[41] A Name in the Book

Hall's name had moved in the Book of Admission. He was now officially a first-year, same as Ron.

He stared at his fingers. The book had responded to him. Probably the Slytherin bloodline.

He frowned. Helena's attitude toward Tom Riddle had been total contempt. They could hurt Tom — Hall had forced them to — but Helena hadn't wanted to give him the venom. With Ron and Hall, Helena retracted her fangs even when using them to sharpen.

Interesting.

Tom Riddle was a certified Slytherin heir. Hall was... something else.

Dumbledore broke the silence with an awkward laugh. "Perhaps the Book of Admission already registered Hall's name."

Arthur hesitated. "Could we re-sort him? Henry William is a Slytherin — what does that have to do with Hall Weasley?"

Snape let out a cold laugh. He turned to face Hall — actually face him, for the first time. His expression twisted for a few seconds before settling.

Hall touched his cheek. Maybe Snape couldn't handle his handsome face.

"Weasley. You're unhappy with Slytherin?"

"No, Professor! Born a Slytherin. Die a Slytherin ghost."

The room went quiet. They all heard the seriousness beneath the flippant words.

Arthur couldn't bring himself to suggest a transfer after that. He muttered under his breath — "Weasley, first Slytherin, Merlin, red and green really are weird" — until Molly's glare shut him up.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw. Perhaps it makes no difference to Hall. Isn't that right, Professor Weasley?"

Hall started digging his toes into the floor.

Molly's eyes lit up. Dumbledore recounted Hall's achievements at Hogwarts.

By the time he finished, Arthur and Molly were crying.

Hall was bewildered. Dumbledore hadn't mentioned the Squib potion research — confidentiality agreement — just that Hall had participated in experiments. And succeeded. Why were they crying?

"Shouldn't you be proud?"

He tried to comfort them. "Mum Molly. Dad Arthur. If you keep crying, my clothes will be soaked. This is the only school uniform I have left without patches."

Molly stepped back and looked him over. "We'll go to Hogsmeade. Order more."

"Yes, can't let the Slytherins look down on him." Arthur's voice trembled but his eyes scanned Hall's clothes critically.

"I have enough clothes. When Ron wakes up, we'll buy him a wand. I have a salary." Hall shook his coin purse.

They started crying again.

Hall's head hurt.

"Hall." Molly's voice choked. "You're our pride. We're so proud of you."

Arthur nodded frantically behind her.

"We were angry at first. Family shouldn't keep secrets." She stroked his hair. "But we're proud. You're amazing. We never imagined you could do all this."

"We neglected you before. It's normal you didn't want to tell us."

"Thank Merlin for giving you to us."

Hall almost said he'd never met Merlin. Thanking him was pointless. Thank the Weasleys, maybe.

Molly's face was guilt and pride mixed. The Weasley children were all capable. Prefects, Quidditch stars. They just had too many children — Hall had been overlooked. He was quiet, stayed in his room, read alone. Ginny came later. It was normal.

But in that neglected silence, Hall had grown into someone who could protect himself and his brother. A teaching assistant. Helping Dumbledore. How could they not be proud?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Hall found sentimentality uncomfortable. If he knew what they were actually thinking, his scalp would tingle.

"Mum, Dad. You did fine. My genius is innate. Don't feel guilty."

He meant it. He didn't enjoy playing with children. Reading alone was better. And Molly's memory of him being "lively and mischievous" was a misunderstanding. He'd been curious about the magical world. Once he'd explored the surrounding towns and couldn't go further, he stayed home. That was all.

Misunderstandings. Everyone has their own interpretation.

The three Weasleys sat on the sofa. The sombre atmosphere had lifted.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I'll ask anyway."

He wouldn't sleep otherwise. At his age, sleeplessness was dangerous.

Dumbledore studied Hall with eyes that missed nothing.

"Hall, my child." Dumbledore pointed at Hall's wrist. A glittering gold bracelet was coiled there.

Snape and Dumbledore both knew what it was. This was one reason Snape had stayed.

"Could you introduce her to me?"

Hall flicked his wrist. Helena was asleep, bubbles rising from her nose.

"She can't even pretend properly. Wasted a thousand years."

"This is Helena."

"We found her in the Chamber of Secrets. Below the bathroom."

Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Snape. "We sensed basilisk activity. Couldn't find her."

"You took her."

Hall nodded. Obvious.

"What is she guarding?"

Hall paused. Dumbledore noticed.

If Slytherin's founders had wanted a living space for a basilisk, the Forbidden Forest would have been better. Sunlight. Prey. Not a damp, dark underground chamber.

"She's waiting for her master."

Snape said it, not Hall.

Hall raised an eyebrow. Double agent instincts. Impressive.

Dumbledore feigned curiosity. "Why would Severus say that?"

Snape glanced at Hall's wrist. "Just a guess."

Dumbledore had guessed the same. He'd asked the Sorting Hat about it.

"Without obsession, she wouldn't stay," Snape explained. "The passage leads out. She could leave. She didn't. Magical creatures are more loyal than we imagine. They defy biology for a promise."

He looked at Hall. "Your Magical Creatures class needs improvement."

Hall scratched his head. The creatures in class were ugly. He had no desire to learn about them.

He poked Helena. He hadn't expected this loyalty from her.

But it was strange. Such a loyal basilisk, leaving her post because Hall asked. And she never urged him to return. She could have hidden somewhere and waited for his message.

Instead, she carried her tail on Hall's wrist like a gold bracelet and followed him everywhere. Occasionally sneaking off to Ron's Gryffindor dorm. Ron had been terrified at first. Now he calmly pulled her closer in his sleep.

Hall had guessed the Weasley bloodline was exceptionally pure. But Helena showed no unusual behaviour toward the other Weasleys. That overturned his theory.

Molly and Arthur went pale. That was a basilisk. One glance could petrify.

"Helena likes us," Hall said.

"Us?" Molly grabbed the word.

"And Ron. She sneaks through secret passages to play with him."

Molly and Arthur turned green. Snape went a little green too.

The Slytherin basilisk liked the Gryffindor Weasleys.

"Helena said we smell like her master."

Dumbledore burst out laughing.

"Hogwarts family! Hahahahaha!"

He couldn't wait to tell Tom. Before Tom died.

The Weasleys were pale. They wanted to rush home and check the family tree.

The conversation ended.

"Hall. Give me the diary." Dumbledore placed the blackened diary on his desk, clutching the half-empty bottle of basilisk venom Hall had given him.

One drop would destroy it. Made by Helena. Hall trusted it.

Hall needed rest. Three classes tomorrow. A teaching assistant session. If he didn't sleep, he'd need the energy potion again. The taste had improved but was still foul — more sour than a hot Americano.

Dumbledore dismissed everyone.

He stood alone in the Headmaster's office.

"Albus. You suspect that child?"

A voice rang out from the walls. Portraits of past Headmasters.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Hall is a good boy. Better than I imagined."

Knowing his surname was Weasley made Dumbledore even more pleased. Capable. Loving his family.

Family. What a wonderful thing.

With family around, Hall Weasley wouldn't go astray.

"But I always felt this child knew a lot—" His fingers traced the diary on the table. Starlight shimmered on his fingertips. "Like the problem with this diary."

Dumbledore breathed life into the diary. It looked brand new.

"Tom."

The diary opened automatically. Elegant gold handwriting raced across the blank pages. Insults, mostly.

"What have you done to yourself?"

Dumbledore wasn't asking for a response. He was muttering to himself.

His gaze drifted to a white-framed picture on the desk beside him.

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