Chapter 5

Gilderoy Lockhart

The following morning seemed to come too soon for many of the students at Hogwarts. It had taken Orion nearly a quarter of an hour to get Neville, Hayden and Ron out of bed to join the rest of the Gryffindor second years for breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon. The enchanted ceiling displayed the dull and cloudy gray sky that seemed to taunt them all as to what their day would bring.

It wasn't a surprise to see Hermione seated as far from Hayden and Ron as possible while still remaining close enough to insert her opinion if necessary. Her attention was focused on her copy of Voyages with Vampires that was propped open against a milk jug. There was an obvious agitation in the way she turned the page, making it clear that she was still disapproving in the way Hayden and Ron had arrived.

Orion had just started filling his plate with food when there was a rushing sound above them as a hundred or so owls streamed into the Great Hall. Everyone's eyes shifted towards the ceiling as the owls circled the hall, dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. Orion immediately signaled out Hedwig who landed beside his plate, her chest proudly puffed out. He wasted no time breaking off pieces of bacon and feeding them to her while a large brown owl landed in front of Hayden.

"Oh no!" Hayden exclaimed in horror.

Orion looked up and noticed the red envelope held in the owl's beak. Apparently, Mrs. Potter was angrier than Hayden or Ron expected her to be. Parents knew that Howlers were extremely embarrassing for those who received them. The teasing could last for weeks.

"You better open it, Hayden," Neville said quietly. "It'll be worse if you don't."

Hayden nodded as he shakily pulled the envelope out of the owl's beak and slit it open. A moment later, Mrs. Potter's amplified voice echoed throughout the hall.

"HAYDEN POTTER! WHAT IN THE WORLD WERE YOU THINKING? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WERE GOING THROUGH WHILE YOU WERE GALLIVANTING OVER THE COUNTRY-SIDE IN A FLYING CAR?!?!"

Plates and spoons rattled on the table. Hayden quickly sank low in his chair to avoid the stares that were coming from all directions.

"YOUR RECKLESSNESS COST SIRIUS AN ENTIRE DAY AT WORK, NOT TO MENTION THE HOURS AFTERWARDS HE HAD TO SPEND FILING THE REPORT!! YOU BETTER SEND HIM A WELL WRITTEN APOLOGY OR I WILL COME THERE MYSELF!!"

Hayden glanced at Orion helplessly as dust shook from the ceiling.

"I BETTER NOT HEAR OF ANY MORE TROUBLE FROM YOU OR YOU WILL BE BROUGHT HOME! THAT IS A PROMISE!!!"

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which lay on Hayden's plate, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Hayden refused to move until something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers. Ron instantly paled as everyone around him groaned. In the bedraggled owl's beak was another Howler. Orion immediately stuffed his fingers in his ears. Here we go again.

Ron's Howler hadn't been any worse than Hayden's but it had left both of them sitting extremely low in their chairs for the remainder of breakfast. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall arrived as soon as Ron's Howler disintegrated with the course schedules. A quick look told them they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first so they thankfully left the crowded Great Hall with Orion, Neville and Hermione to get their books.

Not a word was said to and from Gryffindor Tower. Hayden and Ron appeared to be trying to make themselves be as small as possible which was difficult considering how tall Ron was. Orion and Neville led the way out of the castle, across the vegetable patch and towards the greenhouses where the magical plants were kept. In the distance, Orion noticed that several branches of the Whomping Willow were now in slings. They reached the rest of the waiting class just as Professor Sprout came striding into view across the lawn with Gilderoy Lockhart at her heels.

Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, having obviously just come from tending to the Whomping Willow. She was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair. Lockhart, on the other hand, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

Lockhart flashed his pearly white teeth at the awaiting students. "Oh, hello there!" he called. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels…"

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said a disgruntled Professor Sprout.

There was a murmur of interest, having only ever worked in greenhouse one before. Greenhouse three housed far more interesting plants. Neville was nearly bouncing on his feet in excitement as Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. There was a distinct aroma of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. One by one, they entered the greenhouse only to come to an abrupt halt when Lockhart moved to block Hayden.

"Hayden! I've been wanting a word," Lockhart said cheerfully. "You don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Orion scowled as he grabbed Hayden by the arm and pushed him into the greenhouse. "We have class, Professor," he said stiffly. "Maybe later."

Professor Sprout beamed while Lockhart looked disappointed for only a moment before saying something about busy schedules and striding off. Hayden shot Orion a grateful smile as they picked a spot along a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. They waited as Professor Sprout took her place behind the trestle bench, a cheerful smile now on her face. If Orion didn't know any better, he would think that Professor Sprout didn't like Lockhart either.

"Welcome back, second years," Professor Sprout said as all chatter died away. "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Hermione, Orion and Neville each raised a hand in the air. Professor Sprout pointed at Neville.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, has powerful healing capabilities" said Neville as his cheeks flushed pink. "It's more common use of to return people who have been cursed to their original state."

"Excellent," Professor Sprout said proudly. "Ten points to Gryffindor. The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Once again, Hermione, Orion and Neville raised their hands. This time, however, Professor Sprout pointed at Orion.

"The cry of a mature Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," Orion answered promptly. "Seedling Mandrakes have been known to knock people out for at least a few hours."

"Very good, Mr. Black," said Professor Sprout. "Ten more points for Gryffindor. Now, our Mandrakes are still seedlings so, as Mr. Black said, we don't have to worry about them killing us yet but they will indeed knock you out." She pointed to a row of deep trays containing a hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, growing in rows. "Everyone, take a pair of earmuffs."

Everyone scrambled to grab a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," Professor Sprout continued. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right, earmuffs on."

At once, everyone snapped the earmuffs over their ears only to be trapped in silence. They followed Professor Sprout's example by grasping one of the tufty plants firmly and pulling hard. Instead of roots, a small muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs. Once again they followed Professor Sprout's example, pulling a large plat pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. She then looked around and waited until everyone was finished them motioned for them to repeat the process.

They were forced to split up into groups of four for each tray leaving Hayden, Ron and Hermione to join Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Muggle-born in Hufflepuff, while Orion and Neville joined Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones. With the earmuffs on there wasn't much of a chance to talk about anything so they just dived in and worked to finish their tray as quickly and thoroughly as possible. By the end of class, everyone was sweaty, aching and covered in earth. Orion and Hermione cast a few cleaning charms but they still needed a quick wash before hurrying to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall's classes were normally demanding and today was no different. Their assignment was to turn a beetle into a button, something that Orion and Hermione managed to accomplish. Hayden, Neville and Ron, however, weren't as successful. Ron had broken his wand when they had crashed into the Whomping Willow and resorted to patching it up with some borrowed Spellotape. It was a big mistake to even consider using a broken wand but Ron insisted that he had no other option.

As predicted, Ron's wand didn't work as commanded making Ron extremely frustrated by the time the lunch bell rang. It was with extreme caution that they made their way to the Great Hall since Ron was still waving his wand around, hoping for something to come out of it.

"Stupid—useless—thing—"

"Write home for a new one," Orion suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron as he stuffed his now hissing wand into his bag.

"Better a Howler than hurting someone," Neville offered. "A broken wand is dangerous, Ron. Casting the wrong spell could backfire on you. She may be upset at first but at least you and us would be safe."

Ron grumbled to himself as they entered the Great Hall. Orion and Neville wisely decided to let the subject drop. They gave Ron their opinion. It was now up to him to act on it.

"What've we got this afternoon?" asked Hayden curiously.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once as she pulled out her schedule.

Ron glanced at her schedule for a split second before seizing it. "Why have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously while Hayden, Orion and Neville groaned. "Not you too, Hermione," Orion pleaded only to earn a nasty glare in return.

After lunch, they ventured outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose into Voyages with Vampires again while Orion, Hayden and Neville quietly talked about a few basic dueling spells. Ron had returned in attempting to make his wand work and was once again becoming frustrated by the lack of progress. Orion was just about to begin on simple jinxes when he had the feeling that they were being watched. Turning around, Orion came face to face with a very small, mousy-haired boy that had been sorted into Gryffindor the night before. He was clutching an older model camera, staring at Orion nervously.

"H—hello," the boy said breathlessly. "I-I'm Colin Creevey. I was hoping—would it be all right if—can I have a picture of Hayden?"

Orion glanced over his shoulder at Hayden whose face was nearly scarlet in embarrassment. Ron and Neville were no help either. They just stared at Colin as if he were the strangest thing they had ever seen. Orion stared at Hayden and jerked his head towards Colin, clearly telling him to say something but Hayden obviously didn't know what to say.

"It's so I can prove I've met you," Colin continued eagerly as he raised his camera slightly. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and a boy in my dormitory said if I developed the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move. It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you—"

"—just stop right there," Orion interrupted. "Tell me something, Colin. Would you like someone walking around trying to take your picture on the first day of classes?" Colin frowned slightly in confusion. "Besides, if your father's a Muggle, he doesn't know anything about Hayden or what he's been through."

"But I could tell him in a letter," Colin offered hopefully.

Orion let out a sigh of frustration. "I give up," he muttered then turned to Hayden. "Your turn. Maybe he'll believe you."

Hayden's shoulders slumped as he stepped forward. "Listen Colin, I know whatever you heard may have sounded great and everything but it really isn't anything like that," he said softly. "I eventually lost my brother because of what happened that night so I'd really appreciate it if you didn't bring it up."

Colin lowered his camera, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said shakily. "I—I didn't know—no one told me you had a brother."

There was something in Hayden's stance as he slowly closed his eyes that made him look a lot older than twelve. "Yeah, well, no one really talks about Harry anymore," he admitted.

Hermione was immediately at Hayden's side, rubbing his back in a soothing motion. Colin muttered another 'I'm sorry' before hurrying back into the castle. Orion, Neville and Ron glanced at each other uncertainly. What could be said to make Hayden feel better? None of them had known Harry Potter. No one really did since he was kept out of the public eye after that night.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked gently.

Hayden shook his head. "It's just hard to hear everyone talk like he never existed," he said angrily. "He was my twin, my other half and everyone's forgotten about him!"

"He died seven years ago and he wasn't the-boy-who-lived, mate," Ron pointed out. "Do you think anyone would care if Fred or George had died when they were five?"

It had been insensitive but honest. Compared to Hayden Potter, the-boy-who-lived, why should anyone remember the unimportant twin? Harry Potter's name was only brought up when people talked about how much Hayden had suffered to make the wizarding world a safe place

The bell rang, signaling the start of afternoon classes and putting an end to the conversation. Together, they walked to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom where Professor Lockhart was waiting for them. Hayden immediately took a seat at the very back of the class while Ron sat on his right and Orion sat on his left. Neville took the empty seat on Orion's left while Hermione took the open seat in front of them. They waited in silence as the rest of the class clattered in and sat in the remaining seats.

Chatter ceased as Lockhart strolled towards the front of the class and turned to face them with a bright smile on his face. "Me," he said as he picked up a copy of Travels with Trolls and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

Orion bowed his head and turned to Hayden who returned his gaze. As discretely as possible, Orion looked like he was going to be sick, earning a smile from Hayden who was trying not to laugh. If Lockhart really didn't want to talk about something, he wouldn't have mentioned it.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books—well done," Lockhart continued. "I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about—just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in—"

Hayden, Neville and Ron looked extremely nervous as Lockhart handed out the test papers. Orion simply pulled out his quill and ink, waiting for the inevitable. From what he knew about Lockhart, this 'quiz' wasn't going to be anything that required an active brain.

When Lockhart returned to the front of the class, he said, "You have thirty minutes—start—now!"

Orion looked down at his paper and read the first question. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color? He read the second question. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition? As Orion had anticipated, this 'quiz' was nothing more than something one would find in Witch Weekly. Frustrated beyond all measure, Orion set the 'quiz' on fire, pulled a piece of his own parchment and started to write.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and shuffled through them in front of the class. "Tut, tut," he said in disappointment, "hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully—I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples—though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

Orion rocked back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest waiting—hoping for class to end as soon as possible.

"…but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions—good girl!" Lockhart exclaimed proudly. "In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?" Hermione raised her hand slowly. "Excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor!" His smile faded slightly as he looked around the class. "And, where is Mr. Orion Black?"

Orion lazily raised his hand halfway before lowering it.

"Tut, tut, Mr. Black," Lockhart said in an almost reproving manner as he held up the parchment that was full of Orion's writing. "What is this?"

"The errors that I found in your books, sir," Orion answered innocently. "I would think your editor would have been more careful. Do you have any idea what some magical creatures do to those who abuse their hospitality?"

Lockhart looked nervous for a second before slamming a fake smile on his face. "Well then, thank you Mr. Black for letting me know," he said appreciatively. "That should be another five points to Gryffindor. And so—to business—" He pulled out a large, covered cage from behind his desk and set it onto of a pile of books. "Now—be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Orion desperately wanted to raise his hand and ask if they would be facing Boggarts which were shape-shifters that take on the form of its intended victim's worst fear but he knew that no Boggart would be put in a cage like that.

"I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart said dramatically. "It might provoke them." No one moved as Lockhart whipped off the cover. "Yes. Freshly caught Cornish pixies!"

Seamus Finnigan let out a snort of laughter followed by Ron and Neville. The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high with pointed faces and voices so shrill that it was like listening to a lot of annoying birds talking to each other. They were jabbering and rocketing around the cage, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them. Everyone raised in a wizarding house knew that Cornish pixies were nothing more than irritating pests that loved to destroy everything they could.

"Now, now," Lockhart scolded. "They might not look like much but they can be devilishly tricky little blighters. So, let's see what you make of them!"

To Orion's horror, Lockhart opened the cage and pandemonium ensued. The pixies shot in every direction like fireworks. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest made it their mission to destroy the classroom. As two made their way for Neville, Orion raised his wand and cast the Shield Charm. Both of the pixies bounced off the shield, shook their heads dizzily and took off for another target.

"Come on now—round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

Orion's eyes narrowed. Gilderoy Lockhart was an even bigger idiot than he had originally thought. Raising his wand, Orion cast the strongest Freezing Charm he could and sent the ones that were immobilized back into the cage. He repeated the spell three times before all of the pixies were back in the cage. As everyone emerged from their hiding places, their eyes fell on the destruction. The classroom was covered with ink, broken glass and shredded parchment. Slowly, everyone's gazes fell on Lockhart who was coming out of his own hiding place.

Lockhart tried to smile sheepishly but failed at the glares he received.

The bell rang, causing a mad rush toward the exit. Orion took his time repairing his damaged belongings before storming out of the classroom with Neville, Hayden, Ron and Hermione following suit.

"Can you believe him?" Ron asked incredulously.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," Hermione rationalized.

Everyone turned and stared at Hermione as if she had grown another head. "Hands on?" asked Hayden. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing! If Orion hadn't—"

"—Orion just beat him to it," Hermione protested. "You've read his books—look at al those amazing things he's done—"

"He says he's done," Neville interrupted. "I'm with Orion. Something's not right."

Over the next few days, it quickly became obvious that Orion, Neville and Ron needed to become lookouts for Hayden in order to avoid Gilderoy Lockhart and Colin Creevey. Colin hadn't asked for anymore pictures but he seemed determined to speak to Hayden as often as possible. To make matters worse, Ron's wand was also still malfunctioning every time he used it, making everyone around him duck for cover.

Another uncomfortable topic had been Quidditch. Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, had cornered Orion about joining the team. The problem was that there weren't any open spots. As much as Orion loved to fly, he wouldn't have someone kicked off the team because of it. Oliver wasn't happy with Orion's decision and Hayden looked extremely uncomfortable as if the entire situation was his fault. It took quite a bit of reassurance to make Hayden believe otherwise.

Everyone was grateful to see the weekend arrive…well, everyone except the Gryffindor Quidditch team when Oliver woke them up early Saturday morning. Orion had woken to see Hayden stumble out of the room in his scarlet team robes and Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. Knowing that he would never fall back asleep, Orion woke Neville and Ron for an early breakfast and the chance of catching a glimpse of the Quidditch practice.

By the time they had changed and reached the Common Room, Orion was relieved to see Hermione walking down the girl's staircase. He filled her in as they hurried to the Great Hall a grabbed a quick breakfast. They had planned on visiting Hagrid that day so it was decided that they would do so after Quidditch was over so Hayden could join them. That was, if Ron would ever stop eating. After his third helping, Orion and Neville physically pulled him out of the Great Hall while Hermione grabbed a few pieces of toast just in case Hayden was hungry.

The grass was still drenched with dew, making it difficult to walk down the sloping lawns without slipping. The sun was still breaking the horizon and the presence of mist made it feel colder than it should be for a September morning. As they reached the Quidditch pitch, there was no sign of the Gryffindor team so they sat in the stands to wait. It wasn't long before the Gryffindor team stepped out of the changing room, looking half-asleep. Hayden was the last to appear and immediately noticed them.

"Aren't you finished yet?" Ron called out.

Hayden groaned. "Haven't even started," he said. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

Hermione stood up and raised the toast in her hands. "We brought you some toast if you want some," she offered.

Hayden mounted his broomstick and kicked off the ground, soaring up into the air, towards them. He quickly grabbed two pieces of toast and stuffed them into his mouth. "Fanks," he said with a mouth full of food before hurrying over to the team.

As they started to run through their drills, Orion kept his eyes out for the Snitch only for his gaze to fall on Colin Creevey who was sitting in one of the highest seats across from them, his camera raised. "I don't believe it," Orion muttered. "Doesn't he ever quit?"

Neville followed Orion's gaze. "Apparently not," he said obviously. "Maybe we should try being blunt."

"Don't," Hermione scolded. "I know he can be a little—much—but he idolizes Hayden so much."

"I think Colin is the least of our worries," Ron said gravely pointing down at the field. "The Slytherin team is here."

Sure enough there were seven people dressed in green robes with broomsticks in their hands. The Gryffindor team had also noticed the presence of their rivals, flying to the ground and dismounting. Those sitting in the stands hurried towards the mixture of scarlet and green. Interfering with Oliver's Quidditch practices was one of the stupidest things anyone could do and everyone knew that.

"Flint!" Oliver bellowed. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!" Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, had said something that seemed to make Oliver even angrier. "But I booked the field!" Oliver shouted. "I booked it!"

Orion, Neville and Ron had reached the crowd, their wands already out.

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker'."

Hermione had joined them as had Colin.

"You've got a new Seeker?" Oliver asked skeptically. "Where?"

There was movement behind the taller boys as a smaller boy with a pale pointed face came out. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" asked Fred, staring loathly at Draco.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the entire Slytherin team smiled broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

The entire Slytherin time held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words: Nimbus Two Thousand and One glittered under the noses of the Gryffindor team in the early morning sun.

"The very latest model," Flint continued. "Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps—" he smiled nastily at Fred and George's Cleansweep Fives "—sweeps the board with them."

"Well, at least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Hermione said sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

Malfoy glared at Hermione. "No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

It happened faster than anyone could blink. Orion's wand was raised and Malfoy was hunched over, spitting out soap bubbles as a loud bang was heard followed by a jet of green light shooting out the wrong end of Ron's wand. Ron was hit hard in the stomach, sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

Neville and Hermione were quickly at Ron's side, helping him up. "Ron, are you all right?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Ron opened his mouth only to belch loudly causing several slugs to dribble out of his mouth. The Slytherin team roared with laughter as Orion and Hayden grasped Ron's arms and pulled him out of the pitch. Both of them seemed to have the same thought, get Ron to Hagrid as soon as possible. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front as they crossed the grounds towards the edge of the forest. Orion glanced over his shoulder to see Neville and Hermione following them while Colin stood at the entrance to the pitch with his camera still in hand.

They were within twenty feet of Hagrid's house when the front door opened to reveal Lockhart, wearing pale mauve roves. Orion didn't hesitate. He pulled Ron and Hayden behind a nearby bush and waited as Hermione and Neville joined them.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing," Lockhart said loudly. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one—I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!"

Orion watched as Lockhart strode towards the castle. As soon as it was safe, he pulled Ron out of the bush and up to Hagrid's front door. Orion and Hayden wasted no time knocking urgently. The door was pulled open with quite a bit of force to reveal a grumpy looking Hagrid but his frown turned to a smile as soon as he saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you lot would come ter see me," he said as he moved out of the door way. "Come in—thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again—"

Orion and Hayden helped Ron into the one-roomed cabin that contained an enormous bed in on corner, a fire crackling in the other. Neville took the opportunity to give a brief overview of what happened as Orion and Hayden lowered Ron into a chair.

"Better out than in," Hagrid said cheerfully, handing over a large copper basin. "Get 'em all up, Ron." He immediately started bustling around making tea while his boarhound, Fang, rested his chin on Orion's leg.

"What did Lockhart want, Hagrid?" Hayden asked curiously.

"Givin' me advice on getting' kelpies out of a well," Hagrid growled, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table to set down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word was true, I'll eat my kettle."

Orion, Hayden and Neville grinned at each other while Hermione looked reproachful. "I think you're being a bit unfair," she said. "Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job—"

"He was the on'y man for the job," Hagrid interrupted, offering them a plate of treacle fudge. Ron chose that moment to cough up a few more slugs into his basin. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me—" Hagrid jerked his head at Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?"

Orion let out a sigh. "Draco called Hermione a 'Mudblood', Hagrid," he said softly.

"He didn'!" Hagrid growled angrily.

"Oh, he did," Neville said. "Orion got him good. I think he'll be coughing up soap for a week."

"But what does it mean?" Hermione asked curiously.

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," Ron gasped as he pried his face away from the basin. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born—you know, non-magical parents. There are some wizards—like Malfoy's family—who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood."A small burp escaped his lips and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin. "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all."

"Look at me," Neville offered. "I'm pureblood and I'd probably be failing all my classes if you and Orion weren't helping me."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," Hagrid added proudly, making Hermione flush scarlet.

"It's stupid and irrelevant, Hermione," Orion said. "Most of the witches and wizards in our world are half-blood or less. The ones that actually are pure-blood are so interrelated that their children end up squibs due to inbreeding."

Ron retched and ducked out of sight again.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," Hagrid said loudly as more slugs fell out of Ron's mouth. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

"But Orion cursed him," Hayden said worriedly. "Won't Orion get in trouble?"

Orion shook his head. "My dad is more important to the Ministry than his. Lucius Malfoy only 'advises' the Minister. My dad is an actual Auror. Who would you believe?"

"Ori's gotta point," Hagrid said with a shrug. "Now, come an' see what I've bin growin'."

It was nearly lunchtime when they bid Hagrid goodbye for a hearty lunch in the Great Hall. Ron's slug problem was nearly gone except for the occasional hiccup that caused the smallest of slugs to slip from his mouth. As they entered the crowded but cool Entrance Hall, a loud voice rang out, "There you are, Potter—Weasley." It was Professor McGonagall walking toward them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" Ron asked as he suppressed a burp.

"You, Mr. Weasley, will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," Professor McGonagall said. "And no magic, Weasley—elbow grease." She turned to Hayden. "And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

It was difficult to determine who had the worst assignment. Argus Filch, the caretaker, made no effort to hide how much he loathed the students but pairing Hayden with Lockhart…that was just cruel.

"Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" Hayden asked desperately.

"Certainly not," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

As soon as Professor McGonagall was out of sight, Orion let out a snort. "Of course he asked for you, Hayden," he said sarcastically. "You two are such kindred spirits."

"This is a nightmare," Hayden groaned. "What am I going to do? I can't stand being anywhere near him much less spending hours answering his fan mail."

"Filch'll have me there all night," Ron moaned. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

It was with great reluctance that Hayden and Ron joined Orion, Neville and Hermione in the library for the afternoon to tackle schoolwork but it ended up serving as a welcomed distraction until Hayden and Ron were forced to leave for their detentions. As they left the library, Orion could have sworn he had heard Hayden and Ron vow to never do anything that would earn them a detention again. Well, there was always hope.

With Neville and Hermione retreating back to Gryffindor Tower for the night, Orion was left in silence to finally gain some ground on the final chapters of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 4 until curfew. He couldn't afford to procrastinate any more if he wanted to complete fourth year material for the majority of he courses by Christmas. Transfiguration was bound to take the most time. For some reason, he always struggled with the subject.

Orion had just managed to finish the final chapter when Madam Pince kicked him out with only ten minutes left before curfew. The empty, dimly lit hallways certainly gave off a creepy feeling that urged Orion to maintain his brisk pace. It was the perfect atmosphere for something to jump out of the shadows or surprise you when you turned a corner. Orion had a feeling that his father would find this situation rather entertaining. It was the perfect atmosphere to venture around in as Padfoot and scare people who would undoubtedly believe he was the infamous Grim, an omen of death.

Reaching the moving staircases, Orion was abruptly pulled from his thoughts by voice that sent chills down his spine. "Come…come to me…Let me rip you…Let me tear you… Let me kill you…"

Orion's wand was raised in a blink of an eye as he frantically looked around for the source of the voice only to find nothing out of the ordinary. Slowly, Orion walked up the stairs, turning his body a quarter turn with every step he took. As strange as the voice had sounded, the intent was clear. Someone or something wanted to kill someone or something else.

Orion had nearly reached the third floor, seeing nothing out of the ordinary when a hand grasped his shoulder. Without even thinking, Orion grabbed his attacker by the wrist and spun around; twisting his attacker's arm to the point a cry of pain was heard. His wand was ready, pointing at a dark haired head…a messy dark haired head.

It took a long moment for Orion to realize that his 'attacker' was actually Hayden Potter.

Releasing Hayden, Orion let out a relieved breath as he staggered back against the wall, careful to maintain his balance on the step he was on. "What in the name of Merlin were thinking, scaring me like that?" Orion asked, silently pleading for his pounding heart to calm down.

Hayden grasped his aching shoulder as he rose to his feet. "If I would've known you'd act like that I wouldn't have done it," he said, wincing as he slowly rotated his shoulder. "Why did you act like that?"

Orion stared at Hayden incredulously. "Are you mad?" he asked. "Didn't you hear that voice? Didn't you hear it say it was going to kill someone or something?"

Hayden's eyes widened as he looked around frantically. "What voice?" he asked quickly. "Where did you hear it?"

Orion hesitated. "You didn't hear anything about ten minutes ago?" he asked slowly.

Hayden shook his head. "But I only just left detention," he offered. "Lockhart was going on and on about some of his fans so I could have missed it." He cast a cautious look around. "Er—maybe we should head back to Gryffindor Tower…just to be safe."

Orion had to agree. Together, they hurried to the Gryffindor Tower while keeping their eyes and ears open for any hint of the mysterious voice but they only encountered silence. Orion didn't know whether to be relieved or puzzled by that. The voice had sounded so determined—too determined to just give up. But the harsh reality was that regardless of what he heard, what chance did he have against something intent on killing? His father wasn't here to save him this time.

Entering the nearly empty Gryffindor Common Room, Orion finally realized how late it actually was. He ignored Hayden's questioning gaze as he went straight up to the dormitory. As confused as he was, talking about the mysterious voice was the last thing Orion wanted to do at the moment. He needed to calm down and look at the entire situation rationally. It was, of course, possible that he was overreacting. It could have been a ghost or someone trying to scare him.

Stepping into the dormitory, Orion immediately noticed Ron's empty bed and mentally debated whether to be concerned or hopeful. There was the possibility that Ron had heard the voice although it was highly unlikely if Hayden hadn't heard a thing. I'll wait to morning. If nothing's happened then I won't say anything. If something has happened, I'll tell Grandad what I heard. It's the best I can do.

After all, there really couldn't be another killer at Hogwarts, right? Voldemort was far from Hogwarts now. The threat should be gone. It should be a normal year—a peaceful year, right?

Pulling on his pajamas, Orion murmured a quite goodnight to Hayden before crawling into bed and forcing himself to calm down in order to drift off to dreamland. This was certainly one of those times that it seemed morning couldn't come quick enough.