Title: Certain Magic
Author: Watoshimi Kairou
Fandom: Harry Potter, Labyrinth
Characters: Jareth / Sarah Williams, Severus Snape / Hermione Granger, Toby Williams
Rating: Mature
Status: Complete
Summary: Toby Williams is attending Hogwarts and he's about to bring with him fairy tales even the Wizarding World didn't think existed.

I extended the end of the previous chapter, so those who read it immediately upon its publication may want to go back and read it. I added and changed some of the dialogue which foreshadows future events. This is what happens when I type a chapter without my original notes, guys. I miss everything important.

Also, this has been (sort of) mentioned before in the first chapter (during Dumbledore's inner monologue) but since I've gotten a few questions about it, I apologize for not making this clear enough. This fic takes place during Harry's fifth year. With Umbridge. Yeah. That woman.

Certain Powers
[4] Sparks

Sarah,

Can you believe that even with all this magic, their best form of long-distant communication is through letters? Carried by owls (speaking of owls, I think I accidentally adopted a new one. He just showed up one morning and refused to leave me alone since. Sometimes, he even follows me to my dorm)! Anyway, I know you're probably really angry at me for not writing to you sooner but I didn't know where to start. There are so many things I want to tell you. You would have loved it here, Sarah, I wish you could have come with me too.

Except for Professor Umbridge. You probably wouldn't like her. The class itself isn't too bad (she teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts), just a lot of reading and essays but she reminds me of Mrs. Golding back in Upper Nyack. She has the same sugar-sweet, candy cane voice even though she's not as pretty. You guys definitely wouldn't get along, she'll probably want to pinch your cheeks too. Ha!

Anyway, I was sorted into Hufflepuff—that's the one with the yellow and black colors. And I think our mascot is a skunk or something. I thought it was a monkey at first but it looks like a skunk. I think, if you were attending Hogwarts, you would be a Ravenclaw—because you're so smart and everything—even though mom always says you look better in green. But that's Slytherin and you don't like snakes—

"Sarah Williams?"

Sarah looked up from her brother's letter at the smiling face of the barista. "Yes, that's me," she answered, reaching up and wrapping a hand around the warm cup. "Thank you." She glanced out the window, wondering if she should take her coffee to go but shuddered upon seeing the strong wind blowing someone's hat off their head. I don't think I'll ever get used to London weather, she thought. It didn't matter how long she had lived here, she would forever miss the ninety-degree plus weathers during the summer (and Fahrenheit! She missed telling weather in Fahrenheit). If it wasn't her desire to remain close to her family, she would have moved back a long time ago.

Sliding into an empty seat, Sarah placed her coffee on the tabletop out in front of her and turned her attention back to Toby's letter, frowning. Everyone had always warned her about babying Toby too much but they also teased her about her not knowing what to do with her life in the future once Toby grew out of it. And she knew he would. Mommy's boy, daddy's girl, they were all the same; all children grew up. But this...

This letter...

"I wish you could have come with me too."

And:

"You probably wouldn't like her."

And, again:

"I think, if you were attending Hogwarts, you would be a Ravenclaw..."

It stayed like that throughout the entire letter. Every other paragraph had Toby pointing out things that she would like. Every other sentence had some sort of implication of his desire for her to be there. With him. In a magical world that she wanted no part in. She didn't want magic in her life again. She didn't want to live in a world where fairy tales didn't exist for it did more harm than good. She almost lost Toby to magic—to fairy tales—for crying out loud. And yet...

Yet...

She couldn't let it go completely. Sarah didn't think she would ever be able to let it go completely. For as long as she could remember, she had always believed in magic. And for a short period when she was fifteen, she had lived it. She had lived in a world where doorknockers talked and magical, smelly bogs were used as punishments. She had lived in a world where dreams became reality and reality was only as limited as one's imagination. And as much as Sarah wanted to leave all that behind her, she knew she couldn't let go of her friends—of Hoggle, and Lugo and Sir Didymus, and the ever loyal Ambrosious. And her goblins.

(Oh! Her goblins.)

Her sweet, darling, headache-inducing goblins. As frustrating as they could get, they kept her from feeling lonely in the very logical, very real world she never felt she belonged in. They kept her safe and happy and loved and Sarah didn't think—no, Sarah knew—she would never be able to let them go.

And she wanted Toby to love magic as much as she does. Underneath all the joy she felt whenever she visited her younger brother, she had felt just the slightest bit guilty. Goblins—invisible to his eye—swarmed and laughed and giggled and played around him without him even suspecting and Sarah always felt like she was keeping a bit part of herself a secret from him.

—but if he attended Hogwarts—

—if he began incorporating magic into his life—

—and learn to love it then Sarah hope to be able to introduce her goblins to him one day. But what could she do if Toby still kept himself at arm's length from the Wizarding World? While she was flattered that he thought about her, how could he love a world, he also wanted her to be a part of?

Or he could be homesick, Sarah thought to herself. cheerfully. Everyone gets homesick their first year. She took a sip of her coffee and winced, coughing a bit from her still too-hot drink.

"Need a napkin?" a voice asked, accented and smooth. It sent just the slightest tingle down her spine, barely noticeable as she was distracted by trying not to choke.

Sarah looked up, a hand held over her mouth. "Yes," she said, grabbing it with her free hand. "Thank you."

Her acceptance of his offered napkin must have come off as some sort of welcoming of his presence for he immediately slid into the seat directly across from her. She tensed up, glaring over her—his—napkin and prayed her too smooth and unsmiling expression was enough of a hint that his presence was not desired.

"My name's Cahan," he introduced.

Sarah had to hold back a scowl. Deebie, a rather small, female goblin who had been hiding in her hair, poked her head out and giggled. She scrambled over to her shoulder, down her arm, and hopped onto the table. Sarah glared, hoping to stop her from doing whatever it was she planned on doing. "That's great," she muttered, looking back down at Toby's letter, hoping he would get the message and go away.

Her father was always telling her she needed to be more patient—she needed to be kinder. But nothing good ever comes out of that, she thought. Look where she was now!

He flashed her a smile but didn't move.

Sarah did scowl then, making Deeble ooh and clap her clawed hands in excitement (as long as it wasn't directed towards them, the goblins absolutely loved her temper). She supposed it was a rather charming smile; and if Sarah didn't know any better, she would have thought he had some sort of supernatural charm about him. She half-expected glitter. "I'm busy, please leave me alone." Her tone was flat and unamused—as if it wasn't already before—but it didn't get any flatter or less amused than this.

"I'm just trying to be nice," he said, eyebrows furrowing. "I thought you looked rather lonely. He looked just the slightest bit confused as if he had never gotten turned down before. Considering his smooth blond hair, bright green eyes, and perfect complexion, it could actually be the case. Unfortunately, Sarah was a cruel and unforgiving woman—or so she's been told—and it mattered little to her.

She sighed and leaned back, adjusting her stance until everything about it screamed at him to leave her alone. Only an idiot could have missed it. "I don't care for kindness," she told him, stuffing Toby's letter back into her over-sized purse. "Since you're not going to leave, I will." Then, without waiting for a response or reaction, she got up from her seat and walked away into the cold, leaving behind a giggling Deebie and a wide-eyed Cahan.

(Deebie could do whatever she wanted with Cahan for all she cared. That included throwing him into a lake. Or an active volcano.)

"Well," Cahan said slowly. He tapped his fingers against the abandoned table in a rhythmic pattern. "That was rather unexpected; what a cruel woman."

Deebie continued to laugh.

Cahan flattened his lips and looked down at the small goblin, glaring. His fingers stilled and he curled them into a tight fist. "Knock it off, would you?" he hissed, giving her a none too gentle poke.

"Are you going to name it?"

Toby frowned. "Him. Adrian, it's a him." At least he was fairly certain it was. The last time he picked up the barn owl in an attempt to check, he had been half-pecked to death. He hadn't made an attempt since. He turned towards his friend. "Besides, he's not mine; I can't just name him.

Aiden rolled his eyes. "He might as well be, I don't see him going to anyone else." Ignoring the owl's furious stare, he looked around the Great Hall with a confused frown. "Where do you think he comes from, anyway? Not the owlry, I don't think, or he would have traveled in with the rest." A thought suddenly struck him, making him hesitate and he slowly turned back towards the own, this time, taking careful note of its—his—stare. "You don't think he's wild, do you?"

"He's too used to humans to be wild," Toby answered, reaching out to stroke the barn owl's smooth, feathered head.

He allowed Toby two strokes before pecking his hand away.

"I can't tell if he likes or hates you," Kathie said, across from Toby. She inched her breakfast away from the barn owl, as if scared he would peck her hand if it accidentally strayed too close.

Toby smiled, amused and opened his mouth to answer, only to be distracted by the hotting of various owls as the morning post came. He was not particularly fond of this part of their usual morning routine and was still getting used to dodging flying owls, dropped packages, and extended, arm-waving hands. Thankfully, Hel's large form stood out despite the vast parliament of owls. More than one student watched as she gracefully glided through the air, circled once, before landing onto the tabletop near Toby, effectively shoving several smaller owls out of her way.

"Be nice," Toby scolded her, reaching over to untie his two letters—one from his parents and another from his sister. He placed the letters from his parents down in favor of his sister's—he could always read it later—when he felt the slight tingling of his right ear. Toby paused, feeling neck muscles tensing. He looked up and around, trying to find what was causing his sudden apprehension.

And there—

Sitting at the Slytherin table, a pale, silver-blond student was glaring at him like had wronged him in some way. Toby blinked, confused and looked over his shoulder, wondering if it was possible that someone that someone behind him was being glared at. No such luck.

Adrian, who must had noticed the tenseness in Toby's form, looked up from his own mail and gave him a curious glance. "What's wrong?"

"Do you know who that is?" Toby asked, his voice a soft whisper even though he knew the angry-looking blond wouldn't be able to hear him. "And why he's glaring at me like that?"

Adrian followed the line of Toby's nervous gaze. "Oh," he said, voice also dropping. "That's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. He's as rich as they get."

Toby wasn't sure if that was supposed to mean something to him. Throughout the past few weeks, he had found out that Harry Potter was supposed to mean something but besides him being a fifth year he sometimes sees whenever he seeks out Hermione's advice, there wasn't anything too special about him that Toby could see. "I don't know him," Toby told Adrian. "Why do you think he's glaring at me?"

"Hel, probably."

Toby blinked and then turned to face him. "Hel," he repeated, wondering if he had misheard. "My owl, Hel?"

Adrian nodded and voice dropping even lower, he told Toby, "Before Hel, Malfoy's eagle owl was the biggest owl here. Malfoys don't like being second best." He shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised if he gets a new owl soon."

Toby blinked again.

Of all the stupid—

"Owls?" he squealed, his voice high-pitched with disbelief. "He's comparing owls? Really?"

Adrian shrugged again as if it was some sort of common and expected occurrence. "I told you, Malfoys don't like being second best."

"That's so... so... stupid," he hissed, reaching over and gently wrapping his hands around Hel. "It's only by one or two inches anyway. Besides, look at her! Half her size is feathers, anyway."

Adrian looked amused but Toby couldn't blame him. He probably would also have been amused by the entire situation if he wasn't the one being glared at. "Anyway, just watch yourself around Malfoy."

"Why?" Toby asked. "Because he'll tell his owl to peck me to death? That's so immature!" How old was the blond, anyway? Fifteen? Did he know he was comparing owls with an eleven-year-old?

It was the disbelieving, exasperated tone in Toby's voice that made Adrian hesitate. "No," he said slowly, dragging out the word. "It's because you're Muggleborn... Malfoy isn't a big fan of Muggleborns. Rumors have it that he called Granger a... a..." He shuddered. "Never mind."

Toby perked up at the familiar name. "Granger? Hermione Granger?" He distantly remembered Professor Dumbledore talking about something with Muggleborn-related conflicts and such. "Called her a what?"

Adrian only shook his head. "No," he said firmly, looking quite ill. "I can't say it." He chanced a glance at Malfoy for a brief second before turning back towards Toby. "Anyway, just be careful around him. I hear he's wicked with hexes."

Toby frowned. "You don't think he'll actually hurt anyone, do you?"

The older student hesitated. "Just be careful," he finally responded.

It did not escape Toby that Adrian had not answered his question. He looked over at Malfoy again only to jerk backwards in surprise when the pie in front of the pale boy exploded, covering him and four people in its vicinity with apple bits. Toby immediately dropped his gaze, ripping open his letter from Sarah open; the last thing he wanted was to make an enemy out of a fifth year student.

Just keep reading, just keep reading, he told himself, eyes skimming through the letter's contents.

"Did you do that?" hissed Adrian.

"No!" Toby hissed back. "That definitely wasn't me!" He continued reading, praying the burning stare he felt on top of his head wasn't from Malfoy.

As he read through Sarah's letter, Toby felt himself beginning to relax. Even his sister's imaginary voice was enough to make him forget all about Malfoy and his issues with owl sizes. He wised—not for the first time—that he could share this magical world with her. Despite her misgivings, despite her verbal lack of desire to live in a fairy tale, Toby just knew she would have loved it here. "Adrian?" he asked distractedly, moving Sarah's letter out of reach of the approaching barn owl. "Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Adrian looked up again. "Yes I am. Why? Do you need anything?"

Toby beamed. "If I give you money, do you think you can help me buy a couple of books? Any subject, really."

"Your sister again?" a nearby Ellis asked knowingly. The only other person that read as many books as Sarah was Hermione. With her brown hair—despite its fuzziness, and the lighter shade—and kind personality it was no wonder why Toby liked her so much. His somewhat friendship with the Gryffindor Princess was a well known fact in his Hufflepuff circle. They mostly ask him about Harry Potter but Toby wasn't really friends with the older, dark-haired boy.

"Well," Toby began, not noticing his friends' amusement. "Sarah loves magic but she's a Mu—" he cut himself off, pursing his lips, and then tried again. "She doesn't have magic. She's also a fantasy author so books from your Wizarding World could be used as inspiration."

"Why do you say 'our' world?" Adrian asked, frowning. "It's your world now too, you know?"

Toby paused, blinking. He never even noticed the unintentional implication of his wording before now that it had been brought up, it made perfect sense to him. "It doesn't really feel like my world," he answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Adrian exchanged glances with Ellis and Kathie but as the oldest one in the group, they silently motioned for him to bring the subject up. They were all thinking the same thing. "Just don't let people like Malfoy hear you say that," he finally told Toby.

Not noticing the seriousness in Adrian's voice, Toby only wrinkled his nose in distaste. He was slightly distracted feeding Hel some of his toast and when he tried the same thing with the male owl (who was still hanging around), he only bristled and turned away as if he was too good for it. "People like Malfoy?" he repeated. "Who else is like him?"

"Well," Ellis began, "the lot he hangs out with, for one. And Umbridge, probably. She's from the Ministry so she hides it pretty well but you can tell."

Toby looked up in alarm then. A professor? "Hides what?"

Obviously afraid that they'll be overheard and punished, Kathie leaned in. "Her dislike for Muggleborns," she whispered in a low voice. "And non-humans. She doesn't like Professor Flitwick at all; you can tell by the way she speaks to him. He's half-goblin, you know."

"I hear she uses blood quills in her detention," Adrian added.

Kathie and Ellis immediately gasped. "No!"

"I thought they were illegal?" added Kathie.

Toby blinked. "What are blood quills?" he asked in confusion.

His three friends shuddered at the mention. "They're quills that uses the writer's blood as ink," Adrian told him. "You can probably imagine the pain." He sighed and shook his head. "Anyway, they're not exactly illegal; just looked down upon. They're actually pretty popular in Durmstrang."

Ellis nodded, nervously picking apart his half-abandoned breakfast. "Just be thankful you're not Harry Potter. I hear she's a complete nightmare to him." He side-glanced towards Toby. "I know you're friends with him—or at least with Hermione Granger—but be careful. You don't want Umbridge thinking you guys are good mates or anything."

Another Hufflepuff—who had obviously been eavesdropping—snorted in amusement. "You can't really blame her," he told them in a condescending tone. "He's sprouting all that nonsense about You-Know-Who coming back."

Toby most certainly did not know who but from the suddenly tense atmosphere, he decided it would be a lot better not to ask. He nibbled on the edge of his toast and wondered if he would ever be able to know all he needed to know about the Wizarding World. Not that he really cared, he suddenly realized. While he certainly liked learning magic, he couldn't see himself incorporating it into his life. Why would he want to charm his entire room clean if he could clean it together with his family all while using the broom handle as a microphone and throwing each other soapy towels? Why would he want to charm leftover meals warm if he could get his mother to toss a couple of them into a pan and remake it into something else entirely?

Magic was new, magic was fun but what was the point of incorporating it into his life if it took away everything he loved?

"No, not really," Hermione told him. "Actually, I never felt that way about the Muggle World. It was only when Professor Dumbledore came to me did I feel like I finally had somewhere to belong."

Toby frowned, tightening his grip around his Transfiguration textbook he was holding closer to his chest as they strolled down the corridor. "But you're Muggleborn; even after reading Hogwarts: A History ten times, everything must have still felt... weird to you. You never felt like... like... some sort of... I dunno... outsider?"

Hermione frowned, her steps slowing down just the slightest. While she may not have gone through the same thing, as a fellow Muggleborn, Hermione probably understood his insecurities. She looked over at Toby, pursing her lips in thought.

"Is it because I'm American?" Toby asked.

She laughed then. "No," Hermione assured him. "Just because I immediately felt at home here, doesn't mean it'll happen to you too. Obviously it didn't. Sometimes, it'll take a while and you've only been here a month. Besides," she said, voice softening. "With recent events, even I don't feel like I belong sometimes; I'm still adjusting."

Toby wasn't all that convinced. "I guess..." he said slowly. The Wizarding World was cool and all but it seemed more like some sort of extended vacation rather than a new aspect of his life. He couldn't actually see himself being part of it but he had a feeling that if Sarah was in his place, she wouldn't have this problem. He wondered why, that between the two of them, he was the one with the magical abilities.

—Sarah who used to read him bedtime stories filled with dragons and fairies and magic—

—Sarah who used to dress up in pretty costumes with a smile that would light up the room—

—Sarah who had impossible dreams—

—Sarah who had the ability to pour life into her words—

Sarah had nothing at all.

Sarah should have been the one attending Hogwarts, he realized, feeling a sickening twist deep in his stomach. Why wasn't Sarah a witch? She would have been like Hermione, feeling—knowing—that she belonged here. I took this from her, Toby thought, sudden panic making him think illogically. Sarah wasn't a witch because he was a wizard. If only he—

"Toby?"

His head snapped up, Hermione's voice ripping him away from his thoughts. "Huh?" he asked. "Sorry, I didn't hear that. What did you say?"

She frowned. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, inhaling deeply in hopes of pushing his thoughts into the depths of his mind. Trying to distract himself, Toby looked around and realized that they were walking through a very familiar—and yet, also highly dreaded—corridor. "Where are you going?" he asked her. "This isn't the way to Gryffindor Tower."

"It's not," Hermione confirmed. "I'm heading down to Professor Snape's classroom. I usually help brew some medical potions for Madam Promfrey during this time. Would you like to join me?"

Toby stared at her in horror, earlier thoughts about Sarah and magic immediately abandoned. "Professor Snape?" he repeated, his voice an unintentional whisper. "Um..." he looked around and cleared his throat awkwardly. "No. No thank you. I think," he hesitated, cleared his throat, and tried again. "I think I should probably head back to my dorms."

Hermione laughed. "All right," she agreed. She pointed down a dark hall. "If you follow this hallway and go down the first flight of stairs you see, it should take you directly to Hufflepuff Basement."

"Thank you," he said with a relieved sigh. "See you later then."

"Of course."

He moved to follow her instructions, swallowing hard as he took in the darkened halls. He suddenly wished that he had chosen a cat—or even a toad—instead of an owl for a pet. He needed something to hold. Preferably fluffy.

"Toby?"

He turned. "Yeah?"

Hermione smiled. "Just give it some time, okay?"

Toby nodded, gracing the older Gryffindor with a hesitant smile. "Okay," he agreed.

The trip back to Hufflepuff Basement was half power walk, half full out sprinting. By the time he reached the entrance, he decided that he was never, ever, ever going to be walking around the castle so close to curfew ever again. They might as well make the school into a haunted house; they even had the ghosts for it! And it wasn't even until Toby saw the familiar door to his dormitory did he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He would be sleeping alone tonight—his two roommates liked to attend the weekly Hufflepuff sleepover down in the common room—but that was all right. While he didn't usually like to be alone, he didn't mind sleeping by himself here since he would be surrounded by familiar blankets, pillows, and pictures (all of them from home) and had readings and essays to occupy himself with. Inhaling deeply, Toby opened the door to his dorm, only to immediately freeze in the doorway upon noticing his room was already occupied.

And not by humans either.

Toby stared and for a brief second, he wondered if he entered the wrong room. He watched with wide eyes as three... three... odd creature-looking things shrieking with happy laughter as the bounced around on his bed.

He blinked.

Then blinked again.

They were small creatures—and quite ugly too!—no higher than his knee and apparently, had already made themselves at home on his bed. "Weee!" they cried, jumping over, on top, and underneath each other. "Again!"

"Um," he said.

They immediately froze, form bristling with shock before spinning around to face him.

He swallowed hard. "Uh... hi?" he greeted hesitantly, holding up his hands to show he meant them no harm.

"Uh-oh," one said. "Lady is not going to be happy."

Toby blinked again. Then squinted. Was one of them wearing girl's underwear on its head?

"Nope," another agreed.

"Lady's going to bog us," the third added.

"Yup," the second one agreed again.

Toby shifted his weight onto his other foot, hands still held high in the air, growing more and more uncomfortable in his spot. Maybe he should have just closed the door and pretended he never saw anything. "What are you?" he asked and then hastily corrected himself, "I mean, who are you?"

They looked at each other then back up towards him. "We're house elves," one answered. The other two looked at each other and laughed.

"Yup!" the smallest one agreed. "We help clean."

"You do?" Toby asked, obviously not convinced.

"Yes!" one chirped, bouncing. "We're making your bed!"

It sounded so proud of itself, Toby didn't have the heart to tell it that he had already made his bed this morning. In fact, the only reason it was currently so messy was because they were currently used it as a trampoline. He settled on clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Are you coming to bed?" one asked. Then waved its hands excitedly. "Come, come! We'll read you a bedtime story!"

"Uh, no... no thank you," Toby said slowly, feeling quite out of depth. "I'm just going to..." he looked around awkwardly.

"Sleep!" the house elf commanded. "I want to read Toby a bedtime story."

"Bedtime story!" the other sang. They were obviously very excited.

Toby wasn't even going to ask how they knew his name.

Watching them jump around, squealing with happiness, Toby couldn't help but think that they weren't really as ugly as he had first thought they were. Actually, now that he looked at them more carefully, they were really quite cute.

"Please?" one begged, turning large, bulging eyes in his direction. "I'll read Lady's story!"

"Okay, okay," Toby finally agreed, breaking out into a full smile when they threw their hands into the air and cheered. "Let me just get ready for bed first, okay?"

They didn't answer him. Instead, they watched carefully, large eyes never missing a thing as he made his way around the room, picking up various necessities. He watched them from the corner of his eyes, wondering what he had gotten himself involved in this time. Feeling their stare on his back, he decided to change in the bathroom. No matter how cute they were, their too-large, bulging eyes was seriously putting him off.

A few minutes later, Toby found himself back in his room ready for bed. They fussed about around him, leading him towards the comfort of his bed. One of them had taken it upon itself to fluff out his pillow and shake out his blanket before helping Toby settle down into it. For a moment, Toby felt like a child again. And that he was back home preparing to sleep while Sarah pulled out her favorite collection of fairy tales. On occasions, he remembered that she would read him some of her original works. That was before she became a published author; it was extra special back then.

One of the house elves cleared its throat, summoning a small red book out of thin air. "Okie dokie," it said. "Ready?"

"All ready!" another answered and settled itself down next to Toby's head. It reached over to stroke his head, its touch surprisingly comforting.

The third had already started snoring.

The biggest house elf cleared its throat again. "Chapter one. The white owl," it read. "Nobody saw the owl, white in the moonlight, black against the stars, nobody heard him as he glided over on silent wings of velvet. The owl saw and heard everything."

It was a bit odd, Toby finally decided, being tucked into bed by creatures ugly enough to stare in nightmares—and they were probably starred in his years ago. Sarah had a way with storytelling, she could bring just about anything to life. But these particular creatures were kind, he could tell. Toby had a feeling they were used to children. Bedtime stories and soothing hands, he thought, remembering Sarah.

"He settled in a tree, his claw hooked on a branch, and he stared at the girl in the glade below. The wind moaned, rocking the branch, scudding low clouds across the evening sky," the house elf continued. "It lifted the hair of the girl. The owl was watching her, with his round, dark eyes.

The other house elf—the one that wasn't sleeping—giggled. With the soothing, storytelling tone of one house elf, the soft snores of another, and the little huffs of muffled laughter from a third, Toby felt himself beginning to relax despite the oddity of the situation. It was a bit odd, he realized, feeling almost at home for the first time since he had first left his family behind at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

This kind of feeling—the feeling of home—would never be able to be replicated. The Wizarding World didn't feel like his and despite what Hermione had said, he doubt it would ever be.

Definitely not without Sarah, anyway, Toby thought glumly.

He liked fairy tales, he liked stories about dragons and fairies and magic. Maybe not as much as Sarah obviously did but he liked it well enough. But when Sarah—and only Sarah—was the one telling him the stories, they Toby found himself loving it. He found himself wanting to live in a world with tea-drinking worms and finger-biting fairies.

And Sarah used to want this too, he remembered.

His parents always teased Sarah about her lazy Sundays and how she hated baby-sitting him because she wanted to go play dress up in the park and act out plays. Sarah used to dream of living in a world of magic but she gave that up so she could take care of him.

And now...

And now...

"But Sarah," Toby remembered saying. "You love fairy tales."

"Yes," she had agreed. "But that doesn't mean I actually want to live in one."

But she did. Toby knew she did. All those years ago. And Toby couldn't help but think that he may have somehow taken her dreams away from. Because now he was living her dream and she was left with nothing at all.

"Give me the child," Lady said," the house elf read, not noticing the dark turn Toby's thought had taken. "In a voice that was low, but firm with the courage her quest needed. She halted, her hands held out. "Give me the child," she repeated."

If Sarah couldn't be a witch, she could have been an actress. Like her mother. But Toby had taken that away from her too.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered..."

Instead of joining her high school's drama club, instead of attending the acting classes she had always wanted to take, Sarah had been forced to babysit him. Sarah had given up so much for him and now she was an author simply because it was the closest thing she could get to her original dreams.

"... I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City..."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Toby realized that he was only thinking these things because he was homesick. He missed Sarah and her soothing presence, he missed his fathers laugh and his mother's cooking. But even so...

Even so...

"...to take back the child you have stolen..."

That didn't mean it wasn't true. Just because he missed home didn't mean he wasn't the reason why Sarah had abandoned her dreams.

"'For my will is as strong as yours... and my kingdom as great..."

The house elf stroking his hair was nearly vibrating with excitement, pulling Toby out of his depressing thoughts. He turned to look at it, brows furrowing in concern.

"'My will is as strong as yours." Lady spoke with more intensity now. "And my kingdom as great—"

As if unable to contain itself any longer, the house elf exploded from his seat on Toby's pillow with glee, startling its fellow house elf out from its slumber. It shot up into the air and happily bellowed out, "You have no power over me!"

The story one of the goblins were readings are direct quotes from the beginning of the Labyrinth novel, written by A.C.H. Smith.

Again, I want to thank everyone who reviewed, it really means a lot to me. I've been having a really bad week and your reviews are one of the few things I look forward to. Unfortunately, for some reason, I am unable to reply to reviews so if you have a question you want answered, feel free to ask me on Tumblr. My writing account is of-feathers.