Brooklyn followed his friends outside, feeling a little better after his conversation with Tom Riddle and the fresh wind blowing in his face. He just hoped that in time, Mrs. Weasley would trust him again.

He looked over to see the doofus, Gilderoy Lockhart with Professor Sprout the Herbology teacher. He had gotten acquainted with her one time last year. She seemed quite jolly and enjoyed getting her hands dirty when doing Herbology.

They were looking at the tree that they hit yesterday, with its branches now in slings.

Brooklyn quickly continued with his friends, praying that Lockhart wouldn't see him, but too late. He came towards them, smiling a large smile that showed off his white teeth, wearing turquoise robes today.

"Oh, hello there!" he called. Brooklyn groaned silently as he glowered at the professor, who was oblivious to his hate of him.

"Just showing Professor Sprout here the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow!"

Ah, so that's what that monster tree is called, Brooklyn noted to himself, looking over at the tree again, its arms in slings. He would have to ask Tom Riddle when the tree was planted later.

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" Sprout announced, also giving Lockhart a cold look. Brooklyn grinned. At least he and Harry weren't the only ones who hated this goofball of a human!

Lockhart then requested Sprout to let Harry be a few minutes late, but Brooklyn responded to this by hissing sharply at Lockhart, making him jump a few feet in the air, his hat falling off as he ran for the hills.

The brothers hi-fived one another at Brooklyn's success at scaring him as Harry went in, Sprout asking Brooklyn to wait outside.

Brooklyn watched from the window, seeing them all having a lesson on Mandrakes, strange ugly baby living roots (literally, they looked like human babies) as they gave off a high-pitched squeal when being taken out of the dirt. Brooklyn almost had to suffer the rest of the class by trying to block out the noise until Sprout noticed and gave him ear covers.

Classes and patrols continued on as usual along with the new addition of chatting with Tom Riddle. He even one day visited Hagrid while on his patrol break, who showed Brooklyn his new big pumpkins.

"Wow, they're getting big!" Brooklyn commented as he measured one that was almost his size.

"Yeah, been givin' them a bit o' help. Look forward to carvin' faces for Halloween next month!" Hagrid said proudly, while fingering his pink umbrella he had with him. Brooklyn raised his brow but decided not to question it. Hagrid also showed off some healthy new roosters he had gotten recently, too, before Brooklyn decided to head back to check on Harry, waving goodbye.

He took the time to tell Tom about his adventures in Hogwarts, even when during some moments where Tom got a little weird, like when he asked about Hagrid's chicken coop.

The chickens are healthy enough; he got five new roosters. Why do you ask, Tom?

No reason. Am surprised that Hagrid is still here and gamekeeper. We were also at school together. Did you mention me to him?

Brooklyn found himself shaking his head.

Uh, I didn't, I haven't told anybody about you at all. Why?

Because me and Hagrid haven't exactly been on best terms. I really don't want to discuss what had happened between us. Tom's words replied.

Okay, I won't mention you to Hagrid then.

Thank you, Brooklyn, it's nice to know that you understand.

Brooklyn smiled, happy that he found Tom Riddle to talk with when Harry was in classes. Sure, he could talk to some others like Hagrid, but this felt the best place to be when writing down his troubles and receiving advice right back on the pages.

But Brooklyn now had a problem: all new nightmares arrived to mess with him, just as he thought the old ones from the mirror were done. But the realm of nightmares didn't seem to want to leave Brooklyn alone.

The first one had been of attacking and strangling roosters at night, then waking seeing rooster feathers and blood on his bedsheets, giving him a small panic attack that early morning, for he didn't expect this to happen. It was new and scary.

Am I going crazy or something? The gargoyle thought nervously after cleaning the mess on his bed with the cleaning spell Hermione showed him how to do earlier. Thankfully, Harry and the others hadn't noticed when they woke. He didn't want Harry to freak out over this. His memories of it usually were blank after he woke up from them, but Tom was always there to help him calm down.

But other than all that, Ron kept having more trouble with his wand, as during Transfiguration one day, it kept shooting off sparks, even when they tried Spellotaping it.

He kept thwacking his wand against the table at lunch furiously.

"Stupid, useless thing!"

"Maybe you should write home for another?" Brooklyn suggested. But Ron shook his head.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back! It's your own fault your wand got snapped!" He grumbled, glaring at his wand that was now hissing like a firework.

Harry quickly changed the subject. "What's next on our schedule?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione immediately said. Brooklyn raised his brow. Hermione looked like she had a bit of color in her cheeks. Don't tell him-ugh! Did she really have a crush on this guy, too?

Ron seized her schedule. "Why, have you outlined all of Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Brooklyn facepalmed himself in the forehead, his stomach going nauseous again as Hermione snatched her schedule back, blushing even more.

He reluctantly tagged along with them to Defense Against the Dark Arts, where it would seem that all Lockhart had to teach them was how not to set strange little fairy creatures called Pixies loose. They wreaked havoc in the classroom, two of them lifting Neville and having him hang from the chandelier and making Lockhart run for it again, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione to stop them on their own.

Hermione managed to freeze the Pixies with a clever freezing charm (Brooklyn decided to write down that spell to learn later). He rescued Neville by jumping up onto the chandelier and gliding him down to safety.

Neville was overly thankful for his rescue.

The group left, Ron looking furious.

"Can you believe him?" Brooklyn had to agree.

"It's his class, he's supposed to be the one to manage things!" He growled, now wondering if this supposed hero had even accomplished anything like he said he's done!


The week flew by, and it was finally Friday. Brooklyn had spent most of the week writing back and forth with Tom Riddle, telling him all about what had been happening, especially Lockhart and his nightmares.

One day on Thursday, he teamed up with the twins to pull a prank on Lockhart by having the twins pretending to want autographs, then Brooklyn came out from the shadows, scaring him again, making Lockhart's hair stand up on end and scream. The three of them had a good laugh over their success and Brooklyn told Tom about their little prank the next day, which Tom enjoyed hearing about.

Yeah, he deserves it. But what about my nightmares, Tom? And the rooster feathers? This isn't normal, the nightmares don't feel normal, and I should be able to remember them!

Just do the best to calm yourself, and it is probably better off for you to not remember. For the feathers, perhaps a stray chicken came from Hagrid's place and made a mess on your bed while you were asleep.

I'll try that, thank you, Tom. Let's hope your stray chicken theory is correct, too!

Anything for a friend, Brooklyn.

He then remembered that Harry had Quidditch practice.

Gotta go. I need to catch up with Harry and his team to watch them practice!

See you later, enjoy yourself!

Brooklyn closed the diary and made his way out, just managing to catch up with the Quidditch team making their way to the pitch.

Harry smiled. "Hey!" he called.

Brooklyn nodded his head in Harry's direction as he walked alongside him.

Suddenly, things got bad as Brooklyn saw a wave of green, the Slytherin team. He growled as Flint strode up confidently to them.

"Where do you think you're going, Flint?" Wood asked sharply. Flint just smirked. "Quidditch practice."

Brooklyn stepped up. "I wouldn't. Wood has already booked the field, so take your guys and clear off, or the team will be late!"

Flint brandished a letter. "I wouldn't be so sure, Freak Job. Got a note."

Wood took the letter and read it.

"I, Professor Severus Snape, give the Slytherin Team permission to practice today to train their new Seeker."

Brooklyn had a bad feeling in his gut. This was trouble. "And who is this new Seeker?" he demanded.

Two of the beaters moved to the side, revealing the brat of the century, Draco Malfoy. No way!

"You?" Brooklyn snarled; eyes glowing. Harry was open mouthed. Malfoy grinned maliciously. "That's right. Got a problem, Freak?"

Brooklyn was now getting tired of them calling him a freak, but all he could do was just glower at the brat. Hermione and Ron had joined them and noticed the new brooms that the team was holding. Brooklyn then recognized the one he saw in the Quidditch shop.

"Those are Nimbus 2001s! How did you get those?" Ron exclaimed, completely shocked. Flint looked down at Ron as though he were nothing but a pesky bug.

"A gift from Draco's father," he sneered. Brooklyn rolled his eyes. So it would seem that old Lucius was at it again, eh?

Malfoy stepped near Ron. "You see, Weasel, unlike some, my father can afford the best!"

Brooklyn towered over him. "You should know that you don't need money to be famous," he snapped. Hermione joined him.

"Yeah, the Gryffindor team didn't have to buy their way in! They got in on pure talent!"

Malfoy moved in closer to her.

"Nobody asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!"

Brooklyn immediately knew that Malfoy had said something bad because everybody on the Gryffindor team freaked. Anger blinded his vision as Alicia shrieked, "How dare you?!" And Ron pulled out his wand, glaring hard.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!"

The gargoyle tried to stop him, but it was too late as a green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sent him flying back onto the ground.

"Ron!" yelled Brooklyn as he and his friends ran over to him. Ron was struggling to stand, a hand over his stomach. Brooklyn moved away as suddenly, he belched out green slugs.

The Slytherin team was doubled up in laughter, Malfoy hanging onto his broomstick for support.

Harry, Brooklyn, and Hermione helped Ron to his feet. There was a flash of light and Colin Creevey appeared, taking unnecessary pictures.

"Wow! Can you turn him around, Harry?"

Harry looked irritated. "No, Colin! Get out of the way!"

Hermione and Harry both took Ron with them to Hagrid's hut, where his enormous pumpkins were sitting and waiting for Halloween. Brooklyn lagged behind, not wanting to go inside to watch Ron puke slugs. He told Harry he would see him later, and went back up to the castle, that word Mudblood remaining etched in his memory. He figured it wouldn't hurt to ask Tom about what it meant.

Figuring it was better than wondering, Brooklyn pulled his diary out again after returning to the dormitory.

Hi, Tom.

Hey, Brook, what's up? Something seems to be troubling you.

You can say that. Our rival, Malfoy, called one of my friends, Hermione a Mudblood. And I'm not sure what that means. But it was obviously really bad. Everybody on Harry's Quidditch team freaked.

That doesn't sound very nice of Malfoy to insult your friend. Here, witches and wizards born into non-magical families were quite prejudiced back then, and one of those popular insults was that word. And there were those who were all wizard families that saw themselves as Purebloods. But I myself was an orphan. My mother was a witch, and my father was a Muggle, who left my mother when she was giving birth to me. She died after I was born.

Brooklyn himself was disgusted that a father would abandon his son and wife like that, especially during childbirth. He still remembered that day when Oberon tried to take Fox's child away because he was magical. At least his father, Xanatos wasn't terrible enough to leave his son, like Tom's father was.

I'm sorry about your parents. The humans I knew in Manhattan sometimes used pretty bad words to hurt each other. I already met Hermione's parents in Diagon Alley, but this was one new word I never heard to describe her blood status.

Maybe one day you can ask your friend about that.

Yeah, though I might wait for a bit, for this could seem personal for her, Brooklyn replied back, really not wanting to get tangled up in new prejudicing in this realm. They continued to talk until Brooklyn spotted the sun beginning to set already, wondering where the time went. He felt rather tired, but strangely enough not hungry since it was dinner and Harry was probably eating with the others before his detention.

Going to try and sleep now, but I am willing to write to you some more tomorrow, Tom.

Okay then, try to have good dreams, Brooklyn!

Brooklyn got himself under the covers, closing his eyes and curling up on his pillow.

...

Brooklyn was running through strange tunnels on all fours, panting heavily as he tried to escape, hitting dead ends wherever he went, for it was another dream, another bad one. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Why couldn't the nightmares leave him be?

Help me! I'm lost, I can't get out! Brooklyn thought in panic, staring around at the terrible slimy walls, rats scurrying everywhere. A blood curdling voice suddenly spoke all around.

Come... come to me... let me rip you, let me kill you... rip... tear... kill...

He jumped at how menacing the voice sounded, backing up against a wall, glancing about to who was speaking in that devilish voice, which seemed to come from the walls all around him.

Blood! I smell BLOOD! Let me rip you!

Opening his eyes again, he gasped at the deadly yellow eyes that felt as though they were burning his very soul. The shadowy demon then lunged, its fangs going for Brooklyn as his mouth opened in a silent scream, the demon's voice hitting hard against his eardrums.

Kill! Kill! KILL!

...

Brooklyn shouted out loud, waking from his new dream, shaking all over and gripping his sheets, trying to remember it, but nothing, which scared him even more that what he probably dreamed about. All he could remember was a disembodied hissing voice that still seemed to ring in his head, and he closed his eyes, taking in steady breaths.

Harry had been woken up as well, but it was from hearing his brother scream. He watched Brooklyn in concern, who looked pretty shaken up, but not physically hurt, thankfully. He hadn't seen Brooklyn for most of the late afternoon and evening after detention, which kept him past bedtime. Hearing a disembodied voice didn't help, either. When he found Brooklyn, the gargoyle was already passed out in sleep and decided to stay with him and turn in himself, to make sure he was alright.

"You okay?" he asked. Brooklyn jumped slightly, but he gave Harry a smile, to try and say he was perfectly fine.

"It was nothing, just another nightmare. But it'll be fine, I'm... fine." I just want these nightmares to go away, Brooklyn thought, holding his blanket close to his chest.

But Harry now wondered if Brooklyn really was and wished he could help him.