Dead Pond

by Hawzey

Son of Voldemort and Bellatrix. Mortimer was content in his own little world. That is until an old man with the shiniest eyes appears. Now he has to adapt into this new and strange world. With no one to really 'guide' him, Mortimer must now navigate his way and find his own footing. Hopefully the year goes smooth. . . Going on year 4.

39. Chapter 39

AN: Things are a little difficult at moment but will still post when I can. Thanks for the reviews (very insightful) Eh - I got nothing else to say... Thank you for reading. Follow/Fav/Review.

Following Luna, they headed towards Hagrid's hut. Their legs kicking away at the snow. The holidays might've been over, but the snow gave Mortimer the impression that it was here to stay, making it a very long winter.

Little by little, they see the smoke coming out from the small chimney and after a few minutes, they could see the home. Luna makes a run for it, at the same time, Mortimer decides to mope, taking his own time.

"Come on, Mortimer!" Luna yells from across. Waving her hands, she urges him. "We're nearly there."

A groan, he doesn't answer back, rather kept walking. Finding himself tired, the snow made matters worse. Feeling heavy, he thought he'd fall at any moment.

Once he manages to catch up, they reach the door. Wearing her pink mittens, she knocks a few times. Mortimer didn't think the half-giant gets many visitors, so it was likely he'd be expecting guests. Given by Hagrid's surprised expression as he opens the door, he did not envision Mortimer. "Miss Lovegood! An' . . ." He made his weary behavior known. "Mr. Black." He acknowledges in a respectful manner.

Though, Mortimer wasn't sure how to approach the man. Luna came for support. "Oh! Don't worry Hagrid." Patting her friend in the shoulder, she assures the half-giant. "Mortimer is quite pleasant to be around. A little grumpy, but still, friendly. He won't try and get you fired."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mortimer huffs at her defense.

Still iffy about the young Black, Hagrid invites them in. "Right' well... why don' the two of ye come in - Get outta' the cold, I've made hot coco, I know it's yeh're favorite, Miss Lovegood."

"Yes, I really do enjoy a good cup. My mother use to make it daily in the winter season. Father tries sometimes, though sadly, it's not the same. How about you, Mortimer? Any good winter memories?"

"I remember being very cold." Mortimer grumbled, shivering.

"Ere' take this, lad." Sticking his hand out, Hagrid offer's him a warm round cup. "Jus' made in time too."

Mortimer was reluctant, nonetheless took the cup. He studies it for a few seconds before taking a small sip. taken aback from the warm taste. "It's good. Thanks."

Another cup was given to Luna, taking a long sip, Mortimer could see a small chocolate mustache above her lip. "Of course it is!" She exclaims. "Hagrid wouldn't poison you. I'd be worried if one of the ravenclaw's did, or gryffindor. . ." Raising her eyebrow, she studies the ceiling. "anyone really..."

Her comforting words, Mortimer blinks dully. "Thank you."

"Most welcomed." She smiles. Turning she nearly hops all the way to a long, shabby, worn out couch where a dog the size of two small children laid. The animal was probably familiar with the girl, instantly barking, he licks and shoves his nose over Luna's head. "Good boy, Fang." Petting and rubbing his back, her smile only grows. "Come Mortimer, meet Fang."

While Hagrid watches the two students playing with his old boy, he grabs his own cup, taking a big chug. "Those that he ain't afraid of', enjoys the company. Yes- had this ol' boy since am mere pup. A funny story really..." Stopping himself, he rubbed his bearded chin, nervous he asks. "Would the two of ye' liked to ere' it?"

Beaming, Luna nods most enthusiastically while Mortimer responds politely. "We'd love to."

For an hour, Hagrid would entertain them about the time he threw a stick and how Fang had bolted right down a hill. It was an important moment because at the time, Fang had remained nameless. It was there that he met a student that would assist him in given the boarhound his known name. The unraveling adventures when - the said same student, dressed Fang as a wizard and sneakily brought him into St. Mungo's for a visit after Hagrid had suffer an injury.

The few laughs that were shared amongst each other, Mortimer felt guilt for the damage Draco had caused. He was man minding his own business, and caring for the forest creatures, he didn't deserve the ridicule among his house.

As the time went, Luna would doze off, along with Fang, they were nestled in couch. It was safe to say that the couch was ten times smaller, not enough room for two students and giant dog. Luna's head resting on his shoulders, Mortimer was uncomfortable when the boarhound's legs went limp on top of his thighs. No doubt, the dog weighed more than him, making his lower body go numb. Yet, Mortimer didn't want to disturb their small slumber.

"Fang mus' really like yeh." Hagrid said quietly to avoid waking them up.

"You think?" Mortimer wondered, staring at the large dog.

"I sure do." He replied, sitting back into his large rocking chair. "Fang don' usually be restin' on jus anybody, not on strangers, at least."

Lowering his eyes, the dark furry mutt snored and twitched every now and then, causing Mortimer to chuckle in response. "Guess that makes me special, doesn't it?"

A nervous laugh, Hagrid takes an anxious sip of his mug. "So, You an' Miss Lovegood friends?"

"You could say that." Mortimer answers. Quite careful with his wording, he didn't want to appear as hypocritical. "It's complicated."

Oh! Don' have to tell me abou'it." Hagrid smiled. "I know all abou' yeh," Nodding, he gets rid of an itch that was coming from his temple. "Bein' a Black an' a Malfoy, can't be easy, I reckon'."

"You're not anger with me?" Surprised, Mortimer was slightly caught off guard. He was use to the spiteful nature of other's, he always assumed everybody he came into contact would instantly hate him.

"Not at all!" He chortled. "I will admit, I am a tad nervous aroun' yeh. But Dumbledore tol' me you mean no arm' - An' Fang really seems to trus't yeh well enough."

A short streak of silence, it gave Mortimer time to reflect.

Frowning, Mortimer openly said. "I'm sorry." Shaking his head. "For what Draco did. . ."

Listening to his apology, he was touched at the gesture. "No need." Waving his enormous hand. "Am' sure he didn -"

"No really." Mortimer interrupts. "Don't make excuses for him. It was an accident, and he didn't need to provoke the hippogriff like that. Because of him, you..." he hesitates. "You could lose your job, it's not fair."

"It'll work out..." Hagrid's remained adamant; his positive thinking increased Mortimer's own worries. "I'll prove he's 'armless - you'll see. When I do, there'd be no need to rid of anyone."

"Right. . ."

Laughing, Hagrid set his mug down. "Ah, well, look at the time. The two of yeh, should be headin' out. Am' sure the others will be expectin' your return."

"Actually, they don't know I'm here. No one does." Tilting his head, Mortimer shifts his legs to get some blood flowing from the crushing canine.

"I see." Nodding, he understood. "You normally don' see slytherin's comin'in for a cup of tea. Now, do yeh?"

"Nope." He agrees.

As bad as he felt, Mortimer had to wake up Luna and get rid of the heavy hound.

Yawning, Luna stretches her arms. "How awful of me. I seemed to have dozed off. What time is it?"

"Time for us to leave." Mortimer answers as he helps Luna up from the couch. Fang, lets out a small huff, clearly upset that he his sleep was disturbed.

"Thank you, Hagrid for the lovely cup." Luna said. Petting Fang one last time, she puts on her fluffy hat. "And thank you Fang for letting me snooze on you."

Rocking in his chair, the giant waved. "Oh, anytime! Please, stop any times' yah feel like, both of you."

With that in mind, the two left Hagrid's little hut. By the time, they left, the sky was already dark. "I hope we didn't miss dinner." Luna spoke beside him.

"Doubt it." Mortimer assured. "We weren't there for too long and I'm sure Draco would've sent for a search party."

"That was kind of you." Luna smiled as she walked alongside him, she folded her hands together.

"What is?"

"Apologizing on behalf of Draco." Her eyes staring forward, she remarks. "I know it isn't you who should be telling him. But the small, wonderful fact that someone from your house can be capable of remorse and hold sympathy. I think it's really brave."

Gripping his hands, Mortimer wasn't certain what to think about her words. There was a speck of satisfaction when hearing her praise, but something inside him told him that this was nothing to be proud of. He wasn't supposed to show such weakness, nor show any kind of mercy for those lesser than him. He was better than that.

Clearing his throat, he cocks his head, apruptly flashed with sudden surprise. Wherever this new voice was coming from, it was quickly making Mortimer feel the strong singe of unpleasantness.

"You don't mean that." He contests, kicking the snow as a mean to distract himself.

"I most certainly do." Luna retorts, bobbing her head, the wind blew her hair back, causing her hat to fall.

Turning over, Mortimer runs to from behind, picking up her colorful headdress. Bending down, a small, still eerie growl emerges from a distance. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Pacing a few steps, observing the turf from her spot.

Everything around them was motionless, as time had stopped. Although Mortimer alarms went off, there were likely eyes following him from the woods.

Oblivious, Luna pulled out a chewy piece of candy from her coat and popped it into her mouth. "I forgot I had this in here." She pipped. "Where were we? Oh, yes, the noise you heard."

Mortimer could faintly hear ragged panting, slowly he shifts to stare out. At this point, he could hardly see a damn thing with sun away. All that remained was patches of dark wooded corners and harsh blowing winds. Oh! Wait, movement. Somewhere at the end of his vision, there appeared to be something stealthy moving around a batch of snow-covered bush twigs. It could be anything. Maybe he really was just hearing things. "Nothing. It was probably the wind."

"Or perhaps," Tapping her chin lightly, she releases a half-gasp. "It was Atelocynus microtis!" She yells, raising her hands in the air. "No, that doesn't sound right. . . they mostly live out in different parts of South America."

Without commenting further, Mortimer returns her hat. Keeping an eye out, he has his wand ready, in case anything should run out of blue and start attacking.

Thankfully, nothing else happened during their small walk and have managed to reach the entrance hall. They were just in time as all the students began gathering around, walking towards in the direction of the great hall. "Thanks again, Mortimer."

"Oh sure..." He said in surprised tone. "Anytime."

Luna giggled at his nervousness. "Don't worry so much, Mortimer. Everything will work out in the end."

She says finally before turning and running back to her common room. Mortimer was still wearing his heavy jacket andby the time he reached his own dorm. Everyone else seemed to have gone down for dinner. In all honesty, he wasn't at all hungry. Instead of going back to the great hall, he decides to throw himself on top of his bed.

Luna's words playing in the back of his head. Mostly just the two words, remorse and sympathy. Words like those are one's that should be avoided. Why? It's what made people weak. Holding these kinds of emotions prevented anyone from reaching their full potential and accomplishing one's goals. If he is to make his mark, he needs to rid himself from these shackles.

"Why am I thinking like this?"

Crawling out of the collar of his sweater, Tobey flicks his tongue out. "Thinking like what?"

"Nothing." Mumbling under his breath.

"Are you talking to yourself again, Master."

"Shut up."

Clenching his hands, there was a moment of confusion. Maybe he was too caught up in his own worries that he was starting to create nonsense out from nothing. There were more important things he should be concerned about. Like how he was going to capture Black.

"Tobey..."

At his call, Tobey slithers further out, poking his entire head out. "Master?"

"I have prey I need captured." He spoke quietly.

"Who?"

"I'm not sure." Mortimer answers, shifting his body to lay on his side. "I feel like I'm being followed..."

"I will search the grounds and attack -"

"No." He stops, closing his eyes, he tries thinking further. "You will stay behind."

"Never."

"That is an order. I have questions. I think my attacker has the answers. But I can't get to them if he's dead. I need to get close enough. Once I'm done, you can come out. For now, keep a look out and wait for my signal."

"But Master..." The dark creature, sounding quite upset, debates by saying. "How do you know the enemy will not simply kill you?"

As he laid there, Mortimer contemplates before responding. "I have a feeling he is just as curious as I. He too may want answers. I'm better off alive than dead until I give them what they want."

Crawling out of his shirt, Tobey makes his way to stand firm on his master's chest. "A terrible idea."

Laying on his back again, he says out loud."Terrible or not, you are not to attack until I say so, do you understand?"

Pausing for a second, his tail suddenly smacks against his chest, Tobey answers. "No."

"Good." Mortimer expected his answer. The snake might've responded in defiance, but regardless of feelings, Mortimer knew Tobey will still obey.

Slowly, his plan was slowly coming together. A little modification here and there, it will soon be perfect. Perfect enough to execute once he has Sirius in his sights. The important thing is patience. Patience and understanding were the components he'll need to succeed the small ongoing quest. Baring adversity in calmness, he won't be reckless, not this time. He's had a lot to think these past few weeks and coming to the realization that every piece was vital, something as serious as capturing a murderer required a certain amount of planning and major guts. Mortimer just hope Potter doesn't intervene. From their little chat, it sounded as though Harry was thinking the same thing. A little competition never hurt anyone, should Potter succeed then there'd be no need for him to continue. Have Potter do the dirty work and rid of Black.

But should the worse happen, and Harry makes the mistake of hesitating, then Mortimer will be there to finish it off. Who says Gryffindor and Slytherin can't work together?

---

Weeks have gone by, and Draco was happy as can be. Slytherin winning against Ravenclaw in the quidditch match, putting them in first place. Meaning should Gryffindor win the next match, slytherin will go head-to-head with the rival house.

Just as the smile appeared on the blond's face, it was quickly wiped away when Potter showed up the next morning. Him, along with his gryffindor mates, flaunted Harry's new firebolt broom. It shinned and gleamed as the team exhibited it off during breakfast inside the great hall.

"I can't believe it." Draco snarled; hands clenched together he glared at Potter.

"Leave it alone." Mortimer instructs, bread at hand, he chews on it and ignores Draco's sharp stare.

"He's making us look bad." He argues, watching as a small crowd gathering around in awe, admiring the craftmanships.

A sigh, "You'll make yourself look bad if you approach him now." he pronounces. "Save it for the quidditch match, let him take this one and move on."

"Mortimer's calling the shots now?"

Out of nowhere, Mortimer swirls his head to find Theo. Frankly, he couldn't be bothered with. "I'm merely advising him. Whether he takes my advice, or not, that's up to him."

"Woah," Rasing his hands in surrender. "What's gotten into you?"

"Assignments mostly... I've spent the last week staying up all night just trying to catch up. I still haven't even finished my assignment for Muggle Studies." Putting his hands over his head, Theo gave him a pity look.

"Ah, then I guess it's a bad time to tell you about Runes, right?"

His eyes nearly popping out of his head, Mortimer glooms at the spot. "Runes? What about Runes?"

"We were supposed to use cloths to write runes... that way it wouldn't get dirty when bounding them in rune casting."

A loud bang echoes across the great hall. Heads turning, they could see Mortimer's beaten head as he faceplants on top of the table. No words could describe the over stressing position he was in.

Somewhere out there felt for the slytherin as a random student approaches him. Draco and Theo watch in silence, as another nameless student proceeded to take off their robe before placing it over Mortimer's body as way to hide the loss of face.

"Our sympathies." Said a passing Hufflepuff.

"Wish you the very best of luck mate..." Shouted a seventh year Ravenclaw.

"Sucks to be you." A solemn Warrington would later say.

"Oh, Morty..." Lavender walking gleefully towards him. "Will a kiss make it better?"

At that point, Mortimer had disappeared entirely, leaving no trail that he was ever in the room.

---

"I'll bring you a few snacks while, I'm gone." Draco said, his goons waiting right behind him.

Nodding, Mortimer simply stood there. A witness to everyone leaving the castle. Another Hogsmeade trip and they practically run out the doors. With Draco now gone. Mortimer waits a few minutes, there in the middle of the entrance hall, he was surprised to see Granger returning. Running as she carried a rather ugly looking cat that reminds him of an old grumpy man, but with more hair.

She must've not noticed him, the upsetting cast on her face told him she was probably not in speaking terms with her friends. "Granger?"

She stops and turns, seeming to be holding back small tears. When she becomes unresponsive, he asks. "Is everything okay?"

A sniff, she nods. "I-I - Everything's fine." Trying to sound convincing, he wasn't easily swayed.

Feeling quite bold in his assumption, he takes a few steps in her direction. "Trouble among the trio?"

The cat meowing in her hands, she frowns, sounding frustrated. "I'm only trying to look out for them! And they treat me as if I'm the one after them. Being the responsible one shouldn't make me a bad guy... I am not a prude! I don't want them to get in anymore trouble, does that make me a bad person?"

"No."

"Try telling that to them!" Hermione gestures her head, at the same time, the cat she was holding began to fidget. She shakes her head, "The broomstick... Hogsmeade!" begins to mumble out her words in frustration. "Crookshanks didn't eat his rat. I know it's hard to believe but I know he didn't, I just know it."

"Crookshanks?" Raising a brow, he slopes his head slightly.

"My Kneazle-cat - Well, half- kneazle - Doesn't matter. The point is, he didn't do it."

"Ah~" Nodding, the weird looking animal stares off into the distance. "You do know cats eat rats, right?"

"I know that!" She exclaims but remained persistent. "I-I, Crookshanks didn't do it and they don't believe me, they're supposed to be my friends."

"Maybe you need better friends..."

"What? Like you?"

Mortimer almost laughs. "No, not me." He answers. "I mean someone other than those two lots. Your way too smart to be hanging around them, if anything I think they only use you to solve their little problems."

"Th-They wouldn't." She whispers, her cat meowing in the process.

"Take that as you will." Mortimer folds his arms and turns to walk back. "Just know once they need you, they'll come back crawling and you - like a good girl - will accept their apology."

At this, Crookshanks starts to make hissing noises. A threat that didn't go unnoticed, Tobey chooses to come out from under the collar of Mortimer's turtleneck sweater, he too starts hissing.

Jumping back, Hermione holds her pet close. "Get that thing away from us!"

A small smile appears. Surrendering, he takes several steps away. "Sorry. Tobey tends to be overprotective."

Pointing, she knits her brows. "You should keep it in a cage. Someone could get seriously hurt." Grimacing, she glares at the dark reptile that continued to show it combed teeth.

Pursing his lips, Mortimer peers at his own little critter, responding. "Or eaten."

Stunned, she her tone becomes low with blight. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Casually, he peers over his shoulder, and shrugged. "I mean, I should be more concerned whether or not your little lynx will pounce on a defenseless critter."

"He wouldn't do that!"

"It went after your best friend's rat, why wouldn't it come after mine? Cats love to hunt."

"You don't know anything about Crookshanks." Hermione relates aggressively, hugging her cat, she continued to defend. "That thing shouldn't even be on school grounds. How are you allowed?"

A confident smile, he folds his arms. "I told you; Dumbledore gave me permission."

Denial, she refused to believe such a claim. "The headmaster doesn't give special permissions, not to anyone, especially a death eater's son!"

This was most unexpected, yeah sure, this was something he anticipated from Weasley, or ever Potter. But Granger? He was caught of guard, which quickly turns sour.

Rotating his neck causes Granger to step back, as if she expected him to start pouncing. He instead takes a deep breath. Clearing his throat, he looks away. "Right.. See you around, Granger."

As Mortimer begins to leave, Hermione doesn't stop him. Rather, stays in her spot, speechless as she held the grumpy meowing cat.

---

Trying to get rid of the memory of what transpired hours before, Mortimer was slowly preparing himself. Reading his charms textbook, he reads and studies the various spell. While he was tempted to ask Professor Snape for permission to take out a book out of the restricted section, he knew questions would be asked. His answers would be met by instant rejection. And there wasn't a hint of doubt that the Potion Master would in turn, run up to tell Dumbledore. Mortimer didn't want to draw too much attention. Reduced to using the only allowed book, he was looking for the best method to capture Sirius Black.

By chance, he found what he was looking for.

Being Slytherin meant being associated with serpents, serpents who were affiliated with the element of water. It was rather fitting that he'd chose this as his weapon of choice.

Pacing in the middle of an empty classroom, Tobey watches his Master practicing with the strange stick in his hand. Twisting his neck ever so often while swirling his shoulders. Until he swiftly starts waving it around, at the same time, he'd yell out strange words. Tobey could never understand the purpose at which humans of this world would forge through mere sticks. But one thing Tobey will ever be grateful for, will be the language of magic they emit.

"Aguamenti!"

It was the very reason why he was overjoyed to be able to communicate with his Master. "Careful Master."

"I know." Mortimer huffs coolly. Gripping his wand tightly, he breathes in heavily. "I just need to keep going. It needs to be perfect."

"It is."

"Not good enough." Rubbing his temple, Mortimer walked over to the training dummy. He managed to sneak it out while Professor Flitwick was busy chasing out the Weasley twins from out the hallways, very appropriate too. He thought using the water making spell, will be better when going against Black. He was tired seeing fire, an associatation, despite being useful, reminded him of certain times he wished could be forgotten.

Inspecting the dummy, he barely made a mark on the wooded thing. "Too weak." He mutters to himself.

Walking back towards the end of the room, Mortimer stretches his arms, his eyes remained on the dummy. Counting to three, he points and shouts out. "Aguamenti!"

Exactly when the words left his lips, icy blue jets blast right out of his wand. Shooting rapidly against the mannequin. It must've been a powerful one considering it was thrown against the wall.

Staring a dummy, he studied it for a bit. The more he stared, a thought begins to merge in his head.

He wanted to try something different, for once.

If his Latin was any good, and his pronunciation was not at all bad, then perhaps he'd be able to... "Aqua Percutiens!"

A harsh wiping sound, Mortimer nearly tripped back in shock. "Woah..."

Curious, he quickly adjusts the testing dummy, setting it in the middle of the room, he braces himself and repeats. "Aqua Percutiens!"

A very loud snap, the water whips back the doll back aggressively.

Replicating the same spell a few more times, Mortimer was satisfied with the results. Of course, this was merely practice, the real thing will be different. The kind of damage it will do to living target, he'll find out when the time comes.

"Wonderful master."

"A few practice rounds, perhaps..." Rubbing his chin, he couldn't take his eyes away from the damaged mannequin. There were large scrape marks spread across, most around the chest area. There was worry at the potential of harm it will cause. He didn't want his target completely dead, just enough to get answers from him. And he wouldn't get a single word if Black was too busy dying from injury.

Just then, Tobey lets out a harsh hiss.

Snapping his head back, Mortimer asks. "What's wrong?"

"We're being watched!"

Being hit with panic, his eyes widened. "Who?"

"Right there in the corner." The reptile yells, sizzling through his throat, he extends his sharp teeth.

Just as he turns his head, Mortimer lets out an annoyed breath. "A rat? You're getting riled up over a rat?"

Strange, it kind of looks like Weasley's old rat he was always carrying. "It isn't real." Tobey alerts rather roughly.

"Stop saying that. I can see it right over there." With Tobey's exaggerated sizzling noise, Mortimer rolled his eyes. "Fine, go... fetch."

At his order, Tobey attacks at an instant. The frightened rat lets out a squeak when it too began to run away. Watching them go, Mortimer didn't think much about it and instead went back to practicing. The Standard Book of Spell, Grade three, explained that there was possible variant when casting each spell. He thought perhaps, if he used a simple spell but created a different movement, then maybe the results will distinct themselves from the rest.

Rather than using the smooth wave movement from right to left, Mortimer rotates his hand gently, muttering "Aguamenti."

At first there was nothing, but the more he concentrated, the more he could slowly see water forming from the tip of his wand. Grinning in awe, the developing water spins, morphing into a spherical shape.

Continuing the motion for another minute, until he chooses to stop entirely. It was a start, nonetheless, was pleased with today's practice. A few more sessions and he thinks he'll have it down to perfection. It was exciting to say the least, the rush he felt when the spell knocked back practice dummy. It looked like it hurt, had it been a real person, they would've been knocked unconscious; he believed. Regardless, he thought maybe he should tell Draco about the plan. What stopped him from doing so was knowing he wouldn't agree with his decision. Putting himself in the midst of danger, Draco will never allow it, thinking Mortimer has very well lost his mind.

Maybe I have. He felt different since conquering his boggart, definitely for the better. Time continues to go on and he remained vigilant in his surroundings, walking at every corner, he made sure he wasn't followed or disturbed. After finishing his assignment he'd always run up towards the seventh floor, finding an abandoned classroom where'd he remain until dinner..

Thankfully today was the day Draco and the others decided to head out for Hogsmeade. It gave Mortimer time to really think about his plans, he does it better when he's alone.

Having practiced enough, Mortimer puts his wand away. A long breath and he decides to sit on the unswept floor. Patting away any debris, he folds his legs together, and closes his eyes. Breathing in and out, he counts to twenty, meditating with every huff of air, he thought it best to work on his occlumency.

He wasn't sure how much time was spent in this position, only that he gradually found himself in a forest.

---

He was near a river, that much he knew. For every step he took, the crunching noises of breaking twigs made his presence known to whoever resided here. Bit by bit, Mortimer's eyes widened at the spot. For a sickening, dark made up road of dead carcasses aligned a pathway for him to follow. Nothing but chewed up deer's, badly slashed bears... Wolves and boars were just one of the animals he could identify.

What in the world... Who could've done of this? Who was capable of taking on these known ferocious predators. Surely, a human wasn't responsible, there was no way. He refused to believe any moral man would harm the forest creature.

And then he stops.

A growl.

The rumbling sound causes him to look back. He was being observed. But it wasn't a man that was looking at him, it was a large beast, eyes deep in hunger, it lets out another growl. Mortimer could feel its anger, it's rage for abandonment and thirst for blood as he stared menacingly at Mortimer. Almost like it was surprised that Mortimer was here. But it made no sense, this was all just a dream. Everything around him was simply a manifestation of his subconscious.

It had to be.

The said beast itself appeared to him as large dark bear. Its fur appearing wet, yet something told Mortimer it wasn't water dripping from its jaws. A closer look, Mortimer could see the dark blood seeping down from the side of its sharp teeth.

A dream, this has to be a dream, he tells himself.

The same couldn't be said as the unknown beast roars before shuffling its sharp nailed paws, it runs straight at him.

But Mortimer doesn't run, he doesn't react at all. He was curious to know where this was going and rather than run like a coward, he stands straight, watching the grizzly bear sprinting its four legs running at him. Once it was close enough, the gigantic bear leaps and shouts out. "You are all going to pay!"

---

Expelling a sharp breath, Mortimer sat there in silence. It was dead quiet and no one else appeared to have heard him. Swallowing hard, he wipes the brow of his forehead to realize he was dowsed in his own sweat. Understanding none of it, he was at a loss, no words could describe how real it felt.

He had to rub his eyes to make sure he was really back.

And then a knock, coming from the other side of the door.

Why would they knock? Supposedly, no one else was supposed to be up here and he hadn't told anyone where he'd be.

When the knocking continued, Mortimer quickly got up, patting himself down as he approached the door.

"Luna? Ginny?" Looking around to see if any else was around, he asks. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We should be asking you the same." Ginny retorts. "I thought you said you were tired and didn't want to leave the common room."

"I changed my mind - How did you know I was here?"

Ginny points with her eyes, directing them towards Luna. Smiling, she hid something behind her back, he nearly jumps back when she shoves Tobey in his. "I found him."

"Where?"

"Running down the fifth floor, he looked like he was chasing something." Ginny explained. "And there's only one person in this school that owns such a snake..."

Right. Luna adds by saying. "I asked him to take us to you, and he did!" She makes a small hop.

Despite Tobey not catching the suppose danger, Mortimer was not at all disappointed. Just on the off chance the fat little vermin did belong to Weasley, he didn't want to be responsible for his rat being dinner. Guess the damage was done. Extending his arm, Tobey slips away from the ravenclaw, returning back to his Master. As the two girls spoke, he could hear Tobey's penitent apology. "I nearly had them! Your humans retrained me before I could strike - Worry not Master, I will -"

Tobey didn't get to finish as Mortimer settled upon covering the snake's microscopic mouth. "Right. . . Well thank you, Luna."

Excited, Luna beams and starts hopping in place. "Does that mean we can hang out now?"

They're not your real friends. Hermione's words ringing in the back of his head. A death eater's son. That's what he is, what they see. Are Ginny and Luna any different?

Pressing his lips together, he was puzzled. "Why would you?"

Ginny no longer smiling, was confounded. "What do you mean, why? We're friends."

His skepticism proceeding to win over him, lacking in self-control he spurts out. "Are we?"

Luna was just as confused as Ginny, tilting her head. "You're upset."

Gripping the doorknob, Mortimer didn't notice his knuckles had gone white. "You do realize I'm the son of a death eater, right?"

Both Ginny and Luna share a look before replying together. "Yes."

Genuine bafflement quickly spread among his pale face. He didn't appreciate being lied to. "And that doesn't bother you? Any of you?"

"No." Luna asks softly, her eyes sparkling with empathy. "Why? Do you plan on hunting down muggleborns and subjugate half-bloods into doing your bidding while the purebloods cower in fear as you lay back in your grand, golden and frilly throne?"

Ginny agreeing with her friend, nods. "Already planning to rule the world when you haven't even taken your O.W.L's?"

Directing his eyes away, he mutters. "Don't make fun of me."

"Then you shouldn't say such silly things." Luna retorts, expression came across as grumpy when her forehead puckers. "You're our friend."

"Did something happen?" Ginny asks before she frowns in puzzlement. "Was it Ron?"

Shaking his head, there was no point in discussing the very reason he was bothered. "Forget I said anything."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ginny asks, leaning closer, she whispers in his ear, worried her eyes widened. "Your eyes are red."

Stepping back, he turns his back on them. This can't be happening again. Furiously, he shuts them and rubs them angrily to the point they start hurting. He hears his name being called but ignores it. Too focused with trying to get rid of the repulsion oozing down on his spine. He dumbfounded and worried. He was a stranger to his own body; it made him sick. At the worse time, in front of Ginny and Luna too... Why was it even happening now?

"Mortimer?"

"Let's just go." He grunts, blinking rapidly.

"Go where?"

"Go hunt whatever creature Luna feels like hunting today." He sighed in defeat, opting to keep his eyes low.

Nodding her head vigorously, she was pleased to hear his compliance. "My quest for finding fuggleflies has been quite the struggle. We'll cover more ground if we all go together."

"In the freezing cold?" Ginny uttered, already shivering from the thought of going outside. "We'd freeze to death!"

"That's what they want you to think." Luna squints her eyes in reflection before a sly grin spread across her face. "Which is why it's so perfect, they'll never expect a group coming out in surprise."

Safe to say, they wouldn't catch anything. Instead, Luna had spent the last hour or so dragging Ginny and Mortimer through the terrains of high heaping blankets of brutal snow. There was no fuggleflies, no yarraweevils, no bobbybeetles of the sort. For the part, Mortimer kept to himself, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. He knew what Ginny was thinking, the many questions she's conjured up, was thankful when she didn't bring it up again.

Regardless, the strange velvet color faded with time and once they headed back inside the entrance hall, Ginny and Mortimer had been covered in frozen sleet snowdrift, you could barely tell it was them.

Not a moment soon, everyone else had decided to show up, with their brought products in hand from the Hogsmeade trip. At the sight of the appearing students Luna had hopped off, hopeful she will one day capture the rabble-rousing critters. Ginny could spot Ron a mile away and had left before he could start mouthing Mortimer. Just like his friends, had powdered off the remaining snow, leaving him somewhat wet.

Waiting for Draco, he turns quiet as his cousin approaches him. Looking different, it wasn't until he noticed the blond was covered in mud, more specifically, his glowered face.

"What happened to you?" Mortimer dared question.

Pausing for a minute, he grits his teeth faintly. "Potter." Pure venom and sheer hatred, Draco brushes pass him, making his way down to the dungeons.

Seeing the anger, Mortimer felt no need to press any buttons and alternatively follows, settling quietly into the night.

---

Walking Draco to his next class, Care for Magical Creatures, Mortimer tasked himself in accompanying him because he couldn't be bothered to show up early for Muggle Studies. Though, seeing Crabbe and Goyle not far behind, he didn't think his presence was needed.

Draco was still rather chafed after what happened back in Hogsmeade. While Mortimer didn't know much of the details, Draco had insisted that Potter had somehow managed to sneak out of the school and head right into the village, with the help of Weasley no doubt. The lack of consequences had Draco fuming to the rim at the unfairness. So far, Mortimer has kept him from making a fool of himself, staying clear of the trio. Mainly due to Granger comments. There was strain among the untitled friendship. With her refusing to acknowledge it, and him not wanting making things any worse. Mortimer was starting to believe it was not worth the trouble. They were all the same and therefor, should stay clear from them.

As they walked outside the school grounds, Mortimer could see the hut from the distance. The half-giant was engaged with Potter and his friends, they didn't note the small group of slytherin's coming from behind. "Is that oaf crying?" Draco said in disbelief.

The answer came in a form of a handkerchief that was taken out by Hagrid. Confirming the worse news in regard to the hippogriff. Watching Hagrid breaking down, he runs back into his cabin.

Watching in humor and perplexity, starts laughing at the sight. "Look at him blubber!"

His loud chortling brings the attention of the sour faced trio. "Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic as this?" Elbowing Mortimer, he sought to distance himself, only to be dragged back by Draco. "And he's supposed to be our teacher."

A sigh, he doesn't know why he bothers. Rather, shakes his head in disapproval.

Mortimer didn't need be psychic to know where this was going. Watching Potter and Weasley march right up, it wasn't them he was afraid of. It was the furious look of Granger that got Mortimer acting quick.

Her intention's made clear; her hand raises to strike Draco in the face, almost making contact.

Almost was the key word. Just before she could Mortimer shifts his own hand to grab her own. Stunned, Draco staggers back just as Potter and Weasley stood, shocked at what they saw.

Hermione gasps in surprise. Grabbing her hand harshly, Mortimer's tight grip doesn't immediately release hers when she yells. "Let me go!"

Ignoring her order, his voice becomes quiet. "You don't get to touch him." Mortimer calmy says, his eyes were dark with threatening promises as his posture remains composed.

The opposite of what Granger had felt, her anger increases at the denial. Eyes glaring at Draco for a short moment. "How dare you call Hagrid pathetic!" Still trying to tug away her hand. "You foul - evil" She seethes, going back to Mortimer. "Let go of me."

Soon, the tip of wand is instantly aimed right betweenhis eyes. "Let her go!" Weasley barking his order was recieved in hostility once Draco decides to take out his own wand.

Thing were starting to get ugly. Both Crabbe and Goyle noticed and didn't want to get caught in a cross fire, suffled back letting everyone else have a go at each other. Potter continued to glare but didn't draw out his wand, yells. "Stop it!"

Mortimer wasn't sure who he was shouting it out to. Regardless, he alone had the power to end it. And so, finally lets go of her hand. But not before he could warn all of them. "Stay away from us and keep your hands to yourself, Granger."

"Not so tough now, are you Granger." Draco nearly laughs at her flushed face, tears reaching the corner of her eyes.

Ron and Harry stared at them in lively rage, he could feel a burn between his sockets. "Shut up." Mortimer grits. "Let them wallow and move on."

Walking away, he knew they were still being watched. Though, it didn't matter, Draco was left unharmed, and no further escalation was made.

"You shouldn't provoke them." Mortimer comments quietly.

"They had it coming." Draco scoff, rolling his eyes. "Can you believe Granger actually tried to strike me? Me! Someone far superior and -"

Not this speech again... "Will you stop it already? I've heard it a bajillion times already, it's getting old."

Draco sought to correct him. "Bajillion isn't actually a number."

"Who cares?" He scowls, continuing to walk the grounds. "I only meant that," Cracking his neck. "Why do you feel the need to make things worse? You got what you wanted, didn't you? There's no point in pushing the knife even further."

Draco didn't appear to be worried, like he didn't care that his actions had any meaning to anyone. For him, it was a walk in the park. "What are you on about? What I wanted? This what everyone wanted! The big oaf has no right to be teaching a bunch of students. Look at him, he's practically nonfunctional - Crying in front of everyone? Where's the dignity in that? It's an embarrassment."

Unbeknownst to Draco, the gibberish he was spitting out was getting to him. Trying to find reasons only made Mortimer feel frustrated. There isn't anything to excuse, Draco was being seen as villain, shamefully, Mortimer was starting to agree with them. "I should get going." He announces, wanting to leave before he could say more.

Draco was again, oblivious to the whole thing. "Alright but meet me after classes end. I'll be practicing at the quidditch pitch, and I could use a cheerleader."

"Isn't Parkinson enough for you?"

Musing over the idea, he responds. "One more wouldn't hurt."

Rolling his eyes, Mortimer changed his direction of pace and left to go back inside, preparing himself for a long day.

---

And just like Draco had demanded, Mortimer found himself sitting on the crowd bench. Beside him was, probably Draco's only fan, Pansy. While Pansy cheered and encouraged the blond as he swirled through the air, Mortimer was trying not to let the air blow his homework away.

"How can you work on Runes on a time like this?" Parkinson disgruntled under the wind.

You make it easy. Though, kept his eyes on his text, letting her chat till her hearts content. "Draco works so hard and it never seems to be enough for everyone else." She began.

He stops writing, holding the quill in his hand. "Hm?"

"Everything he does is to impress his friends, his father, you..."

"Me?" Mortimer snort and goes back to writing. "Why on earth would he feel the need to impress me?" Impress his friends, yes. Dad? Obvious. But him? "I'm not that important."

"To him, you are." Pansy abruptly shouts. "He doesn't have any siblings, and you're probably the closest thing to having a brother. He thinks he's a nuisance anytime he comes to you, and I don't think you appreciate him enough."

"What are you on about?" Mortimer contests, spotting Draco as flies up and dives down. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Mortimer couldn't understand why she felt passionate over something so small. "Just because you're here, doesn't mean you're here, here." Staring at Draco in an affectionate manner; it makes causes him to wrinkle his nose in revulsion.

After the boggart incident, Draco didn't act differently. He was the same self-entitled brat Mortimer's come to know. And that was good, there was no reason to change. He didn't want things to be different. He didn't want to be taken cared of or treated any other way. Knowing this, it was hard to defend someone who was clearly guilty, and Draco's lack of remorse, he deserved every once of bad luck.

For this, Mortimer felt guilty for nearly agree with the crowd regarding Draco's nasty behavior. He was no saint himself, though, he hardly ever sought any trouble.

He really should be more supportive of him.

"You have a point. . . maybe." Setting his quill down, he closes his book. There was a small glint in eyes when he made eye contact with Draco. He seemed proud of the preformance he couldn't help but wave at the two.

Pnasy waving back, more giddy and cheerful, Mortimer offers a thumbs up, encouraging Draco to keep going.

And so he does, for another hour Mortimer would watch in amazement as Draco flew above the air. Catching the practice snitch with speed and percision, the slytherin team and its house mates were in high spirits towards the end; they might actually win against those good for nothing gryffindor's.

Climbing down the stairs, Mortimer and Parkinson met with Draco. He was speaking to Warrington and Flint about strategies and the perfect way to approach the other players.

When they notice Mortimer coming down, they walk to him. "Keep this one safe Black." Said Marcus, "We'll need him in top shape for the finals if we're to win the qudditch cup." patting Draco on the back as he laughs.

Draco's blushing reaction at the apprasial had Mortimer smirking. "Aye aye captin'."

"See ya round Black, Malfoy..." Flint bids goodbye walking back to the locker rooms with Warrington joining him. "bring everything you got, I am not losing to Wood or anyone else, got it?"

A firm nod, Draco and the rest of the team became serious, steming from their determination.

"Great job out there." Acclaimed, Mortimer when Pansy came up to agree. "You did wonderful Draco." She cooed.

"Thanks." The blush returning to attack Draco's cheeks, he clears his throat. "Warrington thinks we're going to win. I agree."

"Well of course we're going to win!" Pansy jumps. It was obvious to her as she states. "They have the best seeker on the team."

Mortimer was inclined to agree. Using his best impersonation of a sports announcer. "I can hear it now, 'Slytherin wins! Score one-fifty to zero. Snitch captured by none other than slytherin's finest, Draco Malfoy. Ouch! Potter seemed to have fallen of his broom. As an added bonus we get to see Gryffindor go to a nearby corner to bawl their eyes out. What a win indeed!'"

Sharing a laugh, Draco enjoyed the idea. "Save the speech after we win."

High spirits indeed, the smile never leaves their faces.

---

"Oh, Morty~"

The quill in his hand froze, darting his eyes upwards, he nearly fell out of his seat. "What do you want Brown?"

"I have to tell you something." Placing a soft finger on his parchment, "Something important." gently stroking the top desk, she ignores his sickened expression.

"Brown, I swear if you start chasing me again..."

"I was just in Divination and couldn't help but notice twhat the crystal ball was showing me. . ." Her eyes wandering and her smile only grew as she went on, speaking softly to add the thrill she was feeling. "At first, I couldn't decide what it was, it was blurry - Until!" She slams her hands on the table, causing Mortimer to stumble back in his seat. "Professor Trelawney said, 'Out of darkness, one will shine through. He will be your one, your deliverance to a fulfilling life of happiness!' Can you believe it! It means, we're going to be together!"

Recoiling back, the horror in his eyes as Lavender hugs herself, he was ready to make a break for it. "I knew it! I just knew it! Isn't that wonderful!" She lets out a troubling gasp. "I have to write to my parents! I have to tell them about their new son in law. Oh Morty! It's going to be grand. You and me, together." Sighing dreamily, her hands come together. "I can picture it now -"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Mortimer coughs, his brows crease. "Divination is joke, everyone knows that. Anyone who believes a cheap glass ball can predict the outcome of the future is just as dumb as the person teaching it. Fortune cookies do a better job than Trelawney! Even I could do it. And no part of the universe does it say that we will ever, ever! Be together - I'd rather be with the giant squid outside of the lake than having to hold your hand for five seconds. That is how much I loathe you Brown. Get that through your fat skull."

There was a moment of silence when her face turns blank. It was hard to tell what she was feeling for her annoying smile was wiped entirely. At some point, Mortimer actually thought Lavender might start crying. Until, "Did you just me fat?" her eyes dark and her hair becomes frizzled.

"What?" He shouts, his voice echoes through the once quiet library. It will only be a matter of time before Madam Pince came to kick them out. "Out of everything I just said, that's what you take away?"

Snarling in pure rage, she grits. "How dare you call me fat!"

Before Mortimer could even form a response, his lights were instantly turned off. Letting out a groan, he loses consciousness.

---

Sitting down next to his friend, waiting from Charm's class to start. "What happened to you?" Theo puzzled over the black eye on Mortimer's face.

A long breath, "Nothing." he answers.

Chuckling, he could only guess. "Girl problems?"

Quiet for a minute, he replies. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Shouldn't you go to the hospital wing?"

"No. Drop it."

Theo didn't of course and states. "You know she's going to tell everyone, right?"

Placing his face down towards his desk, his voice was mumbling underneath, still Theo could hear him say. "Yes."

"Alright children, today we'll be using the cheering charm..."

"Wonderful," Theo said jokingly. "you could really use some."

"I am so ready for this day to be over with." Mortimer sighed heavily.

Throughout the entire class, Mortimer would remain grumpy and unhappy with the day's outcome. Theo was all smiles and laughter, along with the rest of the students, it annoyed him as Nott placed his arm over his shoulder. "Cheer up, Mortimer! Don't let a girl get you down! I'm sure you could win her back if you put in a little more effort."

How he wished the day would just end, as the soreness from his right began twitching.

"Mortimer?"

Turning over, he didn't know what to expect, finding Potter standing before him. "Oh, look it's Potter!" Theo cheered. "Isn't that grand, too bad Draco isn't here. I'm sure we could add more to the party."

"Well, the party is over." Mortimer's tone serious, there no room for debate. "Get lost Theo and tell Draco I'll meet him at the common room."

"Whatever you say, Boss." Theo laughs once again, his words tickling him "I would never think of calling you that - I really am cheered to the brim, this spell does such wonders..." Talking to himself all the way to the corridor, Mortimer and Harry wait for Theo to leave the scene.

Once they were sure, Potter stood up as he were stunned. It took Mortimer a second to realize it was his discolored face. Like everyone else in the school, Potter stared at the swollen oddly shaped eye. "Hey, what happened to your face?"

An empty, dull fixated look and Mortimer responded in a pre-written answer he came up with not too long ago. "I got in fist fight with a group of goblins."

Harry had crossed his arms, at the same time let out a scoff to express the lack of sureness in his voice. "Yeah right," Shaking his head. "This is serious - It wasn't Hermione, was it?"

"You think she'd come after me?"

"N-No... Not really. But I wouldn't be surprised if she did. She hasn't been acting like herself lately... I think it's all the classes she's been taking. She told me what happened between you two." He said truthfully.

"And I assume you're here to defend her honor?"

"What? No! That's not what I'm here for." He lowers his voice. "It's about Hagrid. Did you know? Did you know Malfoy would try and get him sacked?"

Frowning, Mortimer didn't want to say only because he thought anything he'd say would be used against him. "I had an idea... but I didn't think he'd actually go through with it. I'm sure your friend will find another job."

"The thing is, it's not Hagrid they're getting rid of." Vexed and rather peeved, he shakes his head, going on. "It's Buckbeak, Lucius is having him executed. They're going to kill him because of Draco!"

"I am not responsible for him." Mortimer nearly springs out in frustration. "And anyway, what can I do? It's not like I'm the one who made the call."

"I came to you because I thought you could help. Ron and Hermione don't think it's a good idea, but I at least wanted to try. You're more reasonable than the other Malfoy's - Maybe you could talk to or convince them to put off the execution. It's not Buckbeak's fault..."

The creature had a name. Odd. Naming things was never a good idea, you'd get too attached. Anyways, Mortimer could see the desperation forming in his face. He likes it, the power and confidence made for a great ego booster. Mortimer doesn't know what part of his brain felt that way, only that it made him feel good about himself. As selfish as it was, he wanted to see more of Potter groveling down. "And what do I get in return?"

"What?"

"What you're asking is big. I would have to send out a letter to Uncle, persuade him into wasting time again, calling back the board and revote on the case. And know, it's not easy to convince a stubborn man like him. Draco, near impossible... So tell me, what do I get in return?"

"Forget it." Potter grits out, starting to walk away in his upset mood. "I should've listened to them..."

Rolling his eyes, Mortimer couldn't help but smile at the twisted expression Harry conveyed through disappointment. The wallowing, Mortimer felt a sense of satisfaction. The idiot deserved it for thinking he could get away with it, that Mortimer would simply bend down and do his will like the rest of his gryffindor lackies.

Mortimer was better than that. His father was better than that. He deserved better. . .

Where on earth did that come from? Rubbing the left side of his temple, Mortimer was hit with a flash of confusion. Aren't I supposed to hate him.? Y-Yeah! It didn't make sense to him as to why he suddenly started thinking about him. Going as far as caring. He shouldn't be feeling anything, aside from hatred and contempt. Tom was a scummy guy who should stay in ground, the bad guy that didn't deserve to win. No reason at all. Recalling the number of reasons why he hated Tom, his attention went back to Potter, who continued to walk away.

"Wait." Mortimer called out. "I-I'll ask."

His attention caught in the middle of corridor; Harry swerves his neck. "You will?" Sounding in disbelief, he faces him. "Really?"

Sharing his own disbelief, he couldn't believe he just agreed to help Potter. As opposed using his mouth to respond, he nods. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

"That's all I ask." Harry said quickly. "Thank you."

Seeing Potter go, Mortimer decides not to worry about it and went back to finish of the rest of his classes.

Later in the day, he was distracted enough not to notice the other students. They stared at him as if he was a dangerous animal that was left loose, perhaps it was the swollen eye he refused to tend, or maybe it was the abnormal color exhibiting from its pupils.

Throughout the day, he would remain oblivious. Yet, it became apparent once the students around him backed away with such fear and enmity, you'd think they were staring at the Dark Lord himself.

It was just about time for dinner when he ran into Ginny. Ginny, knowing all too well about his undisclosed condition, immediately ran in his direction. The redhead's panic and hasty behavior took him back as she grabbed him by the wrist. Dragging the puzzled boy throughout the first floor, he wondered what the problem was. The back of his mind, he worried more about the people watching the pair, part of him feared they'd start up rumors, causing the attention to focus on him again. He hates the prying and the fakeness, the last thing he need right now was for students to start thinking they were running of to some broom closet for a quick snog. He was sure the clan of Weasley's would kill him.

"Where are we going?" He shouts, trying to talk some sense into her.

Unsuccessfully so, she grips his wrist even tighter. Nearing the end of the corner, she swiftly turns and starts scanning the empty halls, certain there wasn't anyone here, she lets out a breath in relief.

"What's going on?" Mortimer grills, bothered by the sudden intrusion of his personal space. "Why'd you drag me all the way here?"

Biting her lip, her sights darted at the disturbing, frightening color that reminded her of the stories she'd hear, the monsters that lurked around dark corners and lived to threaten the lives of the innocent. Mortimer didn't look right, he didn't look normal, it scared her. Thankfully, she was a gryffindor, no matter how scared or nervous she might be, she knows that this isn't the monster who haunted her dreams, this was her friend.

He wouldn't hurt me. . .

"Ginny?" Mortimer spoke, his tone was soft. "You're starting to freak me out. What's wrong?"

Rubbing her arm, she peers away. "You're eyes, they're back."

A slack jaw, he backs away. "They are?"

Nodding firmly, she holds her hands close, watching helplessly as he curses out loud, covering his face in shame. "Why? Why is this happening to me? Can I please have a normal day for once - Live a single day without something going wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

His racing pulse, Mortimer couldn't look at her, he didn't think he could face anyone at this point. "Nothing! This was supposed to be a normal year..." His shoulders slump in defeat. "How do I get rid of them? Should I just scoop them out? Should I blind myself and hope to grow a new set?" Pacing in a circle, he bites his index finger. "I can't go out there looking like this! What am I going to do?" A gasp. "What am I going to tell my aunt!" Another gasp, this time it was louder. "What am I going to tell Draco! Shit! I haven't told him about my dreams..."

"I don't think those are dream." Ginny answered honestly, while she did have her own theories, it blatant clear that Mortimer had none. "Have you thought that maybe what you're seeing is the real thing."

"Meaning?"

"Your father was able to put a piece of his soul into that ugly looking thing." She recoils, hugging herself as she shivers. "And he was a skilled Legilimens, wasn't he? Maybe he's somehow able to talk to you through some weird mind power trick... If only you could use Occlumency, that might help."

"It doesn't help. Because as soon as I close my eyes, I can almost feel the intrusion. It's like giving him the key to opening the door. It can't be pushed out."

Stunned at what she's heard, she tilts her hat. "You're an Occlumens?"

"Makes no difference." Flickering them downwards, he hated to see what became of his face. "What am I supposed to do? I can't go out looking like this. I won't last a week."

It was silent. Cooped up in their thoughts, they tried coming up with a solution. But a problem such as this, couldn't be solved by two inexperienced children. And as much as it pained Mortimer to hear, Ginny seemed to have been thinking the same thing. "You have to tell Dumbledore."

"No."

"Mortimer -"

"I don't trust him." Trying to give a reason, he says. "Tobey doesn't trust him either... he's hiding something."

"You don't know that " Ginny defended. "He's the most powerful wizard that's ever lived. If anyone can help, it's him."

"I'll only be proving him right." Fearing what the old man might think of him, Mortimer wanted to hide. "You don't understand. . . He knows me more than I know myself. And if he sees me looking like a freak, he's going to see Him instead of me."

Mortimer's worries aligned with hers. The confession had Ginny second guess her answer. Uncertain about the relationship he had with the headmaster, from his description, it appeared to be a tense one. He didn't trust Dumbledore. Which was crazy! The greatest wizard of all time? Untrustworthy? It didn't sound right. Dumbledore was a hero, a great man seen by everyone. Her parents would tell her tales about the amazing feats he's done over the years. Amazing as it was, it wasn't compared to her favorite story being about how Harry saved the wizarding world. Though, Mortimer didn't need to know that... Aside from the small detail, she didn't understand the concern. She doubts he'd do anything to him.

Holding her ground, she looks at him directly in the eyes. "Dumbledore's the only one who can help. I know you're worried. And if you can't trust him, trust me when I say, he won't think differently." She continues by placing a warm hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to tell him everything, just enough to satisfy him. The idea is to get rid of. . . whatever is happening to you. I can walk you there, I'll even wait. Just so you won't have to be alone."

Pondering, he felt uneasy at the whole idea. He's kept it hidden for so long, his pride didn't want to give in. How smug Dumbledore face will turn when he sees Mortimer crawling to him. Begging to help him as Mortimer was incapable, too weak to resolve his own problems that he now has to rely on the old man.

I don't need him.

Unbeknownst to Ginny, Mortimer didn't want to give in to Dumbledore's desires. He knows the old man is just dying to see inside his mind. The kind of things Mortimer had thought about on a daily basis, the unspoken history of his past and the morbid images running rampant as he slept through the night. It made him feel ill just thinking about it.

His back straightened, muscles becoming severely tense that Tobey had to come out just to make sure his master was alright. Hating the way Ginny was staring, it was a silent plea to get him to do what she wants, and he dislikes the effect it was having on him. "Fine."

---

Mortimer was a little put-out as he headed to the west tower. Already cleared out when he arrived, although he supposed he didn't have much of a choice. This was the very thing he wished he didn't have to do. Dreading with every footstep, it took a lot of will not to run in the other direction. It also didn't help that Ginny was essentially carrying him all the way, preventing him from escaping. It was a smart move considering if he had gone alone, he was sure he'd be in a different place right about now, most likely his dorm. Where he'd sleep it off and avoid the problem all together. He wondered what Dumbledore might say, what he'd think when he sees Tom and not Mortimer. It will encourage the old man not to trust him further as Mortimer carried the eyes of evil, or so he thinks.

With that in mind, they drew near as they ascended inside the gargoyle's corridor.

"Cheer up, Mortimer." Ginny's motivation attempt did nothing for him but listened. "Dumbledore will fix this, and when he does, you'll go back to being your grumpy old self."

Looking over Ginny's shoulders, apparently only alerted to the presence of the guarding gargoyle, did he realize they were here. "I don't think I can go through it." He choked out, locking eyes with the redhead. "It's not too late, we can go back and come up with something else. We don't really need him."

Ginny held up a hand, shaking her head and firmly focuses on his changing feature. "You can't back out now, I won't let you." A long pause passed while Mortimer gaped at her.

Eventually, his face crumpled, and she couldn't help letting out a snort. "Quit being a baby. Dumbledore is a great wizard, he can help. So, stop fussing, get in there and tell him what you think he should know."

"What about you?"

"Like I said, I'll wait for you here."

Dumbledore must've expected this. As Ginny and Mortimer stood in the middle of the corridor, the statue turned before they could say anything else. Without a password to be said, the old man was inviting Mortimer to join him as the statue offered him the staircase that would lead him to the headmaster's office. "See? Told you he knows too much." Muttered Mortimer.

"Shh..." Ginny silences, offering him a supportive smile, she pushes him at the front. "Go, he's waiting for you."

Devoid of a response, his body goes pilot mode and before he knew it, his feet began to move upwards the pile of stairs. Reaching the top, Mortimer was immediately approached by the sound of the cheery old man who never failed to annoy him. "Mortimer, my boy, what a pleasant surprise." His voice coming from the right side of the room, he was standing near the window, watching the trickling piece of snow for into a small blanket.

"Stop it." Crushing whatever wall Dumbledore was building, Mortimer had no desire to fake his way into the subject he was avoiding. "You knew I'd be coming."

Mortimer couldn't see Dumbledore as his back was turned from him. "Now, where would you get that idea from? I am the headmaster. Afterall, it's important I keep my doors open for anyone, should they need an ear. Or merely, wish to stop by and say 'Hello'." He chuckled, rotating his body, the old man decides to show his face. "I must confess, while I didn't think you'd come here today, I left my doors open just in case you had second thoughts. I know it isn't easy discussing certain subjects, but I thought you'd at least appreciate the gesture."

Dumbledore has yet to see Mortimer's face, kept hidden, he lowered his gaze as he didn't want to show him just yet. "I do, thank you."

Mortimer might not be able to see the old man's expression but could tell by his cheery voice, he was smiling. "Now, what brings you here today?"

His eyes remained on the ground, nonetheless, decided to take a few steps forward. "I thought you could help me with something."

"Ah..." He hummed in response. "and what that might be, exactly?"

"A little of this, a little of that. . ." Mortimer laughs softly, concealing his face. "Nothing out of the usual."

Dumbledore notes his shyness and insists, he asked. "Why so reserved? You can tell me, my dear boy. I'm here to help."

Shrugging, he closes his eyes for a bit, cracking his neck in the process. "I was hoping you'd say that. . ."

Waiting quietly, it wasn't until Mortimer fully opens his eyes that Dumbledore saw the severity of his problems. No longer was he smiling, and his once jaunty demeanor has all but vanished completely. It was without any form of emotion that Mortimer swore the old man had cursed under his breath.

"Come." In a whispery tone, Dumbledore instructs Mortimer to take a seat right in front.

Doing as he says his voice was all business. "When did this happen?"

Mortimer had prepared himself for this discussion and had answers at the ready. "Some time in the afternoon..." He was lying but Dumbledore didn't need to know that. "Ginny Weasley noticed it, and told me..."

"Miss Weasley?" Sounding rather worried he questions deeper. "Have you mentioned anything to her?"

"Nothing that she already knows, no." Mortimer answers. Which was true. Witnessing firsthand in the chamber of secrets, she was very much aware about the connection between father and son. "If you're worried she'll tell anyone, I promise, she won't."

"Yes," He seemed to agree. "You two have become friends in the upcoming year, have you not?"

"We have. But I didn't come here to talk about the people I hang out with. I came here for help. So... will you help me?"

"I will do my best." Walking towards him, the old man had bended down on his level to inspect his deep crimson eyes. "Does this have something to do with your lack of performance?"

His eyes widened at the mention. Though, he doesn't know why he's surprised. "Professor Snape told you, didn't he?"

"Of course." Mortimer's facial features turn cold. The least Dumbledore could do was pretend to care. "I gave him clear instructions to inform me your whereabouts. Since you are determined to turn every corner when coming to face, I thought I'd take matters into my own hands."

"If you knew then why didn't you say something?"

"What would you have me do? Force it out you?" He slants his head in a considerate manner. "I'm not sure what your depiction of my character entails, but I assure you, I am not one to use force against another being."

Peering his eyes towards other distractions, Mortimer doesn't offer a challenge against his words. He nearly felt shame for having gotten caught, he didn't try to deny it. That's because it was true. The portrait the old man has painted for himself was smeared with the dirt of deceitfulness and guise. Of course, public opinion often finds themselves unable to see it, all except Mortimer. For part of him believed Dumbledore to be no different than his own father. The difference, Dumbledore hid the motives of suppose self-righteous divinity. Ideals that appeased the public eyes of wizards, a popular kind of guy no one will ever see Dumbledore in a bad light. Yes, no one dared to question a wizard powerful enough to take on the Dark Lord. It almost made him sick how corrupt a person can turn into. What bothered Mortimer was how far was Dumbledore willing to go for the suppose 'greater good.'

Pulled out of his thoughts, Mortimer hears the old man's query. "Have you done anything unusual over these past few weeks?"

Blinking, he chuckles in disbelief. Has he seen the world they're living in? A strange question, he sneers. "I'm a wizard...everything I do is unusual."

"True. What I mean, have you done anything that could've triggered it somehow."

Sitting back on the chair, Mortimer pondered the possibility if perhaps he had been cursed, drank any strange potions, or wore any trinkets that could've possibly held dark magic. When nothing came to mind, he was visibly vexed, as told by his scarlet eyes, he nearly growls out in anger. "No. I don't know anything. I haven't done anything! I don't understand why this is happening. Is it me? Am I the problem?" He sighs, Mortimer rubs the back of his neck. "Please tell me I'm going through some weird form of puberty and that this is all in my head." To his disappointment, Dumbledore gives no further comment, leaving Mortimer crushed. "For once, I'd like to have a normal life."

"Unfortunately, 'normal' doesn't apply to us." Smiling sadly, Dumbledore knew his words would have idly results on the distressed boy. "What I can do for you, is get rid of the issue. Mind you - It won't solve the problem, but it will give you enough air to breath."

Clearing his throat, Dumbledore withdrew his wand, hiding underneath his sleeve, before pointing it directly at his face. "Hold still."

A bright light flashed under his nose. And then, it was gone. Mortimer wasn't sure what the old man had did, but as soon as he regained vision, he had immediately jumped out of his seat and ran straight in search of a mirror. A medium sized, nicely perched on the left side of the room, he swiftly made way towards it. Upon inspection, he instantly laughs, and inspects himself even further. Appearing 'normal' he couldn't take his eyes off his own reflection.

"Is it to your satisfaction?" Hearing Dumbledore's question, Mortimer take his eyes away.

Still, there was relief in his response. "Yes. Thank you."

A few minutes pass when the silence kicks in, knowing this Mortimer composes himself.

Quid pro quo, he guessed.

Speaking in a quiet tone, Mortimer rubs his clammy hands together while continuing to stare at the mirror. "I've been having strange dreams... Well not really dreams," Shaking his head, he proceeds. "More like. . .visions? I suppose - Anyways, It's always the same one."

"Describe it to me." Penitently waiting, he walks from behind, going towards his desk.

"It always starts in a forest." He mumbles nervously. "It feels like I'm looking through the eyes of someone else." Shutting his eyes and clenching his sweaty hands together, he breaths. "The thing is, the person I'm following doesn't appear to be human at all. More like an animal." Speaking of which, he quickly asks. "Is Tom an Animagus? If so, it would explain the shape..." Going back to the description. "I can actually feel its emotions to the point that it's started making me feel the same way."

Without interruption, Mortimer remains cool even as Dumbledore's gaze deepen from the reflection. "Rage. That's all there is. Angry and bloodthirsty, it starts chasing animals and. . ." Describing it out loud, he hadn't realized his tone had become shaky. "killing them. Pretending they were enemies. Before it starts chasing another and so on, that's usually when I wake up." Finishing, he swallows hard. He always hated that part, not knowing whether or not it was a dream, vision, or that he was simply going stright bonkers.

It mattered not as Dumbledore gestured the boy to follow. Leading Mortimer near the fireplace, where the two calmly sat in leisure. The old man offers him a warm cup of tea, which was gladly taken. For a few moments, they neither say nor looked at one another. Entertained by the enchanted dance the fire provided, they let the warmth consume them. Manifesting in several thoughts, and then none, Mortimer played back the frightening images of the frightened animals who fled for their lives, not understanding what they were facing.

Carefully, Dumbledore looks down, responding in soothing tone. "To my knowledge, Tom has never showed signs that he was able to cast an animagus form - But I wouldn't put it pass him..." Inquiring another question, he scratches his temple. "How are your occlumency skills faring these days?"

Taking a sip, he mutters. "Average. If I concentrate enough, I can block most of it. Eventually, though, it manages to slip inside and before I know it, I'm back watching the same thing over and over again. I don't understand any of it. Do you?"

Inspecting the tea, Dumbledore wonders as he takes a small drink. "No." He answers with distinct honesty. "As talented as Tom is, your father never thought about the consequences it would have on one's health when indulging the dark arts. It is no wonder why he was left so weak after his encounter with Potter. Never seeming to understand his defeat was caused by a power so strong, so valorous, it's left him lost. No gateway, no vent to release the angering whiff of his own fragile soul, it is no wonder why he is angered very so." Another slow sip, he observes the hypnotic flames. "I fear he may be growing stronger."

"Ginny thinks he's trying to communicate with me." Mortimer said quietly. "What do you think?"

Pursing his lips, Dumbledore sets his cup down near a small table. "Powerful, he may be, but I don't think that's possible. I don't know many who'd be capable of such a feat. If I may suggest. . ."

Gripping the cup, his body become tense. Suggestion, he says, Mortimer knew very well what the old man wanted to put forward in consideration. "With your permission of course, see for myself as to the extent of your dream."

Just like that, Mortimer had very little to say. Expecting as much, Dumbledore would do anything just get a glimpse of his mind. What thoughts he'd find, and if they align with those of his own father. "You want to see what's inside?"

"The dream? Yes - You worry whether I will start probing into different territorial subjects? Fear not my dear boy, I am merely curious about your vision."

If he was trying to calm any nerves Mortimer might be having, he was failing miserably. It succeeded in making him feel even worse. He could always say no... But what if there was a possibility Dumbledore will believe him. He wasn't going crazy; his dream isn't a dream but something more. Something far worse. In case, if anything he was seeing was in fact very much real. Where was the harm in letting the old man take a gander. Maybe then, he'll know what to do.

Pressing his lips in thin line, Mortimer can already feel the regret pouring over. "Fine."

He wasn't given enough to fully prepare as the old man came face to face with him, telling him to clear his head and focus on the vision. "Take a deep breath, Mortimer and prepare yourself."

Doing as he instructed, he take a few huffs of air. At Dumbledore's signal, Mortimer instantly feels the disgusting intrusion of another being slipping past his mind. Things become muddy for a while as he slowly loses himself in the memory.

Dark, quiet and tense, the air becomes unbearable, one couldn't possibly breath due to the fear. Any noise, sound, or vibration could instantly bring out the unknown terror hiding behind the forest greens. No animal or human will dare to step foot in this area. Increasingly aware of the peril following from behind. They begin moving south in hopes of escaping. Loud frighting roar echoing throughout land, it was no longer safe. The monster that terrorized the precious woods were now being destroyed by a wrathful force, leaving only corpses of gnawed and lambasted critters who weren't so lucky. A thump! Following another, it approaches a dark and muddy swamp. Feeling its throat dry, it reaches down for a drink, despite the terrible taste it brought the monster much needed refreshments. After a few licks, the creature pauses for a moment, studying its own features. And for the first time he is able to see his own reflection, not as Mortimer, but as the figure he had been seeing was looking through. A large dark scruffy grizzly bear, huffing violently and deadly, it's beat red eyes radiating from the water, he growls in anger.

Hearing its very own thoughts, someone needed to pay. Needed to suffer just as this figure was suffering. They were all going to pay dearly for leaving him, forgetting him, him of all people. No matter, sooner or later, he'd regain strength and when he does, those who doubted him will compensate, ten times and more. This, he vowed most definitely.

A short gasp, Mortimer shuts his eyes, covering them with the palm of his heated hands. "Happy?" He snarled. "Satisfied?"

Dumbledore didn't say anything as he steps back. Not noticing his features had turned cold, almost as if he was worried, trying not show it. "I will have Professor Snape bring you a calming draught. I will do a little bit of research and get back to you. For now, I ask you keep your head low and meditate daily. I can't fix your eyes, but I managed to conceal them with a quick color changing charm - Should you find yourself staring back at the eyes of the cursed, then this simple charm will do the trick. Let no one see, be careful."

Chugging down the last drop of his tea, Mortimer sets it down. Loudly, the cup clanked against the other tableware. Defiled, he rises from the couch, turning to face the stoic face "You're hiding things."

Not a care, it infuriates him more when Dumbledore admits. "I am."

"You don't trust me." He stated as if it were fact.

"I do. Still... I figured I spare you from further burdens." Pacing towards his desk, "You are still a child, and as such, deserve to enjoy it, without worry." he sits and reclines back.

"The idea is gone." Mortimer retorts in a calming voice. "I don't think it ever existed, truthfully."

"All the more reason to enjoy these moments." Chuckling, Dumbledore lowered his gaze, rummaging inside the desk cabinets. "Try not to fret, we'll figure this out."

It was a sign of dismissal and yet, Mortimer was having a hard time leaving. He didn't want to go, he still had questions. He wants to press the issue with Black and whether the old man had made any progress in capturing him. Did he know why he might've gone after Mortimer? Or Potter? Was there a connection between the two?

It was all too confusing and trying to process it only seemed to hurt his head.

Turning over, Mortimer kept his questions to himself. Aware he'd get no answers, not from him, Mortimer pardons himself. Leaving, he could still feel the headmaster's gaze. The same questionable and puzzled expression tarried at the old man's wrinkled, bearded face. And like Mortimer, he too appeared confused, worried, if anything. Unhindered in silence, his footsteps leading down the stairs case, Ginny jumps at the sight.

Approaching him hurriedly, she exhales in solace. "He did it!" Cheering she leans in closer to get a better look.

Impassive towards Weasley's reaction, he couldn't take his mind off the monstrous glare of those dark, bitter crimson eyes. "He did." A short reply, he goes in depth by telling her. "Well actually. . . more like hid it. I still have them, just concealed it with a colour changing charm."

"He couldn't fix them?"

Shaking his head, Mortimer can hear the disappointment in her voice. "He's just as lost - Said, he'd do some 'research'. Honestly, i'm only happy to know they can't see it. The less they know, the better for me."

While she wasn't entirely convinced, however, she trusted her friend's judgement. "What now? What did he say about the visions?"

Lowering his brows, he starts walking down the gargoyle corridor. "What I expected, he doesn't believe me. He thinks Tom's too weak to even try it. It makes sense, don't you think? If Potter could take him on as a baby, then what's to say, he could telepathically talk to me from miles and miles away?"

Trailing at his pace, Ginny's eyes narrow at the retort. "But he isn't entirely sure, right? You seem to think he's alive, that would mean he's lived through two deaths already! So why is it so hard to believe that he couldn't talk to you in your sleep?"

Cracking his neck, they continue walking straight, eyeing the moving portraits. "Let's suppose you're right... What then? Why do you think he's trying to talk to me now when he could've very much have done that in the beginning?"

Without hesitation, it seemed as though she had been thinking about this for quite some time. "Maybe he wasn't as strong. He's probably already found a way to come back but is waiting for the right moment to."

"What do you think he wants?" Curious to hear her answer.

Chewing her lip, she gets nervous. "Have you thought that maybe. . . he wants you to come find him?" She starts whispering, lowering her eyes as to not see the grim expression on Mortimer's face. "Help him get his back to awful self?"

Ginny was right to look away, Mortimer was clenching his jaw, his movements were jerky when they turned the left. There was no remark on his part, as somewhere deep inside Mortimer believed this was true. The man was able to surpass death and even then, the sign of his presence never left him.

"You should tell Harry." Ginny abruptly said, her body jumping in exigency. "He knows more about your father better than anyone in the school."

Rolling his eyes, Mortimer snorts loud enough to get the attention of some of the paintings. "As if I'd ever come to Potter and ask him for help."

"You know, you almost sound like Malfoy when you start talking like that." Cocking her head, she puckers her forehead together. "I thought you didn't care for rivalries?"

Mortimer's voice becomes deep, coming to his own defense. "I don't. Just him - Always has to meddle in other people's business. Do you know how many times I've caught him trying to listen on me and Draco?" A frustrating huff of air. "Your own brother thinks i'm trying to recruit you and Granger, well we're not exactly buddy-buddy as of now. If I show just a tint of friendliness, they'll automatically assume I'm up to something."

"It wouldn't hurt to ask." Ginny retorts.

It would most certainly would. Mortimer says inside. Their trip was short, and in those few minutes, the two stayed quiet. Stricken with their own assessments, Mortimer was having a hard time getting comfortable with the situation while Ginny searched for ways to help her friend.

Passing several closed doors, they made a final right turn, walking straight until they reach the great hall.

Speaking hushly, Ginny watches the collective of students gathering in their tables before going back towards Mortimer. "Think about it."

Nodding, they separate, both going to their own seats. Mortimer heads up the middle of the slytherin table where Draco had saved him a seat near him and Theo. Crabbe and Goyle sat across from the two boys. Both Daphne and Tracey weren't very far off as they could be seen giggling when Zabini waved at them, flashing a flirtatious smile.

Rubbing the back of his head, Mortimer joins them, slumping right down next to his cousin. Once food was served, Mortimer barely touches his plate. He wasn't very hungry and instead shifts the questionable thoughts in his head. He wonders whether he was safe from Tom's penetrating attack against his mind.

If his father truly is capable of talking to him through some strange form of Legilimency, what would that mean for him? Was he doomed? Or was there a way to kick him out? He didn't like the idea of someone else being inside him. It felt wrong and near gross as Mortimer strongly believed a body should never be shared. His thoughts should be his own and no one else.

Occlumency or not, Mortimer will have to concentrate better if he wants to block out the endless voices that told him to be angry, to hate and get revenge on those who wronged him.

"Everything alright there?" A faint but still audible question came to his ear.

Studying his plate, Mortimer takes a few seconds to respond. Arguing with himself if he should tell Draco, mainly worried about his reaction and the slight chance he might start freaking out once he sees the change in Mortimer's eyes. There was no guarantee Draco won't run straight to the owlery, then again, there was always a risk involved when telling him any problems he might be facing.

Pursing his lips, the more he thinks about it, the worry only grew in Draco's features. "I have something to show you, later." Answering, Mortimer kept his gaze on his barely touched food.

Leaning inward, Draco's pressed his lips as he suppressed his eagerness towards Mortimer's statement. Wondering what he wanted to show him, he goes back to meal and tries to brush it off by talking to Theo.

Unseen by the others, Mortimer was getting that strange feeling of being watched. It was always the same, and familiar annoying little ticks that seem to be constantly dropping by. Potter, he grips his hands, and lifts up his head to see his predication come into play. Potter was undoubtedly watching him as Granger leaned in closer to whisper something in his ear. Unlike them, Mortimer didn't care enough to give them a reaction and instead attempted to eat, at least put something in his stomach. Though, it was hard considering every now and then, he'd drift off somewhere undefinable.

There had to be connection between his dreams and Black's escape. It almost seemed too convenient, having these odd dreams, the same time Sirius Black decides to bail out of prison. Maybe he was after him in order to free his master, it was a new thought, one that shocked Mortimer. Still, it was impossible, how would getting to him achieve Black's goal? And where does Potter fit into all this? Most of the attacks were targeted against the boy-who-lived and no one else. So where does he come in? Is he some remarkable sacrifice? A groan, Mortimer hates overthinking things. Why should there be a motive to anything Black does, maybe he really was just some crazy guy doing equally crazy things.

No matter, Mortimer would continue to train and hope Sirius comes back soon. He'd very much like to pay him back for the encounter. He'd like to think he was generous type, so he'll make sure he returns the gesture, tenfold, of course.