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This book was automatically created by FLAG on June 10th, 2012, based on content retrieved from http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5375201/. The content in this book is copyrighted by TheNefariousMe or their authorised agent(s). All rights are reserved except where explicitly stated otherwise. This story was first published on September 13th, 2009, and was last updated on July 7th, 2010. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated - please email any bugs, problems, feature requests etc. to flag@erayd.net.

Table of Contents
Summary 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Ow! 12. Chapter 11 13. Chapter 12 14. Chapter 13 15. Chapter 14 16. Chapter 15 17. Chapter 16 18. Chapter 17 19. Chapter 18 20. Chapter 19 21. Chapter 20 22. Chapter 21 23. Chapter 22 24. Chapter 23 25. Chapter 24 26. Chapter 25 27. Chapter 26 28. Chapter 27
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29. Chapter 28 30. Chapter 29 31. Chapter 30 32. Chapter 31 33. Chapter 32 34. Chapter 33 35. Chapter 34 36. Chapter 35 37. Chapter 36 38. Chapter 37 39. Chapter 38 40. Chapter 39 41. Chapter 40 42. Chapter 41 43. Chapter 42 44. Chapter 43 45. Chapter 44 46. Chapter 45 47. Chapter 46 48. Chapter 47 49. Chapter 49 50. Chapter 50 51. Chapter 51 52. Chapter 52 53. Chapter 53

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Summary
When James and Lily give Harry up for adoption to better train his twin brother, Henry, the false boy-who-lived, Harry is left at an orphanage, until he's adopted... by the Malfoy's! Now, Draco and Harry re-named Adrian are off to Hogwarts!

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Chapter 1
What will happen to Harry when Lilly and James give him up for adoption in order to train his twin brother, Henry, the false boy-who-lived? What happens when the Malfoys adopt him and perform a blood- binding ceremony, in order to make him their real son? What will happen at Hogwarts when the Malfoy boys (Draco and Harry, now named Adrian) arrive, the closest of brothers and biggest of mischief makers? And what will happen with Ron and Hermione? Chapter One: In Motion Somewhere in London, November 4, 1981 The woman hurried through the clustered streets of London, toward the gray stone building in the distance. She pushed through a throng of businessmen in suits and batted away the umbrellas that dripped rain onto her scarlet- red hair, earning several dirty looks from the passersby. But she didn't pause for an instant, for she knew that if she did, she would turn back around and abandon this desperate act and go back home. A taxi rushed past her on the wet street, spraying a bit of water onto her bare legs. She could've taken a cab, she supposed, but this felt like a better way to do this, like a penance before the sin, a punishment for this atrocious thing she was doing. Tears started to mingle with the raindrops pouring down her face. A drop fell onto the small bundle in her arms, causing it to stretch and yawn contentedly and snuggle closer to her. She smiled bitterly, tears streaming more steadily from her emerald- green eyes as she looked down at the small boy in her arms, barely a year old and already somewhat famous, his brother the hero, the boy- who- lived and had defeated the most evil wizard in recent history, restoring peace to her world and ending the "terrorist" attacks on those who were not part of her world. The building was drawing nearer. She was probably only a block away now, but she kept walking, determined to see this through. It wouldn't be fair for him to grow up in his brother's shadow, always the second best. That was why she had to do this, for the greater good. She stopped outside the wrought- iron gate, looking up and the grim building she'd come so far for.
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The dark, but spotless, walls looked somewhat intimidating, almost seeming to ask, "Are you sure?" The small grounds were littered with rusty bicycles and old playground equipment, and the walk to the door had hedges on either side. Huge trees towered over the path, casting it in shadow. Slowly, she pushed the gate open, trying to stifle her sobs. The little boy in her arms stirred again, blinking up at her with sleepy eyes, identical to his mother's, sparkling almond- shaped emeralds under unruly tufts of black hair. His tiny hands reached up at her, trying to touch her face as she carefully set him on the stoop outside the door, setting a large envelope next to him. "Goodbye, Harry." She planted a last kiss on his forehead, rang the bell, and ran off the porch. The boy watched his mother run into the sparse grass, look at him one last time, turn on her heel, and vanish. He began to wail pitifully, searching around franticly, wondering where his mother had gone. Just then, a tall, grandmotherly woman came out the front door. Upon seeing the small, screaming boy on the stoop she sighed, bending to pick him up. "Where's yore Mummy, then, Tyke? Left you, she has, I suppose. Them'll the adoption papers, I'll wager. But don't worry, Tyke, Grammy Nora'll take care of you," she said holding him close as she scanned the deserted grounds. Sighing again, she picked up the envelope that had come with the little boy snuggled into her arms. The envelope read: In Regards to Harry James Potter Unknown Location "Ahhhhhhh, everything is going according to plan." purred a sinister voice. A huge snake coiled around his feet, hissing its approval. Glowing red eyes shone with triumph.
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The plan was in motion..

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Chapter 2
Chapter Two Unknown Location "Lucius, how is young Draco? Doing well, I trust?" "Yes, my Lord, though he seems to be lonely since Annabelle. died," Lucius stammered, pausing at the mention of his daughter, who'd died only a month before in an accident. "Yes, I heard about your daughter. Tragic, really, she would have made a worthy follower," the cold voice replied, trying to sound sympathetic and utterly failing. Lucius could only nod, pushing his sleek blond hair over his shoulder selfconsciously. "I have a job for you, Lucius, and your family." "My family, my Lord?" his gray eyes were questioning. "Yes. At the Johnston House orphanage in London, a boy was dropped off only yesterday. I want Narcissa and yourself to go there and adopt him, raise him, care for him as your own son, a brother to Draco, and no less. Do you understand? This is of vital importance to me, and as such will be handled with the utmost care," the voice whispered. That whisper, though, was more chilling than being submerged in ice water. "Yes, my Lord. We'll go as soon as possible," Lucius said, nodding his head again. "Lucius, he must be loyal to your family. Do not treat him any differently than you do Draco. In this, you will not fail me." "I understand, my Lord. I will not fail you," Lucius said, bowing his head before starting toward the exit. He stopped suddenly. "My Lord, who is this boy?" "That, Lucius is nothing you need to know. You will know him when you see him."
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Lucius snapped his jaw shut, blocking the words that had been about to escape. He again started toward the door. "And, Lucius? Prepare the Blood- Binding ceremony. Contact Severus, and have him make the potions necessary for the ritual." "Yes, my Lord, as you wish." Johnston House, London "What filth," Narcissa muttered, scowling at the huge building through the gate. "What could the Dark Lord possibly want with-" "It is none of our concern, Narcissa, it matters only that he does," Lucius said, pushing the gate open with his cane and striding through, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Narcissa followed, slipping her hand into his and squeezing slightly. Lucius' mouth took on a ghost of a smile as he returned the pressure. They were a complicated pair, loving each other, but never having been in love, still close, both devoted to their children- child-, to each other, and to their master. Upon arriving on the stoop, Lucius rapped the door with his cane and stood by to wait. Both were dressed in Muggle clothing, an expensive black suit and a customtailored dress, looking wealthy but definitely non- magical. An elderly woman answered the door, a small girl hiding behind her long skirt. She smiled kindly at them, exposing a few missing teeth. "Hullo, you must be the Malfoy's. I'm Nora Smith." Lucius held back the remarks he'd been about to voice and attempted a courteous smile. "Yes, Lucius Malfoy, and my wife, Narcissa. We're interested in adopting, as I mentioned earlier." "Yes, of course. Right this way," Nora said, leading them down a narrow hallway. "Confundo," Lucius whispered, putting his wand to her exposed back. A sleepy smile spread across her face. "and we're here to pick up a boy, a brother for our young son. We spoke to you this morning, I believe?" Narcissa said, pulling off a sweet smile.
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"Y-yes, I remember." "We were hoping for a boy of about a year old, preferably one who hasn't been here long," Lucius said smoothly. "Why, a new boy arrived only yesterday, around a year old, too! Isn't it funny how these things happen? And he's such a sweet boy, always smiling, hardly ever cries, and just adorable, big green eyes" Nora smiled happily at them. "Would you like to meet him?" Lucius and Narcissa nodded eagerly, almost genuinely. Draco really was lonely, not seeming to like Vincent or Gregory, the sons of old family friends. She led them up a cramped stair case, and down another narrow hallway before stopping outside a closed door. Slowly, she pushed it open. The room was gray and, like everything else at Johnston House, cluttered and small while still being incredibly clean. In the corner near a tiny window was a worn wooden crib, where a little boy was watching them with interest, a puzzled smile on his face. His hair stood up at odd angles, though it only seemed to make him more endearing, and keen green eyes watched from behind a messy fringe of bangs. Narcissa felt a maternal pull toward the boy as his face broke into a huge smile, raising his arms toward her, wanting to be picked up. Lucius, too, felt a strong urge to protect him, care for him. Nora went over and scooped him up, tickling his round little stomach as he shrieked in laughter, twisting and squirming in her arms. It was obvious he was favored by her. He looked again toward Narcissa and Lucius, holding his arms out expectantly. Narcissa leaned forward impulsively, taking him carefully into her arms. His smile broadened and he snuggled closer, chuckling softly. Narcissa looked over at Lucius pleadingly. He had to be the one they'd come for. He nodded slightly in agreement. If anyone in the midst of this Muggle filth was one who interested the Dark Lord, it had to be this boy, whose charisma was more than human. It was something magical. "He's perfect," Narcissa breathed, and the boy laughed as though he'd understood, burying his face in her shoulder, sighing contentedly.
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Nora, who'd watched the whole exchange, smiled delightedly. "I'm so glad! I have a rather soft spot for this little tyke, and I was hoping he'd get a good home before too long, grow up with brothers and a family who loved him." Lucius nodded, taking the boy from Narcissa's arms and holding him. The boy looked carefully at him, running his chubby little hands over Lucius' sharp features, as if examining him. His green eyes narrowed in concentration, poking Lucius' cheeks and nose. Then, satisfied, he rested his head on the older man's shoulder. "Yes. He's the one." Without pausing, Narcissa raised her wand into the smiling woman's face. " Obliviate."

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Chapter 3
Chapter Three Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire The boy sat in his nursery, playing alone with his first wizard chess set, one designed for babies and toddlers. He sighed. He missed Anna and didn't know where she'd gone. At first, he thought she was playing Snitch-and-Seeker, and he'd toddled around for days looking for her. Then he'd asked Mother and Father where she was, but that'd made Mother cry, so he didn't ask again. He didn't like it when she cried. He'd finally just stopped looking last week, knowing for certain that she wasn't here. A couple of boys came over last week, and Draco had hoped that they would be his friends, but they weren't very nice. All they wanted to do was beat up the Houseelves and break his toys. He liked the elves; they played with him whenever he asked, as long as they weren't doing something else at the time. He sighed again. He was bored with playing by himself. He stood up, wobbling a bit, and made his way to the door, in hopes that Mother would make cookies with him, or Father would teach him more about flying. He smiled at the thought. He really enjoyed flying, the wind rushing past his ears and the weightlessness he felt on his toy broomstick was something that he could never get enough of, which made his father smile at him. He liked Father's smiles, though he didn't see them often anymore. As he wandered through the halls, he remembered that Mother had told him they were coming home with a surprise for the whole family. He hoped it wasn't his Aunt Bella. She was scary and now whenever he saw her, she was bawling like a tiny baby. Even he didn't cry like that, and he was a year old! He hoped they'd bring him something to play with, maybe a new Legends toy. He already had Merlin and Arthur, but he didn't have the rest of the knights or any bad-guys, so the heroes wound up turning on each other.
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And besides, there was no one to play with. Suddenly, he heard a loud pop! He knew that Mother and Father were home, and broke into a stumbling run toward the door. As they entered, he crashed into his father's legs, hugging him tightly around the knees. Chuckling, Lucius scooped him up and hugged him back. When Draco looked over at his mother, he saw a boy in her arms. A boy with messy black hair that stuck up all over his head and big green eyes that stared curiously at him. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing at the boy, frowning slightly. "This is Adrian, Draco," Lucius told his small son. They'd already decided on a name. "He's going to be your brother." Adrian waved at him, smiling shyly. Draco's eyes widened. "You mean he'll play with me and everything? And he can stay here forever?" he asked excitedly. Lucius and Narcissa nodded, sharing relieved looks. Draco was a bit spoiled, and they had worried about his reaction to having a new brother. This was better than either of them had dared to hope for. Lucius and Narcissa set the boys on the floor and watched amused, as they introduced themselves. "I'm Draco," Draco said, offering his hand, "Draco Malfoy." "Adrian," Harry said shaking Draco's hand warmly, grinning brightly at him, "Adrian Malfoy." Draco smiled back, happy to have someone to play with at last. Okay, first off, major thanks to everyone who reviewed! This is my first fanfic, and I was really nervous about it, and the nice reviews boosted my confidence, so thanks! I was really surprised that so many people have already read it. I'll try to post a new chapter at least once or twice a week. I have flu or a cold or something right now, so I have a bit of extra time on my hands. I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I wanted to introduce Draco here, so the next one will be longer.
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-TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 4
Chapter Four Drawing Room, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire "Well, that went well," Lucius said, watching Draco and Adrian run toward the nursery. Draco didn't even need to be told to share his toys. He had offered to. Narcissa smiled, watching them both fondly. "I think Adrian is a perfect fit for Draco." Lucius grinned at his wife. He'd been thinking the same thing. "Dobby! I need you to take Adrian's measurements and then go to Madam Malkin's and get him some clothes. Then go find him a room and furnish it. My wife and I will be gone for a while, so I also want the other House- elves keeping an eye on the boys. Do you understand?" Lucious said lazily. Dobby nodded eagerly. "Good. Get going, then," Lucius ordered. Dobby nodded again and vanished with a loud pop! Lucius sighed and ran his hands through his long hair, looking at the perfectly decorated drawing room which his wife had spent hours renovating when he'd inherited the house. The walls were now a forest green with silver draperies and lighting. The chandelier that hung above the mahogany table was sterling silver and the candles were held in the open mouths of serpents. It'd taken them almost a year to do away with all the depressing colors, tapestries, and furniture, even though they used magic. They kept the family heirlooms, of course, but the dangerous ones were in storage, to keep Draco from getting to any of them, but somehow, Annabelle had managed Lucius sighed again, sinking into a chair. It was his fault. If he'd stored them somewhere more secure, maybe she wouldn't have
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Narcissa came up behind him and stroked his hair soothingly, planting a kiss on the top of his head. "It wasn't your fault, Lucius," she said gently. "It wasn't your fault." He shook his head stubbornly. "Yes, it was! If I'd just put them at another location, there's no way Anna would've. How can you still look at me?" he asked quietly, taking her hand in his. She sat in front of him and looked him straight in the eyes, her sky blues staring into his stormy grays. "Lucius, would you rather I didn't?" He shook his head, staring at the ground, scuffing his feet on the wooden floors. "Then don't question it. Now, we have to go see Severus." Somewhere in Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire "Draco, where are you?" Adrian wandered the halls, hopelessly lost in the huge house. They were playing Snitch-and-Seeker, a game similar to Muggle Hide-and-Seek, except the Seeker (Adrian) had to catch the Snitch (Draco) before they got to the safe zone (the nursery). He heard a muffled giggle off to his left and started running toward a moving drapery that had feet. "Ha! Got you, Drake!" He lunged toward his brother. "Ouch!" "Sorry, Drake." Draco rubbed the back of his head ruefully, looking over at his new brother. He liked him, and he was fun to play with, unless he tackled you. "Can we play at flying? I like to fly," Adrian asked eagerly. Draco nodded enthusiastically. "Let's go see if Father will fly with us!" The two boys raced back to the drawing room, Draco winning only because he knew where he was going. "Where'd they go?" Draco asked, whipping his head around. "Master and Mistress went to visit Severus Snape, Master Draco," called a
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House-elf, appearing right behind them. Draco pouted. "But now we can't go flying! I wanted to show Adrian my broom!" "I had a broom," Adrian said quietly, "At that Other Place, with Henry. I got it from my Uncle for my birthday. He got one, too." "What kind?" Draco asked curiously. He had a Mini-Cleansweep in the toy room, but it was too high up for him to reach. "A Mini-Nimbus, my Dad said." "Wicked! The Nimbus is the best one!" Draco said, looking impressed. Adrian shrugged. "Will you fly with us, Winnie? Please?" Draco begged, clasping his hands under his chin and making a puppy face at the House-elf. "MASTER ADRIAN!" Both boys turned to see Dobby running toward them, out of breath and stumbling on the white pillowcase he wore like a toga. Draco smiled and waved at him. Dobby was one of his favorite elves. "Master Adrian, I have to take your measurements for your new clothes," Dobby explained, a tape measure appearing into his hand. Both boys wrinkled their noses at the mention of clothes. Dobby held Adrian's arms out and the tape measured him by itself. The whole process took only a few minutes, but to Adrian and Draco (who needed new dress robes), it seemed like forever. Dobby wrote down their measurements, smiled, waved and was gone. "I'm glad that's over. Hey, Drake?" "Yeah?" "You're it!"
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Spinner's End, Salford "Lucius, Narcissa, what a pleasant surprise. Do come in," said the greasy- haired young man at the door. He stepped aside and they entered his childhood home, a far cry from what they were accustomed to. The sitting room was small and cramped, littered with piles of books and scrolls. Severus waved his wand lazily across the room, and the books flew to the shelves and the scrolls glided neatly onto his desk. The room only fitted an armchair, a desk, and a small sofa with a coffee table in between. Lucius and Narcissa sat on the sofa familiarly, and Severus took the armchair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Severus, we need you to make a Blood- Binding potion. We've adopted and would like to make our new son a real part of our family," Narcissa said, smiling brightly at him. "I see." "Would you, Severus, my friend?" Lucius added. He'd known Severus since the younger man was eleven years old, and had been a good friend to him through that time. He was even Draco's godfather. "Of course. I haven't seen Draco in quite a while, so I'll stop by when the potions are ready for the ceremony next month," Severus said agreeably. "Thank you very much, my friend," Lucius said, smiling broadly. "You don't know how much this means to us." 'Or how much is at stake,' he thought.

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Chapter 5
Chapter Five Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, 2 December, 1981 In a little less a month, the entire Malfoy house was turned upside down by the arrival of Adrian. He brought the family closer together and kept his parent's on their toes and Draco had a brother to play with. The House-elves loved explaining everything about themselves and anything else he asked about, and he delighted them by eating at least two helpings at every meal. Though Draco and Adrian communicated mostly through baby-talk (all their really articulate speech is baby-talk), Narcissa and Lucius could see that they were best friends, rarely fighting and sharing everything; they even insisted on sharing a room. Lucius also enjoyed having another son, though it wasn't yet official The noise didn't bother him; it only meant that the boys were enjoying themselves. And besides, Lucius reasoned, it wasn't as though they would disturb the neighbors. Narcissa laughed more now, often at her sons' antics, and was seldom seen without a smile on her face. She frequently baked, a latent skill which she had discovered while pregnant with Draco, making anything from simple chocolate chip cookies to crme brulee, with the boys, and though they made a huge mess and slowed her down, she liked nothing better than watching them sneak huge bites of the pastry when they thought she wasn't looking. Lucius, upon learning that Adrian enjoyed flying, went to Diagon Alley and bought him a broom identical to Draco's, and they zoomed around the house, roaring with laughter, whenever they got the chance. Malfoy Manor, once eerie and forbidding, was now a home, filled with the sights, sounds and smells of a growing family. Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, 5 December, 1981 Severus Snape had completed the potion, as promised, and was coming to deliver it. He hadn't seen Draco in quite a while, and though far from affectionate, Severus was fond of his godson, making sure to buy him a gift each Christmas and birthday.
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He also intended to start training him privately before he started school. Snape wondered what had possessed Lucius and Narcissa to adopt a son, and one whose blood status was questionable, at that. He himself was a half- blood, but that was information he tended to withhold from the company he kept. He wondered where the boy had come from. He knew that The Daily Prophet was also dying to know, ever since they'd seen Lucius and Narcissa with two cloaked children at Diagon Alley last month. It was well known that young Annabelle Zezilli Malfoy had died a month before the sighting. The reclusive Malfoy's being out in public was rare in itself, but the whole family out together was unheard of. And just who was that second cloaked child, anyway? Rita Skeeter had already come to him twice asking. The first time, she'd been irritating, rude, and pushy. His mouth twitched at the memory of her second visit. She wouldn't be back again. "Master, Mister Severus Snape is here, with the potions," Dobby said, bowing low. "Yes, send him in immediately," Lucius said distractedly, gazing at the instructions for the Blood- Binding ceremony. He cringed. The ritual really was unpleasant. "Hello, Lucius." He looked up and saw Severus standing, bat like, in the doorway. He'd"Severus, you- you've cut your hair!" Lucius spluttered, the ritual vanishing completely from his mind. [In the wizarding world, a man's blood or financial status was displayed by the length of his hair, at least in the older times. Now, anyone, even Muggles, could wear their hair long, but Lucius' circle of friends tended to keep with the old ways.] Indeed he had. His (clean!) hair now barely brushed his cheekbones, even combed carefully and very neat and stylish. Severus noticed him staring and sighed. "Honestly, I've had the same haircut since I was eleven years old. I'm twenty-one now, Lucius. It's time to move on," Severus said in his bored drawl, though he ran his hand through his hair selfconsciously.
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And time to get over her, he thought. It was time. They were gathered in the dining room, which had been darkened for the ceremony. Severus was in his usual black, his face cast in strange shadows from the self-boiling cauldron he was stirring, the navy blue potion bubbling gently. Lucius stood to his left in a black velvet cloak. Narcissa stood to his right in a flowing black gown that covered her from neck to toes. Draco was in a set of black dress robes with a silver tie across form Severus. They were all gathered around the table. The ritual stated that the joiner (Adrian) had to be seen by the witnesses only just before the ceremony was complete, so Adrian was covered in a black, filmy cloak with the hood up, standing away from everyone else. Severus divided the potion into three silver goblets and paced them in front of Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco, the empty cauldron in the center of the large table. Lucius went first. "Per meus cruor , EGO recipero is puer ut meus filius quod redimio meus vita , meus cruor , quod meus prosapia ut him. Ex iam ut infinitio sit meus filius , reus in cruor. Permissum him similitudo suus prosapia , pro nos es unus. Permissum nostrum cruor run per suus vena quod purgo him of suus quondam vita , quod verum suo nostrum prosapia. Nos es reus in cruor," he chanted, slicing cleanly through his hand with a ritual knife of carved vampire fang and letting the blood run into the goblet of potion. The potion turned a steely gray. Raising his goblet in both hands, he poured the contents into the empty cauldron. His part was done. Narcissa was next. "Ego , quoqutake is puer ut meus filius. EGO vinculum him per meus cruor. Permissum him similitudo suus prosapia , pro nos e es unus. EGO spondeo per meus cruor quod meus vita protego him ex vulnero quod tutela pro him ut meus own filius. Nos es iam suus prosapia. Nos es reus in cruor," she chanted, eyes closed. She took the knife from Lucius and sliced her hand open, letting the blood drip into her own goblet. The potion in her goblet turned a rosy pink, and she poured it into the cauldron. It was Draco's turn. "Capio him ut meus frater , quod mos tracto him ut talis. Permissum him similitudo suus prosapia , pro nos es unus. Quis EGO have , EGO mos partis per him
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, quod ut is postulo mihi , EGO ero procul suus pars. Nos es reus in cruor," Draco said, having been instructed on the difficult incantation for a month. He repeated most of it, but Narcissa helped him at the end. He, too, sliced his hand open and let the blood run into the goblet. The potion turned a vibrant blue, almost too bright to look at directly, and Draco poured it into the cauldron, whimpering a little from the sting of his cut.. At this point, the cauldron began to boil rapidly, the potion changing colors constantly, from black to clear to brown to a fiery red. It stopped boiling as suddenly as it'd begun, and the color remained a liquid gold color that shimmered in the dim candlelight. Severus poured a measure of the potion into a fourth goblet and handed it to Adrian. Adrian took the goblet and recited his part if the incantation, "EGO recipero lemma ut meus prosapia. Permissum mihi similitudo lemma , pro nos es unus. EGO mos partis quis est Mei per lemma, servo lemma, quod tutela pro lemma ut meus own prosapia. Ex iam ut infinitio , nos es a prosapia. Nos es reus in cruor," and pulled off the cloak disguising him. Severus almost choked when he saw the boy's eyes. They were her eyes. But how? And without thinking, Adrian drank the potion in his goblet, down to the last drop. He sank to the ground. Almost immediately, he began to shift and change. His rounded features sharpened bit, his cheekbones higher, nose slightly more pointed. His eyes changed as well, from their startling, solid green. The green formed a ring around the outside of the iris, and a solar flare of the same green formed around the pupils, the middle turning a stormy silver gray with streaks of a dark blue scattered throughout. His skin grew a shade lighter, and his raven black hair from the roots out to the tips turned a light ash blond, though still darker than the rest of the Malfoys. His lips grew thinner and his limbs longer. He lost some of the baby fat he carried, though not much and he still kept his father's unmanageable hair, though it was sleeker now, and longer. The physical changes, however, were not what everyone was paying attention to. It was his screaming that kept their attention. Screams and wails of utter agony that seemed to come from his very soul, bloodcurdling, haunted shouts that made both Lucius and Severus blanch; both seasoned Death Eaters who'd never heard anything like this. He started to thrash on the floor, foaming at the mouth, still screaming.
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"Severus, what is this? What's happening to him?" Narcissa cried, trying to get to Adrian, but Lucius held her in place. "The physical changes are very painful for the joiner. His blood has to change to mix with yours, so he is in pain in every vein, blood vessel, and artery. His heart will beat faster and faster and stop, when he'll stop thrashing. My job then is to give him Pectus pectoris Satus, the heart restoring potion. It'll bring him back around," said Severus, pulling a small vial from his cloak filled with a brandy- colored potion. At that instant, Adrian stopped thrashing and was still. Severus hurried to his side and poured the potion into his mouth, coaxing it down his throat, and pressed his ear to the boy's chest. He was rewarded by the sound of a steady beating, and he picked the boy up gently. Adrian's head and limbs flopped about lifelessly, but Severus knew better. The boy was alive. "Where is his room?" he asked quietly. Lucius pointed up the stair shakily. "Last door on the right, Severus," he said weakly. Without another word, Severus turned and went up the stairs. No one saw the single tear that rolled down his cheek. Oh, Lily, what've I done? What HAS he done? *Bababaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!* Haha, since I took so long to update, you guys (and girls) get an extra long chapter! Yay, you! Oh, here's a picture of what Snape looks like to me in this chapter: Well, I must adjourn to bed, so enjoy, and another chapter should be posted sometime this weekend! -TheNefariousMe PS: I love reviews! Please send me some! I like to hear ideas other than mine, sometimes, so tell me what you really think, because as long as it isn't just mean, that's what'll help me out! Thanks!

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Chapter 6
Chapter Six Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, 12 August, 1991 Malfoy Manor looked much different than it had ten years ago. The formerly bare mantle was now covered with moving photographs. One showed two small blond boys of about two years old sitting on their father's lap, roaring with laughter at a joke told long ago. Another featured the same two boys at about the age of eight with their first broomsticks, arms across each other's shoulders and beaming at the camera. The next showed the same two boys at about nine, grinning at whoever held the camera, laughing heartily and looking into the bundle the taller boy held, their baby sister Marvela. One of the boys was slightly shorter than the other, with longer, darker blond hair and strange gray and green eyes that seemed hardly human behind his square glasses. He had a crooked smile that seemed to draw people in and shook his hair out of his eyes disarmingly. He had sharp, aristocratic features that added to a face that would be handsome when he was older. The other boy was tall and lanky with shorter white- blond hair and a more pointed nose than his brother, but had a straightforward smile that made him just as likeable. They both made funny faces at the bundle and tiny arms poked out of the blanket, waving at them, causing them to roar with laughter. The second-to-last picture was of an adorable baby girl with white curls and clear, ocean- blue eyes reaching toward the camera giggling as a hand reached out and poked her gently in her round stomach, rolling around as someone tickled her. The last was a formal family photo; all of the Malfoy's dressed in their finest robes and looking at the camera haughtily, though they were trying to keep from smiling by the way their eyes shined and their lips twitched, Narcissa holding the little girl, Lucius' hand on her shoulder behind her, their sons to either side, a real and happy family, though they tried to keep up appearances. Usually. "Adrian, Draco, if you don't come now, I'll leave you both here while I go to Diagon Alley and seal the fireplace!" Narcissa called, amplifying her voice magically so it could be heard throughout the house. She wouldn't really leave them, of course, but they didn't know that. She'd left without them before, but only if they took too long. Narcissa had aged 10 years, a few fine laugh lines around her eyes. She felt. freer since they'd adopted Adrian. Draco's childhood, which would have been dim
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and boring, filled only with rants of pure-blood supremacy, had instead been full of laughter and a brotherhood that he wouldn't have had otherwise. Lucius had grown closer to his family, and to her. They'd wanted another child since the boys were five, and the summer before last, Marvela Amandine Malfoy had been born, fascinating her brothers and bringing more joy to the family. The real reason for her happiness was that the Dark Lord hadn't called upon her family since that day ten years ago when they'd taken Adrian in. She felt that she was free, detaching herself from the mark on her wrist, which she kept concealed using a thick silver wristband that had the Black and Malfoy family crests engraved upon it, listing her children's names in a sweeping scroll. The Malfoy's were, after hundreds of years, a real family. A loud thumpthumpthump noise came from the stairs. Narcissa sighed. They always raced down the stairs, and one or the other usually fell (or was pushed so the other could win, she was never quite sure), but it didn't seem to come between them or spark any other rivalries, so she didn't bother with trying to put a stop to it anymore. It was a tradition. "Drake, stop pushing, you cheat! Ow!" Crash! Narcissa cringed. "Ha-ha, Adrian! Can't catch me!" BAM! "Ow! MUM!" Narcissa sighed again. At least they were consistent. It wasn't that Draco and Adrian weren't close; they were very close and the best of friends. But like all brothers, they had a bit of a sibling rivalry going between them. Luckily it was only a race down the stairs, and not something more serious. They were pretty equally matched at whatever they did, and even though Adrian could out fly Draco without even trying, Draco was better at Potions, which they'd been tutored in by Severus Snape, with little effort. Severus had increased the number of visits since they'd adopted Adrian, coming over at least three times a week for dinner and tutoring, teaching Draco and Adrian any number of things from a simple potion to basic defensive magic. Though the boys didn't yet have wands, they had a bit of control over their magic, which was a sign of immense power and concentration.
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That would change after today. Today, they got their wands. When Narcissa got to the stairs, Adrian was smirking at his brother, a fully-fledged Malfoy smirk that he'd evidently inherited through the Blood- Binding ritual. Draco was on the ground, scowling at Adrian angrily, rubbing his knee. "Let's go, boys. Diagon Alley will already be full of Mudbloods and everything else. We have to leave now," Narcissa said, hauling Draco to his feet and lightly swatting Adrian on the back of the head. "Ouch, Mum! He fell! You know what a klutz he is!" Adrian cried, running into the drawing room as Draco lunged at him, his long legs helping his escape. He was a bit clumsy because he'd started his growth spurt and wasn't used to the extra length quite yet, so he often stumbled or broke things, usually injuring himself. Laughing, Adrian leapt into the dormant fireplace, grabbed some floo powder, yelled, "Diagon Alley!" and was gone before Draco could even enter the drawing room. He didn't look it, but Adrian was very fast. Swearing under his breath, Draco grabbed some powder and yelled, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished after his brother. Rolling her eyes resignedly, Narcissa Left a few last instructions to Dobby, who was staying home with Marvela, and followed her sons to Diagon Alley. If I can't keep them calm now, what'll I do when they have wands? Diagon Alley, London Narcissa arrived just in time to see her sons disappear into a crowded shop followed closely by several reporters. She sighed. She and Lucius had kept their children out of the limelight for the most part, though they appeared every now and again, snapshots of the family disappearing into buildings and turning corners trying to avoid the infamy and celebrity that comes from being members of one of the oldest pure-blood families in Wizarding Britain. The boys had been taught from a young age to escape into the nearest crowd when mobbed by the press, and they'd done exactly what they should have. Scowling, Narcissa drew her wand and advanced on the reporters, who were trying to push their way through the crowd after her sons.
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Stopping a mere foot behind the reporter closest to her boys, she pressed her wand into his back, hard. He froze. "Get. Away. From. My. Children," she hissed, accenting each word with a sharp prod to the back. He nodded vigorously. "Now." He dashed off in the other direction, silently thankful that he'd only gotten a scare: it was a well known fact that Narcissa was fiercely protective of her family, and she'd been known to hex anyone who got too close. And that was if they were lucky. "Mrs. Malfoy! Wonderful! Do you have anything to say about your sons going off to Hogwarts this year?" Rita Skeeter asked, pulling an acid green quill from her purse. "Rita, if you as much as look toward that quill while in my presence again, you will be fired," Narcissa said coolly, brushing past her. The threat wasn't a bluff; she had several high-up contacts at the Daily Prophet. She slipped into the store and found her sons gawking at the Nimbus 2000, the newest and best racing broom. They'd been reading about it in Quidditch Monthly for weeks and practically drooled whenever it was mentioned. "Draco, Adrian, let's go to Ollivander's first, then we can go get your owls and robes before we get your books," she said. At the mention of getting their wands, they awakened from their reverie and grinned, nodding eagerly. They'd been waiting for this ever since they'd gotten their letters. They walked down the busy streets, and it was obvious which children were Muggleborn by the way they stared around them liked they'd never seen anything like this. Adrian walked and laughed with Draco and his mother. Suddenly, a boy with unruly black hair and wide hazel eyes smashed into him, causing him to stumble back a few steps. "Hey! Watch it, will you?" the boy yelled, his face contorting angrily. "Are you kidding me? You crashed into me!" Adrian yelled back, rubbing his
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shoulder. "Henry, what's going on?" A woman pushed through the crowd, her bright red hair shining in the sunlight, a tall thin man with the same hair and eyes as the boy right behind her. Adrian squinted through his glasses, looking at the woman closely. There was something about her that seemed familiar "Ah, the Potter's," Narcissa said as she placed a hand on Adrian's shoulder. "I believe that your son owes mine an apology." "I do not! He crashed into me on purpose!" the boy whined, "and he probably used magic to make it hurt more!" "Really?" Adrian smirked, "because I haven't got my wand yet." The boy flushed in fury. "Did he crash into you?" the woman asked, ignoring her son's outrage. There was something about the boy in front of her, something she couldn't quite name that made her want to protect him, even from her own son. Something in his strange silver and green eyes. He nodded, glaring at Henry over her shoulder. His brother behind him bared his teeth menacingly. She heard Henry back up a step. "Henry, apologize." "What? Mum!" "Now." Henry huffed and stomped up to the other boy, inches from his face. "I'm sorry, Adrian," he sneered. "That's alright, Hank, I'll deal with you at school," Adrian said, whispering the last part. "You and what army, Malfoy? I'm the boy-who-lived," Henry smirked.
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"Not for long," Adrian growled. The woman came up behind her son, steering him away. "It was nice to meet you, Adrian. Narcissa, Draco." And with that, the Potter family disappeared down the street. And Adrian was left with a hollow aching in his chest. Ollivander's Wand Shop, Diagon Alley After the meeting in the street Narcissa healed the small bruise on Adrian's shoulder and led the boys into the wand shop. Mr. Ollivander peered at them from behind his desk. "Ah, yes, the Malfoy's. I thought you would be in here before too long," he said in his strange whisper. "Yes, they need their first wands, and we're in a bit of a hurry, so if we could move this along," Narcissa said in a bored voice, though she was almost as excited as her sons and really had nowhere else to be. "Yes, well, we cannot control how long it takes for a wand to choose its wizard, Mrs. Malfoy "Very well." Draco went first, him being the oldest, and tried at least thirty wands before he found the one that choose him. "Ah, hawthorn and unicorn hair, 10 inches, reasonably springy," Ollivander said, handing Draco his wand. Grinning, Draco pointed it at the door. "Coloportus!" The door slammed shut, shaking the windows. Draco grinned again. "Ah, Adrian Malfoy, you'll be a difficult one, I can tell already. No matter, though, I'll find your match," Ollivander said, seeming cheered by the prospect of a challenge.
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If Draco had tried thirty wands, Adrian must have tried at least double that number when Ollivander came back with a box he held almost reverently. "This, Mr. Malfoy, is a wand I've had for almost fifty years. It's an odd combination, holly and phoenix feather, very odd indeed, and its brother was wielded by the most powerful dark wizard in recent history, one who left his Marks, and whom I fear will leave them further in the future," the old man said, his misty gray eyes staring intently at him. Narcissa's mouth went dry. "Perhaps another, Ollivander?" she managed to croak, but Adrian had already taken the wand in his hand. A strong wind whipped through the shop, swirling violently around the stunned eleven year-old in the middle of the shop. Boxes and papers flew from the shelves, the front desk dragging slowly toward Adrian, who seemed to be in the eye of the invisible storm. Ollivander, robes swirling around him, stared in astonishment. Nothing like this had ever happened before. In the history of wand lore, he'd never heard of something like this, let alone seen it, a display of such raw and wild power. The boy would be great. Okay, so how did you likethat? I wanted to re-introduce the Potter's here, and show how different the Malfoy's are because of Adrian and how the ten years have passed for them. How did you like Henry? How'd I do making him into a total jerk? Major thanks toDarkNaruto002, who gaveme a verythought-provoking review, and to all my reviewers who rock for taking the time to give opinions (which I listen to) and ask questions (which I'll answer). -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 7
Chapter Seven Potter House, Godric's Hollow, 12 August, 1991 Lily Potter stared out her bedroom window. She couldn't sleep. Harry was on her mind. She wondered constantly what had become of her son, the one who she'd given away. The one the world had forgotten. Had he been treated well? How had his family reacted when he'd gotten his letter? Was he loved? She sighed, remembering that day ten years ago when Sirius and Remus had come over to see their respective godsons, Harry and Henry. *Flashback* "Lily, where is my godson?" Sirius asked after looking about for Harry. Remus came up behind him, Henry on his hip gurgling happily. "He's not here," she said quietly, a hint of shame creeping into her voice. "Where is he, then?" Sirius asked, slightly irritated that Lily, who was generally very straightforward, was avoiding his questions. "Gone, Sirius. He's gone," she whispered softly. Sirius was more than irritated now. "Well where did he go? Mars? Just tell me, for Merlin's sake!" he shouted. Lily burst into tears, sinking to the floor. Remus, who'd always been the more sensitive of the two, crouched beside her. "Tell us, Lily. Trust us, like I trusted you all those years ago," he said quietly, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. She'd been the only he'd told of his werewolf troubles while they were at school. And she told them everything, from when she and James had first discussed it to the last time she'd laid eyes on her son. Sirius' eyes were a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to breathe. "Do you
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have any idea what you've done to him?" he asked, voice low and seething with disgust, "Do you know what you've done to your son? You've ensured that for the rest of his life, he'll feel the outcast, unwanted by his own mother. I know how that feels, Lily, and so do you. You've done to him what your pathetic bloody sister did to you! What my mother did to me! How could you do that to my Pup?" he screamed, the lights in the house flickering as his fury mounted. Books on the shelves burst from their bindings, papers flying around the room as he used his nickname for Harry, Pup, which is what he was to his godfather. The agony in Sirius' voice was painful to those who heard it. Lily cried harder, not daring to look at her friends. "Where is he?" Sirius asked. Lily sobbed out, "Johnston House," and Sirius was gone, leaving the destroyed sitting room in his wake. Remus said nothing, only handing Henry back to Lily and following after his friend. A few weeks later, Remus sent her a letter stating that the old woman at the orphanage had never heard of or seen a boy with Harry's description, and that he'd have to renounce his title as Henry's godfather to go looking for him. *End Flashback* And that was the last James or Lily had heard fromeither of them. Remus taught at Hogwarts now, teaching the younger students Transfiguration while McGonagall took the older students. Sirius was still roaming the world, looking for his Pup, renouncing any friendship with the Potter's. They'd seen him once, on a vacation to America, but when they'd tried to approach him, he screamed curses at them and Disapparated on the spot, shocking the two Muggles present. Lily teared up thinking about the friendships they'd lost, and wondering if Henry would be the arrogant boy he was if they'd never given Harry up. What if's ran through her mind, taking her breath away as the questions her mind came up with became more and more horrifying. "Stop this," she told herself, "I would know if something happened. A mother just knows."
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But you aren't his mother anymore, Lily. Someone else is. Lily Potter cried herself to sleep, thinking about the Malfoy boys in Diagon Alley, and how the one, Adrian, had been so familiar. Okay, I know this chapter is super short, but this part is important and I felt that this was a good place to answer a few questions, having re-introduced the Potter's in the last chapter. So, Sirius and Remus obviously did not approve of the Potter's giving Harry up in favor of their other son, but they will be a part of the story later on Thanks for reading and the next update should be sometime this week. Remember, your questions and opinions do help me, so review on anything and everything, and I'll do my best to answer your questions! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 8
Chapter Eight King's Cross Station, London, 1 September, 1991 The man walked briskly toward the barrier, dragging his son's trunk behind him. He sidestepped a Muggle, stumbling slightly and cursed softly under his breath. He'd never enjoyed the crowded station, even when he was at school. And now it was his sons' turn. Henry's and Harry's, though only one was with them. No, he had not forgotten his son. Harry, who had his mother's eyes and laugh, but resembled him in every other way, right down to the raven hair that stuck up every which way. The one they'd given away to. well, they didn't know who. But they would after today. Harry was sure to have inherited Wizarding genes, and today, they'd know for sure who'd raised him. Whether or not they cared for him, loved him as they should have. They would see if they'd made the right decision all those years ago. James Potter sighed and broke into an awkward shuffling run, headed for the barrier. A barrier between two worlds that could never be one. He was through. He heard Henry complaining loudly behind him and rolled his eyes skyward as though asking for help. His son was impossible, never happy, arrogant (James grudgingly admitted that the arrogance was a genetic trait), a bully, and, in most cases, a spoiled little brat. But he was his father's spoiled brat, and James loved him anyway. It was his job. "Mum! Let's go! I want to sit in the middle of the train!" he whined. He heard Lily mutter something about "worse than his father" and cracked a grin
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at his wife, who returned it. Even after so many years of seeing her, holding her, she still took his breath away when she smiled that smile; slightly crooked, eyes sparkling with mischief, nose and eyes a little bit crinkled now, but still beautiful in every way. They stood in the haze, waiting for boarding to begin, for hundreds of children to leave their families until Christmas holidays. Did Harry have a family? James shook his head violently and caught sight of a small family waiting only a few steps away, tall, blond wizards. Malfoy's. James' eyes narrowed, glaring subtly at the younger boy, the darker one. Adrian. The one who'd threatened his son. He was laughing and kissing a wailing bundle goodbye, shoving his brother playfully. His parents looked on, proud smiles on their faces as they watched their sons. They were good looking kids, James gave them that, and they walked with the effortless grace of gifted athletes, Quidditch players, probably. Henry hated Quidditch, hated flying. James had almost cried when he heard that his son hated to fly. Did Harry like flying? Did he even know how? Was he any good? More families were piling into the station, greeting each other warmly and laughing. Most of them were, anyway. A few old families hung away from the crowd, looking at the others with disdain. James rolled his eyes again, glad that the Potter family had dropped the blood supremacy fixation long ago. As in several hundred years ago. The Malfoy's stayed where they were, ignoring the noise around them as they said their goodbyes. James' eyes roved across the station, looking for Harry.
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He was nowhere to be found. He caught Lily's eye, amber meeting emerald, and she matched his distress; they'd wanted to see both their sons go to Hogwarts. Henry, of course, had no memory of Harry. The day they left him, Henry asked where his "bwuver Hawwy" was, and they told him that Harry went away. He'd never asked again, didn't even remember that he had a brother, much less an almost-identical twin. Except for the eyes. He had Lily's eyes. The Malfoy boys boarded the train, waving cheerfully, sending off fireworks with their wands. And they were gone, looking for an empty compartment on the soon-to-be full train. Henry was getting impatient, wanting to go with his friends, who had already boarded. "C'mon, Mum, I want to go! Why are we just sanding here?" Their eyes met again, a silent conversation going on between them. Henry huffed impatiently. He hated it when they did that. "Alright, Henry, you can go. But we'll need hugs, and letters, and, uh, jokes, and pranks, and everything," James said, stooping down to his son's level, their identical eyes locking. Henry smiled and nodded, allowing himself to be pulled into a tight hug, and surprising James by hugging back. He turned to his mother, who looked a little weepy, gave her a genuinely sweet smile, and buried himself in her robes, squeezing her as hard as he could. He could be a good, sweet, honest kid when no one was there to analyze his every move and put it in the news, James reasoned. It must be hard. Pulling away, he smiled at her again and bounded toward the train, grabbing the handle of his trunk as he went. "G'bye! I love you!" he yelled, and he was gone.
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They stayed until they couldn't see the train anymore.

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Chapter 9
Chapter Nine Hogwarts Express, England/ Scotland, 1 September, 1991 Adrian levitated his trunk onto the rack and plopped into his seat across from Draco. They'd chosen a compartment near the back to avoid some of their fellow students, namely Henry Potter, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe. They were so stupid. They'd been talking for a few minutes when the door to their compartment slid open. A tall, gangly redhead with a slightly overlong nose looked at them nervously. "Can I sit in here? Everywhere else is full." Adrian smiled, and Draco did the same. They'd been raised as respectable purebloods, and so were nothing if not polite. Draco gestured to where he sat and moved next to Adrian. The boy smiled gratefully and sat down, adjusting his worn robes self-consciously. "I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley," he looked down, as though ashamed of his name. Draco and Adrian shared a glance. They knew about the Weasley's, of course; poor, pureblooded like them, with a lot of children. They were also huge supporters of Muggle Rights. Adrian reached across the compartment, offering his hand. "Adrian Malfoy," he said warmly. Ron took his hand and shook it. Draco followed suit. Adrian was generally a very good judge of character, and he trusted his brother with his reputation. "Draco Malfoy." Ron looked a little surprised as he shook Draco's hand. "I've always heard that the Malfoy's were dark, arrogant, and cruel." "Well, we've heard that the Weasley's were childish, arrogant, and, ah, followed their leader like sheep into the slaughterhouse," Draco replied, a slight flush of anger and embarrassment creeping into his face. "Not me, Malfoy. I'll be remembered as more than Charlie's brother, or Bill's or
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even Percy's little brother. I won't be just another Weasley. I'll outshine them all, my Mum and Dad will see," he said tensely, his ears turning red. The Malfoy's shared another look. This was a very different Weasley than they'd expected. Just then the door burst open. A girl with bushy brown hair stood framed in the doorway, a round-faced boy right behind her. Both had traces of tears on their faces. "C-can we s-s-sit here?" the girl asked, hiccupping through her tears. "Sure," the boys said in unison, making room for the two. Ron moved next to Draco and the newcomers sat across from them. Their formerly empty compartment was becoming quite full. "What happened to you two?" Adrian asked, conjuring a tissue and handing it to the girl. "Th-this idiot k-k-kicked us out of our compartment, and called me a Mudblood. I t-told him I d-didn't know what that was, and he said that I was t-too stupid to be a witch and they'd send me back!" she sobbed. Ron stiffened, as did Adrian, Draco, and the round-faced boy beside her. "Who?" Adrian asked quietly. He didn't like to see anyone cry, even if he was a Malfoy, and neither did Draco, though he had a bit more self-control than his brother. Adrian was very impulsive, almost as reckless as a Gryffindor. "Someone in our year, brown hair, big," she shrugged, her crying easing up somewhat. "Looked a bit like an ape." Draco looked at his brother. "Goyle," they breathed together. "Gregory Goyle?" He's the dumbest excuse for a wizard I ever had the displeasure of meeting," Ron scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "Don't listen to him." "What he do to you?" Adrian asked the boy. "It wasn't him, it was the other one. He- he squashed Trevor, my dad's toad. He stepped on him and killed him, and laughed and splatted his guts on me," the boy
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said, teary-eyed. There was indeed what appeared to be toad smeared across the front of his shirt. "I'm sure your dad'll get you a new toad. They aren't too expensive," Adrian offered kindly. The boy shook his head and looked out the window silently. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and this is Neville Longbottom. You are?" the girl asked, holding out her hand. They introduced themselves and quickly began talking and joking amongst themselves. As the snack cart came around, everyone pitched in and they bought half of the delighted witch's stock and shared it, laughing as Hermione encountered her first chocolate frog, screaming and jumping into Ron's lap, which he didn't seem to mind overmuch. They'd howled with laughter and she claimed that it wasn't funny, but her lips twitched, suppressing a smile. Eventually, the talk turned to Houses. "I think Ravenclaw would be best," Hermione said wistfully, and began to tell them all about the history of her desired House when Ron interrupted her. "I dunno where I'll be. My whole family's been in Gryffindor for generations, but I don't really want to be in it. I want to be different," he said, his words growing louder as he went on, as if to reassure himself that he was different. "I'll end up in Hufflepuff, I just know it," Neville said miserably. They tried to reassure their new friend, but he would have none of it, convinced that he was a born loser. "Slytherin," Draco and Adrian said together, grinning in anticipation. The others looked shocked, angry, or amused. "The Slytherin's have the most fun." Ron shook his head. "According to my bothers- I mean brothers, they have the most fun." The others roared with laughter as he described his brothers' antics, from the mediocre (when they were small) to the extravagant (as in more recent years), to the complete genius (always). Neville then told his story about when he was discovered to be a wizard and not a
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squib, which had everyone laughing. "You- you bounced?" Ron asked, still chuckling. Neville nodded, grinning. "I wonder where we are," Adrian said, looking out the window. The sky was streaked with orange and purple in the failing light of the setting sun. "Well, no one really knows the exact location of Hogwarts. All the wizarding schools guard their secrets zealously, and so they're Unplottable, as well as being impossible for Muggles to find. I read it all in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione said. "We should change into our robes; I think we'll be there soon." She left and the boys changed in silence, each nervous, but each too proud to admit it. Once they'd changed, Hermione came back in and they talked quietly for the rest of the journey. Hogsmeade Station, Scotland, 1 September, 1991 "Firs' years! This way, firs' years!" The five piled off the train, following the voice that boomed through the station, jostled and bumped by other students. And they saw Hogwarts for the first time. The castle was visible across the dark lake, lighting up the night like a thousand candles. "Wow," they said together, staring openmouthed. They gathered around the source of the voice, a huge man with long black hair and an even longer beard who had ink-black eyes that twinkled warmly in the light from his lantern. "Firs' years, this way. Four to a boat, one with me. Le's go!" They followed him down a cliff path to a beach at the side of the lake where a fleet of small boats was waiting. Draco, Adrian, Ron, and Neville climbed into one boat, and Hermione went with the huge man, who they learned was called Hagrid, waving nervously as Hagrid shifted his weight, tipping the boat.
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The journey across the lake was silent, the only sound being the waves lapping against the boats. The journey only took a few minutes, and soon they stood in the Entrance Hall, looking about them nervously. Behind the massive wooden doors, hundreds of muffled voices echoed, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Adrian swallowed hard. For the first time in his life, he felt small. "Good evening," a voice said behind them. "I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. In a few minutes, you will join your Houses for the feast, but first, you must be sorted." Ron let out a quiet moan, and the other four snickered at him. Professor McGonagall was a witch of average height, though she somehow seemed much bigger that she was. Her graying hair was pulled into a severe bun and she wore emerald-green robes with a matching hat. She wasn't old, at least by wizarding standards, probably only 60. "While at Hogwarts, your House will be your family," she continued, ignoring the muttering that had erupted. "Good behavior will be rewarded with House points, and any misbehavior will result in the loss of points. The House with the most points at the end of tem wins the House Cup, a great honor to whoever wins it." The five friends looked at each other in anticipation; friends or not, they wanted that cup. "Please follow me into the Great Hall, where the sorting will take place," she said, flicking her wand at the doors. They creaked open slowly. There was silence throughout the hall. Being taller than most of the other students, Draco and Ron saw a hat on a stool at the front of the hall. "What's that about, mate?" Ron whispered. Draco shrugged, wondering the same thing himself. The hat, as though hearing them, began to sing, a mouth opening near the wide brim.
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"Oh you may not think me pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart; You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
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if you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folks use any means To achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap! But I beg you, please, Heed my words before I depart: By the end of term, Only Blood Brothers true Can save us from the coming Dark." The applause was scattered, and confused murmuring resonated throughout the hall. "First Years," McGonagall said sharply, "when I call your name, come up and you will be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!" Abbott, Hannah was sorted into Hufflepuff after only a moment. As the names came and went, the five became more and more nervous. "Granger, Hermione!"
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She gulped and sat on the stool, swinging her feet nervously. 'Ah, yes, a brilliant mind, fiercely determined.' the voice whispered, and Hermione knew that only she could hear it, 'Very loyal as well, but I think you'd do best in...' "RAVENCLAW!" The Ravenclaws whistled and yelled their approval, and her four friends clapped, glad that she'd gotten into the House she'd wanted. More names were called, until "Longbottom, Neville!" was to be sorted. He strode up the stairs, sat carefully on the stool, and pulled the hat over his head. 'Ah, a Longbottom. Loyalty runs deep, and you aren't afraid to do what's right' the Hat said, thoughtfully. "GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor table cheered their newest member, and Neville was positively beaming. The others clapped as well, and awaited their own turns. MacDougal, Morag was next, and then it would be Draco and Adrian's turns. "Malfoy, Draco!" Draco smirked and swaggered up to the hat, plopping it onto his head. "SLYTHERIN!" the Hat screamed only a moment after he put it on. Draco smirked again and went to join his fellow Housemates. I'm ready, Adrian thought, taking a step toward the Hat. "Moon, Maxwell!" Adrian stopped dead in his tracks. What?
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Draco stood up to protest, but Adrian shook his head violently, so he sat back down, silently fuming. Moon, Maxwell went to Hufflepuff, and there were only a few students left now, including Henry Potter, who looked very confident. A few more names were called, and then "Potter, Henry!" Whispers erupted once again. "The Henry Potter?" "He's here?" "I can't see him! Move over!" Henry made his way to the hat, pulled it over his eyes, and sat. And sat. And sat. "Geez, he must've been up there for ten minutes now, mate," Ron whispered to Adrian, who nodded in reply. Suddenly, the Hat boomed "HUFFLEPUFF!" as Henry screamed, "NO!" The hall was silent, a few claps coming from the Hufflepuff table. The boy-who-lived was in Hufflepuff? Adrian snickered. Soon, Ron was up. Adrian gave him the thumbs up and waited. Ron, like everyone else before him, sat on the stool nervously at let the Hat cover his face. 'ah, another Weasley, but so much different than the others. Oh, you like being different, don't you. So ambitious, so bitter, so fearlessly determined to show them
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all what you are you're a different breed of Weasley altogether' the Hat whispered to Ron thoughtfully. 'It'd best be' "SLYTHERIN!" There was no clapping, only a stunned silence. A Weasley in Slytherin? Unheard of. Ron's brothers at the Gryffindor table glared at him as he trudged to the Slytherin table and sank into the seat next to Draco's. Everyone else moved away from him. Zambini, Blaise was the last to be sorted, and then Adrian was alone. A tall wizard with flowing silver hair stood up, smiling. Dumbledore. "Now that we've got everyone sorted-" "Hey! What about me?" Adrian yelled, hands on his hips. "I haven't been sorted yet!" Dumbledore frowned slightly. "My apologies. You are?" "Adrian Aetius Malfoy," he replied. Dumbledore looked puzzled. "You weren't Sorted?" Adrian rolled his eyes. "No." "Well, we'll sort that out immediately!" Dumbledore beamed, beckoning the boy to the stool. Adrian huffed and came forward. He sat on the stool, and let the Hat cover his face. 'Another Malfoy? Hmmm, my, my, boy, you are a difficult one lets us dig a bit deeper' the Hat said. 'What's this? Too much conflict' Adrian shifted uncomfortably. He felt hundreds of eyes on him. 'What to do, what to do I-' "I CANNOT SORT HIM!" Adrian's eyes went wide.
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"HE IS AT WAR WITHIN, THOUGH HE DOES OT KNOW. I CANNOT SORT HIM!" Adrian pulled off the Hat, but heard it whisper its last words to him. 'What are you?' Okay, I know that this chapter was really long, but if I'd split it up, it wouldn't have been the same. Anyways, this chapter was really hard to write. Major thanks to DarkNaruto002 for once again helping me out! Please, please, please review, because reviews make me happy! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 10
Chapter Ten Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland, 1 September, 1991 Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, thinking about the shocking events of that evenings feast. First, Henry Potter was in Hufflepuff. Not that there was anything wrong with Hufflepuff, of course, but shouldn't the boy-who-lived be in Gryffindor, or at least Ravenclaw? Then, the youngest of the Weasley boys had been Sorted into Slytherin and seemed pleased! Young Ronald was one to be watched. And then, more shocking than all the rest, was the second Malfoy who couldn't be sorted by the Hat. As far as Dumbledore knew, no such thing had ever happened. This new Malfoy, this Adrian, was to be in his office immediately after the feast. The feast had been over for an hour now. Dumbledore knew several languages. It was a tradition in some of the older wizarding families to be given Latin or Greek names, and it was so in the Malfoy family. Adrian meant 'dark one'. Somewhere in Hogwarts, Scotland, 1 September, 1991 "Ouch, Drake! Quit it!" Adrian said loudly as his brother elbowed him again. Draco scowled at him as he set his wand flat on the palm of his hand. "Point me!" he yelled at it. The wand spun and spun and didn't stop until Draco closed his fist with a sigh. "Well, I'm lost. 'Let's not ask where the Headmaster's Office is, we can find it,'" he mimicked irately. "Any more bright ideas, Ade?" Adrian rolled his eyes and kept walking. When his brother got like this, it was best to let him rant. Any acknowledgment only fueled the fire. "Well, we are in trouble, aren't we, boys?" Their blond heads whipped around, and they found themselves face to face with Argus Filch. His rancid breath almost made them gag, and his stubbly jowls
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quivered in anticipation. "Oh, my, my, the little Malfoys out after curfew on the first night. Bet yore Daddy won't like that, eh?" He smirked. Draco's face paled in the flickering light, but Adrian only smiled pleasantly. "We were told to go to the Headmaster's Office, but we got lost. Could you show us where it is, Sir?" Filch's smirk turned into a scowl. "Oh, you were, were you? We'll see about tha-" "Mister Filch, I was sent by the Headmaster to locate these boys," Snape said, placing his hands on each of their shoulders protectively. Filch seemed reluctant to let them go without any punishment, but released them nonetheless, shooting an evil glare at their retreating backs. "Thanks, Professor, we got lost, you s-" Snape turned to them once Filch was out of sight and fixed them with a look they'd never seen directed at them before. "You should have asked a prefect or myself for directions," he said in a low voice. They gulped unconsciously, Adrian rubbing at the birthmark on his chest out of nervous habit. Without another word, he swept down the corridor, his cloak flowing about him like wings. Draco and Adrian had to jog to keep up with his rapid pace. When they arrived at the gargoyle, Snape said only, "Lemon drop," before he headed back the way he'd come. They went up the stairs and knocked tentatively on the big oak door. "Come in," came the reply, and they took a breath and entered. There were instruments everywhere, in all shapes and sizes, and the faded red walls were covered in large- apparently sleeping- paintings. A fire roared in the fireplace, making the room cozy and just a bit stuffy. There was a large mahogany desk with a tall armchair where sat the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Dumbledore smiled at them over the top of his glasses. "Good evening, Mister Malfoy, or should I say Mesers Malfoy? I see your brother has accompanied, you, Adrian." Draco grinned sheepishly.
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"No matter, no matter. Adrian, you find yourself in a very unique position, as do I; you cannot be sorted by the traditional method, so I must employ an ancient practice," Dumbledore said, studying him closely. "I have to interview you and place you myself. Please sit down." Adrian sat in a plush overstuffed chair that he could've sworn wasn't there before he'd blinked a moment ago. "What kind of interview?" he asked, a little apprehensive. Seeming to sense his discomfort, Dumbledore smiled again. "Just a few simple questions, really. Nothing to worry about," Dumbledore watched his eyes swivel to his brother for a half second and dart back. He smiled understandingly. "Draco, would you please wait outside my office? I'll give you a pass so that you won't be sent back to your dormitory, if you wish." Draco nodded and Dumbledore smiled again. True to the rumors, these brothers were inseparable and obviously the best of friends. He filed that away in his mind as Draco closed the door. His gaze fell back to Adrian. "Let us begin. If you were tested on a subject you had not been prepared for, what would you do?" "That depends. Whose fault is it that I am unprepared?" Adrian asked reasonably. "Your professor is at fault." "I would bring it to their attention that they had not taught us some of the things we were tested on in a calm and reasonable manner." "And if they were to ignore you?" Dumbledore pressed. "Then I would, ah, let them know they were at fault." "How?" "A few pranks or something," Adrian shrugged carelessly. Dumbledore smiled wryly: that could be any House. "If you saw your best friend attack a person for a crime that you had committed, would you help the innocent woman and confess or go along with it?" "I'd stop him, of course! I wouldn't necessarily confess, but I wouldn't let him
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attack some woman just because I was afraid! I'm no coward," Adrian said, his silver and emerald eyes flashing with indignation. "I never said you were," Dumbledore said gently. He knew now why the Hat had so much difficulty placing him; he didn't think like the average eleven-year old. He deducted everything into simple common- sense problems and solved them easily with his reasoning: a trait of a Ravenclaw. "You are humiliated by a prank played on you in front of all your classmates: what do you do?" "I'd get them back twice as bad. No one humiliates a Malfoy and gets away with it! He'd be lucky if he could walk when I was through with him." 'Then again,' Dumbledore thought wryly, 'perhaps I thought too soon!' The rashness of a Gryffindor and the cold vengeance of a Slytherin. The pride could fit any House. "If you caused an accident that could get you into serious trouble if you were caught, would you stop to help the other people injured or run and let them take the blame?" Adrian's brow furrowed in thought. He didn't seem to have a ready answer. Dumbledore began to think that they were finally getting somewhere when the boy thought of a reply "I'd help them, then Obliviate them so they thought they'd caused the accident," he said with a smirk. Dumbledore groaned internally; this would be a very long night. Outside the Headmaster's Office Draco swung his feet back and forth as he sat waiting for Adrian. He wanted his brother in Slytherin with him. Adrian was sneakier than Draco, but far more rash, not stopping to think before he reacted, just charging headlong into whatever trouble lay ahead of him, and damn the consequences. Draco smiled as he remembered the first time he'd come across a boggart. They'd been exploring every room in the Manor when they were eight, which took longer than they'd expected. They'd just entered a room that looked like it hadn't been used in years when Draco tripped and the closet opened with a bang! Draco
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had looked up to find a tall, cloaked figure wearing an ornate silver mask with his wand drawn and pointed at Draco's heart. He'd seen this man before, when he was very small. He'd frozen; this was his worst fear. Adrian, however, had lunged at the figure and, through a burst of underage magic, tackled it to the ground. Their parents burst in moments later to discover their younger son kicking the shit out of a cloaked, masked figure, who they realized was actually a boggart, and Draco laughing hysterically. They were never quite sure how Adrian had managed to tackle the boggart in the first place. The door to the inner office didn't open for almost an hour. Draco was slumped in his chair, half asleep, when Adrian poked him awake with a grin. Draco rubbed his eyes quickly and stood. "Wheredidheputyou?" he asked quickly. Adrian smirked. "Slytherin. Ssssssssss!" Draco and Adrian laughed and started toward the dungeons. They knew where those were, at least. Now, was it right or left? Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, 1 September, 1991 Dumbledore rubbed his eyes wearily. He didn't know if he'd done the right thing, putting the boy into Slytherin. There was something about his answers that just didn't add up. He knew now what the Hat had meant by conflicted. The boy was smart, already knowing the uses of several advanced spells, and he was loyal to his family to the point of utter stupidity. But he was also cunning; in every one of Dumbledore's moral questions, he had an answer that helped the person and kept him out of any real danger or trouble. And most confusing of all, his cunning incorporated immense bravery and quick thinking that was rare in someone so young. He'd answered one question involving danger to his brother with, "I'd rescue him, of course! I don't care if it was you-know-who that had him, he's my brother!"
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And his actions were just as baffling. He'd been raised by one of the most prejudiced families in England, yet he had no qualms about befriending a Muggleborn. He was reactive as a bomb, but calculating as an Unspeakable. And he was unbelievably powerful for someone so young, if Ollivander was to be believed. He was a mystery in a world of magic. And that made him dangerous. He would be watched as well. Whoooooo! Okay, before y'all kill me, I have to apologize to jabarber69for accidentally lying to you! Sorry! Okay, now, before you ask, no, I didn't put Adrian in Slytherin temporarily, he's actually in that House. However, Dumbledore can't get a 'feel' for his personality, making him difficult for Dumbledore to Sort and impossible for the Hat. He's a living contradiction! I hate to do this to you guys, but I'll need more reviews for the story before I post the next chapter, where a certain werewolf might just make an appearance.. Okay, I'm done being evil now. Carry on with your day. -TheNefariousMe

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Ow!
Bound by Blood

Author: When James and Lily give Harry up for adoption to better train his twin brother, Henry, the false boy-who-lived, Harry is left at an orphanage, until he's adopted... by the Malfoy's! Now, Draco and Harry re-named Adrian are off to Hogwarts! Rated: - English - Family - Draco M. & Harry P. - Reviews: - Chapters: 53 Words: 69,562 - Updated: 07-07-10 - Published: 09-13-09 - Status: Complete Review this Chapter

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Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven Hufflepuff Common Room, Hogwarts, Scotland, 2 September, 1991 He sat in an armchair, brooding. He'd wanted Gryffindor. The people here were polite, even friendly, but he'd wanted Gryffindor. He shuddered to think of his dad's reaction. He was the bloody boy-who-lived! He was brave, and certainly reckless, boundlessly loyal to his family. Why couldn't he be in Gryffindor? He moved the chair closer to the fire, shivering in the cold. The common room was somewhere in the center of the huge sprawling building, the door in the same corridor as the passage to the kitchens. No one else was awake yet. He smiled sadly. Every morning, his dad made everyone a huge breakfast, singing in a wobbly tenor as he fried the eggs, graciously ignoring the many jokes about his singing. The Potter family was up and about by six each morning, laughing and joking when the rest of the world was still sleeping. The world of Hogwarts was sleeping. Sighing, he pulled a ball out of his pocket. At least, it looked like a ball. It was a Rememberall of sorts, except that instead of glowing red when something was forgotten, you held it when you were feeling lonely and it would show you who or what you were missing in a continuous cycle of your own memories until you felt better. It was his mother's own invention, and used a small amount of legillimency. It also had the unique ability to trigger smells and sounds, textures, even tastes from those memories. Lily had finished it a week before he went off to school; the prototype, the original, was their going away gift to him. He looked into its rounded surface and saw himself at about five running through the yard chasing a huge stag, screaming at the top of his lungs. He felt his feet pound against the ground, although they didn't move, and distantly heard the clatter of hooves. He saw his dad dancing around and cooking bacon as he sang, his mother rolling her eyes and laughing at this particular tradition. He heard the frying pan sizzle and his dad's subpar voice, and smelled the delicious scent of fresh bacon.
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He saw some of the training sessions that had peppered his childhood, though he didn't know why he was in training. Still, it was a part of his daily life, and had been since he was eight. Sometimes, he wondered if he was being trained like a soldier for a war, as most of the stuff he learned was offensive, with almost no charms or transfiguration. The thought made him uncomfortable and he pushed it aside. All of these memories were happy ones, like when his mother had taught him about potions (he especially liked potions), or when his dad brought home magical creatures to show him. He'd liked hippogriffs the best; the demanded respect or they showed you none. Then, he saw something he didn't recognize; he was his nursery, standing up in his crib. His mother was smiling down at him. The memory was blurred around the edges, and the faces and objects appeared as though he was seeing them through water or smoke. His father was across the room, a green-wrapped bundle in his arms. He reached up toward his mother, whimpering slightly, and she picked him up effortlessly, cradling him in her arms. She walked over to James and they pressed their foreheads together, smiling at each other. The bundle in his father's arms was a boy, a boy who looked very like he did, except that this boy's eyes were a bright, acid green. They had the same hair, black tufts of fuzz that stuck up everywhere, same round baby faces, same facial features. The other boy smiled cheekily at him, green eyes twinkling. "Mumma!" he heard himself coo. She smiled at him. "Da!" he gurgled, and his dad poked him lightly in the stomach. He giggled and touched the other boy's face. He could feel the softness of the baby's skin on his hand. "Hawwy!" The boy, Harry, touched his head and his smile broadened. "Henwy." What? He felt an odd sensation, like falling from a warm, cozy room into a pool of ice water and shuddered slightly. He had fallen out of his own mind. It was not a sensation he'd enjoyed. "Alright, Potter?" Henry turned and saw a concerned fourth-year looking worriedly at him. What was his name? Fredrick? No, it was- 58 -

"Cedric Diggory." Cedric's chestnut hair fell into his gray eyes, and he looked to have just rolled out of bed, as he was still wearing bathrobe and slippers. "Wha- Oh, er, yeah, I'm fine," Henry mumbled distractedly, looking hard at the ball in his hand. "You were just staring at that Rememberall, totally blank. Thought you were having a fit or something," Cedric said, glancing curiously at him now that it seemed he was fine. "Oh, um, I just forgot something that might be important," he said, ruffling his hair, a nervous habit he'd inherited from his father. Cedric nodded sympathetically and stood up, stretching. "I'd best get dressed. It's about time for breakfast, you know." Henry nodded and slipped the as-yet-unnamed invention into his pocket. He was already dressed. "Could- could you show me where the Great Hall is?" He half expected Cedric to refuse, but he only smiled. "Yeah, I couldn't find it my first day either. It's no problem." Maybe being in a house full of friendly, loyal people isn't so bad after all he mused. I know, I should die a slow, painful death for making you guys wait for such a short chapter, but my thumb is finally healed once again, and I've gotten over my rather bad case of writer's block (something I suffer often, I'm afraid). But, I'm back now and the story will continue at a semi-normal pace from now on! Thanks for sticking with me through the two week drought! (also, I apologize for the utter lack of Mooney! I know I hinted at it, but I wanted to rank this out pretty quickly now that I'm better!) -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, 2 September, 1991 Adrian rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He felt hundreds of eyes burning into his back. Ron looked on with mild sympathy, and Draco showed no visible reaction, though Adrian could tell that he was wound tight as a coiled spring, ready to be at his brother's side in an instant. He couldn't see Neville, but he and Draco had no intention of letting some stupid rivalry between Houses get between them and their new friends. Crabbe and Goyle had tried to cozy up to them last night, but a well-placed jinx -or eight- quickly convinced them that the youngest Malfoy's had no interest in any kind of friendship or association between them. Adrian wasn't the only one experiencing this unsettling event. On the other side of the Ravenclaw table, Henry Potter, the boy-whose-title-requires-hyphens was experiencing the same issue. He, however, had grown up in the spotlight and was more accustomed to its glare. Cedric sat a few seats away, having taken the younger student under his wing, and kept the conversation light and off the subject of the Sorting, Henry, or anything that would make Henry any more uncomfortable than he already was. She noticed all of this, and frowned. Both Potter and Malfoy (Adrian, that is) seemed to compel people to follow them, suggesting untapped charisma skills. They also had several similar habits. They ruffled their hair, rubbed their necks, scratched their chins, and smiled in the exact same way, if not for the same reasons. The Potter boy seemed in a hurry to get to his lessons and away from the many eyes in the Great Hall. She smiled at this. Hogwarts had humbled him, if only slightly. The Malfoy boy was laughing with his brother and friends, a Ravenclaw girl and Gryffindor boy having joined them after they'd finished eating. The other Slytherin's were avoiding them, looking at them with disgust and disdain. They didn't seem to care about it a bit, continuing to laugh and joke as though there were no one else there. She smiled as the lanky redhead beamed down at the girl and threw his arm over her shoulders. She looked irritated, but they didn't notice the twitch at the corners of her mouth. The brothers were having a friendly argument about something trivial with the Gryffindor. She chuckled, startling the second year next to her. The girl looked at her with widened brown eyes and shifted over slightly, her long ink-black hair shining in the light as she did so.
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She sighed. No one seemed to really like her much. Ravenclaws were an odd bunch, though, and she usually just brushed off their avoidance, but seeing these five together made her feel colder than usual, and she drifted out of the hall sadly. Transfiguration Room 1, Hogwarts, Scotland, 2 September, 1991 "First years, please sit down!" a voice called firmly through the chaos of the classroom. Draco and Adrian sat next to each other at the nearest table, and were pleased to discover that Hermione (along with the other Ravenclaw first years) shared their first class of the day. She sat just in front of them, Ron at her side. Though they were all friends, these two were closest to one another, as they agreed on most topics and debated the ones they didn't. "Welcome to Transfiguration, I am Professor Remus John Lupin," the voice called again. The first years looked around, but their teacher was nowhere to be found. A deep chuckle echoed through the room. "Look here," he said. The voice came from near the desk. Suddenly, the chair behind the desk sprang into the air and began to shift as it crashed toward the ground. Just as it hit the ground, a tall man stood in its place, beaming at the gaping class, his wavy, light brown hair the same color as the upholstery from the chair. "Hello there!" he cried, his tawny eyes shining with excitement. Adrian looked at him with interest. Scars ran across his face, not disfiguring him at all, and his once-black robes were now a very dark gray, tattered at the hem. Sloppily sewn patches were apparent at the elbows. Dobby would faint if he saw this man teaching his young Masters. The thought made Adrian chuckle. "Is there something particularly funny, Mr. Malfoy, or are you just being rude?" Adrian jerked his head up, startled, and found himself looking directly into his professor's eyes. He stared. There was somethingodd in Lupin's eyes, something wild. Something that wanted out.
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He gulped. "N-no, sorry, Professor, just a joke I remembered." Lupin crossed is arms and grinned at him. "What was the joke? I myself can always do with a good laugh." "Um, I forgot it." Lupin nodded thoughtfully. "It happens to the best of us. Now class, I'm going to start you off easy. Today, you'll be transfiguring a matchstick into a needle." Hermione raised her hand so quickly that she almost hit Ron in the face. Chuckling, Lupin called on her. "When will we learn to do human transfigurations, sir?" she asked eagerly. Beside her, Ron rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his face. "Not until your sixth year, Miss Granger. Human transfiguration is very dangerous, much too much for a first year to handle," he said, still chuckling. For the next half hour, the class attempted to change the matchsticks. Hermione succeeded in only five minutes. "It's all about intent! Focus your magic! Force it to do what you want it to!" Professor Lupin called as he walked around the room. "Manipulate it! It's your power! Use it!" Adrian glared through his glasses at the matchstick on his desk. He cleared his mind, as their "Uncle" Severus had taught them to. He saw a Needle on his desk in his mind's eye, and waved his wand subconsciously. When he opened his eyes, there was a needle on his desk in place of the matchstick. He smirked at Draco's incredulous look, and returned Ron's nod of acknowledgement. Hermione beamed up at him. He leaned back in his chair, looking smug. When his first class had left, Remus Lupin closed the door with a frown. That Adrian Malfoy was odd. Obviously very intelligent, and cocky as they came, but also very close to all his friends. There was something else as well: he smelled familiar. With Remus' heightened sense of smell, no smell ever went forgotten. And this boy smelled like Harry, but like someone else as well.
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He sat on the edge of his desk, eyes narrowed. He thought that it was about time to investigate the youngest Malfoy boy.

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Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, 2 September, 1991 "Drake, it's this way!" Adrian called to his brother, frustrated. "No, it isn't! I remember father saying that it was on the seventh floor!" Draco called from above. "Oh. Sorry, Drake," he said, sheepishly ascending the stairs. Draco had been a bit testy ever since he'd been able to transfigure the matchstick first. Draco had figured it out only a minute or two later, but that wasn't the point to Draco. They were currently sneaking up to the Gryffindor common room to cause a bit of trouble (they'd warned Neville to stay away). Ron's twin brothers were their targets. They'd come up to their table at lunch today and started yelling that he was a disgrace to the family name and that his parents didn't want a son in Slytherin. They also mentioned that he should stay away from them and their sister (who Ron was closest to in his family) so that he didn't screw her up, and that he was a lost cause, being in the "Dark House". Being a Slytherin, Ron didn't cry at the table. He waited until he was finished with his food and went into his dormitory. All he wanted was acceptance from his parents, as Ron, not another Weasley, and his own brothers say that to him? They would pay. They'd been planning this all afternoon, and they had two hours until they had to be back to their common room. That was plenty of time for them. The boys threw a cloak around them and disappeared. They'd gotten their own invisibility cloak for Christmas last year, and had decided that this was just the type of emergency that their mother had described when it had been presented to them. The cloak itself was translucent red and black, and big enough that they could both use it for many years to come. They waited beside the portrait, holding their breath in anticipation. Eventually, a barrel-chested second year came lumbering along the corridor, dirty blond hair
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clinging to his sweaty face. "Caput Draconis!" he spat at the painting, obviously furious about something. His mood wasn't about to improve. The hidden door swung open, and the boy entered the common room, followed by two Slytherins. The targets were lounging in front of the fireplace. Draco and Adrian grinned wickedly at each other. It was perfect. As one they hexed the twins and threw the several dozen dungbombs they'd smuggled into the school. They then tossed a few Filibuster fireworks into the flames for good measure. "Coloportus!" they whispered, sealing all the exits (the doors to the corridor and dormitories) as well as the windows. They cast the charm several times each, adding their own twist on the charm, making it impossible for anyone to reverse it but them. The common room was chaos. They sat in the window, enjoying themselves thoroughly, tying not to laugh as they snapped photos of the uproar in Gryffindor tower. The Weasley twins roared with rage as they were suddenly covered with dung. Their hair was singed by the explosions from the fireworks, and they smelled to high heaven. Snickering, they moved carefully through the panicked Gryffindors. There was no one at the door, and they made their great escape, still laughing. These pictures would be gold. Library, Hogwarts, Scotland, 2 September, 1991 "You what?" Hermione hissed. Ron was sobbing with laughter beside her, and Neville was rolling on the floor, howling. A few tables away, Henry Potter was hiding a smile. Draco and Adrian smirked. "It was my idea," Draco said proudly, and Adrian clapped him on the back. His brother was the strategist of the two of them. Adrian
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simply had dumb luck on his side. "How did you get in there, anyways?" Hermione asked, ever the sharp minded Ravenclaw. "We used our invisibility cloak," Adrian whispered, glancing at Potter, who was pretending not to listen. "Where in bloody hell did you get one of those?" Ro asked, eyes wide. "It was our Christmas gift last year," Draco said, shrugging. "Our parents bought it for us." Ron's jaw dropped. Hermione looked about ready to ask another question when the librarian came to their table and ushered them out of the library, claiming that they were much too loud. They didn't mind overmuch. Hogwarts, September, 1991 The next day only heightened the prank for three Slytherins, as every Gryffindor (except Neville) was avoided like the plague: they still reeked of dungbombs. The rest of the school had heard of the "Ninja Exploding Dung Incident" by now. Most found it hilarious, though there were some (Hermione) who thought that it was a childish act to be ashamed of. But she was the only one who thought so, and she'd never tell. They enjoyed the rest of the day, especially when a few Gryffindor idiots accidentally blew up half the potions classroom. Snape had said that they had detention until they were able to see the grounds outside from his classroom. His class was in the dungeons. Adrian liked Charms and Transfiguration, while Draco could outsmart him in potions and DADA. Professor Quirrel was reallyodd. It was pretty obvious that the stutter was fake, and no matter how many Wingardium Leviosa's they cast at it, his ridiculous purple turban wouldn't come off of his head. And the way the turban stank of rotten meat, the boys weren't sure that they wanted it to.
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Adrian could've sworn that the turban actually growled menacingly at him once Okay, that's a wrap! I hope you enjoyed my story! Just kidding! This is a shout out to anyone who can draw: DRAW ME ADRIAN MALFOY! I'd really like to see your impressions of him! Thank you to all those amazing cool reviewers, and I'll probably post another chapter this week! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 14
'He wears midnight like a cloak.' Chapter Fourteen Somewhere in Europe, 8 October, 1991 The streets were completely dark and deserted, though the chatter of families in the houses that lined the narrow path could be heard faintly. The smells of spicy foods and crisp fall air filled him with longing. He had a family, once, but they had messed it up for him. They ruined it. He was only trying to fix it. After ten years, he still couldn't give up. Sudden movement to his right caused him to crouch, muscles tensed. A huge man with a knife sprang at him, but he was ready. He quickly disarmed the man with a smashing left hook to the shoulder, rendering it immobile. He crouched and swung his foot around in an arc, cracking the man's femur on impact. He cast a silencing charm on the man and stalked off into the night. A hawk swooped down upon him, and he held out his arm. The hawk screeched and dug its talons into the sleeve of his leather coat, scratching his arm slightly. He frowned in puzzlement as the hawk extended its leg. There was a letter addressed to him. Barely able to contain his excitement, he leaned against a tree and slid down until he was sitting on the damp grass. With shaking fingers, he opened the letter. I may have found something -M He hastily wrote a reply and sent the hawk on its way. Grinning widely, he stood and turned on the spot. He vanished, with only a seriously injured man and a resounding crack! that echoed through the emptiness to suggest he'd even been to the small town.
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He was going home at last. Okay, I know that this is areallyshort chapter, but there is more to come! Thank you to everyone who reviews! Also, thank you to all my loyal readers! Many of them have been with me since the beginning, and I really appreciate their continued support! Remember, reviews make for a happy writer! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, 20 October, 1991 She watched them again. They always seemed so happy. So together. So at home. She had never felt that way here. This place was her prison and her sanctuary. She deserved worse than prison for what she'd done all those years ago. The darker Malfoy, Adrian, fascinated her. The other followed him and his brother almost without question. They were all talented witches and wizards, with the seeming exception of the Longbottom boy. He had power, such raw power, but it would remain untapped until he discovered it for himself. The Potter boy was lonely, though. He saw through the false friends and hangers-on who gathered around him, close to only a few people. She smiled. It was a good thing that the boy wasn't stupid. She was glad that one of his friends was Cedric Diggory. He was such a nice boy. Two more little Slytherins had joined the multi-house group, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. Blaise was a tall black boy, even taller than the youngest Weasley, with high cheekbones and slanted gray-geen eyes (nothing at all like Adrian's). Daphne Greengrass was short and very slender with long legs and dark brown hair cut into a short bob. She had to brush her long bangs out of her eyeswhich were a strange violet blue- every few seconds. She sighed as the girl laughed, a light, happy sound. Greengrass would be a beauty when she was older. She wondered if anyone had ever laughed with her like that. She couldn't seem to remember. It'd been so long. But even if she didn't remember, she highly doubted that she'd had friends like these. Suddenly, the Granger girl turned her head and waved, smiling uncertainly uncertainly. She ducked her head, embarrassed at being caught watching. But she
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couldn't help smiling all the same. Someone had noticed her. She drifted away from the table and out of the Great Hall, still smiling. "Who are you waving at, Hermione?" Ron asked, looking at the Ravenclaw table where his friend had been waving. "I-I'm not really sure. There was a girl there only a moment ago," Hermione said, a puzzled frown on her face. She was cute when she did that, her nose got little wrinkles in it and her eyes got all squinty. Ron looked down at the table, his face turning scarlet and his ears going hot. "I don't see anyone, Granger." "There was someone there, Ronald! I saw her!" Uh-oh. Now she was angry. Ron hastily backtracked. "Well, what did she look like?" he asked reasonably. By now, the rest of their friends were listening. Hermione blushed. "I'm not really sure, actually. She was. Oh, I can't remember with all of you staring at me!" she said irritably. "I'm going to the library." "Don't stay too long," Adrian called after her. "We've got our first flying lesson tonight!" "Oh, come off it, Ade," Draco scoffed, nudging his brother. "Everyone here but Hermione has been flying since they could hold a broom!" "I know that, idiot, but I want to see if she's any good," Adrian replied. Glancing up, his face morphed into that Malfoy smirk they were all becoming used to. "Look at little Potter, Drake, I think he's going to be sick!" They all looked over at Henry Potter. He did indeed seem greener than usual, and his face was covered in sweat, though he was shivering. "It looks as though the-boy-who-lived has a fear of flying," Blaise said, mischief lighting up his eyes. "What if he does? I'm not so fond of flying myself, you know," Neville said. Over
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the past few weeks, he'd been becoming increasingly confident, speaking up more and going with the flow less. He was still the least powerful of them, but they didn't mind. As Adrian often pointed out when they helped Neville with various school subjects, it's all about heart. Adrian threw his arm over Neville's shoulders, smiling at him. "Don't worry; we won't do anything to him tonight, Nev. Promise." They respected Neville's understanding of others, especially his compassion for other's fears. Hermione stated that he would've made a great psychologist. Whatever that was. Hogwarts Grounds, Scotland, 20 October, 1991 Daphne Greengrass was arguing amicably with Hermione Granger over the benefits of their respective houses. Both girls would soon be the envy of their classmates as they were close friends with some of the best-looking boys in the year. And don't think those boys didn't know it. Adrian and Draco were future blond gods, Ron had the brooding, misunderstood thing going for him, Blaise was a model, and Neville was simply adorkable with his big brown eyes, shy demeanor, kind heart, and ready smile. Currently, they were laughing at some guy joke or other. Daphne rolled her eyes as a few girls giggled and whispered among themselves when Draco flashed them his million-galleon smile. Henry Potter stood a few feet away from the boys, looking somewhat lost. He wasn't really friends with anyone in his year, mostly just older kids in his house. He glanced over at her friends longingly every once in a while when he thought no one was looking. For someone so famous, he sure was alone. Daphne felt a pang of sympathy for him. Until she'd been "adopted" by her friends, she'd been lonely too. Maybe they'd adopt him as well. One thing was for sure, though: Madam Hooch was taking forever! Suddenly, Crabbe and Goyle sauntered up to Henry and roughly knocked him to the ground. Henry sprawled awkwardly, his glasses flying off his face. Crabbe stomped viciously on Henry's glasses. There was an audible crunch as the glasses crumbled beneath the weight. "Tell your filthy Mudblood mother that our fathers say hello, Potter. They should
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be visiting her soon," Goyle snarled. There was only one reason the senior Crabbe and Goyle would go to the home of a Muggleborn: violent, brutal murder. They'd only escaped Azkaban because they'd been under the imperious curse at their trial, but there was no doubt that they were ruthless killers, imperioused or no. Adrian and Draco turned, faces twisted with rage, Ron and Blaise right behind them. Neville hadn't heard what was going on yet, but he was getting a general idea. Daphne winced as Adrian's normally light, sparkling eyes seemed to glow with surging power, the whites tuning an opaque obsidian black. He raised his wand before anyone could even blink and howled his rage. There was no spell there, merely intent. Crabbe and Goyle's wands imploded in their hands, driving splinters deep and leaving some rather nasty burns that went up to their elbows. "Go. Away. Now." Daphne shivered. That voice wasn't Adrian's. It was a guttural snarl that sent fear to her very core. And he was one of her best friends. They nodded, whimpering and took off toward the school. Adrian turned to Henry and extended his hand. "All right, Potter?" Potter nodded, eyes squinting. Adrian grabbed Henry's mangled glasses from the ground and tapped them lightly with his wand. They mended in a soft glow of light, and Adrian handed them to their owner without a word. "Thanks," Henry muttered, looking at the ground. Adrian smiled weakly, shaking from the magical outburst. "Don't mention it." "MISTER MALFOY, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO? HEADMASTER'S OFFICE! NOW! AND TWENTY POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!" Madam Hooch bellowed. Adrian groaned and trudged toward the castle.
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"That's what he gets?" Draco murmured scathingly. "Detention and points taken away for accidental magic? And that was while he was trying to help someone!" "You know, Draco? I'm beginning to think that our dear friend Adrian has I dunno, a saving people thing," Ron said, glancing sideways at Henry Potter. "Yeah," Draco said, watching his brother's rapidly shrinking form proudly. "He does."

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Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland, 20 October, 1991 Dumbledore sat behind his desk, silently watching the boy in front of him. The boy himself looked a bit pale and shaky, but defiance glinted in his eyes, his messy blond hair tumbling onto his sweaty forehead. The headmaster had heard an account of the incident from several different people and had no doubts that this boy hadn't been aware of what he was doing. As had been argued by all the students present, it was obviously an accident. But all the same, accidental magic was rarely so explosively powerful. It was time to see what this boy was made of. He'd heard all the reports, of course; friendly, polite, funny, popular, and at the top of all his classes. He was cocky, of course, and a tad arrogant, but always stood up to those who mistreated others. He and his brother's ever-growing group of friends were smart, funny, and powerful, with some very influential names thrown into the mix. Young Daphne's family owned the Daily Prophet and almost every Apothecary in the country, while Longbottom was the sole heir to a vast (hidden) fortune. Blaise Zabini was heir to several fortunes and various businesses, his late stepfathers' (he had seven, all of whom had died mysterious deaths) enterprises. Weasley, though poor, was of a line of purebloods that ran back to at least the tenth century, and Miss Granger was an exceptionally brilliant for one who had entered their world only a few months ago. And now, it looked as though Henry Potter was slowly being accepted into this eclectic group as well. It was a good thing too, as he didn't seem to have many friends. He shook himself out of his thoughts to see that the boy was looking at him, his glare calculating through his glasses. "Well, Mister Malfoy, what have you to say for yourself?" he asked, fairly certain of the boy's response.
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"It was an accident, but I would've done it on purpose if I'd known how, and I'm not sorry," Adrian said, still shivering slightly from the magical outburst, the defiance never leaving his gaze. Then again, Dumbledore thought wearily, he has surprised me at every question thus far. Why should he fit my expectations now? "And what exactly did you do, Adrian?" he asked softly, genuinely curious. The boy's face scrunched up in a strange mix of emotions, confusion, concentration, and something that looked very much like fear. "I-I'm not sure, exactly. See, last month, Professor Lupin said something about intent during his lessons, and it kind of stuck with me. So I began experimenting with it, the idea of it," he said, looking down at his hands. "I found out that a lot of magic is intent, and not an incantation. But you have to mean it, Professor, beyond all hesitation and doubts." He looked into the older wizard's eyes. "You really have to mean it." "And what did you mean to do?" Dumbledore asked, keeping the shock out of his voice and off of his face. "I- I only meant to scare them away, to make them leave Hen- Potter alone. But then, there was this- this voice. In my mind." He shivered violently. "And it burned on my chest. It hurt them." Dumbledore gulped. "Could I see where it hurt, Adrian?" "Sure," he said. With shaking fingers, the boy undid his shirt. Dumbledore bit back a cry of shock, for on the boy's chest, from sternum to navel, was a huge sunburst scar of raised red and purple flesh, the swirls seeming never-ending and the rays stretching across his ribs and over his shoulders. He swallowed hard. "How- how did this happen," he asked hoarsely. Adrian shrugged, and buttoned his shirt. "It's just a birthmark, sir." Dumbledore nodded absently, knowing full well that this was no birthmark.
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He watched as the boy left his office, closing the door quietly behind him, and dropped his head into his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. Who was Adrian Malfoy?

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Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen Seventh Floor Corridor, Hogwarts, Scotland, 30 October, 1991 Neville Longbottom was lost. Not only lost, but lost after hours. He knew he was on the seventh floor, but that was about all he knew. He'd just gotten back from the Quidditch pitch, where Adrian and Draco had been giving him a flying lesson. (Ever since that outburst at their official flying lesson, Adrian had been being avoided by everyone but his seven close friends and (oddly), Henry Potter. He'd been followed by whispers in the halls and at meals, and had taken to wearing the invisibility cloak whenever out in public.) They were excellent, whereas he was lucky if he could stay on the broom for more than two seconds. They'd offered their invisibility cloak to him, but he'd declined. He sighed in frustration as he glanced around. He must've seen that stupid tapestry of the dancing trolls three times now, and all he really needed to get to a dormitory before one of the professors found him. But he was so lost. He sank to the floor, tears of frustration filling his eyes. He looked up and saw a door before him. Funny, he thought, stumbling toward the door, I don't remember that door being there. He pushed the door open to find a dormitory, complete with a king-sized four poster bed, roaring fire, several chairs and couches, tables, books, and a bathroom off to the left of the door. "What the? Where did this come from?" he asked the empty room in amazement. He was about to leave, but the bed looked so comfortable, and he was so tired, and his trunk was already in there. And so he crossed to the bed and passed out as soon as his weary head hit the pillow. Great Hall, Hogwarts, 31 October, 1991
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Hermione looked around the tables, worry etched on her face. "Where is Neville? I promised to help him with his History of Magic homework!" "And he promised to help me with Herbology," Ron muttered, glaring moodily at his shepherd's pie. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and continued to scan the Great Hall for their missing friend. He hadn't shown up for any classes that day. Draco and Adrian were searching for him with Blaise, and Daphne was going up to the Hospital wing. Just in case. "Hullo!" Hermione yelped and fell backwards off her chair, while Ron spat food across the table and onto Neville's formerly smiling face. "Blech! Ron! Augh, disgusting!" Neville spluttered, wiping his face and making a face. "NEVILLE, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WE'VE BEEN SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!" Hermione screamed, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "IF YOU EVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN, I'LL STRANGLE YOU!" "I think you already are, Hermione," Ron snickered, watching Neville's face turn from pink to res to purple to blue. " 'elp!" Neville gurgled. With one last squeeze, she released him, and he fell gasping onto the tabletop. "Where were you, mate? Everyone got really worried about you," Ron said, giving his friend a questioning look. "Well, after my flying lesson, I got lost-" "Oh, Neville!" He shot Hermione what he thought was a withering glare and continued with his story. "I got lost, and I found this really cool room" Room of Requirement, Hogwarts, 31 October, 1991
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"Wow!" "Neville, how did you find this place?" Ron asked, taking in the squishy armchairs, sofas, ottomans, and rugs grouped around a massive fireplace, where the burning wood crackled and sent a pleasant, smoky aroma through the huge room, where bookshelves lined the walls. There were enough broomsticks (albeit old ones) leaning against the back wall for each of them, and he had no doubts that there would be plenty of room for them to fly around under the hundred foot ceilings. As a matter of fact, Adrian was testing out one of the newer brooms with Daphne right now "!" they screamed, their toes brushing the tops of their friends' heads. Daphne squeezed her eyes shut and gripped Adrian's waist even more tightly as he twisted them into a barrel roll and soared toward the endless ceiling. He stopped them only inches from the ceiling. "Do you trust me?" Adrian asked her over his shoulder, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Uh, I think so?" she gulped, looking down at the floor. They were well over two hundred feet above the stone floor. "Good, then hold on, and don't you dare let go of my hand." "Ade, what are going to dooooOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Without warning, he jumped off the boom, taking her with him. He held her out to his side, broom grasped in his other hand, and fell through the air parallel to the ground, his adrenaline pumping so heavily it made his head spin with glee. On the ground, everyone but Draco looked on with growing horror as they watched their friends plummet toward the ground. Daphne knew that she was going to die. There was no point in denying it. She'd always been much too trusting, at least for a Slytherin. She couldn't shut her eyes, and tears ran up into her hair. The floor was less than 15 feet away now, and they showed no signs of stopping or slowing down. "NYEAH!" Adrian pulled her onto his back and threw his leg over the broom,
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pulling up so fast it gave her whiplash. Laughing, he did a back flip on the broom and skidded to a stop on the floor. He helped her off and brushed the hair back off her face. "I thought I was going to fall," she said stupidly, shaken up from her plunge. "I'll never let you fall, Daphne," he said, grinning cheekily at her. She smiled sweetly at him, threw her arms wide, and knocked him unconscious with a rather nasty right hook. As he faded into oblivion, he distantly heard the words, "If you'd killed me, Adrian Malfoy, I would've haunted you until the day you died!" Okay, this is kind of a fluffy filler chapter, but I wanted them to find the Room of Requirement, as it will be a character as alive as they are in this story. Always remember, reviews make me really happy. If you have any cool ideas, don't be afraid to PM me, alright? Peace,Love, and Ice Cream! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, 31 October, 1991 Nursing a throbbing eye, Adrian made his way to their normal seats at the table, throwing a smirking Draco death glares as often as he could, which only made his brother smirk all the more. Scowling, he plopped into his seat and glared at the empty plate before him. He was always in a foul mood after being beaten at something (a Malfoy trait), especially when he was beaten up. Especially when he was beaten up by a girl. Not that he would've fought back, anyways. He believed that hitting a girl was about as low as you could get, even if she started it. Sighing, he turned to the staff table. A smiling Dumbledore was making a longwinded speech about the great history of Halloween. Ron sulked, wanting none of the frivolities and fanfare that generally came with Halloween. He was here for the food, for his friends, and, well, for the food. Seeing the expression on his friend's impatient face, Adrian had to smile a bit. "Where's Daphne?" Neville asked, glancing around as he took a seat next to Ron, Hermione close behind him. "I thought she was right behind me." "She was. She went to clean up her hand," Hermione said, sitting on Ron's other side. Blaise rolled his eyes and moved over to make room for her. "She's in the bathroom-" "TROLL!" They turned to see Professor Quirrel stumbling up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. "TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!" he bellowed. He swayed on his feet dramatically,
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eyes rolling crazily in their sockets. "Thought you ought to know." And with that, the overly-excited DADA professor toppled to the ground, unconscious. And the Great Hall erupted into chaos. Screams and cries of terror mixed with the scraping and booming of toppling benches. "FOLLOW YOUR HOUSE'S PREFECTS TO YOUR COMMON ROOMS! NOW!" Dumbledore shouted, amplifying his voice with the same spell his mum used sometimes. The six friends began to scatter when Blaise, eyes wide, shouted, "Daphne! She doesn't know about the troll!" As he watched the looks of horror cross his friends' faces, Adrian pulled out his wand, jerked his head toward the doors to the corridor where the bathroom was, and ran like a maniac. He burst into the deserted corridor, looking around wildly. He rounded the corner to see a hulking gray figure slip into the girl's bathroom. "Shit." He heard footsteps behind him and turned, only to be sent sprawling by his brother and best friends. "Ow!" "Oh! Sorry, Ade." He picked himself up and dashed into the bathroom, his friends close behind him. As soon as the door opened, a smell the likes of which he'd never encountered almost made him throw up. Retching, he looked around and saw a sight that nearly stopped his heart. Daphne was cowering against the sink, sheer terror etched on her face as the mountain troll towered over her, raising its club for attack. "Daphne! Move!" Adrian screamed, throwing a swift stinging hex at the troll.
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It roared with rage, and grabbed Daphne in its panic. "HELP ME!" she yelled at them as the troll swung he around like a rag doll. "Hang on!" "Well what else am I going to do?" she screamed. Ducking and rolling, Draco and Adrian maneuvered themselves so that they were behind the troll, who was swinging its club with wild abandon. Turning with a speed that belied its bulk, the troll faced them, a deafening roar erupting from it. The brothers struggled to keep their footing on the water soaked floor. "Surculus Telem!" Draco yelled, pointing his wand at the troll's massive chest. Small black arrows shot out of his wand and struck the troll in the chest. Howling, it flailed in death throes and flung Daphne from it. Screaming, she hurtled toward the brick wall behind the brothers. "ADE!" Ron bellowed, pointing at the tiny brunette. Adrian leapt backward, snatching his friend out of the air. They landed with a painful thud, water splashing and soaking their robes. She landed on top of him, so he took the brunt of the impact. "I thought I was going to fall," Daphne said, shaking from the freezing water and adrenaline. "I told you, I'll never let you fall," he said, flashing the same cheeky grin at her. "What happened in here?" The seven turned to find McGonagall standing in the (shattered) doorframe, clutching at her heart. "What happened to your eye Malfoy?" "That was me, actually," Daphne said, raising her hand proudly. Their professor, usually so levelheaded, was truly shaken by the sight of the dead mountain troll taking up most of the space in the bathroom. The friends tuned to look at each other and were surprised to find that they were
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covered in water, dirt, sweat, and troll blood. Professor Snape was right behind her, panting. His short black hair clung to his sweaty forehead. He also appeared to be limping. "What happened to your leg, Uncle?" Draco asked, using the name for Severus he'd used since infancy. Everyone but Adrian, who also referred to him as Uncle, was looking at Draco like he'd been clubbed over the head after all. Snape's leg indeed looked like a bloody piece of steak, and he quickly hid it within his robes. Snape grimaced at the term, but managed to grate out in a pained voice, "There is nothing wrong with my leg, Malfoy. Why did you not follow the headmaster's instructions?" Six of the children before him shuffled their feet, water sloshing into their shoes. "We didn't know if Daphne knew about the troll, because she was in here, and we were worried, so we came over here to get her, but the troll went in before we did," Blaise explained breathlessly. "They really did save me, Professors," Daphne added. "Ten points deducted from each of you!" Snape spat, obviously spurred on by the pain in his leg. "And twenty points to each of you, except Miss Greengrass," Professor McGonagall smiled (actually smiled!). "For selfless bravery and noble stupidity!" They all grinned at each other, amazed that they were rewarded for this. "Dismissed," Snape hissed. The seven first-years scampered through the door and into the corridor. "You know, Adrian, you have to get over your saving people thing," Draco drawled. "It might be contagious." "My what?" Okay, I'm guessing there are many questions. Ask away.
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One that I will answer is about the arrow spell. Yes, it's real, I checked. It's supposed to be a second-year spell, but the Malfoy brothers have had previous training in many aspects of magic. Any others, feel free to ask, and I'll try my best to answer (unless the answer would give away something important, of course. Then I'll just send you a mean little teaser email! Mwahahahahaha!) -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen Room of Requirement, Hogwarts, Scotland, 1 November, 1991 "Hermione?" "Yes, Neville?" Hermione said, not looking up from her book, one of the ones she'd found in the secret room. They were in hiding. The entire school was in an uproar over the fact that seven first years, most of them Slytherins, had killed a fully-grown bull mountain troll. "I was reading. About, ah, mountain trolls? A-and all the books say that they're really stupid," he stammered, holding a thick leather-bound book. Neville had been especially shaken up by the fight with the troll and had been reading up on them all day. "Yes, that's what I've read as well," she said, turning a page. "Well, if they're so stupid, how'd it get in?" Her brow wrinkled in thought. "I've been wondering about that myself. There's no way it could have gotten past the wards alone." "What're you saying, Hermione? That someone let it in?" Blaise asked, picking his head up from where he was sprawled on the floor. "Who would've let it in? None of the other students have that much power or control." The three glanced at Adrian, who was playing a game of two-a-side Quidditch with Draco, Ron, and Daphne. He swooped and caught the snitch the room had provided them with expertly. "I don't think that it was a student," Hermione whispered. Blaise's eyes widened. "You you think a professor did this? Why in bloody he-" "I don't know! But who else would be able to, Blaise? We can rule out McGonagall, Snape, and any other professors who were at the feast," she said thoughtfully.
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"We already knew that it wasn't Uncle Severus, Hermione," Draco said, landing lightly beside her and straightening his robes. "Yeah," Adrian said, landing on her other side and shaking his wild, shaggy blond hair and fixing his glasses, "He'd never do anything like that." "Fine, but besides Quirrel, which professors weren't at the banquet?" Hermione asked as Daphne and Ron also landed nearby. The fire rose and heat spread through the room. More armchairs and cushions appeared as the hebdomad settled in the room. "Ah, Professor Sprout wasn't." "She was in the Hospital wing with a second year that didn't put his earmuffs on properly when dealing with mandrakes. It's not her," Neville said, shaking his head firmly. "Professor Sinastra wasn't." "Neither was Flitwick." "Lupin wasn't there," Adrian said quietly. "He's been out of class all week, mate. What is it with you two anyways?" Ron asked, looking at his friend curiously. "You seem to hate him, even though he's the best teacher in the school." "I don't hate him, Ron, I just don't trust him. He's hiding something, something. dangerous," Adrian said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You didn't see the way he looked at me the first day. It was eerie, like something in him wanted out. Wanted me." His friends looked skeptical. "That's just because you, Hermione, and Draco are the smartest in our year, Ade," Daphne said dismissively. "I saw that, Adrian's right. He was either glaring or staring at you all through the first lesson," Draco said, coming to his brother's defense. "He sniffed you, too." "What?" Adrian cried. Draco nodded. "Yeah, he sniffed you like a dog and then gave you this really weird look."
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"Well, I think it was Lupin as well. He hasn't been in class all week, and now there's a troll in the castle? That can't possibly be a coincidence, can it?" Hermione asked them. Neville frowned. "But he's so nice, even to me. When Seamus blew up part of the classroom last week and blamed me, he knew I didn't and fixed my eyebrows." "We're not saying that he's not nice to you, Neville, we're just thinking," Blaise said calmly, ever the peacemaker in their ragtag group. "And I'm not going to suspect anyone who can fail me." "I agree with Neville. There's no way it was Lupin or Sprout. I think it was Grubblyplank. She'd know all about trolls, wouldn't she, being the Magical Creatures expert?" Daphne said. They all looked at Ron who lounged back on his cushion comfortably. "I agree." "With who?" Adrian asked impatiently. "With whom," Hermione corrected him. Adrian glared and Draco and Daphne snorted back laughter. "All of you have good points. I think that Professor Lupin is hiding something, and Grubblyplank would have the knowledge to lure a troll into the school. But I think that it was Flitwick." "WHAT?" Ron shrugged. "Well, he's the Charms professor. Didn't Hermione say that all the wards around the school would have to be breached for the troll to get in? What if he simply altered them?" That stumped his friends. They knew that Ron was clever and cunning, but to throw in a theory of his own and support it? Unheard of in an impulsive Weasley. Then again, he was the first Weasley in centuries to be placed anywhere but Gryffindor, let alone in Slytherin. Who knew exactly what he was capable of? Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, 2 November, 1991
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She watched them again. Today, they sat with Henry Potter. They included him in conversations, listened when he spoke, and laughed at his rare and exceedingly wry jokes. He belonged. And she was alone again. For a while, they'd been alone together, though the young hero had been as unaware of her as everyone else was. But it hadn't lasted very long. She didn't resent him for it. She didn't want him to be like her, alone forever. She'd wanted him to have friends. But did it have to happen so soon? After all, she was fairly certain that his mother wasn't disappointed in him in the least. With a sigh, she let go of the boy and drifted out of the Hall. Alright happy (I hope) citizens! I'm sorry I took so long, but Marching Band consumed my life and I was unable to tear myself away. We placed Top Five at States last weekend!*faints, is awakened by sister's smelly basketball sock being shoved against face* Okay, I'm good. Just a bit band-geeked out. What I really wanted to tell you guys is that my 13-year-old brother figured out who the ambiguous "she" was yesterday, the watcher. And as far as I know, he is the only person in the world to do so. I know what you're all thinking, and no, I didn't tell him, he guessed all on his own.
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I want guesses people! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Hogwarts, Scotland, 8 November, 1991 "P-please o-open your b-b-books to p-page one-hundred and twenty," Quirrel stuttered. The first year in the back row rolled his eyes. This stammering was getting old. He could just write it on the board. Hell, he could magically turn to that page for them. Sighing, he flipped to the page and waited for the rest of the class to do the same. Across from him, an Indian girl chatted with her friend, glaring at him every few seconds. He sighed again. Why did no one understand that it wasn't his fault? Beside him, his brother nudged him, gray eyes shimmering sympathetically. He understood, and so did their friends, though they didn't know everything. But no one else seemed to understand, though, and the thought depressed him. He was more prone to this reaction than his peers were. His extreme outbursts and mood swings were due to a disease he had, something really rare. It made him unbelievably powerful, but he was easily depressed or upset. He also got fits, of a sort, where he'd be lost to all around him and his power ran rampant through his mind. At least, that's how his parents had explained it to him, and they'd never lied before. They'd said that whenever he was really upset or sad and didn't know why, he could talk to them or Severus. But he hadn't been able to see his uncle alone for several weeks. Adrian ran his hands through his unruly hair, making it even messier than it had already been. Draco patted his shoulder reassuringly, easily able to read his brother's actions and sense the growing thrum of power that was quickly enveloping his little brother.
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Adrian started shaking; eyes squeezed shut as he closed himself up in the storm that was raging through him. Draco stood up suddenly. "Professor, I think my brother is sick. Can I take him to the Hospital wing?" Quirrel stopped mid-stutter and looked nervously at Adrian, who was pale as death and clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly, eyes locked on the blank sheet of parchment on his desk. "I t-think you may b-be r-r-right, M-Mr. M-Malfoy," the young professor stammered nervously. Draco dragged Adrian out of the room and down the halls, running and stumbling toward the dungeons. Once he reached Snape's office, he pounded his fist against the door, glancing nervously at his brother, who was fading into his fit quickly. Snape opened the door with a sneer, but his eyes were questioning. Draco jerked his head in Adrian's direction in lieu of an answer. Snape nodded and ushered the brothers inside. "Bad one," Severus commented, leading Adrian to a chair by the fireplace. As soon as this was done, he kneeled in front of his "nephew" and tilted his head up so the boy was looking right into his eyes. "Adrian, you are in Hogwarts." He stared, lost to the world. "Adrian, this is Uncle Severus. Can you hear me?" Nothing. "Ade, you are safe. No one will hurt you here." His fingers twitched slightly. Severus gripped the boy's small hands, hoping physical contact would help pull his nephew out of his fit. Adrian's head twitched slightly, pupils dilating until his irises were barely visible.
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"Adrian, you are safe. Fight it," Severus said, speaking low and calmly. "He's usually stopped by now," Draco fretted, looking his brother up and down. Severus knew and shared the boy's worry. Talking and soothing were the only things that could bring Adrian back around, as there was no cure for his ailment. Severus was getting close, but he could only do so much while remaining one of the most feared professors in recent history. Ah, he did love his job. Adrian shuddered and collapsed against his uncle's shoulder, sobbing. Severus' arms wrapped tightly around him, rubbing his back soothingly, relieved that he'd come back to his senses. Draco left the room quietly, to give his brother a moment of privacy. He never stayed in the room when Adrian "woke up". He felt that if he were in Adrian's situation, he would want as few witnesses as possible. "It was bad, wasn't it?" Severus asked, his black eyes softening as he tightened his grip on the shaking child in his arms. Adrian nodded. "Are you going to tell me about it?" "No, Uncle. Thank you, but I should go. I don't want to miss the entire day." "Unfortunately, you are missing the entire day, Malfoy, if I have to Stun you and drag you to the Hospital myself," Severus growled, eyes turning hard once more. Adrian grumbled but didn't doubt his uncle's threat; he'd do anything to keep his nephews safe, even if it meant hurting them. A lesser of two evils, he often said. The black-clad professor led his charge to Madam Pomfrey, spelling up a note for Draco. Adrian lay in his bed for the next few hours, silently furious with himself. Why did this have to be his disease, his torment? Why did he have to be crazy?
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Okay, this is important later on. I know that there was nothing like this in canon, but I wanted some reasoning behind his huge (and slightly illogical) magical outbursts. Poor Ade, Voldyanda rare disease? You all must think I hate him. I promise that I don't, though! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One Hogwarts Grounds, Hogwarts, Scotland, 8 November, 1991 He stood staring at the broom in his hands. Oh, how it mocked him. He could do this. Being in the air wasn't that bad, after all, and he was brave. Braver than anything. Anything but this. He growled in frustration, dragging his free hand through his hair. Fear is weakness, he reminded himself. I cannot afford weakness. He sighed. He hated not being normal, always having to be what others wanted. Conforming to what they believed a hero should be. But weren't many of the world's truest heroes pacifists? Why could no one ever seem to remember this? He wished that he could be like them, but he wasn't. And sometimes, he resented that. His family had understood this, comforting him and letting him rant whenever he needed to. But they were all so far away now. At least he had friends now. Adrian was a nice guy, and so were Neville and Blaise. Draco was pretty formal with him, a sure sign that he hadn't earned the boy's trust, while Ron was a little devious and sly, always looking at something in a completely backwards way and convincing them that it made sense. Daphne was his equal when it came to snarky comments, and he and Hermione could debate for hours on various topics, even Muggle ones. He was accepted (mostly) without question, and he knew that they weren't
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groupies. Hell, he'd hated the lot of them not three weeks before! And, as they assured him when he'd said this, the feeling was mutual. He briefly wondered what his parents would say when they found out that most of his friends were Slytherins. And he shuddered at what they would do when he finally told them he wasn't a Gryffindor. His father would be more disappointed with him than usual. No, two months into school, and his parents still thought he was a Gryffindor. He had never told them he was, but he'd also never said he wasn't. It wasn't lying, it really wasn't. It just wasn't the whole tuth. He stared at the broom some more. Could this twig really shame the boy-who-lived? Setting his jaw resolutely, he threw his leg over the broom, determined to make his dad happy with him. He kicked off firmly and squeezed his eyes shut. The wind roared in his ears as he rose steadily. This really isn't so bad, he thought, daring to open his eyes. He had always marveled at the stars and the night, how huge and deep the sky was without the sun causing you to look away, and it seemed so much better now that he was a part of it. "Enjoying the view?" He yelped and almost fell off his broom. Whipping his head around, he saw Adrian perched in a tree just above his head, straddling a wide branch carelessly. A broom was tucked into some branches beside him. "Bloody hell, Adrian, you scared me!" he cried, gripping his broom tightly. Adrian shrugged apologetically, standing up easily on the bough. "Sorry, I like it
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up here, too. Especially at night. Things are easier a night." Henry nodded. They sat staring at the stars, talking quietly. Henry amused them both with his dry witticisms and Adrian had them laughing with tales of his and Draco's escapades. "You banished all the spinach in Wiltshire?" Henry chuckled, and Adrian flashed him a grin. "Well, Mum and Dad didn't believe that I was allergic, so" The bright crescent moon rose higher and bathed the grounds in an eerie gray light. Out of nowhere, a huge bolt of purple lightning flashed, moving from the ground and into the sky, forming a cross of moon and lightning. Henry snorted back a laugh. "What?" Adrian asked, leaning back against the tree. "Oh, nothing. It's just that I have a scar that looks like that," he said. "I-is it your curse scar?" Adrian asked, strange silver-green eyes looking around uncomfortably. He obviously didn't like to pry. "Yeah, I suppose it is. See?" Henry unbuttoned his shirt and exposing his skinny chest to the cold wind. Adrian leaned forward and looked. On Henry's pale chest, just over his heart was the scar, a black crescent moon crossed with a mottled purple and red lightning bolt. "Wicked," Adrian breathed. "I have a birthmark that's kind of cool, if you want to see it." "Sure." Adrian revealed his sunburst scar, and when Henry turned to look, it began to glow red and purple, while Henry's scar seemed to suck the surrounding light away from it. "What-"
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"I dunno, but it hurts like hell," Adrian gasped, clutching his heart, face twisted in agony. Henry also felt a searing pain. He thought his heart was going to explode when the pain suddenly stopped. "What was that?" Henry choked out. He'd barely been able to hang onto his broom. Adrian only shook his head. "Like I said, I dunno, mate." Neither of them noticed the dark figure under the tree until"ADRIAN ATEUS MALFOY, GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE! AND YOU POTTER! DETENTIONS EVERY EVENING FOR THE REST OF THE TERM!" The boys looked down and saw Snape standing beneath the tree, shaking with absolute fury. "Oh, shit," Adrian moaned. "Uncle is going to kill me!" "Why, you weren't caught flying a broom after hours. You're just up in a tree," Henry snorted. "Why are you up in a tree?" "No, you don't understand, I'm supposed to be in the Hospital wing." "YES YOU ARE, YOU DUNDERHEAD! DON'T THINK THAT I CAN'T HEAR YOU UP THERE! YOUR FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS ONE, ADRIAN! I'M NOT GOING TO COVER YOUR ARSE FOR THIS!" "Damn! I swear he hears like a-" "IF YOU SAY 'BAT', NEPHEW-MINE, YOU WILL SERVE DETENTIONS UNTILL AFTER YOU GRADUATE!" "Damn!" This one's for you, cheesetaco! Happy birthday! To all the rest of you, I love y'all, too, and I hope you continue to review, because reviews make my heart and tummy smile (when I get really interesting ones that make me happy, I bake. A lot.) Thank you for all the
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support, even if I really threw in a weird twist last chapter. -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two Forbidden Forest, Outside of Hogsmeade, Scotland, 8 November, 1991 He waited. The woods roared and screeched deafeningly, and the wind and branches pulled at his clothes, but he remained perfectly still. He heard a noise to his left and his muscles tightened, like a coiled spring wound too tight, he waited. His friend emerged from the foliage, robes torn slightly at the hem. He chuckled. "It has been too long." "It has." The two men embraced, smiling. "What have you found?" He'd never been a patient man. "I found someone with mixed blood." "Like what, part Veela or giant?" "No, this is something else entirely. Something very ancient and, I fear, very dark." "What is it, my friend?" "I believe that it was a blood-binding." "B-but those are illegal! REALLY illegal! Even I wouldn't attempt that!" "I know that, but that's what I think. There's no other explanation for a full-blooded human that has two mixes of blood, from two sets of parents."
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He ran his hands through his hair, cursing under his breath. This was not what he'd wanted to hear. "And who, my friend, was the victim of this?" "A first year by the name of Adrian Malfoy." "Oh, bloody hell! I don't give a damn about what the Malfoys get up to anymore! I'm not an Auror!" "Listen for a mo-" "You dragged me all the way here, just to tell me that Malfoy has some slimy kid? Dammit, I could've still been in Turkey, looking! Why'd you have to-" "Listen! Adrian definitely smells like a Malfoy, very similar to his brother. But there's something off about his scent, something difficult to catch unless you were looking." "And what is that, exactly?" "He also smells like a Potter." The man stood stunned, staring at his friend. "Are you serious?" "Absolutely. It's faint, but it's there." "What can we do?" He was excited now. "Nothing right now. I'm researching it as best I can, but for now, we have to wait." "Finally," he breathed. In a sudden show of his joy, he laughed and sent a massive bolt of purple lightning into the night sky. His friend laughed and turned. "I have to return. I'll see you soon." He turned on the spot and Disapparated. The man smiled openly. Just wait, Harry. I'm coming.

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Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 15 November, 1991 "Lucious, it's your turn." "Unhhhhhh." "Lu, c'mon, she's crying." "'lright, 'm up," he mumbled, kicking the sheets off and shuffling out the door. Yawning, he entered his wailing daughter's nursery. "Oh, my baby, what's wrong?" he cooed, scooping her into his arms. She stopped crying instantly. "Da," she gurgled, snuggling closer to his chest. He chuckled, bouncing her up and down in his arms and humming softly. Marvela Malfoy stared up at her father with unwavering blue eyes. His long blond hair fascinated her. She tangled it in her pudgy hands, running it over her face and giggling when it tickled her. Lucius continued to bounce her up and down gently, watching as her eyelids fluttered open and shut heavily. Finally, her eyes stayed closed and her breathing steadied. Lucius gently placed her in her crib and smiled down at her. He'd never thought that he'd be a good father. Life had proved him wrong. And for once, he didn't mind being wrong. He pushed a stray curl off his angel's face, beaming down at her. He snuck out of the room, silently recasting the Sonorus charm on his daughter and crept back into his room. Narcissa was asleep again, and Lucius wrapped his arms around her slender waist and pulled her closer, so he back was pressed
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against his chest. She murmured contentedly and snuggled closer, much like their daughter had only moments ago. Lucius chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his chest, and pulled his wife even closer to him. He still loved her. She was his best and oldest friend, and even though that was as far as his love for her went, it was enough. Outside Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 17 November, 1991 The rising sun shot pink and orange streaks through the clear morning sky, and the birds that remained through the winter sang quietly, the cool breeze carrying their cries throughout the gardens. Narcissa Malfoy loved it out here, the peaceful atmosphere seeming to wash away her worries. She walked through the organized rows of Everblooming lilies, orchids, and roses. One of the first things she'd done after moving into the manor was to plant an expansive garden, full of color and beauty. She came out here every morning, coffee mug in hand, to enjoy an hour of peace before Lucius went to work and she was fully responsible for Marvela and her duties as Lady Malfoy began. Sighing at the events of the coming day, which included planning the annual Christmas Eve party, she settled onto a bench in the apple orchard and sipped her coffee. And something rustled in the nearby bushes. Narcissa slowly drew her wand and gripped it tightly as whatever it was came closer. Suddenly, it burst out of the bushes and bounded toward her. It was a big black dog. It tilted its head at her curiously and sat a few feet away. It was really shaggy with pointed ears and sharp gray-blue eyes. From a distance, it would look like a huge wolf, but it was easy to see that the dog was harmless from her seat. "What are you doing here? Are you lost?" Narcissa asked the dog. It cocked its ears to the side and woofed. She laughed. She had always had a soft spot for animals, especially dogs.
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The dog walked cautiously closer and licked her hand tentatively. She patted its head, laughing at the way it leaned into her hand and closed its eyes. "Come on, dog. Come with me," she said, standing up and walking toward the house. The dog trotted next to her, easily keeping up on its long sinewy legs. Narcissa rubbed its ears absently hoping that Lucius would allow the dog to stay. Not that she really needed his permission. She could get whatever she wanted from him, really. And she wanted this dog. Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 17 November, 1991 Lucius ran his hands through his hair, a nervous habit. He was nervous now. "Narcissa, why do you want a dog? They're like children!" "I love our children," she replied stiffly, rubbing the dog's ears. "As do I, but a dog? Why not something more suitable?" "In what way are dogs unsuitable?" "They drool, they shed, they make noise" Lucius trailed off. "They aren't clean." "I'll clean him. And he doesn't drool." He sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He knew that he would lose this battle with his wife. "Lucius, think of it this way; the boys already have a Christmas gift!" The dog woofed and wagged its tail. Lucius groaned. He was beaten.

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Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four Defense Against the Dark Arts Corridor, Hogwarts, Scotland, 25 November, 1991 "Have you got the supplies, Drake?" "Yeah, yeah, I've got them, Ron. I'm the responsible one, remember?" "Yeah, responsible for getting us all a detention, Drake!" "Shuttup, Daphne! I am responsible!" "Responsible, my arse! I'm the responsible one here! I brought down Moldy Voldy!" The others snorted and continued toward Quirrel's classroom under the two invisibility cloaks, Henry's and Adrian and Draco's. They'd decided to "initiate" Henry, a suggestion they'd gotten from Hermione. She, of course, didn't know why they'd asked about initiations, but had told them gladly. She now regretted doing so as they crept through the deserted halls. They reached the door and cast several unlocking charms at it, opening it cautiously. It creaked. "Shit!" "Adrian, watch your mouth!" Hermione scolded, poking him under the cloak. Ron chuckled at him. "That's right, Hermione! Tell him to watch his damned mouth!" "RONALD!" "Ow! I was only joking!"
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Draco shook his head at his friend's antics and pulled them into the empty classroom. "Keep quiet! D'you want Filch to catch us?" "Too right, Draco," Blaise whispered. "Suck up," Daphne muttered. "W-we won't get caught, will we?" Neville asked, shaking slightly. "My Gran would kill me." Adrian and Draco both threw an arm over his shoulders. "Neville, if we get caught, we'll hide you under the cloak first," Draco said. Henry patted his shoulder reassuringly and the others flashed him a grin. "Alright, as Hermione suggested, the initiation entails a prank-" "I did no such thing, Adrian!" "Shhhhh!" Adrian cleared his throat officiously, and the others rolled their eyes. "As I was saying, the initiation entails a prank that Henry, here, had to come up with all on his own. We can help him set up, but we can't talk, deviate from his plan, or make suggestions. The prank has to work as planned, and at least mess with Quirrel's head a bit, if not outright humiliate him. If it works, you will be a full member, with all the rights and privileges, of the Firebrands." "Firebrands?" "Like Muggle pirates?" Draco and Adrian nodded, pleased with the name they'd come up with. "Hermione, what are pirates?" "Oh, honestly, Ronald! They're thieves who stole treasure and boats. Glorified pickpockets, if you ask me." "Pickpocket? What's a pickpocket?"" "Oh, for the love of Merlin! Henry, what is your plan?" Draco cried.
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Henry illuminated the room with a wave of his wand and spread an excruciatingly detailed map of the classroom on the floor. "That's really good, mate. I didn't know you knew the cartography spell," Ron said, obviously impressed at his new friend's cleverness. Henry blushed scarlet. "Uh, I don't know it. I drew the map, Ron." They stared at him. "It's bloody brilliant, mate." Henry flashed Adrian a grin. "Thanks. Now here's what we're going to do" DADA Classroom, Hogwarts, Scotland, 26 November, 1991 Professor Quirrel strode into his first class, shaking slightly as usual. "N-now, class, p-p-please l-look up at the b-board." Henry flashed an evil grin at Neville, who smirked back as Quirrel grabbed a piece of chalk and began to write. BANG! The chalk exploded as soon as it touched the board. Quirrel shrieked and shook his stinging hand, a cloud of white dust floating gently around him. "W-w-well, m-maybe w-w-we'll s-see some s-slides ins-stead," he laughed nervously, pulling down the projection screen. A dark shape fell out of the folds of the screen and swooped down upon the nervous man. Quirrel actually screamed this time, for the shape was a hungry-looking vampire. It stood several inches taller than he and reached a pale bony hand toward him. Quirrel fainted. The vampire, which was really a life-sized moving photograph, promptly collapsed and burst into shimmering red flames that hung in mid-air, the word "Firebrand" clearly visible.
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Everyone was so distracted by the spectacle that no one noticed Henry and Neville grin and shake hands. Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, 26 November, 1991 Draco was choking, Adrian howled, and even Hermione laughed when Neville and Henry recounted Quirrel's first encounter with the Firebrands. Daphne had tears of mirth streaming down her cheeks, and Blaise whacked Draco- who was still chokingon the back as he laughed. Ron had, once again, managed to spit food onto Neville's face and was now rolling on the floor sobbing with laughter. None of them seemed to notice the stares they got from both students and professors. "Oh, Merlin, that sounded brilliant!" Draco coughed, having finally dislodged the piece of steak from his throat. "It was, mate. You should've seen his face when the 'vampire' got him!" Neville chuckled, wiping potatoes off his face disgustedly. "Hey! We could! I hear there's a Pensieve in Dumbledore's office! We could-" "RONALD WEASLEY, WE ARE NOT BREAKING INTO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE TO ILLEGALLY USE A RARE MAGICAL ARTIFACT!" Hermione bellowed at him, turning bright pink. By now, everyone was staring openly at them. "It was only a suggestion, Hermione," Ron muttered, poking at his potatoes. He turned to Henry and whispered, "Do all Muggleborns have a temper, mate, or are we just lucky?" "I HEARD THAT!"

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Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland, 5 December, 1991 "This is the end of me, Albus!" "Now, Minerva, be reasonable, it can't be that ba-" "Not that bad, Albus? First, there were the Marauders in the seventies, then the Weasley twins. And I thought that they were bad! But no! Give me Potter, Lupin, Black, and Pettigrew any day! Fred and George? Easy! But these Firebrands are something else entirely! They can get in to all of the common rooms at all hours of the day and night, they never get caught! I've no idea how they're doing this, or even who they are! Argus is as frazzled as I am!" McGonagall cries, her normally rigidly controlled hair sticking out in odd tufts. Her light blue eyes were wild. "In the last week, there have been eight pranks, first the one on Quirrel, and then one on each of the houses. The Slytherin dormitories were charmed with a highly advanced spell that was dormant until all of them entered the Great Hall, at which point they began to dance and sing a vulgar song by some Muggle pop star." "Ah, yes, Miss Spears, I believe. 'Hit Me Baby One More Time', if I remember properly. A rather catchy tune," Albus said cheerfully. "The Ravenclaws were hexed en masse, a Babbling Hex. They were speaking gibberish for an entire day! The Hufflepuffs were poisoned with a Buck-Up Potion, and their aggression toward the other houses was unprecedented! There were fights, Albus, physical fights! And the Gryffindors! They were attacked again, this time with Fanged Frisbees and even more powerful fireworks! Poor Longbottom was in hysterics and had to be sedated!" McGonagall cried, close to hysterics herself. "And that's not to mention the other incidents with the staff and the professors! Even you were a victim, your robes were turned a horrendous shade of orange the other night-" Albus cleared his throat. "Actually, Minerva, they were not tampered with. I bought them like that." McGonagall's lined face turned red. "Albus, I-I didn't know. I didn't-"
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He chuckled. "I am aware that you were unaware, Professor. And I believe that these Firebrands are precisely what they call themselves." "What, pirates?" "Exactly." "So what are they doing, Headmaster?" "Raiding." "Why?" He looked at her over his half-moon glasses. "They are looking for treasure." Hogwarts Library, Hogwarts, Scotland, 5 December, 1991 "Hermione, when are we going to do something interesting?" "Sneaking into the Restricted Section is interesting, Blaise. I thought you would understand that." "And what does that mean, exactly?" Ron hissed from behind them. "I wish I'd gone with the others." "The fact that you don't understand, Ronald, only proves my point. Ah, here we are. I wonder why the others didn't come. It's perfectly thrilling in here!" "The fact that you don't know, Hermione, only proves my point." "What point, Ron?" Blaise asked, running his hands over the books. "That smarts aren't everything," Ron smirked. And then, looking at the thousands of ancient books surrounding him, he muttered, "I wish I'd gone with the others." Third Floor Corridor, Hogwarts, Scotland, 5 December, 1991 "RUN!" Adrian screamed. They'd decided to go exploring again, this time without dungbombs or fireworks. Tonight, they'd had a goal; to discover what was hidden on the third floor.
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They were pirates, after all. Unfortunately, filch had also thought that tonight was a nice night for a prowl, and was right on their (invisible) heels, only just around a corner behind them. "Look!" Neville yelled, pointing at a door. They ran toward it. It was locked. "Alohomora!" Draco and Henry roared wands pointing at the door handle. It opened with a squeak, and the five friends charged inside. "Ugh, what is that stink?" "Uh, guys?" "I don't know, but it's really loud in here too." "Guys?" "And hot." "YOU GUYS!" "What, Neville?" "Uh, d-does one of the professors have a d-dog?" They turned to look at him and instead came face to face with a monstrous three-headed dog. There was a millisecond of silence, then-

They immediately fought their way out the door, pushing each other out. They threw the cloak over themselves and scrambled down the hall. "What about Filch?" Draco asked as they ran. "TO HELL WITH FILCH! DID YOU SEE THAT BLOODY DOG? MOVE YOUR
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ARSES!" Neville bellowed, pushing the others forward. They looked at him, shocked and bewildered. "Well," Adrian said as they ran, "we did it." "Did what, almost get your friends killed again?" Daphne snapped, panting. "We corrupted him. He swears now," Adrian said, smirking at all of them. "You're an arsehole."

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Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six Room of Requirement, Hogwarts, Scotland, 6 December, 1991 "So, what you're telling us," Hermione said slowly, "is that last night you were attacked by a three headed dog on the forbidden third floor? And you think it was standing on a trapdoor?" They nodded sagely, exchanging dark looks and patting a twitchy Neville on the back soothingly. She burst into hysterical laughter. Her friends stared open-mouthed at her. "Oh-ho, that's good! A school with a manic three headed dog guarding some random trapdoor? I usually don't enjoy your practical jokes, but this one really had me going for a moment there! Hahahaha! And Neville's acting! I almost got him a calming draught, he was so believable! I mean, he's been twitching all day!" Hermione howled. The others looked at each other nervously, none of them seeing the humor in this that Hermione seemed to. "Ah, Hermione? I don't think they're joking," Blaise said quietly. "Of course they are," she chortled. "That story is far too ridiculous to be real!" "So, you don't believe us, then?" Adrian asked, a sly smile appearing on his face and a slightly crazed look in his eyes. Daphne and Draco caught onto his idea immediately and tried to cover their snickers. Henry's eyes widened with shock. "There is no possible way I could believe that story, Adrian!" "What if I could show you?" Third Floor Corridor, Hogwarts, Scotland "HOLY HELL!"
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The seven others were trying desperately to catch their friend as she ran through the hall without any apparent destination other than away from the monster. "Hermione, slow down!" "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR TINY BLOODY MINDS! THERE'S A HUGE DOG BACK THERE! A HUGE, MEAN,THREE HEADED DOG!" she screamed over her shoulder, still running. "I tried to tell you, Hermione!" Adrian shouted at her, quickening his pace to keep up with Ron, Draco, and Blaise, all of whom had longer legs. Neville and Daphne had opted to stay up in the secret room. It was for the best really. No one wanted Neville to experience heart failure. They finally caught Hermione on the fifth floor, and they were forced to stun her and drag her up the stairs to the room, she was so upset. They enervated her, and she seemed to have calmed down some. "Why do they have a monster like that in a school?" she asked eyes wide. "I haven't a bloody clue," Ron offered cheerfully. The others simply shook their heads. "Adrian was right, though," Hermione said thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling, "it is guarding something." "What could possibly be that important?" Draco asked no one in particular. "Maybe it's something really valuable?" Neville offered. "Then why not keep it in Gringotts?" Blaise said. "Maybe it wasn't safe there," Henry replied. "Didn't someone break in a few months ago?" "That's right, I forgot about that," Hermione said. "It was weird because the vault was emptied the same day, so nothing was stolen." "Yeah, that's the same day my parents and I went there. While we were in the lobby, Hagrid came to the teller next to us. He seemed pretty excited, said
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something about Dumbledore and a vault." "So, whatever the dog is guarding, it came from Gringotts, and it's something for Dumbledore. And, logically, it's something really valuable." "So what is it?" "I don't know," Hermione said, "but I intend to find out." "Does this mean we have to go see that bloody dog again?" Neville asked. The others looked at him sympathetically. "Sorry, Nev, that's what it means." "Damn! I'm always in life-threatening situations around you all, aren't I?" "It's okay, Neville. You'll always be safe so long as Adrian has his saving people thing." "Oh, stuff it."

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Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts, Scotland, 12 December, 1991 They were pissed. And it wasn't even breakfast yet. Someone was stealing their element and making them look like amateurs. And in their own school, in their own common room! "Fred, we have to do something about these bloody Firebrands," George muttered. "Couldn't agree more, George, but we have no idea who they are! We don't even know what house they're in! Or how many there are!" his twin replied. "Well, someone has to know something! According to Filch and McGonagall's estimations, there's between six and twenty of them." "So, what, we'll just run around asking about the Firebrands?" Fred asked. "No, we can't do that. We don't want to stop them, because they have real talent, we only need to put them in their place. At least until we leave," George said, scratching his chin. "And how do you propose we do that? Issue a random challenge in hopes that they'll answer?" Fred asked sarcastically. George grinned triumphantly at him. "It was sarcasm!" Fred moaned, slumping into his chair. Neither noticed a grinning Neville slip out the passageway into the deserted corridor. Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland It started as an ordinary breakfast, toast, eggs, bacon, and sausage were in
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abundance and Ron didn't seem to think this abundance would last, judging from the way he shoveled food into his mouth like a mad man. Hermione shot him a scathing look, and his eating slowed a bit. He now took the time to chew. Suddenly, huge fireworks exploded through the room, startling everyone present. Even some of the professors had been surprised. Unsurprisingly, McGonagall wasn't one of them. The fireworks died out, leaving a huge scarlet and gold banner hanging from the rafters facing away from the staff table. It read, 'We, Fred and George Weasley, compliment the Firebrands on their excellent technique, precision, and planning. Eight students at the Slytherin table smirked. 'However,' it continued, 'We would like to test these newcomers. We hereby challenge the Firebrands to a war. The same eight exchanged incredulous looks. 'A prank war, that is. There are three rules: 'One: you must target three teachers or staff members. McGonagall is not recommended. 'Two: you must be creative. There is no room for amateurs. 'Three: you may not permanently maim or cripple anyone. Or kill them. 'Both parties must submit something of value as a prize for the other team in the event of a loss. We submit the Marauder's Map. 'Finally, we will not reveal you, but should you lose, you must reveal yourselves to us. 'Good luck to all, and may the true Pranking Princes (or Princesses) win!' Adrian turned to his friends. "Well?"
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"It's a good day to die," Neville said. Adrian and Draco subtly cast a spell at the banner, and it changed colors from green to blue to red to yellow. 'We accept.' Woooooooooooooo! Two chapters in one day! Don't y'all feel special! Hahahahahaha, well, you should! I have some awesome people out there who review almost every chapter! I'm sure there are more of you out there, so just hit that awesome little review button! See? It's right there! I I I V !

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Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, 12 December, 1991 The Hall erupted. There was laughter and whispers, but most of all, speculation. Who were the Firebrands? Are they really so good that the infamous Weasley twins felt threatened enough to challenge them, or is it more of a prank in itself? The Firebrands themselves had their heads together, already plotting in hushed tones, and almost no one noticed the eight first years whispering hurriedly. "No, I am absolutely not participating in something that can get me thrown out of school!" Hermione hissed. "Oh, come on, Hermione, live a little! It can't be worse than that bloody dog," Ron said with a shudder. Hermione shot him a poisonous glare. "Come on, Hermione, we need our favorite Ravenclaw for this! None of us is as clever as you," Blaise said charmingly. "Hey! I resent that!" Adrian joked. "Look, we probably shouldn't talk out here. Too many ears," Henry said, looking around carefully. Although their group had been highly unusual at the beginning of the term, everyone now ignored or accepted the small group who sat at the Slytherin table each day. "Yeah, you're right. We should go somewhere more private," Draco agreed. "First, though, we need to decide on the three professors," Daphne said. "I say Snape." Draco and Adrian spluttered, coughing on their pumpkin juice.
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"Are you mad? Uncle would kill us! And not the kind that can be traced either, the kind that looks like peaceful, natural causes but is really slow and painful!" Draco choked, eyes wide. "I dunno, Drake. I like the idea of Uncle losing his cool," Adrian smirked. "NO! No, no, no, no, no! NO!" Neville screamed. "Calm down, Neville!" Blaise hissed. "Shuttup, mate!" Ron said. "It was only a suggestion." "I am not, nor will I ever, prank Professor Snape!" Neville squeaked. "Why? Uncle is perfectly harmless," Adrian said, waving his hand dismissively. "I have never met a more harmful person in my life!" Hermione said hotly. "Alright, so we're undecided on Snape," Blaise said, trying to diffuse the oncoming argument. "Let's go to the room and talk some more," Ron said. "It's quieter anyways." "We can't go now, our first class starts in ten minutes!" Hermione said. "So we'll skip today," Ron said, shrugging. "No big deal." "No big deal!" "We can't skip anyway. It'd be much too obvious," Adrian said. "I mean, the day the Firebrands get a huge challenge, eight first years miss all their classes but aren't in the hospital wing?" "Thank you Adrian," Hermione said, relieved. "We'll skip tomorrow." Library, Hogwarts, Scotland "Why are we here again, Hermione?" Ron asked. They were in the Restricted Section again, under Adrian and Draco's invisibility
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cloak. "I've been researching that dog, and I got some interesting results," she replied breathlessly. "So, what is it?" "I think it's a Cerberus." "A what?" "A three headed guardian. In ancient Greek mythology, it was the guardian of the underworld. It's also depicted as being a guardian for many Muggle universities." "So Ade's right, it is guarding something," Ron said, brow furrowed. "Yes, and that's what worries me. Cerberus was only used to guard between life and death, according to the Greeks," Hermione said, reaching for book on the shelf just above her outstretched hand. Ron snorted as she jumped up at it. He reached over her head and grabbed it easily, handing it to her. "'Crossing the Line: A Guide to Immortality'?" "Yes, Ron." "So, whatever the dog is guarding, it's between life and death?" Ron asked her. She nodded, preoccupied with turning the pages of the book. "What is it, then?" "I haven't the foggiest, Ronald. I've only been a witch for a few months, you know." "Well, what're you looking for?" "I'm looking for anything that would be the difference between life and death." "That book is a guide to life, not death," Ron pointed out. "Exactly, Ron. If I can understand what makes wizards immortal, it might help me find out what that dog is guarding."
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"You're stretching it a bit, don't you think? I mean, no one said anything about being immortal." "Immortality is the difference between life and death, Ron, the only difference." "So, one of the professors wants to steal something that could make them immortal?" Hermione swallowed. "I'm afraid so." "I still think it's Flitwick." "Oh Ron, honestly." "I'm serious!" "Why would Flitwick want to be immortal?" "So that when he finally meets a tiny woman, he'll still look as good as ever." She laughed. "I'm glad you chose to help me instead of plotting chaos with the others." "No problem. Hermione?" "Yes?" "Can you plot chaos?" "Me?" "Yes, you. Haven't you ever played a joke on someone?" "Of course I have. Once, I turned the neighbor boy's cat green. When he ran to tell his mother, I turned it back. He was a right git, though." Ron chuckled, tucking the heavy book under his arm. "How many times did you do that?" "Two hours, twice a week for a summer." "That's terrible!"
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"So was he," she shrugged. Ron laughed out loud. "I never knew you to be devious." "I'm a good actress," she said, smiling sweetly. Okay, so Ron/Hermione fluff at the end. I'll post a new chapter either today or tomorrow, so read, review, opinionate, and whatever else you feel like doing!

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Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine Hufflepuff Boys' Dormitories, Hogwarts, Scotland, 13 December, 1991 "Hawwy." "Henwy." The feeling of falling out of his own mind accompanied him once more. He shuddered. Three months and he still couldn't remember anything else about Harry. They were brothers, or so he assumed, and this was all that was left of him. He thought it odd that he could only have one memory of a brother. He found it really odd that his parents had never mentioned Harry. Not once. He'd looked the modified Rememberall specifically looking for mentions of any Harry's. There were none. He'd owled his mum and dad, casually mentioning a Harry who was in one of his classes. The response was unsettling, asking a lot of weird questions about Harry and his family. He'd replied that he couldn't remember and, gathering his courage, had finally told them he was in Hufflepuff. Amazingly enough, his dad had congratulated him enthusiastically. He said that the Hufflepuff's were nice blokes. Henry then told his parents about his new friends. They seemed uneasy that the "boy-who-lived" (oh, how the Potter's hated that title) should be friends with so many Slytherins, and his mother had scolded him for the pranks. His dad sent a separate letter that praised the pranks and suggestions for future ones. He wondered what it'd have been like if he'd had a brother. Potter House,Godric's Hollow, England
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"JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL, LIVIN' IN A LONELY WO-ORLD! TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOIN' ANEEEEEEEEEEEWHERE!" "Oh, James, what're you singing now?" Lily sighed, sinking into the chair. "Journey, love. JUST A CITY BOY, BORN AND RAISED IN SOUTH DETROIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" Lily grumbled and snatched the coffee out of his hands. He grinned, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and turned back to the french toast. "I remember that song!" Lily said, perked up by her coffee. "That's how I know, the song, Lily," he said wryly. She stuck her tongue out at him and sipped her coffee. He chuckled and dropped a few slices of french toast onto her plate. She sifted through the mail and came upon a letter from Henry. "Oh, we got another letter from Henry, James." "Yeah, we got it last week, I think." "You didn't tell me?" she yelled. "I, ah, forgot," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. She tossed a piece of toast at him, which he transfigured effortlessly into a cardinal. She snorted at him and opened the letter. The kitchen settled into a rare silence, with Lily reading and James eating his toast as fast as he could. A few minutes later, she broke the quiet with a cry of, "Oh, bloody hell!" "What's wrong?" "Henry's been invited to his friends' Christmas Eve party," she cried, shaking the parchment in his face, knocking his glasses askew. "What's wrong with that?" he asked, bewildered.
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"His friends Adrian and Draco Malfoy's Christmas Eve party." "Oh, bloody Malfoys! I forgot he was friends with them." "And he really wants to go. Apparently all but one of his friends are going, and he's really looking forward to it," Lily read on. "Bloody hell," James swore. "What do we do? I know how you feel about the Malfoy's-" "We should go, even if Lucius is a git." "James!" "Lucius gave me and Siri- someone else detentions for breathing too loudly in the Great Hall!" James cried. Lily squeezed his hand when he mentioned their old friend. James got depressed whenever his former best friend came up. "James, I'm sure he's fine." "Course he is. He's at Hogwarts with Dumbledore, what could be safer?" he replied, avoiding her eyes. "You know I wasn't talking about Henry," she said. "Lily, not today. Pease not today," James asked quietly, hazel eyes anguished. "When, James? When? It's been ten years, and you haven't tried to find Sirius and you certainly haven't tried to speak to Remus!" Lily said hotly, her face turning red. "You can't just pretend you never knew them!" "They act like they don't know me!" he yelled. "Because you've never tried!" "Because I'm too ashamed!" he screamed, standing up so abruptly that his chair flipped over. Lily was taken aback.
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He leaned back against the wall and sank to the floor. "I'm so ashamed of what I did, Lily. I broke the vow. We swore to never hurt one another, and never to betray each other!" "You didn't betray anyone, Peter did." "In a way, what I did to him was worse. Sirius never had someone who loved him, really loved him, until we had the boys," James swallowed thickly. "And when we named him Harry's godfather, he told me that it was the happiest day of his life. And I took that away, when I knew how much it meant to him! I snatched away the only thing he'd ever loved and been loved by." "We did what was best, James." "What if we were wrong, Lils? What if we made a mistake?" "I think we could fix it." He shook his head. "I think it might be too late." Okay, a bit of potter angst. I love Sirius, and this part actually got me a little choked up. Yeah, yeah, I'm a weeper. Anyways, read and Review!

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Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty Room of Requirement, Hogwarts, Scotland, 18 December, 1991 "Immortal? Are you joking?" Blaise cried. Hermione shook her head seriously. "I've done a lot of research with Ron, and we both agree: someone in the castle is trying to become immortal." "But why? I mean, I see the advantages and all, but being immortal would be awfully lonely, don't you think? You'd outlive everyone you cared about," Neville said, staring into his lap with that look he sometimes got when he talked about such things. "Yeah, it would. I wouldn't want to," Henry said. "We have to look into this more. I have a bad feeling that if we don't, we'll live to regret it," Hermione said sadly. "Or worse, we won't live to regret it," Ron added. "But what about the war? We can't just drop everything to chase after some mad idea!" Adrian protested. "No, we can't. We can't let anyone know what we're up to. If anyone guesses who the Firebrands are, and we just stop pulling pranks, they'll get suspicious," Hermione explained. "So, only some of us can do pranks?" Adrian asked, looking slightly appeased. "Exactly. I can't do all this research myself, it'd take months. But if we split up, or even take turns with the pranks, it'd be easier for all of us. But I need your help especially, Henry." "Me? What d'you need me for?" Henry asked, ruffling his hair. "Because you're close to Dumbledore, you're famous, and you're cleverer than people give you credit for," Hermione said simply.
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"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, curious now. "When I was in Gringotts that day, Hagrid said he needed something for Dumbledore. We don't know Hagrid, and he frightens me, so Dumbledore is the key to this whole mess." "But Dumbledore is really smart, or at least smarter than me. I don't think I can get him to say much," Henry admitted. "Just try, then," Hermione said, smiling. "Alright." "What can I do? I'm not much for pranking," Neville asked eagerly. "Uh, what're you best at, Neville?" Hermione asked. She was now commanding the room: even Adrian was paying attention. "I like Herbology," he offered. "Good, because I don't. Ask Professor Spout if there are any plants that can make someone immortal." "Great!" "Adrian, Draco, ask your uncle if there are any potions that can make you immortal." "Uncle will know something's going on. He's too observant for our own good!" Draco joked. "Try anyways," she commanded. The brother saluted and headed out the door. "Good night, all. I needed to speak with Uncle anyway," Adrian called over his shoulder. Draco whispered something to him and Adrian shrugged. "I'm okay, but it's getting a bit worse today." The others stared curiously as the Malfoys left the room. There were several moments like that, when Draco would ask Adrian something and Adrian would reply in what seemed like gibberish.
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"I think that's all we can do for now. Te rest of you can prank away," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Ah, Hermione? There's only two of us," Blaise pointed out. "Yeah, so now you have an invisibility cloak each!" she said, and promptly returned to her book. "Did we get a general or a hyper-active friend with that one?" Blaise asked wryly. "A bit of both, actually!" she called across the room cheerfully. "Lucky us," Daphne and Blaise said together. Holy crap! Three chapters in one day! My fingers are about to fall off! *thumb drops dead, other fingers rise up in a revolt* Thanks for being awesome and dealing with my constant updates! My muse is back from Ireland, where it got smashed and stole the Blarney Stone. Yay!

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Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One Snape's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland, 18 December, 1991 "Boys." "Uncle," they replied. Snape gestured to two chairs in front of his desk, and the brothers sat down, totally at ease in his presence. Snape's office was far from homey, however: the walls were gray stone, the foundations of the castle, and the distinct stench of mildew hung in the air like a fog. On shelves behind the Potion master's desk, there were many rare ingredients that looked unsettlingly like body parts from various animals. Snape looked at his nephews with something that bordered on affection. "Is there something you wanted?" he asked softly. "Yes, Uncle. Adrian wanted to talk to you, but could I ask you something first?" Draco asked. "I believe you just did," Snape drawled, onyx eyes boring into Draco's grays. "Yes, well, I was wondering if there were any advanced potions you could teach me?" he asked, sounding hopeful. "Perhaps. Did you have any one in particular on your mind?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, well, I found a snake on the grounds that Adrian seemed to like, and I wondered if there were a way to make sure it'd never die," Draco explained, lying through his teeth. "You want to know if there is a potion to make one immortal," he said. It wasn't a question. "Yes, Uncle. For Adrian's snake." "There is one potion I know of, but the ingredients are exceptionally rare. I don't
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think that the main ingredient can even be found anymore." "Well, what is the ingredient? Maybe Adrian and I could find it!" Draco said brightly. "I doubt even two miscreants such as yourselves could locate the elixir of life," Severus said, a small smile on his normally sneering face. "What is the elixir of life, Uncle?" "Didn't your brother wish to speak with me?" Severus said coolly, deflecting the question with practiced ease. Sighing in frustration, Draco nodded and left the room, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him. Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland "Hullo, Headmaster. I'm not disturbing you, am I?" Henry asked, poking his head inside the door. "No, no, dear boy, not at all! Do come in," Dumbledore said, seeming genuinely pleased to see him. Henry smiled shyly and opened the door all the way, looking around at the familiar office. "Did you make something new, professor? I don't think I've seen that one before," he said, pointing to a small silver instrument that rolled around on the floor near the old man's feet. "Yes, I've been working on it for some time now. It just popped into my head whilst I was knitting last spring and I finished it last week," Dumbledore said, chuckling and lifting his leg as the contraption ran repeatedly into his leg. "What does it do, sir?" Henry asked curiously. "I haven't the slightest idea. Mostly it runs into my feet or the feet of my guests. Please, sit down," the headmaster replied, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. Henry nodded gratefully and closed the door behind him. He settled comfortably in the chair across for Dumbledore. "Tea? Its peppermint," Dumbledore asked, offering a small kettle and cup to the
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boy. Henry took the cup eagerly. "How'd you know that peppermint was my favorite?" "I've known you since you were quite small," he said simply. "How are your classes?" "Oh, fine sir. I've made a lot of friends. They're really cool," Henry said, taking a swig of tea. He spat and coughed. "Hot!" he cried. "Really, really hot!" "My apologies, dear boy, I should have warned you," Dumbledore said sadly, cleaning his desk with a wave of his wand. "Here, stick out your tongue." Henry did as he was told and was relieved by a cooling charm. "Thank you, sir." "No problem, Henry. It was my fault to begin with," he said. "I was wondering something, though, if you don't mind me asking," Henry said hesitantly. "Ask away, my boy, ask away." "What did the thief at Gringott's try to steal?" Dumbledore's smile faltered. "How should I know?" 'A bit defensive, aren't we, Headmaster?' Henry thought smugly. He'd surprised the old man. "Well, my father has friends at Gringott's, and he mentioned to me in a letter that the vault that was broken into was owned by Hogwarts," Henry said casually, sipping his tea cautiously. "Did he?" Dumbledore's eyes hardened and Henry gulped, choking a bit on the still-scalding tea. "Yeah, so I was just curious as to what someone could want so badly from a school. I mean, obviously money, but they could've gotten money from another vault, couldn't they? One that wasn't so heavily warded?" Henry asked innocently. "Yes, I suppose they could have," Dumbledore said quietly, studying the boy with a new interest.
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"So they must have been after something that wasn't anywhere else, right?" Henry pressed. "That would be logical." "So what is so rare and valuable that someone would be willing to break into Gringott's for it? It'd have to be, I dunno, one of a kind, wouldn't it?" "Henry, you should go. You don't want to be caught after hours, now do you?" Dumbledore said, straining for a smile. "You're probably right, sir. I should go to bed," Henry said, masking his mounting frustration and disappointment with a tired smile. "Goodnight, Professor." "Goodnight, Henry." Dumbledore watched the boy leave his office. He was so like James, they could pass for twins, were they the same age, but Henry had his mother's perfect eyesight and critical mind. He was getting too close to the truth. Henry Potter, the boy-who-lived, was to be watched as well. Dumbledore vanished the remains of the tea, put out the lights, and went wearily to bed.

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Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two Hogwarts, Scotland, 20 December, 1991 The past 24 hours had been some of the funniest and most chaotic in Hogwarts history. Mr. Filch had been dosed with a love potion and had been found snogging a broom in the Great Hall. Professors Snape and Sinastra now sported magenta robes, orange skin, green and purple striped hair, and shockingly blue eyes. All of the plants in every greenhouse had been stolen from right under a hysterical Professor Sprout's nose, and Hagrid's dog Fang had been transfigured into a tiny kitten. Dumbledore's beard had been charmed so that it flashed 'Dumbledork' in neon pink letters, and in a move that far outshone the boldness of any House, Professor McGonagall was stuck in her animagus form and had been charmed to flash the Slytherin colors, silver and green, alternately. This was not to mention the droves of students who suffered many ailments, ranging from uncontrollable vomiting to a rapidly spinning head. There was a line down the stairs for the Hospital wing, and Healers from St. Mungo's had been dispatched to assist Madame Pomfrey, who hadn't slept since the pranks had first started. There was even an incident that involved an exploding toilet. "Finite Incanatum!" Dumbledore cried pointing his wand at a decidedly pissed-looking green and silver cat who sat on the stairs nearby. The charm worked and Professor McGonagall appeared, livid and shaking. "I want this to stop, Albus! I'm getting too old for this!" she cried. Her hair was a tangled mass of gray. "If it wasn't the day before Christmas holidays, I'd give every student in this school detention until they told us who is responsible for all of this!" "Yes, it is getting a bit out of hand, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked, stroking his beard, ignoring the pink glare on his glasses. "A bit? This is the worst I have ever seen the school! I've been here for forty years, and even the incident with the Marauder's didn't cause such chaos!"
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"Perhaps the culprits will tire of their game over the holidays," Albus suggested. "Or they'll use the time off for time to plot to kill us all!" she screamed hysterically. "Now, Professor, as I understand it, one of the rules is that they cannot kill anyone," Albus said, attempting to calm the normally stoic woman before him. "Ha! Rules! Their rules are tricks! Tricks to lull us into a false sense of security so that they can get us when we least expect it!" she replied, gripping the front of the Headmaster's robes and shaking him violently. "Professor, perhaps you should take a vacation," Albus suggested, straightening his robes and adjusting his glasses. "Y-yes, I think that I will. I've never had a vacation," she said thoughtfully. "Somewhere with a beach" Albus nodded, happy that she seemed to have calmed down. "Yes, that's a good idea." "professor?" McGonagall yelped and jumped a foot into the air. A second year Gryffindor stood before her holding a book over his face. "Which way is the Hospital wing?" "You should know by now, MacLaggen," she said stiffly. The boy sighed and moved the book, revealing that his face was on his head upside-down, his eyes where his chin should have been. "Fix this, will you, Albus?" she said tightly as she led the boy to the Healers. The Headmaster hoped fervently that the Healers would take a look at her as well. Room of Requirement, Hogwarts, Scotland Te room was ever changing now. There was still the giant fireplace and overstuffed chairs, but now there were also lavatories, secret passages, and even a greenhouse for all the plants that had been "borrowed".
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Off to the left of the door was a supply closet with an infinite amount of prank merchandice, fanged Frisbees, dungbombs, and powerful fireworks, alon with many, many Tie-Dye balloons, a balloon that turned everything on the person in was dropped upon a different- and thus far clashing- color. "Are you sure that you can't come, Hermione?" Adrian asked her sadly. She shook her head. Her trunk was all packed and she'd even snuck some books out of the restricted section for further research. "I really can't I'm visiting my grandparents in France." "Well, have fun. I have to stay with this idiot for the whole holiday!" Ron said, pointing over his shoulder at Henry, who threw a pillow half-heartedly at him. Ron's parents were going to Romania to visit one of Ron's older brothers, and they'd given him permission to stay with the Potters, who were old friends of theirs. "That sounds like more fun anyway. My Grandfather never lets me eat the gingerbread cookies!" she said, pulling on her hat. "He says they're bad for my teeth." "So why make them?" Ron asked, bewildered. "So he can eat them." "They're just as bad for his teeth as a=they are for yours," Draco said indignantly. "No they aren't." "How come?" Ron asked. "He hasn't got any teeth left." They stared at her, gobsmacked. "What?" "Un-bloody-believable," Ron muttered, dragging his trunk out the door. Hogsmead Station, Scotland They boarded the train an hour later and spent the time plotting, joking, and
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theorizing about what the dog could be guarding. Adrian, Daphne, Draco, and Ron passed the time playing exploding snap, and eventually, they all fell asleep in a great heap in the crowded compartment. When the train arrived in London, they said goodbye and hugs were given (Daphne and Hermione) and they parted ways. Ron left with Henry and his family, Hermione left the platform to meet her parents, Daphne was dragged off, laughing, by her younger sisters. Blaise sauntered off with his drop-dead gorgeous mother, and Neville left with a severe-looking elderly woman whom they assumed to be his infamous Gran. Draco and Adrian were left alone, looking around worriedly. Their parents were never late. "Boys!" They turned, grinning. "Mum!" They ran into her open arms and crushed her with a monstrous hug. "Oh, I've missed you! It's been far too quiet recently, even with- never mind, it's so good to see my babies!" she cried, giving them a monster hug of her own. "Mum, you're embarrassing us," they laughed. "Where's Dad?" "Marvela is teething, and she only stops crying if one of us is holding her," she said. "I can't believe how big you got!" "I can't believe Vela is almost two!" Adrian said sadly. "I feel like we missed it." "You didn't. She's a bit bigger, but still a brat," she laughed. "Your father spoils her rotten." The family hurried off of the abandoned platform, talking and laughing in a most un-Malfoy-ish manner. And if anyone else had been on that platform, they'd notice that none of the three seemed to care.

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Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 23 December, 1991 She was going to lose her mind. There were no more doubts, no more questions about it: Narcissa Malfoy was going to go insane. She and her family threw this party every year, and every year it got harder to concentrate and the list of last minute "touches" became longer. She still had to put up all of the decorations, make sure that her children hadn't blown anything up, confirm the musicians, and make sure Lucius had picked up the costumes for the house-elves. She rubbed her temples tensely. And this year, the Potter's, Greengrass's, Zabini's (or whatever her last name was now), and Longbottom's were coming. The Weasley's had been invited as well, but they'd declined. Their daughter was coming, though, along with their youngest son who, as her sons had assured her, was nothing like his brothers. The boys were upstairs, panning the activities for the younger guests, as they'd also mentioned that watching adults "mingle" for hours on end was "dead boring". She had to agree. All of the parties she'd attended as a girl had been stuffy and boring. Luckily, Lucius was her friend and often found a way to sneak away with her, or she was sure she'd have died of sheer boredom. She smiled at the memory of one particular night when they'd sneaked into Hogsmeade and gotten smashed at the Three Broomsticks. Neither of their parents were at all pleased. "Mum? Can we put a big slide on the back staircase?" Adrian called. That snapped her out of her reverie. "No, you may not! You may use the spare parlor for your festivities, and remember that you have reputations to keep intact." "Fine," he called back, slamming the door.
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She sighed and went back to the list. "Mama!" She looked up and directly into the teary eyes of her daughter. "What's wrong, baby?" "Uwsa!" she cried. "Accio Ursa!" Narcissa said tiredly, waving her wand. The bear came flying out of the kitchen and hit the tired woman in the head. "Here you are, Vela." Lucius came down the stairs in n Nothing but pajama pants, and Narcissa studied his finely muscled chest, arms, and stomach before returning to the list. She was tired, not dead. "You should take a break, Narcissa. You've been up all night," he said, scooping the toddler off of the desk. "I'm not tired," she replied, the sentence nullified by the huge yawn that escaped her a moment later. He chuckled and set a squirming Marvela on the floor. "You need to sleep," he said. "I'll stun you if I have to." "Alright, but could you floo the musicians and tell them that we'll pay after they've played, and then go to Diagon Alley and pick up some more decorations, and then." Her head had been dropping lower and lower as she went on, and she was now fully asleep on her list. Lucius smirked, rolled his eyes, and picked her up easily out of her chair. He carried her up to their bedroom and set her on the bed gently, covering her with the comforter and knowing full well that she'd only kick the blankets off. He got dressed quietly and grabbed his cane from his closet. After warning his
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twins that there would be hell to pay if they woke their mother, he dressed Marvela in her warmest clothes and flooed to the musician's studio. "What?" "I'm sorry, Mister Malfoy, but the band is very ill. We've been meaning to floo-" "And now, my wife's party is tomorrow, we have over fifty guests, and no music?" Lucius said, voice shaking with his mounting fury, "because you 'meant to floo'?" The manager quailed under Lord Malfoy's raptor-like glare. The baby on his hip didn't seem to detract from the fear he radiated. "Yes, w-well, you'll get your money back, of course, and we-" "Oh, I will get my money back, and you will pay me not to spread it around that your business is so disorganized and sloppy that the Weasley's wouldn't hire you for a barbeque!" he shouted at the man, reducing the poor manager to a quivering mass. Shaking, Lucius stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him so hard the windows shook. "And that," he whispered to his daughter, "is how Daddy can get whatever he wants from everyone but Mummy." She nodded solemnly, seeming to take her father's words to heart. "That's my girl. Now, did your mother need gold or silver bulbs?" he asked. "Puwple!" "Purple isn't a Christmas color, brat," he chuckled, pulling the hood of his black wool cloak over his head. "'s my favowit!" she said, spreading her arms wide and giggling. "Of course," Lucius said seriously. "Da?" she asked, tugging lightly on his hair. "Yes?"
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"No music?" she asked. "None yet, and I'm afraid that if I tell your mother, her head will actually explode," he sighed. The little girl's widened and her bottom lip started to quiver. "No, no, no! Daddy was only joking!" he said quickly, bouncing her u and down. "Lucius?" He turned, smiling, and came face to face with none other than James and Lily Potter. "Good afternoon, Lord and Lady Potter." "Good afternoon. Bit of last minute shopping?" Lily asked him, smiling and waving at Marvela, who hid shyly. "Yes, just some Christmas decorations," he replied stiffly. "We're looking forward to your party tomorrow night," Lily continued, still smiling. Lucius forced a smile back onto his face. "We are as well. I really must be going. So much to do, not nearly enough time. Good day." "Good day," they said, walking off arm in arm. "Da?" "Yes, Vela?" Lucius said, strolling into the holiday shop. "She has gween eyes," she said critically. "She does indeed." "Like Adwian's." Lucius stopped in his tracks. He flipped through his memories of Adrian before the ceremony, and he did indeed have eyes like those of Lily Potter, and unruly black hair like her husband. Was Adrian, the boy he'd loved and raised as his own, a Potter?
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Dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuuuuun! Hahahahaha, so Lucius is catching on. Finally! By the way, I made an error: Marvela is almost three, not two. Sorry. Anyways, read and review. I'm sick, so reviews make me feel all better.

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Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four Wiltshire, England, 24 December, 1991 Walking through the knee-deep snow was not easy, which is part of the reason none of the inhabitants of the quiet neighborhood ventured outside on this blustery Christmas Eve. If they had gone outside, some of them may have noticed that the foreboding, abandoned manor house at the top of the hill was looking decidedly cheery and well-lit. They may have noticed all of the footprints leading up the hill, and even the dark outlines of many people. They probably would not have noticed the popping sounds that the wind carried away. But none of these things were noticed in any case, because these good people did not venture from their homes, fearing the oncoming blizzard. In the manor house on the hill, however, things were quite busy indeed. Two young boys ran through the halls, waving sticks with wild abandon. A woman, likely their mother, chased a shrieking toddler- who appeared to be riding a broomthrough the house. The father was nowhere to be seen. "Marvela! Come back here!" Narcissa yelled, chasing her daughter down the stairs. She hadn't an inkling of where the little girl had gotten her hands on Adrian's old broom, as she'd given it away years ago. She was also trying to avoid tripping on her dress. She was particularly proud of it, a strapless floor-length gown in a beautiful shade of green with intricate beading on the front. The back of the dress formed a short train. As she raced past Lucius' locked study door, she sighed. Lucius had come home yesterday ashen-faced and had locked himself in his study. He hadn't been out since yesterday. "Boys, will you help me catch your sister before the guests start-" Ding-dong!
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"-arriving," she finished with a loud sigh and a wry smile. Draco calmly levitated his sister off of the broom and into Dobby's waiting arms. The broom clattered to the floor, where it was quickly vanished by one of the elves. She adjusted her hair and her gown before calmly answering the door. The Greengrass family, with all three of their daughters stood at the door, robes swirling around them in the wind. The oldest girl held the youngest's hand and seemed especially eager to get inside. Though that should really come as no surprise, Narcissa supposed, since the girl was rail-thin. Adrian and Draco came in then, robes crisp and pressed. They both bowed low, wands crossed over their hearts in the traditional fashion. When the bow was returned by Lord Greengrass, they stood tall, squared their shoulders, and put their wands back into their robe pockets. The oldest daughter giggled and curtsied, handing her wrap to Dobby, who had appeared suddenly at her side. "Welcome, Lord and Lady Greengrass," Narcissa said, beckoning them inside with a small smile. Marvela toddled in and shrieked happily at the sight of the oldest girl. "Daphne!" she exclaimed. Daphne smiled and nodded. "That's right. How did you know that?" "Adwian said you were weally pwetty," she giggled. Adrian, face red as any Weasley's, came up behind her and clapped his hand over her mouth, laughing nervously. "The party for all the younger guests is in the parlor. I'll show everyone where it is." He hurried off in the direction of his and Draco's party, ignoring Draco's smirk and Daphne's equally red face. Draco, still smirking snapped his fingers and an elf appeared, grabbed Marvela's arm, and disappeared, presumably to put the little girl to bed.
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Narcissa lead the adults into the ballroom where pre-charmed music was playing quietly. The ballroom was quite possibly the most beautiful area in the manor. It was a relic of a more refined age, when class and elegance meant everything. The wallpaper was silver and green, of course, with the green forming delicate vines and the silver as the backdrop. The ceilings soared, and skylights showed the snow swirling in the moonlight high above. Windows ran from floor to ceiling, and were covered slightly by draperies the same shade of green as the vines upon the walls. Candles hung above the dance floor, casting the entire room in a soft glow of light. On the far wall was a long table covered in plates of food prepared specially by imported house-elves. Narcissa was proud of her sons. They'd been respectful and straightforward, and except for Marvela's little slip, had behaved admirably. Briefly, Narcissa toyed with the idea of Adrian and Daphne. True, they were both young, and non-heirs were rarely matched, but she was an heiress, and Adrian came from one of the oldest and wealthiest families in England. They were friends, and seemed fond of one another She shook her head and laughed quietly at herself. Thinking of such things was ridiculous. They were only children, after all. A familiar hand slipped into hers and another around her waist, and she had to smile. "I'm sorry for being late," he whispered. "Something came up that needed my attention." She turned and took in his perfectly-tailored silver robes, dark green vest silver dress shirt, dark green tie, and that smile he only had for her. His long hair was tied back, showing off his sharply carved features and sparkling gray eyes. "Are you sure you can tear yourself away?" she asked wryly. "Anything for you, Narcissa. Even tearing myself away from a fascinating history lesson," he chuckled, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. She started to question him further when the Goyle's were shown in, the Nott's right behind them. Lord and Lady Malfoy greeted them graciously, and then the guests began arriving in a constant stream.
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Many of the oldest families were there, and they mingled in a typical society fashion; polite, even jovial, on the outside while plotting to overthrow, defame, or blackmail whoever they were talking to. It was like a choreographed dance, light and easy in the foreground with darkness, secrecy, and intricacy weaved in the back. All of the guests had arrived by now, and the children had been led to their party. All of the guests, that is, but the Potter's, the two Weasley children, and Severus. The party was in full swing when Dobby alerted her that the Potter family had arrived at last. She found Lucius, and they slipped unnoticed from the party to greet their guests. Lord and Lady Potter beamed at their hosts, both dressed as they should be; she in a flowing turquoise dress with a scarf over her arms, he in a set of black robes with a scarlet shirt and dark gold tie, the Potter signet ring on his finger. Lily greeted them warmly before beckoning the children into the house. The Potter's boy greeted them shyly and apologized for his behavior over the summer. He wore robes similar to what her own sons wore, black silk with a suit underneath, and a yellow tie. The Weasley boy bowed in a traditional fashion, very formal and serious. His hair was gelled back and he wore what were obviously hand-me-down robes, faded but well fitting on his lean frame, no doubt due to some help from his mother. The girl was pale and nervous, but very determined, and she curtsied, albeit a bit clumsily. Lucius and Narcissa returned the formal greetings, surprised that lowly Weasley's knew the traditional and respectful way in which purebloods greeted one another. Adrian and Draco came out into the foyer, smiling at the sight of their friends. The door burst open then, a cold blast hitting them all as Severus Snape walked in, scowling and covered in snow. "It's a bloody blizzard out there! How you expect people to get through that, I haven't the faintest idea, Lucius! Did you have to make it so damned cold?" he spluttered, shaking snow from his hair and robes, not noticing that there was another family in the foyer. When he looked up, ready to yell at his friend some more, his eyes caught those of Lily Potter. He froze.
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"Hello, Severus," she said quietly, a tiny, sad smile on her lips. "Hello, Lil- Lady Potter," he replied, bowing. He ducked his head at James, shooting him a dirty look, and bowed to his hosts. "I apologize for my tardiness, Lucius. I hope I caused no trouble." "None at all, my friend. We were a bit concerned, though. It isn't like you to be late," Lucius said, smiling. Severus suddenly got a nauseated look on his face as he took in who exactly was in the entryway. Henry, Draco, Adrian, Lily and James, and Lucius and Narcissa. "Are you well, Severus?" Narcissa asked. "You look ill." "Y-yes, I'm fine. Shall we?" he asked hurriedly. Lucius stared at him shrewdly, his raptor gaze making another appearance. Severus Hurried into the ballroom, black cloak flowing behind him. "Why is Uncle Sevewus acting funny?" They all looked up and saw Marvela peering at them from the top of the stairs, where she stood in her pajamas, bear in hand. "Vela, you're supposed to be in bed," Narcissa sighed. "I'm not t-tiwed," the little girl yawned. The adults laughed, and Narcissa went up the stairs to put her daughter back to bed. "Hey, our party's this way," Draco said, jerking his head over his shoulder. "Let's go." Ron, Ginny, and Henry followed the brothers into a large room where a party indeed in full swing. The Weird Sisters were wailing away on their instruments, and everyone was dancing wildly. Ginny, Ron's younger sister looked on the scene with wide eyes, but Ron merely whooped and joined the mob. Laughing, Adrian and Draco followed after him, disappearing into. Henry grabbed some butterbeers from a passing house-elf and, spotting a table
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across the room, motioned for Ginny to join him. She smiled and followed after him. Though she'd been in awe of him at first, a few days in his home had proven that he was an ordinary, albeit shy, eleven-year old boy. He was an exceptionally talented artist, though he denied it, and she found Henry Potter fascinating. They got along really well, harassing Ron together at every opportunity. "Is this what all these parties are like?" Ginny yelled over the music. "I was about to ask you the same thing!" he yelled back. "How should I know? I've never been invited to a place like this!" she replied, laughing. "Me either. Well, I suppose I have, but I've never been to one," Henry said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mum and Dad are pretty strict on that. They try to keep me pretty grounded." "I'm glad. You'd be no fun if you were an arrogant git," she laughed. "Yeah, well, I was, but your brother and the others beat my ego into submission," he smiled. "I'm glad they did." The music suddenly turned to something quieter and slower. Out the corner of his eye, Henry saw Adrian ask Daphne to dance, stuttering and burning red. She nodded and they danced awkwardly. "D'you want to dance?" Ginny asked. "Sure," Henry laughed. "Aren't I supposed to ask you?" "Usually, yes," she said, taking his hand and pulling him onto the floor. "But you seem to be a most unusual person." He laughed and they swayed to the easy beat, laughing at Ron who was dancing with a simpering Pansy Parkinson, not seeming happy in the least with his partner. Draco was also laughing at the pair of them, and Henry supposed that Ron had lost some bet or other.
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"This is more fun than I thought it'd be," Henry admitted, looking at the other partygoers. "I didn't think I'd be very welcome here." "Me either. I'm glad I stayed in England," she said. "Romania smells like smoke." "Interesting. Why is that?" Henry joked. "Couldn't be the dragons, could it?" "I don't think so. Perhaps the Muggles have a factory?" she mused. The music picked back up then, and they wandered back to their table. As they watched, Ron broke free of Pansy's grip and ran over to Draco, face twisted in anger. He swung mightily and landed a heavy blow on the other boy's arm. Draco yelped, jumped up, and returned the hit. This went on for almost a minute when Neville wandered over, slapped them both on the back of their heads, and strolled away. They stared after him, thunderstruck. Henry and Ginny busted up laughing at Neville's boldness. Perhaps he belonged in Gryffindor after all.

The adult party was awkward at best. The Potter's and Mrs. Longbottom were ostracized by the Slytherin-heavy crowd, but made light of it, visiting easily and laughing. Severus Snape approached their table and asked to speak with Lily. She readily agreed, and they walked off onto the balcony. "What do you want, Severus?" she asked. The balcony had been charmed to keep out the snow and cold, and watching the stark-white snow dance through the dark night was fascinating. "I-I don't believe I ever apologized- really apologized- for what I said all those years ago. I never meant it, not for a moment, and I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry," he blurted. "You're forgiven, Severus."

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"Good, because now I have a question." "Ask away," she said, watching the snow swirl, her back to him. "What happened to Harry James Potter?" She stiffened. "You had twins, didn't you?" Severus asked. "I remember reading it in the Prophet ." Oh, how that article had torn him apart. "Y-yes, James and I had twins, but-" "So where is your other son?" he pressed. "Why isn't he with your family? Did he die?" "NO!" she shouted at him. Steadying herself on the railing, she said more quietly, "No, he didn't die." "Then where is he?" "I don't know," she said, tears of anger in her eyes. "I don't know where he is." "I might." Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? No, Sev, no! I gave you all an extra long chapter, in hopes that you'll forgive me for making you wait so long. But I'm back now, and ready for all of you to review like mad! I also have a pic of Narcissa's dress in my profile, along with a new picture of Sev. Please don't hate me! -TheNefariousMe
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Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 24 December, 1991 He snorted, pacing back and forth in front of the door in the small room. It was ridiculous! He'd been here nearly a month and found nothing! They seemed to be perfectly normal, no secret meetings, no midnight excursions, no trips to foreign countries, nothing. He snarled in frustration and kicked the door, wincing as his foot began to throb. He couldn't believe it; just when the boy had been about to arrive, he'd had to go elsewhere. It was just his luck, really. These kinds of things happening shouldn't surprise him anymore. He jumped onto the bed to sleep, resigned to the fact that he was doomed to be damned in every attempt in his life. Distantly, he heard someone hurry up the stairs. The door opened, and a tall blond woman stood there, smiling down at him. He yelped as she put a collar around his neck and beckoned him down the stairs. He followed grudgingly, trotting down the stairs at her side.

"Severus, do you know where Harry is?" Lily asked. "I said I might. Why isn't he with you?" "We gave him up for adoption, after Voldemort attacked," she whispered. At Severus' disgusted look, she added, "We didn't want him growing up in his brother's shadow."
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"You would have loved them both, Lily," Severus said, "I know- knew- you. They'd have been fine together." "I know that now, but we were afraid and young. We only wanted what was best for him!" "Giving him away wasn't the answer," he said, advancing slowly toward her. "You aren't his mother anymore, Lily. You don't need to know, and I won't tell you." He watched as something broke behind her tear filled eyes, impassive face never showing how this ripped him into pieces. He'd made a vow ten years ago to a little boy, to do what was best for him and keep him from harm, a vow he'd made the same day he'd finally accepted that he could never have her and should try to move on. That same little boy still needed him, and he would honor his vow. Lost true love or no. "Is something wrong here?" James asked, standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest and magic crackled around him like bursts of light. "No, Potter. Nothing's wrong," Severus sneered, and pushed past him into the ballroom. Lily started to follow after him, but James held her in place. "I think we should go, Lily," he said gently. She nodded numbly, and they said their goodbyes to Augusta Longbottom. They apologized to Lucius, saying that they really must get back home. "The children may stay until the end of the party, if you wish," he offered stiffly, avoiding looking at them lest the disdain show on his face. "It would be difficult to find them right now." They thanked him, promising to return in a few hours. An elf brought them their coats, and they were gone. "May I have everyone's attention?" Lucius called. The thirty or so children were ushered into the ballroom by an elf, and floating champagne glasses appeared at everyone's elbows. They took them for the traditional toasts.
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"I propose a toast to all of you here. Friends, family, and colleagues, my family and I are truly honored that you all attended," he said, smiling. Everyone raised their glasses and drank. "I would like to make a toast to the children; may they grow to be strong, healthy, and old," Narcissa said, raising her glass. The children looked confused, but the adults understood: it was a prayer from victims of a catastrophic war that their children would grow old and happy without being haunted by their pasts. "I propose a toast to the economy! May it continue to make me rich!" someone called from the back. There were several laughs at this statement, though Ron and Ginny Weasley looked uncomfortable. There were several other toasts before someone sneered, "Here's to Henry Potter, the bloody boy-who-lived; may he continue to avoid death and all his minions." The large room fell silent, and Goyle, Sr. strode up to the young boy. "Let us hope that Mr. Potter will always be around to save the day." "Don't worry," Henry said through gritted teeth, face red with anger and humiliation, "I will be." "Not if I have any say," the man snarled. And at that moment, a most curious thing happened: the smirking Mr. Goyle vanished into thin air, leaving his wand, clothing, and toenails behind. The room erupted, screams, shouts, and various other signs of distress tearing through the partygoers. No one seemed to notice the two boys simultaneously collapse, clutching their chests, screams lost in the chaos. One's chest burned bright, illuminating the white shirt he wore so it glowed, the other was swarmed by shadow, a dark shape on the crowded floor. Draco saw his brother fall from across the room, but before he could fight his way through the crowd, a huge black dog bounded toward Adrian, snapping at the heels of anyone who got in its way. It halted at his brother's side and began sniffing him anxiously.
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Adrian's eyes flickered open, taking in something black and hairy sniffing at him. It was a dog. A shaggy black dog whose gray-blue eyes somehow conveyed concern. This dog seemed familiar. "P-Padfoot?" he said dazedly. He then passed beyond the veil of consciousness.

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Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 25 December, 1991 He couldn't believe it. He'd found him at last. It took ten years and two months, but he'd found his Pup. He was currently lying at his Pup's feet on the bed, snoring loudly. The boy kicked him every now and again, but he couldn't care less, as long as it was this boy kicking him. The little girl squealed every time she saw him, patting his head and occasionally tugging on his smooth fur. He obligingly licked her face and woofed as she blabbered on and on. The other boy was quieter, having learned how to safely meet an animal. He mostly left him alone, though he checked on his brother numerous times. The dog snorted. The other boy reminded him of a mother hen. Narcissa was kind to him, brushing out his hair and walking him often. The oddest part of being around her was when he had to have a bath; he tried to ignore the fact that his cousin was bathing him. Lucius was indifferent. He didn't mind the dog overmuch, but he wasn't especially fond of him, either. The dog had pissed in his slippers once, and since then they were at an impasse. All in all, this was a good place to be a dog. Until he could figure out his next move, this is where he would stay. The boy stretched and yawned, ruffling his already messy hair sleepily. He couldn't see anything, so he assumed his glasses were off. Groping blearily on his nightstand, he grabbed them and put them on, yawning again.
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"Now that," he mumbled, "was a party." He heard a snort come from the foot of his bed. Glancing at his feet, he saw a huge black dog. "Where'd you come from?" he asked, surveying it curiously. The dog merely snorted again. Then it jumped off of his bed, took his blanket between its teeth, and pulled the covers off of him. "Hey!" he cried, diving onto the floor, grabbing hold of the blankets and pulling. "These are mine!" The dog growled playfully and jerked its head side to side. Pulling with all its might, it started to drag Adrian toward the door. "Knock it off, you bloody pest!" Adrian growled. "Let. Go!" He gave a mighty heave right as the dog released the blanket, and his momentum sent him crashing into the side of his bed. The dog made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and he narrowed his eyes. "Oh, that's how it's going to be?" The dog seemed to smirk at him, wagging its tail mockingly. He lunged at the dog, grabbing it around its neck. The dog yelped and bucked, trying to shake him off, but Adrian held steady. The dog batted at him with its huge paws and he ducked and dodged, narrowly avoiding having his glasses knocked from his face. "Ha, Mutt!" he crowed. "You can't get me!" That's when his head connected with the dog's. He saw stars and released his stranglehold, blinking dazedly. The dog licked his face apologetically. "Gerroffme," he muttered darkly, shoving it away. The dog let out a sad howl and looked guiltily at him. "Whose dog are you, anyways?" Adrian asked, standing up shakily.
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The dog woofed and rubbed its head on his leg, trying to be cute. "Oh, Merlin. You're my dog?" Adrian cried. "The world has gone mad!" The dog nodded sagely. "At least we agree on something," he muttered. The dog woofed again and trotted out the door. "I'd better go downstairs," he said to himself, "Vela will have a fit if she can't open presents because of me." He put on his slippers, and, yawning, headed downstairs. "Oh, you're awake!" his mother said, embracing him tightly. She anxiously searched his face. "How do you feel?" "I'm fine, Mum, just a bit tired," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Happy Christmas." "Happy Christmas," she smiled. "Now into the drawing room, everyone's waiting. I think your sister is about to explode." Adrian chuckled and jogged into the drawing room. There was a huge Christmas tree in the center of the room surrounded by brightly wrapped packages. His father was holding a squirming red-faced Marvela, and Draco was snoozing on a couch across the room. Draco was not a morning person. The dog trotted in and curled up near the fireplace. His mother shut the doors behind her and sorted the presents into piles for each of them. Adrian received a new green cloak and silver cashmere scarf from Marvela, a pair of special Quidditch goggles from Henry, a book from Hermione, Chocolate Frogs from Ron, a large belt-pouch from Daphne that became invisible to everyone but the wearer, a strange looking plant from Neville, boots from Blaise that were charmed to make no noise, and a book of magical pranks written by "The Marauders" from
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Draco. He assumed the dog was from his parents and with the way they beamed when he thanked them for their gift, he knew he was right. The family then sat around laughing for a bit and went to eat breakfast. After they ate, they listened to the Quidditch game on the wireless and were sorely disappointed when the Montrose Magpies were clobbered by the Hollyhead Harpies. They dressed and ate their formal dinner and went exhaustedly to bed. The dog slept at Adrian's feet again, and he had the sinking suspicion that he would receive another rude awakening in the morning. The dog hogged all his blankets, pushing his legs completely off the bed, and snored as loudly as Draco. He snorted and tried to sleep. The dog was a pain in the arse.

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Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England, 29 December, 1991 It was bloody unfair. Here he was, sitting in his room alone, and everyone else was downstairs, greeting their parents. His brothers ignored him and kept him away from Ginny, afraid he would "contaminate her" with his evil Slytherin ways. His parents had written him often, assuring him that they did not hate him, but talk was cheap. He'd stayed in his room ever since Bill had come and picked him and Ginny up. Bill had also gotten Fred, George, and Percy home to greet their parents. Bill was still good to him, not treating him too much differently. He'd also told him that he fit the traits of a good Slytherin; clever, ambitious, and sly, pointing out that these were all the characteristics of many noble professions. "After all," he'd said, "not all jobs include mindless, thoughtless bravery. That part is only a family tradition." Ron had decided that Bill was an ally. He sat reading a book he'd gotten from Hermione "1001 Ways to Prove You're Evil" by Mangus Murdstone. Most of the ways were jokes, such as accio-ing candy from babies and laughing at misfortune. It was good for a laugh. His favorite present, though was a combined gift from Blaise, Neville, Daphne, Henry, Draco, and Adrian; a Nimbus 1700. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, sleek and shiny. It could go over 120 kilometers per hour, and he'd never had anything even close to it. They'd sent a broom care kit and a book called "Quidditch Through the Ages". He hadn't shown his brothers any of these things. They'd think he was trying to show how much better than them he was.
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He didn't want to be better than them, he just wanted to be different from them. "Is that so bloody difficult to understand?" he yelled at the floor, releasing the outrage at being snubbed by his own family. At the sudden noise, the ghoul in the attic began moaning and hitting all the pipes. He flopped back onto his bed, the springs creaking under his weight, growling in frustration. It was bloody unfair. After a few moments, there was a loud knock at his door. "Come in!" he yelled, unwilling to move. The door squeaked open and his mother stood in the doorway, looking at him nervously. "Mum!" he cried, jumping clumsily to his feet and hugging his mother. She sighed in relief and proceeded to squeeze him so tightly that he was sure he'd pass out. "Oh, I've missed you, Ronnie! How is school? Are Fred and George being awful? Did you make lots of friends? Oh, you're so tall!" He chuckled and they sat on the edge of his bed, catching up. Ron had always been close to his mother. He even showed her his presents. "A broom? Ron, I know you really wanted a new one, but you shouldn't have asked your friends to-" "I didn't ask for it, Mum, they just knew I wanted one. They all paid for it together," he explained quickly. "I'm still not sure I'm comfortable with that kind of gift, Ron," she said, wringing her hands. Suddenly, she smiled brightly. "I know! I'll make them all something!" "No, Mum, please!" Ron groaned. "Oh, don't be silly, Ronald, everyone loves my knitting!" she said, fussing over his hair. "Mum! I like my hair the way it is!" he said, trying to bat her hands away. "It looks like a nest!"
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"Mum! Stop, I'm begging you!" he cried. "Where's Dad?" "Oh, your father had to get to work. Some emergency at the office," she said, smiling bitterly. "Big shock there," he muttered. Ron knew how she felt. It was rare for his father to be home for more than a few hours at a time. He loved his father, he did, but he always felt that he and his brothers and mother and Ginny came second to the Muggles his father protected. It didn't seem right that a man should have so many children and spend so little time with any of them. Thinking of something that may cheer his mother up, he blurted, "Could I have some of my friends over?" Molly Weasley was someone who adored having people at her house. Smiling t him, she ruffled his hair and said, "Of course you can, Ron." He smiled, planted a kiss on her cheek, and dashed off to find Errol, the family's owl. He was excited to see all his friends again, though Adrian had mentioned something about a damn nuisance of a dog that followed him everywhere. Ron shrugged, sure that his friend was only joking with him. As soon as he walked into the living room, all conversations stopped. "What in bloody hell," George started. "Is that?" Fred finished. Ron still had his broom in his hand. He felt all the blood run into his face. "It was a gift," he said quietly. "Oh, a gift! D'you hear that, Fred? He got a brand new broom from his friends," George mocked, grinning evilly. He moved slowly from the couch toward Ron, who suddenly found himself backing into the book case. "Indeed I did, George. Ickle Ronnikins was planning to share his new toy, wasn't he?" Fred asked, blocking the door.
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Ron looked around franticly for Bill or his mum, but there was only Percy. When he tried catching his brother's eye, Percy buried his nose deeper into the book on his lap. He was on his own. Squaring his shoulders, he glared at his tormenters. "Leave me alone. I'm only looking for Errol." "Fine, fine, we'll leave you alone," George said. "But we'll need that broom first," Fred added. Ron tightened his grip on the broom. "It's mine. You can't have it." "You don't even play Quidditch," George said, grabbing hold off the handle. "Not sharing is quite selfish of you, little brother," Fred added, grabbing the footpeg. "What's going on in here?" The three boys looked to see their eldest brother standing sternly behind them, arms crossed over his chest. "Ron here is trying to steal our new broom!" George said, outraged. "It was a gift from our friends!" Fred chimed in. "No I didn't! It's my broom!" Ron yelled angrily. "I got it from my friends!" Bill scrutinized at them. Ron had never seen someone with a ponytail and an earring look so serious. He motioned for them to hand him the broom, which they did willingly. He turned it over in his hands and smiled. "This is a very nice broom. You'd better take care of it, Ron." Ron smiled and took it from his brother, allowing Bill to ruffle his hair. "If you want, I'll take you out later and we can fly," Bill offered, "I just got a new broom myself, though it's nowhere near as nice as this."
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Ron beamed and headed off to search for Errol once more. Once he was out of the room, Bill's demeanor hardened. "Percy, out," he snapped, glaring at the twins. Percy ducked his head and darted out the door, and Bill closed it softly behind him. "What have I told you twerps," he growled, his back to them, "about messing with the younger kids?" Fred and George gulped as he turned to face them. His face was red and he was shaking with rage. "Ron has never had anything of his own, never even had the chance to have anything new, and the first time something new and exciting comes his way, you try to steal it?" he asked them, blue eyes sharp and cold as ice. "What in the name of Merlin is wrong with you?" "Well, he should have to share!" George stammered. "It's a Weasley tradition," Fred nodded. "In case it escaped your notice, idiots," Bill seethed, "Ron is a non-traditional Weasley. It's his broom, from his friends. He doesn't have to do a damn thing. I'd be surprised if he even lets you monkeys near it after this." "But-" they started. Bill cut them off with a wave of his hand. "Never treat him that way again, d'you understand?" Bill warned. They nodded sullenly. "Good." He stormed out of the room, still steaming. A long ride on his broom would do him good. "I can't find Errol!" Ginny yelled from upstairs. Ron swore from the kitchen, and Bill heard the door to the garden slam.
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"He can use Hermes," Percy offered from the chair next to Bill. "I've already delivered all of my presents." Bill smiled and handed Percy a brightly wrapped package from inside his coat pocket. "Happy Christmas, Perce." "Happy Christmas, Bill." Bill reasoned that Percy wasn't half bad, once you knocked him down a peg or two. With that, Bill followed Ron into the garden, grabbing his broom as he went. Flying sooner was always better than later, after all. Ron stood behind the shed, broom over his shoulder, glad that his plan had worked out so easily. Smiling slyly, he patted the square bulge under his coat, reassuring himself that it was still there. There was more than one reason he'd wanted his friends to visit. He'd found something.

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Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight Potter House, Godric's Hollow, England, 28 December, 1991 She had been holding Harry in her arms, whirling him around as he shrieked in delight, her wand lying on the couch in the sitting room. James was in the yard with Henry, shooting sparks out the end of his wand to entertain his young son. And there was a knock at the door. Lily set Harry down carefully and grabbed her wand and stealthily made her way to the door. She flung it open to find Peter Pettigrew, an old friend of James'. "Oh, Peter, you startled me," she breathed, lowering her wand and smiling at him. "James, co-" Peter stepped aside, revealing a tall, cloaked figure behind him. All she could see of the stranger were glowing red eyes A flick of the stranger's wrist, a whispered incantation, and she was trapped. She was flailing in he own mind, fighting against whatever he'd done to her. She'd never suspected but there was no time for that now. She was trapped in her own mind, and she desperately kicked and punched and tore at the net of blackness ensnaring her. Its weight pressed down upon her, trying to suffocate her. The figure was behind Lily, pushing her along, and Peter laughed wickedly, a high, keening noise she'd never heard from him before. She was aware of moving to where James and her children had been, but they were no longer there. She heard a noise from upstairs. She felt herself glide up the stairs, and she struggled all the harder, causing strains in the net, the oppressive ropes fraying slightly.
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'Please, Peter! Please not my family!' she begged, the words never leaving her mind. 'Please, Peter! Don't!' A high, cruel laugh behind her, long fingers grabbing her hair and twisting it. "Thank you, Mrs. Potter," he purred. "Your cooperation has made this all the easier." She struggled, twisted, screamed in her mind but nothing happened. She walked into the nursery, where James had just put both of the boys into Henry's cot. Turning to her, he became confused. "Lily, what is going o-" "Crucio!" He fell to the floor, twitching but silent. It hadn't worked, not fully. "You have to mean it, Mrs. Potter. Perhaps, you should simply put him out of his misery" the cold voice mused. 'NO!' She felt her wand rise. 'Fight! FIGHT!' she screamed in her mind, tearing some of the net away. She felt her lips move. 'No, Lily! Fight!' "Avada Kedavra." He lay still. 'JAMES! I DIDN'T MEAN IT! Please, I didn't mean it!' The cruel laughter sounded, echoing off the walls. Her children wailed.
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"Ah, and here we are, the main attraction," he purred, dragging her with him to the side of the cot and looking down into two sets of eyes, hazel and green. "Look here. Two brats for the price of one" "Lily! Lily, wake up!" Someone was shaking her violently. She opened her eyes, sobbing, and strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. The body smelled of cloves. James. "It was awful," she choked. Her throat felt raw. "You were screaming," he panted. He'd been holding her down, evidently, because he collapsed next to her, sweating and breathing heavily. "Was it the same one?" She nodded and took in her surroundings. It was bright outside, if the light streaming in through the window was any indication. She was in her bedroom in Godric's Hollow. James was here. Henry was in the next room. She was safe. Her nightmare had caused some damage, though. The bed was smoking slightly, the wall behind the bed black and charred. James had angry red burns running up his arms, covering his chest and face. His warm hazel eyes showed no fear of her though, only love and concern. "You didn't kill me," he whispered reassuringly. "You didn't mean it. It didn't work." She buried her face in his chest and breathed him in deeply. "I'm so sor-" He tightened his grip on her and whispered, "There is nothing to be sorry for." He tilted her chin up and kissed her firmly, "I forgave you anything you could ever do when I asked you to marry me." He winced as she squeezed his hand. "About these burns, though" She hastily grabbed her wand from the bedside table and healed the burns. "You'll have to stop doing that," he chuckled wryly. "It's much too hot for me to handle."
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She rolled her eyes at him and pulled on her bathrobe, hiding her smile. "MUM! DAD!" Henry burst into the room face glowing with excitement. Seeing his parents' disheveled appearances and bedding, he wrinkled his nose. "What, Henry?" Lily asked, plastering a fake smile on her face. Luckily, the room was just dim enough that her son didn't notice. "Ron invited me to his house for today! Can I go? Please?" he begged, jumping onto their bed and making a puppy face at them. Lily and James exchanged glances. The Weasley's were good people and old friends, and both Ron and Ginny had been very polite and well-behaved at Christmas. "Sure, you can go," James smiled, ruffling their son's hair. Henry laughed and batted his father's hands away. He hugged both his parents, smiled, and ran off to find hi owl, whooping as he thundered down the stairs. "How do they move so quickly?" James groaned, falling back into the bed. Lily laughed and rolled him onto the floor, where he landed with a dull thump. "You used to be quicker, James." "Yes, but I was on a broom," he retorted, not bothering to get off the floor, simply dragging the comforter off the bed and falling asleep. She laughed and headed down the stairs to get her morning coffee. She marveled at how after all they'd both been through, he never failed to cheer her with a few simple words.

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Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England, 28 December, 1991 Ron waited impatiently by the fireplace, pacing the creaking wooden floors anxiously. Henry, Adrian, Draco, Neville, and Blaise were all coming over this afternoon. He'd invited Daphne and Hermione as well, but they'd already made plans for a "girl's day". Ron shuddered at what such an event may entail. Adrian and Draco had warned Ron that their dog may come as well, since it had yet to leave Adrian's side. Ron snorted at that, a dog, five of his friends, and seven Weasley's was a laughable matter indeed. Unconsciously, he patted the object beneath his sweater, checking again to make sure it was there. If what he'd found was real, it would help them greatly in their quest. If not, it was interesting, at very least. Blaise arrived first, looking as dignified as anyone covered in soot could. They'd talked for a few minutes and sat back on the couches to wait. Henry came next, falling flat on his face. Scowling at their laughter, he hit them both soundly over their heads and sat down across the room from them, fuming and trying to recover his lost dignity. Neville came after Henry in much the same manner, except he took the pile of wood on the hearth with him. Blushing, he picked himself up clumsily and smiled at them. They laughed and re-stacked the wood, slapping him on the back warmly. Right after they'd returned to their seats, Draco stepped coolly out of the fireplace, brushing himself off calmly. "Where's your brother?" Blaise asked, peering around Draco.
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Draco merely smirked and stood aside. They soon had their answer. Adrian came through the Floo, yelling obscenities and hexes and a large black dog that had its jaws firmly clamped on the seat of his pants. "Um, Adrian? I think there's a hairy tumor on your arse," Ron snickered. Adrian scowled darkly at them and continued to try and shake the dog off of him. "Gerroff, you bloody nuisance! Leave me alone!" he yelled. "The dog's name is Loki," Draco told them. "Though Ade calls him Padfoot sometimes." The dog woofed cheerfully at them, as if greeting them, keeping his teeth clamped onto Adrian's pants. "How'd it get here? Animals aren't able to travel by Floo," Neville asked, smiling uncertainly at the dog. "He latched onto Ade's arse just before we Flooed and wouldn't let go," Draco shrugged. "Loki is an odd dog." The dog tugged hard and came away with the seat of his disgruntled master's pants. "Nice boxers, Ade," Henry jeered. Adrian screamed at Loki and lunged. The other boys howled, cheering Loki on. "What is going on in here?" The boys -including the dog- froze. Molly Weasley stood in the doorway, wand in hand. And she looked pissed. "Oh, Mum, these are my friends," Ron said, jumping up. "Blaise Zabini."
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Blaise stood and bowed. "Henry Potter." Henry smiled and waved. "Neville Longbottom." Neville stood too quickly and fell into the overcrowded bookshelf beside him. "And Adrian and Draco Malfoy." Molly visibly stiffened at the name Malfoy. Draco stood, arms extended palms-up in a show of being unarmed and bowed low, in a traditional fashion, as a sign of vulnerability and peace. Adrian shouted a hello as he wrestled Loki for his pants. "Oh, and Ade and Drake's dog Loki," Ron laughed, watching his friend fight a dog at least double his weight. Loki released the fabric- sending Adrian crashing into the wall- and dipped his head, woofing at her. Adrian, rubbing his head ruefully, smiled winningly at her. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for having us over." Molly softened, smiling at the small boy with wild blond hair. "I could mend those, you know." She gestured between his ripped pants and the fabric he clutched in his hand. "You could wear an old pair of Ron's." He smiled gratefully and followed her up the stairs. "So, why did you invite us all here?" Blaise drawled, propping his feet up on the table. "I think I found something," Ron said, glancing around to make sure that none of his siblings were around. He reached into his sweater and pulled out a piece of parchment and a paperback book. They laid the parchment flat and looked at it closely, but it was completely blank.
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"How is this 'something'?" Draco asked hotly. "It's blank, idiot!" Ron smirked at his friend. "Watch." He put his wand against the parchment and monotoned, "Reveal your secrets." The parchment changed. Ink rapidly appeared through the paper, forming an outline of Hogwarts Castle. And then the ink began to form words. "Prongs would like to congratulate you on the finding of the Marauder's Map." "Padfoot wishes he could see your faces." "Moony concurs with Padfoot, and wonders why you have this map in the first place." "Wormtail wishes HE had the map." "I Solemnly Swear, I Am Up To No Good." "A magical map of Hogwarts?" Neville asked, "What does it do?" Ron shrugged helplessly. "I dunno, mate. It does the same thing every time I try it." Henry was smiling in the corner. Actually, he was smirking. "What's got you so happy, mate?" Ron asked. "Ron, you didn't follow the instructions. Look," Henry said, laying the tip of his wand on the map. "I solemnly swear, I am up to no good." The ink immediately flourished across the parchment, forming corridors and labeled rooms and tunnels. There were also tiny dots scattered across the map, each with a name scrawled over it. "Minerva McGonagall, Headmaster's Office," Draco breathed. "Fillius Filch," Neville said in wonder, "third floor corridor!"
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"This is bloody brilliant!" Blaise crowed, pounding Ron on the back. "Henry, how'd you know to do that?" Ron asked. Henry merely smiled and pointed to where Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs had introduced themselves. Now, rather than congratulations and questions, though, were new comments. "Prongs would like to congratulate himself on his son being the one to get the Map. That means I win! Pay up, Padfoot!" "Padfoot would also like to congratulate you, though you are now on his list for costing him fifteen galleons." "Moony wishes to tell Padfoot and Prongs to shut it, and congratulates Mini Prongs on discovering the Map." "Wormtail wishes to say that he is glad that Prongs won the bet, as Padfoot would have been a bloody nuisance." "So, your dad is Prongs?" Neville asked. Henry nodded proudly. "Who is Padfoot?" Draco asked suddenly, eyeing the dog at Neville's feet. "Uh, I dunno, actually. Dad's never told me," Henry shrugged. Draco narrowed his eyes at the dog, and Loki glared right back. "What'd I miss?" Adrian asked, sitting next to Ron. He was wearing faded gray slacks that were several inches too long for him. "Oh, we opened a map," Henry shrugged. "Fun," Adrian yawned. "Anything else?" "We were about to look at this book," Ron said, handing it to his friend. "The Alchemist?" Adrian asked.
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"It wasn't a large book, maybe a few hundred pages at most, and the front cover looked like a mosaic. "This is a Muggle book, Ron," Adrian snorted. "How will this help?" "It mentions the Elixir of Life," Ron smirked, "and what creates the elixir." "What is it?" Draco asked excitedly, wrenching the book from Ron's hands. "The Philosopher's Stone." Alright, boys, girls, and other sentient beings of Earth! Here they are! Two important chapters in one day! WooHoo! Enjoy, read, REVIEW!

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Chapter 40
Chapter Forty Library, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 1 January, 1991 "Achoo!" "Ade, knock it off!" Draco scolded. "Malfoy's do not sneeze." Adrian rolled his eyes and continued stacking ancient- and heavy- tomes on the table before him. Ever since Ron's revelation about the Philosopher's Stone, every Firebrand was busily researching anything and everything they could find on the subject. Each of the friends had a large magical library available to them (except Hermione, who was a Muggleborn), many books in them being either firsthand accounts or family histories. Adrian and Draco had considered asking their parents to help them in their search, at least to locate books on magical artifacts, but they'd decided against it. They had so many books that could relate to artifacts, though none that necessarily did, and had been at it for hours. Moving through the narrow aisles between the shelves and walls was difficult, especially if there were two unneeded hindrances following you about "Yah!" Marvela cried, digging her tiny heels into the sides of the disgruntled black dog that was carrying her around. She'd learned a few days ago that Loki could easily hold her weight and the poor dog had been carting her around ever since. He bore his young burden well, however; never once so much as growling at his rider, instead taking her wherever she pleased, so long as Adrian and Draco were in sight. "Hey Drake, I think I found one!" Adrian called loudly. He hadn't any idea where in the vast library his brother was, so he just yelled at the room at large. "What is it called?" Draco yelled back, from somewhere to the left of Adrian.
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"Ah, Magiks Moste Momentous: Magicians, Sorcerers, and Seers throughout the Ages," he replied, heaving the dusty, unwieldy book off of the shelf. "Compiled by Bertram Buskenshield." "Good, I'll be right there. I can't see anything relevant over here, anyway," Draco yelled, his voice growing louder as he came nearer. Adrian lugged the tome to the table- which buckled slightly under all the weightand dropped his load gratefully. He sat at the table, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes wearily. It had been a long week. A nudge at his knee caused him to laugh harshly. Loki, the bloody nuisance, had still followed him wherever he went, running into his legs constantly. His mother had hesitantly suggested that Loki was Adrian's familiar, but he had dismissed the idea. One had to at least like their familiar, didn't they? And familiars had to go everywhere with their Masters. Even school. Adrian supposed that having a dog at Hogwarts would be interesting, albeit irritating. He also didn't know of anyone else who had a familiar, so he guessed that would be cool. Not that he needed- or wanted- any more attention. Draco sat next to him, and together, the brothers studied their collection; more than twenty books, all told, and each bigger than the thickest textbook at Hogwarts. Adrian felt himself growing angry and frustrated. It was ridiculous for eight eleven year olds to be doing this sort of work! Why didn't the adults take care of things, the way they were supposed to? Why couldn't children like themselves rest easy, secure in the knowledge that adults would take care of them? It shouldn't be their responsibility! It. Wasn't. FAIR! "Ade?" He could barely hear his brother; winds tore the words from his mind before he could process them, and lightning blinded him. A crash of thunder deafened him.
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Why should it be their job? Why couldn't the adults do ANYTHING right themselves? It didn't make any sense! He gripped his head in his hands. If he didn't, he felt certain that it would fly off his shoulders. "ADE! Calm down! It's alright! I'm going to get Mum and Dad!" He was unaware as his brother dragged him bodily from the library, shouting reassurances to their panicked sister and casting a shield charm on her as bookshelves began sliding toward the unresponsive boy, the glass panes in the windows shuddering and warping. Loki, still carrying the toddler on his back, followed the brothers out of the library and hurried up the stairs to a safer location. "Mum! Dad!" Draco screamed, willing his parents to hear him. "Help me! Please!" Though his brother had collapsed many times before, he'd never seen Adrian's magic erupt so uncontrollably. 'He could have hurt Marvela, or me. Hell, he could kill us without meaning to,' Draco thought, his ideas whirling wildly out of his control. 'He could do it so easily' He shook himself free of such ideas. His brother would never hurt him, or anyone else for that matter, so long as they weren't a threat. "Draco, what-" Narcissa said, coming out of the kitchens. Upon seeing the state of her sons, she blanched. "Oh, Adrian. Here, Draco, I'll take his arms, and you take his legs. Bring him into the parlor." They hastily set him on a couch and Narcissa cradled his head in her lap, stroking his flyaway hair off of his pale clammy face. "Thank you, Draco. I'll take it from here." Draco took that as his cue to leave and quietly left the room. He opened the door and found their dog sitting just outside, looking as mournful as any dog Draco had ever seen. Draco knelt beside the dog and ruffled its ears. "He'll be alright," he said, though to himself or the dog in front of him, he was unsure.
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The dog licked his face and crept into the room, padded feet silent on the plush carpet. Draco stared after him, a calculating look on his face, and dashed up the stairs after his sister. Loki walked right up to where Adrian lay on the couch and jumped up next to his young master, gently putting his snout on his young master's chest. He howled pitifully. And Adrian's eyes flickered open. Nacrissa's face paled with shock; Adrian had never awakened like this before. "Wha- Mum, what happened? I don't" he mumbled, seeming as though he'd only just woken up rather than if he'd collapsed. He glanced at the dog lying on his chest and smiled, scratching his head dazedly. "Thank you, Padfoot." The dog sighed and woofed softly and licked Adrian's face. Adrian sat up a moment later, looking dizzy. He'd left his glasses in the library, and everything looked warped, fuzzy. "I didn't even feel it coming this time," he muttered. "I only had a moment's warning, and it was like a typhoon." Narcissa pulled him to her chest, holding him there tightly. She was trying to keep from shaking uncontrollably. She never liked to see her baby in such a state. "It isn't your fault, Adrian. If anyone's, it ours, your father's and mine; we didn't get you treated early enough, didn't tell your uncle what was wrong soon enough-" She was cut off by a hug that took her breath. "Don't say that Mum. Never say that! You can't blame yourself for things you have no control over," Adrian said firmly, silver-green eyes meetings his mother's blue ones. She smiled at him. "Neither can you, Adrian. You can't blame yourself for something that isn't your fault any more than I can." He narrowed his eyes at his mother, smiling crookedly. "Using my own arguments against me to prove a point? Very Slytherin of you, Mum." "I should hope so. That's where I spent seven years of my life, after all." Neither Malfoy noticed the dog creep out of the room and run out the back door. And no one heard the anguished cry as a man stood, tall and proud, where a dog had been only moments before.
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Well, no one except one little girl who was hiding in the bushes

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Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 1 January, 1991 The man stood there, screaming and screaming. It was horrifying, to watch the boy in such pain, to watch anyone in such pain. He felt as though he was being ripped apart. He took a breath and prepared to shout again when he heard a tiny whimper from the bushes behind him. He turned slowly, and saw Marvela Malfoy looking at him, terrified. He knelt in front of her, slowly, so as not to startle her. "Marvela?" She yelped and scrambled away from him, whimpering as the bush's thorns dug into her soft skin. "Go 'way! Bad dog! Go 'way!" He reached toward her and she moved deeper into the bush, looking at his outstretched hands as though they were poison. "Marvela, I won't hurt you." "No! Go 'way, bad dog! Bad man! Go 'way!" she screamed. He sighed, grabbed her quickly, and pulled her out of the thorn bush. "No, I will not go away. I am your friend. Loki." She cocked her head to the side, and proceeded to examine him, poking, prodding, and pulling on his face, hair and beard. "Loki!" He sighed in relief. "Yes, Vela, Loki. I am a friend. I want to help your brother." "Dwaco?" she asked, confused. "No, Ha- Adrian." She nodded sagely. "Good. Adwian in twouble. Fiwebwands." "Firebrands? What are Firebrands?" he asked. "Why is he in trouble?"
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She shrugged and shivered violently. "I'd better get you back inside, you'll catch your death out here," he muttered. "Marvela, do you know what a secret is?" She nodded eagerly. "Me being Loki is a great big secret, Vela. You can't tell your mummy, or brothers or dad, alright?" "'kay." "Do you promise me?" he pressed. "I pwomise, Loki," she said, her wide eyes earnest and truthful. Relieved, he sat her on a nearby bench and walked behind a bush to transform, as it wasn't a pleasant sight for young eyes. Whispering the incantation, he felt the familiar flood of his senses. Everything was too loud, too bright now. He felt his bones rearranging themselves, felt the painful sensation of his knees bending backward, his face lengthening, his ribcage reshaping itself, and of millions of hairs sprouting all over his body. Though this process took only a moment, it left him slightly exhausted each time. He trotted back over to Marvela and liked her teary face, causing her to giggle. She clambered onto his back and they trotted back into the house. Later that night, Marvela toddled away from her family for the second time that night, into a cupboard that was rarely ever used and was quite dusty, a set of robes in the far corner. She reached up and closed the door, locking herself into the darkened space. And she grew, taller and taller, the adorable baby fat melting away, the features sharpening, the hair became shorter, and the eyes changed to a stormy gray. Draco Malfoy stepped out of his sister's now-shredded pajamas, stretching and cracking his neck experimentally. He examined himself, and everything seemed normal. Satisfied, he pulled on his robes, brushing the dust off of them. He made his way up the stairs, where Marvela was sleeping soundly in his bed, wearing oversized black robes and snoring.
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He picked his sister up and set her gently in her own bed, wrapping her in a warm blanket. He smiled as he walked down the empty hall. His extra potions lessons were paying off, after all; the Polyjuice potion had worked flawlessly. I know, I know, I am so very sorry to keep y'all waiting for such a long time. I am a horrid person, but my computer became terribly ill, and had to go to the doctor's, and then it kept on happening! Howard (my computer) seems to be much better now, though, so I pray that you find it in yourselves to forgive me! I will post more today, since I have no school, and again, I am deeply sorry! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two Platform 9 3/4, King's Cross Station, London, England, 7 January, 1991 He was happy to be going back to school. How disgusting was that, to wish to go back to school at the end of the holidays? He barely knew himself anymore, it seemed. He adjusted the leash around his wrist and sighed. The dog was coming back with him. After what had happened last week, his parents had insisted that he take the bloody dog with him to school. Draco had been acting odd recently, smirking at the dog, whistling, and being altogether much too chipper for someone with so much weight on his skinny shoulders. He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter. He was wearing the one Marvela had given him for Christmas, and he was pleased to find that it was also under permanent warming and water-wicking charms. His mother fussed over his tie and naturally disheveled hair, seeming to forget that no charm she'd ever tried could get his sandy hair to lie flat, nor could any potions or tonics. Sighing, she gave up on his "hopeless mop" and moved on to Draco. She was trying to keep up a bold front, but nothing could hide the sadness that her sons were departing once more, until Easter, at very least, and they weren't the most regular writers. She was going to miss them. The Express arrived, and the Malfoy family said their goodbyes. Lucius slipped something into Draco's robe pocket discretely and ushered his sons (and their dog) onto the train.
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He and Draco found and empty compartment and waited for the other Firebrands to arrive. The dog yawned loudly, curled into a furry ball, and promptly fell asleep. Draco eyed the dog warily. "I don't think Professor Dumbledore will let Loki stay at school." "Why not?" Adrian asked, leaning back into the seat. "Well, I don't think dogs are usually familiars, do you?" Draco asked sarcastically. "I don't know actually. I haven't had time to research anything except the Philos-" Draco clapped his hand over his brother's mouth, shushing his twin and glancing nervously at the snoring dog at their feet. Adrian bit his brother's hand as hard as he could without drawing blood. Draco yelped and jerked his hand back. "What in bloody hell was that about?" Adrian spat, temper rising. "I just think we should wait until the others get here before we start talking," Draco said, scowling at his brother. "You didn't have to bite me." "Fine," Adrian groused. "And I really did have to bite you." "Any reason why?" Draco asked hotly. His brother merely shrugged. "None whatsoever. I felt the urge?" Draco snorted. Sometimes, having a half-crazy brother was a pain in the arse. The others trickled in, one or two at a time, the compartment cramped and uncomfortable when they'd all arrived. Henry hastily found a seventh year boy who grudgingly expanded their compartment for them. Far more comfortable now, they settled in for the long ride back to school. "So, did anyone find anything interesting?" Hermione asked impatiently. It was pain to see that she hated not being able to help. "Dusty books," they all replied in unison.
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"I didn't even know where all the books I found are from," Ron moaned. "A bookshelf fell on me," Blaise offered. "I found something," Daphne said smugly. "Well, tell us then!" Neville said after a few moments of silence. She pulled a thin, leather-bound book from her bag. 'Artefacts of the Gods,' was scrolled in faded gold lettering on the front. "Uh, Daphne? How old is this book, exactly?" Henry asked as a page crumbled to dust at her touch. "I don't know, late seventeenth century, maybe?" she shrugged. "Mum says one of her ancestors wrote it." "Lucky. All of my family is dentists," Hermione grumbled. "What's a dentist, Hermione?" Neville asked. "A Muggle healer for teeth," she explained. "Oh," he said, looking puzzled. "Hermione, why don't they fix your teeth?" The others sucked in a collective breath, waiting for Hermione to blow up on Neville, but she only sighed. "They won't do anything until I am older, and they don't want me doing any spells to fix them, either, even though I've found quite a few," she said patiently. "Oh. What gits, being able to fix teeth and not fixing their own daughter's!" Hermione sighed and nodded in brooding agreement. "Now, there's a problem with this book: you lot can't read it," Daphne continued, irritated at being interrupted. "What do you mean we can't read it?" Hermione cried, leaping to her feet indignantly. "If this is some high and mighty pureblood sh-" "No, no, it's not that at all, it's just that it can only be read by a Greengrass,"
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Daphne explained quickly. "Here, look. If you aren't a Greengrass, the letters will look completely jumbled to you." Hermione snatched the old book from her friend and squinted at the centuries-old pages. "It's absolute gibberish!" she cried. "It's fairly common, or was, anyway, to keep books under blood protection charms. As long as the line carries on, the protection will hold," Daphne explained. Hermione nodded thoughtfully and handed the delicate book back. "I learned that the Stone has only been made three times, and never recently," she said with a shrug. "Well, you wouldn't need to be recent if you were immortal, would you?" Ron snorted. "OF COURSE!" Hermione screamed, leaping from her seat and dashing out of the compartment. "What in bloody hell was that about?" Ron scowled, rubbing his ear. "I think you gave her an idea, mate," Henry said. "For what, deafening innocent people?" he cried. He fell to his knees on the floor of the compartment. "I'm sorry, world! It was me, Ronald Bilius Weasley, who gave that mad witch an idea! I apologize for my own stupidity!" Hermione burst back into the compartment, beaming and clutching a massive book to her chest. "What is this?" Ron cried as she tossed it onto the seat, narrowly missing his head. "I believe that it is a book, Ronald," Blaise said in a near-perfect imitation of Hermione. Ron half-heartedly threw a mild hex at him, missing as Blaise ducked. "I know what it is, git," he growled, clambering back onto the bench. "Well then why did you ask?" Neville yawned.
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Ron scowled at the lone Gryffindor. "How could I have been so thick?" Hermione said. "I checked this book out ages ago for a bit of light reading!" "This is light?" Ron grunted as he handed her the book. "Only if you have any muscle, Ronald." "Oi! I resent that statement!" "It's all about ancient magical visionaries! These witches and wizards invented potions, spells, even the broomstick!" Hermione continued, absorbed by the book in her arms. "Great. Really, really great, Hermione," Draco drawled, "but why is this so facinat-" "Here it is! Nicolas Flamel, most recent creator of the Philosopher's Stone, was a famous alchemist. He and his wife are still alive today!" "So? Dumbledore is still alive. I mean, he has to be going on I dunno, four-hundred and ninety?" Ron said, smirking. The others snorted. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nicolas Flamel is over six-hundred years old, Ronald." "That is impressive," he muttered. Adrian let out a low whistle. "It says here that he is still a close friend of Albus Dumbledore!" Hermione said excitedly. "So now we know for sure what we're dealing with!" "Good. Now that we've reiterated common knowledge, can we please try to figure out why the old coot is keeping something so powerful in a school?" Draco yawned. Hermione scowled at him. "Honestly, don't you read? It says in Hogwarts: A History that Hogwarts is the most heavily protected sentient building in the UK." "Sentient building? What do you mean, sentient?" Henry asked, leaning forward. "Like, the school is alive or something?" "Exactly! Hogwarts is able to repel those who intend it harm," Hermione said,
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smiling brightly at him. "It has heavy enchantments cast over hundreds of years keeping it safe." "What if the enchantments fail?" Neville asked worriedly. "Then the professors would defend what the school cannot," she said simply. "OF COURSE!" Adrian yelled, leaping out of his seat with a wild grin. "Alright, that really has to stop," Ron scowled, rubbing his ear again. "I shouldn't be going deaf at eleven!" "The professors! They're helping to protect the stone!" Adrian said. "It all makes sense! If the school somehow fails to keep out an intruder, the professors will have set up defenses of their own!" "So, the dog is a failsafe?" Hermione asked eagerly. The others stared at her, confused. "It's a back-up plan?" she sighed. "Exactly," Adrian nodded, smiling. "So, who would Dumbledore trust to save his oldest friends' lives?" Draco mused. The eight friends looked at one another, smirking. "Hagrid!" On the floor, the dog snorted, almost as though he were laughing.

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Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland, 7 January, 1991 "Ah, Mister and Mister Malfoy!" Dumbledore boomed merrily. "Do come in." The brothers sat in front of the large mahogany desk and watched their aging headmaster warily. "You wanted to see us, sir?" Adrian asked, polite and more than a little impatient. "Yes, I did. I understand you have broken one of the most basic rules of the school. Though I am quite fond of the creatures myself, dogs are not permitted at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said gravely. "I understand that, but-" "Only cats, owls, and toads are allowed to be owned by students," the professor continued. "Yes, but Loki is his familiar," Draco said loudly. Dumbledore cocked his head to the side, studying the boys before him. Neither brother was lying, and both looked much too burdened for their eleven years. "It is most unusual that a first year bonds with an animal enough that it becomes a familiar," he speculated. Adrian squirmed. He hated when people looked at him like that, like he was some kind of experimental transfiguration attempt gone wrong. It always gave him a headache. "I'm not sure if Loki is really my familiar, but he follows me everywhere I go, Professor." "It is not uncommon for a dog to follow its master," the headmaster pointed out. "No, you don't understand, sir. I've tried leaving him alone, but he always comes after me. I locked him in the attic once, he was driving me so crazy, even used coloportus on it, and he was out not two minutes later. The door to the attic was broken in half and burned, Professor!" Adrian explained. "He howls like a banshee
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whenever I'm not with him." "This is odd behavior indeed, Mister Malfoy, but I'm afraid-" "He stops my episodes. I've had a few over the holidays, and whenever Loki touched me, I was fine," Adrian said quietly. "I always woke up fine, not crying or bleeding." "That," Dumbledore whispered under his breath, "is most fascinating. Where is the dog?" Draco reached between his and Adrian's chairs and pulled an invisibility cloak off of a huge black dog with sparkling blue-gray eyes. The dog woofed cheerfully at him and almost seemed to smirk. "I think I should examine him," Dumbledore said, rolling up the sleeves of his robes and readying his wand. "No!" Draco shouted at the same moment Loki yelped and ducked behind his master's chair. Dumbledore frowned slightly at the elder Malfoy twin. "Is there something wrong, Mister Malfoy?" Draco flushed and his gaze darted to his shoes. "No, it's just that I'm sure my parents wouldn't have taken in an animal that they hadn't examined already. Besides, Loki is the most easy-going dog I've ever seen. My baby sister pulls his ears, steps on his tail, bites him, even rides around on his back, and he's never even growled at her, Professor." "I wouldn't hurt the dog, Draco," Dumbledore said softly. "I know that, but" Draco looked pleadingly at his brother. "why put him through another batch of tests? It'd be a waste of time," Adrian finished. Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose you are right. Forgive an old man his suspicions. Too many years in too short a time, I'm afraid." The boys looked thoroughly confused. "What do you mean, Professor?" Adrian
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asked. Dumbledore smiled sadly at them. "You might understand when you are older, Mister Malfoy, though I hope you do not." "Was that all, Professor?" Draco asked. "Yes, unless you would care for a cup of peppermint tea?" Adrian nodded eagerly. "Yes, peppermint is my favorite, though everyone else in my family hates it." Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, most people do not care for it. It is one of my favorites as well." He handed Adrian a cup, and Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust, inching his chair away from his brother as though to avoid the smell. "This is quite good, Professor," Adrian said, gulping his tea. "Thank you. I make it myself," Dumbledore smiled. Adrian finished his tea quickly. "Thank you for the tea, Professor." "Any time, dear boy." "Professor, where could we find Hagrid?" Draco asked. "He lives in a hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest," Dumbledore replied. "Why?" "Oh, we, ah, we wanted to see if he knew any, ah, tricks to teach Loki," Adrian said quickly. Draco nodded in agreement, grinning ridiculously. Both boys- and one dog- scrambled out of the room. Dumbledore continued to sip his tea. There was something decidedly odd about the Malfoy brothers. They rarely- if ever- fought, they were popular, even among the older students, and they didn't seem to lie. Ever. If anything, they were brutally honest, even if it meant that they could get into trouble. They had a tight circle of friends, the professors adored them, and they promoted inter-House unity. All seemingly without effort.
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The only odd thing about their group was Neville Longbottom. He was a kind boy, of course, but he did not appear to have any extraordinary thing about him; ordinary power levels, average grades, average appearance. What did they see that he did not? And what were they doing, that they needed to see Hagrid? Hagrid's Hut, Hogwarts "Hullo there! Wot are you lot doin' on me stoop?" Hagrid asked, blinking blearily at them. It was plain to see he was drunk. Ushered forward by the other Firebrands, Draco stepped forward, shivering slightly. "Hello, Mister Hagrid," he said politely, hiding a sneer at the sight of the hut. It looked like a brown, homey tumor against the white landscape. "Wot d'you want, Malfoy?" Hagrid asked, voice becoming hard. "We wanted to know if you could teach some tricks to our dog," Adrian said, stepping forward and smiling pleasantly. "Hello, Hagrid!" Henry called cheerfully, waving at him. "'lo 'enry! I 'aven't seen yeh since autum!" Hagrid boomed, smiling at the raven-haired boy. "'ow 'ave yeh been?" "These are my friends, Hagrid. Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, and Adrian and Draco Malfoy," Henry said, smiling. "Alrigh' then. Come on," Hagrid groused, heading back into the hut. Loki trotted after him, tail wagging. The eight first-years trailed behind, looking about curiously. The hut was cozy, for Hagrid, anyway. To them, everything was twice as big as normal. They all fit through the doorway at the same time with room to spare.
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"This place was built for giants," Ron whispered, awed at the huge house. The other nodded in silent agreement. "So, why d'you lot think I can train a dog?" Hagrid asked. "I dunno. We just thought that someone who keeps the creatures in the Forbidden Forest at bay could train a dog. But, if you can't, we can always go," Ron shrugged. "I can train a bloody dog! Trained a Cerberus meself over the summer," he chuckled fondly. "Fluffy weren't no reg'ler dog, either." "Fluffy?" Neville squeaked. "You named a Cerberus Fluffy?" "What else was I gonna call 'im?" Hagrid asked seriously. "How about Fang?" Neville asked. "Can't do tha'. Already got a dog called Fang," Hagrid laughed. Sure enough, a gray dog even bigger than Loki bounded into the room at the sound of his name, wagging his tail eagerly. Loki trotted up to the other dog at barked cheerfully. Fang barked back, and the two dogs trotted out the back door. "Well, I guess Loki doesn't want to learn any tricks," Adrian laughed, seemingly at ease. "I guess not," Hagrid mumbled. "Is Fluffy on the the third floor, by any chance?" Henry asked. "Shore is," Hagrid said, swelling with pride. "Dumbledore said I'd trained 'im so good tha' he could be used for protecshun." "Protection for what? The Philosopher's Stone?" Henry asked. "You lot aren't supposed to know 'bout tha'," Hagrid said suspiciously. "We do, though," Daphne chimed in, smirking slightly. "Do you really think a dog is enough to protect something as valuable and powerful as the Philosopher's Stone?" Draco scoffed.
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"'course not. The professors did all sorts of enchantments an' spells," Hagrid snorted. "Which professors, Hagrid?" Hermione asked. "McGonagall, Flitwick, Quirrel, an' Snape," Hagrid replied. "Why?" They were already out the door. "Uncle does know where it is," Adrian said as they ran. "Why didn't he tell us?" "I dunno, same reason you've never explained why you leave classes for hours at a time?" Ron said glibly. "Because it's none of our business?" Daphne said, slapping Ron soundly across the back of his head. "Oi! That was uncalled for!" he yelped, rubbing his scalp furiously. "I was only answering your question, Ron. No need to cry about it," she teased, skipping ahead of him. "I wasn't crying!" he yelled, racing after her. Draco rolled his eyes as Ron tackled the tiny brunette into the snow. Adrian and Hermione were stony faced. "I'm sorry, Ade, I shouldn't've said that, but we've all been wondering," Ron said softly when the others caught up to him and Daphne. "It's really none of your business, is it?" Adrian whispered harshly. "No, I guess it isn't," Ron replied, flushing scarlet and hurrying ahead. Adrian scowled at his friend's retreating back. Why did Ron have to care so bloody much? It's not like concerned him, so why pry? Why couldn't they just pretend he was normal, like they did Henry? What made him so bloody special? Why was he such a freak? Why did they make him feel this way, so full of self-pity and anger and... fear? He loathed himself when he felt like a bloody martyr, which only made it worse.
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Draco saw his brother's shoulders stiffen and begin quaking violently. "Oh, shit," he muttered, surprising Neville who was walking beside him. The wind swirled around Adrian, the powdery snow obscuring him from their view. "Ade? Ade, calm down!" Draco yelled, shoving through his friends and stumbling toward his brother. Ron turned back, running toward his friends. He looked to be shouting something, but the roaring storm carried his voice away. He watched with fascination and horror as the wind picked up, a shrieking gale amidst the calm breeze that blew on his own face. The evergreens seemed drawn to the storm, creaking and groaning as they inched toward the swirling, howling blizzard. The furious storm pulsated with a strange white light so bright it burned his eyes to look at it. "Draco, what's happening to him?" Hermione cried. He looked back to tell her to go get help when he saw something he did not expect; Henry was lying motionless in the snow, shrouded completely by dark, sinister looking shadows. He looked as though he were screaming, and his hazel eyes had turned to pure white glowing orbs. Draco was horrified. "Loki!" he screamed desperately. The black dog bounded out of the forest, looking wary and alert. "Help Adrian!" he shouted at his brother's familiar. "Help him now!" The dog ran toward his master as Draco turned back to his friends. "Help me levitate him!" They lifted him off of the ground and hurried to where Adrian was still consumed by the storm. "What's happening, Drake?" Ron panted as he came upon them. "What's going on?" "He's having an attack," Draco panted. "Of what, exactly?" Hermione yelled over the wind.
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"Vox Tempestas Disorder," Draco yelled. "What is that?" "No time, Hermione!" he yelled. "Get down!" There was a thrumming bass noise that slowly escalated into a deafening roar. At the crescendo, there was a great squealing crack!, followed by a noise like a Muggle bomb going off. The air went calm and silent. "Adrian!" Draco yelled. Adrian was lying spread-eagle in the snow, Loki lying next to him. He sat up groggily, glasses missing, and squinted at his brother. "What happened?" "That is what I would like to know, Mister Malfoy." The six conscious children looked up. and into the eyes of Headmaster Dumbledore. ! I am so evil! What is going on? Why am I doing this? Where am I going with it all? I haven't a bloody clue Heh, just kidding.

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Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four Hospital Wing, Hogwarts, Scotland, 10 January, 1991 He opened his eyes and groaned, immediately wishing he'd kept them shut. Though it was only his first year, he could easily recognize the starkly white ceiling, walls, and bed sheets. He was in the Hospital Wing. Again. "Oh, bloody hell," a familiar voice moaned from somewhere near him. He turned his head sharply and saw a morose- looking Adrian lying in the bed beside him, sandy hair matted and unkempt. "What the hell happened to you?" Henry asked. "I could ask you the same thing, mate," Adrian grunted, sitting up carefully in his bed. "The last thing I remember was Loki looking at me. You?" "Hmmm, I remember tripping in the snow, and- OW!" Henry yelled, clutching his chest, which had hit him with a lightning bolt of burning pain. "What's wrong? You sick?" Adrian asked worriedly, wincing as he sat up straighter in his bed. "No," Henry said shakily, easing back onto the bed. "I'm fine." He felt anything but fine: he was freezing and sweating and his vision was going blurry. "Mister Malfoy, get back into that bed or I'll- oh, Mister Potter. Here, open your mouth. I have your potion here," Madam Pomfrey said, bustling over to his bed. He held his mouth open obligingly, and the foul-tasting concoction was poured in. He somehow managed not to gag. "My chest hurts," he grated, the potion having stripped his throat raw. "Yes, you were bleeding quite profusely from that tattoo you have," she said
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shortly. "Why on earth you have one I don't know-" "It isn't a tattoo, Madam Pomfrey," he said quietly. She had the good grace to flush and hurried off to tend her other patients. "Tattoo my arse," Adrian snorted. "Who lets an eleven-year old get a tattoo?" Henry chuckled and coughed. "Apparently, 'two of the biggest heroes of the Great War' would." Adrian became solemn. "That must be nice." Henry flushed, remembering all the stories his father had told him of Lucius Malfoy's activities during the war; dark wizard, murderer, the right hand of Voldemort. True, Draco and Adrian were bright, cheerful, and happy, but that didn't mean that his father was wrong about theirs. Henry shrugged. "I wouldn't have anything to compare it to, so it's just life for us, I guess." Adrian nodded, seeming to be thinking hard. "What- what was the potion for, if you don't mind my asking."

"A disorder I have, some magical defect in me. Mum calls it Vox Adficio Syndrome ," Henry said, relaxing as the potion began to warm him. "It's a thing where I have these Adrian stared at him. "I have something like that, but mine is Vox Tempestas Disorder, like a power storm. I have too much magic in me, and it just sort of... explodes out of me when I get really angry or confused," Adrian said slowly, licking his lips. "I can't control it, can't feel it building up in me. I only really know when it's just about to happen." "That's where you and Draco are always going," Henry said, the truth finally dawning on him. "You go see your uncle to get help." Adrian nodded. "Sometimes, just talking to Uncle makes it a bit better. Other times, though, I go hours practicing spell after spell with him- hours, mate- and I'm still not tired. I don't sleep at night, because Merlin knows what would happen if I had a bloody nightmare. I don't even try to sleep until early morning. I almost killed my baby sister over holiday because of this stupid thing."
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Henry stared. Maybe it was his easygoing, devil- may- care attitude, but he'd never suspected that Adrian had this sort of depth, this kind of hurt. He could nearly feel the ache in his own chest as his friend bared his soul. "Uncle says that I may outgrow it that as my body physically becomes more capable of handling the storms, or of even stopping them altogether," Adrian said hollowly. "But the worst thing is that I'm aware of what is going on. I know that I shatter all the glass in my home or light the dungeons on fire, and I can't do a damned thing to stop myself. I've tried so hard to stop myself, but it's like I'm in an animal's head, something savage." To Henry's horror, his proud, headstrong best friend's eyes filled with tears. "I'm nothing but an animal."

Disillusioned behind the drawn curtain, Remus Lupin slid to the floor. He was an animal. He knew the guilt and shame and secrecy and pain and lies like he knew the lunar calendar. He could hear them streaming out of this, this boy's mouth, the words stumbling over one another in their hurry to escape. He could help this boy, he had to help him. To do that, though, he must face the boy he abandoned, his former godson. As far as he knew, Lily and James had not named another godfather for Henry, after all these years "Remus, why are you on the floor?" He looked up and smiled into the frowning face of Sirius Black. "It's about damned time," he chuckled, allowing Sirius to pull him to his feet. "Tired of chasing your own tail, Mutt?" Sirius scowled at him. "No, tired of being a coward is all." With that, he strode over to where the two boys lay. "Hello, Adrian, Henry. Neither of you know me, but" Please don't murder me! I know that it was a really long wait and I must once again apologize. I am a most unreliable person, aren't I? There is a long story about the delay, but it comes down to exams, illness,
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school play, family issues, and a busted computer (for those of you unfamiliar with that term, busted means broken). I am so very sorry about this ridiculous delay, and I swear to make it up to you with another chapter this week. -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five Hospital Wing, Hogwarts, Scotland, 10 January, 1991 "my name is Sirius Black," the man said, "and I know both of you." He silently threw up a silencing charm so that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't intrude. "Who are you, a reporter?" Henry asked sharply, his voice going arrogant and cold. "No," the man said slowly, as though he were speaking to a very small, very stupid child. "I am an old acquaintance of both your families." "Yeah, well so is every other witch and wizard I've come across," Henry said dismissively. "And I'm smart enough to know no to talk to strangers who silence their conversations with hospitalized children. After all, you could be a dark wizard." "Or witch," Adrian threw in helpfully, trying to ignore the fact that a few seconds before this strange Sirius had appeared, he'd been sobbing. Seeing Henry's annoyed glare, he said, "These are strange times, Henry! You just never know, you know." Sirius, Adrian noticed, had a strange expression on his face, somewhere between amusement, nostalgia, and immense pain. "Honestly, Adrian! He's obviously not a witch!" Henry said loudly. Adrian shrugged and smiled, though he immediately ran through every possible disguise or enchantment he could think of. He kept coming back to the Polyjuice Potion his brother had finished over holidays. Draco had been very excited when he finished it, but it vanished shortly after it was completed. His brother had been in some kind of shock afterwards, and had stayed up in his room until they returned to school. Which was odd behavior, even for a Malfoy. Adrian shook his head and examined this Sirius more closely. He was tall: very tall, as a matter of fact, probably standing close to six and a half feet, and lean
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muscle covered his lanky frame. He wore dark Muggle jeans, a white undershirt, and a black dragonhide jacket and boots, where he probably had his wand hidden and ready. His long dark hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, though a few strands hung around his sharply-angled face and in his blue-gray eyes. His very familiar eyes "Are you related to my mum?" Adrian asked suddenly. Sirius looked a bit startled. "Ye-yes, we're cousins. Why?" "You you look like her, a little," Adrian said, eyes darting to his blankets. He held out his hand suddenly, and Sirius shook it firmly. Henry followed suit, and the friends began to warm up to the strange Sirius. "Yes, we were close when we were children," Sirius said. "She and Andromeda were my favorite cousins. How are they" Adrian shrugged. "Well, Mum? She's great, but, I don't really know much about Andromeda. Even though she's my godmother, I've never met her." "Andy's your godmother, not Bellatrix?" Sirius asked, relief and surprise on his face. "Are you mad?" Adrian snorted. Even Henry, who had heard numerous stories of Adrian and Draco's crazy aunt, had to shake his head. "You think my parents are idiots? She'd kill me rather than risk actually caring for something alive! She drowned her own daughter right after she was born, because- and I quote Mum's quote- "the little demon had made her weak". "I didn't know that," Sirius said quietly. "I knew she was in Azkaban, but I didn't know that." He looked slightly ill. "Yeah, she's insane, alright," Adrian nodded. He didn't much like talking about the Lestrange's. Just the name made his blood boil, though he had no idea why. Other than the fact that she was truly evil in nearly every way. "So, Sirius, what are you doing in the hospital wing at Hogwarts?" Henry asked pleasantly. "You're obviously not an injured student." Sirius laughed a deep booming bark that made him sound very much like an
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amused large dog. "Oh no, I'm not. I am going to be assisting Professors Lupin, Quirrell, and McGonagall for the rest of term." "Why? They seem able to handle it," Henry said. "Yes, they are very capable," Sirius said quickly. "I'm here to lend a hand is all." "Ah," Adrian mused. "You're their lackey, eh?" "I'm no one's lackey!" Sirius said indignantly, and Adrian and Henry merely quirked their brows in response. "I'm not!" "You certainly sound like a lackey," Henry observed. "The more you deny it, the more we know it to be true, Sirius," Adrian added, nodding at his friend in agreement. Sirius stared at them, slightly bewildered. They were so like James, and they had no idea. Well, obviously Henry did, but Adrian was just the same; smart-mouthed, laid back, and able to carry on and joke with his wand hidden and ready to hex someone at a moment's notice. While he was thinking, his silence did not go unnoticed. "Aw, Ade, I think we've taken the mickey out of him!" Henry said gleefully. Adrian smirked. "Poor, poor Sirius." "You two have not taken the mickey out of me!" Sirius said indignantly. "Come now, Sirius, let's not be bitter," Adrian drawled, still smirking. "Just because two eleven-year olds-" "I changed both of your diapers!" Sirius cried, smiling in triumph. Adrian turned red and Henry squawked. "Oh, yes, boys," Sirius gloated. "I have done the unthinkable and embarrassed you!"
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"You did not!" Henry argued. "And you didn't change my diapers! You aren't related to me!" "No, but I was your dad's best mate all through Hogwarts and the war," Sirius replied. He seemed to be enjoying himself now, and even stuck his tongue out at Henry impudently. Adrian chuckled, but Henry looked genuinely confused. "Dad's never mentioned you." "He wouldn't," Sirius said, shaking his head sadly. "We had a, ah, falling out about ten years ago, and I haven't spoken to him or your mum since." "What was it about?" Henry asked curiously. "Your parents did something that I strongly disagreed with," Sirius replied. "Something that I still disagree with, and it hurt me deeply, then and now." "Well, I'm sure you could work it out," Adrian offered helpfully. "He seems really nice to me, and he's probably sorry." Sirius smiled weakly at the boy. "There are some things, Adrian," he said delicately, resisting the urge to call the boy Harry, "that cannot be undone or forgiven, and there are words that can never be taken back." Adrian nodded thoughtfully, brow furrowed. "He gets that face when he's thinking too much in class," Henry whispered loudly to Sirius. Adrian mock-scowled and threw a pillow at his friend, smiling slightly. Sirius stood up to leave, having heard several voices coming in this direction, even through the silencing charm. "So, we'll be seeing you around, right?" Henry asked. Adrian remained silent, but the question shone in his eyes. Sirius beamed at them. "Absolutely." With that, he lifted the silencing charm and pulled the curtains open.
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coming face-to-face with none other Lily and James Potter and Severus Snape. 'Damn and it was such a good day, too.'

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Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six Hospital Wing, Hogwarts, 10 January, 1991 "S-Sirius?" James spluttered, mouth agape. Sirius nodded stiffly, closing the curtains behind him and casting Muffliato over what was likely to be a nasty confrontation. "Sirius, what are you doing here?" Lily asked. "I would imagine that Black is here in preparation for his new position at the school," Severus sneered. "We all know that he isn't visiting his godson." The three others turned to face him, James and Sirius looking furious and Lily with an expression that indicated he'd just slapped her across the face. "Do not go there," Sirius snarled, sounding more animal than human. "Sirius, let's go," Remus said, grabbing Sirius' arm as his friend advanced slightly toward his adolescent nemesis. Sirius snarled and turned to leave, shaking Remus off of him. "That's right, Black," Severus taunted, "walk away like you always do. It's all you're good for." Sirius turned and howled with rage, arm already swinging toward Snape's smirking face. His fist hit Severus' nose with a sickening crack and the Potions Master stumbled back, his head connecting with the stone wall behind him. Before Sirius could even blink, he was being hauled out of the wing, kicking and roaring, by Remus and James. "What in the hell was that?" Remus hissed. "What's wrong with you?" "What's wrong with me?" Sirius bellowed. "What's wrong with me is that that stupid, snide arrogant, slimy git pissed me off and I need a drink and I couldn't even
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talk to him for more than five minutes before I had to leave, and they're just like you !" at this point he was yelling at James, who looked utterly bewildered by the entire episo "Remus, can you please tell me what is going on?" he pleaded, raking his old friend's strange expression. Remus looked almost amused. "Sirius is a bit upset," Remus said delicately, leading the larger man away from the wing. "Probably a bit exhausted from his trip." Sirius laughed high and loud, sounding more than a bit mad. "Oh yes, I just got back from the States, didn't I, Moony? I'd forgotten." James' expression was priceless, in Lupin's humble opinion, ranging somewhere between horribly confused, curious, and just not wanting to know. Once they had turned the corner, Remus stopped. "Sirius, can you find your rooms? I need to speak to someone." Sirius smiled knowingly and patted his friend on the shoulder. "Of course, mate, I'll be fine." Remus nodded and turned. He'd started to walk away when Sirius grabbed his arm. "He's a good kid, Moony. Don't let how he acts affect your view. He's just like Lily, really." Remus nodded again, smiling tightly, and hurried off. Hospital Wing "How are you feeling?" Lily asked, looking Henry over carefully. "I'm fine, Mum, so don't fuss," Henry said, glad that Adrian had snuck out to see his own family. She sighed. "Oh, alright. If you say that you're fine, I'll believe you until Madam Pomfrey says otherwise." He scowled lightly at her. "So, what happened between Dad and Sirius? He seems
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alright to me," he said, turning solemn. She sighed again. "Henry, that's-" "Mum, I swear to Merlin, if you don't or won't tell me, Sirius will," Henry warned. "Henry, I can't. I really, really can't," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "You would hate me." "It's about Harry, isn't it?" he asked quietly. At her startled look, he pulled the modified rememberall -which he'd taken to wearing around his neck on a chainfrom beneath his robes, smiling wryly. "I figured it out, you know. I'm not a complete idiot." She sighed. "I know that, Henry. I was just hoping that you wouldn't remember so quickly," she said, brushing his hair back off of his forehead. "Although, I guess part of me gave the prototype to you so that you would remember." "What happened? To Harry, I mean," Henry asked, his amber eyes meeting her green ones. "Did did he die that Halowe- that night, I mean?" "Oh, no, sweetheart! No," she said quickly. "Harry was almost completely unharmed after that night." "So, what happened, then?" Henry asked, brow furrowed. Lily swallowed thickly. "Well, you were declared to be the prophesized defeater of Voldemort," she said slowly, trying to remember exactly what she'd been trying to block out for so many years, "and suddenly, Harry was no longer simply Harry, he was your brother." She stopped again, wringing her hands. "And you were no longer Henry, you were the famous boy-who-lived. And so, Harry disappeared in the eyes of the world. Overnight, you became a hero, and Harry, well, in the eyes of the world; there was no Harry James Potter, only one Potter boy. You." "Mum, what happened?" Henry said, no longer looking at her but rather at his hands, which were clenching his blankets. "We- your father and I- decided that growing up in his brother's shadow would be no way to grow up at all. It would be unfair, and he may have grown to resent you for it," she explained. "And so we- we decided to give him up for adoption." Henry opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish without water.
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"And so about a week after that night, I took Harry to a Muggle orphanage in London," she said shakily. "I left him there with a note, and that was the last time I ever saw your brother," she said, trying hard to keep her voice steady even as her tears dropped onto Henry's clenched fists. Henry didn't look at her, he simply stared at his hands. "Henry," she said. He didn't respond. "Henry, please." He made a small, almost imperceptible jerk of his head, but didn't respond. "Henry, look at me!" she pleaded. "Henry Evan Potter, look at me!" "It's their fault, isn't it?" he said, his voice a deadly whisper. "The reporters? If they'd just left us well enough alone, he'd still be here, wouldn't he? If they could just mind their own bloody business, could go write about something other than me" His eyes hardened and he wore an expression that no eleven-year old should ever wear, like he'd just crumbled. "If they didn't have to write about me Mum, it's my fault," he cried. "It's my fault!" "No!" she said sharply, lifting his chin so that he was forced to look her in the eye. "Henry, you can blame the reporters or Fate, or even your father and I, but don't you ever blame yourself! The person truly responsible for this entirely awful situation is Voldemort, and don't you ever forget that." He nodded weakly and looked away from her fierce gaze. "Lily?" She looked behind her to see Remus Lupin standing awkwardly at the gap in the curtain. "Would- can I talk to him?" he asked hesitantly. At her dubious expression, he added, "Please, Lily." She sighed and nodded, her arm brushing his as she exited the small, tense space. Henry looked at his professor, wondering what he was doing here. "Henry, I don't know if you knew this, but Sirius and I were great friends with
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your parents when we were at school," Remus began softly. "I was friends with your dad, and eventually, Lily became my study partner, and we became friends as well." He smiled fondly. "Your dad drove Lily mad from the first moment they met, because, I'll admit, he was an arrogant prat." Henry tilted his head to the side, wondering why Professor Lupin suddenly found any of this at all relevant. "When we entered our seventh year, though, they started dating. James' head had done a bit of deflating, and so they started dating. They got married right after graduation," he continued, taking Henry's apparent lack of interest in stride. "A year or so later, they had twins: Harry James and Henry Evan Potter. Sirius Black was named Harry's godfather, and I was named yours. Soon, though, it was revealed to Lily and James- and through them, Sirius and I- that one of their boys could be the source of Voldemort's demise. A prophesy declared this to be so, and thus your family went into hiding, their house put under the Fidelius Charm, and their secret-keeper was Peter Pettigrew, one of our other best and closest friends. "After Peter betrayed your family to Voldemort, he was sent to Azkaban, and it seemed that all was well. The next time Sirius and I came to visit, however, you were there," he said even more softly, "but Harry was not. "Upon learning what had become of your brother, Sirius ran to the orphanage where Lily had left his godson, but there was no record of his ever being there. Sirius severed all ties with you and your parents so that he could go looking for his beloved godson," Remus continued, "and I followed, renouncing my title as your godfather. Until this afternoon, I hadn't seen either Lily or James in over a decade." "But, why?" Henry asked, sounding very, very young. "Why what, Henry?" Lupin asked, puzzled. He thought he'd been fairly straightforward in his telling. "Why did you leave me?" Henry asked, his voice small. "W- well, I was angry and your brother Lily and James had no-" "No," said Henry sharply, shaking his head. "I know why you left, but why did you leave me?" Remus stared at the boy before him, openmouthed.
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"I- I needed someone else, sometimes, besides my parents and tutors," Henry continued, avoiding his professor's gaze. "I didn't go to school, you know, and I didn't really know anyone. And I get why you left, I do, but why couldn't you still be my godfather, even if you were away all the time? You could've sent me letters, even if they only came once in a while or on my birthday. I could've visited you when you were in country, and you could've helped me to like flying so that I didn't embarrass myself all the time." "Henry, I- I am so very sorry for that," Remus said. "I didn't think it would work, what with me not speaking to your mum and dad." "But, you could've made it work, right?" Henry asked hopefully. "We could still make it work, right?" Remus nodded firmly. "Now that you're older, I'm sure that we could, Henry. That is, if you don't mind having a stuffy old Transfiguration professor as a godfather." "Not at all," Henry said, holding out his hand expectantly. Remus shook his hand, a smile spreading slowly across his face. He was still slightly bewildered and elated by the strange and happy turn of events. Though, from the looks of things, this was just an ordinary day in the already extraordinary life of one Henry Evan Potter.

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Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven Transfiguration Classroom, Hogwarts, Scotland, January 15, 1991 It had been almost a week since Henry and Adrian had been released from the hospital, and many things at the school had changed. Henry and his godfather- whom he jokingly deemed Uncle Remy- were becoming extremely close, and could often be found on the Quidditch pitch or practicing various spells. Also, it seemed that the Weasley twins had not forgotten about their prank war, as the Firebrands had, over the winter holidays. Rather, they had struck with far more vigor than they'd demonstrated before. However, once Henry and Adrian were released, the war had roared back into the minds of the entire school, becoming more and more creative by the day. As a matter of fact, Henry was discussing a new idea with Neville that involved a squeaky dog toy, a venture to the kitchen, and borrowing Loki for a bit when Professor Lupin sat on the edge of the desk. "May I ask what is so interesting, Mister Potter?" he asked pleasantly. Henry gulped and turned to face his teacher. When he looked at Lupin's face, however, he struggled to bite back a laugh. It seemed that the professor had been the unfortunate victim of one of the Firebrands' latest and admittedly foulest jokes; his skin was scaly and ranged in color from green to purple to orange -a combination of one of their new PermaDye Balloons and a modified potion that Draco and Hermione had half-invented, halfaccidentally-found. "I-I was just talking about the Firebrands, sir," Henry answered. "Ah," Lupin said, smiling slightly. "Yes, they are interesting, I suppose, mysterious and extremely creative. Though, I must admit, I do not see the relevance as it applies to this lesson, Mister Potter."
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"Sorry, sir," Henry mumbled. "Two points from Hufflepuff, and I forgive you," he said. "Now, as for turning a shoe into a soup bowl" Neville sighed, running a hand through his hair. He noticed that it was growing rather long and smiled softly. Many of his friends were growing their hair longer than the other students were; Adrian's was already long enough to tie back, and his own was constantly falling into his eyes, which he didn't mind overmuch. His dad had longer hair, if the pictures he'd uncovered in the attic at home were any indicator. He looked more like his mum, though, as his dad had blue eyes and rather sharper features than Neville himself had. He was told by Sirius, the new assistant teacher, that he had inherited his father's unfortunate clumsiness and lack of skill with potions and had gotten his mum's smile and love of Herbology. Sirius was apparently a good friend to both his parents. Neville was glad to hear of their faults as well as the stories he'd grown up with; the way his grandmother had always carried on, it seemed as though his parents were the epitome of perfection, and Neville, with his unsteady hand and slight stutter, could never hope to compare. Hearing that he was far more like them than he'd thought was a relief he didn't know he'd been waiting for. A sharp elbow to the ribcage brought Neville swiftly- and painfully- back to reality, where Professor Lupin was assigning a foot-long essay on the day's topic, which he hadn't paid the least bit of attention to. 'Well,' he thought glumly as he shoved his unused ink bottle and parchment into his bag, 'maybe Blaise will help me.' Slytherin Common Room There was something decidedly odd about the four first-year boys who were currently sneaking out of the green and silver dungeon. And with their absent friend Greengrass as well, now that he thought about it. Theodore Nott came to this conclusion quite suddenly one evening as he sat reading in the common room. He'd noticed them, of course. Hell, everyone noticed them; they were friends with Muggleborns, half-bloods, and even a Gryffindor.
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What was most interesting to Theodore Nott, however, was the way they didn't give a damn. It was something he admired, really. He himself came from a long and twisted line of purebloods, and he personally didn't think that he'd turned out too badly. He got good marks in nearly all of his classes (History of Magic was simply hopeless for him), he was a decent Beater when he played pick-up Quidditch games, and he never, ever disobeyed when someone gave him instructions or orders. Though, perhaps this was part of the problem, really, as he was beginning to truly hate the elder Slytherins who reigned over the others like monarchs. Being a first-year, he was expected to adhere to their every whim and wait on them hand and foot. This was expected of all the first-years, but those five others couldn't care less about the "powerful connections" they had the opportunity to make while still at Hogwarts. Instead, they had done something that was most odd for a group of characteristically ambitious young Slytherins and decided that their time would be better spent having a bit of fun. He wished he could follow suit and tell Marcus Flint exactly where he could shove his connections, but alas, he was far less brave than they were. Admittedly, it was far easier to be brave when there was someone to back you up, which Theodore didn't have at Hogwarts. He had a friend, of course, a best friend, in fact. Her name was Emmy, and she was a funny and blond and freckly Muggle girl who lived in a village not far from his home. His parents and brother didn't know, of course, because they thought that Muggles were filthy animals with little to no intelligence, and wouldn't want their young son to be corrupted, not when he had such promise. He sighed, returning to his book. It was one of a fascinating set of Muggle books Emmy had given him for Christmas about little people called Hobbits, and there were Dwarves (which everyone knew to be mere legend), and wizards (which amused him, since Emmy didn't know of that aspect of his personality) and even
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dragons (which he was secretly obsessed with. He wouldn't mind being a dragon trainer or even a dragon catcher, but to do so would shame his family, which he didn't particularly want to do). He was, unfortunately, stupid enough to hope that if he kept his head down and his nose in a book he would be ignored, but alas, it was not to be so. Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson plopped into the seats on either side of him and sneered. "Look at this pathetic little bookworm, Millicent!" Pansy said in her gratingly nasal voice. "All he ever does is read! Maybe he should have been a Ravenclaw!" Theodore scowled darkly at her, though he privately agreed, wishing that he'd listened to the Hat when it'd practically begged to put him in Ravenclaw. Unfortunately, he had been adamant about his wishes to follow in his family's footsteps and become a Slytherin. But, that was months past, and it was much too late to undo his mistake now. Sighing again, he shoved his book roughly into his robe pocket and stomped out of the common room to avoid any more of the idiocy within. He opened the portrait and ran smack bang into someone just as it closed behind him. This wouldn't seem so odd to Theodore on a normal day, as his feet were rather large and easy to stumble upon, however, it did not seem normal now, as there was no one else in the corridor. "Hullo?" he called, feeling rather stupid. "Is anyone there?" He listened intently, and heard the soft swish of a cloak at the end of the hall. Feeling more curious than apologetic now, he dashed to where he'd heard the sound and stopped; there was the faint scrape of a sneaker on a stair. He ran toward the stairs as fast as he could, ignoring all of the stares he got as he ran full bore through the entrance hall and up the huge marble staircase. When he reached the seventh floor, he looked about madly and saw he shook his head and stared, bewildered, at a bend in the hall where he'd just seen a pair of worn sneakers run by without any legs attached to them!
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He chased after the floating sneakers and could easily hear panting and loud footsteps ahead of him now, and then he saw something very, very strange. There was a large wooden door materializing out of the solid stone wall, and before his eyes, the door opened and closed by itself before it began to rapidly turn back into stone. Theodore ran toward the vanishing door and reached for the handle, but it had already turned into a slightly protruding bit of rock and the rest of the door disappeared completely. "Damn!" he said, slapping his hand against the rough surface of the wall. Panting and clutching the stitch in his side, Nott sank to the floor as his body suddenly became aware of the fact that he'd just run up eight flights of stairs. Disappointed, he walked to the library, which had been his original destination, and too the book out of his pocket to read where no one would bother him. Still, he was more than a bit curious about the sudden disappearance of the door in the seventh floor corridor, and about the sneakers he thought he'd seen. He decided to investigate. Later.

Room of Requirement "That was way too close," Ron panted, bending to catch his breath. "What was?" Hermione asked from her seat on a nearby blue and bronze couch. "Nott almost caught us!" Blaise said. "He was right behind us all the way up the stairs! I had no idea he was so fast!" "I have no idea how he even knew where we were!" Adrian said, pulling the cloak off of himself and Loki, who looked to have quite enjoyed the run. "We were under the cloak he entire time!" "He probably heard us," Daphne said. "We don't all have charmed boots, Ade."
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"I have to agree with Daph on this one," Draco panted. "It certainly didn't help when we started running and bumping into people." "Or when Loki started panting." Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You'll just have to be more careful then. We don't need anyone confiscating the cloaks or finding out about the Room, because they'd start snooping around." "Yeah, the last thing we need is someone finding out that we know about the Stone," Henry added, glancing up from his potions essay. The five Slytherins nodded and joined their friends around the warm fire. "Alright, we'll be more careful. Did we get any further with our, ah, research?" Ron asked, flopping down next to Hermione. She slammed the book in frustration. "No! There are thousands of possibilities for the enchantments that the professors could have used!" Adrian shook his head. "Well, maybe we should just keep researching what we do know is guarding the Stone," he suggested. "You mean Fluffy?" Neville asked fearfully. "Yeah, Nev, I mean Fluffy," Adrian smiled apologetically. "There has to be some way to get past it. I'm sure of it! I mean, why would they design a way to keep something so valuable safe if you yourself could never get to it? I mean, doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose of having it in the first place?" "Well, the only thing I've come across was that a Cerberus can't be felled by any spell, as it is born with protections against that sort of thing," Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples tiredly. "What about a potion?" Draco asked suddenly. Hermione looked up, beaming at him. "That's it! Would Professor Snape have any of the Draught of Living Death left from when he brewed it with the sixth years?" Draco nodded, grinning broadly. "Yeah, he keeps them under a stasis spell so that they don't spoil."
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"We could drug the dog with a potion and then sneak past it?" Neville asked hopefully. "Absolutely, Neville, if we can find a way to get into the potion storeroom without Snape noticing," Hermione said. "But he's always prowling around the room. He'd notice straight off if some of us snuck off for ten minutes." Neville didn't seem at all phased by this, and smirked at her. "I can guarantee you fifteen minutes as long as Draco pairs with me in Potions for the rest of the year. I'll need it after this." "After what, Nev?" Adrian asked, intrigued. "I think I'll pair up with Seamus tomorrow," he said simply, and the rest of his friends quickly caught on and laughed.

Potions Classroom, Hogwarts, Scotland, 16 January, 1991 Neville gulped as Professor Snape stalked past his and Seamus' cauldron again. Glancing up, he saw Adrian and Draco slowly pull their cloak out of Draco's bag, Daphne sneeze into her and Theodore Nott's (whom they'd decided to keep a closer eye on) cauldron, and Ron "accidentally" tap his silver knife against his and Blaise's cauldron twice, the ringing noise echoing quietly through the silent dungeon. That was the signal. Quick as a flash, Neville dumped Stinksap, dragon dung, ashwinder eggs, and doxy venom into his nearly completed Sleeping Potion, ducked under the desk and covered his face and ears with his robes. The potion- and the cauldron with it- exploded magnificently, drenching Seamus, Dean, and every other nearby student but Neville in a noxious orange foam. When Seamus tried to wipe the mess off with his wand, the botched potion caught fire and sent off angry sparks which, in turn ignited several other potion- covered students, as well as much of the classroom. Screams of outrage, pain and terror rang through the dungeon, but they were nothing compared to the gagging and spluttering that the putrid stench of the burning, smelly, sparking potion induced.

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When Neville peered over the top of his desk, Draco and Adrian had vanished, Daphne was covering her mouth with her robes, Ron and Blaise were retching, and Professor Snape was storming toward his table, a truly petrifying expression on his face. "Would either of you care to explain?" he asked in a deadly whisper. Seamus began spluttering an explanation when Lavender Brown threw up on the front of Snape's black robes. If Neville didn't see it for himself, he wouldn't have believed it possible for Snape to look even more livid than he already had. "Out," he whispered harshly. "All of you, get out of this classroom right now. One hundred points from Gryffindor." The students hesitated a moment too long, and Snape exploded with fury. "OUT! NOW! GET OUT!" There was a mad rush for the door, and as he was swallowed up by the mob of eleven-year olds, Neville breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Adrian and Draco slinking to the back of the crowd, hiding their smug expressions with twin looks of revulsion. He hid a smile as he scrambled out the door and up the dungeon stairs. It'd worked. And he was dead meat. "What the hell Neville?" Seamus yelled once they'd exited the dungeons. "We were nearly finished, you spastic git, and now we've lost 100 points! We were in the lead for the House Cup, and now we'll be lucky to tie with Hufflepuff!" "I-I it was an a-accident!" Neville cried as his housemates rounded on him. "Oi, leave him alone!" Ron shouted, shouldering his way through the crowd, Blaise, Daphne, Draco and Adrian close behind him. "It's not his fault that all you stupid lions are rubbish at potions!" "Ron, not helping," Neville whispered as the Gryffindor's faces turned even angrier.
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"Right, right, sorry mate, just wanted to get that off my chest," Ron whispered back. "You're the idiot who set the ruddy potion on fire, Finnigan! And Brown's the one who puked all over Snape!" he shouted at them, pointing his finger accusingly at the offending Gryffindors. "Clear off!" Daphne ordered sternly, grabbing Ron's arm and pulling him and Neville out of their corner. The five Slytherins and Neville shoved their way through the scarlet and goldclad students and into the deserted Great Hall, hoping to get an early lunch. Once they were alone, they burst into hysterical laughter. "Oh, Merlin, did you see Uncle's face?" Adrian howled, leaning on Neville for support. "I wish I'd had Father's camera!" "And that potion! That was the worst thing I have ever or will ever smell," Blaise smiled, gagging as he sniffed his robes by accident. "Neville," Draco chuckled, clapping a hand on Neville's shoulder, "I now understand why you're a Gryffindor; that was the bravest, dumbest thing I've ever seen anyone do." "That wasn't brave," Neville panted. "That was a botched suicide attempt!" Loki barked, evidently in agreement. They laughed again.

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Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Eight Hufflepuff Common Room, Hogwarts, Scotland, 17, January, 1991 "Henry!" Henry looked up from his book and grinned at Cedric Diggory, his first friend at Hogwarts. "Hey Cedric." He'd thought he was alone in the common room. "How've you been?" Cedric asked, smiling. "I don't see you around much anymore. Got some new friends, now, eh?" Henry nodded, ruffling his shaggy black hair. "Yeah, I do. We have a lot of fun." "I can see that," Cedric said. He took a seat across from Henry. "What's that you're reading?" "Oh, it's a, ah, well a bit of a side project that I'm working on with the Fi- er, with my friends," Henry said, covering his slip-up quickly. He raised his book, which was entitled 'A History of Things: Oddities, Curiosities, and Rarities in the Wizarding World', so that Cedric could see it. "What kind of project?" Cedrics asked, picking up another of Henry's books, which was entitled 'Oddball Spells and Enchantments', and another called 'Wards Which Never Fail'. "I'm guessing that it has something to do with the Third-Floor Corridor?" Henry looked up, startled, and Cedric shook his head, smiling. "Honestly, Potter, we aren't all mindlessly trusting idiots here." "How did you figure it out?" Henry asked. "Hagrid is a very, ah, verbal drunk. My owl had a broken wing, and when I went to visit him, he was 'trashed', as my American cousin would say," he replied. "All I had to do was ask." "Clever," Henry muttered.
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"I like to think so. Despite what all the Gryffindors seem to think, I am more than just a pretty face, Potter," he said haughtily. Henry bit back a laugh. "I see." "Now, if you want to get past the Cereberus, all you have to do is play the thing a bit of music," Cedric advised. "It's after that that things get hard." "You've gotten past it already?" Henry spluttered. "Of course I haven't, but if that thing is disposable enough to be the first- and therefore weakest- line of defense, imagine what the professors have as back up," Cedric said. Henry gaped at him. "It's basic logic, Potter," Cedric reasoned, tapping his head knowingly. "Sometimes, you have to slow down in order to go faster, mate." "So, even after we get past that monster, you're telling me that things will just get harder and harder, the further we go?" Henry asked. Cedric nodded. "Oh, Neville's not going to like that at all," he thought aloud. Looking up suddenly, he said, "What time is it?" "It's nearly ten. Why?" "Oh, damn!" Henry cried, leaping out of his seat. "Somewhere to be, Henry?" Cedric asked, amused at his younger friend's antics. "Um, yeah, I have to, er, go up to help tutor Ron in History of Magic," Henry lied, gathering up his books hurriedly. "Up? Isn't Weasley in the Slytherin Common Room? In the dungeons?" Cedric asked, trying to hide his smile. "Oh yeah! Thanks, Cedric!" Henry called, dashing out of the Common Room. Cedric shook his head and stood, walking slowly toward the dormitories.
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"First years." Unknown Location, Hogwarts "Shhh!" "Hehehe, this is going to be excellent!" "Ade! Shuttup!" "Seriously, though, this is going to cinch it for us!" "Not if you get us caught, git!" "Okay, okay. I'll be quiet. Have you got that, Neville?" "Not quite Ade." "Hermione, Blaise, will you help him please?" "Sure, Mister Black." "Here you go, Neville. That should do it." "Oof, this damn thing is really heavy." "There!" "All set?" "Yeah, now let's get the hell out of here before we get caught." "Agreed." Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, 17 January, 1991 "Holy shit." "Oh, Merlin." "My God, they must be mad!"
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The entire student body was abuzz with excitement, and this made Remus Lupin nervous. Nothing good came from gleeful, snickering teenagers. He knew from experience. Shouldering his way through the growing crowd, he entered the Great Hall. There, he saw what the students were looking at. Floating high above were all of the tables, benches, and chairs in perfect formation, complete with the Headmaster's chair in the center of the staff table. Except for the fact that they were all upside down in the air, and the legendary enchanted ceiling was now the cloudy gray floor. The only thing that looked to be right side up was a huge black banner, with a flaming phoenix emblazoned across it, the word 'Firebrand' literally burning just below the apparent insignia. "What in Merlin's name" He took a step into the upside down room and was instantly disoriented, turning upside down and slowly floating toward the ceiling. Floor. Whatever. Luckily, one of the more astute seventh years saw what was happening and grabbed a fistful of his robes, dragging him back into the entrance with the help of Percy Weasley. Once he'd recovered from his second bout of vertigo in as many minutes, Remus nodded his thanks to both the boys and began setting up a barrier to keep the, ah, 'less observant' students out of harm's- or at least confusion's- way. Suddenly, there was a huge roaring noise and a spell whizzed past his head, entering the hall just as the barrier went up. Another huge banner appeared, hovering below the first.
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It was gaudy, magenta and gold that glittered and sparkled. In neat, albeit somewhat childish, block lettering, there was a simple message: "You Win." And thus I return from another long absence. Yes, they are getting rather ridiculous, but college is on its way, and I have to set my priorities. Thanks for sticking with me! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 50
Chapter Forty-Nine Seventh Floor, Hogwarts, Scotland, 26 March, 1991 In the past two months, things at Hogwarts had become increasingly strange; though the prank war had ended, there was something wrong with Professor Quirrel. Strange sounds could be heard coming from his classroom at all hours of the night, and he was becoming increasingly jumpy. Someone had also been badly injured by Fluffy, the girl's arm nearly ripped off of her body. Her name was Susan Bones, and Henry had said that she was still in St. Mungo's, trying to get her arm re-attached. Professors Snape and Lupin had also been acting oddly, especially whenever Loki was in their classes with Adrian. Professor Dumbledore also began leaving the school frequently, supposedly to oversee his Ministry positions. He was gone tonight, and they were sure that another opportunity wouldn't present itself for quite some time. Yes, tonight was the night. "Are you sure we have to do this?" Neville squeaked. "We can't tell a professor?" "No, Neville! We don't know who we can trust!" Hermione huffed. "Except Uncle Severus," Draco added. "And Uncle Remy," Henry said. "And Sirius!" the rest of the boys added. "Sirius wasn't ever a suspect, gits. He wasn't even here during the troll attack!" Daphne scoffed. "And we still aren't sure about Professor Lupin, Henry, much as you'd like us to be." "Well, I'm sure," Henry replied stubbornly. "He and Mr. Black are the best
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teachers here." Loki barked in agreement, his tail thumping against Blaise's leg. "Couldn't you leave him, Ade?" Blaise complained, shoving the dog's tail away from himself and scowling at the seemingly grinning animal.. "And have him howling all night? No thanks," Adrian snorted. "He'd wake up everyone in the school!" "He's right, you know," Hermione said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd rather not be caught breaking this many school rules." They all snorted at her. "Only you, Hermione, would be worried about breaking school rules at a time like this," Ron snickered. Hermione scowled and punched him hard in the arm. "Ow!" "Ron, shuttup!" "She hit me!" "You deserved it." Third-Floor Corridor, Hogwarts "Ready?" Adrian asked, hand on the doorknob. "Just- just do it," Neville said firmly. Adrian pushed the door open, and they were greeted by the snapping and snarling of Fluffy, the three-headed dog. "Drake, Hermione, now!"Henry yelled as Fluffy's mouth's opened wide. The two ran forward and hurled beakers full of the Draught of Living Death into the dog's mouths.
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Fluffy snarled and gagged as the potions went down its throats. After a few more seconds, however, the dog's six eyes rolled back into its three heads and it collapsed in a drooling snoring heap. "Yes!" Hermione yelled, slapping Draco's proffered hand and grinning triumphantly. Draco smiled back. "Alright, let's go," Ron said, shoving one of the dog's massive paws off of the trapdoor and yanking it open. "Well, at least that- that thing won't hurt anyone else," Neville shuddered. "That's the spirit, mate!" Ron said, clapping him on the back. Looking down into the lightless room, he cheerfully called, "Who's first?" Daphne ran past them and executed a perfect swan dive as she disappeared into the darkness, laughing at the scandalized looks on their faces as she went. "Bloody show off," Adrian muttered, following her in a similar fashion, the rest of their friends jumping less-gracefully after them. When Adrian landed, he rolled to his feet only to immediately lose his footing and slip, only managing to stay standing because he grabbed a rope that was hanging from the ceiling. At least, he thought it was a rope until it wrapped around his wrist and twisted down his arm. "What is this?" Hermione cried. "It's wrapped around my legs! I can't move!" Henry yelled. "Diffindo!" Draco yelled, and a flash of silver light blinded him. "It's some sort of... vine or something." "Just don't move," Blaise advised from somewhere to Adrian's right. "Augh! Gedoff!" he heard Ron yell, his friend's panicked voice echoing eerily off the walls. "Daph? Neville? Are you alight?" Adrian called, realizing that she and the
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Gryffindor were the only ones who hadn't said anything. "I'm fine, Ade," Neville said quickly. "I think I know what this plant is" "Daph? Where are you?" he called. When he didn't hear a reply, he grabbed his wand with his free hand a muttered, "Lumos." What he saw in the faint light horrified him. Daphne hadn't been as quick to recover as the others, and the black vines covered her body from her shoes to her nose. Her eyes were wide and pleading. "Devil's snare!" Neville cried. "What?" "This is devil's snare! It reacts to adrenaline in the bloodstream of its victims! Just stay calm, and whatever you do, don't move," he said. "Neville, I think it's a bit late for that to work on Daphne. What else can we do?" Draco asked. "We could cut the vines-" "We could cut her by accident! Think of something else!" Adrian yelled. "Fire!" Hermione yelled. "Devil's snare fears fire, or actually heat, but that's beside the poi-" "Hermione, this is not the time!" "Right, sorry! Fire, fire, oh and I don't have any matches," she said distractedly. "Matches? Are you a witch or aren't you?" Ron bellowed. Blushing, Hermione and Adrian quickly summoned bluebell flames, being the only ones who had freed their wand arms. The vine seemed to leap away from the flames, releasing its hold on Ron, Neville, and Henry. As the flames spread, the vine hissed and jerked away from them, dropping Draco, Adrian, Hermione and, finally, Daphne, who gasped in huge breath. "Thanks," she croaked, rubbing her already bruising neck.
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"Don't mention it," Hermione and Adrian panted. "Hey," Adrian said, looking around. "What happened to my dog?" They looked up to see Loki peering sadly at them from the entrance to the trapdoor. "He can't jump, Adrian, he'd break his legs," Hermione said. Sighing, Adrian nodded in agreement. "Loki, go back to the Room of Requirement. I'll see you in a few hours." Loki whimpered, scratching at the sides of the entrance. "Loki, go!" Adrian commanded. "I don't want you anywhere near Fluffy when he wakes up." Loki howled brokenheartedly before he disappeared from their sight. "Alright, let's go," Adrian said sharply, turning and walking toward a heavy wooden door at the other end of the room. "Lumos," the rest of the Firebrands whispered, and the small room brightened considerably. When they opened the door, it led into a long, narrowcorridor, though this corridor was not brightened from the wandlight at all; it smelled strongly of mold and the sickly-seetness of rot. Water dripped down the walls, and the slope downward had Neville bumping into the others every once in a while. "What's that noise?" Neville asked. "I don't hear anythi-" "Shh, Ron," Adrian said, waving a hand at his friend. "I hear it too." As they came closer to the door, there was a distinct fluttering noise on the other side. "Well," Hermione said nervously, "we've come this far, haven't we?" "Okay, wands out. On the count of three. One" The flapping sounded louder.
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"Two" They took a breath, each of their grips tightening on their wands. "Three!" They burst into the next room, wands at the ready. When they looked around, however, they realized that they wouldn't need them after all. "What in Merlin's name?" There were birds. Tiny, flapping, glimmering birds, thousands of them. Inside the room, the sound of their thousands of flapping wings was maddening, very loud and constant. "What are we supposed to do?" Henry yelled, covering his ears in hopes of blocking out the buzzing drone. "I dunno, it- Hey! There's a door over there!" Adrian yelled, running across the room. "It's locked!" "Well unlock it, you git!" Draco and Ron yelled at him. "Alohomora!" he cried, but the door remained stubbornly closed when he tried the handle. "It didn't work!" "Maybe you need the key!" Blaise yelled, pointing upward. Looking to the ceiling, Adrian squinted through his glasses and noticed something rather startling; the birds were not birds at all. Rather, they were winged keys of every shape, size, and color. "Wicked," Ron breathed. Glancing around, Adrian saw four ancient, heavy brooms leaning against the far wall. "I think we use these to catch them." "Ugh, they're so old," Draco said, wrinkling his nose. "Come on," Adrian sighed, grabbing his brother and dragging him toward the brooms.
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"Can I fly one?" Henry asked. "I've gotten loads better." "Sure, Henry. Just look for a big, old, silver key, alright?" Adrian said as Draco and Daphne each grabbed a broom. The four of them kicked off, flying lazily through the crowd of keys. "I see it!" Henry yelled. "There!" "Well, grab it then!" Draco yelled. "I can't, it's closer to Ade." Adrian looked around and saw a large, silver skeleton key with pale blue wings hovering a few feet in front of him. Somehow, he felt that this was the proper key. He tensed, preparing to spring. Just when he began to dart toward it, the key rocketed away from him. Setting his jaw, he chased stubbornly after it through a swarm of keys that suddenly rushed at him, slicing his skin as though it were nothing more than tissue paper. Wincing as a rather huge green-winged key cut his forehead jaggedly and another dug deep into his calf, the boy followed the key, forcing the broom to its ancient limits. All the while, he twisted and darted skillfully through the air after the silver key with light blue wings, praying to every deity that Hermione had ever mentioned that this was the right key and that he wasn't on a wild goose chase. Or key chase. Summoning all his strength, both physical and magical, Adrian ignored the many gouges and cuts and surged forward, closing his hands around the right wing. "Yes!" He pulled his arm to his chest and zoomed to the ground, tumbling off the broom with a groan. "Here," he grunted, waving the key wearily under a grim Ron's nose. "You alright, mate?" Ron asked, taking in his friend's many, many cuts. "I'm fine, Ron. Open the bloody door," he grunted, sitting up slowly as Draco,
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Daphne, and Henry landed around him. Looking up at Henry's face, he managed a slightly bloody grin. "Nice flying up there, Henry." "Thanks, I've been practicing." "Yeah, yeah, d'you think we could continue this love-fest later?" Ron asked sarcastically. "It isn't exactly safe down here!" "Does the key work?" Ron smirked hugely. "Yeah, and you wouldn't believe the next one!" Blaise and Draco tugged Adrian to his feet, and he leaned on Henry and Neville for support, as they were closer to his own height. "Alright, Ron. What are you so excited about?" Hermione sighed. Grinning broadly, Ron pushed the door open and hurried inside. Just beyond the door stood a massive chess set, over three times their own size; the knights' mounts were large enough for them to ride. "I see why Ron was so excited," Henry said hollowly. "He's actually good at wizard's chess." "And you aren't?" Hermione squeaked. "But you've grown up with that horrid game!" "Not all pure and half-bloods are good at chess, Hermione," Blaise explained. "Ron has a real gift with strategy and quick-thinking, which is probably why he is in our House." "Oi!" Ron yelled. "Why do I have to keep telling you lot; we need to move our arses!" They rolled their eyes and hurried to Ron's side, Adrian removing his arms from Henry and Neville's shoulders and sitting carefully on the edge of the chessboard. "What are we supposed to do?" Neville asked. "We have to play our way across the board," Ron said, surveying the obstacle gleefully. "It's simple, really. We're the black pieces, and they're white."
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"Ron, there's no way that Ade can play. He can't even stand up!" Henry said, glancing down at his friend, who scowled at him in return. "Well, you know I'm right, Ade!" "Right. Well, he can stand on the same place as someone else," Ron said. "But unless we want to leave him here, he has to play, like the rest of us." "How do you know?" Draco snapped. "Who's to say that we can't just drag him across right now?" "Hey!" Adrian objected, but no one heard him. "I already tried walking across the board, git," Ron snorted. "Watch." Ron ran across the board, only to be confronted with the points of the Pawns' swords. "See? We all have to play." Draco grumbled. "Well, let's get this over with." Ron set them in their places, keeping Adrian with him on the Knight's horse. After a tense moment, the center white pawn moved forward one space, and the game began. "Pawn to E4!" "Blaise, go to G5!" "Hermione, step forward!" "Neville go- not there! Stop!" Neville, in his excitement, stumbled forward and directly into the path of the white Knight. Looking up, Neville saw the Knight grin as his sword crashed down where he stood. Hermione screamed and started toward her friend, who lay motionless on the ground, his leg and foot bent at unnatural angles. "Stop, Hermione, or you'll be taken too!" Ron yelled, waving a hand at her sharply.
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"I don't care! He could be hurt or worse, Ronald, and all you care about is your stupid game!" Ron's face turned a brilliant shade of purple, which clashed with his hair. "Well, if that's what you think, you can just-" "Hermione, I can take the Knight, and see if he is alright," Draco offered before Ron could finish his retort. He moved to the proper place and brandished his wand rather than a sword, but the white Knight left the board all the same. He looked carefully at his fallen friend, and made sure not to move from his place. Looking back at them, he managed a smile. "His leg is broken, and I think the sword only clipped him. He's just unconscious, Hermione." "Thank Merlin," she breathed. Ron glared at her as he ordered Daphne to take a castle. The game seemed to take forever, but with Ron acting as general, the white pieces were falling quickly. "Okay, the Queen is still in play!" he yelled. "Blaise, can you take her out?" "No, Ron, I'm not in the right position!" "But I am," Ron muttered. Looking back at Adrian, who had been quiet this entire time, he saw that his friend was pale, his formerly white shirt awash with its owner's blood. The jagged cut on his forehead had caked his face with blood. "Drake! Drake, he's almost fallen unconscious!" Ron yelled. "He can't keep going after this, or he'll be hurt even more!" "Well, I'm not leaving him here alone!" Draco yelled back. "I-I'll stay with him," Ron said shakily. "I'll stay with him and Neville. It's my fault they're in this state anyway. I should have paid more attention-" "It's fine, Ron," Adrian said. "I'm fine, honestly." "No, it isn't," he muttered. "Knight to white Queen!" Ron sat tall on his mount as he approached the second last and most dangerous
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piece on the white team. "Now!" The horse bucked and kicked the Queen in the back, sending her sprawling. Taking the initiative, Draco boldly stepped forward into the King's path. "Check!" The King remained motionless as the sword dropped out of his hand. "YES!" Ron sagged in relief, quickly jumping off of the steed and pulling Adrian after him, the other boy's limp body sending him sprawling. "Drake! Help me with him!" Draco rushed to Ron's side, helping him carry his brother. "Hey, I can walk!" Adrian protested. "Yeah, you just can't stand up!" Draco grunted, hauling his brother to his feet. "Details." "I'm still staying with Neville," Ron said firmly. "Merlin only knows what else is down here." "Here, take this," Draco said, handing Adrian a bright orange potion. Adrian downed it gratefully. "Strengthening Potion," Draco explained. "He'll be able to stand up." "I'm going," Adrian said stubbornly. "Over my rotting corpse, you are!" Draco bellowed. "You're staying here with Ron, little brother." "I'm going!" "You are not!" "Going!" "Not!"
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"Going!" "Not!" "Stoppit!" The brothers looked at Hermione. "Draco, if he thinks he can make it, let him come. We need all the help we can get!" "But-" "But nothing," she said firmly. "That's how it is." Adrian grinned and dashed to the door, only limping a bit from his leg injuries. The potion seemed to have taken immediate effect. "Come on, then!" he called. "What's back here can't possibly be any worse than anything back there!" "I think it could be," Henry murmured, but as he was quiet, no one else heard him. "Oh, shit!" 'What did I tell them?' Henry thought, drawing his wand as he advanced toward the door. It was a troll. A huge, smelly mountain troll, even bigger than the one from Halloween. And it was pissed off. "Look, another one!" Hermione- or maybe Daphne- screamed. Indeed, there were two trolls in the room, both equal in size, smell, and rage. "You must be joking! Three!" Henry whirled around. Three mountain trolls in a school? Dumbledore must be mad!
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But it was true, what they said; trouble really did come in threes. And the six children were surrounded. "Now what?" HA! A cliffie! I have the rest written, and I shall post it Saturday! Enjoy! Oh, and I apologize for the mislabeling of the previous chapter! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty Previously: "Now what?" Somewhere Below Hogwarts, 26 March, 1991 The door slammed shut loudly behind the children. Adrian rushed to the door, casting the unlocking spell several times. "It won't work, we're trapped!" "Adrian, duck!" Draco yelled. His brother instantly complied, dropping to the ground and rolling away from the door and into the fetal position as the trolls roared simultaneously, swinging their clubs at the objects of their ire. Blaise tackled Henry out of the way as a troll nearly smashed him from behind, rolling away as another swung at the spot where he'd rested for a moment. "Hermione, move!" Daphne shrieked, waving her friend away from her line of sight. She leveled her wand at the third troll. "Diffindo!" The troll grunted as layers of its thick hide were sliced through, roaring in rage and advancing toward the girls. "Depulso! Difindo! Wingardium Leviosa!" Hermione and Daphne yelled, slashing their wands and yelling the spells as the troll came closer. "Defodio!" Draco roared, pointing his wand at the troll's head. A strange look came over its face as a hole appeared in its forehead, rapidly growing larger and larger until the hole consumed the troll's entire face. It made a disgusting gurgling noise, flailing around and nearly trampling the three first-years. Finally, it slumped to the ground, completely unmoving. Blood pooled around its neck, where only a small portion of the skull remained. "What in Merlin's name was that?" Hermione gasped. "Digging spell," Draco called back. "Now move!"
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Glancing up, Daphne and Hermione saw yet another troll charging them. The girls dove to the side to avoid the impact of the truly massive club the troll held, wincing as they slammed onto the stone floor a few feet away. On the other side of the room, Henry, Blaise, and Adrian were battling the biggest troll of all, and this one had the advantage of armor of some sort, wielding two clubs and swinging at them constantly. The boys were putting up a very good fight, however, dodging and weaving while sending off attacks of their own. Just after he'd sent another Stinging Hex at the troll's eyes, Adrian saw the other troll swing its club at Hermione. Evidently, Draco saw it as well, because he ran to her side and shoved her out of its path, sprawling across the floor as the heavy weapon descended. Draco's howl echoed hauntingly through the room as the club smashed his legs. Adrian saw it all. He began to vibrate, a blindingly white light pulsating around him as his shock grew to anger. The whites of his eyes turned black, and a whirlwind began to slowly swirl around his feet as his anger grew to rage. Henry was engulfed in shadow, his hazel eyes turning white, and his screams of surprised fear mingled with Adrian's screams of fury, creating a hauntingly discordant harmony. And then, the trolls began to tremble, slowly at first and then with more and more frequency. When the light met shadow, it was bright in the room, so bright that the others feared they would be blinded. And then, everything was gray as a shockwave- like thunder without sound- ripped through the chamber, knocking the children to the ground and forcing them to cover their heads. When Hermione dared look up again, the trolls were splattered everywhere, even on their robes. She gagged as she accidentally inhaled, and slipped out of her school robe, which was covered in a grey mush that she really didn't want to think about.
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Draco was still screaming, and Hermione could see why: his legs were completely smashed, a bloody pool growing around them. Adrian wobbled where he stood across the room, blinking confusedly, as was Blaise, who after a moment, collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious. Daphne was moaning quietly, but remaining motionless on the cold stone floor. Henry shuddered violently and sat up, gripping his head in his hands. "H-Henry?" she asked, voice cracking with fear. "Yeah?" he asked. She jumped a bit: his voice reverberated and hummed through several different octaves. "I-I think they're knocked out," she stammered, slightly stunned. His hazel eyes were a glowing white, and he seemed to float through the air like a ghost. 'The influx of power' The phrase they'd used to explain their dual hospitalizations echoed through her head: Henry was a sponge when it came to excess magic, and Adrian practically radiated it. She sucked in a breath: Henry was sucking the magic right out of their friend, like some magical parasite. She needed to get him away from here. "Try the door, and call Ron for help," she ordered. He nodded, and the door burst into splinters as he approached it and calmly glided outside. "Uhn," Adrian groaned, knees buckling beneath him as he tried to move toward his brother. She leaped to her feet and ran to Draco's side. He was deathly pale, and he seemed to have passed out from the pain. "Henry, we need to get Draco to the Hospital Wing! Now!" she screamed.
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Draco began to float above the ground, and his limp body zoomed into the other room. "Her-Hermione," Adrian coughed, looking down at his ripped and gory shirt. "It- it hurts." She looked and almost passed out herself, for his shirt was turned scarlet with blood, and a shard of troll bone was lodged in his chest, just below his ribcage on the right side, evidently from when the trolls had exploded. The wounds from the keys had also reopened, and he was turning as pale as his brother. "I-I can't" "Henry" she screamed, catching Adrian as he fell forward, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Henry!" The boy glided back into the room, magic crackling around him like lightning. "Henry, he's dying, he's losing too much blood!" she cried. "I don't know any healing spells! We can't help him!" "Move," Henry rumbled, stretching his hands toward Adrian. Adrian shuddered and wheezed in her arms as she carefully lowered him to the ground and backed away. Henry's hands glowed blue, and he laid them gently on his friend, who twitched and bucked, and eventually began to scream as red, glistening steam rose above him, along with a gray dust that Hermione could only hope was the troll bone. Henry held steady through all of this, even as the red mist seeped back into his wounds and his skin seemed to sew itself back together. The only indication of the power he used was that his glowing white eyes slowly faded back to their original hazel. Adrian was squirming wildly now, having re-absorbed most of his lost blood, and thus his energy. "Henry, you can stop." Hermione turned and saw a harried-looking Ron standing in the shadows, calm and collected as ever. The tall redhead laid a large, freckle-covered hand on his smaller friend's
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shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You can stop, mate." Henry seemed to exhale, and he returned to normal, leaning back against Ron's leg for support as he breathed heavily. Adrian blinked and sat up, squinting through his glasses. "I-I can't see anything! Why can't I see?" he cried. Hermione slowly removed the glasses. "I think that Henry may have healed more than your cuts, Adrian," she said quietly, smiling at Henry. "Henry?" Adrian said, looking over at his friend and seeming amazed at how well he could see him without his glasses. Henry glanced up. "Thank you, so very much." "I-it's never a problem, Ade." "Right!" Ron said loudly, clapping his hands together. "Now that this touching scene is over, what do you say we take the others to the Hospital Wing before we all die?" "We can't, we have to get the Stone!" Henry said, pulling himself to his feet. "Henry, Draco and Neville are really badly hurt. They have to go back," Hermione said. "And so they have. Blaise and Daphne are with them," Henry smirked. "They should be nearly there by now." "So, you really want to keep going? After everything that's happened?" Hermione asked slowly. The blond and the raven-haired boys nodded firmly, and Ron merely set his jaw stubbornly. She sighed. One day, all these boys would be the death of her
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They edged toward the door, cautiously, unsure of what lay beyond it. "On the count of three," Ron breathed, drawing his wand once more. "One." "Two." "THREE!" The four of them burst into the room, yelling their various battle cries, and they came up against; Potions. Ron flopped to the ground. "Oh, come on! I think I prefer the trolls!" Hermione snorted at his antics and grabbed a slip of paper that lie on top of a beaker near her. Just as they'd all entered the room, black flames sprang up behind them, and purple flames ahead. Hermione yelped, and Ron dragged her bodily away from the fire. Removing his robe, Ron ripped off a tattered sleeve and tossed it onto the flames, where it burst into flame and disappeared within moments. At Hermione's questioning look, he shrugged. "I wanted to be sure that they were real." She snorted again and began to read; "Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
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Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight." "Oh good," Ron said, mock cheerfully. "I'm glad that that isn't confusing at all!" "It really isn't, Ron," Adrian said, peering over Hermione's left shoulder, Henry looking over on the other side of her. "Look, there are seven bottles, beakers, and jars, right? Well, we can definitely say that this is Uncle Sev's puzzle." The boys both chuckled and rested their chins on her shoulders, still reading the riddle. Hermione rolled her eyes and began pacing in front of the potions, and the boys fell forward, their chinrest having moved rather abruptly, and Ron, who had been standing across the room, burst out laughing. Henry scowled, and Adrian shot a Tickling Hex at the redhead, smirking as it hit him right in the ribs. "If you're done," Hermione huffed, arms crossed, though the fond smile she was trying to hide ruined her serious expression. "I've figured it out." The boys whipped around to stare at her in amazement. "This," she said proudly, holding a tiny vial of potion in her palm, "is the potion
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that will allow two- yes, two, Ronald- of us to move forward." Moving to the right end of the table, she picked up a round bottle and rolled it lazily in her hand. "This should allow the other two of us to get back through to the troll room." "So, who moves forward" Adrian started. "and who goes back?" Henry finished. So, this is the third-to-last chapter Comments? And, before I am bombarded, yes, Henry used Adrian's own formerly-excess magic to heal him. This wouldn't work for Draco or Neville because Adrian's magic was specifically attuned to only him, and the sheer force of what Henry did would have overwhelmed them, potentially causing even more damage to them than was already done. Keep in mind, Adrian's magic is very potent, and he has been dealing with that fact for his entire life. He can deal with it, and other people- unless they are like Henry- cannot handle it. Thank you, and I shall return soon! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-One Previously: "So who moves forward?" Adrian started. "and who goes back?" Henry finished. Through the Trapdoor, Hogwarts, Scotland, 26 March, 1991 "Should we draw straws, or, play some sort of game?" Hermione asked. At Ron and Adrian's puzzled looks, Henry said, "Those are Muggle ways of deciding something, mates." "Oh," Ron said. "Well, we have an easier way, Hermione. Watch." The three boys set their wands on the ground, and she reluctantly followed suit. "Okay, now you say, 'Who goes through the next door?', and then say Point Me! That's the enchantment," Ron said. "It's usually a directional spell, but it can also help solve problems, because- even though the wand chooses the wizard initiallythe wands are actually non-sentient, and thus unbiased." "That's very interesting," Hermione said, looking up at him curiously. "But I didn't come across that in the Charms book." "You wouldn't," Henry said. "It's a common spell used in wizarding homes, Hermione, but it's actually taught in fourth year." Her brow furrowed. "Then how-" They all gave her a look, and she sheepishly caught the meaning. She flushed. "Right, pure-blood, pure-blood," she said, pointing at Ron and Adrian, "half-blood," she said, gesturing toward Henry. Then, pointing at herself, she sighed, "Uneducated Muggleborn."
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"Nah, Hermione, not uneducated," Ron said, throwing an arm over her shoulder and side-hugging her affectionately. "Just just new is all." She smiled up at the tall boy. "Thanks, Ron." "Okay, all set," Henry announced. "One-" "Enough of the dramatic countdowns," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Can't we just do this?" "Uh, sure," Henry said. "Who goes through the next door? Point Me!" they all yelled. The four wands spun rapidly, and two wands- Hermione and Ron's- pointed at Henry, while Adrian's wand and Henry's own pointed at Adrian. They couldn't help but grin, even as Ron's face fell from excitement into disappointment. "Come on, drink up," Hermione said, handing the rounded jar to him. "Only half, though, because I still need to get through. I honestly didn't want to go." Adrian nodded in silent agreement; he was worried- really worried- about his brother. He didn't think that legs were ever supposed to look like that "Yeah, yeah," Ron grumbled playfully, downing half of the potion and shuddering violently. "Urgh! It's like swallowing ice!" Hermione grimaced and swallowed the remainder of the potion, shuddering much like Ron had. Drinking the potion was indeed like swallowing ice. "Go, before the potion wears off," Henry said, shooing them toward the troll room. "Please, please make sure that Draco will be okay," Adrian pleaded. "Be careful," Hermione said as she walked through the flames, untouched. "I can't take too much more of this."
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"Yeah, watch your backs," Ron nodded, following after her with a raised hand in their direction. And then they were alone. Bottoms up," Henry murmured, sipping his half and choking, handing the tiny vial to Adrian, who followed suit immediately. "Onward, then," Adrian said, and both boys stepped into the fire. "A mirror?" "Wha- where's the Stone?" The boys looked wildly around the room, and all they found was a huge mirror. "What the hell?" Adrian burst out, just as Henry shouted "Bollocks!" They glared at the mirror and then shared identical looks of annoyance. "Well, we came this far on guts and luck," Adrian shrugged. "Yeah, but we left our brains back there," Henry replied, jerking his thumb in the direction Ron and Hermione had taken. They stepped forward and stood in front of the mirror, staring at it intently. And then, Henry gasped, for he saw things- people- that weren't there. There was Henry's own reflection, but the boy in the mirror was clean, and looked to have been getting a normal amount of sleep. The "reflection" suddenly grinned and pulled his shirt open to reveal a scar-less chest. His father stood directly behind him, ruffling his hair and laughing heartily with Remus- who looked far younger without his scars and gray hairs- and Sirius, who had his arm around James' shoulders. His father, he noticed, looked immensely happy and carefree. He'd never seen his father attempt to wrestle anyone before, much less a man almost a full head taller than himself. His mother stood to far side of the mirror, shaking her head fondly at the adultchildren her husband and his friends were. She smiled hugely at him, and he noticed that she didn't have any wrinkles in her forehead, and her distinctive auburn hair
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was free of any gray hairs. Her famous emerald eyes were sparkling with mirth. But what- or rather who- was standing next to him in the mirror was what truly had him reeling. It was Harry. His brother looked exactly like he'd heard, almost identical to him- right down to the wild black hair and wiry frame-, except for brilliant green eyes, identical to their mother's. Harry was laughing so hard at the astonishment on Henry's face was hanging onto the boy's reflection for support. Even Henry's own- traitorousreflection seemed to be chuckling at him, idly flipping a red stone from hand to hand. "Henry?" Henry jumped and looked over to Adrian, who was gripping his shoulder and shaking him roughly, as though to wake him up. "What?" "What are you looking at yourself like that for?" Adrian asked, cocking his head to the side like a curious dog. "Wha- can't you see him?" Henry asked, looking back at his reflection and doing a double take when he realized that Adrian and Harry were standing in the exact same places (as compared to Henry and his reflection), except Harry was rolling his eyes and slapping his forehead and saying something to Henry's reflection that he couldn't hear, and Adrian looked annoyed with him. "don't see anyone but you, and this really isn't the time for jokes," Adrian said, sounding really irritated. "I'm not joking! Look!" Henry insisted, stepping slightly to the side and dragging his friend to where he'd stood before. "Do you see him now?" Henry asked smugly. But what Adrian saw was quite different. He saw his reflection, of course, and he also saw Draco lazily leaning on his shoulder, as the taller boy did fairly often. Draco's long legs were crossed at the
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ankles, not appearing to have ever suffered any damage. Marvela was there as well, hugging her bear tightly and giggling at him. She looked much the same as when he'd seen her at Christmas. And she was there as well. The girl from the photographs he and Draco had found years ago in the attic. She was very pretty, with long blond hair and sparkling dark blue eyes. She was older than he and Draco were, probably thirteen, and she planted a kiss on Draco's cheek, which seemed to disgust him immensely and amuse her to no end. What mattered most of all to him was the way his parents were standing; his right arm around her waist and pulling her closer, her resting her head on his shoulder, her hand on the one he had on her hip. Lucius had his sleeves rolled up, revealing an unmarked left arm, and his mother wasn't wearing her silver band on her left arm, either. 'They've never taken the mark' His mother looked younger and happier than he'd ever dreamed of seeing her, her robes bearing a faint dusting of flour, and his father his father His father was smiling. Genuinely, truly, openly smiling. There were no shadows in his lively gray eyes, and he surveyed the children and wife before him with a relaxed satisfaction. His hair was shorter, though he kept it long enough that it fell in his face, causing him to run his fingers through it to push it back constantly. With the white blond strands falling into his gray eyes, it became obvious how much Draco resembled his father. And with her face unlined and happy, it became obvious how much Marvela and the other girl resembled his mother. And with all of these facts literally staring him in the face, it became obvious how little he looked like either of his parents. "Ade?" Adrian shook his head and focused on Henry, who was positively beaming at him.
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Looking back into the mirror, he stumbled back, frightened at how absorbed in the image he'd become. Henry eagerly took his place in front o the mirror. "Isn't it great? Did you see him?" Henry asked excitedly. "No. I- I saw my family," Adrian muttered. "Henry, tha- those people the mirror doesn't it isn't real, I don't think." "Of course it's real! Look! I can see him!" Henry said absently. "Can you?" Adrian muttered and grabbed the back of Henry's shirt and dragged him away from the mirror, ignoring his friend's squawks of protest. "Hey!" "Look at the mirror now, Henry," Adrian urged, pointing at it. "What do you see now?" "I- I see us. Just us," Henry said, sounding shocked at the realization f reality. "We're a bloody mess, mate" "You don't see anyone else, do you?" Adrian asked. Henry shook his head mutely. "What you see in the mirror it isn't real, mate." "It could be," Henry challenged. "No," Adrian said gently. "It can't. I saw things- impossible things- in that mirror, things undone which cannot be undone. It isn't the future, or a glimpse of it." "Well, what is it, then?" "It shows you what you want most," Adrian whispered. "Look there, at the top of the frame!" "Erised?" Henry asked, squinting. "I think that the letters are all backwards" "Look," Adrian said, turning backwards and holding up his near-broken glasses. The word became clear in the reflection of the inscription; Desire. "My- my reflection had a stone, a red stone!" Henry said. "We have to want the stone to find it, I think!"
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"Let me try again," Adrian said, cutting of Henry's angry reply. "I already know that it isn't real." He stepped boldly forward and focused everything he had left into wanting the Stone, if only to show up Dumbledore and return it to the rightful owner, Mister Nicholas Flamel. He certainly wouldn't want to live forever, and he didn't need any gold. Although Ron could certainly use some He opened his eyes, not remembering that he'd shut them, and saw his true reflection- he was dirty, slimy, and sweaty and covered in troll mush, but his reflection grinned at him all the same, flipping a red stone in its hand and studying him thoroughly. Finally, the reflection smirked conspiratorially at him and dropped the red stone into his pants pocket. As the reflection did this, he felt a weight drop into his own pocket and nearly screamed with relief. They'd done it. Eight "children" had broken through maximum security and stolen what is arguably the most valuable object in the world. And all out of sheer curiosity. As these thoughts ran through his mind, he suddenly froze. "Drake," he whispered. While he'd been wrapped up with the strange vision in the mirror, his brother was in the hospital, seriously hurt, or worse And then he ran from the room, leaving a very concerned Henry in his wake. "? Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan yoooooooooooooooooooooou heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaar meeeeeeeeeeeeeee?" He stirred, swinging at the empty air restlessly to rid himself of the irritant. This annoying echoing was going to wake him up. And he was so tired "Mister Malfoy, your brother is unconscious. He wouldn't even talk to-"
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"I want to see my brother!" Adrian exploded. "And Nevile and Daphne and Blaise, too!" "Yes, I'll bet you do. Care to tell me how they were all mysteriously injured at the same time, Malfoy?" Madam Pomphrey challenged. "Because neither Mister Weasley, nor Miss Granger can seem to remember. And neither could Mister Zabini or Miss Greengrass, before they passed out from exhaustion" "Look," he said hotly, displaying his feet, which appeared to have come into contact with something that would melt trainers. "My feet are sore, and my ankles are burned, so you have to treat me!" She scowled at him, and for a brief moment, he was glad that he'd foolishly run through the fires at the potions challenge. But only for a moment, as he was suddenly levitated and pulled into the Hospital Wing. It was going to be a long night. Wooo! So, the last chapter will be up when I have time to post it. I have a big family thing that'll be consuming my time for the rest of the week, so I won't be back for a couple days, at least. I hope you enjoyed the penultimate chapter in my first- ever fanfic, and I shall see you soon! -TheNefariousMe

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Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Two (Wow, I just realized that I was stupid and forgot to change the year after the Christmas chapters. Oops.) Hospital Wing, Hogwarts, Scotland, 29 March, 1992 He opened his eyes. He didn't really want to, but there were loud, angry voices coming from not far away, and his curiosity got the better of him. "still unconscious! You'll disrupt my other patients!" "I don't care!" "I'm his brother!" "Five points each from Slytherin and Hufflepuff! I healed your burns yesterday, Malfoy, and yours as well, Potter! Now leave!" Madam Pomfrey practically shouted. "No!" Henry and Adrian yelled back. It seemed time to wake up. "Uhn" He opened his eyes and everything seemed to be moving slowly. He shook his head, hoping his eyes would focus, but he just couldn't get them to. "Why does everything look so weird?" he slurred. "You are under a sedation potion, along with Skele-Grow and a blood replenishing potion, Mister Malfoy. Do you remember being injured?" Madam Pomfrey asked, shooting Henry and Adrian a look as she bustled over to his bedside. Seeing the way his brother and friend frantically shook their heads, he assumed that they'd somehow kept their venture a secret thus far.
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"N-no, I don't. What happened?" he asked. "I don't know, Mister Malfoy. All of your friends came into my wing with injuries, and none of them could tell me how they got them!" she huffed. "Yours and your brother's were the worst." "Will I be alright?" he asked, voicing the question his brother had mouthed at him. "Yes, yes. You'll be very sore- I had to remove and re-grow all the bones below your waist, but you will make a full recovery," she said, pouring a thick, syrupy red potion into a measuring spoon. "Now drink up, you lost a lot of blood." He gagged as the thick potion went down his throat. "So, none of you seem to remember anything," she continued, rolling her eyes at Draco "and I can't find any evidence that you did anything against the rules. All I can reasonably guess is that Mister Longbottom fell down the stairs and hit his head, something large and heavy fell on your legs, Miss Granger was covered in the same sludge as Weasley, Zabini, and Greengrass, and your brother and Mister Potter suffered from severe burns on their legs and feet." "So, we aren't in trouble?" Adrian asked hopefully. "No, seeing as I cannot prove that you did anything wrong, you are not in any trouble. However, if you- any of you- ever receive such severe injuries under such mysterious circumstances again, I will dock every single house point from every single house one of you belongs to," she said, her voice and glare more chilling than any that the boys had ever received. "Yes ma'am," they mumbled, heads bowed. "Good. Mister- Draco- Malfoy, you will remain in here until I release you," she said. "Until then, you will remain in bed, asleep." "But-" "No buts," she scolded. Glancing over at the other two boys, she scowled. "And no visitors." Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, 1 April, 1992 "Happy to be out of the wing, Drake?" Adrian asked, taking a bite of roast and
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smirking at his brother and tossing the red Stone high into the air before snatching it deftly. "Oh, shuttup, Ade. It was your fault I was in there so long. She was punishing me because you kept coming and annoying her," Draco groused. "Malfoys don't do annoying, Draco," Adrian said, wiping his mouth primly. "It is most unbecoming." The others stared at him and then burst into laughter. "You sounded just like my grandmother!" Daphne hooted. "Urgh, that old bat?" Blaise grimaced. "I met her at a party once. She told me that I should change my name, as Italians are undesirable in a husband. I was six at the time." "I guarantee that my mum's Auntie Muriel is worse," Ron chuckled. "We agree, little brother." The first years turned to see Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George. "What do you want?" Adrian asked coldly. "To talk to the notorious Firebrands," George whispered, a smirk blooming on his face. "Nothing overly important," Fred shrugged. "Know where we could find them?" the twins asked together. "How did you find out?" Ron asked, glaring at his smirking brothers. "Well" George started. "remember how the winners of the war were promised a map?" Fred asked. The first-years nodded. "We found it interesting that you lot always disappeared off the map mere hours before some spectacular prank went down" George said, grinning at them.
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"and believe us, they were spectacular; the anti-gravity spell? Brilliant," Fred said, clapping Ron hard on the back and smiling. "Well, anyway, you lot of ikle firsties deserve this," George said, taking out a blank piece of worn parchment and handing it solemnly to Adrian and Draco. Then, Fred winked and said, "Maybe we could collaborate a bit next year, eh?" "Hogwarts wouldn't know what hit it!" George prompted, still grinning. The children grinned with them, sharing conspiratorial looks. Wouldn't know, indeed. The twins started to walk away from the table when Ron stood and smiled tentatively at them. "Happy birthday." Through the Trapdoor, Hogwarts, Scotland, 13 June, 1992 Finally. After months- no, years- of scheming and planning, the moment had come. He would regain his body. Tonight. "Master, perhaps this is not a good ide- AUGH!" Quirrell screamed. "Silence, fool!" he hissed. "Do not dare to question me!" "Y-yes, master," Quirrell wimpered. The dog had posed no problems; the stupid brute was sound asleep. The ridiculous vines were something a child could conquer, with a bit of fire. The winged keys were defeated with a strong summoning spell, and he merely walked across the chessboard, blowing up any pieces that tried to stop him. The trolls had evidently slaughtered one another at some point, and the potions were easy as well. Nothing compared to his power, even diminished as it was.
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The last challenge was Dumbledore's own, and he would relish defeating the old man, even in this one way. As he stepped through the fire, grinning triumphantly, there was a sudden flash, a click, and a winding noise, almost like"A-a camera, my Lord?" Quirrell stammered, questioning. There was a large mirror in the room, and mounted at the top was a camera. And a note, written in a child's hand. It read, "Smile; you're on candid camera! And we were here first! Many thanks, The Firebrands." "My-my Lord?" Quirrell screamed his death throes well into the night as his master departed in a rage. Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, Scotland, 6 June, 1992 "What happened to him, Albus?" "I am afraid I do not know, my old friend," the Headmaster replied sadly, removing his spectacles and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "The best I can guess is that he was some sort of host to a parasite. When it departed from him, he diedviolently, it would appear." "And dare I ask about the Stone?" "It was taken, but not by Quirinus. I suspect that it was taken by either his accomplice, or someone who came before him. I did not find it on his body." "So, someone unknown has my Stone- my life's work- and doesn't plan to use it for themselves?" "That is how the enchantment worked, my friend," Dumbledore nodded. "I want it back, Albus!" "I know that, Nicholas! But there are only so many things I can do!"
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The taller, older, and altogether fiercer man stood, his dark brown eyes narrowed angrily. "My wife and I will set our affairs in order. Our lives have been long and happy, and I do not have enough faith left in you to get my Stone back in the six months my wife and I have left. This is the last time we will meet, Albus Dumbledore." Dumbledore hung his head as his oldest and dearest friend- and political allywalked out of his office forever. Beside the Black Lake,Hogwarts, Scotland, 10 June, 1992 "AUGH! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!" Henry yelled, throwing his History of Magic book clear across the bank. "I'M TOO BLOODY STUPID TO TAKE EXAMS!" "Is the boy-who-lived experiencing some difficulty?" Draco asked innocently. Henry scowled and send a blasting hex after his book. "I hate Professor Binns! I can never stay awake in his bloody class!" "No one can," Ron called from his perch on a tall branch. "Except for Hermione." She grinned up at him from her place on the ground. "It isn't easy." "Hermione, please help me," Henry moaned, head in his hands. "It's all so boring." She smiled fondly at him and patted the ground next to where she was sitting. "Of course, but only if you teach me some of that advanced Tansfiguration Professor Lupin has been helping you with." He grinned back and retrieved his book, plopping onto the ground beside her. "Deal!" "Drake, can you help me with this potion? I'm awful," Neville wimpered, watching as the tar-like mess ate through his cauldron and burned a hole into the ground. "What are partners for?" Draco smiled and sat down next to his friend. Adrian was up high in the tree, to the point where the branches bent under his and Blaise's weight. "What are you going to do with the Stone?" Blaise asked, watching curiously as Adrian flipped the Stone in question from hand to hand.
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"Well, I really don't need- or want- anything the stone can make. I don't want to live forever, and I don't really need any gold" Adrian mused. "So what are you going to use it for?" Blaise asked. "Not for myself," Adrian said, a note of finality as he plucked the Stone out of the air once more and stuck it in his pants pocket. "Maybe for a friend who could use the money, I guess." "Are you talking about Ron, or Neville?" Blaise asked with a smile, glancing over at Adrian smugly. "Both? Mostly Ron, I think," Adrian shrugged. "You're a good guy, Ade," Blaise said, smiling at his friend and beginning his descent from the tree. Adrian grinned down at his friend, deciding to stay in the tree a bit longer before he was surrounded by the pre-exam madness below. He carefully sat down, straddling the whippy bough and leaning easily against the huge tree trunk. Loki was running around with Daphne, barking happily as she chased him around. He took the Stone back out of his pocket, admiring the way in glimmered and shone in the bright afternoon light. 'Maybe I should give this back after all,' he mused. 'I really isn't mine, after all. 'But then again,' he reasoned, 'I did earn it' He threw it high into the air and watched it fall into his palm with a gentle smack. "I think I'll keep you," he said to the Stone, "at least for a few weeks." Hogsmeade Station, Hogsmeade, Scotland, 20 June, 1992 "Hermione, are you crying?" "No!" she sniffled. "Oh, Hermione, we'll be back soon!" Neville said, attempting to comfort his friend.
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"Only two months, and we'll all be together again." Loki barked in agreement from his position at Adrian's side. "She isn't crying," Ron said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders as they walked. "She just has some sad in her eyes." The others laughed heartily. "Where did you hear that?" Hermione asked. "About the sad in my eyes, I mean." He shrugged, smiling easily. "It was something my mum used to say when Fred and George would tease me for crying when I was little." "It's cute," she giggled, and he scowled. "It is not!" "We have to do stuff this summer! I can't imagine two months without seeing you lot!" Henry laughed as Ron picked up a squealing Hermione and spun her around as fast as he could before setting her down dizzy. "I agree mate," Ron said, grinning ear to ear. "We all need to practice Quidditch so we can make the teams next year!" "So, you're planning on trying out as well, Ron?" Adrian asked. "What position?" Draco asked. "Either Keeper or Chaser," he shrugged. "Nothing fancy." "Hey, I'm trying out for Chaser!" Daphne called. "Me too!" Draco cheered. "Beater," Blaise smirked. As if to demonstrate his hitting abilities, he smacked Ron across the back of his head. "OI!" Ron yelled, tackling the laughing Italian boy. "What about you, Ade?" Hermione asked.
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"Seeker," he grinned. "I'm trying for Chaser, like my dad," Henry said. At their astonished looks, he became defensive. "Hey, Uncle Remy has been helping me practice a lot! I've gotten pretty good!" "Whatever you say, Hank," Adrian said, shaking his head and smiling. "Enough with the 'Hank' thing!" Henry scowled as they boarded the train. "My name is Henry!" They all filed into a compartment at the back of the train and sat quietly for a while, each lost in a swirl of their own thoughts. "Next year, my sister Ginny will be at Hogwarts," Ron said softly, breaking the hour-long silence. "Next year, we'll miss another one of Vela's birthdays," Adrian said sadly, and Draco nodded somberly. "Next year, my cousin is getting married," Daphne said. "I'm one of the bridesmaids." "Next year, my mother will be remarried. Again," Blaise sighed. Daphne patted him on the back consolingly. "Next year, we won't be first years," Neville mumbled. "Next year, there won't be a three-headed dog," Henry said. Neville smiled. "Next year, we'll all be together again," Hermione said, smiling. "Next year, Slytherin will win the Quidditch Cup," Blaise smirked. "Again," Draco added. "Next year, we'll finally get Hermione on a broom!" Daphne and Ron said together, and Hermione glared playfully at the two of them over the top of her book. "I resent that," she said primly, turning the page of her book. "Next year, I'll get you back."
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"Next year, I'll help Professor Sprout in the greenhouses, like she asked me too," Neville declared, blushing only slightly. "Next year, I'll have Uncle Remy," Henry grinned. "Next year, I'll talk to Uncle Severus more," Adrian said. Loki barked sharply, tail whacking painfully against Adrian's leg. "Ouch, you arse!" he yelped, rubbing his calf. Loki snorted. "Next year, I'm getting a new wand. I don't care if I have to get a job," Ron declared. "But I'll have something of my own, besides the broom." Blaise shot a look at Adrian, who was pointedly staring in the opposite direction. "Next year, we'll remember this year," Draco said, smiling at them. "And I hope we laugh about it." Yes, the FINAL chapter in this story. There will be a sequel, the first chapter of which I will post soon. That story will NOT have as many chapters as this one does! I hope you all enjoyed this tale, and I love all of the amazing people who have reviewed! Much adoration and thanks to the readers, -TheNefariousMe

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