Ch7. Exit stage left, I am no hero. Third Year Begins.

[A/N: I love the sorting hat's song, and I regret not having it included in Alaric's second year. Some people might find it obnoxious, or a means to increase wordcount, but I like it. Plus, if I wanted to increase the word count, I'm shameful enough to copy and paste a page o X.]

-XxXx-

Cold water shocked Alaric awake. He jumped out of his bed confused and scared. His dark hair was stuck to the front of his face and he slipped on his blanket as he landed on the floor, making him land on his stomach with a loud flop.

"Wake up Ric!" Tonks tried to say as she laughed at her cousin. "You," she choked out between laughs, "you look like the Hogwarts squid!"

Alaric growled in annoyance once his mind caught up to speed.

"Bloody hell Nymphadora what the -"

A timely silencing charm stopped Tonks from hearing a colorful string of expletives. Alaric's mouth still tried to curse out his cousin despite not being heard, Tonks almost blushed when she read his lips. She had started auror training and lipreading was one of the many little things she had been learning.

"Enough!" she yelled. "Today you go back to Hogwarts, so you'll miss your sweet sister, won't you?"

She said in an annoying tone that Alaric imagined all sisters had, not that they really considered each other siblings.

Alaric just rolled his eyes as he pointed to his silenced mouth.

Tonks took out her wand and cancelled the spell as she continued to speak.

"Now remember to write to me and Mum, she'll miss you a lot. Dad too, though he'd not admit it. And if I find out any of the Badgers were horrible to you, I'll-"

"Thanks Tonks, I'll be fine," Alaric said with his hands held up. "And be careful in the academy, don't trip too much," he finished with a little cheek and a smile.

"Just remember to write," she said as she dried, and then hugged, the boy.

"I will, I will," he said with a small smile. 'Don't know why everyone rags on the Black family women,' he thought while in her embrace. A few bad apples spoil the bunch… or something.

"Now, Breakfast!"

Andromeda had a table full of food for the two when they went down stairs. She could have used a house elf, but Alaric didn't think she did. She was more... hands on than other pure-blood mothers. Cassiopeia would never do the 'elves work,' but we all have flaws, or standards if you had asked Cassiopeia.

"Now Alaric," Ted said. "Make sure you write Dromeda and us, and leave the trouble for the Gryffindors," he finished with a smile.

"Don't worry Dad," said Tonks as she nudged Alaric with her elbow. "I reminded him."

"Oh Dora," Andromeda said with a little melancholy. "Are you sure you're going to need to stay in those dorms? You should just live her and floo over."

"Mummm," Tonks whined.

Andromeda just gave her daughter a big hug and then sat down. Alaric would privately think it was her affectionate heart that drove her away from her parents and the other pure-bloods.

Alaric ate too much and his stomach started to bloat a little, he would miss Andromeda's cooking a lot. House elves were wonderful chefs, but it was nice to eat food made by someone who you cared about.

After they ate Tonks ran to the living room in a hurry and took the floo to the Academy with a trunk of her things, too excited to stay home any longer. It was her dream.

Andromeda was more affectionate than usually, likely because her daughter was starting a dangerous career, so she doted on Alaric as they made their way to the Hogwarts' Express for his third year. He enjoyed it.

-XxXx-

Alaric sat with Mary on the Hogwarts' Express as he looked out at the families saying their goodbyes. Andromeda had been fussing with his hair since she did not care for the way he wore it. His hair faded until it almost seemed shaved on the sides, while the back of his head was only a touch longer. The top was a bit long and wavy, it swept to the left in a managed, but messy, look.

Mary had grown this summer, which Alaric noticed right away. Her blond hair was still a bit curly, but well managed as she had it pulled back into a half-up/half-down style. Her face was still round, but thinned slightly as she lost some of her baby fat.

"Did you see?" asked Roger, practically running into the compartment. "Harry Potter is on the train!"

Alaric knew the boy would be, but he was just as excited as his friend. Harry Potter was someone he grew up with, in a way. In his last life he read the books and watched the movies, well only the ones focusing on Harry; In this life he spent days planning what he would do when Harry arrived at Hogwarts.

Truth is, he did not know.

"Really?" Mary asked. "I bet he's full of himself."

"Mary!" said a scandalized Roger. "This is the Harry Potter."

"And?" she asked. She heard of the boy, but didn't understand how important he was to wizarding Britain.

"And What? You don't get it, you weren't here," Roger said before his voice fell to little more than a whisper. "You-know-who was winning, people were being killed in Diagon Alley for Merlin's sake!"

Roger missed the slight flinch Alaric made when he mentioned the famous Alley. Mary did not.

"Roger!" she growled. "I think we all know that"

A not so subtle glance at Alaric made Roger realize his mistake.

"Ahh," he began. "Sorry mate."

Alaric just sighed before mumbling "it's alright."

The trio sat in silence for a few minutes before Roger, social adept that he was, began to talk more about how horrible it was. The stories he told were chilling. Friends, neighbors and family would go missing one night and no one would seem to care. The papers reported only half of those missing, if that, and aurors would just shake their heads at 'another' attack.

Eventually the topic turned to which electives they would be taking.

"I'm taking Runes and Arithmancy, what about you two?" asked Mary.

"Same for me, Ric?" replied Roger.

"Care for Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, though I'm considering Arithmancy," Alaric said. He wanted Care for Magic Creatures so that he could manage the beasts on his islands, when Missy found suitable creatures, but he knew that he would be one of the few Claws' to take it.

"Three courses would be pretty hard," said Roger.

"But I would rather have you in all my classes," finished Mary shyly.

"Well," said Alaric still thinking. "I really don't know what I'll do. I'll talk to Flitwick, I had owled him that I was going to take Care and Runes, but I've put off thinking about Arithmancy.

"Whatever works mate," finished Roger, before he took out a magical chess set. The group enjoyed the game since Mary found the chess pieces fascinating and Roger would win more often than naught.

They played some games, ate some food and gossiped a bit until they arrived at Hogwarts.

Boarding the Thestral drawn carriage Alaric smiled at the beast, he was not surprised to find that he could see them during his first year. He was worried that he'd stumble across some other dark creature, one that only someone who had experienced death could see. Maybe Luna Lovegood would let him know if anything like that existed, though he always thought of he as crazy, as opposed to some of the series fans who believe her to have some sort of special power to see magic or something.

The trip to Hogwarts was always fast in the carriage, had to beat the first years after all. Walking over to the great hall, Alaric took a look at the Headmaster's table. He had only spoke to the man a few times, which was good, and he figured that the old wizard would be focused on Harry this year, so he planned to avoid the boy-who-lived. That might change, seeing as how important the kid was, but Alaric believed in staying in the background. Except when he – very rarely – played his silly 'politics' game with the staff. Professor Flitwick was especially annoyed during Decembers, for some reason.

As the first years entered, after screaming from the ghosts' welcome, it seemed like everyone began to look for Harry. Alaric was one of them, even if he was a bit more subdued.

When the hat began to sing Alaric smiled and listened closely. The hat seemed to sing a different song every year, and he liked the hats songs far more than the Hogwarts School Song. Music was a treat, but most people weren't singers or chefs.

Oh you may not think me pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!

"Bones, Susan!" Called Professor McGonagall.

Alaric, again, listened to all of this year's sorting. He knew Malfoy would be here, but wanted to be sure that there weren't others from the families that stole from his.

"Brown, Lavender!"

There's one. Now there were two Slytherin's and a Gryffindor that Alaric planned on watching. He would not seek them out now, but in the future, he would go after their thieving families. He doubted that they would stand aside when he took revenge. He hoped the would though.

Alaric made his way up to the seventh floor. Some of the things he knew about his past life were difficult to remember, like where the kitchen entrance was – though he remembered to tickle the pear just fine – while other things were easy, like where the Come and Go room was hidden.

'I need to learn Plant Magic,' he thought as he paced across from the odd troll painting. 'I need to learn Plant Magic; I need to learn Plant Magic.'

He had planned to be further ahead by now, not still working with beginner spells. He needed to advance in Plant Magic fast, the life-giving intent of the truly difficult spells would be, hopefully, enough to cleanse his magic.

-Past-

Alaric had stood tall, for a nine-year-old, as the Medi-Wizard spoke to his Aunt. He wore a white, open robe over an old-fashioned suit.

"His magic is fine," the Medi-Wizard had told his Aunt after years of potions and unknown spells that seemed to make Alaric's body exhausted and sore. "But there will always be a mark left behind."

"But, is there nothing more you could do?" she asked.

"I'm afraid... I've never seen this before, nor have I heard tell of it."

Cassiopeia nodded once and the two walked to the living room, leaving Alaric behind to think. He was mad, furious even, that his magic, his future, was marked. Just a simple 'that sucks, it won't get better' summed it up in his mind. He would remember his family's motto, Let Us Dare, later that night; he would decide then that he would fix his own problems for once.

As he sulked, Cassiopeia returned alone to explain the ramifications of the doctors passing remark.

"The Black madness," she had said. "That was just a rumor, really. Caused by my family's children having too many of those... little spots. Most people are in their twenties when their magic is tainted enough to change their personality. We were one of the few families that showed signs during our teens. To think we were once so proud."

Those spots in Alaric's magic were not just there, they had taken root. An anchor for what comes next, if he gave it a chance. There was a reason Dark Wizards are so feared. They could just stay in the background abusing the system to gain money, power and prestige. But no, Dark Wizards liked to run around killing people for sport. For all his bluster, Voldemort became little more than a dark creature. As a werewolf acts on the full moon, a Dark Wizard acts always. No control, just desire.

That is why people like Voldemort are feared, while Lucious Malfoy is tolerated. In truth, the Malfoy's had power over the ministry, money gained through corruption and the freedom to walk through Diagon Alley.

But who was worse? Voldemort was, but only for his followers. Malfoy could throw a dinner party and have a heard of Centaurs hunted down the next day, a few Galleons could send an auror team into a muggle-born's home and a Wizengamot session could empty a family's Gringotts vault.

-Not Past-

The door opened to a small room with a soft light cascading in through the long windows. A red cushioned chair sat beside a small cabinet, though otherwise the room was bare. Alaric went to the chair and on it was the book Magicae floralibus and what appeared to be a notebook.

Alaric took the notebook and opened it,

Growing Herbs – 7th year

If found, return to Ashton Blackthorn in Slytherin

Alaric did not recognize the name Ashton, but he was surprised never the less when he read his own family name. Not that he should be, he supposed, his family seemed to be one of the few in Britain to focus on Plant Magic, not that they advertised it.

He had wondered why the art was so... unappealing to wizards and witches. 'Perhaps,' he thought. 'Perhaps, Plant Magic just looks... boring? Unimpressive? Maybe it's because the Pure-Bloods seem to hate the idea of being like druids?'

Living in the forest wearing outfits made of pelts and leaves was what most people thought when they heard the word 'druid.' Not the powerful ancients who could command the forces of nature against their foes.

Alaric let out a sigh as he collected both books into his bag, it was a simple sling that carried more than enough. Then he went to the cabinet and opened it. Inside was various seeds. Some of them were labeled and put away in jars, while others were just loosely sitting there. Alaric had taken an empty jar and placed the loose seeds inside, placing said jar in his sling. He would only take the loose, unlabeled ones, for now.

With a smile on his face Alaric returned to Ravenclaw, not noticing the disillusioned figure watching him to leave.