Leo was wedged into a little corner in the Slytherin common room, between Marisa and Theo. They were all holding plates of party food, and chattering nervously amongst themselves.
"A troll?" asked Theo, worried. "That could kill someone."
Marisa smiled coldly. "Bet you a million po – Galleons Potter stops it."
Leo shrugged.
"I could probably take on a troll," said Theo. "I'm one of the oldest in my year, I turned twelve last month. When was your birthday again, Leo? I forgot."
"First of December," said Leo. "The beginning of winter."
"I thought that was the twenty-first," said Theo at the same time as Marisa gasped.
"What?" asked Leo, slightly confused.
"That's the same as mine!"
"What a coincidence!" said Theo, but Leo was beginning to have his doubts. There had been a lot of coincidences involving himself and Marisa in the last few months: the way she'd seemed so familiar, the dream he'd had, and now their shared birthdays.
There had to be some sort of connection between them – but what?
Later that evening, he wrote to the Malfoys, using the eagle owl he shared with Draco.
Lucius, Narcissa,
Did you ever have any contact with a Muggle family called King? There is a rather familiar-seeming Mudblood in Slytherin.
Your loving son,
Leo.
He tied it to the owl's leg and watched as it flew away into the distance. Soon, perhaps, he would find out the truth.