Niki had slept the best she had in years. Although she had tossed and turned, resulting in a sharp pain at the nape of her neck, her sleep had been blessedly free of nightmares. There were dreams, of course. She had always been able to remember her dreams, no matter how strange them might be. In the most recent one, giant hands held her over a fire and she watched green ribbons issue from her chest and collect in a large glass jar. It was a curious, tickling sensation, and she woke up giggling to early-morning light pouring in the gap between the curtains of her four-poster bed.

When she had dressed, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and braided her hair with a wave of her wand (tying the plait with a flamboyant silver bow) she picked up her bag and made her way to the Great Hall.

Halfway there, she was waylaid by Peeves, and had to run to keep from being pelted with erasers and bits of chalk. By ducking through corridors and up staircases she had never seen, she managed to elude him, but she was hopelessly lost.

By the time the Gray Lady passed by and directed her to the Great Hall, her cheeks were very flushed and breakfast was well underway. Niki slipped into a seat at the Slytherin table, in the midst of a group of giggling first years, well away from anyone she knew. She wanted a moment to collect herself...

**********

Her stay in the corridor outside was over. Now was the crunch time.

Niamh Donnegal's bags were upstairs, ready for movement to whatever would become her common room. The trip up hadn't been bad, even with the flu that she'd caught and was still recuperating from, and she was meant to go into dinner now, go to dinner and eat with the others after her sorting. Into Ravenclaw, obviously - father always called me a little bookworm, she reminded herself. With not a little touch of bitterness.

Would he have preferred a Gryffindor boy, strong, not disabled, able to carry on family traditions?

She pushed the idea out of her mind. She was destined for Ravenclaw, like it or not. She could feel it. She hated it. Kinda. Or not. It didn't really matter. Not really.

So, coughing delicately into her red handkerchief, Niamh swept slowly and serenely across the hallway, stepping neatly around the pillars and up the stairs. Her father had grudgingly told the teacher who had organised things this morning that she didn't need help around, she was fine. Her shoes didn't make a sound on the steps, and she could feel the smooth regularity of them through her suede soles.

Into the hall. At first, stepping between the tables and around the occasional set of Gryffindor boys who seemed to fall of their chairs with alarming regularity into her path. Stepping over a bag in the walkway. Ducking as a Hufflepuff accidentally zoomed a piece of fruit towards her head. Stepping adroitly through the tables and towards Professor Dumbledore.

And all the time with her eyes closed.

Mahou Amberstone had spent the next few days alone. She avoided everyone. She didn't speak a word unless she was spoken to, and even then it was quick and to the point. She didn't even look all oogly-eyed at Snape during, or even not during, class. When someone would try to attempt pleasant conversation, she would just skirt around them and keep walking, her eyes never meeting theirs, her mouth never forming a smile nor a frown. Just a straight line.

Sitting at breakfast didn't seem to change the half-elf's mood either. As she sat by herself, she read her potions book, absently eating a slice of white bread. She felt programmed.. empty.

She glanced up at the new girl and saw that she was in Ravenclaw. Looking back to her book, Mahou twitched her left ear. She stopped wearing hats, though no one really asked her about the elves. She was a bit shocked at that, but didn't let it show.

Mahou had not been sleeping well since the forest incident, and it showed. She was not her cheery self, her eyes were glassy more often than not, and her frame was more willowy. She had not been eating, either.

Looking up, Mahou saw a pretty Merlin hawk swoop down and deposit a letter on her plate. She knew where the Merlin hawk was from. The elves had written her.

Letting the potions book drop, Mahou tore open the letter. Inside was a fluid language: Elfin.

"Mahou, dearest friend,

It is I, Uiliam. I know it has been a long while since I have written, considering I have not written at all, eh? Well, I just wanted to tell you that it is going great here at the school. I hope your human school is good, too. I hope those humans have not gotten you down too far, eh? It would be hard to bring you back up.

Have you made the Quidditch team? I wish that your old school could play your new one. I remember you telling me all about your Quidditch practising. I do not think you made Seeker, though, did you? Humans seem to want to keep the good positions to their own kind. Selfish, I think.

Anyway, please write back. I have sent StraightFeather with a letter to your Headmaster as well. I do hope he gets it. But do not worry about what is on that letter. It is not for you to know, dear one.

Until.

Uiliam Sparkstone"

Setting the letter down, Mahou did see the merlin hawk drop something off at the Headmaster, just as the new student was walking up to him. She grimaced and read the letter several more times. There was a photo included.

It was of Uiliam.. in all his Elfin glory. His blonde hair was wavy and fell to the small of his back, his grey eyes shone with love and friendship. He wore nacy breeches and a white shirt with flared sleeves. His knee-high boots were tied up and into a bow. There he was.. leaning against a willow tree next to a lake.. Mahou's favourite haunt. Tears slipped down her face as Mahou realised just how much she missed her home.

The letter to the Headmaster plopped gently into his lap, its lavender ink glittering lightly. The merlin hawk screeched and flew away, beating its wings.

"Headmaster, most esteemed Professor,

I am Uiliam Sparkstone, an Elf that lives in Ireland. I am requesting a short visitation so that I might see just what is taught at your school. One Mahou Amberstone was previously left in my care while not at Cerrydwin's, since her parents lived in the town anyway, one Mahou Amberstone spent much time with me and my kind.

I hope that you will allow me to visit. I am just a curious man wishing to find out about other ways. I await your letter.

Best Wishes and Regards,

Uiliam Sparkstone"

Dumbledore read the letter through and pondered its contents.

He wondered whether allowing the visit would be a good thing. It might brighten Mahou up some but then again it might make her feel more estranged from her fellow students. Would the elf be disrespectful to the other students? That might make Mahou feel good about herself for a while but in the long run? It was a hard call.

He looked briefly towards the Gryffindor table and Mahou. Then he came to a decision. The hawk had flown away, else Dumbledore would have sent a reply with it. He took a quill and wrote a short note.

"Greetings Uiliam Sparkstone,

We should be happy for you to visit Hogwarts as our guest and for you to meet once more with your friend, Mahou Amberstone. I await your coming with great gladness. I am sure you will enjoy learning more of our ways and that our students will enjoy having the opportunity to meet you.

Yours in Light,

Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster"

He whistled gently for a school owl to attend him to carry the letter and smiled warmly in Mahou's direction.

*******

Anders cracked one eyelid open suspiciously. There was light filtering in through a small window that he was moderately certain wasn't his own. He closed the eyelid again.

A few moments later, both eyes sprang open and he realised, with something of a shock, that he was, in fact, laying on the sofa in Albus Dumbledore's study. He was fully clothed, although someone had kindly seen fit to remove his bike boots.

He sat bolt upright and stared wildly around. What was he doing here? Then he remembered.

Yesterday evening he had come up to the school to take his regular lesson with Dumbledore. He had been tired. Very tired. His time was so packed these days. Full days of work followed by full evenings of lessons followed by full nights of studying had left him close to exhausted. Evidently he'd fallen asleep and Dumbledore had chosen not to wake him.

That meant he would be late for work.

Anders began to panic a little, swinging his legs off the sofa and getting to his feet, pulling his motorbike boots on and running a hand across his stubbled jaw. He hated being late. It was just as he was about to sprint out of the Headmaster's study when he saw the note addressed to himself.

"Anders,

Trust you slept well. Please join me for breakfast when you awaken. I have made some arrangements for you. Do not worry about Dmitri, I have already spoken with him. Look forward to seeing you at breakfast.

Albus Dumbledore."

He read the note a few times then ran a hand through his bed-hair, trying to flatten it a little. He looked scruffy and more than a little rough around the edges, but the panic began to subside a little, and he made his way down to the Great Hall to hear what the Headmaster had to say.

Severus Snape looked up as he entered the room and sneered a little derisively at the sight of the tired-looking, unshaven young man, but there was a fleeting hint of concern in the expression, which Anders took to be a figment of his own overwrought imagination. He gave the Potions Master a polite nod and headed towards Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled at Anders and gestured for him to come and sit by him. "Come and eat lad.... I trust you received my note. I decided to take matters into my own hands so you are now under both your mentors' orders to relax!"

He noted the entrance of the new student. "Ah, Miss Donnegal has arrived.... don't go to far there a few matters we need to discuss."

He watched Niamh's progress admiring her skill in negotiating what must be an unfamiliar space. As she drew near the staff table he hailed her, "Miss Donnegal. Welcome to Hogwarts."

His voice felt protective. That was what she thought: he is one to protect. Good quality in a headteacher. As long as - She'd had the argument with her father, more then once. She didn't want to go to any place that she was coddled. She's stood up for herself before. She hated the fact that she was always their "little blind girl" who needed to be protected.

So she drew herself up to her full height, and although her eyes were closed, she faced Dumbledore and seemed to be looking him in the eye. "Sir, I believe that I was to be sorted into one of the houses?"

"Yes, indeed." said Dumbledore. "It is normal for those joining us later in the year to be sorted privately rather than in the ceremony we reserve for the First Years at the First Night Feast."

He got up, "So, if you would like to accompany me, we can see to your sorting so that you can be introduced to your Housemates before the first class of the day."

Niamh nodded in his direction, and followed as Dumbledore stepped away, trying to hear his footfalls softly. He had got up - she was sure of that, the noise was unmistakable - but what about the sounds behind her?

When Dumbledore started to move away, she followed silently and attentively. She had to.

Dumbledore led Niamh into the side room, where awaited the stool and Sorting Hat

"Miss Donnegal, about a half a dozen paces in front of you is a stool. If you would sit upon it, I shall place the Sorting Hat upon your head and your House will be determined."

He waited for the girl to get her bearings.

********

After a couple weeks of hectic schedules and many near accidents, Ali strode quickly into the Great Hall, ready for the morning meal. Unfortunately for Hailey, Ali had not quite forgiven her for the incident in the library, and had spoken very little to her except when forced to. She sat down at the end of the table, hoping that Hailey wouldn't spot her amongst the first years.

Unfortunately for Ali, Hailey sat down next to her not more than two seconds later, holding a book and a plain paper bag. The book was unusual to begin with, as Hailey rarely studied outside of class, and the sack was even stranger. "What's up?" she said cheerfully, and began spooning scrambled eggs onto her plate.

Ali nearly groaned, but she didn't want to start rumours amongst the first years about their disagreement. So instead, she silently continued eating her food, hoping Hailey would have the common courtesy to get the hint.

"Well, I found that book you thought was interesting. It took me a few weeks, but I finally recognised the cover," she said smugly, and passed Ali the item. She then rummaged around in the sack and came up with two bottles of brand-new ink, a beautiful eagle quill, and a handful of smooth parchment rolls. "And I know you're kind of mad about that alchemy essay, so I got you some new supplies." She shrugged. "I've had them for about a week, but I didn't want to give them to you until I'd found the book."

Ali looked at the supplies with shock. She never had such a nice quill before. Realising how boring it was not talking to Hailey, and how she probably wouldn't have enjoyed Alchemy even if she was able to take it, she gave her friend her first smile in weeks. "I-I-I didn't think you cared that much about my interests," Ali stammered.

"Of course I care!" Hailey exclaimed. "And I'm really sorry about the essay. I even talked to McGonagall about it, but she said she couldn't do anything since it's Snape's class. So I tried to talk to him, too." A mischievous grin twitched at the corners of her mouth. "No one can say I'm not persistent."

Ali grinned back, hoping that would encourage her friend to do the same. "Only a true friend would risk like and limb in the face of a tiger...or snake." Ali watched the new girl come in, surprised that her eyes appeared closed! Figuring that she was most likely dreaming, she looked back to Hailey, and added nonchalantly, "So, did you take a look at the book?"

"I didn't even read the title," Hailey admitted sheepishly. "I was too busy trying to find it."

Ali laughed and placed the book on the table, opening it to the title page. Hailey sneezed at the dust that rose from its yellowed pages. Ali paused, then read aloud, "Magical theatre: A guide to the development of the performance."

"How is that any different from normal theatre?" Hailey asked. Being the daughter of Muggle parents, she wasn't very knowledgeable of the nuances of wizard culture.

"Oh, right, you've only seen Muggle plays. I've never seen a Muggle play myself, but I have seen a couple of our world. They are very exciting. For example, all our sets our made out of highly detailed illusions. Also, we don't use... um, what is the word for things that are fire-less candles?" She inquired.

"Lights," Hailey prompted. "That's weird, I can't imagine a play without techies. They do have actors, right?" She thought she knew the answer to that one, but it never hurt to be thorough.

"Actors? Yes the actors are real. What is a tek-ie?" She asked. She usually was embarrassed to ask questions, but felt comfortable doing so to Hailey.

"They're the people who make sure the play runs smoothly, they're in charge of the lights and sound effects, among other things." Hailey sneezed again. "No wonder this book is never read – we don't even have a theatre, let alone a drama department!"

"Oh, those, we have those, but they are not called tek-ies, they are called preserves, short for preservators, It's there job to change sets, and lights, and sounds, and other effects during a show. It's their job to also preserve the sets, lights, etc., and make sure the audience or the actors or something else doesn't screw them up." Ali corrected. "It is too bad that we don't have a drama department, however," she added, and then sighed softly, and picked up a slice of toast.

"Why don't we have one?" Hailey persisted. "I thought all schools had theatres. Isn't it an unwritten law or something?"

Ali just shrugged, her mouth full of eggs.

"I think we should start one." Hailey's blunt statement caused Ali to look up in surprise. "Well, why not? The athletes have their Quidditch, and the academics get a theatre. It's only fair."

"Wait a minute; you can't just start a theatre program." Ali was shocked at the suggestion. "Even if we were to have one, we'd have to plan it out first! You don't want to go running into it like some kind of Gryff...well, maybe you do, but still, it has to be researched. And that will take up time and we've got classes and homework and..." Her whining trailed off as she realised that her refusal was only egging Hailey on; this was going to be lots more work than she bargained for.

"Well, yeah, we'd have to plan it out and everything," Hailey said dismissively. "And I'm not saying we have to do it right now. But it's a good idea." She didn't miss her friend's exasperated sigh. Growing impatient, she crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively. "Well, what do you suggest we do, wait around for someone else to do it for us?"

Ali responded to Hailey, "No, we don't have to do that. I'm going to read this, and see if the library has any other books on this stuff. I love art!" Ali sighed, thinking that she might enjoy this. She really wanted to be an artist, but her parents weren't at all for it.

"I noticed that," Hailey said. "Hey, what's our next class?"

"You'd think after a couple weeks, you realise the schedule. It's History of Magic." She said as she quickly finished her breakfast.

Hailey clutched her heart dramatically and said, "I was lost without you." She then burst into giggles, but sobered up when her elbow hit a glass of grapefruit juice and spilled it all over the table. "Well, actually, that's kind of true. I know where I'm going, I just don't know when or why I'm going."

Ali threw her napkin at the spill, and put her new supplies away in her book bag before they were ruined. Then she proceeded to help clean up the mess.

Hailey yelped and rescued her notebook from the expanding puddle, wiping a few drops off the cover with her sleeve. "Oops. Sorry about that." She shouldered her book bag and used the last of the napkins to soak up the remaining liquid. "Ready?"

"Yes, I think so, let me stick a couple roles in my bag for brain food." Ali replied, as she put the fresh bread in bags. She usually nibbled on them when the professor of History wasn't looking to keep herself awake. Ali put her book bag on her shoulder, and ignored the looks she received from the first years. "Hey, can we go to the library before hand? I want to see if I drew the forest correctly."

Hailey rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right, because maybe you forgot a pebble in there somewhere." She held up her hands in defeat. "Fine, fine...I need to do my history homework anyway." The two of them made their way down the aisle, with Hailey in the front. As she rummaged through her bag for parchment for the essay due next period, her fountain pen clattered to the ground unnoticed.

Ali was straggling behind, making sure she was in working order, and shouted to her long-legged friend to wait up. She rushed toward her, when she stepped on the pen, lost her footing, and fell right between a sleepy looking 2nd year and an idle looking fourth year from the Hufflepuff table, food spilling everywhere.

Hailey stopped, turned around, and clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh dear."

Ali slowly lifted her hand from the stack of syrup-covered pancakes that it had landed in. She was so shocked at what had occurred that she couldn't even stammer an apology to the unsuspecting Hufflepuffs that she had tumbled upon.

Hailey picked up her fountain pen and inspected its now-cracked casing closely. Realisation spread across her face and she looked a little contrite as she reached out a hand to help Ali up.

Ali took Hailey's hand with an egg-filled one of her own as she tried to push herself up with the other syrup-covered one. People were now beginning to complain loudly, and snickers were coming from the Slytherin table.

Hailey winced as the eggs squished between her fingers and took a step back, trying to gain some leverage to haul Ali to her feet. As she did so, her foot landed in a puddle of butter, and she waved her arms wildly in an attempt to regain her balance, spraying a full bowl of corn flakes all over herself.

Ali yelped and fell on top of her friend, hand still stuck to the pancakes. By this time, the Slytherins weren't the only ones laughing. Ali said timidly, "Maybe it would be a good time for us to leave."

"Understatement of the year," Hailey grumbled as she pushed Ali off of her and got to her feet. By this time both girls were beet red, and they grabbed their books and quickly made their way out of the Great Hall, heads down.

**********

Arcadia had been busy sorting out the Cheer Leading Squad. Although on official post of 'Head Cheerleader' existed, As far as Arcadia was concerned it was her And for their sake she hoped no one disagreed!

So far just Herself and Oriana were on the squad, so she needed more people.

She pinned the notice to the board :

"Attention all.

If you wish to be part of the best Cheerleading Squad in the whole world come and speak to Arcadia Fudge and she will interview you. Only pretty girls need apply"

She smiled at a job well done and continued into breakfast, finding a seat at the Slytherin table. (If Oriana and Carina are there, then next to them)

She looked up as Anders entered "Grimalkin's looking a bit 'dishy' today. I wonder if he's still under the spell of that Hawkwood Brat?" She picked up a slice of bread and started to butter it. Pan sat by her side, looking around.

He had not had another chance to speak to Nathaniel since their discussion in the dungeons, but nobody had run screaming from him. This, Piotr took as a sign that his newly-found acquaintance - he could not yet bring himself to think of Nathaniel as a friend - had been true to his word and had not mentioned his vampirism to anyone else.

Slouching in his inimitable style into the Great Hall, he sat down at the Slytherin table, fixing Arcadia Fudge with a cool look of indifference and smiling sweetly at Carina. He took great pleasure out of winding that one up.

He noted that the Quidditch coach was back in school again and wondered idly if this meant his classmates would do nothing but talk about the sport. Not being the outdoorsy type, Piotr found the constant yammering about Quidditch dull and irritating.

Aidan Smyth had been enjoying his first few weeks of teaching. Many of the students had been fascinated by his array of ancient finds. There had of course been a couple of incidents where a few Slytherin 1^st years had tried to steal one of the more interesting objects. They had spent a few days in the infirmary and the object was quickly returned.

In fact Aidan had a new item to add to his collection. Not the one he had set out to find last weekend, but a good find none the less. It was an ancient sword used in ritual ceremonies. Dumbledore had caught him as he returned to school with it, brandishing it at some of the students. The students in question had been terrified and had run away. He had been dragged away to Dumbledore's office looking like a naughty student: his shirt torn and missing one sleeve, cuts across his arms and rips in his trousers. His hat had been particularly dusty, although not damaged, and he had left a trail of dust as he walked through the school. This, of course, had not done anything to get him in the good books with Filch or the house elves.

As he sat at breakfast he was keeping his eyes open for Niki. She had after all brought some runes to his attention that might be related to something he was now investigating. On his last expedition he had encountered a tablet that suggested the location of a valuable hammer. He wanted to know if there was a connection, and if she had found out anymore about those runes. More to the point he wanted to find the source she had been working from!

Niki buttered her toast methodically, starting from the upper left corner and progressing down the left side, then starting up at the top again little bit over. The first-years were occupied with flicking marmalade at each other, and Niki had to lick a fleck off her lips. "Marmalade," she muttered. "If God had meant us to have orange jam, He wouldn't have made strawberries."

Niki looked around, to see if there were any seats out of the way of marmalade fights, and caught Professor Smyth's eye. He seemed to be beckoning her... She picked up her bag and toast, and made her way up.

Marvo walks in with Kat by his side "And so I said to the Firsty "No no It's LevOsar. Not LevioSAR."

Kat just smiled. "Did they get it right after that?" She asked

"I don't know, they said they had to go. Some important meeting or something.. hm.. Seemed to be in a hurry to leave" He shrugged.

Kat giggled a little and tried to hide it. She could imagine how Marvo would have seemed to such young students.

"So, what's our first lesson today"? He asked quickly changing the subject

"History of Magic. Can't you remember?"

"You know the old ghost who goes on and on," she teased

Marvo Smiled "Oh yes. I remember when I need to, but something I forget to"

"Old Ghost? you mean...." Finally the idea he might be going on a bit himself sunk in and he smiled.

Kat fell quiet daydreaming a little. She had spent some of the early mornings over at the Quidditch field putting in the extra hours. She had been trying to work out some of the more tricky manoeuvres, and one in particular was proving harder than she thought. She was trying to work out what she had been doing wrong, and did not realise that Marvo was watching her daydream with interest.

Marvo saw Kat seemed to be in a world of her own for a moment and could guess what it was about. "Quidditch?" He asked

"Humm?" Kat turned to see what he was saying, brought out of her revere

"I assume your thinking about Quidditch? I saw you practising this morning. Looks good to me. I don't think you have anything to worry about." Marvo took Kat's hand and gives it a squeeze

"I hope so" said Kat

"I know so! Anyway, lets eat I'm starving and there's an apple or two with my name on them" He gave a little sigh as the smell of bacon hit him.

Kat nodded and headed for a table.

**********

Raphael stood on the stairs down from the Ravenclaw Common room, and peered into the hall hesitantly. It wasn't that he was worried about joining the others. Nope, he told himself, he just didn't want to be run into by mad Gryffindor guys running about. Their pace of life just wasn't fun.

His shoulder ached too much to have it run into again.

He'd practised a bit on the broom, after the Monday of the trials, scared about his physical condition. He didn't know what had gone wrong with his shoulder, or how, but he did know that he had to work it back into condition.

His Keeper practice involved hours a day using broomstick as a gymnasts pole, sometimes flying and improving his speed and manoeuvring in mid air, but mostly just working his muscles back into condition by finding a tree or the broom or any pole swinging around it endlessly, twisting, dropping grabbing with his left hand, all that, until he couldn't do more and lay on the ground a sweaty and bloody mass of pain.

And the work. Spells still didn't do much, although he'd managed to get his wand once or twice to do strange things. In a duelling lesson, when one of the Slytherins had blasted him with an offensive spell for a second time (the first with the other students having to peel him off the Slytherin: he'd forgotten to use his wand and instead tried to punch the other fourth year) he'd done something strange, although he hadn't seen it. Apparently he'd lifted the other student off the ground and threw him against a wall. It won the duelling practice, but then, he thought the teacher didn't like him now.

And his eyes were grey underneath from lack of sleep. Too many hours practising and reading tomes that he'd fallen into a dank sleep many times, sometimes so exhausted he hadn't remembered parts of the night before, although occasionally the study stuck.

Occasionally. Today was History (urgh) Runes (still not great) and Duelling. He tested his shoulder with one hand. It had better stick together today. So, with the coast clear, he wandered down, and joined the other Ravenclaw Fourth Years at his table.

"Hey....Raphael come sit." Sarah patted an empty seat beside her.

She was worried about him though she tended not to show it overtly. He seemed haunted since that night in the woods and he was pushing himself hard in his studies.