Disclaimer: The Author of this work of FanFiction does not own any of the copyrighted works used in this work of fiction, inspiration and ideas are drawn consciously ( and sometimes unconsciously) from many places. Including but not limited to TV, Books, Comics, World News, Websites, Politics and many others. This author does not represent the interests or opinions of the original authors of these works.

The primary Authors note for the chapters of this story are located at the end. For those of you (most likely among the majority) who do not read the authors notes either before nor after the bulk of the chapter, this is for you.

Constructive criticism is appreciated and I look forward to it, however if you wish to "Flame" please do so in a clear and concise manner so as I can attempt to fix the problem.

"Character Speaking"

"Character Reading Aloud"

"CHARACTER YELLING"

'Character Thinking'

'Character Reading mentally'

Character Narration

Magic/ Spell use or Quoting

Section or Date / Title

And now, I hope you enjoy this chapter, Of Fakes and Frauds


September 6th,

International Waters,

Rett Pil,

Freight Cargo Hold.

"So, what am I supposed to call you," Veno asked as he pulled another stitch through what would be a pair of pants for his patient. He looked up at the kid who he had propped up on a sack of rice from the mess. Now, a few days later the kid was almost healed aside from a few patches of really bad burns he only had some slight redness. Shen wouldn't be to happy about him commandeering it of, when he found out that was, but as the saying went, It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

"I cant keep calling you Kid no matter how apt it is. I can call you little British or if you're so inclined, The Great Zucchini Fucker," he smirked at the kid. "But the rest of the crew, they won't be as understanding you see or as polite in coming up with a name."

Harry didn't respond to his questioning for a while, he, Veno the man who had helped heal him, was right. But he didn't want to be Harry anymore, Harry had been the dursleys servant and slave. But what should he choose, he didn't want anything too different, it just felt weird. Haele had sounded good but it had struck too close to home. There was a name he liked though but what was it, he knew he had read it in his history book, what was. "Adrian, my name is Hadrian," the newly christened Hadrian said in a slight rasp. his throat still a bit when he talked despite all the water he had drunk since waking up on this ship.

"Hadrian huh, where'd ya come up with that one, wee Hadrian," Veno asked while he continued sewing. "How'd ya figure that one."

"Istory book," he said, Finding it was just a bit too difficult to pronounce the H of the word.

Veno set the bundle of fabric on the table and extended the water bottle tube to Hadrian, "A history book eh," he thought for a minute as Hadrian drank then snapped his fingers. "Hadrian, built the wall that separated the Roman held territory from the wild lands of Britain, one of the Five Good Emperors, good choice kid. Though I think I'll call you Adrian for simplicitys sake." Veno smirked and sat back down to continue his sewing. "And what about the offer to work on the crew, the captain will likely come down around sunset to ask." Veno shrugged and shook out the pants to examine the stitching, "Just keep thinking about it, but don't get too comfortable yet, you need to try these on so I can make sure they fit."

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"Wow."

"It's different from this view huh kid," Veno asked him.

"Yea, different," he stared out at the vast ocean around him, what had been an unending surface that stood between him and safety was now simply a conduit for the ship he now traveled on. It was kinda cold though, despite the clothes Veno had made for him, it blocked a fair bit of the wind coming off the seas though so they weren't that bad. A poncho, Veno had called the shirt, coat, jacket, thing. The strange garment and a pair of pants that he could tighten with a drawstring were his only clothes, were now the sum total of his possessions. Hadrian rubbed the garments fabric between his fingers, he hadn't had anything of any true value before. These clothes were cheap and crude. To be sure, but they were his and they were leagues better than dudleys hand-me-downs, .

"If you're ready?"

Hadrians head jerked around to look at Veno, it took a moment for him to see his hand indicating a door that opened to where the ship was driven. Or as Veno had told him, the Bridge, it was time to meet the captain.

"Yeah lets get this over with," warily Hadrian stepped away from the railing and onto the bridge, Veno followed in behind him and shut the hatch.

The first absolute first thing his eyes were drawn to wasn't the instruments or the crewman, but the naked lady on the page of a magazine held by the man whom Veno had described as the Captain, Sergei Gavlik. The captain folded another page back and Hadrian saw another woman, not quite as newd but equally interesting, dressed in a thin black garment that didn't really cover anything up. Hadrian felt his face getting warm and hot but didnt know why. Loud laughing from behind him drew his attention away.

"Hehe, hey Cap, you wanna give the kid the talk or should I?" Veno laughed a little harder when he too a look the kids face, just priceless.

Sergei, finally noticing the newcomers to the bridge grumbled and put the magazine out of sight on the side of the chair. He waved them forward and looked Hadrian up and down, "Well you certainly look much better, ya looked like some kinda monster reject last time I saw you." he reached out and turned the kids head, and narrowed his eyes, " Healed up real well to," he murmured. Puting the thought out of his mind Sergei clapped and rubbed his hands together, "Well what do ya wanna do kid," he jerked his thumb at Veno. "Im sure this ukol already told you the offer so what's your decision, stay or go, what will it be? You should know, you'll have to earn your keep, I can't have a body on this ship just taking up space and this ships no daycare."

To Hadrian the choice was simple, he had no where to go, no one who wanted him, no one but himself. That was behind him though, no reason to dwell on the past, "If its alright with you sir, I would like to stay, I ave nowere else to go."

Sergei nodded to himself, "Figured as much, but I gotta know what you can do in order to place ya."

Hadrian rubbed his arms self consciously, 'I don't really want to tell them about the Dursleys though,' "Um, uh." A hand on his shoulder stopped him and he glanced up at Veno.

"Its ok kid, just tell him what you told me."

He straightened his back and stared the Captain in the eye's, "I am good at cooking, cleaning, mainet- maintenance, fixing things and sewing."

"Right." The Captain nodded and pulled his magazine back out," Veno, show the kid around the ship for now, but get him to Shen around four. Ill call down and let him know hes gonna have an assistant. We can shift him around for the next week or so, get a grasp on what he can do."

He lowered the magazine enought to look at them, "Dismissed."

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"Was that it," Hadrian asked and looked up at Veno as he was led into the depths of the ship.

Veno chuckled, "Yeah that was it, our Captain is a man of few words unless he feels the need to talk. That little scene back there was almost exactly the same as when I became a crewman, porno mag an all." Veno scratched his chin, "Though he usually has a porno mag at hand so dont be to surprised if you see him with it again.

Hadrian looked back down the corridor, his brow furrowed in thought. "But why didn't he ask anything else?"

Veno looked at him in confusion before a look of realization spread across his face, "Ah, thats what's got your panties in a bunch. See, something you gotta understand about this crew is that were pretty diverse, we each got our histories, past's and problems. Not all of them pleasant, so we try not to pry unless it can affect the safety of the ship and crew." Veno grinned and ruffled the kids hair, "You ain't the most dangerous thing on this ship, you can trust me on that." He stopped Hadrian an knelt to look him in the eye, "But get ready to see some stuff kid, serving on this ship can be an experience to say the least.


September 6th,

Great Britain,

Hogwarts,

Headmasters Office.

There were several habit's the man known as Dumbledore had developed over the years that he could use discretely when dealing with irritable situations. Stroking his beard, sucking on lemon drops special and normal, reminiscing on battles long past, or his personal favorite of using passive legilimency to read the hidden thoughts of those before him. For the situation he was facing now he had chosen to stroke his beard, it was a mannerism that made people believe he was concentrating on them intently. In this case he was imagining and mentally enacting the many ways he could dispose of Minister Fudge without being caught or suspected of the act.

"Where is the boy Albus! The public is in an outcry, they want answers and I need something to placate them!" Fudge exclaimed while he worried his little green bowler hat to death and paced over the office rug.

Despite the man's incompetence and ineptitude he had a point, but what could he tell this pompous blowhard that could placate him, his supporters and the public, that he had lost the boy? 'It may have been a bad idea to let the public know he was in my care,' he thought while he stroked his beard for the eighty fifth time since the meeting had began. "Cornelius you are simply getting too worked up over this matter," he beckoned to a comfortable chair in front of his desk, "please, sit; have a lemon drop."

Cornelius rounded on him, "I don't want a damn lemon drop or to sit down and calm down, I WANT TO KNOW WHERE HARRY BLOODY POTTER IS!"

Dumbledore sighed and subtly slipped his hand from his beard to his robe sleeve, "My dear boy, Cornelius-"

"Dont dear boy me, Dumbledore! I WANT-"

Enough was enough, he could feel the onset of a headache and this windbag wasn't helping. Quick as a whip he pulled out his wand and confounded the man in front of him causing his eyes to glaze over, "Cornelius, now that we are through with this Harry Potter business would it not behoove you to let me get back to my work, I have so much to do after all." The bumbling incompetent just stood there for a minute and Dumbledore had to wonder if he had broken the man at last. But alas just as a bit of drool began to escape the mans gaping mouth his eyes cleared and he stood straight.

"Yes, yes, you're absolutely right Albus, much to do much to do." And without further pondering or delay he threw some floo powder into the kamin and departed back to his little fiefdom at the ministry in a burst of green flame.

The man known as Dumbledore rubbed his face warily, he didn't need this scheiss right now.

"You are aware, you won't be able to keep doing that forever do you not. Despite, how amusing it may be."

Dumbledore glared up at the painting of the former headmaster, Phineas Nigellus.

"Be silent, I have no need for commentary from the dead." The painted man sniffed in disdain, unable to comment on the irony and hypocrisy of his words so he just walked out of his frame. The man known as dumbledore pounded his fist onto the desk, "You stupid verdammt junge, where sind sie!


September 6th,

International Waters,

Rett Pil,

Galley.

"So, you think you can cook boy, you think you can impress me enough to work in my mess?"

Hadrian just stared at the man, 'Is this guy real?' He thought, this little chinese guy with a buzz cut standing before him in the most ridiculous pose he had ever seen, like a cartoon he was. Arms crossed high over his chest, nose up and his eyes squinted they were damn near closed he looked the stereotypical chinaman if it weren't for the pristine white chefs smock..

From the galley hatch Veno laughed deeply,"Oh give it a rest Shen, theres no need to defend your turf." He came over and ruffled Hadrian's scruffy hair. "The kid's just getting evaluated, he can help you out so you have more time to make your pudding. Just set him to work doing prep, keep an eye on him though, I think you'll be surprised." Finished with introducing the two he left the galley with only a parting jest, "Just don't turn him to stew!"

Ignoring Veno's jest Hadrian just stared at the man until he relaxed from his exaggerated pose and he stared into the asian mans almond shaped, blue eyes. And stared, and stared, and stared some more until the man broke eye contact and began circling him. "If you are to be working in here there are rules you will follow, do you understand boy?"

"Yesir."

"Excellent, Rule Number one," Shen held up a single finger as he passed in front of him. "There will be no wasted food in my mess, almost everything has a use, as such you will prepare your ingredients in a clean and organised manner." As shen passed by again he held up a second finger, "Rule Number Two, you will uphold the strictest standards of cleanliness in this galley at all times, you will sanitize your equipment before and after every you use it and clean up after yourself when ever it is available to conserve time on the final clean up."

Shen stopped and looked him in the eyes again, he held up three fingers now. "Rule Number Three, if at anytime you injure yourself be it a slip of the knife or a bit of hot oil you will stop what you are doing, make sure no one else will be hurt and fix yourself. You will be an assistant, boy, not a liability. Do you understand me?"

Hadrian nodded his confirmation, "Yesir."

"Good," he clapped his hands and looked about the galley that Hadrian now realized was practically spotless. "For tonight we will start simple, peeling potatoes, chopping vegetables and tenderizing the meat."

"Is it a stew, sir?" Hadrian asked.

"That is Correct," Shen said," when the captain called down I thought something simple to start with would be appropriate, I have already cleaned and set out the ingredients. Clean yourself quickly and get over to the counter."

As Hadrian walked the short distance to the sink he took his time to examine the Kitchen, or Galley as it was called on a ship, in depth. He hadn't seen much of the ship so far aside from the hold, the deck and some of the quarters but the galley seemed different, it seemed in a sense new despite the obvious wear of constant use. But maybe it was the fact that all the surfaces, utensils and pans practically gleamed in the light. Quickly Hadrian washed and dried his hands and turned back around to face the island in the center of the galley and the piles of unprepared ingredients as well as a stack of clear tubs. Hadrian stepped up to the edge of the island but before he could even pick up the potato peeler Shen had appeared behind him and smacked his reaching hand.

"Hands, show them," Shen ordered quick and brief. Hadrian presented his hands and after a brief examination he deemed them satisfactory. "They are clean, however," he said and grabbed Hadrians left hand and flipped it to examine the palm more closely. "While working in my galley you will not be adding to-," with a disgusted grimace he jabbed his finger at several splotchy sections of skin and lines, "-these. Remember, Rule Number three, fix yourself when hurt, no exceptions, now let us begin." The man moved around the counter the stopped and pulled something out from a drawer in the island. "But first," he thrust a bundle of striped grey fabric into Hadrians hands and walked to the other side of the island, "put it on. Rule Number Three, Cleanliness."

Shaking out the fabric Hadrian saw that it was an apron and slipped it over his head, quickly tying the strands tight and stepped back up to the counter. Wanting to get started he reached to pick up the peller but stopped and glanced up to Shen for confirmation. With his quick nod of confirmation Hadrian picked up the peller and selected a potato and began peeling.

He started on the end and began turning the potato, cutting off a single long strand in the process. The strand broke several times in the process but he finished the potato in just under thirty seconds, he tossed the peel into a tub Shen had set out for that purpose. Then he moved onto the next, then the next, then, the next until all that was left was a tub of potato peels and peeled potatoes.

Shen, who had been preparing several small portions of the other ingredients picked up a peeled potato to inspect, "Good boy, very good," he set the potato back into its container, "you may prove to be a useful assistant yet. Now, your responsibility will to prepare the rest." Shen slid a tub and a cutting board with knife to his side, "I have prepared examples of how I want the ingredients, let me see how you chop."

Understanding that the man wanted to see for himself Hadrian's cooking abilities he looked inside the tub, 'diced parsley, easy enough,' he thought. Grabbing a handful of the greens he set them into a line then picked up the knife and tested its edge, sharp. Hadrian clenched his fist, holding it over the greens and held the knife just a hair away from his knuckles, then he began chopping. He cut with smooth, even strokes, as he moved his fist down the line of greens, keeping the knife just away from the skin.

Throughout the process Shen watched the kid, he knew his way around ingredients, there was no doubt. But why, did he know his way around ingredients so well. Cutting and peeling like the kid did took experiance. He would have to have Veno ask, no need to scare the kid off just yet.

Shen stepped closer to get a closer look on how he did, "Good, good," he tossed the freshly diced parsley into the tub. "Just do as I did with the rest of it all and wash up, I should have something for you then. Chop chop, we've got twenty smelly assholes to feed in an hour and were gonna do it well."

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Sure enough, within an hour the smell of a Hearty stew was drifting throughout the corridors of the ship, drawing those who were off duty to the Mess. "EYY SHEN, WHAT IS THE FUCK, YOU PUT SAUCE IN THIS? IS BETTER THEN REGULAR!"

Shen's head snapped around and fixed his eyes on the source of the belligerence, "OH SHUT IT OLOF, I AINT PUTTING BOOZE IN MY FOOD SO STOP ASKING!" Shen shook his head and ladled out another helping of the stew to the waiting crewman, "that dumbass".

He scanned the crowd, watching the crew scarf down soaking chunks of bread and spoons full of stew. 'It wasn't me that made the stew idiot', shen turned to look at the kid that had been pulled aboard. Hadrian, Veno had called him, a fake name if his delayed reactions to it were an indication. While Shen had been the one to set out most of the things for the meal, it had been the kid who had followed his instructions and finished it while he had been doing prep work for the next days meal's. He was sitting at the now clean island counter, just staring into space and doodling on a bit of scrap paper while he ate, the kid sure had some problems but seemed to handle them in his own way. Shen sighed and shook his head, wondering just what kind of messed up home the kid had been in.

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"Well," Shen dried his hands on a towel before tossing it onto the counter, "you did good kid." He crouched in front of the kid, "You did a good job and," he shook his head," you somehow made my plain old stew taste better than I can remember. Keep going and youll put old shen out of the job," he out his chest and sighed dramatically," oh woe is me."

"But seriously, good job kid, Little Adrian."

Hadrian wanted to grumble but held himself back, 'Should'a picked something else.' Apparently the name Adrian was fairly common in northern countries. So when shen had introduced him as his assistant and that Hadrian had been the one to cook the meal, some wise ass berk had titled him Little Adrian. The name had unfortunately stuck among the crew.

"But seriously, good work kid." Shen clapped his assistant on the shoulder a few times, "Unfortunately, I won't need you tomorrow so Veno'll probably have you working somewhere else to see how you do. Don't worry though, i'll get you day after next and we can mix something up a bit more challenging. Now get along to wherever you're staying," he led the kid to the door. "I'm gonna finish cleaning up, you probably need your rest, get along to bed."

Hadrian glared at him for a moment at the condescension. However mentally, he had to admit he was beginning to feel the day so he hurried his way down to the hold for what would hopefully be a good nights sleep.


September 6th,

Great Britain,

Hogwarts,

Headmasters Office.

With a resounding crack of displaced air that rattled shelves, the man known as Dumbledore apparated into his office, in the process bringing the smell of fish and other offal that stuck to his clothes. With a disgusted grunt he waved his wand, vanishing the pungent and putrid smells before sagging into his chair.

Another dead end and another late arrival. Eight long range apparitions both ways, two more than the previous time. Perhaps it was time to make a portkey to the Dark Continent, just for expediency's sake. Albus drummed his fingers on the desk in frustration, the boy was always just out of his reach, always leaving long before he even got the notification. Pounding his fist viciously on the desk once he yanked open a drawer and pulled out a sheaf of parchment, just one more factor to add to his calculations.

It had become glaringly obvious to him early on that the boy was still at sea, it was the only possibility really. But it was only after following the tracking charms he had placed on the boy a fourth dead end that he had realized the boy was on a ship. A muggle merchant ship most likely as there was little chance someone with tracking charms would be allowed onto a magical merchant vessel, no matter a captains incompetence. No, the boy was on a muggle vessel, he was sure of it and despite this latest failure he had another clue. The trick was that he just had to get ahead of the boy before he made land, or close to it at least so he could get to the boy before he moved. The third location he had tracked the boy to had just been an area of sea shallow enough for the tracker to hit the closest leyline though so predicting an spot to wait for him became difficult.

With an absent minded wave of his wand a sheet of parchment shot out of the stack and enlarged into an immensely detailed map of the world. To many it could be considered a work of art and in a sense it was. The Map known only as that, had been a collaboration piece between Leonardo Da Vinci and an alchemist whose name had been lost to time. The highest pinnacle of cartographical work to likely ever be made, one of a kind and only he had access to it.

It showed the entire surface of the earth and could be shifted into the spherical form of a globe with but a touch of the wand. Ocean depths, coastlines, mountains, elevations, deserts, temperatures, leylines, cities known and unknown, magical and mundane, everything that was and is. It was self updating in a way he only knew to be similar in the Marauders Map which had been tied into the very warding system of the castle. He suspected The Cartography though, as he had come to call it, used the very ley lines of the earth. He had tried, on several occasions, to unravel its secrets but the method of its creation and innerworkings always eluded him. It had been invaluable during his campaign sixty years ago, but that was also the reason he had hesitated to use it, the thing just reminded him to much of the war.

With a casual flick of his wand a flag emblazoned with a 5 inked itself onto the parchment and a line connected itself to several others. The beginnings of a pattern, a path, or more accurately a shipping route. Coastal ports and locations near the coast were marked, flick of his wand sent several pages of parchment to hover alongside the flags, details and information he had gathered on each location. Yet another piece of the puzzle was forming, he just needed to predict where the next piece would appear and he would have the junge! Dumbledore stroked his beard absentmindedly, there were of course precautions that would need to be taken when he succeeded in re-attaining his wayward student. Obligations and compulsions that would need to be cast, bindings re-tightened. The boy was certainly getting the short end of the stick, Dumbledore honestly and truly couldn't blame the child for wanting to escape his prophesied fate. But despite that it was all for the greater good of all magic kind, after all what was the life of one versus that of the world.


September 7th,

Great Britain,

Hogwarts,

Great Hall.

On the morning of her first Friday at Hogwarts Hermione wanted to skip down the hall in excitement as she was about to have her first Transfiguration lesson. It was just so exciting to her, being able to turn one thing into another, even if it was only temporary was simply amazing, although she had read transmutation through alchemy was permanent.

She shivered in excitement, she couldn't stand the wait as she scarfed down her breakfast a bit too quickly. From what she had read it was one of the more universal uses of magic, next to potions and charms.

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/-=-=-=-=-\

Hermione pulled the handle, it stuck and didn't open. She tried again to the same effect, still nothing. She sighed and set her book bag to the side and gripped the door with both hands and put a foot to the stone doorframe and pulled. With a low screech of grinding metal the door popped open and she fell bottom over top.

Hermione scrambled to her feet quickly and glanced around to check if any had seen her fumble. Hermione let out a breath of relief, the coast was clear, she quickly padded herself down of any dust and entered the classroom.

Immediately, Hermione noticed the lack of other students and the lack of teacher, she glanced around trying to figure out if she had the wrong room when she spotted the cat that stood out near the front of the classroom, past the desks and cages littered about. The cat that was sitting atop a stool, the cat that looked an awful lot like Professor Mcgonagall did when she had transformed. Hermione raised her eyebrow in confusion; A cat, that had now raised his paw to its mouth and made a shushing noise. An, all too human, gesture. "Prof-Professor Mcgonagall, is that you," Hermione asked.

The cat narrowed its eyes and pointed a paw at the desk on the right side of the room. The message was obvious, sit down and be quiet.

Hermione hurried over to the desk and sat, and waited in an awkward silence until she pulled out her transfiguration book, to a meow of approval from the cat.

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By the time the final bell rang most all the seat in the class had been filled and a low murmur echoed in the room. Most of it about where the Professor or Harry Potter was, lunch or other tripe, the other muggle borns however either wisely stayed silent or didn't know Professor Mcgonagall was in the room with them and were just smart enough not to talk out of turn in a classroom. For several minutes everyone just whispered among themselves, that was until the smartmouth before the sorting ceremony opened his mouth again and drew everyone's attention to himself. Hermione tried to ignore him and continue reading but he was just too loud and what he had the audacity to say shocked her.

"Pft, the Bint's likely been sacked for how she treated me last night, my father wouldn't have let that go unpunished!"

Hermione whipped her gaze back to the cat to see its eyes narrow into slits and dig its claws into the seat of the stool, 'What an arsehole, is he trying cock up on purpose!'

But before the the fool could bury himself any deeper the cat leapt off the stool, sending it to the floor with a clatter, and transformed mid air. Professor Mcgonagall appearing in front of the boy seemed to shut him up, she was almost red in the face when her hand snatched out lightning quick and clamped down on the boys ear. "Mr. Malfoy, would you please repeat what you just said," she spoke slowly as if to ensure the boy couldn't misunderstand. "I do not believe I heard you correctly."

"I-I, but you," the boy obviously didn't say what she wanted as she pulled him from his chair by the ear and dragged him down the row of desks.

Professor Mcgonagall ranted as she left the room with a squirming boy pulled behind her, "Never, NEVER, I swear in all my years as an educator!" Then the classroom door slammed shut and the class was silent, Hermione just shook her head in amazement at the stupidity she had witnessed and went back to reading.

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Minerva slammed the door behind her and jerked on the ear she was holding, eliciting a sharp yelp from the pompous little whelp. "Never, in over forty years as an educator has a student shown a much disrespect as you have shown before you even began your first class." She jerked again on the ear and she pulled the arrogant little brat down the stairs toward the dungeons, "Never!"

A hand batted at her arm, trying to dislodge it from the ear she held so she pinged it tighter, "OW, Unhand me this instant woman. When my father-"

Minerva scowled and jerked on the ear again to elicit another yelp while continuing her march into and through the dungeons, "You don't have to worry about your father hearing about this because I will be calling him and your mother here for a meeting. I wonder what he will think when he learns his son has set the school record of causing trouble!"

Draco stilled at the thought but this only earned another pull on his abused ear, he fumed at the embarassment but silently dreaded what father would do.

Minerve stopped at a door and pulled it open a crack to peek her head in, "Professor Snape could you help me with a matter involving one of your snakes, it will only take a moment."

She stepped aside and seconds later the door was pushed open and the Potions Professor stepped out.

Severus took a single glance at the hold Minerva had on Draco's ear and assumed his godson had done something dunderheaded. "I presume he has done something?"

Minerva jerked on the boys ear one more time before letting go, "Teach him his manners, or ill let Mr. Filch teach him." She turned on her heel and made her way back to her classroom, "He could finally use those chains of his."

Draco stared after the woman hatefully and turned to his godfather but as he did he felt a light smack on the back of his head. He looked up at the Potions Master, "Bu- But why?"

Severus just scowled at Lucius's son, "I am not sure what you did but now is not the time. Go back to the dorm." He said tersely and smacked the whelp aside the head when he was about to complain. "I do not care for your excuses right now," he pointed down the hall toward the Slytherin dorms, "go."

Draco glared at him then turned and stalked away, wondering just what he had done wrong.

Severus sighed and wondered just how Lucius could have buggered up that child so badly before re-entering his class and already preparing to yell at some dunderhead or another.

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Several minutes later the Professor re-entered the classroom, sans a blonde haired loudmouth. Everyone noticeably sat up straighter under her gaze as she began taking role of the class, each called student identifying themselves with a raise hand and a call of; Here..

Unfortunately there was an absence, a Gryffindor to make it worse, Ronald Weasley.

"Has anybody seen Mr. Weasley," Professor Mcgonagall snapped.

"Um he was in the great hall still eating last I saw of him professor," a Gryffindor boy by the name Seamus Finnigan answered. Several other students nodded, backing up the report.

Mcgonigals lips pinched into a thin line. "Very well," she pulled out her wand and silently cast a spell of glowing yellow at the door and continued her roll call.

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It was by the time the class was halfway over that hermione had decided Transfiguration was likely to be her favorite subject. The very Idea of transforming one thing into another was just so radically different to anything the muggle world, so different than what she had thought possible that it drew her in. Sure, the things that were transfigured wouldn't stay like that forever but still, something like that could be used for temporary applications in conjunction with so many other things. However the class was interrupted by the arrival of a boy that she had decided in no uncertain terms would be a village's idiot when he got older. Ronald Weasley, a boy whom she couldn't decide was an incompetent or an idiot or both. It was a very judgemental of her as she hardly knew the boy but the way he was trying to enter the class unnoticed was just, well, idiotic.

Frankly she could now understand why Fred and George disliked him so much.

As he had tried to sneak in a shrill screech from the door hinges killed any chance of entering silently and without notice. As all heads were drawn to the noise and Ronald was pinned by the gaze of over two dozen pairs of eyes. One of which belonged to a particularly irate Minerva Mcgonagall. She slowly rose from behind her desk with her palms on the desk surface. Unblinkingly she stared down her nose at him, "Mr. Weasley, how good it is of you to join us, I do hope you enjoyed your lunch Hour."

Ronald gapped at her for a moment while his brain un-froze, "Ah Prof- Professor Mcgonagall, im sorry but I got lost and couldn't find the classroom," he tried to excuse himself but even everyone could tell the Professor wasn't buying it.

Minerva smiled slightly, "Is that so Mr. Weasley? Please, dont be afraid to correct me if I am wrong but did your brothers not give, what I have been told, was an excellent tour of the castle?" She tilted her head to the side, coincidentally, much like a cat would and continued to glare unblinkingly at the fool. "Or is it that you simply did not attend it and chose to sleep in and missed it? I really do have to wonder though how hard you looked seeing as the great hall is only several corridors away."

He tried to come up with an excuse but fell flat trying to think of anything that could possibly appease the obviously irate Professor.

"No matter Mr. Weasley, we shall discuss your tardiness in length at the after class," with a swirl of her wand she transfigured the stool she had been perched upon in cat form earlier into a quite uncomfortable chair desk combination. With a critical eye Minerva eyed Ronalds uniform, "Now sit, and a detention for improper attire and not a having your hat." With a sharp jab of her wand a hat in the shape of a cone appeared on her students head, it was brilliant white, tall with a large red and gold D emblazoned upon it. She cast a sticking charm on it to keep it in place, "Much better, Mr. Weasley. Now," she pointed sharpy at the chair," sit, you are disrupting my class."

Hermione let out an uncontrollable giggle at the obnoxious dunce cap the boy now wore, Professor Mcgonagall certainly seemed to be creative in her punishments. Yes, this was likely become her favorite class.


September 20th,

Off the coast of Spain,

Rett Pil,

Galley.

With a heave Hadrian lifted dropped the last burlap sack of canned food and perishables onto the island counter of the galley. He wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and leaned against the counter to catch his breath. He looked at the dozen or so similar bags and silently marveled that he had been the one to bring them all the way to the galley. It seemed a regular diet combined with all the work had been fairly beneficial.

"No passing out, no dieing in galley, assistant boy."

Hadrian slumped, bumping his head against the steel surface of the island but perked up when Shen set out a folding chair for him to sit in. Staggering over to the uncomfortable metal contraption Hadrian lowered himself into and rested his burning legs and back. It hadn't taken him to long to adjust to working on the Rett Pil, mentally that was, physically was another thing entirely. Almost every night and some mornings he practically collapsed onto his assigned bunk in physical exhaustion. It was usually a dull burn or ache that permeated his body. It wasn't bad though, he was getting paid for one thing and after a working for over a week aboard the ship he had made more than he had ever been allowed to have at Casa De Dursley. A soft clink on the the islands surface in front of him drew his attention back to the real world. A small bowl and spoon were the source, but it was the steam and enticing scents wafting out of the bowl drew him in. He leaned over and inhaled deeply the smell of vanilla and almond. Hadrian glanced up at Shen who was now standing on the other side of the island, "The Risalamande?" Shen simply nodded. Hadrian inhaled again, he could almost feel his body loosening, "I thought you hadn't finished it yet," he asked.

"Not finished, sample batch, need more almonds."

Hadrian simply nodded, in the short time he had been helping Shen in the galley he had noticed the asian man would sometimes get into a mood. Happy, sad, angry; Hadrian did not know but so far it had happened twice and both times Shen had decided to do something new. He also started slipping in his english, talking in short, brief sentences which had made working with him a little dull. Case and point, the rice pudding he was working on. The rice pudding shen made was apparently a crew favorite, but for one reason or another Shen had gotten in a mood and decided to change it. The Risalamande a French slash Danish version of rice pudding was the result. He just didn't have the ingredients to make large batches, yet. Hadrian picked up the spoon and scooped out a portion of the desert. He blew on the still steaming blob and bit down on the creamy confection. Slowly, savoring Hadrian tasted the pudding, taking mental note of each flavor. "Its very good, but," Hadrian frowned trying to place the taste correctly, "a bit too much vanilla."

"Hnn, thought as much, hand slipped on bottle, to much spilled, no use being wasteful though." Shen frowned, "Finish up," he checked the clock on the wall that had the ship time, "you have twelve minutes break, then yourself up. Meatloaf tonight, shouldn't take long to prepare, sooner start sooner finish."


The Deceptive Passages of Time

It was through the trickery of time that nigh no one but the hyper observant and those that studiy it ever notice. But soon enough weeks had passed for two people in a relative monotony and normality, for the two people whom it should never have.

On a ship that traveled the seas and the oceans the induction and presence of a new, if irregular crewmember became common place as the boy who called himself Hadrian, with no last name. learned to make his own way in life and began to emerge from his protective shell of apathy and began to heal.

But hundreds if not thousands of kilometers away in an ancient castle hidden deep in the depths of scotland a young and optimistic, if slightly pessimistic, girl by the name of Hermione Granger had discovered she had an amazing capacity to learn and perform magic. She had learned to harness a power inside her that, almost literally in her opinion, spat in the face of what she had known to be the absolute and undeniable laws of the world.

Both children had sudden life altering events happen to them in close succession, but this was only the prelude. For it would be on the night of All Hallows Eve that things would truly change for them, and in the process there will be paths that will open and paths that would close forever that neither ever knew existed. For one it would be a fairly demure and quiet affair filled with irritation and fun, but for another it would be something that would break them and cause them to reconsider all they knew.


Translations

{English translation} : {What it is being translated to} : {Translated word or phrase}

Prick : Russian : Ukol (укол)

Boy : German : Junge

You stupid goddamn boy, where are you! : German : You stupid verdammt junge, where sind sie!

Goddamn : German : Verdammt

Are You: German : Sind Sie

Straight Arrow : Norwegian : Rett Pil


Authors note 2,

AHHH, I like this chapter much better now. Just doesn't feel as rough. Also If you have noticed I have moved a chunk the chapter and made it into its own chapter. Yep, thats right. The transition just didnt feel right, it just felt forced. I may put it back, or not. Tell me what you think.

KiDz


(Old) Authors Note,

Again I dont particularly like parts of this chapter, they just kinda chafed me a bit. Would have had this finished a few days ago if not for the Super (disappointing) Bowl, Life, Going back to work, but I am halfway through with the next chapter so it should be of a decent length as well.

In conclusion I hope you like enjoy the Sochi construction Olympics, Which Hotel will be finished first and who of the media staff will earn the tetnus award?

Have A pleasant weekend,

KiDz