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It had been the day after the incident in the shed that Draco had come up to Farid after charms class and offered to take him flying. Farid was a bit wary of charms class since the first day. He had never used his wand before, and on his first morning Severus had helped him get ready, brushed down his robes, the ones they had bought that excruciating day in Madam Malkin’s tucked a clean hanky in his pocket and given him a gentle kiss on his forehead. Then Master had given him his wand. Farid felt particularly nervous about this piece of magical equipment as he had never needed one before and he remembered what the silver wizard had said about his wand being brothers with the one that had caused his disguised scar and that frightened him.

He had lifted the magical instrument rather awkwardly when tiny Professor Flitwick had asked him to do so. He had been given a feather and told the spell to make it fly into the air. “The incantation Mr Prince is Wingardium Leviosa Farid nodded and said the words in his very best English but nothing happened, so Hermione had taken her wand showed him how to hold his properly and he had said the incantation once again. This time Farid had been successful, so successful that the feather flew up in the air so fast and with such force that it made a hole not only in the ceiling of the charms classroom but through the room above and out through the castle roof so that the class could see the sky. “Fecking Hell, would you look at that?” said the sandy haired boy from the night before,

“Language Mr Finnegan,” Flitwick commented as he drifted over to where he and Farid sat though on looking up he said, “Although I do see what you mean!” By the end of that session Farid had managed to float all the desks at a height of several feet above the classroom floor with the students still sitting at them, and most of his newfound friends were regarding him with something akin to awe, Farid had blushed, when they had stared at him and from then on he and Severus had practiced hard to ensure that Farid was able to regulate the amount of magic he released into his wand.

However, this development was not before he had transformed a leather shoe into a herd of cows which had ended up on one of the outlying fields where they were even now producing copious amounts of milk and conjure a Patronus of such unearthly brightness that it had blinded the class for an hour and no one had been able to tell what it was. Most people flinched slightly now if Farid produced his wand so he tried to keep it hidden whenever he could.

When Draco had come up to Farid, all alone, looking nervous but with his chin held high Ron had sneered at the silver haired Slytherin and said

“Do you seriously think we’re going to let Farid go with you? You obnoxious trainee Death Eater!”

But Farid ever the peacemaker had stopped him there.

“I jo vant to go fly vith Drraaco Rron. Pleas come too and vatch, Jes?”

And Ron had reluctantly agreed, glaring at Draco all the while. The three boys had trooped off to the quidditch pitch with Farid chattering about flying and how he could not wait to try it and the other two making faces at each other behind Farid’s back, until he told them to

“Stop behaving like liddle children!” Earning a look of surprise from them both.

Ron and Draco insisted on demonstrating to Farid how brooms flew, kicking off the ground and flying above him in lazy circles still glaring at each other and Farid stood below them watching them over his head with a look of wonder in his eyes. They almost came to blows over whose broom Farid would try first, but Ron acquiesced easily enough when he heard the story of how Draco’s broom had been broken and then mended by Farid. He had looked at Draco shamefacedly then and muttered, “That’s terrible, sorry about that!” Before blushing a deep brick red and looking away.

So Farid had tried Draco’s Nimbus 2001. He had copied the blonde haired boy’s actions, kicking off the ground just like he had and finding himself rising slowly into the air. First he tried copying the lazy circles that the boys had traced but found himself getting bolder and bolder in his movements, he couldn’t help himself but he had to go higher, from here he felt like he could see the whole world and just for a wee while Farid forgot about everything and just flew for the very pleasure it gave him, he did not know how long he had been up there, time really didn’t seem important at all.

He loved the feeling of the wind in his hair and against his cheeks, he loved the stillness and the peace and he loved the fact, that for the first time ever as far as he could remember he made the decisions and whatever happened up here whatever choice he made was up to him and nobody else. It was so great, so wonderful that he couldn’t help himself, he took both his hands from the broom and held his arms wide above his head and flew a whole circle of the quidditch pitch yelling his joy to the wind, until finally he knew it was time to go back and had pointed the tip of the broom to the ground plunging below before pulling up at the last moment and landing in front of his two new friends with an enormous grin on his face.

He was so happy, so elated that he could not remember the words he wanted to use in English so instead he had rushed over to his friends chattering to them in rabid Kazakh, about how wonderful flying was and how he had to try it again and please would they let him and wait till he told Master! Only to find himself being lifted off his feet and swung around by an elated Ron who was jumping around and bellowing at the top of his voice.

“That was bloody brilliant you sodding beauty! Did you see that Malfoy, did you see him fly? We have our seeker, no one could beat that not even you!”

And Draco had smiled back in return and had said something about it being about time some of his fellow housemates got their arses kicked and found himself being crushed in the red haired Gryffindors arms too, and somehow after that Draco found that he was a lot more accepted by the house of the lion whenever he wished to trail along behind them.

That evening Farid had been full of his adventure on the broom and Severus had listened to him babble on half in English half in Kazakh as he just did not have enough words in his new language to express the joy that he felt

And now watching him in the potions class speaking quietly to Hermione as they prepared the potion Severus could not help smirking to himself as he remembered the thank you that Farid had given him the next night when he had come back from classes to find a shiny new Firebolt propped against the sofa in the living room. Farid had thanked him every night since and had begged his master to let him go flying and Severus seeing the overwhelming joy that this freedom brought to the boy knew that he would never be able to refuse him the chance to fly, even if it did mean the loss of the Quidditch Cup from Slytherin this year.

Potions class was ending for the day Severus went round each of the cauldrons checking that potions had been correctly brewed, which of course they had this being a second year NEWT class, when he got to Farid and Hermione’s workstation he could see that his boy looked anxious, so loudly, in front of the class, he told Farid to stay behind for a moment and dismissed the others.

Once the room was empty, Severus spelled the door for silence and turned to look at Farid. The boy was leaning against his desk with his head down, chewing at his lower lip.

“Alright, my own,” Severus asked, “What is wrong?”

Farid looked at him with large worried eyes.

“It is Drraaco Masteerr,” He answered, “Che say that some of ze Slytherins zey sink somesink strange. Nott, chis fazer che spend time vith wampires and che know about slaves, how ve is trained, zey are vondering if I belongs to dyou”

Severus felt cold all over. He had been worried for sometime about Farid’s public displays of magic, he knew that he and Albus should have warned the boy to keep his secrets close, but he suspected that once Farid had let his magic loose, having been suppressed for so long, he was finding it hard to control the strength of it. Over the last three days Farid and he had practiced wand control after dinner in Severus’ chambers but was it too little too late? The whole school had seen Farid’s power and while Voldemort thought that the boy was a pet of Dumbledore’s it did not matter too much. But if he knew, if he even suspected that the boy belonged to him, then he would want him packaged up and delivered, and no excuses would be accepted.

Voldemort would have no problems making the boy his, and if Severus protested then he would be dispensed with, permanently.

“Masteerr?” Farid said anxiously

Severus looked down at him tenderly; the boy had already been through so much. In the last few days Severus had watched him blossom and grow, seen him embrace the magical world and make friends and build alliances when he so easily could have sunk without trace in this world. Part of him, a part that he ruthlessly tried to squash, wanted Farid to turn to him, need him before anyone else. But wasn’t that what the boy was doing now, turning to him with his worries? What would they do if the Dark Lord found out the truth? Severus would kill the boy himself before allowing that vicious monster to get his hands on Farid. What would his newfound friends say if they found out that Farid was a slave? Severus hoped that they would be understanding, still stay close to him, because he worried about how rejection would hurt him. Severus resolved to discuss this with Albus over lunch, but right now the boy needed reassurance, so he leaned down and kissed Farid gently on the nose and told him that everything would be alright, and that Farid was a good boy for telling him. Then he sent him off to join the other students for the midday meal, and Severus was relieved to see that Hermione and Draco were waiting outside the door to walk him down.

Severus followed them. He kept a close eye on Draco as he walked because he realised as a Slytherin himself, that if Draco had warned Farid what the others were saying then he also suspected the truth himself. But did that also mean that Draco suspected the truth about Severus, because surely he realised that a loyal Death Eater would have turned the boy over to Voldemort at once and not have kept him hidden away as Severus had done?

So deep in thought was he that he did not notice the commotion until he reached the dining hall. The children were gathered in a large group chattering excitedly, their favourite teacher had returned Remus Lupin, DADA Professor, beloved of all students.

But if the werewolf had returned then so had Black. His eyes searched the room for a sign of his worst enemy and he saw him almost at once standing to one side gesturing wildly to Dumbledore. The headmaster held up his hands in supplication and together he, Black and Lupin swept from the room in the direction of Albus’ office but the three men were alone, there was absolutely no sign as yet of a dark haired, green eyed boy.