Mo Chridhe

Chapter 13

September made way for October, and the temperature began to plummet. They were in the Scottish Highlands, so it was pretty much the norm here. Two weeks ago, when Marcus and Harry mentioned Sirius Black's name, he had excused him and left immediately. He felt guilty for the trauma he was likely putting Harry through, hence why he'd left as quickly as possible. He hadn't returned to his own quarters until well after curfew when he knew the Potter heir wouldn't be there.

Some people would have said it was cowardice, but there was one thing Severus wasn't and that was it. The depth of emotions he felt for Black…it's not something he wanted Harry to endure. He'd already put up with so much hatred, anger and disgust all his life. He'd felt everything Harry felt in that house when he went there to get them to sign the adoption contract.

The feelings alone had been enough to change him on a fundamental level. What on earth could his bitterness do to Harry? No, he deserved better, and he did not want to test whether Marcus' grounder (yes, he knew that's what he was now) abilities could withstand the feelings coursing through him. He was such a cheerful boy considering what he'd been through. Whether it was just the newness or lack of oppressing hatred and spite following him everywhere was unknown.

-Flashback-

Severus opened the door to his quarters, relieved to be back. Expecting everything to be tided up as per usual. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case today at all. Marcus was still in his quarters, which was the last thing he really wanted. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, he just wanted to go to bed and sleep. "Marcus, it's after curfew, return to your common room," he asked of the wizard.

"I will, I just need you to read this," Marcus declared, finger tapping at the information Harry had accumulated. He was actually impressed with the boy's ability to get information. "I swear the kid was meant to be in Slytherin."

"Given what he's been through, I am just as surprised," Severus said with a tired grimace that was a failed attempt as a smile. "What is it?" suspecting he already knew, but at least he could have his emotions churn in private and not forced upon the child. No, this was meant to be his safe heaven, he'd never take that away from him.

"Did you know Black never got a trial?" Marcus asked bluntly.

Severus froze, his mind automatically trying to flip through the last decade trying to make sense of it. Surely, there had been a trial, there was no way they would lock up the heir – the only male heir – of an ancient and noble house, they wouldn't dare.

Severus swallowed thickly, the realisation dawning that it was true. There hadn't been any talk of a trial, and as far as he knew each trial had taken up the majority of the newspapers articles those days. He could recall all his old friends trials, but no talk of Sirius Black. There was only one obvious exception, was when they spoke about his alleged crimes. No trial, no confirmation of his guilt.

"I'll believe it." He eventually told Marcus, "However, regardless of trial or not, he's guilty." It wasn't difficult for him to imagine it. Sirius Black had almost killed him when they were both just teenagers, sixteen-years-old. If he could do that…well, frankly given the rest of the Black's, it truly wasn't a difficult concept to accept.

Marcus leaned forward, "But what if he wasn't and it was all a deliberate attempt?" his suspicious Slytherin mind coming up with ideas that even he didn't want to think about let alone stomach.

Severus' eyes narrowed, his own mind doing math he'd rather not. "You believe Dumbledore ensured he remained incarcerated in Azkaban without trial? To what end? He's guilty."

"You'd think, if this is a plan of Dumbledore's then clearly—" he trailed off with a seriously grim look upon his face.

"Dumbledore thought him innocent." Severus finished, grimacing, if, and it was a big if, Black was innocent it was revolting to think anyone could sentence him to that hell on earth. Dumbledore was…rather shady sometimes but never outright nefarious. Unless he'd just never been caught. "I'm not sure what I would prefer." A sneer dominating his features as he thought on the old fool and Black.

"If he wasn't Harry's godfather—" Marcus grumbled out, "I wouldn't think twice about it."

"Why exactly are you both interested in this and again why?" Severus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Not both of us," Marcus refuted, "Harry,"

Severus moved and sat down, sighing softly, grateful for the support. His body ached something fierce. "What is his interest in this?"

"Answers," Marcus answered simply, "For the past ten years he's been operating under the illusion his parents were unemployed louts who died in a car crash. Nothing else was ever mentioned, just degrading names for his parents. Truthfully, I don't blame him for wanting answers to everything surrounding him. Especially someone who was supposed to look after him."

Severus sent Marcus an enquiring look, not quite understanding.

"Black went after Pettigrew leaving Harry on his own to do it," Marcus commented, "Harry wants to know why…I tried to tell him he wouldn't like the answer regardless but he's determined." Handing over the copy of all the information Harry had collected.

"You'd think someone who understood people on a level that's unparalleled would get it." Marcus added after a few seconds of silence. Still, it was up to Harry, if this was what he wanted to do, then he'd help him do it.

"He's been very, sheltered is the wrong word but also the correct one." Severus mused, "All he's known is a specific set of emotions. Those he will know like the palm of his hand, but as he grows he'll begin to understand more emotions and levels of intensity."

Marcus scoffed; specific set of emotions was right.

"I wished he didn't want to go down this road," Severus sighed, "Guilty or innocent he still left his one-year-old godson to get revenge and that is –" there wasn't a word in the English vocabulary, he left his bloody one-year-old godson to get revenge, after only promising a year before to protect him at all costs, to put his life first and foremost. To cherish him. He was given blind trust by Lily and Potter in the event of need or necessity. They had died for him; in what world did Black consider what he did was right?

Marcus nodded, "I know, I doubt even Bellatrix would have done what he did." Children came first before all else, and to be given the honour of being the heir, one day Lord's godfather? It was unfathomable to him, hell to the entire magical world. It's partly why they have no qualms about believing him guilty. Trying to cover up and get rid of anyone who could point fingers at him.

They might all be wrong though.

"Return to your dorm, get some sleep," Severus urged the young wizard. He'd need to give them the books he'd been entrusted with. Unfortunately, he didn't have as much free time as he'd like, along with getting enough sleep so not to bite his students heads off. So, he'd been reading them rather slowly, getting a real sense and understanding on just what Harry was going through regarding his abilities.

An empath was no easy ability, and there were no shortcuts to aid him.

The fact Harry had somehow met his grounder just a single day back in the magical world was a miracle.

It was also a very, very good thing indeed. Harry wouldn't have survived Hogwarts, especially if she hadn't been able to survive being tutored and then attending a small school. She'd needed constant alone time, he could only imagine how he was really feeling amongst the Hogwarts population.

Or perhaps the fact he had his grounder was the reason he was able to do so?

He was grateful he'd never have to know.

Well, at least for four years anyway, he thought bleakly, Marcus' education would finish long before Harry's. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.

"Goodnight, Sir," Marcus said, before he silently – for such a big growing wizard – vacated Professor Snape's rooms.

Severus sighed, staring at the file before placing it on his table. He didn't want to read any more of that right now. No, he was going to read the journals, to ensure they were…child safe for an eleven-year-old.

-End Flashback-

Harry loved every moment of being at Hogwarts truly. It was far better than being in pain and catering to the Dursley's every whim and being forced to cook and clean for them. Most of all he was very pleased to be so far away from Vernon Dursley's violent hands. Petunia was violent as well, but she rarely actually lifted her hand (or weapon of choice) to hit him. She got far more pleasure of threatening Harry with Vernon and letting him punish Harry for existing.

The best thing of all for the eleven-year-old was the quiet. Oh, Hogwarts could be seriously overwhelming most of the time. It was filled with hundreds of teenagers, so of course it would be. However, when he got to spend time with Marcus? Blessed silence, it was the best feeling ever.

He got to see Marcus every single night, even if he did have to keep it quiet. Harry still didn't truly understand why, even if he'd been told. However, the emotions conveyed more than words ever could to him. The idea of it being known caused both Marcus and Professor Snape to be petrified. So, he didn't bring it up again.

Some of his classes were better than others. Such a history of magic, his professor was a ghost! A ghost of all things. His voice was so lulling that he'd watched many of his fellow classmates succumb to sleep. Now while you were asleep, your emotions were muted, which left Harry nigh on exuberant. Well, except for Ron, who was very emotional, especially for an eleven-year-old. He felt everything very deeply. Harry wasn't sure that was a good thing. Dudley had been the same but with far more violent tendencies he'd gotten from both his parents.

"Too bad I don't have a miniature chess set," Ron said morosely, from where he sat at his desk with Harry. "We could have played!" staring half lidded at the ghost professor in utter boredom. He'd gotten so much sleep last night that he wasn't even really tired, and that said a lot. Since his mum let him sleep in every day before Hogwarts.

"I'm no good at it anyway" Harry said, "But I do like the look of Gobstones!" it's why Harry always encouraged the other Gryffindors in their year to play him. Although, their enthusiasm was dying out, Ron was unbeatable. So, he was having to almost badger someone to play him.

Ron grimaced, "Ugh, foul smelling game," he said shaking his head.

"Smells like stinksap, a plant," Neville agreed from where he was behind them, elaborating for Harry. It was weird he'd grown up knowing about Harry, but Harry hadn't known a thing about magic. "I think I have an old set that I packed, I'll have a look tonight, then we can play?" it was a question rather than a statement, Neville was still finding his feet.

Harry immediately said, "I can't wait!" as overwhelming as being with everyone was…he didn't want to be lonely anymore. Now, Neville, he was lonely, just like many of the students in this class was. He didn't feel remotely bad about suffusing a tiny bit of confidence in Neville either.

Neville grinned, before facing the front, happiness setting up shop inside of both him and Harry.

"One particular goblin rebellion that took place in 1612, was in the vicinity of Hogsmeade Village; one of the local inns was used as the wizard headquarters for the rebellion…which in history has been considered the most bloody of battles by the Daily Prophet in its time. During that rebellion, three wizarding minsters either resigned, given a vote of no confidence or stepped down…those three Minister's names are on the board…remember their names as they will be mentioned in the exams…and those names are…" and the hour-long period continued on, right up until the class bell went, giving them no time to get to their next class. However, everyone was used to Binn's not letting the students out until the bell rang and made do.

Ergo, nobody got in trouble, even if that next class happened to be potions.

"Remembering all those names and dates isn't going to be easy," Harry commented idly as he stood. There was a poster filled with dates and goblins names across the room, that got his attention. Maybe if he wrote all the dates down, he could memorise them? He was almost there, reading them as he moved.

"Harry! Come on!" Ron said, protectiveness suffusing him, grasping Harry's arm suddenly and urging him away from the Slytherin side of the room. "We have potions, we'll go together!" still protectively urging him from the History of magic classroom. Grumbling in irritation, stupid twins, he was sure it was them. They'd used a spell to rip the seams of his bag, now he was having to carry his books and ink box. Which held black ink and three quills to last him all year, and all second hand and in various sizes. Hopefully Percy could fix it up for him, although, he hated asking his brother for anything.

"Ron…what's the matter with you?" Harry asked, craning his neck trying to see what was causing Ron to be so worried and protective. All he could see were students, just like them.

"You don't want to be close to them, they're evil," Ron said vehemently, believing it with every fibre of his being.

"Who?" Harry asked utterly bewildered, the professor? Had the ghost done something to Ron? He needed to tell a professor if that was the case. Professor Snape would believe him, he knew that much. The Professor hadn't doubted him, or given him a reason to distrust him…and Harry was beginning to feel as if it would never happen.

"The slimy snakes," Ron said, slowing now that there was enough distance between them and he and Harry. Shifting his weight, a little and hefting his books further up under his arm.

"There were snakes in there?" Harry asked, he hadn't heard them, that was strange. Maybe there was magic on them making them invisible and silent? How had Ron seen them if that was the case? Then again, he had been focused on the poster.

"What?" Ron became bewildered, "Not literal snakes, the Slytherins!" pleased to have that matter settled, now he was getting hungry. His stomach grumbled, in complete agreement with Ron's mental assessment. Unfortunately, he had another class to go before dinner. He wished he hadn't already eaten the food he'd snuck out at breakfast. The bacon roll had been really good, too bad there hadn't been any sausages left.

"Are you…are you telling me you think heir's Malfoy, Parkinson's, Crabbe, Goyle and the others are evil?" Harry asked, eyeing Ron dubiously, stopping his movement, his entire focus on Ron. Since they began Hogwarts…this was the first true sign of real prejudice he was seeing. Well, one that didn't happen with the professors professing their pride over their Muggle-born students when the pureblood's answered they got nothing, sometimes receiving points.

"Of course, they are!" Ron declared, as if it was the most obvious thing, and that Harry was stupid for not knowing it.

"Ron…they're our age," Harry said, gaping in disbelief, "Of course they aren't evil." All he sensed was…loneliness from most of them actually. He understood all too well how that felt, stuck in his cupboard. Where was this all coming from? There was no evilness exuding from them. He should know, he'd sensed his fair share.

"Yes, they are!" Ron declared resolutely. "They're mini-Death Eaters, just like their parents, and anyone that hangs around them is one too!" his jaw jutting out stubbornly, majorly disliking that Harry was invertedly defending the slimy snakes.

"They're eleven," Harry pointed out, but the emotions exuding from Ron was belief's that have a lifetime of believing attached to them. He honestly believed it with everything that he was. Everything seemed so simple to Ron, black and white, but as someone who was an empath…he knew it wasn't so even at such a tender age.

"They're going to grow up to be Death Eaters," Ron stated, "They're not good people to be around. You should stick with me, I'll show you the good people, light people not dark filthy Death Eaters."

"But the houses are just part of everyone's personality," Harry pointed out, grunting when Ron started to pull him along, rather jerkily, upset that Harry was questioning the way things were. The resolute righteousness bothered Harry greatly. "We all have Slytherin tendencies, Ravenclaw tendencies, Hufflepuff ones and Gryffindor too."

Neville came into view, looking between the two of them. Wanting to intercede, especially the way Ron was gripping Harry's arm. It was visible how strong he was gripping him even through the black of his cloak. However, he didn't have the courage to help, which made his self-loathing even worse. "Harry's right Ron," he did have the courage to speak. Glancing around, hoping against hope to see a professor but there was nobody expect his fellow first years in the corridor or the stairs.

The urge to soothe Ron was strong, but Harry so very rarely pushed emotions on other people. Not unless they were overwhelming him to the degree, he needed to in order to survive. To be entirely honest, he hadn't realized he was doing it at first, and it didn't always work. If it did, the Dursley's wouldn't be abusive assholes. He had unconsciously been taking the edge off the rage and exhausting Vernon sooner.

As Harry grew up, his powers continued to grow stronger. He'd after all, succeeded in getting through Severus Snape's mental shields to calm his raging emotions. That was something he wouldn't have been able to do a few years ago.

"Shut up! Nobody asked you!" Ron sniped out, hating being questioned, his mum and professor Dumbledore was right, all Slytherin's were evil. "All Slytherin's are evil, trust me, Harry." He added to Harry, his vehemence was…absolutely terrifying.

"But your own grandparents were Slytherins," Neville pointed out calmly, as he felt braver. Wanting to defend Harry, and well, this knowledge was the only way he knew how.

"What? They were not!" Ron gaped, shaking his head vehemently, his stomach still grumbling loudly. Aghast by the mere mention of the possibility of a Weasley being in Slytherin.

"Yes, they were, Septimus and Cedrella Weasley, they were sorted into Slytherin." Neville said calmly and sensibly. "Were they evil?"

"They weren't filthy Slytherins!" Ron spat defensively, refusing to believe it. "All the Weasley's have been in Gryffindor for as long as Hogwarts has stood." His mum had told him so, and she was never wrong. However, he did feel a little bit of doubt, why would anyone say they were if they weren't?

"If you don't believe me, ask your father." Neville said, an overwhelming sadness when he thought of parents. "Come on, Harry, we don't want to be late for Professor Snape's class."

"You're wrong!" Ron shouted down after them, before rushing off, determined to be proven right. He would write to his parents right away; he'd show them all. All Weasley's were in Gryffindor! They were a good light family.

"Does he have a multiple personality?" Harry asked, as he glanced up Ron's way, he'd been hurt by Neville's accusation or that's how Ron saw it. Honestly, he was a good friend, but when it came to the house divides, he was seriously overwhelming in his belief that he was right. Where had it come from?

"A what? And are you okay?" watching Harry rub his arm again for the tenth time.

Harry glanced at Neville, and where he was looking before, he ceased his rubbing. "I'm fine," he reassured Neville, he'd had a lot worse. "It's just he's a good friend…but can become someone else in the flip of a switch." One had a filter the other did not.

"Uh…" Neville glanced up where they'd last seen Ron, at a loss of what to say.

Harry grinned, "It doesn't matter," he shook his head, his effort to put Neville at ease and happier worked. Ron would likely have the entire thing forgotten by dinner. "He'll be back to normal at dinner." Echoing his thoughts.

He was wrong, of course, Ron avoided Neville – and thus Harry – like they had the plague. Scowling at them even when he had food in his mouth, still seething over Neville's slight against his family. As soon as his dad wrote back, they'd see, they'd know that Longbottom was wrong.

Part of Ron must have suspected that Neville was right, otherwise he would have just asked one of his siblings. Unfortunately, Ron was under the belief anything he knew about the family, they knew too. There was no secrets in the family, his mum told them everything.

"I guess you were wrong," Neville muttered quietly, "Sorry, if I've messed up things for you," hoping he hadn't screwed things up for Harry. He was amazed the other boy would give him the time of day. It made him happier, having an actual friend now.

Harry wrinkled his brow, "No, I don't care much for the prejudice," and he didn't, his favourite person, ever, was in Slytherin. It wasn't quite so cut and dry for him to believe an entire section of the school was 'evil'. Perhaps if he wasn't an empath, he might have fallen for it – desperate for friends as he was – but he couldn't fall for it. He was insulting Marcus and part of Harry was angry about that.

Neville looked over at the Slytherin bench, "A lot of the Slytherins joined you-know-who during the war." He explained, grateful that the Lestrange's hadn't had children, it would have been so difficult attending school with them knowing what their parents had done.

Harry watched Neville, and followed his gaze, both of them marked by a prophecy. Both of them old before their tender years, and having trauma follow them everywhere. Of course, they weren't as innocent as the others, or quick to judge and believe what someone else told them. "Was it though? Just Slytherin's?" Harry wanted to know.

Neville paused, "No, he had followers in every house," he admitted, it's only what he'd heard. His grandmother hated the Lestrange's but she'd never gone on about Slytherin's being evil. It's why it had been so easy to stick up for Harry against Ron and his belief. Well, that and unbeknown to him, Harry had bolstered Neville's courage.

Harry made a small noise, watching as the table swarmed with delicious cakes and fruits for dessert.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Neville asked, noticing Harry's empty plate, it wasn't the first time he'd noticed it, but he just put it down to Ron's eating making him too nauseated to eat. He understood the feeling, his gran would have killed him if she saw him eat that way. Using his hands to eat, and chomping on each piece of food one at a time, gross.

"I'm going to take some fruit with me," Harry said, having never had it before he loved it. It was fresh, crisp and filling without making him feel sick to the back teeth. Well, as long as he didn't eat too much, but the potions in his pumpkin juice helped ease the sickness he felt.

"To the common room?" Neville enquired, watching as Harry scooped up lots of fruit into the bag. It wasn't new, the concept of taking food out the great hall, especially not fruit, people did that frequently for a snack during break.

"I'm meeting someone in the library, but I'll meet you later to play Gobstones?" Harry asked entirely too hopeful for Neville to think he was just being kind. Lying to Neville, he wouldn't be in the library but it was a good a place as any to pretend to go.

"Okay…" Neville ventured to say, wondering who he was meeting, he'd noticed Harry had been absent from the common room until curfew. He wasn't sure anyone else had but he noticed. It wasn't just once it had been every single the entire month he'd been at Hogwarts.

"If you're taking that food for tomorrow, there will be plenty of fruit tomorrow morning," Percy pointed out, "I can get you it from the kitchen if you'd prefer?"

Harry had sensed Percy coming up behind him, staring up at him from behind Neville and himself. "It's for tonight, thank you, Percy." Pleased that he'd remembered his name, he'd come around speaking to every first year just before bed the first week. He remembered his name started with a 'P' so Prefect Percy.

"Good," Percy said, glancing up at Ron, who was glaring at Harry. He thought about speaking up, but decided not to. He knew what his youngest brother was like, he had a trigger anger issue. Had done since they were children, the family hoped that taking care of the anger would allow Ron to calm. Usually that entailed de-gnome the garden. Whatever it was, Ron would need to fix it himself, he wasn't going to spend the last three years at Hogwarts getting himself mixed up in his brothers' problems. Fred and George were enough for him. He was blamed for everything they did by his parents, every detention, every reprimand, now Ron was here and next year Ginny…it was going to be a long few years.

Percy took his prefect duties very seriously, especially since he hadn't had anyone to turn to as an eleven-year-old. Thank goodness he wasn't shy and had two brothers also at Hogwarts. He was aware though, that not everyone did have. It hadn't taken long to figure out – due to his friendship with other houses – that his Head of House was likely the only one who didn't do her duties. He'd struck up an unusual acquaintanceship/friendship with Marcus Flint of all people. Recognizing a kindred spirit, in how serious they took their duties.

"I'll meet you in the common room, at eight?" Harry said, waiting for Neville to answer before he even begun to stand.

Neville nodded, a bit too eagerly, but he was excited. As far as he was concerned eight o'clock couldn't come fast enough. "You don't have detention, do you?" he had actually enjoyed potions today, the professor had ignored him entirely, hadn't come anywhere near the bench he was using. He'd been able to brew the potion properly! He wasn't sure why but he wasn't going to question his good fortune.

"Hmm, oh no, I'm just meeting a friend," Harry commented, tying the bag in a knot to keep his fruit safe. "He's in another house," his tone filled with exasperation. He hated having to keep his friendship with Marcus hidden. He was determined it wouldn't always be that way. It wasn't fair that he got a friend and had to hide it. It was like the Dursley's all over again. His hand came up to clutch the pendant that Marcus had given to him. It remained tucked under his clothes, and the metal remained warm.

Neville opened his mouth to ask whom, finding it odd, he had made friends with Hannah and Susan from Hufflepuff…and nobody bothered him about it. What speak of the devil, "Hey, Neville, Professor Sprout says she has baby mandrakes being brought in," her voice enthused, "She says we can come see as long as we help potting them!" it would take them eighteen months or so to mature fully if they took at all.

"When?" Neville asked, eyes wide with excitement. He'd never grown a mandrake, and the Longbottom nursery didn't have any.

"The herbologist is coming right after dinner!" soft spoken Susan was almost squealing in sheer delight. "I thought I'd have to wait another two years to work with them." At least that's what the prefect Penelope had said, who always had a moment for all first years, despite being a Ravenclaw.

Harry swallowed thickly, feeling very dumb, which he knew he wasn't. Especially not when compared to his cousin, now two short planks had more intelligence than Dudley. He dumbed himself down at school, but he'd never actually felt stupid until now. There was so much he still didn't know about magic.

"Susan that's professor Sprout leaving! It's time!" Hannah rushed up to her best friend, jumping on the balls of her feet in excitement. "Come on I don't want to miss it!" she'd only ever seen pictures of Mandrakes! They were so ugly but cute in their own way.

"Are you coming?" Susan asked, "Harry can come too!" seeing they were eating together and not wishing for him to be left out. Hufflepuff's have heart of gold, and Harry knew they were sincere in their offer not just out of social obligation. They truly wouldn't mind if Harry did join them.

"Sorry, I can't but you go have fun! I'll see you later," Harry said, already standing up, grabbing his school bag, stepping in line with Neville, Susan and Hannah as they left the Great Hall together.

Ron huffed as they passed, grumbling in his apple pie especially when no apology was forthcoming. What was taking his parents so long to write? Why couldn't they get something other than Erroll? He was so slow and old.

Harry parted ways from Neville and the girls, with a wave.

"Marcus!" Harry said, whirling around, a grin on his face.

Marcus was indeed behind him, a rueful grin on his face. "How long did you sense me for?" his crooked teeth and grin would have sent anyone running for the hills. Harry however, didn't care what he looked like, he liked Marcus for Marcus not the outer veneer.

Harry grinned shaking his head, "Just now." Really pleased to see him.

"Come on then," Marcus nudged Harry into following him, "How were your classes?" most of the students were still in the Great Hall, so the halls weren't filled with people. Which was a good thing, but since they were near Slytherin territory, the other Slytherins would likely never say anything.

"How long are we going to learn about goblin wars we've had like six classes and they're all about the same goblin war." Harry said dramatically. As he padded after Marcus, happily chatting away, telling him everything that had happened and including Ron's oddness as they made their way to what Harry realized was Slytherin common room.

"Septimius Weasley was a Slytherin, and he dated and married Cedrella Black nee Weasley. It wasn't a 'respectable' marriage in the eyes of the Blacks but she wasn't disowned until Walburga Black became Lady Black." Marcus explained simply, this was the sort of stuff Harry should have been raised with. It's also information Weasley should have grown up with too. Watching the boy sit down with the fruit and began to eat, closing his eyes wistfully. "As for your…friend, I'm not sure, his brothers are friends with other Slytherins." Him and Percy, the twins got on with everyone. Even Bill and Charlie had friends in Slytherin.

"So, Neville was right, Ron isn't going to be happy when he hears that," Harry commented, a little saddened for his friend, but maybe it will tone down the disgust and rage he felt towards the Slytherins if he knew he had family from there.

"He'll get over it," Marcus grunted, leading Harry over to the common room corner, that he preferred.

"Wow," Harry murmured, agog as he stared around the common room, "I thought nobody could know?" he asked, a little bit of bitterness tinging his voice.

Marcus noticed it, of course, he did, "I know," he patted Harry on the shoulder, and he was probably one of the few who could do so without Harry flinching a mile. "Nobody here will tell anyone," Marcus promised the boy, they knew better now. "What happens in Slytherin common room stays in the common room."

Tonight, he was going to be receiving a set of diaries from someone exactly like him. well, not exactly, since Harry was a powerhouse, whereas the author wasn't quite as powerful. It was going to help Harry understand his ability so much better than his imagination could fathom at the moment.

A/n – is that innocent 'Dumbledore' a product of Dumbledore's machinations or is Ron's prejudiced mindset courtesy of his mother beginning to come out as Ron gets more comfortable at Hogwarts or just Ron himself being young and naïve? Will Ron's friendship with Harry last or will it be doomed to failure after all Ron is saying nasty things about Slytherin's when the Slytherins were the first one to truly help him and ground him? Read and Review please let me know what you're thinking and whether you're missing classes being written about?