"Hi, N-niki. You okay?" He forces a smile onto his scarred face. "It's confirmed now, I'll b-be a-a-assistant teacher, imagine that!" He positively beams now, a rare sight. "So... r-recovered from visiting Tisha?"

"Congratulations!" Niki said, grinning. "I think Nathan headed down to Knockturn Alley, although you didn't hear that from me." She liked Drake. She wouldn't forget seeing him suddenly turn back into a boy in the Slytherin common room...not for a long time.

"Oh, I'm j-just buying some books f-for my new p-position." Drake rummaged in his bag and drew out a book with sparkling letters on it that read 'Muggle Meanness - On the need of preserving pure wizard blood' by Aariman Crowley.

"Uhm - interesting, but not very charming, really," said Morticia, frowning. "Drake, we're heading for a butterbeer, do you want to join us?"

"S-sure," Drake said, smiling grimly at Niki before putting the book back into his bag. "Easy t-to find r-r-rubbish like that i-in Kn-knockturn," he explained darkly, then looked at Niki, winked and offered her his arm. "C-care to j-join me to the C-cauldron, my lady?"

Niki smiled. "Certainly, Sir Drake. You're teaching Muggle Studies, then? I'm not taking that, I'm afraid."

"Not?" He raised an eyebrow. "N-not interested?"

"Not enough time," Morticia said, "I think. You know, Drake, SOME people have to actually STUDY to get their grades." She grabbed his other arm. "Come on now, noble knight, lead on."

Accompanied by the two girls, Drake headed towards the Leaky Cauldron and had a look around at his future students.

When they were inside, Niki turned to answer Drake's question about his class.

Niki shrugged. "My grandmother wouldn't let me take Muggle Studies. She's a bit bigoted--okay, a lot bigoted. She doesn't like Muggle-borns..." She sighed.

"Just a-ask if you have any questions," Drake said with a crooked smile. "W-wait here."

He pointed to a table and then walked off to get the drinks.

*************

Oriana walked out of Flourish and Blotts, and headed to the Leaky Cauldron. Just after she got there, she bumped into a boy whom she hadn't met before. And he looked to be Oriana's age.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Oriana. I'm in Slytherin. 4th year. I don't believe we've met before." So many cute boys attending Hogwarts!

As Marvo entered the Leaky Cauldron he was surprised to see so many familiar faces, and a few unfamiliar ones.

He Turned to Oriana as she bumped into him. "Oh. Hello" he smiled, and for only the briefest second his eye gave a little red glow.

"Oh yes. Oriana Nort. Yes I've seen you about. I'm Marvo Ward. The...." He paused. "Gryffindor. A Pleasure to meet you."

Strange, he thought to himself. She doesn't seem like a Slytherin. Still, nor did Niki or Tish.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Marvo," said Oriana. "Would you like to go inside and talk over a butterbeer?"

**********

Piotr sat at a corner, shadowy table in the Leaky Cauldron, a barely touched glass of butterbeer in front of him. For someone so - naturally - pale, he looked even more drawn and wan than usual.

The time between his visit to Hogwarts and now had been fraught with his degenerating condition. He had been upping his dosage of potion, changing the ingredients subtly, and becoming quite an alchemist in the effort. But nothing seemed to help. As the days slipped by, so, seemingly, did his tentative grip on 'health'.

He sipped at the butterbeer thoughtfully. He was older than most of the other fourth years, his sixteenth birthday on March 29th hanging over him like the Sword of Damocles. It had been a decision of the school's Headmaster, apparently, to place him down a year, not particularly because of his academic standards, but perhaps because the Headmaster felt he would fair better in the fourth year.

Currently, Piotr felt he would fair better by just being left alone.

An ache at the back of his head began threatening to turn into a migraine, and he reached into the inner pocket of his signature overcoat and pulled out a vial of his 'potion', taking a swift draft. The persistent throb began to subside and he closed his eyes behind his dark glasses.

For such an arrogant young man, Piotr was, deep down, quite afraid. He understood every last detail about his condition - hadn't he researched it until he was blue in the face? - but that didn't mean he had accepted it.

Far from it. Picking up his butterbeer, he sipped at it, lost in his own private thoughts.

********

In the Alley, Raphael fell backwards in surprise at the sudden intrusion, unaware that anybody had been looking at him, staring so intently at the scrap of paper that his eyes were watering. He looked up to see a tall girl standing before him, blue eyes looking at him. Had she talked to him? Why were there so many kids about of his age?

He started to have suspicions about where exactly his uncle was sending him, although for just a second he contemplated the idea that this was a bizarre trip to some kind of kids lock-up prison affair for adolescents with too much time on their hands. Too many kids. He looked up at Kathryn through his dark hair, unintentionally flashing her an intense and not amazingly happy-looking glance with his emerald eyes.

Looking down at the strangely scrawled note again, Raphael sighed, and mentally gave in. He was actually going to have to ask one of the 'natives' for directions. He just hoped that this girl would go more then point and grunt - she seemed willing to be useful.

Right, start a conversation then, Raphael told himself. He cleared his throat, and then once again, just for luck. "Um," he started. "Er," he said, gulping, and trying to think of the words.

A few words turned into a rush. "I've been told to come here after my dam-ned uncle got a strange letter which he wouldn't let me see, even when it took him a bloody week to read, with a note that hardly makes any sense, and with a bag of gold that could probably be sold to an antique shop for more then it's weight. I've been told to get all sorts of amazing and wonderful things: a stick from a stick shop that's been selling nobbly things since the earth was born, a set of books that look like they've been beared as well as dogged, a big pot that I wouldn't eat my soup out of, and a set of robes that moths are already starting on pilgrimages towards."

Raphael continued, unaware of the look on the girls' face. "So now I've probably missed half the stuff coz I can't read my uncles scrawl, the most clear things he's said is: 'talk to people', like that'd help, and now I have to catch a train on a platform I don't think exists. Welcome to my life."

Finally he looked at her face. She seemed a little... er... "I've messed this up, haven't I?" he asked.

"Hi," he started again. "Sorry. Hi. I'm Raphael. Help me. Please."

Kat giggled at the poor boy.

She waited for him to finish, then smiled at him. "I would be glad to help you Raphael."

She took a deep breath before starting. "So, you are joining Hogwarts this year and you know nothing about wizardry am I right?"

Raphael stared at Kat blankly.

A second of discomfort passed, visible in his eyes, being that for a small time Raphael was wondering to himself just how he would greet his uncle. "Wizardry," he muttered to himself, hardly noticing as a new girl, Nimue, came and stood next to Kat. "Wizardry."

He bit his lip. "Hogwarts?" he asked. "Wizardry?" The frown on Raphael's face turned a shade darker. "I am going to murder my uncle. I really am."

"Let me guess: this Hogwarts business involves getting on a train on... um... let's see..." he said, peering at the shard of paper. "Platform Nine and Three Quarters." he looked up at Kat, and his frown disappeared, replaced with the kind of expression that always follows a heart-felt sigh.

He sighed. "So, what's this all about? You lot don't look that much like - er - 'juvenile offenders'. That's a compliment so I don't think I need to apologise for it. Um."

Kat looked almost pitifully at Raphael. "You have no idea where you are going or why?" There was a little disbelief in her voice, but then this did happen from time to time...

She glanced over her should to see Nimue, and smiled at her. "Ah, this is Nimue Hawkwood, Raphael."

She didn't really wait for introductions though, this boy was obviously unsure of what was going on anyway.

"Well, shall I start from the top? This is Diagon Alley... a shopping street for wizards and witches. I am a student, who like yourself, will be leaving on a train from Kings Cross station from platform 9 and 3/4. The train will take us to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where we learn how to do magic."

She stopped and looked at Raphael to see if he had understood so far or if he already knew that.

Nimue couldn't imagine what it must be like for this boy who appeared to have been thrown into in a world he couldn't comprehend. She stepped closer.

She knew from talking to a few muggle born students that occasionally it did happen that they hadn't realised they had magical talent and had managed to discount odd happenings in their childhood (or had them discounted) until their letter arrived.

Sometimes there was a 'black sheep' in their families. Someone who was a little 'spooky' in some way who might well have some knowledge of the magical community but kept this from the rest of the family or was marginalised. Yet they would manage to keep an eye on various younger relations to see if they were similarly gifted.

"You mentioned an uncle." she said picking up on his comments, "I take it he knew what the letter was about and set you on the path to Diagon Alley somehow."

Like Kat she found it a little hard to believe someone would have wandered into this area without some clue or guide.

Raphael stopped for a second to assimilate a little of what he'd heard. "Yeah," he replied to Nimue woozily, "he must have known. The instructions on how to actually get to this street were the only clear bits."

He shook his head and thought back a little more. So, he was to be a student. His uncle had sent him to school. Anger bubbled up in him: he'd never been asked to go to school before. It didn't seem right. Damn his uncle.

This time he was clever enough to keep the thoughts from crossing his face and scaring the two girls. Something caught his attention about what Kathryn had said, something that didn't make sense. "...learn how to do magic?" he asked. "Why would you need to learn how to do magic? You either can or you can't," he said matter-of-factly.

He was right: that he could remember properly. "You are either born with it or you aren't. Why do people teach it? You don't learn how to do more magic, do you, you just, kinda, it just," he started again, "it just grows itself."

"Doesn't it? It's decided at birth if you can do it," Raphael said, although something in his head clicked, and a strange expression crossed his face, "and then, it grows up with you. You can't change how it grows."

He looked at Kat and Nimue curiously. Maybe he'd had the wrong sort of upbringing, sighed Raphael to himself.

"Well, you are right in one sense." said Nimue with some confidence and relieved that he was apparently to some degree wizard born even if raised in a rather sheltered environment.

"The ability to do magic is not something you can learn without being born with some innate ability. But raw talent is raw talent and it is the process of refining, training and further developing that talent that happens at a school like Hogwarts. In some cases learning to control abilities before they burn you out."

He raised an eyebrow at that. The words 'raw talent' and the phrase 'burning you out' sounded fun. Was that what he was? Raw talent? The idea was stupid. Dismissing as many odd thoughts from his head as possible, he grabbed the single black robe he'd bought earlier that day, and started pulling it on while Nimue talked, not even considering that it might be rude. Having not lived with people in a long time, Raphael would never have thought, had had its disadvantages.

"We learn from those who are masters and mistresses of the magical arts. Very similar to learning to read music or play an instrument if you have that sort of ability. We learn the traditions and languages associated with the magical arts and also explore those areas in which we might not be as gifted at birth so that our abilities are more rounded. We also place magic in the context of history, our own as well as that of the non-wizarding world."

The robe finally made it over his head, and he did hear most of that, he promised himself.

She smiled, "So you can learn to do more magic."

Raphael looked at her critically. "Er, okay then."

His heart stopped pounding in his chest, finally, after a good few minutes at full heart-attack mode. Cautioning himself not to be a fool, Raphael didn't admit to himself that he'd been a bit worried about being officially on his own. he knew it was foolish, this attempt at independence, and he knew that there was at least one person who would have frowned on him, telling him to rely on the people around him, to learn. He tried to shut out the half familiar voice from his mind, absently running his left temple with his left wrist, as always, catching his watch on the skin.

He winked at the two blue eyes that were looking at him from the shadows - and told himself that not everybody would tell him he needed lots of other kids and people around to talk to. Only then did it become apparent that both Nimue and Kathryn were waiting for him to go on.

"Er," he mumbled, "so, now what? Tell me about what your world is like - I've never been in a universe where school is a good thing," he quipped, with a laconic smile half on his lips.

But before she could answer, he slipped his hands into his jean pocket, and grabbed out something. Spinning it three times in his right hand without looking, Raphael pressed a catch and a knife-blade clicked out. With three savage cuts he attacked his own wrists and mutilated his new school uniform, grinning at the result.

"So," he said as he flipped the knife closed and into his pocket, "what stuff am I missing," he asked, unaware of the two girls expressions at his knife-wielding, "and when do I get on the train to this prison school that my uncle's sent me to?"

Kat looked shocked at Raphael. "Umm..." she said a little nervously now.

"Do you not believe us that this is all to do with learning wizardry? It is not a prison. No-one has to go there..." She looked at Raphael's now shabby new school robes.

"If you want me to look at the list I can lead you to where you can buy what you need." She did feel a need to be a little more cautious, but she was still here to do her job as well as get her things for school.

Nimue was also shocked, "Kathryn is right. No one is forced to go to Hogwarts or to remain there against their will. However, if you are found carrying a knife like that you could be seeing the inside of muggle juvenile facility. Don't you realise they are illegal in this country?"

Raphael turned around sharply, and looked at Nimue in surprise. "Illegal..." he asked, "wow. I'd better tell my uncle... he gave it to me... well," Raphael said, slightly quieter this time, "it was his at one point, anyway..." Biting his lip to try and not laugh, Raphael buried the memory of the last few days he'd had with his uncle.

"There is no need to potentially draw such attention to yourself." She concluded.

Again he shrugged. "Why you looking at me so weird, you two? It's just a knife. I used it for chopping wood back... back where I used to live, for when I had to sleep out the house," he said. "Anyway." Grinning at the reaction he'd managed to get, and with a sinking suspicion that it wasn't the last odd look he'd get, he handed Kathryn and Nimue the note. "Can you read it?"

Nimue listened to the explanation and smiled. "I guess things are likely different in the countryside than in a city like London. The wizarding world does exist in a co-operative relationship with that of the non-wizarding world so we abide by their laws in such matters."

"The wizarding world?" stammered Raphael, caught off guard. "Non-wizarding world? Don't... wizards... magic users... mix with... non-magic users?"

Looking down the list, Raphael started listing... "a wand... two set's of books..." he said, and both the girls realised that he also had a set of basic books on the list. Would he be doing catch-up lessons? "Er, school robes, dress robes... second hand," he admitted, "a cauldron, a set of ingredients - I couldn't afford many of those -, um, a winter cloak, already had one of those, and... er... I have to get... a broomstick and a pet. I don't really have any money left though," he added, with a slight frown on his face. "I'll do without those."

"If there isn't anything else I need," he asked, "what should I do now? I can't really go back. So lead on to Hogwarts. When's this train?"

Nimue perused the list with Kat and then said to Raphael. "The train leaves at 11:00 am from Kings Cross which isn't far at all. We'll be leaving no later than 10:30 for the station."

Kat examined the list, carefully keeping an eye on Raphael as she did so. "So you have all these things? The books, clothes," she eye'd his tattered robes. "the cauldron, the herbs and the wand..."

She thought for a minute about the fact that Marvo was supposed to be buying the butterbeer. "If you are all ready for school then you could join us for a butterbeer in the Leaky Cauldron. We have about half an hour until we need to get to the train."

At least that way Marvo could keep an eye on him too...

Raphael grinned at her, suddenly at ease. "Well, then, do we have time to do whatever passes for entertainment for you guys?" Slipping one hand through Nimue's arm, and the other through Kathryn's, he started walking, surrounded by the two girls, towards the pub he'd seen on the way in. Raphael smiled slightly as he started walking the two girls towards the Leaky Cauldron. "If we have time, you'll have to show me what on earth you lot mean by magic. I somehow wonder if this school thing was really meant to be for me..."

Looking over his right shoulder, straining his neck to see over the large rucksack over his shoulders, Raphael made some odd motion with his head towards a set of shadows that only Nimue could see.

Turning back, and continuing to walk arm in arm with the two girls like he'd known them all his life, Raphael asked both of them: "so, am I gonna have to catch up on fourteen years work or what?" he asked, as they approached the pub.

Kat smiled a little at Raphael's response to her suggestion. "I guess how much catching up you will have to do depends on how good you are at magic already."

Kat let him link his arm through hers and be led in the direction of the leaky cauldron. She wondered who else they would see in there...

***********

"I didn't have a chance to tell you!" Niki said hurriedly to Morticia. "And didn't really want to in front of Drake...but I got a tattoo!"

"You got a WHAT???" Morticia exclaimed, not caring about people stopping their conversations to stare at the two girls. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND??"

Niki smiled. "It's not a *big* one," she said defensively. "I haven't gotten up the nerve to tell my grandmother yet, though..."

Morticia grabbed her by the sleeve, smiled hastily at Drake and then rushed Niki into the ladies' room. "What is it? Show me, oooh, please, this is so exciting, I mean, you're utterly and totally out of your mind and I don't think that tattoos are something people as young as we should get, but shooow me!"

Niki laughed as her friend tugged her into the bathroom. "Are you *sure* you want to see?" she teased. "Just joking!" She lifted her shirt a few inches to show her belly-button. The tattoo was quite small--a black snake circling her navel, its tail in its mouth.

Morticia stared and giggled. "Cuuute!" She winked. "I bet Nathan would LOVE to see this, for more than one reason..."

"What do you mean?" Niki demanded with a smile.

"Well, a symbol of Slytherin and it's on you..." Morticia let her voice trail of meaningfully. "Anyway, let's get back to Drake, he'll be wondering what's going on. And I'd like to meet some of the others."

Niki nodded. For a moment, she had thought that Tish meant something else--the snake, as she had carefully instructed the man who did it, had green eyes, not blue--and been nervous... She had promised not to tell, and so, of course, she wouldn't. She would keep her promises.

"Yes, let's go...I've seen most of the people, but not really talked to anyone. Did you see a lot of Drake over the summer?" She didn't want to ask about Nathan...it would be a bit obvious, after all...but maybe she could subtly lead into things.

**********

Mahou nodded graciously and stepped out of F&B. She turned around and began to explain the difference between House Elves and other elves.

"House Elves usually belong ta rich families," she told Nathaniel as she stood there. She had previously bought all sorts of books from F&B, including the Alchemy book, though she wasn't sure about her being able to get into it. "Th' difference b'tween House Elves an' th' type o' elf tha' I a-- ken abou'.." she caught herself, "be tha' House Elves serve their masters, an' are really short." She smiled. "An' th' elves o' Ireland can be as tall as any human. They be descendants o' the Tuatha de Danaan themselves. A race o' Faery Folk o' Ireland. 'Tis a very proud heritage."

She started to walk with the others, heading toward the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer. "Flyin' be th' best thing in th' world fer me," she confided, carrying her bags as she talked. Blackfoot followed behind. "It be th' only time tha' I be able ta let all me feelin's go an' be meself. An' me Firebolt be th' best broom on th' market! After we drop off our things at th'.. what was it? Oh, wherever, I wanna see th' Quality Quidditch Supplies shop!"

She laughed and crammed her hat down further over her ears, a sharp wind having blown it up a bit.

"That's a bit of a puzzle isn't it? Though Nimue once told me that the reason that house elves tend to attach themselves to rich families is that because they don't mind being looked after or something and that their Houses tend to be very old as well. It's one of those things that you kind of get used to like flying. There is a lot of books about non-human races in the Hogwarts library if you are interested in that kind of thing." Sarah said to Nathaniel with a cheeky grin.

Nathaniel wasn't sure if she was mocking him or not, so said nothing and just trailed along.

She turned her attention to Mahou, "Drop our shopping at the Leaky Cauldron pub you mean? The Quidditch shop is just here."

They were indeed walking past the Quality Quidditch Supplies. Sarah noted that there were a few familiar faces on the street.

The kitten stirred in his pocket, and Nathaniel paused to rearrange the packages so he wouldn't disturb it further, and just followed the two girls; trying not to look totally lost.

Mahou looked over at the QQS, forcing herself to walk on by. She sooo wanted to take a peek, but knew she would spend hours in that store alone. Walking alongside the others, she felt like she finally belonged somewhere.

"If I were ye, Nathaniel," she said, "I'd be lookin' up all o' th' magical creatures. 'Tis th' most interestin' thing." She smiled at Sarah. "An' thanks fer tellin' me th' name o' th' tavern."