Brooklyn did his best to enjoy the rest of the summer despite seeing Demona with Draco Malfoy and Narcissa. He still had no idea what that boy was doing with her. But one of the good things about the rest of the summer was getting to hang out with Bill Weasley and watch his brother and friends play Quidditch in the back yard with apples instead of real balls, for Ron hoped to try out for Keeper on the team this year since Oliver was no longer at school.

The foursome also discussed the whole situation for Malfoy supposedly joining the Death Eaters.

"But Harry, not that I don't trust your theory or anything, but why would Voldemort want to hire an underage Wizard?" Hermione questioned.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Spare me the lecture Hermione, I don't feel like discussing this anymore, if you don't mind."

Brooklyn nodded. "Yeah, all we need to know right now is that Draco's entangled with Voldemort and my biggest enemy, Demona." He growled. "But I do eventually want to know what they want him to do."

....

As September 1st finally rolled in, it was a lot of goodbye hugs, as Brooklyn and his friends climbed on board the train, Sirius, Mad-Eye, and some of the Order with the London Clan who wished Griff luck at Hogwarts with them.

Ron and Hermione had them gone off to do their Prefect duties, so Harry and Brooklyn shared a compartment with Neville, Luna and Katie, who sat with Brooklyn as usual.

Neville waved at them. "Hey, guys. Enjoyed your holiday?"

Brooklyn shrugged. "Good enough. I'm just glad to be going back to Hogwarts again. What about you, Luna?"

Luna smiled, wearing odd looking glasses called Spectrespects while reading the Quibbler upside down in her usual fashion. Not that he didn't mind much anymore. "We had a wonderful summer. Daddy's newspaper sold like lightning with your brother's interview about You-Know-Who last year. We had a vacation in Africa together and had a great time."

Brooklyn felt happy that Luna had the chance to have a good summer. "That sounds like fun!"

Katie nodded. "I've always wanted to go to Africa!"

Neville had another interesting question, he wanted to know if the D.A. Was still going on this year, but the brothers shook their heads.

"Sorry, Neville. But there is really no point now that Umbridge is gone," Brooklyn apologized. Neville looked kind of disappointed.

"That stinks. I do wish you could be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Brooklyn. It would be cool to have a gargoyle Professor!"

Brooklyn blushed embarrassedly. "Yeah, uh, thanks, but I'd rather stick to guarding the castle more than being stuck in a classroom, besides, Dumbledore's probably gotten somebody else anyway."

Griff couldn't help but smirk a little at the idea of Brooklyn as a Professor.

At that moment, the compartment door slid open, revealing a girl with large dark eyes and long black hair with her giggling fourth year friends. Brooklyn furrowed his brow, this was one Gryffindor girl he'd never spoken too.

"Hi, Harry! I'm Romilda Vane," she introduced in an all too confident tone that Brooklyn didn't like as much. "Why don't you come sit in our compartment? You don't need to sit with them," she added in a stage whisper, indicating to Brooklyn and the other four. Brooklyn winced slightly from the tone in her voice, for she probably had been pointing out his werewolf scars, and he glanced over to Neville, whose bottom was sticking out of his pants, and the way Luna's Spectrespects looked, she looked like a multicolored experimented on owl.

Katie narrowed her eyes at Romilda, she and her have never seen eye to eye with one another, and hated the way Brooklyn flinched from her cruel words, as did Griff.

Harry stood up, facing Romilda. Insulting his brother and friends always crossed the line.

"I'm perfectly fine right here, they're friends of mine, and that was also my brother you insulted," he snapped, glaring. Romilda looked quite surprised, one last glance over at Brooklyn, who held Katie's hand, and her face flushed.

"Oh, okay then," she replied, quickly exiting the door and closing it.

Brooklyn smiled at Harry. "Hey, thanks for sticking with us," he said, lightly bumping Harry on the shoulder. He nodded back.

"Well, nobody insults my brother and friends, plus they didn't face the Death Eaters or Voldemort with me, nor was she in the D.A."

Luna looked pleased at his words. "That's really nice of you, they must expect you to have cooler friends than us, though."

Harry shook his head. "No, you guys are cooler than them any day of the week!"

And with that the rest of the train ride was much more enjoyable, especially when they shared a handful of snacks including a stack of cauldron cakes and pumpkin pastries together, until at one point, Harry spotted Draco, and snuck away to investigate. Brooklyn was itching to follow, but they were almost there, and he eventually decided that Harry was probably just going to use the bathroom and left with the others.

22 minutes later in the Great Hall, Harry still hadn't shown, and Brooklyn felt worried. He told Hermione and Ron he was gonna look for him and quietly made his way out.

The train was still there, thank goodness, as Brooklyn opened up the door; but nobody was inside. He sniffed the air, to catch his scent, and a sharp tangy scent hit his nose, the smell of blood, almost right in front of him. He raised his wand.

"Finite!" Brooklyn called. If he smelt blood, Harry had gotten into trouble. The Invisibility Cloak flew off, and Harry's arms and legs broke apart from being frozen. His nose was bleeding, too.

The gargoyle helped Harry to his feet. "What had happened?" He demanded. Harry looked rather angry, but relieved to see Brooklyn at the same time.

"Malfoy, of course. He caught me listening in, freezing me, breaking my nose, and just leaving me here for the train to return to London," he huffed, trying to stem his nose with his sleeve.

Brooklyn felt furious that Malfoy had busted his little brother's nose, but didn't bother asking why he had been listening in for he already guessed, instead using Episky on Harry before guiding him back to the Great Hall, first being searched by Auror security before going inside.

They arrived on time for Dumbledore's speech, managing a few bites of dessert, though Brooklyn could always get something from Dobby in the Kitchens later.

Dumbledore made the usual announcements along with Filch requesting the ban of Wizard Wheezes, along with the unfortunate switch of events of Slughorn being the potions Professor and Snape being the new Defense teacher much to the disappointment of his friends, until he said something else, something that gave Brooklyn pretty terrible memories.

"You all have been searched here tonight, and I think you have the right to know why. Once, there was a young man who like you, sat in this very hall, walked this castle's corridors, slept under this roof. He seemed to all the world, a student like any other. His name, Tom Riddle," Dumbledore said, much to the sudden muttering of the students. Brooklyn glanced downward, shuddering slightly just from hearing that name, memories of being controlled by the diary plaguing his thoughts once more.

Griff looked at his friend in concern. "You okay, mate? It's Tom, isn't it?"

Brooklyn nodded silently. "Yeah, but I'll be okay, I think..."

"Today of course, he is known all over the world by another name..." Dumbledore continued, explaining the procedures of the enhanced Auror security. Brooklyn couldn't listen, trying to think about other things than Tom Riddle.

After the speech, everybody filed out to bed, following Ron complaining about Snape being picked for Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, which he wondered why now did Dumbledore throw the reins to him after all these years.

All this echoed in his brain as Brooklyn fell into a fitful sleep, small flickering images of Tom Riddle threatening to come back to haunt him.

....

The next morning found Brooklyn accompanying Harry and Ron to Potions, to see how Slughorn taught his classes differently from Snape, as they were starting their next level of exams: N.E.W.Ts, Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Levels. One other class they weren't taking though was Care of Magical Creatures.

In the classroom were three different potions on display, two of them being Polyjuice which Brooklyn was familiar with, and a famous love potion, Amortentia. He watched Harry and Ron fighting over the last two Advanced Potion Making books in the cupboard, with Ron surprisingly winning the newer looking book.

Brooklyn could smell the Love Potion from his position near the door, which Slughorn claimed he was welcome to stay and watch. It filled him with the smells he enjoyed, chocolate, butterbeer, and something else, it couldn't be...Katie's hair?

He blinked a few times, shaking his head as Slughorn had covered up the love potion. Brooklyn then found himself eyeing a fourth tiny bottle of golden potion that looked interesting.

"Sir? What's in that one?" Lavender Brown asked, and Slughorn answered.

"Ah, that is the Lucky Potion, Felix Felicis a prize I offer to each of you to who can brew a successful draft of Living Death. Most useful when you need luck in dire circumstances, but banned from sports. But this will be for the most successful potion maker."

The whole class now buzzed with excitement about this, and Brooklyn couldn't help but notice the interested look on Malfoy's face, who was raptured onto Slughorn's description of the Lucky Potion. Why did he need it so badly?

Within ten minutes, everybody was working on their potion. Brooklyn moved over near Harry in case he needed help, and saw how he was rifling through the old potion book, and he noticed writing that wasn't part of the book at all.

Harry tried cutting up a pretty tough bean that wouldn't break, even when Brooklyn tried to. The brothers glanced down once more at the instructions, and they saw added writing under the cutting of the bean:

Crush bean with flat side of silver dagger, releases the juice much faster.

Brooklyn and Harry both glanced at one another, and Harry shrugged, giving it a go, surprising the both of them as juice spurted out of the broken sides. The gargoyle was impressed at how much this little bean could hold so much of it.

It continued on, as other instructions in the book were replaced by the previous owner's advice, including stirring clockwise after every counterclockwise. Brooklyn scratched his head in utter confusion, how could this old owner be right two times? Hermione had noticed, thinking they were doing it wrong, her hair frazzled more than usual.

And just like that, the potion looked perfect, a shimmering pink with silver steam. Slughorn looked over everybody else's with a small approving nod at Hermione's purple one, until he saw Harry's, and his face lit up.

"Merlin's beard! It is perfect! So perfect I say one drop could kill us all!" He complimented, slapping Harry on the shoulder. "You should be proud of your brother, Brooklyn! He didn't even ask for help! That's clearly genius genes!"

Brooklyn grinned, but half heartedly. They didn't exactly follow the instructions word for word, but took an old student's advice instead.

Slughorn handed over the Lucky Potion to Harry, who accepted it gratefully. Hermione was especially annoyed about it all later at dinner. It was just the four of them sitting together at the moment, while Griff took over some of Brooklyn's shifts.

"Harry didn't cheat, Hermione, if that's what you're thinking, unless you're jealous," Brooklyn said to her, and she rolled her eyes.

"No! But Harry didn't exactly do it all himself, did he?"

Harry looked down at his book, that said: This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince.

"Who is this Half-Blood Prince?" Ron asked in confusion, staring down at the name. Brooklyn shrugged.

"As long as he's nothing like Tom Riddle, this book doesn't seem so cursed to me," he said. Hermione frowned, eyes flickering in worry

"It's just that-that I don't want anything to happen to you from another cursed book like with-well..."

Brooklyn gave her an assuring look, now seeing that she was just worried. But so far, this book didn't show any signs of having any hexes. But he was still was gonna keep his eye on Harry.

"Don't worry, Hermione. We aren't as gullible as we used to be in our early years. If anything dangerous does happen to be in it, we will get rid of it, right Harry?" Harry nodded, as long as this puts Hermione off her worrying, he was good with that.

That was when Hedwig delivered a message for Harry and Brooklyn:

Brooklyn and Harry:

Our lessons will begin 9:00 On Saturday night.

P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops

Ron frowned. "Why did he say he enjoys Acid Pops? Those burn your tongue!" Brooklyn rolled his eyes.

"It's the password, you idiot," he answered in an annoyed tone.

"Oi!" Ron snapped in irritation at being called that. But the brothers ignored him as they were both excited at what their first lesson with Dumbledore could be like!

....

Precisely at 9:00, Harry and Brooklyn both gave the password and went up into Dumbledore's office, where he was rifling through papers, looking at them through his half moon spectacles. Hearing them come in, he looked up with a smile.

"Ah, Harry, Brooklyn! Welcome, sit down. Must've been a busy first week for you two, I expect?"

Brooklyn nodded, still wondering what Dumbledore had in store for them tonight, as he stood up, going over to a strange cabinet full of vials.

"I've decided to start teaching Harry on why Voldemort had decided to Mark you as his equal, by going deep into his backstory, even in the memories of his old relatives, such as Marvolo Gaunt, Tom's grandfather. As what you can see in this cabinet are many different memories I collected, and we will explore them together in my Pensive."

Brooklyn tensed a little at the idea of going into Tom's memories, especially his relatives and others who knew him, but deep down, he knew he had to be brave about it, even with the diary incident four years ago. If this is what it took to help them defeat his enemies, so be it.

Dumbledore pulled one out. "Now, we're going into the memory of one particular Bob Ogden."

"Who was he?" Harry asked.

"He was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Dumbledore. "He died some time ago, but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded him to confide these recollections to me. We are about to accompany him on a visit he made in the course of his duties. If you will stand, Harry, Brooklyn..."

He tipped the vial of memory into the Pensive, and Brooklyn took a breath, him and Harry putting their faces in the silvery substance. They fell down into the darkness, until Brooklyn found himself in dazzling sunlight, blinking, finding themselves in the village of Little Hangleton, watching one lone man walking along the street towards a miserable looking house, vines and trees growing all around it.

Ogden moved cautiously towards the door, which Brooklyn noticed had a dead snake attached to the door.

Lovely, Brooklyn thought, rolling his eyes, as there was a sudden rustle in the trees. Jumping out revealed the most revolting looking man the gargoyle had ever seen in rags, jumping out at Ogden who leapt back and almost stumbled on his frock and nearly fell.

"You're not welcome!" The man spoke in a hissing tone that felt terribly familiar to Brooklyn, staring in disgust as the man's face came into view: thick hair so matted, several teeth missing, black dark eyes darting about here and there.

"Er — good morning. I'm from the Ministry of Magic —"

"You're not welcome."

"Er — I'm sorry — I don't understand you," said Ogden nervously. Brooklyn couldn't at first understand why this guy couldn't understand the hairy man who held a blood soaked knife. He was clearly speaking English from his view. Or was he?

"You understand him, right Harry?" He heard Dumbledore ask. The gargoyle glanced away, feeling his cheeks burn a little from realization, it was Parseltongue he was hearing the deranged man speak in. But how? Tom Riddle's diary was destroyed, so that meant that whole terrible language could have evaporated with it, but apparently not!

What will I be able to say to them about this? Especially my Clan, that I can still understand Snake language? Brooklyn thought in fear, doing his best continuing to watch the conversation between the two men.

The man in rags was now advancing on Ogden, knife in one hand, wand in the other.

"Now, look —" Ogden began, but too late: There was a bang, and Ogden was on the ground, clutching his nose, while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his fingers. Brooklyn grimaced in disgust from from it, feeling sorry for Ogden, who clearly just wanted to talk.

"Morfin!" said a loud voice.

An elderly man had come hurrying out of the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung pathetically. This man was shorter than the first, and oddly proportioned; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which, with his bright brown eyes, short scrubby hair, and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful, aged monkey. He came to a halt beside the man with the knife, who was now cackling with laughter at the sight of Ogden on the ground.

"Ministry, is it?" said the older man, looking down at Ogden.

"Correct!" said Ogden angrily, dabbing his face. "And you, I take it, are Mr. Gaunt?"

"S'right," said Gaunt. "Got you in the face, did he?"

"Yes, he did!" snapped Ogden.

"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you?" said Gaunt aggressively. "This is private property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."

"Defend himself against what, man?" said Ogden, clambering back to his feet.

"Busybodies. Intruders. Muggles and filth." Ogden pointed his wand at his own nose, which was still issuing large amounts of what looked like yellow pus, and the flow stopped at once. Mr. Gaunt spoke out of the corner of his mouth to Morfin.

"Get in the house. Don't argue."

Now that he knew he could understand the Parseltongue, Brooklyn trembled silently from this still occurring nightmare curse leftover from his interaction from Tom. He hated it and he hated Riddle for leaving him with this!

What occured between Ogden and Gaunt was ministry talk and blood status, and Brooklyn learned of Gaunt's all pure blood relations dating back a few years ago.

Harry, Dumbledore, and Brooklyn followed Ogden and Gaunt into the house, which looked quite shabby and not so well taken care of. Brooklyn watched Morfin sitting in a filthy armchair beside the smoking fire, twisting a live adder between his thick fingers and crooning softly at it in Parseltongue:

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

Slither on the floor

You be good to Morfin

Or he'll nail you to the door.

Brooklyn shook his head in disgust. This guy was nuts. A scuffling noise came and the gargoyle spotted a young girl in a ragged gray dress, standing near a black pot fiddling with it. He never thought he saw a more defeated looking young girl in his life.

Gaunt had introduced her as Merope, Ogden tried saying hi, but she didn't respond, continuing with her chores in silence.

Well, Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden, "to get straight to the point, we have reason to believe that your son, Morfin, performed magic in front of a Muggle late last night."

Brooklyn's eyes went round, so this was what Ogden dropped by the Gaunts for.

There was a deafening clang. Merope had dropped one of the pots.

"Pick it up!" Gaunt bellowed at her. "That's it, grub on the floor like some filthy Muggle, what's your wand for, you useless sack of muck?"

"Mr. Gaunt, please!" said Ogden in a shocked voice, as Merope, who had already picked up the pot, flushed blotchily scarlet, lost her grip on the pot again, drew her wand shakily from her pocket, pointed it at the pot, and muttered a hasty, inaudible spell that caused the pot to shoot across the floor away from her, hit the opposite wall, and crack in two.

Morfin let out a mad cackle of laughter. Gaunt screamed, "Mend it, you pointless lump, mend it!"

Brooklyn's hands clenched, this was family abuse, something else he hated deeply, as he growled at Gaunt.

Brooklyn watched Merope stumble across the room, but before she had time to raise her wand, Ogden had lifted his own and said firmly, "Reparo." The pot mended itself instantly.

Gaunt looked for a moment as though he was going to shout at Ogden, but seemed to think better of it: Instead, he jeered at his daughter, "Lucky the nice man from the Ministry's here, isn't it? Perhaps he'll take you off my hands, perhaps he doesn't mind dirty Squibs..."

Without looking at anybody or thanking Ogden, Merope picked up the pot and returned it, hands trembling, to its shelf. She then stood quite still, her back against the wall between the filthy window and the stove, as though she wished for nothing more than to sink into the stone and vanish. The gargoyle's heart burst with pity for her.

"Mr. Gaunt," Ogden began again, "as I've said: the reason for my visit —"

"I heard you the first time!" snapped Gaunt. "And so what? Morfin gave a Muggle a bit of what was coming to him — what about it, then?"

"Morfin has broken Wizarding law," said Ogden sternly.

"'Morfin has broken Wizarding law.'" Gaunt imitated Ogden's voice, making it pompous and singsong. Morfin cackled again. "He taught a filthy Muggle a lesson, that's illegal now, is it?"

Yes," said Ogden. "I'm afraid it is."

He pulled from an inside pocket a small scroll of parchment and unrolled it.

"What's that, then, his sentence?" said Gaunt, his voice rising angrily.

"It is a summons to the Ministry for a hearing —"

"Summons! Summons? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?"

"I'm Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," said Ogden.

"And you think we're scum, do you?" screamed Gaunt, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-nailed finger pointing at his chest. "Scum who'll come running when the Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?"

Brooklyn felt his eyes flash white, growling viciously at Gaunt for calling Ogden that word he grew to hate. Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking his head.

"Brooklyn, you must keep remembering that this is an old memory, long past. You can't help them now."

I wish I can, the gargoyle thought in sad anger, his eyes stopped glowing after that.

It continued, as Brooklyn saw several items Gaunt showed to Ogden to show off their pure blood status; a gold ring with a black diamond shaped stone, and a locket with a serpent symbol. He thought that locket looked familiar. Where had he seen that thing last?

And then things got worse for Merope as a Muggle couple stopped by, looking over the house and Morfin, and Gaunt caught Merope staring at the man, Tom, Voldemort's father, whom Gaunt discovered Merope was in love with. He began screaming and cursing at her for being a filthy squib, Blood Traitor, etc. Ogden tried to stop Gaunt and save her but was outfighted by the two men, causing him to run for it, as well he should, Morfin was insane, mad. Goliath probably wouldn't approve of these two men at all.

At last they returned to the office, Brooklyn glad that he didn't have to hear those terrible people speak Parseltongue anymore.

Harry and Dumbledore discussed what they had learned in the Pensive about Voldemort's parents and how Voldemort was born, and that Gaunt and Morfin were both convicted to Azkaban while Brooklyn stayed silent, his face still feeling hot from learning that Parseltongue was still a part of him. Dumbledore noticed his lack of interest in their conversation.

"Are you okay, Brooklyn?" He jumped at Dumbledore's voice, shuffling his feet.

"Erm, uh, sure. Th-that was quite interesting, with the Gaunts, uh, wasn't it?" He stuttered, feeling himself backing towards the door. Harry looked concerned. Was he trying to hide something again?

"If you want, you can go rest," Dumbledore suggested gently, and Brooklyn felt pretty relieved that he didn't probe him about it. He would welcome sleep after this, though Brooklyn knew he would eventually have to tell them, but for the moment, this just felt too embarrassing, and awkward to suddenly blurt out he could still talk to snakes after thinking he was completely free from Tom Riddle for three years.

"Thanks, Sir. I'll see you later, Harry," Brooklyn thanked, making a quick, but not so hasty leave so not to arouse more concern.

He made it to an empty common room for it was now 10:30. But Brooklyn didn't feel like going to bed yet, for his mind was still overflowing with questions about his revelation, as he slumped into the couch near the fire, just staring at the flames, wondering how he was gonna cope with it.

He sat there for quite a time until Harry came in, noticing Brooklyn's troubled and tired gaze, and sat with him, taking a hold of his brother's hand, hoping it would comfort him. He didn't know yet, but soon Harry was gonna learn of Brooklyn's still speaking Parseltongue ability, which could bring the brothers closer together than ever.