Daniel woke slowly in a sweltering mass of sheets and blankets. He kicked them off, opened his curtain slightly to let some air in, and tried to remember what he'd been dreaming.
"How was your detention?" Theo asked, his tone teasing.
"Hrmph?" Daniel said. He'd been flying, he thought. He'd known it was a dream, because he was hundreds of feet above the ground, but hadn't been worried, or afraid. He rubbed at his eyes.
"Your detention," Theo repeated. "Was it fun?"
"Not exactly," Daniel said, sitting up and opening the curtains the rest of the way, letting the light that streamed in wake him up the rest of the way. "How many fun detentions have you had with Filch? And what time is it?"
"The others have all gone up to lunch," Theo said. "But I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell you this."
Possible terrible endings to what had happened last night started flooding into Daniel's head. "What?" he asked, when Theo hesitated.
"You know how we were talking about the Wolfsbane?" Theo asked.
"Yeah," Daniel said. "I still don't get how Daphne of all people knew about that."
"That's not the point," Theo said, leaning forward intently. "You know how I said imagine if Lupin was a werewolf?"
"Yup," Daniel said, turning around and reaching into his trunk for his clothes. "You got another one? Like, imagine if Sprout was a herbologist? Oh, wait, she —"
"Shut up," Theo said. "Lupin's a werewolf."
Daniel put a disbelieving look on his face and turned back around. "Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. "And Vector teaches maths. Oh wait, she does."
"Daniel," Theo said, actually coming up and grabbing him by the arm. "Lupin's a werewolf. Seriously."
"Fuck off," Daniel said, shaking his arm free. "That's stupid."
"I'm serious," Theo said. "Everyone knows now, and word is he's resigning. Out of the castle by dinnertime."
Daniel didn't know the right question to ask. But apparently confused silence worked just as well, because Theo nodded and moved away, satisfied with his reaction.
Then Daniel thought of a question. "Did Dumbledore and everyone know?" he asked.
"He must have," Theo said. "That's an impossible secret to keep."
"Got a machete handy?" Daniel asked, remembering the thing charging at him, faster than he'd thought any animal could ever run. And Dumbledore had let it live here, all year. Had let it teach them to defend themselves against dark creatures.
"A what?"
"Never mind," Daniel said, getting changed quickly. "Happy no-more-exams!"
Theo looked at him a bit oddly then, but nodded. "Same to you," he said. "Only a week until summer, as well."
"Yeah, this week's stupid," Daniel said, searching for his boots. "Exams are over, nobody's going to be doing any work, except for Granger, but we've still got to stick around and make the teachers miserable."
"I quite like it," Theo said, leading Daniel to the door. "It's Hogwarts, but without schoolwork. What's not to like?"
Daniel followed him up to lunch, only to be intercepted by Snape just as he was about to sit down.
"I'd like a word," the man said, his eyes cold. "In my office, now."
Daniel gulped. He was going to die. Snape was going to pull out his organs and add them to the jars around his office. He was going to put his head on a spike over the door as a warning to any other students who sided with his mortal enemies, and —
"Livingstone," Snape said. "Now."
"Uh," Daniel said. "I actually have to … "
Snape actually gave him about three seconds to come up with an idea, which was more than Daniel had expected. It surprised him so much he forgot to use the time to think of anything.
"Would you prefer to spend the rest of the afternoon in detention?" Snape said. "That can be quite easily arranged."
Everyone was staring at him, now. "If I'm not back by dinner," Daniel told them, "call the President."
He got up and followed Snape out of the hall, down to the dungeons, and into Snape's office. Maybe he could claim to have been confunded. Or under the Imperius curse. That had worked for Draco's father, after all. He just had to avoid Snape's eyes, not drink or eat anything, and act really really stupid.
"I imagine you can guess what this conversation is about," Snape said, sitting down behind his desk.
"Um," Daniel said, sitting down and staring at his knees. "Maybe?"
"How much money do you have in your dormitory?" Snape asked.
Well. That wasn't the kind of question he'd been expecting at all. "Not sure," Daniel said. "Maybe twenty galleons."
"Hm," Snape said.
Hm. Daniel was tempted to look up at Snape's face, but not only was that very dangerous, it would probably also be useless in terms of finding out what Snape was thinking. "I can go and see, if you like," he said hopefully.
Snape kept up the silence.
Daniel hated the silence. "Do you need a loan?" he asked, tapping his right heel over and over again on the top of his left foot. "You should really ask Draco, he's got enough money to —"
"I do not need a loan," Snape interrupted. "It occurs to me, however, that you might."
Daniel was really, really confused. "Um," he said. "I don't get what this is about."
"Do you expect twenty galleons to last ten weeks?" Snape asked. "At two galleons a week, your proposed cost of living must be exceptionally low."
Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but Snape talked right over him.
"And then there is the matter of your books and other materials for your next year of school," he said. "I am inclined to wonder how you will be able to secure adequate funds."
Daniel shrugged. "I guess I'll just ask my parents," he said. "They tend to look out for me, you know."
"Indeed, they do," Snape said. "They 'look out for you' to such an extent they are willing to lie to both the Muggle authorities and Hogwarts officials to ensure you get your own, absurdly selfish and short-sighted way."
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
The boy's face ran through relief, horror, dismay and resentment before settling on stony. He said nothing.
"I prefer it," Snape said, "when my students do not lie to me."
"I didn't!" Livingstone said quickly. "I just didn't want to go back there."
Snape steeled himself for any number of grievous complaints. "Why not?" he asked.
The boy's eyes hardened, turning a dark, dangerous grey. "I didn't like it there," he said.
"Elaborate," Snape growled.
Livingstone started to look around the room, as though searching for an escape. "They kept telling me what to do all the time," he protested eventually. "Treating me like I was too stupid to count as a person, telling me what to eat, where to go, who to talk to, when to go to bed, what I should be thinking."
That was all? Livingstone had run away from the Muggle world because he was in the care of people who treated him like the child he was?
Snape exhaled sharply. "And that drove you to flee, alone, out of the world you grew up in and spend two weeks without protection in Diagon Alley?"
"I was fine," Livingstone snapped. "I can take care of myself, you know. If I couldn't, I wouldn't have even made it here last September. I don't have to stay where I don't want to stay." The defiant expression on his face said more than the words he'd held back afterwards. And you can't make me.
Snape sympathised with the boy, even as he deplored his oversensitivity and overreaction to what were truly minimal concerns.
"On the contrary," he said. "You are thirteen years old, and by every law in Britain, you are required to obey those legally responsible for your care."
"Oh, as if laws are what matter," Livingstone scorned. "Family has nothing to do with the law. Anyway, the law in the wizarding world is that we can't tell Muggles about magic being real. If the stupid family services people keep shifting me around from home to home, I'll have to tell loads of people."
"Why were you removed from your established residence?" Snape asked.
Livingstone shrugged sullenly.
Snape waited.
"They let me do what I wanted," Livingstone said, rolling his eyes. "Apparently it was inappropriate. Like they taught me to drive and stuff."
"They were breaking the law for you," Snape said dryly.
"I was with them for years," Livingstone said, genuine pain in his voice. "And I was taken away because my parents let me make decisions for myself. So fucking stupid."
Snape raised an eyebrow at his language, but Livingstone didn't seem to notice.
"I'm not going to stay with any other family except my own," he was declaring, head raised defiantly. "You're not in charge of me over summer."
"I do not suggest that you should," Snape said.
Livingstone's eyes widened in surprise. "You can get me back to them?" he asked, eyes gleaming.
"No," Snape said, deeply uncomfortable with that look. "I cannot."
Livingstone swallowed, and looked away. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again slowly.
"You desire self-sufficiency," Snape said, an idea occurring to him.
"Well, yeah," Livingstone said.
"I shall make arrangements," Snape told him. "Go and eat lunch."
Livingstone stared at him suspiciously. "What are you going to do?" he demanded. "Where am I going to go?"
Snape needed time, alone, to think that over.
"Go to lunch," he repeated. "I will speak with you again when there is something to speak of."
Livingstone got to his feet, eyes confused. "Uh, okay," he said. "But you did say I wouldn't have to go back to another family, right?"
Snape just looked at him. The boy sighed, and turned to leave.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Snape didn't talk to him again for nearly a full week. Daniel occupied himself by worrying about Black and practising his juggling.
He told himself that if the man had been captured it'd be all over the news. Nobody seemed to have realised exactly what had happened last Thursday evening. Everyone knew Black had escaped of course, but there were not nearly enough details to satisfy Daniel's friends, who were speculating like crazy about everything from the return of the Dark Lord to jet-powered turbo boots and laser rifles.
Word about Lupin's being a werewolf had apparently just spontaneously appeared on Friday morning, and spread through the school like wildfire. Daniel's non-Slytherin friends were claiming Snape had spread it around, but from what Theo said, they'd all been talking about it at the Slytherin table before their head of house had come down to breakfast, much later that he usually did.
Buckbeak's death had really turned Potter and the Gryffindors against Draco, which automatically extended to the whole of Slytherin. Daniel felt bad for the hippogriff, but he could hardly blame Draco for the whole wizarding world being so twisted that its courts had decided to kill the hippogriff instead of penalising the human being involved. If judges folded to the whims of a fourteen-year-old boy, then that was a much bigger problem than Draco being a vengeful little shit.
Daniel wondered if the Gryffindors would have been more, or less furious to have Hagrid sacked, and the hippogriff escape punishment completely. From the way they worshipped the old groundskeeper, they'd probably have led a lynch mob against the whole of Slytherin.
With Lupin gone they didn't have any Defence classes, and the only teacher who was making them work every lesson before school was out for good was McGonagall.
Sometimes, Daniel would look across at Potter in class, and remember the way he and Granger had held off all those Dementors, and saved Black's life. He supposed the three of them knew the real story about Black, but they didn't let anything slip, even when half the conversations in class were about either Black or Lupin.
Potions on Wednesday was frightening. Rather than shouting, sneering or taking points off Gryffindor, Snape was quiet. He gave them their homework for the summer holidays, sat behind his desk, and started to work on something as though none of them were even there.
"Ah, Professor?" Draco said after about half an hour of nervous silence.
Snape looked up, face utterly impassive. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" he said.
"Is there something you'd like us to be doing, sir?" Draco asked, voice wavering a little.
Snape glanced briefly around the room. "Remain quiet," he instructed. "I recommend you use this time to further your studies."
Draco gulped and nodded. Snape looked back down to whatever he was doing. There was some scrabbling of parchment, and then the class settled into a quiet disturbed only by quill on parchment, and the steady turning of pages.
Daniel took out his Potions textbook and flicked through it, just for something to do. About halfway through the class someone giggled from the Gryffindor side, and Snape's head snapped up so hard he must have gotten whiplash.
The laughter cut off abruptly, and the rest of the lesson was held in the same tense silence. Snape dismissed them as soon as it hit four o'clock, and the classroom had never been emptied quite so quickly.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the whole class exhaled as one.
"What was up with him?" Seamus asked.
"I thought he'd be happy that Lupin's gone," Daphne said.
Daniel held his tongue, and hoped desperately that Snape's mood would improve before they had the talk he'd promised.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Their exam results came the next morning. Daniel had done fine in Defence, Charms, Muggle Studies and Potions. His best subject was easily Transfiguration; not even Draco had done better. He'd scraped a pass in History of Magic and Herbology, but had failed both Astronomy and Ancient Runes.
Better than he'd expected, really.
Crabbe had failed Runes too. Goyle, to everyone's surprise, hadn't. In fact, between the two of them they had only five fail marks, which was the best they'd done so far.
After lunch that day, Snape summoned Daniel into his office.
"I have made arrangements for your accommodations over summer," the man announced as soon as Daniel was sitting down.
"So I don't even get a say?" Daniel asked, trying to keep a lid on his anger. After all the effort he'd put into staying free, he wasn't going to let even Snape force him to go somewhere he didn't want.
"I don't think you will be objecting," Snape said dryly.
"Oh, yeah?" Daniel said, then regretted it.
"If you'd prefer not to listen, I do have the power to enforce a stay with your new guardians," Snape said contemptuously. "I hadn't realised your —"
"I'm listening," Daniel interrupted.
Something gleamed in Snape's eyes.
"The first four weeks of your summer will be spent in the north of Scotland, at what I believe is classified an 'adventure camp'," he said, the words coming out his mouth in a sneer. "You will then stay in London for three days, followed by a month in another such facility. The remainder of your time will be spent in Diagon Alley, completing your schoolwork and preparing yourself for the next school year."
Daniel realised he was beaming, and cut it out. There could still be a catch. "An adventure camp?" he asked, unable to believe his luck. "You mean with like mountain climbing and white-water rafting and everything?"
Snape's mouth tightened. Daniel thought it might have been in amusement, but was just as likely to have been disdain. "It would be to your benefit to acquire some Muggle survival skills," he said sensibly. "As that is the world I believe you naturally gravitate to."
"Huh?" Daniel said, trying not to jiggle in his seat with excitement. "What's gravitate?"
Snape frowned. "You should be able to infer the meaning from context," he said unsympathetically. "You will catch the Hogwarts Express with your classmates, and take the Inverness train at six eighteen. I will meet you at that station the next morning."
Daniel didn't dare ask any questions. He didn't want to speak, in case he somehow made Snape change his mind.
A satisfied look found its way onto Snape's face at Daniel's silence. "You do not object to having your life arranged for you in this case, then?" he asked snidely.
"Not really," Daniel said. "Just so long as you're not expecting me to pay."
Snape gave him a distant sort of a look. "I am not," he said.
"Cool," Daniel said. "Can I go get ready for the feast and pack and everything now?"
"Indeed," Snape said.
Daniel got to the door, and paused. He took a deep breath, and turned back. "Thanks," he said, forcing himself to meet Snape's black gaze. "Thanks for helping me."
Snape looked uncomfortable, so Daniel didn't wait for a reply. He just got the hell out of there, waiting until he was right back outside the Slytherin common room before letting himself whoop.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Gryffindor won the house cup, again. Daniel supposed they'd probably deserved it this year, what with their Quidditch win and all, but that wasn't a very popular opinion down on the Slytherin table, so he kept his mouth shut.
He'd sent off a letter to his parents after his talk with Snape, so they'd know he was fine over summer, and having fun, and still wanted to get back to them, but couldn't. He left out all the huge news stuff, but managed to get some stuff off his chest anyway. He didn't really like writing enough to write heartfelt letters often, but he felt he needed to make the effort this time.
He told them about Draco, and the bizarre ideas wizards had about marriage and love. He told them about Muggle Studies, and how completely clueless most of his schoolmates were about what was in the real world.
He gave them the latest on all his friends, stressing that he was happy that Lisa was with someone else, because people were finally shutting up about them getting together all the time. He told them about the Batmobile Theo had given to him, and all the modifications he'd given it and his Transformers. He was learning to juggle, he wrote, and over the summer he'd be learning way more useful stuff, he was sure.
By the time the desserts were nearly all finished, most people around Daniel were slowing down from being so full.
Millicent was the first to get to her feet and propose a toast.
"To the end of third year," she said, raising her goblet of juice.
Daphne stood up right beside her. "To fourth year," she said.
They all drank to that.
"To a new Defence teacher," Theo said, not bothering to get out of his seat.
"To the Quidditch World Cup," Draco said, "Who's coming?"
Everyone except Daniel drank to that one.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
In the morning they left their packed bags down in the dormitories and headed up to breakfast. The hall was filled with that last-day combination of regret and excitement, everyone nattering away about their holiday plans, and promising to write.
Daniel felt generous towards everybody. He wished everyone who so much as looked at him a happy holiday, and gorged himself silly on everything fried he could lay his hands on.
He tried not to be too joyful around Theo, who clearly didn't want to go home at all, even if he was looking forward to the World Cup more than Daniel thought healthy. But he couldn't really help it, because assuming Snape didn't have some dastardly plan for the summer, it was going to be great. He'd be learning all kinds of useful things, and with a bunch of other kids without pureblood hangups or magic anything.
He was going to spend his summer in the real world.
Well. That's the end of this here year at Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. I hope you've enjoyed my changeable and impulsive storytelling. I have, and I'm proud to announce that this is the first story I have ever finished of anything approaching this kind of length. Since I started this whole thing started as an exercise in finishing a story, it's been a success from my point of view. Unfortunately, it's eaten my brain, and I've edited it into hopefully something slightly more cohesive, and am now thinking about other years, other scenes, other stories of Daniel's I can tell.
I've tried not to beg too hard for reviews, since I'm terrible at remembering to give them myself. That said, it would be incredibly helpful for me and for the future of this story if those of you who've read and enjoyed could let me know your thoughts and feelings on the end product, even if it's just to complain that I haven't told you if Daniel will be able to do Animagus yet, or that OMG I let Buckbeak die.
Also, my probable course of action from here will be to write various one-shots, and try to decide if I should skip to writing a sixth-year novel, as I had originally planned, or really set my sights high and think of a story for Daniel's fourth year, and write the whole thing out. Or even, I guess, write book one, or two. If nobody has requests or ideas, I'll probably publish one-shots from first and second year, and start to structure a story around the sixth. I'm a horribly indecisive person though, so any suggestions will probably be taken more seriously than they should be.
Blah, blah, blah. I'm going on and on again, when the most important thing is to thank you all for reading, the few of you who have reviewed especially, and get to work on my next task.
Which should really be uni work, but hey. Nobody's perfect.