Giddy Brew
Chapter 19: The Boy Who Would Have Lived
A/N: It's January at Hogwarts, and the romance seems to have peaked. Good, I'm sick of the mush. Not that this is the end. Oh no, we've got sixteen chapters of disgustingly sappy WAFF to go. But, now it gets to be angsty mush, and we all know how much Jondy loves angst.
So, for anyone who was confused by the goings on of the last chapter, join the club. I have no idea why Orpheus turned into a jackass, but I'm sure I'll explain when I figure it out. Poor Orpheus, lusting after Cerulean. wink wink Go read Wicked, soon to be renamed, which is a seven part drabble series about their forbidden love. Er, and some other peoples. Um, yeah, and it contains spoilers for the end of Giddy Brew, but not for Rancid, the sequel. Sequels, ugh. My bad.
Mostly a silly, fluffy chapter. Ain't they all? Makeover fun and slight plot development.

News of Polaris Morgan's announcement spread like wildfire through the school, one of the highlights of the big party, right up there with the fact that Orpheus Vaughn had been turned into a piglet and Patricia Connery's engagement to a first year (which the former denied whole heartedly, but everyone saw. In her wasted state, she had gotten down on hand and knee to propose to Walter Gellar, who had accepted kindly. The date was set for April, amusingly supported by the teachers, until Patricia's irate mother went against the school board, declaring them all a bunch of bullies. As if that made them taunt her any less.)
The Hargrove brothers, on their part, were positively rejoicing. Ravenclaw's house head had to unjinx Casey, Cerulean, and Cherridy three times each, and kindly reprimand Orpheus Vaughn with the utmost delicacy, for fear of being jinxed himself. However, as Orpheus would point out each time, it was quite rude for the brothers to dance around singing 'Dark Symphony's dead' at all hours of the day and night.
No one could really argue with that.
What worried Elanore was that her date to the Hogsmeade concert in February was now ruined, "I mean, how could they break up? Why would they do something like that? I know, Sere, that Orpheus was a bastard to you, but that was post announcement, so really, you only have your own boyfriend to blame, don't you?"
"Ellie! How cold can you get?" Prue demanded, although she hadn't really been listening in on the conversation, too absorbed in watching Casey chat with a Gryffindor girl, "What do you think they're saying?"
"I can't believe you, of all people, are jealous," Serendipity drawled, choosing to ignore Elanore's statement, "I mean, all good relationships are built off trust. Trust Casey, Prue."
"I do. I trust him about as far as I can throw him, is all."
"Which is pretty far, considering the way they train you brutish Quidditch players," Elanore put in, only to be silenced with a well-placed 'sealipificus' on Serendipity's part.
"Brutish? Honestly, I really wish she'd learn to keep her mouth shut. Just because she and Joshua are practically in martial bliss," Serendipity sighed, and Elanore's frantic head shaking was ignored again.
"As if you and Polaris are on the rocks," Prue frowned, "Plus Reilly Porter chose to go off and get himself a girlfriend, so he absolutely refuses to do my homework anymore."
"God forbid you did it yourself, Prue."
Shrewdly, Prue asked, "Do you?"
The subject closed up after that.
"You know what I've been thinking about lately?" Elanore started, once she managed to throw off Serendipity's curse.
"Boys?"
"Makeup?"
"Homework?" Casey asked, propping his head up on the chair Prue was sitting on. Elanore calmly uttered an itsy bitsy 'petrificus totalus', paralyzing the boy.
"Ellie, unjinx my boyfriend. Please. Geez, you guys are sure hard to appease today," Prue yawned, trying to stay focused on the subject. She'd had a late night the night before, doing detention with Professor Esquiline until midnight. Honestly, it wasn't even her fault she got detention. She hadn't purposely dumped the contents of her potion on Sylvester's head last week. It was an accident. Really.
If only he weren't such a giant wet prat.
Obligingly, Elanore removed the jinx on Casey, who shot her a dark glare and stomped away, "That boy has no sense of humor."
"If you'd been cursed, jinxed, and hexed thirteen times in the last week, I suppose you wouldn't either," Serendipity mused.
"Maybe he shouldn't make such a huge berk of himself then."
"He tries," Prue said warily, "But you know Casey…"
"Yeah," both girls sighed, "We know Casey."
"You never said what you were thinking about, Elanore," Serendipity informed the other girl, who haughtily crossed her legs and tossed her hair as some younger Ravenclaws walked by, all ogling the three girls.
"That's Elanore Kingston!" One girl whispered excitedly to another, "She's so smart."
"Serendipity's a babe," a boy near the back of the group was attempting to discreetly tell his friend, but it came out rather high pitched, and Serendipity shifted uncomfortably in her chair, not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.
"Mate, that's Prue Gelliston. Did you see her beat that guy with her beater's bat last game?" Another boy asked a smaller girl incredulously.
"Vicious," she replied fiercely, clutching her text books, "I wanna learn how to play Quidditch!"
Smugly, Prue exclaimed, "Guess we have the beauty, brains, brawn thing down pat."
"I should be the beauty," Elanore glared at Serendipity, who sunk lower into her chair.
"You have a groupie," Serendipity told Prue, trying to evade Elanore's gaze, "Look how the cycle comes around."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Remember how you used to practically stalk Cameron Gilmore in our first and second year?" the redhead asked.
Elanore chuckled, "And you practically had an emotional breakdown when he graduated? You sent like, five letters to the agony aunts in the Prophet, begging him to come back and play more Quidditch."
"If I recall correctly, you were rather taken with his brother, Trent, and Ezekiel Nathansen as well. All the Quidditch captains, except Ravenclaw. House traitor," Serendipity teased, "Especially considering Cameron was a Slytherin."
"Hmph. Well at least I stalked the Quidditch captains rather than the announcer," Prue retorted snottily, furiously trying to stop her cheeks from turning red.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Serendipity replied mildly.
"Jason Fox ring a bell?"
"Oh, Jason!" Elanore exclaimed giddily, "I remember! Serendipity had so many pictures of him coating her walls!"
"I just liked the way he announced," she sputtered in shock at the accusation.
"With his deep, sexy, manly voice," Prue mused, "Funny how you couldn't hear it in all the pictures."
Dangerously, Serendipity said, "You better not tell anyone. Anyway, I burned all his pictures when he graduated."
"I doubt that. They're probably hanging in your room at home," Elanore grinned.
"At least I didn't have a mad crush on Professor Berkeley back then," the redhead attempted in a final plea to save herself.
All Elanore did was cross her arms, "Everyone knows I used to like Malcolm."
"Malcolm, is it?" Prue wondered.
"Get bent and die, you," Elanore scowled, "You know what I mean."
"Does Joshua know? This could cause strife among the newlyweds! Complete chaos! Utter disaster! Catastrophe!" Serendipity cried dramatically, unaware that most of the common room had turned to face her.
"I have absolutely nothing to say to that."
"Me neither, surprisingly," Prue added, giving Serendipity a strange look, "I knew I shouldn't have let you watch those muggle soaps last summer."
"You let her stare at a bar of soap?" Elanore inquired.
Shaking her head, Prue murmured, "Er. Yes. Exactly."
"This is a pointless conversation," Sere observed.
"Bugger off," Prue and Elanore shot back in unison.
Looking rather miffed, Serendipity said, "No need to get snippy."
"Snippy. Oh, bloody hell. I forgot to do my Transfiguration homework! Damn Reilly Porter!" Prue shrieked, pulling at her short hair, "I can't believe it. And we have class in an hour!"
"Prue, Prue, calm down!" Elanore tried soothing her friend, but her efforts were marred by the fact that she had just caught wind of her reflection in the glass casing of the nearest bookshelf, filled with all the uncut collectors' editions of boring tabletop novels. So when Prue responded with a miffed, "Why should I?" Elanore found herself unable to answer. She was horrified. How could Joshua like her when she looked so…so…ugh! Of course she was beautiful, her long, straight black hair, streaked blue hanging in a glossy waterfall down to her teensy tiny waist, but still, her violet eyes clashed horribly with her hair, didn't they? She looked so oriental. Which was cool for the first half of a year, a good sixth year style, as it were, but now she was mature. This was the 'Rufus's girlfriend' look, not the 'Joshua Kenth's sexy babe' look. It HAD to go.
"Ellie. What's wrong? Why are your eyes going all funky? Ellie, you're scaring me," squeaked Serendipity, forgetting Prue's problem altogether.
"Oh," Elanore composed herself, brushing her hair away from her face, and then second guessing herself and tying it back in a high ponytail. Her two friends stared. Elanore never did anything fancy with her hair. Never, "Like I was saying Prue, don't flip out. We didn't have Transfiguration homework. We did have DADA homework, but as I recall, you and Casey were studying together last night."
"Eh heh heh, that's right," Prue blushed, "We studied."
"I so don't want to know," Serendipity frowned, "We're back to pointless conversations."
Haughtily, Prue interjected, "The only non-pointless conversations we've had all year are about the Pendragon hags, and I personally don't want to think about some tongue-less, eye-less, tattooed freaks that probably offed it a thousand years ago."
"Although that passage comes in useful for those late night rendezvous, doesn't it?"
"Bobby!"
"Prue, Elanore, Serendipity! How are my lovely Stoners doing today?"
Perking up near the corner of the common room, a fourth year named Connie Mason demanded, "Who has weed?"
Visibly speechless, Bobby managed to muster, "Um, no one, Connie. It's a nickname."
"Why the hell did you mention it then?" She asked irritably, "John Roscoe from Gryffindor just ran out. You trying to start a riot mate?"
"No, I didn't- uh. Go back to sleep, hey?"
"I catch your drift, man. S'not cool," she muttered as she fell back into a coma.
"Ahem," Serendipity's eyebrows had shot into her hairline, "What was that all about? What's weed?"
"Pot," Prue and Bobby chimed back, glancing nervously at Connie to see if she would rebuke their words once more.
"Kettle?" Elanore wondered disinterestedly, smoothing her ponytail and pondering how she would look with bangs.
"Black?"
"Sirius?"
"Word association game equals not fun, guys."
After that tiny outburst, Prue and Bobby had a fun time explaining hallucinogens and other muggle drugs to the two awed girls.
Elanore claimed Lucy, their maid, used marijuana in her famous stew.
Serendipity claimed that 'Mary Jane' was a character in some muggle comic about a man-spider type person, and both Prue and Bobby had to wonder about how she knew that.
"Back to the subject at hand, um, Elanore. Why do you keep touching your hair?"
"I think I need a makeover."
"Whaaaaaaaaat?" Serendipity shrieked, "But Ellie, you're so pretty!"
"I know, I know," the other girl replied pompously, "but this look is so old me. I need a new me look."
"You know who could probably use a makeover as well?" Prue grinned.
"I don't like that look, Prue."
Meeting Serendipity's fearful eyes, the girl continued, "Polaris."
"No! I like the way Polaris looks!"
"You can barely see his eyes, except when he slicks back that mass of hair, and when he does it's all full of Sleakeazys, and greasy like," Prue protested.
"Maybe that's a good idea," Elanore smiled sweetly, so sweetly that if Sylvester had been around he would have died of a sugar coma.
"You know who gives good makeovers," Bobby asked with a vicious grin, the kind of grin that someone with a secret had. A secret they weren't under any circumstances to tell.
The juicy type of secret that Serendipity, Prue, and Elanore just had to know.
"Casey."
Face faulting all around.

"Absolutely not. I don't need a makeover. Especially not from him."
"Absolutely not. I don't want a makeover, for me or Polaris! Especially not from him!"
"I don't know about this. Are you sure you know what you're doing, Casey?"
"Hell no. I can't believe Bobby told you that! I'm going to kill him!"
"Whelp, I think it'll be fun. I mean you already managed to burn all my hair off. Geez, why didn't you tell me your step sisters taught you how to do hair?"
"Because Marigold had no right to subject me to that kind of torture!"
"Because Marigold had no right to subject us to that kind of torture, you mean."
"Don't talk about my sister, Morgan."
"Don't touch my hair, Hargrove. I mean it."
"Chicken?"
"Pouf. Pansy boy. Queer."
"Those aren't nice things to call yourself."
"I was calling you them, scissor boy. Back off! Do not, and I mean, do not touch my ha-aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" Some people swore they heard Polaris's screams out on the Quidditch field the day that Casey Hargrove, stylist extraordinaire, went psychotic with a pair of silver wire cutters.
Others claim that it was the best thing that ever happened to the mop top that was Polaris Morgan's hair.
"Hargrove, I thought you said you didn't want to do this!" Polaris yelped, clutching his head, more specifically, his hair, not long at the sideburns and super short in the back.
"I don't, mate," Casey said cheerfully, "it's just that these scissors are charmed- er, jinxed, by my sisters. Marigold was the one who charmed them to work with hair, glamours for lengthening, etc. Then Florence decided she was sick of being the test dummy and jinxed them so that the cut or weave or whatever only takes five seconds, so she could go back to studying. And then Ruthie decided to hex them so that the user couldn't put them down until he or she decided they were well and truly done with the makeover."
"Are you, yet?"

"Nope. Would you look at these split ends?" The redhead chirped back, snipping and clipping carefully around the taller boy's ears.

By the time Casey Hargrove was done with poor Polaris, there wasn't a trace of a single curl left in his dark hair. The back was cut short and close to his skull, while the front had some wispy fringe and bits, so that he looked like some sort of model for Gladrags or some other very haute couture line.

"Next victim," Casey practically purred, cradling the scissors in his hands. He obviously enjoyed any excuse to act like a pouf, or so Polaris claimed, injured that Serendipity would subject him to such torture. He'd LIKED his hair.

Plus his girlfriend had smacked him on the back and told him quite meanly to stop being such a baby.

For her part, Serendipity was quite nervous. She had a long, long history of bad haircuts, and even though Casey had done such a spectacular job on her boyfriend's hair, he was a boy! Boys knew how to stylize other boys, didn't they?

Anxiously, she sat on the proffered stool, trembling as Casey pranced about her form, observing every minute detail that might affect her 'look'. Finally, he snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "By George! How do you feel about short hair, Sere? The retro seventies shag?"

Beaming, he didn't even wait for her answer, instead looking quite satisfied and saying, "No, no, don't tell me, I'm a genius."

And then he advanced on her with the scissors. Suddenly, Serendipity felt quite guilty for hitting Polaris. Casey was scary.

She watched the locks of her brilliant red hair fall to the hard stone floor like the last leaves of autumn. Only then did she realize she was holding her breath. Inhale, exhale. It wasn't that hard, was it?

"Brilliant," Prue breathed, possibly the only one who wasn't terrified of having a little trim. But then, she wouldn't be, because her hair was just about as short as she could go without getting a military buzz cut. On the other hand, Elanore looked terrified, clutching Prue's hand tightly, absently playing with her long hair.

Elanore had never cut her hair before.

The knowledge made Serendipity feel better. When Casey declared himself done and handed her a mirror, she was ready. Her red tresses barely brushed her shoulders, and somehow he'd managed to layer each lock, ridding the natural wave from her hair. Cute fringe touched her eyebrows, and she already knew that she'd be constantly brushing it out of her eyes on the pitch.

"It's nice," she affirmed, "Different, but nice."

"Nice?" Casey demanded in an affected accent, "It's gorgeous darling."

By the time they were done, Elanore was sporting an ear length bob with a funky wave to it, a la the flappers of the nineteen twenties in America, all traces of her electric blue streak gone, and, even more surprising, she'd allowed Casey to die it a dark chestnut color.

"It's only a glamour," he explained, "It will naturally fade within three months."

"So, by end of term, would you reckon?"

"Pretty much. Maybe two or three weeks before. The color will just kind of slide out," Casey made a weird hand motion to show the way the dye slid out.

Prue's change was the most drastic, but perhaps the least surprising. She had allowed Casey to add long extensions to her hair, so that it almost touched her waist once again, except the additions curled so tightly that they sprung up more to her waist. Also, she'd let him die her hair pink.

"But then we'll clash," Prue protested, worriedly fingering her still short hair then.

"We don't want to be one of those boring matching couples, do we?"

Silence hung in the air for all of a second before Prue replied heavily, "No, of course not."

Uneasily, Serendipity shifted and started talking to Elanore and Polaris about their new dos. Something didn't feel right.

"Tada," Prue had twirled and giggled when she showed them all her new look, "It's like Elanore's the dye will slide out…Sere, are you okay? You look like a ghost just walked over your grave."

"I-I'm fine," Serendipity tore her eyes from Prue. Just for a second, she had looked at the girl and…she wasn't there.

"If you say so," Casey, who had finally put the darned scissors away slid his arms around Prue's waist, and they shared a kiss so sweet that Sere had to look away. After all, she was just being silly.

The next day, perhaps her 'omen' was fulfilled. Everything started out okay. In fact, Polaris announced that he was rejoining Dark Symphony. Somehow, he and Orpheus had worked out an agreement. No one knew what. Although one thing was for sure, Polaris would not let Orpheus anywhere near Serendipity, except to have him stand sheepishly before her to make a somewhat mumbled apology.

"I'm sorry for being a slimy, berky, git," and so on and so on, blah, blah, blah. It had been all very touching. As if Serendipity would forgive him.

Elanore's hair cut had made a big stir with Joshua, or so the other girl told her. Serendipity couldn't bring herself to ask what kind of 'stirrings' Joshua was feeling.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts two things happened; Professor Berkley swallowed a bad batch of Cockney Hen Stew, and spent most of the time emptying his bowels in the hall, tyring to slip and slide over vomit towards the infirmary and never quite reaching it (only later did he admit he'd agreed to try Professor Esquiline's cooking, which apparently was the most poisonous potion she could create), and Casey broke up with Prue.

With relief, Serendipity watched Prue sob quietly into her hands after they'd made it back to the security of the dorms, knowing only that this must have been the dark, forbidding aura she'd felt around her friend earlier. What else could it be?

Never one to mope, Elanore only allowed Prue a two hour grieving period before marching up to her and yanking her newly rose colored tresses, saying, "Come on. We're going to the library."

"Ellie, she's upset. Don't make her."

"No. If I had cried every day after Rufus dumped me, where would I be?"

Serendipity refrained from pointing out that Elanore had cried quite often after Rufus dumped her. And that she being dumped by Rufus was not as unexpected as Casey dumping Prue after only a good three weeks of dating and many months and years of emotional angst.

"I'm not crying," Prue shrieked, hurling a muggle alarm clock at the wall. It hadn't worked in Hogwarts anyway, but hadn't she mentioned that her deceased grandfather had given her that?

"Shh," Serendipity tried to sound soothing, but honestly, she was seething. This was too much.

"Th-that bastard!" Prue choked out.

"Come on, Prudence," Elanore rolled her eyes, "It's not like you didn't expect it."

Looking up sharply, Serendipity exclaimed, "Elanore, how could she have expected this?"

"Oh, come off it. You didn't tell her?"

Prue shook her head meekly.

"That girl we saw Casey talking to the other day, Glynnis," Elanore started.

"Oh my god! He dumped you for Glynnis? That cow!"

"No, no, not for Glynnis. Glynnis is in Transfiguration with Atlanta, and she told Atlanta that her friend, Lucy, you know, the titchy little muggle born in Hufflepuff, said her friend, Cordelia said her friend, Mauve said her friend, Astrid is totally and utterly in love with Casey Hargrove."

"So? Just because this girl…"

"Astrid," Prue choked out helpfully.

"Astrid," Serendipity confirmed, "Loves Casey, doesn't mean he fancies her in any way."

"No, no, no," Elanore shook her head, her eyes saying Serendipity didn't understand anything, "Astrid is basically after Casey in some sort of freaky stalker way. Don't ask. But apparently, she was chasing Casey around the castle last Sunday, and she saw Steffie Devereaux, you know, the transfer girl from Beauxbatons going into a broom closet with Casey."

"Steffie and Casey?" Serendipity bit her lip doubtfully. Sure, Steffie was pretty, if you liked that pinched face sort of look, and sure, her waist was about as big as Prue's wrist, but then you also had to like that sickly I haven't eaten in three years and only my magic is keeping me alive sort of look, which she doubted Casey did.

Did he?

"But who cares. So, Casey left you for Steffie," Elanore frowned, "Rufus left me for Seldom, and you-"

"Ellie, this is not about you," Serendipity snapped.

Miffed, Elanore said shortly, "Fine. But come to the library. Prue promised Bobby earlier that she'd show."

It was just like the last time they'd all gathered together in the library, except that Prue determinedly took a seat as far from Casey as she could, and absolutely no one made a move to stop her.

"Quant found something," Bobby announced triumphantly.

"Really? When?"

"Two nights ago," Quant grinned, "I was taking a walk out that handy little passage you've got hidden in your common room, 'round midnight-"

"Wait," Sylvester objected, "How did you get to the common room at midnight? Who let you in?"

"I did," Bobby lowered his eyes, "Well, he said he wanted to show Fortune a good time, and-"

"You let Quant and Fortune into the common room so that they could wander out the passage that none of us have really explored in the middle of the Forbidden forest so that they could make out in peace?" Elanore asked shrewdly.

Bobby shrugged, "Yes."

"Way to go Quant," Casey slapped the dark haired kid a high five, and Serendipity noticed Prue start to go a bit teary. The two had been avoiding each others gazes carefully. So she kicked her hard, in the shin.

"What'd you find?" Elanore interrupted the touching display of male bonding the way only she could, with a sharp look and even sharper words.

"Oh. Oh yeah," Quant scratched the back of his neck, "This."

He pushed a long, sharp, silver object out onto the table.

"What is that? A shard of plate?" Frank demanded.

"A metal plate?" Scoffed Casey, "Who eats off of metal plates?"

"We do," Prue managed icily, "Unless you think that the gold plates in the Great Hall are some sort of liquid."

He actually looked rather taken aback at such coldness, "Prue."

Angrily, she stared defiantly down at her skirt rather than answer him.
"It looks like part of a cauldron," Sylvester put in.

"Such an intricate cauldron?" Elanore frowned, "No one in their right mind would use something so pretty to put their noxious potions in."

Appearing properly chastised, Sylvester did a good job of imitating Prue's scrutinizing the trousers routine.

"Is it very old?" Asked Serendipity.

"No. It's relatively new. That's why we were so surprised," Bobby explained, "Even though we're not quite sure what it is, we do know that it came from Diagon Alley."

Questioned Frank, "How's that?"

"Look," Quant flipped the shard, which sure enough had a stamp, "Made in Cornerstones, 831 Diagon Alley."

"So what has this to do with the old dead hags of the forest?" Casey grumbled.

Clarified Quant, "I think nothing. I think this passage of yours has been discovered by some other young Ravenclaws who use it to get their kicks. Perhaps fooling around in the woods gives some people a strange satisfaction."

"Like you?" Prue demanded, unable to stay quiet, "And I find the fact that you think highly amusing."

"Prue!"

Bobby held up his hands, "Guys, guys! And girls," he acknowledged the three, "Look, that's Quant's theory. But I've been looking up some stuff on the Pendragon sisters. And the forbidden forest. Did you know people- and students- have been disappearing there since beyond time?"

"Way to make us remember students aren't people," Frank grumbled sourly.

"Yeah, so?"

"Except that beyond time seems to date around the time of the girls' birth."

"But that was around the time Hogwarts was founded."

"About thirty years after, actually."

"I still don't see what any of this has to do with-"

"Look, the disappearances started when the girls were born, but they didn't stop when they died."

"So?" Sylvester shrugged, "Maybe the two things have nothing to do with each other."

Bobby cast him a scathing 'I can't believe you really believe that' look.

"Well, if you think the ancient hags of the forest were responsible, why do people keep wandering in the forest and never coming back?"

"Centaurs. Giant Spiders. Trolls," Elanore supplied.

"Maybe they never died," Bobby shot back, "Maybe the witches are still alive."

"You read too many suspense thrillers," Prue mumbled, not caring that nobody except she and Bobby knew what those were, "Even in the wizarding world, once you're dead, you don't come back."

"That Agatha lady killed them. You're the one who said so," Frank accused.

"Maybe she didn't."

"Fine, let's say she didn't," Prue interrupted again, "And the Pendragon sisters would have lived to ripe old fruition. And still died about a thousand years ago!"

"Maybe their life spans are longer than ours!" Bobby protested.

"Why would they be?"

"Because, well, maybe they were aliens!"

Snorting in disgust, Prue slammed her hands down on the table, "This is ridiculous! I have better things to do than listen to your UFO theories."

"Like what, cry over that arsehole in your room?" Bobby demanded, jerking a finger towards Casey. The redhead, who had been leaning on the rear legs of his chair, fell all the way backwards, "Hey!"

Blushing in shame, Prue turned away, but also complied and sat back down.

Breathing slightly heavier, Bobby continued, "Or maybe it wasn't the Pendragon sisters. Maybe it was the boy. I found out his name, you know. What I think is his real name."

"The one who had his genitals kicked in?" Frank shifted uncomfortably.

"Supposedly," Bobby shrugged, "Maybe not. Maybe he was just killed. His name was Balthazar."

"That must have sucked," Sylvester commented, scribbling doodles on the side of one of Madame Pince's books.

"And his 'parents' were supposedly killed early on. Every one thought his mother had an affair with Salazar Slytherin, and that he was really his son. But Slytherin denied it."

"Slimy bastard would."

"Yes. So Balthazar Moerte grew up alone, unwanted. Can you imagine?"

No one could, but no one wanted to say so.

"Yeah, yeah, but he still fell in love with some tattooed freak."

Steadily, Bobby replied, "Casey, we can't help who we fall in love with."

The group had to consider this, the most notable silences of all coming from both Casey and Prue.

"Right, so you think he has something to do with this?"

"I don't know," Bobby sighed, finger the silver shard before them, "I just kind of feel sorry for the guy. Abandoned by his parents, probably avoided by the students- I mean, would you want to talk to Slytherin's real heir?"

"No. But that's now, in the future. Now that we all know what a creep the guy was."

"Even then, I think everybody knew Salazar was a dark wizard. People don't change, Elanore, even over the centuries."

"What do you mean?" Sylvester asked, "We've changed plenty over the last thousand years. Hell, we've changed over the past couple of days!"

"I mean basic human nature. Evolution can't mess with that."

"Thanks for depressing the group, Dr. Stone. Can we go now?" Quant whined.

Considering it, Bobby picked up the shard, caressing it almost. Finally, reluctantly, he agreed, "Fine."

In the far shadows of the Forbidden forest, a flock of birds twittered in unrest. The shack beneath them had lie dormant for many years. Well, no, not uninhabited, but dormant. Something thick was in the air. Perhaps it was time to fly south.

Chapter 19: Fin.