The password must have changed.

Tadashi clutched at the strap of bag a little tighter and repeated the word which had definitely slid the painting across last night. Nothing happened for the fourth time in a row, and his stomach dropped a little lower, all tight and clenchy as his eyes started to prick with tears.

This wasn't normally an issue; on any other night, he'd have put on a brave face and shouldered his bag another few minutes to get up the Great Hall and ask one of the prefects about the password change. But this wasn't any other night, and Tadashi didn't think he'd be able to lug his bag up the stairs again. Not when it was heavy on his back with two too many textbooks and the sickening weight of failure. And he couldn't leave it down here, because there was no telling who might go through it.

Swallowing hard, and trying to ignore how much it hurt his throat, Tadashi blinked back his tears and started the trek back down the corridor. Only a few minutes. And some stairs. And then he'd have to work up the guts to talk to one of the prefects, and they'd snapped at him enough times to make him wary of them. And then he'd… have to come back down. With his heavy bag. Again.

He lowered his gaze, and a shadowy patch in the wall caught his eye. Tadashi stopped, and raised his eyes a little. It was an alcove, slotted neatly into the wall. There was a torch bracket inside it, but no torch. It wasn't very deep, but it looked like it might be big enough for one skinny twelve-year-old boy to curl up and hide from the rest of the world in.

So that was what Tadashi did. And then he rested his head on his knees and started to cry.

He felt like he'd been holding tears back for hours and hours, because he'd had a really, really horrible day, and being locked out of the common room had sort of snapped the last thread of hope he'd had that things were going to get at least a little better before bedtime. All he wanted was to curl up in bed to do his homework, and maybe a hot lemon, ginger and honey for his throat. And his mum, and as soon as he thought that he got a little pang in his throat and a new wave of tears coursed down his cheeks. Mum would give him a cuddle and make him stay in bed and he wouldn't have to go to school with a gradually worsening cold and have to wipe his nose on the sleeve of his robes because he didn't have any tissues.

It hadn't been so bad this morning. He'd had a sore throat and runny nose when he woke up, but that had been manageable. His day had only started to go downhill in double Potions first thing with the Slytherins.

Potions wasn't really Tadashi's best subject anyway. It hadn't been too bad at the start of the year; the teacher was a bit scary, but he'd explained a lot of stuff that had made lots of previously incomprehensible things in the textbook make sense; and his talk had been to the whole class. (And though they hadn't said anything, Tadashi was pretty sure a lot of the pure-blood and half-blood students had been just as relieved as the Muggle-borns that they weren't entering this world of cauldrons and crushed scarab beetles and icky smells without a clue as to what they were doing.)

But over the past month, Tadashi had been struggling with the subject a lot more than he had at the start of the year. He didn't know what was going on – he always made sure to read through the instructions several times before starting, and was always very careful to follow them exactly. But none of the potions he'd made for several weeks had actually worked. They didn't look right half the time, and even when they were the right colour, they still had the wrong consistency or smelled the wrong sort of awful, and there had been one really horrible incident where his potion had just shrunk in on itself until it vanished.

Today's Potions lesson had been no different. His potion was supposed to be blue and odourless. It had ended up yellow, and had smelt like overcooked broccoli. The teacher had just raised an eyebrow before Vanishing the contents of the cauldron and giving Tadashi extra homework for the fifth time that month. Even worse, though, had been his seatmate's reaction.

Kei Tsukishima was a Slytherin. Very tall, very judgemental, and very, very cool. Tadashi wouldn't even have sat next to him, except that everyone else from Hufflepuff had sat with everyone else from Hufflepuff. And none of the Slytherins really seemed to like Tsukishima that much – or maybe it was just that Tsukishima didn't like them – and a minute later Tadashi had found himself sharing a bench with Tsukishima, who had then proceeded to ignore him for most of the year thus far.

The teacher had left their bench after nodding approvingly at Tsukishima's potion, leaving Tadashi fidgeting on his bench with twenty minutes left of the lesson. Tsukishima looked over then, his face passive as he examined Tadashi's emptied cauldron.

"He Vanished it," Tsukishima said.

Tadashi nodded.

"Give me your book," Tsukishima asked – at least, it felt like a question. Tadashi handed his Potions book over silently and rubbed his nose on his sleeve; it had started running again. Tsukishima spent a while slowly flipping through the pages of Tadashi's book, occasionally glancing at his own. Eventually, he closed the book and placed it on the bench in front of Tadashi.

He then turned back to his cauldron. "Pathetic."

A lump rose in Tadashi's throat, and he spent the rest of the lesson packing up his ingredients and fighting back tears.

Potions had been bad enough, but Tadashi's mood dropped a bit more when he got to lunch and saw that it was fish pie. And peas. Both of which he hated.

He ended up picking at his lunch (and hot food was usually good, but this stuff just burned his mouth) at the end of the table closest to the door. No one that he was sort of on good terms with had any space next to them, and he didn't want to try sitting next to one of the older students. Chances were that they'd ask him why he wasn't eating, and it wasn't his fault that peas were a sorry excuse for a vegetable.

He'd hardly been able to concentrate in his afternoon classes, still feeling the sting of the Potions lesson. In Transfiguration, a quiz he'd studied really hard for had been handed back; he'd barely passed. His cold had been getting worse as well; he'd heard there was a Hospital Wing in the school, but he had no idea where it was, and didn't know if he could even get something like Panadol there to ease his symptoms a bit.

He'd then remembered that he had a book that needed to be returned to the library, and he'd gotten lost trying to find his way back to the common room after getting growled at by the librarian (because apparently the book was four days overdue).

And now he was here. In a chilly, abandoned corridor, crying in a little alcove and fervently wishing, more than anything else, that he could just go home. Home meant no magic, and no scary boarding school where the teachers just seemed to expect that he could look after himself. But he couldn't go home, he was certain of that. Not until the end of June. Which was a long, long time away. He curled in on himself a little tighter as he continued to sob.

And then he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor toward him.

He lifted his head upright, startled, and pushed himself as far into the little alcove as he could manage. Pretend you're not there, pretend you're not there and no one's gonna notice you… He could feel his nose streaming again, and he sniffed involuntarily.

The footsteps stopped.

"Hello? Is someone there?" It was a boy's voice, light and concerned. It sounded a little bit familiar; probably one of the older boys from Hufflepuff. Tadashi shrank back on himself a little more. Just pretend you're not there…

The person started walking again, and as he passed by the alcove, Tadashi tensed up. The boy didn't look in his direction, and he allowed himself to relax. Another sob escaped his throat, and god damn it, it really hurt.

And to his horror, the footsteps starting coming back towards him. And this time when the boy passed the alcove, he looked. Tadashi met his eyes for a second, then buried his face in his arms again. He heard the boy approach, and tried to hold back his tears.

"Hey," the boy said gently. "What's the matter?"

Tadashi sniffed, but somehow couldn't manage to find words to express exactly how horribly awful his day had been. His face was growing warmer and warmer with embarrassment; it just had to be one of the older students. He'd heard horror stories from the second-years about what the older students did if they didn't think the first-years were up to scratch. No details, but considering that the non-magic bullies at his old primary school hadn't been above flushing his head down the toilet, he didn't want to risk annoying someone who was like that, but could also use a wand.

"Has someone done something to you?" Tadashi shook his head a little. "Okay… Something happen in classes?" At this Tadashi paused for a second. This didn't sound like a threat, or a telling off. It sounded like… almost like a big brother. So maybe he didn't have to pretend he was alright.

He nodded his head the tiniest bit. Then he swallowed again. It felt like knives and sandpaper were grating against his throat, and his face heated up even more as he started crying again. A hand suddenly landed in his hair, and started gently sifting through it, massaging his scalp. Tadashi looked up, and through his tears he saw that the older boy was kneeling on the ground. He caught the boy's eye, and the boy opened up an arm, a gentle smile on his face.

Tadashi allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Not as warm and cuddly as his mum's, but it was comforting, a little shelter where it felt safe enough to cry and cry until all his tears were spent. It was several minutes before he drew away from the other boy's embrace.

"S-s-sorry," he said, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his robes. "I d-didn't mean to get your robes wet."

The other boy smiled gently. "Don't worry about that. They'll dry. Are you feeling any better?"

Tadashi gave a little half-shrug. His bag was still heavy. The Potions teacher's dry voice and "Pathetic" still rang in his ears. He was still full of a cold he didn't think he'd be able to shake off by morning.

And the other boy was still smiling patiently.

"I-I-I c-can't get into the common room," Tadashi said. "And I've had a really bad day, and – and –" He bit his lip, trying to hold his tears at bay. This boy was a lot older than him. God, he wouldn't care about Tadashi's stupid problems – why had he even said that? I'm such an idiot!

But the boy didn't laugh at him, or mock him. He rubbed Tadashi's shoulder.

"Your throat alright? You sound a bit hoarse."

"Got a cold," he mumbled. The older boy squeezed his shoulder.

"Come with me. I think what you need right now is some food and a hot drink, yeah?"

Tadashi's stomach dropped at the thought of having to go up to the Great Hall now that his face was probably all red from crying, but he nodded anyway. It probably wasn't worth arguing the point, not when he wasn't sure he could talk without having another meltdown. He pushed himself to his feet and reached for his bag. It wasn't there, and for a moment he panicked – that is, until he saw it slung over the shoulder of the older boy.

"Oh – you don't – I can take that," he said, fidgeting his hands together.

The older boy smiled down at him – a nice smile, not a condescending one. "It's fine," he said. "I can handle it. Besides, it's pretty heavy, isn't it?" Tadashi shrugged, but looked at his feet as the older boy chuckled softly.

Now that they were both standing, Tadashi realised that this boy – and surely he had to be in at least his fifth year – wasn't actually that much taller than him. It was… well, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, it was kind of reassuring. This boy didn't scare him the way so many other people did, and that was a very comforting thing.

"Koushi Sugawara," the boy said, extending his hand. "Fourth year Hufflepuff."

"Oh," Tadashi said, accepting the handshake. "I thought you must be in fifth year. At least."

Sugawara laughed, and the smile that lit up his face was one of the most beautiful things Tadashi had ever seen in his life. "I get that a lot," he said, starting to walk down the corridor. He beckoned for Tadashi to follow him. "And you are? Sorry, I should know this, I see you in the Common Room all the time."

"It's fine! You don't have to – didn't! I mean… Um. Sorry." His face felt very hot again. "I'm Tadashi Yamaguchi. But… Yamaguchi's fine."

"Yamaguchi it is, then," Sugawara said. "Hey, let me show you something down here. I think you might like it."

"The kitchens," Sugawara said five minutes later, bumping shoulders with him gently. "Not bad, eh?" Faced with a room bigger than the Great Hall and bustling with activity, Tadashi couldn't think of a response, but before the silence dragged on into uncomfortable territory, something tugged at the knee of his robes. He looked down, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. It was a creature of some kind – something he didn't think he'd seen even in his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

The creature was tiny. If Tadashi were going to guess at what it was, he would say a very small, skinny goblin with much bigger eyes, a much squeakier voice, and an altogether nicer disposition than any goblin he had met thus far. It wore a tea towel and nothing else, and although it was very warm in the kitchens Tadashi had the overwhelming urge to go back and try and find it a jersey. And maybe some socks.

"May the house elves of Hogwarts help sir and Master Sugawara, sirs?" the creature squeaked, tilting its head back to look up at them both.

"Ah, yes, please," Sugawara said with a smile, crouching down to talk to it. "Could we get some dinner to have down here? And some tea with honey in it for Yamaguchi here, if it's not too much trouble?"

"Yes, sirs! Right away! No trouble at all, sirs!" it said cheerfully. "If sirs would follow Gussy, please!" And at Sugawara's nod, Tadashi followed the creature to a little table near a roaring fire at the other end of the vast hall.

"House elf," Sugawara said, once it had left and they were sitting down. "Delightful little things, and incredibly helpful. The run the kitchens and the laundry here – actually, they do most of the cleaning round here, I think."

"They're so tiny," Tadashi murmured, glancing over to the kitchen area where at least two dozen of them were scurrying around. "God, they're not even wearing much. Don't they get cold?"

Sugawara laughed. "In here? Not a chance. There's some interesting backstory behind those tea towels – but you're probably not interested, sorry." Sugawara glanced down, slightly red. "I'm maybe the only person in the school who's actually interested in History of Magic, and I go on a bit if no one stops me."

"No, it's fine!" Tadashi said hastily. "Actually… I wouldn't mind hearing more. I like History of Magic." He chewed on his lip. "It's one of the only subjects that's like normal – like Muggle school," he mumbled.

Sugawara perked up at that, and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table. "Muggle school? Are you Muggle-born?"

Just then, a barrage of house elves came over, bearing plates piled with steaming food, cutlery, a water jug and glasses, and in the case of one elf with extraordinarily large feet, a fully laden tea tray. After extending many thanks and receiving a dozen low bows in return, the house elves retreated and the two of them were left alone to begin their meal.

"So," Sugawara said after a few minutes. "Are you Muggle-born?"

Tadashi nodded, his mouth full of food. He was secretly glad for the excuse to stay mum – his throat had started to hurt again from talking earlier.

"Oh, it's nothing against you, my parents are Muggles too," Sugawara said. "Sorry, I was just curious. You must really be looking forward to going home for Christmas, then. It's a bit of a relief after four months of school, I'll tell you that much. Do you have any carol services where you're from? Or anything public? We've got a lovely tree in the town square, lit up every night from three weeks before Christmas, and –"

"Going… home?" Tadashi was so startled he didn't even think about how it was probably very rude to interrupt Sugawara. "W-w-what do you mean?"

"Do you not – oh, I suppose you might not." Sugawara leaned back in his seat. "Near the start of December, the Heads of House come around and ask who's staying here for Christmas. You can if you want, but most people go home, see their families." Tadashi's confusion must have shown on his face, for Sugawara quickly added, "On the Hogwarts Express, just like coming to school. And you'll get sent a letter telling you when you need to be back at King's Cross to come back – usually it's the Sunday after New Year's, but it'll say on the letter." He frowned. "Were you not planning to go back?"

"I… I didn't know if I could," Tadashi said, very quietly. "I didn't think I'd be able to. The teachers haven't ever said anything about it. No one else has, either."

"Drink the tea, it'll help with your throat," Sugawara said, pushing the tray a little closer to Tadashi. His frown deepened as he sat back, regarding Tadashi carefully. "You've got a point there, I have to say." After a few seconds, however, his face relaxed, and he poured a cup of tea for himself (the house elves having provided enough cups to make tea for four people).

"So. Sorry if this sounds a bit intrusive, but – what happened to make today such a horrifically bad day for you?"

Tadashi let himself smile a little at that. "Well, I had double Potions first period."

Sugawara's eyes lit up. "That doesn't sound good."

Tadashi smiled a little wider, took another sip of his tea – and the honey was remarkably soothing on his throat – and continued his story.

Epilogue: One Tuesday Later

Tadashi slid onto his seat next to Tsukishima, and kept his head lowered as he undid his bag to get out his Potions textbook.

"It's on your desk."

Tadashi snapped his head up to stare at Tsukishima, who looked very uncomfortable.

"Your Potions book is on your desk, so don't bother getting that one out of your bag."

Tadashi looked at his desk for the first time since entering the dungeon. There was indeed a Potions textbook there – identical to his own, except far from being dog-eared and a little stained, this one was impeccably new. He looked up at Tsukishima again, very confused. "But I – I already have this book."

Tsukishima let out a little impatient sigh. "It's – mm – ugh – it's not right."

"Sorry?"

"It's a bad edition."

Tadashi frowned. "It looks exactly like your one."

Tsukishima's face had gone an interesting shade of red. "Look, when my older – a few years ago, they released an edition of the book that had lots of printing errors. That's the edition you have. I checked it last week. The amounts of ingredients and things are all wrong. The one on your desk's the same edition as mine, and it's all correct, I checked it yesterday. It'll help, unless you're actually just very bad at Potions." The flush had spread to his ears as well, and he was staring very hard at the floor.

Tadashi's face broke into a delighted grin. "Tsukishima! Th–"

"Don't. Say it."

"Sorry, Tsukki!" Tadashi clapped a hand over his mouth. Oh no. Why did I call him that? And I have to sit next to him for the rest of the year this is awful why why WHY?

The teacher had finally come into the dungeon, and Tsukishima glanced at Tadashi once more.

"You can call me that if you want," he muttered. "I don't care."

The surge of happiness Tadashi felt at Tsukishima's words was matched again at the end of the lesson, when finally, for the first time in weeks, his potion looked how it was supposed to. (And he was pretty sure that Tsukishima had smiled when he saw Tadashi's cauldron.)