Teen Wolf at Hogwarts

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***

- Crazy. - Stiles stretched out hoarsely, trying hard not to scream.

- That's for sure. - Martin nodded in agreement, exhaling a sigh of relief that you weren't the only one who knew someone's secret.

- He doesn't seem to know about it. - The boy whispered, automatically ruffling his already tousled hair.

- No one seems to know about it except the professors and Will's parents. Foster parents, I mean. - Martin added, crossing her arms across her chest.

- So what do we do now? - Stiles's eyes raced across his friend's face at a speed comparable to the speed of light.

- Tell him, what else? - Martin took a few decisive steps towards the door, but was caught by Stiles' hand.

- Wait, we need to think this through,' the boy shook his head.

- Stiles, what is there to think about? We can change everything! Do you realise what will happen to his fellow students when they find out the truth? They'll never speak to him again.

- Lydia, he might not take it the way we expect him to, you know? - The boy rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, still holding his friend's hand in his own.

- Stiles, we can help him,' Martin said softly, taking a step towards the boy, 'He needs to know the truth. How would you feel about a situation like this? I'm sure you would like to know everything as it is, and from the beginning and in detail. - Martin smiled at the corners of her lips and ran her hand through her friend's dishevelled hair, smoothing it lightly.

- What if we make it worse? Lydia, he opened up to me, told me how and where he lives, who his parents are, what his sister Enwen does and who Jim is. I don't want him to shut down again, never mind the fact that he's managed to find someone who won't turn his nose up at him, just me. He was abandoned by his own parents and his father wanted to kill him. Wouldn't you shut down if you were him?

- Stiles, we don't know what Miriam's reasons were for abandoning him. Maybe it was for his own protection, huh? And not telling him might be for the same reason.

- Then why don't we find out first, and then, if circumstances permit, tell him? - Stiles concluded. Lydia nodded in agreement, sighing, 'Will you find something without me, or do I have to run out of the hospital wing to help you? - The boy asked seriously, moving closer to the door.

- I can manage on my own, thank you. - Martin chuckled, stepping out into the corridor. - I'll go to the library now and see McGonagall if I need to. I think she'll help me. And then I'll come back to you, okay?

- No problem,' Stiles smiled and gave his friend a high-five and disappeared into the ward. Sighing quietly, Martin moved in the right direction.

- What was so scary? - Will asked, as soon as Stiles stepped into the room. Tim whimpered worriedly, looking at his master. Will's crypter, Jack, glanced blankly at the Gryffindor, the next second snuggling into the Slytherin's leg. The baby, by the way, was a very bright emerald colour.

- It's nothing, just a little problem with me not being in class. - Stilinski lied, waving his hand.

- Well, it's all right now, has it been sorted out? - Stiles was surprised at this change in the Slytherin's speech, but didn't let it show.

- Lydia can sort anything out,' Stilinski smiled, jumping onto his bed.

- Tell me something about her. Who else is in your company? You said something about some Malia and Scott. Who are they? - The brunet's questions came out in a rush, and Stiles was startled to wonder if the Slytherin had picked up the habit from him.

- Scott's my best mate. For as long as I can remember, he's been my best friend. I've known Leeds since the beginning of this year, though we've met at the occasional reception. You know, the Hales and the Whittemores and all the other slimeballs. We met Mal this year at Hogwarts, too. She's a muggleborn, like you,' the second part of the sentence was hard for the boy to say, but he didn't dare interrupt, 'So we had this story. - When Scott and I were no more than seven years old, we were sent to visit a Magle neighbour.

Stiles' story dragged on for nearly twenty minutes, and Will had forgotten all about the strange behaviour of the Gryffindor and his friend. But unfortunately, Stiles hadn't forgotten about it.

***

Digging through the stack of newspapers from eleven years ago, Lydia could only sneeze and curse quietly. It was as if the House elf wandered into the library every few years by accident. Madam Pince, seeing the girl's eagerness - Martin had been running from shelf to shelf as soon as she stepped into the library, paying no attention to the caretaker's indignation - had generously helped Lydia find the material she needed, but she hadn't been able to answer why the Gryffindor needed such old newspapers.

When she finally found the papers published around the middle of November, the girl resolutely picked up the first one. From the front page, a young brunette looked at Lydia with mad eyes. The once very handsome face was contorted with a grimace of horror and anger at the same time. His amber brown eyes were bloodshot, and his lips looked as if the young man chewed them occasionally for nothing.

Sighing convulsively, Lydia hurriedly turned the page. Sophie, squealing anxiously, climbed into her mistress's lap, tapping out a rhythm with her paw. Her soft green fur rippled with the movement of the air. Tucking a strand behind her ear, Lydia began to read.

'Guilty? Mad!

Yesterday, a crime occurred that shook the entire magical community of England and surrounding countries. Richard Brown, not unknown to many, made an attempt on his wife Miriam Brown and his only son William. On the tenth of June this year, the baby was a year old. The conducted tests did not confirm that Mr Brown was in an insane state, nor that the young wizard was affected by the Imperius spell. At the moment there is a struggle for Miriam Brown's life, but doctors assure that the girl's condition is improving by the minute. For further developments follow in our newspaper. '

As she finished reading, Lydia ran a trembling hand over the small photograph in the corner of the page. It depicted a beautiful brunette with a bright smile and cheerful sparkles in her warm honey eyes. On her lap, held by one hand of his mother, sat a boy. Shining with a smile worthy of any Hollywood star, the boy with an enviable hair for his age was holding on to his mother with one hand, and with the other he was showing something to someone who was probably out of the field of view of the lens. Even though the photograph was many years old, the slightly twitchy movements of the little hand were still evident.

Covering her eyes, Lydia sighed convulsively. What on earth had to have happened for a person to want to destroy their own family, one member of which had only recently turned a year old? Determined to pick up the next newspaper, Lydia saw, as she expected, the same picture on the front page as the previous one, only the headline was different.

'In sickness and in health?

The shocking event that took place yesterday in London is gaining momentum. As it was said yesterday, Miriam Brown, who was in the hospital, has coped with all the difficulties and now the young sorceress is no longer in danger. However, Miriam is still not allowed to see anyone except close relatives. Well, the opportunity to talk to the girl will come to us, so let's move on to more exciting details.

Just a few hours ago, the trial of Richard Brown, known to all as the Deputy Minister, was completed. Contrary to expectations, the man did not regret what he had done, even though he confessed. The hearing lasted an hour, but no matter how hard the judge tried, no mitigating circumstances were found. On top of this action, Mr Brown only said that in no case will apologise neither to his wife, nor to his son, nor to his relatives. But, contrary to his own words, he then expressed genuine joy that Miriam Brown was alive and well. In general, it was as if Mr Brown was saying something he didn't want to say, the exact opposite of what he was thinking. However, for those who only care about the outcome of this case, we can only say one thing - for the assassination attempt and further violent behaviour, Richard Brown is going to Azkaban for life. As unfortunate as it is, we have forever lost such a talented young man who helps wizards in difficult situations on a daily basis.'

It wasn't until ten seconds after reading the article that Lydia noticed she had crumpled the edge of the newspaper with her fingers. Hastily pulling her hand away, Martin started rubbing her temples, covering her eyes. It was getting more and more confusing by the minute. If Miriam was still alive and Brown was imprisoned in Azkaban, why would they give tiny Will to a Muggleborn? Why didn't Richard repent? Why did not regret, if in the photograph his eyes were full of horror and fear? There was only one answer left - there was another edition of the newspaper, perhaps explaining all further implications. Indeed, the next edition of the newspaper was indeed dedicated to Miriam and Will, for the front page featured the very photograph that Lydia had noticed at the very beginning. Turning the page, Martin's eyes widened, opening her mouth in a mute 'oh.'

'A thousand misfortunes.

Shocking news shook the entire magical world today. The unfortunate Miriam Brown died this morning while on her ward. According to doctors, the girl had asked to see her son, and as soon as a nurse obligingly went to fetch Brown Jr, the girl passed away without waiting to see him. If we are to believe the words of the obscurantists who visited the hospital, remarkably faint traces of the death spell were seen on the girl. What that means, I think you know without our commentary. The whole of England is mourning today with the loved ones of the deceased. For the future fate of William Brown, see us.'

Putting the papers aside at last, Martin closed her eyes with her hands. Trying to get more air into her lungs, the girl opened her mouth and closed it, shuddering all over her body. So that's what it was all about. When he found out that the girl had survived, Brown had simply decided to eliminate her, as witnesses were eliminated in the Muggle serials that Lydia's father had occasionally shown her as a child.

Sighing, Martin flipped through a few more newspapers, but there was no mention of the Browns, which was actually quite strange. A disaster like this can't be hushed up, in any case someone will revolt and bring the ministry to light. And who would cover for a former deputy who had already been sent to Azkaban? Thanking Madam Pince and leaving the stack of papers on the table, Martin left the library, feeling her lungs ache and her heart clench.

Yes, Stiles might have been right. This was not the kind of thing to tell. How would Will feel about it? He'd hate the whole wizarding world, especially Lydia and Stiles. In a situation like this, wouldn't it be better to stay in the dark? With so much information, his head began to buzz unpleasantly. The thunderous ringing echoed off the walls, intensifying by a factor of three.

Was it really only one class?

The stomping of students, echoing off the walls and ceiling, filled Hogwarts. Chatter, laughter, and swearing could be heard literally everywhere. On the first floor, someone exploded a miniature firework, blowing the head off a lone gargoyle. On the fifth floor, fifth-year student Sonya and her best friend Colin had released a whole horde of toads, now jumping on the clothes and heads of passing students. Lydia seemed to be the only one not participating in the fun. Slowly walking down the corridor leading to the Transfiguration room, Martin could only dodge the objects that appeared here and there, trying to hit someone. She ignored the inkwell, which had been sent into a long and fascinating flight by Peeves himself.

- Miss Martin? - McGonagall raised her eyebrows, looking at the student with astonished eyes, -If you haven't noticed, the lesson is over, you're a bit late.

- Yes, Professor, I have noticed. - Lydia nodded weakly, glancing blankly around the empty classroom, 'Tell me, what do you know about the murder that took place eleven years ago in the Brown family? - I said, bluntly, without giving either myself or the professor a chance to retreat.

- How do you know about it, Miss Martin? - Minerva asked in a much quieter voice, clearly alarmed.

- I like newspapers, especially old ones. And I came across one that was devoted to this murder. It seemed very strange to me, so I thought I'd ask you for details. - without twitching a muscle, the redhead lied, looking at the dean with all the honesty of which she was capable.

- Miss Martin, this murder was investigated by the world's leading experts, don't you think I'd know anything? - McGonagall frowned, watching the student's reaction.

- I just thought a wise wizard like you might know about it. - Martin persisted.

- Lydia,' the girl's name was spoken so quietly that Martin had to read her lips, 'I'm surprised that it was you who came to me with such questions and not Mr McCall or Mr Stilinski, but I can only tell you one thing. Don't try to find out anything, or, for that matter, fix anything. The investigation was closed ten years ago, you don't need to be bothered with such nonsense, believe me. Now, there's something else I'd like to say. - The professor's voice was back to its usual volume and sternness, and his lips were habitually tight. - Minus ten points to Gryffindor for your absence from class, Miss Martin. I hope you'll be in the next lesson? - McGonagall turned away and strode away, leaving the door open. Sighing, Martin walked out of the office, heading towards the hospital wing.

***

- Merlin's trousers, it's mind boggling. - I didn't realise it was so bad,' Stiles shook his head, covering his gas. Yeah, I didn't put you in the daisy chain.

- I'm not even gonna ask what that means. - Martin rolled her eyes. Luckily, Will was asleep when she came in, and not pretending to be, judging by Stiles' words. Or, better yet, never tell him at all. You were right. He could think anything, the outcome is unpredictable. What would a withdrawn Slytherin do? Hmm, I'm sorry, I can't imagine.

- You know, I was thinking I should tell you. - Stiles shook his head, ignoring his friend's exasperated sigh, 'I think he should know. You were absolutely right. We can change the situation dramatically. I don't care if any of the snakes even mention Will. Lydia, he really doesn't deserve this.

- Yes, I understand that it's hard to deserve it,' Martin sighed and locked her hands together, 'but, Stiles, think about the fact that if we tell everyone that Will is the son of a bloodthirsty killer, we'll only make things worse. It's a very delicate situation. It's also unpredictable. It's impossible to predict the consequences. So shouldn't we just leave it as it is? - Having finished, Martin again gently ran her palm through her friend's dishevelled hair, looking the boy straight in the eyes.

- Leeds, I don't know,' Stiles leaned back against the bed, his fingers buried in her hair, taking in more air and wrinkling his nose. - This is too complicated and too serious. Too, Merlin bloody complicated.

- What's complicated? - The Gryffindors shuddered in synchrony and turned to Will, who was stretching and yawning sweetly.

- Transfiguration is complicated. Stiles wasn't here, so I'm just telling him. - Martin replied hastily.

- I love Transfiguration. Will smiled and sat down on the bed, 'Listen, Lydia, you and I haven't even met, even though I know a lot about you, but I want to ask you something. May I? - Martin took a quick glance at the still sleepy Slytherin, sighing convulsively. Ruffled hair, wrinkled T-shirt, slight smile, slightly cloudy eyes. And to top it all off was the reddish mark of a pillow imprinted on his cheek. Did this boy deserve such a fate? Absolutely unfairly he had to endure two hardships at once, of which he has no memory at all, and now his fellow students treat him like a puppet for beating. If Lydia had the opportunity to help him, she would definitely take it. But maybe there was, after all, an opportunity?

- Yes, of course,' Martin nodded, lifting the corners of her lips.

- I need you to go to my friend Hagrid and tell him I'm all right,' Will laughed involuntarily, looking at the girl's eyes widening with each passing second. - I'm sorry, it's just that you look so funny. - Will smiled embarrassedly and rubbed his neck awkwardly, as if apologising for his abrupt behaviour. I'm sure you know very well that my relationship with my classmates isn't great. And it started on my very first day at Hogwarts. Anyway, I'm not going to go on and on about my misfortunes. Anyway, because of that, I started leaving Hogwarts in the second month of school to go for a walk. You know, see the neighbourhood, just sit around. And one day I happened to come upon Hagrid's hut. And it was late autumn, by the way. I remember I was freezing that day, and Hagrid said, 'Come in and warm yourself up. He's been my only friend in this place ever since,' Martin smiled sadly and nodded.

- All right, Will, I'll go to him right now,' she stood up resolutely and walked straight to the door, trying to hide the sadness in her voice. When she turned around at the exit, she said, 'Stiles, I'll be back,' and left the room.

- She's cool,' Will smiled, leaning back against the pillows.

- Not without that,' Stiles nodded in agreement, sighing heavily.

***

It was more than pleasant to walk on the sun-warmed ground in light ballet flats. Slipping her robe into her bag, Martin walked along the stony path, looking up at the light blue sky and down at the lush, bright green grass. The weather was changeable these days, and the Gryffindor was glad that it wasn't pouring rain today, as it had been two days ago. All the students who had been trapped by the sudden outburst of nature had had no choice but to hide, either standing under the awnings or hiding on the viaduct.

The sun was playing in the Gryffindor's red hair, making it appear fiery. When she reached the door of the hut, Martin stopped to catch her breath - the only thing she had been doing all day was running.

- Hagrid, this is Lydia Martin. A first year Gryffindor. May I come in? - knocked on the door.

- Just a moment! - came a slightly rough voice from the back of the hut.

Stepping from foot to foot, Martin looked round. Vegetables were already growing on the smooth beds - a school of wizards, after all. Around the fence were tools piled on top of each other, half of which had long since malfunctioned. The tall grass behind the beds reached almost to her knees, so she could only hope that it didn't carry any evil properties. The Forbidden Forest seemed completely harmless and ordinary now (unless, of course, one paid attention to the eerie sounds that came from the thicket from time to time).

- What do you want? - With a jerk, the ranger opened the door without knocking Lydia out of the hut, shoving Fang out of the way with his foot.

- I'm here at Will's request,' Martin replied, jerking her shoulder irritably.

- Will? Oh, you should have told me, because I didn't know, so I didn't let you in. Come on in, if it's Will's,' the giant wailed, swinging the door open wider and letting the girl in.

The hut looked surprisingly nice and tidy inside. The smell of strong coffee and baked goods hit her nose. Fang growled at the guest, then sniffed, listening obediently to Hagrid's mutterings about the dog's ill-manneredness, and then, realising that the girl was no threat, plopped his head into her lap, drooling on her perfectly pressed skirt.

- So what's the word from Will? - Hagrid asked, putting the kettle on at that moment.

- He wanted me to tell you that he's fine and that he's in hospital for a minor reason. He said you'd understand,' Martin wrinkled her nose and tried to wipe away the drool from the now sweetly sniffling dog with a napkin the size of a separate tablecloth.

- Oh, well, I guessed it right away. Will often goes to the hospital when things are going badly for him,' the ranger nodded, pulling a very appetising-looking biscuit out of the oven.

- Do you know why things are so bad for him? - Martin asked, looking hopefully at the back of Hagrid, who was stirring by the fire.

- It's because of injustice that he got into his faculty. He's a clever, cunning fellow, but he didn't think of the most important thing himself. And I'll tell you, he shouldn't have to figure it out, he shouldn't, it would only make it worse. - Hagrid must have forgotten who he was talking to. The fact that he couldn't say such a thing to a first year girl was clear at once. And it was also clear that if the giant turned around, he would immediately stop saying such useful and necessary information to the Gryffindor.

- Why do you think it would be worse? - Martin asked, trying to get her wand out of her bag as discreetly as possible.

- He'll want to know the whole truth, he'll probably go to Miriam's grave too. He doesn't need that, it won't do him any good. Nonsense, that's what I'll tell you,' Martin swung her wand before the water could even boil, causing the kettle to fall to the floor, spilling hot water everywhere. - What the hell is that? - exclaimed the forester, cleaning up the aftermath of this minor disaster.

- Where did you say the grave was? - Martin asked, putting her wand back into her bag and ignoring Fang's slightly suspicious look.

- It's at their house, yes. - Hagrid answered, wiping up the puddles and putting the kettle on again, 'In North London. Hampstead Heath, I think. I can't remember exactly,' the forester said, pouring the tea into mugs.

- Look, is it not disguised in any way? Maybe with trust charms, dilluminising? - Martin rambled on.

- No, what charms are there? Wizards come there all the time. After all, the Browns, they helped a lot of people, loved them all. And then bang, bang, bang. Nobody expected it. - The ranger opened his eyes wide as he put the mugs full of fragrant tea in front of the Gryffindor, apparently realising that he had just revealed secret information to a man who had absolutely no right to know about it.

- 'Hagrid, I think I'd better be going. Will's waiting there, and I've got some things to do,' Martin said, hurriedly jumping up from the table and picking up her bag, 'Thanks for the tea, but I can't stay. Next time, okay? I'll pop round again. Thank you for everything, really, thank you. - Leaping to the door, Lydia looked apologetically at the utterly bewildered giant, who looked so pitiful now that Martin's chest ached. - I'm sorry,' the girl said one last time and stormed out of the hut. Blinking confusedly, Hagrid sank heavily into his chair, running his palm over his beard.

- I shouldn't have said that. You shouldn't have,' the poor forest ranger mumbled, looking at the bewildered Fang with a pitiful look.

***

- What the hell have I gotten myself into,' whispered Martin, running at meteoric speed. Fortunately, she was in class, so it would be impossible to meet anyone.

It seemed that it took her no more than a minute to reach the archway with the sign 'Hospital Wing'. But still, it was enough time for her to put all the information on the shelves and figure out how to present it to Stiles, so that he would understand and, Merlin forbid, not correct it.

- May I? - The girl peeked into the room.

- Of course. I've been waiting,' Stiles nodded, lying on his stomach. Martin looked at Will's bunk and raised her eyebrows in surprise.

- Did he fall asleep again? - The girl said incredulously, sitting down on the edge of Stilinski's bed.

- Yeah. About twenty minutes ago,' Stiles smiled, sitting down across from his friend in a Turkish chair, 'Lyds, what's wrong? - The boy asked worriedly, looking at his friend's frantic breathing.

- Stiles, there's another problem. No, there isn't. - It's not a problem,' Martin shook her head, causing the Gryffindor's eyes to widen even more. It's another detail that could either help us or ruin absolutely everything. - Stiles waited and didn't even seem to be breathing. With a faint smile at the corner of her lips, Martin turned away from her friend, looking out the window, 'When I was at Hagrid's and started talking about Will, he told me something. Unknowingly, I think, - remembering how the girl had managed to get this meagre information, Martin blushed slightly.

- What did he say? - Stiles asked impatiently, drumming his fingers on the bed.

- Briefly, and in the most basic terms, he said he knew where Miriam's grave was. Near their house in London. And I think I have a rough idea of where it is,' Lydia said, tucking one strand behind her ear.

- I mean...' Stiles opened his mouth, staring at his friend in astonishment.

- Yeah. I don't know, maybe if Will wanted to, we could go there. But he'd have to know everything, right? And we can't have that yet. - Martin shook her head, looking at the clouds moving across the sky. Their image in this situation was completely inappropriate. Airy, light, clean, snow-white. While their situation was only associated with dark heavy clouds.

- Why can't we? It must be done! - Stiles objected again, shaking his head furiously, 'We have to, do you hear? - The boy shook his friend by the shoulder. She sighed irritably and turned sharply towards Stiles, throwing off his arm.

- Stilinski, what do you think you're doing? - The redhead hissed. - What are you going to say? Hey, Will, did you happen to know that you're the son of two pureblood wizards? No? Well, at least now you do. Oh, yeah, your father tried to kill you and then your mother. Oh yes, that's exactly what it is! - Martin gave Stiles a cold look, as if to express her disapproval in full.

- Why exactly like that? - Stiles asked quietly, dumbfounded by her friend's outburst of emotion.

- Why else? - Martin asked in a much calmer tone, turning away from the window again, 'Stiles, understand, it's none of our business. If they didn't tell him, they had their reasons. We're just freshmen, remember? And the Wizengamot court was running the whole thing. Which one of us do you think is right? - Martin asked, without even turning round, 'I think the answer to the question is obvious.

- Yes, you're right, it's obvious. - I'm glad you realise that we're right,' the boy concluded and leaned back on the cushions, looking up at the ceiling.

- What?' Martin looked back at him perplexed, still grinning at his stubbornness. A real Gryffindor, Merlin,' Martin gave up, 'How do you think Will will react? - Looking straight into her friend's eyes, Martin asked.

- I don't think he'll be happy. - came from the other corner of the room. The Gryffindor turned round sharply and saw the brunet glaring at them. Will folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the headboard, 'Now, since you haven't been able to retain this information, I'm going to ask you to recount it to me in slightly more colourful detail.

Sighing convulsively, the Gryffindor glanced round, feeling something shiver inside.