Chapter 6: Dumbledore's Predicament

"Hermione, I'm telling you! That dog was guarding a door!" Ron insisted. He had just arrived at the Gryffindor table, and was already begging for Hermione's curiosity to outweigh her morals.

"That's no excuse for a detention, Ronald! Professor Dumbledore said not to go anywhere near the third floor corridor, let alone go into the locked room! You're lucky Filch only caught you as you were heading out!" Hermione whispered harshly with a cold glare. She knew that Ron had been fooling around the forbidden corridor the other day, probably so he could appear cool in front of all his friends (cough, Neville, cough). So it was quite natural when he landed himself a detention...with Draco (Ron's nemesis), out into the forbidden forest. Well, see if she was going to be a sympathetic pair of ears! The prat deserved it.

"Oh come on, Hermione," Ron whined, "what could a three-headed dog have been guarding?"

"I don't know! Stop thinking about it!" Hermione snapped angrily, slamming down her fork.

"Hey guys." Neville shuffled in, seating himself across from Ron. "What are you talking about?"

Neville was still extremely awkward, but had managed to warm up to the two bickering Gryffindors. Sometimes he fancied he was the only bridge between the two, or that he was just a buffer to stop them from eating each other's heads off.

"Ron got a detention with Draco." Hermione hissed.

"Oh. That seems scary." Neville said. "What for?"

"Snooping around where he didn't belong-" "Finding a dog guarding a trapdoor-" The two said at the same time.

"That's cool..." said Neville carefully, not having heard anything, "So what's it guarding?"

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh, "Honestly, Neville! He wasn't supposed to be there in the first place!"

Neville shuffled his feet beneath the table before sipping his pumpkin juice.

"Aw, don't be too hard on him, Hermione." Ron whined. Hermione silenced him with a glare, and made to get up. It was only the last week of September, honestly! How had he managed to get a detention this early on? Boys and their recklessness...

She wasn't even sure how Neville and he had become friends unless they had bonded when they were both stuck in the Hospital Wing, bored as Hell. So really, they were only together because of their foolishness during their first broom lessen! How sad. With a frustrated huff, she strode to the library, ready to take her mind off Ron with a bit of studying.

.oOo.

(Near Midnight.)

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a bit of a problem on his hands. First and foremost: Harry Potter. It wasn't that he was only a manipulative old codger, but he was a sad old man that felt he had lost his prized possession. But that didn't necessarily mean Albus did not care for the boy. No, in fact, ever since...well, ever since Ariana, Albus had been desperate for ways to atone. He had never had children, yet he felt as if he had lost one.

But he could hardly go face the Wizarding World and say "I've lost your savior. Forgive me, I believed love was stronger than this." No. Severus' plan was in use at the current time: pretend the boy was off training in the mountains...but search parties had already gone and failed, and people were getting worried. The thing about people was that they needed to know everything was going to be alright.

You see, Albus did have another solution. He alone knew the full prophecy and it could have referred to two boys. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. Scrying didn't help. The tracking charm was absolutely dead...so what else could he do? Albus had been paying very close attention indeed to Mr. Longbottom. So far, the boy had managed to receive a broken wrist from failing to heed basic instructions. He was abysmal in potions. Was compared to a squib in Transfiguration.

But the boy had a knack for Herbology! Thank Merlin! There were such things are poisonous plants! Neville Longbottom could save the world after all! (But if Albus was honest with himself, he doubted that Tom Riddle would disappear after taking a whiff of some fatal flower.) Yes, Dumbledore would have to raise him, shape him up, and train the boy to be his- he meant- the world's savior. It also helped that the Weasley boy had shown a liking for him, for the Weasley's were some of his top supporters! The plan seemed perfect: Weasley's, Prophecy, desperate for attention...and Gryffindor.

Could he imagine a Slytherin being the Boy-Who-Lived?

Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth and chuckled. In a few hours he would call the others up and tell them of his ingenious plan...

"Albus, you can't possibly do a bait and switch!" Poppy cried. "You'll get the poor boy's hopes up!"

"Poppy, I see no other alternative!"

"Perhaps actually looking for the Potter boy would be below us?" Snape leered icily.

"I agree with Severus!" Minerva called, much to Snape's irritation. "He's still out there! I'm not about to fail that boy a second time!"

Currently, the same crew of Severus, Minerva, Poppy, and Pomona were huddled in the headmaster's office, a mere quarter of an hour before their first classes of the year. Dumbledore didn't beat around the bush as much as he simply set it on fire.

"Minerva, I am truly sorry I didn't listen to you, before, but right now, the Wizarding World needs a face of the Light!" he insisted.

"You-Know-Who is dead!" Poppy yelled.

"If only." Snape muttered to himself.

"Well, the boy does show a great affinity for Herbology." Pomona ventured.

"Are we talking about the same Longbottom?" Snape thundered. "I don't believe he has an affinity for anything but getting himself and others injured!"

"I agree, the boy means well, but he can't keep up with the rest of the class. I've had to tutor him three times already and he's still behind." Minerva sighed. "I wish the solution were as easy as this, but the boy's comparable to a squib. His grandmother practically begged me to show her the Hogwarts book to prove he had some magic in him! Imagine, if we let the world believe one thing, Augusta Longbottom will be higher than the moon. It's simply not right, Albus. It's a farce and you're playing with his life!"

"It's also a ploy for time." Severus said. "Which would actually matter if we looked for the damn boy."

"Alright, Severus, you've made your point. We'll resume searching sometime this summer." Albus said wearily.

"You don't actually the think the boy can be found, do you?" Poppy asked. "The chances of a boy, abandoned at that age still being alive are extremely slim!"

"He's managed to survive the killing curse." Albus pointed out.

"Yes, because of love and blood protection!" Snape sneered, "Which, Minerva has already pointed out, is not functioning! We can't wait until the summer, Albus!"

"Well, what would you have me do? We need Mr. Longbottom to believe he is the chosen one so that everyone else does too. We can't have our people searching on the side because that would upset the whole-"

"Illusion!" Minerva screeched. "Merlin, Albus! Just think about the boy for once! Don't let him believe that he's the Boy-Who-Lived. Tell him he needs to play a part! Don't make him believe!"

"I can hardly control what he believes." Dumbledore said defiantly. "But I'll try my best to make sure it doesn't go to his head too fast."

"Albus!"

"Fine! I'll tell him exactly what his part is! Satisfied?"

Minerva nodded stiffly.

.oOo.

Neville Longbottom was never much of anything. He was shy, awkward, barely magical, and injured himself fairly often. He was behind in most if not all of his classes, which was saying something as it was only October, and he had managed, somehow, to make enemies of at least ten people in his year alone.

Even his toad ran away from him.

So it was with great trepidation that Neville walked to the headmaster's office now.

"Cockroach clusters." he said shakily and the gargoyle slid away from the staircase. It took nearly as much strength to climb the fifty stairs as it did to raise his arm and knock.

"Enter!"

The door opened silently, revealing a trembling Neville in its wake. Albus was situated in a high-backed chair behind his rather large desk, and he indicated for him to sit with a gracious wave of his hand.

"H-hello Pr-fessor Dumbledore."

"Good morning, Neville."

Neville? When had the headmaster, or any teacher for that matter, start calling him 'Neville'?

"Er..."

"Come, sit, sit down! Lemon drop?" Albus asked, proffering a little blue bowl.

"Um, no thanks."

Neville fidgeted in his chair, worried to the point of sickness. Why was he here? Had he done something wrong? Had one of the kids complained about him? Did someone frame him?

"All well." Albus gave himself a candy and folded his hands on the desk. "Neville, I'm truly sorry I haven't gotten to speak with you before." Albus said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "But we've been so busy looking for the Boy-Who-Lived..." he paused here and gazed at Neville pointedly.

"Oh, er, yeah, I've read the Daily Prophet and all." Neville mumbled, completely confused. Where was the headmaster going with this? Was it small talk? Did the headmaster meet with all of his students? Even so, Neville felt dejected: People were out searching for the Boy-Who-Lived, millions caring for this one boy, while he, Neville, was largely ignored, and despised for being clumsy, inadequate, forgetful, accident prone..."Er, sir, why am I here?" he ventured when all Albus did was smile fondly through his half-moon spectacles. He wasn't that close with the headmaster, let alone with anyone, and it was getting all a bit too awkward for him.

"I'm glad you asked Neville, my boy. The Daily Prophet is a lie."

"What-?"

"The Boy-Who-Lived is gone for good. He's not out training in the mountains or wherever they say he's training now. He's been missing since July, when we first sent his Hogwarts letter."

"But, um, why are you telling me this...sir?"

"Call me 'Albus'," Albus said pleasantly. Gaining trust started with names, and he was going to need a lot of trust to pull this off. Neville looked at him oddly, torn between disbelief and confusion. He wanted recognition so badly, but this was all too suspicious.

"Er-"

"Yes, as I was saying, Harry Potter is gone. There is little hope of ever finding him and that's assuming he isn't already dead."- Neville gulped-"But do you know why he was targeted as a baby? Why he was dubbed the World's savior?"

Neville shook his head.

"Because of a prophecy."

"A prophecy?" Neville echoed.

"Yes. It foretold of a boy born as the seventh month dies..." He waited as he watched the gears turn in the boy's face. "You, my boy, were the second child the prophecy referred to."

"B-but I can't save a thing! Even my toad ran away from me! People tease me! I-I don't have much magic!"

"No, Neville, my boy." Albus face darkened as grief flooded through his voice. "That is where you come in. You were not 'marked as his equal' as the prophecy goes, but you will be able to represent the Light. Step up and fill in, giving hope as the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"B-but I'm not." Neville stammered.

"No...no, you're not. But the world needs a savior, Neville. They need a face."

So he just wants to use me. He doesn't care. He's just using you. They're all just using you. It's all a big practical joke, comparing you to a deity and hailed as a dead man when you're just really plain old Neville Longbottom...

"So I'm just a replacement?" Neville whispered hoarsely.

Albus frowned, the boy wasn't supposed to act like this! He was supposed to be happy! Proud even at the chance to be the Boy-Who-Lived.

"No, Neville, my boy. You will be named the Boy-Who-Lived. The prophecy has no bearings anymore with Harry Potter gone. People are going to look to you for advice! Why your grandmother was over the moon when we told her!"

Neville blanched.

"You told my grandmother!"

"Yes, and she was honored to be able to say her own grandson is the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"But I'm not!" Neville protested weakly.

"We'll give you some time to adjust yourself to it, but just think: wouldn't your parents be so proud if their son was the one to destroy Voldemort once and for all?"

"I wouldn't know, would I?" Neville said blankly, and asked to be excused.

.oOo.

Halloween was finally upon them, and the Great Hall had been adorned with orange and black streamers, and many animated bats that flew past on unsuspecting students.

Hasan couldn't believe it- it seemed like just yesterday he was heading off to Hogwarts and now, they were two months into the semester! Hasan, himself, was doing fairly well in all his classes. Altair's vigorous preparation had a hand in it, as did Professor McGonagall's offer to teach him privately after class. He wasn't entirely sure why the professor had warmed up to him, but he knew he liked her, and so took her up on it. Most of the spells Hasan already knew, but then the Transfiguration's teacher mentioned something in passing that caught Hasan's interest: Animagi.

When he asked about it, she had told him it was near impossible to become an Animagis at his age- that it required great skill, power, and a whole lot of paperwork. But Hasan still remembered that first class, when she had changed from a tabby cat to witch in a fluid movement, eliciting oohs and ahhs from the crowd. Now that he knew the name of it, however, he simply mentioned it to Hermione whom had researched it herself out of pure curiosity. She intended to give him a briefing on it tomorrow.

Speaking of Gryffindors, Neville Longbottom's reputation preceded him. Brainless, forgetful, clumsy, awkward, squib...toad lover. He seemed nervous even around his fellow Gryffindors, though he had gotten considerably closer to Ron after their joint recovery in the Hospital Wing. Still, he was clearly marked as an oddball and kids teased him whenever they could. Draco didn't for fear of offending Hasan (again), but Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and even some members of his own house, (embarrassed at his ability to nearly empty the Gryffindor hourglass every time he stepped into the Potion's Classroom), were more than enough, sending him notes or whispering his name down the table or in the classroom, just to annoy him. It was incredible really, how most of the teachers seemed oblivious to this. Even McGonagall with her kindness towards Hasan, a Slytherin, didn't have an inkling of how bad it was. (For clearly they knew something was going on.)

In fact, Hasan was nearly sure he had seen Neville running past, tears flying off his face, to the girl's bathroom...

Hasan only remembered it because he had had a conversation with himself before. It went something like:

Why the girl's bathroom?

Because it's abandoned.

Why is it abandoned?

...Moaning Myrtle.

All the girls quickly learned that if they needed to go, they'd better find the stairs quick! So Hasan just shrugged and moved on with his life, never knowing that the next few seconds would make this fact very important indeed.

.oOo.

The doors sprung open as a deranged Quirrell fell through it. His amethyst turban was on slightly messier than usual, and on his face was a palpable sheen of sweat. At the staff table, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had already jumped to their feet.

"TROLL! TROLL IN THE HALL! TROLL ON THE LOOSE!"

"Troll?"

"What?"

"Fuck!"

The students began to chat loudly as the three teachers, plus Poppy, bustled over to the DADA professor. They helped him up before Poppy led him away.

"A troll!" Draco exclaimed. "Those things are massive! How could one of them get in here?"

"It was let in." Hasan said simply, ignoring the gasps around him. Trolls were notorious for being violent and stupid- an altogether troublesome combination. Whoever had willingly let a troll loose in the school was most definitely trying to cause some real destruction...or distraction.

"Maybe it was a prank?" Millie asked hopefully, but her thick brows worried dreadfully, belying her fear.

"As long as we're all here in the Hall," Tracey consoled her, "we'll be safe. See, Professor Snape is taking care of it." Indeed, the three teachers had just left the Hall in search of the beast. Yet Hasan had a decidedly bad feeling about this. What if someone who didn't know about the troll was still outside the hall? Wait, Neville! Hasan immediately sought out the awkward Gryffindor, but where he should have been sitting, a panicking Hermione was in his place. Suddenly, her brown eyes snapped to his, and Hasan gave a terse nod. He watched as the lioness murmured some excuse to Ron, before walking discreetly over to him. She visited so often that no one thought twice about it.

"Neville!" Hermione whispered desperately as soon as she was next to Hasan. "He was crying earlier! Oh! He's still out there!"

Most of the Slytherins ignored her, since she was, oddly enough, a regular at the table, but Draco Malfoy was not among them.

"You think the troll-?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded vigorously. "Oh this is bad, even if it is Longbottom."

Hasan nodded. "I know where he is. We need to be quick though."

"You're going?" Draco repeated dubiously. "This is a TROLL."

"Yes, so are you coming or not?" Hasan asked curiously as he extracted himself from the bench. It seemed he didn't even process Draco's reluctance, but really, Hasan just chose to ignore it. Hermione looked at Draco with wide, innocent eyes.

"Yes, alright." Draco agreed stiffly, and followed the two out of the room. Damn Granger and her pretty eyes.

"Wait! We're headed towards Moaning Myrtle's loo!" Hermione exclaimed as they raced down the hall to the distant sounds of thudding.

"Yes, and abandoned too. I must say Neville does know how to use to his resources." Draco drawled, hoping his inadvertent compliment would make Hasan feel more comfortable. But all he said was.-

"About time you figured that out." with that damning indifference! Uh! It infuriated Draco to no end- but wait...did he want Hasan's praise? Well wasn't that just the silliest thing you've ever heard! A Malfoy needing approval, from a half-blood no less! Ha!

But his laugh sounded hollow in his own mind.

As they reached the bathroom, the strong stench of Troll filled their noses.

"That's vile!" Hermione cried, whipping out her wand. She performed a quick bubblehead charm on the three of them (something she read about in her Animagi exploration as an alternative to breathing underwater,) much to Hasan and Draco's appreciation.

"Merlin, Hermione, what would we do without you?" Hasan joked.

Intrigued by the new voice, the Troll clambered around to face them, giving the trio a perfect view of its being. It was huge, with yellow nails, crooked teeth, two beady eyes, and a menacing looking club.

"Delightful." Draco sneered.

"Yeah, a real beauty." Hasan muttered, hand clenching around his wand.

"H-hermione? I-is that you?" Neville's trembling voice came from behind a locked stall that's door was badly dented.

"Yes, Hermione's here with Draco and I," Hasan told him. "Don't worry, this'll be over in a moment." The Troll raised its club in challenge, the three began the fight with relish.

"Stupefy!" Hermione yelled.

"Rictumsempra!" Hasan cried. The stunner hit the Troll squarely in the face, but it recovered a second later only to be hit with Hasan's tickling curse. The poor oaf twitched as its nerves were attacked cruelly, banging into more stalls, smashing a mirror, and putting holes in the ground.

"Locomotor Mortis!" Draco screamed, and the trolls legs instantly snapped shut as the tickling curse wore off.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he quickly amended when the troll began to beat the ground with his fists, sending panels of tile everywhere.

Hermione looked between the two, impressed but also worried. They had basically destroyed the bathroom (that no one used anyway)!

Hasan was also surprised at Malfoy's quick thinking, but not of the spell since he knew that the boy had a private tutor. The tickling curse probably did more harm than good, in hindsight, but Hasan was glad that someone was there to watch his back when he made mistakes. He grinned over at Draco, who had regained his smug composure, just when the troll lifted its heavy self from the floor. It didn't appear extremely damaged, just tired and absolutely furious. It released a deafening roar, sending Neville into a fit of whimpers, and unfortunately, attracting the troll's attention. Stupid yes, but strong enough to pull the stall door off its hinges to reveal a badly shaking Neville Longbottom. Tear tracks wear clear on his red face, his eyes darting to meet Hasan's, and then something changed. He stood up firmly, grabbed his wand, and opened his mouth as the troll's club descended.

"PROTEGO!" four voices shouted in unison as the massive beast was blasted off its disgusting feet, and into the far wall with a sickening crack. There was a slowly trickling wound from its head, the club fell between its numb fingers.

The kids stared at each other, then at the troll, and then at the desecrated bathroom in horror. Even Myrtle poked her head out of the toilet, just to release a low moan and dive back in. Neville gingerly exited the stall, wiping the tears from his face as he did so, and offered a tentative smile to his saviors.

And then they heard a clap from the doorway.

.oOo.

"That was quite a feat." Dumbledore applauded with a twinkle in his light blue eyes. "Not many first years could have taken on a mountain troll and won!"

Yet his colleagues didn't seem to share this view. Severus looked downright furious as did Minerva as they glared daggers at the destructed bathroom.

"Oh my goodness!" Minerva breathed. Her eyes travelled across the room, from the troll, to the destruction, and then to the children in awe. "What are you four not doing at the Halloween feast?"

Hasan felt Hermione stiffen beside him and knew that Neville was most likely making himself as inconspicuous as possible. Draco however wasn't cowed and stood defiantly with Hasan, arms crossed in front of his chest, as if to say, 'Well what the bloody hell was the troll doing in Hogwarts?'

"Hello Professor McGonagall." Hasan said politely, stowing his wand nonchalantly in his robe pocket. "Isn't the smell awful?"

"Simply dreadful." Draco muttered.

"Well?" Minerva demanded, casting an air freshening charm, much to everyone's relief.

"I'd like to know as well, why two of my snakes ended up in the girl's bathroom." Snape hissed.

Hasan thought rapidly. Was it wrong of them to go after Neville? Technically, there was no wrong. Could it be that the teachers were simply protective of their charges? He studied their faces: Minerva's was chalky white, Severus' was angry, and Albus Dumbledore...he had that glint in his eye that Hasan didn't quite like. What did Dumbledore know that Hasan didn't?

"Well you see, sir." Draco said, "We knew there was a troll on the loose and Hasan noticed that Longbottom wasn't in his seat."

"And you deduced that Neville was in need of a little aid? Bravo!" Dumbledore cried, clapping his hands again. He was a little disappointed not to see Ron Weasley among them, for he desperately wished for Neville to associate with the family, but he supposed that the muggleborn, Granger- Hermione (he thought her name was)- would have to do. He wondered how the miniature Lucius was involved, but figured that the other Slytherin came because of Hermione. Merlin knew how often the bushy-haired witch was seen talking to the boy!

"Albus, this is hardly time to be congratulating-" Snape started.

"Well why not? The Boy-Who-Lived has finally shown his true colors and has returned to save the school from a grave danger!"

Hasan bit his lip, the Boy-Who-Lived? Albus couldn't possibly- but then it made sense, the twinkle in his eyes, the glee... he heard Neville stifle a gasp as the headmaster's gaze rested on him, all the way in the back corner.

"No need to be modest, Neville!" Albus cried. "It's okay to admit you went looking for a troll and had friends to support you."

Oh, dear. The headmaster really was desperate wasn't he? Hasan thought.

Hasan turned to watch Neville fully now, and it was clear that Neville wanted nothing more than to fall through the floor and quickly disintegrate. His eyes darted from Hermione, to Draco, to Hasan's, before quickly landing on the floor by his feet. Neville truly wished he could call these people his friends, but there was an unmistakable influence on his thoughts. The headmaster was guiding towards this way of thinking, and he knew he couldn't let it get ahold of him. These people, these wonderful people, they were not friends! They were just good people who went to help a pathetic boy...

"Albus!" Minerva snapped, glaring candidly at the headmaster. This succeeded in capturing Hasan's interest.

"It is alright, Minerva." Albus said, "These children, these friends of Neville's deserve to know." The first part seemed to appease the Transfigurations' teacher, and surprisingly the Potions Master. The second part, made Minerva want to slap his face off. "Yes, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Castell, this boy, this wonderful friend, is the Boy-Who-Lived."

Hermione's eyes became saucers as Draco gaped openly in a decidedly unMalfoylike fashion.

"Neville?" Hermione asked hopefully, "Really? You're Harry Potter?"

Albus cleared his throat. "Erm, no, but he is the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter is actually just a regular homeschooled wizard. The press made a mistake."

Severus coughed loudly at this and Hermione looked as if she wanted to question the headmaster, but then thought better of it. Dumbledore was such a powerful wizard, he must know, right? He must be able to sense the sheer power radiating off of Neville Longbottom? Hermione fought the urge not to frown and demand to know what the hell was the truth. No offense to Neville or anything but,... Neville was currently backing up into the corner, arms wrapped protectively around himself. His eyes darted to Hasan for he seemed to be the only one not reacting, in a plea of 'help me please!'

"Then how come they wrote all those books on him?" Draco demanded, watching with suspicion as Severus' lips quirked up.

"Ah, yes. That was for Mr. Longbottom's protection." Albus lied easily. "Now I think for this miraculous accomplishment, 20 points each for Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Castell, and Miss Granger, and 30 points for Mr. Longbottom for a great service to our school."

"Hey that's-!" Draco protested. The other two teachers looked about ready to shout the same thing too, but Albus silenced them with a shake of his head.

"Neville's heroics must be recognized! He was the first one here, was he not?"

Damn him.

"Of course he was, sir." Hasan piped up to the incredulity of the rest of the room. His dull green eyes hit the headmaster head on, and he fancied he could see the man pause for just one second. "He was in here because-"

"I knew I could defeat the troll!" Neville shouted harshly. He hated himself for saying it, for playing into Dumbledore's machinations, but he couldn't bear for the teachers, least of all Snape, to know the real reason he was in there.

"Excellent! Excellent!" Albus said with a slight chuckle. "Now how about you go back to the feast? I hear the apple pie is simply delicious..."

The four children scampered from the room, though Draco's was more of a haughty strut, leaving the teachers to work out their own pressing matters.

"3o points for Longbottom! Really?" Snape sneered. "If you noticed, he was the one cowering in the corner!"

"Yes, I agree that 30 is a bit excessive. It was teamwork, Albus. Do you think special treatment is really the best way to handle the boy? He's much more likely to avoid you if you continue down this path."

"But don't you see? We introduce him little by little to the life he'll lead. Today's a troll, the next it's Voldemort!"

Snape gasped, "Albus, you didn't-!"

"No, no," Albus shook his head sadly. But I wish I did. Perhaps in the Great Hall where everyone could have watched...

.oOo.

"Hasan?" Draco asked when he realized the long, brown-haired boy was no longer with him.

"Just be a minute." Hasan called, indicating for Draco and Hermione to go on. Draco looked like he was about to protest, but then Hermione nudged him in the arm and he nodded tersely.

Hasan watched as Hermione tugged him away (though he quickly snatched his sleeve back) before turning back and catching Neville as he was walking towards Gryffindor Tower alone.

"Hey, Neville! Wait." Hasan shouted, striding over to the boy with long steps.

"Oh, not you too." Neville mumbled.

"What?"

"'Neville,' the headmaster just started calling me by my first name today. It's so uncomfortable. I wish he'd stop." Neville said in a whisper. "It's like he wants others to believe we're friends...wants me to believe we're friends. You probably don't understand..." Neville sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"He probably does." Hasan admitted to Neville's shock. "He wants something from you and needs your trust to make it happen. As for your name, would you rather I call you Longbottom?"

"Er, no." Neville said. "Sorry about that. No you can keep using Neville."

"Thank you." Hasan said quietly. The two sat down right there on the floor, side by side with their kneecaps touching. "I understand the power of names, too. Names are our identity. To some extent they make us who we are."

"Then it's just lucky I've got stuck with Longbottom, eh?" Neville laughed bitterly.

"You can't choose your last name." Hasan admonished lightly. "That belongs to your parents."

The word 'parents' seemed to strike a nerve, for Neville curled his arms around even tighter.

"Oh."

"Hey, Neville?" Hasan asked softly. "If you could choose any name in the world, what would it be?"

"I-er. I'm not sure. It's not like I can legally change my name without a guardian's consent, and Gran is sure as Merlin not giving hers."

"I was just curious." Hasan sighed. So far he had learned four things about Neville Longbottom and his related predicament. 1) Albus was playing a dangerous game. No one wants to be used, or hoodwinked, and this was exactly what he was doing. 2) Neville didn't like it one bit. Not the title or the headmaster. 3) Neville was tight-lipped about his parents, both of them. 4) He lived with a rather stubborn, strict, or opinionated grandmother. (Hasan wasn't sure which it was, but Neville's tone seemed to imply she was a strong woman.)

"That's alright. Curiosity is fine." Neville said. "Do you think You-Know-Who is really gone?" Neville asked suddenly.

Hasan knew what Altair thought, but he had yet to make his own opinion.

"Why?" Hasan countered, avoiding the question.

"Because I'm in deep trouble if he's not. Gran seems to think he's still here though, been trying to train me since I was little...but you know me. I can hardly turn a matchstick into a needle." Neville laughed bitterly at himself before turning watery eyes to Hasan. "Bet you don't think I can defeat him either."

Hasan shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I haven't met the guy. But I believe, the Boy-Who-Lived or not, that you have all the power you'll need. Maybe not in combat, maybe in Herbology. Who knows."

"Wait...you know?" Neville asked, eyes seeming to take up his entire face. Hasan knew he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived?

"I don't know anything." Hasan said with a slight smile. "But you may have to brush up on your acting skills to get Dumbledore from leading you along."

"I'll keep that in mind." Neville grinned as Hasan got up and offered him a hand. "And...thanks, you know. For listening."

"No need to thank me." Hasan said with a mock bow.

But only because I can't shut my ears off.