Logan made his way to the Quidditch pitch in a daze, still reviewing what he'd seen in his head. Dumbledore had given him the Penseive to use and it was now sitting, or hovering, above the desk in his room. When he reached the pitch it was covered in rows of first years. He scanned those in the bleachers until he found Storm and Hank. He made his way up to them and collapsed onto the bench next to Hank. Storm leaned forward to look at him, "Logan? Are you all right?" He shook his head, but before Storm could ask why, Madam Hooch the flying instructor began the lesson, commanding everyone's attention. "First years, welcome to your first flying class. Place your right hand over your broom, that's it, and when I say go, speak very firmly, UP." She blew her whistle and every student standing on the pitch began yelling "UP." Pietro and Wanda were the first to get their brooms in their hands, followed by Kurt, Kitty, Evan, Charlie Weasley, Jean, Scott, and Rogue. When everyone had their broom in their hands, Madam Hooch moved on. "Swing your right leg over your broom and when I blow the whistle, gently lean forward and fly upward, circle the pitch, and land. Do not do anything other than what I just told you. Everyone understand? Good." Tweet! Went the whistle and up went no one. Logan groaned inwardly: if this was the whole of the flying lesson he wasn't so sure he was glad he came. He really wanted to watch the Weapon X scene again, no matter how horrible, along with the brief second he'd looked at the picture with the man he'd seen. Please somebody fly.
Kurt was first to leave the ground, but Logan wasn't entirely sure it had nothing to do with his teleportation. It didn't take long for others to follow suit and the lesson passed without any major incident, until the last five minutes. Madam Hooch called everyone down to the ground, but as Kitty neared it her broom jerked upwards, nearly throwing her, and began to spin very fast. Kitty's screams echoed in the vast open space and everyone's eyes were trained on Kitty; everyone but Logan. His eyes were fixed on the hooded figure hidden under the stands on the opposite side of the pitch. He could distinctly see the person's wand pointed at Kitty. He let out a low growl and began making his way to the stairs leading to the pitch. "Logan where are you going!" Storm cried. He turned and jerked his thumb to the figure, "I'm gonna skin them alive." By the time he reached the spot (with Storm trailing behind with shouts of "Don't!" and "I swear if you do!") the figure had disappeared. Logan scowled and began sniffing him out, tracing him to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, but didn't make it any farther because he was stopped by both Hagrid and Storm. Storm was whisper-scolding him so Hagrid couldn't hear her and Hagrid was going on about being careful because of werewolves, (Logan knew perfectly well that it was still daytime) centaurs, ("Stupid horses," Logan muttered) and giant spiders. Logan raised an eyebrow and looked up at Hagrid who grunted, "Shouldn' have told ya' tha'." Logan rolled his eyes and turned away from both he and Storm. "I'll see you at dinner."
Logan had one last class before dinner and it was the second years. The class continued with an essay Logan had been forced to give them (by McGonagall), and spent the whole class talking to Laura who'd finished her essay. "So, you got detention." It wasn't a question. Laura sighed, "Snape was asking for it. He called my potion awful and-" she stopped abruptly. Logan leaned back in his chair and put his feet on his desk, "And what?" Laura frowned before continuing, "Everyone knows he wants this job. He said that for once he thought that Dumbledore might have hired a good teacher but so far he was proved wrong." Logan smirked, "And so what did you do to earn yourself a detention?" Laura smiled slyly, "Well I just happened to rig my cauldron to explode when he was walking by. And it's his fault we were brewing a swelling solution. But I think it might have been the breaking point when I remarked that I'd told him my potion was fine." Logan snorted, "So you were proving a point?" She nodded and he laughed, "Next time, tell him he can take it up with me." Laura smiled, "I will. I take it you two didn't hit it off?" Logan snorted again, "If I'd hit him off a cliff than yes we did hit it off." The rest of class passed with conversation between the two and when the bell rang Laura waved goodbye before leaving with some friends.
It was nearly one in the morning on Saturday, and Logan still hadn't slept. He hadn't even changed out of his robes from the day before. He sat at his desk staring into the Pensieve hovering above it, contemplating whether or not to review what he'd already seen about a hundred times. He extracted his claws, the moonlight catching them and reflecting onto the surface of the Pensieve. Logan is everything all right? Professor X's voice echoed in his head, interrupting his thoughts. Logan stood up and headed to the door, disregarding the time. Professor X was waiting for him when he arrived. "Do you have anything you wish to talk about?" "Charles do you know about the war that just went on here?" Professor X nodded, "The Wizarding War yes," he turned to look out the window, "Albus told me about it. A terrible dark wizard rose to power, bent on destroying those he deemed unfit to have magic; unfit to even live. But the war ended over three years ago: the dark wizard was defeated." Logan looked up, "Defeated? Then he's not dead?" Professor X shook his head, "Albus believes that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is still out there, biding his time in a weakened state." "Well I want to personally thank him for these," Logan growled, flashing his claws again. Professor X raised an eyebrow, "I thought that was because of the Weapon X project?" Logan scowled and flicked his wand, using the recently mastered summoning spell to summon the Pensieve. "See for yourself Charles." Professor X leaned forward and fell through the surface of the shallow bowl falling, as Logan did, into the dimly lit laboratory. The man Logan was painfully sure he knew began the sickening procedure all over again and Professor X watched with wide eyes as the captive Logan struggled. When the scene ended and he left the Pensieve, Professor X turned to Logan who was leaning against the wall, gauging his reaction. Logan prodded another one of the memories and motioned to Professor X again. When he returned, his lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes were closed, deep in thought. He opened his mouth to speak but Logan stopped him, "There's one more." They both entered this time, and the Quidditch pitch materialized in front of them, the same as it had been on the day of the flying lesson. Logan began walking to the opposite side of the grassy arena, breaking into a run when a cloaked figure appeared. Professor X followed closely and gasped when the face of the figure became fleetingly visible. A shadow passed over there face again and they fled as the image dissolved. Logan had his fists clenched, "Do you see the connection?" he growled. Professor X nodded, "Has anyone else seen this?" Logan shook his head and Professor X nodded, "We must tell Albus."
Dumbledore was awake in his office and even though it was nearing two in the morning, Logan wasn't surprised. The painting of Phineas Nigellus sniffed in irritation, but said nothing as they entered. Dumbledore set down the book he'd been reading, "Charles. Can I help you at this early hour?" Professor X sighed, "Sorry to disturb you Albus but I thought you should see this." Dumbledore emerged from the Penseive for the third time and calmly sat back in his chair; it was impossible to see if he was worried. "Well?" Logan asked. Dumbledore looked at them over his half-moon spectacles, "Well I see that your past has more to do with us than you thought. As for the figure you saw, I don't believe it was Voldemort. He would never risk exposing himself in such a weak state, and honestly I don't believe he's strong enough to stand, at least not on his own. However, I will add to the protection already surrounding the school." Professor X nodded and turned to go, Logan following him with slight reluctance. "Logan, I do ask that you leave the memory of the flying lesson with me." Logan turned and wordlessly dropped the memory into a vial held out by Dumbledore. "Thank you. Now Logan I also ask that you move your meeting with Severus to this morning." Logan scowled slightly but nodded.
Snape was none too thrilled to have to deal with Logan earlier than he planned, and Logan was equally as happy with not ever coming to the potions master's office again. But unfortunately both Dumbledore and Professor X thought it a good idea. Logan sat in the chair in front of Snape's desk, purposely avoiding looking at the gross liquid filled jars around him. Especially the one he was convinced was looking at him. Snape was pacing back and forth in front of him and if he didn't stop Logan was going to break his legs. Snape stopped pacing and turned to Logan, audibly sighing. "If this is inevitable, let's get it over with." Logan nodded and glanced at his watch, painfully aware it had only been five minutes of the three hours he was supposed to be there. Snape noticed and smirked, "Glad to see you can arrive on time for once." Logan smirked back, "Glad to see you have a facial expression other than scowling." Snape scowled and Logan's smirk grew, "Guess I was wrong." Snape narrowed his eyes and lowered himself into his desk chair. Logan began to glance around at the odd jars, aware that Snape was waiting for his attention, but choosing to stretch the thin patience the potion's professor had. "Are you quite finished wasting my time?" Snape hissed through clenched teeth. Logan turned to look at him, feigning innocence.
Snape was practically steaming out of his ears, his face turning a mottled red. Logan found that irritating him was like a game; a really, really amusing game. Logan tilted his head slightly, "Well what is it I'm supposed to do?" Snape stood up again, coming to face Logan in his chair, "Focus on the memory that makes the least amount of sense: the most confusing." Logan nodded, determined that the sooner they got this over with, the better. He closed his eyes and focused on a memory shortly before the Weapon X program. It was a mix of trees and wilderness, a cabin, and the face of a woman he supposed he knew. He opened his eyes slightly to see Snape waiting impatiently. Logan nodded and Snape pointed his wand at Logan's head. "Legilimens!" The memory surfaced, the images eerily clear. Trees appeared, the cabin coming into focus through them, the image zooming into the door. It opened and showed flashing images of the women: laughing, cooking, smiling, and dancing. The sky darkened and showed the outline of two figures on the balcony, arms around each other in a warm embrace. The picture ended abruptly, bringing Logan back to the present. Snape was standing over him, wand still raised, sneering. "Who was she?" Logan rubbed his head, trying to remember. "Silverfox," he breathed. Snape continued to sneer; his wand still raised, "And where is she now?" Logan closed his eyes, the memory no longer jumbled and hitting him painfully. "She's-" he replayed the memory again, "She's a traitor," he snarled but then softened, "And she'd dead because of me." Snape lowered his wand, sneer gone and his face pale, lips pressed tightly together. He closed his eyes, as if trying to block out a terrible memory of his own. Logan wasn't paying attention to him though, he was now recalling another memory, less painful, but of a time shortly after their cabin had been destroyed, this time not by Logan. As the building burned, Silverfox had handed him a scrap of paper with a strange drawing of a snake coming out of a skull like a tongue. Silverfox had said they were old acquaintances of hers that had wanted to 'talk' and it had gotten out of hand. The drawing, she'd said, was how they identified each other and proceeded to show him the one in her left forearm. It was dark and in the flickering light of the fire looked to be moving, but she had assured him there was nothing to worry about. "Death Eaters," Logan muttered, and Snape, now in his desk chair, turned to him. "What did you say?" Logan raised an eyebrow, forgetting momentarily that he'd been there. "Death Eaters. What do you know about them?" Snape scowled, "Death Eaters are the Dark Lord's followers. They identify each other by a mark on their arms: a snake-" "Coming out of a skull?" Snape nodded, eyeing Logan warily, "How do you know this?" Logan hesitated: should he really tell his third least favorite person? He weighed the pros and cons hastily: the pros being he'd learn more about why Silverfox had given him up to the Weapon X program and the cons being that he'd be relying on Snape for answers. Logan sighed and told him about the Death Eater raid and Silverfox's betrayal, which he was less willing to tell. Snape listened quietly, his face betraying none of the emotion he felt during Logan's tale. When he had finished, Snape noticed one small problem with the entire tale: "I thought you said she was dead because of you." It was not a question, and Logan knew it. "She is. Sabertooth killed her to get to me." Snape cocked his head, "How do you know this?"
Logan was slightly confused as to why Snape was so interested in this detail, that wasn't even in the story he told. "When I found her she was covered in cuts and gashes. He did that, and she bled to death," he growled. Snape nodded absentmindedly, and Logan was briefly reminded of the odd old man that ran this place, and the reason he was here. A thought occurred to him: Had this been Dumbledore's plan: to get him to trust Snape? He internally shook his head and turned his attention back to Snape, who seemed ready to speak. "If your girlfriend was involved with the Death Eaters and left of her own accord, it is extremely impossible that the Dark Lord let that slip by unnoticed. The reason for her death is very similar to the effects of the curse 'Sectumsempra' which causes many cuts to appear on the body and bleed profusely. Although she may not have been killed right away, I think she was killed when she was no longer of use, and was on the verge of leaving therefore she couldn't have been let to live or she would tell the Ministry about what she'd seen and heard. I don't think the Dark Lord himself killed her, for that is considered a 'great honor,' but rather that one of his most trusted Death Eaters took care of the job." He said it all almost thoughtfully, and it unnerved Logan at how he sounded practically fond of the terrible deeds done by this 'Dark Lord.' Logan now noticed that Snape had had his right arm clenched over his left, exactly where the Dark Mark would be. Logan narrowed his eyes, "It seems you know a lot about this. I can't help but, wonder, if you experienced it," he said, clenching his fists. Snape looked to him and smirked, "Yes I was a Death Eater. But I am no longer with them, or I wouldn't be teaching would I? I speak from experience yes, I invented 'Sectumsempra' and should know better than anyone the effects. I also know many people who met the same fate your girlfriend did, though although I know why they were killed I admit I don't know why she was." His eyes locked on Logan's and Logan knew it would be better to tell him his suspicions, because he had a suspicion that Dumbledore told the guy everything anyway. "Silverfox sold me out for Weapon X." Snape now genuinely looked confused and Logan wished he had a camera, "Weapon X?" Logan nodded and held up his fist, letting the blades in between his knuckles slide out in front of a now completely bewildered Snape. "Weapon X was a program that made these and the rest of my bones coated in adamantium." Snape had regained his composure, "Adamantium?" Logan nodded again, suddenly aware that he had, until this point, never been able to explain what had happened to him. Although Snape would not have been on the list of people to tell first, he was the only one here. So Logan began explaining that his basic mutant powers had been regenerative healing and bone claws, that after Weapon X had been a completely indestructible skeleton coated in adamantium, a metal stronger than steel. And after a mishap during his escape, he had suffered from amnesia and remembered very little about his past, though World War II was most of the time clear. He explained that due to the healing factor it was almost impossible to know his age, though now his memory was restored he was pretty sure he was approaching his 100th birthday, again catching Snape off guard for the third time- that must be some sort of record- who, for a fraction of a minute, dropped his intimidating, serious nature to exclaim that there was no possible way Logan was close to Dumbledore's age, which was 102 years old, because he only looked like he was a couple years older than himself(Snape). Logan actually laughed, saying how it was slightly convenient to be stuck looking like he was in his forties, and Snape shook his head saying he was wrong that Logan was barely older than himself, because he was only twenty-four. Logan leaned back in his chair, surprised that he'd been in one of his least favorite person's presence and hadn't killed him. He was even more surprised that talking to said person had worked: his memories were now clear and made sense.
Word spread quite quickly that there were mutants at the school, and that three of them were teachers. Personally Jean couldn't help but wonder how they'd been so dense. Kurt and Mr. McCoy were both blue and furry, Kitty had slid through the table twice at breakfast on Wednesday, and Logan's claws had become known on Wednesday as well, with the help of Peeves the poltergeist who often followed Logan around to irritate him by yelling "Cranky Claws!" in his face. And just the other day, Jean had levitated her feather in Charms without a wand. Suffice to say pretty much everybody had learned that she, Scott, Rogue, Kurt, Kitty, Logan, Ororo, Mr. McCoy, the Professor, Evan, and even Pietro and Wanda, were mutants. Jean had prepared herself for the scorn, name-calling, and shunning that often took place when people learned they were mutants. She was therefore surprised when, after dinner on Sunday, the girl she'd befriended from Hufflepuff, Nymphadora Tonks, still wanted to be her friend. "Duh, everyone here is different! You're just a little more different, but in a super cool way! You can move stuff with your mind right? That's so cool! Wish I could do that. Hey, are you trying out for the commentating gig?" Jean raised her eyebrows, "I hadn't thought about it. I mean I could, but I think Kitty or Kurt would be better at it." Kitty, who'd been behind them, phased through Jean to talk to Tonks(as Nymphadora liked being called) "Yeah, like, it'd be so cool to commentate a wizard sport you know? Do you guys have microphones or something?" Tonk nodded, "It's kind of like a microphone. I mean it's, well, I know! I'll show you guys!" She grabbed Jean's hand, Jean grabbed Kitty's, and the three ran down the hall. They arrived on the Quidditch pitch and Tonk's led them to one of the tallest, and smallest, stands. As they climbed the steps, Tonk's explained about Quidditch. "So there are seven players to a team: one Keeper, three Chasers, two Beaters, and a Seeker. The Keeper guards the goal posts," she pointed to the three hoops at either end of the pitch, "From the other team's Chaser. The Chasers take the Quaffle and try to throw it through one of those hoops. The Beaters have to bats, kinda like the ones the please-men carry," Jean and Kitty snickered slightly at her pronunciation of 'policemen,' "And they try to hit the Bludgers at the other team's players. The Seeker is almost the most important person. They have to be fast and agile to catch the Snitch. That's the smallest ball, and when the Seeker catches it the team gets a hundred and fifty points and the game ends." They reach the top of the stands and Tonk's raced over to a small box. She pressed the button on top and a board slid out from the top, as well as a drawer from the bottom. She pointed to the board with two number wheels used to keep score as well as two slots for the names of the houses playing, "This is where the score is kept. And this," she picked up the bell-shaped microphone from the drawer, "Is the microphone thing. You talk into it and it magnifies your voice with magic!" She cleared her throat, "Hello?" Her voice echoed in the empty stands. She set it back, pressing the button again and closing the box. "See?"
Kitty was bouncing on the balls of her feet, waiting outside McGonagall's office with Kurt. She opened the door and stepped back to let them in. "Ms. Pryde, Mr. Wagner, you've had my class for a week. I assure you your grades are fine." Kitty shook her head quickly, "No we wanted to ask about the commentating for Quidditch." McGonagall raised an eyebrow, "I am not your head of house. I suggest you take it up with Professor McCoy." "Mr., er, Professor McCoy said we were the only Hufflepuffs who wanted to try-out. He said to ask you cause you, like, know more about it too." McGonagall sighed and looked at the list that had the names of students who wanted to commentate this year. It was a rather short list: no one from Slytherin wanted to do it, no one from Ravenclaw, and only one person from Gryffindor. She was actually glad these to two had stepped up because the Gryffindor student was one whom she knew to get in trouble. She looked up at the brown-haired girl and the blue-furred boy, "Very well. Quidditch tryouts for Gryffindor are scheduled for tomorrow after dinner. If the two of you don't have anything else planned perhaps you could take turns commentating on the tryouts so I can judge how well you do." Kurt and Kitty glanced at each other before nodding. McGonagall nodded her head as well, "Very well I shall inform the Gryffindor student. Now I suggest the two of you get to bed. Curfew is not very far away."