October

After his first summer at home with his parents, Adrian had wondered how old one had to be in order to move out. His parents may have been a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff, but both had opinions and values that even before he had met his friends, he had not agreed with. They didn't even believe that half bloods should be allowed access to magic and magical society. A Hogwarts education – to them – was a privilege that should only be allowed to those who had not deigned to breed with muggles (or more commonly those people) and certainly not to muggleborns (they used a far less friendly word without fail). Adrian knew that he was far less accepting than the rest of the group of muggleborns. It was something he had recognised within himself when he had thought to himself the previous year when Adelaide had been complaining about Hermione Granger, that it was 'of course typical of a muggle born' and in that moment, although he hadn't said anything to them, he had thought about what his friends might say had he said these sentiments out loud.

This summer had been no different from the others. They had been sitting eating dinner at the long table in the dining room, which had been a novelty to Adrian at the beginning of the summer as he had had to be thirteen in order to eat dinner outside of the nursery, and his father – a former Hufflepuff – had brought up how surprised he was that Harry Potter, that mongrel, was permitted to have a muggleborn friend. Surely things were better than during his time at Hogwarts, and they would by now be appropriately separating the normal people from the other people. Adrian in his new role of guilty former misunderstander of muggleborns had said that it was rational that muggleborns should be allowed to attend Hogwarts. Where else would they go? It was best for the safety (and secrecy) of them all for muggleborns to have somewhere to learn magic like the rest of them.

Then he had thought about the 'us' and 'them' of it all and had got a headache.

To him, it felt as though meeting without Professor Sprout was a betrayal of what they really were: a group of random people who ate lunch together and tried to understand one another, but at the same time, that none of them were quite so random anymore (they were all friends now) so perhaps it was suitable. So much of his concentration was split after spending his holidays with his parents.

Lunch club that day was a roaring success with copious amounts of soup and sandwiches being consumed and further practice of the new communication method being carried out. He still doubted that anyone had received any of his messages, but appreciated the idea of some consistency.

"Plans for the afternoon?" Adelaide asked, knowing that he had a free period. They were walking back down the corridor at the end.

"Oh nothing much," Adrian said brightly and untruthfully, "I think I'll just organise my planner."

Adelaide put her hand to her face, "Well that's something else I completely forgot to buy."

"I thought you said you had a list and that you'd ticked everything off?"

"Well, Ginny mentioned her new diary so I must have ticked it unwittingly. These things happen. That's my afternoon planned then – trying to work up the courage to ask someone to borrow their catalogue again and send off an order – I suppose it saves me from actually having to do work."

Adrian waved her goodbye and walked back towards his intended destination. He hadn't been back to the music room this term yet, but he was looking forward to finally getting around to trying out a spell he had found at the end of the previous term. He opened the door without much expectation of finding anyone on the other side. Why should he think about such a thing? He had always been able to avoid all people before? However, this time the unimaginable had come true.

"Who are you?" he asked the girl in a complete breach of decorum before realising how he had sounded and starting again. "Hello."

"Xanthe," she said, holding her hand out for him to shake.

"I'm…"

"I know who you are," Xanthe said quickly. "We were sorted on the same day."

"Oh," Adrian said, unsure as to what to say next.

"It's fine if you don't remember me. I'm a Hufflepuff."

That made sense to Adrian. He only really knew one other Hufflepuff, and that Hufflepuff was Adelaide. His father had been a Hufflepuff at school and mentioned it like it was honourable ever since, but Adrian didn't see many of the values espoused by Professor Sprout displayed in the behaviour of his father.

"Do you come here often?" he asked awkwardly.

"Oh, not really," she held out a strange tube. "When I went home this summer, my parents were disappointed that I hadn't practiced. Apparently I've lost my touch, and they're depending on me to play in the band."

"Band?"

"Oh, it's not that sort of band." Adrian couldn't say that he had been picturing any particular sort of band, "It's a ceilidh band. My parents are musical too and they play in lots of pubs. You might have heard of them: The Gay Gordons."

"Are your parents…"

"Muggles? Yes. Professor McGonagall was very confused by them. Apparently they are the first muggles she's ever met who actually believe in magic."

"Oh," he said again.

"Do you play any instruments? I'm more of a singer myself, but I play the pennywhistle to help out."

"Well, I play a bit of piano," he said, "and I'm hoping to be able to learn how to play the saxophone."

"Oh cool!" Xanthe said enthusiastically. "You're a bit late though. Apparently there haven't been music teachers here in 80 years. Believe me, my parents checked when my letter came."

"I found a spell," he said evasively, unsure as to whether this was something he wanted to share, "and I think it should help me a bit. I was hoping to be able to try it out today."

He really hadn't expected to find anyone here, so he decided that he would just wait for her to leave.

"Oh, cool!" Xanthe said, clearly not getting the hint, "I had a look in the library, but I couldn't find anything. It's honestly unbelievable that after three years here I haven't figured out how to use the library properly. I should probably get on that before OWLs. I'm not the most studious Hufflepuff. That title would go to Cedric if they decided to create an award for it."

Now that had Adrian's attention. Everyone in school was aware of Cedric Diggory and his studiousness. He had only really seen him across the hall or during Quidditch games. Along with being the most studious Hufflepuff, he was also the most popular Hufflepuff. Aesthetically, Adrian understood why.

"What's Diggory like?" he asked.

"Annoying," Xanthe said bluntly. "He's in all the same classes as me, and has been since first year, and he's constantly making sure everyone is alright. He makes Professor Sprout seem like a serial killer in comparison."

"That bad?"

"Yeah, compared to him, nothing is ever good enough. I mean, I love him, we all do and he's one of my best friends, but he will be prefect."

"I don't think they'd let me near being prefect."

"Me neither."

"I'll go then, leave you to your practicing," she said.

"I'll see you around," Adrian said as charitably as he could, but really wanting her to go away so that he could get on with things.

After a brief interlude spent wishing he was the only person in the world so he could be left in peace, Adrian sat down on the floor and went into his bag to find what he needed. A few minutes later, and a bag emptying that had resulted in his belongings being in complete disarray, he managed to find what he had been looking for.

"Ok then," he said to himself, "Mufflatio."

He checked it was working by setting his wand to make a loud noise every few seconds and was pleased to not be able to hear anything from outside the room. It was one he had used before, but it had not always been with the utmost accuracy.

"Next…" he muttered under his breath.

He went back to his notes and identified the spell he was looking for. "Ammaestrare."

The ensuing sound was deafening, and he dropped his wand in the process. He scrabbled around to find it for a moment, trying to shield his ears from the sound. Once he found his wand, he grabbed his notes and flicked back through them. He was now realising that he should have refamiliarised himself with the instructions before going about such a big project.

"Piano," he said, and as the instructions had said, the cacophony quieted down.

This was the moment. After all his time at home all alone wondering if the spell he had found would work, he had the time and the space to figure it out.

He took a deep breath. The book referred to the second part of the spell as 'beginner level' but they had a different level of expectation of children three hundred years ago, so he wasn't taking his chances. Despite all this, the main problem that he was likely to face was the age of the spell as compared to the age of the instrument. The spell had been invented far earlier than the saxophone had been. The 1840s weren't really that long ago when you stopped to think about it.

"Sassofono."

"Hello," started a voice which seemed as though it was both everywhere and nowhere, "congratulations on starting your journey to learn the 'saxophone'. It is a worthy pursuit. You have selected the 'saxophone'. Is this correct? Say yes or no."

"Yes," Adrian said, still flabbergasted that the spell he had found actually worked.

"Thank you," the voice continued, "please ready yourself for the first lesson of seven hundred and fifty, all of which will prepare you for all that the saxophone can throw at you. The first lesson is: 1. So you don't know how to use a reed."

Adrian learned very quickly that learning to play the saxophone via magic was an interesting process. All his years of trying to learn how to play the piano had not prepared him for this. The voice was both patient and passive aggressive at the same time, if that was possible, and by the end of the first lesson, he did in fact know how to use a reed slightly better. He supposed that progress was progress, no matter what you achieved.

He didn't have plans to meet any of his friends, but he did have a meeting with Professor Sprout in her office. He knocked on the door shortly after her usual office hours ended.

"Come in," her friendly voice came from within.

"You wanted me to come and see you?" he said, opening the door and entering. Her office was just as friendly as he remembered, and he couldn't help but stop to look at the avalanche of colours that had sprung to life in the time since he had last visited. As a friend of Neville he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of them.

"Yes," Professor Sprout said briskly, removing her gardening gloves and moving over to her desk. "I know you had a difficult summer, and found myself wondering the other day how you are settling back in. I gather you were alone rather a lot."

"It was alright, really," Adrian insisted. "There were house elves around and my parents talk to me every once in a while. Out of my friend group, I am one of the lucky ones. None of the others have two living, present, parents. They have things to complain about. I'm just being silly."

"Struggling with loneliness is never silly," Professor Sprout insisted, opening a tin of brightly coloured sweets and offering it to him. "I know talking about your feelings is even less acceptable in your mind than the others, but I would like to encourage you to at the very least try not to dismiss your own struggles as somehow less important. Now, tell me all about it."

"We all managed to set up a way of communicating over the summer using muggle calculators…"

"Very popular during the 1980s," Professor said wistfully. "I'm sorry, do continue."

"…and it was crude, but I really tried to make sure I was communicating well and trying to understand everything the others said. The idea of them sending little messages and reading mine made me feel less lonely. My parents were away a lot and while the house elves were around all the time, they had to work. Cho complained about 'tennis' at one point and I found myself wishing I could go too. I had this weird moment when the others said they had struggled to understand each other and me when I just felt the entire weight of the loneliness of this summer crash into me. I think it's over now."

"I understand you have been alone for a long time," Professor Sprout said sympathetically.

"I was alright with being alone before," he said, and it was true. In some ways he had barely even noticed it. "It's just been making friends and connections that has made me lonely. It's an adjustment."

"Your parents are away a lot," Professor Sprout said. "Is this something you feel you can discuss with them?"

"Absolutely not," Adrian said firmly. "It's the way our family works. Arm's length at all times and no crying. That's the Pucey way."

He was given biscuits and tea and anxiously interviewed about how lunch club was going in her absence before he was allowed to get on with his day.

"Adrian," Professor Sprout said. "I hope you understand that there are different ways to go about things, and remember what I told you: just because you have two parents it doesn't mean you can't ask me or any of your other teachers for help. I mean that."

Adrian somehow doubted he ever would. If his various ancestors hadn't asked for help throughout regimes and poor treatment there was no way he would.