Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin

"What did you make of that?" Harry asked Ron as they sat in the common room. They were preparing to work on their essays for Professor Binns about the Wizards' Council, the body which governed the wizarding world before the Ministry of Magic was formed.

Ron looked up from his textbook. "Well," he began, and paused to think. "Last year the Daily Prophet reports that someone conjured the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup. Then last term Dumbledore announces to the school that You-Know-Who is back." He shrugged. "People are scared, I guess."

Harry didn't follow. "But what does that have to do with the fight back there?"

Ron looked at him. "Harry, think about it. If everyone is worried about You-Know-Who, the Slytherins become unpopular by association. That's how it was before--you know, before..." Ron trailed off, suddenly very interested in retrieving a roll of parchment from his backpack. Harry knew what Ron was thinking. Before my parents were killed, he thought.

Ron added, "At least that's what my dad says."

Harry considered this. Now that Ron mentioned it, he realized that, in the corridors and classrooms, there were more dirty looks and insults aimed at the Slytherins than usual. Even more than in his second year.

"Almost makes you feel sorry for them," he mumbled.

Ron snorted. "Well, Malfoy won't mind. He'll eat it up. Already thinks he's above all the rest of us." He found the parchment and set it out on the table. "Come on, we only have a couple hours before we have to meet Green outside."

***

That evening's run around the lake with Professor Green produced the fifth-years' best times yet. Professor Green nodded approvingly at each student as he or she finished the run. True to his word, Harry ran as hard as he could--even lapping Neville--and finished far ahead of Dean, who came in second. Malfoy had apparently resigned himself to running with the rest of the students, although no amount of yelling by Professor Green could make him take on a more-than-leisurely pace.

After their usual cool-off walk around the lawn, the fifth-years shuffled up the steps into the castle and filed into the Great Hall for dinner. Just as they had the previous week, they each went to their respective House tables, and Professor Green walked up to the empty staff table. But before she had reached her seat, she turned around, struck by a sudden thought.

"This is stupid!" she said. "There aren't many of us here--why don't we all have dinner together?" She grabbed a few serving dishes from the staff table, carried them over to the Slytherin table, and sat down.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other. "Do we have to?" Ron grumbled. But each student picked up a place setting and a serving dish full of food and carried them over to the Slytherin table. They all sat down and began to eat.

Once they were seated together, the students realized that they didn't mind sitting with the other Houses--in fact, they rather preferred it. At the end of the table, Professor Green laughed at a joke Ernie Macmillan was telling. Ron struck up a conversation with Padma Patil--to Hermione's great annoyance, Harry noticed.

After they had eaten, Professor Green produced an acoustic guitar and, quite unexpectedly, began playing. She taught them a very old wizard folk song, sung in a round, and even managed to convince most of the students to sing along. A few Slytherins, however--including Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle--slipped off to their common room.

No one kept track of the time, and because they were having so much fun chattering and singing, they remained in the Great Hall until very late. At midnight, Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Snape, and Flitwick suddenly appeared in the door, looking very tired and, in Professor McGonagall's case, irritated. Professor Green didn't notice them at all until Professor McGonagall spoke to her quite sternly.

"Persephone! Would you mind relinquishing our students for the night? It is very late, after all!"

Professor Green looked up from her guitar, startled. She grinned sheepishly and nodded. "Oh, I am sorry, Minerva! What time is it, anyway?" She turned to the students around the table. "You had all better be getting back to your dormitories. Really," she looked back up at the Heads of the Houses standing in the doorway to the entrance hall, "I am sorry."

Professor McGonagall's face softened at this, and she nodded forgivingly. In fact, none of the teachers really seemed angry at Professor Green, and they all smiled--except for Snape, who didn't so much smile as fail to scowl. Everyone got up from the table, and the teachers walked the students off to their respective common rooms and ordered them to bed.

***

The last week of September, Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in the first Quidditch game of the year. The whole school had turned out to watch, of course. Harry noticed that Cho Chang had improved markedly in her position as Ravenclaw Seeker; she appeared to have acquired a new broom, a Nimbus Three Thousand, which gave her a great deal more speed than when she had played against Harry two years before.

"It's no Firebolt," Ron had commented as he sat next to Harry in the stands, "but still, Harry, looks like she'll give you a bit more competition this year."

"Uh-huh." Harry hadn't told Ron that he wasn't watching Cho strictly to assess her performance as Seeker, but Ron had snickered at Harry's glazed look anyway.

Now, in the second week of October, after a month of practice, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was preparing to face Slytherin. Just before the game, the team sat in the locker room and listened as Angelina, who had been elected captain, addressed them.

"It's going to be a difficult game for us," she began. She paced back and forth before them, much like Oliver Wood had done two years before. "Slytherin has three new players, and they're all strong--Price is as good a Beater as I've ever seen at Hogwarts."

Fred and George frowned.

"Still," she said, ignoring them, "we've got the best Seeker in the school!" She smiled at Harry. "Harry, you know what to do."

Harry wasn't nervous. He had faced Draco Malfoy on the Quidditch field before, and Malfoy had always failed to catch the Golden Snitch. Harry nodded back at Angelina.

"Alright then! We've worked hard for this. Let's show the Slytherins how Quidditch is played!"

Energized, the team took the field. As they walked to the center of the Quidditch pitch, they could hear the yells of the entire school assembled in the stands. The Gryffindor team lined up opposite the Slytherins. Angelina had been right; they had three new players, but they were just as big as the Slytherins whom they had replaced. Harry glanced down the line at Ginny; she looked unusually small standing on the field next to Angelina, and across from a particularly burly seventh-year with broken front teeth. Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry maliciously.

"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch called, placing a silver whistle in her mouth. Staring fixedly, Angelina shook hands with Adam Price, the Slytherin team captain.

Suddenly Madam Hooch blew the whistle, and fifteen broomsticks and four balls flew up into the air. The Golden Snitch disappeared almost immediately. The Slytherin Keepers caught the Quaffle first, and instantly flew toward the Gryffindor goal hoops. They got there almost before Ginny was able to take her position.

"And Zabini shoots--no! The Quaffle is knocked away by the Gryffindor Keeper." As they zoomed around the field, the players could hear Lee Jordan commenting from the stands.

Katie caught the Quaffle and headed toward the Slytherin goal. Harry decided to take up a position above Ginny, and keep an eye out for the Snitch. As usual, Malfoy followed him at a distance. Harry knew what to do. Malfoy's Nimbus Two Thousand and One wasn't nearly as fast as Harry's Firebolt. Harry would need only spot the Snitch first; getting to it before Malfoy was going to be easy.

"Oooh! Very rough collision there ... And Zabini is called for blatching. Penalty shot to Gryffindor."

Harry looked down. Katie appeared to be composing herself after a particularly hard hit from a Slytherin Chaser. "I'm alright," she told a concerned Angelina. Katie took the penalty shot, and scored.

"That's ten points to Gryffindor! Slytherin zero." Lee's tone very thinly veiled his excitement.

"Slytherin in possession. Hunt passes to Norton. Norton takes the shot--oooh! Price nearly takes the Gryffindor Keeper's head off!" Lee announced angrily. The Slytherin Beater had moved into the scoring area and, on the pretense of hitting the Bludger toward Ginny, swung his bat very close to her head.

"Slytherin scores! No penalty called." Lee paused meaningfully. "That's Gryffindor ten, Slytherin ten."

Harry looked around. Still no sign of the Snitch. Malfoy circled below him, and above Ginny.

"Gryffindor in possession, and--no! The Quaffle is taken by Zabini. He closes in on the goal, and--oh my God!" The alarm in Lee's voice was matched by fearful cries from the spectators as a Slytherin Beater hit a Bludger at Ginny's head from close range just as Blaise Zabini attempted to score.

"Nice Sloth Grip Roll by Weasley, and the Bludger misses her. But Zabini scores. That's Slytherin twenty, Gryffindor ten."

Alicia took the Quaffle, and a Slytherin Chaser promptly smashed into her head-on.

"Norton's called for blatching; that stinking rat--alright, sorry, Professor--that's another penalty shot for Gryffindor!"

Alicia lined up to take the shot, but she was still shaken up from the collision. She missed.

Finally Harry understood. The Slytherin team knew they couldn't beat Gryffindor fairly--it was clear that Malfoy was no match for Harry when it came to catching the Golden Snitch. Their only chance was to play rough, and score as many times with the Quaffle as possible. They were going to try to get so far ahead in points that, no matter who caught the Snitch, they would win. Harry wondered whether they had gotten this idea from last year's Quidditch World Cup.

True to Harry's prediction, what followed was the roughest game of Quidditch that Hogwarts had seen in two hundred years. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie took a total of nine penalty shots, seven of which they missed because they were so badly hurt or shaken up from the fouls themselves. Five times Ginny narrowly avoided being hit by a Beater's bat. Harry noticed that Fred and George had, in turn, become quite careless about swinging their bats near the Slytherin Beaters' heads.

"That's Slytherin ahead, one hundred ninety to thirty." Lee's voice had gone beyond angry and now sounded genuinely worried. Angelina signaled for time out.

"Okay," she whispered, trying to catch her breath. She had just been smacked by a Slytherin Chaser's broom, and her forehead was bleeding. "New plan. Just stay alive. Harry, if you see the Snitch, catch it. Before someone gets killed."

Harry could hardly believe his ears. Oliver Wood would have told him just the opposite--in fact, in Harry's third year, he had told him to "get the Snitch or die trying."

George protested: "Angelina! We can't let them win! Especially not like this." Fred and Katie nodded in agreement. Harry, Ginny, and Alicia remained silent--Angelina's plan made a lot more sense to them.

"Listen to me, George. You're not the one getting bumped around out there. I know--it's not your fault," she headed him off as he started to interrupt, "but you can only defend us from Bludgers, you can't keep their Chasers off us all the time. And Ginny's getting eaten alive out there. I know this is probably exactly what they want us to do, but this game is just not worth risking our lives."

Madam Hooch's whistle signaled that play was resuming. The players took their places again.

"And Spinnet has the Quaffle. She passes to Bell, and--Bell scores!" Harry's heart leapt. Slytherin was exactly a hundred and fifty points ahead now--if he caught the Snitch, they could end in a tie game.

Malfoy glanced at him and seemed to be thinking the same thing. He shot Harry an angry look, and then glanced down at Ginny. The Slytherin Chasers were closing in with the Quaffle, despite the best efforts of Fred, George, and the Gryffindor Chasers to hinder them. The Slytherin Chasers broke away from Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, and approached Ginny. Malfoy watched all of this, grinned up at Harry, and dove.

Harry realized what Malfoy was going to do a split second before he had done it. It was illegal for more than one Chaser to enter the scoring area -but the Seeker was allowed anywhere on the field. On the pretense of having seen the Snitch, Malfoy dove headlong toward the spot where Ginny hovered, focused on the approaching Chaser.

"Ginny! Look out!" Harry screamed as he tore downward after Malfoy. But Malfoy was bearing down on her. She turned upward, saw him for a split second, and dodged out of the way. Instead of hitting her head, Malfoy's broom tore into her shoulder. She clung to her broom and was sent spinning.

"Norton scores! And ..." Lee stopped. For the first time in as long as anyone could remember, he was speechless.

Instantly, the crowd grew completely silent. Later, Harry could remember thinking how amazing it was that so many people gathered in such a small space could produce so little sound as that crowd did at that moment.

Ginny spun to a stop a short distance above the field. Harry flew over to her. She pulled her left hand away from her right shoulder, and Harry saw that it was covered in blood.

"Are you alright?" he called. She looked up at him, then past him, and gasped. Harry turned around.

Behind him, Draco Malfoy held up the Golden Snitch in triumph.

The only ones cheering Slytherin's win were the Slytherins themselves. The rest of the school--Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs alike- were yelling angrily.

Lee Jordan had found his voice again.

"The Slytherin Seeker nearly impales the Gryffindor Keeper! Disgusting, slimy, pathetic piece of trash! You low-life ..."

But Harry and Ginny were distracted from Lee's tirade. They were watching Malfoy, who was so caught up in flaunting his first-ever catch of the Golden Snitch that he didn't see George flying toward him from behind. George dropped his bat onto the field, flew beside Malfoy and punched him -hard--in the face. Stunned, Malfoy dropped the Snitch and flew to the ground, followed by the rest of the Slytherin and Gryffindor team members.

"George, no!" Ginny cried hoarsely--obviously she was still in pain- but it was too late. A full-fledged fight had broken out on the Quidditch field. First it was Fred and George on Malfoy, then three more Slytherins came to Malfoy's defense. Angelina tried to break it up, but was pushed aside by Norton, who rushed to join the fray.

The next thing Harry knew, pandemonium had broken out. Spectators were crowding onto the field, attempting to rescue Fred and George by beating the Slytherin team members. Fists flew as angry shouts filled the air. Harry turned to Ginny.

"We've got to get out of here!"

"But Fred and George!" she cried. "We can't just leave them!"

Just then a blinding flash of light pierced the din. Harry could barely make out the gleaming white beard of Albus Dumbledore in the midst of the crowd.

It took the faculty several minutes--and many more flashes of light, along with a few Stunning spells--to put an end to the havoc. An hour later, both Quidditch teams and several spectators found themselves in the hospital wing, being treated for bruises, cuts, scrapes, and in Ginny's case, a broken collarbone.

***

The next morning at breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione received an owl from Hagrid inviting them over for tea that afternoon. It was a bright but chilly Sunday. On the ceiling of the Great Hall, the sun poked out from behind puffy clouds pushed along by a brisk wind.

"Just as well," Ron answered after Harry had finished reading the note. "Don't feel much like practicing Quidditch today."

Hermione looked at him sympathetically but said nothing.

Everyone's injuries from the small-scale riot the day before had healed. Madam Pomfrey had fixed Ginny's collarbone within a couple of hours, and without causing any additional pain. But the rancor between Slytherin and the rest of the Houses wasn't so easily fixed, and the previous night's dinner in the Great Hall had been unusually quiet and tense. Hermione and Harry noticed that the slight depression that had beset Ron prior to the match had now been replaced with anger at Malfoy and, by association, all Slytherins.

At two o'clock that afternoon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set out for Hagrid's, relieved to have a break from their fellow students, from Quidditch--from anything reminding them of the events of the previous day.

"Hullo!" boomed Hagrid as he ushered them inside his hut. He seemed rather cheerful, a welcome change from the mood of the students inside the castle. Fang barked and jumped up on Harry, licking his ears.

"Down, Fang!" a woman's voice called from the little table. Harry looked over, startled. Sitting there, a cup of tea in her hand, was Professor Green.

"Perseph'ne's just dropped by to talk--we never did get properly caught up since she got here." Hagrid, tending the kettle, turned to the Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were still standing near the door. "Well, sit down then! Everyone'll have a bit o' tea, I 'spect? There's scones on the table."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione smiled and greeted Professor Green, then sat around the little table with her. Harry could see that she was covertly offering Fang half a scone under the table. Fang didn't seem interested.

"You're friends with Hagrid?" Harry asked Professor Green.

"Oh, yes. He's known me ever since I was very small, and we got to be good friends when I was in school here. It's been a while though, hasn't it Hagrid? When was the last time I saw you before September?"

"Oh, well," Hagrid's voice lowered, "I think it was the funeral."

"Oh. Right," Professor Green said, remembering. Her voice lowered, too, and Harry got the impression that she wished she hadn't brought it up.

"Perseph'ne's just been tellin' me how well yer all doin' in her class." Hagrid brought the kettle over to the table and sat down.

Professor Green refilled her teacup. "Chamomile, my favorite!" she said happily. She drank from her cup, and then spoke. "Yes, I've told him how hard you're all working. And he's been telling me how you're getting on with that Streeler out back."

"Oh," Hagrid put in sadly, "but he won't be with us fer long. I gotta give 'im back to Mister Fletcher. He was only on loan. But our next project," he winked at the three students, "that'll be a fun one, I promise!"

Hagrid reached down to pet Fang while Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged worried glances. Professor Green saw their faces. She chuckled to herself, but didn't speak.

"Were you both at the match yesterday?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, yes," responded Professor Green. "I had to Stun--what was it, Hagrid? Four students?"

Hagrid nodded. "Never seen anything like that," he added. "At least, not since the days o' You-Know-Who."

"Malfoy," Ron muttered, more to himself than to the others. "And those Slytherins. I really hate them." He looked up at Hagrid and Professor Green earnestly. His eyes were glistened with anger. "I mean it. They're all filthy worms. Never met a Slytherin I liked."

Professor Green was taken aback. "Oh," she answered tentatively. After a pause she added, "that's too bad. I had rather hoped you liked me."

Ron started. Harry and Hermione stared at Professor Green, mouths open.

"You? But you weren't! You couldn't be! I--we--we didn't know!" Ron sputtered.

Professor Green smiled and shook her head. "I thought you knew! I figured your father would have told you." But she could see the surprise in their faces. "Yes, I was. I was a Slytherin in my time here."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at her incredulously. "You were a Slytherin," Hermione said, as though trying to convince herself. "But how--I mean, you don't exactly seem the type, do you?"

Professor Green laughed out loud at this, as did Hagrid. "I'll take that as a compliment, Hermione." She stopped laughing and nodded pensively. "Well, I suppose I should explain then, shouldn't I?"

She drank deeply from her teacup and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then she opened them, and began.

"My mother's illness came on her very suddenly. One day she was fine, and the next, she could barely walk. My father and my grandfather--" she smiled at them, "Professor Dumbledore to you--they did everything they could. But there are some things that even the most powerful wizard in the world cannot cure. She wasn't sick very long before she died. I was nine years old.

"My mother and I had been very close, you understand. When she died, I became angry. At her, for leaving me; at my father, for letting her ... at everyone and everything. It didn't make sense, I know, but emotion rarely obeys reason." She stared at the wall over their heads as she spoke. Her eyes took on the faraway look of a person lost in remembering something. "Really, I was devastated. It was as though my world had collapsed around me. To have someone you care for so much taken from you," she looked down into her teacup, then up at them. "It was very painful.

"Then, I had a revelation. I determined that caring for her had been a mistake. After all, if I hadn't cared about my mother, I wouldn't have been so hurt by her death, would I? And I made a decision. I resolved that, from then on, I would care for nothing and no one but myself.

"I withdrew from my family, from my friends. I became ambitious- the only thing I cared about was becoming a powerful witch. I thought that would make me happy." She smiled a wry sort of half-smile. "Power and status. They became my focus. My goal.

"When I was eleven, I came to Hogwarts, of course. I'm not sure what I expected the Sorting Hat to tell me. I reckon I assumed it would put me in Ravenclaw, just as it had done with generations of Clearwaters before me. The Clearwaters have been Ravenclaws as far back as anyone can remember.

"But of course, the Sorting Hat knew me better than I knew myself, and it put me in Slytherin. I can still remember the hush that came over the Great Hall when it did. Do you remember, Hagrid?" she asked, turning to him. He smiled and nodded.

She continued. "You see, my family was well-known. And everyone knew I was Professor Dumbledore's granddaughter. This was shortly after the name of Lord Voldemort entered the public consciousness." Hagrid and Ron flinched as she said the name. "Sorry," she told them. "Anyway, it was widely known that he had been a Slytherin, along with most of his followers. There was a lot of talk about the fact that Albus Dumbledore's granddaughter had been Sorted into Slytherin, I can tell you. People weren't sure what to make of it.

"I was certain that I had disappointed my family. Mind you, my father never told me so, and now, looking back, I'm sure he never thought so. But at the time, I was certain that he was ashamed of me. Well, that's fine, I told myself, I don't care anyway. It just made me all the more determined not to care about anyone else, and especially about what they thought of me.

"When I was in my third year here, my father remarried. I wasn't happy about it, even though my stepmother was always very kind to me. I didn't want another mother. I just grew angrier, more self-centered, and more ambitious. I focused on my studies, determined to become as powerful as possible.

"Wow," whispered Hermione. "But you're not like that now. What happened?"

Professor Green smiled again. "Two things. First, when I was fifteen, my little sister was born. Penelope." She closed her eyes and laughed quietly to herself. "She was the cutest thing you ever saw! That little face, those tiny hands and feet! And the curly brown hair, just like her mother's." Professor Green shook her head. "Oh, I tried not to care about her. Tried very hard. Told myself that she didn't mean anything to me." She sighed. "But I couldn't help but love her. She was my sister, after all.

"But that in itself didn't change me. Alright, I thought to myself, one person, I can care about this one person, that's all. No one else matters to me. And I went on like that for a little while.

"But then I met a very odd Hufflepuff boy named Demetrius Green. And he did something I thought very rude at the time."

"What?" asked Ron.

Professor Green looked down at the table and smiled sheepishly. A hint of pink appeared on her cheeks. "He fell in love with me." She began to laugh to herself, a low, quiet laugh, full of warmth. "God only knows why, or what he saw in me. I was a selfish little thing--smart, but not much to look at, that's for sure. But he fell in love with me, just the same." She looked up from the table at them. "Later I would ask him why. Why he liked me, what made him notice me in the first place. But he would never answer--he would just laugh. I remember, it used to drive me batty.

"Of course, I didn't want a boyfriend. That was the last thing in the world I wanted! And I told him so. Oh, I was so mean to him! I must have told him to take a hike in a million different ways." Her eyes were wide, incredulous. "But he never did listen. He was always there, wherever I was--in the corridors, in the Great Hall, on the lawn, around the lake- followed me around constantly, trying to talk to me. Irritated me to no end!"

Harry was reminded of Colin Creevey. Professor Green sipped her tea. "Of course, I had no choice. There's no way I could've avoided falling in love with someone like that. And, in the end, I did."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were utterly perplexed. Professor Green grinned at them. "But you don't know what I'm talking about, do you? Well, don't worry, you will."

"Hold on a second," Hermione cut in. "What changed? I mean, how did you go from telling him to leave you alone to ... marrying him?"

"That's a good question." Professor Green paused thoughtfully. "I guess it was the night of the fight. Yes, I think that was it. This was just after the McKinnons were killed, and Margie McKinnon was a Gryffindor fifth-year then." She sighed, picked up her teacup and swirled it around in little circles. "I was unlucky enough to be found in the company of Oscar Travers and a few other Slytherins, walking back late from a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw that night. See, Oscar was the son of the Death Eater suspected of the McKinnons' murders."

She turned to Ron. "You may find this difficult to believe, Ron, but it was very tough to be a Slytherin back then. We were the social outcasts. Everyone was afraid of Vol--of the Dark Lord, and they were looking for someone to blame, someone to let their fears and frustrations out on. At Hogwarts, the Slytherins were their targets.

"That night, after that Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, we were ambushed by a gang of Gryffindors. Mostly they just wanted to beat Oscar, but they didn't hesitate to throw a few kicks and punches at the rest of us, either."

Ron gasped. "Gryffindors did that?"

Professor Green shot him the same probing look that she had given Harry in her office after his run. "You'd be surprised what people will do when they're afraid, and they're angry." Ron just stared back at her in disbelief.

"Anyway, we were outnumbered. I remember a couple of girls hitting me, and then, from out of nowhere, there he was. Demetrius. He got in the way--and caught a few blows, too, before those girls realized they were hitting a Prefect! Harry, your parents were there," she said, nodding at Harry. "They were Head Boy and Girl that year, I remember. I guess someone saw what was happening. They came down from the castle, along with Demetrius, and they broke it up. Took us all up to the hospital wing. I'll never forget it.

"I couldn't believe anyone would go to any trouble for a gang of Slytherins. Would have expected them to just leave us alone, pretend they hadn't seen anything. But they didn't.

"That's when I realized two things. One: that Demetrius was serious, he was for real. And two: that power and status were not going to make me happy. Not if I was cut off from everyone. I realized that, even if I became the most powerful witch in the world, if I didn't care enough to use my power to help anyone, it would be meaningless."

She looked down at her teacup again, and paused. "Demetrius taught me that. He taught me that there was more to life than power. That our lives should be defined by how we value people, not by how we can control them. Does that make any sense?" She peered across the table at them, narrowing her green eyes. Harry thought he was beginning to understand. Ron and Hermione nodded slowly.

When Professor Green spoke again, it was very quietly. "He saw something in me that I didn't know was there--something of value, completely independent of my talents, or my abilities, or my intelligence. I'll tell you kids the truth: he turned me back from the Dark Side. And ever since, I wanted to do the same for others. People who are like I was, once."

No one said anything more for a long time. They simply sat around the table, drinking their tea. Through the back window they watched the Streeler in the pumpkin patch, changing from a light salmon color to a deep royal blue.