A/N (16 May 2016): And without further ado, Year Six! *Throws major party since it's been so long and y'all have been so patient with me and my writer's block. Here, have a cookie. And a balloon. Oh, and here, try this homemade ice cream in a flavor of your choice. Oh, and here have this item of your choosing you've always wanted.* And now that you've been plied with presents, here's the bad news: it's not done. I've been STUCK for MONTHS upon MONTHS. I hope that in starting to post this, I can get the freaking middle written with the added pressure of having y'all reading. So, uh, here. Have some more cookies. *Holds out huge platter of whatever cookie you want*

Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. Parts taken from Deathly Hallows by JKR.

Paved With Good Intentions

Draco Malfoy was a time traveller. He didn't time travel often, just once. He'd lived with the fact he was a time traveller for six years. He'd told his best friend Harry Potter (who didn't believe him the first time) and his other best friend Hermione Granger had figured it out on her own. Professor Lupin, Sirius Black, Tom Riddle the Former Not Ghost, and Regulus Black all knew Draco was a time traveller due to Atlanta D. Black, also known as Addy, who Draco had somehow accidentally thrown back to 1976 when he'd sent his magic and soul back to his eleven-year-old body, which was not located near 1976.

The only other person Draco thought knew he was a time traveller was Luna Lovegood, and only because she was so strange. Harry was convinced due to an offhand comment and earring change in their fourth year she was Time—the mad woman who lived in a box as theorized by a slightly mad man who wrote a book that was eerily right yet still somewhat hard to wrap ones mind around about time travel.

While a lot of people knew Draco had time travelled, his mother did not. Draco had not told her. She'd blindsided him with a simple question, asked in a casual manner as if she'd simply asked him about his day.

She had not, though. She'd asked if he when he planned to tell her he was a time traveller.

Narcissa Malfoy was now staring at Draco, who for the past five minutes had been wordlessly opening and closing his mouth unable to find words.

She sighed.

"I want you to at least congratulate me on figuring it out on my own," she said, shaking her head and going back to the papers on her desk. "It took me quite a bit of time to parse out time travel was involved. It took me mere moments after I reasoned time travel into the equation to pin point when you'd changed and finally know the reason for this change."

"How?"

Narcissa glanced up, folding a piece of parchment and stuffing it in an envelope. "Sirius and Regulus look to you when something major occurs— as if you know what the outcome. It happened when Regulus returned and it occurred after Sirius was attacked last winter. It was then I began to contemplate time travel. I guessed you must have used an illegal and highly dangerous method to travel back to your eleven-year-old self, as that was when your behavior changed drastically. At the time, I brushed it off as you growing up, but that wasn't it at all. You were too mature, too different."

Draco pressed his lips together. Narcissa paused in what she was doing, stilling her hands and causing silence to fall in the room.

"It was bad, wasn't?" She glanced up, meeting his eye.

"Yes."

She nodded, looking back down at the letters on her desk. "We were on the wrong side."

"Yes."

Narcissa nodded once more, checking something off on a list. "Anything I ought to worry about this coming school year?"

"No."

Narcissa sharply looked up at Draco. "Do not coddle me. I am your mother, no matter where you came from."

"I know you're my mother, but unless you know a way to prevent Marv from…well, from giving Nott the task of killing Dumbledore due to his father's failure at life, then…"

"It was you last time," Narcissa stated.

Draco nodded. "I couldn't do it. Snape did it."

Narcissa looked shocked. "Severus? That makes no sense."

Draco squirmed under her intense scrutiny. "He is a Death Eater."

Narcissa laughed in diversion. "He is not. Rid—Marv lost his loyalty when he went after Lily Potter."

"Because they were friends?" Draco asked.

Narcissa eyed him. "Yes. They'd been friends since childhood."

Draco nodded.

"I believe it was a friendship like you and Hermione, only it went sour due to his interest in the Dark Arts then his political leanings."

Draco frowned. Though, if life was different, and Marv went after Hermione, he might— no. Draco couldn't understand.

"Then why did he kill Dumbledore if he's on our side?"

Narcissa sat back in her chair and stared hard at a spot over Draco's shoulder. She didn't say anything for five minutes. Draco shifted on his feet uneasily.

"I've no answer for you now. Have you told Dumbledore?"

"About what?"

"That you've time travelled."

"Not exactly. I believe he knows. He was instructed by Addy Black, you know the one that was at Hogwarts in the 1970s? He was instructed by her to give me a letter should I do something that appeared out of character."

"Addy Black?" Narcissa questioned.

"Yeah. She was…Well, her name was Atlanta Siria Black and I had known her as a child. I never really liked her too much and when I started school, I cut off all contact. She went to school in America and I saw her maybe twice before the night I time travelled. I don't know how, but she got sent back to 1976 when I sent myself back to 1991."

Narcissa gasped, her light blue eyes going impossibly wide.

"I've never outright told Dumbledore," Draco went on. "I try not to tell people."

"Besides Sirius and Regulus, who knows? Does Harry know?"

"Yes. I told him first year, but he didn't believe me. Hermione figured it out on her own second year."

Narcissa appeared rather pleased by this information.

"And third year it all came out because Lupin and Sirius knew due to being friends with Addy. I was the Malfoy boy she was yelling for when she arrived."

Narcissa nodded. "Who is Tom?"

"What do you mean? He's TR DeVinette's son."

"No. He's not," Narcissa said, giving him a look that said I am not stupid. "Who is he really?"

"Tom Riddle."

"The Tom Riddle?"

"A Tom Riddle," Draco sighed, then told his mother the tale of how Tom Riddle the Former Not Ghost came into being and wound up a Real Boy.

"That is why Harry looked uncomfortable when I referred to Voldemort as Riddle," Narcissa realized, looking away and out the window besides the desk.

"Yeah. They're…friends."

Narcissa snorted. "If you say so, dear."

Draco pressed his lips together.

"Is there anything else I do not know?"

Draco looked helpless and worked hard not to shrug at his mother.

"Tom is TR DeVinette," Draco offered.

"I figured as much. Tom Riddle Riddle," she muttered. "So, nothing else?"

Draco shook his head, wearing a helpless expression.

"So, this coming school year, what might Nott be likely to do?" Narcissa inquired.

"Well, since Time likes to make Nott a clone of myself, he'll try to kill Dumbledore with a cursed necklace and poisoned mead and fail at getting these items to Dumbledore, but they'll fall into the hands of Gryffindors. He will spend most of the year trying to mend the Vanishing Cabinet."

"Well, we cannot let him do that."

"We might not be able to stop him," Draco quietly said. "It leads to the big showdown at the end of the summer and—"

"There are fixed points in time, yes. I read that book. That is the time theory you subscribe to?"

"Well, yes. It seems correct from past experience," Draco offered.

Narcissa nodded, looking away once more. "We ought to tell Dumbledore his life is in danger."

"What if…Dumbeldore's right hand was black at the start of the school year," Draco remembered. "He tried to hide it, but it was visible and…and when I went to…." Draco waved his hand, unable to say it, but he didn't need to, as his mother nodded for him to continue, "On the roof where I….cornered him, he was very weak. I disarmed him."

"You disarmed him?"

"Yes. I disarmed Dumbledore. With the same spell Harry and Potter used to save their lives fourth year."

"Potter is the Harry Potter from the previous timeline?"

Draco nodded and Narcissa waved a hand for Draco to continue his tale.

"Dumbledore kept…falling down the ramparts as if he couldn't stay up. I didn't think of it much at the time…" Draco trailed off.

"You were scared out of your mind," Narcissa softly said.

"He said he'd kill you if I failed," Draco whispered, huddling into himself.

Draco had not thought about sixth year much since returning, save for when he had to write the highlights on the Time Travel Parchment of Fun Times for Hermione. He'd glossed over many things so he didn't have to contemplate them deeply.

He felt arms around him and the comforting smell of his mother surrounded him.

"You were just a boy," she quietly said. "Force to pay for your father's mistakes."

"Snape said you and him had made an Unbreakable Vow," Draco remembered. "I don't know about what, but…"

"Oh," Narcissa breathed. "That could explain why Severus…I might have asked him to do it if you failed."

Draco had never thought of that before.

"Nott does not have a mother do to that for him," Naricssa realized, holding Draco tighter. "Lady Nott died years ago."

Draco nodded, holding onto his mother like a small child. He didn't care he was sixteen going on whatever. He needed his mother.

"But, if Dumbledore is dying from a curse, he might have requested Severus do it to save your soul and to prevent him from a terrible, painful death," Narcissa muttered into Draco's shoulder.

Draco was so much taller than his mother this time around. Then again, by this point he'd stopped letting his mother hug him, so how was he to really know?

"Besides Dumbledore's death, what occurred?"

"Nothing really…it was a rather quiet school year," Draco admitted. "Granted, I did not pay much attention as I was occupied by my task. I mean…there were a lot of deaths reported I think, but I can't remember everyone who died."

"Understandable," Narcissa murmured. "Well, let's not think on it now."

"Dumbledore's death led to Voldemort gaining control of the Ministry of Magic and taking over everywhere," Draco whispered.

"Well, I will not let that happen," Narcissa proclaimed, pushing away from Draco and holding him at arm's length. "The only way to gain control in the Ministry would be to do away with the Minister and put a puppet in, correct?"

Draco nodded.

"He did this?"

Draco nodded.

"He will not this time," Narcissa vowed.

"What will you do?"

Narcissa smirked. "What I am good at: plotting and carrying it out. Do not worry. I will speak to Dumbledore about placing Order members in the Minister's cabinet."

"They were already—"

"And myself."

"But…but…but…"

Narcissa smiled sharply. "I'm not simply a society witch. Nor does it make me happy. I'd like to get my hands dirty."

Severus Snape did not often run, partly due to the nature of his clothing and partly due to his physic. He was gangly—tall and thin. His legs had never handled running well.

He ran now, though, forsaking his pride.

Severus shouted the inane password and shot up the stairs. The sight that greeted him inside the office was worse than expected. He rushed across the room to the slumped headmaster, kneeling down and drawing his wand out.

Stupid, stupid, stupid man.

Severus looked at the blackened hand, glanced at the ring and fang on the desk, then hurried to find a golden goblet to pour the potion into before he began the incantations to keep the curse contained to Dumbledore's hand. Severus dug around the overstuffed cabinet near where Dumbledore stored his Pensive. He dumped the potion into the goblet he procured and hurried back over to the slumped old man. He set the goblet on the desk, then placed the hand on the desk being careful not to touch it with his bare skin. Pointing his wand at the old man's wrist, he began muttering steady. When he came to the right point, he used his free hand to dump the potion down the headmaster's throat making sure the gold touched the old man's lips.

He finished his incantations and waited a moment for Dumbledore's eyelids to flutter open.

"Why would you put that ring on?" Severus demanded. "You realized the curse it carries is quite Dark since you've got the fang out."

Dumbledore grimaced as Severus waved his hand at the fang, eyes going back to the ring upon his desk. It was an ugly ring, old and crudely made. No one would notice it unless versed in magic due to the Dark magic pouring out. And anyone with a lick of sense would know not to touch it.

"I was a fool…an old fool," Dumbledore muttered, still staring at the ring. "Sorely tempted…"

"Tempted by what? The curse does not call out for a person to put it on," Severus remarked, turning back to the ring. He bent down and stuck his nose as close as he dared to the ring. "And you stabbed it with the fang. You stabbed the stone. So, there was more than one curse on this ring?"

Severus turned his attention to Dumbledore when he did not answer but sighed deeply. Upon seeing the faraway expression on the old man's face, Severus pressed his lips together and took a few steps away from the desk.

"I contained the curse to your hand," Severus stated. "I don't know how you even…never mind. The curse is powerful, though, so while contained, it will spread eventually."

Dumbledore lifted his withered, blackened right hand and examined it with a mild expression of interest.

"Very well done, Severus. How long do you think I have?" Dumbledore inquired conversationally.

Severus mashed his lips together and fisted his hands. "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. I've only halted it and the curse is one that will grow stronger as it festers."

"Of course," Dumbledore said agreeably. "I wouldn't expect less."

Dumbledore turned his attention to Severus and smiled.

"I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, I have you, Severus."

Severus puffed out an annoyed breath. "If you'd called me sooner, I'd've been able to do more. Given you more time. You stabbed the stone but were unable to stab the…ring?"

"So it seems. In my…haste, I failed to see the second curse. I expect that was the point, though."

Severus frowned, knitting his eyebrows together. He bent over and stuck his nose as close to the ugly ring as he dared. He studied the stone carefully. It had a crude design that was visible even though the stone was cracked down the middle, but it wasn't one he recognized. Looked somewhat like maybe a triangle with a circle inside. The crack was down the middle, jutting of to the side. There might be a line down the middle.

"In due time, Severus. In due time," Dumbledore assured, straightening himself in the chair.

Severus glanced at him before going back to studying the ring. He stared at the symbol. The longer he looked, the more familiar it seemed. Severus remembered rather suddenly where he'd seen the symbol before: history books. It had been the mark Grindelwald, which wasn't really his mark but the symbol for the Deathly Hallows— something Grindelwald believed in. Severus slowly raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore's as he straightened.

"That's the thing Regulus Black has been searching for, isn't it?"

"What makes you say that?"

Severus shrugged. He didn't know exactly what Regulus Black did for the Order, nor did he believe the story the boy had been "abroad" and was a bastard of Alphard Black's. He was somehow the Regulus Black Severus had known who'd vanished along with Atlanta D. Black. The Dark Lord had professed to killing Atlanta D. Black, but Regulus Black wasn't a death he claimed. (He'd taken his wrath at loosing Regulus on Bellatrix, not that she'd really cared. She was so twisted that any attention the Dark Lord paid her caused her joy.)

"Well, this makes matters more straight forwards," Dumbledore proclaimed, looking at his useless hand.

Severus gave Dumbledore a perplexed look.

"I am talking about Lord Voldemort's plan to kill me, Severus," Dumbledore cheerfully explained, smiling and twinkling. "I believe he's assigned the task to Theodore Nott as punishment for his father failures?"

Severus stiffly nodded, sitting down in the chair across from Dumbledore. "He concluded if he gave the task to the other two boys…"

"It'd not be done properly?" Dumbledore offered.

"I believe he feared they'd actually succeed."

"Hmmm," Dumbledore hummed.

"Yes, the Dark Lord wishes to slowly torture the Nott family. If you die, it is simply a bonus."

"Theodore is the only son of that branch, is he not?"

Severus nodded. "The families future rides on Mr Nott."

Dumbledore made an amused noise once again. "I expect Mr Nott has a price upon his head, would you say not?"

"Yes."

"And the life of his aunt is on the line, correct?"

"Correct. The woman raised him," Severus supplied.

"She is not a Death Eater."

"No, but she is being currently…entertained at Malfoy Manor."

Dumbledore snorted. "Well, assuming Mr Nott fails as expected, I think you a natural successor to the job."

Severus blinked.

"Lord Voldemort sees a future where he will have no need for a Hogwart's spy, I believe."

"He believes the school will be in his grasp if you are gone, yes," Severus whispered. "While he doesn't believe Nott will do the job, someone else will. Nott's goal is to let in his fellow Death Eaters. Somehow."

"When this occurs, do I have your word you will protect Hogwart's students?"

Severus sat up straight. "Of course."

"Good. Now, your first priority will be to stop Draco Malfoy from trying to foil Mr Nott's attempts to kill me."

"Pardon?" Severus asked, staring askance at the headmaster.

"Oh, yes, you don't know. Draco Malfoy is a time traveller. Has been since he began school. No, don't look at me like that. I always knew a Malfoy was going to be a time traveller, just not which one. It's not important. What is important, likely, is Draco will try to save my life. I am sure I died in the last timeline."

Severus blinked a few times and pushed his nails into his palms as hard as he could, but he didn't wake up.

"If you were the one to kill me last time—"

"What are you talking about?"

"Time travel."

"Draco time travelled when he was eleven?"

"No. He sent his soul back in time from when he was older to his eleven-year-old self. I try not to ask too many questions."

Severus stared.

"Now, as I was saying, if you did killed me in the last timeline, it's likely Draco and company will try to prevent you from doing so this time, but you must not let them. Nor let them interfere with Mr Nott's labors."

Severus bent his head and kneaded his forehead. "Let me get this straight. Draco Malfoy is from the future, has lived this life once before?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"And you are assuming in his first life I killed you?"

"As you will do so again."

"Pardon?"

"You must do the deed, Severus."

"Oh, excuse me. When would you like me to do it? Now? Do you need a few moments to write up an epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet, Severus. There are a few things I must get done before I depart," Dumbledore replied easily. "Given what happened tonight, I'd daresay I have a year to get an epitaph written, don't you agree?"

"If you don't mind dying, why not let Nott do it?"

"That boy's soul is not yet damaged," Dumbledore pointed out. "I would not have it ripped apart on my behalf."

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Does that mean nothing?"

"You alone know if doing this will damage your soul. You would not be murdering me, but saving me from pain and humiliation of dying from this curse," Dumbledore quietly said, holding his hand up. "Death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish at the bottom of the league once more this year. I confess I'd prefer a quick and painless exit than a messy one. I know it is a lot to ask of a person, Severus, but you are the only one who I trust to do this."

Severus doubted that a little, but nodded nonetheless. Killing Dumbledore was an undertaking no Death Eater had been able to achieve. Even the Dark Lord himself had failed.

"Now, I would ask you, Severus, to rid this ring of the curse it still holds. I wish to return it to its proper owner."

Severus stared at the headmaster blankly before sighing deeply.

Tom Riddle had not set foot on Diagon Alley since the 1930s. While there were some shops that had changed, evolved, or vanished all together, Olivander's store front had remained the same, right up to the buildup of dust on the wands displayed in the front window.

"Are we going in?" Lupin asked mildly.

"Yes," Tom decided, marching forward.

Tom was looking forward to getting a wand of his own, yet knew Ollivander would see through their cover story and that made him nervous. Luckily, upon entering, the shop was void of people. It wasn't back to school season, so it would likely remain so. Letting himself relax a little, Tom gazed around. The shop looked frozen in time— it even smelled the same. For all Tom knew, the same dust that had been in the shop when he had first ventured in over fifty years prior was still sitting around.

"Ah. Interesting," came a quiet voice from the shadows.

"Mr Ollivander," Lupin greeted.

"Mr Lupin, I am sorry for your loss," Ollivander lamented in a soothing, yet creepy manner. "She was a powerful witch, phoenix feather and monterillo, thirteen and a half inches. Rather long for such a small child."

Lupin looked as if he swallowed a lemon. Ollivander's eerie, silvery eyes moved to Tom and he stared.

He stared for ten minutes.

"I've seen a version of you before. Very secretive and independent the first time you were here, were you not?" the spooky eyes drifted to Lupin for a moment before landing back on Tom.

"Yes."

"How you've changed."

Tom didn't respond. The tapes appeared and began to measure Tom while Ollivander went on staring. Tom stayed still till Ollivander hummed and the tape measure and the old man vanished into the stacks of wands. It felt like a lifetime before the old man appeared with a few boxes and set them down on the table that appeared next to Tom.

"You will need a rare wand, something out of the ordinary as you will never be mundane," Ollivander offered, blowing on the boxes and making dust fly into the air. "Your counterpart has a yew wand, phoenix feather, thirteen and a half inches."

"Correct."

Ollivander hummed, then ordered, "Try this."

Tom took the offered wand. Upon feeling nothing, he handed it back. Ollivander took another wand out before vanishing into the stacks again. Tom waved the wand, put it back into the box, and covered it up. He waited till Ollivander handed him the box with the wand in it. Frowning, Tom opened the box and stared at the most beautiful wand he'd ever seen. It was a reddish brown wood with an interesting grain that went sideways instead of up and down like most wands Tom had seen. He glanced up at Ollivander.

"It's Ziricote," Ollivander whispered as he moved closer. "Rare wood. I hardly ever use it as it must be imported from South America and they hoard it down there for their own wands. Unless the Muggles get it."

"What do they make out of it?"

"Mostly musical instruments. Guitars," Ollivander said.

Tom looked at him sharply, remembering the gorgeous guitar his counterpart had made for Atlanta Lupin before he'd given into his horrible nature.

"The core?" Tom inquired.

He knew this was his wand. He could feel the hum around his hands from just holding it in the box.

"Dragon heartstring," Ollivander replied. "Twelve inches. A little shorter than…."

"Good," Tom proclaimed, picking the wand up.

Before he could even cast a spell the wand sent sparks of happiness out the end. Tom smiled, as it'd been so long since he'd actually held a wand—other than Harry's. But he'd been unable to cast a spell with Harry's wand before Harry took it back, so now, he cast his first spell in nineteen years. And there was one charm he was dying to try, especially with his new found emotions and ability to feel happiness and love.

"Tom?" Lupin quietly asked, likely seeing the look on Tom's face.

Tom smiled softly, recalling his most happiest memory. It was not of him being solid. It was not a memory of creating spells and making heaps of gold. No. It was the memory of his friends, because Tom Marvolo Riddle the Former Not Ghost had friends. He recalled a moment from the previous summer where he and Harry sat in his room simply listening to whatever terrible music Harry was currently into. Tom remembered thinking as he watched Harry dance badly around his room (if you could call it dancing) how happy he was.

"Expecto Patronum," Tom whispered and watched an elk burst out of his wand and gallop around the small room before standing before Tom. Tom let out a shaky laugh before he collapsed to the ground. "Brilliant. Just brilliant."

"Is that…" Lupin trailed off as the elk became wispy and vanished.

"It's an elk," Ollivander helpfully said. "Mostly seen in North America. Some in the Rocky Mountains or areas of the like."

Lupin's eyes looked like they were about to burst out of his head.

"Don't tell Harry," Tom whispered, getting to his feet and brushing himself off.

"It's your story to tell, Tom," Lupin professed quietly.

Tom shot Lupin a dirty look before he carefully placed the wand back into the box, wrapping it back up in the green silk. Ollivander took it and wrapped it up in paper and placed it into a bag. He turned back to Tom and told him the price.

The price had gone up quite a bit since Tom's original wand purchase.

Ollivander smiled, his slivery grey eyes glinting in the dim lighting of the shop. "You will do great things with this wand. And not terrible things, but great things."

Tom nodded stiffly and handed over the gold. He took the bag and quickly exited the shop, Lupin on his heels.

"Don't you even look smug," Tom warned without looking at Lupin.

"Why would I look smug?"

"Because," Tom said but didn't elaborate.

"Because, when he's not trapped at the Dursleys or Hogwarts, I tend to find a certain black haired boy in my flat every morning looking as if he slept there?" Lupin innocently inquired. "Or because the animal lives in North America, in the Rocky Mountains where your best friend spent her formative years?"

Tom stopped walking, turning to look Lupin in the eye.

"It makes sense, does it not? Harry's takes the form of a stag due to his father, who he looks up to and loves without question. Hermione's in an otter— otters are quite clever."

"Lily's was a doe," Lupin quietly said.

Tom blinked.

"Severus' is also a doe."

Tom blinked again.

"Mine happens to be a great, big, slobbery dog," Lupin said. "Even after all these years."

"I won't mention that to Sirius if you don't mention the elk to Harry."

"Oh, Tom. The elk could be for so many reasons other than Harry. McGonagall's is a cat. Maybe you're destined to turn into an elk?" Lupin smiled, clapping Tom on the shoulder.

Lupin did this often, as if to assure himself Tom was in fact solid. Tom would never admit it, but he liked it. He'd been terrified (not that he'd concede that either) Lupin would reject him due to the fact his own daughter had to die in order for Tom to be solid. Lupin, being the lovely soul he was, didn't see it like this at all. His daughter was dying and instead of simply perishing and leaving Tom stranded, she granted him life with her own (and Harry's horcrux—they were positive, since Harry no longer was an Emotional Voldemort Detector and his head was no longer leaking Marv's ugly soul magic). Tom did worry that Lupin might try to over parent Tom, but never having a parental figure before, he wasn't sure how he'd spot this or not. So far, other than the extra manly touching, Lupin was the same— sadder, but mostly the same.

"Do you want to finish the rest of your school shopping?"

"I don't have the book list," Tom pointed out.

"Ah, but we know the basics," Lupin said, dropping his hand from Tom's shoulder. "You'll need a chest, robes, potion ingredients, scales, cauldron, and those sorts of things. Oh, a broom?"

"If I wish to have a broom, I'll use one of the hundreds Sirius has," Tom pointed out. "Why the man has so many brooms is beyond me."

"People send them for Harry," Lupin muttered. "Or do you wish to wait a few weeks till the others go shopping for their school supplies. The lists ought to come out after Harry's birthday."

Tom studied the street. "Let's do robes and the big stuff today. I should have my OWL scores soon, and until then I won't know what I'm taking, so I'll wait until the lists come out to buy books."

"I cannot believe Dumbledore found a way for you to take the OWLs," Lupin chuckled, shaking his head. "Robes first?"

Tom nodded and the pair set off for the robe shop.