Hazel smiled, listening to Daphne and Dudley argue. It was like something out of the twilight zone, hearing Dudley talk easily about magic to a witch. The boy she remembered had been bitter and resentful about magic—while he had been good to her this past month, she never would have thought his new, friendly nature would be extended to her friends. Maybe she would have to take him up on his offers to play Mario more often or take him out on her broom. All this time, there had been a fine boy hidden under a layer of meanness, and Hazel wanted to get to know him. She smiled and pushed the remains of her sundae towards her cousin, who accepted it without pause.

Good to know that some things would never change.

Mr. Greengrass looked up with a frown. "Not hungry, Hazel?"

"Headache," she said.

"She means her scar is hurting but she doesn't want to tell anyone," Daphne said. Her father's frown deepened and he leaned forward, eyes scanning Hazel.

"You do look a bit peaky," he said.

"It's fine," she said, even though her head was throbbing. "Mr. Greengrass—can we go to Flourish and Blotts?"

"Who are you, Hermione?" Daphne said.

Hazel laughed and shook her head. "Would that be so bad?"

The look on Daphne's face said yes, it very much would be.

"It wouldn't kill you to pick up a book every now and then," Mr. Greengrass said mildly. "But yes, Hazel—we can stop by Flourish and Blotts. I must say, I rather expected you to ask to gawk at the new Firebolt on display down the way!" He stood up and sent their dirty dishes to the counter with a flick of his wand. He herded the three children towards the shop. No one approached the group, even if Hazel did attract some stares. Mr. Greengrass was an auror of some standing and no one wanted to cross him.

The shop was not as crowded as Hazel had seen it in the past, but of course, Hogwarts had not yet sent out the supply list. There were a few odd-looking patrons, but Hazel didn't think much of it. Mr. Greengrass approached a thin, worn man in a tatty cloak and started talking to him, keeping a weather eye on his charges. Dudley wandered off to the fiction section, leaving Daphne and Hazel alone.

She looked surreptitiously at Mr. Greengrass, whose eyes were now fixed on the door. She grabbed Daphne's wrist and pulled her down a dark aisle filled with dusty tomes.

"Hazel…" Daphne said. "You do realize this is the Dark Arts section?"

"I know," she said. "I'm looking for a book about basilisks…there's not much about them in the books Albus gave me."

"Probably because he knew it would give you a barmy idea, like this one."

"Come on," Hazel said. "An evil monster at Hogwarts, and you're not the least bit curious?"

"Maybe a little," Daphne said. "But you best hurry, dad will have a fit if he finds us here."

Hazel cast her eyes around, looking for a spine that said something about snakes, serpents, basilisks, monsters—anything that might be useful. A weathered tome on the bottom shelf caught her eye, bound in black letters and written in a slanting script that said The King of Serpents.

"Aha!" Hazel said pulling it out.

"Hazel," Daphne said. "That book isn't in English."

"What? Of course it is," she said, tilting the spine towards her friend.

"It looks like a bunch of loopy nonsense scribbles to me."

"It says it right there, the King of Serpents! It's about basilisks!"

"Put the book back—it gives me the creeps. Whatever it is, it's not normal."

"But it might have answers!"

"About what?"

"The thing that killed Ginny!"

"We already know what killed her," Daphne said. "A basilisk. What's the point of reading an evil book about an evil snake?"

"What if we run into it again?"

"—you're not going to look for that thing, are you?—"

"Of course not," Hazel said hastily. "But if we see it—"

"—I hope we don't—"

"I don't want to be helpless again!"

Daphne gave her a strange look, then turned away with a nod. She started back down the aisle only to run into a tall, handsome boy with a small girl by his side. He was one of the most handsome boys she had ever seen. He looked to be about sixteen, dark curls falling over his forehead into his eyes. He was the sort of boy that girls went crazy for, but there was something about him that Hazel didn't like. His dark eyes bore into her with an intensity that set her on edge. Her headache returned with new force.

"You're Hazel Potter," he said. "I know all about you. I can't say I expected to meet you…here." He leaned forward, looking at the dark books, towering over her.

"Took a wrong turn," she said, holding the book behind her.

He wasn't fooled. He tsked and leaned forward, taking the book from her. "My, my," he said. "The King of Serpents? It certainly wouldn't do for the Headmaster's ward to be spotted with such a book after a basilisk killed a girl last year."

"Who do you think you are?" Daphne said, stepping in front of Hazel. The boy towered over her too, but she was still much bigger than Hazel.

Daphne was suddenly clutching her shin. Hazel spotted a small, trollish girl standing in the boy's shadow—she had just kicked Daphne!

Hazel opened her mouth, but the boy was faster. Her head was pounding now.

"Now, Mavis," he said. "We mustn't fight as the Muggles do. Besides, they only asked who we are, after all…"

"—that wasn't exactly what I said—"

"So we should tell them," he said. "Hazel Potter, I am Macarius Gaunt. This is my sister, Mavis." There was a prickling in her head that reminded her of the professor—how did this boy know Legilimency? She tried to no avail to raise her mental barrier, even feeble as she knew it was, but her head felt like it was on fire. Her eyes drooped, and she slumped towards Daphne, who wrapped an arm around her. Everything was blurry, but he was no longer invading her mind.

"Hazel!" Daphne said, pulling her out of the aisle, towards Mr. Greengrass. Each staggering step sent shocks of pain through her body, but she kept on, spurred by Daphne. She heard Macarius and Mavis laughing and slipped into unconsciousness.

Severus was still processing the Headmaster's revelation when the floo roared to life. His hand dropped to his cloak pocket, where he had kept his wand for years—but now his lifelong companion was nothing but a snapped piece of wood. He stuffed his trembling hand in his pocket, not wanting Albus to see just how unnerved and defenseless he was.

*HP*

"HEADMASTER!"

Albus's tearful eyes turned hard as he sprung to his feet. Severus never knew David Greengrass to raise his voice—something must have happened. Nothing good, if the unflappable auror was spooked. Severus followed Albus to the living room, his heart dropping at the sight before him.

Greengrass held the tiny, still form of Hazel Potter in his arms. Albus was across the room in an instant, pulling the girl into his arms. For a terrible moment, Severus thought she was dead. Albus pressed a hand to her forehead, the girl now murmuring nonsense and what sounded like parseltongue.

"What happened?" Albus asked.

"—I don't know, she and Daphne went off to look at some books, I was watching the entrance and talking to Lupin—" he gestured wildly "—she had looked a bit peaky and complained of a headache, but she said she was fine! Next thing I know, Daphne is dragging her towards me, shouting—"

"David," Albus said, stilling the agitated man. "I know you did everything you could. Now please, retrieve young Daphne. To make sense of what happened, I need to know what she saw."

"Of course," he said, gathering himself up, going back to the fireplace in a few swift steps.

Severus walked to where Albus had laid the girl, her red hair sprawled around her face. Her face was flushed, and her eyes stared unseeingly upwards. She was burning hot and flinched away from his touch. Desperate, he held her by her chin and looked into her eyes but found only an impenetrable wall. She thrashed, striking out at him, until Albus immobilized her.

Albus summoned a chair and sat down in it, holding Hazel's hand. Greengrass returned shortly, his annoying child in tow. Before Albus could speak, Severus had his hand on her wrist. He leaned over, looking into her eyes, not caring how she shrunk away from him. "Tell me everything."

Greengrass shoved him away from the girl.

"Take care, Snape," he said. "Or I'll have you back in Azkaban."

"Time is of the essence," he said.

"Daphne will tell the truth," he said coolly. "You need only ask her."

The girl looked between him and her father, before shifting towards Albus. He kept hold of Hazel's hand but looked at the Miss Greengrass, an encouraging, if sad, smile. She shuffled towards Albus—typical, children always trusted the kindly headmaster. "What happened, Miss Greengrass?"

"Hazel and I, we were, er, looking at a book. Then a strange bloke—boy, really—came over and started talking to us. He gave me the creeps—Headmaster, is Hazel going to be alright?"

"I will do all I can for her," Albus said. "Do you know this boy?"

"No. He was only a few years older than us, but I've never seen him at Hogwarts. His sister was a little troll, she kicked me! He said his name was Macarius Gaunt—you don't think he did this to Hazel, do you?"

"I do not," Albus said, but Severus saw something shift in his eyes. He gripped the girl's hand tighter. "Tell me, Daphne, what book was Hazel looking at?"

"I'm not sure—" the girl said, glancing at her father. "—I, er, didn't get a good look at the cover…"

"Greengrass," Severus said, in his most dangerous tone. "The book could have held a curse—it is imperative you tell us, if you care at all about your friend."

The girl looked at Hazel. She was shaking now and drew closer to her father. "Dad—"

"Tell the Headmaster everything, Daphne."

She looked back to Albus, then down at her shoes. She muttered something.

"Daphne—" Greengrass said.

"She was looking for a book about basilisks, okay! She's been researching them all summer. She couldn't find anything in her magical creatures book—and I told her, probably because they're dark—and she went right to the dark arts section looking for one! I tried to stop her, dad!"

"Did she find what she was looking for?" Albus asked, ignoring the apoplectic look on Greengrass's face.

"Yeah," she said. "Or at least she said she did. She pulled out a book, said it was called the King of Serpents. But it just looked like a bunch of gibberish to me. I told her to put it back, but then that boy showed up and took it from her. He-he could read the title to."

*HP*

Dinner that night was a solemn affair. Albus had taken Hazel to St. Mungo's himself, against his advice. The press would descend on them like a swarm, as anything Hazel Potter or Albus Dumbledore attracted a lot of attention. The two of them together was nigh irresistible for those vultures, and her mysterious illness would be all over the trashy morning papers. The last thing the girl needed was the world speculating if she was affected by some dark magic…but then, he realized, she was affected by dark magic, because she was a horcrux…

"Is Hazel going to be okay?" Dudley asked.

"I don't know, Dudley," Albus said, looking his hundred years. "But I am doing everything in my power to help her."

The boy nodded and got up from the table, leaving his food mostly untouched. His bedroom door slammed behind him. When the boy didn't reappear, Albus produced a small book of black leather from his pocket and handed it to Severus. There was a serpent embossed on the front. He ran a finger over the spine and tried to read the loopy text, but it wasn't in any script he had ever seen.

"This is the book Greengrass was talking about?"

"Yes," Albus said. "David went back and found it, but it has little to do with Hazel's current condition."

"Little?"

"It's written in Parselscript," he said. "I do not know what information it holds, but it is not cursed, nor has it ever been."

"The girl is a parselmouth?"

"I believe so," Albus said. "I have only a theory, Severus. I believe Lord Voldemort transferred some of his powers to her through the horcrux—it would explain much."

"Is that possible?"

"Horcruxes are little studied for good reason—what they are capable of, I cannot say. Forgive an old man's foolishness, my boy, but it was not until recently that I accepted Hazel could be one. To use another human being, even unwittingly—it is unnatural beyond imagining."

"Albus," he said. "You know why she's sick, don't you?"

"Again, I have only a theory."

"Tell me."

"I believe she encountered Tom Riddle," he said. "Or rather, Macarius Gaunt."

"The Dark Lord?"

"Yes," he said. "The girl, Mavis, I knew of. She is Lord Voldemort's first cousin, the daughter of Morfin Gaunt…one of Slytherin's last living heirs. I thought her safe from Tom's machinations. The Tom Riddle I knew showed no sentimentality for blood relations unless it gained him something—and in this instance, it has. The world is only too ready to believe that mad Morfin Gaunt had another child he hid away and overlook his resemblance to the boy who took up the mantle of Lord Voldemort."

"And no one is suspicious," he said. "That someone who happens to look exactly like the Dark Lord as a boy is walking about?"

"Few remember Tom Riddle, the brilliant orphan boy who all but disappeared fifty years ago. Fewer still know who he became. And I myself was unwilling to believe it on Miss Greengrass's description alone. But Garrick Ollivander wrote me today, telling me of a boy curiously like Tom Riddle, who came looking for a wand…"

Flames flared green in the fireplace. A harried-looking Lupin came through, dusting off his shabby robes, a tall but emaciated dog at his side, growling at him. The last Marauder was thin, scarred, and worn. Life had not been kind to the werewolf, but Severus did not pity him. He hated him still, and all he represented.

"Lupin," he snarled.

"Snape? What are you doing here?"

"He is my guest, Remus. I assume you have come to inquire after Hazel?"

"I wish it were so simple," he said, running a hand through his greying hair. "Albus—there's been a breakout from Azkaban. A mass breakout orchestrated by Death Eaters. I don't know how it hasn't been reported…the Ministry must be covering it up, somehow—"

"And just how do you know this, Lupin?" Severus snarled.

The wolf shot Albus a pleading look. "I would like to talk to Albus alone," he said, trying and failing at being polite and even toned. The dog growled at him again and drew closer. It was a vicious looking thing, and Severus wished he had his wand in case it decided to attack. Albus seemed as serene as ever.

"Keep your mongrel under control before I curse it!"

The dog was snarling now.

"Enough, Padfoot," Lupin said. The growling ceased, but the dog kept a watchful eye on him. "Albus—please, I need to talk to you. There's—there's a lot to explain. Order business."

"If it is Order business," Albus said. "Then Severus should be here too." He said it with finality. Resignation was written on Lupin's face. The wolf sat down at the table, the dog trailing by his side.

"It's a long story," Lupin said. "Let me start at the beginning."