Matou Shinji and the Heirs of Slytherin

A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story

Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.

Summary: Trouble is brewing in the Wizarding World. In the wake of the Stone Incident, Albus Dumbledore has begun quietly preparing Britain to survive the coming war. The Stone Cutters, a new organization at Hogwarts for the most talented and distinguished of students, seek new blood to bolster its strength. The Boy-Who-Lived seeks his destiny as the Heir of Slytherin. And a boy from the east meets a specter of the past.

Chapter 8. Echoes of the Void

After the Welcoming Feast, the younger students, new and old alike, were escorted to their dorms by mix of watchful prefects and Hit Wizards, with one perfect and two Hit Wizards assigned to each year group. The prefects, of course, knew both the building layout and their charges well, while the Hit Wizards were there for fire support if it became necessary – say, if there was an encounter with something like a troll or other creature in the hallways. To some of the prefects, this seemed excessive, given that Hogwarts was generally regarded as the safest place in all of Magical Britain, but others remembered the events of last year – a troll getting loose in the corridors, a Dark Wizard infiltrating Hogwarts, the death of a student – and approved of the extra caution, as Sirius Black's escape in light of those events was rather…ominous.

By luck of the draw, Matou Shinji and the rest of the Ravenclaw Second Years were being escorted to the Tower by Penelope Clearwater, one of the sixth year prefects, with the other prefects paired with students of various year groups, and the current Head Girl – a Ravenclaw herself – taking charge of the First Years.

The group was certainly not as bright-eyed and lost in wonder as they had been the first time they'd wandered through Hogwarts' hallowed halls, and the presence of the Hit Wizards rendered most of the students more subdued, but from most, there was still a muted sense of either relief to be back or grief that the summer had ended.

For Matou Shinji, however, the return was somewhat different.

For him, the boy from the east, Hogwarts was both danger and opportunity, a place where mortal peril was commonplace and practitioners of witchcraft with human sensibilities made a mockery of everything he'd believed for years – but also a place where he could make connections, build his powerbase, and learn strange and ancient arts.

He'd had a mere taste of that last year, aligning himself with the Boy-Who-Lived, slaying a troll, becoming a founding member of the Stone Cutter Society, joining Sialim Sokaris as her co-conspirator, and facing off against what was apparently an avatar of the most feared practitioner of the Dark Arts in recent times, Lord Voldemort himself.

He hadn't known, when he'd sat by the Boy-Who-Lived on the train and when he'd stood to applaud Harry being sorted into Slytherin, the year would be so eventful, but then, he couldn't have. Which made him wonder just how terrible the current year would be, given that the situation already seemed far more serious than the year before.

The fact that a practitioner of the Dark Arts – one widely regarded as the right hand of Voldemort himself – had escaped from Azkaban shortly after the death of Quirrell – the most recent of Voldemort's avatars – could hardly be a coincidence, after all.

He had enough examples from the Moonlit World to know that the more powerful and experienced a magus – or other being – was, the more difficult it would be to permanently end him or her. And while he didn't know if this applied to inhuman practitioners of witchcraft, it was probably safer to assume it did unless proven otherwise.

…combined with the other information he'd gleaned, this meant assuming that whoever the man known as Sirius Black had once been, he was now likely another avatar of Voldemort, and that Matou Shinji had likely earned himself a place on the other practitioner's kill list immediately after Harry Potter.

A rather impressive achievement, as the child of prophecy had been on the man's kill list since before Shinji had even been born – and had retained his place on the list by stubbornly refusing to die.

(Truth be told, the girl that had been known as Sialim Sokaris would rate as high as Potter, but Shinji doubted Voldemort would ever find her – and if he did, he'd be the one in for an unpleasant surprise. Even the lowest of the Alchemists of Atlas were troublesome at the best of times; facing the Director of Atlas herself without having something to ensure one's victory was tantamount to suicide.)

But that was his reality – the reality that in practicing his Craft, he walked with death, as magi did, as opposed to the people all around him, those who were supposedly his peers but were so very carefree, seemed so human in spite of their heritage.

It was odd.

Back in Mahoutokoro, he'd been around others who understood how closely every practitioner of the Arts walked with death really, how power was not something one could take for granted, how one might learn the basics through lecture and rote memorization, but how mastery required practice and self-study.

Here in Hogwarts, the way most of the students treated the Craft they were learning – as though Witchcraft was merely something to study, as though it was something they didn't have to practice, understand, or respect, sickened him. They considered it a given that their professors would teach them all that they needed to know, and seemed to regard excellence, or genius, as mastering the pronunciation and wand movements of a spell rather than understanding why certain movements were linked to certain types of spells, or how to create new spells.

Even the Slytherins, who were reputed to seek power above all else, as well as his fellow Ravenclaws, who were said to seek knowledge above all – with Granger being one of the most notorious examples – fell into this trap. They simply looked to proven formulae or solutions, did not dare to innovate, create, experiment, denying the impossible when the possible was before them – or simply accepting someone who could do it as an anomaly instead of trying to figure out how.

To be fair, much of the reverence his peers had for him was due to this irrational faith they had in the system. And while he admitted that to some extent he enjoyed the adulation of the masses, the respect afforded to him as a Stone Cutter and a recipient of the Order of Merlin, he also knew his reputation was mostly due to his connections and the fact that others didn't know what to make of a boy from a distant land.

And that realization made him feel rather hollow, as he knew they didn't really know him and what he was capable of – unlike Aozaki Touko and Sialim Sokaris, who knew exactly what he was capable of (which compared to their own capabilities was insignificant), and yet had taken an interest in him anyway. Their acknowledgement – and respect – meant something to him because it was not easily given, because it had been earned through blood, sweat, and tears.

The only thing that came close to that at Hogwarts was the mutual respect and regard the Stone Cutters held for each other, after their encounters with first a troll and then a practitioner of the Dark Arts. Together they had been forged, together they had been tested as no others had.

And it set them apart, made them aware of the dangers that were not explained to them, isolated them from those who were ostensibly their peers, to whom Hogwarts was simply another school and witchcraft another subject. So, more than ever, Shinji found it odd being in the castle again, surrounded by people who were of his year, but who he otherwise had next to nothing in common with.

Surprisingly little of that oddity came from the fact that the knots of conversations around him were all being held in English. While it had seemed strange the year before to be surrounded by English when all he'd heard were the dribs and drabs around Fuyuki, he'd spent a year in Magical Britain, and Touko, Tomas and Harry had all spoken English to him during the summer (as well they might, given that for two of them, it was the only language they had in common), it was a familiar enough strangeness.

Perhaps some of it came from their rather vocal enjoyment of the heavy British fare – a feast of endless roasted, fried, and stewed meats of all varieties, potatoes that had been boiled, mashed up, put in stews or what have you, sweet and savoury pies, tureens of buttered vegetables and boats of gravy, and more besides.

He was, to be honest, quite looking forward to the beginning of the school year, when he could slip away to the kitchens for a quiet meal instead of having to eat in the Great Hall with throngs of strangers. And well, the house-elves were quite good about creating what one wanted them to make – he'd even brought a book of recipes for that very purpose.

But most of the reason for his discomfort was the same as it had been the year before: the alien mindset the children of Magical Britain seemed to have, how they seemed to be so normal, so…casual about the gift they'd been given, and its attendant dangers.

Some of this was probably due to the lack of focus given to History of Magic, and all the terrible events that had once transpired in the world. Some was probably childhood excitement with being allowed to use some form of thaumaturgy at last – much as American teens tended to go a little overboard when they went to university for the first time and made a little too free with alcohol. And some was probably related to differences in physiology.

Barring the long and technical explanations which Aozaki Touko had promised to one day deliver if Shinji proved himself worthy of the knowledge, Magic Circuits caused pain when they were used, while Magic Cores did not.

And without pain or the threat of pain, the form of feedback that children were generally most sensitive to, there was little enough in the way of caution. Hence why Shinji had built up his reputation, so that most would be cautious about being too free with him. For he was a Stone Cutter, even if he could be regarded as the least of them or perhaps simply the most mysterious.

Hillard was a prefect, the Weasley Twins had already been notorious as the school's champion pranksters, and Harry Potter – well, was Harry Potter, Magical Britain's most famous celebrity.

They all had a long history of achievements in Magical Britain, while Shinji had simply shown up to Hogwarts and essentially demanded recognition – recognition which he'd received in spades.

But there was no more time for thought, as the intelligent door-knocker of Ravenclaw House was speaking, giving out one of the riddles it liked to open the year with:

"Many have heard me, but nobody has seen me, and I will not speak back until spoken to. What am I?"

"Any takers?" Prefect Clearwater asked.

Surprisingly, no hands went up right away – mostly because Hermione, who seemed to know the answer, was biting her lower lip and keeping her arms at her side with badly concealed effort.

Obviously Penelope noticed this as well.

"Well, don't keep us waiting, Miss Granger," she said wryly. "Some of us would like to get into our beds and rest for the evening."

"Ah, yes," Hermione said, her face going red as everyone gave a light chuckle. "An echo."

Her reply was apparently correct, as the door swung open, revealing the warm familiarity of the Ravenclaw Common Room, with a gaggle of first years congregated therein having the rules of the House explained to them by the Head Girl, before being dismissed to their dorms.

Penelope waved for her Second Years to enter, with the Hit Wizards who had escorted them from the Great Hall bowing and departing to rejoin their fellows in the rest of the castle.

Once inside, with the door safely closed behind them, the prefect helpfully pointed out the direction of the Second Year dorms, noting that they were laid out similarly to the First Year dorms, and that roommate assignments would remain the same except special circumstances required otherwise.

With that, she dismissed her charges to get settled – all except Shinji that was, who was asked to remain behind a moment.

"What can I do for you, Prefect Clearwater?" he asked pleasantly enough.

For his part, the Matou scion had been more or less expecting this, given that he'd barely lived in his dorm room last year, using the study room after the first night.

"I was asked by our Head of House to ask you if you'd want an assignment in the dorms," Penelope explained. "If not, you are welcome to use the study room you had last year."

"The study room would be wonderful, thank you," Shinji answered with a nod, whereupon the prefect handed him the room key.

"That is what Professor Flitwick expected you to say," the prefect said quietly. "He also wishes to see you tomorrow. Before breakfast, if possible."

"…that should be fine," Shinji said cautiously, shaking his head. "Is this about…"

"Probably," Penelope said, nodding grimly. "Our Head of House has always been good at taking care of those in his house. Decent man, for a part-goblin. Anyway, he wants to see how you're doing after last year."

"I see."

Shinji nodded and gave a non-committal grunt.

"We haven't had anyone die at Hogwarts for decades, you know," the prefect continued in a softer voice. "Not since the Heir of Slytherin incident almost fifty years ago. And Myrtle was a Ravenclaw too."

"Myrtle?" Shinji repeated, the name not sounding familiar.

"The student who died," Penelope explained, looking towards the door where Hillard was escorting the Third Years into the Common Room. "She's a ghost now, usually haunting the first-floor girls' bathroom, though she's been known to pop into the prefect's bathroom now and then."

"Prefects get a special bathroom?" Shinji asked, the mention of special privileges piquing his interest.

"Prefects and Quidditch Captains," the sixth year girl corrected with a grimace. "But yes, there are a few perks to power. Speaking of which, don't the Stone Cutters have access to the Founder's Tower?"

"Well…yes." The Matou scion couldn't well lie about that, given that it was common knowledge by now. "I've never seen it though, given—"

"Right, my apologies," Penelope said a bit too quickly, remembering the boy's long hospitalization. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw her fellow prefect Robert Hillard walking towards them after dismissing the Third Years – though Shinji thought he might have seen her eyes spark in irritation when Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, waved to the prefect. "Robert. It's been a while."

"Only a few days, Penny," Hillard replied easily. "We did see each other quite often at the Ministry, after all."

As it turned out, the two prefects – along with Percy Weasley, a prefect of Gryffindor – had all had internships with the Ministry over the summer following the successful completion of their OWLs. Robert had worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, put through the basic training afforded to a Hit Wizard while learning the basics of how some of the other offices (like the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office or the Improper Use of Magic Office) worked to enforce the Statute of Secrecy. Penelope had worked for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, under the purview of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad and the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. And Percy Weasley had worked for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, specifically under the auspices of the International Magical Trading Standards Body.

Such internships were fairly rare at the best of times, but it seemed that receiving an Order of Merlin, or being associated with a member of that Order, opened doors that were normally closed.

Why, even the Weasley Twins had secured part time employment over the summer, with George working at Zonko's Joke Shop, while Fred had been taken in by Flourish and Botts. Hillard was sure they had been hired mostly for the boost to popularity and free publicity their presence lent the two enterprises, with their cost in salary and free goods a small price to pay for the increased name recognition – particularly when Gilderoy Lockhart himself patronized their establishments, praising the Weasley Twins as fine examples of wizardkind and young heroes.

Indeed, he'd even taken a picture with the Ministry interns and the Weasley Twins as a group, with the shot making the front page of the Daily Prophet, highlighting an exclusive interview with the new History of Magic Professor in which he explained why he was taking a sabbatical from his adventures to teach.

Figuring prominently in the article was a quote that 'those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it' – something that Shinji was sure he'd seen before – with Lockhart mentioning that the terrible state of History education at Hogwarts could not be allowed to stand. Certainly, Lockhart said that it was refreshing to see a competent instructor – such as Alastor Moody – in the post of Defense against the Dark Arts instructor, but that in his mind, History was the position that had suffered worse.

In response to questions about the recent death of the late Professor Quirrell, Lockhart had even shown a bit of sadness. He'd known the man when they were both students at Hogwarts – both in Ravenclaw, to boot – and freely admitted that the man had been very bright, with a gift for Defensive Magic and a mind the envy of any wizard alive today. To Lockhart, it was both an honor to have personally known one of the Wizarding World's heroes and a tragedy that all that would remain was a medal – even if that medal was the Order of Merlin (1st Class) itself.

To properly honor the man – just like the other unsung heroes in the Wizarding World's History— his story needed to be remembered and told, and so he, Gilderoy Lockhart, was coming to Hogwarts, not simply to teach, but to learn about the man Quirinus Quirrell had become and to write the biography of his old friend.

Which sounded quite good unless one was a Stone Cutter and knew the truth of what had transpired, though to be fair, Lockhart had only the official story to work with. Shinji also noted that one of Quirrell's challenges had cast Lockhart in the role of an incompetent gloryhound who took credit for the accomplishments of others, so he wondered if they truly had been friends – or if Lockhart was simply being something of an opportunist.

When he asked Hillard for his opinion, however, the older Stone Cutter refused to answer one way or the other.

"I will admit that I've never been the biggest fan of him," Robert conceded, taking note of Penelope's look of annoyance. "But what he says about being remembered is true, and he is very good at what he does."

"And what would that be?"

"Tell stories that people remember – that people talk about," Robert said, shaking his head with a wry twist of his lips. "He's a good writer, I'll credit, but…"

He shrugged.

"Anyway, I can't really say."

"Are you sure you aren't jealous of him, Robert?" Penelope broke in, raising an eyebrow. "After all, the world knows his name, but not yours."

"Jealous?" Hillard echoed. "Might I remind you that my Order of Merlin is one rank above his?"

"Well…he still has a few other honors on you, including the Witches Weekly Best Smile Award. Not that you care, since you got to see your precious Tonks all summer."

"Tonks..." Shinji repeated. "Wasn't she the Hufflepuff metamorphmagus you had a crush on?" He recalled a conversation they'd had almost a year ago, suppressing a smile as Hillard's eyes twitched at his question.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Hillard said flatly, though he refused to meet Shinji's or Penelope's gaze. "She was simply my trainer in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and I was fortunate to have her, since she's Alastor Moody's chosen protégé. The man's a legend among those of us who wish to become Aurors, and to learn from his student…"

"So you're more interested in our Seeker then, Robert? Is that why you've been letting her fawn over you?"

"I have been doing nothing of the sort," Hillard answered stiffly, sighing as he looked towards the stairs where the third year girls had disappeared to. "Anyway, I simply came over to tell Matou that I will not be able to spend as much time with Stone Cutter activities this year. The prefects have been slated to receive additional combat training under Alastor Moody, and as both a Stone Cutter and someone who has worked with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I have been appointed as Prefect Watch Captain."

Both of Shinji's eyebrows shot up at the rather impressive sounding title.

"So you command the prefects then?" Shinji asked, thinking back to what he'd read in Hogwarts: A History. "I thought that was the job of the Head Boy – and the Head Girl."

"Generally this is so," Penelope said quietly. "But it's an unusual year, so responsibility has been split. For everyday happenings, the Head Boy and Girl are still in charge. But during training or in an actual combat situation, should it come to that…"

"The duty falls to me, since they need a single person to lead instead of several. And since I have experience in these sort of situations…" Hillard filled in, his expression grim.

"I see," Shinji said. Hillard certainly did have experience in that area, given the events of the ill-fated dungeon run. "Well, if we can help in any way…"

"I may take you up on that offer. Someone has to train the rest of the students to better defend themselves, after all, and Professor Flitwick is looking for people to help out with the Dueling Club," Hillard replied, even as his eyes took note of a brown-haired figure coming down the stairs. "Anyway, Penny, shall we talk in private? I think Matou has someone who wishes to see him."

Penelope Clearwater looked in the direction Hillard was gesturing, noting the approaching form of Hermione Granger, and shook her head.

"Somehow, I shouldn't be surprised," she grumbled, nodding to Matou. "Alright then, Robert. Good night, Matou."

With that, the two prefects left the area as Hermione reached Shinji's side.

"Hello Hermione." Shinji managed a smile for his friend, but his look faded when he saw she wasn't smiling. "What's wrong?"

"What was all that about?" the bushy-haired brunette asked a bit crossly, referring to the commotion with the prefects. "You're not in trouble, are you?"

"No, of course not. Prefect Clearwater was just giving me the key for a study room," Shinji said quietly. Hermione seemed to flinch at this, and up close, Shinji could see that she seemed drained, as if she hadn't slept well in a long time. "Would you…like to see?"

"Come to your room, you mean?" Hermione summed up, looking a little stunned. "Is it still in the corridor where…"

"Most likely," Shinji answered simply. "Come."

Other students might be coming down soon, and he thought this might be a talk best done in private.

He walked off towards the hidden entrance of the corridor that led to the study rooms, with Hermione in tow. Tapping the wall in the pattern he'd learned from last year, he stepped forward – and through an intangible space, pulling Hermione through by her hand, as he wasn't sure those without keys would be allowed entry otherwise.

The corridor was just as he remembered – quiet and dimly lit, with study rooms branching off from it.

"So this is where you and Sokaris stayed." Hermione's voice echoed against the stone. "Which one was…?"

"This one," Shinji said as he stopped at the one at the end of the hall. Study Room 4, where Sialim Sokaris had resided. "This was hers."

"I see. And yours?"

Without another word, Shinji fished out the key he had gotten from Prefect Clearwater and fitted it to the keyhole of Room 1. With a heavy thunk, it opened, revealing a small, Spartan room with a small cot and desk in one corner of the room, with a workbench and stool in the other.

"This is where you lived? But it's so…"

Plain, she wanted to say. The place lacked the luxuries of the dorm rooms and didn't seem like it was designed for long-term habitation at all.

"It's all I need," Shinji said pragmatically. And it was – or at least it would be after he set up his basic ofuda-based wards to make sure no others could intrude without his permission. A place hidden from the sight and sound of others, where he could not feel the presence of other humans.

Somewhere he felt safe.

"Sokaris was like this too?" Hermione was beginning to think there was a lot to Sokaris that she had never really grasped, sides to her best friend that hadn't been shown to anyone – except maybe Shinji.

"Yes."

Come to think about it, Shinji hadn't ever let anyone else into the corridor before, so him showing her this place…what did it mean?

"Matou…I…"

"Mhm?"

There was something like a minute of silence before the brunette worked up the courage to speak, looking at her friend with deep, haunted eyes.

"Why?" she asked. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Why not?"

"Because the rest of the Stone Cutters are avoiding me…" she said, looking down and swallowing. "Even Prefect Hillard. Even Harry Potter. Because even you avoided me on the train, after not writing all summer – not even a word, Matou Shinji."

"Hermione…"

"You went and sat with that other girl instead, and some of the Slytherins, people you didn't really know," she continued, pain in her voice as she reached out for him, but let her hand drop instead. "Why? Am I…broken? Was it…my fault?"

"No," Shinji answered, reaching out to steady the poor girl. "It's not your fault."

"Then why?"

"I sat with Harry and the Slytherins because Harry needed me there," the Matou scion said, his grey eyes intense. "He was there, you know. When Quirrell and Sokaris died."

"He saw it all?" Hermione whispered in shock. He'd known that the Stone Cutters had participated in the fight, but not to what extent.

"He was the last person to see Sialim Sokaris alive," Shinji answered. "He blames himself."

"But…he defeated the Dark Wizard!" Hermione protested, not seeing how Harry could possibly have reason to blame himself. "What could he possibly—"

"Sokaris died. So did Quirrell," Shinji interjected. "Because Harry wasn't strong enough. Or at least that what he tells himself."

"That's…"

"Could we have been stronger? Could we have done something more? We all wonder that."

Hermione Granger had never really thought of what it must be like for the Stone Cutters after the encounter. She'd seen their Order of Merlins and seen how deeply Shinji had felt during the funeral, but…hadn't thought about how they must have thought of it. Heroes were people who won, not people who suffered, or at least that was the case in most books, which had been sanitized to present a fairly one-sided view of these things.

"It wasn't your—"

"We know that, but knowledge doesn't erase doubt, does it?" he asked, looking into Granger's eyes, with the brunette gasping at the question. For it was true – she knew it probably wasn't her fault, even if she wondered if she could have said something, done something – maybe even gone with them. Maybe then she would have been able to say goodbye to Sokaris, at least…

"No," she said. "And…"

"And as for not telling you anything, I was under orders from Albus Dumbledore," Shinji said simply, his lips drawn. "Harry was with me, and we couldn't give away our locations due to the risk of Sirius Black."

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling guilty that she'd thought that he didn't care. Or that he'd simply found someone to replace her – another young and lonely girl, given how that Lovegood girl had just plopped down next to him and how he'd clapped for her too. "Oh. I didn't know. If Dumbledore said so…"

…then it had to be ok, was the thought she left unspoken, given that she wasn't sure she believed it herself after reading the Official Secrets textbook that Professor Lockhart had assigned. After all, it had briefly mentioned a history with Grindelwald, how he had once had a sister who had died under suspicious circumstances, and how his father had been locked away in Azkaban for his crimes.

And if it was in a book, it couldn't really be false…

"Well, right or not, that's how it is," Shinji noted, walking over to his storage chest. "Anyway, I did get something for you."

"Oh?" Hermione asked, looking up, biting her lip as she wondered what he might have gotten her – and feeling all the more guilty that she hadn't gotten him anything from France.

Opening his chest, he withdrew a small lacquered box with the design of dragonflies in reeds in gold against a glossy black.

"…it's beautiful," Hermione breathed, only for her eyes to widen and her mouth to go dry when Shinji opened the box and revealed a sprig of honeysuckle blossoms intricately folded from paper – a decoration for her hair, it seemed. "Thank you."

"I don't forget about people close to me, Hermione," Shinji noted mildly, as Hermione took the box into her hands and clutched it so tightly her knuckles went white.

She looked vulnerable in that moment, very much like the night she'd broken down in his arms, but he said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

"Did Professor Flitwick ask to meet with you, too?" she asked finally, not meeting his eyes.

"Yes. Just like he did last year."

"Oh – what is that like?"

Hermione Granger had never been called to a Professor's office before due to the fact she'd never really been in trouble, and so didn't know what to expect. She'd only had reason to talk to teachers in the classroom setting – no more and no less.

"Flitwick is…a nice person," Shinji allowed. "He'll probably ask you how you are feeling and if there is anything he can do to help."

Anything that would help. For a moment, Hermione considered asking him to let her stay in this corridor where Sokaris had lived, but the girl liked her creature comforts – and more, would feel very improper staying in close proximity with a boy. Even being in this private room was enough to embarrass her…

"Do you think…he'd let me have the Book of Potions?" she asked almost timidly. It was the one and only thing she'd ever gotten from Sokaris, after all…

"I'm sure you only need to ask," Shinji said comfortingly, squeezing her shoulder.

"Are you…that is…are you asking for anything?" Hermione was curious as to what he would ask for, and how he was coping, since Shinji never said much about himself at the best of times. His words were always a little slippery…

"Probably some tutoring," was all the Boy-from-the-East replied, with Hermione thinking he wanted help getting caught up on the things he'd missed.

"I could—"

"No, I wouldn't want to bother you," Shinji said with an odd look in his eyes. He didn't think she'd be able to help with what he wanted to learn anyway – non-verbal magic, so it was better for her to think he wasn't getting special training. "Anyway, we have double Transfiguration early tomorrow, and I have my meeting with Professor Flitwick before that, so it's about time for bed."

"Good night then, Shinji."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

He escorted her out of the corridor, noting idly that some of his peers had returned to the Common Room – where he was apparently one of the topics of discussion, along with Sirius Black and the Boy-Who-Lived, with those who'd sat with him being badgered with questions – and some of the young girls looking enviously at Luna and the flower in her hair.

They fell silent as they noticed him, but Shinji only waved and disappeared back through the wall into his corridor as he had his wards to set up and a few ofuda to make. This surprised the first years, who hadn't quite believed the rumors about the young maverick who was one of the unofficial powers of Ravenclaw House and a bearer of the Order of Merlin – that he had a private room and worked mysterious arts.

Seeing him pop through a wall - even if they'd done the same in Platform 9 ¾– and seeing how they could not, elevated his prestige in their eyes. And Luna's prestige as well, as he'd chosen her to sit with, so she must be someone special.

Luna only smiled, in the dreamy way she usually did, with rumors and gossip swirling and building up around her.

In the wee hours of the early morning, Shinji arose to perform his morning routine, washing and cleaning at a time when he thought no one else would be awake. And no one was when he left the study room and headed to the bathroom upstairs. Such was not the case, however, when he came – fully dressed – down into the Common Room again, as he heard a pleasant voice echoing from the chairs by the fireplace.

Turning towards it, he saw a slim blonde figure with silvery eyes looking down at a book held upside down in her hands and reading out loud:

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

'A Hobbit? What, precisely, is a Hobbit?'

A goblin of some sort? Another name for an elf? Or some species he'd never heard of?

Since he was from another country – and was used to a different tradition of magic and magical creatures, he was more openminded than those who grew up in one tradition and who might simply dismiss someone who'd done likewise but clung to different beliefs as an oddball.

And as he thought, Luna's voice continued to echo in the airy Room.

"Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort." She turned in his direction, her luminous silver eyes looking into his. "Hullo Matou Shinji."

"Good morning, Luna," Shinji replied, taking her greeting as an invitation to come over. "What are you reading?"

The cover of the book – being held upside down, as per usual – didn't reveal much, as it simply had a stylized depiction of trees and mountains, along with the title and the name of an author by the name of J.R.R. Tolkein.

"An Inkling's work," was all she said, in the languid manner of hers. "Care to join me?"

"For a time," he answered agreeably, sitting down beside her on the great couch. Luna tilted the book so he could read along with her, with Shinji noting idly that she still wore his flower in her hair.

It was apparently a storybook of some kind, set in a place known as the Shire. Was it a book unique to these practitioners? He'd have to look into it.

"They asked about you," she said after a few moments.

"Hm?"

"Everyone was curious about Matou Shinji and the Heir of Slytherin," the girl continued in the fey-like voice of hers. "A pity you don't have the lost diadem, or people would think you're an heir too."

Shinji managed to keep his face straight, though he did resolve to ask some questions of his Head of House regarding his heritage. It was probably time he learned about who he was, not just as a Matou, but from the other side of what made him who he was.

"And what do you think about it all?"

"I think there are some questions which need not be answered. And some answers that roam without questions. Silence is nice, isn't it?"

"Hn," Shinji grunted by way of agreement, with the two enjoying a few more moments of peace and good literature before they headed off to prepare for the day ahead.