On Christmas Day, Hadrian woke up to a pillow hitting him in the face. He shot upright, fists raised defensively, to see a faintly amused but unsurprised Blaise leaning against his bedpost, still wearing his green silk pyjamas.

"Happy Yule, Hadrian," Blaise said after the pause went on long enough that it was made clear Hadrian wasn't going to explain himself. Hadrian blinked at him, before lowering his fists. It was then he noticed the large pile of presents that sat wrapped at the foot of his bed.

"Oh! Happy Yule to you as well, Blaise," he replied carefully, climbing out of the bed.

"Hurry up downstairs," Blaise said, his faint smile growing into a grin, "the others are waiting." As he left the dormitory, Hadrian realised he was alone; he had been the last to rise. That was a first.

Hadrian did as he was told, and with his arms full of the packages that had been left by his bed, he descended into the common room. Sitting around the massive tree that was covered in tinsel were all his housemates that had stayed for the holidays; Nott, Blaise and Rowle; a second-year; two fourth-years; as well as Farley and several other upper-years.

"Ah, excellent!" Farley exclaimed when she caught sight of him. "I believe you're the last one, we've been itching to start opening these." She nudged her own pile of gifts, significantly larger than Hadrian's, that was gathered by her armchair. Hadrian approached the others and took the last open chair between Blaise and Nott. His housemates all nodded a greeting, and Hadrian felt strangely warm. Nott even smiled at him.

As soon as he sat down, the others tore into their respective piles, and Farley encouraged them all to help themselves to a jug of spiced pumpkin juice she had left on the mantlepiece. Hadrian was amazed that anyone took her up on it; he did not, but he thanked her anyway.

Hadrian grabbed the first gift in his pile, a small box wrapped in very neat silver paper. He gave the others a glance to make sure they were all opening theirs before carefully pulling apart the edges of the paper, making sure not to tear any. He heard a snort from his right.

"For Merlin's sake Potter," Nott said with what felt like the first genuinely mirthful laugh he'd heard from the boy, "Just tear it open." Nott himself already had shreds of purple paper covering his lap, and was inspecting a leather-bound journal.

The rest of the Slytherins chuckled – even Rowle – and, despite knowing they were all probably still hiding behind some shade of mask, Hadrian relaxed. He shrugged, and ripped the paper in half.

"Hear hear!" Cheered Farley, and Hadrian couldn't help but grin. Inside the box was a small owl cloak pin and a card signed by Tracey. Hadrian grinned happily.

In the end, along with Tracey's gift, Hadrian received a raven-feather quill from Greengrass, a massive box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from Hermione, a set of beautiful gold weighing scales from Neville, a book on Occlumency from Elena, an enormous box of homemade brownies from Bulstrode, and a leather wrist holster for his wand from Blaise. His two favourite gifts were from Farley and his family. He had unwrapped Farley's present to find a copy of Duelling Forms for All Skill Levels , at which point he grinned happily and thanked her profusely. Blaise and Rowle had nodded approvingly, while Nott had made an odd face that Hadrian couldn't quite place. The last present he opened, which he made sure nobody else saw, was a muggle photograph of his family in a roughly hewn and glued wooden frame. Light's eyes were closed and his smile was missing a new tooth; Spider's lip was slightly swollen and he was wincing as he smiled; Hero had a new bright blue hijab, and was holding Light on her hip. Roach and Stickler were stood back-to-back, making Stickler's already lanky form look even more freakishly tall. Toxic and Sparky, who were sat down in the front, had both chopped all their hair off - and not very neatly. The wooden frame had several space-themed stickers on it, and 'Merry Christmas!' was written in glittery red pen in bad cursive.

Hadrian's eyes flicked from Light's missing tooth to Toxic and Sparky's new hair, and it took everything in him to hold back the heat pricking at his eyes and threatening tears. Merlin, how he missed them. How he hated Elena for being right.

" - wicked! Cheers, Hadrian!"

"Hm?" Hadrian cleared his throat and blinked twice, turning to look at Blaise. The dark-skinned boy had an luxury writing kit with three different quills open on his lap and a surprisingly genuine-looking smile on his face. "Oh, of course, Blaise." He nodded at him. "Thank you for the wand holster, it'll be very useful." Blaise nodded back at him.

The jug of pumpkin juice was almost empty. Hadrian bit back a remark at Nott and Blaise's half-full goblets. He noticed Rowle, who was inspecting a small silver hand-mirror, had not partaken, but everyone else had.

Hadrian offered around the brownies from Bulstrode, and Blaise and Nott took him up eagerly; apparently Bulstrode had something of a reputation as a bit of a culinary master. Hadrian watched Blaise finish his before biting into his own. Bulstrode's reputation was accurate, he found; it was delicious.

That evening, Hadrian carefully tucked away his new possessions into his bedside drawers, setting the remnants of the brownies in the bottom drawer where it sat next to two bananas and a small pile of rolls. In November, he'd opened the bottom drawer to reveal mould-covered apples and a mouse tearing through a hunk of stale bread; the next day, he'd had Tracey teach him a preservation charm. To her credit, she'd asked no questions, and Hadrian had been impressed to find out she had known three different ones. As the year went on, Hadrian grew more and more guiltily grateful for the rest of his house underestimating Tracey for her blood status. She was invaluable.

As he changed into his school jumper he noticed a small brown package at the foot of his bed – he must have missed it when he went downstairs that morning. He picked it up and turned in over in his hands, furrowing a brow. It was extremely light. It wasn't labelled, but it was definitely at the foot of his bed, it had to be for him.

He tore the paper gently, and something silvery fell to the bed; it felt almost like liquid it was so soft and fluid. Confused, he picked it up, and a small piece of paper fell from one of the folds. A note was written on it in unfamiliar handwriting.

Your father left this in my possession before he died.

It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. His recent near-catastrophe in front of Blaise made him cautious, so he shoved it under his bed to deal with later, his mind racing. His initial thought had been Elena, but she would have said it was her – she wouldn't have wasted an opportunity to make it clear she was giving him something, that he needed her. Besides, she would have mentioned before that his father had known and trusted her. He doubted it was a student – certainly none of them had known his father. Other than Elena, he couldn't fathom someone old enough to know James Potter before he died that would want to send him a Christmas gift. Perhaps the first line of the note had been a lie, to get his guard down? If that was their intention, it certainly hadn't worked. If anything, it made him more suspicious. He doubted it was a pureblood or anyone from a traditionally Dark family; the Slytherins tolerated Christmas as a day to celebrate together, but none of them would ever sign their cards or gifts with a Merry Christmas . Even Blaise, who didn't care for muggle holidays one way or another, wouldn't put it in writing.

He ran through all the possibilities in his head as he followed his housemates down to the Great Hall. When the food arrived, his train of thought was abruptly halted by the scene in front of him. He had never seen such a feast. Tureens of buttered peas and spiced soups, massive roast turkeys and beef wellingtons, platters of Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes, parsnips and brussel sprouts, boats of gravy and cranberry sauce; the bowls of black licorice from the welcome feast had even made a reappearance. Silver and gold crackers were stacked in pyramids every few seats (which not a single Slytherin touched); Hadrian helped himself to as much of the food as would fit on his plate, trying to ignore the guilty pang in his belly as he thought about his family's Christmas dinner, and how cold the warehouse was this time of year. He hoped Sparky had managed to get the ancient space heater working.

The savouries were quickly replaced by extravagant flaming puddings, but by then Hadrian was too stuffed full of food to have any. He left the feast with napkin-wrapped parsnips and a set of golden cutlery. By now, he knew that the cutlery disappeared when he left the Great Hall, but it had become something of a ritual.

That afternoon, Hadrian and Rowle had an enjoyable time watching Blaise flatten Nott in Wizard's Chess. Rowle had started out giving Nott advise but had quickly grown too amused by his failure and joined Hadrian in cheering Blaise on. Nott lost somewhat gracefully, and at the end of the match he surprised Hadrian by offering to teach him.

"He just wants to find someone who'll lose to him," Blaise said with a laugh. Nott rolled his eyes but didn't rescind his offer, and Hadrian took him up on it eagerly. Nott was a surprisingly patient teacher, and Hadrian picked it up quicker than he expected to, with Blaise and Rowle chiming in every so often to offer strategy tips.

By the time the evening rolled around, Hadrian felt rather more amiable towards all three of them; even Nott had refrained from saying anything particularly racist or rude. It was only when it was nearly time for bed that Hadrian remembered the strange package he had hurriedly stuffed beneath his mattress. He paused halfway up the stairs to the dormitory and let out of a hiss of air. He hated asking Farley for favours, but he knew it was better to be cautious. He grabbed the package from his bed and held it under his cloak before returning to the common room and spying Farley where she sat with two other fifth-years. He sat in a chair next to the window into the lake and waited nearly two hours before Gemma and her yearmates got up to leave.

"Farley? Could I have a word?" He called. Her yearmates gave her a curious look but she waved them on, joining Hadrian by the window with raised eyebrows.

"What can I do for you, Potter?"

"I have a favour to ask." The sentence left a bitter taste on his tongue. To her credit, Farley did not so much as smirk.

"Oh?"

"I need you to test something. To see if it's been jinxed or cursed in any way. I'm sure you can understand why I'm so cautious, after what happened to my broomstick during the last match."

Farley nodded. "Good. I'm pleased you are being smart about such things; I take it this thing you want me to test is a Yule gift?"

Hadrian explained the situation, including the nameless note, choosing to omit the line about his father. Farley readily agreed to help, and Hadrian had to work not to narrow his eyes with suspicion at how selfless she was being.

"What do you want in return?"

Farley sat back in her chair and titled her head, her expression contemplative. She waited a beat before asking, "How are you doing in your classes?"

Hadrian blinked. "Sorry?"

"Academically, I mean. Are you doing well?"

Biting back his confusion, he nodded. "I'm among the top of nearly every class."

"Good, good."

"What does that have to do with –"

"I'll tell you what I want in return." Farley brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face. "I'm not going to be at Hogwarts forever. I only have two years left, and there will be four years when I'm not here that many important pieces on the board are." Hadrian began to understand where she was going with this. "I will need someone who is still here to keep me informed."

"And, I presume," Hadrian finished, "Do the occasional favour."

Farley shrugged. "You wouldn't have to agree to anything specific now, and I'd be sure to offer you something in return for anything I ask of you whilst I'm out. All I'm asking for now is an agreement to open the door to a potential partnership."

For not the first time, Hadrian found himself wishing Elena was here to whisper in his ear and give him some sort of guidance. To give himself time to think, he asked, "You've still got two years left while you're here. You don't think it's a bit early to be setting this kind of groundwork?"

Farley only smiled. "I'm pretty confident in my bid with you. So, do we have a deal?"

Hadrian pursed his lips. "Just an open door?"

"Just an open door," Farley confirmed.

"Then I suppose the deal is the deal." Privately, Hadrian wondered if there was some sort of extra catch. He knew it was smart of her, but he still felt he was getting a far better hand here. He essentially had just solidified a permanent alliance with a formidable upper-year – a prefect, no less – in his first year.

"Excellent. Now, what is it that you want me to look over?"

Hadrian withdrew the package from his cloak. He had wrapped it back up in paper, and Farley took it without comment. She unwrapped it and let out a gasp as the strange, flowy material revealed itself. He immediately noted her expression of genuine surprise and what sounded like awe, and his torso straightened.

"Potter… do you know what this is?" She asked, her eyes wide as she let it flow through her fingers.

"I was hoping you would be able to tell me that."

Farley was enraptured by whatever it was. "I've never seen a real one in person before. I mean, I've read about them, but always cheap one-trick ones, not this quality." Hadrian cleared his throat, and it seemed to shake her out of her reverie. She waved her wand over it and muttered a few incantations under her breath; nothing happened, but it looked like that was what she was expecting. She handed the strange material back to Hadrian.

"Put it on," she ordered. Hadrian raised an eyebrow, but when she did not elaborate, he shrugged and swung it around his shoulders. Then he gaped as he looked down at himself - or rather, where his self should have been. From the shoulders down, it was as if he was not there. He was completely invisible.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," Farley exhaled with wonder. "Hadrian, these are incredibly rare."

Hadrian licked his lips. "You're sure there's nothing wrong with it?" He asked.

She nodded. "Whoever it was from… well. You have a very generous patron out there somewhere, Potter." It was not the comforting thought it was meant to be.

"Thank you, Farley," Hadrian said as he took the cloak off and rolled it back up into the brown paper. "I appreciate your help."

Farley dipped her head. "Use it wisely," she cautioned with a grin.

Use it well.

Hadrian stared at the cloak where it lay folded on the bed in front of him, the note propped up next to it. He twisted his wand in his hand, gnawing gently on the inside of his cheek. He knew what the smart thing to do was. What Elena, and probably even Hero, would tell him to do. He could hear them explaining it in his head as he stared at it for almost an hour. He knew he should listen to their imaginary warnings.

Instead, he shoved the note under his mattress, wrapped the cloak around himself, and left the dormitory. As he crept quietly down the stairs and out of the common room, he smiled to himself; it didn't feel all too dissimilar to sneaking out of the warehouse to spar with Spider, or train with Elena.

He stood still in front of the stone wall outside the common room for more than a minute, excitement flooding him; he could go anywhere he liked. He was completely invisible, and therefore had the absolute run of the castle. He could find the kitchens, or look for the entrance to the other houses' common rooms, or climb the astronomy tower and have a look through the massive, fancy telescope first-years weren't allowed to touch.

As he pondered his options, he decided to simply wander and let his feet take him where they would. Perhaps he would even discover a secret passageway or two; a castle this old and magical had to have some. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he ascended the steps out of the dungeon, the darkness and quiet of the usually bustling bright hallways making for an eerie air.

He wandered for almost two hours, unearthing new rooms and hallways he had never had cause to go into before. His favourite discovery was behind a door so small he'd had to get on his stomach to fit through; it must have been built for a goblin or an elf of some kind. He'd army-crawled through the tiny door to find a room with walls of red brick, like a muggle building, with scrappy murals painted all over the walls. Some were beautiful and clearly hand-painted by very talented individual – there was an extremely detailed meadow scene on the far wall – and some were clearly by novices, but still painted with joy. It reminded Hadrian strongly of the graffitied courtyards near the warehouse. There was no furniture in the room, but there were several barrels and buckets of paint in the centre, along with a large array of brushes. Hadrian did not add to the decoration, but as he left the room to continue exploring, he made a mental note to return later.

To his chagrin, when he passed by the suits of armour that had guarded the tiny door on his way back to bed, the door was gone. He yawned as he lamented its disappearance, resolving to look for it again tomorrow night.

And he did. In fact, for the next few nights, he waited for his housemates to fall asleep before donning the invisibility cloak and setting out into the castle. The freedom was nigh on addictive. On New Year's Eve, he did end up finding a secret passage, purely by accident; he tripped, and thrust his hand out to grab the nearest thing where he could find purchase. It had just so happened to be the ear of a stone gargoyle, which he had been shocked to find pulled down. When it did so, the gargoyle's pedestal made a grinding noise and slid to the left, revealing a staircase that led down. Hadrian, not one to pass up the opportunity and unable to quell the curiosity within him, had descended. He followed the passageway down for ten minutes before the end of it blocked by an ancient wooden door. It was locked, but not difficult to get through for someone who had spent hours practising with a padlock and Hero's guidance. The door had creaked like hell, but eventually he'd managed to shove it open to find himself surrounded by shelves and shelves of very dusty books. The library!

Hadrian did not recognise any of the shelves here, and the books all looked much older than any he'd seen before; most of them did not have any titles on the spines, or if they did, they were peeling and illegible. The Restricted Section . He grinned to himself. The cloak was worth this alone. He didn't consider himself a bookworm, nothing like Hermione, but even the least studious person in the castle would be jealous of unlimited access to the Restricted Section.

Indecision struck him as he explored the shelves, the possibilities stretching out in front of him like an infinite road. Before he could decide on a course of action, he heard a deep, scratchy meow, followed by uneven footsteps.

"Found something, have you, Mrs Norris? A student out of bed, perhaps?" Came Filch's raspy voice. Hadrian turned to head back to the secret passage, when the light of a lantern emanated from around the corner, between him and the passage entrance. He swore silently, and heard another, even longer meow, before two shining pairs of yellow eyes blinked in his direction. He stepped to the left; the feline eyes followed him.

Filch's hunched form prowled into view and took in Mrs Norris' fixed gaze. His eyes narrowed. "Is there somewhere here that shouldn't be?" He asked, leering. He swung his arms out and Hadrian held his breath, ducked, and sped past him, weaving through the bookcases as quickly as possible.

He hurried back through the secret passageway as quickly as possible, paranoid after being stared down by Mrs Norris. He checked his watch as he came back out by the gargoyle – it was only half one. He gave himself another thirty minutes to explore before he had to head back to the common room. He reasoned it was a good time to scour the castle for places to practise where he wouldn't be walked in on by Rowle or anyone else.

He passed a few unused classrooms that he took mental notes of before he found a strange little room on the third floor of the Astronomy Tower. The room itself was perfectly ordinary, scattered with empty desks pushed up against a wall, but that was not what Hadrian focused on.

Propped up against one wall was a large ornate mirror, so tall it touched the ceiling. It was framed in ornate gold, with an inscription carved along the top: Erised stra chru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi .

At first, Hadrian only gave it a passing glance, but as his gaze shifted from the inscription down into the glass, he jolted back in shock. Staring back at him, shoulders relaxed and form at ease, was his reflection, but he was not alone; surrounding him, smiling, was his family. Light was hoisted up on Spider's shoulders, Wheels and Sparky were stood side by side with ear to ear grins, Stickler and Hero were laughing at something Toxic had said. Roach was looking up at Hadrian with adoration. Standing next to Hadrian, holding his hand, was Shade.

Hadrian's heart thudded. His family seemed to notice him looking and they all waved at him happily. He blinked, and realised – Tracey was there too. And Elena. Tracey and Sparky were leaving against each other, clearly comfortable with each other's presence. Elena looked as imposing and smug as ever, and she stood a half step behind Hadrian's reflection. He looked behind him to see an empty room, and then back at the mirror, taking an unconscious step forward. Lifting his hand to touch the glass, he noticed what was so different about this mirror's version of Elena. She was stood behind him, yes, but not as a puppeteer would, not whispering into his ear; her stance was deferential. She was looking at Hadrian like she was awaiting orders.