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.

52. Chapter 52

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"This way Mortimer!" His cloak and scarf tightly wrapped around him; his hair windswept. Brown leaves swirled around his feet and the breeze was bitterly cold. These were just a few signs that winter was right around the corner.

The leaves crunch beneath his feet as Mortimer and Draco strolled through the captivating village of Hogsmeade. The sweet-smelling aroma of pumpkin spice fills the air, taking in the sights around him.

Taking his first steps in the village, Draco turns to him and suggests that they continue to walk through the village and stopping at Honeydukes. Mortimer nods in agreement, the opportunity to satisfy his sweet tooth and going inside every shop, it was certainly going to be quite the trip.

They approach the storefront, and Mortimer immediately feels the excitement swelling up inside him. The sweet shop was covered by endless brightly colored candy jars, the smell of sugar was in the air. His eyes widen more at the sheer variety of treats that were on display.

Mortimer eagerly heads towards the chocolate section, inspecting the different types of bars and fudge treats with a brightening eye. Draco follows behind, pausing to admire the overly large lollipops, each having different flavors.

After a few moments of browsing, Mortimer turns to Draco with a soft smile. "I've never seen so many sweets in my life - This will surely put anyone you in a coma."

"I'd say." Draco agrees. "Chocolate frog?" He suggests by pointing to a shelf filled with the popular wizarding treats.

Nodding again, he smiles and the two of them walk their way to the shelf and continued to examine the many brands. After much debate, Mortimer settles on a few boxes of fudge flies, jelly slugs and a bag of fizzing whizzbees.

As Mortimer pays for the candy, he takes a moment to observe the interior. He almost felt as though he was child again, wandering at the vast sweets. Draco meanwhile strikes up a conversation with Blaise, who is happy to oblige and tell Draco about some of the beauxbatons girls he's been chatting with.

Mortimer listens briefly before returning to collect his sweets, he bought a few extras for the younger years in his house; hoping they'd like it.

As they leave shop, his hands were filled when he takes a deep breath of the crisp air, admiring the deep shades of orange and yellow coloring of the sky as the sun continues to set below. Honeydukes fades behind them when they travel down. Passing several shops that was abuzz with people - locals and students - the gust of winds carried voices and cheerful hollers, bringing the little village to life.

Mortimer's pupils grew a little wider whenever a shopkeeper tries to sell him on the latest wizarding products. Like an enchanted straight razor that will shave him in seconds! However, feeling his own chin, he wasn't quite there yet. Draco skillfully maneuvered him around the gathered crowds of gossiping witches and wizards and did his best not to get lost.

Shoving a chocolate frog in his mouth, Mortimer feels a sense of contentment, savoring the taste.

For once he was happy to get lost in the simple pleasures.

This was his first trip, and it was beyond what he had expected. Everything and everyone moved with such energy, joy quickly washes over you, it was easy to forget your worries and simply enjoy the sights.

The three of them walk down the wading path, "Where should we go next?" Mortimer asks, swallowing the lump in his throat by all the chocolate.

"We could check out Spintwitches? Or would you prefer Zonko's?" Draco responds, turning to look at him with an exciting expression.

Mortimer frowns briefly as Draco continued to wear his Potter Stinks badge. He and everyone else in the school thought it'd be a good idea to continue to mock the gryffindor.

"Or," Blaise said. "We could forget about all that and head to the Three Broomsticks pub over there." Pointing farther down the street to a pub that was now visible.

"Wouldn't it be too crowded?" Draco's head gave a tilt when he asks.

"When isn't it?" Blaise snorts out and peers at Mortimer, who too busy tossing a piece of taffy in his mouth. "What do you say Black? Fancy a trip there? Bet the girls are just dying to see you." He snickers.

Going back to the two, he was not at all amused by Zabini. "Not as much as you are to see them." He'd retort with a bitter smile.

The rumor of Zabini and his many escapades of girls he's collected had extended far longer than the letters of the alphabet. It was no secret the Italian enjoyed the company of others, and few were able to resist him. Blaise changes between girls more than Mortimer has changing his socks, it was that crazy how Blaise is able to woo and sweet talk his way into getting their attention.

"What can I say?" Blaise flashing his pearly white teeth, says. "I'm the giving type."

"Of course, you are." Mortimer said, glancing up to see Zabini's smug face. "Always the generous type." His sarcastic tone was noted. Remembering the girls running out the halls in tears from their broken hearts. "A true gentleman for the ages."

Zabini was about ready to respond when Draco stops to face the two. "I say we go in." Dismissing their words. "After that we can go where Mortimer wants to go."

"That's fine with me." Blaise sways his hand.

Mortimer tossed another frog in his mouth. "After you, Zabini."

Going inside the Three Broomsticks, Mortimer's eyes wander in every direction. It was crowded, filled to the brim with students. Talking and laughing at the tables set all around the pub.

"Woah." Mortimer couldn't help but let out a whistle in amazement.

Draco smiled as his childlike responses as he led them through the tavern. "What do you think so far? Like it?"

"It's great!" Mortimer shouts, hoping his voice was loud enough for him to hear, on account there were many voices flying across the room.

With the room being so crowded, they were somehow able to find a booth for the three of them, near the side of the room.

"Is it always this busy?" Mortimer asks, sliding at the end of the booth, plopping down his weighty bag filled with candy.

"On the weekends, mostly." Draco answers.

"It's a good thing too." Absent from the table, Blaise notices a few beauxbatons sitting at the far left of the pub. His sights had been set. "It leaves you with more options - If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go introduce myself to a lovely selection of beauties who've yet to meet me."

Watching Blaise leave was a feast for his eyes. The boy could hardly go for one minute without mentioning himself.

My mother says I just about inherited all her good features. I agree.

Did you know I was recently told by Megan Jones and Leanne Humfrey that I have the loveliest eyes?

Linderina Crane and nearly half the girls in our year had asked me to write them over the summer. Don't they know I need my beauty rest?

Can you believe Sally Sunkiss asked me if I'd be interested going with her to Hogsmeade, alone. Too bad, I'm already meeting with Padma, Alice, Sophie, Emma and Lisa - I'm practically booked!

Yup, a sight for sore eyes.

"I'll go get us some butterbeer. Will you be alright alone?" Draco's question takes him away from his mind.

Nodding, Mortimer reaches into his bag and digs out another sweet. What's a fudge fly taste like? He wonders if it actually does contain the flavor of said bug. Then again, what does a fly taste like? "I'll be here." Waving him off, he was too preoccupied with his own questions to notice him leave.

A sudden rush of elate mingled with content, and he felt as though nothing could ruin the pleasant moment he was having. Only thing that was missing now was his friends. Speaking of which, where were they? While they weren't technically allowed to hang around in public, Draco never said he couldn't at least exchange a few words.

He nearly choked on stifled laughter when Seamus Finnigan tried to woo an older student. To everyone's unsurprised reaction, the response was met as you would've guessed. A multitude of heckles and hysterics, no one could save him from his own humiliation.

It seemed like the crowd parted shortly after. Not a minute later, Mortimer found himself scanning the pub for Luna and Ginny.

Quickly however, he spotted a familiar mousy-haired silhouette by the table in the back corner. Granger's brows immediately knit together as their eyes met for a second. Both Potter and Weasley were nowhere to be seen.

Was she talking to herself?

It seemed as though she was, her lips were moving, and her features seemed to harden, giving Mortimer the impression, she was arguing. But there was no one around her, and she was coming across as crazy.

Perhaps her quest of saving elf's simply became too much for her and lost what little rationality she had.

Mortimer was about to look away and forget about Granger when she stares right back at him. This time however, she waved at him. Gesturing her hand over to the table where she was sitting, she was calling to him.

She wanted him to come sit with her.

For a second, he sat there, his eyes drifted around the pub, he thought perhaps she was trying to get the attention of someone else. Maybe they were behind him. Yet, when he found that no one was there, he turns back over to Granger.

As to not cause another embarrassing scene, Mortimer points at himself and mutters.

Me?

His answer was her frantic nods. But before he could leave his table, he searches for Draco.

It was hard to see but he could faintly see Draco in front of the bar, attempting to pry Parkinson away. To no avail and knowing how big of an obstacle she was, it would take the blond a while.

Swiftly and without being seen, he walks up towards the back the of the room. Her figure gradually grows as he draws closer.

"Black." She coldly calls onto once Mortimer was close enough.

"Granger." Mortimer was standing behind an empty chair. His tall frame towers over hers.

She was acting strange, seeming as though she was fighting with herself and grits out. "Have a seat."

This was highly suspicious and wasn't sure that was a good idea. "Why? What are you hiding?"

"What?" She lowers her voice, flinching anxiously when he challenges.

"You look like you rather strangle yourself than talk to me." He folds his arms, feeling a rising stubbornness in him. "Who put you up to it? Was it Potter? Weasley?"

"I told her to call you over here." A sudden voice declares on her behalf. Making sure Mortimer could hear him.

The voice sounded like Potter. However, there was no boy. Just Granger and her overly nervous face. "Potter?" Mortimer says while looking over his shoulders. "Why are you hiding? Are you under the disillusionment charm?"

Speaking into the air, Granger places her hands on the table and hisses. "Harry, I don't think Black should know about that thing."

Thing? What thing?

And out the blue, Potter's head peers out into existence. It was unexpected that Mortimer felt it safe to take a few steps back. "Harry? Why are you a floating head?"

The floating head of Potter as he they stared at one another was broken by his own words. "Look around."

He does, and what he finds are a bunch of teenagers chatting away, seemingly unaware of the floating head. The only thing he notices is that everyone is wearing the same badge as Draco, supporting him as their champion.

Harry nods and not long after hides back, no longer to be seen.

"Why aren't you wearing one?" Granger nips at him whilst taking out a couple of parchments.

If her aim was to upset him, she had thankfully failed, for his mood couldn't be broken from the all the fun he was having here. "It wouldn't be right." He simply answers.

When Granger couldn't find a way to retort, she sits back, frowning as she takes out a quill.

To avoid the uncomfortable silence, Mortimer glances around and notes. "I see you and Weasley still aren't talking to each other." He says, observing Ron sitting with his brothers and another friend of theirs.

"No." Harry whispers, he only wanted Mortimer to hear, but not possible as Hermione was sitting next to him. "We aren't."

"Harry, this is ridiculous! Enough hiding. You need to talk to him." Hermione sighs in the most frustrated tones. "You miss him, and I know he misses you -"

"I don't!" Harry hisses under his cloak. "I told you already, I'm not apologizing for something that wasn't my fault."

Mortimer felt a tad silly standing there, hearing them go back and forth. "Granger has a point, you shouldn't hide." Deciding to take the seat across from them but sat in a position where it'd be easier to slide right out.

For once Hermione didn't sneer at him and actually smiled. "See? Black agrees."

Though, Harry was rather dubious to his response. "You do?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he purses his lips. "If Ron refuses to be your friend - Maybe it's time for you get a new one."

Hermione almost hopped right out of her seat. "That isn't what I meant!" Almost slamming her hands back on the table, she growls. "Ron and Harry are still friends! They're arguing over something petty and if Harry would simply apologize -"

"Seems rather unfair if you ask me."

Her face grimaces at the suggestion of her two friends splitting up. "I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Well good - Because it's nonsense." Mortimer scoffs before rolling his eyes. "Whoever put his name in the goblet wanted Harry there for a reason. The last thing he should worry about is whether he can trust his friends or not. Ron is a jealous lout, and he needs to get over his pride. Harry needs a friend, more now than ever - Be that person Granger and don't push him if he isn't ready."

Hermione visibly shrunk; her shoulders drawn up her ears in a way that almost appeared comical. She grew red, a combination of embarrassment and anger, she was choking on her words. She responds in the only way she can, outrage. "As if you'd be any better. I doubt your friends know just how wicked you really are."

"No, they don't." He answers, a smile grew at the recollection. No, his friends weren't ready for that, they were all so young to know the graphic details of certain memories. "But this isn't about me this is about Harry." He voices softly but loud for Harry to hear. Though from this position it appears as though he was speaking to Granger. "Ron isn't thinking about you." Mortimer isn't sure if Harry was looking at him or not. Regardless, he had flicked his head over to the bar where Ron was laughing over something Dean had said. "Neither should you - But that's just my opinion."

All this time Harry was quiet. They couldn't see him underneath, but in time, with every word that was said, Harry had shriveled up and shrink as a whole. A lot of what Mortimer said was convincing. He wasn't speaking out of malice, nor did it appear fake in any way. Anyone in Harry's position would feel betrayed. After everything they've been through, it meant nothing to Ron.

And that's what hurts the most.

Mortimer scoffs.

Harry wasn't sure if Mortimer's annoyed intake of breath came from his very own humiliation he felt, or from the eyes of passing girls who gleamed and waved at Black's presence. "You seem popular these days." Harry's muffled voice gave way for a new topic.

Hermione rolls her and makes a disgruntled noise.

Mortimer shared the same sentiment. "For the wrong reasons. A few years ago, they were glaring at me. Now, they look like they want to devour me." He smiles, however, the expression held vicious venom.

They were nothing but two-faced phonies.

It made him sick.

Suddenly, he says. "Greengrass says it's because I'm blossoming."

"Blossoming?" Harry chuckles. That sort of sounds like it was meant as joke.

Granger on the other hand, chose to ignore him and began writing down a paragraph of sorts.

"Everyone goes through it, Granger... puberty... hormones..." Mortimer snickered and wouldn't be surprised if Harry's face had turned red. Even Granger had coughed out from nervousness at the subject. "It's all girls and boys talk about these days."

"They should be focusing on their work, rather than getting into a relationship that most likely won't last." Hermione voices her opinion by exhaling a long huff of air.

"Probably not," Mortimer chimed in from his chair, setting his palm on the table. "But that doesn't stop them from believing - Don't worry Granger, I'm sure there's someone out there for you."

Furiously, Hermione screeches her chair back and rises. "I'm going to get us drinks."

"I think you've upset her." The empty spot murmurs.

He never said he was good with words, Mortimer admits. Veering his eyes to the side, there was a large stuffed head of the bear firmly clamped right above the wooden wall. "I give her about a day -" He comments, though it wasn't as concerning as to how Potter had become invisible. "How are you able to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Turn invisible." He answers, although now it just looks like he was talking to himself now thar Granger was no longer present. "I can hear you, but I can't see you. How?"

"I..." Harry pauses, sounding quite unsure. Mortimer was certain the whole trust thing was hanging by a thread and at any moment could break.

"I understand if you can't really say." If there was one thing, he was willing to work on, it'd be patience. "I'm the same way about certain things."

"Thanks." A short breath, he decides to refrain and change topics. "How do you like Hogsmeade so far?"

Mortimer remarks with a smile, sweeping crumbs of food that had been left on the table by the previous guests. "Loads of fun - I can't believe I've been missing out on these trips. If I'd known it'd be this exciting, I wouldn't have left home in the first place."

He couldn't tell, but Harry's face had furrowed, mulling over and recalling running into him in the knight bus last year. "Yeah, I remember that. You ran away from home.

"Mmhmm." He shook his head as he looked around. "Aunt Cissy was livid. She thought Black had kidnapped me."

"Why would she think that?"

He shrugs, resting his hand on the tabletop, tapping it lightly with his fingers. "She believes Black was after the vault."

"Sirius never cared for fortune."

"He isn't bright - that one."

Nearly shouting, but catching himself before he could attract the attention, he growls. "Sirius isn't your aunt. He cares for his friends and those closest to him."

"Exactly." Mortimer didn't debate him on that. "It makes him vulnerable." Wrinkling his nose, he sometimes asks himself how Sirius managed to survive this long. "too hotheaded. Too quick to act, never thinking - Almost like you. He should be more careful; it might cost him one day."

"I didn't know you cared so much for him." Harry's sarcastic tone didn't go unnoticed.

Chuckling, he peers right at the bar for any signs of Draco.

From his position, Mortimer could almost hear Harry's breathing. "Why did you run away?"

"Still nosy - Aren't we?" He stares at the fireplace that had suddenly set off. "Tell me your secret and I'll tell you mines."

"I can't."

"Well then there's nothing left to say." Seeing as how Harry wasn't going to benefit him, Mortimer was preparing himself to get up. "It was nice talking to you, maybe we can do again without any distractions."

"Yeah - maybe."

"Good luck out there, and don't listen to what the others are saying. You don't need Weasley to make you happy, you have others who could do it better."

Mortimer could hear that Harry was taken aback by his statements. "Th-Thank you..."

"I mean it." Growing quite serious, he goes on. "If you ever need help, just. . ." He couldn't believe what he was about to say. "Let me know. Like you said, we don't have to be enemies."

"I..." He halts a second time. It was clear by the sound of his voice, Mortimer kept surprising him. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

"Anytime." Mortimer waves wherever he believes Potter is hiding.

Just as he was about to get up, he stops at the sound of Draco's voice. "Who are you talking to?"

Nearly laughing, Mortimer gets up, staring at the blond carrying a small silver tray with a couple of filled bottles. "My new friend that I just made - Can't you see him?" Pointing at an empty chair, he grins in a mischievous manner.

Wordlessly, Draco begins to frown, a subtle concerned expression crosses his pale face before he speaks. "Right, no more sweets for you - The sugar has clearly eaten away at your brain" He turns to walk back to their original table. "C'mon - i'll ask if they have any coffee."

Following, Draco, Mortimer drapes an arm over his shoulder, the other hand carrying his rather large bag of assorted candys. "Anything you say sweet cousin of mine."

Once they headed back to their booth, the pub's door opens. Entering was the good ol' grounds keeper, Hagrid. Alongside him was the unexpected Dark Art's professor, Alastor Moody, drinking from his flask.

They stopped in the front for a quick cup and then moved on. Making their way to where Mortimer had been talking to the invisible boy, Harry. Since then, Hermione had returned, writing harshly as her quill pressed down on the parchment.

"What are you looking at now?" Draco growls out, capturing his attention.

"Moody."

Taking a long sip of his drink. "What about him?"

"I don't like him."

"So? He's a teacher. We aren't supposed to be their friends."

True. But there was something off about him - and it wasn't that big eye of his - No, this was different. From his lesson alone, they mostly leaned on the darker side of things.

Mood said it was to prepare them for what's out there. If that were true, then why wasn't he showing them how to defend themselves from him. All he did was cast horrible jinxes and hexes on students and each time he would giggle out and attempt the hide his smile.

Those small and subtle moments, Mortimer was able to get a glimpse. To see a side that the students were oblivious to, including Potter himself.

"Where's Theo?"

Sighing, Draco rolled his eyes and scowls. "He's with Greengrass and Davis. He's trying to get close to the half-blood - Said he'd meet up with us later."

Grabbing the mug - Draco had followed through on his word, bringing Mortimer the caffeine inducing beverage - taking a careful sip as to not burn his tongue.

Sometime later Blaise returns after charming his way into meeting the girls again before dinner. Once they've rested enough, the three would leave the Three Broomsticks and decide to catch up with Nott. Draco was hoping by then, Greengrass and Davis had left.

Going back out into the chilly weather, they pass the other students that were browsing around. The air somehow got even colder as the sky grew darker.

He stops right in front of an outdoor eatery. "You two go on ahead."

The glare of suspicion was cast on his silver eyes, but after watching him giggling to himself, he raises a brow and asks. "Where are you going?"

Pointing to the top of a steel made sign - The Gorging Goblin, it read - Mortimer perks up a bit and spoke. "They have cinnamon rolls with a pumpkin glaze on top."

Giving him the most glowered of looks, Draco's arms fold over his chest. "So?"

Distracted by the commotion inside the little place, he says. "I want one."

He doesn't attempt to conceal the displeasure he was feeling towards Mortimer's foolish suggestion and simply retorts. "Have one of the elves make them for you."

At this, Mortimer shakes his head. "I want it made by a goblin - See?"

Walking closer to the establishment, the sizably window provided a great view of the of the interior area. Fairly small, on five tables were available for customers to dine in. Diamond pattern flooring and a few flowerpots dangled near the counter. There was also another door that leads anyone to kitchen, where Mortimer suppose the goblins were working at.

"I want to go in." Mortimer childishly insisting, he was already heading to the door when Draco pulls him away.

Zabini stays out of this one, but his droll gaze told the blond how ridiculous Black was behaving.

"I can have mother send you some." Draco suggests, now he was starting to sound like the parent, telling the child 'No'. All that was left was for Mortimer to have a hissy-fit in public.

But thankfully he didn't. Mortimer instead smiles at the two. "How about you leave me here and meet you guys back at the gate."

"No, you're not -"

"Give me an hour at least." Mortimer moans out, peering back inside. "Look! There's another." Distracted by the creatures, he wanted to go inside and try out for himself.

"Fine!" Snapping out, a few onlookers went to see what the fuss was. "You aren't to leave this spot, got it?" Draco approached Mortimer, irritation rising in his voices.

"I got it mother." Mortimer sighs, but soon brightens as he grips the knob of the entrance. "Now, go away."

Stretching out his arm, Draco dulls out. "First, you'll have to hand over the bag."

Hearing this makes him hold his bag tighter. "What for?"

"You aren't going to eat pastries and sweets at the same time." Running a hand through his hair, Draco sigh and moves his other hand further. "Bag, now."

After a moment of debating, Mortimer surrenders his goody bag and waves it goodbye.

Snatching the bag right out of his hand, he repeats to him. "An hour, Mortimer, I mean it." Draco making sure he drills the rule into his skull, Mortimer nods before looking back at the shop.

Hearing them leave by their footsteps, he forgets about the candy and lets out short gasp. There was a female goblin emerging from the solid wood, swinging doors. She was carrying a small round tray with beautifully crafted treats and wine glasses filled half in sparkling juice, bubbling and changing between colors of blue and purple.

Going inside, the warmth air from the hot ovens, brushes a few strands of his hair back. He was amazed to see a goblin outside of the bank known as Wizengamont. He didn't stop to think that they'd want to be something else besides a banker. He didn't even know what the females look liked! And here's one now!

Oddly enough, they were slightly thinner, their hair was in a tight bun. She was old and wore a dark green apron. He guessed she was indeed the owner - The name gave it away. He ooed when another goblin comes out, this one was pudgy and he too was old, if not older, carrying loads of heavy tray before vanishing again.

Mending the cash register was a woman, she wasn't a goblin but human, which he also found fascinating. From the things he's heard, goblins and wizards didn't have the friendliest of relationships. And over the years they've tolerated each other for convenance sake. So, to see one working for them, was very interesting.

After being greeted and a few delays, he settled down on one of the tables in front of the window.

Eating the most delectable cream puffs, he never much cared for the taste of coffee either but the small teacup he sipped out of was filled exploding flavors that instantly widen his eyes. The elves at school and his home couldn't be compared with the goblins. It was one of the best things he's ever had.

The portions might've been small, but the taste was anything but. Each bite made his body instantly warm up to the textures, giving him the feelings of being wrapped in a fluffy cloud.

The doors of the shop open, but the creamy custard melting in his mouth couldn't tell him that as he shoves another one in his mouth.

"Mortimer!"

He stopped mid-chew when a fiery head of hair danced in front of his vision. "Ginny." He muffled, "Luna." spouting crumbs from his mouth.

His mouth being filled prompted Luna to giggle behind her as the two came near to sit in the empty chairs beside him "You look like a squirrel." Luna pointed at his blown-up cheeks.

Swallowing it whole, his smile broadens. "What are you guys doing here?"

Ginny was the first to answer. "We were strolling for bit, and we saw you here alone." Her whole face lit up and she laughs. "What are you doing here alone? I thought Malfoy put his leash on you."

"I got out." He smiled brightly. "For a while at least - Draco doesn't want me leaving this spot. He could be back at any moment."

"I doubt it." Ginny smirked, curiously eyeing his plate.

Luna glance at the table and saw an array of empty dishes. "Oh yes, he's at spintwitches. The owner is trying to convince him into buying a Citius in favor of a Nimbus."

"How do you know?"

Ginny grabbed one of the pastries of his plate and replied. "I was looking at the models they had when Malfoy and Zabini showed up."

"He called Ginny poor... That wasn't very nice." Luna pouted, wrinkling her nose.

"So we thought we'd get back at him by hanging around with you." She shrugs before swallowing.

Nodding, Luna's eyes twinkled mischievously. "We know how much he dislikes the sight of us three together."

"Yeah - and what's with all this food?" It seemed as though Mortimer had eaten more than he probably should. But who would deny a paying customer?

"You guys have to try these!" To show he wasn't as crazy, he offers the girls a plate of his own. "It's made by goblins! They're great and their tea - I've never had anything like it."

"I think you've passed your sugar limit." Ginny laughs, rubbing his back calmly.

Before Ginny could take the plate away, Mortimer had stuffed one in her mouth. The expression on her face quickly turned into amazement, letting out a soft moan. "What is it?" She asked, though you could hardly hear her under her puffed up cheeks.

Sitting up straight, Mortimer announces with his best French accent. "Choux à la crème."

Titling her head, there was still food in her mouth when she questioned. "Ff-what?"

"Cream puffs!"

Luna giggles and watched as they exchanged a few more words to describe the unworldly treat. Soon after, Mortimer offers her one, which she happily took, and her reaction was the same of the two.

By that time, they had finished devouring every single plate that was served, they loosen the buttons on their trousers as their bellies threatened to spring right out. Mortimer thought he was about to go into a food coma after all that.

Eventually, they settled down enough for them to get back at their feet. Thanking the owners, the three had left the shop.

Ginny stops right in front of the door. "Let's go to the three broomsticks."

"Been there - Too crowded." Scrunching his nose, he didn't seem too fond of running into Potter or Granger again, much less the professors.

Rubbing her chin lightly, Luna pondered. "We've already been to the joke shop, and we've already purchased our quills."

"And bookstores are boring." Ginny adds, sharing the same inquiry look.

"I don't really need a cauldron either." Remembering that he had purchased the finest of qualities.

Scratching her nose, her eyes widen at an idea. "Hey! Let's go to the shrieking shack."

There was brief pause among them. Little did the two know, Mortimer has already seen it - been in it - the recollection of Black and Lupin's stupid plan to get him to confess a crime he hasn't committed. The trio of buffoons who stood there and did nothing to help.

All water under the bridge.

Sort of.

Nevertheless, Mortimer could tell they were trying to drag their interaction for as long as they could before heading back inside the castle.

Considering the trouble, they've gone to, he didn't want to be the one to crush their spirits by ruining the fun they were having. "Alright - But just the outside." Mortimer said wearily, acting rather inconspicuous. "Must be filthy in there - All that dirt and germs..." Making a repulsed expression.

Ginny didn't seem to mind and laughed her way down the pavement all the while Luna laces her arms around his left arm, dragging him in the uneven path towards the shack.

With every little step, the noises grew quieter and much of the shops have nearly disappeared in the back. They brush against a couple of naked trees before nearing a dark wooded fence you could simply climb over.

Watching the torn down house, Ginny tilts her head and asks. "Do you really think it's haunted?"

Mortimer was rather baffled at her weary tone. Do they not know where they live? "You've seen the spirits walking around the school?"

Ginny retorted, "It's different. The ghosts at our school are friendly. Anyplace that's haunted is usually crawling with evil spirits that want to hurt you. Those are the ones you need to look out for."

"You may have a point, although, I'd personally place peeves under that category." Luna's chimed as her distant gaze of the ruined house brought shivers down her spin. "He can be quite rude."

Frankly he thought very little of it, but he squinted his eyes a bit, it almost resembled his old home. Though, the size was above from the dingy frail home. The presence of his friends surely made it better. "You're being polite Luna." Mortimer craning his head to meet her giggling face.

"Has anyone actually lived there? The house had already been tattered when my older brother, Bill, arrived." Ginny curiously and thoughtfully pressed her lips together.

"Doubt it, but does look quite cozy, don't it?" Stuffing his cold hands inside his pocket, he cracks without realizing. "Odd - kind of reminds me of my home - back where I use to live."

Luna took a step forward, nudging Mortimer's elbow, the inquisitiveness eluding from her pale eyes as if she wanted to know. "Where did you live?"

Even Ginny grew silent. She too wanted to know and had waited with the same expression as the ravenclaw.

There was a small itch in the middle his chest, yet the question has captured his attention that he ignores the sensation. Instead, curls his bottom lip, responding. "With an old muggle - I called her nana."

"Nana?" Luna repeats, tilting her head.

"You lived with a muggle?" Ginny's eyes shot up. "A real muggle?" Saying it in a way that was unbelievable. "Then that means... you were raised in the non-magical world?"

"Well... Yeah." Cracking his neck, Mortimer wasn't at all bothered by their reaction. Try as he might he was surprised to have confessed. "I thought you guys knew."

"Uh - No!" Her baffled expression continues as Ginny presses. "You've never mentioned it - Matter of fact, you never talked about the past." Now that she thought about.

She had probably thought he had been shoved in a box and kept there until he was old enough to receive his letter - Like everyone else would mention in passing as Mortimer was never seen until just a few years ago.

Nodding, Luna gently bobbed her head, picking her words carefully. "We've been really curious," she confessed. "But we also know how you like your privacy; it's why we never asked."

"Mmhmm - Luna says you'll share when you're ready."

Mortimer pauses, looking between Ginny and Luna listening and scouting for dishonesty in their eyes. It was a fear of judgment that made him so hesitant. He can almost feel his cheeks getting warm from his own shame.

The wind blew and pushed the grass back. His skin crawled; the memory of her face washed over him. It was brief, but whenever he looked down, it came rushing back.

Luna reaches her arm out and took his pale hand into hers, smiling like she was trying to encourage him, but still patient enough that she doesn't breathe a word.

"Yeah." He swallows his shyness. "I live in Leighton Bizzard - or use to." Rubbing the back of his head. "It was a long time ago."

Ginny puts in call; her voice was nervy. Taking into account that she knew who both parents were, the notion of his upbringing came into question. "And what about this person you were living with? Who was she?"

"Some old lady..." Mortimer trailed off, looking down at his fear and scuffing his shoes against the ground. "I thought she was my grandmother - She isn't." He presses his lips. "She's just a stranger who found me."

"What?" Frantically, Ginny went over to grip his arm, clutching, staring upward to his face, expressing her fears as she exclaims. "So mum was right? Muggles really do kidnap children from wizards?"

What?

"No!" Mortimer shook his head, but more shocked with the notion. "They don't do that at all!"

There was a slight wrinkle in Luna's forehead as she appeared disturbed - A horrible picture of muggles grabbing witches, she hugs herself. "Then how did you get there?"

Removing Ginny's hand, "Bellatrix Lestrange." He mumbles out like a curse; he feared as though someone might hear him that he lowers it. "She left me and didn't tell anyone. That's when she found me..." He can hear his own voice getting bitter. "She raised me."

Pensively, Ginny rubs the top of her head while Luna's face grew soft. "How horrible of Lestrange to do that - I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." Mortimer said with a heavy sigh, wanting to get away from the topic.

"She didn't tell anyone. Not even Malfoy?" Ginny was still taken back by his response, seeming upset for her friend.

"No."

"Do you know why?"

Mortimer shakes his head.

Hopping over to Mortimer, Luna shakes his shoulder, eager and fascinated that she blurts. "Can you tell us about the person that raised you? What was she like?"

He could go on for hours and talk about what she was truly like, but he thought he'd save them.

Without dwelling too much on the details of the horrible hag he's come to know, he responds. "She was old..." Narrowing his eyes, he scraps for answers. "She smelled funny and . . ." Glancing up to the grey sky, he was contemplating further. "She enjoyed eating fermented milk on Sundays."

Her eyes expanding in mere seconds. "She sounds very lovely." Luna sighed with adoration, gushing over the image of a young Mortimer being held.

"Does Malfoy let you see her often?"

"No." Thankful that he'll never have to see her. Mortimer wasn't sure what their reaction would be when he tells them. "She's been dead for quite some time."

Instantly, their rueful demeanor causes them to sink back at the news.

The young Weasley girl bit her bottom lip. "I'm so sorry, Mortimer." She retorts sincerely. "We didn't know. . ."

He was touched by her remorse. Yet, none of it was needed. Instead, chuckles and tries to assure his friends with true honesty. "Don't worry, Ginny. She was fairly old when she found me and. . . I honestly didn't expect her to survive long enough to watch me grow."

Thankfully.

In the upcoming moment, he can feel his hands getting wet, some part of him stung at the fact he struggled to speak openly about his past. He hates it and didn't want to remember. His life here was better and his family loved him, it was everything he's wanted, except for the other part.

"Still!" Luna appeared utterly grieved and went to over to Mortimer to hug him. "It's okay to be sad. I sometimes miss my mother, so I know how much you miss you grandmother - Your Nana."

Oh boy. . .

Inwardly, he had to roll his eyes as he pats Luna's back. They seem to be taking it harder than he's ever had. In contrast, Mortimer would rather walk on broken glass than shed a tear over that awful hag.

"Thank you, Luna." Returning the small hug, Mortimer snorts and chuckles. "I feel so much better."

He removes his hand and takes a quick glance at Ginny. Tense as her features were, Mortimer knew she wanted to press further. It was usually everyone's first response when opening the door for them and his friend was no exception to this. It was a small language they spoke when they were in public, talking only with their eyes rather than chatter. Right now, Mortimer secretly tells her now's not the time. He wanted to enjoy hogsmeade and the time he had left with his friends.

"I'm glad you were raised by a muggle." Luna kept her gaze on Mortimer, offering her support. "You're a lot nicer and friendly."

Perhaps she was right. Then again, Nana was the reason he's still had issues. Mortimer thought living with the Malfoy's and moving into a new life would make it better. But no matter how hard they tried to comfort and encourage him; he can never shake the small voice telling him not to get too close.

He often asks himself if the pain he was feeling will ever go away. When will he stop seeing her face, hearing her voice. Will he ever heal? If so, how long will it take?

Standing before them, his eyes gleam and locked into theirs. "Maybe one day we can all get together and go visit her grave." He proposed delightfully and without breaking so much as a sweat.

"A great idea!" Shouted Luna, hopping again when she touches his arm. "I'd also love to see where you grew up."

Luna already seemed to be on board. Yet, Ginny appeared rather hesitant. She didn't say anything, but her expression told you her thoughts were elsewhere.

"What do you think, Ginny?" Mortimer asks suddenly.

Rapidly, she puts on a fake smile and steadily nodded her head. "Y-Yeah! It'll be good for you." Her tone was timid by the end of her sentence. She was fairly sure Mortimer hadn't noticed.

His head was directed at the creaking house, making loud shaky noises as the wind hits it, threatening to toss back. "I need to go back. I promised Draco I wouldn't leave the shop."

"You always do what he tells you?" Ginny stops briefly and face him.

There is a short pause on his part. Pondering to himself, well he supposes he does - When it counts - Then again, he hardly did listen to anyone, nor did he do what he was told. It's not like he doesn't want to follow their rules, he just thinks their rules are complete garbage. "Draco worries enough about me. I don't want to make it worse."

Ginny had to raise a brow; she didn't seem to think the blond was able to do anything besides fix his hair. "He worries about you?" Snorting out, she folds her arms and continues. "Who would've thought any of the Malfoy's were capable."

"They're family, Ginny." Luna defends clasping her hands together. For some odd reason, she was very pleased with Mortimer's manners. "Mortimer cares very much for Draco. Right?"

"Well, yeah." Mortimer didn't see why it was surprising. He had thought it was because every instance he's had when discussing Draco, he would come off as annoyed by Malfoy's totalitarian behavior.

His pressed lips holding back briefly, were broken when he tells them. "It sounds as though Bellatrix simply abandoned me - Like she didn't want me." He would say quietly, speaking straight from his heart. "They've been good to me, the Malfoy's. And Aunt Cissy has treated me as if I was hers - Which is why it means a lot to me. It makes me feel better knowing they're not going to hurt me." Not like everyone else here has.

Hearing his confession had made Ginny pause for a moment and reflect.

Luna appeared to have already known, which is why she had gone up to him and gently hugged him. "We know, Mortimer."

"I'm sorry." Ginny spoke softly, looking down shortly, not being able to face him. "I didn't mean to offend you."

Walking towards Ginny, he puts a hand on her shoulder, smirking and jeering. "You can never offend me. You aren't anywhere near the league of plonkers, not yet."

"Who's the first?"

"King halfwit Harry, the first." Mortimer starts to laugh.

And then Luna. Not long before that, Ginny fights her smile, resisting to humor the insult directed at Harry. Seconds later, she succumbs as well, joining the others.

When they were able to finally recover, Mortimer decides to lead them back into the crowded village. Their absence had not been noticed as several children brush pass them.

Proximately five minutes later, the three of them head back to The Gorging Goblin. Making sure Draco hadn't spotted them, Ginny and Luna quietly sneak off to the Three Broomsticks, leaving Mortimer waiting outside in the cold. He peers at the sidewalk; more students walk pass him and go into the crowded pub. He could feel his nose getting colder as he was sure he had been nipped by the bitter winds of nature.

He glances left and right, looking for signs of the blond and the snotty Italian, Blaise. For a while, he waits patiently and even begins to fiddle with the long golden chain around his neck. The wind had blown his hair back and a couple of leaves manages to scratch the tip of his shoes.

"Hey, Mortimer!" A couple of hufflepuffs were seen waving at him. "We were going to the Three Broomsticks, want to join us?" Asks one of them, she had dark brown hair, wearing a heavy sweater and small scarf that showed her house colors.

He knows none of their faces but has seen them walking around the grounds. "I'm waiting for Draco," Offering the girls a charming smile. "But thank you - Maybe next time we can all share a table, yeah?"

There was a hint of letdown but was quickly replaced by hope. "I'll hold you to that." And they began to giggle.

A blonde girl with short hair, winks at him while the rest waved at him. They don't stick around for long and shortly leave. Waving at him while they walked, he flaps his hand at them, dismissing and wishing they leave faster.

"He is so polite!"

" - waiting for Malfoy? My cousin would never do that..."

"Did you see his hair?"

When he was alone at last, he plays again with the gilded band again. Noting how cold his neck was, it was times like these when he suddenly realizes how much he misses Tobey. The worm often kept his neck warm in cold weathers, despite hating it himself.

Maybe when he returns to the castle, he can convince the snake of his foolishness and return back to his real master.

The thought was put on hold when he hears someone speak up to the side. "Waiting on someone, Black?" A rough, sort of husky voice tells him.

Mortimer hadn't turned from where he was standing. He relents and releases the chain. "I'm waiting for my cousin, Professor."

Moody made a small grumbling noise. His normal eyes targeting him while the other one scouts the surroundings. "Ah, Yes..." Nodding his head, he hobbles a few feet. "Malfoy." He said in disdain. "I nearly forgot the two of you share the same blood."

He made it sound as though it was a bad thing, Mortimer didn't believe so. Yet, Moody has made it perfectly clear that he does not like Malfoy in the slightest. Sneering out his name anytime he did roll call, blind as Draco was, Moody would coldly stare once in a while, waiting for the young heir to do something horrible.

He can only blame it on his uncle for Moody's resentment. Maybe because the elder Malfoy was too full of himself. Too snotty for his own good. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that Uncle Lucius managed to avoid capture during the first war. The idea of a free man who was guilty had enraged the ex-auor, making him despise the name and those in it.

From everything he's heard from others, the prison has Moody to thank for half of its residents - All except Malfoy. "We do." Smiling when he proudly answers the man.

Moody scratches the bottom of his prickly chin and mutters. "Funny, I've never heard of you. I've seen your cousin - Once or twice - as a wee lad. Yet, I've failed to have seen -heard - of you."

Mortimer was getting the sense of Moody's prying stare (not the wobbly one of course) but his normal, very bright eye. "It was a secret. They wanted to protect me." Mortimer says, keeping the corner of his lips upwards. "My Aunt fears retaliation."

"Constant vigilance. She has the right mind set." Moody nods wickedly. "Anyone would fly of the handle if they found out Bellatrix Lestrange had gone off and birthed a child when she failed to give them the same courtesy."

"Yes, well..." Clearing his throat, Mortimer kept his composure. He's expected this for a while. He just didn't think it would take Moody this long to throw it at his face and since everyone loves to remind him of his parent's misdeeds, he can only stipulate and hope the Professor gets bored with it. "Bellatrix is in prison now - They won't ever have to deal with her again."

"Not now, anyway."

What does he mean by that? Arching his neck, he asks. "Pardon, Professor?"

"It's only a matter of time before they start surfacing again."

Surfacing? Moody sounded sure of it, his features were hardening with serious nature, he proceeds to tell the stoic boy. "You've heard about the quidditch cup haven't ya' boy?"

"I was there."

"Even better." He lets out a rough laugh. "Then you must know about the dark mark that appeared in the sky, right?"

Mortimer leisurely bobs his head. He remembers it well. It was like a strange calling, yet oddly discomforting because of the implications it had on everybody else, he couldn't let anyone know how close he was to it.

"The dark mark. . ." His tone lowers in secrecy, leaning down so that he was talking near Mortimer's ear, saying in a dark manner. "They all scurry at the sight - Witches and Wizards - It hasn't been seen in years and now it's come back to haunt..." Eerily looking around. "They'll be back.. along with the rotten lot in Azkaban, including your mother."

During his crazy speech, Mortimer steps back. Putting on a face, it was better to act innocent, he didn't want Moody to interfere in his affairs. His appearance alone brought him the unnecessary attention. "The guards in Azkaban will make sure it doesn't happen, right professor?"

"The guards..." Moody trails, his normal eye appears distant, almost like he could see right through him, as if he knew the truth. "right. . . They'll keep them away."

Maybe it was just in his head, but Mortimer could faintly see his eye color changing, it was getting slightly dark. It was odd that he had to look up at the sky to make sure it wasn't the sun's trickery doing this.

There is no way for Moody to know who his father is. Mortimer, could we imagine Alastor's reaction; A mad rabid dog out of its leash, running for a bite. He could hardly stand Malfoy - But Mortimer being Tom's son? Yep, the man will probably go off the trolley before listening to reason.

While he talked, Moody notices Mortimer's observant stare. "What are you starin' at boy?" He grits his teeth at Mortimer's musing smile.

Mortimer could easily tell his reaction was getting to the ex-auror. Casually, rolling his eyes to the side, he attempts to hide his smirk. "Oh, nothing Professor. I simply find your views quite interesting. As a former auror, you've seen a lot of stuff."

Moody produces a grumbling sound that was taken like a yes.

Steering his head to left, Mortimer waves at Bulstrode and some of the slytherin girls. A sincere question emerges. "Do you know what happened to my mother? On the day she was captured. Were you there?"

It was something he wanted to know for the longest of times. From asking Dumbledore to Professor Snape - Both his aunt and Uncle - they've all been vague and sketchy about his mother's arrest. There were very few details and articles stated what was already public knowledge; it was annoying to have to read what's already known.

Perhaps Moody will be different, after all, he hardly seemed the type to sugarcoat anything - Given by the previous lessons, specifically the teachings of unforgivables, maybe he'll tell him how it is.

Alastor pauses, the only sounds emitting from him were that of his enchanted eye, making clicking and rattling noises. He was thinking - From what he could tell - However, it took him far more time than it should have. "I can't say I was there particularly at the scene of the crime. But..." He halts for a short time. "I was there when she was first brought in Azkaban."

His eyes widen a little when a twang of excitement was noted, his voice rises. "You were?"

"Sure was." One nod, Moody decides to start digging inside his coat pockets. "That woman - Mad as a march hare. . . I could hear her laughing all the way to the top of her cell." Growling at himself, he continues to dig. "Everyone could hear her. I tell you; the place went dead silent and some of prisoners thought they were hearing death's laughter." Finding what he was looking for, he opens the cork and starts drinking out of his flask.

The heart inside Mortimer's chest begins to beat hard. The uneasy feeling, he gets, the laugh Moody was referring to happens to be exact same one that he has. A near deep high pitch laugh that was both baleful and menacing, he wonders if Sirius was right about inheriting her bloodthirsty habits.

Maybe he was just as crazy her. Of course, he didn't want to believe it. Who would? But it made him want to learn more about the kind of person who had brought him here. What else did Bella do? What did she have to say about all of this? "Do you think Bellatrix knows..." Or cares? "if her son made it out?"

Showing his utter disapproval, Moody begins to tisk at him. "Aye, child. I don't recommend going down that road." Wiping his mouth with his backhand, he sighs. "You'll only hurt ya'self by doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Giving yourself hope." His tone grave, the mad eye of his blinks rapidly. "Had Lestrange cared enough about her son," Eyeing him closely to indicate. "she'd be here and not Azkaban; don't you believe so boy? Ah, yes..."

Reliving it like an old tale, he stares distantly. "There's only one thing your mother ever cared about, and that was he-who-must-not-be-named. A real devotee," He chortles and said. "An deep admirer of his. You will not sway her from changing her mind. You're more likely to get kicked by a troll and run over by a train than to get her to ever listen."

Pointing at Mortimer while holding his flask, he takes another long sip. "No, Black, sorry to say this - It's better to move on and forget that woman. The thought her actually caring..." He snorts and proceeds to chuckle softly. "It will be a cold day in hell... which isn't saying much as it is very unlikely."

Mortimer stares at him for a long moment, uncertain of what to say. While the Moody drowns his drink, he cracks his neck to soften his muscles. He shouldn't be surprised and yet he was. It was felt different hearing it from somebody else. His Aunt would never speak ill against her own sister and Dumbledore would gloss over it because he thought Mortimer wouldn't take it well.

None of it was true though, he's known how horrible of person Bella was. Unfortunately, he was at fault for believing a small percent of her did really care and actually wanted to see him again, despite the troubles that came along the way. But as Moody bluntly stated, if there was any truth to Bellatrix as a person, then it more than possible she'd turn him away.

It was only a thought. Nonetheless, it made his chest feel sore at the realization. Moody wasn't lying, or at least Mortimer didn't believe he was. He was forthright and didn't talk down on him, he confirmed what he already knew and didn't try to cover how horrible of person she was.

It was hearing the truth that made is so disappointing.

A sudden wetness on his left cheek was instantly felt, fazing him out his thoughts.

Was he crying?

Staring right up at the sky, another drop hits his forehead, causing him to flinch. He gets rid of the wet spot and notices a small light of thunder that shook the very clouds.

It was going to start raining soon.

And Draco has yet to comeback.

Moody was still watching him with the same disbelieving look. He didn't say a word and yet Mortimer could somewhat tell what he was thinking. The stare alone, that man appeared as though he was trying to understand what Mortimer is - Was.

Seeing him as if he were a figment of Moody's imagination, the man took one big gulp of his stash before sealing it back in. Wind brushing Mortimer's hair back, he punts off a few pebbles, determined to escape the man's gaze. He starts glancing over towards passing students and working adults and soon other's start making their way out of the many shops that were available.

From out of the blue, he could see Seamus and Dean strolling, behind from them was Ron, guffawing and shoving one another in good humor. They've yet to notice him, though, it's not like he wanted them to. But considering this was Weasley we're talking about, Mortimer prepares himself for the redhead to notice him and start pointing the finger at him and yell shame.

Many others slowly start moving as well, some going towards Honeydukes, whilst others ran to Zonko's joke shop. Those who needed to restock their own school supplies went into places like Scrivenshaft's Quill shop, Tomes and Scrolls, Potage's Cauldron shop, and others alike.

A couple boys from Durmstrang follow, Mortimer noticing that one of them was the famous seeker, Viktor Krum. His brows were lowered, and he seemed rather bored, letting his friends do all the talking he mutters, making it hard for anyone to understand.

Their eyes met briefly and turn away in seconds.

"What do you think of about our champions, Black?" Grabbing his attention once more, Moody asks him with an inquiry expression. "It sure was unexpected."

He nods and adds. "Very interesting..." He veers at the right-side to see if Draco was anywhere nearby. Mostly, he wants to avoid eye contact with the ex-auror.

Moody laughs. "I'll say - Two champions? It's never been heard of. What about Potter? What do you think of him?"

Sighing in annoyance, Draco seemed to be taking his sweet time getting over here. "What can I say?" He comments, distracting himself by the ongoing crowd of people. "It's Potter, things are bound to happen when you're the chosen one." He then shrugs his shoulders. "I guess someone thought he deserves to be picked."

"You don't believe he put his name in the goblet?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Mortimer keeps his thoughts to himself and instead keeps his answers as vague as possible. "I don't know. It's not my place to say."

Lifting a brow, his questions. "And you're not all bothered that a Gryffindor was chosen?"

"Why would I?" Rubbing the back his head, he wished Draco would simply stop dragging his feet and get over here already. "To be honest, I try not to invest too much of my times in such events."

"Ah, an academic."

He shrugs again.

Just then a tall, slender of girl stops in front of him and asks. "Excuse me," she had a heavy accent, but one could still understand. "Where can we find the local tavern?"

Looking up, Mortimer's eyes slightly widen as he notices how beautiful she was. Her perfect heart shaped head was pale - as was hair. A neatly made braid, letting two loose strands to rest on the side of her face, it took him almost a minute to realize she was from the other school. She wasn't alone, there were four others with her, each pretty in their own regard but for some reason, she stood out the most.

Clearing his throat, he composes himself enough to answer her. "Down over there," He points and instructs. "Passing the post office, it'll be on your left."

Nodding, the girl and the rest of her friends start making their way, thanking him before they move right the crowd.

Moody was about to say something else when Mortimer felt a disturbance in the air.

"Mortimer!" From the deepest layers of hell rises the unstoppable force that is Lavender. "Mortimer!" Waving her hands way in the air, she tries to grab his attention. "Over here! Mortimer!"

Her progressively loud calls, Mortimer clenches his eyes shut, thinking when he opens them, she'll disappear. Yet, it doesn't do much as her voice pierces through the air, forceful than before. People were starting to notice and looking at her. Mortimer could see the Patil twins giggling by a lamp post, somehow finding it funny. To make matters worse, Weasley and friends were staring at him.

Seamus and Dean were mocking him, chuckling and pointing at him while Ron scowls at him.

This couldn't be happening.

Not with everyone watching him, especially Moody who seemed at a loss. "A friend of yours?"

He sighs and does his best to ignore her. "No." He grouses, displaying how much of a bother she was becoming, his face was quickly becoming pink.

"Mortimer! I'm not leaving until you give me a peck on the cheek!"

There was more laughter.

And he slowly begins to shrink on the inside.

"Don't ignore your future wife!" She screams.

Covering his face with his hand to conceal the degradation he was feeling, only one thought out matched everything else.

Draco was so dead.

---

The students were all coming back from their trip to hogsmeade. They came in a large pile as they went inside.

"Come on Mortimer, I said I was sorry!" Draco trailing after Mortimer, he carries on through the entrance hall. "I got carried away with the time and Blaise was telling me that he needed backup on some sleazy beauxbaton he was trying to get with - Which he failed miserably - Mortimer!"

Ignoring his cousin, Mortimer continued to stomp his feet across the halls. Both hands were tightened into a fist, he doesn't think he'll be able to forgive him so easily.

Mortimer had to spend his last hour in clutches of Lavender, an hour of him being violated, trying to avoid being groped and any attempt of running away were shut down by the powerful hold of her strong arms, it was like she had been made of steel, her grip was unnatural, she made it clear to him that escaping was simply not possible.

The only reason he was alive now was because Luna had purposely dropped a box of crickets right in front of Lavender. She was distracted enough for him to get away. On a mental note, Mortimer will have to thank her next time he sees her.

"You're being childish." Draco said from his back.

Just as he thought he might punch Draco; he abruptly stops to turn around. Draco was still but became alarmed when Mortimer marches right at him.

"Wha-" Draco was about to question before he was interrupted by Mortimer.

Snatching the bag right out of his hands, Mortimer opens it and rummages through his purchased candys.

"What are you doing?" Draco exclaims, staring at him as though his head had hit the ceiling.

However, Mortimer hadn't bothered to answer him and continues to dig until he finds what he was looking for.

Students pass by him and head to their common rooms to prepare for tonight's meal.

Out of the crowd Astoria Greengrass waited by the stairs. She quickly runs up to Mortimer, smiling when she says. "Mortimer! How was it?"

Still ignoring Draco, Mortimer returns the smile. "It was wonderful."

"Did you bring it?" She asks excitedly.

Nodding, he shows her the box. "Jelly Slugs," He gives them a light shake. "Just as you asked."

Astoria nearly squeals but suppresses it and hops as she takes it. "Thank you! Daphne never lets me have sweets, says their bad for me..." Pouting her lips, she opens the box and flings a piece in her mouth.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." He said lightly, zipping his mouth before tossing out the key.

Giggling, she repeats the same motion and gives a big wink. "Your secret is safe with me." Chewing when she adds another.

"Our secret." Mortimer corrects with a joking grin.

"Yes." Nodding her head, she lets out a small laugh. "Our secret."

"Go now, before Daphne sees you."

"Oh! You're right." Astoria forgets, thumping her forehead she looks around. "Thank you again!" She said as she starts running back.

As he waves at her, Mortimer was shaken by Draco's hand. "What the hell are you doing with Greengrass?"

Lowering his brows, he wasn't sure he meant by that, either way, he tells him. "Nothing. She saw that I was going to today and said she wished she could go."

Draco wasn't pleased by his response and decided to probe further. "And?"

Mortimer didn't appreciate the attitude he was giving him. "And what? I told her I'd bring back her favorite sweets, Jelly Slugs. You know? To make her feel better."

"How do you know what her favorite treats are?"

"She told me while I was helping her with her charms homework."

"When was this?" His voice grew louder when questions him more.

"A few days ago. You and Blaise were too busy looking at yourselves at the mirror to notice." He scoffs. Why was Draco acting so surprised?

Forgetting the remark, he reminds him "I thought Greengrass told you to stay away from her sister."

Mortimer shrugs and looks inside his bag for a moment. "About that..." He ponders more and bites the inside of his cheek. "Tori is worried for her and Davis says she's been acting weird since the start of the term. You don't know anything, do you?"

It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes and scowl. "None at all. Although I have notice that she's been ignoring Zabini too - He won't shut up about it. I guess that's the reason why everyone is starting to call the ice queen."

Still, it wasn't making any sense why she was acting so. . . hostile towards him. It now seemed as though she was avoiding her friends too. Daphne always kept a straight face; it was more for her public image really. But those who knew her always saw the softness and kinder person within the hard shell.

It wasn't his place to meddle, though he hopes she gets things sorted out before she completely isolates herself.

"I'm still mad at you." Mortimer breathes out. He starts walking again and go right down the staircase that will lead him to the dungeons.

Draco was reminded by his words and soon returns to their previous discussion. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make up for the hell I had to endure."

"Stop exaggerating." Daco scolded, folding long arms across his chest. The sound of crinkled packages and a slight a heavy thump from the weight of the items, Mortimer shuffles his hand inside, taking out a truffle.

He glares at the blond. "Then you sit next her." Aggressively chewing on the small treat, Mortimer slurs through filled mouth. "And while you're at it, the two of you can read over all one hundred and eighty-three possible names for your future children!"

"You're kidding." He narrowed his eyes at him, lowering his arms as his voice was in disbelief. "You're making that up."

Mortimer was bold enough to close the distance between them, "No, I'm not." He grits, during which, turns back and walks down to the staircase, with bag at hand.

Draco didn't say anything this time.

And as soon as Mortimer entered the slytherin common room, he was instantly overrun by a mixture of both first and second years. They shout and jump right in the air, tugging at his sleeves for his attention.

There, the children yammer and talk over each other, he couldn't decipher a word that was being spoken. His name was being constantly called. Looking both left and right.

The noises grew louder. A swift decision, Mortimer tosses the bag on the floor. "Go crazy." He said, stepping aside the children begin to act like rabid animals.

Tearing the bag apart, the children start picking out boxes of candy and tearing the wrappings of giant's lollipops.

At the sight of children going wild as they devour the sugary sweets, Draco's blatant discomfort and befuddlement written over his face whenever the children start to run around the common room. "Did you just give them your candy?"

"I wasn't actually going to eat all of it. Besides, it's nice to do something for them. It isn't fair they don't get to go." Relieving a small itch on his cheek, he spoke lightly and educed the faintest of smirks.

"That's very sweet of you." Tracey smiled encouragingly, the gesture was simply too lovely, it'd be a crime not to bring it up.

"Who are you and what've you have done to the real Mortimer?" Laughs Theo, teasing Mortimer, he pats him right behind the shoulder. "Are you sure you aren't someone else? Did you take the polyjuice potion?"

Mortimer was going to retort when he notices Theo holding something on his other hand. "Hey, what's that you got there?"

Lifting his brow briefly, he lowers his eyes. A wave of relief washes over his shoulders. "Oh this? It's a frame." Holding it out to show him. The frame was oval shaped, meant for a portrait. It was made out of silver, carved with flowering patterns, it was coated in small round sapphire jewels and gleamed whenever you tilt it.

"Do you like it?" Theo was proud to show them, he happily told them. "Tracey and I found in Stitches and Draughts."

Tracey nods. Though, if she were speaking truthfully, the event was a tad different than told. "Actually, what really happened, Theo began to rummage through the crates laying around - Which he also happens to stumble on this lovely piece."

Draco didn't appear to be impressed. "What do you need a frame for?"

One moment Theo was smiling and then, a sudden change in his expression, lowers his mouth. "A picture of my mother." And he explains. "I don't have that many things belonging to her - My father burned everything." Pressing his mouth tightly. "I managed to save one picture of her. I've been keeping it safe for years. But I leave it at home so as to not risk getting it damage here."

There was a sad smile that formed as he appeared reminiscent. "My mother's favorite stone is sapphire." He brings the frame closer to him. "This happens to be exactly what I need. Once I place it inside, I can take it everywhere and not worry so much anymore."

They all stood quiet.

Regret surfacing from Draco, he places a supportive hand on Theo's shoulder. "Sorry." He mutters, his cheeks growing slightly warm.

Yet, Theo wasn't at all upset and rather smiles. "Don't worry about it, mate. You wouldn't have known." He sighed as held onto it. "My father made sure to wipe everything - And anything that would remind him of her, including her memory... I fear one day I'll forget what she looks like. . . and it's all his fault. I hate him."

Draco for once couldn't answer and stood silently watching Davis comfort Theo. "Once the term ends you won't have to worry about your father ever finding it. You can take it anywhere."

Nodding his head, Theo beams. "Wouldn't that be something. I can't wait to get it framed."

"A good move, Nott." Mortimer said, stepping forward, he offers a hand. "If you want, I can add protective charms around it. To make sure it doesn't break or damage the inside of it."

Theo's eyes grew large. "Would you, really?"

"Sure." Returning the same joyful expression. "I can tell it means a lot to you. I'd happily help any way I can."

"I'd really appreciate it, thanks." Theo replies. "I'll let you know later on."

After exchanging a few sentences here and there, Theo and Davis eventually leave and go back to their own dorms. There were still a few students running amok the common room. Neither of the children pay any attention towards Mortimer and Draco. The two were stuck with their own thoughts that they have forgotten about their argument that happened not long ago.

Settling down on the couch, Mortimer was feeling carefree at the moment. "You really didn't have to do that, you know." Draco had moved over to one of the sofas near the fireplace.

"I want to." Leaning back, he lets his head rest.

"Why?"

Wrinkling his forehead for a second, he doesn't think too hard on it, but wasn't sure whether to admit. "He's my friend." His voice trails momentarily, clearing his throat he eyes Draco briefly and flicks them back to the fireplace.

"Who are you really?" Narrowing his eyes, Draco walks in front of him, looking down at him. "Theo has a point - You're probably under the polyjuice potion." His dark shadow casting down on Mortimer, he leans forward.

As Mortimer opens his mouth to question him, he halts when Draco's pale hands start pinching the side of his cheeks. "Wha-ar-yo'u oing?"

Stretching his skin, Draco furrows his brows. "I'm wondering where my cousin went. You've never been one to care, I don't know why you've decided to now. What happened? Are you in trouble?"

Letting Draco pull his cheeks, his sentence was nearly inaudible, but still sufficient for Malfoy to understand. "Everything's fine, really." Jerking his head away, he tries removing his fingers away. "Eugh - Get your dirty stubs out of my mouth."

"What have you done with Mortimer?" He spoke. This time however was louder and frantic.

His panic went unnoticed as the room was entirely filled with the young's high pitch laughs and delighted cheers. "Right on my fist if you don't get away from me."

"You're not making any sense." Draco flares his nose at him. "One day, you act distant, cold - Barmy! Then, all of a sudden, you're just tip top and dandy. What's going on?"

He never thought about it, but lately he's noticed it too. The reason for it remained unknown, or maybe it was because he's kept up with his meditations. Each day he'd build his walls to protect his thoughts and so far, it's worked.

After a year and some months of hard work, countless trials, Mortimer believes he's reached a point where even the adults would have difficulty sneaking right through his mind. With the help of his amulet, it certainly made things easier for him. It was a harness of his family's power; he'll be damned if he were to give up on it now.

"Nothing, Draco." Mortimer replies, getting from the couch and walking to the dorm's, he looks back and smiles at him. "I'm going to change," Stretching the collar of his grey sweater. "I reek of Brown and that awful toxin she calls perfume."

A light laugh, he gave his departing words. "Light up a bit, won't you, Draco. You're starting to look like Snape."

Draco's fingers ran through his silver locks, moving it so strands fell across his forehead. The words were lost on his tongue, feeling confused and startled. Theo might've been onto something when he questioned where the real Mortimer was.

At dinner, Mortimer remained quiet and kept only to himself. Sharing a table with the students of Durmstrang, they eat a variety of English meals, with a combination of both Bulgaria and French deserts. For the most part, they talk and share a couple of laughs. Aside from that, it was quiet. From time-to-time Mortimer glance over to his friends, there was nothing unusually. They all seemed to be involved in their own conversations to notice him.

Unsurprisingly, and still annoyingly, Moody sat at the staff table, watching him with calculated precision. He can tell there is something on his mind - the stare was obvious. Part of him wanted to sneak in inside Moody's mind. Remembering the man was an ex-auror, the idea was immediately wiped and instead raised his shields to the max, and continues to eat, feeling no certain emotion when he takes a sip from his decorative cup.

"Augh -" Dropping his fork, it clanks on the side of his plate. Draco let's out a revolted noise. When Mortimer turns to him, he sees his cousin holding out a napkin. "Here, you're bleeding."

A questionable expression was cast. It was unexpected that Mortimer didn't immediately catch his words. After a couple of seconds, he takes the napkin. Draco said he was bleeding, the only place he could think of...

His nose.

Wiping it, he inspects the tissue and just like Draco said, he really was bleeding. It was a very strange occurrence since it hasn't happened in the last few years. Why was it happening now? He thought he'd outgrew it, believed it was caused by all the stress he was dealing with at the time.

Mortimer remembers bleeding at the quidditch cup as well, right before the strange man had summoned the dark mark in the sky.

"Are you ok, Mortimer?" Asked Pansy, doing her best to sooth him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm fine." Grumbling as he continues to dab his nose, trying to see if the bleeding had stopped. "Minor nosebleed."

"Minor?" Theo heckles at him from across the table, sitting next to Tracey, and with Daphne nowhere in sight. "You can fill a whole bucket with that bloody nose of yours."

"Didn't you use to get those?" Tilting her head, Tracey observes and takes note. "I thought they stopped."

He sighs and keeps the napkin in place. "I thought so too."

"Maybe we should get you to the hospital wing." His cousin recommended, setting his plate to the side, he appeared around, ready to get up. "It looks pretty bad."

Spending the night with Madam Pomfrey? No thank you. "It's not a big deal." He scowls with his congested voice. "I just need to add pressure is'all."

"Are you sure?" Chewing on her bottom lip, Tracey wasn't confident in his decision. "Maybe Draco is right." Sounding a bit concerned.

"I'm fine." Mortimer tries to persuade them from worrying. What he really wanted was for them to stop asking. "There's no need to fuss."

"The need to fuss is warranted, Black." Theo contorts his face as he tries not to drop his fork. "Tracey's right. You're going to get blood on the table.

He rises right out of his seat; he carefully avoids bumping against those sitting next to him. With his blood-soaked napkin, Mortimer lifts his chin up, bidding them goodbye. "I'm going to go lay down."

"Here, I'll go with you."

Mortimer stops Draco from moving further with one swift emotion of his hand. "I'm okay. Honest, Draco, i'm not dying, you know."

Draco didn't listen. Brushing Mortimer's hand back, he tugs on his shirt. "That's not funny." He scolds. By his tone, you could feel the seriousness eluding when his features straighten. "Let's get you back to the common room, and I don't want to hear anymore talking."

A warm grin caused by the concerned act; he soon follows Draco out of the great hall. "Anything for you dear cousin."

---

There was no sunlight to wake him when Draco's heavy eyes slowly open at a loud clunk. Shrouded in still darkness, he was at a lack for direction. He was about to drift back to sleep when sudden footsteps made him lift his head abruptly. Briefly registering a tall shadow figure, it takes him a while to register that it was Mortimer.

He thinks of his cousin's odd behavior over the past couple of weeks. He was altering between moods ever since the start of the term, he could be all smiles and giggles one day, then the next he could be cold, emotionless. Sure, he might've not have known him that long - It's not saying much either as he hardly knows him these days. Though, since meeting, there were a few distinguishes he's picked on.

Noting how quiet he was, Mortimer never minced words at anyone. He often hid himself to avoid contact with other people. He's rarely in crowds - only reason being Draco dragging him - and if one were to try and start up a conversation with him, you'd get short responses, followed by never ending silence. Worst of all, Mortimer will never tell you what's on his mind, he locks his secrets and will no doubt take them to his grave. You have to pry it out of him, even then, it is never a guarantee he'll tell you the entire truth.

It annoys him. But Draco doesn't blame him, not entirely. The foul old mudblood that did that to him certainly has made a huge impact on him. It was because of their kind, Mortimer is mess. It's scarred Black to the point that his own cousin had to be institutionalize for it.

Without getting into it, Mortimer is under constant observation by him. He doesn't trust him to keep himself out of trouble.

For that reason, Draco harshly starts blinking his eyes. "Mortimer? What are you doing?"

No answer, he watches Mortimer open the door, closing it shut. It was his cue to get up and so he does.

Grabbing his wand from a round end table near his bedside. He didn't care that he was in his trousers, but he also didn't want to walk around in them. Swift as he can, he runs to the coat racks and slips right into his robe.

Just as he was about to head out, he stops in his tracks. Swerving his agitated body to face the inhabited cage. The bloody snake standing right in the middle, it was awake the whole time, watching but never moving.

"You - " His low accusatorial voice, gently but firmly taps on the glass. "Aren't you supposed to be following him? What the bloody hell are you doing?" Another mystery that didn't make sense to him was Tobey's reluctance to get anywhere near his master.

It may sound ridiculous - speaking to a snake like a regular person? But in his defense, Tobey wasn't like any other worm you'd find at your backyard. No, no - he was more than that. To the unexpected, Tobey was smarter than anyone was led to believe. It was like he could actually understand what one was saying. Far stranger when he's made expression, sometimes you could even tell what he was feeling, if you look close enough.

So, when Draco asks him why he was still standing there, and the snake did not respond. Draco could tell Tobey's head wasn't here right now. The creature appeared lost in thought, his attention glued to the door where his master had left, the emotion Draco got off the thing was fear.

Forget the snake! He huffs and turns away. In the time it took him to tie his robe and go to the common room, the wall leading to the dungeons had already closed.

If he wasn't fully awake, running up the stairs and chasing around Black was sure to do the trick. Every corner Draco took, Mortimer was miles ahead. Draco wanted to scream his name out, but without waking up the entire school, hisses instead. No matter the sounds that Draco made to get him to listen, they were instantly ignored by Mortimer.

Draco would end up outside of the castle. Pushing the doors open, the bitter fall breeze made him recoil. It was dark, short of the frail lit lampposts, he was able to swiftly pace down each step until he was out of range, then he was overcome by darkness.

"Lumos." Draco whispered.

A shimmer from just the tip of his wand, guides him further to the school's ground. Tonight, the wind made sure to make its appearance. It holds nothing back, and the trees shivered violently as the moonlight beacons from above. Leaves had fallen and continued to do so, raining down on Draco as he ran across the pavement.

From a distance he could see Mortimer making his way towards the forbidden forest. What the hell is he doing there? As fast as his feet would allow him, Draco runs as if the consequences could be possibly tremendous if he isn't quick. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach told him to move, there was dread trailing his spine the farther Mortimer went. Draco nearly trips, stumbling from the annoyance of his cotton slip-on slippers. They weren't meant to be used to chase down sleepwalkers, nor were they going to help him run any faster.

Then again, it was either wearing slacken shoes or run barefoot.

Staggering it is.

Mortimer was getting fainter and fainter, Draco was slowly losing sight of him. He yells out for him, still his calls weren't acknowledged, and his worry grew because he was being led into the far depths of the dangerous forest. It was land unknown to him; the forest was a foul place. It was filled with disgusting bugs that pick at you whenever you're not looking. At don't let him get started on the dangerous beasts that were roaming around, hunting and waiting for their next meal.

And if he doesn't hurry, it will be him resting between the teeth of the next hungry beast waiting around.

There was no time to think, no time for these silly thoughts. Right now, he needed to focus on finding his stupid cousin.

Draco proceeds to make his way through the dense naked trees. As he runs, he carefully looks for any signs of a moving figure. The sound of rustling leaves coming from his fuzzy shoes doesn't help him, but the cries of birds filling the air certainly gave him a clue as where he could've gone. Creating a sharp turn, he follows the birds that were flying in the opposite direction.

Mortimer was nowhere to be seen.

Standing in the middle of nowhere, he starts to feel a sense of frustration and doubt creeping in, wondering perhaps he was mistaking it for something else. What if he's wrong? Then, he'd lose what he was trying to find - Answers. He needed answers. More importantly, he needs to find Mortimer.

He isn't in the right mind, Draco believes.

On top of that, he was certain it's long past midnight by now, it will be harder to sneak back into the castle. It was normally at this time all the ghosts would be walking the grounds.

Since the adrenaline of finding Mortimer had worn off, fatigue was catching up to him. Gripping his wand, he stops and leans against a nearby tree, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves.

When he finds Mortimer, he was going to thump him!

Glancing back out into the endless rows of trees. The noises of vibrating bushes have him darting his head to the side. Rabbit and chipmunks running away, it wasn't a good sign.

A feeling of unease settles in the pit of his stomach at their actions.

Thinking back to Mortimer's strange and eerie behavior. "What's going through that head of yours?" Whispering to himself, the image of his velvet eyes instantly brought chills to him.

Lifting his hand up, Draco lights up to continue on with the journey. Inhaling deeply, he treads into the tall bushes, squinting at an outline that slowly comes together the closer he got.

A figure draws nearer, and his breaths come in short, shallow gasps. Soon, Draco was able to see that it was Mortimer. He was facing the other direction, almost like he was taking on life within the light of the bright moon.

He wasn't sure what to expect next.

What he found made his body tense.

Near at the end of a high overhang hill, stands Mortimer, unmoving with his back turned to him. Draco wasn't sure if he even heard him walking from behind.

"Mortimer?" Draco calls, his voice low as the grip tightens around his wand.

He watches him for a few seconds in silence, his eyes widening as he realizes. "Mortimer, get away from there."

Mortimer was dangerously close to the edge. One step was all it took for his whole body to come tumbling down. Taking a nasty right into the ground of the hard surface, there was no way he'd survive without crushing his head.

"Mortimer, please..." The fear grips him tightly when he doesn't respond. "Whatever you're going through, you can talk to me. You know that don't you?"

He swallows thickly, unsure what to do next. He was only a couple feet away. Draco was scared to stretch out and grab him - What if he were to jump then? It wasn't a thought worth entertaining, nor was it something he was willing to risk doing.

The tension was clear, and he could feel his heart pounding inside his chest. "Stop screwing around, this isn't funny!" Draco's mind races with possibilities. Was he going to jump off? Why would he ever think of doing such a thing? Did he not care the pain his family would go through if he did?

Silver eyes dart left and right, searching for any reassurance and solution to stop Mortimer from jumping.

In a last ditch of effort, Draco takes a step forward, when Mortimer doesn't reply to his movement. Pointing his wand, he hopes he wasn't making a mistake by doing this. Draco took a deep, shaky breath and when exhales, he decides to take a few more steps.

Then, another.

Goosebumps rolling down his prickling flesh when he gets closer, causing his frantic heart to beat. Until, Draco was now six feet away, he could easily yank his back if he were to stretch his hand.

Just a little a closer and -

Like before, Draco just stood and stared, wide-eyed and petrified as a wave of purified horror washed along his entire body, tormenting his silver eyes from the inside, as if the image had already been placed in his head beforehand.

And so, Draco shouts out in panic.

Falling, Mortimer had let gravity take him down as he had finally jumped of edge.

An empty presence was all he needed to confirm what he was seeing had been real. But all he could do now was cry out his name and step forward in a trance-like state. His very bones were squirming in his flesh, he didn't want to look down - Didn't want to see the body of his cousin as expects to find an unmoving body, laying in his own pool blood.

Hypnotized, he steps in the edge and in the very moment, prepares himself for the unimaginable, he looks down.

For one moment to the next, relief washes over him, it was so overwhelming he had dropped down to his knees. Draco reaches out for it was as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. But when his eyes re-adjusted to what he had hoped was a terrible nightmare, became real.

Mortimer wasn't dead, he was very much still alive. He was in a laying position. What Draco had found confusing was his body had never made contact with the ground. Mortimer was floating, being carried by some invisible figure. Draco couldn't wrap his head around it; he couldn't explain.

Progressively, Mortimer was being lifted by something Draco couldn't see. However, he wasn't going to question it. Draco takes a several steps back as Mortimer ascends right up in the air, he was being moved. His eyes were blind to what it could've been that saved him, bit he could feel it, hear hooves walking and what sounded like wings flapping.

It went on for a minute until it stops, and Draco watched as Mortimer was gently dropped far away from the edge and left to rest by trees.

A gasp of relief came from his throat. He rapidly drops his wand. He shuffles towards him with awe and caution. Returning to the reality of it all, he threw himself over to Mortimer's motionless body.

At first, Draco doesn't touch him but inspects him for any injuries. Carefully, he touches his head and then lowering it to his neck, feeling for a sign.

A pulse.

Mortimer was still breathing.

Slumping his shoulders, Draco can finally faint. Yet before he does, his attention was caught by a curious thing. His head tilts when he found a glow around his neck. A curious thing pulls the chain that makes him want to hold the pendent with the embedded S in the middle. He looks between the amulet and Mortimer -

No, this wasn't the time for it.

His attention returns to Mortimer. "Mortimer, wake up." He hisses.

Now that he knew Mortimer was safe, he can finally start yelling. "Mortimer!" Shaking him by the collar of his shirt, he was still unresponsive.

Gritting his teeth, the rage starts coursing his veins. The very anger that had developed, he uses it give Mortimer one good slap right across his idiotic face.

"Ow!" Jerking his head away, Mortimer blinks his eyes and groans out. "Ugh, Draco! Whad'you do that for?"

Draco wanted to laugh in relief, he wanted yell at him for his stupidity. But more than that, he wanted to whack him upside his head. "For being an idiot!" He starts shaking his shoulder again. "You stupid fucking moron! What the hell were you doing? Huh? What is wrong with you?"

There was confusion in his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't insult me!" Draco sneers pushing him back, Mortimer sit up in disbelief. "I followed you here! I saw what you were going to do. I've never thought you'd. . ." Shutting his mouth, he couldn't even finish, couldn't imagine.

The air was cold and silent, two things that made atmosphere around them worse.

He couldn't even face him right now but heard Mortimer as he was clearing his throat. "Draco..." His cousin begins. "I don't know what this is about, but I'm telling you, I have no clue what you're talking about."

Rolling his eyes, Draco scoffs at him. "No, really!" Black said. "I remember you taking me back to our dorm and going to bed. After that..." Mortimer pauses, Draco peers at him waiting to hear the rest. "I wake up here -" His brows knit together as he appears to be trying to connect the pieces. "Draco, why am I here?"

Draco stared at his cousin down as if he was seeing him for the very first time in a while. His red eyes had begun to faintly appear, it made him uncomfortable, but he'd never tell him that. "I woke up and saw you standing by the door. I called you and you left. I followed you here and..." He was still at a loss, still trying to get an understanding. "You jumped."

"I jumped?" His eyes widen and disbelief was clear in his voice.

Nodding his head, Draco repeats. "You jumped." A stolen glance, Mortimer was rubbing the back of his head, frowning, He's never been more confused than he has now. "Mortimer, what's going on?" Draco had to shake his head for he was left disorientated from everything he's seen. "How did you manage to fly without a broom?"

Mortimer glances to side, and Draco does the same. However, the blond saw nothing but trees and a few bushes. "What?" He asks.

Black's velvet eyes were staring distantly. "There's a Thestral." He whispers.

Gazing around, Draco asks. "Where?"

Without looking at him, Mortimer points a weak finger.

Though when Draco goes to where he was pointing, he couldn't see anything. Draco was annoyed that he couldn't find it. He's heard of Thestrals before and heck, he's seen countless illustrations, but seeing it person?

Their association was a grim tale for those who have witnessed death. While still shocked, was not surprised that Mortimer could see such dark, eerie creatures.

Grasping at the implications, he questions. "You can see them?"

"Yeah, she's just..." Mortimer exhaled a shuddering breath. "standing there."

"She? How do you know she's a... she?"

"Luna showed me -" He pauses there shortly as if he was gathering his own thoughts. Having had enough of the cold floor, Mortimer makes an effort to get up, helping Draco along the way. "Forget it. Come on, let's go before we're caught."

Just as Mortimer was about head back, Draco puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from going further. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

How dare he insult him by pretending. Clenching his teeth."You know very well - Drop the act, I'm getting seriously annoyed."

Draco's patience wears thin as Mortimer sighs, seeming as though he had very little remorse. "And I already told you I have no idea what you're on about."

"You are going to tell me right now." He demands firmly, worry lacing his faint voice. "Or I swear, Mortimer, if you don't - I'm writing to mother."

The threat got his attention and to cool him off he tells him nonchalant. "Draco, it isn't a big deal."

A mistake, Draco instantly snaps. "Of course, it is!" He shouts. "What you did... it was unethical, vile... wrong! Selfish! How can you stand there and tell me it isn't a big deal. How can you make light of this? Don't you care?"

"I do -"

"Then stop brushing it aside and tell me." Draco shouts, stomping forwards until he was only an arm's length apart.

"If I knew what was happening, I would." Steadily he stopped himself, pondering at his own confusion. "It wasn't like this the first time - Perhaps I just ate a really bad piece of roasted potatoes - "

"Wait!" Aggressively, Draco raises a hand to stop. "You mean, this has happened before?"

"I probably shouldn't have said that..."

"Mortimer!"

"Alright! Fine." Mortimer blanched at his tone, equally shocked at his outburst. "This isn't the first time - Second, if I'm honest - " He sighs. "But I woke up before anything could really happen."

Draco's finger leveled with Mortimer's chest, threatening him. "Start talking."

A long sigh, Mortimer explains the previous incident that occurred, trimming a few details aside. He was asleep at the time, and by a strange force of nature, woke up in the dark forest.

There was no recollection or clue as to how he got there in the first place. Remembering it as if it were a dream, hearing it made it sound like it was make believe. He confesses Draco, cringing at the absurdity. Waking up from his dreamlike state, he finds himself standing in a small stream of water that led him to the edge of a waterfall.

This is the second time it has happened, and he had nothing to say that could explain it.

His body wanted to jump but his mind was taken aback once he realized the intention of where he stood.

All while Draco listened, his pale features change whenever Mortimer tell him about the centaurs that nearly attacked him. He went from grim to shock - Angry and surprised, Mortimer was not one to make up stories, not as crazy as these.

"Basically..." Mortimer said, finishing up his tale. "It's already happened before and I don't know why I woke over there and now, here. I wasn't lying when I said I don't know what happened."

"So then..." Draco puts in question, weary of asking him something personal. "You don't really... want to, you know?"

Kill himself?

Mortimer's wicked eyes almost pop at the suggestion. "What! No - " He shouts, startling Draco back. "I would never."

"Are you sure?" Draco carefully looks at him, dawning a sympathetic expression. "There's no shame in -"

"Don't - don't you start doing that." Mortimer snarled. "I am not crazy - Sure, I've had a lot of bad luck. But I'd never reduce myself into doing it."

Draco breathed a heavy sigh as his shoulder slumped, worn eyes watching his cousin whose pupils flared when he follows another question. "But you have thought of it, right?"

Taken a step back, Mortimer was in disbelief, his voice turns dark. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I..." Draco knows he should shut up. But these thoughts wouldn't let him rest until he got to the bottom of it. "I know you haven't had it easy - With your father... and everything else that's happened. It makes sense you'd feel a certain way -"

Cutting him off again, a sharp finger is raised, pointing it near Draco's chest. "Shut up - you don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe I do." His tone was challenging. "Have you ever thought it was you? You simply refuse to accept it because you're afraid to look weak. It's not a bad thing."

The environment grew eerily silent.

Draco watched as Mortimer began to walk towards the unleveled pathway to the forest. The snapping sounds of twigs and leaves was enough to shake him into action.

The blond frowned with a clenched jaw. "Where are you going?"

"The castle, where else am I supposed to go! Hackney?" There was an echo emitted across the air when he shouts, letting Draco know the distance.

"Hey! Wait for me!' Draco hisses at Mortimer, getting to feet. It's remarkable he was able to catch up to Mortimer so quickly, he sure to lose him again at the speed they were walking.

Draco doesn't bother asking anymore questions as he follows Mortimer through the woods. He was given the silent treatment, holding his breath as the wind continued to blow against their shivering bodies.

The two of them move swiftly but silently through the forest, walking against piles upon piles of leaves, spreading throughout the earthy ground. As they journeyed further, Draco couldn't help but feel frustrated with Mortimer's presence. He's never felt so alienated. He doesn't trust him, and his unexpected appearance seems so out of place, it wasn't something Draco could easily ignore. The signs of Mortimer's mental state were concerning to say the least.

Draco trails on autopilot memories of their previous self's surface his mind. The right thing to do would be to write to mother and tell her everything. However, didn't think he could, not without betraying Mortimer, who trusted him enough to divulge into his past, it was something only he knew and no one else.

Was it wrong of him to feel privileged?

Here he was, the son of the dark lord.

Tormented by some old mudblood.

Sent away to live with the other crazies.

The whole world would have a field day of they knew.

Which is why Draco couldn't let word spread. He was Mortimer's confident, partner, a friend...

Family.

Or at least, he thought they were.

He knows Mortimer's secrets, strengths, and weaknesses, they shared everything.

But now, ever since they've arrived, Mortimer has changed. He couldn't specifically point where it was coming from, only that it was not the real him. He'd get weird sensations, they felt like warnings, telling him to be careful.

"What's that?" Mortimer stops to whisper.

"What's what?" Draco murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.

"Did you hear that?"

Sticking out his ear, Draco concentrates by muting nature's sounds.

There was a loud screech, followed by a breathing roar. The various bawls grow louder and more distinct the more they listened.

"What do you think could be possibly making those noises?" Draco wearily asks, whipping out his wand.

Mortimer was distracted by the strange sounds, unable to immediately respond. "They almost sound like..."

---

"Dragons!" Harry breathes out frantically, slamming his hand on the desk. "They're having us fight bloody dragons!"

All while Mortimer is sitting in one of the empty tables of the backend of the library. He was in the middle of writing his herbology assignment, when Harry came running in, he could tell by the sweat beading down his right temple.

He smiles at Harry before gently closing his textbook. Clearing his throat, he puts his elbows on the table, letting his head rest on his palms, his eyes couldn't have gotten anymore brighter. "I'm all ears, Potter."