Chapter 5: Sorting and Classes

"Hasan Castell."

As soon as the name left his lips, he was sure there would be much more commentary on blood this or family that. What he was not expecting were several blank looks, interspersed between confused glances.

"Castell...?" Blaise repeated quietly for the group, glancing at the faces of his Slytherin friends as if searching for clues. Finally, the little pundit seemed to have racked his brains through his entire library full of extensive pureblood knowledge, for he gave up and just decided to ask the damning question: "Are you pureblood?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" strong-jaw muttered, rolling his eyes much to Hasan's amusement. "Blood doesn't dictate everything!" With this, he met Hermione's eyes steadily, before biting his lip and looking hastily away. Tracey caught the glance and stifled a smirk behind her hand. The exchange captured Draco and Pansy's attention at least, which was good he supposed, because Hasan wasn't entirely sure what to say.

He knew he was Harry Potter, and though Altair had most helpfully kept away any knowledge of Harry Potter from him, Hasan had indeed figured out some things on his own. If Voldemort (he insisted on saying his name inside his head at least), was so obsessed over blood purity like Altair had told him, then the Potter's were probably not pureblood. The imperio would have taken care of opposition if they were, but if they were not, it wouldn't be worth the hassle. This left the options of half-blood and muggleborn, and Hasan was pretty sure his parents weren't muggles. (For this would ask the question: Why had Voldemort gone after those particular muggles? Why not massacre the lot?) In addition, Hasan was pretty sure Draco wouldn't appreciate defending yet another muggleborn.

"Half-blood." Hasan answered promptly, and then he realized he was an idiot: Altair Castell was a pureblood. Oh, if they just looked up the name! He thought rapidly and added, "I'm from France so we may have distant relatives in Britain under the same name?...Désolé, sorry."

He knew it was an unnecessary precaution, a bit of fine print that would probably cause even more suspicion (should they choose to pry), but now Hasan had a safety net: if they found out the Castell's were pureblood then they'd just think, but oh, Hasan's from France...Nothing like the prospect of international research to shake curious Slytherins from a search!

"Like Bulstrode." Pug-face cut in, "Not bad I suppose." she nodded reluctantly. Blaise still seemed putout, but otherwise didn't comment.

"I think it's only fair we know your names." Hasan said. Hermione nodded her agreement readily and Draco began roll-call.

"This is Pansy Parkinson." Draco said, indicating to Pug-face next to him. "That's Crabbe and Goyle, you have already met them, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott beside him (that was strong jaw) and finally Tracey Davis beside Hermione. We're such a large group that some of the girls had to go to the next room."

"And what group would that be?" Hermione asked, seeming to be more comfortable with asking questions with Tracey by her side, and Theo smiling from across.

"Well, we all expect to be sorted into Slytherin." Tracey informed her matter-of-factly. "It's, er, it's a house at Hogwarts."

Hermione flushed profusely, "I know, I read Hogwarts: A History."

"Wow, I haven't even cracked a book open yet." Theo said in admiration.

"Oh, well, I was excited." Hermione admitted, a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

"Of course you were-" Pansy muttered, just barely restraining herself from tacking on 'Mudblood' for fear of offending Draco.

The rest of the train ride passed much in the same fashion: Theo and Tracey being nice. Pansy trying to get Draco's attention, and Hasan watching everyone closely. By the end of the ride, Hermione felt she had made a new friend. Hasan, on the other hand, was busy entertaining Draco with petty questions like "What is your owl's name?...Why is that your owl's name?"

Draco was easy enough to keep occupied, his favorite subject was soon discovered: himself.

This was going to be much easier than he thought.

.oOo.

Hagrid watched as the last of them piled in the little boats. He tried suppressing a salty giant tear that was gathering in his eye, but it grew too heavy and dampened his large, wild beard. He was sure he would recognize Harry anywhere.

Those emerald eyes, Lily's eyes...they couldn't possibly remain hidden, nor ever be forgotten! The Daily Prophet had already come out with an article with Snape's proposed "Out-in-the-mountains" plan, and therefore the kids weren't as crazy about searching for the Boy-Who-Lived amongst their ranks. Yet he did catch a few that continually looked about them, that Longbottom boy for one, he seemed to be searching for something rather intently...all Hagrid could do was smile, hold back tears and announce to the next generation of students that Hogwarts would now, and forever, be their home and family.

.oOo.

A tall, stern looking witch in rich green robes and a pointed green witch's hat met them at the entrance of the Great Hall. Her name was Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and she had a very elegant air about her that Hasan immediately latched onto. As she explained to the first years the Opening Feast, the Sorting Ceremony they were soon to take part in, the house points, and the house cup, Hasan noticed her eyes rove over them keenly, yet half-heartedly, as if searching for something she knew to be gone. She nodded firmly before bursting open the double doors of the Great Hall...

Hermione stuck very close to Hasan, almost annoyingly so, who in turn was never more than three feet away from Draco (and certainly not from Hasan's doing). Nearby, Ron Weasley could be seen with a boy who introduced himself with "Hi, I'm Neville Longbottom. Have you seen my toad?" Ron sent a half-longing half-loathing glance their way before blinking, rather startled as a loud RRRRRIBBET! cut through the air.

Even Professor McGonagall looked startled for a moment before Neville cried,-

"TREVOR!" and tried desperately to catch the hopping toad. Most of the girls shrieked, and cringed back in terror, which in turn caused some of the occupants of the Great Hall, closest to the doors, to look outside in curiosity. Oh, those funny first years!

"Neville! Catch him!"

"He's over here! Eeeeek!"

"Neville!"

"Longbottom!"

By the time Neville had managed to grasp the poor toad with both of his hands, most of the Great Hall was talking about the strange boy named Neville and his funny toad named Trevor, making his cheeks flush form pink to scarlet. McGonagall sighed, giving Neville a sympathetic look with the words "Keep a good hold on him now," before leading the first years up the center of the hall, so that they could begin the Sorting.

Hasan gazed at the enchanted ceiling in awe, through the millions of floating candles, thinking how wonderful magic was. Apparently others did too as they goggled at it, and Professor McGonagall had to quickly inform them that it was enchanted to show the actual sky above Hogwarts before their chatter got too out of hand. As the kids came into view, whispers of Neville soon dissolved into gossip of the Boy-Who-Lived, and 'Did you see that Daily Prophet article?' 'Yeah, what a letdown.'

Despite knowing that the Wizarding World's savior was off fighting mountainous dragons and such, the rest of the school had more enthusiasm than ever in examining the fresh meat. Neville was easy to spot out as his face was still flushed, that and he was standing next to Ron Weasley with his flaming hair. It also didn't help that two kids in the crowd (Fred and George, Hasan's mind supplied) kept shouting things like "Ickle Ronnykins!" drawing even more attention to the flaming duo.

When the noise had quieted down some, an ancient, weary man walked up to the front of the staff table, wearing sky blue, shimmering robes and a floppy blue hat. He reminded Hasan of a very elderly Gandalf, if there was such a thing, and he seemed to protrude wisdom and magic. He also had twinkling starry blue eyes resting behind a pair of half-moon spectacles that seemed to give him a grandfatherly glow. But Hasan knew better- he didn't need Altair's weird ability to be able to tell that this wizard was a force to be reckoned with...

Dumbledore said some artful nonsense, something about the third floor corridor being forbidden, and some other things about Harry Potter training in the mountains that Hasan didn't particularly care about. No, he was much more interested in the people sitting behind Professor Dumbledore than Professor Dumbledore himself.

The first teacher to catch his interest was Hagrid, some part giant, he was sure, but only because he was so hard to miss and Hasan had seen him twice already- once in the Leaky Cauldron, once at the boats. He looked a bit distraught over something, and continually dabbed his leaking eyes with his cloth napkin.

Logically, the second Hasan's eyes sought out was Professor Quirrell, wearing a gaudy purple turban, probably called amethyst to make him feel better. Quirrell was odd, and even from far away, Hasan knew that his father was probably right: this man was dark and most likely hiding something. Probably under an analogous turban...how funny...until their eyes met and Hasan received the tiniest yet sharpest of pinpricks to his forehead. Gods, it just felt so...painful! He made no movement, though, not hinting that anything was wrong, even as Quirrell turned his attention away from him, his mask did not fall. The pinpricks disappeared immediately and Hasan was left wondering why on earth he had reacted like that. The scar...He'd ponder it later, he decided as his gaze fell on the greasy-haired man beside the DADA professor.

This man had stern features too, yet was so unlike McGonagall (not that he had proof of that yet), that he couldn't help but bite his lip and frown. Greasy-Hair had a slightly hooked nose, sallow cheeks and thin lips, a gaunt figure overall, yet Hasan could tell his eyes were a glittering, obsidian black. He peered at Hasan with remarkable focus, and Hasan peered back-

"Oh, that's Severus Snape, my godfather." Draco drawled proudly. But just at that moment, Snape turned his entire head ever so fractionally towards the first years in general, and Hasan immediately snapped his attention back to the front. (Draco caught his eye and waved though, which was met by a barely palpable nod.)

Presently, Professor Dumbledore took a slight bow and students cheered as Professor McGonagall quickly slipped in his place. She held up an old, fraying black hat, probably older than Dumbledore, and declared it to be the Hogwarts Sorting Hat. Ron sighed out a relieved breath at this before glaring in the general direction of his twin brothers...he had been so scared, and it was just a hat! An ugly frown settled on his face and some of the kids even edged away from him.

McGonagall settled the artifact carefully on a low wooden stool ositioned at the front of the hall, and the room immediately became silent, buzzing almost in anticipation. Dumbledore couldn't remember a time when the room was quieter, but he supposed the reasoning was that Harry Potter hadn't been missing then. It was pretty obvious that they were all just interested in hearing the 'P's, but decided to be polite in general. Dead silence. And then the hat began to sing...

.oOo.

...The Hall erupted into loud applause as McGonagall yelled with a magically magnified voice, "Abbott, Hannah!"

The girl in question scampered to the stool, let the professor drop the hat on her head (and cover her eyes) before, amazingly, the hat called out,-

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Hasan heard, rather than saw, Draco smirk beside him, as the Hufflepuff table welcomed her eagerly. The pattern repeated itself: name, hat, house. And Hasan found himself quite interested as to how the hat did what it did, and where the hat would place him.

He wondered absently if his parents belonged to a particular house, and if Voldemort did as well. He figured that Voldemort was probably in Slytherin from all the blood-purity drivel, infused within the Slytherin wannabes. Hmm, that was food for thought.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!" McGonagall called, pulling a haglike witch from the crowd of firsties. So that's the half-blood Pansy was talking about, Hasan thought. She pulled the hat onto her own head, as her hands went to ball into fists in her lap.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The girl hopped down from the stool, practically threw the hat back on the stool, and went hastily off to the Slytherin table on the left side of the hall. Hasan watched as a few kids made room for her, the half-blood: apparently some Slytherins didn't care about blood status or they were just ignorant. Perhaps some were even kind. Hasan wasn't much for categorizing people: shoving them in a box, as he called it. And so, tried to withhold judgment of the house of snakes. He'd have an open mind when confronting the hat, yes, well easier said than done...

.oOo.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips as she took in the name before her: Castell, Hasan. How odd! She couldn't recall a Castell since, goodness! 1965, Lucius Malfoy's year! She glanced at the list, just to make sure was reading correctly, for in all their time reviewing the list she had never once read that name...

But maybe, they were all so obsessed with Harry Potter that they had overlooked a student? Minerva fell into a pit of ashen guilt. They had all vowed not to treat the boy any differently when he got to Hogwarts, but it seemed as if they already had! How could she have missed this child? Wasn't he every bit as deserving as Potter? In all her time at Hogwarts, she had never once forgotten a name from the list! She hadn't noticed how long her inner musings had been going on until Albus cleared his throat loudly from the staff table.

By this time, however, all the students were curious about the holdup. They hadn't gotten to the P's yet, had they? Decidedly not, even Crabbe and Goyle knew their alphabet!

Minerva cleared her throat.

"Castell, Hasan!"

Severus' onyx eyes snapped to the crowd of children, eager to identify this puzzle piece of sorts. He guessed why Minerva had hesitated: She probably felt guilty about overlooking a child, and with her Gryffindor pride, had not once thought that the name wasn't there but a few weeks before... He was happy in a way though, because none of the other staff members ever realized how much lenience they had already given the Boy-Who-Lived. It was about time someone woke up and realized that all kids should be treated the same way! (He was such a hypocrite on this account, but chose not to dwell on it in the glory of the moment.)

From the huddled group of first years, a lean, handsome boy with rich brown hair in a thick braid down his right shoulder emerged. Oddly enough, he seemed to have been standing with his godson! Oh, Merlin! Could he never catch a break? Was Lucius prying too? Severus watched as the boy strode gracefully over to the stool, accepted the hat graciously from Minerva (whom had handed it to him, probably out of guilt), and seated himself primly.

Then, with the whole hall watching, Hasan dropped the hat onto his head, plunging his world in darkness.

"Oh, what do we have here?"

Hasan bit his lip, but otherwise relaxed with his hands holding the edges of the stool.

"You can speak?" Hasan wondered, finding it fascinating how the voice was speaking from inside his mind.

"I much prefer to sing. I'm a song writer, you know. "the hat said cheerfully, "But it's my job, first and foremost, to send you kids where they need to be!"

Hasan wasn't sure how he felt having a hat dig inside his mind, but it wasn't like he was given a choice. The voice inside his head was quiet for a few seconds while it thought before saying,-

"Ah! This is a remarkable discovery indeed...Mr. Potter."

Hasan wasn't stupid enough to ask 'how do you know?' but he did ask if the hat would tell anyone. "Why would I?" the hat countered. "Technically you are, for all intents and purposes, Hasan Castell. You mind seems to separate the two, and as long as you continue to think of yourself that way, then that is who you are and have become."

"It's because I'm dreaming." Hasan explained. "If I wake up one day back in the orphanage, then I'll just be Harry."

Hasan thought he heard the hat sigh if hats could sigh.

"Hmm. A rather interesting notion, Mr. Castell. Logical enough to make a Ravenclaw proud, but your intent behind it...now that is Slytherin. Self-preservation, protection, deception, those are most Slytherin tactics indeed." the hat murmured. "You even hid it from your own father."

"He's not really my father." Hasan informed the hat. "He's more of a mentor. My real parents are dead." Hasan thought for a moment. "By the way, where were they sorted?"

"Well, your parents, Lily and James were both lions, but that shouldn't have any bearing on what you will become." the hat said confidently. "In fact, you know better than I that it's not on the outside, but what lies within...so better be-"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"...thank you..." Hasan thought.

He slipped the hat fluidly off his head, to stare at the silent hall before him. Everyone's eyes were peering at him curiously, but he wasn't shaken by the attention. Instead, he lithely alighted from the stool, and handed the sorting hat back to Professor McGonagall with a nod of thanks. The stunned witch accepted the proffered hat with an inscrutable expression on her visage. The child had been under the hat for nearly ten minutes! TEN MINUTES! It wasn't unheard of, certainly, but...goodness! The hall protruded deafening silence, but Hasan seemed to ignore it all. He made his way carefully over to the Slytherin table, and as he was walking, the applause seemed to grow from a single clap to a thunderous roar.

A thin boy, a year old than Hasan, made room for him at the table before shaking his hand with, "Hello, I'm Adrian Pucey."

"I call myself Hasan." he said, though he felt ridicules seeing as Professor McGonagall had already said it. A boy next to Adrian, about the same age, but with a large build and blank face introduced himself as Cassius Warrington, and Millicent Bulstrode, across the table looked at him curiously. Up close, the girl wasn't that bad to look at. She was no doubt strong, judging by her large arm muscles, but she had pretty black hair and a pleasant enough face. As the older students clambered to shake their new housemate's hand, Cassius asked,-

"Did you and the hat have a nice long tea party? You must have been under there for an hour!"

Hasan shrugged. "I'm not sure about an hour, but the hat was definitely talkative." It wasn't that he couldn't identify the jeering tone, but that he just chose to ignore it. Millicent seemed to respect him for this because she let a small smile brighten her face. It was an amazing transformation really. The four Slytherins chatted quietly, Tracey Davis joining soon enough and making it five, until Granger, Hermione was called to the front, and Hasan withdrew immediately from the conversation.

.oOo.

Hermione now was in a situation: she wanted to be in Gryffindor originally, because she knew Harry Potter fit the mold, but Harry Potter was not here! And so, Ravenclaw suited her best. But Hasan had just been sorted into Slytherin! She wanted to join him, but thinking back to the uncomfortable train ride, she knew she would never feel at home with her Slytherin peers.

She thought all this as she walked shakily up to the hat, placing it carefully on her head, and waited.

"Just place me where I belong! Wherever I belong!" Hermione chanted over and over to herself.

"Why, of course! I always do!" a cheerful old voice spoke in her mind.

It caught Hermione by surprise, even though she had suspected something like a conversation with it. Still, having a foreign anything in your mind was not a usual experience.

"Hmm, you've got a brilliant mind, that much is clear...oh, potential, great potential, yes! And a natural born leader."

"Leader?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. She had the lowest self-esteems in the world! Which was subsequently why she needed to impress others with her knowledge.

"Yes! You have very strong opinions, it's all in here...in your mind. But that doesn't mean you need to force your opinions on others...Ah! I see you want to follow Hasan and Tracey, but why? You're a leader, not a follower. I see that you agree. No, Slytherin is not where you will reach your full potential...Not even Ravenclaw...No, you can achieve so much more if you're in-

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat decreed.

The Gryffindor table, on the far right, exploded in applause as the brown-haired witch hopped happily off to join them. But she couldn't help but send a sheepish smile to Hasan, until, surprisingly, he smiled too. Right, Hermione, you're a leader! A leader! Don't worry about what others think, Hasan obviously approves. Her smile grew even more radiant as she sat with the lions, near Lavender Brown and the Weasley twins.

Hasan was also happy. Hermione Granger might be intelligent, but he didn't want to babysit her twenty-four seven. Hasan saw potential in her, but also knew she had to grow before she might be of any use to him...

The rest of the feast was also rather uneventful. Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, and Hermione were sorted into Gryffindor (plus a few others), as Millie (as they called her), Tracey, Daphne, Pansy, Draco, Theo, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle were sorted into Slytherin, making a little first year group near Hasan. It was the first time he had met many of the girls, and Hasan could tell that Slytherin guys and girls played in very different fields. These girls were cold and calculating for their age of eleven. Well, Tracey was alright, though he was sure that was a persona too, and Daphne seemed nice enough (only because she knew Malfoy really well and Hasan was his friend.)

The food was delicious, but he couldn't help shaking the feeling that someone was watching him very closely.

.oOo.

After a few days, Hasan felt rather settled in good old Hogwarts! Once he got over the owl deliveries in the morning, the rest of the magical culture including the ghosts didn't surprise him as much. The Bloody Baron didn't even move much from his own secret lair in the dungeons. Which wasn't much comfort since the Slytherin dorms were located in the dungeons. But on the bright side, they were simply lovely to live in, in that creepy 'death resides here' way...and he loved the green décor. It wasn't exactly emerald green, but it was still better than those noble scarlet and gold colors. As an added bonus, the snake was the Slytherin mascot! He thought of Tina often, and when he spoke of her to Malfoy, he was pretty sure Malfoy believed Tina to be a dog...it amused Hasan to no end.

On the first night, Professor Snape introduced himself to the first years. He had rather oily hair that fell to about his chin, and glinting black eyes that seemed to take in everything about him.

"...for the next seven years, this house will be your family. Many do not look kindly on Slytherins, and you will soon learn the benefits of unification. I expect you all to uphold this name proudly..."

Amazingly, his was the only voice in the room. He had that sort of aura about him that basically stifled any opposition. Hasan found this magical. At the end of the speech, Snape took leave of them with his cloak billowing behind him, and the prefects led the new snakes to their dorms. It was a shock really when they came upon a small hallway, from which jutted five separate rooms.

"Do the other houses have dorms like these?" Theo asked. The prefect blushed scarlet before snapping,

"How the hell should I know?"

Apparently they did. Hasan supposed it was because out of all of the houses, Slytherins had about as much trust as one could throw them, and with Crabbe and Goyle, well, that wasn't exactly far. Draco choose the door at the end of the hall facing the entrance, Crabbe and Goyle flanked him (doors facing across from one another), Blaise and Theo were on the other side of their rooms, and Hasan was at the very end, closes to the exit.

The interior of the chamber was admittedly much larger than the outside suggested (by the proximity of the doors.) The walls were cream-colored, with a black chair rail, and black wall trim in squares underneath. Under the chair rail, the walls were a pale sage green. A chest of drawers lay off to the side of the bed, the bed itself being a large four-poster with cream and green covers, and silver curtains to draw around oneself for privacy.

Hasan found his trunk at the foot of his bed, with Raven settled on top.

"Hey, girl." Hasan whispered, poking his fingers through the cage. Raven looked at him tiredly, before shutting her eyes again. "Must be tired." Hasan murmured. "I wonder if there's anywhere to keep her..."

He turned back to his trunk, lifted Raven's cage off of it, and cast engorgio to return it to it proper size. Hasan quickly got dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and long gray pants, then head out to the bathrooms which they had passed.*

.oOo.

Severus Snape spent the next few days completing the Muted Sight potion. On Thursday, he went down to the Hog's Head inn and pub, and waited in his usual dark corner. It was nearly midnight, and he was thoroughly exhausted from dealing with all the dunderheads that made up the mass of Hogwarts' student body. He waited, contemplating what he would say to the man. Perhaps starting off with a friendly: 'Why the hell didn't you tell me?' and then following it up with a 'How the hell is this laying low?'

Thinking back to the sorting, he was rather surprised to observe Hasan's ease and indifference to the silence. He seemed very calm and collected...a very Slytherin trait. The boy was handsome, but when he glimpsed the boy's eyes, Merlin!

They were blank.

Oh, it wasn't that they were pitch black, or milky white, or that he was missing a pupil or had cataracts or anything, no, they were just...blank. He couldn't identify what about them threw him off, just that, they were too perfect, or unnatural, or simply too natural. It was all very concerning. Hasan Castell had the dullest pair of jade green eyes Snape had ever seen. Not that green was an altogether common color, but jade should certainly be uncommon, yes?

When he finally broke out of his thoughts, he noticed it was 12:20. He found that he wasn't really surprised. Well that settled it, Altair Castell was definitely involved. Snape trudged back to the castle, strode to his private office and almost froze as he saw a large brown owl on his desk. It blinked at him, holding out a leg with a little note attached to it. It had the usual anti-theft, disillusionment, anti-tamper, &c. spells on it, but Snape undid them easily with a wave of his wand. He took the letter from the owl, whom promptly flew out the window (a tiny one leading out to beyond the Great Lake), and sat in his desk chair to read it.

"Severus,

I can live without the potion for a few months. It's too risky, Lucius spotted me in Diagon Alley and told his son, Draco I think, to keep watch. In my defense my hair was white...anyway, keep watch over my son, won't you?

Castell"

Severus sighed and nearly growled. This! This letter proved just how little brains the man possessed. Luck, certainly, good ears, very, but putting all this information in a letter? Putting both of their names in a letter? Thinking a change in hair style would serve as adequate protection? Salazar, help the man!

So then,...how had he managed to raise a son without him knowing?

.oOo.

Professor McGonagall was sad to say the least. How had she failed two boys already? Poor Harry who was dead for all they knew- all because she didn't have enough Gryffindor courage to tell the headmaster 'No'- and Hasan Castell who she had managed to completely overlook! Well, never again! She licked her paw absently, waving her short little tail so that it hit the edges of her desk. It was always a great source of amusement for her when she got to play this particular trick on the firsties! She waited patiently as the children filed in. Ravenclaws and Slytherins, she believed, watching as they found a chair, chatted, and checked the door every few seconds. Comments like:

"McGonagall has a cat?"

"Is that Filches' cat?"

"Why is it watching us?"

Brought a smile to face, though in her cat form, her whiskers would twitch. Finally, the last pair of students, Draco Malfoy and Hasan Castell, no less, made it into the Transfiguration's classroom.

She drew herself up, ready to leap off the desk and transform in one fluid, feline movement, when a toneless, yet pleasant, voice rang out.

"Professor McGonagall? Is that you?"

It was Hasan Castell! Minerva leapt in the air as the children looked between her and Hasan alternatively. Within a second, the full grown woman people learned to love as Professor McGonagall had materialized in front of them!

"Correct, Mr. Castell! Ten points to Slytherin."

Draco gaped as she was known to favor her own house quite often. Perhaps she would prove to be alright.

"How did you know?" Draco whispered.

"I didn't know. I just asked for confirmation." Hasan replied with a shrug.

"And you have received it. Well done!" Minerva beamed.

Hasan felt it slightly odd that the woman was quick to please, despite her strict reputation, but he felt that this woman had a heart, and that presently, that heart was swamped with guilt. Over him.

After class, a rather boring one as she explained the basic laws of Transfiguration (like not being able to transfigure something into food), Hasan stayed behind. Draco gave him an odd look, but Hasan waved him on, saying that he'd be at lunch in a moment.

The Transfiguration's professor looked surprised at his behavior and made the usual inquiry of 'why?'

"Well, I can't help but notice that -"

Oh no! Was he going to call her out as he did about her cat? Did he detect her feelings of guilt and resolve to redeem herself? Wait, why was she nervous? It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong! She only gave him the points he deserved!

"-Transfiguration is a difficult subject."-(Minerva sighed out imperceptibly.)- "Would you be willing to help me?" Hasan asked, pleading with his jaded orbs. "I just feel so odd, being muggle raised in with the Slytherins. Everyone knows everything already." Hasan looked down at his feet as he fiddled with his fingers.

Oh the poor dear!

"Mr. Castell, I believe something can be arranged. I realize how hard it must be to just enter into the magical community, so if you have any problems, any, even if it has to do with quills or owls, please know that I will do all in my power to help."

The statement was sealed with a tilt of her chin, and Hasan couldn't have been happier.

"Well, thank you, Professor!" he chirped sweetly.

As he left, he imagined Minerva smiling warmly within herself, knowing she had done some good.

Noble Gryffindors.

.oOo.

(The Next Day.)***

"Ah! We've got Potions with the Slytherins!" Dean Thomas whined at breakfast.

"I've heard that Snape can be a real bastard." Ron grumbled as he shoveled cereal into his mouth. "Then again, Fred and George say a lot of things..."

"Oh, I don't know. We get to see Hasan again!" Hermione beamed like a puppy.

"But Hermione! You see him every day!" Ron said, piling more bacon onto his plate.

"Yes, but you don't. He's actually very nice, just...a bit, awkward?"

"Look, I can only take one awkward kid and that's Neville!" Ron shouted callously with a disgusted wrinkle of his nose.

"Um, hi guys." Neville cleared his throat from behind Ron, whom promptly shut his mouth.

"Oh, Neville! How...nice, we were just discussing Potio-"

"Yeah, I heard what you were discussing." Neville told her dejectedly, before turning away and out the hall.

"Odd that one-"

"RONALD!"

Potions came soon enough however, with the Slytherins leading the way, and the lions looking for all the world like they'd been sentenced to life in Azkaban.

"Hello, Hermione." Hasan greeted her as she walked in with the unhappy red head.

"Hasan!" she cried, assaulting him with a hug.

"Salazar, it's like they never see each other." Draco muttered.

"Tell me about it," Ron said, before he realized he had just agreed with a Malfoy. He turned his back, snapping his jaw shut audibly. Draco rolled his eyes, Weasley's...

When Hasan and Hermione were finished their tiny reunion, they all took their seats on the respected sides of the room. Basically, it was a straight line cutting Gryffindor from Slytherin, with Hermione and Hasan joining the ranks of those brave souls on the border's edge. Draco sat next to Hasan, that stupid smirk on his face as Pansy glared envious daggers as Hasan. On the other side of the room, Neville had been forced to a border seat as well because he was Neville, and no one else wanted it.

"Watch this." Draco whispered giddily to Hasan as Snape made his grand entrance into the room, cloak floating behind him in a batlike fashion. "He's going to make that Longbottom boy wet himself."

Sure enough, after Snape's intimidating 'Welcome to Potions, you are going to fail' speech, he shot question after impossible question at Neville Longbottom.

"Tell me, Mr. Longbottom, what would I get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up immediately, but Neville was on his own.

"I-I"

"Speak up, Mr. Longbottom!"

"I don't know,...sir." he added hastily.

"Let us try again." Snape sneered as he paced the front of the class. "Where would you look if, Merlin forbid, you need use of a Bezoar?

"D-don't know, sir." At first, his terror had been contagious, but now, a few giggles were poorly stifled. Hermione's arm shot ramrod straight, and she drew herself up in her chair. Snape ignored her. Hasan ignored her.

"And finally, what is the difference between the plants Monkshood and Wolfsbane? Let us hope third time's a charm."

Hasan's head immediately perked up at hearing that familiar phrase. It was quite common in the Lord of the Rings book, but he had yet to hear its use in everyday speech- if Snape was considered a good example of an average person's vocabulary.

This time, Hermione was on her feet before Ron tugged her down with a harsh whisper. Hermione glared at him with a hmf, before turning her bushy hair in his face.

"I-I don't know, sir...but um, I think Hermione does." Neville said tentatively, looking at Hermione in horror (as she was now sitting down), causing Draco to smirk with glee. Snape snapped his head so fast towards Hermione that she actually blinked in surprise.

"I think not! For your information, Mr. Longbottom, the Powdered Root of Asphodel and Wormwood would make the Draught of Living Death, a very powerful sleeping potion. The Bezoar is a stone, taken from the stomach of a goat and will be a cure for most poisons. As for the third, they are the exact same plant which also goes by the name of Aconite."**

While Altair had never formally trained Hasan in potions (probably another way of keeping Hasan from finding out about his magic seeing condition and thereby the truth- idiot logic really,) even Hasan knew these three answers.

His previous depravation of knowledge made Hasan do some serious pre-reading during his last month of summer, and the first answer was found in the middle chapter. The second question about the bezoar wasn't necessarily a potions question, as it was also basic survivalist information. As for the third, that was in the beginning of his A-Z potion supplies book. (Something he bought for enrichment.)

"Well, why aren't you copying that all down?" Snape bellowed, causing an immediate search for quills, ink, and parchment. "And thirty-three points from Gryffindor for inadequate preparation!"

Hasan glanced at Draco as he was one of the only daring ones not moving, but Draco murmured that he had known all the answers already. Hasan did too, but he also knew it would draw too much attention to them both if they were both sitting still. So Hasan took out his writing supplies and made a short-hand note complete with equal signs and arrows. Draco's lips quirked up in amusement.

The rest of the lesson was rather uneventful. They went over potion's supplies and equipment, as well as the basic properties of different cauldrons, and how simple directions like mince and cut should be taken very seriously. Hasan found this all very interesting, as did Hermione, he could tell, but he was almost positive that Neville hadn't heard a word. The class was dismissed soon enough.

Neville was the first one out.

.oOo.

One week later brought the Slytherins and Gryffindors back together again, in their first flying lesson of the year. The children spilled out onto the field that was already laden with twenty beat-up brooms, ten for each row. The houses naturally faced each other, sneering and smirking and glaring back defiantly. Hasan and Draco were parallel with Hermione and Neville, though it was Ron who captured the Malfoy heir's attention. Ron, tactful as ever, was glaring so heatedly at the Slytherins that his face was turning red.

Draco nudged Hasan's elbow and snickered, but Hasan was more interested in the nervous boy who had lost his toad on the very first day. It seemed that sometime during the instructions 'don't fly,' Neville Longbottom had risen rapidly into the air, with his hand grasping desperately at the broom. The poor boy's face was close to tears as he flailed around helplessly to the now unhidden snickers. At then he began to fall. Madam Hooch quickly cast a cushioning charm, but not before Neville's wrist hit the ground with an audible crack.

"LONGBOTTOM!" Madam Hooch cried. "To the infirmary with you." She walked to poor boy back herself (when no one wanted to volunteer) with strict instructions not to disobey her this time. Once she was out of sight, however, Draco grinned and snatched up a small glinting object in the grass.

"Hey! That's a remembrall!" a girl screamed.

"Wait, that's Neville's you can't touch it!" Ron growled. "Give it back!"

Draco cocked his head to the side.

"Really? Who's going to make me?" Draco sneered, hopping onto a broom and whizzing upwards with ease.

Hasan thought this all incredibly juvenile as far as instigations went, but Ron was on his broom in seconds.

"Ronald!" Hermione pleaded from the ground, but he ignored her. Soon the two boys were face to face in the air, Ron having had practice before with his brothers. What an idiot! Hermione thought.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" Ron demanded, holding a hand out and causing his broom to quake under him.

"Hm, I suppose I will." Draco smirked, tossing it behind him. It took Weasley a few seconds to react, but he chased the falling object with passion!

"Whoa!" Lavender Brown oohed.

The ball was nearing the ground, Ron was fast behind it, Draco had already landed safely as if he had never gotten up in the first place, the grass, the ground, feet, inches.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

CRACK!

Ron's shoulder connected with the hard packed dirt with a sickening crack, the remembrall landing softly with a little thud. What the hell? It had a protection charm on it? Ron's eyes shut in agony as he clutched his shoulder with his good arm.

"Ronald Weasley! What were you thinking? You could've been killed!" Madam Hooch screamed as she ran onto the field.

"Malfoy! He-" Lavender protested.

"I don't want to hear it! I told you all specifically not to fly!"

"But Malfoy!"

"That is enough, Miss Brown! Ten points from Gryffindor for not being able to follow simple instructions!"

As Madam Hooch led the injured Weasley away, Hermione wiped away a tear. She just felt so guilty...when she was in ordinary school, she would always stand up for people, but then...she hadn't any friends in ordinary school either. She was so conflicted: Should she have spoken up? But the rational side of her brain told her that Lavender had spoken out and it did no good. And besides, Ron shouldn't really have...

She felt a hand at her back, and she turned to find Hasan smiling slightly at her. His jade green eyes soothed the conflict just a bit as he gave her a hug.

"Don't feel too bad Hermione." he said. "Now he knows not to be rash. It is better he learns now than later."

Hermione nodded, pulling away from the brown haired boy. She didn't know why, but the comment felt so divine, heartless yes, but it made sense. It would help Ron in the long run, right? Still, it just sounded so wrong coming from a child's mouth, as if he knew what was right and wrong just like an adult. She was affronted and in awe all at once. Just then, Draco popped up beside Hasan, a large grin cracked over his pale face.

"Did you see that?" he nearly bounced in joy, "A broken shoulder and points from Gryffindor!"

Pansy was giggling hysterically with her group of Slytherin girls, even Tracey, who was probably only there for peer pressure than anything else was following along, stifling laughs behind her hand. Draco himself was doubled over, laughing as Hasan looked on stoically.

"I'm afraid my vision was hindered by an ignoramus." Hasan said wryly, "I was gagging at the infantile tête-à-tête."

Hermione was the only one who seemed to understand the entire line, and was smiling pitifully through her tears.

"What?" Draco asked dumbfounded. Even though the language was extremely unusual (he wouldn't admit to advanced) the tone was unmistakable. (Which was saying something because Hasan was usually toneless, unless he put forth effort.)

"I think he called you an idiot." Theo piped up helpfully, respect reverberating in his voice.

"And childish!" Seamus was laughing. "Even I know what an infant is!"

Draco glared at them to back off, but was startled at the sudden hand on his shoulder.

"Let me show you how's it's done." Hasan smiled gently with a tilt of his head. Draco froze.

"Some people prefer to target pressure points." Hasan whispered, pressing softly behind his collar bone. Draco stiffened under him, trying his hardest not to let it show.

Everyone was watching now, wondering what on earth was going to happen between the two Slytherins.

"Others use brute force." Hasan said lightly, adding a smidgeon more pressure. Altair had made sure his son was well advanced in combat of any sort, and Hasan was thankful for it now.

Draco didn't react at first; he was too regal, too dignified to squeal or retreat, but then he clenched his jaws, and sought out Hasan's eyes for indications of play. He was horrified at what he saw. Cold jade eyes stared evenly back at him, those of murderer, or his father after missions when he was just a child. Draco's face paled further, turning from milky to chalk to ghostly white... "But speed always adds a factor."

Hasan could hear footsteps echoing off the castle stones and knew he had to play this just right.

"Three...two..." His lips moved without motion and his words were carried without sound.

Hermione let out a gasp, but couldn't seem to look away, hands hiding all but her eyes.

"One."

Draco jerked backwards as Hasan leapt lithely away.

"What the HELL!" Draco screeched, rubbing at his delicately bruised shoulder.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch cried, affronted, entering purposely back onto the field. "Such language! Ten points from Slytherin and a detention to you!"

Draco's mouth hung open in outrage, before snapping shut as he gazed warily at Hasan.

The boy's face was back to blank. Jade eyes dead as ever. No remorse, no joy, not anything.

Was his father's approval really worth this much? Could he even get close to such a monster? To such a machine? To such a doll? All to create an even more superficial friendship than what was already established?

No, that would simply be a waste of time. It was not for his father that he was doing this, but for himself. And so help him if he wasn't going to make Hasan Castell his friend.