Galahad was pleased to hear his mother had actually listened to the mixtape he had made for her. It was they only thing they seemed to have in common. Merlinius couldn't make it with them today. Apparently, he had prior arrangements with a case he had been working on. Something to do with an appeal to the courts in London that had to do with a mass murder of muggles eleven years ago. Galahad had shrugged he was only half listening at the time and it ended up resulting in another fight between his mother and grandfather as usual.

Galahad hadn't expected his mother to talk to him so soon. She did that sometimes. She retreated into herself and let him be. It was infuriating. He understood that it was family tradition to ignore the weakness of emotion and deal with it all in private, but it nevertheless was painful to bear.

Galahad felt a small smile tug at his lips as he watched his mother banged her head with a carefree grin as The Ramones blared from the car's stereo. Merlinius did his best to ignore it as he made sure the disillusionment charm held up as he lowered the altitude of the car, the London skyline appearing from beneath the grey fog of a particularly low hanging cloud. The plan was to be dropped off at The Leaky Cauldron, they would get some food, and then off to get what was needed. Except the wand, of course. Galahad had been proud of his purchase, at first. And he still had no trouble practicing when he and his grandfather trained together, but the magic felt...bland.

Galahad wanted it to last, even though he feared it wouldn't. His mother almost never smiled anymore. Nor did his grandfather. At the last gala, Galahad had jokes to Draco Malfoy that it was a side effect of being viking blooded, that older you get the more your face gets wiser and more stoic and naturally he was going to smile and joke while he could, because after Hogwarts he was going to start getting old. He had actually seen the ghost of a smile that time before his slimy godfather whisked him away from speaking more with Galahad. It was a shame, really. Draco was always suprisingly great conversation.

Hogwarts. Galahad grimaced at the thought. It would give him some time away from all the bickering, but he honestly didn't know why Merlinius and Annwn even bothered to enroll him, if that's even how that worked. He had enjoyed learning at home. He had enjoyed the occasional visits from the Lovegoods. It wasn't fair. He already knew, based on the letter a Professor McGonagall had sent a lot of the general basics of what he was going to be learning- His grandfather made sure of that- so what was the point of sitting listening to stuffy old academics telling him things he already knew? Although, Galahad figured it was a necessary evil to go through if he was going to be a cursebreaker or wandmaker. Of course he had been excited at the initial thought of going. But as his mother prepared him with her stories the more and more boring the castle seemed. All the wonder had been stripped away and the thought of not having his music especially galled him.

"It's only seven years of my life, afterall," Galahad had muttered under his breath. Merlinius carefully maneuvered them into an alleyway marked with yellow caution tape on each end. Under Construction, it read. As they landed, Annwn carefully turned off the cassette player and another car carefully floated to the ground behind them. Galahad had already noted how stiff she was.

"Alright. Father, Galahad. Let's go over the plan one more time?"

Galahad frowned. 'Here we go...'

Merlinius rolled his eyes. "I'm running late as it is, Daughter. I get it, I'll meet you in Nocturne Alley and we'll swing by and pick up Galahad from Flourish and Blotts."

Galahad stifled a smirk. That was a perk to going to Hogwarts. It gave Galahad an excuse to spend all his time in Flourish and Blotts.

Galahad hugged his grandfather who grumbled irritatedly about he didn't have time for such frivolities, and he said it with such a gusto that Galahad might have believed him if not for the warm smile. After giving Annwn a hug, his face grew stern. "Be good. Both of you." He looked at Galahad from the car window. "Be nice to your mother and don't cause her too much trouble, yes?"

Galahad nodded, a proper smile slipping across his lips as "Yes, Grandfather." 'He had said not too much trouble. He didn't say I couldn't give any.' Galahad thought coyly to himself.

Merlinius cocked his head after reading his grandson's thoughts, but an equal air of mischief momentarily shine through that hard sternness. "No trouble or mischief of any kind. You'd make for a great lawyer, boy, if not for your poker face." He eyed them one more time and nodded curtly. "Now I really must be going." He added and driving off through the tape as though it didn't exist, although Galahad supposed given the complexity of illusion charms he had read about, they probably didn't.

Annwn ushered them along out of the alleyway and took a familiar couple of side streets and they in through the backdoor of the pub. Galahad was fascinated by the construction of it all. Apparently, The Leaky Cauldron had acted like a gatehouse of sorts to one of the last free bastions of magic in Britain, or so he had read, but then again in that same book there was a claim about magic being practiced much more openly in Wales despite the statute of secrecy, due to a higher body of the magically inclined. Galahad seriously doubted that, although he admitted there was a lot of strange goings on in Cardiff, but then again he found muggles to be an odd bunch.

He remained lost in thought as they got an order each of fish and chips from the old wizened barkeep, Tom. When a flash of something like copper fire jostled it's way through the dinge of greys, browns, and the ostentatious vibrance of azure turbans and emerald top hats. He saw the pale girl of eleven being led by a lanky twenty something with dark hair and a wry half smile. He noted how flustered she was and how desperately she tried to hide it. He then noticed she was dressed very very stiffly for someone her age. He opened his mouth to say something, but they disappeared back out of the back door. Galahad had a strange feeling in the pit of stomach, something he couldn't quite explain. Annwn seemed to notice and patted his shoulder.

"You alright, Galahad?" she asked.

Galahad nodded and smiled politely. "Yes, mum. Just think I ate too much chips. Tom knows how to do a healthy portion at least "

Annwn chuckled and ruffles his hair. "That he does."

After they finished eating, Galahad and his mother made their way into Diagon Alley and they strode hastily past many wide eyed muggleborns that crowded the worn cobblestone paths and the equally exicited broomheads gawking at whatever sleek new design that offered nothing new. Galahad froze a moment. He had sworn that he just he saw that head of burnished copper amidst the crowd, seated at Florean Fortescue's, but when he went to do a double take the crowd coalesced around where he looked and so he shook his head. That odd feeling in his stomach again. 'Probably the fish,' He thought.

Galahad was grateful his mother hadn't noticed as they forced their way through the crowd and into a sea of more people that slowly started swarming Flourish and Blotts. Galahad's heart sunk. That could only mean one thing. His temple of serenity would be sullied by a paltry book signing. Galahad went to open the doors with a huff but then he noticed the flier.

His mother had noticed it too and her lip curled in disdain. "Ugh. Lockhart."

"Jealous that he amounted to something, Fauste?" The voice was a rapier. Smooth, elegant but sharp and cold. Annwn and Galahad turned on heel to see Lucius and Draco Malfoy, the former completely disregarding Galahad.

Galahad grinned at Draco and gave a small two finger wave of greeting which was reciprocated by a small and almost imperceptible nod. Annwn's voice was pleasant but polite, as though it were merely business to her.

"Hello, Lucius. As I'm sure you're aware, I have a strong aversion to liars, cheats, and sycophants, especially ones with handsome features and hair brighter than their minds."

Lucius narrowed his eyes in slight suspicion but that fake smile never left his face, Galahad noted that with his high cheekbones and false smile he almost resembled some kind of angry humanoid gecko and the thought forced him to stifle a chuckle into his hand, disguising it as a cough. "Ah, Yes. I forgot. I have afterall not been able to...rub elbows...with the Faustes since the last gala."

Annwn rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. "Well, I brought Galahad to get his books. I have business to attend to in Nocturne Alley, so by your leave, I must be off." Galahad had noticed the obvious condescension in her voice and Lucius had too, the faintest flash of anger glinted in his pale grey eyes.

"Actually..." Lucius said smugly. "...It is quite fortuitous that we should have similar missions. We have much to discuss. I shall escort you. It is, afterall, an unsafe place to be in."

He looked at Draco and his smiled dropped to a glower, Draco flinched a little but masked it with a more apparent nod. "Entertain yourself. I'll be back after a while." The glare lingered on Draco for a while before flicking to Galahad before he and Annwn turned on heel and strode away to Nocturne Alley, bickering in hushed whispers and low growls.

Galahad grinned at Draco, as he held the door open for his friend and followed inside. "Been a while a while, Malfoy. Although, this year you'll actually have someone decent to talk to."

Draco smirked a little and Galahad noticed he looked tired. "I apologize I've not written, Galahad. My godfather has been helping me study. Plus dad's been a git all summer. Mum said he thought secrecy was important for something he was planning."

Galahad brushed a hand through his already shaggy blood colored hair and readjusted the straps on his leather jacket. "I really wish you wouldn't listen to him. He's an arsewipe, Draco."

Draco tensed up and a flash of indignation and outrage flickered across his face as he barked out his next words. "He's still my father and a Malfoy, Fauste. He's a great man and you will show some respect!"

Galahad rolled his eyes, unfazed by the blustering outburst. Replying just as warmly as Draco had done so coldly. "You don't have to pretend with me, Malfoy. But I have to ask. If he's so great, why is he such a git? Or is his words just coming out of your mouth? You gotta learn to think for yourself, my friend."

Galahad glanced over his shoulder with a smirk as he strode to one of the many massive oak bookshelves, the usage of the undetectable extension charm obvious in how tall they were, like an oaken forest of vast shelves and yet there still wasn't quite enough room. Books littered the floor in piles, like some dragon building a lair of knowledge.

Draco huffed and mumbled something about needing a few minutes away from Galahad's insufferable insolence or something similar. Galahad didn't mind. He hadn't seen his friend in what felt like forever. He deserved to tease him a little bit. Galahad lost himself in the pace of his fingers along the spines of the many books. The sensation of dust, worn leather caressing his fingertip. The intoxicating puff of ink and aged parchment kissed the inside of his nostrils. This was his world. Books understood him in a way most people did not. It left him in a trance and Galahad found himself led by his fingers back to wear Draco stood. The pale blonde haired boy looked around to see if anyone was looking and to Galahad's shock ripped a page from the book he was looking at.

"Oi!" Galahad hissed, feeling wounded on behalf of the poor book. "What're you doing?"

Draco spun around and looked at Galahad with a suprised frown. "...It's complicated."

Galahad crossed his arms. "I'm a Fauste. Complicated is second nature. You can tell me or I can tell Daddy his son is a destroyer of books...and a petty thief."

Draco blanched. "It's... complicated, Galahad. But suffice it to say, I am trying to rebel slightly against my dad's scheming. Will that do?"

Galahad sighed and uncrossed his arms, playfully punching Draco in the shoulder as a dust mote tap danced in the air in front of his eye. "Fine. But don't ever deface a book in front of me again, mate, alright?

Draco nodded curtly. "...So conjecture has it you might get put in Slytherin." He was obviously trying to change the topic and Galahad noted it.

Galahad's smirk fell a bit. "I hope not. If I had a choice, it's obviously Ravenclaw. There's no question in my mind. Although there is question about something else." Galahad forced himself to smirk coyly as he leaned against one of the sturdy bookshelves. It was his turn to change the subject. "Rumour has it, you've got a hate boner for The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes with such force Galahad was sure he might've been possessed. "Such vulgarity doesn't suit you, Fauste. But if you must know, Potter is Arrogant, Self-righteous, and..."

Galahad stood their regretting his choice, half listening to his friend's several minute long rant and replying as needed. "That sucks, Mate." "That git!" and "He didn't?" came out of his mouth as often as they needed to. Until he saw that burnished copper in the sea of jostling elbows.

Draco stopped in mid-sentence with an exhasperated sigh. "Galahad-? Are you even listening?"

Galahad gestured at the girl with his chin, noticing how lost yet proud she looked, like someone determined to solve a puzzle on their own, and that any help would be unwelcome. "What do you reckon?"

Draco noticed her and shrugged. "Another wide-eyed mudbl..."

Galahad silenced him with a glare. "Your own words, Draco. Not your dad's."

Draco stared back a moment before looking away, plainly irritated at the correction but also partially ashamed. "Another wide-eyed muggleborn, no doubt. Another useless Hufflepuff."

Galahad shook his head and chuckled. "I don't think so. She holds herself too stiff and upright. Kind of like you, actually. I say half-blood. And Slytherin, probably."

Draco managed a smirk, something mischievous that Galahad always enjoyed seeing in someone that was such a stick in the mud as Draco. "Is this a wager, Galahad?"

Since the first time they'd met at a gala when Galahad was four and a half, it had been a long standing thing. They would make a wager using the proper coinage and they would keep a running tally of who was the 'richer' of the two of them. So far, it was Galahad.

Galahad's grin widened. "Yes. A three galleon bet, for now. And two galleons later when she's sorted. Deal?"

Draco nodded, a smile creeping on his own face. "Deal."

"What's that thing on your face? Could it be you can actually smile?" Galahad snorted in amusement.

Draco's smile fell, almost purposefully, but his eyes still held amusement. "Well, go get her, mate."

Galahad beamed at his friend and started to the bright haired girl. "Be prepared to pay me five galleons," Galahad added.

"It's three, so far. And you'll owe me, Galahad." Draco retorted dryly.

Galahad made his way through the crowd, which had condensed even further as Lockhart loudly made his debut, and he touched the girl's elbow. "You look lost. Me and my friend are waiting out the crowd in another nook and cranny nearby. You can still see what's going on but less likely to deal with these dimwits jostling you. Come on!" Galahad said gesturing towards Draco in the more abandoned corner of the store, yet still visible from the aisles and leading her there. Hesitantly she followed him and Galahad was wondering what she was thinking.

"Name's Galahad Percival Fauste." He said proudly and gestured to Draco. "This stiff oaf here is Draco Malfoy." His friend gave a single nod of acknowledgement, putting on an air of haughty distraction as though he couldn't be bothered. Galahad always enjoyed this front in a wager. It meant he was actually calculating the long odds more than people realized, something Galahad had caught on fairly early in their friendship. "And who might you be? I haven't seen you around Diagon Alley before, so I assume you've never been here before. Also, What's your blood status?"

The girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she responded in a robotically. "A bold assumption if you don't know me. But yes. My name is Shelliana Masten. I have not been here before and I don't know what a blood status is, but it sounds suspiciously racist."

Draco winced a little at her words."Blood status is your magical status in the world. I apologize with how rude my friend is. But what he meant to ask is: Are you by chance lost and disoriented because you're either a half-blood or muggleborn?"

Shelliana stared at Draco a moment, her chin jutting proudly up in dismissal. "And what business is it of yours?" Her english accent held the faintest whisper of another one he couldn't quite place. Finnish, perhaps?

Galahad leaned up against the bookshelf and grinned, brushing his hand through his hair, hoping he didn't get any dandruff on his leather jacket or the faded Ramones t-shirt underneath. "It's a friendly wager we have. I think you're a half-blood, by the way you hold yourself. I mean you're fairly independent but it doesn't seem like you've been around magic very long. Draco thinks Muggleborn, based on...?"

Draco frowned, slightly disgruntled at being put on the spot. "Your clothes and how...new...you seem. Again, I apologize for my friend. He's usually not this rude or uncouth, but rest assured he is most definitely this bold."

Galahad cocked his head in amusement. "Yes, but nevertheless I am quite curious and afterwards, I promise I'll drop the subject." He looked at Shelliana with an eyebrow raised. "Hell, you can even pick the subject. I'm sure you have loads of questions we can answer."

Shelliana scowled and after a long tentative pause, Galahad noted she was quite apprehensive. "My... acquaintance Larry already described some of this. I suppose I was raised non-magically, but I never knew my mother so I honestly don't know..."

Galahad looked coyly at Draco. "Hear that?"

Draco shook his head and commented wryly. "It means nothing."

Galahad shook his head and chuckled. "We'll see. Go on Shelliana. Ugh, that is a mouthful. Can I just call you Shelli? Anyway, Shelli. Anything you want to know?"

The store was a blur for the next twenty minutes as Galahad answered as many questions Shelli had to ask, getting corrected equally often by Draco. Galahad enjoyed this, although he couldn't explain why. It was at the end of it all he felt the words slide out of his mouth before he could stop them and the echo of it caused him to blush.

"You're adorably uncultured magically. I will be your guide to the world of magic from the time we arrive in the Hogwarts Express until the time we part ways at the end of our schooling. This I so swear."

"Oh no, if a Fauste does that, then you're hopelessly doomed.They've got the worst fashion sense." Blaise Zabini had slipped into their little hidey hole amongst other books, his silver and black suit carefully tailored and cut to accentuate his body.

Galahad smiled politely at the figure, but he felt slightly miffed about Zabini upstaging him. He wasn't as friendly with Blaise as he with Draco, but he knew him from the galas, and he was always good for gossip at the very least. He rolled his eyes, preparing to introduce him. "This is..."

Naturally, Galahad was cut off by the fabulous and over the top boy. "We've met. But I suppose I should properly introduce myself. Zabini. Blaise Zabini. Best of fashion at Hogwarts since Andre Egwu. I apologize but I need to borrow Draco for a moment. Slytherin house stuff. Toodles!"

Draco sighed and followed Blaise to another area in the bookshop leaving Galahad and Shelli alone in a state of awkward silence.