Chapter 7: Plans and Change of Plans

Look! It's actually chapter 7 this time! :) Sorry it took so long. Thanks for all the good wishes with my thumb getting better. I appreciate them all! Hope you like this chapter.

"It's time to make our move
I'm shaking off the rust
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here
I'm staring down myself
Counting up the years

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
You don't need"

-Stop and Stare by OneRepublic

Nanda's POV:

Vanan looked at me with wide eyes. He still couldn't believe I had made a stick, a box, and a rope from nothing. With all his bookworm-smarts, you would have thought he had heard of magical clay, but he apparently hadn't. Grant just smiled and helped me set it up correctly. There was this mutual effort in the air, for we had all used our heads to assess this situation.

"All we need now is a piece of food," I said when we had finished setting it up. "Cheese maybe?"

Vanan chuckled. "Rats don't only like cheese. That's such a stereotype. They'll eat any type of food."

"Yea…" I said. Something didn't feel right with this, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Hmmm" Grant hummed. "What if we catch someone's pet that got away? I don't think they would enjoy it much if we fed their rat to your owl."

That was it! Students could have rats as pets, and we didn't want to accidently feed it to Sparo. I nodded. "Yea, so time for plan B." The box, rope, and stick vanished into nothing and I sat on my bed thinking of a different plan. It was actually quite fun to have something to do, rather than just sit and listen to Vanan talk on and on about books he read and how they smelt.

"I still don't understand exactly what kind of magic that was," Vanan commented as he stared at where the magic clay had been. "You will surely have to teach me how to do that one day."

"Hey, maybe you could put it in a book and he can smell it." I smiled at Gary's joke and we both laughed a bit while Vanan was oblivious. "But, yea. I think that would be interesting to learn."

I smiled. Maybe my roommates wouldn't be so bad after all. "Alright. I'll teach you both. But first, we have to feed Sparo." I looked to Sparo and he squawked and pecked at the cage.

Then we heard a smack. I glanced at Vanan, who had smacked his forehead with his palm. "Of course!" he said. "How idiotic of me not to think of this sooner. Why don't you just release him outside and let him catch his own rat?"

It was so obvious. And here we were, thinking of some plan to catch one. Owls are predators; they were born to catch their prey. Such a revelation made me want to smack my own forehead.

"Oh. Right," said Grant.

I got up and went to the cage, but before opening it, I had an idea. "Do either of you, by chance, have any parchment and a quill and ink with you right now?"

"Of course." Vanan said, and pulled all the items out of his trunk at the end of his bed. He handed them to me, and I wrote a letter to my dads.

Dear Papa and Dad,

I know I've only been gone a few hours, but so much has happened. I've made friends. On the train I met twins, Lysander and Lorcan, who told me they are the sons of Papa's friend. They are a bit weird, but they are smart and resourceful. I also met a girl named Marcie. She's such a Gryffindor. Of course, I also met two guys who I'm rooming with, Grant and Vanan. Grant likes birds and he cares for them. Vanan likes to read (and smell) books. I've been sorted into Ravenclaw. It's been really fun so far.

Love Your Pup,
Nanda

P.S. If you could feed Sparo a rat, he would be very happy. He's been hungry, and I haven't had time to let him outside to eat.

I sighed and folded the letter. After taking Sparo from his cage, I handed him the letter, opened the window, and he flew off my arm.

"Who'd you send that letter to?" Vanan asked.

"My dads. I'm sure they'd want to hear about which house I was sorted into." Grant nodded.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," I doubted Vanan would expect any less of an answer if I told him I did mind. "But how is it with your dads?"

I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know your dads used to be enemies and all. Do they ever fight? Or anything awful like that…"

I shook my head. "No. I've never heard them fight once. Or even disagree on something. Even when they talk about political things."

"Oh," was all Vanan said in reply.

I half smiled. "Yea. Lots of people seem to think that because of who they were in the past that they are affected now. But really, they are not anything like I've heard they used to be."

The room was silent a moment, and then Grant chuckled to himself. Vanan looked at him like he was awfully rude. "What?" he said. "I just remembered what he said to that blonde brat, Scorpius, earlier."

I couldn't help but grin, but there wasn't really anything funny about it at all. "You heard that? How is that funny?"

Grant's smile faded. "I don't mean it to be rude, but we all knew you were an orphan in the past, but you threw it in his face, and he had to back down so he wouldn't look like an absolute git. That really showed him."

I smiled bigger. "Really? I just wanted him to stop bothering me. He is a git."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me twice." Grant said.

Vanan was looking between us. "Who's Scorpius?"

I scoffed. "Trust me. You don't want to know him. He's the whiney, spoiled, and annoying son of Malfoy. He's, of course, a Slytherin."

Vanan wrinkled his nose. "Slytherins…They think they are so clever, when really they only have a bit of brains every now and then. And they use them for awful things…I once read a book about this one wizard who was a Slytherin. It smelt like salt water taffy, of which I absolutely hate. It makes me want to vomit."

"Scorpius Malfoy makes me want to vomit." I said.

Grant chuckled. We fell back into a silence, but it wasn't really such a horrible feeling; not awkward, or pressured, just relaxed and pondering. Maybe I would like being a Ravenclaw. I would never be around idiotic people ever again. That was a relief. But still, something inside me was squirming, and made me so uncomfortable. I couldn't remember what it was for a moment; it was like a distant memory after such an exciting event, but something reminded me. It was my music. I hadn't played anything in so long, and it was just begging to be let loose. Really, it was awful to keep it cooped up for so long. If Vanan thought my magic clay was interesting… I was a bit iffy though. I didn't have anything to play, and I didn't know how to transfigure anything, not to mention I had barely met these boys. My music was something personal; a deep, inner part of myself that held my secrets and worries. I wasn't sure I was ready to share myself with them.

But still, my music pushed against my skin, trying to force its way out.

My wrist flicked unintentionally, and a breeze whipped through the air with a lovely whoosh, like distant rain, but smoother. Vanan and Grant didn't particularly move at all, and so I figured they hadn't heard. That temporary loss of control startled me; I had no idea my music was in such control. It was worrying. Obviously, I would have to let out my music whenever possible, because I don't believe losing control of my body would be so great during class.

I sighed internally about my newest conclusion. My hand traveled to my neck charm that was always around my neck. The edges were ridged, much like coins can be. It was tempting to pet the wolf, and arrive in the wondrous hills I had grown up in, but would I be able to get back here? Possibly, but I didn't want to take a chance and find out; it was much too risky. I was no daring and curious Gryffindor. I was (apparently) a smart, practical Ravenclaw. And of course, there are always smarter ways to do things than to just bombard whatever the problem may be.

Well, they will have to find out sooner or later. I couldn't just keep my roommates from my music. That was settled, but then there was the other problem. It wouldn't hurt to ask if they might have some ideas for me. Three minds are better than one. I glanced over at Vanan, and then over to Grant. Vanan was inhaling the scent of a very worn book (of which I could assume was his favorite, judging by his expression). Grant was just lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Grant, may I ask you something?" He removed his brown eyes from the ceiling to look my way. There was no reply, so I just continued on. "Would you happen to have anything…musical?"

He looked at me, and then looked around him. I realized he had no trunk at the end of his bed, just a small backpack. Where are his books? And school supplies? Surely he wasn't without them… He shook his head silently. I bit my tongue; I wasn't sure I would exactly want the answer to the questions I had just asked myself. I sighed and looked over to Vanan.

"How about you, Vanan?"

Vanan took one more sniff of his book before looking back to me. "What? I'm sorry. I was lost in this book. It smells like peppermint and chocolate." The title read Small Projects for the Hobby-less Male. How in the world such a book would smell that way was a mystery to me.

"Oh. Uh…would you happen to have anything musical?"

"Of course!" Vanan smiled and reached into his trunk. In his hand was a book. About music. Not exactly what I meant… "Here. This one smells like cinnamon." He handed it to me and I took it.

At first, I was reluctant to bring it to my nose, but I figured there was no harm in it. I inhaled and my nostrils filled with the scent of paper, like any other book. I pulled it away and looked over it. Maybe I smelt it wrong? I shook my head and placed the book on the bed in front of me where I sat. Musical Theory and Various Types of Instruments. I brushed my fingers over the hardcover lightly, and when they were off, the cover to the book lifted itself and opened to the first page. My eyebrows rose and the corner of my mouth tugged up a bit. As I was about to try it again with the next page, Grant spoke up.

"You could always ask someone else. I'm sure there will be others in the common room."

Yes, but my music is private. I sighed and decided maybe he was right. After all, I had to control my music before it controlled me.

3rd Person POV:

Harry and Tom were sitting in their chairs in the small meeting room (Harry in the golden one, Tom in the Green one). Snape had found them (thankfully after they had found their clothes once again) and told them of the important news he had to inform them of. Snape made no effort to sit, but instead stood in front of the grey chair between them and looked at them both, waiting for some cue that they were ready to receive the information. Of course, they never could have been ready for it.

"Go on, Severus," said Tom, nodding his head to him once.

Snape took a deep breath through his nose. His greying black hair moved ever so slightly when he did so. He was sure (more than sure) that they would not like to hear this, but there was no other choice but to tell them. They were allies he so desperately needed (not that they would ever be enemies, of course. But he would need their help).

"I received a letter earlier today. Travers was requesting my participation, or rather my help. Apparently, he, Bellatrix, Fenrir, Thorfinn, Antonin, Alecto and Amycus have made their own group after you released them from yours. They plan to carry out the things you did not, and create a new world of pureblooded wizards. He did not inform me exactly of what they have planned specifically to do, but I do imagine they would unleash a certain type of chaos that no others may be capable of."

They both stared at him. Harry could not believe his ears. Bellatrix and the other insane ex-Death Eaters had formed a new group? And they wanted Snape to help them? And his son was at school right now, possibly in danger if the new group decided to attack the school? He would rip their arms and legs off if they ever even tried to lay a finger on his son. He wanted nothing more than to go and fight this battle and get it straightened out before anything awful could happen. He was as ready as ever…

Thoughts ran through Tom's mind, one right after the last, circling, and calculating, and concerned. They would have to keep this information as secretive as possible. No one could know, so that panic would not spread through the Wizarding world. Merlin knows they didn't want the Ministry to panic and refuse to believe that the group didn't exist. They all knew how much would get accomplished if that happened (which, of course, would be nothing, if not create more problems). "How many people have you told?"

"Why does it matter?" Harry said before Snape could get a word out. "We have to put this down before they take action."

"Harry, that would not be wise. We have no proof other than Snape's letter that this group even exists. If we went to the Ministry now, they would tell us it was not enough." Tom loved Harry, but he really could be thick sometimes.

"Ministry? Why can't we go handle this ourselves? The Ministry will refuse to believe it, much less put it down, no matter how much evidence we have."

Tom sighed. "At this moment, there is nothing to handle. They have not taken action yet, and we have nothing to defend. If we go running in to start a battle now, others will only see it as the Dark Lord covering his tracks, or worse. There is nothing we can do until they have taken action. Now…" Tom looked to Snape from Harry's fierce glare. "How many?"

"The only other person I have informed is Hermione. You agree in my choice of trust, yes?"

"Of course." Tom had come to know Hermione as the bright witch she always was (since Harry insisted they visited Ron and Hermione and Rose often enough), and knew of how amazingly smart and thorough she was. If he hadn't known she was a Gryffindor, he most definitely would have taken her for a Ravenclaw.

Harry nodded in agreement, biting his lip to keep himself from jumping up and going to find Bellatrix himself. He didn't exactly know what had possessed him to hate her so (maybe it was that she was so insane, she celebrated killing people, like Dumbledore), but he couldn't help the burning in his fists that so wanted to make contact with her face. Of course, he trusted Hermione with this information; that was a given. They had been friends since first year, and he knew her so well. He could picture her reaction when she found out, like she was making that face in front of him right now.

Snape looked from Tom to Harry. He could see Harry's reluctance at holding the patience Tom had insisted upon him. For a moment, he wished he could be young again; able to feel again, and not dwell too much on what others think. But of course, he hadn't had such remarkable memories from that time; he wouldn't dare relive them. "I think it may be in our best interests to wait it out. We will need to inform the Minister of Magic. That will ensure extra precautions are taken."

Harry sighed. This was against everything he was, but he knew deep down it would do nothing to try and attack now, since they were obviously not even organized yet. But still…

"I agree. For now, that is all we will do." Tom nodded once at Snape, who nodded back and left the room.

Hermione paced in front of Snape's office. He said he'd be back soon. She didn't know how long exactly it had been since she had gotten his letter, but it seemed like he wasn't coming fast enough. She needed to speak with him now. Not only did she have to talk with him about the possible threat of a new evil that may be forming, but also about what she was doing before she had gotten the letter. She hadn't quite finished, since she was interrupted by the letter, but she had found enough to tell him something important.

After some time passed, she realized she still had classes to prepare for tomorrow. She left him a note.

Dear Severus,

I received your letter. I waited by your office for you to return, but I had to leave to finish my preparations for class. I will, of course, come back to discuss what actions you have chosen to take with the boy. I have something else to inform you of as soon as you are available. I was doing some research that Harry had asked me to do, and I stumbled upon something that may spark your interest, as well as someone else's. He may be more at risk than you may have thought. Please send me a message as soon as you can.

Sincerely,
Hermione Weasley

She charmed the letter, and it slipped underneath the door, making its way to his desk. Hermione sighed and reluctantly turned away, heading back to her classroom near the Gryffindor tower.

Scorpius Malfoy's POV:

I hated my dad. I wanted nothing more to do with him. But what was I to do? He was Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, and he would do what he damn well pleased. Or so everyone said. But all I saw him for was a man who would do anything to keep what was given to him, and who lived to please others to remain of value. I didn't want to be a Malfoy. But what other choice was I given?

I sat in the common room, two goons beside me whose names I didn't care to remember. They weren't real friends, like they thought they were. I only let them follow me around so I would look tuff, and no one would dare cross me. It seemed to be working so far. No one in Slytherin said anything. In fact, they steered clear of me completely. I had a whole couch to myself. It was rather nice, but that meant I wouldn't make any other friends. I wanted a real friend, but I only half understood how to have one. I didn't dare tell anyone this, though. I was a Malfoy. I didn't need friends.

But I bet Nanda has made some friends already. I hadn't meant to let my thoughts drift that way, but once they did, I was reminded of his earlier comment. "Being an orphan, there were more important things to care about than last names. Like having a family." How awful it was for him to say something like that. I felt terrible. My father would have told me to continue to irritate him, and scolded me for not doing so. But I just couldn't be that awful. Not that I wanted to be awful at all, but I really didn't want to be that awful. I wondered to myself. He probably has more friends than me. Real friends too. Not fake ones. That wasn't fair.

Looking around the room at the décor, it almost felt as if I was back at home. I shivered at the thought. I had grown to love my house, it had once been of such good taste, with silver, and gold, and navy blue, and wonderful colors everywhere. But more recently, once my dad had started inviting over (what I assumed to be) his friends he had from work. I didn't like them much; they were so odd, and many of them liked to call me weird names, like "heir of Malfoy", and others behind my back (when they thought I wasn't listening) like "little blonde brat". I don't remember when, but our décor began to change, from lovely almost royal colors, to blacks, and greys, and most especially greens and dark reds. There weren't any reds in the Slytherin room, thankfully. The red things scared me, almost like they had been painted with blood.

"You cold, Scorpius?" the goon to my left asked. He was rather large in build for a first-year, and (if he so desired) could beat me to a pulp with his bare hands. I didn't care much for his dark hair and dark eyes, for they made him look paler than I was, but with more grey undertones, almost like he was some sort of zombie.

"I'm fine. It's just a bit chilly in here. I'm going back to my room."

"Uh, alright," said the other goon. He had tanned skin, but not very darkly tanned. He had dark hair and eyes as well, making me stand out between the both of them. He wasn't as large as the other one, but he was far more anxious to bully other kids, as I had learned. "Should we go with you?"

I scoffed. "I don't need bodyguards to follow me everywhere I go. You two are fine without me." I stood and made my way to my room. My roommates were rather quiet (either in general or just around me, I couldn't exactly tell). From what I had noticed, one liked to sleep and the other liked to stare at walls. Even now, neither had unpacked their things, or make any effort to even move from their original positions. At this rate, I won't even know anyone other than those two goons. I sighed and sat down on my bed, doing a mixture of what my roommates were doing: lying down and staring at the ceiling. I wanted tomorrow to come already so I could focus more on school and less on people at school.

My father was sure I would be the top of my class. He told me I couldn't let anyone be smarter than me. Sure, in one class maybe, but definitely not overall. It would ruin the Malfoy name. He didn't say it out loud, but I figured that meant I would be disowned. But now, that didn't seem so bad. I didn't want to be a Malfoy; people were scared of me on the first day, and there were odd people at my house, and I had to be the smartest of all the first years, and be expected to tell the same things to my son (because having a girl would mean no heir, and so I would have to have a boy). I didn't want that burden on my shoulders. Maybe I should fail on purpose. But then I would not go to second year. What would get on my dad's nerves enough to disown me, but still make it far enough to not have to repeat first year. There had to be a line I could cross… Of course! All I have to do is let Nanda be smarter than me. That shouldn't be so hard. He's a Ravenclaw.

It was settled then. And now, all I had to do was wait until tomorrow to set my new plan into action. I looked over at my roommates, who only movement was breathing and blinking. I sighed and looked at the ceiling once more. Of course, it would a long time before that would happen.

:) Review if you can. And I'll try and get the next chapter out sooner this time. Hehehe. Thanks for reading.