《Farancia Abacura [HP fanfic]》


 1.0 Prologue

    The smell of sweat and leather filled the air. Flynn might have expected the smell to have grown dull to him after so many years of essentially living in the gym, but he had somehow never gotten used to it. It was a shame really. While he loved the subtle scent of leather that filled the air, it was too often overpowered by Jones''s nasty old man sme-


    Flynn''s world exploded, cutting off his thought with a flash of pain and a completely new smell. Blood. The third most common scent.


    "What the fuck, old man?!" Flynn shouted.


    "The fuck are you shouting at me for, brat?" Jones said, before aiming another swift punch at Flynn''s face, though he managed to duck under it this time.


    "I thought we were just doing drills," Flynn said. "Why the fuck did you punch me?"


    "You think your opponent''s gonna warn you before punching you?" Jones asked, before aiming another punch at his face, as if to emphasize his point.


    "Well if we''re just supposed to be doing drills, then yeah. I would," Flynn said, before jumping back out of Jones''s reach, just in case he tried to punch him again. Flynn touched his glove to his nose and frowned when he saw a drop of blood on it.


    "I''m bleeding," Flynn said.


    "I can see that," Jones grumbled, before taking his pads off and dropping them to the floor.


    "We''re stopping?" Flynn asked.


    "I don''t want blood on my equipment," Jones said, climbing out of the ring and tossing Flynn a rag. "Clean that up, then take a shower. We''re done for the day."


    "Tired already?" Flynn asked, with a frown. "You ain''t getting old on me, are you, Jones?"


    "Less talking, more cleaning," Jones said, already halfway across the gym.


    Flynn took one of his gloves to flip Jones the bird, before picking up the rag and dabbing at the drop of blood to clean it without smearing it. He sighed, disappointed at how suddenly their training session ended, but knowing better than to argue about it. Jones was an eccentric old man, and random mood swings weren''t something he was unused to.


    Once Flynn was satisfied that his glove wouldn''t stain, he made his way to the changeroom to shower.


    Flynn showered with his clothes on for the first few minutes, taking the opportunity to wash his clothes with the soap before stripping down and tossing them over a drying rack that stood in the corner of the shower room. Though he wasn''t usually one to shower with warm water, preferring cold water to soothe his muscles whenever he got a good training session in, he knew that Jones hated when he pushed up the heating bill, and he felt like spiting the old man today.


    Once he was done, he took his clothes from the drying rack and wrung them out as best as he could before pulling them back on. The wet cloth clung to his body, but Flynn ignored the uncomfortable feeling, knowing that it would dry out before he walked out the door.


    It always did, for some reason. He never really questioned it. When he asked Jones about it once, the man suggested that he probably just ran hot and not to think about stupid stuff.


    The gym was empty when Flynn stepped outside, though that wasn''t anything strange. The gym wouldn''t open to the public for a few more hours, and Jones was probably still out. Flynn didn''t want to go outside and inhale Jones''s cigarette smoke, so he idled around in the gym, busying himself by finding a rag and wiping the floors.


    It was an odd picture, he was sure, for a ten-ish year old boy to be wiping down the floors of a ratty boxing gym like this, but it wasn''t like he had anything better to do. Better than hanging out at the orphanage at the very least. Flynn wondered for a moment about what the other kids in the orphanage were doing, before he quickly decided he didn''t give a shit.


    With the sudden increase in free time that he had no idea what to do with, Flynn busied himself by cleaning the smaller nooks and crannies that he usually didn''t bother with. Armed with nothing but a rag and a bucket of soapy water, he set about to try and make the gym look as presentable as possible. Well¡­ as presentable as he could possibly make it look. Even he had his limits.


    Cleaning in silence, he only stopped when the creak of the gym door made him whip his head around.


    "Cryin'' out loud, Flynn. At least turn on the lights when you creep around in here. Nearly gave me a heart attack."


    "It''s bright out and I don''t like wasting electricity, Tom," Flynn replied, frowning when the young man flipped the switch anyways. He looked up at the lights as they hummed and flickered before giving off a steady light. "Jones doesn''t like it either."


    "Loosen up, Flynn. You''re too young to be wearing such a sour look," Tom said.


    Flynn gave Tom his best smile, and immediately the older man chuckled and shook his head.


    "Okay, nevermind. You''ve proved your point," he said. "Now put that away. You''ll scare the children."


    For the first time that day, Flynn laughed. His subtly too wide mouth and subtly too sharp teeth weren''t really noticeable most of the time, but when he smiled, people got uncomfortable even if they couldn''t figure out why. While the other kids at school and at the orphanage were quick to simply label him as a freak, Tom had been the first to point out that he kind of looked like a snake.


    Not that Tom would''ve been the first to notice. Flynn was certain that both Jones and Liz had noticed before Tom had, but Jones likely didn''t care enough to point it out, and Liz likely didn''t think he looked any stranger than the other kids. Something about everybody being beautiful just the way they were. How in the hell Jones had raised a lady like that, Flynn had no idea.


    "Hell, Flynn," Tom said, interrupting his thoughts. "You''ve really cleaned this place up. How''d you manage to clean the rafters?"


    Flynn shrugged. "I climbed," he said. "And I had time."


    "Mr. Jones should really be paying you for all the good you do here," Tom said.


    "Fuck that," Flynn said, his frown returning in full force. Tom''s eyes pointedly shifted to the side, though the smile didn''t drop from his face. He likely meant it as a friendly joke, knowing just how much Flynn hated the idea of taking the old man''s money, but that didn''t make it any less infuriating to hear.


    "I''ll kick your ass if you ever suggest that shit again, Tom," Flynn said.


    "Yeah, yeah," the older man said, taking off his jacket and tossing it to the side. "You wanna back up those words in the ring?"


    Flynn''s dour mood lifted immediately. "Really?" he asked, trying to stop the excitement from entering his voice too obviously.


    "Yeah," Tom replied, as he stretched his arms over his head.


    "What''s the occasion?" Flynn asked.


    "Not everything''s a trick, you little bastard," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "I just need a warm-up before the class starts, not that I expect you could give me one. Now are you gonna try to prove me wrong or are you just gonna stand there?"


    Flynn felt his lips curl up into another grin before he slapped himself in the face and hopped on the spot.


    "I''m gonna beat your ass, Tom."


    "Sure thing, buddy."


    Flynn had no chance. Being large for his age meant nothing when his opponent was an adult equipped with two hundred pounds of pure muscle. Though Tom was holding back enough that he wasn''t going to accidentally kill Flynn with an unlucky punch to the head, it sure didn''t feel like it to Flynn, as he fought for his life against the wall of jabs that Tom sent in his direction.


    Knowing that trying to block Tom''s punches was a useless endeavour, Flynn ducked and dodged out of harm''s way, taking glancing blows as he pushed himself forward, trying to get to a range where Tom''s longer limbs would be ineffective.


    It didn''t work. It never did.


    By the end of the three minute round, Flynn was laid out flat on the floor, holding blood and spit in his mouth while he waited for Tom to bring a bucket over to him.


    "Fanks," Flynn said, before propping his upper body high enough that he could spit into the bucket before falling flat on his back once more.


    "No big," Tom said, sitting down cross-legged beside him.


    Flynn waited for Tom to say something, but when the man didn''t do anything but stare off into space, Flynn scrunched his nose and pushed himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the way that his muscles screamed at him when he did. Tom didn''t even seem to notice.


    "The fuck is wrong with you?"


    Well, he noticed that at least. Tom let out a sound that was somewhere between a cough and a laugh, before turning to Flynn.


    "Excuse me?" he asked.


    "No," Flynn answered. "The fuck is your problem?"


    "Me? What? Every day you hound me to beat the snot out of you, and when I actually do it, you call me out on it?"


    "You weren''t beating the shit out of me, Tom. That''s just how men like us have conversations."


    "Don''t listen to Mr. Jones''s philosophies. He''s a genius at punching stuff, but not much else," Tom said, though Flynn noticed his eyes dart backwards, as if expecting the old man to be standing right behind him. "Most people don''t walk away that bruised after a simple talk. Are the police gonna be coming after me again?"


    "They don''t give a shit about us rats," Flynn said, shaking his head. "Stop changing the subject. Don''t be a bitch."


    Flynn saw Tom''s eyes spark in a rare fit of anger, before it died out just as quickly as it appeared. Tom sighed and looked away, before leaning back and falling flat against the mats.


    "How do you do it, Flynn?"


    Flynn frowned. "I don''t know what to tell you, Tom. I guess getting punched in the face is just a natural talent I have."


    Tom''s eyes flickered towards Flynn, giving him a half hearted glare, before looking directly up at the ceiling again.


    "You got a terrible life, Flynn."


    "Gee, thanks. I never realized."


    "Will you just shut up for a second and let me finish?" Tom asked, though there wasn''t any real heat behind it.


    "Not if you''re gonna be a little bitch about it," Flynn said. "I''ve never watched a chick flick in my life and I don''t plan to start now. Don''t think that just because you lied down, all mopey and sad, that I''m gonna lie down next to you and look up at the starry night sky while I let you talk about how your day went for a fucking hour before getting to the fucking point."


    Tom stayed silent for a moment before sighing and sitting up.


    "I''m thinking of quitting boxing," he said.


    "Why?" Flynn asked.


    "Because it''s hard trying to go pro while working sixty hours a week," Tom said. "Which, now that I say it out loud, it just sounds like I''m complaining."


    Flynn frowned. Though his first instinct was to agree with what Tom just said, he bit the comment back and turned his head away, not knowing what sort of expression he should be wearing.


    "So. How''re things at work, Tom?" Flynn asked, still staring off to the side.


    A long silence was his only reply, and though he didn''t want to turn around and see Tom moping around or crying, god forbid, curiosity eventually got the better of him.


    When he turned around, he was thankful that there were no tears in Tom''s eyes, but he was also confused by the dumb look that Tom was giving him. The way that Tom''s lips threatened to twitch upwards into a smile, made Flynn glad that Tom was apparently done with moping around, but at the same time, he wanted to punch the grin off the man''s face for whatever reason.


    "The fuck are you looking at?" Flynn asked.


    Though Flynn couldn''t see the humour in it, the simple question made Tom cover his mouth and grab his gut as he failed to hold back a couple of high pitched giggles that definitely didn''t suit a muscular twenty something year old black man like him.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Ah, there''s my good ole Flynn back," he wheezed, more than said. "It sounded like I was talking to my dad for a second there. I was half expecting you to call me ''sport'' or something like that."


    Flynn scowled and punched Tom in the meaty part of his thigh. Even though it felt like he was punching a brick wall, Flynn felt a twinge of satisfaction when Tom yelped and pulled his leg away.


    "Little bastard," Tom said, rubbing at the spot where he''d been punched.


    "Asshole. See if I give half a shit about you ever again," Flynn said, threatening Tom with a raised fist, even if he was too tired to act on it. He let himself fall backwards and laid on the floor of the ring.


    "Aww, little Flynn does have a heart. Who knew?" Tom said.


    Flynn scowled at his words, and felt it deepen when he heard Tom thump down a short distance from him.


    "Get back up. I was lying down first," Flynn said.


    "Nah, it''s too late," Tom said. "You''re in a chick flick now. Sorry."


    "Fuck off."


    Tom''s only response was to laugh. Though Flynn hated the idea of participating in mopey chick flick shenanigans like this, he didn''t want to get up either, feeling like that would be like handing Tom the win, somehow. So he stayed down, even if he didn''t like it.


    "The stars are beautiful tonight," Tom said.


    "I''ll actually stab you, Tom," Flynn said. "I''m gonna go back to the orphanage and get my shiv from my pillow, then I''ll come back and stab you in the dick."


    Tom immediately fell into silence. Flynn knew that Tom usually got like that whenever he mentioned his life at the orphanage, and though he hadn''t meant to use it as a tool to shut him up, he wasn''t going to complain about the sudden silence either.


    They simply laid like that for a while before Flynn decided he had enough. Rocking himself up to his feet, he stretched out his sore muscles a few times before nudging Tom''s shoulder with his foot.


    "Get up, shithead," Flynn said. "I gotta wipe the floor before your little brats get here."


    "They''re the same age as you, little bastard," Tom grumbled.


    "And they''ve been suckling their momma''s tits their whole lives," Flynn replied. "Those brats haven''t even seen the real world yet."


    "And you''ve seen too much of it," Tom said, still lying down.


    "Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" Flynn asked, nudging Tom''s shoulder again.


    Tom glanced at Flynn and got up before he could nudge him again.


    "I think I''ll quit my construction job," Tom said. "Find another part-time gig or two and go pro."


    "Good for you," Flynn replied, as he grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the puddles of sweat that the two of them had left in the ring. "You want a cookie?"


    "I wish you would take my life-changing decision a little more seriously, Flynn," Tom said.


    "And I wish you would shut the hell up," Flynn replied. "You think about what part-time gigs you''re gonna take? Maybe you could ask Liz if she has an errand boy position for you or something."


    "Elizabeth?" Tom asked, before chuckling and shaking his head. "I couldn''t."


    "Why not?" Flynn asked.


    "Why don''t you let Mr. Jones pay you?" Tom shot back.


    Flynn stared at Tom for a few seconds, before shrugging.


    "Fair enough," he said.


    With nothing else to say, Flynn took another shower while Tom went to the office and went over the gym''s finances for a while before the first of his brats started to trickle in for the gym''s children''s boxing classes. Flynn scowled at them, but made himself scarce before any of them could notice him, sneaking out the back door, only to be surprised when he nearly bumped into Jones.


    The old man was leaning back against the wall, not reacting to Flynn''s sudden appearance from inside the building as he sucked on his cig, surrounded by a large pile of butts. Flynn frowned when he realized it had been a while since he''d bothered to clean up behind the building, but before he could scold the old man for not using the bin he''d set up specifically for the cigarette butts, he noticed the wistful expression on his face.


    "Motherfucker," Flynn said. "Does everybody gotta be a mopey little bitch today?"


    Jones continued to stare ahead, not acknowledging Flynn''s insult at all. Before Flynn could consider asking whether Jones was going deaf or not, the old man took the cig from his mouth and flicked the ash in Flynn''s general direction. Flynn jumped back to avoid it, and glared at the old man, but said nothing.


    "Did you have a good talk with Tom?" Jones asked.


    "Yeah. Can''t you tell?" Flynn responded, pointing at his face. Though he usually healed quickly, the soreness he felt told him that he was no doubt sporting a black eye or two, at the very least.


    "Did you manage to talk back at all?" Jones asked.


    "No. I''ll get him next time though."


    Jones gave him a blank stare, holding it for a few seconds before turning his head and staring off into the distance once more.


    "He wants to go pro," Flynn said.


    "I''m aware."


    "You don''t want him to?"


    "It''s not a matter of what I want him to do. Tom''s his own man. He can make his own decisions."


    "But you don''t want him to."


    "Didn''t you hear me, brat? I don''t give a shit about what he wants to do. I just don''t want to be any part of it."


    "Why?"


    "Cause I ain''t a coach, kid. Tom''s better off going somewhere else to train, rather than this shithole."


    Flynn glanced back at the decrepit building they were both leaning against and couldn''t help but agree. "Tom''s a fucking idiot," he said. "But he''s his own man. He can make his own decisions."


    Jones glanced at Flynn before grumbling something unintelligible and tossing the last bits of his cigarette to the ground. He grinded it against the floor under his heel before reaching into his pocket and drawing out another one.


    "And what about you, brat?" he asked, covering up his face to light up his cigarette despite there being no wind.


    "What about me?" Flynn asked.


    Rather than answering immediately, Jones focused on trying to get his lighter to work, making sparks that landed on his bare skin three times before he could get a flame going. He took a long drag before he stared up into the sky.


    "How old are you, brat?"


    "Where the fuck did that come from, old man?"


    "Just answer the fucking question."


    Flynn wanted to needle the old man some more, but something about his voice surprised him. Flynn had never heard Jones sounding so tired before.


    "Ten-ish," he said.


    "And when do you turn eleven?" Jones asked.


    "Why? You planning to throw me a fucking party?" Flynn asked, with a dry laugh. "Fuck if I know. Don''t think my crackwhore of a mother bothered to fill out the proper paperwork when she dropped me off at the orphanage, but maybe I can ask around."


    Jones didn''t seem happy about the answer. He let out a sigh, and a cloud of smoke along with it.


    "If someone offered you unimaginable power in exchange for your freedom, would you take it?"


    Despite the suddenness of the change in topic, the question was easy enough that Flynn knew the answer immediately. "Yeah," he said, without a second of hesitation.


    "Why?" Jones asked. "I thought you hated being confined."


    "And if I was powerful, I could just take my freedom back. Easy."


    Suddenly, Jones fell into a coughing fit, spitting out his cigarette onto the floor. He pounded his chest violently as a spray of hacked spittle flew out of his mouth. Before Flynn could wonder if he should be concerned for the old man''s health, however, the cough faded away into a horrible raspy sound that sounded like Jones was rubbing two sheets of sandpaper against each other.


    It had been a while since he''d heard the old man''s laugh and it was just as annoying as he remembered it, but it also filled him with a sense of warmth that he desperately tried to ignore. Fucking Tom. This was all his fault somehow.


    "You''re still green, brat," Jones said, through raspy breaths. "But that''s a good answer."


    He didn''t say anything else after that. Jones reached for his pocket for another cigarette, but seemed to decide against it, shaking his head and walking back into the building. Flynn wondered for a moment what that had all been about before deciding that he didn''t give a shit. He stepped inside for a second to pick up the broom by the door, and swept up the discarded cigarette butts he had outside, before stepping back in.


    Tom was still teaching his class, and would be teaching more for the next few hours, so Flynn simply idled around in the back of the building with Jones, sitting in silence until Jones decided to get up and start making dinner. Flynn joined him and though the kitchenette at the back of the gym was tiny, they fell into a familiar and comfortable rhythm with each other, to make a typical meal of spaghetti with strips of nearly expired steak that Jones had bought from the nearby butcher for cheap.


    They waited for Tom to finish the last class of the day and shower up before they started eating. The back office fell into a comfortable chatter, filled mostly by Tom asking Jones about how Elizabeth was doing and talking about the gym''s finances, while the old man gave him grunted responses and Flynn got in his jabs wherever he could. They ate their fill, leaving no leftovers behind, and though Tom usually left after dinner, he sat back down at the table across from Jones after helping Flynn wash the dishes.


    Flynn could take a hint, so he made himself scarce, saying that he needed to head back to the orphanage anyways. Ms. Baggs didn''t give a shit about what the kids got up to, but she did have a rule that every kid needed to sleep at the orphanage at least four times a week, or she would write them off as dead.


    The walk from the gym to the orphanage took an hour, but it was warm and he had a full belly, so he could hardly complain. He kept his hands in his pockets and fidgeted around so any muggers would think twice about trying to jump him if they thought he had a knife, but he doubted that anyone would assume a rat like him would have money anyways. The only people who harassed him were a pair of teens who yelled at him for being white and a drunk hooker trying to sell herself to him, under the assumption that he was a midget.


    Otherwise, he made it to the orphanage without getting into a fight, and nobody there was stupid enough to start anything with him, given how many of the older kids still had scars on their bodies from the times they''d tried to mess with him, and that had been from a time before he had towered over them all. The only kid who was taller than him was a fifteen year old named Derrick, but he never took a fight unless he was certain he could win.


    Giving everyone in the room a stink eye as he entered, he checked his pillow to make sure his shiv was still there before taking his place at the corner of the large room that they slept in. Though there were a few ratty beds scattered around the room that had been donated by a faraway hospital, Flynn took his place on the floor.


    He refused to close his eyes until Ms. Baggs called for lights out and shut off all the lights in the building. Immediately, the room fell into silence, with none of the kids being stupid enough to make a noise and potentially set someone off.


    With a hand halfway inside his pillow, Flynn closed his eyes and fell asleep.

 1.1 First Impressions

    It took eight days for Flynn to discover what Jones had been on about, during their talk behind the gym. Flynn had skipped school early and was doing drills with Jones in the ring, as usual, when their session was interrupted by a knock.


    The sound of someone rapping against the metal door echoed across the entire gym, and Jones, who had only been half-heartedly participating in the drills so far, immediately snapped to attention at the sound.


    "Can''t you fucking read?" he shouted. "We''re closed."


    Flynn rolled his eyes. It wasn''t a mystery as to why the gym wasn''t doing well, financially, but he supposed he couldn''t mock Jones for his lack in people skills without being a hypocrite.


    "Pardon me," a voice said, muffled by the still-closed door. "I''m here for Flintstone Fredericton."


    Flynn''s blood ran cold at the sound of his name. With the only people he was close to being Tom, Jones, and Liz, the only person who would ever come looking for him was the police.


    Though he hadn''t committed any crimes in years, under the threat of an ass-whooping by all three adults in his life, he knew from experience that the cops didn''t give a shit about whether you actually did something or not. He considered bolting, knowing he could probably outrun most of the lardasses on the force, as long as he ran into an area where they couldn''t follow him by car, but Jones''s hand fell on his shoulder.


    Flynn''s first reaction was to lash out at the hand that held him, but Jones expected it, catching Flynn''s wrist before he could shake him off.


    "Don''t fucking touch me, old man," Flynn growled.


    "Calm down, brat," he said, before letting him go. "It''s not the cops."


    Flynn immediately retreated away from Jones''s reach. He considered running anyways, but the hard look in Jones''s eyes made him pause.


    "Who is it then?" he asked.


    "You wouldn''t believe me if I told you," Jones grumbled before he shouted once more. "The door''s unlocked. I ain''t coming to open it for you."


    There was a moment of pause before the steel door swung open.


    A midget stood on the other side of the door, and Flynn''s first thought was that he looked absurdly posh. The suit was a dead giveaway, being made of a material that Flynn hadn''t ever seen in his life. It was obviously worth more money than Flynn expected to see in his entire lifetime, especially with how it was tailor made to fit a man of his size, and he couldn''t help but wonder how he managed not to get mugged on the way there.


    While the obvious old money aura he exuded would be a deterrent to attacking him, since most people would know that the police would actually care if someone like him got inconvenienced in any way, there were enough brainless crackheads that Flynn was legitimately shocked to see the man looking completely unconcerned about where he was, even before he could even think about why he was there in the first place.


    "Filius Flitwick, at your service," he said, with a flick of his wrist and a slight bow. "It''s a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. Fredericton and Mr. Zabini."


    "It''s Jones now," Jones said, before Flynn could speak up and ask who the hell Zabini was. "Marcus Jones."


    Flitwick raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow before nodding. "Very well, Mr. Jones," he said, before turning back to Flynn. "Mr. Fredericton, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Filius Flitwick of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am pleased to inform you that you are a wizard."


    Flynn immediately turned on his heel and sprinted away before the tiny pimp could continue. He''d seen countless kids in his orphanage being lured into prostitution before, but Flynn would never be one of them.


    "Flynn!" Jones barked before he could get too far. "If I was gonna sell your ass, I would''ve made sure you couldn''t move by the time he got here. Sit back down and listen for once in your fucking life before you run off like an idiot."


    Flynn''s hand was already on the back door to the gym, but he paused at Jones''s words. Begrudgingly, he looked back to see an unamused Jones, making no effort to trap him physically, as well as a very confused Flitwick, whose smile had frozen plastic on his face.


    Jones was right. If this really was an attempt to kidnap him, there would be no realistic chance for him to escape. Someone like Flitwick would have goons, and there would be no chance that they weren''t surrounding the gym right now.


    Flynn dashed to the side, and charged through another door, leading to the kitchen. As fast as he could manage, he grabbed a steak knife, letting the feeling of cold steel calm his nerves and pressed the tip gently against his neck, keeping it there as he stepped back out into the gym.


    Jones merely rolled his eyes at the sight of Flynn threatening to kill himself, though Flitwick seemed to be absolutely stunned.


    "M-Mr. Fredericton," he stammered. "I really can''t say I quite understand your reaction."


    "I''d rather die than touch any dick but my own," Flynn said, spitting on the floor for emphasis. "Try me, bitch. You think I won''t?"


    Jones sighed as he massaged his temple. "You''re cleaning that up later, you brat."


    "Fuck you and fuck your gym," Flynn shouted. "You set me up, you fucker."


    Jones sighed again as he lazily waved a hand at Flitwick. "Could you just show him some magic? Kid''s a muggle. He''s not gonna believe anything until he sees it with his own eyes. Even then, it''ll take some more convincing after that."


    "O-of course," Flitwick said, reaching into his coat pocket.


    Flynn pressed the knife a little deeper into his neck, feeling its sting when it punctured his skin and drew first blood. When the tiny man drew out a small stick, Flynn felt his grip slacken slightly in confusion, but he still refused to put the knife away.


    "Don''t touch the knife just yet," Jones said, making Flynn immediately tighten his grip around it once more. "It''s his only source of stability right now. Taking it away will just make things worse."


    "Oh yes," Flitwick said, nodding frantically, and generally sounding like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "That makes sense... I suppose."


    Flynn watched as Flitwick waved the stick, and a swarm of glowing golden birds erupted from the end of it.


    "A-as you can see, Mr. Fredericton-"


    "That ain''t gonna work," Jones grumbled.


    Flynn hated that he was proving Jones''s point by stabbing his knife deeper into his neck. He started to feel a trickle down his neck, but paid no mind that he was ruining one of his better shirts.


    "What about this?" Flitwick said, with a somewhat hysterical laugh, as he waved his stick, causing a gout of fire to erupt from the end.


    It was pretty, but Flynn didn''t move.


    "This?" Flitwick asked, desperation creeping into his voice as he waved his stick again. A beam of blue light erupted from the end of it and hit Flynn''s discarded boxing gloves, making them float over to the nearest punching bag and hitting it, as if they were being worn by an invisible boxer.


    Though it was impressive, it wasn''t convincing enough for Flynn to risk his ass over it.


    "Try again, magic man," he growled, still keeping his knife against his neck.


    Flitwick really did start to hyperventilate before he raised his stick and pointed it into the air. Though nothing seemed to happen at first, Flynn''s eyes widened when he saw the dark cloud starting to form in the room, expanding to obscure the entirety of the tall roof with a stormcloud.


    When the stormcloud started to thunder, sending tiny lightning bolts careening to the ground, Flynn felt his grip slacken at the wonder of what he was seeing. Though he still kept the knife against his neck, he almost forgot about it when the first drops of rain hit his face.


    "Hey, asshole! Not indoors!" Jones shouted, but Flitwick didn''t seem to hear him, too focused on waving his stick around like a conductor.


    Flynn watched as the stormclouds swirled to match the movements of Flitwick''s stick, swirling faster and faster with the wind that picked up inside of the gym, until it created a tornado that touched down halfway between where Flynn and Flitwick were standing.


    Flynn''s paranoia spiked when he suddenly lost sight of the tiny man, but for the first time in his life, the feeling was overwhelmed by a sense of wonder. For a moment, he watched the small scale natural disaster simply existing in front of him, and he let himself do the same.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    And then the tornado dissipated, revealing a very drenched Flitwick, still standing in the very same spot he had been in a moment ago.


    "So?" Flitwick panted out, as the storm clouds in the room dissipated into nothingness. "Still not convinced, Mr. Fredericton?"


    Flynn narrowed his eyes, not liking the way that Flitwick was grinning, like he had won. He readjusted his grip on his knife and pointed it towards the tiny man.


    "Fine, magic''s real," he said. "What the fuck does that have to do with me?"


    If he felt a little satisfaction at the way that the man''s expression fell into a tired and haunted look, he didn''t let it show on his face. He simply watched as Flitwick''s eyes darted to the side, silently pleading Jones for help.


    "Remember what I said about a week ago?" Jones said. "About whether you would take power if it meant giving up your freedom?"


    "This was it?" Flynn asked. "You could''ve fucking warned me, you old coot."


    "We both know you wouldn''t have believed me," Jones grunted. "Worst case scenario, you would''ve run away, and this shit would''ve happened anyways, just without me there to calm your ass down."


    Flynn glared at Jones, not wanting to acknowledge that he was right. Instead he turned his gaze to Flitwick, who almost flinched when they locked eyes.


    "Fine," Flynn said. "I''m listening."


    From the look on Flitwick''s face, Flynn wasn''t sure if the man looked like the man wanted to cry out of joy or stress. In either case, the older man managed to hold back his tears long enough to clear his throat and regain some of his composure.


    "Well, Mr. Fredericton," he said. "As I''ve already mentioned, I come bearing an invitation for you to attend the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


    Flitwick gave a start as he seemed to remember something. He patted at his suit for a few seconds before drawing out a soaking wet envelope. He didn''t seem too disappointed about the state it was in, tapping the envelope twice with his stick and magically reverting it to a dry state.


    "Here''s your invitation," Flitwick said, waving his stick once more, sending the envelope gently floating in Flynn''s direction. Once it got close enough, Flynn quickly snatched it out of the air, like it would suddenly zip away if he was too slow.


    Tearing the edge of the envelope open with his teeth, he held the letter up in front of him, slightly to the side, so he could keep an eye on Flitwick while he read.


    Dear Mr. Fredericton,


    We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.


    Term begins on the 1st of September. We await your owl by no later than the 31st of July.


    Yours sincerely,


    Minerva McGonagall


    Deputy Headmistress


    "You''re inviting me to a school," Flynn said frankly.


    "Yes," Flitwick responded.


    Flynn eyed the flowing suit that Flitwick wore. Now that he was looking at him, without the assumption that he was a pimp, Flynn had to admit that the suit that he was wearing was quite strange, though he didn''t know enough about high fashion to comment on it. In any case, it was something way out of his price range.


    "Seems like a fancy private school," Flynn said. "I can''t afford it."


    "Actually, there are no tuition fees to attend Hogwarts," Flitwick said, seeming to find comfort in the familiar topic. "Additionally, while most students are expected to buy their own school supplies, any students in financial need will be provided with secondhand books, as well as a stipend to purchase a wand and two sets of robes."


    "Bullshit," Flynn said.


    "E-excuse me?" Flitwick asked, his temporary cheer immediately being crushed.


    "If it sounds too good to be true, it likely is," Flynn said. "You''re lying."


    Flitwick''s mouth gaped open as he once again looked towards Jones for help.


    Jones sighed and shook his head before looking up at Flynn.


    "Hogwarts is the most prestigious magic school in all of the UK, brat, but you''re right. It is too good to be true. Up until about a decade ago, tuition wasn''t free and the stipend didn''t exist," he said.


    "What changed, then?" Flynn asked.


    Jones shrugged. "Lots of magic folk died," he said. "Some nutter basically went about the UK, killing magical folks as he liked for a couple years. Hogwarts isn''t just the most prestigious magical school in the UK anymore. It''s the only school. With so many wizards being killed, the smaller schools shut down and Hogwarts became the only one left. They''re desperate enough for students that they''re offering free shit to anyone with a lick of magic in them, even if it''s a street rat like you."


    Flynn frowned. If Jones was telling the truth, then he could see the sense in it. Nothing in the world was free, but if this school was desperate for students, then he could agree that it made sense that they could offer free shit.


    "Does that track, magic man?" Flynn asked.


    Flitwick didn''t seem to understand that the question was directed at him, but Flynn could guess from the utterly distraught look on his face, that Jones''s blunt explanation had been correct.


    "Fine," Flynn said. "I''ll play along for now. Tell me more."


    Turns out, there wasn''t much else to tell. It takes a moment for Flitwick to realize that Flynn had tentatively accepted his offer to go to his school, and he took the news with mixed emotions, seeming unsure of whether he actually wanted him to attend after actually meeting him. The fact that he didn''t rescind his offer immediately despite that made Flynn more confident that Jones was telling the truth about the school being desperate.


    "Now traditionally, the first teacher to contact a muggleborn student is the one to show them around Diagon Alley, to get them accustomed to the magical world, but seeing as you have a member of the magical community you''re familiar with, I suppose you could go with him instead. If that is what you wish, of course."


    "I''ll go with Jones," Flynn said.


    Flitwick let out a sigh of relief almost immediately. He pulled another letter from his coat and dried it out before floating it over to Flynn''s hands again.


    "That envelope contains a voucher of sorts for you to acquire two sets of robes from Madam Malkin''s Robes for All Occasions as well as a wand from Ollivanders. Those are both shops in Diagon Alley," he added hastily, once he seemed to remember who he was talking to.


    "Thanks," Flynn drawled sarcastically. "Couldn''t have figured that without you."


    Flitwick didn''t seem to know whether to be insulted by the sarcasm, or simply ignore it, but before he could come to a decision, Jones coughed into his hand.


    "Leaky Cauldron''s an hour bus ride from here," he said. "I''ll go with the brat, but I ain''t eager to waste time, Mr. Flitwick. I''d appreciate it if you could at least take us there and back."


    Though Flitwick didn''t seem to be too enthused by the request, but the obvious look of relief at Jones''s agreement to be Flynn''s chaperone seemed to overpower any negative emotions that the tiny man might''ve had otherwise.


    "Of course!" he said. "If you could both come here and place your hands on my shoulders, we can go to the Leaky Cauldron immediately! Though I would appreciate if you could drop the knife, Mr. Fredericton."


    Flynn considered the request before putting the knife in his back pocket, angling it in a way that he wouldn''t accidentally stab himself.


    "I don''t want my fucking kitchen knives out on the streets, brat," Jones growled, before turning to Flitwick. "And before we go, Mr. Flitwick. I''d appreciate it if you cleaned your mess up first."


    Flitwick blinked a few times in confusion before seeming to realize that everything inside the gym was soaked, including himself.


    "Of course, Mr. Zabini," he said. "But if you would allow me to catch my breath first, I would greatly appreciate it. My previous spell did take some effort on my part, and cleaning the aftereffects of it will no doubt prove to be similarly difficult."


    "As long as you clean it up before we go," Jones said, before turning to Flynn.


    He motioned with his head to the back of the gym, towards the kitchen. Though Flynn''s nerves were still high enough that the idea of being in an enclosed space like that wasn''t a comfortable one, he couldn''t logically think of a reason to refuse Jones''s silent request. If he backed down here, it would just seem like he was being a little bitch.


    Flynn walked back into the kitchen and tossed his knife in the sink. By the time Jones walked through the door he had already cleaned the knife of his blood and had it drying on the rack.


    "So," Jones said. "I assume you have questions."


    "Nah, I''m just fucking dandy, Jones. This wasn''t a total mindfuck that you sprung on me with no warning. Why in the fuck would I ever have a single fucking question about what just happened?"


    Jones simply raised an eyebrow and reached into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes he kept there. He frowned when he saw they were wet, and tossed them to the side, into the garbage.


    "Why didn''t you just magic those up to be dry?" Flynn asked.


    "Because I can''t," Jones said, unfolding one of the steel chairs they had used during last night''s dinner and sitting down at the table with his back to Flynn. He took the lighter from his pocket and tried to light it, frowning when only sparks came out. "I''m what''s known as a Squib."


    "Sounds like something you''d catch from a back alley hooker," Flynn said.


    "That it does," Jones said, with no humour in his voice. "It''s what the magics call a person who was born into a magical family, but doesn''t have any magic of their own. That''ll be the first lesson you learn, brat. The magics have a dogshit sense for naming things."


    "I could tell," Flynn said. "Muggles are what they call us normal people?"


    "No," Jones said. "Not us normal people. You don''t get to call yourself that anymore."


    "Just one more reason to call myself a freak, then?"


    "Seems like it."


    Flynn glared at the back of Jones''s head for a moment before groaning and grabbing one of the folded chairs that leaned against the wall. Although the temptation was there to knock it against Jones''s head a little as he passed, he resisted the urge and sat down at the other side of the table.


    "So," Flynn said. "I''m magic."


    "Yeah."


    "You knew?"


    "Not for sure, but I suspected. Weird shit happens around magic kids, but I was willing to write it off as just you being weird."


    "Fair enough," Flynn said. "What now?"


    The simple question made Jones raise an eyebrow.


    "The fuck are you asking me for?" Jones asked. "Make your own fucking decisions."


    Flynn stared at Jones for a moment before shrugging.


    "Fair enough," he said again.


    They sat in silence for a long moment, before Flynn sighed.


    "Fucking hell," he said. "I guess I''m gonna be a fucking wizard."


    "Congratulations," Jones said, though his voice was monotone. "By the way, Hogwarts is a boarding school, last time I checked."


    Flynn''s jaw slackened slightly. A private school AND a boarding school? His reputation would be absolutely tanked once he came back.


    "Fucking hell," he muttered into the air.


    "That change your mind at all?" Jones asked.


    "Fuck no," Flynn responded, though he did so almost begrudgingly.


    A few minutes of silence later, and Jones got up, evidently deciding that he had given Flitwick enough time to clean up, and though he didn''t seem to be quite done, Flynn had to admit that the process was quite impressive.


    Flitwick had been busy, apparently using his magic to suck the moisture from everything in the room, and gathering it up into a large orb of water that simply floated in the middle of the air. When he heard the kitchen food opening, Flitwick turned his head towards the source of the sound, though he kept his stick aloft and pointed at the orb of water.


    "Ah, perfect timing, Mr. Zabini," he said, sounding much calmer than he did just a few minutes before. "I''m nearly done here, and I was hoping you could direct me to the nearest drain where I could dump all this water into?"


    "Kitchen''s back here," he said, pointing with his thumb. "And it''s Jones now."


    "Ah yes, of course. I apologize. I won''t make the mistake again," Flitwick said, before waving his wand.


    Though the orb of water remained mostly intact, a long tendril of water extended from it, snaking into the open door and down the drain, even if Flitwick couldn''t possibly see where it was from where he was standing. The process was slow, as the water seemed to flow out of the orb at a steady rate, so it wouldn''t risk overflowing the sink, but Flynn didn''t mind. He reached out to touch the tendril of water that floated in front of him, marvelling when his hand entered the stream with no resistance.


    If he was being honest with himself, even after Flitwick had conjured up a literal tornado in front of him, he''d had his doubts that magic existed. But now, he truly believed it. It wasn''t so much the impossibility of what he was looking at that convinced him that magic existed, but the feeling that coursed through him as he touched the magic that infected the water.


    "Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath.

 1.2 Welcome to Diagon Alley

    After Flitwick finished up with the cleaning, making sure to suck the moisture from Flynn and Jones''s clothes as well, Flynn and Jones both touched the man''s shoulders.


    "Please, a tighter grip, if you will. No need to be shy, gentlemen. Now I will warn you, Mr. Fredericton, that the experience of apparating is quite disorienting, especially for first timers such as yourself," Flitwick said. "Are you prepared?"


    Flynn grunted as he put his whole hand on the small man''s shoulders. "As ready as I''ll ever be," he said. "Let''s just get it over with."


    "If you insist," Flitwick said.


    And suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound as Flitwick''s shoulder twisted and morphed like it was made of rubber, pulling Flynn''s body along with him as he shot forwards. Darkness took over his vision, and the grip of panic overtook him as he found he couldn''t breathe. Pressure assaulted him from all sides and his eyes and ears threatened to pop in protest, as his entire body stretched and squeezed like he was being forcibly pulled through a pipe.


    And then the feeling stopped and he was suddenly standing in a dingy pub. Nobody in the pub seemed to care that three people randomly seemed to appear out of nowhere, though he did see a few of them looking in his direction and chuckling.


    Flynn was about to ask what the fuck they thought they were looking at, until he realized he was on his hands and knees. He quickly got up, ignoring the way that he swayed for a second before he could find his footing.


    Flitwick looked unbothered, though a little apologetic, while Jones simply had a frown on his face, though that didn''t say much, given that it was his default expression. Not wanting to give off the impression that he was the only one that was affected by the teleportation magic, Flynn said nothing.


    "Now then," Flitwick said. "I assume you know how to get to Diagon Alley from here?"


    "I do," Jones replied, walking off to a corner of the bar where nobody was sitting.


    "I''ll be here when you finish," Flitwick shouted after Jones''s retreating back. He glanced at Flynn. "You should follow him."


    Flynn considered telling Flitwick not to tell him what to do, but if this was going to be one of the teachers at his new school, he didn''t see the point in painting a target on his back this early. That would come naturally over the year, he supposed.


    "Yeah, I''ll do that," he said, with a grunt and a nod, before walking towards Jones.


    Flynn heard Flitwick sigh and mutter a comment about how badly he needed a drink, but he decided to ignore it.


    By the time Flynn caught up with Jones, he found him standing next to a hole in the brick wall that led into a bright and busy street.


    "Keep up, will you, brat?" Jones said, before walking into the street.


    "Fuck off, old coot," Flynn responded, hating how fast he had to walk to keep up with the older man''s longer stride.


    "We''re going in, then out," Jones said. "Robes or wand, first?"


    Flynn looked up at him like he was stupid.


    "You''re asking me whether I want to go look at clothes or a fucking stick that can let me do magic?" Flynn asked.


    "I ain''t gonna assume what you want, brat," Jones replied. "You take control of your own destiny, you hear?"


    Flynn blinked a few times before rolling his eyes. "Well, that''s nice of you and all, but use your fucking head for once, old man," he said. "Magic stick."


    "Wand," Jones replied. He started to walk down the street.


    "Sure. Wand. Whatever," Flynn said, as he followed after him.


    Flynn didn''t know what to make of Diagon Alley. Though a small part of him wanted to marvel at the number of wondrous things happening behind the glass displays behind every store, he kept his eyes lower to the ground as he stuck to the side of the road.


    Though crowds like this usually made him nervous, Flynn couldn''t help but feel confident. Everyone he passed seemed naive to the point where he felt like he could just reach into their pockets and steal their things without them noticing, even if he hadn''t practised his pickpocketing skills in years. Despite this being an obviously well off neighbourhood, It seemed like wizard''s fashion revolved around looking like a well-off homeless person, wearing robes and accessories that looked like they were made of whatever knick knacks they could pilfer from a rich girl''s trashcan.


    Flynn found that he actually fit in quite nicely. Though he could never claim that he looked well off, his baggy black clothes almost made it look like he was wearing a robe if nobody looked at him for too long, and Flynn was very good at not being seen when he didn''t want to be.


    He kept his eye on the crowds and his back all through the walk to the wand shop, but it felt like a waste of time. Though he wouldn''t let his guard down, he felt almost disappointed in the lack of awareness that everyone there seemed to have.


    "We''re here," Jones grunted.


    "I can see that," Flynn said, glancing up at the sign that read, ''Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.''. A nervous energy ran through him for a moment, before Flynn pushed the door open and walked inside.


    Ollivanders was dark. It was much lighter than what Flynn was used to living in, but he still had trouble adjusting to the sudden change from the lighting of the midday sun to that of the interior of the shop. That being said, it was impossible to not notice the old man sitting in the middle of the shop, silently staring into his eyes in a way that creeped Flynn out, even if he wasn''t sure why.


    "What the fuck are you looking at?" Flynn asked, unable to stop the automatic challenge from exiting his mouth. He regretted it almost immediately, not out of any notion of respect, but because the old man felt dangerous.


    "I''m looking at you, young man," the man said with a smile that reminded Flynn of a doll''s.


    Flynn shivered. If any other old man said that to him, Flynn would''ve assumed they were a pedophile, but somehow, this felt worse. A small part of him told him to run away as fast as he could, but the larger part of him told him to stay put. Running would be pointless, after all.


    "Here for a wand, are you?" the old man asked, before chuckling and shaking his head. "Of course you are. My apologies. Just a little joke I like to have with myself."


    "I am," Flynn said slowly, like every word he said had the risk of ruining the old man''s mood.


    Flynn wasn''t sure if the old man hadn''t noticed Flynn''s cautiousness around him, or if he simply didn''t care, but in either case, he turned around and disappeared into the back of the shop. Flynn heard the sound of shuffling boxes, followed by silence.


    He struggled not to jump when the old man seemed to reappear in the blink of an eye, with an armful of leatherbound boxes.


    "I had to search in the back for these," he said, taking a deep breath and blowing over the boxes. The dust that came off them seemed to sparkle and shine in vibrant colours before disappearing, causing the old man to giggle like a child before setting the boxes on a counter and beckoning Flynn to approach.


    Against all of his survival instincts, he did.


    "So many centuries that these wands had gone to waste, though I suppose they haven''t minded," the old man said, chuckling to himself. "Lazy little things, or perhaps I should say spiteful? I don''t think any of them have quite forgiven me, or my predecessors rather, for creating them."


    Flynn had no idea what he was on about, so he simply stayed silent until the old man opened a box and took a wand out of it.


    "Here," he said. "Try this one. Alder. Dragon heartstring. Twelve inches."


    Flynn slowly reached out to grab it, but the old man quickly pulled it out of his reach before he could take it and put it back in its box.


    "No, no," he said, shaking his head. "I should''ve known. I apologize to both of you. How about this one?"


    Opening another box, the old man drew out another wand.


    "Willow, unicorn hair, ten and a half inches," he said, holding it out once more.


    This time Flynn didn''t hesitate nearly as much in grabbing it from the old man''s hands, though he still remained cautious. Flynn''s eyes widened as the wand seemed to vibrate in his hands, but before anything substantial could happen, the old man leaned forward and snatched it from his grasp.


    "Hey!" Flynn shouted, unable to stop his anger at having his wand stolen.


    The old man shook his head. "It could''ve worked, but you would be forcing the wand into submission, rather than working with it. You can do better."


    Unbothered by the angry growl that rumbled in Flynn''s throat, the old man put the wand away and pulled out another.


    "Maple. Kneazle whisker. Ten inches."


    "Pine. Dittany stalk. Exactly twelve inches."


    "Prickly Ash. Dragon Heartstring. Nearly fourteen inches."


    The old man went through a number of wands, yanking nearly half of the wands away before Flynn could even touch them. Any excitement that Flynn had about getting a wand had faded away by this point, and the fear he had of the old man had slowly simmered into anger.


    When the old man took out a wand and sighed, stowing it away without even listing out its qualities like he had with the others, Flynn finally snapped.


    "Stop fucking with me, old man!" he shouted.


    Though it had been nearly silent already, the blanket of silence that suddenly fell over the wand shop was stifling, a void, rather than a simple absence of sound.


    The old man glanced up at Flynn, his eyes staring into Flynn''s, sharp and dangerous.


    At that moment, Flynn knew that he would die.


    Then the old man smiled and the moment passed.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "I knew you reminded me of someone," he said, before disappearing.


    Before Flynn could seriously consider running away, the old man reappeared, holding another leatherbound box, identical to the ones that littered his desk already. He set it down in front of him and opened the box. Gingerly, as if the wand was burning hot, he picked it up with two fingers and held it aloft in the air for Flynn to take.


    Flynn gingerly took the wand from the old man''s hands.


    Nothing happened at first. With the first wand that he managed to grab, he had felt a glimpse of power in it, though he hadn''t actually managed to make contact with it before the old man took it away. The old man seemed content to let him hold it for longer than a few seconds at least, but other than the pulse of his own heart, he felt nothing in the moment.


    And then he realized. It wasn''t his own pulse that he was feeling.


    "Is this thing alive?" Flynn couldn''t help but ask.


    "In my opinion, all wands are alive," the old man said. "But I suppose if any wands were alive in the sense that humans tend to define it, this one would be the closest to fitting the description."


    Flynn wasn''t sure if he should drop the damn thing or not.


    "What do you mean by that?" Flynn asked.


    "Acacia. Thirteen inches. Rather inflexible, but not completely stiff," the old man said. "All qualities that you wouldn''t find in a typical wand, but the thing that sets this wand apart from the others is its core. The heartstring of a rather odd forest troll."


    "I don''t know what that means," Flynn said.


    "The trolls of old were renowned by their regenerative abilities, to the point where they could regrow heads and organs if you did not set them on fire or destroy their heart directly," the old man said. "Even though the one that gave me his heart for the wand that you hold in your hands right now is long dead, it''s possible that some life remains within it. He sure was stubborn enough that it''s possible."


    Flynn waited for any further information, but the old man simply smiled at him. Giving up on trying to pry anything from the old man that actually made sense, Flynn gripped the wand tight.


    "So," he said. "Does that mean this one is mine?"


    The old man chuckled. "Perhaps," he said. "Tell me boy. Why do you wish to become a wizard?"


    The familiar question, even if it wasn''t worded in the same way, had an obvious answer.


    "Power," he said.


    "What type of power?" the old man asked.


    The power to get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. The power to live life however he wished. To become so powerful that nobody would ever try to fuck with him.


    "All of it."


    As if in response to his answer, the wand in his hand pulsed slowly and steadily. Though nothing visually happened, Flynn held back a gasp as he felt a sudden rush of power coursing through his body, from within and without.


    The old man smiled and bowed his head.


    "Thank you for shopping at Ollivanders," he said. "I''m glad you finally found your partner."


    The old man bent down to scoop up some of the discarded wand boxes from his desk and started to walk away, humming a jaunty tune.


    Though he wanted to ask a few more questions, Flynn jumped when he felt something clamp against his shoulder. Whirling around, he was startled to realize that he had completely forgotten that Jones had also been in the shop with him.


    "Let''s go," Jones said. "We have no more business being here."


    Though Flynn wanted to argue, he felt the sudden and pervasive feeling that what Jones said was correct, like he didn''t belong in the shop anymore. Struggling to keep himself from looking around, not sure he would like what he saw, he nodded.


    "Yeah, sure," he said, trying to be as casual as possible. "Let''s go."


    As soon as Flynn opened the door, he almost staggered at the sudden burst of sunlight and the sounds of lively streets hit him, almost violent in its contrast to the dark and oppressively silent store that he''d just exited. He stopped in front of the door, and only moved when Jones nudged him aside.


    Jones paused for a moment, and Flynn wondered whether he was also mentally recovering from their brief stay at Ollivanders. He considered asking Jones about what the hell the old man was, before deciding against it.


    "Robes?" he asked instead.


    Jones grunted and wandered off down the street.


    Flynn followed behind him, though he had trouble keeping his attention away from the wand he was holding in his hand.


    Flynn wasn''t used to owning things. Aside from the few scraps he had scavenged whenever the matron brought an unsorted bag of donated clothing to the orphanage, and even those he never expected to keep for long, given how he left his things unattended whenever he went out to go to school or the gym. Even if he ended up keeping them for long periods of time, it wasn''t permanent, and he knew that.


    Holding something that was ''his'' and his alone wasn''t something he was used to. Did he need to worry about dropping it or having it get stolen? But what if he gripped it too tight? It was made of wood, right? He had snapped dozens of pencils before by holding them too hard, what if that happened here?


    The magic in the wand pulsed slowly. Though it was nothing as intense as what had happened in the store, the feeling brought him a sense of stability. A reassurance that it was powerful. It wouldn''t snap under his fingers, in fact, it seemed to be almost daring him to try.


    Flynn kept a solid grip on it as he followed Jones, until they made their way to a storefront that had a sign that said, ''Madam Malkin''s Robes for All Occasions''. Unlike Olivanders, the store had large glass panes at the front of it, displaying a few sets of robes that looked practically identical to Flynn''s untrained eye.


    Jones pushed the door open and Flynn followed him into the most posh looking establishment that he''d ever been in.


    Though the place held none of the oppressive heaviness that had weighed down on him at Ollivanders, he immediately decided that he didn''t belong here, and would''ve walked out the door if he didn''t remember that this was the only place that the school was paying for. With a frown on his face, he walked further inside.


    Immediately, Flynn saw more than a few eyes turn towards him, with both him and Jones immediately sticking out in the posh establishment that they found themselves in, though Jones at least had clothes that fit him.


    More than a couple of customers looked at them with disdain in their eyes, while some of the employees had their eyes darting nervously between Flynn and a fat lady dressed completely in mauve. Madame Malkin, if Flynn had to guess. To her credit, she gave them a fairly convincing smile as she approached them on behalf of her staff that seemed to be too scared to.


    "Hello," she said, her cheery voice giving away no real emotion. "Are you here for a Hogwarts uniform?"


    "Yeah," Flynn said, even if the lady was looking at Jones. "Flitwick told me I could get my clothes for free here."


    The lady''s smile twitched slightly, though she didn''t break character beyond that. "Do you perhaps mean you have a voucher from Hogwarts?" she asked loudly, as if announcing it to the entire store.


    "Yeah," Flynn answered, taking the envelope from his pocket. He struggled not to react when he realised it was somehow already opened, though after a brief inspection, he saw that the only thing that was missing was the voucher for the wand.


    Cursing the creepy ass old man internally, he took out the two vouchers for the robes and held it out to the lady. She took out her wand and levitated the pieces of paper out of his hand, her polite smile giving off no indication that she used her magic simply because she didn''t want to touch him.


    With how convenient magic seemed, Flynn couldn''t be sure if that was actually the case or not, but he quickly decided he didn''t care.


    "Where do I get my clothes?" he asked, resisting the urge to grab the nearest set off the nearest rack.


    "You''ll need to be fitted for a Hogwarts uniform, my dear," the lady said, as if she could tell what he was thinking. She gestured to the back of the store. "We''ve got another student being fitted as well, in fact. Why don''t you go on ahead and join him? In the meantime, is there anything I can get for you while you wait, sir? Some water? Tea?" she asked, turning to Jones.


    "No thank you," he replied. "I''ll be outside, brat. Don''t keep me waiting."


    Without waiting for a response, Jones turned back and walked out of the store, causing more than a few of the customers to loosen their shoulders in visible relief.


    The lady watched him go, before she turned back to Flynn. "Well, let''s not keep your grandfather waiting, then," she said.


    "He ain''t my gramps," Flynn said, before turning around and letting himself be led through the store, making sure both his hands were visible so she couldn''t accuse him of stealing something if anything went missing.


    The lady let out a noncommittal hum, before she dropped the subject, apparently not finding it worth the effort.


    In the back rooms, a black kid with short hair was standing on a footstool while another employee pinned up his long black robes. Flynn followed Malkin to a spot on the floor, kicking away a footstool that he apparently didn''t need, given his unusual height.


    The kid glanced at him and gave him a nod that Flynn refused to return, keeping his eyes facing forward as Malkin slipped a long robe over his head. Though the feeling of someone handling him like this made it difficult to stay still, it helped that Malkin seemed determined to touch him as little as she could.


    "So," the kid said, apparently undeterred by Flynn''s efforts to ignore him. "What''s Hogwarts like?"


    The question confused him. "How the fuck would I know?" he asked.


    The sudden profanity seemed to surprise everyone in the room, though Malkin and her employee were quick to pretend like nothing had happened.


    "Are you not a Hogwarts student?" the kid asked, speaking a little more cautiously this time.


    Though Flynn might''ve hidden the answer to that question in most cases, he doubted that there was much point here, given the fact that he was getting fitted for a Hogwarts uniform.


    "Apparently," he said.


    Flynn watched the gears in the boy''s head turn for a few seconds before the boy''s eyes widened.


    "Bloody hell," he said. "You''re eleven?"


    Flynn shrugged, ignoring the annoyed grumble that Malkin let out as he shifted his robes. "Maybe," he said. "Around that age, at least."


    "You''re acting like you don''t actually know," the boy said.


    Flynn grunted, and pointedly stared directly in front of him, refusing to lock eyes with the boy any longer.


    Though the boy looked like he wanted to talk more, he gave up pretty quickly, falling into silence and directing his gaze forward as well.


    The boy finished getting his robes fitted first, and gave Flynn a half-hearted wave before he left, though it didn''t seem like he actually expected to get one in return. Flynn obliged by staying stoic and unmoving until Malkin finished up his fitting soon after.


    She used her magic to lift the robe off of Flynn''s head and folded it gently before waving her wand and summoning a nearly identical looking set of robes from a cupboard. With another swish of her wand, a variety of scissors and sewing materials flew at the robes until they were modified to the same size as the first set.


    "I have your vouchers," she said. "You don''t have to pay anything. Thank you for stopping by my store."


    And get out. Flynn heard the unspoken demand loud and clear. He grabbed the floating robes from the air and marched out, without bothering to say thanks.


    On the way out, Flynn passed by the boy from the fitting room, who glanced at Flynn but made no further indication to acknowledge his existence.


    Not caring in the slightest, he walked out of the store and scanned the outdoors until he saw Jones, skulking by the corner of the store.


    "Hey, old man," Flynn shouted. "I''m done."


    "Took you long enough," Jones said, before jerking his head behind him. "Let''s go."


    Flynn made it about ten steps before he was interrupted.


    "Marcus Zabini," a voice said, in almost a whispered tone despite how easily it cut through the loud sounds of the streets. "Is that you?"


    Flynn turned around towards the source of the voice and saw a tall dark-skinned woman with a lithe body and a tight dress that shamelessly showed off every curve it had. Though Flynn hadn''t hit the point where he''d started thinking with his dick yet, and he hoped to never reach it, seeing all the stupid shit he''d seen people do to get their dicks wet, even he couldn''t help but stare for a second before he could harden his emotions.


    When he noticed she didn''t seem to even notice him, her gaze focused on Jones instead, Flynn backed up to stand beside Jones, glaring at the woman who approached him. Flynn glanced up and noticed the old man glaring at the woman, but with no recognition in his eyes.


    "Who''s asking?" he said.


    The woman smiled, a sultry smile that Flynn had seen hundreds of hookers attempting unsuccessfully. She extended her hand, tilting it in a way that made Flynn unsure of whether she expected Jones to shake it or kiss it. When Jones''s hard stare made it clear that he didn''t intend to do either, the woman lowered her hand, though she didn''t seem too offended.


    "Currently Daedra Primrose," she said. "But I was called Daedra Zabini, once upon a time. It''s a pleasure to meet my once brother-in-law."


    "I''m surprised you''ve heard of me," Jones replied, his voice hard. "I can''t imagine my brothers ever speaking about me, no matter which of them you decided to marry."


    "It was Desmond," the woman said, seeming to take no offence to Jones''s less than friendly attitude. "And he wasn''t the one to mention you. I did my own research on your family. I had believed you were dead, if I''m truly being honest."


    "You were right," Jones said. "Marcus Zabini is dead."


    The woman smiled. "Of course he is," she said. She turned to Flynn and smiled, before turning back to Jones.


    "You have a grandson?" she asked.


    "No," Jones said, before Flynn could reply. "He''s nobody."


    "I see," the woman said, looking down at Flynn and smiling again. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both. I''m afraid I have to cut our pleasantries short. My son is waiting for me at Madam Malkin''s."


    Jones offered nothing other than a grunt in response, but the woman didn''t seem to be offended whatsoever. She simply smiled and gave him a short bow before turning around and walking towards the shop that Flynn had just left from.


    Once the door closed behind her, Jones turned around and walked in the opposite direction. Flynn followed him wordlessly, not speaking even when they got back to the pub that they''d left Flitwick at.


    The short man seemed a little tipsy, but more than sober enough to get them back home.


    The second time teleporting proved to be just as disorienting as the first time, but at the very least, Flynn managed not to fall to his knees, stumbling a little, but catching himself before he fell. With Flitwick being eager to leave, he bade his goodbyes before teleporting away almost immediately after taking them back to the gym.


    Silently, Jones wandered off to the side and picked up a pair of boxing gloves and tossed them to Flynn. Flynn caught them, but nearly dropped them when he saw Jones pick up a pair of gloves of his own, rather than the boxing pads he usually wore.


    "Seriously?" Flynn asked.


    Jones shrugged, putting on his gloves before stepping into the ring. "Can''t have a serious talk without some flying fists."


    Flynn never put on his gloves faster before in his life.

 1.3 Family, but not

    Whenever Flynn fought against Tom, it always felt like he was trying to fight against a boulder that was always on an incline, rolling slowly towards him, constantly trying to squash him unless he managed to push it back.


    He hadn''t ever been able to manage to push it back yet, which is why ever spar with Tom always ended up with Flynn facedown on the floor, lying in a puddle of his own drool, sweat, and sometimes blood, but he never gave up on trying. Someday, he knew would be strong enough to push back that boulder, and while that would probably only mean that Tom would actually try, and the boulder would only get bigger and the incline would only get steeper, the task of beating Tom never seemed impossible. Just incredibly difficult.


    Jones, on the other hand, was a different story. While Jones wasn''t as strong or as tall as Tom, only being taller than Flynn by an inch or two, the man exuded an aura of danger that Tom couldn''t hope to compete against.


    If fighting Tom was like trying to push a boulder, fighting Jones was like being a dead pig on a hook, trying to fight back against its butcher.


    Like Tom had said, many times before, Marcus Jones was a goddamn genius.


    Flynn stayed standing, trying and failing to dodge every punch. Whenever he tried to attack back, Jones either reached over and casually pushed Flynn''s fist to the side, before he could even throw the punch.


    The taste of blood flooded Flynn''s mouth, and when he could barely see from how badly his eyes were swelling, he focused on Jones''s feet, listening to the squeak of his soles as he slid across the ring.


    It didn''t work of course.


    When Flynn was barely standing, he felt Jones wrapping his arms around the back of his neck. Flynn couldn''t help but feel a twinge of discomfort at the hug, but not enough to ignore the sudden advantage that Jones had given him. Now that he knew where Jones was, he swung his arm back to give the old man an uppercut.


    But before he could even move his arm, he felt Jones''s arms tighten around his neck, before he felt his body being yanked down and a hard knee sunk itself deep into his gut.


    Flynn fell to the ground, and almost immediately heard the sound of a metal bucket being placed down beside his head. Flynn quickly scrambled for the bucket, propping up his body high enough that he could place his head inside.


    The sound of vomit hitting the bottom of the bucket echoed across the gym. Flynn didn''t have much to throw up, not having had anything to eat since the previous night''s dinner, but it still took a few minutes for Flynn to be certain he was finished.


    When he looked up, Jones was gone.


    Taking off his gloves, he dragged himself to the side of the ring before pulling himself to his feet with the ropes. Though he felt a little unsteady, he managed not to fall as he made his way to the back door.


    Jones was waiting for him outside, sucking on an already lit cigarette.


    "Got any questions for me?" he asked.


    "I already know who you are," Flynn replied, finding a wall and using it to slide down to sit on the rough gravel. "I got everything I needed during our conversation."


    Jones stayed silent for a second before reaching into his pocket and pulling out another cigarette. He squatted down and pushed the cigarette in between Flynn''s lips.


    "If I ever catch you smoking another one, I''ll beat your ass," he said.


    "Fuck you, old man," Flynn said, his voice a little muffled by the cigarette in his mouth. "I ain''t stupid enough to poison myself like you."


    "Good to hear," Jones said, before pulling out his lighter and creating a flame on the first try.


    He held it there until the end of Flynn''s cigarette turned red, and stood back up, turning himself so he was standing by Flynn''s side.


    Flynn coughed almost instantly, but bit down on the cigarette before he could accidentally spit it out.


    "What the fuck?" he said. "How the fuck do you like these things?"


    "I don''t," Jones said.


    "Then why the fuck do you smoke them?" Flynn asked.


    "It''s a memory," Jones replied, tossing his finished cigarette into the metal bucket beside him, and taking out another from his pocket. "I''m not sure why I still do it though. I''ve pretty much forgotten the bastard''s face."


    Flynn rolled his eyes before bracing himself and inhaling more smoke from the cigarette. He managed to hold his breath for a few seconds before coughing again.


    "You''re not as cool as you think you are, Jones," Flynn said. "Trying to be a cryptic old man isn''t your thing."


    Jones shrugged. "Fair enough," he said. "Elizabeth''s father. Strongest man I ever knew. Even with most of his organs spilling out of his stomach, he still managed to punch me in the face and drag me down so I could listen to his final words over the sound of gunfire and mortar."


    There was a long stretch of silence before Flynn spoke.


    "You''re a vet."


    "World War Two."


    "You''re pretty young."


    "Enlisted when I was twelve. I was big for my age and the army was desperate enough to pretend like they couldn''t tell."


    "Just like how Hogwarts is desperate?"


    Jones sighed. "Probably not as bad, but whenever the government''s desperate, it''s a sign of bad things to come."


    "You don''t want me to go," Flynn said.


    "I got no say in what you choose to do, brat," Jones said.


    "You''re right," Flynn said. "You don''t."


    There was a long silence before Jones sighed, and flicked his cigarette into the metal bucket, having finished his second one before Flynn was even halfway done with his first.


    Flynn flinched slightly when he felt a hand on his head, and glared up at Jones. The old man withdrew his hand, pretending like he hadn''t just tousled Flynn''s hair, and walked to the back door of the gym.


    "Spit that out if you don''t like it," Jones said. "You''re ruining my memories."


    Flynn sucked in harder, just to spite him. He managed not to cough this time, even if the taste was somehow worse than when he first started. He forced his face into a glare, just so it wouldn''t turn into a grimace.


    Jones sighed and shook his head, before pushing the door open and heading inside.


    "What was his name?" Flynn asked.


    Jones paused for a moment.


    "Jones," he said, before disappearing through the door.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Flynn leaned back and stared up at the sky, cursing Jones''s stupid war buddy with each inhale he took for having such a shit taste in bad habits. Once he was done with the cigarette, he spat it out into the bucket and stood up, stretching out his sore muscles one last time before walking back into the gym.


    If Jones was even more quiet than usual, Flynn didn''t mention it.


    When Tom came in to teach his classes later that day, he raised an eyebrow at Flynn''s bruises but said nothing about them other than to give Jones a questioning look. When the old man said nothing, he turned his gaze to Flynn, to which Flynn immediately responded with a middle finger.


    He seemed to accept that his help wasn''t wanted and shrugged, before going to the back office and working on the gym''s finances.


    Flynn saw the old man disappear out of the back of the shop, and considered following him for a moment, but decided against it, choosing to stay behind and clean up. While he was still battered and bruised, he''d gotten used to the pain enough to move properly again.


    When Tom came out a bit later, he raised an eyebrow and walked towards him.


    "Mr. Jones sure didn''t take it easy on you, did he?" Tom asked. "Honestly, I''m kind of jealous."


    "Go run into traffic then," Flynn said. "I''m sure you''d get similar results."


    "Har har," Tom said. "I saw some fancy looking clothes in the office. Did you steal them?"


    "Fuck you, Tom," Flynn said, glaring at the older man. "I got them fair and square."


    "I believe you," he said, holding his hands up defensively. "Just making sure I don''t have to beat you up too. Why did Mr. Jones fight you, then?"


    Tom seemed to genuinely believe him, so Flynn dropped his glare and shrugged. "He wanted to talk."


    Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course. Peas in a pod, the two of you."


    "Fuck is that supposed to mean?"


    "You''re a smart kid, Flynn. Figure it out."


    Flynn flipped the middle finger to Tom once more, making the older man laugh, before he turned his attention back to cleaning. Once Tom''s brats started to file in for their boxing class, Flynn made himself scarce and retreated through the back door.


    The back was empty, and Jones hadn''t been spitting his cigarette butts on the floor like he usually did, so Flynn suddenly found himself with nothing to do.


    Sitting down on the floor, still sore from the fight with Jones, he drew his wand from his waistband and inspected it.


    It didn''t look like anything special. From the few wands he''d seen on the streets of Diagon Alley, and from the ones that the old man in the wand shop had shown him, he knew that most wands seemed to have some flourishes and designs to them. But his wand looked like any old stick that he could find on the ground.


    One end was pointed, while the other ended in a gnarled knot of wood. He imagined that the pointed end was where magic came out of, and that the other end was where he should hold it. He tried holding it both ways and immediately decided that his initial hunch had been correct. Trying to hold it the other felt wrong, not in the sense that it didn''t feel comfortable in his grip, but it felt like the wand itself was subtly protesting against being mishandled, even if he didn''t understand how.


    He was busy trying to understand how the wand worked, before he noticed movement.


    Looking up, he saw a woman who always seemed to stand out violently against the dreary setting they were in. Being a smartly dressed, rich looking, blonde middle-aged white lady, already made her the complete opposite of most of the people who hung out in the general area, but what set her apart even more was the way that her smile lit up at the sight of him.


    The woman waved at him from across the parking lot. Flynn sighed when he saw her, but waved back.


    "Hey Flynn!" she shouted, uncaring about how loud she was being.


    Not wanting to shout back, he waited for her to get a little closer before he responded. "Hi Liz," he said.


    Elizabeth Lewis skipped forward, in a bouncy way that might''ve better suited a woman about fourty years younger than she was, but immediately stopped when she got closer. Her smile dropped into a horrified frown before she ran forward, making Flynn flinch back away from her before she got to him.


    It was no use. Using a level of speed that he''d only ever seen from Jones himself, she lunged forward at him and quickly had him in a gentle grasp as she inspected his bruises.


    "Oh my god, Flynn!" she said. "You''re hurt!"


    "Oh really? I wasn''t aware," Flynn said, rolling his eyes and letting himself get manhandled by the older woman. Though he didn''t like it, he knew she would be insufferable if he didn''t let her.


    "Sarcasm is the lowest form of comedy, young man," Liz grumbled, before she lifted his shirt to inspect his stomach. Flynn hissed in annoyance and forced his shirt down.


    Thankfully, she didn''t seem insistent on pulling it back up. "Who did this to you?" she asked, with a glare. "Was it Tom? I know I''ve told that boy to go easy on you."


    "He knows I''ll shank him if he tries," Flynn grumbled, ignoring the way that Liz clicked her tongue at him.


    "I wish you wouldn''t say such horrifying things, Flynn," she said.


    "Well, tough luck," Flynn said. "What are you doing here, Liz?"


    "What? Do I need a reason to visit my surrogate father?" she asked, trying to sound offended, but failing miserably. "Not to mention my favourite little boy in the world?"


    Even if he knew she was just teasing him, Flynn couldn''t stop the blush from rising to his face. "Fuck you, you old bitch," he said, hating how easily she affected him like this. "You sound like a pedophile."


    Liz laughed and tousled his hair, pulling her hand away before he could slap it off.


    "I''m sorry for not visiting more often, Flynn," she said. "I know it''s no excuse, but it''s been very busy at the clinic recently. I even have to go back once Marcus tells me what he wanted from me. Is he inside?"


    Flynn shrugged as he looked away from her, refusing to meet her eyes. "I haven''t seen him in a while," he said. "Do you want to wait inside?"


    Liz frowned, but nodded. "I hope he won''t be long," she said. "I do need to go back to the clinic soon, but he said it was important."


    Flynn wondered for a moment whether it was about his magic, but he quickly decided that there was no point in guessing. Jones would be here soon.


    "We can wait in the kitchen," Flynn said. "Just be quiet. Tom''s teaching a class right now."


    "Sure thing, mister man," she said, giving Flynn a mock salute that he ignored.


    "You should really act your age," Flynn said.


    "Said the kettle," Liz replied.


    Flynn stopped himself from responding, knowing that that was exactly what she wanted.


    "Help yourself to whatever''s around," he said, taking a chair and sitting down.


    "I''ll take a tea, if you would be so kind," she replied, pulling up a chair of her own and sitting down with her arms folded neatly in front of her.


    "We''ve got a water boiler and some weeds growing through the cracks in the concrete outside," Flynn said. "Go nuts."


    "On second thought, tea sounds lovely, but I''ll pass," Liz said, with a full smile on her face.


    Flynn scoffed, and pointedly looked away from her.


    "Soo... How was your day?" Liz asked.


    "It was alright," Flynn replied.


    "Anything interesting happen?"


    "Nope."


    Liz sighed as she hung her head. "Why must you always be so mean to me, Flynnie?" she said, wiping at her eyes. "I''ve gone through two teenagers already. Can''t you just take pity on me and at least pretend to be nice?"


    When Liz let out an obviously fake sob, Flynn glared at her.


    "Shut the fuck up," he said. "Don''t try that shit with me."


    Liz grinned and lowered her hands from her completely dry eyes. "It was worth a shot," she said.


    "It really wasn''t," Flynn said. "You''re a shit liar."


    "That''s not the insult you think it is, Flynn," she said. "It means you know I''m being honest with you when I say you''re my favourite little boy in the whole world."


    Flynn considered glaring at the old bitch, but he knew that would only make her laugh, so he stared at the wall, taking his annoyance out on it instead.


    Thankfully, it didn''t take long for Jones to come back from whatever errand he had been on. He nodded at the both of them when he entered.


    "Took you long enough," Liz said, standing up and hugging the old man. Though Jones didn''t hug her back, he didn''t do anything to stop her either, taking the hug with the same stone-faced expression he always wore. "Sorry I haven''t been by recently. Dr. Phillips retired and I''ve been taking on his patients while we search for a replacement."


    "It''s no problem," he said. "I ain''t old enough that you gotta fuss over me."


    "It''s not fussing, Marcus. We''re family," Liz said, with a huff, though she was still smiling as she let go of him. "So? What''d you call me out here for?"


    Jones grunted, and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden cube. He walked over and set the cube on the table in front of Flynn.


    "Brat," he said. "Tap this."


    Flynn raised an eyebrow, but complied, tapping the box with his finger.


    When nothing happened, Jones shook his head. "Use your wand."


    Flynn raised his eyebrow higher, realizing that the box was probably magical in nature, if Jones made a request like that. Trusting it was nothing dangerous, since Liz was in the room, Flynn took out his wand and tapped the box.


    The effect was immediate, if slow. The box started to creak quietly as it morphed and shifted in front of his eyes, with no joints or visible mechanisms that would allow it to unfold like that, though he supposed magic could ignore the rules. Slowly, the wooden box transformed into a bird, moving in a distinctly animal-like way that would''ve made it impossible to distinguish from the real thing, if it weren''t patterned like it was.


    It opened its mouth, but made no sound as it hopped around on the table.


    "As you can see, the brat''s magic," Jones said. "He''ll be going to a boarding school to learn how to use it. I just wanted you to know, so you don''t freak out when he goes missing for a year. You''ll be able to write letters, but you won''t be able to visit or call him."


    Flynn glanced behind him to see Liz staring with her mouth gaping open as her eyes tracked the bird''s movements across the table.


    "Magic is real?" she half squeaked, half whispered.


    Flynn wasn''t sure whether he was surprised or not at the fact that Jones had never mentioned magic to Liz. From what he knew of him, it was less likely that he was keeping it a secret, and more likely that he just didn''t see the point.


    "Yeah," Jones said, reaching out to the bird with his index finger. The bird cocked its head at the extended appendage, but hopped on after a moment of thought.


    "You knew?" Liz asked, the betrayal obvious in her voice. "Why didn''t you ever tell me?"


    Jones shrugged. "Didn''t see the point."


    Ah. So his hunch had been correct.

 1.4 Hogwarts Express

    A few months later, Flynn found himself in the passenger seat of Liz''s car, trying to limit his nervous ticks to just the frantic strumming of his fingers against his thigh. He hated wearing a seatbelt, being strapped down to his seat like some sort of criminal, but Liz was already agitated, and he didn''t want to turn her attention towards him.


    Even though it had been months, she was angrily ranting about Jones''s betrayal of her childhood dreams as they drove through the streets of London. Though he had accepted her offer to drive him, not wanting to risk even the smallest chance of his luggage being stolen, he was starting to regret it.


    "I always wanted to be a wizard, did you know that?" she said, as they waited at a red light. "While all the other kids were dressed up as princesses and cowgirls for Halloween, I always made a wizard hat and beard out of cardboard and construction paper. I mean, I get that I can''t actually be a wizard, but at least knowing that magic was real would''ve made me a very happy girl. Did he just hate me? I can''t believe Marcus would do this to me."


    "Yeah," Flynn grumbled. "He hates you. You''ve got your answer, now can you shut up?"


    She ignored Flynn''s suggestion, of course, and continued to rant about how terrible of a father figure Jones was, until they got to King''s Cross station. Even after Flynn took out his sole piece of luggage that he owned, a small drawstring bag with his two robes and the Hogwarts acceptance letter inside, along with a few worn out shirts, shorts, and underwear. All of his possessions, aside from the clothes he wore, and the wand in his pocket were in that bag, and he clutched it tight as he walked inside the station.


    He saw a security guard eye him as he walked in, but as soon as Liz skipped after him and patted his shoulders, the security guard seemed to forget he existed.


    "Ooh, I''m so excited, Flynn," Liz said. "Just think about it, a train that takes you to a magical school? What do you think it looks like? Will it be made out of stardust? Will it be pulled along the tracks by dragons, or do you think the train itself will be alive? What if it has legs? Actually, I don''t like that idea. Let''s pretend I never said that."


    Flynn tried his best to ignore the six year old that was trapped in a fifty year old''s body that followed him through the station, and made his way down the station, searching for platform nine and three quarters, like the instructions on his letter had said to. When he got to where it should''ve been, he frowned.


    "I knew it was too fucking good to be true," he said, when he saw nothing there. "We''ve been scammed."


    Though the idea stung, that he could be taken for a fool so easily, he honestly didn''t mind. After all, he''d gotten new clothes and a wand out of it. Even though he hadn''t been taught how to use it, he could make it work.


    "Don''t be silly, Flynnie," Liz said, rolling her eyes. "Of course the super secret train platform wouldn''t be in plain view. Didn''t Marcus say that we had to keep it a secret from other Moogies?"


    Flynn frowned at the name. Though he couldn''t quite remember what the wizards liked to call normal people, he knew it hadn''t been that. But he supposed he didn''t care in either case.


    "Then where is it, Einstein?" he asked, pointing at the empty space between platform nine and ten. "I sure as shit can''t see anything."


    If anything, Liz''s smile seemed to brighten at the emptiness. "I''m not sure, but I''m dying to find out," she said. "Maybe it''s a code word? Or maybe it only opens for the pure of heart? Flynn, was there anything else in that letter of yours?"


    "No," Flynn said.


    "May I see it?" Liz asked.


    "No," he said again.


    "Fine, I''ll figure it out myself," Liz said, sticking her tongue out at him and once again giving him more evidence that the fifty year old doctor was possessed by the spirit of a rather immature six year old. Before he could voice the opinion out loud though, Liz turned towards the space in between platforms nine and ten, and scrunched her face up in a look of what could''ve been intense focus, or the signs of an intense battle against the worst constipation that she''d ever had in her life.


    Flynn sighed and shook his head, but before he could tell Liz to stop, he noticed someone staring at him.


    Two rich-looking adults with startlingly white teeth were looking around the station, with confused looks on their faces, scanning the same area as Liz was. While their eyes passed over Flynn easily, the young bushy-haired girl standing in front of them stared directly at him, her eyes boring into his.


    "You really think they''d include some instructions," Liz complained, completely oblivious to their onlookers. "But you know what, maybe that''s part of the process. Maybe the first step to you becoming a wizard is for you to discover where this missing train is! Wait, would I be messing it up by helping you, then?"


    As soon as she said the word ''wizard'' the two adults perked up and walked towards Liz. Flynn stepped aside for them, even if they barely seemed to notice him in the first place.


    "Excuse me, miss," they said. "Would you happen to be headed to Hogwarts Express as well?"


    Liz whipped her head around, almost whipping the two with her blonde hair as she smiled wide at them.


    "Oh my god, are you wizards?" she asked, managing to whisper in a way that pierced the room. It drew a few odd looks from the passers by, but nobody kept their gaze on her for long.


    "No, we''re Muggles," the man said.


    "Oh, that''s what it was called," Liz said.


    While the adults introduced themselves to each other, delighting in the fact that all three of them were apparently doctors in some form, Flynn warily eyed the young girl that hadn''t taken her eyes off of him since he''d noticed her.


    "Hello," she said, with a voice that suggested that she wanted to seem confident, even if she was anything but. "My name''s Hermione Granger. It''ll be my first year at Hogwarts. It''s a pleasure to meet you."


    Every word and motion she made suggested she was rich, or at least well off, and though Flynn didn''t particularly feel like engaging with her, he also knew that some people could take offence at the smallest of slights.


    For most of the kids he''d interacted with, he didn''t give a shit whether he pissed them off or not, but he wasn''t dumb enough to think that he could apply that attitude to everyone he met from there on out. While he hated the streets that he lived on, he could at least say he knew the rules there, but even though he knew that he was in a much better place than he had been before, he knew he had to be careful.


    "Flintstone Fredericton. First year," he grunted.


    "Flintstone Fredericton? Are you making a joke? Wait, did you just say you''re a first year?" she asked.


    It had been a long time since someone had made fun of his name, but at the very least, the girl seemed more concerned with the possibility of him mocking her, than she was bemused by what his name was. A little bit arrogant of her, but he didn''t mind it.


    "You got a problem with that?"


    Hermione''s eyes widened before she frowned. "Oh, I''m sorry," she said. "I didn''t mean to make fun of you. It''s just that you''re very tall, and your name doesn''t sound very real to me, if I''m being honest."


    "I''m aware," Flynn responded with a shrug. "Ain''t gonna change it though. My mom might''ve been a stupid bitch, but she at least she fucked the right guy and gave birth to me. Figure I owe her for the favour."


    Hermione winced as soon as Flynn''s crude language hit her ears, and he mentally reminded himself that he was going into a place that spoke more proper. He doubted he would be able to stop himself from talking like he usually did on a regular basis, but he knew could at least pretend to be ''civil'' if he put his mind to it.


    "Do you have to speak so crudely?" Hermione asked. "I''m sure your mother wouldn''t appreciate you talking like that about her."


    Following Hermione''s gaze, Flynn''s eyes narrowed when he saw where she was looking.


    "She ain''t my mom," he said, struggling not to cuss the girl out for even suggesting it. He considered telling her more, but he quickly decided against it. There was no reason to spill his life story to a random girl he''d just met.


    Trying to ignore her as best as he could, he stepped forward towards the pillar in between the pillars marking platforms nine and ten, and pressed his hand against it. When his hand passed through the brick, he let out a silent hum of satisfaction and stepped inside of it.


    Aside from the magical entrance, Flynn was surprised to see the platform looking pretty mundane, compared to what he''d seen in Diagon Alley. Aside from the abundance of cats and owls lounging around on the shoulders of students, and the robes that some of the people were wearing, the only thing that stood out to him was the bright red steam engine labelled the "Hogwarts Express". Though solidly built, the thing looked ancient.


    Before he allowed the time to look around some more, he moved sideways, just in time for Hermione to phase through the stone pillar that he''d just walked through.


    "I''m glad to see someone else has read ''Hogwarts: A History'' as well," she said, smiling and giving a prompt nod of approval towards him.


    "I don''t have any idea what you''re talking about," Flynn replied.


    That seemed to surprise Hermione, as her lips turned to a frown. "I really don''t appreciate you lying to me like that," she said.


    The accusation surprised Flynn, but not too much. He was used to being accused of lying. More curious than offended, Flynn turned back to Hermione.


    "And why would you think I''d bother lying to you?" he asked.


    "To make fun of the poor first year, of course," she said, with an indignant sniffle, though she didn''t seem anywhere near crying.


    "If you could remember what I said twenty seconds ago, you''d know I was a first year too," Flynn responded.


    "And you''re rather tall for an eleven year old, aren''t you," she replied, with a huff. "I might''ve believed you if you also hadn''t lied about not reading Hogwarts: A History. You''re definitely a muggleborn like me, given how punk you''re dressed, so unless you read about it already or you''re an older student, there''s no way you could''ve known about the secret entrance."


    The way she said the word ''punk'' almost made Flynn laugh. With how awkward she sounded, it felt like it was the first time she was saying it out loud. Though he didn''t make a sound, something must''ve showed in his expression, because she turned her nose up and walked further down the platform. A few seconds later, her parents emerged from the stone pillar, looking around the magical platform for a few seconds before spotting her and rushing after her, luggage in tow.


    When Liz appeared from the stone pillar, she looked around to admire the setting a bit before her eyes landed on Flynn.


    "Scared her off already?" she asked, giving him a sad smile.


    Flynn shrugged and walked along the platform, looking for a car that didn''t look too crowded.


    "How''d you figure it out anyways?" Liz asked.


    "There was a pillar in between the signs marking platforms nine and ten, right where nine and three quarters might''ve been," Flynn said with a shrug. He passed by the car that Hermione was standing by, as she gave her parents her hugs and goodbyes. "And everybody in the station was avoiding it, like it smelled like shit. I just took a guess."


    "Huh," Liz said, her eyes trailing the tearful goodbyes that Hermione''s mother was giving her, as they passed by. "I didn''t notice."


    "Probably a magic thing," he said, with a shrug. If a stupid orphan like him could figure it out after two minutes, he doubted that none of the normal people that used the station daily would''ve noticed something off if there wasn''t some sort of magic that protected it.


    "Makes sense," Liz said.


    Flynn finally reached a compartment that looked empty enough, near the end of the train and stepped aboard, before he felt something tapping his shoulder. He turned around to see Liz staring expectantly at him, holding her arms wide open.


    "What?" Flynn asked.


    "Aren''t you going to give me a hug?" she asked, with a teasing grin. "You''ll be gone for a year. I''ll miss you."


    Flynn glanced sideways, down the train. Though Hermione had already boarded the train, her parents were straining on their tiptoes to shout some things at her through the windows. From where he was, he could make out a few words about them missing her, and wishing her well, just the typical things that parents would say to their children in moments like this.


    Or at least, that''s what he imagined.


    "You''re not my mom," Flynn said.


    "I know I''m not," Liz said, with her arms still spread open. "But I do care about you."


    Flynn stared at her for a few seconds before he sighed.


    "I''ll miss you too," he said.


    Liz''s smile widened slightly as she lowered her arms, taking what she could get. "I''ll see you next year," she said.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Yeah, yeah," Flynn said, turning around and waving behind him without looking, too exhausted from Liz''s antics to entertain her any further. Saying nothing else, he stepped inside of the train.


    It wasn''t much to look at, that was to say, the train didn''t look like anything particularly magical. It was still the first train that he''d ever been on, and the plush seats looked and felt rich to the point where he felt uncomfortable being around it, but he knew he''d been invited on.


    Though he still wasn''t confident that the conductor wouldn''t just drop by and throw him out the side for being an orphan, he walked down the compartment until he found an empty one and sat down, making sure to sit on his bag so it wouldn''t get stolen.


    Liz had insisted on being early, so the train didn''t move for a while. As Flynn sat in the compartment in silence, keeping his eyes forward, ignoring the window beside him, he discretely rubbed his wand with his thumb, a habit he''d picked up in the few months that he''d owned it. At his touch, the wand thrummed with magic. It sent a tremor of strength through him, resonating deep within his body as he closed his eyes to focus on the feeling.


    His eyes snapped open when he heard the quiet mutterings and footfalls of children outside of his compartment. Taking his thumb off his wand, he leaned back and waited.


    Flynn heard multiple sets of footsteps walking in the train''s corridor. Though he could''ve simply turned his head to glance at the passersby through the small window at the top of the door, he kept his eyes facing forward, determined not to make eye contact with anyone that might be peeking inside, looking for a place to sit.


    More than a few of the footsteps did stop momentarily at Flynn''s compartment, but continued after only a moment''s pause. When the train started to move, Flynn was glad that nobody had stopped by his compartment in the end, preferring the solitude, even if he didn''t plan to sleep at all.


    But just as he had the thought, Flynn heard a set of footsteps coming towards him, thumping in an odd rhythm, like the person responsible for it was either skipping or dancing down the train''s corridors. These footsteps also stopped at Flynn''s door, but unlike the rest, it was accompanied by a rhythmic knocking.


    Flynn glanced to the side to see a short blonde girl with a relaxed smile on her face, peering in through the window. She waved at him, and even when he gave her no reaction, the smile didn''t fade whatsoever.


    Apparently taking his lack of reaction as permission, she slid open the door.


    "Got room for one more?" she asked, grinning like she''d just told a joke.


    Though Flynn supposed it might''ve actually been an attempt at one, seeing as he was the only person in the compartment, which looked like it could comfortably fit four adults.


    "I suppose," he responded, seeing no reason to deny her.


    The girl let out a single bark of a laugh, supporting Flynn''s working theory that the girl didn''t have a great understanding of what a joke was supposed to be.


    "My name''s Lily Moon," she said, stepping inside and thrusting her hand in front of his face. "I''m a first year. Nice to meet ya!"


    Flynn stared at the extended hand for a few seconds before he grunted and took it. "Flintstone Fredericton," he said. "First year."


    "Woah, really?" she asked, her voice full of awe as her eyes looked him up and down. "You''re tall for an eleven-year-old."


    "I get that a lot," Flynn replied. He glanced at their still clasped hands, and at Lily, who seemed to have forgotten to shake it, simply holding it aloft in front of her. "You gonna let go?"


    "Oh yeah," she said, letting go of his hand with another laugh. "I got a little distracted. I thought you were at least a third-year. Say, could I call you Flynn? Flintstone''s a bit of a mouthful. Though I''m fine with calling you Flintstone if that''s what you prefer."


    Flynn frowned, and let out a sigh. "Do what you want," he said, already regretting not trying to scare her away.


    He resisted the urge to sigh again. He did anyway, letting out a loud huff that she couldn''t possibly ignore. She did anyway, giving him a beaming smile and sitting across from him, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.


    "Oh, I''m so excited to go to Hogwarts, aren''t you?" she asked, kicking her feet excitedly, only barely missing his shins with her toes. "What class are you looking forward to most? I think maybe Charms for me, though that''s only because we can only take Care of Magical Creatures starting third year. Isn''t that unfair, Flynn? Think of all the cuddly animals we won''t get to play with. For two whole years!"


    Flynn stared at her blankly and silently. She stared back, just as silently, but with a wide grin on her face.


    It was only when it became clear to Flynn that this girl simply would just stay like that forever, until he gave her a response, he sighed.


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about," he said.


    Lily''s smile faded slightly, as she tilted her head in confusion, before she brought a hand to her mouth and gasped dramatically.


    "Oh!" she said. "You''re a Muggleborn, aren''t you? I''m sorry, I didn''t realize. I mean, I kind of guessed from your clothes, but I wasn''t sure. I''m sorry. I''ve been very rude to you, haven''t I?"


    Flynn was a little taken aback by the intensity of her reaction. If any other person was acting in such an obviously dramatic way towards him, he would''ve probably assumed they were being sarcastic, but the girl sitting in front of him didn''t seem capable of it.


    Flynn crossed his arms and shook his head.


    "I don''t care," he grumbled. "It''s fine."


    Lily smiled once more.


    "Thanks, Flynn," she said. "You''re a very forgiving person, aren''t you?"


    Flynn glared at her. How she managed to get that impression, he had no idea.


    "You''re a bit stupid, aren''t you?" he said, unable to hold himself back from asking, despite his earlier reminders that it would be a bad idea to make enemies when he didn''t know who could make his life more difficult.


    Thankfully, Lily''s smile only widened at the insult.


    "Maybe," she admitted. "Is that a bad thing?"


    "Yes," he answered, though he didn''t know why he bothered. Stupid people got taken advantage of, but her stupidity had no effect on him.


    Lily''s smile faltered, but with a shake of her head, as if she was trying to physically rearrange her thoughts, she put on a smile once more.


    "Oh well," she said, still smiling. "That''s a shame. You''re very bold, you know, telling an impressionable young girl that she''s stupid, right to her face. Has anyone ever told you that you''re quite rude?"


    Flynn shrugged. "I''ve heard it before," he said.


    "I''m not surprised," Lily replied, with a laugh. "You''re a very rude boy indeed, Mr. Flintstone."


    Flynn grunted in response, not knowing what to say, or if he wanted to say anything at all. Though he''d hoped for a quiet train ride to the school, it seemed that he''d been saddled with the most chatty conversation partner he could''ve possibly asked for.


    "Say, what house do you suppose you''ll be Sorted into?" Lily asked, breaking the silence before it could even start to form. "I think I''ll be a Hufflepuff, myself."


    Flynn glanced at Lily, who only gave him a teasing grin in response.


    "You definitely won''t be a Hufflepuff, I don''t think," she said.


    Flynn had to fight the urge to ask what in the hell a Hufflepuff was. He didn''t want to engage the stupid girl any more than he had to.


    Unfortunately, the lack of response only seemed to motivate her into speaking more.


    "Gryffindor? Maybe. You''re certainly brave if you''re insulting your fellow students on the first day of school. But I do hear Slytherins are pretty rude, so maybe you''d fit in there. I don''t know if Ravenclaw would suit you though. You did call me stupid, and you know how the saying goes. It takes one to know one."


    "Hey," Flynn said, with a glare. "Are you calling me stupid?"


    Lily cackled with glee. "Yep!" she said, popping the p.


    Normally, a blatant insult like that would''ve earned her a punch to the face, but with the wide smile on Lily''s face and the giggles that escaped through her lips, he doubted that she was genuinely trying to make fun of him. It was more likely that she was enjoying the sound of her own voice. Besides, he did insult her first.


    So rather than responding, Flynn only let out a huff of annoyance and turned his head towards the window, watching the grassy landscape pass by. He had no idea where they were, though that fact wasn''t surprising to him. He had little reason to recognize the route to a magical school.


    "Aww, I''m sorry, Flynn," Lily said, her voice teasing. "Did I hurt your feelings?"


    Flynn held himself back from rising to the obvious bait. Keeping his eyes firmly out the window, he ignored her as best as he could. Unfortunately for him, that didn''t mean that she stopped talking. In fact, she almost seemed to talk more, now that she didn''t have to pause occasionally to accommodate a conversation partner.


    Lily began to rant about what she was excited to do at Hogwarts, effectively giving him a brief breakdown of what to expect in each of the classes. Flynn wasn''t sure if she was doing it on purpose, knowing that he would be going in blind otherwise as a muggleborn, but he had the suspicion that she was just an idiot, especially with how often she interrupted her explanations to go on random tangents to tell him stories that her parents had told her about their time at Hogwarts.


    Though Flynn hadn''t been keeping track of the time, not that he had any way to, Lily must have talked for hours before a knock on the door interrupted her, halfway through a rant about something called nifflers.


    "Yes? Who is it?" Lily asked politely, as if she were inviting someone into her home.


    The door slid open, revealing a stout smiling woman pushing along a trolley.


    "Anything off the cart, dears?" she asked.


    Flynn glanced at the trolley, and turned his eyes back out the window. While he hadn''t eaten breakfast, he also didn''t have any money to buy anything. Though he might''ve been hopeful that the school would provide meals on the train, given that it was a boarding school, the glaringly colourful spread of food suggested that the lady wasn''t carting around actual meals, only snacks. He doubted they would give those out for free.


    "Two chocolate frogs, and pumpkin pasties, please," Lily said, smiling up at the woman.


    "Of course," the woman said, taking four packages from her cart and placing them in Lily''s outstretched hand. "That''ll be twenty-three knuts, dear."


    Flynn glanced at the bronze coins that Lily took out of her pocket, but quickly averted his eyes to stare out the window. He didn''t intend to steal from her, and he knew it made some people uncomfortable to stare at their money, even if he didn''t think Lily seemed to be the type to mind.


    Unfortunately, the fact that he''d averted his gaze meant that he nearly jumped in surprise when something pressed itself into his hand. He almost flung the unknown object away, until he saw Lily''s smug smile staring directly at him. He frowned at her and glanced down into his hand, where a small purple package labelled ''Chocolate Frogs'' stared back up at him.


    "What is this?" he asked.


    "It''s a chocolate frog. Can''t you read?" Lily asked, under a guise of false innocence. "I suppose you really aren''t Ravenclaw material, are you?"


    "I can read," Flynn hissed. Even if she didn''t likely mean it to be anything more than a joke, the assumption was a common enough one that he was tired of hearing it. "Don''t fucking play with me. Why the fuck is it in my hand?"


    "Language," Lily said, frowning for the first time since they''d met. "And I put it there. With my hands. I don''t quite know how to cast many spells yet, I''m afraid."


    "I don''t have money," Flynn said, thrusting the package towards her. "Take it back."


    "I didn''t give it to you expecting money," she said, rolling her eyes. When she stared back at him, she gave him a grin. "I gave it to you because I thought it would be funny. Open the package."


    Flynn glared at her, but when she hid her hands against her chest to prevent it from giving it back, he frowned and opened the package.


    A chocolate frog stared up at him from inside the package, but before he could ask what Lily was supposed to find funny, the frog jumped off the package and landed on the window.


    Flynn stared at it for a few seconds, before Lily let out a low-pitched whine.


    "I thought you were a muggleborn! Why aren''t you more surprised?" she groaned, crossing her arms and letting out a huff. "I thought you would freak out and everything. Even the frog''s confused!"


    True to her word, the frog tilted its head curiously to the side, as if it didn''t know whether to run or not.


    Flynn simply shrugged in response.


    "Is that not supposed to happen?" he asked. "I just assumed magic snacks would do something magical."


    Lily let out another huff of annoyance and she turned away from Flynn, grumbling angrily. "Fine," she said. "Just eat the dumb frog, Flynn. You ruined my fun, it''s the least you could do to make it up to me."


    Flynn glared at her, but he got the sneaking suspicion that he didn''t do as she asked, she would be even more insufferable for the rest of the train ride. Seeing as he had no idea how long it would be before they arrived, he grumbled and stood up to snatch the frog from the window. It struggled slightly against his grip, but it didn''t seem to be too eager to escape, possibly suspecting that Flynn might not chase after it if it actually got away.


    Flynn bit off the frog''s head and after a few twitches, the frog''s body remained still.


    "That''s one way to eat a chocolate frog," Lily said, her mood getting better almost immediately. "Usually people just shove it all in their mouth in one go. Seems a bit mean to eat it like you do. How''s it taste anyways? Anything like your muggle chocolates?"


    Flynn shoved the rest of the frog into his mouth and swallowed it before responding.


    "It''s too sweet," he grumbled. "And I wouldn''t know. I''ve never had chocolate before."


    "Oh," she said, her face twisting into an awkward smile. "You didn''t have to eat it, if you didn''t like it."


    Flynn gave her an indignant look and she winced before looking to the side, pretending like she couldn''t see him.


    "Point taken. Sorry for forcing you to eat it. On the bright side, pumpkin pasties are a lot less sugary than chocolate frogs are," she said, with a nervous giggle.


    Flynn narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, ignoring the way that Lily gently prodded him with another package, this one a bright orange.


    "No," he said.


    "Aww, come on," she whined, prodding his arm with the package again. "I''m gonna get fat if I eat two of these things. You wouldn''t want me to get fat, would you?"


    "You should''ve thought of that before you ordered two then," Flynn said.


    "Yeah, but I bought the other one for you, dummy," she said, prodding him yet another time. "C''mon Flynn. I promise it''ll be delicious. Flynn? Flynn? Flynn?"


    Flynn scowled and stayed silent, as Lily prodded him and repeated his name over and over, telling himself that she would tire of it soon. It was only after the twentieth time that he remembered that she''d been talking about Hogwarts for hours without stopping before the trolley woman had stopped by their compartment.


    "Fine," he snapped, reaching out and taking the package from her hand. Tearing the package open, he shoved its contents into his mouth. "Happy?" he asked, mumbling around the food in his mouth.


    Lily gave him a smug smile. "Very," she said.


    Flynn narrowed his eyes at her, though she didn''t seem intimidated by it at all, not that any of his glares had worked on her since she''d entered the train compartment.


    "I''ll get you back for this," he growled.


    "That''s a very unique way of saying, thank you," Lily responded, with yet another smile.


    Flynn swallowed his pumpkin pasty, and turned his head to look back out the window. Lily laughed for some reason, and took it as another sign to keep talking about Hogwarts, not bothering to stop to chew when she finally decided to eat her own chocolate frog and pumpkin pasty.


    Aside from a few interruptions where a pudgy looking boy opened their door to ask if they''d seen his toad, and a blond kid reeking of money came by mumbling something about another kid named Harry Potter, the train ride passed by rather peacefully, especially after Flynn managed to tune out Lily''s constant rambling.


    It was dark outside by the time a disembodied voice echoed through the train, despite there being no visible speakers anywhere.


    Magic, he supposed.


    "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes'' time," the voice said. "Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."


    "Okay," Lily said immediately. "Shoo shoo."


    Flynn stared at her until she huffed and grabbed his wrist, pulling at it to make him try to get up, but Flynn didn''t budge.


    "C''mon, Flynn," she said, straining to no avail to get him to move. "You can''t just watch a girl change."


    Flynn raised an eyebrow, but dutifully got up anyway, taking his bag with him. "You''re just pulling a robe over your head," he said, even as he let himself be pushed into the corridor of the train.


    "It''s the principle of the matter," she said, before sliding the door closed with a gentle thud and a click, as she locked the door.


    Looking around, he saw two more boys in a similar situation as him, as well as Hermione, who seemed determined not to lock eyes with him. Ignoring them, he opened his bag and pulled out one of his two robes and pulled it over his head. He put on his drawstring bag underneath his robes, not wanting to leave his precious few possessions behind, not willing to trust the school staff not to rummage through his things if he left them behind.


    When he heard the door open behind him, he turned around to see Lily frowning up at him.


    "What?" he asked.


    "You changed in the hallway," she said. "That''s rude."


    "I literally pulled a robe over my head," Flynn said, once more.


    "And again, it''s the principle of the matter," Lily repeated, shaking her head.


    The train started to noticeably slow before Flynn could think of a response, and seeing the opportunity to pull away from the small blonde girl, he turned around and walked towards the exit. Despite a handful of students pushing their way out into the hallway, trying to be the first to exit, Lily somehow still managed to muscle her way through them, sticking close behind Flynn.

 1.5 Welcome to Hogwarts

    Unlike the station that they''d boarded at, the unlit platform that the train was dropping them off at was dingy and empty, and the students had to scramble onto the forest floor to avoid overcrowding the platform and being pushed off.


    The night air was cold and damp, but Flynn shrugged it off, too used to the cold nights in the orphanage to care about the minor chill. He glanced at the single held aloft a bit further away from the platform and had to stop himself from starting at the sight of the hulking figure that held the lantern aloft. Though Flynn was used to tall adults in his life, the giant of a man would''ve easily towered over them, standing at a height of at least eleven feet tall.


    "Firs'' years!" the man called out. "Firs'' years over here! All right there, Harry?"


    The man smiled wide enough that it was easy to make out his delighted expression, even through the thick beard that covered most of his face. The smile was directed at a small black-haired kid near the front of the group, but the man quickly turned his attention back to the larger group.


    "C''mon, follow me," the man said, waving his hands in Flynn''s general direction.


    Flynn didn''t move until he felt a finger jabbing his side. He frowned down at Lily, who didn''t seem to notice his glare, already walking forwards towards the giant man. Begrudgingly, he followed her, not willing to let the giant cow him into freezing when the small blonde girl didn''t even seem to care.


    "Any more firs'' years?" the man said, scanning the crowd for a few more seconds before seeming to accept that he had gathered all of them. "Mind yer step, now! Firs'' years follow me!"


    Even with only the dim light of the giant''s lantern, the moonlight being cut off by the thick trees that surrounded them, Flynn navigated through the darkness with a familiarity that none of his fellows seemed to have.


    "Ye''ll get yer firs'' sight o'' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant called over his shoulders, seemingly ignorant of the struggle that the majority of the students were going through in their attempts to navigate through the dark. "Jus'' round this bend here."


    As soon as he said it, Flynn stepped past a tree and was treated to an awe-inspiring sight, as the forest seemed to spontaneously clear. Above, in the night sky, countless stars shone down onto a pitch black lake that reflected their glow, creating the illusion of a formless void of space, the centre in which a large castle stood atop a high mountain.


    Though Flynn didn''t join in with his fellow students in their vocal admiration of the sight, it took several seconds for him to realize how intensely he was focusing on the sight, losing focus on everything else.


    Flynn frowned and patted his waistband for his wand, and his back for his bag. Once he managed to confirm that all of his possessions were still on him, he kept his eyes down, not willing to let himself be so distracted again.


    "No more''n four to a boat!" the giant called out, no doubt snapping more than a few students out of their awe-inspired fugues as he pointed to a fleet of small boats sitting in the water by the shore. Still looking a bit drunk with wonder, the students all wandered towards the boats, until everybody had managed to find one.


    Sitting across from him, Lily continued to stare up at the castle with her mouth agape, and her eyes just as wide. A boy with brown hair also sat in their boat, but he seemed similarly enamoured with the sight of the castle and the night sky, to the point where he hadn''t bothered acknowledging Flynn or Lily at all.


    "Everyone in?" the giant shouted, from his own boat. Nobody responded, but with nobody on shore, he seemed to be satisfied enough to point towards the castle. "Righ'' then. Forward!"


    The boats moved simultaneously and smoothly, taking them forwards, silently towards the castle, and for the first time since they''d met, Lily seemed to be content with staying silent. Flynn enjoyed the silence and took a few peeks up at the castle whenever he felt safe to do so, until the boats brought them to a tunnel underneath the castle.


    Even without the sight of the night sky. The students didn''t so much as mutter as the giant led them up a long stone staircase, up to a large wooden door, and knocked on it three times.


    The door swung open immediately to reveal a tall, black-haired woman wearing a set of green robes and a stern expression that reminded him that he was at a school, no matter how magical it was.


    "The firs'' years, Professor McGonagall," the giant said.


    "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," the woman said, as she pulled the doors wide, revealing a ridiculously large entrance hall, wider than Jones''s gym, and tall enough that the flickering light of the torches that lines the walls wasn''t strong enough to reach the ceiling.


    If Flynn had forgotten how rich the school was, and how little he belonged there, it was a quick enough reminder.


    The students followed McGonagall through the stone halls, and though Flynn could hear the droning of a large crowd coming from a door to their right, the woman led them to a smaller room beside it.


    Once all the students had filed in, McGonagall drew her wand from her sleeve and waved it, gently closing the door behind the last student.


    "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses."


    Flynn felt something nudging his arm and he looked down to see Lily waggling her eyebrows at him. He turned his head to look back at McGonagall.


    "The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts."


    Flynn frowned at the mention of family, having heard the matron of his orphanage say the exact word before, whenever a new kid was brought in. Blind or uncaring to his distaste, McGonagall continued to speak.


    "You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room," she said. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."


    Flynn felt another nudge to his side and glared down at Lily, who seemingly hadn''t stopped waggling her eyebrows at him since she''d started.


    He ignored her again, though admittedly, McGonagall''s speech about the different houses and how great they were, and something about getting points to win a cup of some sort, had turned dull enough that he might''ve chosen to watch Lily''s eyes wiggling to entertain himself if she weren''t so oddly smug about it.


    When McGonagall left them alone in the room, announcing that she''d be back to pick them up, Flynn finally turned to glare at Lily.


    "What?" he said.


    "You want to bet on how many people are going to end up in each house this year?" she asked. "I hear it''s a tradition for the older students, but we can get a headstart."


    Flynn stared at Lily, disappointed that he''d even bothered with her. Keeping his ears open, he heard the mentions of a test, and he tried to pay attention for any information that would be helpful, but before the growing conversations between the rest of the first years could get to a point where he could get anything useful out of them, but his attention was quickly drawn away by the sight of a horde of translucent humans phasing through the back wall.


    Though he was among the first to actually see them, their inconspicuous entrance was easily noticed by the rest of the first years, as several of them screamed. Flynn glanced at the door, noting who he would need to push out of the way if it came time to run, but he felt a tug at the back of his robes. He glanced down, ready to give Lily another glare for whatever she was going to say to him, but when he saw her shivering, gripping the back of his robes with a white-knuckled grip, he frowned.


    Flynn reached over to peel her hand off, but paused when he felt how badly she was shaking. His frown deepened, but though he placed his hand over hers, he couldn''t bring himself to peel her fingers away from him. He let out a huff of annoyance as he glanced at the exit, and at the ghostly figures that were starting to notice them. If anything went wrong, he supposed he could just drag Lily with him. He doubted she was too heavy.


    "Hey," he said, annoyed at the way that she was pulling his robes in a way that his collar was digging into his neck. "Calm down."


    Lily glanced up at Flynn, but shut her eyes and looked back down immediately when she saw the hordes of ghostly figures floating above them.


    Flynn frowned, but didn''t know what else he could do to make her less scared, so he simply stood by her, not saying anything even as her tightening grip on his robes threatened to strangle him.


    "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."


    Flynn flinched at the suddenness of McGonagall''s voice, as he whipped his head towards the direction that it came from. He hadn''t noticed her coming in, and though her presence seemed to comfort the majority of the students surrounding him, especially since the ghosts scattered out of the room at her arrival, her stealthy entrance had only put Flynn on edge. Not for the first time, Flynn was reminded of just how out of his element he was and not for the first time, he wondered if he should just leave.


    "Now, form a line, and follow me," McGonagall said, ignorant of the effect her entrance had had on Flynn. Turning around, she led the way out of the room, waving her wand to open and hold the door open, rather than just pushing it.


    The casual use of magic made Flynn sigh and shake his head, reminding him of why he was there in the first place. He ran his thumb over his robes, to touch his thumb to the wand he kept in his waistband, but stopped when the back of his hand hit Lily''s.


    "Sorry," she said, finally letting go of his robes and pulling away.


    Flynn frowned down at her, and looked up, just to confirm that all the ghosts had left the room.


    "You okay?" he asked, though he wasn''t too sure why he bothered. Whether Lily had calmed down or not had no effect on him, especially since she wasn''t clinging to him anymore.


    "Yeah," she said, her lips tweaking upwards in an awkward attempt at smiling. "Just wasn''t expecting ghosts. Sorry," she said again.


    Flynn stared at her for a few more seconds, before turning away, giving her a noncommittal grunt and nothing else.


    When McGonagall led them through the double doors, Flynn''s eyes flickered to the ceiling for a brief moment before he looked back down. He heard a whispered explanation by one of the students that the ceiling was bewitched to look like it opened to the outside, but despite it being just as awe-inspiring as that he''d taken in during his boat ride across the lake, he didn''t spare it a second glance.


    Four long tables spanned over the length of the dining hall, where hundreds of older kids were seated, and at the far end, a separate long table housed the teachers. Though Flynn knew that there was no reason that they would specifically be singling him out, he still felt his skin itch at the feeling of hundreds of gazes pointed towards him. A glare rose in his eyes and a snarl to his lips as he stood in line, staring forward, but avoiding eye contact with any of the other people in the room all the same.


    Flynn felt the gazes in the room shift away from him when McGonagall silently waved her wand to float a four-legged stool in front of the line of first years, then, using her hands for the first time, she lifted an old leather hat and placed it gently onto the stool.


    Flynn focused on the reactions of the staff and the older students, to see them smirking at the hat, but he didn''t stare too long, not wanting anyone to notice his gaze. He glanced to the side, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lily staring up at him. When she noticed him looking, she gave him a smile and grabbed a fistful of his robes to give it a gentle tug. He scowled at her, but before he could think of anything to whisper to her, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.


    The tip of the hat twitched, and a tear in its fabric widened like a mouth. It began to sing.


    Flynn frowned as the hat sang about the Sorting, and the qualities of the different houses, but didn''t pay much attention to it. When the song was over, the dining hall erupted in a loud round of applause as it bowed to each of the four tables.


    Once the applause died down, McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.


    "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"


    "Last chance to make bets, Flynn," Lily whispered from beside him. "I think she''ll be in Hufflepuff. She looks nice."


    When the hat shouted out, "Hufflepuff!" Flynn didn''t bother looking down at Lily, not wanting to see the smug smile that he knew would be on her face.


    "Bones, Susan!"


    "Gryffindor, I think," Lily whispered.


    When the hat announced that the girl would also be in Hufflepuff, Lily let out a disappointed whine.


    The names continued in alphabetical order, and as the first F name was called, Flynn felt himself tense in anticipation.


    "Flintstone, Fredericton!" McGonagall shouted.


    Flynn marched forward with a scowl on his face, willing himself not to make eye contact with any of the students surrounding him. He heard a small handful of sniggers in the silence of the hall, though a majority of the student body and all of the teachers seemed confused about why some of the students were laughing.


    Flynn ignored them as he sat down on the stool. Though the hat was still big on him, being the largest of the first years made it so it didn''t fall over his eyes at the very least, letting him keep an eye on his surroundings while he was being sorted.


    "A paranoid one, aren''t you?"


    Flynn flinched as the voice echoed in his head, but before he could tear it off his head, the voice spoke again.


    "Don''t panic too much, boy. Wouldn''t want your peers to think you''re soft, would you?"


    Flynn frowned, lowering his hands and crossing them over his chest. As much as he hated to admit it, the hat was right.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    "It''s sad to see such a young mind so distrustful. Though I think placing you into Hufflepuff would do you well, but alas, I can not justify placing you in their den as you are. Perhaps in another life, Flintstone Fredericton, but in this one, there is no option other than-


    "Slytherin!" the hat shouted.


    Like they had whenever they were called, the table with the students wearing silver and green clapped enthusiastically enough, but seemed adverse to actually cheering like some of the other houses had. From his first glance at the students sitting there, he''d already pegged them as the stuck up rich kids, which made him surprised that he was headed there, but if what Lily said about the Slytherin house being the place for rude students, he supposed he could accept it.


    "Don''t insult the noble house of Slytherin like that, boy," the hat said. "A Slytherin is driven by their desires for strength, success, and superiority. In other words, power. Sounds familiar to you?"


    Flynn furrowed his brow and pulled the hat from his head. He put it back on the stool, perhaps a little rougher than was necessary, and marched down to the Slytherin table.


    The three other Slytherin first years that had been sorted before him were clapping as he approached the table, but while none of them were giving him outright hostile looks, they definitely weren''t trying to be friendly either.


    The boy, Vincent Crabbe, was giving him a mean look that might''ve been an attempt to dissuade him from sitting next to him. He had his arms and legs spread out wide, as if he was physically reserving the seats next to him for someone else, and though Flynn was confident that he could force the boy to give him space if he really wanted, he didn''t have any reason to go through the effort. He sat across the table from Vincent instead, next to the girls, Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis, if he remembered correctly.


    Millicent gave him a scrutinizing glare, her eyes scanning the top of his head for some reason.


    "Are you related to the Weasleys?" she asked as he sat down. For a young girl, her voice was deeper than he might''ve imagined, though it did suit her stocky appearance.


    Flynn gave her a glare. With how strangely the magics liked to name things, Flynn couldn''t tell if a Weasley was an insult or something else entirely. "You talking shit?" he asked.


    Millicent grinned and shook her head. "No," she said. "I thought you might be one from your hair, but I guess if you''re reacting like that, you aren''t. I''d hate to have their blood in me too."


    He didn''t know whether she was referring to the colour or length of his hair, but he assumed she was talking about how he was a ginger. Though it didn''t seem to be common, he did see more students with buzzcuts. Still unsure of whether he was being insulted or praised for his reaction, even if it seemed more likely to be the latter case, Flynn scowled.


    Millicent gave him another grin, but didn''t say anything else, letting herself be distracted by the names and houses that McGonagall and the hat were shouting out.


    Turning back to the front, Flynn did the same, making sure to memorize the names and faces being called up, just in case.


    When Gregory Goyle was called up, Vincent shifted aside to give up one of the reserved spots to him, though they didn''t sit directly next to each other, making sure to leave a space between them. Flynn recognized Hermione Granger, and he wasn''t sure if he imagined how she purposefully avoided looking in his direction. Draco Malfoy was called to the Slytherin house a few names later, he made his way to the spot between Vincent and Gregory and sat down without even asking, completing the trio.


    When Lily Moon was called up and sent to Hufflepuff, like she predicted, Flynn scowled at her when she looked at his direction and waved cheerily at him.


    And then when Harry Potter was called, Flynn noticed an instant shift in the atmosphere of the room.


    Curiosity, awe, leaked from every face in the room, including some of the staff. When a scrawny stick of a kid stepped up to the hat, looking nothing like what the room''s reaction had suggested, Flynn narrowed his eyes in curiosity.


    Harry was small for his age. Scrawny, tired, nervous, and obviously unused to the type of attention he was getting. Flynn had seen his type before. In the orphanage, the two main methods that the boys used to survive was to toughen themselves up and put up a front that made nobody want to mess with them, or to slink into the background and make people forget that they existed. Harry seemed to flinch at every murmur directed at him, his eyes darting around nervously as he hunched his shoulders forward, as if trying to disappear within himself.


    When the hat called out his house, the respective table let out a roar of a cheer. Students were jumping, laughing, and even hugging each other, but the boy in question seemed to have no idea how to react.


    Flynn narrowed his eyes, making a note to figure out who the hell the boy was.


    Later.


    The mood in the dining hall settled down after Harry sat down at his table, but it never fully returned to the state it had been in a moment ago, with there being an air of excitement that hadn''t been present prior.


    When Ronald Weasley was called up, Flynn was able to confirm that Millicent had been referring to the colour of his hair when she voiced her suspicions of him being a Weasley.


    Once Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin, McGonagall rolled up her parchment and tucked it into the sleeve of her robes, before picking up the old leather hat and walking away with it. Flynn diverted his attention away to stare at Blaise, recognizing his face from the robes shop and his name from Jones''s past, but the boy barely spared him a glance before sitting far enough away from him that he couldn''t see him without awkwardly leaning backwards.


    Flynn quickly stopped thinking about him. A dead name and a brief acquaintance hardly meant anything to him, and as the old man sitting at the middle of the staff table stood up, Flynn directed his attention towards him instead.


    "Welcome," the old man said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"


    The old man sat back down, and the whole dining hall erupted with claps and cheers. Before he could consider whether the old man was crazy or not, and what that possibly meant, Flynn''s eyes widened when the previously empty plates in front of him were spontaneously filled with food.


    He had his hand on a plate of roast chicken breast before he could even consciously decide to take it, pulling it closer to him and dumping its entire contents onto his plate. While he knew he''d been one of the lucky orphans who had a steady stream of food to sustain him, that hadn''t always been the case. He had risked his life for scraps of food for six years before meeting Jones, and without Jones or Tom to slap him in the back of the head if he got too greedy, he easily fell back into old habits.


    He heard a few indignant scoffs coming from the other students surrounding him, including from the older students, but he didn''t bother them a second look as he swallowed as much food as he could stomach.


    "Do those three even bother to chew?" he heard someone say.


    At the comment, he looked up to see both Vincent and Gregory shovelling food down their throats at a similar speed that he was. Unfortunately for him, Draco, who had been looking between his two companions with a look of reserved disgust, happened to meet his eyes at that exact moment.


    Flynn locked eyes with him, not willing to be the first to break eye contact. Draco seemed to think the same way, as his eyes narrowed and his lip curled upward in a sneer.


    "Fredericton, was it?" the boy asked.


    Immediately, he decided he hated the small blonde boy. The fact that the boy clearly thought himself superior, made Flynn want to punch his teeth in. But the boy absolutely stank with the rank scent of money, money that could make Flynn''s life a living hell if he crossed him. While Flynn was confident that he could survive any amount of hell that was thrown at him, he wasn''t stupid enough to call it upon himself for no reason.


    He broke eye contact with the blonde boy, turning his attention back to his emptying plate of chicken. Reaching up, he snagged a plate of spinach from the air and upended its contents onto his own plate.


    "Hey, Fredericton," the boy said. "I asked you a question, didn''t I?"


    Flynn sighed silently as he considered the possibility of just ignoring the kid, but as much as he would''ve liked to, he also knew it wasn''t a viable option. Not unless he wanted to attempt ignoring the kid for the rest of his school life.


    Flynn was about to respond, when he saw a hand grabbing the edge of his plate. Instinctively, Flynn lunged forward with his fork. The fork stabbed into the table, but the owner of the hand, Gregory, let out a yelp of shock and flinched back like it had found flesh.


    "Hey!" an older student said in a whispered hiss from down the table, glaring at Flynn. "The hell do you think you''re doing?! You trying to set a record on how fast you can lose house points?"


    Flynn resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the older boy. "I slipped," he said, glaring pointedly at Gregory, who was cradling his hand like it had the fork stuck inside of it.


    The older student scowled at Flynn, but glanced at the staff table. "Well, make sure you don''t slip again, firstie. Get along or I''ll fuse the lot of you together in a permanent hug."


    Flynn nodded, still staring at Gregory. "I''m sure it won''t happen again," he said, as he pulled his fork from the wood.


    The older student didn''t seem to be convinced in the slightest, but he didn''t say anything else, returning his attention mostly to his own food. Flynn did the same, wiping the fork off with the edge of his robes before shovelling some spinach into his mouth.


    He felt the gazes of everyone sitting around him boring into his skull, but he paid them no mind as he shovelled as much food into his mouth as he could.


    "The fuck do you want?" Flynn asked around a mouthful of spinach, directing it at anyone who cared to answer.


    There was a long silence before someone cleared their throat. Though he didn''t see who it was, he instantly recognized Draco''s voice.


    "I-I was simply wondering," Draco said, stumbling on his words slightly, before powering through. "I''ve never heard of the Fredericton line before. Where do you come from?"


    Flynn considered letting Draco know that it was none of his fucking business, but the question seemed important to the boy. Though he didn''t care about placating the rich kid in the slightest, if he didn''t answer properly, it was possible that the kid would be infuriatingly annoying about it unless Flynn did something to shut him up.


    "Fredericton," Flynn said, around a mouthful of spinach. "A shithole in southeast England."


    "Your family had a city named after them?" Draco asked, a tinge of respect entering his voice.


    Flynn almost laughed at that, and he had to swallow a mouthful of food before he risked choking on it.


    "Fat chance of that," he said, reaching over to grab his cup and a jug from the centre of the table. He frowned when the liquid that came out was a bright orange colour, but drank it anyways. It was disgustingly sweet, tasting exactly like the pumpkin pasty that Lily had bought him on the train, but he forced himself to swallow it anyway. "I''m an orphan," Flynn said.


    "An orphan?" Draco repeated, sounding confused.


    "Means I don''t have any parents," Flynn said.


    "I know what an orphan is," Draco said angrily. He paused before continuing, taking a moment to furrow his brow in concentration before he spoke. "Your parents were our kind, weren''t they?"


    Flynn raised an eyebrow. "You mean white?" he asked. While he wasn''t surprised that Draco would be racist, with him looking like a domesticated neo-nazi, Flynn was hardly a target to pick on if that were the case. He was a ginger, for fuck''s sake.


    "What? Why would I care about that?" Draco asked, sounding more confused than offended. "I was asking if they were from a wizarding family."


    Flynn shrugged. "I doubt it," he said.


    Draco stared wide-eyed at him for a few seconds before his eyes narrowed and his lips curled up into a look of unbridled disgust.


    "You''re a mudblood," he said.


    Flynn scowled. His immediate surroundings had suddenly gone silent, and from the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw the students surrounding him staring openly at him, though he didn''t turn his head to confirm it, not wanting to break eye contact with Draco.


    He had no idea what a mudblood was, but the insult in the boy''s voice was obvious enough. Flynn narrowed his eyes before considering his options. There were a few ways he could deal with this situation, and none of them were perfect, so he decided to go with what he knew best.


    "The fuck are you gonna do about it, bitch?"


    Draco''s face froze. Though his lips were still stuck in a snarl, his eyes glassed over as he seemed to be stunned by the simple insult. Once Draco''s eyes dropped, breaking eye contact with him, Flynn glanced around himself to confirm that the entirety of the first years and a handful of the older years were staring at him with expressions varying from surprise, to fear, to downright malicious anger. The older boy who had told him off earlier was staring at him with narrowed eyes, and Flynn met his gaze until the older boy scowled and looked away.


    As if starting a chain reaction, the rest of the students turned their attention back to their food, taking the occasional peek in Flynn''s direction, but no longer openly staring.


    Flynn turned his attention back to the plates of food floating above him as well, but instead of eating more, he grabbed whatever he could and snuck it into the pockets of his robes, not wanting to let the food go to waste, but not wanting to overstuff himself either. He didn''t want to fight on a bloated stomach if it came to it.


    As it turned out, life at Hogwarts might not prove to be so different from what he was used to, after all.

 1.6 Settling in

    The atmosphere at the Slytherin table remained noticeably thick for the majority of the dinner, but Flynn paid it no attention. Dinners at the orphanage were much more tense than that, and since he didn''t have to physically fight anyone else for food, he considered it to be a good meal overall.


    Even as the pace that the food was being consumed by the other students started to slow, he didn''t hold himself back from eating as much as he could. Even though it felt a little silly to try and gorge himself when the school seemed rich enough to guarantee that he would never go hungry, without Tom or Jones to slap him on the back of the head, it was difficult to ignore the instinct to take advantage of the opportunity.


    He could hear some muttering from the older students about his eating habits, even if the other first-years were completely silent, but he ignored them. At least the magical plates seemed to be eager to serve him, swarming to him when it was clear that the other students had their fill. Flynn didn''t understand if they were sentient, or if they were being controlled by a master that he couldn''t see, but he decided it wasn''t important and simply ignored his curiosity to continue to grab the food from the plates, discretely stuffing food into his robes when he started to realize that he didn''t have the space in his stomach.


    At some point, a handful of desserts started to appear on the plates, which seemed to be the highlight of the meal for most of the children around him, with the tension that surrounded the table somewhat deflating upon their arrival, but still, none of the first year students seemed to want to talk beyond a whisper to their immediate neighbours.


    Though Flynn kept his eyes pointed down at his food, he snuck glances up at the other students whenever he could get away with it.


    Though a majority of the students sitting at the table seemed content with pretending like he didn''t exist, but a few of the students had different reactions to him. Millicent and Theodore, his direct neighbours, seemed to be confused about how they should be acting around him. The moment that Draco had insulted him, they had recoiled away from him as if they suddenly decided that he smelt like shit, but though they both sent a few sneering glares in his direction, they seemed confused when he ignored them. Though Theodore looked like he had wanted to say something at multiple points throughout the dinner, his eyes always glanced at the tiny holes that Flynn had made in the table with his fork before he seemed to think better of it.


    Sitting across from him, Draco seemed confused about whether he should be confused, scared, or angry at what Flynn had done. He seemed to slip further into anger as the dinner went on, and though Flynn was more than aware of the possibility that he may have just pissed off a rich kid with enough money to make his life insufferable during his time at the school, he couldn''t find it in himself to regret insulting the blonde bitch.


    As the dinner went on, Draco went from eating in silent shock, to whispering to his cronies while giving Flynn pointed glares, to muttering just loud enough that the entire table could pick up tidbits of his conversation.


    The words, disgrace, respect, and mudblood were the few words that Flynn was able to pick up, but while it was irritating enough that it should''ve earned the blonde bitch a punch in the mouth, the insults were mild enough that he had no reason to want to start a fight, especially when there were so many witnesses around to see him throw the first punch.


    Flynn ignored Draco''s passive aggressive bitching for the entirety of the dinner, content to let it go for now, especially with how full his stomach was.


    Once the dinner feast finished in earnest, the end marked by a clap from the old man at the head table and a few words about the rules of the school, the hall erupted in sound as the students got up and filed out, chatting with each other as they left the room.


    "First years to me!" an older boy at the other end of the Slytherin table shouted.


    With no reason to break from the crowd, Flynn followed along as the rest of the first-years dutifully got up and moved over to the shouting boy. The boy introduced himself and the girl standing beside him as the fifth-year prefects, Reginald Yaxley and Alice Burke, and though the word was unfamiliar to Flynn, the obvious way that the older boy tried to intimidate the younger kids made it obvious that it was some sort of position of power.


    While the boy continued to talk about the castle that they were in, as well as the nobility of the house of Slytherin and some crap like that, Flynn pretended to listen while he kept an eye on the girl standing beside him who was sending obvious glares of disgust and hatred in his direction.


    Flynn matched her glare with his own, and was surprised to see her refusing to back down, only breaking her glare when the other prefect tapped her on the shoulder. She gave Flynn one last sneer before looking over the rest of the first years.


    "Alright firsties," she said. "We''re heading to the dungeons now. It''s not difficult to get lost if you don''t know the way. If any of you lose your way in the corridors, you''re sleeping there. I''m sure as hell not going to look for you."


    Reginald grimaced at Alice''s words, but didn''t reprimand her. He simply sighed and rubbed his temple for a moment, before looking back up at the first-years.


    "Alice has a weird sense of humour," he said. "But she isn''t wrong when she says it''s easy to get lost. Hold hands if you have to. I''d rather not spend my first night back at Hogwarts hunting down firsties instead of spending it in bed."


    The other first-years glanced at each other''s hands, as if seriously considering Reginald''s suggestion, but ultimately decided against it, simply sticking close to the prefects in a disorderly crowd.


    The way to the "dungeons" wasn''t nearly as complicated as Alice made it out to be, even if he could see how people might get lost in the winding corridors if they weren''t paying attention, and it didn''t take long to arrive at an ornate door decorated with silver snakes that curled around the borders.


    "You must speak a password to enter the dormitory," Reginald said. "The password will change monthly, and the new password will be posted in the common room for three days before the first of each month. If you forget it, and you have nobody to let you in, tough luck. I hope you enjoy sleeping on cobblestone."


    "For the entire month of September, the password represents what all Slytherins should strive to be," Alice said, with a pointed gare towards Flynn. "Pure."


    Flynn glared back at Alice, but when the older girl refused to look away from him, only responding with a sneer, Flynn let out a low growl.


    "Okay, fine. I''ll fucking bite," he said. "What''s your fucking problem with me, bitch?"


    Reginald frowned, but before he could say anything, Alice let out a short bark of a laugh.


    "What a surprise," she said. "You''ve got a mouth as filthy as your blood, don''t you, brat? Hasn''t anyone told you to respect your betters, or are mudbloods not taught something as basic as that?"


    It was difficult to get angry at an insult when he didn''t even know what it meant, but the obvious challenge behind her words was enough to make Flynn''s anger flare up.


    "You think you''re better than me?" Flynn asked, with a laugh. "You''re just a bitch that was never taught to stop barking. I suggest you shut the fuck up before someone decides it''s finally time to put you down."


    Though Reginald''s eyes narrowed at him dangerously, Alice let out a dark chuckle.


    "Alright, firstie," she said, reaching into her pocket. "Looks like you''ve just volunteered to spend your first night hanging upside down from the ceiling."


    "Burke," Reginald said, putting his hand firmly on her shoulder. "I''m not going to cover for you if Snape starts asking questions about why one of the firsties that we were supposed to be in charge of is hanging from the bannisters. At least wait until tomorrow if you want to do something stupid."


    Alice let out a sound that was close to a hiss as she tried to shake Reginald off her shoulder. With how small she was, with Reginald being about a head taller than her, she didn''t have any success in brushing him off.


    "Piss off, Yaxley," she said, taking her hand out of her pocket to slap his hand off of her. "I was just joking."


    "Of course you were," Reginald said, letting himself be pushed away once he saw that Alice''s hands were empty. "Why don''t you do the honours and demonstrate how the password works then? I don''t see much of a reason as to why we should be standing out here any longer."


    Alice glared at Reginald, but let out a huff before turning to the door.


    "Pure," she said, practically spitting out the word.


    Some of the other first years gasped as the snaked around the door came to life, uncoiling themselves and gently nudging the door open with their heads. Wordlessly, Flynn let go of his wand and took his hands out of his pockets, though he made sure to keep his eyes pasted on Alice''s back, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements.


    Flynn heard a few gasps from the other first years as they entered the common room, and though he was focused on making sure that Alice wouldn''t turn around and attack him, the little of the common room that he saw out of the corners of his eyes was admittedly impressive.


    Though the green lighting was a bit tacky, and the entire room absolutely reeked of old money, the floor to ceiling windows showed that the common room was underwater. Around the room, Flynn saw a couple of older students chuckling at the sight of the first years being so captivated by the room, though more than a few of them seemed to be glancing at his direction specifically.


    Flynn thought of glaring at them, but was interrupted when Reginald spoke up once again.


    "I''ve had a long day, so I''ll be brief," he said. "Dorms are to either side of the common room. Boys to the right, girls to the left."


    Reginald opened his mouth again, as if to continue speaking, but pursed his lips together when he saw a hand waving in the air. He narrowed his eyes in thought, as if he were thinking about whether he should pretend like he somehow hadn''t noticed the waving hand that was directly in front of him, but he seemed to think better of it.


    "What is it, Malfoy?" he asked.


    "I just wanted to ask a quick question, if you don''t mind," the blonde bitch said, ignoring the expression on Reginald''s face that clearly displayed exactly how much he did mind. "I was under the impression that the dorm rooms are separated and shared by year and gender?"


    Reginald narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious of the question. "Yes they are," he said, a little cautiously.


    "Would it be possible, under special circumstances, for students to be given their own private rooms?" the blonde bitch asked.


    "Traditionally, students will room together to create a sense of unity between their fellows," Reginald said. "You seem to be fine to me, Malfoy, but if you''ve got a legitimate concern for your health, I suggest bringing it up with our head of house."


    "Maybe I will," the blonde bitch said. "I''m not particularly sensitive to smells, but I''m not sure if I would be able to sleep properly with the stench of mud constantly hanging in the air of our dorm rooms. I can only imagine it will start to smell like a swamp in a few days, given the presence of certain... occupants."


    The blond bitch''s cronies let out a pair of loud guffaws, immediately after the blonde bitch stopped talking, as if they''d just heard the funniest joke in the world. There were a few other chuckles from the older students that were scattered around the room, but the other first years didn''t react in any way that was noticeable, either because they didn''t think the blonde bitch''s joke was funny or because they were too intimidated by Flynn to react in any way that was noticeable.


    Though Flynn knew that he shouldn''t resort to violence with so many witnesses around, especially when the blonde bitch hadn''t thrown the first punch, the smug grin that the blonde bitch threw in his direction made it very difficult to resist the urge that rose within him.


    Though Alice cackled in delight beside him, Reginald let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.


    "Do whatever you want," he said. "Bring it up with Snape. Not my problem. Anyways. Other house rules. Topical subject inbound, but rule one is to never bother Snape unless it''s for a good reason. He''s a busy man and if you waste his time without good reason, he''ll make sure you regret it."


    The blonde bitch laughed, as if Reginald was telling some sort of joke, even though he clearly wasn''t. Reginald shook his head again, and continued to talk, as if the blonde bitch hadn''t interrupted him.


    "Rule two. No infighting where teachers or students from other houses can see it. Slytherin has always prided itself on being a united front, or at least appearing to be. I''m not asking you to hold hands and sing and dance together, but every time a snake bites another in public, our image grows weaker in the eyes of Hogwarts as a whole. And above all else, Slytherin must be strong."


    Both the blonde bitch and Alice frowned at that, with the latter looking like she was being forced to eat a raw lemon.


    "And speaking of public image," Reginald continued. "Snape pulled me aside to make sure that all of you understand that even if we have some newcomers of questionable lineage, that any usage of slurs should also remain behind closed doors. If I or another prefect catches you calling Fredericton a mudblood while a teacher is watching, we will be forced to dock points from you. I don''t care how stupid it is. That''s the rule. And if a Slytherin prefect is forced to take points from their own house, we''ll make you regret it. If it helps, think of Fredericton as a pureblood that was stolen from his cribs by a group of savage mudbloods, and raised as one of them. Maybe he''s the fucking heir of Slytherin, for all we know."


    The blonde bitch laughed.


    "That oaf? The heir of Slytherin?" he asked.


    "Sure, why not? I''m not asking you to believe it. Just deal with it," Reginald said. "Anyways, that''s the last of the important rules. If you want to ask me anything else, piss off. I''m going to bed."


    Without giving the opportunity for anyone to stop him, Reginald walked off to the boy''s dorms, leaving the rest of the first years and Alice behind. After a moment of silence, Alice shrugged and walked off as well.


    "You heard him, firsties," she said. "Piss off and go to bed. Or don''t. I don''t really care either way."


    Though the other first years seemed stunned by the abruptness of the prefects'' exits, Flynn wasted no time in heading towards the dorm rooms, hoping to scope out the room before anyone else could. Walking over to the boys'' dorms, Flynn easily found the door marked with a 1, and pushed the door open. Inside was a series of beds laid out in rough circles, with posts and curtains around each bed, though the curtains were currently open.


    Beside each bed except for one, there were large piles of suitcases and general luggage surrounding them, which made him assume that his bed was the only one that was empty, but he frowned when he saw how close his bed was to the entrance. Looking at the foot of the bed, he frowned when he saw his name engraved there.


    At the orphanage, he used to always claim the spot that was deepest in the corners, so he would at least be guarded on two sides, but with the circular shape of the room, he supposed there was little advantage that could be had in any of the spots. Forgetting about the bed placement for now, he opened the only other door in the room to see a large communal bathroom space. The main bathroom area held six sinks, and there were two doors that led to separate rooms with three toilets and three shower stalls respectively.


    Before he could investigate the space any further, he heard the chatter of the five other first year boys as they walked into the dorm room, but he didn''t think there was much else to explore so he went out to see what they were doing.


    As soon as Flynn stepped out of the bathroom, the chatter died down, as if they hadn''t expected him to be there.


    Though most of the boys quieted down at his appearance, the blonde bitch almost immediately scoffed.


    "Oh, you''re here," the blonde bitch said. "With how quickly you ran off and how quickly you shoved food down your throat during the feast, I had assumed that you were rushing to the loo. You haven''t already stunk up the bathrooms have you?"


    The blonde bitch''s two cronies guffawed beside him on cue, and Draco''s grin twitched upwards at the "positive reception" of his joke, but unfortunately for him, Flynn was no comedian.


    Flynn walked forward, and though he didn''t take any particular pleasure at the way that the blonde bitch flinched, and his two cronies immediately stopped laughing, he couldn''t claim that he hated it either.


    He walked forward and put his hand on Draco''s shoulder, soft enough that it just barely wouldn''t classify as a "hit".


    "Draco," Flynn said. "Keep talking shit and I will hurt you."


    To his credit, it took a surprisingly short time for Draco to recover from his momentary shock. Despite the immense size difference between the two, and the fact that he had to crane his neck almost completely backwards to look him in the eyes, Draco still managed to give him a smug grin, like there was nothing that Flynn could possibly do to hurt him.


    "Oh, did I offend you, your majesty?" he asked. "I didn''t mean to offend your royal sensibilities. Please find it in your heart to forgive your humble servant, Lord Slytherin. I''m sure I''ll get used to the smell of mud soon enough, or perhaps I''ll write to my father to ask for a bottle of his finest perfumes to offer to you."


    Draco''s cronies guffawed again, and this time Flynn heard a few quiet chuckles coming from the other two boys, Theodore and Blaise. Flynn kept his glare trained on Malfoy''s smug grin, and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before letting go.


    "Don''t say I didn''t warn you," Flynn said.


    "Of course, your majesty," Draco said, with a mocking bow. "As you wish. I shall not say a word."


    Flynn stared at Draco, wondering if the satisfaction of punching him right now would be worth the certain and immediate expulsion from the school. He quickly dismissed the idea. He didn''t plan on letting Draco go untouched for his disrespect, but Flynn wasn''t stupid enough to think that he was still in the streets. Giving up his chance to learn genuine magic just for the momentary satisfaction of hosting a graduation party for Draco''s teeth from his mouth just wasn''t worth it, especially with how much social pull the small boy seemed to have within the school.


    If he was going to hurt Draco, Flynn knew he would have to be smart about it.


    Wordlessly, Flynn walked away from Draco and went back to the washroom. Taking out the bag he still had under his robes, he took out his toothbrush and toothpaste and started to brush his teeth at the sink that was labelled with his name. Once he was finished, he patted his toothbrush dry on the small towel that was hanging from a hook beside him, and put his toothbrush back in his bag, not trusting his roommates to not mess with it if he kept it in the cup by the sink.


    Though the toothbrush immediately got dirty again, from the food that he had stashed away in his pockets and bag, he didn''t mind it too much. The whole point of a toothbrush was that it cleaned up food bits, so what did it matter if it got dirty in his mouth or in his bag?


    He considered showering for a moment, but he hadn''t worked up a sweat at all that day, so he didn''t see a need for it.


    With nothing else to do, he went back to the bedroom, where the other boys were busy unpacking their various suitcases.


    Flynn kept himself from reacting too heavily to the casual magic of the other boys'' luggage containers, keeping his face straight as Blaise pulled an absurd amount of clothes from a small suitcase that seemed entirely too small to fit even a quarter of what had been inside of it, and how Draco tapped his own suitcase with his wand, and the entire thing shifted and morphed into a tall dresser.


    "May I help you with your luggage, Lord Slytherin?" Draco asked, though his cronies seemed to be too busy with their own luggage to have noticed the comment.


    "Eat shit," Flynn replied.


    Flynn simply sat in his bed, cross-legged with his back against the backboard as he watched the other boys for any suspicious movements. After about half an hour, Blaise spoke up.


    "You know you can close the curtains, right?" he said. "They''ve got privacy charms on them."


    Flynn glared at Blaise, and though the boy met his gaze, it was without any sort of malice. Flynn glared at Blaise for a few more seconds before he decided that the boy probably wasn''t mocking him.


    "What are privacy charms?" he asked.


    With Draco currently showering, Vincent tried chuckling at Flynn''s question in his stead, but his laughter died down when he seemed to realize that he couldn''t think of an insulting comment to go along with it.


    "They block off sound from coming in and out," Blaise said plainly. "They''re also enchanted so once you close them, you can''t open them from the outside. It''s not protection, mind you, since they''re still just curtains and you could probably tear through them pretty easily, but at least it stops you from having to listen to other people snoring."


    "Thanks for the info," Flynn said, with a nod.


    There was a long pause before Blaise let out a sigh.


    "I''ll be honest, I told you that because I was hoping you would close your curtains and go to sleep," he said. "It''s a little unnerving to have you just sitting there silently and staring at the rest of us."


    Flynn shrugged. "I don''t trust you lot to keep my eyes off of you," he said simply.


    Blaise raised an eyebrow, but after considering the comment for a moment he shrugged.


    Aside from a few halfhearted insults from Draco, nobody else addressed Flynn for the rest of the night, trying their best to ignore his stares and gradually closing their curtains one by one. It was only when the last boy closed their curtains, that Flynn laid down in his bed. He closed the curtain partially, leaving it open enough that he could still see each of the other beds in the room.


    Once enough time passed that he was confident that the other boys were asleep, he put his hand in his pillow and closed his eyes. Though Jones and Liz had forced him to leave his shiv behind, his wand was sturdy enough that he was confident that he could use it as a stabbing implement if necessary. Even if it would obviously do a lot less damage without a sharp tip, the steady thrum of power that pulsed through the wand, barely tangible in his skin, reassured him in a way that his shiv never had, and he fell asleep faster than he ever had before.


    ---


    "You''re horrible at this, Fredericton."


    Flynn shot a glare at Blaise, his partner for the floating charm exercise.


    "I noticed," Flynn grunted. "Now will you shut up and let me concentrate?"


    "I think you''ve been doing too much concentrating if you ask me. I can see your veins popping up in your neck. I don''t think Professor Flitwick said anything about holding your breath, either."


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    "You want me to punch you?" Flynn asked.


    "No, not at all."


    "Then shut up and let me do this."


    Blaise raised his hands in surrender, and mimed zipping up his lips. Once Flynn was satisfied that Blaise wouldn''t talk during his next attempt at the spell, he glared down at the feather on his desk.


    Holding his wand up to it, he flicked his wrist and stabbed his wand towards the feather.


    "Wingardium leviosa," he said, loudly and firmly.


    Once more, Flynn felt the same sensation that he''d felt the past fifty times that he''d attempted the spell. Magic swelled within him, riding in waves towards the conduit that was his wand, but despite the sensation of magic that was pooling in the tool, it refused to leave it in a concentrated sliver of magic. It was like the magic was sticking to the wand like molasses, being held back by some force that made the spell come out incomplete.


    The feather twitched, but nothing else happened.


    "You''ve got some progress going there, Fredericton," Blaise said. "You''ve consistently made that feather twitch three times in a row. Good show."


    "I swear I''m going to kill you, Blaise," Flynn replied. "How the hell did you do it?"


    Blaise shrugged, not reacting to the death threat whatsoever.


    "I''m flattered that you think I can teach you, but I''m not sure myself," Blaise admitted. "It''s just kind of a feeling. I wanted the feather to float, and it kind of just happened. Kind of."


    Blaise pointed his wand at his own feather, and uttered the spell casually, making the feather float gently into the air. Though it didn''t stay level for longer than two seconds, which meant that he still hadn''t gotten the hang of the spell as per Flitwick''s requirements, it was still a much better showing than Flynn''s attempts.


    "Just a feeling," Blaise said. "It''s a bit of a delicate touch, if I had to describe it. Maybe that''s why you''re having trouble. You do seem like the heavy-handed sort."


    "Shut the fuck up," Flynn said.


    "I''m afraid I''ll have to take five points from Slytherin for the foul language, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, with a frown and a shake of his head as he passed by them. "Please keep in mind that you''re here to learn, and while frustration certainly is a common symptom of the learning process, losing yourself to it will only inhibit you further."


    Flynn had the urge to curse out Flitwick even more in response, but thought better of it. While he didn''t give a shit about whatever the hell house points were, he didn''t want to make himself a needless nuisance to the teachers.


    "Then what am I supposed to do?" Flynn asked, only barely holding himself from inserting a few "fucks" in the short sentence for emphasis. "Whatever I''m doing clearly isn''t working."


    Flitwick considered the question for a moment, before he swished his own wand in front of Flynn.


    "Mr. Zabini''s advice, though vague, wasn''t entirely off the mark," Flitwick said, giving Blaise an exaggerated wink. "The spell does require a delicate touch, and the ''feeling'' of the spell is important, though I will say it''s not the thought of wanting the feather to float that''s important, but rather the manifestation of that feeling. Your wand movements must be delicate and light, as if it is your wand that is about to float, not the target of your spell. I will suggest that you are gripping your wand with too much strength and tension in your muscles than the spell calls for. Why not relax a bit?"


    Flynn frowned and looked at his hand to see that his entire hand was gripped around his wand like how he might hold a club, not anything like the delicate grip that Flitwick had on his.


    But before Flynn could make another attempt on the spell, Blaise swished his wand beside him and chanted the spell. The feather floated up in the air and stayed there.


    "Oh wow," Blaise said. "That actually worked."


    "Wonderful! Wonderful!" Flitwick said, clapping his hands. "Ten points to Slytherin for such a perfect display!"


    Flynn frowned and tried his own attempt while Flitwick was distracted, but when he tried to grip his wand that Flitwick had, it somehow felt wrong. With only a few fingers supporting his wand, rather than his whole hand, it felt like his wand was almost detached from him, rather than being a part of him. The flow of magic felt stifled and choked and when he tried to push out his magic, he felt a jolt of energy sting his fingers, like a spark erupting from a plug.


    "Fuck!" he shouted, dropping his wand more from surprise than pain. As his wand clattered on the floor, a wild bolt of magic erupted from it, igniting the bottom of the desk he was sitting at.


    "Five points from Slytherin," Flitwick said, casually waving his wand and erasing the small flame from existence. "Not for the mistake but for the repeated use of foul language. Please be assured that I will not take away house points for any mistakes you may make. In fact, mistakes are encouraged, as it is all part of the learning process."


    When Flynn heard a series of giggles coming from behind him, he turned around to give Draco and Vincent a death glare.


    Flitwick frowned up at them as well, but didn''t do anything to stop them.


    "I''m certain you''ll get it with enough practice, Mr. Fredericton," he said. "But for now, why don''t you try practising the motions and get used to them without actually attempting to cast the spell? Whenever I have trouble with a spell, I like to break it down into parts. Since your incantations are spot on, maybe isolating your wand movements will help?"


    Flynn gave Flitwick a half-hearted glare, but whether the teacher was giving genuine advice or if he was just trying to stop Flynn from setting more fires, Flynn had to admit that he had a point.


    "Fine," he grumbled, before holding his wand in his hand again, swishing it around in a bad approximation of what he had seen from Flitwick.


    It felt wrong, both the way he was gripping his wand, and the fact that he wasn''t pushing any magic into it, but he wasn''t stubborn enough to think that he knew better than a man who had been able to create a localized hurricane in Jones''s gym.


    Even so, the wand movements felt irritating to practise when he couldn''t even push magic into the wand. It felt like he was about to get a cramp in a muscle he didn''t have, that he should be flexing and stretching out his magic before he pulled something he didn''t want to.


    But he still listened to Flitwick''s advice, ignoring how wrong it all felt.


    At the end of the class, he tried casting the spell a few more times, but still his feather barely budged.


    ---


    "Hiya, Flynn."


    Flynn glared down at the familiar blonde.


    "What do you want?" he asked.


    "Is that any way to greet a friend?" Lily asked. "You''ve gotten so rude since I last saw you. Time can really change a person, huh?"


    "I saw you less than a day ago," Flynn said.


    "Oh how the time flies," Lily replied.


    Flynn sighed, rubbing his temple. "What do you want?" he asked again.


    "To pair up with you, obviously," Lily said, with a roll of her eyes. "I can only imagine those nasty Slytherin boys haven''t realized what a sweet boy you are. You were probably lonely in your last class too, weren''t you?"


    Flynn narrowed his eyes at Lily, vowing silently that he would never allow her and Liz to meet.


    "I''m not lonely," he said.


    "But you still need a partner," Lily said. "And I''d rather save some poor Hufflepuff from having to deal with your rougher edges. We''re a softer bunch, at least more so than the Gryffindors. Your first class was with them, right? I can only assume that''s the case since we had the Ravenclaws. Real smart cookies, those ones."


    "We did have the Gryffindors," Flynn said. "But it''s not like I was partnered up with one."


    "You made a snake friend?" Lily asked.


    "Not a friend," Flynn replied.


    "Where is he, then?" Lily asked anyways, making a show of looking up and down at the spot beside him, as if inspecting an invisible partner. "I don''t see him."


    "He said that he doesn''t want to be dragged down with me," Flynn admitted, not sure of why he was even bothering to tell Lily this information. "Charms was fine, but apparently it''s more likely that Herbology involves group assignments and he doesn''t want his marks to suffer."


    "Ooh, sounds very Slytherin of him," Lily said, nodding to herself.


    Though the benign comment wasn''t insightful enough to deserve any sort of reply, Flynn didn''t even have a chance to respond as Sprout clapped her hands together to draw the attention of the class.


    "I hope all of you managed to find someone to partner up with?" she asked.


    "Yes, Professor Sprout," a few of the Hufflepuff students, including Lily, chimed out.


    Sprout beamed at her students, but did a quick scan around the room to confirm that nobody was without a partner.


    "Well then, without further ado, I''d like to introduce all of you young saplings to the wonderful world of Herbology! This class might be a little different from all of the other classes you''ll have in Hogwarts, but it can also be the most fun," she said, with a wink. "I hope you don''t mind getting your hands dirty, because a lot of this class will involve the practical application of tending to and harvesting magical plants, and by extension, the soil that they live in. We''ll start off slow by repotting nibbler roots. Though their teeth may look sharp, their name betrays the extent of damage they can actually do. Though it may sting a little, their bite is completely harmless, and we''ll be wearing the proper protective equipment to ensure that it doesn''t happen anyway, won''t we?"


    After a bit more lecturing on the importance of safety precautions, no matter how benign a magical plant was, it didn''t take long for her to hand out small planter pots of nibbler roots, and larger pots for them to be repotted into.


    Once he was given the signal to start, Flynn grabbed one of the planter pots, pulled out the nibbler root. The nibbler root whined angrily at him, but he ignored it and pushed it into the soil of the new pot, packing it deep into the soil like Sprout had demonstrated. The whining stopped almost immediately, and though the root''s ''mouth'' was submerged in soil, he could still hear it making a quiet sigh of relief.


    Taking it as a sign that he had done well, he took out another nibbler root and planted it in a similar fashion, repeating the process twice more until Lily whined at him.


    "Flynn, you''re going too fast," she said, as she struggled to pile loose soil carefully over the planted roots. "I can''t keep up."


    "I don''t see how that''s my problem," Flynn said, as he planted another root.


    "Professor Sprout said that the nibblers are somewhat territorial," she said, as if he needed a reminder of what had been said less than a minute before. "They''ll start to tangle each other up if I don''t cover them up and put them to sleep first."


    Flynn frowned, recognizing that Sprout had said that, but unable to accept it.


    "They seem fine to me," he said, pointing down at the roots that Lily had yet to cover. "They''re already asleep."


    "Really?" Lily asked, peering down curiously. "How can you tell?"


    Flynn shrugged, unable to think of a proper explanation. "I just can."


    Lily pouted at him, and Flynn scowled back at her, even if she didn''t seem affected by it.


    "Is there a problem, young ones?" a passing by Sprout asked.


    Lily nearly jumped in place, apparently not having noticed the professor''s presence until she spoke. She recovered quickly, beaming up at Sprout.


    "Not at all, professor," she said. "Everything''s great here."


    "Hmm," Sprout said, as she leaned in to look into the pots. Lily''s smile strained, and her hands twitched awkwardly as she seemed to think about moving her hand to cover the view of the plants.


    "Oh my," Sprout said, raising her eyebrows while failing to notice the way that Lily''s smile strained even more. "I''m afraid I''ll have to award Slytherin fifteen points."


    "Oh," Lily said, the strain on her face quickly fading. "You''re afraid?" she added after a moment of thought.


    "Simple slip of the tongue, my dear," Sprout said, coughing into her hand before turning to Flynn with a smile. "While nibbler roots are easy to handle, I''ve never seen someone put them to sleep so quickly. Am I correct when I assume that you''ve never worked with magical plants before?"


    "Never," Flynn said.


    "Then you have quite the natural green thumb," Sprout said. "I look forward to seeing how you do in my class in the future, but perhaps you could switch roles with your partner for now. I would prefer if all of my students had an opportunity to participate in this lesson, and I''m afraid you might just complete it all by yourself if you continue at this pace."


    Though Lily had been beaming at Flynn throughout Sprout''s praise, her expression turned to one of despair when she realized that she would have to handle the nibbler roots. She had volunteered to be the soil piler specifically because she thought they were creepy and didn''t want to touch them, even with gloves, but though her mouth opened and closed a few times, she quickly accepted her fate as she hung her head down with a silent sigh that Sprout failed to notice.


    Though Lily wasn''t able to put the nibbler roots to sleep immediately like Flynn had, she wasn''t necessarily bad at the task and as a pair, they managed to be the first group to plant the entirety of their nibbler roots. After Sprout awarded them both ten points for their respective houses, earning Flynn a betrayed look from Blaise who was still only halfway through his own pots with Theodore, Lily spent the rest of the class chatting quietly to Flynn as the rest of the students continued to repot their nibbler roots, with a large chunk of the class being unable to finish in time.


    As the class filed out for lunch, Lily was momentarily distracted from talking with Flynn when she passed by another Hufflepuff, and Flynn managed to slip away, turning a corner and disappearing right as Lily tried to introduce him to her Hufflepuff friends.


    Though the promise of another meal like the dinner he had last night was almost enticing enough to force himself to socialize, the breakfast he''d had that morning reassured him that getting free meals wouldn''t be a one-off event in his new life, so he didn''t have to stuff himself whenever he had the chance like he had back in Fredericton. With his pockets and the bag he had hidden under his robes stuffed with food already, he decided that he might as well eat the more perishable parts of his stockpile before they went to waste as he explored the castle.


    Flynn knew the streets of Fredericton like the back of his hand. No matter where he was, he knew exactly what to do and where to run at any given time. He knew which alleyways lead to dead ends, and which abandoned buildings had their doors actually locked or not, so being in an environment where he had no intrinsic knowledge about his surroundings was an unnerving one for him.


    So he wandered, not with the intent of finding anything, but still with the intent of knowing everything.


    The winding halls of Hogwarts were confusing, and more than once he couldn''t help but think that he was getting lost, but other than the moving staircases that sometimes made it impossible to backtrack, it didn''t take him too long to get a sense of how the castle was laid out.


    As he wandered around the castle, snacking on bits of chicken from his pockets, he gradually started to see fewer and fewer students as he got to the more secluded areas of the castle, and at a certain point, the presence of portraits and ghosts started to fade as well, until he found himself wandering hallways that had large cobwebs and piles of dust in the corners, like they hadn''t been cleaned in years.


    On a whim, Flynn chose a random door and pushed it open, almost coughing when a small cloud of dust shook itself loose as he entered the room. He found himself in a classroom shaped like a small auditorium.


    It seemed to be designed to hold up to fifty students, if Flynn had to guess, and he wondered if it was unused because there was a lack of bodies to fill the seats. The room was much larger than the charms classroom that he''d been in earlier that day, and even that classroom hadn''t been filled to capacity.


    Flynn quickly decided that the reason for its abandonment didn''t matter too much to him, at least not more than the abandonment itself. Every surface in the room was covered with a thick film of dust, and every step that Flynn took shook up small clouds of debris around his feet. Wandering around the room, Flynn discovered loose floorboards and small spaces between the desks that he could potentially stash items into.


    Flynn nodded to himself approvingly as he inspected the spaces. Back in Fredericton, he had a few "stash spots" where he used to hide loose bills. While the tenacity of crackheads meant that no place was safe forever, he was used to keeping a few items scattered around the city in various stashes instead of keeping it in the orphanage or the gym.


    It was a habit that reassured him, and though he didn''t have anything that he wanted to hide away right now, he noted the location of the abandoned classroom in the back of his mind, both as a place to seek privacy, and a place to stash away anything that he might not want to keep on his person, but was still important enough that he wouldn''t just leave it in his dorm room.


    Deciding that he''d explored the castle enough for now, he headed towards his next class. He was almost late, taking fifteen minutes to navigate the winding hallways and find his way back to the classrooms, but it only reassured him that his new discovery was a secluded one.


    ---


    "Was Herbology just fluke, Fredericton?" Blaise asked. "You''re just as horrible here as you were in Charms."


    "I''m told I have a green thumb," Flynn grunted as he pushed his wand forward.


    Like Blaise had already noted, his attempts at turning his matchstick into a needle resulted in his magic simply not leaving his wand at all. If he really squinted, he might''ve been able to delude himself into thinking there was a slight sheen to the matchstick, but whether it was a delusion or not, it was impossible to claim that it looked anything like a needle.


    Blaise grunted as he made his own attempts at transfiguration, and though his matchstick did develop a distinct sheen to it, it wasn''t that much closer to becoming a needle than Flynn''s had.


    Flynn couldn''t help but feel a tinge of petty satisfaction at the sight of the other boy''s frustration, though it was cut short when McGonagall came by their table. Though she didn''t say anything, she stared down at them with a clear expectation.


    Flynn focused on his magic, and tried to will the matchstick to becoming a needle, but his attempt failed once more.


    McGonagall showed no reaction, simply turning to Blaise to silently ask for his demonstration. When Blaise failed once more, McGonagall nodded to herself.


    "Mr. Fredericton," she said. "I suggest holding your wand with a bit more delicacy, like Mr. Zabini. Mr. Zabini, your wand movements are satisfactory, so I can only imagine you are having an issue with visualising the transformation. It may help to compartmentalise the different aspects of how a matchstick might become a needle. As practice I would suggest altering the individual aspects of your target, such as colour, density, shape, before combining them all into one spell."


    Flynn frowned at the advice, not liking how similar it was to Flitwick''s but McGonagall continued to walk to the next group without offering anything else.


    Blaise frowned along with him, but didn''t say anything as he wordlessly looked down at his matchstick. He tapped the matchstick once again, but while it seemed a little shinier than his last attempt had been, it didn''t seem like McGonagall''s advice had been much help.


    Flynn frowned down at his matchstick, and shifted the grip around on his wand, but the light touch still felt uncomfortable to him. Instead of risking another fire, he kept his hand comfortably wrapped around his wand in a way that felt natural, and tried to apply the advice she had directed at Blaise.


    Imagining the matchstick turning from a light brown to a silver colour, he thrusted his wand forward.


    Flynn''s eyes widened when a pulse of magic travelled through his body in a way that it had never done before. The magic almost felt like it travelled through his veins, flowing lazily towards his wand as if it were a heart pumping blood. The magic coalesced in his wand and released simultaneously.


    Flynn frowned, looking down at the results of his first use of intentional magic. Though the matchstick remained unchanged, Flynn''s wand was now coloured in a silver sheen.


    "Looking stylish as always, Lord Slytherin," Draco chuckled from his seat behind him.


    Flynn flipped him off in response, which immediately lost them five points from Slytherin each.


    ---


    "Would it kill you to be consistent, Fredericton?" Blaise asked.


    "I don''t know what you mean," Flynn responded.


    "You''re an absolute disaster at casting spells, but with your performance in herbology, I assumed at least some of that skill would translate over to potions," Blaise hissed under his breath, as Snape passed by them. With how bad Blaise was at whispering, Flynn could only assume that Snape had heard him but simply chose to ignore him. "You''re lucky he has his sights set on Potter and Weasley."


    "You don''t have to partner with me if you''re going to bitch about it," Flynn responded.


    Snape''s eye twitched at that, confirming Flynn''s suspicions that he had decent hearing, but instead of reprimanding him for his language, Snape loomed over Neville''s table and docked five points from Gryffindor for chopping his ingredients in the wrong order.


    Blaise grumbled in response, before sighing and shaking his head.


    "You''re not nearly as bad as my other options, unless I want to defect to Gryffindor," he said, giving a pointed glance towards Theodore and Gregory, whose cauldron was fizzing dangerously to the point of overflowing. With his back still turned to them, Snape waved his wand and the mixture simmered down, and though Theodore and Gregory both let out a sigh of relief, they didn''t seem to realize who had saved them.


    Flynn grunted in an approximation of an affirmative response.


    Blaise sighed again.


    "I would''ve been fine with Malfoy, but I guess I''m stuck with what I''ve got," he said. "I''ll be in charge of the mixing, but would it kill you to slice these roots more evenly? They''re supposed to be cut into equal sixths."


    "I think they''re good enough," Flynn said.


    "Well, they''re not," Blaise said, even as he added them to the mixture. "The textbook says the potion will lose its effectiveness, but I don''t think it''ll explode at the very least. I''ll consider it a win if we leave this class with nothing missing."


    Flynn shrugged as Snape took fifteen points from Harry for breathing wrong, or something equally as benign. By the end of the class, Gryffindor exited the class forty points poorer and three detentions richer.

 1.7 New Friends, New Enemies

    When the class finished, the entirety of the class let out a silent sigh of relief, knowing that the end of the school day was over, though the dour atmosphere that emanated off of Snape seemed to prevent anyone from actually daring to discuss it. A few of the Slytherins started to discuss their plans on what they would do for the rest of the evening without classes immediately after they left the doors, earning an annoyed glare from the potions professor, but no reprimand. The Gryffindors didn''t seem too eager to start talking while they were still within earshot of him, but once the last of the students filed out and Snape waved his wand to shut the door behind them, a quiet explosion of whispered chatter erupted from the Gryffindors and any of the Slytherins that hadn''t entirely trusted in how far they could push their Head of House''s favouritism towards them.


    Blaise let out a loud yawn, and announced that he was off to the common rooms, wanting to test out how soft the sofas and armchairs were before the upper years could claim all of them. Though nobody responded to him, some of the other first years, Slytherin and Gryffindor both, seemed to agree with the idea and silently started to walk quickly towards their common rooms.


    Flynn watched them go, wondering idly about what he would do with his newfound free time, before he noticed someone staring at him. He was sure he wasn''t meant to notice it, with how Hermione was only glancing at him out of the sides of her eyes, but if she was trying to be discrete, she was doing a horrible job of it.


    "What are you looking at?" Flynn said.


    Hermione let out a quiet squeak of surprise as she flinched away from the question, turning her head away from him as if she was trying to pretend like she hadn''t been caught looking at him. She stayed where she was, unmoving and unspeaking. Flynn waited for a few seconds before walking away, not caring enough about what she had to say to wait any longer for her. He didn''t know exactly what her problem was with him, but with how timid and intimidated she seemed to be by him, he doubted he would cause any trouble for him if he let her go unchecked.


    Flynn walked through the halls of Hogwarts, frowning as the echoes of conversations travelled along the stone corridors towards him. Though the Potions class had been in a relatively isolated section of the castle compared to the rest of his classes, it still wasn''t too far away from the central section of the castle that most of Hogwarts seem to operate in. With the first day of classes ending, it was inevitable that the castle grounds and corridors would be swarmed by students, and while Flynn wasn''t skittish enough be afraid of a crowd, he still wanted to avoid being in a situation where he was surrounded by unknowns if he could help it.


    Flynn walked along the hallways of Hogwarts, not knowing exactly where he was going, but knowing that he didn''t want to be where he was now. He walked along the corridors, thinking about whether he could retreat to the secluded classroom that he''d found earlier that day.


    "Flynn!"


    Flynn frowned at the sound of the familiar voice calling his name, and when he spotted Lily. With how short she was, she probably would''ve been barely visible in the slowly growing crowd of older students that filled the corridors if it weren''t for how furiously she was waving both arms at him.


    Flynn''s frown deepened as he considered whether he should ignore her or not, but once he realized that she might take it as a challenge to annoy him further if he tried to avoid her, he sighed and walked over towards her. Even from so far away, it was easily to tell that she had been surprised by his choice, but any surprise that her expression showed quickly melted away into a wide smile. As Flynn got closer to her, he frowned when he noticed the two other students that flanked her, clearly confused by his presence.


    Flynn decided to ignore them for now, and once he walked close enough to Lily that she had to completely crane her head upwards to look him in the eyes, he frowned down at her.


    "What do you want?" he asked.


    Completely unperturbed, Lily beamed up at him.


    "Hi Flynn," she said. "It was very rude of you to disappear so suddenly after Herbology."


    He waited for her to continue, but when it became obvious that she was done, he grunted.


    "Is that all you had to say?"


    Lily laughed, as if he''d just made a joke.


    "After Herbology, I introduced you to my friends but when I turned around, you weren''t even there," she said, shaking her head. "I must''ve looked like a crazy person with an imaginary friend or something."


    "We didn''t think that," the Hufflepuff boy beside her said with a frown. "You were partnered with him during class, and it''s very hard not to notice him."


    Turning to Flynn, the boy extended his hand, though he did it with a healthy amount of hesitation.


    "Wayne Hopkins," he said. "Nice to meet you."


    Flynn stared down at the boy with a frown, though he supposed there was no reason to be hostile.


    "Flintstone Fredericton," he replied.


    "He thinks it''s nice to meet you too, Wayne," Lily added, after a short pause.


    "Umm, sure," he said, a little hesitantly, his eyes darting behind him. "You know what, I''m actually feeling quite tired. I think I''ll go back to the dorms to take a quick nap, if that''s okay with you all."


    Lily sighed and shook her head.


    "You''ll get nowhere in life if you spend it all in bed, Mr. Hopkins," she said. "But I suppose children do need their rest. Run along, then."


    "We''re the same age," Wayne protested, though he was already turned halfway away.


    "But only one of us has a 3 p.m. bedtime," Lily responded.


    Wayne looked like he wanted to argue against the point, but with a glance up at Flynn, he seemed to decide that it wasn''t worth the trouble.


    "It''s called beauty sleep when you''re as good looking as I am," Wayne said, as he turned away, waving backwards at the remaining trio. "I''ll see you at dinner."


    Flynn watched Wayne go until he disappeared around a corner. Lily let out a huff once he was out of earshot.


    "I worry about that boy," she said. "He could really learn to be a little more social like you, Flynn."


    Flynn stared down at Lily, who turned up to him with an innocent smile on her face.


    "I can''t tell if you''re stupid or crazy," Flynn said bluntly.


    "That''s a very rude thing to say," Lily said, though her expression showed no hint that she had actually taken offense to it.


    Flynn stared down at Lily, but after almost a minute of silence, he let out a huff and turned his head away from her.


    "Tell me your name," he said.


    It took a few seconds for the Hufflepuff girl, standing a few feet away, to realize that he was talking to her. She flinched under his gaze, and after a quick glance to either side of her, as if she was trying to find someone else that Flynn could possibly be talking to. When she didn''t find anything, she pointed shakily to herself, in a silent question.


    Flynn scowled at her, making her flinch even further into herself.


    "Yes, you," he said. "I''m Flintstone Fredericton. Who the hell are you?"


    "Sally," the girl said quickly, and quietly enough that Flynn could barely hear her. "Smith."


    "Hey," Lily said, slapping Flynn''s arm. "Stop bullying Sally. You shouldn''t be treating girls so harshly."


    Flynn scowled back down at Lily, but otherwise ignored her comment.


    "There," he said. "I''ve introduced myself to your friends. Can I go now?"


    Lily looked up at him with genuine confusion in her eyes.


    "What are you talking about?" she asked.


    "You said you wanted to introduce me to your friends," Flynn replied. "And I did. Can I go now?"


    A look of understanding slowly dawned on Lily''s face as she let out a laugh.


    "That''s not the reason why I called you over, Flynn," she said.


    "Then why the fuck did you call me over then? Wasting my fucking time," Flynn growled, ignoring the raised eyebrows from a passing group of older Slytherins. Flynn glared at them, as if daring them to speak up, but for some reason, after analyzing the scene for a moment, their eyes darting between Flynn and the two Hufflepuff girls he was looming over, they grinned at him and continued to walk along.


    "Do I need a reason?" Lily asked, as Flynn continued to track the older Slytherins as they made their way down the corridors, turning a corner and disappearing from sight. "I just wanted to say hi to a friend."


    "I don''t do friends," Flynn said.


    "Well I do," Lily said, as if that explained anything. "Now come along, Flynn. Let''s do friend things. My great-grandpa used to be the caretaker here, and even though I''ve never met him, my grandpa always told me about the strange things he discovered while taking care of the school. Did you know there are secret passageways that can take you anywhere in the castle? I''ve always wanted to find them once I got to Hogwarts, and now we''re here! You up for an adventure?"


    Flynn scowled, though it was more out of a basic reflex more than a reaction to what she had just said. Though the thought of having to listen to the blonde girl for any longer than he had to gave him a preemptive headache just by thinking about it, he had to admit the idea was an appealing one. It wasn''t too dissimilar from what he had done during lunch, and though he might''ve preferred to explore without company, the promise of insider knowledge was enticing enough that he had to stop to consider sacrificing his eardrums for a better understanding of the castle that would be his territory for the near future.


    After about a minute of intense internal debate, he let out a hiss of annoyance at himself in response to the conclusion he had reached.


    "Fine," he said.


    Lily let out a whoop of excitement, and though Sally had started to inch slowly away from them after her introduction, Lily rushed towards her and grabbed her hand, making Sally yelp as she was unexpectedly pulled almost off of her feet.


    "Come on, gang!" Lily shouted as she dragged Sally down the hall. "Adventure awaits!"


    Flynn heavily considered the possibility of just turning around and leaving, but let out a low groan and followed the vibrating blonde blur and her unfortunate friend. Hopefully those secret passageways would be worth the trouble.


    Despite the fact that Lily talked enough to fill the silence on her own, it still took about an hour for her to mention that even though her great-grandfather had been the Hogwarts caretaker at some point, and that her grandfather had told her stories about the strange and wonderful things that he''d discovered during his time there, none of those stories had included any details on how to find anything, and that she had no idea where she was going.


    With Sally having lost track of how to navigate the twisted halls of Hogwarts, and Lily not even having bothered to try and remember the way back to the main parts of Hogwarts, Flynn considered the idea of just going back on his own and letting the two annoyances just starve to death, but he didn''t feel like expending the effort to lose them, so he didn''t bother to try.


    Even with how confusing the Hogwarts layout was, with parts of the castle having a geometrically impossible layout that was likely only possible with magic, Flynn felt like he had a good sense of how to retrace the path they had taken to get to the secluded section of the castle that they found themselves in, but rather than expending the mental energy to try and navigate the halls, he walked to the ground floor and found a window that led outside. Pushing the window open, he climbed out to the school grounds.


    "Hey, Flynn," Lily shouted, from inside the building. "Help a pair of beautiful ladies out, here. Not all of us are as big as you are."


    Flynn glanced back at the open window he''d just climbed out of, to see Lily looking like she was straining to stand on her tiptoes just to be able to peer out of it. He sighed and walked back, knowing that she would just be more annoying if he ignored her. The window was still short enough that she would probably be able to climb it without his help, even if it would require more effort on her part, so unfortunately there was no chance that she would starve and die in the castle if he just left.


    Wordlessly, he climbed back through the window, and glared down at Lily, before bending down, grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder.


    Lily let out a squawk of shock and protest, but stopped squirming when Flynn stood up fully, likely too afraid to fall if she squirmed too much. Thankfully, Lily was light enough that he didn''t have too much trouble with climbing back out through the window, and once he landed on the grass, he dropped Lily on her feet. Though he hadn''t intentionally put her down with the intention of making her fall, she stumbled backwards from the momentum and fell on the floor, though he doubted from her pouty reaction and the softness of the grass that it actually hurt her.


    "Very, very rude of you, Mr. Fredericton," she said.


    Flynn ignored her as he climbed back through the window, hopping back into the castle with a loud thud as his feet hit the floor. He walked over to Sally, but stopped when she made a low whine of fear and recoiled away from him.


    "You want me to help you or not?" he asked gruffly. "You can climb out on your own if you want. I don''t care."


    Sally froze on the spot, reminding him of a rat he had trapped once when he''d been near starving when he had been around five years old. While he never actually ate it, deciding that the parasites it had would probably give him more pain that death, he couldn''t help but think that Sally fully expected him to kill and eat her.


    Flynn reached out to grab her. She flinched at his touch, but didn''t move as she seemed to accept her fate, whatever it may be.


    He let out a loud sigh and scooped her up in his arms, a little gentler than he had with Lily, and climbed slowly back out of the window, making sure not to bump her on the window frame and leave any bruises that he might get in trouble for later.


    With how much her knees were shaking, he doubted she would be able to stand, so he laid her gently on the floor in a sitting position.


    "Hey, why are you being so much nicer to Sally than you were to me?" Lily asked, with a pout. "That''s hardly fair."


    "Fuck off," Flynn said, before turning back to Sally. "Can you walk on your own?" he asked.


    Sally blinked a few times, and flinched when she noticed his gaze on her. Though she didn''t say anything in response, she nodded frantically and pushed herself forward, getting on her knees before standing up on shaky legs.


    "Good," Flynn said. "Don''t fucking expect me to carry you again. I ain''t your slave."


    Lily laughed at that.


    "Oh you''re such a sweetheart, Flynn," she said. "Isn''t that right, Sally?"


    "Are you stupid?" Flynn asked.


    "That was incredibly rude of you to ask," Lily responded.


    They walked for about ten minutes, sticking close to the walls so they would eventually get to the main gates in theory, before Lily started to drift away from the castle walls, dragging Sally along with her. Flynn didn''t have to strain hard to see what had caught her attention, with the large hut being the only thing that stood out in the otherwise empty clearing. It took Flynn about thirty seconds to realize that he was walking in the same direction that they were, but though he didn''t understand why at first, he quickly decided that he was also curious about what might be in the hut because there was no possible reason that he would want to spend another second with the two Hufflepuff girls otherwise.


    Though he heavily disagreed on Lily''s theories that there would be a dragon living inside of the hut, he didn''t bother to argue against it. Though it seemed that Lily hadn''t noticed the giant crossbow leaning against the side of the hut, nor the pair of muddy boots that were laid out neatly at the door, she still seemed confident that there was someone in the hut, and didn''t hesitate in knocking on the door.


    She and Sally both flinched back in surprise, when a dog started to bark almost immediately from inside the hut, but quickly recovered when she seemed to realize that there was something that could be pet on the other side of the door. Though Flynn glanced at the crossbow, he abandoned the idea of using it almost immediately, and looked at the hut instead, quickly deciding that it wouldn''t take too long to climb the building in case the dog attacked, though it might be difficult if he had to help Lily and Sally up with him. When the door creaked open slowly, Flynn gripped his wand in his pocket and glared at the small gap.


    "Back, Fang, back," a low booming voice said, from much higher than where Flynn had been staring initially.


    For the first time in a while, Flynn found himself craning his head completely upwards to stare at the single eye that peeked out from behind the door. Though he recognized the giant man as being the one who had led the first years through the lake when they first arrived at Hogwarts, the suddenness of his appearance and the realization that he was even bigger than Flynn had originally thought, left him momentarily stunned.


    "Hello," Lily said, seemingly completely unperturbed by the sight of the man.


    "Hullo," the man said, with a hint of confusion in his voice as he opened the door wide enough that they could see more of his face, and the large dog that he was holding back by the collar. The dog let out a whine that didn''t seem like it should''ve come from an animal that was as big as it was, and its tail wagged happily behind it, making heavy thudding sounds at it smacked into the man''s clothes.


    "Back, Fang," the man said, grunting as he pulled the dog back slowly, taking care not to yank it back too harshly.


    "Aww, what a cute puppy," Lily commented. "Is he friendly?"


    "He is," the man grumbled, still sounding like he was entirely confused by the situation. "But don''t ye go calling him cute, ye hear? His head''s too big already for how empty it is."


    Apparently taking that as permission to touch him, Lily raised her hand for Fang to sniff. It seemed a little confused by the offer, and after a moment of consideration, licked Lily''s offered hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Flynn could see Lily''s smile going slightly strained, as she waited for Fang to finish before raising her hand to pat him on the head while wiping her hand on his fur. He didn''t seem to mind.


    "So," the man said. "First years, aren''t ye? What''ve you lot come around here fer?"


    "You''ve got a lovely home, sir," Lily said.


    "Thank you," the man said, frowning when he seemed to realize that she hadn''t answered his question. "Would you like to come in?"


    "Do we?" Lily said, excitedly, before walking forward.


    Both the man and Fang moved aside to let her through, though neither of them seemed to understand why. The man glanced at Flynn, as if expecting an answer, but when Flynn didn''t drop his glare, the man''s eyebrows furrowed in further confusion.


    "Ye comin'' in as well?" the man asked.


    The thought of going inside a small hut with only one visible exit was a stifling one, but the sound of a giggle coming from inside the hut reminded him that Lily had already gone inside without a single worry. Though he knew that her easy confidence came more from a lack of caution and abundance of stupidity, rather than any sort of bravery, he still felt annoyed by the idea that she was more fearless than he was. Not bothering to answer the question, he walked past the giant and went inside.


    The inside of the hut looked cozy, but it was still just as barebones as the exterior would''ve implied. Unless he counted the few cuts of meat that were hanging and drying from the ceiling, and the kettle that hung over the open fire, the only piece of furniture in the room was a large bed with a patchwork quilt laid over it and a few boxes strewn around the room.


    Closing the door behind him, the man stared at the trio of first years before grabbing one of the boxes and arranging them around the fire, before motioning towards them.


    "Ye can have a seat if ye like," he mumbled.


    "I was feeling a bit tired," Lily said. "Thank you, Mr. Hagrid."


    "It''s no problem of mine," Hagrid said, still sounding like he had no idea what to make of Lily. He seemed to scan each of their faces for any hint of an explanation as to why they had knocked on his door, but Flynn doubted that he would find anything, since he doubted that Lily had knocked on the door for any particular reason.


    "So," he said eventually, watching as Lily scratched Fang behind the ears. "What did ye say ye needed me fer, again?"


    "We saw your hut and thought it might lead to a secret passageway," Lily said, on behalf of the entire group.


    "Well, I''m sorry to disappoint ye," Hagrid said, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly.


    "No, it''s okay," Lily said. "I think you and Fang are much more interesting than some boring old secret passage anyways. Isn''t that right, Fang?"


    Fang started to pant happily as Lily scratched behind his ears with more intensity. Beside her, Sally seemed to finally unfreeze slightly, as she reached over to carefully place her hand on Fang''s back, though she didn''t dare to move any further than that.


    "I see," Hagrid said, though he was clearly lying. "Would ye like some rock cakes? I''ve got a few batches recently made."


    "Oh that would be lovely," Lily said.


    Hagrid grunted, as he reached over to rummage through one of the boxes near the fire. Taking out a small baking tray lined with nearly burnt pastries.


    "Been out of practise with making these, so they might not be so good," he said. "Feel free to toss em if you don''t like em."


    "I''m sure they''re fine, Mr. Hagrid," Lily said.


    "No need for the Mr," Hagrid replied. "Just Hagrid''s good enough for little ole me."


    Lily didn''t respond to that as she took a rock cake from the offered tray. Beside her, Sally nervously took one as well, and when it was offered to him, Flynn grabbed one for himself.


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    Though he waited for Lily to bite into it first, watching her grimace slightly when her teeth failed to sink in to the pastry. She tried a couple more times to bite into it, but after a few more failures, she simply put it down and smiled up at Hagrid.


    "My name''s Lily," she said. "This is Sally, and that''s Flynn."


    "It''s very nice te meet all of ye," Hagrid said, with a nod. "Yer first years aren''t ye? I recognize ye from the boats yesterday. How''s Hogwarts been treatin ye so far?"


    "Oh it''s been everything I''ve ever imagined it to be," Lily said, with a serious nod. "Thank you for making sure we all made it across the lake safely."


    "It''s my job," Hagrid said. "Though I am glad none of ye fell in the lake this year."


    "Does that happen a lot?"


    "Maybe once every two or three years," Hagrid said with a shrug.


    As Lily asked moIre and more benign question, Hagrid never seemed to lose his confusion completely, but still seemed content with giving Lily an earnest reply to all of her questions. As the conversation went on, even Sally seemed to relax to the point where it didn''t look like she was about to cry, and even asked a few questions of her own, though hers were mostly about Fang.


    Flynn didn''t participate in the conversation, though he did try his rock cake at some point. It was tough, but not tough enough that it was impossible to bite through, and though it was somewhat tasteless, there was a subtlety to it that he couldn''t help but enjoy. It reminded him a bit of the protein shakes that Tom made.


    When he thought that nobody was looking, he took three more and shoved them in his pockets. Though Hagrid seemed confused when he noticed that more were missing, Flynn thought he saw him smiling slightly, though it was difficult to tell with how thick Hagrid''s beard was.


    Eventually, Hagrid looked pointedly out of the window, and once he realized how late it was getting, politely noted how close it was to dinner time. Taking the polite dismissal for what it was, the three made their way back to the castle, walking around once more until they made it back to the main gates.


    Once he confirmed that Lily and Sally wouldn''t get lost on their way to the Great Hall, Flynn slipped away as quickly as he could, already exhausted by the thought of having to be in other people''s presence for any longer than he''d already been that day. With a pocket still full of food that he needed to eat before it went bad, he walked in the opposite direction of the Great Hall, heading in no particular direction.


    Though he hadn''t finished exploring the section of the castle that he had gone to earlier that day, he chose to go explore an entirely different section of the castle, wanting to diversify his knowledge.


    Avoiding the third floor for now, though he intended to explore it later in the future, Flynn walked up the first available staircase and ended up on the fifth floor. Though the floor was mostly empty, given that most of the students and staff were probably eating dinner around this time, it wasn''t completely devoid of life either. Though he wasn''t sure if there were other students on the floor, or if he was just hearing the sounds of portraits and ghosts having conversations with one another, he avoided the sounds of quiet conversations as best as he could as he explored the halls of Hogwarts.


    Unfortunately, it was when he was in the middle of a long hallway that a small group of students, consisting of four Slytherin students, three boys and one girl, turned the corner and headed in his direction.


    Though they didn''t seem to notice him at first, Flynn didn''t want to turn around and risk them thinking that he was running away from them, so with his head held high, he made his way down the hallway with his hand in his robes, clutching his wand. It took a surprising amount of time for any of the students in the group to notice him, but when the first one did, he nudged his peers and pointed Flynn out. Flynn kept himself from reacting, and walked down the hallway with his eyes fixed forward, intent on acting like he hadn''t even noticed the group.


    Unfortunately, it didn''t seem like the group had the same intentions for him.


    "Hey, firstie," one of the boys shouted out as they got near. "Aren''t you going to say hello to your seniors? You blind or something?"


    Flynn''s frown deepened, as he considered just walking past them and ignoring them, but the student that had called at him took a large and deliberate step to the side. Though the hallway was more than wide enough that Flynn could probably walk around him anyways, the intent behind the motion was obvious.


    Flynn stopped and glared at the student. Aside from the lone girl in the group they were all taller than him, though not by much more than a few inches, and Flynn could see the one who had stepped in his path puffing up to try and make the height difference larger.


    "Hey, I''m talking to you, firstie," he said.


    "The fuck do you want, asshole?" Flynn said, causing the one in his path to blink in surprise, as his friends chuckled.


    Asshole scowled, both at Flynn and at at his friends, before shaking his head.


    "Such a callous brat," he said. "Don''t you know how to show some respect to your betters, or is that not something that they teach in mudblood society?"


    There was that word again. Though Flynn didn''t particularly care about a slur that he didn''t even know the meaning of, the obvious disrespect and disgust behind the word made Flynn scowl back.


    "You think you''re fucking better than me?" Flynn spat out. "You blind or something, or do you have your head so far up your ass that you can''t see anything but shit?"


    One of the boys in the group let out a loud bark of a laugh, and Asshole flinched at the sound, as if he were physically stung by it. The other boy let out a loud laugh, reminding Flynn of how Vincent and Gregory would only laugh when blonde bitch gave his approval, and with how he and the girl were laughing with the boy, as if he had said a hilarious joke, Flynn couldn''t help but assume that the dipshit was their leader.


    "He got you good, Carrow," Dipshit said.


    Asshole scowled, but directed his anger towards Flynn rather than towards Dipshit himself.


    "I can see that I was foolish to think that a stupid mudblood would understand words," he said. "But maybe you''ll understand these ones. Pe-"


    Though he had no idea what he was about to say, Flynn didn''t care enough to hear it. As soon as Asshole had reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, Flynn was already rushing forward in a low stance. Asshole didn''t even seem to register the fact that Flynn had closed the distance before he could chant his spell, until he had a fist in his nose.


    Asshole let out a loud cry of pain and grabbed his nose, dropping his wand to the floor in the process, but he was still standing. Flynn darted around him to put him between him and the other three assholes, who were all starting to shout and pull out their wands. Asshole blindly lashed out with a limp fist that Flynn easily ducked under to deliver a left hook to his stomach, grabbing Asshole''s hair and keeping him upright when he doubled over in pain.


    With his free hand, Flynn reached into his pocket and tossed a handful of chicken at the trio as they pointed their wands at him. Though the girl shrieked out in surprise, and diverted her wand upwards, sending a blast of pale blue energy into the ceiling, but though the other two flinched as the chicken hit their robes, they kept their wands trained forwards.


    Flynn lifted Asshole''s head higher as he wheezed out in pain, and ducked down to deter his friends from casting their spells until Flynn got close enough to push the older boy into them, but his eyes widened when he heard two nearly simultaneous chants of "Stupefy!"


    There was a flash of red light, and with a violent jerk, Asshole''s hair was torn from his fingers as his body flew backwards, nearly crashing into Flynn if he hadn''t dodged out of the way out of instinct.


    Unfortunately, the same instinct wasn''t enough to dodge the second bolt of red light, only barely giving Flynn enough time to grit his teeth before his world turned black.


    ¡ª


    "How are you the best out of all of us at charms, again?"


    Before this moment, Flynn might have thought that hearing the whining of a pompous dipshit was a relatively peaceful way to be woken up, given his history of bad mornings, but the grating quality of the voice made Flynn consider placing it in the top ten list of his worst mornings, especially given the intense headache he was sporting along with it. Not quite understanding what was going on, or why he felt so woozy, Flynn kept his eyes closed and his face slack, as if he were still asleep.


    "It''s first day of classes, okay?" a new voice said. "My parents are a lot stricter than yours about the no magic rules, so I haven''t had the chance to practice."


    "I suppose that makes sense," Dipshit said. "Father always said that the rule is a foolish one, and that students should be allowed to practise their magic outside of Hogwarts, as long as they''re in a fully magical environment, but I suppose we aren''t all lucky enough to have understanding parents."


    "Can''t he do something about it then?" Asshole #2 asked. "The start of the year is always enough trouble as is, without having to play catch-up. I don''t see why the rest of the wizarding world has to accommodate for the mudbloods, just because they can''t be trusted to show off their magic to their kin."


    "He''s working on it," Dipshit said, with a sigh. "But it''s difficult with the amount of progressives that managed to worm their way into the Ministry. Are you going to try again?"


    "Yeah, yeah," Asshole #2 said. "Renervate."


    Flynn felt a wave of energy pass through him, and he couldn''t help but flinch at how invasive it felt. Though the feeling passed quickly, he felt something nudge his head, making his sway.


    "Did you see that?" Asshole #2 asked. "I think his eyes twitched for a second."


    "I didn''t notice anything," Dipshit said. "Though I guess he could just be pretending to be asleep. How do you think we should check?"


    "I volunteer," Asshole #1 said, from somewhere further away. Flynn heard heavy footsteps heading in his direction, before he felt a fist hitting his stomach. Though it didn''t hurt at all compared to a punch from Tom or Jones, the suddenness of the hit combined with the fact that he couldn''t see it coming was enough to make his eyes shoot open, though the grunt of pain that he expected to escape him didn''t come out properly, only leaving him in a burst of air exhaled out of his nose.


    "Oh looky there," Asshole #1 said, with a snarl on his face that was somewhat ruined by the large bandage that was pasted onto his nose. "The little mudblood''s awake."


    Flynn glared at him, not understanding why Asshole #1 was upside down for a long moment until he realized that he was the one that was hanging upside down, with his ankles being lifted by some invisible force. Flynn tried to spit at him, but found that he couldn''t move his mouth, or any other part of his body for that matter.


    "Of course. He was still pretending to be asleep," Asshole #2 said, slapping his forehead. "We should''ve checked after every attempt. I bet he was awake from the very beginning."


    "Sure, sure," Dipshit said, as he turned to Asshole #1. "So, Carrow. I''d say you''ve got first dibs on this one, given how badly he got you. What do you suggest we do with him?"


    "He didn''t get me," Asshole #1 growled. "He punched me for no reason without any sort of warning."


    "Honestly, I''d say that''s your fault for expecting a mudblood to be act according to proper civilization," Dipshit said, with a laugh. "That one''s on you."


    The look on Asshole #1''s face seemed to imply that he disagreed, but he didn''t argue back, scowling at the comment but redirecting the expression towards Flynn instead.


    "You know what?" he said, grabbing his knuckles and attempting to crack them, though they didn''t make any sound. "I was thinking that I could teach the little brat some manners, but now I realize that a mudblood will never know how to do anything besides being a dumb violent animal. Why don''t I make him feel at home?"


    "Out of the kindness of your heart, I''m sure," Dipshit said, with a laugh.


    "Yeah, sure," Asshole #1 said. "Let''s go with that."


    Though his initial hit had surprised him, Flynn didn''t have much trouble with taking Asshole #1''s punches. With how poor his form was, punching with only his arms and not his entire body, he didn''t even think he would even get any bruises from the "punishment" he was taking, especially with how quickly the boy was tiring out.


    "Can''t you guys unfreeze his mouth at least," Asshole #1 asked, poorly disguising the fact that he needed a break with the question. "It''s not as satisfying if I don''t hear him cry."


    "The Full Body-bind curse is called that for a reason, Carrow," the bitch said, hanging off from Dipshit''s arm and rolling her eyes. "If you want me to release it so you can get punched in the face again, that''s on you."


    "Nobody asked you, Rowle," Asshole #1 growled, though he seemed to immediately regret his words when he saw the dark look that came over Dipshit''s expression. He scowled at Flynn one last time before pulling his foot backwards and kicking him in the face.


    There was explosion of pain that blossomed from his face, and the feeling of something trickling down his forehead, but he kept his face as neutral as he could, not wanting to give Asshole #1 the satisfaction of knowing that he had hurt him even a little. Unfortunately, Asshole #1 seemed to be satisfied regardless.


    "Oh look at that," he said. "His blood''s not nearly as brown as I expected. Maybe he is the Heir of Slytherin, after all."


    "Copying Malfoy''s joke won''t earn you any favours with him, you know," Bitch said.


    "Shut up, Rowle," Asshole #1 said, though he flinched again. "Sorry. I didn''t mean that. Must''ve lost too much blood."


    "Oh quit your whining," Asshole #2 said. "Now should we go to Pomfrey''s or do you want me to give a crack at your nose? I''ve always wanted to get better healing charms."


    "No chance, Yaxley," Asshole #1 said. "I''m not trusting you not to banish my nose entirely and give me slit nostrils or something."


    "Don''t want you looking uglier than you already are?" Asshole #2 asked.


    "Yeah," Asshole #1 said. "... Wait."


    As Dipshit and Bitch started to laugh, the entire group began to walk away from Flynn, leaving him suspended in the hallway from his ankles as Asshole #1 started to bicker with Asshole #2. Their voices faded not before long, and Flynn had to wonder how long he would be stuck there for, but thankfully, it didn''t take more than a few minutes for him to hear a voice.


    "Oh dear," it said, from somewhere that he couldn''t see. "Young man, are you alright?"


    Flynn wanted to say, "no shit," but nothing came out.


    "Excuse me?" the voice said. "Can you hear me?"


    Flynn moved his eyes around to try and glare at the source of the voice, but it was only when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, that he saw a painting of a middle-aged woman peering out the side of a picture frame.


    "Oh, I see," she said. "You can''t talk. How on earth did you find yourself in such a predicament, young man?"


    Flynn glared at her.


    "Oh right, you can''t talk," she said. "Would you like me to go get some help? Oh, right. Silly question. I''ll be right back, young man. Don''t move."


    It took less than five minutes for Flynn to hear a set of hurried footsteps coming down the hall, not quite running, but close to it.


    "What the-" a male voice said, before growling something under his breath. Flynn felt a hand cupping the back of his head, before he heard a voice chanting, "Finite Incantatem."


    Flynn clenched his teeth as he felt him regaining control of his body, though he was still upside down. Though the hand on the back of his head was firmly securing him from falling head first into the ground, the rest of his body was unsupported and fell immediately, but right before his legs hit the stone floor, he felt his body grow lighter and stop just a few inches away from impact.


    "Sorry for the rough treatment," a brown-haired boy grunted as he waved his wand, and Flynn gently sunk down to the ground until he was laid down on the floor in a sitting position. "You were lucky I was using the prefect''s bathrooms. Not much else on the fifth floor besides that. Are you alright?"


    "Yeah," Flynn grunted as he pushed himself up and away from the older boy. "Fucking peachy."


    "Lan-" the boy started to say, before shutting his mouth with a frown. "So what happened here?"


    "Nothing," Flynn said, immediately.


    The boy''s frown deepened.


    "Really," he said. "Because it sure looks to me that someone hexed you, broke your nose, and abandoned you in an empty section of the castle where you might not have been found for hours on end, if Ms. Pemberton hadn''t stumbled across you on her evening walk. All grounds for suspension, or perhaps even potential expulsion. Who did this to you?"


    "Nobody," Flynn said, glaring at the boy as if he were challenging him to deny it. "Nothing happened."


    "Why are you being so stubborn about this?" the boy asked. "Are you trying to protect your friends? I can promise that if they did this to you, they''re not friends worth keeping."


    "Nothing. Happened," Flynn said, adding a finality to his words.


    Even if he trusted in the system to punish the Dipshit squad, there was no way in hell that he was letting them get off with a punishment that he didn''t personally deliver. At worst, he knew that they would be getting off with a punishment that didn''t involve a physical lesson, and that wasn''t acceptable to him.


    Regardless of what the older boy seemed to think, he pursed his lips in a thin line and sighed.


    "Why did I have to be the closest prefect on duty?" he asked himself, before looking back to Flynn. "Do you at least want me to escort you to the infirmary, just in case ''nobody'' tries to give you even more injuries?"


    "What injuries?" Flynn asked, as he reached up to close one nostril and shoot out a glob of blood that had been clogging it up.


    The boy grimaced at the sight, and though he raised his wand in consideration, he shook his head.


    "Filch will clean it up. Along with all this chicken. What in the world even happened here?," he grumbled, before back to Flynn once more. "Well then. I''m sure you''ve got this all handled by yourself, but just in case nothing happens again, I suggest talking to a Professor or a prefect about it. If you ever need my help, ask around for Ryan Clearwater, alright? Ravenclaw prefect."


    "I don''t need help," Flynn said.


    "Whatever you say," Ryan said, with a roll of the eyes. "Just try to stay out of trouble, you hear?"


    Flynn nodded, hiding the scowl he felt itching at his lips.


    "I hear you," he said.


    Flynn walked away with a scowl deep on his face, and rummaged around his pockets for any traces of food that he still had within his robes once he''d lost sight of Ryan. Thankfully, it didn''t seem that they had rummaged through his pockets while he had been unconscious, and he still had a few bits of chicken left in his bag along with the two rock cakes that he had taken from Hagrid''s hut. With the chicken alone not being enough for a full meal, he ate one of the rock cakes to fill himself up, not wanting to go to the Great Hall for dinner and be seen with a bloodied nose. He stayed idle in the secluded sections of the castle and went to the bathroom to confirm that it at least looked like he''d healed up completely, and went down to the dungeons.


    With the curfew hours approaching quickly, there were more than a few Slytherin students that milled into the dorm rooms, and though a some of them gave him dirty looks, an equal number of them simply didn''t seem to care about him enough to spare him more than a glance.


    "Pure," he said to the snakes around the dorm room door. They uncoiled for him, and invited him in.


    He spotted the dipshit group sitting at a small table near the center of the common room, with the darker corners already being occupied by the older students, as they laughed at something that Dipshit said. Flynn frowned in dissatisfaction when he saw that Asshole #1''s face no longer needed a bandage, but reminded himself that he shouldn''t care about a little nosebleed in the first place. Though he didn''t have any plans for them at the moment, he knew that whatever he came up with would leave a deeper mark than what could be healed physically.


    If Dipshit and his crew wanted to prove who was the better of them, he would gladly play along.


    Asshole #1 yawned and glanced idly around the room, as Dipshit and Asshole #2 started to talk about something that he apparently didn''t have much interest in, but froze when his eyes passed over Flynn.


    With their eyes momentarily locked, Asshole #1''s expression showed a bit of shock, but none of the fear that Flynn wanted to see from him. But it would come in due time.


    Flynn smiled at him, giving him a grin that he knew was slightly too wide with teeth slightly too sharp, and felt a petty wave of satisfaction wash through him when Asshole twitched backwards. He could see Asshole debating internally on whether he wanted to point Flynn out to the rest of the Dipshit gang. Flynn would''ve been fine with whatever decision that Asshole made, but he couldn''t stop his grin from widening even more at the sight of Asshole floundering.


    Asshole grimaced, and glared at Flynn, and though he didn''t let the rest of the dipshit squad about what he saw, he kept his eyes on Flynn until Flynn eventually got bored of mocking Asshole with his smile, and went to his dorm room.


    Blaise was the only one in the dorm room, though Flynn could hear the shower running in the attached bathroom. From his spot on the bed, Blaise lazily raised his head to glance at Flynn.


    "I didn''t see you all evening," he said.


    "Didn''t see you either," Flynn replied.


    "Fair enough," Blaise said with a shrug.

 1.8 Another Day of Classes

    Flynn had never been one to sleep in. He had never considered himself a particularly early riser either, but when he compared himself to the rest of his dormmates, and to Hogwarts as a whole, he supposed he might''ve been considered to be one there.


    At seven in the morning, though he could see a few students roaming the halls, wiping sleep from their eyes for the most part, there was a laziness that hung heavy in the air in a way that was almost palpable.


    Flynn let out a rare yawn as he made his way to the Great Hall, finding no need to rush with how empty he expected the breakfast tables to be, and when he entered, he was quickly proven right.


    With a quick count, he spotted nine students scattered around the four tables in the hall. Most of them were sitting on their own, either reading from a book or newspaper as they ate or simply trying not to fall asleep and plant their faces into their food. Though there was one small group of three students at the Hufflepuff table, they whispered to each other so their voices wouldn''t be heard in the relative silence of the hall.


    Flynn walked to the Slytherin table, and sat down before immediately finding himself surrounded by a small handful of floating plates. They approached him cautiously, like a pack of stray dogs inspecting a discarded meal, and Flynn glared at them.


    He raised his eyes at the way that the plates flinched back, as if hurt by his glare, and after a moment he sighed at his own foolishness. Though the way that the plates were surrounding him did make him uncomfortable, their goal was to feed him rather than eat him.


    Flynn reached out to a plate of scrambled eggs, and though it seemed to hesitate in the air, unsure of whether to allow itself to be grabbed or not, Flynn didn''t give it an option as he snapped out to grab the edge. Flynn dragged it closer to him and piled the entirety of its contents onto his own plate. He placed it down on the table beside him, and once he started to eat the eggs, it shyly floated away.


    Though they possessed no eyes or facial features of any sort, the way that they hovered over him made it seem like they were watching him intently as he scarfed down the plate of scrambled eggs, but any opportunity that Flynn might have had to feel uncomfortable was cut short with how quickly he managed to clear his plate.


    He glanced around for another plate of food that looked appetising, but with so many choices in front of him, he just ended up grabbing the plate directly in front of him.


    After finishing the plate, and grabbing the next one in front of him to repeat the process, the plates seemed to wisen up about their positioning and fought to crowd around the front of Flynn, no longer surrounding him.


    Flynn grabbed a few more plates blindly until he grabbed a plate filled with the same sickeningly sweet pumpkin pastries that he''d had on the train. Instead of piling onto his plate, he gently pushed it away.


    As Flynn grabbed a plate of sausages, the pumpkin pastry plate floated back in front of him, nudging at his hand.


    He pushed it away, a little firmer this time.


    "Not a fan of sweets," he said.


    The plate paused in the air, as if processing what he had just said, before promptly disappearing. A moment later, there was a quiet popping sound, and a new plate of french toast appeared before him, nudging his hand in the same way that the previous plate had.


    He stared down at it for a few seconds, before grabbing it and shovelling the french toast into his mouth directly. When he let go of the plate, he wasn''t sure if he imagined the way that it looked satisfied, somehow.


    It didn''t take for Flynn to feel full, but with his spare food storage almost completely empty now, with only a single rock cake and a few loose pieces of chicken stuck in the corners of his pockets, he continued to grab the plates and shove food in his pockets and his hidden bag, but after a while, the plates seemed to shy away from him, floating perhaps a little further away from him then they had been before, and though they didn''t resist when he grabbed them, he did have to strain to reach for them.


    It was only after grabbing his second plate of relatively dry sausages that the plates around him started to disappear from sight. He frowned, but before he could even begin to think about what he could do, the plates started to reappear in front of him.


    He raised an eyebrow when he saw small sandwiches, cut up fruits, and tortilla wraps, all neatly packaged in plastic wraps or little baggies, being presented to him on the plates.


    He glared at the plates, but grabbed whatever he could fit in his pockets. When he felt like he couldn''t fit anything else, he waved the plates away and they all disappeared from view, though a few floating pitchers of water, milk, and juice remained, silently floating around his empty cup as if asking for silent permission to pour themselves in.


    Flynn glared at them, and grabbed the pitcher of water from the air and poured it into his cup himself. When he drained the whole thing, he made to get up and leave the Great Hall, now that more and more students were steadily pouring in, but before he got up, he couldn''t help but notice the dipshit squad rolling in.


    Though he couldn''t possibly eat anymore or fit anything else into his pockets, it wasn''t like he had anything else to do. Though the plates and pitchers seemed to sense his hesitation, crowding around him once more in case he decided to eat more, he waved them all away so he could focus on tracking the dipshit squad.


    Though the Slytherin table was still relatively empty, the dipshit squad seemed to make their way to a specific spot at the table before sitting down, with Asshole #1 and #2 sitting on one side, and Dipshit and Bitch sitting on the other. Once they seemed completely settled in, Flynn walked over to them and sat down beside Dipshit.


    Though Dipshit himself hadn''t seemed to notice him, with how preoccupied he was with talking to the Bitch that hung off his arm, and Asshole #2 was too preoccupied with the testbook he had opened in front of him, without any girls who were interested him or any proof that he was literate enough to read a book, Asshole #1 didn''t have anything to distract him from noticing Flynn.


    Asshole #1 didn''t say anything at first, and from the dumb confused look that was frozen on his face, Flynn didn''t expect him to regain the faculty for speech any time soon.


    Though the thought of simply doing nothing and seeing if he could make Asshole #1 skip breakfast entirely just by existing was an entertaining one, he didn''t particularly want to stick around the group for any longer than he had to.


    Trying to summon a level of cheer that he''d never felt before in his life, he smiled at Asshole #1.


    "Morning," he grunted, frowning when he realized he couldn''t think of anything else to say to pretend to be friendly. How did other people do it?


    Thankfully, his mock friendliness was quickly ignored when the other members of the dipshit squad finally registered his presence. Though Asshole #2 simply raised an eyebrow at his presence, Dipshit and Bitch physically recoiled.


    "What the hell are you doing here, you filthy m-"


    "Morning gents," a voice loudly said, accompanied by an equally loud slam of a plate and silverware beside Flynn. Flynn turned around and glared up at Reginald, the Slytherin fifth year prefect. "And lady, of course. A fine morning that will hopefully lead to an even finer day of school."


    Dipshit seemed momentarily stunned by the older boy''s sudden arrival, but recovered quickly.


    "Yaxley," he said. "What are you doing here? Think you''re too good to sit with the rest of your year after you''ve been made prefect?"


    Reginald shrugged as he grabbed a plate from the air, taking a few sausages from it, before letting it float away.


    "I''ll admit, I''ve been letting the power get to my head somewhat," he said. "I''ve threatened my mates with detention for beating me at wizard chess at least twice already. They think that the joke''s already getting old, but what''s the point of being a prefect if you can''t take advantage of it? There needs to be some sort of benefit to having the role, after all. Being responsible for making sure that your fellow students follow the rules is more stressful than you''d think."


    "What, are you going to send me to detention, then?" Dipshit asked.


    "What would I be doing that for?" Reginald asked, though he didn''t bother to look up from his plate. "As far as I can see, we''ve got a group of fourth-year students mingling with one of our first years, which isn''t against any rules that I can remember. I have heard rumours that the Gryffindor house hazes their younger years by hitting them with a body bind curse, and levitating from their ankles in the middle of an abandoned hallway, right before physically assaulting them, but I doubt that members of the noble house of Slytherin would never do such a pointless and stupid thing."


    Asshole #2 winced at the words, but the rest of the group didn''t react in the same way, sneering instead at the older student.


    "What then, Yaxley?" Dipshit asked. "Are you suggesting that we let this m-"


    "What I''m saying, Selwyn," he said, stabbing his fork into his sausage, making the silver squeak loudly against the porcelain. "Is that the Gryffindors would be able to get away with such a foolish act because they are a foolish house. It suits their image. Slytherin, on the other hand, is not a foolish house. We are united and strong, and our image is stronger than what the truth may or may not be."


    "Did a teacher find him?" Asshole #2 asked.


    The rest of the dipshit squad lost their sneers at the question, wincing in realization, though Reginald didn''t react.


    "A Ravenclaw prefect discovered one of our first years hexed and bloodied on the fifth floor," Reginald said. "Thankfully, the first year had the proper sense to develop temporary amnesia, but it doesn''t change the fact that one of our own was attacked, quite possibly by a pack of Gryffindors, though I''m starting to have my doubts, though I''m not sure why. After all, no Slytherin would be stupid enough to do something like this without bothering to cover up any evidence."


    "We didn''t leave any evidence," Asshole #1 said defiantly, seeming to find his voice, though he didn''t notice his friends wincing at what he said.


    "Of course you didn''t," Reginald said, pointing a butter knife at him. "Because you didn''t do anything."


    "It''s his word against ours," Asshole #1 continued. "Who would believe a m-"


    Asshole #1 let out a wheeze of pain and buckled over the elbow that Asshole #2 pushed into his side.


    "Thank you, Richard," Reginald said, nodding at him before standing up. "I hope that you''ve managed to hear the lesson I was trying to teach? I may not be a teacher, but I do believe that we students should strive to learn wherever we can."


    "Got it, Regi," Asshole #2 said, with a strained smile. "Sorry for the trouble."


    "No trouble at all, Richard," Reginald said, with a sigh. "As long as you lot make sure to stay out of it."


    Without another word, Reginald took his food and walked away, sitting down with another group of Slytherins further down the table. Though Flynn didn''t think that Reginald had acknowledged his presence even once during his talk, Flynn still nodded appreciatively towards the older boy for the clear lesson. It wasn''t one that Flynn necessarily needed, but it was always nice to get a refresher of the golden rule that he''d always followed back in Fredericton.


    Don''t leave evidence.


    Flynn glanced at the dipshit squad, and got up, figuring that he''d done enough damage to their egos for now, even if it was by accident. His revenge didn''t necessarily need to be quick, so there wasn''t much point in pushing for more.


    "See you around," he said before leaving.


    Though he didn''t turn around, he couldn''t help but relish the four glares he felt pelting his back.


    There wasn''t much time before his first class, so Flynn made his way to the assigned classroom early. Surprisingly, there was already a small group of students waiting outside the door.


    "Hiya, Flynn."


    Flynn scowled at the small girl that placed herself in front of him. A few feet away, he noticed Sally shifting quickly away to hide herself behind a pair of Huflepuff girls, who seemed confused by the sudden intrusion to their conversation.


    "What do you want?" he asked Lily.


    "To say good morning," she said.


    "Good morning," he grunted. "Now will you leave me alone?"


    "I said I wanted to say good morning, not for you to say it to me," she said, raising a single eyebrow as she smiled. "I thought it might be too greedy to expect that from you."


    Flynn glared down at her.


    "Then I take it back," he said. "Have a horrible morning."


    "Too late!" Lily said, with a cackle.


    Thankfully, it didn''t take too long for the door to the classroom to open. Though it opened on its own, with it being a magical school with teachers who more often than not opened their doors with a wave of their wands, Flynn didn''t bother thinking much of it until he stepped inside and nearly bumped into Lily who suddenly stopped moving.


    Though Flynn considered shoving her forwards, he frowned when he noticed the reason that Lily had stopped.


    At the head of the class, a ghostly figure paced back and forth, walking despite the fact that he was clearly floating an inch or two off the ground. With a bored expression on his face, and eyes that seemed almost deader than he was dead, he stared blankly out at the class. The chalkboard behind him had "Professor Binns" written out in ghostly wisps instead of chalk.


    It didn''t take long to understand why Lily had stopped so suddenly, and with a grumble, Flynn grabbed her shoulders and pulled her out of the classroom.


    Though her entire body was stiff, Lily let herself be led out. Her entire body went limp when they finally exited the classroom and with how she fell against him, Flynn was forced to support her weight.


    "Our professor is a ghost?" she asked, in the quietest voice he''d ever heard from her.


    "Seems like it," Flynn said.


    "I''m scared of ghosts," she said.


    "That''s obvious enough," he said. "You gonna skip, then?"


    "Skip?" Lily repeated, as if she didn''t know what the word meant. "Skip class?"


    "Yeah," Flynn said. "Skip."


    "I can''t skip," Lily said nervously, though the way that she glanced between the classroom door and the hallway behind her made it seem like she was considering it, though she quickly shook her head. "I can''t."


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Why not? I did it all the time," Flynn said with a shrug.


    Lily paused, before she giggled under her breath.


    "Filntstone Fredericton," she said. "How shameless of you. Are you trying to turn me into a hooligan?"


    Flynn glared at her, but it only seemed to make her smile, even if it wasn''t as wide as it usually was.


    "I''m not trying to turn you into anything," he grumbled. "Do whatever the fuck you want. I don''t give a flying fuck."


    Lily giggled quietly again.


    "I know you don''t," she said, shaking her head once before looking up at him. "I think I''ll go to class."


    "Why?" Flynn asked. "You''re afraid of ghosts."


    "I know that," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "But unlike you, I''m a good girl who doesn''t skip classes. And it''s not like I''ll be able to avoid this class for seven whole years. I''ll just pretend he''s covered in white makeup. Like a mime. I like mimes."


    "Really?" Flynn asked. "With how much you talk, I wouldn''t have expected it."


    "Well, I do think that mimes should be able to talk too. They''re so interesting and it''s such a shame that we can never hear what they have to say."


    "That''s stupid."


    "You think everything I say is stupid."


    "Because it''s true."


    It took a few more minutes for Lily to gather enough courage to step back into the classroom, right before it started, and though she kept her head down and her eyes pointedly away from the front of the class, she managed to make it to one of the seats in the back, dragging Flynn by the sleeve into the seat beside her.


    The ghost professor barely seemed to notice anything amiss, and once the bell for the class rang, he instantly began to speak in a monotone voice about the founding of Hogwarts.


    With Binns seeming not to notice how more than half of the class fell asleep within ten minutes, he was certain that Lily could''ve gotten away with skipping the class for seven years without the professor noticing, but with how her frightened face shone with determination, he didn''t feel the need to suggest it. Though she had his arm in an iron grip, she was too weak for it to actually hurt, so he didn''t bother to brush her off, knowing it would only be more annoying if he did.


    With how scared Lily was, and how Flynn wasn''t one to fall asleep in a room full of strangers, they ended up being the only two students who were fully awake by the end of the class, and the first ones out of the door when it ended.


    "Hey, Flynn," Lily said, once they left the classroom. "Can I ask you something that I''ve been wondering about you for a while?"


    "Ask whatever you want," Flynn said. "Doesn''t mean I''ll answer."


    "Why do you smell so much like chicken?"


    "I have chicken in my pockets."


    "Oh, that makes sense. I hope I wasn''t being rude."


    Flynn grunted.


    "Do you plan to let go of my arm any time soon?" he asked.


    "You''re a surprisingly warm person, you know," she replied.


    "I run hot," Flynn grunted.


    "Is that what you think I meant, Flintstone Fredericton?" she asked.


    Flynn glared at her, before grabbing her hands and peeling her off of him.


    Lily laughed and let herself be pried off.


    "Thanks, Flynn," she said. "Sorry I said you''re a hooligan. I was just teasing. I know you''re a good boy too."


    "Fuck off," Flynn replied.


    ---


    "Partners again?" Blaise asked, as he took the seat next to Flynn.


    "Do whatever you want," Flynn responded.


    "I want to crawl in bed and go to sleep for the rest of the day," Blaise said. "I''m still feeling the effects of Binns''s lecture."


    "Then go do that. I don''t care," Flynn said.


    "Nah," Blaise said with a yawn. "Defence should be enough to wake me up, since it''s a spellwork class."


    Ten minutes later, while Blaise was visibly struggling to keep his eyes open as Quirrel stammered on about the principles of defensive spellwork, reading directly from the textbook that he had his nose buried in, Flynn couldn''t help but narrow his eyes at the turbaned man, though he made sure not to stare at the man directly.


    Something about Quirrel bothered Flynn in a way that set him on edge. He doubted that anyone else had noticed it, given how the only thing that other students in the room seemed to feel was simple boredom, but Flynn couldn''t help but think that Quirrel reminded him of some of the people that lived in Fredericton.


    His stutter felt stiff and manufactured, and his darting eyes felt like they were too sharp for the nervous man that he was trying to portray. Quirrel smelled like a con man, both literally and figuratively. Though the entire classroom smelled strongly of garlic, with cloves being hung up all over the classroom, but while the stench of garlic in the room felt stale, the smell that emanated from Quirrel himself felt fresh and overpowering to the point where it felt like he was overcompensating for something, not too different from the conmen who practically drowned themselves in cologne to hide the scent of their derelict lifestyle.


    Flynn made sure to never get caught staring, by Quirrel''s darting eyes, but by the end of the class, he decided that he probably didn''t have much to worry about. While he wouldn''t let his guard down completely, he sincerely doubted that whatever Quirrel wanted, it would have nothing to do with him.


    He would keep it in mind so he wouldn''t be screwed over later, but he ultimately decided that he didn''t particularly care whether this guy was just some schmuck that was trying to con a paycheck out of the school. He certainly didn''t have what it took to be a teacher, so maybe this was his endgame. To collect a salary and nothing else.


    In the end, the only way that it affected Flynn was that he had to listen to Blaise''s bitching at the end of the class.


    ---


    "I''m so hungry. Did they really have to make us skip lunch for this?"


    Flynn raised his eyebrow at Gregory''s complaint. Aside from the fact that Flynn had been snacking on the wrapped sandwiches he''d taken from breakfast, it was the first time he''d heard Gregory talking in sentences that were more than three words long.


    "I suppose it''s to prevent any beginners from throwing up if it''s their first time on a broom," blonde bitch said, with a disdainful sniff. "And as much as I would prefer that Hogwarts would do the sensible thing and let the experts skip this pointless affair, or at least separate us into a different class, I do appreciate the sentiment. I can only imagine that Weasley would mistaken any vomit for the slop he eats at home, and I don''t think any of us want to see what happens after that."


    "Oi," a red-headed boy shouted from across the field. "Sod off, Malfoy!"


    "Do you hear something, boys?" blonde bitch asked. "The wind''s too strong for me to hear anything, but I am picking up the distinct stench of a rabid animal."


    There was an angry bellow from the red-headed boy, which was quickly cut off by the sharp sound of a whistle.


    "Save the trash talk for when you''re quidditch players, which will be never if you keep this up," Hooch shouted. "I''ll ban the both of you from ever touching a broom on my pitch unless you quiet down right now."


    The blonde bitch gave Hooch a polite smile while the red-head didn''t even look at her, preferring to send a death glare to the blonde bitch instead, but in either case, Hooch seemed to accept the quiet that she got and started her lesson.


    Though Flynn felt ridiculous at the idea that he would be riding a broom, when he put his hand over his broom and made it jump into his palm with a single command, a sense of fulfilment washed over him even if he would never admit it. After failing to cast a single spell successfully, it was nice to finally see that something was going well for him.


    Beside him, Blaise gave him a dark glare as his own broom flailed on the floor.


    "Wipe that grin off your face, Fredericton," he grumbled.


    "I''m not smiling," Flynn said.


    "Not visibly," Blaise agreed. "But I can feel the smug energy wafting off of you, and it smells like chicken for some reason. Would it kill you to be consistent and predictable?"


    Flynn gave Gregory a glare, as the other boy glanced hopefully over in his direction at the mention of chicken.


    "I don''t owe it to you to be predictable," Flynn said. "I don''t owe you anything."


    "I''d consider it a courtesy between acquaintances," Blaise said, before turning around. "Say, what''s that sound?"


    "Gryffindor kid falling from the sky," Flynn said, right before the pudgy Gryffindor in question fell to the ground with a heavy thud.


    The pudgy kid let out a low whine of pain, as Hooch rushed over to him. After a brief inspection, she announced that she would be taking the pudgy kid to the infirmary.


    Predictably, as soon as Hooch left, blonde bitch started some sort of a fight by grabbing a small red ball that the pudgy kid had supposedly dropped during his fall.


    Though Flynn didn''t particularly care about what was effectively a schoolyard squabble that had little to no effect on him, he still couldn''t help but watch the fight with some interest. He wasn''t sure why he even cared about a fight that likely wouldn''t even come to blows, until the blonde bitch said something and took off to the skies.


    Flynn watched the blonde bitch with idle interest, until a second person took off to meet him. Flynn narrowed his eyes at the small black-haired boy.


    Harry Potter. It had only been two days ago that the small boy had caught Flynn''s interest because of how everyone in the school seemed to know him despite how unremarkable he looked, but it hadn''t been hard to puzzle out the mystery behind the boy''s fame. With the blonde bitch''s constant taunts, Harry''s verbal battle with Snape, and Harry''s general demeanour, it seemed like Harry wasn''t used to his fame or at the very least he hated the circumstances behind them if blonde bitch and Snape sought to use it as a weapon against him.


    Though that obviously wasn''t the complete picture, it should have been good enough for Flynn to stop bothering to untangle the mystery further, but for some reason it wasn''t. He couldn''t help but keep his eyes on Harry as he flew through the sky, demanding that blonde bitch give back the red ball.


    He looked up at Harry, feeling more and more annoyed as he continued to fail to understand why he cared about "figuring out" the tiny boy so desperately.


    Flynn narrowed his eyes as blonde bitch threw the red ball as far as he could. Without even having to look at Harry, he knew for a fact that Harry would shoot himself towards the ball without hesitation, not even hesitating at the possibility that he would get hurt.


    Flynn felt a flash of annoyance course through him at the sight, as he finally realized what felt so damn wrong about Harry Potter.


    Harry was a kid that had obviously been beaten down by the world, just like Flynn had been, but it wasn''t a sense of kinship that kept Flynn from completely ignoring the boy. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Even though Flynn should''ve felt a sense of familiarity with Harry, he couldn''t help but think that Harry felt completely alien.


    Flynn had seen the boy''s type dozens of times in the orphanage. In the orphanage, there were two main ways that the kids there learned how to survive. Either they got tough enough that none of the other boys would want to mess with them, or they became invisible enough that people either forgot they existed or didn''t care enough to hurt them. Flynn had obviously chosen the route of getting tough enough that nobody would ever want to mess with him, and it was equally clear that Harry had chosen the other route.


    Harry always kept his shoulders shrunken in on himself it made him look even smaller than he already was, but it wasn''t like he was particularly large or even average in the first place. His sunken cheeks and his stick thin body gave away the possibility that he hadn''t had much to eat as a kid, and his expressions seemed subconsciously muted, like he was holding himself back from giving anyone a reason to notice him. Even his long hair seemed like it was designed to cover his face and hide him from the world.


    But despite the fact that Harry looked like he had been designed in a lab to look like the most downtrodden orphan in the world, the way that Harry acted put everything at odds with his appearance.


    Harry cared. Despite his body showing exactly how cruel the world could be, Harry cared enough to put his entire body at risk to save a fucking ball, just because it belonged to his fucking friend. Harry somehow still had enough hope in the world to risk himself to try and better it.


    That pissed Flynn the fuck off.


    Even after Harry was spotted by MgGonagall and dragged back to the castle, to the delight of blonde bitch. Flynn''s dour mood refused to lift. Blaise had the sense to not talk to him any more afterwards, and with the flying lesson cancelled and rescheduled for another day, Flynn stalked off into the castle, travelling into the most secluded hallways he could find.


    Though he blamed Harry for the general distaste that settled on his tongue, he couldn''t find it in himself to say he was angry at Harry in the first place. He just felt a general distaste, and it pissed him off that he didn''t understand why.


    ---


    "Managed to calm down, Fredericton?" Blaise whispered, trying not to be heard over Sinestra''s lecture.


    "Piss off."


    "I take that as a yes. That''s good. It''s not fun to needle you when I think I''m at risk of being hit for no reason."


    "You think I wouldn''t punch you?"


    "You haven''t yet. And I''ve been quite annoying."


    "Maybe I should start."


    "You could. Then I''d stop."


    "You should''ve told me sooner. I''ll start punching you, if you''ll really shut up."


    "Yes, I just told you I would. Are you hard of hearing?"


    "Are you? Or do you just want to be punched that badly?"


    "I just don''t believe you''ll do it, to be honest."


    "Don''t fucking test me."


    "And yet I am. You have your quill, Fredericton?"


    "Ahem," Sinestra said, rather than actually clearing her throat. "Are you boys done?"


    "Yes, Professor," Blaise said, with a serious nod. "We''re very sorry."


    Sinestra narrowed her eyes at Blaise, though in the relative darkness of the Astronomy class, it was difficult to know if she would even see any insincerity there.


    "Next time I hear a word out of you two, it''s twenty points from Slytherin each," she said eventually. "Now¡­ where were we?"

 1.9 Up until Halloween

    After a few weeks of attending Hogwarts, Flynn had to admit that while he wasn''t completely used to his new life there, it honestly wasn''t too different from his life back at Fredericton. While he knew he wouldn''t be getting comfortable any time soon, it wasn''t like he''d ever been comfortable in his life. Everything just became a little more familiar.


    But even though life became more familiar, it didn''t particularly mean he had grown to like it.


    "Hiya, Flynn," Lily said.


    Flynn glanced down at his sleeve, as if he needed visual confirmation of how Lily was grabbing the sleeves of his robes.


    "Why are you grabbing me?" he asked.


    "Because sometimes you disappear when I start talking to you," she said. "This is the best way to make sure you don''t."


    Though the explanation wasn''t one he particularly liked, it was at least a sensible one, which was rare for Lily.


    "And why do you have Sally in your other hand?" he asked.


    The girl in question flinched at the mention of her name, but after a few weeks of involuntary exposure to him, she at least managed to make brief eye contact before looking away.


    "Same answer," Lily said. "Sometimes she disappears when I start talking to you. This is the best way to make sure she doesn''t."


    Flynn glared down at Lily, but with how often he tried to cow her away unsuccessfully, he didn''t bother to stare down at her for long before letting out a huff.


    "What do you want?" he asked.


    "We haven''t seen Hagrid in a while," Lily said. "Why don''t we pay him a visit?"


    "We saw him last week," Flynn replied.


    "I''d say that''s a while," Lily said. "At least enough time for him to have made another batch of rock cakes."


    Flynn narrowed his eyes at Lily, wondering how she''d known that his supply was getting low, or if she had just made a lucky guess. Regardless, she was right.


    Reaching down, he grabbed Lily''s hand and peeled her fingers off of his robe, and swatted her hand aside when she tried to grab at him again.


    "I''ll go to Hagrid''s too," he said, giving her a glare when she tried to grab his sleeve again. "I know where we''re going. I don''t need you to walk me like a fucking dog."


    "I don''t think you''d be a dog. You''re more of a prickly porcupine. Or maybe a hedgehog."


    "What the fuck are you even talking about?"


    It didn''t take long to get to Hagrid''s hut, which was rare given how many detours Lily usually took whenever they went there, but Hagrid''s hut was only a fifteen minute walk away from the main Hogwarts courtyard.


    When Lily knocked on the door three times, there was a familiar barking and a familiar grunt of annoyance right before Hagrid opened the door.


    "Oh, it''s you lot again," he said, letting go of Fang''s leash when he recognized them, letting the dog rush forward and circle around both Lily and Sally, pushing his head under Sally''s arm.


    "Hi, Hagrid," Lily said. "We''re here to spend some time with you!"


    "Can''t say I don''t appreciate it, but don''t you have anything better to do? I can''t imagine it''s very interestin'' spendin'' much time with a dumb oaf like me," Hagrid said, scratching his cheek with a massive finger.


    "Oh you shouldn''t sell yourself short, Hagrid," Lily said. "You''re a wonderful person, and I''d imagine Flynn would throw a fit if we went too long without visiting you."


    Flynn scowled at Lily, but nobody in the entire group seemed to care aside from Sally and Fang, who both flinched back. Hagrid certainly hadn''t noticed, as his face bloomed with a deep blush that was so dark that it could still be seen through his thick beard.


    "There''s no point in flatterin the groundskeeper, Lily," he mumbled, turning his face away. "But I s''ppose it would be rude te turn ye away when you''ve all made the effort to come all the way over. Come in, why don''t ye? It''s startin te get cold, round this time of year."


    The interior of Hagrid''s hut looked more or less the same as it had been when they first visited, but over time, Hagrid had invested in a few actual chairs rather than relying solely on empty boxes and cushions. Taking their usual places around the fire pit, Flynn, Lily, and Sally sat down as Hagrid rushed over to pull a large tray of rock cakes from a nearby container.


    "Just made these this mornin," Hagrid said, as he place the tray on an upside down box, not having invested in a table yet. "They''re still a little warm."


    After a thanks from Lily, and a quiet mumbled one from Sally, Lily started to launch into several questions about Hagrid''s life, somehow not having run out of things to ask about Hagrid''s personal life yet despite how many times they had already visited him, while Flynn waited for an opportunity to steal a handful of rock cakes while Lily was slowly realizing that Hagrid''s best friend, Aragog, might''ve not been human and launched into a whole series of dizzying follow-up questions about Aragog''s favourite colour and if spiders could even have favourite colours.


    At a certain point in his interrogation, Hagrid excused himself to grab a rock cake, likely more to give himself the opportunity to breathe, rather than actually wanting a snack, and paused when he noticed that a few were already missing. Like always, he smiled silently at the empty sections of the tray, but didn''t say anything about it as he took a loud bite out of the rock cake and drowned it in a sip of tea that was only relatively small to him.


    Flynn made sure that Hagrid had completely looked away before grabbing another rock cake, and taking a bite out of it before shoving the rest in his pocket, but froze when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that he''d been caught.


    Sally winced at his glare, but for the first time since they''d met, didn''t fully cower away from it. She didn''t keep eye contact with him for more than a split second, but she leaned forward to grab a rock cake off of the tray.


    Lifting it to her mouth, she tried to nibble on it before wincing.


    "Umm," she said. "How do you eat this?"


    "That?" Hagrid asked. "I always just bite into it."


    "It might be a little too hard for me," Sally said quietly, looking like she was quickly regretting her decision.


    "Really?" Hagrid asked, furrowing his eyebrows.


    "No, no," Sally said, almost immediately. "I mean, they''re a little hard, but I just prefer my food to be a little softer."


    "Ye think I should be trying to make them softer then?" Hagrid asked. "I''ve always made em like this, but I suppose if I''m serving it te guests I could tweak the recipe a little bit."


    Flynn furrowed his eyebrows, and let out a low grunt of annoyance. He reached out to Sally, and though she flinched away at his sudden movement, she couldn''t recoil away fast enough for him to grab the rock cake from her hand.


    "Shut the fuck up," he grumbled under his breath, to nobody in particular as he reached into his robes and pulled out a small jug of pumpkin juice. Peeling off the large wax seal that the Hogwarts plates had put over it for him, he dunked the rock cake into the pumpkin juice and held it there for a few seconds before pulling it out and thrusting it towards Sally, flinging small globs of pumpkin juice onto her robes.


    When Sally refused to take it, he let out a grunt of annoyance as he grabbed her wrist and placed the rock cake into her limp hand.


    "Eat," he said, holding her wrist aloft until Sally started to nod frantically and take a better hold of the rock cake.


    Nervously, she lifted the rock cake to her mouth and nibbled at it, hesitantly at first, but more confidently after she realized that she wasn''t cracking her teeth against the once rock-hard surface.


    "I usually hate pumpkin juice, but its not complete shit with the rock cakes," Flynn grumbled, pushing the rest of the jug into Sally''s chest, almost making her drop the rock cake in her hand as she scrambled to grab the jug before it fell to the floor.


    "Ye carry pumpkin juice round with ye?" Hagrid asked blankly.


    "You got a problem with that?" Flynn asked.


    "Was never a fan of it," Hagrid said. "Too sweet fer my likin''."


    "It is," Flynn said. "But most people got shit taste buds. Just give these sugar-addicted brats some pumpkin juice and they''ll be fine. Softens up the bread for their sensitive jaws too. But don''t you dare change your fucking recipe."


    "Oh... okay?" Hagrid said, sounding more confused than anything else.


    Flynn felt an uncomfortable shiver down his spine and turned around to glare at Lily, who was positively beaming at him.


    "The fuck are you looking at?"


    "Oh nothing," Lily said. "I''m just wondering why you were experimenting with pumpkin juice in the first place if you hate it so much."


    "Fuck off."


    ---


    A few weeks into October, after a Charms class that was scheduled at the end of the day, Flynn stayed behind as the rest of the students filed out of the classroom. As the last of the chatter faded, he walked up to Flitwick at his desk, who smiled up at him as he approached.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said. "Can I help you with something?"


    Though the question irked him somewhat, Flynn nodded.


    "I suck at charms," Flynn said. "I want to get better at it."


    Flitwick''s smile twitched downwards, but whether he was being professional or friendly, Flitwick managed to keep his smile from completely falling.


    "You''re a student, Mr. Fredericton," he said. "You''re here to learn, and being bad at something is simply the first step to becoming better at it."


    "I''m at the bottom of the class," Flynn said, before Flitwick could continue. "I''ve been there for a while now. I''ve only been able to cast the levitation spell, and I can barely even do that. I''m doing something wrong, and if you know it. I know I''m fucking shit, so I''d prefer it if you could just save the motivational crap. I want to get better at charms, but if you aren''t going to help me, just say it so I don''t have to waste both our times here. I''ll figure something out on my own."


    There was a long silence as Flitwick stared up at Flynn, before he sighed and steepled his fingers at his desk.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said. "I must insist that you maintain a vocabulary that isn''t quite so inflammatory during your time here at Hogwarts. As we are the only ones here, and I am painfully aware of your previous upbringing, I won''t take away house points for it now, but I will be forced to reprimand you if you insist on continuing to use it. But I know if I delay the point any further, you will only get more frustrated, so I will say now that I am more than willing to provide extra assistance for any students who may ask for it. That being said, as a Professor here at Hogwarts, I am rather busy, so we will have to maintain a schedule that would accommodate my hours. Would that be fine for you?"


    "Not like I''m busy," Flynn said, with a shrug. "I''m game. When do we start?"


    "Right now, if you''re willing," Flitwick said. "Though we will have to schedule future lessons at a later time. I''m free for about an hour, but I do have to attend a quick staff meeting later in the evening."


    Practising with Flitwick wasn''t too different from attending his classes. Flitwick assigned him a task to complete, and Flynn did his best to achieve it, but the one major difference was that every few minutes, Flitwick would frown, shake his head, and tell Flynn to try something else, whether it was to hold his wand in a different way, say his chants with a specific pronunciation, or to switch to a different spell entirely.


    It took about three minutes for Flynn to cycle through the three different spells they had learned in class already, the levitation, softening, and mending spell, and though the only amount of "success" that he''d achieved came from his attempt at the levitation charm, though it was a flawed one. Rather than getting the feather to float in front of him, at a consistent level, Flynn could only mimic the effect by sending small bursts of magic into the feather, keeping it afloat simply by pushing it back up whenever it sunk down too low.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, as he watched Flynn focus on trying to maintain his current attempt at the levitation spell. "Would you humour me and attempt to cast a few different spells that I have in mind?"


    "Why?" Flynn asked, lowering his wand as the momentary loss of focus made his feather fall slowly to the floor.


    "Humour me," Flitwick responded, before slowly taking out his wand from his robes. "It''s called the knockback jinx. Technically, this as a jinx, it''s not something that''s included in my class''s curriculum. Has Professor Quirrel demonstrated this spell for you at all in his classes?"


    "No," Flynn said.


    Flitwick sighed and raised his wand giving it a quick flourish and wordlessly levitating one of the student chairs closer and placing it gently on his desk. "While it would be unbecoming of me to criticize another teacher''s class, I must say I''m a tad disappointed from what I''ve been hearing from my students about Professor Quirrel. I suppose the poor boy''s never been the same since his visit to Romania, but always has been on the timid side," he said, before frowning and shaking his head slightly. "But enough pointless gossip. Spongify."


    Flitwick tapped the chair in front of him with his wand, and though there was no immediate change in the chair, Flynn expected that if he touched the chair, his finger might sink into the magically softened material.


    "Of course, that wasn''t what I wished to demonstrate to you, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, still with his wand held up in the air. "As you might guess from the name, the knockback jinx is one that can knock an object or a person backwards, and I didn''t want to have to fix any furniture with this demonstration. I would also suggest that you clear the way Mr. Fredericton. As you may have remembered from my class on the softening charm, while this chair may be softer to the touch, it''s still just as heavy as it was before, and I would prefer it if I didn''t accidentally hit you with it."


    When Flynn took a step back, Flitwick nodded but kept his wand trained on the softened chair.


    "Unlike the other three spells that you''ve learned in my class, you''ll find that the wand movement for this spell is much more forgiving. Most spells that are designed for combat are created in such a way that it allows for a wizard or witch to cast spells while they are moving and simple enough that multiple spells could be chained into one another. As such, the Knockback charm, which is designed to flip an opponent and push them away, only requires one to dip, raise, and thrust their wand forward in one smooth motion. Like so."


    Flynn watched as Flitwick demonstrated the wand movement without actually casting the spell, repeating the movement several times, but changing the exact wand path each time.


    "Each of the movements that I''m demonstrating now are all perfectly viable ways of casting the spell," Flitwick said, demonstrating odder and odder variations of the same movement. "Whether you''re firing a spell from behind cover, laying flat on the floor, or any other position you can think of, spells that were designed for magical combat often share this trait of more flexible wandwork that can suit any sort of situation a magical combatant may find themselves in."


    "The incantation for this spell, flipendo, follows a similar rule, in that neither the pronunciation or enunciation do not affect the quality of the spell to a significant degree," Flitwick said. "Similarly to the wandwork, many spells for magical combat are created with the intent of being usable in an environment where conditions may not be ideal. In magical combat, depending on how violent it is, a combatant may slur their words if they are exhausted, or they may grit their teeth in pain if they are injured, but combat spells are designed with that in mind, but don''t be fooled into thinking that just because the wandwork and incantation are flexible, that combat spells are objectively easier to cast than their more delicate counterparts.


    "Now, just as I''ve taught you in my other classes, the ''feeling'' you have while casting spells also affects the quality of it, and I suppose it''s not a difficult thing to assume that a spell designed for combat would require a more combative quality to your intent. While the knockback jinx may technically work with good wandwork and incantation alone without a strong intent behind it, it won''t do much to push something as light as this chair unless the caster pours themselves into the spell, truly wanting more than anything to knock back their target."


    Flitwick gave his wand a slight flourish, and thrust his wand forward in a sharp jab.


    "Flipendo!" he shouted.


    A colourless burst of light erupted from the end of Flitwick''s wand, jumping from the tip and crashing into the chair. Immediately, the chair shot off towards the end of the classroom, bouncing off the wall and with its momentum being bled down, bounced a few times on the tables scattered around the room, before it fell on the floor.


    Flitwick waved his wand and rearranged the desks that had been pushed out of their original places by the flying chair, before returning the flying chair back to the top of his desk.


    "Would you care to try, Mr. Fredericton?" Flitwick asked.


    Flynn answered by raising his wand at the chair. Despite Flitwick''s insistence that the wand movements didn''t need to be precise, the habit of practising his wand movements before he attempted to cast a spell had already been ingrained in him so he waved his wand at it slowly, practising Flitwick''s down, up, and forward motion without actually casting the spell.


    When Flynn felt his wand pulsing in response, he tried not to flinch in surprise. He stopped himself from pulling it up to his eyes to inspect it, not wanting Flitwick to get the idea that anything was wrong, but without even looking, Flynn had trouble believing that anything was wrong in the first place. While his wand pulsed even before he even put any magical energy behind it, it somehow felt more controlled than any spell that he''d cast so far. It was just... excited.


    Flynn frowned, but couldn''t help but feel the excitement bleed into him as his own body started to pulse with magic. It wasn''t an unfamiliar feeling, as magic usually coursed through him whenever he prepared to cast a spell, but it felt different this time. It flowed freely between his body and his wand, rather than being stifled and choked out, and though his magic skirted around playfully at the tip of his wand, it didn''t push against him, only silently and politely requesting to be let free.


    With no reason to refuse, Flynn glared at the chair, imagining himself getting up and kicking it away so hard that it would hit the opposite wall of the classroom and burst through it. His magic swirled within him, coalescing at the tip of his wand in a whirlwind of excited energy.


    Flynn thrust his wand forward and shouted.


    "Flipendo!"


    A loud crack of sound echoed in the room as magic burst from his wand tip, accompanied by a bright flash of light. Not expecting the amount of kickback that the spell would give, Flynn''s arm flew up, nearly forcing his wand out of his hands entirely. Though he''d been aiming for the center of the chair, the unexpected recoil behind his spell threw off his aim, and the bolt of magic that erupted from his wand hit the chair at an angle, sending it spinning and flying violently backwards. Though the chair shot off at a relatively straight path, as soon as it the far wall, the violent spin behind it caused it to bounce around in chaotic directions, knocking over tables, chairs, and even shattering one of the wooden chandeliers that hung over the classroom, before Flitwick raised his wand and stopped it midair.


    "I think that''s enough of that," Flitwick said, with clear amusement in his voice as he set the chair down. "A rather impressive display, Mr. Fredericton."


    Flynn blinked a few times, before he realized that Flitwick was even addressing him. "Sure," Flynn said, barely paying attention as he glanced between his wand and the utter chaos that his spell had caused in the classroom.


    Flitwick chuckled softly before he waved his wand again, and the scattered furniture rearranged itself to how it had been before Flynn''s spell, even fixing the broken chandelier with a flick of his wrist.


    "The mending charm, as I''m currently demonstrating, is also a charm that you''ll come to learn in my class, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, as the last of the scattered wood chips merged seamlessly back into the chandelier. "But that is for another time. While I may not have taught you a spell that will affect your grades in my class directly, and I''m afraid that we don''t have much more time to go over class material today, I hope you leave this room with a renewed sense of confidence, Mr. Fredericton. You are here for a reason."


    Flynn nodded dumbly, still staring at his wand. "Sure," he said.


    "Before I formally dismiss you, would you like to hear a secret of mine?" Flitwick asked.


    "Sure," Flynn said.


    Flitwick gave Flynn a wide smile.


    "I was horrible at charms when I first started to learn magic," Flitwick said. "It was by far my worst subject, but after years of trying, something just clicked within me at a certain point and I shot up to the top of my class within a year. Luckily for me, that was the year I took my OWLs. I wasn''t sure if my Charms Professor was proud or furious."


    Though he wasn''t sure of what the exact message that Flitwick wanted to impart was, Flynn could understand the general sentiment behind it. "Okay," he said, with a nod.


    Flitwick laughed again, before waving Flynn away.


    "Run along now, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said. "I''ve got my meeting to prepare for. I''ll speak with you later on the specifics of our arrangement, either after one of our classes together, or by owl."


    "Okay," Flynn said, with a nod.


    "Have a good rest of your evening, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, with a smile.


    Flynn nodded back, and turned around to leave.


    Once he was out, he immediately started to walk as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. Once he had gotten to a secluded enough section of the castle that he was sure that nobody was watching him, he broke out into a sprint towards one of the abandoned classrooms that he had discovered during his walks, and locked the door behind him once he got inside.


    He wasn''t sure if anyone could hear him flinging around chairs and tables in the abandoned classroom, but he quickly found that he didn''t care. Even after he casted enough spells, shouting until his voice was sore, the rush of adrenaline refused to leave him completely, leaving him panting in the middle of a pile of wood chips.


    With not much more to throw around, but with his excitement refusing to quell, he dropped down into a low stance and started to shadowbox. Though it felt a little lacking, without anything to actually hit, it would have to do.


    ---


    Flynn had never particularly enjoyed the holidays. Though he had once looked forward to Christmas and Halloween a bit more when he was younger, his enjoyment of the holidays faded with age, once the donated sweaters that the orphanage always got at Christmas started to get too small for him to wear, and after he met Tom and Jones and they forced him to stop pickpocketing drunk partygoers at Halloween, the utility of the holidays faded away completely.


    As Halloween approached Hogwarts, Flynn wasn''t impressed enough by the decorations and costumes that came with it to spontaneously develop a love for the holiday. By the time that the Halloween Feast rolled around, Flynn hadn''t improved his opinion of the holiday at all, despite Lily''s efforts.


    Eating dinner out of his pockets wasn''t an uncommon affair for Flynn, and eating alone in the halls on October 31 wasn''t any different just because other people arbitrarily decided it was a special day. If anything, the Halloween feast just made him want to avoid the Great Hall even more than usual, with how obnoxiously loud it had been when he passed by it.


    Finding a secluded spot in the halls instead, Flynn ate his food in peace, though he couldn''t help but glare angrily down at the Halloween-themed sandwiches that the Hogwarts plates had given him earlier that day. Though a small part of him was annoyed by the idea that he was being forced to partake in the holiday against his will, the sight of the plates being clearly disappointed when he tried to refused him annoyed him more than the holiday itself, and regardless of whatever they used to dye the food and colour in little pictures of bats on the bread, it was still tasty enough that he couldn''t complain.


    But he still grumbled a little.


    Flynn was halfway through a sandwich, when he nearly spat out what was in his mouth. Grimacing and with a bit of trouble, he swallowed the rest of the bite that he''d already taken, before wrapping up the rest of his sandwich and throwing it into his pockets.


    Flynn grabbed his nose to give him a moment of reprieve from the foul stench that had suddenly assaulted him, but let go of his nose a moment later. Flynn wasn''t a stranger to nasty smells, and knew that it was usually better to get used to it if he wasn''t absolutely confident that he could avoid it.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Though he hadn''t been a victim of Peeves or the Weasley pranksters yet, living in Hogwarts meant that he was at least aware of them. He considered turning around and walking where he came from, but with how suddenly the smell had crept up on him, it was difficult to tell where exactly it was coming from.


    Still grimacing at the smell, Flynn chose a general direction and started to walk, hoping that he wouldn''t run into any annoyances along the way.


    He walked along the halls, annoyed by how the smell only seemed to get stronger as he walked down the halls, but annoyance turned into caution when he heard the shuffling of something big.


    Quickly, Flynn opened a door to an abandoned classroom and snuck inside, right as a lumbering creature turned the corner. Flynn narrowed his eyes through the crack that he left open, analysing the creature that passed by. Twelve feet tall, with gray skin and muscles that were thick and lumpy to the point of being grotesque, dragging a club on the floor that was nearly as large as Flynn was tall. Flynn couldn''t identify the creature, but with the way that it casually took bits of stone off the walls as it stumbled into them in a daze, it was easy to tell that this thing was dangerous.


    Flynn didn''t dare to breathe as the creature passed by him, and after a few minutes of waiting, he opened the door.


    With a quick and careful glance, he confirmed that the coast was clear, but before he could take a single step out of the room, he heard a high pitched shriek echoing through the walls, in the direction that the creature had lumbered off towards.


    Flynn frowned, and started to jog towards the sound of the scream, drawing his wand and feeling his magic pulsing through it in time with his quickening heartbeat. Of course, he definitely wasn''t running towards the scream with any intention of anybody that was stupid enough to get caught unawares by something that announced its presence so openly with its smell, but he had been itching for a proper fight for a long time now, and he could only hope that the creature would give him one.


    Though he had no idea what the precedent for fighting a magical creature was in Hogwarts''s rules, he doubted that he would get into any trouble if he was doing it for the "valiant act" of saving a dumb girl who didn''t know sense.


    Running down the hallway in a dead sprint, Flynn followed the trail of bits of broken rubble that the creature had made, until he heard the sounds of a panicked conversation just around the corner. When he rounded it, Flynn''s eyes narrowed when he recognized Harry and Ron, as they seemed to be desperately trying to open a door, fiddling with a key as another scream rang out from behind the door.


    Not caring enough about what the exact context was, Flynn pointed his wand at the door and shouted out.


    "Move!"


    Harry and Ron both turned around with a look of both surprise and guilt as they finally registered his presence, right before their eyes widened at the sight of his raised wand. As soon as they started to scramble backwards, Flynn flourished his wand and stabbed it forward.


    "Flipendo!" he shouted.


    A burst of light erupted from the end of Flynn''s wand, hitting the door and blasting it off its hinges. There was a heavy thud and a dull grunt, as the creature inside grabbed the back of its head with both hands, rubbing it slightly before turning around to search blearily for its attacker.


    "Hermione!" Harry gasped. "Confuse the troll! I''ll get her."


    Flynn frowned as Harry rushed inside the washroom towards the frightened bushy haired girl that was cowering at the far end of the bathroom, confused about what Harry was hoping to achieve by trapping himself inside the room with the troll. Thankfully, the troll seemed just as confused by the small boy''s decision as it blankly followed Harry''s reckless charge with its eyes before a metal pipe hit its head.


    "Oy, pea-brain!" Ron shouted, lifting a small chunk of a porcelain sink that the troll had torn from the wall. "Over here!"


    Though the troll didn''t seem like it had even noticed the metal pipe hitting it, choosing to continue to rub the spot that Flynn''s spell had launched a door into it, it still turned to Ron with a glare in its eyes, rubbing its head with more vigour as if it thought that Ron was responsible for the hit to its head.


    Flynn glared at Ron as well, before he raised his wand towards the troll.


    "Flipendo!" he shouted.


    Another burst of magical light erupted from Flynn''s wand, hitting the troll square in the chest. Flynn''s eyes widened when the light seemed to sink into the troll''s flesh, sparking for a moment, before dissipating harmlessly over its skin. The troll grunted in more annoyance than pain, stumbling back half a step but otherwise being unaffected.


    Flynn grimaced at the sight, having expected his spells to do at least a little more damage to the troll. The creature in question grimaced back at him, and let out a low huff, before lifting its head and letting out a loud bellow.


    Flynn winced at the rush or hot breath that washed over him and narrowed his eyes against the rancid breath that threatened to blind him with how badly it made his eyes water. Even before the troll made its first heavy step, making the entire bathroom shake around them, it was obvious to Flynn that he would need to keep his distance from the creature, but with the reduced effectiveness of his spells, he wasn''t sure if he would be able to keep the creature away if a full powered knockback jinx could only make it stumble.


    With how much he''d practised the spell, he knew for a fact that he should''ve been able to at least knock something of the troll''s size over, at the very least, but the way that the spell had fizzled into the troll''s flesh made him think that there was something else at play here.


    Rather than try to piece together why the troll didn''t seem affected by his spells, Flynn threw away the idea of jinxing the troll altogether, instead glancing around at the various pieces of debris scattered all over the floor, knowing that regardless of what protection it might have against magic, he doubted that the troll could ignore the laws of physics. There was the issue that Flynn would have trouble launching the pieces of debris from the floor, since he could only shoot them in a straight line, but when he saw the red-headed boy, staring wide eyed in fear at the roaring troll, he got an idea.


    "Ron!" he shouted, pointing at a sink that was lying in front of him. "Use the Levitation spell!"


    "What?" Ron asked, before wincing when the troll took another step in their direction.


    Grimacing, Flynn knelt down to pick up a small rock, and heaved it at the troll''s eyes. Though his throw hadn''t been accurate in the slightest, the troll raised its hands to cover his face.


    "I''m going to blast stuff at it," Flynn shouted, talking as simply as he possibly could. "Aim for me."


    It took a few more throws for Ron to seem to understand what Flynn wanted, and with a shaky nod, Ron pulled out his wand.


    "Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron shouted.


    Though the sink that floated up in front of Flynn was shaky at best, it was still much better than what Flynn would''ve been able to do himself. Once it was high enough, Flynn ducked down slightly to get a better angle towards the troll''s face and stabbed his wand forward.


    "Flipendo!"


    There was a violent burst of light and sound, followed by the whistle of wind as the sink shot forward like a bullet.


    The troll blinked a few times as it seemed to struggle to understand what had just happened, but Flynn grunted in annoyance at the near miss.


    "Raise it higher!" Flynn shouted. "I can''t aim when you put them so low."


    "Hey! I''m trying my best!" Ron shouted back, before he levitated another sink up into the air, a little higher than he did the last.


    Flynn sent the sink flying towards the troll''s face, successfully hitting it in the jaw this time. It let out a low bellow of pain as it winced back, taking a few steps back before covering its face.


    "Don''t let up, Ron!" Flynn shouted. "Give me more."


    "Yeah, okay," Ron said in an annoyed voice that made it clear that he wasn''t exactly happy with Flynn''s orders, but didn''t have much breath to spare that wasn''t reserved for spellcasting.


    With each piece of rubble and porcelain that Ron lifted up in the air, Flynn fired it off almost instantly, not wanting to give the troll any time to recover. Not having recovered from the first hit, it stopped trying to walk forward, instead focusing on covering its head with its bulky arms, letting out low groans of pain whenever it was hit. Eventually, it started to stumble backwards, and behind it, Hermione seemed to finally snapped out of her frozen state of fear and let Harry pull her out of the way right before the troll fell against the wall.


    "Keep going!" Flynn shouted.


    "I am!" Ron shouted back, more annoyance starting to creep into his voice as he grew more confident.


    With Ron''s help, Flynn fired more and more pieces of rubble at the troll, as it curled up further and further into its own arms, whining in pain as it tried to make itself as small as it possibly could. Flynn gritted his teeth and continued to fire, but after sending a small chunk of rock into the troll''s knee, making it cry out in pain, Flynn frowned when ammunition stopped floating in front of him.


    "What the fuck are you doing, Ron?" He growled. "Keep levitating more shit to blast at it."


    Ron winced, but refused to raise his wand.


    "Mate," he said. "Don''t you think that''s enough? I''m starting to feel bad for the big lug."


    Flynn glanced back at the troll, still curled up in a ball despite not having anything flying in its direction and scowled at it.


    "We need to make sure it can''t move anymore," Flynn said. "Don''t just fucking stand around. Help me take this ugly fuck down."


    Ron winced, but after a moment of thought, frowned and glowered at Flynn.


    "Do it yourself," Ron said. "We''ve beaten it already. Hermione''s safe. Let''s just get out of here."


    Flynn glared at the shorter boy for a moment, but didn''t hold the glare for long, not wanting to keep his eyes away from the simpering troll for long.


    "Fine," Flynn said. "I''ll do it myself."


    Not wanting to attempt a levitation spell when he knew it wouldn''t be likely to succeed, Flynn knelt down to pick up a bowling ball sized chunk of rubble and tossed it into the air.


    "Flipendo!"


    It hit the ball, but without an easy way to aim, it just barely missed, hitting the wall right above the troll''s head. Though the troll had its eyes covered, the sharp sound made it cry out in shock. Frowning, Flynn picked up another rock and tried again, hitting the troll''s side this time. Flynn sent about five more pieces of rubble flying towards the troll, with varying degrees of success, before he noticed a large pane of mirror glass that had been knocked out of its place and was lying on the floor.


    Reaching down, he gingerly picked it up, making sure not to cut himself against it, and threw it at the troll. While his throw was strong enough that the mirror landed against the troll''s leg, it didn''t do anything to harm it, but thankfully that hadn''t been Flynn''s goal. With how carefully he had to handle the glass pane with both hands, he hadn''t had the time to try and shoot it out of the air, but with the glass conveniently lying against the troll''s leg, Flynn took out his wand and pointed it at the glass.


    "Flipendo!"


    There was a loud crash of shattering glass, accompanied by a surprised shriek from Hermione and a loud bellow of pain from the troll as shards of glass shot into its skin. Flynn raised his wand, intending to send the glass even deeper, but he frowned when a small boy stepped in front of him.


    "Stop it," Harry said, staring defiantly up at him.


    "You fucking idiot," Flynn growled. "Move out of the way if you don''t want to get hurt."


    Harry glared up at him, and shook his head.


    "Can''t you see it''s given up?" Harry asked. "Let''s just leave before any teachers come. We''re not supposed to be out here."


    "You want me to leave?" Flynn asked, glowering down at the smaller boy. "Fucking make me."


    Though Harry''s confidence seemed to deflate somewhat under Flynn''s glare, the smaller boy refused to move or even look away. Harry kept his eyes fixed on Flynn as he spoke darkly under his breath.


    "I hate people like you," Harry said. "I hate people that bully others just because they can."


    "Are you fucking stupid?" Flynn asked, more offended by Harry''s lack of sense than he was by the accusation against his character. "You think I''m doing this for fucking fun? I thought you, of all fucking people, should understand what''s fucking necessary to-"


    "LOOK OUT!"


    Without any time to look up from Harry to try and identify the threat, the only thing that Flynn could do was to brace himself, tensing up and raising his arms to protect himself against the unknown threat before something hit Harry from behind, sending him crashing violently into Flynn. Something heavy bounced against the arm that he was using to protect his temple as Flynn fell backwards, and the wind was knocked out of him as he fell hard on his back.


    Flynn tried to scrabble up, but with Harry''s body pinning him down, and through the breathless dizziness he felt, he could barely roll over. Someone screamed something, but he couldn''t tell what was said as he struggled to lift his head high enough to look around and try to figure out what had just happened.


    When he saw the troll getting up, sending a dopey grin in his direction while picking out glass shards from its leg, he groaned.


    He groaned again when he noticed the wounds troll''s wounds disappearing quickly after the glass shards were pulled out, like its flesh was knitting itself closed, finally remembering what Ollivander had once said about his wand.


    "The trolls of old were renowned by their regenerative abilities, to the point where they could regrow heads and organs if you did not set them on fire or destroy their heart directly."


    Or something like that.


    As the floor shook underneath him, Flynn had trouble understanding what was going on at first, but when the floor shook a second time, Flynn realised that the troll was walking towards them.


    "Fuck," he said, as he pushed Harry''s body off of him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."


    Flynn managed to push himself to his feet, but wobbled in place as he struggled to stay on them. In front of him, he saw a few vague blurs in the corner of his vision, of Ron and Hermione rushing over and placing themselves in between the troll and Harry''s unconscious body, but he ignored them as he aimed over their heads.


    "Flipendo!"


    A burst of light erupted from his wand and hit the troll square in the chest, but other than a slight grimace, its only other reaction was to smile and continue walking.


    In front of him, he saw Ron and Hermione firing off a few spells of their own, but though the burst of fire that erupted from Hermione''s wand seemed to make the troll flinch back, it otherwise continued to walk forward.


    Flynn groaned and raised his wand to fire off another knockback jinx, before a pair of suits of armour flew directly over Flynn''s head and crashed violently into the troll. With a look of dumb surprise on its face, the troll grabbed at its two sudden assailants, smashing them together successfully, but recoiled back further when a spout of flame erupted from the floor in front of it.


    Flynn blinked a few times, wondering for a moment whether it was Ron or Hermione that was responsible for the fire, before he heard a shout from behind him.


    Turning around, he saw the familiar figures of McGonagall and Snape thrusting their wands forward at the troll, while Quirrel stood nervously behind them. Though Snape seemed to be responsible for the fire, McGonagall quickly twirled her wand, and the two suits of armour that she controlled disassembled themselves and the individual parts clasped themselves around the limbs of the troll, forcing them together and sending it toppling to the ground.


    Though he couldn''t hear it, Flynn could easily see from the distorted expression on the troll''s face as it feigned another cry, but Snape quickly approached it, tapping his wand on the troll''s forehead once before the creature''s face went slack in instant unconsciousness.


    Flynn frowned as a stretcher appeared out of nowhere and tried to knock his legs out from under him. Kicking it to the side, he started to walk away.


    McGonagall shouted something that he couldn''t quite understand, and he glared at her in response.


    "I''m fine," he said, though he wasn''t sure how slurred his voice actually sounded relative to what he heard. "I''m going to bed. I''m fucking tired."


    He heard something else being shouted at him, before he felt an invisible force knock his legs out from underneath him. Flynn scrambled for purchase as he was laid back, but found none, except for the stretcher that floated underneath him to catch him.


    "Let go of me, you old bitch!" Flynn shouted.


    He didn''t know if he had said anything actually intelligible, but regardless, nobody seemed to listen as he was floated away against his will.


    He didn''t know how long he''d floated for, or if he''d been conscious for that entire time, but eventually he came to a sudden, but gentle stop in the air.


    There was a long moment of pause, as Flynn used the apparent distraction to try and struggle out of the stretcher, before another invisible force took hold of him and placed him on his feet on the floor.


    As Flynn blinked blearily at the sight of Flitwick, smiling up at him with his hands folded in front of him, Flitwick paused for a moment before he slowly drew his wand from his robes and pointed it at Flynn.


    Though a flash of panic coursed through Flynn, the inquiring look on Flitwick''s face gave Flynn enough pause to realise that Flitwick was silently asking for permission.


    Flynn glared down at the man for a few long seconds, waiting for Flitwick''s calm demeanour to crack. When it never did, Flynn gave Flitwick a slow and cautious nod.


    Flitwick nodded, and said something that Flynn couldn''t quite understand, before reaching up to tap Flynn''s forehead with his wand.


    "Can you hear me now, Mr. Fredericton?" Flitwick asked.


    Flynn frowned, barely having realized that he had lost his hearing in the first place.


    "Yeah," he said, frowning when he heard the slight slur in his voice. "I can."


    "I''m glad to hear it," Flitwick said, with a serious nod. "Now I''ll be frank with you, Mr. Fredericton. I may have used a simple healing charm on you, but I would not call myself a practitioner of healing magic. I dare say you''ve received enough damage that it''s beyond my own capabilities, but I doubt it would be a problem for our resident healer, Madam Pomfrey. She is quite good, the best in the country, and I''m sure she''d take good care of you if you''re willing to go to the infirmary."


    Flynn glared down at Flitwick, but he found that he couldn''t summon any heat to it.


    "Fine," he said.


    Despite how Flynn practically spat out the word, Flitwick nodded and smiled up at him.


    "Excellent," Flitwick said. "Will you be able to follow me, or would you like to be brought to the infirmary in a stretcher?"


    "Fuck off," Flynn said. "I can walk on my own."


    "Once again, I must insist that you at least try to control your language somewhat, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said. "Though I won''t be taking off any points for it at this moment, seeing as you are no doubt suffering the effects of a concussion. I myself, tend to get a little potty mouthed whenever I suffer a head injury, though I''m not sure if Professor McGonagall full accepted that excuse or not."


    "The old bitch deserved it," Flynn grumbled.


    "She was concerned for you," Flitwick replied easily. "With one of her students having been knocked unconscious, she was concerned that you would also collapse in an unknown part of the castle if you were left unattended."


    Even if he had a reply to that, the thought failed to form completely in his mind and fizzled out, escaping his mouth in an unintelligible grumble.


    Flitwick nodded, as if Flynn had made a poignant comment that he agreed with, but said nothing as he headed down the hallway, his shoes tapping rapidly against the floor as his short legs made double time to set a good pace.


    Flynn followed Flitwick silently.


    "So the boy who did fuck all''s unconscious?"


    Flitwick frowned, but seemed to decide that it was a battle not worth fighting at the moment.


    "Mr. Potter is indeed unconscious," Flitwick said. "But rest assured, he will be fine. As I said, Madam Pomfrey is an excellent Healer. "


    "What about the other two idiots?" Flynn asked.


    "Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger were relatively unharmed thanks to your actions," Flitwick said, with a smile. "I''m sure they''re very grateful for what you did for them."


    "They can be grateful by trying to kill themselves in a place that''s not as inconvenient for me," Flynn said, with a scowl. "Fucking idiots can save themselves next time."


    There was a short silence, before Flynn glanced down at Flitwick, who was staring up at him with a raised eyebrow and an thoughtful look in his eye. A sudden flash of heat entered Flynn''s face, though he wasn''t sure why.


    "The fuck are you looking at?" Flynn growled.


    "Oh, nothing," Flitwick said, though he didn''t look away. "I''m just thinking that I might be getting closer to understanding you a little bit better, Mr. Fredericton."


    "Fuck off," Flynn snapped.


    ---


    Madam Pomfrey turned out to be an amazing Healer, though he couldn''t be sure whether Flitwick''s praise of her had been genuine, since he had nobody else to compare her skills to, but with how instantly and casually Madam Pomfrey was able to clear his head and make the bruises over his body disappear with a quick inspection and a single tap of her wand, he couldn''t help but silently marvel at the experience.


    It was enough that when Pomfrey insisted that he stay at the infirmary overnight, despite feeling perfectly fine, he didn''t argue against her, since she clearly knew what she was doing.


    Thankfully, she at least let him pick the bed that he would be staying on, and though only one of the other beds being occupied, he chose a spot in the room that was as far away from the boy who did fuck all as possible, while still choosing a place that had a clear view of all the entrances to the room.


    With how empty the infirmary was, it was easy to eavesdrop on the quick conversation that Pomfrey had with both Hermione and Ron, and despite their insistence that they stay by Harry''s side, Pomfrey had been quick to kick them out, stating that the only way that they would be allowed to stay in the infirmary would be if they were sick or injured. Though Ron hadn''t seemed to understand the implied threat that Pomfrey would inflict both on them if they tried to stay any longer, Hermione got the hint and dragged Ron out.


    "I''m leaving a slowing draught beside your bed for the night," Pomfrey said. "I assume that you won''t need it, but if you get even the slightest hint of a headache, drink the whole thing and ring the bell that''s right beside it. I''ll come running right over."


    "What does it do?" Flynn asked, suspicious of the grey-ish liquid that swirled inside its vial despite nothing touching it.


    "It relaxes your brain," Pomfrey said frankly. "It slows down everything that goes on in there, including anything that might be causing damage to it. The feeling can be addicting if the draught is used improperly, so if I see that it''s missing or if you''ve drunk any without actually needing it, I''ll be doing everything in my power to make sure that you''re kicked out of this school, got it?"


    The idea of drugs had never appealed to him, and the crackheads he''d seen in Fredericton, drowning in their own piss after a particularly bad drug binge, only ever made the idea less appealing. Though Pomfrey said that last part almost monotonously, like she had repeated the same warning enough times that it was an automatic process, Flynn nodded without any argument.


    "Good," Pomfrey said, giving her own nod in response. "Now go to sleep. It''s a late night for all of us, and I expect to give you a clean bill of health tomorrow. You may still be excused from classes for tomorrow, if you believe that you need a moment to recuperate emotionally, but it won''t be a free day for you. You''ll be expected to report to your Head of House for any tasks they might have for you, if you do decide that you''ll need a moment away from your peers. But that''s something you''ll have to decide tomorrow."


    Flynn nodded without argument, and with nothing else to say, Pomfrey left the room, presumably to go to sleep herself, leaving Flynn alone in the large infirmary with an unconscious Harry Potter at the other side of the room.


    He glared in the direction of the boy who did fuck all, until he felt sleep slowly take him.

 1.10 After Halloween

    The next morning, Flynn woke up with no complications that he could feel in his body, and after a brief inspection, Pomfrey quickly agreed with his self-assessment, though she did admit that she couldn''t give a diagnosis on his mental state after fighting a troll.


    Though he was tempted to go to class, just so his classmates would know that a troll attack wouldn''t be enough to even inconvenience him, he quickly decided that he didn''t really care much about what the brats in his class thought about him. Besides, after going to classes consistently for two months straight after being a habitual truant back in Fredericton, the free pass to skip classes was a tempting one, even if he would be assigned some sort of labour in place of that.


    Though he wasn''t sure if Pomfrey believed him when he said that he was too emotionally distressed to want to go to classes, she didn''t argue against it and told him to report directly to Snape''s office to see what tasks he might have for him.


    When Flynn knocked on Snape''s door, the greasy Professor didn''t look particularly happy to see him, but seemed to be expecting him with how quickly he set Flynn on the task of gathering and separating the different materials that Snape''s fifth year students would be using on the first class of the day. Flynn was instructed not to use magic to carry them around, seeing as how the use of spells would potentially corrupt the purity of the ingredients, and gave Flynn a pair of gloves to use as some of the ingredients were apparently poisonous to the touch.


    With no hesitation, Flynn did as he was told, and divided the ingredients amongst each of the tables, and when a few of the older students started to file into the classroom, Snape sent him to a small storage room where he was told to scrub down the used cauldrons. Though Snape did mention that Flynn could use magic to scrub the cauldrons, as he wasn''t necessarily being punished for anything and it was just busywork to keep him occupied, it wasn''t like Flynn knew any spells that could help him clean the cauldrons anyways.


    Regardless, cleaning wasn''t something that Flynn was unused to, with how often he cleaned Jones''s gym, so he quickly fell into a trance-like state as he scrubbed down the cauldrons in the storage room.


    Despite the volume of cauldrons he had with him in the room, the first period went on for long enough that he was nearly finished by the time the bell rang, and when Snape opened the door, he seemed surprised by the amount of progress that Flynn had made.


    Despite any surprise that Snape might have felt, he didn''t hesitate in instructing Flynn to prepare another batch of ingredients for the next class. Once again, Flynn did as he was told and when he finished, he was sent into the storage room again to clean up the rest of the cauldrons.


    Flynn ended up finishing long before the class ended, and though he didn''t have much to do, he busied himself with cleaning up whatever he could without messing with how anything was placed, knowing just how fussy people could be about how they stored things.


    When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Snape opened the door once more and raised an eyebrow once again.


    Though Flynn waited for Snape to say or do anything, after a few seconds of silence, simply standing in the doorway, Flynn glowered at him.


    "Fredericton," Snape said in a carefully neutral voice. "As your head of house, I have been made aware of the... challenging circumstances from which you come from."


    Flynn waited for Snape to continue, but when he didn''t, Flynn glared at him with a challenging look.


    "Yeah?" Flynn said. "You got a problem with that?"


    Snape said nothing in response, and Flynn wondered for a moment if he would have to push the Professor out of the way to leave, Snape turned around quickly, his cloak billowing behind him.


    "You will be dismissed for lunch," Snape said, with his back still turned. "But before you leave, I will need to decide on what you will be doing for the rest of the afternoon. I won''t be needing your assistance for any more of my classes today, but I cannot allow you to roam the castle without purpose while you are my responsibility."


    Flynn stared at Snape''s back, wondering what he was getting at, but said nothing.


    "Tell me. Why do you believe that you were chosen to be a part of the noble house of Slytherin?"


    Though Flynn''s first thought was that he was placed there because he was "rude" like Lily had said, he doubted that the head of the house would appreciate that reasoning, no matter how accurate it was given the amount of utter assholes he knew in the house.


    "I was told that it''s because I want power," Flynn said.


    "Told by who, exactly?" Snape asked.


    "The hat."


    "I see," Snape said, staying silent for another long moment before speaking up again.


    "There are a few books in the Hogwarts library that I''ve been meaning to reference for my own purposes," Snape said, sitting down at his desk and pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. "I expect you to retrieve them and deliver them to me after the end of my last class. Do not cause any trouble in the meantime, or you will regret it."


    Flynn said nothing as Snape reached out to hand him the piece of parchment. Neatly written out on it in sharp cursive were three book titles: Curses and Countercurses, A Theory of Potions, and A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells.


    "The first two books can be found in the common sections of the library, but the last will require access to the restricted section," Snape said, as Flynn grabbed the paper from his hands. "Touching the wrong book in the restricted section may result in you becoming cursed, so I would follow her instructions carefully. A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells is not, in itself, a dangerous book, but the subject''s complexity and potential danger is enough that it earned a spot in the restricted sections of the Library."


    Though he didn''t dismiss Flynn outright, the way that Snape shuffled around the papers at his desk, as if he had spontaneously forgotten about Flynn''s existence made it clear that he had nothing more to say. Flynn waited two seconds for Snape to stop him, before he turned around and walked out of the dungeons without another word.


    Even after not going down to breakfast that morning and having some of his reserves being knocked out by the troll yesterday, Flynn still had enough food in his pockets for a decent lunch. Chewing on a piece of pulverised chicken, and ignoring the texture in favour of the taste, Flynn walked towards the library for the first time.


    When he had a book thrown directly at his head almost immediately after stepping foot into the library, he dodged the flying object and shot a glare towards the old woman that was glaring down at him from her desk. When she pointed at the sign beside her, aggressively tapping the rule of "No eating in the library," Flynn glared at her and shoved the rest of the chicken that he had in his hands into his mouth, and patted his hands against his robes.


    Though the librarian continued to glare at him with a look that promised murder, Flynn walked up to the desk and handed her the note that Snape had given him.


    She snatched it out of his hands and though it almost felt like she was keeping one eye on him while the other scanned the note, she frowned and practically threw the note back at his face.


    "If I see one crumb in my library," the librarian said. "They''ll have to send me to azkaban for what I''ll do to you."


    Though Flynn had no idea what azkaban was, he couldn''t help but admire the balls on the old bitch.


    After being given a set of instructions on how to find the three books that were likely vague on purpose, Flynn delved deeper into the common area of the library, hoping to find any hint of the books on potions and curses before venturing into the supposedly dangerous section.


    He almost cursed out loud when he almost bumped into a bushy-haired student, but held his tongue in hopes that she wouldn''t notice him. Unfortunately, his attempts went unrewarded as Hermione''s eyes widened in recognition.


    "You!" she whispered sharply. "You weren''t in the infirmary this morning!"


    Flynn glared down at her, but though it was enough to make her flinch, it didn''t seem like it was enough to make her turn away.


    "Yeah?" Flynn said. "So what?"


    Hermione''s eyes widened, and she held a finger to her lips as she shushed Flynn.


    "You need to be quiet in the library," Hermione said, despite her whispers being nearly louder than Flynn''s regular voice. "We''ll get in trouble."


    Flynn glared down at Hermione, but with no reply in mind, he turned around and started to walk away.


    "Wait!" Hermione whispered, grabbing his arm before he could get too far.


    Flynn turned around and glared at her, shaking his arm from her grip. Though Hermione winced, and had the decency to look slightly apologetic for grabbing him, she looked up at him.


    "I''m sorry," she said. "I just wanted to say thank you. For saving me."


    Flynn glared down at her, but found that he couldn''t summon any heat behind it.


    "Don''t expect me to save you again," Flynn said, ignoring the quick shush that earned from Hermione. "Next time, keep your ears open before you get trapped in a washroom with something as loud as that. I have no idea how you didn''t notice it."


    Hermione winced at that, and a flash of hurt passed through her eyes. Seeing the moment of internal turmoil as an opportunity to leave, Flynn started to walk away, but Hermione spoke again.


    "Wait," she whispered, though she didn''t grab him this time.


    "The fuck do you want now?" Flynn grumbled.


    Though Hermione seemed somewhat put off by the language, she still stuck out her hand in what looked like a stiff offer of a handshake.


    "I also wanted to apologize for my behaviour when we first met," she said, giving him a stiff smile. "I thought you were making fun of me by giving me a fake name, not that your name isn''t lovely, mind you. But I suppose I should''ve believed you were telling the truth. I was horribly rude to you, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would forgive me for it. I know I got off on the wrong foot with you, and I would be very glad if I could make amends and be your friend."


    Flynn stared down at Hermione, glancing between her face and the extended hand. After a few seconds passed without a response, her already stiff smile started to get more and more strained before Flynn frowned.


    "I don''t do friends," he said, before turned around.


    "What?" Hermione said, as he walked away.


    Though Hermione remained frozen for a few seconds, as Flynn scanned the bookshelves for the books that Snape sent him for, he heard the patter of hurried steps soon afterwards and glanced back at a confused looking Hermione, who still had her hand up in the air as if she was still expecting a handshake.


    She kept her distance from him, staying a few steps away, but didn''t seem to know what she even wanted from him, as her eyes darted from Flynn''s face, to his hands, to the bookshelves he was scanning through, to her own hands and feet.


    With her being otherwise quiet, Flynn ignored her as best as he could as he scanned the shelves, finally landing on A Theory of Potions and pulling it out.


    "Oh, A Theory of Potions," Hermione said. "That''s an interesting one. It''s a lot different from our textbooks, since it doesn''t actually focus on teaching recipes, but rather the theory behind the preparation of the ingredients and how they affect the strength and effects of the potions."


    Flynn ignored her and walked over to the next general section that the librarian had told him about, scanning the shelves until he found Curses and Countercurses.


    "Oh, it''s been a while since I''ve read that one," Hermione said, with her hand still raised and ready for a handshake. "Maybe I should read it again, even if it is difficult to practise a lot of the spells listed without a proper environment. A lot of the curses there only affect live targets, and of course you can''t practise countercurses without a partner. It''s a shame that Professor Quirrel isn''t giving us any opportunities for practical applications of Defense Against the Dark Arts in his class, though I suppose he is a Professor for a reason. He must know what he''s doing."


    Flynn ignored her as he stuffed the two books under his arm and headed towards the restricted section of the library.


    "What are you doing, Flintstone?" Hermione hissed, once she seemed to realise where Flynn was headed. "That''s the restricted section. We''re not allowed in there unless we get special permission."


    Flynn waved the note he had from Snape casually at Hermione, not caring if she could see it properly, as he stepped into the restricted section. Thankfully, Hermione didn''t follow him, stopping at the black line that marked the edges of the common area, like she was being blocked by a physical barrier.


    It didn''t take long for Flynn to find the book he was looking for, given that it was right at the edge of the restricted section. From the ominous feeling and the the distinctly inhuman moaning that he could faintly hear from the dark corridors further into the restricted section, he got the sense that this section of the library was organised in a way that put the more dangerous books further in the back.


    Shaking off the ominous feeling that settled over him, Flynn turned back around and exited the restricted section, pointedly avoiding the gaze of a very nervous Hermione who was pacing back and forth in front of the entrance.


    "It''s almost time for classes to start again, Flintstone," Hermione said, nervously glancing at the large clock that hung in the center of the library. "We have to start going to Charms soon, or we''ll be late. Is that A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells?"


    Flynn glared down at Hermione, though she didn''t seem to notice as all of her nervous energy seemed to melt away almost instantly as she stared at the book that Flynn was carrying, as if hypnotised by the sight. With the momentary silence, Flynn glanced up at the clock and saw that there were still fifteen minutes before the first afternoon class started, not that it mattered to him.


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    "I don''t have class," Flynn said, rearranging his books so that the Potions book covered the Spellcrafting book.


    The effect was instant, as Hermione seemed to snap out of a trance to frown up at Flynn, though her eyes continued to occasionally dart towards the covered spellcrafting book.


    "That''s not true," Hermione said. "Slytherins and Gryffindors have Charms together."


    "I don''t have class today," Flynn said. "I''m excused."


    "Why would-" Hermione started to say, before her mouth snapped closed and she looked away suddenly. Her eyes darted back and forth before they eventually settled down.


    "I forgot to ask. Are you okay?" she asked.


    "I''m fine," Flynn said.


    "But you''re not well enough to attend class?" Hermione asked.


    "I''m taking a day off," Flynn answered bluntly.


    Hermione frowned, but glanced at the clock, wincing when she saw that there were fourteen minutes before class started. She bit her lip nervously, and turned to Flynn.


    "You''re sure you''re fine?" Hermione said.


    "That''s what I said," Flynn said.


    "It''s just, if you''re missing class it must be very serious," Hermione said, though her eyes continued to dart towards the clock.


    "I''m fine," Flynn repeated, with an annoyed huff.


    "Alright, then," Hermione said, inching hesitantly towards the exit. "But be careful, okay?"


    Flynn rolled her eyes and said nothing, but Hermione didn''t notice as she had already started to walk as quickly as she could towards the exit, without actually running. Flynn glanced at the clock, which said that there were still fourteen minutes before classes started, while the Charms classroom was only a five minute walk away.


    Flynn let out a sigh of relief at the sudden peace and quiet that washed over him at Hermione''s absence, but didn''t wait long before making sure his books were secured under his arm and headed out of the library.


    Though he had to dodge another book to the head from the librarian, before she screamed at him about checking the books out, she didn''t give him much trouble after he waved Snape''s note at her.


    Before she wrote out a note for the books'' due dates and handed it to him, she grabbed the nearest book to her and gave it a delicate sniff before pushing it forward.


    "If I smell a hint of chicken on any of these books," she said. "I''m murdering you."


    Grateful that someone in the castle was finally speaking in a language he could understand, he nodded at the librarian and noted the plaque on her desk that had the name "Irma Pince" on it, before heading out.


    Heading over to one of the abandoned classrooms that he''d made into his safehouses, he sat down and started to read.


    Though he had Snape''s implied permission to read the texts, with how he''d been given the entire afternoon alone with them before he was supposed to deliver them to Snape, Flynn opened up the Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells, since he had no guarantee that Snape would give him access to a restricted book again.


    The text was a complicated one, and even with an entire afternoon to read through it, Flynn wasn''t able to get any closer to even begin understanding what went into creating a unique spell of his own making, Before the book even began to talk about spellcrafting, at least a third of the book seemed to be dedicated to making sure that the reader understood what went into spell casting as a whole.


    Though even that section was complicated enough that Flynn had trouble following along, the beginning was easier to follow because he''d already been taught something similar in Flitwick''s lesson on the knockback jinx, though there were some differences in the lessons.


    While Flitwick had told Flynn that an important part of casting a spell was the intent that went behind it, the book seemed to argue that it was the only thing that mattered, and that the wand movements and incantations were auxiliary to the casting of a spell. The book argued that while the wand movements and incantations were still important in refining the effects of a spell into something that was recreatable and precise, rather than a part of the foundation of the spell, which was why wandless and silent casting could even exist in the first place.


    The book explained that while there was a difference between a spell that was both wandless and silent, and a bout of accidental magic that might be unleashed by a child in an emotional moment, the difference between the two wasn''t as vast as one might think. The only difference was the discipline of the caster.


    The wand movements and incantations served to focus the discipline of the caster for the moment that they would cast the spell, by giving them a method to briefly enter an almost trance-like state of mind, where they know exactly what they want to achieve with their otherwise uncontrolled magic, but the method of entering this state is theoretically very flexible.


    There were a few "methods" of focusing a spell that were listed in the book, with examples of the wandwork that was used in most of europe and north america, the writing and using of talismans in asia, and the use of chants and ritualistic tattoos in africa, but that was about as far as he was able to read before it got too close to the end of the last class. Not wanting to give Snape a reason to never send him out on another "errand" like this, he made his way towards the dungeons, arriving there a few minutes before the bell signalled the end of the last class of the day.


    Flynn stood out of the way as a group of older Ravenclaws and Gryffindors left the class, chattering about what they planned to do with the rest of their evening, sticking close to the walls so he wouldn''t be noticed, before walking into the classroom right after the last student walked out.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Snape said, without looking up the papers he was organising on his desk. "I trust that you''ve brought me what I asked for?"


    "I got them here," Flynn said, reaching into the sleeves of his robes and pulling the books out.


    Snape didn''t react immediately, still not bothering to even look at Flynn as he cotninued to read through the papers he had in his hands. Almost a minute passed as Flynn held the books in the air, not seeing a spot on Snape''s desk that was free enough of clutter to put the books down on, but eventually Snape looked up at Flynn and immediately his face twisted into a sour frown.


    "Ah yes," he said. "The Slytherin first-years share a class with the Gryffindors, don''t you? It seems that the existence of some of my students must have slipped my mind in a moment of delusion."


    Snape shook his head, while Flynn kept his face neutral so his confusion wouldn''t show in the face of Snape''s sudden bout of annoyance.


    "Put those books away," Snape said, shaking his head. "I had planned to store them here in this classroom, but I am unfortunately reminded that certain students are clumsy in ways that I could never imagine, and I''m not willing to risk angering Madam Pince if I can help it. No, I cannot store them in this classroom."


    Flynn almost wanted to roll his eyes with how blatantly obvious Snape was being. Though he felt grateful, having the obvious hint repeated to him made him feel slightly patronised, but he supposed that Snape probably had no reason to assume he wasn''t an idiot.


    A flash of annoyance ran through him when he suddenly remembered how he had acted a few years back, when Jones had demanded that Flynn should help clean his gym and get rid of some of the stale food in his kitchen in "compensation" for trying to pickpocket him. It had taken a punch to the head and Jones physically dragging him to his kitchen and throwing a plate of old spaghetti at him for him to realise that the old man was trying to do him a favour.


    "I assume you won''t be storing them in your office either, for some reason," Flynn said.


    "No, I shall not," Snape said, with a glare. "And for your cheek, you will be given the task of keeping those books safe until I require them. I will not hear any complaint from you."


    Once again, Flynn had to fight the temptation to roll his eyes and the annoyance at the idea that his younger self might not have understood what Snape was saying, even at this point.


    "Fine," Flynn said. "I''ll keep your stupid books safe."


    "You do that," Snape said, looking back down at his papers and casually waving Flynn away. "Now leave me be. I am a very busy man."


    Flynn left the dungeons, with his books under his robes, though he didn''t dare put them in his large pockets or his bag and risk ruining them with the bits of food that lined his pockets.


    Clutching the books against his chest, he avoided the other students wandering the halls as best as he could, while heading towards his next destination.


    Though a small part of him wanted to go back to one of the abandoned classrooms that he''d discovered, to continue reading, but with how complicated the text was he doubted that there was no benefit to trying to rush through the book needlessly. Another part of him also entertained the idea of storing the books away in a safe place so he could wash his clothes in the shower like he usually did, but the books weren''t particularly heavy enough that he couldn''t just carry them around for a bit longer.


    Besides, after living for two months with pockets full of spare food, Flynn felt strangely vulnerable without emergency rations on hand. Though he frowned at the realisation at how spoiled he had become after only a few months of not having to scrounge for food on the streets, he still headed towards the Great Hall, not willing to give up a meal for something as stupid as pride.


    Though he wasn''t particularly hungry, he knew that most of the students preferred to eat dinner later on in the evening, and that the Great Hall would probably be empty enough that he wouldn''t have to watch his back while eating.


    Not needing any more internal justification, Flynn headed towards the Great Hall, and was just about to sit down at the end of the Slytherin table, when Lily stepped in front of him.


    Flynn readied a preemptive sigh, and braced himself for the barrage of conversation that the small girl would inevitably launch at him, but after a moment of silence passed, he realised with some amount of confusion that she was simply staring up at him with her face devoid of the usual smile that was permanently pasted on it.


    He said nothing, waiting awkwardly for her to break the silence, but she never did. Lily reached out to grab Flynn''s arm, pulling him towards the direction of the Hufflepuff table. He let himself be led along, and sat down beside her.


    Though a few plates immediately floated in their direction, they hovered awkwardly at a distance, seemingly unsure of whether they should approach or not in the awkward silence.


    Lily stared blankly forward, with her hand still clasped tight around Flynn''s arm.


    "There was a troll on the loose yesterday," she said. "Professor Quirrel made a big fuss about it."


    "Yeah," Flynn replied. "I''m aware."


    "They didn''t let me go look for you," she said. "Said it would be dangerous."


    "It would''ve been," Flynn said.


    "You weren''t in the infirmary," she said. "Madam Pomfrey told me you were fine, but you can be a very stupid boy sometimes. I thought that she might not have noticed a difference even if you hit your head and scrambled your brain."


    "Oh fuck off," Flynn said.


    Lily smiled slightly.


    "I was worried about you," she said.


    "I''m fine," Flynn grunted. "You really think a troll could beat me?"


    "Yes," Lily said, as she leaned sideways and pressed her temple aggressively against his arm. "You aren''t nearly as tough as you pretend to be, Flintstone Fredericton."


    "Fuck off," Flynn said. "Get off of me."


    "Nope," Lily said, turning around to wrap her arms completely around his arm and pressing her face against his shoulder, muffling her words. "This is punishment for making me worry. This arm is mine now."


    "I didn''t fucking ask you to fucking worry about me," Flynn said. "I don''t need your fucking pity."


    "Pity?" Lily asked, turning her head just enough that she could glance up at Flynn, though her words were still muffled. "You''re not that dumb, Flynn."


    "Fuck off," Flynn said.


    Lily didn''t respond with anything other than a noncommittal hum, and once he quickly realized that she wouldn''t let go of him, Flynn let out a grumble and started to grab some plates out of the air and started to shove some food into his pockets.


    After a few minutes of silence, Flynn heard a soft snoring coming from beside him and saw that despite her tight grip on his arm, Lily had fallen asleep.


    Though Flynn wanted nothing more than to shake her awake and leave, as more students started to file into the Great Hall for dinner, he decided that Lily would end up being annoying if he shook her awake, especially since he expected that she would make some inane argument that she had stayed up all night worrying about him for some stupid reason.


    So despite the undeniable fact that he absolutely hated the way that Lily snoozed gently on his arm, and that the general idea that she was stupid enough to trust him enough to fall asleep on him annoyed him on principle, he remained as still as he could in order to not wake her up.


    Again, purely because she would be annoying if he did.


    As more Hufflepuff students sat down around them, Flynn shot a few glares towards the ones that started cooing in his directions, silently promising a slow and painful death towards each of them, and grimacing when most of them didn''t seem to get the message and continued to smile at him.


    Flynn eventually stopped trying and glared down at Lily instead, silently vowing that he would pay her back for this humiliation.


    She didn''t seem to get the message, as she continued to peacefully sleep against his arm.

 1.11 Up until Christmas

    For about two weeks, Flynn couldn''t help but think that he was getting sick. It had been a long time since he''d gotten sick to the point where he was bedridden, but getting more minor stomachaches and colds wasn''t an uncommon occurrence for Flynn, given how often he ate bad food and slept with thin blankets.


    Despite that, Flynn couldn''t help but think that this bout of sickness felt a bit strange. He didn''t necessarily feel horrible, but he felt sluggish and slightly more tired all the time, and everything required just a bit more effort than he was used to.


    With how novel the feeling was, he worried for a moment whether his current affliction was being caused by something magical until Lily made a random comment one day that made him think otherwise.


    "You''re getting a bit pudgy. It''s cute."


    Within the hour, he found himself standing at Hagrid''s door, knocking on it as Fang howled from inside. He could hear Hagrid''s grumbled cursing before the door opened and Fang immediately stopped barking once he saw that Flynn was alone, and laid down with a disappointed grumble.


    "Flynn?" Hagrid asked. "What are ye doin here?"


    Flynn wasn''t sure himself and he frowned when he realised this, but he still tried to piece together a general train of thought that might have led him to coming to Hagrid''s hut.


    "I''m fat," he said.


    "Nuthin wrong with that," Hagrid said. "I''ve always been a big lad meself. ''Sides, you''re not quite fat. Pudgy maybe."


    "Shut up," Flynn snapped.


    "A''right," Hagrid replied.


    Shaking off Hagrid''s interruption, Flynn gathered his thoughts once more, slowly trying to figure out why he was there in the first place.


    "I''m getting fat," Flynn said, glaring at Hagrid before the large man could even think about arguing. "I feel sluggish and tired, and I''m going to fix that."


    Flynn frowned when he realised that even though what he said was true, it didn''t explain why he was standing in front of Hagrid right now.


    "I don''t give a shit about what you were like as a kid, Hagrid," Flynn said, slowly piecing his thoughts together as he went. "But I''ve seen you lift shit now. You''re probably the strongest person I know, and definitely the strongest person in this castle. You work out. Don''t you dare fucking lie to me and say you don''t."


    Hagrid stared down at Flynn, with a blank look on his face.


    "Help me train," Flynn said. "I''d do it myself, but I haven''t seen a single goddamn gym in this godforsaken place."


    Without anything else to say, Flynn simply glared up at Hagrid until the large man scratched awkwardly at his head.


    "I don''t know how te tell ye this, Flynn," Hagrid said. "But I don''t really do much other than my groundskeeper duties nowadays."


    "Then I''ll do that," Flynn said, without even thinking. "Let me help you with your work. I won''t even ask for a cut, I just can''t stand feeling so fucking weak."


    Hagrid blinked a few times.


    "Ye want te help me with my job?" he asked.


    "Are you fucking deaf?" Flynn asked.


    Hagrid blinked a few more times and stuck a massive pinky in his ear, as if he thought that something was blocking it. He seemed to consider the offer, and eventually turned away with a bashful expression that didn''t suit someone with his size.


    "No, no," Hagrid said, scratching at his face. "I can''t ask a firs'' year te help me out. You''re already so busy with school, aren''t ye?"


    "You think I''m doing this for your sake?" Flynn growled. "I''m literally asking you if I can help you out, you dumb bastard."


    Hagrid turned further away, and coughed into his fist. Off in the corner of his hut, Fang let out a loud yawn and rolled over onto his back.


    "Well, I s''ppose I can''t turn you away if yer so insistent," Hagrid said. "I''ll have te talk to Dumbledore, see if I can get ye some special privileges in exchange fer yer help. I''m not really sure I can promise anything though. I''ve never had anyone ask if they could help little ole me before."


    Flynn glared at Hagrid, but though the large man didn''t seem to notice it, Flynn didn''t bother to speak up. It seemed that regardless of Hagrid''s misunderstandings, he had tentatively accepted Flynn''s request, and he didn''t want to say anything that might lead to him changing his mind.


    After tagging along with Hagrid as he did his groundskeeper''s duties, Flynn found himself being annoyed by how weak he had gotten during his time at Hogwarts, and even more annoyed by the fact that he hadn''t noticed until now. Even with Hagrid only taking him along to do basic tasks, like tending to the Hogwarts gardens and patrolling the school grounds, it was difficult to follow along with how Hagrid''s stride was more than the double the length of his. Flynn ended up jogging beside Hagrid for nearly an hour straight, just going from place to place, before Hagrid noticed and offered to slow down for him. Of course, Flynn told Hagrid to fuck off, and after five more times Hagrid finally stopped offering.


    It took a few days for Hagrid to talk to Dumbledore about Flynn''s unofficial position as the groundskeeper''s student aide, and though Hagrid morosely told Flynn that he wasn''t able to get any special privileges for helping him out, Dumbledore had agreed to make the position a little more formal, which would allow Flynn to accompany Hagrid into the Forbidden forest and bypass curfew hours if helping out with Hagrid''s groundskeeper''s duties kept him working into the night.


    Even with this new permission, Hagrid didn''t venture into the Forbidden Forest too often, and it took a few more days before Hagrid had any reason to call Flynn over to accompany him into the forest.


    "There''s a new herd of hippogriffs that''ve been tracked to the Forbidden Forest," Hagrid explained gruffly, as he handed Flynn a large backpack.


    Flynn tried not to let any strain show on his face when he took the pack, not expecting how heavy it would be. As he put the backpack on, the hard edges of whatever was inside it dug into his back, and he had to twist and turn his body to try and adjust the contents to be more comfortable.


    "And what are we doing about it?" Flynn asked, eyeing the large crossbow that Hagrid slung over his shoulder. "Are we hunting them?"


    "What? No," Hagrid said, with a small amount of alarm in his voice. "Beautiful creatures they are. Ye couldn''t pay me to hunt em. This here''s just for scaring off any trouble we might come across on the way there, and maybe trying to get some grub fer ourselves."


    "We''re going to be gone for that long?" Flynn asked, wondering if Hagrid had timed the request on a Saturday morning for a reason.


    "Not sure," Hagrid said, with a shrug. "Depends if the forest creatures want to cause trouble fer us. We could be back by the evening, but ye might have to miss a few classes if we aren''t lucky. Ye ever been camping?"


    "Something like that," Flynn said, with a shrug of his own.


    "Good. Hopefully, it doesn''t come down te that, but it doesn''t hurt to be prepared," Hagrid said.


    "So what are we doing then?" Flynn asked.


    "We''re not huntin them, that''s fer sure," Hagrid said, with a huff. "They''re newcomers to the Forest, so we''re just checking up on them te make sure they''re set up alright, and te make sure they haven''t made a mess of things with their arrival. I don''t interact with them much, with them being a little iffy about outsiders still, but I figure if I show them my face every now and then, they''ll get used to the idea of interacting with humans again. Professor Kettleburn''s been hopin'' to introduce them te his class when the hippogriffs will let him and it might be a few years before they''re ready, but I''m hoping that if they see you, they''ll get used to the idea of interacting with younger humans in a year or two."


    Flynn nodded, deciding that what Hagrid had said made enough sense to go along with it.


    "Alright," he said. "Let''s go then."


    Hagrid nodded back, but didn''t move. When he continued to stare at Flynn, Flynn frowned back at him until Hagrid finally spoke up.


    "Yer a Muggleborn, right?" Hagrid asked.


    "Yeah," Flynn said. "Got a problem with that?"


    "Not at all," Hagrid said. "Some of the best of us are Muggleborn. I was just wonderin why you aren''t more curious about what a hippogriff is."


    Flynn shrugged. "I''m gonna see them soon enough, right?" he asked. "Figured it was pointless to ask."


    Hagrid let out a quiet hum.


    "Tha''s fair," he said.


    The problem of trying to keep up with Hagrid''s long stride was less of an issue in the Forest, since Hagrid had to be a lot more careful about navigating through the dense forest, but while Flynn didn''t have to jog to keep up with Hagrid anymore, walking across the uneven forest floor with his backpack weighing him down so heavily was much more troublesome than jogging with no weight.


    Even so, Flynn refused to complain as he kept pace with Hagrid, heeding the giant man''s warning and sticking close by him so he wouldn''t get lost.


    Every few hours, they would stop to take a short break for water and food, and when Flynn took out one of Hagrid''s rock cakes from his robes that he''d pilfered from his hut a few days prior, Hagrid''s eyes lit up in amusement, but he said nothing. Flynn ended up chewing through two of the three rock cakes that he had hidden away in his pockets in the first two breaks, but on the third break of the day, he pulled out a chicken sandwich that the Hogwarts plates had prepared for him.


    "Oh," Hagrid said, with his hand halfway out of his own pocket. "Ye brought yer own food?"


    "Always," Flynn grunted.


    "Smart lad," Hagrid replied, as he took out a whole rotisserie chicken from his own pocket. Flynn watched as Hagrid handled it with a surprising amount of delicacy, given how the bird was barely larger than the size of his fist. Hagrid ripped a drumstick off the chicken and held it out towards Flynn.


    "My pa used to have a saying," Hagrid said. "Food tastes better if ye''ve shared a bit of it with someone else. ''Sides, we''re makin'' good pace so we''ll push to get straight to the herd without any more breaks after this. Ye could use the energy."


    Though Flynn had more food in his own pockets, the fact that they could possibly be out in the wilderness for a while made any bit of food that much more valuable. Flynn grabbed the offered drumstick, and nodded appreciatively towards Hagrid, though his eyes narrowed right after.


    "You''re not expecting me to share my food with you, are you?" Flynn asked.


    Hagrid chuckled as he shook his head. "I''d appreciate the sentiment, but not much else. If I expected ye te share yer food because I was hungry, you''d have to be packin a whole kitchen in there to fill this thing up," he said, slapping his gut. "Eat yer food. We''ve got more walkin ahead of us."


    Flynn still narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him until Hagrid opened his mouth wide and bit through half of the rotisserie chicken in one bite, making Flynn wince at the sound of teeth crushing loudly through bones. After Hagrid chewed a few times and swallowed his first bite, he popped the rest of the chicken into his mouth and ate the second half as fast as he did the first, right before pulling another rotisserie chicken from his pockets and repeating the process.


    Flynn shrugged to himself and decided to focus on his own food, not wanting to waste time by pointlessly watching Hagrid eat his food.


    After they finished their food, they drank tea to help with their digestion and rested for another ten minutes before heading off once more.


    Like Hagrid had promised, they continued to walk for several more hours before they found themselves in a large clearing with a small lake in the centre of it. It wasn''t difficult to see a large pack of four-legged creatures in the distance, and though he couldn''t see any other identifying features other than their wings, from the way that Hagrid held out a hand to signal for him to stop, he assumed that they had found their hippogriff herd.


    "We''ll stay here fer now," Hagrid said, taking off his backpack and setting it onto the floor. "They''ve got good eyesight, and good hearing, so they''ve definitely noticed us even if they may not be actin like it. Quite proud creatures they are, so they won''t like it if we approach without an invitation."


    Flynn set his own backpack down, and though he flinched when Hagrid started to rifle through it, he reminded himself that Hagrid wasn''t trying to steal from him, and that it was his stuff in the first place. That didn''t stop Flynn from frowning at what Hagrid pulled out of the backpack.


    "I was carrying cookware?" Flynn asked.


    "Ye were," Hagrid said, raising an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with that?"


    "Couldn''t you have at least packed stuff that wasn''t cast iron?" Flynn grumbled. "That shit was fucking heavy."


    "I guess I could''ve," Hagrid said with a frown. "But didn''t ye wan'' te train yer body? I figured this would be a good way te do it."


    Flynn frowned, though he realized that there wasn''t anything he could say in response.


    "I could carry yer pack on the way back, if it was too heavy fer ye," Hagrid said sheepishly. "Wouldn''t be too much trouble fer me."


    "Fuck off," Flynn snapped, feeling his face grow hot from annoyance. "I''m carrying it back."


    Hagrid excused himself for a moment, telling Flynn to watch the cookware and the rest of the supplies, while he wandered back into the woods. Flynn busied himself with eating more food from his pockets, until Hagrid returned with a few dead rabbits in one hand, and a bundle of firewood under his other arm. Tossing the firewood down in a vague pile, he took a knife out from his pocket and started skinning one of the rabbits.


    "Ye know how te start a fire?" Hagrid asked.


    "Probably," Flynn said.


    Though he''d never actually made a bonfire before, he figured it wouldn''t be too difficult, especially since he had magic now. After bunching the firewood together, Flynn pulled out his wand and pointed it at the pile.


    "Incendio," he said, as a small fireball burst from his wand.


    Though the firewood didn''t actually catch fire immediately like he had hoped, with the fireball simply burning through the smaller twigs and incinerating them, a few of the dried leaved in the pile ignited, flashing with fire for a moment and burning quickly. Flynn grabbed another pile of leaves and threw them at the fire, and though only a small burst of fire erupted from it, a few of the branches around it caught fire easily enough.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Flynn poked around the fire, trying his best to cultivate it without knowing exactly what he should be doing. Behind him, Hagrid started humming a song that he didn''t recognize, but he could still confidently say was off tune and off beat.


    Hagrid finished skinning all of the rabbits, and after setting up a rudimentary cooking stand over the fire, started to pan fry two of the rabbits. Once he was done, he took the pan off of the flame and set it down on the ground beside him, before grabbing the rest of the dead rabbits and walking forward.


    Though the hippogriffs in the distance had been idling around without acknowledging Flynn or Hagrid in the slightest, Flynn noticed that they all seemed to tense up at Hagrid''s movement, all freezing in their spots and staring directly at them. Flynn watched as Hagrid continued to walk forward with his head raised high, until he stopped, bowed, and set down the skinned rabbits neatly on the floor. Keeping his bow, Hagrid shuffled backwards until he made it back to his spot by the fire, reached down to grab both of the rabbits, and held one out to Flynn.


    "Ye don''t have to eat it all if you don''t want," Hagrid said. "But at least a few bites would be good. They still might not end up takin the rabbits, but if they see us eating them too, they''ll be less likely to think it''s poisoned."


    Flynn nodded, and grabbed the offered rabbit, cursing a bit when it was hotter than expected, but refusing to let it go. Wanting to get it out of his hands as soon as possible, he quickly bit down on it, holding it with his teeth to give his hands a break for a moment, before deciding that he could just bear the heat and scarf it down in a few bites.


    Hagrid beamed at him, and ate his rabbit in two bites.


    "We''ll have supper a little later, once we''re out of sight of the hippogriffs," Hagrid said. "Might make them suspicious if they see us eating something else."


    "Sure," Flynn said. "I''m not that hungry anyways."


    "Eh, we''ll have supper regardless," Hagrid said, though he looked up to the sky and frowned. "Might have to be soon, too. I''m not sure we''ll be able to make it back by tonight. Sorry ''bout that Flynn. Forgot to consider that it''s getting closer to winter. Longer nights."


    "Not like I was planning on doing anything else with my weekend," Flynn said.


    Despite the hippogriffs leaving their rabbit offerings untouched, Flynn and Hagrid left a few minutes later after having a small argument after Flynn caught Hagrid trying to sneak a frying pan into his bag. Flynn won the argument and managed to take back the pan, and despite immediately regretting it, with how sore his legs were, continued to shoot death glares at Hagrid whenever it seemed like he was about to offer to help.


    They stopped and started to set up their temporary camping spots earlier than Flynn would''ve expected, but after complete darkness fell over the forest about an hour later, he was grateful that he hadn''t argued against Hagrid''s judgement. They ate their food by the light of the fire and a single lantern that Hagrid had brought, and though he wanted to argue against Hagrid''s offer to keep watch for the whole night, Flynn struggled to fight the exhaustion that took over his body and simply crawled into his tent and fell asleep almost instantly.


    Flynn woke up at first light, and after a quick bathroom break, they headed off once more, making it back to the Hogwarts grounds before noon.


    Heading to Hagrid''s hut first to drop off Hagrid''s stuff, Flynn frowned when he saw a familiar girl bouncing towards him. Behind her, Sally walked towards them with Fang on a leash who looked torn between wanting to rush forward to greet his master and not wanting to pull against Sally too hard.


    "You''re back!" Lily said.


    "We are," Hagrid replied. "He didn''t cause you any trouble, did he?"


    "No, Fang was very polite," Lily replied. "How about Flynn? He didn''t cause you any trouble, did he, Hagrid?"


    "Oh no, Flynn was very polite too," Hagrid said with a tired nod, though his eyebrows furrowed immediately after he said it.


    "Really? That doesn''t sound like my Flynn. Are you sure you didn''t lose him? You know I''ll know if you replaced him with a new one."


    Flynn didn''t even bother to tell Lily exactly where she could fuck, as he dropped his backpack on Hagrid''s doorstep and walked towards the castle, wanting nothing more than the peace and quiet of a shower.


    ---


    "Try it again, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said. "But this time, speak quietly and thrust your wand with less force."


    Flynn nodded, glaring at the leather ball that Flitwick had prepared for him. Raising his wand towards the ball, Flynn spoke softly and thrust his wand out slowly, as if he were moving underwater. If he could attribute an emotion to it, Flynn might have thought that his magic felt lazy as it swirled slowly within him for a moment, lethargically gathering in his wand, though it showed none of the eagerness to be fired off like it usually did.


    "Flipendo," he muttered, rather than shouted.


    Flynn wasn''t sure if he imagined the flash of light that erupted from his wand being duller than usual in both intensity and colour, but the objective difference in the spell''s effects were a lot easier to notice. Though the leather ball still shot forward with a quiet bang, it rolled steadily on the floor instead of being launched violently in the air, and when it hit the far wall, it bounced gently off of it before quickly rolling to a stop.


    Despite the weak effect of the spell, or more likely because of it, Flitwick clapped his hands excitedly together.


    "Excellent work, Mr. Fredericton!" he shouted. "Five points to Slytherin for such a marvelous display."


    Despite the fact that Flynn didn''t care about the whole points system in the slightest, he couldn''t help but glare at Flitwick for the gesture.


    "Why are you rewarding me for successfully failing at a spell?" Flynn grumbled. "I don''t need your fucking pity points."


    "Language, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, more out of an automatic habit than anything else. "And you did not ''fail'' at casting the knockback jinx. Since your issues seem to stem mostly from your lack of control and precision, I had you cast your most proficient spell at a lower output to help give you an understanding on the basics of control. Though the knockback jinx is still a less precise spell by its nature, it doesn''t mean we can''t form the building blocks of control through it."


    "Big fucking deal," Flynn said. "So I''m at the starting line for something that everyone else can already do. That doesn''t deserve a fucking reward."


    "Language, and in my opinion, the fact that you arrived at this point is something to be commemorated," Flitwick said, with a smile. "As an educator, I value progress over excellence."


    "That''s fucking stupid," Flynn said.


    "I''ll have to disagree with you on that, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, shaking his head before lifting his wand to pull the leather ball back in front of Flynn. "But we''re not here to discuss philosophy. Repeat the exercise five more times, just so we''re confident that your last attempt wasn''t a fluke."


    Flynn glared at Flitwick, but did as he was told, repeating the process of firing a "soft" knockback jinx at the ball five more times. Though the strength in each attempt varied, Flynn was able to consistently control his spells enough that the ball never left the floor.


    Flitwick clapped after each attempt, but thankfully didn''t try giving him more points for it.


    "Wonderful, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said, waving his wand and causing the leather ball to vanish out of existence. "Now, without further ado, now that you''ve managed to grasp the basics of magical control, let''s test it out on a spell that''s a bit more oriented towards precision, shall we? It''s a very basic spell called the wand-lighting charm, and unlike the knockback jinx, this one is actually one that I''ll be teaching in my class. Don''t let the other students know."


    Though Flitwick gave Flynn a smile and a wink, Flynn only frowned back.


    "Why are you teaching me something new?" he asked. "I still can''t even do the levitation charm yet."


    Flitwick nodded before he started to speak, not at all bothered by the lack of reciprocated enthusiasm.


    "As with anything, there are many reasons that I am asking you to attempt a new spell," Flitwick said. "The first of which is because of the very reason you stated. You have yet to successfully replicate the levitation charm, and I''m afraid that may act as a mental block for you, and seeing as we have the whole rest of the year to surpass it, there''s no sense in rushing in and smashing our faces against the proverbial wall.


    "Secondly, the wand-lighting spell may be better suited for you than many other spells. While the knockback jinx and the fire-making spell that I''ve taught you may be loosely classified as spells that require more force and are instantaneous, the levitation charm may be considered one that requires more precision and has a sustained effect. The wand-lighting charm sits somewhere in the middle. The intent behind the spell is simple enough, to create light, but the caster must control their magic, and confine the effects to their wand and sustain it. If there is no control, the caster may simply emit sparks from the end of their wand instead, which is not quite the effect we''re looking for."


    When Flitwick stopped talking, giving Flynn a silent smile, Flynn nodded.


    "Alright," he said. "How do I do it, then?"


    The spell, despite Flitwick''s claims that it was one that required precision, had an even simpler incantation and wand movement than the knockback jinx. Flitwick demonstrated the spell a few times, before he gestured for Flynn to attempt the spell.


    Though he couldn''t help but feel a little nervous at the idea of attempting the new spell, he had never been one to run from a challenge. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a few seconds to feel his magic coursing through his body, before he extended it outwards, letting it flow into his wand, but calling it back before it could leave the wand in a spray of sparks.


    Feeling his magic circulating within him, he raised his wand like he would a torch.


    "Lumos," he said.


    Instantly, Flynn flinched at the intense light that erupted from his wand, but though he couldn''t look at it directly without hurting his eyes, he couldn''t help but grin as he looked around it.


    "Wonderful, Mr. Fredericton!" Flitwick shouted, raising his arm to cover his own eyes. "Now don''t let go. Sustain it for as long as you can. Make sure to take in how a sustained spell should feel."


    Flynn nodded, keeping his wand lit up, and though he wanted to stare directly at it to admire his own success, the light that shone from his wand was too intense to look at.


    Flitwick laughed, as if he noticed Flynn''s plight.


    "It is quite an impressive display," Flitwick said. "I''ll admit, a typical wand-lighting spell isn''t usually as bright as the one you''ve cast here, but like how you showcased your control of the knockback jinx, you could control the intensity of your wand-lighting spell so it wouldn''t blind you. But that''s something to consider later," he said, as he flicked his wand, summoning two pairs of sunglasses and holding one out towards Flynn. "For now, why don''t you use these to admire your work?"


    Flynn nodded appreciatively at Flitwick, and put on the sunglasses before turning to look at his wand.


    He frowned when he noticed how different his spell looked from Flitwick''s demonstrations. A moment later, he heard a confused hum from Flitwick.


    "How interesting," Flitwick said. "I''ve never seen such a thing before."


    Unlike Flitwick''s demonstration, where only the tip of his wand shone bright, like there was a lightbulb attached to the end of it, Flynn''s entire wand glowed with an intense white light. His frown deepened as he got the feeling that he was missing something, before he realized that it wasn''t just his wand that was glowing. It was difficult to tell, since it almost looked like the bright light was bouncing off of his fingers, but after a closer inspection it was obvious that the tips of Flynn''s fingers were emitting the same glow that the wand was.


    "I''ve never seen such a thing before," Flitwick muttered again.


    "Is it bad?" Flynn asked.


    "Not necessarily," Flitwick said. "Just¡­ strange."


    Flynn frowned, not knowing how to interpret the answer, but as the silence in the room stretched for too long to be comfortable, Flynn frowned and cut off his flow of magic, ending the spell. Behind him, Flitwick took off his sunglasses and blinked a few times, as if he had been suddenly and violently woken up from a nap.


    There was another long stretch of silence before Flitwick spoke up.


    "That was very strange," he said again, before frowning and shaking his head. "Though I will reiterate that it''s not necessarily a bad thing. Many wizards have their quirks when it comes to spellcasting, though I can''t imagine what may have caused that particular effect."


    "Do you think it affects my spellcasting?" Flynn asked. "Is that why I can''t cast a proper levitation charm?"


    "It''s possible, though again, I can''t be certain," Flitwick replied. "We would have to do some more testing and research to see how it affects you."


    "I have time," Flynn said, with a shrug.


    "I''ll admit that I may not have as much time as you do," Flitwick said. "Though I will try my best to clear up my schedule for this matter. Admittedly, I am also quite curious about what your quirk may be caused by on a professional level, even if it may prove to have no tangible effect on your spellcasting."


    After a brief talk on their schedules, Flitwick tentatively offered to try and increase the frequency of their after-curricular lessons, to which Flynn agreed. As their lesson came to a close, Flitwick had Flynn cast the wand-lighting spell a few more times to confirm that they hadn''t had a shared hallucination, and though Flynn''s fingers only seemed to glow when he cast the spell at a high intensity, Flynn''s fingers glowed enough times that they were certain that it was a recreateable effect.


    There wasn''t much time left before flitwick had to leave, but Flitwick dismissed Flynn with the promise that he would do some research on Flynn''s case before their next session.

 1.12 Christmas Break and a little beyond

    Like Halloween, Flynn didn''t really care much for the holidays, but when he realized that most of the student population would be leaving the castle, he started to feel the excitement that hung in the air around him start to infect him as well.


    Lily wouldn''t stop hounding him until Christmas came, constantly asking him whether he would be lonely over the break, and when she finally left with the other students, boarding the Hogwarts express to go back home, he let out a sigh of relief as a blanket of peace and quiet seemed to fall over the school.


    After only one day of being alone, however, Flynn started to find himself being incredibly bored. He wasn''t used to having so much free time, and quickly started to look for something to do.


    Though he visited Hagrid to see if he had any tasks for him to do, Hagrid apparently had a break of his own and would be leaving Hogwarts to enjoy the holidays outside of it. After promising Flynn that he would ask him to help take the Christmas trees out of the Great Hall near the end of the break, Hagrid wished him a Merry Christmas before he continued packing his clothes, whistling an off-key rendition of what sounded vaguely like Jingle Bells.


    Though Flynn already had an assigned set of spell drills from Flitwick, and he still had the books from Snape to read through, but after a certain time, the lack of variety started to get boring. Though he tried to stave off his boredom by asking McGonagall and Sprout for any extra tutoring, the two teachers seemed more surprised than anything by the request, and though they chided him gently for not taking the time to rest during the holidays, they seemed grateful for his eagerness to learn and both assigned him with some additional readings.


    For the first time ever, Flynn used the Christmas break to use the common room to study and practise his spells in rather than an abandoned classroom, since he was the only Slytherin student to have stayed behind for Christmas, a fact that Draco taunted him with without realizing that Flynn didn''t give half a shit about whatever fancy Christmas parties the "pureblooded society" got up to. From how Blaise was bitching about not wanting to go home, it didn''t seem like Flynn was missing out on much anyways.


    The common room was more luxurious than he was used to, and despite how soft the chairs were, he couldn''t find it in himself to be too comfortable with it. It was too open, and simultaneously too crowded with tall privacy chairs that he couldn''t see behind. Despite Flynn telling himself that he was the only one in the entire dormitory, he got annoyed by constantly having the feeling of wanting to watch his back, so he went back to the abandoned classrooms to study.


    On the twenty-fifth of December, as Flynn went into the Great Hall to pick up his food for the day, he swore loudly when something hit the top of his head.


    Pulling out his wand and glaring up at the only other person who was at the Great Hall this early, Snape raised a lazy eyebrow at him before drinking a sip of his tea and lifting his newspaper to pretend like he couldn''t see Flynn.


    Deciding that Snape hadn''t been the one to throw something at his head, Flynn looked around the room before he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. Looking up, Flynn glared up at an owl that glanced down at him with an indignant expression before flying off, only to be replaced by another owl that was clutching a small brown package in its talons.


    Being ready for it this time, Flynn was able to reach up and catch the package before it hit his head, frowning when he inspected it enough to see that it was addressed to him, along with the one that had already hit his head and nearly landed on a plate of eggs.


    Before Flynn could think to inspect them further, he noticed more owls flying into the Great Hall, bombarding him with three more packages before they seemed to stop.


    Keeping an eye on the window at the end of the Great Hall, he inspected the packages to confirm they were all addressed to him, sent by Liz, Lily, Hagrid, as well as Sally and Hermione of all people.


    From Liz, he got a thick sweater and a pair of warm sweatpants, but any appreciation he might''ve felt for the gift was immediately squashed by the letter she sent along with it, nagging at him about how he never bothered to send her any letters, and complaining that Jones was being more grouchy than usual, and that Tom was lonely without his favourite little buddy. Though he doubted the old bastard gave half a shit about him, and Tom only wanted someone to beat up to feed his own ego, he grumbled to himself and made a mental note to write back to Liz, or she would only get more annoying.


    From Lily, he got a letter that was long enough to rival Liz''s, ranting about her family and how annoying her father was being. After promising to give him a nice hug to make up for making him lonely over the Christmas break, she wished him a Merry Christmas and asked him to enjoy her gift. Flynn glared at the chocolates enclosed in the package, and even though he hated the idea of eating the entire box of sweets, he wasn''t one to waste food and he knew that Lily knew that. Vowing to get revenge on her, he took a tentative bite out of a small piece and was surprised to find that it wasn''t sweet at all, but rather, had a deep bitter taste to it that was actually somewhat pleasant.


    From Hagrid, he got a small bundle of crudely knitted wool that didn''t really resemble much of anything, along with a store bought hat and a note that mentioned that he always dressed so lightly and that he should wear a hat at least, but also apologised for his poor first attempts at knitting and hoped that the store bought hat would be good enough for him.


    From Sally, he got a small bag of pastries of something that looked like smaller versions of Hagrid''s rock cakes, and a storebought stock greeting card that simply wished him a Merry Christmas.


    From Hermione, he got two books, A Theory of Potions, and Curses and Countercurses, along with a note explaining that he shouldn''t be borrowing them from the library so much, since other students might want to check them out, though she apologised for being unable to buy a copy of A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells and explained that most first years usually didn''t have access to advanced texts like that, not that she was jealous or anything.


    Flynn put away all of his gifts, frowning when he could barely fit them all into his pockets until he decided just to put on Liz''s sweater and sweatpants, as well as both of Hagrid''s hats. It was almost uncomfortably warm, but until he could drop them off in a secure place, it would have to do.


    Flynn put away his new possessions soon after, frowning when he realised that for the first time in his life, he had enough personal possessions that he couldn''t carry his entire life on his back.


    He wasn''t sure what to think of it, but he made sure to secure them in the furthest abandoned classroom that he knew of, hiding it in the deepest crevices of the room where nobody would think to look.


    He ended up returning to that spot five more times that day, just to make sure all of his belongings were still there.


    It was a few days after Christmas that Flynn was taking a break from studying, roaming the castle halls to give his mind a break, when a sudden tingle ran down his spine for no apparent reason.


    Even though Flynn wasn''t a believer of superstition, he didn''t think that the "bad feelings" that he sometimes got would be classified as such. After a lifetime of having to deal with and avoid dangerous situations, he had come to learn to trust his gut whenever he felt like this, regardless of how little evidence there was to suggest that he was actually in danger.


    Not seeing any reason to ignore the feeling now, he kept his eyes forward to not give any warning to anybody that might''ve been following him that he had any idea that he was in any sort of danger, and continued to walk forward, though he kept his senses sharpened for any signs of an incoming attack.


    Nothing happened as he continued down the hall, but the feeling that he was being watched never went away.


    He eventually made his way to a small bathroom, but walked inside without closing the door completely. He walked towards the sink, turned on the tap, and walked back to the door, hiding behind it and drawing his wand.


    He waited there for what must have been fifteen minutes before he heard a set of barely audible footsteps approaching the door, so quiet that they were almost impossible to hear over the relatively quiet sound of the running tap.


    The footsteps hesitated partway into the doorway, but continued not too long after.


    Flynn tried not to be startled by the sight of the short wrinkly creature that walked inside as he stuck his wand into the back of its neck, making the creature let out a yelp of shock, flailing its arms around.


    "Hey!" Flynn shouted, pushing his wand deeper into its neck. "Don''t fucking move, or I''ll blow your fucking head off!"


    Immediately the creature stopped moving with its arms still raised in the air, as if it had been frozen mid-flail, though its bat-like ears continued to flop around after the sudden stop, as if they were made of rubber. Flynn tried not to be distracted by the sight, as he focused on circulating his magic within him, ready to release it at a moment''s notice.


    "Why were you following me?" he asked.


    The creature didn''t answer, still with its arms frozen in the air.


    Flynn glared at it, and pushed his wand into the creature''s neck.


    "Are you fucking deaf?" Flynn asked. "Answer me!"


    "Opie was just concerned, Master Hogwarts Student, sir!" the creature squeaked out immediately, though it kept its arms raised. "Opie saws Master Hogwarts Student going into the bathroom, but he didn''t come out, sir! Opie thinks that Master Hogwarts Student might be taking a bath, but then Opie remembers that Master Hogwarts Student is too big to be taking a bath in a sink, like Opie. Opie is small," it added after a short pause, as if Flynn needed the explanation.


    Flynn narrowed his eyes.


    "You were following me before I came in here," Flynn said. "Why?"


    "Opie?" the creature asked. "Oh yes, Opie follows Master Hogwarts Student."


    "I''m fucking aware," Flynn growled. "Why?"


    "Opie was curious about why Master Hogwarts Student doesn''t let the house elves wash his clothes," the creature said. "But Opie thinks that Opie would be too shy to ask, so Opie does not know why Opie follows if Opie does not actually want to ask Master Hogwarts Student."


    Flynn frowned as the sense of danger he felt quickly deflated, and though he didn''t let his guard down, he started to feel a little embarrassed about how tense he had been, only to figure out that he was only being followed around by a sentient hand puppet.


    "What the fuck are you talking about?" Flynn asked.


    "Opie does not know," Opie said. "Opie is sorry."


    Flynn let out a huff of a sigh, and drew back his wand so it wasn''t digging into Opie''s skin, though he didn''t lower it.


    "Listen close, okay?" Flynn said. "I don''t fucking appreciate people following me around like that. You''re going to answer my questions, and if I''m not happy with what I hear, I''m going to hurt you."


    "Okay," Opie said. "Opie will try Opie''s best to make Master Hogwarts Student happy."


    Flynn frowned, and though the creature seemed blissfully unaware of how it had failed its goals immediately, Flynn couldn''t tell much of anything with how it was still frozen with its back turned towards him.


    Slowly, with his wand still pointed directly at it, he moved around the creature until he was standing in front of it, with his wand pointed directly in between its eyes.


    Strangely enough, the creature didn''t react at all to the movement, with its wide eyes pointed forward as if it didn''t notice Flynn moving at all.


    "The fuck is wrong with you?" Flynn asked.


    "Opie does not know what Master Hogwarts Student means, but many things can be wrong with Opie if Master Hogwarts Student wishes it."


    Flynn frowned deeper when he saw that even though it was talking, its lips only moved slightly, like an amateur ventriloquist.


    "Why the fuck aren''t you moving your mouth properly?" Flynn asked.


    "Master Hogwarts student says not to move, but Master Hogwarts Student also says to answer him," Opie responded. "Opie does not know how to do both, but Opie tries Opie''s best."


    Flynn scowled, feeling an annoyance-induced headache already starting to affect him.


    "You can move your fucking mouth at least," Flynn said.


    "Oh thanks you," Opie said, moving its mouth.


    "You can move your eyes too. It''s fucking creepy when you''re staring blankly like that."


    "Opie does not wish to be creepy."


    "And put your fucking arms down. You look like a fucking spaz."


    "That is very kind of you, Master Hogwarts Student. Opie''s arms were getting tired."


    Flynn didn''t dare to sigh and risk taking his eyes off the weird creature, but he desperately wanted to, especially when he realised that he couldn''t even remember what he was going to ask the creature.


    "What was I asking you again?" Flynn asked, not bothering to try and threaten the creature anymore.


    "Master Hogwarts Student was asking Opie many things," Opie said. "Master Hogwarts Student asked why Opie was following Master Hogwarts Student, but Opie could not answer because Master Hogwarts Student told Opie to not move, but then Master Hogwarts Student-"


    "Shut up," Flynn said, raising his hand. "Nevermind. Forget I asked. Let me think for a second."


    Opie nodded, but didn''t say anything as Flynn frowned, still pointing his wand between Opie''s eyes as he sifted through the recent conversation in his mind, trying to remember if Opie had said anything that was remotely relevant.


    "What did you mean by house elves?" Flynn asked. "And why the hell would they wash my clothes?"


    Opie stared up at him for a few seconds, seeming to be deep in thought before eventually waving his hands around, miming something incomprehensible with his fingers.


    It took Flynn a few seconds to figure out what Opie was doing, and he let out a low groan of frustration.


    "You can talk now," Flynn said. "Whenever I tell you to shut up, I don''t mean you should shut up forever."


    "Thank yous, Master Hogwarts Student," Opie responded.


    "Don''t call me that."


    "Then what should Opie call Master, then?"


    "Flynn."


    "Then Opie shall call Master Flynn, Master Flynn."


    "Just Flynn."


    "The Opie shall call Master Just Flynn, Master Just Flynn."


    Flynn groaned, but deciding that it was good enough, he didn''t feel like it would be worth the headache to try and correct the creature.


    "Fine," he said. "Whatever. Just answer my questions."


    "Master Just Flynn asks Opie about what house elves is, and why house elves wash Master''s clothes in hell?"


    "Yeah, sure," Flynn said, not caring enough to deny the last bit.


    "Well, house elves is Opie, and Opie''s family," Opie said with a nod. "And house elves washes, and cleans, and cooks for all of Hogwarts, though Opie thinks Hogwarts is very nice, though Opie can think that Hogwarts is hell if Master Just Flynn wishes."


    Despite how vague Opie''s answer was, It wasn''t difficult to interpret. Though Flynn had just assumed the castle cleaned itself through some sort of magic, and that the other students just had some sort of magical washing machine that they used instead of manually washing their clothes in the shower like Flynn did, it seemed that these creatures were something akin to a gremlin cleaning force.


    Flynn frowned, not knowing exactly how he could even use this information before he realized that he had gotten somewhat lost in his own thoughts. Focusing on Opie again, he made sure to keep his wand pointed directly between its eyes.


    Though Opie didn''t even blink at the threat, its eyes seemed to dart nervously between Flynn''s face and its own feet.


    "Why are you acting like that?" Flynn asked.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "Oh it is nothing, Master Just Flynn," Opie said. "Opie just is curious about why Master Just Flynn doesn''t let the house elves wash his clothes, but Opie is also too shy to ask."


    Flynn had no idea whether it was just asking him the question in a roundabout way, or if it genuinely thought that it didn''t count unless it presented it in a question format.


    "I wash my own clothes," Flynn said. "I don''t need to explain shit."


    "Okay," Opie replied with a nod.


    Opie immediately stopped fidgeting in place, and simply looked up at Flynn, seemingly content with the answer to its question. Flynn glared down at it, wondering if its big eyes somehow couldn''t see the wand pointed directly at its face, before a thought occurred to him.


    "You make the food here?" Flynn asked.


    "Opie does, yes," Opie said, with a nod. "But Opie likes making eggs the most, and Master Just Flynn doesn''t take the eggs in his pockets. Itsy likes wrapping sandwiches and Itsy says that Master Just Flynn is Itsy''s favourite Master Hogwarts Student."


    Flynn frowned, not knowing what to think of the idea that these creatures had been responsible for feeding him for the past four months but any suspicion he might''ve felt was lessened by the fact that he wasn''t dead yet. He had trusted the school enough to gorge on the food without suspecting that it would kill him, so what difference did it make to know that the school had a gang of small wrinkly creatures to make it? The only thing that the food had done wrong to him so far, was that it had made him fat.


    Flynn kept his wand pointed at Opie''s head, and Opie continued to stare up at him. They remained like that for almost a minute before Flynn realised that he had no reason to continue standing around like this.


    "I''m leaving now," Flynn said, backing up to the bathroom door while keeping his wand still pointed at Opie''s head.


    "Okay, Master Just Flynn," Opie said.


    "Don''t follow me," Flynn said as he pulled the door open and stepped through the doorway.


    "Opie shall not," Opie replied seriously.


    Flynn paused in the doorway, wondering if there was anything to say, but eventually he just decided to let the silence rest, backing out of the bathroom as the door slowly closed on Opie, who remained unmoving.


    After the door shut closed, Flynn stared at it for a few seconds, as if expecting something to happen, but when nothing did, he walked away, still trying to process what had just happened.


    ---


    Overall, the rest of the Christmas break was long and boring, though he didn''t mind the change in pace much. Aside from studying and practising his spells, Flynn didn''t do much besides writing a letter back to Liz and helping Hagrid take the Christmas trees out of the Great Hall once the break came closer to an end, though he almost wanted to abandon him after Hagrid started to sniffle happily once he saw that Flynn was wearing the hat that he''d made for him.


    The rest of the students came back to Hogwarts a few days before classes started up again, and with the sudden increase in activity around the castle, Flynn did his best to stay away from it all, but somehow still got caught by Lily at some point.


    To his chagrin, she made good on her promise to give him a hug and wouldn''t let go when he tried to shake her off. For a whole day, he was subjected to having to listen to her rambling about what she did at home with her family. She promised to spend the next Christmas at the castle with him, especially since Christmas at home was a lot more boring than she expected since her father kept trying to teach her a complex spell over the break, until her mother took pity on her and hid her father''s wand away for the rest of the break, especially when she learned that the spell he was trying to teach her was a Love Potion Detection spell.


    As an aside, Lily mentioned that her father was very interested in meeting Flynn, and that she thought they would get along.


    Once night fell, and Flynn managed to slip away from Lily to head to sleep, he ran into Blaise right at the doors to the Slytherin dorms. After making sure that nobody was around to see, Blaise handed Flynn a new writing quill, telling him that he hated listening to the way that the subsidised Hogwarts quills sounded when they scratched against parchment, but making Flynn promise not to mention the gift to anyone else.


    And soon after, Christmas was over.


    ---


    After a short excursion into the Forbidden Forest, where Flynn helped Hagrid release a group of Kneazles back into the wild, after the Care of Magical Creatures Professor decided that it would be cruel to keep them in captivity for any longer than he had, Hagrid offered to let Flynn warm up at his hut before heading back inside and Flynn was eager to take the offer, with how much snow had gotten into his shoes.


    As usual, Fang barked at them as soon as they opened the door to the hut, but didn''t move from his spot under Sally''s arm. Sally glanced up at them when they entered, raising her hand in half a shy wave, before returning her attention to the textbook she had propped up against Fang''s back.


    Lily stood up from her position in front of the fireplace and waved at them.


    "How were the Kneazles?" she asked.


    "Majestic creatures they are," Hagrid said. "It''s a shame ye couldn''t tag along te see them."


    "It''s okay. I don''t think I would have been able to walk in all this snow. I''m not gigantic like you two," Lily said. "Besides, I''m more of a dog person."


    Fang''s ears perked up at the comment, and his mouth drooped in a dopey grin. Though Lily didn''t move from her spot, Sally dutifully scratched the back of Fang''s head in her stead.


    "Sorry I had ye girls locked up in here while I was gone," Hagrid mumbled as he grabbed a tall coat rack and positioned it closer to the fire before taking off his coat and hanging it to dry. "Had to keep the fire going all day, and didn''t want to risk the house burnin'' down. Must''ve been boring."


    "It''s fine, Hagrid," Lily said. "Fang''s always a great conversationalist, and the rock you have in the fire is pretty to look at. Why are you roasting a rock anyways?"


    Hagrid chuckled and shook his head.


    "Tha''s no rock," he said, almost reverently. "It''s a dragon egg. What I got there''s a Norwegian Ridgeback in the makin''. They''re rare, them."


    For the first time since he''d met her, Flynn raised an eyebrow when he noticed that Lily looked lost for words. With a stiff smile frozen on her face, she looked up at Hagrid with an expression that looked like she was struggling to understand what he had said.


    As Flynn took off his coat and kicked off his shoes and socks, placing them by the fire to dry, he walked around Lily to squat in front of the fire, hoping that the heat of the fireplace would help dry out his pants quicker.


    Hagrid didn''t seem to notice the sudden change in Lily''s demeanour, as he walked towards a small bookshelf at the other end of the room and rifled around a bit before pulling out a book titled, Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit. When he turned back, he seemed a little confused by how Lily was still frozen on the spot, but he carefully shuffled around her to squat down on the other side of the fire from Flynn and stoke the flames.


    "Wow, that''s really a dragon egg?" Sally asked, leaning forward curiously to get a closer look at it, though she sat pack down when Fang let out a low groan of protest.


    "It is," Hagrid said, with a giddiness that didn''t suit a man his size. "They''re rare ''nuff that most wizards''ll go their whole lives without seein'' one. Always dreamed of having one since I was a wee lad, but I never thought it would actually happen."


    Though the hut was filled with the sounds of Hagrid''s happy humming, with Lily still frozen in place, there was a rare absence of idle chatter that stretched across the room like a void.


    It took about three more minutes for Lily to break out of her frozen state, though when she turned to Hagrid, her smile was still stiff.


    "Hagrid?" she asked, more timidly than Flynn had ever heard from her. "Where did you get that egg?"


    "Won it," Hagrid said. "I was down in Hogsmeade a few nights ago and got into a game o'' cards with a stranger. I don'' win many card games if I''m bein honest, ''specially when I''ve been drinking. Mostly jus play for the fun of it, but I think he went easy on me. Almost like he wanted te get rid of it, te be honest."


    Immediately, some tension bled out from Lily''s body, her legs giving away slowly as she fell down beside Flynn and leaned against him. Flynn shot her an annoyed glance.


    "The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked.


    "N-nothing," Lily said. "Nothing''s wrong."


    It was the first time that Flynn had heard Lily stutter before, and the first time he''d heard her lie. He wasn''t surprised by how terrible she was at it.


    Whether he was too focused on his dragon egg, or if he was just too trusting to not pry any deeper into what Lily said, Hagrid continued to hum happily as he stoked the fires. Glancing back at Sally, it was obvious that she had noticed too, but though there she was wearing a concerned expression, she didn''t seem like she was going to say anything.


    Lily''s silence hung heavy in the air of Hagrid''s hut, and though Hagrid seemed to notice that something was wrong after a few minutes, he didn''t seem to be able to pinpoint the exact cause of it. Though Lily had pasted herself onto his arm, she never seemed to notice when he glared down at her, seeming to be too focused on frowning to herself to pay him any mind.


    Eventually, Flynn got annoyed enough by Lily''s attitude that he stood up, despite his pants still not being fully dried.


    "We''re leaving," he said, standing up abruptly, making Lily yelp in surprise as she was dragged along with him. She almost stumbled backwards into the fire as she struggled to find her footing, but Flynn caught her by the arm and glared at her.


    Lily gave him a sheepish look before turning away. For some reason that annoyed the hell out of him.


    "We''re leaving," he said again, pulling Lily along with him and pushing open Hagrid''s door.


    "Wait-" Hagrid said, before Flynn let the door shut behind him.


    Flynn marched forwards, ignoring Lily''s weak protests as he dragged her with him, until they got far enough from the hut that he was confident that Hagrid wouldn''t be able to hear anything they said. Turning around, he glared down at her.


    "Spit it out," he said.


    Lily stared up at him silently, with an expression of confused shock on her face. It was better the anxiety that plagued her back in Hagrid''s hut, but Flynn still wasn''t happy with it.


    "Spit. It. Out," he said, stressing each word with a harsh glare.


    "What are you talking about, Flynn?" Lily asked.


    "Don''t start that shit with me, Lily," Flynn said. "You may act like a dumbass, but I know you''ve got at least some brains under that blonde mop you call hair."


    "That''s very rude, Flynn," Lily said. "But I still don''t know what you''re talking about."


    "You''re hiding something," Flynn said, not knowing what he was about to say before he said it. "What? You think I''m a fucking pussy, or something?"


    Lily''s eyebrows furrowed in even deeper confusion.


    "You''re not making any sense, Flynn," she said.


    "Well, you''re not making much sense either," Flynn argued back. "You''re clearly scared of something, but you seem to think I''m not good enough to help you, which is frankly just insulting. I hate the idea that you think that I can''t handle whatever it is that you''re afraid of, so just spit it out."


    Lily looked up at him, not speaking as the confusion on her face slowly transformed into a mixture of bemusement and bewilderment.


    Flynn glared down at her until her lips cracked into a smile.


    For some reason it didn''t annoy him as much as it should.


    Lily let out a heavy sigh and leaned forward, slamming her head into his stomach.


    "You''re suuuuch a big dummy, Flynn," she said, her voice and head shaking with laughter.


    "What? You think you''re funny?" Flynn asked, even though he somehow couldn''t put much heat behind his words.


    Lily cackled into his stomach for a few long seconds, before she raised her head, revealing the small tears of laughter starting to form at the corners of her eyes.


    "My dad''s an auror," she said. "Over the Christmas break, he kept talking about how he caught a group of dragon smugglers that snuck into a dragon sanctuary and stole a bunch of eggs, but couldn''t track down one of them. I thought that maybe Hagrid was a bad guy, but now that I think about it, that was very silly of me, wasn''t it. Like a sweetheart Hagrid could ever do anything bad."


    Lily shook her head and laughed at the idea.


    "I was glad when Hagrid said that he didn''t actually steal the egg, but there''s still the problem of what to do now. I''m sure that Hagrid''s egg is the one that my dad''s looking for, but Hagrid seemed so happy with his dragon that I wasn''t sure what to do. I couldn''t bear to break his heart."


    "What do you think we should do, Flynn?" Lily asked, with a teasing grin and turned around to fall backwards against him. "Oh, I am so helpless and frail and need the help of a rough and tough boy to make my every decision for me. I can barely even walk for myself."


    "Get off me," Flynn mumbled, looking to the side and refusing to meet Lily''s gaze as she stared up and backwards at him.


    "Nope," Lily said. "You offered to help. Besides, you did drag me out here without even letting me grab my coat or my shoes."


    Flynn stared down instinctively, at the same time that he suddenly realised that his own feet were freezing, pressed bare against the snow.


    When he felt Lily shivering against him, he grumbled to himself and leaned down to pick her up. She let herself fall naturally into his arms, and grinned up at him.


    Flynn looked up to avoid her gaze, unable to meet it for some reason.


    "Shut up," he said.


    "I didn''t even say anything yet," Lily said.


    "Never speak to me again," he said.


    "Oh I know you don''t actually want that."


    Flynn brought Lily back to the hut, placing her in front of the fire as Hagrid fussed over them, scolding the both of them for going barefoot in the snow. Lily hummed happily as Hagrid handed her a mug of warm tea and threw a thick blanket over her head, but she still shivered as she sat in front of the fire. When she beckoned Flynn to come closer and sit by her side, he didn''t feel like he had the right to refuse, given how he was the one that had dragged her out into the snow in the first place.


    Flynn didn''t know if Lily really needed to keep leaning against him, long after their clothes and bodies had warmed back up, but he didn''t mention anything, as time went by.


    Sally excused herself to go back to the castle, since she needed to use the washroom and didn''t want to go to Hagrid''s outhouse, and Hagrid offered to go grab them some food from the Hogwarts kitchens, since they seemed too cold to move.


    Busying himself by occasionally stoking the fire, Lily sat by his side in silence, though unlike the anxious silence from before, she seemed quite content.


    "I don''t think I''ll tell my dad about the dragon egg," she said.


    Flynn didn''t say anything in response, but Lily continued anyway.


    "I couldn''t bear to see Hagrid being sad," Lily said. "And besides, my mom always said that little girls go through a rebellious phase against their dads, even though my dad keeps telling me that she''s a liar. He was being super annoying over Christmas, so maybe I''ll start early."


    Flynn didn''t say anything, but frowned at the smug grin that she was giving him.


    "What?" he asked.


    "Nothing."


    A few minutes later, Hagrid returned with as much food as he could carry, which ended up being way too much food for them, though Flynn used the opportunity to replenish his pockets with food, and fed whatever was leftover to Fang.


    It had been a while since Flynn had eaten dinner with anyone else, and he was surprised to find that it was quite nice.

 1.13 Norbert the Dragon

    A few weeks later, Flynn was at the Great Hall for breakfast when he spotted a large owl flying directly towards him. He shot the bird a sharp glare, only to have it returned in equal measure, before it swooped down and stole an entire omelette off his plate.


    Before Flynn could think to throw his fork at the bird, something hit his face with a gentle plap and fell into his lap. He frowned and unfolded the small folded note, recognizing Hagrid''s ham-fisted and messy writing almost immediately.


    "It''s hatching."


    Flynn frowned, but ultimately decided the message was important enough that he wouldn''t kill the snowy owl for stealing his breakfast. He shot it a glare anyways, and it gave him a look that he could only describe as being way too haughty to belong on a bird''s face, before it flew away.


    Surprisingly, instead of flying back out of the Great Hall, it landed on a tall ledge on one of the walls and started to preen itself. Flynn narrowed his eyes at the odd behaviour, but managed to notice that it had another folded note clutched gently in its talons, similar to the one that it had dropped onto him. It seemed like the owl had another delivery to make, and given how Flynn was one of the only few students that went to breakfast this early, he could only assume that the owl decided to wait around to deliver its next letter instead of pointlessly heading back to the owlery when it would just have to come back later.


    When it gave him a pointed glare, as if to tell him off for staring at it while it groomed itself, Flynn scowled at it one last time before turning away to give it some privacy.


    As he waited for another omelette to be made, to replace the one that the bird had stolen, a few more students started to pour into the Great Hall. By the time that a plate floated in front of him, with four individual omelettes stacked on top of it, Flynn let out an annoyed grumble before he started to shove them all in his mouth.


    "This may be the first time I''ve ever seen you actually eating in the Great Hall, besides the first day," Blaise said, as he casually slid into the seat next to him. "I always doubted you were starving yourself, given how pudgy you''d gotten recently, but I did wonder when you found the time to eat."


    Flynn scowled at Blaise, but was still only halfway through his omelettes. He swallowed down his last omelette before turning to glare at Blaise.


    "Fuck off," he said. "I ain''t fat."


    "Well, not anymore you''re not," Blaise said with a shrug. "But a month ago? Phew. That must''ve been embarrassing for you."


    "I''ll punch you in the head. Then we''ll see who''s fat," Flynn grumbled.


    "If you''re trying to make a point there, I''m really not seeing it," Blaise said, as he reached up to grab a small pastry off a plate that passed him by.


    "Fuck off," Flynn said, before standing up and marching out of the Great Hall.


    When he almost ran directly into a familiar trio of Gryffindor students, who were entering the Hall just as he was trying to leave, he shot a dirty look towards the owl for delaying his breakfast for long enough that he would run into them, before glaring back down at the trio.


    "Good morning, Flintstone," Hermione said quickly, giving him a strained smile as she stepped forward, as if she were getting ready to step in between Flynn and the two boys, who had been glaring up at him, though Ron immediately turned to Hermione with a shocked expression.


    "Good morning?!" he asked, sounding completely scandalized. "Hermione, he''s a snake."


    Hermione sighed, with a cadence that suggested that it wasn''t the first time that she''d made that exact sound.


    "Not all Slytherins are like Malfoy, Ron," she said. "Have you forgotten that Flintstone helped save my life from that troll?"


    "Help? Hermione, he almost got Harry killed!"


    Flynn''s eye twitched. Though he hadn''t planned to exchange a single word with any of them, he couldn''t stop the angry growl that escaped his lips.


    "The fuck did you just say?"


    Ron froze on the spot, as if just realizing that Flynn could hear what he was saying. He didn''t say anything for a long moment, seeming too caught off guard to think of anything to say, but he wasn''t the one to speak up.


    "You could have just left," Harry Potter, the boy who did fuck all, said.


    Not needing much reason to focus his anger on the boy who inexplicably made him so annoyed without even trying, Flynn stepped up to Harry, using all of his height to stare down at him with as much menace as he could muster.


    "Were you always this fucking stupid, or did whatever caused that scar of yours extend all the way down to your brain?"


    For some reason, Flynn wasn''t surprised when Harry only glared at him harder, rather than looking away. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see Harry''s fists clenching by his sides, and he kept his eyes narrowed as he mentally prepared himself to retaliate tenfold when Harry eventually threw the first punch, but surprisingly someone else intervened before either of them could make their first move.


    Harry let out a quiet grunt as a small folded note hit his face. He glared at Flynn, as if Flynn had been the one to drop the note on his face, but when he glanced upward, his expression softened almost immediately as he held his arm out.


    A familiar white owl landed silently and softly on Harry''s outstretched arm, and it gave Flynn a cursory glare back before leaning down to nip at Harry''s hair.


    "Hey, stop that, Hedwig," Harry said, laughing as he gently placed his hand on the bird''s face and pushed it away.


    The bird gave Harry an annoyed grimace as it shook its head to try and unruffle its feathers, but it didn''t seem to care enough to reprimand the boy. After nipping at Harry''s hair one last time, it pushed off his arm and took off, flying back towards the owlery. Harry''s eyes followed it with a warm expression, before he seemed to realize that he should be glaring at Flynn instead, though the effect of it was lessened with how his glasses were still askew from the owl''s friendly assault.


    Flynn and Harry glared at each other for a few more seconds before Hermione coughed awkwardly into her fist.


    "Harry," she said. "I think Hedwig wanted to give you something."


    Harry seemed shocked by Hermione''s words, as if he''d forgotten she was there, before he glanced down at his feet where a suspiciously familiar note laid. When Flynn glared down at the note, Harry bent down quickly to snatch it up off the ground. Giving Flynn a quick glare, he unfolded the note and read it quickly, though if Flynn''s suspicions were correct, there wasn''t much to read.


    Harry''s eyebrows shot up, and his lips twitched up into a grin before he glanced behind him.


    "Ron! Hermione!" he said, his focus on Flynn immediately disappearing as he waved the note towards his friends.


    Flynn scowled at the sight of Harry turning his back to him, as he seemed to forget about him entirely, but it wasn''t like he was offended by the lack of attention. Even without seeing for himself, the fact that the note was delivered to Harry by the same owl that had delivered Hagrid''s note to Flynn gave him at least a bit of an idea of what was written on the note.


    "It''s hatching!" Ron said, in a volume that made it clear that he didn''t fully understand the concept of whispering.


    Flynn shot the group a scowl that went unnoticed, and though his suspicions were confirmed, he didn''t feel satisfied in the slightest.


    Marching away as fast as he could, to try and avoid having to listen to the trio''s inane chattering any longer, he almost ran over another eyesore in turn.


    "Watch it you oaf!" Draco whined angrily, before he patted down his robes aggressively, as if he thought that Flynn had rubbed some dirt on them. Once he seemed satisfied that there was nothing to clean off, he sneered up at Flynn, and gave him a slight bow. "Oh, my apologies, Lord Slytherin. I didn''t realize it was you. With your impressive waistline, I must''ve mistaken you for a wall."


    Flynn glared at him, but didn''t feel like wasting time when he had other things to do, not that he really cared about the blonde bitch to retaliate in the first place. Maybe if it were in the start of the year, he would bother to talk back and try to intimidate him into leaving him alone, but once it became obvious that the blonde bitch wouldn''t do anything further than making passive aggressive comments while he hid under the shadows of his two cronies, Flynn had a hard time finding a reason to waste any mental energy on him.


    Flynn didn''t bother to respond as he walked forward, earning another indignant yelp from the blonde bitch as he barely jumped out of Flynn''s path.


    Flynn didn''t look back as the blonde bitch yelled some vague and mild threats at his back, finding no reason to take them seriously, especially when his cronies were off sick for poisoning themselves with chicken that they had forgotten in their pockets for weeks after trying to emulate Flynn''s eating habits. Though Madam Pomfrey could apparently heal them of their troubles almost instantly if she wanted to, she had made it a point to let them heal through more natural means to drive in the lesson that they surely hadn''t learned, as well as giving them, and the other Slytherin first years, an actual lecture about their health when Vincent and Gregory told her that it was a "popular" trend amongst the other Slytherin first year boys.


    Without another word, Flynn marched through the Hogwarts Castle until he found himself in a basement cellar that had an immense still-life painting of a pile of fruit against one of the walls. A couple of Hufflepuff students seemed startled at his presence as they appeared from a room that was way to small to fit all of them, but Flynn paid them no attention except to confirm that none of them were Lily.


    It was only when one of them walked up to him that he bothered to acknowledge their existence.


    "You''re Flynn, right?" a small Hufflepuff girl asked, despite the scared looks her friends were giving her, silently waving at her to come back.


    Flynn shot the boys behind her a quick glare, before he looked back at her.


    "Who''s asking?" he growled.


    "Hannah Abbott," the girl said, as she casually inspected Flynn, before grimacing and shaking her head. "I''m Lily''s dormmate. You''re here for her, right?"


    Flynn refused to react, keeping his arms crossed and glare sharp.


    "She talks about you, a lot," she explained, with a tired look in her eye. "Do you want me to get her?"


    "I''ll wait," Flynn grunted, as he looked up at the doorway that more Hufflepuffs were steadily streaming out of.


    "Okay," Hannah said, though she looked relieved by the answer. "But it might be a while. She always sleeps in. I have no idea how Sally manages, but it''s a miracle how she''s not always late to class."


    Flynn let out a huff of annoyance, and Hannah raised an eyebrow at him, but seemed to realize quickly that it wasn''t meant for her.


    "Okay," she said. "See you around."


    Flynn let out a small grunt, which seemed to confuse her, but she eventually shrugged her shoulders and rejoined her group of friends, who seemed relieved that she''d returned alive.


    True to Hannah''s word, it took Lily and Sally a long time to burst out of the room, about three minutes before morning classes would start, nearly running past Flynn before doing a double take and nearly tripping over their own feet as they did.


    "Flynn?" Lily asked, still blinking some sleep from her eyes. "What are you doing here? How do you even know where the Hufflepuff dorms are?"


    "I followed where the other Hufflepuffs were coming from," Flynn answered. "And I''m here because Hagrid''s dragon is hatching."


    Lily''s eyes narrowed for a moment, before her focus was broken by a large yawn that looked like it might split her mouth open entirely.


    "Sorry," she said, struggling to speak past her yawn. "I didn''t hear that. Hagrid''s what?"


    "Hagrid''s dragon," Flynn repeated, louder this time so he wouldn''t have to repeat it again.


    For some reason, Lily seemed confused by what he said. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she grabbed her chin in a thinking pose that was so stereotypical that it almost felt like she was mocking it. Unfortunately, Flynn didn''t have enough time to decipher what she could possibly be so confused by, before he felt something slap him in the mouth.


    Looking down, he saw Sally, reaching up on her tip toes to press her hands hard against his mouth, with a nervous look that only seemed to intensify as their eyes met for possibly the first time since they''d met. Like a small animal, she froze under his glare, keeping her hands pressed against his mouth more out of fear than anything else. Though Flynn felt like he should push her away, he was confused enough by the sudden violence to freeze in place as well, as he struggled to understand the reasoning behind Sally''s sudden slap.


    "Oh yeah," Lily said, nodding to herself. "People aren''t allowed to keep dragons as pets. You shouldn''t talk about Hagrid''s dragon in public, Flynn, or he might get in trouble."


    Sally immediately let go of Flynn to rush over and to try and slap them over Lily''s mouth, if it weren''t for Lily letting out a yelp and quickly intercepting Sally''s hands. Sally wrestled with Lily for a moment before she looked around to see that nobody was actually around to overhear them before she let go and gave both of them a glare.


    Though Flynn waited a few seconds for her to start talking, the only thing that Sally did was to jolt up in the spot, as if she had suddenly realized what she was doing, and averted her gaze away from both Flynn and Lily. Flynn frowned, but Lily mostly ignored it, paying more attention to rubbing at the corners of her eyes.


    "So did you come down to tell us that?" Lily asked. "That''s very sweet of you, Flynn. Hopefully Hagrid''s little baby hasn''t hatched by the end of our first class."


    "Binns''s class is worthless, and I''m not sure that Hagrid''s hut won''t burn down if I''m not there," Flynn said. "I''m skipping. I''m just making sure you don''t think I''m abandoning you to face him without me, so you don''t get all annoying about it later."


    "Oh," Lily said, frowning when she realised what he was talking about. "Ok, then I''ll skip too."


    "I thought you don''t skip classes," Flynn said. "Not that I give a shit either way."


    "I''d say something about how you''re a bad influence, but I can''t think of one right now," she said, frowning and shaking her head. "Remind me to tell you one later."


    "Save it," Flynn said. "I don''t care about your shitty jokes."


    "Sally, are you coming?" Lily asked, ignoring Flynn''s comment entirely.


    Sally hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.


    "I shouldn''t," she said. "I can try to give Binns an excuse about why you two are missing if he asks, but I''ll go to Hagrid''s after class."


    "Okay," Lily said, with a lethargic nod before walking off. "We''ll see you then."


    Flynn grabbed Lily''s arm, stopping her from going back towards the Hufflepuff dorms and dragged her down the hall in the opposite direction. After a moment, after Lily somehow managed to wrap her arms around his, despite him having a firm grip on her wrist, he considered shaking her off before he realized that her head was hanging down gently and her eyes were completely closed as she walked alongside him.


    "You really do suck at waking up," Flynn said.


    Lily let out a low grumble, her only other response being to cling to Flynn''s arm tighter. When they stepped out of the castle, Lily seemed to finally be jolted awake by the cold late-winter air, though unfortunately that only made her cling tighter to Flynn for warmth.


    "You really are a bad influence on me, Flintstone Fredericton," she said, through lightly chattering teeth. "Maybe my dad was right about boys like you."


    "I thought I told you I don''t care about your shitty jokes," Flynn grunted.


    "When did you say that?" Lily asked.


    Flynn let out an annoyed huff, but didn''t bother giving her an answer.


    Hagrid''s hut was still standing, but Flynn didn''t slow down until he was knocking at Hagrid''s door. When Hagrid opened the door a few seconds later, his hands clad in thick oven mitts and his beard failing to hide the smile that was behind it, Flynn couldn''t help but be incredibly annoyed by how openly Hagrid was displaying the egg, now that he knew that it was illegal. Without giving Hagrid the chance to invite them inside, Flynn walked through the door, dragged Lily in behind him, and slammed the door shut.


    "Ye made it!" Hagrid beamed, not paying any mind to the rough treatment of his door. "I though ye wouldn''t be here until yer first period ended, at the very least."


    "Flynn and I decided that this was much more important than class," Lily said. "Sally wanted to come too, but she said she''d cover for us so we wouldn''t get in trouble."


    "Oh," Hagrid said, his expression twisting like he was confused about what he should be feeling. "It''s not good te be skipping classes. Yer education''s important ye know."


    "So are you, Hagrid," Lily said simply.


    Hagrid turned away quickly, but not fast enough to hide the deep blush that blossomed over the few inches of skin that weren''t completely covered by his beard. He sputtered something unintelligible, before silently offering Lily a mug of tea, which she happily accepted.


    Flynn ignored the interaction as he scanned the room instead, scowling when he saw that all the curtains were opened, letting light stream freely inside.


    "Hagrid? Why are all the windows curtains opened?" he asked.


    "To let the light in, o'' course," Hagrid mumbled under his breath, as he shifted the embers in his fireplace closer against the black dragon egg, refusing to meet Lily''s eyes.


    "Is it necessary?" Flynn asked. "What if someone peeks in and sees that you have a dragon egg?"


    "I wouldn'' worry about tha''," Hagrid said. "Not many folk come ''round my cabin, and the only ones tha'' do already know about the dragon."


    "Oh?" Lily said. "There are more people than us?"


    "Yeah," Hagrid said, turning his attention back to the fire, still not able to look Lily in the face. "I sent them a message too. I''m sure they''ll come ''round after the first classes end."


    "Not everyone can be a delinquent like us," Lily said, with a serious nod.


    It quickly turned out that there wasn''t much to do in preparation for a dragon hatching. Aside from making sure that the flames were stoked down to embers, keeping the egg warm but not suffocating the emerging baby dragon with smoke, the only thing that needed to be prepared was a copious amount of brandy and chicken blood to be mixed in a bucket, and Hagrid already had that on hand.


    At first, Lily had busied herself by staring intently at the egg, but it seemed like the glacial pace that the spiderweb of cracks was expanding at wasn''t enough to keep her entertained, so she defaulted to harassing Fang as he tried to sleep in the corner of the hut. Flynn glanced out the window every so often, but as time went on without him seeing anything, the frequency of his checks started to go down as time went on until he arbitrarily decided that it might be close to the end of the first period, though it was difficult to tell without a clock in Hagrid''s hut.


    Regardless, Flynn managed to catch the movement of three figures during one of his checks. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as they approached, and though he wasn''t particularly happy when he managed to identify them, he wasn''t dumb enough to think that they were a threat to Hagrid''s secret either, given the fact that he saw Hagrid''s letter slapping Harry in the face.


    Sitting down with a huff, Flynn kept his arms crossed and his lips pulled down into a frown, refusing to react when there was a knock on the door.


    Though Fang grumbled towards the door, with no energy to bark after being knocked nearly comatose by Lily''s hour long ear scratches, Hagrid didn''t even seem to notice the sound of the knock as he stared intensely at his dragon egg. Seeing that he was busy, Lily got up despite Fang''s lazy protests and made her way to the door.


    "And what do you think you would''ve done if he hadn''t been there?" an exasperated voice bled into the room as the door opened. "We hadn''t been taught any combat spells at the time, so it was a miracle that he had something to deal with the situation."


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Though Flynn was sitting in a position where he was hidden behind the door, it wasn''t difficult to identify the voices.


    "That only makes him even more suspicious, Hermione," Ron replied. "He''s a first year just like us, so how come he knows a spell like that? You''ve seen him in charms. I''m better at charms than him, and I''m rubbish! Seems pretty shady to me. What if he''s just pretending?"


    "He''s not rubbish, Ron. And neither are you. Spellwork is just a combination of repetition and effort, so clearly he''s been doing some practise on the knockback jinx in his spare time. I know a few spells beyond our grade and I don''t see you calling me shady. Besides, regardless of how he knows it, it doesn''t change the fact that the three of us don''t. So tell me, what were you planning to do without him? Stick your wand up its nose?"


    "Umm," Harry''s voice said, interrupting Ron''s voice before it could start. "Who are you?"


    From where he was sitting, Flynn could see Lily giving an unimpressed look towards someone who was at her eye level.


    "I know it''s easy to assume you''re famous enough that everyone knows your name, but it''s still quite rude to demand that someone gives you their name without introducing yourself first, you know," she said.


    "Oh," Harry replied, sounding flustered enough by the reprimand to need a moment to continue. "Sorry. My name''s Harry, and this is Ron and Hermione. Is Hagrid in?"


    "Oi!" Hagrid shouted from inside the hut, finally acknowledging the trio''s arrival though he didn''t turn around. "Come in quickly, you lot. You''re lettin'' all the heat out."


    Lily stepped aside to let the trio in, as they let out a set of hurried apologies. As Lily closed the door behind them, Flynn glared at the trio as they kicked off their shoes at the door until they all slowly started to notice him.


    "My name''s Lily," Lily said before they could say anything. "And this is Flynn. It''s very nice to meet the three of you."


    "Likewise," Hermione said, though it was possible that it was just a reflex as she didn''t stop staring at Flynn.


    Lily frowned as she seemed to realize that something was going on, but quickly returned her expression to a smile.


    "Oh, you all know each other already?" she half-asked, half-stated.


    "Y-yeah," Ron stammered out, looking around in every direction besides Flynn, though he couldn''t seem to focus on anything for more than a few seconds.


    "I suppose you could say that," Hermione added.


    Harry didn''t say a word, as he glanced between Flynn and Hagrid, frowning the entire time.


    Lily stared blankly at each of them, before her eyes narrowed.


    "I see," she said. "And when exactly did all of you meet? Judging from how you''re acting, I can''t assume you''ve known each other for very long, but since I know how prickly Flynn can be, I might guess that you all met a few months ago. Maybe around Halloween?"


    A tangible feeling of tension seemed to settle in the room at Lily''s question, though Flynn wasn''t exactly sure why. The only people who didn''t seem to notice or care about it were Hagrid and Fang, but the rest of the room''s attention was focused on Lily as she glared at the trio.


    "Y-you''re absolutely correct," Hermione said, with a choked laugh. "We actually did meet on Halloween."


    "I assumed," Lily said, giving Hermione a smile that didn''t quite reach her eyes. "I didn''t actually talk with Flynn on Halloween, and I didn''t actually talk with him on the day after Halloween either, even though we were supposed to have classes together that day. He had permission from Professor Snape to take the day off because of his injuries."


    There was a short silence that stretched over the room, though it quickly evolved into a long and awkward one as Hermione seemed unsure about whether Lily had finished talking and lost her the opportunity to continue the conversation without it being awkward. She gave Lily and Flynn an awkward smile back, which Lily returned with a wide grin of her own.


    "Actually, we were just talking about that," Hermione said, with a laugh. "Flintstone is rather difficult to track down, and I was just talking to Ron and Harry about how they haven''t had the chance to thank Flynn for helping them fight that troll. It was all my fault we were in that situation of course, but Flynn was a huge help in saving my life and I''m sure more of us would''ve been hurt if it weren''t for him."


    Lily blinked in surprise for a moment, her too-wide smile breaking for a moment before she seemed to fully process what Hermione had said, but her glare returned in full force as she turned her focus to the two boys instead.


    "You''re telling me that you three were with Flynn when he fought that troll," Lily said. "But you never bothered to thank him or even check up on him afterwards?"


    "I did," Hermione squeaked out.


    Lily''s eyes narrowed for a moment before she closed them completely. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes to give Harry and Ron what looked like a soft smile.


    "Well, Flynn is pretty hard to find if you don''t know where to look for him, I''ll give you that," Lily said, with a laugh. "But I guess that problem''s fixed now, isn''t it? Now you boys have the perfect opportunity to say thank you."


    The three Gryffindors each reacted to the not so subtle demand differently. Hermione glanced back at her friends with an anxious look in her eyes, and while Ron and Harry both looked between Lily and Flynn with a look that made it clear that they wouldn''t be thanking Flynn for his help, their specific reactions were slightly different. While Ron looked confused as if he couldn''t fathom why Lily was demanding a thanks in the first place, Harry looked at her with a guarded hostility, as if she was demanding something unjust of him.


    Flynn had seen that look a hundred times before, of someone who felt like they were being beat down by the world and didn''t understand why. While most of the street rats in Fredericton learned their lesson in one way or another, nobody ever truly lost access to that "look", since the lesson they learned was often that the world was just unfair for no reason and that there was nothing they could do to change it.


    Flynn sighed and finally stood up, making the trio flinch back, more at the suddenness of his movement than them actually being intimidated, but Lily didn''t seem to notice until he grabbed her wrist. She flinched at the touch, but didn''t look back, refusing to take her eyes off the trio.


    "Hey," Flynn said. "What makes you think that I need you to speak for me?"


    "Well, you clearly weren''t going to speak up for yourself," Lily grumbled.


    "Yeah, that''s because I didn''t give a shit," Flynn said. "Instead of asking them to thank me, I''d rather they just shut up so I don''t have to listen to their annoying-ass voices."


    "But you were hurt," Lily said, finally turning around to look up at him.


    For some reason, Flynn didn''t like the way that angry tears were forming in the corners of her eyes so he turned around, walking back towards where he''d been sitting. Lily almost stumbled as she failed to realize he wasn''t going to let go of her, and he slowed down to let her catch her footing, before continuing to drag her away.


    "I''m fine," Flynn grunted, still keeping his eyes firmly pointed away from her as he sat down, dragging her down with him. "And don''t think it doesn''t apply to you too. Instead of giving me sympathy, I''d rather you just shut up so I don''t have to listen to your annoying-ass voice."


    Even though he wasn''t looking at her, he could feel the heat of her glare burning a hole in the side of his head until she let out an annoyed huff and let her upper body fall against his arm, maybe a little more aggressively than she needed to. Flynn had the feeling that she was still glaring at the trio, but even though he felt a strange warmth travelled through him for no reason, it seemed like she hadn''t quite understood that he didn''t want any energy wasted on those three on his behalf. Grabbing Lily''s shoulder, Flynn forcefully turned her towards him so she wouldn''t be able to look in the trio''s direction unless she strained her neck. She let out a quiet squeak of protest, but when he pulled her closer to him, she suddenly went completely silent.


    Flynn couldn''t help but marvel at the utter silence that the room had fell into, and wondered if it had always been this easy to shut Lily up for once in her life. Aside from the crackling of the fire that Hagrid hadn''t taken his eyes off of for the past hour, the silence in the room was almost smothering, which wasn''t something that Flynn minded in the slightest, but after a few long seconds, he realized that he had never known Lily being so quiet or still for so long except for the time that she had fallen asleep on his arm.


    Flynn glanced down to see if that was the case, and was surprised to see that she was staring blankly forward and her eyes were wide with confusion, though he could only see one of them with how he was squeezing half her face against his chest.


    As if noticing his gaze, Lily seemed to come back to life, as she slowly shifted her head to look up at him, staring directly at him with the same look of confused shock in her eyes.


    It took a few seconds before she seemed to realize something, and though Flynn couldn''t guess what that something was, it seemed to be startling enough for her to rip her eyes away from him, her face glowing with a tinge of pink.


    It took a few seconds for Flynn to realize the same thing, even if he still didn''t fully understand what that something was himself. Ignoring the feeling of heat blossoming in his cheeks, he pushed Lily away and aggressively scooted away from her.


    "Don''t fucking touch me," he grumbled, refusing to acknowledge how ridiculous that sounded, considering he had been the one to pull her close in the first place.


    Surprisingly, Lily didn''t say anything back, but though she remained silent, she didn''t remain still. While she kept her back towards him, and her face hidden away, she couldn''t stop her legs from swinging out of nervousness or excitement, and kept fidgeting with her hair, pushing it back to reveal how red her ears had become.


    "I''m confused. What are they doing?" Ron whispered, with a volume that once again betrayed the fact that he didn''t quite understand the base concept of whispering.


    "Shh!" Hermione hissed. "Don''t ruin it!"


    Before Flynn could do anything, Lily was actually the one to shoot a glare towards the trio first, revealing to Flynn just how much of her face had been coloured in a deep shade of red. Though Lily still refused to look in his direction, she seemed to realize that she''d accidentally exposed herself to him, and quickly turned back away from him, hiding herself behind a curtain of hair.


    Flynn had no idea what to do, or even think in this situation, so a wave of relief washed over him when he heard a knock on the door, and a quiet creak as the person on the other side didn''t bother to wait for a reply.


    Sally casually walked into Hagrid''s hut, with her face flushed from the cold, and kicked the snow off her boots and took them off before freezing on the spot when she noticed the presence of three people that she was largely unfamiliar with.


    Though Hermione and Ron barely registered her arrival, Harry glanced at her with a confused look, which Sally returned in kind.


    There was a long and awkward silence, before Sally finally decided to take her coat off, and sat down beside Lily. Though she didn''t seem comfortable with the situation, glancing wildly around the room, she didn''t say anything to question it either.


    The room sat in silence for a long time, before Hagrid let out a loud gasp.


    "He''s nearly out," Hagrid said, in a voice that sounded close to a cry. "Come on, Norbert. Yer surrounded by friends, ye got nothing te be shy about."


    "Norbert?" either Harry or Ron asked, though Flynn wasn''t certain of which it was.


    Regardless of the choice in name, the opportunity to see a dragon hatching was interesting enough that the tension in the air was somewhat dispelled, as the trio, walked further inside to watch as something struggled to push itself out of the egg. Though Flynn, Lily, and Sally were already seated close enough to see the egg without moving, Lily stood up and got closer to watch anyways.


    Flynn and Sally remained seated, and though Flynn was admittedly interested enough about the dragon to keep his eyes on it, he couldn''t help but notice that Sally kept glancing at the door to Hagrid''s hut.


    Flynn tried to ignore the inane fidgeting, as Hagrid cooed at the egg, as if that was helping coax the dragon out of it, but when Sally showed no signs of stopping, he couldn''t help but get annoyed by the sight.


    "The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, in a low enough voice that Hagrid wouldn''t be able to hear, even though he was sure that he was too blind and deaf to the rest of the world to notice.


    "Huh?" Sally said, her eyes widening in shock, like she had no idea how he could have possibly noticed her presence.


    "You keep looking at the door," Flynn said. "You got somewhere to be?"


    Sally shook her head, but still glanced back at the door.


    "I just thought he would be here, by now," she mumbled.


    "Who the hell are you talking about?" Flynn asked back.


    "Your friend?" Sally said, in more of a question than a statement.


    Flynn grunted at her.


    "I don''t have friends," he said.


    Sally glanced at Lily, but didn''t comment any further on it.


    "The Slytherin boy you sometimes talk to, then," she said. "He didn''t say anything to me, but we were going the same direction for a while so I thought he was headed to Hagrid''s hut too. I just thought he''d be here by now."


    "Blaise?" Flynn asked, though he couldn''t think of any possible reason why the laid-back boy would go out of his way to do something as troublesome as walking out in the snow to come to Hagrid''s hut, regardless of the reason behind it.


    Sally shook her head. "No, not him," she said. "The blonde one. I think his name was Malfoy or something."


    Flynn narrowed his eyes. Though he didn''t know Draco well enough to think of any reason why he would be coming to Hagrid''s hut unprompted, he knew that it could never be anything good.


    Flynn got up quickly and moved to the windows, grabbing the curtains and quickly shutting them. Hagrid seemed to enamoured by the dragon egg to notice or care, but at the sound, Harry''s head whipped around to glare suspiciously at Flynn.


    "What are you doing?" he asked.


    "What does it look like, asshole?" Flynn answered, as he moved along the windows to shut the next set of curtains.


    "Why don''t you just leave the curtains alone?" Harry asked. "I''m sure Hagrid knows what he''s doing."


    Flynn grunted, in place of an argument.


    "Lizards like to hide under rocks," he said. "Dragons might want the same thing."


    "Well, actually, though many lizards do hide under rocks, that doesn''t necessarily mean that they lay their eggs under them. While some lizard species do lay their eggs in small holes or dark crevices, it''s not a general rule, and though I wasn''t able to find much reading on dragons, their nesting habits are even more varied," Hermione said, though she was only half-focused on the conversation, with her attention still on the egg. "Some dragon species do nest out in the open on the highest mountaintop peaks that they can find, and though I couldn''t find any specific information on Norwegian Ridgebacks, Norway is a very mountainous country, so I think it might be easy to assume that they might follow a similar nesting habit."


    "The egg''s black though," Flynn grunted, as he closed a few more curtains, nearly stumbling over Fang as he ran around the perimeter of the hut. "Black gets hot fast. They might not want the eggs to get cooked."


    "That might''ve made sense if the egg wasn''t already sitting in a fireplace," Harry said.


    Flynn glared at Harry, but didn''t engage with him until he walked over to the last curtain and pulled it shut.


    "You''ve got a fucking problem with me?" Flynn growled.


    "That''s up to you," Harry responded, as he stood up and walked to one of the windows. "This is very important to Hagrid, and I''m not going to let you ruin it because you think that you can cook a dragon egg by leaving it out in the sun."


    Before Flynn could do or say anything, Hagrid let out a squeal of delight at a pitch that might''ve suited Lily more than it did him.


    "Oh, isn''t he beautiful?" Hagrid said, cooing before Flynn heard a loud snapping sound that made him look away from Harry, and at the sentient black trashbag that was baring its fangs at Hagrid, letting out a sound that was halfway between a warble and a hiss before it sneezed and a few sparks of flame shot out from its nose.


    "Oh, bless him," Hagrid said, wiping a happy tear from the corner of his eye. "He knows his mummy!"


    When Flynn heard the sound of curtains being aggressively shut, he turned around to see Harry staring around the room at the rest of the windows, before settling on him. Without saying a word, he quickly shuffled towards his group of friends and whispered something to them that Flynn didn''t manage to hear, but Ron''s whispered reaction almost echoed through the small hut.


    "Malfoy?" he asked. "He saw?"


    Though Harry seemed proficient enough at whispering to not be heard himself, he didn''t seem to notice or care that his friend was absolutely horrible at it. He whispered something back, and Ron and Hermione both let out a sigh.


    "Well, that''s a relief," Ron whispered. "But still. I wonder how he suspected something was up in the first place?"


    Though Hagrid still seemed completely oblivious to what was going on around him, as he happily poured out some chicken blood and brandy into Fang''s old water bowl, earning an annoyed grunt from the large dog, Flynn scanned the hut to make sure that he had properly closed all the curtains without allowing a single gap. As he did, he noticed Lily staring at him with a confused expression on her face, though she quickly broke eye contact with their gazes met, and Sally, whose face had turned pale with concern as she seemed to vaguely realize what was going on.


    Flynn sent a glare towards the trio that none of them seemed to notice, before a rank smell permeated the air of the room.


    "Oh good boy, Norbert," Hagrid said, letting out a hearty laugh as a dark puddle spread over the table that he''d transferred the dragon onto. "Good boy, just let it all out. It''s not healthy to hold it in. Flynn! Would ya mind crackin open a window?"


    "Give me a second," Flynn said, as he walked over to a window and drew the curtain back slightly so he could peek out of it.


    His eyes narrowed at the back of the lone student that he could see in the distance. Though he couldn''t be certain, from the height, the hair, and the way that he was stomping angrily away, as if he was a spoiled toddler who''d just had his toy taken away from him, he could only assume who it was.


    "Sure," Flynn said, keeping the curtain closed, but opening the window behind it.


    "Thanks, lad," Hagrid said, though he frowned immediately after. "Why''re the curtains closed?"


    Flynn shrugged and pointed with his chin towards the trio. "Ask those assholes," he said, as walked over to stand beside Lily and stare down at Norbert.


    "What do you think?" Lily asked, though her voice was quieter than he''d ever heard it before.


    Flynn glared at Lily, but for some reason found that it was difficult to stare at her for too long, so he directed his attention towards the wrinkly lizard that was somehow still pissing all over Hagrid''s table.


    "Are dragons usually this fucking ugly?" he asked.


    The dragon narrowed its eyes at him, and hissed loudly at him before coughing a small spout of flame in his direction.


    Lily yelped, and Flynn flinched away from the flame, but when it dissipated less than a foot away from the dragon''s mouth, he glared down at it.


    "Bitch," he said.


    The dragon hissed angrily up at him.

 1.14 Fixing other peoples problems

    "What''s the oaf up to, Fredericton? Got a little dragon breeding ring in his little hut does he?"


    Flynn glanced lazily at Draco, who looked way too disheveled to pull off the casual intimidation that he was attempting. Though his hair was combed, and his robes were perfectly washed and pressed, the way that Draco sneered sideways at him, while he pretended to inspect his nails was a little too forced, and the tiredness behind his eyes was a little too obvious.


    "The fuck are you talking about?" Flynn grumbled, trying not to be too aggressive and accidentally imply that he had anything to hide.


    "I overheard Weasley talking about it the other day," Draco said, still pretending to inspect his nails and making Flynn think that he might not have any other ''casual pose'' in his arsenal that he could use. "I didn''t hear the exact details of it, but I heard enough. Perhaps you don''t know this, since I can only assume someone of your bearing might consider yourself above the laws that bind us common folk, Lord Slytherin, but I would like to humbly advise you that owning a dragon is a very illegal thing to do. That oaf you like to associate with could go away to azkaban for a very long time for this."


    Flynn stared blankly at Draco, wondering if he should feel annoyed, or to just feel pity at Draco''s attempts to trick him. Even if the casual facade that the boy was putting up was unnatural as hell on its own, the fact that he had gone out of his way to wake up early to catch Flynn before he left, made it obvious that Draco had been planning for this since last night, and from the looks of it, he had barely slept. The fact that Draco was awake at this time in the first place made it obvious that he wasn''t confident in his accusations, since he was trying to catch Flynn in a moment where they wouldn''t be overheard by the other Slytherin boys who had their noise cancelling curtains draped around their four-poster beds.


    "You got up early to tell me this?" Flynn grunted, pushing past Draco to go the shared washroom. Pulling out his toothbrush from the bag he kept under his robes, he started to brush his teeth, letting out a low groan of annoyance when Draco followed him inside.


    "Go be a little bitch somewhere else," Flynn grumbled around his toothbrush.


    "I know that the oaf has a dragon in his hut, Fredericton," Draco said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door, as if he was trapping Flynn inside.


    "Good for you," Flynn grumbled, still brushing his teeth.


    "It seems that you don''t quite understand what I''m saying, Fredericton, so let me spell it out for you," Draco said, as he started to inspect his nails yet again. "As someone who spends an unnatural time with that oaf, I suspect you might be considered an accomplice to that whole fiasco once the proper authorities are alerted of his crimes. While I admit, we may have our differences, in the end we are fellow housemates, are we not? I would hate for you to be implicated in such a thing."


    "What the fuck are you going on about?" Flynn asked, before gargling some water and spitting it aggressively into the sink.


    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco twitching, before he went back to inspecting his nails.


    "I''m saying, Fredericton, that you should join me in incriminating the groundskeeper," he said. "Under normal circumstances, I don''t think that even my name would be enough to protect you from the full force of the law, but even though I have more than enough grounds to report this to my father, I''m giving you an opportunity. If you would be the one to report this incident to the authorities, I suspect that they would see less of a reason to punish you."


    "Punish me for what, exactly?" Flynn asked, as he splashed his face with water a few times. Some of the water got on his robes, but he didn''t mind. It would dry up soon anyways. In the mirror, he saw Draco''s face twist up momentarily in an expression of anger and frustration.


    "Are you stupid?" he asked, dropping the casual facade completely as he stomped his foot down against the bathroom tiles. "I''m talking about the dragon, you dense mudblood!"


    It had been a while since Flynn had heard that word, long enough that he had almost forgotten what it was supposed to mean and how much offense he was supposed to take to it, but even when he remembered that it was a supposed slur, and that if he were back in Fredericton, he would have to beat up Draco on principle to protect his image from seeming too soft, he almost couldn''t bring himself to care.


    Flynn sighed and shook his head.


    "Ron''s dragon?" he asked.


    "I''m not talking about him!" Draco hissed in an almost literal sense.


    "Then say his fucking name," Flynn groaned. "You and all the pompous asshats in this school. There are at least three fucking Weasleys in this school. How the fuck am I supposed to know which one you''re talking about?"


    "It''s none of them!" Draco said. "I''m talking about the dragon that that dumb oaf Hagrid is keeping in his shed!"


    Flynn sighed, as disdainfully as he could manage.


    "Didn''t you say that you overheard a Weasley talking about his dragon?" Flynn asked, before shaking his head. "Don''t answer that. I don''t give enough of a shit to actually try and keep track."


    Draco glared at Flynn before letting out a heavy huff and going back to inspecting his nails.


    "Oh, I see," he said, tilting his head back to try and look up his nose at Flynn, though with their height difference it ended up looking ridiculous. "You''re playing dumb. I have to say, it''s not a befitting look for someone of your pedigree, Lord Slytherin."


    Flynn sighed and shook his head again.


    "Look, bitch," he said. "I don''t give enough of a shit to go along with whatever you''re playing here, so either shut the fuck up or go fuck yourself."


    Flynn didn''t bother to wait for a response before he reached past Draco and pulled open the door. For a second, he thought that Draco might try to lean against the door to stop him from opening it, but the blonde bitch only let out an indignant yelp and scuttered away from the door''s path. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Draco giving him a glare, but he ignored it and stepped out of the bathroom, wasting no time in leaving the shared dorm room.


    Flynn let himself frown when he left the Slytherin dorm. He knew how little of a threat Draco was on a regular basis, which meant that he was also certain that Draco was too much of a coward to do anything against Hagrid unless he had absolute proof that the dragon existed, but the fact was that Draco had suspected Hagrid of hoarding a dragon.


    Flynn didn''t know what was the correct course of action that he could take was to protect Hagrid, his only source of exercise in this godforsaken school, but he knew that this early in the morning there wasn''t much he could do. While Flynn didn''t know Hagrid''s exact schedule, he knew that his groundskeeper''s duties usually started before dawn, and that he wouldn''t be in his hut at this time.


    Not knowing how he could even try to find Hagrid, Flynn went down to the Great Hall for breakfast, not seeing any sense in thinking about this on an empty stomach.


    Though there were only four older students and McGonagall who were eating breakfast, a large amount of plates floated lazily around the hall. When Flynn walked inside, one plate in particular seemed to twitch before making its way towards him. Flynn ignored the plate as it eagerly circled around his head, until he sat down and snatched it out of the air. Piling the entire plate of omelettes onto his plate, he casually threw the floating plate aside before he started to eat.


    He managed to finish the omelettes before any other students came in, and with the only non-packageable part of his breakfast finished, a swarm of plates gathered around him, offering him their contents. He grabbed whatever he could fit into his pockets, and walked out of the Great Hall, eating a small breakfast wrap as he did.


    As he walked down the hall, Flynn considered what to do about the Draco problem, when he wondered if his earlier assumption about Hagrid being away from his hut was actually true. Though it was true that his usual groundskeeper''s duties would have him leave the hut around this time, he had a newborn dragon to take care of, and even without considering the fact that it might burn down his house if left unattended, with how infatuated Hagrid had been with the ugly thing, Flynn doubted that he would leave it alone for even a second.


    Even if Hagrid wasn''t there, it was still a better option to go there than to wander the castle grounds aimlessly in hopes of stumbling into him, so Flynn made his way to the hut.


    Immediately, as soon as he was able to see the hut in the distance, he also saw the lazy clouds of smoke that emanated from the top of it. Though a moment of panic ran through him at the idea that the hut might actually be burning, at a closer look, he realized that he was coming out of the chimney.


    Confident that Hagrid was there now, Flynn walked quickly towards the hut, making sure he wasn''t being followed or watched. He frowned when he noticed that all of Hagrid''s curtains were opened, but with how dark it was inside the hut, the glare of the sun made it difficult to see inside at the very least.


    Still, he couldn''t help but feel annoyed at how little self-preservation Hagrid had, before he grabbed the door and pulled it open without bothering to knock.


    Though Fang didn''t even react to Flynn''s entrance, Hagrid let out a startled yell and put his hand over his heart, before he realized who had just come in.


    "Flynn!" he said. "Ye scared me there."


    "You should be more scared," Flynn growled, before he started to walk around the room, pulling the curtains shut.


    "What are ye talkin bout, Flynn?" Hagrid said, with a frown. "And why are ye closin all the curtains?"


    "There''s a student that suspects you have a dragon, and wants to report you on it. Send you to something called azkaban," Flynn said gruffly, answering the two questions at the same time. "Doesn''t seem like he''s got enough dirt on you to actually do it, but that might change if he actually sees it."


    Hagrid paled almost immediately.


    "Oh no, that''s bad," he muttered. "Who?"


    "Draco Malfoy," Flynn answered.


    To his surprise, even though he hadn''t expected him to know the name of a random first-year student, Hagrid let out a low pained moan and shook his head.


    "Malfoy," he muttered. "Can''t say I''m surprised. Dark wizards the lot of them are."


    Flynn didn''t know what to say in response, expecting that Hagrid was mostly talking to himself, but before he was given the option, there was a loud screech and a thud as the small dragon on Hagrid''s table bit at the metal bucket of chicken blood and brandy that Hagrid had laid down beside it. Though the bucket was too tall for the dragon to drink out of, it managed to catch its teeth against the rim of the bucket and bend it slightly.


    "Oh, don''t worry, Norbert," Hagrid said. "It''s okay. Mummy''s a little sad, but it''s not your fault."


    The dragon screeched again and pulled at the edge of the bucket but was unable to tip it over.


    "Just keep your curtains closed and it should be fine for now," Flynn said, turning away from Hagrid as he cried fat tears onto the dragon''s table, the sight of it making him feel uncomfortable for some reason. "But you should think of a way to stay out of jail. I''d be pretty annoyed if I got fat again with you gone."


    "Fanks, Flynn," Hagrid said, before blowing his nose loudly on his shirt. "Tha''s sweet of ye te say."


    Flynn frowned, but refused to acknowledge what he said in any other way.


    "What about the headmaster?" he asked, blurting out the first thing he could think of to change the subject.


    "What about him?" Hagrid asked.


    "You think he could give you special right to take care of the dragon?" Flynn asked. "Owning a dragon''s illegal now, but I can only assume it wasn''t always the case, or there wouldn''t be books written about it. I don''t know much about it, but back home, the local government exploited a bunch of old laws that only worked because there were some historical sites or whatever. I think they embezzled a bunch of the money that went into it, but point is that this school is old as shit. Might be able to get something out of it."


    Hagrid''s brow furrowed in confusion at what Flynn said, which was understandable since Flynn barely understood what he was saying himself. He knew that there was some sort of fuckery that could be pulled when it came to historical sites from the ranting that Tom did about the Fredericton community centre and its permanent state as a crackden for the homeless, but he didn''t really understand it himself. Still, from the hopeful look in Hagrid''s eye, he didn''t want to admit that he had no idea if his suggestion had any actual merit.


    "Look, I don''t know the details, but all I''m saying is that the magics seem to like to live in the past, or at least Hogwarts does. I haven''t seen a single fucking lightbulb in this goddamn castle, and the History teacher''s a fucking ghost, for fuck''s sake," Flynn said, saying whatever came to mind without even thinking about it. "And the fucking forest has all sorts of endangered magical creatures doesn''t it? Why wouldn''t they let you raise a dragon long enough that it could survive on its own there?"


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "I dunno, Flynn," Hagrid said, though he didn''t sound sure of himself.


    "Well, if you''ve got a better idea, I''d love to fucking hear it," Flynn said, practically growling in annoyance and frustration at this point. "But I''m not letting you just fucking give up. If I''m going to lose my only source of consistent exercise, it won''t be for the sake of a ugly fucking sentient trashbag."


    The dragon hissed at him, as if understanding the insult, but Flynn growled back at it.


    It took a surprising amount of yelling at Hagrid before he could convince him to quit being such a pussy and just take the chance to talk to the headmaster. Hagrid had tried to think of multiple reasons for why it was a bad idea, but none of his arguments were strong enough for Flynn to back off, and he seemed to accept the idea, promising to go to Dumbledore as soon as he could get the dragon to take a nap.


    Though Hagrid wasn''t as enthusiastic Flynn might''ve hoped, he had to admit that Hagrid was right and that there was no chance that he should leave the dragon alone in his hut when it was awake, unless he wanted to come home to a burnt down hut. Flynn tried glaring at the dragon, as if he could will it to fall asleep, but when it only hissed at him, spitting a jet of flame towards him that was almost double the size of the one that it had tried to spit at him yesterday, he realized he was only agitating it.


    With nothing he could feasibly do to make the dragon fall asleep faster, he reminded Hagrid to let Fang out before leaving to consult Dumbledore, just in case the dragon woke up in the middle of its nap and burnt down the hut, and headed off to his first class for the day.


    The first class of the day was Defense with the Ravenclaws, which was uneventful as always, but when he made his way to the dungeons for Potions with the Gryffindors, he couldn''t help but glare when he noticed a familiar trio of idiots talking with a familiar blonde bitch a short distance away from the door to Snape''s class.


    "We have no idea what you''re talking about, Malfoy," Harry said, glowering at the blonde bitch with an intense look in his eyes that completely masked the lie he was telling. Unfortunately, Draco didn''t even seem concerned with him, as his eyes flitted towards Hermione and Ron instead, who had a stiff, thin-lipped expression and an unmasked look of abject horror respectively.


    "That''s quite odd," Draco said, his voice conveying as much of a sneer as his mouth did. "I could''ve sworn I heard Weasley screaming something about a dragon. Perhaps I should get my ears checked, if you''re so insistent that I misheard somehow."


    "Maybe you should," Harry said. "Though I''ll say now that I could name about a dozen more things that are wrong with you. Might as well get a full check-up while you''re at it."


    Though Draco''s smile twitched, the haughtiness in his expression refused to fade in the slightest.


    "I''ll take that into consideration, Potter," he said. "Maybe I''ll include that in my letters to my father. I write to him often you know, mostly to update him on the¡­ current ongoings at Hogwarts. It might seem trivial, but I do quite enjoy it, though I suppose I shouldn''t rub it in your face too much, given the fact that your parents couldn''t be bothered to write to you."


    "Harry, no!" Hermione shouted, grabbing Harry''s robes as he lunged towards Draco with his fists raised. Despite Harry being slightly smaller than her, she seemed to struggle with holding him back.


    Draco flinched at Harry''s sudden aggression, stepping back a few paces in reaction, but quickly gathered his wits, sneering at Harry before looking down his nose at him.


    "Oh, I''m sorry, did I strike a nerve?" he asked.


    "Sod off, Malfoy," Ron said, as he stepped in front of Harry, his previous terror at having been overheard being replaced completely by anger. "Get out of here before I hurt you."


    Though Flynn had the urge to punch everyone there at least once, he couldn''t help but assume that Draco had likely chosen this specific spot so that any conversation he had wouldn''t be overheard by the people in the Potions classroom, but it was still close enough that Snape would definitely be able to hear a fight. With any trace of Hagrid''s dragon gone from the conversation, completely forgotten in favour of holding a pissing contest of insults, Flynn saw no reason to participate and simply walked towards the Potions classroom.


    As soon as he opened the door, he heard Ron''s roar echoing behind him, making the students who had already sat down jump in surprise, and Snape scowl in the direction of the door.


    Flynn let the door close behind him and walked inside to sit down next to Blaise, who glanced back at the door and gave him a questioning look, but Flynn refused to give him an explanation. Snape seemed content with waiting for a few more seconds to see if the problem would just go away if he ignored it, but after a few seconds passed, and the sounds of muffled violence could still be heard through the door, he let out an angry huff and stood up.


    "Be silent and do not touch anything," he said, as he left the room.


    It took several minutes for Snape to come back, and when he did, it was with a scowl on his face, and a distinct lack of Draco or any of the trio. Though there was a palpable sense of curiosity in the air, the deep scowl on Snape''s face made it so nobody in the room was brave enough to ask.


    If Snape seemed more bitter than usual during the next lesson, nobody mentioned it, even though it was admittedly difficult to ignore the way that Neville sobbed openly. With Harry being gone, it seemed like all of his petty anger was being channelled into the sobbing Gryffindor, resulting in his potion blowing up in his face more than a few times.


    Flynn went to visit Hagrid after Potions, and was glad to see that the curtains were shut. Before he could try the door, Fang walked up to him and inspected him for a moment before letting out a big yawn and walking away a few steps before laying down on a large stone that had been warmed up by the sun.


    Realizing that Fang being out of the hut probably meant that Hagrid was out and the dragon was sleeping, Flynn decided not to try the door, not wanting to risk waking the dragon if Hagrid was actually out.


    Not wanting the hut to burn down while Hagrid was gone, and not having anything better to do with lunch break, Flynn decided to stick around until either the lunch break was over or until Hagrid came back. With the ground being wet from the still melting snow, Flynn sat down next to Fang on his rock, to which the big dog let out a small huff, but scooted over to give Flynn some space.


    Not wanting to waste the idle time, Flynn pulled out A Theory of Potions from his bag and started to read. While he usually focused most of his attention on A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells, he usually liked to jot down notes as he read, and he couldn''t do that without a proper surface to write on, and the recent Potions class made it so the subject was fresh in his mind regardless.


    Flynn spent most of his time reading, eating his lunch, and pushing Fang''s face away whenever he started to sniff too close to his pockets, while he waited for Hagrid''s return.


    When he spotted movement from the corner of his eye across the courtyard, he looked up, hoping it was Hagrid, but frowned when he vaguely recognized the silhouettes of two very annoying Gryffindors headed in his direction.


    Shutting his book and putting it back in his pockets, he continued to munch on his chicken as he kept one hand on Fang''s head, pressing him down preemptively so he wouldn''t try to steal his food. Though he kept a sharp eye on Hermione and Harry as they approached, they only seemed to notice him once they were only a few dozen feet away from him.


    "What are you doing here?" Harry said, with some suspicion in his voice when he got close enough that he could be heard without yelling.


    Harry didn''t seem to notice the annoyed look that Hermione gave him from behind, but Flynn was more than happy to glare at him in her stead.


    "What the fuck does it look like I''m doing?" Flynn asked.


    "Have you seen Hagrid?" Hermione asked, cutting into the conversation before Harry could say anything.


    "He''s out," Flynn said.


    Hermione and Harry''s eyebrows shot up, before Harry muttered under his breath.


    "But Malfoy''s in the Hospital Wing!" he said. "How did he manage to report Hagrid?"


    "The fuck are you talking about?" Flynn asked. "I said he was out, not in fucking jail."


    "Oh," Harry said.


    There was a long silence that passed between them, one that Flynn filled by finishing his sandwich, swallowing the rest of it down, before he glared at the duo.


    "Why the fuck are you here?" he asked.


    "We wanted to speak to Hagrid," Hermione said. "We wanted to warn him about Malfoy. It seems like he knows about the dragon, somehow, and Hagrid could get into some serious trouble if he''s not careful."


    Somehow, she said. The thought was almost funny as it was infuriating, though Flynn didn''t feel much like laughing.


    "Somehow?" he asked. "You don''t think your dumbass friend was the one to tip him off? Ron should learn to shut his fucking mouth, or someone will eventually do it for him."


    "Ron wouldn''t tell Malfoy about the dragon," Harry said, visibly bristling with his fists clenched by his sides. "How do we know you didn''t tell Malfoy about it? You are a Slytherin, after all."


    "Harry!" Hermione shouted, but the apologetic expression on her face did nothing to quell the anger that started to gather in Flynn''s body, rising to his head and buzzing in a quiet static.


    Flynn started to clench and unclench his fists subconsciously before Fang let out a low grunt and wriggled free from under his palm. Fang gave him a little headbutt against his shoulder before huffing and shifting around on the rock and sitting back down.


    Flynn glared at Fang, but the dumb dog didn''t give him a second glance as he laid on his side and kicked out his legs so they were resting on Flynn''s lap.


    Flynn growled at the dog, but once it became obvious that he wouldn''t move unless Flynn pushed him away, he stopped, not wanting to waste the energy when there was a much more deserving target for his annoyance.


    Glaring up at Harry, he scoffed at the dumb look on the boy''s face.


    "Ron''s fat fucking mouth was what tipped Draco off," Flynn said.


    "You take that back," Harry said.


    "What, you don''t think I''m fucking right?" Flynn asked. "You''re as dumb as you are deaf if you don''t realize that your boyfriend doesn''t understand the fucking concept of whispering. If he wants to learn, I suggest he starts small by just shutting the fuck up for once in his fucking life."


    "He''s not that bad," Harry said, though he pursed his lips as he said it. "Besides, we still don''t know for sure that you didn''t tell Malfoy in the first place."


    "And you never fucking will," Flynn said. "But if you had half a fucking brain, you''d realize that if I were working with Malfoy, the three of you fuckers would be out of this fucking school by now, rotting in azkaban or whatever the fuck that place is called. I was in the fucking hut when the fucking dragon hatched out of its fucking egg, remember? Or does your tiny fucking brain just not have enough space to remember shit that happened yesterday?"


    Harry scowled, but didn''t say anything as a quiet flush of anger rose to his face. He seemed to struggle with thinking of a response, and Flynn kept his scowl fixed on Harry''s until he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and couldn''t help but be distracted by it.


    It wasn''t every day he saw a man as big as Hagrid skipping, after all.


    He managed to shake himself away from the strangely hypnotic sight, standing up despite the yelped protests of Fang, who had apparently somehow fallen asleep with his legs still in Flynn''s lap and started to walk away.


    Harry seemed like he wanted to say something to stop him, but Flynn walked past him without another word, not bothering to even give him a spare glance.


    "Flynn!" Hagrid shouted out happily, as he got close to him.


    "Hagrid," Flynn responded, though he didn''t bother to stop to talk.


    Hagrid stopped skipping for a moment as Flynn walked past him, but the casual dismissal didn''t seem to be enough to get his spirits down as he continued to skip towards his hut a few seconds later.


    "''Arry! ''Ermione! What are you lot doin'' over here? Don''t ye got classes te go to?" Hagrid said, with a booming laugh.


    Flynn didn''t manage to hear their responses, being too far away to hear them, even if he could hear Hagrid''s booming voice just fine. Regardless, it was obvious what Hagrid was so happy about, and even if he wasn''t sticking around to hear the details, he didn''t really care to know about them.


    His source of exercise was safe, and that was all that really mattered.

 1.15 To help a Unicorn

    Even though Flynn didn''t care at all about the Hogwarts rumour mill, the news of Hagrid''s dragon spread so fast and intensely that it was impossible to avoid hearing. Though the news hadn''t become common until after classes were over, it quickly became the only thing that people were talking about, as the older students debated about whether the dragon would be featured in their Care of Magical Creatures classes, and whether that was a good thing or not.


    Though Flynn didn''t particularly enjoy listening to the other students talking about it, though that could be said for pretty much any other topic of conversation, he had to admit that the permanently pinched look on Malfoy''s face was somewhat amusing.


    At the very least, the trashbag wouldn''t be getting Hagrid into trouble, and that''s all that really mattered in the end.


    "Bye bye, Honey. Mummy will miss you. Don''t go actin up, just cause Mummy''s gone, ye hear?"


    "Little hope of that, Mr. Hagrid," Kettleburn said, with a laugh, as the dragon gnawed loudly on his wooden leg. "But I''m sure Norberta and I will get along swimmingly, regardless."


    Hagrid sniffled, and wiped his nose against his sleeve before giving the Care of Magical Creatures Professor a wide smile.


    "I can''t thank ye enough fer lookin after her while I''m gone, Professor," he said.


    "Nonsense, Mr. Hagrid," Kettleburn said. "I''m always eager to spend time with a dragon, especially one as beautiful as Norberta. You can leave her with me at any time, and I''ll drop everything on my plate to make sure she''s safe and comfortable."


    Kettleburn let out a startled yelp as the dragon yanked hard enough on his prosthetic to pull him off balance, though he managed to reach down and detach his leg before catching himself and rolling away with an amount of speed and ability that was surprising for his age. Though the dragon seemed somewhat disappointed that she wasn''t able to secure a meal out of him, she seemed content with gnawing on the wooden leg that he''d left behind.


    "Ah, what a rascal," he said, though he chuckled as he waved his wand and summoned another peg leg from the pile he had laid out neatly against the wall of his office, and pressed it against his stump. Though there was no mechanism that Flynn could see to attach it, the peg leg managed to stick onto him, as if it had been glued on. "Might need to get another handful of these at this rate. If you boys find any nice sticks during your trip, try to bring them back for me, will you?"


    "Sure thing, Professor. Bye bye, honey. Mummy will miss you!" Hagrid said.


    Thankfully, instead of looping back to thanking Kettleburn for taking care of her for a fourth time, Hagrid actually seemed to be ready to leave this time around.


    "Ye ready to leave, Flynn?" Hagrid asked.


    Flynn gave Hagrid a blank stare, but didn''t bother to state the obvious and simply turned around and walked out of Kettleburn''s office.


    Hagrid continued to worry out loud about his dragon until they made it to the edge of the forest and he suddenly stopped, a serious expression falling over him as he pulled his crossbow out.


    "Alright, listen here, Flynn," he said. "Have I gone over what we''ll be doin, today?"


    "Yes," Flynn replied. "We''ll be hunting whatever''s hunting the unicorns in the forest."


    "Close, but not exactly true," Hagrid said. "We ain''t huntin it. Jus'' trying te figure out what exactly it is. Must be a powerful dark creature if it''s able to hunt a unicorn, after all. Wizards tend te think they''re pushovers, on account of how sparkly they are, but unicorns can be mighty fierce if ye push them into a fight. I don''t want ye te go lookin'' for a fight, ye hear?"


    "What makes you think I''m looking for a fight?" Flynn asked.


    "Lily told me bout the troll, Flynn," Hagrid said.


    "Fair enough," Flynn replied.


    "Good lad," Hagrid said, apparently not realising that Flynn had never agreed to not go looking for a fight. "Now let''s get a move on. We''ll be hunting late in the night, but we won''t be camping out this time round. Keep your eyes sharp and yer ears sharper."


    Unlike the rest of their outings together, Hagrid kept relatively quiet this time around, speaking occasionally instead of chattering endlessly to fill the silence like he usually did. The forest felt different, and despite Flynn''s familiarity with it at this point, he couldn''t help but feel like there was an uncomfortable feeling of tension in the air, though he couldn''t explain why.


    Eventually, Hagrid fell into a dead silence, and with Flynn not talking, the only thing that they could hear around the forest was the sound of their own breathing, as if the insects and bird within it had disappeared.


    It took a few hours, around mid-afternoon, for Flynn to spot something glimmering in the forest shrubbery.


    "Hagrid," he said, keeping his voice low subconsciously, pointing to the bush.


    "Good eye," Hagrid mumbled, before walking closer to the bush. Following close behind him, Flynn focused on scanning around, watching their backs on Hagrid''s behalf as he inspected the bush, until Hagrid tapped his shoulder.


    "Unicorn blood," he said, with a sad grunt as he pointed out the silvery drops of blood that painted a few leaves. "There''s not very much of it, so hopefully the poor thing''s not too hurt, but there isn''t much out there that can wound a unicorn in the firs place. Hopefully we can find it before whatever hurt it has the chance te finish the job."


    For the next three hours, Hagrid and Flynn slowly tracked down the unicorn blood, following along in a vague trail that was nearly impossible to follow, even after Flynn realized he could use the wand-lighting charm at max power to try and catch the small glimmers of unicorn blood reflecting back at him after every couple of feet.


    Hagrid assured him that the slow progress was actually a good thing, since a small amount of blood meant that it probably wasn''t too injured. They stopped to eat a light meal after a certain point, with Hagrid explaining that there was no guarantee that the trail of blood was from a recent attack, since unicorn blood was so full of life that it never dried up, and that it could even be several decades old, since not many creatures could drink unicorn blood without consequence.


    It wasn''t likely that that was the case, since it seemed like the unicorn blood could still be washed away by rain, but Flynn didn''t say anything since it already seemed like Hagrid didn''t believe it himself.


    It was already starting to get dark by the time that they found something, and though Hagrid''s shoulders hunching deeper and deeper as the search went on, Flynn didn''t know for sure whether he was getting frustrated or just tired.


    At a certain point, after being unable to find any more drops for the past ten minutes, Hagrid let out a heavy sigh and tossed his crossbow onto his shoulder.


    "Alrigh'' then," he said. "I think we''ve done enough here. I''d say if a unicorn was hurt, but still had the energy to run for as long as we''ve been trailin'' it, it should be somewhat fine. I did promise te get us back before night, so let''s-"


    There was no sound to warn him, but the sudden flash in Hagrid''s eyes made Flynn whirl around and raise his wand.


    He didn''t have the time to process what he saw, before his mouth started to form a familiar chant, but the familiar glint of sharp metal pointed directly at him was enough for him to let go of any hesitation.


    "Flipendo!" he shouted.


    There was a loud crack, and a flash of light, but it was muffled and muted by the giant hand that had closed itself around the end of Flynn''s wand.


    Hagrid let out a grunt and a hiss of pain as he pulled his hand away from Flynn''s wand, wincing as he cradled it gently in his other.


    "Got sum power there, Flynn," he said, letting out a weak laugh through gritted teeth. "That might bruise something good in the mornin."


    "Hagrid," the creature standing a few feet away from them said. "You have quite the energetic friend there."


    "Might''ve been less energetic if you didn''t greet us with the business end of an arrow, Firenze," Hagrid grunted. "What did ya have to do that fer?"


    Though the stoic expression on the creature''s face didn''t twitch, he nodded and lowered his bow and arrow to the ground and slowly released the tension drawn behind the string. Flynn glared at it, and though he thought that he saw the horse-man glance in his direction for a split second, the horse-man was quick to return his attention to Hagrid.


    "I apologize," the creature said. "I heard you approaching, but wasn''t sure if you were a friend, or if you were a foe. I hadn''t been expecting you to arrive so soon."


    "Ye were expecting us?" Hagrid asked.


    "It was written in the stars," the creature said. "That an evil would touch upon this land, and that a benevolent force would cleanse it. Perhaps it is not you that the stars speak of, but regardless of what they say, I would only assume that the castle is aware of the dangers that lurk within its forests and that you would be sent to investigate it."


    "Well, you assumed right," Hagrid said. "Dumbledore''s sent us on a search for whatever''s been hunting the unicorns in the forest, and we were following a trail of blood when we ran into ye. Any chance ye''ve seen it?"


    In place of an answer, Firenze spun on the spot, shuffling around with his hooves with a surprising amount of dexterity for a creature of his size, and started to walk away.


    "Come," he said. "I will lead you to it."


    Hagrid and Flynn followed the horse-man closely, since he somehow moved so silently that they might''ve lost him if otherwise, until they reached a small clearing where a shimmering white horse laid down on a makeshift bed of foliage.


    As soon as it saw them arrive, it got startled and jumped to its feet, but Firenze was quick to raise his hands, and whisper something to it that Flynn couldn''t quite catch, calming the unicorn enough that it laid back down on its bed of leaves, though it stared wide-eyed and wary at both Hagrid and Flynn.


    "Do not approach," Firenze said, turning his body sideways, as if to block the unicorn''s sight of them as best as he could, though it was a pointless effort for someone as large as Hagrid. "She is not significantly injured, but she is feeling restless after being attacked by a dark being."


    Hagrid bowed at the unicorn, and hunched his shoulders together, as if he was trying to make himself look smaller.


    "It''s good te hear you''re not injured," Hagrid said, talking past Firenze, to the unicorn itself. "I won''t ask ye te let me touch ye myself, seeing as yer already in good hands already, but the people from the castle gave me some ointments that might help with the dark stuff, though I s''ppose Firenze already has that covered."


    "As a matter of fact, I do not," Firenze said. "Your ointments are very much appreciated, Hagrid."


    "I thought ye centaur folks had yer own brand of magical medicines," Hagrid said.


    "We do, but our medicines, as potent as they may be, are designed to heal us from any maladies that the forest and her creatures may inflict upon us," Firenze said. "Though it may be difficult to admit, we do not have much knowledge in treating wounds caused by the dark magicks of man."


    Immediately, Flynn saw Hagrid tense up and a quiet creaking noise echoed in the clearing, as Hagrid clenched his fists together.


    "A wizard did this?" he asked, his voice quieter, but somehow much more intense than Flynn had ever heard from him before.


    "It is very likely," Firenze said, his stoic expression not changing at all at Hagrid''s reaction. "Though her injury was shallow, she continues to bleed despite the wound being inflicted more than two days ago, and the stain of dark magic that remains on her body has caused the rest of her herd to cast her out in fear. She has been isolated, and is constantly leaving a trail of blood for her assailant to track. Such an injury speaks of a malicious creativity that a dark wizard might produce."


    "Nothing else could''ve done it?" Hagrid asked.


    Firenze shook his head slowly. "There are many creatures with similar capabilities," he said. "But rarely will a creature of the wild partake in the blood of a unicorn. The damage to the soul would outweigh any short term benefits that would be achieved by feasting on the life of such a pure creature, though I suppose that also applies to dark wizards. Perhaps I was hasty in my judgement."


    Hagrid opened his mouth, but snapped it shut immediately to shake his head.


    "Doesn''t matter what did or didn''t do it, righ'' now," he said. "We''ll get the smarter folks back at the castle to think about it later. What matters now is makin'' sure that this young''un is safe and healthy. Could ye try the ointments I brought ye, and see if they help?"


    Hagrid slowly pulled out a small cloth bag from his pocket, pausing when he saw the unicorn flinching and only continuing after Firenze calmed her down with a few shushed whispers. Moving slowly as he could manage, Hagrid passed the cloth bag to Firenze and barely even breathed as the horse-man took it and walked over to the unicorn. Though the bag contained a wide assortment of bottles, the horse-man seemed to know what he was doing, inspecting each of the bottles and either placing it down on the floor or putting it back into the bag.


    Once he seemed satisfied with the bottles that he had chosen, he opened them one by one and held them out to the unicorn, letting the creature sniff it carefully while whispering something gently at it. When he finally dipped his fingers into the bottle, and rubbed the ointment onto the unicorn''s open wound, the creature flinched, but relaxed almost immediately afterwards.


    A few minutes passed as Firenze applied the chosen ointments, he inspected the wound again before walking back to Hagrid and Flynn.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "While the ointments have soothed the pain somewhat, the wound continues to bleed and stink of cursed magic," he said.


    Hagrid nodded, and after a moment of thought, he turned to the unicorn.


    "Do ye think ye''d be able to convince her te come closer te the castle?" Hagrid asked. "I don''t know nothing ''bout dispelling curses and such, but I''m certain Dumbledore will know something."


    Firenze''s frown deepened, but he nodded regardless.


    "I will see what I can do," he said.


    Walking back to the unicorn, he had a short and unintelligible conversation with it before the unicorn stood up and glared warily at them.


    "She has agreed to approach the castle, but refuses to exit the forest," Firenze said. "Though your ointments have earned you some of her trust, she is still wary of wizards and is only agreeing to your suggestion because she wishes to reunite with her herd as soon as possible."


    "Tha''s fair enough," Hagrid said, smiling gently at the unicorn despite the shaking fists that he had clenched behind his back. "I only hope ye can go back te your family soon, young''un."


    The unicorn didn''t reply verbally, but she did toss her head back, flipping her mane back with a tangible attitude that was way too haughty to belong on a horse.


    "She does not appreciate being called, young one," Firenze said. "She has long since been weaned off her mother''s milk and is on a complete diet of shrubs and grasses."


    Hagrid chuckled. "Oh, is that so?" he said. "In that case, I humbly apologize, Madam."


    The unicorn let out a huff.


    Flynn was grateful that he managed to navigate the forest well enough that the rest of the group didn''t have to slow down on his account, but they still moved slow enough that night had fallen completely by the time they made it close to the edge of the forest, and the unicorn stopped in its tracks, refusing to take another step forward.


    "We''re almost there," Hagrid said, mumbling in a way that it seemed like he was talking more to himself than he was to anyone else in the group. "Flynn, once we get te the edge of the forest, can I trust ye to get word to Dumbledore?"


    "You''re not going?" Flynn asked.


    "Someone''s got te stay with Firenze and the fine lady, in case something attacks again," Hagrid said. "And if something does happen, I''d rather if ye weren''t around te get hurt."


    "I can handle myself," Flynn said, with a grunt. "But it might be annoying for me to dodge the Prefects and Filch while I try to find Dumbledore."


    "Didn''t I get permission for ye to be out and about past curfew, whenever yer helping me out?"


    "You did, but that doesn''t mean they won''t be annoying about it," Flynn said.


    Hagrid thought about it for a moment before nodding.


    "I hear ya," he said. "Well, in that case, ye''d know what''s best suited for ye. Filch tends te bother me too whenever he can, but I s''ppose the young prefects won''t try te stop me. The idea of leaving ye in the forest does bother me, somewhat, but at least I know ye pack a punch with yer spells."


    In response to the praise, Flynn didn''t have to think twice about denying it immediately, shaking his head.


    "Don''t humour me, Hagrid," he said. "If you really wanted to help the horse, you wouldn''t even ask. You think I''m stupid enough to think that I''m the better choice to stay behind?"


    Hagrid gave Flynn a sheepish smile.


    "Well, I thought that maybe ye''d have more tricks up yer sleeve, being a Hogwarts student and all. Been a while since I''ve been in school and te be honest, I was never too good at it in the first place."


    "I barely know shit," Flynn growled, upset that he was being forced to admit it out loud. "Besides you blocked my best spell with your hand without even flinching, and I doubt I''m strong enough to use your crossbow."


    "I''m pretty sure I flinched at least a little," Hagrid said, though he didn''t seem too confident about it.


    Flynn grumbled something unintelligible before turning around and heading towards the castle.


    Jogging into the castle, Flynn kept his footsteps light as he headed towards Dumbledore''s office, peeking around every corner to make sure that he wouldn''t run into any prefects or Filch. Thankfully, other than a single small detour to avoid a pair of quiet voices travelling down a dark hallway, he made his way to the stone gargoyle that stood in front of Dumbledore''s office.


    It was at that moment that Flynn realized that he had no idea what to do from this point on. Even though he was standing close to where Dumbledore might be, he doubted that he could just walk in uninvited. On a whim, he raised his hand and knocked on the gargoyle''s chest, but other than an unamused glance, it gave him no other indication that it would move for him. But even though it refused to move for him with just a knock, the confirmation that it was sentient, like most of the other objects in the castle, gave Flynn hope that he could at least reason with it.


    "I need to talk to Dumbledore," he said, locking eyes with the gargoyle.


    Unfortunately, the gargoyle''s only response was to break eye contact and look away, pretending to be inanimate once more.


    "Hey, asshole," Flynn said. "Don''t you fucking ignore me."


    When the gargoyle refused to move any more, even when Flynn kicked at it with a heavy stomp, Flynn decided that talking to it might not be a viable option, but with how loosely it covered the opening behind it, he had to assume that Dumbledore''s office might not be completely soundproofed.


    Though he still had Filch and the prefects to worry about, he could only hope that Dumbledore would come out to meet him before they could be attracted by his shouting.


    "Dumbledore!" Flynn shouted, as loud as he could. "Open up! Hagrid needs your help with something!"


    The gargoyle''s lips twisted slightly in an annoyed grimace, but it did nothing to stop him so Flynn continued to shout, ignoring the portraits and ghosts who wandered by to see what the commotion was about. He could hear them murmuring and gossipping around him, but he paid them no attention and continued to shout at Dumbledore''s office, hoping that his voice would reach him.


    It took about five minutes for the gargoyle to shift to the side, giving Flynn a scowl before it did, to reveal a spiral staircase that led upwards. Before Flynn could think to go up it, he heard soft footsteps travelling down and so he waited.


    When Dumbledore reached the bottom of the staircase, he greeted Flynn with a small smile that showed more in his eyes than it did in the curl of his lips.


    "Good evening, Mr. Fredericton," he said. "It''s been a while since I''ve been woken up in such a lively manner."


    Though Dumbledore trailed off, like he was going to continue the thought, he never did and simply stared at Flynn expectantly.


    "Hagrid sent me to get you," Flynn said. "We found an injured unicorn, and whatever medicine we brought with us isn''t working. A horse-man, Firenze, said that it was probably a dark wizard that hurt it."


    Though Dumbledore''s lips remained curled upwards, the smile in his eyes faded immediately. He remained silent for a few seconds before letting out a low chuckle, though it sounded dry.


    "I would suggest not referring to a centaur as a horse-man, at least within their earshot," Dumbledore said, with a wink. "They can be very peculiar about that sort of thing, and it would be wise to keep them as friends if you want to continue visiting the forbidden forest."


    Flynn nodded, but frowned when he realized that Dumbledore wasn''t addressing the immediate issue.


    "So are you coming to the forest, or not?" Flynn asked.


    Surprisingly, Dumbledore shook his head and pulled out his wand instead. "I''m afraid that despite Hagrid''s faith in me, I am not the best choice for solving every problem. Though some may know me as the leading expert in Dark Magicks, it''s more in a capacity of combatting them rather than understanding them. Thankfully, I have the habit of surrounding myself with excellent staff who can make up for my many shortcomings, though I won''t deny the possibility that one of those shortcomings is the fact that my legs refuse to run as well as they used to."


    Instead of elaborating, Dumbledore raised his wand, swirling his wand around in a complicated sequence before whispering the words, "Expecto Patronum" into the air.


    Flynn watched as a silvery shimmering bird erupted from the tip of Dumbledore''s wand and quickly flew down the hall, leaving what looked like silvery wisps of flame in a trail behind it.


    "Professor Snape shall meet you out on the grounds, Mr. Fredericton," Dumbledore said, as he smiled down at Flynn. "Hopefully, we can resolve this all quickly, so you can head to bed as soon as you can. Many of my Professors love to brag about how attentive and studious you are in their classes, and I''d hate it if I were the reason for you to fall asleep in any class that doesn''t belong to Professor Binns."


    Though it was still a Saturday, and he doubted that he wouldn''t be able to recover any lost sleep by Monday, he didn''t see any point in arguing. With a nod, Flynn ran off towards the school grounds, and only ended up waiting for about five minutes before Snape ran out of the gates and spotted him.


    Flynn didn''t bother to say anything to Snape. Already knowing his role, Flynn jogged towards the spot that they''d left the unicorn in, making sure to run slow enough that Snape could still keep up.


    Though it had gotten dark enough that it might''ve been impossible to spot the hiding place if it weren''t for Hagrid''s towering figure waving at them as he held a lantern up in the air.


    "Glad te see ye, Flynn, Professor Snape," Hagrid said.


    "Where is it?" Snape asked, not bothering to return the greeting.


    "It''s jus'' past these here bushes," Hagrid said. "Just make sure not to approach too aggressively. She''s jumpy as it is."


    "I am no oaf, Hagrid," Snape grumbled. "I employ delicacy wherever I can, in all things. How does she prefer to be called?"


    "O'' course, Professor," Hagrid said, with a nod. "She''s a young''un, but she prefers te be called a lady."


    After Snape nodded at him in thanks, Hagrid held back the bushes for them to walk past. True to his word, Snape entered the clearing with his head bowed in respect and his eyes glued to the floor.


    "Greetings, my lady," Snape said. "My name is Severus Snape, and I was called here to assist you in your plight. I am quite versed in the intricacies of dark magic, and am the Master of Potions at Hogwarts, and am a licensed emergency healer, as certified by St Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, giving me a unique insight to what might be plaguing you. I hope that you would give me the honour of diagnosing and treating the wounds that have befallen your fair flesh."


    From his spot next to the unicorn, Firenze frowned.


    "Dumbledore sent a male professor?" he asked.


    Though Snape twitched slightly, he kept his head down in a deep bow. "Is that a problem?" he asked.


    "It very well may be," Firenze replied. "Though unicorns may grow to trust anyone, given enough time, they have their preference for who they will allow to touch them. They are typically adverse to the touch of adult men, unless-"


    "I am very well aware of the specific preferences that unicorns hold," Snape said. Though Flynn couldn''t see Snape''s expression, with how deep he was bowing, it sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth for some reason. "I assure you that I was sent here for a reason."


    Firenze stared blankly at Snape, before glancing down at the unicorn who, though she was still cautious, didn''t seem too put off by Snape''s introduction.


    "I see," Firenze said. "I humbly apologize."


    "Don''t mention it," Snape hissed out, stressing each individual word before standing up and giving both Flynn and Hagrid a glare, for some reason that Hagrid seemed to be aware of, even if Flynn had no idea what Snape was talking about.


    Watching Snape work was both impressive and anti-climatic. After approaching the unicorn, he knelt down to inspect the wound for about two seconds before his eyes went wide and he reached for something inside his robes. When the unicorn twitched at the sudden movement, he apologized before pulling out his wand. After asking for her permission to cast a spell, and receiving a hesitant nod from the unicorn, Snape waved his wand around and slid it over the wound, sealing it up almost instantly. Without even bothering to inspect his work, he stood up, bowed to the unicorn and walked away, sweeping his long flowing black robes behind him.


    As Snape walked past Hagrid and Flynn, Hagrid raised his hand, as if to pat Snape on the shoulder, but seemed to change his mind quickly when Snape gave him a glare that promised death.


    When they left the forest, Hagrid silently slinked away from the group as fast as possible to head towards his hut, while Snape and Flynn continued towards the castle in silence.


    The sound of something akin to the melodic ring of metal of wind chimes mixed with the loud whinny of a horse echoed suddenly in the air, making Flynn and Snape turn simultaneously towards the source of the sound instinctively.


    Standing in the courtyard, just barely outside the edge of the forest, the unicorn stared out at them for a moment, before turning around, sweeping its mane dramatically behind it before disappearing back into the forest. They stared out towards the spot that it disappeared to for a few more seconds before turning back around and walking towards the castle, neither of them caring enough to discuss what had happened.


    Once they got into the castle, Snape spoke.


    "Do you need to be escorted to the Slytherin dorms?" he asked.


    "No," Flynn said simply.


    "Then be off," Snape said.


    "Alright," Flynn said.

 1.16 End of First Year

    Soon after the incident with the unicorn, school life became much quieter but a little bit more hectic at the same time.


    With final exams approaching soon, Hagrid had started to refuse to give Flynn any more jobs, saying that while he was okay with Flynn helping him out throughout the rest of the year, he didn''t want to hurt Flynn''s grades by taking away his study time, and he turned out to be surprisingly stubborn about it. Flitwick had also cut off their usual tutoring sessions, with Flitwick becoming too busy during the exams season to dedicate his time to a single student. Technically, Flynn knew that he could walk into Flitwick''s office and ask him for advice at any time, but with the sudden influx of students who only just seemed to realize that he had office hours now that they were panicking about their finals, Flitwick was always busy.


    Though Flynn hadn''t been happy about the sudden influx of spare time, he filled his time with even more studying.


    The classes leading up to the finals were reduced to review and self-study, with some classes even having optional attendance, so Flynn spent most of his time holed up in his abandoned classrooms, practically nesting in a pile of textbooks and food that he''d hoarded from the plates in the Great Hall.


    A few weeks passed, and the final exams rolled around without much excitement, though he couldn''t help but notice that there were three very distinct and annoying Gryffindors that were missing from the exam hall. Though the rest of the Gryffindors seemed anxious and fidgety, they didn''t seem any more nervous than the rest of the grade, so Flynn assumed that the trio''s absence had a reasonable explanation.


    Shame.


    The final exams started, and though Flynn still had a little bit of trouble with the spellwork in both Transfiguration and Charms exams, he technically managed to complete both of his assignments, even if his snuffbox still had whiskers and his pineapple''s tapdancing had been heavy footed enough that it made a few cracks in Flitwick''s desk.


    Astronomy and History of Magic only involved a pure written exam, and while Flynn didn''t have any real interest in either of the subjects, he felt like he managed to do well enough with how much he''d been studying over the past few weeks.


    Herbology was uncomfortably easy, just like the classes generally were, and with how much he''d been reading from the Potions book that Snape had recommended to him, he felt like the Potions exam went well enough. Since Snape didn''t even bother to glare disdainfully at the potion that he had brewed, merely glancing down at it with a vague disinterest instead, he assumed that Snape agreed.


    For some reason, the Defense Against the Dark Arts exams were cancelled completely, something that a large part of the student body seemed to enjoy, especially since Quirrel''s lessons hadn''t been cohesive enough for them to even guess what he might''ve included on his final exams.


    All in all, Flynn thought he did okay on his exams, though not everyone seemed to agree with his internal sentiment. Among the Slytherin first years, most of them kept up an air of confidence, except for Gregory and Vincent who were loudly moaning about how their allowances would be cut down for their poor performance.


    Though Flynn wasn''t familiar with a majority of the students from the other houses, the few Hufflepuffs that he knew seemed to be split equally in their confidence after the exams.


    "They''re going to kick me out," Lily said, staring blankly into the fire as she stroked the air where Fang had been a moment ago, not realising that he had wandered off into a different part of the hut. "Why didn''t I study? They''re going to kick me out for being dumb."


    "They don''t really kick people out of Hogwarts for having bad grades, do they?" Sally whispered to Flynn, trying not to be overheard by the near catatonic Lily.


    "How the fuck should I know?" Flynn said, not bothering to lower his voice to not be overheard by the near catatonic Lily.


    She didn''t seem to hear either of them regardless, as she continued to pet the air beside her, mumbling to herself about what an idiot she was.


    When the final grades were released about a week later, Flynn was glad to see that he hadn''t gotten a failing grade for any of his classes. His lowest grade was an Acceptable, and he had even gotten an Outstanding in Herbology and an Exceeds Expectations in both History of Magic and Astronomy.


    Even Lily, for all of her doomsaying and whining, managed to get two Exceeds Expectations in both Charms and Potions, which apparently was enough to counteract the Dreadful she got in Astronomy and the Troll in History of Magic.


    Sally''s marks were a little more tame, with Acceptables across the board, save for an Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration, which she seemed satisfied with.


    - - -


    About a week before the last day at Hogwarts, the Slytherin house had fallen into a quiet panic when a hundred and sixty points had been suddenly added to the Gryffindor house point total. With Prefects having their ability to take points away being revoked from them after the final exams were finished, the entire house was trying to think of ways to manipulate the points to their favour so they would win the House cup when the Final feast came around in a week. Flynn didn''t bother paying attention to any of it, not giving a shit about whatever the House Cup was, but on the day before the last day of Hogwarts, he was surprised at breakfast when a small grey owl dropped a letter into his lap.


    "See me at my office. I am available from 10 am until noon. Severus Snape."


    Flynn glanced up at the teacher''s table, but with McGonagall being the only staff member that was there, he didn''t get any sort of explanation for what Snape might want.


    After finishing his meal, he hid away in one of his hideouts to try and take his final notes on A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells to study over the summer, since he would have to return the copy of the book to the Library before he left. After a few hours passed, he left the room, and made his way to the Dungeons to Snape''s office.


    Once he got there, Flynn knocked twice on the ominous black door.


    "Come in," Snape answered almost immediately.


    From the bored tone of his voice, Flynn couldn''t help but assume he wasn''t in trouble, but he forced his face into a neutral expression regardless, not wanting to give Snape any hint as to what he might be feeling. When he pushed open the door, he couldn''t help but feel that his effort was somewhat wasted, as Snape didn''t even bother to look up from the papers at his desk.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Snape said, as he jotted something down on one of his papers, giving him only the barest amount of attention. "I am a busy man, so I will make this brief. As I vaguely recall, you were the one to help bring attention to the fact that a unicorn was injured in the Forbidden Forest, yet you were never awarded the House Points that would be appropriate for such an valiant deed. I simply wished to ask whether you wanted these House Points awarded to you retroactively, or if you simply wish to lay low."


    "Lay low?" Flynn asked automatically, not immediately understanding what Snape was talking about.


    From the way that Snape briefly looked up from his papers to give him a flat stare, before returning his attention to his desk, he seemed a little disappointed by that fact.


    "When House Points are awarded or taken away, it is not announced with any sort of fanfare, but the knowledge of which student was responsible is available for anybody who might be curious enough to check," Snape said, with a bored voice. "This is done so students are encouraged to achieve excellence in the eyes of their peers, and to avoid failure in fear of being shamed. While I will admit that I was rather eager for any opportunity to showcase my superiority over my peers during my own time as a student, I am coming to realise that you are a very different person than I was."


    Snape didn''t give a concrete explanation further than that, but Flynn finally understood what he was asking and why.


    At first Flynn was tempted to say no to the House Points, given that he legitimately could not give a shit about the stupid House Cup, especially with the snot-nosed pieces of shit that occupied his House, but Snape''s final words struck a chord with him.


    While he didn''t care about what the other shits in his house felt about him to expend any energy on them, he wasn''t going to turn down such an effortless way to "showcase his superiority" as Snape said.


    "I''ll take it," Flynn said.


    Snape paused for a split second in his writing, but continued quickly after.


    "Very well," he said, still not bothering to glance up at Flynn. "Sixty-one points to Mr. Fredericton for preserving an important facet of magical culture, and helping save the life of an innocent. Now begone and leave me to my work."


    "Sure," Flynn said, before turning around and walking out of Snape''s office.


    Though Flynn''s house points earned Slytherin the House Cup by fifty-one points, nobody acknowledged him directly for it other than Blaise, giving him a simple nod and a single, "Good show" before never bringing up the subject again.


    Despite that, Flynn could feel several pairs of eyes on him whenever he entered the Slytherin dorms and a blissful blanket of silence falling on anyone who noticed him, saturated with a feeling of mortified gratitude.


    Even Malfoy shut the fuck up for once in his life. Maybe these House Points weren''t so pointless after all.


    At the end of year Feast, one of the few dinners where Flynn''s attendance was mandatory enough that it would be more of a pain to skip it than to participate, the rest of the Slytherin table seemed to adamantly be looking away from Flynn, as if they didn''t want to remember who exactly they owed for their good mood and the green and silver decorations that hung around the Great Hall.


    With the House Cup secured in their figurative pockets, all the anxiety of being down in points for the past week seemed to melt away completely, and all the angry discussions about how Harry and his friends must have cheated to get a grand total of 170 points melted away into snide discussions about how the youngest Weasley must have been playing an entirely different game under the table to make Dumbledore think it was "the greatest game of chess ever played".


    Though none of the other Slytherin first-years besides Blaise, who frowned and stopped eating for about ten minutes, didn''t seem to understand the joke but laughed along and repeated it regardless.


    Though none of the Slytherins were stupid enough to talk loudly enough that the teachers would hear, the Gryffindors definitely heard it, and though Ron didn''t seem to understand either, apparently Fred and George Weasley went on a hexing spree after the final Feast, that earned Gryffindor a total of negative thirty house points to start the next year with.


    When Lily asked him about what the Slytherins were talking about later on in the evening, Flynn decided it wasn''t worth the hassle to explain it to her, and eventually she stopped asking.


    - - -


    The next day, as Flynn, Lily, and Sally sat in the same compartment on the Hogwarts Express on their way home, the train ride was surprisingly quiet. Lily barely said anything for about thirty minutes until she randomly stood up, and grabbed Flynn''s hand to try and pull him up.


    With how weak she was, she could barely make him budge, and when he gave her a blank stare, she gave him an annoyed glare before she gave up on trying to pull him out of his seat. Instead, she turned around and grabbed Sally''s hand, almost making Sally drop her book. Sally seemed confused by the wordless request, but put her book down on her seat let herself be dragged over to the other side of the compartment.


    Lily sat down next to Flynn and pulled Sally down to sit on the other side of her. With Flynn still sitting in the centre of the seat, not moving to accommodate them, the two girls were uncomfortably wedged between him and the wall until he sighed and scooted over to give himself some room.


    Annoyingly, Lily didn''t let him have it, pressing herself against his side despite not needing to, dragging Sally along with her.


    "I had a lot of fun," Lily said. "I''m gonna miss both of you."


    "Aww, Lily," Sally said, pressing herself closer to Lily, pushing the small blonde girl further into Flynn''s side as a result. "I''m gonna miss you too."


    Sally paused, as she seemed to realise something, before she looked up, over Lily''s head.


    "I''ll miss you too, Flynn," she said.


    Flynn scoffed.


    "Fucking idiots," he grumbled. "Summer break is two months."


    "Two months!" Lily moaned. "Don''t remind me."


    Sally giggled quietly enough that he could barely hear it, as he let out a sigh.


    "You''re a fucking idiot," he said again.


    Sally giggled again.


    "I actually live about ten minutes away from King''s Cross Station," Sally said. "It''s in the Muggle part of town, but you''re more than welcome to visit. We could go to the London Zoo or something."


    Lily immediately stiffened and her eyes widened as she stared at Sally with an intense glare.


    "Sally," Lily said. "You''re a genius."


    "You''re a fucking idiot," Flynn said once more, because apparently two times wasn''t enough to get the message across.


    Unfortunately, the only thing he had achieved was to draw attention to himself, causing Lily to immediately start hounding him for his address. After ten minutes of refusing to tell her where he lived, she somehow managed to annoy him enough for him to swear on his life that he would maybe possibly visit her and Sally over the summer break, at least three times, which he had negotiated down from fifty.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Once the hours passed and an announcement chimed out that all students should change into their Muggle clothes if they hadn''t done so already, Flynn was kicked out despite his protests that they were already wearing their clothes underneath their robes and were just going to pull their robes off, and was scolded for improperly undressing in the hallways when he didn''t bother to pull his robes off in the compartment.


    As the Hogwarts Express finally pulled into the station, and an announcement chimed out, wishing all the students a good summer break, Lily led the group out of the train once the initial rush of the more impatient students came to pass, but when she was just about to step off the train, she stopped suddenly, almost making Sally bump into her.


    Flynn was about to ask what was wrong, but Lily seemed to unfreeze herself before he could say anything, though he did notice that her shoulders were noticeably drooping downwards.


    When Flynn stepped off the train, now that he was standing at an angle where he could see Lily''s face, he noticed that she was desperately trying to avoid looking in a specific direction.


    Flynn''s eyes narrowed when he followed the gaze of where she wasn''t looking and saw a man a couple of feet down the platform that he could only describe as being sharp. From his expression, to his neatly trimmed beard and hair, to the rims of his square glasses, the man exuded an air of intense focus as he glared up at the train.


    For no reason at all, as if sensing Flynn''s glare, the man''s eyes shifted sideways without turning his head. He met Flynn''s glare with one of his own, and even from this far away, Flynn could see the man''s eyes subtly twitching as he seemed to scan Flynn quickly, as if doing a quick threat assessment. The man''s glare seemed to intensify to a dangerous point, until suddenly, his eyes widened and he spontaneously started to sprint towards Flynn as fast as he could.


    With the man being too close for Flynn to think of casting a spell, and with the man being wandless himself, Flynn raised his fists in preparation for a fight, but his eyes widened when he realized that the man wasn''t even looking at him anymore.


    Flynn reached out to try and grab Lily before the man could get to her, but he had realized too late. The older man reached out and grabbed Lily around the shoulders.


    And started to rub his cheek against hers?


    "Oh, Lily! My beautiful little flower! Daddy missed you so much," the man shouted out, rubbing his face against hers.


    Flynn simply stared, dumbfounded.


    "Stop it, Dad. You''re embarrassing me," Lily whined, lifting her arm to wedge her hand in between her face and her father''s.


    As suddenly as he had started, Lily''s father stopped rubbing his face against hers and let go of her shoulders to stumble backwards with a look of abject horror in his eyes.


    "What did you just say?" he asked.


    Lily ignored him for a moment, to brush her hair with her hands in an attempt to tame it. She glanced back at Flynn and Sally, but barely gave them a sheepish smile before turning her reddening face away from them.


    "You''re embarrassing me, Dad," Lily said, grumbling up at her father.


    The man fell to his knees, his body growing weak like a puppet with its strings cut as he stared up at her.


    "Dad?" he repeated. "When did you stop calling me, Daddy?"


    Lily turned around immediately, grabbed Flynn and Sally''s hands, and started to pull them away..


    "Lily? Sweetie?" Lily''s father called out. "Where are you going?"


    Lily didn''t answer him, as she continued to wordlessly drag Flynn and Sally further into the crowd, before giving the both of them a red-faced glare, as if to challenge them to say anything.


    Neither of them did.


    Lily didn''t drag the two very far before she seemed to notice someone that made her let out a sigh of relief and loosen some of the tension in her shoulders. Even without following her gaze, it was very easy to assume where she might be looking, given how the woman that sat on the bench reading a book was very nearly a perfect copy of her in every way, except bigger.


    "Mommy," Lily called out.


    Lily''s mother reacted immediately to Lily''s voice, putting down her book and standing up, though she didn''t seem to be able to locate the source of her daughter''s voice immediately. Though Lily pulled at Flynn''s hands, as if to urge him to hurry up, he glared down at her and continued to walk at a steady pace, refusing to run.


    Lily''s mother smiled once she finally located her daughter, and her smile quickly turned into a grin as she glanced at Flynn and Sally before she started to walk forward to meet Lily halfway.


    Lily finally let go of Flynn and Sally''s hands once her mother got close enough and the two shared a hug that was much more graceful than the one that Lily and her father had just shared.


    "Oh, Lily," her mother said. "It''s so good to see you, little flower. Did you have a good trip here?"


    "I did," Lily said, giving her mom a tight squeeze before letting go. "I missed you, Mommy."


    "I missed you too," Lily''s mother said, before standing back up and looking around. "Speaking of which, did you see your father? He was waiting a little closer to the train for you."


    "Nope," Lily said, with a smile.


    "I suppose you must''ve missed him," Lily''s mother said. "Oh well, he''ll come find us on his own eventually. In the meantime, why don''t you introduce me to your two lovely friends?"


    "Oh!" Lily said, starting in surprise as if she had just remembered that they weren''t alone. "Mommy, meet Sally and Flynn. Sally and Flynn, meet my mom."


    "It''s very nice to meet you Mrs. Moon," Sally said, giving Lily''s mom something that looked partway between a nod, a bow, and an attempt to hide herself from view.


    "It''s very nice to finally meet you too, Sally," Lily''s mom said, with a smile and a nod of her own. "But please, call me Olivia."


    Sally nodded, though from the shy look on her face, Flynn doubted that she would.


    "And you must be Flynn," Olivia said, with more of a grin than a smile. "It''s very nice to meet you too."


    "Sure," Flynn replied.


    Olivia laughed at that for some reason, and shook her head with some amusement.


    "He really is exactly like you said, sweetie," Olivia said.


    "I know, right?" Lily asked.


    Flynn scowled at the pair, sensing that he was being made fun of, but that only seemed to make Lily, Olivia, and even Sally giggle.


    It was at this moment that Flynn realised that he had no reason to be following Lily around to begin with, but when he turned around to leave, he nearly bumped into an even more annoying blonde to add to the duo.


    "Liz," he said, glaring up at her in a silent demand not to say anything stupid.


    "Why hello there, Flynn," she said, with a grin that silently refused his demand. "It''s been a while, hasn''t it?"


    "Not long enough," Flynn answered.


    "Ten months felt like ten years without my favourite little boy around," Elizabeth said, with an even wider grin now. "But now that I look at you, I''m starting to wonder if I hadn''t just imagined it. Look at how much you''ve grown. I barely even recognized you, you little rascal."


    Flynn slapped away the hand that reached down to pinch his cheeks, and Elizabeth drew her hand away and started to nurse it with a mocked pain expression.


    "You shouldn''t treat girls like that, Flynn," Elizabeth chided, though she still had a smile on her face.


    Flynn scowled at her, to which Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him, but before he could say anything, Lily popped up between them, staring up at Elizabeth with an expression of awe on her face.


    "Hello," she said. "Are you Flynn''s mom?"


    Elizabeth stared down at Lily with a brief look of confusion in her eyes, before she dispelled it with a smile and a laugh.


    "More like an aunt," Elizabeth said. "But I''m flattered that you thought I was young enough for that, Little Miss."


    Lily nodded to herself. "I thought it was something like that. You''re way too friendly to be Flynn''s mom, unless he gets it from his dad''s side," Lily said.


    Elizabeth let out a loud laugh, drawing a few stares from around the platform. "Very true, very true," Elizabeth said. "I like this one, Flynn. She knows you well."


    "My name''s Lily," Lily chimed out. "And this is Sally. I know Flynn won''t be bothered to introduce us himself, but it''s still very nice to meet you."


    "Wow, you know him really well," Elizabeth said, sounding genuinely impressed as she knelt down and reached her hand out for a handshake. "My name''s Elizabeth."


    Lily ignored the offered hand and gave Elizabeth a hug instead.


    Elizabeth laughed and squeezed Lily tight enough to lift her off the ground a few inches before setting her back down.


    "Oh I really like you," Elizabeth said, squeezing her once more before letting her go completely. "Did you know Flynn doesn''t let me hug him?"


    "Oh that''s a shame," Lily said. "He''s not horrible at it."


    Elizabeth stared wide-eyed at Lily and turned back to stare at Flynn with a look of shock on her face before her lips split in the widest smile that he had ever seen on a human being.


    Flynn immediately turned around to try and walk away again, before he was stopped by yet another person blocking his way.


    Lily''s father stood in his path, with a look of fury and terror in his eyes, that might''ve been more intimidating if his eyes weren''t so puffy and bloodshot.


    "You," he whispered, with the voice of a man close to death. "You''re the little shi-" he coughed, glancing at Lily before continuing like nothing had happened. "shiphead that took my daughter away from me."


    Flynn glanced up at the man, feeling a bone-deep tiredness that made it too difficult to even glare.


    "What the fuck are you talking about, asshole?" Flynn sighed, not even able to summon any bite to the question.


    "Don''t you corrupt my little flower''s ears with that filthy fucking mouth of yours," Lily''s dad growled, his hands shaking as if he were physically restraining himself from throttling Flynn.


    Lily let out a long groan, making her father immediately perk up with concern, seemingly forgetting about Flynn instantaneously.


    "What is it, my little flower?" he asked. "What''s wrong?"


    "Please, just stop," Lily said, letting out an exasperated sigh. "You''re embarrassing me, father."


    Though a few people stopped and stared when Lily''s father seemed to drop dead in the middle of the busy platform, Olivia Moon quickly ensured the onlookers that everything was okay, and eventually pulled out her wand and cast a spell to levitate her husband''s body and positioned him to lie on a bench, so passersby would stop mistaking him for a corpse.


    It was a few minutes after that, that Sally''s parents managed to find her, and introduced themselves as John and Mary Smith. Though they seemed somewhat embarrassed to show up as two very ordinary muggle accountants, with nothing special about them, Sally was quick to give them both a hug and insist that she very much enjoyed the fact that they were normal.


    Though they seemed a little confused, they were quick to exchange phone numbers and business cards with Elizabeth, to Olivia''s confusion. Regardless of her lack of understanding of Muggle communication, the adults (minus Lily''s father, Hugh Moon) exchanged promises to let their kids meet up over the summer, much to Flynn''s disappointment.


    "Can you show me some magic before we go?" Elizabeth asked once they got to her car.


    "We''re not allowed to do magic outside of the school until we''re seventeen," Flynn said.


    "Seriously? That''s a bummer," Elizabeth whined.


    Flynn grunted in agreement. He patted the two textbooks that Hermione had gifted him, as well as the notes that he''d copied from the Spellcrafting guide that Snape had lent him. It wasn''t quite the same as actually being able to cast spells, but he would have to make do.


    After Elizabeth unlocked her car, and started the ignition. Flynn expected her to start driving, but after about a minute of them sitting in silence in the parking lot, he glared at Elizabeth who was staring blankly forward.


    "What?" Flynn said.


    Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head, before finally pressing down on the accelerator and leaving her parking spot.


    "There''s no real ''good'' time to bring this up, so I''ll just be blunt with you," she said, keeping her eyes forward, on the road. "Just know that Jones, Tom, and I all love you very much, and that we''ll do everything in our power to help you."


    "Just spit it out," Flynn said.


    "You know how your orphanage had a policy that the kids have to sleep there a couple of times a week to continue staying there?" Elizabeth asked.


    "Apparently Flitwick talked to her about that after he met me," Flynn said, not failing to notice the use of the word, "had".


    Elizabeth shrugged. "She doesn''t remember," she said. "Or she was drunk and/or high at the time. Is this Flitwick fellow by any chance a gnome?"


    "He''s a midget," Flynn said.


    "Ah, that might''ve done it," Elizabeth said.


    "So I''m homeless," Flynn said.


    "Technically," Elizabeth said. "You know you''re always welcome to stay with any of us. We all love you, Flynn."


    Flynn shrugged.

 2.0 The Summer before Second Year

    "Where''d you sleep last night, brat?"


    On the roof of an abandoned building. The building was three stories tall, and Flynn had to climb the side of the building using a particularly thick looking pipe that ran down the wall. The only door that led to the rooftop was locked, and thick enough that Flynn felt safe enough to trust that nobody would be able to break it down without at least making enough noise to wake him up. The rooftop provided him with no shelter whatsoever, but the summer nights were warm enough that he wasn''t afraid of freezing to death, and he was an early enough of a riser that he didn''t have to be afraid of being cooked alive by the morning sun.


    "Nowhere," Flynn replied, glaring up at Jones. "Why the fuck do you care?"


    Jones scoffed, though Flynn couldn''t be sure if he was trying to act like he was amused or insulted by the question.


    "Awfully presumptuous of you, brat," Jones grumbled, confirming Flynn''s suspicions that it was the latter.


    "That''s a big word," Flynn responded, with a glare. "When did you manage to get yourself a fucking education?"


    Jones scoffed again.


    "Elizabeth was worried sick for you," he said, ignoring the insult and throwing something at Flynn.


    Flynn caught the object and frowned when he recognized the duster that he usually used to clean around the gym.


    "Tell her to fuck off," Flynn said as he ran his finger along the length of the duster and frowned at the ironic layer of dust that he wiped away. "I can handle myself. Why the fuck is this thing so dirty?"


    "You tell her that yourself, I ain''t doing shit for you," Jones grumbled. "And why do you think?"


    "You haven''t been cleaning around the gym," Flynn said, as he looked around to see a healthy layer of dust covering every surface of the large gym, aside from the ring and the area that Tom used to teach his classes. "Lazy bastard."


    "I''m old," Jones said. "And Tom''s too busy."


    "He didn''t quit his job?" Flynn asked, vaguely remembering the life crisis that the older man had been having before he left for Hogwarts.


    "Too busy training," Jones said, gesturing vaguely behind him, in lieu of pointing out a specific spot to clean. "Get to it."


    Flynn glared at Jones, but didn''t waste any more time before he got to work. Cursing Jones as he cleaned the gym of dust, sweat marks, and bloodstains, he worked for a few hours until he heard the heavy metal door to the gym creaking open.


    "Well," Tom said, blinking a few times in surprise. "If it isn''t a familiar face. Back from your magic school already?"


    "The fuck does it look like, dipshit?" Flynn asked, not bothering to even pause his attempts to get a particularly annoying blood splatter off one of the ring''s posts.


    "Ah, there it is," Tom said, with a laugh. "I can''t believe I ever thought I missed you, you little brat."


    "Fuck off," Flynn responded, growling in frustration as he scrubbed harder against the post. "Why the fuck do you bleed so fucking much?"


    "Why do you just assume that''s my blood?" Tom asked.


    "Because you were probably training with Jones," Flynn responded easily.


    There was a short pause before Tom shrugged and walked into the ring, leaning against the opposite post from the one that Flynn was scrubbing down.


    "So," Tom said. "You''re homeless."


    "Fuck off," Flynn said.


    "I didn''t even say anything," Tom protested.


    "Liz already asked," Flynn replied.


    "And so you''ve decided to live with her for the summer," Tom said, his voice both sceptical and hopeful.


    "I''m not a fucking charity case," Flynn growled. "Fuck off and leave me alone."


    Tom sighed.


    "You''re not an idiot, Flynn," Tom said. "You''re not dumb enough to not realize that we care about you."


    "Fuck off," Flynn said, refusing to try and decide whether that was true or not.


    Tom sighed again and shook his head.


    "I always have a free couch for you," he said, though he dropped the subject and didn''t speak up about it again.


    By the time night had come, Flynn had just barely finished cleaning up a majority of the gym. Having spent the entire day doing nothing but clean, he couldn''t help but feel annoyed at Jones for not keeping the place clean at his absence, but when Jones came in around dinner time, with a plastic bag full of meat, he decided that he would keep any criticism to himself until after he was fed.


    Flynn frowned when his stomach growled at the thought of food, annoyed that his stomach had become so spoiled that it couldn''t even handle going a full day without eating before it started to complain.


    Dinner turned out to be noodles and meat, which Flynn wasn''t surprised by. Though it tasted like utter shit compared to the stuff they served at Hogwarts, it had a nostalgic taste to it, and he ate as much as he could manage.


    At the end of the meal, after suffering through several comments from Tom about his weight, Flynn found himself satisfied, but a little regretful that he hadn''t been able to secure any noodles for his pockets. Jones''s humble cooking produced an amount of food that was nowhere close to what had been available at Hogwarts, and by the end of the meal, the plate had been completely scraped clean.


    All in all though, it was a good meal, at least until Jones pulled out his wallet and five twenty pound notes on the table.


    Flynn glared at the old man.


    "What the fuck is that?" he asked.


    "It''s money," Jones said simply.


    "I know what it fucking is," Flynn growled.


    "Then why''d you bother asking, brat?" Jones grumbled back. "Waste of my fucking breath."


    Tom just sighed and reached over the table to gather the plates and utensils.


    "I''ll wash the plates tonight," he said, shaking his head. "Don''t kill each other, you two."


    Flynn ignored the comment in favour of trying to burn a hole in Jones''s forehead with his glare.


    "I''m not a fucking charity case, Jones," Flynn growled. "I don''t need your fucking pity."


    "It ain''t pity, brat," Jones responded, putting his wallet back in his pocket, but leaving the notes on the table. "It''s payment."


    "I don''t need your fucking payment, old man," Flynn said, clenching his fists and barely holding himself back from slamming his hands on the table.


    "Oh yeah?" Jones growled back. "What? You''re too good for my fucking money? You come here, clean my gym, and you think you can just walk away without me giving you something in return?"


    "You gave me dinner, or are you too fucking senile to remember that?" Flynn said. "I clean your gym, you give me food. That''s our fucking deal."


    "Well it''s a fucking shit deal," Jones said. "Most people pay good fucking money for cleaners to do the same shit that you do. Frankly, it''s fucking robbery the way I treat you, and I ain''t a fucking thief, brat."


    From his spot at the dishes, Tom let out a low groan.


    "Can''t you two be a little less embarrassing to listen to?" he asked.


    "Fuck off, Tom," Flynn and Jones said simultaneously.


    Tom sighed again.


    A few minutes passed where neither Flynn nor Jones spoke a single word, the silence between them being broken only by the sounds of Tom washing dishes.


    Eventually, Jones moved first, placing his hand on top of the money, but rather than taking it away or pushing it forwards, he simply didn''t move at all.


    "Listen brat," Jones said, practically spitting out the word. "I''m not looking to get a reputation as someone who doesn''t pay his proper dues. As far as I see it, you''ve got three options. One, you take my fucking money and keep taking my fucking money for as long as you want to come here. Two, you fuck off out of my life and never come back. Or three, you do me a favour and sleep in the gym instead of in the streets and I''ll never mention money in front of you ever again."


    Flynn blinked in confusion at the sudden appearance of a third option, though he quickly recovered and reformed his glare.


    "How the fuck am I doing you a favour by sleeping here?" Flynn asked.


    "It''ll get Elizabeth off my back," Jones grumbled.


    Flynn scowled at the reminder of how annoying Elizabeth had been the other day, nearly bursting into tears when he adamantly told her that he''d rather find a place to sleep on the streets than stay with her. A pang of annoyance ran through him at the memory, and he let out an irritated sigh.


    "Fine," he grumbled. "But if I''m gonna do you a favour, I get to use the equipment in the gym whenever I want."


    "Fine," Jones spat out. "But if you break anything, you''re paying for it."


    "Wait," Tom said, as he dried the last of his plates. "Wasn''t Flynn always allowed to use the equipment in the gym?"


    Jones scowled at Tom and stood up, taking his money off the table and stowing it into his pockets, before rifling through his jacket for his cigarettes. Once he managed to fish one out, he violently shoved it into his mouth and stomped out the back door of the gym.


    Tom sighed and shook his head as the heavy metal door slammed shut behind Jones as he left.


    "Dumbasses," he said. "Both of you."


    All in all, Flynn''s summer was largely uneventful. His daily life consisted of cleaning, helping Tom budget for the gym, and training. Though Tom insisted that Flynn exercise light for now, since his body''s development might be altered if he pushed himself too hard at such a young age, Tom had given Flynn a fitness conditioning schedule that Flynn stuck to almost religiously ever since Elizabeth squeezed his cheeks and called him pudgy.


    Thankfully no such limitations existed on his mind, so whenever he couldn''t train his body, Flynn trained his mind instead. He had all but carved out a designated corner of the gym''s kitchen for himself where he studied his textbooks and his notes, ignoring Tom''s mocking comments on Flynn''s literacy, while Flynn all but memorised his textbooks back to front, even if he couldn''t put the information to practical use until he was back in Hogwarts.


    There were a few days when he was forcibly dragged out of his comfortable daily routine throughout the summer, but none that were too exciting.


    Occasionally, Elizabeth took it upon herself to kidnap Flynn for entire afternoons at a time. Though she had long since moved into a smaller apartment since her kids moved out and her husband died in a car crash, she had apparently been much too busy with her clinic to keep even her small two bedroom apartment appropriately clean. After learning that Flynn apparently exchanged labour for food, she had put him to work in helping her clean her place in exchange for dinner.


    Her cooking was horrible, but Flynn refused to let his work go unpaid.


    Similarly, Tom had tried to pay Flynn with money for helping out with the busier summer classes that the gym held for young kids, but Flynn had gotten his payment in another way. Tom had specifically pulled Flynn into the class to help him tame an abrasive kid around Flynn''s age named Dudley, who apparently refused to listen to any sort of authority figure that was older than him. The pudgy boy seemed to think that he could get away with bullying his peers by throwing around his weight in a literal fashion, until Tom had volunteered Flynn to "spar" with him.


    Flynn held back on Tom''s request, pulling back his punches to the point where they would sting, but wouldn''t bruise. Thankfully, with the thick layer of fat that protected the boy''s body and face, that threshold was still pretty high, and Flynn was still able to take his frustration out onto the pudgy boy. Though it wasn''t quite the same as getting back at the four bastards that had beaten him last year, it was a decent replacement until he could make a plan to get back at them later.


    Strangely enough, the beating seemed to make the pudgy boy admire him as his "rival", and Tom begged him to occasionally show his face to the class so Dudley wouldn''t get too out of control. The constant hounding and trailing from the pudgy boy was annoying, but rare enough that Flynn was able to hold himself back from snapping.


    Speaking of annoying people who liked to cling to his shadow, Lily had somehow managed to establish a pen-pal relationship with Elizabeth, and the older woman was more than eager to pester Flynn to visit her on her behalf.


    Thankfully, Lily only seemed interested in making sure that Flynn kept his promise to hang out three times over the summer, and no more.


    The first visit was actually to Sally''s house, at Lily''s insistence that she wanted to wait for a day that her father was busy with work to schedule a visit to her house. They didn''t spend a long time in Sally''s actual house, since Sally didn''t think there was anything entertaining to do there, but went to the London Zoo instead, like she had promised on the train.


    It was surprising to see Sally talking just as much as Lily for once, and though that was partially because Sally had to constantly slap her hand over Lily''s mouth to stop her from talking about magic in front of the rest of the Muggles that were there, her apparent love for animals made her a lot more animated and talkative than she usually was.


    Eventually, Lily had carved out a day when she thought her father wouldn''t be home all day, and invited Flynn and Sally over to see her house. Unlike the visit to Sally''s house, Lily had no problems with showing off the oddities of her house to her two Muggleborn friends, until her father surprised them with an early return home.


    Even though he clearly hadn''t bothered to visit the hospital after pulling off a solo raid against a small gang of cursed artifact smugglers, he sat on the living room couch, casually cleaning his wand of blood and describing to Flynn how he had hexed the bones out of one of the smuggler''s arms and used the limp tubes of flesh to choke out one of his friends.


    Before he could get into the details of how he dealt with the other five smugglers however, Olivia Moon came over and scolded him for bleeding all over the floors and scaring Sally. Hugh Moon instantly panicked once he realized that Sally was on the verge of passing out at the sight of him, covered in blood, and insisted that he never wanted to scare any of Lily''s precious (female) friends. Olivia barely even seemed to listen to him as she grabbed a fistful of his hair and a fistful of green powder, and threw them both into the fireplace, while chanting a spell.


    Sally went into a minor state of panic when the fireplace erupted into green flames and Hugh''s body disappeared, but managed to calm down when Lily and Olivia explained the concept of the Floo network to her, and ensured her that "Mungo''s" was the name of a wizarding hospital and not a spell to disintegrate unruly husbands into nothingness.


    For the third hangout session between the three, Lily tried multiple times to convince Flynn that he should make things fair and take his turn to host them in his neighbourhood, with some help from Elizabeth, he managed to convince Lily that they should meet up in Diagon Alley instead, since the start of school was approaching, and Sally and Lily still needed to buy their required readings. Unfortunately, since Elizabeth had been the one to coordinate the trip, being the main point of contact with Lily and Sally''s parents, it meant that she had the opportunity to pounce at the first opportunity tag along as a chaperone to Diagon Alley, or Disneyland as she sometimes referred to it as.


    "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," Elizabeth said, practically vibrating on the spot as Flynn tapped his wand against the back wall of the Leaky Cauldron and the first few bricks on the wall fell away to reveal the bright street hidden behind it. "Oh my god, I can''t believe this is really real."


    Around them, a few of the patrons chuckled openly at Elizabeth''s excitement, though some seemed exasperated by it, shaking their heads.


    "First years?" one of the chuckling men asked. "Muggleborn."


    Though Flynn didn''t bother to even acknowledge the question, Sally, who had been handed off to them by her parents since they were too busy to accompany them, shook her head.


    "We are Muggleborn, but we''re in our second year, sir," she said.


    "Huh," the man said, raising an eyebrow and looking at Elizabeth. "Then why''s she getting so crazy? Is it a Muggle thing?"


    Sally glanced at Elizabeth, who was practically salivating as she waited for the passageway to Diagon Alley to fully open. Finding no proper explanation, she looked at Flynn instead.


    "She''s just fucking stupid," he said.


    The man frowned, shaking his head before returning to his drink.


    When Flynn turned back around to look at Diagon Alley, he frowned when he saw just how crowded the streets were compared to the last time that he''d visited to go shopping for his wand and robes. It only made sense, given that he had gone some time in late spring the last time, and now he was going much closer to the school year, but regardless of how much sense it made, it didn''t mean he had to like it.


    When he saw Lily and Olivia standing under the shade of an awning close to the Leaky Cauldron entrance, he glared daggers at them, only to have two nearly identically beaming smiles returned in full force.


    Wincing against the sudden sunlight that shone directly in his eyes, he raised his hand, accidentally waving them over.


    Though Elizabeth and Olivia looked to be at least twenty years apart in age, they fell into an easy conversation like they were lifelong friends, and taking after her mother, Lily didn''t hesitate in hopping up to Sally and Flynn.


    "Hiya Flynn, hiya Sally," she said. "Are you guys ready to go shopping?"


    "Even if I say no, you won''t let me leave," Flynn said bluntly.


    "Of course not, don''t be silly," Lily replied.


    Flynn grunted and mentally braced himself for yet another day with Lily.


    Flynn was glad to learn that Lily and Sally only had one stop that they were actually required to visit for school materials, but was dismayed when he saw exactly how crowded the bookstore was.


    At a first glance, Flynn assumed that the line that formed outside the doors meant that the bookstore was at max capacity, upon closer inspection, he noticed the posters hanging around the bookstore that each showcased a man that kept sweeping his hair to the side as he winked at anybody passing by. The bottom of the poster read, "Meet the most handsome wizard and author in Flourish and Blotts today! Free signature for every purchase of my wonderful autobiography, Magical Me. Autographed photos for a galleon apiece."


    As Flynn watched the entrance of the bookstore, he noticed that several younger students were ignoring the queue and entering and exiting the store without any protest from the people in the line, and with how a large majority of the queue consisted of older women, Flynn assumed that the bookstore wasn''t quite as crowded as the line might''ve suggested, but from a glance at the crowd inside, he still wasn''t happy with the idea of entering such a crowded space.


    Lily let out a quiet squeak of surprise as she nearly stumbled at Flynn''s sudden stop. When she turned to glower at him, Flynn frowned and paused to think for a moment, not realising when he''d subconsciously stopped walking in the first place, and wondering just how Lily managed to grab his hand without him noticing.


    "Hey, why''d you stop?" Lily asked, trying to pull Flynn towards the bookstore without much success.


    Flynn was tempted to admit that he didn''t want to go into the bookstore, and that he would wait outside until Lily and Sally were done shopping, but after looking at Lily''s ignorantly blissful smile, he felt a little stupid for feeling so hesitant about something that Lily didn''t even seem to care about.


    While Flynn would never be stupid enough to put himself in a situation where he was surrounded by so many potential threats in Fredericton, he had to remind himself that he wasn''t there at the moment. Just from looking at how unaware the average wizard was around him, it was more likely that he would be doing the pickpocketing rather than the other way around.


    "Let go of me," Flynn grumbled, shaking Lily''s hand off him.


    "Aww, you finally noticed," Lily said, grinning slyly at him.


    Flynn scowled at her and stormed off, ignoring Lily''s instant demands to slow down to accommodate for her shorter legs.


    The inside of the bookstore wasn''t nearly as crowded as Flynn had imagined it to be. While there was a line of bodies that divided the store in half, like a living wall of swooning middle-aged women, it seemed that the bookstore was keeping the amount of people that were there for the book signing strictly controlled, and there were actually more people in the line outside of the bookstore than in it.


    That wasn''t to say the bookstore wasn''t crowded, with a chaotic mess of Hogwarts students running around, and storms of books being pulled from the shelves by young store clerks with tired looks in their eyes, but it was a lot less that Flynn expected. Though the speed that his eyes darted around almost made him dizzy, as he tried to make a mental note of the other customers, and how likely each one of them seemed to be a threat to him, it was manageable. Just like the last time that he''d visited Diagon Alley, he had been amazed by how little wizards seemed to pay attention to their surroundings. It was especially true in the bookstore, as most of the people there seemed to have their attention caught by the flashing lights of cameras in the large corner of the room where the blonde man from the posters was smiling, his white teeth reflecting and scattering the light across the entire store.


    Flynn grunted as something crashed into his back, and he whipped around quickly to face the threat that he''d somehow missed, but found himself scowling down at Lily and Sally who was close behind, but had reacted fast enough to not crash into her.


    "Watch where you''re going," he said.


    "You''re the one who stopped suddenly," Lily replied.


    Flynn''s scowl deepened further when he realized that he had no response to that, but instead of admitting that she was right, he turned around and stomped off. Unfortunately, the store was too crowded for him to walk very quickly without having to push people aside, so Lily had no trouble with keeping up with him.


    "Our books are probably that way, Flynn," Lily said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him towards the section of the store that had a waving banner with the words "Hogwarts Textbooks: All Years" written over it.


    Flynn glanced at the chaotic horde of students surrounding the area, and grimaced at the idea of subjecting him to the crowd for no reason. His textbooks would be loaned to him through the school year by Hogwarts, just like First Year, and though the worn pages were barely readable in some sections, he didn''t think he would buy any new textbooks even if he had the money for them. He was used to secondhand books, and why buy something when you could get it for free?


    Flynn shook his hand to dislodge himself from Lily''s grip on his sleeve. Turning away from the look of mock betrayal she gave him, he shook his head before she could ask her question.


    "I''m good for books," he said.


    "You bought them already?" Lily asked.


    Flynn shrugged and walked away without elaborating. Once enough time had passed, he glanced back to make sure that Lily and Sally weren''t being trampled in the crowd of impatient Hogwarts students that he''d left them behind in, and once he saw that they were fine, he turned back around and wandered into the rows of bookshelves that were relatively abandoned compared to the rest of the store.


    Now that he didn''t have anyone to distract him, he slowly started to realize that this was possibly the first time that he''d ever gone into a bookstore in his life. Given the fact that he had the Hogwarts library to compare it to, he couldn''t think of it as being anything particularly special, but the idea that all the books that surrounded him were actually worth money was something that annoyed him profoundly.


    He saw the other patrons in the store casually grabbing books off the shelves, leafing through them, putting them back, and otherwise acting like the books already belonged to them. Flynn couldn''t be sure if they could only act like that because they were rich, or because that was just something you could do in a bookstore.


    Flynn glared up at the bookshelves, not staring at any book in particular, but his focus was taken away from the shelves anyways when he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. A young wizard, probably an older student if Flynn had to guess his age, stared down at Flynn from a large basket that floated slowly past the shelves.


    Flynn pretended not to notice him, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but the older boy floated closer still. Flynn kept his arms stretched out in a way that casually showed off his empty hands in a way that wasn''t unnatural, not wanting to deal with the annoyance of being accused of stealing, but the store clerk called down to him anyways.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    "Hey, you there."


    Flynn grimaced and looked up at the boy, but surprisingly enough, now that he was looking directly at him and not out of the corner of his eye, the older boy wasn''t looking at him with any sort of accusation in his eyes. If anything, he just looked a little bored.


    "You need help getting something off the shelves?" the older boy asked. "Most of these books are enchanted so you can''t use magic to grab em, so if you''re looking for something, you gotta ask."


    Flynn glared up at the boy, but couldn''t summon any real heat behind it as his annoyance was quickly fading into confusion at the unprompted offer for help.


    "Just browsing?" the boy asked, pushing through Flynn''s silence. "Looking for recommendations? I might be a part-timer, but I know a bunch of good books. Ravenclaw."


    "Charms," Flynn responded.


    "OWL stuff?" the boy asked.


    "Basics."


    "Oh," the boy said. "Then in that case you probably don''t need my help. The easier books are all in grabbing range. You should find a bunch of good stuff on charms in the next row over."


    Flynn nodded, but didn''t move from the spot, still too confused by the situation to respond to it in any way.


    "Is that all you''re looking for then?" the boy asked.


    "Yeah," Flynn said.


    "Alright then," the boy said, with a shrug. "If you need anything else, don''t be afraid to holler. I''ll take any excuse to not go anywhere near Lockhart''s signing."


    And with that, Flynn finally understood that the boy was just using him for his own benefit, and things finally started to make sense again. Though he still had to admit that it was a very strange feeling for any shop clerk to pay him any attention except to give him the stink eye and stare daggers at his hands whenever they came close to any merchandise that wasn''t bolted down, it at least made sense that this random store clerk was treating him so politely when he was using him as an excuse to avoid doing his job.


    Turning away, Flynn walked towards the next row of books like the boy had indicated, and found an entire section dedicated to the basics of charms. While he obviously didn''t have any money to actually buy anything, he figured that he could dedicate any interesting titles to memory, and see if the Hogwarts library would have any copies to borrow.


    At a certain point during his search, the same boy from before floated by, and on a whim, Flynn picked one of the books off the shelves and leafed through the pages like he owned it. Watching the store clerk''s reaction out of the corner of his eye, he was surprised to see that the older boy barely paid any attention to him, giving him a glance but otherwise passing over him without even bothering to give him even a single ounce of suspicion.


    After the boy floated by and left his sight completely, Flynn kept standing there with the open book sitting awkwardly in his hands, before he scowled and put it back into its place on the shelves, not knowing what he had even been trying to achieve with his little experiment. Walking away with nothing in his hands, a few of the other patrons glanced at him as he passed by, but didn''t bother giving him a second look before returning to whatever they had been doing before.


    He headed out of the store, but paused at the exit, as if expecting someone to stop him. When nobody did, he stepped out of the door and had to shield his eyes as the light of the sun threatened to blind him, but he received no other consequences for leaving the store unharassed.


    Frowning to himself for no reason, he noticed Elizabeth waving at him from her spot in the queue to Lockhart''s book signing.


    "Hey Flynn," she yelled. "Where are Lily and Sally?"


    Rather than shout back, he jerked a thumb towards the bookstore. In response, Elizabeth rolled her eyes and said something to Olivia, who was standing beside her. Olivia seemed to enjoy what she said, laughing and shaking her head before waving Flynn over.


    Though he didn''t particularly enjoy being beckoned at like a wild animal, he walked over, not having any reason to refuse.


    "You shouldn''t leave two ladies on their own like that, Flynn," Elizabeth said, reprimanding him with a mock sternness as soon as he got close enough. "It can be dangerous for two cute girls to be wandering around on their own, you know."


    "They''re in a fucking bookstore," Flynn responded, earning him more than a few stares from the other middle-aged ladies that were in the queue, though Elizabeth only gave him an exasperated look and Olivia laughed quietly into her hand.


    "Well, you should still be a gentleman about it, Flynn," Elizabeth said, placing her hands on her hips.


    "Oh don''t be so hard on him, Liz," Olivia said.


    "He just doesn''t know how good he has it," Elizabeth said in response, shaking her head solemnly before staring back at Flynn. "Liv and I are going to stay in line for the book signing, but from how slowly this thing is going, I doubt we''ll be finished anytime soon."


    "And I''m sure none of you three are interested in waiting around for us adults," Olivia chimed in, with a smile that looked suspiciously like it was hiding a laugh behind it. "The bookstore might not be so dangerous, but I''d feel a lot more comfortable knowing someone with a level head is watching over my daughter and her friend while they wander Diagon Alley."


    Flynn glared at Olivia, not at all amused by the blatant manipulation.


    "Don''t fuck with me, you old bitch," Flynn said. "Just because I promised Lily I''d hang out with her, doesn''t mean I''m her personal bodyguard."


    Not at all bothered by the swearing, Olivia only laughed. "But you will be accompanying her."


    "She''ll be even more of an annoying bitch than she already is if I don''t," Flynn responded, with a grunt.


    "You''re a very cute boy, Flintstone Fredericton," Olivia said, with another laugh.


    Flynn felt his face glowing hot with annoyance and he glowered at her one last time before turning to stomp away, but she stopped him before he could get too far.


    "Wait, Flynn," she said.


    Flynn glanced back at her, only to furrow his eyebrows when she held out a small leather pouch towards him.


    "What the fuck is this?" he asked.


    "It''s a small coin purse," Olivia replied casually, as if there was nothing wrong with that statement. "And inside is enough money to buy three double scoops at Florean Fortescue''s, plus some change."


    Flynn narrowed his eyes into a sharp glare.


    "I''m not a fucking charity case," he growled.


    "Of course you''re not," Olivia replied simply. "I''m not giving this to you Flynn. I just want you to deliver it to my daughter, if that''s okay with you."


    Flynn kept his glare trained on Olivia for a few more seconds, before his gaze dropped onto the coin purse, still held aloft a few feet away from his face.


    "Why don''t you just give it to her yourself?" Flynn asked.


    "Knowing her, she might just fly onto the streets after she buys her books without even bothering to drop by," Olivia responded, with a shrug. "Besides, I trust you."


    Flynn glared at Olivia for a few more seconds before reaching out quickly and snatching the coin purse from her hands before she could realise how stupid she sounded. Turning away, he stomped away without caring to check her reaction.


    When Flynn finally located Lily and Sally, they were both trying and failing to haul their bags filled with books until Flynn grew annoyed by the sight and grabbed both of their bags and slung them across his shoulders. Although he thrusted the coin purse into Lily''s face immediately afterwards, demanding she take it, after she demonstrated how shallow her pockets were and how easily the coin purse would be lost if she carried it, he shoved it back in his pockets with an annoyed grunt and accepted his fate as the mule for the day.


    Soon after, Lily dragged him and Sally to Florean Fortescue''s and after she convinced him that she had to give him something in exchange for carrying her bags all day, he discovered what a "double scoop" and brain-freeze were, to the amusement of both of the girls that he was with and to the annoyance of Florean Fortescue after the resulting string of swears that erupted from Flynn''s mouth.


    They went to a candy shop after Flynn accepted that Lily hadn''t been trying to poison him, and despite her insistence, he managed to refuse her proposal to buy him something. Even without his help, Lily and Sally managed to buy enough candy to spend the rest of the money that Olivia had given them, though there was enough that they couldn''t eat it in one sitting, Sally stashed away some of the candy in her pockets, excited at the prospect of giving her parents their first taste of wizard candy.


    Even without any more money, Lily still somehow managed to drag them around Diagon Alley, shamelessly dragging them into different shops to just look at the merchandise, as if she were trying to give them a tour of the entire street, although the exploration was stopped short when Sally discovered the Magical Menagerie and refused to leave until she said hello to each of the animals that were living there.


    By the time they were done with their tour, it had gotten dark enough in Diagon Alley that the streetlight had turned on, and they had to wander around a bit before they heard Elizabeth and Olivia cackling loudly as they talked outside a small cafe.


    Though the two women seemed just as regretful to leave as the two girls, they eventually parted ways as Olivia and Lily made their way to a public floo portal, and Sally went with Elizabeth and Flynn, back out the Leaky Cauldron to the muggle part of town.


    Elizabeth drove Sally to her home, and though Sally''s parents offered to have them for a cup of tea, Elizabeth thankfully declined with how late they ended up staying in Diagon Alley.


    "So, how was your day?" Elizabeth asked, once she and Flynn were alone in the car, headed back to Fredericton.


    Flynn shrugged in response.


    - - -


    Spellcrafting was a subject that many wizards tended not to explore, for several reasons.


    The primary reason for this, strangely enough, was a lack of usefulness. While many might assume that the ability to spellcraft also results in the ability to do anything that the crafter can imagine, the same was already true through spellcasting as a whole. Wizardkind had existed for long enough that often, a spell that one might seek to invent had already been created by someone else. Even if the spell was specific enough that it had been largely forgotten to time, the task of searching through existing records for the specific incantation and wandwork was still often much less taxing than attempting to create the spell entirely from scratch.


    Furthermore, in addition to the effort involved in creating a spell, there was also a factor of danger involved with the creation of a new spell. It wasn''t uncommon for spellcrafters to suffer permanent injuries or even die from a failed attempt at casting a spell with a flawed design, and the possibility that one could die from what many viewed to be an unnecessary hobby was often enough to push away all prospective spellcrafters aside from the truly motivated.


    That being said, it wasn''t as if all endeavours of spellcrafting involved a risk of death. Spellcrafting in and of itself shouldn''t be considered to be inherently dangerous, and was actually an incredibly common practice for wizards thousands of years ago.


    While wizards are eager to share their knowledge in modern times, thousands of years ago, even when magic schools like Hogwarts were in existence, spell knowledge was much more coveted and closely guarded, and fledgling wizards would often be forced to reinvent what modern wizards might think of as common spells from scratch. Not only did this force wizards to develop their spellcrafting skills in tandem with their spellcrafting, but it ensured that they started small, and the smaller the spell, the smaller the consequences of failure.


    It was only when one considered these factors, in relation to the art of spellcrafting in the modern wizarding age, that it becomes apparent as to why spellcrafting is considered and has become a more dangerous endeavour.


    With a lack of necessity for the art comes the lack of importance in fully understanding it. The modern spellcrafter may skip several steps in the learning process that would otherwise be a requirement for the wizards of olde.


    Nowadays, wizards are allowed a lack of experience when crafting spells, due to the countless amount of instructional tomes that were written on the subject, but with a lack of experience comes a lack of understanding one''s own limits. Modern spellcrafters tend to begin their journey with the goal of creating a never before seen spell that they can sell for gold and glory, and may ignore their limits in pursuit of such a goal, whether they are ignored consciously or unconsciously.


    "Hi Flynn. Can I sit down, or are you busy?"


    Flynn glowered up at Sally as she held the door open, standing awkwardly outside of the train compartment as she stared at the chaotic spread of loose papers that Flynn had laid out across the seats.


    Flynn briefly considered shooing her away, but with an internal sigh, he decided it would be more trouble than it was worth. Besides, unlike Lily, he could trust Sally to stay quiet. All he would be doing was giving up some seat space.


    "Close the door behind you," Flynn said, as he grabbed a handful of the less important notes that he''d taken on Spellcrafting, and shoved them back into his bag, clearing a small space for her. "Don''t touch anything."


    Sally didn''t seem to fully understand what he was doing, but didn''t seem too bothered by that fact. She entered the train compartment and sat down on the spot that Flynn had cleared for her.


    "Why are you sitting on the floor?" she asked.


    "What does it look like?" Flynn asked back.


    Sally glanced around the train compartment again, as if she hadn''t fully taken in the sight of Flynn''s notes yet.


    "Are you studying?" she asked.


    Flynn didn''t bother to acknowledge the question with a response, turning his attention back to the notes, reading through them yet another time, as if it would give him a burst of inspiration.


    All throughout summer, Flynn had been mentally preparing himself for the moment that he would be allowed to practise magic again. Though the main reason that he''d arrived at King''s Cross station three hours early was more because of Elizabeth''s excitement than his own personal choice, he had still been eager to finally put his readings to use and finally begin his first attempts at spellcrafting. Unfortunately, now that he actually had the chance, he found himself paralyzed with indecision on what he would attempt first.


    According to the author to A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells, the first spell that a novice spellcrafter should attempt to create should be a very basic one, though it was often difficult to "recreate" a spell that one could already cast, which made it difficult for more experienced wizards to learn spellcrafting. Thankfully, with only a handful of spells that Flynn could honestly say that he "knew" that wasn''t much of a problem, but with so many options to choose from, he had trouble deciding on just one.


    After rereading his notes over one last time, he couldn''t help but focus on how hard the author stressed the idea that new spellcrafters should focus on creating a spell that''s basic for their first attempts. While a spellcrafter shouldn''t try to reinvent a spell that they already knew, since their preconceived notions on how the spell "should" work might taint the creation process, it wasn''t a bad idea to build on a spell that one was already familiar with, and while Flynn had been wrestling with a handful of ideas for entirely new spells that he could create, there was really only spell that he could claim to be completely comfortable with.


    Though he''d already toyed with the idea of a spell that was adjacent to the knockback jinx over the summer, he continued to toy with the idea some more before deciding on the most simple idea he could think of. He wasn''t arrogant enough to claim that he''d mastered it, but the knockback jinx was by far his best spell. Maybe the idea of a "pull-forward" spell that applied the knockback jinx''s force in the opposite direction was a little too basic, but he had a feeling that the author of the spellcrafting guide would approve.


    As Flynn started to scan his notes for a refresher on the next steps to actually crafting the spell now that he''d decided on what it would be, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sally''s eyes darting back and forth between Flynn and the view outside of the window. With there being nothing to see, aside from the unmoving brick wall of the train station, he doubted that she was as entranced by the sight as she was pretending to be.


    With a sigh, he decided that a small train compartment might not be the best place to practise a new spell anyways, especially one with enough power to theoretically match his knockback jinx.


    "What?" Flynn asked. "Spit it out."


    Sally gave a start, like she hadn''t expected to be caught staring. She turned her head slightly away, but seemed to decide against it before she could fully hide away.


    "I got a pet," she said, shyly. "Is it okay if I let her out? It might be a little stuffy for her in my pocket."


    Flynn narrowed his eyes at her, before he glanced down at his scattered notes.


    "Oh, she probably won''t move around much," Sally said, before Flynn could move to clear them away. "She''s pretty lazy so she''ll probably just stay on my head or my hands."


    Flynn glared at her, but continued to gather up his notes anyways.


    "I''m not doing this for your stupid pet. I''m just done for now," Flynn said.


    "Oh, so you do want to see her?" Sally asked.


    "I don''t care," Flynn said, with a glare. "Do whatever you want."


    Sally stared at Flynn blankly, before reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling something out enclosed in her fist. Without any further fanfare, she turned her hand around to reveal a small frog.


    "Flynn, meet Ms. Garfield. Ms. Garfield, meet Flynn," she said beaming down at the small creature. "Isn''t she beautiful?"


    Flynn glared down at it with a frown, and the frog stared blankly up at him with no signs of intelligence in its eyes.


    "It looks fucking stupid," Flynn said.


    Surprisingly, Sally glared daggers at him, before cupping the frog in both hands and bring it closer to her face.


    "Don''t listen to him, Ms. Garfield," she whispered. "He''s just jealous of your beautiful orange colouring. He''s used to being the only ginger in the group, and doesn''t want to share the attention."


    "It doesn''t even have hair," Flynn said. "And it''s also fucking brown."


    Sally shook her head solemnly.


    It didn''t take long for Lily to board the Hogwarts Express and join them in their train compartment, showing off the excitement that Flynn hadn''t over finally being able to meet Ms. Garfield in person. Though she didn''t seem to understand why Sally kept stating that Ms. Garfield hated mondays and loved lasagna.


    Unfortunately, when Sally proudly said that it was a muggle joke, but Flynn confessed to not understanding what the fuck she was talking about, the train compartment of three devolved into chaos, completely destroying any hopes that Flynn might''ve had for a quiet ride.


    By the time that the train stopped at Hogwarts, Flynn had started to sincerely regret deciding not to practise his spellcrafting, with the thought of being knocked out violently by a flying object sounding like a mercy at this point, but unfortunately he remained conscious the entire way. By the time they exited the train and were taken to the castle in carriages drawn by what looked like zombie horses, rather than the boats they had taken in the previous year, Flynn was glad to be finally rid of Lily and Sally when the students were directed to sit at their respective tables according to their house.


    Aside from a, "Had a pleasant summer, Lord Slytherin?" from Draco, and a few chuckles from his goons as always, nobody paid him much mind until after the Sorting had ended and the feast had started.


    "Not interested in my summer, Fredericton?" Blaise asked, not even glancing in his direction as he grabbed a salad bowl from the air. "I was involved in many social events, rubbing elbows and making connections with some of Europe''s finest, if you would care to know."


    "Why the fuck would I give a shit about that?" Flynn asked, catching a plate that held an entire roast chicken on it before it could crash violently down in front of him in its excitement.


    Blaise let out a sigh that sounded more relieved than anything else.


    "Thank you," he said, before not exchanging a single word further with him for the rest of the dinner.


    When dinner ended, the first years were gathered together by the two fifth-year Slytherin prefects, one of which he recognized as being Lord Dipshit, and the other being a girl he was confident he had never seen before. Lord Dipshit didn''t seem to notice Flynn or the glare and the silent promise of retribution that he sent his way, but didn''t care enough to stick around long enough to make sure the message was received, and joined the rest of the Slytherins on their way to the dorms.


    Unlike for the first-years, there was no fanfare or introduction to the dorms before the Head Boy just shouted the password loud enough for the crowd to hear to open the door. Though some of the students immediately went to occupy their favourite spots in the common room, most of the students headed to their respective dorms.


    Flynn was among the many that rushed towards their dorms, hoping to take a shower before their peers, surprisingly enough, he found himself being blocked by Gregory, who was wearing a confident smirk.


    While it seemed like Gregory had hit a major growth spurt during the summer and was slowly catching up to Flynn in height, Flynn still towered over him, so he couldn''t help but stay on guard, not quite understanding what this sudden show of confidence was about.


    Not interested in starting an unnecessary fight when his head was still ringing from the aftermath of Lily''s babbling, he glowered down at Gregory.


    "What the fuck do you want?" he growled.


    While that might''ve been enough to scare the boy off last year, Gregory barely even flinched, and if anything his smirk grew even bigger.


    "You think you''re so special, don''t you, Fredericton," Gregory said.


    Flynn didn''t bother acknowledging the comment with a response, simply staring down at Gregory, though he almost broke eye contact when he noticed Malfoy in the corner of his eye, who looked completely caught off guard by Gregory''s actions.


    Flynn narrowed his eyes dangerously, making sure to keep his eyes on Gregory''s hands, in case the sudden growth in confidence was a result of him buying some sort of weapon.


    "Oh, you noticed, didn''t you, Fredericton," Gregory said, with a laugh that sounded too goonish to be sly. "I''m better than you now."


    Gregory quickly shoved his hands in his pockets, but Flynn had been waiting for Gregory to act. Drawing out his wand from where he had discreetly moved it to his sleeve, he held it up between Gregory''s eyes and let his magic course through it, the tip of his wand pulsing with the promise of violence.


    Most of the other boys in the dorm scrambled and yelped in surprise, but despite flinching at the suddenness of Flynn''s reaction, and raising his free hand in surrender, Gregory didn''t lose his smirk completely and kept his other hand firmly in his pocket.


    "Don''t be so jumpy, Fredericton," Gregory said, with a smile. "You''ll embarrass yourself."


    Flynn didn''t speak, and simply narrowed his eyes as he watched Gregory slowly withdraw his hand from his pocket.


    Flynn couldn''t decide whether to lower his wand or immediately blast Gregory in the face when he saw what the boy took out of his pocket.


    "That''s right, Fredericton," Gregory said, holding up a chicken drumstick triumphantly up in the air. "My robes are enchanted with a space expansion charm for my pockets, as well as a charm to keep food fresh. I can hold ten times as much food as you can, and for ten times longer!"


    Flynn felt his face twist up into an expression that he couldn''t even guess as to what it might look like, at the annoyance that he''d actually spared Gregory a second of thought. Putting his wand down, he walked past Malfoy, who had his face held in his hands, and Vincent, who was staring enviously at Gregory''s robes, before opening the door to the bathrooms and heading to the showers.

 2.1 Talking to professors

    Gilderoy Lockhart was a man that promoted camaraderie and kinship in a way that had never before seen in the History of Hogwarts, or at least in the History of Flynn''s attendance. Never before had a Hogwarts professor inspired such a drive for collaboration, that entire houses came together to seek his approval.


    That was to say, because it was quickly discovered that the content taught in Lockhart''s lessons (or public masturbation sessions rather) were identical across every year, an anonymous Slytherin had gotten fed up with Lockhart''s lessons enough that they had posted a board up in the common room where people were encouraged to share answers and notes on Lockhart''s tests and assignments.


    Flynn wasn''t sure if the other houses had similar operations going on in their common rooms, but Flynn could spot a handful of incredibly annoyed older years doing their best to enchant Lockhart''s books to vomit out the answers to Lockhart''s questions whenever prompted, collaborating on the project out of a collective sense of shared spite.


    Even Flynn, despite his ambivalence to the concept of house pride, had enough distaste for the flamboyant fraud that he had done the research necessary to answer four of the questions that were pasted on the Lockhart Board, before he felt like gouging his eyes out.


    Unable to take the sight of the Lockhart Board anymore, Flynn stomped through the halls of Hogwarts to try and think of ways to forget the fact that this year''s Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was somehow even more of a fraud than the previous one. While the thought of finding an empty classroom to start blasting furniture with the knockback jinx appealed to him for a moment, he knew it wouldn''t give him more than a few minutes of relief, so he headed towards a classroom that he hoped would be occupied instead.


    Once he arrived in front of the door of a professor he actually respected, he knocked on the door, and was glad to hear a quiet, "Come on in" from inside.


    Contrary to his worry that he would be an annoyance if he came into office hours, only four days into the school year, Flitwick''s mouth split open into a wide smile at the sight of him.


    "Ah, Mr. Fredericton. Come on in, come on in," Flitwick said, waving him over to his desk. "I was hoping I would see you soon."


    Flynn narrowed his eyes immediately and took a half step backwards.


    "That is, of course, because of the odd quirk to your spellcasting that we discovered a little before the Christmas break last year, when you demonstrated your first use of the wand-lighting charm, something that I had taken a personal interest to," Flitwick said, with a flat stare. "Nothing nefarious, I assure you."


    Flynn nodded, accepting the explanation and stepping forward again.


    Flitwick gave him another flat stare before coughing into his hand and continuing.


    "Anyways," he said. "While I was unable to look too deeply into the subject during the school year, I had enough free time this summer to research the issue a little further. My search led me to some very interesting theories, and through my research, I was able to gain a greater understanding of magic as a whole, so I must thank you for that, Mr. Fredericton."


    Flynn frowned.


    "Thank me for what, exactly?" he asked.


    "For your presence, I suppose," Flitwick said casually. "Now let''s not waste any time. I''ve discovered a theory that might be relevant to your situation over the summer, and I''ve been dying to share them with you and see what you think about it."


    Flynn''s frown deepened.


    "Why would you want my opinion?" Flynn asked, not understanding what the hell Flitwick was even talking about.


    "Why would I not?" Flitwick asked back, with a chuckle. "From what I''ve seen, you''re a very intelligent and driven young man. I would be foolish not to pick your mind for ideas. It''s a common tactic I used in my own career as a student at Hogwarts. I was never a model student, so I relied on others to carry me forward."


    Flynn raised an eyebrow at the claim.


    "You''re a professor," he said simply.


    "I wasn''t always one," Flitwick said, with a laugh. "Though I''d have to say that becoming one hasn''t changed my studying habits much, if at all. I became a professor more through happenstance than anything else, and though I''ve been in this position for decades now, I''ll admit that it''s difficult for me to read through anything that doesn''t involve duelling. Still, the education of the next generation was something I was entrusted with, so I suppose I have the responsibility to try my best."


    "Duelling?" Flynn asked, the single word grabbing his attention for some reason.


    "A wizarding sport," Flitwick said, waving his hand and trying to dismiss it with feigned nonchalance, like he was embarrassed to have brought it up. "But enough about that. I''d get too caught up trying to explain it, and I''m certain you''re just as curious as I am about the peculiarities surrounding your magic to listen to an old man rant."


    The answer to that was obvious, but Flynn was surprised by how curious he was about whatever duelling might be. Still, the prospect of understanding his magic better was enough to force him to nod.


    "Yeah," Flynn said. "What have you got?"


    Flynn wasn''t sure if he imagined the brief look of disappointment he saw on Flitwick''s face when he dropped the subject of duelling so easily, but even if he hadn''t, the expression fell from Flitwick''s face quickly.


    Despite Flitwick''s claims that he wasn''t a stellar professor, Flynn had always thought that Flitwick''s lessons were easy to follow. Even if he did tend to speak too "posh" for Flynn''s tastes, Flitwick still managed to keep his lectures concise and to the point, making them easy to follow along and remember without much effort. Even when Flitwick talked about a more complex subject than his typical Charms classes, one that the professor was clearly less familiar with, it was still easy to follow along with his train of thought, regardless of how much it sounded like unstructured rambling.


    According to Flitwick''s research, some researchers claimed that magic could generally be divided into different categories in a wide variety of ways. For example, many modern practitioners tended to define spells as belonging to the category of Charms, Jinxes, or Hexes. There were many different definitions that one could give to different categories of spells, but one particular researcher that held Flitwick''s interest, seemed to claim that there was only one way to categorise spells.


    All spells could be divided into three distinct categories, depending on what they were designed to affect.


    Creatures, Objects, and World.


    Other than the fact that the author''s leading theory was based around a rather unattractive acronym, whether it was created intentionally or not, Flitwick assumed that the main reason why this particular researcher''s theories never gained much popularity was the fact that he was a horrible writer.


    Flitwick admitted that the author''s ramblings became increasingly more difficult to follow, as the majority of his research papers simply analysed common spells by placing them into one of the three major categories, but dividing them further into about ten different sub-categories each. Though interesting at first, Flitwick admitted that he might''ve simply dismissed the author completely if it weren''t the last article that he had published.


    The article claimed, with an almost whiny insistence, that the categorization of spells was NOT useless, and that it WAS important in understanding the application of magic as a whole, and after waffling about the subject for several pages, the author finally started to discuss the topic of specialisations.


    It was well known in the wizarding world, that wizards could excel at a certain brand of spell, and be mediocre in another. Ultimately, it wasn''t a new concept, but unlike many other articles that touched on the subject, the author didn''t just reference famous human wizards when discussing these specialisations. Unlike many existing articles on the subject of why wizards could be more talented in some types of spells over others, this author didn''t limit his explanations to wizards, but extended his theories to magical creatures as well.


    According to the article, wizards didn''t have specialisations because they didn''t have any inherent limitations. Relative to the rest of the magical world, human wizards were jacks-of-all-trades when it came to magic, and to see what a true specialisation looked like, one would have to look to magical creatures.


    House-elves, for example, were specialists in Creature and Object magic, with a sub-category specialisation in focus, kinesis, and translocation magic. A house-elf could effortlessly apparate themselves, and use levitation magic that would make even the most skilled wizard jealous, but they were incredibly limited in all other facets of magic.


    In general, the author claimed that a large majority of magical creatures had a similar set of limitations, with only a few exceptions. This list of exceptions included phoenixes, dragons, unicorns and thestrals. With the exception of thestrals, the author claimed that the relative lack of specialisation was the exact reason why the parts of these three creatures were commonly used as the cores for wizards'' wands.


    Although the author continued to state immediately after that, following a similar logic, wand-makers should experiment with using human organs to create even more powerful wands, which probably explained why this was the last article he ever published, Flitwick admitted that everything that was said before that point had some merit to it.


    Flitwick admitted that he was personally intrigued by the theories, due to his part-goblin ancestry, which could explain why he had so much trouble learning Charms, or Object and World spells with a subclass of modification, manipulation, and enhancement, as the author might put it.


    "I hope I''m not being rude, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick continued, coughing into his hand. "But are you possibly aware if either of your parents had any sort of magical blood in them? It could certainly explain why you are currently having a similar experience to myself during my schooling years, even if it may not explain the specific oddity you have with your wand."


    Flynn glared at Flitwick, for the implied insult, but lost any heat behind it when he saw how Flitwick seemed more uncomfortable with the question than he was. Though he didn''t lose his frown, he directed it away from Flitwick, giving a shrug to the empty air beside him.


    "I never knew my parents," he said.


    "I will admit I was already aware of that," Flitwick responded quickly. "I was simply asking in case you had any inkling of¡­" Flitwick trailed off, coughing into his fist and averting his eyes completely away from Flynn.


    Flynn couldn''t help but feel a sense of annoyance growing inside him as he watched the old professor fidget awkwardly on the spot.


    "I have a troll-heartstring wand," Flynn offered.


    "Of course!" Flitwick said, immediately jumping at the offered change in topic, before he seemed to process what Flynn said and raised his eyebrow in surprise. "A troll-heartstring wand, you say?"


    Flynn shrugged, not willing to repeat himself pointlessly.


    "A troll-heartstring wand," Flitwick repeated, murmuring to himself more than he was to Flynn. "I''ve never heard of such a thing. Would you be amenable to me inspecting it for a moment?"


    Flynn couldn''t stop himself from glaring at Flitwick in an almost automatic response at the idea of giving up one of his possessions, but before he could actually say or do anything in response, Flitwick raised his hands in surrender almost immediately.


    "On second thought, forget I asked, Mr. Fredericton. It was just a passing curiosity, as I cannot claim to be knowledgeable in wandlore. I doubt I would learn anything even if I were to inspect your wand."


    Flynn didn''t drop his glare against Flitwick, but he did manage to notice the white-knuckled grip he had around his wand, still hidden in the pockets of his robes. Gingerly, with some effort, he managed to relax his grip around it, though he didn''t let go of it completely.


    There was a tense silence that hung in the room, though it didn''t last long before Flitwick cut through it forcefully.


    "Perhaps it would be better if I suggested an experiment the other way around," he said, with a strained smile and his hands still held in the air.


    When Flynn refused to respond, Flitwick continued.


    "Why don''t you try using my wand instead?" Flitwick asked. "Holly, Unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches. She was rather surly when I first got her, but she''s softened up over the years so I don''t think she''ll complain about someone else using her for a bit. Though it might be strange to use a wand you''re not familiar with, maybe it could help us determine whether your unique brand of spellcasting is an effect of your wand, rather than yourself."


    Flynn felt a twinge of annoyance passed through him at how casually Flitwick could offer him his wand. A small part of him couldn''t help but feeling so embarrassed for being so protective of his own wand, even though he knew that Flitwick was the stupid one for offering up something so important to a mangy street rat like him without hesitation.


    Still with his hand gripping his wand in his pockets Flynn reached out wordlessly with his free hand. Without hesitation, Flitwick reached into his own robes and slowly pulled out his wand and laid it gently in Flynn''s palm with both hands.


    "Now why don''t we try the very same spell that sparked this entire¡­ situation?" Flitwick asked. "A wand-lighting charm, if you would, please?"


    Flynn glared at Flitwick, considering the idea of telling the Professor not to tell him what to do, but decided against it, directing his attention towards the new wand instead. He frowned when he realised how strange it felt.


    Flitwick''s wand was thinner and smoother than his own, and had an intricate series of spiralling designs carved into its handle, rather than the barebones design of Flynn''s own wand, if one could even call it a design. It had a weight to it that couldn''t be attributed to its mass, more of a sense of power rather than anything physical, but it still somehow felt¡­ quiet.


    Flynn felt a faint thrum travel through his other arm, the one that was still gripping his own wand in his pocket, and frowned when he realised why the new wand felt so strange. While the thrum of magic that coursed through him whenever he gripped his own wand wasn''t anything new, the steady rhythm usually faded into the background of his mind, like a heartbeat.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Letting go of his own wand, the sensation of it in his hand commanding too much attention for him to focus on Flitwick''s wand, the sudden absence of it felt like a void, one that the new wand couldn''t fill.


    "Mr. Fredericton?" Flitwick asked, drawing Flynn out of his focus. "If you would?"


    Flynn glanced up from the wand to see Flitwick glancing nervously at his wand, his hands fidgeting by his side. When Flynn realised how hard he was gripping the wand, he immediately forced himself to relax, and Flitwick''s tight expression relaxed almost immediately with it.


    "Lumos," Flynn said quickly.


    Flitwick made a quiet sound of surprise as a ball of light emerged from the wand, floating a few inches away from the tip.


    "A bit unsteady, but a textbook display of the wand-lighting charm otherwise," Flitwick said. "With none of the oddities that you displayed previously. How curious."


    Flynn barely paid attention to Flitwick''s words as he frowned at the ball of light that floated in front of him, not completely certain as to why he felt so uncomfortable with it, but knowing for a fact that it felt wrong somehow.


    Without a word, he cut off the flow of magic circulating within him, and the ball of dim light faded from existence. He wordlessly thrusted Flitwick''s wand back at him, waiting until the professor took it back before taking his own wand out of his pocket and holding it up in the air.


    Almost immediately, Flynn felt a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over him as a thrum of magic echoed through him and his magic started to flow within him, flowing freely between his body and his wand.


    "Lumos," he said, and immediately, his magic responded, coalescing in the tip of his wand in the form of light, his wand working as a part of him, not simply as a tool that he was using to translate his magic into the world.


    "I suppose there was some merit to the theory that your wand is contributing to the oddities of your spellcasting," Flitwick mused, as he stared at Flynn''s wand, squinting against the intensity of how bright the wood shone.


    Flynn stared at the light, realising with some surprise that the magical light was somehow refusing to blind him, despite its intensity.


    "I''m not gonna replace my wand," Flynn said.


    "I wouldn''t dare to dream of it," Flitwick said, with some surprise at the suggestion. "But it is important to identify the source of your oddities, if you hope to master them."


    Flynn nodded at the professor.


    The look of surprise that appeared on Flitwick''s face a moment wasn''t at all unwarranted, especially since it''s more or less exactly how Flynn felt himself as he extended his hand to Flitwick, offering his now unlit wand towards the professor.


    "Here," Flynn said, before he could take back the offer. "Take it."


    "There''s no need for that, Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said. "As I said, it was nothing more than a passing curiosity on my part. It was a faux pas for me to suggest that you lend me your wand in the first place. A wizard should not be so easily parted from his wand."


    Flynn glared at Flitwick, immediately annoyed at the professor''s casual admittance that he''d been doing Flynn a favour by lending him his wand.


    "Take it," Flynn growled, practically shoving his wand into Flitwick''s face with a renewed intensity, not wanting to owe the professor an unpaid favour.


    "Are you certain?" Flitwick said, leaning warily away from the wand, though that might''ve been out of a desire to not have his eye poked out, rather than him simply not wanting to take the wand.


    "It was stupid of me to not give it to you in the first place," Flynn said, glowering at the professor for making him state what he now realised was obvious. "I should''ve trusted¡­ that you wouldn''t risk your job by stealing from someone like me."


    Flitwick blinked a few times, before a slow smile started to appear on his face. Flitwick quickly suppressed it when Flynn frowned at him, but while his mouth fell into a flat line, the sparkle in his eyes was still present.


    Flynn didn''t comment on it, and Flitwick responded to his silence by nodding and extending both of his hands forward, with his palms facing up.


    Though a small part of him felt a sudden twinge of anxiety at the idea of parting with his wand for the first time since he''d gotten it, he wasn''t about to go back on his word either. Carefully, he placed his wand in Flitwick''s hand, almost taking it back with Flitwick''s fingers slowly wrapped around it, but eventually he let go.


    Aside from holding the wand in a gentle grip, there was a momentary silence as Flitwick simply stared down at the wand. Flynn suddenly grew nervous at the professor''s inspection, especially when a look of steady confusion grew in his expression.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Flitwick said slowly and quietly, frozen in place like he was afraid of something happening if he made any sudden movements. "Is your wand normally this¡­ warm?"


    Though Flynn didn''t quite understand what Flitwick was talking about at first, he wondered if Flitwick had a point. While he didn''t have much to compare it to, only handling a few wands for less than a few seconds in Ollivanders''s shop, Flitwick''s wand had felt oddly cold in comparison, and while he wouldn''t describe his wand as being "warm" exactly, it did match his own body temperature perfectly, adding to the feeling that it was an extension of himself, rather than a simple tool.


    Flynn shrugged, though he wasn''t sure if Flitwick noticed.


    "Ollivanders did mention that my wand might have some life in it, whatever that means," Flynn said, with another shrug.


    Flitwick stared at the wand for a long moment before holding it out for Flynn to take it back.


    "How interesting," Flitwick said, when Flynn grabbed his wand back and stowed it back in his pocket. "You are quite the intriguing child, Mr. Fredericton."


    Flynn shrugged, not knowing how else to respond.


    - - - - -


    When Snape asked Flynn to stay behind after Potions, the first class of the day, Flynn hadn''t known what to expect. When Snape walked into his office, and brought out a large cauldron with a dull orange liquid bubbling inside of it, instructing Flynn to stir it slowly, counter clockwise, making one full rotation with the stirrer every four seconds, Flynn still had no idea what was going on, but followed the instructions dutifully.


    Though Snape had no comments on the way that Flynn was stirring the potion, meaning that he was satisfied, he started to speak regardless.


    "That there is a flesh-restoring potion," Snape explained. "It needs to be stirred for another ten minutes without pause for it to be fully realised, and once it is bottled, you will deliver it to Groundskeeper Hagrid. It seems like the buffoon of a man managed to not only purchase a bottle of highly volatile flesh-melting ointment, thinking it was flesh-eating slug repellent, but also managed to get a significant dose of it on his hands. His bare hands, mind you."


    "I''ll be missing out on my next class," Flynn said, though he had no complaint behind his words. The second class of the day was with Lockhart.


    "I shall write you a note," Snape said. "Unless you feel that doing manual labour for your head of house is beneath you."


    Flynn glared at Snape, who sneered back at him, before returning his attention to his potion.


    As Flynn continued to count in his head, timing his stirring as best as he could to one rotation every four seconds, he was surprised when Snape broke the silence with a cough.


    "Speaking of classes," Snape said. "I will be asking you a few questions. I expect you to answer truthfully."


    Flynn glanced up at Snape, but returned his attention to his cauldron, still counting in his head.


    "Sure," Flynn grunted.


    There was a short pause, with Snape possibly waiting for a more eloquent answer, before he seemed to decide it was enough.


    "Now that the Slytherins share their Potions classes with the Hufflepuff students for your second year," Snape said dryly. "It seems that you were quick to abandon your previous partner in Mr. Zabini, and have instead chosen to collaborate with Ms. Moon."


    Though it was more of a statement than a question, there wasn''t much reading between the lines that needed to be done. Still, Flynn glared up at Snape.


    "Is that a problem?" he asked.


    "That depends on your reasoning," Snape responded, glaring down at Flynn with a mirrored intensity. "I do not tolerate laziness in my classes, Mr. Fredericton, and I will especially not tolerate a student of my house partnering up with a semi-competent potions student from another house with the intention of riding on their coattails."


    Flynn blinked up at Snape, losing his glare in his confusion for a moment.


    Snape frowned and pointed down at the cauldron, making Flynn glance down to see the orange hue of the potion slowly fading into a dull grey. Restarting the count in his head, he focused on stirring the potion at a steady pace until it returned to a more acceptable colour.


    "I ain''t trying to get carried," Flynn grunted, not taking his eyes off the potion as he gave his answer.


    "Then why, pray tell, have you changed partners?" Snape asked.


    "Because she''ll hunt me down and annoy the crap out of me if I don''t," Flynn grumbled. "If you want to force her to partner up with someone else, be my guest. You''ll be doing me a favour."


    There was a short silence before Snape spoke again, his sneer so sharp that Flynn could hear it in his voice, even without looking up.


    "I do not do students ''favours'' Mr. Fredericton," Snape said. "I will be taking five points from my own house for your use of language, and I expect you to continue partnering with Ms. Moon for your cheek. In addition, I expect you to take charge of your partnership, to prove to me that you are not slacking off. Your performance in potions was middling at best last year, Mr. Fredericton, but not exceptional enough that I can give you a free pass this year. Perhaps you should consult some supplementary readings to ensure that you don''t disappoint me entirely."


    A wave of annoyance ran through him at the suggestion, and confident that he had revived the potion enough to take his eyes off it for a moment, looked up to glare at Snape.


    "It''s not my fucking fault that reading a book can''t make me a good at potions," Flynn snapped. "I''ve read A Theory of Potions twice already. Fat load of shit it did for me."


    Snape narrowed his eyes at Flynn, seemingly searching for any hint of a lie in his eyes, but after a moment, Snape clicked his tongue and pointed his finger at Flynn''s stirrer. When Flynn felt the utensil resisting his hand, he let go and watched the stirrer swirl around in the potion at a steady pace, rejuvenating the greyish hue into a brighter orange almost immediately.


    "I suppose your written work is more than adequate," Snape said, with an annoyed sigh. "Perhaps an understanding of theory would have diminishing returns if your main problem is your lack of everything else that goes into crafting potions."


    Flynn scowled in response to the casual insult, but Snape paid him no mind as he continued to stir the potion with his finger. After a moment of relative silence, he drew out his wand from his robes and waved it, summoning two bottles from a nearby cupboard.


    "Potion crafting requires precision, finesse, and intuition, to a degree that cannot be achieved so effortlessly, bar for the exceptionally gifted," Snape said, as he gestured with his hands and lifted the cauldron into the air.


    "So you''re saying I should practise more," Flynn said, frowning at the generic advice.


    "That depends entirely on what you mean by practise," Snape scoffed, tipping the cauldron over and pouring it into one of the floating bottles in a steady stream. "I would not dare to trust a second-year student to practise the art of potion-making unsupervised, and I am far too busy to watch over you. Perhaps a student of your standing would benefit from learning these skills elsewhere and translating them over, instead of making a mockery of the art of potion crafting directly."


    "Oh yeah?" Flynn asked. "And how exactly would I do that?"


    Snape sneered in response.


    "There are many ignorant people in this world who compare the art of potion crafting to that of cooking, and while it is an insult to suggest that the menial work of a house-elf could ever compare to that of a potions-master in terms of importance, I suppose there are some parallels to the specific skills that are involved in the mastery of both, with a difference in the scale of importance of course."


    Flynn frowned at Snape, but before he could say anything, Snape waved his hand and wand simultaneously, tilting the cauldron back up and summoning a cork to stopper the bottle. Waving his wand again, he summoned a large container of clear liquid and poured a small amount into the second empty bottle, before putting a cork in that one too.


    Snape grabbed both bottles out of the air and held them out towards Flynn.


    "Deliver these to Hagrid immediately. The potion deteriorates quickly after it is formulated and sealing it only slows it down somewhat. The second bottle contains something that will help reduce the pain of the potions effects, but is optional to take, depending on Groundskeeper Hagrid''s wants. And make sure to take this with you as well," Snape said, waving his wand one last time, a small quill on his desk scribbled something on a loose piece of parchment, before the parchment floated directly at Flynn.


    "Flinstone Fredericton is excused from the entirety of his 2nd period class with Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, due to pre-existing responsibilities.


    - Professor Severus Snape"


    Flynn stared at the note, and decided not to point out the fact that delivering the potion to Hagrid would likely only take him fifteen minutes at most, and not the entire period. Glancing back up at Snape, he saw the potions master was already sitting down at his desk, reading through the materials that were scattered over it.


    Flynn said nothing as he left the classroom, carrying Hagrid''s potions with him, and Snape didn''t acknowledge him leaving except to close the door behind Flynn as he left with a wave of his wand, to the chagrin of the seventh year students that were waiting outside of the classroom, still waiting to be let in for their second period class.

 2.2 Another Halloween, and a little beyond

    The worst part of Halloween to Flynn, at least conceptually since he''d never actually gone before, was the idea of the Halloween feast. While it was difficult for him to be disappointed by the idea of bigger meal, the wizarding obsession with drowning out any "food" that had the word pumpkin in it with a bathtub full of sugar and only adding a pinch of pumpkin to give the food an orange colouring was something that he had never fully adapted to.


    With his usual desire to avoid large crowds, combining with his desire to keep his teeth from rotting out of his mouth without having to pay for a dentist, skipping the Halloween feast was a given. Just like the last year''s Halloween, and also every other day of the school year, Flynn spent the breakfast hoarding enough food to last him the day, with the only noticeable difference in his food being the tiny decorations of bats and pumpkins that had been coloured into the bread of his sandwiches.


    He had planned to have a nice meal alone in an abandoned classroom, with a textbook in his lap, but his plans were put on hold when, in his last class of the day, Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, Lily gave him a note from Hagrid, that had been delivered to her by owl in his absence.


    The note was a simple one, with Hagrid simply asking Flynn to come drop by the Hogwarts vegetable gardens after his last class, if he was free, as soon as possible, but no rush.


    Flynn hadn''t looked too deep into the contradicting messages, but even if he had, he doubted that he would''ve expected the utter chaos that the vegetable gardens had devolved into. Despite the partial nonchalance that Hagrid had portrayed in his note, Flynn found himself stepping into a warzone.


    Dressed in a gardening apron, thick clothing, and what looked like a beekeeper''s hat, and armed with two oversized spray bottles in each hand, Hagrid sprayed down an army of enormous slugs that were the size of small dogs and had a translucent flesh-like colouring to them. Though the slugs moved slowly, with how many of them there were, Hagrid was only barely able to hold off the massive wave of slugs. Though whatever was in the spray bottles seemed to be highly effective, causing the slugs to shrivel up and practically disintegrate if even a drop of the liquid mist hit them, the slugs didn''t seem to care and continued to advance over the bodies of their dead, pausing only to consume what was left before continuing on.


    When Hagrid finally noticed Flynn and a look of intense relief washed over him.


    From the very brief shouted explanation that Flynn got from Hagrid, it seemed like this is what Hagrid had been doing since lunchtime. Though he had applied the flesh-eating slug repellent (or the flesh-melting ointment, rather) to the surface of the oversized pumpkins they''d been growing in the vegetable garden, eliminating any hint of flesh-eating slugs during most of the school year so far. Unfortunately, it became apparent that a surviving population had taken shelter underneath the pumpkins and had started a sizable colony there. When Hagrid picked them, exposing them to the world and releasing them from their state of semi-dormancy.


    While Hagrid had held on for the past few hours by throwing old food to distract them, it only gave Hagrid enough time to load up his bottles and to write and send his note, before the slugs finished Hagrid''s food and started heading for the chicken coops. Though they generally weren''t a threat, since they were slow enough to walk away from them without any real effort, Hagrid had found himself pinned for hours, as he protected the chickens, and his spray bottles were nearly empty.


    Glaring at the slugs for daring to threaten his supply of chicken, Flynn jumped into the fray without hesitation, and with the opportunity to reload the spray bottles and a second man to shoot, Flynn and Hagrid were slowly able to push back the horde of slugs.


    After reloading Flynn''s spray bottles, and filling up two more by his side just in case, Hagrid entrusted Flynn with protecting the coop while he delivered the pumpkins to the Hogwarts kitchens for the Halloween feast. Flynn had been forced to give up a good portion of his pocket food to lure back a handful of slugs that tried to wander away from the horde, but by the end of the hour, Hagrid had finished delivering all the pumpkins and they were able to eliminate the last of the infestation together.


    Though Hagrid offered to have Flynn sit at his home for a moment, just to take a moment of rest after their battle, an unfortunate stroke of luck had Hagrid accidentally spray his own hands with the flesh-melting ointment that they had been using to destroy the slugs, and with a pained apology, Hagrid rushed into the castle to find Snape.


    Not having anything else to do, Flynn scanned the vegetable garden and the area around the chicken coop one last time for any signs of surviving slugs, before he went back to the castle. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he was disappointed to find that he had used up most of his food reserves. Though he had mostly lost track of time during the battle against the slugs, it had gone on long enough that he couldn''t help but assume that the feast was almost over, though he might be able to catch the tail end of it if he was lucky.


    But when he heard a familiar set of voices travelling through the halls, he couldn''t help but think that maybe he shouldn''t rely on luck for anything.


    "We might make it for the end of the feast if we hurry. Pudding might not be finished yet."


    "I can''t believe you''re still hungry after sitting around rotten food for hours. I don''t know whether to be impressed or repulsed."


    "I''d rather be full than either of those things," Ron grumbled, as the trio turned the corner.


    Though Ron was looking down at his stomach, as he rubbed it forlornly. Harry and Hermione seemed to notice Flynn from down the hallway, both of them freezing in their tracks for a moment. Hermione was quick to snap out of her surprise and give Flynn a smile and a wave, but Harry stayed where he was, giving Flynn a complicated expression that he couldn''t interpret from the distance they were standing at.


    "Hello, Flintstone," Hermione called. "Have you finished eating at the feast already?"


    Ron''s eyes shot upwards at the mention of his name, widening in recognition when they landed on him, before darting back to Hermione.


    "What are you doing, Hermione?" he asked.


    "What does it look like, Ron?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes so intensely that Flynn could see it clearly even from so far away. "I''m saying hello."


    "But he''s a snake," Ron replied. "He''s an enemy."


    Hermione let out a sound that sounded halfway between a sigh and a groan.


    "Ron, we''ve been over this," she said. "Being a Slytherin doesn''t automatically make him a bad person."


    "Listen to yourself, Hermione," Ron said, utterly scandalised by the suggestion. "You know every single dark wizard in history has been a Slytherin."


    "That is quite literally untrue," Hermione responded.


    "Really?" Ron asked, frowning. "I''m sure I remember Hagrid saying something like that last year."


    "And as great of a person Hagrid is, I wouldn''t exactly assume he''s well studied," Hermione said. "And if we''re going on his word, remember that he said that Flynn was the only reason he was able to keep Norberta."


    "Norberta?"


    "Hagrid''s dragon."


    "I thought his name was Norbert."


    "They discovered that she was a girl, after Professor Kettleburn gave her a check-up."


    "Professor Kettleburn?"


    "The Care of Magical Creatures professor," Hermione said, with a sigh. "You really ought to be more aware of what goes around you, Ronald."


    "Well, it''s still a menace," Ron said, trying to ignore the comment entirely, though his ears were tinged with a hint of red. "That thing almost bit me, remember? No matter how much Hagrid likes it, I''m not sure you can exactly call letting him keep a dragon at a school a good thing."


    "Then what about the unicorn he helped save?" Hermione asked, with a flat stare. "Surely you won''t suggest that saving a unicorn somehow feeds into Flintstone''s master plan to sow chaos in Hogwarts."


    Though Hermione gave Ron a smug look, clearly feeling triumphant in her argument, Ron was able to shatter her confidence with a blank stare and two words.


    "What unicorn?"


    Flynn stared at the bickering duo for a few more seconds before he started to wonder why he had stopped for them for so long. He had better things to do than listen to them.


    Unfortunately, as he started to walk away, the trio somehow decided that that was the signal for them to follow him to the Great Hall. Not wanting to speed up and potentially imply that they mattered to him in any way, Flynn was stuck listening to the pair''s arguments as their voices echoed through the hallway.


    "I still don''t see why you have any reason to persistently be so rude to him," Hermione said, continuing to talk as if he weren''t in earshot. "It''s not like he''s done anything to you."


    "He''s a Slytherin," Ron said, with an exasperated sigh, as if it explained everything. "Have you already forgotten how terrible those folk are? Don''t you even remember the awful word that Malfoy called you recently? He''d probably call you the same thing, if he bothered to actually say anything."


    For the first time since they ran into each other, Harry contributed to the conversation by coughing awkwardly as Hermione laughed.


    "Oh, Ronald," Hermione said. "That was the worst possible argument you could''ve made."


    "What do you mean?" Ron asked, suddenly cautious of Hermione''s tone.


    Hermione laughed to herself, and didn''t offer an answer, but Harry spoke up in her stead.


    "Sorry, Ron," he said. "But Flintstone is probably a Muggleborn too. Or at least he might''ve been named by one."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Flintstone Fredericton," Harry responded. "It''s a Muggle thing. Dud- my cousin was obsessed with it for about half a year and-"


    "And what?"


    There was a short silence as the footsteps following behind him stopped. Flynn spared the trio a single glance to see that Hermione and Ron were staring at Harry as the short boy glanced around the hallway, his eyes darting nervously from wall to wall.


    "Harry, what are-"


    "Shh!"


    There was a moment of silence, as Ron and Hermione turned to each other, and the ginger boy shrugged, but Harry didn''t seem to notice as he glanced at the ceiling before his eyes widened.


    "This way!" he shouted, before breaking off into a sudden run, in the opposite direction of the Great Hall.


    Though Hermione and Ron were quick to chase after Harry, Flynn watched them go until they quickly turned a corner and disappeared from his sight. Letting out a sigh of relief, he turned around and tried his best to forget that they existed as he made his way to the Great Hall.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    When Flynn marched into the Great Hall, and found an empty spot at the end of the Slytherin table, he ignored the stares of the Slytherin First Years that he found himself surrounded by and inspected the plates for any food that didn''t have enough sugar to melt his teeth off. Though he didn''t see anything substantial immediately, not long after he sat down, a few plates popped into existence, carrying chicken, wrapped sandwiches, and other more palatable food items that he could store in his pockets.


    A simple glare seemed to be enough to stop the Slytherin first years from staring, and once his pockets were filled comfortably, Flynn spent the rest of the dinner shovelling some of the less transportable food into his mouth.


    Thankfully, Dumbledore clinked his glass and called for an end to the feast in only a few minutes, saving Flynn from completely gorging himself on eggs.


    Standing up with the rest of the students, Flynn was about to rush towards the exit in hopes of avoiding being caught in the wave of students heading back to the dorms, before he felt something latch around his wrist.


    Looking down, he glared at the blonde barnacle that had spontaneously appeared by his side.


    "Hiya, Flynn," Lily said.


    "What do you want?" Flynn grunted, as he resigned himself to the fate of being swept along in a tidal wave of bodies.


    "Just wanted to check if you were real," she said. "You usually don''t come to dinner, so I thought I might''ve just been imagining you."


    "Well I''m real," Flynn grumbled.


    "So it seems," Lily said, with a nod.


    "Do you plan to let go of me?" Flynn asked, though he suspected the answer that would follow.


    Lily stared up at Flynn, raising an eyebrow like she couldn''t understand what he had just asked, before turning her attention to the crowd of students around them, apparently not thinking that his question had been worth answering.


    Flynn grumbled something that not even he could understand as he walked through the sea of students, with Lily in tow.


    Though he wasn''t sure if he should be heading to the Slytherin or the Hufflepuff dorms in this situation, the route towards both was somewhat shared, so they followed the large mass of students towards the large staircase in the front hall. It was only when Flynn saw something in the middle of the main hallway on the second floor, that he stopped in his tracks, along with the other students.


    "Hey, why''d we stop?" Lily asked, too short to see over the wall of students in front of her.


    Flynn didn''t answer her as he frowned at the sight of the trio that he''d abandoned only a few minutes before, not knowing whether to be impressed or annoyed by their ability to find trouble in such a short period of time. Standing over a dead cat, hanging by its tail in the middle of the air, the ominous words painted in red over their heads seemed to echo in the hall, without sound.


    "THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE."


    "Enemies of the heir, beware!" a familiarly whiny voice read out loud from the front of the crowd. "You''ll be next, mudbloods."


    - - - - -


    The two months from the start of the school year to the Halloween feast was always the busiest time of the year, according to Hagrid. As the Hogwarts Groundskeeper, he was responsible for cultivating and harvesting the oversized pumpkins, and unlike the Christmas trees that he also cared for, they needed constant care to grow past their natural, non-magical limits.


    While Flynn''s presence and assistance was a large boon, especially with how much of a green thumb he had, taking care of the pumpkins was still arduous enough that he could barely afford to do anything besides it, and with him still taking care of his regular Groundskeeper''s duties, it had been a long time since he had used his hut for anything other than sleeping and eating.


    Though it had been relatively empty at the beginning of his first year, having nothing but a bed, a firepit for cooking, and various household items scattered around the floor, over the past year and during the summer, it was clear that Hagrid had slowly been putting in work to make the place more hospitable to guests.


    Now there was a small semi-circle of small armchairs sitting around the fireplace, and two tables on opposite ends of the hut, one for eating, and one for studying. Though most of the chairs had plush cushioning on them, all of them looking like they''d been pulled from different sets, being nowhere close to matching another in shape, colour, or patterning, most of them were too soft for Flynn''s liking, and he was grateful that they were easily detachable.


    Flynn didn''t like to admit it, but Hagrid''s hut was probably his favourite place in all of Hogwarts to be in.


    But right now, he couldn''t help but feel a shard of annoyance pricking at his mind, as an awkward silence filled the air in Hagrid''s hut. It wasn''t completely quiet, but it was quiet enough that the sounds of the crackling fire echoed around the single room, along with Fang''s quiet grunting with his neck and chest being squeezed in Sally''s tight hug.


    Sitting in the seat beside her, Lily sat in a rare silence as she stared blankly into the fire, not having spoken more than a few words in the time that they''d been there. Behind them, Hagrid stood awkwardly behind them with a teapot in his hands, peering over their shoulders to see that neither of them had touched their tea since the last time he''d checked, about a minute ago.


    Flynn scowled at all of them, before he let out a huff and closed his textbook shut, annoyed that the three idiots had somehow ruined silence for him.


    "For the last fucking time," he said. "The fucking cat isn''t even dead. The message on the wall was edgy, not threatening. And Draco''s a fucking idiot. So stop fucking moping."


    Lily glanced back at Flynn with a strained grimace, but Sally didn''t turn around as she talked.


    "She was still hurt," she said.


    Fang grumbled and shifted his position so he wouldn''t be choked to death by Sally''s tightening grip, and Sally flinched back in surprise before whispering a near silent apology and started to scratch his head instead of squeezing him.


    Hagrid glanced at Flynn with a lost expression on his face, as if the older man were deferring to his opinion on what to do despite likely being more than three times his age.


    Flynn let out a heavy sigh.


    "I''m learning how to cook."


    The effect, though barely tangible, was immediate. Rather than a loud gasp or exclamation, everybody responded with a silent turn of the head, and a look of mild surprise, though he couldn''t be sure if they were more surprised by the subject matter of what he said, or the fact that he''d said it at all.


    He scowled at each of them in turn.


    "What? You fuckers think that''s funny, or something?" he growled.


    The rhetorical question backfired on him immediately, when they each silently answered with their amused smiles. Though Hagrid at least tried to cover his up with a cough and Sally turned away and tried to hide her face behind Fang, Lily turned around completely and leaned over the back of her chair.


    "A little bit," she said, giggling right afterwards, as if she was trying to prove it.


    Flynn glared at her, but when he slowly felt his face heating up with annoyance, he tore his eyes away from hers and turned back to his textbook, opening it with enough force to slam the front cover hard against the table.


    Fang let out a snort as the loud sound of impact woke him, making Sally giggle in turn. Picking up where he left off, Flynn did his best to burn a hole into his textbook with his glare, blocking out the rally of laughter that had inadvertently started between the two girls as best as he could.


    "What are you going to cook first?" Lily asked, grabbing a chair and placing it beside him before he could stop her.


    "Fuck off," he grumbled, tilting his body away from her.


    It did nothing to stifle the aura of a smile that emanated from her very being, as she pressed her shoulder into his.


    "Aww c''mon, Flynn," she said. "Don''t be shy."


    "Fuck. Off," Flynn said, glaring a picture of Dorian the Unrepentant that the previous owner of his History textbook had drawn a moustache onto. The picture glared back at him as it tried to wipe off the smudge, to no avail.


    "Are you gonna cook anything for me?" she asked.


    "Yes," Flynn grumbled, as he flipped the page, refusing to give Dorian any more attention as he yelled silently at Flynn, probably demanding for him to erase the moustache off his face.


    There was a moment of blissful silence, and the pressure of Lily''s shoulder against his lifted away for a moment, relieving him from the angry rush of heat that pooled in his head.


    "Really?" Lily asked.


    The simple question was enough for Flynn to tear his eyes away from the very interesting article on Dorian''s brother, Timothy the Repentant or something like that, to glare at Lily.


    "What?" he said. "You think I''m such a piece of shit that I can''t keep a fucking promise?"


    Lily blinked a few times, and tilted her head in confusion.


    Flynn scowled at her.


    "I told you I''d get you back," he said. "Don''t think I fucking forgot."


    Lily''s confusion refused to fade at first, but when Flynn suddenly saw a slow look of understanding in her eyes, he suddenly realised that he might have made a mistake.


    With his entire head burning with annoyance, he turned back to Thomas the Repellent.


    "Flintstone Fredericton," Lily said, leaning on his shoulder once again. "Are you perhaps, possibly, perchance talking about first year? On the Hogwarts Express?"


    Apparently Tommy travelled all across Europe to make amends for his brother''s actions.


    "You are, aren''t you?" Lily said.


    "Fuck off," Flynn grumbled.


    Lily''s annoying, annoying laughter rang in Flynn''s ear, as she practically draped herself over him. Flynn was too focused on his textbook to shove her off, despite very much wanting to.


    Flynn couldn''t remember why he had bothered to bring up the topic of cooking anyways, but now that he had, he couldn''t help but think that whatever his original reason was, it hadn''t been worth it. The sounds of chatter and laughter returned once again to Hagrid''s hut, robbing him of his sanctuary once more, and combined with the heat of annoyance that festered in his head and from his shoulder, he found that he couldn''t focus on whatever Tristan did hundreds of years ago, or whatever.


    Instead, his thoughts wandered to what he might learn to cook, to give Lily exactly what she deserved.


    With the burning heat of vengeance fueling his promises, he swore to himself that he would get his revenge.

 2.3 To tenderize and cook

    Flynn wasn''t one for group activities. Though he was vaguely aware of the existence of clubs in Hogwarts, he had never sought to learn more about them. Even if there was one that might have appealed to him, not that he thought there would be, he doubted that he would''ve wanted to spend any more time than necessary around the other students, given how much effort that he spent doing exactly the opposite of that.


    But when Flynn heard the word of a duelling club starting in Hogwarts, he had been intrigued enough to consider attending a session or two, if only to figure out what the hell duelling even was exactly. He only had a few sessions with Flitwick since the beginning of the school year, and the mention of duelling popped up at least a few more times, though Flitwick always dismissed the subject quickly, not wanting to "gloat about the past."


    Flynn hadn''t pushed Flitwick for an explanation about what duelling was, but that hadn''t stopped him from being curious. From the name itself, it wasn''t difficult to assume that the sport was something akin to a one-on-one fight, like a lot of non-magical sports that Flynn was familiar with, but there was still a wide spectrum of what duelling could be.


    When non-magical duelling could range from using fists, to fencing foils, to even pistols, Flynn couldn''t really imagine how varied the concept of duelling could turn out to be once magic was introduced.


    So when the opportunity to get first-hand experience was suddenly announced, Flynn decided that his curiosity was strong enough to take a look at the very least.


    But now that he was surrounded by chattering students from all ages, excitedly theorising about what the duelling club would be like, Flynn was starting to regret his decision to come.


    Resisting the urge to reach up and plug his ears against the tidal waves of noise crashing against him, he kept a tight grip on his wand in the pocket of his robes, and leaned backwards against the wall to give him at least one angle that he wouldn''t have to be worried about being potentially attacked from.


    Salvation came, a few minutes before the scheduled start time, when a loud clap echoed around the room, silencing the chatters immediately. Unfortunately, once Flynn was able to get a glimpse of who exactly was climbing on top of the long platform in the middle of the room, he realised that he had been conned.


    "Gather round, gather round. Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"


    Flynn turned around and immediately started to push through the crowd, heading towards the door as Lockhart metaphorically jerked himself off in front of the student body. It was only when Flynn was about to pull the door open that he heard something that might''ve been worth listening to.


    "Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape," Lockhart said, causing Flynn to turn around cautiously, only half-believing the conman''s words. To Flynn''s surprise, he quickly recognized the cone of thick black robes that stood a few feet behind Lockhart and let his hand fall away from the door, if only to figure out what the Potions master was doing here.


    "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin," Lockhart said, seemingly oblivious to the sharp promise of death that Snape was glaring into the back of his head.


    Snape didn''t say a word as he walked past Lockhart, towards the opposite end of the long platform that they stood on. Once he made it to the end of the platform, he turned to face Lockhart and the two bowed to each other and raised their wands in front of them.


    "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart said, as the entire room listened attentively to his words for the first time since he''d come to Hogwarts. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."


    Flynn frowned, wanting for the first time for Lockhart to keep talking. While the barebones explanation was good enough to confirm that the sport of magical duelling involved flinging spells at your opponent, the details were severely lacking.


    Regardless, Lockhart seemed to think that the few words of explanation was enough for his audience, and began to count down immediately.


    "One, Two¡­ Three!"


    With a quick twirl of his wand, and a shout of, "Expelliarmus!" Snape shot out a bolt of red energy that hit Lockhart square in the chest. The spell seemed to be absorbed by the blonde professor''s body, though instead of dissipating instantly, Flynn saw the flash of red flowing from the point of impact towards Lockhart''s arm, forcing his arm to jerk back and his fingers to splay open as if they were being repelled by the wand in his hand.


    Lockhart was sent flying backwards along with his wand, and Flynn heard a few cheers from the Slytherin part of the crowd, though he couldn''t help but notice that nearly all of the older students wore at least a satisfied grin regardless of their house at the sight of the conman fumbling around for his wand.


    Once he managed to retrieve his wand from a student who was standing at the far end of the room, where Snape''s spell had sent it flying, Lockhart made a few excuses for why he had been beaten, before calling for the students in the room to divide themselves into pairs.


    And it was at this moment that Flynn decided that he very much did not want to stay to see what might happen if several dozens of students were to start casting spells at each other in an enclosed room with no sense of organisation or discipline. Flynn gave a cursory glance towards Snape, the actual professor in the room, but didn''t particularly enjoy what he saw.


    On Snape''s face was a petty grin that only seemed to widen as he watched Lockhart gathering pairs of students and placing them in positions where it would be easier for them to accidentally hit their neighbours than for them to actually aim at their designated partners. Flynn couldn''t help but think of how Lockhart had introduced Snape as his "assistant" to the duelling club and he had to wonder whether Lockhart had taken all the claim to the "glory" of leading the club, without realising that he had also taken all the responsibility for it.


    Even when it became obvious that Snape was only taking personal responsibility for the Slytherins, leaving each pair a wide berth and spacing them out so they took up more than half of the room despite making up about a quarter of its population, Flynn was about to leave the room until someone stepped in front of him.


    A familiar older student sneered at him, tilting his head back so he could look down at him, despite being barely taller than Flynn.


    "Fancy meeting you here, Lord Slytherin," Asshole #1 from the Dipshit squad said. "Been a while, hasn''t it?"


    Flynn glared at Asshole, fighting the instantly rising urge to punch the smug expression off his face.


    Flynn spared a quick glance at the door, knowing that he could easily push past the boy and leave if he wanted, but as he weighed his options, Asshole chimed in to offer his own thoughts.


    "Might I remind you that it''s considered quite rude to ignore your betters," Asshole said. "And here I was, about to ask if you would grace me with the opportunity to be your sparring partner. Don''t you worry about that noble little head of yours. I''ll go easy on you. No need to be afraid. Not like you even have a pair of legs to hide your tail between, after all, Lord Slytherin."


    Flynn''s fist tightened around his wand, and a thrum of magical energy pulsed from his arm and circulated within his entire body.


    Asshole smirked down at him, though his eyes seemed to wander to the side towards Dipshit and Asshole #2, who were watching the scene from a healthy distance away, with mirrored sneers on their faces. Asshole pretended not to acknowledge them while focusing the entirety of his attention on them, but when the smiles on his two friends'' faces dropped, he didn''t seem to understand why until a familiar black shadow fell over them.


    "Does there seem to be a problem here, gentlemen?" Snape asked, with a glare that seemed to suggest that there was only one correct answer.


    "Not at all, sir," Asshole said, his voice going half an octave higher almost immediately. "I was just suggesting to Fredericton here that we could partner up, seeing as there aren''t that many other students left without partners."


    Snape''s glare didn''t lessen in intensity as it bounced from Asshole to Flynn a few times before he spoke.


    "It would be more reasonable for students to be matched up with peers from a similar year. Though I suppose it does seem that there aren''t many lone students at this point, and I would hate to delay the¡­ show any further," Snape said, scanning the crowded non-Slytherin half of the room with a sneer. "But the three year difference between you is not an insignificant one. I will only allow it if both of you agree to exercise restraint."


    Though he said it to both of them, Snape''s eyes lingered on Flynn''s for a fraction of a second longer than what might''ve been necessary. Though Flynn wasn''t entirely sure if he imagined it or not, the silent question still rang in his head.


    "Sure," Flynn said, answering the question with an intense glower towards Asshole. "I''ll duel."


    Though Flynn didn''t turn his head to look at him, he practically felt Snape''s glare burning a hole into the top of his head. Flynn refused to acknowledge the second part of Snape''s unasked question until the Professor walked away.


    Asshole one''s sneer returned as soon as Snape turned around, but Flynn didn''t let his expression change in the slightest.


    "You heard our dear Professor," Asshole said. "Go easy on me, Lord Slytherin."


    "I didn''t agree to shit," Flynn growled.


    "Oh you didn''t?" Asshole asked, with mock surprise. "Well, I suppose I should be scared."


    Flynn didn''t bother to agree with the obvious as he stepped backwards, taking the appropriate distance from Asshole. Unlike with the non-Slytherin half of the room, Snape had taken care to separate the students in even parallel rows so any duelling pairs wouldn''t interfere with each other as long as they could shoot their spells in a straight line, and an additional benefit to that was that Flynn knew exactly how far back to step, by matching his neighbour.


    When he looked to the side to make sure that he was in line with the other rows of students, he was surprised to see Draco staring at him from a few rows down, giving him a malicious jeer of a smile, practically bouncing up and down in excitement as across from him, Harry gave Flynn a worried look.


    Flynn scowled at the both of them before turning his attention back to Asshole.


    "Face your partners and bow!" Lockhart called out, from his spot on the platform.


    Flynn barely bent forward, while Asshole bent down in an exaggerated and mocking bow.


    "Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent. Only to disarm them!" Lockhart repeated, to which Flynn nodded. "We don''t want any accidents."


    Asshole gave him a grin at that, and for the first time in a long time, Flynn smiled back, stretching his mouth slightly too wide and showing off every single one of his slightly too sharp teeth. Asshole flinched at the sight, which made Flynn smile even wider, before returning his face to a more neutral glare.


    "One. Two¡­ Three!"


    Asshole didn''t have particularly quick reflexes, and before he could even open his mouth, Flynn already heard several voices shouting out in a growing cacophony of random hexes and charms, but to be fair to Asshole, it wasn''t completely his fault. Whether it was out of nervousness, or a lack of shame, most of the other students had cheated and had started to cast their spells before Lockhart had finished counting down.


    Out of the corners of his eyes, Flynn could see flashes of colour and light illuminating the room, as magic spells started to soar into the air, but none of them would compete with what he would produce.


    Pointing his wand up in the air, instead of towards his opponent, Flynn finally let the swirling magic in his body coalesce in his wand, with a deafening shout that cut through every other voice in the room.


    "LUMOS!"


    The entire room was immediately bathed in an intense white light that emanated from his wand. Even though Flynn could somehow stare into the light without being blinded, the reflection of his light made the world seem blank, as his immediate surroundings were reduced to nothing more than contradictory silhouettes of white, the crevices in which shadows would normally hide being invaded by the light.


    Spells flew wildly around the room or fizzled out entirely as the other students were blinded by the sudden light, or interrupted their own chants with their surprised screams, but Flynn paid them no attention as he glared at Asshole.


    Asshole cried out in pain, covering his eyes with his free hand as he held his wand hand out threateningly, like a knife, though he seemed too preoccupied with his temporary blindness to be thinking of what spell he could cast with it.


    With no such distractions of his own, Flynn lowered his wand, cutting off the flow of magic in it to pull away the light, before pushing his magic back into his wand once more.


    Exercise restraint, said Snape. Only to disarm, said Lockhart.


    Keeping those instructions in mind, Flynn took a moment to aim carefully at his target.


    "FLIPENDO!"


    Once again, Flynn''s voice overpowered the screams and cries of the other voices in the room, but it still couldn''t compare to the way that the visceral crunch of Asshole''s bones echoed through the room in the sudden silence that it commanded. In its wake, the only sound that could be heard was a deafening scream as Asshole flailed on the ground, his violent movements only jerking around his mangled arm in a way that was certain to cause more pain than if he just kept it still.


    Flynn watched Asshole flail, content to let him cause more damage to himself, before he turned around towards the quick footsteps that walked in his direction, barely audible amongst the screaming and the murmurs of every other student who had worn off the initial shock and were concerned about what was going on in their blindness.


    Flynn braced himself against the tight expression of fury on Snape''s face as the professor approached, gripping his wand tight in case he would need it.


    Snape glowered down at Flynn with an expression that promised death, but barely slowed down long enough to whisper something that only Flynn would be able to hear amidst Asshole''s screams.


    "You call that restraint?" Snape hissed.


    Flynn glared up at him.


    "He''s not dead," he responded.


    The response seemed to only make Snape angrier.


    "Foolish boy," Snape hissed out, practically spitting out the words, before walking to Asshole.


    With a quick tap of his wand, Asshole immediately stopped screaming, though that seemed to be because Snape knocked him out rather than actually healing him. With a quick inspection of the damage, Snape frowned at what he saw, before conjuring a stretcher and levitating Asshole''s unconscious body onto it.


    Leaving the boy floating in the air, Snape walked over to Asshole #2 and Dipshit and tapped them lightly between the eyes with his wand. The two blinked wildly as sight returned to them, and though they struggled to understand what was going on, Snape didn''t seem to care.


    "Selwyn, Yaxley," he said. "It seems that Carrow has been injured by an unfortunate case of accidental magic. See to it that you escort him to Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing at once."


    The mention of their friend''s name seemed to clue them in to what was going on, though when they actually looked towards the direction of the body, both of them clutched at their mouths at the sight of the mangled piece of flesh that hung off Asshole''s shoulder. Snape frowned and tapped their backs with his wand again, and they took their hands off their mouths, seeming to fight off the worst effects of nausea with Snape''s help.


    "Go," Snape said, and though neither of the pair seemed to want to get any closer to the stretcher and its occupant, they didn''t seem to think it was worth arguing against the clear order.


    Taking out his wand, Asshole #2 muttered something under his breath that made the stretcher float forwards, and though the room was a little more organised than it had been initially, with the Slytherin half of the room being divided into neat rows with a healthy amount of room to navigate through, Asshole #2 had a bit of trouble navigating his way to the door.


    It was only when they left and the door closed completely behind them, did Snape talk.


    "While this incident was a mere case of accidental magic, I will still need to file a report," Snape said, walking down the row of the nearest students and tapping them each between the eyes, with the exception of Harry and Hermione who were the only non-Slytherin students nearby. Malfoy shook his head wildly as he struggled to figure out what had just happened, but though he looked up at Snape to silently ask, Snape ignored him.


    "Professor Lockhart," Snape said. "I will unfortunately be forced to retire for today. If you need me, I will be in my office. I trust you are able to adjourn this meeting by yourself."


    "Of course," Lockhart said, with a slightly strained smile about twenty feet away from where Snape was standing. "Though I don''t suppose you could help me with my temporary blindness? It could be good practice for you to heal such a reflective pair of eyes such as mine. I''ve been told they are quite magical by too many beautiful ladies to count, after all. You could learn a thing or two."


    "Unfortunately, I will have to decline," Snape said, whipping his cloak around and glancing back at Flynn. "I would like to get this over with as soon as possible, without a second of delay."


    Lockhart''s smile fell completely, possibly because he thought the rest of the room was blind enough that it didn''t matter. Still his smile came back in full force a moment later.


    "Ah, very well. I suppose there are more important things to deal with than a little temporary blindness anyways. In fact, I remember a time when I was stranded in a bubble of magical darkness within the Amazon forest, where no light, magical or otherwise, could shine through. Thankfully, I had the foresight to put myself in a situation like the one we find ourselves in now, where I purposefully allowed myself to be blinded in order to train my other much-neglected senses."


    Flynn followed Snape out of the door, followed by the flock of Slytherin students that Snape had healed, leaving the rest of the students, including any Slytherin students that were unfortunate enough to not be within walking distance of Snape, to be stuck with Lockhart until their sight returned naturally.


    The atmosphere amongst the Slytherins was tense, but brief, as every one of the students seemed to have the sense to part from the impromptu walking group as soon as they possibly could, leaving only Snape and Flynn to walk towards Snape''s office.


    When they entered the room, Snape said nothing as he sat down, folded his hands in front of him and glowered up at Flynn. Flynn said nothing as he glared back.


    Eventually, it was Snape who spoke first.


    "You told me once, that you were placed in Slytherin because you desire power," Snape asked, his voice much calmer than Flynn might''ve expected. "Is this how you plan to obtain it? Through violence and fear?"


    "How the fuck is that relevant?" Flynn asked.


    Snape glared at Flynn, but gave no other response.


    Flynn glared back, and growled when Snape seemed to show no signs of understanding in his eyes.


    "This isn''t about power," Flynn said, hating how stupid he felt for having to spell out the obvious. "This is about paying people back what they''re owed, with interest. ''Power'' just meant I could afford not to kill him to get him back. A broken arm''s a lot more tame than a shank in between the ribs."


    "I would advise against casually threatening the life of another student in my presence, Mr. Fredericton," Snape snapped.


    Flynn glared at Snape.


    "If I didn''t do it, I''d be long dead by now."


    "Mr. Carrow may be a brute," Snape said, scowling more to himself than at Flynn, as if he hated to admit it. "But I hardly doubt he is capable of murder."


    Flynn didn''t respond, except to continue glaring at Snape for saying something so irrelevant.


    Snape stared at him for a long moment, and while Flynn wouldn''t exactly say that they softened, they lost a bit of the hard edge they had to them, while Flynn fought not to lose any in his own.


    There was a long pause, as Flynn held Snape''s glare, but with any tension in the atmosphere being held taut solely in Flynn''s grip, his eyes started to strain uncomfortably.


    When Snape sighed and looked down at the papers scattered around on his desk.


    "I will overlook the casual threats on your schoolmate''s life, seeing as you must be understandably stressed about your use of accidental magic," Snape said, as he took a quill out of his inkwell, and marked a few spots on a student''s paper with several Xs before scrawling a large T on the corner.


    Flynn waited for Snape to continue, but when he didn''t Flynn turned around and started to walk out of the office.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Snape called out before Flynn could reach the door.


    Flynn turned around to see Snape still with his eyes down on his papers, marking them quickly, with Ts and Ps marking a majority of the papers.


    "This world is a harsh one," Snape said. "There is no doubt of that."


    Flynn waited for Snape to continue, but when almost half a minute passed without any sign of that, he turned around.


    "Mr. Fredericton," Snape called out again.


    "What?" Flynn snapped in annoyance.


    Snape glanced up from his papers, clearly not amused by the show of attitude, but before Flynn could flip Snape off in response to the look he gave him, Snape looked back down.


    "The world is a dark and tragic place," Snape said, grimacing as if what he would say next would physically hurt him. "But sometimes, there is light."


    Flynn stared at Snape, his face twisting in annoyance at the vague message, before he scowled.


    "Are you fucking done?" he asked.


    "Five points from Slytherin for your language," Snape growled, keeping his eyes glued on the paper in front of him, with his nose almost pressing against the parchment. His quill nearly ripped the page as he tore a giant T onto it. "Get out of my office."


    - - - - -


    Flynn usually wasn''t one to concern himself with Hogwarts''s rumour mill, not able to care about who was dating who, or whether any of the Professors had secret children that they visited after hours, but he wasn''t stubborn enough to ignore it now that the rumours seemed to be exclusively about him.


    Keeping his ears open, he was able to determine that nobody really knew what had happened in the Duelling Club, since he had blinded all the witnesses involved. Though there were a few people that seemed to think that Snape had been telling the truth when he loudly announced that Asshole''s punishment had been a cause of accidental magic, a large majority of the student body hadn''t been convinced.


    While most of the students seemed to agree that the Duelling Club incident had been intentional, the rumours started to diverge wildly on the "How" and "Why" of it.


    Like with most rumours, the main goal of spreading and discussing them seemed to be more about having fun with wild theories rather than searching for the truth, and the method that Flynn had used to send Asshole to the hospital wing ranged from him turning into a snake and biting it off entirely, to the use of an early prototype of the Cruciatus Curse, whatever that was.


    Despite him screaming the incantation to the Knockback jinx at a volume that he was certain that the entire room had heard it, he barely heard a single whisper of it, except in the Slytherin Second Year dorms, where he had walked in on Draco talking to Gregory and Vincent about it in low tones, though his mouth snapped shut immediately when he noticed Flynn.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    If he knew that this would be all it took to shut Draco up, he would''ve done it a long time ago.


    Unlike the speculation on the method that he used, which was more regarded as a fun discussion on hypotheticals since nobody had actually seen Asshole''s injuries besides Flynn, Snape, Dipshit and Asshole #2, and thus there were no clues on what it could be (besides the knockback jinx, of course), the discussion on why Flynn had done it was a more seriously debated topic.


    Feuds within Slytherin were incredibly rare, at least on such a public scale as this one, but they weren''t unheard of. Though it was true that Slytherin tended to come off as a united front of rich assholes who seemed willing to at least tolerate each other for the sake of hating everyone else, putting so many rich assholes together was bound to cause friction at some point.


    Though the Slytherins self-proclaimed themselves to be at the top of the social ladder, lording above the rest of the school with the stench of old money, that didn''t mean that every Slytherin was equal in their stench. While most years tended to have a clear cut winner of who stank the most, like with Malfoy for Flynn''s year and Dipshit for his, sometimes there were two great stinkers who fought for dominance, mostly by trading whiny comments as they passed each other in the halls, but occasionally through full-blown fights.


    At first, a large majority of the school seemed to think that this incident was just a familiar incident of feuding clans, as the Frederictons and the Carrows butted heads behind the scenes in the larger political world outside of Hogwarts as well as within it, but that rumour only lasted for a few hours before it was shot down and buried in the dirt.


    Not only did the rumour mongers seem to realise that they had never heard of a Fredericton clan before, but when the Muggleborn students chimed in to offer the possibility that Flintstone Fredericton, of Muggle "Teevee" fame, was possibly a Muggleborn student as well, the debate mostly switched to whether the Sorting Hat would actually be insane enough to place a Muggleborn into the den of snakes.


    The blood status of Flintstone Fredericton, aka Lord Slytherin, as several students in the Duelling Club seemed to overhear Draco Malfoy calling him, became the most hotly debated topic in the school for about twenty four hours, until the next day when yet another Muggleborn student was found petrified in the halls of Hogwarts, accompanied by the frozen ghost of Gryffindor''s house, Nearly Headless Nick.


    The rumours shifted away from Flynn quickly after that, and though there was some lingering noise that focused on the possibility of him being the heir of Slytherin, with the nickname that Malfoy had given him, the recent revelation that he was also probably a Muggleborn heavily muddied that idea.


    While the rumour might''ve gained traction regardless, if it had been about a month earlier, the fact was that this was the second petrification with a student victim. Last month, when the Gryffindor first year had been attacked, just after the first quidditch game of the year, the students had treated the event with a cautious air, but were still willing to poke the subject at least a little.


    While Colin Creevey''s petrification had been unfortunate, he had only been one victim, and while the cure would take some time to make, the fact that there was a cure at all made it easier to treat the attack lightly.


    With a second human victim, and with not even the dead being safe from whatever was petrifying people around the school, it was getting harder to write the Chamber of Secrets off as a simple prank, and the petrifications as a fluke.


    For the next week, the air around the castle had been tense. Younger students walked around in large groups, and the halls were practically empty. Outside of mealtimes and the few minutes between each class, where every student hurried to their next classroom, eager to place themselves under the watchful eyes of their teachers, every student in the castle seemed to hole themselves up in the privacy and the safety of their respective dorms.


    With the castle being so empty, Hogwarts should''ve been a paradise for Flynn, if it weren''t for the two girls that had practically glued themselves to his side.


    As a Muggleborn herself, Sally had become a nervous wreck, even more quiet than she had been before. According to a whispering Lily and the dark bags under her eyes, Sally had been having nightmares every day since their fellow Hufflepuff had been petrified.


    With Lily having similarly growing bags under her own eyes, Flynn asked if she had been having nightmares too, but she shook her head. Standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, she told Flynn that she had offered to share a bed with Sally until the nightmares stopped, and that Sally''s tossing and turning kept her up at night.


    Thankfully, despite standing less than a foot away from her, Sally didn''t seem to hear what Lily had said, though it only made sense given how the girl seemed too focused on trying not to fall over to be paying attention to her surroundings.


    Though he wanted nothing more than to wander off into the abandoned sections of Hogwarts, Flynn took one look at the way that Lily''s and Sally''s hands were practically glued to the cuffs of his robes and sighed.


    "Let''s go to Hagrid''s," Flynn said. "I need to start practising my cooking."


    "You''re going to cook in Hagrid''s hut?" Lily asked, sounding more surprised by the suggestion than Flynn might''ve expected. "Why?"


    "Where else would I practise?" Flynn grunted.


    "Why not the kitchens?" Lily asked.


    "I don''t know where the kitchens are," Flynn responded simply.


    With a funny look, Lily told Flynn where the kitchens were. Right beside the entrance to the Hufflepuff dorms. It was apparently an open secret, at least to the Hufflepuffs, and Lily refused to be blamed for keeping it a secret since Flynn never asked in the first place.


    Flynn glared at Lily regardless, but didn''t put too much heat into it. Lily could barely match his stare, as her eyes struggled to focus on him, and despite the fact that he knew that Hagrid''s hut had more than enough equipment for his purposes, he decided that the kitchens would be an acceptable alternative. If Sally or Lily collapsed on the way there, he didn''t want to be responsible for carrying them the rest of the way.


    Dragging the two girls to the Hufflepuff dorms, Flynn didn''t see the supposed entrance to the kitchens until Lily pointed out the large still-life painting of a bowl of fruit that was hung at the far end of a storage room.


    Tickling a pear until it giggled and turned into a doorknob technically wasn''t the worst thing that Flynn had experienced in his life, but it was somehow the most uncomfortable thing that he''d had to do. With a shiver, he tried to suppress the memory before grabbing the pear and pulling the door open.


    Immediately a wave of heat and smells hit him with full force, and he couldn''t stop himself from taking a deep inhale through his nose to take in the overpowering scent of freshly baked bread, accented with the blended scent of various meats being cooked, presumably for the upcoming dinner in a few hours.


    But regardless of how comforting the heat and the smell of food was, it wasn''t enough for Flynn to ignore the army of bug-eyed creatures that stared up at him from their stations around the various ovens and stoves scattered around the large room.


    "Master Just Flynn?" one of them called out.


    Flynn glared at the one that spoke, and though he thought he might recognize the house-elf as Opie, the one that he had met in first year, he didn''t think it was him.


    "Master Just Flynn?" Lily parroted, with a grin.


    Flynn glared at her, and glared down at the house-elf that had spoken, but when neither of them reacted in the way that he wanted, he quickly decided to ignore them instead.


    "I want to practise my cooking," Flynn said. "Lend me a stove."


    The entire kitchen seemed to erupt in murmurs at Flynn''s request, and almost a minute without a clear response, Flynn turned around, ready to head to Hagrid''s hut instead.


    "Wait, Master Just Flynn," one of the house-elves said, a different one, also not Opie. "Master Just Flynn can has a stove if Master Just Flynn wishes. But we do not know why. Is Master Just Flynn unhappy with the food we make?"


    Flynn glared at the speaker, and though the house elf''s eyes immediately started to glisten with the threat of tears, he couldn''t help but think it had nothing to do with his glare. Glancing around the room, he couldn''t help but notice that nearly all of the house elves that formed the slowly growing crowd around him looked the same way, their eyes shining with moisture.


    "Are you fucking deaf?" Flynn asked. "I said I wanted to practise my cooking. It has nothing to do with your food."


    "Then Master Just Flynn is happy with our food?" another house elf asked.


    Flynn glared at the one that spoke, but turned away, unable to match the small creature''s watery stare for some reason. Unfortunately, that placed Lily directly in his line of sight, and he scowled at her automatically when he saw the amused grin on her face.


    "Your food''s fine," Flynn grumbled.


    When every single house elf in the crowd around him let out a squeaky roar, Flynn''s first instinct was to shove his hands in his pocket to grab his wand. With Lily still holding onto his sleeve, she let out a surprised yelp as she was dragged down and she fell against his shoulder before giving him an annoyed glare.


    Thankfully, the house elves didn''t use the moment of distraction to attack him, but instead seemed to be more interested in hugging each other, jumping up and down as they cried happy tears, cheering, laughing, and some even breaking out into song, with each of the singing house elves choosing entirely different songs from one another.


    Flynn glared at the house elves, completely unamused but somehow finding that the cacophony of noise didn''t bother him as much as he might''ve assumed. Though it was more chaotic than what he was used to, he couldn''t help but wonder exactly when he had become so used to listening to the annoying chatter of tiny creatures.


    He glanced down at Lily, who still had her hands attached to his sleeve deep in his pocket, and she didn''t seem interested in changing that anytime soon.


    "What?" she asked.


    Flynn didn''t respond except to take his hand out of his pocket and shake Lily off of his sleeve. After a moment of thought, he did the same to Sally, who barely seemed to realise that she was hanging onto him in the first place.


    Ignoring Lily''s mock pout, Flynn scanned the room for any empty stoves, but though he saw a few skillets where the contents had started to smoke angrily while its previous occupant was too busy celebrating to tend to the food, there wasn''t a single space that he could see that was free.


    But while he scanned the kitchens once more, his eyes narrowed at the sight of a single elf at the end of the room, standing with its arms splayed out comically and its back against the wall, like it had been thrown against it.


    Though a small part of him was curious about what the wall elf was doing, with how the rest of the elves only seemed to be celebrating harder as more time passed, he could hardly think that what the wall elf was doing was weird in comparison. As he watched several of the elves disappearing into the cupboards and crawling out with mugs filled to the brim with what looked suspiciously like beer, his eyes narrowed as black smoke started to rise from some of the unattended skillets.


    "Hey!" he shouted. "Stop fucking around! Your food''s about to burn."


    Immediately, the elves stopped what they were doing, glanced at their food and decided to both panic and thank Flynn for "liking their food enough to not want it to burn" in the same breath before they returned to their work stations with no sign that anything was out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that a majority of them were humming as they worked, and had a bit of a skip to their step as they moved from place to place.


    Flynn didn''t have to wait long before one of the stoves was freed up, and a shy house elf beckoned Flynn to come over.


    Flynn nodded at the house elves who brought a clean set of pots, pans, and a large assortment of utensils, most of which Flynn had no idea how to use, before he took a single pan and a spatula out of what was offered to him.


    Setting the pan down on the hot stovetop, Flynn ignored the curious stares of Lily, Sally, and a handful of elves as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of the bacon he had taken from that morning''s breakfast.


    After the house elves stopped threatening to lay themselves over the fire if Flynn didn''t take their fresh ingredients, Flynn decided that if he was willing to take the free food from Hogwarts after it was cooked, there shouldn''t be much of a difference for him to use fresh ingredients from the kitchens, even if the latter did feel a little more like he was stealing from the house elves for some reason. Besides Lily was probably right when she said that he probably wouldn''t learn much by re-heating food that had already been cooked before, even if he hated how much she was laughing as she said it.


    Flynn scowled at her, and shooed her away, unable to concentrate on his cooking while she was there.


    Though Flynn wasn''t completely unfamiliar with the kitchen, with how often Jones made him "pull his weight" to earn his dinners at the gym, he had only been given charge of things that were adjacent to cooking, like peeling onions and potatoes, or doing the dishes after the fact.


    Now that he was actually standing in front of the stove, staring down at the fat strips of bacon he had sizzling in the pan, he had to wonder how and why anyone enjoyed cooking in the first place.


    Flynn had learned a long time ago, just how low people could sink in terms of what they were willing to put in their mouths when they had an empty stomach to fill, but he had learned that lesson in tandem with the fact that eating the wrong thing could either kill you or bring you to a point where dying would feel like a mercy.


    Flynn had no idea why he had chosen to cook meat when he knew just how dangerous it could be. While he didn''t have to worry about the possibility that it was too old for consumption, with how fresh the ingredients were, he knew that undercooked meat could be a death sentence as well, and he couldn''t help but regret the fact that he hadn''t just ignored his gut instinct to reheat the cooked bacon in the first place.


    As Flynn stared down at the pan, he noticed himself getting more and more agitated. Though he didn''t want to let his eyes leave the meat for a second, his fingers twitched, desperately craving something to do with the anxious energy that was building up inside of him. At a certain point, he started to realise that he would have to give them something to do soon, unless he wanted them to explode.


    Keeping his eyes on the pan, he muttered a set of ingredients towards the house elves that were standing nearby, repeating them from his vague memory of the one time that Tom had made pancakes one weekend morning.


    When the elves delivered Flynn his pancake ingredients, he groped blindly at them until he gave up and took his eyes off the bacon strips to mix them together, only half-realising halfway through that he had no idea how much of each ingredient he should be putting in the mixing bowl, but deciding it was too late to change anything.


    Whisking the ingredients quickly and furiously, to keep himself from leaving the bacon alone for too long, he ended up spraying unmixed flour and batter everywhere before he figured it was enough mixing and poured it into the pan.


    Flynn flinched and scowled when he realised that he had somehow forgotten that the pan was already occupied, but before he could do anything about it, the lumpy pancake batter had already coated the sizzling bacon entirely.


    Flynn clenched his fist in annoyance at himself for fucking up something so simple, but before he could decide on whether he wanted to mark it off as a failed attempt and quit trying to cook forever, he felt something soft crashing against his back.


    Flynn looked down as he felt Lily pushing her head past his arm. For a second, he was tempted to push her back, in embarrassment of his fuck-up, but she spoke before he could make a decision.


    "Bacon pancakes," she commented. "I didn''t know you were cultured, Flynn."


    Flynn scowled at Lily.


    ""Don''t patronise me," he said. "That''s not a thing."


    "It isn''t?" Lily asked. "Then what''s that?"


    "A fuck up," Flynn answered.


    Lily looked up at Flynn, and gave him a soft smile.


    "It''s a thing," Lily said easily, as she reached up to grab the spatula that he had in his hands.


    Flynn was surprised when he realised how tight he was gripping the cooking utensil, and though he had no inclination to let Lily take it from him in the first place, she didn''t seem to care. Quickly giving up on prying the spatula from his grip, she placed both her hands over his. Though they were small enough that she could barely cover his hand with both of her own, Flynn was surprised enough by the gesture that he didn''t resist as she piloted his hand to slowly flip the battered bacon strips over on the pan.


    "My mom doesn''t like cooking bacon too much, because of the smell, but she doesn''t mind it as much if she coats it in pancake batter first," Lily said.


    Too confused by the situation to form a proper sentence, Flynn nodded despite the fact that the bacon still smelled exactly the same, regardless of how much he had drowned it in pancake batter.


    "I like my mom''s cooking," Lily continued. "Honestly, the food at Hogwarts is better than what she makes, but sometimes I miss it."


    Lily looked up to smile at Flynn, but quickly turned her attention back to the pan, silently watching the food cook. Flynn stared at the back of her head, not moving until she did, finally taking her hands off of his to grab the pan and tilt the contents onto a nearby plate.


    After thanking the house elf that offered her a knife and fork, she cut a piece of the bacon pancake and shoved it in her mouth. Her smile immediately strained, and she silently cut another piece of the pancake and held it out to Flynn.


    After a short moment, Flynn was able to finally gather his wits enough to take the offered fork from her hand and shove it into his mouth. Immediately his face twisted as he took a bite, and the disharmonious mixture of crispy bacon, runny pancake, and a clump of flour that hadn''t properly been mixed into the batter clashed on his tongue.


    "It''s fucking shit," Flynn said.


    Lily smiled, and swallowed the remainder of her bite.


    "You''ll do better next time," she offered.


    Flynn tried to scowl at her, but found that his mouth wouldn''t listen to him. Deciding it had something to do with the flour between his teeth, Flynn decided to spare Lily and give her a simple nod instead.


    Lily smiled up at him in response.


    Though Flynn didn''t want to make another attempt at cooking so soon after his first fuck up, especially with how inexplicably hot his face felt, possibly a result of him undercooking the bacon, Sally had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor in a nest of pillows and blankets that the house elves had bundled her into.


    With how peaceful she looked, and how little sleep she''d been getting in the past week, Lily elected to let Sally sleep for as long as she wanted, as long as it wouldn''t be a bother to the house elves.


    With the house elves eagerly granting their permission, Flynn and Lily stayed behind in the kitchens, as Lily wandered off to talk to the elf that was still standing with its arms splayed out against the wall at the far end of the kitchen, while Flynn walked around the kitchen, peering over the shoulders of the house elves in hopes of learning something new.


    After a long while, Lily reported back to Flynn with her findings that the house elf that was voluntarily pressing himself against the wall was none other than Opie, who was dutifully obeying Flynn''s last order as best as he could manage. It took Flynn a moment to remember that he had told Opie not to follow him the last time they had talked, and once he realised that Opie was pressing himself against the wall in an attempt to stay as far away from Flynn as physically possible, without disobeying the laws of physics, Flynn walked over and gave an exasperated order to Opie to not be so stupid.


    After clarifying that he wasn''t suggesting that Opie should enroll himself into higher education, Flynn clearly stated that Opie didn''t need to avoid Flynn so intensely, and that he didn''t need to press himself against any walls.


    Once Opie accepted the new set of orders, he thanked Flynn for eating more eggs at breakfast time before returning to his cooking station and thanked the house elf that took over to make sure that his abandoned food didn''t start a fire.


    Dinnertime started soon after that, and with Sally still dead asleep in her nest, Lily and Flynn ate their food in the kitchen, sitting side by side on the floor on cushions provided by the elves.


    Lily leaned against him after she finished eating, and in a few minutes she had started to snore quietly against his shoulder. Not wanting to wake her needlessly, Flynn stayed as still as he possibly could, idly watching the house elves as they ran around, cooking food, and using their magic to teleport it to the Great Hall, waving their fingers around like conductors, no doubt controlling the plates with some sort of magical sense despite not being able to see them.


    At some point, Flynn realised that Sally was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, staring idly as she ate from a plate resting in her lap, while Ms. Garfield ate what looked like a small spider on her knee.


    Flynn scowled at Sally out of instinct, not understanding how she had suddenly appeared in front of him without him noticing, until he realised that there was a thin green blanket draped over his chest. He stared at it, unable to fathom how it had gotten there until he realised that he must''ve fallen asleep at some point.


    He frowned, unable to understand how that was even possible. He was a light sleeper, and in the Slytherin dorms, he would often wake up at least once a night whenever one of his roommates would wake up to go to the washroom, jolting awake instantly at the slightest sound and grabbing his wand tight until they crawled back into bed and the potential threat had passed.


    It made no sense that he could let his guard down so easily, surrounded by noise and bustle, until he wondered if he had somehow poisoned himself into a deep sleep with his undercooked bacon. Scowling at the realisation that his culinary journey would be a long one, he made to get up and leave, now that Sally was awake, until he realised that there was still a blonde puddle of a girl draped over his lap.


    If Sally cared at all about the predicament he was in, she showed no indication that she was willing to help him out of it, as she slowly ate her dinner without any sort of rush. When she ate the last of it, she finally acknowledged Flynn''s predicament with a shrug and stating simply that Lily was a heavy sleeper. Nothing would wake her.


    Flynn scowled at her for her uselessness, but she paid it no mind as she crawled back into her nest, and promptly fell back asleep.


    Flynn glared at the two girls, but when he got no response other than quiet snores, he grumbled to himself and decided to just wait until they woke up. Until then he would stay awake.


    Watching the house elves as they worked around them, cleaning the kitchen and mostly ignoring Flynn except to offer him a glass of warm milk, which he declined, Flynn kept his eyes narrowed as he glared at them, daring them to try anything.


    Refusing to let the warmth of the kitchen and comfortable weight of Lily across his lap lull him into a false sense of security, his eyes narrowed into a sharper and sharper glare, until he was glaring so intensely that he practically had his eyes closed.


    But not actually. Just practically, of course.

 2.4 Another Christmas

    While the shock of the second human petrification faded slowly over the course of December, the air of fear had still been thick enough that when the Heads of Houses asked their students about who would be staying in the castle over the holidays, a majority of the Hogwarts population elected to go home, but surprisingly enough, Malfoy and his goons had chosen to stay behind.


    It didn''t matter much to Flynn, especially with how Malfoy had actually learned to keep his mouth shut ever since the incident in the duelling club, but it did mean that he didn''t have free reign over the Slytherin common rooms like he''d had last Christmas, though he didn''t mind the loss all too much.


    For the first time in a while, with no annoying Hufflepuff girls glueing them to his side, Flynn finally had the freedom to roam the halls to try find a place to practise his newly forming spell after working on the theory for the first half of the year.


    As soon as the first day of the break hit, Flynn set out to find an abandoned classroom to practise in, and though he was delayed by about an hour, when he went to his first usual spot only to find it occupied by a pair of older Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students making out so intensely that neither of them noticed Flynn opening the door and giving them both a disgusted glare, he managed to find an another abandoned room at the other end of the castle.


    Though he had used the spell at a small scale to some degree of success, this was the first time he would be attempting to use the spell without holding back.


    Placing the cushion that he''d stolen from the Slytherin common room on the floor, he took a healthy distance from it and readied his wand, running through the different steps of spellcasting in his mind.


    Three components to a traditional spell. Intent, Motion, and Chant.


    The Intent wasn''t anything that he''d had a problem with, in his spellcrafting process. Like the book suggested, Flynn had kept his first spell simple. He was creating a "pulling" spell to complement the knockback spell he was so familiar with. The intent behind his spell was that anything his spell hit would have a force applied to them that pulled them directly towards Flynn from the point of contact that the spell hit.


    Using the Intent as a base, the idea that Flynn had for the Motion of his wand was based on a similar idea. While his first ideas involved pulling his wand back to mirror the Intent of the spell, he found rather quickly that the motion made it difficult to aim his spell. Unlike some spells that simply affected their target, Flynn still had to hit his target, after all. After some thought, he landed on a simple flick of his wrist in a motion not too dissimilar to the casting of an invisible fishing line.


    Out of all the three components, the Chant that Flynn would attribute to the spell proved to be the most annoying one to determine.


    According to the notes he''d taken on the Spellcrafting guide, the Chant of a spell was often one that was the most troublesome for a new spellcrafter to think of, not because of any inherent rules for what a Chant should be for any given spell, but the exact opposite.


    A Chant for any given spell could technically be anything. While many novice spellcrafters in the modern age would be tempted to think that the language of a spell determines its outcome, the fact of the matter is that there is no relation, other than the fact that the creator of the original spell chose an arbitrary set of sounds to form their chant.


    When deciding on a Chant, the most important thing to consider was the specificity of it. It was important to choose a chant that wouldn''t otherwise be used in casual language. Not only will this reduce the possibility of accidentally casting a spell in a casual setting, but it will also make it easier to keep the Intent firm when casting a spell. When the chant that it uses is specific, it is easier for the caster to focus on the one and only Intent that is associated with the spell, rather than having to introduce another unnecessary layer of interpretation if more casual language is used.


    While Latin is often used as a base in modern spells in the European wizarding world, this is done more for the marketability of the spell across Europe, by using an ancestor shared by many of the languages in the continent. While there is merit in attributing a spell to a vaguely familiar translation of a word, which in turn makes it easier to memorise, the truth is that it does not affect the spell itself in the slightest.


    Though Flynn agonised somewhat over what he could use, he eventually decided that there was no reason to go against something that already worked. Even though he didn''t really have much intention to market his spell, using a base of Latin wasn''t a bad idea in and of itself, and though he had no trouble with breaking tradition, he didn''t see much point in breaking it here.


    After spending an evening in the library, he had settled on a simple enough word.


    "Retraho," he shouted.


    A beam of light erupted from his wand. Crude and unrefined, it arced chaotically in the air, but miraculously landed on the cushion, sending it flying directly towards Flynn''s face.


    Though he was confident that he would be able to catch it, Flynn didn''t want to get into the habit of trying to catch anything he hit with his pulling spell, in case he hit something dangerous. Ducking under the pillow, it sailed far behind him, hitting the wall with a solid thumping sound and fell to the floor, kicking up a large cloud of dust.


    Flynn felt a surge of satisfaction course through him at the sight. While it certainly wasn''t perfect, with the spell lacking any sort of precision or control, it was still a fully functioning spell that had the effect that he''d intended.


    So just to make sure that it hadn''t been a fluke, Flynn spent the rest of his afternoon casting the pulling spell over and over, even abandoning the cushion once he''d gotten confident that he could dodge whatever came his way.


    For the sake of testing it out and nothing else. If he was having fun with it, it was a pure coincidence.


    - - - - -


    Last year, after cleaning the trees out of the Great Hall after the Christmas feast, Hagrid had left Hogwarts to take a much needed vacation. Even though he insisted that it was the best place in the world, and there was nowhere else he would rather work, he admitted that after spending a large majority of his life there, being hired as a groundskeeper almost immediately after he''d been expelled, it could get a little stale if he didn''t take the occasional break.


    Last year he''d visited the Netherlands, Russia in the previous year, and Italy the year before that. He didn''t have a particular place that he liked to return to, but the most important thing was to take a healthy step away from Hogwarts, so he could always be awed by the sight of it whenever he returned.


    That being said, this year, for the first time in decades, Hagrid had decided to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas break, though it didn''t mean that he was forgoing his vacation.


    For the first time that year, Hagrid invited Flynn to go with him on a multi-day expedition into the Forbidden Forest, and Flynn was quick to jump on the opportunity, not even bothering to ask what they were going to do before helping Hagrid pack their supplies.


    It was on their second night in the Forest, as they sat around the small fire that Flynn had started, when he decided to ask what they were even doing there.


    "I didn''t even tell ye what we were doin?" Hagrid asked, seeming shocked by the question. "Sorry, bout that Flynn. I never realised."


    Flynn shrugged as he poked the fire with a long stick, causing a small spray of sparks to erupt from the burning logs as they crumbled under the pressure.


    "If I wanted to know, I would''ve asked," he grunted. "Don''t be sorry."


    Hagrid frowned, looking like he wanted to apologise anyways, but bit it back.


    "We''re going te visit Norberta," Hagrid said, his frown quickly fading into a smile as he poked the fire as well.


    "She lives in the forest?" Flynn asked, realising for the first time that he actually hadn''t seen any trace of the ugly dragon since last year.


    "She grew too big over the summer," Hagrid said, with a sniffle. "Had to relocate her to a mountain deep into the forest. Lots of room to play around. I''m sure she''s happier there."


    Hagrid sniffled again.


    "I''m sure she''s happy," Hagrid said again. "But I haven''t seen her since the summer. Her mountain''s too far te visit her over the weekend, and I can''t be away from Hogwarts for too long, especially with all that trouble going on in the castle with the Chamber of Secrets and all. I know she''s a grown lady, and she can take care of herself, but I just can''t help but worry."


    Flynn looked down at the fire, not wanting to see what expression Hagrid might have on his face, even if it was easy to guess from the way that he blew his nose.


    "How long until we get there, then?" Flynn asked.


    "Bout two more days," Hagrid responded.


    "Then you''ll see her soon," Flynn said.


    Hagrid didn''t respond with anything other than a hum.


    "Sorry fer dragging you out here with me," Hagrid said, poking the fire.


    "I needed to stretch my legs anyways," Flynn said, poking the fire back. "And I told you not to be sorry."


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "Sorry."


    They arrived at Norberta''s mountain range on the evening of their third day of travel, but instead of climbing up the mountain, they stopped at the base and set up camp. Familiar enough with the rhythm of camping by now, Flynn and Hagrid worked silently together as Hagrid set up both of their tents, and Flynn started a fire and took out the cooking utensils.


    They cooked their meals together, simply heating up the food that they had packed over the fire, but unlike the last few meals they had, Hagrid pulled out a large bottle of brandy from his backpack and poured a small amount of it into a pot.


    The steam of the brandy rose into the air with a sharp stench of alcohol as it boiled away, and Flynn couldn''t help but flinch against spray of snow that hit his face as gusts of cold air that buffeted him, accompanied by the sound of wing flaps.


    "Norberta, honey!" Hagrid said, with a smile, standing up and spreading his arms wide, as if he was expecting a hug from the quickly approaching dragon. "Mummy''s home! And your Uncy Flynn is here to visit too!"


    Flynn didn''t know how to react to the implication that he was somehow related to the deformed bag of leather that landed beside Hagrid, but from the way that Norberta hissed at Flynn, he was sure that she felt the same way.


    Just from looking at it, he was surprised that he''d managed to keep himself from running away immediately. Though Norberta was just as ugly as he remembered her, looking like a wrinkly garbage bag that had been vacuum sealed around a skeleton, now that she was almost as tall as Hagrid while on all fours, he was confident that if she decided that he looked nutritious enough to eat, there was no way that he could fight her off.


    Thankfully, rather than trying to eat him, she seemed more interested in wrapping her body around Hagrid while keeping a narrowed glare fixed onto Flynn, almost like she expected Flynn to attack him.


    Hagrid just laughed loudly, cooing over Norberta as he ran his hands along her spine, entirely oblivious to the clash of glares happening behind him.


    For the next hour, Hagrid continued to fuss over Norberta as she continued to glare at Flynn, refusing to break eye contact even for a second as she pointedly ignored Hagrid except to grab him with her tail or wrap her body around him whenever he got too far away from her. Hagrid seemed surprised by the sudden affection that Norberta was giving him, but despite his suggestions for Flynn to come closer to say hello, he ignored him too, refusing to move from the spot as he kept a firm grip on his wand, and a deadly glare into Norberta''s eyes.


    Hagrid stopped pushing the issue when Norberta lifted her leg high to step on Hagrid''s head, and pushed him face first into the snow. Flynn gripped his wand tighter, ready to try and rescue Hagrid if necessary, but Hagrid let out a loud laugh.


    "Norberta, ye silly girl," he said, grunting in exertion when Norberta shifted around to sit directly on his back. "I''m not an egg. Get offa me."


    Norberta refused to listen as she settled down further on Hagrid''s back, still keeping her glare trained on Flynn, watching for any movements.


    As Hagrid unsuccessfully tried to wrestle his way out from underneath Norberta, laughing joyfully as he flailed around against the snow, Flynn made sure that he wasn''t actually dying before he shot one last glare towards Norberta and sat back down at the fire, returning his attention to his half finished food.


    It took about ten minutes for Norberta to glare angrily at Flynn and scoot closer to the fire, dragging Hagrid across the snowy floor along with her.


    With his clothes full of snow, Hagrid finally decided that enough was enough and wrestled his way out from underneath Norberta. Despite her efforts to keep him underneath her, with Hagrid actually being serious in his attempts to escape, it didn''t take long before he was sat down by the fire, with Norberta sulking angrily a healthy distance away.


    Opening the giant bottle of brandy again, Hagrid poured a healthy portion of it out into a large metal pot, before taking out two large mugs and pouring a small amount of brandy into both, and held one of them out to Flynn.


    "You don''t need te actually drink it," he said, giving him a sheepish smile. "But she might like it if ye pretend at least."


    Flynn stared at the offered drink, wondering whether he should call Hagrid out for offering alcohol to a twelve year old, when he decided he didn''t really care. Taking the offered drink, he winced at the fumes that immediately stung his nose.


    Immediately, he heard a chuffing sound and turned his gaze towards Norberta, who had her mouth in her own pot of brandy, slowly drinking from it as she stared up at him with a mocking glint in her eyes.


    Glaring back at her, Flynn growled in annoyance before he tilted his mug back and downed its contents in one go, hoping that he could overcome his urge to gag at the smell through speed alone.


    He woke up a few hours later, in the middle of the night. The half-moon in the cloudless sky illuminated the world around him in a soft light, reflected against the pure white snow, but for some reason, Flynn could still barely see, his vision clouded by something other than darkness.


    A moment of panic struck him, as he struggled to remember where he was and how he had gotten there, but as he waded through a hazy river of memories, he quickly remembered the sequence of events that led to this point, though he could only vaguely recall anything that had happened beyond him downing the cup of brandy that Hagrid had handed him.


    He fought with the haze in his head for a long moment, before he decided he would deal with it in the morning, whatever "it" was.


    Resting his head back against the warm leather sofa that he was nestled into, he shifted around to get in a more comfortable position before the sofa grunted out in annoyance. Though he couldn''t exactly understand why or how Norberta had gotten so close to him, he glared at her out of instinct, until she let out an amused chuff and put her head back on the floor.


    Flynn glared at her, but decided to ignore the creeping suspicion that he wasn''t actually lying against a leather couch as the pull of sleep called to him. He managed to find a comfortable position where Norberta''s spines weren''t digging into his side, before he let himself doze off once more.


    The next morning, the only thing that saved Hagrid from Flynn setting him on fire was the fact that Flynn had too strong of a headache to even think about casting spells. Thankfully, Hagrid seemed to be distraught enough on his own, so Flynn decided that forcing Hagrid to carry him on his back until his headache went away would be good enough revenge until he could think of something better.


    It took Flynn a few more hours to sober up completely and decided to let Hagrid go unpunished, preferring to forget about the experience entirely instead of getting vengeance for it. Unfortunately, with Hagrid breaking the silence every five minutes or so to apologise, it was difficult to ignore, until Flynn told Hagrid to shut the fuck up.


    - - - - -


    The rest of Christmas break passed without much incident, unless he counted the sudden curiosity that Gregory and Vincent seemed to have about him, before Malfoy called them back to his side with a nervous hiss.


    On Christmas morning, he got a bright pink apron and a muggle cookbook from Lily and Sally, who had apparently met up to buy him a gift together, a set of a dozen high quality socks from Elizabeth, a pair of thick leather gloves from Hagrid, and a frying pan from the house elves that had been wrapped in so many layers of colourful patterned paper that Flynn had originally assumed it was a small bookshelf.


    With the amount of personal possessions that he now owned starting to accumulate to an amount that he couldn''t feasibly carry them around on his person at all times, Flynn spent the rest of his Christmas break finding new secure spots to stash away some of his possessions, and after stumbling across the same red-haired Gryffindor and the blonde Ravenclaw students from before making in out in several of the abandoned classrooms that he usually used multiple times, he decided to branch out a little bit in terms of places to keep his stuff.


    When he asked the house elves to store his new frying pan away for him, he had to shout at them to stop crying before he was able to explain that he wasn''t returning the gift, only keeping it safe with them. He stored his new pink apron there too, and though it might''ve made sense to keep his cookbook there as well, he decided to keep it on him, with it being small enough that the weight and size wouldn''t bother him too much if he kept it in the bag he carried with him under his robes.


    When he asked Hagrid to store away some of his extra clothes in his hut, he had to shout at him to stop crying as well, before explaining that he wasn''t returning his gift and that he wasn''t still mad about what had happened during their visit to Norberta, since nothing had happened in the first place.


    When The Hogwarts Express returned, and students filled the castle once more, Blaise gave him a small porcelain bottle without a word, other than to explain that it was an inkwell and an apology for being unable to get a matching set for the quill he had given him the previous year.

 2.5 Yet another blonde

    Despite two of the hospital beds in Hogwarts still being occupied by petrified students, the Christmas break seemed to do wonders to lighten the mood in the castle. Though Flynn was certain that nobody had forgotten about the two victims, it seemed like a majority of the students didn''t seem to want to discuss the matter anymore, content to let the subject float silently in the halls without giving voice to it.


    Sally and Lily seemed to be swept along in the sudden air of good cheer, their bags of sleeplessness were gone, and neither of them seemed to shy away from smiling anymore.


    The entire school seemed to fall back onto familiar routines, with the only real change being that most of the students walked around in groups of three at the minimum.


    Somehow, Flynn found himself inexplicably being swept up in the same pattern, with Lily and Sally glueing themselves to his side, even dragging him to lunch and dinner whenever they could physically catch him trying to avoid it.


    It took about a month before he realised that with the duo''s constant presence around him, he hadn''t had the opportunity to go to an abandoned classroom to practise his spellcasting since the Christmas break, and with his skills starting to get rusty, he had no other choice but to let them tag along.


    He went to an abandoned classroom that was a bit more out of the way, since he knew that the more accessible ones were occasionally visited by the older Gryffindor and Ravenclaw that he''d run into a few times over the Christmas break and started his usual practice. While Lily and Sally were both shocked by how violent his spellcasting was, with neither of them having attended the duelling club and having had no other opportunity to see Flynn''s spellcasting in action, they were both impressed by his display of his own custom spell.


    It didn''t take long for Lily and Sally to join in to the practise, admitting (to Flynn''s annoyance) that neither of them really practised their spellcasting much outside of classes, despite having similar or better grades in Charms and Transfiguration than him.


    It took about half an hour for Lily and Sally to grow tired of spellcasting, and took a break while Flynn continued for about an hour longer before he decided to stop so they could go to dinner.


    Flynn led the way, since neither of the girls had any clue on how to navigate the halls with how deep into the castle Flynn had taken them, but the pair almost bumped into him when he stopped suddenly in the halls, his eyes narrowing at what he saw.


    "Why''d you stop?" Lily asked, rubbing her nose gingerly after bumping into him.


    Flynn didn''t answer as he stared up at the ceiling, debating to himself whether he should turn around and run or not.


    "Are those shoes?" Sally asked.


    Flynn didn''t answer, not bothering to state the obvious, but while the shoes were obviously shoes, the question was what the shoes represented. If he were back in Fredericton, a pair of shoes dangling from a telephone wire was often a sign that you should turn around or at least watch your back for crackheads or gangs, but he hesitated to assume the same thing for Hogwarts.


    "Yeah, those are shoes," Lily responded, obviously not sharing the same distaste that he had for stating the obvious.


    "You must be a very confident person to make that assumption," a quiet voice said, suddenly enough and close enough that Flynn felt a pair of hands grab his sleeves in surprise.


    To their credit, Flynn hadn''t noticed the source of the voice either until she spoke, but he had managed to hide his surprise before he spotted a small blonde hair head, peeking out from behind a pillar, low enough to the floor that he imagined she was sitting down behind it.


    Flynn glared at her, and she tilted her head at him, like a curious animal, saying nothing in response.


    It took a few more seconds for Lily to spot the girl, and her grip around Flynn''s sleeve relaxed when she realised who and what had spoken.


    "Why would I need to be confident to assume that they''re shoes?" Lily asked.


    The girl''s head tilted further, until it was almost completely sideways.


    "We''re in a magical castle," the girl said. "Even if something looks like a pair of shoes, it doesn''t mean it is a pair of shoes. It could be a fuzzy eyed fubbletrout. I hear they like to nibble on people''s toes, and I imagine looking like a shoe could help them with that."


    Lily paused for a moment, before looking back up.


    "So those aren''t shoes?" she asked.


    "Oh, no," the girl said, shaking her head quickly, whirling her hair around her. "I''m pretty sure those are shoes, unless the nargles replaced them with something else while I was blinking. I''m pretty sure they''re not fubbletrouts at the very least. You won''t usually find them outside the water, with them being fish and all."


    "You must be a very confident person to make that assumption, then," Lily said, with a smile.


    The girl blinked a few times, before grabbing her chin in deep thought.


    "I suppose I am, aren''t I?" she asked, before standing up and walking forward so she was no longer hiding behind the pillar.


    Being shorter than either Lily or Sally, Flynn had to assume that the girl was a first-year, since he doubted she was older than them, and he at least recognized all of the students in his grade by face, even if she was a Ravenclaw, judging from the colours of her robes.


    The girl stared at the shoes intently, tilting her head from side to side to look at it from different angles, as if she were seriously considering whether they were truly shoes or not before she jumped up on the spot, as if something had startled her.


    Immediately Flynn tensed up, as he glanced around for whatever she might''ve been scared by, before she turned to face him directly and gave a gesture that looked vaguely like a curtsey.


    "I haven''t introduced myself," she said. "I''m Luna Lovegood."


    Flynn glowered at her, feeling instantly foolish for tensing up at all.


    "I''m Lily. And this is Flynn and Sally," Lily said, in their stead. "Are you a first-year?"


    Luna stared silently at Lily for a few seconds before nodding, with more resoluteness than the question called for.


    "Yes," she said boldly. "I am. And those," she said, pointing up at the ceiling. "Are shoes. My shoes, to be exact."


    Flynn immediately glanced down towards Luna''s feet, only to see that her robes were long enough that he couldn''t see them. As if sensing the collective gazes, Luna quickly kicked out one of her legs, showing off her foot, devoid of a shoe, only being covered by a blue sock with orange stripes.


    "And I''m quite confident of that," Luna said, proudly.


    There was a long pause as, in a rare instance, Lily seemed to not know what to say.


    "I see," was what she eventually settled for.


    There was another long pause, as Luna stared at her with her foot still sticking out of her robes, before she suddenly decided to sit down on the floor, hugging her knees and staring up at the shoes wistfully, like she had spontaneously and completely forgotten about their presence.


    "Umm," Lily said.


    Luna gave a start, as turned to Lily with a surprised expression on her face.


    "Yes?" Luna asked. "What is it?"


    Lily hesitated, before giving a strained smile and speaking up once again.


    "You shouldn''t be out here on your own," Lily said.


    Luna tilted her head sideways.


    "I have heard the teachers mentioning that before," she said. "You''re not a teacher, are you?"


    "No," Lily said, only hesitating for about half a second before answering.


    "Are you sure?" Luna asked.


    "It doesn''t matter either way," Lily replied, apparently deciding that avoiding the question was easier than trying to answer it. "It''s dangerous for you to be alone regardless. Do you usually travel with your friends?"


    Luna tilted her head further, until she was resting it on her knee.


    "I don''t have any friends to travel with," she said casually, as if she was telling them what she''d had for breakfast.


    There was a short pause before Lily detached herself from Flynn''s side and walked over to Luna before gently taking the smaller girl''s hands in hers, to Luna''s utter bafflement.


    "We''ll be your friends," Lily said.


    "Oh," Luna said. "That''s very nice. I''ve never had a friend before."


    Lily made a strangled sound before gripping Luna''s hands tighter, to which Luna winced at.


    "You have very strong hands for someone so small," she said.


    "It makes grabbing people easier," Lily replied, as she pulled the younger girl to her feet.


    Luna made a small hum of understanding.


    "Should we get your shoes and go?" Lily asked.


    "I would love to," Luna said. "But I don''t know how."


    Flynn glanced up at the shoes, inspecting them once again, trying to figure out how they could get the shoes down. While it was difficult to try and take a pair of shoes down from a telephone wire, since the shoes acted like hooks, thankfully Luna''s shoes weren''t hanging from a wire by their shoestrings, but were simply floating in the air, as if held up by magic.


    It took Flynn half a second for him to realise that was because they were probably held up by magic.


    Glowering at himself for not realising the obvious, he pulled out his wand, ready to solve the magical problem with a magical solution.


    Drawing his wand back and casting it forward, he shouted out a familiar spell.


    "Retraho!"


    It was only when Flynn watched the wild sparks of magic flying from his wand, untamed and unrefined, that he realised that he might have made a mistake in his haste. While it was functional, he hadn''t developed his pulling spell to a degree where he could control its output, and with how many pillows he had accidentally torn apart over the Christmas break, he could only hope that his spell was unrefined enough that its lack of precision would make him miss Luna''s shoes entirely.


    Unfortunately for him, he was either skilled or lucky enough that he managed to hit Luna''s shoes directly, and with a loud bang, the shoes shot directly towards his face.


    The three girls around him let out a loud yelp at the sound, and with Sally still standing beside him, he made sure to grab her head and force her to duck the incoming shoes with him. The shoes hit the wall behind them, and the sound of leather slapping against brick echoed loudly in the halls, before Flynn figured it was safe enough to stand back up and walked over to inspect the shoes.


    He frowned immediately when he saw the damage, subconsciously letting out a strangled sound.


    While the shoes were technically still in one piece, they were noticeably damaged in comparison to what they had looked like a few seconds before. They were still wearable, on a technical level, but the tongue of one of the shoes had almost been torn off entirely, and was just hanging on by a small strip of leather, while the other shoe had its laces forcibly torn, destroying some of the lace holes entirely.


    Flynn stared wide eyed at the shoes, wondering just how much something like it would cost, before he heard a set of footsteps coming from behind him.


    Instinctively, he shoved the shoes into his pockets.


    "Flynn," Lily said. "Why did you put Luna''s shoes into your pockets?"


    Flynn scowled at her, gripping the shoes tight in his pockets.


    "I damaged them a little, but it''s nothing I can''t fix," he growled, as if daring her to challenge him on it. "I''ll give them back later."


    Lily raised an eyebrow.


    "Luna needs to walk now," Lily said.


    Flynn immediately kicked off his shoes, in Luna''s general direction. Though Luna''s eyes lit up in excitement, Lily gave Flynn a flat stare as she crossed her arms.


    "Flynn," she said. "Those are your shoes."


    "She can use them while I fix hers," Flynn said. "I didn''t like them anyways."


    "I''ve never seen shoes like these before," Luna said, her voice full of awe as she stepped into the very unremarkable sneakers, her feet only taking up about half of the space in them, making her stumble as she tried to walk around in a circle. "They''re very fashionable."


    "They''re nothing special," Flynn explained. "Everyone wears sneakers where I live."


    "Oh, I know what sneakers are. I''ve just never seen shoes this full of history," Luna said, right before almost falling over and landing on her face, before Lily caught her shoulders.


    "Flynn," Lily said, as she pulled Luna up to her feet. "Luna clearly can''t wear your shoes. Just give her her own shoes back."


    "No," Flynn responded, with no other excuses he could give.


    "Flynn," Lily said, her voice flat as she placed her hands on her hips. "Give it."


    Flynn scowled at her for several seconds, but when she didn''t budge, her expression unamused, he felt his shoulders droop down and he pulled Luna''s shoes out of his pocket and placed them gently on the floor.


    Flynn looked away as Lily glanced down at the shoes, not wanting to see whatever expression she might make.


    "Reparo."


    Flynn glanced back to see that Lily had her wand out, and was kneeling over a pair of shoes that looked completely new. Luna''s claps echoed quietly, the only sound in the otherwise silent hall, before Flynn heard a quiet snort as Sally turned to hide her face behind her hair.


    Realising that his mouth was hanging open, he snapped his mouth shut and turned around, quickly walking away.


    "Flynn," Lily called out. "Your shoes."


    "I don''t want them," Flynn grumbled back.


    - - - - -


    For the next few weeks, life continued as usual, with the exception of the fact that Luna has instantly carved a place for herself in their group, blending in so naturally that it took Hagrid a few visits for him to realise there was an additional blonde in his usual group of visitors.


    Flynn almost got detention on February 14th, after he punched a dwarf in the nose when it tried to shove a chocolate into his face, but he was excused after ten more students got in trouble for the same thing, and the dwarves were kicked out from the school by a furious McGonagall when one of them tried to kiss a seventh year Gryffindor girl, insisting it was a part of the valentine''s message he was being paid to deliver.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    One day after classes, Flynn was practising his spells in an abandoned classroom, as usual, and was followed by the gaggle of now-three girls, as usual. When Lily and Sally went to the washroom together, Flynn found himself alone with Luna for the first time, as she turned down Lily''s invitation to join them, not understanding the logistics behind how they could all go at the same time.


    Flynn was mostly content to ignore Luna, but at a certain point, while he was trying to refine his pulling spell, she walked up to him and squatted down by his side.


    Flynn lowered his wand, not wanting to risk accidentally hitting her with a flying chair, and glowered down at her.


    Luna met his glare with a curious stare, and when it quickly became clear that she would never receive his silent question, he decided to voice it.


    "What are you doing?" he asked.


    Luna blinked a few times before considering the question.


    "I''m avoiding the wrackspurts," she said.


    "What the hell are those?" Flynn asked, knowing by now that she wouldn''t explain unless specifically prompted.


    "They''re invisible," she said. "They float into your head through your ears and make your thoughts go all fuzzy. I thought I felt one floating around, and I''m not in the mood for them right now, so I thought I''d sit by you."


    "Why?" Flynn asked.


    Luna shrugged. "It''s not something that the experts agree on, but from my own experience, I''ve noticed that wrackspurts like going into the heads of tall people. Wrackspurts are pretty hard to avoid, but I thought that if I got closer to a more attractive target, they might leave me alone. Wrackspurts like silence too, and hate it when people talk outside of their heads, but I didn''t want to distract you. You seemed pretty busy."


    "You''re distracting me right now," Flynn grunted.


    Luna''s eyes widened slightly. "Am I?" she asked.


    Flynn glared at her, unable to tell if she was genuine in her surprise or if she was mocking him. Surprisingly, it was Luna that broke her gaze first to look down at the floor, resting her chin on her knees.


    "I''m sorry," she said.


    Flynn frowned, and debated on whether he should just keep practising his spellcasting, either by switching to a new spell or just accepting that Luna might get hit by a flying chair, but he had been sufficiently distracted to the point where he couldn''t help but stow his wand into his pocket.


    Looking down at the girl, he glanced at the door to make sure that it was still closed, before he sat down on the floor next to her.


    "Are wrackspurts really real? Or are you just fucking insane?" he asked, glancing around the room one more time to make sure that Lily and Sally weren''t around to listen.


    Luna glanced at him in surprise, before nodding her head.


    "They are," she replied. "I''ve had them in my head too many times to not recognize when a wrackspurt is around. They''re impossible to see, but we don''t rely on our eyes for everything."


    Flynn narrowed his eyes as he glanced around the room, not sure whether to take her seriously yet, but in either case, he gave up on trying to see them on account of their alleged invisibility.


    "You were trying to avoid them just now. Does that mean there''s one here?" Flynn asked.


    Luna stared at Flynn and furrowed her eyebrows in a moment of intense concentration, before her eyes shot open in surprise.


    "No," she said, tilting her head in confusion. "I was certain there were a few buzzing around my head a moment ago, but there isn''t a single trace of them around, and they usually don''t disperse this fast. It must have been my imagination."


    Flynn frowned, unable to tell if Luna was insane or not, but in either case he was certain that she genuinely believed in the existence of wrackspurts.


    He let out a noncommittal grunt that didn''t mean anything in either way.


    Luna parroted it with her own, as she placed her chin on her knees again, her face twisted into an expression of intense concentration.


    "Very strange," Luna said. "I know that there are some people like Lily who naturally seem to repel wrackspurts, but I assumed that was because she smells like oranges. Maybe your chicken smell has a similar effect. It seems I need to do a lot more research."


    Flynn stared at Luna, but she seemed to have forgotten about him entirely, as she mumbled something under her breath about what might happen if she hatched a chicken egg inside of an orange, but before she could complete her thought, Flynn heard a shrill scream coming from the hallway.


    His blood froze when he recognised the voice as Lily''s.


    "Stay here and keep the door closed," Flynn said, not waiting for a response before he got up and ran out of the room.


    Bursting out of the room and into the halls, he strained his ears to listen for the direction that Lily''s screams were coming from, but grimaced when he heard nothing but the heavy beating of his blood pounding at his eardrums, the initial scream being the only one she made before falling into silence. A moment of panic washed over him, but he realised that if he headed to the nearest girl''s washroom, he would probably find Lily.


    Though a feeling of dread washed over him at what he might find when he got to her, he fell into a full sprint down the halls.


    The nearest washroom wasn''t too close to the abandoned classroom that he''d been in, but he managed to make it there in less than a minute. Charging through the door, with no concern for the fact that he was running into a girl''s washroom, he almost hit Sally, the door passing only a few inches from her face.


    Letting out a startled yelp, she recoiled away and fell backwards, landing on her butt.


    Looking around, and seeing no sign of Lily, Flynn looked down at Sally, who was wearing a nervous expression on her face.


    "Lily ran out," Sally said, quickly picking herself off of the floor. "We need to find her."


    Not wanting to spare any breath to agree, Flynn simply nodded and ran out of the room, looking around for any signs of where Lily might''ve gone, he spotted a door to a classroom, slightly ajar and immediately sprinted towards it.


    The door led to a small classroom that looked like it hadn''t been used in some time, but that didn''t mean it was currently unoccupied. Immediately after he kicked open the door, the sole occupant looked up sharply at him, glaring at him through a pair of translucent glasses. She had her arms up in the air, like a cartoon spectre, but slowly lowered them to cross them over her chest.


    "Excuse me," the ghost girl said, frowning at him. "Haven''t you ever heard of knocking?"


    Flynn gave her a sharp glare, and was about to slam the door shut while yelling at her for wasting his time, before he noticed the small quivering bundle of blonde hair, barely visible from underneath the table that the ghost girl was currently floating over.


    Flynn gripped his wand in his pockets angrily, but with nothing in his arsenal to deal with ghosts, he didn''t pull it out.


    "Hey!" he shouted instead. "Go crawl back to the fucking hole you died in you ugly four-eyed bitch!"


    Surprisingly, the insult turned out to be much more effective than he expected. Though he had simply wanted to draw the ghost''s attention to him so he could hopefully lure it out of the room, instead of becoming enraged, the ghost''s annoyed expression immediately scrunched up and she started to bawl loudly.


    "Why is everyone being so MEAN to me today?" she said. "You''re the ugly one, you big old meanie!"


    "I don''t give a flying fuck about you, you fucking bitch," Flynn shouted. "Just fuck off!"


    The ghost girl let out a loud whine as she balled her fists up and wiped her eyes of the fat ghostly tears that were pouring down her face.


    "I just wanted to have a little fun," she said. "I was never a popular girl, and even after I died, everyone just thinks I''m annoying. I just wanted to bully someone, just a little bit. It feels good to make someone else feel miserable for once, I''m sure you would know."


    "Flynn," Lily said, in a shaking voice, though she didn''t lift her head from the foetal position she was in. "Help me."


    For some reason, that seemed to make the ghost girl cry even harder.


    "Of course! You''re here to protect her, aren''t you? From ugly old moaning Myrtle. I''m not a monster that girls need saving from, you know. I wouldn''t even be here if it weren''t for that horrid little girl who came into MY washroom and started yelling at me, but suddenly I''m a bad girl for doing it to someone else? Why can''t someone protect me for once?"


    "I don''t give a shit," Flynn shouted. "Just fuck off!"


    The ghost girl let out a wail and floated off into a random direction, with her hands over her face as she blubbered loudly. She flew directly into a wall, disappearing through it, the sounds of her sobs being muffled immediately.


    Flynn waited a moment with his hand still gripping his wand, before he decided that Myrtle wouldn''t be coming back. Rushing over, he knelt down underneath the table to look closer at Lily for any signs that she''d been hurt.


    Lily didn''t react at all to him, not even flinching as he got closer, but with how tightly wound up she was, he wasn''t surprised. Sitting down on the floor, hugging her knees over her chest and her face shoved deep into her knees, even with how loose her robes hung over her body, he could tell that her entire body was tense, like every one of her muscles was clenching at max strength.


    "Lily," Flynn said, as softly as he could, so as not to scare her.


    Lily seemed to twitch at that, though he wasn''t sure how she could tense up even harder than she already was.


    "Flynn?" she asked nervously. "Is that you?"


    Considering that she had already called out for him a moment before, and with how loudly he had been shouting, he was surprised by how unconfident she sounded, like she hadn''t actually noticed him until now.


    "Yeah, it''s me," Flynn said. "The ghost''s gone."


    Lily didn''t raise her head.


    "We should get out of here," Flynn said. "Can you stand?"


    Lily didn''t react immediately, but after a few seconds, her head twitched from side to side, in a vague movement that Flynn interpreted as her shaking her head.


    "Do you want me to carry you?" he asked instead.


    Again, she didn''t react immediately, but after a short pause, her head twitched up and down.


    Needing no further prompting, Flynn stood up and grabbed the table that Lily was hiding under and lifted slowly away from her, so he wouldn''t accidentally hit her head. Being careful not to scrape it against the floor, so as not to make any sudden noises and accidentally startle her, he gently placed the table down.


    Looking back at Lily, he frowned when he saw that she was still curled up in a way that would make her awkward to carry, but with how small she was, he figured that he could at least try to carry her as she was.


    Kneeling down and putting his hand gently around her back, he was surprised when Lily suddenly uncurled and turned towards him, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and her legs around his waist, clinging to him like a koala around a tree.


    Flynn decided not to say anything, especially not anything about the slowly growing spot of moisture against his shoulder, where her face was buried, and stood up, grateful for how easy it was to lift her with her clinging onto him, at the very least.


    Out in the hallway, he saw Sally looking around frantically, apparently having left the washroom too late to see where he had gone, and a look of relief and confusion appeared on her face when she noticed him.


    Even as Sally fussed over her, Lily refused to let go of Flynn, though she did seem to feel well enough to start answering Sally''s questions with quiet hums and nods, at the very least. Wordlessly, Flynn headed back to the classroom where they''d left Luna, and was surprised to find that the door was barred shut, like there was something heavy blocking it from the other side.


    Once Sally and Flynn managed to convince Luna to go against Flynn''s previous instructions, Luna opened the door and immediately complimented him on his fashion choices.


    Lily snorted, and immediately Flynn felt a wet glob hitting the side of his neck, before Lily frantically rubbed at it with her robes while mumbling an apology. Flynn grumbled something unintelligible in response, but didn''t complain otherwise.


    After Luna invited them into the classroom, as if it were her home, she mentioned something about nuzzleflops and Sally latched onto the offered topic eagerly, if only to help disperse the serious air a little bit faster.


    Sitting down on the floor, when it became clear that Sally was interested in learning the entire history of nuzzleflops, Lily continued to cling onto Flynn, only gripping him tighter whenever he suggested that she get the fuck off of him. It was only when he called her heavy that she spoke up, scolding him for daring to speculate on a lady''s weight.


    Despite the tension in the air dispersing almost immediately at Lily''s rise in her mood, she still refused to let go of him. By the time they left the classroom, it had gotten too late for dinner to still be served, so they went to the kitchens instead. While Luna immediately started to ask the house elves about how many different species of elves there were, and if any of them had ever personally met the elusive moon elves, Lily finally hopped off of Flynn, hiding her face as she ran to the nearest sink and washed her face in it.


    Though her eyes were still a little pink, Flynn didn''t comment on it.

 2.6 Aragog

    At the start of the Easter long weekend, Hagrid invited Flynn out for another outing into the Forbidden Forest to meet an old friend of his. Flynn accepted the offer easily, but was surprised when, on the morning that they would set out to go, he saw that Hagrid had barely packed anything for their trip.


    "It''s only a day trip, Flynn," Hagrid said. "We''re only going a few hours into the edge of the forest. We won''t even need te stay overnight. In fact, I encourage ye not te."


    "What do you mean by that?" Flynn asked.


    "Spiders are nocturnal hunters," Hagrid said casually, as if that explained everything. "Aragog''ll keep his kids in line, but they can be a bit rowdy sometimes, ''specially when they''re hungry. Won''t be a problem either way, but might as well spare him the trouble."


    Despite Hagrid''s explanation being much more ominous than he''d hoped for, he trusted Hagrid''s expertise enough to accept that there wouldn''t be any danger.


    Setting off with a backpack that was actually lighter than what he usually carried around, Flynn and Hagrid marched into the Forbidden Forest.


    With Hagrid''s vague hint that his "old friend" was somehow related to spiders, Flynn kept a lookout for any unusual signs of any eight legged creatures that might be showing off any unusual behaviour as they walked further into the forest. He didn''t see any signs of spiders whatsoever during the first hour or so of their walk, but at some point, the forest around them suddenly became surrounded in enormous webs that seemed to cover the entire forest canopy in a very unsubtle way, and he couldn''t help but feel a little silly for focusing so intensely to try and spot the tiniest hints of the presence of hidden spiders before that point.


    Thinking nothing of the fact that they were obviously wandering into the territory of something dangerous, Hagrid continued onwards, treading lightly and taking care to step on the parts of the forest floor that were covered in webbing, though he did occasionally reach up to tap a gentle finger against some of the webs hanging over him.


    "Try not te step on any of the webs," Hagrid said. "It''s not the end of the world if ye do, but it might be a pain te wash it off yer shoes."


    Flynn nodded, and heeded Hagrid''s advice, taking long steps to avoid the webs on the ground, even if it became increasingly difficult to keep his eyes on the floor after he noticed a large dog-sized spider hanging lazily from the underside of a tree branch about twenty feet above him.


    He glared at it, waiting for it to make any sort of movements, but before he could determine if it was dead, sleeping, or getting ready to pounce on his head, he noticed another spider out of the corner of his eye, resting in the hollow of a fallen log. Glancing around, he couldn''t see any more spiders lurking around, but he couldn''t help but shiver when he imagined how many of them were in this area that were creeping just out of sight.


    As Flynn looked around, noting all the paths that he could run down to escape the spider-infested area of the forest, he noticed Hagrid staring at him with a look of distressed embarrassment plastered over his face.


    Flynn glared at him.


    "If yer uncomfortable-"


    "Fuck off," Flynn hissed, pushing past Hagrid to continue towards what he assumed was the center of the spiders'' territory. "I ain''t a fucking pussy. Let''s go meet your friend."


    As they walked deeper into the webbed area of the forest, more and more spiders started to appear in the peripherals of Flynn''s vision, though he tried not to focus on them too much, knowing that there was no point since he wouldn''t be able to keep an eye on all of them.


    But even out of the corners of his eyes, he could see that unlike the ones that he''d seen at the edges of the webbed territory, the ones that he saw now were more active, even if it was only slight. An errant twitch of a limb here, a wave of the feelers there. None of the movements were strong enough to make Flynn want to flinch, but he started to wonder if he should start asking Hagrid about what they would be doing on their expeditions to the Forbidden Forest instead of just blindly trusting him like he usually did.


    Flynn blinked a few times in surprise and shook his head with a scowl.


    Purging any more traitorous thoughts from his head, Flynn walked forward with a scowl, until Hagrid slowed to a halt in front of him.


    Once Flynn looked up, it became clear to him exactly who and what Hagrid''s friend was, as it rested unmoving on an enormous web hanging in the nook of an enormous pair of redwood trees.


    "Aragog," Hagrid half-whispered, like he was trying to wake up the elephant-sized spider from an afternoon nap as gently as possible.


    The spider''s eyes, though they had already been open, blinked a few times as its feelers waved in the air. From how dimly the light of the sun bounced off its milky eyes, Flynn assumed that the thing was blind.


    "Hagrid?" the spider asked in a deep voice that was difficult to understand.


    "It''s me, buddy," Hagrid said again, keeping his voice low as he spread his arms wide, as if asking for a hug. "It''s been a while, hasn''t it, old friend?"


    Though the spider technically moved slowly for its size, Flynn had to struggle not to flinch as it took a few steps forward towards Hagrid, and by extension, Flynn. Thankfully, instead of having to choose between running immediately, or staying still in the face of a monster with fangs as long as his head was tall, the spider stopped suddenly and shuffled backwards into its web.


    "Ah, yes, Hagrid." it said, clicking its fangs together as it spoke. "It has been a while, hasn''t it?"


    Flynn blinked in confusion as he felt his muscles relaxing unconsciously.


    While Flynn would never call himself a people person, he was at least capable of reading and recognizing the more common emotions of annoyance, anger, and desperation from a person''s voice and body language, but with Aragog''s voice and body not being anywhere close to being human, he had to wonder if he was imagining the sense of annoyance that Aragog was exuding.


    "Aragog?" Hagrid asked, still with his arms raised in the air. "Buddy?"


    Aragog turned slightly to the side, and tucked its feelers into its body, in a way that reminded Flynn of the way a human might cross their arms over their chest.


    "Aragog?" Hagrid asked. "Is something wrong?"


    Aragog stayed silent for a moment before shifting and turning even further away.


    "I think I should be asking you that question, Hagrid," it grumbled, clicking its fangs together at every syllable.


    "What do you mean?" Hagrid asked, his concern quickly melting away to confusion.


    Aragog gnashed its teeth together as it turned back to Hagrid. Around it, Flynn gripped his wand when he noticed the rest of the visible spiders surrounding them creeping forward carefully. Aragog let out a loud snarl, but before Flynn could pull out his wand to start blasting anything with more than two legs, he realised that rather than taking it as a signal to attack, the smaller spiders immediately scattered away.


    "Why are you here, Hagrid?" Aragog asked, with a strange sound that sounded vaguely like a huff.


    "Do I really need a reason to see my buddy?" Hagrid asked, opening his arms again in another request for a hug.


    For some reason, the question seemed to annoy Aragog even more, as it gnashed its fangs together aggressively.


    "That is a question I have asked myself many times, Hagrid," Aragog said. "After all, it has been many moons since you last visited, perhaps a year in your time, and my children are not interested in conversation as you are, so I did not have anyone to ask other than myself. Do you need a reason to see me, or did I unknowingly give you a reason not to see me?"


    Hagrid''s mouth gaped open and his face paled, as he seemed to finally realize what Aragog was saying.


    "Aragog, no!" Hagrid said. "That''s not true!"


    "Oh, is it not?" Aragog asked. "Then tell me Hagrid. Why has it been so long since we''ve last spoken? Do you really need a reason to see your buddy, or not?"


    "I don''t!" Hagrid shouted out. "It''s just¡­ I''ve been really busy lately."


    "Quite," Aragog responded. "I understand, Hagrid. You are a great man, after all. You must be involved with many great things."


    Immediately, Hagrid blushed and scratched at the back of his head, while Flynn wondered how a fucking spider managed to convey sarcasm so clearly.


    "Oh, I wouldn''t dare te say I''m anything close te great," Hagrid said, clearly not getting the same impression from it.


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    "Oh, but you are," Aragog said. "And I''m sure you have many other great things to attend to, even now. Perhaps you should go attend to them."


    Hagrid didn''t respond immediately, but when he did, Flynn started to wonder if anyone would notice him if he just left. He was confident that he could make it back home, even without Hagrid''s help.


    "Are you angry at me?"


    Immediately, Aragog''s fangs stopped clacking together, but somehow the absence of sound was more deafening than the presence of it.


    "What''s his name?" Aragog asked.


    "Who?" Hagrid asked, flinching back when Aragog snarled at him.


    "Do not take me for a fool, Rubeus Hagrid," Aragog hissed. "Do not think that I haven''t noticed you sneaking around the forest to play with your new pet. Your new buddy to replace the old," it said, spitting venom along with the last few words, both figuratively and quite possibly literally, depending on the identity of the liquid that flew out of Aragog''s mouth.


    Hagrid stared at Aragog, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out.


    "Not even going to try and deny it, then?" Aragog asked. "A wise choice. It would not do you well to insult me any more than you already have."


    "Aragog, buddy," Hagrid said.


    "Do not call me, buddy," Aragog said, cutting Hagrid off before he could continue.


    "Aragog," Hagrid tried again. "I was gonna tell ye about her, I swear. She''s a girl, actually. A real sweetheart. I think ye''d love her. Her name''s Norberta."


    Aragog didn''t respond with words, but instead it clashed its fangs together angrily and flailed around in its web, digging deeper into it and tossing webbing over itself in an attempt to bury its entire body in it.


    "I do not care what her name is," Aragog hissed.


    "But you-"


    Flynn kicked the back of Hagrid''s legs.


    Hagrid jumped, probably more from the surprise than any actual pain, but nodded back at Flynn in thanks, giving him a sheepish grimace.


    "Aragog," Hagrid tried again.


    Aragog simply burrowed deeper into its impromptu pile of webs.


    "I was always gonna introduce ye to her," Hagrid said, speaking gently. "Ye believe me, don''t ye?"


    There was a long silence, before a muffled response came from the pile of webs.


    "I thought I did."


    "Ye still do," Hagrid said softly, kneeling down to pat at the pile of webs. "I''m still the same scared ole kid I was fifty sumthin years ago. You know me."


    "Then why, Hagrid?"


    "She was jes'' a baby," Hagrid said. "I had te take care of her, day n night, just doin my best with my clumsy ole self to keep her fed and happy. You remember how it''s like."


    The pile of webbing shook a bit, though it settled after a moment.


    "I suppose I do," Aragog said. "I''m sorry for how much of a burden I was on you."


    "Ye weren''t no burden," Hagrid said quickly, admonishing Aragog gently.


    "I was," Aragog replied, with a sigh. "If I had hunted for myself, perhaps I wouldn''t have been discovered."


    "Hey now," Hagrid said. "Ye were a baby. Ye would''ve died."


    "Maybe it would''ve been for the best. Then you wouldn''t have been wrongfully expelled for opening the Chamber of Secrets," Aragog scoffed. "Foolish humans, thinking that I was the monster in that horrid Chamber, but I suppose they weren''t so wrong to think that. Chamber or not, I am a monster."


    "Aragog!" Hagrid said, his voice suddenly firm. "Don''t ye ever say something so horrid. Yer no monster and ye never were. I''d get expelled a hundred times over if it meant that I could keep ye safe."


    Aragog didn''t respond immediately, but eventually let out a loud sigh before the pile of webbing started to shake, falling down in loose strands until Aragog started to appear once again.


    "I suppose you are and always will be the same Hagrid that I have always known," it grumbled.


    "I''ll always be yer buddy," Hagrid said, beaming up at the spider, opening his arms wide once more. "Even if ye don''t want te be mine."


    "Please forget that I ever said that," Aragog grumbled, as it reached forward to gently lay its feelers on Hagrid''s shoulders for a second, before quickly drawing them away. "You promise that you do not hate me?"


    "I promise," Hagrid responded easily.


    "And you promise that you were going to introduce this Norberta to me, even if I did not ask?"


    "O'' course."


    "Why not earlier?" Aragog asked.


    "Well," Hagrid said, scratching the back of his head. "I know you can''t move much, so I would''ve had to bring her here, and I thought that''d be dangerous, ye know, with the fire-breathing and all. I know she''s technically been a grown lady fer a bit now, but I just wanted te make sure she wouldn''t have any accidents."


    "This Norberta can breathe fire?" Aragog asked, recoiling back at the thought. "I can see why you thought it wise to delay our inevitable meetup."


    "I think she''s embarrassed about it. So don''t mention it to her that I told ye."


    Aragog chuckled at that. "Oh, Hagrid. I think it''s much too late for that."


    Hagrid frowned. "What de ye mean?"


    Aragog clacked its fangs together and shook its head in a distinctly human way, shambling slowly forwards. Hagrid smiled and spread his arms out again, but was gently pushed to the side by one of Aragog''s long legs as it continued to walk slowly forward towards Flynn.


    "I apologise for the display, young one. But I''m certain you are aware of Hagrid''s antics by this point," Aragog said, extending a feeler towards Flynn, offering it like a handshake. "From one pet to another, I greet you warmly, dear Norberta. Please refrain from burning down my home."


    There was a long pause of silence, as Flynn stared blankly at Aragog, before he gave Hagrid a flat stare, not willing to expend the energy to give any sort of explanation when it wasn''t his mess in the first place.


    Hagrid gave Flynn a stiff smile, but didn''t speak up until the silence dragged on for long enough that Aragog realised that something might be wrong.


    "Does Norberta not hear me, Hagrid?" it asked. "Or have I done something to offend her?"


    There was a short paused before Hagrid spoke up, wincing preemptively.


    "Actually, Aragog," Hagrid said. "I didn''t bring Norberta today."


    Aragog blinked with all of its many eyes at the same time.


    "Then what is this?" Aragog asked.


    "That''s Flynn."


    There was a short pause before Aragog lifted its head and let out a loud, dry screeching noise that Flynn might''ve winced at if it weren''t for the internal debate he was having on whether he should just try to knock himself out to avoid all the pointless drama he had no intention of acknowledging.


    "Another pet, Rubeus Hagrid?!" Aragog screeched. "How many more are there?!"


    "Aragog! Buddy! He''s just a friend, I swear!"


    Somehow, Hagrid managed to calm down the elephant sized spider down long enough to convince it that Flynn was indeed just a friend, and though Aragog still showed a small amount of suspicion towards Hagrid, it finally seemed to accept Flynn as someone who Hagrid cared deeply for (though not as much as he would a pet), and offered Flynn an apology for the unsightly display.


    When Aragog offered to give Flynn something in return for forcing him to watch such an unsightly display, Flynn ignored Aragog''s instructions to cup his hands in front of him.


    His defiance was rewarded when a glob of pale green liquid fell down, through where Flynn''s hands would have been and hit the floor, melting through the forest debris with a harsh hissing sound. Aragog stared at it for a few seconds, before apologising once more and insisting it forgot that most living things could not resist the venom of a grown acromantula.


    Though Hagrid took out his hip flask, downing its contents to fill it with the offered venom the second time around, the venom melted through the cheap metal and Hagrid threw the flask away instinctively, and Aragog apologized once again for forgetting that many nonliving things wouldn''t be able to resist the venom either.


    Having given up on finding a way to give Flynn his gift, Aragog promised that he would gift Flynn some acromantula venom the next time he came around, as long as he brought something that could contain it, as a friend of Hagrid''s was a friend of his. Wanting nothing more than to just leave, Flynn numbly nodded and turned around, heading straight towards the castle.


    It was only when they arrived back at Hagrid''s hut, when Flynn turned around to glare at a very sheepish looking Hagrid.


    "Next time you want to air out your dirty laundry, don''t invite me."


    "Sorry," Hagrid mumbled.

 Side Story: A civil discussion with the Golden Trio

    Living with the Dursleys had tempered Harry against any notions of self doubt to a degree, ironically because of how often the family would try to put him down, rather than despite it. After all, if there were any people in the world that he would trust to recognize signs of intelligence, it definitely wouldn''t be the Dursleys.


    But none of that meant that he was blind to his faults, either. Harry didn''t think of himself as a dumb boy, especially after having the unfortunate fate of knowing far too many truly dumb people to ever want to associate himself with that sort. That wasn''t to say that he thought of himself as being particularly smart either, but it wasn''t like he particularly wanted to be. That was Hermione''s thing, and the thought of trying to compete with her for the title was an exhausting one.


    As much as he liked having her around, he was immensely grateful for the fact that she was a girl, and that she slept in an entirely different dorm room from him and Ron. While Ron seemed to have the ability to tune out and ignore Hermione whenever she was going on a long rant about homework or something, Harry hadn''t had the luxury of practising that skill with the Dursleys when they would lock him up in his room if he tuned out at the wrong moment, leaving his only true sanctuary against Hermione in the washrooms and in the dorm rooms, though that had been proven somewhat wrong when she invaded the boy''s dorms to wake them up on Christmas morning, showing off that nothing was truly fair in the world.


    Harry couldn''t help but feel a little mean for thinking these things about Hermione, especially when she was one of his best and only friends, but she could be a little much.


    When Hermione made her little mistake with the Polyjuice potion that left her confined to the Hospital Wing for weeks, Harry did feel bad for her, but he couldn''t help but feel a little guilty with he recognised the small part of him that was a little bit grateful that he could get to spend the most of the Christmas break without any mention of homework. Homework! On Christmas break!


    Still, the guilt that he had for even feeling that way ironically made him want to spend more time with Hermione in the Hospital Wing than he might''ve spent otherwise. Though he didn''t have many particularly fond memories of the Hospital Wing, having visited it too many times himself, at the very least, Madam Pomfrey was kind enough to let Harry and Ron bring in a couple of seats from the Gryffindor common room. While she threatened them with a lifetime of detention when Ron so much as suggested that they could bring in a deck of exploding snap, perhaps due to the Christmas spirit, or simply because Hermione was the only student in the Hospital Wing, she was still much more lenient than she might''ve been otherwise.


    Though Pomfrey did kick the two boys out often to tend to Hermione, for the most part the three friends made the Hospital Wing their home for the rest of the Christmas break, and surprisingly, Hermione barely even mentioned schoolwork during that entire time, but also surprisingly, Harry might''ve preferred that to what they talked about instead.


    At the very least, when Hermione obsessed over schoolwork, Harry had Ron as an ally in suffering, but sometimes, when Hermione and Ron got into their heated discussions over their favourite subject as they often did, he wanted nothing more than to jab his quill into his ears to save him from having to listen to the same arguments over and over.


    "I''m telling you, there''s something off about him," Ron said, slamming his fist into his palm, and accidentally crumpling up the cards in his hand, apparently not even noticing that he had effectively ruined their game of exploding snap. Thankfully, they had borrowed Neville''s non-exploding version of the game, to appease Madam Pomfrey, but Harry winced as he made a mental note to apologise to the boy and buy him a new set.


    "Ronald," Hermione said, in the familiar tone of voice that she used whenever Flintstone, even if her voice itself was still affected by her botch transformation. "Will you lay off him already? He''s done literally nothing wrong to you. I really don''t understand what you''ve got against him."


    "Nothing wrong?!" Ron asked, flinging Neville''s cards away, sending a few of them flying underneath the neighbouring beds, where they would be forgotten forever.


    Though Harry hadn''t yet mastered the art of tuning out, it was a lot easier to do when he had heard Ron rant enough times to know what was coming even before he said it. "Hermione, he-" Almost got Harry killed. Is chummy with Snape. Practically lives in the Forbidden Forest. Even the newest argument that even Malfoy was afraid of Flintstone when they interrogated him as Crabbe and Goyle was old by now, despite only having happened less than a week before.


    "Ron," Hermione said, with an eye roll that looked a little unnerving with her cat-like eyes. "Flintstone-"


    Was saving me, he just made a mistake. Is a good student, it''s not a crime to be friendly with his Head of House. Is allowed to be there. And finally, Malfoy''s probably still spooked by the accident from the duelling club.


    Though Harry had his head buried in the throw pillow that he had brought from the Gryfindor common room in case something like this would happen, he could still imagine Ron''s glower clear as day.


    "Of course, I forgot that you were Fredericton''s girlfri-"


    Ron''s voice cut off as a fuzzy paw was slapped over his mouth.


    "Don''t even suggest that," Hermione hissed, her voice tinted with a tinge of fear as she looked around, no doubt scanning the room for any hint of the terrifying blonde witch that was Flynn''s friend.


    Even though they all knew that she was home for the holidays, and therefore not in Hogwarts, Harry couldn''t blame Hermione for wanting to make sure. He suspected that the only reason why Ron wasn''t accusing her of being the Heir of Slytherin, rather than Flintstone, was because he was scared enough of her to risk not saying her name out loud.


    To support his theory, Ron''s face immediately went pale as he seemed to realise what he had said, and seemed content to pretend like it had never happened, the only evidence of his slip-up being the few stray hairs that he brushed off his tongue when Hermione took her paw away.


    "Harry found something that might change your mind."


    Harry waited for Ron''s smug tone to fade when Hermione inevitably broke down Ron''s argument with words and logic as she always did, and it took him a long moment for him to realise that he was being dragged into the conversation, somehow.


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    "What?" he asked. "Me?"


    "Yes, you," Ron said. "Go on. Why don''t you tell Hermione what you found and then we''ll see who''s wrong about Fredericton?"


    Harry blinked a few times at Ron, watching as Ron''s smug smile faded slowly.


    "Well?" Hermione said, with her arms crossed. "I''m waiting."


    Harry glanced back and forth between Ron and Hermione, blinking a few times in confusion before he realised that they wouldn''t stop staring at him until he said something.


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about," Harry admitted.


    Ron''s mouth dropped open in an expression of abject betrayal.


    "Don''t tell me you''re taking her side," Ron said.


    "I''m not taking anyone''s side," Harry said, stopping Hermione mid-approving nod.


    "Then why don''t you tell her?" Ron asked.


    "Because there''s no amount of evidence that could convict an innocent man," Hermione said.


    "Huh?" Ron asked.


    "Harry''s not telling me anything, because there''s nothing to say," Hermione explained, with another unnerving eye roll.


    "That''s not entirely true," Harry said, though he immediately regretted his instinct to defend Ron when both of his friends turned to stare at him. "I''m sure Ron''s right when he said I had something to say. I just might''ve forgotten it."


    Hermione didn''t look impressed, and neither did Ron for that matter, but at the very least he seemed grateful for the weak attempt at defending his honour.


    "I''m talking about the book, Harry. The diary?"


    Suddenly, Harry remembered what Ron was talking about. Though they didn''t need much of an excuse to visit Hermione in the first place, they had wanted to tell her about what Tom had shown him the previous night. Though their original plan was to mention it casually over a game of snap, since Harry knew she might be upset at him for dabbling with a "clearly cursed" object despite her warnings, he had all but forgotten about it when Ron started yet another argument about Flintstone.


    When Harry started to tell Hermione the same thing he had told Ron, Hermione listened to the end, with a hard frown frozen on her face, though she didn''t try to interrupt him until he was finished.


    It was only when he finished his story, that Hermione spoke, her displeasure clear in both her growly voice and the way that the fur on the back of her neck stood up angrily.


    "Firstly, before anything else, haven''t I told you that you should throw that thing away, or at least give it to Dumbledore? It''s clearly a cursed object," Hermione said, predictably.


    "Tom seems like a good person," Harry said, with a shrug. "I don''t think he would be the type to put a curse on his diary."


    "Yeah, and making cursed objects is illegal," Ron chimed in. "He''s basically a worse version of Percy, and Percy throws a fit whenever he catches me skipping out on brushing my teeth. I can''t imagine a bloke like him doing anything like cursing a harmless looking book. That''s more of a Fred and George thing."


    "You skip out on brushing your teeth?" Hermione asked.


    "That''s besides the point," Ron said. "The point is that the book isn''t cursed. Trust me when I say people like them don''t do anything that''s ''against the rules.''"


    "I''m not saying that Tom has to be the one to curse it," Hermione said. "Another person could''ve cursed it."


    It was a familiar enough argument for Harry to know that they would never come to an agreement. "Cursed or not, I was in Tom''s memories," Harry said. "I don''t think what I saw was a lie."


    Hermione gave Harry a pointed stare, but seemed to accept his silent proposal to keep the conversation going.


    "So you think he''s telling the truth? That Hagrid was the one to open the Chamber of Secrets the last time?" Hermione asked.


    Harry frowned at the same time that Ron''s smug smirk fell off his face, as he seemed to realise that even if Hermione accepted the idea, it wasn''t necessarily a good thing.


    "I''m not sure," Harry admitted. "Hagrid''s a great person, one of the best people I know, really."


    "But he did raise a dragon last year," Ron said, repeating the same solemn thought process they had gone through in their discussion earlier in the morning, when Harry had told him. "We''re sure he would never hurt someone on purpose, but what if he was raising some sort of monster that got loose by accident?"


    "But why would Hagrid be the Heir of Slytherin? How?" Hermione asked.


    "Well, he might not be," Harry said. "Just because people think it''s Slytherin''s monster that''s running around the school, petrifying people, doesn''t mean it has to be. It could just be any old monster, really."


    "And Binns did say that the Chamber was just a myth, right?" Ron added. "Even though Slytherin''s monster was loose once already, it''s not like they ever found the thing, right? It doesn''t have to be Slytherin''s Heir that''s running around the school, just someone who''s pretending to be."


    Hermione blinked a few times in surprise. "That''s surprisingly insightful of you two," she said.


    Harry frowned, wondering if she meant that as an insult or not, but Ron didn''t seem to notice either way as he nodded seriously.


    "I''m pretty good at noticing things if I''m serious about it," he said solemnly. "And right now, all the clues are lining up."


    It was at this point that Harry lost track of what Ron was saying, but after a short moment, Hermione''s eyes narrowed as the short-lived admiration in them faded away to suspicion.


    "And you think that someone is Flintstone," she stated, more than asked.


    "Of course, it''s Fredericton!" Ron shouted, pounding his fist into his palm angrily. "Think about it! Everything lines up! Even if Hagrid has nothing to do with the so-called Slytherin''s monster this time around, I bet he''s still friends with a ton of monsters lurking in the Forbidden Forest. And who''s the only student who goes into the Forbidden Forest with him, Hermione?! Who?!"


    Harry sighed and buried his face into his pillow once more, not caring which one of his friends was right and which was wrong, as predictably, Hermione shouted back, telling Ron to stop being so stupid. In either case, he hoped that they would come to some sort of an agreement soon, or he would be tempted to try and suffocate himself with his pillow instead of just screaming silently into it.

 2.7 Righty and Lefty

    If Flynn had to choose a favourite day, out of all the days of the week, it would¡¯ve been Thursday and the reason for this was simple. Thursday was when he had a double period for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and while most people would¡¯ve probably thought him insane for thinking that was a reason to be anything other than miserable to be blinded by the shine of Lockhart¡¯s teeth for an hour and a half straight, Flynn couldn¡¯t help but be grateful for the man.


    Though a smarter professor might¡¯ve inspected the note from his Head of House excusing him from class for pre-existing responsibilities a little closer, Lockhart was content to simply glance in its direction each time Flynn walked into class and presented it to him, never questioning why the note looked identical each time.


    At times, Flynn genuinely wondered if the man was simply illiterate and too ashamed to admit it.


    Regardless, Flynn wouldn¡¯t question it, since it gave him several hours of free time throughout the week to do whatever he pleased with it.


    Oftentimes, Flynn would use the free period to study or practise on his own, but on Thursdays, Flynn would occasionally choose to spend the time exploring the castle instead, taking advantage of the otherwise rare moments to roam the empty castle without having to deal with teachers or other students.


    Flynn didn¡¯t like to think of it as roaming, not wanting to think that he was dedicating his time to something so pointless. He was trying to map out the castle in his mind, and though he was slowly coming to acknowledge that it was an impossible endeavor, not expecting to understand the ever-changing building within the seven years that he would be school there, it wasn¡¯t a waste of time to get more familiar with it, hoping that he would begin to gain a better understand the castle the more he explored if, even if it was just instinctual.


    It was on one of these Thursdays that Flynn found himself walking through an empty hallway on a floor that was either the sixth or the fourth, depending on how the castle felt like at the moment, when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.


    Instinct told him to hide away from the unknown threat, but before he could reach the nearest doorway, a pair of students turned the corner ahead of him.


    Flynn frowned, glancing at the two students for long enough to decide that he had never seen them before, and continued to walk forwards instead of hiding away, now that they could see him. While it was rare, it wasn¡¯t completely uncommon for him to come across the odd student on his walks, even in the most remote hallways of Hogwarts. The castle did have a tendency to twist and turn, and even a short walk to the bathroom could turn into a larger journey than they expected.


    But when the two students stopped in their tracks, Flynn couldn¡¯t help but stop in turn. Glaring up at them, he frowned when he saw a pair of identical grins staring at him from down the hall, far enough that if he wanted to talk to them, he would have to shout.


    Gripping his wand in the pocket of his robes, he tried to figure out what they could possibly want, but they spoke before he could even try.


    ¡°Ho, fellow redhead,¡± the left one said. He didn¡¯t shout, but his voice was still loud enough that Flynn could hear him clearly.


    ¡°Fancy meeting you in these hallowed halls,¡± the right one continued. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be in class?¡±


    Flynn narrowed his eyes. While his first instinct might have been to assume that he¡¯d stumbled upon a pair of prefects, but even if it weren¡¯t for the sarcastic way that Righty asked the question, he knew that there was always one male and one female prefect for each year.


    Though he had never seen them before, Flynn immediately had to assume these were the notorious twin pranksters of Hogwarts. He¡¯d never been caught up in any of their pranks before, not ever being near enough to a crowd that he would be affected by the general mayhem they liked to cause, and he hadn¡¯t expected to ever run into them during his stay at Hogwarts unless he gave them a reason to single him out for one of their pranks.


    Which he apparently had, if the way that they blocked the hallway in front of him was any indication.


    While the thought of simply turning around and walking away appealed to him, he could only assume that if they approached him once, they would do it again if needed. At least now, they were standing where he could clearly see them.


    When he pulled out his wand from his robes, he drew a little satisfaction from the way that both twins flinched back a bit, but they were quick to recover, both shaking their heads in the same disappointed way.


    ¡°Tut tut tut. That¡¯s a dangerous thing you''re waving around there, mate,¡± Lefty said. ¡°Could poke someone¡¯s eye out.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just here to talk,¡± Righty said. ¡°No need for any of that, y¡¯hear?¡±


    ¡°Just a little bit of friendly conversation,¡± Lefty agreed. ¡°You don¡¯t see us whipping out our wands, do ya?¡±


    ¡°So let¡¯s keep it in our pants, why don¡¯t we, firecracker?¡± Righty said, with an almost silent snicker. ¡°Don¡¯t want to go off for no reason now.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Lefty said. ¡°What about a nice chat, little Salamander?¡±


    ¡°Salamander?¡± Righty asked, his grin dropping slightly as he turned to his brother in confusion, temporarily seeming to forget about Flynn. ¡°What¡¯s that about, now?¡±


    ¡°A salamander,¡± Lefty repeated, though with a little less confidence this time at his brother¡¯s reaction. ¡°Y¡¯know? Cause he¡¯s a snake, but he¡¯s got red hair?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Righty asked, apparently just as confused as Flynn was.


    ¡°Red hair,¡± Lefty repeated. ¡°Like fire. And salamanders are reptiles, just like snakes, but the Ancient Greeks thought they lived in fire.¡±


    Righty blinked a few times, before recoiling away from his brother in something akin to disgust. ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked. ¡°Did you accidentally use Percy¡¯s toothbrush by mistake, or something?¡±


    Lefty instantly recoiled at the suggestion and quickly wiped his hands against his tongue, as if he had eaten something bad and was trying to get the taste of it off.


    Flynn seriously considered just turning around and leaving, but before he could make a decision on whether it would be worth it, Righty shook his head and turned back to him.


    ¡°Pardon my brother,¡± he said. ¡°As the inferior twin, it seems like he¡¯s taking to puberty a little worse than I am.¡±


    ¡°Careful there, George,¡± Lefty said. ¡°I know too many of your secrets for you to be spilling slander so liberally like that.¡±


    ¡°Fair point, Fred,¡± Righty said. ¡°Fair point.¡±


    Flynn was starting to feel a little foolish for taking the two so seriously, when they didn¡¯t seem to offer the same reaction to him. With their wands nowhere to be seen, Flynn wondered if they were confident or stupid, though he supposed that they were still at a distance where they would probably be able to react to any spell he casted in their direction before it hit them.


    The same could be said for him, but Flynn refused to put his wand away regardless.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Flynn asked, too tired of the twins¡¯ byplay to wait for them to finish on their own.


    Righty blinked at him in confusion, as if he had no idea what he was talking about, before his eyes widened in realisation and he coughed into his hand as if to clear it.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve been quite rude to you. Kept you waiting, haven¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°We sure have, George,¡± Lefty said. ¡°Well why don¡¯t we get to the point, then?¡±


    Flynn grumbled an agreement that he was sure they wouldn¡¯t be able to hear from so far away.


    ¡°Glad you agree, old chum,¡± Righty said, regardless. ¡°Y¡¯see if you haven¡¯t heard of us, we¡¯re the Weasley twins. Pranksters, truants, most handsome blokes in all of Hogwarts. Besides Filch, of course.¡±


    ¡°Quite famous, we are,¡± Lefty said, nodding along. ¡°Now you might be thinking why celebrities such as ourselves are approaching you, little Salamander.¡±


    ¡°Sticking with that, are we?¡± Righty asked.


    ¡°And just to be clear, this isn¡¯t a recruitment pitch,¡± Lefty said, ignoring his brother¡¯s question entirely. ¡°But we¡¯ve been somewhat interested in you for a bit now, even before you broke that poor Slytherin boy¡¯s arm in that dastardly duelling debacle. Call it a professional curiosity, but we¡¯ve been wondering how you¡¯ve managed to pull off a few things that even we¡¯ve had trouble with.¡±


    ¡°Such as skipping Lockhart¡¯s class for an entire year, without so much a hint of detention,¡± Righty said, finally recovering from his brother¡¯s nickname for you. ¡°And managing to get Peeves to like you.¡±


    ¡°Mind you, we¡¯ve managed to do the Peeves thing too,¡± Lefty chimed in. ¡°But we¡¯ve been here for two years longer than you have, believe it or not, and we¡¯ve only just managed to reach a mutual agreement with him earlier this year.¡±


    Flynn narrowed his eyes at the duo, but they didn''t seem cowed in the slightest, their grins completely unaffected even if they stole occasional glances at his raised wand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Flynn said.


    ¡°Oh, come on,¡± Righty said. ¡°Help a pair of fellow redheads out, why don¡¯t you? It¡¯s not like we¡¯re interested in busting you.¡±


    ¡°Just pure curiosity, really,¡± Lefty said. ¡°You don¡¯t even have to worry about us using your methods for ourselves. As we¡¯ve said, we¡¯ve already made an agreement with Peeves, and we love Lockhart¡¯s class. We¡¯re some of his favourite students, you see.¡±


    ¡°Really, it¡¯s everyone else¡¯s fault for not realising how much of a genius he is. Not that he¡¯ll ever think otherwise when we¡¯re around, or he might stop letting us use his name to order more Zonko supplies.¡±


    ¡°Such a good educator, looking out for the students. Really, why are fanged frisbees banned in Hogwarts when they¡¯re so good for helping the young folk building character?¡±


    ¡°Lockhart gets it,¡± Righty said. ¡°Or he would if he could read. Our running theory¡¯s that he¡¯s too embarrassed to admit he can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Not that it diminishes his greatness, of course,¡± Lefty said.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dare to dream of suggesting it,¡± Righty agreed, with a serious nod.


    ¡°So, how about it?¡± Lefty asked. ¡°Care to share with the rest of the class, Salamander?¡±


    Righty stared at Lefty again, and though Flynn couldn¡¯t make out exactly what he said to the other from so far away, they were both bad enough at whispering for Flynn to make out enough details of their conversation to figure out that they were arguing about whether Lefty¡¯s nickname for him was a good one or not.


    Though he couldn¡¯t care less about what they called him, it did give him a moment to think about what they were asking.


    He supposed the questions were innocent enough, at least on the surface. Even if he wasn¡¯t sure if the twins were just curious, or had a more nefarious purpose behind their questioning, he had already used Snape¡¯s note with Lockhart for long enough that he thought it might be risky to use it for much longer, and the issue with Hogwarts¡¯ poltergeist? Well, he wasn¡¯t really sure if he could give an answer to the question, since this was the first time he¡¯d ever heard of Peeves having an opinion on him.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t like he would give them the answers for free.


    ¡°What do I get in return?¡± Flynn asked.


    The twins paused, and turned to him.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± Righty asked. ¡°Sorry, I was a bit distracted by this embarrassment.¡±


    ¡°Glass houses, dear brother,¡± Lefty said, shaking his head. ¡°Glass houses.¡±


    ¡°What do I get in return?¡± Flynn asked, before Righty could respond and start another string of banter that Flynn was already getting tired of. ¡°You want something from me? What do you have to offer?¡±


    The twins stared at him, and glanced at each other before bursting out into laughter.


    ¡°You hear that, George?¡± Righty asked. ¡°We¡¯ve got ourselves a businessman here.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Lefty said, with a chuckle. ¡°A negotiator. Well, if you want something in return, it¡¯ll depend on what you¡¯re asking for, Salad Man.¡±


    Flynn frowned, not having decided what exactly he could ask for in return and if he was being honest with himself, it was difficult to think of anything worthwhile. He didn¡¯t barely knew anything about these two idiots and he didn¡¯t particularly care about them either. Quite frankly, he would be glad if he never came across them for the rest of his stay in Hogwarts. At first he was tempted to request that of them, to simply leave him alone, but he didn¡¯t want to risk coming off as being afraid of them in any way.


    Still, he had to think of something he wanted from them.


    ¡°Information,¡± Flynn said.


    ¡°Information?¡± Righty asked. ¡°Like a book?¡±


    ¡°Another redhead falling to the curse of the Percys,¡± Lefty said, shaking his head. ¡°A right shame.¡±


    ¡°How about a book on the Ancient Greeks?¡± Righty suggested. ¡°Surely Gred has got a few in his library that he¡¯s already memorised.¡±


    ¡°Oh, piss off, Forge,¡± Lefty said.


    ¡°Not a book,¡± Flynn said, trying not to get distracted by the banter. ¡°I want information that only you know that¡¯ll be useful to me.¡±


    Immediately, both of the twins stopped speaking, glancing at each other before turning back to him.


    ¡°Information that only we know, huh?¡± Righty said, making it obvious to Flynn that he had something in mind.


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    ¡°You wanted information that only I know,¡± Flynn said. ¡°I¡¯m just asking for the same thing.¡±


    ¡°The slimy lizard makes a fair point,¡± Lefty said. ¡°What do you say, Fred?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s agreeable enough, Fred,¡± Righty said. ¡°How about the old basic? Honeydukes?¡±


    ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± Lefty said. ¡°So what¡¯ll it be, Salamander? You give us half upfront, then we give you ours?¡±


    Flynn considered the offer, and though a part of him protested at the idea of offering two pieces of information up to the twins for one from them, he was just doing this for show in the first place. He didn¡¯t actually care about what they had to offer, and it wasn¡¯t worth pushing them for an equal trade when he doubted that they would be happy to find out that he didn¡¯t even have a proper answer for their second question.


    ¡°Deal,¡± Flynn said. ¡°I¡¯m able to skip Lockhart¡¯s classes because Snape gave me a note saying I could.¡±


    Both twins¡¯ eyebrows shot up at the same time.


    ¡°The old fake note trick, eh?¡± Righty asked. ¡°Reliable in a pinch, but it does have its drawbacks. How are you managing not to get caught?¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s only because it¡¯s Lockhart,¡± Lefty suggested. ¡°Doesn¡¯t work long-term on most of the teachers, since they¡¯ll eventually figure out that you¡¯re using their name to skip class, but I suppose Lockhart might not care enough about anyone but himself to ask.¡±


    ¡°Pretty ballsy to use Snape¡¯s name though,¡± Righty said, with a hint of admiration in his voice. ¡°We don¡¯t do it often ourselves, but when we do, we usually use Sprout. She¡¯s a sweetheart. Too good for this school, really.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be stuck washing cauldrons for a century if Snape figures you out,¡± Lefty said solemnly. ¡°I know he¡¯s a lot more chummy with you snakes, but I¡¯d still suggest using Sprout unless¡­¡±


    Righty¡¯s smile faltered as he glanced back at his brother, whose expression turned into one of shock.


    ¡°Unless what, George?¡± Righty asked.


    ¡°Unless,¡± Lefty said, pausing as if afraid to continue. ¡°Unless the note¡¯s not fake?¡±


    Righty¡¯s eyes widened, and he turned to stare at Flynn.


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Flynn said.


    Immediately, Righty and Lefty hunched over, placing their hands on their knees to support themselves as they made wild retching noises that echoed in the hallway.


    ¡°He really is a Percy!¡± Righty moaned dramatically. ¡°A teacher¡¯s pet!¡±


    ¡°Snape¡¯s teacher¡¯s pet!¡± Lefty added. ¡°I don¡¯t know whether to be terrified or disgusted. Probably both.¡±


    ¡°We made a deal with a Percy!¡±


    ¡°A sneaky Percy, tricking us with his class skipping to make him think he¡¯s one of us. Wait. He¡¯s still skipping class. Is he really a Percy?¡±


    ¡°You make a fair point. Though by no means can I condone getting chummy with a teacher.¡±


    ¡°We can count it as neutral. Just like how he goes into the Forbidden Forest, but only because he¡¯s allowed.¡±


    They both sighed, shaking their heads with an identical rhythm.


    ¡°You¡¯re on thin ice, fake-Weasley,¡± Righty said. ¡°We¡¯ve come to the decision that you¡¯re still neutral, but be careful. That just means a single misstep can make you a Percy.¡±


    ¡°Or a proper step, in this case,¡± Lefty said.


    ¡°Oh, of course. My mistake,¡± Righty said. ¡°Well, at the very least, you still have the chance to redeem yourself by telling us how you got so chummy with Peeves.¡±


    Flynn¡¯s eyes narrowed.


    ¡°I gave you half upfront,¡± he said.


    ¡°Ah, so you did,¡± Lefty said, with a grin, unashamed by their lazy attempt at trickery.


    ¡°Got a little prefect on our hands, don¡¯t we?¡± Right said, shaking his head in disappointment. ¡°Enforcing the rules, and such.¡±


    ¡°And such,¡± Lefty agreed. ¡°Come on, then. We don¡¯t have much time before the period ends.¡±


    When they started to walk away, Flynn¡¯s eyes narrowed and he pointed his wand at their backs. Though he didn¡¯t particularly care about what information they had for him, he didn¡¯t want to let them walk away with the false impression that they could just go back on a deal with him without consequences.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Flynn growled.


    ¡°To fulfill our end of the deal,¡± Righty said, turning around and quirking an eyebrow up in amusement at the sight of his raised wand. ¡°What? Did you think my brother was talking to me?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s better to show you than to tell,¡± Lefty said, not even turning around as he continued to walk away. ¡°And we won¡¯t be able to show you when the period ends, unless we want to advertise it to the entire school.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯ve wasted enough time already, listening to you chatter on,¡± Righty said. ¡°Anybody tell you you talk too much?¡±


    Flynn growled in response, but followed them without another word.


    While he kept a fair distance between him and the twins, making sure he was never too far from a room or a corridor he could run down in case they were leading him into an ambush, the route they were taking was innocuous enough, leading to the more central parts of Hogwarts that would¡¯ve otherwise been filled with students if it weren¡¯t for the ongoing classes.


    Though a small part of him couldn¡¯t help but be cautious when he realised they were leading him towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the class that he was skipping, they made a slight turn down a hallway that led back to the main foyer until they stopped in front of a statue of a one-eyed witch.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she a beauty?¡± Righty asked


    ¡°That she is,¡± Lefty asked. ¡°Sometimes I dream about her at night.¡±


    ¡°Every night,¡± Righty replied. ¡°You should be grateful that we stopped sharing a bed years ago. Sometimes the dreams get a little too much.¡±


    ¡°Oi! That¡¯s my future wife you¡¯re talking about,¡± Lefty hissed.


    ¡°Just because she¡¯ll have your last name, doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯ll be yours,¡± Righty hissed back.


    ¡°Is this all you two idiots had to show me?¡± Flynn asked, before Lefty could reply.


    ¡°Huh. That amount of casual disrespect has got to be worth at least two anti-Percy points,¡± Righty mused.


    ¡°Percy calls us idiots all the time too,¡± Lefty said.


    ¡°Right,¡± Righty said. ¡°Back to zero you go.¡±


    Flynn turned around and started to walk down the hall.


    ¡°Woah, woah!¡± the twins both said, jogging up to Flynn and grabbing his shoulders, turning him back around. ¡°Fine, fine. We get it.¡±


    Though Flynn wanted to use the wand that was still in his hand to blast them away the moment they had touched him, he somehow felt that he would somehow be letting them win if he let them know they were successfully managing to annoy him. Silently fuming, he let himself be led back to the statue of the witch.


    ¡°Pardon us for having joy in our lives,¡± Lefty said, with a roll of his eyes before he let go of Flynn¡¯s shoulder and stepped in front of the statue.


    Flynn almost flinched when he pulled out his wand, but Lefty had his back turned towards him and no tension in his body that made it look like he was looking for a fight. Flynn gripped his wand tight anyways as he watched Lefty tap the stone mound that the witch stood on.


    ¡°Dissendium,¡± Lefty said.


    Flynn watched as immediately, the stone quietly split open in two perfect halves, revealing a dark cavern within it.


    ¡°Geez, show a little reaction, won¡¯t you?¡± Righty said as he stepped forward to join his brother and spread his arms out like a showman. ¡°We present to you: The Hole!¡±


    ¡°The witch¡¯s glorious hole,¡± Lefty said, patting the witch¡¯s head fondly. ¡°Been sliding in and out of this old girl for years now. She¡¯s served us well, and now she¡¯ll service you.¡±


    ¡°The hole leads to Honeydukes,¡± Righty said. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to go to Hogsmeade on the weekends once you hit your third year, but if you want to get a bit of a headstart, or if you just want to go on the weekdays, this hole will do you good.¡±


    ¡°Just be careful about how long you spend there,¡± Lefty said. ¡°She closes up after a while, and if you don¡¯t have anyone on this side to let you back, you won¡¯t be able to come back to Hogwarts unless you¡¯ve got some sort of alternative method. We usually ask our friend to keep an eye on it if we ever go on a snack run.¡±


    ¡°So? What do you think? Impressive? Cream in your pants-worthy?¡± Righty asked.


    ¡°Canary creams are Fred¡¯s favourite, you see,¡± Lefty said, with a shake of his head. ¡°I keep telling him that there are other things to buy, but every time we go, he comes back with his pockets full of them.¡±


    ¡°I do love creaming my pants,¡± Righty said, with a serious nod. ¡°It¡¯s an addiction at this point. You think you¡¯ll come to love creaming your pants too, or what?¡±


    The twins both gave Flynn a very unsubtle sideways glance, failing to hide the snickers that threatened to bubble up from behind their lips. He didn¡¯t know if they expected him to say that he wanted to jizz in his own pants, or if they didn¡¯t think that he understood what they were talking about and were just laughing at their unsubtle inside joke, but in a moment of insanity, he considered playing along with them at the slowly growing realisation that for the first time in two years, he¡¯d met someone who actually seemed to understand how the castle worked and could teach him about it.


    But the moment passed and he scowled at the duo.


    ¡°The fuck is a Honeydukes?¡± Flynn asked.


    Rather than being disappointed, the twins¡¯ faces lit up in excitement.


    ¡°Ooh, we¡¯ve got a potty mouth, Freddie,¡± Righty said.


    ¡°We already knew that, Georgie,¡± Lefty said, though he still seemed pleased. ¡°We always check out the House Points board for anyone who shows promise as troublemakers, you see. We like to keep an eye out for anyone who might threaten our position at the top.¡±


    ¡°But we thought it would be some tamer stuff than that, given how the teachers almost always give you points for doing well in class right after they take them away,¡± Righty said, leaning forward. ¡°Tell me, snakey. Do you really swear in front of McGonagall? Snape?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Flynn grunted, seeing no point in lying.


    The twins¡¯ mouths split open in identical grins.


    ¡°We like you,¡± they said simultaneously.


    Flynn scowled to let them know exactly how much he cared. Unfortunately, that only made them smile wider.


    ¡°Well, to answer your question, Flintstone,¡± Righty said, before frowning. ¡°That¡¯s a mouthful. Mind if I call you, Flint?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that to the poor boy,¡± Lefty said, scowling at his brother.


    ¡°Oh, right. Forgot there was another one of those out there,¡± Righty said, shaking his head. ¡°Almost thought the world was a brighter place for a moment. Well, in that case, how about ¡®Flynn¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Still too similar,¡± Lefty said. ¡°How about we give him a suave nickname?¡±


    ¡°Like Salamander?¡± Righty asked, shooting a flat look towards his brother.


    ¡°Why, that¡¯s a wonderful name, oh brother mine,¡± Lefty said, with a serious nod. ¡°A spark of genius must have inspired you to think of that one.¡±


    ¡°Salamander¡¯s even more of a mouthful than his real name,¡± Righty said.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d say he deserves the effort,¡± Lefty said, crossing his arms with a huff.


    ¡°Suit yourself,¡± Righty said before turning back to Flynn. ¡°I¡¯m calling you Flynn. That alright with you?¡±


    Flynn grunted, doubting that his opinion would matter either way.


    ¡°Perfect,¡± Righty said. ¡°Anyways, my dear Flynn. My apologies. It¡¯s sometimes easy to forget, with your stature, that you¡¯re just a second year. Anyways, Honeydukes is a wonderful sweets shop down in Hogsmeade, a nice wizarding village close to Hogwarts. You¡¯ll be allowed to go there on the weekends once you¡¯re a third year.¡±


    ¡°Or during the weekdays, if you¡¯ve got some insider knowledge,¡± Lefty said, with a wink. ¡°And since Hogwarts students aren¡¯t even allowed out of the castle on the weekdays, most of the folks down there¡¯ll just assume you¡¯re of age, if you¡¯re looking to buy some firewhiskey.¡±


    ¡°We partake on occasion,¡± Righty said. ¡°But the real perks are in selling our services to the older years who want to forget it¡¯s their NEWT year.¡±


    ¡°A free tip, since we won¡¯t ever compete for clientele,¡± Lefty said. ¡°Not like a snake would ever trust anything we¡¯d sell them.¡±


    ¡°Frankly, I¡¯m a little shocked that our own housemates do,¡± Righty admitted. ¡°Ashamed of it even. Maybe we need to spike one of them, just to keep them on their toes.¡±


    ¡°Something to consider for later,¡± Lefty said. ¡°So, Salamander. Does that answer your question?¡±


    Flynn eyed them warily, not wanting his reaction to show on his face. He didn¡¯t trust them enough to blindly assume that they were telling the truth, but even the possibility that they had told him about an actual secret passageway was something that he had to seriously consider. Even if he never ended up using this one in particular, the fact that they had dropped this piece of information so casually, along with the fact that they had described it as one of their ¡°basic¡± secrets that they had, made Flynn think that they knew much more about the castle than they were letting on.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Flynn said, not admitting to them that the secret passageway was useless to him, since it required having someone he trusted to let him back into the castle on his return.


    ¡°And that fulfills our end of the deal,¡± Righty said, clapping his hands together, as if dusting them off. ¡°Now, for you to fulfill yours.¡±


    ¡°Why does Peeves like you?¡± Lefty asked.


    Flynn grimaced at the reminder. While he hadn¡¯t cared about giving them a satisfying answer at first, that was before he¡¯d thought that the twins would give him anything substantial in return.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure you¡¯ll like the answer,¡± Flynn admitted.


    Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect, as the twins¡¯ eyes widened and their already smiling mouths widened even further.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry about that, Flynnie,¡± Righty said. ¡°We won¡¯t get angry. Promise.¡±


    ¡°Whatever it is that you¡¯ve done, we¡¯ve probably done worse,¡± Lefty added. ¡°Or if we haven¡¯t, we¡¯ll do our best to fix that.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t what he had meant and Flynn¡¯s grimace only grew as the twins looked at him expectantly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why Peeves likes me,¡± Flynn admitted.


    The smiles immediately turned crooked, as the two twins glanced at each other, and then back at him.


    ¡°You¡¯re joking, right?¡± Lefty asked.


    Flynn shook his head.


    ¡°Never even talked to him before,¡± he admitted.


    ¡°Never?¡± Righty asked, though he seemed more curious than skeptical.


    Flynn shrugged, not thinking the question deserved a response.


    The twins looked at each other once more.


    ¡°Well, George,¡± Righty said. ¡°It seems like we¡¯ve been right swindled.¡±


    ¡°It does seem that way, Fred,¡± Lefty said solemnly. ¡°For shame, Salamander. I had more faith in you.¡±


    ¡°We were on the edges of our metaphorical seats,¡± Righty added. ¡°Just to have them ripped away. I¡¯d respect it if I weren¡¯t so blindingly furious.¡±


    ¡°Oh absolutely,¡± Lefty said. ¡°Our trust betrayed, unmendable by even the most powerful of magicks. Unless our little slimy friend has something else to offer?¡±


    Flynn glared at the smiling faces of the twins, who in no way seemed offended despite their words.


    In response to their smirks, he gave them a scowl.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Flynn said. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a tip. If you want to get away with causing trouble, just work hard in class.¡±


    The smiles dropped from the twins¡¯ faces almost immediately, and Flynn¡¯s lips curled back in satisfaction at the sight.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he continued. ¡°As long as you study hard, hand in your work on time, and act like a good student, you¡¯ll get away with a lot of things. Make sure to go to their office to ask for help outside of class too.¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± Righty said, with a shudder. ¡°We get it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you are a Percy,¡± Lefty said, grabbing his shoulders as if he was protecting himself from a sudden chill. ¡°How could you say such vile things?¡±


    Flynn scowled at them once more, not caring anymore about building a potential relationship with the two. Even if they did know more secrets about Hogwarts, he wouldn¡¯t bend over backwards for anyone.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me for free shit and complain about it,¡± Flynn said. ¡°I promised you an answer, and I fucking gave you one. Just because you fucking idiots expected something more, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s my fault for not giving you one. I told you all I know. As far as I¡¯m concerned, I¡¯ve fulfilled my end of the deal. If you want to figure out why Peeves likes me, fucking ask him yourself.¡±


    The twins stared at Flynn for a moment, before their grins returned simultaneously.


    ¡°Aww, don''t get so riled up, Flynnie,¡± Righty said. ¡°We were only joking.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a little scam attempt between friends, right?¡± Lefty asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re not friends,¡± Flynn growled.


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t be so coy,¡± Lefty said, shaking his head. ¡°We know you like us.¡±


    Flynn glared at him, though he didn¡¯t bother to respond to the claim, not even wanting to acknowledge it.


    ¡°Though, even if it was a little difficult to listen to you, with how whiny your voice was, you did make a fair point,¡± Righty said. ¡°Why didn¡¯t we ask Peeves?¡±


    ¡°Because, my dear brother,¡± Lefty said, clapping his brother on the shoulder fondly. ¡°As a wise man once said, we¡¯re both fucking idiots.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Righty said solemnly. ¡°How true.¡±


    Flynn glared at them, mentally calculating the consequences of blasting them with the wand still gripped in his hand, before the murmur of students started to echo down the hallway.


    ¡°Welp,¡± Lefty said, pulling out his wand and tapping the stone statue twice, closing the secret passageway beneath it. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s enough of our time today.¡±


    ¡°See you around, Flynnie,¡± Righty said, waving backwards as he walked down the hall. ¡°Got to get to our next class early. Real eager to see if your advice works or not. You think it¡¯s too late to try and rewrite four years of bad rep?¡±


    ¡°We might as well give it a try,¡± Lefty said, his voice trailing away as he jogged after his brother. ¡°It could be fun to act like model students for a few days. I can imagine it would make a few people nervous.¡±


    ¡°Oh, the classic no-prank prank,¡± Righty said. ¡°Psychological.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been too spoiled this year with Lockhart anyways,¡± Lefty said. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t become too reliant on having props all the time.¡±


    ¡°Right you are.¡±


    As the duo walked away, practically forgetting about Flynn as they discussed the possible reasons why Lockhart would get fired by the next year, Flynn watched them go until they turned down a hallway and disappeared.


    Glancing at the statue beside him, he raised his wand in consideration for a moment before he heard the voices of the students just finishing up with class getting louder as they approached in his direction.


    Putting his wand away, he walked away from the crowd.

 2.8 The Final Straw

    It was a Sunday morning. The weather was beautiful, with a bright sunny sky without a cloud in the sky. If Flynn was outside, he was sure he would be feeling a gentle warm breeze brushing against his skin, just cool enough for it to feel refreshing.


    But he didn¡¯t. In a dark corner, he sat, with his back against the wall and a book in his lap, pulled from one of the nearby shelves. His stomach was full and his pockets were empty of food, but he would fill them again once he left the library, not wanting to risk the ban from the library if Pince ever caught him with anything perishable near her precious books, but he knew he could simply fill them with a quick trip to the kitchens whenever he chose to leave. The air was tepid and smelled of old paper, but the leather that bound a majority of the books gave off a stench that was distractingly pleasant for some reason.


    He didn¡¯t like studying in the library for that reason, having to spend too much of his energy simply focusing on his textbooks and not falling victim to lazy tranquility that threatened to invade his mind whenever he sat there, but he didn¡¯t have a note from Snape that would allow him to take the books out of the library and he was certain that Pince would somehow notice if he borrowed one away without permission, no matter how ratty and worthless the books were.


    Currently, Flynn was looking down at a secondhand copy of the Third Year Charms textbook. It was about a hundred years old, and twelve versions outdated, if Pince was to be believed, but also worth a hundred times more than anything he¡¯d ever amount to in his life. If Pince was to be believed.


    Flynn had to wonder if the crude scribbles of animated dicks in the textbook added to its value or not.


    Scowling at a scribble as it did unspeakable things to a wand movements diagram for the Cheering Charm, Flynn closed his book quickly at the sound of a loud thud as the library door was pushed violently open.


    ¡°Quiet in the library,¡± Pince said, in a hissed whisper that somehow pierced through the air entirely.


    ¡°I need to find a book,¡± a hurried voice hissed back, at an equal volume.


    Flynn frowned as he recognised the voice, but turned his attention back down at the book, committing the charm to memory as he tried to ignore the argument between the annoying girl and the annoying old bat, whispered at a volume and pitch that was just barely audible enough to not be understandable, but still be annoying.


    It was only when the girl let out a sound of barely audible frustration and stalked off, before Flynn frowned and closed his book, hiding it behind his back.


    His caution was quickly paid off in full, when Hernione, with her eyes sweeping the library wildly, spotted him sitting against the wall and quickly walked over to him, moving barely fast enough to avoid being yelled at by Pince.


    ¡°Flintstone,¡± she whispered, once she got close enough. ¡°Would you mind helping me with something?¡±


    Flynn scowled at her, his grip against the third year textbook hidden behind his back tightening as he tried to scare her away through sheer force of glare,but when Hermione met him with her own stare, he almost flinched back at the desperate, almost manic look in them.


    He scowled at her again, but when he realised that she wouldn¡¯t be cowed, he hid the textbook away in his waistband, not wanting anyone to realise that he was reading ahead to ensure that he wouldn¡¯t fall behind next year.


    ¡°If I help you, will you leave me alone?¡± he asked.


    Hermione quickly nodded.


    Flynn sighed.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked, already regretting his decision.


    ¡°I need to find a book on magical creatures, specifically snakes,¡± she said.


    ¡°Why not ask the librarian?¡± Flynn asked.


    ¡°I did, but she¡¯s being frustrating,¡± Hermione said, scowling at her general direction, though her direct line of sight towards the old bat was blocked by a large shelf of books. ¡°Usually, I can deal with her, but this is very important and I can¡¯t waste any time arguing with her.¡±


    Flynn sighed, both grateful that the problem was benign enough to solve so easily and annoyed that she couldn¡¯t have dealt with the problem herself in the first place. Walking forward, he pushed past Hermione and shook her hand off his shoulder when she tried to stop him from passing.


    ¡°Flintstone!¡± she hissed. ¡°You promised to help!¡±


    He didn¡¯t bother dignifying her with a response as he ignored her attempts to stop him, and walked out from in between the shelves. Immediately, Pince locked eyes with him and steepled her fingers together as she glared at him with open hostility.


    ¡°You heard her,¡± Flynn said, loud enough that he knew that his voice could be heard even from so far away. ¡°She wants a book on snake monsters.¡±


    Pince immediately scowled at him and raised a finger to her lips, letting out a shushing noise that was so sharp it almost sounded like a whistle.


    ¡°Quiet in the library brat,¡± she hissed. ¡°I won¡¯t have such blatant disrespect in this place of knowledge.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck off with that,¡± Flynn responded. ¡°We¡¯re literally the only three people here, and you¡¯re either stupid or deaf if you don¡¯t realise that you¡¯re being louder than I am. Just do your fucking job, you old bat.¡±


    Pince glared at Flynn, before she raised her finger in the air. Flynn grabbed at his wand out of instinct, but kept it in his pocket as he watched a piece of paper fly out from behind the counter. With his free hand, Flynn snatched it out of the air before it could fly directly into his eyes.


    ¡°Could¡¯ve saved me the fucking trouble of asking,¡± Flynn grumbled.


    ¡°Watch it, brat,¡± Pince said, with the only thing stopping her from spitting being how dry and raspy her throat must have been, from the sounds of her voice. ¡°One step out of line and I¡¯ll skin you alive and use it to bind a instructional book on the history of latrines.¡±


    Flynn ignored her and turned around and walked away.


    ¡°Is that one of my books in the back of your pants?!¡±


    A shiver ran down Flynn¡¯s back in surprise that Pince had managed to notice the lump in his back underneath his robes from so far away, and simply decided not to acknowledge the question as he retreated, or walked rather, back in between the row of shelves that he¡¯d left Hermione in.


    ¡°Here,¡± he said, holding the note up to her. ¡°Now leave me alone.¡±


    Hermione stared up at him, her previous mania replaced with a pale-faced and bug-eyed look of disbelief and fear.


    ¡°Y-you shouldn¡¯t talk to faculty like that,¡± Hermione squeaked out, whatever fears she had motivating her before being easily dwarfed by her reaction to the casual disrespect of authority.


    Flynn glared down at her.


    ¡°If you¡¯ve got a problem with it, I¡¯m throwing this out,¡± he said, waving the note in front of her face once.


    Thankfully, either the threat or the movement of the paper seemed to snap her out of her fugue state as she snatched the paper from his hands and scanned it quickly with her eyes.


    ¡°Thank you Flintstone,¡± she said, as she ran past him, bumping against his shoulder and nearly stumbling to the floor in the process. ¡°You¡¯ve done a good thing.¡±


    Pince screamed at Hermione to stop running in the library, all pretense of keeping quiet in the largely empty library completely discarded, but Hermione either ignored her or somehow managed not to hear her as she scoured the shelves and pulled out every book on the short list that Pince had written out for her.


    Flynn sat back at his previous spot, making sure to keep an eye out and hide the cover of the textbook in case Hermione came back, but surprisingly, she never did. It was only a few minutes later that he heard the loud thump of a book and hurried footsteps, followed immediately by a loud screech from Pince that Hermione didn¡¯t respond to as she ran out of the library.


    Finally as the moment of peace settled back in the silence of the library, Flynn let out a content sigh and let himself fall back into the textbook for about thirty minutes before the doors burst open once more, but this time, it wasn¡¯t followed by an ear-piercing shriek.


    ¡°Irma,¡± McGonagall¡¯s voice in the library, with no care given to the rules of the place. ¡°Are there any students in here?¡±


    ¡°Just one,¡± Pince grumbled, though Flynn wasn¡¯t sure if it was because she was upset that the Deputy Headmistress was one of the few people she couldn¡¯t yell at, or if it was her default way of speaking. ¡°Hiding in the back corners like a little rat.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t refer to our students as vermin,¡± McGonagall said offhandedly, not bothering to linger on the point before turning her voice in his direction. ¡°If you would, student. Please come with me.¡±


    Flynn grumbled, considering the possibility of pretending like he hadn¡¯t heard, but he knew McGonagall was the type of person who didn¡¯t appreciate any bullshit. Especially with how agitated she sounded, he didn¡¯t want to risk annoying her, so he stowed away his secondhand textbook on a tray, marking it to be returned to the shelves, before walking out from behind the shelves.


    ¡°Mr. Fredericton,¡± McGonagall said, nodding quickly in his direction. ¡°You are alone?¡±


    If it weren¡¯t for the way that McGonagall¡¯s wide eyes darted from left to right, as if frantically begging for her own assessment to be wrong, he might¡¯ve assumed she was trying to insult him. As it were, Flynn frowned, trying to understand what was going on.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, resisting the urge to ask her if she had a problem with that.


    McGonagall grimaced, but barely look at Flynn before her eyes darted back to her colleague.


    ¡°Irma,¡± McGonagall said. ¡°Would you please escort Mr. Fredericton to his common room?¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Irma shouted, any respect towards her colleague forgotten as her face twisted in annoyance.


    ¡°There¡¯s been another attack, Irma,¡± McGonagall said, gravely. ¡°Another double attack. Just outside your library.¡±


    Pince¡¯s eyes widened for a split second, before reverting to her usual grimace as she glanced towards Flynn.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she practically spat out. ¡°Come on, brat. Better you dirty up your own den rather than this place of sanctuary, anyways.¡±


    ¡°Irma,¡± McGonagall said, her scolding tone sounding like she would launch into a lecture on how to treat the students, but instead she nodded curtly towards both the librarian and to Flynn.


    ¡°I must be off to warn the rest of the school,¡± she said. ¡°Stay safe, the both of you.¡±


    With another quick nod, McGonagall turned around and walked out of the room as fast as she could without breaking into an outright run.


    ¡°Come on, then,¡± Pince grumbled, standing up from behind her desk and walking out from behind it for the first time since he¡¯d met her. She was surprisingly taller than he might¡¯ve expected, and he almost had to jog to keep up with her quick walk out of the library.


    With neither of the pair interested in starting a conversation, Flynn followed Pince down to the dungeons until they reached the door to the Slytherin dorms, where Pince immediately turned around and left Flynn without another word.


    Not caring to pay her any mind, Flynn spoke the password to the dorms and walked into the completely empty common room and made his way to his dorm room, not interested in staying behind when the rest of the students eventually crowded in.


    It only took about fifteen minutes for Blaise to come into the dorm room, sighing and sitting down on his bed. It took about thirty more seconds for him to notice Flynn and let out a sharp hiss, grasping his chest in shock.


    ¡°Don¡¯t scare me like that, Fredericton,¡± Blaise hissed.


    Flynn shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for a while,¡± he said. ¡°Not my fault you didn¡¯t notice me.¡±


    Blaise scowled at him.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe anyone could ever be worried about a prat like you,¡± Blaise grumbled.


    Flynn frowned and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.


    ¡°Not me, you prat,¡± Blaise said, rolling his eyes. ¡°Your girlfriend accosted me at the quidditch game as soon as McGonagall came out on the pitch to cancel it. Said to make sure you were safe, as if I could do anything about it.¡±


    Flynn¡¯s frown deepened into a scowl.


    ¡°What girlfriend?¡± he growled.


    Blaise only rolled his eyes in response.


    ¡°I can only imagine it was another monster attack, as if it could be anything else,¡± he said, ignoring Flynn¡¯s question completely. ¡°Honestly, it might do you some good if you were attacked. Would make you a better conversationalist, at the very least, and you¡¯d be less liable to give me a heart attack by popping up randomly.¡±


    Flynn glared at him.


    ¡°I was here first,¡± he grumbled.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Blaise grumbled back. ¡°But it wouldn¡¯t kill you to say hello instead of brooding in silence, would it? Oh, who am I kidding? I wouldn¡¯t be too surprised if it did.¡±


    Flynn scowled.


    ¡°Come on then,¡± Blaise said. ¡°I was only coming in here to rest my legs a moment and use the washroom, even if you nearly took care of that for me, but we¡¯ve got to go to the common room soon. I imagine Snape¡¯s got an announcement to make.¡±


    Flynn grumbled again, even if he wasn¡¯t sure why.


    Once Blaise retreated to the bathroom, Flynn left the dorm to see that the common room was full of Slytherin students and with the exception of a few giddy idiots like Draco who were loudly proclaiming that the ¡°mudbloods¡± were getting what they deserved, a majority of the students murmured amongst themselves nervously.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Snape arrived a few minutes later, with a few stray students in tow, and made an announcement confirming that two more students had been petrified, though he didn¡¯t announce who those students were even after Draco asked, only confirming that they were not any students from Slytherin.


    Flynn¡¯s heart sank after each announcement that followed. Students were to be escorted between classes, to the washrooms, and a strict curfew confined him to the Slytherin common room and dorm room after 6 PM, when dinner was finished.


    But the last thing that Snape said before he closed the parchment he was reading off of was the most harrowing piece of news, overshadowing everything that preceded it.


    ¡°It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. If you believe that you have any information regarding these attacks, do not hesitate to let myself or another faculty member know.¡±


    ¡°Nobody knows anything here, Professor,¡± Draco shouted, with a smile. ¡°And if they do, I¡¯m sure they¡¯d keep quiet about it, at least until the Heir¡¯s done with purging out all the mudbloods first.¡±


    Snape scowled at the boy, in a way that almost made it look like he was trying to put on a stiff smile.


    ¡°Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,¡± he said, before turning around immediately and walking out of the room, giving nobody else a chance to say anything stupid.


    Flynn¡¯s mind raced at the possibility of the school being closed down as the murmur of students erupted around him, nervous whispers dominating the room despite the few idiots that were too stupid to realise that they lived in the same school that the monster was loose in.


    He scowled, unable to ignore the continued whispers of the students who were loudly wondering if it would just be better to go back home at this point, but for Flynn, that simply wasn¡¯t an option.


    The school had to stay open, but could he even do anything about it?


    Flynn rushed out of the room, ignoring the shouts of the Slytherin Prefects, saying that it was dangerous outside.


    It was something he already knew, and Flynn gritted his teeth as he pushed open the door to the dorm and braced himself for the possibility that he might suddenly be frozen to the spot. He wondered if he would even realise it if he were to be petrified, and a quiet chill ran through him at the realisation of the possibility that the victims of petrification might be completely lucid, prisoners of their own flesh for months on end.


    He tried not to think about it as he ran out of the dungeons. Snape hadn¡¯t left too long ago, and though the Professor had moved with hurried steps, Flynn couldn¡¯t imagine him outright running. Hopefully he could catch up before he got too far.


    Thankfully, it didn¡¯t take long for Flynn to hear the sound of echoing footsteps, the sound travelling easily with how empty the hallways were. Heading towards the direction, Flynn ran as fast as he could, his eyes darting around for any sign of danger, but not stopping to linger on anything as he focused on the sound of retreating footsteps instead.


    Thankfully, it didn¡¯t take too long for Flynn to spot the black clad Professor stalking down the halls of Hogwarts.


    ¡°Professor Snape!¡± he called out.


    Immediately, the Professor turned on his heel, whipping his cloak around him as he pointed his arm in Flynn¡¯s direction. Flynn flinched back at the obvious threat behind the arm that Snape pointed in his direction, even if he couldn¡¯t see any hint of a wand hidden inside his long dark robes.


    Snape was quick to recover from his surprise, thrusting his arms down to his sides, trying his best not to look like he hadn¡¯t pointed a hidden wand at his student, and marched back to meet Flynn, with fury practically emanating from every step he took.


    ¡°Mr. Fredericton,¡± he said. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡±


    Flynn felt a wave of heat wash over him at the thick tone of annoyance that coated every word.


    ¡°You said I shouldn¡¯t hesitate to talk to you if I thought I knew something about the attacks,¡± Flynn said defiantly, as if convincing himself just as much as Snape, that he was allowed to talk.


    ¡°Fool boy,¡± Snape hissed. ¡°Did you not hear me when I said that students were no longer allowed to roam the castle without teacher supervision, or did your hearing only begin to work long enough to hear the last thing I said?¡±


    ¡°I thought it was important enough to risk it,¡± Flynn said, with a glare.


    Snape scowled at that, before he shook his head.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± he said, as he started to walk back towards the common room. ¡°I must meet with the other staff members to discuss how we should approach this topic, and I will not have you delay me any further than necessary. You may speak while I escort you back, and this time, I expect you to stay there.¡±


    ¡°The monster is a snake,¡± Flynn said quickly, following alongside Snape.


    The professor froze midstep, but shook it off quickly, continuing to walk down the hall.


    ¡°What evidence do you have to support this?¡± Snape asked.


    ¡°I-¡± Flynn bit his tongue, stunned by the sudden request for evidence, but he couldn¡¯t stop there. ¡°The victims. One of them was Hermione, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Snape glanced sideways at him, but didn¡¯t pause in his stride.


    ¡°I hardly see how that could possibly be relevant,¡± he said. ¡°But yes. Ms. Granger is currently paralyzed in the Hospital Wing.¡±


    ¡°I was with her,¡± Flynn said. ¡°Right before she got attacked. She was researching snakes.¡±


    Snape¡¯s turned around completely to look back at Flynn, his stride stopping completely this time to fix him with a look of utter disbelief mixed with disdain.


    ¡°You mean to tell me,¡± he said slowly, as if unsure of his own words. ¡°That you are confident of the cause of the attacks on the students. Because you believe that it somehow connects to Ms. Granger¡¯s reading material? What, pray tell, would lead you to believe that this amounts to anything close to evidence?¡±


    Flynn scowled to hide the rush of heat that rose in his face at the tone that Snape spoke down to him with, a mixture of disdain, disbelief, and disappointment. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but couldn¡¯t find an argument that he thought would convince Snape, let alone himself.


    ¡°Hogwarts can¡¯t close,¡± Flynn said instead. ¡°It can¡¯t.¡±


    A look of something close to pity flashed for a moment on Snape¡¯s face, and Flynn couldn¡¯t help but draw back his lips and snarl in response. Thankfully, the look of pity disappeared quickly, replaced almost instantly with disdainful annoyance before Snape turned around to continue walking towards the common rooms.


    ¡°There are several magical snakes that could potentially cause long term paralysis such as the Bat-winged Deathsinger, or perhaps even a severely weakened Basilisk, but even if Ms. Granger happens to know something that the faculty does not, and chose to hide this information from us, it is important not to make decisions off of half-baked assumptions,¡± Snape snapped. ¡°I expect you to not bring this to me again, unless you have more to back up your arguments besides a gut feeling. Consider yourself lucky that I will not dole out punishment for needlessly wasting my time.¡±


    Flynn almost didn¡¯t hear Snape¡¯s words, as a small horrified part of him realized that the heat in his face was stinging his eyes, making it look like he was crying tears of frustration. Wiping the water from the corners of his eyes, he glared up at Snape to make sure the professor hadn¡¯t noticed.


    ¡°Though I hadn¡¯t believed you to be a dullard before this moment, Mr. Fredericton,¡± Snape continued, still walking down the hall with his back thankfully towards him. ¡°But I suppose I must be explicit when I say that you are not exempted from the ban on any extracurricular activities, including your duties as an assistant groundskeeper. I highly suggest keeping away from Hagrid for the rest of the year, as well.¡±


    Flynn glared at Snape, wanting to challenge the Professor on the suggestion, to tell him to fuck off and not to tell him what to do, but he stayed silent, not confident enough that he would be able to say it in the way that he wanted.


    Snape seemed to take his silence as an answer, and didn¡¯t bother to say anything else for the short walk back to the Slytherin common room, and not when he turned around and walked away either.


    When Flynn muttered the password to the door and walked in, a few eyes turned in his direction that he ignored in favour of heading towards his dorm room.


    Thankfully, the room was mostly empty aside from Blaise, who wisely turned away and closed the privacy curtains to his bed as soon as Flynn walked in. Flynn considered taking a shower for a moment, before walking to his own and sitting in it, trying not to think about whether his days with the bed, and the school, were numbered.


    Flynn didn¡¯t know how much time had passed, or whether he¡¯d fallen asleep, before he heard a knock on the dorm room door and an older Slytherin boy opened it.


    ¡°Anyone in here?¡± he said, standing at the doorway and scanning the room lazily enough that he didn¡¯t seem to notice Flynn¡¯s figure at the corner of his bed, hidden in the shadows of his still opened curtains. ¡°If you are, this is your warning that dinner¡¯s in fifteen minutes. If you¡¯re not with us when we head out to the hall, you¡¯re not getting any.¡±


    Flynn glared at the boy as his eyes lingered on Blaise¡¯s bed, with its curtains closed, but instead of coming in to make sure he¡¯d been heard past the privacy charms, the older boy simply shrugged and left, closing the door behind him.


    Silence fell over the second year boys¡¯ dorm room once more, and though Flynn knew from experience that he didn¡¯t necessarily need the meal, he wasn¡¯t going to turn it down just because he was feeling like a mopey little bitch. Not that he was.


    Pushing himself out of bed, he walked to the bathroom and quickly washed his face before grabbing Blaise¡¯s curtain. He frowned when he realised he couldn¡¯t open it, and wondered it he should just rip open the thin fabric to warn Blaise that he might miss out, but thought better of it.


    Pulling out his quill and inkpot, he grabbed one of the old assignments he had hidden underneath his bedsheets and scrawled a quick note on it, leaving it on the floor in front of Blaise¡¯s bed.


    When ten minutes passed without any movement from the bed, Flynn got up and joined the mass of Slytherins gathering in the common room.


    Snape arrived a few minutes later, and with a small perimeter of Prefects and older students surrounding them, the Slytherins all marched down to the Great Hall in a semi-organised crowd.


    Though Flynn only had the Welcoming and End of School Feasts to compare it to, and the odd meal he had in the Hall when it was less busy, an air of silence hung over the school populace in the room that was much too big to justify it, unnatural and tense to the point that not even Flynn found himself able to enjoy it.


    The atmosphere felt too much like what Flynn imagined prison might feel like, and with how the seemingly inevitable threat of going there had hung over him for most of his life like a spectre, the idea that his school would be turned into one drew his lips down into an angry scowl.


    While Flynn had to admit that he was an angry person most of the time anyways, it was usually reasonable as there was a lot to be angry at. While that was still true, especially at this current moment, Flynn wasn¡¯t used to his anger being so directionless.


    Flynn liked to think that he was different from the screaming druggies and the gangsters whose shouting matches devolved into knifefights on the streets of Fredericton, in that he tried to aim his anger towards a goal. He didn¡¯t have any delusions that his anger was a good thing, but it was a part of him, and he would use it in whatever way he could. It wasn¡¯t a matter of noble intent, but a matter of converting every single part of himself into fuel towards survival, simply not having the luxury to waste his energy on an emotion that would otherwise be useless.


    But as it bubbled under his skin, still simmering uncomfortably at the memory of how powerless Snape made him realise he was, he couldn¡¯t help but clench his fist, barely conscious of the fact that he was gripping his wand in his pocket.


    The memory of the Professor¡¯s disappointment ached like a hard kick to the stomach, and suddenly, with a clear target for ire appearing in the previously aimless fog of his anger, he turned his eyes towards the staff table at the end of the Hall.


    The atmosphere at the staff table was no different than that of the rest of the hall, with eyes turned downwards and frown lines etched even deeper into their aged skin. Forks clinked against ceramic, but no appetites seemed to be sated, as the plates in front of them remained full, and more floated awkwardly around them, looking as if they were hesitant to offer their contents.


    Of all the teachers sitting there, the teachers that seemed most unaffected by the attacks was Snape, but even as his eyes peered out over the Hall with the usual scowl on his face, he didn¡¯t notice Flynn staring up at him, his eyes unfocused as a myriad of thoughts no doubt swirled behind them.


    Fury rose within him at the sight of the Professor. How the hell could Snape call him useless when he was being such a morose bitch himself? The fucking hypocrite.


    Flynn had to wonder if he¡¯d voiced his thoughts out loud, when Snape¡¯s wandering eyes turned to him and snapped into focus out of recognition. Flynn looked away quickly, not wanting to see what the older man¡¯s expression might turn into at the sight of him.


    Bastard. Fucking bastard.


    Beside him, Theodore glanced at him for a moment, but looked quickly back to his plate, choosing to focus on his food instead. Flynn realised, with a bit of a start, that he was sitting down at the Slytherin table, with a plate full of chicken and eggs in front of him. Scowling at the food, he considered shoving some of it in his mouth, before grabbing it and putting it in his pockets instead, not feeling like eating despite not having had any food since breakfast, for some reason.


    Across from him, a familiar voice made a disgusted gagging sound, and Flynn looked up to glare at Draco.


    The small boy flinched at the glare, but gave Flynn a shaky grin regardless.


    ¡°Careful there, Lord Slytherin,¡± Draco said, quietly enough that his voice wouldn¡¯t travel in the empty Hall. ¡°Acting so barbaric might have your monster mistaking you for a mudblood. We wouldn¡¯t want you to get swept up while it cleans the castle.¡±


    Flynn couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it would be worth it to simply get himself expelled if the school was going to shut down anyways, but a flash of anger ran through him at the thought that he would so easily give up his school life like that. In a way, he couldn¡¯t help but be a little jealous of Draco¡¯s idiocy, as the boy didn¡¯t even seem to realise that the school was in danger of shutting down in the first place, but Flynn didn¡¯t have the luxury of wallowing in ignorance.


    Flynn stood up from his seat.


    Draco¡¯s eyes widened, as he leaned as far back as he possibly could without falling off of his seat, and Flynn saw from the corner of his eye that Snape was leaning forward, his tensed shoulders promising a quick intervention if Flynn tried to start anything, but Flynn paid neither of them any mind.


    He couldn¡¯t give less of a shit about them. He had more important things to worry about.


    Turning around, he stomped towards the Gryffindor table and stood across from the table from an annoying duo, sitting with their eyes turned down as their forks clinked quietly against their plates.


    They didn¡¯t seem to notice his presence, but thankfully, one of their classmates did.


    ¡°Umm, Harry, Ron,¡± a pudgy Gryffindor boy said nervously. ¡°I think someone wants to talk to you.¡±


    The two raised their heads quickly, and for a brief second, Flynn saw a spark of hope in their eyes, as if he expected him to be someone else, but Ron¡¯s face quickly fell into a scowl.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± he hissed. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be celebrating with the rest of your snakes?¡±


    ¡°Tell me what you know about the monster,¡± Flynn said.


    Immediately, the Hall somehow fell into an even deeper silence, as even whispered conversations and the clink of forks quickly faded at the sound of Flynn¡¯s question. He hadn¡¯t spoken loudly, but he hadn¡¯t bothered to quiet his voice either, but he ignored the stares pointed in his direction, especially from the staff table.


    ¡°You know something,¡± Flynn continued quickly, not willing to give himself the opportunity to hesitate. ¡°You know something about the monster, something that not even the teachers do, and for some fucking reason, you¡¯re hiding it.¡±


    It was a shot in the dark, in Snape¡¯s words, a half-baked assumption with no amount of evidence attached to it, other than a gut feeling, but Flynn¡¯s eyes narrowed and an unwitting snarl escaped his lips at the reaction the two boys gave him.


    Surprise. Not confusion, but surprise.


    ¡°You know something,¡± Flynn repeated, his growl echoing loudly around the halls. ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but you fuckers know something.¡±


    ¡°N-no we don¡¯t,¡± Ron said, his stutter seeming like more a result from surprise at being caught, than from fear of Flynn.


    ¡°You heard him,¡± Harry said, more resolutely than Ron had, but still just as unconvincingly. ¡°Now why don¡¯t you leave us alone?¡±


    ¡°Are you stupid?¡± Flynn couldn¡¯t help asking, and a few nervous giggles erupted from the surrounding students, though it quickly faded under the pressure of the surrounding silence.


    ¡°Gentlemen.¡± The gentle voice erupted through the hall, loud enough that Flynn was confident that it must have been enhanced by magic. ¡°I understand that tensions are high, but I would ask that you calm yourselves and sit down.¡±


    Flynn¡¯s head turned towards the source of the voice, slowly, as if unsure if he¡¯d heard the old man correctly. Flynn could make the logical connection that the wizened old man sitting at the center of the staff table was the same Headmaster of Hogwarts that had the power to expel him on a whim if he wanted to, but something inside of him snapped at the sight of the kind, relaxed smile that he wore.


    ¡°Are you fucking senile?¡±


    The quiet in the room threatened to become suffocating as every single person in the room fell completely silent, like they were afraid to even breathe. Even Flynn¡¯s own stomach dropped, as he slowly  realised that he¡¯d insulted the most influential man in the school, but he scowled, not wanting to let it show on his face.


    ¡°Do you not realise that your fucking school¡¯s in danger, old man?¡± Flynn asked, his words echoing dangerously in the Great Hall, already having built too much momentum to stop himself. ¡°Or do you just not care?¡±


    ¡°I suggest you watch your words carefully, Mr. Fredericton,¡± Snape shouted, standing up from his seat with enough force that his chair clattered backwards. ¡°I will not see such callous disrespect from one of my students.¡±


    Flynn glared up at Snape, watching the way that the Professor¡¯s shoulders rose and fall, and the way that his left arm twitched, mostly hidden in the shadows of his cloak. Flynn gripped his own wand in his pockets, but Dumbledore raised his hand towards the both of them.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite alright, Severus,¡± Dumbledore said, shaking his head slowly. ¡°I would not dare to punish a student for showing concern for his fellow students, nor for having the passion to display it so boldly.¡±


    Snape¡¯s lips pursed together, and for a moment he looked like he would shout his own profanities in protest, but after a tense few seconds, he waved his hand and righted the chair he had pushed over before sitting back down.


    Dumbledore nodded at Snape, and then turned back to Flynn.


    ¡°I know it may seem like I do not care,¡± Dumbledore said. ¡°But I assure you that I do care greatly for every single one of my students, both young and old.¡±


    Flynn didn¡¯t know why the old man¡¯s smile seemed so sad, but he didn¡¯t comment on it.


    ¡°Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley,¡± Dumbledore said. ¡°Mr. Fredericton speaks the truth. I would ask that the three of you stay behind once dinner is over, and we may discuss this further in my office. Does that appease you, Mr. Fredericton?¡±


    It did not. The casual, almost patronising smile made it clear that Dumbledore still wasn¡¯t taking him seriously, but the promised opportunity to try and convince him later would be enough for now.


    Turning around, Flynn marched back to the Slytherins¡¯ table and sat back in his still empty seat.


    Draco stared at him, wide-eyed and frozen.


    Flynn ignored him and stabbed a piece of chicken violently with his fork, the screech of metal against ceramic echoing throughout the Hall.

 2.9 End of the Monster and the Year

    Flynn didn¡¯t know if anyone ate after that, but dinner ended not long after, with the teachers calling for every student from their house to be escorted back to their common rooms. Flynn stayed seated as the rest of the Slytherins around him stood up and left, keeping his eyes fixed on Dumbledore even as Snape glared a silent threat at him, and a blob of blonde hair almost escaped from the Hufflepuff group before she was ushered back in by Sprout.


    Dumbledore met his glare with a gentle smile, and beckoned him over along with Harry and Ron.


    ¡°Let us be off, unless you have any other business to attend to,¡± Dumbledore said, smiling as if he had just told a joke.


    None of three showed any reaction other than to scowl, or simply keep their faces neutral, but Dumbledore didn¡¯t seem to mind as he walked towards a small side door to the Hall, rather than the main entrance, trusting the three to follow.


    Once Dumbledore led them into his office, Flynn glanced around the admittedly impressive room, and noticed that Harry and Ron did the same, with the latter more visibly awestruck than the former. Flynn tried not to be distracted by the various knicknacks in the room, but before he could refocus his glare onto Dumbledore, he couldn¡¯t help but notice the small chicken in the center of the room, sitting on a bed of hot coals and looking completely unbothered by the fact.


    It let out a quiet trill as it blinked at him, and Flynn gave it one final glare before turning to Dumbledore.


    ¡°The monster¡¯s a snake,¡± he said.


    Infuriatingly, Dumbledore simply smiled with the same patronising expression that he¡¯d had in the Great Hall.


    ¡°Oh?¡± he said, in a way that Flynn might have been tempted to call grandfatherly, if he had one to compare him to. ¡°Is it now?¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± Flynn growled, gritting his teeth as he tried not to fall into the same baseless argument that he¡¯d given to Snape. ¡°These idiots probably know more about it,¡± he said, instead.


    But when he turned back to Harry and Ron, his stomach dropped when he saw the look of confusion on their faces.


    ¡°What?¡± Ron asked. ¡°Why would we know anything about that?¡±


    ¡°Because your idiot friend got herself petrified because she got too close to the answer,¡± Flynn said, keeping his voice flat in an attempt to keep any hints of desperation from creeping in.


    Flynn blinked in surprise when Ron glared at him and stomped forward with a fist raised threateningly, before he was raised gently into the air by an invisible force.


    ¡°You take that back!¡± he roared, seemingly uncaring that he was being held aloft, and swinging his fist uselessly towards Flynn¡¯s head.


    ¡°Mr. Weasley,¡± Dumbledore said placatingly, as he kept a finger trained on the boy. ¡°I would ask that you refrain from violence in my office. Fawkes in his juvenile stages once again, and I¡¯d rather him not learn any violent habits during this stage of development. I¡¯m afraid that is usually quite impressionable at this part of his life, regardless of how many times he has gone through it.¡±


    The chicken let out a squawk, as if in protest.


    ¡°And as for you, Mr. Fredericton,¡± Dumbledore said, with a sad smile. ¡°I understand that it was likely not your intention, but please refrain from aggravating your peers. We are here for a constructive and friendly discussion today, are we not?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t need your help,¡± Flynn growled, glaring up at Ron. ¡°I had it covered.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you did, Mr. Fredericton,¡± Dumbledore said. ¡°But not in a way that I would find acceptable in my school.¡±


    ¡°Why should I care what you find acceptable, when you don¡¯t care enough about the school to save it?¡± Flynn asked.


    Dumbledore sighed, and lowered his finger, letting Ron gently back onto the ground. Flynn glared at Ron, daring him to try again, but the smaller boy simply glared back at him, his face a colour and shade similar to his hair.


    ¡°Hermione¡¯s not an idiot,¡± he growled.


    ¡°She is in fact, one of the most brilliant talents this school has ever seen,¡± Dumbledore agreed. ¡°And one of the most curious as well. I¡¯m glad to see that she has enough love for this school to dedicate her free time to figuring out the mystery behind the castle¡¯s attacks.¡±


    ¡°She knew something,¡± Flynn said, sensing a familiar argument approaching. ¡°She was desperate. She barely had time to talk to Pince before she started running through the library.¡±


    ¡°You were there?!¡± Ron shouted angrily. ¡°You-¡±


    ¡°Were being watched the entire time, by Madam Pince, weren''t you, Mr.Fredericton?¡± Dumbledore finished, on his behalf.


    It took Flynn a surprisingly long time to realise why, but before he could tell Ron exactly what he felt about the interrupted accusation, Dumbledore raised both of his hands, calling silently for quiet.


    ¡°Mr. Fredericton,¡± he said. ¡°If you would allow me to speak. I know that you do not trust me - on that you¡¯ve made your opinion quite clear to the entire student body - but I would hope that you would allow me the opportunity to explain myself.¡±


    Flynn didn¡¯t want to, but he knew that they would get nowhere if he didn¡¯t allow Dumbledore the chance.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he spat out. ¡°You¡¯ve got ten seconds,¡± he added, out of nothing but spite.


    Dumbledore chuckled. ¡°Well, it is a rather long story, but I suppose I could summarise it,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°You see, Mr. Fredericton. This is not the first time that a series of students have been paralysed in this castle. A similar string of events occurred many years ago.¡±


    Flynn¡¯s eyes narrowed at Dumbledore¡¯s words, but what drew his attention even more than the claim itself was the lack of reaction from the idiots standing a few feet away from him.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Flynn said. ¡°The school¡¯s still open, so you solved it back then, is that what you¡¯re saying?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Dumbledore said, sadly for some reason. ¡°Hogwarts was in danger of shutting down completely, but a culprit was found. Once he was expelled from the school, no such attacks occurred ever again. Until now.¡±


    Flynn narrowed his eyes. ¡°So you know the fucker that was doing it?!¡± he hissed, glaring at Dumbledore for a moment, before he realised the specific wording that Dumbledore had used. ¡°He was just expelled? Not even arrested?¡±


    Dumbledore¡¯s silence was deafening, as well as the wide-eyed nervous stares from Ron and Harry.


    ¡°You stupid motherfuckers!¡± Flynn roared, unable to hold himself back.


    ¡°I had believed him to be innocent,¡± Dumbledore said sadly. ¡°And to be quite frank, I still do.¡±


    Still do? ¡°Is that son of a bitch here?!¡± Flynn shouted, unable to believe the conclusion he¡¯d come to. ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?!¡±


    Dumbledore gave him another sad smile and opened his mouth to say something.


    ¡°Hagrid didn¡¯t do it,¡± Harry said, before Dumbledore could.


    Flynn froze, staring wide-eyed at Harry for what he was suggesting.


    ¡°Ah, he told you, then?¡± Dumbledore asked.


    ¡°Hagrid would never hurt anyone, sir,¡± Harry repeated. ¡°He¡¯s one of the kindest people I know.¡±


    ¡°I am well aware, Harry,¡± Dumbledore said, though the frown on his lips and the shake of his head seemed to disagree. ¡°I do not think that Hagrid would ever wish harm upon another.¡±


    ¡°That and he can¡¯t talk to snakes,¡± Harry said.


    Dumbledore paused, staring blankly at Harry, though the boy didn¡¯t seem to notice.


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± the old man asked.


    ¡°I can talk to snakes,¡± Harry repeated, as if he didn¡¯t realise how insane that made him sound. And with that apparently not being good enough, his eyes widened as he repeated it a third time. ¡°I can talk to snakes! Ron, do you think?¡±


    Flynn was tempted to answer on the other boy¡¯s behalf, but Ron¡¯s eyes widened as they darted wildly between Flynn and Harry.


    ¡°The voices!¡± Ron said. ¡°You can talk to snakes! You can understand them too!¡±


    ¡°The voice in the wall!¡± Harry shouted. ¡°Hermione must have realised!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why she was reading! About snakes!¡± Ron replied.


    Thankfully, before Flynn was driven to grab the idiots and smash their heads together both to stop the insane exchange and simply because he really wanted to, Dumbledore coughed into his hand, drawing attention from the two boys immediately.


    ¡°Professor!¡± Harry shouted, as if just remembering that he was in the room. ¡°The monster! It¡¯s a snake!¡±


    ¡°Harry, please,¡± Dumbledore said, raising a hand in a silent request for calm. ¡°Would you be so kind as to guide me through your thoughts? I¡¯m afraid that your exchange with young Mr. Weasley, while delightfully energetic, was rather difficult to follow for an old man such as myself.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Sorry, Professor,¡± Harry said, a heavy blush appearing on his face. ¡°Well, you see¡­¡±


    Harry Potter was not a good storyteller. He tended to assume that his audience knew more than he¡¯d told them, which led to Dumbledore interrupting him multiple times or Ron chiming in to add in some missed details, but eventually Harry was able to properly explain how he¡¯d figured out that he was a parselmouth during the first and only meeting of Hogwarts¡¯ duelling club, when he was able to speak to Malfoy¡¯s conjured snake. While it had gone unnoticed after the chaos that Flynn had caused, he had brought it up in passing with his friends who let him know how unusual the ability was.


    While that in itself was enough to draw a dull headache out in Flynn, every single comment that followed threatened to crack his teeth, with how hard he was clenching his jaw. Having the ability to talk to snakes was one thing, and if Flynn was being forgiving, he might¡¯ve understood why Harry wanted to hide the fact that he was hearing disembodied homicidal voices in fear of seeming crazy, but even if he wasn¡¯t already feeling particularly sympathetic towards the boy, the story of the fucking diary would¡¯ve eliminated any sympathy completely.


    ¡°Are you fucking stupid?¡± Flynn asked. ¡°A fucking diary injected its fucking thoughts into your brain and you didn¡¯t think it was anything shady?¡±


    ¡°It was showing me a memory!¡± Harry said indignantly. ¡°I thought maybe diaries act like that here.¡±


    ¡°Why the fuck would a fucking book invade your fucking mind?¡± Flynn asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know! I don¡¯t know a lot of things. You¡¯ve lived with Muggles too, didn¡¯t you? I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve come across some stuff that you thought was weird about the Wizarding world.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d expect it to fucking show me a movie, not put me in a coma so it could give me a fucking dream.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t in a coma,¡± Harry responded, though he frowned right afterwards. ¡°I don¡¯t think.¡±


    ¡°Clearly,¡± Flynn responded.


    It took Harry a surprisingly short time to figure out what Flynn meant by that, but before he could shout back a response, Dumbledore raised his hand again.


    ¡°Harry,¡± he said. ¡°Does this diary still remain in your possession?¡±


    Immediately, Harry¡¯s face blanched, and Flynn felt the urge to yell at him again.


    ¡°Actually, sir,¡± Harry said. ¡°I don¡¯t. Someone stole it.¡±


    ¡°From our dorm room,¡± Ron added quickly. ¡°The whole place was practically torn up. Whoever stole it must¡¯ve been some kind of nutter.¡±


    ¡°That is certainly worrying,¡± Dumbledore said, frowning deeply. His gaze, though pointed forward, seemed to focus on nothing, as a whirlwind of thoughts seemed to swirl behind his eyes before they hardened suddenly. ¡°But ultimately secondary to the threat that befalls the school as a whole. Boys, I will ask that you return to your dorm rooms. I will call your Heads of Houses to escort you back as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°But Professor!¡± Harry shouted. ¡°We want to help!¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Ron said, with less enthusiasm at first, though his eyes hardened a second later and he slammed his fist into his palm with a meaty sounding slap. ¡°We need to get back at that monster for hurting Hermione.¡±


    Dumbledore shook his head.


    ¡°While your courage is appreciated, as well as your loyalty, I¡¯m afraid that this matter is quite a delicate one.¡±


    ¡°But Professor-¡±


    ¡°Fear not, Harry,¡± Dumbledore said, raising a hand while smiling gently down at the boy. ¡°While I am many things, I am not a parseltongue. I may end up requiring your assistance in the future, but I ask that you simply hold a little faith in me until the time comes that I may call upon you.¡±


    Harry¡¯s face twisted up in a grimace, but eventually he nodded.


    Dumbledore smiled a gentle smile, his hardened eyes softening as he looked down at the boy.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Very well, then,¡± he said. ¡°Now I believe that your Heads of Houses are waiting outside of my office and I¡¯m sure you boys have had enough excitement for the day. I¡¯ll ask the kitchens to make sure a nice cup of hot cocoa is waiting for each of you on your return to your rooms.¡±


    Ron¡¯s eyes lit up at the promise, and though Harry didn¡¯t seem to be too enthused at having his offer to help be shot down so kindly, he seemed to take the dismissal for what it was, nodding and walking towards the exit to the office.


    Waiting outside for them, as promised, were a pair of Professors who met them with a stern stare and a grimace, but with those being the default expressions of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Head of Houses respectively, it was difficult to tell how they were truly feeling.


    As soon as he saw him, Snape turned around and stalked off without a word, expecting Flynn to follow, and so he did.


    Neither of them spoke, until they were almost at the door to the Slytherin dorms.


    ¡°Dumbledore is a powerful man,¡± Snape said. ¡°I suggest you don¡¯t make a habit of showing him such blatant disrespect.¡±


    Flynn shrugged.


    ¡°It fucking worked, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    Snape didn¡¯t respond.


    When Flynn walked through the Slytherin common room, the whole house seemed to fall into murmured whispers at the sight of him, some of them giggling, while most seemed curious. Flynn ignored all of them as he made his way to his dorm room, causing Malfoy and his goons to scurry out immediately at the sight of him.


    ¡°I heard you made quite a stir during dinner,¡± Blaise said at the sight of him, nursing a cup of hot cocoa in his hands. ¡°Which you didn¡¯t wake me for.¡±


    ¡°I tried,¡± Flynn said.


    ¡°I know,¡± Blaise said, waving the note that Flynn had left for him by his bedside. ¡°Not very hard, mind you. I¡¯m a rather light sleeper.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to open your curtains,¡± Flynn said, with a scowl.


    ¡°And I appreciate that,¡± Blaise said. ¡°You¡¯re entirely the wrong gender to be sneaking into my sheets. I was just stating facts, I wasn¡¯t complaining.¡±


    ¡°Well, it sounded like you were,¡± Flynn said. ¡°Try not to bitch so much.¡±


    Blaise shrugged in response, clearly deciding it wasn¡¯t worth much more of a response than that.


    ¡°Where¡¯s my dinner then?¡± he asked, waving the note again. ¡°You mentioned here that you would be bringing me some.¡±


    Flynn dug into his pockets and held out a whole chicken leg to Blaise.


    ¡°Charming,¡± Blaise said, with a grimace. ¡°Well, I hate to turn down your kindness, but I¡¯m afraid that I¡¯m not feeling all that hungry anymore.¡±


    Flynn grunted and shoved the chicken leg back in his pocket.


    The next day, the Slytherin house woke up to the announcement that classes were cancelled for the day, and that under no circumstances were students to leave their dorm rooms under risk of expulsion.


    While Flynn had been prepared to spend the entire day in his bed, a snide comment from Blaise comparing him to a child hiding under the covers was enough to get him to leave, if only to prove him wrong. It only took him a few minutes for him to regret it, but a smug look from Blaise, shot across the room, led to Flynn sitting down with a stark determination not to get up for any reason.


    Though the announcement that classes were cancelled had come with a reminder that final exams were upcoming so students were reminded to use the period for self-study and NOT for idle loafing, aside from the fifth and seventh years, who were stressing about their OWLs and NEWTs respectively, a majority of the common room was filled with idle chatter and the quiet clacks of chess pieces, gobstones, and various other game pieces.


    Thankfully, before one of the seventh years snapped and decided that it would be worth the risk to be charged for murder in exchange for some peace and quiet, the Head Girl cordoned off a section of the room and placed a silencing charm over the border, preventing an all out war between the exam takers and the rest of the student body before it happened.


    Thankfully, though he got a few curious gazes from the other students, no doubt wondering how he had managed to accrue fifty points for Slytherin for ¡°a wonderful display of questioning authority¡± granted to him by Dumbledore, after the first thirty minutes of study in the silenced section of the room, with nobody being brave enough to break the silence of the dedicated study section, he went mostly forgotten as the students collectively decided that their own futures were probably more important than the latest gossip.


    It was only when a small horde of picnic tables floated into the room, carrying a late breakfast with it, that the silencing charm was broken temporarily, and chatter filled the entire common room.


    The day went by without much drama, aside from a few snickers from the older Slytherins who hadn¡¯t had enough of an opportunity to witness Flynn¡¯s food habits, but nobody attempted to speak to him, which was how he rather liked it.


    After breakfast passed, the room returned to the divided sections of quiet study and idle chatter, interrupted twice more by lunch and dinner, until people started to slowly migrate back to their dorm rooms as the night became later.


    Once Blaise stood up from his table, abandoning the group of second-year girls he had been sitting with the entire day, Flynn stood up a few minutes later, content that Blaise wouldn¡¯t be able to call him a coward if he returned to their dorm room first.


    A few minutes later, Draco and his goons followed them in. Draco seemed upset, and in his typical fashion, complained loudly about it. Apparently his father had come by the school to do something, but failed on account of that old decrepit headmaster who really ought to have retired years ago.


    Flynn didn¡¯t give a shit either way, but with how Draco was upset enough that he didn¡¯t even notice Flynn glaring at him, Flynn simply had to wait until the boy tired himself out with his whining.


    One day of cancelled classes turned into three, before a small note was posted on the announcement board in the center of the Slytherin common room. It had been posted overnight, and was innocuous enough that some of the students almost missed it, but what it read was important enough that news spread by mouth regardless.


    The ¡°problem¡± plaguing the castle had been dealt with. Classes were back on and the curfew was lifted.


    The initial reaction from the students was disbelief, simply at the lack of fanfare that such an announcement should have held. There was no announcement from Snape, no invitation to the Great Hall to celebrate the school remaining open, nothing. Some of the students even wondered if it was some sort of prank, meant to lure students into the halls where they weren¡¯t allowed, where they would risk expulsion.


    But eventually, someone broke the supposedly invalid curfew, and when they came back in to announce that they hadn¡¯t been petrified, nor had Snape swooped down from the shadows to slap them with a permanent detention, more and more students milled out of the common room, finding confidence in numbers.


    Even with the sight of students from the other houses, wandering the halls, looking similarly confused, nobody really knew how to react. The first reaction was to go to the Great Hall for breakfast, now that it wasn¡¯t being delivered to the common rooms, and though a few of the teachers looked delighted by the sight of students being allowed to roam free, a handful of them, namely Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall, had heavy bags under their eyes and the creases in their skin ran deeper than usual, as if they¡¯d skipped out on sleep for the past three days.


    Dumbledore still managed to look delighted despite this fact, and McGonagall looked calmer than she usually did, perhaps not having the energy to keep up a stern face, but the death promised in Snape¡¯s eyes made everyone that had a class with him later that day cringe back in preemptive fear.


    Flynn didn¡¯t spend too much time in the Great Hall afterwards, taking as much food as he could and heading out to the Hogwarts grounds until he reached the familiar hut at the edge of the forest and knocked on the door.


    Flynn didn¡¯t expect to be bowled over and the wind knocked out of him when the giant resident rushed out and scooped him up in a happy bear hug, somehow not hearing the impressive string of profanities hurled into his ear.


    Two sets of bruised knuckles and an aching jaw later, Hagrid finally calmed down from his joy enough to let Flynn down, Hagrid explained that the last few days had probably been the best of his life. Though the Minister of Magic had come for him to send him to Azkaban for a few days, Dumbledore, great man tha¡¯ he was, swooped in to save the day, telling the Minister that he¡¯d be dead before an innocent student of his was carted off to the horrible place.


    Even better yet, when Lucius Malfoy had entered the scene, demanding that Dumbledore step down from his position, Dumbledore had ¡°politely¡± declined the Order of Suspension though Hagrid seemed to shiver as he recalled Dumbledore¡¯s exact reaction.


    Not to be deterred from his happiness, Hagrid quickly shook off the last of his shivers and recalled the last piece of good news that Dumbledore had given him, just that morning. Starting from next year, Hagrid had been given his dream job as the Hogwarts Professor for Care of Magical Creatures. It was a bit of a surprise, with Professor Kettleburn¡¯s spry energy not befitting of his age, especially with how invigorated he¡¯d been since helping Hagrid take care of Norberta, but it seemed that he¡¯d finally been convinced to enjoy the last of his remaining limbs in retirement.


    - - - - -


    There weren¡¯t that many days left in the school year, and though the school was a lot more hectic, it wasn¡¯t related to any remaining panic from the monster attacks. Rather, the whole ¡°fiasco¡± with the petrified students quickly became forgotten in the face of the next looming threat. Exams.


    The school quickly fell into a familiar rhythm, with the only thing that changed was Snape¡¯s increasing annoyance at everything in the world as he continued to lose sleep over the final steps of his paralysis cure.


    All in all, Flynn ended the school year with a single Acceptable in Transfiguration and a mixture of Exceeds Expectations and Outstandings for the rest of his classes. Well, he did get a grading of V in his Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was an archaic grading of Void that every single student in the school got after Lockhart¡¯s exams were assessed and determined to not meet the curriculum requirements set by the school board.


    Lockhart excused himself from the silly little mistake by stating that he¡¯d been too busy clearing out the Paralytic Spanish Roach population that had been running amok in Hogwarts for the greater part of the year, all which could be read in his latest book, Swinging with the Spaniards. No, he hadn¡¯t consulted his editor about the title for that one yet. It had been a suggestion by two of his favourite students, Fregery and Gredrick Measles, why do you ask?


    Maybe it was Lockhart loudly announcing his ¡°retirement¡± at the Final Feast, tearfully telling the student body that they shouldn¡¯t miss him too much and that he would always remain as their favourite Professor in their hearts, that had Flynn so annoyed, but the fact of the matter had been that for the past few days, he¡¯d been feeling more annoyed than ever before.


    It wasn¡¯t just Lockhart, but everything had him feeling especially irritable for the past few days, and he had no idea why.


    It was only when he boarded the Hogwarts Express, and a familiar blob of blonde hair opened the door to his otherwise empty compartment that he realised why.


    ¡°Where have you been the past few days?¡± Flynn asked.


    ¡°Did you miss me?¡± Lily asked, with a smile on her face.


    Flynn scowled at her.


    Lily smiled softly at him and walked into the compartment, uninvited, closing the door behind her before sitting down with her hands in her lap, much more formally than he was used to seeing from her.


    ¡°I missed you,¡± Lily said, unembarrassed by the admission as she continued to smile at Flynn. ¡°Sorry I¡¯ve been avoiding you.¡±


    Flynn didn¡¯t know how to feel about the admission, especially since he hadn¡¯t even realised that something was missing from his life until just now. He decided to simply scowl at her before looking away.


    ¡°Sally misses you too,¡± Lily continued. ¡°And Luna. I think. I¡¯m never actually sure. I know they¡¯ve been avoiding you too, but that¡¯s my fault. I just felt a little weird about seeing you.¡±


    Flynn continued to scowl out of the window, not knowing how to react.


    ¡°I like you Flynn. I¡¯ve liked you for a while. I think you¡¯re smart enough to have guessed that already, and I know you won¡¯t do anything but grunt and scowl at me for saying it out loud,¡± Lily said quickly. ¡°But when I saw you shouting at Dumbledore that day, I realised I don¡¯t actually know that much about you.¡±


    ¡°What, you didn¡¯t think I would call out an old bastard for being incompetent?¡± Flynn scoffed, choosing to ignore the first half of what she said, possibly forever.


    ¡°No, that wasn¡¯t surprising to me,¡± Lily said, with a nervous giggle, though it petered out quickly. ¡°I was thinking more about how scared you sounded.¡±


    Immediately, Flynn¡¯s head whipped back towards her with a snarl on his face. Lily didn¡¯t flinch, and despite the hint of red that dusted her cheeks, she met his eyes with a surprising amount of resoluteness.


    ¡°You think I was fucking scared?¡± Flynn growled.


    ¡°You sounded like it,¡± Lily said, with a nervous smile, more afraid for him than she was of him.


    Flynn scowled at her, and turned to face the window once more.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t scared,¡± he growled.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Lily said. ¡°But in that moment, I thought you were, and I couldn¡¯t even guess why. I know you love studying, and I know you love magic, but I didn¡¯t think you would be so scared of losing the school so much that you would draw that much attention to yourself. Even if I know you weren¡¯t actually scared.¡±


    Flynn grunted, displeased by the obvious lie, but not wanting to call her out on it.


    ¡°I like you Flynn,¡± Lily said again. ¡°I like like you, just in case you want to try and pretend like you don¡¯t know what I mean.¡±


    The Hogwarts Express just passed by a very interesting mountain, shaped like a jagged triangle, that suddenly caught Flynn¡¯s attention. He twisted his head further back to stare at it. Yup. That was a mountain, all right.


    ¡°You¡¯re a very cute boy, Flintstone Fredericton,¡± Lily said, sounding unbothered by the fact that Flynn had spontaneously gone deaf. ¡°But like I said, I don¡¯t know much about you other than what I see at school. I thought that was enough, and it probably is, but I want to know more about you and I know you won¡¯t just tell me. Consider that a warning.¡±


    Though he definitely hadn¡¯t been listening to her, Flynn wanted to turn his head to ask what the hell Lily meant by that. Before he could, however, he caught a glimpse of the red-faced boy staring at him through the glass of the Hogwarts Express window. Flynn scowled at the boy, quickly deciding that he needed to think of a way to eliminate the translucent boy from existence before he could spare any of his thoughts towards figuring out whatever the hell Lily was talking about.


    When he heard the sound of Lily¡¯s weight shifting off of her seat, Flynn couldn¡¯t help but flinch for some reason, and when he heard the sound of the door opening, he wanted to turn around and stop her from leaving for some reason, but Lily¡¯s reflection in the glass window stopped at the door, with only her head peeking out into the halls.


    ¡°You know you could¡¯ve come in,¡± Lily said. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to wait out here.¡±


    ¡°I think we did,¡± Sally replied faintly, from somewhere in the hall.


    ¡°Well, anyway. We¡¯re done. Come on in,¡± Lily said, beckoning with her hand.


    It took several seconds for Sally and Luna to step into view, with Sally placing her hands over the younger girl¡¯s ears, and Luna pinching her own nose closed, rather than blocking her eyes like he might¡¯ve expected.


    ¡°Why are you plugging her ears?¡± Lily asked.


    ¡°To be safe,¡± Sally said, her eyes darting between Lily and Flynn. ¡°Are you two¡­¡±


    ¡°Boyfriend and girlfriend?¡± Lily asked. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    ¡°Not yet?¡± Sally repeated, asking the same question that Flynn might have wanted to ask if he weren¡¯t so focused on figuring out how he could destroy the red-faced boy reflected in the glass.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Lily replied, as if that answered anything. ¡°I¡¯ll work on it.¡±


    Though a shiver ran down Flynn¡¯s spine at the statement that sounded eerily like a threat, his mind froze when he felt a weight settle down on the seat beside him and a warm body pressed against his side.


    ¡°Adults are so strange,¡± Luna whispered.


    ¡°We¡¯re not adults,¡± Lily replied. ¡°I know Flynn¡¯s big, but we¡¯re barely older than you, Luna.¡±


    ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡± Luna asked, confused.


    Flynn didn¡¯t remember much of the train ride after that. He supposed that time must have passed, and chatter must have been had, but the only thing he could really remember was a distinct warmth that settled in his face and against his side for the entire train ride, and a constant pounding in his ears. When he got off the train, he must have met up with Liz at some point, and he could only assume she¡¯d asked him questions as she usually did, but it was only two days later that he managed to regain any semblance of sentience.


    It was while he was in the gym¡¯s kitchen, hiding away from the boxing class for brats that Tom was teaching in the main room, when he heard a knock coming from the back door. Though Flynn couldn¡¯t help but narrow his eyes at the sound, since the only people who came through the back door were Tom, Jones, and Liz, and even if he didn¡¯t consider the fact that Tom was teaching his class and Jones was already in the kitchen with him, Liz wasn¡¯t the type of person to knock anyways.


    Strangely enough, Jones didn¡¯t seem too surprised by the sound, though any suspicion he might¡¯ve had was compensated by the utter look of annoyance that Jones glared towards him, as if the knocking was somehow Flynn¡¯s fault.


    ¡°Get the fucking door, brat,¡± Jones said.


    The knock echoed out from the door again, and the rhythmic cadence of it sent a chill down Flynn¡¯s spine.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to,¡± he said.


    ¡°Tough,¡± Jones said. ¡°It¡¯s a customer.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± Flynn asked, even if he had a few guesses.


    ¡°Someone who wants you to be their personal coach,¡± Jones replied.


    ¡°Dudley?¡± Flynn asked.


    ¡°Who the fuck is that?¡± Jones asked.


    ¡°Some kid that Tom made me train last summer,¡± Flynn said, still with his eyes locked on the back door, unwilling to take his eyes away in case something would burst through and pounce on him.


    ¡°Stupid fucking name,¡± Jones grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s not him.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Flynn asked, even as the knocks on the door echoed again.


    ¡°Find out yourself,¡± Jones grunted. ¡°I¡¯m not fucking dealing with this shit.¡±


    Jones got up and retreated from the kitchen, through the main gym hall, leaving Flynn alone with the door and its insistent knocks.


    Eventually, he stood up, resigning himself to his fate.


    It was mid knock when he opened the door, and if he squinted his eyes enough, he could almost pretend that it was a very short and blonde Dudley standing behind it.


    ¡°Hiya Flynn,¡± blonde Dudley said. ¡°Didya miss me?¡±


    Flynn closed the door calmly.