Disclaimer – JKR owns the world and all the characters from the books. I'm just building a few castles in her sandbox.

Chapter 12

The headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft of Wizardry was in his office before dawn brightened the sky. It often felt like there were not enough hours in the day to keep up with everything. Fortunately, as he got older, he discovered he needed less and less sleep.

Most of the faculty was aware of this, so he was not surprised when he sensed his newest professor approaching the entrance to his office. He instructed the gargoyle to let him pass and leaned back in his chair.

Remus Lupin looked tired and careworn, far different from the quiet and serious prefect he'd been more than a decade earlier. Dumbledore was glad he'd taken him up on his offer. Even if he proved to be an awful teacher, he could hardly be worse than his predecessors… and from what he'd seen of his lesson plans and reports of what had happened on the Hogwarts Express, he didn't think that would prove to be the case.

"Remus, you're up early this morning," he smiled. He hoped his former student would be able to break the curse on his position.

"Good morning, pr- Albus," the younger man replied.

Dumbledore's smile widened. No matter how old they were, his former students required a lot of practice before they could comfortably call him by his first name. "Please, have a seat," he waved his hand toward a guest chair and (with relief) set aside the budget proposals for next term. "Lemon drop?" he asked, smiling benignly as the younger man shook his head. "I heard good things about you from several students yesterday, in addition to Madam Pomfrey. I daresay you will not have to spend much time proving your credentials," he chuckled, eyes twinkling merrily. In a more serious tone, he added. "Harry seemed to be fine by the time he arrived at the Welcoming Feast."

Seemingly in spite of himself, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor returned a faint smile, but his eyes were troubled. "I saw, but there's something else that I wanted to talk to you about. I noticed something… interesting during the attack yesterday."

Albus' smile faded a bit. He'd been horrified to learn that the dementors had interfered with the train. Several students had been heavily traumatized by their presence, including one who already had more than enough to deal with these days. He was meeting with Minister Fudge later that morning to 'express his concerns about their behavior' – it was a meeting Cornelius was not looking forward to. "What was it?" he asked after a moment.

The younger man took a deep breath. "As you know, I was traveling in a car near the rear of the train. This proved to be fortunate when Harry, er, had his reaction. I could tell that more than one of those creatures had boarded the train, so I made my way to the locomotive using the Patronus Charm to force them out. However, when I reach the last dementor, it had already been forced back into the corridor. After sending it on it's way, I checked on the compartment, expecting to find some seventh year students who were good enough to conjure a patronus. Instead, I found a group of first year students brandishing their wands. The one nearest the door looked like he was ready for a fight, and a witch in the back just caught herself before she hexed me."

"A group of first year students?" the headmaster asked raising his eyebrows. "Which ones?"

"All five of them were sorted into Slytherin last night," the professor said quietly, hands clasped in front of him. It didn't escape the headmaster's attention that the fingers were white with pressure. "I find that to be quite… curious. I would wonder what technique they used to repel the dementor and, more importantly, where they learned such information."

Albus leaned back in his chair. "I know one of the students in question has a… unusual… background. But nothing that would explain what you saw. I was a little surprised at how he was sorted, though I suppose that older habits would prevail. I was hoping that… Are you suggesting that those students are…?"

"I am suggesting that there is something quite suspicious in their ability to resist such a powerful creation of Dark Magic. The way they were all Sorted also tests the limits of coincidence," his faded eyes bored into Dumbledore's and the old man was reminded of his fierceness during the struggle against Voldemort.

"Remus, be that as it may, they are all children. Surely you don't think-"

He was cut off by a whispered reply. "I didn't think Sirius could have betrayed us, either."

It was out there in the open now, and the headmaster didn't have an easy answer. He took a deep breath and sighed. "Remus, it was not your fault. I had no inkling of what he was capable of, and I have far more experience in such matters. At the same time, I feel that we must be careful not to… let past mistakes impair our judgment. One of those young men has a background that more than slightly resembles Tom Riddle's. Although he was sorted into the same house, and I'll admit that does concern me, his other actions have been quite different. It gives me hope that we can all overcome the things that happen to us and become better people."

Remus swallowed heavily as the headmaster's point struck home. He pursed his lips and started to rise from his chair, muttering apologies for wasting the headmaster's time.

"No Remus, you were right to bring this to me," Dumbledore said firmly. "I only ask that you give them a chance, as I have done. Keep an eye on them in your classes, and please share your observations with me," he paused and smiled a little wider. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to have someone like you teaching Defense."

In spite of himself, Remus Lupin straightened at the praise.

Scene Break

Perren's alarm clock woke them by screaming insults in a tinny voice. Malcolm was out of his bed, balanced on the balls of his feet and ready to fight before it registered that the voice was not that of an intruder. He quickly sat back down on his bed and began rummaging in his footlocker for clothes. Fortunately Tobey was still asleep and Perren was just now sitting up.

The smaller boy cringed when his bare foot touched the chilly stone floor. He yawned and nodded at Malcolm as the boy padded over to the bathroom.

When he emerged, rubbing a towel through his hair, Malcolm was happy that at least the dungeons had good plumbing. He preferred a nice hot shower to wake up to. Perren passed him at the doorway, muttering good morning.

Tobey was now sitting up and scratching at his sleep-tousled hair.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," Malcolm said, smiling. "It's the first day of classes."

Tobey glared at him and lay back down.

"I got one word for you Rookwood, and that word is 'breakfast'."

There was a loud growling noise coming from the vicinity of Tobey's bed. The boy sat up again. Malcolm chuckled as the stocky boy stumbled toward the bathroom. He wasn't sure how he knew what to say to him, but he supposed with his build he was probably used to eating a hearty breakfast.

Now why am I in such a good mood? He asked himself silently. Last night I was stewing about what an awful group of prats I have for housemates, now I'm… His thought cut off. It wasn't all of his housemates that were awful, in fact, he liked all the first years in his house. They'd treated him with respect on the train, though Annalise Dolohov had some serious attitude. He smiled slightly. They also backed him up against the dementor. Dolohov may be a snob, but she had guts as well.

Something bothered him as he dressed. I suppose I'm glad I ended up in the same house as them, even if the rest of the lot are a bunch of nasty bastards. I still think it's sort of weird though, how we all just sort of clicked. Maybe it's some weird psychological effect from the bombing… of course, I don't even know if they consider me a friend or not. And I am keeping a lot of things from them. I don't really know what the hell I'm doing, do I?

He was frowning as Perren got dressed and went back to working on his letter. "Alright, Mal?" the boy asked, looking up from his task and tapping his quill against the parchment.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wondering about today."

"Me too," the boy replied, looking down at his letter.

"I'm starting to wonder if I got lost and ended up in the girls dormitory," Tobey growled as he emerged from the bathroom, hands balled up into fists. "Bloody hell, it's like sissy central in here. You think any of those ponces handled a dementor? Not bloody likely. You heard them talk about it, Hawkshorn. Sounded like they were going to cry and wet themselves, you ask me. None of them were able to get pissed at it, or make it bloody back off. Hell, I heard a rumor that Harry Potter even passed out. I don't know if that's true, but you got nothing to fear from those cowards."

Malcolm was taken aback by Tobey's vehemence. "I suppose it sounds a bit silly, when you put it like that. Are you always this grumpy first thing in the morning?"

Tobey blinked and relaxed his hands. "Before I've had some tea, yeah." Perren snorted.

"Yeah, well I'm starving to. Let's see if the girls are up."

Perren colored a bit, but nodded and collected his parchment. As soon as Tobey dressed, they all grabbed their bags and headed for the common room.

Patricia and Annalise were already sitting on the couch nearest the door. "I wondered what was keeping you," the tall girl said as she stood up. She seemed as calm and collected as normal, but Annalise looked groggy, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

As they made their way through the stone passageways, Malcolm caught Patricia's eye. They both slowed their pace as they went up the stairs.

"She had a bad night and didn't get much sleep. I think she was having nightmares, but she put a silence charm around her bed," she whispered.

Malcolm blinked. "How did you know I was going to ask about her?" he whispered back.

Patricia just smiled and shook her head.

Without thinking about it, they sat on the end of the Slytherin table farthest from the teachers in the same configuration as last night. Annalise shot him a look as Malcolm sat down next to her, but she didn't say anything.

They were still a little early, so Perren worked on his letter as the rest of the student body wandered in. Malcolm noticed he was using what looked like a muggle sketchbook to support the parchment as he wrote. The rest of them talked quietly about their first classes. All they first year students in a given house had the same schedule,

"Charms first, then transfiguration after lunch, both double-length classes," Patricia read from her schedule.

"Ugh," Tobey groaned. "McGonagall is transfiguration, right? She looks like a right pain."

"Keep your voice down," Trish hissed, glancing up at the head table.

Tobey shrugged, then rested his jaw on his hands and yawned. Perren, sitting between them, seemed totally absorbed in his task.

Malcolm rubbed at his eyes as more students filtered in. If he ate quickly enough, he'd have enough time to visit Hagrid's hut before charms. The puppy was getting visibly stronger every time he visited, but he wanted to make sure it didn't go too long between feedings. His thoughts broke off as he realized someone was standing behind him.

Draco Malfoy, along with the two bookends from the train, was standing there, holding a folded parchment in his hand. "There you are, Dolohov. Annalise, is it?"

Annalise may be tired, Malcolm wondered, but she showed no sign as she coldly looked back over her shoulder.

Draco smiled as her ice blue eyes bored through him. "My father," he said, emphasizing the last word, "owled me that you would be joining us this year." He smiled a trifle maliciously. "I had no idea, and so you were forced to congregate with the rabble." He smiled coldly at the rest of the first years. Malcolm wondered if he was he trying to pass that off as playful humor. After no one smiled back, Draco sighed theatrically and smiled down at the girl, "Get up, you'll sit with my friends."

Malcolm couldn't think of a speech better honed to infuriate the blond girl.

Annalise glared at Malfoy, giving the impression she was looking down at him, even though he was standing. "I believe I'll sit where I am, Malfoy," she spat, saying the last word with some distaste. "I understand that my Uncle Ivar was considering an alliance with your house, but after sampling your manners I imagine he'll kill you five minutes after meeting you." She tuned her back sharply and began speaking with Patricia about what she expected for their charms class.

Malcolm suppressed a laugh at the gobsmacked look on the upperclassman's face. He very carefully turned his back on the third-year student and glared at Perren and Tobey. After a moment, they all looked down and joined the charms discussion. Malcolm felt the skin on the back of his next crawl as Mount Draco decided whether or not to erupt. Finally, it seemed that his desire to not totally alienate Annalise overcame his rage. With a muttered obscenity he turned and stalked back to his seat. Some of the older students were glaring down at them, but he did notice a mean-looking girl sitting next to Draco smiling maliciously.

Malcolm let his shoulders drop as the conversation farther up the table resumed. After a few minutes Draco was telling some improbable story about how he'd threatened to hex a dementor if it didn't get out of his face, at which Tobey scowled. Tobey opened his mouth to say something, but Perren elbowed him without ever looking up from his letter.

"Remind me Dolohov," Malcolm murmured, "never to piss you off."

Annalise shot him a glare, but frowned in confusion after a moment.

"I'm not making fun of you, you know. I… we, were just admiring how you put that prat in his place."

She blinked and her eyes softened for just an instant before she looked away. Malcolm frowned and looked at Patricia. She seemed just as confused.

The noise from their right got louder. Draco was telling another story about the dementors, and something about 'Potter'. He flopped back in his seat, leaning against that smiling girl like he'd passed out or something. Right then a group of students in Gryffindor robes walked by and the silence was palpable. It was broken when the girl under Draco called out "Hey Potter! Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooo!"

Perren looked up from his letter, his face going a bit green. Tobey looked a little embarrassed, but Patricia seemed completely mortified.

Malcolm took a deep breath and blew it out as the immature pureblood continued mugging for his friends. "Well, I can see why we got sorted here now."

"What do you mean?" Perren asked, frowning.

"To bring up the average intelligence. These people are complete idiots." He said this loud enough that a couple of second year students glanced their way. There were only a couple of places separating them from the rest of the Slytherins.

Patricia gave a small laugh and blushed, but the rest of the first years just stared at him. "Look, I've read enough wizarding history to cover the period since my family went overseas. Those berks are openly mocking the bloke who offed the last Dark Lord when he was still wearing nappies. How powerful do you have to be to rebound the Killing Curse? Pretty damned powerful since no one else has ever done it before. Does that sound like someone you want to enrage?"

"It's not like he can do anything to them," Tobey objected. "The headmaster wouldn't let him."

Malcolm shrugged. "What if they taunt him enough that he loses it and does some accidental magic? Yeah, he might get detention, but that's not much consolation if he lost it and made your head explode." He noticed everyone make a face at that. "Besides, what if he goes nuts or just goes dark? I wouldn't want to be on his list if that happens. Even if neither of those things happens, there are plenty of ways to do things without getting caught, if you know what I mean."

Annalise's voice was quiet, and when he turned Malcolm realized she was looking directly at him. "What sort of work did your father do?"

Malcolm smiled ruefully as he considered his reply. He'd already let something slip. "Let's just say he had a long career in government service."

Perren nodded thoughtfully, but Tobey looked almost scared for a moment. They were interrupted when the serving platters flashed and food was suddenly heaped upon them. Malcolm quickly loaded his plate and attacked his food with vigor. Not only did that divert their questions, but he also wanted to finish in time to check on Brimstone.

After gobbling down his eggs and bacon and two stacks of hot buttered toast, he hefted his bag onto his shoulder and told the others he'd left something at Hagrid's hut and he'd see them at charms.

He passed Professor Hagrid at the entrance. The huge man was wearing a moleskin overcoat that bulged with odd pockets and swung a dead polecat from one hand.

"Lil' feller's already up and waitin' fer ya," he said quietly. "I been getting th' hippogriffs ready for my firs' class!"

Malcolm smiled at the huge man almost bouncing with joy. "Well, good luck with it. I'll see to Brimstone and then get to my first class."

"Good lad," Hagrid beamed and patted Malcolm on the shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet. "Well, better get tae the staff table!"

Malcolm blinked as the professor strode off. Why is he taking a dead polecat to breakfast? He shrugged and hurried out the main entrance.

Scene Break

Malcolm's boots pounded on the stone corridor as he rounded the last corner to the charms classroom. He let out a sigh as he saw a short figure with white hair and beard unlocking the classroom so the Slytherin and Ravenclaw first years could file in.

Brimstone was noticeably stronger today, and even took a few experimental laps directly from the mug when Malcolm held it up to his mouth. Pretty soon he'll be able to eat on his own, or at least accept Hagrid feeding him. He was surprised that he didn't feel relieved. Sneaking around to attend to feedings was going to get stressful, but he was actually starting to like the little fur-ball.

Malcolm shook his head and looked up to find Patricia giving him an amused look. He just shrugged at her as they filed into the classroom. He had to suppress a smile when he saw the tiny professor climb onto a stack of thick books in order to see over his own desk.

The first class was mostly an introduction, but he still found it interesting. Magic didn't make a lot of sense according to the worldview he'd built over the first thirteen years of his life. His first wave of a wand, feeling that surge travel down his arm, changed all that. Now, he was gratified to realize that it still followed internally consistent rules, and once he understood those rules, he was on an even footing with students who'd been around magic all their lives.

Professor Flitwick seemed to prefer the Socratic teaching style – he asked questions to get people thinking and lead them to the proper conclusions. Malcolm, used to personal attention the tutors hired by the embassy (even the awful ones), enjoyed how this made for more active, involved learning. Soon he was raising his hand and answering as many questions as the Ravenclaws. He was glad to see that the professor, although he was their head of house, did not favor his own students. By the end of the lecture, he and Patricia (with a little help from the others) had answered just as many of Flitwick's questions as all the Ravenclaws combined. More importantly, they'd also earned five points for their house by the end of the period.

Malcolm couldn't help smiling as they left the class. He was surprised that with the reading he'd done over the summer, he was able to hold his own against students who'd been around magic all their lives. Of course, he had to keep his pride to himself. As far as everyone else was concerned, he had been around magic all his life.

As they headed to lunch, Perren excused himself to go mail his letter. His face was still looking a little pinched as he headed up the stairs toward the owlery. Patricia looked after him frowning. "He hasn't cracked a joke all morning. He's really worried about how his parents will react," she said softly.

Malcolm clasped his hands behind him as he walked- for some reason that seemed to make him think better. "Well, if they are really concerned, we could offer to meet them. If they see we aren't a bunch of, er, you know."

Tobey grumbled at that. "Just leave my name out of it," he said in a low voice.

Patricia frowned at him, but Malcolm just sighed. "Is there some reason you don't want to help him?" he asked.

Tobey held his reply until after a quartet of Hufflepuffs passed by them going in opposite direction. "Let's just say my family doesn't have the most savory reputation," he said and started walking faster.

Malcolm sent a quelling gaze toward Patricia, but she didn't seem inclined to ask for details. He'd see if Tobey wanted to talk about it later when they were in their dormitory.

Soon they were settled at the Slytherin table and Perren joined them a moment later.

Lunch was just as hearty as breakfast. As Malcolm dug in, he remembered reading in one of his textbooks that working difficult magic drained the body just like hard physical labor. The emphasis on that sidebar was to urge the student to make sure they ate correctly, but Malcolm could see the point. At least it meant that Hogwarts' Great Hall had better food than any embassy cafeteria or commissary he'd ever visited.

Patricia was already talking about the reading assignment they had for Professor Flitwick's next class. Her suggestion that they all get together after dinner to go over the chapter was not well received.

"Trish, it's the first day of classes! Can we hold off a little on the revision until we actually have some homework?" Perren said, rolling his eyes. With his letter sent, he didn't seem to be as preoccupied. Tobey just nodded, his mouth full of Shepherd's pie. Patricia turned to Malcolm and made a silent appeal.

"I dunno, mates," Malcolm said in a speculative tone. "I sort of enjoyed watching those Ravenclaws eating their livers. They're supposed to be the smartest, and they didn't us showing them up. If we keep earning house points like we did this morning, it should keep Pucey off our backs as well." He hooked at thumb at the entry hall with its gem-filled hourglasses that tracked each house's points. The boys looked torn, but competitive spirit and a desire to annoy the Ravenclaws won out in the end.

"Would you like to join us?" Patricia asked Annalise as she watched the boys wrangling with scornful amusement.

"Of course," she said in a haughty tone. "Unlike some people, I'm not here to waste my time." Perren and Tobey scowled at this, but didn't reply. Malcolm swallowed to keep from snickering.

After lunch, they trooped up to their transfiguration class, taught by Professor McGonagall. She was very strict, and Malcolm couldn't recall ever seeing her smile during his apprenticeship with Hagrid over the summer. He wanted to make sure they were all early. Some of the second years had warned them that since she was the Gryffindor head of house, she'd look for any excuse to deduct house points. Malcolm didn't see why that would make her go gunning for them, other than the obvious antipathy between some of the students in each house.

She arrived precisely on time, looking over the Slytherin students. She counted and gave a slight nod of approval. This turned to a glare of annoyance as one of the Hufflepuffs just arrived, stammering apologies. She didn't say a word however, just opened the door and swept into the classroom. When they were all seated, she gave them a lecture about how Transfiguration was a complex and dangerous branch of magic, and how she would not stand for any messing about in her classroom. She punctuated this by transforming an unoccupied desk into a zebra, then changing it back.

The next seventy-five minutes were occupied by taking increasingly complex notes on wand movements and magical formulas. Finally, at the end of the class, McGonagall gave everyone a match and instructions on how to change it into a needle. Everyone set to work with much waving of arms and mispronunciation of incantations.

By the end of the class, Annalise actually managed to change her match, though it was still a bit thick around the middle. Patricia turned hers silver and got one end down to a point. Tobey and Perren got their matches to at least assume a silvery hue. Malcolm, however, didn't manage to accomplish a thing. Professor McGonagall, after an approving nod at Annalise's work, watched Malcolm carefully duplicate the wand motion as he repeated the words in a clear voice. He felt his stomach drop as the wand just laid there in his hand like a dead twig. He tried just waving his wand, but no sparks came out, though a few motes dribbled from the end.

"Mr. Smith," she said over his shoulder in a clipped voice, making him jump a little, "it's important to focus your mind on what you want to accomplish. That is even more important than words or motions. Now try again, and this time really focus your mind on the needle."

Malcolm took a deep breath, but the tight feeling in his chest would not go away. He closed his eyes for a moment to visualize the needle, then repeated the spell. The sinking sensation in his stomach was worse this time. Not only didn't his wand seem to respond, but the heavy leaden feeling was creeping through his arms and legs as well. He blew out a frustrated breath and turned to look at the professor.

McGonagall was frowning as well, but when she opened her mouth, her words were just off by the bell. She shook her head as the students shoved their books into their bags and started to leave the classroom. "Keep working at it, Mr. Smith, and it should come to you eventually," she finally said. Malcolm nodded and left to follow the other Slytherins.

Since there were still a couple of hours before dinner, they went back to their common room to do their reading for charms. Malcolm's stomach was still roiling, but it calmed down after a while. It disturbed him that the first time he tried to do magic in a lesson he'd been an abject failure. None of the other's said anything, but he still felt a little embarrassed. At least she hadn't deducted house points.

That thought made him jerk his head up from his charms reading. "You know," he said in a low voice, "she wasn't nearly as bad as she was made out to be."

Patricia nodded agreement while Tobey and Perren exchanged a look. "Do you think they were having us on?" Perren asked.

"Maybe," Malcolm replied. "Or they were messing about in her class. I don't imagine she would take too kindly to that, but if we aren't being pillocks I don't think she'll have it in for us."

"I don't think," Annalise said speculatively, eyes narrowed, "that this big 'Slytherin versus Gryffindor' rivalry is as universal as some people want us to think."

"You're spot on," Perren agreed. "We know from breakfast that Malfoy and his lot have it in for Potter."

"Do you think they're recruiting?" Tobey asked, casting a glance toward the fireplace. Malfoy wasn't there, but his sycophants were all clustered around one of the tables whispering.

"I imagine they'd like the whole house united with them in their vendetta against certain parties," Malcolm said carefully, casually stretching and checking for eavesdroppers as he twisted in his armchair. "Personally, I think we'd do better to make our own decisions about people."

Patricia nodded, looking a little relieved. "I'd rather not be more of a pariah than absolutely necessary."

Tobey shook his head. "There are plenty of people who won't like us just because we're in this house." He nodded at Perren who let out a sigh.

"True," Malcolm agreed, "but not everyone will be that way. I'm just saying we need to be careful not to alienate people who might have been willing to give us a chance, alright?"

"Now you are speaking more like a Slytherin," Annalise said, raising an eyebrow. When they all looked at her, she shrugged. "Several members of my family attended Hogwarts. All of them were sorted into this house, so I am somewhat familiar."

"Then I'll take that as a compliment," Malcolm said, making her scowl back at him. He looked up at the ornate clock that hung on one wall. "I need to go see Hagrid again. I'll meet you in the Great Hall for dinner, alright?"

"Are you still on detention with that git?" Tobey groused.

"Nah," Malcolm reassured his friend. He was feeling worse and worse about the deception. "He has me helping him with something. I don't mind; just don't let the others get wind that I actually get along with him." He noticed them all staring at him now and his face colored. "I'll let you all about it after dinner." He dropped his voice and added, "There are a lot of ears in here right now."

Scene Break

Malcolm made his way out to Hagrid's hut while the summer sun was still fairly high in the sky. When he knocked on the door, however, no one answered. He knocked again, harder, and called out "Professor Hagrid?"

He was about to go looking around the paddock when he heard movement inside the hut. He was about to knock again when the door opened.

Hagrid stood in the doorway, holding Brimstone's crate in his hands. The large man sighed and the alcoholic fumes made Malcolm's eyes water. "Well, I'm probly gon ter set a record for quickest sacking of a Hogwarts professor," he said sadly.

"Why," Malcolm asked, "what happened?"

"One of th' students got hurt during my first class. Summat happened with Buckbeak, an' he laid open young Malfoy's arm. Took 'im to the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey fixed 'im as best she could, but he's still hurtin' pretty bad. Whole arm is wrapped up in bandages…"

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Malcolm said firmly. "If he got on Buckbeak's nerves half as much as he got on mine, you'd have had to bring him to the infirmary in a bucket."

Hagrid shook his head sadly. "Don't matter none. School governor's been told already I imagine." He sighed, making Malcolm's eyes water again. "Just a matter of time…" his voice trailed off sadly.

The puppy stuck its head out of the crate and made a peculiar mewling sound when it saw Malcolm. Hagrid snapped out of his reverie and looked down.

"Anyway," Hagrid continued, "I'm not going ter be able to take care of lil' Brimmy any longer if I get sacked. I want you ter take him. 'e won't take food from anyone else. I talked ter Professor Dumbledore and 'e said you could keep it in yer dormitory like a reg'lar pet. Technically speaking, it is a magical pet after all… just a lil' different. Anyway, I put th' mug in there, along with a bottle of sulphur. Th' house elves will keep refilling th' mug as long as y' leave it out for them tae see."

He handed the crate to Malcolm, whose mouth was still hanging open. "Hagrid, I can't take— this is—"

"I told ya, I already talked ter Professor Dumbledore. 'e understands about lil' Brimmy, he does. Just take care of the poor little thing." Hagrid sniffed loudly and Malcolm took a step backward. He'd been about to say 'I don't have anywhere to keep him over the summer,' but he didn't want to add to the man's worries. Whatever happened earlier that afternoon had really put a scare into him. If it wasn't as bad as Hagrid thought, he could always bring Brimstone back to him. In the end, he kept his arms wrapped around the crate and just nodded.

"Good man," Hagrid murmured. "In about two weeks, you'll want tae get a fire-proofing charm placed on th' bedding, just in case. Shouldn't be much problem though, firehounds are really clever. Little guy 'is almost toilet trained already."

Malcolm sighed and hoped his dorm-mates were understanding. "Don't worry about Brimstone; I'll take good care of him."

"Alrigh', ye'd better get inside before it gets dark and give him 'is evening feeding. I'm going tae get ter organizing things… for you-know." Hagrid frowned as he slid the door shut.

Malcolm scratched Brimstone behind his ears and then re-tucked the bedding. He shifted the crate around and held it under one arm as he marched back to the dormitory. He didn't look around, he didn't act nervous. If worst came to worse, Hagrid did say that the headmaster had approved this. Malcolm simply moved with purpose and no one stopped to ask him what he was carrying.

He sat down on his bed about half an hour before dinner. Perren and Tobey followed him from the common room, and he smiled at them as he pulled back the rough blanket that covered the top of the crate. "This is what I've been working on with Professor Hagrid."

They both crowded around on the bed to get a better look at the puppy. When Malcolm scratched its head and it opened its eyes, they both flinched back from the green glow. Malcolm noticed that Brimstone was actually radiating heat like his mother.

"Blimey," Tobery whispered, "that's a hellhound, isn't it?"

"The proper term is firehound, according to Hagrid, but yeah, he is," Malcolm replied.

"He gave him to you?" Perren asked.

"Well, I was there helping when he was born… it was pretty bad. The mother and the rest of the litter didn't make it. Little guy just barely made it and it thinks I'm it's mum, and it won't let anyone else feed it… so he told me to take care of it." Malcolm frowned. "Sodding Malfoy did something in Hagrid's class today and got hurt. Now Hagrid thinks he's going to get fired, and he wants to make sure Brimstone gets taken care of."

"That. Is. So. Brilliant!" Perren said, with the largest smile Malcolm had seen from him since the sorting ceremony. "I mean," he added, "not the part about Professor Hagrid getting sacked. I brought an owl, and Tobey did too, but I've never even seen a hellhound before!"

"I saw one a long time ago, at one of my uncle's parties," Tobey said slowly. "But it was a huge, foul-tempered thing. Really old too. I never thought of one looking… well, cute before."

Malcolm dug the chipped mug and the bottle of powdered sulfur out of the bedding. He set each on his nightstand and re-settled the bedding to make sure his charge was warm and well-insulated. "He said the house elves would know to fill the mug with his formula. Do you think they'll swing by here while were eating dinner?"

Perren shrugged but Tobey nodded. "Yeah, while we're eating they won't have anything to do, so they'll check the rooms looking for work." He shook his head in amusement, adding "House-elves aren't happy unless they have something to do for someone."

Malcolm nodded as they stood up to head off to dinner. His stomach relaxed a little and his appetite started to come back. Far from objecting to Brimstone's presence, his friends were more than happy to have him there. He owed them one.

Malfoy wasn't at dinner, though his mean-looking girlfriend, who Patricia identified as Pansy Parkinson, arrived late stating that she'd just come from the infirmary. After that, most of the third year students huddled together, conversing in low tones. Malcolm wished he could hear their conversation.

As they ate, Perren and Tobey kept looking at him and grinning. Finally, Patricia let out an exasperated sigh. "What is it with you two?" she asked.

"Mal's got a surprise," Perren answered in a quiet sing-song. "He can show you after dinner."

"Perren!" Malcolm hissed. He didn't want to take Brimstone out into the common room just yet.

Perren looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"I'd rather the whole house didn't know."

He shrugged. "Well, they can come back to our room and see."

Malcolm choked a little on his pumpkin juice. "Won't the alarms go off once they set foot in the corridor?" he asked.

Tobey grinned. "The girls' dormitory is trapped, but not ours. I guess they wanted to protect the ladies' virtue, but figured that anyone who walked into the boy's dormitories was fair game."

"Tobias Rookwood, watch your language!" Patricia snapped.

The stocky boy flushed at her use of his hated first name. "Was just a joke," he muttered.

Annalise was glaring at him as well. "It was very crude, though not surprising given your parentage…" she said, her voice trailing off softly.

Tobey's face went pale as milk. "Not that you have any room to talk," he snapped.

Malcolm glanced at Patricia, raising his eyebrows, but she was looking down at her plate. Tobey and Annalise continued glaring at each other through the meal.

"Alright," Malcolm said as they stood up from the table. "We're going back to our dormitory and going over the charms reading… among other things," he announced firmly.

Everyone was quiet as they filed into the dormitory. Malcolm noticed some of the older students glancing at them curiously, but no one stopped them.

As he hoped, the house-elves had filled Hagrid's mug with the warm milk-and-lamp-oil mixture for Brimstone. Uncovering the sleepy puppy and feeding him also provided a welcome distraction. Patricia cooed over Brimstone so much that Malcolm had difficulty suppressing a grin. Even Annalise reached out and stroked the soft black fur on its ear as it licked formula from Malcolm's finger.

After the puppy fell into a sated stupor, Malcolm cleared his throat. "Now, you want to explain what that was all about at dinner?"

Neither Tobey nor Annalise would answer. Perren looked at Patricia and she sighed. "Malcolm," she said quietly, "You were probably out of the country when all of this happened, but many of You-Know-Who's followers were sent to Azkaban after he was defeated. Each of their, uh, fathers, was imprisoned."

Malcolm figured if he could dice up the silence that descended, he could sell it for building materials. "How long ago was this?" he finally asked.

"Most of the trials were right after You-Know-Who disappeared," Perren replied.

"So this was, what, ten, eleven years ago?"

He nodded.

"Okay," Malcolm said after thinking a moment. "Look you two," he said peering at Tobey and Annalise, "I'm sorry it happened. But, I don't think it's really relevant to who you are today. Do either of you even remember them?"

After a long moment, Tobey shook his head. Annalise didn't answer, but that alone was enough of a reply for Malcolm.

"Alright then," he said after a moment. "We'll consider it a non-issue, and we'll all agree not to bring it up again." He looked around and Patricia and Perren were both nodding vigorously. "Good enough," he concluded, even though the others hadn't formally conceded. "Trish, where were we in that chapter?"

As they pulled out their books and opened them, some of the tension in the air began to evaporate.

A/N:

Hello, it's been a few days, but this is the longest chapter to date. Would you all prefer shorter chapters and more frequent updates? Or longer between updates but larger chapters?

If these characters seem to act somewhat mature for their age, it's intentional. Purebloods are raised in an almost Medieval culture where the age of majority is 17, and marriages at that age are not looked at too questioningly.

Also keep in mind that many students finish their education at the end of their fifth year when they take their OWLs.

Finally, children in the wizarding world are raised in a culture where they are basically given a loaded gun at age eleven, when they receive their first wand.

To me, all these factors indicate that children in the wizarding world are expected to grow up far faster than their muggle counterparts.

Anyway, let me know if you agree/disagree or have other questions. All feedback is appreciated, so let me know what you think so far!