for the
vote! And awww, hope this chapter was just as good), JPElles (Hasan's character will still be topsy turvy. Let's be frank, I
didn't realize I had him ooc at times but have added in later chapters explanations or at least incorporated it. Hope it
works!), BlackRyuji (Thanks so much, yup finally saw the map!), Remvis (Thank you as always. Aww, you're making me
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what a crossbreed would look like, just for fun lol, and was very impressed by people's imaginations and artistic talent.)

Please leave me a love note! And I'll update as soon as I can!

*Chapter 32*: Misfire
Author's Note: I've been inconsistently switching between calling him Barty Crouch Junior and Moody. I don't think
you'll have trouble understanding who I'm talking about though.

Thanks for the lovely TEN reviews! Let's aim for 750! :)

And there's a VOTE at the end!

"It's light or darkness,

Love or glory,

Defeat, victory,

Either you win or you misfire

We just want to avoid it,

to flee from our nightmares"

- En attendant la fin par M. Pokora

Chapter 32: Misfire

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I assure you we goblins have not made a single mistake." Gornuk told the man evenly.

Lucius sighed in exasperation. Altair was the only possible explanation for why he was now unable to grant guest
access to others, but did he really want to tell the goblins this?

Narcissa gently nudged her husband on the arm. "If Lordship were transferred over to another relative, we would have
been informed of it, correct?"

Gornuk eyed the extremely ruffled witch with unguarded suspicion. "If he or she had no objections to such public
exposure, then that would indeed be proper procedure."

Narcissa frowned at his comment. It was plain that all three understood each other perfectly well, yet none were
comfortable enough to speak of the matter at hand.

"Gornuk," Lucius said in an insincere softer tone which he usually reserved for Draco, "Have you spoken to this new
Head? Do you know his motivations for restricting guest access? I have learned that I can still access all my vaults, and
yet, if there were something he did not wish others to see, my access would have also been revoked."

"I cannot say." Gornuk said obstinately, causing Narcissa to grow angrier. When Narcissa looked about to hex his head
off, they heard an opportune shout from the other side of the room. "Griphook!" Gornuk exclaimed with surprise. "I was
just about to tell these people that-"

But Griphook firmly ignored him, only having eyes to regard Narcissa appraisingly. "Back again, Misses?" he asked
somewhat mockingly. Lucius shot a quick look at his wife. "Gornuk," he said assertively, not taking his eyes from the
couple, "I believe I can assist them from here, thank you."

Gornuk seemed relieved to hear these words for he quickly scurried away.

"Good luck, Griphook." he threw over his shoulder before cackling to himself.

Again, the second goblin ignored him. "Right this way if you please, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. This is a matter best heard by as
few ears as possible..."

.oOo.

Griphook purposefully lead them through a back hallway, making several turns before he was satisfied they were in far
enough. The deeper they went inside the labyrinth that was Gringott's bank, the colder the air seemed to become. Out of
the corner of his mouth, Lucius hissed- "Again?" in reference to Griphook's greeting. Narcissa was stark in the face, too
surprised to even purse her lips. She gave him an imperceptible nod.

"Right." Griphook announced gruffly, "Here we are, Private Room 119. Stand back!" Pressing his scaly hand against a
sensor on the door, Griphook extracted a key from his pocket and fit it inside the lock. With a click, the door swung open
to allow the three entry. "Have a seat." Griphook said needlessly, gesturing for the two to sit across him at a low glass
table. "I have all the necessary documents and files still here."

Lucius' eyebrows rose sharply at the use of still. "You mean...you have spoken with him recently?" he asked sharply.

Griphook nodded, taking a folder from the drawer and placing it openly between them. "A few days ago, in fact. Early in
the morning or extremely late at night, your pick."

Lucius tried not to gape. The timing was perfect, too perfect...

"Griphook," Narcissa said tentatively. She had never called the goblins by their names before, and so wasn't sure if it
was considered polite or impolitely personal. "We don't understand what's going on."

Griphook gave her a toothy smile. "Then I am doing my job correctly." he said cryptically. "Allow me to enlighten you. You
had submitted a request for Albus Dumbledore to access your vaults, correct? But this request was denied. This could
mean one of two things. Either, we made a mistake or you are not the head of the Black family, and I assure you it was
not the former."

Silence reigned as the both Malfoys sat digesting this information.

"But there is only one lineage!" Lucius protested eventually. "I have looked at the Black family tree and have ascertained
that Altair can't possibly be the sole heir. If anything, the heir would be Sirius Black, but he was disowned ages ago."

"Then what could this mean?" Griphook wondered with glee. "If not you then who? You have already learned that Altair is
the one in control of the ancestral vaults."

"But it isn't possible for Altair—the man has already been pronounced dead!" Narcissa said.

"Ahh, but not everything works in ways of wizard documents and signatures, Mrs. Malfoy. The situation is complicated, I
assure you, but well worth the entertainment." Griphook lectured as if to two small children. "You think we goblins do not
have allegiances. We have allegiances to those who are loyal to us. Just think, by the end of this war, I shall have the
sword of Godric Gryffindor hanging in our halls once more. The Light has greatly wronged us by stripping us of our
rights, but we don't pretend that the Dark will treat us any better. Therefore, we make little connections. Smaller ones. We
work between the workings. Goblin law is not the same as Human law."

"So who is this heir?" Lucius pressed. "And how?"

Griphook's eyes gleamed with uncontained excitement. "I cannot tell you who, for I have sworn an oath never to reveal
that fact. But I think you are on the right track with How. Think: Is there someone or something which connects Altair,
Sirius, and perhaps even yourself? Think of the family tree. Think of the lines..."

Lucius shut his eyes, trying to recall the Black Family Tree at Grimmauld Place. Yes, there was Altair, but was there a
shoot off of his name? Where was Hasan? Were they even blood relatives? And Sirius? He was childless! The only
possible relation he had was his godson Harry Potter, and the boy was bloody missing! Was that a dead end or the
answer? And how did that even connect to him? He had Draco...a missing past with Altair...

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor?" Narcissa questioned sharply. "But isn't that in the headmaster's possession? Do you
mean to say that the Headmaster has b ought your loyalties?"

"Do not jump to so hasty a conclusion." Griphook said heatedly. "I am loyal to the messenger not the keeper."

...the sword of Gryffindor...the sword...the dagger. Lucius's eyes snapped open. The Malfoy family dagger...Hasan.

"The Head of the Black family is Hasan Castell!" Lucius exclaimed suddenly.

Narcissa gaped at him. "Surely not that little boy! He's but Draco's age!"

"Ah, but Goblin law, Mrs. Malfoy!" Griphook said, smiling proudly. "Altair's son, backed by an unconsummated adoption
proposal by your family...need I say more?" Griphook asked. "It's complicated indeed, but since he is still a minor, Altair
has seen fit to take over his finances. However it is important to note that there are no age restrictions to who maintains
power over ancestral vaults."

"DRACO!" Narcissa gasped at once, as if a sudden realization had hit her literally in the chest. "Have we thrown away his
only inheritance?" If Hasan was Lord Black, it meant that he trumped over Draco for the Lordship...her thought was that
Hasan had also claimed the inheritance set aside for Draco.

"I repeat, do not jump to hasty conclusions! You only worry yourself, Mrs. Malfoy. Not only is the adoption ceremony not
complete, but because it is initiated through the dagger, it is a connection of necessity and safety as opposed to a
continuation of a line. In other words, Draco, your biological son, will assume the mantle of Lord Malfoy, not Hasan.
Hasan will, however, benefit politically from having your family associated with him. In case of emergency, you would also
be solely responsible for his welfare. Like I said, in Human Law, Altair Castell is dead. If something were to happen, you
would be for all intents and purposes his caretaker. Yet, in Goblin Law, the rights transfer to the young Castell.
Fascinating, yes?"

Lucius pressed a hand to his forehead. This was all so confusing- Altair was acting on behalf of Hasan who was not
blood-related to either Lucius or Altair...but wouldn't Harry Potter, head of the Potter line and godson of Sirius Black have
just as much weight riding on him? Why was the icon being ignored? Was it for the fact that Harry Potter was truly dead?

"So why deny Albus access to the vaults and not us?" Narcissa enquired. "They belong to Hasan now, do they not?"

Griphook grinned, "Technically, you do not have access to all the vaults. There is one which is only accessible to the
Castell family. Vault 7765. What's in it? I can't say. Do I know what's in it? Not at all."

"What I don't understand," Lucius began picking up steam, "is why we're disregarding Harry Potter in all of this. We
speak of Altair because he's relevant to this mess, but Sirius Black was asked by Albus to send in his own request as
well. If anything, this indicates that Black comes immediately after us in terms of rank. If I am not Lord Black, if Draco is in
the Goblin's eyes usurped by Hasan, and if Sirius Black is not Lord Black, then wouldn't the progression naturally go to
Harry Potter? Not Hasan Castell?"

"Good deduction skills, Mr. Malfoy." Griphook said tonelessly, "But I have already told you that Hasan Castell is Lord
Black."

"But you do not deny that Harry Potter would be the natural heir?"

"Deny? No." Griphook said at last. "But I am curious as to why you still look like you're thinking about it. Are all humans so
funny as to search for answers when the answer has already been given?"

Narcissa shot the goblin a glare. She didn't like the condescension with which he spoke to her and her husband.

"I don't mean offense," the goblin continued as if sensing her seething attitude, (he had practice from dealing with
dragons), "I am just remarking a quirk of the human race. But suit yourself. If you must have something to think about,
think about this: what do Hasan Castell and Harry Potter have in common? Come back when you have the answer."

.oOo.

Defense Against the Dark Arts class ended uneventfully with Barty lecturing them on the importance of public
appearance. Not that Hasan was extremely egotistical, but he couldn't help but think the entire lecture was about him. It
froze him to the core to entertain the idea that Barty Crouch Junior knew who he was! All this crap about deceptive
appearances, spells, charms, potions, or otherwise- such as simply having two different personalities- felt horribly
mocking. Barty was dangling his own hidden identity in front of the unsuspecting class just as much as he was taunting
Hasan about his. Of course the man had to be thinking of Hasan, right? Especially when he glared at the jade-eyed boy
from time to time, although that very well could have been from the knowledge that Hasan had robbed him of his
snake...regardless, Hasan was not very happy as he left the class for Care of Magical Creatures. He trusted Snape to
keep him safe for the time being, but what would happen when Barty decided to strike? Snape had to keep up his
appearance too. As Hasan trudged down to the field, he vaguely noticed that Draco had not come with him...

.oOo.

Defense Against the Dark Arts class ended uneventfully with Barty lecturing them on the importance of public
appearance. Not that Draco was extremely egotistical, but he couldn't help but think the entire lecture was about him.
Draco glared at the man throughout the entire period, angry because the man was needlessly endangering them both
for a good laugh. The man's eyes were twinkling with Dumbledore-like creepiness, so much so that Draco wondered
why Barty didn't other bursting out in full-blown laughter. It would have been just as subtle.
As the rest of the class filtered out, Barty nonchalantly stepped in front of his desk, casting a shadow over him.

"That was foolish." Barty remarked gruffly when it was only the two of them left in the room.

Draco snorted, not appreciating his interference at all. "Me? You practically gave yourself away with that little speech."

"And who would suspect?" Barty challenged, "Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy, suspected Death Eater spawn, can't take his
eyes off his Defense instructor. One would think you were plotting the great Mad-Eye Moody's demise, or worse, using
his information in your latest scheme."

"Well aren't I?" Draco replied forcefully, shoving his books none too gently in his bag.

"Yes, I suppose you are." Barty admitted somehow amused, "but not very well. I give you one task, boy, to blend in, and all
I see is unease amongst the entire Slytherin house. I don't suppose you actually made progress in your task?"

Draco glared at him. Moody's electric blue eye glared back.

"This isn't a joke, boy! I have gathered from tidbits dropped around the staff room that Dumbledore is taking a trip out of
the castle within the week and do you know what that means? Do you? That means we're taking a little trip ourselves to
the Dark Lord! And if you don't have anything useful to give him then we better both start digging our graves!"

The boy paled drastically as Barty gave him a rough shake. "Do you understand me? This whole class I have tried to
pound into your brain that the most dangerous enemies are the ones seen and ignored! You, boy, are being seen and
watched and the disharmony within your house only adds to that. Heed my advice because whether you like it or not your
reputation will be the deciding factor in your fate. Blend in. Get information. Deliver it."

Draco's expression became stony. "I don't take orders from you!" he spat.

"Why you little-!" Barty flung his wand between them just as an owl bolted into the room. Barty lowered his wand. "We'll
have to do this again sometime, but right now your Aunt Bellatrix needs to see you."

"What-?" Draco asked, completely taken aback. What did Bellatrix have to do with anything. As if seeing the confusion on
his face Barty explained.

"She's been on my case to allow you to see her. Something about support for your first task."

"My Aunt Bella is here? At HOGWARTS?" Draco cried.

"No, you daft boy! We're going to the forbidden forest," Barty growled, "Now hurry up before your aunt hexes me for being
late."

It took approximately ten minutes for the two to stroll unnoticed out of the castle. They almost had a run-in with Filch, but a
quick notice-me-not charm took care of that. Draco wasn't sure about this Barty person anymore. One second he was
yelling at Draco for being too anti-social, the next they were sneaking out of the school like old chums. He supposed they
were technically on the same side of the war now, but he was beginning to understand that sometimes sides of war and
the people in the war were two different things.

They arrived out of breath a half-mile into the forbidden forest, far enough from the Care of Magical Creatures class that
Sirius Black's booming voice couldn't be heard. Bellatrix was waiting for them, posed against a tree with a dazzling smile
on her face.

"My baby nephew!" she crooned, smothering Draco in a perfume-laced hug. "Oh! How I missed you!...Barty," she greeted
her ex-cell-neighbor. "What took so long?"

"We were having a chat." Barty supplied before Draco could say anything.

"About the meeting I presume."

"Yeah." Draco said uncomfortably.

"How exciting!" Bellatrix continued. "I remember my first task! He was so pleased with me I couldn't stop hexing people
for a week!"

Draco frowned. "Don't take this the wrong way, but Aunt Bella, what are you doing here? Aren't there wards? What if you're
caught?"
"Wards? Only at the edge of the forest." Bellatrix explained with a twirl of her black hair. "And they're weaker now anyway to
allow for long distance apparition closer to the school. I hear Dumbledore has been taking a few trips outside the
castle."

"That's what I said," Barty snorted.

"And as to why I'm here? I thought that would be obvious, Draco. I'm here to see you of course! Your mother and father
would have wanted to before your first meeting with the Dark Lord, but as they're tied up in Gringotts business I have
come in their stead...Although, they don't know that." she added as an afterthought. "So how has your task been going?
Have you made good progress? Oooh, he'll be pleased to hear that."

"I believe it's going well." Draco reported with an arrogant air.

"Well? The boy has effectively ostracized his friends, cutting off any important information!" Barty cut in irritated.

"I'm sure that won't be hard to fix. Buy them some sweets for the poor babies." Bella said sweetly. "Besides, people can't
tell you half as much as good observation will."

"There's nothing to fix!" Draco protested, "Just because you're at the school Professor Moody doesn't mean you see
everything."

"Really? Try me?" and Moody's magical eye buzzed in challenge.

Draco was about to open his mouth to shout something- anything- to make the man shut up, but luckily Bellatrix
interrupted.

"You're an all-around lucky little boy." Bellatrix remarked, "You know you were born at just the right time. Imagine if your
task goes well. The Dark Lord will return to his full and former glory and you will rise with him!"

"His resurrection is almost complete?" Barty exclaimed in surprise. Being at Hogwarts had caused him to lag in
Voldemort's status updates.

"Yes! Our Lord needs only a few more essential ingredients and his body will be remade!" Bellatrix smiled. "Blood of a
servant, blood of an enemy, bone of a father...it will be glorious! And you, Draco, you will be the pride of our whole family.
Can you imagine it? All the glory? His resurrection will mark the new age of His regime. We only have to be patient."

Bellatrix laughed to the sky as Barty cackled against a tree. But Draco wasn't seeing how horrible they looked or how
insane they acted. All Draco could see was the power of a fully resurrected Dark Lord with himself as a member of the
new inner circle. He could imagine being the pride of his mother and father, the dignified and righteous heir of the Malfoy
family. Did his stomach still churn? Did he have any doubts?

Only those that were mixed with illusions.

.oOo.

Minerva McGonagall's face darkened as Filius recounted the events of the last Dueling Club. The two were alone in the
staff room and a warm fire was burning in the hearth.

"It was unbelievable. I would never have expected it from a Slytherin!"

"Aren't Miss Lovegood and Mr. Castell close friends, though?" Minerva questioned. "Not that Slytherins can't feel, but they
are notorious for their sense of House Loyalty."

"Yes, I suppose," Flitwick said, too excited about the event to have actually considered what she said. "It was just a shock
was all. It seemed too Gryffindorish if you ask me."

Minerva frowned. A Slytherin acting as a Gryffindor? Then where did that leave Neville?

"And Neville?" she asked. "He actually aimed for Miss Lovegood?"

Flitwick seemed to know where she was going and sighed. "In Mr. Longbottom's defense, it was a game of the last
survivor."

"Last man standing is how the muggles say it."

"Yes, that. Well, he was only playing the game."

"But morally, don't you think there is something wrong with the way he attacked an innocent bystander instead of the
enemy in front of his face?"

"Minerva, morally I would have to agree with you. I don't understand it really." Flitwick whispered, "When Neville was a first
year, he was always so shy in my class. Hardly speaking, you know. But then all this boy-who-lived business and...he's
changed."

"I couldn't agree with you more." Minerva said triumphantly. "How was Moody's reaction, if I may ask?"

Flitwick thought back to the night of the dueling club. "Disappointed almost. You know how Moody always works front to
back. I don't think he appreciated the Slytherin-like way Neville tried to eliminate Miss Lovegood."

"Do you think that Neville knew how Hasan would react?"

"Well, they were friends, Neville and Hasan...they were all found outside the girls' bathroom last year...come to think of it I
don't even think I saw young Mr. Malfoy at the club!"

"You mean he was left alone for an entire night?" Minerva asked sharply. "The entire school was practically at the club!"

"The club is not mandatory." Flitwick said defensively, "And I hope you are not letting House prejudices get in the way of
your judgment."

Minerva sniffed. "Of course not. I'm only saying that it's suspicious. And I do hope that Albus will stop meddling in the
affairs of others. I know for a fact that Augusta would never raise her son to pick on the weak."

"Like I said," Flitwick said, "there we agree."

.oOo.

Dinner, as it was oft to do, came rolling around again at 6pm sharp. Hasan sat down, still in the throes of speculation, for
he had noticed that Draco had mysteriously disappeared before Care of Magical Creatures. What could have taken him
so long if not a nice chat with Barty Crouch Jr. the Death Eater? Well, it wasn't as if Draco had tried to kill him...yet, and
"Moody" couldn't do much now because it was still in the middle of the school year. Right? Hasan sighed as the food
magically popped onto the table.

"Hey, Hasan. You look a little down." Tracey said. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh? What? Yeah..." Hasan said. "Sorry, I was lost in thought." the jade eyed boy looked down at his lap a moment before
making eye contact with the Slytherin girl. "How are you doing, Tracey?"

Though not used to Hasan being particularly rude, she was pleasantly surprised that he had enquired after her.

"I'm doing good, I think. I just have this Charms Test that's literally killing me right now!"

"I know, right?" Daphne agreed, suddenly appearing at Hasan's side. "Ah, mashed potatoes, my favorite! Hey, Hasan, do
you know where Neville went to? I borrowed a quill from him and I was going to give it back, but then he went off with
Ginny somewhere."

"Neville?" Hasan asked startled. He hadn't even talked to the boy since the beginning of school really...

"Yeah, aren't you guys friends?" Daphne asked. "Oh, never mind I see him...and Ginny's with him too. Give me a second."

As Daphne went to return Neville's quill, Hasan was left wondering if Neville really was a friend, because if Neville wasn't
a friend and Draco wasn't a friend, then was Hasan friendless? He had Luna, Tracey, Daphne, Hermione,...but there was
something significant about Neville and Draco after the Chamber incident. (To be fair, Luna was there too, but the
experience had improved their relationship instead of damaging it so he wasn't really focused on her.)

It was Draco that had suddenly changed- not that it was his fault. And Neville? Hasan whole-heartedly blamed
Dumbledore for his sickening metamorphosis. And what about Hasan? Wasn't he greatly changed after learning about
what Altair had done to him?

And what did this mean? Were their bodies not their own? Were they simply little puppets, little impressionable lives
formed by a more powerful generation?

"Hasan, you look upset again." Tracey said with a frown. "What's on your mind?"
Hasan was about to say nothing, because really he didn't feel like talking about it, when he noticed Draco enter the Great
Hall with Theo and Hermione. Hasan felt something akin to jealousy bubble in his stomach, because how could
Hermione- someone so different- be allowed to walk (nearly) side-by-side with Draco when he couldn't?

"Draco's here." he mumbled quietly as he loaded his plate. Luckily, Tracey was too distracted by the newcomers to press
on with her therapy session.

Soon, Hermione, Theo, Draco, Daphne, Tracey, and Hasan were packed into the Slytherin table. But what was odd was
that Draco was the one doing most of the talking.

"How are you doing?...That Charms Test, huh?...Me too!..."

It was so different from the previous version of Malfoy that Hasan had to do a double take. Why was he being so... social
all of a sudden? Hasan nearly jumped in his seat when his name was called.

"Hasan?

"-Yeah?"

"I was just wondering if you'd like to do with Potions Project with me." Draco looked at him imploringly, not trace of malice
in his eyes.

"...but Snape just mentioned it! It isn't due till the end of the year!" Daphne exclaimed.

Draco gave Hasan a charming smile as he addressed her. "But a little extra research never hurt anyone."

Though he didn't directly call Hermione out, the girl perked up and readily agreed with him.

"Yeah, Hasan. That'll get your mind off things." Tracey said soothingly.

"Hmm...Yeah, why not?" Hasan said with a smile, though he was truly reluctant. It was so unfair of Draco to involve all of
his friends in this. Oh, the power of peer pressure!

"What potion did you have in mind?" Hasan pressed on nonchalantly.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm sure we'll think of something." Draco said with a smile. "Wow! I haven't felt this carefree in a long
time. I guess now is as good as a time as any to apologize for being such an arse lately." He gave them all very seriously
looks.

"Never thought I'd say it, but it's good to have you back Malfoy." Daphne said teasingly.

Hasan frowned at his plate. Suddenly, a loud ringing echoed throughout the room, causing everyone to look up at the
staff table. Dumbledore stood erect in all his gloriousness, goblet of pumpkin juice in hand, with his other holding an
oddly bent spoon.

"Excuse me, but may I please have all of your attentions?" His old voice rang out clear as a bell as he held the cup and
spoon high for all to see. "Good! Now, I have a few announcements to make, but you will be back to your dinner in good
time. First," he said, eyeing the room, "I would like to announce that the first Hogsmeade weekend for third years and up
is coming soon and will be held on October 31st, so that you can enjoy Wizarding culture before the Halloween Feast! I
request that all permission slips be turned in before October 20th to your Head of House. Please do not worry about
security for Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin will act as your chaperones."

So, a Death Eater and a werewolf? Hasan thought dubiously. Not that he didn't like Lupin, but Dumbledore's sense of
security and their sense of security was probably very different.

"Now as for the second order of business," Dumbledore began with his signature twinkle in his eye. "It has been
decided by our staff members that Hogwarts will again host its annual Yule Ball to kick off the Winter Holidays!"

"Yule Ball?

"Yule Ball?"

"Yule Ball!"

"What's a Yule Ball?"

The murmurs were deafening. At just a hint of celebration, most of the student body began to talk uncontrollably, causing
Minerva McGonagall to smile triumphantly. It was her idea, after all, that the school needed some cheering after two
school emergencies.

"Quiet!" Albus shouted, "I know it's very exciting for many of you, but it may be daunting for the rest of us. If anyone is
interested, a week before the Ball Professor McGonagall will be instructing a dance workshop. Dates or partners are not
required, although encouraged to create bonds within the school. Thank you."

As soon as the old wizard sat back down with his funny spoon and silly goblet, the Great Hall exploded into sound once
more.

"A Yule Ball!" Daphne exclaimed excitedly. "Oh! I remember my mother used to love those!"

"It'll be so fun!" Tracey added. "I don't know why they ever stopped."

"I'll have to get a date, you know." Daphne continued. "And a dress..."

Across the hall, Ginny could be heard shouting "OH NEVILLE!" Hasan almost felt sorry for the boy. But he was a little
more concerned with his own matters. He guessed he had to ask Luna by propriety, but what if she rejected him? It
wasn't bloody likely, but what if? Luna was a pretty girl and if boys felt pressured to ask out a girl, well then, she was a
girl, wasn't she?

Hasan determined to ask her then and there, but a quick scan of the room revealed that Luna was nowhere in sight...Not
for the first time, something in his gut told him something was wrong. Without really thinking about it, he stood up and
fled.

.oOo.

The grounds outside were spotless and brittle. The cold causing the green little blades of grass to crunch under foot. It
wasn't even November, yet the cold at night was undeniable. Why Hasan decided it would be a good idea to leave
without a cloak, he had no idea. Why he thought Luna was outside now, when he had just seen her in Divination, he
didn't know. What he did know was that Luna had at one point mentioned her intention to go out in the forest in her
Animagus form, and if she had decided to do so before dinner and then been suddenly attacked, well it wasn't such a
farfetched idea anymore.

"Luna?" he called. "Luna!" This was asinine! She couldn't hear him out here! "LUNA! LUNA IT'S HASAN!"

Merlin, why was it so bloody cold? He began shivering, wrapping his sparse wizards robes around himself. "LUNA!"

Just when he was about to turn back (just for a jacket, of course), he spotted a pale figure in the distance. Hasan
squinted and as the figure approached, its ghostly luminance in stark contrast to the darkness outside. This was not
safe. At all. Hasan gripped his wand tighter and curled it to his body. His shivers became jerks. He bit his lip. This was
not looking so good. If that was the Dark Lord...or even a Death Eater...an enchanted being? A ghost? He was really ill
prepared to take something down right now, even if he had all of Altair's training. If something were to go wrong, who
would find him in the morning?

Mentally, he berated himself for not telling anyone where he was going. Shit! Shit! Shit!

"Luna?" he called again, softly this time. If that figure truly was Luna, then why wasn't she responding? Still, it seemed as
if it were approaching...Hasan began to back up, but then, that didn't make any sense. How was he to see what it was if
he kept retreating? Stealing his courage, he crept forward, slowly as to not cause a disturbance. When it was near
enough, he whispered, "Lumos!" In an instant, her whole face lit up. The slight features, the interesting earrings which
caught the light. "Oh, Luna! Thank goodness!"

His heart skipped a beat as he bounded towards her, not really questioning why she wasn't responding. As he put his
arms around her freezing form, her heard- barely audible- her mumbling...something. He took his head from her
shoulder and looked at her straight in the eye. She appeared to have a glaze over look, mouth moving, mumbling.
Muttering what? Her unfocused gaze lead Hasan to believe the Inspiration had taken her again, so he felt safe enough to
put his ear nearer.

"Returning right, half-love can restore what pain has taken. A half-path forms at midnight on the seventh moon. Yet
immobile, many halves fail to reach a whole. The one...who knows...reaches a crossroads." Luna whispered each word
carefully, like little chicks laid safely in a nest. Hasan didn't know what to make of it.

"Luna? Luna?" he shook her gently, knowing that he couldn't drag her back to the castle in this state. "Luna? Can you
wake up? Luna...I'm really cold!"

He shook her again before sighing. This could take forever! Resolving to lead her back to the castle and maybe sneak
her down to Snape's office, he grabbed her hand and began the trudge. But no sooner had he reached the castle doors,
then the doors had flung open. Hasan, mouth agape, could only stare as none other than Severus Snape himself came
rushing out of the building.

"Hasan!" the man breathed. "Miss Lovegood?"

"Severus, she's in a trance, we need to get her back to your-" Hasan stopped as he felt a slight tugging on his arm.

"Hasan? Oh, hm. What a nice dream! Hello Professor Snape!"

Hasan's face flamed as he imagined what the scene must look like to his professor.

"Get inside!" Snape yelled. "Now, it's freezing cold and neither of you had any sense to bring a cloak!"

Hasan let a smile crawl over his face. Was that worry he detected?

"What's happening, Hasan?" Luna asked. "When did you and the professor get here?"

"Just now. I'll explain later, okay Luna?"

The girl nodded as the three hastily retreated to the dungeons.

.oOo.

"I was out there because I realized Luna wasn't at dinner." Hasan answered.

"Then pray, Miss Lovegood, why were you out there?" Severus asked exasperatedly.

"I was looking for Shadow!" Luna replied with a smile. "He's a thestral who I talk with, but then the Inspiration must have
got me..."

Inspir-? What? Severus turned sharply towards the boy, currently sipping hot chocolate on his couch. "What is she talking
about, Mr. Castell?"

"Hasan."

"Fine, Hasan." Severus rolled his eyes. "What is this Inspiration? And Shadow?"

"Her Animagus is a horse, remember?" Hasan said. Severus gave him a look which said 'How the b loody hell was I
supposed to get that from her nonsense?'

"And the Inspiration?"

Hasan glanced uneasily at Luna. "I'm not sure how to describe it." Hasan began.

"Well, professor, it's sort of like visions." Luna chimed in. "But I'm not a seer. See, it's like I get hints from the universe. A
little tugging her and there, and when it's over I can't fully remember anything, or at least I'm not sure what I was
supposed to learn from it."

Severus' lips pressed into a frown. So this was why Hasan gravitated towards the innocent and seemingly normal girl. It
was because she wasn't really normal. And again, Severus wondered why the universe hated him. He was never going
to rest again with these two together.

"I see. Did you know that you were forb idden to go into the forb idden forest?"

"But Professor Moody does it all the time!" Luna protested.

"He- what?" Severus hissed.

"Yes, today Shadow told me that a strange woman with darkness around her came trampling through the woods to meet
with him and some boy."

"Moody..." Hasan breathed, setting down his mug. "What could he have been doing? And who was the boy?" he sent a
pointed look Severus' way, knowing that they both knew who the boy was.
Severus couldn't take it. "Fine, you can continue to go to the forest as you have been, but if you get caught by any other
staff member there is little I can do. You must also inform me whenever you decide to take an excursion, and do try to
avoid unseemly hours. Contrary to public opinion I do need sleep."

"Thank you!" Luna grinned, skipping out of the room.

Hasan said nothing. He locked eyes with Severus and opened his mouth.

"You won't tell anyone about Luna's condition, will you?"

"Which one?" Snape asked.

"Both, but I mean her Inspiration."

"I won't unless necessary." Snape said. "I swear it."

Hasan nodded. "Thank you."

A/N: What's going on at Gringott's? Were you expecting Bellatrix to come? Will Voldy recover his good looks? Yule Ball?
Did you hear Yule Ball? How about that Hogsmeade trip? And what's up with Luna Lovegood?

Thanks for the TEN people who deigned to leave me a review...

geetac, history, pinks99 Remvis, medward, Nagilover4ever, Araytigre, EndlessChains, JPElles & Duellist

VOTE:

In the Battle of Hogwarts, Snape

a) lives

b) dies

Next up:

Chapter 33: Another Round

Slytherin's Locket is found! The students go to Hogsmeade! And Draco sees Hasan's patronus...Excited? You should b e!
I had the b est time writing ab out Neville getting b eat up!
*Chapter 33*: Another Round
A/N: I am dead. Soooo dead. It's been what, three days of school, and already under mountains of homework (damn
you calculus). Anyway, I thought I'd post an update for you all because you guys are amazing!

Thanks to:

Starz101: Thanks for voting!

Eliphas-Chaos: Thanks for your honest reaction

Separ: Thank you!

medward: He definitely did! I feel like the goblins will be minor though

Lighted Candle: Thanks for the review!

EndlessChains: Thanks, as always, for your lovely review!

Pheonixs1518: I know, right? Team Snape!

Dee: Thank you!

stonegnome1: I agree! Snape is awesome!

BlackRyuji: yeah, Hasan's kind of in the dark about a lot. I go over the horcrux list when it becomes more important so no
need to take notes or worry!

Nightcrawlerfw: Thanks for the vote!

Bronze Leaf: Thank you! I like to curse a lot in stories because I don't in real life and I find it unbelievably humorous! I
know some authors adamantly hate swearing in stories like my friend, Reflected Shadows, but hey, to each his own.
Lucius swearing is particularly fun for me to write!

Silent Jack: Thank you!

Maiannaise: Thanks! He is awesome sauce!

Remvis: Thank you! The Malfoys are getting there...

Nagilover4ever: Thanks so much for the lovely review!

JPElles: Yeah! Thank you!

Araytigre: Thank you! Luna's Inspiration will be important towards a sub plot I have going near the end.

Wulffe: Thanks!

Frost Merry Darkness Luver: Thanks for the vote!

AND FINALLY:

Thank you Jostanos: Perhaps...Perhaps not. Who can really say?

This is probably one of my most favorite chapters. I beg you, please review! I want to know if you liked it as much as I
did!

LET'S REACH 800! :D

"As the devil spoke we spilled out on the floor,

And the pieces broke and the people wanted more,

And the rugged wheel is turning another round"

 - Dorian by Agnes Obel

(fun fact: I just finished reading The Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde!)

Chapter 33: Another Round

Hasan fingered the smooth edge of the cracked glass. The Black Family Mirrors. Severus had sent one to him by an
anonymous owl during breakfast to avoid unwanted suspicion. It had a message too saying that the other mirrors had
been sent to Altair. He wasn't yet entirely sure why his father needed the mirrors so badly. Who did he need to
correspond to that he couldn't with an owl or with the network floo? Maybe it was because the mirrors were secret- not
something someone would suspect as being a communication device. Maybe because it was instantaneous?

Perhaps it was not so much of mistrust as it was of curiosity. Who was it that Altair communicated with? And why was it
so imperative that he need such a reliable and fast mode of communication?

Hasan set the mirror on his bed as he returned to the task at hand: Hogsmeade. Halloween was to be the first
Hogsmeade weekend for Hasan, but before he could even think of joining his friends he needed to have Altair's
permission first. Knowing he was Altair's Pensieve made him hesitant in asking for this liberty. Hogsmeade was known
to host some shady characters, it was away from the protection of the school, and a Death Eater was to be their
chaperone. Granted, Altair did not know this last one, but Hasan was still unsure if he wanted to hear the answer. If Altair
denied him, then it would be another stab in the gut. It would be Altair lying to him again, saying he couldn't do something
because of this or that, when really it was because Hasan was too valuable as a container to lose! He set his quill to
paper:

Dear (his hand hovered. Altair, he was about to write. But he always called him Dad. Was Father too formal?) Dad,

The Headmaster forgot to send Hogsmeade permission forms to us over the Summer Hols. He says that if we get written
permission from our parents we can show it to our Head of House and still b e allowed to go. I know you're very
concerned ab out privacy, b ut you can just owl Professor Snape, right? Please think ab out it! All my friends will b e going
and there will b e chaperones!

-Hasan

Hasan read it over a few times, wondering if perhaps he didn't sound a bit whiny in some places. He really wanted to go-
that wasn't a lie; and he feared the implications of rejection. Honestly, Altair probably wouldn't read too much into it. It took
him how long to figure out Hasan was an Animagus?

Hasan sent the letter that night. He received a response the next morning: I've contacted Severus. Be Safe.

.oOo.

The sky outside was pitch black, soul swirling black like millions of dementor cloaks swirling around and around. Neville
shivered as he sat in the chair opposite the headmaster.

"-We will travel there in two weeks' time." Albus declared in a final sort of way. "It will not be pleasant. Nor will it be easy. I
imagine it will test us both to our very limits. However, it needs to be done. This is war. And I will not have you go up
against it alone."

"But, Albus..." Neville protested weakly, "Isn- Woul- That is to say, am I really the best candidate? Professor Moody is a
trained Auror. Surely he would be able to go with you-"

But Dumbledore was already shaking his head. "Neville," he sighed in a grandfatherly way, "the knowledge that has
been shared in this room is enough to put both you and me on the top of Voldemort's hit list. It is not to be thought of
lightly. If we think of what could have been, what could be, why- why not add the whole Auror department to the list. The
Ministry has prepared for Dark magical attacks, have they not? They have a department of Wizard officers, trained in
combat, for wars! And yet I have not whispered even a hint of the truth. It is with trust and great faith that I am inviting you
now, Neville, to accompany me in destroying Voldemort once and for all."

Neville swallowed. He had nothing to say to that. Yes, he knew that he should be honored to destroy a part of Voldemort's
soul, but did that mean he was delighted at the prospect of travelling to some secret- most likely cursed- cave where
Voldemort spent his miserable childhood vacations? Not in the least. It wasn't even that cold, yet Neville was frozen to the
bone. If he were perfectly frank with himself, he was scared shitless.

"Professor, this...this cave that you've discovered. How do you even know that this is the right cave? Or that the horcrux is
still there? How do you know he hasn't moved it? Or that maybe it was never there in the first place?" Neville desperately
grasped at straws, hoping to find purchase. He liked being with the headmaster. He liked the attention. He liked going on
privileged trips. But not like this. This seemed like a ticket straight to Death.

"Neville, there is always a chance that the horcrux is not located within the cave, but I have already scouted out the
location his orphanage caretakers have indicated. I can sense the Dark Magic pulsating from its depths. There is a
chance that a powerful dark magical artifact is not located within the heavily warded cave, but there is also a chance that
Voldemort is just a misunderstood man. We cannot afford to take this chance! Neville, this is war. If I go alone, I will most
surely die and the war will be lost. You are the only one with this knowledge that I trust to accompany me. In a way, you
have the responsibility, the duty, to aid the war efforts."

Neville sunk lower in his seat. He had to do this. It was for the honor of the Longbottom family. For the House of Godric
Gryffindor...

"I-What time?"

Dumbledore relaxed back in his seat. He had won this small thing at least. As Neville dismissed himself with a
mumbled good-bye, Dumbledore turned his head towards the large glass window in his office. The black swirled,
though nothing could be discerned.

If the locket was not within the Malfoy vault, then surely it had to be within this cave. He mind drifted to the incident with the
ring...the footprints in the dust of the Gaunt House. It had crossed his mind before. Was there another hunting for
Horcruxes as well? And had he or she reached the locket too already?

Not for the first time, Dumbledore wondered if it was all for naught. But just as he was about to retire for the night, a star
sparked to life in the sky. A beacon of hope for the darkness of the world. That was how he liked to imagine himself...

.oOo.

Neville awoke with a splitting headache. He had this awful dream that he had agreed to go on a life gambling field trip
with his happy-go-lucky lunatic of a headmaster. Then he realized it was not a dream, and his headache got a thousand
times worse.

"What's wrong, sweetums?" Ginny cooed as Neville stumbled tiredly into the common room, head against hand. "Did
you have a good night's sleep?"

"You look awful, mate!" Ron exclaimed most helpfully from the couch. Lavender, curled against his side, giggled as she
slapped Ron's knee. Hermione gazed on disdainfully.

"I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back to sleep." Neville replied lamely. "What do we have first? I'm
surprised we aren't all late."

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend, silly! We're going to Hogsmeade!" Ginny laughed as she latched onto Neville's arm.

"Really? Thank Merlin!" Neville smiled. "I forgot to do my Potions' homework!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Now that everyone's here, can we please go down to breakfast now? I'm starving!"

"For a side of Theodore," Lavender snorted quietly into Ron's ear (though everyone could hear.)

"Well he does taste rather nice." Hermione quipped with a Slytherin air, leaving everyone gobsmacked in her wake. So it
was with a rather smug look that Hermione entered the Great Hall that morning and plopped herself down unabashedly
at the Slytherin table.

Only a smattering of kids was still at breakfast, as many had made a special point to eat early and then bolt off to
Hogsmeade. For Halloween, the Great Hall was decorated in orange and black with real bats flitting around the ceiling. It
was not fully decorated yet- the full effect was saved for the Halloween feast set for that night- but Dobby, who had lead
the decoration committee, was quite pleased with it if anyone deigned to ask him.

At the Slytherin table sat Theo, Draco, Tracey, Daphne, and Hasan, but it appeared that the boys were in a sort of coma.
After a few seconds at the table, Hermione could see why.

"I'm looking for a dress with long sleeves-"

"-like a princess-"
"-something orange?"

"-no. green-"

"-bright!"

"-something turquoise-"

"I have a tight budget-"

"No you don't!"

"-puffy?"

"-mermaid style-"

"-very muggle!-"

"-eww that's what brides wear?"

"-I think I'll set it with powder-"

"-look old- like a ghost-"

"-red lips"

"too bold?"

"kissing, leaves evidence-"

"-not talking about biting, right?"

Hermione was almost sure she zoned out of three fourths of the conversation. It wasn't that she was tomboy, or even that
she was out of tune with her feminine side but these Slytherin girls talked fashion like she talked ancient runes. It was
almost unreal. She turned to Theo with a sly smile.

"You'll never believe what I told the Gryffindors today..."

.oOo.

Draco was supposed to play the part of friend now, but all he could do was stare at Hasan. How was he to broach the
subject of anything? The girls chattered in the background as each boy stabbed his respective breakfast disdainfully.

"So..." Draco began, "I suppose the girls want to go dress shopping today..."

Hasan shrugged.

"Aren't you going with your girlfriend, Loon- Luna?" Draco asked tentatively.

"She's not a third year," Hasan told him, deadpanned.

"So you'll be looking for her?" Draco tried.

Hasan looked directly into Draco's eyes. What was he playing at? Was he really ready to fix this relationship?

"Luna said that she was making her own dress. She's quite skilled or so I've heard." Hasan said.

Tracey upon hearing this, let out a wail. "You know we can buy her a dress, right? She doesn't need to go through making
one from scratch!"

"Yeah, it'll just be a loan! She can pay us back in bits! Or just borrow one of ours!" Daphne chimed in.

Hasan looked flabbergasted. They were never this enthusiastic when talking about Herbology, but suddenly they just
couldn't contain themselves.

"Well I for one think it rather sweet that Luna wants to do something herself," Hermione said.
The Slytherin girls shrugged. Making things was nice, but what was nicer than spending a few galleons?

"Draco, you're taking me, right?" Tracey asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Well, when you put it like that," he laughed. "No, I already told father I would so-"

"Real romantic, Dray," Tracey pouted playfully. "And how about you Daphne? Guys, I've been trying to get her to spill the
beans for weeks, but she hasn't budged!"

Daphne let out an awkward laugh. "Sorry, but there's really nothing to tell."

"So who are you going with?"

"No one."

"Liar!" Tracey laughed. "Well, since Luna won't be coming to Hogsmeade and Daphne here refuses to cooperate, I think
that Hasan can accompany her as her pseudo-date for dress shopping. Aren't you excited, Hasan?"

"Overjoyed," he smiled. He met Daphne's eyes, but she flushed in embarrassment and looked away. Hasan was unsure
of what to make of it. He nonchalantly glanced up at the Head table, where Mad-Eye and Remus were indeed missing
from their posts. Snape made eye contact briefly before looking away.

Hasan was so used to battling the demons of his mind...but nothing could have prepared him for the monster called
Dress Shopping.

.oOo.

Severus Snape was not one for walking in the beauty of Nature and the wonderful bone-biting air, but necessity
compelled him. According to Luna- a most reliable source- Bellatrix had managed to meet up with both Draco and Barty
during school hours. Didn't Sirius know how to keep attendance? Apparently not.

There were many things on Severus' mind- none of them good. Why was Bellatrix making contact with Draco? Was there
a conspiracy within the ranks? Was there news the Dark Lord did not deign to tell him? Perhaps she was making a
family visit? Or maybe Draco's task had changed?

And did Draco really believe his Aunt? What side was Draco really on? He had started acting more sociable lately, albeit
awkwardly, but it was certainly a vast improvement from what was. Could this 'change of heart' be considered part of a
plot? Or was he returning to the fold. Severus doubted it where Bellatrix was involved. That deranged chit poisoned
everything he touched- one of the main reasons Severus never invited her for tea...

Snape continued on his journey into the forbidden forest, passing where Hasan had found Luna a few nights ago. He
had to give it to the boy, he was sensitive when it came to Luna's whereabouts. It was almost enough to melt Snape's
heart from the literal bitter cold. Sure, he could cast a warming spell, but there was something about being in the raw
power of nature which jolted his senses awake. He stepped deliberately, careful not to make any noise. As he ventured
even deeper into the woods, a most peculiar sound caught his attention:

A humming.

Was it possible that he was not the only one out here? Did the word "Forbidden" mean nothing to these mongrel
children? Screw Nature! Severus whipped out his wand, cast a warming and silencing charm around him, and crept
nearer with the agility of a spy. The humming became louder and louder as he approached, but just as he reached the
source of the noise, it stopped. And the forest became quiet.

"Professor, can you reach that one? I'm much too short."

Carefully, oh so carefully, Severus inched around the tree to glimpse Luna Lovegood, a basket in one hand, and a finger
pointed up to somewhere above Severus' head.

Snape would not let his surprise flit across his face. "What?" he asked sharply.

She made a gesture, indicating that she couldn't hear him, and he immediately took down the silencing wards, flushing
in embarrassment.

"What?" he repeated more calmly this time.

"There, right there above your head. It has caught the light now. Can you get it for me?"
Snape looked behind him, feeling stupid. What was there to see but trees? And oh dear, how was he supposed to find
his way back?

"I said above your head, Professor. See it?"

"What am I-?" But then he saw it- unicorn hair. Snape turned around to face her again, examining the contents of her
basket. "You are collecting unicorn hair?" he asked her steadily, knowing what use and misuse they could be put to. "For
what?"

Luna smiled, "It's a surprise." she said. "Now, can you help me?"

Severus moved slowly, delicately plucking the hair from the branch and placing it in her proffered basket. This was so
unreal. Didn't she know each piece sold for fifty galleons? Or that she could simply ask Hagrid and be done with this
tedious harvesting?

As if sensing his thoughts, Luna said, "Hagrid's cabin is locked. It has been for months now. Besides, I wouldn't want to
take any from him. He went through the effort of collecting them himself! I have to do the same."

"How...Gryffindorish. Well, in light of being lost, I think I can stand to help you for a bit."

Luna beamed at him.

"You know, you're a lot more pleasant when you're not in that stuffy dungeon." Luna remarked.

Snape huffed. "I'm still your professor, you know."

"But I'm talking to you as Hasan's friend, and as Hasan's friend myself I have to say the dungeons really take a number
on your health."

"Why thank you, Miss Lovegood," Snape said dryly, placing another hair in her basket.

"And since I am Hasan's friend, I only think it's right that we friends of Hasan stick together."

Snape nodded mindlessly. This girl was crazy if she thought the big greasy bat of the dungeons was going to be her best
friend.

"I'm serious!" Luna protested haughtily. "You know he tells you more than he tells me, right?"

"I find that hard to believe," Snape snorted.

"No, it's true," Luna said in that thoughtful way of hers. "Last year he tried to give me the diadem of Ravenclaw, but
stopped himself at last minute."

Snape stopped in his tracks. "Dia-"

"Yes, it was very nice of him to think of me," Luna sighed. "Did you know he didn't even tell me as much? He gave me
nothing, but my Inspiration worked it out months later. I don't even think he has it anymore."

"Are you quite sure it was the diadem of Ravenclaw?" Severus asked, his blood running cold and not from the weather.

"Quite sure." Luna said, looking up at him concernedly. "You know something, don't you?" she said, eyes narrowing.

Severus nodded. There really wasn't any point in lying to her. He just didn't have to tell her the whole truth. "It is a good
thing that Hasan did not give you that diadem. It's cursed." He remembered vividly the conversation he and Dumbledore
had a year ago. The Dark Lord was fascinated with the school's history. Voldemort had split his soul...

"Whew, that's a relief." Luna said, much to his surprise. "I was starting to worry he didn't like me that much."

"I don't think he likes anyone a lot," Snape said blandly.

Luna bent down to collect another silver thread. "I don't think that's true. He just hides it better than most. For example,
Draco Malfoy is tearing him apart right now. So is Neville. He can see their struggles and can't understand why they can't
just...not struggle. He's black and white like that."

"I thought he was full of grey tones," Snape disagreed. "It's never black and white for him." He grimaced as he thought of
how nothing with the boy was straightforward. Stupid Altair- it really was all Altair's fault.

"Grey...tones?" Luna repeated, holding up another silvery unicorn hair. "Hey, Professor, in your professional experience
can centaurs and unicorns mate?"

Snape blanched. This was going to be a long afternoon.

.oOo.

Hogsmeade.

Ginny watched as Cedric and Cho shared a kiss over a mug of hot chocolate in Madam Puddifoot's window. What she
wouldn't give for Neville to give her some of that!

"Neviiilllle! I'm starving! Let's go in Madam Puddifoot's!"

Lavender, upon hearing this, tugged on Ron's arm too. Needless to say, all four ended up within the small coffee shop.
Neville let himself be tugged around, but he was growing unhappier by the minute. It was pure humiliation when a
freakin' naked cupid flew over them with sparkly red confetti. Ginny cooed at the cuteness. Neville smiled weakly. As it
was a shop for couples, Lavender and Ron had departed to one side of the room, leaving Ginny and Neville alone in the
back.

"I'll have the Lover's Liquid Lust with a side of Sexy Sugar and Couple's Cream," Ginny told the girl who came around.

"Uh- just water for me-" Neville said nervously, when he was swiftly kicked under the table.

"Actually, he'll have the same as me." Ginny smiled.

"Alright! Two Lover's Liquid Lust with sides of Sexy Sugar and Couple's Cream, coming right up!"

A cupid flew overhead and snatched the order from the waitress' hand. Neville's face was flaming. Looking past Neville,
Ginny could clearly see Cedric and Cho going at it. She returned her attention to her boyfriend.

"So, Neville dear..."

.oOo.

As Tracey tried to get Hermione into a somewhat "Girly" mood, Daphne was becoming more miserable by the minute.
Draco and Theo announced they were heading to this small boutique down the street, when Hasan said he'd be with
Daphne getting a drink.

As the four left, Hasan turned to Daphne who was by this time quite curious.

"Are you thirsty?" Hasan asked her.

Not wanting to go dress shopping right away, if at all, Daphne nodded.

"Okay, Madam Puddifoot's it is then!" Hasan smiled at her, much to her horror.

"Hasan! That's for lovers!" she hissed, eyes darting wildly around in case anyone overheard and got the wrong idea.

"Exactly," Hasan smirked, "Everyone will be too engrossed in each other for anyone to pay any mind to us. You seem
down. This is the ideal place to talk in private."

Catching on, Daphne nodded. "Oo-kay then, but I'm just getting water, nothing too lovey-dovey."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Hasan grinned.

Daphne took one step inside the coffee shop and promptly vomited a little in her mouth. There, right there in the
entrance, was Cedric and Cho. Or Cho and Cedric. Or Chedric. So closely were their limbs entwined. Yes, their clothes
were on. No, their hands were not kept to themselves. And yes, a heard of very amused cupids were sprinkling them with
red sparkly confetti. Daphne carefully tip toed around them and headed straight for the back corner. Once the two were
seated, she sent a Slytherin glare to Hasan.

"Never again." she said.

"Well, you had to admit I only had the best of intentions. Sorry if the atmosphere is uncomfortable, we can go somewhere
else."

Daphne shrugged. "I'm a Slytherin queen. I don't get uncomfortab le. I'm just saying that you owe me one."

Just then, a girl came around to ask for their orders.

"Two waters." Hasan answered quickly.

"Are you sure you don't want a Shared Spring? It has one large reservoir and two ends for straws!"

Daphne sent the girl a dangerous smile. "Two waters will be all, Miss."

The girl jotted down the plain order disdainfully and nearly punched the cupid that came flying by with the force of her
thrust.

Daphne let a ghost of a smile grace her face.

"You weren't lying were you?" Hasan asked suddenly.

Daphne froze. "What are you talking about?"

"When you said you didn't have a date. You weren't lying, were you?"

The Slytherin shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I keep telling her, but she won't listen."

"You know you can ask someone, right?" Hasan said.

Daphne actually laughed at that. "Hasan, you can't just walk up to someone and-"

"Why not?"

Daphne fixed him with a look. "You really don't know do you?"

"Know what?"

She sighed. "Hasan, there are these unspoken rules about asking people out for a night. It's traditionally the guy's
responsibility anyway, but that rule is changing a bit. But not in high class society."

"And you are...high class?" Hasan asked harshly.

"No, that's not what I mean!" she protested, wringing her hands. "No, it's just that if a girl asks many guys, they might all
talk and say the girl is desperate, or has low standards. It could paint a bad picture for her reputation. That she's
undesirable if no one wants her. I'm also in Slytherin, so there's an expectation that I must go with someone within my
own House."

"...You know this isn't marriage, right? You can just ask-"

"But Hasan! I can't! Can't you see? I don't even know who is going with whom. It's humiliating if I ask someone already
taken..."

Hasan looked at her as if she had grown another head. Guys were used to rejection. Why was it such a big deal for her?

"But you want to go with someone, right?" Hasan asked.

Daphne nodded miserably. "But it's not the end of the world if I don't. I just...he's already taken." She rested her head on
her hands and sighed.

Hasan sighed too. Girls. Too confusing. After a while, the two just sat there in silence. Daphne looked lost in thought,
when Hasan began eavesdropping on the surrounding conversations:

"Don't you like your Lover's Liquid Lust?"

"It's not my favorite."

"Want to order something else?"

"Not really...Ouch! Why do you keep kicking me?"

"Why are you acting like this?"

"You just kicked me!"

"No! I mean the fact that you don't want to even try ordering something new."

"Fine! I'll get something if it makes you happy!"

"URGH! That's not the point!"

"Then tell me what is!"

"I-"

"What? Say it!"

"I think we need to take a break..."

"...you're breaking up with me?...Look, I'll forgive you if you just take me to the Yule Ball, okay? We can forget this even
happened..."

"I-"

"Why can't you talk to me? Hey! Are you even looking at me? What are you-? Are you looking at HER?"

Hasan could feel something was about to happen. His eyes widened as glass crashed against the floor. He watched
Daphne's face as she continued to have that distant look...wait, was she looking at-?

"NEVILLE! I'LL SEE YOU AT THE YULE BALL." Ginny stormed angrily out of the shop, tripping over Chedric most
ungracefully. Everyone turned to watch the Boy-Who-Lived die of humiliation.

As Neville ran out after Ginny, Daphne abruptly stood up.

"I forgot I left something somewhere-" Daphne called breathlessly as she sprinted out into the cold.

Hasan was left alone as his water was brought to him by a very sad looking cupid.

"Love is unpredictable, isn't it?" the cupid lamented.

.oOo.

Daphne ran after Neville, spurred on by that uncontrollable force called Stupidity. Maybe she was more Gryffindor than
she ever cared to admit. Luckily, she didn't have to run far because Neville was out of breath in seconds...

"Stop chasing me, Ginny!" Neville huffed, hands on his knees.

"-It's not. It's Daphne."

...Daphne? Neville's mind went haywire. She couldn't have possibly heard Ginny all but shout he had been staring at
Daphne the whole time, right?

"I...you dropped this." Daphne lied, quickly taking some red confetti from her hair and offering a pile to Neville. He turned
around slowly, knowing he hadn't dropped anything, and grinned slightly at the pile.

"Thanks." he said. "But I think I dropped them on purpose."

"Oh really? I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want some red confetti."

Neville paused. Had she just...made a joke...to him? His head was not screwed on right today- Curse Dumbledore!

Act cool, Neville. He told himself, She's been over your house before, remember? You're friends! Just friends! You can
talk with her without seeming weird!
"So... I guess you heard...Ginny and me." Neville said lamely.

Daphne nodded. "Sorry, but it was rather loud."

"You're going with Hasan?" Neville asked. "I wasn't expecting that. Maybe I can go with Luna then..."

"NO!"

"What?" Neville appeared startled.

"I-I just meant that-" Daphne muttered. She took a deep breath. "Hasan is going with Luna, he was just kind enough to
take me out today to go dress shopping since I don't have a date yet...oh shit. Hasan's still in there! I just abandoned
him, didn't I?"

Neville nodded slightly. He didn't want her to go...what was this feeling? Neville stared at her retreating figure as Hasan
emerged from the coffee shop. Hasan made direct eye contact with him causing him to blush and look away. He hadn't
been extremely polite to Hasan recently...

Neville put his head down and continued to walk down the street. Why was he so attracted to Daphne? She was a
Slytherin for Merlin's sake! Dating her would be like... betraying his cause! And why was he thinking about dating
already? He hadn't even had the balls to ask her to a dance—a dance which he may or may not be going to with Ginny.
And...did he even break up with Ginny?

He had wanted to. He had tried to. He had intended to. But did he? She seemed to think otherwise. And maybe that was
good because she was a Weasley! Dumbledore would want him to keep his love interest within the Light side! And
when did Dumbledore become a part of his choice in women? Eww. He did not want to think about that.

Was he betraying everything he knew just for a pretty face? He didn't even know Daphne very well if he were honest with
himself...Just when he was about to head back to Hogwarts, a fist came flying out of nowhere! His nose split open with
an agonizing crack, blood gushing uncontrollably from such a small cavity.

"YOU DUMPED MY SISTER YOU BASTARD!"

Neville could hear giggles in the background: "Get him Ronnikins! Get him good!"

"I-I-I-"

"I HATE YOU NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!" Ginny shouted, tears pouring down her face.

Daphne turned at the sound of commotion, gasping in horror as she saw the red pour around the boy. She was about to
show those Gryffindor's the wrath of Slytherin, but Hasan held her back.

"Expecto Patronum!" he whispered...and Daphne gaped.

.oOo.

Draco had just finished paying for a rather expensive dress (which we should all note he was not allowed to see yet)
when he took a step outside in the cold wintry air.

"Thank you so much!" Tracey gushed happily.

"You know I would've paid for yours too, right?" Theo nudged Hermione.

Hermione shrugged. "I have money." It wasn't that she was being stubborn and making a feminist point, well partly, but
there really wasn't any necessity for Theo to be providing for her. It seemed old-fashioned, a bit sexist, and binding. She
didn't need to owe him anything.

Just as the four were going to head back up to the castle for a nice cup of hot chocolate- for all were cold and very tired
from their tedious day of shopping- a giant silver peacock went running past them, leaving ghastly silver tendrils in its
wake.

"What the-?" Draco's silver eyes bugged out of his head. "Father?" he breathed. They watched the peacock stop some
distant away, no more than a pulsating ball of silver, before coming back...with Professor Lupin in tow!

In the opposite direction, loud shouts were coming from outside Madam Puddifoot's cafe. Wails and shouts and gasps!
As Lupin hurdled passed them, traveling faster than anyone could have imagined the old professor could run, the four
chased after. What was going on? And who did that patronus belong to?

The scene that Lupin, Hermione, Theo, Draco, and Tracey happened upon was of Lavender and Ron shouting battle
cries and Ginny screaming like a banshee. A small crowd had amassed around an unknown fallen figure. It seemed that
everyone was too scared to do anything but watch. While everyone else was occupied, Draco's eyes followed the silver
peacock up to its creator- up on the hill to Daphne who was next to Hasan. Wait, what? Hasan was holding Daphne back
as the girl tried to claw her way out of his grip.

"KICK HIM HARDER!" Lavender cried.

"MORE MORE!" that was Ginny.

"UH! GRR! THAT'S FOR HURTING MY SISTER!"

"TAKE THAT!"

Was this Armageddon? Draco thought to himself. Who was the boy being beaten?

Suddenly, Hermione gasped. "It's Neville!" she whispered. "Ron's kicking him!"

But this still didn't explain why Hasan had a peacock patronus or why Daphne was being restrained.

"Everyone step away! Let me pass!" Remus commanded the students. When they refused to move, he got angry. "I said
STEP AWAY!"

The crowd parted slowly, letting Lupin approach the broken bundle that was once known as Neville Longbottom. Lupin's
nostrils flared. His wolf instincts caused him to bar his slightly pointed teeth. The crowd backed away faster this time.
The werewolf turned his bright yellow eyes towards one Ronald Weasley who was by now blinded and made dumb by
rage.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Remus yelled. No one would answer, then, everyone erupted into chatter:

"HE-"

"GINNY!"

"BASTARD-!"

"-dumped her- saw it in Madam-"

"Kill him!"

"-wouldn't stop kicking!"

This was going nowhere!

"ENOUGH!" Remus shouted. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, and Miss Brown, follow me at once." Then, unexpectedly, he
turned his gaze towards a boy on the hill- one whom no one had paid any attention to before. "Mr. Castell," Lupin said, "if
you could please take Mr. Longbottom to get the b est treatment. I will be with you shortly."

Draco watched as the three Gryffindors were led away with fists at their sides before watching Hasan descend to the
common people. Skillfully, Hasan cast the stupefy charm, ceasing all of the boy's agonizing twitches, then he levitated
Neville onto a stretcher. Daphne and Hasan walked up to the building together. Once safely inside the castle, Hasan
turned towards the dungeons.

"Wha-?" Daphne asked softly, realizing they weren't headed towards Madam Pomfrey.

"He did say the b est treatment, did he not?" Hasan replied. They descended to the dungeons, before knocking furiously
on Snape's office door. It opened quickly, much to their surprise.

"What in Salazar's name?" Snape asked, feeling a headache coming on.

.oOo.

Severus was pressing potions into the worst of Neville's injuries when Albus Dumbledore unexpectedly and
unannounced flooed into the room. Hasan was currently curled up on Snape's living room couch as Daphne sat quietly
across from him on the floor, head in her lap. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had inadvertently caused this.
Without her, Ginny wouldn't have gotten mad...

"Remus has just informed me that Mr. Longbottom has had an accident!" Dumbledore cried, stumbling into the room
without his famed grace.

"More than an accident!" Snape sneered angrily. "Headmaster! They have beaten him to a bloody pulp because he
spurned the young Weasley's advances!"

"Ginevra?" Albus asked, "She said nothing of the sort! She was concerned for the welfare of her boyfriend!"

Snape whipped around to fully face the headmaster, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Can you honestly look at him and say that Neville has simply fallen down the stairs? Two cracked ribs, a broken nose, a
concussion, a fractured elbow! The list continues! We have several witnesses willing to testify that they saw Ronald
Weasley beat him- resorting to such crude muggle tactics- including one Professor Lupin!"

"But-"

"No, excuses Albus!" Severus roared. "It is time to face the facts! Look at your golden boy! LOOK AT HIM! You have done
this to him! YOU! By forcing this role upon him! Ginevra Weasley has become obsessed! Isn't it you who always
preaches the power of love? Well here it is! Congratulations Albus!"

"Severus-" Albus held up a hand, weakly, beseechingly.

Both men forgot that Hasan and Daphne were in the room. Both men forgot that Neville was only temporarily stupefied
and that his mind too was functioning quietly.

"YOU CREATED THE BOY-WHO-LIVED AND YET YOU REFUSE TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR HIS SAFETY!"

"This is beyond either of us, Severus! I need him to go with me to destroy One of them! I have found One and he is to
come with me!"

Severus made a dramatic sweep of his arm over Neville's shattered body. "Yes! He's in mint condition to suffer even
more at your hands, Albus!"

For the first time, Albus let his eyes fall upon the body; the body which lay on its stomach, stripped of its shirt. Bloody,
bruised, helpless. A horrible gurgle emanated from his throat then- a choked sob.

"I shall go alone then." Albus said with obvious effort, words getting caught in his throat. "I am sorry. So sorry." He
approached the hospital bed with careful, ginger steps. His twinkling eyes teared up even as his mind tried to
comprehend the sheer emotion running through him. He had done this?

But Ron had said...But Ginevra had said...The Weasleys! The Gryffindors! They had come running into his office, with
Remus looking like he could rip out Hell with his teeth, shouting that Remus was crazy! Remus was losing control-
transforming! (They knew of his condition from being in the Order). They couldn't possibly speak frankly with such a man
in the room! So Albus had dutifully sent the werewolf out, trusting his golden Gryffindors over the half-breed. He now saw
that he was wrong.

They had spun him a tale of Slytherin victimizing Gryffindor, of Slytherins pushing Neville to his death. Of Ginny crying
helplessly over his broken body. They had lied! The Gryffindors had lied like-like dirty Slytherins! The irony! Albus had not
even once considered that perhaps Lupin looked as crazed as he did for all the right reasons. In all honestly, Albus
thought that he appeared much the same way right now.

"Forgive me." Albus said shortly. And he began chanting a low string of Latin, words that Snape recognized but had never
before used in practice because the ancient spells used internal magic more than the magic of the universe. Snape had
half a mind to shove Albus aside and yell at him for being an idiot for trying to kill himself. But half of him felt that it was
only right.

.oOo.

It was around midnight when Albus finally finished, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. Neville would need to spend a
week in recovery still, but he was in much better shape than before...

Snape didn't have to agree with Albus to respect him. He let Albus sleep in his own chambers as Snape took the couch.
Moments like these reminded Snape that he had indeed chosen the right side. That he had put his faith in a man who-
while flawed- had the courage and commitment to try to fix things. In other words, he was confident that he had put his
life rightfully in the hands of a Gryffindor.

A/N: Why is Hagrid's cabin locked? What is Luna going to use the unicorn hairs for? And POOR POOR Neville! What
do you think Draco will think about the patronus? Anyone like my menu from Madam Puddifoot's? I sure did :)
Anyone a fan of Chedric? Anyone glad that Albus got yelled at? And those Gryffindors...think I went overboard?

Vote: Perhaps a little early to ask all of you but...

The Truth About Altair. It involves Melusine... Should I post as

a) Chapter 43 (chronologically correct)

b) Chapter 50 (The end after the epilogue so it doesn't interrupt Hasan's storyline)

c) As a separate story (Bonus content!)

PLEASE REVIEW! LET'S REACH 800!

*Chapter 34*: Left to Know
A/N- Hey guys! I wanted to update earlier, namely on my birthday October 9th, but I didn't have my computer on me!
You see, I tried downloading Mozilla Firefox...don't do it! It downloaded several other files on my computer and
started a fake "virus-scanner" which is ironic because that in itself was the virus! The computer started speaking to
me saying I had better call this number because my credit card info was at risk (for the record, don't even have a
credit card) and all this other rot. It was, in short, a textbook scam. It did freak me out though. So yeah, my computer
was in the shop for a while and I was terrified of losing all my up to date fanfiction chapters! Luckily, all my files are
back, so thank the gods!

Thank you for all the lovely reviews! I will thank you for them individually later because I am drowning in tissues,
literally and feel like utter crap. Thank you seasonal allergies! Besides that, college applications and bah! Stupid
calculus. Maybe you can relate?

Anyway, please enjoy this chapter!

"Go back and forward,

But all is melting like the snow

Taking all from us,

All we thought was left to know"

On Powdered Ground by Agnes Obel

Return of Emerald

Chapter 34: Left to Know

Before fully understanding where he was or what he was seeing, Hasan had the indescribable feeling of somehow
having been here before. The floor, when he deigned to glance down, was smooth clean black tile. He vaguely wondered
how anyone could keep floors this clean, unless of course there was no one at all. But if it this place was indeed
abandoned, why did the air seem to bear down on him in ghostlike wisps and whispers?

Wait, was there something shining in the floor? Hasan blinked. No. The glass-like tiles were merely reflecting something
which was above. Something which was in front...

The one who knows the ways of half its kind...with the power...reaches a crossroads...to vanquish...half-love...the Dark
Lord...seventh month dies...seventh moon...

Hasan jerked his head up, eyes filled with the scene of innumerable rows of shelves, each with countless glowing glass
orbs, prophecies swirling within them! But which one was his? One of them had to be his, right? Dumbledore had
published it to be so in his first year:

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, b orn to those who have thrice defied him, b orn as the
seventh month dies.

So then, where would his be? Hasan began to walk. His legs carried him, ghostlike, through the aisles, as his bright
emerald eyes scanned the labels. He would be listed under P, for Potter, he thought, continuing to search. P...P...P...ahah!
Here it was: a dusty orb with the label:

S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

Hasan was drawn by that unknowable instinct to reach out for it- to touch the prophecy that would probably consume
most of his adult life- but stopped himself. Something felt off...When he glanced up at the spun-glass orb again, he was
astonished to find that the color swirling inside was no longer white but a brilliant, beautiful gold! He mentally cursed
himself for his hesitation. Had he just reached for it, this would never have happened! Mentally vowing not to hesitate this
time, he snatched the orb from the shelf.

"Very good, Mr. Potter," someone said. A slow, demeaning clap began. "Now give it to me."

Hasan slowly turned around, strangely fearless in his dream, prophecy clasped tight in his palm.

Then there was a gasp.

"IDIOT BOY!" the Dark Lord growled, though his exact figure was obscure and more of a mass of dark evilness. "THAT IS
NOT OUR PROPHECY! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

Hasan looked down at his hands, wondering whose prophecy it was, when he was abruptly jerked from his lovely
dream.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Who the Hell was knocking on his door? Hasan sat up immediately, rubbing some salt from the corners of his jade
eyes.

"Hasan!" it was Draco. "Daphne's been bothering me all morning. She finally wore me down. She wants to speak with
you."

Hasan blinked. "About what?" he called as he quickly pulled on his robes.

"How should I know?" Draco sighed dramatically outside his door. "Girls..."

"Tell her I'll be out in a second," Hasan said, slipping on his shoes. It was only six o'clock, classes didn't start until 7:30!
What had gotten her all in a rush? The possibilities worried him.

Within seconds, Hasan was out the door, nearly knocking Draco to the ground as he tried to find the troubled Daphne.
Draco stared after him in awe. Was there something going on between them? Not that he cared for Daphne anyway,
Tracey was more his type, but perhaps there was a deeper meaning to why they were together outside of Madam
Puddifoot's last Hogsmeade Weekend. But wasn't Hasan going out with that Luna girl? Draco shook his head ruefully.
When thinking about Hasan's potential love interests he could almost forget he was about to sell him to the devil. It was
just a matter of time.

.oOo.

Hasan entered the common room calmly, but his jade eyes told a different story as they searched frantically for the black
haired girl. He shoved thoughts of his previous nightmare aside as he prepared to deal with a coming storm.

Daphne and he didn't talk much outside of their social group, so to get such an immediate request to see him this early
in the morning left little doubt as to what the conversation could be about. He found her sitting nonchalantly in the corner
of the room, knee bouncing furiously up and down in that fidgety way of hers. He approached her slowly, trying not to
draw too much attention to himself, in case some nosy Slytherin decided that this was worth eavesdropping on.

"Daphne?" he whispered as he sat down beside her on the couch.

"Oh." She turned her head to face him, and he could see her black eyes look a bit distant- thoughtful. "Can we...go
somewhere else?" she asked.

"Where?"

"Anywhere private."

Hasan glanced at the clock. "Classes will start in an hour. Is that enough time?"

"I ate already," she said.

He looked at her in some surprise. So she had been up already. Doing what? Worrying probably.

"Okay, I know a place where we can go."

.oOo.

"I need a place where we can talk in private... I need a place where we can talk in private... I need a place where we can
talk in private..." Hasan thought repeatedly, not caring that Daphne was ogling at him with her mouth agape.

She was surprised to say the least when Hasan had led her to a seemingly unmarked corridor and started pacing about
a few times. But the look of concentration was so great on his face that she was loath to interrupt. What if he actually
knew a thing or two?

When Hasan finally stopped his pacing beside her, all her questions seemed to catch in her throat as a door suddenly-
magically- appeared where there had been solid wall before.

"This is the Room of Requirement," Hasan told her simply, reading the confusion on her face.

And suddenly, she had a lot more questions.

"So what is this place?" Daphne asked, the door shutting behind them and dissolving seamlessly back into the wall.
"And how do you know about it?"

Hasan ignored her for the moment, carefully approaching a long black couch which faced its twin. He carefully took his
seat, gesturing for her to do the same.

"It's called the come-and-go room," Hasan began and the girl settled herself. "You have to walk by the room three times,
concentrating intently on what you want the room to be or have. I've used this room as a training room before...but today I
simply asked it to provide a safe place for talking."

Her forehead wrinkled as she thought about the possibility of such a room existing- which it so clearly did- and how it
could have been used in the past. How many people knew about it? Did Dumbledore? Did McGonagall? Did her
parents?

"That is...really amazing," she finally stammered.

Hasan nodded in agreement. "A house-elf mentioned it one day. I found it fascinating at least...so you wanted to discuss
something?"

"Oh..." Daphne bit her lip, glancing around the room for perhaps inspiration.

Hasan sighed. It was clear by the look on her face that Daphne clearly wanted to discuss something, but was unsure of
how to broach the subject. Hasan, who obviously did not know the conversation topic at hand, was at a loss on how to
start as well. Finally, they both started at once:

"So I was thinking-"

"You wanted to talk ab out-?"

Both shut their mouths quickly, grinning shyly at each other.

"Alright, you go first since you woke me up this morning," Hasan said, trying to make it sound like a casual joke, (but he
really was upset about getting his dream disrupted.)

"Yeah...haha...sorry about that," Her eyes glazed over a bit. "So, Hasan, do you remember the other night when...when we
took Neville down to the dungeons?"

Hasan nodded, his heart sinking a bit as he realized where the conversation would most likely lead. How could he
forget? Neville broken, bloodied, bruised. Recovering in Snape's quarters when the floo flared to life.

"Yes, well," Daphne continued, clearing her throat. "Were you awake when Professor Dumbledore came in and started
talking with Professor Snape?"

Hasan nodded again.

"Did you get the impression that Snape was..." she took a deep breath, "...implying that perhaps Neville Longbottom was
not...that is to say-" She seemed at a loss for words. The meaning hung painfully obvious in the air between them.

"The Boy-Who-Lived?" Hasan provided lightly.

Her face snapped to his. "Yes. That's exactly it," Her lips quirked upward at his comprehension.

"Why is it so hard to say?" Hasan enquired gently.

"Well, it's just that it's crazy, isn't it? I mean, Neville is the Boy-Who-Lived, right? Everyone says so. The headmaster says
so! You might think I've gone mad insinuating such a radical theory!" she was flushed with excitement, delighted to be
understood.

Hasan swallowed. She put him in a very difficult position and now he had a VERY simple choice to make. One, betray
her trust and shut this down right now. Or two, tell her she was completely barmy. Barking mad. Make her promise never
to speak of this again...OR an option three. Perhaps he could indulge her a bit. Slip a bit. Not lie just for a second. A
second! Well honestly, how much damage could he do really?

"I don't think you're crazy," Hasan finally said.

"You- don't?" she replied dubiously, eyebrow quirked.

"Well, you seem of sound mind to me," he smiled jokingly.

Daphne released a heavy sigh.

"Look, Hasan. I've been thinking about what Professor Snape said. He accused the headmaster of creating the Boy-
Who-Lived and that isn't an allegation made lightly. And on top of that, Professor Dumbledore seemed remorseful. As if-
as if Snape was telling the truth. I've...I've been looking things up the past few days. Reading old Daily Prophets, you
know, and I think I've found something a bit hard to believe." Her voice became a whisper as she reached into her
pockets and pulled out copies of old newspapers.

Hasan began to sweat. This was not how he imagined this would go. She had found proof? PROOF? If Daphne had
access to this, then surely everyone else did too! Was Dumbledore stupid?

"Here, I'll read it to you," she said, smoothing out the pages. "This first one, which dates back to November 1st, 1981 –
the day after the Dark Lord fell- says this: It is presumed that the killing curse cast from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's
wand had reb ounded off the head of the now orphaned infant Harry Potter and killed You-Know-Who, effectively ending
this reign of terror. Harry Potter, who is b ut one year old, now b ears the lightning b olt scar, marking him forevermore in
Wizarding history as the Boy-Who-Lived."

Hasan bit his lip. He had never actually bothered to look up any old Daily Prophets, having had the misfortune of picking
one up in his youth and nearly vomiting. Now he regretted that decision. Daphne, technically, knew more about him than
he did!

"And then here's this one, written by the same woman, Rita Skeeter, from only two years ago: Neville Longb ottom, a
handsome young b oy of eleven, has just finished his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although
raised b y his single grandmother, Augusta Longb ottom, Neville has shown unparalleled talent in the dangerous and
very intellectually challenging field of Herb ology. What the Wizarding World does not yet know is that this cheery young
b oy has already saved the Wizarding world from the evil clutches of You-Know-Who! Yes! Neville Longb ottom, as
prophesized b y the famed seer Syb ill Trelawney, is our world's Boy-Who-Lived! For those still needing proof, here is
undeniab le evidence from Alb us Dumb ledore himself! 'I have had the great fortune,' Alb us told me confidentially over an
amicab le mug of hot chocolate, 'to listen to the great Syb ill Trelawney as she made her most famous prophecy. This
information is not to b e taken lightly, b ut for you Rita, I will b e pleased to share a piece of the original prophecy: The one
with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the
seventh month dies.' "

Hasan did his best not to swallow too loudly, but he was certain his Adam's apple had down a cartwheel.

"Do you see what this means?" Daphne asked him excitedly. "It means that somehow, the Boy-Who-Lived's mantle
transferred from Harry Potter to Neville Longbottom, and the Ministry of Magic and most likely the staff of Hogwarts are in
on it!"

Hasan could not stop himself from choking this time. "That's quite the conjecture to make," Hasan observed as mildly as
he could.

"Yes, but...what else can I possibly think? Albus Dumbledore was quoted in this article!"

Hasan thought quickly, averting his eyes. "Well, there is this new theory going around that Neville is named the Boy-Who-
Lived because the prophecy referred to both him and Harry Potter and clearly Neville is the only one living."

Daphne frowned at him. "But why is Neville even involved anyway? It was always just Harry Potter. But Harry's missing
now..."
Before her brain could work out the rest-and Hasan had no doubt that she could- Hasan interrupted.

"The prophecy did say born as the seventh month dies, right? And Neville is born in July, you know. You've been invited to
his parties same as me." Hasan let out a sigh of relief. There, that should throw her off.

"But there are loads of people who are born in July!" Daphne shouted. "Like YOU!"

"Yes well..." Hasan mumbled, mentally slapping himself. "You've got a point there." Shit! Shit! Shit!

Daphne smiled triumphantly. "So you believe me then?"

"Didn't I say I thought you weren't crazy?" Hasan attempted to joke again, but his insides were frozen. That was close. Too
dangerously close. If she linked Hasan Castell to Harry Potter, then both he and Harry were dead. Absolute goners.

"Yeah, well," she blushed. "I just had to be sure." She sighed, stretching her arms out behind her. "I'm glad we can be
frank with each other in this room," she said, admiring the white upholstery.

"Yeah," Hasan lied, swallowing. "It's nice."

.oOo.

"YOU CREATED THE BOY-WHO-LIVED AND YET YOU REFUSE TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR HIS SAFETY!"

Neville moaned in his sleep.

Created.

CREATED.

Boy-who-...lived.

To lie.

To fight for the path of Gryffindor.

Bravery...

"YOU CREATED..."

The sharp bitter voice of the Potions Master reverberated in his memory. Bits and fragments mingling with the pounding
of his head. Who had Snape been talking to? The headmaster, right? Albus had come and chanted him to sleep...

Neville rolled over on his side, only to find that his arm was restricted in a cast...Created...yes, sometimes Neville forgot
he was created. He moaned again, something hurt. His arm probably.

His head? He couldn't be sure.

"Neville? Neville?" was that? No. It had to be coming from his dream. Who was waking him at this ungodly hour?

"Neville? Neville? Neeeevvvilll-"

Why wasn't it stopping? He was tired? Why was a voice still talking to him if he was tired! Suddenly he felt a sharp pinch
in his arm.

"OWW-!" Neville jerked awake, rubbing his hand on reflex as his eyes quickly blinked shut, unused to the bright white of
the Hospital Wing. Before he did so however, he glimpsed someone at the side of his bed. A girl. Oh, Merlin! He hoped it
wasn't Ginny, he couldn't stand to hear her this early in the morning!

"Neville? Sorry! I just wanted you to wake up! Madam Pomfrey says that you need to take a potion anyway in a few
minutes, and besides you were having a nightmare...or something."

Neville blushed as he reopened his eyes. Phew! It was Daphne, glowing with beauty in the morning light. Her dark black
hair was draped elegantly over one shoulder and-

"Neville? Neville, are you even listening to me?"

"I- what?"
Daphne sighed.

"I asked if you want to discuss what you were dreaming about...I hear you mumbling 'created' and 'created' over and
over." She gazed at him with sympathetic black eyes.

"Oh, I don't know," Neville said, trying hard not to fidget. "It's just nonsense." He averted his eyes, not wanting her to see
the transparency of his lie. He was scared. Scared out of his mind that perhaps Albus' foolproof plan wasn't that
foolproof. It was hard enough to sometimes remember he wasn't the true savior of the Light. To have his crush potentially
find out and...and...leave him? Think of him badly? Judge him? Call him a liar? He was terrified of the rejection. The
rejection he was sure to get from Ginny if even an inkling of such a radical (and true) theory got out.

"Well..." Daphne took in a deep breath. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here." She licked her lips before awkwardly
pointing to his bandaged arm with her entire forearm. "That. How is that doing?"

She inwardly cursed her eloquence or lack thereof.

"Oh?" Neville was grateful for the change of topic. "It feels loads better actually. I mean it hurt when I rolled on it this
morning, but compared to that day." He ended with a sheepish grin. It hurt his ego to think of how weak he was to get
beaten the muggle way. Merlin, would anyone actually by the farce now that he was the messiah of the Wizarding world
once they heard of his epic defeat by girlfriend's sissy brother?

"It'll be healed in no time if you drink these," Daphne said, holding up two potions. Neville snapped out of his daze as
she handed him one in a triangular flask. He tried to uncork it, but found that he couldn't even hold it with one arm.
Thoroughly embarrassed and as bright red as a tomato, Neville looked down at his sheets.

"Here, I'll do it- I promise I won't tell," she added jokingly- almost flirtingly, as she easily uncorked the potion and brought
it to his lips.

He took one whiff and promptly gagged.

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived," she laughed.

Neville quickly downed the potion to avoid responding to that, causing Daphne to frown but she didn't comment on it.

"Okay, this one next." She placed the first flask on the table and uncorked the second blue potion in seconds. "It's a
simple pain reliever. It shouldn't taste that bad," she said soothingly.

Neville drank it obediently. Daphne smiled at him. "I'm so proud of you!" she cooed. "Oh, and by the way I brought your
trunk down here...Don't worry I had Seamus Finnigan go in so I didn't intrude on your privacy. Anyway, he said he
gathered all your stuff, but I don't know if I believe him because it is pretty light. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I just thought you'd
want it is all. Who knows when Madam Pomfrey will let you out of her sights and into that danger filled world again?"

Neville grinned broadly. "Thank you, Daphne. Really." He looked into her eyes and felt...something, but that something
was too personal, too deep, too sappy to let it continue. He broke eye contact hastily, flushing all down his neck.

"Right, well. I should go. Potions first, you know?" she grabbed the empty vials and prepared to leave when Neville called
out a spontaneous thank you. She paused in her movements, looking back at him one more time.

"I better not get Snape angry this early. Everyone will hate me," she said shortly, and exited a bit faster than could be
considered natural.

Neville watched her with the peculiar feeling of desire. Was this what attraction felt like? Then why had he never
experienced such a strong pull with Ginny? These thoughts occupied the back of his mind as he reached towards his
trunk. He figured out pretty quickly that he didn't have the strength to haul it onto his bed, so instead he daringly lunged for
his wand on the bedside table and levitated it onto his lap. He propped himself up with his pillow before opening his
case.

It was nice, he decided, that Daphne had thought to bring this to him. He was almost relieved because now he knew that
Ron couldn't go poking through his belongings. Using one hand, he unlocked both clasps and leaned back so he
wouldn't hit his head when the case swung open. Ahh! Some black and brown to break up the sanitary white of the room!
He dug in his trunk for a plain shirt to throw on, as his chest was bare save for many meters of bandages, when his
hand touched a rather peculiar solid object. Oh no! Had Weasley gotten to his trunk before her? Had he planted
something like a dungbomb or real b omb ? It pulsated warmly in his palm, making him feel all at once calm and on high
alert. It was as if it were trying to tell him something.
Removing the object from his trunk, he was shocked to find his had clasped around the remembrall his granny had
bought him in his first year...a content smile settled on his face as he recalled how he was once just unpopular, awkward
Neville. The kid that Draco Malfoy decided to pick on...the kid Hasan decided to fight for...Hasan had done that for him-
Neville- without any of this Boy-Who-Lived stuff getting in the way. It simply didn't exist yet.

A feeling of guilt bubbled in Neville's stomach as he thought about how rude he had been to Hasan and Draco in the
recent months. He felt the dull pain in his arm slowly fade as the potions took effect, but he almost wanted to feel the
pain- to suffer for his stupidity. He just felt so incredibly guilty. How could he have been such a jerk? Boy-Who-Lived? Who
lied more like! Created...created... Wait, if Snape had said that, then...did all the staff know? Was Neville the only one truly
believing in this farce? Was Professor McGonagall actually still hoping for Harry Potter to return? Now he just felt foolish.

The nudging feeling was back, this time coming from his hand. Neville glanced down at the remembrall pulsing a bright
scarlet red. Huh, that was odd. Wasn't it? Wasn't red supposed to mean-?

Neville swallowed audibly. What had he forgotten?

.oOo.

So Daphne suspected, Hasan mused sourly. No, she absolutely knew. Albus Dumbledore might be gifted at fooling the
masses, but if a school girl could figure out the truth, then it was only a matter of time before someone else did too. And
this was of the utmost concern to Hasan, because he did not need to feel guilty about his decisions in life. If suddenly
the whole world decided that he was their only savior and begged for his return, then that would certainly be stressful!

The trouble was, the Dark Lord had already seen Hasan and already knew that he was Harry Potter. Sooner or later, the
Dark Lord would make his move. According to Snape, the Dark Lord had yet to obtain a proper body, but that was only a
matter of time! Hadn't Luna just told them that Draco and Barty were planning something with some unknown woman?
Salazar, Hasan could be murdered any day now and no one would be the wiser as to who he really was!

Hasan, who prided himself just a bit on his calm composure, was feeling a little less than calm at the moment. He
couldn't let anyone see him like this. It wasn't safe. He could return to his dorm, but why? There was nothing for him
there. Even as he thought this, the moans were getting louder. The sound of water gushing filled his ears. Before
realizing where his feet had taken him, Hasan was hissing Open.

The Chamber of Secrets was a place of battle at the end of his second year. One might wonder why he had even decided
to return and hide a new snake inside its depths. Maybe because, like the name suggests, this was a place for secrets-
for privacy- one which no one but himself (and perhaps Voldemort) could access. He walked slowly across the cold
stone floor, casting a silent Lumos.

:Melusssine?: he hissed tentatively. Where was that snake? Where could she have gotten to? :Melusssine?:

Odd sounds, echoes from the school's plumbing, resounded from the walls which seemed to cave in on him. Perhaps
this was not such a good idea...from deep within the chamber a soft sweeping sound could be heard. Hasan quirked his
head to the side, trying to remember where he had heard that before. Something sweeping over stone...a snake! Hasan
squinted into one of the tunnels, taking a step forward. He had originally thought the chamber was just that- a single
room, but how many tunnels were there? And where did the lead?

:Hassssan? Isss that you?:

Hasan grinned broadly as his friend slithered into the light, under the ceiling of the main chamber.

:Yeah,: Hasan said, :It'ss me. Where were you?: He walked to the center of the room, in view of the giant head of Salazar,
eyes flickering from tunnel to tunnel. Funny how he hadn't noticed such things when he was busy fighting for his life!

:Here and there.: she replied with a hint of a smile. :What bringss you, little one? Have you brought me a snack? These
tunnels are filled with rats and tasty morsels, but I'd love to have some rabbit some time!:

:Err, no ssorry.: Hasan said, not sounding that sorry at all. His eyes returned to hers. :I've come to clear my head.: he
confessed. :But now I'm curious. Where do all these tunnelsss go?:

:Ahh," she flicked her tongue out as she thought. :Some go nowhere, but some only appear to go nowhere.: she looked
at him with concern. :If you've come to clear your head I don't think that-:

:Melussine, I'm fine.: he protested.

She gave him a look that said, 'if you say so', before proceeding to slink away.
:Hey, wait!: Hasan called. :Where're we going?:

:To a place I think will fascinate you. You know, Merlin used to say that the best cure for being sad was to learn something
new.:

:Did he now?: Hasan asked, following the snake on perhaps misplaced trust through the bowels of Slytherin's finest
secret.

:Yes, funny isn't it? By that logic, one can never be sad at Hogwarts.: Melusine mused. :But here we are!:

They had come through but two twists and turns to a solid stone wall. Hasan half-glanced at his snake friend, wondering
if she was lying and really just wanted to eat him, when she released a sudden laugh. Her green sides shook with mirth
as Hasan frowned at her. He, at least, did not find this prospect very entertaining.

:Open: Hasan hissed, figuring that that was the generic code for all of Slytherin's possessions. Fortunately, he was not
wrong. The heavy black door swung open with a great deal of labored groaning, revealing another chamber, shrouded in
shadow.

:There's a light on the ceiling. I think if you light it on fire, it would illuminate the whole room.: Melusine offered hopefully.

Hasan nodded in acknowledgement. "Incendio!" he said, flicking his wand. The spell shot from his wand and into the
ancient looking contraption. It was a dull, but clearly golden, lamp which swung on the ceiling by a thin gold chain.
Despite its size, the small lamp did indeed cast the entire study in light. Magic, Hasan thought.

For the first time, Hasan was able to take a good look at his surroundings. This newly discovered chamber was not
large- being roughly the size of his own dorm room. There was one simple desk, carved it appeared from green marble,
with books so yellowed that Hasan suspected they would collapse to ash the second the wind touched it. By the desk
was a chair made of black wood with a majestic looking cushion on it. Was this Salazar's private study? Was that even a
thing? And why the heck was the main entrance through a girl's bathroom?

Hasan sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose at the stale, possibly moldy, dusty smell.

:How long do you think it has been since the last time someone was in here?: Hasan asked her.

:I do not know...: Melusine hissed. :Do I count? I have been sleeping in here for a while now.:

:How did you know it was here?: Hasan asked her.

:I didn't.: she said, turning to him. :But, there you have it. Slytherin's study! Try finding something in that pile to amuse you.:

Hasan looked towards the stack of ancient texts on the desk and on the floor. :Okay then...: Reaching out his senses
towards the chair, he confirmed that it wasn't cursed. He sat down cautiously, ready to blame Melusine if something went
wrong, before carefully scanning the tomes available to him. What could Salazar possibly have hidden here? Were these
books even still around? Still legal? Or where there copies upstairs in the library right now?

He reached for the book which seemed to strangely have no author, or perhaps no title, for it only said Merlin on the worn
leather cover. His interest was piqued. Perhaps it would mention something of Merlin's tears, which Snape vehemently
thought nonexistent. Pulling up his chair, Hasan bent his head and began to read...

He had only been reading for what seemed like a half an hour when his head began to buzz. A pounding headache
made him squeeze his eyes shut for a brief moment and he again questioned his decision in coming down here. So far
there had been absolutely no mention of Merlin's tears, and why would there be, because the book seemed to be written
by Merlin himself! And why would he write about bottling up his tears and perhaps hiding them in a cave somewhere?

:I better go back up.: Hasan told Melusine, who had curled up on his lap. :Maybe I can find this book in the school
library...: he said, taking out a quill and parchment to record the name.

:Why don't you just take the whole book?: Melusine asked him.

:Because then people might ask questions.: Hasan said. :But I also don't think I should move anything...not yet. There
could be curse we don't know of yet.:

Melusine seemed doubtful as she slid onto the floor again. :Perhaps, but Salazar did leave his study here for a reason.
He knew someone would return to gain this knowledge. But suit yourself, I love having a visitor.:
Hasan nodded. His excitement of having found Salazar's study came with the anxiety to learn everything at once. He had
barely even scratched the surface and still couldn't fully comprehend what he had just read. And he was a little
disappointed that Merlin had yet to make any mention of his elusive tears.

:Do you think Merlin's tears even exist?: Hasan asked Melusine as he was readying to leave.

:Merlin's tears?: Melusine echoed. :Of course they do.:

Hasan halted. :Wh-What?:

:They're rare to be sure, and perhaps all in private hands at the moment, but they certainly exist.:

:How can you be so sure?: Hasan asked her shrewdly.

:Because I've seen them.: she said. :A very long time ago there was a potion that could turn a human into a beast.
Merlin's tears have a peculiar healing quality about them- they are highly magical but also surprisingly gentle. They came
in a glass vial and I doubted at first if the merchant had given me water instead, but upon adding them to the potion, they
became a flaming red gas, a brilliant scarlet!:

Hasan listened intently. A brilliant scarlet, huh? And wait a minute...human to beast? Upon her adding them? He decided
not to press it for now. Besides, his headache was really killing him.

:Thank you, Melusine. I'll see you later.:

:Best of luck, little one.:

.oOo.

-Dream Start-

"And who iss thiss you have brought, Neville Longbottom? A friend? An ally perhaps?"

Neville took a step forward facing Professor Quirrell head on.

"A friend!" Neville heard himself shout firmly.

"Ah, a friend," an unknown voice purred as Quirrell's hand stroked the mirror at an awkward angle. Quirrell winced. With a
snap of the same hand, ropes sprang up around Hasan and Neville's body. And this was when Neville saw himself
falling to the floor with a muffled shout and a crash.

"What has the fool, Dumbledore done! I can see myself getting the stone! But nothing more! Where is it hidden!" that
same harsh voice commanded.

"M-master, if I may," Quirrell pleaded weakly.

"You can't do anything," the voice shrieked, then chuckled as if catching on to a joke, "I sssee...ussse the boy. Bring him
here, Quirrell. Have him stand in front of the mirror and tell me what he sees."

A snap of fingers later, and Neville was on his shaking feet, completely untied, but with Quirrell's creepy hands on his
back. Neville saw himself still.

"I-I see my...self winning the House Cup," Dream Neville said.

"Er-" Quirrell said.

"You idiot! He's lying!" the voice spat. "Turn around and let me face him!"

Quirrell did so hurriedly. "What do you see, Longbottom? I know it's in your pocket."

Neville froze, not even attempting to feint.

"Yes, Lord Voldemort knows all," Voldemort- no the voice- no they were the same, hissed before sending a crucio to
Neville. Neville, anticipating this instantaneously threw the stone to Hasan... And this was when everything became hazy
and black. Neville in the dream, no more than eleven, had succumbed to the pain. His brain and shut down and he fell to
the stone floor unconscious. So then...why was it that Neville was still here witnessing this all play out? Even if he
couldn't see what exactly was going on, the sounds were crisp and clear. Neville was intrigued.
He heard a grunt of exertion from someone. Then,

"I was wondering if I would see you today, Mr. Castell," Voldemort's voice hissed. "I haven't heard that name in a while.
You must be the last in the line. After I killed your father."

Neville froze. Hasan's father was...killed by this monster?

"Or perhaps not...Har-" And then suddenly the scene swirled. Stuck in his dream Neville was unable to control the pattern
his dreams took or look too deeply into any one detail. As much as he longed to continue in that one dream, there was
something equally as appealing in the next one.

Neville watched himself lean on his knees, completely out of breath.

"L-Luna? H-Hasan?" Merlin, how his voice sounded so weak! But present-day Neville was paying attention, acute
attention, to the two who stood in a pile of- wait, was that BLOOD? They did something Neville in the past had not even
noticed: Hasan and Luna had exchanged glances.

Neville inched forward to hear her barely audible voice. "I called him," Luna whispered, holding up her ring hand.

Neville recognized the Protean ring on her finger immediately. Funny how he had forgotten about that thing. How he had
forgotten about his friends...How he had forgotten all the details of this- whatever this was.

"W-what's going on down here?" Neville in the dream asked, stepping further into the chamber. "What is this place?...Is
that-Is that Draco?" His eyes bugged out in horror at the pasty blond looking for all the world dead.

Present Neville watched as Luna nodded sadly, but noticed that she reached for a wand lying on the ground. "I'm sorry
Neville! I never meant it!"

Present Neville watched as Dream Neville immediately jumped to conclusions:

"YOU? You did this?" he screamed in a hoarse whisper.

Then, Present Neville watched as Hasan gripped his own wand. Merlin! He should have noticed! He should have known
then!

"I'm! I'm so sorry, Neville!...But I haven't done it yet," Luna said nonsensically, a tear escaping her eye. "But I wanted to
apologize anyway."

Hasan shut his eyes, seemingly at war with himself.

"Luna, I don't-" Neville protested helplessly.

"Ob liviate," Hasan whispered, hitting Neville squarely in the chest with a jet of white light.

"Confundus!" Luna yelled instantly after, their spells hitting simultaneously. The Gryffindor golden boy shivered before
slumping down unconscious. "You stabbed the Basilisk with the sword of Gryfindor and saved Draco from harm," Luna
said clearly, swishing her wand around the boy's head. Dream Neville only twitched in response.

-Dream End-

Neville woke up panting, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. His hands cramped horribly, but as he flexed them, he
realized too late that something warm and hard had fallen out. Neville scrambled over the edge of his bed, still panting,
as the remembrall thudded to the ground. Then, as if having a mind of its own, the magical glass object began to roll
away from him...Stopped by a light blue velvety shoe!

Neville's head snapped up. "P-p-professor Dumbledore!" Neville stuttered, completely caught off guard. His mind was
still reeling from his most outrageously ridicules dream, and he was not quite aware yet.

The old grandfatherly headmaster smiled at him, a twinkle in his ice blue eyes.

"Hello Neville. It is good to see you making such a speedy recovery!"

Neville nodded, licking his lips.

"Ah! And is this your remembrall, Neville?" Albus asked good-humoredly as he bent to pick it up.
"Well, yes sir-"

"Hmm," Dumbledore said as he inspected the little orb. "Seems a bit warm. You weren't...sleeping with it, were you?"

"Well, I-"

Albus fixed him with a worried glance. "Memories, magic, and dreams are dangerous when mixed together, Neville." He
regarded Neville's sweat shined face and heaving chest before unexpectedly cracking a grin. "I don't need to tell you that
you can have the most peculiar dreams while holding one, do I?"

"Oh, no sir!"

"Good." Albus placed the remembrall on a folded shirt on the nightstand. "Neville," he sighed, "I deeply apologize for
placing you through this whole ideal. It was not my intention to...have caused you such pain. Mr. and Miss Weasley as
well as Miss Brown have all been suspended for a week and will not be allowed to attend the Yule Ball this year.
However, it was on the whole my fault that you are here like this. And for that, I am very very sorry."

Neville's face was full of anxiety as he tried to think of something to say to convince the headmaster otherwise. That no,
the headmaster had not caused Ginny to go crazy on him, or for Ron to start brutally beating him up.

"Albus-"

"No," Albus held up a hand to still him. "I've come today to tell you that I will be making the journey to the cave alone. You
are in no shape to accompany me, and even if you were, this cave is no place for school children or really anybody to
come to."

Neville felt something within him rise up. "Headmaster, I can do it. I'm not weak. I'm NOT! He got me this time, but next
time I'll be better! I'll beat him! I promise!" Unconsciously, tears sprung into his eyes. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

He heard Dumbledore release a heavy sigh. "Neville, that is not it at all. This, in fact, has actually very little to do with you
and all to do with me. This decision should never have been made. You should never have been made to wear this
burden of the Boy-Who-Lived (do not fret, we are alone), and you should never have been hurt. It took you to get hurt
psychically for me to realize what other emotional pains I have also inflicted on you." Albus sighed as one who was old
before fixing him with a very serious stare. "I never want to hear you speaking of beating someone up ever again. Do you
hear me, Neville? This is war, not some petty lover's game. It is not weak to not fight back, Neville. Do you understand
me?"

Very rigidly, Neville Longbottom nodded.

"Very well then," Albus said, giving him a grandfatherly pat on the back. "When I get back I'll have a special job for you," he
said. "Only a true Gryffindor can do it. I have faith in you, Neville. Get well soon."

A/N- So...thoughts? Reactions? Daphne's catching up! Dumbledore's heading in the right direction! Neville is
remembering things! Will Neville change for good? Will Dumbledore survive the cave? Will the locket be in the cave?
What will happen? What will they do?

Next up on ROE: "You understand, I'm sure." he smirked at the stunned expression on Barty's face. He looked thoroughly
chastised, cowed, and envious, b ut not exactly remorseful. He did have enough b rain power to get the gist though: kill
Draco and you're a dead man too.

PLEASE REVIEW!
*Chapter 35*: No Way Out
A/N: Hey everybody! It's been a while, but I'm finally on Spring Break and I just had to post something. I'm so sorry for this
crap updating schedule but I'll be sure to update more consistently as soon as summer comes. Thanks to all my
fantastic readers who have stuck with me and all the new readers who decided to check this out!

Happy Reading, as always, BT

"Wind heavy on the ground

A cloak before the moon

I guess I've never known

Someone like you

Falling down

From high hopes to the ground

There's no way out"

-Run Cried the Crawling by Agnes Obel

Return of Emerald

Chapter 35: No Way Out

The remembrall was red. Hot, bloody, scarlet, Hellfire RED. And the worst part was, Albus wasn't even that concerned.
Hadn't he already suspected that someone had tampered with his memories?

Albus sighed. He was so old now that he probably had forgotten a million things and then forgotten that he had forgot in
the first place. He was more concerned about Neville: No normal boy woke up as if they had just seen Voldemort in the
flesh! The boy had practically been dripping with sweat! But who had gotten close enough to the great Albus Dumbledore
to obliviate him? That was one question. The other was Why?

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door, breaking his train of thought. Albus frowned. Now who on earth could that be?
He opened his palm towards the entrance and the door burst open, revealing one pleasant-looking Severus Snape,
which was to say, the man was frowning as usual.

"Ah, Severus! To what do I owe the pleasure? Lemondrop?" Albus offered with a forced smiled.

"I'm not in the mood for your blasted sweets today, Albus," Snape snapped at him. "Not when the time is so near."

Not having had put a lot of effort in his appearance anyway, Albus let his face fall. "Have you been summoned?" he
whispered worriedly.

"Not yet," Severus said, unconsciously flexing his left arm where that sadistic bastard had branded him long ago. "But
the mark is becoming darker each day." He fixed the headmaster with a steady stare. "And Bellatrix Lestrange was
wandering the Forbidden Forest last week."

Now this really caught the headmaster's attention. "I...see." was all he could manage.

"You see?" Severus repeated, raising his eyebrows. "What do you see? Bellatrix has all but waltzed into Hogwarts,
plotted with Barty Crouch Jr. and Draco Malfoy, and killed every one of us!"

"But she couldn't have," Albus disagreed with certainty. "The wards-"

"The wards! Like the wards that kept Harry Potter safe?" Severus hissed accusingly, his eyes sharp as daggers. There
was a momentary pause where Severus rebuilt his collected mask.

Albus bowed his head in defeat, "I will ask Minerva to organize a party to strengthen the wards. But we really can't intrude
on the Forbidden Forest. That territory belongs to the wildlife."
Snape folded him arms. He knew that of course, but it was still frustrating.

"Severus?" Snape looked at him sourly. "I'll be journeying to the cave in two weeks' time. Kingsley will be taking care of
the castle in my stead."

"So when the Dark Lord decides to resurrect himself, you'll probably be away from the castle?" Severus jeered. "Well,
that's just bloody perfect!"

"Kingsley is more than capable of handling situations like these," Albus reassured him. "It just requires a little trust."

"Oh, it's not him I don't trust," Snape muttered under his breath. He looked away from the headmaster, at the bird that
was now preening its feathers. "I have potions to attend to," he said shortly. And left.

.oOo.

It was always the same dream. Except that it was different somehow. He was no longer the snake, Nagini, whom
Voldemort called his pet. He was now just Hasan. Hasan who was freely walking among the rows of prophecies.
Voldemort had not made an appearance in a while. Which was strange, thought Hasan, since wasn't Voldemort the only
reason why he would ever go down to the Department of Mysteries?

"So how did you sleep?" Luna asked him with a brilliantly bright smile on her face.

Hasan scooped some eggs onto his plate as he thought of a way to hide the truth. No need to worry her over a little
nothing.

"Hasan?" Luna prodded when he had been silent for a while.

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking."

"Of what?" Luna asked, all happy again.

"Nothing."

"Huh." Luna frowned at him. "Don't lie to me Hasan. Remember we're friends, right? You can tell me anything."

Hasan sighed, glancing around the table. He silently erected a privacy ward which he knew Luna could sense since she
seemed to grow even more interested- if that was even possible.

"I- I've been dreaming of the Department of Mysteries," Hasan confessed, "and I don't know why."

Luna pursed her lips in thought. "Well, there is a prophecy there about you…"

"I know, but...it's not my prophecy, I think. The thing is, I don't and can't remember whose it was. But I remember what it
said."

"Go on."

"Well..." Hasan paused. Goddamn it! The words had escaped him like smoke. "I thought I did," he blushed. "But it was
about unicorns and blood and- and something? I don't know. It just seems-Hey, hey, Luna?"

But as he glanced over at her he noticed that her silvery eyes had glazed over. Recognition flashed through him: the
Inspiration had taken hold of her once again.

"The one who knows reaches a crossroads..." Luna muttered under her breath. Hasan leaned in closer. Yes! Yes! That
was it!

But then she stopped. And the words stopped. And Hasan's heart sank.

"Ahh! So what were we talking about?" Luna wondered dreamily.

"I-you-" Hasan stared at her. "That was the prophecy!"

She looked at him dubiously. "No it wasn't, silly. I'm not a seer."

Hasan frowned. But he had heard her, hadn't he? And...if she hadn't made this prophecy...then maybe it was already in
existence? And it couldn't be fake if it appeared in both his dreams and now, right? Then that meant- his eyes widened-
that his dream was partially true. This prophecy could be found in the Department of Mysteries!

He turned to Luna, about to spill his thoughts of a possible plan, when the bell rang to signal the end of breakfast. Lunch
then. Okay. He could wait that long.

.oOo.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you could please hang back a moment," Moody barked loudly. When the classroom had emptied, Draco
warily approached the false professor.

"What is it?" Draco asked him, bag slung over his shoulder to indicate he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"It's time," Moody said cryptically.

"Time...time for what?" Draco squinted at him, unable to make out what he meant.

Moody smirked, in a way which told of a thousand things at once, none of them good.

"For you to report your findings, Mr. Malfoy. The staff has been notified earlier this morning that the headmaster will be
making, shall we say, a small excursion in one week. This will be the perfect opportunity for us to sneak out as well."

Draco paled. He had known this was coming, but...he swallowed. This was just insane!

"But-but what if it's a rouse? What if he knows someone's going to try something?"

Moody broke out into a crazed smile, "I've a spy of sorts to keep me informed of the headmaster's location. You're not
getting out of this that easily, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco swallowed.

"One week," Moody repeated. "Now get out!"

.oOo.

Draco left the defense room shaking, mind in an absolute frenzy. What the fucking hell was he supposed to tell the Dark
Lord? That Hasan was taking Luna Lovegood to the dance? That he had been dating her for a while without getting that
far psychically? Wow. Voldemort would be so impressed! Maybe he'd even let Draco die without any additional cruciatus
curses!

Bitterly, Draco trudged into the Great Hall and sat down for lunch besides Daphne and Tracey. A tuna fish sandwich
magically appeared on his plate, which he picked up delicately and ate. Hasan and his girlfriend, Luna, sat across from
him, their mouths moving just barely in a conversation. Wow, maybe if he just eavesdropped on their lover's lunch chatter
Voldemort would really spare him!

He took a sip of pumpkin juice. What were they even talking about anyway? Draco frowned into his plate as he tried and
failed to hear what they were saying. And yet their mouths kept moving…His eyes widened in realization. They had cast a
privacy charm! Perhaps this conversation was a little bit more interesting than he had previously thought. Summoning
his inner magic, Draco flicked his wand beneath the table at the couple, thinking of dissipating the wards. He felt his
magic buckle under the pressure, but he doubled his advances. It was not so much his magic this time that told him he
had succeeded as much as it was Hasan and Luna suddenly glaring at him.

Oh dear.

"Uh-m," Draco mumbled, mind suddenly useless.

Luna suddenly elbowed Hasan beneath the table, which Draco completely missed.

"So how are you doing these days, Draco?" Hasan asked him in a suspiciously pleasant tone of voice.

"As well as can be expected with all this snow," Draco said tonelessly. What were they up to?

"Are you perhaps interested in adding a little excitement to your life?" Luna enquired, silver eyes as big as a doe's.

Wait, what? Draco blinked a few times before he thought he understood what was going on.

"Aren't you-? Aren't you-?" mad at me, he wanted to say.

"Planning something incredibly secret?" Luna supplied. "Well, yes, maybe. But you can keep a secret, right, Draco?"

Draco gave a stiff nod, eyes seeking out Hasan's, but the jade-eyed boy refused to look at him. Why were they extending
him this invitation if Hasan clearly didn't want him here? But then Hasan turned his eyes towards him and nodded very
minutely as if giving his acceptance of the situation.

"Draco, you can't tell Professor Dumbledore or Professor Snape. No one can know about this, okay?" Hasan said.

Again, Draco nodded dumbly. "I promise, I won't!"

Luna cracked a smile. "Good. Well then I suppose we can let him in on the whole thing, right Hasan?"

"I suppose so," Hasan said apathetically. Draco couldn't discern anything from his voice. Was he happy at this turn of
events? Or was he seething? Angry that Draco had invaded his privacy...again.

"Well...Hasan had this great idea to go to the Department of Mysteries to look for a prophecy!" Luna began.

The Department of- Draco's eyes bugged out of his head. "But Amelia Bones and Moody weres-!"

"That was months ago!" Luna waved him off, as if one death and a slightly dangerous attack were of little consequence.
"Besides, they offer visitors' hours, don't they? It can't be that unsafe. Millions of people work at the Ministry everyday!"

"Well, I guess," Draco said, unconvinced.

"Draco, you're either all in or you're all out," Hasan said, meeting Draco's eyes directly.

For some illogical reason, Hasan was placing all his faith in their broken friendship on this one moment. Please say
yes, Hasan thought, even as doubt clouded the other's eyes.

"I'm in," Draco decided quickly. "Now when do you propose on doing this?" he asked.

Hasan nearly sighed out in relief.

"Who knows?" Luna shrugged. "We only thought of it today. We need to plan."

"I thought there were no dangers," Draco accused.

"I thought you were all in," Hasan countered pointedly.

"Fine, fine..." Draco glanced nonchalantly at the staff table, feeling a shiver run through him as Moody stared down at
them all, not even trying to look as if he wasn't. "But you'll let me know when you're going, right?" he asked, returning his
gaze to the two of them.

Neither appeared to have seen him glance at Moody- "Yeah, we will." –So then, why did Hasan's voice sound as sharp
as a razor's edge?

.oOo.

One Week Later.

Barty Crouch Jr. abruptly let go of his arm, sending Draco spiraling towards the throne room. The Malfoy heir resisted the
urge to clutch his injured arm like a schoolgirl, instead he chose to steady himself with dignity before making his first
grand entrance.

"For your sake, I hope you've scavenged something useful since the last time we've talked."

Draco barred his teeth, but the man had already turned around. Barty was no longer polyjuiced as the most-likely dead
auror, but bore his proper countenance. One which was ugly, scarred, and full of vicious glee. Damned b astard prob ab ly
wants me to fail, Draco muttered to himself. It would certainly work to his advantage- the Malfoys were the most loyal
family and Draco was next to take the mantle. Getting rid of the boy ensured Barty the opportunity to take his place.

Well, Draco had no intention of dying today if he could help it! He was positive that his information would be more than
enough to satisfy the Dark Lord. Even Snape, as close to Hasan as he was, didn't know Hasan like Draco did. Only
Draco had access to this information, he was sure of it.

He took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

There was a figure upon the throne, one that was between man and creature. The figure was shrouded in shadow, but
two red eyes blazed forth from the darkness like two rubies or some other fantastical stone. Draco immediately felt self-
conscious in his silly school robes. Here he was, a mere child, prepared to serve the greatest wizard of all time! Hastily,
he fell to his knees and waited.

The Dark Lord smiled in amusement. Here Draco was, but a few years younger than Lucius was when he first came to
him. And in fact, Draco was but two years younger than he was when he first decided to split his soul.

"Draco Malfoy, what a pleasure," Voldemort purred, considering the small form before him. "You have news for me, I
expect?"

"Yes, my lord!" Draco said quickly, mouth to the floor. His limbs were fast becoming cramped and he worried he wouldn't
be able to get up without stumbling first.

"Arise, my loyal servant." Voldemort smiled, eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Tell me what you have learned."

Without hesitation, Draco hurried to straighten himself, trying not to smooth down his robes or fidget too much, before
replying, "I have been observing Hasan Castell very closely these past months, my lord. I can't say he has a very striking
personality. If anything, he's awkward- terribly awkward. I don't quite know how he has managed to make friends except
that he's intelligent."

"And what of these friends?" Voldemort asked softly. "Are they useful to him in any way? What does he need them for?"

Draco licked his lips. He couldn't very well say companionship, could he? That would be worth at least one cruciatus.

"Well, my lord, he has befriended a mudblood, no doubt for her uncanny intelligence as she is unworthy in her birth. He
has also made alliances with other pureblooded families within Slytherin. I suspect he is building up his own
supporters." He wasn't sure if Hasan was consciously building an army or not, but the more Draco thought about it, the
more he began thinking it might be true. He had said it at first to impress the Dark Lord, but really, hadn't Draco thought it
odd himself when in their first year Hasan had assembled the best and brightest of all the houses?

The Dark Lord hummed in a very pleasant manner. So Harry Potter was preparing, was he? It certainly promised of a
better cat-and-mouse game when the opponent wasn't a complete idiot. His mind began to churn. It would be a game of
subtle manipulation. Of pushes and pulls, rooks and knights and castles. The question was, which pawn to use first?
What was the best first move? What could he destroy while leaving the rest intact, broken, but alive. Barely breathing.
That's how he liked his victims in the past.

Harry Potter, while fascinating, would prove to be no different. He would beg for death like the rest of them. He just
needed to know all the pawns...

"Barty Crouch Jr. has been informing me of your performance, the reason for which you have no doubt deduced by now."

Draco swallowed. "My lord?"

"He wants to steal your position, Draco," Voldemort explained with the patience of a mother ducking teaching its
ducklings to swim for the first time. His red eyes gleamed. "He wants your power. He lusts for your spot besides me
among my inner circle. And he wishes I will kill you when I have learned you have nothing more to offer than any poor
mudblood would after witnessing Hasan Castell chatting in the corridors!" Voldemort snarled, revealing ghastly white
teeth. "But I don't believe that is all you have to tell me, is it, Draco?" he continued in a soothing hum. "I can feel it
thrumming in your brain, just beneath your skull and fragile scalp. You're about ready to burst, aren't you?"

"He's planning a trip to the Department of Mysteries!" Draco blurted, before stepping back at once, terrified he had
spoken out of turn.

Voldemort's face melted into a blank mask. Draco couldn't tell if he was pleased with the news or infuriated that Hasan
was planning such a feat. "Is he?" Voldemort asked dangerously. But inside he was excited. Now this was news! Had his
visions affected the boy after all? Could he send him more? Could he, with time, develop this weapon against the boy?
Attack the mind to kill the body?

"Yes, with his girlfriend, Luna Lovegood- um, she's an odd witch who everyone thinks is a bit crazy and-"

It was impossible to think with all of Draco's inane rambling!

"CRUCIO!" the Dark Lord shouted.

Suddenly Draco was on his knees gasping as pain wracked through his body. His bloody eyeballs were on fire! Ribs,
broken and re-broken, kneecaps sliced and fused together. The Dark Lord lifted the curse lazily with a sigh. Usually the
screams of his victims calmed him, but he found the Malfoy heir only served to make an unbearable racket. And besides,
he already had a plan, didn't he? No need to totally break the Malfoy boy when the fun was just beginning…

.oOo.

Draco's eyes snapped open with a jolt as realization hit him. The Dark Lord had just crucio'd him...for ramb ling! Draco
gaped in shock as if he had just been slapped in the face. How could that man just do that to him? Draco hadn't even
done anything, let alone anything wrong! But he couldn't get angry. That was the Dark Lord for Salazar's sake!

"When are they going?" Voldemort inquired politely as if nothing had just happened.

"I d-do not know, my lord," Draco answered meekly, scared to endure another dose of pain and his inexperienced limbs
showed it, trembling violently.

The Dark Lord looked displeased at this but did not move to curse him again. Draco took this as a good sign.

"He plans to do this without Dumbledore's knowledge," Draco added hurriedly, trying to redeem himself. "And I'm to go
with him."

At this, the Dark Lord physically appeared to regard Draco favorably once more. "This is...an interesting development."
He thought a moment before adding, "You will inform me immediately when he plans to leave."

"Of course, my lord."

Voldemort looked distant for a moment, a frown gracing his malformed face. "You have done well, my servant. Far better
than I had expected, but then again, you are a Malfoy." The Dark Lord went to raise his wand, Draco shrank back
automatically, and- hang on- was that man actually amused at his reaction? Before his mind could prepare himself for
more torture, the door through which he had entered opened again to reveal Barty Crouch Jr. and Severus Snape!

"Barty, it appears your concerns were unprecedented. The boy has far more potential than I could have imagined," Lord
Voldemort informed him casually, causing Barty to stiffen. Severus watched this exchange, wondering what exactly Draco
had done to make the Dark Lord happy and not liking the possibilities. Apart from the general jumpiness of the boy, he
appeared to be unharmed. Well, that was all Severus could hope for, wasn't it? At least Draco was safe...for now.

As Draco exited the throne room with Barty Crouch Jr., Severus studied his godson's face, wondering if Draco had
chosen a side after all. Something like disappointment soured the Potion Master's mouth, but he had little time to worry
about the state of his godson. He had a Dark Lord to face.

.oOo.

"I have brought you your Rudimentary Potion, my lord." Snape said, bowing at the waist.

The Dark Lord silently summoned the potion to himself, setting it aside to take later. "I tire of this body." Voldemort began,
licking his thin lips. "I look weak! Lord Voldemort is not weak! I cannot take Rudimentary forever!"

"My lord!" Severus cautioned, preparing himself for the cruciatus. "I am in the process of preparing the Caedescorpus
Potion!"

Snape held his breath, when suddenly something slammed into his brain. Voldemort usually prided himself on subtly
sifting through people's minds, picking what he wanted from people's brains with no one the wiser, but all pretenses
were dropped when they were alone.

Severus knew Voldemort liked to legilimize him. Voldemort knew Severus knew occlumency. So why bother hiding it?

Severus brought memories of brewing over a cauldron to mind, carefully concealing the rest of his thoughts behind a
smooth wall. Voldemort doubled his efforts.

"You say you have started your brewing," the Dark Lord remarked casually as he continued his assault, "And yet, you
haven't even considered whose blood you need to use."

"My lord, you have a specific...donor in mind?" Severus questioned carefully. He knew the potion required the blood of a
servant, and he was rather looking forward to pricking Bellatrix, the insane bitch. To think that anyone else's blood would
be literally transformed into the Dark Lord's new body was slightly nauseating. To consider the Dark Lord might possibly
want his blood made him sick to his stomach.

"I want the blood of Draco Malfoy," the half-creature half-man replied with a sinister smile. "And I expect the potion to be
finished within the month."

Snape paled. He had been lying when he said he had already started brewing, and the Dark Lord knew perfectly well it
took at least three months to brew a proper Caedescorpus Potion. And besides that, how was he going to get the blood
of Draco Malfoy without royally confusing the boy at the end when all was revealed to him? Could he really let Draco
contribute to the Dark Lord's return in that way? Could he take someone else's blood? Would Voldemort even realize the
difference?

"As you wish, my Lord," Severus replied without a hint of emotion. He was beginning to worry about the implication of the
timeline. Though it took an indeterminable amount of time for the potion to work after being ingested, due to the specific
amount of damage needed to be undone for each person, the Dark Lord would be back without a doubt, with a fully
functioning humanoid body and most likely within two months.

"You are dismissed," Voldemort said harshly, watching as Snape went to leave as calmly as he had entered. "Oh- and
Severus? When I do regain my former body, I will not be summoning you. I need you to be stationed at Hogwarts.
However, you must make an excuse for Barty Crouch Jr. I have no hope that he will be able to retain his position at
Hogwarts for more than a year." Voldemort's eyes gleamed maliciously. "That is all."

Severus dipped his head that he understood before exiting. When the doors whispered shut behind the Potions Master,
Voldemort fairly ripped the stopper off the flask and downed the Rudimentary Potion with a violent shudder.

.oOo.

Dumbledore had told Severus roughly two weeks ago that he was going alone to the horcrux, but this was not entirely
true. After having poked around the cave prior to his planned excursion, he had figured out that at least two people
needed to go in order for someone to come out alive. Unfortunately, the boat he had discovered would only carry one
wizard, which left Albus in sort of a dilemma. That was, until one of the new house elves, Winky, had popped into his
office.

"Oh! Headmaster Dumbledore! Winky was not realizing you had not gone to bed yet! Winky will return later-!"

Dumbledore, who was startled out of his reverie, was suddenly struck by a most glorious idea.

"Wait a minute, if you please, Winky," Dumbledore called out before the house-elf popped away.

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"I was planning on taking a trip outside of Hogwarts in about a week and I was wondering if you had no previous
engagements, if you would accompany me or perhaps ask the other house elves if they were willing?"

Winky's batlike ears rose up in excitement as her eyeballs nearly popped out of her skull.

"You is asking poor Winky to accompany the great Albus Dumbledore?" Winky questioned in awe. "Winky agrees! Winky
will gladly accompany Headmaster Dumbledore wherever he wishes to go!"

It could not have gone smoother if Dumbledore had planned it from the very beginning. Winky had agreed and now
Dumbledore had his companion.

But that was a week ago.

"Albus!" Kingsley (who was polyjuiced as Albus) called as the headmaster stumbled into the office. Kingsley lunged
forward to lead Albus to the nearest chair, his warm hands meeting Albus' clammy ones. The headmaster was drenched
in sweat, face ghostly pale, and hands trembling. Behind him, Winky ventured inside the room. "What happened? Merlin,
Albus! You can't take risks-!"

"My dear boy!" Albus said weakly, voice cracked. "This war cannot be won without risks. We are beyond what we consider
to be proper warfare."

Kingsley swallowed, heart sinking lower and lower. Where had the headmaster been? What had he seen? Why was he
like this?

"Water?" Albus asked weakly. "Winky?"

Kingsley glanced around the office but failed to spot the house-elf. "I'll get you water," he said quickly. "Dobby?"

Another house-elf popped into the room within the second. He looked between the two headmasters but schooled his
surprise. "You is wanting something?"

"Water," Kingsley said urgently. "We need water."

Dobby nodded very seriously and disappeared with a pop. Kingsley was mildly impressed that Dobby understood the
gravity of the situation.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me where you went or why?" Kingsley asked without much faith in his queries being
answered. He had tried getting answers out of him before, but if the headmaster was anything at all, it would certainly be
secretive. Kingsley sighed. "Ah, thank you Dobby. Here, Albus."

He handed Albus the glass of water, but ended up having to place the glass within his hands as Albus was unable to
truly grasp anything at the moment. In all his auror training, Kingsley had never encountered something that could have
this effect unless it was highly illegal and extremely dark. He respected the headmaster, clearly, but as a man he was
worried. Albus wasn't exactly young anymore.

Albus drained the glass of its contents, appearing to have regained more color from it. "Thank you, Kingsley," Albus said
with a wan smile. He swallowed and thought a moment. He felt he owed at least a clue to Kingsley, but not enough
information to place him in danger. At last, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a rather peculiar locket.

In the time it took for Kingsley to study it, the polyjuice had worn off. "What is it?" Kingsley asked, "I take it that this is what
you went looking for?"

Albus nodded solemnly. "This is the locket of Salazar Slytherin. I cannot tell you much more than that."

"I respect you, Albus, so I won't press you. But I hope that this was worth it."

Albus smiled grimly. "I appreciate your help, as a friend, but if I could trouble you for one more thing. I need you to get
Neville Longbottom for me."

.oOo.

Neville Longbottom was roused from sleep at exactly midnight by a man he vaguely recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt.
He nearly had a heart attack, but recovered swiftly enough. Madame Pomfrey had released him from the Hospital Wing
just a few days ago, for precautionary observation. Yet, Albus still insisted that Neville would not be accompanying him
on his journey to the horcrux. The journey which had taken place today-er, yesterday- Neville knew.

"Is Professor Dumbledore alright?" Neville asked, worry lacing his words. He couldn't imagine anything good following
the destruction of Voldemort's soul.

"He's recovering," Kingsley said as they sped off through the corridors.

Neville swallowed uneasily. Recovering? What had happened? What had Neville not been allowed to witness?

The two sprinted up the staircase to the headmaster's office, after muttering a quick "flubbernubber" to the gargoyles,
hoping that Albus would still be alright when they got there.

"Ah! Neville!" Albus called from his chair when the two burst into the office. "Thank you, Kingsley."

Neville took in the headmaster's appearances and felt faint. The man always looked ancient, but now he looked close to
death. Perhaps he had narrowly escaped it tonight...

"A-albus, are you-?"

"I'm fine, Neville." Albus smiled pitifully. "It was actually a rather successful night all things considered." Then he turned to
Kingsley. "Thank you so much for your help, Kingsley, but I am going to have to ask you to leave."

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Albus," Kingsley said. His sharp eyes flickered from Albus to Neville to the
locket in Albus' grasp. "I wish you luck." The auror exited out the floo and it was only when the flames died down that
Dumbledore began to speak.

"I have the horcux, Neville," Albus said, letting the large locket dangle from his fingers. "I want you to be the one to destroy
it."
His piercing blue eyes locked with Neville's. "M-me?" Neville's eyebrows rose. "Why me?" Neville asked in surprise.
"You're probably- I mean- you are more able."

"But it should be you," Albus said, "You deserve this. Boy-Who-Lived or not," he whispered, "you are a true Gryffindor."

The headmaster held out his hand and the Sorting hat shot from the shelf and into his palm. Neville tilted his head. The
Sorting hat? What good would that do? But then Dumbledore reached inside the hat and suddenly something
materialized in his hand. Albus turned to him. "I present to you, Neville Longbottom, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor."

Neville gaped. His jaw went slack as the legendary sword was handed to him by the greatest wizard of all time.

"This is one of the only ways to destroy a horcrux," Albus explained as Neville grasped the hilt. It was heavier than Neville
imagined it would be, but fit perfectly inside his palm.

Albus set the locket on the table and motioned for Neville to approach.

"I will count to three," Albus told him, "On three, I want you to plunge the sword through the horcrux. Do not worry about
the table, I have charms to protect it," he added with a smile.

Neville nodded, mouth suddenly dry. It was so surreal. Boy-Who-Lived or not, Albus had said he was a true Gryffindor
and he was capable of winning this war. With newfound conviction, he lifted the sword.

"One..." Albus cleared his throat. "Two...Three!"

With an instinctual roar, Neville thrust the point of the sword straight through the heart of the locket. The goblin-forged
blade collided with the table, causing a bang to resound around the room. Was it really that easy? Somehow it seemed
less spectacular than he had thought. Glancing back at the table, all that was left of the object was two broken
halves...and was that a piece of paper?

Neville glanced at the headmaster. "Did I do it right?" he asked uncertainly.

The headmaster paused solemnly.

"The question is, did I do it right?" Albus said with a frown. Neville reached for the paper but Albus stopped him. "If it's
cursed, I have fewer years to live than you." was his only explanation as he reached for the paper, like a cruel fortune in a
fortune cookie. He read the paper once. Twice. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and tears began to leak out. Neville was
at a loss as to what to do.

Was everything for naught? Albus thought dejectedly to himself. But no! It actually meant the opposite. It was a sign of
resistance against the Dark Lord. That it was possible. That it had been done before. That there was hope.

He silently passed the note to Neville.

"To the Dark Lord,

I know I will b e dead long b efore you read this b ut I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have
stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match
you will b e mortal once more.

-R.A.B"

Neville lifted his eyes, but the weight of the world fell on his shoulders. Albus put a reassuring hand on his arm.

"We will defeat him."

.oOo.

Winky had left the headmaster's office as soon as she had found the opportunity. She knew Master Crouch, the son,
would be back any minute from his meeting with the Dark Lord, and she wanted to see him immediately to tell him of
what she had learned. Winky, being a house-elf, sensed her master's magical presence as soon as he set foot on
Hogwarts' grounds. With a snap of her long fingers, no sooner had Barty entered his office than Winky had materialized
in front of him.

Barty took a step back in surprise, then snarled at being caught by surprise. He was already in a pretty awful mood from
his meeting with the Dark Lord- Voldemort tended to have that effect on people. How dare that-that stupid Malfoy brat
show him up in front of his Lord and Master? Oh yes, Draco was competent all right, Barty had to concede, but was he
really more impressive than Barty? After all that he had suffered! Azkaban! Dementors! Familial betrayal! Waiting hand
and foot all day on their weakened Lord! Suffering the effects of Polyjuice! (Just to name a few.) Draco Malfoy for all his
heritage and riches could not even begin to comprehend all he had done! The thought that the little cretin could easily
take his place, swoop in and make a fool out of him made his blood boil.

"M-master Crouch?" Winky asked, licking her dry lips. She saw the shadow pass from his face and breathed a sigh of
relief.

He turned sharply towards her. "You have discovered something of importance?" he demanded.

"Oh yes! Yes! Winky has found something of utmost importance to Master Crouch! Winky has been finding out what
Headmaster Dumbledore has been up to and Winky has discovered he has found a locket!"

Barty's hand came over his face. "A-a locket?" he asked, voice curiously calm.

"YES!" Winky squealed happily. But in the very next second, all she knew was black as Barty punched her squarely in the
face and stormed out of the office. Stupid, useless house-elf, he fumed. He was so exasperated with the way the day had
turned out. It was time to put Draco in his place. Once and for all.

Upon storming down to the dungeons, Barty- (disguised as Moody)- received quite a few curious stares. Everyone knew
Professor Moody to be quite erratic and violent in class but never had they seen him storming about in the corridors.
They didn't question it though, figuring that Snape and Moody were old chums being the most hated teachers in the
school-their well-known roles as ex-Death Eater and celebrated Auror completely ignored.

Although Barty and Draco had come back to Hogwarts together, they entered at different locations and ten minutes apart
as to not arouse suspicion. So though Barty had no concrete evidence that Draco was in the Potions Master's domain,
Barty could guess. And besides, he was curious too about what his glorious Lord could have said to the bastard that
was Severus Snape.

He didn't even need to knock twice when the door opened slightly, letting him inside. He surveyed the room quickly,
noticing the way Draco's shoulders were shaking slightly even as he tried to hold them back and proud. Snape was
handing him some sort of potion, one for the after-effects of the cruciatus, but Barty didn't know that.

"You wished to see us?" Severus asked in a rather bored tone, not even deigning to look up from his patient and into
Barty's face.

Barty nodded once harshly. "I came to see how Mr. Malfoy was handling his first experience as the Dark Lord's servant."
In his robe sleeve he fingered his wand, pointing it slightly in Draco's direction. Just a word. Just two little words. A bit of
torture. A risk of death...

"Fine as ever," Draco answered just as impudently as always. But Snape, who had known him for years and was also
staring directly in his face, could see the slight tremors in his hands and knew that he was anything but fine.

"Did you actually have a purpose in coming here other than to see Draco crumble?" Severus asked cuttingly, inviting the
man to escort himself out.

Barty barred his teeth. "I suppose you think you're hot stuff, don't you Snape? Being able to brew all those potions when it
was I- is I who must administer them to our Lord!"

Snape smiled grimly, "I think my looks are mediocre at best but I'm flattered at the compliment." He could feel Draco
tensing in front of him but knew the best way to help him was to remove Barty from their vicinity as soon as possible.

Barty raised his wand, still aimed for Malfoy's wildly beating heart, when with an undignified yelp, his wand flew out of his
stinging hand and arched in the air towards Snape.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Severus said, fixing him with a piercing black glare for the first time since he had entered
the room. "The Dark Lord," he began in a loud, lecturing tone, "intends to reward Draco for his loyalty...in participating in
his Resurrection."

"He what-?" Draco and Barty exclaimed at the same moment, each wearing similar masks of horror, though for very
different reasons.

Snape hated doing this to Draco right now, but it was more than satisfying to take Barty down a peg or two. "Yes," Snape
continued in that condescending tone of his. "Our Lord has specifically requested that it is Draco's blood I use in the
Caedescorpus Potion and if something were to happen to Draco now, well…" Snape let his words trail off as his eyes
blazed anew. "You understand, I'm sure." He smirked at the stunned expression on Barty's face. He looked thoroughly
chastised, cowed, and envious, but not exactly remorseful. He did have enough brain power to get the gist though: kill
Draco and you're a dead man too.

Barty swallowed, struggling to get his anger under control. He envied the way Severus could threaten him without batting
an eyelash and the way Draco managed to find a Malfoy-worthy smirk and slap it on his damn little face in time to
witness his utter humiliation.

"Yes, that does seem to speak volumes, doesn't it, Mr. Crouch?" Draco said sweetly. And though Barty Crouch hung his
tail between his legs and ran with a scowl after Snape had tossed him back his wand, Snape could see the cracks in
Draco's veneer. They were hidden behind a blank face, a wary face, a tired face. Snape just hoped it wouldn't crack until
the precise moment when the truth would come pouring out to heal the wounds. It wouldn't do for him to get killed should
he crack before then.

Severus knew these were high hopes.

A/N: So what did you guys think? Voldemort? Barty Crouch Jr.? Neville? What do you think will happen at this
upcoming Department of Mysteries extravaganza? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews make me happy.
Happiness leads to updates!

(Thanks to all my great reviewers too! You guys rock!)

Remvis-Daphne/Neville might be on the table ;)

EndlessChains-Thanks so much!

pinks99- I will go fix that now, thanks!

Nagilover4ever- Thanks for your support!

JPElles- Thank you!

ProdigyPsycho-Thank you so much! You're too kind!

Guest-You attention to detail really impressed me! I will go back and fix it!

Gyuchin- Thanks so much! Yeah, the ages aren't that realistic, but what in HP is? Think of this as my very fantastical
sandbox

Guest- I will update as soon as possible!

E- I AM definitely continuing this story, have no fear!

*Chapter 36*: The Return of Emerald
A/N- It's been a while. I am happy to say I am nearly finished school! Anyway, here is the chapter for which this story
is named. I hope it does not disappoint.

This chapter is dedicated to lastcrazyhorn who has supported me in this story! Thank you lastcrazyhorn, please go
read their stories!

Also, the 888th review triggers the one update every Friday deal. Go go go!

"I'm speaking of stories that begin

Where some will leave their blood

Where children must grow up too fast

And words freeze time"

-Prince Arthur by Coeur de Pirate

Return of Emerald

Chapter 36: The Return of Emerald

Altair Castell sat in his little house in France, sipping a warm cup of tea in his dining room. The post had just flown in
and Altair was eager to see if his son had sent any interesting news. It really was so lonely out here...

Altair sorted through the mail and froze as he uncovered the Malfoy family crest on a heavy cream-coloured envelope.
Lucius...Altair swallowed as he opened the letter.

"A. Castell,

Does the word horcrux mean anything to you?

Lucius Malfoy"

Oh dear...Altair set his tea down and sank into the high-backed wooden chair. He could just imagine the type of
exasperated betrayal in the man's voice, the tone which made him want to curl up and hide because he had done
something wrong. Because he had. He had effectively blackmailed his ex-lover with stolen memories into doing his dirty
work for him. But it was for a good cause, Altair tried to tell himself. It was for Hasan, for Harry.

And gleaming unprotected on his shelves, now that his son was safe at Hogwarts, were the fruits of their combined
labor: the Ring of Gaunt, Slytherin's Locket, Ravenclaw's Diadem, and Hufflepuff's Cup. It worried him to know that his
own son had had the tiara in his bag for a while and it was also a concern that he had but four horcruxes out of seven
and, of course, it was a concern that Lucius had finally caught on. Had just...figured it all out like a puzzle.

Altair Castell was not sure if he should feel elated or very very depressed. In fact, his body trembled as his hands shook.
His normally elegant cursive was reduced to mediocre scrawl.

"Lucius,

We need to talk.

Altair"

.oOo.

"Give me your arm." Snape commanded, conjuring a vial with his wand.

Draco snapped out of his cool veneer to look at him with utter surprise. "It's really true then?" he sputtered. He was
unsure if he felt honored or nauseated as Snape quirked an eyebrow at him.

Soundlessly, Draco offered his arm, trying not to wince as Snape clinically pressed a thin surgeon's knife to his vein,
causing a bead of blood to form there.

"Isn't there a spell or something?" Draco asked weakly as the wound started to sting.

Severus' lips quirked up in amusement. "What? Can't handle a little pain, Draco?"

The boy opened his mouth to protest but promptly shut it. He didn't appreciate being ridiculed by his godfather. He had to
know being sliced open wasn't a pleasant experience.

"Oh, do stop being so melodramatic," Severus sighed as he regarded Draco's paling face. "I'm not really trying to cause
you pain. Although there are more...humane methods of drawing blood, this ritual, as you could have guessed (had you
put any effort into it), is not a humane one. It calls for a sacrifice and sacrifices are not pleasant, regardless of
willingness."

Draco licked his lips. "He's really coming back then?" he asked hoarsely.

Snape gave him an inscrutable stare. "What made you think otherwise?" he questioned.

Draco shrugged.

"Is it perhaps that the Dark Lord isn't all you have imagined?"

Draco remained silent.

Snape inwardly sighed. The boy was clearly feeling uncomfortable about this new prospect and would probably melt
under all of the new developments. Draco was helping a madman resurrect himself for Salazar's sake. This was not an
act done lightly.

"How long until this potion is ready?" Draco enquired tonelessly.

"Three months." Snape answered, sealing up the vial and cleaning the wound.

"How long until he comes back?" Draco asked.

"One."

"But-!"

Snape raised his eyebrow. "You are free to go, Mr. Malfoy."

With a slight trembling in his limbs, Draco walked out of the office with as much dignity as he could muster. There was
no sign that his godfather had taken blood at all, except for the slight tingling in his forearm. He could easily pretend that
he had not just given his life force to the Dark Lord, but he had and the implications were unknown. One thing was for
certain, his place in the Dark Lord's inner circle was secure. His parents would be so proud and what was more, he had
triumphed over Barty Crouch Jr...

.oOo.

Hasan woke up with a start, sweat drenched his hair, causing it to cling around his pale face. He had dreamed of the
Department of Mysteries again, except this time he was led down an alternative hallway leading to a room with a
fluttering Veil in the center of it. His dream-self had stepped right up to wispy fabric, before he began to hear voices, and
more than voices, Hasan began to see the misty forms of people. Before he knew it, he was staring across the veil at Lily
Potter, her beautiful auburn hair in elegant waves, James Potter, his characteristically messy hair and glasses making
Hasan jump back, and then everyone behind them. All the ancestors of Harry Potter. All of them...

And the strength in his legs dissipated and his legs crumbled to useless sticks beneath him, and he fell to the ground in
tears. Hasan prided himself on his separation from Harry Potter. He prided himself on his ability to escape. His
ambiguity. He loved his freedom.

So then, why was this veil bringing back all of those emotions? Lily's face smiled down on him, lovely and radiant, but
gentle and soft like the moon. His longing doubled. It finally struck him that he had never seen his mother. That he could
not remember much of what she looked like, except for the glimpses he caught when the dementors came near. How
pathetic was that?

No one knew who he was, but if they had, would they shower him with relics of his parents? Even articles and books
which were written about Harry Potter: The Boy-Who-Lived had limited pictures of his parents, and then they were always
the same ones. The same nice familial pose. But there was nothing to indicate what life could have been like. No
wedding photos, no family albums, no...his tears came in torrents down his face.

Was this what he was supposed to see in the Mirror of Erised? Why was this a desire only secondary to his need to
hide? There was something wrong with him, wasn't there? There was something wrong...He raised his tear-streaked
face to meet his mother's once more. She held out her hand. One glistening hand and Hasan reached...

In the split second before his hand met hers, her emerald green eyes flashed scarlet, and the apparition suddenly
lunged out of the veil with fangs bared and dripping in blood. Hasan had just enough time to roll back as his 'mother'
was sucked back into the veil by some unknown force. A cold, high-pitched laughter resonated throughout the room.

"Oh, poor little Harry Potter..." and the Dark Lord's cackling continued as he was torn from his dreamscape.

Now awake, Hasan used his Protean ring to call out to Luna as he walked shakily to the Great Hall. If they were going to
go down to the Department of Mysteries, they had better do some research first. How many rooms were down there?
Were all of them like that? Was there even such a room? As he walked, he thought he felt the Veil caress him...

Luna caught up to him just outside the Great Hall like he had asked her to.

"What is it, Hasan?" Luna queried, concern shining in her silver eyes. "Did you hear the banshee this morning too?"

Hasan gave her a small smile, but it was empty with worry. "I want to research the Department of Mysteries," he
whispered, "You don't mind, do you?"

She shook her head. "That's a very insightful idea," she agreed. "But I doubt the headmaster would just leave those
books lying around in the library. Even their presence in the Restricted Section is doubtful."

Hasan leaned in closer, "I'm talking about the Chamber of Secrets, Luna."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle at that. "No basilisk this time, I hope."

Hasan grinned, "Absolutely not. Although I did pick up this snake..."

.oOo.

Daphne frowned as Hasan had yet to show up at breakfast. Tracey was doing a Transfiguration project with Pansy and
Draco looked a bit volatile this morning. Sighing, she made her way over to the Gryffindor table, where Theo was eating
with Hermione.

"Daphne!" Theo smiled, "What brings you to the sunny side of town?"

"Nothing much," Daphne smiled, "I guess I just missed you and Hermione."

With a quick polite smile, Daphne began to fill her plate. She noticed that Ron, Ginny, and Lavender were no longer at the
table- as they were serving detention with Filch every weekend morning until the end of the school year. Dumbledore had
not been particularly happy to know the truth behind Neville's injuries.

"Where's Neville?" Daphne asked presently, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice as she noticed his
absence.

"Hmm, I think I remember Dumbledore calling him up to his office...but that was a while ago." Hermione frowned,
sneaking a glance at the head table. "He should be back by now."

Daphne got a sinking feeling in her gut. Something was off here, maybe not dangerous, but something was definitely
wrong. She knew the headmaster was trying to train Neville to take up the Boy-Who-Lived mantle and she knew that
Neville was suffering under the responsibility. But why would he need Neville now, during breakfast?

Daphne turned the corner to the headmaster's office, when Neville came barreling down the hall towards her.

"Neville?" Daphne asked softly, "Is everything-?" But as Neville ran past her, she imagined she saw tears shining in his
eyes. Her heart melted and she was going to run after him when she heard the voices of McGonagall and Augusta
Longbottom emerging from the office. Acting purely on her Slytherin instincts, she pressed herself to the wall and waited
in silence.

"They were doing so well!" Augusta cried softly, the sound muffled by perhaps the cloth on McGonagall's shoulder.
"It's not your fault," the professor soothed. "We had no idea that there would be a relapse, even a possibility of one. No
one could have-"

"But I could have taken Neville to see them more often!" Augusta confided. "I take him once every holiday, but I always feel
as if it tears him up inside. His mother always tries to give him things, scraps of things, trifling nothings! And he would
always try to pocket them and- Merlin! I would never let him! I told him to throw all those scraps of trash out! I thought it
would be unhealthy for him to be reminded too often. I made him toss out all those wrappers! I made him!" Augusta
sobbed. "I made him…"

Minerva pursed her lips. "We may never know how it feels to be Mr. Longbottom, but I know he loves you and won't hold
that against you."

Great sobs racked the grandmother's body as she leaned on Minerva, her old friend.

"It will be alright, Augusta. I'm so sorry. For him and for you."

Daphne had heard enough. She crept away from the hall and then went sprinting down the hall. She caught a glimpse of
his retreating figure near the back door. He swung it open and tore outside. Daphne followed Neville as he ran through
the snow flurries to the greenhouse. The cold bit her as she ran, but nothing would not deter her from her task.

"Neville!" she cried after him. "Neville!"

He reached the greenhouse door and turned around, stunned that there was indeed a person behind him. He didn't
want to be pursued, not really. He just needed to be alone for a bit. His hand rattled the copper doorknob and it opened.
He backed inside. Daphne stood frozen in the cold, unsure of what to do now.

"Come on, it's cold," Neville's voice came softly, sneezing at the end of it.

Daphne gratefully stepped into the sauna-like warmth before turning to the boy. Her eyes scanned him for injuries first.
She took in his running nose- which could have been from the cold- his red puffy eyes- which were certainly not- and his
shaking limbs- which could have been from many things.

"Neville..." Daphne began, her voice shaking. What was she thinking? She was not intimate enough with Neville to
broach the subject of his parents' decline. She was not even sure she knew the exact situation correctly. "So you've heard
then?" Neville asked. "Was it announced in the Prophet? Boy-Who-Lived's Parents to Die?"

"Oh Neville..." Daphne's voice broke off, her heart reaching out to him. She wasn't stupid. She knew the stories: Bellatrix
had tortured Neville's parents into insanity, but they had been fine up until now, right? Like vegetables...But she could see
now that it had been absolutely not fine. Just because they hadn't been in the public eye for quite some time didn't mean
they weren't in Neville's eyes. It never occurred to her that during those years Neville had suffered seeing them, how they
were unable to remember him. "I'm so sorry," Daphne murmured brokenly, regretting her lack of insight. Ashamed she
had been ignorant...

"Yeah, me too," Neville said, clearing his throat. "I never expected them to recover, you know, but I never expected them to
get worse either...You know why they declined? Because I didn't visit enough! Because they can't remember me!"

"Neville, you know that's not true!" Daphne said with conviction, although she was unsure of it herself.

"It is, the doctors said so. They lost their will to live and now..." he took a deep steadying breath. "It's because they can't
remember anyone who loves them. They don't recognize me. They barely even acknowledge Gran. If I had been there. If
they had remembered me, they wouldn't want to leave me! Would they? They wouldn't want to leave me..."

"But that's not your fault, Neville. It's Bellatrix's, the Dark Lord's," Daphne tried helplessly.

"Yeah, and I'm their failure of a son who can't figure out how to defeat Him!" Neville sniffed, frowning bitterly. "If I weren't
such a weakling I could get revenge. But I am. Even with all of Dumbledore's help I can't even defend myself from my
peers."

He's thinking of that day in Hogsmeade, Daphne realized with a jolt. He's not rational. He's mixing his emotions.

"I should just go," Neville sniffed again. "My parents don't think I exist. The world thinks they know who I am, but they don't.
Not really," he had come close to revealing Dumbledore's stratagem there, "I can't defend myself. Gran only loves me for
heroic deeds that I didn't even do! I should just go."

Daphne looked at her clenched hands. "I'll go with you." Daphne said firmly.
"Oh, I don't think you want to do that." Neville said with façade of self-control. Daphne stared at him confusedly.

"Well why not?...You're not-" Daphne gaped at him as realization dawned. "You can't possibly think-"

"I'm sorry I can't be stronger for everyone." Neville said, new tears springing into his eyes. "Maybe I'll even be able to greet
my parents..."

Daphne wasn't sure what made her do it, but a resounding slap echoed throughout the greenhouse, accompanied by
their rather harsh breathing.

"How dare you just give up like that!" she shrieked. "You have no idea how many people are relying on you!"

"Yeah, as the Boy-Who-"

"Shut up, Neville! Just shut up!" Daphne shrieked, backing him up into the table, causing the edge to cut into the back of
his legs. "To your friends, you idiot! We'd all miss you! Tracey, Draco, Hasan, Me! Not to mention all your little Gryffindor
friends!"

"They don't understand, once they learn the truth-"

"Didn't I just tell you to SHUT UP?" Daphne screamed. "This isn't about living because of obligation. This is about not
letting V-voldemort win. He wins if you kill yourself, Neville. You owe it to yourself to survive." She took a deep breath and
began more gently, "The world might not know who you are, but I do." Daphne said. "You're not the Boy-Who-Lived."

"What-?" he sputtered, honestly taken aback. "What do you-?"

"You're not," she said again, more confidently this time. "And your Gran will love you all the same. She has to."

They were nose to nose, Daphne's eyes boring into his. Neville cleared his throat and turned his face away. "And do
you?" he asked.

Daphne peered at him, understanding that Neville was fishing for compliments but was also emotionally unstable. His
breath was coming out all ragged and his face was beginning to take on a flushed hue.

Daphne swallowed. She was unsure of her feelings also, but knew that whatever she was feeling was unadulterated.
She bent down and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. She pulled away just as abruptly, feeling the atmosphere in the
room heat up.

His face was still glued to hers, eyes wide and so shamefully innocent. He seemed to ask why not more. He wanted
more. He wanted someone to hold him.

"I don't like tears with my kisses," she explained sharply. "Come on, let's get you back to the castle. I'm sure your Gran is
worried sick."

Her brain was no longer calculating. It was a flurry of emotion. Had she unknowingly committed to something she could
not keep? She could not be Neville's raison d'etre. He had to survive on his own two feet, but glancing back at him, she
was sure she had done the right thing. He had been betrayed and used so many times he needed a large shove of
something genuine for once. But that was too genuine. Her first kiss, used as nothing more than a manipulator's tool.
But for a cause, she thought to herself. For Neville's life.

And Neville's head, of course, was empty as he trailed behind the apparent love of his life. Except perhaps for the soft
mantra: She slapped me. She kissed me.

.oOo.

Hasan led Luna down to the Chamber of Secrets once again. Melusine was there to greet them with a great flick of her
tail, indicating her joy at their arrival.

:Melusine, this is Luna Lovegood.:

:Your lover?: Melusine asked amused.

Hasan flushed and pointedly ignored her. "Luna, Salazar's study is this way."

:Touchy subject?: Melusine teased.

:Shut up. Are there any books on the Department of Mysteries down here?:

:Silly boy, don't you know that Salazar is older than your Ministry of Magic?:

Hasan paused. He hadn't thought of that.

"What is it?" Luna asked, clearly comfortable having Hasan talk to a giant snake beside them.

"I just remembered that the Department of Mysteries is quite recent compared to, er, Salazar." Hasan flushed,
embarrassed at the oversight.

"But isn't the Department dedicated to researching ancient things? The bell jar of time for instance isn't exactly a modern
artifact."

Hasan nodded appreciatively.

:Your mate is intelligent.: Melusine remarked, :Yes, there might be some interesting tomes to look at after all.:

Hasan gave both a broad smile. "Thanks you guys."

"So what did you want to look for, Hasan?" Luna queried. "The Department is really large. I've heard that Unspeakables
are only allowed in their own section and aren't allowed to speak to other Unspeakables about their section."

"That seems a bit suspicious, don't you agree?" Hasan asked.

Luna nodded. "That's why father did an article on them in The Quibbler. Did you know that the Veil-" Hasan started-"is a
portal to the Land of the Dead? Yes, I was intrigued too. We went there when I was little with a visitors' pass, but the
actual Death Chamber was sealed off from public view. Unfortunate really. I would have liked to hear my mother's voice
again."

Hasan shivered very violently as he took in what she was saying. "The Veil leads to death?" he whispered. "What
happens when you go through it? You die, don't you?"

"I would imagine so." Luna said thoughtfully, peering at him. "Are you quite well, Hasan? Do you still want to research
this topic?"

"Yes, of course." Hasan said. "I- I'm fine. I just had a nightmare."

Luna frowned and continued on ahead. "We better get started then."

Halfway through research, Hasan developed a pounding headache. There was little to nothing on the Veil in any of the
books, which surprised him as Slytherin was always associated with murderers. Why wouldn't their leader be fascinated
with death?

"Hasan, are you sure you're alright?" Luna asked worriedly. "You look awfully pale."

Hasan passed a hand over his tired face. "Sorry, just a lot of information." Useless information, but information
nonetheless.

"What was your nightmare about?" Luna asked, effectively catching him off guard.

"My nightmare?" Hasan repeated tonelessly.

Luna nodded. "I can put two and two together, you know."

Hasan sighed in defeat. "Alright, you got me. I dreamed about the Department of Mysteries again."

"Again?" Luna exclaimed. She knew he had dreamed about them before, but now she wondered why. Hasan had never
been there that she knew of.

"Yeah. Usually I'm in the Hall of Prophecy, but last night I dreamed about the Death Chamber...I saw my parents for the
first time, Luna. It was- I was in awe."

"You said it was a nightmare." Luna remarked perceptively.

"Because the Dark Lord tried to drag me into the Veil." Hasan shivered. "And before he came, I actually wanted to step
through myself."

Luna sighed. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be with you loved ones, Hasan. It's natural. But they wouldn't want
you to join them. Not yet."

"Yeah, I know all that." Hasan sighed. "But now you know why I look so terrible," he smiled.

"Not as bad as Voldemort," Luna returned.

.oOo.

Albus Dumbledore sat in thought with his fingertips steepled. Augusta, Minerva, and Neville had just exited his office in
tears and Albus felt terrible. Nothing could crumble a kid like the death of his parents. What was worse was that
Dumbledore with all his knowledge could not heal them. The minds of Frank and Alice Longbottom were lost to insanity,
unsalvageable. And his hero might now be too.

He let Minerva escort Mrs. Longbottom off the grounds because they had known each other since childhood. Albus was
still amazed how the two women were able to pick each other up. Albus had no one.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He glanced at Fawkes over his half-moon spectacles, but frowned as he observed the
greying feathers. While greying was a natural process of age, Fawkes did not simply grey in his supposed prime. Albus
had Severus, Hagrid, and Poppy look the bird over, but even Hagrid was at a loss for unusual methods of healing. They
all looked at him concernedly, as if he were finally losing his marbles, and asked if he had changed Fawkes diet at all.
Well, not that he was aware of, but he had summoned a house-elf and Dobby had said everything was fine and normal.

The only thing that could possibly affect this immortal beast was magic, but Fawkes was not a part of any spell he could
think of and so Albus was forced to concede that perhaps this was just a phase and he would return to his normal
coloring in time.

With a sigh, Albus turned his attention to the rolled up Daily Prophet on his desk. It had lain ignored in light of Augusta's
frantic news, and now it seemed that he should get down to reading it. He smoothed over the front and read the
headline: Time Turner Taken: Ministry Accident or Terrorist Group? Albus frowned. He did intend to call Voldemort's
attention to the Hall of Prophecy, but this did not sound like the work of Voldemort. Call it wishful thinking, but Albus was
sure Voldemort had enough knowledge of the old ways to know tinkering with time was likely to throw the world into
oblivion. Albus glanced at the author. Rita Skeeter, of course. It was probably a Ministry accident then. They were known
to happen, and as the world was at relative peace, Rita had to fabricate a story out of nothing.

Albus could only pity her.

Then, out of nowhere, Fawkes began to sing. He did so when he was particularly happy about something, or right before
he burst into flames, but he did no such thing. He simply sang. It was a tune which Albus had never heard before but
which sounded vaguely familiar. It wasn't particularly happy, but neither was it sad. It sounded...anxious. As if he were
waiting for something grand to happen very soon. And still, Fawkes did not burst into flames, and his plumage greyed a
little more...

.oOo.

Lucius Malfoy was not particularly fond of venturing into unknown territory on the fragile word of a potential enemy, but
Lucius had already risked enough. An invitation for tea was hardly something to worry about.

He knocked.

The door opened slightly, revealing one brilliantly blue eye. Thick brown hair fell down the broad shoulders, bordering a
weary face.

"Won't you come in, Lucius?" Altair asked, his heavy brown eyebrows quirking in amusement.

Lucius walked stiffly into the Castell Estate, unsure of what to do. He could not keep his eyes off the man named Altair. It
was impossible. The man walked with grace, yet bumped constantly into tables and chairs. He also spoke in a smooth,
commanding voice, but ended with a question mark at the end of each phrase. In short, the master puppeteer was just
as uncomfortable as he.

"Allow me to formally introduce myself." Altair began as he set the tea tray down. "My name is Altair Dean Castell. I live in
France. My son is Hasan. And you are?"
"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy." Lucius said stiffly. "I don't know anything else anymore."

"Care to elaborate?" Altair asked, carefully meeting the man's eyes.

"My memories have been stolen. What more is there to elaborate?" Lucius replied silkily.

Lucius was unable to comprehend the man in front of him, but then, there was no apparent need to. He had this
overwhelming feeling of being safe here, which was curious if not important.

"You know about horcruxes?" Altair asked finally, tearing his eyes away from Lucius' steel grey ones.

"I believe that's what I wrote to you."

"How?" Altair asked simply.

"Why should I tell you anything?" Malfoy sneered. "You haven't exactly been transparent with me."

Altair seemed to deflate, but then he looked at his nails. "Well, I assumed you had something you wanted to talk about.
Otherwise you would never have ventured into unknown territory on a daft man's word, especially one who could be a
potential enemy."

Lucius was gobsmacked. "Did you just legilimize me?" he demanded, trying to keep the rage from his voice. Come on,
Lucius, where's that Malfoy dignity?

"No, it was written plainly on your face. You get a wrinkle by your right eye when you feel uncomfortable." Altair smiled
lightly.

Lucius appeared affronted. How dare this man know more about him than he did! "You're right. I do want to
talk...Dumbledore gave me a curious note from Regulus Black which was inside a locket I clearly recognized, no thanks
to you. But it lacked any of the Dark Power I would have sensed immediately. It was, in short, a fake."

Altair hummed. "Regulus, you say? He was Sirius' brother. Maybe that's what he meant when he said he needed
Kreacher to accompany him. Yes, I see it now."

"See what?" Lucius growled. "I fail to see any logic in any of your mutterings."

"Ah, forgive me. Albus found the locket in a cave, correct?"

"Yes, how did you-"

"Regulus talked about travelling to the cave with his house elf, Kreacher. This was the day before he died. He went to
replace the horcrux with a fake."

"How do you know this?" Lucius asked, eyes guarded. His rage was quickly yielding to amazement as this man brought
all the puzzle pieces together.

"I hear things." Altair said simply, leaning back. "Now, that you've answered my questions, I'll answer one of yours."

And suddenly Lucius went from cool and collected to a whirlwind of accusations, each one threatening to spill from his
lips. All formulated into one simple word.

"Why?"

Altair gave him a grim smile before summoning something from the other room. At first, Lucius was not sure what it was
for it came so fast. But then Altair held it out to him.

"This is yours, I believe."

And he held in his hands the Malfoy dagger. Lucius was stunned into silence once more. This anomaly just kept
spreading before him in infinite mysteries. This man had his dagger? How? Why? Who had given it to him? But that was
answered easily by the way Altair looked at him with tenderness in his eyes and the way Lucius' heart raced without
memory or meaning.

"Take it," Altair said. "I've hung onto this long enough. It belongs to you." As does my heart.

Lucius reached forward, their fingers brushed each other's, and then Lucius was shaking. All over from head to toe.
Magic poured from his core and into the object and from the object into his core. The magic began to pulsate wildly
around the estate, expanding from the dagger and from Lucius himself.

"What's wrong?" Altair asked, immediately at his side. The dagger was empty, devoid of all memories to Altair's
knowledge. They were in Hasan now, so what was affecting Lucius so deeply? Maybe there was something else still in
the dagger. A reminiscence of emotion, a stroke of tenderness. A curled lock, a soft kiss...

Lucius shut his eyes against the torrent of emotion that suddenly flowed into him. It was his own love, he realized, and
he had once given it to this man. The thought was...enough to cause his self to shatter.

"I need to leave," Lucius choked out, his voice cracking. He knew he needed this. He had to go. He wanted to run.
"I...think I understand," he said. "I will endeavor to help you and your son, even if I don't yet understand everything. I
believe your intentions are good."

Altair nodded sadly. He did not want to see his love go, but the euphoria in knowing that Lucius finally knew what he felt
for him was more than enough. The feeling that someone else shared this knowledge, that it didn't exist in an alternate
reality of his memories. Altair's own magic flared suddenly, causing the room to shake.

"Thank you, Lucius. I hope I will be able to see you once more."

"I- I do too. Maybe when the war is over."

"Maybe…"

Altair smiled sadly, his eyes glistening for some unknown reason. He escorted Lucius to the door and locked it softly
behind him. When he heard the crack of Lucius's apparation, Altair sunk to the floor.

"I love you." he whispered. But there was no response. And all his love had left with that man in the dagger. It was the
least he could do. Lucius couldn't remember but he could feel, and now Altair couldn't feel but he could remember...but
Altair could feel. The giant gap in his body, the missing hole in his mind. He slept on the floor that night, hair wet with
tears, like the night he downed that potion so long ago...

.oOo.

It was during dinner when Severus first noticed that Moody had disappeared. He had been keeping a close watch on him
all day after waking up to see his own dark mark inflamed. And then of course, Severus had delivered the resurrection
potion a month ago, but when Voldemort did not immediately use it, Snape was helpless to wait in constant anxiety. The
Dark Lord had not the courtesy to give his servants a fair warning. But now, Snape had gained his first clue. Moody had
been summoned. He caught Dumbledore's eye over a plate of mashed potatoes and forced the thoughts of the Dark
Lord's resurrection to the forefront of his mind before hurling them out.

Albus blinked and started a bit from the impact, but then he paled drastically and nodded his comprehension. The Dark
Lord was to return.

Tonight.

The mark began to tingle on Severus' arm as he stood up. He had taken all the potions he could for the Dark Mark, but
there was little that could be done to staunch the constant flow of pain. The pain began to mount. He began to descend
from the head table, trying to keep his face collected the whole time. His eyes flickered to Hasan who was now staring at
him with his wide jade eyes, his brown hair falling down his shoulders like a curtain. He too was feeling vulnerable.

And then many things happened at once.

Fawkes flew into the room, a shrill warning emitted from his beak, feathers bursting into flame one by one. Albus jumped
to his feet, knowing that Fawkes had sensed what was to come. And then Severus Snape, in front of the entire school,
released a blood curdling scream and fell to his knees. Everyone was stunned into silence, watching their terrifying
Potions Professor, the man who could cut anyone down, writhe in agony in the very center of the school. There was no
visible tormentor and this was what worried everyone most. No one can fight an unseen enemy. But he was not
screaming alone. At first, everyone wondered where the second voice had come from, but then someone must have
spotted him. The boy.

Draco watched in horror as first his godfather crumbled, and then his best friend, Hasan Castell, flung his head back,
and exposed his face to the world. Draco, who was sitting nearer to him than anyone else, identified some sort of
obscure shape on his forehead from which the blood began to leak, and began to hyperventilate. What was happening?
He knew his godfather bore the Dark Mark, but why was Hasan screaming too? His entire face inflamed, and his voice.
Oh, Salazar, his voice! Raw with no intention of letting up. Was this somehow his doing? He had helped the Dark Lord
return to his corporeal body after all. Draco felt the bile rise.

Albus was frozen in place as he cradled his baby Fawkes- not a grey chick, but a brilliantly flaming one- watching as
suddenly, Snape rose to his feet, his apparent torture over and sprinted over to the other.

The blood continued to seep from Hasan's forehead, flowing outward, seeming to coat his whole entire face and soak
into his hair. The emotions, the memories! Hasan could feel Voldemort's delight. His utter glee at getting his body back.
The pain of being ripped in two! He was slipping. Hasan Castell, for the first time, was slipping. His grip, his footing, his
magic, his power...

Draco watched as the blood saturated Hasan's hair, not realizing at first as Hasan's head began to shift. His hair
receded back into his scalp and turned an inky, black, unruly as it stuck up in certain places. Then Snape was by his
side, and he was digging his fingernails into Hasan's arm. And Hasan was still screaming, the pain literally eating at his
very core. All magic used to sustain his appearance snapped and withered as it went to combat this unknown force
instead.

The world began to panic.

"What's happening?"

"His hair!"

"His face! It's changing!"

And then the screaming stopped. It took Hasan a minute to figure out that it was himself who had finally shut his mouth.
Hasan shrank back into the supportive arms, his head disoriented. He turned to find Severus staring back at him with
nothing but concern in those onyx depths. And then Hasan stood shakily and faced the headmaster of the school, his
emerald green eyes blazing like the fire that had just consumed Fawkes. The staff blinked in wonder, their jaws hanging
open. All eyes were on him.

There was distant ringing in his ears, and then someone screamed it, the secret which Hasan had guarded with his life.
Everyone was staring, at his hair, at his brilliant emerald eyes, at the scar that marked him for life.

Because there revealed was the bloodied face of Harry Potter.

A/N- PLEASE REVIEW! Did you expect the ending? What about Neville and Daphne? Will Neville's parents survive? Is
Lucius going to abandon Narcissa? Will Draco pick a side?

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story! To my darling readers, I hope you enjoy what is to come. I am in
the process of finishing the final chapters. They shall be up before the summer is over. All my love, BT.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Also, the 888th review triggers the one update every Friday deal. Go go go!
*Chapter 37*: In Turmoil
A/N- Hello everybody! Thank you for those brilliant reviews! I am deeply honored and very happy that so many people
are interested/still interested in this crazy story. I'm finally out for the summer, thank the gods. I intend to write as
much as I can while I'm down the shore. Hopefully you will all enjoy what comes out of this week.

Thank yous are on the bottom as well as a wonderful offer: The 888th review will trigger the one update every
Friday deal...Go go go!

Enjoy!

"No matter how many times I tell them that I'm normal,

That I'm not missing any part

That I have trouble dealing with the way people treat me,

Like if I were at war

That I'm sheepish,

that I don't like being stared at..."

-Lili by Diam's

Return of Emerald

Chapter 37: In Turmoil

Hasan was not sure who had uttered it first, but once it was said, there was no taking it back.

"THAT'S HARRY POTTER?"

"Did you take a look at his scar?"

Hasan tuned them out with difficulty as he stared at the headmaster with blazing emerald eyes.

"M-my boy...!" Albus, for the first time in many years, was speechless. Fawkes let out a contented little squawk and
looked at him too. "We had thought...we had...we had lost you." The last part was said in a whisper, but there was no
mistaking the fat, wet tears that poured from the man's blue eyes.

"We need to go somewhere private," Snape grunted from behind him, voice laced with pain. For a moment, Hasan had
almost forgotten that Snape had suffered too.

Albus nodded in accession. Slowly, Hasan followed him out with Snape at his side, feeling the weight of everyone's
stares at his back. He could just hear as the double doors shut behind them, the higher-than-normal voice of Professor
Minerva McGonagall.

"Everyone, please stay calm! We will remain inside this hall until we are certain that all immediate danger has passed! I
repeat! Please stay calm-!"

The hall erupted into chaos. No one wanted to simply stay put, after all. The great savior of the Wizarding World had been
found! They had a duty to spread the news!

Sirius turned to his mate, mouth agape. He could not believe what had just happened. His godson, one he had believed
to be lost forever, was alive and well, and had hidden beneath his nose this whole time! Remus was in a similar state of
shock, but it was somehow different from his...Sirius saw no immediate significance in this.

"Let's go meet our godson!" Sirius whispered determinedly, and they both snuck from the room.

Meanwhile, Neville had gone white as a sheet. If half the kids were talking of Harry, the other half were talking and
pointing at him.
"Neville? Are you going to be okay?" Hermione asked softly. She always was the most perceptive.

"I-" Neville shook his head. He could not afford to show his weakness here. "Of course I'm fine."

Hermione bit her lip and looked away. The boy was obviously not fine, but it seemed he had resolved to keep his silence.
With his head down, Neville endured.

.oOo.

Hasan sagged against his Head of House. His head gave a mighty throb and he suddenly realized how very tired he
was. Snape sighed beside him.

"Hasan, the headmaster will have many questions for us. Despite what your present emotions are for Altair at the
moment, I hope you are prepared to protect Altair at any cost. His vision is the one that will end this war. Not the Dark
Lord's and certainly not Dumbledore's."

Hasan's brilliant emerald eyes snapped to his, stray black hair falling around his face. He could not believe Severus had
said that aloud with the Headmaster so near! Snape must've guessed his thoughts correctly for he gave a slight smirk
and gestured towards his wand. Ah, the wonders of magic!

"I will." Hasan said with conviction. He would sort out and eventually make peace with Altair, he knew, but how could he
forgive the man who had sent him to that terrible home? Who had forced him to grow up in an orphanage? Who blatantly
ignored the Slytherins and favored the Gryffindors? Who forced Neville into a role that no one would ever want? How
could he possibly side against his father with that?

They followed Albus Dumbledore silently through the corridors. Hasan leaned heavily against the Potions Master who
comfortingly offered his hand to hold. It was unusual behavior, but then Hasan could feel the slight tremors going down
the man's arm, and perhaps Snape needed this comfort just as much Hasan did.

"Jellybeans," Albus mumbled sadly to the gargoyle. The stone statue moved with a groan and they ascended the spiral
staircase. Albus had yet to talk to either one of them, but as he turned around, it was not from lack of understanding.

"You both have suffered tonight from Lord Voldemort" Albus said wearily, "I will go right now to Madam Pomfrey's to
retrieve some of Severus' excellent healing potions."

The headmaster made a show of walking past the two Slytherins, and exiting the way he had entered. Snape released a
breath as he dug around his cloak pockets for the correct calming draughts and anti-cruciatus potions (a.k.a. Voldemort
level healing potions).

"Why did he leave?" Hasan asked, as Snape handed him the vials. "He knows you carry these potions around as a spy
and Potions Master, so then why leave?"

"I believe he is giving us some privacy to collect our thoughts."

"Our-" Hasan froze. "Does he suspect you knew?"

Severus downed his potions with a shudder. "It's a remote possibility, but I don't think he thinks anyone capable of
keeping secrets from him, least of all one of this magnitude. It makes it all the more shocking that a thirteen-year-old
wizard managed to accomplish just that. No, I think he believes I have some power to comfort you as your Head of
House. It is a little known duty that I am in charge of all my snakes' emotional well-being." He smirked at the end, which
eased the tension a bit.

"I know we talked about this but, does it remind you of him? I mean, when I look like Jam- my father? I don't want..."
Hasan abruptly cut-off. He was not an emotional person by nature. What did he care if Severus couldn't stand to look at
him, now that he was a miniature James Potter?

Severus forced himself to look into Lily's eyes. "No, it doesn't bother me. I thought it would, and the idea does affect me,
but I see you, Hasan. Even now." His onyx eyes trailed up to the signature Potter mop.

The boy frowned, "This hair is way too short." Shutting his eyes, he imagined making his hair longer and straighter, but
no sooner had he sent his magic to work than a killer migraine formed at the base of his skull and struck him painfully in
his spine. "Ow!" Hasan hissed.

"What is it?" Severus asked, worry evident in his voice.

"I can't...I can't change back." It shouldn't have mattered as much as it did, but Hasan suddenly felt incredibly exposed
and vulnerable. He began to hyperventilate as the gravity of the situation settled in. The one thing he was afraid of most:
Harry Potter. And now? He was stuck as him! What a dream! What a dream! What a completely fucked up nightmare! "I
can't go back! I can't be Harry Potter!" Hasan whispered, bordering on hysteria. It was one thing to be exposed. It was
another to know the door was shut forever. Suddenly, warm arms wrapped around his shivering frame and his
movements stilled.

"Hasan, you need to stay calm for Professor Dumbledore. Can you do that?" A nod. "Your magic is heavily depleted right
now and that is most likely the cause for why you can't change back. I know how hard this must be for you." Severus
could only imagine the amount of power it would take to sustain a glamour for that long. And as Hasan's enchantment
wasn't an ordinary glamour, Severus could only wonder at the magnitude of the boy's desire to hide.

Hasan buried his tear-stained face into his professor's robes, not caring about dignity at the moment. "I-I'm sorry for
being so teary eyed all of a sudden," Hasan murmured, pulling back from the warm embrace. "It feels as if my magic has
snapped and is coiled up inside of me, ready to strike. It's so tense and ready, but I can't control it."

"Do not worry," Severus said lowly, "I will do all in my power to prevent Mr. Longbottom's unfortunate fate to befall you."

Hasan dried his eyes and nodded. "I know you will. Thank you."

.oOo.

There was a soft knock on the door. Hasan scrambled out of Severus' reach, an embarrassed blush flaming on his
cheeks. He didn't want anyone to see him so weak! Imagine, Hasan the apathetic Slytherin suddenly turned boy hero,
can't even manage to stand up on his own! No matter what persona, it looked awful and Hasan was loathe to ever
portray himself as weak, thank you very much.

Hasan steeled his face, prepared for his first interrogation session, when Remus and Sirius stumbled in through the
door. They appeared out of breath and a bit shaky as Sirius shut the door and locked it with a click. Snape's eyebrows
rose on his forehead.

"What are you doing here, mu- Black? Lupin?" Severus asked harshly. He stepped unconsciously between the two
remaining marauders and Hasan.

"What do you mean, Snape? That's my godson!" Black yelled, but instead of being an accusation it came out as weak
exclamation. The shock was enough to leave him speechless, his eyes focused on the little James Potter in the room.

Remus cleared his throat. "Severus, keep in mind that we have missed Harry Potter for far longer than you have."

Hasan swallowed as he watched his supposed godfather drink in these words.

"You?" Sirius asked mouth agape, staring at Snape. "You knew before this?" Suddenly, Remus' reaction in the Great Hall
wasn't as puzzling. "And Remus! You knew too?"

Snape sneered, though he really did try not to. Remus just looked at his husband sadly.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. But the truth is out now. I was going to confide in you. I'm sorry."

Sirius looked about to argue, some of his rage coming back and coloring his face, when Hasan stepped from behind
Severus and looked straight at him. His emerald eyes flashed with something like anger.

"You have no right to make accusations, Professor Black"-Black flinched-"They did what I wanted them to! There is a
reason why no one has ever found me. It's because I don't want to be found! Hasn't he (he shot a glare at Remus) told
you about my boggart yet? It's Harry-fucking-Potter! And if you truly cared, why was I raised in a fucking orphanage?
Abandoned by my supposedly loving relatives? Why?-" Hasan stopped here, choking on his air, because there was
simply no more breath to throw.

Remus and Sirius both paled considerably. Yes, they had forgotten that before he was Harry he was the boy they
recognized as Hasan. They couldn't simply swoop in and pick up where they left off, playing peek-a-boo as Lily brought
them biscuits...

Severus hated himself for this, but he felt it was necessary, "Hasan, Black as you may recall was in Azkaban during most
of your childhood, and Lupin has his case of lycanthropy. I would not put all the blame on them."

The marauders looked up hopefully. Dare they believe their ears? Did Severus Snape just defend them?
Hasan looked uncertainly at his Head of House. He knew he wasn't thinking clearly due to normal human reactions of
distress, but he was just so mad at having his life exposed for the world in a single instant. Literally, he bled for it.

"Okay," Hasan huffed. He looked down at his feet, trying to gather his magic and change back again, but the snake inside
did not rise to the bait. He stayed pitifully as Harry Potter. Well, Hasan thought, Voldemort can rip my persona from me,
b ut Dumb ledore sure as Hell cannot take my life. His Slytherin wits kicked in as he considered the upcoming
confrontation between the Past and Present Savior of the Wizarding World. He lifted his brilliant green eyes, causing
Snape to wonder what his young snake had planned.

"Remus, Sirius," the use of their first names caused both of them to give their full attention. Hasan nearly smirked. "I can't
ignore everything that has happened and pretend like I'm the Harry Potter that you want, but I am willing to forge a
connection for the future."

"What do you need us to do, Hasan?" Lupin asked cautiously, reminded of the way Lily looked before proposing a grand
scheme.

"I need my family to be protected at all costs," Hasan said simply. He locked them in his gaze. "Family is the most
important thing to me, I cannot lose that too."

Snape glanced at Hasan for a moment. Did the boy even realize how deep their love went for him? Or was he sensing
surface emotions and manipulating them the best he could? While he admired Hasan's ability of foresight, he didn't
want him to grow up heartless either. Perhaps a talk for another time then...

"We promise, Hasan. We-" Remus gave a tiny shudder. "Albus just passed the gargoyles! I set up a sensor ward," he
added in explanation.

Hasan could feel his face harden. He expected Remus and Sirius to leave him, run for the fear of being caught, but they
did not. They stood their ground and Albus Dumbledore opened the now unlocked door to be met with four pairs of
unrelenting eyes.

.oOo.

In the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall organized the other professors into pairs and directed them to a corner to cast
wards. If Lord Voldemort was indeed back to full power, they had a duty as teachers to protect the children at all costs,
which included ancient incantations they had studied and rarely used. The words flowed from the tongue, nonstop in a
constant hum. While the teachers were otherwise occupied, the students pounced on the opportunity to get some much-
needed answers. And who better to provide those answers than Neville Longbottom? The Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-a-Fake!
Ha! Or Luna Lov- Wait, where was that witch? No matter, they had one to torment.

"You're a big fat liar, Neville Longbottom!" Ginny Weasley was the first to cry out, slapping him straight in the face.

She was soon joined by others who stuck their ugly heads into his line of vision, mouths continually opening and
shutting, spewing accusations and profanities.

"We trusted you!" a young Hufflepuff shouted. "My parents told me to admire you for being the destined hero of the
Wizarding World and now I find out you are a farce!"

"He must have lied to Dumbledore!" a Ravenclaw piped up. "He must be so evil to have lied to Professor Dumbledore!"

A sea of people swarmed up to him in a crashing wave. Daphne was suddenly at his side, after having pulled Ginny from
the table.

"Get off him you bitch!" Daphne snarled in a very un-Daphne-like manner. "Was beating him up not enough? He's too
good for you!"

Ginny reared back and growled low in her throat. "Greengrass, you fucking snake. I bet you knew all along, didn't you?
Had a real laugh after I pined after that son of a bitch!"

Hermione rose up with Theo beside her, "We stand with Neville Longbottom!" Her voice vibrated throughout the entire
hall with a quick sonorus cast by Theo. "Whatever we have been told was told by the Daily Prophet, which we all know is
not the most reliable of papers. Do you dare to doubt Albus Dumbledore? Whatever happened between Neville,
Professor Dumbledore, and Ha-Harry Potter was worked out between them beforehand. Don't you think the Great Albus
Dumbledore would have known this all along?"

She glared forcefully at the Gryffindor table, willing them to support her. Of all the four houses, Gryffindor was the most
likely to worship Dumbledore's word. After her housemates gave their nods of agreement, she turned her attention to the
Ravenclaw table. They could not argue with her logic. Albus Dumbledore was faultless, after all, there was absolutely no
way he could have not been aware of the situation.

Hermione began to sag with unbelievable relief as the other two tables followed in their agreement. She had no idea
what had really gone on, and she suspected that Dumbledore had absolutely no idea about Hasan from his words
earlier, but she was willing to vouch for Hasan. For the boy who was her first friend before Hogwarts began. I call myself
Hasan indeed. The little bastard had known the whole time as well.

Clearing her throat, Hermione stepped down from the table awkwardly and allowed Theo to wrap her in a supportive
hug.

"Good job," he smiled into her hair. She nodded, unable to help the shudder that wracked her body. Her entire world was
backwards. Everything she knew about Hasan was now worthy of being questioned. What really happened in her first
year when they went to get the stone? What really happened last year when Draco was taken by the basilisk?

.oOo.

Daphne was stunned as Hermione stepped down from the table. She never imagined anyone would have lied to protect
Hasan like that. Sure, Daphne fancied Neville at the moment despite his false title, but never would she have guessed
that Hasan, that Hasan the boy who was always so queer and goddammit! She had just talked with him about this whole
debacle weeks ago!

She turned toward Neville, hand reaching out to comfort him, but he flinched away from her touch. The Great Hall was
silent now, except for the quiet murmurs.

"I...can't do this anymore," Neville whispered, his watery eyes pleading with her for relief. "Well, it's out now I suppose.
Everything I've ever done. Everything I thought I had accomplished, I- I wish I could tell you I lied about everything, but I
can't. I don't really know what happened at the end of our first and second years. Only Hasan does. Hasan...he fucking
used me." Neville slumped in his seat, arms crossing over his chest. "I feel so foolish. I acted like a real prick while I
thought I had saved everyone, but what glory is there in being used? By Dumbledore to cover up his secrets? By Hasan
to hide his?" Neville moaned in his hands.

Daphne watched him with as much sympathy as she could, but ultimately, she could not stand his all-consuming self-
pity. With a heavy sigh, she stood up.

"Neville, when you're ready to talk about this I'll be here. But maybe you should sort yourself out first." It took all her
strength to walk across the Great Hall and towards the Slytherin table.

Draco was frozen in shock, his lower lip trembling like a child's. Tracey was frowning at him and offered a knowing look
to Daphne as she approached. Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all watching the scene play out.

"You had no idea, did you?" Tracey asked Draco softly. She touched his shoulder softly and bowed her head.

Draco didn't respond. His mind was in a whirlwind. Everything became crystal clear in an instant. So that's why the Dark
Lord wanted to learn about Hasan- about Potter. Probably why his father did too- but he knew that didn't make sense as
his father couldn't have known. He squeezed his eyes shut. He knew something was off about that Hasan kid. What
normal child defeated a basilisk? What normal child knew where the Chamber of Secrets was? What normal child could
cast a patronus? Had Hasan grown close to him because he followed the old adage "keep your enemies closer"
knowing full well that Draco was fated to become a Death Eater? Salazar, Draco felt like such an idiot.

And on top of that, he began to question once more if joining the Dark side was really worth it. He had never seen or
heard his godfather in such a state as that. He knew the Dark Lord was flippant with his cruciatuses, but what Severus
had suffered through seemed more than a simple cruciatus. He grimaced as he remembered the way Snape fell to the
ground, twitching helplessly. His unbreakable godfather, crumbled like a ragdoll.

Was that the future Draco wanted for himself? Was his childhood hero nothing more than a bully with too much power?
He refused to think of this now as more tears rolled to the surface. He was dimly aware of Tracey cuddling him closer to
her, and he relished in her warmth, knowing he needed the comfort.

.oOo.

Albus was shocked but not surprised to see Remus, Sirius, and Severus standing protectively in front of the Boy-Who-
Lived, faces grim and ready for battle. He had not been prepared to discover his missing savior today, but he was
damned sure he was going to make the best of it.

To save what ties he could.

To salvage what alliance the boy would allow.

Really, Dumbledore realized the boy owed him very little. He could only imagine what Minerva would be saying or rather
shouting at him later that night. (Good thing she was busy erecting wards to keep Voldemort out.) He didn't think he had
the strength to deal with either at the moment.

With slightly moist eyes which twinkled kindly, Albus opened his mouth. He needed this boy on his side. The world
needed it. This moment would decide everything...

"I am sorry," he said.

His words hung in the silent air like a white flag of truce between them.

"SORRY?" Sirius was the first to react, "YOU LOST MY GODSON AND YOU'RE SORRY!" The man bellowed, teeth locked
in a feral growl, similar to the one his Animagus form would make.

Albus bowed his head before holding up a hand. "I admit I have made a great many mistakes in the past. But I am willing
to work past this. I am willing to work with you, Harry. If only you can forgive an old man's mistakes."

Hasan shifted uncomfortably behind Severus. Dumbledore had the nerve to say that he was willing to work past Hasan's
hardships in life? But then, perhaps it was for the best that Albus was so ready to look towards the future. He just wanted
the attention to be off Altair really. He had rather expected to be part of this war all along. Well, ever since Voldemort
decided to kill him multiple times.

With nothing revealed on his face, Hasan stepped out from behind Severus and looked in the headmaster's watery ice
blue eyes.

"Hasan, Professor Dumbledore. I prefer to be called Hasan."

The headmaster looked slightly startled before nodding quickly. "I can do that, Hasan. Now, why don't we all have a seat?
I'm afraid there's quite a lot to talk about." He looked pointedly at Severus as he said this- more specifically at Snape's
forearm- as he conjured three more high-backed chairs.

Hasan sat directly across from the headmaster, Severus and Remus protectively on either side. This formation did not
escape Albus' notice and he was slightly put off by the fact the boy had more support than he did at the moment.

"Lemon drop?" Albus offered cautiously. There was no response and Albus lowered the tray, not even taking one for
himself. "I first want to discuss you, Hasan."

The headmaster leaned forward at his desk, twinkling eyes locking with emerald.

"You probably know that we have tried to search for you since we discovered your disappearance." Hasan nodded. "You
probably have also gathered that we have been lying to the Daily Prophet as to your whereabouts. Hence why Gilderoy
Lockhart was killed on his search in the mountains. But now the truth is out. The Daily Prophet and the rest of the
Wizarding World will have their eyes on you all the time. So I think it's best if we just laid all the facts out here before they
lay them out for everyone else."

Hasan thought about it briefly. On one hand he could keep his silence and hope that the Daily Prophet didn't get that far.
Or, he could tell the headmaster the truth and earn his trust. It was a logical argument, he would give him that, and he
really did need the trust factor.

"What do you want to know?" Hasan asked guardedly, no emotion showing on James' face. "I'm not promising to answer
anything, I just want to know."

Albus sighed as he took in Hasan's expression. James had never looked that serious- his life had been rather carefree,
up until the point where Voldemort decided to kill him. But that was beside the point.

"I need to know where you were living before coming to Hogwarts and with whom."

Hasan could feel the people beside him tense, the pressure in the room already threatening to smush them all to the
ground. "I will not have you taking me away from him and under your custody," Hasan stated forcefully.
"So it's a man?" Albus asked curiously, pleased to have gleaned as much.

Hasan didn't appear phased by what seemed to be an apparent slip of the tongue. He wasn't going to go through all the
trouble of keeping gender neutral pronouns, incorrect plurals, or all the pronouns in the conversation. It would be rather
taxing and rather confusing.

"Yes, I am living with my father," Hasan bristled shortly. "In a rather unplottable and unknown location."

"But can you at least tell me who?" Dumbledore pressed. Hasan only glared, lips glued shut. He wouldn't turn in his
father, he wouldn't! The man in front of him probably wouldn't even believe him. Altair was dead. And the Ministry would
never admit to making such a mistake.

"Albus," Remus cut in, finally making good on that promise Hasan supposed, "I don't think we should push Hasan, do
you? He's just been outed as Harry Potter. Surely he can keep some of his secrets?"

They waited as Dumbledore ruminated. He needed this information, but he needed Hasan's trust, but he also needed to
keep Hasan safe which meant knowing the information... "In any other circumstances I would have to agree, but by
morning the Daily Prophet will have splattered this scandal all over the front cover. There will no longer be any option for
privacy. Hasan, I know you do not know me well enough to decide whether you'll trust me or not, but there are others out
there who are certainly not to be trusted. They might decide to apply to adopt you if no one can claim you are someone's
son." His grandfatherly eyes pleaded for them to understand. Even if Hasan didn't like him at the moment and never told
him who his father was, the absolute worst case scenario was to have the boy adopted by supporters of the Dark. Trust
be damned! Harry Potter would be dead within the day. "I only need proof you are living with an appropriate guardian. One
who does not have a criminal record and one who has legally adopted you."

The slight widening of Lily's eyes, imperceptible to a less keen eye, gave away everything Albus needed to know. Oh
Merlin! Was the boy already in Dark hands! Or perhaps it was the criminal part? The legal part? The appropriate part?
Albus flexed his fingers. Wasn't the name Castell familiar? Wasn't it? A pounding headache began to bloom in his lower
skull and he was again reminded of that red remembrall...if Albus didn't know any better he would have said Hasan's
guardian was the one to blame for all of it. But wasn't that absurd? He hadn't even known Hasan for as long as he
suspected the obliviates were there.

"Hasan," that was Snape's voice, and Albus was pulled from his thoughts and into the present. Severus was looking at
James Potter's spawn with a look of genuine sadness. When had Snape gotten so close to Harry Potter? Oh wait, Harry
was Hasan, and Hasan was a Slytherin. Of course they would be close. "You know just as well as I that something must
be done."

Hasan nodded, thin shoulders slumping before him. "But who?" he asked quietly, just for Severus to hear. "Who?" he
said a bit louder for the room, fixing his posture. "Will you-?"

Severus let a heavy sigh escape him. "I'm a Death Eater, Hasan. And Sirius, while freed, is still largely viewed as a
suspicious character, not to mention he's with Remus, a werewolf!"

Dumbledore suddenly understood what they were discussing. Adoption. Or at least a cover adoption- something to
show the press. He was struck at how very Slytherin the plan was and was again reminded that Hasan was a Slytherin.
How could he have forgotten that quickly? James' and Lily's child a Slytherin...

"Hasan, I would be more than willing to-" Albus began before he knew what he was saying.

Emerald eyes snapped to his. He faltered, understanding that as false as it might be, Hasan was not going to let anyone
he didn't trust into his private life. Albus quickly wracked his brain for the names of Hasan's friends. He needed them to
be Light wizards, people who would keep Albus updated and in the circle of communication, because he rather doubted
Hasan wanted anything to do with him now.

"Perhaps Mr. Longbottom or Mr. Weasley would be willing to have you join their family?" Albus offered.

Hasan sighed, knowing that both Neville and Ron hated him right now...as well as hated each other.

"Headmaster, I really don't think that would be a good idea. Mr. Longbottom's ineptness and tendency to cause accidents
will probably injure Hasan within the week and do you really think Molly can handle another child?"

Albus sighed heavily. There was little he could do. With as little information as he did know, his hands were tied. He
would just have to get the boy's record from the Ministry tomorrow. (Albus scoffed away the idea that this was somehow
betraying the boy's fragile trust in him.) And if Hasan really didn't want to be adopted by anyone, he knew a certain cat
Animagus who would certainly be willing to try. Hasan, after all, enjoyed her classes.

"We should continue this tomorrow, Albus," Severus said tiredly. "Hasan and I have had a rather trying day and if you'll
excuse us, we really do need to catch our rest."

Dumbledore nodded numbly, watching as his spy, cleared-convict, werewolf, and savior left his office. In the stillness of
the night, Albus felt unbearably alone, the obliviation weighing heavily on his mind.

.oOo.

Draco woke up with that damned bright sun glowering in his eyes. With a groan, he pulled the covers back over his head,
and snuggled back into the pillow he didn't remember lying on the night before.

"Draco! Come on, everyone's getting up and helping to move the tables back in!"

That painfully cheery voice was Daphne and that painful pinch to his arm was also Daphne. With a groan, Draco popped
out his head to see that kids were indeed helping to move the four large dining tables back into the center of the hall.

"You have got to be kidding me," Draco muttered, "We are wizards, not muggles! Someone should just spell them back
in place!"

Daphne shook her head with a laugh. When Draco had collapsed from grief and exhaustion the night before, everyone
had been concerned that he would go back into his reclusive state like he had in the beginning of the year. Luckily, it
seemed that Draco and his snark had recovered one hundred percent.

"Honestly, Draco," Hermione drawled in a perfect imitation of himself, "Sometimes there are advantages to doing things
the muggle way. See how McGonagall is teaching House Unity through this?"

Draco raised his head in time to see Justin Finch-Fletchley fall under the weight and wince as his bottom hit the floor. He
opened his mouth to make a cutting remark when none other than Gregory Goyle bent down and offered his hand.

Hermione laughed as Draco's jaw hit the floor.

"What do those goons think they're doing?" Draco asked sharply, climbing out from under the covers.

"Contributing to a better society," Professor McGonagall intoned from behind him.

Draco, Hermione, and Daphne gave a small jump as the Deputy Headmistress appeared from out of nowhere. With a
smart flick of her wand, Draco's makeshift bed was gone, eliminating what little hope Draco had of crawling back into its
warmth. "While we can move everything with a little magic, it is far better to learn how to get along, don't you think? And
besides, that is good quality wood. It takes at least twenty students to move such a large object, and while I don't doubt
your abilities, Mr. Malfoy, one mistake could very well result in someone getting injured...or worse, our good tables
suffering a dent! Now then, if you'll excuse me."

Minerva McGonagall swept past them in her teaching robes, taking her place among the rest of the staff. Some people
were missing though, like Snape, Dumbledore, Hasan, Black, Moody and Lupin, but then there was also an unexpected
surprise called Kingsley Shacklebolt who looked quite comfortable being up there in front of everyone.

"Ahem!" McGonagall cleared her throat. "We have lifted the extra wards around the great hall so that you can all write to
your families and continue your classes. In their places we have welcomed the help of Kingsley Shacklebolt and
Nyphadora Tonks who will be on a rotating schedule to guard the castle. All mail will be checked, coming and going, to
ensure we do not have any accidents."

"But why do we need all this, Professor?" Lavender Brown asked stupidly.

"Because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned."

At this, the entire hall was in an uproar. All the memories of the previous night came flooding back. Kids turned to each
other and screamed. People dug in their bags and started handing out parchment and quills. It couldn't be true, but if it
was, they would be the first ones to tell their families.

"How do you know?" someone from the Hufflepuff table asked, "All we saw was Professor Snape and Castell-er- Harry
Potter scream a lot and kind of spasm..."

McGonagall glared at him and said in a voice for all to hear, "Severus Snape has been a spy for the Light, but he bears
the Dark Mark. Harry Potter also bears a Mark from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Their suffering last night could only be
caused by the Dark Lord's resurrection."

"But it can't be true!" a first year cried, "He can't be back!"

Minerva sighed, "If it were not true, I would tell you in a heartbeat, but it is. Warn your families, tell them to properly protect
themselves. We will do our best to protect all of you."

"And what about Harry Potter? Isn't he supposed to be training in the mountains?" someone had the brains to ask.

Minerva smiled grimly. What the fuck was she supposed to tell the students? It was all Albus' fault! Damn the old codger!
"I will leave that to Professor Dumbledore to explain," she said stiffly. "I also want to inform you that the Yule Ball will still
be going on. Now more than ever, as we are on the brink of yet another Wizarding war, we need time to enjoy ourselves.
For that reason, the next Hogsmeade weekend has been moved forward to this week. We will extend the wards of
Hogwarts school to encompass the entire Wizarding town. All other trips will be cancelled. We have only allowed this
one in case anyone needed to do some last minute shopping. That will be all."

As the last table slid into place, kids clambered into their seats, not caring what table was what house at the moment.
Draco took out his quill and parchment and stared. What was he to write? With the Dark Lord's resurrection, with Harry
Potter's reveal, was he expected to play a larger role in this war than he had ever intended? What if the Dark Lord wanted
him to lure Harry Potter to him? Was that something Draco could do? Never mind that he was angry at Hasan for lying to
him. For keeping secrets. For being the damned figure head of the WRONG side of the war! Was Draco ready to tell his
father that yes, he was willing to officially become a Death Eater?

"Did you know?" Tracey asked, sidling in beside him.

"Know what?" Draco asked blankly. He knew he had the attention of the whole table now, a mixed bag of mainly
Slytherins and Gryffindors.

"That Hasan-"

"No, I didn't." Draco cut her off, trying hard not to snarl in her face. He didn't mean to hurt her, he was just so damned
frustrated. With everything. "Sorry, I-"

"No, don't worry about it," Tracey said softly. "I know how it must feel, to have been tricked like that. I mean, I never
suspected him either. Castell is a pureblood name, a rare one since the British branch died out years ago. How could he
have known that information? All the pureblood archives are just that, in pureblood archives, in homes, in blood-locked
tomes."

"Well, he had to have been raised by somebody," Theo said thoughtfully as he played with Hermione's hair. "Perhaps it
was a Castell."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Tracey said, "The last Castell died years ago. Remember? I think Atticus was his
name? I can't remember. Draco, you should know this."

"What? Why me?" Draco sputtered.

"I-" Tracey blushed, "perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned anything."

"What?" Draco asked, starting to get angry. "Tell me!"

Daphne locked eyes with him, "It was pushed under the rug- not exactly something you would want to talk about. I- um..."
she looked around her and cast a privacy charm around Tracey, Draco, Theo, and Hermione. Draco noticed and looked
at her strangely. What was it that everyone kept dancing around?

"Sometimes when your mother used to come over, Draco, our mothers would- um, talk. About engagement to Astoria,
um-" her eyes flickered to Tracey, "-it didn't work out, so yeah nothing to worry about Tracey. But sometimes they strayed
from the topic and I overheard- I didn't mean to, but I overheard that before Mr. Malfoy settled down with Mrs. Malfoy that,
oh. He had a sort of lover."

Draco blanched. "A-a what?"

"Well, you know when-"

"I know what a lover is, Daphne." Draco rolled his eyes. "But how come I've never heard of this?"
"Well, it's not exactly the sort of thing you tell your children, is it?" Tracey cut in, "I mean, do you really want to know all
about your parents' love life?"

"No, but this is different," Draco nearly growled, the anxiety mounting, "So what does this have to do with Hasan?"

"Well," Tracey and Daphne exchanged a glance. "It was a Castell," Tracey said softly.

"My father had an affair with Hasan's mother!" Draco yelped, eyes going wide.

"Not an affair," Tracey said softly, "Not Hasan's mother either- remember he's Harry Potter. And oh, he wasn't exactly a
woman."

Hermione felt her heart go out to the young Malfoy heir as he seemed to sway a bit. He looked tens seconds from
dissolving into a pile of goo at their feet.

"His name was Altair Castell," Daphne said. "But like we said, he's been dead for years. And it could all just be a silly
coincidence."

But Draco didn't believe in coincidences any more.

Thank you to all 22 of you who reviewed last chapter. You guys make me really happy :)

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*Chapter 38*: I am not I
A/N: Thank you for the lovely 869 Reviews! Let's make it to 900! This chapter has more reactions and a small
conclusion as they figure out what to do with Hasan.

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"I am not I.

I am this one

walking beside me whom I do not see,

whom at times I manage to visit,

and whom at other times I forget;

who remains calm and silent while I talk,

and forgives, gently, when I hate,

who walks where I am not,

who will remain standing when I die."

- "I Am Not I" by Juan Ramón Jiménez

Return of Emerald

Chapter 38: I am not I

Neville was stressed. He sat at his table, trying to ignore the stares and the glares and the comments sent his way. He
had betrayed so many. How would his Gran feel? Especially now that his parents' heath was going south? Would she
still love him half so much?

The thought was too heavy for him to bear. As soon as McGonagall announced that the extra wards had been lifted,
Neville slipped out of the great hall, unseen as far as he was concerned, and ran.

He didn't care where he went as long as it was far enough away from the castle- form them. It felt oddly reminiscent to be
running away from his problems? Hadn't he done so just a few days ago? When Daphne had dared to follow him...? But
there was no Daphne now. He was alone.

Frosted leaves crunched underfoot as he dove into the Forbidden Forest. Really, a centaur could maul him. A vampire
could suck him dry. Anything could happen in the forest, right? He ran in delirium, tears streaking down his face. He had
betrayed them all. How could he? Merlin! How was Dumbledore going to treat him now? Had he lost all value as the
figurehead? Had he? He harbored a sickening thought that if he died right now, in this very forest, then no one would
know or even care. He kind of liked taking his chances though.

It was a game.

Neville Longbottom sprinted through the thick undergrowth, weaving through the trees. He wasn't an athlete by any
means, and who could say if he was really going so fast? All the trees whirred by in a fat green brush stroke. He wasn't
even sure what he was stepping on or what exactly was slapping him in the face. He was fast! He was invincible! He
was-

Ouch! His side cramped tightly into a painful knot, rendering him immobile for the moment. He leaned heavily against
the nearest tree, clutching his side with a grimace. It would have been so funny, he thought, had Voldemort challenged
him to a race and Neville died just like that because he was too weak to outrun the greatest bastard of all time. Lowering
himself to the ground, trying to keep his heart rate under control, he waited until the cramp loosened itself from his body.
Perhaps his death would not be a glorious swipe from a tiger's paw as it would be some scavenger picking apart his
weak, frozen, and defenseless body. How his Gran would laugh...

When Neville came to, he was decidedly more steady. His head pounded from his earlier exertions and his legs did too.
He stood up slowly and then stopped. Damn. Where the fuck was he? Everywhere, no matter where he looked, was the
same. How was he going to go back to the castle now? And it was growing dark...His previous thoughts of dying alone in
the forest became less dramatically morbid and more realistic as he contemplated his current situation: lost, alone, and
afraid. He hoped desperately that someone had noticed his absence and had alerted someone. Maybe there would be a
search party dispatched in his honor? They certainly should have noticed his absence by now...They should have alerted
someone by now...

Neville shivered in his too thin clothes. What had he been thinking? It was winter for fuck's sake! And while his robes had
kept him from freezing thus far, he wasn't anywhere near comfortable.

"Hello?" Neville called. "Hello?"

Maybe someone would hear him. Fetch him, save him...

And then two beautiful eyes opened in the shadows.

.oOo.

"Luna, there is a silly wizard freezing to death out here!" Halo snorted, "Is he a friend of yours?"

Luna, in her Animagus form, stalked forward, head tilted in wonder. With all the commotion Hasan had raised, she had
thought she would have had more time to herself before anyone came out of the Great Hall- let alone to the Forbidden
Forest. But then again, what did she know? Sticking her snout out beyond the bushes, she was surprised to find none
other than Neville Longbottom, looking for all the world like a terrified toddler.

"Neville!" Luna whinnied in delight.

The sound was enough to startle Neville into jumping up. He couldn't understand what she was saying, of course, but
there was something familiar in the way those eyes seemed to pierce him and yet seemed to be focused on something
in the distance.

"L-luna?" Neville squinted at her, vaguely recalling her Animagus form from a distant memory.

"What is it, Halo?" another voice asked curiously. "Is it Luna's mate?"

Luna giggled as the thestral, Shadow, made his entrance. "No, silly! It's just Neville Longbottom. The boy who is living,
but not the boy who is living."

Shadow rolled his eyes, figuring he would get more answers from seeing for himself, and poked his nose through the
bush to stare at the weird wizard too. Neville gulped as the horse, unicorn, and thestral examined him. The horse still
hadn't changed back yet, so Neville wasn't completely sure whether it was really Luna or some random animal.

"Well, talk to it!" Shadow exclaimed, "It looks ready to pee itself."

"Patience, Shadow," Halo cooed softly, "This is one of Luna's friends. We must be nice to the wizard."

Luna nodded her agreement and with a bit of concentration, appeared before the distraught boy, clothed in her wizard's
robes.

"Hello Neville!" she said cheerfully, "What are you doing out here?"

Neville gaped. Wait, what was he doing out here? Running from his problems yet again..."W-what are you doing out
here?" he retorted.

"I'm visiting my friends!" Luna grinned.

"Glad to see you still have friends," Neville snorted. "Everyone hates me now." He looked away from her, mouth
compressed in a hard frown.

"You were living a lie, of course people hate you!" Luna said matter-of-factly.

"Then how come no one hates him?"

"Why should they?"

"Because! Because you just said it! He was living a lie!" Neville growled in frustration. Honestly, Luna could be really
dense sometimes.

"No he wasn't," Luna protested. "Hasan never wanted to be Harry Potter and so he was always just Hasan. He acted like
Hasan. He spoke like Hasan. He saved us and never claimed yes or no. You, on the other hand, spoke not like Neville
and acted not like Neville. And you were never the Boy-Who-Lived, yet took all the credit for it."

"You obliviated me," Neville muttered stubbornly.

"I didn't say engorgio and point to your head though," Luna glared at him, silver eyes afire. Neville gulped and couldn't
quite meet her eyes. Yes, she was right...Neville was truly pathetic.

"So...you knew all along, didn't you, Luna? And yet you...were still nice to me even when I acted like such a prat-oomph!"

"Shut up, would you Neville?" Luna said teasingly, giving him a tight hug. "I don't like when people wallow in their misery
and I'm sure Daphne doesn't either."

Neville grunted, blush creeping over her cheeks. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hmm," Luna conceded, but she sounded entirely too smug. "Well, since we've got some time to kill...I'd like to introduce
you to my friends, Halo and Shadow."

The unicorn and thestral stepped forward into the light, eyeing Luna's friend critically.

"You can...see thestrals too?" Neville asked quietly, sadly. "You never said-"

"I don't like when people wallow," Luna stated shortly.

The four were silent for a moment before Neville spotted the slight bulge in the unicorn's belly.

"That's-" he chanced a tentative look at the thestral, feeling goosebumps rise on his skin as he did so. "That's not
possible," he whispered.

"What's not possible?" Luna asked evasively. "Love can solve anything..." she trailed off dreamily, wondering what on
earth a thestral-unicorn offspring would look like...

.oOo.

An official Ministry owl had just dropped off the records of the boy known as Harry James Potter. But before Dumbledore
could do so much as tear open the seal, a heavy hand began beating down his door. Albus shut his eyes wearily. Merlin,
please let it not be-

"ALBUS! YOU OPEN THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT!"

-Minerva McGonagall.

Knowing that he was only stalling the inevitable by not unlocking his door, Albus sighed and acquiesced.

"Thank you for taking care of the school while I was busy," Albus began meekly.

"Don't you dare 'thank' me, Albus Dumbledore! How could you not have known Harry Potter was here all along? Didn't I
tell you to pay attention to Hasan Castell and what do I find? That you have royally failed to pay adequate attention to
either of them! Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Albus lifted his hands in defeat. "I surrender, Minerva. Forgive me."

"Too right you surrender!" Minerva screamed, storming into the room like an angry veela. "And now that you have gotten
us all into this mess, I trust you'll find a way to fix it!"

"Minerva, please! I am doing the best I can. Mr. Castell refuses to tell me anything about his home life or his adoptive
father and-"

"Well, why would he? You've done a fat lot for him over the years! I'm starting to wonder, by the way Neville Longbottom
flew out of the Great Hall near to tears, how much Hasan has actually done for us over the years. Clearly, we've all been
overlooking the boy. Who was in the final room with the mirror of Erised? Who was in the Chamber of Secrets? Was it
really Neville Longbottom at all? Because one would assume from all the fuss you've made that he was the only boy in
either scenario! But Hasan was there all along! He and Mr. Malfoy were also there! But I happen to recall very little of their
contribution!"

"If I had known that Hasan Castell was the chosen one-"

"Then you would have broken him like you broke Neville Longbottom! I am very disappointed in you, Albus. Very
disappointed indeed." She looked appraisingly at him over her glasses, willing him to disagree with how disappointed
she was and how sorry he better be feeling.

"What would you have me do, Minerva?" Albus asked tiredly. "I am already working to protect his privacy. When news of
Harry's return gets out, there will be millions craning to know every detail of his existence! He insists on protecting his
adoptive father, but I think it's more than that. I don't think he can tell anybody about that man! I need to make sure he is
under the wing of a powerful family! We can't have him falling into Death Eater clutches!"

McGonagall huffed and pursed her lips. "Because our side has done so much for him. I assume those are the boy's
records?" She indicated to the envelope clutched in the headmaster's hands.

"Yes."

"And did you tell him you were going to pry into his private affairs?"

"Well..."

"Albus, I understand why you're doing it. This at least has some merit. We must protect Mr. Castell's privacy at all costs.
But I urge you not to repeat the same mistakes with him as you did with Mr. Longbottom. Special attention can be just as
harmful as neglect."

Albus sat in silence for some time, before saying, "I didn't mean it, Minerva. I didn't mean to purposely ignore Hasan
Castell..."

Minerva watched him with a frown. His age seemed to be catching up with him more and more often. "Albus? Oh, you
were spacing out again," she said, but her voice was not unkind.

The headmaster's face went from startled, to embarrassed, to sad in an instant. "Minerva...I have a confession to make."

Minerva bit down the retort that 'indeed he had quite a lot of confessions to make', but something held her back. Maybe it
was the way the headmaster's shoulders sagged, or the incredibly vulnerable picture he made, wrinkled hands stroking
his now snow white beard.

"What is it, Albus? You can tell me."

"I..." he seemed lost for a moment, no more than a boy, "There is another reason why I want to go to the Department of
Mysteries. Not just to defeat Voldemort, I want that too...but I also want to hear the prophecy again."

"But why, Albus? Sure you must know what it says already...unless," Minerva snuck a glance at the pensieve where it
resided in it cabinet. Albus sighed, she had guessed correctly- it had something to do with his memories.

"I fear I may have been obliviated. I don't know why or even when exactly, but I cannot focus on the name Castell at all. It
slips away. I want to hear the prophecy again in case that particular memory had been tampered with too."

"But that's impossible!" Minerva cried. Who could think of obliviating the great Albus Dumbledore?

"The same man who was able to hide Harry Potter from us for all these years."

Minerva gasped, "You can't be serious! That's quite a leap of logic to make."

Albus only nodded sadly. "I know that I can't personally touch the prophecy, but I was so desperate. I was willing to break
it- shove it off the shelf- just to hear it once more. I'm starting to doubt myself, Minerva. I'm starting to worry I can't do this
anymore..."

"Oh Albus! Don't think like that!" Minerva sighed.

"But it's true, everyone knows I'm slipping. But I'm not sure how much of it is due to being obliviated. I don't know what
was taken from me and I also fear that perhaps it was because I couldn't be trusted with the information...I do everything
for the Greater Good, or at least I convinced myself that I did. Whatever it is that I learned must have been to further the
cause, but with terrible consequences. It frightens me, Minerva."

"I can see how that would," Minerva sighed heavily. "But even if it was Hasan's father who obliviated you, you do know that
Hasan is not to be blamed for the so called 'sins of his father'."

"I know. I know...That's why I had to send for his records. I need to know who his father is, not just for Hasan's welfare, but
for my sake as well. But now that the time is here- to learn who has been playing me- I find myself unable to look."

"Would you like me to open it for you, Albus?" Minerva asked quietly.

"Yes, would you? Would you do that for me?" Albus handed her the envelope, hands shaking like a leaf.

McGonagall held the paper in hand and deftly unfolded it. It was rather like opening a very important Christmas present,
the way they held their breath and waited. And then suddenly, Minerva paled.

"This...this-"

"What is it, Minerva? Who is it?" His blue eyes took on a maniacal hue as he stood up from his chair. "Tell me!"

"It's- It's Lucius Malfoy."

Albus immediately froze, mouth hanging agape. "WHAT?"

"No, never mind. It has an asterisk here. It says that there is an unfinished adoption ritual between the Malfoys and Mr.
Castell. Oh, and it lists Hasan Castell as Lord Black through his father's side. But that can't be right...wait, sorry Albus my
eyesight isn't what it used to be. It says here that he is Lord Black through two different channels, but that for information
you should go to Gringott's."

Albus shut his mouth with an audible snap, "The goblins will not be able to tell us anything. Although, that is curious that
he was the one to deny my access to the Malfoy vaults." He shivered because he knew the implications. It meant that
someone was watching him. That someone either predicated what he was going to do or was watching as he did it. But
at least he knew- nearly for certain- who his watcher was.

"So this solves you problem, doesn't it?" Minerva quipped, breaking his reverie. "Hasan can be adopted by the Malfoys."

And all the implications came tumbling down like a crumbling brick wall. Harry Potter...adopted by the Malfoys. How far
did his trust in second chances go?

.oOo.

It was slightly later in the day when the Minister of Magic was able to come make a visit. Actually, it was the earliest he
could come after learning from several "inside sources" that Harry Potter was alive and well and very much at Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Fudge had made a deal with Albus Dumbledore concerning Potter's disappearance at the beginning of the whole fiasco.
It ran as thus: The Daily Prophet should report nothing else but that Harry Potter was safely training in the mountains.
And that Albus should try his best, should Harry Potter come to light, to persuade Harry to align himself with the Ministry.

But now that Harry Potter was found, Albus doubted how ethical it would be of him to follow through with the second
piece of that argument. He could not, in good conscience, allow Harry Potter-er, Hasan Castell- to be used by the
Ministry! He realized now how awful it was for him to have used Neville Longbottom in that same way.

Fudge walked into the headmaster's office, ready to greet the young Potter boy, only to stare in shock.

"Good evening, Minister," Lucius Malfoy drawled lounging on one of the headmaster's chairs, teacup elegantly in hand. "I
trust you have heard the good news?"

"Why yes I have, Mr. Malfoy," Fudge sputtered, looking from Narcissa to Lucius to Dumbledore. "What is the meaning of
this Dumbledore?" he demanded as nicely as he could, hands fumbling with his cloak.

"We were just getting to that," Albus said, that damnable twinkle in his eyes. "Hasan Castell- oh, that is Harry Potter-"

"I read the letters, Albus!" Fudge snapped.

"-Yes, well he needs to complete an adoption ritual today and I thought who better to sanction this than the Minister
himself?"

Fudge looked lost for a moment. He never expected the Malfoys and Dumbledore to get along, but weren't they all just
trying to control the best chest piece on the board? Harry Potter? But that was so unfair! Hadn't Dumbledore promised
that Harry Potter was to be the chess piece of the Ministry? The figure head? The go-to for war moral support? Now,
more than ever, with the Dark Lord apparently back on the rise, he needed this tool! And as soon as Albus realized the
boy needed a legal guardian, he should have called Fudge, himself. How dare he try to underhandedly transfer Potter to
someone else!

"Albus, aren't you forgetting that we had a deal?" Fudge tried to say as nonchalantly as he could, "I am afraid I have used
up all my bargaining chips in getting the Daily Prophet to cooperate the first time around. To do so a second time, why, I
don't think I'd be able to keep them on the leash about this issue. Especially now that everyone has found out you have
been lying to them all about Mr. Potter's whereabouts."

"You dare to threaten my future son?" Narcissa spoke so softly that everyone was torn from their thoughts. "You forget,
Minister, that the Malfoys practically own the Daily Prophet." Her voice was low and dangerous, but Fudge was never the
sharpest of characters.

"There is always free speech," he replied staunchly, refusing to make eye contact.

"Not if we withdraw all our investments," Lucius said silkily. "Dear, dear, what would people say if the Daily Prophet went
under? Britain's number one paper, owned by the Ministry. If the Ministry can't keep a simple paper running, well, what
can it do?" His voice dripped with unconcealed threat, causing Fudge to turn a nasty shade of puce.

"You've made your point, Dumbledore. But why them? Surely you know-"

"What is it that I supposedly know?" Dumbledore asked calmly, eyebrow raised.

Fudge bit his lip. The elephant in the room- that the Malfoys were supporters of the Dark- was left unspoken. How could
he possibly use it as his playing piece when he himself had instated the Malfoys in several prominent positions within
the Ministry instead of appropriately throwing them in Azkaban? With a feral growl, he stood up.

"I refuse," he said. "I cannot perform the ritual."

"Then the Daily Prophet will know that you have denied a loving family to the Boy-Who-Lived."

Fudge's face scrunched up. They had nabbed him against the wall and they knew it. "Fine then, but there's no telling how
people will react when the news gets out that Harry Potter has been adopted by the Malfoys."

"But it won't get out," Albus said.

"Of course not," Fudge sneered, "Not by me. But you can't expect this to be kept a secret and when it comes out, I will not
stand in the way of the Prophet's right to free speech."

"Very well," Albus assented reluctantly. "I will send for the boy now."

.oOo.

Hasan ascended the spiral staircase leading to the headmaster's office, wondering what on earth was going on. He
knew that Dumbledore wanted to have him adopted as soon as possible, but surely he hadn't found a suitable enough
family yet? He'd be damned if Albus wanted to adopt him himself after Hasan had made it perfectly clear that was never
going to happen. Then again, it could be a different matter entirely. And then he pushed open the door...

Lucius watched as Hasan's usually impassive mask broke for just a second. Emotions flitted across it, too quick to be
discernable, but he was sure there was a flash of surprise and recognition. Hasan immediately identified Fudge as the
Minister of Magic and nodded with slightly to him. He was still unsure of the current situation and knew that though
virtually powerless, Fudge could kick up a tantrum if he thought it would get the influence of Harry Potter on his side. This
was something Hasan knew he could use to his advantage.

"Headmaster?" Hasan asked, voice perfectly polite and otherwise toneless.

"Have a seat, Mr. Castell," Albus said, eyes twinkling merrily. "I'd like to introduce you to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius
Fudge, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."

"Oh, it's wonderful to see you again Hasan!" Narcissa beamed, trying her best to set Hasan at ease.
Hasan simply glanced at her warily. Dumbledore frowned. If they knew each other, and they clearly did, why was the boy
acting so damn aloof?

"Mr. Castell, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Fudge said, not wanting to be left out.

Hasan thought a second before letting a slight smile slide onto his face, "A pleasure, Minister."

Narcissa watched the exchange with a trained eye. It seemed like her soon to be son was playing politics. By not
associating with either Dumbledore and the Malfoys, he was able to reel Fudge to his side. But Fudge was useless, so
did that mean Hasan was blindly gathering allies? Did that mean Hasan didn't know why they were there?

"Mr. Castell," Albus said, clearing his throat. "The Malfoys are here to ask you a very important question. I would ask that
you think carefully before giving your answer."

Hasan quirked an eyebrow at this, no doubt knowing what was going on by now.

"Hasan," Lucius began formally, "would you like to be officially a part of the Malfoy family?"

"Why you?" Hasan asked carefully. He knew that the Malfoys were supporters of the Dark- Salazar, Draco was trying to kill
him! But that didn't make sense. Dumbledore wouldn't allow anyone near him if they were truly Dark. If Dumbledore had
wanted he could have had Sirius Black in here instead offering him a place in his family. But Sirius Black was not here
(possibly because an ex-convict and a werewolf were not prime guardian material for the Boy-Who-Lived). So had the
Malfoys switched sides? Without telling Draco? Or did Draco just not agree?

It was the headmaster who answered, holding up a heavy piece of parchment. "Your records indicate that you have an
unfinished adoption ritual with the Malfoy family."

"My...records?" Hasan asked blankly, but there was a hint of panic beneath the tone.

"Yes, I sent for them after our meeting yesterday," Albus admitted almost sheepishly.

Hasan's eyes narrowed. Who gave Dumbledore the bloody right to his private information? But he could only fight one
battle at a time, especially with so many witnesses. He couldn't afford to give too much away. "Headmaster, may I see my
records?"

Lucius wasn't stupid. He knew why Hasan was suddenly so worried. It all came down to Altair, didn't it? After Hasan had
scanned the sheet, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. It was just through the dagger then, huh?
Well, at least it wasn't because of some fluke in Lucius' and Altair's relationship- that would have been horribly
detrimental to his situation. But it did let the headmaster know there were two ways in which he had a claim on the title
Lord Black, which frankly, he had never known. Damn, if Dumbledore decided to check a family tree...well, Altair was
screwed.

"So will you accept our offer?" Narcissa asked kindly. "We are a prominent pureblood family. No one can contest our
claim and we are related, the Potters and the Mafloys. We also have a lot of sway in the Wizarding community. We can
offer you privacy and protection."

Hasan was silent for a moment, just thinking. Altair just couldn't remain his guardian, and according to his records, Altair
didn't even exist- by Wizarding laws. But not through his claim to the Lordship, which the goblins alone handled.
Apparently Altair was recognized as alive by the goblins which was...fascinating. The fact still remained, he needed
guardians acknowledged by Wizarding law, and here the Malfoys were, delivered practically on a silver platter. Strong
enough to protect him, courageous enough to switch sides during a war, smart enough to let him know how he
personally benefitted from the deal. He was also sure, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Altair would approve.

"Alright," Hasan said finally, "What do I need to do?"

"It's a simple procedure, Mr. Castell," Fudge said eagerly, "Both parties will sign this contract, and then blood must be
shared."

"Who on the Malfoy side will contribute their blood?" Albus asked, conjuring a small knife.

"I will," Lucius stated, having already arranged it with his wife. He stepped forward smoothly, silver eyes never wavering
from Hasan's. "And that will not be necessary," he said, indicating to Dumbledore's knife. "I have one that will do just
fine."

Reaching into his robes, Lucius withdrew a rather familiar dagger. Hasan nearly gasped as he saw it, remembering
those lonely nights when Altair had stayed up at night, fingering the hilt or just plain staring at it wistfully. How had Lucius
gotten it? Hasan's eyes bugged out of his head. No! It couldn't be! Lucius and Altair had met up again. Hasan was
unsure how that made him feel. Did Lucius know Hasan had their memories stored in his head? DID HE? Lucius met
his eyes, the message crystal clear: You and I b oth know what this means. Do not let the others know.

Hasan swallowed audibly.

"Here is the quill, my boy!" Albus said happily, giving Hasan the quill first.

Sparing Lucius and Narcissa a quick glance, he turned to the contract. There were few words on it, so it only took a
minute to read the entire thing. It seemed that Hasan could keep his last name which was good at least. Taking a deep
breath, Hasan signed it, but the name that gleamed back in black ink was not Hasan Castell, it was Harry James Potter.
He took a shaky step back, just in time to witness Lucius dripping some blood into a little golden bowl. They exchanged
utensils after Lucius had disinfected his. And as Hasan watched the crimson liquid fall, he realized with a jolt that
everything had changed. He could no longer hide as a Castell anymore, because that was what Castells were, they were
hiders. Hasan Castell would have to step into the light, face his boggart, and slip off the ring. Because he was Harry
Potter. And he was no longer the little boy dreaming on Red Mills Hill...

After Hasan and Lucius finished their part, Fudge signed his own name on the bottom of the contract and Dumbledore
began the incantation to bind their blood together. Although no one could understand a word he was saying, everyone
watched as the golden bowl began to dissolve into the mixed blood, and with a few more words, there was nothing left of
the bowl but a small bead of wax.

"If you would," Fudge said, indicating for Albus to stick the bead into the designated circle on the contract. As Albus
touched the bead to the paper, it melted into a seal, one which showed the Black Family crest, as this was the more
powerful of their families, and therefore less contestable as invalid.

"It is done," Fudge announced dramatically, rolling up the scroll and getting ready to leave by the floo. "I wish you both the
best of luck." His gaze lingered on Hasan's form before stepping into the fireplace.

Narcissa ran to hug her newly inducted son, tears in her eyes.

"I'm so glad! Draco will be so pleased!" she said, temporarily forgetting one minor detail.

"...Thank you...Narcissa," Hasan said softly, not wanting to admit how much he enjoyed staying in her motherly embrace.
But he knew it was too good to last. Too sweet, too pure. For the door to the Headmaster's office swung open once
again, and then there was silence.

"What- Mother? What is going on here?" Draco Malfoy sputtered, an ugly emotion bubbling in his throat, wanting to make
itself known.

Hasan immediately tensed, trying to disentangle himself from Narcissa's heavenly warmth but to no avail. Narcissa kept
a strong hold on him as she smiled, "Say hello to your new brother, Dragon!"

And had Hasan not seen it with his own eyes, he would have doubted anyone telling him that Draco could faint from just
seven simple words.

.oOo.

Hasan walked out of the Headmaster's office, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Everything was happening too fast and
he just wanted to hit pause. It was late now, almost past curfew, but Hasan was too preoccupied to care. He needed to
know what was going on. What did the Malfoys know? What did Draco know? How did Lucius Malfoy get that dagger?

He had been exempt from classes all day, seeing as classes started later, were shorter, and Hasan had to complete the
adoption ritual. This also meant he had yet to see how the student body was going to treat him. He had yet to figure out a
way to change his appearance back to the way he liked it: longer brown hair, jade eyes, narrower face. And his scar was
a dead giveaway. Would people hate him? Would people love him? Curiously, he felt little guilt over lying. It was for a
necessary reason and it didn't harm anyone, did it? Except for Neville, a niggling voice said in the back of his mind, but
he ignored it. He wondered absently how Neville was faring with the whole ordeal. Perhaps he was relieved to be free of
the burden of the Boy-Who-Lived. It certainly would get Ginny Weasley completely off his back!

With a sigh, Hasan spotted a poster for the Yule Ball this coming weekend. Well, it would boost morale, wouldn't it? And
everyone did need a boost of morale. It wasn't everyday a Dark Lord got resurrected! But this dance was supposed to be
more than that. It was supposed to be a time for Hasan and Luna to just have fun, back when it was only Luna who knew
his secret. But would Luna even want to go with him?

Oh, it was nothing about the fact he had lied about being Hasan, that was for sure. It was rather that he had lied to
everyone else. Luna could be seen with Hasan Castell, but would she want to be seen with Harry Potter? Did she still
think Hasan was worth it? Even if it meant the entire Wizarding world would be prying into her private life as the Boy-Who-
Lived's girlfriend? Wait, would that put her on the Dark Lord's hit list too? Was he sentencing her to die with him?

No. The Dark Lord would murder everyone regardless, that wasn't a good reason.

Still lost in thought, he almost didn't see the lithe form coming from the forest. But it must have been the way the moon
cast its light which made Hasan run to the window, and then run to the closest door. Luna? What was Luna doing out
there?

The memory of the last time Hasan had found Luna wandering outside fresh in his brain, Hasan ran out to help her. He
was about twenty feet from her, when he noticed another form, dressed in dark colors, beside her. Squinting against the
darkness, Hasan could just make out the form of Neville Longbottom. What was going on? Judging by the way the boy's
shoulders sagged, Hasan would guess sulking. The thought they were having a secret rendezvous never crossed his
mind. He was confident that Luna was very fair and he somehow couldn't see Neville making the jump from Ginny to
Luna...

"What's going on?" Hasan asked directly, standing before them.

Neville opened his mouth, as his eyes were inevitably drawn towards his famous scar.

"W-we were just-"

"I showed him the unicorns, Hasan!" Luna cried, tackling Hasan around the waist. "Did you know that unicorns and
thestrals can mate?"

Hasan felt a smile coming up on his face, "Really?"

"Oh yes!" Luna beamed, gushing with happiness as they walked towards the castle. "It is rather unusual and their
families might not approve but I think it's wonderful!"

Luna had slipped her hand into Hasan's, but Hasan was still uncomfortable with showing physical affection in public.
Especially in front of Neville who was still staring at him like he couldn't believe Hasan was really the Harry Potter.

As they entered in through the same door Hasan had run out of, Luna spotted the Yule Ball poster and smiled. "We are
still going, right?" Luna asked, silver eyes going wide, "I've already made my dress and everything!"

Hasan blinked in surprise. "I wasn't sure you'd still want to go out with me," he admitted softly.

"Why wouldn't she, she's dating the Boy-Who-Lived," Neville commented bitterly. He mentally slapped himself. He wasn't
mad at Hasan, he had just had a trying day. "Sorry, I just meant that-"

"No, it's fine, Neville," Hasan stated, "I understand you've had a hard day." Hasan regarded Neville's disheveled form,
puffy red eyes and tattered robes. His gaze made Neville feel small, although it lacked any venom. A warning, Neville
realized, and he abruptly shut his mouth.

"Of course I will, silly!" Luna smiled, gazing at him with shining eyes. "Through thick and thin. I'll always be with you." She
stood on her tip toes and kissed his forehead, causing him to blush from the roots of his hairs.

Hasan wanted to say he loved her right then. He wanted to sweep her off her feet and press a kiss to her lips. The way it
should be. The way she probably dreamed it would be. But he didn't. He could only watch her, wishing he were more
courageous.

"It's okay," Luna whispered in his ear, "Someday..."

Hasan nodded, wondering whether he should try to hug her again, when she wrapped her arms around his middle.

"Um, goodnight," Neville said awkwardly before making his quick escape.

Hasan and Luna left soon after to their respective dorms.

And then a beetle with funny markings took off into the night...
A/N- Ooh! Beetle, huh? What type of trouble will that bug stir up? What did you think about the adoption? Should
Sirius be upset about not being able to adopt his godson? Is Neville finally coming around? Is Dumbledore going to
be more open from now on? Or does he have more secrets up his sleeve?

Next up: The Yule Ball!

(Altair needed to obliviate Dumbledore, and to ensure Albus wouldn't just remember the name Castell afterwards,
Altair also obliviated all the other teachers at the time. He, being an idiot however, obliviated neither Narcissa nor the
other Pureblood circles. Voldemort still remembers him too, but he never thinks to bother Lucius about him
because, well, Altair's dead. Besides, Voldemort murdered Altair because Altair wouldn't join them. As far as Voldie
was concerned, Altair knew nothing of importance. Nothing about Blood-Purity and nothing about horcruxes. He's
just another dead man. And who has time to remember them all when you're a dark lord?)
*Chapter 39*: I Put a Spell on You Pt 1
A/N- Thank you to the SEVEN special people who have reviewed last chapter out of the SEVEN HUNDRED people who
have read it.

DarkRavie, Serpent 91, EndlessChains, pinks99, anon, Nagilover4ever, and JPElles - You guys are made of awesome
sauce.

The rest of you! Well, I'll let Molly do the rest...

"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU! IF YOU WERE MY CHILDREN I'D HAVE YOU REVIEWING...WITHOUT MAGIC!"

Or Severus?

"..." *lip curl*

Okay, now that my cloud of sadness and crushing disappointment is somewhat out of the way, please enjoy!

"Oh, oh, I love you, I love you

I love you anyhow

I don't care if you don't want me

I'm yours right now

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine, mine, mine

Oh, ooh you're mine"

-I Put a Spell on You by Jay Hawkins

Return of Emerald

Chapter 39: I Put a Spell on You

The Return of Harry Potter:

What else has Dumbledore been lying about?

According to inside sources, Harry Potter has not been training in the mountains as the media has led us to believe.
Rather, the boy with the lightning bolt scar has been among us, a model citizen, making this world a better
place...Dumbledore has a lot of explain to do. "I don't care if he's the bloody king of the Wizarding World, Dumbledore has
too much power!" a Ministry worker who wishes to remain anonymous told us...

Boy-Who-Lived is Boy-Who-Lied

Neville Longbottom: Fraud or Farce!

Neville Longbottom, long hailed as the Boy-Who-Lived, is nothing more than a liar. But is that all there is to the story?
After all, the famed Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries has stipulated that the chosen one was to be born at the
end of July to parents who had thrice defied He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. So how much of this fiasco is Longbottom's
fault? We have reached out to Augusta Longbottom, Neville Longbottom's guardian, but she has declined to comment.

Luna Lovegood Tragically Caught Between Two Heroes

Exclusive with Rita Skeeter

It has not been more than a few weeks since Neville Longbottom, the fraudulent Boy-Who-Lived, was spotted with his
loving girlfriend, Ginevra Weasley- the lovely youngest daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley, both staunch supporters of
 the Light- on a charming date during one fateful Hogsmeade weekend. The couple was purported to have been
preparing for the upcoming Yule Ball at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where both attend as Third Years.
Yet, it was just last night when Harry Potter, the recently exposed Prophecy Child, was seen fighting Neville Longbottom
tooth and nail for his own girlfriend, Luna Lovegood. "I can't believe he just left me!" one tearful Ginevra Weasley
confesses as she dabs her delicate eyes, "We were so happy together and then I find out he lied to me!" Her brother,
known friend of both Potter and Longbottom, whole-heartedly agrees. "Not only did [Longbottom] dump my sister,"
Ronald Weasley fumes, "but he made us believe he was the Chosen One. I can only say that I am extremely hurt." As my
thoughts drift to last night, I wonder how many other lies Mr. Longbottom has spun and how many other girls he has
lured with his falsified claim to fame. My sympathy goes out to you, dear Mr. Potter, in hopes that at the very least, you
have a wonderful Yule Ball.

.oOo.

Altair Castell set the paper down with a blank face. Well damn. He really wished he didn't need to...but what was a
protective father to do? He grabbed his quill and parchment and set to work.

Dear Lucius,

I sensed a change in my son's aura the other day. To b e concise, I am more than pleased to know you will get to know
my son and look after him. I understand why you had to do it and am aware that Alb us knows partly of my existence.
Therefore, if it is not too much to ask, I would like very much if Hasan could stay with you for the duration of the Winter
Holidays. He will understand. However, this is not all I am writing to inform you ab out.

I am sure you are aware b y now of the articles in today's Daily Prophet. I am not writing to b lame you for the article Miss
Skeeter wrote this morning, nor the other articles written in a similar vein. I am hoping that I can help to turn the situation
around. I know you of all people will find a way to use this piece of information to your advantage. Rita Skeeter is a b eetle
Animagus.

Best of Luck (as Always),

Altair

.oOo.

Hasan walked into the Great Hall, very frustrated that he could not get his hair to lie down flat. Severus had insisted that
his magic would even itself out in a few days, but for now not to worry about it so much. Still, Hasan was far from
pleased.

As he made his way to the Slytherin table, he could feel eyes boring into the back of his head. Was he really that
interesting? Hasan thought bitterly. But then he saw the Daily Prophet and his heart sank. On the cover was a moving
image of Luna standing on her tip toes, pressing a quick peck to his forehead, with none other than Neville Longbottom
staring at them with a most uncomfortable and awkward face.

He attempted to sit down without disturbing anyone, but today it seemed, was not his day.

"Ha...Hasan?" Tracey asked softly, "You okay?"

Hasan met her eyes and she gasped at the intensity of the green. She had been so used to the dullness- despite how
creepy it was-that she nearly fell over in shock. "I am well, thank you Tracey." His gaze lingered on the Daily Prophet and
he cleared his throat. "You don't really believe that rubbish, do you?" His tone implied that it was beneath him to read and
that she was beneath him if she read it.

"I don't know what to believe," Daphne commented bitterly. "I thought we told each other things."

Hasan thought back to the day when they had talked in the Room of Requirement. Yes, he felt guilty, but it wasn't like he
owed her an explanation. How dare she treat him like a common liar! That title should remain with her boyfriend.

"What? Jealous?" Hasan smirked, wanting to get on the girl's nerves. "Think Neville's going to fly to Luna now? He is
rather flighty when you get down to it and he has been known to spin a lie or two."

Daphne sucked in her breath. "How- how dare you suggest-! You have no idea what he's been through! No idea at all! At
least he didn't run away! At least he's not a coward!"

Draco approached the table, with the full intention of breaking up the fight, but it just got too juicy. After showing supreme
weakness by fainting the other day, it wouldn't hurt to get a little dirt on his new brother, now would it?
"Been through?" Hasan hissed softly, but by now he had the attention of the entire Slytherin table if not the entire hall. His
voice carried like one clear note on the wind. "Tell me what you think he's done." His gleaming emerald eyes dared her to
continue.

She glared right back, barring her teeth. She remembered the way Neville had looked in the green house and knew that
his life was an infinite weight upon his soul. Just because he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived didn't mean his suffering was
any less real. Hasan's cool demeanor unnerved her.

"Neville Longbottom vanquished the Dark Lord in our first year! He rescued Draco in our second year! He slayed a
basilisk! He- He- HE- FOR MERLIN'S SAKE, HASAN! WHAT HAS HE EVEN DONE TO YOU?"

She was breathing harshly and Tracey placed a tentative hand on her arm. She knew that Daphne was more upset than
usual because the articles specifically targeted Neville, but she also knew it wasn't Hasan's fault. Just because he was
a right pain in the arse sometimes didn't mean he deserved to be yelled at this early in the morning. The situation was
hard on b oth of the boys.

"You're right," Hasan all but whispered, "He's done nothing for me." He knew he was lying. He knew that Neville had in
fact played a huge role in keeping his secret by taking all the glory, but he was too upset to care. If Daphne was going to
act like a two-year-old then so was he!

Daphne looked about to breathe fire before she abruptly turned heel and stalked out of the Great Hall, smoke coming out
of her ears. Life was so unfair!

At the Gryffindor table, Neville flushed embarrassedly. He was flattered that Daphne had taken his side, but he also knew
she had just made a very big fool of herself...in his honor. He glanced down the Gryffindor table and was disheartened to
see that everyone was glaring at him (save Hermione and Theo). He thanked Merlin that at least Ginny, Ron, and
Lavender were still in detention. Funny how the article failed to mention how they had kicked the shit out of him during
that very same Hogsmeade weekend... Deciding that he really should run after Daphne, he flashed Hasan a quick
apologetic smile, and scampered after her, happy to run towards something for a change.

.oOo.

"Hasan," Draco greeted stiffly as he sat down. His face was unreadable but Hasan didn't particularly care for another
scene that morning. He needed to eat, thank you very much!

"Good morning, Draco," Hasan returned apathetically.

"Mail come yet?" Draco asked conversationally.

"Not yet, McGonagall and Tonks and are checking through the mail," Tracey said, but just then, a flurry of owls flooded into
the Great Hall. Hasan expected to get swamped with hate mail just then, but surprisingly only one owl made its way over
to his seat. Without really thinking, he glanced up at the head table to see Severus watching him. No doubt he had been
listening with the rest of the Great Hall to the conversation Hasan had moments before. Hasan bit his lip, lost in thought.
Had they confiscated his mail? But then Snape quirked an expectant eyebrow at him and Hasan turned back to his table.

"Hey, is that the Malfoy family crest?" Tracey asked curiously as Hasan extracted the letter from the owl.

Malfoy stayed resolutely silent but held his hand out to take them anyway.

"Draco, I think they're-"

"Ouch!"

Hasan shrugged, served him right for refusing to listen. Tracey watched the exchange with interest, wondering what she
was missing. Sure Hasan had the Malfoy family dagger but Hasan and the Malfoy family never struck her as close. What
was Hasan doing getting a letter from the Malfoys?

Hasan was pleased to note that the owl did not try to nip his finger off when he tore open his letter. It seemed the owl
was under strict orders to only allow Hasan to read it and Hasan only. Needless to say he was rather intrigued.

Hasan dearest,

We have seen what that horrib le woman wrote in the Daily Prophet and we apologize on her b ehalf. Rest assured we will
not let Rita Skeeter get away with this b ut we will not b e pressing charges. Instead, we have found a more suitab le
solution that we can discuss in further detail at a later time.
Lucius and I also want to extend the invitation for you to spend the Winter Holidays at our Manor. We know you may have
had some disagreements with Draco, b ut while under our roof you are under our protection. With the Wizarding World
watching your every move, you must understand why we urge you to accept. Your only other alternative is to stay at
Hogwarts, under the Headmaster's watchful eye, for I fear that your father has some b usiness to attend to.

Your loving mother,

Narcissa Malfoy

.oOo.

The Yule Ball.

Hasan grimaced as the rough formalwear bit into his skin. Yes, technically the dress robes were very soft. Yes,
technically they weren't biting. But yes, Hasan couldn't help but adjust the fabric every single second he could get. Stupid,
stupid, clothing...

He took one last look at his very irritated self before walking into the Common Room. His magic had returned little by
little since the morning, and he was just able to make his hair grow longer and tamer. Unfortunately it was still inky black,
but he was sure he could fix it in time. His eyes were a different matter altogether. His breath stopped whenever he
glimpsed any reflective surface because he just wasn't used to seeing such bright green eyes gleaming on his face.
They were crystal clear and very very open. He hated the way his every emotion was projected through his eyes, but
funnily enough he found that he didn't really hate them. Jade was fine and all, but it was the emerald which he loved. It
connected him to his mother- to his identity as a Potter.

Tracey squealed as Hasan came into the Common Room. Her blond hair was in waves down her bare shoulders and
face was done up very professionally.

"Awww, look at you!" Tracey gushed, giving him a warm smile. "Luna won't be able to keep her hands off you."

"She better," Hasan stated noncommittally, taking in her appearance. Tracey was wearing an elegant pale green dress,
sleeveless mind you, with silver shoes, earrings, and accenting bracelets. Hasan didn't care for fashion much, but he
smiled and paid her the compliment anyway. "You look very lovely, Tracey."

Draco was hovering in the background, waiting for his date so that they could leave for the Great Hall together. He snuck
a glance at Hasan and nodded when their eyes met by chance.

"Don't you agree, Draco?" Tracey asked, dragging her boyfriend into the conversation.

"Yes, of course," Draco smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Hasan let them go, wondering when Luna planned on getting him. He had wanted to go on time as well, but Luna had
insisted on being fashionably late, and as everyone was planning on being fashionably late, that meant Luna wanted to
come even later. She just failed to specify how much later.

Daphne, Hasan noted, was not in the Common Room. Which was fortunate because Hasan wasn't sure how long it
would take for her to get over the incident at breakfast. She was most likely with Theo, sprucing up with the Gryffindors,
most probably ranting about the nerve of him.

Hasan sighed. Today had been particularly exhausting. Not only had the students treating him differently, but the teachers
had too. The kids were easy to predict. Most of them acted on House opinion. The Slytherins, for example, regarded him
with respect for being able to hide among them. Many, he knew, were Death Eater spawn, but well, he was an honorary
member of the Malfoy family so who could really say. The Ravenclaws liked to study him with their dissecting glances
and soft whispers. They couldn't quite figure out how someone could have hoodwinked them, the brains of the school.
The Hufflepuffs tended to admire him, especially the younger ones, which left the Gryffindors...

The Weasleys were particularly passionate, vengeful for want of a better word. Ginny took it upon herself to learn how to
set fire to someone with eye contact alone, while Ron just huffed and puffed all over the place. The twins, naturally, gave
him small grins and thumbs-up's throughout the day, but they were in the minority. Whatever was going on in the House
of the brave, Hasan sure didn't like it.

The teachers, on the other hand, tended to have one mode which was "Heart-wrenching Pity". McGonagall couldn't stand
to look at him without getting choked up, and Sirius even ended class early to get ahold of himself. Snape was the same
as ever, but he did seem on edge. Perhaps that's why the Gryffindors lost a groundbreaking 100 points in his class
alone when Ron tried to sabotage his potion. Had he succeeded, the calming draught would have turned into a
scorching volatile acid, one which would have guaranteed an immediate visit to the hospital wing. Still, Hasan had never
seen the man so angry in a classroom setting. It was unnerving to say the least.

But tonight was the Yule Ball. And if anyone's opinion actually mattered, it would be Luna's. Now...where was she?
Perhaps he should go look...

.oOo.

Luna twirled back and forth, admiring the way the silver shimmered and flowed. She had spent the past few months in
the forbidden forest, talking with Halo and Shadow and collecting more unicorn hairs for her collection. She loved the
way the hairs flowed over each other, each a beautiful thing in itself. She had collected about 300 hairs total, some more
damaged than others, and it was quite a feat. Unfortunately there wasn't enough to make a whole dress, just a skirt.
Which worked well enough with the white beaded top her father bought for her to wear to her cousin's wedding last year.

Months of work...just for this one night. She hoped it was worth it. One way to find out, right? She was just outside the
Slytherin common room when Hasan chose that second to emerge, looking a little nervous and rather uncomfortable in
his clothes. He froze as he saw her, his emerald eyes doing a double take. Luna had softly smoked out her eyes and
used a spell Tracey taught her to curl her hair a little so that it fell down in soft waves.

Thawing himself out of his stupor, Hasan smiled.

"Luna, you look beautiful."

"You look dapper yourself," she teased, twirling so that her dress flared out brilliantly, the unicorn hairs sliding over the
silver underlayer.

Hasan blinked rapidly as he took in her skirt. Was that-? How-?

"Luna?" he asked shocked, "Is that-?"

She simply grinned at him before leaping into his arms. Her breath brushed his ear. "I'll tell you a secret," she
whispered, "It's unicorn hair."

She drew back and grinned at him.

"Isn't it lovely? Halo is shedding them like crazy. Did you know she's pregnant? With a thestral no less!"

Shedding? Pregnant?

"A thestral?" Hasan echoed. "They can do that?"

Luna shrugged, "Apparently. You know," she began, eyes glossing over, "I always wondered what a unicorn-thestral
would look like. Do you think we could call it a unistral? Or a threstcorn? Or a cornstral?"

Hasan couldn't help himself, he laughed softly as Luna took his hand in hers.

"Halo probably won't give birth for a while, but we haven't got all night! Come on, let's go!"

And that was how Hasan found himself at the top of the stairs, Luna at his side, with hundreds of eyes staring up at
them.

An audible, Wow rose up from the student body as they took in Hasan's long dark brown hair, tied smartly with a black
ribbon, and dark dress robes with hints of green to match his eyes on the trim and on the cuffs. Some even had their
jaws on the floor as they realize the reason Luna's dress was so damn enchanting was that it was made out of long
silver strings...hairs. But for the life of them, no one could remember why a dress made out of hair was ever so creepy.

Severus from his shadowed corner dipped his head, remembering when he had found the girl wandering through the
Forbidden Forest. You are collecting unicorn hair?...For what? he had asked. It's a surprise, she had answered.

"Surprise indeed, Miss Lovegood," he conceded, melding into the shadows once more.

Not that he would ever admit it, but he actually wished the two children the best for the night. As for himself, he hoped he
wouldn't have to pry too many horny couples apart...perhaps he could just send Minerva? Tip her off and then make a run
for it? Yes, that would do nicely.
A/N: I know it is a little shorter than usual...but then I was really sad to get only 7 reviews last chapter...And I know
that at least 100 times as many people read that chapter alone... :( So I was very disappointed to say the least.

These chapters take me months to plan and weeks to write. Thank you to those who have reviewed though. You
make me feel that this is actually worth doing.

If you desperately need something to review about:

a) unistral

b) threstcorn

c) cornstral

:D Until next time.

*Chapter 40*: I Put a Spell on You Pt 2
A/N- Thank you very much for reviewing last chapter. They mean a lot to me and it warms my heart to know so many
people want to see this story to its completion. Sorry for whipping Snape and Molly out last time.

Anyway, here's part 2 of I Put a Spell on You. Enjoy!

.oOo.

Hasan woke tiredly. Reaching for his wand on the nightstand before realizing it was under his pillow. He still couldn't
open his eyes. It felt like he had just gone to bed! As the seconds ticked by, more of the night began to trickle into his
memory. Lights. Beats. Music. From the Weird Sisters most probably. Some weird muggle CD Hermione had brought.
(One of the songs was I Put a Spell on You). Dancing. Spinning. He had let Luna twirl him for Salazar's sake! Minerva
and Severus being pushed towards the dance floor by a conniving Albus Dumbledore. And then Draco coming over
awkwardly, Tracey asking Hasan for a dance, trading partners. And then...Neville and Daphne apologizing as Ron came
bursting into the room, clearly drunk, and stumbling into Lavender Brown who had somehow escaped from Filch and
snuck into the Great Hall. Needless to say that Lavender and Ron had a talking to by Severus, who enjoyed being taken
off of the 'shine-a-Lumos-on-intimate-couples' duty.

His heart was beating fast, not allowing him to fall gently back to sleep, and then it came to him. Today was the day he
was going to go home with the Malfoys. Fuck.

Groaning and now fully awake, Hasan got out of bed and began packing. He hid the invisibility cloak, the Marauder's
Map, and the Black Blood Book under several layers of wards, clothes, and textbooks. (The Malfoy dagger was always on
his person because for some odd reason, every time he put it down it reappeared in his sleeve or on his belt
depending.) Hopefully Draco wouldn't go through his stuff, but that was what the wards were for in any case. He had lots
to do today before Draco at least got up. Including visiting one special snake he wasn't sure what to do with.

Melusine was tame- ish, right? He could just shrink her...right? Hasan wasn't so sure. He could, of course, just leave her
in the Chamber of Secrets. Either way, he wanted to talk with her before leaving, just to let her know he wouldn't be able
to visit for a while...

.oOo.

Draco Malfoy awoke, extremely unhappy for a reason that escaped his drowsy mind. Then it all came flooding back:
Hasan was going to go home with him today. Today. In an instant, Draco was up, breathing harshly against his
headboard. Emotions coursed through him, tearing holes through his heart, not at all soothing or lovely or welcome.
Hasan was coming home with him today.

He wasn't entirely sure what to feel. On one hand, he was nervous. Would Hasan forgive him for all his sins? For
working for the Dark Lord? On the other hand he wasn't sure if Hasan should forgive him. Should he take this opportunity
and turn Hasan over? Yes, he was horrified when Severus went down. Yes, he was distraught about his future when the
Dark Lord had crucio'd him for rambling, but if he gave him Harry Potter- the Harry Potter, surely he would be above such
petty torture. Wouldn't the Dark Lord thank him? Give him a place of honor and restore his family to prominence?

Tired as he was, he couldn't think clearly enough to know that this idea was insane, that a fully corporal Dark Lord was
much more dangerous than that creepy humanoid thing. But perhaps his best ideas just didn't come in the morning.

That was when he decided to go down to the Great Hall to enjoy a quiet breakfast, before the professors got up.
Throwing on his school robes and quietly exiting the Slytherin domain, he made his way up out of the dungeons,
satisfied that he would not run into anyone on his way there.

So then, why was Hasan exiting the girl's bathroom? And why was there a tiny green snake curled around his arm?

.oOo.

King's Cross in the daylight was whirring with action. Hogwarts' students home for the holidays had hopped on the ten
o'clock train, arriving just before noon at platform nine and three-quarters. The ride to the platform was dismal at best. As
it wasn't as full as it was at the beginning of the year, the train afforded Hasan and Draco each separate compartments.
Not that they really couldn't stand each other- they would have to, for the sake of sanity alone, for the next few weeks.

Draco alighted from the train gracefully, shrunken trunk in hand and owl cage in the other. Zephyrus, his little white owl,
hooted indignantly at being jostled around but was curiously observing the station with large unblinking eyes. So what if
Hasan was supposed to come with him? Draco wasn't his babysitter, Hasan could find his own way. It wasn't like Lucius'
striking blond hair was easy to miss. Neither was Narcissa's flowing golden mane. Draco shrugged off any of his
remaining guilt as he approached his family with his trademark smirk.

"Mother! Father!" Draco called, face open and hopeful. Had they been informed that his first report to the Dark Lord had
gone well? Were they proud of him?

"Dragon!" Narcissa cooed, wrapping her boy in her willowy arms, taking a deep breath as she did so. Narcissa's pale
blue eyes shone with happiness, even as Lucius' hardened to steel.

"Draco?" Lucius asked delicately, taking another sweep of the station. Draco froze in his mother's embrace. "Where is
Hasan?"

Draco stiffened, reluctantly disentangling himself from Narcissa's hair. The use of Hasan's first name was not lost on
him. He clenched his fists to his side, reigning in his irrational jealousy and anger. Calm down, he tried to tell himself,
they would be turning Hasan over to the Dark Lord soon. Who cared what they called him? And yet, Draco could feel his
features slide beneath his mask, a defensive strategy even though he knew there was no threat.

"I don't know, Father," Draco replied nonchalantly, turning a bit to glimpse the Hogwarts Express exit the station. When he
turned back around, he was startled to find Lucius' unforgiving stare boring into his soul.

"Draco," Lucius repeated sternly, causing Draco to want to cower. This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. Why were
they so angry with him?

"Draco, dear, we need to find him," his mother said softly. "It's not safe for him to be out here alone."

If he didn't know better, he'd say that his mother was genuinely worried. The trembling bottom lip, the wet eyes. No
wonder they had been able to trick Dumbledore into handing over custody of the Boy-Who-Lived!

"I under-"

"Well, let us thank Salazar I found you," Hasan said dryly, suddenly at Draco's side. Hasan raised one eyebrow in Draco
direction as if in challenge, as Narcissa swooped upon her second son. Even Lucius cracked a smile as he made to
grab Raven's cage from him.

"Why did you take so long?" Draco asked, not succeeding in disguising his sneer.

"Why indeed?" Hasan returned, unamused, as the new and improved Malfoy family headed towards the floo.

.oOo.

Hasan watched as Draco avidly avoided eye contact with him and inwardly sighed. He had felt they had made such
strides last night, but maybe that was just the firewhiskey someone had spiked the punch with talking. Either way, Hasan
had been hopeful that perhaps their tentative relationship could be mended. It was clear to see now that his hopes were
misplaced.

:Do not fret, Hasan.: Melusine whispered from his sleeve. :Just because the Dragon is scared, does not mean that you
have to be.:

If anyone heard the slight hissing sound, no one made a comment. Draco stiffened slightly as he recalled seeing the
little green snake wrapped around Hasan's arm that morning. He had little doubt in his mind that it was the same snake
that 'Moody' had tried to kill and which magically showed up in the Common Room that day. Months of wondering where
in the hell that snake had gone to and now this. Here. Now. The bloody snake was on Hasan's arm.

Draco couldn't take it anymore. Months of plotting against this boy who stood beside him now, wiping soot off his
Slytherin robes, months of prying to report to the Dark Lord, to find that not only was Hasan the savior of the Wizarding
World, but was in the home of the Dark Lord's greatest supporters- his home, in other words- and his parents were
angry at Draco for not escorting the little hero from the train. Un-fucking-believable.

"Mother, I don't feel so well," Draco announced. "I think I'll rest for a while."

Hasan looked up through his lashes at Draco's pitiful excuse, then watched in curiosity as Narcissa pursed her lips.

"Draco? Can I speak with you in the kitchen for a minute?" Her sharp eyes belied her sweet tone and for a second,
Hasan felt a pang of sympathy for his...frenemy. Apparently Draco also picked up on her nuance and followed his mother
into the adjoining room with his head bent slightly down. From where Hasan was standing, he could see the mother and
son speaking in hushed tones through the glass doors. Perhaps the transparency was supposed to set Hasan at ease,
but until Draco sorted through his demons, Hasan would never feel one hundred percent safe in his house. In their
house.

Lucius picked off a nonexistent piece of lint from his robes after he had cast a general cleaning charm from the fireplace.

"I apologize for my son," Lucius began softly. "I cannot fully explain. It's complicated."

Hasan nodded, straightening up to look the Malfoy lord in the eye. Lucius nearly gasped as his emerald eyes were fully
trained on him, surrounded by shoulder-length inky black hair. He looked so much like James and Lily, every much the
Harry James Potter- the Boy-Who-Lived.

Hasan thought back to the glimpses of memories he had seen of Altair and Lucius, wondering if Lucius truly knew
everything that was going on. Most likely not.

"I understand complexity, sir," Hasan told him steadily. And his voice was like a millennia crumbling from stone.

Lucius nodded once. "You can call me Lucius," he said then added, "Can I take your cloak?"

Hasan nodded, shrugging his cloak off with practiced ease. Lucius stared. There was a snake- SNAKE- on Hasan's
arm.

:Manners, Hasan. Introduce us,: Melusine smirked.

:Of course,: Hasan smiled.

If Lucius was shocked to find a snake beneath his new son's cloak, it was nothing compared to how he felt watching
Hasan converse with said snake. And not just any snake...

"Lucius, I'd like to introduce Melusine," Hasan said kindly, raising his arm for Melusine to taste the air around his face.

Lucius looked a bit odd, as if he were spacing out. Hadn't Draco told him about his pareseltongue abilities back in
second year? Right, Lupin had obliviated them...but Severus still knew. So did that mean Severus and Lucius weren't
communicating in terms of this whole Altair-Hasan debacle?

"Lucius-?" Hasan asked worriedly as the man remained silent. "Lucius?"

Slowly, the man before him nodded. "That snake...where did you find it?"

Hasan bit his lower lip, thinking what this answer would gain him. Had Lucius met this snake before? That would be
impossible, right? Unless Barty Crouch Jr. had shown Lucius the snake beforehand...? But even that was a stretch.

"Barty Crouch Jr. practiced the unforgiveables on some snakes. I simply vanished this one and took her."

Lucius shuddered involuntarily. So not only did Barty break the law (why was he not surprised?) but Hasan knew exactly
who 'Moody' really was. Not even to mention the fact that...

"Melusine, that is an unusual name," Lucius murmured, reaching out to pet her. "However did you choose it?"

"It just sort of came to me," Hasan admitted slowly.

"Indeed," Lucius said, giving Melusine an odd look. "The Dark Lord had a painting of Melusine near the old Potions Lab. I
am just startled is all."

Before Hasan could remark how odd it was for Lucius to suddenly become nostalgic for fine art, the door to the kitchen
had opened, leaving Draco and Narcissa in its wake.

"Tipsy?" Lucius called, not surprised as a house elf wrapped in a green pillowcase popped into existence. "Would you
show Hasan to his room, please?"

"I is pleased to be aiding Master Malfoy, sir! Master Hasan can follow Tipsy if he pleases!"

As Hasan followed the funny house-elf out of the room, Draco let out a breath. Finally, he could speak frankly. Although,
that chastising by his mother had been a nice touch to the deception.
Lifting his head, Draco's silver eyes glittered.

"Mother, that was brilliant! Father, you too. I cannot believe that old fool Dumbledore fell for it!"

Narcissa creased her eyebrows in concern. "Draco?" she asked.

"Your acting," Draco continued on.

Lucius clear his throat, "Perhaps we should all sit down."

Narcissa moved towards the couch, but Draco stood firm.

"For what?" Draco asked.

"Dragon, sweetie, sit down," Narcissa sighed, tugging her boy gently by the arm.

"We're not acting." Lucius said, staring his son in the eye. Silver clashed upon silver. Nothing was said for a few
moments as Draco began to think.

Draco cleared his throat. "What do you mean? We're giving him to the Dark Lord aren't we?" Draco whispered.

Narcissa shook her head, eyes beginning to water.

"Draco, your father and I decided during the summer that...that the Dark Lord, Lord V-v-voldemort,"-Draco flinched-,"was
not who we thought he was. Actually, we had already come to that conclusion, but we never spoke about it. And now-"

Lucius picked up where his wife broke off, looking forlornly out the window. "Now, the Dark Lord has decided he wants
you and that is just something I cannot give."

Draco took in a shuddering breath. "You said last summer," he accused, painfully soft. Like a kitten. "You...you
TRAITORS!"

"Draco! Honey!"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! You will stop this incessant whining and sit down!"

"I don't listen to traitors!" he spat, "Or liars!"

Each word fell from his lips like a death sentence. How dare they do this to him? Bringing home Hasan, the fucking
GOLDEN BOY. To replace him.

"You will be quiet!" Lucius hissed, standing up to his full height, leaving no doubt in Draco's mind why people called him
the most fearsome Death Eater. If only they knew the truth.

"Draco, this doesn't change how we feel about you," Narcissa cried, "We understand. Dragon, we knew we would have to
tell you eventually, but the risks were too great to tell you before the Dark Lord could scan your mind! You would have
died!"

Draco began to hyperventilate. "You think I'm weak!" Draco snarled, "You kept me in the dark because you thought I
couldn't protect this family! My family, by the way. Not Hasan's! Not anyone else's!"

"Oh Draco..."

Lucius was at a loss for words as his son, spitting and hissing a second ago crumbled into himself in a pile of snot and
tears. Fragile came to mind, fragile and volatile. Lucius felt a stab of guilt as his son suffered, but he couldn't bring it
within himself to regret anything. If this was how his son acted now, he would have surely been dead months ago, right?
Nothing to regret then, right? Lucius watched numbly as Narcissa hugged her son to her chest, rocking them back and
forth as she murmured reassurances in his ear...

.oOo.

The next morning, Hasan and Draco found themselves sitting civilly beside each other for breakfast. Hasan's emerald
eyes were wary and alert, but Draco's were dull and the skin around them slightly puffy as if he had been crying most of
the night. Despite the fact that Christmas had already come and gone, neatly wrapped gifts sat on the table in front of
each boy, yet neither reached out to take them.
"Come on then, let's see what you've got!" Narcissa suggested kindly, sipping her tea.

Draco glanced sideways at Hasan before cautiously taking the gift nearest to him. Both boys unwrapped their gifts in
silence, the atmosphere heavily laden with unspoken secrets interwoven.

Hasan hardly noticed when he had finished unwrapping his first gift and so was slightly surprised to look down to see a
small blunt dagger. It tingled slightly of magic, causing the boy to look cautiously up to see if anyone was studying him.
Satisfied that he wasn't being spied upon, he sent out a little bit of his own magic to scan the surface. What he found had
him raising both eyebrows: liquid-like particles sliding over one another instead of the expectant solid. The blade was
shapeshifting! Turning it over, he noticed a little notecard and read:

Hey Pup,

I wasn't sure what to get you, b ut this seemed to b e the most practical thing I could find. It's a dagger that can unlock any
door. I know I can't make up for lost time, b ut I do care deeply ab out you, Har- (scibbled out) Hasan. Merry Christmas!

Your Godfather,

Sirius Black

Well, he couldn't deny it was practical. A warm feeling settled in his stomach as he realized how many people actually
cared about him. Perhaps they didn't know him yet, and perhaps they only remembered Harry Potter the baby, but it was
a nice feeling none-the-less. Glancing over at his neighbor now brother, Hasan nearly choked as Draco gazed at his
present in awe. It was a heavy old book of a slightly different edition than his own, but it was undeniably the same text:
Mind Magick by Omnia. Lucius smiled down at his son with pride.

"With this, you will learn to protect your mind," Narcissa added. "I have faith in you, our little Dragon. We trust you."

Hasan could only stare. So far, only Luna, Severus, and presumably Altair knew of the book, but now the Malfoys did as
well? He had already assumed that the Malfoys had turned coat without informing their son, but perhaps he was now in
the loop. His new parents certainly seemed much more subdued and lighter somehow, as if they were happy but
tentative after revealing the truth. Honestly, it was a little hard to hide the fact that Harry Potter was not in fact going to be
handed over to the Dark Lord...

Draco took in everyone's expressions warily.

"Thank you," he spoke clearly, then cleared his throat as if he suspected they wanted more from him. "Who sent it?"

Lucius' face fell for a fraction of a second. "Hasan's...previous guardian..."

"...I see."

Daphne's words echoed in his ear like an annoying fly. His name was Altair Castell. But like we said, he's b een dead for
years. And it could all just b e a silly coincidence...a silly coincidence...

"Yes, well-" Narcissa smiled tiredly.

"-Isn't he supposed to be dead?" Draco pried, silver eyes glaring daggers.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably. Even Hasan looked down, unsure of how to act now that so much information was out.

"I see," Draco said finally, voice dead. "I suppose you don't trust me as much as you want me to believe."

With that, the Malfoy heir stood up, book clamped against his side, and rushed as angrily as he could from the room.

A/N- It hasn't been quite a week since my last update, but I didn't want to leave you hanging with only half a chapter.
Notable things in this chapter: What's up with Melusine? Will Draco get over his temper tantrum? Will Draco turn
Dark? Till next time!

Thanks to:

DarkRavie, Umbrardor, migotka21, stonegnome1, Remvis, Serpent91, Ariz0na-Sky, Snek de la keeper of Lonk,
Nightcrawlerfw, phoenix-rob, anon, EndlessChains, lightskiller, blagyz, krabi, medward, DeadLuck666, Anon,
absmmckechnie, Pinks99, history, Thegirlfromhufflepuff, ProdigyPsycho, Nagilover4ever, ORKCHILD, & Xelar8.
You guys rock! I don't expect anything for this chapter since you were supposed to have it last Friday anyway.
Consider this a gift ;)
*Chapter 41*: Heartlines
A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews everyone!

We are wrapping up so PLEASE take the time to leave a little note!

"I've seen it in you.

The entrails of the animals,

The blood running through.

But in order to get to the heart,

I think sometimes you'll have to cut through."

-Heartlines by Florence and the Machine

Return of Emerald

Chapter 40: Heartlines

It was nearing noon when the storm outside began to brew. Lucius had retired to his private chambers after his wife had
fallen asleep on the couch downstairs. He was just about to take a nap himself to get rid of his pounding headache,
when a sharp rapping from his window had him sitting ramrod straight.

Blearily, he made his way to the window to find what he feared: an owl. With a package. With a long defeated sigh, Lucius
let the little owl hop inside so that he could relieve it of its burden. The package itself was rectangular and thin while the
letter was rolled up and tied with a small black satin ribbon. Taking a deep breath, Lucius began to read.

"Dear Lucius,

Merry Christmas. I hope Draco enjoyed his gift, it's the least I could do since you are taking care of my son. Again, I'm
sorry, b ut I find myself unab le to care for Hasan at the moment. I have given you very little over the years b ut this is
something which I hope you'll enjoy. My letters are not the most secure, or at least, I am given to b elieve that, if Severus'
admonitions are anything to go b y. The Black Family Mirrors are the most secure and more instantaneous
communication devices I have access to. If I say your name, or you say my name, your face will appear in my mirror and
vice versa. I will need to contact you a few more times in the future. All I ask is that you continue to follow my instructions
and keep the mirror with you at all times.

With much love,

Altair"

Lucius sighed, running his fingers along the mirror's edge. Another thing that Altair had touched. He glanced across the
room where the Malfoy dagger was once again in his possession, pulsing with emotions so full of love that it made
Lucius feel terribly and despairingly empty after setting it back down. He had given at times to running his fingertips
lightly across the blade and hilt, reveling in a world of unknowable warmth. He tried not to do it in front of Narcissa,
feeling as though he were cheating on her, but even she had glimpsed him once or twice caressing the thing, and she
never made a sound. Now, here he was, sitting a grown man alone on his bed, with another token.

Lost in a world that was no longer real, eyes already shutting, Lucius slowly melted onto his bed, mirror in hand,
oblivious to the shouts could be heard from the hallway. For he was too tired to care as snuggled into the covers which
Tipsy had thought to throw over him...

.oOo.

Draco stormed out of his room, hand covering his face in an attempt to calm himself. He was just so, so, so MAD at
everyone! Everything seemed to be happening all at once and he had no time to process any of it, but of course everyone
else did. Everyone knew of his parents' allegiances except for him, everyone knew of Altair except for him, fucking hell
who knew Hasan was Harry before him as well? So of course his parents and everyone else were fine and cool with
everything- they knew beforehand what was going to happen. But not Draco. Draco couldn't be trusted. He punched the
stone wall, wishing he could somehow transfer his anger to the very roots of his ancestral home. He could feel himself
imploding from the inside and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

As if on que, Hasan chose that moment to appear at the head of the stairs. In his hand he clutched a blunt looking knife-
vaguely Draco recognized it as the gift Hasan had gotten from the ex-mass murderer Sirius Black. Which then reminded
Draco about his own gift. And why he was angry in the first place. He clenched his fists at his side as he turned to glare
at his new brother.

"How could you not tell me who you were?" Draco yelled, face red with fury.

Hasan regarded him for a minute before placing his dagger gently on the banister. He knew Draco would need to come
to terms with his true identity but he had hoped- perhaps foolishly- that Draco would be a little more mature than this. But
he was in Malfoy territory now and the least he could do was humor the boy's temper tantrums.

"Draco, there was no reason to tell you," Hasan reasoned slowly. His emerald eyes dulled as he reverted back to his
emotionless state. Apparently calmness and apathy were related.

"I'm your friend," Draco cried exasperatedly, "Or was that a lie too?"

"Those are two entirely unrelated topics. Just because we are engaged in a 'friendship' doesn't mean I am contractually
obligated to tell you everything about myself. I thought you were satisfied enough with Hasan Castell. Why now when you
learn the truth do you insist I have violated some sort of friendship clause?"

"Because friends tell each other things, dammit!"

"Do friends also spy on each other for a Dark Lord to slaughter?" Hasan hissed.

"That's different!" Draco protested uneasily. "You don't say 'No' to the Dark Lord."

"And yet, your parents have," Hasan replied silkily, advancing on the boy with slow steps. "How does that make you feel?
Betrayed? Saddened? Mistrusted?"

Draco tore his gaze away from the other, face burning with emotion.

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about! My parents were just trying to protect me!"

"Really, because you seemed quite adamant they didn't trust you earlier," Hasan whispered, starting to lose his iron-
willed control. Why couldn't Draco just give in and admit he was wrong? Why fight in circles until one dropped dead from
old age?

"It's not about them!" Draco growled, taking a step forward so that he was now nose to nose with the emerald-eyed teen.
"It's about you and about how you lied about being the Boy-Who-Lived! I thought we told each other things. I gave you the
Malfoy dagger for Salazar's sake!"

"Dammit Draco, if you're so upset about it, why did you never bother to think about it? If you had used even an ounce of
your pitifully malleable brain you would have figured it out by now. Who the bloody fuck did you think saved you from the
basilisk? The castle from an immortal Dark Lord? Longbottom? Don't make me laugh."

Draco lifted his silver eyes to meet Hasan's and in that instant he could see the fire burning beneath those emerald
depths. Something had always seemed off about Hasan, but now he could identify it, unmasked from its dull jade
façade. Hasan was dangerous. Not just because he acted oddly or that he was eerily calm at times, but because Hasan
would not hesitate to slit his throat if it came down to survival. Had Hasan really defeated the Dark Lord before? Had he
really slain a basilisk?

He was suddenly reminded of his first flying lesson when Hasan had threatened to break his arm. Had that boy been
lurking beneath the surface all this time? Draco shivered. That was not a pleasant thought.

"Look, Hasan," Draco began.

"No, you need to look, Draco," Hasan said, grabbing the boy's shoulders keeping them face to face. "The world does
NOT revolve around you. There are so many things that I don't know about. That you don't know about. And they are
happening whether we want them to or not. This is war and we all have our parts to play. I never wanted to be the bloody
savior, but thanks to the Dark Lord and Dumbledore I have no choice. You do. You can continue mopping around like a
prat or you can actually act your age and start thinking how you're going to save our arses from Voldemort by learning
Occlumency."
Draco swallowed audibly and made to step back. Hasan let him.

"I better start reading that book, huh?" Draco said, offering Hasan a tentative smile.

Hasan gave him an approving nod, snatched his knife off the handrail, and continued on his way to his room...

.oOo.

5:40pm

Narcissa finished placing the last porcelain dish on the table, just as a bright door chime rang throughout the house.
She looked up through her long lashes, a question dropping from her lips.

"Now, who could that be?"

Everyone else at the table looked up curiously as the bell rang again, more insistently. Lucius raised his hand.

"I will get it." Whoever it was must have thought themselves pretty damn important to call on the Malfoys right before
dinner. Lucius shouldn't have been nearly so surprised then when, casting a spell on the door to let him see outside
without them seeing in, none other than Minister Fudge stood outside tapping his foot impatiently on their marble steps.

Schooling his features into the perfect mask, Lucius opened the door.

"Minister," he greeted formally, not opening the door fully, which would have falsely signified a welcome.

"Mr. Malfoy," Fudge returned stiffly, gesturing inside. "Is Mr. Potter here?"

Lucius paused a moment for his eyes to rove appraisingly over the minister. Fudge was wearing a neatly starched dark
blue robes with fancy cufflinks in the shape of a lion's head. The trim was purple and lighter blue stripes and was but a
thin strip down the Minister's inner folds. He was here to make an impression then. Ten guesses why.

"He is indeed. We were just sitting down for dinner." The tacit message was clear: call back later. But when Minister
Fudge refused to do anything but perhaps gesture more insistently inside as if Lucius were somehow brain damaged,
Lucius lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow.

After another moment, Fudge asked if Mr. Potter could be procured from the inside for a walk around the gardens. Lucius
was just about to make a less vague and less polite comment for him to leave when Hasan opened the door a bit wider
to fit his string bean frame in sight.

"Minister Fudge, a pleasure," Hasan greeted smoothly, lightly brushing against Lucius' side as he went to shake the
Minister's hand.

While Lucius didn't mind playing the political game with Fudge, he had had a very trying few days and would have rather
told the man to come back next time. It wasn't as if Lucius didn't have enough credit to easily dismiss the Minister without
backlash. It also wasn't as if Fudge couldn't find the place again. But if Hasan insisted on having this meeting today, then
who was he to stop him. And besides, Lucius had to admit he was just a tiny tad curious as to how Altair's son would
handle himself.

Lucius nodded his assent as Hasan brushed his side, nonchalantly pulling back into the house.

"I will leave you two to talk for a few minutes, my son," Lucius said very deliberately. "I will come to fetch him in
approximately ten minutes so that we can eat together as a family."

Something small in Hasan's heart rejoiced, but he knew it was mainly to tell Fudge he was being watched and couldn't
take all day. Apparently the message was received for Fudge nodded once, stiffly.

"I will be sure to return Mr. Potter to this very door in ten minutes or less."

Lucius' face betrayed nothing. "Good," he said shortly and gracefully shut the door so that the Boy-Who-Lived and the
politician were alone.

From within the house, Lucius cast a spell to display the gardens outside since he was the master of the wards at
Malfoy Manor. There was no way he was going to leave Hasan unattended with that man. Minister he was, but idiot also,
and Lucius wouldn't put it past him to try and cast a compulsion on Hasan or otherwise try to coerce him into giving into
whatever demands the Minister had set. With another wave of his wand, the sounds from outside filtered into the room-
not loud enough that anyone in the next room could hear what they were doing.
Hasan and Fudge walked side by side, slowly, towards the lavish Malfoy garden in back. A peacocks raised their heads
in curiosity before returning to what they were doing. Presently, Fudge paused and faced the golden boy straight on.

"I am surprised to see you suing the Daily Prophet for libel," Fudge began, his face pleasant with a smile.

Hasan betrayed nothing. "I see nothing so surprising about that."

"Yes, but well," Fudge stammered, "Sometimes we just take things the wrong way. The Daily Prophet has a right to free
speech-"

"As I too have a right to sue them for writing that which is false."

The minister's smile faltered. "Surely you understand that everyone is just dying to know about you. The Boy-Who-Lived,
among us since the start!"

Hasan stared at him impassively. "I understand you don't want dissent between me and the Prophet, which is owned by
the Ministry- you in other words. What I don't understand is what you intend to do about it."

Fudge seemed unable to chew on that as he sputtered on his words. "Mr.- Mr. Potter, you are only a boy. There is no way
you can possibly win this lawsuit."

Hasan ignored how Fudge was calling him Potter, because he didn't really need the man to use his real name, did he?

"Yet you expect me to kill the Dark Lord for you, isn't that right? You and every other godforsaken witch and wizard wants
me to do their dirty work for them, but I for one will not do anything for their sakes. They can get up and do it themselves if
they want him gone so badly. Another dark lord will rise up in due time anyway."

"Mr. Potter!" Fudge exclaimed, unable to understand what the boy was saying. Having lived under a delusion for so long
he didn't immediately realize the mistake in his next words. "That's not the way you're supposed to act! You're supposed
to support us in the war effort like you promised! You're famous, don't you see? All you have to do is tell people to calm
down every once in the while and attend Ministry functions. Didn't Albus tell you?"

It was as if a thundercloud passed over the Manor. Hasan's face became clouded and dark as he pinned the minister
with his gaze.

"Albus?" he queried lightly. "Do I look like Albus Dumbledore to you? I am not him and anything which you have agreed
upon between yourselves has no bearing on me! Minister Fudge, will all due respect I see no benefit in this
conversation...for either of us. I suggest you leave me to my dinner." With that, Hasan swept towards the house, angry at
himself for failing to remain completely neutral. Perhaps it had been the argument with Draco earlier which had Hasan
hanging on his last thread...

Fudge hesitated for a minute before calling the boy back.

"Harry Potter, I think you are making a grave mistake. I am very sorry to do this but it's for the greater good- Imperio!"

"-Protego!"

Hasan turned his head slightly to see the minister get blasted off his feet, twenty yards into the air and into the shrubbery.

"I suggest you refrain from that mode of persuasion in the future," Hasan yelled playfully on his shoulder. "I defeated the
Dark Lord, didn't you know? Who knows what else I have up my sleeve?"

Fudge groaned upon the ground before struggling to his feet. Maybe he had underestimated the Potter boy just a tad.
Looking back on the entire conversation, Fudge couldn't help but think he had royally screwed up. He had assumed the
boy would be very much Dumbledore's puppet like James had been, but nothing could have been further from the truth.
Fudge should have researched the boy more. If only all the time turners hadn't been smashed, he would have done it all
over again in a heartbeat.

Inside the house, Narcissa and Lucius were torn between pride that their son had upheld himself properly and defended
himself when necessary and full of rage that Fudge had played such a lowly trick. Lucius knew that Dolores Umbridge
had Fudge's permission to use the unforgiveables in her line of work- which was the education regulation department,
so he wasn't entirely surprised that Fudge did as all. Needless to say Lucius would be changing the wards to Malfoy
Manor to eject Fudge the next time he decided to come snooping around- most likely to beg for forgiveness.
Draco, meanwhile, was caught mouth agape, heart pounding. He knew Hasan had an edge to him but fighting the
Minister of Magic and arguing with your brother were two different things. Draco swelled with pride partly, but his other
part felt nothing but shame. Hasan- Harry, did not want to be the Ministry's toy. He refused to be used and absolutely did
not relish in his fame. Draco had been wrong, and not for the first time either. Would Hasan accept his fragile truce if he
chose to pursue it?

Dinner that night was peaceful.

The sky began to cry.

.oOo.

Severus Snape carefully strode into the throne room of Lestrange Manor. He hadn't yet been called to the Dark Lord's
side though the Caedescorpus Potion had been taken at least a week ago and thus the Dark Lord had been bodily
resurrected. This meant that Severus was probably the only inner circle Death Eater who hadn't seen his lord's new body
yet as he was ordered to maintain his post at Hogwarts. Would the Dark Lord return to his Tom Riddle persona? Would
he become the crazed fool he was the night the Potters died? Or would he be something less than human? Less than
alive?

Severus knelt on the cold stone floor, joining the nearly completed circle. Through his mask, Severus could see Dolohov,
Rookwood, Mulciber, Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange, as well as Barty Crouch Jr. who was currently
unpolyjuiced. The Dark Lord had not yet entered, for which Severus was grateful. Checking one last time that his
occlumency shields were in place, he let his mind linger over the noticeable gap in the formation. There were three
missing places directly across from the giant golden throne designating the Malfoys' places, though Draco and Narcissa
were most like loyal guests since they were still unmarked. The Malfoys had never been late before...The torches
flickered.

Yes, the Malfoys were traitors to the cause, but so was he! Was their absence telling of something more? Were they
compromised and currently being tortured in another room? Or had they just decided they would simply ignore the Dark
Lord's summons? Before Severus could continue down this train of thought, the throne room doors burst open and out
stepped a tall lithe form swathed in a black cloak. There were several sharp intakes of breath as the Dark Lord stepped
within, drawing about him a grand shadow which sucked the air clean of all light and warmth. The torches exhaled
before flickering back to life.

"My loyal servants..." Voldemort's sibilant voice permeated the room. "We seem to be missing some of our number."

Like a snake, he struck forward suddenly with a shouted "CRUCIO!" He held the curse, wand aloft, as he glided to his
throne, red ruby eyes gleaming from beneath his hood. Barty Crouch Jr. lay crumpled on the ground, screams torn out of
his unused body until Severus could no longer hear them. It was only when the screaming stopped that Severus realized
he had indeed been yelling the entire time. The small group shifted uncomfortably as the Dark Lord threw back his hood,
revealing to Severus for the first time his ophidian head, bald and white as marble with a slice of nose and thinly painted
lips. Salazar! The Dark Lord was hideous! Severus managed to school his features, but Bellatrix apparently could not
help from gushing at the sight of her prince charming. ("Oh! My Lord!")

Lord Voldemort sat ramrod straight in his golden chair, observing his supposedly 'inner circle' with a discriminating eye.

"Crouch..." he hissed silkily amid the man's whimpers. "Can you tell us who has not deigned to answer the Dark Lord's
summons?"

Fearing it was a trick question that he would be punished for no matter what the answer, Crouch hesitated before
stammering, "Th-the Malfoys, m-my Lord!"

"And why, do you think-" the Dark Lord continued lowly- "that the Malfoys have not shown their faces here?"

Ahh, that was the crux of it, wasn't it? Severus thought to himself. The Malfoys had adopted Hasan Castell. Lord
Voldemort's most faithful followers had adopted the Boy-Who-Lived and now were missing from the Dark Lord's meeting.
And who was supposed to keep watch over Draco and by extension the rest of the Malfoy family? The idiot who continued
to stutter out barely acceptable answers instead of prostrating himself and kissing the Dark Lord's robes! Not that Snape
was complaining. A smarter man than Crouch might have figured out Severus' true loyalties by now...

"It-It might be that the Malfoys have...adoptedthePotterboymyLord!"

The Dark Lord paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate this information before returning his burning gaze to his
servant.
"And why and I just hearing about this now?" he whispered, "When Severus here, my dear, loyal spy, had already
informed me about the boy's whereabouts DAYS AGO?"

Crouch hugged himself tighter, as if to protect himself from the torment that would surely come.

"My Lord! I am sor-"

"CRUCIO! The Dark Lord does not accept apologies! Three of my most loyal followers have disappeared from my ranks
tonight. Three have aligned themselves with that fool Dumb ledore. Those three will die! Bellatrix!" The woman stopped
her cooing immediately to look up at him with admiration shining in her eyes. "You are partly responsible for this betrayal
for you are Narcissa's sister! You are supposed to know when one of ours has dissented from the ranks. Crucio!"

Bellatrix fell to the ground, voice hoarse by the third minute, her husband staring impassively at the wall opposite him. As
Bellatrix recovered, the Dark Lord's eyes swept over the room again. Many shuddered, their fear only shown by the slight
shaking of their knees.

"Bellatrix, I expect better in the future, let that be a reminder to you."

"Oh yes! Yes, my Lord!" Bellatrix breathed, face flushed with a weird mixture of pain and lust.

"However, some of us have outlived our usefulness..." and here the Dark Lord's wand swiveled to land on the still
quaking Barty Crouch Jr. The man began to panic; Severus could see it in the way his head shifted slightly from side to
side, looking for the exit that was not there. Voldemort lifted his wand to strike, his snakelike eyes never wavering from
his target. "Avada-"

"SLYTHERIN'S LOCKET!"

And the pain and the shock and the horror that raced through the Dark Lord in that single instant was enough to force
Hasan Castell from his mind.

.oOo.

"What did you say?" Voldemort asked in a ghastly whisper, lowering his wand a fraction of a hair.

"I said," Crouch gasped, "I said Slytherin's locket."

Severus's spy instincts were on high alert as he watched this curious exchange playing out before him. He had no doubt
in his mind that they were not talking simply of a locket, but a horcrux. One which Albus had suspected was a horcrux
from the start. 'Tom found particular significance in items b elonging to Slytherin as they represented b oth his magic and
his heritage.'

"And what do you presume to know about Slytherin's locket?" the Dark Lord queried, voice low and dangerous. The
others tentatively watched the scene like they would a quidditch match, but no one dared to show how openly curious
they were about something which pardoned his life.

"I know that Dumbledore went to a cave with my house-elf to retrieve Slytherin's Locket." He was going to have to
seriously thank Winky later, for he remembered he did not want to listen to her at first, but she had insisted on telling him
everything that had happened. "H-he had to drink a potion and-"

"That is enough," the Dark Lord growled, quietly. It would really be easiest to just kill him. He did seem to know too
much...but now his whole inner circle knew- the most dangerous dark wizards he could find- and if he killed Crouch now,
that would most certainly verify that the locket was important. It would only be a matter of time before the others pried a
little too deeply. No, he would have to let the imposter live. He needed him to continue out the school year after all. "You
have done well," he hissed, dangerous tone belying the praise. Briskly, as to not let anyone dwell on what had just
transpired, he turned red eyes to Severus.

"Severus?" he asked expectantly.

Checking his shields one last time, Severus began to speak what he had rehearsed with Albus a few days prior.

"Dumbledore desperately wants to hear the prophecy again, but now he has the Potter (he spat the name) boy to get it
for him. I believe Dumbledore wants to retrieve the prophecy in July, so his presence will not be missed during the
school year."

Voldemort mused over this new information. He had been sending the boy visions of the Department of Mysteries for a
while now. Would Dumbledore's plan to use the boy cause his visions to backfire? Or was he curious enough to
question Dumbledore's motives?

"You have done well, Severus." His words were distant as if he were thinking very far away. Because he was. He was
thinking about how best to kill two birds with one stone.

The meeting continued.

.oOo.

A dark stone throne-room dissolved into pale sunlight which filtered into an unfamiliar room. Gold trim, beige paint. A
lavish dresser with crystal knobs. Where was he? Blinking a few times, Hasan began to orient himself. He was in Malfoy
Manor. In his own room (though he liked to think of it as just a guest room). Safe, for the moment at least. Shivers
wracked through him from the aftermath of the cruciatous curse. The effects echoed in his aching limbs and he had to
take two huge gulping breathes just to stabilize himself.

So the Dark Lord knew of the Malfoys' betrayal. Which meant, somewhere within the manor, Lucius was in utter agony
from his Dark Mark. Meanwhile, Severus was stuck with that snake-faced bastard, enduring who knew what. Hasan
sighed, attempting to erase the emotions from his mind. The utter helplessness as someone new learned his secret.
Had Dumbledore really claimed the locket?

Hasan forced himself to roll out of bed- ever so slowly- before slowly making his way across the room. But something
stopped him. For in the corner, where his lay trunk, there was a slight rattling. Melusine, who was awake and preening
on his dresser looked over with a keen look.

:It ssoundsss like itsss ringing,: Melusine suggested softly, watching as the boy cautiously approached the trunk, wand
first, and thrust it open.

Brow wrinkled in thought, Hasan extracted the only thing that did indeed seem to be 'ringing'. The Black Family Mirrors...

A/N: Fudge has made his move! Voldemort knows that Crouch knows about the locket! The mirror is ringing...

The end is near, my friends.

PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! (Because honestly, every person, every word, every letter counts.)
*Chapter 42*: Acquainted with the Night
A/N: This chapter is...sort of like the prologue to the scenes I have been imagining since the entire start of the story.
(Sorry, I got ahead of myself a few chapters ago and my FAVORITE chapter is still to come.) If time seems to fly too fast,
just remember that this is just a set up. I am immensely proud of this chapter. (It's more than 7,000 words and double
last chapter's word count. Why? Because last chapter I thought had more significant things such as Draco-Hasan
shenanigans.)

"I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain."

- Acquainted with the Night by Robert Frost

Return of Emerald

Chapter 41: Acquainted with the Night

Previously:

:It ssoundsss like itsss ringing,: Melusine suggested softly, watching as the b oy cautiously approached the trunk, wand
first, and thrust it open.

Brow wrinkled in thought, Hasan extracted the only thing that did indeed seem to b e 'ringing'. The Black Family Mirrors.

...

The mirror was smooth-edged though unconventional in shape, for it was but a portion of the original. Black had
supposedly altered the enchantments on this piece so that it would act as a one-way window. His claim was to be put to
the test now as Hasan grasped the mirror firmly in both hands, eager to watch the proceedings. Vaguely he noticed that
Melusine had slithered off of his dresser to observe the show as well.

The first thing Hasan saw was a blurry outline of a single head. In a matter of seconds, however, the image became
clear and crisp, depicting a startlingly accurate image of Lucius Malfoy, down to the man's unshaven whiskers. Granted it
was early in the morning, so of course the man hadn't done a shaving spell yet, but something told Hasan that Lucius
did not normally wake up with hellish bags beneath his bloodshot eyes. In fact, Lucius Malfoy looked downright ghastly,
belying the torture he had no doubt had to endure the night before.

The Malfoy lord blinked blearily a few times before the mirror's surface rippled like water. When the image righted itself,
not one, but two figures appeared, separated by a misty white line. Lucius on the left and Altair on the right with Tina (a
vivid violet) wrapped loosely around the latter's shoulders.

:That is my father,: Hasan explained to Melusine quickly.

:And the snake?:

:That would be Tina.: Hasan smiled.

Melusine took in Tina's small form, wrapped vine-like around her owner's father's shoulders, and hissed her approval. At
least she knew that her Hasan was being watched over by one of her kind, not that she was biased or anything, but
magical snakes did tend to keep excellent care of their young (except perhaps in times of hunger or draught where
cannibalism was more or less acceptable). In the mirror, Altair took in Lucius' haggard appearance and smiled albeit
sadly.

"The Dark Lord called a meeting last night," Lucius explained tiredly. "Needless to say he was not pleased when he
discovered our treason." Lucius lifted his left arm to show off the ugly black mark which was beginning to exhibit a red
tinge as if infected.

"So you and Narcissa have decided to stop attending meetings then?"
Lucius glared. "Ob viously, or I wouldn't be in nearly this much pain."

The sarcasm didn't seem to reach across the connection for Altair was very much serious when he replied, "I am sorry. I
hadn't realized you would stop so soon..."

"Well, your son was a bit of a giveaway..." Lucius clenched his teeth as a new wave of pain assaulted him through the
mark. "Altair, I don't mean to be rude, but was there an actual point to this meeting? Or did you just call to say hello?"

"Ah, yes..." Altair lifted Tina from his shoulders and placed her gently on an unseen table where she slithered away, her
brilliant blue back still within sight. When his gaze returned to the mirror it was from out of the face of a broken man, old
and weary. "I seem to understand you have some familiarity with the Department of Mysteries?" At Lucius' nod he
continued, "I need you to tell the Order of the Phoenix to go there Wednesday, July 7th."

Lucius nearly fell out of his chair. "For what?" he exclaimed. It wasn't everyday someone ordered you to take a top secret
organization strolling through the Ministry's most heavily guarded rooms.

"My sources tell me that this is the day that the Dark Lord plans on seizing the prophecy made about him and my son. I
need to make sure he does not."

Lucius nodded. He could see how the Dark Lord knowing the prophecy could pose some problems for the welfare of the
wizarding world.

"Also, if I am unable, and you will know if I am, could you please make sure the sword of Godric Gryffindor is returned to
Gringott's?"

Lucius stiffened as Griphook's words from earlier suddenly made sense: "Just think, b y the end of this war, I shall have
the sword of Godric Gryffindor hanging in our halls once more."

"So it was you who has tied up all our affairs with the goblins in knots!" Lucius accused with a triumphant air.

"Guilty as charged," Altair grinned, "But please do so. I can't bear to think I have not fulfilled a promise."

Lucius refrained from snorting. The sword was not his to promise, thus it was just the thing Altair would end up
promising. Feeling a bit silly, Lucius indulged him with a serious expression. "You have my word I will do my utmost,
should you be unable, to return the sword to the goblins."

"Thank you," Altair managed a sad smile. "Perhaps one day you will understand and not hate me."

His cryptic words faded as the mirror rippled its last.

.oOo.

Narcissa watched Lucius throughout the day, concern etched over her delicate features. In the morning, she watched her
husband stiffly enter the dining room, clutching his forearm in obvious pain. In the evening, she watched her husband
stiffly exit the dining room, clutching his forearm in obvious pain...

"Perhaps a pain-killer, dear? I know Severus-"

But Lucius had simply held up a hand and tiredly replied that nothing would be able to help him now. Maybe he wouldn't
die today, but one only lasted so long with the Dark Lord's constant punishment...

A little while later, he lay on the couch, an innumerable amount of empty flasks of pain-killers littered around him. They
had not called Severus yet- they (meaning Lucius) had not wanted to bother him (let him know how weak he truly was.)
Narcissa was too concerned to make fun of his stubborn pride.

Instead, she called Severus secretly at dinner time, unamused at her husband's antics. She would not let him die from
something as silly as pride, Merlin knew it was the leading killer of Malfoys. If anyone could help it would be Severus, and
to be honest, she really couldn't trust anyone else.

Severus stepped over the threshold, shrunken potions lining his long black cloak. Any Death Eater knew how
excruciating the Dark Lord's punishments could be and so Severus had brought along his most powerful numbing
potions and pain-killers. His dark eyes swept the room, landing critically upon Lucius who was fingering the Malfoy
dagger and breathing peacefully in sleep. Snape quirked an eyebrow, recognizing the dagger from the one Altair usually
kept in his own house, wondering how it had found its way here.
"He was- he was in pain earlier," Narcissa breathed in wonder, "He kept on twitching. I don't know what happened."

Severus hesitated, realizing that he was about to tread on thin ice. "What...do you know of the dagger he is holding?"

Narcissa frowned, "I know he has gotten into the habit of rubbing it when he thinks I'm not looking. He caught me
watching him a few times and his face turned bright red as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't have been
doing. I know it's just a dagger but I felt even then that I had trampled upon some forbidden ground."

"It is one of the Malfoy daggers," Severus said softly as Narcissa gasped in amazement.

"But-but we don't have anymore. We gave them away!"

"Someone must have given it back," Severus replied calmly, approaching the sleeping man. As he neared, he saw the
Dark Mark burning a black-red against the man's pale skin, yet it looked a bit better than it had that morning, which wasn't
saying much. With childlike curiosity, Severus reached out to touch the dagger. At first nothing happened, but then
Severus was assaulted by the most potent, suffocating love he had ever before felt. In utter shock, he froze on the spot,
causing Narcissa to rush to steady him.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Narcissa asked hurriedly. "Is it the dagger? Is it helping him?"

Severus gasped in her arms, shaken up considerably. He hadn't experienced much love in his lifetime, but he knew how
it was supposed to feel. He struggled to control his pounding heart, unable to put into words how the dagger affected
him and unwilling to share them with Narcissa. He couldn't tell her that Lucius was protected by a barrier of love, could
he? It would make her feel awkward at best, and horribly inadequate at worsts. How would she feel, knowing that her
love wasn't enough, that someone's love was holding the pain at bay?...As if to save him from answering, Lucius chose
that particular moment to wake up, cracking one silver eye open at a time.

"Se-Severus?" he asked sleepily, making to sit up. His fist was still tightly clenched around the knife, Severus noticed,
but refrained from commenting.

"Yes. How are you feeling?" Severus asked clinically, trying to detach himself from his personal thoughts.

Lucius blinked at him a moment before answering. "I have felt better to put it mildly. Was He very angry with us
yesterday?"

Snape grimaced, remembering how the Dark Lord had taken out his anger on anyone who dared to so much as look at
him the wrong way.

"Very," Severus said with a shudder.

"I am so glad, Narcissa, that you are unmarked," Lucius said tiredly.

"Our son as well," Narcissa added. "Though you seem to be doing better now." Her shrewdness of tone had two light
pinks spots appearing on Lucius' cheeks, though he remained as impassive as ever. It felt wrong to clutch the dagger at
home, like her was cheating on her and...he was, he knew. Deep down. With shame he began,

"-I"

"I am glad that the dagger has healing properties," Narcissa swiftly continued, realizing that her tone may have been a
tad too sharp. After all, who was she to complain about the dagger when it was clearly healing her husband?

"As am I," Lucius said after a moment. Then remembering Altair's conversation from before, he turned to Severus. "Is the
Order meeting anytime soon? The Department of Mysteries-"

"I know, I was just about to inform you of last night's proceedings but apparently I don't have to." Snape looked at him
oddly before asking, "Was there something else you wanted to discuss with Dumbledore?" Here, he looked pointedly at
Lucius' mark.

Lucius shook his head. "No, that was all."

Severus' gaze lingered on the dagger, questions filling his mind, before he demurely bid the two a good night. Somehow
Altair was involved and though he couldn't prove it, Severus had no doubt in his mind that Altair wouldn't just happen to
interfere when the Dark and the Light battled it out in the Department of Mysteries...

.oOo.
School had just resumed, with everyone much refreshed from their winter holidays. Everyone but Lucius that was.
Though he continued to keep Altair's dagger close, the Dark Lord's punishments kept increasing, until Lucius had to
take some of Severus' specially made pain potions...then some more...then some numbing potions...until nothing
helped to stifle the waves of agony.

Draco had watched his father's harrowing decline with horror-filled eyes. If Draco had had some lingering doubt as to
whether his parents had chosen the right side, this punishment all but solidified his opinion. Instead of thinking that the
punishment could have been avoided, Draco began to see things clearly: that punishments from the Dark Lord were
unavoidable. Just as his service to him was inescapable.

"It's awful," Draco had whispered one night to Hasan as they sat warming themselves by the fire, a game of exploding
snap between them.

"I know," Hasan had whispered before listening to something his pet snake, Melusine had to say. The hissing had been
really eerie at first, but Draco had somewhat gotten used to it. A minute later, Hasan and his snake were looking directly
at him.

"What?" Draco had questioned, eyebrows raised in worry.

"There might be a solution..."

Hasan had then proceeded to inform Malfoy about the Chamber of Secrets. How Melusine had found Salazar's private
study and how there might be some books still there that could possibly help his father.

The story itself was incredulous. Secret chamb ers? Hidden snakes? Well, it explained a few things, such as where
Hasan had kept his snake during the school year. It wasn't until later that he actually questioned why Hasan had
revealed all this to him now. Why not then? But perhaps it was because he knew there was no more going back for the
Malfoy family now. There was no way Draco could return to the Dark Lord's side that his family was on their 'to-kill' list. But
if Draco were being completely honest with himself, he no longer wanted to earn the Dark Lord's trust or respect. Family
came first in all things for the Malfoys. Besides, Draco quite liked having a friend again.

And this was how Draco found himself deep in the bowels of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, silver eyes the
size of galleons as he took in all the ancient scrolls and texts which lined the walls of Slytherin's private study.

"What's this?" Draco wondered as he pointed his light-tipped wand towards yet another ageless tome. "The Art of
Avoidance: How to Prevent Injury for the Advanced. Do you think it'll be useful?"

"Seventh year healing curriculum," Hasan muttered boredly under his breath. While it did contain quite a few interesting
techniques on how to prevent bodily harm, it was a little late now for Lucius to untie his lifeforce from that of the maniac
Dark Lord. But then again, it was technically useful..."Quite simply yes; however, I doubt that your father will benefit from
proactive strategies."

:Perhaps we should look at the scrolls?: Melusine suggested. :They look older and may have more useful ideas.:

With a nod, Hasan started towards the group of scrolls which was resting inside a beautiful black vase like flowers with
a white snake painted around it.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, feeling horribly out of the conversation and looking it.

"Melusine thinks we should look at the scrolls. They are assumedly older than the books."

"But how will that help us?" Draco questioned, even as he made his way over to the second vase filled with scrolls. His
tacit compliance warmed Hasan's heart.

"I am unsure," Hasan answered uncertainly. "Possibly the Dark Mark is based on an ancient magic, one which binds
dependents to a leader. It is similar to a spell popularly used in feudal times when it was necessary for the family to give
the feudal lord their powers to better protect them all. I doubt the Dark Lord ever had the same intentions though."

Draco couldn't help but agree.

After several minutes of sifting through the vases, pulling various scrolls up and rolling them opened and closed, Hasan
happened upon one which had the most peculiar picture on it. It was frightening in the sense that if you happened to
glance upon it you might lose control of your facilities, but then, if you truly studied it, you would find it more fascinating
than scary. Hasan was one of the latter type of people as he coolly observed the animated drawing of a woman's head,
whose mouth, when opened, revealed infinite rows of teeth. Between each jaw lay a man's head and when the woman
clamped down upon it with the full force of her maws, the poor man's neck snapped brutally. The animation ended with
the loose man heads rolling forward to the next mouth, tumbling to their next stop, as the woman continued to munch. It
was terrifying and...oddly interesting at the same time. The caption below it was thus: "The Rolling Heads of the Insane.
Mr. and Mrs. Drew."

Apparently it was just an illusion one could employ during torture. The victim would feel as if he or she were eternally
being chewed upon as various bones in his or her body were snapped and healed in an ongoing cycle. The picture,
though descriptive, had taken some creative liberties with the effects as it didn't look like anything other than a victim
screaming for mercy. The feeling was a different story altogether. As Hasan glanced down the page he was strangely
excited to find that various other drawings lined the scroll. Albeit small, each picture was detailed and deserved a
thorough looking over. It was the title, though, that really got Hasan's heart to race: The Aftereffects of Torture by Torin
Tadhg"

"Hasan?" Draco asked again, his voice holding a hint of concern in it. "Hasan?" The odd boy who now looked like a
miniaturized version of James Potter (from what he had gathered) was undoubtedly still Hasan with all his quirks and
idiosyncrasies. For instance, the boy hadn't even blinked once since he had picked up that scroll. Inching around the boy
to look over his shoulder, Draco suddenly found himself at wand point, Hasan's green eyes gleaming eerily. "Woah
there..." Draco tried to laugh it off as Hasan fought to calm down.

Hasan soon joined in his awkward chuckles, trying to cover up for his uncalled for paranoia. It was just Draco's luck that
he had happened to disturb Hasan as he had just read up on what happened to the souls sucked within the Dementor's
body. The soul didn't just get eaten, it got transformed, blended in with the other damned souls until one day the
dementor burst open like a supernova, giving birth essentially to another dementor- one with the 'dementor soul' of its
predecessor. He watched as the animated drawing blew cold breath across the bare neck of its next victim, before the
drawn man turned around and was kissed. For education's sake, the soul of the man was highlighted in blue so that
when it combined with the red within, the new soul was purple. Hasan was then understandably spooked when cool
breath blew across his own neck and had reacted accordingly. With his wand.

"Ha, sorry about that Draco," Hasan said, trying to grin it off, but the warmth in his tone never quite reached his eyes. It
rang dull in the air like a bell without resonance.

Draco shook himself before giving Hasan a tiny smile. "That's alright. I suspect you found something then if I startled you
like that. Well? What was it?"

Hasan licked his lips. He hadn't found anything yet, per se, but he could almost sense- like Fate had just gifted him this
or something- that this scroll was important. "I think it might have what we're looking for," Hasan answered carefully, but
truthfully. There was no need to get the boy's hopes up now. "I haven't read the entire thing yet so I'm of yet unsure."

Draco rolled his eyes. Hasan was such a pain in the arse sometimes! "Well, what have you found?"

"Something about dementor supernovae and being eternally eaten," Hasan answered as Draco blanched.

"Dementor...supernovae?" he repeated.

"Yes, quite," Hasan smirked, giving the scroll a once-over before letting Draco have a look. There were about thirty little
pictures on the front and probably thirty-five on the back since the giant ornate title and rolling head image took up a great
deal of space.

Hasan watched as Draco eyed the top image with something akin to disgust, before giving the rest of the images a
glance as well.

"This one is missing a picture," Draco said after he has studied the scroll front to back.

"Missing?" Hasan queried, curious. Granted he had given the thing a cursory inspection but every paragraph seemed to
have a corresponding illustration. Had he missed something or was Draco?

"This one here," Draco repeated, pointing to the scroll. "The paragraph is about curing cruciatus induced insanity. At least
we're on the right track, but it would have been useful to have an image to go along with it, but there's nothing there! It just
says 'b lood added of the animal depicted will produce divine results, b ecause b lood cannot b e ob tained b y halves'.
That's bloody useful!" Draco growled, eyebrows twitching as he stared at the scroll in frustration. Hasan chuckled
inwardly at the pun.

Melusine glanced at Hasan with a knowing glint in her eyes before flicking her tail like a cat on a windowsill. Why couldn't
Draco see the picture? Why could he? Should he tell Draco? Or should he...just keep it to himself?
"The image would be useful," Hasan agreed in as apathetic a tone as he could manage, but it was all a ploy to cover up
his fear and anxiousness. Hopefully Draco wouldn't be too offended.

"Yeah," Draco sighed, handing the scroll back. "I think we should return before anyone asks about us, yeah?"

Hasan nodded numbly.

"And I'll take the scroll with," the blond added. "I think it'll be useful."

Hasan let Draco take the lead as Melusine slithered along with them to the exit, intending to see them out as she wanted
to remain in the chamber. :Use your brain, little one,: Melusine oh-so-helpfully offered as the boys returned to the proper
level. :I can see the picture too.:

.oOo.

The Quibbler

What Albus Dumbledore Knows:

An Exclusive Interview with the Mastermind Behind Harry Potter's Reappearance

by Rita Skeeter

Roughly three years ago, Mr. Harry James Potter, no more than a b oy of eleven, received his first Hogwarts letter. How
then did the Hogwarts staff react when not Harry Potter appeared at the Welcoming Feast, b ut a never b efore heard of
Hasan Castell arrived in his stead? I sit down to a one-on-one interview with the man b ehind the curtain, Headmaster
Alb us Dumb ledore.

RS: Many of my loyal readers are wondering why you had fab ricated such a ridiculous lie in the first place. Please Alb us,
let's get real here. Why training in the mountains? Why not let us know he's missing?

*With a single tear trailing down his long silver beard, he answers me wistfully.*

AD: Like everyone else I was extremely concerned and so did not want to panic the entire country.

RS: But you knew we would b e panicked, didn't you? You knew that you had to put someone in his place. Cue Mr.
Longb ottom.

*Albus (excuse my familiarity) sighs, his famous twinkle dimming in those icy depths.*

AD: Mr. Longb ottom fulfilled the requirements of the prophecy-

RS: "Born at the end of the seventh month," yes, yes, we know. But how did it feel to know that Harry Potter had b een at
the school the entire time?

AD: I-

RS: I don't mean to b e rude, b ut I wasn't finished.

AD: Of course.

*He smiles indulgently at my antics, having known me since my days as a mere, but stunningly beautiful girl of eleven.*

RS: Ahem...To know that you have effectively failed as a headmaster in ensuring that all students are equally looked
after?

AD: I can only offer my sincerest apologies for the oversight-

RS: But enough ab out you, Alb us. The people want to know ab out Mr. Harry Potter! We hear you have squirreled him
away yet again. The Weasleys seemed particularly concerned ab out dear Harry, b ut they have declined to comment,
perhaps-?

"Albus smiles ruefully as he desperately tries to convey the answer to my darling readers, but alas, he finds himself
constrained by the secrecy laws of our society.*

AD: I cannot comment on that.

 RS: Of course, of course. You understand I had to try though, naturally.

AD: Naturally.

RS: What most of our readers are no doub t wondering, where has the Boy-Who-Lived lived all this time? There have
b een rumors flying from France to the States. Alb us, any thoughts?

AD: For his own safety, I cannot divulge any more than anyone else knows, which is that he was safe.

RS: I see...And the reason that his last name, Castell, was shared b y an earlier deceased memb er of the Black Family
would indicate-?

AD: That he had the time to quickly glance at any numb er of genealogy charts and pick a name. Purely out of
coincidence I assure you, Rita.

RS: Oooh! But the tale does get juicier from here. Are you aware that the last British b ranch of Castells died with Altair
Dean Castell, a man whose initials line up perfectly with the co-author of an ob scure b lood study, archived b y the Ministry
over five years ago?

*Albus leans in curiously, no doubt setting the example for more of my most avid readers.*

AD: A study?

*The great wizard smiles warmly at me as he sips his tea, allowing me to string out my tale as long as I please. Clearly
he has already heard of the study and is humoring me. The dear.*

RS: Yes, the study on innate magical ab ility across different levels of b lood purity. He had just finished the study b efore
he died, killed supposedly b y You-Know-Who in the first wizarding war. If he was indeed a Light sympathizer, perhaps his
name is symb olic of Mr. Potter's stance as well. A clever way to align himself with the Light.

AD: If I may b e so b old as to inquire the other co-author and the name of the study?

*I smile enchantingly as the headmaster offers me his tray of lemondrops. He is so quaint and adorable I just want to
laugh!*

RS: The co-author is only identifiab le b y the initials L.A.M., most likely Louis Adam Masson, the acclaimed b otanist who
also unfortunately died during the first wizarding war. The name of the study was also denoted b y the initials B.B.B. The
man, Castell, certainly wanted to cover his tracks! The Ministry only has this much information availab le! I know, I tried.

*Albus' blue eyes twinkle sweetly as we wrap up the interview with heartfelt anecdotes of my lovely days as a student.
Perhaps in time I will meet the great Harry Potter himself! That is, if he won't go hiking in the mountains again! Well, ta-ta
for now my darling readers!*

-Rita Skeeter

.oOo.

It had been hard to convince Rita to write for a magazine as low as The Quibbler. But then upon reflection, it hadn't been
very hard at all, thought Lucius. All he had to do was pull out all of the Malfoy's investments in The Daily Prophet, causing
it to crash and burn (that article was featured in The Quibbler as well) threaten to reveal her Animagus status, and
promise an interview with one Albus Dumbledore.

It was also a good thing that Luna had somehow anticipated his moves (that was Hasan's girlfriend? This quaint and
somehow fairy-like girl who somehow predicted his moves? Him? A seasoned Death Eater? Predictable by the
standards of a third year girl?) In any case, Xenophilius Lovegood was more than happy to write up a contract for Rita on
the spot, albeit a unique one, stipulating that Heliopaths were not to be harmed under any circumstances and Nargles
were not to be bothered after 5pm. The pay was pretty decent though. And at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

.oOo.

12 Grimmauld Place

Severus Snape stood silently in the shadows, the mysterious effect somewhat disrupted by Lucius Malfoy's glowing
radiance on his right. Lucius had his hands deep in his pockets- not the wisest of moves since it had the other
members on edge- but the Dark Lord was still torturing him through the mark and he needed to keep in contact with his
knife so there wasn't much to be said on that front.

Snape's obsidian eyes surveyed the room, noting that fake-Moody had not been invited. (Thank Merlin for small favors!)
Molly and Arthur Weasley were seated beside Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, engaged in trifling conversation if their silly
smiles were anything to go by. Tonks was talking with Kingsley in hushed tones, and if Severus strained very hard to hear
what they were talking about, he could just make out the words "Moody" and "missing." It didn't take more than two brain
cells to rub together to guess what they were ultimately discussing. The young auror-in-training looked positively
distraught and her hair color matched this, changing from her usual bubblegum pink to a sad, angsty black.

Albus had said to meet at nine, but it was now nine-thirty and Severus would be damned if he had to rebrew Poppy's
batch of healing potions from scratch. Speaking of Poppy, Albus had mentioned that he would be bringing the Hogwarts
professors down all at once. Obviously not Black or Lupin since they lived at headquarters, but surely Poppy, Minerva,
and Flitwick would be in attendance. Not all of the professors knew about the Order, but certainly those three did as they
occasionally helped with certain tasks...Now where in nine hells was Albus? He glanced hopefully towards the fireplace,
but the cinders did little more than wink at him...

At precisely 9:45, the front door of the apartment was opened with a crash. Instantly, the members set down their tea
mugs and drew their wands, transforming from tea-club to formidable secret organization in a matter of seconds.
Kingsley was just about to poke his head out into the hallway when a most familiar voice boomed out-

"This sure is a nice place, Professor!"

A second later, none other than Rubeus Hagrid stood in (and filled up) the entire doorframe with Albus smiling at his
side, for only his face could be seen in the cracks. Behind them, Minerva could be heard admonishing Hagrid for not
moving and letting them inside the kitchen. There was an answering squeak, from who was undoubtedly Flitwick, that
Hagrid could take his time. They were in no rush, after all.

Severus grit his teeth. It wasn't like the half-goblin had to meticulously rechop forty newt eyes if the meeting went
overtime...

"Hagrid!" Molly cried in delight as the half-giant shuffled into the room. Hagrid leant his pink umbrella in the corner before
plopping down in the seat next to her. "Where have you been?"

Hagrid smiled and for the first time Severus had a clear view of his face. His eye had an ugly purpling bruise and his jaw
was a sickly yellow color with blue around the edges. Wherever he had gone to, it certainly wasn't paradise. Severus
found himself intrigued. Albus had gotten Remus and Sirius to fill in the Care of Magical Creatures post for the entire
year. Did that mean that Hagrid was back early? It was just after the winter holidays after all.

"All will be explained in due time, Molly," Albus said, eyes twinkling. "If everyone could please take a seat and we can get
this meeting started."

Severus rolled his eyes- finally. He reluctantly took a chair between Lucius and Flitwick, where the latter smiled cheerily
at him in greeting. Severus' scowl deepened. Once Tonks had settled in her seat, the headmaster began to speak.

"As you may have heard, The Daily Prophet went mysteriously out of business two days ago-"

"What? The Daily Prophet?" Hagrid asked, eyes bugging out of his head.

"Indeed, but it wasn't very mysterious at all. We have our very own Lucius Malfoy to thank for withdrawing financial aid to
the newspaper. Let us give a big round of applause for our subsequent lack of howlers."

The applause wasn't thunderous by any means, but it wasn't exactly light. Hopefully that was a good indicator of how
people felt towards him now...

"Another recent event is the return of our groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid! Hagrid will be telling his tale shortly. It is quite a
tale, one which I'm sure you will all be delighted to hear." Albus smiled warmly. "However, before we start with the actual
business, I am not so remiss as to think you all don't have questions for me concerning the returned Harry Potter. So fire
away!"

It was clear that everyone wanted to speak, but no one wanted to speak first. Finally Molly tentatively raised her hand.

"Is it true that he wasn't under a glamor?" Molly asked.

" Yes," Albus replied, "Otherwise we would have detected it and removed it."
"But how is that even possible?"

"How is magic even possible?" Albus countered. "I believe what occurred was similar to accidental magic. He desired to
have a different identity and his magic made it happen."

"How could you not have known he was at the school the whole time?" Tonks questioned.

"None of us did," Minerva answered sadly. "This time we actually paid attention to Hasan Castell, but it was not enough!"

"Calm yourself, Minerva," Poppy shushed gently, "The boy did not want to be found and we believe that his magic
somehow knew that and...pushed us away."

"Who was he staying with all this time?" Arthur asked. "Was he with someone safe?"

Lucius' face was monolithic stone, while Snape only sneered.

"How safe could he be when his aunt and uncle, his supposedly safest option, threw him out?"

"Now Severus," Minerva said warningly, her eyes flashing, "the headmaster made the best choice he knew how to at the
time." Her features softened as she looked upon Albus. Snape's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"You've sure changed your tune, Minerva," Severus remarked delicately.

She turned her fierce gaze at him. "The situation is complicated," she told him, drawing herself up regally. "We all regret
what has happened, but there is nothing we can do to correct the past. I would, Merlin knows I would if all the time
turners hadn't been SMASHED!"

Severus stole a glance towards the doleful headmaster before looking determinedly away. So Minerva knew there were
some complications which affected the headmaster's choices. But how much did she know? Did she know of Altair? Or
was Albus still woefully in the dark?

Hagrid was close to tears at this point. The headmaster had informed him briefly of the events that had taken place in the
past year, but hearing people fight over it made the situation all too real. He let out a great sobbing wail which shook
Severus from his contemplations.

"What will happen to Neville now?" Poppy wanted to know.

"Nothing," Albus answered truthfully. "He knew he was doing me a favor from the beginning in participating in the farce,
but I honestly don't think he has a place in this war as a figurehead or otherwise. I would not be surprised if he hated me.
However, you will notice Augusta Longbottom is not here today. Frank and Alice have taken another grave turn for the
worse and I worry if they will survive the year. Augusta is with them now."

The table grew silent as they recalled their old friends, or silent and watchful for they had never met the Longbottom
couple. Lucius stared fixedly at the table.

"Understandably, Neville might very well be too occupied with his personal affairs to continue the fight," Albus finished.
Then with a rejuvenating breath, the headmaster straightened. "But that does not mean we won't. This is our fight. For
our children and our future generations!"

There were raised hopeful eyes as they realized the headmaster would now be getting into something monumental.

"The fight against Lord Voldemort" (flinches) "and the Dark is fought every single time a murder is committed or a battle
won. Each blow against them is a step closer to victory, but some battles are larger than others. Lucius, Severus, would
you please share Lord Voldemort's latest scheme?"

Everyone's heads swiveled towards the two ex-Death Eaters who sat rigidly under the limelight. With a weary sigh,
Severus began.

"The Dark Lord plans on retrieving the prophecy July 7th. I have told him that Dumbledore plans on using Hasan to get
the prophecy and is anticipating a grand battle in the Department of Mysteries." Lucius swallowed. Whoever Altair's
source was (most likely Severus) he or she was right. "We need to be ready for him."

It took Lucius a moment to realize that people expected him to speak as well.

"I have nothing more to add."

Albus' eyes lingered on the blond before moving on to Hagrid. "The battle in the Department of Mysteries will, I fear, only
be one battle out of many. I have no doubt that soon Lord Voldemort will advance on Hogwarts, but not until the end. It is
far too large and well protected to attack before his forces are at its peak. Thus, we too have been gathering our forces.
With the help of Hagrid and Remus, we were able to secure alliances with the werewolves and the giants!"

More applause, followed by Hagrid clearing his throat humbly. "It was difficult to get their favor. Not to find them of course.
We had to wait until the leader died to come to an agreement, but now I am glad I went through all the trouble. Because I
found I have...I have a brother! His name's Grawp and- I just- I love him so much!"

Molly's eyes began to water as she gazed on the half-giant. He was so brave for going into the mountains for them.
Kingsley studied the bruises on his face and was awed at his daring. Not many people could survive the wild giants of
the mountains. It was amazing Hagrid would even dare. As a half-giant, his size was more human than giant. They could
have easily eaten him...

"That is so great!" Flitwick smiled, sharing in some half-creature comradery. Minerva pursed her lips.

"The werewolves are divided," Lupin explained calmly. "Fenrir Greyback" (Sirius growled at the name) "has already
claimed the darker werewolf packs for You-Know-Who, but I have managed to sway at least three packs to our cause."

Albus beamed down at them all. "That is excellent news, Remus, Hagrid. But for now, let us focus on the task ahead.
Before we know it, we will be in the Department of Mysteries fighting for our lives..."

.oOo.

The very next week, fake-Moody had mysteriously fled in the night after Severus had reported the latest Order of the
Phoenix meeting to the Dark Lord. Casually, he had let slip that "Auror Moody" had not been invited.

This wouldn't have been much of a shock had the Malfoys not defected days earlier. But with Lucius and Narcissa privy to
even the most classified information, Voldemort had little doubt in his mind that Barty Crouch Jr. had been found out. So,
Barty Crouch Jr., in his infinite wisdom and foresight (fright and stupidity), fled without his trunk.

The real Auror Moody was discovered within mere hours after the fraud had gone missing and was now currently
recovering at St. Mungo's.

Professor Lucius Malfoy had been spotted on more than one occasion sitting beside the dour Potions Master at the
Head Table. Rumor had it he has Snape's coveted job, but anyone who knew anything knew that Snape wouldn't trade
his greasy locks for the world, even Defense Against the Dark Arts.

.oOo.**Seven Months Later**.oOo.

Neville took a long shuddering breath, willing his hands to still. Gran was to take him to St. Mungo's that night. His
parents...

Crystal clear tears began to flow down his face, blurring his vision to where he was going. They skydived off his nose. He
miserably wiped his snot on his thrice used tissue and stuffed it back in his pocket.

So what if he had never known his parents? So what if they had been tortured to insanity before he was able to
remember them? They were his parents and he...he was going to miss them.

"Hey, Neville?" Daphne's clear soft voice floated to him as if in a dream. Her soft arms came to wrap around him in a
friendly hug. That's right, he had invited Daphne over at his Gran's suggestion that he needed 'comfort'. He hadn't
realized she had arrived already.

Neville looked up through his tears at Daphne's worried face. He was so tired...

"It's going to happen today," Neville sobbed incoherently.

"What is?" Daphne asked, sitting down by the nearest tree on the lawn and cuddling Neville to her side.

"Gran's going to take me to see my parents one last time before..."

"Oh, Neville..."

"They're going to take them off Magical Life Support. It's nearing the end, they don't want the magic to fight the natural
course of things. The magic will keep them sustained for another three days at most but...Gran says it's best to see them
now before the magic starts to leave their systems," Neville finished in a whisper.

"I'm sorry," Daphne said softly. "I'm sorry..." She interlocked their fingers when she felt the silver ring on his hand. "Hey,
what's this?"

.oOo.

"What are you mumbling?" Hasan asked as Luna smiled broadly at him and took another bow. They were at Luna's
house for the day and Luna was determined to make the most of it.

"I'm not mumbling, silly! I'm singing!" Luna conjured a bouquet of flowers ("orchideous") and stuck them in her hair so
she looked a right sight when she was finished.

Hasan grinned indulgently at her. Ever since the winter holidays, he had been more relaxed around her and others.
Draco had something to do with it, he supposed. They had reached an understanding during the Winter Hols and Draco
had once more wormed himself inside Hasan's friend category. For good. Somehow this translated into being a "funner
person" according to Luna. Hasan found he could not disagree.

"Fine, sing it again!" Hasan challenged. "Encore! Encore!"

This time Luna did not mince her words as she walked up and down the stone path where the Nargles liked to mate.

"The one who knows the ways of half its kind reaches a crossroads! Going left the half-kind discovers half-minds!
Returning right, half-love can restore what pain has taken!"

Hasan gaped at her, finally having heard the lyrics to her strange song.

"Luna, that's...that doesn't sound like a song," Hasan began.

"Then tell me what it is then, Mr. Castell," Luna demanded, flowers sticking ridiculously up on her head.

"It sounds like...it sounds like a prophecy," Hasan said in awe. Something niggled at the back of his mind but he was
unable to pinpoint it. He remembered the nightmare in the Death Chamber with startling clarity...he shivered involuntarily
as he could once again imagine the cold commanding voice to walk through the veil...

Suddenly a short, barely hot shock came from his hand. Luna was startled as well, as if she shared in his experience,
when looking down, he saw the Protean charmed ring with the words: "Neville's parents are nearly dead. Neville needs
support. -Daphne."

Luna's silver eyes looked at his for a moment before clouding over in mist.

"Wouldn't it be great if the prophecy referred to Neville's parents?" Luna asked, causing Hasan to sputter.

"Prophecy? W-what prophecy?"

"You called my song a prophecy," Luna reminded him as the mist began to fade. "Well, what are you waiting for? Call
Draco."

"Wait, what?"

"D-R-A-C-O." Luna spelled it out for him. "Remember? We promised to bring him with us to the Department of Mysteries!
You don't actually think a prophecy is just three lines, do you? We have to hear it all and quickly! Neville's parents are
dying!"

"Alright, alright!" Hasan cried, "I'll floo call him as soon as we get in the house."

"No! Go right now!" And the silver girl fairly flew back to her house, Hasan hot on her heels.

Many things had happened in the seven months between being adopted as a Malfoy and ...now.

In seven months, Hasan had come to synchronize his Hasan persona with his Harry one. (Or so he imagined.)

In seven months, Hasan had come to terms with his feelings for Luna.

In seven months, Hasan had managed to forget the date Altair had once given Lucius...
Today was July 7th.

A/N: Department of Mysteries time! The allies are united! Neville's parents are dying! Minerva is defending Albus!

Thank you to all of those who reviewed!

winka (why thank you!), Shalifi, medward, hlewin, NatureLoverGirl, Serpent91, EndlessChains, Umbrador,
Nagilover4ever, pinks99, history, and DarkRavie! You guys are amazing!

PLEASE REVIEW!

What will happen in the Department of Mysteries?

a) Someone dies!

b) Dumbledore dies! (Spell or Veil)

c) Voldemort dies through the Veil

d) Everyone lives!
*Chapter 43*: The Second Coming
A/N-Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! You guys are wonderful! Also, I got a bit mixed up with the earlier chapters,
THIS is the chapter that is my brilliant star! I have envisioned this moment from the very beginning, you will know when
you get there. I hope you keep a very deductive and suspicious mind as you read. Theories are encouraged!

I fell in love with WB Yeats while reading Tread Softly by Dius Corvus, so from here on out there may be a few quotes
from him!

Please ENJOY!

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity."

-The Second Coming by W.B. Yeats

Return of Emerald

Chapter 42: The Second Coming

Luna had it easy: "Papa, can I go to the Department of Mysteries tonight?"

"The Department of Mysteries is very dangerous. You can't just walk in there while You-Know-Who is on the
loose!...Unless you have a buddy! Is that nice boy Hasan going with you?"

"Yeah."

"Then just be back in time for breakfast, okay?"

"'Kay!"

Meanwhile:

Hasan and Draco were uncommonly quiet this evening, Lucius thought to himself as Tipsy whisked away the plates.
Well, perhaps he should be grateful for small blessings. Dumbledore wanted the core members of the Order of the
Phoenix to be ready to fight in the Ministry atrium in approximately one hour. (The time was based more on getting
everyone's children to bed more than anything else.) Luckily, it seemed that Hasan and Draco were nodding off even as
they sat at dinner.

"Long day?" Narcissa asked sweetly to her sons. "Hasan, how was Luna's?"

"It was amazing!" Hasan smiled, his entire face lighting up in a way that would have seemed uncharacteristic seven
months ago. But he had been acting this way for a while now, so no one thought anything of it. Except for Severus. He
was always paranoid. "Luna has a really great singing voice, did you know?"

"I didn't, dear," Narcissa smiled, swiveling her graceful swan's neck to look warmly on Draco. "And how about you,
Draco? I heard Daphne dropped by while you were playing quidditch with Tracey and Theo."

"Yeah," Draco said tiredly, eyes ahead and blank. "Daphne had just gotten back from Neville's..."
Narcissa frowned delicately, knowing that Neville's parents were getting worse and worse. She remembered when Bella
had been given the mission to interrogate the Longbottoms in the first place. At the time, she had thought that Bella
surely wouldn't torture a pure-blood family to insanity, but as she learned later, there was very little Bella wouldn't do for
the Dark Lord. Narcissa shivered as she reluctantly recalled the time Bellatrix had gone into far too much detail about
what exactly she did for him.

Lucius still felt guilty of course about the entire Longbottom incident. Every time Draco went to visit Neville now he made
sure to gift Augusta with a fine bottle of wine. It was hard to tell if it was working because Augusta was in such low spirits
nowadays. Now, what with...what with Frank and Alice...Lucius refused to dwell on it.

"Oh, Dragon!" Narcissa whispered, "Did Daphne say anything?"

Draco astutely looked at the tapestry of a bubbling cauldron (courtesy of Severus Snape) as he replied, "They're cutting
off the magic supply. The doctors say his parents won't last more than three days."

Everyone, in their grief, failed to notice Hasan who was also resolutely looking at the tapestry behind Lucius' blond
mane. He was occluding, just like he had instructed Draco to do for this dinner, for everything rested on them being able
to get out of the house and into the Department of Mysteries. It was a matter of life and death! If Luna said that this
prophecy thing that had been haunting Hasan since the school year was the key to saving Neville's parents, then Hasan
would go. And he'd make damn sure no one would stop him.

Sensing that the boys were withdrawn, for good reason, Narcissa dismissed them from the table, before turning to face
her husband whose face was also shuttered.

"Thinking about tonight?" Narcissa questioned him, placing her hand over her husband's.

"I've been thinking about tonight for a long time," Lucius replied tiredly. "I'm no longer in agonizing pain thanks to Severus'
new concoction, but I can still feel Him there. Like a worm wriggling beneath my skin. I'm tainted, Narcissa, and I'm
worried that when I see Him for the first time since we defected, the pain will come back full force. Is it wrong of me to
fear Him? Am I weak?"

"You know Albus won't force you to go if you feel like you can't do it," Narcissa said, licking her lips. "But no. I don't think
that makes you weak. It makes you human."

Lucius sighed, "I know I can do it. Malfoys aren't cowards...Are you sure you're going to be alright? Fighting against your
sister?"

"Bella?" Narcissa scoffed, though her voice sounded hollow. "Please. The more I learn what she has put poor Neville
through, the more able I feel that I can rip her throat out. Malfoys aren't cowards," she repeated.

Lucius nodded, taking a deep steadying breath. "Let us prepare ourselves," he said, pushing away from the table.

"Agreed."

.oOo.

Hasan let Draco lead the way to their joint room. They didn't sleep in the same room very often, but it was a choice that
was becoming more and more popular as they relaxed around each other. Being in Slytherin, they hadn't had much of a
'real dorm experience'. Not that Draco would ever admit that the Gryffindors were ever better than the Slytherins, but even
he came to admit that dorming together was fun. It was also extremely useful. Like when they needed to use the floo
system to enter into the Ministry's atrium, for instance.

Draco had informed him that there was usually one guard overseeing the floor at night, but that he was easily overcome
with simple spells. It helped that Hasan had the presence of mind to bring the invisibility cloak along. It was only large
enough for one person, but it was certainly not an advantage to be wasted.

Transfiguring their clothes into pajamas, both boys hurriedly hopped into bed after doing their nightly routine of human
hygiene. Hasan shut off the light with a wave of his wand, heart pounding. He could hear the slight creak of steps as
Narcissa made her way up to check on them. He wasn't surprised then, when Narcissa's soft voice filtered in as a thin
strip of light streaked across the floor.

"You boys asleep already?" Narcissa asked bemused, closing off the door a bit to give the boys more darkness to sleep.

"Mmhhmm," they mumbled incoherently, putting a grin on Narcissa's face.

"Alright then. Pleasant dreams, Hasan, Dragon..."

The thin strip of light disappeared. Their mother's footsteps faded down the hall. They waited five minutes.

"Now?" Draco whispered, already reaching for his wand.

"Yes," Hasan replied determinedly. His voice was steady and commanding, not cautious or even suspicious. He was a
far cry from the Hasan on Red Mill's Hill, but Draco didn't mind too much. They needed leadership if they were to pull off
this little adventure.

Hasan and Draco each pulled out their little sacks of floo powder they had nicked at various times throughout the day.
Narcissa liked to use the floo when she hadn't apparated to a specific location before (which was often because
sometimes to buy the best antiques she had only an address to go on). This eased some of the suspicion when the floo
powder jar began losing some of its powder, but both Malfoys had keen eyes. It had taken many tiny 'reapings' to finally
have enough to throw four handfuls (two for the way back) of powder into the fireplace.

Hasan grabbed his own wand as they scurried to the fireplace, still lit to guard against the natural chill of the ancient
manor. Tipsy would put it out later, they knew, before relighting it for the next day.

Draco's face was excited and flushed as he hovered over the flames like a moth, the light dancing over his aristocratic
features.

"Do you have everything?" Hasan asked him, referring to the flasks of healing potions Severus kept in their house's first-
aid kit. Draco shook his cloak pocket, letting the little glasses jingle in answer. Hasan cast a quick cushioning charm on
the potions so they wouldn't accidently break each other. Anything stronger, like an unbreakable charm would possibly
interfere with the potency. (For common potions, it was okay to have spelled flasks and containers, but for more valuable
and rarer potions, the less magical interference the better.) Draco acknowledged what he had done with a short nod.

"Alright then!" Invisibility cloak tucked against his frame, Hasan threw a fistful of the silvery powder into the fire. "Ministry of
Magic, Atrium!"

The flames flashed green and swallowed him whole, leaving an excited Draco in his wake. When the flames returned to
normal, Draco stepped up, throwing his own fistful of powder.

"Ministry of Magic, Atrium!"

Somewhere, they knew, Luna Lovegood was doing the same as her father offered her biscuits for the 'road'. Luna would
politely decline, stating that she had had enough for dinner, and throw her own handful of glittering grey powder into her
living room fireplace before jumping in and repeating the same location.

"Ministry of Magic, Atrium!"

And all three would reappear, soot in their hair and clothes, grinning at each other in a silent atrium. Had Hasan and
Draco been more alert, they would have noticed that there was no guard to subdue. And, had Hasan and Draco waited
any later, they would have heard a curious ringing mirror begin to trill in Lucius' chambers...

.oOo.

Lucius sat heavily on his bed, though he wasn't heavy at all, hands interlocked on his forehead. Was he ready for this?
Was he ready to confront that bastard who had treated him like a slave and dragged the Malfoy name through the mud
and dirt and grime? He rubbed at the Dark Mark hidden beneath his sleeve, feeling angry tears well up in his eyes at the
thought of ever willingly letting the man brand him into servitude. Today was a day for redemption, Lucius thought, noting
very deliberately how he didn't have to search for his Death Eaters robe and mask to fight for the cause he believed in.
There was no reason to hide who he was if he truly picked the best side. Why hadn't he thought this clearly before when
he had received the Dark Mark?

Why had he taken the Dark Mark at all?

Lucius wiped the tears from his eyes, not that there were many to begin with, as he realized once again that everything
looped back to Altair fucking Castell. The man with the answers. The damn puppet master. Of course, the day and the
reason and the everything-else about the Dark Mark was taken from him. Damn damn Altair, Lucius smiled bitterly. He
wouldn't be surprised if Altair had planned for him to take the Dark Mark in the first place, probably for his own nefarious
purposes. But Lucius couldn't truly convince himself to believe that. If nothing else, the dagger had convinced him of the
man's intentions. And coming to get to know Hasan like a second son was definitely very persuasive that Altair meant no
harm. It still didn't mean the man had any right to take his memories. It still didn't mean Altair had any right to blackmail
him with said memories. Truly, Lucius couldn't cast judgement until he knew all the facts. And guess who had all the
facts? Al-

The mirror on his desk rattled, b rrring! b ring!ing in the air. Speak of the devil...Lucius swallowed audibly and composed
his features back into a mask of steel. He was too raw and vulnerable to let his guard down right now.

Raising the mirror, Lucius looked down into the faintly smiling face of Altair Castell.

"Hello Lucius. Lovely evening, isn't it?" Altair's blue eyes seemed to dance with life.

"Altair," Lucius inclined his neck stiffly. "I can't stay long I have-"

"It's July 7th," Altair nodded in understanding, "The Department of Mysteries."

"Yes." Lucius licked his lips, unsure of how he felt as Altair copied the movement.

"...I just wanted to let you know that I am grateful for all the help you've given me..."

Lucius blinked.

"I know it seems far away when we first met but..." Altair blew out a long breath, "I hope you still don't hold it against me
that I-"

"-blackmailed me with my own memories?" Lucius hissed, perfectly still.

Altair shifted. "How is Hasan?" he asked.

"We were talking of my memories!" Lucius said, feeling all at once the layers upon layers of frustration and hurt.

"So was I. I asked, How was Hasan?" Altair repeated sternly.

"I don't understand!" Lucius snarled, growing more out of control by the minute.

"The memories, Lucius!" Altair said. "They have been closer to you than you have ever known." As Lucius continued to
stare blankly at him, Altair sighed and continued. "Severus knows where the memories are stored. He has already been
informed somewhat of what he must do to complete the...ritual, for lack of a better word."

"Severus knows?" Lucius asked, startled. "He knows how to reverse this? When did he-?"

"-Lucius, I haven't much time!" Altair interrupted, voice rising shrilly, "I have put measures in place to ensure that you
receive equal and fair compensation for your help- namely your memories- and that bits and pieces don't end up in the
wrong hands. The headmaster has one part of the puzzle, given to him by the Sorting Hat. Severus has a box, in case
things don't go as planned."

"Oh, that's rich! You've put 'measures in place', have you?" Lucius hissed, "You must feel so clever! Placing clues around
like a child's Easter egg hunt! Why can't you come and do it yourself? Sometimes I swear I'm talking to the boogeyman!"

The smile that was once on Altair's face resituated itself, his sudden change of character unnerving Lucius who already
wasn't in the best frame of mind. "If you would like me to come visit you, all you had to do was ask. I will gladly come over
later this summer," Altair smiled sweetly. "How's your 39th birthday sound?"

Lucius grit his teeth. "-I-"

"Lucius, are you ready yet? The kids are finally asleep!" Narcissa whispered through the door.

Lucius was about to turn the mirror face down and tell Altair where he could shove it, when something in the other's face
caught his attention. It was something between great anticipation, fluttering hope, and grave, horribly grave sadness.

"I only ask that you protect my son. Is that too much to ask of you, Lucius? Perhaps I have already pushed too far..."

The screen went back to normal. Lucius' terribly saddened face staring back at him from the surface of the mirror. He
flung the device across the room, towards the hamper in the corner, shaking visibly.

"I'm coming Narcissa," Lucius said, straightening up and opening the door. But he fancied that he heard a very heartfelt "I
love you," echoing from some distant memory in his brain.
.oOo.

Severus stood off to the side as the rest of the Order members filtered into the dimly lit atrium. Everyone it seemed was
dressed in black battle robes, wands hidden on arm holsters and out of sight. Severus himself was armed with twenty
shrunken potions, ranging from healing potions to Pepper-Up to the Draught of Living Death. Today he was officially
defecting from the bastard he called Master. He just hoped he wasn't going to regret his decision when his double dose
of painkiller wore off...

A scowl perched permanently on his face, he watched as Dumbledore greeted Kingsley, Tonks, Minerva, and Flitwick with
a distinct twinkle in his eyes. The headmaster's robes were a deep sapphire blue as opposed to his usual flamboyant
colors (like flamingo pink) and they swished about him like a shadow. Severus hated to admit it, but the robes had a dual
purpose for looking good and allowing the headmaster ease of movement. He also wouldn't have been surprised to
learn that there were protective spells woven in the cloth.

At eleven o'clock on the dot, Lucius and Narcissa materialized in one of the atrium's many fireplaces. Severus' lips
quirked up in a smirk. Figures Lucius would have special permission from the Ministry. Showoff...

Severus smoothly detached himself from the shadows to meet the Malfoys in the middle of the room. He knew they
weren't waiting for anybody else.

"Everybody here? Everybody here?" Albus questioned as he stood to his full height.

Tonks' head swiveled around as she scanned the crowd. "I don't see Remus or Sirius," she said hesitantly.

"Nor the Weasleys," Kingsley added with a frown.

Minerva, who Severus knew understood what was going on, turned her face away and blew her nose in a lacy
handkerchief.

"Albus..." Severus growled testily. It wasn't right for him to drag the news out like this.

The headmaster took a deep breath before answering. "They are currently in St. Mungo's giving support to Augusta and
Neville...St. Mungo's is finally taking Frank and Alice off of Magical Life Support."

Tonks gasped loudly and everyone seemed to suck in a single uniform breath.

"They are not with us today, but they are serving the Order and hopefully, we may do the same... thirteen years ago, the
Longbottoms were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters. The Longbottoms fought valiantly but nothing could prepare them
for a four on two battle. The only way to prevent others from suffering in the same way is to stop him. Let us not let Frank
and Alice die in vain! The answer to ending all of this is through those doors."

"The prophecy," Flitwick confirmed in his squeaky voice, eyes wide in awe.

"Yes, the prophecy..." the headmaster gained a faraway mist in his eyes. They appeared glazed over as if he were lost in
thought. Perhaps he was. The answer to everything that happened in the last thirteen years lay beyond those doors. "The
night is still young. From everything we have learned, we should be wise to prepare for a violent battle tonight. What time
are Tom's troops expected to arrive?" he asked looking over at Severus.

"I wouldn't give him more than the next fifteen minutes, Albus," Severus replied darkly.

"And the Aurors are on standby?" Albus asked with a nod towards Kingsley.

The man nodded, battle face on.

"Good!" Albus clapped his hands, startling many in their merry band of fighters. "Then we shall meet them head on. But
first! Let's get this goddamned prophecy!"

Minerva stifled a gasp.

.oOo.

Mere seconds before.

Luna tumbled out of the fire seconds after the boys appeared in the Atrium. Her fire didn't have special access to the
Department of Mysteries floor, but for whatever reason the fire seemed to work alright. Perhaps security was down or
being redone? No matter, Luna had been able to floo and that's what counted!
Hasan smiled brightly as Luna approached them, blonde hair slightly in disarray.

"We need to move fast," Luna remarked with no apparent haste. "Did you know that they keep Crumple-Horned
Snorkacks down here to study them?"

"I don't think-" Draco began.

"Which way?" Hasan interrupted even as he began walking towards the door.

"We need to walk straight through," Luna said wistfully. "Did you know that Halo will give birth to little Sotiris tonight?
Shadow was so happy he almost cried!"

Luna took the lead, moving almost instinctually as she pulled open the door and entered into a small circular room that
had black doors, walls, and floors. The only light came from bright blue candles which made the marble floor seem like
the ocean depths.

"Which door was that again?" Draco asked uneasily, eyeing the doors with a growing sense of panic.

"This one," Hasan pointed to the black, handle-less door directly across from them when the entire room began to
rumble. Caught in the earthquake, all were helpless as the room began to spin faster and faster, their chances of picking
the right door now 1 out of 12.

"Well, that's just great," Draco muttered. "Hey! – What are you? But the doors just changed!"

Luna ignored him as she reached for the door in generally the same position as the one before it. As Luna pushed it
open, Hasan was immediately assaulted by a blinding white light coming from a crystal bell jar across the room. It was
dazzling, shedding light on the glass faces of grandfather clocks, alarm clocks, even tiny muggle watches, and a large
family clock rather similar to one he had once seen at the Weasley's home with tick marks which read "Asleep" and "At
work."

"This is where the time-turners were stored," Draco whispered, exiting the swirling blue-black room with caution. "Father
told me they were trying to make more ever since they all got destroyed..."

"Time cannot be destroyed," Luna whispered seemingly to herself as she pressed her nose up against the bell jar.
Inside, a hummingbird with ragged gray feathers descended to the bottom of the jar...only to turn into a beautiful egg
which cracked and birthed a tiny chick...

Although Draco's father had made multiple trips inside the Department of Mysteries before the Dark Lord returned, Draco
himself was at a loss as to how to explain what he was seeing. These weren't just mysteries, these were the haunting
questions of life and existence. Time trapped inside a bell jar? What if he were the mockingbird and when he died would
he be born again, none the wiser? He shuddered, fingering his wand for comfort.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Luna wondered as she stared into the jar.

"Extraordinary," Hasan agreed, looking nervously around him. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of doors to choose
from this time but a churning feeling in his gut he had long ago named anxiety told him to get a move on. His eyes fell
upon the door directly behind the bell jar, linear to the door through which they had just entered.

"Let's go," Hasan urged. He opened this door and nearly fell back onto Draco who was right behind him. It was the very
same room he had dreamed of before! The shiny black tile floor, the rows upon rows of shelves, stacked with neatly
labelled prophecies.

"The Hall of Prophecy," Draco breathed, neck craning to see the high arched ceiling. "Hey, there's a number here..."

"53," Hasan said, turning questioningly to Luna.

"Let's go that way," Luna pointed right, where the numbers began to climb. "I just have a feeling..." Her long legs walked
briskly to the higher numbers, drawing them further within the hall. Hasan suppressed a shiver and felt the Invisibility
Cloak with his fingers. In one swift motion he draped the cloak over his arm. Something made him hesitant about this
whole find-prophecy-save-Longbottoms plan...Surely somewhere in here was the prophecy about himself and
Voldemort, right? Temptation and dread mixed in Hasan's stomach and began to fizz. Biting his lip, he and Draco
followed the girl...

Luna stopped before row 77, silvery eyes wide with recognition. She turned to her companions, "This is it."
"It should have Luna's name on it," Draco informed them as the three began to scan the shelves."

Hasan studied each spun-glass orb with a discriminating emerald eye. Each had a milky mist inside, something that
was almost liquid, yet solid and...well, magical. Then he came upon one which seemed to shimmer for a second.
Thinking it was a trick of the light, Hasan passed over it, but then it caught his eye again. The mist had become golden.

"L-luna? Draco?" Then his eyes fell to the yellowish label beneath the golden sphere:

C.T. to M.P.

Luna Lovegood

and (?) Frank Longb ottom

and (?) Alice Longb ottom

"I think I found it-"

"Shh! Someone's coming!" Draco hissed.

Suddenly, the Invisibility Cloak was pulled gently from Hasan's arm and wrapped around the golden orb faster than he
could say "Slytherin!" In seconds, the cloak and the prophecy were tucked inside Luna's inner coat pocket. If Hasan had
blinked just for a moment he would have missed it, and unless someone checked row 77 specifically no one would be
any the wiser. Hasan's face almost split into a grin. Almost. Because as soon as he looked up, the blinding tip of a wind
was pointing in their faces.

"Mr. Castell, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Lovegood, shouldn't you all be in bed?" Albus asked, his blue eyes no longer twinkling.

Oh. Shit.

.oOo.

Peering from behind the headmaster's glowing wand tip was the rest of the Order, including Lucius and Narcissa.
Narcissa was close to having a full-blown meltdown. Lucius was about to hex his children into oblivion before locking
them in their room forever, for their own good, of course.

Hasan's eyes desperately sought out Severus who stood a little apart from the crowd, looking surprisingly resigned. In
fact, he was cursing Altair to all nine hells and back. So this was what he meant by safe, Severus sighed.

"We, we-" Draco stuttered, eyes darting back and forth between Luna and his father.

"Lucius, Narcissa, headmaster, I hardly think now is the time to listen to whatever nonsensical and inane things these
schoolchildren have to say to save their worthless hides. If I may, I will volunteer to b ab ysit these students and keep
them safe and out of trouble while the battle goes on."

All eyes were on Severus, some mouths were on the floor. Did the greasy dungeon bat just vouch for these
troublemaking students? Did he just say the word babysit?

Albus' eyes flashed with understanding, having thought the suggestion through in milliseconds. "If you would, Severus,
that would be most appreciated."

Lucius and Narcissa both looked like they wanted to say something, but Severus hardly took a step towards the kids
than the lights flickered twice and the shelves began to shake. Then all at once, the shadows began to descend.

.oOo.

The Order formed a circle around the children, instinctively protecting them from the dangers at hand. Albus began to
panic. They had come all this way for the prophecy, hadn't they? Now what were they going to do? They were near row 77,
not row 97! But no, Albus reminded himself, they had come all this way to see Justice served, to capture as many Death
Eaters as they could and hopefully end it all. If they did this, who cared what that dusty old orb had to say?

One by one, the Death Eaters emerged in front of them, their masks glowing eerily in the light.

"It's Dumbledore!" came a muffled cry of surprise.

Obviously they were not expecting to die tonight. Now the possibility was all too clear.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Lucy and 'Cissa come to play with us!" Bellatrix Lestrange took a step towards the group,
dissolving her mask with a muttered spell. Her long dark hair fell down in waves, bordering her angled face and
gleaming eyes.

"Bella," Lucius taunted. "Are you to tell me your Master sent you down here, knowing you would die?"

"Don't speak of the Dark Lord you traitor!" Bellatrix snapped, wand crackling with light. "And poor Sevvy!" Severus
stiffened. "I never was sure with you. How about you come over and help? No one will know if we obliterate them all! That
is, of course-" Her eyes sparkled with mirth as Severus scowled down at her like an inept first year. "I see." Bellatrix
pouted, signaling to her men. "Then we have nothing left to say to each other, do we? AVADA-"

But the Order was ready.

"Protego!"

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Diffindo!"

Echoes of spells no longer intelligible over the blasting and the shouting sent beams of light every which way. The row of
prophecies beside them was hit, the structure wavered in the nonexistent wind, and slowly began to curve down...

"Take the children and go!" Albus roared, casting a brilliant blue shield over his people. The shield flickered as the
prophecies began to descend, but by then the Order had scattered, shouting curses as they went. Severus took Draco by
the hand, who was luckily holding Hasan, who was holding Luna also. Snape cast a quick disillusionment charm over
the trio, not wanting Hasan to be the primary target in this battle. Hasan was now commonly known as Harry Potter, but
since the Death Eaters had never had contact with the boy on any hunting mission, Snape hoped that they wouldn't
immediately recognize the children he had. As soon as they saw his face, however, he knew all would be lost.

The Death Eaters took after them, their robes swirling in and out as they apparated and disapparated like ghosts come
for revenge. The prophecies fell as row after row was blasted off its support. The orbs shattered on the cold floor,
releasing their milky interior. Forms arose from the ground, voices resounding across the room, amplified by the high
ceiling. Macnair had lost his mask in the fray as had several other Death Eaters. Barty Crouch Jr. was also among them,
running into the time room with Tonks in the forefront.

"Stupefy!" Barty shouted, eyes alive with power. Tonks crashed headfirst into the table set before the Hall of Prophecy
entrance, causing the bell jar to topple and absorb her head like a bubble. Slowly her head began to shrink, back down
to that of an infant's, the bird trapped along with her as an egg. Barty let out a maniac cackle before Tonks sent a well-
aimed Diffindo at his crotch. That shut him up. With elegance befit of a Malfoy lady, Tonks lifted the time jar from her head
like a tiara and set it gently down on the table. Then she was on the run again.

Minerva and Lucius had sprinted off in another direction, flinging open a door at random. This room was pitch black but
for the miniature planets floating near the roof. Uranus swam by as the door opened once again. Three cloaked Death
Eaters entered the room, wands out.

"Colloportus!" one of them hissed, slashing his wand at the door. Minerva readied her wand. The door had just been
sealed off.

"Are you sure you saw that old hag and Malfoy go through here?"

"I'm sure of it! You can't mistake that hair! And I've had to look at that woman for years now!"

"Stupefy!" Minerva shouted, giving away their location with her spell.

"There they are!" someone shouted. "Crucio!" The spell deflected off of Pluto, exploding it in the process. Lucius moved
swiftly, casting his own array of spells.

"Incarcerous! Incendio! Reducto!"

Macnair came into view as the flames sprung around them. Next to him stood Mulciber and then Rodolphus. Rodolphus
was hit with the blasting curse, sending him spiraling into the sun, but Macnair managed to deflect the flames rapidly
encroaching upon him with a shouted Aguamenti! Meanwhile, robes rapidly began binding Mulciber from head to toe,
climbing up his torso, constricting his movement till he fell.
"Mr. Mulciber! I remember you never studied for my exams!" Minerva gasped as her erstwhile student wriggled in his
bonds.

"Can it, granny!" Macnair growled, "I had to listen to your Mudblood Loving crap for years! Now it's our turn to speak!
CRUCIO!"

Minerva was too late in drawing up her shields. The curse hit her straight in the chest, and at her age, it wouldn't take
much for her heart to stop beating. She kept the screams in, even though her very bones were on fire and cracking and
snapping. She was a strong, dignified lady, and she could take on Death Eaters any day.

Without really thinking about it, Lucius raised his wand, the curse on the tip of his tongue from his Death Eater days,
"Avada Kedavra!"

Macnair slumped to the ground, eyes still in their sockets. Minerva gingerly got up and locked eyes with Lucius.

"Thank you," she said.

Rodolphus seemed to be writhing in agony from burns he had gotten from the sun and Mulciber was still tied up.

"We should go," Lucius said, keeping his wand at the ready. Minerva nodded stiffly.

.oOo.

Severus tore through a door with the kids in tow, face war ready and blank. The disillusionment charm was flickering
since Severus got hit with a nasty blasting curse on his run. Luna blinked idly as Draco began to search for escape
routes. They entered into a large circular room with stone floors and raised benches. In the middle was a dais and on
the dais was a veil...Hasan stifled a gasp. This was it. This was the room he had been dreaming about for months...the
Death Chamber.

"I'd love to chat, 'Cissa, but I have bigger fish to fry!" Bellatrix yowled as she came crashing in through another door.
Narcissa was hot on her heals, hair whipping around her face.

"Impedimenta!" she shouted, missing her sister by an inch.

"Oh, you can do better than that!" Bella hissed, whipping around. The sisters resumed their duel, flashing colors back
and forth over the round chamber. More wizards stumbled through the doors around the wall. Albus himself came
through with Kingsley. The poor Auror had a broken leg and was limping along with the older wizard's support.

Lucius and Minerva entered in with Flitwick and Tonks, all looking a bit worse for wear. Shadows materialized inside the
room, dropping off Rodolphus and Mulciber and two more masked figures. All were paralyzed as they watched the
sisters battle it out.

"I always looked up to you!" Narcissa shouted, flinging a hex at her sister. "And now look at you! Insane! Undisciplined!
Undignified!"

"At least I don't hang around Mudbloods and Blood Traitors, dear sister!" Bellatrix hissed back. "You'd be better off dead!"

Bellatrix managed to hit Narcissa in the side, causing her to crumble near where Severus was standing, desperately
shielding the children who should not even be here.

"MOTHER!" Draco shouted, racing out of Snape's grasp. He turned his face upward to stare with pure loathing at his
aunt. "Crucio!" he hissed, watching as she fell to her knees, but only just. Bellatrix's mad cackle filled the chamber.

"You'll have to do better than that, boy, if you want to defeat your dear Aunt Bella!"

"CRUC-"

As if a spell had been broken, the fight broke out again. Albus set Kingsley on the floor, directing Tonks to look after him.

"Stupefy!" one of the still-cloaked Death Eaters shouted to the headmaster. Albus flicked his wand once and the spell
dissipated in thin air.

"Incarcerous!" Albus returned, brandishing his wand.

Though this enemy had fallen, two stood to take his place. Albus was in the thick of the battle like the rest of them, his
death was calling to them all.
"Is Albus Dumbledore getting too old for playing games?" Bellatrix cooed as she advanced. She had just finished
knocking Tonks unconscious and was ready to taste real meat and real blood.

Severus looked towards the headmaster with longing. He couldn't abandon Hasan and Luna here, he just couldn't!
(Draco had gone to tend to his mother's wounds.) But the Death Eaters were advancing and he didn't like Albus' chances
of survival. He knew, more than anyone, that no matter how skilled you were, four against one were not great odds.

"I'll watch them," Lucius wheezed from next to Severus. In his thoughts he hadn't even heard the blond approach. "Go to
him," Lucius whispered. "I have my orders to keep them safe as well."

Understanding flashed between the two men like lightning before Severus tore off to aid his mentor.

"My father asked you?" Hasan whispered behind him as Lucius began erecting a somewhat impenetrable shield.

"Yes, and bloody good timing he had too," Lucius muttered sarcastically, though inside he was worried. What had he
gotten himself into?

Luna turned her large silver eyes upon Hasan. Her heart was pounding as she lifted a finger to point to the veil.

"This is it," she said simply.

Hasan could only nod, his breathing quickened.

Across the room, Severus and Albus were fighting back to back. Their bodies moving fluidly to avoid the onslaught of
spells. Hasan wondered how long they could keep this up. The night was wearing on. As if in slow motion, a spell
slipped from behind Severus' shield and hit the headmaster's foot. From weariness, Albus made his first slip. His hands
reached out before him to break his fall. Severus rapidly cast a cushioning charm, but it was not enough to prevent
gravity from having her way. A curious glass vial slipped from the headmaster's robe and shattered upon the floor.

A cloud of blood red gas mushroomed up, surrounding the throng and Hasan could only stare. Could only stare and feel
his stomach sinking.

Melusine's hissing filled his head. :They came in a glass vial and I doub ted at first if the merchant had given me water
instead, b ut upon adding them to the potion, they b ecame a flaming red gas, a b rilliant scarlet!:

There went Hasan's chance of normal...and the headmaster had had them all along...Merlin's tears.

.oOo.

Oh shit! Severus thought as he was surrounded in the scarlet haze. He didn't know of anything that turned into red gas
upon vaporizing, except for cheap muggle concoctions. He could be in a gas chamber for all he knew, and yet, he had an
awful feeling in his gut that the headmaster had carried around with him something more mysterious and dangerous
than muggle liquids. Albus cleared the air with his wand as he regained his footing, letting Severus help him to stand.
The Death Eaters had fallen back from the gas, surely wondering if it was poisonous, if it was something Snape had
created to kill them all.

Luna grasped Hasan's hand tightly.

"No, no, no!" Hasan muttered. "Those were Merlin's tears! Those are the only way to get his thoughts out of my head!"

Lucius felt as if someone had hit him with a stunner. Altair's words from before suddenly began to make sense. This
boy...this boy was the pensieve! He turned around so fast that Luna actually backed away, wand up to protect her Hasan.

"You have the- you are the-" Lucius babbled, and for the second, his shield faltered.

Not losing any time, someone sent a cutting hex for Lucius' neck which luckily Hasan deflected on reflex. This was bad,
Hasan thought as more cloaked figures apparated into the tiny chamber. The Dark Lord was sending reinforcements...

The Dark Lord was...was...

Hasan's vision began to swirl, little bursts of black blossoming across his vision.

"Hasan? Hasan?" Luna asked worriedly, wiping his bangs from his eyes. She used her sleeve to wipe away the sweat
glistening on his pale forehead, gasping softly as his scar began to seep with blood.

"He's here," Luna whispered to Lucius. "Tom Riddle is here..."

A door burst open to reveal the Dark Lord in all his glory. It was perhaps the first time for many of them to see him in his
brand new body and he was damned determined to make a statement. He was back.

His blood red eyes locked onto Hasan's location, as if drawn like a magnet. The children were no longer disillusioned,
but many had yet to realize that Harry Potter was among them. Now that Voldemort was here it seemed useless to even
try to kill the boy-who-lived. They knew their master would take care of it.

Voldemort had long ago realized that the connection with the boy ran both ways. At times he was immersed in dismal
thoughts that depressed him for days. At other times he was happy as a kitten. Sometimes, Voldemort sent him visions.
Sometimes, Voldemort sent him dreams. Seeing that Hasan had made it to the Department of Mysteries pleased
Voldemort immensely. Now all he had to do was channel all his hate through the link and the boy would suffer as if the
cruciatus had been cast. It only worked in close proximity, though, which was why he hadn't tried it before now.

"Tom!" Albus called, hoping to draw Voldemort's attention from...well, no one was entirely sure why he was staring into
the distance with that gleeful smile stretched over his ophidian face.

"Can't you see I'm busy, Dumbledore?" the Dark Lord asked softly. The battle continued to rage, but Hasan noticed
nothing. There was a ringing in his ears so loud and so soft at the same time. He couldn't hold it in much longer. He was
going to burst...Hasan let out a blood curdling scream, seeming to last for hours. His eyes were being peeled back, his
sockets pummeled. He wanted to scratch his fingernails off his hand for they hurt him so much! And his scar! He began
to claw at his forehead amidst Luna's pleas to stop.

The Death Eaters were closing in on Dumbledore. Minerva was unconscious on the sidelines, as were Tonks, Kingsley,
and Narcissa. Draco and Flitwick tended to them while simultaneously shielding from the attackers.

There was no way they could win. Perhaps one-on-one, Dumbledore and Voldemort could hash it out, but with ten
cloaked figures shouting spells at Dumbledore and Severus alone, Snape was seriously considering disapparating out.
But he knew the unconscious people wouldn't make it. They would all have to be manually portkeyed. (Side-along
apparation wasn't safe for this many people.) So what choice did Severus have? He had to fight with Albus at his side,
despite the Dark Mark searing its way slowly down his arm.

"Crucio!" Snape screeched, beyond caring that Albus disapproved of the unforgivables. He didn't think he had hit anyone,
but a moment later, Bellatrix was on the ground, screaming for her life. Snape was furious that he even had to consider
dying here. That people he cared about were in danger, Lucius, Hasan, Draco, Narcissa, Minerva, Dumbledore...He
strengthened the cruciatus until Bellatrix passed out and then some.

And then the door opened again.

And Hasan could breathe.

.oOo.

Lucius turned towards his former master when the monster let out a gasp to still the earth. Dark Lords did not gasp, but
here he was, almost shaking. The Dark Lord's scarlet gaze was fixed on the newcomer in the room, so enraptured was
he that he even released Hasan from his torture. The Death Eaters paused, their marks temporarily not burning. They
had all heard the door open and now turned to watch.

Slowly, a man with brown hair and pale blue eyes entered the Death Chamber. He wore a black cloak and had in his
hands the most interesting relics. A cup, a ring, a locket, and a tiara.

Voldemort himself was in shock, and then he wasn't.

"IT CAN'T BE!" Voldemort screamed, finger pointed at the man shaking violently. "I KILLED YOU!" The pull of so many of
his soul shards left Hasan and Voldemort almost paralyzed, but Voldemort was not to be stopped by mere shock. And
shock it was for everyone, for Severus and Lucius and Albus Dumbledore, when the unknown man sprinted inhumanely
fast towards the veil...

Panic constricted the Dark Lord's heart. No. NONONONONONO!

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screeched, wand pointed perfectly at his target.

The green beam of light hit the man in the back...the horcruxes flew from his grip...and then he was gone. Just like that.
The ghostlike curtains fluttering as the horcruxes disappeared as well.

The pain of losing four of his horcruxes at once had Voldemort in the worst agony he had ever known! Worse even than
creating a horcrux! Worse even than the day he killed the Potters! The great Dark Lord fell to the ground in utter pain,
those bearing the Dark Mark falling with him. In a great shadow, the Dark Lord disapparated, leaving his Death Eaters to
fend for themselves.

Severus leant against the stone wall for support, not quite sure what had happened. His heart was beating furiously. He
was shaking he noticed vaguely. Somewhere in the back of his mind, alarms were going off, and then he saw Hasan
making a mad dash for the veil, for his father.

Severus launched himself from the wall with the energy he didn't have and caught Hasan around the waist, right before
he reached the dais. The boy was trembling, limb to limb, head to toe, scar bleeding, tears falling.

"No, it can't be, he's not dead, no, he-he loves me, he wouldn't die like that. He can't be DEAD!"

And Severus who was never really great at comforting anybody held the boy close as Dumbledore stunned the
unconscious Death Eaters in the background, including one Bellatrix Lestrange. And Lucius fell to his knees. And a
Unistral was born at the stroke of midnight.

.oOo.

When Fudge entered the Atrium early in the morning with all the other Ministry workers who worked the early shift, he
nearly spilled his latte all over himself. The Atrium was all in one piece, yes, but something was quite out of place.
Dumbledore stood in his regal robes, head tall despite his exhaustion. By his side, Severus Snape stood looking down
on him, and next to him was Lucius Malfoy.

"W-Wh-What is the meaning of this, Dumbledore?" Fudge asked, shoving his latte into the hands of a pudgy, pink-
dressed woman.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, Cornelius. What indeed is the meaning of leaving the Department of
Mysteries unlocked and unprotected for Lord Voldemort's forces to pillage? You will be happy to know that we have
protected as much as we could and have rounded up the Death Eaters left on the crime scene."

Fudge began to sputter again, but there was no way he could cover this up. Not when reporters had their cameras out
and were excitedly flashing away. The story would be plastered across every newspaper in Britain! Incompetent Minister!
Vote Dumb ledore! The Potter boy still hadn't given in to his advances and he hadn't done much to prepare the Wizarding
World for an all-out war himself...

Making up his mind, Fudge approached the three formidable men with his prize smile, aware of the reporters following
his every move. He stuck his hand out.

"Thank you," he said warmly though his eyes held steel. And the Atrium filled with applause.

.oOo.

Back at Lestrange Manor, the Dark Lord cried and cried. The tears were unknown to him. He had not cried in a very long
time. But the shock and the sadness began to ebb away to bloodlust and revenge. He reached into his pocket and
withdrew the spun glass orb of row 97. Hasan Castell was going to pay. Dumbledore was going to pay. Lucius and
Narcissa and Draco and the whole damned family was going to feel his wrath! And now...he had just the thing to do it.

The prophecy glowed faintly with its inner light, a mist inside holding the key to all his problems...With great force he
slammed the ball onto the floor and the figure of Sybill Trelawney rose from the ground.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..."

Oh yes, and Lord Voldemort would triumph over all!

A/N- Dumbles ruins the Merlin's Tears! Fudge makes a decision! Voldy has the prophecy! Altair...

PLEASE VOTE!

Where did you want Altair to go through the veil?

a) Afterlife

b) Alternate Universe
c) GHOST!

d) Nope. I don't want him going through the veil.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Thank you to:

DarkRavie, MacGyver, soel15, Original And Easy To Pronounce, krabi, Nagilover4ever, Thegirlfromhufflepuff,
Serpent91, EndlessChains, winka, lancewolf6, pinks99, medward, Pheonixs1518, and EnchantedUnicorn!
*Chapter 44*: Stolen Child
A/N: Thank you so so much for all of your lovely reviews! You guys are the very best!

All of your theories were very interesting. I've left a lot of clues around in previous chapters and chapters to come as
to what is happening. So I will post these chapters in the order I wrote them. It makes sense. :)

PLEASE ENJOY!

"Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."

-The Stolen Child by W.B. Yeats

Return of Emerald

Chapter 44: Stolen Child

Neville Longbottom wasn't sure how to feel as he stared down at his parents. They were each lying down in firm white
beds with soft down-filled pillows. There were beautiful pink flowers in the vase next to the bed.

Augusta stood over her grandson, bent over with grief. Her usual strictness was watered down by the tears she wouldn't
let fall.

"Oh Alice...Frank! We should have visited you more often. We should have spent more time with you...We..."

Neville wanted to turn away from his grandmother. He didn't like to see her so upset- it unsettled him. But he couldn't
bring himself to leave the room. He stared at his mother's thin frame, her frail bones, her once rounded face now gaunt
and empty. Her hair was silver, streaked with white, though Neville thought a few hair care spells would take years off of
her. He knew they looked worse than normal because their magic was slowly fading. The longevity gifted to wizards was
leaving their systems and the aging process did not wait for anyone. Neville wiped the tears from his cheeks.

Really, what difference would taking them off of life support be? They were dead anyway...

Augusta continued to sniffle beside him, blowing her nose into an emerald green handkerchief embroidered with golden
pears. From the door, their guests teetered in anticipation.

"Neville?" Augusta asked, voice filled with grief. She turned to him, taking in his red-rimmed eyes. "Why don't you go
outside with Remus? Get some fresh air from this ward, hm?"

Neville reluctantly tore his gaze from his mother's face, knowing that his gran was really asking for privacy and that she
needed it desperately.

"'Course, Gran." The boy walked out on stilt-stiff legs, towards the visible plaid-sleeved elbow of Remus Lupin. His mild
voice carried far in the silent hallway, but words were indistinct at a certain distance.

Sirius, who was facing slightly towards the door, spotted Neville first.

"Hey, Neville. How are you holding up?"

Neville entered the hall shakily and shut the door quietly behind him.

"Give him some space, Siri," Remus admonished, breaking off a piece of dark chocolate for the grieving boy.

"Thanks," Neville murmured quietly as he nibbled at the candy.

"The Weasleys have gone down to the cafeteria, in case you were wondering," Sirius said with a pitiful chuckle. "Ron
can't go long without some sort of food."
Remus shot him a glare. It was understandable that Sirius, in his own grief for a dying comrade, tactlessly ignored the
fact that Ron had beaten Neville up earlier in the year. Remus could forgive him for his faults because Remus was
suffering too, but Neville couldn't.

"Thanks, but I'd rather not," Neville said, licking his lips. He still remembered the ache in his ribs that Ron and his friends
had caused, and the subsequent...revelations afterwards about who he was. He wished Daphne were here with him
today, but the event was perhaps too personal for even his girlfriend. That, and the Order didn't trust any outsiders. They
could only afford to spare Remus, Sirius, and the Weasleys but they would take even Ron, Neville's previous tormentor,
over an evil slimy Slytherin. Over the love of his live. He fingered the Protean ring on his finger, the one that Daphne's
fingers had ghosted over by chance that one fateful day. After explaining to Daphne what it was for, she had insisted that
she have one too. To offer him support, she said.

Which was why Neville didn't feel so lonely with only the Order spares as company. He felt the little silver ring and thought
of Daphne, knowing she would receive his message: My soul is b reaking right now. I hope you keep my heart safe at
least.

As he finished his message, a mediwitch bustled by, clipboard in hand. She rested sorrowful eyes on Neville before
sharply rapping the door to Ward 49.

"E-enter!" Augusta called from within.

The nurse slipped inside. "I have some...difficult news."

.oOo.

The Weasleys trampled up the stairs, loud and rowdy as their parents had stayed behind to talk. Ron wasn't ashamed of
what he did to Neville ("Look at what he did to Ginny!") but he did understand Neville's parents... Kind of.

Ginny tousled her hair beside him, glancing at herself in one of the hallway mirrors. Fred and George hadn't come
because they were posted at Hogwarts, helping Madame Pomfrey to prepare for the injured sure to come. And of course,
Bill and Charlie were already out of the house, not even available to come.

When the two Weasley kids reached the Longbottom ward, the found everybody outside. A mediwitch talked to them in
calm, low tones, but her words weren't minced.

"Frank's body is fighting the loss of magic. He wants it back. Ordinarily this would mean a few days rest, some hot soup,
and some potions, but Frank can't replenish the magic. What little natural magic he has is being used, overused, to
make up for the loss of what our hospital has provided...He won't make it the three days. We are sorry."

Neville's legs collapsed beneath him, causing Remus to hold him up by his arms. Augusta let out a wail that had Arthur
and Molly running.

"THREE DAYS! AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN GIVE HIM THAT!" Sirius was roaring, overcome with grief and anger. His time
in Azkaban left him more emotional than before, but it hadn't ever been that bad. He hadn't had to deal with something
like this yet.

"Sirius! It's not her fault!" Remus bellowed as the woman cowered beneath her clipboard.

"We're very sorry!" the nurse said, close to tears herself, "but there's nothing that we can do!"

At that moment, Molly and Arthur arrived at the scene. "What's happening? Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, just one of them's going sooner rather than later," Ron sneered maliciously, trading looks with Ginny. Honestly,
they were both going to die anyway. It was such a waste of time to hang around the hospital and grieve for three days! He
could be at Grimmauld Place playing quidditch! He could be doing things! It was his summer, too! Just because Neville
had looney parents didn't mean he had to suffer for it!

Molly whipped around at the sound of her son's voice. She turned so fast that she even caught sight of Ginny's smug
face.

"RONALD AND GINEVRA WEASLEY!" Molly shouted, brandishing her wand.

"Miss, you can't have wands in here, it disturbs the-" the mediwitch began.

"I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO CURSE YOU NOW. BUT YOU WILL BE SORRY AFTER I'M DONE WITH YOU."
Arthur, too, looked ready to murder. He knew Ron was a little prickly, but he didn't really believe he would just beat up
Neville in cold blood. The headmaster himself assured them that it had been a tiny schoolyard brawl. But the spark in
Ron's eyes wasn't imaginary. Nor was Ginny totally innocent.

Augusta had pulled herself together with some chocolate from Remus and now stood beside Molly, a force to be
reckoned with.

"You will indeed suffer for everything you say, think, or do against my family. Learn to grow up. This is war and good
people like my children in there die for the likes of you." Augusta snarled at the two who really looked frightened now. "I
would learn to grow up fast if I were you."

Neville watched his Gran defend him in amazement, thumb rubbing soothingly over the ring that burned back with a
message: You're always safe with me. But nothing, not anything in the world, would ever fill the void of his parents. He
began to know how Hasan felt.

.oOo.

Fred and George were fluffing pillows when chaos erupted in the Hospital Wing. First, the scent of blood filled their
noses. Then the noise. Albus Dumbledore was the first to regain his composure. He was swaying on his feet,
weariness sketched in every line of his face. The next to look around the room with dark glittering eyes was Severus. He
too looked the worse for wear, having blood spots all over him, cloak torn in some places to shreds. Flitwick, though
short, was also alert. His funny hair matted to his face with sweat, and his wand grasped tightly in his shaking hand.
Between the group lay the injured...and the kids.

Madame Pomfrey fairly ran to her patients, helping Albus, Severus, and Flitwick to levitate the injured onto beds. Lucius
carried his wife himself, wiping away a stray blonde lock from her eyes.

"Goodness gracious, Albus! What on earth has happened down there?" Poppy asked as she set immediately to work,
Snape with potions at her side.

"War, that's what happened," Kingsley said, holding his broken leg in agony. He was barely awake, yet felt the need to get
in his opinion.

"The Death Eaters decided to make a scene," Snape sneered, grabbing some Calming Draughts to force down Hasan,
Draco, and Luna's throats. "Bellatrix always was so messy."

Lucius wasn't sure how he felt as Severus sneered at the Death Eaters' operations. Had he always done this? Moments
after leaving Lucius, after fighting with Lucius, laugh at what fools they always were? The missions he thought so covert
and sleek, just child's play to Dumbledore's Order? But no, he looked at Severus' eyes and saw the tiredness there and
the fear. In his own way, he was offering comfort, lightening the mood. What an odd concept.

Fred and George stayed out of Madame Pomfrey's way, staying in the corner where they could keep an eye on things.
They watched as Snape, the greasy git from the dungeons, knelt in front of Hasan, lifting his chin up with two fingers. The
boy was practically comatose, all the energy about him gone.

"Hasan, drink this for me...please?" Severus knew he was being watched by those dratted Weasley twins but he didn't
care. All he cared about was Hasan and how he wasn't responding.

"What is it?" Hasan asked finally, voice flat and even. Emotion squashed from his voice.

"It's a Calming Draught," Severus said calmly. "I suggest you drink it."

But the boy made no move.

Luna's eyes became distant, her body relaxed. "There's been a change," she whispered. "There's been a change..."

The floo flared to life in Pomfrey's office, Arthur Weasley's face sticking up through the ash. "He won't make it!" Arthur
sobbed. "Frank won't make it!"

In the ensuing confusion, Severus locked both children with a stare, scooped Hasan up in his arms, and left.

.oOo.

Severus Snape was never good at comforting children. Yelling, blaming, hating, he got, but comforting just wasn't
familiar territory. He shifted Hasan in his arms as he reached his private quarters, kicking open the door with a hissed
password.

The night's events were finally sinking in and Severus was not ready for it. He needed more time! More time, that bloody
sod!

Setting Hasan onto his couch, he took out his vial of Calming Draught and poured it down the boy's parted lips. He then
ran his long fingers down Hasan's throat so that he would swallow and not vomit it back up onto his carpet.

"Hasan...Hasan...Hasan, talk to me!" The Potions Master paced the floor in front of his fireplace as his mark flared up.
The world was officially going to hell!

When he looked back at the boy, he noticed that Hasan's emerald green eyes were dulling again. Not quite jade but
close. With a horrible, sinking, suspicion, he scrutinized the boy's hair and declared it not Potter-quality. The damn boy
was reverting.

"Hasan, it's Severus," Snape began again, feeling his pace quicken. He had known the sudden change in Hasan had
been bad seven months ago! He had known it! But NO! Dumbledore had been delighted in the Gryffindorized Slytherin
and hadn't batted an eyelash! Lucius, he knew, thought him paranoid, but really, when one was dealing with Altair...He
took a deep breath. No! He would not think about it!

"Hasan, please! It's Severus, your friend. I knew your father. His name was Altair-"

At the name, Hasan's head snapped up, his eyes holding a tiny amount of light in them. Yes! Now, to draw him out a bit
more.

"Yes, Altair. He was such a pain in the arse sometimes. He really was. He always said to make this and make that for
him. Had me deliver his potions in these asinine brown bags. I had to meet him in person nearly every month! And his
disguises! He absolutely loved nonchalantly plucking people's hair off of their clothing or even their own heads! I never
could understand him...I still can't."

Then, like a great surge the Potions Master cried. He didn't understand it. It was so bloody unfair, leaving him with
Hasan. Leaving him with nothing! Nothing! Doing...doing what he was doing! Bending the fucking laws of time! Severus
had never been one to have many friends, but as idiotic as Altair was, as difficult and horribly irritating as the man could
be, Severus still missed him! He felt betrayed, in the deepest and most sacred ways. He squeezed his eyes shut, angry
at his own loss of control, when Hasan's hand fell upon his.

"He left us both."

Startled, for he had forgotten who was with him, Severus looked up into those jade green eyes and hair as dark brown
as Altair's and registered a flicker. But it was just that, a flicker. And it was gone the next second.

.oOo.

Lucius Malfoy, being one who could actually stay on two feet without falling over, was assigned the delightful job of
Poppy's helper. He ran from patient to patient, constantly measuring vitals. It was one thing to have a broken leg, but
quite another to be an elderly old woman held under cruciatus by a sadistic executioner.

Minerva had fallen asleep some time ago, thanks to a Dreamless Sleep potion, but Lucius continued to diligently move
his wand over her body and check for signs of after-shock and whatnot. Flitwick tended Narcissa as he had extensive
knowledge of curses from his time as a dueling champion. No one had heard what Bellatrix had cast on her sister, but it
was sure to be nasty. Everyone assumed that Flitwick didn't know that much about the Dark Arts because of his size and
Cheering Charm affinity, but the truth was, he could best Death Eaters any day. Now, if only he knew what curse Bellatrix
had used...

"How long would you say you had your head in the jar, dear?" Poppy asked Tonks as she started coming around.

"I-I think...just a few seconds?"

"Hmmm..." Poppy pursed her lips. A bell jar of Time, did they think she was a miracle worker? She looked over at Lucius
and waved him over. Perhaps he would know someone who could tell them.

.oOo.

Albus ended his firecall with Arthur before the floo was opened and the other half of his Order tumbled through. Arthur
and Molly came in first, then Augusta and Neville, with Sirius, Remus, Ron, and Ginny following last. The Weasley
children had red cheeks and wouldn't look him in the eye when he greeted them.

"Augusta, Neville, I am so, so sorry," Albus sighed. "This day has been hard on all of us it seems."

"Did you manage to stop that nasty son-of-a-bitch?" Augusta asked sharply.

"We have captured many of his Death Eaters and have all survived the encounter," Albus told her, ignoring the niggling in
the back of his mind that reminded him that the fated prophecy had gone missing during the fight.

"Good!" Augusta said. "I won't have them taking any more of our children!"

The newcomers entered into the Hospital Wing, taking in everyone's injuries. Fred and George leapt from their corner to
greet their family, taking note of the way Ron and Ginny behaved.

"What are they doing here?" Remus asked mildly as he caught sight of Draco and Luna talking quietly to one side.

"Mr. Malfoy and Miss Lovegood? That is perhaps a good question for another day."

.oOo.

Hasan remained impassive as Severus tried to comfort him. There was too much to process. It felt as if he had been at
the Department of Mysteries months ago. Not...not today. No, surely it wasn't today. First, the Dark Lord had arrived,
clearly knowing how to manipulate the bond they shared. Hasan stored this information away for later. Could he learn to
do that same? Then, of course, his father had come...

For the past year, Altair had been distant. No more home for the holidays (home was Malfoy Manor now). No more
anything. Altair had assured him he wasn't just giving him up, ab andoning him, to the Malfoy family, but that was exactly
what he had done, hadn't he? Perhaps, beneath all that glorious laudable change Hasan had undergone Hasan was
really just coping. When had Altair last written to him? Everything had been a verbal message through Lucius, hadn't it?
Lucius would keep him after breakfast or lunch or dinner, wait until Draco was otherwise occupied, before telling him
what great new news his father had today.

He had been sick of it! What type of father was Altair anyway? Not to even mention the, that, that FUCKING PENSIEVE!
Hasan's hand stiffened over Severus'. His breathing was becoming difficult to control. What little of his brain was left
functioning swirled in chaos.

Because as angry as Hasan was, as angry as he had every fucking right to be, Altair was gone. Gone forever. And Hasan
was left all alone.

That's not true, you have Narcissa, Lucius, Draco, Luna, Severus too! You're so ungrateful you little b rat. You don't even
deserve-

And at the same time thinking and knowing that every human needed relief, that it was absolutely completely human to
need to vent or cry or express emotion...How he hated being human! Hasan squeezed his eyes shut, not caring about
the hot tears that leaked through his lashes. What Altair had done was betrayal. He knew the word and it tasted vile
across his tongue. His father. HIS FATHER had abandoned him! How was he supposed to deal with this? No one had
written a manual for this! Who was he to confide in?

You're making Severus worry. Altair was his friend too. You know Altair lived longer than you, with more friends and
memories than you could ever imagine. Severus is prob ab ly hurting more! And here you are, some poor idiot b oy who
had just enough power to wiggle into the last years of Altair's life!

He knew his inner voice was treacherous. He knew he shouldn't even be listening to it. Or considering it, but really...How
much did he even know Altair anyway? Didn't it seem like he always had his own agenda? Watching him martyr
himself...running towards that veil (how glorious! savior!). Didn't Altair realize that Hasan needed him too? That it might
not have been worth killing himself over? How many horcruxes did he even have in his hands? Hasan had been so
blinded by pain that he hadn't even had the strength to concentrate!

So fucking useless. You should b e so happy your father cared enough ab out you to sacrifice himself. His life goal was to
defeat Voldemort (the man he never thought fit to inform you of until you were eleven) and you were only a smidgeon of
his life. You never mattered. Not as much as the power. He didn't even know you were Harry Potter! He thought you were
just another orphan, easily taken advantage of, easy to lure in with promises of family and forever as he implanted
memories in your head at night...

SHUTUP!SHUTUP!SHUTUP!
Severus began to worry as Hasan froze up. The boy had been unresponsive for the last twenty minutes, still with his cold
hand upon his. This couldn't go on...

A knock at the door brought both of them out of their musings. Severus felt at once relieved and tired. He needed help
dealing with Hasan, but did he really want to deal with more people? Casting a charm to let him see who was outside of
the door, he sighed and let them in. Figures Black and Lupin would want to snoop around his private chambers to make
sure he wasn't doing anything nefarious to their cub , as he had once heard Lupin call the boy affectionately.

"Severus," Lupin started before catching sight of Hasan, zombielike, beside him. "How is he?" he wondered softly.

Severus sighed deeply. "He's not responding. I fear he has retreated into his mind or...reverted back to his previous
nature."

As Black and Lupin inched around to seat on the couch opposite, they caught sight of Hasan's changed face and
gasped. Indeed, it did seem as if a total relapse were at hand. He looked nothing like the James Potter Jr. they had
learned to associate with the name of Hasan.

"Hasan?" Sirius asked quietly, having gotten used to calling him such. "Cub? Hasan, it's just Sirius. Your godfather."

Hasan turned to him, face blank but eyes level with his.

"How are you doing?" Lupin asked. "Are you holding up well?" The details of the night weren't fully disclosed yet as most
of the Order was unconscious in the Hospital Wing, but Lupin knew Altair has somehow died, causing Snape to
sequester their godson in his rooms. They were all startled when Hasan spoke.

"How am I doing what?" His voice was also quiet but hoarse as if he had been screaming for a long time.

"How..." Sirius leaned further in his seat. "How are you feeling?"

Hasan bit his lip, completely unaware of this action. How was he feeling about what? And when? And did they really want
to have feelings on his father's death this early? No matter what question he thought Sirius could be asking, the answer
was still the same.

"I don't know."

Severus, content to watch the exchange, said nothing.

"Well, that's good I suppose- ow! Moony!"

"What he means to say, Hasan," Lupin said, "Is that he's happy you're safe."

Now that was hoot! Safe! You mean, a homicidal psychopath really wasn't on the loose and out to kill him? Wow. Hasan
frowned bitterly, eyes glaring.

"Safe?" Hasan repeated dangerously. "Safe is knowing your father doesn't need to kill himself for the Greater Good. Safe
is knowing Voldemort is dead. Safe is knowing a murderer isn't out to get you and you haven't been fated to kill him!"

The married couple exchanged looks.

"Perhaps you had better go," Severus suggested darkly, really really trying to prevent his lip from curling up at their
abysmal attempts. "I am sure Hasan and I will be fine for the night."

"But-"

"Come on, Siri. Remember, Dumbledore wanted us to help check on the patients."

"Yes, you're right."

As the two men exited the room, with Snape looking disparagingly down his nose at their retreating forms, Hasan let out
a long yawn and promptly fell asleep.

.oOo.

Dumbledore sat in the high-backed chair behind his desk, wrinkled hands clasped before him.

"That man who ran through the Veil was your father?" Albus asked, peering closely at Hasan through benevolent blue
eyes.

Hasan bit his lip. Father? Was Altair considered his father? Who even was Altair to him? Emotionally, he felt betrayed by
his...father?

Albus sighed as the boy remained irritatingly pensive throughout the entire meeting. "Mr. Castell, the man through the
Veil! Was he also a Castell?"

Slowly, the boy with jade eyes nodded, head bent at a low angle. The boy associated with Harry Potter was gone. In his
place was the invisible boy. The one that had remained hidden for so long. Silent...secretive.

Albus had decided to chat with Hasan first before the others came in and Hasan had to go see Madam Pomfrey for a
once over anyway-that, or Poppy would have both of theirs heads. Unfortunately, his chat proved less fruitful than he had
hoped. Severus' warning that it was too early yet to push the boy rang mockingly in his ears. Yes, perhaps he should
have listened to Severus, but this was absolutely serious! He had finally grasped who had been behind everything just a
few hours ago! He felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him. Certainly, he had waited long enough for the
answers.

Hasan resolutely refused to look at him, preferring to stare at Fawkes instead.

"Hasan, my boy, I am terribly sorry for your loss. I know you have been through a terrible ordeal and I know Minerva would
say I'm asking too much, but please! I need to know about this man!"

Suddenly, Hasan's head snapped up. He glared at the headmaster, eyes flashing emerald, before a blankness settled
over his features once more.

"I know nothing about that man!" Hasan spat bitterly. At times he wished he were back on Red Mill's Hill. He felt terrible,
his heart contorting in grief.

Albus nodded his assent. That was all he was going to get out of the boy today...

"Well, off you go, Hasan. Madam Pomfrey is waiting for you."

.oOo.

Moments after the boy exited the office, Lucius, Narcissa, and Severus strode in. Albus suspected they had been
conspiring in the Potions Master's chambers if not in Lucius' own before coming.

"Good afternoon, Lucius, Narcissa, Severus, thank you for coming. I do have some questions as you can imagine."
Albus sighed long and hard as the three sat in the plush chairs conjured for them. "Lemon drop?" he added.

Severus sneered as the headmaster again offered his infernal sweets.

"No thank you, Albus. I think we had better get started, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, right of course, Severus. Well, I suppose my first question is, who was that man?" Dumbledore looked
expectantly at Lucius.

The three were silent for a moment. Narcissa looked closely at her husband's face, seeing it pale and stiffen.

"That is a very good question, Albus, unfortunately I feel that only Severus can answer thus far."

Narcissa swallowed audibly. All they had discussed earlier was that Albus could know everything now and so could they.
All secrets were free to come out...

"Severus?" Albus questioned.

Snape cleared his throat. "His name is Altair Dean Castell. He was to be a Death Eater but somehow found an escape."

"I take it you knew him then?" Albus asked curiously.

Back then, not after then. "No." Snape leaned back in his seat. "I was younger than Lucius and thus below in rank...
Lucius at the time was only a Death Eater in training and he knew Altair best. Narcissa, I am afraid did not enter our story
as of yet."

Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth and sucked at it thoughtfully. Lucius knew the man best and yet could not
answer his questions? Was he obliviated as Albus himself had been? It was a distinct possibility.

"Obliviation?" Albus questioned.

"Yes," Lucius answered.

"So how have you all gotten involved?" Albus asked. "I am most curious as to how you, Narcissa, came to learn of this
man."

"Perhaps you should go first, Severus, as it appears you know more than either of us," Narcissa suggested.

"Very well. I met Altair precisely ten hours after he broke into my private laboratory and downed the closest potions he
could find at random from my work desk." Snape's dry tone belied his concern and grief, but he trudged on, ensconcing
himself in his memories. "I worked for the Dark Lord. Of course, all the potions on my table were poisons, and yet, that
idiot took his chances. He was desperate. I have since begun to rethink my opinion, but I'll tell the story as it happened.
After being declared dead, Altair came to me telling me he had acquired some great gift of seeing magical auras and
wanted me to create a potion for him to dampen this power. From then on, I delivered potions monthly to him. He
adopted Hasan based on his 'aura readings'." By his sneer it was obvious what Snape thought of those. "And proceeded
to raise the boy in France. And this was about the time when Lucius began to get headaches."

Snape and Lucius exchanged a look and Lucius took over the story.

"I had horrible headaches...Horrible. I looked terrible too. It was so hard to sleep. I began to realize I was missing years
of my life about the time I realized I had memories of Altair. I was too scared to tell my wife exactly what was happening,
but she was concerned all the same. Severus came over to help me...Knowing what I know now, he probably knew
exactly what had gone wrong with me. I can't exactly remember much else."

"And Narcissa?" Dumbledore asked.

"I obliviated her," Severus volunteered.

Everyone looked sharply at the dour Potions Master in surprise.

"I believe he's right," Narcissa said smoothly. "I can't recall Altair at all before he contacted me one day asking me to
retrieve the Cup of Hufflepuff for him."

"The Cup of Helga Hufflepuff?" Albus echoed, amazed.

"Yes," Narcissa nodded, "That's right. He had Lucius get horcruxes for him and their correspondence had me...worried
about our relationship. To be perfectly honest, I thought Lucius was cheating on me."

"I assume all of the horcruxes went with Mr. Castell when he dashed through the Veil the other day?"

"Altair had obtained the Cup of Hufflepuff, Gaunt's Ring, Slytherin's Locket, and Ravenclaw's Diadem by the time he
decided to kill himself," Severus replied. "Am I correct in assuming that Lucius was responsible for getting the Ring?"

Lucius nodded.

"Thank you, Lucius, for saving me from temptation," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I remember that day very clearly..."

"You're welcome, headmaster."

"I sense there is more you're not telling me," Albus said gently. "I hope you don't feel that you have to withhold information
from me. I thought we agreed to come clean to defeat Tom Riddle once and for all!"

Severus studied Lucius' face, contemplating whether he would be able to suffer the shock. Depending on the nature of
the memories that leaked he might already have suspected...

"Headmaster, Lucius, Narcissa, this is rather delicate information, but I do have a few more of the missing puzzle pieces
though they may be hard to hear."

"I wish to know," Lucius said with conviction.

"As do I," Narcissa agreed.

"Very well then...there was a reason why Lucius and Altair went separate ways. Why Lucius married Narcissa and why
Lucius now has the Dark Mark branded on his forearm. Altair is to blame for all of it."

Snape denounced him so forcefully that Lucius even jumped to Altair's defense once: "He couldn't have!"

Snape ignored him.

"Immediately after leaving Hogwarts, the two began to research blood purity in relation to magical power. It became
apparent that there was no correlation, and yet, a study of this magnitude by a pureblood no less, would have destroyed
the Dark Lord's campaign to lure in the purebloods. Altair knew the danger he had put Lucius in, so decided to obliviate
him for his safety."

"That's rather extreme," Narcissa remarked, understanding what Snape left unsaid.

Lucius grew hot. He knew exactly why.

"That's because they were lovers," Severus said with no emotion whatsoever.

"Not just lovers," Lucius nearly choked out, "We were married as well. I remembered that a while ago..."

Narcissa gasped, feeling like her insides had been plunged in ice. That was just...awful. Would Lucius have even
married her if not for Altair's interference?

"I see," Albus said solemnly. "And the memories he obliviated are coming back then?"

"No." Lucius shook his head. "Actually, the reason why I even listened to the man in the first place was that he promised
to return my memories. Now, I feel that it is close to impossible..."

"Not necessarily," Snape interjected. "There is a potion that I believe can help, except of course, one of the ingredients
was Merlin's tears and the headmaster dropped his vial."

Albus was stunned. He had held a vial of Merlin's tears this whole time? Suddenly he felt very guilty. All this time and
Severus could have used them.

"Altair didn't have extra?" Narcissa wondered. "He always seemed to have foresight."

Snape frowned at that. "Perhaps...But I sincerely doubt anything he has bestowed upon us in his will will be released any
time soon."

"Indeed," Albus agreed. "The Ministry won't know how to handle such a case."

"But the goblins might..." Lucius said, remembering the words of Griphook. "Goblin law is not the same as Human law."

"That's just bloody great," Snape huffed, "Hasan's not of age yet. We can't get in unless we have the physical key-"

"The box," Lucius interrupted. "Altair said he had put measures in place in case things didn't go as planned!" He turned
towards Severus excitedly. "You wouldn't happen to have a box, would you?"

Snape's eyes widened.

A/N- Altair is...

No one knows why Luna and Draco were at the DOM! Hasan's losing it! Severus is sad! Confessions! (Sorry
Narcissa, this story would have been so much less complicated if only you hadn't been obliviated!) Snape's got a
box! Unfortunately, Neville's parents are...not doing so well. My Uncle has a terminal disease in the same vein as
ALS, so some of my emotions are probably leaking through.

Anyway...thank you to all of those who reviewed! 28 last chapter? Wow! I'm impressed since I've only got an average
of 11 for the three chapters previous. ;)

Thank you to:

angel987, MintMousse, Umbrardor, Serpent91, Original And Easy To Pronounce, guest, Dark Ravie, migotka21,
Christine, guest, NobodyLikeMe, guest, EndlessChains, Thegirlfromhufflepuff, TyrialFrost, Remvis, Jardar, pinks99,
krabi, phoenix-rob, Nagilover4ever, medward, EnchantedUnicorn, Shalifi, Chi Vayne, guest, Araytigre, and LizaMa!
Please REVIEW!
*Chapter 45*: Real Gods
A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 999 WONDERFUL REVIEWS. I LOVE YOU ALL. Here's a bonus quote for you!

"All gods who receive homage are cruel.

All gods dispense suffering without reason.

Otherwise they would not be worshipped...

Half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers.

Real gods require blood."

- "Their Eyes Were Watching God"

by Zora Neale Hurston

"Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay."

-"Nothing Gold Can Stay"

by Robert Frost

Return of Emerald

Chapter 45: Real Gods

After the Malfoys, Lord Voldemort didn't think anything else would surprise him about his treacherous Death Eaters, but
Severus Snape, as only Snape could do, proved him wrong. When he figured out sometime after the battle (for he was a
bit preoccupied during it) that the man had been playing him all along, he was mad with rage. The entire East Wing of
Lestrange Manor now had to be put back together, for magic could only do so much. Severus Snape. He knew there had
been something off about him after begging for that mudblood's life! If only he had listened to his instincts sooner! Now
he was stuck without money and without potions. Bellatrix even assigned herself to be his nursemaid which she
promptly got hexed for. He had spent the better part of the day with just Nagini, speaking his thoughts aloud in
parseltongue. He was struck once by the bizarre comparison that he was a girl speaking with her cat, and, as there
wasn't anyone on hand to curse, laughed to the empty room.

But his laughter turned cold and his thoughts drifted to the night before.

Lord Voldemort couldn't help the shiver of fear that ran up his ophidian spine at the thought of Altair Castell. The memory
of the man's death was hazy and unclear to him as he had never made any particular effort to memorize his death, but he
knew enough. He had shot Altair Castell in the heart with a jet of emerald green light, the Avada Kedavra, and the man
had died. DIED. So then, how in the world had that man come to be there? Polyjuice? Dark Magic? As if Dumbledore
would ever consent to such a thing, unless...Unless of course the man was working independently of the old coot! Yes,
that made much more sense.

Voldemort stroked lazily along Nagini's back as he lay on his bed. Altair had had his horcruxes and the pain of having his
soul ripped from this world was unimaginable! He could feel his own soul calling out, hyperextended to touch its kin, only
to have the other pieces disappear forever. Though the physical pain was still with him, present in his shortness of
breath and days spent in bed, his mind was ever working. Somehow, someway, Altair Castell had succeeded where he
had not. He had defied death. And somehow, this terrified him.

A knock on the door let him know that his servants had arrived with the news for which he thirsted. With a flick of his wrist,
the great double-doors of Lestrange Manor opened up, revealing Bellatrix and the ever lovely Fenrir Greyback.
"My lord!" Bellatrix called, falling to the floor. Greyback echoed her movements, but with fewer dramatics.

"My lord."

Voldemort stilled his hands from petting his beloved pet, causing her to crane her neck to rub up against his palm.

"You may rise, my loyal servants."

The two stood in place, averting their eyes from the giant bed in which he was lying as if they knew how self-conscious
he was by the fact.

"Bellatrix, you may go first."

"Thank you, my lord!" Bellatrix crooned. "It has been done. Frank Longbottom has been put under the imperius curse!
Now when little baby Neville comes to visit his mommy and daddy, Frank will strangle him at the earliest convenient
moment!"

"And why, Bellatrix, have you not subdued the mother as well? Surely her mind is as malleable as clay?"

"We tried, my lord! But her innate magic was resisting the curse. It lashed out at us-!"

"CRUCIO!" Voldemort hissed, "I will not tolerate failure! I am beginning to question why I ever aligned myself with the
Lestranges if they are as incompetent as the rest of their extended family!" Memories of the Malfoys' betrayal burned his
eyes red. "CRUCIO!"

Greyback watched out of the corner of his eyes Bellatrix take the beating for her family. He couldn't help the smug lift of
his lips as he watched her writhe under the spells. Oddly, he thought she was enjoying it, just a tiny bit...

"I have always known that Hasan Castell was Harry Potter, ever since I shared the head of that dundering fool, Quirrel!
But after listening to the famed prophecy, finally, I am beginning to see how Dumbledore may have helped me after all to
identify the real targets! We must eliminate Neville Longbottom at all costs! It shouldn't have been that hard to curse his
demented parents! Greyback!"

"Yes, my lord?"

"I want you stationed at St. Mungo's when the Longbottom boy visits his parents for the last time. I have heard he ran out
into the forbidden forest after learning of Harry Potter's true identity. Let us hope he is as impulsive and rash as he was
before so that we may make short work of him and focus on the real threat!"

"As you wish it, my Lord. The boy will not live past three days, I assure you," Greyback answered with a feral growl.

The doors opened again five minutes later, with Bellatrix and Greyback looking a bit worse for wear. Snatches of
conversation were picked up as they walked down the hall. The Carrows were whispering in hushed tones, as were
Crabbe and Goyle by the kitchen. Dolohov was leaning towards Gibbon, their eyes wandering once and a while towards
the room that housed the Dark Lord.

"...I heard his name was Castell, like the Potter's boy..."

"...funny objects..."

"...risen from the dead..."

"...with Lucius...before Narcissa..."

"...reluctant to take the mark..."

"...disappeared...bank records say..."

"...lovers...should have known...Lucius...traitor..."

"...believe it? Snape, I told you!..."

"...Lucius gay?..."

.oOo.
"You let him obliviate me?" Narcissa asked quietly as they walked towards Lucius' rooms. (Snape had left them to
retrieve Hasan from the Hospital Wing and him to Grimmauld Place with the others.)

Her footsteps were soft patterings beside his own. Careful, wary.

"Narcissa..." Lucius pleaded. "I wasn't involved with that. Please, if I knew you remembered I would have let you keep
your memories...Believe me," he added as an afterthought, "I would have let you remember."

"Calm down, Lucius," Narcissa said in a soothing voice. Her gentle fingers came to rest on his shoulder. He didn't have
the heart to shrug them off. "I only meant that I was surprised. I just didn't think Severus had it in him to stick his wand
straight in my face and tinker with my mind."

Lucius sighed. "There's a lot about Severus we still don't know."

They had reached the rooms. Lucius mumbled the password and let them both in. His private rooms weren't as lavish
as those in the Manor certainly, but it was undeniably extravagant for any Hogwarts professor. A grand crystal chandelier
hung from the ceiling, a large table spanned the width of the dining room, and the bathroom had a fancy fountain bath
shower. Besides, Malfoy Manor wasn't exactly safe at the moment. After speaking, the two would join Hasan and Draco at
Grimmauld Place where most of the Order was stored.

Narcissa sat down on the couch, face impassive, legs crossed. Lucius joined her after retrieving some wine from the
kitchen.

"Thank you," Narcissa said, taking a sip.

"You're welcome."

The two sat in silence for a moment, before Lucius spoke.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Narcissa asked. "It's not your fault somebody else l-loves you." Her voice cracked as she lowered
her head, brilliant golden hair falling before her face.

"'Cissa..."

He tried to wrap his arms around her, but she slipped out of his embrace.

"No, don't...I just need time to adjust. I feel incredibly...saddened and jealous all at once. Are you even straight? Bi? How
can you love me after being with him for so many years? I wonder if Hasan knew. All that time we lived with him. Didn't he
think we deserved to know? Hasan, our child?"

"Perhaps he wasn't quite sure how to approach the topic. I still don't know how to approach the topic. I love you, Narcissa.
I love you with all my heart, but sometimes I remember things I've forgotten and I'm positive I loved that person too. But I
love you both!" he hastened to reassure her. "They're just passing moments. You're forever, if you'll have me."

"Are-Are you just saying that?" Narcissa asked, tears dropping on her cheeks. "What happens when you remember?
When you get your memories back? What happens then?"

Lucius took her hands in his and stared deep into her eyes. "We'll figure it out together."

.oOo.

It took a while to convince Madam Pomfrey to release them, but Fred and George eventually wore her down with an
extremely sincere display of eyelash batting. In all honesty, she was just too tired to resist. It had been a long night-for
everyone. First of course she knew about the Department of Mysteries, but little by little the story came out about the
mysterious man who dashed through the veil to his death, and a little later somebody said the name, "Castell." She was
a little preoccupied at the time, attending to her colleagues' injuries, but even she knew that Hasan had to be suffering.

When the rest of the Order emerged from the floo, that was when the real chaos began. Poppy had immediately led
Neville over to one of the empty beds and sat him down with a flask of Dreamless Sleep potion to see him through the
night.

Now, in the morning, when broad daylight struck the curtains with a cruel optimism, Poppy was ready to collapse on her
feet.
"Fine, you can leave, but don't go seeking trouble, now! I have had enough to be going on with," she said crankily.

Draco and Luna didn't need to be told twice. Nodding stoically under the matron's piercing eyes, they took their leave
before darting down the corridor, least she change her mind. Fred and George remained behind for Neville was
beginning to thrash…

"Where's Hasan?" Draco asked as they walked nowhere in particular.

"Severus took him," Luna replied dreamily.

Draco nodded, quiet.

He had never seen Altair Castell before last night. And now he never would again. How must Hasan be feeling, he
wondered. After that awful scream last night and now…

They stopped walking.

"In here," Luna said, tugging him by the arm into the room. It took a second for Draco to realize they were in the girls'
bathroom, Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom to be sure. But Myrtle wasn't there.

"What are we-?" Draco began, then stopped as Luna pulled from her inner robes, practically unscathed, the prophecy for
which they had gone down to the Department of Mysteries. "That's-!"

"Yes."

Luna held the orb out with her open palms as if in supplication, watching the milky white substance morph within the
little world.

"To smash or not to smash. That is the question," Luna murmured to herself.

"The hall of prophecy didn't seem to be missing any prophecies so I assume we don't need to-"

SMASH!

"..."

From the tiled floor of the bathroom, where the glass had shattered into perfectly even diamond shapes, arose a pearly
white figure of a tall, grand lady. She had long dark curly hair which fell to her waist, and beautiful wide eyes which stared
off into the distance. Draco took in her opulent robes which were finely woven in intricate patterns down to the hems and
cuffs. Whoever this person was, she was of a high class or of a higher tier of seer. Probably the best there was…

"The one who knows the ways of half its kind reaches a crossroads

Going left the half-kind discovers half-minds.

Returning right, half-love can restore what pain has taken

A half-path forms at midnight on the seventh moon.

Yet immob ile, many halves fail to reach a whole.

The one...who knows...reaches a crossroads."

Her voice was not melodious as one would expect, but powerful and grating in a way that made Draco's skin crawl as if
his very arm hair had to stand at attention.

"That's it!" Luna cried happily, "The crossroads, it all makes sense!"

Draco was still in a stupor as Luna chatted on enthusiastically. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, like a
breath he could not take or an itch he could not find.

"I'm the one who knows the ways of humans and horses and I've been to the crossroads," Luna was saying, "And the
seventh moon...yes, yes, July 7th! That was yesterday, the magic number seven!"

"Luna, I don't understand," Draco sighed, "There were too many 'halves' in that prophecy."

"Don't you see, silly? I'm an animagus, so I'm half human and half horse. There's a place in the forbidden forest where-"
Then Luna froze and her silver eyes widened. "The crossroads is where Shadow and Halo can meet. It's a forbidden
love story, between a thestral and a unicorn, you know. They've tried to meet several times and were thwarted more often
than not, that's the 'halves failing to reach the whole' part. But how to use this...how to use this…"

"Use what?"

"The unistral, Draco! Half thestral and half unicorn, the two halves that will cure Neville's parents! It has to use blood I
know, but..."

In that moment, something clicked. It was the word blood that did it. From his own robes he produced the shrunken
scroll from Slytherin's study and wordlessly returned it to its normal proportions. Luna was watching him curiously, long
lashes fluttering over her soft eyes, but she was tired, and the bags beneath her eyes were like dark pits carved in
graveyards.

Their eyes pointedly ignored the rolling heads that were chomped on for eternity, and the dementor supernova, instead
almost automatically seeking out the portion of the scroll they needed.

"Here, read this," Draco said. "It's missing a picture but I think that's what you want, isn't it?"

Luna hummed, taking the offered scroll, as she read aloud, "This potion can only be brewed by a competent Potions
Master. I have found that it reverses the effects of even the most severe cruciatus induced injuries; however, the brewer
should be warned that the animal cannot be obtained by forced breeding but only by natural occurrence. Love in other
words. Blood added of the animal depicted will produce divine results, because blood cannot be obtained by halves."

"By halves, that's what made me think of this. I know it must have some use to us! Now if only we knew what bloody
animal was depicted in this non-existent picture!" Draco growled, kicking the bathroom sink and promptly cradling his
foot. "Ow!"

"Draco?" Luna called softly.

"What?" Draco asked, "We come this far and we're defeated by what? Horribly preserved ink-drawings?"

"But Draco...there's something here."

Draco's blood ran cold.

"What do you mean?" he asked, coming over. She pointed. "There's nothing there," he said, but his voice wobbled.

"It's a unistral, Draco. It has the skeletal form of the thestral, but with a horn on its head...you...you really can't see it, can
you?"

Draco took a deep breath. He wasn't insane, he wasn't. "How come you can see it and I can't?"

Luna turned her large doe eyes on him. "Perhaps because I have stared Death in the face and did not turn. I suppose
the unistral must also be visible only to those who have seen someone die."

This made Draco frown. "What about Al-Altair Castell, Hasan's father."

"What about him?" Luna asked, dreamily, rolling the scroll back up.

"We saw him die. We saw him together, didn't we? The Dark Lord hit him in the back with the killing curse and then he
fell through the Veil."

"Did he really?" Luna asked lightly.

"What do you mean, did he really? He did! I saw him!"

"You saw what you wanted to see," Luna said. "And that's why you can't see this unistral. You can't just think you saw
something, you had to have seen it."

"Are you saying that Altair's not dead?" Draco asked, indignant for being doubted and hopeful for Hasan all at once.

"Oh no, he's dead. Perfectly dead."

"Then what?"
"But he did not die here, no. He died before we were born."

Draco felt the chill, stronger this time, freeze his blood.

"We saw him though," he protested weakly.

"Perhaps we did," Luna replied. "But then again, we did not see him die."

There was a soft rumbling behind them, coming from the sinks...Draco didn't turn around, he didn't need to. For the voice
was familiar and never heard before, with an undercurrent of hissing.

"I did."

Suddenly, Draco and Luna turned towards the voice and stopped. A woman with golden hair stood before them, if one
could call resting on a snake's tail 'standing'. Her breasts were covered by her hair, (thank Merlin, thought Draco), and
her skin was porcelain white.

"I am Melusine," she said, a soft hissing accompanying every 's'. "Cassandra's prophecy had roused me from my
slumber and I knew it was time to take His potion."

Draco's jaw was on the floor. Melusine? That Melusine?

"Whose potion?" Luna wondered politely.

"Altair's, of course. It was in the deal." Melusine smiled, displaying a row of pointy teeth. "Do you like it? This is just one of
my three forms, although to be honest I never expected to ever take the form of a snake. I suppose I did get used to it,
towards the end." She was seemingly lost in memory before adding. "I can't stay in this form long. Soon I will turn back
into a snake and then I'll have but one more chance to try my other form. But I had to speak with you first about Hasan. I
haven't much time. They need to return to their rightful owner or else Hasan will be lost to us forever. Already I can feel his
psyche breaking...please. Help my darling."

And with that she began to shrink back to her normal giant snake size and slither back into the chamber.

Draco and Luna, still in shock, numbly exited the bathroom, just in time for Myrtle to rise out of the toilet…

.oOo.

Narcissa and Lucius remained in that position for a long time. Narcissa breathing softly as she stroked Lucius' back,
and Lucius having a small bout of hiccups. No way was he going to admit he was having small gasps between crying,
as if he were drowning, as if, as if he needed to breathe like any other ordinary person. Malfoys hiccupped. They didn't
have sobbing spasms.

Finally, it was time to get up. They felt it in their bones, the moment when, despite any desire to stay put, there was no
choice but to rise.

"Are you going to be okay?" Narcissa asked softly.

"Yes. Draco needs us. Hasan needs us." Lucius did a silent drying spell on his face, wanting the illusion of dignity even
though she knew he had been crying.

Her face was drawn in concern.

"I asked if you were okay. I care about I care about you, Lord Lucius Malfoy. I love you and I want us to be okay. I want you
to be able to heal, not sweep this under the rug. That's why..."

He turned to face her. "That's why what?" he echoed, his face blank.

"I-I think we need to go back to Altair's house. I think you need to say your goodbyes, and maybe he left something there
for you or for Hasan or for Severus? You know, that man always left clues. Always a clever one...that one. How about it?"

The two were so still that an onlooker would have suspected them to be statues, carved of the same stone. Monolithic. It
took forever for him to sort out his thoughts. On one hand, it was a brilliant idea. Altair was a brilliant man after all and the
chances that he had left some clues as to what to do with Hasan's memories was pretty high. On the other, more
obvious, hand, the idea was a disaster waiting to happen. The Dark Lord was now aware that Altair had been alive the
last few years, which consequently meant he had his minions searching for Altair's residence. All Lucius had to do was
set foot and France and –BOOM!- he'd be at the Dark Lord's mercy once again. And besides the imminent danger, the
emotion taxation...could he really do it? Even if it meant bringing back some memento or final words for Hasan? or for
himself?...

"Okay," Lucius whispered.

.oOo.

Lucius envisioned the forest in his mind. The one that hid the secret path from muggles who might accidently stumble
across the barmy old man. Even now, the thought fell flat. Who was he kidding? The eccentric enigma had wormed his
way into Lucius' heart once more, galvanized by his sudden death. Maybe not in the way that they were once connected,
heart-to-heart by soul strung strings, but together enough. Nodding to Narcissa, he grasped her arm to side-along
apparate. They were going to France.

The familiar tug behind his navel pulled him through across the la Manche, the feeling altogether unsettling. When the
world stopped spinning he glanced up at his wife and pursed his lips. Perhaps this was a bad idea?

Narcissa gave him a firm nod. "Let's go."

They passed a little local tavern called La Lune d'Or which was full of rowdy youth. A fight was going on by the sound of
breaking glasses, but this was all background music to Lucius' dread. The two silent figures, tall and bright with regal
grace, walked to the edge of the forest. With a deep breath, they took a step forward.

The forest did not shrink back like it had before, a veil of mist and fog. A delusion for muggles which was easily swept
away by a wizard's presence. Instead, Lucius could touch his palm to the tree, and feel the bark, and the moistness of
the moss.

"What is it?" Narcissa asked, taking a step forward.

"The forest. It's real."

His voice was a stale note in the warm summer air, a dull clang against the bar brawlers. Narcissa stretched out her
arm which glowed faintly in the moonlight and touched her fingers to the tree. At first nothing happened, but then, as if the
forest recognized her specific touch, the flaps of mushroom growth around the old oak fell flat against the bark. The
leaves receded into the trees, the branches into branches, the trees into the ground.

"Eden sank to grief," Narcissa quoted airily, taking her husband's hand and leading him through the now quite visible
path.

Small ivy vines lined the road with long white trunks of beech trees like naked bodies running along the sides. The path
wasn't any longer than before, nor was it altogether that different from what he remembered, but it seemed that this time,
more than the others that the forest was beckoning him in, and that perhaps there was symbolism in Narcissa leading
him, even now, down this path. Somehow, deep within his heart of hearts, Lucius knew that Altair keyed Narcissa to the
wards because she was his future. She was the one who had to accept his past with Altair and allow him to accept it as
well.

The thought did not comfort Lucius in the least. It made him feel transparent and more than a little cared for by a
guardian angel named Altair.

Narcissa entered the clearing, where used to reside a grandiose Estate full of rosebushes and fountains, grand
windows with sills and lovely grand oak doors with heavy iron knobs.

And Narcissa entered the clearing with Lucius in tow, and stopped. And the two souls stared upon the clearing. And the
clearing was there. As if the clearing was never not there. And time stood still...

Lucius' hand slipped from his wife's gentle fingers. His palm slapped against his traveling cloak, against his thigh.
Slowly, in the silence, Lucius bent down, as if compelled by some unknowable force, to pay homage to the sight of his
former...lover? Eyes closed, he felt his heart drop within him. Tea in summer, eh? The bastard had never intended to stay
until the summer. And smiling, Altair had left him, thinking that tea in summer would perhaps be nice. Left him...

Narcissa watched as her husband sunk to his knees and stilled. How was she supposed to feel? Here, at this sacred
location? There was no manual for such a circumstance. So she did what she could. She bent beside him, and rubbed
his back like she had all afternoon, and whispered little comforts in his ears. Comforts she hoped she too could believe
in, because it was too cruel not to. Maybe Altair thought that this was a touching gesture, that perhaps leaving this small
clearing for the wildlife was a tribute to some stupid prancing deer-nature-fairy-god, but it just seemed heartless. No
trace. Altair fucking entered their lives, fucked with them, and left, as if nothing ever mattered. As if the world had existed
without Altair's name or face or soul. Was he ever really here? No record of him, no one even remembered him, and
Narcissa certainly wasn't sure that Severus really did eliminate any supposedly valuable memories of him.

Life would have been so much easier without Altair. But then, she reflected, as her husband sat there, it would not have
been their lives, would it? The odd mixture of jealousy, from watching her husband mourn another lover, and supreme
sadness overtook her. Like a lady befit of the title of Malfoy, she cast Orchideous, plucked the flowers from the tip of her
wand, and set them down upon the grass. Then, in true funeral fashion, it began to rain. Was it all just a dream? she
asked herself as she stared at the small clearing. But that was an insult wrapped in a question. To suppose it never
happened would be a disservice to her husband. Of course it happened.

.oOo.

Severus walked down to the infirmary, grumbling as just moments before the tiny black owl, Raven, had attacked his
meticulously arranged hair to drop a cage in his hands. And not just any cage, the tiny bird was carrying with probably all
the strength in its little body a bloody fucking snake cage. With a snake in it. There was no note this time, although really
how could dead men write notes? Snape scoffed, but took the snake cage anyway. The medium sized serpent leaned
against the bars of its confinement to sniff the air closest to the Potions Master. Liking that he smelled of her hatchling,
she turned from the puke green (to express her disgust of owl post) to a pretty pink with blue accents on her pale
underbelly.

Snape would have rolled his eyes if he didn't understand the gravity of the situation. This was Tina, Altair's pet and most
likely Hasan's only inheritance. And now, it was in Snape's own hands. Severus fully untied the cage from Raven's talon,
causing the little bird to ruffle its feathers and fly off to the owlrey supposedly. This left Severus with the color changing
snake and a tricky situation. How in Salazar's name was he to convince Poppy to let this, this thing, into a room of her
sick patients?

Sighing, as he was already at the entrance to Poppy's domain, Severus opened the door. Well, hell with Poppy' nerves.
Severus was also tired.

Entering the infirmary, Severus observed without looking too interested, or Merlin forbid concerned, Minerva reclining in
one of the hospital beds, vials of pain potions by her bed. He had heard from Lucius that she had been hit by Macnair's
cruciatus. At her age, Severus was surprised that she was well enough right now to sit up with a book and not in a
magically induced coma. Two beds down, he saw Neville fast asleep, an empty blue vial next to him to indicate some
sort of soothing draught. Severus had more precise labels in the glass, but he didn't want to look too concerned here,
which would certainly happen if he went over by that damnable brat's bedside and investigated his potions.

Poppy's voice floated to him above a private divider. "Okay now, Mr. C-Castell. You are physically fine to go, however, I
must ask you to seek me out if you need anything. Anything, even if just to chat."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." The divider was pushed aside. "I am sure you are a very capable witch."

The cool voice made Severus stiffen. It was Hasan's voice from a year ago, the dead logical one which held no room for
compassion or humor or love. Hasan emerged from behind the divider, eyes widening as he took in Severus' burden.

:My baby,: Tina hissed. :Oh! My poor baby!:

:Tina!: he exclaimed, but then he remembered how horribly betrayed he felt at Altair and his mood was desiccated.

Meanwhile, Severus took in Hasan's changed appearance. Once again, the boy was donning the Castell brown hair,
long enough to just brush his chin, giving him an elfin appearance, while his large almond eyes were back to jade. Pale,
dull jade that was so far removed from Lily's emerald that Severus forgot that color they were just days before. So this is
it, Severus thought to himself as Hasan hissed away at the snake. This is it, this is the boy-who-lived who has lost his
parents twice. Numbly, Severus handed the snake cage over to the boy and lead him out. He almost didn't catch the
words Poppy was shouting at him.

"Take good care of him, Severus. Some wounds even healers can't heal."

.oOo.

Severus led a despondent Hasan Castell to his office where he intended them to floo to Grimmauld Place. Hasan was a
ragdoll for all he acted, except when he hissed out a few lines to Tina and the damnable snake hissed back. Even
without Hasan acting like his...usual...weird self, Severus would have been tired anyway. Most people tended to forget
that he did a good bulk of the fighting down in the Department of Mysteries, preferring to highlight the efforts of Minerva or
Albus instead. Not that they were completely useless, but a little glory for the dungeon bat wouldn't go amiss now and
then. Perhaps? No, that was foolish. Slytherins were background creatures. They took care of their own. Like now, as
Hasan stared glassy eyed at his fireplace.

With a sigh, Severus began, "Alright Hasan, we'll both be staying at Grimmauld Place for the foreseeable future. Due to
the heightened security measures that have taken place there, we will be sharing board with most of the Weasleys, Mr.
Longbottom, Augusta, Draco, Lucius, Narcissa, Miss Granger, and some of the Order."

The Order? Oh right, the Order of the Phoenix that Lucius and Narcissa had joined as if Draco and Hasan would never
catch on.

"Okay."

"Do you have any questions?"

"No."

"Then let's go."

When Hasan and Severus emerged, soot covered, out of the fireplace, it was already dark and no one was there to greet
them. Severus was dusting off himself as Tina coughed when the handle of the front door turned creakily. Slightly tired, it
took them a moment to react, drawing out their wands, but it was half-hearted. Anyone from the Order had the address,
and Sirius and Remus (as it was their house) could hardly be expected to not use the front door from time to time. Before
they could process much else, Lucius stepped in beside Narcissa, both dripping wet and looking pitifully like two
drenched doves.

"Severus-" Lucius exclaimed, sounding more surprised than was strictly appropriate for a man who knew all.

"Lucius, Narcissa." Snape nodded. He took in their sopping wet clothes, knowing full well that they could have performed
a drying spell, or even a proactive water repellant charm, but didn't.

"Is that-?" Lucius asked, gesturing to the snake.

Snape nodded.

Then, as if rousing herself from her daze, Narcissa came forward and wrapped Hasan up in her arms. No matter how
Hasan looked, as a Potter or a Castell, he was still her child, the brother to her son.

"Oh Hasan, I am so so sorry...I love you..."

Her arms enveloped the boy, but he was stone still, just taking it unwaveringly. Lucius was dead on his feet, and Severus
wasn't far behind.

"Okay, let's get you up to bed," Severus told him. "You will be sharing a bedroom with Draco." The boy nodded as Severus
led him up the stairs. Dreamlike, that's how the day had been, dreamlike.

Lucius and Narcissa followed the two up the creaky steps, Lucius unable to bear even glancing through to the room with
the family tree. Knowing what he'd find there, who he would see. And they followed like that, a funeral procession as the
rain fell down upon the house.

.oOo.

Tina wrinkled her little serpent nose at the old house smell of Grimmauld Place. Altair had never brought her
here...actually, Altair hadn't really brought her anywhere, but that was beside the point.

:Hasan...Hasan...: Tina hissed softly.

The jade-eyed boy set her gently down on his bed (freed from her cage which was on the floor). The other bed held a
snoring Draco Malfoy and somewhere down the hall, he hoped that Luna was sleeping peacefully as well.

:I...: his voice broke.

:He loved you, you know. Altair...no, really, he did.:

:How can you say that?: Hasan started stripping, unclasping his robes, undoing the buttons, unlacing his shoes. :He left
me, us. He took those damned horcruxes and left.: The fire was out of him. He was done, extinguished, undone.
:No, he didn't leave you entirely alone without help. He left instructions for the memories, didn't he? And the horcruxes he
hunted just for you. And...he tried to, you know...:

:Tried what?: Hasan demanded.

:That day, in the summer, remember? It was a while ago, but you woke up with a headache, remember? It was from
Altair, and it was when you asked me that following morning if I had seen anything during the night, and of course it was
just passed midnight, so what could I say?: The words flowed freely from her mouth now as the memories came back,
clearer, surging forth like a great wave.

:What did he do?: Hasan cried, coming face to face with his childhood friend. :WHAT?:

:He tried to destroy the horcrux inside of you. He saw the red flakes in your aura and realized they were from the Dark
Lord. He tried, Hasan, he really did. But he couldn't save you. Only you can rid the world of Voldemort. That's why he
couldn't succeed, but he tried.:

Hasan buried his head in his hands, fiercely ignoring the fact that the wet hotness on his face was his tears that came
from his eyes, that deep down he didn't want to hate Altair, his father. His dad. That...person who loved him more than the
world could know or hope to know. Even with the knowledge that Voldemort's soul shard was engirthed by his soul, a
sneaking suspicion that had haunted his subconscious since the very first manipulated nightmares, his heart felt lighter
than it had in ages.

Perhaps he did care. Hasan thought as he drifted off to sleep. And Tina wrapped around him and licked his cheek,
mourning silently for her hatchling who had lost his father.

A/N- Sorry, things got a little depressing there. This story is wrapping up with only six more updates...Thank you so
much for reviewing, you wonderful readers, you!

I hope you will stay with me until the end. It shouldn't be long now, not at all...

Anyway, just wanted to advertise my other story on here for a second: When Innocence Sleeps. Not my usual, but
then, seeing as I've only written one decent HP thing, what is my usual? I will be updating this story on AO3 since it
involves aspects of noncon, though no rape depicted or anything graphic really. But I still wanted it off this site, so
please, go check out When Innocence Sleeps on AO3!

(Summary: Tom and Harry share thoughts. Dumbledore's evil. Voldemort's evil. Severus has struggles. TR/HP. For the
actual summary see AO3.)

Thanks to:

DarkRavie, pinks99, guest, Araytigre, Original And Easy To Pronounce, EndlessChains, EnchantedUnicorn, guest,
guest, Nagilover4ever, JPElles, guest, Serpent91, and medward.

YOU GUYS DESERVE TEN THOUSAND CHOCOLATE FROGS AND A FOUNTAIN OF BUTTERBEER. Thank you.
*Chapter 46*: No Masters or Kings
A/N- It's 8.8.16! The three year anniversary of this fic! WOOHOO! Here's a gift to celebrate! ALSO, YAY 1000 REVIEWS.
(Syncogon deserves a chocolate frog.) Even though I've hit my personal goal, I still want to hear from all of you!

PLEASE ENJOY!

"No Masters or Kings

When the Ritual begins

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin"

-Take Me To Church by Hozier

Return of Emerald

Chapter 46: No Masters or Kings

The next morning was accompanied by the loveliest smell of blueberry and lemon scones wafting throughout the house
from the kitchen. Let it never be said that Narcissa Malfoy didn't know how to cook.

With a twirl of her apron, the Malfoy Lady had plates heaped high of the breakfast goodies along with a piping hot kettle of
water for tea. Lucius, naturally, was still asleep.

Little by little, the wonderful smell of fresh baked goods lured the sleepy house into action. Even if scones weren't the
favoured food, the smell was undeniably tempting. Soon, Draco, sleepy eyed and stumbling, had come down the stairs
in his navy blue robes, followed by Severus, Luna, and the Weasley twins.

"These smell absolutely amazing, Narcissa. Thank you," Severus said pointedly as the Weasleys helped themselves.

"Really-"

"-Great!"

Fred and George chorused, grabbing plates and brazenly filling them.

Draco rolled his eyes. Typical Weasleys, even if they were the cool ones.

"Draco?" Luna whispered, her nonchalant question belied by her ruthless elbowing of his side.

"What?" Draco asked.

"The potion," she said, drawing out the word.

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "Miss Lovegood, Draco? Is there something you forgot to mention?"

Narcissa was staring at her son now out of the corner of her eye. She trusted Draco to do the right thing-that wasn't the
issue here- she was just curious. Did Draco want to pursue potions like his godfather after all?

"Uncle Sev, you remember the Chamber of Secrets, don't you?" Draco began tentatively. "Well, after Madam Pomfrey
released us-"

"After we convinced her to free you, you mean!" Fred and George piped up.

"-Luna and I thought of a way to reverse the effects of severe cruciatus."

"And pray tell, how did you do that?" Severus asked, exchanging a concerned glance over their heads with Narcissa,
wondering if he should be concerned about where this story would take them.

"Well you see, professor," Luna said gallantly, "Hasan and Draco had gone down to the Chamber of Secrets before and
had discovered this really pretty scroll. It had been part of Salazar's private study in fact-"
Severus' jaw was hanging open. "There's more in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"A whole library!" Luna grinned, "Hasan's been keeping his shape-shifting pet there all year!"

"Anyway," Draco cut in, trying to return to the conversation to its former purpose. "We were wondering if you'd consider the
merit of adding Unistral blood to the potion Hasan and I developed for the potions project. We tried to make a similar
cruciatus nullifying potion, but as you've already found the potency of it isn't quite enough or up to par with anything...you
might have used."

The twins watched anxiously as the feared Potions Master thought this over. They might not have had any hand in this
solution, but they felt proud of their friends all the same.

"Unistral?" Severus finally asked lightly. "Am I to take it that a hybrid of a unicorn and a thestral has been created?"

"Yes, sir!" Luna beamed.

Severus opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Thestral blood was a relatively new material Potions Masters were
beginning to discover due to the long held belief that thestrals were saturated in dark magic and the consequent taboo of
being associated with the dead. Unicorn blood on the other hand was already intensively studied as unicorns were
somehow purer despite the hellish curse that befell one that reaped a unicorn's blood without consent. But a unistral?
Surely it couldn't have been the first time in the wizarding world that magical creatures have mated. (Centaurs anyone?)
And maybe in Salazar's time, when 'dark magic' wasn't called such by the infant Ministry of Magic, the properties of
thestrals were more closely observed. The knowledge even possibly preserved beneath the very school Severus called
his home, beneath Hogwarts!

Severus cleared his throat.

"I believe the idea has merit," Severus said slowly in his professorial tone though inside he was giddy at the possibility.
"But I would have to look at the original document first before conducting any experiments."

"There's a lab downstairs," Remus supplied helpfully from the doorway. Beside him was Neville, scone in mouth. (How
long had they been there? How long had he been lost in thought?)

"I'll help," came a confident voice from the stairwell.

Turning, Severus met the brilliant emerald eyes of Hasan Castell and the messy black hair of James Potter. Snape
swallowed down his surprise. To the untrained eye it seemed as if the boy were perfectly alright. No bags beneath the
eyes, no red nose...nothing. The change was...eerily unsettling.

"We're running out of time. Today is day two," Hasan said gently, looking pointedly at Neville who was now staring at his
feet.

"Day two?" Remus echoed before catching on. How could he forget Sirius' outburst that the St. Mungo's staff could only
give Frank and Alice three days?

"We just need to figure out how to obtain the blood, Luna? The rest is on the scroll."

Luna nodded in the affirmative. "I'll be happy to collect the blood!"

"I'll go with you," Remus volunteered. "I don't feel safe letting you go alone and I do know the grounds better than most."
The werewolf spared an easy side grin with Severus, but the Potions Master was too busy in his own mind to return any
such foolish gestures of friendship.

"How do you know it will even work?" Neville sniffed in the corner. "How dare you even suggest they can be s-saved when
the nurse said, she said they c-can't. They're dead. DEAD. And you can't bring the dead back to life..."

Severus pursed his lips, wondering too if the proposal of such a feat was just a tad presumptuous and even callous in
light of their present audience, but then Hasan surprised him again. And Severus was so weak from shock he let
Narcissa pull up a chair for him to sit in.

"The reason we went to the Department of Mysteries that night was because there was another prophecy..."

Sweet Salazar, Severus thought.

.oOo.
Later that day, the smell of raisin bread greeted the Order members as they filed into the ancient house of Black. The
smell, of course, was strategically put there by Mrs. Weasley who could not "stand that god awful smell of that man's
potions!" In her defense, the entire house smelled like rotten eggs, except near the kitchen.

Tonks was inclined to cast an air freshening charm in the house, but Snape stopped her with a glare that said more or
less "if you had paid any attention at all to your potions textbook which you did no doubt open you would know how
dangerous it is to use air freshening charms near the site of the potions brewing."

Which was why the Order enlisted Molly Weasley to bake bread. That and buy lovely lavender scented candles which the
Headmaster heavily hinted he would enjoy having as some near future Christmas gifts.

Severus was the last to arrive to the meeting, busy as he was ordering Hasan to clean his cauldrons full of horribly
disfigured puss.

"Ah! Severus, just the man we were waiting for!" Albus cried happily. He was dressed in demure dark purple robes which
shone green at a certain angle, but was otherwise toning down his eccentricity.

The entire table stared at the Potions Master, eyes wide with curiosity, some with hope that made Snape's skin crawl.
How could they place hope in him after hearing a few rumors? Just so that they would feel justified after he failed to yell
and curse him for letting down the Order...

"Yes, Albus?" Severus asked archly. He was not going to make this easy for the man. Not after Severus had insisted he
keep this quiet and the blasted old coot went ahead and scheduled a full Order meeting to discuss his top secret news.

"We were wondering if you would share your new breakthrough potion with the rest of the Order."

With a long suffering sigh, Severus glanced down the table with an extra dose of disdain, making sure to make each
person feel quite inferior before he departed with his news. This was likely the only time he would get to feel somehow
compensated for the pain sure to follow. Doubly so if he were to fail.

"With the help of Draco Malfoy, Hasan Castell, and Luna Lovegood, I have made a potential breakthrough in how we treat
the cruciatus curse." Snape's lips curled at the end, showing his displeasure in any way he knew how.

"I don't understand," Kingsley confessed in his deep voice, "I thought we already had an extremely effective potion
against the effects of cruciatus, developed by yourself."

The table waited with baited breath.

"This potion is unique in that it is for severely damaged individuals suffering from long exposure to the curse and
consequently longer effects."

"The Longbottoms," Arthur breathed in wonder.

"Yes, the Longbottoms."

The table erupted into exchanged glances and loud mutterings.

"We have cured the Longbottoms!" Molly exclaimed loudly, bursting into tears.

"We have done it!"

"Oh Neville will be so happy!"

"But there is no guarantee." Augusta stood up at the end of the table, face set sternly into place. She locked eyes with
Severus' onyx ones across the table.

"No, there is no guarantee," Severus confirmed. "But after we have fine-tuned the recipe, we can test the potion tomorrow.
There is nothing to lose and everything to gain."

"I quite agree, Severus, my boy. I quite agree." Albus beamed at his Order, pleased that they were more accepting of
Severus by the day. All it had taken was an extremely unpleasant trip down the Department of Mysteries to get them to
see that Severus really was on their side.

Well, at least they knew, better late than never.

.oOo.
Lucius Malfoy took one look at the Quibbler and tossed a look to his wife.

"Did you see the paper this morning?" he queried nonchalantly, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace induced by
sleepy Order members taking their afternoon naps.

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "I did not."

In the kitchen with them (not including the ten extra loaves of raisin bread) were Remus and Sirius, eating said bread
with their tea. Severus was experimenting with the finicky miracle potion with Hasan and Draco as his extra hands. Luna
was also down in the potions lab, but she was reading a book and only answered random horse questions posed by
Severus every so often.

"What it is?" Narcissa asked.

"Here." Lucius slid the no-longer-a-rag-now-that-the-Malfoys-owned-part-of-it magazine across the table, preparing
himself for his wife's reaction.

Narcissa grasped the edge and gasped. On the cover was an image of Fudge in a hospital bed and the image beside
that was of a large, toad-faced woman dressed all in pink. While both pictures were wizard and therefore animated,
Fudge wasn't exactly very active while the ugly woman was grinning with wide, undignified teeth and gums. Then
Narcissa glanced at the headlines:

Exclusive: Minister of Magic Hospitalized

Death Eaters Strike Again!

by Rita Skeeter

Exclusive: Minister of Magic Dolores Umbridge

Girl Power takes on the Ministry

by Rita Skeeter

"Girl Power?" Narcissa scoffed, locking eyes with Lucius. "She's more of a toad than any human being."

Sirius glanced over at his cousin, and wasn't that weird, she was his cousin. "What are you looking at?" he asked
coming around the table. "Is that- No! It can't be!"

"Siri?" Lupin wondered. "Oh the Quibbler. I didn't realize it had come out today."

"This can't be happening," Sirius said. "Fudge is in St. Mungo's at this b itch is taking his place."

"I don't understand, who is it?" Lupin asked. "I've never seen her before."

"She's a Dark Lord sympathizer," Lucius answered. "She always hung on Fudge's coattails, sneaky, Slytherin. I
remember her applying for Defense Against the Dark Arts not too long ago for Fudge's latest Educational Upheaval
scheme. Luckily that did not pan out."

"Only because Fudge values your money more than he wants to bother Dumbledore," Narcissa put in.

"True," Lucius conceded with a small smile.

"She sounds like bad news," Remus commented.

"Just look at her face!" Sirius muttered. "As if you need any more proof, she was the one who insisted on having
dementors stationed outside of fucking Hogwarts!"

The adults' voices carried upstairs where Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione leant over the banister.

"I for one think it's amazing that a girl could ever become Minister of Magic!
Ginny cried petulantly. "What do the muggles call it? Feminism?"

"And we needed dementors to protect us from the mass murderer anyway," Ron butted in dumbly.

"Ronnie baby, you do know-"

"-that Sirius Black was the-"

"-supposed mass murderer, right?"

"Well, it was needed at the time!" Ron continued. "Besides, we wouldn't even have this situation if Fudge hadn't gotten
himself nabbed by Death Eaters. Hasan's escaped them how many times and he's just a little nothing."

"Ron, that's not fair!" Hermione protested.

"Yeah, whatever." Ron rolled his eyes.

"And Ginny, feminism isn't that women are always right, it's about looking at both sides equally in spite of gender."

"Maybe that's what your muggle parents taught you," Ginny said stubbornly, "but then why does the word itself say
feminism not equality? See? I can't believe you're not on board with this new Minister. She's got to be awesome. Did you
see her article on page six? She's has like a whole wardrobe of pink shoes and a million kittens. How can someone like
that be bad for us?"

"Isn't there a second in command who is supposed to take over if the Minister fails?" Hermione tried again.

"Yeah, Kingsley Shacklebolt is usually the one to fill in during times of war," Fred said, "but somehow that isn't what
happened."

"And this doesn't seem suspicious to you?" Hermione asked them bluntly.

Ron and Ginny just stared at her. "Why would it? So what, Fudge got hit. We're at war, Hermione. People die all the time. I
can't believe you don't agree with the Ministry's decision," Ginny screeched. "I bet it's because of Theodore, isn't it? You
want a man to become Minister, is that it?"

"No, that's not what I-"

"Well fine them, take your misogynistic Slytherin ideas and shove them up your slimy ASS!"

Just then, Arthur entered the hallway casting a shadow over his red haired daughter.

"Ginevra Weasley! How dare you insult another person based on house prejudice again! To your room young lady!"

Ron snickered as Ginny huffed.

"And you too, Ronald Weasley. I am ashamed to call you two my children." Arthur watched sternly as they plodded away
before turning back to the others. "Carry on," he smiled pleasantly, and continued down the steps.

.oOo.

"I wonder what all that racket is up there," Draco muttered absently as he towel dried one of the twenty ruined cauldrons.

"It's the nargles," Luna said dreamily. "They love the drama, but hate the heat outside."

Severus looked up from his stirring. "The bulk of the experimenting is done for today. I think you three deserve a break."

Draco set down his cleaning rag and smiled. "Let's go see what's up," he said excitedly, for he had heard some stern
yelling from the usually mellow Mr. Weasley. If there was anything the Mafloys loved better than money it was knowing
that they pummeled the Weasleys in every field.

Luna followed closely behind him, brushing her pretty blonde hair from her face. "Hasan, why don't you join us in a little
bit. I sense the professor has something to tell you."

Hasan froze in his movements to pack his potions journals to stare at Severus.

"What about?" he asked warily, though his eyes were bright and curious.

It took Snape a minute to shake off the superimposed image of the dull eyed boy of yesterday.

"You seem to be in an...extraordinarily good mood compared to yesterday," Severus began, evading the question.

Hasan nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?" Lopsided grin- there, Severus thought, that wasn't normal.
"Your father just died." Still that grin. "Committed suicide." Still grinning. "In front of you." Unwavering grin.

"What? Am I to mourn for him for the rest of my life?" Hasan asked perfectly logically. "He loved me, he raised me, tried to
take the horcrux from my mind actually, and then died. Pretty spectacular life if you ask me."

"...horcrux?" Severus asked startled.

"Oh yes, Severus, I'm one of the Dark Lord's horcruxes. Ironic, isn't it?" Hasan said with a feral grin. "Pensieve, orphan,
savior, and now this!"

"Hasan, calm down," Severus said, trying to infuse authority into his voice but coming off as simply even. His blood was
running cold and he didn't like the glint the boy had in his eyes. The boy was cracking, he realized, the boy's mind was
cracking. How could it not? The boy was listing reason after reason right in front of him.

"I am perfectly calm," Hasan remarked. "I thought that's what you had a problem with."

Severus walked around the lab table to stand in front of the boy. His hand gripped his wand harshly inside his cloak
sleeve. Blood still cold.

"Your mind has been under a tremendous load of stress from day one," Severus told him softly. "You have had to deal
with more things than any child should have to deal with. I am truly sorry."

Hasan's eyes flashed red for a second, but it was so brief that it was hard to even recall the moment.

"Is that why you sold out his parents, professor?" came Hasan's melodious voice, but it was tinged with poison velvet,
pulled along the tongue in a hiss. Hasan flicked his wrists and the basement door slammed shut and locked. "You
begged for her life didn't you?" Hasan continued to speak. "Pretty little muggle whore she was..."

Severus was shaking now, his Dark Mark suddenly flared to life as if the Dark Lord himself had just entered the room.
And fuck it all, his wand was upstairs, away from interfering with the temperamental potion. Putting on a brave face, for
weakness was death, Severus approached his opponent.

"She wasn't a muggle and she wasn't a whore," Severus stated.

"Still so sensitive are we?" Hasan laughed.

"You have been reduced to possessing bodies?" Severus sneered.

Hasan let out a low chuckle. "This isn't really possession, Severus. Merely...a channel? Made just for me. My soul
welcomes me inside his lovely body. Jealous?"

"You disgust me," Snape said, but didn't dare turn away. Another sign of weakness.

"His mind is breaking, Severus. I can feel it just by being close to it. What a coincidence that I can feel Lucius' magical
signature inside here as well!"

From outside the room, someone was banging on the door.

"You know, all this boy does is stay silent on everything that bothers him. Inside I can feel his every desire, every hidden
secret. You know that he resents this cure almost as much as he wants it? Why does Longb ottom get to have parents
and I don't, cry, cry, cry! Why can't I have a normal patronus, why a peacock? Oh that's right, my memories are from
Lucius b loody Malfoy! The boy really does seem moments from joining Fudge's psyche ward."

Snape lifted an eyebrow. Fudge was in a psyche ward? Somehow, it wasn't surprising.

"Which brings me to my next point. The Ministry has fallen, Severus. Hogwarts isn't far behind..." the words, so glorious to
the Severus of the past seemed tainted now coming from Hasan's mouth. "Come back to the fold, Severus. And you can
bring your little friends Lucius and Narcissa along too to join the fun. All you have to do is bring the boy to me. Come on,"
Hasan wrapped his arms around him, eyes scarlet, but somehow terrified. Deep inside, Hasan lurked, unable to save
himself. "Or-"

Suddenly, Severus found himself thrust up against the wall, head banging the ancient brick of the Black house, eyes
seeing stars. "We end this now."

The boy had his wand poking into the flesh of his neck, eyes terrified, arm shaking. Hasan was fighting back, but was it
enough to move the wand the few inches in either direction to avoid hitting some part of Severus?
Severus Snape had accepted death many many times before, but now just didn't seem right. Not now, not when things
were happening. Hasan needed him, didn't he? He shivered against the cool wall. He could feel the hold slipping, he
could move his wrists now, yes, he was no longer stuck completely to the wall!

"So weak, Severus, so weak. You couldn't save the mudblood and now, you can't save her son, AVADA KEDAVRA!"

But just at that last moment when the door burst open and Snape slid to the ground in shock, the wand had been
pointed inward, thrust awkwardly, not like a grand flourish of a war cry, but a boy's fumbling as he clung to life...and death.

Severus lunged forward to prevent Hasan's head from slapping the hard ground. The boy's eyes were open still, fading
from scarlet to emerald to dull jade green.

"Severus!"

"Hasan!"

"What is going on down here?"

But Severus ignored them all, placing his ear to Hasan's heart, knowing from the dull throbbing of the dark mark that it
was all going to be okay.

"He's alive. He just needs rest," Severus announced to the gathering crowd. He scooped Hasan up bridle style, the
people making a path for him to go through, and carried him to his bedroom he shared with Draco.

What the others didn't hear over the crash of the door, but what Severus did for it was a ghostlike wisp against his ear,
was an anguished cry of madness from a Dark Lord, "Noooooo!"

"What just happened?" Draco asked, floored.

"Hasan has just fought the Dark Lord and killed a seventh of him," Luna smiled. "I knew the professor could do it!"

To the Weasleys, Luna's words made about as much sense as her father's preferred choice of comic sans in the
Quibbler, but to the Malfoys, her words stilled their hearts and gave them hope.

Neville was silent as Snape rushed by him. He was visibly shaking even though he was nowhere near the battle. This
was why the Boy-Who-Lived was more than a title. It was a testament to Hasan's ability to survive, and for the first time,
Neville felt truly ashamed to have been part of Dumbledore's scheme to take that glory without permission. The feelings
of pity were gone from Neville Longbottom's heart, leaving but traces of deep shame and determination to side with
Hasan. To side with the side his parents had fought for and would hopefully fight for again.

.oOo.

It was evening when Hasan awoke, Tina licking at the air beside his head. If Severus found their dynamic even slightly
odd he didn't show it. He was just happy that Hasan was alive...alive and well, not well, but okay. Hasan was going to be
okay.

After the boy had fallen, Severus sent for the headmaster and Poppy to join them. Poppy to stabilize the boy. Albus for
obvious reasons.

"Voldemort was able to possess him?" Albus had asked anxiously. "How was he able to get past our warding?"

The two had moved to the library before heavily warding it. A piano laid off to the side and a fire burned low in the
fireplace. Severus had a glass of firewhiskey in hand while Albus just sucked on his damnable lemon drops.

"Did you know that Hasan Castell was a horcrux?" Severus asked, turning to face the headmaster fully.

Albus nearly choked on his lemondrop. Nearly.

"Hasan Castell, a horcrux?" Albus gasped, grabbing his chair. He had not thought of that and there was very little that
Albus Dumbledore did not think of anymore. It made sense though, didn't it? The night that Voldemort had killed the
Potters, some part of Voldemort had to have been pried from the whole...

"Not anymore," Severus replied calmly. "It was earlier today when I was working on the cruciatus cure when Hasan
began to show signs of deviating behavior. I had left my wand upstairs since the magical properties would have affected
the delicate potion, but I hadn't realized that Hasan still had his. Albus, I did very little. Voldemort had me pinned against
the wall at wandpoint before Hasan won the battle against him and turned the weapon on himself."

"My boy," Albus said, eyes twinkling. "I am so proud of both of you."

"Don't Albus, just don't," Snape said bitterly, taking a draught of whiskey. "Without Hasan we would have both died. I'm
still not sure how Hasan managed to survive that. Two Avada Kedavras in a lifetime?"

"That's why he's the Boy-Who-Lived," Dumbledore replied softly. "If I may enquire how you did determine it was the Dark
Lord's horcrux that died today and not Hasan's soul, how did you find out?"

"The Dark Lord cried at the end, and then the Dark Mark faded," Severus said, pulling back his sleeve to reveal the
barely-there tattoo.

Albus barely afforded it a glance. He knew how self-conscious Severus was about what they both probably viewed as the
greatest regret of his life and chose to not stare as others would have.

"You heard about Umbridge then?" Albus asked presently.

"Yes, and about Fudge too." Snape's expression darkened. "The Dark Lord is growing bolder. He intends to take
Hogwarts next and soon."

"Fudge is sharing a psyche ward with the Longbottoms," Albus said, surprising his companion. "It was published for
obvious reasons, but the spell work was very much the same, except that it wasn't just the cruciatus. I fear his eyes have
been pecked out and his fingers amputated." Severus winced despite himself. He knew a bottle of skele-grow and flesh-
grow would sprout those babies back in order, but he could envision all too clearly how the Dark Lord ordered the eyes to
be scooped out with razors, spoons, or claws. Fenrir Greyback was a particular favorite.

"Perhaps this potion will cure him."

"Or perhaps not."

"It seems as though you'd rather I not even try," Severus hedged.

Albus sighed, "It's not that. It's just the current political climate. The spotlight is on Fudge and Umbridge right now.
Everybody knows about this. Fudge is out of the ring, so to speak, to cure him would just place a target on his back for
the real kill. He is safer where he is now."

Snape nodded, conceding his point albeit reluctantly.

"Very well then. I just ask that you be careful. First the Ministry, then Hogwarts."

"Fudge then Dumbledore, you mean," Albus smiled ruefully.

"I wish it weren't," Snape said. Oh, if only.

But that was an hour ago. Poppy had left after a few minutes, declaring Hasan fit to function, but looking quite sorrowfully
as she was told she was no longer required and that Severus would take care of him. She was needed elsewhere, after
all, as the Longbottom guard and approver of all medications. As a trained mediwitch, she knew exactly which potions
ingredients the two patients could not have due to Severus' new concoction. The nurses never argued. The Longbottoms
were dead anyway, right? What was the point?

"Hasan?" Severus asked softly, sitting in a chair by his bedside. "Can you hear me?"

:Little one, your teacher is calling you,: Tina hissed by his ear.

"'m sore," Hasan murmured, eyes still shut. :Hurts, Tina. Hurts...:

"I have a potion for you, Hasan," Severus said, uncorking one of the many potions he had on hand for pain. "Just sit up
and I'll help you swallow it."

Slowly, the boy pulled himself into an upright position and opened his eyes for the first time. They were emerald again,
but without the crazed flare in them from before. The hair? Still Altair-brown. His mind is cracking, Voldemort had said,
and so it seemed to manifest itself in his phenotype. Snape decided to ignore this for now. One thing at a time.

Snape held the potions vial to his lips and Hasan had just the strength to swallow but he was weak...very weak, and
sleepy.
"I won?" Hasan asked after he had swallowed it all.

"Yes, you won," Snape answered. He looked down, embarrassed. "I should have done more to help you, but I admit I
was afraid to hurt you, more so than losing my own life."

"You...didn't have...your wand...on...you," Hasan wheezed.

"I can de wandless magic, Hasan. That wasn't the problem. It was my cowardice...I was in shock."

Severus looked at Tina as she began hissing things in earnest, apparently to him.

"She says...you shouldn't be...too hard on yourself," Hasan supplied, then looked away. "Did I...die?" he asked in a child's
voice.

"I don't know," Severus said truthfully. "But the Dark Lord's soul did. It left you immediately. I heard it," he shuddered, "But
you had a pulse and were breathing immediately after, so no. I don't think you died. Not the traditional way anyway."

Somehow this made Hasan feel better. No dying, you know?

"Thank you," Hasan whispered. "Tired...going to bed."

And without further ado, the boy fell asleep right where he was, head hitting the soft down-feather pillow with a sigh.

.oOo.

Severus tiptoed out of the room, careful to shut the door just so (even though he cast a silencing charm on the handle),
before descending the stairs.

"How is he?" Narcissa asked, lying on the couch with her son, Draco, fast asleep with his head on her lap.

"He's coping," Severus answered. Indeed, they were all coping.

"Where are you off to?" she asked, noting his traveling cloak and eyes that were more awake than asleep.

"Hogwarts."

"Why? You know Albus had increased the wards. Shouldn't you wait till morning and let him know you're coming?"

"It's just to my chambers. It'll be fine."

"But-"

"This can't afford to wait."

Severus and Narcissa's eyes met in the darkness. "Be back safely, Severus."

He nodded once, sharply. "I promise."

His chambers were dark and cold when he arrived by floo. The floo was private and even then he had warded the place
like nobody's business so that others on his to-kill list were obliterated on the spot. Pity that Voldemort had never needed
to floo to Snape's office when he needed him. No, the bastard just had to set his fucking arm on fire whenever he
needed something. Needy bugger.

Severus waved his hand to turn on all the candles and lights in the rooms. Slowly, he approached his desk, filled with
apprehension. This was what Lucius had said, right? What Altair had sent him so long ago?

He dismantled ward after ward, slowly with his wand, like a glowing web of spun gossamer glass. Finally, the desk
drawer was just a desk drawer. He reached for the handle and pulled.

Within the drawer was a single box.

Worn black leather. Silver rim. Just in case things don't go as planned, the top of the box said in Altair's script. Well guess
what, Altair, nothing goes as planned. Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. Fuck you! Severus thought. Hasan's mind was
slowing crumbling within itself and all Severus could do was sit back and watch as the boy's hair and eye colour
changed, knowing that inside, Lucius' memories were battling for dominance, that Hasan's soul had to adjust to not
being constricted by Voldemort's oppressive presence.
Altair better have a damned good backup plan, Severus growled inwardly, taking the box in hand and feeling its weight.
Then, as if compelled, he tried to open it, expecting it not to budge as before, and the lid came off. Slid off, easily as
butter.

Within the velvet lined box was a single gold key. For Gringott's.

A/N- WAAA! What a wild ride and I even WROTE the chapter! Haha, good times. Good times. How did you like it? Will
the Longbottoms be saved? What will Gringott's hold? Did the goblins know all along? Hasan's no longer a horcrux!
Yippee! And Merlin's balls... Umbridge is the Prime Minister.

Please Review!

Thanks to:

Syncogon (thanks for stealing #1000), DarkRavie, pinks99, ShikamaruNaraKibaNaruChunin, medward,

EndlessChains, Original And Easy To Pronounce (that was a brilliant visual), Serpent91, and Fireflyyy.
*Chapter 47*: With My Bones
A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! You guys rock!

"Brought a knife to hell and saw

What was left down there and more

Hide-and-seek'd for far too long

Kept my treasures with my bones

Lived for lies, lived for tales

Lived for good and hit the rails

Love you, boy, with what I know

Hid that love up with my bones"

- Ocean's Brawl by Coeur de Pirate

Return of Emerald

Chapter 47: With My Bones

Neville Longbottom woke up in the room he was sharing with Fred and George (the twins had a bunk bed) with the
distinct feeling of dread.

Today was day 3.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and quietly climbed out, not wanting to disturb his roommates this early. It
was too early for grins and smiles, after all. Today was the day his parents would be cured, or lost forever.

He slipped his cold toes into the dark red slippers before softly padding downstairs. The rain from last night was just
easing up, though he could still hear the raindrops splat on the rooftop.

Downstairs, the candles were lit. Raisin bread and leftover scones preserved by a stasis charm lay on the counter.
Everything was so perfectly ordinary.

He glimpsed a head of light golden hair on the couch in the living room. Next to the figure was a shorter one. Apparently
Narcissa and Draco had spent the night on the couch. He dared not turn on the rest of the lights. Pulling up a stool to the
window that overlooked the street, Neville stared. And sighed. And dreamed.

It was a few hours later when the rest of the house awoke. But it seemed that in no time at all, everyone was showered
and dressed, bright-eyed and ready to cure some Longbottom brains! Their optimism made Neville queasy, but what
could he do? Inside, he was also excited, but they didn't have memories like he did. They came in at the very conclusion,
a veritable deus ex machina to save the day. And if they failed, they failed, so what. It wasn't like Alice and Frank were their
parents.

Hasan was tired. Too tired to do anything really, but everyone was to go on a Longbottom trip, so naturally, Hasan had to
come too. For the sake of protection and all. Though in Hasan's humble opinion, he thought he was quite safe here,
thank you very much. And did everyone have to go to St. Mungo's? That was like placing a target on the hospital's back,
but what did he know? He was just the bloody Boy-Who-Lived.

Luna approached Hasan with a small roll of raisin bread, light smile on her face.

"Today is the day," she said happily. "Today is the day for new beginnings."

Hasan took the bread from her and split it. He gave half of it back. They nibbled on it a bit.

"Is everyone ready?" Molly asked sharply, getting ready to exit the building. Everyone nodded, except for Severus who was
too tired to do anything of the sort. "Then off we go!"
Sirius and Remus were exempt from the day's outing because of some top secret werewolf meeting happening that
night. And Augusta Longbottom was off at Hogwarts, doing Poppy's usual duties as the mediwitch was watching over
her children. But other than that, the residents of Grimmauld Place were in full attendance at St. Mungo's. Arthur kept a
firm watch over Ginny and Ron who were 'grounded' from any fun, while Narcissa and Lucius took up the rear, making
sure that none of the many kids wandered off.

Draco and Hasan gradually fell into step beside Neville, while Luna was busy chattering away with the twins who were
more than happy to share her ideas about nargle breeding for their joke shop. Hermione kept to herself, perhaps the
only one besides Neville who truly felt the enormity of the situation.

"Excuse me, excuse me!" the woman at the front desk said as Arthur politely asked for fourteen visitors' passes. "We are
under tight security after admitted Mr. Fudge into the psyche ward yesterday. We can't just allow fourteen people to visit
his room!"

Arthur babbled his reasons, but the woman was unmoved.

"Molly?" he asked desperately, for he was not in the mood for fighting.

"How about I take the kids who don't want to go and we'll wait in the cafeteria for you, honey?"

Arthur nodded his assent. "Who wants to stay with Molly?" he asked.

Ginny and Ron swiftly stepped to the side, as did Hermione, Fred, and George who did not want to crowd the room
during what they saw as a personal invasion of privacy.

"Eight passes, please," Arthur repeated to the desk lady. The woman pursed her lips and nodded.

"Go on through."

Each pass magically appeared on their shirts, a new installment due to Fudge's presence there.

"We must administer the potion to them one at a time so that we may observe any...unpleasant affects before affecting
them both," Severus explained quietly to their little group.

Neville had turned the adults out a while ago. As the elevator rose, up and up and up, his heart dropped down an extra
level.

"I'm sure you have made the potion exactly, Severus," Narcissa said smoothly.

"I agree," Lucius cut in, "You are the finest Potions Master in England for a reason."

Severus looked away and refused to answer.

Arthur cleared his throat. Ding! "We're here."

As the little troupe exited the magically enlarged elevator room, they ran into Madam Pomfrey who was told of their visit.

"They've stored Fudge in here too. Can you believe it?" she whispered conspiringly. "The guards just went on lunch
break, but they'll be back soon. Quick!"

Severus strode forward first, his long legs reaching the door long before Lucius' who hung back purposefully in case the
guards came back.

"Mr. Longbottom," Snape said suddenly, locking his onyx eyes with his. "Are you sure you want me to go through with
this? I hold no guarantee that this will work, none at all. In all, honestly, this could very well cause them immense
suffering before they die. The choice is yours."

Draco, Hasan, Narcissa, Luna, and Arthur stepped away from the two to give them privacy, perhaps...or maybe it was out
of fear. They didn't want to be part of this, not...not really. Slowly, Neville blinked. He gave one tight nod and then took a
step backwards.

Severus glanced back at their audience, wanting them to see his face, to know that he truly meant what he said. He didn't
want to hurt the Longbottoms, but it was a very likely possibility. He was tired of their distrust, or namely just the
Weasleys' distrust in general. He hoped that Arthur would be able to convey the story of his innocence when all was said
and done.
Turning back around, Severus took in the appearance of his subjects. Alice was pale and shaking. The magic having
drained out of her left her frail looking, more than any normal muggle woman surely. Her lips were pale too, no hint of
pink, and her hair was dry and grey. Drool trailed down her mouth and on her pillow...

Alice would be first.

Severus approaching the bed, vial in hand. One vial each, ingested orally, that's what the instructions had said. He slowly
took her head in his hand, pulled the hair away from her mouth, and tipped back the potion. Massaged her throat.

Neville was trembling behind him. Everyone could feel his vibrations in the air. Poppy came towards him and lead him to
a chair. It was no use for them to have another patient to treat today.

They waited, all with baited breaths. Looking for some sign of life, perhaps her rosy cheeks would blossom anew or her
eyes would look sharp and not glassy like a doll's.

Poppy cleared her throat. "The elevator just picked up the guards. We don't have much time."

Neville bit his lips and scrunched up his face in pain. He was crushed. His ribs were crushed to dust beneath a giant's
hand and he was nothing but ashes.

Severus' lips thinned. There was no choice. Reluctantly, he walked over to the other, to Frank Longbottom, whom he had
never truly known in the first Wizarding War, and took his head in his hand.

"Mr. Long- Neville," Severus amended, throat constricting. "The chances of this working on your father are dismal. If you
would rather I not-"

"Do it," Neville said firmly, wiping away his tears. The boy got up and stood beside Snape, looking upon the faces of his
parents. "I'd rather know we tried our very best to save them."

Snape nodded. He uncorked the vial and slowly poured the potion down Frank Longbottom's throat. The man was a
walking ghost, more or less. White, thin hair, lips shriveled like flattened gnarled dates. Severus was helping a corpse to
swallow.

And then, all of a sudden, Frank's eyes snapped open. His color returned briefly, light brown with wisps of white. Poppy
covered her mouth as she gasped. Arthur nearly whooped for joy!

Then-

"ARGH-!" Frank lunged out of the bed, attempted to, as his legs became entangled in the sheets, dull brown eyes locked
on his son. The body was fast, too fast. His hands had locked around Neville's throat before even Severus could react.

"Fa-Father-Father!" Neville cried as he was taken under. His vision was bleeding black.

"Oh my god! The man's possessed!" came a shout from the doorway. The guards had come back, half-sandwiches in
their hands.

"Stupefy! Stupefy!" Lucius shouted, slashing his wand in their direction. The two guards, hardly out of auror training,
crumpled to the ground in a pitiful pile of clothes. Narcissa quickly shut the doors leading to the psyche ward, locking
them shut with layers of charms.

Meanwhile, Neville had fallen to the floor, any attempts by Snape to subdue the body of Frank Longbottom were proving
unsuccessful. It seemed nothing short of an AK would stop the man, but that was exactly what Severus was hoping not
to do. Neville deserved more than that. As Neville began to fully lose consciousness (the boy could wait, Severus thought
blithely), Severus tore into Frank's mind and fought. He did not expect possession, and indeed, it was not, but what he
found shocked him perhaps more than it should have. Bellatrix Lestrange had visited on more than one occasion to this
particular ward under orders from Voldemort to make Frank strangle his son. She would have planted the ideas in Alice's
brain too had she not run out of time. Luckily, she had.

Quickly, Severus extracted himself from Frank's consciousness and now in full possession of the spell Bellatrix used,
quickly ended it with the specific countercurse. When he came to, Arthur was staring at him in awe.

"Neville, Neville, my son!" Frank was saying. Poppy helped Neville to stand as his balance was a little shaky from being
strangled recently.

"Dad? Dad?" Neville repeated.

"She came again. She made me!" he said. His eyes were bugging out of his head. He didn't know where to look. "I don't
have much time. The countercurse triggers another curse. See? It's already starting..." Frank unbuttoned the front of his
hospital gown to reveal dark veins that were creeping up his chest. They seemed to penetrate deep within the body,
shriveling the muscle and the organs wherever they touched.

"I love you, son. We both love you."

"Dad..." Neville took his father's head in his hands and kissed his cheeks. The tears were running freely down both of
their faces, but no one minded. Everyone looked away.

"Don't leave me," Neville pleaded. His father smiled, then his lips turned black. The curse had reached his brain.

Where once existed a soul, now remained only a charred, twisted body.

Severus cleared his throat.

"We need to leave."

"Wait!" that was Luna, coming forward from the group. She was staring, transfixed, at the other body.

"Hello Neville, my son..."

.oOo.

It worked, Severus was thinking over and over in his mind. It worked. It worked!

Alice Longbottom, in all her hospital robe glory, alighted from her hospital bed with the grace of a queen. She took in the
company in the room, but didn't seem to mind that three supposed Death Eaters were also with them.

"Come, it seems as if we need to leave." Alice took one fleeting glance at her husband and looked down. "I knew she
had come back and done something to him. I am sorry we could not save your father for you, Neville."

But Neville was a ball of mess in her arms and did not answer.

"Let's go..." Alice was around the age that Severus was, around, -ish. But she seemed so much wiser, recovering from a
coma than Severus could have ever been at the age her life stopped.

"Go on ahead," Severus called to the crowd. "Make sure they get out of here properly..."

Narcissa bowed to Alice in a show of respect. "May I?" Narcissa asked.

Alice nodded. With a swish of her wand, Alice was wearing a lovely blue dress with silver thread. No one could have
imagined what went on in the room. No one would suspect it was Alice Longbottom leaving today. Hasan stayed behind,
not wanting to see Neville with his nearly revived mother, knowing that this kind of fate was not for him.

They little crowd walked towards the elevator, leaving Hasan behind just outside the room.

"Take this, Hasan," Severus told him, just as he wheeled Fudge's bed out into the hallway.

"Incendio!" Hasan heard Snape shout from within the ward. The body burst into flames, then the curtains and the chairs.
Severus made sure to keep the fire to just one room, however, but he needed evidence of his potion to be gone, as well
as a false trail to mislead others from knowing what exactly had occurred.

Snape exited the ward as if he had not just set the room on fire.

"Let us go, Hasan," Severus said, placing his hand comfortingly on the boy's shoulder and steering him towards the
elevator. He pried the boy's numb fingers from the bed and let Fudge roll down the hallway. They'd find him...eventually.

.oOo.

In the excitement following Alice's return, it was easy for Severus, Hasan, and Lucius to slip out of the house.

"Where are we going?" Hasan wondered as he ran to keep up the men's long strides.

"Yes, I'd like to know that as well," Lucius murmured.

They had left Grimmauld Place and apparated to an alley in muggle London before entering Diagon Alley the usual way.
"I've checked the box," Snape stated shortly.

Lucius' eyes widened.

"The box-?" Hasan echoed. "What box?"

Severus took a deep breath. "Before your father died, he left a...box. It was his backup plan, I believe."

"For what?" Hasan asked, knowing his father could have several failed plans that could've required a backup.

"I'm not sure, but inside was his Gringott's key."

Lucius shook in his head in disbelief. "Of course. If Altair wanted to leave us anything, he would have had to leave it
someplace safe, and of course his will can't be carried out, so he sent you the key directly, Severus. Simply...brilliant."

"Infuriatingly brilliant, you mean," Severus muttered darkly.

Hasan tried to keep up with the conversation, but he was getting a little tired running behind them. Eventually, the three
entered the esteemed Goblin bank, Hasan a little worse for wear.

Severus strode up to one of the head goblins, placing the key on the high counter. "We would like to access his vault,
please."

The goblin looked over the desk to stare at Hasan and then Lucius with a curl of his lip.

"Ah, the famed heir returns!" he said, then his sharp beady eyes roved over Lucius. "Well met again, my friend, Lord
Malfoy."

"Griphook," Lucius replied, realizing suddenly who was before him.

"Indeed." The goblin hopped down off his stool and came around the counter. "Follow me."

He led them to the cart with a jerk of the head that implied they should get in. They did. One queasy ride later, the four
stumbled out of the cart and onto the cave floor.

"So you've found him?" Griphook asked, nodding to Hasan.

"Altair's son? Yes," Lucius said evenly.

"Then you should know that time is running out for both of you."

Lucius shot a sharp glare at the goblin. "Who told you that?" he demanded sharply.

"Altair Castell, of course," Griphook answered nonchalantly.

"Sounds like him," Severus commented.

Hasan watched as the goblin approached the stone wall and place the key within the hole. He pushed it in and the door
trembled.

"Before I let you in here, I need your word, Lord Malfoy, that you will fulfill your end of the agreement."

"Agreement?" Lucius asked delicately.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor was promised to me by this Altair. If he had told me correctly, he would have disappeared
through the veil by now." Griphook fixed him with a stare. "I need your word that I will have the sword before the year is
out."

Hasan watched Lucius dip his head.

"That was not his to promise, but I give you my word."

A tongue of magic shot out from his mouth and wrapped around Griphook's fingers. The goblin pulled, and Lucius felt
the magic constrict around his throat. Dammit! Goblin magic...he had not thought of that. Maybe this was why wizards
never made deals with goblins.
"What did you just do to him?" Snape asked purely academically. He was slightly concerned with his friend's sudden
choking attack, but he trusted Altair up to a point to ensure the safety of his loved ones.

"Goblin magic, eh?" Griphook grinned, his ugly pointed teeth gleaming in the torchlight. "If I do not have the sword by the
end of the year, your magic will suffocate you. I hope that is sufficient motivation for you, Lord Malfoy."

Lucius glared at the detestable creature. "More than," he spat out.

The goblin grinned to himself and pressed both hands to the door. The entrance lifted a little more. "Now some blood
from the little heir."

Hasan looked from Severus to Lucius to Griphook. "Why?" he asked suspiciously. A wizard did not give his blood out
freely and especially not to beings that so easily enslaved a human to its will.

"Relax, the door requires blood verification that you are indeed the Castell boy."

Severus stepped forward, "If I might be of some assistance?"

Hasan nodded numbly. When Severus suggested he come, he hadn't expected to be bleeding into a wall, but apparently
that was what he was going to be doing. Severus warned the goblin back with a fierce glare, knowing perfectly well how
this verification was carried out and not wanting Griphook to take advantage of Hasan's inexperience.

"Give me your hand," Severus told him softly. "I'll heal it right afterwards."

Hasan bit his lip, emerald eyes glowing in the light. He glanced nervously at the goblin who had his hands up and
shrugged.

"Alright." Severus made a clinical cut with his wand and pressed the boy's bleeding finger to the door. It throbbed for just
a moment before the door accepted his offering with a pleasurable groan. A second later and Snape had healed his
finger as if the cut was never made.

"I'll wait outside," Griphook said as the three wizards peered inside the vault. "Just tell me when you want to leave."

The vault inside was not lush or opulent as Lucius had expected. Instead, it was large, cavernous, with a single item
inside. A box wrapped in golden and silver gift wrapping and bow.

Lucius began to reach for it, but Snape stopped him but gently touching his arm. "There may be a spell on it that allows
only the heir to touch it." Lucius pulled back reluctantly with a nod.

"Should I-?" Hasan wondered, voice unsure.

"Yes," Snape replied softly.

Hasan reached for the box and picked it up. Seeing as nothing exploded, Hasan looked up to the two wizards for
guidance before opening it.

Inside was a small square envelope, blank. Hasan opened it and read silently.

My Dearest Hasan,

I have travelled b ack in time. I have not died though I have seen death with my own eyes many a time. I am soon to b e
that person on the other end of the Dark Lord's curse. Hopefully you will have the courage to finish what I have started
approximately at the time I am in now. Goodb ye. Forgive me my loves.

With all my love, always and forever,

Altair Dean Castell-Malfoy

P.S. I thought you would enjoy this quote my dearest son.

"End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path. One that we all must take."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

Hasan's hands trembled as he held the letter. "He's really dead."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "Can I-?"

Hasan handed the letter over to him. Meanwhile, Lucius had reached into the box and extracted a tiny glass vial.

"Merlin's tears," Lucius breathed, reading the engraved label. "He has saved us!"

From himself, Hasan thought inwardly, but kept his comments to himself.

"Lucius?" Severus asked cautiously. "Will you read this and tell me what you think about this wording here?"

Lucius carefully replaced the tears back in the box, before taking the letter proffered to him. At first, the letter read
smoothly. There was nothing suspicious about it, but then he read it again. Soon to b e that person? What did that mean?
No...No, he couldn't have.

"But they've all been smashed!" Lucius exclaimed. "This can't be!"

"It's Altair," Severus said as if that explained everything. "Of course it can."

A/N- To everyone who has guessed what was in the vault, good job! How'd you like Frank and Alice Longbottom? Is
this the end of Altair Castell?

Thanks to:

guest, DarkRavie, pinks99, EndlessChains, Nagilover4ever, LizaMa, guest, Serpent91, medward, Shalifi,
setokayba2n, Original And Easy To Pronounce, and guest.

PLEASE REVIEW!
*Chapter 48*: Coffee Spoons
A/N- Hey, sorry it's late. I forgot, but never fear! I will update very shortly after this too. I am going to college in just
under a week. Woohoo! I'm scared shitless because I was just recently at a freshmen/alumni social thing and was
rudely snubbed by girls who had rods rammed up their pretentious and privileged asses. Anyway...It made me
realize that while no place will be worse than high school, many students will be shitty like everywhere else on
earth. Excuse my language, but trashy behavior gets trashy adjectives.

Please enjoy the story!

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?

- The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot

Return of Emerald

Chapter 48: Coffee Spoons

Hasan sat on his bed in Grimmauld Place, unwilling to go down to the Potions Lab from the events before to help
Severus develop the potion that would hopefully allow Lucius' memories to be placed back in Lucius' mind.

Tina was fast asleep on one of the lower bookshelves, while Draco was also staring straight up at the ceiling. From
down below, the people roared with laughter over something Alice had said. They were having a veritable party down
below, though the actual party was scheduled for next week.

"Good one, Alice!" Sirius guffawed, banging his glass down with such force it made the paintings on the wall rattle.

How did it feel to have a mother? Hasan wondered absently. One that wasn't a friendly guiding snake, one that was
whole and human and lovely?

Draco, on his side of the room, was thinking about his family. Aunt Bellatrix had destroyed the Longbottom family, yet
Neville had still been in some comradery with him despite that. Did that make Neville a better person than he was? Or
just stupid?

"Hey, Hasan," Draco asked presently.

"Hmm?"

"Where did you go earlier today?"

"What do you mean?" Hasan asked, still staring at the ceiling.

"When everyone was celebrating Mrs. Longbottom's return, I noticed you were gone."

"Oh, that." Hasan sighed. "We went to Gringott's," he began tentatively.

"...and?"

"Well Altair...my dad, you know?"

Draco shifted in bed. "Was in love with my father, I know, I heard."

Hasan had the distinct sense that Draco was upset that he hadn't told him about that, but really, what was Hasan to say?
Hey Draco, I know you've been trying to turn me into the Dark Lord for a good part of the year, but I just wanted to tell you
of the backstory between our fathers! Yeah, that would go over real well.

"Yes, well...we went to see his vault today. He d-died at the Department of Mysteries. You saw. But since he's already
deceased, they won't honor his will, even if he did write one, so we just went to his vault."

"What did you find?" Draco asked, trying to keep the accusation from his voice.

"Merlin's tears."

"That's a thing?"

"Apparently."

"Why do you need them?"

Hasan paused. "Have you ever wondered why your father never told you about him?"

Draco shrugged. "Sometimes."

"And your mother?"

"Probably jealousy."

"It wasn't."

"How do you know?" Draco asked sharply.

"Because Altair did a memory charm on them I think. On your father for sure."

Draco sat up in bed and narrowed his eyes at his roommate.

"So these Merlin's tears..."

Hasan took a deep breath. "Altair didn't erase his memories...just, took them out. And placed them in me."

"WHAT?" Draco hopped out of bed and landed on Hasan's. "He did WHAT?"

"Yeah," Hasan grinned, tapping his forehead. "It's getting a little busy up here. Sometimes I feel like I want to...hug your
dad, but that's an easy enough feeling to suppress."

"I can't believe this!" Draco was saying, mouth agape. "He really did that?"

"Yes, and Severus is working right now on a potion with the tears to set things to right."

"Wow."

"Indeed."

There was a moment of silence where both boys just stared at each other.

"Are you mad at me?" Hasan finally asked. "I'm sorry, but it really wasn't my secret to tell, and when was the proper time
for this?"

"No, I- I'm just tired, that's all. I'm a little shocked you didn't tell me when we were at the manor, but I guess I understand.
Or at least I'm trying to."

"Thank you."

After another moment of silence, a sly grin crept up on Draco's face.

"So...anything of interest in those memories of my fathers?"

Hasan gave him a deadpanned look. "You really want to hear about your father making love?"

"Eww! No! Hasan, why would you even suggest that!" Draco gasped. "I just meant anything I could tease him with!" Draco
protested, bright red.
Hasan had a thoughtful look on his face. "He likes lavender soap?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless!"

.oOo.

Later in the evening, when most of the party-goers had left the top secret base and Augusta had passed out from
excitement, Hasan and Draco crept downstairs. Neville sat next to his mother by the fire looking up at her in adoration.
Narcissa was next to her on her other side, and then Lucius, Minerva, Albus, and Luna remained. Minerva was still on
heavy painkillers from the battle down in the Department of Mysteries, but otherwise was fine. The Weasleys had all
come earlier and were now asleep upstairs.

"Draco, Hasan," Narcissa greeted her boys as they entered the living room.

Draco looked warily at Alice and gave her a jerky polite nod of the head. Hasan bit his lip.

"We were just talking of the potion that saved Mrs. Longbottom's life," Narcissa told them. "Have a seat."

"Actually, I've heard Severus mention that the potion's base was a potions project made by these two," Minerva put in,
beaming at the Slytherin boys.

"Well that settles it," Alice smiled, "You're calling me Alice. Thank you."

Draco and Hasan sat on a small sofa next to Neville, unsure of what to do.

"I'm glad it worked, Alice," Hasan said softly, "Though Luna did a lot of the work."

The girl in question blushed.

"I'm also to understand a prophecy was at work as well," Alice continued. "I would have very much enjoyed hearing it for
myself. What did it say on the orb, may I ask?"

Albus' eyebrows raised. Was this why the children were down in the Department of Mysteries? For the Longbottom
prophecy? He silently berated himself for his negligence. How could this have happened beneath his very nose?

"The orb said C.T. to M.P. Luna Lovegood and (?) Frank Longbottom and (?) Alice Longbottom."

Dumbledore stroked his long silver beard, deep in thought. "Could C.T. refer to Cassandra Trelawney? The great great
grandmother of our very own Sybill Trelawney?"

"That's highly likely as most of the prophecies were made by Cassandra," Lucius said, remembering his time working
closely (or hovering over) the Unspeakables.

"And the M.P.?" Minerva questioned.

"Not a clue," Lucius said airily.

"What a mystery!" Alice exclaimed. "If only Frank were here...he loved mysteries."

Faces darkened at her comment and there was a break in the conversation.

"Lady Longbottom," Lucius began in a tone of voice that held purpose. Even Hasan sat at full attendance and he wasn't
even sure why. But Draco did. His father was going to do something great. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye could have
imploded the man.

"Lord Malfoy," Alice returned in that same tone of voice.

"Lucius?" Narcissa questioned softly. Her husband gave her an infinitesimal shake of the head. Don't interfere. He knew
what he was doing.

Lucius Malfoy stood up and walked before the recently recovered Longbottom matriarch and knelt at her feet. Neville
stifled a gasp.

"Our family has hurt yours in a manner that was and is unforgiveable. I hope this will offering will forge a new era of
peace between us."
On his outstretched arms lay the last of the Malfoy daggers, the one that Hasan recognized as the one Altair had kept
and the one Lucius had loved.

Alice rose to her feet gracefully, the potion working wonders for her strength.

"I, Alice Longbottom, accept your offering. May our families be united in peace." Carefully, she took the offered dagger and
stowed it in her robes.

"That was-that was-that was-" Draco whispered to Hasan, unable to believe what had just happened.

"I know," Hasan said.

Minerva had tears in her eyes. Albus had tears in his beard.

"I'm proud of you," Narcissa said, smiling up at her husband. A tiny part of her though was relieved he had passed on the
dagger and not kept it. She still remembered the times when he had cradled the object, mouthing Altair in his sleep. She
understood that it stopped the Dark Lord's wrath from killing him, but after Draco and Hasan had developed the short-
term cruciatus cure this past year, the dagger became unnecessary. Just another reminder of the life and love Lucius
had before her. Selfish, perhaps, but she was only human.

"Thank you, 'Cissa," Lucius said, watching as the reunited Longbottoms hugged each other like the world had finally
resumed spinning.

.oOo.

Severus had called Hasan and Lucius down to his potions lab with a conundrum.

"I cannot understand how to add these damnable tears!" Severus growled in frustration. "I can't change their temperature
without risking some of the properties and I can't just pour it in because the cauldron is so hot they will evaporate on the
spot!"

Lucius looked resigned. "Did he not leave us any other hints?" he asked.

"None," Severus frowned. "Unless..." He turned to Hasan. "Down in the chamber of secrets, did Slytherin have any books
on Merlin tears?"

"Umm...he had a book written by Merlin," Hasan said, face scrunched in concentration.

The two men exchanged a look.

"Albus!" Snape called, just as the old man was getting ready to floo back. Dumbledore stopped just as he was getting
ready to leap into the green flames. (What a waste of floo poweder! he tsked to himself.) "Albus, can you take Hasan
back with you to Hogwarts?"

No way was Severus leaving his carefully crafted potion lying around for dunderheads to mess it up, and Lucius couldn't
be seen at Hogwarts. He had been at St. Mungo's earlier, where no doubt an investigation was happening as they
spoke, and it was only a matter of time before they started scanning the floo ways for all of the people who were visitors
of the Longbottoms. At least with Hasan, as he was a kid, they wouldn't necessarily tug him out of the floo channel, and
especially not with Dumbledore on board.

"Why, may I ask?" Albus asked pleasantly.

"It's a long story."

"Very well, very well. Come along, Hasan!"

When they arrived at Hogwarts, Hasan led the way to the girls' bathroom.

"Sir, could you wait out here?" Hasan asked the man.

"Whatever you want, my dear boy!"

Approaching the snake sink, Hasan hissed out the password before levitating himself down to the bottom floor. The
chamber was just as he remembered it. Eerily lit, dark, magical.

"Lumos!"
Hasan made his way down to Slytherin's study, wand in hand, eyes alert for gutter rats and the like.

As he pushed the door open, he wondered briefly where Melusine had gotten to, but that was quickly answered as the
snake in question was curled up in a ball by Slytherin's desk.

:Hasan!: Melusine exclaimed. :I didn't expect you today!:

:Hello, Melusine,: Hasan smiled. :I was wondering if you know where I stowed that book on Merlin.:

Melusine was wide awake in seconds, slithering over to where Hasan stood and drawing herself up so her face was
right in front of the boy's.

:So you are ready to add the Merlin's tears to the potion, is that right?: Melusine hissed.

:Wha- What? How did you-?:

:Hasan, please,: Melusine hissed, :I know a thing or two about you. You only come down here last minute when you
remember you have Slytherin's expanse of knowledge at your disposal. But no need to worry, I know how to use Merlin's
tears, remember?:

:Even in a say, memory sharing ritual potion?:

Melusine laughed as only snakes can laugh.

:Why, of course, my dearest Hasan. Especially those.:

"Ready?" Albus asked as Hasan emerged from the sink tunnel with a large green snake around his arm.

"Yes," Hasan said.

"Good, good! Then off we go. You know, Severus really needs to work on his patience."

.oOo.

When Hasan returned to the potions lab, he was slightly startled to see Narcissa and Draco present as well. But not as
startled as they were upon spotting Melusine wrapped around his arm.

"That's not Tina, is it?" Severus asked just to be sure.

"No, this is Melusine," Hasan replied. "What?"

Lucius stepped forward, locking eyes with Severus. "You recall when I said that the Dark Lord had a painting of Melusine
before the potions lab?"

Hasan nodded.

"That is the snake," Severus said with certainty. "I would know, I had to pass her every day."

"How is that possible?" Hasan asked, quickly echoed by Narcissa.

:Please relay my story to the others, little one," Melusine said.

"What's she saying?" Draco demanded.

"She's going to tell you a story," Hasan replied blankly, trying not to fall into parseltongue.

They listened to her hiss a while before Hasan took a deep breath.

"She says that one day a man came into the potions lab, but there were two men...and they freed her from her confines.
In return, she gave them extra vials of Merlin tears."

"And these men...wouldn't happen to be Altair, would they?"

"They?" Narcissa asked.

Melusine hissed again.

"Yes," Hasan answered, seemingly surprised by his own answer. "Yes, they were."

After a brief intermission in which Severus and Lucius and Narcissa stood off to the side discussing important topics
like paradox in hushed tones, Severus returned to the matter at hand.

"We need to do this ritual now. Hasan, if you would consent to be Melusine's translator?"

They worked like that, hiss, speak, stir, for fifteen minutes, until the potion released a plume of scarlet then blue smoke.

"It's ready," Hasan told him. "Or at least, Melusine says so."

"She's correct," Severus said.

"Now we just have to let it set for five minutes," Hasan continued. "And then we have to drink it at the same time."

.oOo.

"Ready?" Hasan asked.

"Ready."

Narcissa watched on with concern in her eyes as the two drank down the pearly pink concoction in one go. It didn't seem
very interesting at all to watch. But then a large golden orb formed above Hasan's head and fell plop right into Lucius'.

Draco watched his father's face for any sort of indication of pain or...something, but his father's face was a carefully blank
slate. Then Melusine starting hissing something, rapidly.

It seemed to occur to all of them at once that Hasan could not respond. What was the snake saying? Was it something
important? Had something gone wrong.

Splat! What was that?

Splat! Splat!

Narcissa was by her husband in a minute. "Darling! Darling! Stay with me. I'm here. Are you okay?"

He didn't answer. Tears kept falling from his eyes, uncontrollably. The snake kept hissing.

"I believe it's working," Snape said lowly, but his nervousness was belied by his tightly drawn face. Sure, Altair had
planned for this to work, had presumptuously assumed it would work, but would it? For only a blasted portrait snake for
guidance, who knew what was supposed to happen?

"They're both crying..." Draco whispered to himself. "Is that supposed to happen?" he asked his godfather.

"I don't know anymore, Draco," the man answered.

As the onlookers waited with baited breaths for the memories to realign themselves, Hasan and Lucius were in the
midst of a memory field, blasting by their eyes and ears like a wind tunnel.

A memory of Hasan eating his first bowl of oatmeal swam by soon followed by Lucius and Altair bent over books of data
on blood purity.

"He did it all for me?" Lucius asked, inhibitions down.

"He knew I was the safest place," Hasan answered peacefully, "because he would never let anything happen to me.
Ever."

"Why did he do it? Do you think?" Lucius asked, walking along the path of dreams and thoughts. "Why not get all the
horcruxes himself? Why send me letters? Involve Narcissa? Adopt a child, if all he planned to do was shoot himself into
oblivion again?"

"All people desire happiness," Hasan replied. "I don't think he could stay away...Is he in oblivion?"

"In a time loop...yes, I believe so..."

"How?"
"It's difficult to explain," Lucius sighed. "But never doubt he knew what he was doing. Yes, he was a brilliant man, all
right."

"He loved you."

"He loved many," Lucius smiled. "I am glad you are my son also now. You connect us, in a way. Did he tell you? We
intended to adopt..."

"So even in a different universe, a different dimension I would still be-"

"Still be our son, yes."

Their hearts were at ease, here, now, in this beautiful wind tunnel of colors with flowers and clouds. Their desires
intermingled in the air. They knew each other, enveloped as they were in Altair's love.

"You feel envious of Neville for having a mother?" Lucius remarked absently, plucking a lily from the pathway.

"I don't feel ashamed of my emotions. Not anymore. Even those Severus would call silly."

"It isn't silly to want a mother. Narcissa does love you, Hasan. She always wanted another son. And now you are here."

"How can you say that?" Hasan asked, coming right up next to Lucius and snatching away his lily. "She didn't even know
who I was before all this. Even now I feel her quiet resentment of Altair and your love for him."

"She doesn't resent you, child. You are hers to her."

Lucius softly hugged the emerald eyed boy, letting his feelings of love wrap around them in a gust of scarlet wind.

"We're a family."

"Luna and Severus too?" Hasan asked, childishly.

"Luna and Severus too..."

Suddenly, they were slammed to the ground, black engulfing their spirits whole.

"Lucius! Hasan!" shouts from beyond the pitch called to them. They felt the familiar tug of apparation behind their navels.

"Hasan! Hasan!"

"Lucius! Lucius!"

Then all was white.

"I'm fine! We're fine!" Hasan told them, swatting away their hands despite the fact he still couldn't see anything.

"We are all intact. It was rather pleasant actually."

Lucius came into focus first when Hasan blearily opened his eyes. Then he could see the others.

"You have a lily in your hand," Severus said in awe.

Hasan unfurled his fingers and indeed, there sat plump and lovely, a beautiful lily flower. He glanced up quickly at Lucius
and smiled.

Fin.

Haha, no. But actually though, we are getting to the very end.

A/N-
Like always, reviews are appreciated. Thanks for 1044! I thank each and every one of you with my heart, but it is
very late and I'm sorry but I will have to do the list thing later. Just know I love you, you special few who did review.

Hugs and chocolate frogs to all!

BT
*Chapter 49*: The Freed Inheritors
A/N- Two updates left...

Thanks for all of the reviews everyone!

"It is as though the fiends prevail'd

Against the seraphs they assail'd

And, fix'd on heavenly thrones, should dwell

The freed inheritors of hell;

So soft the scene, so form'd for joy,

So curst the tyrants that destroy!"

- The Giaour by Lord Byron

Return of Emerald

Chapter 49: The Freed Inheritors

Albus sat at his desk, face in hands, tears in beard. The Daily Prophet lay across his desk. It seemed as though under
Minster Umbridge's new regime, the newspaper had made a quick and complete recovery, paralleling Miss Skeeter's
own revival to what she viewed as real news.

The Quibbler was quickly taken under as an unreliable source of news, putting Luna's father out of work, while
eliminating the only media outlet the Order had to share the truth with the public. In short, Umbridge wasn't wasting any
time as Minister of Magic.

Dumb ledore Unab le or Unwilling to Save War Heroes?

by Rita Skeeter

Late last night, I happened to get a floo call from our illustrious new female Minster of Magic, Ms. Umb ridge. (Still single,
you hear that gentlemen?) It seems that our esteemed St. Mungo's was not up to the task of preventing a fire from wiping
out War Heroes Frank and Alice Longb ottom from life on this sweet earth.

When asked if their deaths could have b een prevented b y Alb us Dumb ledore one of the nurses gave me a very
disappointed look. "You know what they say, Dumb ledore is more powerful than You-Know-You. Took down Grindelwald
with a look, if you know what I mean. He could have easily come here, done some ancient magic, and poof! Cured those
war heroes like they deserved."

I then proceeded to ask her what she thought of the rumours that You-Know-Who was b ack. She snorted at me.

"Poppycock. Harry Potter done got rid of him a loooong time ago. See that? Alb us Dumb ledore let a b ab y do his dirty
work for him. A b ab y! If I didn't know b etter, I'd say he'd wanted the Potters to die. Just as he wanted Frank and Alice to
die today."

Is it true, ladies and gentlemen? Is Alb us Dumb ledore, the most powerful wizard to date since Merlin really responsib le
for this much pain and destruction? Or was he, perhaps, too b usy, incompetently running that ancient b uilding, called
Hogwarts where your child is falling b ehind Beauxb atons?...

Incompetence at Hogwarts: Is Alb us Dumb ledore Setting YOUR Kid Up for Failure?

Albus stopped reading. Of course Skeeter didn't have a point. Albus was very good at what he did, thank you very much,
but perhaps...just maybe, a change was in order.

"Minerva, my dear, thank you very much for coming to see me."
Minerva slowly made her way into the room. She was all patched up according to Poppy, which was saying something,
but decided to take it easy until she had to.

"What is it, Albus? You haven't read the Prophet, have you? It's not true, you know."

Albus sighed heavily. "It's been wonderful serving as headmaster. Simply a treat, but I fear I am not what I used to be."

"I don't understand."

"I want you to be the next Headmistress of Hogwarts," Albus said, his ice blue eyes determined. "You are the power and
the change we need to see this school through this coming war."

"But Albus!"

"Minerva, I'm not joking. This is very important to me and I...I admit I am looking forward to retirement." He smiled softly.
"Will you, Minerva, relieve an old man of his burden? You will be the finest headmistress that Hogwarts has ever seen."

Minerva gave him a warm smile, before rushing up and wrapping her arms around him.

"Thank you, Albus. I will."

.oOo.

One week later.

It was around noon, when the floor began to shake. Minerva set down her teacup. "Albus? Is that you?"

And then the alarms went off.

"I say!" the portraits shouted down the hall. "This never happened when I was headmaster!"

Quickly, Minerva shot off her patronus to Grimmauld Place. It was time.

Within seconds, Order members began spilling in through the fireplaces. The wards would hold, but not forever.

"Where's Minerva?" Albus shouted.

"I'm here! It's just started. They're coming from the forest too!"

Albus looked around himself, making eye contact with Lupin and Hagrid. "You know what to do."

Hasan listened a bit as the headmaster made an enthusiastic war speech, impressed that the man as old and magical
as Merlin was not relying on someone as young and inexperienced as himself to solve the day.

Melusine was curled around his neck, hissing at people who looked at her funny.

:Hasan...Hasan there is something I was meaning to tell you...:

"We will be strong! We will conquer Voldemort once and for all!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and was growing by the second. Flitwick entered the main hall followed by an army of
house elves armed with automatic meat cutting knives. It was Arthur's idea, as he was fascinated by muggle things.
What good was a house elf wielding a spoon anyway?

"Remus Lupin has gone to retrieve the werewolf packs willing to help us and Hagrid has gone to fetch his distant
relatives. Professor Flitwick, if you would be so kind to invite the goblins to aid us? I expect the wards will fall in the next
fifteen minutes. Prepare yourselves."

With that, the former headmaster of Hogwarts stepped away from the circle, and began making preparations to secure
the most valuable things in the school.

"The goblins are coming," Lucius said, turning to Severus. The man just quirked an eyebrow, but Lucius was off running
towards the headmaster's office. Goblins, Griphook, Sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor was surely still in the school.
Why not use it? Besides, if it was all going to end today, that meant there was still one more horcrux. Nagini.

.oOo.
Voldemort smiled to himself. Those fools! He could see their ragtag forces of wolves and giants coming from the
Forbidden Forest, but they could not stand against his power! His might!

"Bellatrix."

"Yes! My Lord!"

"You have failed to kill the Longbottom boy, but no matter. Bring me Dumbledore's head on a platter and I shall reward
you, my sweet."

Bellatrix, ecstatic beyond words, could only cackle. Yes, Hogwarts was his for the taking.

:What is it?: Hasan asked Melusine curiously. :What kind of secret?:

Severus, who was in charge of keeping Hasan alive, looked at him oddly. Was now really the best time to chat with your
pet snake? Really, what good could she do in battle but bite a few people nearby?

"Hasan, we need to go to the Great Hall..."

"Wait, she's telling me a secret."

:Go ahead, Melusine. What is it?:

:I'm a shapeshifter.:

:An animagus?:

:Not quite.:

:Like Tonks?:

:No. Let me show you...:

Severus was just about to snap that he didn't care what nonsense his pet snake had to spew when suddenly, his snake
glowed white. In the second it took for Severus to blink, a full grown dragon was in the place where the snake just was.

"Fuck." Snape's jaw hung open.

:I will protect you, my darling, at all costs!: Then with all her might, Melusine roared, striking fear into the cowards that
attacked the school.

Voldemort even stopped in his gloating walk around the school. What on earth?

Lucius ran into the hall to get Severus and Hasan, sword of Gryffindor in hand.

"What-?"

"No time!" Snape snapped, and grabbed ahold of Hasan as they ran into the Great Hall. The house elves all scattered
out of the way. People ooed and ahhed.

"Now that's what I call a dragon," Hagrid smiled, riding on the shoulder of Grawp.

Albus beamed at his army that was growing larger by the minute. Suits of armor followed Minerva into the hall. They
didn't have wars like this when Albus was fighting Grindelwald, no sir!

The wards broke with an earsplitting bang, falling from the building like fluttering bits of fire.

"Charge!" Voldemort thought, thrusting his wand in the air. "Morsmordre!" The green jet of light set the dark mark in the air
over the school. He watched as Bellatrix shove his own warriors out of the way in her excitement. He would come later.
He only had a little boy to kill, after all.

.oOo.

It was utter chaos. Small fights and fires sprung up around the school, but the main battles were fought within the Great
Hall. Melusine was outside, blasting the bulk of the Dark Lord's men into ash, but even then, there were just too many.

"I need to get close to the snake," Lucius muttered to Severus.

"A horcrux?"

"Yes."

"You may be waiting for a bit. He seems content to stay outside and watch the show rather than fight."

Lucius sneered. "He always was a coward."

Around them, the goblins tore off wizards' heads, snapping jaws, and breaking necks. The house elves were just as
ruthless, turning on their meat cuttings and sprinting through the Dark Lord's ranks. Ouch!

As night fell, the Dark Lord grew impatient. Where was the brat? The hurt from having his soul torn out of Hasan was still
fresh in his mind and he was bent on revenge. With a cry of fury, Voldemort heading into the battle.

Minerva was busy dueling three death eaters at once, Molly, Narcissa, and Alice, at her back. The four witch group was
singlehandedly covering most of the Great Hall, but even they weren't invincible.

A stunner hit Minerva below the ankle, causing her to topple over. Molly looked down for just a second before she was
blasted into the wall.

"Avada Kedavra!" someone shouted, just as Albus roared off a protego.

The force of his magic was so powerful, that the entire left side of the room was knocked to the ground.

"Dumbledore! Bella is here to play! Sorry 'Cissy, no time to speak!"

Albus would have ordinarily let Severus or Lucius handle the deranged witch, but the woman was not to be shaken off of
him. Lucius clenched his teeth. He could feel the Dark Lord get closer with every step. He dare not interfere with this
battle. He had to lay low before he struck the snake for good.

"You do not have your sisters' grace, I'm afraid," Albus chatted mildly as Bellatrix continued to drive him further towards
the wall.

"You think petty insults can stop me? Crucio!"

They danced like that for an eternity, before the hall went quiet. Voldemort had arrived.

Then several things happened at once. Lucius lunged. Nagini's head flew through the air. Griphook snatched the sword
with a gleeful cry. Voldemort screamed. And Bellatrix hit Albus with a green flash of lightning.

In Voldemort's shock at having his last horcrux ripped from him, he did not even have time to gloat over Albus' fallen body.

"Where is HE?" Voldemort screeched, picking up Lucius by the throat. "Where is HASAN CASTELL?"

Lucius went white.

"Still fighting children, are we, Riddle?" Severus asked, stepping out from the crowd. He was relatively unhurt, as he was
with Hasan most of the time, but he was bleeding from a cut beneath his left eye, which hurt more than it should have.

In the moment that Voldemort was distracted, Flitwick used a slicing spell across Bellatrix's body. He did not even aim for
the neck. Her upper body sailed across the room and splattered like a bug on the window panes. Her lower half rolled
towards the Dark Lord, who let fall Lucius in surprise. That, and he was weakened from the loss of his horcrux.

"We don't let children fight our wars!" Minerva cried, standing with Flitwick, Severus, and Lucius. "Even Albus
Dumbledore, the greatest wizard to ever live knew that."

Voldemort's face contorted in fury before he smiled maliciously. "Ah, but your precious Dumbledore is dead!"

The Dark Lord advanced on the small band of gathering teachers, not even caring as he stepped right on top of
Bellatrix's lower half with a sickening splat of blood and crunch of bones.

"He is DEAD!"

"And now you are too." Hasan, who was able to sneak around the Dark Lord during his monologue, held up the Malfoy
dagger Draco had given him long ago and stabbed downward. Slicing through the monster's shoulder blades, down
along his spine, and out his back. The dagger was full of something that even the Dark Lord could not understand. Love.
And it destroyed him, ate him inside out like maggots.

Pieces of the Dark Lord, like black threads, flew up into the air and dissolved. Then there was a shout of victory as all the
Death Eaters promptly fainted...

.oOo.

The aftermath was not as bad as Minerva had feared, but it was bad enough. They had lost several aurors and many
good men and women. Luckily, school was out and the only minor there they were aware of was Hasan, who had only
come because Severus insisted there was something like a prophecy- or some such nonsense.

Tonks was dead, found while they were clearing the rubble on the stairs. Moody was also dead, defending Tonks
supposedly. A few goblins had died, including Griphook. She had heard the goblins were burying the poor goblin like a
king since he had reclaimed their honor, the sword of Godric Gryffindor. And a few house elves inevitably fell from the war.
Perhaps guiltily, Minerva did not feel any sadness when she learned that Umbridge had been crushed by a giant's foot
as she attempted to give one a jail sentence for trespassing...but who was she kidding? Minerva was pretty dang
pleased. The position of Minister of Magic was now in the hands of the voters who had to elect either Amelia Bones or
Kingsley Shacklebolt. Either way, Minerva was sure the future was a bright one.

And then, Albus...She tended not to dwell on that one.

No one was sure where the dragon had come from, or where it had gone, but Hasan was seen burying a large shoebox
outside Grimmauld Place the next day...

As Minerva gazed over her school, her heart swelled with contentment.

A/N- REVIEWS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED.

*Chapter 50*: Deepening Shades
A/N- I wanted to finish in the summer, updating that is. But then Life kicked the fucking shit out of me. One crapnado
and a semester of college over and I am finally getting around to posting. Sorry. On the bright side...one update left!

"The death of friends, or death

Of every brilliant eye

That made a catch in the breath -

Seem but the clouds of the sky

When the horizon fades;

Or a bird's sleepy cry

Among the deepening shades."

-The Tower by W.B. Yeats

Return of Emerald

Chapter 50: Deepening Shades

Epilogue

He had wild eyes. He had wild hair too. Black and wild like James Potter before him. But he had his father's brain:
cunning, swift. And a heart that Lily would be proud of.

Severus took the day off from helping Minerva tend to the little brats at Hogwarts to accompany him to muggle London.
Narcissa had wished them lots of fun and even packed a lunch for Severus, much to the man's amusement.

"What are we looking for, again?" Severus asked as he was subject to the whims of his second godson.

"A bookshop!" Hasan told him for the umpteenth time.

"And Flourish and Blott's doesn't work because..."

"They don't sell muggle books, do they?" Hasan asked him. "Honestly, Severus... Ooh! Let's go down here!" He darted
forward, leaving Severus in the dust.

"Hasan!" Severus called, "Hasan!"

But the boy was off, running through the streets. Severus shook his head. Just like his father. Inconspicuous indeed.

When he finally caught up with the boy, they were on the edge of the shopping district. An odd look crept onto the boy's
face and he shivered.

"Do you know where we are?" Hasan asked him suddenly.

"Not a clue," Severus said, catching his breath.

"We're near the orphanage."

That got Severus' attention. "You were near muggle London that whole time?"

"Of course I was," Hasan sighed. He bit his lip. "Do you mind- I mean, do you want to see? I mean, it's been a while, but I
just feel like I need some sort of...closure?"

Hasan shuffled his feet. He sounded silly, but something was compelling him to go forward, no matter what Severus
thought.
"Of course, Hasan," Severus acquiesced lightly. "Whatever you want. After all, it is your birthday."

Hasan set off down the road...knowing the way somehow...feeling at home as he approached.

"It's down there," Hasan said, pointing off into the distance. "I see the red mill...see it? On the hill..."

Severus did not see the mill, but even so he nodded. Something felt...off here. How did Hasan even know where to turn?
There were no markers, and it had been years, hadn't it?

Severus and Hasan walked along the grass, further and further in towards the hill that Hasan kept insisting was there.
And then they were on the hill. And there was no mill. Or orphanage. Or bookshop. Or farm for that matter...

Instead, there was a treasure chest on top of the hill. Hasan approached it, then drew his hand back rapidly as if burnt.

"It-It-"

Severus gasped. It felt like Altair. How?

"Let's open it," Severus suggested. They had defeated a Dark Lord. Could a trunk on a godforsaken hill really harm
them?

Hasan took the unhooked latch and opened it slowly. Their jaws hung open.

"Are they...time turners?" Hasan wondered with awe. "I thought they were all smashed? Months ago!"

Severus shook his head and didn't even bother holding in a chuckle. "That bastard..."

For within the treasure chest were millions of little golden time turners, stacks and stacks, in the space manipulated
trunk.

"But that means..." Hasan's eyes glowed. "I can have him back-"

"Hasan-"

"I can do it all over again!"

"Hasan-"

"He doesn't need to die!"

"Hasan. You can't!"

The boy stopped midspeech. His eyes filled, misted over.

Severus bent to snatch a little card off the top of the time turners.

Please return these. –Altair

Hasan shivered from something more sacred than cold and hugged himself. Then Severus hugged him too. Later on,
he would tell Luna about what he and Severus had found. She would smile and hug him, and peck him on the cheek
and would say that she understood. And Hasan would feel whole once again. But for now...

"Let's take these to the Ministry," Hasan said firmly. "It's what he wanted."

.oOo.

Approximately one year later, the Quibbler had released its first research paper, or book rather, after being fully restored
with honors by the new Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones.

It was called the Black Blood Book and was hailed as Witch Weekly's choice of the year.

Hasan and Luna visited Godric's Hollow for the first time in their lives on Halloween of that year. He wasn't sure how to
feel as he gazed along the tombstones. Dumbledore had been buried in the graveyard too, as his family had lived in the
community for centuries. That had been a surprise to Hasan, who had never seen the old headmaster as anything other
than a part of Hogwarts. To think he had family and a home here was...extraordinarily odd.

"I brought lilies for your mother today," Luna told him gently. "And roses for your father...and forget-me-nots for your dad."
Hasan turned to look at her, really look. Her large silver eyes so full of love and understanding.

"Look," she said, and gestured towards a small tombstone in the back, behind even Dumbledore's.

Altair Dean Castell-Malfoy

1954-1974, 1993

here is the deepest secret nob ody knows

(here is the root of the root and the b ud of the b ud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

Luna set the small blue flowers on his small, unobtrusive slab of stone, and hummed.

fin.

A/N: I am writing this to you now in profound silence. I am deeply deeply honored to have had so many people read
my story. To you, I say thank you. This story has been my companion since the beginning of highschool. To close the
story right after I graduate is a full circle moment for me.

Please, for the very last time, review.

Here are some fun facts:

Haydn – for the music guy who wrote the audition song for the Orchestra I wanted to join

Tina, for Tina Fey (my love!)

Melusine from the myth and the Starbucks Logo. Apparently she turned into a dragon in some versions, so really
that wasn't all too random.

Zyphryus for (one of) the gods of the wind.

Omnia for the god of dreams.

Oh, and just for kicks, Melusine's full name is Melusine Pressyne. Pressyne is the name of Melusine's mother from
the legend, but I just took it. She is the M.P. that heard Cassandra Trelawney's prophecy about the Longbottoms.
Day-uhm!

So please please please review!

*Chapter 51*: Love Crossed AKA the Time Loop
A/N- Here it is. The final installment of ROE. I know I've been holding out on you, but for good reason. I have barely
made it through this first year of college and I could not, in god sconscience, waste work I had put my heart into
during a time of pain and turmoil. I hope you appreciate this last chapter. As always, enjoy!

"Vanished, and left but memories, that should be out of season

With the hot blood of youth, of love crossed long ago;

And I took all the blame out of all sense and reason,

Until I cried and trembled and rocked to and fro..."

-The Cold Heaven by W.B. Yeats

Return of Emerald

Chapter 43: Loved Crossed AKA The Time Loop

Chapter 42, ROE:

"IT CAN'T BE!" Voldemort screamed, finger pointed at the man shaking violently. "I KILLED YOU!" The pull of so many of
his soul shards left Hasan and Voldemort almost paralyzed, b ut Voldemort was not to b e stopped b y mere shock. And
shock it was for everyone, for Severus and Lucius and Alb us Dumb ledore, when the man sprinted inhumanely fast
towards the veil...

Panic constricted the Dark Lord's heart. No. NONONONONONO!

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screeched, wand pointed perfectly at his target.

The green b eam of light hit the man in the b ack...the horcruxes flew from his grip...and then he was gone. Just like that.
The ghostlike curtains fluttering as the horcruxes disappeared as well.

.oOo.

Previously.

Altair Castell stared at himself in the mirror one last time. Then he set it down. Lucius should have been gone by now, he
thought, and so it was time for him to get a move on too.

Walking to one's own death was a very peculiar feeling. He had known it was going to happen. Had seen it even, but...

What choice did he have? Slowly, Altair made his way to his bedchambers and opened his closet. There, behind a false
panel, was a pouch. In it, the items he had stowed away, the items of his nightmares. He shakily reached out for the
pouch and sat heavily on his bed.

He dumped the contents of it into his shaking palms. There, a tarnished gold ring, and then a brilliantly bright golden
hourglass...

"Portus," Altair whispered, touching his wand to the ring. Objects didn't ordinarily have auras, or if they did, they were
weak, easily ignored. But now the ring he had just touched pulsed with golden light even as he shoved it in his cloak
pocket.

He walked silently to his book shelf and took down the items one by one: an ordinary cup, a heavy stone ring, an intricate
locket, and a beautiful diadem. He put these in a separate pocket.

Just before he apparated to the Ministry of Magic, for he could sense with his Magical Sight, if he tried hard enough
(which he did because what was strain when it was the very last thing he would do?) the falling of the apparation wards
around the Department of Mysteries, he put the time turner around his neck on a long golden chain.

.oOo.
The night was windy. Store shutters that were not properly tethered and locked slammed against the buildings like the
beating of a drum. But the drum roll was faint, for he was within the annex, safely ensconced within the dark marble
walls. The potions vial clanked against the ring in his pocket.

As he walked onward, the sounds of battle came louder and fiercer, the drum beats of the wind's poor instruments
weaker and weaker.

...

.oOo.

Present.

When Voldemort shouted the Avada Kedavra, Altair had to hand it to himself. He was a bloody genius. The time turner
activated at that moment, whisking him and only him away to a time long past. The horcruxes continued on their
trajectory through the veil though, which was kind of an interesting thing to ponder, if he had any time left to ponder.
Would the soul shards simply...die? Were they even considered alive? Or were they...just denatured like a protein, unable
to function properly.

Silly muggle science, his brain wandered. He allowed it.

Time zipped by him in a tunnel of bright rainbow light. Maybe it was different for people who couldn't see auras, but to
Altair, it was breathtakingly b eautiful. His breath was forced from his lungs as the tunnel pushed around his ribs. All too
soon, time began to slow. The tunnel faded, and he was dumped, oomph! onto the cold floor of the potion's room.

"Stupefy!"

"Stupef-!"

Altair smirked, patting himself on the back for having such a good memory. And reflexes, mind you. It wasn't every day
that he could duel himself.

Altair stood up straight, no longer shaking with fear though his imminent demise was upon him. Staring at him. He
looked down at his former self, surveyed the younger's bloodshot eyes and purple under-eye bags, and by Merlin, his
skinnier waist!

"Altair, I take it," the elder said, smiling down on the younger now frozen. "You don't have to nod, I know you can't, but
please, just take it from me. This isn't a trick."

Merlin! What had he told himself this long ago? What if he messed up the speech and shot a bloody hole through time
and space? He couldn't think about that now. It was hard enough to ignore the vibrant auras of this other time period
without listening to his own increasing doubts. "If memory serves correctly, we have approximately fifteen minutes before
the Dark Lord comes crashing in through that door, wondering what on earth is going on here, but we will be done before
that, rest assured. Now, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Altair Castell. I am from the future."

It took a while to get the entire story of his life out in front of him, but he managed to do so- vomit up his history- within five
minutes. Such a valuable, rich life, condensed in such a short amount of time. Altair could hardly understand it. Or stand
it. It seemed so bloody unfair. He told the past him everything, mostly, about one day seeing a brilliant aura and following
it, and knowing what to do with the memories and everything else too. And strategically planting the tiniest of hopes that
he would one day see Lucius Malfoy again too. Altair winced as he said that one, knowing it was a lie, or a stretching of
the truth at best. Lucius and he would never be what they once were, what this younger version of him just recently had,
before reaping Lucius' memories just moments before deciding to snoop in Snape's potions lab.

"I am going to un-stun you now, okay? And I know it is a lot to take in, but believe me, you can do it…I have." Altair's eyes
misted over, but he stubbornly blinked to clear them. Time was running out...

Abruptly, Altair turned towards the large painting of a snake in a bathtub hanging opposite the table full of potions. Past
Altair looked very puzzled as his future self didn't even bother to look at him after unfreezing him.

"Melusine Pressyne, I know you have been listening," Altair said in a perfectly serious tone to the painting.

Past Altair cocked his head in confusion. "That's a painting, you know..."

"You know my name?" Melusine hissed, slithering to the edge of the frame. "Who are you?"
"I'm a- We're parselmouths?" Past Altair exclaimed, mouth agape.

"No, we're speaking English," Future Altair replied without sparing him a glance.

"Then how-?"

"I'm not really a snake, silly human," Melusine hissed. "What is it you want from me, Altair of the Future? I can sense your
question."

Altair bowed his head. "I have a proposition for you. I have heard that you have acquired Merlin's tears from a travelling
merchant."

"You have heard correctly, but what is in it for me?"

"I will free you from your confines."

Past Altair was attempting to pick his jaw up from the floor. Melusine flushed in pleasure. This was getting interesting.

"Agreed."

"Why do we- I need those?" Past Altair asked as his future self shoved an envelope into his hands.

"Hold your questions and applause till the end please," Future Altair said, getting worried now. They had four minutes
left. "Now strip."

"-What?"

"Quickly!"

Meanwhile, Future Altair was applying some heavy duty mind magic to the picture frame. His memory really was blurry.
How had he freed that blasted snake again? Nonverbally he was sure...Oh Salazar, three minutes! He pushed his magic
out with all his might and hoped Wish Magic would do the rest. Damndamndamndamndamn!

"Now get into my clothes!" Future Altair ordered, pleased to note that the snake was slithering down the wall from her
frame. Oh, thank Merlin that worked out.

As Future Altair finished pulling up his Past's pants (It took some effort. Had he really gained that much weight?), he
began sweeping potions off the table left and right.

"What are you-?"

"NO TIME!" Future Altair shouted, throwing the potion's vial in his own pocket to his younger self. "Drink this. See Severus
in a month. Oh, and here's a portkey. Make yourself a nice little home wherever you land. Instructions for Gringott's are in
the letter!"

Then, he slashed his wand over the snake and his younger self both, shoving them into the corner and disillusioning
them so that they appeared to be invisible.

The angry red aura was getting nearer. Suffocating him with its wasplike magic, always attacking, always darkening.
Then the scarlet aura was before him, almost blotting out the image of the very real person it emanated from.

"Altair Castell..." the Dark Lord hissed, once-handsome face obscured and marred by a flattened nose, slit red eyes, and
ashy white skin. Voldemort took one look at the desecrated potions table, full of Severus' latest experiments, and saw
red. Literally.

"Avada Kedavra!"

This time, when Altair heard the curse, he did not smile to himself. He did not congratulate himself on a job well done or
pull a miraculous escape with a time turner. Instead, his pale blue eyes darted to where his younger self hid, shivering, if
he remembered correctly, and whispered the word to activate his younger self's portkey.

"Hasan."

A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks for 1124 reviews! You guys warm my heart!
For those of you who were wondering what happened with Altair Castell, here it is. I tried to leave hints along the
way, but I hope I was clever enough to keep some of you still guessing.

So just in case there was any confusion with what the hell happened to Altair, here is the condensed version:

Altair made a portkey before he went to the Department of Mysteries.

As he runs towards the veil, he turns the Time-Turner so it appears that he ran through the veil, but really only the
horcruxes did.

He goes back in time to give the portkey to the past him. He informs the Past Altair that he will meet a boy named
Hasan in the future and he is the most precious thing to him. He explains about the memory ritual and everything.

He, Future Altair, then turns to the painting of Melusine and makes a deal. He will free her from her painting if she
gives him the vials of Merlin tears she had not used up in a potion previously used to turn her into a snake. She
agrees.

Then Future Altair tells Past Altair that he will need to get Severus to make him a potion to mute the problems
caused by drinking this (hands him the potion that causes him to see auras), promptly smashes all the potions on
the table (sorry Sev) and tells Past Altair to activate the portkey.

Past portkeys away with instructions to screw up the Malfoy vaults and then the Future gets hit by Voldemort's
Avada Kedavra.