Title: Sins of the Father
Author: Daeg
Summary: I'm bad with summaries. But, here's my attempt: A young man goes to Hogwarts for two reasons: to try and make a living on his own, and to find the man who raped his mother. But when Caton starts seeing things, and with Voldemort slowly infiltrating the school, who can stop him? At the peak of the Dark Lord's sorcery, where has Severus dissapparated off to? Or has his double life taken a turn on him for the worse?
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters or logos or any of that. I would think that they belong first and foremost to J.K. Rowling, and Warner Bros. movies and Scholastic Publishing and a bunch of other affiliates. Please don't sue me. This author owns less than $20. No animals, house elves, or Potions Masters were harmed in the writing of this fic.
~ Sins of the Father ~
"That's enough of your funny business! Get out! Get out!!"
"Yes, mum. Tell you what, you give me what's in that box in the closet- you know which one, and I'll leave," the boy said with a faint, patient smile. He waited near the doorway for her to rummage through the closet under the stairs for a moment. She came back with a small black case, the kind that jewelry sometimes comes in. "You can have it! Just like him... you look... just take it. Leave." The woman thrust a worn, aged box taped shut into her son's hands. He bowed and walked out the front door.
It was a dark, velvety night, where the moon was new and few stars shone. The air was warm against his skin. Now that he was thrown out, where should he go? Without anyone to turn to, where was there to go? 'I'll find this father of mine... I'll do it, and when I do, I'll kill him,' Cat thought to himself. It was not such an unreasonable thought- after all, he had never met the man (if one could be called as such) and so much trouble his absence caused over the years of Cats' life. Was he to help it if he resembled the bastard? He snorted. "Hardly..." he said aloud, to no one in particular. Picking any direction, Cat walked down Wisteria Walk towards the main roads.
He glanced up at the streetsign to determine which way to take next. Privet Drive or 25th Street. He chose 25th. It looked like the direction he needed to be in. It wasn't like he was taking a walk around the block; he needed to cover ground while he could stay awake. About halfway down the street, he turned around. Something was off. It wasn't darker, not really... and then he noticed that every light on Privet Drive was off. One eyebrow lifted. 'What the hell? ... logic. Right. Streetlamps are time-controlled. Theirs probably don't shut themselves off at the same time ours do.' Now if he could only get the uneasy feeling to go away. Suddenly, he was very glad to have brought his dagger along- even if he had to keep it hidden. 'At least I'll be able to keep myself in check... and keep other people away.'
A very large man and his family sped past him in a car from Privet Drive. He looked either very angry, or very scared of something. It was hard to tell when someone so beefy was red like that. His wife was rather horselike. Who was the boy with them? He didn't look anything like the rest of them. Must have been his own age, although he didn't look it. And the other boy next to him could have passed for a large sow. 'Heh. Odd folks.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Six Years Later ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tom the Innkeeper watched as a child not more than fifteen or sixteen walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He was not a very tall boy, but he walked with grace and confidence. As if he were as rich as the Malfoy family, which, he clearly was not, judging by the state of his muggle clothing. His hair, although brushed, looked as if it had not been washed in a while. His shoes looked well-worn, as though he might have had them forever. He took a seat up at the other end of the counter. Tom took a closer look as he moved to serve him. He noticed that a few strands of the boy's thick black hair were... grey? How old was he? Then he saw his eyes- the most piercing, striking blue he had ever seen. He was just odd in general, this one.
"Hello, my good sir~ how are you today?"
"Feeling better all the time, and yourself?"
"Ah, very good. Business is moving today! What'll you have?"
"Oh, now, I don't have any money on me... yet." The boy glanced over his shoulder; "Hold that thought."
Tom watched as the young man struck up a conversation with a few of the Hogwarts schoolboys. They all went to a window and watched something... their faces fell as each one of them handed three silver sickles to the boy. He thanked them and assured them better luck the next time. He resumed his seat and set four of the coins on the countertop.
"I'll have a cherry soda, if you don't mind, Tom."
"Sure! Say, do you go to Hogwarts?"
"Beg your pardon?"
"You don't... Hogwarts, School for Witchcraft and Wizadry! It's the best wizarding school in all the world! I thought you might go there, seeing you talk to them as if you were friends..."
"Sorry, no. I didn't know there was a school for such a thing. And I don't actually know them either- I just placed a bet, that's all."
Tom put down the glass he was polishing. "I say. Well, that's certainly one way to do it! What's your name?"
He smiled faintly, and said (in a velvety voice Tom was sure he'd heard someplace else before) "Well, I can't tell you that... I suppose you could call me Cat."
Tom poured Cat the butterbeer. "Alright, Cat~" He passed him the mug. "You don't know of wizarding schools?"
"Not at all. Enlighten me~"
"Well... you are a wizard, aren't you? You can do things you can't explain. You came in here, and muggles don't know there's an inn in this building. To them it looks like part of another place."
"In that case, I suppose I am a wizard. What is a muggle?"
"... Now wait just one minute here, Cat. You mean to say you..." Tom trailed off there, utterly confused. He rubbed his chin when he didn't understand something. Cat sighed. "May I?"
"Go ahead."
"I see things, know things I cannot explain. I do things I cannot explain. I suppose that makes me a wizard... but I have never met any others," Cat paused and took a breath. "Now, might I ask who runs this school of wizardry, and how I can contact him or her?"
Tom waited a moment to reply. "I... A man named Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the century- perhaps longer, is headmaster of Hogwarts. I am not sure exactly where it is. But I assure you, if you owl him a letter, he will try to get back to you. You thinking of trying to get in?"
"If I can't, then I'll try to get a job there. I've been meaning to do that anyways," Cat said and shrugged. He took a drink of the soda.
Tom then went to wait on another customer. Caton stared down at the counter, contemplating exactly what he would do. Should he go visit this Dumbledore? Or just keep moving, to ensure that he would not be found by the authorities? The second option was tempting, but then again, maybe Dumbledore could help him find the owner of the ring his mum had given him. It was silver, two serpents wrapped around each other. The chain had long since broken, and was very tarnished, but the ring had never done so. He had the chain somewhere in his backpack... the ring he wore himself, and never took it off. Just a reminder of his cause. The cause was greater than the need to stay out of sight. 'This is my chance, dammit, the first I've had in years- I'm gonna take it!'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Later that Day ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finding the right trainstation wasn't so hard to do, as big as London was. He tried to follow people he saw at the Leaky Cauldron. The problem was getting on the train with hundreds of people and not getting seen. But... there was no Platform 9 3/4. 'How...? Must be another magic thing. Only wizards can see it. I can't see it. Damn. Maybe I won't get into this school after all. Well... maybe I could get a job anyways... not like I want to teach...' He carefully watched people moving about the station, waiting between Platforms 9 and 10. He wasn't sure what he was looking for.
Then he spotted it. A group of redheads, probably all related, going through a wall one at a time. No one else noticed. They had so carefully timed the whole thing... That was probably the platform. He knew that the train there would take him to Hogwarts because he'd overheard one of the taller students there talking about it to his younger sister. They went one at a time, and stepped right through the wall! Cat cocked one eyebrow. That was it- the sign he had been watching for. He stood up and casually leaned against the wall himself until no one was looking at him, then stepped through the wall himself.
There were so many people there. No one bothered to look at him though, which was good. There had to be a way to get on that train! 'What would Injaka do?' He imagined her talking to a train attendant; the attendant would tell Injaka, "Get on the train! Get on the-" and Injaka would get fiercely defensive and say, "Fuck you, I'm getting in the train. Let Evil Kinevil get on the train!!" He laughed at the whole idea. Wait a second... get on... the... train...
He slipped between two cars of the locomotive when people weren't so much as glancing in his general direction. Next, he had to climb up on the train and stay there between the windows, and not get caught. Then when the train started moving and the people were gone, get on top of the train somehow. He'd never had to do anything like this before. He hoped Hogwarts wasn't far, but was grateful for the scarves Injaka had told him to take- he could tie himself down with them if he couldn't hold on. Which he probably wouldn't be able to. Cat was just about to back out. He looked down at his hands, folding them as he usually did when making a decision... and saw the ring. No way in hell was he walking away now.
A whistle blew somewhere. One minute 'til departure. He peered around the corner of the car- not too many parents there anymore. He could get to work soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ After the Long Trip to Hogwarts ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He tried not to tremble while walking. The ride had taken quite a toll on his body- he was never so scared in his life, especially going over the bridge... Cat vowed never to ride a train again, whether he was in it or on it. That was certain.
He got into the actual school quite easily, as he pretended to everyone that he was in someone else's booth on the train. They noticed he wasn't wearing robes, and he convinced them that he wasn't there for schooling. He was just coming for a visit, and asked if he could borrow one of the guy's robes. He was rather nice. One of the redheads he saw at the station- Ron Weasley. He was quite a character with his grin and playful personality. Cat thanked him, and promised to return it. "Ron, where is the Headmaster's office?"
"Over on the third floor, behind a gargoyle statue. That where you're going?"
"That is where I am supposed to meet him. Thank you."
By the talking other people were doing, Dumbledore would be in the Great Hall for the next few hours for a welcoming feast. People were going to be sorted. He didn't want to be a part of it. He broke off of the crowd and hid in a classroom. After he was sure no one was around, he found his way upstairs.
Now all he had to do was wait.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Dumbledore ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An elderly man walked down the long corridor. Caton stood to greet him- this must be the headmaster. There was just a sense of wisdom about him, and it wasn't just his age or half-moon spectacles.
"Good evening, child. Should not you be in your house?"
"No sir. I would like permission to speak to the Headmaster here, if he is willing, and has the time to do so."
"I have time now. Would you like to come in?"
"Please, sir." Cat looked quickly around. "But there is no door here... is there?"
"Lemon drop."
A little confused, he said, "Beg your..." Cat stopped when the gargoyle moved and revealed a staircase. Dumbledore stood on the step in the center. Cat blinked and followed quietly. Inns that don't exist, walking through walls to platforms between 9 and 10, and now gargoyles that jump out of the way at a few words and strange staircases. Caton mentally shrugged- hey, with magic, anything must be possible, and anything goes.
Stepping inside the large office was like stepping into an alternate reality. Blinking things, sparkling objects, random crystals and whatnot he couldn't identify were in every which way. Silver instruments and things littered shelves, tables, and were sometimes strewn across the floor in places, resting atop luxurious oriental carpets. The headmaster took a seat at the desk, and motioned for Caton to do the same. He nodded and obeyed. "I did not see you at the Sorting tonight, young man. What is your name?"
"I did not go. I think you already know that I am not a student here. My name is Caton Crawford, or Cat for short."
"Caton, why are you here?"
"I wanted to ask you for a job. I can clean and cook... I'll do anything else you ask, no matter how hard or dangerous, short of assassination."
"I see. You do not wish to learn here?"
Cat looked down, a little embarrased. "Alas, sir, I have no resources. I'd be borrowing paper and pen everyday," he said and smiled. "But in the meantime..."
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "I see," he replied, adjusting his glasses and proceeding to sift through some papers. "Well... I am sure we can find something for you to do. How old are you?" Dumbledore noted the seemingly boy's haircolor. Jet black and silver. No one so young should have grey hair already. With self-writing quill and parchment out, he began taking records. Cat watched as the quill wrote out Dumbledore's question, fascinated. He shook his head, returning to his senses.
"I am sixteen, sir."
"Do you have any previous schooling in wizardry?"
He shook his head. "No sir, but I learn most things quickly."
"Do you have a wand?"
"No sir. I can do manual labour."
"I see. You come from a muggle family then."
"Muggles are non-magic people, correct?" Dumbledore nodded.
"Then I am."
The headmaster looked slightly perplexed. "Did your parents send you? If so, how did you get here?" Cat's eyes dimmed. 'How to answer?' He bit his lip, and spoke slowly. "Ah... parent. Singular. No, my mother did not send me. I found you on my own, and caught the train."
"Ah. That explains a good deal. How did you get by without a ticket?"
Cat smiled. "I got on the train." Dumbledores self-writing quill nearly fell over when he realized exactly how Caton had worded the sentence. He had gotten on the train. Cat only nodded, wondering what was coming next.
"Does she know where you are?" Albus asked, noting how calm Caton suddenly became. Not quite calm- smoother. He could pass off lies like that. Cat inhaled before starting. "No sir. She threw me out of the house when I was eleven. She does not think it right to be... un, what we are. It is against her religion, you see."
The sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes went out for a moment, and his hands clasped slightly tighter. "I see... Have you been living on your own since?"
"No sir. I am a loner, not alone. I found a friend or two on the way," Cat replied with a small smile, thinking of Injaka all the time...
"Are they with you here?"
"No. I have not seen her in a long time. Nearly half a year. We try to keep in touch."
"Ah. I think we can do something for you. Would you like to work in the kitchens? I'm sure the house elves wouldn't mind."
"If they will have me, sir. I have never met a house elf." Suddenly he was just the slightest bit anxious. 'Elves? Really? How... magical. heh. I have a lot to learn... how come I never saw them before?'
"I think you will like them. Dobby might be a bit talkative though. You will know him when you see him," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling behind the spectacles. Cat looked up, an excited spark in his eyes. "Thank you sir! There are a few more things I would like to ask, however. What is the rate for a room here? Or any place, really."
"There is none. We provide housing for all of our staff here. The castle is certainly big enough..."
"I see." Caton bowed. "Thank you sir."
"Is there anything else you would like to ask?"
Cat thought a moment, and said, "Yes sir. When do I start, where are the kitchens, and might I have a map of the castle to see where I am going?"
Dumbledore smiled. "You may start tomorrow morning, if you wish. I will show you to the kitchens, and," he pulled a small roll of parchment out of a drawer. "You may have a map. This red dot here will always show where you are."
"Ah, yes, so it does. How does it know my name?"
"Magic." Dumbledore smiled. Cat looked up from the parchment, grinning. He didn't notice when Dumledore's eyes fell on the ring he was wearing. Two serpents, coiled around each other. Silver, with bright emerald insets for eyes. It was like one Severus owned at one point, a family heirloom- one of the few he had kept. That was a long time ago, and had been lost on a Death Eater event. Dumbledore's smile faded slightly, noting how much Caton looked like the said professor.
With that all out of the way, Dumbledore stood and led the young man out of the room and down to the kitchens. On their way, a middle-aged woman with square glasses approached them. "Good evening, ma'am," Caton greeted her. That was th ewoman he had seen earlier when he was getting off of the trains.
"Good evening, Headmaster. Good evening, young man. What is your name? I did not see you at the Sorting."
"No ma'am, I am employed here, as of tomorrow morning. My name is Caton. Might I ask who you are?"
"Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House. Pleased to meet you, Caton."
"Minerva, I must be on my way- there's a lot to show Mr. Crawford here before tomorrow morning. Good night."
"Yes Headmaster. Sorry to keep you. Goodnight, Caton, Albus."
Caton gave a slight bow in response. Then they parted ways.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ "Finally, a hot bath..." ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dumbledore had spent an hour showing him around the kitchen, introducing him to all availible house elves, and then showing him to his room. There was suprisingly a built-in bathroom, which was very enticing. According to a clock on the wall, it was a little past 9:30 p.m. Not too late, but it felt like it. Cat's arms were sore, as was his legs. He knelt over the bath and ran the very warm water until it was nearly a foot and a half deep. That wasn't very deep for this particular bath, but he didn't know if there was a bill or whatnot for the school. Three different knobs on the bath, one for hot, warm, and cold water... and a few others he didn't recognize. He didn't want to try them at the moment either.
There was conveniently shampoo and conditioner at hand, along with various soaps. They smelled nice... it was good to sit back. How long had it been since a decent bath? Five years? Of course, he had washed since then. At least every other day. But it wasn't this good- didn't even compare. He never realized how tan he really was before. There was a noticeble tan line in places, where his skin went from an ivory, milky color to very tan. "Well, looks like someone is bound to wind up with skin cancer... heh."
"Beg your pardon, dear?"
Cat's head snapped up. "State your name, and show yourself." What the hell? How could he have let his guard down? He should have noticed that someone was with him!
"I am right in front of you. My name is Gwyn."
Cat was suddenly thankful for his darkened skin- he hoped he didn't turn too red when he blushed. "I cannot see you... I don't think..."
"I am the mirror."
"... Come again?"
"I am a mirror, sir."
"Ah. I see you then... sorry... I didn't know that mirrors could talk." He sank deeper into the water, wondering how much she had seen.
"If it's any comfort, I close my eyes when someone is bathing."
Cat made a small noise, followed by, "Thank you, dear."
A long pause ensued, filled in by Cat looking at his nails. They were mostly clean, and filed, as were his toenails. It had been very important to him to keep washed when on the road. He had kept his nails short to help ease random activities, but really wanted them a little longer for a bit.
"Pardon me. I had not introduced myself properly. I am Caton. If you like, you can call me Cat," he said, smiling.
"That's an unusual name. Where is it from?"
"Cat? Or Caton?"
"Either and both, if you don't mind..." the mirror chuckled.
"Cat, because it is shorter than Caton, and because of my teeth..." he smiled again, this time showing his teeth. The canine teeth were a little longer than most people's, and pointed. "Ah... Caton... I think it may be Latin or Italian. Not sure. If I ever find out, I'll tell you, okay?"
The mirror chuckled again. "Alright, Cat~"
Caton nodded, and quickly finished washing. He reached for the towel he had set on the footstool next to the tub. Standing and wrapping himself in it so as not to show anything, he stepped out of the water onto the stone floor. In the main room, he picked up the robe Ron had lent him and dressed in only that. His other clothes were very dirty. Then again, he hadn't let the water out of the tub yet... suppose he could use a little of the shampoo as detergent and wash them by hand. That would do for now, until he could get them properly cleaned. He wondered how the other wizards did it- if they lived here, then surely each one of them did not bring as many clothes as to be able to wear something new every day? There must be some kind of laundry service. Or perhaps they came already knowing spells to clean their clothes for them. Probably the latter.
Cat picked up the shirt, which needed cold water and therefore couldn't be washed in the tub, and sat that aside. The pants, however, could. He let some of the water drain, and found a loofah to help the soap to lather on the clothes.
"What are you doing, Cat?"
"Washing my clothes. They need it..."
"Why don't you take them to the house elves? They'll do it for you."
"Not supposed to be out after nine, unfortunately."
"You do not have a wand?"
"No ma'am."
"Are you a wizard?"
"Yes. At least, I believe so. My work here does not require a wand. Can you do spells or whatnot without one?"
"Yes, accidental magic. But that is... well, accidental. At least, that's what I think. You might ask the librarian, or a teacher here... Madam Pince should be able to help you."
"That's a good idea. While I'm there, I'll get a book on cleaning spells." Caton laughed. He could just imagine himself waving around a twig, saying nonsensical words and making things go *poof!* in purple and orange smoke.
The mirror looked on as he dipped the trousers into the warm water and washed them, working the soap in with his hands. Finally, he drained the tub completely, and rinsed them. After ringing them out, and flattening them on the bathroom counter with his hands, he soaked up the extra water in them with another towel pressed onto it. He pressed them out one more time. "They'll dry like that, see? Not hard." After that he washed his shirt in the same manner, pressing it all different ways to keep the creases where they should be. He got the feeling the mirror had never seen anything like it.
"Is that how muggles clean their clothes?"
"Not all of them. Most have big machines made of metal and plastics that do it for them. It takes a little longer, but you can wash much more at once. It also makes them cleaner than handwashing, usually. There are still muggle clothes that have to be hand washed, though."
"Fascinating... what things they think of to aid them!"
Cat only laughed. "Well... I think... to use magic for everything would make one lazy sometimes. It makes life less interesting sometimes, takes away the pride of being able to do for yourself no matter what. Then again, I've not done proper magic, so I could be wrong."
The mirror made what sounded like a sigh. He didn't know whether she was upset or agreed or...
"Beg your pardon, dear, have I offended you?"
"Not at all, I just don't understand about people. That's all."
Cat smiled. "It's okay, most people don't understand people either. I sure don't. Anyways... it's a little after 10:30 now. I'm going to bed... see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight."
Cat lay down on the incredibly comfortable four-poster bed. After a few minutes, he fell asleep.
Author: Daeg
Summary: I'm bad with summaries. But, here's my attempt: A young man goes to Hogwarts for two reasons: to try and make a living on his own, and to find the man who raped his mother. But when Caton starts seeing things, and with Voldemort slowly infiltrating the school, who can stop him? At the peak of the Dark Lord's sorcery, where has Severus dissapparated off to? Or has his double life taken a turn on him for the worse?
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters or logos or any of that. I would think that they belong first and foremost to J.K. Rowling, and Warner Bros. movies and Scholastic Publishing and a bunch of other affiliates. Please don't sue me. This author owns less than $20. No animals, house elves, or Potions Masters were harmed in the writing of this fic.
~ Sins of the Father ~
"That's enough of your funny business! Get out! Get out!!"
"Yes, mum. Tell you what, you give me what's in that box in the closet- you know which one, and I'll leave," the boy said with a faint, patient smile. He waited near the doorway for her to rummage through the closet under the stairs for a moment. She came back with a small black case, the kind that jewelry sometimes comes in. "You can have it! Just like him... you look... just take it. Leave." The woman thrust a worn, aged box taped shut into her son's hands. He bowed and walked out the front door.
It was a dark, velvety night, where the moon was new and few stars shone. The air was warm against his skin. Now that he was thrown out, where should he go? Without anyone to turn to, where was there to go? 'I'll find this father of mine... I'll do it, and when I do, I'll kill him,' Cat thought to himself. It was not such an unreasonable thought- after all, he had never met the man (if one could be called as such) and so much trouble his absence caused over the years of Cats' life. Was he to help it if he resembled the bastard? He snorted. "Hardly..." he said aloud, to no one in particular. Picking any direction, Cat walked down Wisteria Walk towards the main roads.
He glanced up at the streetsign to determine which way to take next. Privet Drive or 25th Street. He chose 25th. It looked like the direction he needed to be in. It wasn't like he was taking a walk around the block; he needed to cover ground while he could stay awake. About halfway down the street, he turned around. Something was off. It wasn't darker, not really... and then he noticed that every light on Privet Drive was off. One eyebrow lifted. 'What the hell? ... logic. Right. Streetlamps are time-controlled. Theirs probably don't shut themselves off at the same time ours do.' Now if he could only get the uneasy feeling to go away. Suddenly, he was very glad to have brought his dagger along- even if he had to keep it hidden. 'At least I'll be able to keep myself in check... and keep other people away.'
A very large man and his family sped past him in a car from Privet Drive. He looked either very angry, or very scared of something. It was hard to tell when someone so beefy was red like that. His wife was rather horselike. Who was the boy with them? He didn't look anything like the rest of them. Must have been his own age, although he didn't look it. And the other boy next to him could have passed for a large sow. 'Heh. Odd folks.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Six Years Later ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tom the Innkeeper watched as a child not more than fifteen or sixteen walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He was not a very tall boy, but he walked with grace and confidence. As if he were as rich as the Malfoy family, which, he clearly was not, judging by the state of his muggle clothing. His hair, although brushed, looked as if it had not been washed in a while. His shoes looked well-worn, as though he might have had them forever. He took a seat up at the other end of the counter. Tom took a closer look as he moved to serve him. He noticed that a few strands of the boy's thick black hair were... grey? How old was he? Then he saw his eyes- the most piercing, striking blue he had ever seen. He was just odd in general, this one.
"Hello, my good sir~ how are you today?"
"Feeling better all the time, and yourself?"
"Ah, very good. Business is moving today! What'll you have?"
"Oh, now, I don't have any money on me... yet." The boy glanced over his shoulder; "Hold that thought."
Tom watched as the young man struck up a conversation with a few of the Hogwarts schoolboys. They all went to a window and watched something... their faces fell as each one of them handed three silver sickles to the boy. He thanked them and assured them better luck the next time. He resumed his seat and set four of the coins on the countertop.
"I'll have a cherry soda, if you don't mind, Tom."
"Sure! Say, do you go to Hogwarts?"
"Beg your pardon?"
"You don't... Hogwarts, School for Witchcraft and Wizadry! It's the best wizarding school in all the world! I thought you might go there, seeing you talk to them as if you were friends..."
"Sorry, no. I didn't know there was a school for such a thing. And I don't actually know them either- I just placed a bet, that's all."
Tom put down the glass he was polishing. "I say. Well, that's certainly one way to do it! What's your name?"
He smiled faintly, and said (in a velvety voice Tom was sure he'd heard someplace else before) "Well, I can't tell you that... I suppose you could call me Cat."
Tom poured Cat the butterbeer. "Alright, Cat~" He passed him the mug. "You don't know of wizarding schools?"
"Not at all. Enlighten me~"
"Well... you are a wizard, aren't you? You can do things you can't explain. You came in here, and muggles don't know there's an inn in this building. To them it looks like part of another place."
"In that case, I suppose I am a wizard. What is a muggle?"
"... Now wait just one minute here, Cat. You mean to say you..." Tom trailed off there, utterly confused. He rubbed his chin when he didn't understand something. Cat sighed. "May I?"
"Go ahead."
"I see things, know things I cannot explain. I do things I cannot explain. I suppose that makes me a wizard... but I have never met any others," Cat paused and took a breath. "Now, might I ask who runs this school of wizardry, and how I can contact him or her?"
Tom waited a moment to reply. "I... A man named Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the century- perhaps longer, is headmaster of Hogwarts. I am not sure exactly where it is. But I assure you, if you owl him a letter, he will try to get back to you. You thinking of trying to get in?"
"If I can't, then I'll try to get a job there. I've been meaning to do that anyways," Cat said and shrugged. He took a drink of the soda.
Tom then went to wait on another customer. Caton stared down at the counter, contemplating exactly what he would do. Should he go visit this Dumbledore? Or just keep moving, to ensure that he would not be found by the authorities? The second option was tempting, but then again, maybe Dumbledore could help him find the owner of the ring his mum had given him. It was silver, two serpents wrapped around each other. The chain had long since broken, and was very tarnished, but the ring had never done so. He had the chain somewhere in his backpack... the ring he wore himself, and never took it off. Just a reminder of his cause. The cause was greater than the need to stay out of sight. 'This is my chance, dammit, the first I've had in years- I'm gonna take it!'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Later that Day ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finding the right trainstation wasn't so hard to do, as big as London was. He tried to follow people he saw at the Leaky Cauldron. The problem was getting on the train with hundreds of people and not getting seen. But... there was no Platform 9 3/4. 'How...? Must be another magic thing. Only wizards can see it. I can't see it. Damn. Maybe I won't get into this school after all. Well... maybe I could get a job anyways... not like I want to teach...' He carefully watched people moving about the station, waiting between Platforms 9 and 10. He wasn't sure what he was looking for.
Then he spotted it. A group of redheads, probably all related, going through a wall one at a time. No one else noticed. They had so carefully timed the whole thing... That was probably the platform. He knew that the train there would take him to Hogwarts because he'd overheard one of the taller students there talking about it to his younger sister. They went one at a time, and stepped right through the wall! Cat cocked one eyebrow. That was it- the sign he had been watching for. He stood up and casually leaned against the wall himself until no one was looking at him, then stepped through the wall himself.
There were so many people there. No one bothered to look at him though, which was good. There had to be a way to get on that train! 'What would Injaka do?' He imagined her talking to a train attendant; the attendant would tell Injaka, "Get on the train! Get on the-" and Injaka would get fiercely defensive and say, "Fuck you, I'm getting in the train. Let Evil Kinevil get on the train!!" He laughed at the whole idea. Wait a second... get on... the... train...
He slipped between two cars of the locomotive when people weren't so much as glancing in his general direction. Next, he had to climb up on the train and stay there between the windows, and not get caught. Then when the train started moving and the people were gone, get on top of the train somehow. He'd never had to do anything like this before. He hoped Hogwarts wasn't far, but was grateful for the scarves Injaka had told him to take- he could tie himself down with them if he couldn't hold on. Which he probably wouldn't be able to. Cat was just about to back out. He looked down at his hands, folding them as he usually did when making a decision... and saw the ring. No way in hell was he walking away now.
A whistle blew somewhere. One minute 'til departure. He peered around the corner of the car- not too many parents there anymore. He could get to work soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ After the Long Trip to Hogwarts ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He tried not to tremble while walking. The ride had taken quite a toll on his body- he was never so scared in his life, especially going over the bridge... Cat vowed never to ride a train again, whether he was in it or on it. That was certain.
He got into the actual school quite easily, as he pretended to everyone that he was in someone else's booth on the train. They noticed he wasn't wearing robes, and he convinced them that he wasn't there for schooling. He was just coming for a visit, and asked if he could borrow one of the guy's robes. He was rather nice. One of the redheads he saw at the station- Ron Weasley. He was quite a character with his grin and playful personality. Cat thanked him, and promised to return it. "Ron, where is the Headmaster's office?"
"Over on the third floor, behind a gargoyle statue. That where you're going?"
"That is where I am supposed to meet him. Thank you."
By the talking other people were doing, Dumbledore would be in the Great Hall for the next few hours for a welcoming feast. People were going to be sorted. He didn't want to be a part of it. He broke off of the crowd and hid in a classroom. After he was sure no one was around, he found his way upstairs.
Now all he had to do was wait.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Dumbledore ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An elderly man walked down the long corridor. Caton stood to greet him- this must be the headmaster. There was just a sense of wisdom about him, and it wasn't just his age or half-moon spectacles.
"Good evening, child. Should not you be in your house?"
"No sir. I would like permission to speak to the Headmaster here, if he is willing, and has the time to do so."
"I have time now. Would you like to come in?"
"Please, sir." Cat looked quickly around. "But there is no door here... is there?"
"Lemon drop."
A little confused, he said, "Beg your..." Cat stopped when the gargoyle moved and revealed a staircase. Dumbledore stood on the step in the center. Cat blinked and followed quietly. Inns that don't exist, walking through walls to platforms between 9 and 10, and now gargoyles that jump out of the way at a few words and strange staircases. Caton mentally shrugged- hey, with magic, anything must be possible, and anything goes.
Stepping inside the large office was like stepping into an alternate reality. Blinking things, sparkling objects, random crystals and whatnot he couldn't identify were in every which way. Silver instruments and things littered shelves, tables, and were sometimes strewn across the floor in places, resting atop luxurious oriental carpets. The headmaster took a seat at the desk, and motioned for Caton to do the same. He nodded and obeyed. "I did not see you at the Sorting tonight, young man. What is your name?"
"I did not go. I think you already know that I am not a student here. My name is Caton Crawford, or Cat for short."
"Caton, why are you here?"
"I wanted to ask you for a job. I can clean and cook... I'll do anything else you ask, no matter how hard or dangerous, short of assassination."
"I see. You do not wish to learn here?"
Cat looked down, a little embarrased. "Alas, sir, I have no resources. I'd be borrowing paper and pen everyday," he said and smiled. "But in the meantime..."
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "I see," he replied, adjusting his glasses and proceeding to sift through some papers. "Well... I am sure we can find something for you to do. How old are you?" Dumbledore noted the seemingly boy's haircolor. Jet black and silver. No one so young should have grey hair already. With self-writing quill and parchment out, he began taking records. Cat watched as the quill wrote out Dumbledore's question, fascinated. He shook his head, returning to his senses.
"I am sixteen, sir."
"Do you have any previous schooling in wizardry?"
He shook his head. "No sir, but I learn most things quickly."
"Do you have a wand?"
"No sir. I can do manual labour."
"I see. You come from a muggle family then."
"Muggles are non-magic people, correct?" Dumbledore nodded.
"Then I am."
The headmaster looked slightly perplexed. "Did your parents send you? If so, how did you get here?" Cat's eyes dimmed. 'How to answer?' He bit his lip, and spoke slowly. "Ah... parent. Singular. No, my mother did not send me. I found you on my own, and caught the train."
"Ah. That explains a good deal. How did you get by without a ticket?"
Cat smiled. "I got on the train." Dumbledores self-writing quill nearly fell over when he realized exactly how Caton had worded the sentence. He had gotten on the train. Cat only nodded, wondering what was coming next.
"Does she know where you are?" Albus asked, noting how calm Caton suddenly became. Not quite calm- smoother. He could pass off lies like that. Cat inhaled before starting. "No sir. She threw me out of the house when I was eleven. She does not think it right to be... un, what we are. It is against her religion, you see."
The sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes went out for a moment, and his hands clasped slightly tighter. "I see... Have you been living on your own since?"
"No sir. I am a loner, not alone. I found a friend or two on the way," Cat replied with a small smile, thinking of Injaka all the time...
"Are they with you here?"
"No. I have not seen her in a long time. Nearly half a year. We try to keep in touch."
"Ah. I think we can do something for you. Would you like to work in the kitchens? I'm sure the house elves wouldn't mind."
"If they will have me, sir. I have never met a house elf." Suddenly he was just the slightest bit anxious. 'Elves? Really? How... magical. heh. I have a lot to learn... how come I never saw them before?'
"I think you will like them. Dobby might be a bit talkative though. You will know him when you see him," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling behind the spectacles. Cat looked up, an excited spark in his eyes. "Thank you sir! There are a few more things I would like to ask, however. What is the rate for a room here? Or any place, really."
"There is none. We provide housing for all of our staff here. The castle is certainly big enough..."
"I see." Caton bowed. "Thank you sir."
"Is there anything else you would like to ask?"
Cat thought a moment, and said, "Yes sir. When do I start, where are the kitchens, and might I have a map of the castle to see where I am going?"
Dumbledore smiled. "You may start tomorrow morning, if you wish. I will show you to the kitchens, and," he pulled a small roll of parchment out of a drawer. "You may have a map. This red dot here will always show where you are."
"Ah, yes, so it does. How does it know my name?"
"Magic." Dumbledore smiled. Cat looked up from the parchment, grinning. He didn't notice when Dumledore's eyes fell on the ring he was wearing. Two serpents, coiled around each other. Silver, with bright emerald insets for eyes. It was like one Severus owned at one point, a family heirloom- one of the few he had kept. That was a long time ago, and had been lost on a Death Eater event. Dumbledore's smile faded slightly, noting how much Caton looked like the said professor.
With that all out of the way, Dumbledore stood and led the young man out of the room and down to the kitchens. On their way, a middle-aged woman with square glasses approached them. "Good evening, ma'am," Caton greeted her. That was th ewoman he had seen earlier when he was getting off of the trains.
"Good evening, Headmaster. Good evening, young man. What is your name? I did not see you at the Sorting."
"No ma'am, I am employed here, as of tomorrow morning. My name is Caton. Might I ask who you are?"
"Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House. Pleased to meet you, Caton."
"Minerva, I must be on my way- there's a lot to show Mr. Crawford here before tomorrow morning. Good night."
"Yes Headmaster. Sorry to keep you. Goodnight, Caton, Albus."
Caton gave a slight bow in response. Then they parted ways.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ "Finally, a hot bath..." ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dumbledore had spent an hour showing him around the kitchen, introducing him to all availible house elves, and then showing him to his room. There was suprisingly a built-in bathroom, which was very enticing. According to a clock on the wall, it was a little past 9:30 p.m. Not too late, but it felt like it. Cat's arms were sore, as was his legs. He knelt over the bath and ran the very warm water until it was nearly a foot and a half deep. That wasn't very deep for this particular bath, but he didn't know if there was a bill or whatnot for the school. Three different knobs on the bath, one for hot, warm, and cold water... and a few others he didn't recognize. He didn't want to try them at the moment either.
There was conveniently shampoo and conditioner at hand, along with various soaps. They smelled nice... it was good to sit back. How long had it been since a decent bath? Five years? Of course, he had washed since then. At least every other day. But it wasn't this good- didn't even compare. He never realized how tan he really was before. There was a noticeble tan line in places, where his skin went from an ivory, milky color to very tan. "Well, looks like someone is bound to wind up with skin cancer... heh."
"Beg your pardon, dear?"
Cat's head snapped up. "State your name, and show yourself." What the hell? How could he have let his guard down? He should have noticed that someone was with him!
"I am right in front of you. My name is Gwyn."
Cat was suddenly thankful for his darkened skin- he hoped he didn't turn too red when he blushed. "I cannot see you... I don't think..."
"I am the mirror."
"... Come again?"
"I am a mirror, sir."
"Ah. I see you then... sorry... I didn't know that mirrors could talk." He sank deeper into the water, wondering how much she had seen.
"If it's any comfort, I close my eyes when someone is bathing."
Cat made a small noise, followed by, "Thank you, dear."
A long pause ensued, filled in by Cat looking at his nails. They were mostly clean, and filed, as were his toenails. It had been very important to him to keep washed when on the road. He had kept his nails short to help ease random activities, but really wanted them a little longer for a bit.
"Pardon me. I had not introduced myself properly. I am Caton. If you like, you can call me Cat," he said, smiling.
"That's an unusual name. Where is it from?"
"Cat? Or Caton?"
"Either and both, if you don't mind..." the mirror chuckled.
"Cat, because it is shorter than Caton, and because of my teeth..." he smiled again, this time showing his teeth. The canine teeth were a little longer than most people's, and pointed. "Ah... Caton... I think it may be Latin or Italian. Not sure. If I ever find out, I'll tell you, okay?"
The mirror chuckled again. "Alright, Cat~"
Caton nodded, and quickly finished washing. He reached for the towel he had set on the footstool next to the tub. Standing and wrapping himself in it so as not to show anything, he stepped out of the water onto the stone floor. In the main room, he picked up the robe Ron had lent him and dressed in only that. His other clothes were very dirty. Then again, he hadn't let the water out of the tub yet... suppose he could use a little of the shampoo as detergent and wash them by hand. That would do for now, until he could get them properly cleaned. He wondered how the other wizards did it- if they lived here, then surely each one of them did not bring as many clothes as to be able to wear something new every day? There must be some kind of laundry service. Or perhaps they came already knowing spells to clean their clothes for them. Probably the latter.
Cat picked up the shirt, which needed cold water and therefore couldn't be washed in the tub, and sat that aside. The pants, however, could. He let some of the water drain, and found a loofah to help the soap to lather on the clothes.
"What are you doing, Cat?"
"Washing my clothes. They need it..."
"Why don't you take them to the house elves? They'll do it for you."
"Not supposed to be out after nine, unfortunately."
"You do not have a wand?"
"No ma'am."
"Are you a wizard?"
"Yes. At least, I believe so. My work here does not require a wand. Can you do spells or whatnot without one?"
"Yes, accidental magic. But that is... well, accidental. At least, that's what I think. You might ask the librarian, or a teacher here... Madam Pince should be able to help you."
"That's a good idea. While I'm there, I'll get a book on cleaning spells." Caton laughed. He could just imagine himself waving around a twig, saying nonsensical words and making things go *poof!* in purple and orange smoke.
The mirror looked on as he dipped the trousers into the warm water and washed them, working the soap in with his hands. Finally, he drained the tub completely, and rinsed them. After ringing them out, and flattening them on the bathroom counter with his hands, he soaked up the extra water in them with another towel pressed onto it. He pressed them out one more time. "They'll dry like that, see? Not hard." After that he washed his shirt in the same manner, pressing it all different ways to keep the creases where they should be. He got the feeling the mirror had never seen anything like it.
"Is that how muggles clean their clothes?"
"Not all of them. Most have big machines made of metal and plastics that do it for them. It takes a little longer, but you can wash much more at once. It also makes them cleaner than handwashing, usually. There are still muggle clothes that have to be hand washed, though."
"Fascinating... what things they think of to aid them!"
Cat only laughed. "Well... I think... to use magic for everything would make one lazy sometimes. It makes life less interesting sometimes, takes away the pride of being able to do for yourself no matter what. Then again, I've not done proper magic, so I could be wrong."
The mirror made what sounded like a sigh. He didn't know whether she was upset or agreed or...
"Beg your pardon, dear, have I offended you?"
"Not at all, I just don't understand about people. That's all."
Cat smiled. "It's okay, most people don't understand people either. I sure don't. Anyways... it's a little after 10:30 now. I'm going to bed... see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight."
Cat lay down on the incredibly comfortable four-poster bed. After a few minutes, he fell asleep.