Chapter 17: Taking up the Helm
Severus stared down at the parchment in his hand, head bent, greasy hair falling over his face, and great hooked nose hanging in his line of vision. He had the ring. Altair Castell had the ring. Severus took several deep breaths to steady himself; his head was feeling light.
What the fuck.
"Sweet Merlin! Do you have any mercy for me?"
The candles flickered, casting shadows across the cleared desk and crumpled page. The headmaster was currently oblivious, and yet, seemed more alive than ever. He was finally taking up the helm he had thankfully placed down after the battle with Grindelwald. He was finally taking responsibility for the fate of the Wizarding world...just so that Altair Castell could come swooping down and swipe the ring from their snatches! But why? For what purpose? The man was an idiot! What had Severus missed? And his son, presently unconscious in the hospital wing- Albus was talking with Fudge about the removal of the dementors from the premises. What had the boy been doing outside anyway?
The ring, the boggart, the parseltongue, the Animagus, the memories... He wondered, even now, if Lupin knew too much. A simple obliviate would do to erase all the evidence warranting Hasan Castell for investigation- Merlin knew he did not want his loyalties questioned because of Altair Castell of all reasons! Just when the light had come to view him as a semi-human being, they would all jump at the chance to color him black and incriminate him once more: in league with Death Eaters, hiding valuable secret from Dumbledore. Yes, Rita would have a field day.
But he wouldn't. And why? It was unnecessary- what if Siri- er, Black found out and linked it to him, where would he be then? Oliviating people left and right, no, that would be illogical. And, although he didn't want to admit it, he felt a sort of loyalty to Lupin for keeping his secret about his investigation on Hasan. Maybe Lupin would hear something, see something that would help? Oh, who was he kidding? The damn wolf was growing on him and no way was he fucking around with anyone's brains.
He groaned and tossed the letter in his drawer. It was late, entirely too late to be up thinking. He walked slowly into his chambers and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey. Perhaps it was time to just unwind? The sweet burning taste hit his tongue dryly, sliding over his palate like a desert snake...
.oOo.
Hasan cracked open his slick slanted lids, large smooth scales brushing pleasurably against the cold wooden floor. His tail extended far behind his head, twenty feet or so, impressive among any snake. Gleaming pointed fangs protruded from his strong jaws, a thin, papery tongue darting out to taste the sultry air.
It was morning, and the sun struggled through the thick black curtains to cast shapeless shadows on the floor. His plan was running smoothly, and yet, he needed another, he needed another...And poor Pettigrew never did possess the brains to avoid capture. After this one, he'd be able to make Nagini so completely a part of him and absorb enough Dark Magic to regain a form. A crippled form, a terrible, pitiful form, but a form none the less...
A creak at the door alerted of the man's presence. He was called Frank Bryce by the locals and was once the Riddle's gardener, he still was, if you ignored the fact that the Riddle's were dead, killed in this very house in fact without any indication of how, many, many years ago. The electric light buzzed and flickered in the foyer, as Frank entered the manor with a set of jingling keys. Hasan watched two feet step before his eyes, clad in heavy leather boots with an untied lace, and a cane. He curled into himself beneath the foyer chair, head tilting upward at just the right angle to see the man. He was an older gentleman, heavily lined face, tired but sharp eyes, and an overall slight disposition. Not as significant, valuable, or difficult as Hasan would have liked, but he would have to do.
The hallway lights switched on full blast with the exclamation of, "My god-!" and a dropping jaw. His cane rose, poised to jab at the serpent, but Hasan was too fast! Lightning quick, his body lunged forward in a powerful release of his tightened muscles, and his long thick fangs protruded into the cane, snapping it cleanly, splinters flying everywhere.
"Ge' off! Ge' off! I'll kill those Lexington boys, always playing practical jokes!"
Frank tossed the desecrated stick to the ground, hitting the floor beside Hasan. Pitiful muggle, Hasan smirked, rearing against the padded cushion of the chair before seizing the man's good leg between two powerful jaws. His venom dripped into the bleeding flesh; he could feel the poison leaving him, replenishing, flowing. The man let out a strangled scream, falling crippled against the wall without use of either of his legs. His hands went out to beat the serpent, slapping wildly against the scaly armor, to no avail. Hasan clenched tighter in warning, the rest of his body following in a coil, slowly constricting about the man's thigh and upper knee. Tighter...tighter...
"AH! Goddammit!" Frank had no family, and most of the town thought he was either insane or a murderer. Who would answer his pleas at 4 in the morning? Who would dare come running to the Riddle House? For Frank Bryce? Surely not...
Hasan chuckled around his mouth full of blood, relishing in the hopelessness rolling off the man in waves. He let the energy fuel him, internalizing it within himself! Ah! Glorious dark energy! Whooshing like a broken damn; the floodgates were open! Hasan spat out a hunk of clothing and wrapped himself tighter, poising for the final strike.
SNAP!
His jaw disfiguring the man's skull, his teeth ripping through flesh and bone and blood. The man was incessantly screaming now, or perhaps Hasan had finally just noticed? No matter, the man stopped struggling, his limbs going slack, his screams a gurgle...
Dead. Frank Bryce was dead. Ah! What it felt like to be this empowered! The Dark Magic was swirling about him, enticing and sweet and seductive. He breathed it in and shut his lids.
Nagini, you will be the sixth. The sixth. My sixth...
.oOo.
Hasan's jade eyes snapped open, the bright light of the infirmary flooding through him like a laser beam. He cringed, biting his lip as the sound returned around him.
"He's awake!" Neville screamed, seemingly on the verge of tears.
"Thank Merlin, took you long enough." Draco muttered, though he too sounded very much relieved.
Hasan removed his hand and peered about himself in curiosity. Surrounding his white infirmary bed stood Luna, Draco, Neville, Hermione, Tracey, and Daphne. They wore similar expressions of concern and relief, but in his mind's eye, he could only see the blood. The gushing sanguine liquid, the taste of burnt iron dry on his tongue and in his nose and-
"Quick! Get Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione yelled with widened eyes as someone conjured a basin, and he dumped his head and purged his body.
"So that's what it's used for!" Luna's voice floated brightly. Glancing up, Hasan found that it was her slender hands that grasped the sides of the black bowl. "Evanesco!" she said as he recovered, and the waste and its container vanished instantly. She handed him a glass of water and another basin for him to rinse his mouth, vanishing both of these soon after their use had run out.
"W-wow. Good thinking, Luna." Hermione said breathlessly.
"Yes, thank you." Hasan spoke, yet his voice came out scratched and dry, though he couldn't remember screaming.
His companions looked at each other warily and he frowned at their obvious secrecy. "What is it?" Hasan demanded, glaring heatedly at Draco. He wasn't certain of the entire story, but he knew that Draco had, in some way or another, lied about either the diary or the books. This was his chance to redeem himself and so help him if he wasn't ready to speak...
Draco's pale cheeks flushed a slightly as he nodded. "You, you were ah-" he scuffed his shoes and Daphne looked down at him expectantly. "-muttering in your sleep."
Neville gave a few quick, nervous nods, his hands a tangled mess in front of him.
"About what?" Hasan asked nonchalantly. Had they heard? Did they know? Did they know that he-? That he was-? That he had been-?
"Nothing really-"
"Oh, for Salazar's sake, Draco!" Daphne yelled, "Just tell the boy! Hasan, I'm not sure what your dream was about, but you just kept muttering 'the sixth, the sixth' over and over."
"Oh." Hasan said. He swallowed and looked up at Luna, calming himself as he gazed at her misty orbs. "It was actually a date that I was planning on having one of the meetings."
"Meetings?" Tracey piped up.
"Yes!" Luna interjected dreamily. "Hasan's going to teach us to cast the Patronus charm."
The Slytherin girls blinked in shock. "So is that why you went outside? To practice?" Daphne screeched. "You could have died! Or been kissed! Or both! Hasan, I swear if you don't kill yourself, I will!"
Hasan shrugged stoically.
"Don't you dare shrug like that, Hasan Castell!" Tracey snapped.
"W-would you like to come to a meeting next year?" Neville offered hastily from the side. "Hasan's not really in any shape to start training people now, but I'm sure we can manage with more of us later..."
"Oooh! Like a Defense Association?" Hermione echoed. "That sounds like fun!"
But while the rest of them were carried off by the prospect, Draco looked at Hasan oddly, shrewdly. In a way he would look at Ron or Lavender or Pansy when in the halls.
"The sixth what?" Draco asked bluntly. "You threw up! I want to know. You keep everything to yourself! I'm concerned about you!" His voice rose higher and higher, face screwing up heatedly as if fighting against it, "No, don't just sit there looking at me like that! You fucking went after dementors and I intend to know why!" His hands were clenched in fists at his sides and his silver eyes were razor sharp.
"Draco!" Tracey gasped, glancing about wildly for Madam Pomfrey to come shoo them out for disturbing her patients.
"No, Draco needs to blow off steam like steamed dumplings." Luna informed her with a sad smile. The tension loosened somewhat, and Hasan grabbed this moment to soothe the ruffled feathers.
"I...am sorry." Hasan sighed, looking at his hands which he innocently clasped. "I didn't mean to get into trouble with the dementors. They make me feel sick to my stomach, you saw on the train." Hasan pleaded. "And the sixth really was just a date. Can you make it? April 6th?"
Draco's face softened marginally. "Don't do something stupid like that again, Castell." He clapped the boy playfully on the back, but Hasan could see, out of the corner of his eye, a glint of suspicion, rightfully there, but troubling all the same.
"It's great," Hasan began, looking at each and every one of them in the eye, "to have friends like you." His jade eyes landed on Luna's silvery orbs and her face blanketed out into a porcelain mask. Feelings shut tight behind a bolted door. Hasan shut his eyes. "Merci."
.oOo.
Lupin made his way groggily from the bedroom to the kitchenette, dressed in a shaggy gray bathrobe. Sirius was waiting for him at the table, sitting bent, with his head tilted to the side and eyes staring tiredly into space. It had been about a month since the proposal, and the marriage was scheduled for the coming summer. But it was also a month since the dementors had attacked and nearly killed a student, and the creatures were only just being led away today.
Lupin sighed as he imagined how Sirius must be feeling: the tumult of emotions, the alleviation of nightmares; the dementors were finally gone and Sirius was finally and truly free. While Sirius remained at Grimmauld Place from time to time, his main residence was inside the castle. His ancestral home was simply too...morbid, not that his mother or Kreacher helped that at all. Dobby stopped by rather often, helping to maintain the semi-habitable conditions that Kreacher would thoughtlessly destroy. Sirius was rather fond of the little elf, even though he wasn't sure where exactly he came from. In fact, Sirius simply assumed that he had been hired sometime during his absence, which was a long one, from his family. It wasn't that far-fetched: The Blacks were rich and family stretched for miles. If the last lineage of some obscure part-Black died, then their house-elf would be sent to the Black heir, and Dobby was, after all, a Black-owned house-elf...
"Siri?" Remus ventured, voice hoarse from sleep. He edged around the table and leaned over Sirius' shoulder. "What are you thinking of?"
The curly haired man shrugged, hands curling on the table.
"D...dementors." Sirius murmured resignedly. He lifted his great head to stare up at his mate and nodded knowingly to himself. "Fear, in essence." A slight smile tugged at his lips, and Remus felt himself smile in response.
"I see."
Remus tapped the table with his wand, and two mugs of milky coffee appeared.
"Thanks." Sirius muttered, wrapping his fingers around the warm cup.
"You know, Dumbledore has wanted them gone since day one." Lupin began mildly, sliding smoothly into the chair beside his mate. "I suppose Hasan was a blessing in disguise. The Ministry had to listen-"
"Oh, how can you say that?" Sirius wailed. "He could have died! He only went outside to be alone and could have died!"
Lupin frowned into his drink as he took in the entire conversation. Sirius was obviously in need of some venting, but not about this, he was connecting the deaths of James and Lily to Hasan Castell. Without Peter, without dementors...but looking at Sirius now, he was clearly not in the mood to have a cathartic soul-healing session. Actually, Lupin was pretty sure he never was and never would be. Thus, he resolved to himself to entertain the current topic for Sirius' sake.
"Sirius, this is not your fault. The dementors were placed because of Peter, not you, and Hasan only went outside because-"
His amber eyes widened in sudden elucidation.
"Because-" Sirius echoed numbly when Lupin didn't elaborate. Sirius glanced to his side and was shocked to find an expression of astonishment and dawning realization. "What? What is it, Moony?" he asked excitedly.
"Who wouldn't know that the school was surrounded by soul sucking dementors? Isn't it a little suspicious that the one day everyone is too involved with er-" Lupin blushed brightly before plowing ahead,-"other things to pay attention to anything else, that Hasan decides to slip from the castle and take a pleasant little breather? Wouldn't he feel the effects as soon as he opened the door? And yet you saw him lying with his head against the door, and his hand inside the building?"
Sirius, a look of bewilderment but also of an inkling of comprehension painting his face, stuttered in response. "Y-yeah. But do you honestly think he was meeting someone?"
Lupin shook his head. "I'm not sure what to believe, but for him to be in that position suggests that he was standing up far enough away from the door, that he knew what he was doing and the risks. He also had passed out, so he might have been meeting someone? But then, wouldn't they have been outside as well? No, I don't think he was having a rendezvous."
"So...er, suicide?" Sirius asked. "That's the only explanation. Unless of course, we just accept that he was outside for a breath of fresh air..."
Lupin shrugged and took a long draught of his coffee. "He's a mystery. A boy who can talk to snakes- unheard of except for Salazar and You-Know-Who! And his boggart! Not to even mention the interest Severus has shown the child."
"Snape?" Sirius asked, "Well, no wonder he likes the kid! He's a Slytherin through and through. I talked to him one day in the trophy room- not sure what he was doing in there- but I told him a bit about James and quidditch."
Remus stared as if in a trance. "James? You talked to him about James?"
Sirius nodded, wetting his lips. "Yes, why?" Why was it that talking of James was bad? Hadn't Remus always told him that talking was one of the many paths to healing? Or perhaps he was just irritated because Hasan was a kid and tragedies shouldn't be dumped on kids...?
Remus shook his head. "Hasan's boggart. It was Harry."
"Harry Potter?" Sirius gaped. "W-what? How?"
"I don't know why." Lupin admitted wearily. "But it makes me wonder why the Potter's keep popping up around him. With Harry gone, you don't think he knows something, do you- ah..."
"What? What?" Sirius asked eagerly.
"Snape. That's why he's so curious. Ever since his first year, or at least what I've heard from Minerva, Snape's been keeping an eye on him."
"But that can't be right!" Sirius protested, smashing his mug to the table. "Hasan can't have anything to do with Harry's disappearance! Dumbledore would know, wouldn't he?"
Remus sighed. "Yeah...perhaps. Maybe his family just brainwashed him into believing ill of the Boy-Who-Lived, and he was just innocently looking at trophies, and innocently having a breather. Maybe Snape's just curious about Hasan like the rest of us."
The two looked at each other, and Lupin placed his hand over Sirius' under the table. Grief.
"I'm sorry. How can a schoolboy even be involved?" Lupin sighed. "I'm just trying to connect everything with Harry- 'where can we look next? Where is he?' And while Hasan's unusual, I don't believe he's a bad kid." He shook his head, "No, I'm just... I'm such a hypocrite, Padfoot; I'm having such a hard time moving on. Just because Hasan's different doesn't warrant suspicion..."
Sirius nodded slowly. "No, he doesn't. Well-" he glanced at the clock and back at Lupin, "-we better get ready. Dumbledore wants us to meet at Grimmauld Place at twelve."
"Did he say why?"
"Yeah, something about the Order of the Phoenix."
.oOo.
Grimmauld Place, ordinarily so dark and eerie, was now filled with a collection of the most unusual people. Dumbledore took the head of the room, wearing a shimmering purple robe and a matching hat. It was nearing the end of March, and the Ministry had only just pulled the necessary strings to rid the school of dementors. Fudge was less than happy about the entire situation, as he wanted to be seen protecting the school, and yet as the hero of the school children all the same- which would have been perfectly possible if not for the soul sapping creatures at the heart of it all.
Withdrawing the dementors was a sign of going back on his entire 'protect Hogwarts' promotion, but keeping them there was simply not an option! Imagine if Neville Longbottom was next? The uproar he would have to deal with! Albus Dumbledore had, of course, promised to try to keep the horror story under control, but hinted at how funny things could just slip out. In actuality, he had no intention of letting the story leak out either. For one, he was all very confused about the child known as Hasan Castell, and if investigations were made, Albus would rather the boy be very much away. For two, he wanted those vile things gone. Just thinking about the complaints Minerva would have about quidditch being cancelled for a second time was enough to give him a headache!
"Welcome! Welcome!" Albus called out loudly, silencing the talkative crowd at once. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice, and a special thank you for Remus and Sirius for letting us all into your home." The couple nodded in acknowledgement, and the headmaster continued. "I have called this meeting in the hopes of reviving the Order of the Phoenix."
At this, Molly Weasley's eyes went huge and she gaped at Dumbledore for all it was worth. Arthur, beside her, schooled his features as he tried to understand what it all meant. The Order hadn't been called since before Voldemort killed the Potters! And then, there had been no reason to keep it going... could it be? The Weasley's paled.
"B-but why, Albus?" Molly asked shakily. "Surely there's nothing for us to do!"
Albus smiled sadly and shook his head. "Alas, there is always more to do. More specifically, I have made a very grave mistake."
Augusta Longbottom, dressed in a moss green coat, gasped in supposed realization. "I knew it!" she screeched accusingly, pointing her finger at Dumbledore. "I knew Neville didn't have the magic in him!"
Minerva fidgeted uneasily beside the headmaster before looking challenging up at him. Albus, either oblivious or pretending to be, simply shook his head again. "The part of the prophecy as was published in the Daily Prophet is authentic. However, I have come to realize that it is absolute drivel that a boy, a child, should be under such a burden! How can we place all our hopes in a single person? It is absurd to even consider!"
"Albus, are you saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?" Kingsley asked bluntly.
"I am afraid it is so." Albus sighed to the utter horror and astonishment of the Order, "Though to be correct, Voldemort was never truly gone."
Severus cringed only slightly at the name, about to step out of the shadows at his cue.
"But Har- Neville killed him!" Sirius protested. "He can't be! There's no way that he can be!"
The chatter started up again, sweeping through the Auror department: Tonks, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye Moody, with a fury. Severus sighed as Albus sent him a pleading look. He decided it was time to step from the comfort of the corner.
"It is true." Severus attested quietly, though his words were heard everywhere. "He is back. Vvvoldemort is back." He rushed over the name, finding it disgusting as it rolled over his tongue. He had determined that if the Longbottom spawn could say it, then so could he- damn Dumbledore and his logic!
"But how can you be sure?" Mad-Eye asked shrewdly, clearly provoking the man. Snape's lip curled into a sneer and he shoved up his left sleeve to reveal the blackened Dark Mark.
"B-but Har- Neville!" Sirius protested weakly. He did not just get busted out of Azkaban to deal with an evil Dark Lord!
"Regrettably did not succeed in killing him." Snape finished dryly.
Augusta huffed and glared at Dumbledore. "So you're telling me that Neville was fated to kill that monster, and you were going to insist he do so ALONE?"
"The prophecy-" Albus muttered.
"I don't give a damn about the prophecy! Who really rid of the Dark Lord?" Augusta cried.
"Potter!" Minerva burst out. "Harry Potter banished the Dark Lord! Potter! And the boy-!"
"That is enough!" Albus snapped, cutting his deputy off with a glare. Minerva breathed heavily, the truth bursting within her. How could Dumbledore even hope to continue this?
"But the prophecy could refer to either one of them, isn't that right?" Lupin cut in mildly, having the air of innocence about him.
Augusta whipped around to scrutinize the werewolf before nodding curtly. "I see."
"See what? See what?" Molly asked, her forehead wrinkling.
"Both Neville and Harry could have been the prophecy's object." Arthur clarified lightly, "But Harry was the one to banish the Dark Lord, and Neville is expected to kill him. So together..."
"Oh! I understand." Molly said, the color coming back into her cheeks.
"But how do we know he's really back?" Tonks asked tentatively, "He didn't call you, did he?" she asked Snape.
Severus shook his head. "No. But the Dark Lord, despite his many followers, is more than capable of acting on his own. A schoolboy cannot hope to come close to defeating him."
"How do we know that the prophecy's not referring to Potter?" Arthur asked again. "He already vanquished the Dark Lord once, perhaps he has powers? We need to be sure."
Albus sighed. They kept looping about in circles, and yet, he had to let them speak. Otherwise, it was almost guaranteed that they wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.
"I wouldn't object to giving Neville more help." Augusta chimed in.
"Indeed not." Minerva said in approbation. "We need all the help we can get."
Severus began to slink back into the corner, unwilling to keep him and his arm on display for any longer than necessary.
"So where is he?" Moody demanded. "Can't you summon him back?"
Minerva seemed to glow in complacence and Severus rolled his eyes. Could the witch never let anything go? To their surprise, the headmaster actually stepped in.
"Which is one of the very few things I had wished to talk to you about. Harry Potter is gone."
...
"GONE?" Augusta screeched. "You mean that you lost him and replaced him with my son?"
"No! Not at all!" Albus said pleasantly, a bead of sweat on his ancient visage. "As stated, the prophecy could refer to Neville as well! But, er, yes we have lost Harry Potter."
Kingsley gaped horrified. "Does the Ministry-?"
"Yes- How else do you think it's been kept quiet for so long?" Severus asked icily. Kingsley glared back.
"They should have told the Auror department at least." Shacklebolt muttered.
Albus looked troubled. "I admit I have made a great many of mistakes, but right now, more than anything, we need to present a united front against Voldemort. He is back and I am not about to risk any child's life for the Greater Good." he promised resolutely.
.oOo.
March first brought about Ron's birthday, except for the fact that hardly anyone cared. Hermione, of course, had gotten him a book on Potions ingredients, hoping to spare him more of Snape's tirade, which only ended up making him more depressed. Lavender had brought him some sweets (made courtesy of the house-elves,) but that was only because she was his girlfriend.
Hasan found himself in his private dorm a lot, sitting down and just thinking. Draco was always holed in his room, doing goodness knows what, and Neville was always accompanied by the youngest Weasley. But it was good, Hasan supposed, because he needed the time to think. He was not feeling alone. He was NOT! What the hell was happening to him? The vision at the Hospital Wing, what was that? He had been a snake and he had killed someone. And why had it felt so good? And so uncontrollable? It was infuriating to be able to recall the incident with clarity, and yet have no idea how and why it came to be.
But obviously it had something to do with Voldemort. How could it not? It took place in the Riddle House, and Hasan was ready to wager that somehow, Tom Marvolo Riddle was involved with the deaths of his relatives. How he knew this was also a mystery- perhaps the snake's thoughts, Nagini, was it? Had become his own? Or perhaps he had known this all along and the vision had triggered it? But the point was, Tom Marvolo Riddle was Lord Voldemort, the diary was Lord Voldemort's (which was missing by the way), quite possibly the diadem in his trunk, and now the snake that had killed- that Hasan had been inside while it killed- also belonged to Lord Voldemort.
How? How could this be? Quirrellmort had fled the chamber of the stone as a wraith and had sometime after this, summoned rat Peter Pettigrew to his side. Which would indicate a need for assistance, quite understandable for being less than alive. But if Peter had not reached the Dark Lord, then who had helped him? Hasan would also guess that the evil wizard did not like being helpless...so it was only common sense to assume Nagini was his aid. And what was this about the sixth? If Nagini was his sixth, then who or what were the other five? Or rather three, since the diary and tiara were already accounted for. And what were they anyway?
It was too dangerous to research in Hogwarts- what if someone found out? What if he were investigated and Altair was found?- and it wasn't something he felt comfortable sharing with Neville or Luna, or even Altair. If he truly was Harry Potter, then there was bound to be some sort of connection beyond the physical scar. What if the vision was true and he had been inside Voldemort's mind? And how could it be, if he had clearly seen through the eyes of the snake?
Hasan gasped- possession. As strikingly obvious as it seemed now it was rather a tricky situation. Hasan inside Voldemort's mind, while he possessed some magical murdering snake. It was all rather unorthodox, and to be honest, Hasan was freaking out.
Who in Merlin's name could he tell? No one. That's right- because he was truly Harry-Bloody-Potter. And there was no way in hell he was going to be turned into the golden boy like Neville had. He could just imagine the lengths Dumbledore would take to keep him under his control! And once news of Altair got out, he would be done for! The old man would probably use Altair as a bargaining chip: his freedom or his protection for your cooperation.
Needless to say, Hasan was not going to volunteer.
Hasan sighed as he glanced at his calendar. Just a few more days and it would be the sixth. Just a few more days and he could see Luna, Neville, and Draco again, and perhaps pretend that nothing ever happened.
.oOo.
April sixth came soon enough, and Luna was absolutely glowing. She had been practicing for about a year now to get to know herself and envision herself as an animal. At first, she had supposed that a rabbit was good- white, fluffy, cute, small, and very agile. But then she thought about who she really was inside: a psychic trapped inside the body of a girl. A divine power viewed as a friendless lunatic. It didn't bother her most of the time, for she appreciated the privacy of being overlooked, but lately, she often found herself wishing for more regard.
Just because her peers didn't understand her, didn't mean that she was less than them. Sometimes she would contribute to a debate on Salamander blood or other, and the other Ravenclaws would simply brush her off and continue on with the debate. It was frustrating! What if, one day, she had a premonition that could save the world- what then? Would they shove her off as well?
It wasn't a hunger exactly, not like Ron who was constantly vying for attention, but it was certainly prominent. Wasn't that a human right? A given? People want recognition. Raw recognition. Not the flashy cameras and lights, like Neville. Not the whispers, tabloids, and reverence, but the simple "I am going to treat you like a human being," type of respect. And the more Luna was neglected, the more this desire burgeoned within her. It was one of the many reasons she sympathized with Hasan. She didn't know anything exactly, not really, but she knew enough to figure out that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was a parselmouth, a Slytherin, and in possession of the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. What more? What more did she sense but could not make sense of?
A bunny? Hardly. She was not merely curious, but inquisitive, not merely a lovely person, but a gifted soul wrapped in a girl's body. Bunny? Luna giggled. No. Something able, something smart, and something respected. In other words, her.
She passed by the blank wall for the third time, opening the door to the secret room just as the embellishments were beginning to form. The inside was large, a very spacey, but warm type of sitting area with a giant rectangular rug and a table. Chandeliers hung about the ceiling in no particular pattern, and the walls were painted a soft yellow. She waited a bit and Neville and Hasan came in presently, followed by a very tired looking Draco Malfoy.
"Hello." said Hasan with a slight wave. He had a small brown bag that he quickly revealed to be holding the last two vials. They were still fresh until the end of next year, so he had no qualms about feeding them to his friends.
"Hi, Hasan!" Luna beamed. "I'm so excited! What do you think you'll be, Neville?"
Neville shrugged, though he had an air of confidence around him that was not admittedly there before. Hasan inwardly frowned- it must have been Ginny to boost his ego- had the headmaster panned for this too?
"I'd rather not be wrong." Neville answered finally.
"Are you that scared of being wrong?" Hasan queried bluntly.
Neville turned to him and snorted. "Hardly. But I haven't an opinion either way. I just hope I'm powerful."
"Then perhaps you'll be a lion." Hasan quipped with a sneer so uncharacteristic of the apathetic boy.
Neville paled considerably, knowing that some line had been crossed. But what?
"I'm sorry." he said, but it came out challenging, not how he intended it at all. And yet, as it left his mouth, he thought 'try me.'
Draco glanced uneasily between them. "Gifts can't be taken back." he reminded Hasan lightly.
"Unless they were never given!" Luna chimed in happily.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Neville said again, sounding sincere this time. "Sometimes I just can't help myself." he blushed abashedly as Hasan looked on coolly. Had the golden boy finally learned to act? Or was he breaking Dumbledore's conditioning?
"You've done the work." Hasan said. "I can hardly decide whether you get the treat at the end, can I?" He tossed the vial to Neville and the other to Luna. "Drink up."
Neville sighed. This was not how he imagined things to go at all! Why was he even acting like this? Like he was so much better? He glanced at the vial and felt sick to his stomach. This was still Hasan, not a slimy Slytherin, but his friend from last year. The friend who truly had defeated Voldemort in the chamber with the stone.
"Hasan- I- I'm sorry, alright. I'm not sure why I'm...I can't do this." His shoulders sagged as he shook his head.
"I assure you there's nothing wrong with it. Professor Snape brewed it himself." Hasan said, watching as Neville's face went predictably white.
"You mean-?" Neville gaped. He didn't know what to think. Hadn't he, on some level, figured this out? Who else would brew something this complex? But then, he didn't feel right taking it if Professor Snape brewed it, but if it truly was a harmful substance? He just felt so terrible about his actions downed the potion in a single gulp, and Hasan stepped back satisfactorily. Nothing like a bit of redemption to get a person moving!
Neville felt the potion's effects immediately. Icy cold was seeping through his muscles and his skin, and he shivered involuntarily. Was this supposed to happen? He paled as his thoughts revved and his eyes searched out Hasan's through the peculiar white mist that surrounded him. Hasan simply stared back, noting to himself the color of the aura with mild curiosity. Suddenly, his shoulders rolled back, so impossibly far back as his entire body melted down. Neville hissed in agony as his bones began to shift and relock in place. Some birthday present...he thought as his hands fanned out. His face was becoming narrower, sharper, flatter, and his nose jutted out as if on a stilt. Just as suddenly, it all ended, and Neville took his hesitant first step.
"Aw! Neville's a bird!" Luna cried cheerfully. "Can you fly?"
Neville blinked once and looked from side to side. Wings. Brown, feathered wings. This was incredible! He thrust out his wings as far as they could go and attempted to flap them rather clumsily. Hasan hid a smirk behind his hand, but Draco was not so polite.
"Oh Merlin! Neville, you've got to learn how to fly!" Draco laughed loudly, imagining how it would look if Neville were making a getaway and couldn't get off the ground!
Neville squawked and transformed back with a glare.
"It's not funny." He pouted, but he was smiling all the same.
"You're a hawk to be more specific." Hasan informed them thoughtfully. "I'm sure flying won't be so difficult."
"Have you forgotten last year?" Neville laughed freely. "I nearly killed myself!"
"Perhaps it's a sign then." Hasan said cryptically. "Learn to fly."
Luna was nodding with vigor. "You can try out for quidditch next year!"
Draco rolled his eyes- as if anyone could hope to beat Slytherin! Not with Draco on the team, he thought smugly.
"Luna?" Hasan called. "Are you ready?"
The blonde haired girl smiled confidently. "Of course, silly. I've always been ready."
She uncorked the vial and drank the chilling liquid quickly, waiting in anticipation for the sensations to begin. Unlike Neville, she was hyper aware of the glowing aura and realized immediately when it went up. Hers was a soft golden light that dashed across the floor. How interesting! she thought before gasping in surprise.
Hasan watched Luna's transformation with the most interest, for of all of them, she was one he knew least about. Apparently she was a halfblood, but she also possessed such an unusually magical gift that is was unfair to place her anywhere. The golden pulsing receded back within her lithe form and then her ribs began to grow. Lengthening and lengthening until her entire body was entirely not her own. And yet, it was her own in every way.
"Wow." Neville said dumbly, awestruck as he gazed upon his friend.
"I'll say." Draco murmured appreciatively, for before them, stood the most lovely looking creature Hasan had ever seen.
"Arabian horse." Hasan said.
Luna seemed to dance in delight, shaking the floor as her new sharp hooves clacked against the solid floor. Yes, this felt right. Luna shook her mane and twisted around her long neck to glimpse herself. She had a velvety brown complexion with light caramel hair. But Hasan was struck by the eyes that were vats of molten silver. "Beautiful." Hasan breathed.
Luna shut her large silver eyes and transformed in an instant, stumbling before saying.
"A bit unpleasant, but I think it was worth it."
Draco laughed again and Neville smiled knowingly.
"I'm glad." Hasan said sweetly. "Though I wouldn't suggest bestowing your gratitude upon Snape. Besides that, let's all keep this a secret, shall we? Technically, it's illegal."
Suddenly, Draco and Neville were gaping.
"Why?" Luna asked innocently, her brow drawing up in confusion. "You didn't know?"
Draco shook his head. Oh, his dad was going to kill him if he found out! First begging for the dagger, and now, involving himself in illegal activities! On second thought, perhaps Lucius would be proud? Draco frowned; he sure wasn't going to risk the chance of being wrong.
Neville was in a similar state of shock. "M-my Gran would want me to be registered..."
"And pray, how would you explain the situation?" Hasan asked.
"He's the Boy-Who-Lived." Draco said with a shrug. "Even father concedes that the title has weight."
A title. Right...just a title... Neville shook his head. He was finally beginning to realize the effect of Ginny's constant presence and ego feeding, and he didn't like it at all. How could someone so nice be manipulating his train of thought?
"I've got to go to bed." Neville said suddenly. He needed time to think. To think long and hard about his place.
The three watched him go out the door, but Hasan noted with little concern that his shoulders were sagged, and head drooping.
"Thank you again, Hasan." Luna smiled. "Now I can hang out with the thestrals! Do you think I speak horse-ish?"
"I wouldn't know." Hasan asked softly, but with a light smile playing at his lips. For some reason, Luna was always able to bring the best out of him.
"I'll look into it! See you, Hasan, Draco!" She nodded to each and made a quick exit, leaving Hasan to wonder why. The question as soon answered however, for as soon as the door fell shut, Draco began to speak. And not in the nervous laughter tone of voice he had been using all meeting, but his normal one. His serious, Slytherin one. Hasan felt the shift immediately and turned his weary jade eyes to the Malfoy heir.
"Hasan, do you...really trust me?" Draco asked out of the blue. Hasan blinked twice. Trust? Trust him? Suddenly the boy needed him to be making declarations of faith?
"Why? Why are you asking?" Hasan returned, a bit annoyed. If anyone should be questioning loyalties, it was him!
"Well, why not? You never do talk about your parents." Draco accused with a pout. "And I practically let you into mine."
"Oh, I see." Hasan said in a bored tone. "You got curious didn't you?"
"I am curious." Draco corrected, and Hasan let it slide. There was no point bringing up the book or the diary now. He either had it or he didn't. Plus, Hasan wanted to see where this was going. "Hasan, can you at least tell me one thing? If you knew something, if you had a secret...you'd tell me right? You trust me more than say, Granger, right?" He was nearly pleading, and Hasan's face softened fractionally.
"But Draco," Hasan said tonelessly. "That would defeat the purpose of the secret."
"But you would, right?" asked Draco again.
Hasan frowned. "I'm positive I don't know what you mean."
"Oh." Draco's heart sunk. "I see." His face seemed to darken, and his head drooped so that he could stare at the clenched fists in his lap. "Yes, I see." With that, Draco strode to the door and yanked it open.
"Bye." Hasan called out apathetically, not really caring if the boy heard or not.
He did. There was no reply.