Chapter 8: The Mirror and the Stone

Two months ago, Neville wouldn't have ever dreamed of sneaking out. Let alone doing so beneath the cover of an invisibility cloak. He wasn't sure why exactly he felt so adamant about keeping Ron in the dark. (Hermione had been easier to justify because she was in the girl's dorm.) Perhaps it was because Ron would tell Hermione who would yell at him for breaking the rules. Perhaps it was because Ron only saw the Boy-Who-Lived. There were still some suspicious kids who believed in Harry Potter, but Neville was here and Harry was off in the mountains- so naturally, Neville received all the credit.

The pressure and attention was all just getting to be a bit much. He wished he could talk to Hasan again, but if he were honest with himself, Draco terrified him, and the two were always together. No, the first night out Neville would go alone.

At first he had considered going to the kitchens and having some more pumpkin pie. Then he wanted to explore the library's restricted section and make Hermione proud, but just as he was about to enter, a door caught his eye. It was a regular door, a few twists and turns down from the library, but Neville could have sworn it wasn't there mere hours ago! How unusual! Neville's curiosity got the better of him as he pulled it open and walked inside. The interior was bare and rather dark, only about ten feet by ten feet across.

"Lumos." he whispered, and then jumped back in fright.

A large, beautiful mirror, about twenty feet high with a thick golden frame stood before him. How has he not noticed it before? At the top lay a magnificent stretch of gold carving in a peak, bordered by two towers, but what was most interesting were the words: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

It was complete nonsense, so Neville just ignored it. He was much more concerned with the fact that he was in the mirror, despite the aid of his invisibility cloak. He still wondered who gave it to him...

He whipped around, just to ascertain of his utter isolation, and then slowly dropped the cloak to the ground. It fell like water over river stones, but he didn't pay any mind, for the mirror...for the mirror was showing something truly remarkable.

"Gran? Mum? Uncle? Dad?" But there were others, "Hasan? Hermione? Ron? Dumbledore!"

He turned around again, but there was no one. The only sound came from his labored breaths and from his beating heart. Slowly, he faced the mirror again...

"Neville, we love you no matter what." Gran's crackly voice told mirror-Neville. "Even if you can't do magic very well. Or be the Boy-Who-Lived, or even if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returns. We love you unconditionally. No matter-"

Neville's hand that had been on the mirror slid away as tears rolled down his cheeks. Gran would never say that to him. She might love him, but certainly she would have expectations of him! This was a demon mirror! But...he loved it. He watched as mirror-Gran and mirror-Uncle gave him a hug before his friends took center stage. Mirror-Hermione drew close to Neville as a bang ensued from the hallway. Neville froze.

"Mrs. Norris, do you smell him?" Filch raised his voice, "I know you're in there! The library door was askew!"

Damn! How did a cat care about doors anyway? One day he was going to give Mrs. Norris a kick...

"I'll have you know that you'll be in detention for a month!-"

"Argus? What exactly is going on here?" Minerva's prim voice came through.

"There's a student out and about on a midnight ride!" Argus growled.

"On Christmas?" Minerva asked. "They're all too tired, how did you deduce a student was out?"

"Mrs. Norris found the library door ajar."

"Ah... Well, why would they stick around here? Bring your cat and we'll be off to-" her pointed look made it clear she meant the corridor.

"Right."

Soon two pairs of footsteps shuffled and strode briskly away. They were quite loud in the silence and Neville was surprised he had not heard them approach. The mirror...he felt an aching to look back, but he knew if he did, he'd be caught for sure. Steeling himself, he flung the cloak about him and scurried back to Gryffindor tower. The portrait of the Fat Lady eyed him speculatively as he shrugged out his cloak.

"Caput Draconis." Neville muttered, as the Fat Lady rolled her eyes before swinging open for him. But Neville was just thankful to be through the door:

He was going to have to thank Hasan later for those memory potions.

.oOo.

"Animagi?" Severus repeated. "And what would you want to learn about them for?"

"Professor McGonagall mentioned them, sir. She's been tutoring me at times and briefly explained when I asked about her cat form."

"Ah. I see." Damn Minerva! She should really keep some tricks to herself! Imagine, if all the school learned to be Animagus! "It is a highly difficult transformation that would take years to understand let alone practice and fulfill."

Instead of looking crestfallen, Hasan just stared up at him. "I don't mind time." Hasan said. Honestly, he felt as if he were living on borrowed time. Just like in Narnia, best to just get started right away and then repeat the process should it disappear.

"Twenty years, and you don't mind?" Snape asked lightly, but with a hidden edge.

"I think you're exaggerating to discourage me." Hasan replied equally as lightly. "I hate bragging, and I hate hypocrites, so I must be one...but I can learn rather quickly. Surely you've noticed?"

Of course Severus had noticed! The damn child managed to be in his top three, competing with (and seriously desecrating) Granger and Malfoy.

"Yes." Snape bit out. "But I highly advise against independent study. Transforming one's body is dangerous and should not be taken lightly. It might be painful at first, you may be stuck in your form due to an injury-"

"But, sir, independent implies a singular." Hasan said.

"No absolutely not!" Snape snapped. "I refuse to condone-"

"I am rather good at eluding the authorities, Professor, Altair has seen to that. Hermione and Draco and also top of our year. If you insist on withdrawing your guidance..."

Withdrawing! Snape hadn't even been aware he was involved!

"Don't you dare try and blackmail me, Mr. Castell. You will find fighting with fire will get you badly burned."

A flaming manila folder...

"Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem." Hasan said with a charming smile. "You won't tell Mr. Malfoy because you're loyal to Altair. You won't tell on me because Dumbledore would have your head on a platter for teaching a child anything useful. Or even having knowledge of it and being unable to stop it. Knowledge you will have, but just see if we won't succeed. I'd much rather have your help. You seem intelligent...I like your voice actually. So will you make it final?"

Severus sighed. This child would be the death of him.

"I agree to guide you in order to avoid unintended suicide." Snape said finally. "But tell one word of this to anybody..." His death glare was enough of a warning.

"Please don't concern yourself, Professor. Now that I have your support, you should know I only have one last thing to make the transformation complete."

Snape literally gaped at him. What the hell had just happened? This child had cornered him, blackmailed him, forced his allegiance in aid all for a process he had already completed. What the fuck?

"Explain yourself." Severus demanded, vanishing their cups and biscuits with a snap of his fingers, and leaning across the desk to breathe in the boy's infuriatingly blank face. Hasan tilted his head. "Oh, for the love of Salazar! Why did you need my support?"

Hasan's face lit up. "Because you, unlike all the other Professors...hm, maybe not Professor McGonagall, don't seem to notice much of anything. You would surely find out sooner or later, and I wish to avoid a confrontation with authorities as much as possible."

Why that little snake! He really did know how to keep under the radar! Severus was both proud and agitated all at once.

"So what you really want from me is the potion and my silence." Severus stated. Hasan nodded.

"Thank you." Hasan bowed his head before getting up, off of the chair. "...for the hot chocolate and biscuits and showing an interest in my book. Merry Christmas."

With the thick tome pressed to his chest, Hasan Castell exited the Potion Master's office all in one piece. Ron had been exaggerating- Snape was really quite amiable once you got to know him!

.oOo.

The following night brought Hermione and Neville to the Slytherin table.

"How are you, Tracey?" Hermione asked eagerly of the blonde witch. Tracey lowered her eyes demurely, looking to Theo and then to Daphne before smiling up at the mudblood.

"Hello, Hermione. I am doing well, thank you."

Meanwhile, Neville had discreetly given Hasan a note telling him to meet him before the library right after curfew. He invited Draco as well, for the Boy-Who-Lived had learned to trust the pureblood aristocrat. Draco still detested the red head, but he did get on well enough with Neville. Hermione even seemed to bother him less. A vast improvement and really a relief because pretending to like someone is so much more tiring than actually genuinely liking someone. Hasan supposed it was the Troll Incident that brought them together, and then of course, the recent events and their mystery. Either way, Hasan enjoyed this more relaxed Draco. He still sneered and drawled and smirked, but was a lot less malicious (at least towards Hasan).

"We'll go?" Draco whispered. Hasan nodded imperceptibly as the rest of the Slytherin table chatted loudly around them.

So it was, that a few hours later, Hasan and Draco had slipped out of the Slytherin dungeons and were waiting together in their pajamas, silky black and silver respectively, for Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Where in Salazar's name, is he?" Draco hissed as he wrapped his arms tightly around his front.

"Cold?" Hasan wondered.

Draco opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

"It's alright," Hasan said and cast a quick warming charm on the both of them. Malfoy blinked in surprise before smiling at his friend. For a half-blood, this wizard sure knew a lot.

"Hey," Draco started softly, "do you mind if I borrow your Lord of the Rings books sometime?"

"I don't think I'd mind." Hasan responded, "Just promise me you'll start with the Hobbit, Draco. The trilogy is built on the prelude."

"Oh, alrigh-" Draco began but then the next few words were cut off though his mouth continued to move. Hasan looked around in mild interest before suddenly, Neville's head appeared out of thin air! Draco screamed and leapt back, tugging Hasan close and holding onto his arm. So much for fearless Malfoys...

"Hey Hasan, Draco." Neville whispered with a smile, opening the front of his cloak so that they could see him. He canceled the silencing charm with a mutter and wave of his wand, and Draco looked about to tear his head off.

"What were you thinking, Longbottom?" he whispered furiously. "You could have messed up and made us mute for life!"

"Oh come, Draco. Neville's not half bad." Hasan observed. "But I am curious. Where did you get that invisibility cloak?"

Neville wet his lips and frowned. "Christmas gift. I'm not sure."

Hasan reached out to touch it, feeling the smooth magical fabric glide between his fingers like water from a trickling stream...

"You know this is an original." Hasan whispered. "The Three Brothers."

Draco gasped. "You mean-" he gaped at the cloak to Hasan's face then back. "You can't mean that that's-"

"Merlin, Hasan!" Neville exclaimed, "That's wicked!" Apparently Ron's meager vocabulary had rubbed off on him.

"Indeed." Hasan remarked, unaffected. "Where are we going? I assume you had something to show us."

"Oh, yeah. Um, follow me." Neville said, and slowly descended down the hall. "I just wanted to thank you," Neville said as they walked, "for those memory potions. They really helped."

Draco glared sharply at Hasan.

"You got him something but not me!" Draco demanded haughtily.

Hasan shrugged. He wasn't about to tell Draco that he only gave presents to people who trusted him. Not the other way around since Hasan didn't really trust anyone. But Hermione had certainly learned to rely on him, and Neville had as good as confessed the entire farce. (Though Hasan could've figured it out it was so poorly executed.)

"Draco," Hasan said evenly, "I had no idea you were going to get me a gift."

"No idea!" Draco practically screamed as Neville ushered them inside the room and cast another silencing charm around the door. "How could you not know? We are friends! Hasan, Salazar! Friends! I know you're weird but did you seriously not notice?"

"You're always with me," Hasan said slowly, "when we eat and always when we study. You save me a seat in nearly every class."

Draco watched Hasan's blank eyes and keened.

"How can you not feel? Can you really not feel anything at all? I've been begging my father for days! Days! To let me give you that dagger!" At Neville's sharp intake of breath, Draco rounded on him, "Yes! The Malfoy family dagger! Three of its kind ever made, and I had to beg and make promises just to make father even consider it! And now you go off and make the Boy-Who-Lived some potions!"

Neville shrank back. Draco was in a frenzy now, blonde hair shaken loose from its gelled bindings, and chest heaving with the energy of his outburst. Malfoy's weren't supposed to lose control. Malfoy's weren't meant to make friends or beg or cry.

"Dammit!" Draco shouted before his eyes came to rest on a glorious golden mirror, mainly just to hide his face from the others.

"The mirror of Erised." Neville announced somewhat lamely. "I-I wanted to share it with you. But, um, I think you'll figure it out on your own." Desperate to leave the two, Neville hid back inside his cloak and ran quickly from the room. A distressed Malfoy was a scary thing indeed. It wasn't worth seeing his forbidden fruit again.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." Hasan read aloud, pointing to the inscription at the top. He didn't seem at all bothered that Neville had just left them alone. Or that Draco was now staring at him intently.

"Dammit, Hasan." Draco muttered, tears trekking slowly down his face. "I just don't understand why you like Longbottom more than me."

"Envy doesn't become you, Draco. Don't cry. It's a waste of emotion."

Malfoy laughed pitifully. "And you would know about emotion, wouldn't you?"

"No, no I wouldn't." Hasan said sadly. "I'm surprised that you asked your father for the dagger. I didn't know of its importance. France has similar things, but I had not made the correlation...I will give you a gift, Draco."

"No need." Draco said, even as his eyes wandered over to the mirror and stayed entranced there. "You couldn't give me what I need."

Hasan bit his lip as he watched Draco fall into the mirror's trance. His face became dreamlike and tranquil but fraught with such hideous anguish. A child's face shouldn't look like that, but it did. Hasan turned his large jade eyes towards the mirror and gazed with little excitement. There he was, there Draco was...and then, mirror-Hasan turned his wide jade eyes to Hasan, locking onto him as the reflection of his soul,...and the eyes glowed a brilliant emerald green, lighting up the entire mirror in emerald light...so beautiful...

.oOo.

"Hasan! Hasan!' a voice above was calling him, was slapping his face, and pulling his braid. "Hasan! Wake up! Merlin! Hasan!"

"Draco?" Hasan asked, then stilled as the world tilted on its axis. "Oh, Salazar, what happened?"

"I-I don't know, you were with me one second, and then you fell down the next."

"I...see." The green light, the emerald green light. It had been so beautiful, so beautiful...

"What did you see in the mirror?" Draco asked tentatively.

"What did you see?" Hasan asked, propping himself up on the castle floor.

Draco bit his lip and swallowed nervously.

"I saw...my entire family, all safe and well. No Azkaban, no danger, just-well, there."

The blond heaved a sigh and shifted uncomfortably. When he really thought about it, his family was so screwed up. How could he ever have what the mirror showed? Why did the mirror show things he couldn't have?

"Draco, I don't suppose you want to learn your Christmas gift now, do you?" Hasan wondered idly, succeeding in breaking through his brooding.

"Learn?" Draco echoed, wondering what on earth the boy was talking about.

"To be an animagus." Hasan turned to him and smiled teasingly, "I've just made all the preparations. You didn't think I forgot about you, did you, mon ami?"

.oOo.

It was exactly two days after Christmas when the Castell boy was back in Snape's office, enjoying some chocolate biscotti's.

"When will the potion be ready?" Hasan asked as Severus went around the room, reorganizing and sorting through various paperwork.

"I would have thought you knew, seeing as you know everything else," Snape sneered, looking at Hasan down his hooked nose. He sighed, "I expect it to be completed in another six months."

"Thank you...Do you mind giving me the extra three doses as well?" Hasan enquired. "I know it makes four, and I would really like to use them all."

Snape raised as arched eyebrow at this. "Four? Three extras for whom, may I ask?"

"Je ne sais pas, I don't know." Hasan answered.

Snape released an exasperated sigh. "Who do you think will use them?" This whole rephrasing sentences thing was really quite irritating. (Luckily, Severus Snape was a master at language so was able to rephrase within seconds!)

"Draco for his Christmas present." Hasan said happily. Snape fought not to wince. The last thing he needed was for Lucius junior to be scurrying around Hogwarts as some, undetectably, devilish animal! He nodded anyway, for he was curious as to whom else. "I am unsure as to the others."

"Think carefully, Mr. Castell. This is not a simple procedure. Mr. Malfoy shall come to me after he has completed his Analytical stage. I, in turn, will aid him in the Visualization stage and finally the potion."

Hasan smiled. He knew this had been a good idea.

"Professor? A bit off topic, but I was wondering. What do you know of the Mirror of Erised?"

Snape stiffened; Hasan's eyes narrowed.

"It is the mirror of desire." Snape answered shortly.

"Is it accurate?"

Snape stopped in his work and gave Hasan a shrewd, contemplative look.

"Why is it that you wish to know, Mr. Castell?"

"I saw it." Hasan breathed, and then bit his lip, "...and then I fainted."

"You...fainted?" Snape repeated tonelessly. "You somehow found the mirror and fainted? What in Merlin's name did you see?"

He knew that Dumbledore had placed the mirror inside the school for 'safekeeping,' but somehow it had escaped Severus mind that Dumbledore's definition of safe was not the same as his. What headmaster left a priceless artifact where any thoughtless urchin could come and knock it over?

"I saw emerald. A flash of emerald. Is there a spell that creates beautiful emerald light? It was so gorgeous. I lost myself in it..."

Severus swallowed, his breath hitching in his throat. He wasn't sure what to say, what to keep and what to tell. There was only one curse he knew of...only one.

"The killing curse, Mr. Castell." Severus told him gravely, "The Avada Kedavra, the worst of the three unforgivable." His voice was hoarse, and rightly so. This young boy in front of him had just described the killing curse as beautiful...

"I'm sorry." Hasan said, not sounding it at all. "But I think I'll be late for lunch if I don't leave right now."

"Of course." Severus said, frozen in place. "Of course..."

.oOo.

The final exams were looming ever closer and Hermione practically lived in the library. Yet, she still managed to have time for Hasan, Draco, and Neville, and would on occasion help Ron with his homework.

Draco, like Hasan, was more than prepared for his tests, and was only now mastering visualization with his godfather, Severus. He imagined his Animagus form to be large or small and shrewd. He wanted something he could use to impress, something that would be beautiful. It was truly the best Christmas gift ever, albeit a little past the deadline.

True to his word, Severus had saved the four batches for Hasan to do with as he pleased. Hasan wasn't sure if he wanted to train Hermione, but was even considering giving some to Neville. He decided to leave it be for now. After all, Snape could always make more.

During the course of the entire year, Altair had not sent one single letter. The only mail received was his Christmas gifts, which he loved with all his heart. He couldn't wait to see Altair again, and then he'd confront the man about Severus. The man really did know how to hide what was important to him.

.oOo.

"Tracey," Draco asked, "Want to play a game?"

"What kind of game?" Tracey questioned, as Daphne's interest caught. Pansy had drifted away from Draco in the subsequent months, and had taken to chatting meanly to Bullstrode.

"Wizard's Chess." Draco declared. "Hasan will play the winner." He gestured to Hasan to his left, who was currently reading the Two Towers for the umpteenth time.

"Oh, alright," Tracey said, sitting on the green velvet chair across from Draco's.

"I bet Draco's going to beat you again." Daphne teased. "Hey Hasan, who do you think will win?"

Hasan's eyes rose curiously from the pages of his book to stare innocently at the two players. Tracey was always cautious, but very smart. Draco was confident, and very sly. "I think Tracey will give Draco a run for his money." Hasan observed. "You each have your strengths and weaknesses. So it all depends on your ability to respond off of one another."

"Oh! Well said, Hasan!" Daphne gushed as Tracey made the first move.

"What do you mean?" Draco drawled, "He's always well spoken!"

"Yes, I suppose you're right, Draco... Hey, how's the Boy-Who-Lived? Haven't seen Neville in the library in a while." Daphne said.

"He's good as ever." Draco muttered, moving one of his pawns.

"I think he's just as happy for the summer hols as the rest of us!" Hasan interjected.

"Probably, but he may have to train too," Tracey said thoughtfully. "I'd hate to be him."

Yeah, you and me both. Hasan sighed inwardly.

"I still don't understand." Daphne muttered. "They've always said it was Harry Potter who defeated the Dark Lord. But now, Harry Potter is nowhere to be found and they say Neville's the one. Sounds like a farce to me."

"You may be right, Daphne," Tracey agreed softly, blocking Draco with her pawn. "Neville's levelheaded, but certainly not savior material. I wonder where they're hiding Harry Potter. Maybe he's even hiding from them."

During the length of this conversation, Hasan's heart began to beat rapidly. Damn Slytherins and their too intelligent minds!

He zoned out for a bit, thinking of his own Animagus form. Once he downed that potion, what would happen? Would he be large or small? Beautiful or plain? Ugly as all hell? Hasan found that it didn't matter as long as it was him. He was a little concerned about changing back though. Just recently, Hasan had managed to reverse the Glamor and Notice-Me-Not spell woven around him. It was truly terrifying to think he was stuck in Hasan's body, not that he didn't like it- he loved it. But those eyes. He loved those emerald eyes.

Would it be terrible if he said he wished to see emerald everywhere?

Hence his secrecy. After curfew, Hasan would cast multiple silencing charms around his room and bed, then practice the reversal in a large circular mirror he conjured. Raven liked to sit in on most of these training sessions, and Hasan felt a lot less empty without her.

The previous night, Hasan had imagined brilliant emerald before the wall colors glowed vibrantly. He had to switch it back of course, because it really didn't reflect prettily on his skin, but he tried it with some of his black shirts and dress robes, and he found a vast improvement in his wardrobe. It was a wonder he hadn't tried this before! He did find it strange that the wand responded to his thoughts rather than to a spoken spell, but he figured he'd ask Professor Snape about unspoken spells later. Altair, while skilled, didn't appreciate silent casting, but Hasan wasn't ignorant enough to go running to any of he other teachers. They would surely tell Dumbledore and he would no doubt want to keep an eye on him. Horrifying!

So Hasan remained silent on the account of his identity, his appearance, his silent castings, the Animagus project, the mirror, and the stone. Who knew Hogwarts could've been so fun?

"Hasan? Want to play Tracey?" Draco asked, nudging him a bit.

"Yes, pourquoi pas?" Hasan smiled, taking Draco's place.

"I'm warning you, I'm not going easy, Hasan. Even if you are a French boy." Tracey winked.

"I wouldn't imagine it any other way." Hasan returned.

The game was rather mundane at first. Tracey moved, Hasan moved, Tracey moved, Hasan moved...but then it began to look much a mess of strings. They had been at it so long that many of their housemates had come over to become spectators. Tracey herself was gaping.

"Hasan, I never knew you could play!" she exclaimed, seeing the mess too. Hasan nodded. The board was, as clear as day, a fancy game of dominoes. The possibilities had dwindled down, and some quick thinking brought the possible paths down to twenty. Tracey pursed her lips as she decided what to do, but Hasan remained as blank and calm as ever.

There were whispers as Tracey took his castle with her knight, and then Hasan brought his Queen to take her bishop. His King was in the open, but so wedge between the players that he was practically untouchable.

A few moves later, and Hasan descended his Knight to kill her Queen. Then there was only Tracey's King and a few others, but the King was what everyone focussed on. She had three moves to get out of there. Tracey, Hasan, Tracey, Hasan, Tracey. Yes! But then Hasan slid his King into the slot, and Tracey was most thoroughly trapped. She couldn't move back the way she came because Hasan's pieces had basically followed her. She couldn't move her piece at all! Her hand hovered over her last pawn, and it inched forward most pathetically. Hasan moved one his pieces forward.

"Checkmate, mademoiselle." Hasan smiled as her face dropped. "A truly lovely game." They shook hands over the clapping and gossip of the crowd, and Hasan quickly excused himself to go to bed. Exams were coming after all. Another game like that would take them to two in the morning...

.oOo.

It was right after exams that it happened. Hasan, Hermione, Draco, and Neville were pouring out of the castle with the rest of the school. Tracey and Daphne were still obligated to unite with Pansy, which was a shame really. Perhaps next year they would manage to break free? Hasan shook his head with a silent laugh. They were probably better protected as a unit. Why risk their Slytherin status to hang out with the Boy-Who-Lived, and the two odd Slytherins that didn't need to worry about association to save their hide?

"Hasan, what's wrong?" Draco asked worriedly, putting his hands on Hasan's shoulders. (It truly was a testament of their friendship, seeing how far they had come since Hasan threatened to break his bones...) Neville and Hermione whipped around to study the jade-eyed boy as well.

"Are you feeling alright, Hasan?" Hermione queried nervously. "Should I get Professor Snape for you? Or Professor McGonagall? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?" Her voice got shriller as she fretted. Neville, wide-eyed beside her, didn't look much better.

"It's..." Well, he could hardly say his scar was hurting, could he? It had happened after their DADA exam. Professor Quirrell had looked up oh-so-innocently and had just happened to lock eyes with Hasan. There was no suspicion in his gaze, but a tingling lingered in his mind, as if someone had decided to use Legilimency...but Hasan had natural Occulomency shields. He wasn't sure if Quirrell was trying to read his mind, to be perfectly truthful. But then, why did he have this prickling? Ow! What in Salazar's name-! It actually hurt! It was the oddest sensation: the rest of his body, even his head was fine, except for that one lightning bolt scar...

"Hasan?" Neville asked nervously.

"I-I think Quirrell is planning on fetching the stone today." Hasan quietly hissed.

"Wait, how do you know?" Hermione wondered sharply. "Did he say something unusual?"

"No, but...I've just got a bad feeling about this." Hasan felt breathing behind him and turned around nonchalantly as Severus Snape descended from the shadows. He seemed mildly surprised that Hasan was facing him while the other four just gaped in surprise. It was most unbecoming of a Malfoy.

"What would four children be doing in the entrance on a day like this?" Snape sneered, his glittered obsidian eyes boring into Hermione and Neville.

"W-well, we were just-" Hermione started, but was cut off from a sharp glare from Hasan. Snape raised a delicate eyebrow and looked to Hasan instead.

"I suggest you don't try to lie, Mr. Castell." Snape threatened icily. Hasan was again reminded why more than half the school loathed this man, but he couldn't bring himself to feel either way.

"My head hurts." Hasan said simply. "My friends were concerned."

"Indeed."

His gaze swept across the forms and the Gryffindors, but Draco stood his ground.

"Sir, isn't there a potion or something..."

"I believe my time is rather occupied with other potions at the present moment." Snape said cryptically. "One of which should be complete within the week, and will be sent with the others." His gaze lingered on Hasan, though it was Draco who revealed the true weight of his words.

"Thank you, sir." Draco said, only using sir as a formality, since he called him Sev in private.

Hermione and Neville were gaping, but tried to appear as if they were not interested. So what if the Slytherins had formed a bond with their head of house?

"I suggest frolicking with your classmates." Snape spat, "Someone might think it odd for four children to be hanging around the entrance..."

Hasan nodded.

"We were just about to go."

Seemingly satisfied, the Potions Master swept from their presence, black cloak following menacingly behind him. Hermione opened her mouth to ask what had just gone on, but Hasan easily distracted them with an 'ow!' and a few words related to the stone.

"We'll go at ten, when everyone's asleep." Hasan said.

"I'll bring the cloak." Neville volunteered. "I think we'll all fit under it."

"Hasan, are you absolutely sure? What if were caught? Or expelled!" Hermione whispered furiously.

"Then I will personally introduce you into Beauxbatons," Hasan said unconcerned. "You'd fit right in, all the girls are gorgeous and intelligent." Hasan actually had little proof of this, but it seemed to soothe Hermione and her ego just a bit.

"We'll meet you outside the library again?" Draco wondered. Neville nodded to Hermione's horrification.

"You did this before!" Hermione flipped.

"Ne t'en fais pas, Hermione," Hasan smiled. "It may take four of us, but we can defeat that fraud of a DADA professor. Trust me."

Hermione melted.

.oOo.

At ten thirty, the four ventured into the third floor corridor and reached the locked room in a timely fashion. Hasan remembered the locked rooms at the Leaky Cauldron and touched the knob with the intention of opening it. He felt his magic extend down his fingertips before the door clicked open and Hasan led them in. The others thought nothing of it, for their attention as soon occupied by a giant three-headed dog. And they thought the troll was bad.

"Lumos!" Draco murmured, and the entire room came into clarity. The beast was slightly more terrifying than before, with drool dripping down its enumerable pointy fangs, and claws many inches long, but another discover stifled their worries. The dog was asleep, laying on its side, beside the trapdoor. A harp was playing next to utter silence by the dog's long floppy ears, but each not strung kept the dog at bay.

"Well that's ironic." Hermione said. "Music to soothe the savage beast!"

Within minutes, the four were down the chute, and had quickly overcome the Devil's Snare with Neville's plant expertise. The broom challenge they left to Draco, who was more than eager to oblige, doing all sorts of fancy twists and turns.

"Catch it, Draco!"

"To your left, right! Up!"

Hasan was staring at the up-and-coming quidditch player with little more than faint interest.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Hasan sighed after what felt like eternity. (It had only been seven minutes). Hasan grabbed a broom and kicked off, hardly hearing the Gryffindor's frantic shouts below.

"Hasan! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Get down! Draco can do it!"

Instead, Hasan was focused on the little winged key that Draco was most definitely failing at catching. Draco's head was hurting about now, from all the rapid movement and getting hit in the head by all the other metal keys. It was a minute before Draco noticed his fellow flyer.

"Hasan?" Draco queried in awe. Hasan coked an eyebrow at him, a rather cheeky move for someone who didn't show much emotion.

"I'd like to be over before Snape gets suspicious, Draco." Hasan said simply. "It's been seven minutes..."

Draco made a face at that, but Hasan chose wisely to ignore it.

"Give me a second." Hasan said, before diving at the irritating little object. The key flitted about mockingly, zipping and zooming from one end of the room to another. Hasan, who had not been on a broom in ages (because Madam Hooch absolutely refused to teach the accident prone firsties), was marveling at the ease at which he was able to now. Hasan was lean, light, and very fast, with keen eyes and a sharp mind. He was the ideal seeker, if only Hasan showed some interest in the sport.

It stemmed from some psychological disorder where he always wanted to be sure. He needed clarity, intent, and above all control. He didn't like changes to his schedules, though he was rather flexible for all it irritated him. It wasn't that he was an utter bastard about it, just that if he was studying for Herbology, he really didn't want to have to switch gears to study for something else because of some random pop test- he wanted to finish what he started. He knew that he'd get it all done anyway.

Right now, Hasan felt remarkably in control. Brooms were never his favorite thing because his feet were off the ground, and one strong breeze could practically cripple him for life. That being said, Hasan was actually enjoying the look of pure surprise on Draco's face. Within seconds, he had pinned the little key down in his fist, its wings fluttered rapidly and angrily as he gripped it harder.

"Well done!' Draco clapped as he alighted off his broom. "I didn't know you could fly!"

"Wow, Hasan!" Hermione cheered. Neville nodded in absolute awe.

"Let us continue, mes amies." Hasan said briskly, sliding the key into the slot, and entering into the next realm.

Before them was a giant chess set, reminiscent of Hasan's game with the Slytherins.

"Should've brought Ron," Neville was mumbling, "He beats me every time."

Draco tried hard not to laugh, as Neville would probably lose to Crabbe and Goyle together, if given the chance.

"Don't worry, Hermione. Hasan's quite capable, aren't you, Hasan?"

Hasan let a smile seep onto his face, infused with a certain amount of mischievous as he directed his friends. The entire game reminded him of Professor McGonagall for some odd reason. Probably because she realized how important every single move was to make, and not to strike out at the wrong time. Minerva knew patience, but also knew how to play one in a while. It described her perfectly. And though Hasan wasn't too much of an emotion person himself, he fancied himself a good reader of others.

"Checkmate!" Neville roared as he slashed the opponent's Queen. The stone pieces bowed and let the children pass onto the next chamber. Hasan found himself bringing up the rear.

The next chamber was rather a letdown, for the murdered troll was just that- already murdered. It still wreaked to high heaven though, and Hermione had to cast a quick air freshening charm on them all. Neville shuddered as he walked past but Draco smirked at it triumphantly, as if he had defeated the troll. Hasan ignored them both.

Upon entering the following chamber, through dramatic purple flames, Hasan noticed that it contained but a single table with exactly seven potion bottles and a piece of parchment. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had created this barrier.

"Sev!" Draco groaned after he had read the clues aloud. "How in Salazar's name are we ever going to get through this?" He brought his hand up dramatically as Hermione snatched the paper from him.

"It's simple logic, Draco." Hermione informed him in her presentation voice. "Many witches and wizards don't have an ounce of logic in them, and would be stuck her for eternity."

Neville let out a whimper. He wouldn't out it past the greasy bastard to trap the Boy-Who-Lived and his fellow Gryffindor in here forever! (He momentarily forgot that Hasan and Draco were Slytherins.)

"Oh, I've got it!" Hermione screamed victoriously, "The smallest one will send us forward through the black flames, but the rounded one on the right should send us back through the purple flames."

"A-are you sure it's not poison?" Neville asked nervously, looking pleadingly at Hermione.

"No, I'm positive," Hermione said matter of factly.

Draco was gobsmacked. He looked to Hasan who was smiling smugly. Yes, this was why he had befriended this witch back on the train. Merlin knew he could do it with the right focus, but time was of the essence! Suppose Snape found them out of bed? He'd skin them!

"Im-impressive, Hermione." Draco said stiffly. He winced as if it was a blow to his pride, but Hermione beamed and actually hugged him.

"It appears as if there's only enough potion forward for two..." Hermione said sadly.

"I-I'll go." Neville stuttered. "I'm the B-boy-Who-Lived." He seemed to drown in guilt as he said it, but Hasan was sure he was plotting Dumbledore's awful demise.

Draco seemed wary as he glanced at the flames.

"Hasan?" he asked. "I don't want to just leave you but..."

"It will be fine, Draco." Hasan smiled lightly. "Now Hermione, Draco. If we don't emerge in ten minutes I want you to run and get Professor Snape."

"Why not the Headmaster, Hasan?" Hermione enquired.

"Snape." Hasan repeated. "And if he's not here, be sure to get him here."

Hermione's lip trembled, but she held her head high.

"Be safe." Draco murmured.

Hermione took the first sip, quickly followed by Draco. When they had disappeared through the flames, Hasan turned to Neville.

"You can do this, Neville." Hasan said. He wasn't the encouraging type, but he felt as if anything would be god right now.

"I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore expects me to do these things..." Neville was mumbling to himself. "I can do it. I can do it..."

"Of course you can, Neville." Hasan whispered. "Just take a sip. I'll be right behind you."

.oOo.

"Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived." a disgustingly hoarse voice floated out to the flames and the shadows where Neville was trembling.

"Y-yes." Neville shouted (stupidly, Hasan thought).

Hasan emerged past the flames just as Neville began to shake violently. Oh, sweet Merlin!

"You can do this, Neville." Hasan whispered, placing a hand on Neville's shoulder. Neville gripped his wand tighter, as he nodded tersely. The two returned their attention forward and Hasan would have gasped if he had not been so unaware.

Right before them, below the short circular stairs, was the mirror of Erised, rising grandiloquently in the otherwise empty chamber. An amethyst turban was unwrapped on the ground, and a man, not Quirrell was facing the mirror, so that Hasan could see the mutilated reflection. Quirrell's actual face was facing them, however, but he seemed dismayed, nervous almost. When he spoke, it was not his mouth that was moving, but the one in the reflection.

Neville stifled a keen.

"And who iss thiss you have brought, Neville Longbottom? A friend? An ally perhaps?" the voice was teasing, but so fatally sharp.

Neville took a step forward, into the light, facing the DADA professor head on. It was rather surreal, seeing as how Neville had just taken an exam with the man mere hours before...

"A friend!" Neville shouted firmly.

"Ah, a friend." the voice purred he brought Quirrell's hand up to the mirror, and Quirrell winced in pain as his hand was twisted at an unnatural angle. With a snap of the same hand, robes sprung up around Hasan and Neville's body, Neville falling to the floor with a muffled shout and a crash, Hasan landing gracefully with a soft thud. How predictable, Hasan murmured inwardly, how did Neville not see that one coming? At least Hasan had had time to cast a quick silent cushioning charm... "What has the fool, Dumbledore done! I can see myself getting the stone! But nothing more! Where is it hidden!"

"M-master, if I may," Quirrell pleaded.

"You can't do anything." the voice shrieked, then chuckled as if catching on to a joke, "I sssee...use the boy. Bring him here, Quirrell. Have him stand in front of the mirror and tell me what he sees."

A snap of fingers later, and Neville was on his shaking feet, completely untied, but with Quirrell's creepy hands on his back. Not that Neville would have done anything anyway. He was just petrified with fright.

"I-I see my-" Gran, no! He couldn't say Gran! What if they targeted her? But then, the image dissolved away to be replaced with him, and the stone in his hand, now slipping into his pocket...! He felt it now, against his leg. The stone! What was he going to do? Ah! Panic! "-self winning the House Cup."

"Er," Quirrell said.

"You idiot! He's lying!" the voice spat.

The ugly, demented face of what Hasan assumed to be Voldemort (because there weren't many pictures of the wizard in this...unusual state) faced Hasan, but looked on blankly, as if focusing on what was through Quirrell's eyes. He probably was, Hasan realized, and began to gather his magic...

"Turn around and let me face him!" Voldemort demanded. Quirrell did so hurriedly before the order was fully out. "What do you see, Longbottom? I know it's in your pocket."

Neville froze, not even attempting to feint. "Yes, Lord Voldemort knows all." he hissed and sent a crucio to Neville, who instantaneously threw the stone to Hasan...

Hasan was not enjoying the show. It was rather one sided, no pun intended, and the dialogue was a bit too dry. He had managed so far to undo his bindings, but left them on for show. But as the stone swiveled in the air, Neville falling to the floor unconscious, Hasan lunged in combination with a summoning charm (which predictably didn't work), and amazingly caught the tiny object! His bonds fell free as he leapt, and he straightened himself before turning to face the Dark Lord.

"I was wondering if I would see you today, Mr. Castell." Voldemort hissed. "I haven't heard that name in a while. You must be the last in the line. After I killed your father."

Hasan was cursing Altair right now for not giving him more background information. But Voldemort was practically feeding it to him off a stick! The bastard thought Altair was dead!

"Or perhaps not...Harry Potter." Voldemort growled. Quirrell gasped in surprised on the other side of him.

"H-h-harry P-potter!" This time, his stutter was not forced.

"Did Dumbledore really think, I, the great Dark Lord would not be able to remember who ripped me from my body?" Voldemort cried in outrage. "Or that your silly disguise would hide you from me? I can feel it, your aura, calling out to me. We're connected, always."

"How?" Hasan asked, leaving the question purposefully open-ended. How did he sense it? How were they connected?

"How?" Voldemort repeated. "I could ask you the same thing. How was it-" he advanced slowly, "-that a baby with no magical talent has defeated me? The greatest wizard of all time?"

"You're not." Hasan protested.

"Not what?"

"The greatest wizard...Gandalf is."

The Dark Lord actually looked surprised. What the hell? As his red pupils narrowed, he saw that beneath that empty exterior of Hasan Castell that the boy was actually mocking him! Him! Lord Voldemort!

"The stone, Harry Potter. Give me the stone and I won't kill Dumbledore's precious golden boy." Voldemort took a step back and pointed his wand slowly (melodramatically) at the unconscious form of Neville Longbottom.

"Go ahead." Hasan whispered. "Go ahead, you still won't win, Tom." (He vaguely remembered Altair mentioning his name prior that year.) "A death won't make me give you what you seek."

Voldemort was clearly enraged, at the name or the taunt, yet he forced a terrible laugh out of his ghastly lips.

"You would've made an excellent Death Eater." he continued, now only three feet away from the boy. "Avada-"

"I'll destroy the stone." Hasan spoke up lightly. "I'll destroy the stone and you'll be left crippled, feeding off unicorn blood and Quirrell for all of eternity."

This gave the Dark Lord pause. "We could be great you know. Your secret, hidden forever..." He attempted to tempt the boy, be that forbidden fruit dangling just out of reach. Amazingly, what had worked on almost every wizard he had come across did nothing to faze Hasan Castell.

"Why did you kill my parents?" Hasan asked suddenly.

"They were fools to oppose me!" Voldemort leered, his face nearly inches from Hasan's own. He did not care that the question was entirely off topic, but that he could now go ahead and kill the boy, "and now, Harry Potter, you will join them."

A hand made a mad grab for the stone as Voldemort raised his wand, and as skilled as Hasan was, Voldemort was just too fast. His nails clawed at Hasan's fist, but then they were yanked suddenly back. Hasan blinked in surprise, watching as bright red blisters blossomed angrily on his sallow flesh, and Hasan smirked. Oh, this was lovely!

He lunged for the monster's face, the stone slipping out of his hand as his palms clawed desperately at the eyes and mouth.

"Grab him! Grab him! Get the stone!" Voldemort shrieked, but every time Quirrell's body would get up or raise a wand, Hasan was there, somehow burning off his skin.

"Master, I c-cannot hold him!" the professor yelped as the two bodies became entangled in a violent somersault.

"You don't need to." Hasan murmured, and felt a fleeting surge of power. With one last exhausted effort, Hasan grabbed the man's neck and dug his nails in, even as his world was blacking out around him.

But he thought, just as he was entering that realm of imagination, that he heard an agonizing screech, and saw black mist rise up and clear away, leaving the faintest image of obsidian eyes...