As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
Ron Weasley's expressive face could not hide his wary surprise before shifting to a friendly yet somehow stilted, uncomfortable smile. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Octavius."
"Thank you sir," the boy replied politely while staring thoughtfully first at the tall man's face then at his brilliant red hair. No doubt he connected the name and hair to his Transfigurations Professor.
"We're here doing some much needed shopping." Harry explained. "Apparently Mr Lestrange the elder was not aware of the changes to the curriculum. He sent the lad to Hogwarts with textbooks we are no longer using."
"Ah so that's why you're not in class. Bloody great excuse! I wish I'd thought of it when I was in school!" Ron grinned. But when the boy merely looked at him with cool disdain, his smile faltered. The boy clearly did not have a sense of humor. Not that Ron could blame him for that.
"Ah! And a new wand." Harry added, ignoring the sudden drop in ambient temperature.
Now the child's eyes lit up. Genuine excitement shone in his face as he dug it out of his robes and held it out for Mr Potter's friend to see.
Ron gave a whistle of admiration. "Lovely one, that." He bent forward to obviously admire the wand. "Ebony. A very nice wood, Octavius. What core?"
"Unicorn tail, sir." The boy was failing at any effort to appear nonchalant, clearly welcoming this attention despite his instincts.
Ron nodded and straightened up, grimacing slightly at a twinge of pain. "Use it well, Octavius." He smiled down at the boy who was now looking at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Ron quirked his eyebrows at the unspoken question. "War wound," he explained almost dismissively. "Before your time. Why don't you go take a closer look at the fountain while Mr Potter and I talk a bit."
"Yes sir, thank you sir." Octavius was delighted to be able to have a chance to study the monstrous artifact and he strode purposefully off to do so unaware of the two men staring after him.
"He even walks like him," Harry muttered as much to himself as to Ron standing next to him mouth agape at seeing exactly the same thing.
"That's got to be discouraged... You mean Snape, don't you. You know... Yeah, you're right. But why? How?"
Harry shook his head. An odd sort of sensation, a memory of a feeling from a dream, nothing more substantial than that tugged at his thoughts. "I don't know. But that's not why I'm here. We looked up records of children listed to be invited to Hogwarts. There were three before Octavius with the surname Lestrange but all were crossed out with dates of death noted beside them."
"We found death certificates for all his siblings. The most recent, Septima, died at the age of seven, six years ago. The first appears to have died shortly after childbirth. The mother was Bellatrix. The rest all seem to have resulted from various short lived unions with only pureblood witches."
"What were the causes of the deaths?" Harry's voice shook.
"Household accidents. Each and every one of them. Unbelievable." Ron shook his head in disbelief.
"Apparently very believable!" The angry retort hissed back.
"Harry. Calm down. The kid's noticed. Anyway, now that we know, we can try to do something about it."
"The most important thing is to get that boy away from danger."
"Yeah, I agree. But nothing we have yet is going to help."
"So what do you think of him?"
"The boy? He's ... polite."
"I think I would adopt him once we get him away from his father."
"Harry, are you mad? You have four already! How do you think they'd feel?" Ron gave his friend a hard look. "Do you think you love him the way you do your own?"
Harry looked down at the floor. "I don't know."
"Right. Well, let's rescue him first and then figure out where to place him. Anyway, he's at the school for the next seven years. That's something of a cushion."
"Is it enough?"
"If you and Minerva can keep him from going home for holidays it might be."
There was nothing more to be discussed and Harry passed over the bundle of parchment that included copies of Madame Pomfrey's findings, notes he'd made while investigating the dead Lestrange offspring and anything else he hoped might be helpful. the only notes he had not included were those he could not; the words of the child who only spoke because Harry had promised him what he said would not be shared elsewhere. He then gathered Octavius from the fountain (he'd taken up swirling his fingers and wand in the water after tiring of simply studying the forms of the statues) and led him back outside.
"Last on the list is potions supplies," Harry reminded the boy cheerfully. "Then we'll have lunch, unless you are hungry now."
"No, I'm fine." He'd had the two bowls of ice cream just before the visit after all.
Octavius was enthralled with the apothecary, its barrels and shelves of ingredients, the bundles of herbs and feathers, although not with the smell of sulfur and mold. Nonetheless, while Mr Potter troubled himself over the necessary potions ingredients for class, Octavius himself wandered the shop with unbridled curiosity, though he was careful to touch nothing. And not just because of the sour old man who was all but following him with irritated scrutiny.
At last, Mr Potter called him and they left the store to have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and finally flooed back to Hogsmeade.
The sun hung low in the sky in Scotland at this time of year despite the fact that it wasn't really all that late in the day. But it seemed appropriate as the adventure was winding down to its conclusion. Harry decided that a visit to Honeydukes was in order and he escorted the young Slytherin to the sweet shop. The boy eyed the delicacies with a combined look of disdain and desire which Harry could not help but notice even though the boy pretended only disdain whenever he realized anyone's eye was on him. He kept his hands jammed in his pockets but his eyes swept the shelves and bins with hopeless curiosity.
"Let's go, Mr Lestrange" the summons caught him unawares as he gazed at a display of chocolate truffles that changed the shapes of their decorations while he watched. He moved away from the show and followed his teacher out of the store. "Stop there and hold out your hands." Mr Potter ordered.
Octavius' eyes widened. "I didn't take anything!"
"I know that. Here." A box of chocolate frogs was held out to him. "These are for you for putting up with this interruption in your routine."
Octavius reached for the box hesitantly.
"I'm not going to change my mind, Octavius," Mr Potter whispered gently.
The boy bit his lip and took the box, clutching it tightly to his chest. "Thank you sir."
A quick grin answered him. "Just don't eat the whole box in one sitting Mr Lestrange. You might get quite a severe stomach ache then."
They hiked back to Hogwarts in subdued silence, each mulling about the confines of their own thoughts. Each glancing surreptitiously at the other. Afternoon classes were over for the day, but it was still too early for the evening meal. There were students outside, playing and relaxing on the grounds but no one greeted Octavius as they passed although more than a few shouts were directed at Potter. As they neared the entrance the front doors exploded outward with a rush of first year boys. One of them had the wild ginger colored hair that identified him as Harry's youngest, Sirius John.
"Boys! A little less violence in your exit, if you please."
"Sorry Dad," "Sorry sir" a mix of voices mumbled contritely back as the boys, five of them apparently, came to a halt on the stairs.
"You do know that other people might be coming in as you are exiting, yes?"
"Yes sir." Five pairs of eyes shifted towards the young Slytherin but no one said anything.
"All right, then. Please be careful, boys. Come along Mr Lestrange, let's get you back to Professor Vector, then."
--
The night brought a cover of clouds with it and a less than gentle wind had picked up and now buffeted the castle and its mostly sleeping occupants. Harry and Ginny lay tangled in one another's arms sweaty but satisfied. Neither quite asleep yet. Harry shifted his weight and changed his position slightly.
"Better not hog the covers," a bleary threat came from the lips of his loving wife.
Harry laughed and carefully arranged the blankets so that they were both tucked comfortably in. "How's that, love?"
"Missing something," came back.
Harry chuckled again and wrapped himself around his wife's still athletic form.
"S'better." Came the approval. Neither said anything more and both seemed to drift off into sweet sleep.
Silence reigned but sleep eluded Harry still. He shifted again, but carefully in hopes that he would not disturb Ginny. He fell asleep soon after and dreamt of the War again.