SIRIUS BLACK'S LONG LOST BROTHER RETURNS

Everyone in Britain wizarding world knows the story of the Black Brothers. It wasn't a secret that while the oldest, Sirius Black, became an Auror, his little brother Regulus joined Voldemort's Death Eaters. Their former class mates remembered that though they never openly showed hatred toward each other, it was safe to say that the Brothers weren't very close. When Regulus disappeared not long after the announcement of Sirius' engagement to Marlene McKinnon was made, the Heir to the Black fortune gave no comment about it. It was presumed that the younger Black died, though the cause of his death was unknown. Thirteen years after his disappearance, Regulus came back from the 'dead' and went to see his brother. On February 19, both Black brothers held a press conference about his return to a select few of reporters. (continue to page 15)

Ever since the morning papers came, Harry was ambushed with questions from almost every Gryffindor about the news of Regulus Black's return. The one question that they always asked was whether Regulus was an evil person. The question irked Harry because for one, he hadn't even met the guy so how the hell was he going to answer that? For another, he was getting sick of people nosing into his and his family's problem. Harry understood that technically, everyone had believed in his family when it came to defeating Voldemort. But it didn't mean it wasn't annoying when he had people asking him constantly about his Godparents, or bloody reporters following him and his family around when they went out to public. Therefore, he was very glad that he had his father's Cloak with him because it helped him to go around the castle unseen. A part of him knew that he shouldn't use the Cloak so carelessly, lest anyone would find out, but he had no choice. At least, Ron and Hermione were willing to cover for him. Being the good friends that they were, not only they didn't pester him with questions, both Ron and Hermione also helped him to get under or out of the Cloak without anyone seeing him. At the moment though, Harry was alone because they had made up a story that they were going to meet him at the library, when actually, Harry was going back to the Common Room. Seeing that it was dinner time, the majority of Hogwarts was either back at their own Common Room or at the Hall having dinner. So, after quite some time of internal debate, Harry took off the Cloak and sort of skipped his way to the Gryffindor Tower.

Except he should have known that being him, nothing ever went as planned.

"Potter! Hey, Potter! Potter, wait up!"

Grunting in exaggeration without turning back, Harry snapped, "Yes, it appears that my Godfather's brother is back. And no, I don't know whether he is evil. I haven't met the guy at all, seeing that he came when I got back here after the holidays. Anything else you want to know?"

"Wow, Scarhead, thank you for the detailed information on my mother's cousin that I already know," the person drawled in a familiar monotone voice that Harry hadn't heard since the holidays back at the home.

"Malfoy," Harry said, finally turning back to look at the blond who cocked an eye brow at him.

"Potter," Draco Malfoy replied, his face as devoid of emotion as his tone was. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About the Sorcerer's Stone."

Harry froze upon hearing Draco's answer. No one was supposed to know about the Stone – no one but him and his family. Well, he himself wasn't supposed to know about it. It was only because he was incredibly curious that his Godfathers finally relented in telling him about the Stone. Since the night Voldemort lost his body (must not think about his parents), the evil wizard had tried many times to find a way on getting his corporeal form back. It was several years prior, back when Harry was only six, that Dumbledore was alerted to the fact that Voldemort was hunting the Stone. The old man quickly told his friend Nicolas Flamel about Voldemort's plan, and they both agreed that for safekeeping, the Stone should be hidden somewhere Voldemort would least expect it. That was how Harry's family was involved. One night, Sirius came back home holding a pouch in his hand, went to the cellar of the Manor, and specifically instructed all of the Elves to never touch the chest where he kept the pouch. It took a lot of nagging fromMarlene and Dorcas for Sirius and Remus to tell them what they were hiding in the cellar, to which Harry had listened in on when his Godparents thought he was asleep. Then, the night before Harry would go to Hogwarts, Dumbledore came to the Manor and told Sirius that there were words about Voldemort finding out that the Stone was with Sirius. The Headmaster decided that he would keep the Stone at Hogwarts, lest Voldemort would target the inhabitants of the Black Manor. Before Harry went to Hogwarts, both sets of his Godparents warned him explicitly that he was not to tell anyone about it, or they'd take away his Nimbus 2000.

And now Malfoy of all people knew about the Stone.

"Who told you about the Stone?" Harry said slowly, eyeing his enemy closely.

(But was he really the enemy?)

"No one," Malfoy said solemnly. "I will tell you about it, but we can't talk here. For all I know, he could have ears everywhere."

"Fine, where do you want to talk about?"

Glancing at the door to the empty classroom not far from where they were, Malfoy beckoned Harry to follow him. Once inside, the blond went around the room, as if to make sure there would be no chance of anyone overhearing their conversation. He made a small nod to himself when he was satisfied with his assessment, before turning his attention to Harry. He let out a heavy sigh, his cheeks puffing out a little like chimpmunks, and for the first time since Harry knew the Slytherin, only then that he realised how the both of them were only children.

"I know your Godfather used to have the Stone with him back at your home," Malfoy started. "I know about it because my father followed him to your cellar when he was at Black Manor. It was that one time Father helped Auror Black when he got seriously injured. Hence why he didn't realise my father had followed him into the cellar. It if weren't because of that, it would have been impossible."

Harry remembered that day. He was ten years old, and Sirius came back home with nasty wound under his right ribs and was helped by Lucius Malfoy. He just got back from a Sacred meeting that was held in Dundee, at one of the many properties Sirius had, and he was attacked by some Death Eaters on the way back. Marlene was so sure that it was Lucius who had attacked Sirius, and if it wasn't Sirius himself who had convinced them otherwise, his Godmother would have probably killed Lucius right then and there. Sirius didn't wait until Dorcas had properly healed his wounds when he dashed off to the cellar. Later, when Harry was eavesdropping on Sirius' conversation with Remus, he found out that the Death Eaters that attacked him had mentioned the Stone and how they'd never hesitate on hurting his family to get it.

"Did your father tell you about the Stone?" Harry asked. He couldn't help the little grin on his face when Malfoy scoffed and pouted petulantly like the child they all were.

"Of course not," Malfoy huffed. "I had to sneak into his study to listen in on the conversation he had with my mother… But, anyway, now that I've answered your question, I'm going to tell you what I just overheard yesterday between Snape and Quirrel."

Harry blinked. He had never liked the Potions Master, and he'd always known for a long time from Sirius that Quirrel was not to be trusted. He knew that Snape hated his father because he loved his mother.But, before he could make accusations against Snape, Malfoy had continued hastily. "It's not Snape, Potter. Trust me, it's not him. Snape tried to scare Quirrel, I swear."

"How can you be so sure?" Harry said sceptically, crossing his arms together.

Malfoy was silent for a moment, tilting his head to the side in a way that was so familiar to Harry. It took him awhile to realise that he'd seen the gesture on Sirius many times. Running a hand through his platinum locks, he said, "No one knows about this, but Severus Snape is my Godfather, and we're actually pretty close. There are things he's told me about himself that I can't tell you about them. But believe me when I say that there are some days when I trust the man more than I do my own father."

There was something from the way Malfoy talked that made Harry believe him; like what happened back during the holidays. In the back of his mind, Harry recalled the lone white tulip Marlene found in Sirius' office, along with a small note that said 'sorry for what he did' in an elegant hand-writing that looked much too familiar in Harry's eyes. Looking at the blond in front of him, Harry felt a sense of something other than the usual hatred he felt toward Malfoy. It was almost felt like gratitude, along with something else, especially when he remembered that the boy had saved his best friend after all. He supposed it wouldn't take long for him to finally be more civil toward Malfoy after all the Slytherin had done.

(Harry tried hard not to imagine the blush on Hermione's face whenever he caught her eyeing the blond.)

"What did you hear from Snape?" Harry said. "I presume Quirrel's the villain here, since we're definitely ruling out Snape. So, what's the loon going to do?"

"I think he's going to try to steal the Stone tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"Because, from what McGonagall told me this morning when I tried to see Dumbledore, our dear Headmaster is not at school."

"What is that git doing with you?"

Hermione was about to reprimand Ron for talking really loudly in the library, when she saw who was with Harry. She had begun to consider glasses for herself because it couldn't be Draco Malfoy walking beside her best friend. What shocked her even more was the fact that both boys looked pretty civil, both of their wands were peacefully tucked inside their pockets. Ever since her first day at Hogwarts, Hermione had witnessed Harry and Malfoy going at each other with worrying consistency. It was like every morning, all they could think about was to either yell names at each other, or to initiate amateur duel. So, in the end, she kept herself from reprimanding Ron's loudness because she too was shocked to see what she saw.

"Malfoy's going to tell us about something," Harry said shortly, nodding at the Pureblood to continue. She felt him threw a vague glance at herself, before he launched into explanation.

He took fifteen minutes to relay what he just told Harry, and the whole time, Hermione couldn't stop herself from staring like a foolish girl. The boy was such an odd mystery. Ever since he saved her from the troll, he had stopped teasing her. In fact, he'd avoided her all together. When they were unfortunate enough and were paired together for school work, he kept his conversation to a minimum. Hermione had always wondered why the Slytherin was acting so weird. She remembered the boys telling her about the time Malfoy came to Harry's home; how he looked so lost when Ron questioned him why he had saved Hermione, how he looked so guilty at the revelation of his father poisoning Harry's Godmother. According to a lot of people, the Malfoys functioned rather like a robot. Ron had many times remarked that they didn't have a heart, and as a result, the Malfoys were also incapable of feeling. But what Malfoy did was the exact opposite of what everyone always said about him and his family.

And now he was going to help them save the day.

At first, Hermione straight out refused to join Harry and his plan to stop Quirrel. But it was her curiosity and thirst of knowledge that got convinced her give Malfoy a chance after she heard him mentioning the Sorcerer's Stone. Hermione had read about it in one of the books she borrowed in the library for a little bit of light reading ("Shut up, Ronald," she spat when Ron gave her a funny look.). So, against her better judgement, just an hour before midnight, she waited for Harry and Ron in front of the girl's dormitory. When the boys finally came out, they wasted no time and headed out of the Common Room, where they knew Malfoy had been waiting for them. Unfortunately for them though, there was already someone else waiting for them with Malfoy.

"Neville?" Hermione called, carefully taking a step toward her first friend at Hogwarts (Malfoy didn't count, Mione.).

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, sounding a great deal relieved. He was aiming his wand at Malfoy, who merely cocked an eye brow at the other boy. "Oh, thank Merlin you guys are here! We have to report Malfoy to a professor. I was looking for Trevor in the Common Room when I heard him harassing the Fat Lady."

"I was harassing the fat pig?" Malfoy spat, ignoring the shouts of indignant coming from the Fat Lady herself. "You got it all wrong, Longbottom. She was the one who started yelling when I merely stood here waiting for your idiot friends."

Malfoy's response seemed to shock Neville because the boy actually looked away Malfoy and turned to his fellow Gryffindors. He set his eyes on Harry first, those eyes asking for explanation from the green-eyed boy. Sighing, Hermione noticed Harry discreetly reached for his wand as he said, "I'm really sorry for this, Neville, but I have to do this."

"Do wha – "

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Harry!" Hermione reprimanded her friend. "I can't believe you just attacked Neville!"

Before Harry could defend himself though, it was Malfoy who spoke in his defence. "Granger, you know Potter's got no choice, right. We have to stop Quirrel before it's too late, and Longbottom here was slowing us. Now, why don't you put away your guilt and get going?"

She knew that the blond was right. But, even as she followed them all to the third floor, where Dumbledore had warned them to stay away from, she couldn't shake the look on Neville's face upon realising that Harry had just attacked him. She tried to shrug it aside though, aware that she needed to focus. It was right on time for her to focus her thoughts because, when the four of them got into the secret door they saw Filch spent hours standing in front of, they were met with the sight of Hogwarts' own Cerberus. Lucky for them though, because the three-headed-dog was asleep, thanks to the harp playing not far from the beast. They saw the opened trap-door and quickly jumped inside, sliding all the way on the longest ride of slide Hermione had ever got on in her life, and landed on top of something hard and slippery. It looked like gigantic roots with the colour as dark as tar, and it went all over the dungeon where they landed.

"Good thing there's good cushioning down here," Ron said with a small smile. Hermione was about to agree when she heard both Harry and Malfoy yelped.

"Bloody hell, this is not good," Harry muttered, his eyes were wide opened as he looked around. Beside her, Malfoy nodded his head urgently.

"Granger, quick; make a bright light," Malfoy commanded as he got his own wand out of his pocket. And of course, it offended Hermione.

"Excuse me?" she said, her tone a tad higher than its usual pitch. "Who do you think you are, ordering me around, you arrogant – "

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat when she felt the branches around her started to wrap tightly around legs. Warning bells rang in her head, and she soon recognised that they had landed on top of a lair of Devil's Snare. She felt her brain whirring fast in her head, trying to remember the spell on creating a bright light like Malfoy said because starting a fire would just kill them all. The incantation left her mouth at the same time it left Malfoy's, and the next thing she knew, they fell through the Snares and onto a hard concrete floor. Quite comically, Harry landed on top of Ron, who grunted in both pain and annoyance. Hermione would have laughed if she could, but she herself had a rather hard landing and would have lost her footing if it wasn't for the hand catching her from falling. Her heart froze when she realised whose hand it was. She didn't have to look back to know that it was Malfoy's hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?" Malfoy said softly, so unlike the boy who had teased all those months ago, who had called Harry all kinds of names.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hermione quickly said, unintentionally pushing his hand off her. She tried hard not to flinch at the hurt that crossed his pale face.

"Hey, Malfoy," Harry called, his head poking from behind a wall. "Come and check this out."

"Alright," the blond answered curtly and walked ahead of Hermione to where Harry was.

As she got to where her friends were, she heard a thousand fluttering of wings before she saw the bird. But later, she realised that they weren't birds. They were actually keys – hundreds of them. In the middle of the room, not very far from where they were standing, there was a broom floating, as if ready to be ridden. Hermione didn't have to be the genius that she was to know that their next task was to go get the right key so they could open the door just across the room. The problem would be to determine which key was the right one. Much to everyone's surprise, it was actually Ron who pointed out that the right key must be the only silver key with the broken wing, definitely because it was just gripped tightly as it was used. Harry didn't waste time and got on the broom so he could get the key. It took him flying all around the room for quite sometime, chased by the other keys, until he finally got the key. He then threw it into Malfoy's hand so he could open the door. The other keys were flying after Harry like angry birds, and went they slammed the door right behind Harry after he got in, the sound of the thousand keys against the door reminded Hermione of machine gun.

"That was brilliant, Harry," Ron panted, a little out of breath like the rest of them was. "Good thing you were the youngest Seeker for nothing. Those keys were going to kill us!"

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said with a smile. Clapping a hand on his friend's back, he said, "Come on. We still haven't found Quirrel."

They continued their journey with Harry on the front and Malfoy on the back while Ron and Hermione on the sides. Hermione couldn't help but to feel as if that would be their assigned battle positions. She looked at the three boys and realised that the four of them completed each other as a group. Looking at Harry, she wondered briefly whether the late James Potter had the same determined look on his face like his son did. After a few minutes of walking, they got into a huge chamber where the torches around them quickly began to lit one by one. The moment the last torch was lit, her eyes widened slightly at the life-sized chess pieces around them, set as if they were ready to be played. Glancing at Ron, she noticed, for the first time since they got under the trap-door, there was a small glint in Ron's blue eyes. It was obvious that Ron was excited, seeing that this was something of his expertise. He then asked one of the black knights standing not far for him whether they had to join and became chess piece to cross the chamber. When the knight nodded, a contemplative look crossed his freckled-face.

"Hm, I see…" Turning to Malfoy with a small frown, he said, "You can play chess, right? And rather good at that, according to your mates."

"Weasley, I'm not going against you today," Malfoy said. "Yes, I can play chess, and maybe I'm rather good. But I'll leave this to you. Do whatever you think is best."

The look of gratitude on Ron's face was so genuine, Hermione couldn't help herself but to grin along with Ron. Nodding his head, the readhead said, "Alright, then. Well, Harry, you take the bishop's place. Hermione, you're rook. And Malfoy, you're the queen."

When Harry and Ron snorted a laugh, Malfoy scowled and said, "Oh ha ha, very funny, Ginger Weasel. I'm starting to regret my decision now."

"Hush up, Malfoy," Hermione said, sensing an upcoming argument. She was expecting the blond to argue her, and was completely caught of guard when he merely pouted.

"Sorry for that, Malfoy. But I expect you to be a better player than Harry. So, if it turns out I fail, you'll have to take my place," Ron said, his tone was serious this time.

"What are you going to be then?" Harry asked. Ron shrugged and stepped toward the horse piece.

"I'm going to be a knight," Ron answered. It seemed like the pieces heard what he said because the bishop, the rook, the knight and the queen they were replacing quickly moved out of the board. "Right, everything's set. White always goes first. Yeah…"

A white pawn took two steps forward. Ron began to move around other pawns, and they all moved just like he told them to. Hermione was suddenly struck with the realisation that in Wizard's Chess, the losing pieces weren't only tossed aside like the Muggle chess she used to play with back at home. No, in Wizard's Chess, they bludgeoned the losing piece to smithereens. A cold shiver of fear trail down her spine at the thought. What if they lost? And when she got a look on the three boys' faces, all of them who were better chess players than she was, she knew that they thought about the same thing. Their first hit was when the remaining black knight was literally slain by the white queen, and Hermione noticed how her companions looked pretty shaken up. She lost count how many times she screamed when the black pieces on their side were destroyed, especially when she saw a pawn was thrown aside violently and nearly knocked Malfoy. From where she was standing, she realised that Ron was trying his best not to move them around too much, for fear that the white pieces would target them. Malfoy, being the queen, he was the one who was targeted many times, and a lot of times the blond had to crouch when other pieces Ron had placed to protect him was taken out. It was several minutes after the other black rook was knocked by the last remaining white knight, that Malfoy, who had been silent the whole time, lost in his own thoughts even when he nearly got killed by a flying debris, finally made a sound.

"Don't do it, Weasley!" Malfoy yelled. "I know what you're planning to do. Don't do it."

"Oh no…" Harry muttered, seeming like he finally followed on Ron's plan. "He's right, Ron. Please, don't do it."

"Do what?" Hermione insisted, confused. "What he's planning to do?"

"He's going to sacrifice himself," Malfoy said stiffly. Hermione's eyes widened in epic proportions.

"Ron, that is insane!" she said. "You cannot – "

"Do you want to stop Quirrel or not?" Ron snapped impatiently. "This has to be done, Hermione."

"Yes, but there must be another – "

"No, there isn't," Ron interjected. "They have to get me, or they will get Malfoy. And trust me Hermione, when they get Malfoy, they will win."

"But – "

"Malfoy, once I'm done, you're free to checkmate the king. And no more arguing about this with me. We don't have anymore time."

"Okay then," Harry said in the end in a strong voice, but there was no hiding the slight shaking in his right hand. "Malfoy, you heard him. Don't do anything stupid."

Malfoy nodded his head to both boys. Satisfied, Ron turned his attention to the white queen. He took a deep breath, and began to walk toward it. When the queen hit Ron's head really hard, Hermione had half a mind to go after him. But she realised they were still playing, so she kept herself still and set her eyes on Ron, hoping that the blow wasn't hard enough to cause permanent damage. Then she heard Malfoy took a step forward, and another, and another, and another, until he was standing right in front of the king. Letting out a shuddering breath but yet managing a voice that was loud and clear, the blond said, "Checkmate."

The white king threw its crown at Malfoy's feet. They had won. All at once, the rest of the pieces gave them a bow before stepping away from the board and headed toward the door that was no longer guarded. Being the closest, Malfoy was the first one who reached Ron even before Harry or Hermione. Putting a finger on Ron's pulse point, Malfoy sighed in relief, which meant a good sign to Hermione. He then proceed on checking Ron's head for any possible head wound. He found none, and again, he breathed in relief.

"He's alright," Malfoy said. "But we do have to go now though. Quirrel might have gotten the Stone by now."

"I'll stay with him," Hermione said out of the blue. "I just… I don't feel right leaving him alone here."

"Alright, we'll go then," Harry said, giving her a grateful smile. Hermione knew that he too didn't want to leave Ron all alone. "Come on, then, Malfoy. It's just you and me."

Hermione watched the two boys, polar opposites of each other, walked side by side to stop evil from winning. She could hear their voices arguing though, and she assumed they weren't that far. She was just trying to move Ron to somewhere saver, when she heard a loud familiar roar that still haunted her dreams. Her heart felt like stopping, especially when there were loud shouts coming from both Harry and Malfoy. Her whole body was trembling as she held onto Ron's unconscious form, praying so bad that the troll wasn't coming to get her. The grounds around her felt like shaking, and she heard unmistakable snaps of spells whipping out from wands. Then, what she heard next, was sure to traumatise her for at least the next few months to come.

"Potter, move out of the way!"

"Malfoy, no!"

Hermione let out a scream when she saw Malfoy flying across the room, colliding against the wall rather violently. She had no idea which one was her voice and which one was Harry's when she saw the troll advancing toward Malfoy. Before she could realise what she was doing, she had left Ron and was running toward the Pureblood, yelling for him to wake up. It was almost impossible for her to believe it, but Malfoy did wake up. Groggily but with determination flaring in his grey eyes, he stood up and looked defiantly at the troll. Pointing his wand at the high ceiling, he yelled the last spell Hermione expected him to say.

"Bombarda!"

"Draco!