You know the drill.

I don't own House of Anubis or Harry Potter.

I wish I did. Oh, how I wish I did. (-_-)

Chapter Four: House of Truths

Fabian's POV:

With an unpleasant stomach-turning sensation and not being able to see clearly due to soot being everywhere, I somehow did manage to emerge in the same place as Harry did – inside the entryway to Gringott's Wizarding Bank. (A/N: I can't remember/don't know if/where the Weasley's said they came out in Diagon Alley from the Floo Network, so don't kill me.)

"Uh… Mr. Potter?" I asked, looking around at my new surroundings.

"Yes, Fabian?" he answered.

"Why is this happening?"

The only answer he gave me was a chuckle, and then I heard someone's footsteps behind me before feeling a tap on the shoulder. I jumped.

"Sorry!" It was Nina. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared," I told her.

"Of course you weren't."

Once everyone had emerged from the fireplace and McGonagall caught up with us, we exchanged our British Pounds for Wizarding coins and stepped out into the bright, sunny, snow-covered streets of the not-so-bustling Diagon Alley.

"Shall we head over to Ollivanders?" Professor McGonagall asked after we'd stared wide-eyed at the sights for five minutes.

We all muttered 'Oh,' and 'Right… yeah,' before walking down the street to the wand shop.

Once inside, I felt like I was in one of the films. It looked exactly like the wand shop pictured in the books, and portrayed in the films.

"Wow," Nina muttered, taking a look around as we all filed into the small room. "Just like the movies."

"Can you read minds?" I asked her. She gave me a weird look.

"I don't think so… Unless I've developed some other weird Chosen One powers I'm not aware of. Why?"

"I was just thinking the same about this shop looking exactly like the one in the films."

Just then, we saw some movement behind the pay counter. Mr. Ollivander appeared, glasses and all, and took a good look at all of us.

Before we could muster up anything to say, Harry started talking.

"Mr. Ollivander, sir," he greeted the shopkeeper. "These are… exchange students." He made a wide gesture to all of us and we nodded in agreement.

"Ah," the man said, shaking Harry's hand. "My dear Mr. Potter, these are no exchange students."

We all stared at him, and it was as if someone had put a silencio spell on the place, because no one made a single sound.

"We–" Nina began to tell him who we were, but he cut her off.

"You're Nina Martin," he said matter-of-factly. "And you're here with your housemates from Anubis House School – Fabian Rutter, Patricia Williamson, Amber Millington, Mick Campbell, Alfie Lewis, Jerome Clarke, and Joy Mercer."

If our eyes could have gotten any wider, they would have popped out of our heads and we'd all be blind. I opened my mouth in protest, but quickly shut it when I couldn't think of anything to say.

"How do you know?" she asked, looking exactly how I and everyone else felt: bewildered.

"My dear," he started off, going over to the shelves and picking up wand boxes. "I know everyone who comes through that door, but I was alerted of your arrival years before you even thought of going to Anubis House. You see, you are quite remarkably like Mr. Potter, here" –he pointed at Harry, who smiled and waved– "in the sense that you and your friends are very, very special. You are also, dare I say, very important for the Wizarding World to have under our wings."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Patricia asked, crossing her arms. "We didn't even get our flipping letters until last night!"

"I'll take it from here, sir," Harry said quietly. He twiddled his thumbs, and the look in his eyes told me he didn't quite know how to say what he had to. "You see – Nina," he turned to face her. "You're not normal."

"I know," she replied flatly.

"No, I mean," he took a deep breath, smoothing out his hair. "I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject, but… do you know how your mum and dad died?"

"In a car accident," she answered. "It happened when I was very young. Why?"

"More importantly, how did you know about her parents?" I asked.

"Nina. I'm sorry to say, but… Your parents didn't die in a car crash."

The look of utter horror on her face made my stomach lurch and tears almost form in my eyes. I stepped closer to her, cautiously putting my arms around her.

"W-what do you mean?" she asked, a single tear escaping and trickling down the side of her face. "My gran told me… Everyone else said–"

Now McGonagall was the one talking. "They were killed by–"

"Let me guess: Voldemort. Am I right? No?" She looked at their grave faces, and then she turned to me and the rest of our housemates. "Well who?"

"Miss Martin, please calm down! Your mother and father were killed by someone unknown, but their murderer is long dead. They were targeted for death because you are and your parents were the only living distant relatives of Sarah Frobisher-Smythe's family."

"I'm sorry, Nina," Harry whispered. "I know this is hard for you. I didn't find out about how my parents were killed until I was eleven, but you're fifteen… I can imagine the intense grief and anger you're currently feeling."

I don't even know if she heard his apology, because when I stole a glance at her after glaring at the two adults, Nina just looked utterly stunned. I saw silent tears rolling down the side of her face and hitting the floor of the small shop. Amber moved out of the group and silently made her way over to us, putting her hand on her best friends' shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Nines," she said softly.

"This explains my connection to the House," Nina said quietly, her voice shaking. "And it explains my connection to Sarah."

"It explains why you're The Chosen One instead of me," Joy put in. we all glared daggers at her. "What?"

"Um, excuse me…" It was Mr. Ollivander, holding nine long rectangular boxes. "May I measure your wand arms now?"