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Quirinus stared at Grey out the corner of his eye from across the room. The boy was as strange as usual, his tiny fingers were picking at paint on the desk and inspecting the thin pieces with curiosity. He found it rather hard to believe that this was the boy who had defeated his Lord. The child crouched below the desk, no doubt looking for more paint to dislodge. It must be an act, Quirrell concluded. No person could be so... So what? Oblivious? Out-of-it? Weird? The brat just didn't make sense. One minute he was staring at the ceiling, the next he was defeating the most difficult obstacles.

He stood from his seat and tripped down the aisles of students. 'Damn this pathetic persona.' Stopping in front of the desk, the Professor crouched down, kneeling at eye level with the bane of his existence.

"M- Mr. Grey?" he called -stuttered- gently. The boy didn't glance away from his intense inspection of the bottom of his desk.

"Yessir?" he asked in his expected monotone.

"P- please stay after c- class."

The brat still didn't look at him. "Yessir."

With that Quirrell stood and waited impatiently for the bell to ring.

*Bell*

"You asked me to stay after class, sir?"

Quirrell flinched and fell backwards in his chair, landing painfully against the floor. He glanced down to see Harry Grey sitting cross legged under his desk. "H- Harry!" he stuttered, this time it wasn't fake. "What are you doing? How did you get under there!?"

The boy simply shrugged and crawled out and sat in front of Quirrell's still knocked over chair. "I don't know. You asked me to stay after class, sir?"

The man stood, patting down his robes and cleared his throat. "Yes, I was simply wondering how you were faring after that horrible Quidditch match."

The boy blinked. "Oh."

...

...

...

"So, how are you faring?" Quirrell finally ground out, trying not to sneer in annoyance at the boy's lack of response.

He shrugged again. "I'm fine... Can I go now?"

Quirrell sighed and rubbed his temples. "Yeah, sure."

Harry stood and walked slowly towards the door, only stopping right in front of it to turn back. "Oh, sir?"

The man glanced up into luminous green eyes, finding faint amusement reflecting in them. "You forgot to stutter." The door closed quietly as he exited.

Definitely an act.


Hagrid stepped happily out his door, whistling a tune. He was joyfully surprised to see Lily and James' son waiting for him on his doorstep

"'Ello there Harry. What're ya' doin' out here?"

Harry glanced up from his spot below. "Good afternoon, Hagrid. I have forgotten how to get back to get back to my Common Room. So I thought I would sleep on your doorstep until Ranger Perfect came looking for me."

Hagrid smiled almost ruefully. What a strange boy, he's involved himself with. Though the child's equally strange acts of kindness always made up for his abnormal ways.

"Well yeh can't sleep there, ye'll catch the death of yeh in this weather! How's 'bout I walk yeh back to yer Common Room?"

Harry nodded and wrapped his petite hand around Hagrid's pinkie. Hagrid smiled again, this time more happily.

"So how has Hogwarts been treatin' yer?" asked the half-giant.

"Fine."

He nodded. "O'course, well Christmas break is comin' up. Do yeh plan on goin' back home?"

Harry nodded, a small light of sorts appearing in his eyes."Yes, the Earl gets lonely without me. Though, Ranger Perfect has invited me to come visit him for New Years."

Hagrid frowned. "The Earl? Who's that?"

Harry shrugged. "He is and was many things. At the moment though, he is my guardian."

Hagrid nodded. "Good." Anything was better than those Dursleys, as long as he takes care of Harry, Grey was in his good books.

They walked in silence through the mostly empty Hallways.

"Hagrid?"

"Yes Harry?"

Green eyes stared up in a curious expression. "What is the Cerberus guarding?"

Hagrid froze. "H- how'd yeh know 'bout tha'?"

Harry stared at him for a moment longer, before turning back to look ahead of him. "I understand, you're not meant to tell. I will not pester you any longer."

He nodded and let out a sigh of relief.


Percy curled in on himself, deep in thought.

"I don't shake."

So? What does that have to do with anything?

'1777'

And he's still alive?

He squeezed his fists and grabbed the glass of water sitting on his bedside table, drinking it all in one gulp and continued to hold it loosely in his hand.

The variables were all there, sitting in front of him, mocking him. There was something, something obvious, something that fits diving in and out of his vision and lingering in the back of his mind. But what is it?

"I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't shake" '1777' "I don't sh-

'CRASH'

The glass shattered against the wall after Percy threw it across the room in a fit of anger. Oliver snickered from his bed and grinned.

"I wonder how everyone would respond if they knew you had such a violent personality."

Percy sneered in the direction of his roommate. "Shuddup, or I'll aim the next one as your face."

Oliver just laughed. "So, what has you so hot and bothered? Somethin' happen to the Chudley Cannons? That's your team, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Surprisingly, not everyone's life revolves around Quidditch."

The Jock leaned forward. "Then what is it?"

"It's not like you'll be of any help."

"Try me."

Percy sighed and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. "What's something that's really old, but doesn't shake hands... or no, what's something that should be dead and doesn't shake hands."

Oliver blinked and scratched his chin in thought. "Sounds like a ghost ta' me. Like y'know, 'cause they can't touch people."

He rolled his eyes again. "Ugh, you're such an idio-" He paused in thought before grinning.

"Hmm, you're a bit less stupid than I thought."

"Really?! You think so?! Could 'ya tell that to my Mum? And Professor McGonagall and Snape and Sprout and-"

'Raised by a ghost, eh? Explains a lot, I suppose.'


Welp yeah, dassit folks. Be happy or not... it doesn't really make a difference to me.

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