───UNFORTUNATELY, THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS NEEDED TO MAKE AN EMERGENCY STOP. Saros was removed from the train, still unconscious, and he was transported to the school, ahead of schedule. His arrival at the Hospital Wing stirred up the questions of whether he was able to stay at the school or would it be in his best interest to return home or to St Mungo's. But before decisions were made, Madam Pomfrey was called to her station to look after the student.

There was some bruising on the side of his face from where he had fallen but no other visual injuries. From what she had been informed, he had become upset on the train after a discussion and led to him experiencing some severe head pain. She wasn't sure what she was dealing with at the time as she had only heard limited information. At the end of the last term, she believed Saros to be dead, and she would admit it pained her more than anything to hear such news.

Last year, Saros had been in and out of the Hospital Wing and she had tended to his injuries when it came to his involvement in the Triwizard Tournament. She knew it was her job to care and tend to the boy, but she never believed she would start to care for him as if he were her own. But it happened, from the times where they spent talking to her defending him, and even the small Christmas they had all shared in inside the Hospital Wing, Poppy couldn't believe that Saros was dead.

However, it turned out to be not true but Saros wasn't in the best condition either when he was found again. His memory, according to the St Mungo's reports, had been affected as he struggled to recall memories but was able to form new ones. His parents had been petitioning against the idea of letting him return to school until the last minute. Saros had still yet to even come close to a full recovery and now Poppy found him in her care once more.

Upon his arrival, she made sure that he was comfortable, allowing him to rest in one of the beds and made sure to heal the small bruising he sustained. There was no telling when he would wake, but since he was the only student currently in the castle, she was able to dedicate all of her time to monitoring him. She had been reading over a series of memory charms and healing spells, none of which would be able to do the trick, when she finally heard him stir from his sleep.

Lifting her head up, Poppy watched for a second as Saros attempted to push himself up in the bed, allowing her to quickly make her way over to assist him. He appeared more than surprised when she reached his side to help as he turned his head and looked at her.

"Madam Pomfrey?"

Relief washed over her to know that he at least recognised her as she quickly nodded her head in confirmation.

"Are you alright, Saros?" she asked, throwing all formalities out the window for the time being. "Do you remember what happened to you on the train?"

He moved to sit a bit straighter, touching his hand to the side of his head as he closed his eyes. There appeared to be some pain that he was experiencing but he didn't mention it right away, only taking it upon himself to answer the question.

"Yes, I was talking to Harry Potter and I was with Luna and.and they were telling me all these things and I got upset," he said quietly, " and then I just kept getting this stabbing motion in my head. It hurt like hell and I couldn't take it anymore. I fell and that was it, I guess I ended up here? Did I miss the Start of Term feast?"

"No, you were removed from the Hogwarts Express," she calmly explained, " and you were brought here to see what you needed. Is there anything else, Saros, anything you liked to discuss? Did you remember anything else?"

She wasn't trying to pry for information, but she needed to know the source of the pain. But Poppy only watched as Saros shook his head. " No, at least, I don't think so. I just feel really tired right now."

With a nod of her head, Poppy understood what it was best to allow Saros to rest. She informed him that the Hogwarts Express still have more than a couple of hours before it arrived at the Hogsmeade Station, giving him time to sleep if he wished. If he was feeling up to it later, he would be allowed to venture down to the Great Hall to join in on the feast.  Poppy advised that if he needed anything to just call out to her before she pushed herself up and left him to the bed.

However, even as she took a few steps away and looked over her shoulder, she could see the look on Saros' face as his eyes followed her. He no longer looked confused, but he was definitely thinking about something. When he was caught, he quickly looked away and fell back into the bed, turning on his side so that they were no longer facing each other. Poppy worried about the boy that had practically become like a son to her over the course of time, but she could not interfere under orders even if she wished to.

Saros was going to have to come to her if he wished to seek help, but she wasn't sure just what she could do to help him.

Saros remained on his side, but only his body was at rest as his mind was swimming or rather drowning in a series of thoughts. Not only did his mind continue to return to the conversations he shared with Harry and Luna, but he had also lied to Madam Pomfrey when it came to her question of whether or not he remembered anything else. He didn't want to admit to anything right away, mainly because he was unsure of whether what he remembered was true or something his mind had made up.

He found himself attending the Quidditch World Cup, not the one where he had lost his leg, but the one where he was older. He was in the company of his family, enjoying the day and the events that surrounded the match. And then night fell and for some reason, he had wandered out of the tent only to come upon a scene that left him completely uncomfortable. There was a family lifted in the air, held there against their will as their eyes were wide with fear. Suddenly, Saros watched as the woman was turned upside down, exposing her knickers to the public.

Those responsible were hooded figures, while people all around them were screaming and running away, they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"Mrs Roberts," he found the name whispered through his own lips as he stared at the wall ahead of him on the bed. It was the name of the woman and then another piece planted itself before him. He remembered when they first arrived at the Quidditch World Cup and they were greeted by a man that introduced himself as Mr Roberts, the one that directed them where to go. 

"Mother," Draco's voice echoed in his mind, " why do they have a muggle in charge of something like this?"

It was Lucius, who answered the question. "Unfortunately, it's due to the fact that they own this land," he huffed.

And then it was Saros, who actually spoke out. "But wouldn't it just be smart to subdue them while we're here so we don't have to deal with the likes of them?"

"One would think, but the muggle sympathisers in the Ministry would never agree to such a thing. They would deem it cruel."

Everything seemed to jump so quickly that it made Saros wonder if it was all true or not, however, it felt real. The memories felt like he had been present for them and not something that his mind could make up so easily. Not to mention, why would his mind make up the Roberts family? The jumps were leaving him sick to his stomach, but the last one seemed to make it all abundantly clear.

Saros found himself returning home, his mother waiting on him with a worried expression on her face as she raced over to where he was.

"Are you alright?" she whispered to him. "What happened? I woke up in the tent and you were gone. I was so worried and then-"

"I couldn't sleep for a little bit," Saros said, " I figured I could just walk around and stretch my legs and then Father and his friends decided-"

"Saros!" Lucius raised his voice as his son had pointed a finger right in his direction. " It was not intended that-"

"It doesn't matter what was intended or not! What matters is that it happened and it happened because of you and your friends! You couldn't just leave it be, could you? Couldn't it have just ended on a good note? The Irish won, we were all happy and the evening was over, you should have just left it there! We were this close to successfully enjoying the World Cup without incident and then you decided to mess everything up!"

"I did not lead it, I was summoned-"

Saros rolled his eyes at his father's excuse. "And what great punishment would have fallen upon you if you said no? If you told them that you had your family to consider. You could have brought us home and we could have avoided all of it. We could have come home and then you could have gone back and taunted the muggles, but instead...you ruined everything. And for what, Father? I just want to know, for what? Why was it so important to you to fling a muggle woman in the air and expose her knickers for the world to see?"

Narcissa gasped behind him, looking at her husband with a look of disgust.

"Oh yes, Mother, it was quite the sight," Saros scoffed loudly, " watching the woman attempt to cover herself. Muggle or not, it was disgusting and I honestly didn't see the purpose of humiliating her in such a way. You told me when I was a boy that muggles were the ones to be feared, due to their hunts and random attacks, but since growing up, I've only come to witness that from my own kind."

As the memory seemed to fade, Saros didn't even realise that he had been crying until he felt a stray tear slide over his nose and hit the pillow that his head was resting on. The only thing he could hear was what Harry Potter had said to him on the train.

"How much do you know about the dark wizard named Voldemort? Better yet, how much are you aware of your family's involvement with him?"

The better question that Saros had, was how much did he want to know?

Eventually, Saros did manage to fall asleep during his time in the Hospital Wing and was able to rest for a couple of hours before Madam Pomfrey came to wake him up. She gave him a gentle shake until he finally opened his eyes.

"The train arrived at the Hogsmeade Station a little while ago," she announced, " would you like to make your way down to the Great Hall or should I have them bring some food up?"

He thought about it for a moment, knowing that he was probably going to be bombarded with questions by Draco, but the longer he waited, the worse it would probably become.

"I'll head down, thank you."

Madam Pomfrey offered a faint smile before advising him to put on his robes. He was about to tell her that his robes were left on the train, until he saw her point in the direction of his trunk that was provided for him. With his own smile, he lifted it up the robes, only to watch as an envelope fell out of them. He paused for a moment, glancing up to see if Madam Pomfrey had noticed, but she was too preoccupied with whatever she was doing on the other side.

He collected it off the floor and opened it to find a letter, only it wasn't to him but from him.

Dear Mother,

I suppose this is it, the moment where I announce to you that I've finally realised that you two are both in the wrong. For years, I looked up to the two of you, allowing you to guide me through life and hopefully set me on the right path to success. But now, I can see that you two don't understand the true damage you are doing. Your prejudices against muggles and muggle-borns isn't out of fear as you had me believe when I was younger, it's out of pure hate. I've realised that now and to be honest, I'm disappointed in the two of you.

You make it sound like it's my fault, but it's not and I know that now. These people aren't mudbloods or any of those slurs that you throw around with ease, they are people. They are people who deserve respect, you preached politeness and respect to me from a young age, but its something you can't even exhibit to people that are different in your eyes. But I won't allow myself to follow that same ignorant mindset.

I trusted you and Father to guide myself and Draco, but you've done a poor job. I will gladly associate with those that you look down upon because I experience so much more happiness, rather than being trapped in our limited community. You might still have Draco under your hold, but I hope one day he will wake up too and see what you two are doing.

And for the record, I have never held the incident at the World Quidditch Cup against you and I never would. I know it wasn't your fault, but I see your motherly love for me that you've claim that you always had for me is only conditional. Especially if you want to end your letter with a threat about what will come back to bite me. Seems to be in poor taste, Mother, but I guess I'll just get used to it now.

You and Father failed me, maybe you can improve for Draco's sake before it's too late and you just create another cycle of hate. If not, so be it, but I'm not going to be included in it anymore.

I've surrounded myself with people that support me and encourage me for the better, I'll take to hanging around those "sorts."

If you wish to be civilised and discuss changing, I will agree to talk to you, until then, leave your passive-aggressive letters to someone else, I don't wish to be bothered anymore with them. I joined the Triwizard Tournament, hoping to prove myself to you and Father, until I came to realise that I don't have to prove myself to you two. It's you two that have to prove yourself worthy to me at this point

Merry Christmas,

Saros.

A letter from him addressed to his mother during Christmas time and it certainly did not hold the jolly spirit of the holiday. Saros stared at it over and over, before realising there was a small card attached, addressed to him.

Just in case you needed an extra push.

-A.S.

A.S. had struck again and this time they had provided evidence that Saros was able to physically hold. He could recognise his own handwriting, which meant at Christmas time last year, he had written the letter to his mother. The feelings expressed in the letter seemed to match with what he had seen in his memories, especially pertaining to the World Quidditch Cup and his reaction towards his father. But if this was a letter addressed to his mother, how the hell did A.S. get their hands on it?

Author's Note: Who's ready for Mama Umbridge next chapter? :)