A Young Slytherin: A Barnaby Lee Story -Hogwarts Mystery

The Death Eater and the Cursed Kid

After his third shower the next morning, he felt he finally smelt like himself again. He took more care dressing himself than he ever had before, facing the mirror when he was finished. His collar had a habit of curling upward. He pinched it furiously with his fingers to make it lay down.

Then, he realized he didn't have any money to pay for the butterbeer. He may have been thick, but he knew it probably wasn't a good idea to ask Merula for money so he could hang out wit her worst enemy.

He looked around. Robert had just woken up and was sitting in his bed bleary-eyed.

"Hey Robert, could I borrow some money? Well, except I probably won't ever pay you back."

Robert eyed him warily. "Uh, sure, just give me a second." He dug around his trunk feverishly, finally pulling out about ten galleons. "Here," he said, holding it out with shaking hands. "That's all I have."

"I'm just grabbing a butterbeer, you don't have to give it all to me," said Barnaby.

"It's fine!" said Robert, his voice coming out in a squeak. "I don't mind."

Barnaby realized Robert was scared of him. He thought Barnaby was taking the money by force. For someone reason, this didn't make him feel as good as it would have a few days ago. Instead of relishing his own power, he felt ashamed.

"Keep it," he said. "I don't want it."

Robert paused, unsure. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about it."

Barnaby left the dungeons, unsure what to do next. Who could he ask money from who wouldn't be terrified of him?

"Professor Kettleburn?" Barnaby called when he arrived at the paddock.

"In here." Kettleburn was in the storage shed sorting out bags of creature food. He stood up and asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Lee?"

"Well, I was wondering if...you could maybe lend me some money?"

Kettleburn looked uncomfortable. "What for?"

"I told someone I'd buy them a butterbeer in Hogsmeade, but I don't have any money. My Gran..." He found the situation with his grandmother too difficult to explain.

"I see," said Kettleburn. He shifted back and forth. "May I ask who you are buying butterbeer for?"

"Sarah Spellman."

"Oh ho! I understand everything now! She's a fine girl, lad. Has a way with creatures, almost as keen on them as you. An excellent choice for a date!"

"It's not like that," he mumbled, but Kettleburn didn't seem to hear him.

"Well, I don't know how I feel about lending out money to a student," he said, "but, you've done so much extra work around here, I feel justified in rewarding you."

He fished around in his pockets until her pulled out three galleons. "Will that be enough?" he asked, handing them over.

"More than enough! Thank you, sir."

"Thank you for all your help, Lad." He squeezed Barnaby's shoulder. "If you're ever hurting for money again, you come and see me. I'll put you to work for it, mind. Now run along, go sweep her off her feet."

Then he was back to sorting his food. Barnaby didn't bother trying to explain himself again.

At the three broomsticks, he went up to the bar and set his money on the table. "Two butterbeers, please," he said to Rosmerta.

She smiled kindly at him and picked up one of the galleons. "Meeting a friend, are you?"

"Oh yeah, good point. Make that three butterbeers, please."

Sarah wasn't there yet, so he carried the drinks to an empty table to wait. He'd already finished one of his drinks by the time she arrived.

"Hi," she said, sitting down. "It's nice to see you again. You look...happier."

"I smell better too," he said.

"I'm so glad." She eyed his two glasses. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Liquid courage," he said. "I've still got to find a way to let Merula know I've decided to help you instead of her."

"You could ask her to join us."

He set his glass down. "You'd let her do that?"

"I don't care who I work with; I just want to find my brother. If Merula could help, I'd be happy to have her."

"I don't think she'd want that," said Barnaby. "I think she'd rather be eaten by an acromantula than become friends with you."

Sarah frowned. "How did you become friends with Merula anyway?"

"Well, partly because I wanted inside the cursed vaults," he said. "But we also have a lot in common. Both of our parents were death eaters."

Sarah spluttered her butterbeer. "Really?"

"Why are you so surprised?" he asked. He thought everyone knew about his family. He supposed that was why she wasn't afraid of him before. He hoped he hadn't ruined things by telling her. "Everyone knows Slytherins have the most interesting childhoods," he added, trying to steer away from his parents. "Harry Potter will definitely be a Slytherin."

"Do you want to talk about your parents?" she asked.

His heart dropped. No one had ever asked him this before. Part of him wanted to confide in her, but he was worried she'd realize he was nothing but a death eater and change her mind about working with him. She'd been his friend for less than twenty-four hours, but he didn't want to lose her. She made him feel like everything wasn't awful.

"You'll probably think my whole family is mad," he said.

She reached out and squeezed his hand. It was warm. "You can tell me, Barnaby. If you want. I can probably relate. Everyone thinks my family is mad, too."

So, he took a deep breath and told her everything. He told her about his parents always being gone and not knowing the evil acts they were performing, he told about being raised by his Gran and having little but dark artefacts to play with, and he told about his parents being captured and taken to Azkaban. He even told her about coming face to face with the Dark Lord.

"You've actually seen You-Know-Who?" she asked, horrified.

"When I was little," he said. "He came to my house for some important meeting."

"Were you scared?"

He thought it about. It was hard to bring back the memories, as he'd refused to think about them for so long. "A little, at first," he said. "But my dad had so much respect for him. He wanted me to be as strong and powerful as the Dark Lord. I wanted it, too."

He felt his throat clench tightly. "But then," he gulped, "I realized what kind of people they were. I knew..." He surprised himself by feeling heat around his eyes. He paused, forcing the tears not to fall as he remembered that night. Voldemort arriving on the doorstep. Nelly the Kneazle, sensing his untrustworthiness and attacking. Voldemort drowning her right in front of him. His father hitting him for trying to stop it. Disowning him for embarrassing the family.

"I knew I could never be like them." He looked up at Sarah. She had tears in her eyes. "I've spent my whole life trying to be strong. First it was for my family. Then it was to be better than my family. Then, it was just to get people to leave me alone."

"You are strong Barnaby, but you don't have to be for any of those reasons," said Sarah.

"I think I kind of see that now," he said. "But I've been botching things up for so long, doing bad things and making people hate me." He glanced warily at her. "Do you think I'm a bad person now?"

"No, I think you're a very good person. Who bad things have happened to. But I also think you're strong enough to overcome those things." She squeezed his hand. "And now, you have friends to help you. I'm glad you're working with us instead of Merula."

"Me too," he said.

They spent the entire afternoon in the pub together. It was one of his happiest days at Hogwarts ever. Strolling through Hogsmeade, learning about all Sarah's life, he finally felt at home for the first time.