[35] Blood and Silence

Squibs were an uncomfortable topic in the wizarding world.

Even families who accepted Muggle-borns rarely accepted Squibs. The Weasleys never talked about their Squib relative � an accountant in the Muggle world.

Once confirmed as a Squib, you were no longer welcome. Some families sent their Squib children to live in the Muggle world, encouraging integration. It was kinder than letting them stay in the wizarding world as second-class citizens.

The Squib Supporters Association managed them until they turned eighteen. In practice, it meant being abandoned by your family.

The cruelest part: Squibs had no magic, but they could use magical objects and see what Muggles couldn't.

Hall wanted to save them because he was afraid. Afraid of being abandoned. Afraid of leaving this world behind.

Even though his parents always assured him he could come back, Hall knew deep down � if you were a dud and insisted on staying where you didn't belong, both sides would suffer.

He wrote a note, pressed the potion onto it, and placed it on Snape's desk, thanking him for allowing the experiments.

As he turned to leave, the fireplace lit up.

A face appeared � young, pale, bearing a striking resemblance to Draco Malfoy.

"Severus. I'm sorry to bother you so late."

The voice was cold, but a tremor ran through it.

"I heard that he � has he returned?"

"I await your reply."

"And � the thing he left with me is missing. I wanted to tell you."

The uncomfortable silence stretched as Hall waited in Snape's cellar for news.

Hall stayed in Snape's cellar waiting for news. The message through the fireplace was about You-Know-Who. It might have been nothing � but it might not have been.

He never got an answer. Instead, Snape drafted him to coordinate potion supplies with the Board of Governors. By the time he finished, the Christmas holidays were almost over.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

He'd been running on three or four hours of sleep, sustained by energy potions. His mind was foggy. He decided to get some proper food.

At the Slytherin entrance, he found an unexpected visitor.

Ron.

Helena reacted before Hall did. She shot forward and wrapped around Ron's face.

Ron yelped, frantically peeling her off. "Ron? What's wrong?"

Hall's heart tightened. Ron never came to the Slytherin common room.

"It's Harry," Ron said.

Hall waited.

Ron took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask you for help. About Harry."

Hall looked at him properly. Ron was shivering. Slytherin was underground, near the lake � cooler than the rest of the castle. The Slytherin cloaks had temperature regulation. Ron's didn't.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long."

Hall started walking toward the Great Hall. Fast. Ron followed.

Out of the dungeons, the temperature rose. Ron let out a breath.

"What happened?"

Ron's earlier courage had evaporated. He looked like he regretted coming.

"If you came to me, it must be serious." Hall spoke carefully. "Something even your friends can't help with."

Ron had warmed up to Slytherins slightly after the Chamber � mostly because of Helena. But they only nodded in the corridors. Finding the Slytherin common room was something Ron would never do unless it was urgent.

"It's Harry," Ron said again. "I think you can help him. I've tried to persuade him, but he won't listen. He listens to you. Could you talk to him?"

Hall was confused. Harry had Dumbledore and Snape watching him. And Hall had just prepared that gift.

Then it clicked. The Mirror of Erised.

But that didn't make sense. The Philosopher's Stone had been found. Why would the mirror appear?

"Persuade him about what?"

"We've been exploring Hogwarts at night." Ron glanced around, then lowered his voice.

Hall noticed a painting behind Ron � the figure inside had its ear pressed against the canvas. He dragged Ron to a corner with no portraits.

"We found a mirror on the seventh floor," Ron said. "In that mirror, I saw myself as Quidditch champion, holding the House Cup. And Hall � my brother � standing beside me in Gryffindor robes."

Ron paused. "I don't know why, but I always feel like you look a lot like Hall."

Hall changed the subject. "What did Harry see?"

"His parents. His family."

Hall understood. The Mirror of Erised showed your heart's deepest desire. For an eleven-year-old orphan, that was family.

He wondered where Dumbledore was. When Sirius would be released. Hall didn't like Sirius Black � the man had sat in Azkaban for twelve years without trying to prove his innocence. That kind of waste bothered him.

But Sirius gave Harry a home. That mattered.

"He's been sitting in front of that mirror for several nights now," Ron said. "I think there's something wrong with that mirror. It might even eat people."

---