Disclaimer: Everything here (besides the few things you don't know) belongs to JK Rowling, creator of the worlds of Harry Potter.
A/N: ((laughs madly)) Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Much thanks to everyone who had reviewed and got me to the 300+ reviews this story currently has! I very much appreciate the time all of you have taken to review and I hope that you will enjoy this chapter as much as the others!
And to business: Well! We've reached the last five chapters! (And I'm on time!) Now that the threat of Ambrosius is gone, and Salazar's anger is well under way, the story takes a little different turn. These five chapters (plus the epilogue! Never forget the epilogue!) are my attempt to tie up the Founders' story's loose ends and leave an opening to your imagination. Only when it will all be complete we'll be able to tell if I had managed my attempt…
Much longer chapter than previous ones with a warning: mainly meant to show the happenings of those years from a Muggle-born point of view, but may contain fluff! You have been warned!
Important: PLEASE DO NOT PROCEED BEFORE READING THIS! This chapter introduces a new character (and as is the custom in this fic, every fifth chapter is written from a side character's PoV, so this is from the new character's), since I needed the view of a Muggle-born on the subject. Please bear in mind that this chapter was one of the earlier ones I have written and was almost completed long before JKR's latest interview to the Leaky Cauldron and Mugglenet.
In said interview, JKR has trampled out - in a way - one of my favourite theories, on which I had somewhat based the name, or rather title, of the new character. I have decided to leave the chapter as it were, and feel free to think that the character's title is merely a coincidence and has nothing to do with… well, just read on.
Enjoy!
Chapter 25 – At First Sight
"It is a well-known fact that prior to his thunderous departure from Hogwarts, Salazar Slytherin made it widely known that he did not welcome Muggle-born wizards and witches into his House. He had proclaimed that as long as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would stand, no Muggle-born would set foot within the premises of his House.
"However, how could he have made sure that it would not happen long after he and the other Founders would leave the world of the living? Surprisingly enough, it was Godric, his most bitter opponent in that argument, who had supplied him with the solution.
"The four Founders were long troubled by the question of how they would sort through their students after their demise. Each of them, after all, valued different virtues in those they had to teach. Godric favoured those who were bold and courageous. Rowena favoured those who used their brains to the fullest and enjoyed studying for the sake of studying itself. Helga appreciated all those who were loyal and took their work seriously. And Salazar - he wanted in his House only those who were shrewd and cunning, those who could see clearly into the future and find their place in it, and above all, those who did not have Muggle blood.
"Long they have argued concerning this matter, and then, one day, Godric came up with an answer. His hat. His hat which the two female Founders made him wear on special occasions when there was need for him to assume the role of one of the greatest wizards of the age. His hat that in years to come would be known as the Hogwarts Sorting Hat…"
- Hogwarts, A History; Author unknown
Aiden was scared. No normal twelve-year-old should ever be that frightened. He was almost a man and therefore had no business shaking with fear as the bulky castle loomed ahead of him. He was shaking for days now, though - ever since Father had sent him away. He shook away the stubborn tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. A man should not cry like a baby. He would show Father. He would show them all.
Aiden had never realized why strange things happened around him. Those things, that could only be described as witchcraft as the village priest had called it, have been following him almost since the day he was born. Every time something of that sort would happen, Father would lock him inside the house, not even letting him come and help in the workshop. Father had said that it was the work of the Evil One and that Aiden should know better than to fall into temptation.
Then that strange old man from next door came in, had a quiet word with Father and next thing he knew, he was on a cart with the old man's grandchildren, a few pots of Father's manufacturing and all his possessions in life neatly packed behind him. Father never came to bid him goodbye. Mother stood at the window, mutely bidding him goodbye as the cart rolled off. His sisters merely stood a little ways away and waved. There were no tears.
"Where are we going?" he had asked the eldest girl timidly on the first day of their journey. She had seemed to be the one responsible over the children, though she had mostly kept to herself, busying herself with driving the cart.
"You mean you don't know?" one of the younger children had interrupted before she had had time to reply. "What kind of a fool are you?"
"Hush, Einri," the girl had said sharply, hitting her brother with a handy wooden bowl. "Don't be rude to Aiden. It's not his fault that he's been born to Muggles. We are going to Hogwarts Castle. I've been studying magic there for five years. I can guarantee that you will love it there."
"M…magic?" Aiden had stuttered, his eyes huge. "But - but magic is evil!"
The girl had laughed. "Muggle nonsense, that is. Magic is not evil by itself. Only those who use it for evil purposes are evil. Headmistress Hufflepuff will explain everything to you and to the rest of those of Muggle heritage. She's one herself. Trust me, Aiden. You are going to have the time of your life. The Castle will be like a home to you in a short time."
And now, as he was nearing the Castle, days later, the fear still had not let go. He wanted nothing more than to go back and work with Father in the workshop or run errands for Mother. His eyes welled up again.
As the cart descended from the hill, an awesome sight met his eyes. Two magnificent pillars of immense height stood to either side of the dirt road they followed. On top each pillar was a big, ugly statue of a winged beast. He swallowed hard.
Jayda, the girl in charge, saw his expression and laughed. "You panic easily, Aiden. These are the great boars of Hogwarts. We will reach the Castle soon. The lot of you! Make yourselves ready! I will not have you shaming our family coming to school like that!"
Soon the Castle towered ahead, perched over a lake like a vulture in its nest, and Aiden's breath stuck in his throat. He had never seen such a thing. It was big, it was impressive, it was somber, but more than everything, it would be his home in the next few years. Like it or not, he told himself, he would have to accept it.
When their horses drew to a halt just below the stairs leading up to the great doors of the building, a lone figure walked down the steps to greet them. She was a sunny-looking woman, wearing comfortable robes over an extended belly.
"She's with child again?" Einri whispered to his cousin, Mellan.
Jayda, overhearing the supposedly private mutter, thumped him soundly on the head and effectively glared at him.
"Jayda, Riona, Mellan, Somhairle, Einri, Siv," the woman called with genuine affection, a smile on her pretty face. "How lovely to see you all again. You're early." She then frowned and neared the cart. "And who are you?" she asked Aiden, the friendly smile back in place.
"This is Aiden, Connor the potter's son, our neighbour, Headmistress Hufflepuff," Jayda put in. "Grandfather wrote a letter for you. He's already twelve, but he's magic."
"I see," Headmistress Hufflepuff said, the smile not wavering. "Then hand me that letter you speak of and I shall take Aiden inside. The cart and your horse shall be taken care of, per usual. I trust that you can get to your commons without my help?"
"Yes, Headmistress," they all chorused obediently and Jayda handed the woman the carefully folded and sealed parchment.
"Come with me, Aiden," the Headmistress said gently, putting a soft hand on his shoulder and guiding him up the stairs. "Your things will be brought in later, once we determine what to do with you. I am Headmistress Hufflepuff, one of the Heads of this establishment."
Aiden nodded, but did not trust himself to speak. He did not like implications of 'what to do with you'. It sounded foreboding.
Headmistress Hufflepuff led him up the stairs, through the front doors and into a fantastically huge hall, then up stairs, down halls, up more stairs, and then she stopped outside an elaborate, heavy door, which she opened, motioning him to enter behind her.
The inside room was a large chamber with a big, polished mahogany table at its center covered by parchments and books, scales, phials, inkpots and quills. There was a welcoming fire to one side, and a comfortable-seeming sitting corner to the other. Two men were seated there, one stroking a dark brown snake, his dark eyes shadowed, the other sipping tea distractedly, his mind obviously somewhere else. Next to the fireplace, holding a heavy book, knelt a woman in a grey dress.
"Weren't you going to help the children with their things, Helga?" the woman asked in a pleasant voice, her back still turned.
"I was," Headmistress Hufflepuff said. "But we have more important business to deal with. We have a new student. Rowena, Salazar, Godric, meet Aiden, a potter's son, the neighbour of old Mathuin."
All three turned raptor gazes to Aiden, and the poor boy wished nothing but to shrink and disappear. He had never been subject to such close scrutiny. He shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his feet.
"Aiden," she continued, "these are Headmistress Ravenclaw and Headmasters Gryffindor and Slytherin. Aiden here is twelve, but he is a Muggle born, so his parents did not know Hogwarts existed, not to mention magic." The way she said his heritage, whatever Muggle meant, made him think that there was something at work here that he did not know.
To Aiden, it felt like the temperature in the chamber dropped in an instant. He hazarded a peek at the assembled Heads, and his panic intensified tenfold. Headmaster Slytherin's eyes, shadowed up until then, blazed with an eerie light, and the look he directed at Aiden was less than friendly. Headmistress Hufflepuff, noticing that, said in the kindest voice she could muster "Aiden, dear, why don't you take a chair and settle over there at the corner. This might take a while. You may take a book from the bottom shelf - but not from those above it."
Not saying anything to her about not knowing how to read, Aiden did as he was told and occupied himself by examining a beautiful tapestry on the opposite wall.
"He is twelve. We accept students only at eleven," the tall, foreboding Headmaster Slytherin grounded almost as soon as Aiden sat down, his dark, blazing eyes making Aiden tremble with fear. Whatever the Headmaster's problem was, Aiden's age was certainly not it.
Aiden knew the man thought he was talking quietly, but his hearing had always been better than most people's. He stared hard at the tapestry, while doing his best to hear everything that passed between the four.
"Just say it, Salazar - will you?" Headmistress Hufflepuff spat. "A few years ago we would have accepted him at seventeen! You don't want him because he is Muggle born!"
"And what if I do?"
"Then you are a prejudiced pig and I see no reason to refuse this potter's son his magic education. I stand firm on this. I will accept him in my own House if needs be."
"That is for the Hat to decide," Headmaster Gryffindor said quietly, his voice rumbling, easily heard by the young boy.
Hat?
"The Hat?" Hufflepuff asked in surprise. "It's not completely functional yet, isn't it? And - wait. Are you ready to accept the boy?"
"Yes," he said, looking straight into the other man's eyes. "I am. He's magic, after all, and he will be the Hat's first try. It is finally time for us to try it. We're not getting any younger, you know."
Slytherin let out a hiss. "What about you, Rowena? What do you say?"
Headmistress Ravenclaw, who up until then was kneeling near the fireplace quietly, preferring to listen and not speak, got up and brushed her skirts. "Put the Hat on him," she said softly.
"Rowena-" Slytherin began.
"No, Salazar. When we built this school almost twenty years ago we said we will educate all those children of magic blood. Will you deny this boy his heritage?" she held his eyes for a long time before he looked away. "Put the Hat on him, Godric. Now, before we sort the other students, if the Hat will work as it should, perhaps next year we can put it to work. It would certainly make the sorting shorter."
"Yes, dear," Gryffindor said and removed a wide-brimmed hat from a shelf. He walked to Aiden who was still sitting demurely on the far side of the room, pretending not to have heard a word of the discussion. He handed him the hat. "Put this on, boy, and do not take it off until I say so."
Aiden nodded and put it on.
"A new head, is it?"the small voice in his ear nearly made him jump out of his skin. "Good. I get so tired of always reading Godric's mind. It gets boring after a while… but that's not why we are here, is it? I need to decide in which House you belong.
"Slytherin certainly wouldn't do, Salazar would have a fit and we can't have that. Now, Hufflepuff… you are loyal, but you are not a very hardworking boy, now are you? Always conveniently forgetting to do your chores… Helga would have none of that. So it's either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.
"You are brave, I'll give you that, to come here, not knowing anything, but what strikes me the most is how clever you are. I have made my choice. RAVENCLAW!"
The name ringing in his ears, Aiden felt the Hat being removed gently from his head. A pair of hazel eyes shone brightly at him.
"You're mine, then, boy," Ravenclaw said, a small smile quirking her lips. "I will be sending someone to show you around soon. Please wait outside."
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Aiden sat quietly on the stone floor just outside the room where the Headmasters conversed for a long time. He could hear their words clearly. They were still discussing the matter of his acceptance - though discussing may be the wrong word. Fighting would be a more accurate one.
The most vehement of the voices were those of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Gryffindor was adamant on treating him like all other students, but Slytherin maintained that Aiden should be sent back home, and that the sooner the better. They were shouting at each other, and at times the two women would add something in a loud voice to contradict something one of the men had said - Slytherin more often than not.
He had no idea what had Headmaster Slytherin had against him. The animosity in which he had addressed him was worse than anything the young boy had ever encountered. It was as though Aiden was the embodiment of everything the Headmaster had hated. He wondered if he would be able to change the man's opinion of him.
"Hello!" a cheerful voice startled him out of his brooding, breaking the muted mumble of the argument in the adjacent room. "You're Aiden, are you not?"
He turned around slowly to see a little girl only slightly shorter than him smiling brightly at him. She was wearing a pretty blue and red dress and had her long auburn hair flowing free to her waist. She had large blue eyes that twinkled with merriment.
"Yes," he affirmed softly. "Who are you?"
"I'm Ceridwen - but please call me Ceri, because Ceridwen is my grandmother and it gets so confusing. No one calls me Ceridwen anyway. I've been sent to keep you company and show you around. I'll be in your study group."
"Then you are twelve?"
She shook her head. "Eleven. They put you in the first years' group because you're a beginner like the rest of us."
"Oh. So where are we going?"
"Well, first I'll show you the Great Hall and the rooms in which the different lessons take place, and then I'll take you to the Ravenclaw quarters, where you will live for the rest of the year. Come on. It'll be fun - so stop looking so glum!"
Ceri was true to her word. She gave him a tour of the entire Castle, starting with the Great Hall, which was a huge chamber, right off the entrance hall. She told him that once it had been called the Council Hall, and then she started telling him of the great rebellion the Heads had led against an evil man named Ambrosius so many years before they were both born.
"Actually," she clarified, "the rebellion ended soon after I was born - but I was just a baby, and so was my brother. We don't remember anything about it, but Aunt Helga tells it was horrible, those last days. They were all sure they were going to die. Father hardly speaks of those days at all, but Mother tells everything, because she says it's the parents' duty to pass historic tales to their children. She values great knowledge, you know."
She continued telling him how her grandmother after whom she had been named pushed the Heads into a full out rebellion and how in the end it all turned out well. Then she led him around the Castle, whispering of secret passages and rooms within it, showing him classrooms, taking him up to the towers and ordering him which stairwells to avoid on what times. She gave him a shortened history of the school's existence, telling him of the Houses and the people that lived there. It was fascinating, he had to admit.
Ceri ended the tour up at the top of what she called the Star Reading Tower. "They teach star reading here," she explained the obvious. "Once a week at midnight. It's going to be my favourite class, because I love staying up late, and Mother rarely allows it. Ryan always gets to go to bed so much later than me. It isn't fair - he's not that much older than I am."
Aiden found her pout funny, but did not dare telling her that. Instead, he gazed at the magnificent view revealed from the tower. The sun was setting, big and red as it neared the horizon. The flat surface of the lake gleamed in the light, winking on and off at him. A dark forest was to one side, and rocks to the other. With a smile he decided that he was going to like his years in Hogwarts.
He then remembered something that he had wanted to ask, but did not know to whom he should point the question. "Back when I was where the Heads met, they put a hat on my head to decide where I should go. What is that hat? Why did they do it?"
She looked up from the view before them, her expression strangely delighted. "They've used the Hat on you?" she exclaimed. "That's wonderful! I thought they'd never complete it." At his look of confusion she smiled and elaborated. "They didn't found this school in order to have it closed once they… well, die. But then, they have very specific requirements on who would go into their own House, because each House focuses on something else. They've been pondering the problem of how to sort new students into the Houses in years to come, and this is what they came up with." She seemed strangely wistful at the idea that the Heads would one day die.
"A hat?"
"Not just a hat. It's the Hat. They've spelled it to have a mind of its own and an ability to see what one person has within their head. It can spot your most obvious characteristics, and then decided whether you belong in Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Slytherin. You, apparently, value knowledge more than anything else. That's why you've been put in Ravenclaw." Then she fell silent, a pensive mood suddenly enveloping her.
After a while in silence, she sighed. "I had better lead you to the quarters. The feast and the sorting will be starting in no time."
They walked in companionable silence through the labyrinthine halls of Hogwarts until she slowed to a stop.
"These are the Ravenclaw quarters," she said, nodding at a tapestry that covered an entire wall. The huge thing portrayed a young maiden standing by a unicorn, with her fingers burrowed within its mane.
"Where?" he asked in confusion, searching for a door.
"Right here," she said cheerfully, laughter brimming in her voice. "All you have to do is walk near and then I'll tell you the rest."
"Near what?"
"The tapestry, naturally!" she laughed. Then she walked towards the wall.
"Dear girl," the maiden in the tapestry said softly, making Aiden jump back several steps in alarm. The tapestry was talking. "You cannot enter the premises beyond without a password."
"Now listen carefully, Aiden," Ceri said slowly and deliberately. "Remember the words I say now, for whenever you wish to enter the Ravenclaw quarters you must speak the password." Then, to the maiden, she said "Aurora Grande."
The maiden smiled kindly, and in front of Aiden's wide-open eyes, the tapestry whisked itself aside and revealed an elaborate archway in the wall behind it, carved with a leaf design.
"Well?" Ceri urged him. "Go in. There will be someone within who will instruct you further. I shall see you tomorrow in class. Good night." She turned away and started walking in the direction they came from.
"Wait!" he called desperately after her, afraid to lose the one friend he had in the cold castle. "Aren't you staying?"
"What?" Ceri asked in surprise. "Of course not! I have my own room in Mother's and Father's quarters. I have to share with my brother, but it's still more comfortable than these rooms."
"With you parents? Then you stay in the village at night?"
"Of course not, silly!" she laughed. "I live in the Castle - always have."
"Who are you parents, then?" he asked, though he had a feeling that he actually knew the answer. As far as he knew, from listening to her stories, there was only one married couple inside Hogwarts.
"Headmaster Gryffindor and Headmistress Ravenclaw, of course!" she laughed again and waved him goodbye, running away.
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Hogwarts Castle was a whole new experience to Aiden. Back home he was the only son and therefore had many duties thrust on him. He had been expected to take his father's place in the pottery workshop one day and had spent his days labouring by the furnace, putting pots in and taking them out when the right time came. He had learned how to make pots with the level of skill required of such a well-known workshop and in some part of his mind he was really looking up to the day he would be a real craftsman, working in his own shop.
Back home he had also been expected to help with the housework and with the garden, doing many jobs that required physical strength and consisted of a lot of time spent in the open air.
Hogwarts was different. Here he spent most of his time indoors, painstakingly moving his unaccustomed hand in shapes he never knew possible, his muscles stiffening by the unfamiliar grip on the quill. He had broken many quills in his journey to learn reading and writing, but Headmistress Ravenclaw never seemed to give up on him, though her face did show her growing impatience. Ceri told him not to worry, that her mother was always like that. She would sit with him for hours after classes had ended, patiently explaining how this letter was formed or why he was supposed to use one letter instead of another.
His mind was practically bursting with the amounts of knowledge his teachers needed him to consume. Names of herbs, incantations for spells, historical facts and more, all swirling around his dazed mind. He never thought anything like this strange world he had stumbled upon ever existed.
With the help of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, he had crafted his own wand and could then join with the actual spell-casting. This proved to him beyond anything else that he was indeed different from all his peers back home, from his family and friends.
Gryffindor seemed to like him well enough. He certainly approved of the fact that Aiden did not seem to have any trouble wielding the practice sword he had given him in his first Phoenix Lore practical session. Hours working in the garden had apparently not been a complete waste.
It was Slytherin that seemed to have a constant problem with Aiden's mere existence. No matter what he did, the man hated him. He would be the harshest to him amongst all students, rewarding each failure in a hard punishment. Even among the Muggle-born Aiden was the one he most resented. Something about Aiden cankered his soul.
There were not many Muggle-born students in Hogwarts, but they soon sought Aiden out and warned him to never be alone in the corridors. They told him that he should always have at least one other person with him at all times while he was not in the commons. Preferably, a person of non-Muggle descent.
"But why?" he asked in bewilderment, staring at the earnest-looking girl sitting across from him in the Ravenclaw commons.
"Because they would hunt you down," she explained solemnly. "They would hunt you down and harm you."
"Who are they?"
"Slytherins, mostly. Some others who seem to think that Headmaster Slytherin has the right idea - but those are very rare. He doesn't like us Muggle-born. I don't know why, but the rumours say that a relative of his was killed by Muggles many years ago and that he throws the blame on anyone who's connected to them - which means us, the Muggle-born. They hex us when we're alone, and there were some cases of fistfights. Funny, that they abhor everything Muggle and then turn around and use fists on us."
Aiden simply stared at the girl, not believing that such things were possible. Jayda had said that he was going to have fun here, not that he was to fear for his life.
As weeks went by, however, he had his own opportunities to see exactly where things stood, and it was precisely what that girl had said. As luck had it, though, the ever-cheerful Ceri knew it was true as well, and stuck to him whenever outside of class. Her status, as the daughter of two of the Heads, protected him from the more violently-inclined blood-purists living in the Castle.
Soon enough, though, he realized that Ceri remained with him for more than one reason. When he had asked her why she was doing it, at first she was rather hesitant about answering, but then sighed and explained.
"I lived in this Castle my entire life, Aiden. I rarely went to the village, and when I did go there, it was always with Ryan to visit my Grandmothers. The only constant friend I had was Ryan, and I assume you know how embarrassing it is to tell people that your best friend is your brother. Don't get me wrong," she hurriedly waved her hand when she caught the surprised expression on his face. "Ryan is the best friend anyone could have asked for, but… he has his own friends - and I don't. You were nice to me, and you didn't mind that my father and my mother are the Heads. So unless you completely detest me, do you mind if I spend time with you?"
After that there was no question about it. He did not tell her that at the time, but her instant friendliness back in his first day of school had meant a lot to him, and he did not mind in the least to spend time in her company.
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Aside of the occasional attack on the few Muggle-born students who attended the Castle and the periodic loud arguments between Slytherin and Gryffindor, there were other things that made life at the Castle both exciting and alarming.
There were the walking and talking portraits and tapestries, that while they were few and far in-between, were still an amazing sight to behold. The ever-changing staircases, doors and rooms always seemed to catch him and the other first year children of Ravenclaw House by surprise, but Ceri was always there to laugh at them all and lead the right way. Aiden had the distinct feeling that she enjoyed seeing them get lost and that that was the reason behind not telling them they had taken the wrong turn.
As the months passed, however, that became easier and they spent less and less time on trying to find their way around. Ceri may have been a bit disappointed at that, but she found more ways to surprise, scare and laugh at the boys who had become her close companions.
Alan, she had told Aiden once the shy boy had finally plucked his courage and bashfully asked to sit with them over a noon meal, was one of the village boys, one of the many cousins of Rhian, Headmistress Hufflepuff's eldest, who was much too young to start learning yet, but still tagged along Ceri more than often. He never stopped feeling amazed at his friend's infinite-seeming patience with the girl.
Alan was a very nice boy, and once he had overcome his shyness, became so talkative that often the other two had to shush him.
Then there was Ansgar, who was from Cornwall - a burly, loud boy who had taken an immediate liking to Aiden and was the first to jump into the fray if his Muggle-born friend was in trouble with the Slytherin blood-purists. He also felt he had to play protector to the small and fragile-looking Ceri, who took it all in good grace, though she could not resist teasing their big friend about it.
The last of the group was Fingal. Fingal was a boy from the Scottish highlands. He had lived all his life in a big and boisterous clan, and was the first of its sons to go to the fabled school. He was a quiet boy, though not as shy as Alan. He also had a very sharp wit, and at times rivaled Ceri in hyperactivity.
Together the five friends studied, played and laughed. Aiden, who back home had been restricted to house and shop, never had such friends before. The few friends he had in the village were like him, sons of craftsmen who needed to help at home and shop, and so did not have much time. He only really had his siblings to play with, and as they were both girls, and ones who hated to get dirty at that, he never had the chance to run around and roll on the ground in play.
Ceri was different, however. Though Aiden heard many older girls comment on the fact that she had chosen to surround herself with boys and saw them looking snidely at his friend, Ceri was quite content to stay with them. When he asked her about it, she laughed at his tentative question.
"Come, now, Aiden!" she said, pulling on a mock-hurt expression. "You make it sound as though you boys don't want to have me around." And when he stuttered and tried to say that this was not what he meant to say at all, she burst out laughing and patted his shoulder consolingly. "I'm joking, Aiden. Really, I don't mind what those old hags say. If I want a girl's company - I have Rhian. It's really not that important. Does that take the worries off your mind?"
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"There you are, Aiden!" a girl's voice interrupted a friendly mock-fight between Fingal and Ansgar which Aiden and the other three were watching avidly, cheering alternately for both contestants.
Turning to see who was calling, Aiden recognized his neighbour's oldest granddaughter, Jayda, who looked short for breath. Raising his eyebrows in question, he waited for her to state her business.
"I was just talking with Headmistress Ravenclaw," Jayda said, her face concerned. "She said that you asked for permission to stay at the Castle during the summer."
Aiden shrugged. "So I did. Why?"
"Well, aren't you coming home with us?"
At this, the mock-fight stopped abruptly, and all four of Aiden's friends looked up at Jayda, surprised. Aiden himself stared at her, his mind refusing to process what had been said. Finally, his throat unstuck itself, and his voice came out. "Home? I'm not wanted at home," he said.
"But Grandfather said he'd be delighted to take you in, Aiden," the girl said in surprise. "Didn't you know? I thought he would have told you that. He needs the company and the help, and he would welcome you always. Won't you come?"
Aiden did not know what to say to that. Master Mathuin wanted him? When Jayda had said 'home', his mind immediately went to that pleasant house that contained all his childhood memories, with a loving father who told stories while they worked by the furnace in the shop, and a doting mother who pampered him and kissed him, and two annoying sisters whom he loved unconditionally. But then, that was not home anymore, now was it? He was not welcomed there anymore. He was unnatural, doing one hand with the Evil One. His parents did not want to be tainted with the same brush as he. He was no longer their son, as far as he knew. That was not home anymore.
Home was Hogwarts.
But he needed a place to stay in during the summer. Headmistress Ravenclaw had gently told him that it was not their custom to allow students to stay in the Castle during the months of summer. It was the point in the year when they finally had had time to devote themselves utterly to their families and they did not have time to look after a lone student. She had also said that if they had no other choice they would make arrangements for him to stay with a hospitable family in the Loch, but why could he not return home? At this question he had fallen silent and soon after asked to be excused.
And now this offer came out of nowhere. There was someone willing to welcome him into his home, and Master Mathuin was friendly enough, albeit weird - so why not?
He would go to a home this summer. It may not be his own home, but it would be good enough for Aiden.
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Though he had promised himself repeatedly that he would not go near the wall that marked the end of Master Mathuin's property, Aiden found himself drawn to it. There was nothing he could do. He felt so helpless, being pulled there against his will. He should have known better.
He was only a week in Master Mathuin's house, and already felt comfortable enough next to the kindly old man. Jayda was correct. Her grandfather really needed the company more than anything else. He was overjoyed at having someone at the house again, living there with him. He had lost his wife several years before, and though all his children lived a cart-drive distance away, he still felt lonely. He was also an awful cook, but that was beside the point.
In the first three days of his stay there, Aiden had kept to the house, solely to avoid being spotted by any member of his family happening to look into the neighbour's land. After those three days were gone, however, he could no longer stand being closed in a house anymore and therefore risked going out to the garden. For four days he had managed to rein in his desire to just peek over the wall and perhaps catch sight of his sisters, but finally it overcame him.
Cautiously creeping down the garden, he had his ear open to any strange noise that might betray his presence. At last he reached the wall, and carefully raised himself enough to see over the top.
It looked… so ordinary. Nothing had changed in the year he was gone. The tidy rows of vegetables were still there, still meticulously nurtured and pruned. The lines with the clean laundry put to dry stretched over them were still taut and straight as they had been when he had helped his mother arrange them two years before. The smoke from the chimney of the shop's furnace rose as pale as ever, and from where he was standing he could hear his mother's voice, singing as she made his father's noon meal.
Without any warning, tears started falling down Aiden's cheeks. Oh, how he wanted to be there with her, bringing in a fresh pail of milk! He wanted to sit in that warm kitchen with one of her delicious meals in front of him, to have her hug him and kiss him again and say that everything will be all right. He wanted to play with Aine and Aisling, tug their hairs and hide their things. He wanted…
"Aiden?"
Losing his footing in alarm, he fell to the ground with a painful smack to his rear. He had been spotted!
"Aiden!" Aine's voice repeated his name. "I know you're there! Aiden! Please come back!" And when he failed to comply, his heart hammering in his chest, he could hear his eldest sister sprinting into the house, calling "Mama! Mama! I just saw Aiden!"
Terrified, Aiden ran back into Master Mathuin's house, into his room and under the quilt on his bed. He was not sure of what he was afraid. He was certain that Aine, and certainly his mother would not do anything to harm him, but as for Father… He felt like he had never known his father. He was not sure what his reaction would be when he finds out that Aiden had returned.
For the next week he had adamantly refused to leave the house. It was only when Einri had appeared late into the first month of summer that he had reluctantly agreed to go outside. The older boy had come over to help his grandfather with his small field behind the house, and had virtually dragged Aiden outside in order to have help. As noon crept on them, Einri put down his tools and looked down at Aiden, who was on his knees, pulling out weeds.
"Have you visited your family, yet?" he asked quietly.
Aiden kept his eyes firmly on the ground. "No, and I don't intend to."
"Why not?" the usually taunting boy asked with a true note of concern in his voice.
"Because I'm not wanted there," Aiden replied shortly and, wiping the dirt on his hands over the coarse trousers he was wearing, picked himself up, not meeting Einri's eyes.
"I see. Not wanted here and not wanted there. Stuck in the middle. I'm glad I'm not in your place. But… Aiden?" Einri's voice was gentle. "If you need someone to talk to this summer - you know, someone more or less your age? I'm just half an hour away. Feel free to come, and maybe we can go fishing or something? I know good places around here."
For the first time in weeks, Aiden smiled. He was grateful for that offer, and at that moment, was determined to act upon it.
There were several other close escapes that summer. He had ventured a few more times to the wall, and was almost caught by his sisters three times and by his mother once. Father never seemed to go into the back garden. All this while he wrote letters to his friends, commandeering Master Mathuin's owl for that purpose. Admittedly, Ceri got most of those letters, but he did make sure not to leave his other friends out.
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Things at Hogwarts over the next year became quite heated. The resentment between some of the Slytherins and the Muggle-born was still high, but that also caused further deterioration in the relationship of Slytherin and Gryffindor. A rather glum Ceri told Aiden about endless fights late into the night when the four Heads thought that Ryan and her were fast asleep. Everyone's tempers were becoming shorter with each passing month. She even admitted that her parents were often at odds about this thing or that, and that sometimes she could hear her mother crying at night, when she thought no one was listening.
Aiden could see that she was more worried about her mother than about her father. When he gently questioned her about it, she said that her mother was so strong and stern, that when she fell apart, it scared Ceri more than anything. He had to agree with that explanation. He could never see Headmistress Ravenclaw in tears. It was… unnatural.
The rivalry between the two men who headed the school became so much worse as their Houses seemed to start finding excuses to hex each other or waylay one another in the corridors. Suddenly it was not just blood-purists versus Muggle-born. It was now Muggle-born supporters versus blood-purists, and that fact dragged the entire school into a multidirectional war.
While at classes things only boiled under the surface, the students behaving under their teachers' sharp eyes, once they were over, fights broke all over the Castle, often ending with multiple injuries and very angry Heads. It seemed as though everyone was picking sides in this fight, and only very few remained at the sidelines.
Ceri had told her friends that her mother and her Aunt Helga were very worried about this, but ever they, great friends as they were, seemed to disagree about the way in which this had to be taken care of, and fought often these days. She was on the verge of tears while telling them this, and none of the boys knew how to calm her. Eventually Aiden, as the oldest of them all, wrapped his arms around her and held her until she calmed down sufficiently. After that she had avoided him for three whole days, never telling him the reason why. Those days left him somewhat confused and worried. It was then that he realized just how far little Ceri had wormed into his heart, and he keenly felt her absence.
In the meanwhile, classes were becoming gradually harder. Being of the second year group, their teachers expected more from them. To Aiden, every new spell was a surprise, something to appreciate and bask in. Every new aspect of magic he had learned made his depression at the possibility that he would never be part of his family again abate by little. The possibilities magic opened to him made him wonder how he was ever afraid of coming here.
Jayda had been right. He enjoyed every minute in the Castle, and to him - to him Hogwarts was home.
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The cart stopped in front of Master Mathuin's house. The cheerful banter between Aiden and Einri still filled the noon air. The two would never be best of friends, but they were friendly enough. It was hard not to when they spent all their time together during the summer, working together in Einri's grandfather's field.
Suddenly, Einri stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes widening.
"What?" Aiden chuckled. "Kneazle got your tongue?"
"N-no…" Einri mumbled. "Aiden, isn't that your father?"
Aiden whirled around and felt his eyes grow as wide as Einri's. There, right beside the wall dividing Master Mathuin's property from that of the pottery workshop and his family's home stood his father, a hat in his knotted hands. He was decidedly nervous.
"Excuse me," Aiden softly said to the other children on the cart. With that he lightly leaped off it and slowly, deliberately walked towards his father. As he drew near, the older man took an involuntary step backwards. Aiden stopped, feeling cold inside. His father was actually afraid of him.
"Did you want something?" he asked bluntly, not uttering a word of greeting. He made sure not to stand too close.
"I…" his father began, then his shoulders slumped. "Hello, Aiden."
"That's it? That's all you wanted? You just came to say hello?" He found it hard to keep the bitterness away from his words.
"No, I - I came to see if…" the man's voice died as he looked up at his son that he had not seen in four years with what could be described at best as a hopeful expression.
Aiden meant to ask "If what?" but the words would not come out.
Father and son stood in ominous silence, not quite looking at one another. Aiden knew his fellow students would be waiting to help him with his things into Master Mathuin's house, but he did not look back or turn away from his father. The man was here for a reason, and damned be he if he would let that reason slip away from him.
"So… Aiden…" his father finally started after a long time, playing with his hat. "Would you… would you…"
"Would I what?" asked Aiden - who finally got a measure of control over his own voice - in what he hoped was a cold, detached tone, fearing whatever it was that his father was about to ask.
"Would you like to come home with me? Your mother misses you and…" the older man gulped. "So do I."
Aiden simply stared at his father. At fifteen - almost sixteen, at that - he was already taller than the man, and his extensive sword training developed his body magnificently. He had also learned to stare from Ceri during long wintry nights when there was nothing better to do, and his friend had learned it from her mother. It was very effective, as every student of Hogwarts could attest. He could not believe that his father would ask such a thing after four years of silence.
Four years of being away from home, away from his mother and sisters, away from everything he had known as home, and now the man came up with that question.
When his father finally started twitching under his incredulous stare, he sighed and voiced the question that was on his mind. "Why? You've completely ignored my existence for almost four years. I've been living at Master Mathuin's ever since I was twelve. You hate me for what I am. Why would you want me back?"
His father bit his lower lip. "We never hated you, Aiden. Were we to hate you, you would have been dead the minute Master Mathuin approached us. All of you would have. It just… took us time to adjust."
"Four years?" Aiden growled, disbelief etched on his every feature. "It had taken you four years to adjust? You've missed four years of my life, Father! What do you know of me? Do you know who my friends are? Do you know what I do with my life? No! You don't! You've completely severed yourselves from me! What do you expect me to say?"
"I expected you to say… yes."
Aiden sank to the ground. "I don't know, Father. I really don't know. I got so used to be by myself in the past few years and having you welcome me back all of a sudden…"
He buried his head in his hands, his mind bursting with questions. After all this time - four whole years where Aiden had spent his summers sneaking cautious peeking over the wall in an attempt to feel even a little close to his old family, hiding once spotted - now he wanted him back? Now, after Aiden had finally resolved to never get near that wall again and live happily and contently with his new adoptive family? He could not believe the man.
This man, this Muggle, who had sired him, knew nothing at all about his life, knew nothing about who he was now. He had known him as a little boy, but so much had changed since then! They were complete strangers as far as Aiden was concerned.
Again, he repeated the only word he could pronounce in relative calm. "Why?" he asked.
"Because we love you, Aiden. Always have - always will."
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At first Aiden was reluctant to go back. He had left his father standing by the wall, saying he had to think about it. Then he had entered Master Mathuin's kitchen and miserably buried his face in his hands again, his elbows on the scrubbed table.
It was then that Master Mathuin gave him a piece of advice that he could not ignore.
"They are your family, my dear boy," the old man said quietly, putting a gnarled old hand on his shoulder. "They are your family, and even though I could see that you were doing your best to cut yourself off and forget them, I know that it is impossible to do so. You still love them, Aiden, and that is the most important thing in the world. It is this love that can make everything all right again. You may never forget the scars they had given you by sending you away and ignoring your existence, but you can forgive, and give second chances. In the end, it is your choice, but I would like you to at least try. If it does not work out, then you are always welcome here. Now go. Go back to your family."
And so, with great doubts in mind, but with determination to make Master Mathuin proud, Aiden, Connor the potter's son, squared his shoulders, and prepared himself to meet his family once more. There would be no more chances after this one. This was his only opening to amend things. He would make them all proud. He would show them all.
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"Aiden! Hand me that bit of clay - would you?"
Connor the potter had been working in his workshop since daybreak and demanded that Aiden would do the same. That was the reason why the young man was standing next to the huge furnace all day, keeping it hot, pulling baked pots out and putting fresh ones in, sweating profusely. It felt good to once again do the job he had trained for years before he had been accepted into Hogwarts. The familiar strain on his shoulders was somehow comforting.
"Here," he breathed, tossing the wet chunk his father's way.
"Thank you. So you said I don't know anything about your friends and your life," his father said with a tired smile, his eyes never leaving the clay shaping under his fingers. "Would you like to tell me?"
Aiden smiled a covert smile and said "Well, first of all, they are all younger than me-"
"Why?" his father demanded sharply. "Don't you get along with your age group?"
Aiden noticed his father's protectiveness and felt his smile widen. It was something he had sorely missed in the years of separation. "No, no. I get along fine with them, whenever I do meet them, but when I started school I was a year late, so the Heads put me with the younger year - the one just starting. I don't mind being eldest - it brings certain prestige among the others…"
Then he told his father about Alan, Ansgar and Fingal, and how they were his best friends. He told him about midnight escapades, and magical jokes played on fellow students, about lessons taken and secret journeys into the nearby forest and close escapes from the beasts within. He told him about creative punishments from Headmaster Gryffindor, mild ones from Headmistress Hufflepuff, difficult ones from Headmistress Ravenclaw and harsh ones from Headmaster Slytherin. He told him everything, hiding little, and what he did hide, he surmised would not hurt the older man.
It was such a relief to share these things with someone who found it new and exciting, and not someone who knew all about it, sometimes much better than Aiden did. It was also the first father-son experience he had had in years. It was just like old times all over again, and now that his family had accepted him for what he was, he knew that this would not be the last time.
Inside the workshop he felt at home again.
"You're hiding something from me, aren't you?" his father asked shrewdly after a long pause. "It's a girl, isn't it? Who is she?"
Aiden gaped at this father, Never in his life had he been so shocked. He never expected his father of all people to recognize the emitted mention of the girl who was the center of his world for as long as he had been a student at Hogwarts. He was certain he had hid it so well. "M…my best friend," he stammered, looking down at his feet. He had never been so embarrassed and yet so thrilled in his entire life.
"Ah."
He could hear his father smirk. Somehow the wheel had turned, and he was no longer the one with the upper hand.
"And does this… best friend have a name?" the man asked slyly, attempting to coax something further out of him.
Aiden cheeks grew red. He realized that his father did not have too many opportunities to embarrass one of his children. His two sisters, Aine and Aisling, were far too old or too young for it, and his mother, Donella, had long since taken a very cynical approach to anything his father had to say. "Ceri," he whispered, his eyes still determinedly fixed on the floor.
"Ceri?"
"Ceridwen Gryffindor. The Headmaster and Headmistress' daughter," his father had to lean closer to hear these words, he could barely allow them to leave his mouth.
The older man started laughing. "You don't go small, do you, my boy? Is she pretty?"
Aiden closed his eyes. Was Ceri pretty? Was little Ceri pretty? With her wavy dark-auburn hair falling to her waist, untamed but so soft? With her large blue, almond-shaped eyes, always twinkling happily and mischievously? Was she pretty?
"No," he said. "She's not pretty. She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
His father smiled. His smile told Aiden everything he needed to know.
The rest of the summer passed almost too quickly for Aiden's liking. He was outside almost every day, helping Einri in Master Mathuin's fields like always, spent hours by the furnace, helping his father, went for long walks with his sisters to the secret places they had loved so much as little children and helped his mother around the house.
During the past three summers he had missed doing all that. He had always been heart-broken not to see any member of his small family. Now it was all back in place and he was happy again. Only one thing he found lacking. There were only a few owls from Ceri that summer. It was as though she tactfully decided he needed time with his family after he had sent her that letter telling her everything about their reconcilement. He still very much missed her cheerful letters telling him all about what went on in the halls of Hogwarts when no student was around.
It was, therefore, quite easy for him to say goodbye to his family at the end of summer when it was time for him to climb once again onto the cart and travel to another year at the Castle. As much as he loved them and was gratified to have them once again at his side, he found that he sorely missed his best friend, and that he could not wait to see her again. And so he hugged them for the last time until the next summer and did not turn back.
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Seeing the Castle looming ahead, Aiden started almost bouncing in his seat among the other children. He felt as though they would never reach there. His hands fiddled with the straps closing the carefully padded satchel containing this year's tribute of pots of his father's manufacture.
"Would you calm down?" Einri asked with an amused quirk of his eyebrow. "I'm sure your lovely girl will be waiting for us like she always does. You will see her in no time."
"Don't know what you're talking about," Aiden denied, though his reddening cheeks gave him away.
"Right," Einri smirked, but said nothing for the rest of the journey.
True to his friend's word, as the cart pulled to as stop in front of the stairs leading up to the Castle, the small figure of Ceri Gryffindor came hurtling down the steps. Behind her the stately Headmistress Ravenclaw descended to greet them at a more leisurely pace.
"Ceri!" Aiden cried, ignoring the others' knowing grins, jumped from the cart and hurried towards his friend.
"Aiden!" she squealed and threw herself into his arms. He could not help but notice that during the summer months she had developed quite a bit. She was no longer a little girl. He shook those guilty thoughts from his mind, feeling like a perverted man. She was his friend, he insistently told himself, nothing else, and if that was not enough - her stern mother was standing right behind them.
"How was your summer?" she asked enthusiastically after finally letting go, getting hold his hand and pulling him past her mother and up the stairs.
"Pretty much eventless," he said, having trouble not staring at the way interesting things moved beneath the fabric of her gown. "I helped Father at the workshop, haven't been caught performing magic - though there was that one close call with the village priest-"
"Aiden!" she scolded. "You should know better than that!"
"I know," he shrugged. "It was fun though. I turned the old coot's kettle into a toad. He couldn't find the thing and nearly had a seizure when the toad jumped on his table. Pity he hadn't. Then I wouldn't have had to listen to all his lectures about the wickedness of witchcraft. What did you do?"
"Nothing, really. Ryan hexed me, I hexed him, we both hexed Father, all of us got hexed by Mother - the usual."
Aiden always marveled at how different the real Gryffindor-Ravenclaw family was from the image it had. The things that Ceri told him about what really went on when the rest of the students were not around were absolutely amazing. It was a hectic household where everybody loved everybody fiercely and without restraints, yet made fun of each other constantly.
"Mother said that there will be a new teacher coming this year - to replace Aunt Helga in Runes. Aunt Helga says she can't go on grading both Runes and Study of Magical Creatures, what with that and the rest of her additional projects. She hasn't got enough time for her children-"
"And now that she's with child again…" he finished for her.
"I overheard Mother and Aunt Helga the other day," she said with a secretive expression on her face. "Mother said that either it is the last baby, or she castrates Uncle Ilar. She said that even for witches it's hard to bear a child at Aunt Helga's age."
Aiden had always been impressed with Headmistress Ravenclaw's use of vocabulary. It was so… inspiring.
"So who's the new teacher?"
"Some old man from London. I think he was once a Knight, but I can't prove it and Father will not tell me a thing…"
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Aiden could not help but think about Ceri at every waking moment. She was an obsession to him, her face floating in the back of his mind at all times. His friends teased him about his dreaminess, and Einri, whenever the older boy passed him in the halls, gave him knowing looks. It reached a point where he did not know if he could handle it anymore.
He blamed it all on Einri, anyway. His father and Einri, really. They were the ones who had planted the notion that he might look at her differently than just a friend in the first place. They did so with sly remarks, knowing smiles and chuckles, making him double-check every thought that had crossed his mind.
It was almost reluctantly that he had admitted to himself that there might be a grain of truth in their words, but that did not stop him from glaring at his friend whenever he gave him the wink.
He soon found himself staring at Ceri whenever she was around him, assessing her figure, considering her fair face, looking deep into her eyes. And every time he caught himself doing so, he would blush and shake himself violently, leaving Ceri looking at him curiously. Sometimes she could be so oblivious.
His brain screamed at him constantly, berating him for his untoward thoughts, beating him mentally whenever he considered her lips. She was fourteen - a baby! She… she… Aiden gulped. She was so beautiful.
They were closeted at the top of North Tower in the low-ceilinged circular room one day, sitting close to each other. Today she was wearing a simple green velvet gown, given to her by her Aunt Helga. It proved beyond doubt that she was no longer a little girl, complimenting the figure she had developed during the summer months.
His throat felt parched and he edged closer to her on the padded divan.
"-and this symbol here is supposed to be pronounced gahk - Aiden, are listening to me?" she looked up at him, one of her eyebrows quirked in question. It had then occurred to him that she had been talking for the past hour or so and none of what she had said had been processed by his dazed mind.
"What?" he asked, his head feeling wooly. "Oh. Yes, yes."
"You weren't!" she rightfully accused, irritably pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "And you have a smudge on your face. Here, spit," she handed him her handkerchief.
Obediently, he did.
One of her small hands took hold of his chin, and she pulled his face closer, rubbing the smudge on his cheeks.
She was so close…
"There," she said, satisfied, and let got of him. "Good as new."
He never knew what possessed him to do it. He caught her hand and pulled her to him. Her strangled "Aiden!" went unnoticed as he kissed her tenderly.
He had expected her to pull away. He had expected her to slap him for his insolence. He did not expect her to kiss him back. But she did. She was so young, but suddenly it did not matter anymore. Ceridwen Rhiannon Rosalind Helga Ravenclaw Gryffindor returned his feelings, and that made everything all right again.
In the months that had followed, the two could be found more than often together in secluded corners. Of course, they did their best to avoid being found, but that was beside the point. Aiden was not sure which one of them was the one to start the secrecy issue, but he was more than inclined to admit that it was probably him. He was scared to death of Ceri's brother. Ryan was a tall, muscular young man, and he always kept an eye on his little sister. He had long ago accustomed himself to her friendship with Aiden, but Aiden was certain that he would not look auspiciously on the development in that relationship.
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Aiden was going to be late for class. He just knew he was. How could he have allowed himself to fall asleep was beyond him, and how Ansgar or Alan or Fingal did not wake him was even further beyond. He was probably too tired from the extensive sword training they had before noon meal and the other three could not wake him. Either way, Headmistress Ravenclaw would not look at his tardiness favourably.
Hurrying along, he did not notice the distraught Ceri before his friend had knocked into him, sending him flying a small distance away.
"Oh, Aiden!" she burst, seeing who it was she had walked into. "You have to help me! I don't know what to do! Please!" There was a note of panic in her voice and her hands flailed about uncontrollably.
"Ceri! What is the matter?" he asked in surprise as the girl caught his arm blindly and started pulling him, her expression frightened.
"It's Uncle Salazar!" she wailed. "He and Father are fighting! What should I do? What should I do, Aiden?" she asked, tears in her eyes.
Helpless, he allowed her to pull him to the Entrance Hall, where they came just in time to witness the volatile ending of the two Heads' fight.
Can you guess what happens next? I'm sure you can! Thank you again to all those who reviewed, and to the ones who gave me cookies and flowers for last chapter ;) much obliged.
This is it for this time, my friends. Next update is next Tuesday (like clockwork! If I can make it, that is…), Hope to see you all there!
Hugs and kisses to you all!
Star of the North