Here I thank my friends, whom I shall call "Scott" and "Steph", for reading this as I write it and I guess being my betas, though in a much less official and still very helpful way. Most of the reason I am writing this story so quickly (but nowhere near regularly, I know) is their appreciation for, comments about, and enjoyment of the story. Shout out goes to "Scott", who only this evening made it clear to me that the only alcohol Flitwick could ever be drinking was sherry, and "Steph", whose enthusiasm for Draco Malfoy's personality transplant gave me some eeeeenteresting ideas for down the track.
Also, everyone who reads this, whether or not you favourite it, follow it, or not, hi, and hope you enjoy. Because I certainly do.
Daniel woke feeling strangely muzzy, and far too hot, under two blankets with the curtains closed around his bed. Feeling suddenly smothered, he sat up so he could stick his head out through the curtain break.
"So what on earth have you done to Draco?" Theo asked as soon as he saw Daniel's head.
Daniel hardly heard him; he'd moved his head way too fast, and his ears were ringing like crazy. "What about Draco?" he asked, closing his eyes and staying perfectly still.
"Why is he acting all big brother over you?" Theo said.
"Dunno," Daniel said, slowly moving back to lie down and dragging his thoughts to Draco Malfoy. "He said he was trying something new. It was horrible."
"How are you now?"
"Kind of dizzy," Daniel said, rolling his head around cautiously. "What time is it?"
"Three thirty," Theo said.
Daniel would have sat bolt upright if his brain hadn't been knocking around in his head so much. "In the afternoon?" he asked in disbelief.
"Sure," Theo said. "He actually said you might not wake up until after dinner, so I think this is good news."
"He? He who?"
"Ass," Theo said.
Daniel could hear the smile in his voice. "Hilarious," he said. "Now tell me what's been going on."
"You crashed in the office, he said it would be best not to give you anything else, so we brought you back up here. We told everyone you caught the rough end of a Weasley attack. He wants to see you when you're up, but said not to rush it. He says you'll know why."
That was helpful, but still didn't fill in all the gaps. Like why he'd crashed in the first place. He hesitated to ask, though. It might have because of the Occlumency, which wasn't something he could discuss with Theo.
"Okay," he said. "Thanks."
"Blaise is in the hospital wing, so you've been fine in here," Theo added casually.
"Right. The curse," Daniel said. "How's he holding up?"
Theo made a small suspicious sound. "What curse?" he said.
"Oh, I shouldn't have said that," Daniel said, feeling only a little guilty, and that for Daphne's sake. "I didn't really see anything, I just heard he was cursed."
"Oh," Theo said. "That's what you were talking about before, in the corridor. We had no idea what you meant with the bleeding and everything."
"Right," Daniel said, completely at sea. "How's Blaise holding up?"
"Oh, he's okay," Theo said dismissively. "Pomfrey's got him in hand. Can you get up?"
Daniel sighed. "Don't really want to."
"Go to sleep again if you want," Theo said. "It can only be good for you."
"Homework," Daniel said glumly. "History essay due, I didn't do any yesterday. And I haven't done any Defence work all year."
"Get a pass from Snape," Theo suggested. "Binns won't care, and you don't care about Lupin."
"I should talk to Flitwick, too," Daniel said, thinking aloud. "See if I can skip Charms practicals."
"He won't let you," Theo said. "He'll give you something else to do, maybe, but he's not giving you only half Charms. He's not like that."
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Daniel insisted on wandering around on his own to talk to Flitwick, and to Snape. But before that, he walked up to the hospital wing, to talk to Blaise.
Daphne was beside his bed, slouching in her chair, eyes half-closed. She held one of Blaise's hands in her lap and was absently stroking his fingers.
"Hey," Daniel said softly. "How are you?"
She blinked at him, looking owlish. "How am I?" she asked.
Daniel shrugged. "You look tired."
"And you don't care how he is," she said grimly.
"It doesn't really bother me, no," Daniel said. "Can I sit here?"
She gripped Blaise's hand a little tighter, and nodded. Daniel looked around for a chair, and dragged one over. "Is the curse lifted?"
Her mouth twisted unpleasantly, and she shook her head. "Pomfrey says it might take a few days."
"Do you know who did it?" Daniel asked, keeping his voice low.
"Why do you want to know?" she asked, eyes glinting in anger. "You ready with a bouquet?"
"Hardly," Daniel said, determined not to take offence. "I don't have much love for corridor cursers."
She sighed. "I know," she said. "I'm sorry."
"Has he woken up?"
She shook her head.
"Sorry," Daniel said.
"He's not dead," she said fiercely. "And he's not dying. Don't you dare say sorry to me."
A sleepy noise came from the bed. Daniel got up quickly without looking, and wandered to the window on the other side of the room. He looked down at the grounds to distract him from the quiet conversation coming from the bed.
There were students scattered all over, taking advantage of the weak afternoon sunlight to study, chat or just get some air. He spotted Dean and Seamus lying a short distance from Brown and Patil the Gryffindor, but couldn't tell what they were doing. He glanced across to the forest, thinking back to the dog, and its familiarity with the school grounds.
"Livingstone," Blaise said stonily. Daniel turned from the window to see him sitting up in his bed, hand still clasped in Daphne's. "Daphne said you helped yesterday, so I'm very grateful to you." The words looked like they cost him; he grimaced and turned away.
Daniel headed over, after glancing at Daphne to check that she didn't disapprove. "No problem," he said.
When Blaise turned back to him, his expression was open and artless. "I don't know anything about Caden," he said simply. "I just had a dream where you said it to Snape, and he treated it like a secret. I don't even know what it means. I thought it was interesting and something I could hold over you."
"Oh," Daniel said, bemused. "Thanks for telling me."
"It's only decent," he said, face closed again. "Now can you please go, and give us some peace."
Daniel stared at him for a moment longer, then looked to Daphne.
"Get Pomfrey, please," she said. "Then go do whatever it is you do."
Daniel did as she asked.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Flitwick was next, but Daniel didn't have an appointment to see him, or much of an idea what he usually did on the weekends. So he went up to the man's office, then into the Charms classroom, and then down to the staffroom, where he found the door open and McGonagall and Babbling drinking tea together in a companionable silence. McGonagall looked like she might be marking at the same time; she was reading something with a small frown, and had a stack of parchment piled up by her right hand.
"Do you know where Flitwick is?" he asked from the doorway, trying to think of somewhere else he might find him.
"Professor Flitwick, Mr. Livingstone," McGonagall said, mouth pursed in disapproval.
"Yeah," Daniel said. "I looked in his office, and in the classroom, but I don't really know how I can find him. I need to ask him something."
"You will need to make an appointment," McGonagall said dismissively.
"I don't know how to find him to make an appointment," Daniel said, holding back from rolling his eyes. Snape might, might allow that, in a good mood, but McGonagall was stiff as a plank, and a whole lot more touchy. Especially when it came to Slytherins.
"It might be easiest if you speak to him around dinnertime," Babbling said pleasantly. "He's not always in the castle during the day on weekends."
McGonagall narrowed her eyes slightly at her colleague, then turned back to Daniel. "You need to show a great deal more respect for the adults around you, Mr. Livingstone," she said sternly. "To do otherwise would be detrimental to both you and your house."
"I'll keep that in mind," Daniel said, turning to leave.
"I don't think that's the way to —" he heard, Babbling's voice fading out as he walked quickly down the corridor.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
There was no reason for him to tell Livingstone, Snape decided. He had been so adamant about secrecy earlier, that to reveal the truth would seriously undermine the trust he had so bizarrely given his head of house. Dumbledore had assured Snape that Livingstone would not remember, so things could simply remain as they had been.
He wasn't feeling guilty. Just because the boy trusted him not to do certain things didn't make it a betrayal when he did them. He had, after all, given no promises beyond I will do as I think best, and that was exactly what he had done. He had acted to save Livingstone's mind, and if the boy couldn't accept that, then he wasn't worth any pangs Snape might be feeling.
It helped his composure considerably when the presumptuous boy opened the door without knocking, and strode in without so much as looking at Snape.
"Go back and knock," he said sternly.
Livingstone caught himself about halfway across the room, turned smoothly, returned to the closed door and knocked quietly. "May I come in?" he asked softly.
"Come and sit down," Snape instructed him. "I trust you are feeling better?"
"Better than what?" the boy asked bluntly. "Last thing I remember is that blank room, casting some stuff. Trying, anyway. Then I woke up all funny like a day later, and here I am."
"After our Occlumency session, you became exhausted, and though I roused you briefly, you needed an extended sleep to return wholly to your senses," Snape said, entirely truthfully.
"Will that happen every time?" Livingstone asked, looking disgruntled. "It's an awfully long amount of time to lose."
"I have reason to believe that this issue can be cleared up more quickly than I had originally predicted," Snape said. "The procedure may be exhausting, but it should not occur too often."
"So you found out some stuff, then?" Livingstone asked, perking up. "You know how to fix it?"
"Yes," Snape said.
"Theo said Draco was helping me," the boy said casually. "Did you make him?"
"I believe he was concerned for you," Snape said, watching him closely. "He was the first to identify your vulnerable state, and to take steps to shield you."
"Oh," Livingstone said, clearly as mystified by Malfoy's behaviour as Snape was. "That was nice of him," he continued inanely. "Did you know Blaise is in the hospital wing?"
A pointed look was all that was necessary to answer such a ridiculous question.
"What was the curse?"
"That is most definitely not your concern," Snape told him.
"Can you write me a pass for my homework?" the boy said, for all the world like it logically followed from his previous questions.
Snape waited.
"Will you please write me a pass for my homework?" Livingstone said through gritted teeth.
He was tempted to wait for a sir as well, but instead listened to the part of him that knew he shouldn't push the boy too far. "What homework do you have?" he asked, pulling out some parchment and hovering his quill over the inkwell.
"History essay, and some Defence," Livingstone said. "I should be able to finish the Charms this evening, and I'll have time tomorrow to catch up for Tuesday."
"What reason would you like me to put?" Snape asked, mulling over what might be the best thing to write.
From the look on the boy's face, that was a courtesy he had not been expecting. "Um, maybe that I had to work on this block thing, they can't deny that's true. You don't have to say anything specific, do you?"
"I do not," Snape said. Before he could put quill to parchment, his Floo flared and Dumbledore was in the office.
Livingstone jolted horribly, then his face closed up completely and he stared at the wall past Snape's head.
"Severus," the old man said, nodding to him. "And Mr. Livingstone, I am pleased to see you so well recovered."
Face still impassive, the boy's eyes flicked briefly to Snape, then returned to the wall. "Thank you," he said. "I'm just getting a note."
"Ah, still thinking of your schoolwork," Dumbledore said, waving his wand to summon a chair, and sitting gracefully. "That is admirable."
Livingstone's mouth tightened, and he stared at Dumbledore suspiciously. "What else would I be thinking of?" he asked, barely suppressing his anxiety.
Those damnable blue eyes twinkled, and Snape felt an extraordinary urge to put himself between his student and the headmaster. Whether to protect one from the other, or simply to prevent the revelation hovering in the room, he wasn't sure. He held himself in his seat, reminding himself of the many reasons he should allow this exchange to proceed without his interference.
"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore said, and Snape's wand hand started to itch fiercely.
Livingstone's eyes were granite by this point. He shook his head slowly. Furiously. "I was taught never to take candy from old men," he said with a voice so thick Snape barely recognised it. "All kinds of bad things can happen."
Snape came to a decision at that point, and quickly scribbled two notes: one for Binns, and one for Lupin. He held them out to Livingstone, who tore his eyes away from the headmaster and took them without ever looking at Snape.
"We need to speak to you about what is to come," Dumbledore said, and Snape caught a hint of hostility in his tone. The barest hint, and well-covered with compassion, but enough to set Snape wondering at exactly how much Dumbledore had picked up from the boy's mind.
Livingstone was silent. His face was slowly draining of colour.
"Livingstone," Snape said sharply, not wanting the boy to pass out in his presence, again.
"Snape," was the pained rejoinder.
"Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, and Snape could have slapped him.
"Yeah, he professes loads of things," Livingstone muttered, and got to his feet. "I need to go and do my Charms homework," he said. "I'm just admirable that way." Snape couldn't help but admire his control as he walked calmly to the door, and closed it softly after him.
"Livingstone is not Potter," Snape found himself saying to break the bubble of quiet that had formed after Livingstone's exit. "You will not find it so easy to mold his thinking." He carefully didn't mention his own failure to make more than a slight dent in the boy's casual insolence.
"Oh Severus," Dumbledore sighed. "Can you never trust me to have good intentions towards your Slytherins?"
"No," Snape said bluntly. "I cannot."
"Yet you ask me in to assist when clearly that is the last thing he would wish you to have done," the headmaster said innocently.
"The situation was beyond my skill," Snape said grudgingly. "It was you, or St. Mungo's."
"You have acted very rashly in this matter, Severus," Dumbledore said. "I trust you are aware of the strictures in place regarding mental magic on those as young as Mr. Livingstone?"
"I am," Snape said. "In none of the cases I came across did any child have such an extreme reaction simply to another's presence, though perhaps I did discount the potential dangers a little too quickly. I am … grateful for your assistance."
Dumbledore smiled gently at him. That was never a good sign.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Twilight was deepening when Daniel finally made it out of the castle. The air had a bit of bite to it, which explained why everyone seemed to have gone inside. He stood there for a moment, letting himself breathe.
He could feel his calm slipping despite his fervent efforts to keep his thoughts contained. He started to walk, letting his mind dwell on the rhythm of his steps, and the cool still air.
He reached the spot behind Hagrid's hut, and stopped in surprise. He was pretty sure he hadn't intended to come here, but in the end it seemed as good a place as any to gather himself.
It wasn't the end of the world, to have Dumbledore involved. After all, the man had been his parents' second choice for someone to go to for help. And it wasn't like they'd ever make stupid mistakes that would end up hurting him and crushing his magic.
Daniel sat down in a hurry. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and stared at it. It wasn't worth it, he decided. Magic could be pretty cool, but it came with Dumbledores, and Dark Lords, and Occlumency, and homework, and curses, and crazy pureblooded boys with split personalities.
Not worth it. He chucked his wand down the hill weakly, determined not to give it any more effort than it deserved.
He watched as the light from the hut went off, and saw Hagrid trudging up to the castle, lantern in hand. At least he could still do a Lumos, he realised, feeling a sudden twinge of pity for the huge man. It didn't last for long, not when he remembered the bizarre effect being attacked in his class had had on Draco bloody Malfoy.
He didn't know what to do. Going back to the castle was out of the question, at least for now. They were all waiting for him there: Snape, Dumbledore, Flitwick, Draco, Blaise. He could maybe deal with one or two of them. Maybe if he did something really, really Muggle then Draco and Blaise could hate him normally again, and then he'd only have to deal with teachers, who were usually a lot easier to handle.
He stared up at the hut, letting his thoughts fade away with the light. He got cold, of course, but somehow chattering teeth and trembling limbs didn't seem that important any more.
Then, a wash of warmth spread over him so unexpectedly it made him jump and nearly start rolling down the hill. By the time he had caught himself and could look around, the dog was trotting up the hill towards him, his wand in its jaws, barely visible in the dim light.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said weakly. "You can't do that."
It stopped about twenty feet away and panted loudly. When Daniel just stared, it turned and bounded off, then spun back and stared at him again.
"I'm not a complete idiot," Daniel told it grimly. "Dogs who can cast spells are not dogs to be romping with in the dark. However adorably they might be able to whine."
It padded softly up to him, still with his wand held loosely in its jaws.
"Give it," Daniel commanded, holding out a hand.
It panted louder, and the wand fell to the ground. Its tail began to wag slowly.
"What the fuck do you want from me?" Daniel said, feeling an utter fool for losing it at a dog, of all things. "And don't pretend you're just a dog, because it's obviously not true."
The dog barked softly, picked up the wand again and sat watching Daniel attentively.
"Not in the mood," he groaned, and lay down on his back, closing his eyes firmly. "Had a bad day."
"I've had a bad twelve years," a hoarse voice said from right next to him. "I win."
He sat up and, impossibly, locked eyes with Sirius Black. He looked like a corpse, far worse than he had in the mugshots. Sirius Black, mass-murderer, right hand to the Dark Lord, was sitting right next to him, and had his wand.
"I'm a pureblood, you know," Daniel said quickly. "And no friend of Potter's."
The terrible smile that spread over the man's face was right out of a horror movie. "Is that so?" he said, fingering Daniel's wand reverently.
"Well, yeah," Daniel said, forcing himself not to get up and run. Escape was impossible. "I hardly know the guy, got no reason to like him, or dislike him, much."
"What about Ron Weasley?" the man asked, eyes shiny with fervour. "Do you get on with Weasley?"
"Weasley?" Daniel said taken aback. "What's Weasley got to do with it?"
"Follow me," Black said, and stood up slowly. "I don't need to tell you what I will do if you try to run."
Daniel stood, but couldn't make himself walk. All of his choices were total insanity. Continuing to stand there, disobeying an armed Sirius Black, was possibly the most insane of them all.
"You could be dead," Black said harshly. "You won't be unless you do something incredibly stupid. So follow me, and we'll talk."
Feeling light-headed, Daniel started to walk towards the forest, hating the feeling of his own wand being held on him from behind. "So what's with the whole dog act?" he said, unable to bear the silence they were walking in. "That softens us up so you can talk us around?"
"Wait a little longer," Black croaked from behind him.
He'd really been very mild, for an unhinged mass-murderer. Considerate, almost. But then, the Dark Lord had charm, and it made sense he'd value it in his followers.
Daniel let them get about twenty feet into the forest, and stopped. "How's this for you?" he asked, turning to face the man he supposed was his captor. "It's good for me."
"Fine," Black said, staring at him intently. "How well do you know Weasley?"
"The dog thing," Daniel reminded him. "An answer for an answer."
The man actually growled.
"I don't know Weasley at all," Daniel said quickly. "He's Potter's best mate, but all I know is he's downright unpleasant."
"I want his rat," Black said, voice dark. "I want you to get me his rat."
"Hungry, are you?" Daniel said before he could stop himself.
Black laughed, a sudden loud bark that had Daniel jumping and looking around himself nervously. "You could say that," he said with an intense, wild-eyed grin.
Unless there was something Daniel was missing, the man was a complete idiot for thinking this was any kind of a plan. "I'll have to think of a way of getting to it," he said slowly. "I'm never going to get a password into their rooms, so it might take a while."
"How long?" Black asked, licking his lips absently.
Daniel shrugged. "I'll have to find out where he takes it," he said. "And a way to escape notice." He wanted to ask for his wand back, but held back. He had to have the situation exactly right before he could risk something like that. "Do you have any tips? You must have thought about it."
Black shook his head, wild black hair flopping madly around his face. "Our methods wouldn't mesh."
"I have a suggestion," Daniel said, trying to hold back his excitement. "Just an idea, to help us trust each other." He hoped that bringing up trust wouldn't make Black realise that his power over Daniel ended as soon as Daniel was back in the castle. This way, maybe, they would be on the same page from the beginning, which might limit any murderous rages Black might feel were appropriate later.
"Don't you talk to me about trust," Black said softly, surprising Daniel with the clarity of his anger.
"I'm just saying," Daniel said, before he could even plan what he was going to say. "If we both get something out of this, then it's more likely to work for both of us."
Black folded his arms across his chest, Daniel's wand still clenched tightly in his right hand. "You're a Slytherin, aren't you?" he said contemptuously.
"Of course," Daniel said, not sure why that should be an issue. "Anyone else would have run screaming from someone like you."
"Someone like me," Black repeated thoughtfully. "Of course."
"Did you think I wasn't?" Daniel asked, trying to find his footing on this new path.
Black shook his head briskly, a behaviour far more dog than human. "You reminded me of someone, that's all," he said shortly. "Go on."
"I want you to teach me Animagus transformation," Daniel said boldly. "And while you do that, I'll work on Weasley's rat. I can bring you food, too." He stopped, before he could overplay his hand.
"You won't be able to learn it," Black said. "You're too young."
"What's it to you?" Daniel said, delighted at Black's choice of argument. "If I can't learn it, then I can't learn it. But so long as you're teaching me, I'll be working on my side of the bargain. I'm good at Transfiguration, anyway. It's easy."
"What year are you?" Black asked.
"Third," Daniel said. "And I want to learn it now."
"It took me three years," Black said. "And once I have Peter, I'll be leaving."
"You can teach me how to teach myself," Daniel said, damned if he was going to let this opportunity completely pass him by. "Point me in the right directions, warn me about stuff. And then once I bring you Peter, and you leave, you can help me keep your secret by answering questions by owl and stuff."
"You're making a lot of presumptions, here," Black said.
So are you, Daniel thought. "So tell me I'm wrong," he said.
"Lumos," Black said, his face lighting up along with the wand. "I can't tell you how good it is to cast even the simplest spell, after so long," he said. The glow made his face even more skull-like, lighting it up eerily like kids did with torches at sleepovers.
Daniel got a sour taste in his mouth at that, but the last thing he could do with Black was admit his own situation with casting spells. "Azkaban for twelve years," he said instead, letting himself reflect on that properly, as well as wondering what it meant that Black had ignored his challenge.
"And here you are assuming I care at all about trust, and establishing some kind of symbiotic relationship," Black said, shaking his head. "Not very Slytherin of you at all."
"Well, it's not very Gryffindor to force a thirteen-year-old kid to do your dirty work for you," Daniel retorted, unable to let a crack like that go by.
"I'm not forcing you, you idiot," Black snapped. "You're practically talking me into it."
So, not a complete moron after all. That was comforting, in a way. As well as terrifying.
"Well, I want to learn Animagus," Daniel said. "Nobody else is going to teach me, and you're right here. And seems like you can keep a damn good secret, as well."
The man hopped from emotion to emotion like a demented grasshopper. Now he was looking mortally wounded, almost struggling for breath.
Daniel gave him a moment. He clearly needed one.
"Can I have my wand back?" he asked after a while, trying to sound as young as he could.
Black's eyes jolted to him, looking surprisingly young himself. "Yes, of course," he said, handing it over, eyes still lost in some distant memory.
"Thank you," Daniel said, pocketing it quickly. "I'll see what I can find out about the rat. When should we meet again?"
"I don't really work to a timetable," Black said, lip curling. "You tell me."
"Friday afternoon," Daniel suggested. "My friends have classes after three, but my time is free."
"You can't keep coming here all the time, especially not in broad daylight," Black said disdainfully. "Come on Friday, and show me you've made progress, and I can give you a couple of safer places, that other students don't know about."
This was going incredibly well. Too well, part of him thought, but he'd take too well over not at all any day. "Okay," he said. "Do you want me to bring you some food? That's no problem."
Black appraised him steadily. "That would be handy," he said. "But you understand you'll have to lend me your wand so I can check it's safe."
And he had the nerve to take cracks at Slytherin. "Of course," Daniel said.
They stared at each other for a moment. As Daniel watched, Black's pale grey eyes grew darker, and his upper lift lifted in a silent growl. "You will not forget the rat," he said, words holding a dire threat.
The temptation was there, to ask what the hell was so special about a dumb rat. Weasley's rat, of all things. And, he wanted to know how he should start preparing to learn Animagus. But he'd handled it right so far, and things could only get worse, the more he said.
"I won't forget the rat," he said, nodding. "But you understand, as a Slytherin, it's not an easy task you've set me. I mean, Goyle's rat barely leaves the Slytherin rooms at all, I've only heard of Weasley's second hand. Bit Goyle, as a matter of fact. I'll see what I can do."
"Tell nobody," Black said. "And this will work out right for both of us, like you said."
"Nice to meet you," Daniel said, unable to keep the sardonic smile off his face. Then, feeling like something more needed to be said, he spoke again. "And thanks for yesterday. Even if you were doing it to make me like you more, it still made me feel a whole lot better." He thought it had been yesterday, anyway. The days were starting to blur together, and having slept through almost an entire day didn't help at all.
"I did it for myself," Black said carelessly. "But it's good it helped you."
"Cool," Daniel said. "I guess I'll see you later."
As he watched, Black's skin started to melt and darken, and his body flooded downwards and out, and then the dog was standing there, panting lightly, tail wagging and looking up at him.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
He sauntered into the Great Hall, full of confidence in a way he hadn't been for years. It was quite late, so there weren't many students left at the Slytherin table, but all his friends were there. As in, Theo. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were there too, a couple of seats down. "Hey," he said, slipping in between Theo and Crabbe. "How's the weekend?"
Crabbe grunted, and turned slightly away from him.
"You're looking better," Draco said as Theo just clapped him on the shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm good," he said. "Feeling great. I think I might cut my hair."
He looked up at the teachers' table. Dumbledore was there, gazing down at the Gryffindor table, of course. Snape was glaring at his shepherd's pie, and McGonagall was listening to Flitwick, who was talking animatedly and waving his fork around in enthusiasm.
He scarfed down his meal, watching for any sign that Flitwick's story was winding up. When the little man set his cutlery neatly on his plate and nodded to McGonagall, Daniel stood up. "I've got to talk to Flitwick," he said to Theo, before hurrying up to the table.
"Could I talk to you for a bit?" he said, as he and Flitwick reached the end of his table together. "I couldn't find you earlier, but I need to talk about class."
"By all means," Flitwick said, nodding affably. Daniel could smell the hint of sherry on his breath, and was immediately jealous. "Let's go to my office, I have half an hour I could give you."
"Great," Daniel said, falling into step beside him. "How was your weekend?"
"Ah, nothing to write home about," Flitwick said airily. "I consider it a success, since I finished all my marking. That doesn't happen every weekend, certainly."
"Good for you," Daniel said heartily. "I haven't finished my homework, but I'll do it this evening, hopefully. I was kind of sick for most of the weekend, but I'm pretty sure I understand all the stuff we're doing in class now."
"Excellent," Flitwick said, holding the door of his office open. Daniel walked past, him to sit in the high-backed chair in front of the desk. "Now, what did you need to talk to me about?"
"Charms practicals," Daniel said. "I can't do them, so I thought maybe I could do something extra in that time, maybe a side project or something."
Flitwick regarded him thoughtfully. Daniel congratulated himself on taking Theo's advice. Flitwick was looking immensely pleased.
"Do you have anything specific in mind?" he asked.
Daniel shook his head. "Not really," he said. "Charms isn't much of an area of interest for me. Considering what I can and can't do, I thought maybe just a research project."
"What are your areas of interest?" Flitwick asked.
"I like mixing everything together," Daniel said. "That's why it bugs me to get stuck on Charms, because then none of my experiments really work, except for pure Transfiguration. Maybe it will come easier to me if I kind of work Charms within Transfiguration, you know?"
"This is not a chance for you to experiment with Transfiguration under the guise of Charms," Flitwick scolded him mildly.
Of course it is, Daniel thought, putting on a bit of an abashed smile. "I just kind of find myself in Transfiguration, whatever subject I'm doing," he said. "I don't mean to." Maybe he could ask McGonagall how the animal was decided. If you could choose it, he could spend time thinking about that. Maybe he should just try some self-transformation like he'd seen the upper years doing. Or maybe he should try to do things wandlessly.
He should have asked Black more questions. Friday was five whole days away, five days he could have been working on something. He supposed he could look into the rat thing, since Black had kind of made it a condition.
"Maybe wandless magic," he said aloud, realising how long Flitwick had been waiting quietly. With a jolt, he realised that if Black was an Animagus, then he could probably do other kinds of wandless magic just as well. That was why he had returned Daniel's wand so thoughtlessly. He'd known it made no difference.
That was a sobering thought.
Maybe Black had cast something silently, or wandlessly, to make Daniel do his will. Maybe if he tried telling someone that Sirius Black was an Animagus, and in the school right now, his tongue would fall down his throat and he'd choke to death. Maybe Black had done a whole bunch of stuff, then wiped Daniel's memory of it, but there were still instructions in his subconscious somewhere that he couldn't help but carry out.
"Perhaps something a little more relevant to your studies," Flitwick said. "Wandless magic is rarely achieved in a wizard's school years. I would have trouble justifying letting you use class time for such a pursuit."
"I don't really have any ideas," Daniel said. "I mostly wanted to check that you wouldn't make me keep smashing my head against the brick wall, you know."
Flitwick nodded in understanding. "I will bring some books to tomorrow's class," he said. "You might like to go through them and see if anything appeals to you."
"If I fail Charms, do I fail third year?" Daniel asked, unable to hold the question in any longer.
"Professor Snape assures me your difficulties will not last the year," Flitwick said. "I think we will be able to work out a modified schedule for you, and you should be in no danger of failing."
"Yes, then," Daniel said shortly, disappointed that Flitwick hadn't just come out and said so. "Well, that's good to know I guess." He got up. "I'll do my best."
"I'm sure that you will, Mr. Livingstone," Flitwick said easily. "I don't doubt your ability, and neither should you."
"Okay," Daniel said, feeling better. "Thanks."
"Anything you need," Flitwick said, leaning back in his chair as Daniel headed for the door.
"You could ask your housemates to be a little less harsh with Professor Hagrid," he added suddenly, looking almost anxious when Daniel swung his head around to look at him. "Goodness knows that man has been through enough recently."
Daniel shrugged. "He's not the only one," he said, and closed the door behind him.
