"So, can you turn a matchstick into a needle?" The first year nodded, looked slightly offended, but offended seemed like a better position than nearly in tears, so Cassius decided he would take it. "What do you picture, when you do that?"

"The needle." The first year looked confused now. Turning matchsticks into needles was good and well, but turning a statue into a bird was entirely different.

"Exactly, you have to picture the end result. What color the feathers are, the shape of the beak, everything. But it's trickier than that, do you know why?"

"Because the bird's alive?"

"Right again! So when you picture your bird, picture it doing something, like singing, or hopping around, and then— Avifors—" Cassius waved his wand, a small robin appearing in place of one of the statues sitting in front of them, hopping around the desk. "Do you think you've got it?" The first year (Cassius really had to remember the kid's) nodded hesitantly, and focused on the other statue.

"Avifors!" A blue jay appeared, very nearly correct. It would have been perfect, in fact, if it weren't for the fact that it had very small human legs rather than legs of a normal bird. Trying very hard not to laugh, Warrington instead nodded encouragingly, turning to the younger boy.

"Closer, that's loads better than earlier! Keep practicing that, er… Nigel, was it?" Nigel (Cassius was rather proud of himself for remembering) nodded, looking considerably happier, although still not quite satisfied (due, Cassius was fairly sure, to the legs). Warrington undid the transfigurations and returned the statues to the storage shelf, allowing himself to laugh at the bird, now that Nigel was gone. He'd been so caught up in studying the lake and looking into the clue that he'd barely done any tutoring, and had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. Seeing someone break through a block was satisfying in itself, but the transformations like these were better. He laughed harder as he recalled the time the year before that a first year, mishearing his instructions during review, had turned a mouse into a giant toy box, telling him crankily that she had made a stuff-box, and she didn't know what was so funny about it.

"You know, some people say laughing alone is a sign of insanity." The dry voice cut through Warrington's laughs as its owner looked on from the doorway.

"What can I say? I'm able to find joy in the simpler things in life. Are you here for tutoring? 'Cause I only do fourth year and down, McGonagall likes the seventh years to do anyone else."

"Like I would come to you for help." Marietta grinned as she said it, and Cassius only rolled his eyes. "I came to find you. The Hufflepuffs are having a party tonoight to celebrate Elora Dunn's birthday— you know, since she's head girl—and Patty Stimpson wanted to invite Jack what's-his-name, the one in your year, but didn't want him to feel alone, so she decided to invite all of your lot, since she apparently talked to you all at the Yule Ball." Cassius blinked at this overload of information, which seemed much too complicated.

"I don't even know Elora Dunn. And wait, why are you telling me? You aren't even a Hufflepuff, it isn't even your party!"

"Well yeah, but Trudy Galston knew that I knew you, so she told Patty that she'd ask me to talk to you, since it is the fifth years setting up the party, so they have final say on any out of house visitors."

"And so Patricia couldn't just ask Jack sometime? I mean, I think they're literally in the library right now." Marietta shrugged, and Cassius shook his head. "And you people say Slytherins are confusing. Hufflepuff politics are the ones that don't make any sense. I'll talk to the others though, I'll see Andrew at five, for some two-on-two." Marietta nodded, then looked at her watch.

"It's 5:05."

"Merlin, Fawley is going to kill me." Cassius headed out the door of the classroom, waving at Marietta, who looked very much like she wanted to laugh, but was being polite enough to hold it in.

/

"So that explains why Jack is going, but I still don't get why I'm expected to be there. With a load of Hufflepuffs." Andrew made a face at the last word, as if being Hufflepuff was a deadly disease, which Warrington didn't quite understand, but was unsurprised by.

"Better than a load of Gryffindors," Pucey pointed out. Andrew opened his mouth to argue, but then shrugged instead, acquiescing the point. "And, as Warrington's just told us, we've been invited so Jack isn't the only Slytherin. And, at Warrington neglected to say, and probably hasn't realized, because being Hogwarts champion has its perks—" Warrington spluttered indignantly, but Pucey pushed on—"and those perks happen to include being invited to parties. We, as his friends, just get to go along for the ride."

"Works out nicely for us, doesn't it? Thanks, mate." On saying the latter, he turned to Warrington with a grin. "Almost makes up for the fact that you were fifteen minutes late to pickup tonight."

"Fawley, I've just explained—" Cassius broke off as Andrew laughed, rolling his eyes. "Salazar, would you grow up." In spite of himself, Cassius cracked a smile. He'd been on edge lately, worried about the second task, spending every spare minute trying to figure out where the merpeople lived, taking notes on the different creatures that he saw, then proceeding to look them up and find spells to fight them, if needed. And trying to figure out what the merpeople would take…Cassius blinked realizing Pucey and Fawley were looking worriedly at him from across the table. He forced the smile back onto his face, determined not to think about the task for at least the rest of the night. "Don't eat too much, now. We've got a party tonight, and I've heard the Puffs throw ragers."

"Yeah, we know Warrington, we were at the Yule Ball too." Adrian rolled his eyes, then flinched backward as Cassius hit him in the face with an impeccably aimed kernel of corn, causing Andrew to dissolve into laughter. Cassius smiled to himself, giving Adrian his best look of innocence as he raised his glass of pumpkin juice to his lips. Yeah, a night without thinking about any of the tournament sounded pretty okay.

/

For being stereotyped as the nice house, Hufflepuffs were blunt. A little too blunt, if you asked Cassius, who was sitting, Butterbeer in hand, staring at the one in front of him. He was honestly at a loss for words. It didn't happen often, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of what to say when a boy who couldn't be older than fourteen came up and asked if he believed in "that blood purity crap", and if so, why he'd come to mix with "the lesser race—I've heard muggleborns are contagious." So instead, he was just staring.

"Well?" At this prompting, Cassius scowled and stood up, walking to the other side of the common room, where a window was letting a slight breeze in. He had the feeling that his new friends would've been disappointed in him, felt that he should have been able to say "of course not!" Right away. But he couldn't, could he?

The Warringtons were an old wizarding family, along with the Fawleys and the Puceys. He'd grown up alongside Andrew and Adrian, been taught that his blood gave him an advantage. To call someone a mudblood hadn't been seen as wrong, although he had been taught to never use it in the presence of "outsiders"—anyone who his parents weren't friends with. But then, fifth year, Bagley'd gotten the prefects badge. The half-blood. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was, a bit. His parents had said it was just Dumbledore's prejudice, but Cassius had silently disagreed. Jack had earned the badge through hard work. At the time, he'd written it off as the purer side of him winning out. But now…this year, he'd been helped by Harry Potter, the most Gryffindor of the Gryffs, become friends with Marietta, a half-blood, and had even begun to think that the Weasley twins weren't so bad, in spite of the fact that they were from the biggest family of blood traitors in the wizarding world. But he couldn't just turn his back on all of the years of tradition. Of respect for magic, of family spells, handed down from generation to generation. No, Cassius had been taught to fight for the right to believe what he wanted.

"I don't know what I want to believe." The words came out in a whisper, too quiet for anyone to hear over the party music. Cassius didn't want to become an honorary Weasley, a poster child for a new beginning. But he wasn't blind. He'd seen the tattoos on the forearms of his and his friends' fathers, seen the robes hanging in the back of the closet. He'd heard the nervous whispers, the fearful mutterings about the possibility of the return of a master who was to be feared. And he was sure he didn't want that either.

Maybe, if he'd not been in Slytherin, it would've been easier. But he was, and he was proud of it. Proud of the house that had helped shape him into someone worthy of being a Hogwarts champion, and not quite ready to make a decision that would shake that pillar of strength to the very core. It felt disloyal.

Cassius drained the rest of his Butterbeer with no small amount of frustration. He'd come here to get his mind off of his troubles, not to introduce new ones. To make matters worse, Stimpson hadn't been lying—the party was a good one. Dishes of food seemed never to run out, music was playing loudly, the drinks table held everything from Butterbeer to Ogden's Finest to potions that made the drinker breathe fire or float to the vaulted ceiling in bubbles of various colors. Tables floated in the air, with broomsticks on the sides of the rooms to access them, clearing the majority of the floor for dancing.

"You look on the verge of a wistful sigh, and I can't have you ruining our reputation as cold assholes, so I thought you could use something stronger." Adrian held out a glass of what Cassius supposed was firewhiskey, and he took it. "For someone who was so intent on coming tonight, you look downright morose. So what's up?" There was a laugh in Adrian's voice, and Cassius was pretty sure his friend didn't have any idea what he was getting himself into.

"Have you ever wondered where we'll stand?"

"What?" Cassius took a deep breath, deciding whether or not to dive into this conversation.

"We've both seen the signs. The Dark Lord is coming back. I don't know how, or when, but when he does, where will we stand?" Adrian closed his eyes and swallowed, but before he could comment, Cassius pressed on. "I mean, there's no way they'll trust us." He gestured to the crowd as he spoke. "They'd be crazy to. But what are our choices then. Because I don't think we'll be allowed to stand with them, but for Merlin's sake, I sure as hell don't want to stand against them."

"Even though they'd stand against you in a heartbeat? Even though, for all their proclaimed courage, they'd be too cowardly to let you stand with them?" Adrian's words cut through Cassius like a knife, and both boys fell silent for a moment.

"Yes. Even then." As he said it, a shiver ran down Warrington's spine. Adrian nodded.

"Then I guess our only option is to stay out of it, yeah?" Warrington raised an eyebrow.

"Our?" Adrian gave a twisted smile.

"If you think I could shoot a spell at my classmates any easier than you, you don't know me as well as I thought."

"Fawley could." The words were out before Warrington had really thought about it. Adrian pursed his lips, but didn't argue. Cassius wished he would, wished Adrian would tell him that that was ridiculous, that Andrew might care about blood status, but wouldn't fight anyone over it, wouldn't hurt someone for being having muggle parents. But he didn't.

"I guess we'll just have to change his mind, then." Cassius' frown deepened, and he pretended that the burning feeling that had overtaken his head was the fire whiskey he sipped and not the tears he was holding back. Beside him, he heard Adrian snort, a sound which quickly turned into a chuckle, then full out laughter.

"Salazar, Pucey, there's a time and a place!" Adrian only laughed harder. Cassius was at a loss for words, looking at his usually composed friend, seeing a side of him that rarely emerged.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just… If someone'd told me a week ago that I'd be at a party in the Hufflepuff common room talking to you about the political problems that arise from blood purity, I'd have told them it was a load of dragon dung." Adrain gave another chuckle, and Cassius cracked a smile. It was true, it wasn't a situation he ever would've imagined.

"Maybe it's something about the common room. The Hufflepuff-ness is rubbing off on us or something."

"What, we're catching some kind of disease? The huffle Puffs?" The pun was awful, and Cassius groaned, which made Pucey laugh again, and the two grabbed some brooms, got some food, and found their third friend. And although everything wasn't okay, not really, not at all, they had that moment to spend together, an anchor to hold onto in the storm that was to come.

Okay, so that was a lot... heavier than I planned. I've been trying to figure out how to talk about the boys backgrounds, because that's not something that's come up. And, strangely enough, having it come out at a Hufflepuff party felt... simple. In all the drawings people do, the Hufflepuff common room looks so peaceful, like the place you can let out a secret or have a heart to heart. And I can't just not address everything that's impending, that's already in place, the strings that are pulling the boys from both sides. And so here we are. As always, thank you for your support. This was a hard chapter to write, because it shows deeper into who the characters are, and I wanted to do their complexity justice. So it's been forever, but thanks to everyone who's stuck with me.

Next chapter: the second task (finally!) happens, and the resulting drama. Maybe some discussions, maybe some classes (wow, do they actually go to classes? not really in my story so far), we'll see.

As always, I love feedback, so please review with any questions or concerns!