The Professor stared down at the four students with his arms crossed. He was beginning to regret his decision on letting the students fall into groups of four. Mainly because it was James Potter who ended up with his hand shredded... At the dare of his best friend, Sirius Black.

"James..." The teenager squirmed under his teacher's sharp eyes. "Tell me... why did you stick your hand into the cage when I specifically told you not to?"

"..."

"Peter, Remus, you two are free to go to your next class."

The two boys quickly scurried off, leaving Sirius and James to look at their Professor sheepishly.

"I will be confiscating your wands and you will remain with me for the entirity of this class period. You may go to Madam Pomfrey's afterwards." He glanced over at the small creature by his side. "Timcanpy, please inform their teachers that they will be receiving their assignments later. If we're lucky, James may not end up shredding his other hand."

James Potter blanched.


Lavi didn't know whether he was happy Allen arrived or regretted it. He greeted the Slytherin with a big smile upon entrance and he could already see the longing in Allen's silver gaze as he eyed the roulette. But he'd be damned if he didn't find some way to get money out of this. Unlike Lenalee and Kanda, his birth mother was a Muggle and his birth father was poor, leaving him with hardly any way to get Galleons besides trading currency. He sure as hell haven't told any of them about reincarnation.

"You can play," Lavi began as he slung an arm over Allen's shoulder. "But you have to give me half of your winnings."

A noise of protest, just like the one he used to hear in the past, escaped Allen's lips and made Lavi's heart twist. He wanted the Allen he knew back. The beansprout he would use to tease. Someone else who shared their past. This Allen seemed to have lived a different life to the one they knew. He was different but so similar.

"You'll get a third," the boy stated.

"Two-thirds."

"A quarter."

"Four quarters and a half."

"Half a qu- Wait, what?" Allen blinked at Lavi. "That doesn't make any sense. You'll get nothing."

"Fine, I'll take the third." It was better that he got something.

And then Allen was gone.

Lavi had a good time gambling. Lenalee and Kanda wandered around monitoring everyone else to make sure that they didn't get in a fight. Kanda himself was going to try avoiding any interaction with Allen.

The Ravenclaw always made sure that he stayed a table away from Allen and observed him when he could. The Slytherin probably seemed like an angel to the other students with his polite demeanor but right now, some of them were wary. With any risky move Allen had done or if there was any belief on the opponent's face that they were going to win, Black Allen appeared.

Yes, the air around him seem to darken, his eyes looked a little more soulless, his smile sharp and dark. It made his opponent waver but then again, they never had a chance of victory.

Lavi shuddered when he watched Allen play. Back in the Black Order, if he looked very carefully, he might be able to catch a faint glimpse of the cards leaving his sleeves. His Bookman eye was trained to catch ahold of things like that. Now however, Lavi couldn't see anything when Allen casually reached for new cards.

He had gotten better, Lavi realized. And that was scary as hell.

He had forgotten that human interaction was a two-way street. And even though Kanda didn't so much as look at him, Allen piped his voice up to make it heard.

"Why don't you join in, BaKanda? Or are you scared that I'll beat you."

And Kanda was quick to retaliate. "Tch, I'm not going to lose my money to a cheat."

"You think I'm cheating?" Allen raised an eyebrow as Lavi rolled a bad number of die. He wondered if it was an omen. "I think you're just scared."

Lavi felt himself facepalm when Kanda whipped around and glared at the Slytherin. "I'm sure as hell not scared."

"Whatever you say, Sacredy-Cat~"

Okay, Allen might be too high on his winning streak. The room had to be closed down and evacuated when Kanda lifted Allen up and threw him onto the table. It cracked beneath his weight and Lavi was there holding Kanda back by his arms. Lenalee had jumped in-between them with a glare.

"Hey, Allen?" Lavi was really straining to talk as he held a rampaging Kanda back. "I think this is over so can you please leave? I'll find you in the morning for my share."

Because he had admittedly lost most of his own.

Allen eyed Lavi before nodding and walking off. He told Lenalee and Lavi goodnight before leaving the room. Kanda huffed when he was gone then shrugged Lavi off roughly.

"Yuu," he chided petulantly. "What have I told you about getting into a fight with Allen."

"He started it."

"...You really are a child."

Lavi narrowly dodged a punch to the face. What was up with everything wanting to kill him?


Allen lingered outside the Quidditch tryouts for Slytherin. He rubbed his arms as he watched others go before him, still not entirely sure on whether or not he wanted to do this. His body was developing an ache of sorts that made him wonder if those Dementors actually did cause any long term effects. He would have to ask Harry if he felt any different.

"I don't think he'd go out with me..."

Allen's attention drifted over to a group of girls that had come along for the trials. Pansy Parkins was watching Draco as she nervously bit her lower lip and the other girls whispered their encouragement. The thing was, their whispers sounded as though they were right beside him.

"Are you going to try," Draco asked. Having been to busy listening to the girls, Allen flinched at the sudden loudness of his voice before turning to face him.

"Ah, I haven't decided yet," he chuckled as he scratched his cheek with a smile. He hadn't forgiven Draco but for Quidditch, he would have to make a better effort at conversation if he wanted to win. "I'll admit, I'm a little nervous."

"Why? Because you haven't got a broom?"

"Well... yes, there is that."

"You can just borrow mine." He held it out to Allen. The white-headed teenager blinked in surprise before taking it. Draco acted as though this thing was a prized trophy and never even let Gregory or Vincent touch it. "What position are you trying for?"

"Beater."

"Brute force?" Draco looked him over. "You don't seem the type."

"I beat you and the other two one-handedly in first year, hadn't I?"

The blond grew pink. Allen smiled at him before he heard his name called by Flint. He held his breath before telling Draco to give him luck. He was soon in the air with a bat in hand. Lucian Bole was the person who was to hit the Bludger at him and Allen back. As he held the Bludger tightly against his chest, the dark-haired boy eyed Allen dubiously. He narrowed his eyes at the doubt and tightened his grip on the bat. Bole threw the Bludger into the air and have it a hearty smack before it went streaking towards Allen.

The Slytherin watched it as he prepared himself. Bringing back the bat, he swung his arm forward when the ball reached him.

One-hundred fourty-nine pounds of iron went skyrocketing back to Bole. Allen's hand vibrated from the contact and he was shaking it to get feeling back as he watched Bole's eyes widen and he dodged the Bludger entirely instead of attacking it.

"I've never seen anyone hit a Bludger like that," Bole commented to Flint when he landed. He looked down at the grass when the other teammates were mutterng about it. "I'd say that we should definitely get him on the team."

"Alright, Walker." Flint was staring at the teenager as though he were a new specimen. "You're in."


"What?" Ron exclaimed when Allen told them this news at lunch. Luna had happilly congradulated him as she sat at the table. "You're playing on the team?"

"I don't understand what's so upsetting about that," the Slytherin responded with a frown. His spoon was left in the beans next to Timcanpy. "I thought you'd be happy."

"I mean, I am but... it's Slytherin."

"Well we both know that I can't play for Gryffindor," he stated crossly. "Heaven forbid that I actually try and do something fun that doesn't require me risking my life."

"No, it's not that. Slytherin and Gryffindor have bad blood between them. What if Harry's worried about it."

"I'm not," the ravenette stated quickly. "It might be fun."

Allen heard the "yeah right" that Ron had muttered under his breath.

"Why is it that anything I do related to Slytherin seem like such a crime," he hissed as he glared at Ron. "I took Draco's side, I said he was innocent, and you all went behind my back to see for yourself." Harry, Hermione, and Ron flinched at the statement. "I decided to play Quidditch and you're getting upset over it. I'm not a Gryffindor, Ronald. We're not always going to be on the same side."

Ron gaped at him as Allen got to his feet and picked up a couple of rolls as he did so. He shot another glance at the redhead. "And I will work hard to win. Because giving Harry a fair and good game is the only honor I can give him as a rival."

Then he stalked off. Luna watched him go for a moment before she turned back to her chicken leg.

"You made Allen mad," she stated airily.

Allen found himself standing just in front of the Whomping Willow. He stared at it for a while as he tried to recall when it had been planted.

An eleven-year old boy with brown hair watched the newly-planted tree warily as he stood beside the Headmaster.

He shook his head to rid himself of the image. He probably didn't need to know. Allen closed his eyes and breathed in the outside air. It was nice and quiet. No voices were there to annoy him, the one in his head was surprisingly silent, and all he had for company was Timcanpy.

He opened his eyes before approaching the tree.

The Willow lashed out almost immediately. Allen bounded to the side to avoid being crushed by it's large branches. He had to duck when another swooped for his face and then improvise with a handspring when another branch came for his feet. He heard a noise, something soft hitting the grass, before his attention was disturbed by the new sound and he turned towards it.

He paid for it dearly when the tree collided with his chest and he was sent flying. His head and back hit the soil, his vision blackening for a split moment as the air was taken from his lungs. He ended up gasping as the cloudless sky hung above him almost mockingly. There was a fluff of black dotting his view and for a moment, he thought that he was passing out.

Until something cold pressed itself against his cheek.

Allen flinched away from it before he noticed that it was the nose of a large, black dog. He sighed in relief and slowly reached up to pet it behind the ear. "So you're my intruder," he muttered. Then he dropped his hand and instead tried to sit up. His chest ached but none of his ribs seemed to be broken. "Reminds me of when the troll hit me." He glanced over at the dog. "What are you doing here, anyways? Do you have an owner?"

He didn't recieve a response, not that he had expected one. Allen checked it's neck for a collar or a tag. The dog's eyes seemed to shine with intelligence. He held his fist to his chin as he debated the existence of a magical dog. They're weren't any that fit the charactersitics. "Hm, no owner. Perhaps I can ask Dumbledore if he would allow you to stay in the cast- Where are you going?"

The dog had pulled away and gone streaking straight to the Forbidden Forest at his words.

Allen came back to the tree the next day with food. He waited patiently until the dog appeared and gave it to him. He ate it gratefully and sat by Allen easily enough when he decided to talk to it. It was a simple thing such as how his day had gone, how he couldn't interact much with the Golden Trio because he was still frustrated with Ron, and how he ended up in the library helping Neville with his homework.

"I can get you more food, you know," Allen had stated when he took in the skeletal figure of the dog. "You just got to meet me here."

It was strange on how the dog seemed to understand him.


Halloween was buzzing with students. It was really giving Allen a headache because every noise seemed amplified. He couldn't remember Halloween being so loud. And the smell of all that food overpowered his smell but that he didn't mind as much. The food smelled delicious.

"You look unwell," Luna told him as he sat beside her.

"Headache." He smiled politely at her. He didn't want to mention that his body hurt and felt as though it were being weighed down. He had searched up Dementors and was surprised to find that instead of sucking out the soul and destroyed someone mentally, they shouldn't cause any actual pain. Not like how he was feeling. And Harry had said that he was alright after coming across them.

"Are you going to go to Hogsmeade," she questioned.

"No, I don't think so. A town full of excited students is not what I need."

She nodded in agreement.

So while everyone else in his year and above went to Hogsmeade, Allen found himself outside Lupin's classroom.

"Allen," he asked with surprise after opening the door. "You're not going?"

"Too noisy," was his response. He held up a deck of cards. "Seeing that I have to wait to gamble, would you enjoy a harmless card game with me?"

Lupin smiled faintly and allowed him to enter. A Grindylow was watching from the corner of the room. The next lesson, he presumed. They played for some time, Allen basking happily in the near-quiet as he beat Lupin in cards a couple of times.

"Before we begin the third round of my defeat," Lupin checked the time. "I need to do something."

Allen agreed and Lupin left the classroom. In his boredom, he shuffled the cards with practiced ease. Tim had settled on his head as they waited and soon, they were not only rejoined with Lupin's presence but with Harry's.

"Oh, have you come to play as well?" he asked.

"Er..."

"I ran into Harry just outside," Lupin informed. "I asked if he wanted to see the Grindylow."

"Ah. Well, it's over there." He motioned to the corner of the room.

Harry asked Lupin about why he hadn't let the ravenette face the Boggart when it was his turn.

"I assumed that if a Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort."

Harry corrected him by saying that he feared Dementors.

"That suggests that what you fear most of all is fear. Very wise."

"What is it that scares Allen," Harry had asked, shooting a glance at the Slytherin. He paused in the midst of dealing his cards. "You took out a wall..."

A faint tinge of pink colored Allen's cheeks as he chuckled weakly. "You fear fear and I fear despair. Or- the ruin that comes from despair."

He nodded but it was obvious that he didn't entirely understand.

A knock sounded and Lupin asked for them to enter. It was Snape, with a steaming goblet.

Wolfsbane potion, he thought, recognizing the scent. He had concocted one of those before during Snape's extra lessons. It smelled just as foul as his own had but was definitely stronger. Wolfsbane potion was primarily used for werewolves.

Harry and Allen had to leave with Lupin's obvious dismissel.

"What do you think was in that potion," Harry asked as they walked.

"Nothing harmful." He was tucking his cards back into his pocket. "I recognized the potion."

"Really? What was it?"

Allen's thoughts flickered on the goblet. Werewolves were frowned upon in Wizard society. He didn't think that Lupin would very much like it if Allen told Harry, which was undoubtedly going to reach Hermione and Ron. Besides, it wasn't his secret to tell.

"Lupin has an illness," he began slowly. "And that potion is specifically tailored to helping him deal with it."

Harry didn't seem to believe it.


The school was on high alert after Black's attack on Gryffindor for the next few weeks. The upcoming Quidditch match seemed just what Allen and everyone needed to get their minds off everything in order to relax. His first match would be in icy rain and strong winds. And he couldn't help but admit that he was excited.

"We're not playing them," Draco informed informed Allen cheerfully the day before the match.

He was really trying not to punch Draco in his grinning face.

"I apologize for my team's lack of tact or brain cells." He bowed in front of Oliver Wood, Gryffindor captain. "I was looking forward towards our game."

Wood looked befuddled at the thought of a Slytherin, even Allen, bowing to him He had gone into the horrible weather and apologized.

"There's nothing we can do about it," Wood responded as he straightened up. "We have to focus on our match with Hufflepuff but I look forward to our match."

"Provided that my team could play honorably," he grumbled. Then he smiled at Wood. "I'd wish you good luck but... well, you don't want my luck."

"We need all the luck we can get."

"Not mine."

So when the match of Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff began, Allen could be found in the stands with Luna and Neville. Luna was cheering for both teams, Neville was going for his, and Allen was busy shifting his attention between both teams to assess their strategies.

Harry was diving after the Hufflepuff Seeker when he felt that intense cold sweep through his very being. Allen could hear both Luna and Neville calling his name before he was washed back into the darkness.

His body was at it's limit.

Allen huffed as he glared at the only Akuma remaining; a Level 4. Lenalee had fallen unconscious and Miranda's Time Out was what had been protecting her. Allen knew that was the best she could do. If she were to stop and switch to Time Recovery, her stamina would run out and Lenalee would be defenseless.

He hated on how he was so useless. On how his body was always lit up with pain. He hated being weak.

The Akuma raised it's cannons with a predatory smile on it's face. Allen scowled. Even if the virus didn't kill him, the bullet itself would. He had no way to move and no where to hide. This was it.

BANG.

His eyes widened with utmost horror. A figure had appeared in front of him, her silhouette outstretched as though inviting the bullet to her chest. She slammed into Allen, who moved to hold her despite the heavy weights that seemed to have settled on his body.

"M-Miranda!"

"Allen..." The woman's chest was bleeding but she didn't seem bothered by it. Even as black stars began to spread across her skin, she reached up and held her hand against Allen's cheek. "It's... up to you now..."

Blood fell from her lips.

"Thank you... for thanking me... For saving... me..."

Then Miranda Lotto collapsed into dust.


When Allen opened his eyes, it was to see Lavi staring down at him. He blinked at the redheaded teenager once, twice even, before he spoke.

"...Miranda."

He jerked back with wide eyes, obviously not having expected Allen to say that. The teenager gave a grunt before forcing himself to sit upright and take a look around. There was a multitude of beds. He frowned as he took in the room. "Where am I?"

"The Hospital Wing," Lenalee had answered from where she was sitting on the bed.

"The Hospital Wing," he repeated as his enviroment came back to him. Then he slumped back onto his pillows and stared up at the ceiling. "Oh."

"You said Miranda." Lavi glanced over at Lenalee. "Is that what the Dementors showed you?"

The Slytherin hummed in confirmation. His head felt like someone had mistaken his brain for a drum kit. "Is that why you two are here?"

"Yep." The Ravenclaw rubbed his arms. "Dementors are horrible creatures. The worst the past of a person, the more severe our reactions. Lenalee, Yuu, and I woke up this morning. Pomfrey wants us to stay another night for observation. Yuu decided that he was going to walk out anyways."

"How is BaKanda a Hufflepuff?" Allen scowled at the door as though Kanda might be behind it. "He seems like a Slytherin to me."

"Do you want him in the same House as you?"

"No."

Lenalee giggled quietly. Madam Pomfrey came scurrying in a little later.

"Patton, bed."

"Aw, but I wanted to talk to the Beansprout a little longer."

"My name is Allen," he hissed.

"Oh, it's good to see that you're awake, Allen. How do you feel?"

"I have a headache," he responded honestly as he sat up. "I feel a little chilly and there are some aches but other than that, I'm fine."

"That sounds like the average symptoms of a Dementor," she admitted. "You have visitors as well. Would you like for them to visit while I fix you up a potion."

"Ah, yes please."

The witch hurried off. A couple moments later, an "Allen" could be heard and he found hinself nearly strangled to death in black and red robes.

"N-Neville," he choked. "I can't breath!"

"I thought you died or something. You've been motionless for days and I didn't know what happened-"

"But you're fine now and that's what matters," Luna added as she walked up to the bed. She held out something. "Here, I got you a Chocolate Frog."

"We were suppose to brings gifts!?" Neville looked absolutely horrified. "If I had known..."

"It doesn't matter." Allen smiled as he laughed lightly at Neville's reaction. "Here, would you like some help on your homework?"

"Y-you've just woken up, hadn't you? You don't have to tutor me right now."

"Nonesense." He nodded his head to the bookbag still attached to the Gryffindor. "We can get Potions out of the way like we always do."

"...Okay."

Madam Pomfrey came back to give Allen the potion and seemed to debate whether or not to tell him off for doing schoolwork when Harry and his friends entered, all of them looking relieved with Timcanoy flapping behind them. She decided against it when Allen affectionately rubbed his cheek against his golem's face.

"I'm glad that I'm not the only one who fell unconscious," the ravenette commented when Tim was free to fly once more.

"Harry!" Hermione reprimanded sharply.

"Hey, I fainted too," went Lavi.

"You deserve it," Ron shot back.

"Ouch." The Ravenclaw rested a hand on his chest. "That is so not true, Ronnikins." Luna decided to pipe up.

"You do."

"Luna! You wound my pride!"

Needless to say, everyone was amused.

When night fell and Lavi and Lenalee had fallen asleep, Allen stared up at the ceiling. He had taken Pomfrey's potion hours ago but it hadn't even begun working. His head was still hurting and the coldness in his body was replaced by aches and pains. He had thought that a nightly walk would do, even if it was around in the infirmary. However, when Allen got to his feet, his vision swam and the room swayed. He pressed his hand to his head and screwed his eyes shut in hopes that it would stop.

It didn't stop but it did get bearable enough for him to make his way toi te nearest window and push it open. The cool air felt good against Allen's skin and he rested his head on the frame as he stared out into the cloudy night. His fingers flit up towards his left shoulder, where the pain in his body felt more prominent.

He gave it a small squeeze.


At the start of Christmas break, Allen was told of Black's relation to Harry. Of how he was James Potter's best friend. Something about it didn't sound right to Allen. Black waits twelve years to escape Azkaban, attacks the Gryffindor tower to get inside during Halloween (he was doubting that it was lucky chance at all that it happened during the feast) and betrays what what his best friend for Voldemort?

"Don't go searching for him yet," Allen advised.

"Why?" Harry's tone was dull. "Because it's dangerous?"

Yes, Hermione and Ron had been lecturing him on this.

"No." Allen made sure to keep his tone calm and even. "Because we don't have all the facts."

"He helped kill my parents! What other facts do I need!?"

"Oh?" Allen tilted his head. "So you're a hundred percent sure that Sirius Black helped Voldemort murder your parents?"

"No but that's what everyone's saying! That Black was the one to do it!"

"Harry, our world is constantly embedded with magic. You can't trust the words of others because they might have either been deceived or are the decievers. The only thing you can do is to see it for yourself."

After he manged to quell Harry from thoughts of revenge, he later found himself in the library with the Golden Trio scanning the contents for things about Hippogriffs. Hagrid had gotten a letter saying that Buckbeak would be held on trial. Hearing the thudding of books continued to amplify the headache that's clung to Allen's skull since his last catatonic spell from the Dementors. He knew that he was being quieter than usual, didn't fall into their playful banter like he normally did, but that was simply because he didn't have the energy to.

"Is something wrong with Allen," Hermione whispered to Harry as she watched him disappear behind a couple of bookcases. "He's been acting strange all year."

"The Dementors affect him worse than me," the Gryffindor replied just as quietly. Then he remembered what Lupin had said about why he fainted as opposed to most others in the school. "I think he has a really bad past."

"Didn't he grow up in an orphanage?"

Yes and no. According to his Chocolate Frog, Allen had survived a war. He had to of seen things that nobody else had. He just didn't remember. So instead of answering Hermione's question, Harry merely shrugged.

"I believe I'm going to call it quits for today." Allen had returned from around a bookcase with a pile of books stacked up to his nose. "I'll check these out, read them tomorrow, and get back to you on this as soon as I possibly can."

The next day, Allen was sitting just out of reach of the Whomping Willow as he marked down pages that would be essential to Hagrid's case and gave the black dog, who he christened Dog, some scraps. He was looking a lot better compared to the first time Allen had met him.

"The Dementors are what's doing this to me." He had taken a break and laid sprawled in the snow. The cold was very soothing to him recently. Normally, he wouldn't be out here without a jacket. "That's all it is. And the funny thing is that my left arm doesn't hurt at all. But where Innocence becomes flesh..." He frowned as he focused on it. "That hurts the most..."

Dog whined and pressed his nose into Allen's left hand.


Christmas Day wasn't as bad as he had expected. Draco had gone home for the holidays as well as the other two. He almost had the Commons to himself, save for one boy, and tried to enjoy the Christmas cheer. Lavi, Kanda, Lenalee, Luna, and Neville had gone home as well. He was just arriving into the Great Hall when he came across a witch that he hasn't seen before.

"Hello, Walker," she said in a misty way that reminded him of Luna. "On your way to eat, I presume?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Yes. I was crystal gazing when I saw myself sitting in the Great Hall for lunch."

He then knew who it was that he was talking to. Sybill Trelawney. He smiled politely at her before approaching the table and taking the only vacant seat next to the mitarashi dango.

"You're all fortunate that I have arrived," Trelawney had said when she counted the chairs. "Thirteen is an unlucky number. The first to rise is usually the first to die."

As Dumbledore conjured her a seat and Timcanpy flew to the table to gobble up one of the dangos, Allen found himself frowning. "I tend to think of fourteen as an unlucky number.

"Oh no, dearie. It's thirteen."

McGonagall had a sneaky, snarky comment to say about that.

A couple hours of eating and chatter filled up the day before both Ron and Harry took off. Then Hermione told McGonagall all about a Firebolt that Harry had gotten for Christmas. He grabbed some extra food from the table before leaving the Great Hall so that he could feed Dog. He didn't want Dog to be alone on the holidays.

Ba-dum.

Unfortunately for him, a throbbing headache overcame Allen with such a magnitude that his vision blurred and he found himself on his hands and feet. Small clouds of smoke escaped his lips as he tried focusing his eyesight. When he saw what his skin was showing between the sleeve of his robe and glove begin to darken, he figured that he was hallucinating. And his shoulder felt as though it was being stabbed.

A nudge from Dog was all it took for Allen to adjust his train of thoughts elsewhere. When he blinked and was able to see, his skin was back to its usual paleness. Dog whined worriedly at Allen as he forced himself to his feet.

"I'm fine," he panted. But he didn't understand what that was. An attack? Mental maybe? Could the food have been poisoned? He felt weaker than he had ever been. A leaf would be able to push him over if it wanted. No, there's no way the food at Hogwarts was poisoned.

Dog seemed worried. He wasn't the only one. Especially when it happened again.

On the last day of the holidays, Allen and Timcanpy came across Hermione in the library. She was working almost feverishly on her schoolwork. Her eyes looked red and an occasional sniffle escaped her- she was crying.

"What are you doing in here," he inquired as he entered, trying to make it seem as though he hadn't realized her distress.

"Harry and Ron are mad at me," Hermione began. "Because he got a Firebolt, one of the best brooms, and McGonagall took it away to get it tested on. I want Harry to be safe... It could have been sent by Black for all we know."

"So to deal with the weight of their anger, you decided to come to the library..." He eyed the table in front of her. "And redo all of your homework."

"I just felt like I could have done better. I double-checked it and now I have to completely rewrite Flitwick's assignment-"

"Hermione."

"-and I'm not sure of the accuracy on my Arithmancy charts-"

"Hermione."

"-not to mention that the runes in Babbling's class has double meanin- Hey!" In order to get her attention, he had closed her book. "I was working on that!"

He shook his head, having made a decision on what he was going to do for today. "This is the last day of the holiday and what you want to do is work? I think not. Here, help me put your stuff up."

She did so begrudgingly. Her bag was stuffed with books so much that it was ripping at the seams. After everything had been crammed in there, he shook his head. "You and you're thirst for knowledge. Sometimes I wonder why you weren't a Ravenclaw."

"Because I'm courageous."

"Courageous. So that's what you call it. I admit, I thought that it would be something else."

Hermione made a face and shoved him playfully. Allen gaped at her in return before looking offended. Her expression wavered before he grinned and he playfully shoved her back. She tried to do the same but he bounded out of reach. Then he held up her bag with a smile. "Let's see if you can get your schoolwork back."

"Allen!"

Hermione chased Allen out of the library and down the halls. Her constant laughter was refreshing in showing that he wasn't taking this game too far. He was also quite surprised when she kept up some, even if her stamina waned more quickly than his. When they made it to the stairs, Allen didn't even bother with the steps and slid down the rail.

"That's not fair," he heard Hermione call as he pushed the doors to the entrance hall open.

Snow still packed the castle grounds. Allen set Hermione's back near the steps before moving a couple feet away and scooped up a pile of snow. When she came out of the castle, a snowball greeted her in the face.

"Allen!" she shrieked. Then she grabbed some snow and flung her own snowball at him.

Allen wasn't sure just how long they stayed in the snow. He was happy that Hermione was feeling a lot better than before. When he had recieved his last snowball, the two decided to call it quits and rest in the snow.

"...Maybe I shouldn't have told McGonagall," Hermione admitted after about five minutes.

"And why is that?"

"Because if there is nothing wrong with it, then they'll rub it in my face!"

"And if there was?"

"Then... then..." Hermione's face contorted in frustration. "Then I told them so!" She paused. "But... if there isn't..."

"Hermione..." Allen sighed. "Friends will get mad at friends. It's what people do. You cared for their safety even when they didn't. So yes, they'll be mad at you. Everyone is entitled to their emotions. Just... don't let their feelings disrupt your resolve."

Hermione bit her lip and looked down at the snow. "Did... you have any friends that got mad at you?"

"Why did you stop me!?"

There was a glare and a sharp slap.

"Because we're friends!"

"Yes..." Allen held his hand to his cheek as the memory flit in his mind. A soft smile made its way onto his lips. "I got slapped for it."

Alarm flit across Hernione's face.

"Don't worry, I'm sure that I had done something incredibly stupid and deserved it."

"You don't know what you had done?"

"Not in the least." He got up to his feet and held out his hand. "Let's head back inside-"

Ba-dum.

"A-Allen!" Hermione moved to help Allen when he staggered and nearly fell, clutching his left shoulder. She jerked her hands away almost as soon as her hands met his shoulders. "You're burning up! Did you come outside sick!?"

"I'm... I'm fine," he managed to say in between huffs. His eyes were screwed shut and head tilted towards the ground as he tried to will the pain away. "Give me a moment..."

"No, you're not alright." Hermione leaned over to give a stern but worried look at Allen's face. Then she released a sharp gasp. "You skin is becoming gray!"

"Medical condition," he grunted, his fingers digging into his shoulder. "It'll go away... in a moment..."

And it was, leaving Allen mostly painless and breathing heavily.

"I've never seen a medical condition like that," Hermione stated.

'You better spin some tale,' the voice advised. And as Allen spoke, he improvised.

"It's a rare condition," he began slowly as his throbbing brain turned rapidly. "Magical and inherited. One of my parents must have had it."

"Can it be cured?"

'If only...'

He shook his head, deciding to follow the voice on this. "It can't be cured or treated. It just... comes and goes. All I have to do is endure it. I haven't had this in... well, years."

"Does..." Hermione hesitated. "Does it kill people?"

"No, not as far as I know." He looked pleadingly at her. "You can't tell anyone about this. Not Harry and Ron, no one."

"What? Why not?"

"I don't want to be treated differently. Dumbledore knows, so do some of the teachers, but I don't want special treatment. Promise me, Hermione."

"O-okay, I promise."

Allen relaxed, having felt a lot better about this now. Better, but still a little guilty. Because he knew that everything he said was a lie. He didn't know if it killed, no one but her knew about it, and it isn't a condition that came from blood heritage. Or at least he didn't think it did.

"We should head inside now..." Allen got to his feet and helped Hermione to hers. He still felt weak and he probably looked pale but he smiled at Hermione anyways. "I'm starving."

At least he got a weak giggle from that.


The match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw was... difficult for Allen. He didn't expect the booming of the crowd to hurt his ears as much as it did and aggravate his head worse. But it got easier when they were flying. He had nearly unseated one of the Chasers with a Bludger but he was yelled at by Bole to tone down his strength.

Apparently the other Slytherin Beater couldn't hit it properly.

It might have been fun if Allen's aching body hadn't ruined it for him. But he kept playing until the end of the game, his efforts being what pulled Slytherin just barely past the Ravenclaws.

"We're going to wipe the floor with those Gryffindors," Draco went cheerfully.

Hermione's relationship with the boys seemed like it was going to clean uo when he saw McGonagall give Harry back his Firebolt but the next day, she was just as upset as ever. Crookshanks might have eaten Scabbers. He tried his best to make her feel better as he helped her with the Hippogriff work and her own schoolwork at Hagrid's during the afternoon, which was slowly piling up.

And then Sirius Black seemed to have successfully broken into Gryffindor's Tower.

"Why would he run," Ron asked after boasting about the confrontation.

It was yet another thing to add to Black's list of peculiarities. Neville was upset about the fact that he was the one to lose the passwords that allowed a murder into the building. When he received a Howler from his grandma in the morning, Allen was the first person he presented it to. He regarded the smoking envelope for a moment before deciding that Neville had enough punishment.

"Tarentief."

And then it was gone. Neville was relieved.

Hermione had come to Allen during breakfast one morning to show her the letter Hagrid had sent her saying that him and Buckbeak lost. So they were there in their next Care of Magical Creatures class with the Golden Trio trying to cheer him up. Hagrid was so upset.

A pile of ash in a jar... Timcanpy...

"Look at him blubber!"

Allen had been immensely quiet during the class and remained that way back to the castle.

"Have you seen anything quite as pathetic? And he's suppose to be our-"

Smack.

Allen barely registered his fist flying towards Draco's face. The blond went flying to the floor as both Gregory and Vincent lunged at Allen. He ducked under Gregory's outstretched arms and swept Vincent's legs out from under him. The large boy crashed to the ground shortly before the teenager's foot met his face. Sensing an oncoming attack, Allen whipped around just in time to catch Gregory's fist. Imagine his look of surprise before Allen pulled him close and elbowed him right in the nose. He was hit hard enough to fall to the ground.

Draco had gotten to his feet in the midst of all this and Allen descended upon him before he could even think to run, pinning the boy to the wall with his arm.

"Have you ever lost someone close to you," Allen snarled. He was so tired of all of his childish actions. "A family, a pet, a friend?"

Terrified, Draco shook his head.

"Then you don't understand what it feels like when someone takes something important away from you. To know that their death was resulted by someone else's actions. That Hippogriff you sent to death meant something to someone. What if someone decided to murder your mother or father randomly one day? How would you feel to know that you would never sit at their table? To never hear their voice when you walk through your manor? To know that their life was cut short by someone you can't touch?"

Draco gulped.

"That's the pain that Hagrid is facing, Draco. Pain a little boy like you does not understand. And people who create that pain, just like you have, end up being no better than Voldemort."

The blond flinched and Allen backed up, satisfied with what he had said. Then he stalked into the great entrance with the Golden Trio following close behind.

"Don't you have Potions next?"

"Buckbeak's appeal is more important," he responded. "You should head onto your next class."

"I mean, you punched Malfoy." Ron seemed impressed. "Are you okay?"

No. He could barely think through his splintering skull, every move he made hurt his body, and his shoulder hurts tremendously enough that he's surprised he could still move it. All of what he was feeling, he was thinking, were transferred into three calm words. "I'm quite alright."

They looked dubious, Hermione even more so, before they departed.

The Quidditch game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was rising and the Slytherin were upset with Allen's refusal to practice.

"I'm not good at taking orders from corruption," he told them flatly.

"You're the best Beater we got," Bole explained.

"I'm sure you'll manage somehow. I don't want to be in Draco's company."

He was glad that he hadn't participated in the game. He could hear Lee Jordan's commentry from the Whomping Willow and it sounded like it was a very dirty match. Mostly from his team. Allen shook his head and sat down. A good decision on his part because he was having another wave of pain.

"I'm fine," he murmured after a while as he laid on his back and stared up at the bright sky. Dog laid next to him in what seemed to be comfort and Timcanpy's wing brushed his cheek. "I just have to tough it out. It'll pass. It has to."

After Slytherin's loss, exam season came rolling by. Allen had to be sure that he closely monitored how he felt so as to not worry his friends. He almost slipped up twice. One happened in the library when he was helping Neville study. Thankfully he was alone in the section he was looking in. And next he was walking down the empty hallway with Luna and had to lean against the wall for support. She didn't ask any questions like Hermione did but her presence was far more soothing.

"You're eyes are a pretty gold," she had said.

On the last day of the exams, Allen got to finish up with Defense Against the Dark Arts. He did really well, up until he got into the trunk with a Boggart. He found it to be a really great thing that this was Lupin's last class because that one had been obliterated as well.

"Sorry Professor," he stated as he sheepishly rubbed his upper lip. "It seems that I had overreacted again."

"It's fine," Lupin responded in amusement. And then Allen once-more found every pain of his amplified. His hand subconsciously fell to his shoulder as his knees buckled. "Allen!"

Lupin had caught him. The Slytherin kept his head down so that his hair could hide his face. He knew that his skin must have turned gray and wanted to keep Lupin's knowledge out of it. It would be easier if he could see clearly. He grit his teeth and pushed off of Lupin.

"I used... more magic than I intended..." he lied. "I'll... go to Madam... Pomfrey's."

"I'll go with you."

'Don't let him.'

"I can make it."

And with great effort, Allen began walking in the direction of the castle. He could feel Lupin's eyes on him as he moved. He must have been halfway there before his skull felt like it had been cleaved with an axe. This time, he actually did fall to his knees. His eyes widened when something warm dripped down his face and red droplets fell onto the grass.

Blood.

"Allen," he heard Lupin call worriedly. Allen could hear him running towards him from where he stayed.

'No, it's too dangerous for him.' The pain on his left shoulder made it hard to breath. 'Go to the Forbidden Forest. Run.'

He wasn't exactly sure how he got to his feet. The next thing he knew, Allen was tearing across the grounds to the forest. He could hear Lupin calling for him but ignored it. He wasn't sure how Lupin was in danger when he was the one in agony but didn't question it. The voice sounded certain and there was always time to get the answer.

Allen tripped over some tree roots and his robe got snagged on branches but he didn't dare stop. Not until he couldn't go any farther and yet another wave of pain sent him colliding with the dirt. Panting heavily, he turned over on his back and stared up at the leaves.

When the pain flared up again, he admitted... he was screaming.

The pain in his shoulder surpassed the one in his head. It seared so much that he was actually wishing that someone could come by and cut it off.

'You don't remember,' the voice whispered. 'Not everything. It will hurt less if you remembered.'

But he didn't want to remember and he sure as hell didn't want to hurt. Just get rid of his arm. There had to be a spell that could slice it off. He didn't care how cleanly or even if it would kill him. He already felt as though he were dying.

Digging deeply into the pocket of his robes, Allen found his wand and gripped it tightly in his hand. Then he fought to sit up so that he gound look at his shoulder as properly as possible. Focusing on the spell he used on the troll a couple years back, he aimed his wand at his shoulder.

Then a small voice made him pause. His pain-hazed brain seemed to freeze all track of thought with just one word.

"Allen!"


Okay, so I had my own ideas about Allen's Noah transformation and might've gotten carried away. To be honest, it feels like the closer I got to writing it, the more the details disappeared. I did get the main points down, the Boggart and the Dementors both being instruments of Allen's Awakening. It's one of the two reasons why I was so hyped about it. I'll definitely come back to this one and read it over with a fresh mind. And the second reason... :D Next chapter.

Funfact: Allen's body is technically two years older than the students of his year. But since his actual age and birthday is ambiguous, no one can tell the difference between it. I'll also give you a treat on the next chapter on how old the Allen actually is in this story.

~MillenniaPhoenix - Trust me, you'll see Black Allen more later on. My plot must continue! Once I finish (if I get to that point first), I might go back and rewrite some chapters if I find faults in them (most often, it's my pacing I gotta work on). I do have to go back anyways and fix spelling errors... Also, you said "don't you dare". I had to

~Allenfan - Yay! Thanks! And the one thing I've really had a problem on stories like this is with how other people write the MC and how they are once regaining their memories. I doubt that I'm much better, since I don't know jack about memory loss or regaining that memory. But the way I've read other people do it, it's like they go back to who they were before without any influence of what had to happen to them presently to help them remember. And that virtually helped me figure out how to write about half of this book. The other half will be a little more difficult but I do have an idea for the endgame and am working towards that. Yes, there is more to this.