Jocelyn wasn’t at the great hall when Richard went to dinner, and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. Shila wasn’t at the long table either, he noticed as he settled down to eat in solitude, as he did most meals. He kept an eye out for Weasley and Potter, but they sat with some second graders – probably friends of Weasley’s – and paid him no heed. It sounded like they were celebrating Weasley’s appointment to replacement beater. Richard considered using their distraction to play another trick on them, but decided against it. Headmistress McGonagall sat at the high table, and there was no point in risking catching her attention.

On his way back to Gryffindor tower, Richard took a detour by the library to find something to read before going to sleep, and to see if maybe Jocelyn was still there. Not because he minded eating alone, of course, just because he was curious. She had sounded quite sincere when she had asked to meet him at dinner. He rarely misread people so badly.

And it didn’t make sense, did it? Jocelyn had no friends in their house either, and unlike Richard, she did seem to mind.

But Jocelyn wasn’t at the library, either. Instead, he found her at the common room. He almost walked past her, so well had she hidden herself in one of the corners farthest from the fireplace, but she spotted him and waved at him.

Shila was sitting with her. She had clearly cried; her nose was running, her eyes were bright red, her face all blotchy.

Richard hesitated at the sight. He hated crying people, and he was pretty sure this was about the charms homework. In which case he probably wouldn’t be much help. Even with all of Raj’s advice, Richard was pretty sure he would come out ahead on this assignment, too. He did, after all, know how to spell “hover charm”.

But there was Leona Carl, Gryffindor prefect, Mrs. Candy junior, looking right at him. So Richard schooled his face into the most compassionate mask he could manage. It probably wasn’t very good at all, but he walked over to the two girls and fought very hard not to roll his eyes at the sight of Shila’s dripping nose and the small mountain of handkerchiefs on the table.

Girls.

“Hi,” he said, taking a chair.

Jocelyn just looked ridiculously gratefully at him when he sat down, and Shila only managed a sob, so Richard went on: “What’s wrong?”

Shila blew her nose in one of the already soggy handkerchiefs, then rubbed her eyes. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, sounding hoarse.

Richard gave up on trying not to roll his eyes. “It’s clearly not ‘nothing’,” he gave back. “Or you wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. You could at least try to lie convincingly,” he added. “Otherwise it’s just rude.”

He wasn’t quite sure why, but for some reason this earned him a smile that looked almost real.

“I – it’s stupid,” Shila muttered.

“Yeah, I figured,” Richard said. Clearly the wrong thing to say. The smile went away, and new tears spilled over Shila’s face.

“Sorry,” he added, even though he really wasn’t. “Look, is this about your brother and your charms homework? Cause I heard you this morning in the library, and that was really stupid. Or doesn’t your brother know that we’re still first graders?”

Shila’s warm brown skin tone acquired an even redder undertone, and she whispered mortified: “You heard what Raj said?”

Jocelyn, however, smiled at him.

Richard shrugged. “I used some of his suggestions,” he admitted to his own surprise. “But most of the stuff he said was so advanced, I didn’t really get it. And I figured, there’s no point in looking it up, because old Flitwick would never believe I came up with something like that on my own. We are not taking our OWLs this year, Shila.”

“See, Shila?” Jocelyn piped in. “I told you, you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Shila stared down at her own hands. “But I bet you could make a piece of chalk fly,” she whispered, glancing up at Richard.

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging again. “Probably. I’ve made things fly before I even knew I was a wizard. Didn’t you?”

“I mostly lit things on fire,” Shila said, clearly embarrassed. “But I haven’t done it in years!” she hurried to add.

Richard looked at her thoughtfully. He had never shared his secrets with other kids. But what could it hurt? Shila wasn’t much competition, no matter how hard she tried. And she wasn’t one of Potter’s flunkies, either.

“Maybe you should,” he said finally. “I always manage spells faster when I remind myself that I have done all this, long before I knew there was any magic at all.”

When he reminded himself what powers he possessed, he thought. But the girls were still looking at him, like he had something important to say. So he added something Mrs. Ran had once said: “Muggles believe that you have to believe in yourself before you can accomplish something. That you need some self-confidence to succeed. And I mean, if you can set things on fire at will, how hard can it be to make a piece of chalk fly?”

It sounded stupid and cheesy as all hell in his own ears, but Jocelyn was smiling at him, and even Shila seemed a little brighter. It probably wouldn’t help her at all, but at least she had stopped dripping, that had been just disgusting.

“Do you want to go down to the lake?” Jocelyn changed the topic. “I heard there are merpeople living in there. Maybe we’ll spot some.”

Richard nodded, happy for any excuse to get away from Shila’s mountain of soggy handkerchiefs. The other girl hesitated a little, but nodded. She took a deep breath, and then carried the whole pile over and tossed it into the fire before following Richard to the portrait hole.

It was chilly outside, but nice. Quiet. There were no other students down at the lake this late, and Richard fell a few steps behind the girls. In the low light of dusk he could pretend that he was all alone on the path around the water.

A small part of him was wondering what his mother was doing right now – if she even remembered where he was, or rather the lie he had told her. Maybe she had forgotten she even had a son.

He grinned at that thought. Maybe, if she really didn’t remember him, he would be allowed to stay at Hogwarts over summer. Maybe he would never have to return to the slums of London, to whatever rotten apartment some well meaning social worker had put his mother in this month.

At home, it had been hard not to hate her, both his parents. Some days he hadn’t even bothered to pretend he didn’t. But here in Hogwarts, it didn’t matter so much anymore. He had lived here less than a month, and yet – Hogwarts was his home now. He literally lived at his own castle now. And if he did end up spending the summer with his mother – well, that would pass, and Hogwarts would be waiting for him.

His castle.

His gaze tracked over the lake to the forest on the other side and around to the greenhouses. He had really seen only a fraction of it all.

He would have to change that.

He wanted to see it all, visit every tower and dungeon, every greenhouse, walk around the lake, yes, even go into the forbidden forest and down into the lake, talk to merpeople and centaurs and giants – if Hogwarts was to be his home, then there should be no secret in the attics, no bodies buried in the backyard he didn’t know about.

Hogwarts would be his, for he had no home of his own, and the other students didn’t really appreciate the castle anyway. None of them saw it for what it truly was: A vault full of treasure, just waiting for the right wizard to come along and open it.

A soft splattering sound startled him, and Richard whipped around, quickly hiding the wide smile full of anticipation on his face. But there was nobody there. Not even a bird. He was still alone.

Or was he?

There it was again, a splashing, quite close from the sound of it. Something was moving in the water.

Merpeople, Jocelyn had said. Richard had read about them, of course, both in “Hogwarts: a History” and “Fantastic beasts and where to find them.” But they were supposed to be really shy, or rather, secluded, and never come to the surface.

Carefully, Richard walked closer to the water, so close that the first waves were lapping at his feet, drenching his threadbare sneakers and socks. His eyes were playing tricks on him, showing him forms and faces in every shallow wave shadow. So he listened, as hard as he could.

Something went “splash” again.

And then he finally saw the huge tentacle playing lazily in the mud, right in front of his feet. Richard relaxed and smiled. He had heard about the giant squid that lived inside the lake, but he hadn’t yet spotted it himself. He laughed inwardly as the tip of the tentacle carefully poked at his shoe. After a few seconds, a second tentacle appeared, fingering his shoes, then up his legs. Then there was a deep, gurgling sound, and then Richard saw the last light reflected in the huge eye of the squid.

It winked at him.

And then it was gone again.

“Richard?” Jocelyn called. “Here you are. We’re going back, it’s getting cool. Are you coming? What are you looking at?”

“Giant squid,” Richard replied, and pointed towards where the eye had been. Only a few ripples were left now.

“Guess it’s gone,” Jocelyn said after a few seconds. She sounded a little disappointed.

“I think you startled it,” Richard said. He turned away from the lake and stepped back onto the trail. “Where’s Shila?”

“She was right behind me,” Jocelyn said, looking around. “There she is.”

They waited until Shila had caught up with them, and together they walked back towards the castle. It was the weirdest experience of all the things that had happened to him at Hogwarts, walking up to the school with the two girls chatting right and left of him, like he really was their friend.