Albus decided he was, indeed, happy. He was rather happy, really. He was a magical kid finally going to Hogwarts. Finally!

He had to be happy, no place for sadness or anxiety.

He had already missed an entire school year (he should have been a second-year now and be with Rose), so he had to enjoy his first year at Hogwarts. He woke up determined to have the best year of his life! Learn a lot, make a ton of friends, do magic, eat a lot, he couldn't be moping around because of something he could barely control!

"You shouldn't worry about the things you can't change immediately, Harry. You should manage what you can, focus on achieving what is humanely possible for now," had said his aunt Hermione when his father tried to convince William Magis to revoke Uncle Ron's temporary compulsory license due to an incident in Ukraine of which Albus did not know much.

He was unable to change the things that happened. He had no power to change the past. He was unable to, at least for now, control his dreams and repeal the man in the well in an effective way, permanently. What he could do for now, what is humanely possible for him at the moment, was enjoying Hogwarts as much as he could.

His first year at Hogwarts, what could he expect from the upcoming year? Would he have as many adventures as his father? He wished not. He wished for a calm, but entertaining year, without much trouble or dangers.

After all, he was only a kid, he was only twelve years old. He didn't have to worry that much about those things, he had to only enjoy.

At Hogwarts, dark things don't go in, they stay in the well, and remain trapped in the nightmares if Albus didn't let them come to reality… they would remain there forever. And that was exactly what he wanted. He just had to do as his therapist advised:

"Try to stay calm and avoid everyday anxiety, especially before bed. Do some light but fun activity before you go to bed, like reading a book. If you want, light a candle so that the environment becomes cozier. Drink the potion sparingly. Drink tea or a hot drink, and—"

Normal but sensible advice. It was true that he was taking maybe a bit too much of the potion lately, but what if he got a bit addicted to the dreamless sleep potion? No way he would become addicted that quickly…, and there had to be some kind of treatment in case he did right?

Some people were addicted to the lucky potion, Felix Felicis, for example. There were public support groups and awareness campaigns.

He took a deep breath, the morning's cold air was invigorating. This whole time he had stayed in bed, it was some kind of "awakening routine" that his therapist had encouraged. He reflected on what had happened and used the time to think about the present day:

"Try to synthesize things calmly, take the time you need, do not rush, reflection is the way to serenity, value the moment of awakening and use in your favor. Wake up slowly, take a warm bath, a bit of tea, do things that you enjoy and that make you calm. There is the "serene you" and the "anxious you", Albus, but try to favor the serene one—"

(Just like "you-yourself" and "you-man-in-the-well")

Stop. Better not to think about that. He should avoid those intrusive thoughts.

"Those intrusive thoughts you may have sometimes, Albus... can be a strong sign of anxiety. We need to avoid the "anxious-you" in the sense that it can't take over. But you must not completely repress it, because this is also part of you. It needs to be reworked, you need to give new meanings to it, we need to look for the primary origins of such feelings, understand them and act on them but, again, never let them triumph. The battle in our mind is also the battle in the body. So mind and body must be healthy to deal with challenges and to overcome them. If you think something is insuperable... a challenge so tremendous that it seems impossible, you should know that you are not alone. You can count on others, count on me, on your family, on your friends. The support of a group only strengthens us and gives us more possibilities. You're not alone. Ask for help if you need it. In this therapy session, I am officially abolishing any taboo, no topic is prohibited, tell me what you wish—"

"Good morning," said Sallinger, his wet hair falling splendorous over his shoulders, he was wearing the uniform, the blue tie matching perfectly with his eyes. Albus felt like he was blushing a little… why he kept feeling strange like this around the boy?

"Good morning, are you already ready to go?" He asked, it was still too early. Albus had woken up sometime between 4 a.m and 5 a.m and hadn't been able to go back to sleep.

"Yes, I'm an early bird, also I need to meet someone," he said mysteriously, but with a large smile. He had gone out last night, late, after arguing with Edmond.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" Albus asked, last night the boy had been really rude towards Edmond.

"Aren't we already doing that, Potter?"

"Please, call me Albus."

"Then, call me Michael."

"Okay, but can we talk?" Sallinger… Michael gave him a weird look.

"Is this about him?" He said pointing to Edmond's bed.

"Yes, you—"

"You know nothing about me," said the boy changing tone almost immediately, suddenly throwing Albus an annoyed look.

"And you know nothing about Edmond, right?" Insisted Albus. How could Sallinger hate someone if he didn't even know Edmond? Was it just because he was a werewolf? Ted had participated in so many campaigns against this kind of prejudice... Albus's entire family was quite pro-werewolf rights! It was the first time Albus saw someone who seemed to hate werewolves for real. It was hard for him to think of a specific reason that originated such feelings, and even if he could do so, nothing would justify such behavior with a dorm mate, with an 11-year-old boy who was starting Hogwarts now. Albus knew there was a lot of hatred against werewolves..., but he thought that he wouldn't have to witness so soon, at Hogwarts in such an open and uninhibited way.

Prejudice would be more concentrated in the uninformed layers of society, coming from those people that were resentful or disoriented, those who would be used as some kind of mass of maneuver for shady interest, at least that was what Ted thought… "either fear, disinformation or rancor, those are some of the roots of this behavior, Harry!" He commented once.

"I know enough. I know everything I need to know," stated him, very seriously, his voice full of hatred, or rancor, and maybe resentful. Albus was trying to map out his motivations and reasonings.

"There's always something behind prejudice, you know? If we find out what it is, we can change things, work with what we've learned and improve the situation a little bit for werewolves," had said Ted.

"Your father would be very proud of you, Ted, and your mother too," commented his father with a smile, admired.

"But, wouldn't it be better for everyone if we all got along well, I mean we're in the same dormitory. Wouldn't it make things a bit complicated if—"

"It would certainly not be better for me."

"But, what do you have against—"

"Sorry, Albus, this whole getting-along-well-with-all-your-dorm-mates is just not happening. I gotta met Bella now," he said, slowing walking towards the door, but stopped briefly to say to him:

"But know one thing. If you are going to cozy up to him you shouldn't then be hanging out with me. It's me or he, Albus. Choose wisely. And now that if you choose a wolfie over me, I'll be pissed, and you don't want that, do you?" He stated, coldly.

Then he left. Why? Why couldn't they all be friends? What were Salinger's reasons for disliking werewolves this much?

"I don't even know why you try," Albus heard, it was Edmond. The boy was only pretending to sleep. Albus didn't know how long the boy had been listening to their conversation.

"I'm sorry, this whole talk might have upset you," he promptly apologized, feeling a little guilty.

"I'm used to it. Nothing new, really. What is new is you defending me," said Edmond, getting up, his hair was messy and bushy.

"Why is this new?"

"Did you understand what I am?" Asked the boy, looking at him, seriously.

"Yes, but what does it change?" Edmond looked at him, dumbfounded, as if not believing what he was hearing.

"What does it change?! I'm a monster, Potter. I become a beast at full moons," he practically spat but whispering.

"I know someone who campaigns for werewo—" Edmond started trembling a bit, as if a sudden shiver went down his body, as if the mere name was rather offensive, a thing to be avoided.

"Werewolves rights," insisted Albus, saying it clearly. They shouldn't be afraid of a name, they should be naming it, and deconstructing it, and trying to end the whole prejudice associated with the denomination. Constructing new meanings, new significances.

"Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself," said Albus.

(Well then, Albus, then... could you start deconstruction the man in the well, then? Can you even say "man in the well" out loud?)

Go away intrusive thoughts... go away! He would try to do so... eventually!

"You're not one, Potter. Easy for you to say that, but thanks." The boy got up and give him a strange handshake.

"I know who you are... Ted Lupin is your relative, isn't he? He's been campaigning for—" he paused for a while, seemed to be trying to say a word, maybe the word "werewolf", but gave up "our rights for quite some time," he finished.

"Ted is my father's godson, he's family," said Albus happily. Albus had always seen Ted as a cool older relative, with his hair of multiple colors that changed according to his mood, his modern clothes, and his relaxed and caring way. When Albus was a little kid, Ted used to bring him, James, and Lily many different candies, as he often came to visit their house, he'd also tell them surprising and fantastic stories about his Hogwarts days. Ted and aunt Andromeda (Albus had always called her that) would come to dinner at least once a month, bringing delicious raspberry pies that had divine fragrances and unique flavors, with cream and fruit on top of it, always giving some small gift to the children. It wasn't unusual for the children to cry and complain when Ted had to leave with aunt Andromeda.

Ted had chosen the auror career, which had caused certain frictions with Aunt Andromeda who had shown concern about the dangers inherent to the profession. In his free time, he'd act as an activist for the werewolf cause.

"Hey... isn't Sallinger's father also pro-werewolf?" Asked Albus, suddenly remembering some of the journalist's articles.

"Uh... yeah. Well, at least he doesn't seem to hate us," said Edmond, a bit confused with the question "What about it? You know that people can have their own opinions..., they don't always have to follow their families' beliefs," commented Edmond.

"Yes, I know. But then that means that he has his own reasons to dislike you. He's not being influenced by his father," concluded Albus.

"Yeh, maybe. But what does it change, after all? Many people hate—"

"If we discover his reasons we can solve this problem," said Albus optimistically.

"Maybe yes, maybe not. Some people may just hate you for what someone is. I can't change being this. What makes you think you can change someone's beliefs soo easily?" he said, distracted, not seeming to really believe him and Sallinger would ever be friends, or at least on good terms.

"I'll try. We can't give in," he said, determined.

"You can try. I won't do anything. No interest in being friends with people who hate me," stated Edmond rather firmly, seemingly annoyed by Albus' enthusiasm. He then walked up to the showers, ending the conversation.

"No way werewolves are real." Yato had woken up and was now looking at him curiously. The boy wore two pajamas, a green with dancing lemons printed on it, and another on, too big for him, with a dull print that said something in... Japanese? Albus knew nothing about ideograms.

"They are, but not that many people like them here... or the magical world as a whole," Lukas spoke, sitting on his bed, trying to explicate the difficult topic to a confused Yato.

"But... like, they must have super-force and super-speed, it must be soo cool," said the boy, admired.

"Not really. They are forced by law to wear trackers now," clarified Albus.

"Why?"

It was a long explaining, Albus contributed with what he could, recounting his aunt Hermione's experience with the whole werewolf legislation process, for example. Lukas talked about some of his tribe's very interesting knowledge about the "wolf-figure" and "symbology of the wolf".

"The idea of the wolf is a mystical material manifestation of the symbology of the moon. The wolf channels the energy of the moon and makes the moon its object of constant worship, the wolf accepts his wild and natural status. But the werewolf is unable to channel the moon's energy for his own benefit and refuses the savagery and the animalistic side of his being because of his human nature, with that he insults the lunar will and ends up cursing the moon that shall curse him back—"

Yato seemed much less excited at the idea of werewolves, seeming even a little frightened. The boy began shortly thereafter to ask which of the creatures he knew in the "muggle world" were real.

"Zombies?"

"Hum... Inferi?" Offered Albus, remembering one of his father's most terrifying stories that used to give him nightmares when he was little.

"But, what about... vampires then? Are they real?"

Lukas looked suddenly terrified and answered with a shaky "yes", then immediately stood up and went to take a shower.

"Did I said something wrong?" Whispered Yato, worried.

"Dunno." He was also confused by his attitude. Must be something from his tribe. He was eager to learn more about it. Lukas was mysterious... he was rather curious about him.

"By the way Yato... why are you wearing two pajamas?" He said, puzzled.

"This is no pajama, this is a luck shirt!" Insisted Yato, proudly showing it to him "To give me lots of luck on our first day. It says... says something about luck," he said, not seeming to be able to read whatever was written on the shirt.

He decided to take a bath before it got late. It would help him feel reinvigorated. Ready to start a new wonderful day.

He was happy to have already made some friends, with whom he could share the happy times that would soon come.

Now he was just going to have breakfast with them, then go to classes, have lunch, classes again, spend some time in the common room, and then sleep. It may seem like a monotonous and tedious routine, but thinking about a specific and rigid routine made him more calm and relaxed, he just had to follow it and try his best today. Previsibility, order, structure.

No bad surprises…, well… maybe he would have some surprises but it would all be related to his new teachers and academic subjects.

He was getting a little nervous for his first day of school, but he also thought it could have been, after all, much worse: he didn't have any bullies (well Oscar was cold and rude…, but at least he ignored him, the boy wasn't actively provoking him yet), he had Yato and Lukas, and he just had to try to be friends with Edmond and Sallinger at the same time… it would be possible. It had to be possible, he would try his best to make both boys get along. Also, overall, he was being discreet and normal. Just a normal first-yeat Ravenclaw student. Going to classes and enjoying with his friends.

Wonderful. Just what he has always wanted. It was perfect that way. Normal. He wanted to be normal and have a normal and orderly routine.

After all, he hadn't been selected for Slytherin or Gryffindor. In both, he had feared disappointing his family and friends by not fitting into the image they had of what a student in that house should be like. He didn't feel like a "real Gryffindor", at least he didn't feel that brave after the waves of nervousness and anxiety… he also didn't have had the courage to face his problems as he should (he hadn't faced the man in the well at least, he had cowardly refused to face him). He didn't feel like a "true Slytherin" either. It was true that, in Slytherin, he could have been good friends with Emilio, or Hector, and even Barnaby, but Slytherin drew a lot of attention and he just wanted to be at peace. He wasn't ambitious… he wanted normalcy… his ambition was normalcy, was that a good ambition to have? He didn't want to be the greatest wizard of all time, didn't want to achieve important magical titles…

What he wanted was normalcy… but to have that he had to first learn new things, discover how to solve the problem. He needed knowledge. In Ravenclaw, he wouldn't have to prove anything to anyone, he didn't want to have to do that. He wanted to be himself.

(But remember the times you weren't "yourself"? When you felt like "someone else")

No. Let's ignore that.

He just wanted to be inside a house where he could be himself and be accepted as he was now, enjoying a common year, with common adventures, where he could invest in himself and share moments of joy and sadness with real friends (without basilisks, manticores or dragons), maybe a healthy dose of romance, the pressure of tests (which unfortunately cannot be excluded from a student's life), and maybe some inevitable fights with his friends, but in the end, everything would end well. It may seem like a very boring goal, but it was what he wanted.

"—He is getting better, soon he will be himself—"

"—I didn't expect him to be ready for this, I don't think he's the same as before, are sure he's okay, Harry?—"

Some comments made by his uncles and aunts invaded his mind (he shouldn't have heard them in the first place, but he did… and regreeted), he knew that Uncle Percy or Aunt Angelina did not mean to upset him..., but it was always uncomfortable the way they looked at him, with a stare full of resigned pity look as if thinking:

(It's broken. Broken and ruined and he will never be the same again. Something bad happened to him and now it's all over. That's the end of it. Albus from before is gone and now we have to live with this impostor-Albus... this anxious, fearful, cowardly Albus. Too bad, what a tragedy. But that's the way it is.)

Resignation. And pity.

(What a pity you have to be broken like this for the rest of your life)

…

He wasn't broken! He would show them. Maybe he wanted normalcy in order to show them he was just the normal usual Albus from before.

(Again, Albus Severus Potter, you are unable to face your problems. Don't try to go back to the "past-yourself", be your "new self". You want to pretend everything is fine, and not use what happened to you in order to grow emotionally, you just want to lie to yourself. Face the truth. Try to remember what happened! Are you too weak for that Remembering is the first step to overcome it)

"—Maybe the trauma caused him to forget some parts of it or the whole episode... He may be repressing something—" Had said his therapist to his mother, he overheard it listening through the door.

"— Your mind is... I can't read your mind, young Potter. Your mind... it's like a closed box. I can't hear you. There is no need for occlumency with me, Mister Potter. I just want to know some things about you, no big deal. Can you open your mind to me?—" The sorting hat had said.

(Can you open your mind to yourself, Albus Severus Potter? Can you open your mind? Mind is a Sanctuary…)

(Mind is a sanctuary. Are you afraid something horrible may "come out", something like the men in the well? The sanctuary of the mind—)

It was as if he was forgetting something very important and that he had to warn someone, he had to tell someone something. Before it was too late. He had to go meet someone. Urgent.

It was urgent.

He tried and tried to remember, but he couldn't. He just felt more and more frustrated. The very hot, almost boiling water flowed non-stop, during a long, going down the open drain, the metal cover that was supposed to cover the drain was not there. Albus avoided putting his foot near the open drain because for some reason it caused him supreme disgust.

That open-drain... circular. The water passing through it, going directly to the swear. That reminded him of a well.

(Better not look at that ugly hole in the ground. The man in the pit may be looking... looking from the drain hole... as he looks from the well)

He thought disconnectedly, almost paranoid. Ludicrous. Without any connection with reality.

(That reasoning of yours belongs in your dreams, Albus Severus Potter. Don't bring it to reality. Man in the well is not there)

Yes. How can someone be in a drain hole?

(He. horrible. Looks at me. That monstrous abomination. Hand. Hand. His hand touches me and I didn't allow it. I didn't let him. Invasion. Invader. Go away. But... Albus. You know the hand doesn't belong to the man in the well. It's not his hand. His hand is cold, dead, and disgusting, yes. But this hand you may be remembering is another hand. The man in the well exists, but you attribute to him meanings that he does not possess. The pitman who appears in dreams is the same pitman you think of now? No. The one who touches you without consent is someone else, not the man of the well, the man of the well is evil, but the hand is not his. The true abomination is—)

Ignore it. Better not to think about that.

(Stop suppressing. Stop suppressing. Let's remember)

He had talked to his therapist about these strange episodes... where he remembered something and seemed to be trapped in a specific memory that was strange, diffuse, and incomprehensible most of the time. He had called it "involuntary flashbacks"… only, they weren't really flashbacks, because Albus could barely understand or interpret well the memories presented.

In another flashback he had had, he apparently needed to get to some very important place, but he couldn't, for some reason. He thought that the corridor (or tunnel) was somehow connected to the geometric shapes and the star. It made sense to him, but he didn't know why. It was all so confusing, his head was hurting now.

"Do you have any idea about what triggers those flashbacks, Albus?" Had asked his therapist.

He may be thinking too much, time to stop.

(You are suppressing it again)

He needed to calm down, he was getting nervous.

One last disturbing thought crossed his frantic mind:

(If your mind was "closed" to the sorting hat and he could not read your mind... How could sort you properly? Do you remember that you could hear some whispers? Did the sorting hat consider those whispers when sorting you? Who was whispering? Who talked to the hat on your behalf? Did that really happened or were you being just paranoid? Was it the man in the well… the one whispering? The one thing you may be when you're not yourself? Is Ravenclaw the man in the well's house and not yours? Do you really belong?)

…

(I felt like I was "sailing"… [sailing in the well's water?]. Sailing…)

(Stop. Stop, Albus Severus. None of this makes any sense! Have you lost your mind? What are you talking about? Do you need to go back to the mental ward? You are Albus, it may just be the trauma.)

He soaped his body frantically.

(Dirty, unclean. Have to wash)

Better think about other things. Why he couldn't just think about happy stuff?

Okay, let's try.

He still had to write the letter to his father. He would tell him about his house, inform him about some of his friends, about his classes. What classes would he be taking today? Could he be friends with Eli even with Oscar's attitude? Was Sallinger trustable? Would Edmond become his friend? He wanted to have many friends.

Yes, he was managing to succeed. Just cheer up, think about normal school things. Let the annoying anxiety aside.

… I… C… l… f… r… e… l

He heard something.

But where did that come from?

e ... m ... e ... h ... e ... l ... p

Strange. He heard it, but he didn't know where it came from. He had no idea and was starting to get scared.

(From the drain. From the drain hole, Albus! You were right. Just look at it, and then you'll see the man in the well, looking at you, from the drain hole!)

Hearing things…

Better ignore that. He was fine. Ignore that.

He gave a fearful look at the drain hole.

…

Nothing. Just as expected. Everything normal.

"Be careful not to drown in there, Potter," said Edmond, suddenly.

"Hum?"

"Potter, you've been there for almost an hour. Are you developing some kind of new philosophical theory? Trying to figure out quantum physics?" Albus immediately turned off the water and got a blue towel. He was right. Albus has been thinking it all too deeply. No need for that. Everybody hears things once in a while, right? Nothing wrong with that! It was just an indication that Albus's mind was quite creative, right? Perfect for Ravenclaw. His house. His. This soul, this mind, and this body belong to Albus Severus Potter and to no one else.

Sanctuary. It's the sanctuary, thought Albus strangely, surprised with his line of thoughts. Mine. They belong to me. Invader and invasion are imagined.

(You're lying to yourself)

"Just thinking about classes. What class are you looking the most forward to?" He asked suddenly trying to avoid thinking much.

"Oh. Well, maybe, Potions?" he said, a bit surprised with Albus's sudden happy tone and attitude.

"Do you like cooking?" Albus had heard his aunt Hermione saying once that Potions were very similar to cooking.

"Erm… yes. I cook at the orphanage as I'm the older one, but I don't see how it could help me with potions," he said, unsure. Albus started explaining to him his aunt's theory.

"Do you live in an orphanage? How is it?" Albus asked very carefully, wanting to know more, but also afraid he was being too invasive.

"Yes. Well, it's just like other orphanages," he said vaguely "but it's in Cheshire. You probably know the situation if you read newspapers" he complimented as if the sole information explained everything. Albus could no longer control his curiosity and asked:

"Do you have any idea about the culprit?" Edmond gave him a cold look.

"All I know is that they blame us, Potter. If you are saying that—"

"No. You got it all wrong. Sorry. I don't believe it's a werewolf," he stated, seriously.

"Okay… sorry too. It's just that everyone blames us. It's tiring and annoying," lamented Edmond with a shaky voice "And… can you stop saying that word, Potter?"

"Call me Albus."

"I don't want people to know, Albus."

"I won't let anyone else discover"

"Anyone else!?"

"Lukas and Yato overheard," informed him a bit guilty. Edmond seemed annoyed for a moment.

"Okay, guess they would discover sooner or later… but, are they okay with that?"

"Yes. I guess so" he said… maybe Yato was a little bit scared, but he was sure the friends would accept Edmond.

"Everyone is crazy," grunted Edmond, but Albus could see a little smile on his face "Also, Potter… you don't think it's a werewolf…?" He said, serious.

"No…, hum, actually… my father doesn't and I agree with him," he said, happy to have the opportunity to discuss this theory. It distracted him, took other problems out of his mind.

"Does your father openly discuss these matters with you?" Asked Edmond, puzzled.

"I overheard him, I listened behind the door," revealed Albus without the slightest shame. It was his right to know important information like that. He didn't want to be treated like a child, left in the dark.

"Without knowledge, there is no way to form a consistent strategy, there is no planning, and therefore no resistance," had written Magnus Elliston in his book. Reading the wizard's work was an excellent way to distract yourself... you would spend hours and hours thinking about revolutions and problematizing things in today's society.

"He who deprives man of the sacred knowledge is an oppressor and will be forever judged by history in the future! Knowing is the noblest and most effective form of resistance and political activism and should be encouraged at all times. Children and adults, goblins and werewolves should know their rights and surroundings, because the one who possesses knowledge becomes unbeatable. He shall be the builder of new paths." Despite knowing his father's arguments against Magnus Elliston and his ideology... Albus thought the wizard was… fantastic. His book was inspiring and invited him to idealize another type of society, more prosperous and progressive, which valued democracy and equality among wizards, muggles, goblins, centaurs, mermaids. But Albus agreed that his methods... maybe they were way too extreme.

(But… before trying to solve society's problems, wouldn't it be better to solve your own inner problems?)

"So… any theory?" Edmond was waiting for him to reveal it to him.

"Well, my father didn't give me any details, he thinks it may be some kind of magical creature other than a werewolf… some that can be invisible because most of the times the aurors can't find material traces," he tried, eager to hear what the boy had to say. Maybe he knew more things and they could discuss them, theorize, and come to some kind of conclusion…, but he remained quiet, thoughtful for quite some time, and said that he couldn't think of anything specific.

Lukas came out of the bathroom, seeming to avoid looking at the mirror. Albus could see some more hidden tattoos, he wasn't capable of seeing before. They looked really good on him, water flowed down his body, a number of tattoos marked his brown skin.

"They are so pretty," blurted Albus, admired.

"Thanks," said the boy, distracted.

"Uh… any way you are avoiding the mirror?" Asked Edmond, suddenly. Looking between the boy and the mirror, that (only now Albus noticed) had a deep and large crack on it.

"Mirrors bring back luck," stated Lukas, as if it was obvious.

"Do they?" said Edmond, unsure.

"Why?" Albus wanted to know everything about Lukas… erm… about Lukas' beliefs.

"Mirrors show the other world, " he replied simply, entering the small cabin and changing clothes.

"Don't you have mirrors in your tribe?" Asked Albus, getting into the cabin and changing clothes too. Edmond was already dressed.

"No."

"What is the other world?" Asked Albus, fast, before they changed the subject.

"You are really curious, aren't you?" Stated Edmond.

"Yep. What are they, Lukas?" Silence. Lukas seemed to like talking about some things related to his tribe beliefs… while, it was true that some topics he seemed to avoid.

"The other world... it's hard to explain. For some it is an inverted representation of our world, for others it is... erm, it's too complicated. Let's talk about something else," he said, clearly avoiding the topic, with a somewhat fearful expression when he came out of the small changing cabin.

Edmond gave an uncertain look at the mirror.

"You also took quite long to take a shower," commented Edmond, distractedly "In the orphanage, if I spend more than five minutes in the shower, I'd be killed," said Edmond, dramatically.

"The bath washes the soul, it's like a ritual. I need to perform it the right way, I have to pray to the sun, praise it," explained him, returning to the beds, getting his books.

"So last night you were praying to—"

"The moon," Lukas finished what Edmond was saying, smiling at the boy. "You seem to be respectful of my religion and my beliefs. For me it's enough," said Lukas, suddenly, offering Edmond a strange greeting that looked more like a hybrid blend of a Japanese reverence that Albus had seen once on the television and an Indian prayer... that was the only way Albus could describe it.

"Yato! It's almost time to go!" Said Albus, gently poking Yato's cheek. The boy had ended up sleeping again on the bed.

"What…?"

"You have to get ready now. We have to go get breakfast before classes," he said with a sense of urgency. The boy got up and quickly went to bathe.

Speaking of baths... Albus didn't remember James saying anything about having a private bathroom for every dormitory in Gryffindor's communal room... nor exchange cabins… well, maybe Ravenclaw was a bit more refined … he liked it. Maybe… the Principal made some good reforms in the dormitories? It was more comfortable this way.

Yato came back soon, while he, Edmond, and Lukas talked a bit about their expectations for the upcoming classes. Lukas was excited about subjects he didn't have in his tribe's school, such as Transfigurations. Edmond was looking forward to most subjects, really, he seemed to want to excel in each one of them… Albus still didn't know for sure…, maybe Herbology. He wanted to see Neville, and he loved plants.

Albus went down the stairs with his friends, but then they had to wait a little bit before going to the great hall. Edmond wanted to wait for George. They sat on some empty sofas. Albus received some glances from older students, who pointed their fingers and commented things, whispering in a discourteous manner. One boy and a girl were talking a bit loudly near the fire, we couldn't hear everything, but he could clearly discern some parts.

"—Look, over there, my respectable sister Celes Roschtar-Steles, it's the kidnapped kid—"

"—He's traumatized or something, I think, I mean I'm sorry for him and all… but he must be a bit problematic—"

"—The son of Harry Potter, isn't he—

"—I'm happy to have him in our house and all, my dearest and loved brother Janus Roschtar-Steles, but what if he is… like, "damaged" or something like this and give this house a bad reputation. You know that until now I excelled in all subjects, I contribute with the house points. We only lost the house cup last year because of Gryffindor's favoritism—"

"Yeah. So true. I mean… they gave points because this kid's family was depressed. Poor James Potter, the prank prick… poor Roxanne… ugh! I'll crush this girl and the next quidditch match. Crush her," said a very pale girl with aristocratic mannerisms that had a crown-shaped clip attached to her long dark, straight hair. She had her legs crossed and behaved as if she were royalty, with golden adornments in the shape of an eagle in his robes. The boy behaved similarly, with glossy curly brown hair, clothes adorned with golden symbols. Both had an irritating and arrogant tone in their voices.

Can't they focus on their own problems?! Though Albus a bit too angrily. He was so tired of these comments.

"Janus, Celes, minus 20 points from Ravenclaw," said Patris, distractedly, he was sitting at a table near Emilia, he was having a conversation with Tómas Ranirus, who seemed to already have gotten into trouble.

"Huh… the commoner!"

"I don't believe it! The vassal!"

Both of them exclaimed, incredulous. Some young students nearby laughed at their pompous attitude.

"—Doesn't even care about our honorifics!—"

"—No education, he must have come from the rabble, oh beloved sister—"

"—How did he even become Prefect?—"

"What are our options? Magnificent sister, doesn't he yet know that we control things here? We're the heads of the house, the leaders, the owners, the king and queen of Ravenclaw—"

"—Anyone who brings disgrace to this house will be punished! Anyone who disrespects us will pay the consequences."

They whispered in a conspiratorial and fatalistic tone as if they were in a strange and far-fetched theatrical play that took place in the Middle Ages where titles of nobility, knights, princesses, castles still existed.

"—We, the nobles Roschtar-Steles, are the law, we preserve the points system and anyone who doesn't contribute the correct amount—"

They looked like two crazy people. They spoke in a strange, histrionic, and theatrical tone that seemed totally rehearsed. Were they serious? What points system? Strange.

Yato and Lukas talked about random subjects, while Edmond looked at the second-floor door, impatiently. Al was busy looking at Sallinger.

He saw him give him an ugly stare, then he looked angrily at Edmond. He was together with Arabella Astros and her friends on the blue couch. Sallinger distractedly smoothed his beautiful blonde hair delicately curly at the tips and looked at Albus with refined arrogance, as if the boy felt a solid sense of superiority. His mostly bluish eyes (with a violet-colored part) focused on Albus, judging him and condemning him for his choices. He chose Edmond instead of him… chose a "wolfie", as Sallinger had said.

Sallinger had to be part Veela... it was the only explanation. That would explain why Albus felt that way, right? The boy was hypnotizing him! Beautiful, attractive, but too arrogant, and too hypnotizing. Veela. It was the only explanation, right? It just could be this! It'd explain everything, actually. The strange way he made Albus feel…

"Oh, Sal! Hey, pay attention! I'm talking to you, Mike! What do you think: braid or ponytail, which one looks better on me?" Asked Arabella Astros holding the boy's arm, clingy.

"It doesn't matter Bels, you are beautiful anyway," he said, not really paying attention, not even looking at the girl that pouted with an annoyed face.

"It matters to me! Hey!" At this moment, Oscar came out of his dormitory together with Eli (no sign of George yet). He immediately saw Arabella hugging Sallinger's arm and threw him a cold and ugly look of fury. Sallinger turned to Arabella and threw her a sweet smile, kissing her flushed cheeks. If he mostly ignored the girl before, Arabella now had all his sweet attention.

"With braid, you look cuter, if ponytails and your glasses you look like the smart-type," he said suddenly charmingly, the girl giggled happily.

"Oh Sal, you are so sweet! I'm both cute and smart, let me try to find a way to make braids and ponytails at the same time," she exclaimed, asking for Simone and Denise to help her. She immediately took out of his pocket a strawberry-shaped lipstick and passed it on her lips. Some passing boys looked at Sallinger both angrily and with admiration.

"I want a boyfriend too," whispered Denise to Simone, then they threw a glance at some of the boys there, giggling. When Oscar stopped watching, Sallinger seemed to no longer pay as much attention to Arabella and turned to Albus, giving him a last cold look.

That cold look... must be a brother's thing., he thought bitterly.

He just wanted to be friends with everyone, why was he failing? Why he was the one that got cold looks? Not fair.

George finally left the dorm, he was with the two twins, talking happily in a foreign language. Maybe german?

"Ed! You didn't have to wait for me!"

"Don't call me that, it's Edmond!" Answered him fast.

"That's my friend Ed. Ed those are the Hansiels twins from Neuschwanstein,"

"Hi, Ed," said the boy with blue eyes.

"Hi, Ed," said the other twin who had green eyes. They both had strong accents but seemed simply overjoyed to be there, they looked attentively at every little place in the common room. They were Mari and Roher. Mari was slightly shorter with blond pinkish hair, Roher had hair that was half brown half blond, with round glasses, he was now analyzing some books on the many shelves there, while she looked at the ceiling with an astrolabe drawing in the middle of a bunch of constellations.

She was now commenting something with George in german.

Edmond rapidly greeted them, impatient after having so much for George.

"How many languages you speak?" Interrupted Edmond, surprised by his friend's language proficiency.

"Eight, fluently,"

"Wow! That's amazing," said Albus, suddenly, amazed. The German boy looked at him, only now seeming to acknowledge him, he asked something to George..., he was pretty sure he heard his name being said. Geroge responded him shortly.

He would like to be able to speak that many different languages.

"My mother wants me to become a diplomat one day," explained George, turning to him, proudly "I didn't say much last night, Potter, but I'm very happy that you're here, at least. We'll try our best and I'm sure we can win the Quidditch Finals this year!" said him, friendly, he held out his hand formally and cordially offering him a firm handshake.

"Albus only, please." Well… they could try. But he wouldn't be helping them on the field. He'd be better off cheering for the team. He could wear an eagle hat, bring a colorful rattle... something like that. He was sure his aunt Luna had a lion's hat... maybe she had hidden an eagle hat or something like that from her Hogwarts times...? Well… he could use the lion head when cheering for Gryffindor… he would cheer for James if the match was against Hufflepuff or Slytherin, for example. He tried to imagine him wearing a lion or an eagle hat... it would look so cute! He wanted to wear a hat like that. It was extravagant... but it would be nice... maybe he'd be embarrassed, but he'd be so cute…

"Okay, Albus then. Call me George or Ge, a silly nickname. We haven't met much, right? I know my dad knows your dad and all. I was with my mom in Japan! I love Japan, I miss the sweets and some friends of mine, but I think I'll like it here too," said the boy.

"You speak Japanese?" Albus asked, curious, and George looked a little sad.

"Well, I tried. But it is easier said than done. I can speak well, but when it comes to writing I am not very good," he lamented. They kept talking about it a little more until George went back to talk with the twins in fluent german. Edmond looked dumbfounded at the trio. He had waited for George until now and… he snorted angrily.

"Let's go!" He murdered annoyed.

Albus made his best to pass through Oscar peacefully, trying to avoid his icy stares. Yato and Lukas were now talking about Quidditch, theorizing about how the games would be. Edmond still seemed to be quite angry with George for kind of… hanging with the twins instead of with him. Well, George didn't seem to consistently be doing so… Albus thought that George was a person who liked knowing many new people... the twins were new so he wanted to get to know them better by now… only, maybe he could have accompanied them… inviting the twins too, so they could all be together. Instead, he remained in a coach, talking a little more with them, excitedly.

Edmond was very friendly when you got to approach him a little bit. They talked a little about the classes. Albus avoided asking about the boy's scar, even though he was curious. Did it happen when he had become a werewolf? Had it been made in a werewolf attack? What was the story behind the scar?

They arrived at a corridor near the great hall, after getting lost thrice because the stairs lead them to the wrong parts of the castle.

"Finally! Hate those moving stairs!" Said Edmond in relief. He had been grumpy after they got lost twice.

"Will this happen every day?" Asked Lukas, tired.

"Is this common, like… why the stairs move… isn't that quite dangerous, what if we fall? What if someone is afraid of heights?! Shouldn't there be some kind of map to help first years?" Asked Yato, the boys had discovered that he was terrified of heights, he had held on to Albus for almost all the way.

"Hey…, how are you going to play Quidditch if you are afraid of heights?" Asked Albus, worriedly. Yato was still holding his robes, nervously.

"Brooms are safe, and I can fly with them, can't I? I'll be the one in control… here I have no control, if I fall down those stairs I'll die!" He answered, fatalistic and dramatically. Well… wouldn't Yato really be okay when flying? Really?

He was ready to go out and have breakfast with his friends (Yato, Edmond, and Lukas), the great hall was nearby and he could already smell the delicious scent, a mix of fruits, bread and morning coffee… but then he saw James near the entrance, he made a sign to him, he seemed to want to speak with him. His brother's friend entered the hall before James. He asked Yato to reserve a seat at the table and went over to talk to James…

James…

His brother no longer teased him, which was a good thing, but Albus missed old James. It always seemed wrong to have James so solemn around him, full of concern. So serious, so mature. So unlike James.

"How are you doing at Ravenclaw? All right? Have you told our father yet? I'm sure he is proud of you," James said quickly, it was really weird not to have his brother mocking him (as he used to do, almost every time) or talking about Gryffindor's superiority. His brother had been treating him differently since the entire disappearance episode.

But mostly everyone was.

Either they had an encouraging attitude, praising everything he did as a great achievement, or they were more protective of him and treated him like a fragile piece of glass that would break at any moment. Or both.

"Fragile and delicate," wrote Dennis Sallinger.

"I'm fine, James. I was just going to have breakfast with my friends" Albus told him in a neutral tone. James nodded slowly. His brother was going to say something, but Albus said that he really should go. He didn't want to have James fussing so much about him. He may go have some problems, but he was working on them. He was managing. At least he was trying. He was strong.

Strong, he thought trying to convince himself. I know how to take care of myself.

"Wait, Albus. Wait," he insisted "If you need anything, remember that you have me and the whole family here. I can help," he assured him, then added in a much tenser tone "This time I can help."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," he insisted, a little irritated. He told everyone in the family that it was okay, but nobody believed it.

(Maybe they don't believe you because of the panic attacks… because of your anxiety… sometimes you woke up screaming… you remained some time alone, you didn't use to spend that much time by yourself, Albus Severus…, at times you look like a sleepless zombie, and—)

"Okay. But if anything happens, you can go to the Gryffindor common room at any time. If that Malfoy-boy at Ravenclaw does anything—"

"I'll look for you. I swear I'm fine. Nobody's doing anything to me, I have to go now James, hungry," he said, saying goodbye to James that entered the hall, giving him one last worried look.

When he was ready to enter too, he realized that someone was looking at the whole scene, curiously. He saw a pair of light gray eyes looking at him. They were not cold or menacing like Oscar's, just curious, maybe even friendly and welcoming. He had the feeling he knew that boy. But from where? He knew him.

He stared at him, puzzled for some time…, the boy raised an eyebrow. He realized he had been staring deeply at him for way too long, he blushed slightly, embarrassed, he immediately apologized and soon as he could, almost running away, made his way to the great hall. Did he know that boy, really? He had a feeling that he had seen him before, somewhere, someday. When? How? Why? Who was he?

Who was this boy? He gave him one last look… even from afar he could notice it.

His shiny blond hair, friendly and warm eyes seemed to gently analyze, subconsciously inviting him to get to know him better. The eyes weren't cold. No cold. Heat. Warmth, compression, safety, and comfort. And…, for some reason, he remembered something about thestrals and books. Had they met in a library of someplace like this?

Was he imagining it all? Was this some image he had created in his mind? Had he interpreted the boy, correctly? Were his eyes really that… warm and comforting? That friendly? Maybe that was just what Albus wished to see. But…

He felt that he had awakened suddenly a precious, secret memory, that was almost sacred. Perhaps the happiest memory of his kidnapping day... he had The happiest memory of a tragic day. His first friend, briefly but meaningfully encounter. He knew that now he could forget the rest. That's enough, you don't have to remember the rest anymore. I just need that memory. The one where he meets the boy at the bookstore.

(Black jet to the sky. From my wand. And then—)

Forget it.

(In order to overcome you shall remember everything—)

I need warmth and comfort.

(The happy moment before the catastrophe. The hand. It's not just one pair of hands. Lots of hands. Several. Often. Hurts. They cut me. They hit me, they hurt me, stop. All I think about is my first friend. And he's everything to me. My family too. Important. Happy moments. Shall keep them with me. Before the hand. But the hand is just an allegory. The hand is the representation of something horrendous, something abominable, something wrong, perverted, sick, unnatural, disgusting. Whose hand is it? To whom belongs the hand? The hands. Who are they? Where? I can't get over it. Leave it alone, forget it. Too much. Can't handle it. I'm weak. I must suppress. My mind is a sanctuary. These bad things... I forget, but I remember you.

This precious memory is all I need. Warm eyes. I remember. My first friend. I only had Rose…, but I mean, she's my cousin. Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy. He must be part veela too… he's making me feel strange…, not like Sallinger did, he felt a deep sense of warmth and happiness, not some kind of strange attraction…

Without arrogance or cold. No more cold. No more.