Chapter 3

Eric stirred awake as he heard a door near him open. It hadn't been the first time he'd woken since he'd claimed this room last night, if you lived on the streets being a heavy sleeper was liable to get you killed if you didn't have a saints luck.

Pulling a small bag out of his pocket he stuck his arm into it, much farther than the dimensions should have allowed and pulled out a Rolex he'd stolen the day of McGonagall's arrival. Reading 7:19 Eric's grey eyes widened. He'd been out for nearly eight hours straight, barring minute interruptions; he hadn't been able to rest like that since he was five!

Shaking his head the young stark jumped out of bed and began stretching. It may not be important to be limber anymore, what with how his life had turned around, but it was habit. Pulling a muscle when you're running from thugs made for short reprieves and nastier rolls.

His calisthenics done, Eric headed for the bathroom. Once there he brought his magic to the surface and wiped away the detritus of sleep with a wave of plum light. Reasonably cleaned and groomed he headed down for breakfast. It wasn't hard to find the great hall, just head for the ground floor and listen for the sound of chaos. As he arrived and began to load his tray the blond prefect, Penelope if he remembered right, was walking down the table handing out schedules.

"Thank you Miss Clearwater." Stark said as she passed him, dropping his time table beside his plate.

"Penny, please." She said pleasantly as she continued down the line. "Hearing my last name makes me look around for a professor."

He chuckled lightly and nodded. "As you wish, Penny." Turning back to his plate Eric began loading his plate. Eating slowly, for him, the new claw examined at his schedule. All of the classes were in the morning, which was nice, though it seemed a little off to him. He may not have been to formal classes since first grade, but he was certain classes normally went all day. Yesterday would have been double potions with Hufflepuff, Today and Thursday were Charms and then Transfiguration with the Gryffindor's, Tomorrow offered History of Magic and Herbology with Slytherin and Friday would be double Defense with the Puffs again.

Committing the page to memory Eric finished his plate and checked his watch. He still had half an hour till class started. Shrugging he summoned some buttered toast from down the table and layered it around a generous amount of beautifully cooked bacon and walked up the table, looking for a suitably friendly older student. Deciding on a carrot top who looked to be 16 he politely asked for directions to the transfiguration classroom. He had time, sure, but the castle was large and he expected to get lost a few times over the course of the week. Instead of directions the boy showed him a spell to assist him in navigating unfamiliar areas.

"Transfiguration classroom, point me." He said, shaking his head in amazement as the wand rose from his palm and pointed itself up and to the left. He set off in the direction indicated and, after getting turned around twice, found the marked class room with 15 minutes to spare. The spell wasn't perfect, as the older boy had explained, in that it couldn't find you anything but so long as you knew exactly what you were looking for when you cast the spell your wand would act as a reliable guide to just about anywhere and saying the words without a target would cause it to act as a compass.

Seeing no one save a tabby cat in the Room he summoned The beginners guide to transfiguration by Emeric Switch and started reading. He'd already memorized the book, but it was still quite fascinating, containing many illustrations of elaborate magic circles used for each type of transformation and little lines coming off of various parts and explaining how it affects the outcome and wand movements. He was halfway through rereading the first chapter when Hermione entered, trailing Harry and Ron. Eric got up and went over to sit with them, meeting and trading glares with Ron as he took up a seat on the far side of the trio by Hermione. They began discussing things as the rest of class filtered into the room.

"Where's the teacher?" Hermione asked Eric quietly as the start of class bell rang.

"I dunno," he replied "but I think that might be her ca…" the long haired boy was cut off as said "cat" leapt off the teachers' desk and became their elderly professor.

"Good morning, students." McGonagall said crisply. "It's refreshing to see an entire roster that's on time." She finished, a slight twitch at the edge of her mouth. She promptly turned her desk onto an enormous sow and back, causing the class to gasp in wonder and launched into her speech.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts." She said in her quiet, carrying voice. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." The wizened woman paused for several moments while the class let that little sentiment settle before speaking again.

"Now," the tall brunette professor continued crisply, clapping her hands together once "How many of you have read the text?"

Eric, Hermione and several of the Ravenclaw students raised their hands and McGonagall's thin line of a mouth took on a predatory look. "Well, then. Since not everyone can be trusted to do their reading, quills and parchment everyone! Copy this down." The professor finished crisply. She tapped her wand on the blackboard which quickly covered itself with complicated diagrams and notes from the book and launched into a lecture on the basics of transfiguration.

Eric sighed and closed his eyes, slipping into his mindscape as fast as he could. Opening the door to the void where he'd first found his power he pulled out a small mote of the violet fire and shaped it. Opening his eyes again he kept hold of the power and used it to summon a spiral ringed note pad and BIC pen from his trunk and got to work. Hermione kept glancing at him all throughout the lecture, shooting him looks he couldn't decipher all through class until the professor came around handing them Match sticks to turn into needles.

Eric looked at his match for several minutes before raising his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" the green robed professor asked, a hint of trepidation in her voice.

"Does this spell have uses beyond turning match sticks into needles?" He asked. "I'm not trying to be rude, but it seems like a waste of a spell if that's all it does."

Minerva had the urge to massage her temples, but valiantly resisted. She'd known the boy was going to be a handful from the first, but the question was a good one. "A very astute question, Mr. Stark." she returned. "The spell I just gave you is a simple beginners transfiguration for turning simple living mater into metal. In this case a wooden matchstick into a steel needle. The reason for the material and the goal of the exercise is due to the similarity between them allows the mind to more easily associate the two objects and handle changing the properties from one to another. For example, you could use this same spell to change a ball of yarn into copper wire or change your food into tin blocks, though I can't imagine a reason you would want to do either." She glanced around the room, taking in all the heads turned their way. "What are you waiting for? Copy that down and get to work on your transfigurations. Anyone who doesn't finish the exercise will have four feet of parchment explaining the spell for me by the start of class next week."

As the words left her mouth there was a flurry of activity and the sound of quills scratching on parchment. The professor was about to return to her desk when he glanced down at Eric's desk space. McGonagall sighed. "Mr. Stark," she said, her voice quiet and exasperated "What, pray tell, are you writing on?"

Eric looked up at her, nearly finished with transcribing her explanation onto the white pad. "Civilian writing pad and pen. I had some trouble learning to use quill and parchment. The skins keep rolling up, keeping my lines straight and uniform was a nightmare, ink would fly off the quill as I wrote, the ink well would occasionally fall over. I gave up. Civilian writing implements were just simpler. They're cheaper, easier to use, easier to learn and nowhere near as messy." He paused for several moments and then grimaced. "I can't see why you wouldn't approve, professor. After all, with the lines on the paper I can't just cheat my out of four feet of homework by writing big." Not that I intend to get that homework, he thought smugly.

"Very well, Mr. Stark." the wizened Scott replied, walking away. "Five points to Ravenclaw for insight and forethought during class."

As their teacher returned to her desk Eric reviewed his notes for the spells pronunciations and wand movements and went to work. It was surprisingly difficult work and took him nearly half an hour to figure out the correct balance of focus, power and wand work to complete the transformation. Not wanting to disturb the professor Eric summoned a dozen more matches from the front desk without getting up and went to work getting familiar with the spell, first with his wand and then without it. His wand was a useful tool without a doubt and he was sure, having used it now, that it would have taken him a lot more work to learn the spell without it, but he was afraid of becoming reliant on it. He didn't want to end up like those other kids in Ravenclaw, having his powers suddenly drying up, leaving him vulnerable and having spent six years of his life for nothing.

Eric was working on his twelfth needle, and fourth wandless, when he noticed a hand reaching across the corner of his space to pluck a match from his pile. He followed the hand back to its bushy haired owner and the three perfect needles sitting before her. Hermione noticed his looking and raised a delicate brow at him when he met her gaze. Stark chuckled and looked down the table to where Harry and Ron were struggling with their own matches. Deciding to earn some brownie points Eric stood up and walked around to kneel in front of their desks, his arms crossed and resting on the space between them, his chin settled on his arms.

"What do you want?" Ron snarled, jabbing his wand at his match again, forcing the slightly silvered wood to become pointy on either end.

Eric stretched his neck to look at Harry's near perfect wooden needle. "I was wondering if either of you would like help." He said, holding up a match and morphing it into a needle before their eyes. Ron growled and turned away from him, jabbing his wand at his own match more forcefully than before. Harry gave Ron a long suffering look and nodded.

"No harm in it I guess." Harry allowed.

"Show me what you're doing." Stark instructed his friend as his eyes glazed over in trance.

The long haired boy watched as his scarred friend performed the physical aspects of the spell better than he himself had before focusing on the energy issuing from his friends wand. Where the power flowing from his and Hermione's wands were like a stream of water, the threads of energy being expelled from the holly wand looked more like a mist. "More power."

Harry looked at him, confused. "Err, what?"

"Your casting is fine," Eric said, coming out of his fugue state and refocusing on his friend "better than mine even if I'm any judge. The problem is you aren't putting enough power into it, which is kind of odd since your core is brighter than mine." He continued, gesturing down at Harry's perfectly formed wooden needle. "How's your focus, are you pushing your magic to respond?"

Harry looked into his friends grey eyes, confused. "I'm just saying the words and waving my wand." He replied. "There's more?" The green eyes closed in thought for several moments before opening again. "Oh." The BWL cast the spell again and the needle turned a shiny silver.

Eric smiled and handed him another. This one too, became a needle in short order. "Thanks, Eric."

"Any time." The two orphans grinned at each other.

"So what's wrong with Ron's casting?" Harry asked pointedly, deciding his other friend would likely be to stubborn to accept help. It pained him to see his friends at odds, but it couldn't be helped… for now at least.

The dark red haired boy rolled his eyes. "Exaggerated movements and bad pronunciation. His power's good, as evidenced by the silvering of his match, but small changes use small movements. McGonagall explained that during the lecture earlier."

The carrot top turned to him, mouth open to say something when the bell rang, signaling the end of class. About half of the students had managed their transformations when the professor came around and checked. The rest, including Ron, received the promised four feet of parchment.

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Charms class was next. Aside from Flitwick hopping in excitement at Harry's name and falling off his pile of books it was a fairly calm period. They learned the teeth cleaning charm and as homework received a pamphlet detailing several dozen small personal charms, from tying shoe laces, to clearing mats from ones hair. Eric almost discarded the pamphlet but a pointed look from Flitwick stopped him and he was glad it had. While significantly more complicated than his all in one brute force approach to on demand cleanliness, the spells they had been given in class cost him a bare fraction the power for the same effect.

Free of homework, at least for the day, Eric decided to follow up on Professor M's suggestion from their first meeting and search out the game keeper, Rubeus Hagrid.

Hagrid, as it turned out, lived on a hut down off the main slope of the castle bluff. Nestled against the tree line of the forbidden forest Hagrid's house was built like the hut of a Viking villager Eric had read about in the many fantasy books at the midtown soup kitchen. Beside it was a small garden filled with assorted vegetables and herbs, the civilian variety, and a sizable patch of oversized pumpkins. It looked homey, in a rustic camper sort of way.

Shrugging the young boy walked up to the 15 foot door and knocked. A split second later Stark leapt back as the door slammed against the frame, sounds of frantic scratching and barking rattling the wooden slab from the other side.

"Back, Fang! Back! Move out of the way y'mangy mutt!"

Shortly the door stopped rattling and opened to reveal the giant man, Hagrid, in all his bushy bearded glory.

"Er…" Eric said, slightly less certain than he had been before. "Hello, sir."

Hagrid looked down on him for a moment, scratching his chest slowly thought the canvas tent that made his shirt. "Eh? I dun mean ter be rude," the man rumbled "but who are ye?"

"I'm Stark, sir. Eric Sirius Stark. Professor McGonagall said you were the person to talk to if I wanted to know about magical creatures or the Dark Forrest Preserves."

"Di' she naw?" the man mountain rumbled, a smile splitting his bushy face. "Come in, come in." he said, stepping out of the way. "Not offin I gets visitors dun here." He continued, as he offered Eric a pot of tea. The boy accepted and was handed a large ale tankard filled with the steaming brew. Briefly tapping it with his finger the auburn haired boy judged it to be too hot to drink and summoned a mote of power to cool it down. Taking a sip he nodded and complimented the giant on the drink.

"So, Eric was it?"

"Yes, sir."

"We got lots o' beasts in der forest." The half giant rumbled pleasantly. "What yu wanna know?"

Eric grinned and placed his elbow on the table. "Tell me everything."

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Hermione granger walked into the main Hogwarts library, a determined look on her face. Gryffindor tower had a library of sorts, but it was a small sad little room not much better than a broom closet with a few rows of badly used schoolbooks left over from previous students. It make her heart clench just to think of the poor treatment those books had received and what their owners must have been like.

I wonder what Ravenclaw Tower is like she mused quietly as she approached the main desk and its lone, venerable, librarian. "Ma'am." She asked, her voice clear and quiet. When the birdlike woman looked up from her book to meet her gaze Hermione continued. "Do you have any books on wandless magic?" she a0iokl;m,.sked politely.

"That's highly advanced magic, dear." Madam Pince replied, looking sharply at her customer. "Do you have a note?"

"A note?" she asked, confused.

"Books on particularly advanced or dangerous knowledge are placed in the restricted section." The severe woman explained, pursing her lips. "Come back when you have a note from a professor."

Hermione looked momentarily downcast. "But Ma'am Pince, one of my friends regularly does wandless magic. He offered to teach me; I just want to read up on the subject so I can have a better idea of what he's talking about. It sounds so fascinating!"

"…I'm sorry dear. If your friend's teaching you I'm sure you can convince a professor to give you a note, but until then I cannot give you any tomes on the restricted list." The librarian said with an air of finality.

Frowning and hurt at her first time being denied a book from any librarian, they were usually so helpful, the bushy haired girl stalked off. She would find an answer to the conundrum that was her first willing friend some other way.

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Dumbledore ran his hand along the runes engraved into the wall of the final trap, examining them for errors as he watched Severus finish composing his riddle. It was a rather genius piece of work the man had dreamed up. Due to the common mode of thought that wizards lived and thus taught by few beyond himself retained any skill for deductive reasoning, preferring more static means of learning such as rote memorization that quashed such impulses. Anyone who was able to get this far would have the utterly wrong mindset to make it past this final trap. He chuckled to himself as he reread the riddle and points behind its construction from his potions professors mind.

It was almost criminal; and that wasn't even taking into consideration what he himself was planning on doing once he could drag that crusted old mirror out of the castles vaults.

Patience to calm the savage beast, cool decisive thought to escape the grasping dark, a thief's eye and agility to open the path, the tacticians ruthlessness to forge ahead, the brutes determination to break through, and the detectives reason to escape. No one had all of these, not even Tom. Add on top of that an artist's flair for abstract thought and the stone would be safe even from his old mentor Nickolas.

Walking into the final room he ran a hand through his beard and considered. A thousand years ago when the castle had been built the founders had used this hall for ritual spells to powerful for the wands or other primitive foci of the time. As such the room was heavily warded and enchanted against spell damage so should an infiltrator be able to get in they should be locked within until he came for them. He briefly wondered if he should add his own protections and ward traps to the room but discarded the notion. Adding seals and wards to an existing matrix without an in-depth study was a fast and dirty way for any powerful mage to commit suicide.

The Headmaster left the room and proceeded to recheck the fire traps and ensure that the fireproofing potions would wear off quickly and were mutually exclusive. Once he felt confident everything was in order he activated them and directing his Potions master to precede him outside, leaving a fist sized ruby red gem lying on a pedestal behind him. Now all he had to do was find and restore a mirror.

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It was dark out when Eric left the gamekeepers company and returned to the castle. He'd spent the entire afternoon talking to the enormous man and was quite satisfied with how he'd spent his time. It was fascinating just how close civilian folklore often came to the real thing. Oh, there were differences, certainly, and those had captured his imagination as well, but what everything the oversized gamekeeper had told him had really done was serve to make Eric determined to build his own menagerie as soon as he got the time. That wasn't even taking into consideration the potential for profit that came with careful handling of such pets.

Checking his watch again Eric sighed, he was sure he'd missed dinner at this point. Stopping by the great hall he confirmed that it was indeed empty and foodless. Pulling out his wand he did the point me spell, asking for the kitchens. The wand pointed straight down, beneath the great hall. His face fell. It made a sorcerous kind of sense. Maze like castle, teleport spells, kitchen beneath the great hall.

Deciding he was still hungry he went for the closest downward staircase. After wandering around for near 30 minutes he saw a pair of fiery heads heading down a corridor to the right. Following them he saw that it was the Weasley twins, Gred and Forge if he remembered. They stopped in front of an enormous portrait of a bowl of fruit and scratched the pear. A grin spread across the long haired boys face as it giggled and became a large green handle.

Recasting the point me spell he confirmed that the kitchen was in the right direction and rushed forward to repeat the entrance. Pulling open the massive painting Eric clambered up the ledge behind the wall art and took in the cavernous room.

The vast space before him was dominated by Five immense, if low, preparation tables that sat beneath the house tables in the hall above. The walls were covered with stoves, sinks, cookware and further prep stations. Off near the back of the room where the aisle that separated the house tables from the high table sat there was a massive door with a smaller door set into it. That would probably be the pantry Eric thought.

Then he noticed what was going on between these tables. About halfway down the middle row he could see the heads of the two Weasley boy kneeling in a sea of what looked like bobble-head dolls in pillowcases and tea cozies.

"Hellos sir!" a voice squeaked just below his armpit. "Whats can squeeze be doing fors yous?"

"Umm, I was looking for the cooks. I sort of missed dinner and wanted to ask if I could use the larder." Eric said hesitantly, not sure what kind of creature he was talking to or the danger zones inherent in such an encounter.

"You're looking at them." Came a human voice from his right. He looked up to see one of the Weasley boys had snuck up on him. Looking back at the gnome he found it had disappeared into the sudden throng of movement.

"They're not dangerous are they?" the long haired sorcerer queried.

"Na," came the answer from his other side. "dead helpful they are."

"Do almost anything you could ask them." Continued the first twin.

"Mum keeps wishing she"

"Had one to do the laundry."

"Of course that would be"

"counterproductive. House elves"

"Enter or leave your service"

"when you hand them clothing."

Eric nodded, absorbing the information coming from the pairs back and forth method of speech. The he frowned. "I thought elves were tall and powerful?" he said, confused. "the dark elf in Gringotts certainly fit the classical description."

Gred's' eyebrows rose. "Oh ho! We have a clever one here, brother mine."

"As expected form a claw." Forge replied.

"See, they're not really elves."

"Or Fey, depending on who you ask."

"Officially, Merlin forged a contract with"

"Oberon the Fey King to have them as servants."

"But according to Morgana's portrait they're imps she summoned"

"And set against Merlin when he started the war of the emerald fold."

"which our history books call the first elven rebellion."

Eric held his head in his hands as he began to get dizzy from looking back and forth between the pair of them. He knew that history was written by the victors, but merlin starting a war with the elves? Magical servants were either enslaved gnomes or bound demons? And they were allowing either possible grudge bearing creature cook their food? More and more the wizarding world was beginning to scare him. Eric watched with trepidation as four 'house elves' bounded towards him carrying a platter piled high with a wide variety of sandwiches followed by a fifth that somehow managed to skip without sloshing a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"Umm, Gred," he murmured, taking a sandwich from the tray he was being offered. "Both possibilities suggest creatures who bear a deep justifiable grudge against wizard kind. Are we sure it's safe to eat anything they give us?"

"Oh perfectly." The other twin answered.

"Whatever they may have been"

"In the past, House elves"

"are dead helpful. Always looking"

"for something to do or some way"

"to please their owners. Let them alone"

"Without anything to work on"

"Their magic builds up and"

"Drives them crazy!" The other twin finished.

"Hagrid insists it can be fatal if left too long." Forge said solemnly

"Right." Eric said stiffly. "Right. Thanks for the info." The twins nodded to him and were about to leave, carrying a pair of sacks with them when Eric jerked up and called back to them. "You guys mentioned pranks on the train?" seeing the two of them grin in affirmative Eric continued on in a rush. "For your next one I suggest you charm the silverware. Everybody expects to eat a pranksters attack off their plate or drink it from their cup, but no one ever checks the silverware."

"Good idea, mate. We'll have to look in on that." Gred said as he stepped out the door.

"Oh, by the way. Our names are actually Fred and George. We made the joke since even our mother mixes us up on occasion."

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Wednesday dawned bright and cold and Eric was glad for the warmth of the green houses. Today was their first contact with the Slytherins whom they had for both Herbology and History of Magic.

Professor Pomona Sprout was a kind energetic woman. Stout and slightly dirty, she had a frizzy mop of hair and a kind smile. She wore mostly pebbled green leather and asked them to put on their dragon hide gloves as soon as role was finished being called. They were then treated to a tour of the fourteen primary greenhouses. The heavily enchanted glass buildings were arranged two too a year, each covering a semesters worth of plants they would be covering. Eric also noted that as the green houses increased in number they also increased in danger…

After the end of their tour the joint Ravenclaw Slytherin class returned too greenhouse one. Upon arrival they were each given a flower and a piece of parchment and told to draw and label the various parts as they were discussed. Eric partnered with Blaise Zabini and listened attentively. Horticulture had never been something Eric had put much time into, being far more interested in whether or not the kitchen was trying to poison him that exactly how a plant was formed. He vaguely remembered a book he'd flipped through at the shelter, but he'd only been looking for proof that broccoli was evil, not what the parts of a flower were.

Blaise, however was quite good at the class, sketching and labeling their flower quickly before offering to help him. The flower in question, glitter stem, was used primarily in potion making where the glowing flower pedals were used in pepper-up potions and the roots were used for most minor curatives.

Over all the class was one he thought he might end up enjoying. The plant that had spat seeds at people in green house four had been cool and the 'devils snare' was something straight out of his novels!

History of magic on the other hand was a bit of a disappointment. Other than the excitement of having ghost for a teacher Eric wondered if this was what his stories so often complained about when the heroes moaned about the worthlessness of teachers. He honestly did try to listen to the lecture Professor bins was giving on early goblin society, but when he saw that more than half of the class had already started drooling he gave up and opened their course book instead.

Ghosts, Eric had found from talking to the older students, were incapable of interacting with the physical world beyond sight and speech so there was unlikely to be any sort of quiz on the material short of exam time, another things many of his literary heroes had bemoaned. He had to wonder though how that was going to work. Would another teacher come in to administer the exam, or would the castle take care of it personally? He'd read in Hogwarts A History that the castle was alive and would often respond to the needs of the teachers or more general inhabitants. How the dorms always had the exact right number of beds available for incoming students was just one example.

As they left HoM for lunch Eric felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around he saw the dark eyes of the Greek boy staring at him intently. Eric slowed down slightly allowing his dark skinned class mate keep pace beside him. "You're… Blaise, right? Is there something I can do for you?"

Without preamble or apparent embarrassment the Zabini heir let loose. "I saw what you did at the feast Monday night; most of the school did. I want to learn."

Eric stopped in the middle of the stair case they were traveling and looked at him intently. He waited until the others had passed by before finishing his study of the boy. The boys hair was long, like his own, but blacker than ink with blue highlights where the light from the window glanced off it. His skin was dark, not like a black boys or a Hispanic, but sort of bronze as if he'd spent most of his life getting tans. The boys features were rounded with baby fat, but there were still hints of high cheekbones and sharp classical features there. All of this was taken in at a glance though as what really held his attention were the eyes. Dark brown, nearly black, and intelligent; almost… calculating. There was a hint of friendly warmth there and a hint of humor, but the edifice of the boys mindscape was more firmly locked to him than any he'd come across. It reminded him of a Gothic cathedral, a fortress defined by its foreboding beauty.

"I see no reason not to," Eric replied slowly, carefully schooling his features "but why should I? What would I get out of it?"

Zabini's face split in a smirk. "My mother is well connected and having consumed the fortunes of an impressive string of bigoted pureblood husbands is quite rich. That makes me well placed in Slytherin house before even proving myself. If the whispers I've already been hearing about you are even half true, learning from you could place me at the top of my house."

"As fascinating as that Is, I fail to see what's in it for me as your master."

Blaise grinned wider. "Taking me as your apprentice would give you a strong disciple and access to Slytherin house, not to mention a foot in the door to most of Brittan's high level political circles."

"Logically, yes, but social realities don't often follow logic and a simple disciple leaves the potential to betray the master. I have offered my power to my friends though…" Stark returned pointedly, a brow raised in emphasis.

"If you're talking about the pureblood muggleborn prejudice I really don't care about that." Blaise said, rolling his eyes as they started moving again. "My mother thinks it's a load of bollox anyways. Something about purebloods being much easier to seduce than mixed and thus inferior."

"A black widow, huh?" Eric said smiling in understanding. That was something he understood, having read about it in numerous mystery novels. The comment about prejudices was one he was going to have to ask about though.

"No, her animagus form's an acromantula. Only really weak wizards and squibs get mundane forms." The Zabini heir replied, misinterpreting the comment.

"Huh? But professor McGonagall's a tabby cat and she's really strong. She has to be to be a teacher, and that's not what I meant. Civilians refer to women who marry a string of wealthy, powerful men, take their money and sometimes kill them, black widows because of the spiders' tendency to eat their male partners." Eric explained.

"Oh… um, well Professor McGonagall's form is a kneezel. I saw her on the list last year when mother was trying to teach me. I haven't gotten there yet, but I should have my form in a year or two. I hope I'm a dragon! Animagi is a rare enough talent that it brings considerable prestige in wizarding society" Zabini explained as they entered the great hall "but powerful creatures are special in of themselves and dragon animagi typically get legends written about them. Merlin, Baba Yaga, the Jade Emperors in china, Muggles revere the sorcerer Quetzalcoatl as a god of intelligence and healing for Merlins sake!"

Eric grinned with him, short daydreams of what form their animagus forms might be dancing through their heads as they reached the house tables. "Well, I gotta go eat." Blaise said, gesturing to his table.

Eric nodded and began to walk off when he suddenly spun and called back before either got too far. "Oh, and Blaise,"

"Yeah?"

"If you want to learn, meet me in the library, Saturday at noon."

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The next day Eric hung back at the end of charms class, waiting until Hermione granger had finished packing her books and supplies. He's spend the day partnered up with Padma Patil and hadn't had the chance to speak to the bushy haired girl yet. When she was done Eric turned to follow the brunette out into the hall on their way to the great hall. A soon as they got into the hall Eric spoke up.

"Hermione?" "Eric?" they asked at the same time. For a moment they looked at each other oddly. "Sorry, you go first." They said, again in unison. Eric laughed and scratched the nape of his neck.

"I have a thousand question," Hermione said, an almost apologetic smile on her face "why don't you start?" the bucktoothed brainiac offered shyly. It was an odd feeling to be talking to someone who was on her level without it being a grownup and she really didn't know what to do in this type of situation.

"Well," Eric said, his eyes glazing over for a second before a ball of soft white light appeared over his hand capturing the girls attention "I was wondering if you still wanted to learn?"

Hermione's face lit up and she started babbling immediately. "Yes! Yes, of course! How did you do that? Is it hard to learn? You said on the train it was a matter of making accidental magic intentional, does that mean anyone can do it? I couldn't find any book in the library about it and Madam Pince told me I had to get a note for the restricted section to read about it. What all can you do? I've read a few Muggle fantasy books, can you throw fireballs? Will I be able to fly? You don't summon demons do you?"

Eric put a finger against her lips and the stream of words stilled, her cheeks turning pink. "Let's see if I can remember this in order. I've got an almost eidetic memory, but it takes some concentration to use." Eric paused for a moment, leaning against the stone banister above the entrance hall. "In order, I pulled out a mote of power and shaped it, not as much as you might think, yes, I don't know what books there are on its professional use, many things, not yet, it's more of a stream of fire, I don't know, probably, and demons? Really?"

Hermione blushed again at that last point. "I'm holding my first session Saturday at noon. Meet me outside the library, we'll find an empty class room from there."

"Alright." Hermione replied cheerfully, pulling out a scrap of parchment and searching for a quill and ink. Eric handed her a BIK pen instead earning a smile.

"Tell the Weasley twins for me and see if you can't drag Harry along. I'm not sure If I'll see them between now and then. I'm gonna try and sound out the puffs tomorrow, but after my spat with Neville… well."

"I understand." The bushy haired girl replied, sticking out her hand. "I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Eric took her hand and laughed.

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Eric stood outside of the defense classroom Friday morning and considered how to approach the Puffs. To be completely honest he didn't have a clue. From reviewing his memories the night before he knew that Hufflepuff was the largest of the four houses holding twelve students in their year of 40. Five girls: Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, Leanne Laughland Megan Jones, Dawn Summers; and seven boys: Justin Finch-Fletchly, Wayne Hopkins, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias smith, Mathew Stebbins, Dirk Summerby and Neville Longbottom.

He'd asked around the aerie about each of them, but at present there wasn't much to tell him how to act.

Bones was the niece of Amelia Bones, the magical minister of defense, and a pureblood from the supposed 'light' houses. Not a lot to go on, but probably cheerful and loyal with a distinct sense of honor. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but with how he'd terrorized one of her housemates it didn't bode well.

Justin Finch-Fletchly was a half-blood who spent most of his life thinking he was a muggleborn, or so the gossip Cho Chang said, so there might be a little similar background he could capitalize on there. Not much, but some.

Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbot, Leanne Laughland, Mathew Stebbins and Dirk Summerby apparently hadn't rated any gossip yet, but Megan Jones was a muggleborn whose grandfather was supposed to have been some big tomb-raider back in WW2 and was serving as a professor at Cambridge. Dawn summers had only hit the gossip network because her wand core held a plume from an African Fwooper. He wasn't sure why that was special though, he'd have to ask Rubeus about it later. Zachariah Smith was supposed to be son of some business man, but that meant little to him, the only businessmen Eric had ever met had been career criminals and he wasn't particularly inclined to trust them.

As the classroom doors opened and everyone filed in Eric put in some extra effort to sit next to Neville, ending up between the chubby blond and Su Li. Su nudged him and quietly asked for a new notepad and pen which he gave her with a smile and Neville simply cowered away from him. Eric looked down at the pale boy and frowned, seeing the disapproving looks of Ernie Macmillan and the other puffs scattered around the room directed his way.

Eric sighed. This was going to be difficult.

Tearing a page off his notepad Eric began to scribble a note. Neville, I'm honestly sorry I frightened you on the train. I wasn't mad at you, I lost my temper when I heard how your family was treating you.

Neville flinched as Eric slid the paper and pen in front of him. Neville and, to Eric's displeasure, Ernie read the note. Neville got a little paler while Ernie's face went from disapproving to hostile to confused. Eric sighed and reached into his mindscape for the source of his power. Exacting a small mote of power Eric made the pen stand at attention and begin to write.

Please say something.

Ernie grabbed the pen and, after a few seconds trying to understand how to use it, scribbled a reply.

What right did you have to terrify my house mate? He's been having nightmares all week, crying about black flames! Eric accepted and read the paper as it was shoved in front of him.

The black flames are something I've been doing since I turned six. They are accidental magic that occurs when I am horrified or uncontrollably angry. Please leave this between me and Neville, the reasons for my outburst are of a deeply personal nature to Mr. Longbottom.

The Hufflepuff boys read the note as Professor Quirell stuttered through what should have been a brief introduction.

Neville took the paper from Ernie and the two began whispering to each other. As their private conversation continued Eric refocused on the new professor, occasionally glancing back at the pair as their professor began to stumble over the course description. As bad as the man's condition seemed to be Eric had to wonder how Dumbledore had ever considered him to teach. Maybe it was just nerves? Eric frowned; he found that hard to believe. Unless the man was going into full breakdowns earlier in the week he shouldn't be stuttering like this. How did he get through the interview if he was this messed up? Or was it something that had happened to him only recently?

"What was all that about?" a voice whispered in his ear.

"Something happened between me and Neville on the train ride here. I'd rather not talk about it, but some things have to be taken care of." There was a hissing sound and Eric looked down to see the paper in front of him again.

What did I tell you that was so wrong that you would scare me like that? Eric looked incredulously at Neville's frightened confusion and Ernie's malevolent scowl. 'how could he not know? How could he not understand what his uncle was doing? On the streets he'd seen teen mothers and drug addicts abandoning congenitally defective babies in dumpsters, he'd seen them hidden away like lepers in the occasional crime family who'd hire him as a thief, he read about it in story books, but in proper families children had always been something he'd been led to believe were sacred. What rational, caring parent would contemplate killing a child? Doing so repeatedly because they weren't perfect? Breathing heavily Eric drug his pen savagely against the paper, scrawling his reply by hand this time.

You told me that because you didn't have magic until you were ten, your uncle repeatedly tried to kill you! Not only that, your family apparently let him! Why wouldn't I react badly, hearing that?

Eric heard Su gasp as he shoved the paper back at Neville. The boy read it and tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes while Ernie when white with shock. Neville turned to his and whispered. "Why are you doing this? Why are you destroying the only family I have left? What do you want from me?"

Conjuring a soft golden light in his hand and holding it out towards Neville, Eric replied, his voice soft. "I want to help you." He said simply. "Would you like to learn?"

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Eric was first alerted to the arrival of his friends by the presence of Ma'am Pince, hovering over his shoulder like a story cloud and tapping her foot in agitation. Looking away from the three tomes he had floating open before him he grinned sheepishly at the librarians disapproving glare. "Is there something I can do for you Ma'am?"

The birdlike witch pointed over toward the entrance to the Library where a number of people were standing talking. He checked his watch and started. Was it noon already? Thanking the elderly Librarian he closed the books and banished them neatly to the marked check-in counter and headed for the door.

"Well, if it isn't"

"The man of the moment!" The Weasley twins declared in unison, noticing his approach before anyone else.

Eric smiled and nodded, taking in the rest of the group and trying to determine who all had come. Hermione was there, alternately smiling at him and casting disapproving looks at the twins, probably something to do with one of their prank stories. Blaise was off to one side, looking coolly disinterested, Harry and, to Eric's dual surprise and displeasure, Ron were standing just beyond the twins. Rounding out the group were Padma, Su, 'Penny' and surprisingly Ernie Macmillan.

That stopped Eric short. What was Ernie doing here? He'd invited a different, darker, blond; of that he was fairly certain. He'd find out what was going on soon enough. Shrugging the small redhead lead them to the nearest classroom and began floating the desks into a circle. When the eleven of them were seated Eric began.

"I would like to thank all of you for coming here today and willingly sacrificing your Saturday sunshine to listen to an 11 year old kid puff himself up." Everybody chuckled at that, save Ron who just sat there sullenly. "With that in mind I know that each of you had your own reasons for attending. Hermione," Eric said nodding to the frizzy haired Gryffindor "is here for knowledge. Blaise sought me out with dreams of power." The pair nodded at each other, Zabini smirking as everyone turned to look at him briefly. "The 'twin terrors' for their sense of adventure" he continued earning foxy grins from the pair of them "Su for a sense of familiarity and Padma and Harry are here to support budding friendships. That leaves Ronald whose here because we both covet Harry, as creepy as that sounds and Ernie who I assume is checking this out for Neville's peace of mind. Penny though, I'm at a loss. I can guess that you're here for the same reason as Hermione, but how did you even know to show up? Not that I'm bothered by you being here, mind."

Penelope smiled serenely "I knew you'd be teaching your friends here today because you're about as subtle as an Erumpant Eric. You may not have noticed it, but the entire school is talking about your gifts. Ravenclaw is largely skeptical despite the big presentation you made here your first night, Slytherin is using Blaise here as a litmus stick and the Gryffs are wary of anyone who becomes friends with those to this quickly." Fred and George beamed with pride at that pronouncement.

Then as Penelope was about to pick up again Ernie cut in. "And we puffs don't particularly like you. This meeting goes well and things might start cooling down, but running roughshod over one of our den hasn't earned you any brownie points" The boy said pompously.

"Neville," Eric breathed "I knew as soon as I saw him running that was gonna come back to bite me somehow. I swear I di…"

"I know, Eric." The blond said cutting him off. "I read the notes. You're still gonna hafta prove yourself benign."

Eric sat there quietly for several minutes, thinking. "Well, on to business then." His eyes glazed over briefly and then glowed faintly with power as dozens of items from around the room began to dance through the air before settling in the center of the room where the random books quills and bobbles formed a vague facsimile of a human holding a pair of fireballs. Eric stood in the same position as the figure, sweating profusely; as the various items changed color to match the civilian cloths he was currently wearing.

When he spoke his voice was strained. "Magic." He began. "It's our birthright. Generated by our bodies it runs thick through our blood, to be called to the surface by those with the will to harness it." Eric fell to his knees, the construct becoming a pile of books and other classroom detritus. Shakily he shoved himself back up to his chair. "Those were the words written by Trudy Canavan in the second book of the black magician trilogy, the books that contributed the most to my success. Since finding I had magic I've read everything from Zen Buddhism to self-help books and every work of entertainment fiction in between and even a number of movies." There was a short flash in his eyes and a four pieces of paper flew onto the desks of everyone there along with a ball barring.

"Now, there are two ways we can do this. The first is the way I learned. I can offer you a selection of the books I found useful and a paper on my findings. This took me six months to start showing consistent, reliable results so with my direction it should take you lot… two, maybe three on the outside? If you practice of course, longer if there's no effort." Everyone was looking at him incredulously.

"And the other way?" Padma asked, raising her hand like she was in class.

Eric grinned. "Mrs. Canavan has provided me with a lesson plan. I leaned most of my spells by reverse engineering it, if you'd each allow I'm sure it could work for you as well."

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Harry found himself floating in a formless void occasionally images and scenes from his life would half form from the shadows before fading away. It was interesting to say the least, and certianly NOT what he had expected when Eric had suggested that he be allowed to invade their minds. For one, there was no feeling of violation like Penelope had suggested, his memories didn't feel like they were being rifled through and examined by any outside force stealing control from his own mind.

Or perhaps Eric was just that good? Now there was a disturbing thought…

Harry froze as the mist shuttered three times, like it was being hit. Then it came again, almost like someone was…

Harry! Are you going to let me in?

Eric? What are you doing? I thought you said you wouldn't be attacking us like prefect Clearwater was worried about…

…Harry, please don't tell me you've picked up Ron's habit of not listening to instructions.

…Um, no? What was it you wanted me to do again?

There was a long moment of silence and the presence that was his friend seemed to be struggling to hold some great force. Picture your mind as a room. Any room will do.

That seemed simple enough. Harry's brow furrowed in thought and the four drab walls and cracked ceiling of his closet formed around him. Harry frowned at the image as it brought up unpleasant memories. With those memories details began to appear. His cot and blanket on the floor, waiting to be rolled up. The vacuum cleaner and several brooms appeared off to one side. A spiders web he had intentionally not cleaned out hung from the corner.

What does it look like?

Harry thought of his surroundings, preparing to answer when he felt a sense of disgust coming from the other side of the wall/

Something wrong? the ebon haired boy asked.

Why are you in a cupboard? There was a pause. They made you sleep in a broom cupboard?! Another pause, then Under the stairs. With a lock on the outside of your door…

Harry scratched the nape of his neck. That's um… a lot more personal than I wanted you to know. I told you on the train, my Aunt wasn't very fond of me and Vernon hated anything that could be called unsusal. I got moved to a room upstairs after I got my letter. And how did you know that anyways? I thought you said you couldn't enter my mind without my permission?

You projected the image at me. Eric replied. All but shouted it really, here I'll send it back.

The image of his closet flashed in front of him, only slightly nodded, noticing the shaky quality of his friends 'voice'. He focused and the image reformed into the small bedroom, now devoid of Duddley's toys. Here, is this better?

Yes, not I want you to concentrate on making a door. This one leads outside so you'll want to make it big.

A moment later the sliding glass doors at the back of the Dursley house appeared. Harry slid the door open revealing Eric standing in a void, the face of what looked like a storefront behind him. This is the space between minds. Eric said, preempting his question. It's completely imaginary, a representation of the physical distance our magic has to cross to link thoughts. Eventually you may get good enough to see the minds of others in this space, but for now let's head inside and get started.

Harry stepped to the side and Eric walked in, nodding at something in the room.

"Alright; basic introductions to astral relations. First off: memories. I normally access mine in detail by imagining a portrait on the wall and thinking back on some experience or other, like in the book. Good, just like that." Eric explained, glancing back on the image that appeared where Harry knew the rooms window to be. "I'm not sure how wizards do this, but secrets, thoughts and memories you don't want others to be able to see when they come here can be hidden behind another door. Imagine one on the wall there and imagine putting things inside it. Even if wizards have another method of doing this it should take them at least a few moments to break down any door and should give you time to trance in and defend yourself."

Harry nodded and followed suit as Eric continued to explain how things worked in his book and what parts seemed to carry over into reality and how it contrasted with what he'd heard so far about Occlumancy and Legillimancy. A lot of the concepts were pretty basic, Telempathy or the passing of emotionally charged ideas through magic, mental constructs allowed for organization and quick recall of memories and knowledge and eye contact made everything much easier, thus making looking away a good defense against most mental attacks.

"And now for the real reason for being here." Eric said. "I want you to focus on making another door, but this time instead of putting stuff behind it or forming a construct by which I can interact with your mind, I want you to open a door to your concept of magic. If you need help, I can show you mine. Hermione and Penny needed to see it to find theirs."

Harry shook his head. "No, I got it." Turning to the wall near the bed Harry frowned for what felt like several minutes and a door appeared. Harry opened it to a void with a light at its heart, both impossibly far and just out of reach at the same time.

"Wow…"

Harry turned to look at the amazed expression on his friends face.

"It's alright, go inside." Eric continued, shaking his head. "The distance, again, is imaginary. A representation to how far you are from conscious control. It's why my eyes glaze over anytime I try to use my power. I have to come in here and find it."

Harry stepped forward into the void, finding it strangely solid. As he neared the enormous sphere of violet light he reached out, surprised by its heat. His hand drew back. "Is it safe to touch? How do you control it like this?"

Eric shrugged. "Feel free to touch it, it's your power after all, it won't hurt you."

Harry stepped forward, his hand skirting the edges of the energy before plunging in. It felt like a hot bath, hot and rough at first but then welcoming and euphoric after only moments to acclimate. Harry pushed his arm in up to the shoulder, basking in the feeling. As he did so he panicked, feeling his limbs, his heart pumping blood through his veins, the cool drift of air through the class room. He couldn't wake back up now, still needed to learn how to use his friends magic!

"Calm down." He heard from behind him, as a pair of hands pulled him back into the void.

"What was that?" Harry asked. "I felt like I was losing my grip, falling out of the trance and back into my body."

Eric smirked. "Your body is your magic." The redhead explained. "I'm not entirely sure on the mechanics of it or why it forms into a flame at our core, but your magic is generated by and feeds into every cell of your body, that's why you feel so exhausted when you overuse it." The boy got a confused look on his face for a moment before continuing. "It'd make sense by that, that running yourself dry would kill you, but it's never seemed to be the case. Anytime I've gotten really worn down by an enthusiastic crowd and later needed to use my magic to defend myself I've run dry as you can go, but all that seems to happen is I get sleep-in-till-diner-tomorrow tired."

Harry nodded and listened intently as Eric explained how to draw forth small motes of power and form their intent. He explained it could be done purely through focus on ones goal and high emotion as happened with accidental magic, but this was far more reliable.

As they came out of their respective trances Eric set him practicing on the ball and paper he'd been given at the beginning of the lesson and turned his gaze on Blaise.

Minutes later Harry stared at the floating metal with a single thought going through his mind. Magic is so cool!