I do not own Harry Potter.

Albus hadn't expected things they were now: Hugo hung out in the Common Room corner, surrounded by girls and all the cooler kids like Amelia and Jacob, and of course, their armies of popular friends. It hadn't taken long for Hugo to sink into the popular crowd with the kind of people that seemed to be the living hosts of gossip and were regularly laughed at, followed by and treated like the crown jewels. But what most was curious to Albus, (not counting how quick his transformation from hobo to emperor had been), was that it didn't seem to affect him one bit: he was still the geeky drama king he had always been. The emperor transformation had started a week ago, just after the awkward encounter in the Great Hall . . .

Hugo's jaw clenched; his ears turned red and he fisted his hands. "You'd better hope I don't get caught by teachers, cos if I do . . . I don't know what will happen to us but I guarantee I won't be able to look you truthfully in the eye again," Hugo turned back, just in time to catch Amelia's vomit in the big red bucket.

Albus turned and left the room in an angry strop.

"God! I can't believe he can't appreciate that I want to stay the same: if I were to die I would rather be the nice geek I am rather than some boring popular person who makes dirty jokes, gets laughed at for no reason and only cares about getting girlfriends!" Hugo raged, talking to Amelia whilst throwing the vomit bucket to Hagrid who caught it cautiously; a little spilled over the side and dribbled onto his beard.

"Friend trouble, is it?" Hagrid asked cheerfully in his low, bear like voice as he attempted to rub the vomit off his beard with his sleeve.

"Was I talking to you, only I don't remember once saying your name?" Hugo screamed. Hugo looked down sadly and slowly placed the vomit bucket on the ground; his eyes begin to grow watery and his face turned red. "See what I mean: popularity makes people bad! And sorry, Hagrid; I didn't mean to snap, I was just a bit angry."

"Aah, it's ok. My buckbeak sometimes gets a bit bity and flappy, but I know it's not my fault," Hagrid said, mopping the tears with his sleeve, spreading a yellow vomit mark over his eyelids.

"Hagrid, you've got a bit of . . ." Amelia began

"Oh, right, I'm always making that mistake," Hagrid explained wiping away the vomit with the other raggedy sleeve.

"It's ok, I sometimes put the wrong foot in the wrong high heel or wear the midnight blue lipstick, it makes my eyes really bright and it ruins my allure!" Amelia informed them. Hagrid and Hugo looked at her peculiarly, as if she had just sworn the Tuesday would be the official flamenco dance in a pumpkin costume day. "I know, what am I like?"

"Anyways, I thinks you should accept Albus' apology, he tried to do good, it just got a bit out of hand," Hagrid announced, "besides, it was funny."

"Sorry, how do you know it was Al and Arthur who started it?" Hugo panicked.

"Even youz should know that rumours spreads fast in 'Ogwarts; even teachers hear and see things and star' makin' links," he explained.

"Do you promise you won't tell anyone?"

"What, even Buckbeak?"

"You can tell Buckbeak, but no one else!"

"Ok."

"Thanks for listening, Hagrid," thanked Hugo," it means a lot."

"Well, I'm not just a pretty face," Hagrid joked; broadly grinning. "Remember to apologise too, I imagine he'll be a bi' upset."

"I will," Hugo smiled as he left the room with a noticeable liveliness to look for Albus.

"Hang on, you just left me!" Amelia called.

Hugo leaped from step to step up the stairs, dodging jinxed steps and pushing past other students.

"Hey, Weasley!" Hugo tripped over a step in fear, trapping his foot in a step which had turned to liquid before solidifying over his ankle. He turned back, looking down upon the stairs he had come; it was Ben Applewhite, the kind of person that was often talked about but not many people personally knew. His floppy ginger hair and cheesy smile turned heads of every girl in school and sparked jealousy in boys.

"Hi, Ben isn't it?"

"Yeah, the one, the only! So what's this about you and the Twenty Twelve Big One?"

"I'm sure you can tell me, you seem to know enough already."

Ben looked at Hugo decisively, as if he were trying to read him like the fragile pages of a book. "I think you don't understand me, Weasley." Ben strode up the stairs and sat on the step just above Hugo. Pressing his mouth on Hugo's ear, Ben whispered: "being popular isn't about the express tickets to parties, the rumours or the girls. It's about being at the heart of everything: to watch every single thing that happens as it does, to be the puppet master."

Hugo was scared, whether it was the warm breath in his ear or the unnerving, gothic way he spoke. "You're making me feel uncomfortable," Hugo whispered timidly.

"Oh, right, soz," Ben moved away. "More to the point, I here the rumours; it's just knowing when to believe them. I came to ask: is it true?"

Hugo gulped: whatever he said now would be known by everyone before the end of the day. Would he be the puppet master, or would he be the hobo? Either way, it would feel like betraying them. Be what would life be if he didn't enjoy it while he could: winter's claw will grip the soul of the cursed young, Weasley's youngest will have his secret ripped from him at betrayers reveal on departure's dawn, for cursed will be tested on the silent tower and murder will come at friend's faith, servant and master will be reunited. Not a day would pass without the ominous prophecy. "Yes, it was me."

That, in a way, was the gunshot; the trigger that would start everything. One blonde haired girl strutted out of the Great Hall, dropped her designer bags when she saw Hugo, pointed at him and screamed. It didn't talk long for around ten of her friends to notice what was going one. Like stampede of leaches, they hurried next to him; asked him questions flirted and ran to get over more friends. And it was useless even tried to pull his foot out of the step; if he could run the girls and their army would catch up with him. More and more people crowded around, forming a stair jam so no one could escape: it mystified Hugo to see Ben sneak away over the flourishing sea of heads . . .

By the evening, most people had left Hugo alone as they were already getting over the hype. In a way, Hugo was glad it had happened: he had made several new friends,(the popular sort), wasn't badly spoken about and was treated by other students as some sort of God. The boys shared dirty jokes with him, girls jumped through hoops to get in his good books and people looked at him curiously from across the room, looking away whenever he looked, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Albus was one of those people, but his looks weren't curious, they were envious and sinister. Well what had he expected, whatever happened, Albus would have a reason to be upset: it was understandable.

"Do you mind holding this; I'll be back in a sec?" Hugo handed his glass of lemonade to the boy sitting by him, he didn't know who he was but he seemed ok with it. Hugo made his way over to Albus and sat by him: Albus shuffled across the seat and looked the opposite way. "I know you're angry with me, but I'd like to explain something."

Albus looked at him blankly.

"I think you know that I've not got much time left; you heard the prophecy too . . ."

"Don't believe prophecies. There's no chance that you'll be killed: it's a load of smoke and mirrors."

" . . . Well I don't think so: there'll be a time, a time not far from now, when my secrets will be revealed and you'll have no choice but believe. But that's not why I'm here . . . I was scared Albus; scared that one of us would get caught or something bad would happen, and I knew I wouldn't be able to live with it. Now I realise you meant well; I appreciate that. I should live with more excitement, i don't want to be the hobo anymore because I want to be the puppet master. I understand if you want forgive me for being a total jerk. Do you accept my apology?"

Albus smiled, "of course I forgive you."

"Thank you, so much. And as a gift . . . Parcere vitae!" Hugo placed the tip of his wand on Albus' head. The wand tip glowed a ghostly white, but apart from that, nothing happened.

"What was that: I didn't feel anything?"

"You'll know soon, just wait."

"I get the prophecy thing, but there's no need to be such a goth!" Albus laughed.

Thank you for reading, there isn't long to the end of the summer term so keep reading for the finale!:-)