Harry by Proxy

by The Smiling Crow

Harry Potter's uncle goes too far and a broken, bleeding Harry is left in his cupboard. However, he is rescued and taken in by our favorite, faceless entity in a suit; Slenderman. How will Hogwarts deal with a corrupted Harry Potter? Harry Potter x Creepypastas. Dark-ish!Harry. Teen for general Creepypasta goodness and language. Manipulative Dumbledore and Weasley Bashing.

25. Trains, Pains, and Reading Brains

(Professor Farnsworth Voice): Good news, everyone!

I've updated!

(Normal AN voice): I have a hilarious new story, too! So recently, a random questionnaire appeared (a legitimate one, too) that asked "What is the best style of pasta?" It gave options like 'spaghetti', 'rigatoni', 'ravioli', etc. but also 'other' with a request to put something in the comment section.

So, I chose 'other' and commented "Creepy". :)

This chapter is a little longer. I initially was going to cut it off half-way through, but decided that it felt too awkward. So as an apology for taking so long to update; a long chapter! Yay!

I own nothing. Enjoy!

-Crow

---

Horns blared. People mulled about seemingly random, but with determined time-set schedules in mind. Men in uniforms directed people about the busy platforms at Kings Cross Station. Trams pulled in and out on a regular basis, carrying hundreds of people across the country.

Another busy morning at Kings Cross Platforms 9 and 10.

As such, the lone figure leaning against the wall partition between the two, partially hidden in a shadow, was almost completely unnoticed. He pressed himself against the wall to keep as out of the way as possible from the flow of people moving around him. He had his hoodie over his head, covering his face from the occasional sneering businessman, grumbling about lay-a-bouts and lazy teenagers, as well as the occasional old woman calling him a hooligan for loitering.

He ignored them for the most part, only sneering back at a particularly loud, grumbling CEO. Whenever a constable came over to try to detain him for loitering, he'd seem to slip away each time unnoticed. Then, almost as soon as the constable was far enough away, the teenager would reappear.

After three times of doing this, the man took to patrolling that spot and watching it more carefully, only to find the figure across the platform and having to rush to the other side before he'd mysteriously vanish again to the other side.

Jeff snickered as the constable threw down his hat in frustration. The man was stuck on Platform 7 after trying to tail him and noticing his white hoodie leaning against the wall again all the way on Platform 9. Then, naturally, two trains pulled in on Platforms 7 and 8 and the constable was lost in the large crowd of people all rushing to get off and on at once.

Poor bastard never stood a chance.

So, Jeff just kept leaning against the partition, eyes surveying everything… searching for anything out of the ordinary.

"-packed with muggles, of course."

Muggles?

His ears perked up and his head swiveled under the hood to see a huge group of people, a family, probably, with flaming red hair that he'd swear was dyed if not for the plump woman leading them having the same colored hair, but a very no-nonsense look to her that suggested she'd never approve of hair dye like that.

He took in the group more carefully. There was one mother, four boys, and a girl. 'Big family,' He thought.

The woman was short and plump with careworn lines and a kind of sternness as well. She seemed to be shepherding the entire group by herself and had her daughter's hand firmly in her own.

The oldest boy looked about 15, maybe 16 and held his head high with an almost arrogant pomp to it. The next two were maybe 13 and completely identical twins. They seemed to have a permanent smirk like some huge inside joke was currently happening around them or there was residual laughter from a particular prank they'd pulled. Their eyes had the same mischievous spark that they'd come to recognize in LJ whenever he had a 'surprise' set up.

The last boy was gangly and tall with so many freckles that an oncologist would probably flip if he walked in the office. Despite the height, he seemed about Harry's age, just pushing the cusp of puberty with the same awkward walk that Nick was adjusting to after his perma-glamour incident.

All of the boys had large baggage carts with two or three trunks stacked on top of one another, but the oldest boy had a gray-feathered, tired-looking owl hooting in the cage on top.

Noticing the owl, he discretely moved with the group weaving through the crowd. He stuck to the sidelines, allowing him to slip past the rush of people a lot faster than the family stuck in the middle of it. He kept listening in to their conversation.

"Now, what's the platform number?"

"Nine and three-quarters," said the girl with exasperation, "Mum, can't I go-?"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet." Jeff's glamoured eyes narrowed as opposed to his real, shriveled eyelids. They weren't exactly being subtle on the whole 'platform 9 ¾' thingy. Heck, several of the businessmen overheard the girl's high-pitched whine and looked directly at the conspicuous family of redheads. He heard a passing suit mumble confusedly 'Nine and three-quarters? Absolutely barmy.'

Slendy and that McGonagall woman said these people were sticklers for secrecy. You'd think these people would know that with three older kids already in Hogwarts… or at least, he assumed from the trunks and age.

The woman stopped at a brick archway between the platforms with few people sticking around. "Alright, Percy, you go first."

The oldest boy pushed his cart in line with the archway and began running at ramming speed towards the brick wall. Suddenly, a crowd of tourists walked right between his view of the eminent crash and he scowled, wanting to see what would happen. The last tourist walked away, camera clicking noisily and the teenaged killer got a look at the area again.

There was an undamaged archway with no bloody, bruised teenager moaning on the ground by scattered clothes and bags. And, of course, no resounding crash echoing through the platform.

He cursed those stupid tourists, all of whom were completely unaware of the murderous glare trained on them. Jeff tore his eyes away to carefully watch what happened next.

"Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," Said Twin 1, "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear." She said tiredly.

Twin 1 lined himself up with the wall while Twin 2 was right behind. Just before breaking into a run, Twin 1 turned to her and grinned, "Only joking, I am Fred."

He walked towards the platform, with Twin 2 running just behind him. Jeff ignored the sudden, odd urge to look away or blink despite not having eyelids.

Then, the two twins moved through the wall, like a holographic illusion with a more substantial appearance. Jeff's glamour allowed a grin reminiscent of the carved one, "Bingo."

Then, the son slowly walked up to the spot without his brothers' sense of urgency. The mother, likewise, wasn't ushering him forward, instead seeming to look around the thinning crowd around them. Her lips pursed in serious worry. "He ought to be here," he heard her mumble quietly.

They stood like that for almost an entire minute, the girl also beginning to look around anxiously. Finally, the woman looked up at the clock and motioned for her son to go through. He disappeared through the wall and with one final glance about, she followed to.

Jeff frowned in thought. 'That was… weird.'

He smirked as the constable began rushing through the crowd towards his position. By the time the man go to the spot, he'd disappeared… and made sure he was seen one last time on the platform walkway three rows down before making his way back to Slender.

---

"Slendy, I'm boooored." Sally whined.

"Sally." Slender warned quietly, nodding to the people milling around them.

Sally started, realizing the name slip. She thought for a moment before grinning and putting on her most 'innocent' face. "Daddy, I'm booooored." Slender took a deep breath, ignoring the snickers from the other wards around him. The term was equally unpreferable.

"Just call me Solomon or Mr. Lindermann, Sally. And do try to remember. This is a covert operation we're pulling." He said tightly. Sally sighed and nodded, returning to kicking her feet rhythmically on the bench.

They were waiting at the platform, having gotten up early to account for the British time shift. Slender had personally asked Jeff to come along at such an ungodly hour because he was their best reconnaissance. Jeff, unwilling to sleep just to get up so early, compromised to staying up all night with the help of three cans of Monster and spending almost all night playing a video game in the living room (to BEN's envy).

Sally and Toby tagged along because they were eager to see the train for themselves and were willing to set alarms for it. EJ was also interested, but was so tired and out-of-it from studying Ollivander's materials for the past week that he couldn't be bothered to wake up. Slender warned him that if that were the case, they leave him, so they did. Smile couldn't be brought because a dog would complicate reconnaissance and, plus, train stations tended to be finicky about dogs on or off leashes.

Nick, Adrian, and Harry were tapping the handles to their luggage trolleys anxiously as the seconds ticked closer and closer to 11:00.

"What if we miss the train?" Harry asked anxiously.

Slender shrugged, "Then we send the messenger bird to Dumbledore explaining what happened."

Ollivander had persuaded McGonagall to leave through some unknown means (probably magic), but in the process of her hurriedly leaving, he only managed to gather that the platform was 9 and 3/4, it left at 11:00 in King's Cross, but naturally she never said where it'd be.

Jeff was sent to scope out the area around platforms 9 and 10 (the most probable location of the place "in-between") for suspicious activity or unusual people using hidden entrances or some such method to get to this mysterious train.

There was an incoherent whisper of wind as Jeff used a hidden, temporary, short-range Slender Port symbol to appear in the shadowy area just behind them. Sally and Toby jumped up from their seats, "Finally!" She exclaimed.

"I found it." Jeff stated simply.

Slenderman sighed in relief before checking his watch; 10:45. Cutting it close, "Excellent. Now how do we get through?"

Jeff grinned.

---

The disguised killer led them through the crowd on Platforms 9 and 10 quickly. Finally, he stopped at the particular arch he'd seen the family use. "Okay, we're here."

Nick, Adrian, and Harry huffed as they caught up, pushing their heavy loads in front of them. They looked up at Jeff who was just pointing to the wall behind him. The teen killer was grinning broadly, "Just take a running start straight at the wall and you get across to your train."

The three students-to-be stared incomprehensibly at the wall. "You expect us to just run straight into a wall?" Adrian asked.

"Yep."

"And this isn't a joke?" Nick questioned seriously.

"Nope."

"Prank?"

"Nope."

"Attempt to sucker us into doing something boneheaded?"

"Not as far as you know." Jeff answered smugly.

Harry sighed. Jeff was not making this easy. "I'll go first." He offered.

Jeff stood out of the way and let him have a clear shot straight at the wall. Slender, Adrian, Nick, and the others looked on, half wondering if it would work, half doubting the teen.

Harry pushed forward, the wheels on the cart slowly rotating. He got closer and the cart gained momentum. He kept running, the cart was unstoppable now- save for a jarring impact. Point of no return.

The bricks blurred into a tunnel view. He screwed his eyes shut.

…

…

"Watch it!"

He opened his eyes and swerved to miss someone's luggage cart, digging his heels into the ground to slow the cart to a stop. He stood there, huffing at the close call and looking back, he saw an older teen in black robes protectively checking his luggage cart before turning to Harry.

He looked up and down the boy and his anger dissipated to a wry smile. "First year?"

Harry nodded. "And I'm guessing muggleborn?" Harry half-nodded. The older boy sighed, "Well, next year, keep your eyes open and don't keep running after you hit the barrier, you'll bowl someone over."

"Sorry." Harry mumbled. The older boy nodded and took hold of his cart and started pushing it-

-narrowly missing being run over by Nikolaus and his tower of trunks. Nick had his eyes shut as he exit and opened them when he didn't feel the impact. When he saw the crowd of students on the other side, he panicked and started stumbling to a stop, clumsily trying to break his momentum.

As such, his careening cart almost slammed into a poor, round-faced boy on all fours on the ground. Still, the awkward landing caused the top trunk and Hedwig's cage to fall off the tower and Nick to fall to the ground.

Harry hurried over and helped him up, along with soothing a ruffled and irate Hedwig. Thankfully, the clasps on the trunk held and nothing spilled out to pick up.

"Neville!"

A stern-faced old woman in dark brown robes with a witch's hat decorated with a full-sized stuffed vulture walked over and frowned. "Neville, just what happened?"

The boy, Neville, stammered, "I- I'm sorry, gran- er, grandmother, I was looking for Trevor."

"Oh, Neville. Lost it again?" She said, exasperated. He meekly nodded as she ushered him away, leaving Nick to dust himself off. Harry and he shared a glance before they nonverbally agreed to just wait for Adrian and get on the train.

Adrian came into view, coming to a full, controlled stop with his eyes open as he walked out. He noticed their looks of slight envy and gave a tiny smirk while pushing his cart along towards them.

Moments later, Slender, Jeff, Sally, and Toby followed through. Sally and Toby were starry-eyed at the sight of the vintage, scarlet train straight out of a storybook. They were amazed by the crowd, too. Not human crowds, but wizard crowds. People in black robes drifted around, talking to parents. Luggage was being levitated by wands (from parents) onto the train. Tiny wizzbangs were set off here and there. Owls and cats roamed randomly from their cages.

"So cool." Toby murmured, watching a sparking wisp, launched by some upper years, fly about on its own before fading to nothingness.

One boy with dreadlocks had a box in his hand with a large, hairy leg poking out from it. Boys looked at it curiously while girls mostly screeched at it to go away.

Slendy coughed uncomfortably. The heavy smoky-steam combination reminded the entity of the days of Victorian London's coal-fed smog. He turned to the three students also gawking in amazement at the impressive sight. "Well, you three ought to find a compartment soon, but I want to talk to you for a moment."

He brought out something in a case he'd brought with him. "This used to be mine and until we can figure out how to adapt a CD player or radio, I figure it would be good as a pastime. It's just been in the attic for years, but the cylinders are still good."

He opened the case and showed them a folded-away wind-up phonograph with a small, bronze horn. Also in the case were about 20 brass cylinders neatly labeled and in small cases. Harry picked one up and read 'Beethoven's Seventh Symphony' on the tiny label. Adrian smiled, reading another cylinder of Liszt's works "Cool." He murmured.

"And Harry," He said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a gray-white stone with a slender marking burnt into it. "This is a tracking stone. I sometimes give them to Masky or Hoodie to set up a covert teleportation spot where they travel. I'll know the moment you set it down and be able to travel there momentarily to set up more permanent Ports."

Harry nodded solemnly, tucking the stone in his own pocket. He smiled up at his guardian, "Bye Mr. Lindermann, I'll see you over break."

Slender gave a small chuckle, "Well, perhaps not."

Harry frowned at the odd statement, but before he could talk, a whistle sounded for all stragglers to start boarding. He, Adrian, and Nick all hurried over and started loading their luggage onto one of the cars. Slender took the carts to return them back on the muggle side of the platform. They found an empty compartment in the car and hurried in, opening the window and waving out to the others.

The train suddenly jerked forward and slowly chugged as the train gained momentum. Kids waved out the windows to the parents lined up tearfully on the platform, waving handkerchiefs and watching their children go off to school for the next few months. A lot of 'be sure to write!' was heard through the din.

When the train burst from the dim platform into the late summer sunlight. Harry sent a wide grin to Nick who returned it while Adrian just had a small smile, but it was more than he usually sent.

They were finally going to Hogwarts.

---

A few minutes in, they'd just left London and approached the countryside. Harry already settled in for a nap (they got up extra early for the time shift, after all) while Adrian contentedly started reading a book and Nick let Hedwig out and alternatively watched her preen herself and watched the passing houses and trees out the car window.

Their compartment door opened suddenly and a gangly, redheaded boy poked his head in, "Exc-"

"Sh!" Adrian hushed, motioning towards Harry's sleeping form. The boy was turned away from the door and huddled into himself, so his face was almost entirely obscured.

The boy frowned, trying to get a better look at the boy he couldn't see the face of before he caught the black-haired-boy narrowing his eyes in suspicion and had to turn his attention back to him. He spoke slightly softer. "Er, I heard Harry Potter was supposed to be on the train this year. Have you seen him?"

"No." Adrian lied smoothly. Nick glanced over, but mostly preoccupied himself with watching Hedwig ruffle her feathers clean on the luggage tray.

The boy sent another look at the unknown boy in the corner, "I don't suppose you know if that's him, do you?" In response, Adrian shrugged. Undeterred, the redhead spoke louder. "Oi, a-are you Harry Potter?"

The unknown boy shuffled his arms, burrowing deeper into himself and away from light and noise. The boy kept trying. "Name's Ron. Ron Weasley."

His persistence got him an annoyed groan muffled by a sleeve. Ron began getting irritated, "Well, are you?"

The figure (who was Harry), was now awake, pretending to sleep, and very tempted to pull out one of the throwing knives to get rid of the pig headed boy permanently. But, he refrained.

"Oi, are you listening?!"

Barely.

"Can you not?" Nick finally spoke. "He's obviously not and you're just annoying him and us, for that matter."

Ron sneered, hearing the American accent, "Yeah, like Harry Potter's going to hang about with a foreigner like you."

Nick's eyebrows raised into his hairline as the boy slammed the sliding door shut and continued stalking down the train compartments. When the footsteps faded away, Harry sat up and shot a glare in the direction of the redhead. "Annoying prick."

Adrian nodded in agreement. Nick huffed angrily, "I know America's supposedly really against racism, sexism, and all those other stupid '-isms', but it really bites being on the receiving end of something like that."

"Welcome to Wizarding Britain," Adrian remarked, "We've got an entire year to make our impressions."

Nick's eyes brightened, "Hey! There's an idea to blend in! Impressions! 'ello govna, care for a spot o' tea 'fore I give you a jolly good shoe-shine."

Harry was sent into rolling laughter, "Y-you're h-h-horrible. Ahaha!"

Nick continued pursing his lips and holding an imaginary monocle until a woman knocked on the frosted glass pane to their compartment. They opened it and she smiled in on them, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

She showed them the various Wizarding candies available and they asked her questions about them, what they were like, and so forth. She was happy to answer them, even give a few recommendations. They bought a bit of everything and Harry paid with a small coin purse of wizard money.

They tried a little of everything. The chocolate frog proved surprising when they opened it and the candy croaked at them and almost hopped out of the package. They had conflictions about eating it until Nick accidentally held it too long and it started melting, resulting in the frog to stop acting like a frog and more like a rapidly-melting collection of chocolate.

The undead corpse was brave enough to try it and informed the others that it tasted just like normal Hershey's chocolate. He wiped his hands off with a napkin and they experimented with a few others, finding that the second any part of the chocolate was broken, the frog stopped croaking and moving. They resolved to keep one or two in their bags for later.

They brought out the beans which came with the cart-witch's warning that they meant every flavor. Adrian proclaimed he had the 'Luck of the Bean' after seven tries yielded buttered popcorn, cotton candy, strawberry, lime, pina colada, chocolate, and peppermint while Nick wound up with liver, sprouts, spinach, earwax, catfish, sauerkraut, and bacon (which he angrily declared was absolutely disgusting on anything besides pure, real bacon).

They were munching on some Licorice Wands, which was just a normal licorice stick (Nick was even happy they had the cherry-flavored Twizzler kind of "licorice" instead of the traditional, bitter black kind Adrian was eating), when the compartment door knocked and they opened it to see the round-faced boy there, "Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?"

They shook their heads and he sighed in frustration and wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," Harry assured him. The boy half-heartedly nodded.

"I guess, well if you find him…" He shut the compartment while softly mumbling the finale of the sentence. Then, he left down the hall in continued pursuit.

"Poor kid," Nick commented, "I mean I almost killed him right off the bat. Then, he's got his Granny out there and she seemed like a real piece of work. Finally, he's got all the backbone of a snail. He's even got a mental shell to stick himself in."

Adrian nodded, "Confidence is an important aspect in life. He'll find his toad eventually."

"Speaking of," Nick continued, "Where's your pet? I mean, I got Hedwig; Harry's got BRVR… hey! You could get a toad, too, and round it all out!"

Adrian grimaced, "Yech, no. I'd rather not hold onto a pimply, toxic, pus-filled toad thank-you-very-much. Besides, Slender gave me something."

He pulled out a mess of wires from his trunk and opened it into a collapsible, full-sized wire cage. Nick raised an eyebrow and nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, Birdicus Imaginationis, the rarest sight to not behold."

Adrian gave a withered glare before sending out a low whistle. The compartment darkened as a shadow coalesced on the wall, erupting into a messenger bird which phased through the wire mesh onto the perch. Hedwig hooted in alarm from her own cage and stared at the new bird with wide, gold eyes.

"Slender authorized me to have a messenger bird. He told the Department handling these guys I'd be on an extended duty out of standard communication range and they allowed me to keep one." Adrian explained. "It's pretty self-sustaining, so I don't need to feed it. It'll just hang out with the rest of the owls over the school year."

Hedwig was still hooting nervously at the new creature. Nick hummed and turned to Harry, "I think it'd be good to bring out BRVR, too. Get them familiar with each other."

Harry looked between the glaring, black bird-creature and the terrified, white owl and nodded. "Yeah, probably," He set his head between the messenger bird and Hedwig. "Hey, girl. Don't worry, this guy's not going to hurt you. Okay? I'm bringing out someone else, he's also not going to hurt you."

Hedwig looked on in trepidation, seemingly understanding the entire conversation as Harry slowly reached for his backpack and opened the flap to nudge BRVR sleeping in a pile of clothes. The cat-like mouse opened a bleary eye and Harry nudged it again. It tiredly peeped its head out of the flap and took in the change of scenery.

"BRVR," Harry began, "This is Hedwig and… er… Ay, what's the bird's name?"

The spirit looked at the creature for a minute before nodding with a decision, "Scath. It means shadow in old Irish."

Harry shrugged, "Okay. BRVR, these are Hedwig and Scath. They'll be joining us at Hogwarts. Hedwig, these are Scath and BRVR. And they're not going to hurt you. Right?"

BRVR eyed the owl, before seeing his new-brother's stern expression. He decided owl wouldn't be on the menu anytime soon. "Pika-chu!"

Harry nodded and turned with the same expression to the shadow bird which just gave a loud 'caw!' in response. Harry took it as a 'yes'.

"Hey, Harry," Nick commented, frowning. "Where's BRVR's pendant thingy. Won't all the magic hurt him?"

The black-haired wizard shook his head, "BRVR's never seemed to be affected by my magical outbursts like BEN or Smile. Slender thinks it's because I used magic when he was brought out into the world, so he's already made of the stuff. We're pretty sure he'll be okay." He gave the pokemon a small pat on the head and it squeaked happily.

BRVR popped his head back into the comfy backpack to resume his cat nap. Just as he did so, the compartment door slid open again without warning and a bushy-haired girl looked in before speaking authoritatively, "Have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost one." She gestured to the boy behind her, awkwardly waving to the occupants.

"Sorry, no." Harry replied.

She was about to close the door when she noticed the dark, shadowy bird glaring at her with ruby-red eyes. "What sort of creature is that?" She asked curiously. "I've read all about magical creatures, but none of the books talk about something like that."

Adrian shrugged, "It's not too well known."

"Well I suspect we'll learn an awful lot more about magic and maybe your bird as well when we arrive at Hogwarts. I've read Hogwarts: A History several times now and they have the largest collection of books available in all of Wizarding Britain." Adrian's eyes sparked with interest, but the girl prattled on without pause, "Of course, I hope to learn more spells than the ones at Diagon Alley. I've tried a few simple ones just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course. I feel like I'll be at such an academic disadvantage, being raised nonmagically. I hope I won't fall too far behind. My name is Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

The occupants of the room (even the avian companions) all blinked, thoroughly stunned, at the steady, continuous stream of words seemingly told without one pause, break for breath, or even coherent thread of topic choice. Even Neville seemed intimidated just from being in the vicinity of the girl's speech.

"Er, I'm Nikolaus Brahms." Nick stated.

"Adrian Thresher."

"I'm Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" Hermione asked interestedly, "I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

Harry fought the smirk, "Really? You know everything about me?"

"Of course, it's all in the history books. How you defeated Voldemort, how you survived the Killing Curse, your secret training, your disappearance from Wizarding Britain, and a lot of theories on where you'd gone." The girl stated.

Harry hummed noncommittally. Secret training? Partially true, but not in the way she probably thought it was. The girl blinked in the ensuing silence before filling it again with nervous chatter, "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

She left without another word, taking the poor boy with her and not even waiting for the answer. Nick huffed in mock exhaustion, "Jeez, where does she keep all that air? I was thinking she'd pass out on the floor in the middle of that montage."

"She's nervous." Adrian stated, "You could tell she was trying to get things off of her mind, but since there's so much to talk about, it all kind of spilled out all at once."

Harry nodded, "So, what houses do you think you'll be in? Professor McGonagall said Gryffindor for the courageous, Hufflepuff for the loyal and hardworking, Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious, and Ravenclaw for the smart."

Nick shrugged, "No clue. They'll decide that at Hogwarts, probably. It sounds like we don't get to really just choose, and is more of an assigned thing."

"I'd like Ravenclaw, then. It sounds interesting." Adrian said, tapping at the book.

"I don't know." Harry admitted, "Gryffindor sounded cool from McGonagall's speech, but it's full of goody-two-shoes "Light" people. Slendy said they didn't look too fondly on murder."

Adrian smirked, "Well, to be fair, not many cultures do."

"Yeah, but here it's considered pretty 'Dark' by automatic assumption that the person who murdered the other is Evil, capital E. There's at least some leeway with human society."

After barely two minutes, the door slid open again without warning. Harry considered that if this was a recurring theme, it might be wise to put a lock of some sort on the door to keep it from sliding open while they're changing. Three boys entered, making the compartment seem a bit cramped.

Flanked by two large boys, the pale-faced boy from Madame Malkin's looked at the trio before addressing Harry specifically, "Is it true? They're saying down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, "How are people saying that already?"

"Some mud- er, muggleborn girl won't stop talking to everyone she finds," the boy drawled. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," He motioned to the two large, intimidating, and slightly grotesque boys at his side. Harry decided after some consideration, they seemed almost like gorillas with a little less hair. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

They glanced between each other before Harry turned and nodded to the boy, "Alright, then."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, seeing the other two, "Hang on, you three were at Madame Malkin's."

A cautious nod. "So, since you're adopted, I'm guessing you're muggleborns then?" He sneered at Nick and Adrian. The two didn't respond, instead, just coldly looking at him. "You'll soon find out that some Wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake. Harry's mouth quirked down, but resumed its impassiveness. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult my brothers."

Malfoy seemed taken aback, "Brothers?! They're mudbloods!" He exclaimed.

Here, their eyes hardened at the seeming insult. Harry spoke again, "They're my foster brothers. We have the same guardian and I'd still appreciate it if you didn't insult them."

Malfoy's face took on a pink tinge. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They-"

"CAW! CAW!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle panicked as the shadowy bird suddenly appeared in front of them and began mercilessly pecking any bit of exposed flesh it could reach. Each time one of the large goons tried swatting at it, the bird phased through their hands and pecked harder. Finally, they stumbled back out of the compartment and started running away, hands over their heads as the bird gave a last few pecks and returned to perching on top of its cage instead of inside.

Adrian grinned, "Good boy, Scath." He stroked the feathers approvingly and the bird let out a happy 'caw' before flying about the cabin and phasing back through the cage bars.

The compartment door slid open unannounced once more. Harry angrily rounded on it, "What now?"

The bushy-haired girl looked affronted for a second before composing herself, "I'm asking questions here. What has been going on? Three boys just ran down the hallway covered in cuts! Fighting this early will get you in trouble before we even get there!"

Adrian smiled calmly, "We didn't fight them. I'm afraid Scath didn't like them much when they barged into our cabin. He seems to be a good judge of character." He raised the caged bird to emphasize who/what he was talking about.

Hermione met the unnerving glare of the dark bird before clearing her throat, "Well, you three had better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there."

"Thank you," Harry said sticking a hand out to block the door before she could close it. "We'll be changing now. Three almost naked boys, just stripping down."

The girl blushed and stammered, "W-wh-why on Earth are you telling me this!" She said, affronted.

"So you'll stop opening doors without knocking!" Harry asserted angrily. Closing the door firmly in her abashed face and, finally finding a latch at the top, locked it to give them some privacy. At Nick and Adrian's bemused snickers, he defended himself, "Well it's true. That's, what, the fifth time this train ride someone's just opened the compartment door. The candy lady and that Neville kid were polite enough to knock and wait for us to open it."

They nodded in agreement and simply started changing into their long, black robes. A voice echoed through the train on a magical PA system announcing they'd be at the station in five minutes and to leave their luggage. Adrian collapsed the birdcage and Scath vanished in smoke as it went off to… wherever those birds go.

They finally reached the station and the multitude of students onboard pushed their way out. The small platform of Hogwarts was dark and narrow, but students kept filing down one line towards a couple of houses.

In the distance, a lamp came bobbing through the darkness, far above the heads of most of the seventh years. It was accompanied by a loud voice shouting, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

They made their way through the throng of people, Harry ducking low to avoid Hagrid's search for him. Hagrid eventually led the group of first years towards a sloping path that was narrow, covered in smoothed stones, and dark. People were slipping and stumbling as they walked around on the pathway. No one spoke, save for Neville softly sniffing over his lost toad.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called back. "Jus' round this bend here."

The path opened to the edge of an enormous lake. The pale moonlight glittered across the surface in a broken reflection. Backlit by the moon was an enormous castle on the other side of the vast lake. It was perched high on top of a mountain, windows sparkling like the stars around it, turrets and towers spiking from it like stalagmites in a cave.

They reached the smoothed-out black stones of the shores where an army of small boats were silently bobbing just at the edge of the water. "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted over the excited 'oohs' and 'ahhs'.

Adrian, Nikolaus, Harry, and a shy-looking girl went into one boat together. The girl didn't say much and was instead drinking in the sight of the castle across the lake. Adrian nudged Harry and mouthed 'stone'. Harry understood and took the white stone out of his pocket.

"Everyone in? Right then, FORWARD!"

The boats jerked and started drifting from shore. Harry quickly threw the stone where it clattered across the rocky shores and settled in the middle of the beach. The lanterns at the front of the boats drifted further and further, making it harder to make out the shore, but Harry could see the stone just barely glow a faint purple.

---

Slenderman appeared in a sudden swirl of black smoke at the edge of a picturesque castle over a lake. He looked around, seeing the white stone blindingly reflecting moonlight amongst the darkly shimmering wet, black stones on the shore. He picked it up with his hand and noted the location in his mind.

He looked out over the lake as several lanterns bobbed in the distance, he could make out tiny figures (and the large figure of that Hagrid man) on the boats attached to the lanterns. Just behind it was the imposing silhouette of Hogwarts, looming over the lake, backlit by the moon.

He walked towards one of the many trees just up against the edge of the lake crouched down. Using his finger, a white point appeared on the end of it like a fingernail and he started engraving into the base of the tree, infusing some Sigma as he went along. In seconds, a permanent Operator Symbol was scorched into the inconspicuous tree.

He looked back at the lake and smirked. He took out another stone from his pocket with a different symbol etched into it and tossed it into the lake. It bubbled where it sank into the water and each white bubble that broke the surface brought a large waft of fog. Soon, the fog began to creep along the lake surface towards the boats.

He vaguely remembered his brother stating 'presentation is everything' and couldn't help but chuckle as he vanished into black smoke as the fog reached the boats.

---

The boats were quietly drifting across the glass-like surface of the lake. Harry, Adrian, and Nick noticed the small chill seeping through their robes and glanced around at the low-hanging fog spreading around them. Whispers started up at the fog's sudden appearance.

Soon, a soft voice drifted across the lake. A high-pitched children's French song was softly echoing over the lake. Some students were smiling, clearly enjoying the spooky atmosphere, purebloods frowned at how their parents never mentioned a ghost like that. Others, were clearly trying their hardest not to wet themselves, such as Neville or the shy girl next to them.

Slender's trio silently smirked at one another, recognizing Sally's lullaby for her dolls. It was haunting, creepy, and seemingly tuneless with pretty dark words (if deciphered from French, the lyrics were about silence, quiet, escape, and arguably a reference to a guillotine execution). Hermione was pale-faced as her years of French class took over and the words made sense to her.

"Heads down!" Hagrid's voice broke the spell and as they approached a wide curtain of dangling ivy, he leaned down so his head wouldn't hit the top of the cavern. He was practically alone since his abnormal height caused the problem of hitting his head.

They drifted through the cavern, escaping the fog's creeping tendrils as they landed on another rocky shore by a stone passageway leading under the castle. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

Neville gleefully took Trevor and put him in his pocket. They walked through the underground passageway until it led upwards to an enormous courtyard just by the largest tower spiring into the midnight sky.

They approached a heavy set of iron doors. Hagrid confirmed they were all there and knocked on the door three times.

The doors opened grandly, showing a large entrance hall with sconces providing flickering light to showcase the entirety of its regal appearance. They approached a set of marble stairs where Professor McGonagall stood, waiting.

Adrian, Harry, and Nick all shifted their eyes behind the stern witch, broad smiles matching the ones in the background.

---

Ron scowled. He'd been forced to sit with his brothers since he couldn't follow through with his mother's advice to find Harry Potter on the train. They even left early so they would have a better chance of finding him after Dumbledore told them he'd likely be lost on Platforms 9 and 10.

He'd guess the unknown boy who was sleeping in the compartment with the foreigner kid might have been the Boy-Who-Lived, but he never found out after he left to keep searching and, in the end, just couldn't really be bothered after the sweets cart came by his brothers' car. After that, it was drowned out in glorious pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes.

The way he figured, it didn't matter. Harry Potter would make his way to Gryffindor (along with himself) and he'd have seven years to talk to him, befriend him, and subsequently become co-head of the Gryffindor hierarchy with him. What's a couple hours on the first train ride compared to that?

They made it across the lake to the impressive entrance hall where that enormous man, Hagrid, led them to the marble steps up to the Great Hall. A stern-faced witch in emerald green robes stood at the base, watching them like a hawk. Behind her was an enormous group of people.

The smallest one, a girl in a pink dress, was excitedly waving to somebody in the crowd, but he couldn't see exactly who.

There were four older boys, maybe 15 to 17 years old. One was wearing black, muggle sunglasses despite it being night with some really stupid-looking cane in his hand that didn't look strong enough to lean on. Another had a huge black and white dog on a lead sitting next to him. Another wore some weird white, paper mask over his mouth and nose.

The last guy, though, looked ridiculous! Mum would've had a fit if she saw him. His face was covered in white makeup with solid, black eyeshadow, black lipstick, and shaggy, greasy hair that she'd probably have a Scorgify on before she even realized it was hair. He wore a black and white patterned jacket with metal bits and bobs hanging from black trousers. He also had the same impish grin that the Twins wore all the time.

Next to the girl was another kid, a little younger than themselves. He wore a gray jacket with a green knit cap and was anxiously looking around at the group, silently bouncing on his heels in place.

At the head was a really tall bloke! Besides Hagrid, he'd never seen someone that tall in the Wizarding world. The guy looked really young, too, but had the same white hair as his ancient great-uncle Tiberius.

Hagrid seemed to just focus on McGonagall, "Er, Firs' years, Professor." He said, still occasionally casting glances at the strangers.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She replied evenly. She started talking and talking and talking about the banquet (which was one of the few words he really took in), the houses, the house cup, and something about freshening up. Honestly, he already knew he'd be going to Gryffindor. Why bother listening in on that lecture.

McGonagall turned to leave for the Great Hall behind them and (though she'd deny it to her dying day if anyone ever asked) gave a loud shriek at the sight of the strangers behind her. "Mr. Lindermann! H-how? I mean, what are you doing here?"

"I have permission from Professor Dumbledore," The tall bloke responded calmly in an American accent.

The stern Professor quickly composed herself, her cheeks lightly dusted with pink as she held her head high and strode out of the room, but turned back, "Mr. Lindermann, if you'd prefer, only the first years are meant to enter the Great Hall together. Would you and your wards like to follow me?"

The man nodded with thanks and motioned for his large group to follow, the one with the cane tapping it rhythmically in front of him. The man gave a brief, small smile and a barely perceptible nod to someone in the crowd. This time, Ron searched for the foreigner kid with another American accent. He found him with the other boy in the train car-

-and Harry Potter!

Green eyes, messy black hair, and he could barely see a scar through the bangs if he squinted hard enough. Just like his sister's storybooks! He was sorely tempted to barrel through the smaller first years to get through to Potter, but the famous boy wizard seemed to be talking quietly to the two foreigners.

What in Merlin's name is he doing? Associating with those types! Then again, he considered, the stories always said he'd traveled the world. Maybe they were friends from some as-of-yet-unpublished adventure in America.

Either way, it didn't matter. Harry Potter was here at Hogwarts.

And he was going to be his friend.

---

The trio waited patiently in the entrance hall uninterrupted by the others. There was one moment where several ghosts phased through the wall and addressed the students. The friar's ghost smiled at them all, but seemed to hesitate at Nick and Adrian. Almost like he could tell something was off about them.

Still, the group of phantoms was shooed away by McGonagall as she entered the room again. "We're ready for you. Follow me."

They formed a single line and walked through the enormous, oak doors into an incredible space. Thousands of wax candles were floating in mid air above the tables, basking the whole room in light from the lower spaces to the highest rafters.

Though, the rafters seemed to simply vanish and opened into a large, starry expanse mirroring the diamond-studded velvet outside. It even had a few clouds drifting across. They overheard the Hermione girl whisper excitedly to a (slightly annoyed) Indian girl that the roof was charmed to look like the outside and wasn't actually the sky.

There were four long tables filled with students about 12 to 18. Above each table was a banner with a distinct crest and color pattern; a blue and bronze eagle, a yellow and black badger, a red and gold lion, and a green and silver snake. The students had ties, scarves, and small details on their robes signifying their house.

Slenderman and his wards were waiting at the edge of the hallway, looking around with interest. A few students kept glancing over at them curiously, but McGonagall and the first year entourage seemed to captivate most of the attention.

They were led to a stool sitting in the middle of a podium just in front of the large head table overlooking everything. Harry noted in the exact center, in-line with the stool was a much more ornate throne with an ancient man sitting in it. His first impression was that this was Merlin and he'd somehow kept living past King Arthur's story to teach here, but a more probable name popped to mind a moment later.

Albus Dumbledore.

The Headmaster would, naturally, have the head spot on the table (and probably the comfiest seat). The man had a white beard down to his waist, a pointed hat that was the same ludicrous purple and with gold stars and planets as his robes, and golden wire spectacles. All-in-all, an almost exact replica of what would be expected of King Arthur's court wizard. A glance at Slender let him catch the disguised entity nervously watching the man and shifting himself between the aged wizard and his wards, protectively.

McGonagall returned to the stool with a ratty, old wizard's hat. It was frayed, dirty, and old and completely unremarkable save for how old it must've been.

That is, until a tear by the brim of the hat opened and the hat started singing.

If you want to read the canon sorting song,

I didn't type it out because it's way too long.

Find it on Google or read it from the book.

Because I'm busy writing and cannot spare a look.

And don't think that I'm lazy or any other deal,

I've read too many fanfics to type the same old spiel.

-Crow

The audience clapped politely as the hat resumed its neutral state. When the applause died down, Professor McGonagall took her spot by the stool and held up the Sorting Hat. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She checked the long roll of parchment in her hand before calling out, "Abbott, Hannah!"

The hat sat on her head for a moment before shouting out 'HUFFLEPUFF!'. The girl stood up from the seat and walked over to the yellow and black table applauding her. Then, 'Bones, Susan' went to Hufflepuff as well with 'Boot, Terry' going to Ravenclaw.

"Brahms, Nikolaus!"

Nick blanched at his name being called so soon. Why, oh why couldn't he have picked a good "M" name when he met Slender? Why Brahm? He sat down on the stool and the hall went dark as the hat was put over his eyes.

'My, oh my. What have we here?' A voice chuckled in his ear. He stiffened nervously as the voice continued, 'Don't be alarmed, I won't divulge your secrets, your friends', or your guardian's. Still, practically an Inferi with a few, shall we say, 'creepy, crawly extra passengers'? Hmm?

'You're definitely not ambitious enough for Slytherin. While you've demonstrated some courage in the past, I'm afraid it won't be enough for Gryffindor's standards. A good mind, but no real thirst for knowledge. Hmmm, though you are a remarkable friend. Very loyal to Mr. Potter and Mr. Thresher, even going as far as that rather painful procedure I see you underwent. I will look forward to sorting them as well in the near future.

'As for you, I believe your place is in- HUFFLEPUFF!'

The crowd in yellow and black applauded as the hat was taken off of the undead boy and he made his way to the nearest open seat by 'Bones, Susan'.

The sorting continued through B and narrowed down slowly towards P.

"Moon, Lily"

"Nott, Theodore"

"Parkinson, Pansy"

"Patil, Padma"

"Patil, Pavarti"

"Perks, Sally-Anne"

Harry's mouth got dry as the P section seemed abnormally long compared to the others. It just felt like it was drawing this out unnecessarily. He got a lurch in his stomach as practically everyone at the head table seemed to lean in anxiously for the next name. Knowing his luck-

"Potter, Harry."

Yep.

As he snuck his way forward through the crowd, he heard whispers all around them like wildfire, repeating his name incredulously and some even craning upwards to catch a glimpse of him. Eventually, he made it to the front and had to continue walking forward, leaving the safety of the collective of students and being singled out. He felt every eye suddenly train on him unnervingly.

He sat down at the stool and entered the dark void the hat provided.

'Hello, Mr. Potter,' A voice whispered in his ear, 'What a remarkable mind you have.'

'Yeah, well, don't go poking around too much.'

'Oh stop it; it's the thing's job… his… job? Her job?'

'It's a hat. I doubt the seamstress stitched on the 'bits' necessary to distinguish that.'

'Will you lot just SHUT UP! You're not helping!' Harry mentally shouted.

…

…

'And a bit of a fractured mind as well,' the hat voiced, 'by the by, I consider myself male from my voice. Now, on to the Sorting.

Harry felt like something was poking around in his brain. Not painfully, more like someone in a museum glancing at the displays and dioramas through glass without touching, disturbing, or really doing anything besides walk down the hallway and observe. At length, the hat spoke again.

'You are a loyal friend, there is no doubt, and you are firmly dedicated towards your family, but you would cause the Hufflepuffs to soil themselves regularly with your ideas and… personalities.'

'You're damn right we would!'

'Shut up, please!' Harry mentally berated them.

'From your rather limited interactions with Mr. Malfoy, I doubt you'd do well in Slytherin. You'd likely eviscerate the entire house before Thursday, particularly if you consider your fellow wards brothers and sisters. They may not take too kindly to that.

'Additionally, you have no true ambitions in life nor 'cunning'. Looking at your… electrifying "resume" you seem to "wing it" like your brother Jeffery, instead of carefully planning your method of attack like Slenderman or Jack… the eyeless one, not the psychotic clown. He falls in the former.'

'I figured.' Harry nodded.

'Now… Gryffindor. You've got plenty of courage to have accepted the hand of a faceless entity at age 7. Additionally, you have a quest! Oh, Godric would have begged to have someone with a Life Quest in mind in his house. So few do these days and your determination to help Balance the world is a rather noble one as well.

'However, I see that you take a Grayer stance on actions and the world. Gryffindor is rather Light-minded with very little room for deviation. So you would undoubtedly clash ideologies within the first week.

'Now, for Ravenclaw… hmmm… you certainly have an enquiring mind. You assisted Eyeless Jack multiple times in his laboratory… Hahaha! I just saw the memory of you dissecting your first cadaver!'

Harry blushed at the reminder. He'd done a sloppy job of removing the cranium to the cadaver and the brain slid right out, snapped the brain stem and he'd stepped right on it, slipping head over heels and landing in a puddle of brain juice and squished gray matter.

'Additionally, Ravenclaws are an intellectual bunch and are more open to different ideas than their own. They would certainly be more open-minded about your Gray methods and agenda. You may even find a few like-minded individuals to make your stay more pleasant.

'Yes, I believe you'd do well in- RAVENCLAW!"

The world exploded back into light as Harry had to blink rapidly to adjust his eyes from the dark void. The hall was in a slightly stunned silence until the blue and bronze house clapped happily with the red and gold house looking between him and the hat confusedly. He heard a few mutinous mutterings as well.

Glancing up at the head table, he saw many teachers surprised and Dumbledore rather irritated and confused. He kept going and seated himself a spot or two away from the other first years, but they scooted over and began introducing themselves animatedly. Soon he was bombarded with questions about where he was, how he killed You-Know-Who, how he did all the stuff some book franchise said he'd done, etc.

Eventually he stopped listening and just kept his mouth shut in the face of the torrent of questions. McGonagall made a sound like a firecracker blast from her wand and regained order over the inquisitive house before continuing.

Harry ignored the anxious looks he kept getting as the sorting ceremony continued. Finally, they made it to T.

"Thresher, Adrian."

The dark-haired boy made his way up to the podium and sat underneath the hat.

'Ah, hello at last, Mr. Thresher.' The voice said calmly, 'Let's see, here. Oh, very straightforward. Brave, but not recklessly so. Loyal, but not your most defining feature. Cunning, but not to the extent of ambition. And, of course, an insatiable curiosity for everything. A Ravenclaw if ever I saw one.

'Though, I'm afraid I can't answer any of your questions, Mr. Thresher. Only wish you luck in finding answers. But, I will say that you have a strong thirst for knowledge… you always have.'

'What does that mean?' Adrian asked curiously.

'I can't say. That's as much as I can tell you. Your Life is your own.'

'Are you saying you can see my memories?! The ones I've forgotten?!' Adrian straightened on the stool, 'Please, tell me!'

'I can't, Mr. Thresher. It's not yet time.'

'Like Hell! It's been a year and I'm still no closer to knowing! When will it be time?' Adrian thought desperately.

'I cannot say.'

'Tell me or I'll burn you like a ragdoll,' the amnesiac threatened.

In response, the hat just chuckled, 'Mr. Thresher, I receive threats on a regular basis. 'Send me to this house or I'll tear you apart here and now', 'send that boy here so we'll be best friends forever or I'll infest you with lice'. I can tell you not one such attempt has ever worked.'

The boy under the hat slumped defeated and the hat allowed a twinge of sympathy for the boy's plight, 'I will tell you this, though.' Adrian raised his head to listen, 'The memories are not erased or gone. You still have full access to them.'

'No I don't. I haven't been able to remember any of them even during meditations.' He argued.

The hat seemed to sadden just a bit, 'There is a difference between forgetting and subconsciously choosing not to remember… RAVENCLAW!'

The hat was removed from his head and he slowly stood up and walked to a spot next to Harry. He cast one more look at the hat and the tip seemed to nod silently to him before sorting the next student.

The sorting continued onwards ending with 'Zabini, Blaise' in Slytherin before Dumbledore stood. "Now, before I begin announcements, I'd like to address Mr. Lindermann," He gestured to the tall, white-haired man, "and his family who have stayed for the sorting of three of their wards. If you would, you may sit at any of the tables to partake in our feast."

Slender nodded politely and the group split apart towards different tables. But, the Slytherin table was rather vocal that they didn't want to host them, so they all chose to avoid that table like the plague. Slender sat at Gryffindor, figuring it would be good to scope out at least one of the houses his wards weren't in. Laughing Jack and Jeffery (still holding on to Smile) joined him at the Lion's table. Eyeless Jack and Toby chose to sit over by Harry and Adrian at Ravenclaw. Finally, Sally and BEN joined Nick at Hufflepuff, figuring it sounded like the nicer house of the four.

Dumbledore continued standing until the guests had seated themselves before opening his arms wide, "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat down to applause and cheers of the students and slightly amused/exasperated clapping from the other professors at the Head Table. Then, food suddenly appeared in front of everyone present. Harry was amazed at the entire variety of meat dishes, potatoes, vegetables, and miscellaneous that traveled the length of the table.

He glanced around the table and already saw people were talking to his family.

---

At Hufflepuff

"Aren't you two just such cuties!" Squealed a seventh year Hufflepuff. Sally complied with her 'adorable' face and a polite 'thank you'. BEN, inadvertently, amplified his cuteness by huffing and muttering that he wasn't 'cute'.

As the girls were squealing over the two, Nick was talking to Susan Bones and her friend Hannah Abbot. "So, you're family adopted Harry Potter?"

He nodded, "Yeah, although they did it before I got there. I've only been around for a year before I got the Letter. Harry's been with Mr. Lindermann for years."

"How many people are in your family?" Hannah asked, curious.

Nick looked up in thought, "Well, there's Jeff, LJ, EJ, Toby, Sally, Ben, Harry, Adrian, and me. Then, there're a lot of guests who come in and out and are more like tenants than family. Except for Rak- I mean, Raaaa-kesh! That's a name! Rakesh, he's more of a freeloader."

Susan snickered at the odd comment, but nodded, "Wow, that's a big family."

The wizard shrugged, "It's alright. I mean, we've got our own rooms, so that's pretty neat. I've got an entire bug collection in mine back home!" He said proudly.

Hannah paled, "B-bugs?"

"Yep," He said happily, "I've got centipedes, scorpions, black widow spiders, wolf spiders, slugs, beetles, worms, grubs-"

"Ew! Ewewewewew!" Hannah exclaimed, brushing herself like they were all over her. "How can you stand those things!? They're so gross!"

"Hey, they're awesome! Did you know the praying mantis has only one ear and can swivel its head 360 degrees?" Nick quipped. Hannah shuddered.

"Oh, please stop."

Susan was laughing at her childhood friend's discomfort, "Sorry, Hannah, but you're probably going to have to get over that fear on our first Herbology class. We'll be digging around with worms and beetles and aphids-"

"No. Not you too! Noooooo!" Hannah wailed quietly. Nick and Susan snickered as her head despairingly made contact with the tabletop.

---

At Ravenclaw

"So, you're Harry Potter?"

"Where've you been?"

"Do you know any rare spells?"

"Want some peas, Harry? You can have mine."

"How did you manage to stop the Tasmanian Harpies?"

"Aurgh!" said boy growled frustratingly, "Yes! Don't ask! No! No! I don't know! Please stop asking questions all at once or this will be a very annoying meal."

The inquisitive minds of Ravenclaw weren't known for their social skills, but could tell enough when to back off. They began asking small questions, getting terse "Yes", "No", "I don't know", or "don't ask me that" answers without any elaboration they'd hoped for. After a while, it became apparent that they wouldn't be getting any answers this meal.

They resolved to acquire information slowly, instead.

Finally, one third year pureblood turned to the family of Harry Potter and spoke to EJ, intent on information-seeking, "Excuse me, but why are you wearing those dark glasses? Isn't it hard to see?"

He gave a wry smile in her general direction as several muggleborns either snorted or facepalmed in embarrassment. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, why don't you take them off?" She demanded curiosity peaked.

He shrugged, "Most prefer it if I wear them."

"Why?" She persisted, ducking around in an attempt to catch a glimpse beneath the glasses. At this point, several students were affronted or wincing in empathetic embarrassment. "It's so muggle of you to wear something like that. Is it one of your odd fashion statements or something equally as ridiculous?"

EJ simply raised an eyebrow and took off the glasses. The Ravenclaw jerked back in mild horror as she found foggy, blue eyes staring vacantly into her own with unnerving precision.

"I'm blind." He said simply, waving a hand in front of his glassy eyes for emphasis. She felt her face become hot with a furious blush of embarrassment and she began stammering out apologies. Instead, EJ simply put the glasses back over his eyes and returned to his plate.

The situation left an awkward tension around the table, which some muggleborn and halfbloods tried to diffuse; helping to describe some of the dishes to him and holding some out for him to try or even helping to serve some to his plate.

At length, a different raven cautiously asked Toby, "Why were you wearing that paper mask?"

"Cleanliness," He replied. He'd lowered the surgical mask to around his neck as he allowed his glamour to cover the cheek and started eating. He still tilted his head a bit to the side, but it passed off as pretty normal. "I'm usually sick or get sick pretty easily, so I wear that to keep germs off."

"Germs?" A pureblood asked. EJ broke his earlier moodiness by excitedly starting a lecture on the history and biology of pathogens and viruses. Harry and Adrian were genuinely surprised as the Ravenclaws not only didn't fall asleep, but were actively listening, some even writing what he said down on parchment and asking questions.

As he spoke, no one noticed him "accidentally" scratching the hand of a boy passing him a plate of potatoes. He apologized, saying he should file down his nails, as he discretely hid his hands below the table and tucked a small, metal object with a spot of blood on the end in a sample bag.

---

At Gryffindor

Slender was honestly ready to call it quits and walk out. Dumbledore and the End-of-the-World be damned.

He'd turned his head from Dumbledore's ludicrous "speech" when he and his wards were bombarded from all around with questions.

"You adopted Harry Potter?"

"Where's he been?"

"Is he coming back to save us?"

"Why are you wearing make-up?"

"Why is your hair white?"

"Is everyone here your kid?"

"Why do you have a dog with you?"

"Is Harry Potter single?"

"Enough!" He growled, putting a little emphasis of Sigma into it for good measure. He successfully quelled the inane questions. He pinched his nose (again wondering if sinuses would ever help make that more effective) and sighed, "I will answer a few questions one at a time."

The final few words, stopped another torrent of questions his way. A redheaded boy with his cheeks grotesquely stuffed with chicken spoke (resulting in Slender quickly raising his napkin in front of his plate as a barrier from chicken bits, not that the boy noticed), "Jus' what did you do to 'arry Potter?" Ugh, Slender shivered, The 'P's are the worst. "Firs' he's off he's not around for four years. Next, he's a Ravenclaw! The Boy Who Lived, a Ravenclaw! E'rybody knows 'e's a Gryffindor."

By now, many people had taken up Slender's idea and the boy was blocked in with napkins facing his direction, shielding their food from the disgusting rain of half-chewed meat.

Then, the unthinkable!

A large glob of chicken flew a bit further from his mouth on the 'Gryff' part of his speech and landed right on the lapel of Slenderman.

The students stared wide-eyed at the white bit stuck to the black fabric. LJ and Jeff stared at Slender, himself, half expecting black tentacles to erupt suddenly from his back and very messily reduce the slob to a quivering mass of flesh and guts.

Instead, Slender took a very deep breath. Flicked the chicken bit off of his suit and to the floor. He addressed the boy in front of him with a leveled stare, "I don't know why he would be in Ravenclaw. Nor do I know why he 'should be' in Gryffindor. But I can tell you that I have no control over what your magic hat decides. Now chew with your mouth closed."

Most people remembered their mother admonishing the same way, but with more of an exasperated sighing kind-of-way. This man's version resembled something along the lines of 'chew with your mouth closed or I will find a sewing kit and stitch your mouth closed for you'… and mean it. Still, it did the trick; the redhead fearfully clamped his mouth shut and swallowed.

Slender took out a handkerchief from inside his pocket and wiped the remnants off as two other redheads spoke up, "Don't mind him." Said Twin 1.

"He's just sore-" Said Twin 2.

"-we don't have Potter."

"And you're not?" Slender enquired, eyebrow raised. The twins shook their heads in uniform response.

"Yeah, we're a bit-"

"-disappointed he's not-"

"-in Gryffindor like-"

"-everyone expects, but-"

"-we like a good joke."

"And love a surprise."

"The Boy Who Lived, Ravenclaw, is a pretty good one," They agreed in sync.

"I like them," Laughing Jack said gleefully. The duo turned to him wide-eyed.

"Woah! Mate, why-"

"-are you wearing"

"-make up?"

"Not that it's bad-"

"-it's just odd."

"Again, not in the bad way." They finished together

Jack pretended to look affronted, "Why, do my ears deceive me? Is there someone who hasn't heard of the magnificent, awe-inspiring, and rich history and culture of the Juggalo?"

"Juggalo? What's that?" Another person asked.

"No idea! I just know they paint their faces like clowns! Ahahahaha!" He cackled, clutching his sides. The twins were joining him shortly after. He held out both hands toward the twins, crossed, "Name's Landon Jack, call me LJ or Jack."

The twins each took one of his hands and used the other to shake the other Twin's hand. "I'm Fred, he's George."

"That's rubbish, I'm Fred, he's George."

"I'm Gred."

"He's Forge."

The rest was lost to laughter as they continued introducing themselves, crossing, uncrossing and shaking each other's hands ridiculously, sometimes two grabbing both hands and leaving one to shake his own hands together before they swapped again. A frizzy-haired girl with rather large teeth huffed at the display and turned towards Jeff, "You really shouldn't have a dog here. What if someone's allergic?"

"Oh, don't worry, Smile's pretty hypoallergenic." Jeff reached down to pet the canine's head while also sending down a small plate of bacon, ham, and a couple ribs. The dog munched happily on the feast.

The girl didn't seem convinced, "It's still unclean to have an animal at the table."

"So? That kid's got a rat in his pocket," Jeff pointed a fork at the earlier redhead, who was feeding a bit of ham to a rat sticking it's head out of his coat pocket. The girl shrieked and started berating him for brining that 'filthy vermin to the table'.

Slender couldn't help but agree with her even though she was rather shrill about it. Jeff turned to look at the Slytherin table and did a double-take, grimacing, "Yeesh, what's up with them?"

"With who?" An older student asked. Jeff side-nodded his head towards the Green-and-Silver table. "Those people. A lot of them look like inbred hillbillies, gorillas, or both."

"Oh, that's the Slytherin table." The boy replied, "They're a load of 'Purebloods' and don't look too kindly on anyone else. Even half-bloods get a hard time from them."

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that whole 'Pureblooded' thing. What's that got to do with them?" Jeff asked. Slender quickly put two and two together and became rather nauseated, hoping his theory was not correct.

"Well… die-hard pureblood families never allow their children to marry someone of 'lower birth', but since that pool is dwindling and more families are either mixing, dying off, or the pureblood family really don't want their children marrying someone who looks like that, they… uh…" He leaned in close to them, "They've got a nasty habit of marrying their own first cousins."

Jeff choked on a bite of beef as the student continued, pointing to a scowling, slack-jawed 6th year Slytherin with a misshapen head. "Rumor has it; Kornswall's mother is either his father's sister or his daughter from the previous marriage."

The guests made it a point to do everything in their power to not look in the direction of the Slytherin table. A Fourth year girl spoke from down the table, "Well, yeah, but I mean a lot of people do it without realizing. Like Parker and Storks? They're dating though they're technically third cousins."

"Well, that's actually legal." The boy retorted.

Jeff grimaced, "Great, so Hogwarts is kinda like one, big, creepy incestuous family reunion." Many purebloods frowned, but couldn't argue while many more around them openly laughed.

The frizzy-haired girl finished her tirade against the poor redheaded boy, who promised to keep his rat in the dorm (Slender was even happier, now, that none of his wards wound up in this house to share the room with a rat), and took notice of the "Juggalo" boy, piling his plate with sugared ham, sweet meats, peppermints, pudding, and even various candies he kept pulling seemingly endlessly from his pockets. She openly gawked as he pulled out a bottle of chocolate sauce from his hoodie pocket and doused the whole concoction in it, practically emptying the bottle.

She sat in stunned horror as he took a chunk out and shoved it all in his mouth. "That's horrific!" She screeched.

The sweet-toothed "teen" sent her an annoyed eyebrow raise, she continued without prompting, "That much sugar will rot your teeth straight out of your head. I should know, my parents are dentists and regularly deal with cavities and gingivitis from people like you with abominable addictions to sugar."

He shrugged, "It's okay with me. My teeth are perfectly fine. See?" He pulled back his cheek and showed her his miraculously still pearly-white teeth that glinted at the points-

Hermione blinked.

The teeth were normal, but for just a second, she could have sworn there were razor sharp spikes in his mouth.

"Hello!" A cheery voice echoed from down the table, "New students, I see! And guests! We've never actually had guests before!"

A man with a ruffled neck floated down the table towards them, smiling and nodding as he drifted past. He addressed Slenderman with a half bow, "Hello, good sir, my name is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, Gryffindor's resident ghost."

Slenderman was about to make an equally-courteous reply when the boorish redhead spoke, "Hey, I know you! You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

The ghost huffed, "I prefer Sir Ni-"

"Nearly Headless?" An Irish boy asked incredulously. "How can someone be 'Nearly Headless'?"

"Like this." The man said irritably. He pulled on his ear and his head swung to the side, a transparent thread of flesh joining his head and body. He gave a satisfied 'hmph' at the stunned looks on the student's faces, but was surprised by the guests' impassive eyebrow raise (Slender) or grinning fascination. "Cool," Jeff said, staring at the mess of a trachea and vocal chords exposed.

The ghostly Nick popped his head back on as Slender spoke, "Well, prior to the interruption, my name is Solomon Lindermann. It's nice to meet you, Sir Nicholas."

"And it's very nice to meet you, as well." The Gryffindor ghost agreed whole-heartedly. No one had addressed him so politely in almost two centuries.

"In regards to your… circumstance," Slender said delicately, "I believe I know a good Dullahan who specializes in 'Post-Mortem decapitation' if you're interested."

Nicholas's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? A Dullahan would fully decapitate me? Oh, that would be marvelous! I could finally stick it to those rascals at the Headless Hunt!"

Slender nodded, "I'll contact Ms. Sturluson about it and see when she can visit."

The ghost nodded happily and drifted off, humming a death march merrily.

---

Up at the head table, Dumbledore made eye contact with Snape, telling him to try the pea soup tonight and that it was marvelous. The potions master didn't miss the glint in the Headmaster's eyes. They had spoken earlier in his office regarding this plan. Snape knew the old codger wanted him to start.

A passive examination from a skilled Legilimens wouldn't cause pain like wand-based Legilimency nor would it provide firm memories; more like a general mental construct and projection of the individual. Dumbledore proposed it would be too abrupt to try something too risky, so he instructed Snape to only perform a passive search.

Snape looked over at the Ravenclaw table. There was Potter's wretched spawn sitting there, quietly answering the steady stream of questions with an annoyed look on his face. The fact that a Potter went anywhere but Gryffindor was practically unheard of, but seeing Lily's eyes on the face of James Potter… didn't make things any easier.

Still, the boy wouldn't look up at them, too engrossed in his conversation. The young man with the sunglasses would be impossible to read, even if they made eye-contact through the dark glass. He got his chance when the odd boy in the surgical mask started looking up at the ceiling and lolled his head around to take in the sights.

His eyes finally started wandering down towards the Head Table.

Their eyes met-

---

Screaming.

That was what Severus first noticed when he arrived. There was so much screaming and the loud crackling of a bonfire. He was facing a road that seemed to go on forever with a dense pine forest on either side.

Around him, there was screaming echoing from within the woods and voices whispering "All your fault", "Distracted her", "Would… seen… truck", "Wou-.. seen… light" just above the threshold of hearing.

On one side was a normal forest scene at night.

On the other was a forest blazing with fire. Smoke from the flames billowed into the cloudy sky, obliterating the starry expanse that showed on the other half of the road. A muggle automobile was driven into a ditch on the hellish side, flames roaring from the broken windows. He could barely make out the shadow of a figure lying in the front seat-

*hic*

He spun around and was faced with something else. The fiery forest was still there on his right, but the road had vanished and the other side had the peaceful forest meld into the walls and ceiling of a teenaged boy's room. Nothing abnormal about it; a few posters of muggle rock bands, a desk clean of anything, a dresser, a bed, but a teenaged figure huddled on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably, looking absolutely terrified.

On the right side was the burning forest with a second figure. Odd muggle stoplights, twisted and blinking the red and green lights were surreally embedded in the tree trunks like demented branches while headlights seemed to be glaring from deep within the darkness in the woods. In the middle of the fiery chaos was another figure, seemingly the same as the crying teenager. This one wore a hooded jacket and sweater. Yellow-tinted goggles obscured his eyes and his lower face was covered by a mask giving the unnerving impression of grinning.

His hands held two bloodied hatchets. It was then that he noticed the blood flecks on his arms and clothes.

Both figures suddenly looked right at him without warning.

The teenager's eyes widened in horror.

The psychopath cackled with glee.

The boy pulled his arm back.

A hatchet twirled straight towards his fac-

---

Snape was jolted out of the mind of the boy as he continued his wandering gaze across the massive Hall, completely oblivious to the events inside his own mindscape.

He took a small sip of his water goblet. It had never existed, but he could practically smell the smoke from the flames and the iron from the blood on the weapon just before it would have split his skull.

Still, the boy seemed absolutely… normal.

The experienced Occlumens barely suppressed the shudder.

He looked at Dumbledore who nodded, seeing he'd gathered some information and began scoping out the Gryffindor Table for someone, anyone to make eye contact with.

His chance came when the boy in the white hooded jacket happened to glance up.

Young crystal blue eyes briefly met with aged cornflower blue-

---

Fire.

Dumbledore found himself inside a dark, white room that was burning. He'd visited Saint Mungo's enough to recognize a hospital room, even with not visiting a muggle's version. He recognized the sterile environment and the bed curtains currently in an everlasting blaze, never burning.

His eyes were drawn immediately to a figure in the lone bed of the room. The entire figure was only illuminated by the flames around him, but he could still see everything. The boy in the bed was wearing the traditional, blue-white hospital gown with his lower half obscured by the sheets A muggle IV stand holding a bag of viscous black fluid was next to him with the long tube snaking its way to the embedded part in the crook of his arm.

The rest of his arm aside from where the needle went in was completely covered in white gauze and bandages. Every patch of skin that could've been visible was under a layer of wrapped cloth. He'd be willing to bet his legs and torso were as well underneath the sheets and gown.

His entire head was completely wrapped in white bandages, only a few tufts of char black hair peeking out through the gaps. There was a separation in the bandages just above his nose indentation.

Cold, piercing gray eyes glared between the bandages straight at him.

Suddenly, the bandages below his nose started tearing and a gaping mouth ripped through the gauze.

"GET OUT!"

He felt himself being thrown backwards like he was blasted off of his feet by a hex. Confusing images danced in front of his eyes.

Pain

Fire

Skin burning

Chemicals

A bloody sink

A razor

A mirror

"I AM BEAUTIFUL"

Gray Eyes

---

Dumbledore started, shaken by the experience of those hateful gray eyes glaring at him. He couldn't help but note the significant difference between the cold gray and the crystal blue now directing their gaze in a different direction.

He quickly schooled himself before nodding quietly to Snape.

The potions master sighed. He couldn't handle another vision like that odd boy's. Even in the demented Occlumency teachings of the Death Eaters had he ever encountered something so twisted as being someone's mental projection.

He glanced at the Hufflepuff table and saw his chance when the odd, young boy was looking up at the Head table, directed by an older student's finger clearly pointing out the names of each professor.

He waited as the boy made his way down the line of Professors.

Ocean blue met beetle black-

---

He arrived in a sea of confusion.

All around him were strings of green, floating digits consisting of an almost infinite stream of 1s and 0s in no particular order. He knew it had to do with muggle computers, but he'd never looked much beyond that. Though, he recognized the faint hiss, crackle, and whine of muggle dial-up "Internet" from the 1990s echoing in the background.

Unlike his colleagues, he stayed relatively in-touch with the continuing progress of muggle technology and took an adult course in basic computer usage at the local library by his home at Spinner's End one summer seeing the strong, increasing trend of the device in muggle society.

Though, he didn't recognize odd phrases like 'cin' and 'cout' and 'jpg' that drifted through the black void. It was all a mess of junk and confusion. His mental avatar snorted to itself. One of those Millennial children, he supposed. Obsessed with technology to the point where their thought patterns are practically computer code.

He looked around, not seeing anything worth noting. Not even the boy's personal mental projection. Even if he looked around for memories or some such, it was too confusing to decipher.

He readied himself to leave-

When he saw the floor.

It wasn't just a black expanse as he initially thought, but a lake surface. The black water rippled slightly around his feet, but shimmered with depth.

As he peered into the abyss, he saw a small flicker of something odd beneath the water. Curiosity got to him and he knelt down and let his face sink below the rippled surface.

It was green-gray water, but clearer than any lake he'd ever seen. Beneath the watery floor was a lone figure, only 10 years old at most, floating in the nothingness. Blonde hair drifted with a nonexistent current like seaweed in the tide.

The boy was facing away from him.

*Hulp!*

He choked, seeing air bubbles erupt from his mouth.

He was overwhelmed by the sudden and inescapable urge to breathe! It made no sense, his mental avatar didn't need to breathe; air didn't exist here!

He tried pulling his head back, but found it stuck beneath the lake's glassy surface. Suddenly, he felt the surface beneath his hands and knees give out and he plunged into the icy water. He scrambled and reached the surface again, but found it was suddenly solid, like knocking on kinetic glass, rippling like waves.

The urge to breathe was unbearable. Agony, fear, panic, all emotions that he'd been trained to withstand suddenly threatened to break his mind.

He had to escape!

He had to!

---

He came to.

*cough!*

*sputter*

He took sudden, but quiet gulps of air as water spilt out of his mouth into the goblet in his hand. Minerva looked over to him. "Severus, are you alright? Did you choke on your drink?"

He nodded, red-faced as he continued to sputter water. Still, the taste lingered in his mouth. Undeniable and unmistakable.

Salt.

Salt water.

Sea water.

He started to swallow, trying to remove the sudden lump in his throat. He gagged silently on something. He discretely put two fingers by his gums and pulled out a long fiber of seaweed, the length threatening to go down his esophagus.

He ignored McGonagall's quizzical look and put the slimy plant on the side of his plate and started eating a meager portion of the feast before him.

His extensive Occlumency training barely held his hands steady.

---

Dumbledore looked at Snape, but found he was eating and trying his hardest to not look the headmaster in the eyes. Dumbledore's sharp observational skills noted a small bit of sweat on his forehead just beneath the curtain of greasy, black hair and his normally pale pallor was even paler. Something had spooked the notorious dungeon bat of Hogwarts.

He settled back into his chair and found Mr. Lindermann looking up at him. Black eyes boring into blue.

He looked back into them-

---

White… no, gray?

He found himself in a misty void. There was barren, gray/brown dirt below him, but everything around him was shrouded in a white fog. He could barely make out gnarled, black outlines of trees, just grayed silhouettes in the white.

And snow.

There had been some kind of snow obscuring everything around him accompanied by a loud scratching, hissing noise just behind his ears. It was difficult to describe, even feeling it himself. It felt beyond the five senses, like something more primal, basic, and laden with fear.

Chuckling.

He whirled around in the mist and found no one, just empty space. Another bout of laughter echoed to his side. He spun in place, trying to find the source and eventually stopped, hearing it echo from all about his mental avatar.

"Albus Dumbledore."

The laughter vanished into oppressive silence. He turned his head towards the sound again and found a tall silhouette in the fog. Nothing else could be distinguished of the figure, but the voice was Solomon Lindermann's.

"It is neither polite nor wise to enter a stranger's mind, Albus. Let this be a warning."

---

Dumbledore found himself suddenly back in his chair. He suddenly put his hand up to his head, trying to quell the blinding headache just behind his eyes. His ears were filled with a loud ringing that almost drowned out the muffled voice of Minerva.

"Albus, are you alright?" She whispered urgently.

He nodded absentmindedly, the headache beginning to go away. "Albus, you're bleeding!"

He felt a small trickle just above his upper lip and put his fingers up to it to find a dot of blood on the tip. He raised a shaking hand to his hair and was surprised when a tuft of long, white hairs came out between his fingers.

And meanwhile, Solomon Lindermann hadn't taken his eyes off the man.

---

At the Gryffindor table, the students continued to eat and Laughing Jack watched a few. He noted the redheaded kid, 'Ron Weasley' as he'd introduced himself, was really horking down on the plate that he seemed to be constantly loading and unloading with grotesque amounts of food.

He looked down the table at another redheaded guy. He had a very stick-up-the-butt attitude and had been arguing with Jeff a while ago about Smile being in the Great Hall (to which, Jeff ever-so-politely told him he could take his opinion and a great deal of the silverware by his plate and shove it somewhere to join the stick he's already got in there). The redhead in question was currently absentmindedly talking to another bunch of older students, not paying attention to their side of the table.

Perfect.

He casually reached into his pocket space and pulled out a vibrant green candy. Just a mild acid to give some indigestion, perfectly harmless and an excellent lesson for a glutton to a) not eat random food he finds and b) eat slower.

He looked away, slyly dropping it with sleight of hand so the small candy rolled right in front of Ron's plate. He quickly glanced away as the redhead looked up at him and, seeing he wasn't looking, picked up the candy.

He took the hard candy from the green plastic wrap and flipped it in the air, opening his mouth ready to catch it, when a hand suddenly blurred in front of his face, grazing his nose. He started as the candy went sailing across the table and landed in another girl's drink a couple seats down.

"Hey! What's the big ide-" Ron started, but noted Jeff's hand lazily pointing towards the goblet the candy landed in. The girl and those around her shrieked as the drink began smoking and the metal dissolved as the drink became acidic enough to eat straight through the gold and begin on the table around it.

A professor came over and vanished the material before setting to repairing the table. A new goblet and drink appeared in the spot to replace the lost one.

Jeff snickered at Ron's dumbfounded look, "Never trust anything 'Wacky Jacky' gives you." He advised.

Slender, having been brought out of his impromptu staring match with the Headmaster, noted the reaction and sent a glamoured glare at the monochrome entity. He was already on thin ice for having his glamour appear with makeup too similar to his usual appearance, this was pushing it.

"H-hey, Jack?"

The 'Juggalo' turned towards the twins, who were looking anxiously at him. "Look, mate, we like you. Really, we do, but could you not kill our brother? I mean, he's a prat, but-"

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed angrily.

Gred continued, closing his eyes only momentarily, "-but he is still our brother. Y'know?" Forge nodded in agreement.

Jack chuckled, "No worries. I don't kill people with my jokes," In Hogwarts, he added mentally, "That candy just causes a stomachache. It doesn't hurt them outside of that… and a painful experience on the crapper later. Dunno why it reacted with that stuff, what is it anyway?"

"Pumpkin juice," Forge replied, sincerely relieved at Jack's reasoning.

"Hmm." The multidimensional entity frowned in thought, deconstructing the chemical nature of pumpkins (and also how in the world would you juice one) and trying to figure out where his simple acid tablet would get potent enough to eat solid gold.

Something to study later, he supposed.

At the moment, Slender was listening intently to a boy, Neville Longbottom, and his story, "Well, see Gran thought I was a squib on account that I hadn't shown accidental magic, yet. She didn't say she minded, but I could tell she was bothered. Then, my Great Uncle Algie kept trying to do things to 'scare it out of me'.

"He wound up pushing me in the Blackpool Pier, once. I would've drowned, but the nice lifeguard lady saved me. The next few times were things like holding me upside down and shaking me. Threatening to kill a pet rabbit I had… I miss it…" Neville's eyes moistened.

He perked up suddenly at another memory, "But I did show magic eventually! Uncle Algie was holding me by the ankles out the third story window of the manor. Then, my Great-Auntie Enid offered him meringue and he accidentally let me go. I fell all the way down and bounced into the garden!" He beamed proudly.

"They were so pleased! Uncle Algie even bought me Trevor and I- Oh, no!" He wailed, checking his pockets and finding the toad gone.

Slender held up a hand, frowning. "Don't, I'm sure it'll turn up and even then, it's just a toad. Now what was this about accidentally dropping you?"

Neville's eyes widened, feeling like he'd let something slip that he shouldn't have. "I, er, I mean, it was an accident."

"An accident that, had you not been fortunate enough to have activated magic for, would have left you very dead." Slender argued firmly.

Neville gulped, fear and anxiety in his eyes now, "W-well, I mean… Squibs aren't that uncommon-"

"Squibs?" Slender asked.

"N-non-magical people born to magical parents. A-anyway, it used to be considered shameful to have them, b-but people aren't… I mean, it isn't…" He tried to talk, but his mouth kept getting dry.

Jeff solemnly looked in his cup, "It sounds like a last-ditch thing. Either Neville showed magic and the accident was forgiven. Poof. Gone. Never spoken of again in the face of him having magic. Cover it up with a pretty useless toad as a gift. Or the alternative being he doesn't show magic. He goes splat on the ground. Oh well, accidents happen. No one knows about Neville Longbottom anymore, but he wasn't a squib because that'd be shameful and no one can prove he was. Poof. Gone. Never spoken of again."

Neville silently shook in his seat, realizations starting to flood his mind almost triggering a full-blown anxiety attack in the face of what he'd just heard.

The worst part?

It all made sense.

---

Dumbledore gratefully accepted a headache and vitality potion from the house elf hidden beneath the table. He quietly drank the vials and felt instantaneously better. He stood as the desserts vanished. He went into his long lecture on rules (that, naturally, nobody followed) and had them sing the school song in the multitude of odd songs, muggle, magical, and otherwise that crashed together horribly in a cacophony of out-of-tune notes and clashing chords.

"Ah, music, a magic beyond all we do here! Now, bedtime! Off you trot!" He announced, wiping away an imaginary tear.

The students filed away out of the doors, led by prefects. The Headmaster watched as Mr. Lindermann gathered his wards by the Gryffindor table and gave them soft-spoken instructions before walking purposefully up to the Head Table.

"Mr. Lindermann," he spoke, anticipating the question, "I'm afraid your arrival tonight was unexpected, so we haven't yet accommodated a room for you and your wards. I believe we'll need at least four different rooms prepared if all here intend to stay." He reasoned, glancing at the wards.

"Not necessary," Solomon replied, "I only planned to bring everyone here just for today. We'll just need a room for three to four people. They will be able to accommodate one room for then. If more arrive, I will inform you ahead of time."

Dumbledore nodded, "Very well, my boy," He noted a tiny twitch of his eye, though he couldn't decide if it was humor or anger… and Legilimency to find out seemed like a bad idea in light of the last time. "We'll be able to have your rooms ready by tomorrow morning, if you're able to come by."

"We will." The white-haired man assured him.

"Then I will ask if you have any preferences in terms of a painting?" The headmaster enquired. At Solomon's confusion, he elaborated, "Every private room in the castle is guarded by a magical portrait. They are capable of opening and closing the doors based upon a set password. I am asking if you have any preference for a certain style or image for your door cover."

The guardian seemed to think it over before replying, "I believe I will have a suitable substitution available to us. I'll bring it along tomorrow morning when we visit."

The headmaster nodded in acceptance, mentally wondering where on Earth they could have found a magical portrait. Even then, he wondered if it was some form of muggle technology. If it was, then he would be sorely disappointed when it ceased to work. He mentally prepared one of his more loyal portraits to be available. This portrait could successfully listen in on their conversations in the room while, simultaneously, monitoring when they go in and come out.

He watched the tall man and his wards leave the Great Hall, escorted by Minerva to the gates. From there, they were largely on their own devices, but seeing as they had already arrived here unannounced, it should be interesting to see how they travelled.

---

Minerva led the large group through the hallways back towards the main entrance. She was stopped short by a loud cackle echoing above them. 'Oh, no.' She moaned.

"Ooooh! Ickle guesties! Oh, Peevsies will make you all right at home! Miss Professor can't give you a proper tour; MacGoggles has her hat on much too tight for her own good! Ehhehehehe!"

Her vision was obscured as the pest of a poltergeist suddenly pulled down on her hat flaps and she struggled to pull it back up. Everything around her was muffled by the dense fabric of the hat and her own attempts to remove it.

"Here! Can you juggle, Mr. Clown?" The tiny man floating around took out several walking sticks and dropped them on everyone, bonking BEN's head in particular. He cackled and zoomed through the group, maliciously disrupting their walk-

*grab!*

He jolted suddenly as he found his wrist anchored in place. He looked around wildly, seeing that the little girl in pink had her small hand wrapped around his own.

His mind spun with the implications!

Here, a human girl, could touch a ghost. She could restrain him, hold him-

"I don't like your games, sir. They're mean. G-games. Shouldn't. Hurt." She whispered, unblinkingly.

He was sweating ectoplasm bullets as her tiny vice-like grip tightened further, practically crunching his ectoplasmic bone.

She could hurt him.

"Do you want to play with me?"

It was said so innocently, but his very being trembled as those unnatural, green eyes bored into his own. He shook his head desperately.

"Please, no! No Playing! No Playing! No games, alright? Peevsies be good to little miss's friends? Okay? Peevsies swears it!"

The grip relaxed and let him go. He bolted out of the hall and zoomed through the halls, the girl's quiet giggling echoing behind him.

The other ghosts, curious about where he went after not seeing him for almost a week, sent a search party. He was found in one of the most forgotten areas of the castle, usually populated only by ghosts like the Gray Lady or the Whispering Widow. He had tucked himself inside a large-enough decorative urn and when they found him, all he whimpered was 'No playing. No playing."

As the poltergeist zoomed away, Slender walked over to McGonagall and assisted her with her hat.

McGonagall had to blink as the light and sound suddenly returned to her. She looked around in dismay at the large bundle of sticks about the group and the young boy, Benjamin, cradling his head tearfully. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry. I've been asking Dumbledore to do something about Peeves for years, but it never seems to do any good. That meddlesome poltergeist ought to be taken care of."

"We'll manage," Solomon assured her. He motioned with his hand for them to continue and they made it to the Great Hall, undisturbed.

They walked out to the main courtyard and she led them down the long, gravel path towards the steel gates at the end. "Here we are; the Gates to Hogwarts. I'll escort you to Hogsmede, it's just down the road."

"Oh, don't worry, Professor," Solomon replied graciously, "We have our ways of getting around."

McGonagall was shocked, "Mr. Lindermann, I'm not sure you understand, but I cannot leave muggles on their own; especially this close to the Forbidden Forest!"

"We appreciate your concern," The guardian replied thankfully, "But we will manage on our own. Everyone grab hands."

She watched as they walked just off of the Hogwarts boundaries and each took one of Slender's hands. The girl, Sally, was at the end and used her free hand to wave goodbye at her-

-and they were gone.

The entire group vanished in a swirl of black smoke which dissipated into nothingness around her. She was grateful she went alone because if another professor, God forbid another student, saw her, they would have witnessed her mouth opening and closing like a gasping Herring on land.

Eventually, she collected her wits and moved dazedly back towards the main castle.

Inadvertently, she cast a side-glance at the Ravenclaw Tower, spiring into the moonlight and starry sky.

'Oh, Mr. Potter,' She thought, 'What on Earth is going on with you?'

---

AN: It's a lot to take in this chapter, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

There is a difference between Toby Rogers and Ticci Toby.

The Dullahan is a reference to something I watched on Toonami years ago called "Durarara!" (and, yes, the "!" is in the name).

-Crow