Chapter 4: The Hogwarts Express

Their ice cream was mostly finished now, eaten carefully and somewhat sadly in their hidden manor. Hasan wished they could have finished them in Diagon Alley- it would have made his birthday complete- but he also knew there was a reason why they had to have left. And Hasan was going to get to the bottom of it.

Hasan watched his dad, whom had already finished his cone, down his last potion of the month, shudder, and then put the stopper back in. They were sitting in the living room, where on his first day there, Altair had magicked a bed across from the kitchen. Today, the two couches sat perpendicular with the longer one facing the fireplace, and the shorter one with its back to the kitchen. Hasan bit off the bottom of his cone, and then turned to stare at his father. His school supplies were already packed away, and his new owl, Raven, was sleeping in her cage on top of the trunk.

Altair noticed Hasan's look and feigned ignorance, but he was never one to put up with unsaid conversations. He ended up sighing and asking the inevitable question:

"What?"

Hasan bit his lower lip, an affectation he had adopted for his demeanor of 'Hasan,' dull jade eyes studying his father's now brown hair, (the white hair was kind of odd, so Altair had taken down the glamour as soon as they arrived), as he began the interrogation.

"Why haven't I ever heard of the Dark Lord?" His words hung in the heavy air, betrayal infused with the slight strain on his voice. "Why did Hermione Granger, that muggleborn witch I've met today, know more about Wizarding society than me? Have you been lying to me? Keeping things from me? Is this why you've been training me? Because of some Dark Lord who's supposed to be dead?"

Altair flinched back at his son's harsh words. Hasan didn't shout, he didn't ask questions that Altair didn't have the answers to, but this came too close. Too uncomfortably close to a truth Altair had wished to delay the disclosure of.

"Hasan..." he began heavily, "Do you remember when I adopted you?"

"Yes. You set the bloody folder on fire before I knew what magic was." Hasan answered apathetically, wondering where this was going.

Altair chuckled at the memory, but the sound was half-hearted and pitifully melancholy.

"And you know I must take those potions twice a month." Altair said, gesturing to the vial.

Hasan nodded. Yes, he wasn't a complete idiot.

"I am alive, you know. But what does that have to do with me?"

"Oh, I'm not sure if I should work backwards or forwards." Altair sighed to himself. "Well, let's start backwards until I can't retell any further, alright?...So I found you at the Leaky Cauldron, tracing you from Penelope's House to there. I suppose you assumed I had just cast a point-me or something, but we found out later that you're unplottable. I can only guess that you've had a tracking charm on you before and your magic rejected it in a time of need. I suppose that raises more questions though, like who and why, but the point is that I did not cast a spell to find you."

Hasan nodded slowly, watching his father's face for signs of distress or indications of falsehood. He only found a tired man, made to turn out his only valuable possessions. But Hasan didn't care. This man had lied to him! Or at least hid the truth, and though nothing could indict him yet, there must have been a reason for the secrecy.

"How did you find me then?" Hasan asked to get the story moving along.

"I followed your magical aura." Altair said, a proud gleam in his eyes. "Yours was so powerful and...pure. I have the ability to sense magic in that way, which was why I had to leave the wand shop or risk a killer headache. These Muted Sight potions nullify my power, or dampen it at worst. But I was not born with this power, this Magic Sight. I had taken a random assortment of potions, many years ago, hoping that it would kill me. It did not."

"You tried to kill yourself, but instead got a power. You found an orphan with power and adopted him, and you hide in France when it's clear you belong in Britain. Why kill yourself? What was the alternative? Was someone after you— it was...the Dark Lord wasn't it?"

"Yes, Hasan, the Dark Lord." Altair shuddered. "V-v-voldem-mort."

"Flight of death." Hasan whispered. "It's French, so why are we hiding in France if you're trying to get away,...unless he too belongs to Britain."

"Yes, he was British, and he was a madman. He wa-is obsessed with blood-purity and immortality! The former was how he gained his initial followers. The latter was what twisted him beyond repair. His name was Tom, did you know that?" Altair trailed off.

"But he's gone." Hasan whispered. "Hermione said that the Boy-Who-Lived killed him." She also said that the Boy-Who-Lived was Harry Potter, and that he would be coming to Hogwarts this year. Hasan shoved these thoughts down, not wanting to have to deal with the guilt of his deception. Hypocrite, indeed, he was hiding more than his father would have ever thought.

"I've heard that rumor too." Altair sighed. Hasan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you not telling me? Why was Voldemort after you?"

"I'm not a great Potions Master, or a skilled duelist, but you see, I've got this knack of getting into things I shouldn't. Not that Voldemort cared about luck, but I would have made the superb spy. The Dark Lord wanted to install one into Hogwarts, and I was truly terrified. The Dark Lord killed millions of families during the First Wizarding War. He was a ruthless killer, something entirely less than human! I had to get away, so I drank the potions. It was a bargain, but my luck pulled me through."

"You don't seem to rely on luck much now." Hasan remarked dryly, remembering the grueling training sessions accompanied with the words 'luck can't save you all the time.' "And I'd wager, you don't believe Voldemort's gone either." Altair really did flinch. "What?"

"You-Know-Who, or the Dark Lord. Never Voldemort." Altair said. He had wished to keep from saying this, but he really didn't want to hear that name more than was necessary. Besides, what would Hogwarts think of a boy who said Voldemort?

"Okay, the Dark Lord..." Hasan paused, knowing that fear over a name was stupid, but respected his dad enough to abide by his request. He thought over the day and how many questions he had over it. "Why did we have to leave just now? And don't tell me you were seen, you couldn't have been if you faked your own death, and I know for a fact it wasn't the aurors."

"Got me there." Altair grumbled. "That boy you were with...he just looked familiar, that's all." Altair tried to keep an air of nonchalance, but a heavy sadness drew over him like a shroud. Hasan remembered the cool stare of Draco's father and knew that his father must have known him. Perhaps at Hogwarts.

"His father." Hasan breathed. "You knew his father."

Altair nodded, looking suddenly as if miles away.

"Yes, Lucius Malfoy. He practically runs the Ministry of Magic with all the wealth he's got. Not to mention other incentives. He's a right bastard, through and through."

"He's dangerous, basically." Hasan confirmed slowly.

"Yes."

"He was a supporter of the Dark Lord?"

A nod. "Yes, he is."

"And you aren't forbidding me from befriending his son?"

Altair hesitated. "N-no."

"Even if his father wants him to watch me?"

"How did you-?"

"I figured." Hasan yawned. "Draco made it pretty obvious that they were discussing me. If you had forbidden me from seeing him, it would only cause suspicion. His father would want to know why I was avoiding them, and if they thought my parents had something to do with it, then they might just pry a little too far."

Altair smiled proudly at his son. "Sometimes I forget just how smart you are. You'll do great at Hogwarts, I know it."

"Thanks dad."

"And don't forget it. Just because I didn't give birth to you doesn't me you aren't my son."

"Dad!" Hasan laughed.

"Go to bed, son. Maybe even crack open a potions journal- there's no need to hide what I take any longer."

Hasan obeyed, eager to learn more.

But Altair stayed up many hours later.

.oOo.

"ALBUS! I TOLD YOU THAT THOSE MUGGLES WERE GOOD FOR NOTHING ORDINARY OBSESSED PEOPLE!"

"Minerva, dear!"

"DON'T YOU DARE 'DEAR' ME, ALBUS!"

Pomona glanced at Poppy uncomfortably as they entered the room side-by-side. Minerva and Albus were usually in total agreement, so when they had been called up to the headmaster's office, they had not expected to find one irritated Severus Snape (actually they had), one distraught Hagrid, and exactly one Albus and one Minerva at war.

"What's going on?" Pomona ventured as she drew closer into the room.

"Ask him!" Minerva screeched, pointing accusingly at Albus.

"Albus?" Pomona enquired. Albus shuddered slightly before answering rather reluctantly, as if ashamed of his past actions.

"Yes, well...(Albus cleared his throat.) Ten years ago, Harry Potter was taken to his aunt and uncle's house, related through Lily—"

"Professor Dumbledore, no! It was ME! I took 'im there! I sentenced lil' Harry to those terrible muggles!"

"Be quiet, Hagrid!" Minerva said sharply, having already had enough of his wails, "It was not your fault! Albus and I came later and could have taken Harry away if only someone hadn't insisted on the bloodwards. Which, by the way, were not detected at the Dursley residence last time I checked!"

Albus had the sense to look abashed.

"Minerva, what are you saying?" Poppy piped up. "Is Harry not going to come to Hogwarts?"

"Oh, just like his father! Too cool to show up to get an education!" Severus sneered. His lips pressed into a fine line as he continued his mental libel.

"Severus, is that really necessary? Harry isn't James, besides, you haven't even met the kid." Poppy chided, then turning to Albus. "Now, Albus, what's the matter?"

"Harry's gone." Albus said quietly. There was a hush that fell over the room. "His relatives dropped him off at an orphanage near London called Penelope's House, when he was just four. When Hagrid went to the orphanage in search of answers, the one manager had no recollection whatsoever of such a boy existing. None of the kids did either."

"But surely their memories could have been tampered with!" Pomona shouted outraged. How could you just lose a kid? Harry Potter, no less!

"Yes, we thought of that. But either the person who erased the memories was talented enough to not leave any traces, or the Dursley's lied, which isn't so hard to believe. Did you know they made the boy live in the cupboard under the stairs?" Minerva exclaimed. "Yes! We searched the house and there had been signs of someone actually living under the stairs!"

There was a long silence, only broken by Snape's usual insightfulness.

"If he does not show up tomorrow, the Wizarding World will be in an uproar. I suggest we fabricate some sort of story that the Boy-Who-Lived is off training in the mountains." He tried, really he did, to not sneer Harry's epitaph, because he was, really and truly, concerned. Which was funny really, seeing how he was determined to hate the Potter boy.

"And when he's not here next year and the year after?" Poppy shook her head. "No, this is just terrible! Does the rest of the staff know?"

"Only a few." Albus said. "I'll continue to see if I can reactivate the tracking charm I've placed on him, and then we'll look into scrying..."

The staff members nodded solemnly as the truth sunk in. Harry Potter, the boy they had been waiting for forever, the boy who they'd talked of during staff meetings, and the boy who was the savior of the Wizarding World was missing. And if Dumbledore couldn't find him, then it was a very worrying thing indeed.

"What's odd about this," Minerva started quietly, "is that the book hasn't erased his name." She walked to the back of the office, and summoned the large tome underneath the sorting hat. The book opened to the correct page as if reading her thoughts, and she placed it on the headmaster's desk. Written in beautiful script was the list of this generation of Hogwart's students, ranging from Hannah Abbott to Blaise Zabini.

They frowned at the not-crossed-out name of Harry Potter asking themselves what it could possibly mean. That had gone over the list of students so many times that it seemed so real and natural that Harry Potter would be coming this year. Apparently he would not.

"We still need to prepare for the Welcoming Feast." Albus said sadly, dismissing the rest of the staff with a wave of his arm. Sad glances caught each other as they walked out. How could this have happened?

What no one by Severus saw, however, was a rather peculiar jotting of Hasan Castell. Severus made no indication of having seen it, though, and swept immediately to the dungeons upon being dismissed. Striding down to the Potions Classroom, he thought of the Muted Sights potion he had yet to make for September for a certain Altair Castell. Why the idiot decided that ingesting mystery potions was the best way out, Severus would never know, but what he did know, was that Altair did not have a son. He knew this positively, as did the rest of the Death Eaters sent to investigate his sudden disappearance.

Perhaps the boy was adopted then? How odd. Altair wasn't one to go out of his way, preferring to lay low least someone recognize him from their school days. Still, it begged the question: How? And suddenly, Severus Snape wasn't so bored at the prospect of more cretins entering the school. Even if one of those cretins was his own godson.

This was going to be an interesting year indeed.

.oOo.

(One Month Later.)

Altair Castell and Hasan materialized in a small alleyway near King's Cross Station.

"Here's your ticket, Hasan. Have a fun year, use that head of yours."

He kissed his son's brow and handed him his trunk and owl, before disappearing with a 'pop'. Hasan understood his father's paranoia just a little bit better now, and didn't feel too bad about walking alone to the station, while everyone else was surrounded by loving family. He passed a group of redheads, causing quite a cacophony in the parking lot, and wondered how the mother could live with them all as he entered into the building.

Platform 9 and 3/4, easy right? Hasan looked around the large station, spotting the Platform 10 sign quite easily in the distance. He hurried towards it, dragging his small trunk behind him, eager to be on his way to the Hogwarts Express. But as he neared it, the tell-tale white-blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy was right in front of him. Shit indeed.

Next to Lucius was a lovely woman with golden hair, the tassels falling elegantly down her back. Both parents wore a set of resplendent dark green robes, trimmed with black that looked silver when the light caught it. Draco was looking at the wall apprehensively, wearing black robes with his platinum hair slicked back. He carried a small leather trunk, most likely under a shrinking charm, and an owl in a silver cage in his other hand. The trunk's wheels slowed, indicating that the family had just got there, and that Hasan had been following them for some time, despite not noticing it. Or maybe, Draco was just scared.

"It's alright, Dragon, just walk right through. We'll be right behind you." the woman beamed, placing a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder.

"A Malfoy is never scared." Lucius stated as sympathetically (or rather pathetically) as he could. Emotion wasn't exactly his strong suit, at least, not directed at his son or wife, or any other family member. But he did have some fatherly instincts that made him want to soothe Draco's worry, that, and he hardly needed people talking about Draco's nervousness.

Draco gave a curt nod to his parents and stepped through the barrier, his mother right on his heels to be there for him on the other side. Hasan found himself pondering a mother's affection for her child, and wondered absently if his mother held any of the same sort of love for him. From Altair's patchy answers yesterday, Hasan had managed to stitch together an accurate picture of Harry Potter's beginnings as well as discover a few other things:

First of all, the Dark Lord was rumored to be vanquished...by a one-year-old, (he had pieced his age together from the Dursley's complaints. Apparently, he had intruded on the family when he was only a year old.) This meant that the Dark Lord had probably killed his parents. For, apart from the Dursley's, who would leave a baby unsupervised?

Second, Lucius Malfoy and Altair knew each other and Altair was terrified of discovery, yet, he was allowed to befriend the Malfoy heir because Altair loved him like a son.

Third, Lucius Malfoy was a follower of Lord Voldemort, who was not dead (if Altair was correct), which meant if Voldemort came back and decided to kill him again- a very likely possibility since he was known as the Boy-Who-Lived- Lucius would probably want the glory of delivering Hasan to the Dark Lord.

So basically, Hasan would have to make sure Draco and he were very close in order to have a fair warning of his possible death. Either by Draco going out of his way to find something out and report back to him, like a spy, or Draco's behavior would be so familiar that he would give himself away by acting out of the ordinary.

Hasan was pretty complacent about his new plan. It was all common sense, really. Thoughts of friendship were so far off the mark that Hasan didn't feel the least bit guilty about hoodwinking another innocent soul. He never had any friends, and didn't entertain the prospect of gaining any more in the future. With these happy thoughts, Hasan watched Lucius step through the barrier after his wife, and then he followed.

.oOo.

Hasan passed through the barrier gracefully, blinking in wonder at the sheer mass of hidden people. Families were packed comfortably throughout the hustle and bustle, kissing reluctant kids, or beaming at eager children ready to be sent off to yet another lovely year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hasan glimpsed the Malfoy's off talking with some other (probably pureblood) family, and walking away. Damn, they moved fast. Hasan was actually in indecision at this point. He didn't want to make it so blatantly obvious as to follow Draco like a lapdog, but he was determined to get close one way or another. Yet, why cut off your other options? He smiled charmingly around the crowded station, and picked his way through until he reached a familiar face.

"Hasan!" the bushy haired witch screamed, running and giving him a hug. She was already in her witch's robes just as Hasan was in his wizard's. The excited girl seemed to remember herself a minute later, however, because she hastily removed herself from his person and blushed at the ground.

"Hello, Hermione!" Hasan replied smoothly, before beaming up at her parents. The mother looked extremely pleased that Hasan had remembered her daughter, the father, on the other hand, looked positively calculating, probably to remember his face in case Hasan 'messed' with his daughter later on in life. Helen seemed to know what Jeremy was thinking for she nudged him slightly in the arm. The husband nodded then slapped a semi pleasant smile on his face, seeing as Hermione was only eleven, but well, fathers will be fathers, and he was only looking out for her.

"I'm Jeremy, Hermione's father."

"Mr. Granger," Hasan smiled, "I call myself Hasan."

The man looked oddly at his sentence structure, but before he could comment, Hermione pounced.

"Where's your father?" Hermione queried innocently, looking around at the space behind him.

"He had to work really early today, but he was kind enough to drop me off." Hasan said cheerfully, though he felt anything but.

"Oh, that's nice of him." Hermione agreed readily, but Hasan thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in her chocolate brown eyes.

"I think the Express is scheduled to leave in five minutes." Helen remarked to Hermione's absolute excitement.

"I can't wait!" she squealed, hastily giving her parents a hug.

Hasan watched them as they embraced, with slowly blinking eyes. He added this to his list of things he knew about love and family, which was admittedly very short, seeing as his only real (he used this word loosely for he was never quite sure what real was) family was Altair, and even that was just for three years. Yet remarkably, Hasan didn't feel a pang of jealousy, or regret at not having parents. Goodness knew he had his own moments of emotion but generally speaking, he was rather unattached to his sensitive side. It wasn't like he knew his parents. It didn't make sense to mourn over ideas.

As Hermione turned back around, her parent's handed her her owl and trunk, before she waved good-bye to them and walked with Hasan to the Hogwarts Express.

"You've got an owl." Hasan observed, nodding to the gray and white feathered creature.

Hermione nodded eagerly. She had actually gotten in the owl in hopes of being more like Hasan, and having something they might share. "I named him Caelus. After the sky god, you know?"

The two clambered aboard, and quickly found an empty compartment near the back of the train. Hasan put his trunk on the floor and Raven beside him. Hermione watched him and then did much the same. Just as the train began to move, blowing a cloud of steam with a high-pitched whistle, their compartment door slid open rather suddenly, revealing a pale, red-headed boy with freckles dotting his nose.

"Er, hi." the newcomer said, letting himself inside and plopping his things down before glancing up wearily. "Um, everywhere else is full." he said rather lamely. "Do you mind?"

Hermione glanced at Hasan before nodding her assent. The thing about Hermione was that she desperately wished for friends, approval, or praise in general. This didn't make her a bad person or a weak person, but it did make her agree rather easily to things she obviously wouldn't have been too sure of agreeing to otherwise. For instance, this boy's manners clearly startled her (offense was too strong a word for the first encounter), but she wanted to make as many friends as possible, whether that meant having this new boy's acceptance, or Hasan's approval.

"Hi, I'm Ron, Ron Weasley." the freckled boy said quietly, settling awkwardly next to Hasan. He kept about a foot of space between them, his hands fidgeting as he looked at them both.

Weasley...Hasan vaguely remembered Altair saying that the Weasley's were what some considered blood-traitors. Altair didn't believe in such inane drivel as blood prejudices, and had even began a study on why blood had no effect on one's magical output.

"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione introduced herself quickly. "And that's Hasan Castell."

"Hello." Hasan said kindly, shaking the Weasley boy's hand. "That was close. Did you get here late?"

Ron's pallor suddenly flushed a brilliant tomato red. "Um, I came on time, but I was just looking for someone."

"Really, who?" Hermione asked with interest. Ron fidgeted some more before cracking.

"Harry Potter." Ron admitted with some reluctance.

"Why? Surely you know that he's been training in the mountains! It was in the Daily Prophet this morning!"

Wait, mountains? Hasan thought dubiously.

"Yeah, that's what the fifth compartment I checked told me." Ron said. "Knew I shouldn't have trusted Fred and George." he muttered. Hasan assumed that these were just two of his brothers, the twins if he remembered correctly.

"It's odd, I know. All through August the aurors were searching Diagon Alley over for Harry Potter. It seemed they were trying to keep his location under wraps from the Ministry, whoever sent him for training that is." Hermione said thoughtfully.

Just then a tiny squeak could be heard from Ron's robe pocket. A tiny brown nose peaked out, and then a little rodent head.

"You have a rat...as a pet?" Hermione stated, looking between the rat and Ron alternatively.

"His name's Scabbers, got him from Percy." Ron said proudly, taking the rodent in his hand. It's nose swiveled back and forth in the air, as if dancing before looking back at Ron.

Hasan couldn't quite place it, but it seemed as if the rat had been listening. As if it were intelligent, as strange as that seemed. Then again, he was riding on the Hogwarts Express to a magical school, so what did he know anymore?

"Hey, want to hear a spell?" Ron asked, which immediately caused Hermione to rave at top speed about everything she had done and knew and learned for Hogwarts. Hasan had zoned out during this time, a time long enough for the sweets' trolley to visit them (then pass on as Ron had a squished sandwich and Hermione was talking and Hasan didn't care), until Hermione had gone silent, letting Ron actually start the spell.

"Sunshine daisies-" Hermione's frowned dubiously as she debated whether to tell him that it wasn't a spell. She wanted to be polite, but she just knew things about spells, and that certainly was not a spell, "-Butter mellow!-"

Luckily, she needn't have worried so much over it, for the compartment door slid open at that precise moment. Hasan picked his head up at this, finally something to break the boredom, and his eyes brightened considerably when he saw the familiar face of Draco Malfoy, and two boys who looked more like bodyguards than friends, on either side of him.

"You call that a spell?" Draco sneered, glancing at Ron's wand hovering over the rat with distaste. "And what is that? A rat? How fitting: hand-me-down robes, red hair and freckles. You must be a Weasley."

"Go away, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, though he quickly stowed his wand and rat away.

"No, you see, I actually want to talk to someone here."

"Who?" Ron asked challengingly, raising an eyebrow in such an amateur way that Hasan fought hard not to roll his eyes. At least Hermione had more brains. She looked to Hasan with curious eyes, wondering if this new boy was a friend or a foe.

"Hello, Hasan. I'm sorry we couldn't find you before now, but don't worry. We have room for you in our compartment."

"Who says he wants to leave with you?" Ron said, force wavering just a bit.

"Who wouldn't?" Draco then swept his eyes over Hermione and landed on Hasan. "You'll soon find that some witches and wizards are better than others." His eyes lingered on Weasley as he said 'others'. "Come on, I can't stand to be in a Weasel's presence any longer."

Hasan glanced at Draco's offered hand of friendship and resolved to start his plan.

"Of course." Hasan said evenly, somewhat amused as Ron gaped at him, while he grabbed his trunk and owl. Hermione was staring at him sadly, not sure what to do anymore. "If only there's one more spot for an extremely intelligent witch." Hasan knew he was laying it on thick, and that Ron was on the verge of a heart attack, but Hermione seemed too intelligent (and too dependent) to let go. Hasan knew this witch had potential, and it all started with friendliness at the beginning to gain a powerful ally in the future.

Draco didn't need to think twice, he only really wanted Hasan anyway. So what if he brought a friend along? He didn't even ask if she was pureblood in his happiness.

"Whatever you wish."*

Hermione's face lit up at not being forgotten, but then she looked at Ron and frowned as her guilt took over. She didn't want to be a hypocrite and abandon Ron, but then...Hasan smiled at her, and she remembered how nice the boy had been the other day. And Ron had been incredibly rude by barging into their compartment. Really, Ron didn't belong with them anyway. But even as she followed Hasan out of the compartment, guilt was flooding her heart.

.oOo.

Ron was gaping. What the bloody hell had just happened? He had thought he had friends, or, er acquaintances at least. Leave it to Malfoy to take everything away from him just because his family was a bunch of blood-traitors. Ron didn't fully understand the prejudice, but he knew it was wrong. So why did they follow him? Why Malfoy of all people? (Not that he knew Draco at all). Perhaps he had been too assertive coming into their compartment. Maybe obnoxious even? Ron frowned as he began to wonder: Well why wouldn't they go with Malfoy? At that moment, he decided on his own to be more courteous. Maybe if he had, they wouldn't have left quite so quickly...He unwrapped his squished turkey sandwich and ate sadly before a boy poked his head in and asked about his toad...

.oOo.

Meanwhile, Draco had sent his goons (introduced at Crabbe and Goyle) up ahead, so that he might get to chat with the two first.

"I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly." Draco said superciliously. "Draco Malfoy." He held his hand out for Hermione to shake, who did so carefully.

"Hermione Granger." she said quietly. Her eager attitude was somewhat dampened by her guilt, but in reality, Hasan much preferred this less hyper version. Malfoy brought her small hand up to kiss delicately, thinking he might as well do the whole nine yards.

"Granger...I'm afraid I haven't heard that name before." Draco turned his silver eyes to Hasan. "Is she a relative?"

"A muggleborn." Hasan said blandly, watching as Draco struggled for an inkling of what to do. Holy hell, he had just kissed, not just touched and talked to, but kissed a mudblood!

"A mudblood?" Draco echoed, unable to stop himself. Apparently, he was unable to stop the derogatory tone in which he said it, because Hermione was suddenly very nervous. Perhaps she should have stayed with Ron...She played with her fingers and wet her lips unconsciously.

Hasan knew how offensive 'mudblood' was, yet he didn't appear to be too concerned. It was the same thing with Voldemort, he reasoned. Words made people react a certain way, but words were entirely separated from the emotion. It was like dominoes, a game he played at the orphanage a lot when it rained. He supposed his 'heartlessness' was just another thing to mark him as weird.

"What's a mudblood?" Hermione whispered to Hasan, her curiosity outlasting her instinctual offense.

"Mudblood is a word only the filth of the Wizarding World use, Hermione. Don't be too upset that Draco's not a thesaurus."

Filth? Filth! Malfoy's were many things but certainly not the scum of the Magical community! That lay with the mudbloods and the blood-traitors. Why? Well, he wasn't entirely sure. Still, he was angry, and while angry, he reminded himself he needed desperately to know Hasan...to please his dad. Actually, pleasing his dad would have been the answer to the former question. His next question: What on earth was a thesaurus? But he knew he had to appease Hasan somehow, so he quickly stuck a remorseful mask on his face and told Hermione in the nicest of terms:

"It's just a word, Hermione. I shouldn't have used it."

So, not a direct apology, but it was as close as anyone was bound to get! Besides, Hermione seemed to take his...explanation at face value.

"Oh, erm. That's okay?"

He turned to Hasan who was eyeing him speculatively.

"I never meant to insinuate you were filth, Malfoy. I simply stated a fact." Hasan observed tonelessly.

It was then that Malfoy had that bitter experience of half-satisfation and half-indignation that came from a half-assed apology. He then realized with a jolt that that was exactly what he had done to Hermione, but Malfoy's were Malfoy's, he wasn't about to apologize again. Still, it peeved him that Hasan was able to create these emotions in him, but when he looked up Hasan wasn't smug or complacent, he was just there. There existing and stating facts- just like he had said.

"Well, the compartment's this way," Draco said, leading them further down to a room on the left. Hasan followed, rather bored, but Hermione was a bundle of nerves. Draco slid open the door, ushered them inside to be met with,-

"Dray, who're they?" a pug-faced girl asked with obvious disgust.

"My friends." Draco stated, shooting the girl a glare that basically dared her to make another noise. "This is Hermione Granger-" Draco started with her first in order to get the whole blood thing out of the way. Predictably, Blaise Zabini, a black boy with catlike eyes, quirked an eyebrow at her name.

"Draco, she's not a pureblood. Why'd you bring her here?" All the pureblood families were related in some way, and Granger was certainly not on that list.

Draco fixed him with an icy Malfoy stare that made him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Blood has no effect on the mind, and Hermione despite her birth, clearly has a brilliant mind." Draco emphasized her first name to indicate his approval and familiarity with her. Even if the others didn't like it, Draco was still the boss, and exceptions were quite common.

Hasan's jade eyes widened imperceptibly since he knew Malfoy was totally winging this. But why was he going out on a limb? Why not turn the girl out and say it was a mistake? Perhaps Malfoy really was desperate to spy on him through gaining his favor...or maybe Draco was just so impressionable he was changing.

Some of the other members of the group were also quite surprised at this. Pug-face was still licking her wounds by frowning at the ground, and Blaise appeared rather confused. Crabbe and Goyle didn't appear to be paying any attention, while the other two, a quiet boy with light brown hair and a strong jaw, and a seemingly gentle girl with soft blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair, were listening patiently.

"And him?" blue-eyes urged him along, while at the same time giving Hasan's long brown braid a curious glance.

"Hasan. We met at Diagon yesterday." Draco said, before sitting beside pug-face and indicating for Hasan to sit on the other side of him, next to the door. Hermione seemed lost for a moment as Hasan and Draco left her standing alone, before the blue-eyed girl offered the space beside her.

"What's his last name?" Blaise asked, seemingly under a compulsion charm to know everyone's blood status through their last name.

"I-" Draco paused and then frowned. He didn't want to be seen as an idiot, so more for self-defense than common courtesy he said, "Hasan is here you know. You can ask him."

The other occupants of the compartment turned expectantly to the jade-eyed boy. Hasan knew that out of all of Hogwarts, these kids would immediately know what his last name meant. Then again, if Altair had really wanted secrecy, he would've changed Hasan's last name so that the envelope would be addressed to someone else. (Come to think of it, Hasan didn't know how the letters were addressed.) Or better yet, send him to Beauxbatons.

So having happily deduced there was no harm in telling these kids what would soon become common knowledge, he elucidated their oh-so-pressing curiosity.

"Hasan Castell."

---

Author note

This is something I think Lucius would say, and since Draco emulates his father in the earlier books, I think it's fine if Draco says "As you wish."

I'm really sorry if Hermione seems OOC for a bit, but I think that since we get to hear her thoughts in this and not in the books, it changes the impression she makes. Also, she knows Hasan from Diagon Alley, and we can assume her mother was pumping her up with "Friend" garbage. This adds a whole other layer to how she views Hasan. No longer is she just independently making friends, now she has listened to her mother saying that this boy wants to be friends, and that can have a big effect on her confidence.

I think Ron's a pretty decent guy when he's not blinded by envy, so there's not going to be too much Ron-bashing! (Yet...) Rest assured he will not be a main character.

As for Draco, he's pretty impressionable at a young age. Lucius basically brainwashed him, for we find out later Draco isn't half bad. He's not going to make a miraculous turnaround. But initially, he might do things or tolerate things just to get on Hasan's good side.

Hopefully the OOCness will be gone when they grow up some. Really sorry if it bothers some of you! However, I'm trying to keep many of the Slytherins in character, and that means Blaise is extremely prejudice about blood status, and Theo is a bit of a loner. I like Tracey and Daphne though because they are hardly even mentioned in the books!

A/N- Someone mentioned that Hasan didn't need to undergo some ritual to change his appearance. But let me remind you, this is Harry Potter, master of exceptions! His looks are much more powerful than a simple glamor, so no one would detect it...unless they're Ollivander...I don't know how Ollivander knows all of this stuff, but in this fanfiction he does!

Also, Altair didn't exactly legally adopt Hasan. The manila folder was a farce, and Altair made sure to destroy all other legal documents. (Let's just say he set things on fire at the orphanage before reading them first, because he does NOT know who Hasan really is.)