Theo woke Daniel up on his way out again. Very glad he had washed the previous evening, Daniel sat up slowly. "Thanks, man," he said. "I'll see you out there."
"Right," his friend said, and left quickly.
Daniel got changed quickly, and hefted his schoolbag over his shoulders. He arrived in the hall just as the food appeared, and slid in between Theo and Blaise with a smile, ignoring Blaise shifting obviously away from him. "Good morning, dear friends!" he said warmly. "Are we looking forward to a delightfully uneventful Potions class this afternoon?"
Draco glared at him from the other side of Blaise, but Theo's grin more than made up for it. Crabbe, on the other side of Draco, glowered to match his leader. Goyle was over with Pansy and Millicent, trying to impress them by turning their juice blue and their cutlery slightly transparent. It was impressive, for Goyle, but it only got him yelled at, and he left the table in a huff.
Through breakfast, Daniel risked only one glance at Snape, then considered Dumbledore for a moment. The words he listened to every night ran through his head. Dumbledore will do right by the world, but Snape will do right by you. Daniel imagined Dumbledore treating him the way he treated Potter, and inhaled egg bits.
"Chew before swallowing," Draco reminded him absently.
"Thank you," Daniel said, as politely as he could manage, after he sputtered back into calmness. "I'll catch y'all up."
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, looking suspicious.
"To tell Dumbledore about all your plotting, obviously," Daniel said, rolling his eyes and heading over to the Hufflepuff table. He fished around in his bag as he walked up to Finch-Fletchley, trying to get his hands on the comic he'd borrowed for the summer and had only just remembered to return. The Hufflepuffs nearest him as he approached went quiet, and watched him suspiciously for as long as it took for him to hand the book over to Finch-Fletchley and thank him. Finch-Fletchley grinned at him apologetically, but didn't say anything to defend him to his housemates. The guy was a dweeb, but he had some cool stuff.
"Having a Muggle meeting?" Draco sneered at him as he caught up to them in the corridor.
"All I need is a decent sniper rifle and access to the Astronomy Tower one Quidditch match, and you'll never live to scorn Muggles ever again," Daniel told him. He could see Draco itching to ask what a sniper rifle was, but eventually he firmed his lips and walked ahead without deigning to ask.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Daniel only managed to force himself to walk with his housemates to his three-hour Charms marathon by constantly reminding himself that it would be four days until he had it again. Four long, glorious days of Charms-less and Defence-less bliss. Though from what he'd heard, Lupin was mainly teaching about dark creatures, with not so much spellwork to worry about. He was getting pretty popular, too, which bugged Daniel no end. Outside of Slytherin, you couldn't find a single person to say a bad word about the man.
Just because he called all the students by their first name, they thought he was their best mate. He called Snape by his first name as well, though, so it obviously wasn't a friendly thing. Just a controlling thing.
"What's on your mind?" Theo asked. "You're not looking happy."
Daniel stopped dead, and after a few steps so did Theo. "I am going to Charms," Daniel told him. "Then, I am going to stay back and take Charms again. With a bunch of second-years who'll be better at it than I am. I am unhappy."
Theo nodded. "Point taken," he said, and they kept on walking.
Flitwick announced that they would be working in groups of three and four from now on. Daniel knew it was for Theo, and couldn't be mad. Unfortunately, because they'd sat down before being told this information, the natural group for them to form was with Blaise and Daphne. The last thing Daniel wanted to do was give Blaise an hour-long close-up look at his complete inability to do a single charm.
His rescue came from a completely unexpected quarter, when just after Flitwick told them to close their books, he was approached by Longbottom and Morris. He looked at Theo, uncertain. His friend's mouth twisted, but he just raised an eyebrow and stayed quiet.
"Want to come?" Daniel asked him. If he was going to spend two, maybe three hours a week with Longbottom and Morris, he might as well start getting along with them now. He saw Theo consider leaving Blaise and Daphne closest to the Muggleborn Finch-Fletchley with a wicked little smile, but in the end he shrugged and shook his head. So Daniel gathered up his things and followed his fellow dunces across to the other side of the classroom.
He wasn't all that happy to learn that neither of their problems were the same as the one he had. Morris found it impossible to get a grip on the theory, and had to be talked through everything all the time. Longbottom couldn't really get any power behind the spells he cast, but at least he could cast them. They were both nonplussed by Daniel's complete block. He felt more useful than he did with Theo, though, because he could explain things to Morris much more clearly than Longbottom was able to.
When Flitwick came around, he nodded at them approvingly and mostly left them to their own devices.
Then came the moment Daniel was dreading. The moment when everybody else packed up their things and left the classroom, leaving him with a wimpy Gryffindor and a dopey Hufflepuff for company.
"Come up to the front, please," Flitwick said once the door had closed behind the rest of their year. Three pieces of parchment were in front of him on his desk. "Miss Morris, you have an accurate notion of your own strengths and weaknesses - an excellent composition. Ten points to Hufflepuff. Mr Longbottom, you paint an unhappy picture of your talents, and I think your negative mindset is much more of a problem than any lack of magical aptitude. Mr Livingstone," — here Flitwick gave Daniel a measuring look — "I don't think your own analysis was made seriously, but it may still have hit on a gem of truth that I don't think you should dismiss too quickly."
Daniel couldn't hold back all of his sour laughter. "Great," he said. "That's wonderful news."
"You may use this time either to sit in on my scheduled class, or to conduct your own private study," Flitwick said. "As you may remember, in second year classes alternate between theory and practical, and both Monday and Wednesday are dedicated to theory. You are, of course, welcome to attend Tuesday's morning class, but I can understand that such a time is not ideal."
"We've got Divination," Longbottom said, and Morris nodded.
Flitwick nodded his understanding. "Take your seats, please, and we'll start the class."
The second-years came piling in, loud and unruly. The three third-years got a few odd looks, but they were mostly ignored. Daniel noticed the Weasley girl sitting next to Eric Vaisey, the Quidditch-mad boy Draco was always complaining about. Draco tended to conveniently forget that he had pressed pretty hard for Quidditch selection in his own second year. On Weasley's other side was Goldstein's sister, who Daniel knew was in Ravenclaw like her brother. Looking around, he realised he couldn't actually see house groups he recognised at all.
He didn't listen to most of the lesson, being too distracted by the strange social setup. At one point he even saw Travis Urquhart, whose family was second only to the Malfoys in pureblood prestige, talking pleasantly to the Creevey boy, who had been targeted by Slytherin's monster last year as a Muggleborn, and was in Gryffindor, for heaven's sake.
As soon as Flitwick dismissed them Daniel was out of there, unnerved by his glimpse into a completely different, dangerously appealing world.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
"Hey, Potter, worked out the difference between clockwise and counterclockwise yet?" Daniel heard Draco say as they arrived outside Potions. Without a word, Daniel and Theo slowed, and stopped before getting anywhere near the tense knot of students.
"Hey, Malfoy, worked out how to make daddy love you yet?" Weasley retorted, and Daniel had to admire the crude effectiveness of such a taunt. Draco recoiled, and started to radiate anger as he rarely did.
"Oh, Weasley, that's a bit much coming from you. It's pretty clear whatever your parents wanted they didn't find in you. They stopped pretty quickly soon as Little Miss Weasley popped out, didn't they?"
Weasley's face darkened; Daniel supposed he hadn't noticed how mild an attack that was for Draco.
"Ron," Granger said, pulling in vain at his tense shoulder.
Daniel suspected everyone but Weasley was relieved when the door to Snape's classroom opened, inviting the class to enter. Theo led Daniel to a bench as far away from Draco as he could manage, and opened his textbook without a word. Snape was already bitching at Potter about something, and Daniel amused himself by watching Weasley turn red in silence as Theo went to collect the ingredients on the board. They had to rebrew a potion they had already covered, this year or previously, and they had to work it out using only the list of ingredients Snape had given them.
When Theo returned with the full tray, he started to mutter names of potions under his breath, scowling at the ingredients as none of them seemed to please him. Looking around the room, Daniel saw that Granger already knew and was talking excitedly to Longbottom about it. What she really should have been doing was petrifying him and sitting him in the corner where he couldn't mess it up for her.
"It's a physical effect potion," Daniel said, as Theo continued to mutter fruitlessly. "Look at what the ingredients do, don't try to remember the whole thing at once."
"Engorgement?" Theo asked him, face squinched up in doubt.
"I think it's hair raising."
"But there's nothing in there with strong enough regenerative properties," Theo said.
"Hair grows from dead stuff," Daniel told him. "So you actually want necrotic. Do you just Obliviate yourself after every exam, is that how this works? That's how you have enough room for the new year's information?"
"I think you're right, then," Theo said. "That explains the acid, anyway." He stopped, and stared at Daniel expectantly.
"What?"
"Are we going to start?"
"I don't remember how it goes," Daniel said. "I'd just be making it up as I went along."
"I sincerely hope not, Mr. Livingstone," Snape said from beside them. "I have prepared antidotes for mistakes made while brewing the potion, not for entirely new experiments."
"You know, with this setup I might be able to make — "
Daniel never got to finish needling Snape, as they were all distracted by a shout from Potter's bench. Snape whirled menacingly, and stalked across the room to them. Potter was milky-white, and Weasley looked constipated with stupidity. They were both standing, staring down at their workspace.
"What is going on here?" Snape asked, silky soft.
"N - nothing, sir," Potter managed, and sat back down. Weasley followed suit.
"Kindly do not interrupt my class for nothing in future," Snape said. He paused just long enough for them to think maybe he wasn't taking points, before smirking and continuing. "Twenty points from Gryffindor."
Daniel smiled happily, and followed Theo's tentative instructions, altering them slightly when they seemed too dumb, like when he suggested they desiccate the pomegranate after they had soaked it in the solution. It was a full twenty minutes before the next outburst from Potter. Theo was just about to start stirring when Potter kicked his stool out behind him, where it crashed into Granger and Longbottom's bench, scattering their halved beans and sloshing their solution into Granger's tools and the rat tails laid out in front of them.
Theo and Daniel both knew better than to look at Draco at this point. Daniel knew exactly the look that would be on his face anyway, so he merrily took the ebony stirrer from his friend and started the tedious process, forcing himself to ignore the furore happening a few benches in front of them. He didn't need to see what was going on to take vast enjoyment from it.
The upshot of Potter's latest mishap was thirty more points from Gryffindor, and five to Slytherin when Draco offered to lend Longbottom a wooden leveller to replace the one that Potter had ruined.
"Gee, I hope nothing else goes wrong today," Theo muttered to Daniel as he took over stirring. "Potter looks like he's going to kill someone."
Daniel shrugged. "We're three benches away," he pointed out. "Someone will be able to take him out before he gets to us."
"That is … not the point."
"Come on, the potion's working perfectly," Daniel said. "That's because we're geniuses, and geniuses are self-absorbed to the point of implosion, so forget them."
"I have no idea how your brain works," Theo said helplessly.
"You're assuming it does," Millicent said, not looking up from her work on the next bench.
Theo looked at Daniel and laughed. "Can't take it quite so well as you dish it out, huh?" he said, looking up at Millicent appreciatively. "Ten points for Bulstrode."
Daniel nudged at his elbow, making him jump and almost splash their potion.
"Mr. Nott," Daniel said, doing his best Snape impression. "I suggest you pay more attention to your work, and less to wooing your housemates."
"Don't do that," Theo said, more disturbed by the impression than he had been by the near-accident. "Or, if you must do it, do it to them." He jerked his head across at Brown and Patil the Gryffindor.
"Use my powers for good, not evil," Daniel agreed. "With you on that one. Maybe I should go as Snape to Hallowe'en this year."
"Don't do that," Theo said, eyes wide. "We'd never find your body."
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
They very nearly scored full marks for their potion, and considering Gryffindor lost seventy-five points and Slytherin gained thirty in total, it was really a very successful lesson, all things considered. Before walking out, the Slytherins all met at Draco's bench, ready to retaliate against any stupid move Potter and his party might make.
"You've got it coming to you, Malfoy," from Potter and a death glare from Weasley was all that transpired. Once all the Gryffindors had left the room Blaise and Daphne went their own way, and Draco, seeing this, took Pansy's arm and strode off, head held high. Crabbe and Goyle, at somewhat of a loss, decided to flank Millicent out of the classroom instead of Draco.
"Go on, I'll catch up," Daniel told Theo, who looked at him curiously but left without comment.
"Sir?" Daniel said, turning to where Snape was collecting things from his desk to put away before the next class. "Can I talk to you about something later?"
"Be more specific, Livingstone," he said, "About what, and when?" He stopped what he was doing and regarded Daniel with his arms crossed across his chest.
"Later today?" Daniel said tentatively. "I mean, just when you have some time." He could barely hear himself as he added, "Quite a lot of time."
"Come to my office at nine o'clock tonight," Snape said. "Now get to your next class."
"Yes, sir," Daniel said, relieved and more than ready to return to the real world.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Daniel hurried to catch up to his classmates, and when he did he saw that besides him and Theo, the only ones going from Potions to Arithmancy were Blaise and Daphne and Granger and Dean. He grinned to see Blaise and Daphne walking so far ahead of the two Muggleborn Gryffindors. He was less happy to see Theo with them, but he'd told Theo he'd catch up with him so he grinned widely at Dean as he jogged past him to join the Slytherins.
"Wassup," he said. Blaise started to walk even faster. Daphne rolled her eyes and followed him, so Daniel slowed with Theo to wait for Dean. And Granger, he supposed.
"I didn't expect you to be taking this," he said to Dean. "No Seamus?"
Dean shook his head. "He's already taking three others," he said, sounding slightly exasperated. "And he hates maths."
"I was surprised to see him taking Muggle Studies," Theo said conversationally. "He never really struck me as the type."
"You're hardly the type yourself," Daniel pointed out.
"Livingstone!" Dean said in false outrage. "You're not judging a student by his Sorting, are you?"
"You should have seen the second years in Charms," Daniel began, but then they turned the corner and just caught sight of Blaise and Daphne entering the classroom. Granger hurried forwards, exclaiming about being late, and they followed on her heels, if not quite so anxiously.
Vector was standing at the front of the classroom tapping her foot and glaring at them. They sat as quickly as they could, and Daniel was relieved to not be next to Granger this time, but in between Dean and Theo. Unfortunately, what followed was a mind-numbing hour of arithmetic and stupidly complicated equations that without exception came out completely wrong. By the end of the class, most of the class were staring blankly at Vector, brains completely shut down. The only exceptions were Blaise and Daphne, who were practically sitting on the same seat, feet busy beneath the table, and Granger, still scribbling madly. Finch-Fletchley and his friend Mark Douglas had lasted almost until the end, but gave out with a few minutes to go. When Vector dismissed the class, it took a few moments for anyone to wake up enough to realise that they should be leaving.
"Feel like joining me in Muggle Studies?" Theo asked as they left. "It's easy marks, just ask Granger."
"Granger's taking Muggle Studies?" Daniel asked. "I thought she was taking Divination, and Runes and Arithmancy. They said three was the most you should do."
"That's not going to stop her," Theo said. "She's top of the class for a reason. She can handle it."
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
In the four hours between Arithmancy and his meeting with Snape, Daniel started a million things and finished none of them. He spent some time trying to make up for the complete lack of an Arithmancy lesson they'd just had, but the numbers all melted together in front of his eyes. He spent a few minutes trying to practise Charms, but that was fruitless as ever. He went down to dinner at six, but the more he ate, the more ill he felt. He did some reading to prepare for tomorrow's Herbology, but it kept reminding him of Potions, and of Snape, and so ignoring the surprised looks he got from Theo and Draco, he tumbled his things into his bag and went down to the dorm.
He grabbed a notepad and pen, sat on his bed with the curtains drawn and tried to think of what he should tell Rick and Penny. Because they still were his foster parents, whatever the paperwork might say. He knew they would have guessed he'd gone to Hogwarts, but they'd promised not to tell anyone else about his school, so who knew what everyone else thought. If they were in trouble because of him, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't ruin things forever. Maybe he should write to the new people, and explain to them that he didn't want to live with them, but that his foster parents hadn't had anything to do with it. They wouldn't be able to trace mail back to Hogwarts, so that should be safe enough. Some other kid could go live with them, and Daniel could stay at Hogwarts through all the holidays. Maybe he could stay with someone over summer. Not Theo, obviously, but maybe Dean or Seamus would keep him for a few weeks each, and then Terry for some more time. He'd float the idea anyway, say his parents were going on a trip or something.
He got as far as
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kepler,
I'm sorry if I made you worry, but I don't like it at
before tearing the sheet off, crumpling it and tossing it into his top drawer. It was impossible. Why could no one understand that he just wanted to stay where he'd been? He was sure his parents wouldn't have minded how "permissive" his foster parents were, so long as he liked it there. With a sigh, he lay down on his bed and placed his hand over his necklace, figuring he could listen to their message maybe five times through before he had to go meet Snape.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
He could still hear their voices faintly in the back of his head as he sat in Snape's office. If Snape is still alive, you should go to him. If he is dead, or you can't contact him, Dumbledore is your next best bet. Dumbledore will do right by the world, but Snape will do right by you. It's his way.
Snape had ordered him in as tersely as ever, directing him to the stiff wooden chair in front of his desk. Once Daniel had taken the seat, Snape had seated himself behind his desk, clasped his hands together and stared at him expectantly. Snape will do right by you. Daniel shifted to bring his right foot up under him, unable to raise his eyes. It's his way. Daniel drew his breath in long and hard.
"There's something I need to talk to you about," he said, starting promisingly strong but fading away to a mumble by the end of the sentence. He pulled his foot out and placed it back on the floor before Snape could snap at him to sit properly.
"I am aware of that, Livingstone," Snape said dryly. Something in his voice drew Daniel's eyes up to meet the narrowed black ones of his Head of House. "I have been informed of your difficulties by Professor Flitwick, and Professor Lupin has also mentioned to me your outburst in his class on Monday, and your consequent absence yesterday."
It's his way.
"It's … very private," Daniel managed.
Snape didn't bother to hide his impatience when Daniel fell silent again. "You are here to talk to me, Livingstone," he said. "So talk."
"Not personally private," Daniel said quickly, pleased to have been given an order he needed to obey. "It's really important nobody else hears any of it. I mean it, truly."
"Nobody can spy on me in my own office," Snape said crisply. "It has withstood many tests, of vastly varying strengths."
Daniel figured he had about two more fact-free sentences before he had the man angry. But if he said what he needed to, directly, he couldn't gauge what Snape's reaction might be.
Snape will do right by you.
"You are not leaving this room until you have been honest with me," Snape said.
Daniel hadn't realised how far across he had shifted on his seat, towards the door. "There's a prophecy everyone thinks is about Potter, but it could be about me, too," he said all in a rush as he moved to sit back in the middle. He forced himself to watch Snape's face.
"Livingstone," the man said, face as hard and cold as stone. "You are delirious."
"I'm not saying it is me," Daniel said, voice coming out as a whine despite all his efforts. "It's just I get messages from people who say they're my parents, and they tell me things, and it bothers me because there's no reason that it couldn't be true, and they said to tell you."
When he focused his eyes again, he saw Snape's wand out and directed right between his eyes.
"Don't move," he said, voice dark and dangerous. "Who told you to tell me? Who has put you up to this?"
"I don't know who they are," Daniel said. The direct threat helped him to clear his mind. "I'll take a potion, or let you spell me or something, to show you the truth."
"That will not be necessary," Snape said, lowering his wand slowly to the table. He met Daniel's eyes for a moment, then frowned and looked away. Daniel slid his shoulders around, trying to free the shiver that hovered at the base of his neck. When it refused to budge, he rubbed at his eyes instead.
"What are these messages you say you get?" Snape asked levelly.
"I knew I was a wizard before I got the letter," Daniel said, starting where it was safe, hoping Snape wouldn't think he was avoiding the question.
"Look me in the eyes," Snape said softly, so it was clear he wasn't trying to interrupt.
That was … less safe. You should go to him. He'll do right by you.
Fixing his gaze on Snape's right eye, trying to stay free and open in his mind, willing Snape to see he was telling the truth, Daniel continued. "There's a necklace I've had forever, I just didn't realise until I was eight when I could actually see and feel it. First time I touched it, it told me I had magic and it was magic, and it told me to try things."
Daniel paused to field any questions Snape might have, but the man was silent. Biting his lip, Daniel continued. "Every birthday it seemed to get another message to give me, and then for all that year whenever I touched it it just gave me that same message. When I was nine they told me they were my parents and some more stuff about magic, and how to make sure not to use it in front of people. Ten was about Hogwarts, and how I had to keep them a secret there, even though I would be free to do magic. It told me a lot about this place, and was dead helpful telling me things to expect and to avoid. Eleven told me some stuff about Potter, and You-Know-Who, and the first war. Told me to stay away from Potter, because of how dangerous he was. Twelve was … " His throat closed up, and he tore his eyes away from Snape's.
"Go on," the man said before Daniel could settle into silence. "Look at me, Livingstone, and keep talking."
"Twelve was specific," he said, quickly, trying to pretend that the eye he was staring into wasn't attached to a person. "About them, and how they were going to die, and why I had to be sent away, and how much they wished I would be happy, but that some things were just more important. And said more about how much of a secret it was. Thirteen told me the whole prophecy, and about You-Know-Who, and about Potter and Longbottom, and you, and Dumbledore, and … everything."
It was meant to be a burden lifted. But Daniel felt worse after that speech than he had with the Dementors outside his compartment on the train. Snape was looking at him in a way that would not allow him to escape, and he could feel the questions in the air.
Then something shifted. "Go to bed," Snape said, in such a normal tone Daniel was cast adrift. "We will speak further of this tomorrow at four o'clock. Get as much sleep as you can."
Daniel forced his mouth closed and stood. "Don't tell Dumbledore," he said, heart sinking. "Please don't tell him."
Snape fixed him with a cold stare. "I will do as I think best," he said. "You are dismissed."
Daniel steadied himself, and looked up at his Head of House. "At least tell me if you're going to tell him," he demanded.
"I do not intend to inform the Headmaster at this time," Snape said. "I see no urgency in this affair."
It was better than nothing. "Okay," Daniel said. "Good night, sir."
"Yes," was all Snape said. Daniel didn't dare to look back at him, managing to relax a little only after he had closed the door behind him.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
The soft clunk of his door left Snape locked in with his memories, dragged to the surface once more, but not by the usual suspect. For all that Livingstone believed his own story, Snape simply could not allow its implications to be proved correct. To be protecting Potter and still mourning after all these years, for a lie, would …
No. Livingstone had been troubled for most of his life, and more so than usual recently, and he had as much reason to dislike Potter as any child in the school. The Dark Lord had marked Potter, as the prophecy had foretold. The mystery of Livingstone's parentage was not a vast conspiracy to protect the Chosen One, no matter how much the boy might need it to be. Tomorrow night Snape would go over the story in as much detail as was necessary to satisfy himself that it led to nothing, then he would be able to handle the boy's real problems, whatever they turned out to be.
Rubbing a hand across his temple, he pulled out the next day's lesson plans and carried the list of required antidotes to his storeroom. What intrigued him, more than he let the tiny possibility he had killed Lily for no reason, was the feel of Livingstone's mind as it had brushed against his. Snape had no illusions about the strength of his Legilimency as compared to his Occlumency, but it wasn't right that Livingstone had allowed him to see his mind, like he could have defended it had he chosen to. The boy was thirteen. He was by no means an idiot, but that mind had edges of sophistication that could only be attained through specific mental training. Training he was certain the child had not received while at school.
He directed the vials of antidote into the classroom, locking them in the cabinet, and only just began to wonder if he had perhaps let Livingstone go prematurely. He told himself that at least this way he would be able to think of the right questions to ask before time, but he could tell that he would be distracted until they could speak again. His classes always had the potential for catastrophe; the ability of children to find trouble was a phenomenon he had never been able to explain. He had two Gryffindor-Slytherin classes to get through tomorrow before he would meet with Livingstone.
He could almost see the rubies flying up the hourglass already. That thought, if nothing else that had happened that evening, brought a slight curve to his lips.