25

Chapter 25: Welcome Back

Present. 4pm July 30.

Hasan woke up again to Tina licking his face.

:Ugh! What is it, Tina?:

:It is nearly time to go!:

Hasan nearly fell out of bed, casting tempus with his wand as he did so.

:It's only four, Tina. Altair would have gotten me up in half an hour.:

Tina seemed to laugh. He scales turned bright blue as she hissed back,

:But what fun would that be?:

Hasan glared playfully before hopping back on the bed. He noticed that his head wasn't hurting so much.

:Hey, Tina. What happened last night?:

:Last night or this morning?: Tina asked.

Hasan thought she was being funny so he glared. In all actuality, Tina was being perfectly honest. Altair had never sent her away last night.

:Last night, preferably.:

Tina sighed and wrapped around Hasan's arms to rest against his neck.

:Nothing out of the ordinary. Why? Are you hurting?:

:Just a slight ache.:

Hasan shrugged and scooped her up. :I'm setting you down now.:

Tina huffed. :Obviously.:

While Tina was curling up on Hasan's pillow, Hasan himself was getting ready for the upcoming party. He combed back his hair, letting it fall to his waist before changing into a dark pair of muggle jeans and a grey shirt.

:Dapper!: Tina hissed with one eyelid opened.

Hasan grinned.

After a few minutes, Altair finally shouted up the stairs that he should probably think of getting up now. By that time, Hasan was all but ready and he sat on his bed, wondering absently what he should do with the diadem still in his trunk. He could hardly involve Altair. After everything the man had done to him? He could hardly trust him, even if he did care about him deep inside.

Well, there was telling Snape...perhaps. The less people who knew the better, Hasan thought. And besides, what would Snape make of his ability to sense the horcruxes? They'd lock him up for sure...Not that St. Mungo's wasn't a nice facility and all. It just seemed lonely.

"Hasan! It's almost time to go! Are you ready?" Altair shouted again.

"Yes. One minute." Hasan called down, as he grabbed the wrapped gift beside him. In all honesty, the person he most wanted to see was Luna. Perhaps because she was the only one who saw him. He was also curious to see Draco...the last vision he had was at the end of the school year and the Dark Lord seemed pissed enough at his parents to use the boy in some dangerous task. If Draco were given such a task, well, that was worrying in itself. The fact that Draco knew him more than most people, didn't exactly help either. With the right help, Draco would be able to string together key facts, such as Hasan's presence in the chamber with the stone, and Hasan's role in the chamber of secrets...Still, Draco wasn't an evil person. No one was, when you got into the philosophy of it. But really, what could Draco possibly do that Hasan couldn't handle?

He was, after all, only a contact...Friends? What did the word mean anyway? He tried to ignore the pull on his guilt when he thought of the dagger. The same dagger which had saved his life. Surely that was worth something? Hasan sighed and descended the stairs.

"Alright. I'm ready." Hasan announced as he entered the salon.

Altair was standing with a large smile on his face.

"Have a nice time, Hasan. I mean it, and then we'll celebrate your birthday tomorrow."

With that, the portkey (an old shoe) was thrust into his hands. Within a dizzying few seconds, Hasan had landed right into the middle of a wheat field. Whoosh! A broom passed overhead, accompanied by screams and laughter.

"Hey, it's Hasan!" Fred yelled, diving back for the boy. Hasan barely had time to run out of the way when Fred had grabbed him under his arms and flew him rapidly towards a rather lopsided house.

As they neared, Hasan could make out the bemused faces of George, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Daphne. Still in the field were Ron, Tracey and Lavender. It was amazing how a little sport was able to knock the house prejudices from Ron's mind. He wasn't a bad person really, just, a little thick sometimes.

"Hey, Hasan, how are you?" Neville asked warmly as Hasan stumbled to the ground none too gracefully.

"Good as ever, I suppose." Hasan murmured quietly, thinking back to his headache that morning.

"Oh, I've missed you!" Daphne shouted and nearly threw herself at him, wrapping the stiff boy in a hug. "It's been such a long summer!"

Neville, beside her, looked away back onto the field as the four flew about.

"Hey Hasan." Neville greeted. "How has your summer been so far?"

"Relatively uneventful." Hasan sighed. "And you?"

"Still getting over the events of last year." Neville frowned. "Gran can't stop mentioning it."

"Well of course not!" Hermione screamed. "You saved the school from a basilisk! A breed of snake that was thought to be extinct!"

"Technically anyone can breed one though..." Daphne muttered, causing Neville's lips to quirk up in a smile.

"I, for one, don't blame Mrs. Longbottom! Neville, you were a hero!" Ginny crooned. "Draco and Hasan really owe you their lives."

"I have no doubt they'd save me if our situations were reversed," Neville said confidently.

Oh, if only you knew, Hasan thought. He shook his head at the irony, turning his attention back onto the field. Let him believe, it makes no difference.

Suddenly, a shape materialized above the field before coming barreling down with a shout.

"Hey! It's Malfoy!" Daphne shouted.

"Whoa there! Where's that Malfoy grace?" Tracey laughed loudly, diving for the blond on her broom. Like Fred had done, Tracey grasped Draco beneath his arms, flying the boy towards the house.

"Tracey!" Draco groaned. Why couldn't Longbottom have set the portkey to a normal location? Why fifty feet above some godforsaken wheat field?

"Draco!" Daphne called with mock sweetness. "Hang on! You're doing so well!"

Draco huffed and rolled his eyes as Tracey landed beside the group. Her strawberry blonde hair was in windswept tangles down her back.

"That's enough flying for me today!" Tracey grinned.

"Tell me about it!" Draco moaned. He wasn't in the best of moods today, particularly because it was the first time he was to meet Hasan after...after the events of the summer.

Hasan knew this and narrowed his eyes. Just because he was determined not to lose Draco as a 'friend' didn't mean he wasn't taking precautions. He still didn't know what exactly the Malfoy heir was told to do, only that anything coming from the Dark Lord probably wasn't good for everyone involved...

Hasan listened as Draco greeted everyone in a lifeless voice. When he finally came to Hasan, his silver eyes were clouded and unsure.

"Hello Draco." Hasan said in a voice that betrayed nothing.

"Hello Hasan."

The two boys were silent for a moment, unable to do much else than stare at the other. Draco looked like he hadn't slept in ages, well, more like felt like. To anyone who didn't know Draco, he looked like an average healthy boy. He had good skin, healthy hair, a relatively composed demeanor. But Hasan knew him better than that. Draco was nervous, tired, had a halfhearted smile, and a shrug for every other word.

"About last year, Hasan, I'm really sorry." he finally mumbled.

Hasan's eyebrows rose in surprise. "But it was all Neville."

"But you were involved, and I'm sorry."

Hasan checked his peripheral vision and was pleased to see that no one was paying them any attention. "You're forgiven."

But inside, Hasan was thinking it had just begun.

After some time, Ron, Lavender, and Fred touched ground looking thoroughly flushed.

"So is everyone here?" Ron asked, out of breath.

"Luna!" Fred said.

"And Theo!" George added.

"But I want to go inside!" Ginny whined.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Well, we can't let them plummet to the ground!"

"Who made the portkeys anyway?" Hermione wondered.

"Don't—"

"—Look at us!" The twins grinned.

Tracey sighed. "Then I suppose we should stay out here."

"How about we have ourselves a game of quidditch?" George asked, "Five on five and one referee?"

"I'll sit out." Hermione offered. "I've never flown before."

"Alright then!" George grinned. "Thanks, Hermione. So Ron, Lavender, Draco, Fred, and Tracey on one team, against Hasan, Daphne, Neville, Ginny and me!'

"Accio quidditch supplies!" Fred yelled, causing ten brooms, a few clubs, and many multicolored balls to speed towards them.

"Alright, rules!" George announced. "There aren't enough of us to have specific parts, but one goal post will be the fence, and the other will be the shed. If anyone catches the snitch, that team wins. All the quaffles will be twenty points each, okay?"

"Yeah, good idea, oh brother of mine!" Fred whistled.

"Ooh, this'll be fun!" Tracey grinned.

Within seconds, the entire group was in the air, shouting, laughing, and generally trying to knock each other to the ground. Hasan wasn't particularly involved. As a matter of fact, neither was Draco. The blonde seemed to be contemplating something while Hasan just didn't feel like zooming around. While Hasan was pretty much cooped up over the summer, it didn't mean he felt like having the wind tangle his hair. It was so irritating and felt disgusting...and because no one understood he would have to endure the horrors of tangles hair himself, or risk being though crazy. So it was that neither boy was particularly interested when the snitch flew between them.

"Hey, look!" Hermione called from below. "Draco and Hasan have spotted the snitch!"

In that one instant, both boys locked eyes over the fluttering ball, and dove! It was wild, unlike anything Hasan had ever felt before. He flattened himself to the cleansweep 7 as Draco did the same with his battered broom. What was the point of this, Hasan wondered, in this game where nothing came of it? Why was it so essential that he reach the snitch before Malfoy? That he win, that he conquer, that he surpass? All he knew was that Draco wasn't coming anywhere near his snitch!

The two chased after the ball, flying in loop-de-loops, dives, and high speed chases. Draco had never played a more intense game in his life. Because it wasn't really the snitch they were after. The exhilaration came from knowing that they both wanted the same thing at the same time and it was impossible. The mutual feelings of knowing exactly how the other felt. That in one moment, there was an unspoken connection brought about by a game.

And that was when Hasan saw something else. He abruptly stopped his broom, glimpsing the apparition for a second before- BAM! Draco sped right into him to the horror of everyone watching.

"Draco!"

"Hasan!"

Hasan was knocked to the left as Draco ricocheted to the right.

"Watch out!" Daphne screamed.

The world seemed to spin in slow motion as Hasan pulled out of the hit. But he couldn't shake the image from his mind.

Everyone came flying over to the pair, wanting to make sure everything was okay. Draco was only rubbing at his arms, telling them that he was fine and that he could handle much more than that.

Hasan simply stared at the patch of land near the forest.

"Hasan, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Neville exclaimed.

"Hasan...?" Fred asked with concern.

"I saw a horse." Hasan informed them lightly.

"We don't have any horses here..." Ginny frowned. "Are you sure?"

The group scanned the field below, frowning as their doubt grew. Was Hasan seeing things? Was someone bewitching him? Was it simply a mistake? Was he lying?

"Hasan, I don't think—" Tracey began quietly.

"Wait, I see it too!" Neville shouted.

"What—?"

"Where, Neville?"

"Huh?" Draco wondered slowly.

"It's dark, well, it's hard to see." Neville told them lamely.

"How come we can't see it?" Lavender demanded.

"Maybe it's a thestral?" Daphne suggested.

"What's a thestral?" Ron asked.

"Only people who have seen death can see it." Tracey said quietly with a shiver. "How about we go inside now? Isn't there a way we can redirect the portkey to the floo network? "

Neville nodded. "Yes, let's go."

As they dismounted their brooms, Hermione wrapped Draco and Hasan in a large hug. "I can't believe you two! Chasing after some silly ball! You nearly killed each other!"

"Don't be so melodramatic, Hermione!" Lavender sneered. "You wouldn't understand, it's a game for the strong."

"Was that supposed to be clever?" Hermione hissed. "From the way you were avoiding everything up there I'd say you're the weak one."

"Now, now!" Fred cooed. "We can fight later. Right now, Neville needs some chocolate. He saw a thestral!"

"I thought chocolate was for dementors," Hermione told him shrewdly.

Fred shrugged. "Any excuse for chocolate we'll take."

With that, the group went inside, wondering what was going on.

.oOo.

"Tell me what happened again." Hermione demanded as they settled around the Weasley kitchen table.

"Well, Neville saw a thestral." Daphne said calmly.

"No he didn't!" Ginny shouted. "My Neville hasn't been tainted!"

"You didn't see Death, have you Neville?" Ron asked somewhat concernedly.

"No! NO! I refuse to believe it! Only the wicked have seen thestrals!"

"Ginny, be reasonable!" George shouted.

"But he couldn't have—!"

"I DID!" Neville screamed. "I do! I'm not saying it was a thestral, I'm just saying it was a horse! But do you really think that way, Ginny? Do you think I'm somehow evil? I saw my grandfather die, Ginny. I didn't ask for that!"

The air reverberated with tension.

"I think Ginny is under a small misconception." Daphne said quietly. "Neville didn't murder anyone, he just witnessed death. That's all."

Neville shot her a grateful smile, but his heart was heavy. It was only a misunderstanding, but how many misunderstanding did it take for it to mean that she didn't understand him at all?

"Hey, didn't Hasan see it first?" Fred pointed out.

"I didn't see anyone die." Hasan lied evenly. "It was just a horse."

"But we don't have any..." Ron protested again.

"Then perhaps I simply can't remember." Hasan said pointedly, "Excuse me. I think I left something outside."

His mind was working rapidly as he neared the door: It made sense, even if the motivation was hidden. Well, he supposed he could just ask her about it later...

He opened the door, took a step outside, and shut it carefully behind him without glancing up once.

"Hello Luna."

Hasan looked up into her large silver eyes. In return, the horse snorted at him, shaking her caramel mane. In the blink of an eye, the horse transformed into the girl he knew as Luna Lovegood. She wore her traditional black clothing, with a thick black headband in her blonde hair.

"Hello Hasan!" she grinned wrapping him in a hug. "Isn't it great? Daddy let me transform all summer! He thinks I have a great potential to be a unicorn ambassador!"

Hasan couldn't help but smile at that.

"They all think I've seen a thestral." Hasan informed her with a grin. "Neville as well."

"Well, I'm not going to enlighten them!" Luna laughed. "It's not my fault they couldn't see me!"

"I quite agree." Hasan murmured. He opened the door to the Burrow, letting Luna step inside first. "They're in the kitchen—" He broke off suddenly as a plump, red-haired lady came down the steps. She had a soft, kind face, with slightly thinning hair, and she looked familiar. Hasan tensed, ready to pull Luna aside when he felt Luna grab his hand behind him. Just at that moment, the older woman glanced up and caught them. For a second her face dropped.

From the kitchen, Hermione could be heard saying "Wonder what's keeping them..." before Neville, Ginny, Ron, Daphne, and Draco came into the hall to explore. They found Hasan and Luna holding hands, frozen as they stared up at Mrs. Weasley.

"Hey, what's going on?" Daphne wondered curiously.

"I—I know you!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "You were that boy I met in London two years ago!"

"Mum, that's just Hasan!" Ginny said exasperatedly, causing the Weasley matriarch to clap her hands over her mouth.

"So you're the one who keeps going on all those adventures!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Ron kept mentioning a certain long-haired young man who hung out with the Gryffindors."

"Mum, I think you have it all wrong!" Ginny whined. "Neville's the one who saved the school twice!"

But Molly ignored her, continuing down the stairs with a warm smile on her face. "Nonsense, I'm sure Neville had to have help sometime. And to think! I knew him before!" At this, Neville flushed deeply knowing he was guilty of not giving Hasan enough credit in those escapades. "You can call me Mrs. Weasley, Hasan. How do you do?"

Hasan smiled, gasping her hand in a firm handshake. "Well, thank you. And I thank you again for helping me that day."

"I hope you found your parents soon after that. Getting lost in London is a horrible experience." Molly sighed.

Draco perked up at that. Parents? His silver eyes narrowed, wondering why Mrs. Weasley was under such a misconception.

Hasan shifted slightly, imperceptible to all except for Luna and Draco. They didn't know though that back then, he didn't have any parents. He was little more than an orphan then, and little more than a dreamer. And now? It seemed he had made a complete 360. Could Altair still be considered a parent after everything he had done?

"Wow, Hasan! So you knew Mrs. Weasley even before you knew her!" Luna sighed happily. "What a fortuitous circumstance!"

It seemed that this was the first real moment that Molly realized that there were more people in the room. The first time she spotted Draco, hovering just beside Neville, her eyes narrowed slightly, reminded of his father. How could she know not trust them? How could she know they weren't just spies? The obvious answer was that she couldn't. And this put her on edge, as any mother would be when her young is threatened.

"Hey, mum, so when's dinner?" Ron asked bluntly, rubbing at his stomach in a definitely unrefined manner. "I'm starving!"

Molly snapped out of her reverie, and focused on her son. "Just give me a minute..." she muttered quietly, sweeping past them and into the kitchen. "It shouldn't be long. How about you kids play Exploding Snap in the living room?"

"Oooh! I love that game!" Ginny cried immediately, "Let's go!"

But Hasan had noticed the way Mrs. Weasley made her exit, had noticed the way she seemed to hold Draco in suspicion. But how could Mrs. Weasley, an adult, know about Voldemort's plans? Or perhaps, like Luna had said, it could all just be: fortuitous.

At Ginny's exclamation, the group gathered the remainders in the kitchen and headed out for the living room. The living room, like the rest of the house, was shabbily furnished with mismatched chairs and couches. But just like the rest of the house, everything just seemed to fit. It was cozy and sweet, and much friendlier than Grimmauld Place, if Grimmauld Place was even considered a candidate for homeliness.

Draco sat beside Daphne, who sat beside Neville, then Ginny, Tracey, Hermione, Fred, George, Ron, Lavender, Luna, and Hasan. Sometime during the game, Daphne nudged a bit closer to the blonde and whispered, "You're quieter than usual."

Draco shrugged, but Hasan had noticed it too. Draco was quieter; he was watching.

"I have a lot on my mind is all," Draco muttered.

"Well forget about that! Just for now, we're trying to play a game here and you're acting like a zombie!"

Draco shrugged. "I'm just tired." He glanced up to see if anyone had been listening, and quickly looked down once he accidently locked eyes with Luna. It was eerie, as if that girl could see into his soul, and yet, what could she know? She was too light, too good, too innocent. What did she know? For now, at least, Draco felt that his secret was safe.

Dinner came swiftly after that, and then cake, and then presents. The day was rapidly coming to a close, and birthdays didn't seem as sparkly as they once did...it felt, heavy. Theo arrived right before dinner, apologizing profusely for losing track of time. He had been out practicing his spells for next year and wasn't paying attention. This lifted the spirit of the party for a while, but even Theo was no match for the combined woes of the group. Hasan was thoughtful. Molly kept her eye on Draco. Ginny kept her eye on Neville, who felt a little odd ever since her thestral comment. Draco remained silent; Daphne worried for him. In the thick of it all, Tracey and Luna smiled at each other and shrugged, while Fred and George never hesitated to crack a joke to revive the atmosphere.

.oOo.

Right before they all left, however, Luna stood up on the chair and tapped her glass with her spoon. The ringing left everyone staring at her curiously.

"I have one more gift!" Luna announced. "It's for you, Hasan." Luna said sweetly, as if this explained everything.

Neville looked on puzzled, as did everybody else.

"You were born on the same day?" Neville asked him.

"No. I was born a day later." Hasan said seriously.

"I can't believe we never knew!" Hermione cried. "Last year when we were celebrating...why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, it's not my birthday until tomorrow..." Hasan said, puzzled. Why was everyone so stunned? It wasn't his birthday, so why would he even mention it? It would be like waking up one day and telling them, Hello! I was born on such and such a day! At best, they would wish you an early birthday. At worst, they would think you were inane. So why bother? He just didn't get it.

Luna held out a small, green box to him, with a little silver bow taped to the top.

"Happy early birthday, Hasan!"

The small group of friends echoed the sentiment, strangely excited to see what one bizarre girl would get for one mysterious guy. Hasan took it gingerly, removed the lid, and gasped. Inside was a book, an old yellowing tomb that oozed with magic. The title was inlaid with silver: Mind Magick.

He reached in to pick it up, when his hands came across something smooth, something solid, something unreal. He glanced up at Luna and raised an eyebrow in question.

"It's a book, silly!" Luna beamed with her trademark dreamy smile.

Hasan nodded, but prodded the thing again. It was...cloth like, smooth, silvery. With grace, he maneuvered the book out from beneath it, but nearly fell over in his seat when his hand disappeared beneath it. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

Somehow, Luna had gotten Neville's invisibility cloak and given it to him with no one the wiser...but why? And how? And—?

"I hope you enjoy reading it! Unlike a library book, it never needs to be returned because you're the real owner. I hope you understand that." Luna informed him dreamily.

And miraculously, Hasan did understand: the cloak belonged to him...which begged the question: how did Neville get the cloak anyway?

.oOo.

Neville Longbottom sat in a lumpy feather bed in the guestroom of the Burrow. They would return to Grimmauld place in a day (since the Weasley home was obviously a high priority for the Death Eaters to hit), but for now, they would remain. His stomach was happily full, coupled with the fact that Ron was snoring rhythmically beside him, and Neville was well on his way to falling asleep.

He wasn't exactly sure why he felt so...disappointed, though. Maybe it was because he knew he saw a horse today and no one believed him...well except for Hasan, and he didn't pay much attention to him. He did care about the awkward boy, but all he could think about was Ginny. Ginny, the girl who gave him her heart, the girl who promised to see him without the Boy-Who-Lived image on top of him, the girl who...Who condemned him. She accused him without knowledge, without even attempting to understand past her narrow concept of thestrals. Neville turned over in the lumpy bed, smacking his head into the pillow with a huff. Girls, why did they have to be so complicated anyway?

If he were honest with himself, something else was bothering him too...but he didn't fully comprehend it. Then again, it didn't need to make sense—feelings weren't always logical. Still, it was silly. It was just...why was Luna giving Hasan presents on Neville's birthday? It wasn't that he disliked any of them, and well, he wasn't exactly an attention hog, but...it just didn't seem right to him. Why did Hasan get something on his day? And when was Hasan's birthday the day after his anyway? No one told him anything! But he still wasn't sure why this should make him nervous.

He rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling fan, whirling around and around, swirling the warm summer air in a broth. He was nearly asleep before the most peculiar idea struck him:

As the seventh month dies...

.oOo.

September 1st

Draco Malfoy was prepared when he stepped on the Hogwarts Express. His mother and father had sent him off to this third year of school with a smile, but he knew that beneath their sunny gazes, they were really saying: "Don't screw up." The Dark Lord was counting on him, and failure, as he had told him, was not an option. So, as it was, a slightly stressed Draco Malfoy made his way into a lone compartment.

Hasan was an acquaintance, that was all. Not a friend, certainly not a best friend. The boy was odd, sure, but...he was sorted into Slytherin for a reason. And therefore, perhaps Hasan wasn't who he said he was. Maybe, Hasan was playing him.

Well, Draco thought, two can play this game.

And yet, he stayed put.

Hermione, Theo, Luna, and Hasan sat in one compartment, while Fred, George, Daphne, Ginny, Ron, and Neville sat in the other. As far as he knew, Tracey had walked in with Millicent Bullstrode and had found a seat with Pansy Parkinson. Draco glared out the window, unhappy, and, kind of scared. He was a danger to these people. He couldn't go and see them. But they weren't his friends!

Draco continued to brood the rest of the train ride...

.oOo.

Meanwhile, Hasan was busy looking through his Mind Magick book. He had read it through already, but he couldn't comprehend half of what was inside. It was complicated. This was his second read. Theo tilted his head over to Hasan, as if to question, "What's up with him?" and Hermione blushed and grinned that Hasan was just being Hasan. Luna, however, didn't seem to mind in the least. She was busy reading herself. The Quibbler, after all, was a quality paper, especially when tilted 180 degrees...

"Hey, did you know there are thestrals at Hogwarts?" Luna queried presently, without removing the Quibbler from in front of her face.

"Ooh! I've read about them!" Hermione squealed, happy to have something to talk about.

"Yeah, but I've never seen one." Theo murmured.

"Well, have you seen someone die?" Hasan asked blandly.

"Er...no." Theo flushed, "But that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'd be happy if I could go my whole life without seeing a single one."

"Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it?" Hasan asked pointedly.

"But then you'd never see how beautiful they are!" Luna cried.

"Beauti—" Theo started, just as Hermione nearly shouted: "You can see them?"

"Yup!" Luna smiled, "My mother died when I was nine. She was quite extraordinary!"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, quite confused as to why Luna was happy about this fact.

"Er..." Hermione began. "I don't mean to be rude but why are you smiling? I'd be devastated if my mother died!"

Wait, Luna was smiling? Hasan put his book down, and turned abruptly to face her. But he saw something else which Hermione didn't see. Respect. Luna was smiling, but her eyes were blazing. Her silver eyes were bright, but tinged with sadness and a lot of pride.

"You can only mourn the dead for so long." Luna explained thoughtfully, "But I think she would want me to think of her as the woman she was, not for the mistake she made. She was a remarkably strong woman. I'm proud she was my mother."

The air was still, silent. Hermione nodded slowly, shivering involuntarily. Something like understanding passed between Hasan and Luna's eyes, and it was palpable to see that Theo and Hermione were holding her in higher regard. Yes, on the outside she was a little unconventional, but she was just as sane as anybody else.

She had depth. For the first time, they got to see that. For Hasan, he fell a little more in love. So naturally, instead of hugging her in comfort, he raised the book back up to his eyes, and remained silent all the way to Hogwarts.

Ah! Young love!

.oOo.

Albus Dumbledore sat at the head table as always, waiting for his lemon drop to melt so that he could "dig in" to the welcome feast. Everything was going as planned: The 1st years arrived with Minerva leading the way, since Hagrid was temporarily...absent, Moody was settled beside Lupin (who was to be Hagrid's stand-in), and Snape was...being Snape.

He happily folded his hands as he watched the students stream into the hall. He spied Neville Longbottom first, looking extremely proud with the youngest Weasley on his arm. Then he turned his eye towards the Malfoy offspring. He'd be keeping a close eye on them both this year—for the greater good of course. He couldn't afford to have Neville stray from the path he so carefully designed, nor could he accept Lucius' full confession without at least examining the son.

Everything was going fine until a point. And that was when the Sorting Hat began its song:

Many of you take many forms

in hair, in skin, in eyes.

I, for one, appear a tad too drab,

even I realize!

But by the end, I alone

will know of your disguise.

Let's begin by talking of

the great founders four.

Intelligent, beyond a wit,

but I know even more.

Fair Ravenclaw would pick the best,

most cunning and most clever.

But even she would overlook

those bright inside, however.

And Hufflepuff, the sweetest dear,

would not pry past a mumbled "fine"

Respecting privacy and ignorance,

walks an uneasy line.

Third of all is Gryffindor,

who values strength and heart,

but even he, like all the rest,

would let them "act the part"

It seems that only Slytherin

would see the truth within,

hiding in the darkness,

he is the shadow's kin.

So put me on, don't be afraid!

Your lips are sealed, and mine are frayed!

I'll say the house, but I'll be swayed,

and in the end after the trade—

Never will you be betrayed.

Perhaps the only thing that could be said was that Albus Dumbledore was gobsmacked. Disguises? Preposterous! And what was this about Godric not being fully aware of his house? But one thing in particular niggled the back of his mind: what did this hat know that he didn't? He never considered it before, but every single student had let the hat on their heads, had let them in...Perhaps...Perhaps...the hat was due for a talk.

.oOo.

After dessert, Albus rose to give his welcome speech. The entire hall fell silent, and thousands of curious faces glanced up at him, wondering what he was to do next.

"A very warm welcome to all new and returning students! This year, as you may have noticed, we have a few changes on staff. Allow me to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Auror Moody!" There was a polite smattering of applause from the crowd, as the gruff man stood up, but the Gryffindor table fairly erupted. Most magical families knew Moody as the most dangerous auror alive, however, his often harsh tactics left many people somewhere between respect and fear. While it was clear where the Gryffindors stood, many just didn't know how they felt. Granted, many of those were muggleborn. Moody's electric blue eyes whizzed in its socket, causing more than one person to shudder inside. Even in the magical world, one could say it was damn creepy.

Albus let the crowd die down before gesturing for the next teacher to stand. "Many of you know Professor Lupin as your Defense professor, however, this year he will serve as the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Hagrid, as you might have noticed, is not with us today, nor for the rest of the year due to several family complications. But I'm sure you will enjoy the course just as much with Professor Lupin's unique perspective! Thank you. And now, all's left is to sing the Hogwarts song!"

.oOo.

It was quiet in the headmaster's office. Fawkes was sleeping on his perch, looking a bit old in his gray tinged feathers, when Dumbledore himself came striding in, in eccentric purple robes. It was for the best, he tried to convince himself. It was property of Hogwarts! He was headmaster of Hogwarts! Surely in all of the school's existence, he could not be the first to...lower himself to interrogate a hat.

Minerva would bring it in any moment, he knew, so he contented himself with another lemon drop and twiddling his thumbs. But when Minerva didn't appear for another few minutes, his mind wandered into...undesirable territory.

The horcruxes...if he was going to pull this off: the entire Prophecy mission, then the chances that Voldemort would be there would be...But to kill him, Albus would need the horcruxes in his possession and destroyed. And yet, where were they all?

The ring? Disappeared. The diary? Collecting dust on his top shelf. The cup of Hufflepuff? He guessed that this, along with the locket of Slytherin were locked in some Gringrott's vault. But this was all speculation. From the memories, he could only conclude that there were seven. But what about the others? Something from Ravenclaw? Perhaps the diadem that mysteriously went missing during Riddle's year? And that snake, Nagini, that Lucius had spoken of...it all seemed to fit, a bit, if loosely.

And what did he have to show for it? Nothing. The ring, taken. The diary, destroyed. The cup, missing. The locket, missing. The snake, protected. The diadem, missing. And still there was one more...It almost seemed too elusive, too perfectly out of his grasp, as if someone anticipated this. As if someone knew about the horcruxes and was hunting them down as well, but...no! That was ludicrous!

The door creaked open, a presence hung in the doorway.

"Just set it on the desk, Minerva." he told her quietly.

"..."

Dumbledore turned around, staring into two black eyes.

"Severus? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's starting."

Albus froze.

"What do you mean it's starting?"

"The Resurrection."

"He—but it's so soon!" Albus muttered to himself.

"Indeed, but the stores of Unicorn blood were wearing thin. Rudimentary isn't to be taken forever."

"Speaking of which, Severus? Could you ask our new friends the Malfoys for a small favour?"

Snape was instantly on high alert. "Of what nature?"

"I need access to the Black family vaults."

"The extended family?"

"Yes. I believe the locket of Slytherin and the cup of Hufflepuff remain in one of them."

Snape digested this slowly, then nodded. So Dumbledore was still after the Horcruxes, was he?

"Why not ask the mutt?" Severus queried. "The goblins are a neutral party. I doubt they'll tell..."

"I believe that Voldemort would have stationed a few spies around the bank. I'd rather use Sirius as a last resort, while the Malfoys would not arouse any suspicion on the surface."

Didn't Dumbledore know that everyone was suspected in the Dark Lord's eyes? Unless...wait, of course it was. It was all a test. He was testing them.

"Very well, I shall ask."

"Thank you Severus. And...if you could brew me a Memory Potion?"

Snape's eyes darkened.

"Of course." The Potions Master left as silently as he came, with a heavier heart and a tired mind.

Meanwhile, Albus sat in front of the hat, examining the contours of its folds, the stitching, the threads, though frayed, never untangled. Should he put it on? Or...would that be too elementary? Then again, it was a hat. Who was going to laugh? Right—he flicked his wand and all at once the portraits of the former headmasters and headmistresses were curtained. Just before the sound barrier formed, however, he could hear their groans of having missed a good show.

He plopped the Sorting hat on his head, reminiscent of his sorting as a child, when a most peculiar thing hit him on his skull. He took off the hat, gently, lifting his hands to grasp the fallen object.

It was a vial.

"What?"

It had no animals on it, no indication that it came from the founders at all. But, he was the headmaster! He was the only one with access and power to manipulate the hat! Upon closer inspection, his old eyes could just barely see an odd wispy substance inside. Something like silver, something like air. His fingers turned it over in his aged hands, wondering, wondering...he felt a bump, some ridges!

He squinted, bringing the glass vial close to his weathered face. On the side there was inscribed:

"Am I half full or half empty?"

What was that supposed to mean? That silly muggle saying, appearing on perhaps one of the most remarkable magical artifacts? Was it a riddle? A trick? Or was someone mocking him? He continued to turn the little glass vial around to read the next words. A magic vial, indeed!

"I hold a solution" and turning it further: "You will know what to do with it." And finally: "Forgive me."

Albus was left dumbfounded, turning this little glass trinket in his hands, wondering what on earth was going on. The next few minutes, he tried every spell he knew. He tried charms, curses, light magic, and a bit of dark...finally, he just gave up and decided to put it in his drawer for safekeeping. He was going to resume his interrogation of the hat, when the hat itself began to speak.

"Ah, always were a Slytherin, weren't you, Albus? You prey upon a hat that can't defend itself when no can see or hear."

"You put me in Gryffindor." Albus protested, caught off guard.

"Yes, because that was what you wanted. I cannot give you what you want now, however. I belong to Hogwarts, not to you."

"But this concerns the entire fate of the Wizarding world! I need to know! Were there any indication of Tom Riddle's fate from his childhood? Are there any threats this year to the students? Should I watch a certain family?"

"STOP IT." For once, the Sorting hat screamed. "Headmaster, there is nothing I can or will ever be able to tell you."

"I see."

Stony faced, Dumbedore set the hat back on top of his shelf to sleep until the next year. He wasn't a bitter person. He was just tired. A little weary. A little suspicious. He had a responsibility to shield the world from Lord Voldemort, and time was running out for him. Perhaps he would call Neville up some days and teach him everything he would need to know. Yes, that would work. At least then, the world would be in capable hands.

.oOo.

Severus was fuming. Brew this! Brew that! Salazar! He was just a simple person! Couldn't Dumbledore just admit his old age and buy anonymously from the pharmacy in Hogsmeade? Couldn't Voldemort kidnap some potion maker in America and have them help in his regeneration?

To put it lightly, Snape was in a pretty foul mood. But most of all, he was upset because he would now have to write to Altair, report to him like some dog, reporting to a third master, asking if it is okay to give Albus a memory potion, if it won't interfere with the plans Altair had laid out...and then if it wasn't? He would have to fake it, of course, and then what? Be suspected of treason? Get carted off to Azkaban, no thank you! And to bother the Malfoys about the vault? Albus just didn't know about timing. The Malfoys were newly inducted! To do this so soon, was like asking them to be a suicide bomber on their first and last mission. If Voldemort learned...well, that was the end of them, the end of Draco too.

Severus summoned a piece of parchment and a quill before furiously writing down his thoughts.

"A.

The headmaster has asked me to brew him a memory potion.—"

And this was when a most peculiar owl came rapping at his door. Still bitter, he thrust his hand out, using wandless magic to let in the poor owl. The bird flew in, hooting irritatedly, but on its leg it held a letter. Severus frowned. It was entirely too late for any mail...he tore it open, thanked the owl with a thrown frog leg, and settled down to read.

"Severus,

I realized I was rude when I turned you out of my house the other day. However, I had something extremely pressing I had to attend to. To close up a few loose ends, please do not concern yourself with any memory charms I may have used on the headmaster. If you knew, you would understand. I think time has been good to him-he's grown wiser. The memory charms have served their place and if he wishes a memory potion or the like, do not hesitate to aid him. The storm is fast approaching, or so I've heard.

I know it doesn't hearten you to hear this but I actually need your help to accomplish a plan I have long had in action. There is a book I want you to read. I've preordered it for you at Hogsmeade, the receipt is enclosed in the envelope. If my memory charms begin to fray, don't worry. They're actually timed to disintegrate. When you do receive the book, I highly suggest you start reading chapter 7. Do not be upset with me. It was a risk, I know, but the alternative was much worse.

Perhaps, to make it up to you, I'll take you out to lunch sometime in July? How is that?

All my best,

Altair"