June 1985

After the bodies of the muggle-born wizards were removed from the Wizengamot dungeon, the second hearing had been postponed to yesterday morning. Dumbledore had not expected Millicent to give Marcus Carrow additional time to speak to the so-called merits of the act, but she allotted twenty minutes at the beginning of the hearing. Carrow's statements resulted in arguments between the two sides, as expected, and more time was lost to harsh words and resentment. Dumbledore had prepared his notes and planned to counter Carrow's arguments, but Millicent had refused to let him speak. Instead, as she said she would, she collected everyone's thoughts on the difficulties of enacting the legislation and what would happen to the community as a whole should it be made law.

All this, while Dumbledore could still see the body of the muggle-born scribe dangling in the air; a hanging without a rope, performed inside the dungeon of the Wizengamot despite the heavy veil of wards.

At the end of the hearing, Millicent informed them that Aurors had been tasked to determine who had killed the four muggle-born wizards. They would contact Dumbledore, Crouch, and Fudge to obtain their accounts and memories of what they found.

In Dumbledore's head, he saw muggle-born blood dripping from dead feet.

Dumbledore was on his third bourbon when Aaron knocked on his door. He poured the rest of the alcohol into his mostly-empty mug of English Breakfast and told the boy to come in. He had put off talking to Aaron all year and he couldn't put it off any longer, not with two days to the end of the school year, McGonagall had made sure of that.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore told the boy.

Dumbledore looked at Aaron and felt cold. Was it the bourbon? He saw TOM RIDDLE another black-haired TOM RIDDLE and brown-eyed orphan sitting before him TOM RIDDLE, the years between now and 1939 blurred to non-existence.

No, stop this now.

"You'll have to forgive me," Dumbledore said. He took a long drink and made himself grab onto whatever steady energy was left inside of him, willing his hands to stop shaking. "It has been a busy year and I haven't had time to check-in and see how you are getting along. Have you enjoyed your classes?"

The old man looked unsteady. Dumbledore had been drinking. Aaron could smell the alcohol and see it in his eyes.

"Yes," Aaron said. The classes I am able to stay in at least.

"I have heard from several of your professors that you are not able to use magic, is that true?"

Ashamed, Aaron said, "Yes, it's true."

Dumbledore didn't seem concerned. He barely seemed to hear him. The old man took a long drink from his cup. He looked up at Aaron, as if remembering suddenly that he was there. "Would you care for some tea? I'm about to make more for myself."

"No, I'm alright."

"You can't do any magic? Nothing at all?"

"No," Aaron said.

"Tell me what you've tried," Dumbledore said.

"Levitation, transfiguration, hundreds of charms, at least. I can't make anything levitate, or disappear, or change. I can't shoot sparks out of my wand," Aaron said, with obvious frustration. "I can't use magic."

"It sounds like you are giving up."

Aaron didn't know what to say. No, but what choice do I have? No, but you're going to kick me out soon enough anyway?

"I'm not giving up," Aaron said, "but nothing happens when I try. And I've tried since I got here."

If only it were as easy as letting the boy give up. This was the wrong time to send a twelve year old muggle-born wizard back out into the non-magical world, or have him fend for himself within this one. No matter how limited his abilities, he wasn't a muggle. Left to his own devices, he would be a danger to himself and others whenever he discovered how to use magic.

If he isn't killed first, with an M carved into his forehead.

"Not every student who walks through these halls is immediately blessed with the gift of total control of their abilities. Few are capable of that even when they leave here. Magic is powerful, but it can be fickle. When you are young, it may come and go. It isn't rare to have a slow start."

"But," Aaron said, "I think I'm just a muggle. I'm not supposed to be here."

"You're not a muggle, Aaron," Dumbledore said. "And we're not kicking you out. You're going to have to be patient and keep trying. You're going to have to be stronger."

Why? Aaron wanted to ask. Why do you keep saying I'm not a muggle, but I can't do a damn thing to prove otherwise? He wanted to tell Dumbledore how ashamed he felt in his classes, how behind and incapable he was. He wanted to tell him about the looks of pity he got from Maddison and Jonathan. He wanted to tell him how Rhodus Carrow used magic in the halls to shove him, Peter, and Eni up against walls and trip them down the staircases, and how if the professors saw any of it, they didn't do a damn thing to stop it. He wanted to tell him he couldn't fight back, because he didn't want to be kicked out for fighting either. And he didn't want to run to a professor whenever a wizard-born student messed with him and the other muggle-borns. He wanted to tell Dumbledore everything that made him feel as though he was less-than and didn't belong.

"So, what do we do with you in the meantime?"

Dumbledore looked over the list of Aaron's classes. The boy had done well in Herbology and History of Magic, enough that he was duel-enrolled in First and Second Year classes, at the expense of Transfiguration and Charms. He hadn't officially dropped flying, but Dumbledore heard from Hooch that he had stopped showing up for classes a long time ago. She couldn't fail him either, because he had tried. And, for a while, he had kept trying and showing up. In Astronomy, another class that didn't require practical use of magic, Aaron's marks were at the top of the class. Snape had told Dumbledore that any part of potions class that required magic wasn't a problem for Aaron, because his class partner, Charles Weasley, handled whatever came up. Defense against the Dark Arts, he had heard, was limited to theory this year.

"There's a mathematics course?"

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore laughed. He couldn't remember the last time a student had elected to take mathematics. Aaron wasn't stupid and he wasn't failing, he just couldn't use magic yet.

"Aaron, do you like it here?"

More than anything. "Yes."

"You want to stay?"

"Yes."

"The magic will come, but until it does we will keep you moving forward and duel-enrolled in the classes you don't need it for."

There was a note at the bottom of the class list, underlined twice.

NEEDS HIS OWN PROPER WAND.

"Professor McGonagall tells me you don't have your own wand yet, is that true? Did Arthur not take you to buy one?"

Buy one where? With what money? Aaron thought.

"I've been using one of the training wands."

"Having your own wand will not be the difference between your ability or inability to do magic. However, your lack of a wand does tie into another point I wanted to bring up," Dumbledore said. "You don't come from a family who can provide for you, like the majority of the students at Hogwarts. For all intents and purposes, legally you belong to myself and the school. We have, and will continue to give you books, food, and supplies to live and attend your classes, but it would be most helpful if you started to pay your own way."

There were things Aaron needed he hadn't wanted to admit to anyone. He had grown into his hand-me-down robes from the Weasleys, but his shoes were worn out and tight. He kicked them off whenever possible to avoid more blisters.

"Apart from getting you what you need to succeed at school, I don't want you graduating and leaving here in six years with nothing to your name. So, I will make you a deal. If you work for the school over the summers and during holidays, I can put money aside for you. One day, you'll have enough, not just for a wand of your own, but enough to start a life for yourself, if that is what you would like. You're young, but we could use the help, and the magical community is not one for labor laws preventing us from employing you. It would be a lot of work, mostly maintaining the grounds, working in the library and kitchen, but I wouldn't have you working while classes are in session, so there shouldn't be any worry about keeping up with your classes. Would you like that?"

"Yes," Aaron smiled, "I would."