A/N: It would only be right to give you the first main chapter as well as the prologue to start off with, just so you can get a better sense of my original characters and how they begin integrating into the original storyline.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; those all belong solely to JK Rowling. Due to the nature of this story, sections of the text have been copied verbatim from the original text; the idea being that a ripple effect causes events within the universe to diverge from the original storyline. Being that this is the first story, everything is more or less canon, but as the stories progress, they will shift further and further away from the books. As for what I do own, I own the Drake family and all related characters.
DRAKE: The Philosopher's Stone
CHAPTER 1: Of Secrets & Sortings
The train ride was mostly uneventful for the Drake brothers; aside from a visit from the sweet cart (which they couldn't buy from because all they had on them was American wizard money) they were more or less left alone. Other students moved up and down the carriages, visiting each other in their separate compartments, but the Drakes took no notice as they discussed what they might expect when they arrived at Hogwarts, and what would happen when they got there.
Once or twice people looked into their compartment; the brothers didn't concern themselves to the attention they were receiving by passers-by. They didn't seem to notice this; although it must be said that they were quite a distinctive pair. The most immediate thing to be noticed about them was that they were identical twins. Each had an almost unnatural shade of platinum blond hair; Alex's was cropped short and neat, while Azriel had grown his out and was wearing it tied back into a ponytail with a thin black ribbon.
Their eyes were silver; a most unusual shade, one that made them all the more distinctive. These were the highlight of their faces; for they were sharp and angular, and all their other features accentuated the silver orbs. The boys were fairly tall and lean, as could be determined by their long legs.
It was getting dark when they were told that they were getting close to the school; so the boys changed into their new school robes. It was a bit tight trying to get out of the train after it stopped; a lot of people were trying to cram onto a small platform. Azriel and Alex tried as well as they could to stay together in all the hustle and bustle. A booming voice called out, catching the boys' attention.
'Firs' years! Firs' years over here!' An overly large bearded man was standing not far off, gesturing for the first years to come to him. Slightly wary, Azriel approached him, with Alex following closely behind. They found themselves being led down a narrow path down a steep hill; they were careful to not move too fast so they didn't fall over.
'Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec,' called the bearded man over his shoulder, 'jus' round this bend here.'
A lot of the new students made sounds of wonder when they saw a castle in the distance. Azriel wasn't so sure that was the school, and was looking around for another building. The only trouble was, he didn't see one which seemed to confirm that this castle was indeed the school. Alex had to make his brother focus on the path in front of him, because it suddenly widened out into a huge, deep lake. Azriel had almost walked straight into the water, having not paid attention to where he was going. Upon realising how close he'd come to the large body of water, Azriel jumped back in alarm.
'No more'n four to a boat!' The bearded man called, stopping everyone from walking. The Drake brothers looked closer at the water trying to see through the darkness; and sure enough, boats were floating on the shoreline waiting for passengers to board them. Azriel was extremely apprehensive being near the water, and Alex had to force him to climb into a boat. They were joined by a couple of female students, whom the brothers ignored as their boat travelled across the water. Azriel stared at the water around them, trying to relax.
What caught their attention before long was a set of tentacles emerging from the water. The bearded man cautioned them to be careful of the giant squid. Azriel went stiff as they waved around in the water, and he hoped with a vengeance that they didn't come too near the boat. They were approaching a cliff face, and the twins were beginning to wonder where exactly it was they were going.
'Heads down!' the bearded man sounded when they reached the cliff; it was then that the brothers saw the ivy curtain in the cliff face, so they bowed their heads as they passed under it. Behind the ivy was a dark tunnel; the Drake brothers strained to see in front of them.
The boats emerged in some sort of underground harbour; Azriel wasn't sure where exactly they were, but it was somewhat damp wherever it was. The students all unloaded from their boats onto the dock of rocks and pebbles. Azriel was glad to be out of the lake and back on solid ground; he allowed himself to relax as he got away from the water. The bearded man was checking on them as they climbed out of the boats.
'Oy, you there! Is this your toad?' Azriel looked over at the bearded man, who was holding out a toad. One boy called out, and collected the amphibian. That done, the bearded man turned and led them up a passageway cut into the rock and out onto a grassy area. They were right in front of the castle, as it turned out. Azriel was faintly surprised to find that it indeed was the school, as he had held onto his suspicion that there was another venue that had been hidden away from sight. They walked up a flight of stone steps, stopping right outside a large oak door. The Drake brothers half-pushed their way to the front of the group.
'Everyone here? You there, you still got yer toad?' The bearded man was addressing the boy from before, who'd lost his amphibian. The boy made a meek sound in response, so the bearded man turned to knock on the door with his oversized fist. Azriel counted three knocks. The door opened right away; on the other side of the door was a tall, black-haired wearing emerald robes. She had a stern look on her dace; clearly this was not a woman to be trifled with.
'The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,' said the bearded man.
'Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.'
The door was opened wide allowing them entry; the Drake brothers slipped inside, feeling very small as they found themselves in an enormous hall; it would probably fit three quarters of the Drake family manor, which was no mean feat given the size of their house. The ceiling was so high as to be undetectable, and the staircase was about the most ornate thing either of the Drake brothers had ever seen.
There was clearly a large gathering of students in an adjacent hall; however, the first years were led into another room; a lot smaller, Azriel guessed this room to be some form of antechamber. The room was fairly crowded; the Drake brothers felt a tad uncomfortable being crammed up so close to the crowd of children.
'Welcome to Hogwarts,' said Professor McGonagall. 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common-room.
'The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
'The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you; please wait quietly.' Speech finished, Professor McGonagall left the room.
'Sorting, huh?' Alex asked as soon as she'd left. 'Wonder what that could be?'
'I wouldn't know what to tell you. They'll probably read names off a list and throw us into houses randomly,' Azriel replied, straightening his robe and crossing his arms.
'Is that an American accent?' A girl with bushy hair and a slight case of bucktooth cut into their brief conversation. 'I've never met an American before.'
'Yeah; we're from New York,' Alex replied with a slight (and put-on) drawl. He looked mildly bored, but knowing his brother well, Azriel knew Alex was discomforted about the forwardness of this stranger.
'It was our mom's idea to send us to her old school. Otherwise, our dad was gonna send us to the New York Academy of Magic,' Azriel added.
'Oh, that sounds so fascinating!' The girl had a glint of excitement in her eye. 'Oh excuse me, I haven't introduced myself; how rude of me! I'm Hermione Granger.' The girl smiled at them; her buck teeth drew attention to themselves as she offered her hand for a handshake. The Drake brothers shared a glance and each gingerly obliged her.
'I'm Azriel Drake, and this is my brother Alexander,' Azriel said flatly. 'Identical twins, obviously.'
'My brothers are identical twins.' A redhead invited himself into the conversation. 'They're third years. They told me the Sorting is supposed to be painful.' The redhead grimaced. 'I'm not sure whether to believe them or not. Oh yeah, I'm Ron Weasley!'
'Mom didn't mention anything about the Sorting, did she?' Alex asked his brother.
'I don't think so; I would've remembered if she did. I'd never even heard of it til that McGonagall woman mentioned it.'
'Unless Mom mentioned it in the morning; and I know you're not a morning person.' Alex added privately to his brother. He had a smirk on his face as he looked at his brother, who scowled.
'I wonder if we have to know some magic,' Hermione spoke up again. 'I've read all of our school books from cover to cover, and I've learned all sorts of different spells...' The Drake brothers tuned her out as the girl started to ramble. Azriel could tell she was nervous.
'I don't think we'll be needing any magic,' Alex muttered to Ron, who was looking annoyed at Hermione who was now muttering to anyone who'd listen about all the spells she'd learned.
Alex unexpectedly felt a chill go straight through him and was surprised to see a ghost emerging in front of him as it passed through. Turning around, he saw a number of them coming through the wall behind him. A few of the girls screamed in shock; the ghosts largely seemed to be ignoring the students as they conversed with each other.
A small, stout ghost dressed like a monk was speaking animatedly; 'Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –'
'My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?' A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had noticed the first years; no one answered.
'New students!' said the Fat Friar, smiling down at them. The Drake brothers were wary of him. 'About to be Sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know.'
Azriel turned to speak to his brother but was cut off by a sharp voice; Professor McGonagall had returned. 'Move along now,' she said to the ghosts, who began to float through the wall into the next room. McGonagall directed her attention to the students.
'Now, form a line and follow me.' At her instructions, the Drake brothers fell into line with the other students. Not far ahead of him, Azriel could see Hermione, and further down was Ron, who was next to a boy with glasses, unruly black hair and a peculiar mark on his forehead. They were led out of the antechamber and into a much larger hall.
The room seemed almost massive; thousands of candles hovered in the air above four long rectangular tables. All the other students were sitting at these tables; the four houses each had their own, the Drake brothers could tell. Golden plates and goblets lined each table, as well as a fifth table at the other end of the hall. At this fifth table was the Hogwarts staff.
The first years were led over to this table, and stopped in front of it, facing the other students. Taking a good look at the room from this new vantage point, Azriel noted the ceiling; it was clearly a complex enchantment designed to look like the outside sky.
McGonagall bringing in a four-legged stool caught Azriel's attention; and he checked to make sure his brother had also taken notice. Sitting on the stool was a crusty old black wizard's hat. It looked patchy and faded, and unclean. Azriel shot his brother a look, as if to say 'what the heck is this?' There was a brief silence, which was broken by the sound of ripping fabric. The hat had split itself open like a mouth, and it began to sing in a slightly scratchy voice.
'Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave of heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means,
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!'
The hall burst into applause at the hat's song. Azriel and Alex just looked at each other with raised eyebrows as the hat fell silent.
'That's it? We have to wear a hat?' Alex muttered; McGonagall shot a quick glare at him, and the boy went quiet. The Drake brothers straightened themselves as McGonagall produced a long roll of parchment and stepped forward to address the students.
'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,' she said; getting straight into it with 'Abbott, Hannah'.
The Drake brothers tuned out the first few names as the line began to shrink. These first names bore new Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and at least one Slytherin and Gryffindor each. Before long, it was their turn.
'Drake, Alexander.' Azriel watched as his brother walked forward towards the stool and put on the hat. Alex sat for at least two minutes before the hat finally reached a decision. The students in the hall all seemed to be paying rapt attention to this Sorting ceremony as they awaited the hat's judgement with baited breath.
'SLYTHERIN!' the hat finally announced. Alex took the hat off and placed it on the stool. Down the line, Azriel could see Ron direct a minor glare at Alex as the boy passed.
'Drake, Azriel.' Azriel walked up to the hat and picked it up off the stool. He sat down, placing it on his head. It slipped down a little over his eyes and he had to re-adjust it so he could see the crowd and Alex joining the Slythern table.
'Didn't I just sort you?' the hat spoke into his ear. 'I don't give second opinions usually.'
You sorted my brother, Azriel thought dryly.
'Ooh, that would explain it!' the hat chuckled. 'You and your brother have very similar minds. So complex... you did notice how difficult it was to sort him.'
You can hear my thoughts? Azriel asked silently, shifting his eyes upward to look at the hat's brim. He felt self-conscious at all the eyes upon him.
'Of course! How else would I be able to see inside your head? By the way, I would find it easier to sort you with your brother to save me more hassle.'
Okay, what was so difficult about my brother? Azriel rolled his eyes and put on a bored look to mask his curiosity and apprehension.
'To make it quite simple, you could fit anywhere. You fit all the criteria of every house; one of the most rare and unusual things I have ever encountered! You possess the bravery of a Gryffindor, the sharp mind of a Ravenclaw, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff and the cunning of a Slytherin.'
Alex is way sneakier than I am. By the sound of it Slytherin seems like a good choice for him.
'Ahh, but you're just as capable as your brother for deviance and underhandedness, which makes you perfect for Slytherin. Would you prefer to be elsewhere?'
Well I could possibly do without the sibling rivalry, Azriel snorted quietly, and Hufflepuff is a wimpy name, by the way.
'Hufflepuff, a wimpy name? Brave words indeed; if they were ever to know what you think of their house name – well with that in mind, I think you'll be a good choice for – GRYFFINDOR!' The last word was shouted out for the entire school to hear. Azriel put the hat back on its stool and looked over at his brother and shrugged as he approached the Gryffindor table, pretending he was completely nonchalant and unaffected by the conversation he'd had with the hat. He was aware of the glare Ron was sending in his direction; Azriel sat himself at one end of the table that was less crowded where it was harder for Ron's glare to reach him.
Azriel watched the rest of the sorting quietly; Hermione Granger became a Gryffindor, and was quick to join Azriel and the other Gryffindor down their end of the table. Azriel perked up in interest when it became Draco Malfoy's turn.
Draco Malfoy was remarkably similar in appearance to the Drake twins, but Azriel could not think of any particularly good reason other than coincidence why this would be so. A glance from Alex showed he too had the same odd sense of familiarity. Draco was swiftly sorted into Slytherin, and the boy sauntered over to his table, sitting a few seats down from Alex.
Azriel found it peculiar when the hall burst into whispers at the name 'Potter, Harry'. He could hear people down the table from him muttering.
'Potter, did she say?'
'The Harry Potter?'
Looking over, Azriel could see it was the black haired boy with the mark on his forehead. Clearly from the way people were fervently muttering amongst themselves, there was something special about Harry Potter, but Azriel had never heard the name before and was completely in the dark as to his specialty. It annoyed him somewhat to be out of the loop.
Potter was announced to be a Gryffindor, and the rest of Gryffindor table roared. This, Azriel found even more annoying than the whispers given how close to the noise he was.
'We got Potter! We got Potter!' came the yell from a couple of red-haired twins – presumably the twin brothers that Ron had mentioned before. Before long, Ron himself was sorted into Gryffindor, and sat next to the Potter boy, looking flushed. He seemed to remember his snap dislike and mistrust for Azriel though, as he steadfastly refused to acknowledge the blond's presence at the table.
Azriel turned his attention to the staff table, now that he could see it properly. The half-giant man that had led them to the castle was sitting at one end of the table, with various teachers sitting along the length of the table. In the centre was a chair much grander than the others – this must belong to the headmaster, who was a wizened old man with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles.
As the sorting finished, McGonagall went to join her fellow staff at the staff table; her seat was next to the headmaster, who stood up to address the students.
'Welcome!' he said. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!'
Azriel blinked, his face blank. He raised an eyebrow and met his brother's eye from across the hall. Alex silently agreed that the old man seemed a bit mad. Just then, the plates were magically filling up with food so Azriel chose from the assortment of meats and vegetables, filling his plate and beginning to eat.
'That does look good,' said a slightly sad voice. Azriel looked up to see the ruff-wearing ghost watching Harry cut up a steak.
'Can't you -' Harry began to speak, but was cut off by the ghost.
'I haven't eaten for almost 500 years; I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.'
'I know who you are!' Ron piped up. 'My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!'
'I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –' the ghost began stiffly, but Azriel cut him off.
'Nearly headless? How come? It looks pretty securely attached from where I'm sitting.' Ron shot him a glare as if he was stupid; Azriel ignored him.
'Like this,' the ghost said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge; Azriel winced at the slight wet sound of the phantom flesh separating. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned look at some of the students' faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck.
'So – new Gryffindors!' The ghost's mood had improved drastically now that he'd instilled a little fear and wonder in the new students. 'I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindor have never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost.'
Azriel looked over; a ghost covered in silvery blood was sitting at the Slytherin table; right next to Draco, who did not look too pleased at this arrangement. The facial expression was not too dissimilar from what Alex might have made if put in the same position.
'How did he get covered in blood?' asked a sandy blond-haired boy with great interest.
'Something tells me we don't really want to know.' Azriel said flatly.
'You have a point there my boy, and I never asked.' Nearly Headless Nick replied, delicately.
The conversation around the table turned to more mundane subjects, so Azriel focused on finishing his dinner. When the students had eaten as much as they could, the dinner courses were cleared from the table only to be replaced with a wide variety of desserts.
Students started talking about their families; the sandy haired boy (whom Azriel learned was called Seamus) told of his half-blood status. Neville Longbottom (who was the boy with the toad) was raised by his witch grandmother but was suspected to be muggle until he got his Hogwarts letter. Seamus asked Azriel about his heritage.
'My brother Alex and I are pureblood. The Drake family, on our dad's side is one of the richest and most powerful wizard families in the entire USA, although I really don't like to brag.' Ron scoffed, but Azriel ignored this.
'I don't actually know too much about my mother's family, other than they were a pretty big pureblood family in these parts. I don't know why, but she doesn't like to talk about them.'
The others wanted to know more about his family, so Azriel filled them in on some of the smaller details of his family life when Harry made a noise of pain. Azriel glanced over, but nothing seemed to have happened to the boy; nothing Azriel could tell anyway. He chalked it up to a stomach ache – the boy didn't appear to have had a decent meal in a while. Harry was talking to yet another redhead - clearly another brother of Ron's - and it seemed they were discussing the teachers. Azriel looked up to see a black-robed teacher with a hooked nose and sallow skin glaring spitfire in Harry's direction. Azriel was intrigued, but he brushed this off as the headmaster stood once again to talk to the students. The hall fell silent.
'Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.
'First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.'
Azriel detected a twinkle in the headmaster's eye which suggested this comment was meant to be taken in good humour. Judging by the innocent look Ron's twin brothers suddenly took, Azriel guess this comment was aimed at them.
'I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.
'Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
'And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.'
Azriel raised an eyebrow at this comment. The headmaster was only serving to make himself seem more peculiar – Azriel wasn't sure whether this was just a character flaw or whether it was a conscious effort on the headmaster's part.
'And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!' the Headmaster finished. The other teachers' smiles suddenly seemed forced. Azriel blinked at the Headmaster's suggestion.
'I don't sing.' Azriel muttered under his breath. A few students nearby cast him odd looks as they prepared to sing.
The headmaster flicked his wand and out came a long golden ribbon which twisted over itself to form the words to the school song. Many students around Azriel began to sing random tunes; the noise was quite cacophonous, but Azriel stoically refused to open his mouth. Looking across the room, Alex was doing much the same. However, not many Slytherins were singing so Alex didn't look so out of place.
Azriel was relieved when the singing finally stopped – held up only by Ron's twin brothers singing a funeral dirge very slowly. The headmaster conducted their last few lines, and he was the one who clapped the loudest afterwards.
'Ah, music,' he said, wiping his eyes. 'A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!'
The Gryffindor first years followed the redhead prefect through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. Azriel could see Alex being led with the Slytherins down to the dungeons.
It seemed that it was taking an age for them to ascend the several staircases and traverse multiple hallways. Azriel was hoping they were nearly there when their progress was halted. Azriel saw a bundle of walking sticks floating in the air. The prefect took a step forward, only for the sticks to begin hurling themselves at him. Azriel raised an eyebrow in slight amusement.
'Peeves,' the prefect whispered to the first years. 'A Poltergeist.' He raised his voice, 'Peeves – show yourself.' A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
'Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?' There was a pop and a little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
'Oooooooh!' he said, with an evil cackle. 'Ickle Firsties! What fun!'
'I guess this is what a Cheshire cat would look like, if it was human and had bad hair,' Azriel deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest. The Poltergeist must have been annoyed that someone had talked back to him, as he swooped at Azriel, who calmly sidestepped the advance.
'Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!' barked the prefect. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.
'You want to watch out for Peeves,' said the prefect with a pointed glare at Azriel as they set off again. 'The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are.'
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink dress. Azriel eyed the colour of the dress with distaste.
'Password?' she said.
'Caput Draconis,' said the prefect, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it – Neville needed a leg up – and found themselves in the Gryffindor common-room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
The prefect directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase – they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: six four-posters hung with deep-red velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. The other boys began to change for bed, too tired to talk much.
Azriel changed quietly along with the others, and put some of his clothes away in his personal armoire ready for tomorrow. The other students must have been a little too tired to notice when Azriel removed three holsters from his belt. The first of these contained his wand – oak, 8.5 inches. Manticore fur core. Extremely well-balanced wand that could easily handle more difficult magic. Alex had a matching wand, only with maple wood instead of oak.
The second and third holsters housed a pair of long, thin Sai daggers. A gift from his father, who had begun training Azriel on how to use them despite his relatively young age, and he wore them wherever he went, concealed under his robes or a long black leather duster, whenever he was in muggle clothing. Again, Alex had a matching pair and was also being trained by the Drake patriarch in their use along with his twin.
Daggers and wand put away, Azriel climbed into his four-poster bed and drew the curtains. He lay in bed awake for about ten minutes waiting for his fellow students to fall asleep. When he was sure it was quiet, he reached out with his mind for Alex.
This was a secret trick the Drake twins had; one known only by their family back home. Azriel and Alex had a special connection as twins which manifested itself as a telepathic link; one that allowed them to read the other's feelings, to know where the other was at all times, and most importantly, to hear each other's thoughts.
'Alex, are you there?' Azriel thought, straining to make the connection since he was not used to how far away he was from his brother.
I'm here, bro. Where's your dorm?
'Up in one of the towers. How's the dungeon, cold?'
You'd be surprised. There's actually some sort of warming spell over the common-room and the dorms, so it's not so bad down here.
'So, what do you think of your classmates?'
They're all purebloods like us – but they're all brats at the same time. I'm not sure I'm gonna make friends too easily here.
'How sad.' Azriel's thoughts were not all that sympathetic, but more of a teasing jibe. 'I already have at least one enemy here; that redhead. Ron? He doesn't seem to like me too much. Probably jealous 'cause I'm rich and handsome and he's not.'
Don't flatter yourself. Although I DO admit freckles aren't exactly attractive – and it doesn't look like he has a patch of bare skin anywhere on his face.
'And the headmaster? What was his name – Dumbledore?'
He's mad. There's no other word that describes him. And you know how we're like with first impressions – we're usually right.
'Key word, usually.' Azriel scratched his nose, listening to the others breathing. 'What's up with the third floor corridor being closed?'
Your guess is as good as mine. Must be something dangerous there, if Dumbledore's giving us death warnings.
'You curious to know what's in there?'
I think I am, actually. It could be something majorly important, or maybe it's not. Either way, it doesn't sound like Dumbledore wants anyone to get too close to whatever it is.
'That makes me think it could possibly be something powerful. What could it hurt to look into it a little?'
I don't know, bro. We're here for school; not to go running off on adventures. We have a whole lifetime for that once we're Aurors.
'Lemme get this straight; you're curious yet you don't want to stick your fingers in. What a lame Auror you'd make.' Azriel stifled a chuckle in case any of his dorm-mates were still awake.
I'm serious Az, we should drop the idea for now – we only just GOT here. Maybe we'll find out more about it on our own during the year. I don't think we should concern ourselves with this anyway, I'm sure Dumbledore knows what he's doing with whatever it is.
'Whatever. Goodnight bro.'
'Night.
The Drake brothers broke the connection and settled down in their respective beds to sleep for the night. They began classes soon, and they needed to be prepared for whatever was ahead.
They had no idea just what was in store for them in the months to come.
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