Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

August 3rd, 1991

Harry supposes that it’s not exactly a surprise that he’s a wizard.

He’s always been a little bit … different.

The Dursley’s would use the word freaky. Harry didn't like that word.

But Harry couldn’t deny the premise behind their insinuations and accusations.

Harry had a habit of doing odd things.

Like the door on his cupboard unlocking without anyone actually opening it.

Or small items levitating around him.

Or even teleporting away from Dudley and his friends that one time.

The weirdest part was that sometimes, Harry could control it.

Like the number of times he was able to make it quiet outside of the cupboard, like Harry was sleeping, but he was in fact awake and making noise.

Or the time Harry was able to stop that rock Dudley threw.

Harry smirked at that particular memory. He doesn’t relish in the look of fear on Dudley’s face in that moment, but he does enjoy the fact that Dudley has stopped tormenting him since then. Perhaps that event was the catalyst for his cousin's more tolerant behavior in recent years, though Harry can only guess on whether that is true or not.

So no, it wasn’t a surprise when Harry discovered he was a wizard.

He figured it wouldn’t even be the strangest thing about him, considering his unbonded status. Truthfully, being a wizard seems tame in comparison to the daily struggle of having no definitive attachments to another human being.

But what did surprise Harry on July 31st was the knowledge that the family he previously thought was dead was actually alive.

His father, mother, and twin brother … all alive.

Apparently, he even had a little sister now, Rose Potter. She’s three years younger, 10 years old right now.

All alive. Supposedly all happy.

All bonded.

That particular bit of knowledge led to the first burst of anger Harry can remember since his fifth birthday.

But Harry doesn’t talk about his fifth birthday. Otherwise Uncle Vernon may remind Harry … and Harry doesn’t want that.

But of course, none of the Dursley’s even realized that Harry was raging at the knowledge of his abandonment and unmarked status.

Because of course Harry managed to make everything that took place outside the cupboard silent that night.

So Harry screamed, and cried, and yelled, and sobbed, and questioned, and despaired. And no one was the wiser.

No one ever was.

Harry didn't even notice Dudley's worried glances the next morning, when Harry served his "family" breakfast, too lost in his own thoughts to even deign his former tormenter a second look as he fled the room.

Harry was all alone. So Harry did what any reasonable person would do in his circumstances.

He cried. And then he thought of how to get away from his current life.

And Harry knew he would do whatever it took to get out of his current hell.

So when Harry was woken up early the next morning and given his belated birthday present, he stayed silent. Even thanked his Aunt and Uncle for their “gift”.

The fifty-pence piece was the first gift he ever received from his relatives that wasn't completely useless. Instead it was just mostly useless.

The fifty pound note from Dudley, slipped into his hand later in the afternoon was much more surprising.

Dudley stared at Harry with sorrowful eyes.

"I'm sorry," Dudley whispers. "About their gift. Here."

"Dudley-"

"I don't know if you can even use it there," Dudley says. "But take it. Just in case."

Harry nods.

Over the past few years, Harry's relationship with his cousin has been complicated. At first, Dudley was his greatest tormentor, besides possibly Marge and her "dog". But ever since they turned ten, and Harry finally gathered the courage to stand up to his cousin, using his "freakiness" to do so, Dudley has been much more timid around his cousin.

"Harry Hunting" never happened again, at least not with Dudley in charge. It took almost two years for Dudley to convince his "friends" and bondmates to stop the tradition, but eventually they did when the bigger boy decided to throw his weight around to end the tradition.

Dudley never demanded anything out of Harry after that day. At first Harry thought it was out of fear, but that should have faded long ago, as Harry has never threatened or acted against his cousin since.

The kinship between the two cousins only seemed to grow more in the past year, as Dudley has taken a more active role in keeping other tormentors away from his unbonded relative, often at the expense of his own reputation.

But Dudley still watches, as Harry is forced to act as a servant to his own family. As he sleeps in the cupboard under the stairs. He watches when Aunt Petunia scolds him or Uncle Vernon shoves him.

And part of Harry can’t blame the boy. He would be frightened too, after seeing what the elder Dursley’s are capable of.

Part of Harry wishes they could both escape from the house, Harry from the inevitable abuse, and Dudley from the looming hand of it when his parents finally tire of only torturing one child.

But another part of Harry, a selfish part, wants to flee. Wants to get as far away from them that he can.

Harry intended to do what it took to get out of this hell hole.

Even if it involves sucking up to the very same people who put him here in the first place.

So when James and Lily show up, with the two bonded Potter children in tow, Harry just smiles widely and greets them warmly.

On the inside Harry felt like he was dying, seeing the bonds cascading down their arms, proudly shown off in this unbearably hot weather.

Harry wore his long sleeve hand me down, acting as if the suffocating hotness didn't bother him.

Because Harry had no attachments. No marks to distract from his pale skin. No bonds.

Harry had no one.

________________________________________

“So Harry,” James says politely, if not a bit tersely. “Do you need a completely new wardrobe or just a few new outfits? I see you wore your worst clothes today, so you could easily change out of them.”

Harry is not able to stop himself from flinching slightly. “These are my best clothes.”

And sadly that’s the truth. The tattered old sweater is hardly flattering and definitely too big for him, but at least the pattern has faded, getting rid of the ugly color scheme.

The pants have a few holes but is still mostly intact.

Lily turns away from Harry, a guilt-stricken look on her face before she wipes it away. James stares at Harry with blank stare. Charles frowns at his twin, and Rose just looked confused.

“What do you mean these are your nicest clothes?” Charles asks.

Harry just shrugs. “These jeans fit.”

“Well, we’ll definitely have to fix that. Do you happen to know your sizes?” James asks, almost monotone in his delivery.

He sounds almost bored. Bored of his new son already. Aren’t people supposed to be enthralled by shiny, new things?

Though, Harry is hardly shiny. And not exactly new either, more like the little trinket lost behind the couch ages ago that was just now dug up and being played with before eventually being forgotten again.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had clothes that fit correctly,” Harry answers.

“We’ll get you new clothes,” Lily says, and she bends down and looks Harry in the eye, in a motherly fashion. “Anything you want.”

Harry stares at the woman with thinly veiled disgust. At least James isn’t trying to pretend he has a role in Harry’s life. Lily seems keen on keeping up on the appearance of being Harry’s mother.

“Thank you Lily,” Harry says.

Lily frowns at Harry, staring at the boy almost searchingly in a way that makes Harry’s skin crawl. It’s as if she’s looking into his very soul as she stares into his eyes. She does this for a few seconds, before a sad smile crosses her face and she pulls away.

Lily nods and stands back up.

“Dad, you said I could meet up with Ron today?” Charles complains loudly and in such a manner that Harry can see the resemblance between Charles and Dudley, at least until Dudley started grow up. “The Weasleys are going to be here any minute!”

Rose visibly perks up at the mention of the Weasleys. She doesn’t like Charles’ smelly friend much, but the Weasley twins are funny and Ginny is really pretty.

“We did promise him Lily,” James says, suddenly much more involved in the conversation now that Charles is the center of attention.

“We almost promised that we would take Harry clothes shopping, and you know that’s going to take at least an hour. He can just meet them after.”

Charles looks over and glares at Harry.

Harry turns to face away from Charles. He bites back the scowl that threatens to cross his face.

“I can just do the clothes shopping with the shop assistants and you guys can have final picks afterwards. Just show back up in an hour or so.”

Charles and Rose both look hopeful and excited. Lily appears to have a thoughtful expression on her face and James just seems bored.

“That could work Lily. We really don’t need to be here while Harry picks out clothes,” James agrees.

Lily frowns. “Harry, are you sure?”

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes. There is Lily’s “motherly instinct” again. It would be nice if Harry suspected it was even partially true.

But no woman with actual “motherly instinct” towards him would abandon him with the Dursley’s for over a decade, without so much as a visit to confirm her own son’s safety. Harry trusts his “mother” about as far as he can throw her, which would a pathetic endeavor given his small stature. At least the rest of the Potters are showing their true colors. James is clearly disinterested, while Charles sees Harry as a nuisance. And Rose is just curious and clearly confused, not that he can blame his sister. He is just as confused by the situation.

“Sure, I do things on my own all the time. I’ll be fine.”

Lily frowns but relents from the pressure from the rest of her family. “Alright, we’ll be back in an hour sweetie.”

Harry just nods, pretending to not be bothered by the fact that Charles and Rose are practically dragging Lily away from him so they can get to the Weasleys faster.

Harry sighs when they are out of sight. He knows it was his idea, but the fact that his family was so quick to escape from him bothers him greatly.

It appears his new family members is just as unintrigued with him as the Dursley’s, if not even more so.

Harry enters Madam Malkin’s.

“Hello dear,” a shop worker exclaims excitedly. “Where are your parents?”

“They had an errand to run,” Harry says. “I was told I needed to get a full wardrobe, both magical and muggle wear, as well as the first year Hogwarts package. And I was supposed to give you this,” handing her a note from Lily.

Harry supposes it is some kind of note authorizing the shop worker to assist him and guaranteeing payment. The shop worker quickly gets to work.

“Right this way dearie,” the shop worker exclaims in a cheery voice that grates against Harry’s eardrums. “We have another person also being fitted, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Harry just nods and follows the animated worker.

“Just stand here sweetie, and I’ll get your measurements.”

“Um ok,” Harry says, looking at the woman curiously as she pulls out a tape measurer.

Suddenly the tape measurer starts to move, which causes Harry to yelp.

“It’s ok sweetie, it’s supposed to do that,” the worker says, clearly giggling a bit at Harry’s ignorance and embarrassment.

“Oh ok,” Harry says, glaring at the woman when she looks away from him.

A few minutes later another shopkeeper brings in a boy around his age.

“Hi,” the new boy greets, clearly very chipper.

“Hi,” Harry says, straining to stop himself from blushing.

It’s not Harry’s fault, he assures himself. After all, this boy is really cute. His perfectly tame chocolate brunette hair makes Harry jealous, especially with his moppy hair, and the boy has matching warm, dark hazel eyes to match. His jawline looks practically sculpted. Essentially, he’s a miniature tall, dark, and handsome.

After all, Harry supposes, it’s normal for him to find the boy attractive. He is thirteen after all, and its normal for boys his age to find other boys attractive. Girls too.

Well, not according to Petunia and Vernon, but since when does Harry listen to them.

“I’m Ward Michael Thorne-Diggory of the Ancient and Noble Diggory,” he says, extending his hand towards Harry.

Harry can see his marks. One of them is clearly a parental mark but Harry can see the fading edges of it, signaling the bond is not as strong as it was when it was created. The other one is much more defined, and it’s clearly not a familial bond. It doesn’t give off a familial tinge that those type of bonds do. It must be bond with a friend.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry says, shaking his hand, choosing to ignore the boys title for now, while also try to avoid any kind of faux pa. “My name is Harry. Harry Potter.”

Michael frowns.

Harry wonders if he said something wrong.

“Potter you said?”

“Yes.”

“Are you muggleborn?”

“A what?” Harry asks.

“I don’t mean to offend,” Michael assures Harry. “I was just wondering if you were a first-generation wizard or witch, which is called a muggleborn. The wizarding world refers to all non-magicals as muggles, so muggleborn just means that your magic was not from a bloodline and you were born from non-magicals.”

“I see,” Harry says. “Then no, I’m not a muggleborn, though I was raised by muggles.”

“Interesting,” Michael says. “Any relation to the Potter family?”

Harry scrutinizes Michael. “Well, I suppose I would have to be.”

Michael blushes. “Pardon my ignorance. I’m not very used to interacting with people from outside of the wizarding community. I actually meant to ask if you were related to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. You know, the boy-who-lived’s family?”

A look of confusion falls upon Harry’s face as he tries to decipher Michael’s words. “I’m sorry … um-“ “Oh, of course. I give you leave to call me by my first name, instead of my title.” Harry nods gratefully. “Well then Michael, honestly, after the first sentence of course, I only understood about every other word. I can tell you that my biological parents brought me to the Alley. James and Lily Potter.”

Michael’s eyes widen. “You are Charles Potter’s brother?”

The two shop workers, one assisting each boy, both mirror Michael’s disbelief, though they are much quieter about it. But Harry can see the two exchanging meaningful glances, clearly intrigued enough by Harry’s answer to gossip, even if silently.

“Yes, and Rose Potter’s too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Fairly positive. Though I only met the boy a few hours ago.”

Michael just stands there, gaping like a fish.

“What’s wrong Michael?”

“It's just, I didn't know the boy-who-lived had a brother.”

“The who?”

“You don’t know?” Michael asks.

Harry snorts. “I suppose not. I know very little about the wizarding world, after all. I only learned of my …. heritage three days ago. Quite a shock if I might say so myself.”

“I’m sure,” Michael says.

Harry grins at him. “‘I like to think I’m handling it well at least.”

Michael smiles back. “Damn right you are. I would’ve locked myself in my room for a week straight after learning all this.”

Harry shivers. Harry can’t exactly lock himself in his room, and even if he could, he wouldn’t want too. His room is a cupboard after all.

“Are you alright Harry?” Michael asks, concern clear in his voice.

Harry beams at Michael just a bit too brightly. “I’m just fine Michael. I suppose I have a lot of research to do to catch up. Do you have any suggestions for books that might be helpful?”

Michael ponders the question for a second before answering. “Flourish and Blotts, the biggest bookstore in the alley, should have a section for muggleborns that should be helpful. Just go for the most popular examples and you should be fine. Store owners are always helpful if you are looking for specific examples. Might I also suggest that you also pick up a book on Wizarding Nobility and possibly even Nobility customs?”

“Nobility?” Harry asks. “The wizarding world has a separate system.”

“Yes,” Michael says. “Wizarding Britain is actually led by Wizengamot, which is made up of several Houses of Nobility. The House of Potter are actually part of the Nobility, as is my stepfather’s House, the Diggorys, hence the reason I’m a ward of that house.”

“Ok,” Harry nods, starting to get a little overwhelmed.

Michael decides to give his confused companion a lifeline. “If you ever have any questions Harry, you can always just write to me. After all, our Houses are allied. It’s only right that I help you.”

Harry smiles at Michael. “Thanks, but what do you mean are Houses are allied?”

“Our two Houses are part of an alliance due to our shared ideals and values. You see, we are part of the Light Alliance, focused on inclusion and heavier taxes to help raise our economy. There is also the Dark Alliance, which as you can infer, stands for the opposite of what the Light stands for, and the Grey Alliance, which tend towards the middle.”

“Inclusion?” Harry asks. “Who isn’t being included?”

“Depending on who you ask, the answers can range from muggleborns to sentient magical creatures. The issues on inclusion for each species can vary.”

Harry just nods. He supposes he has a lot of reading to do.

“How exactly would I contact you?” Harry asks.

“I suppose you would either have to get an owl,” Michael explains. “Or wait for me to owl you.”

“An owl?”

“The wizarding world uses magical owls to deliver letters and small packages. The owls are magically trained so they can locate any person who is not specifically warded against owl delivery. So if you get an owl, you can tell the owl to deliver a letter to me, and it’ll know how to get to me.”

Harry just nods rather than ask any of the dozens of questions running through his head.

“You are all set Ward Diggory,” the shop worker assisting Michael says. “Your uniform should be delivered within the week.”

“Thank you,” Michael says, before turning back to Harry. “It was a pleasure to meet you Harry. And don’t be afraid to send me a letter. I hope to hear from you soon”

“Thank you for your help Michael. I’ll try to get an owl and send you a letter soon.”

“No need to thank me Harry. After all, what are friends for.”

Harry can’t help but intake his breath at Michael’s casual use of the word “friend”.

After all, no one has ever called me their friend before.

“Sorry, to be so forward, it’s just-”

“It’s fine Michael. It’s good to have a friend.”

Michael frowns for a second, before moving over and giving Harry a small hug. “Yeah it is.”

Harry flinches at first, but eventually relaxes in Michael’s arms. Harry is forced to go deep within his mind to stop himself from crying. It’s been a long time since Harry was hugged.

Harry can’t honestly remember when the last time was.

“Thank you Michael.”

“Of course Harry,” Michael says, though he once again is frowning slightly at his new friend, before he is forced to leave so as not to make his family wait for him

________________________________________

Harry hesitantly exits Madam Malkin’s, a shrunken bag of clothing in tow.

Apparently Lily and James had arranged for all the clothes to be paid for so they could go to lunch with the Weasley’s.

Harry’s stomach growled at the thought of lunch.

Harry hadn’t eaten since the day before yesterday.

And now his biological relatives had forgotten about him in a clothing store.

Harry isn’t even surprised because that is the natural progression of the day’s events.

Harry tries to wait in Madam Malkin’s, but eventually gives in to his more petulant and curious nature and decides to explore the alley.

He knows that James and Lily are expecting for him to wait there, but Harry can’t resist the urge to discover more about this strange, new world.

Even if it’s almost as scary as it is fascinating.

So Harry sets out into the alley and begins to wander somewhat aimlessly.

Window shopping is both exhilarating and boring when he doesn’t know exactly what the items in said windows actually are.

Like for example, was that a broom? Why was there a whole shop dedicated to brooms?

Harry briefly enters into a bookshop but forces himself to leave quickly thereafter.

The books are just too tempting, and Harry simply doesn’t have any funds right now.

He definitely remembers the location of the shop for future perusal.

Harry continues to wander around the alley with wonder clear in his eyes. He later realizes his face is not too dissimilar to that of the tourists visiting London for the first time, but Harry can’t bring himself to care.

Harry, in his willful ignorance, runs face first into a family and topples over from the impact, falling to the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry apologizes profusely. “I’m such a clutz.”

Harry looks up, noticing the family he ran into. The father and mother both have stark raven hair, and are both rather tall, but that is where the similarities between the two ends. The father looks very aristocratic. His hair is cut short and his eyes betray mostly boredom, but with the smallest bit of intrigue as well. The mother on the other hand has a much more homely appearance, not unlike that of a teacher. Her eyes seem very kind, and her hands are already reaching down to help Harry.

The three girls are even more intriguing. The tallest one looks about his age and seems to be the female mirror of her father’s seemingly indifferent nature and form. Her eyes look at Harry in a very calculating manner. She’s very pretty and would likely be one of the girl’s Dudley would hopelessly chase after before finally giving up if she attended his old school. The second daughter seems to take much more after her mother, hiding behind the kind looking woman. She seems to be a year or two younger than Harry at most but could very well be his age as well.

The final girl looks very different from the rest of the family, though her attractiveness is on par with the others. Her hair seems to be a very dark auburn, almost appearing chocolate in color. It would look similar to Michael’s own chocolate brunette hair, except for her hair is very wavy. Her skin is also a tad darker than the rest of the families, though not so dark as to be out of place in England. She just isn’t as pale as the rest of the family. She, unlike the rest of her family, seems to be very amused at Harry’s misfortune.

“It’s alright dear,” the mother says, helping me up. “No harm done.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t recognize you, what’s your name?” the father says, his tone and look relaxing from the cold that he seemed to exude earlier.

The daughter seems to relax her cold demeanor slightly too, but her eyes are still calculating.

“Harry sir. Harry Potter. And before you ask, yes, I am related to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, even though I’m not quite sure what that means yet. I am the son of Lily and James Potter, and Charles’ twin brother.”

The entire family’s eyes widen, before the father and eldest daughter seem to school themselves.

“Well Heir Potter, my name is Lord Adrian Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. It is lovely to meet you.”

“This is my wife, Lady Miriam Greengrass,” he says, gesturing to the mother.

“My eldest, Heir Apparent Daphne Greengrass,” he says, gesturing to the eldest daughter.

He then lightly brings the youngest daughter from behind Miriam, so she can be introduced. “My youngest, Heiress Astoria.”

He then clasps his hand on the final girl’s shoulder, in a very fatherly manner, “And our Ward, Heiress Tracey Davis of the Ancient House of Davis.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Harry bows slightly. “May I assume that you are part of British wizarding Nobility?”

“You may,” Lord Greengrass says. “The House of Greengrass is of the same rank as your own.”

“Then it is a pleasure to meet you Lord Greengrass. I am sorry if I offended you by either my inability to recognize you and your lovely family, or my poor introduction. You see, I am new to the wizarding world as a whole and have not had any instruction on what it means to be a wizard, let alone part of a noble family.”

“I see,” Lord Greengrass says curiously. “Then do not stress Heir Potter. I am not offended by your lack of knowledge, as long as you aim to correct it.”

Harry wonders briefly why Lord Greengrass referred to him as Heir Potter but decides to just follow his example. He likely knows better.

“I do intend to learn more about this new world and my place in it Lord Greengrass and thank you for your forgiveness.”

“You said you were Heir Apparent Potter’s twin, correct?” Tracey asks.

“Yes, I am Charles Potter’s twin.”

“So you will be starting at Hogwarts this year, dear?” Lady Greengrass asks.

“Yes Lady Greengrass.”

“Both Daphne and Tracey will be starting at Hogwarts this year as well,” Lord Greengrass adds.

“Then it is especially nice to meet you. I only know two other people who are starting at Hogwarts, and one of them is my brother. I’m not sure if that really counts. So it is lovely to meet more of my future classmates.”

“Indeed Heir Potter,” Heir Apparent Greengrass says. “We feel the same way.”

Harry smiles at the two girls, though only Tracey smiles back.

“May I ask where your parents are young heir? And the rest of your family?”

“I believe they mentioned something about eating lunch with the Weasley family but for the life of me I can’t remember where. Plus this is my first time in Diagon Alley, and I find myself quite lost.”

And of course, Harry’s stomach decides to growl loudly enough for the entire Greengrass family to hear. Harry just had to mention the word “lunch”.

God, he’s so hungry.

“Are you supposed to join them?” Daphne asks.

“I do not believe so,” Harry says. “I was supposed to wait in Madam Malkin’s if my appointment finished early, but I found myself enchanted with the alley and felt the need to explore.”

“Plus, exploring the alley probably helps distract from the hunger pains,” Tracey whispers, frowning slightly. She looks lost in thought, as if reminiscing at some distant memory.

Harry slightly flinches at the mention of hunger pains, but quickly recovers. “I suppose hunger and the need to distract from it might have appealed to me when I made my escape from the store.”

“Well, we are just going to lunch now Heir Potter, and would love it if you would join us. On us of course. Give you and the girls the chance to get to know each other and put those heavy bags down.”

Harry stammers out a half-decent yet extremely polite refusal, stating everything from the fact that he’s really not that hungry (but he is), his family is probably waiting for him (they are not), and even saying that the bags aren’t that heavy (they are), but between Lady Greengrass’s polite refusal of his refusal and Lord Greengrass’s insistence, he relents.

________________________________________

The Greengrass lead Harry to a little cafe where they all enjoy a meal together. Tracey and Harry both discuss the muggle world, which apparently fascinates Tracey ever since she learned she was a “half-blood”, and her mother was a muggleborn.

Tracey actually gets very upset upon announcing that her mother was a muggleborn, but Daphne quickly comforts her friends and bondmate.

Harry also realizes that Tracey and Daphne are actually bonded and asks them how long they have known each other.

“All our lives,” Daphne answers. “Pureblood families move in circles and Tracey and I have spent a lot of time together over the years. We’re even closer now that Tracey lives with us.”

Harry is half-tempted to ask why Tracey lives with them but decides that it would be insensitive.

Harry puts his hand on top Tracey’s in a supportive manner. “I don’t live with my family either, but if I have learned anything from them, it’s that family of choice is just as important, if not more than family of blood.”

Of course he doesn’t elaborate that his experience not living with his family is seemingly opposite from Tracey’s. She doesn’t need to know that.

If Harry can pull his plan off, know will need to know about his time at the Dursley’s and exactly what it entailed.

Of course, this sets off the awkward situation of explaining his living situation to the living situation to the Greengrass family.

“So you lived with muggle relatives because your family thought you were a squib?” Lady Greengrass asks.

“Sorry, but I am unaware of what the word “squib” means?”

“Someone born of magical family, but without magical ability,” Daphne answers.

“Oh well then yes,” Harry says. “I haven’t exactly had the chance to discuss it with them yet.”

“Disgraceful,” Miriam Greengrass says. “A light family doing that to their own flesh and blood.”

Only Lord Greengrass resting a calming hand on Lady Greengrass’s shoulder seems to relax her.

“Speaking of my family, I should probably head back to the shop so they don’t get worried.” Harry says.

“I wouldn’t worry about that Heir Potter,” Tracey says. “Adrian chose this cafe because it is right across from Madam Malkin’s. So far none of the Potters have shown up looking for you.”

Harry blushes, having not realized that.

“May I ask what time it is?”

Lord Greengrass nods, before pulling out his wand and saying, “Tempus.”

“It is 3:30.”

Harry frowns deeply. Harry was dropped off at Madam Malkin’s around 11:30, and the measurements and clothing selections were only supposed to take an hour or two at most. That means Harry has been left on his own for two hours past when he was supposed to get him, even given generous time estimates.

“They probably just lost track of time,” Harry defends weakly, not willing to put much effort into defending the biologicals.

The Greengrass family all look very unconvinced, and now it’s Tracey’s turn to comfort Harry by placing her hand on top of his. Harry looks at her with a grateful smile, trying desperately to not shed tears over his apparent abandonment.

“It’s ok Heir Potter, we’ll stay with you until they get back,” Miriam says.

“You don’t have to Lady Greengrass. I’ll be perfectly fine on my own. I’m very used to…” Harry starts to say before trailing off. He doesn’t want to give the Greengrasses a bad impression of his family. He isn’t sure if there are possible political repercussions for his family, and that would not be a smart way to get what he wants from them i.e., freedom from the Dursleys.

“Harry,” Adrian says. “I give you leave to call all of us by our first names.”

Harry starts to refuse but decides against it. “Thank you Adrian. I give you all leave to call me by my first name as well.”

“Thank you Harry,” Adrian says.

“Harry, is that you?” Harry hears a familiar voice call out. Harry turns around to see Michael, with what appears to be his family trailing behind him.

The mother is clearly Michael’s mother; she has the same chocolate hair and defined jawline. The slightly faded mark on her arm, likely connected to her own son, acts as further confirmation of that fact and as a warning to Harry to be cautious of the woman. Any parent that lets their bond with their child start to fade, especially while they are still underage, is someone to be wary of.

The man, on the other hand, bears only a passing resemblance to Michael. He is most likely the stepfather Michael mentioned earlier, Lord Diggory. Lord Diggory has what was once probably brunette hair, but now resembles a salt and pepper mixture. He also does not seem to be quite as in shape as the rest of the family, but still not unhealthy by any means.

Not that Harry will ever judge another human being for being overweight after living with Vernon Dursley for so many years.

The older boy on the other hand bears much resemblance to Lord Diggory. His hair is probably what Lord Diggory himself once sported, and he has a very athletic, jock-like figure. He also appears to be a few years older than Harry and Michael, perhaps 15 or 16.

Harry is not going to deny that the older boy is attractive. He’d be stupid too. The boy is clearly a sports player, and probably the guy with a gaggle of girls following him at Hogwarts.

“Michael?” Harry asls.

“It is you,” Michael says, rushing over and giving Harry a hug.

Harry is once again startled by Michael’s friendly nature, but just returns the hug instead of questioning it.

Two hugs in one day, and a full meal. Harry could get used to being a wizard.

“Harry, this is my family,” Michael says, once he lets go of Harry.

“Hello Harry, I am Lord Amos Diggory of the Ancient and Noble House of Diggory,” the man greets. “ This is my wife, Lady Catherine Diggory, and my son, Heir Apparent Cedric Diggory. Lovely to meet you. Oh, and I give you leave to call us all by our first names.”

“Lovely to meet you too, Amos.”

Harry notices both Daphne and Adrian bristle at Lord Diggory’s introduction, but Miriam helps break the tension.

“Catherine, lovely to see you again,” Miriam greets, politely but much more formally than she was speaking just moments before. There is a certain coldness in Miriam’s tone that further indicates Harry should be wary of Lady Diggory.

“You too Miriam,” Catherine says, much more tersely than Miriam. “And these must be your lovely daughters.”

“Yes, this is Daphne, Tracey, and Astoria.”

“I wasn’t aware that you considered your Ward family,” Amos says.

The Greengrasses all stiffen, as Tracey subtlety winces.

“Tracey is a part of our family and House in every way that counts. Would you like to join us?” Lord Greengrass offers politely, but with little of the warmth he was showing just minutes earlier. “We were just about to order some ice cream and enjoy it with Harry here. Our treat.”

Harry now knows better than to attempt to refuse Adrian’s offer.

“We would love to,” Lord Diggory says, clearly a bit uneasy with the idea, but the fact that Michael is already halfway into the seat next to Harry and Cedric is making his way to sit as well forces Lord Diggory’s hand a bit.

In the end, the entire group is forced to move to a bigger table, with Harry wedged in between Daphne and Michael, and Tracey sitting across from them. The rest of the Greengrass family sits next to Daphne, while the Diggorys sit next to Michael, with Cedric circling the table and sitting next to Tracey.

“So Cedric, do you attend Hogwarts?” Harry asks, attempting to break some of the tension. It is clear that he is the only point of connection between the two families, much to Harry’s disbelief.

“Yes, I am going to be a third year Hufflepuff this next school year.”

“A what?”

“A Hufflepuff,” Cedric repeats.

Harry’s obvious look of confusion leads to a spirited debate about the four Hogwarts houses, that only exacerbates Harry’s confusion.

“Why separate the students at all?” Harry questions, somewhat timidly, so as not to raise the tempers that are already flaring. “It seems almost counter-productive.”

“The Hogwarts houses are essentially your family,” Amos says. “You look after each other and protect each other.”

“Protect each other from what?” Harry asks.

“Often the other houses,” Adrian admits.

“That’s … interesting. Is it normal for the houses not to get along?”

“Only for Slytherin and Gryffindor,” Daphne answers. “They’ve had a rivalry for years now.”

“Which was only made worse by the last war,” Michael continues.

Daphne narrows her eyes at Michael but doesn’t refute his claim.

“Well, I think all the houses are great!” Tracey says, smiling at Harry. “I wish that there were more friendships between people of other houses.”

“Wait, people in different houses aren’t friends?” Harry asks.

“Well no, but in a way yes,” Catherine says. “For example, Miriam was a Ravenclaw and I was a Hufflepuff in school and we used to be friends, but we had closer friends in our own houses.”

“More acquaintances than friends, but it is a suitable example,” Miriam says.

“And I’m best friends with a Ravenclaw,” Cedric defends. “But that isn’t exactly the norm.”

Harry just decides not to respond.

“Don’t worry,” Michael says. “We can still stay friends, no matter what house you and I end up in.”

“Us too,” Tracey agrees. Daphne simply nods.

“Ok,” Harry grins widely.

Eventually they all decide to stop talking about the houses, and instead just dig into their ice cream.

Or in Harry’s case, DIG into their ice cream.

“This is really good,” Harry exclaims as he finally finishes his cone and slumps back in his chair. “Thank you Adrian.”

“Of course Harry,” Adrian smiles. “Anything for Daphne and Tracey’s friend.”

“You certainly seemed to enjoy that Harry, is the ice cream muggles have different from ours?” Cedric asks.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had any before.”

“Really?” Michael asks. “Never.”

“Nope,” Harry says.

“Were your muggle relatives very health conscious?” Miriam asks.

Harry is half-curious as to why neither of the elder Diggorys seem to be questioning why Harry lived with his muggle relatives, even as Michael and Cedric seem to be holding a silent conversation about him. Did Lord and Lady Diggory already know?

“Hardly,” Harry laughs. “My uncle and cousin loved ice cream.”

“Why didn't you get any?” Daphne asks.

Harry’s eyes widen as he realizes the corner he’s back himself into.

“Of course Harry’s had ice cream before,” Tracey answers for him quickly. “Harry just misspoke.”

“Yeah that’s it,” Harry says. “I’ve had ice cream before; I think I just misheard Miriam’s question.”

Miriam and Adrian exchange concerned glances, and even the ever-shy Astoria gives Harry a look of skepticism, but everyone drops it. For Harry’s sake.

“So Harry, where is your family anyway?” Amos asks. “I would love to talk with your father before the next Wizengamot session.”

“Um, I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

“You don’t know where they are?” Cedric asks. “How long have they been gone?”

“Not that long,” Harry defends weakly. “They just dropped me off at Madam Malkin’s and said they would be back in a little while.”

“Wait, you mean when we met at Madam Malkin’s?” Michael asks, shock clear in his voice. “That was around noon!”

“Almost 11:30,” Cedric corrects angrily.

“You haven’t seen your parents for four and a half hours Harry?” Adrian asks, but it is clear that he already knows the answer.

Practically everyone at the table is frowning at Harry, and Michael looks almost angry as he grips his hands into a fist.

Tracey looks at Harry with sad eyes, while Daphne’s gaze is unexpressive but somehow piercing.

Harry just sits immobile, hands in his lap and eyes looking downward. He knows all their eyes are on him, and he can’t stand it.

“I guess so, but it really isn’t a big deal. I promise. They had other plans, and me coming here wasn’t really … expected.”

That only seems to set everyone off even more, and now the tension is palpable.

“Harry?” Michael asks.

“Yeah?” Harry perks up with a sugary sweet voice.

“Are you ok Harry?” Michael asks.

“I’m fine,” Harry says, grabbing his ice cream. “Nothing to worry about. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

“Are you sure Harry?” Daphne asks.

“About my parents coming back? Of course I am Daphne, don’t be silly. I’m sure they have a perfectly good reason. It’s probably my fault anyway for leaving Madam Malkin’s. I just hope they aren’t mad at me.”

“They couldn’t have possibly expected you to wait there for over four hours,” Cedric says.

Harry glances over at the Greengrasses and sees Adrian and Miriam whispering to each other, and Astoria clearly listening in. Daphne and Tracey are looking at Harry, but their body language indicates that they are also listening to the conversation going on between the Lord and Lady Greengrass.

“Well, Madam Malkin’s did take a long time and Lily and James knew that. Maybe they just overestimated.”

Harry manages to overhear Miriam lightly exclaim, “Jacob needs to know Adrian, and you know he’ll never forgive you if you don’t tell him.”

“Still, four hours is a long time,” Cedric says.

“I’m fine. And besides, this gave me a chance to explore the alley and meet new people.”

“Of course he deserves to know Miriam, but we need to handle this delicately. And we need to let Harry know about his cousin first,” Adrian whispers.

“Something to contribute, Adrian?” Harry asks.

“Actually yes. Harry, did you know that you have another family member besides your parents and siblings?”

Harry blinks. “I do? I thought James and Lily said all the Potters were dead?”

“Well that is mostly true,” Lord Diggory says. “One of the greater tragedies of that dark time was the culling of good Light Houses like your own. However, a cousin of yours, once removed I believe, was taken in by the House of Greengrass during the war. The son of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black, brother and sister-in-law of former Lord Fleamont Potter, your grandfather.”

Harry lets his mouth hang up for a minute, ignoring the many implications in Lord Diggory’s words. For now.

Harry then turns to Adrian. “Do you know of any way I could contact him?”

Adrian grins at Harry. “Yes, I do Harry. If you would like, you could write a letter and I could send it for you.”

“Please,” Harry says.

“Blood family is important too,” Tracey weakly smiles at Harry.

Harry just nods.

“I guess I have a letter to write.”

________________________________________

The Diggorys leave a few minutes into Harry’s fervent letter writing.

Michael gives Harry a hug goodbye and Cedric tells Harry he can write him with any questions he has about Hogwarts.

It leaves him with a warm feeling that doesn’t dissipate once they leave. Because the Greengrass family, true to their word, insist upon staying with Harry until his parents come back for him.

And just as the clock strikes five, a very calm looking Lily Potter rushes into Madam Malkin’s, with a plump redhead woman following. A small redheaded girl, and an older boy with curly red hair that were following the women both see him sitting with the Greengrasses and walk over.

“Lord Greengrass, Lady Greengrass,” the older boy says with reverence. The girl follows suit.

“Heir and Heiress Weasley, lovely to see you. I suppose you came for Heir Potter.”

“Indeed,” the boy says, before turning to me. “Heir Potter, lovely to meet you. I am Percival Weasley, but you may call me Percy. And this is Ginevra Weasley, but please only call her Ginny for your safety and mine as well.”

The girl smirks.

“Lovely to meet you Percy and Ginny. Please call me Harry.”

Percy nods. “You had us quite worried Harry.”

Ginny snorts. “And by us, you mean literally only us.”

Percy glares at his younger sister. “What she means-”

“We know what she means, Heir Weasley,” Daphne says. “And the House of Greengrass appreciates your worry in our friend, Heir Potter. But settle your fears, for they were misplaced. He is safe in our care.”

Percy gapes slightly, and glances at Adrian. Adrian nods, ever so slightly. Percy quickly schools himself.

Ginny, meanwhile, has already walked over to Astoria, who is more animated than Harry seen her all day.

Ginny glances at Harry, almost appraisingly, as Astoria smiles at Harry, clearly apologizing for her friend’s behavior before she starts to talk with the redheaded girl.

“As a Ward of the House of Greengrass myself, and a dear friend of Harry’s, I declare Heir Apparent Greengrass’ assessment true. Harry was safe.”

Harry shoots both Daphne and Tracey a skeptical look.

Tracey smiles brightly at Harry and mouths,” Look it up.”

Daphne says nothing, but her amused smile is answer enough.

“I appreciate the hospitality and friendship extended by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass,” Harry says.

Adrian nods and Miriam smiles at him.

Percy just tries desperately to not let his confusion be visible.

Luckily for him, Lily and the other woman walk out of Madam Malkin’s and over to the cafe.

“Harry!” Lily exclaims, her calm demeanor fading as she forces a look of worry onto her face.

“Oh, now she worries,” Miriam mutters.

Astoria and Ginny both smile at Miriam’s words.

Harry quickly passes Daphne the letter he penned to Jacob Potter, trusting her to give it to her father, and for him to pass it onto Jacob.

“Harry, thank goodness you are alright,” Lily says, as she pulls Harry out of his chair wraps him in a hug.

Harry can’t help but stiffen at the sudden intimacy. This is nothing like the hug Michael gave him, or the warmth Harry felt when Tracey laid her hand on top of his in support. This is more like a stifling, choking heat that Harry wants to escape. It feels more performative than anything else.

“I’m fine Lily,” Harry says, trying not to let his discomfort be known.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” Lily says, pulling them apart but keeping her hands on his shoulders. “I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry I didn't stay in the store, but I just waited so long and-”

“Oh don’t worry about that Harry. I’m just glad you are alright.”

“The Greengrasses watched over me.”

“Yes, I’m sure they did,” Lily says, somewhat coldly. “The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter thanks you, Lord Greengrass and Lady Greengrass.”

“No thanks are needed between friends Lady Potter,” Adrian says.

Lily frowns.

“Daphne and Tracey both get along swimmingly with Harry,” Miriam says, which seems to clear some of the confusion Lily has. “Perhaps we could arrange for Harry and them to have a meeting of sorts, so they can become better acquainted before starting at Hogwarts.”

“Possibly,” Lily says. “Harry will be quite busy preparing for the school year, so perhaps they will just have to see each other on the Hogwarts Express.”

“Perhaps,” Adrian says. “Well come on girls, now that Harry is safely with his mother, we best take our leave.”

“Goodbye Harry,” Tracey says, giving the boy a hug. “It’ll get better,” she whispers. “It did with me, and it will for you too.”

Harry just nods and tries to not let the kinship Tracey feels with him fill him with dread. He never wants anyone to go through what he has, so Tracey feeling similar to him is a horrible thought.

“Goodbye Harry,” Daphne says as she shakes his hand. “It was lovely to meet you, and you’ll have to write me.”

“I will Daphne.”

“Bye,” Astoria waves, with a worried smile clear on ger face.

“Bye Astoria.”

“Have a lovely summer,” Miriam says, as she hugs him warmly.

“I will Miriam, I promise.”

“Stay safe Garry,” Adrian says. “And be careful who you bump into, they might not be as … generous as we were.”

Harry almost gulps at the apparent warning. “I will Adrian, thanks for everything.”

“Anytime Harry,” he says.

Harry smiles at Adrian, and for a fleeting second, he wishes the Greengrasses were his family instead of the Potters.

Because the Greengrasses would never have abandoned him the way the Potters have.

Chapter Text

August 3, 1991

After flooing back to the Potter Manor, Lily and the other woman, Molly Weasley, said something about going to start dinner and rushed off.

Percy just left without another word.

“He’s going to the Potter Library,” Ginny answers. “We can’t afford a nice library, so the Potters let him use theirs.”

Harry nods. “Is it nice?”

Ginny just smirks. “Very. But right now, we are going outside. Because this is the only place Mom and Dad let me fly, and I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

“Fly?” Harry asks, even as he lets himself get dragged by the excited redhead.

“You know, like on a broom?”

“Brooms fly?”

“Yeah, and it’s awesome. Nothing is better than flying. Besides Quidditch of course, but that does involve flying so I rest my case.”

Harry just shoots her a confused smile and decides to just go along with it.

Besides, flying sounds cool.

Which leads him to finding James, Charles, Rose, and a small gaggle of redheads.

“Hi,” Rose waves at Harry, from where she’s hovering about ten feet in the air on a broom.

Harry just looks at Rose in wonder, but eventually gathers enough brain cells to wave back.

Rose smiles and takes off. Two older boys, obviously twins, chase after her. It’s kind of adorable as she giggles while the two boys jokingly chase her.

Charles barely deigns Harry worth a glance before him and yet another redhead continue to pass around a ball of some sort, while about 50 feet in the air.

“Awesome,” Harry whispers in awe.

Ginny smirks at him. “Yeah it is.”

“Harry,” James says, walking over to the boy and attempting to feign interest in his son. “I’m glad you are alright.”

“Oh, I’m fine James. The Diggorys and Greengrasses watched over me.”

James tenses a bit at the mention of the Greengrasses, but just nods. “That’s good Harry. And I’m sorry, for leaving you behind. It was a mistake on our part.”

Harry catches Ginny glaring at James, and a balding redheaded man, who is probably Ginny’s father, and decides to be a bit more … diplomatic.

“It’s ok James.”

James barely even glances at Harry, just nodding again. “Well, I suppose you will want to have fun with the rest. I wish Arthur and I could stay, but we have to take care of some House business. We should be back in about an hour.”

“Ok James.”

“Oh, and why don’t you try out a broom while you’re here. It’s a Potter family tradition that we are good on brooms.”

“Is that safe?” Harry asks.

“Sure, as long as there’s no horseplay, you’ll be fine.”

“Come on,” Ginny says, dragging him to a shed close to the pond that Charles and the other boy are flying over.

Once again, Harry lets himself get dragged along by the redhead.

He silently wonders if this would have been common if he lived with his biological family.

“Here,” Ginny says, passing Harry a broom. “I would prefer to give you a training broom, but the Potters got rid of all theirs years ago.”

“Is it safe?” Harry asks.

Ginny actually looks worried for a split second, before smiling at him. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Ginny says. “It’s been a while since something interesting happened around here, and I guess I feel kinda bad.”

“Why?”

“Well, the Potter’s forgot about you because they were with us. It’s kinda our fault.”

“It’s not your fault Ginny. It’s theirs. And I’m fine.”

Ginny smiles. “Yeah, the Greengrasses are pretty cool.”

“Hey, what’s up with the rest of the Potters not really liking the Greengrasses?”

“You caught that?”

Harry just gives a disdainful look.

“Hey, not everyone catches subtlety, especially at our age.”

“It was rather obvious.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ginny says sheepishly. “I guess the long story is that you have a cousin-”

“Jacob Potter.”

Ginny just smirks. “Yeah him. During the Reign of Terror, he almost died, but his Mom, Dorea Potter, and he managed to make it to safety. And they sought sanctuary with the Greengrass family. Dorea used to be friends with Lord Greengrass’ mother, before her passing, so she was close with them, and they were neutral at the time, so she must’ve thought it would be safe. But the Greengrasses were attacked.”

“What happened?”

Ginny frowns. “No one knows for certain, but it is said that Dorea Potter took down a half-dozen Death Raters single-handedly. The Greengrass family managed to flee, with Jacob Potter in tow, but Dorea died. Ever since then, the Potter family has resented the Greengrass family for letting Dorea die.”

“But it’s not their fault!”

“Exactly. In fact, Jacob Potter is on great terms with the Greengrasses. Maybe even better than the Potters as a whole.”

“I sent him a letter,” Harry admits.

Ginny looks at him curiously before smiling. “That’s good. He’s a good person, he just doesn’t get along with your parents.”

“Is that common?”

Ginny stops and looks at him for a second, before quickly changing the subject. “Common, let’s stop wasting time and get into the air.”

________________________________________

“Whoa!” Harry screams, as the broom shoots up into the air.

Ginny grins. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

“This is kind of incredible,” Harry says excitedly. “But also incredibly nerve-wracking. What if I fall?”

Ginny frowns slightly, before stopping herself. “Just don’t I guess.”

“That’s comforting.”

“I hear it’s kind of like riding a bicycle.”

“Never ridden a bicycle before,” Harry admits, losing his balance slightly, before clutching to the broom.

“See, you’ve got it,” Ginny says, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“That’s just survival instinct,” Harry says. “And we are like scary high up.”

Ginny nods in agreement, before sighing. “You’re right Harry. We really shouldn’t be this high, for your first time. I can help you down if you want. And then we can go to the library or something.”

“But this was supposed to be your only chance to fly.”

Ginny shrugs. “We’ll be here often enough. It’s fine Harry, I’m more worried about you.”

“Ok,” Harry agrees. Under better circumstances he would try his best to let Ginny have her fun, but he’s got a really bad feeling about being this high up.

Even the pond below him is doing nothing to ease his fears.

“How do I get down?”

“I can help you,” Ginny says, grabbing the tip of his broom.

She’s starting to pull him downward, when all of the sudden, Charles and the other boy, who he now knows is Ginny’s older brother Ron, race past him.

Charles, in fact, flies right in between Harry and Ginny, causing each of the duo’s brooms to fly back violently.

Harry wraps his whole body around the broom, as Charles and Ron come to a stop just above Harry.

“What’s up brother, afraid of heights?”

“N-no,” Harry stutters.

“Then what are you scared of?” Ron snickers. “You look like you are about to piss yourself.”

“I’m afraid of falling, there’s a difference you git,” Harry retorts.

“Lay off him, will you?” Ginny yells. “It’s his first time flying, and he doesn’t need the two of you acting like fools.”

“Aww, is it baby’s first time flying?” Ron mocks.

“Shut up.”

“Really, that’s no excuse anyway. We did much better our first time.”

“You had training brooms,” Ginny says. “There’s a difference.”

“Still pathetic,” Ron says, right as Rose and the twins from earlier fly over to see what is going on.

“Come on, you can do better than that,” Charles says, laughing at Harry.

Harry ignores them, looking at Ginny. “Please, get me down.”

“Baby wants down,” Rom teases. “Can’t handle a little flying.”

“Any self-respecting wizard can fly,” One of the twins says.

The other twin laughs and says, “Yeah, are you sure you aren’t actually a squib?”

“Ginny,” Harry pleads.

“It’s ok Harry, I’ll get you down from here,” Ginny says, panic clear in her voice.

“No,” Ron says, blocking his sister. “He needs to learn.”

“Trial by fire, or so they say,” Charles adds.

“This isn’t a bloody game, you two. He’s clearly scared.”

“He’s just being pathetic,” Charles says. “He can take it.”

Charles saddles up next to Harry, bumping his broom.

Harry squeals, as the broom spins away from Charles.

“Leave him alone,” Ginny shouts.

“Charles, what are you doing?” Rose asks, questioning her brother’s sudden mean streak.

“Come on guys, this is too far,” One of the twins says.

“Just let him down.”

“He can take it Charles,” Ron says, egging his friend and bondmate on as he sneers at Harry.

Harry can’t even begin to guess what he has done to incur the wrath of not only a virtual stranger, but also his brother. In perhaps not his brightest move, Harry sneers back at Ron, glaring fiercely at Ginny’s brother.

“He better be able to,” Charles says, kicking the broom.

Harry squeezes the broom tighter but can feel his grip loosen. His palms are starting to get sweaty from his nerves, and he can feel himself starting to slip even as he clings to his broom.

“Please,” Harry pleads.

“Leave him alone you bastard,” Ginny curses.

“Potters are great flyers. He doesn’t deserve the name if he can’t fly.”

“I don’t want the bloody name,” Harry snarls. “It has never done me any good, so why should I want it now? Take it if that’s what you want. I don’t want it! I just want to get off this broom.”

Charles gets a dark look on his face. “Don’t you dare disrespect my family.”

Charles delivers one last sharp kick at the broom.

Harry doesn’t think that Charles actually intended for this to be his last kick.

Harry really thinks that Charles was just trying to get Harry to learn how to fly, in his own messed up way. Or maybe he was just angry at his brother and acting out, not realizing how severe the consequences could be. He doesn’t think Charles was trying to actually push him off the broom.

But the story rarely gets told that way. Not with Charles’ behavior later in the year and Ginny’s telling of the story, which is much less forgiving than his own.

Most people believe Ginny’s telling to be more truthful. Harry can be a bit too generous at times.

But when Harry looks up at his brother, even as he falls out of view, Harry sees a look of terror on Charles’ face, as Harry plummets towards the pond.

Harry watches as everyone freezes in horror while he begins his descent from over 50 feet in the air.

Ginny is the only one who reacts, pushing her broom downward in a steep dive.

But Harry knows she won’t reach him in time. She had to bypass Ron, which she will curse for years to come, and that cost her a few precious seconds.

Harry can see Ginny get closer as he finally hits the water, feet first.

His legs are in pain immediately, from impacting the water from such a high fall. His left leg was bent straight, so it is mostly fine, but his right leg was at an awkward angle, and his shin takes a beating.

He doesn’t have time to even close his eyes, before water is rushing into his nose, in his mouth, in his eyes.

Harry chokes as he accidentally swallows the water, feeling his lungs start to fill up.

God, his lungs feel like they are on fire. And isn’t that ironic?

By the time Harry finally sinks to the bottom, his vision is starting to fade.

He thrashes upward for a few moments, before he can feel himself start to tire, and he stops.

His vision is almost gone, and Harry can feel himself lose consciousness.

Just as he passes out, Harry can feel a pair of arms wrap around his small frame and pull him upward.

Too late, Harry thinks sardonically as he finally fades away into blissful unconsciousness.

The next thing Harry remembers is choking.

Water is spewing out of his nose and mouth with such a violent intensity that it actually burns his throat.

When Harry is finally done choking up water, he can feel himself let loose the entire contents of his stomach, violently hurling the one good meal he’s eaten in weeks.

What a waste.

Finally, after a pathetically short amount of time, Harry is left dry heaving, his body attempting to flush so much out of his system, and so little actually being there.

Harry can feel himself shivering, and water streaming down his face.

But he can’t tell if that water is from the pond, or if he is crying. Or both.

It’s probably a combination of both.

Harry, after what feels like a lifetime but is probably actually only a few minutes, collapses, not caring if he lands on the combination of his vomit and bile.

Luckily, he doesn’t.

He can feel sobs start to wrack his body and he can’t even tell why he is crying, just that he has an incessant need to sob.

Harry can feel a pair of arms wrap around him, and he lashes out violently. He can feel his hand collide with someone’s face before he is dropped.

Harry slowly regains his hearing, but he mostly wishes he couldn't. He can hear crying and screaming and yelling, but nothing that is actually worth hearing.

Except for Ginny.

“Harry?” she whispers, lightly reaching down to touch his face.

Harry answers her by crying.

Ginny then wastes no time helping the boy into a sitting position, before wrapping her arms around him.

Harry can hear someone warning Ginny to stop and that Harry could be dangerous and lash out.

Ginny tells them to bugger off.

The two spend the next few minutes wrapped in each other’s embrace. Harry is clinging to her desperately, sobbing into her shoulder. Ginny is holding him just as tightly, whispering apologies to him.

Harry wants to tell her that she doesn’t need to be sorry, but he can’t.

“It’s ok,” Harry manages to croak out, his voice coming out raspy.

“No, it’s not,” Ginny whispers.

“Not your fault,” Harry says.

Ginny looks like she wants to argue, but just nods instead. “Ok Harry.”

“Merlin, are you ok Harry?” Lily says, reaching down.

Harry flinches away from her, deeper into Ginny’s tight embrace.

“Just give him a minute,” Ginny says, wrapping Harry in an even tighter hug, if that’s even possible.

After several minutes, Harry and Ginny manage to get into a standing position. Harry can see Percy rush forward towards them. He wraps an arm around the younger duo, helping them into the house, and down onto a couch.

The rest of the Potters and Weasleys follow the trio.

Percy sits sideways on the couch, bringing Harry into a tight hug from behind and pulling the smaller boy practically into his lap. Ginny is still hugging Harry tightly from the front.

Harry can feel himself start to warm up, thanks the shared body heat from his the two.

He spends the next few minutes shivering, before it finally starts to slow, and Harry relaxes against Percy.

“Ginny, what happened?” Percy asks calmly.

“Those bloody gits-” Ginny starts to say.

“Ginny! Language!”

“Not the time mother,” Percy says harshly.

Harry can hear Molly protest, but Arthur shushes her.

“As I was saying, those two bloody gits started to mess with Harry, when he was clearly struggling with being on a broom for the first time.”

“That’s not what happened!” Ron protests. “Harry just fell. We had nothing to do with it.”

“You lying asshole!” Ginny shouts. “He could have fucking died, you coward. Tell the truth.”

“I am,” Ron protests pathetically. It is clear that Ron is lying, and Charles isn’t even speaking in defense of himself.

“It’s true mother,” one of the twins says. “Harry just wanted down.”

“Ron kept blocking Ginny from helping him, and Charles kept bumping Harry’s broom,” the other twin finishes.

“What the hell were you two doing?” Percy asks harshly.

“We didn't do anything,” one of them defends.

“Exactly, the two of you never do anything bloody useful. Probably thought it was funny. They always find juvenile, injury-inducing pranks funny so why not this?”

“Percy!” Arthur shouts.

“It’s true father. They can’t even stand up for a boy being bullied, because they do it so often themselves. Bloody fucking cowards is what they are.”

“Percy!” Both Arthur and Molly shout.

Percy scoffs at his parents, turning his attention back to Harry.

Lily looks over at Harry, being comforted by Ginny and Percy, and for a brief moment a pleased look crosses her face before she wipes it away, replaced by a look of concern.

“Harry was terrified, but Charles just kept kicking Harry’s broom, and didn't stop until Harry fell off,” Ginny finishes explaining. “We would’ve been fine, if it wasn’t for the two of you.”

Ron glares at his sister, and Charles winces at the accusation.

“Charles, is that true?” Lily asks loudly, shocking her children, as all three flinch back in shock. But Harry listens as the anger disappears from Lily’s tone, as quickly as it came.

Ginny and Percy wrap Harry in a tighter embrace after he flinches, and Ginny even glares at Lily.

“Charles!” Lilly demands. “Is it true?”

“Yes,” Charles admits quietly, staring intently at the floor. “I didn't want to push him off. He just made me so angry. He was so rude about flying and I’m tired of him being around and not knowing what’s going on or anything about the wizarding world!”

“Being around?” Percy scoffs. “You’ve seen him for what? An hour? Two? And of course he’s still learning. This is all new to him.”

“Charles, was it an accident?” James asks, his tone betraying his boredom with the entire conversation. He hasn’t even glanced at Harry since they’ve entered the manor.

“What does it matter?” Ginny snarls.

“Ginny!” Molly scolds.

“Mother!”

“I don’t know,” Charles admits. “I was just so mad, and he said something insulting about our House-”

“He did not!” Ginny protests.

“Yes he did!” Charles snarls back almost reflexively, before wincing at the harsh glares he receives from Percy and Ginny. “He did.”

“Does it even matter?” Percy asks.

“Matters of House Potter are always important,” James says. “If Harry insulted our House, I could understand Charles’ anger.”

“Your House?” Harry asks, looking at his biological parents with searching eyes.

Lily looks away when Harry turns to face her, almost reactively. James stares directly at Harry with the same bored expression on his face.

Charles turns away from Harry, while Rose just looks hopelessly confused.

The Weasleys, besides Ron, have very different reactions. They all look horrified.

“James, you didn't,” Arthur gasps.

“Lily, is it true?”

“Did you disown Harry?” Percy snarls.

“No,” Lily protests. “Of course not.”

“It failed when Harry was revealed to be a wizard,” James adds. “When he got his Hogwarts letter.”

“So you still tried to disown me? I’m just asking, for clarifications sake,” Harry asks coldly.

Lily flinches at their son’s cold stare. James stares right back at Harry.

“So, am I a part of this family or not?” Harry asks, when no one answers his original question.

“Of course you are Harry,” Lily says.

This time James turns away from Harry, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he turns away from his son, before his face relaxes and turns back to look at Harry.

“You tried to disown him!” Ginny yells. “What is wrong with you?”

“Ginny-” Molly tries to scold.

“No mom, what they did-”

“Is a House matter,” James says. “No one but a Potter has any say.”

“But still, no one has answered whether that includes me or not!” Harry snaps. “Am I still an orphan or not?”

Rose looks terribly confused and conflicted, swiveling her head every few seconds to stare at both of her parents. Charles just looks intently at the ground, trying to avoid his twin’s gaze.

“Answer me!” Harry demands.

“You are still a part of this family,” James answers.

“Well, small mercies,” Harry says. “I’m done here. I can’t be around him anymore. I heard there was a library. Can I go?”

“Harry, we should probably talk,” Lily lightly protests.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Harry says, glaring at the woman. “I know Ginny better than I know you. And that’s not even considering the Greengrasses or Cedric or Michael. I’ll talk when I’m ready, and not before.”

“Harry-“

“You don’t get to decide this!” Harry cries. “I get to decide this thing, this one thing. I get to choose when I want to talk about what just happened. That’s my choice, not yours! You don’t get to take that choice away from me too!”

Everyone is staring at Harry as he finishes his rants. Harry can feel the tears start to sting his eyes, as eyes bore into him, looking at him accusingly or with sorrow.

Harry moves out of Percy and Ginny’s arms, standing on shaky legs. Percy and Ginny quickly help him, leading him up to the library. No one makes a move to follow them.

Percy helps Harry sit at a table in the middle of the library, books scattered about clearly from Percy’s own perusal. Ginny sits next to Harry, gripping his hand tightly, while Percy sits across from them.

“Percy, can I trust you?” Harry asks.

Percy nods.

“Can I ask you questions about what just happened?”

“Of course.”

“Am I a member of the House of Potter? They said I was, but it wasn’t clear.”

Nothing either of his biological parents has said to him has ever been clear. Between Lily’s largely performative actions and James clear boredom for anything to do with his oldest son, Harry doesn’t trust a word either of them has uttered since he met the couple.

“Yes,” Percy answers. “At least, if what Lily and James were saying is true. It sounds like they did what is commonly referred to as a ‘squib disownment’-”

Ginny growls at the term.

“-which essentially means that the person will be disowned from the family once it is proven that they lack the magical core necessary to perform spells. This is finalized when the person in question doesn’t receive a Hogwarts letter or a letter to another magical institution.”

Harry nods. “So, can they still disown me?”

“Yes, but not easily. They can demote you from Heir Apparent to just a primary Heir quite easily, which I know they already did since Charles is the Heir Apparent. That means when James gives up the lordship or dies, Charles will inherit first, and then his kids, and then you. They could completely disown you, but only if you fail to complete your OWLs, which is the equivalent of the standardized tests at the end of a high school for muggles. You don’t even have to pass all of them, you’ll just have to take them and pass at least one. They could also disown you if you were charged with a crime that requires any sort of sentence in Azkaban, the British wizarding prison, pending your conviction.”

“Ok, but what does it mean to just be a primary heir?”

“Being a primary heir means that you belong to the leading bloodline of your family. For example, Jacob Potter was born from your grandfather’s younger brother, which means he would inherit only after James, Charles, yourself, and Rose, which makes him a secondary heir,” Percy answers.

“As for actual responsibilities, both yours and towards you, it’s different for every family,” Ginny continues. “For the House of Weasley, which is only a Minor Noble family without much wealth, it means that we keep the Weasley name and the status that comes with it. We also have the responsibility to act as proud members of our House and defend our House, if necessary. For you, it is a bit more complicated. The House of Potter if a Most Ancient and Noble House that serves on Wizengamot with much more wealth. I know that they have to pay for your Hogwarts education, and I believe you are entitled to a trust fund.”

“You are,” Percy adds. “The Potters have set up trust funds for their heirs and heiresses for centuries now.”

“Ok, anything else I’m entitled to?”

Percy shakes his head. “Not much. You have a right to seek audience with your Lord, in this case James, and to have the Potter family solicitor represent you in any legal battles or advise you if you are brought up on criminal charges. The rest is all subject to your parents.”

Harry schools his face, not letting the two see the sense of dread that fills him. If James and Lily are in charge of his life, who knows what they’ll do. Harry was hopeful earlier today, despite his lack of history with his family, but the entire day has been a train wreck and what little hope Harry had for his biological parents is shattered.

“Harry, are you ok?” Ginny asks.

Harry nods. “Yes, just thinking. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Understandable,” Percy says. “Would you like to rest? There’s a couch over in the corner.”

Harry considers his options for a few moments. The smartest thing to do would be to continue questioning Percy, who is obviously quite knowledgeable, or possibly perusing the library’s books would provide Harry with better wealth of knowledge.

But he can feel his eyes start to droop, as exhaustion from the day’s events start to set in. He knows it won’t be long until he cannot keep his eyes open any longer.

Harry makes his way over to the couch with some assistance from Ginny, stretching out and sighing as he closes his eyes. He can feel himself starting to drift off when he overhears a whispered conversation between Ginny and Percy.

“Percy, what the fuck is going on? What was that today? The Potters tried to disown him?”

“Yes, they did.”

“But no one does that, at least they don’t do that unless they are a Dark House. Even squibs are considered better heirs than no heirs by Grey and Light Houses. I thought the Potters were Light!”

“They are,” Percy says.

“Then how do you explain this?”

“I don’t know Ginny. I’m trying to figure it out.”

“We need to owl Bill. Jacob Potter needs to know what’s happening, and we both know Bill can reach him.”

“Yes, I was actually starting to write a letter when I heard the commotion. Should I write to Charlie too?”

“I can take care of that,” Ginny says. “But I don’t know how much help he’ll be. Merlin knows he won’t be willing to confront mom about any of this, he’s not nearly brave enough when it comes to her. You’re more rebellious than he is in that regard, and you’re you!”

“I am not rebellious, I’m just more willing and learned than Charlie,” Percy protests.

“Penny is rubbing off on you.”

“I know.”

Harry drifts off a few minutes later, knowing that Ginny and Percy will watch over him.

He can’t help but feel a little uneasy sleeping in such a big room. His cupboard is tiny, but Harry is quite used to sleeping in small spaces. It’s only the exhaustion he feels and the way Ginny and Percy are acting as guards between him and the door that lets him finally doze off.

________________________________________

Michael can hear Catherine and Amos arguing from all the way in his room. He wishes he could hear more, knowing they are talking about Harry.

But Michael isn’t an heir to the House of Diggory, so it wouldn’t be appropriate. Even Cedric gets to listen in, but Michael is just left to wonder.

It’s times like this that Michael really dislikes his stepfather. Amos is so “willing” to have a relationship with his stepson, but also makes sure to ensure that Michael is never officially a part of the House of Diggory, and even his mother supports him. Only Cedric really accept Michael as a member of the House.

Even getting Michael to hyphenate his last name was a struggle, for both Amos and Michael. Michael only agreed once he got to know Cedric better.

Say what you will about Amos, but Cedric is one of Michael’s best friends and his brother. He made sure Michael felt included, especially since after his sudden move from America. He made Michael feel like he had a choice, when his mother made him feel like he had none. He made Michael feel like he had an ally in his own home for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever.

It was a rough time, after the move, and only Cedric and his best friend, Rolf Scamander, kept him sane.

Speaking of Rolf.

Michael can feel his bond to his best friend and sends a little wave of interest along the bond, just enough to get Rolf’s attention.

Michael’s fireplace is bursting to life just a few minutes later.

“Michael, what’s wrong?” Rolf asks.

“What do you know about the Potters?”

________________________________________

Daphne sits alone in her room, adjusting her plans.

Harry is intriguing. She doesn’t know for sure how he’ll factor in yet, but she’ll definitely have to adjust for his arrival.

He didn't seem particularly powerful at first glance, but there was definitely something there. The way magic seemed to cling to him a bit longer than it does most people, and how much of it accumulated around him. The way it seemed to swirl around him, and move and change with his mood was impressive and confusing at the same time. His magical core was average at best, but he carried magic with his every step in a way Daphne has never seen before.

She’ll have to do more research.

Daphne feels a ping of interest through her bond to Tracey and responds in kind, inviting Tracey to join her. Tracey comes bounding into her room a few minutes later.

“Adrian and Miriam are discussing Harry,” Tracey supplies immediately as she sits on Daphne's bed. Daphne doesn’t turn around to look at the girl, still sitting at her desk. “Miriam says he’s malnourished.”

“What do you say?”

“He’s obviously malnourished,” Tracey says. “He hasn’t been sleeping well either. His development has stalled, since he’s much shorter than Charles. There were also injuries. I’m not sure of how many or how recent, but there were several.”

“How could you tell?”

“He had a slight limp. And his shirt sleeves were always firmly over his arms.”

Daphne nods. She hadn’t even noticed, but that’s why she asked Tracey. “How concerned are you?”

“He’s on week two,” Tracey cryptically answers. “But he’s likely been there for a while.”

Daphne understands.

Tracey Davis was born into the Davis family, of Anthony and Roxanne Davis nee Travers. The Ancient House of Davis is a notoriously Dark. They had a number of Death Eaters in their extended family, and they avidly supported the Dark Lord during his reign of terror.

So the revelation that Roxanne Davis nee Travers was actually a muggleborn was quite a shock, even if Roxanne was blood adopted by the late Travers Lord and Lady.

Roxanne was dead within a week. Tracey was removed from the Davis Manor and became a Ward of the House of Greengrass at the end of week four.

Week one was the worst, and week three followed after, when her extended family came to the Davis Manor, but week two was horrible for Tracey as well. Week four was slightly better since Lord Greengrass started negotiations to bring Tracey in as a Ward of the more powerful Grey House due to the newly developing friendship between the heir apparent of their House and heiress Davis. This gave Tracey a degree of protection until she officially became a Ward of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Greengrass. Tracey has lived with them ever since.

“Suggestions?”

“No legal avenues,” Tracey answers, which Daphne already knew, but it’s good that Tracey is learning as well. “Only chance to remove him is for Harry to leave of his own fruition.”

“How likely do you think that is?”

“That depends on Jacob’s letter,” Tracey answers. “Have you sent Harry’s letter to him yet?”

“Not yet,” Daphne says. “I’m sending one of my own. My godfather will want to hear from me as well, since I will be able to provide more information.”

Tracey sits in silence for a few minutes, watching as her friend drafts a letter and occasionally writes in her journal. She starts to swing her legs back and forth as she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Yes?” Daphne asks. “Something to say?”

“You like him,” Tracey says. “You find him intriguing.”

“He is intriguing,” Daphne says.

“You are adjusting your plans. You haven’t done that in a while.”

“I haven’t needed to. Now I do.”

“What do I need to do?”

“Befriend him, if you can. I’ll try to do the same.”

Tracey nods. “Of course, but if he ends up in Gryffindor, we might not be able to do much. You are definitely going to be a Slytherin, and I’ll probably be one too. We won’t be able to do anything then.”

Daphne doesn’t answer, which is answer enough for Tracey.

“Oh, you don’t think he’s going to be a Gryffindor. Interesting.”

“Can you go see if Astoria would be willing to write to Ginny?” Daphne asks Tracey.

“She already is,” Tracey says, as she gets off the bed. “But I’ll go check on her anyways, for your sake.”

Tracey leaves the room, and Daphne is by herself again.

Which is good. Harry’s arrival is really upsetting the plans she had, and it’s going to take all night to attempt to fix her strategy.

________________________________________

Jacob Potter is hardly a very popular man, and neither is the majority of his team of curse breakers.

Anita Rosier was all but disowned by her family when she refused to marry an Avery after she graduated from Hogwarts, instead choosing to run away with her then boyfriend, David Hall.

David Rosier, Anita’s husband, has a grandparent who was a werewolf. David himself doesn’t have the curse, but the taint on his family still makes him an outcast to society. So much so that he actually took Anita’s last name after his mother died two years ago.

Ivy Dagworth is a muggleborn, at least according to the ministry. She is actually descended from a line of squibs relating back to the Dagworth-Granger family, but the family refused to acknowledge the woman. Ivy protested the lack of acknowledgement, which destroyed her reputation in wizarding society. Rather than be forced to live in the muggle world after her parents passed, Ivy chose employment at Gringotts due to their cavalier attitude towards wizarding politics.

Bill is the only member of the team that could be considered “popular” or even well loved by his family. With a loving father, and overbearing mother, and six younger siblings of varying worth in Jacob’s mind, Bill has quite the large family.

Personally, Jacob dislikes most of the Weasley children, but he quite likes the fire in Ginny Weasley. Percy and Charlies are also entertaining, being complete opposites of each other. Percy is uptight but well-versed and learned, while Charlie is relaxed and cares for little besides dragons and quidditch.

But needless to say, Jacob is not a very popular man. His own blood family dislikes him to a certain degree, with only Rose even being somewhat neutral towards him. Even his former bond to his cousin, Lord Potter, has long since faded away. And his own parents are dead.

Which just leaves his second family, the Greengrasses, and his goddaughters Daphne and Astoria. Daphne is hardly the kind to waste time or parchment on unnecessary missives, so most of his letters are from the much more friendly of his goddaughters, Astoria.

So he’s quite surprised to find two letters in his hand when they arrive back at their base camp.

Bill is not shocked to find a letter from his family but is shocked to find that the letter is addressed by both Percy and Ginny and is quite large.

The rest of the team watches with curious eyes as the two men read their letters.

By the end of the letter, Jacob is scowling.

“Harry is a wizard. I knew it! Bloody James, casting his own son off like that without even proof that he was a squib. Even casting him out at all is atrocious!”

Anita, David, and Ivy all nod. They have been with Jacob for years now and are quite used to his anger and rants against James Potter.

Anita and David are surprised by the events and are mentally preparing themselves for a long night of nearly intolerable Jacob as he curses the name of his cousin.

Ivy is scowling at the revelation. “I still can’t believe they tried to disown him in the first place. A Light family!”

“At least we claim to be,” Jacob snarls.

“Bill?” Anita asks. “What does your letter say?”

Bill snaps up to look at his friends, a horrified expression on his face.

The story Bill tells enrages Jacob so much that David has to stun the man in order to calm him down.

Even then, they take Jacob’s wand away from him before reviving him.

“I always knew that Charles kid was a brat,” Jacob snarls. “James 2.0 if you ask me. He didn't get any of the intelligence Lily used to have. Obviously, Harry got all of that. That’s clear in his letter.”

“How is he doing?” Ivy asks.

“He seems off in his letter,” Jacob answers. “I don’t know how to explain it, but he seems almost desperate. Like he’s really hoping I can help him, but he doesn’t state it outright. Daphne suggested I give him the key to my place.”

“The alohomora key?” David asks. “She thinks it’s that bad.”

Jacob nods. “She also suggested I give him Hedwig, Ares’ daughter.”

Jacob looks over at where the owls are, and not only does Ares, Jacob’s owl, perk up in interest, but Hedwig does as well. Those two bloody birds, too clever for their own good.

“She wants to give him Hedwig?” Ivy asks. “She must see something in him.”

Everyone else nods. They don’t understand Daphne like Jacob does, but they all know that if Daphne is suggesting all that, then it means something.

“If Harry’s got Daphne’s approval, then he must have a good head on his shoulders,” Anita says. “You should listen to her.”

“Damn right I will,” Jacob says. “I’m plenty smart, but that also means I know when to listen to those that know more than me. I just wish I could be there for Harry.”

All of the curse breakers wince at the sadness in Jacob’s voice.

They all know how much it hurt Jacob when Harry was sent to live with Lily’s family, and when he was told he couldn’t overturn James’ decision as Lord Potter to place Harry there.

It hit Jacob hard. He spent about a year just completely devastated by the news, especially since James refused to let Jacob visit Harry unless Harry himself allowed it, which the boy couldn’t do since he didn't even know Jacob existed.

Jacob eventually threw himself into work, becoming one of the top curse breakers for British branch of Gringotts and gaining his team in the process.

Ivy came first and is Jacob’s second in command despite being younger than Anita and David, who joined the team a year later. Bill is the newest addition, only joining a little over a year ago but quickly fitting in.

Jacob took his team on more dangerous missions than most curse breakers were willing to take. Missions that took years instead of weeks or months.

They just started a particularly difficult project about 2 months ago, and the contract for this project lasts 2 years.

The tricky thing about contracts signed with Gringotts is that they are unbreakable. Even with the news, Jacob can’t leave the project until his contract is completed.

Which means he is stuck with them, and no way to reach Harry besides letters.

“If you can only write to him, then you better start fucking writing,” Ivy says, snapping Jacob out of his stupor. “No need to make the kid think you abandoned too. Go write your letter. Now!”

Jacob quickly complies, a bit more pep in his step than a few minutes before.

“Maybe the House of Potter has a chance to actually be worth something again now,” Jacob says aloud but to no one in particular.

________________________________________

August 4, 1991

Shopping the second time is a much different experience. Lily absolutely refuses to let Harry out of her sight as she drags him from shop to shop, gathering everything from a trunk to a cauldron.

Harry doesn’t get the chance to look through the bookstore like he might have wanted before Lily is rushing him to their next destination, placating him by insisting they have many of the same books in the Potter family library.

It’s not very comforting, since Harry’s not actually sure he’ll have access to the Potter family library for much longer, but he goes along so he doesn’t cause an argument.

Ollivander’s is an interesting experience for Harry. It takes the boy over an hour to finally find a wand that the man deems adequate.

“It’s peculiar,” Ollivander says. “I’ve never had such a difficult customer. Even the wand that chose you is only the best fit, rather than the perfect one. Most peculiar indeed.”

Lily notes briefly that his wand core is the same as Charles’ before she’s rushing them to their next destination.

Lily walks into a bank about halfway through their shopping, needing to restock on her galleons. Harry stands in the lobby, staring at the interior and the goblins in awe. At least until one of the tellers glares at Harry and he quickly turns away.

Lily shoves a key in his hand when he gets back out, telling him it’s the key to his trust vault and not to lose it. Harry quickly pockets it, putting it next to his wand and making sure to keep both of them safe and secure.

Before Harry even has the chance to process the day, Harry is back in one of the guest bedrooms at Potter Manor, staring at his new school supplies and clothes.

He’s heavily considering venturing back out into the manor to find the Potter library again and hopefully find some books that could help understand this new world better, but Harry eventually decides against it.

Leaving this room would mean that he could run into Charles, Lily, or James, none of which he’s seen since yesterday, and Harry would rather avoid that for as long as possible.

Harry barely notices a tapping noise on his window. At least, not until the noise starts to get louder and more frequent.

Harry is surprised to find an owl sitting on the windowsill, glaring at him, before he remembers what Michael said about owls delivering letters in the wizarding world.

Harry pulls the window open, and the owl drops the letter on the desk in the bedroom, before settling on top of one of the dressers.

Harry picks up the envelope, glad to see that it’s addressed to him.

The second piece of mail he’s ever received. Let’s see if it’s as shocking as the first.

Harry rips open the letter and starts reading.

Dear nephew,

First let me introduce myself. My name is Jacob Potter, and I am your uncle. I’m actually your second cousin, once removed, but I find it’s easiest just to refer to you as my nephew. I hope that is ok with you.
I’m so glad to hear that you’re safe. At least for now. I wish I could be there for you, but I can’t leave my people out here on this mission by themselves. They need me.

I know that’s a selfish thing to say. You need me too.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I tried, I really tried to get custody of you when you were sent away. I wasn’t the only one either. I know that several families offered to host you:

The Bones, or what’s left of them. Though that Amelia Bones is one feisty woman. Don’t mess with her kid, and you can always trust her to be fair. I hear that that niece of hers is a spit fire too.

The Abbotts. Serena Abbott was a muggleborn, so I can’t possibly see why Lily would object to them. I guess that was James’ doing. Stupid Git.

The Diggorys, though from what I’ve heard, it was a piss-poor attempt. Amos only really tried because it was expected of him. If only that son of his was in charge of the House instead of him. I heard that Cedric took his newest stepbrother under his wing when Amos and his mother were considering sending him to live with his bonded instead of them. But maybe that would have been for the best.

The Tonks. Good family. Muggleborn patriarch, disowned black matriarch, and metamorphmagus daughter. I believe they’re your cousins of some sort, though mostly through your godfather, and your parents had good reason not to trust anyone related to your godfather, but the Tonks are a good bunch.

The Weasleys. Like they needed more kids. I hear they can barely handle the ones they had. Though the oldest sure is easy on the eyes. And I hear you’ve at least somewhat bonded with their daughter.

The Longbottoms, or should I say Augusta Longbottom.

Emmeline Vance. An ex-girlfriend of mine and a fine hitwitch. She worked with your parents in the war. Don’t mess with her Harry, bitch knows some curses. She’ll only aim them to defend others though (or me, it was a messy breakup). Send her a letter Harry. She could help you with things.

Marlene McKinnon. She was one of your sister’s best friends back at Hogwarts. She went off the grid when she wasn’t allowed to adopt you. You should send her a letter Harry. She was your godmother after all. I don’t she ever forgave Lily for leaving you with the Dursleys. I don’t blame her.

Remus Lupin. The last of your father’s best friends and a werewolf at that. If only he had the balls to leave when James practically stabbed him in the back. He’s also your brother’s godfather.

Don’t send Remus a letter. Make him come to you. Then decide if you want him in your life.

The point is Harry, is that you have people. More than you could ever know. People care about you already. Just reach out.

Besides, from what I’ve heard from my goddaughter, Daphne, you are already going out of your way to form some connections.

Very Slytherin of you Harry.

Very Slytherin indeed.

I’m impressed.

So was Daphne (Don’t tell her said that. My goddaughter is smart enough to not leave evidence behind if I had an “accident”).

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry I’m not there for you.

I promise, as soon as this mission is over, I’m coming to get you. Wherever you are. You’re the last Potter I actually consider family.

Not your git of a father, or his mini clone.

You.

Sadly this mission is going to take quite a while. A little less than two years, so I should be there at the end of your second year.

Plan to see me at King’s Crossing when you get out of school that year. I’m excited to meet you.

I will try to write to you as often as possible. I can’t guarantee weekly letters or even every other week, but I will do my best to guarantee at least monthly ones.

Don’t be afraid to write to me Harry. Just send them to me and I’ll get them even if I don’t respond right away. I want to know what’s going on in your life.

Speaking of letters, I hope you and Hedwig are getting along. She’s the owl who delivered this letter, and she’s yours now. My first of many gifts to you. She’s a good owl, but her father and her get into too many fights. They’re both too prideful.

Word of advice Harry, don’t ever use another owl for a letter, unless it’s a response to an initial letter or Hedwig is already delivering something.

It won’t end well.

But she is a beauty isn’t she. I think she’s even smarter than old Ares here (don’t tell him I said that).
Now here’s the advice part of this letter:

Step 1: Read.

Read everything you can get your hands on. Wizarding history. Charms. Potions. Defense. Wizarding Culture and Customs. Everything.

Devour your textbooks and pull every piece of knowledge out of them. Then move onto the next one.
The sad fact is the fact that you were muggle-raised puts you at a severe disadvantage.

Things that seem common sense to wizarding-raised children make no sense to muggle-raised.

For example, I bet you don’t know where to locate a bezoar.

Look that one up. It’s super important.

Also, put a special emphasis on Pureblood etiquette. If I’m right about you, you are definitely going to need it.

Step 2: Make Connections.

Start by sending letters to the people I mentioned above. They’ll respond. Most of them will want to meet with you.

Meet with them. Expand your social circle. Make allies. All kinds of allies. Allies of different backgrounds. Don’t discriminate in anyway. Just go for anyone that’s useful.

I wouldn’t put it past James to do something stupid that could hurt you if you don’t have people in the right places. Get those people.

Step 3: Watch out for Dumbledore.

You probably don’t know who that is yet. Well, he’s the headmaster at Hogwarts, and is considered the head of the Light Alliance in wizarding Britain.

I don’t trust him and you shouldn’t either.

Avoid eye contact with him at all times, and always have an excuse when you are around him.
Get away from him but do it discreetly.

He’s dangerous. I don’t think he would hurt you outright, but he did help convince James and Lily to send you to the Dursleys.

Step 4: Find some place to stay.

I don’t want you to ever have to go back to the Dursleys so find some place to stay and fast. Use those connections and guilt trip Lily into letting you stay elsewhere.

She at least seems to feel guilty about the whole thing. More than I can say for James.

If it gets really bad, go to my apartment and crash there.

It’s in Knockturn Alley, so be careful. I don’t like the idea of you going there by yourself, but it might be your only choice. I left a key with the letter. Keep it with you.

It’s my Alohomora-Key. It can open any door not specifically warded against the spell. It should serve you well. It will also open my apartment.

Step 5: Have Fun!

You’re a wizard Harry. Learn what that means and enjoy your new life. You deserve it.

I’m so sorry I can’t be there Harry, but I love you. Stay safe and don’t forget to write.

I’ll see you in two years.

Signed with love,

You’re favorite Uncle/Cousin

Jacob Potter

Harry sets down the letter, turning to face the owl in the room.

“Do you feel like delivering a few more letters today?”

Hedwig preens and chirps in response and Harry smiles at the bird before pulling out some loose parchment paper from his supplies.

Chapter Text

August 4th, 1991

It takes Harry all of about 10 minutes into the “family dinner” for him to realize that his stay at Potter Manor will be short-lived.

Charles is still avoiding Harry’s gaze, and the guilt coming off his twin is intense. Harry doesn’t feel that sorry for him though.

He doesn’t believe Charles did what he did out of malice, but that doesn’t make it excusable.

And Harry hasn’t received a proper apology from Charles either.

In Harry’s mind, Charles is no better than Dudley a few years ago. A bully who is starting to develop a moral code, but it isn’t fully developed yet. Now, even Dudley is better than Harry’s supposed “brother”.

James is insufferable, talking about Wizengamot, and the Light Alliance, and the Hogwarts Houses, and Gryffindors, and everything he thinks Harry should know, but Harry only has passing knowledge of, if any knowledge at all.

Several times during the meal, Harry reminds his father that he does not actually know what the man is talking about, only for James to blurt out some pitiful explanation and mow right along. Harry stops reminding his father after a while, realizing that James doesn’t seem to care much about if Harry understands him or not.

Rose just seems confused. Earlier, Harry’s sister dragged him into her room, showing off all of her Holyhead Harpies memorabilia. She actually answered a few of Harry’s questions about quidditch and didn't seem annoyed when he pressed for more information. She was definitely Harry’s favorite “family” member so far, except for maybe Jacob. If he counts, Harry isn’t quite sure since Harry only knows about the man from the Greengrasses and Ginny.

Lily is less insufferable than James, but still quite annoying. She also seems to avoid Harry’s gaze, and even Harry’s pointed questions about where he is going to stay.

Her careful avoidance of the subject is enough for Harry to know where he’s going to be staying.

Back to the cupboard. Unless ...

Harry reaches into his pocket, finding the alohomora key Jacob gave him, along with his vault key and his wand.

Harry smiles, confusing everyone at the table, but they don’t push him for answers.

“If I’m going back to the Dursley’s, the least you could do is tell me,” Harry interjects, cutting James mid-sentence. “I need to know, so I can finish packing my trunk.”

“Yes,” James answers, with the same bored expression on his face. “It will be better for you, staying where you are most comfortable.”

Harry scoffs. “Glad to know where you stand.”

“Why can’t he stay here mom?” Rose asks.

Lily stares at Rose with sad eyes, putting on a great show of sympathy for one of her favored children. “Harry is more used to staying with the Dursley’s. It’ll be better for him, especially before he has to go to Hogwarts. Give him some normalcy while he can still have it.”

“Good to know I’m still a part of this family,” Harry says. “Maybe you should just take my last name. You clearly want nothing to do with me.”

“Harry-”

“Why should we let you stay here?” Charles asks. “We barely even know you?”

Harry sneers at Charles. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Harry-” James tries to scold, but Harry just laughs.

“Oh please James. We both know the only reason I’m here is because it’s required of you. I’ve already been demoted from Heir Apparent, despite being older than Charles, but we both know that you can’t disown me. Not yet at least. So you have to do this. You have to pay for my education and give me a trust fund. Everything else, paying for my supplies and clothes, well I suppose that’s to protect your image. Since we both know you don’t care about me.”

“We do care,” Lily protests. “Harry, we love you.”

“If this is love, then I clearly haven’t been missing much.”

Lily flinches back, and Rose just stares at both her parents in confusion. Charles has clearly forgotten his earlier guilt and is now glaring at his twin.

“Kids, go upstairs,” Lily says to Charles and Rose. Harry inwardly winces at the thought that his own mother is addressing her children, yet he’s not included.

“But mom-”

“Go,” Lily says forcefully, and the two quickly leave the dining room.

“My guess is that your image is quite important to you. Charles seems to have an important place in wizarding society, and our family is part of the nobility. So hearing about me and how I’ve been treated … well, it wouldn’t reflect well on you.”

Lily just stares at Harry while James looks both shocked and angry as Harry continues to speak.

“I have to wonder, just how important is your image? It’s obviously more important to you than I am. I wonder how far you’ll go to protect it?”

“What do you want?” James asks.

“Double my trust fund,” Harry says. “I doubt it’ll be as big as Charles’ or even Rose’s with that amount, so really, it’s the least you could do. And I want 50 books from the Potter family library, of my choosing. You can veto up to five of my choices, but I get to select new ones. And I want a library trunk, the top of the line one, and I don’t want to have to pay for it.”

Harry remembers the cost of those library trunks. Definitely something Harry wants, but it’s also not something Harry wants to have to pay for.

James winces when Harry mentions how his trust fund is most likely smaller than his siblings’, which is all the confirmation he needs.

“Done. But you have to stay with the Dursley’s.”

Harry’s eyes narrow. “No. Find somewhere else.”

“There’s nowhere else.”

“There’s always somewhere else,” Harry says. “It’s just for the summer. Find somewhere else.”

“You’ll have to go back there next summer,” Lily says. “And every summer after that, until you graduate from Hogwarts.”

“Why?”

“There are wards on the property. Strong ones. Ones that can protect you, Charles, and Rose, if needed, but they need to be recharged each year, so you’ll need to stay there each summer.”

“How long?” Harry asks.

“At least a month,” Lily answers.

Harry bites down the urge to curse but manages to hold his tongue. “Fine.”

He’ll have to figure out something for next summer, but at least he’ll be free for now.

“I can probably have you stay with the Weasle-” James starts to say, but Harry quickly interrupts him.

“I have some ideas actually. I was wondering if Amelia Bones or Serena Abbott would have me for the summer?”

Harry had considered asking for his godmother, but he hasn’t had a chance to send her a letter yet and it sounds like Lily and Marlene haven’t spoken in years. It’s safer to go with some of the other people on the list, and Amelia Bones and Serena Abbott seemed to be some of the few that Jacob, James, and Lily would all hold in high regard.

Lily and James look contemplative.

“Amelia is always swamped with work,” James says. “She barely has time for Susan. We can’t do that to her. But Serena …”

“She would be willing,” Lily adds. “I would have to confirm, but Serena would be willing. And her daughter, Hannah, is close to Harry’s age.”

James nods. “It could work.”

“Great,” Harry says. “You guys go confirm that. I’m going to go pick some books. You should probably order my library trunk too. I would make sure to get the best one they have, if you really want to buy my silence. One of them even had space inside for a reading nook. I quite liked it.”

________________________________________

Serena Abbott is many things. Loyal, clever, powerful, loving, and so many more. But she’s hardly forgiving.

Serena doesn’t forgive easily. But no one really knows that, besides herself and her husband, Mitchell. They assume she’s the perfect Hufflepuff, if not a bit more political than most. Like Lily, Serena is the poster child for muggleborns entering wizarding society. Both are powerful, beautiful, and quick to adjust. Their blood status is always a barrier they will face in this world, but it’s not one they can’t overcome.

Serena and Lily are quite alike in many ways, which is perhaps why they were both such good friends. But there is one clear difference between the two ladies.

Namely, Serena is a good mother. Lily Potter is not.

That’s not to say that Lily Potter is a terrible mother. She does the best she can for Charles, given the boy’s fame and James’ obvious favoritism. And Rose is a well-behaved child, and a good friend to her son Jeremy.

But Lily could never be considered a good mother, not after what she did to Harry.

Serena remembers when Lily told her where she planned to send Harry after he was discovered to be a squib.

Serena spent months petitioning for custody of Harry. Lily claimed that Petunia would raise Harry well since he was non-magical, but Serena remembers the stories of Lily’s jealous sister. And besides, Harry deserved to be raised in the world where he belonged and by someone who cared for him. Harry deserved a family that didn't just tolerate him but loved him.

Serena pursued every legal avenue available, teaming up with Jacob Potter, Emmeline Vance, and Marlene McKinnon, all three desperate to get the boy out of the Dursley home.

They failed. As Lord Potter, James had every right to decide where his son lived. The bastard.

Jacob Potter fell into despair, eventually becoming a curse breaker and throwing himself into his work.

Emmeline also threw herself into her work, which there was no shortage. The decorated and skilled hitwitch was in constant demand by DMLE.

Marlene McKinnon disappeared not long after their last legal avenue failed, and Serena has never heard from her since. Serena has tried to find her through the years, but the woman was so distraught after losing Harry.

Serena, on the other hand, played the gracious loser after her failure. She managed to claw herself back into wizarding society, with the help of her husband, the new Lord Abbott, and remained public friends with Lily.

But Serena never forgave Lily. She loathes the woman to this day. She never let Hannah and Charles spend much time together, and only let Jeremy and Rose become friends for Rose’s sake.

Serena is willing to play the role of close friend to Lily Potter for now. Until she gets the chance, the opportunity, to get Harry out of that home and help him. And if that’s when he finally turns 19 and James' order of non-communication with the boy ends, then so be it.

Thankfully, Serena won’t have to wait that long.

Hannah came rushing into her mother’s office earlier this morning, anxious to tell Serena everything she learned from her friend, Michael Thorne-Diggory.

Hannah doesn’t know much about Harry, but she knows that her mother cares for the boy. She’s been waiting for information like this for years, and Hannah was happy to provide it to her mother.

“It appears I will need to write a letter to Lily Potter,” Serena says. “Extend an invitation for Harry to stay at Abbott Manor. Would that be ok with you Hannah?”

“Of course mom,” Hannah says, before her nose scrunches up in disgust. “As long as he’s nothing like Charles.”

Serena laughs. “I’m sure he’s not, my angel. I have to go talk to your father, could you play with your brother for a little bit?”

Hannah groans, but quickly agrees. “Can I go see Rolf and Michael tomorrow? Susan might be able to go too.”

“Why don’t we play it by ear?” Serena suggests. “Maybe even ask if they can come here, just in case.”

Hannah nods, rushing off to meet her brother.

Serena spends the next few hours writing letters, just finishing penning one to Jacob Potter, when her floo flares to life.

“Serena?” Lily asks over the floo. “Are you free?”

“Yes Lily,” Serena says. “Come through.”

“Pixie,” Serena calls, summoning her House-elf to her side.

“Yes mistress?” Pixie asks.

“Could you go ask Mitchell to meet me in my office as soon as my meeting with Lady Potter is over?”

“Of course mistress,” Pixie says, before popping away.

Lily walks out of the fireplace a few seconds later, and Serena gestures for Lily to sit down across from her.

“Please sit,” Serena says. “Would you like some tea? Any refreshments?”

Lily shakes her head. “No thank you Serena.”

“So, I suppose you want to talk about Harry?” Serena asks, shocking Lily.

“How did you-”

“My daughter heard from her friend, Michael Thorne-Diggory, who met Harry at Diagon Alley yesterday. I was going to contact you about having him and Hannah meet up soon, to get to know each other before they head off for Hogwarts, but I suppose you have a different idea if you are meeting me now.”

Lily nods. “Yes, I actually do. Or more correctly, Harry has a better idea.”

Serena waves her hand, gesturing for Lily to continue, as she pours herself a cup of tea. Pixie was grateful enough to provide her with chamomile, hoping it would help keep her calm. It won’t, but it’s the thought that counts.

“James and I have decided that it would be best if Harry didn't stay at Potter Manor this summer.”

“May I ask why?” Serena asks.

Lily’s face falters, and Serena resists the urge to both roll her eyes and curse the woman.

“Never mind. Forgive my rudeness. Continue please.”

“Well, we were going to have him stay with the Dursleys again for the summer, since we thought he would be more comfortable with them.”

“Naturally,” Serena drawls, sipping on her tea to hide her scowl.

“Harry somehow learned of both you and Amelia Bones and asked if he could stay with one of you two for the remainder of the summer, so he can adjust to living in the wizarding world. James and I decided that you would be a better option. You know how busy Amelia is.”

Serena does know. Susan often spends time at Abbott Manor or the Scamander Reserve for that exact reason. She even has a bedroom in both houses.

“Would you be willing to host Harry for the summer? We would of course pay for all expenses.”

“Nonsense,” Serena says. “I would much rather you put the cost of any expenses into Harry’s trust fund. We can handle providing for Harry for the summer if we do host him. I will of course have to ask Mitchell first.”

Lily nods, standing up. “Will you get back to me soon?”

“Of course Lily. Within the hour. I will send Pixie over with my answer.”

“Thank you,” Lily says, smiling at her friend.

“Of course. Anything for a friend.”

The word “friend” feels like sandpaper in Serena’s mouth.

Lily hugs Serena, before flooing back to Potter Manor.

“Bitch,” Serena mutters, just as Mitchell walks into the office.

“Was that Lily?” Mitchell asks his wife.

“Yes.”

Mitchell takes note of his wife’s annoyance, walking over and kissing her gently, before grabbing her hand and sitting them both down. “What did she do this time?”

Serena laughs, laying her head on her husband’s shoulder. Mitchell wraps his arm around her, holding her close.

“Harry is back. He’s a wizard.”

“I’ve heard,” Mitchell says. “Hannah can talk about nothing else. That boy has the Thorne-Diggory boy all excited, and even Rolf is anxious to meet Harry.”

“Lily asked him if we could host him for the summer.”

“Did you say yes?”

“Not yet. I figured I would ask you first, even though I already know your answer. This is your House anyways, Lord Abbott.”

Mitchell chuckles, rolling his eyes. He pushes strands of his wife’s blonde hair out of her face and stares into her eyes. “Our House. Everything that’s mine is yours.”

Serena smiles up at her husband, leaning up to kiss him. Serena dated a couple of boys before Mitchell, and all of them were infatuated with her, but none loved her as deeply as Mitchell did. Mitchell would serve the world on a platter for her if she asked for it. Serena fell in love with Mitchell on that first Hogsmeade date all those years ago. And she vowed to love him just as deeply as he loved her.

“Thank you Mitchell.”

“Anytime beautiful. So, I’m going to go tell Dixie to set up the guest bedroom. I’m thinking of the one on the other side of Susan’s room. Does that work?”

“I love you,” Serena says in answer.

“I love you too. Now go tell Lily so that boy knows he has somewhere to stay.”

________________________________________

Harry stuffs his new books into his trunk. He might have to upgrade, but he hopes he will have more room once the books are located in a separate library trunk. Lily told him in would be delivered within the week.

Lily also informed him that Serena Abbott agreed to host him for the summer, which Harry hopes is a good thing. He actually doesn’t know much about her, only what he learned from Jacob’s letter, which was sparse on information.

Harry hopes he made a good decision asking to be hosted by her.

Harry is just starting to write his letters when someone knocks on his door.

Harry tells them to come in, surprised when Rose opens the door.

Though she is the preferable choice out of all of the Potters. She is the only one Harry has held an enjoyable conversation with so far.

“Hello,” Harry greets. “Was there something you needed to ask me?”

Rose nods, before quickly getting distracted. “When did you get an owl?”

“Her name is Hedwig,” Harry says. “She was a gift.”

Rose just nods, seemingly accepting his non-answer. “She’s very pretty.”

Hedwig preens and Harry smiles at her. “Yes, she is.”

Hedwig chirps in approval, flying down to land on Harry’s shoulder. Harry scratches the back her head in greeting and Hedwig seems to like the motion, chirping again.

“Would you like to sit?” Harry asks, gesturing to his bed.

Rose nods, taking a seat. “You’re already packed?”

Harry nods.

“I … I’m sorry you have to go.”

“Not your fault,” Harry says.

“I know, but still.”

Harry and Rose sit in awkward silence for a few minutes before Rose finally breaks it again.

“Do you like it here? You don’t really seem sad about leaving.”

Truthfully, Harry doesn’t really mind the fact that he’s leaving. Potter Manor is better than living with the Dursleys, though not by much considering the incident yesterday. Harry would be upset if he was being sent back to Dursleys tomorrow, but instead he’s going to stay with the Abbotts. He doesn’t know how that will compare to his past experiences, but it’s unlikely to be worse.

“I’ve barely even had time to be here,” Harry answers honestly, even if it’s not the entire truth.

Rose nods. “I wish you didn't have to go.”

Harry frowns. “You do?”

“Yeah. Charles is fine and everything, but … he’s always so busy and he never has time for me. You took the time to actually talk to me today. He hasn’t done that in a long time, always wanting to spend time with Ron or his other friends instead.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says. “I wish things were better for you.”

And Harry truly does. He bears no ill will to his sister. She deserves the best life she can live.

“It’s ok, I just wish I had someone else, you know? Another brother.”

“Maybe you could come visit over the summer? Or we could write letters?”

Rose smiles. “That sounds nice.”

“Then it’s settled. I’m sure Hedwig would love to deliver letters to you during the school year as well.”

Hedwig chirps in answer.

“Thank you Harry. I suppose I’ll let you get back to writing letters.”

Rose stands up to leave, pausing at the doorway. She turns around suddenly, pulling Harry in for a hug. Harry flinches at the sudden interaction but manages to relax after a few seconds.

Rose lets go after a few minutes, walking out of the room without another word.

Harry sits back at the desk, knowing he has letters he needs to write.

________________________________________

Emmeline Vance barely gets the chance to collapse on the bed in her hotel room when an owl comes swooping into the room, sitting down on the owl stand.

Emmeline groans, rolling over so she can get up.

She’s been on lookout duty for the last several hours in the slums of magical Paris.

She’s been tracking down a couple of suppliers of black-market magical carpet sellers for the last few weeks with a small contingent of other hitwizards and hitwitches. She was hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before she got a letter from the DMLE, likely extending her mission, but it’s clear that she has no such luck.

Emmeline walks over to the owl, pauses when she sees the owl’s beautiful white coat. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Emmeline says, scratching the back of the owl’s head. “I’ve only ever seen one owl with a coat like that before. Beautiful bird. I pitied him for being stuck with his owner. Hopefully you have a much better owner.””

The owl preens, dropping one letter in her hand, but she’s clearly still holding several others. The owl makes no movement to leave.

Emmeline sighs. She’ll have to reply then. She rips the letter open, not even noticing who it’s from until she gets to the first line.

Dear Emmaline Vance,

This is going to sound really strange, but my name is Harry Potter. I know it must be strange to hear from me after all these years. You’re probably even wondering how I know about you. Well to get to that, I must start by telling you a little story.

You already know the part about me being sent to the Dursleys, and I know that you tried to get custody of me. Even though I do not remember you, I appreciate the gesture. I also hope that that goodwill may still be extended, because I believe I need your help.

A few days ago, I discovered I was a wizard. I knew something was … wrong with me for lack of a better vocabulary. I could always do unexplainable things, and the Dursleys did not like that.

I also discovered that not only are my parents still alive, but that I have a twin brother and a younger sister. I was made to believe that my parents had died in a car accident shortly after I was born. It was a bit of shock to learn that that wasn’t true.

The day after I learned everything, I met my family, and they took me to Diagon Alley. I can say with confidence that it was a nigh disaster. I was forgotten for several hours. The only upside was meeting new friends in Michael Thorne-Diggory, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass. I also conversed with the Greengrasses for several hours and even the Diggorys for a brief time. After Lily and James realized their blunder, they came to get me from Diagon Alley. I became well acquainted with Ginny and Percy Weasley that evening, though that may have been mostly due to an unfortunate event that I would rather not discuss over letter. Let’s just say that I am not fond of my twin, though I find Rose quite enjoyable to be around.

After that, Lily and James decided it would best for me to not stay at Potter Manor for the summer. No, I am not asking you for a place to stay, simply informing you of the circumstances of the last few days. Actually, the Noble House of Abbott has agreed to host me for the remainder of the summer.

So as you can see, I’ve had a rough couple of days.

One of the bright spots was receiving a letter and a snowy white owl from my uncle/cousin, Jacob Potter.

Now, I know Jacob said the two of you weren’t on speaking terms, but please hear me out. Jacob speaks very highly of you. He was the one who told me that you attempted to gain custody of me, and that I should contact you. His letter was also the reason I asked to be hosted by the Abbotts as well.

I’m not sure if it is too forward of me to ask, but would you be willing to meet with me?

If you would, I will talk with my hosts to arrange a time that works best for everyone involved. If not, I completely understand.

Thank you for reading.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

P.S., the owl who delivered the letter is Hedwig. She loves compliments and head scratches. She seemed annoyed when I addressed a letter to you, which I am guessing means you are further away than most. Would you be willing to complement her and maybe feed her before sending her back? I hear owl treats are something most witches and wizards keep on hand, so I will have to buy some for myself soon. Thank you again.

Emmeline is sobbing by the time she finishes the letter, clutching it close.

“Oh Harry. What did they do to you?”

Emmeline steels herself, pulling out a piece of parchment. Hedwig will have many letters to deliver tonight. She feeds Hedwig some treats as she starts to pen a letter to Harry.

________________________________________

Amelia doesn’t have as strong of a reaction as Emmeline after reading her letter, but she does wipe a stray tear out of her eyes. And then another. She sends the owl on her way, telling the owl she can deliver her other letters and that Amelia will respond tomorrow.

She has a few people she wants to contact first.

Amelia pens letters to many people that night and resists the urge to send a howler to James Potter.

“Aunt Ami?” Susan asks, walking into her office. “What’s wrong? You aren’t usually up this late on your free night unless something bad has happened. Is it your work?”

“Nothing from work, sweetie,” Amelia answers. “Have you heard from Hannah today?”

Susan nods. “Yeah, she’s all excited because someone is coming to stay with her for the rest of the summer. Harry Potter. Is he really Charles’ twin?”

Amelia nods. “Yes he is. Would you be willing to help him when you spend time with the Abbotts? He’s new to our world, and he’ll have a hard time adjusting, at least at first.”

Or maybe not. Harry’s letter was masterfully written to evoke sympathy out of the reader. Amelia can’t help but be impressed by the boy.

“Of course. Should I just help him prepare for classes or …” Susan asks, letting her aunt infer the end of her question.

“He may not be the Heir Apparent, but he is an Heir of a Most Ancient and Noble House. Help him learn what he needs to know. I give you permission to lend him books from our library to help him as you see fit.”

Susan nods. “Thank you, Aunt Ami.”

“Of course sweetheart. Now, off to bed.”

“Ok. Goodnight.”

“I love you Susan.”

“Love you too.”

________________________________________

Ted Tonks immediately hands the letter over to his wife when he receives it, knowing her reading it is more important than himself.

Andromeda sniffles several times as she reads and curses even more.

“We’ll have to see if he’ll want an appointment,” Andromeda suggests, handing her husband back his letter.

“With which one of us?” Ted asks.

Ted Tonks is a renowned mind healer, even if a number of potential purebloods clients won’t even consider his practice due to his blood status. And Andromeda Tonks is an accomplished solicitor.

“Both,” Andromeda answers.

Ted pales, before starting to read the letter for himself.

________________________________________

Augusta Longbottom doesn’t react outwardly as she reads the letter from Harry Potter, but on the inside she’s seething.

Even when Augusta suspected that Neville might have been a squib, she never would have sent her grandson away. If anything, that just means the child should be more protected, not less.

Augusta herself tried to gain custody of Harry. She might have succeeded if it was Charles instead of Harry, due to the fact that Alice was Charles’ godmother. Though it would have still been unlikely, since even Marlene McKinnon failed to get custody of Harry.

The McKinnon seat at Wizengamot has remained empty ever since, leaving the Light Alliance weak with the loss of a powerful Noble and Ancient House and all of the House’s votes.

Augusta purses her lips as she considers what to do.

“Dabby!” Augusta calls out, and the house-elf appears by her side.

“Yes mistress?”

“Can you grab that book I had Neville read when he turned ten? The one about duties as an Heir to Most Ancient and Noble house.”

“Yes mistress,” Dabby says, before popping out.

Augusta dismisses Harry’s owl. “I will send him a letter soon, and I also have a gift for him. Please deliver your other letters.”

The owl chirps, flying out the window.

Augusta pulls out a roll of parchment and gets her quill ready.

She’ll have to speak to Neville tomorrow about everything she has learned. Maybe Neville can befriend the boy if they both end up in Gryffindor.

But Augusta has a sinking feeling that Harry will be sorted into a different house.

She hopes it doesn’t cause the boy too much trouble.

________________________________________

Adrian Greengrass ponders the letter Harry sent him, waving off the owl.

It’s barely over 24 hours since Harry and the Greengrass family first parted ways, and Adrian can tell much has happened since then.

Harry is handling the whole situation masterfully, as far as Adrian is concerned. And part of that might have been because the boy had help.

But there’s something special about the boy. He’s quite clever, but that’s not all. There’s a certain quality about him, a quiet strength that Adrian cannot quite explain.

Adrian was almost concerned by his sudden interest in the boy, before Daphne’s own interest became piqued by the boy. Adrian will be the first to admit that his daughter is a tactical genius. She rarely regards anyone that she doesn’t consider useful with more than the most basic and required greetings and platitudes. But she was different with Harry. Thoughtful and engaged.

The last time she was like that was with Tracey, and Tracey herself has been the biggest boon to the Greengrass family for the last several centuries, even if no one besides themselves has realized it yet. Though saving Tracey from the Ancient House of Davis also came a great cost for the House of Greengrass and the Grey Alliances as a whole.

Adrian is quite pleased that Harry is going to be staying with the Abbotts for the next month. They are a Light House, but not unreasonable. Michael Abbott is very agreeable, and Serena and Miriam get along quite well. They seem to have no grievances against slytherins, which is a nice change of pace after Dark Lord’s Reign of Terror over a decade ago.

Adrian has been trying to pull the House of Abbott away from the Light Alliance for years now. They are only a Noble House, but both Michael and Serena are powerful political figures. Adrian would be very pleased to have them join the small, yet influential Grey Alliance. And though they have never switched allegiances, they have never disregarded his efforts either.

This could make it much easier to allow Harry to meet with Tracey and Daphne a few times before September. Serena may not be particularly close with any of the Greengrass family, but she did get quite close with Jacob when they were both trying to get custody of Harry. Perhaps Adrian should send a letter to Jacob, asking if he can suggest to Serena to let Harry visit the Greengrass Manor.

Adrian looks out his window, noticing Harry’s owl leaving Tracey’s room, and flying to Daphne’s.

On the other hand, maybe Adrian should just let his girls handle this one. They are quite capable.

________________________________________

Tracey Davis smiles when she opens the letter, finding that it is from Harry.

“I suppose you have one for Daphne as well,” Tracey says to the owl.

The owl nods.

“Thank you then. You may go. Her letter is more important than mine. Have a good night pretty bird.”

The owl chirps before flying out the window.

Tracey is happy that Harry sent her a letter, even if she’s not exactly thrilled by the contents.

She’s quite disappointed in the Potters. Tracey has little love for the Light Alliance, but she prefers them to the Dark Alliance for personal reasons. She always assumed that Light Houses were above such … acts, even if it was just for the purpose of showboating against the Dark Houses and dark-leaning Grey House.

But the fact that the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter would do this to their own heir is almost unthinkable. They are supposed to be one of the most influential Light Houses, even without consideration for the “boy-who-lived”.

But Tracey saw proof of the mistreatment of Harry Potter for herself. She knows the signs. She knows the symptoms.

Tracey winces as phantom pain runs up her body, settling by her ribcage.

The reminder of her last few weeks with her birth family is a painful one.

One she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy, and certainly not Harry, her new friend.

Tracey lays back in her bed, waiting to see if Daphne calls for her. Tracey knows that she’ll have to follow Daphne’s lead for the next few weeks, until she gets a feel for how Daphne wants to handle Harry.

She hopes Daphne was serious about wanting to befriend Harry.

It would make his life much easier if she’s right about Harry’s sorting.

Tracey almost giggles. A Potter not being sorted into Gryffindor is almost unthinkable, but there’s little chance that Harry is sorted there. He’ll be sorted after his twin, and Harry’s distaste for Charles Potter was clear even in his carefully worded letter. There’s little chance he will stand to be in the same house as his twin.

And then of course, there are other considerations. Like Harry’s cleverness, loyalty, and cunning. His sorting could be very very interesting.

Tracey wonders how the next few months will play out.

________________________________________

Daphne finds herself mildly impressed by Harry’s letter. It’s clever, even if in a rudimentary way.

She jots down more notes in her notebooks, adjusting her strategy even further.

She looks up at the owl, noting the other letters the owl is carrying.

Daphne gives a nod of approval. “Take good care of him. Until someone can.”

Hedwig chirps, before flying out the window.

Daphne may be the one to take care of Harry. She just has to decide if he’s worth the investment. And the consequences that will fall upon her House.

________________________________________

Michael jolts when an owl lands next to him, before relaxing. The owl chirps at him several times in an almost mocking manner.

Michael chuckles. “Yeah I know, that was embarrassing of me.”

The owl chirps in agreement before dropping a letter on his desk.

Michael opens the letter quickly. Most of his friends just floo call him, so it’s rare that he gets a letter delivered. In fact, only one person ever really owls him.

And for good reason. Letters are easier to hide than floo calls, and Catherine Diggory would not be happy with him owling his cousin.

Catherine Diggory nee Parkinson hasn’t spoken to anyone from her birth family in years, and as far as she’s concerned, neither has Michael.

In reality, Pansy and Michael have a relationship that Michael couldn’t even begin to define but one that is definitely built on a foundation of trust. Michael definitely considers her family, even if it’s somewhat distant since they have only met in person a handful of times and only in the last year or so.

The House of Scamander’s stance of political neutrality certainly comes in handy sometimes. The Scamander Reserve has become one of the main meeting places for Rolf, Michael, and their friends.

Hopefully Harry can join sometime soon as well.

It’s definitely possible, considering the fact that the Abbotts are hosting Harry. Michael couldn’t help but feel elated when he heard the news from Hannah just an hour ago. And perhaps a bit jealous as well.

Harry is interesting. Intriguing. And someone Michael definitely wants to get to know better. All of Michael’s closest confidants are interesting people.

Rolf Scamander, the Heir Apparent of the Noble Scamander House after both his parents tragically died from dragon pox when he was just a baby. Rolf is the perfect hufflepuff, hardworking and loyal to a fault. Yet, there’s clearly a secret he’s hiding. Between his constant meditations and his lessons from his grandfather … Rolf is keeping a secret, even from his own bondmate. Not that Michael would ever pressure his friend to reveal his secret.

Pansy Parkinson is an enigma. Raised in a Dark Alliance House, yet Pansy seems to care little about anything related to blood status. She instead seems to relish in the collecting of information and secrets. Michael isn’t sure what for, she doesn’t appear to be doing anything with the information she’s gathered. At least, not yet.

Cedric Diggory is the star of Hufflepuff, despite being only an upcoming third year. He is already one of the best seekers Hufflepuff has had in decades and is quite popular with the girls in his years and the surrounding ones. Even Susan and Hannah still blush around Cedric. Yet, Cedric only has acquaintances in his own house and year. His only real friend is Cho Chang, a ravenclaw one year younger than him. There are speculations that the pair are dating, but Michael knows better than that. It’s just so curious that Cedric doesn’t have more friends than he does.

Susan Bones is a quiet spoken girl, and everyone fully expects her to be sorted into Hufflepuff. Yet, she has more knowledge about wizarding politics than many graduating slytherins. She was raised to be as the Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones, and she takes her role quite seriously. Michael has no doubt that she will be a political powerhouse once she comes of age.

Anthony Goldstein, Rolf’s distant cousin through his grandmother, Tina Scamander nee Goldstein, is perhaps most intriguing for his ability to play both sides. One day he’ll be bonding with Charles Potter and Ron Weasley, and the next he’ll be seen in Diagon Alley with the likes of Sue Li, Terry Boot, and Lisa Turpin. Michael isn’t sure if Anthony really considers any of them friends, besides Rolf of course, but the boy does spend more time with Heir Apparent Turpin than anyone else besides his cousin.

Hannah Abbott is the perfect mixture between a gryffindor and a hufflepuff. She is fiercely brave, but only because of her intense loyalty. She is most famous amongst their friend group for punching Seamus Finnegan when the boy pulled on Susan’s ponytail at the girl’s birthday party. No one holds it against Hannah, she was only six at the time. But Seamus walked away with a broken nose and a fear for Hannah Abbott that many people still laugh at him for. And Hannah’s eyes still light up each time someone tells the story, even as she continues to explain how sorrowful she is for the incident.

Michael is intrigued by interesting people.

And Harry certainly qualifies.

Michael can barely keep his rage from boiling over as he reads the letter from his new friend.

Whatever happened yesterday, after Harry arrived at Potter Manor, must’ve been fairly horrible for Harry to refuse to talk about it over a letter. Michael will just have to hope he sees Harry in person soon.

Michael also can’t help but be impressed by how clever the letter is. It carefully pulls at Michael’s heartstrings and makes him want to run towards the boy and pull him in a tight hug and never let go. The letter is extremely effective, though Michael can’t tell if Harry did that intentionally or if it was almost instinctual.

Michael both hopes that it’s the latter and fears the possibility that is. Because if that kind of cunning comes naturally to Harry then …

Michael remembers years ago when Pansy first wrote to him, asking him for information about the political ongoings in MACUSA from someone who lived in the states. She tried to entice him by offering him a favor if he did so, and Michael accepted.

He still has the letter Pansy first penned to him as proof.

It looks like Michael may just have to call in that favor. If Harry really is that cunning, then he will need all the help he can get.

And Michael is willing to help his new friend however he can.

________________________________________

Jacob doesn’t receive his letter until several days later, along with additional letters from Serena Abbott and his eldest goddaughter, Daphne.

Jacob lets out a sigh of relief. “Harry is staying with the Abbotts for the summer,” he announces to his team.

David and Ivy cheer, and Bill and Anita both smile. They all know Serena from his stories about the custody battles. Ivy and David both particularly like the woman. Ivy because Serena is one of the most influential muggleborns in British wizarding society and David because she’s a hufflepuff.

“That’s great news,” Bill says, smiling at his team leader, as Jacob passes the letter from Harry around so everyone can be updated.

Jacob nods at his newest teammate, before quickly averting his eyes. Jacob definitely has to avoid staring at Bill for too long. Best to keep his blushing to a minimum, at least for as long as he can.

Two years of constant teasing would just be unbearable.

“His letter is very …” Anita starts to say before trailing off.

They all know what Anita is trying to say. Anita was the only former slytherin in the team of curse breakers.

“He could be sorted into ravenclaw,” Ivy says. “He’s certainly smart enough. And dedicated to his reading, since he managed to con James out of 50 books from the Potter family library.”

“Or even a hufflepuff,” David says. “He’s clearly loyal, even if he doesn’t have many things to be loyal too. I mean, he spent a paragraph just talking about how much he loves Hedwig, and he’s only had her for a few days.”

“He’s not a gryffindor though,” Bill says. “He’s much too smart for that.”

Everyone laughs at Bill’s self-deprecating joke, even Jacob, before the man’s face falters.

“He reminds me of mom,” Jacob says.

Everyone stops laughing. They all know about Dorea Potter nee Black. Perhaps the most unlikely addition to the House of Potter in centuries.

The only slytherin Potter ever, even if she only became a Potter after graduating from Hogwarts and through marriage.

“He’ll need support,” Anita says. “As much as we can give him.”

Jacob nods. “Yes, he will. Ivy, David, how is that spell coming along?”

________________________________________

Dear Marlene McKinnon,

I’m not actually completely sure how to start this letter. I’ve written several, but this is probably the one I’m the most nervous about.

My name is Harry Potter, and I’m your godson. And I really hope that you still consider me a part of your family.

I was hoping you would be willing to meet …

________________________________________

August 5th, 1991

Marlene’s letter is returned to Harry the next morning by an exhausted Hedwig before he leaves for Abbott manor.

It’s unopened.

“Did she not want it?” Harry asks Hedwig.

Hedwig shakes her head, chirping at him in annoyance. Harry frowns. He’s still learning how to communicate with his new owl.

“Could you … not find her?” Harry asks hesitantly, not wanting to provoke the proud bird.

Hedwig nods and flaps her wings at the letter, as if almost annoyed with it.

Harry frowns. How could Hedwig not find her?

________________________________________

Harry stumbles out of the floo the next morning, glad that he let Hedwig fly over rather than go with him. He stumbles for several feet, hitting his shin on his trunk and almost falling face first on the ground.

Only someone reaching out and catching him stops his fall. Harry drops his trunk, letting the arms support him and pull him into an upright stance.

“There you go kid, I’ve got you,” a man says as he helps Harry up. “You ok?”

Harry nods, staring at the people gathering in front of him.

The first thing he notices is just how incredibly blonde they all are. The mother and the daughter both have long, cascading blonde hair, while both the father and the son have dirty, short-cropped blonde hair.

The family is all fairly fit, with the father being quite built and the rest of the family being thin, but with noticeable muscles as well.

Harry admits to being intimidated by the good-looking family and finds himself struggling to get the words out.

“Pleasure to meet you Heir Potter,” the man says. “I am Lord Mitchell Abbott, and this is my wife Lady Serena Abbot. My daughter, Heiress Hannah Abbott, and my son, Heir Apparent Jeremy Abbott. It is our pleasure to host you this summer.”

Harry smiles at the family. “Pleasure to meet you as well. My name is Heir Harry Potter, and I thank you for hosting me for the remainder of the summer. Please, feel free to call me by my first name.”

The family all smiles at him, quickly giving him leave to call them by their first names as well. Harry exchanges polite conversation with the family before Mitchell has to leave for a meeting and Jeremy drifts off to practice on his training broom.

“Pixie,” Serena calls out.

A creature appears next to the woman, and Harry flinches back in shock.

Hannah giggles. “It’s a house-elf Harry. Harmless. Pixie here serves our family.”

Harry nods. “Thank you for explaining.”

Hannah smiles at Harry in acknowledgement.

“Pixie, will you please take Harry’s trunk to his room?”

“Yes mistress,” Pixie says, popping away with Harry’s trunk in tow.

Harry stares at where his trunk was just seconds ago in bewilderment.

Serena smiles at the boy. “Incredible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it really is.”

“Hannah, why don’t you go see if your friends are still good to join us this afternoon? I would like to talk to Harry for a few moments.”

Hannah nods, saying goodbye to Harry and leaving the room.

Serena leads Harry over into a nearby lounge, sitting them both down on a couch.

“I heard you had a busy night last night,” Serena says to the boy. “I received many letters, thanking me for hosting you this summer. You actually have a few responses waiting for you, though those can wait till later.”

Harry blushes. “I hope I wasn’t too forward; I just wanted the people who care about me or could come to care about me to know that I’m safe for the remainder of the summer.”

“I’m not upset with you Harry. I’m quite impressed actually.”

Harry looks up at Serena in surprise.

“Did you expect me to be angry with you for something so minor? So insignificant?”

Harry’s non-answer is enough of an answer for Serena.

Serena holds out her arms to Harry, and Harry stares at her hesitantly for a few seconds before moving closer, into her arms.

Serena wraps her arms around the boy, careful to not hold the boy too tightly so as not to scare him. Harry surprises her by leaning into the embrace.

“I won’t get mad at you like that Harry. Not for something so small. And if I ever do get mad at you, I promise to give you the chance to explain yourself and what happened, and to be fair and kind to you. Alright?”

Harry nods. “Thank you.”

“Of course. In a perfect world, I would have raised you Harry. I’m just glad that I finally get the chance to help you.”

“Why do you care so much?” Harry asks timidly.

“Because you deserve it,” Serena says. “And because I became attached to you when you were a baby. I actually have pictures of you and Hannah napping together when you were younger. I’m sure that you two would have grown up to be the best of friends if it weren’t for your parents’ idiotic choices.”

“Maybe we still can be friends?” Harry suggests.

Serena smiles down at the boy. “I hope so.”

“Thank you, for letting me stay here.”

“Of course Harry. Anything I can do to help,” she says, kissing the top of the boy’s head.

Harry doesn’t make any movement to get out of Serena’s arms, so Serena just continues to hold him close. Later, when Michael, Rolf, and Susan come over, she’ll let go of him. But right now, she doesn’t have to.

“Hey Serena, can I ask you a question?”

“Yes of course.”

“Is there any reason an owl wouldn’t be able to deliver a letter? Because I tried to send a letter to my godmother, Marlene McKinnon, but it came back unopened.”

Harry doesn’t miss the way Serena tenses at the news. He was afraid of that.

Chapter Text

August 5th, 1991

Hannah knocks on the door to Harry’s room.

She saw Harry enter just a few minutes ago, after spending about an hour with her mom.

Hannah is really glad that Harry is here just for that reason. Hannah’s mom is great, and she loves both her daughter and son equally and whole-heartedly. But sometimes, Hannah could see a pang of sadness cross her mother’s face.

Hannah asked her dad about it when she was about 9 years old. And that was the day Hannah learned about Harry.

Harry was loved by Serena. He wasn’t her own child, but in a way, Serena treated him like one. Most of Harry’s family was embroiled in the conflict during You-Know-Who’s Reign of Terror, and Serena Abbott often watched the children during those times.

Apparently Hannah and Harry were quite close as babies. So much so that Harry preferred to be by her side instead of his twin’s.

Dad said that mom’s biggest regret is losing Harry. Her biggest regret is not being able to do more for the child she cared for so much.

But now, against all odds, Harry is back.

Harry’s bedroom door opens, and the boy hesitantly smiles at her.

Hannah smiles back, trying to think about the fact that Harry is her size, and maybe a bit smaller. It wouldn’t be that concerning, except for the fact that Charles Potter is definitely taller and bigger than her.

“Can I come in?” Hannah asks.

Harry nods, opening the door and gesturing for her to come in.

Mom and dad insisted on putting him in one of the suites, so Hannah is able to lead him to the small collection of chairs in the room’s small seating area.

“I hope this isn’t all too overwhelming for you,” Hannah says.

Harry snorts. “Overwhelming? No, this is just another Tuesday for me. I’ve been through much much worse.”

Hannah almost laughs along with Harry, before the seriousness of the last half of his statement hits her.

“I’m sorry Harry, for everything you’ve been through.”

Harry flinches, looking down at the ground. “Thank you, but I’d prefer not to talk about any of that now if that’s ok with you.”

“Of course Harry.”

Harry just gives her a small but grateful smile. Before Hannah can say anything else, a beautiful snowy owl flies across the room and lands on Harry’s shoulder. Harry laughs, reaching up to stroke the bird’s head.

“You have an owl?” Hannah asks.

Harry nods. “Yeah, she was a gift from my … actually, I’m not sure what to call him exactly. He calls me his nephew, and that’s fine but it doesn’t feel quite right. I guess I could call him my cousin, but that doesn’t really fit either. I think, maybe he’s just Jacob. That sounds right. Hedwig here was a gift from my Jacob.”

Hedwig chirps in agreement, surprising Hannah. It’s almost like the owl is trying to communicate.

Harry laughs again. “Hedwig obviously agrees, and she’s smarter than me so I guess I’ll stick with calling him my Jacob. He’s really nice, and I’ll always be grateful for sending me this beautiful girl.”

Hedwig huffs and bites Harry’s ear.

Harry winces and laughs. “Smart and beautiful,” he corrects.

Hedwig preens, flying over to land on Hannah’s shoulder.

Hannah stares at the bird with amusement and confusion. Magical creatures are often more a bit brighter and sometimes even more communicative than their non-magical counterparts, but this owl is downright talkative, the way she interacts with Harry.

“She likes when you scratch the back of her head,” Harry says, and Hannah quickly moves to do so. Hedwig lets out a chirp of approval.

“She’s beautiful,” Hannah says in wonderment.

Hedwig chirps loudly.

Hannah smiles. “You’re welcome.”

Hedwig nods and hops off, flying over to Harry’s desk, and chirping loudly as she stands on top of a pile of letters and a package.

“Oh, it looks like people actually responded,” Harry says, standing up and walking over. “I know girl, I’m sorry that you weren’t the one to deliver them to me, but I can’t control that. And hey, I still got Emmeline's letter from you, even though I haven’t opened it yet.”

“You got letters?” Hannah asks, walking over to stand next to Harry. “Who did you write?”

“Just a few people,” Harry says. “Amelia Bones, the Tonks family, Augusta Longbottom, Emmeline Vance, Adrian Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, and Michael Thorne-Diggory, though it doesn’t look like all of them responded.”

Harry doesn’t bring up his godmother, thinking back on what Serena told him.

“I promise to look into it Harry, but for right now don’t tell anyone. At least, don’t tell anyone you don’t implicitly trust, ok? I’ll figure out what’s going on with Marlene.”

Harry likes Hannah, based on the short conversation he’s had with her so far, but he doesn’t fully trust anyone.

“Well, that makes sense,” Hannah says. “I don’t know Daphne or Tracey that well, but you are likely to only get a response from one of them. Those two are attached by the hip. And Michael probably didn't write back because he’s gonna be coming over in about an hour.”

Harry swivels his head to stare at Hannah. “What?”

Hannah smiles at him, biting back the little twinge in her stomach at Harry’s automatic reaction to just Michael’s name. “Didn't my mom tell you? A few of my friends coming over today. Michael, of course. He would not stop talking about you all day yesterday. And his best friend, Rolf Scamander. And Susan Bones, Amelia Bones’ niece.”

Harry smiles at the thought. “Oh, that’s good to hear. I really liked Michael when I met him. It’s nice to have a friend.”

Hannah resists the urge to wince, just smiling at Harry. “And you’ll have many more.”

“Thanks Hannah. Hey, could I ask you for a favor? I mostly wrote those letters last night with any real idea of what I was doing, but responses will probably require a bit more tact and knowledge than I have at the moment. Could you help me?”

“Really? I mean, it is private correspondence.”

“I know,” Harry says. “I’m going to read the letters first, but if I have questions, could you help me? We still have time before your friends arrive, right?”

“Of course Harry, I’d be happy too.”

The letters go somewhat smoothly. Amelia Bones’ is short and to the point, offering Harry Susan’s help and expertise as the Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones.

Hannah’s eyes widen when she reads that, and she whistles appreciatively. “Wow, she must like you. What did you write in that letter?”

“Just the truth,” Harry shrugs, which tells Hannah all she needs to know.

Amelia Bones is not easily impressed.

Harry continues to impress Hannah when the letter from Augusta includes a book from the private Longbottom library.

“Harry, this is incredible.”

“Really? it’s just a book,” Harry says, clearly not understanding the importance of the book he’s holding in his hands. Not that Hannah can blame him, his lack of knowledge is hardly his fault.

“Harry, this is from the private Longbottom library. I doubt anyone that’s not a Longbottom or an extremely trusted ally has ever even read the book, let alone have the book lent to them.”

“Oh, well that’s definitely going to require a thank you letter. Is it inappropriate to take notes while I read this book, since it’s so private?”

Hannah shakes her head. “It might be more inappropriate not to, since Augusta clearly intends for you to learn from the book. The best thing might actually be sharing some of those notes with her when you send the book back, so she knows you understand it.”

Harry nods, before opening the next letter.

Hannah is absolutely gob smacked when both Ted and Andromeda Tonks over to squeeze Harry into their incredibly busy schedules, especially since they both say they intend to do so free of charge!

“So, a lawyer and a therapist?” Harry asks. “And they are offering their services for free? That’s nice of them.

Hannah just stares at Harry.

“What, am I missing something?”

“Harry, both Ted and Andromeda Tonks are quite renowned in their fields. Their schedules are practically always bursting at the seams. For them to squeeze you in, at your own leisure, shows how much they care for you. For them to do it for free, well that’s incredible.”

“Oh. I’ll have to send them a thank you letter too.”

Of course, Adrian’s letter has to come and add to the insanity.

“Oh, that’s nice of him,” Harry says.

“Harry, Lord Greengrass just extended you the friendship of his entire house. That’s insane!”

“Well yeah, but that’s not a huge surprise. I mean, he offered that friendship on the day we met, so this is just him reiterating it. Or actually extending the friendship. I’m not completely sure.”

Hannah is starting to feel faint as Harry opens the next letter.

Heir Potter,

Wanna be friends?

Sincerely,

Heiress Tracey Davis, Ward of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass

Heir Apparent Daphne Greengrass

P.S. Daphne is incredibly annoyed with how informal this letter is, oh well ~ Tracey

Hannah can literally feel herself starting to lose her shit as Harry opens the last letter.

“Oh,” is Harry’s only indication that this letter is a bit different from the previous ones.

Dear Harry,

I’m so glad that you contacted me. I worked closely with your parents during the war, but for obvious reasons, we have had little contact with each other since their abhorrent treatment of you.

I feel the need to apologize to you. I’m so sorry Harry. I really wish I could’ve gotten you away from them. I may not have been the best candidate out of the list of applicants, but I would’ve taken care of you. I would’ve loved you.

I still do love you Harry.

You obviously won’t remember me, but you used to call, or babble, me Auntie Emme. You were always my favorite nephew.

And that’s what you are to me Harry. You are my nephew in every way but blood. In every way that matters.

Please ignore the tear stains on the parchment. They are of no matter.

I am so happy that you are in the wizarding world. And that you’re making friends.

I’m so proud of you Harry. So incredibly proud.

And I’m so glad you decided to reach out to me. Hell, I’m about to write Jacob a letter forgiving him for everything, just because he led you to me.

And of course I want to meet up. Sadly, I’m on a mission until midway through the month, but after that I will be free. So let’s say we meet up on the 19th. I will contact Serena Abbott to arrange everything.

I’m really happy you're safe Harry. And I want you to stay that way. Just stay safe until I get back.

I’m going to give you the biggest hug when I see you.

And don’t be afraid to write to me just because I’m on mission. I can still respond to letters, just not meet in person until the 19th.

Just remember Harry, you might not remember me, but your Aunt Emmaline is here for you. Whatever you need.

Sincerely,

Hit witch Emmaline Vance

Hannah stops to stare at Harry, as the boy wipes tears out of his eyes.

“Harry?”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles. “It’s just new. Not used to people caring. That was really nice of her.”

Hannah doesn’t hesitate, pulling Harry into a tight hug.

Harry, who is still sitting down, slots his head under Hannah’s chin and clings to her. It’s clear he’s unused to the contact, but he’s accepting it greedily.

Hannah just hugs him tighter in return.

________________________________________

Michael practically rushes through the floo as soon as noon hits.

There’s no one there to greet him, which isn’t unusual. He’s been to Abbott Manor enough times that he knows how to navigate it.

He can hear laughter from the main lounge and speeds off to it.

He can hear three voices, two male and one female. Hannah is easy to recognize and so is Jeremy Abbott, Hannah’s younger brother.

Harry’s laughter is less familiar, but once Michael recognizes it, a smile forms on his face.

“Harry?” Michael asks, as he bursts into the lounge.

“Michael?” Harry asks. “Why are you in such a rush?”

Michael pays Harry’s question no mind, rushing towards the boy. “I was so worried about you. That letter you sent last night … I’m grateful that you sent it, I was just so concerned about what happened at Potter Manor, and about you staying with your parents. Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

Harry stares at Michael with an incredulous look, before turning to Hannah. “You’ve known him for longer Hannah? Is he always like this?”

“Yes,” a new voice calls out, as a boy around Harry’s age walks into the lounge. “He most definitely has been.”

Harry turns to face the newcomer, and the boy smiles at Harry in return.

“Pleasure to meet you, Heir Potter. I am Rolf Scamander, Heir Apparent of the Noble House of Scamander.”

Harry stares at Rolf, taking in the boy. He is clearly bulky and has well-defined muscles, especially for their age. Hannah mentioned his family was notorious for animal handling and that Rolf has been working at his family’s reserve since he was only enough to walk, so Harry supposes that makes sense. The boy’s reddish-brown hair is close-cropped, and he appears to have an almost semi-permanent smile on his face.

“Pleasure to meet you as well Heir Apparent Scamander. Please, call me by my first name.”

Rolf nods. “Of course Harry, please do the same for me.”

“Of course.”

Michael and Hannah both watch Harry with wide eyes. Harry is apparently quick to adjust to some of the customs of the wizarding world. Quicker than they would have thought, despite what they know about the boy.

“Ok, but back to what’s important, are you ok Harry? I don’t mean to pry, but you mentioned something bad happening in your letter.”

Harry’s face falters for a second before he recovers. “There was an … accident. But I’m fine now, thanks to the assistance from Heiress Weasley,” Harry cryptically answers.

Hannah and Rolf both nod, accepting that Harry won’t tell them more for now. Michael frowns, wanting to know what happened, but he remains silent.

“Ok Harry. I’m just glad that you are safe.”

“Thanks Michael,” Harry smiles. “It’s nice to have someone who cares.”

Before anyone can comment on Harry’s statement, Susan walks in, and Harry and Susan have to go through all of the standard introductions this time.

“I will be sending your aunt a thank you letter of course, but could you pass my gratitude along to her as well?” Harry asks Susan.

Susan nods. “Of course, but she’ll actually be picking me up tomorrow, so you’ll be able to thank her in person yourself. I was actually wondering what days you might be free, so we can work on setting up a lesson plan for you.”

“Oh, I’m not completely sure. With the move and adjusting to staying at with the Abbotts, I’m not sure what days work best. Maybe we can play it by ear?”

Susan giggles. “Sure Harry, that works.”

“What are they talking about?” Michael asks Rolf and Hannah.

Rolf shrugs, but thankfully Hannah has an answer for the two. “Amelia Bones asked for Susan to tutor Harry about how to be an Heir to a Most Ancient and Noble House.”

Rolf whistles. “Impressive.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hannah mumbles, confusing both of the boys.

Jeremy, not one to be left out and quickly getting bored of all of his sister’s friends acting like grown-ups when they came over to play, has decided to make himself heard.

“Let’s go flying!”

Everyone laughs at Jeremy’s excitability, all quickly agreeing.

At least, until they notice Harry’s face.

Harry has frozen in place and is deathly pale. He’s looking straight at the ground, eyes wide and his breathing starting to get labored.

Michael rushes to Harry’s side, wrapping an arm around the smaller boy’s waist and leading him to the nearest couch. Everyone else follows, with Hannah sitting on Harry’s other side and Susan, Rolf, and Jeremy taking a couch across from the trio.

“Harry? Harry, are you ok?”

“Pixie, Dixie,” Hannah calls out, and the two house elves appear immediately. “Get mom or dad. Quickly.”

“No,” Harry protests, even as the two house-elves disappear. “I’m fine, I’m just panicking. It’s stupid. I’ll get over.”

The others don’t believe him. Hannah grabs Harry’s hand, and Michael pulls him closer.

“Harry, it’s ok,” Michael says. “Whatever happened, it’s not happening anymore.”

Harry gulps and nods, even as tears start to stream down his face.

Before anyone else can say anything else, the floo flares to life from the next room over, and Mitchell Abbott comes rushing into the lounge.

“Kids, what’s wron-” Mitchell starts to say, before he sees how shaken and pale Harry looks. “Is he injured?”

Rolf shakes his head. “No, but he’s terrified of something.”

“He started to panic when Jeremy mentioned flying,” Susan notes.

Just the mention of flying is enough for Harry to flinch again, and Michael wraps his arm around Harry impossibly tighter.

Mitchell nods, walking over to Harry and crouching in front of him. “Harry? Are you hurt?”

Harry shakes his head profusely, closing his eyes to try to stop from crying. “No,” Harry says shakily. “I’m fine … I’m just …”

“Shh,” Mitchell says, wiping some of the tears from Harry’s face. “It’s ok Harry. It’s ok. None of us are going to judge you for how you feel. Something traumatizing obviously happened to you, and you are allowed to feel however you want or need to feel. Ok?”

Harry nods, keeping his eyes tightly closed.

They can hear Serena rushing towards the lounge before they see her. She bursts into the lounge, quickly evaluating the scene in front of her.

Hannah moves so her mom can take her place, and Michael hesitantly unwraps his arm from Harry and moves to Mitchell can take his place.

Harry is quickly engulfed by the two elder Abbotts, as they hug Harry close. Harry leans into Serena, burying his face in her neck. Serena just cards her finger through his hair, trying to calm the boy.

“I don’t like flying,” Harry finally says after a few minutes. “Two days ago, when I first got to Potter Manor, I went flying, but the Potters didn't have training brooms.”

Immediately, everyone is already on edge as Harry begins to tell his story.

“Were there any adults there?” Mitchell asks.

Harry shakes his head.

Mitchel bites back the urge to curse. Leaving Harry to learn how to fly on a none training broom is bad enough, but to do so without any adult supervision is so much worse. What were they thinking?

“Ginny was trying to help me, teach me, but I got scared being so high up. So she offered to help me down, but before she could, Charles flew really close to me and I almost fell.”

The mutinous looks on Rolf’s, Hannah’s, and Susan’s faces are enough to show just how unpopular Charles Potter is with this particular crowd.

“And then I guess I offended him and Ron with my bad flying, because they kept making fun of me. Which usually I wouldn’t care about, except for I was fifty feet in the air and I really really wanted to get down. And they kept on calling me pathetic for not knowing how to fly and Charles bumped my broom a few times.”

Michael actually growls at the news, and Serena and Mitchell both scoot closer to comfort Harry.

“And he said something about our family and how I don’t deserve the family name and I said I didn't care about that, because I just wanted down. Then he kicked my broom. And I fell off.”

Susan gasps, and Rolf clenches his fists tightly at the news. Jeremy looks terrified, and Hannah has joined Michael in his growling.

“Thankfully I was above a pond, but I think I might’ve … I hit the bottom. And the water started to fill my lungs. I think I drowned, but then Ginny pulled me out and I guess they did something to get the water out of my lungs.”

Serena pales at the story, kissing the top of Harry’s head to comfort both the boy and herself.

“Merlin’s balls,” Jeremy curses, and no one admonishes the boy as Harry finishes his story.

“Percy and Ginny helped warm me up, and things only really got worse from there. Apparently James and Lily tried to disown me too, but it thankfully failed.”

Serena actually growls along with Hannah and Michael at the news, and Susan makes a sound of disgust. Rolf digs his nails into his hands as he continues to clench his fists to keep himself calm.

“Those bastards,” Mitchell curses.

“I’m so so sorry Harry,” Serena says. “For what they did to you. God, what they tried to do to you is unthinkable.”

“And they claim to be a light family,” Rolf scoffs.

It takes several minutes for Harry to calm down enough for him to lift his head away from Serena’s shoulder and look up at everyone else.

“I’m so-”

“Don’t you dare apologize Harry,” Michael interrupts. “You do not have to be sorry for them. They are the only ones who should be sorry.”

Harry looks shocked at first, but then nods, smiling weakly at Michael. “So could we maybe do something besides flying?”

“Of course Harry. Of course,” Hannah says.

________________________________________

“Astoria got her letter from Ginny,” Tracey says, waving the parchment in front of Daphne’s face.

“Good. Have you read it yet?” Daphne asks

“Without you? Don’t be daft,” Tracey says, flopping down on Daphne’s bed. “Want me to read it?”

Daphne hums in approval, so Tracey starts reading.

Tracey makes it about a third of the way down the parchment, before Daphne stands up and pulls the parchment away from Tracey, taking over reading for the distraught girl.

She lets Tracey hold her hand, offering her friend the contact she needs as Daphne continues to read the letter.

Even Daphne can feel the tinges of anger and sadness start to compound her as she reads aloud.

Daphne sets the letter down, away from both her and Tracey, once she finishes reading.

“I hate them,” Tracey declares. “I hate them. I hate them! I hate what they are doing to him.”

Daphne stares at her friend sadly. “I’m sorry Tracey.”

“Don’t be sorry for me. Be sorry for him. For Harry. For the boy they continue to abuse and treat like a rag doll, if they acknowledge him at all. He spent probably an hour at Potter Manor before he almost died. Correction, before Charles Potter almost killed him! What the fuck is wrong with them? Why are they like this? Why are they treating him like this?”

Tracey has tears pouring down her face and she can feel the pang of phantom pain shooting up her side.

“I don’t understand how people can treat their family like that,” Tracey sobs. “I don’t understand Daphne!”

Daphne pulls her friend and bondmate in for a rare hug, trying to comfort the girl.

“I don’t understand Daphne. Why do people like that exist? People with such hate in their hearts. Harry doesn’t deserve that.”

“No he doesn’t,” Daphne agrees. “Neither did you.”

Tracey flinches, prompting Daphne to hug her friend tighter.

“Neither of you two did. And I’ll make sure they pay for what they did to the two of you. I promise.”

Tracey nods, fully believing her friend. She knows it won’t happen tomorrow, or even within the next year, but Daphne Greengrass doesn’t make promises she can’t keep.

The last promise Daphne made to Tracey was almost three years ago, when Tracey sent a desperate letter to her best friend while her father tortured her mother. Daphne sent back a short missive, promising that she would get Tracey out of that house.

Tracey thought Daphne was promising the impossible, and maybe she was, but she still kept her promise.

Tracey will never fully understand her friend. She’ll never fully understand her friend’s cold and analytical thought process. She’ll never understand the way Daphne thinks, treating the world like a very complicated game of chess, and trying to stay ahead of her opponents.

Tracey will never understand Daphne, but she loves her friend. And more importantly, Tracey trusts Daphne. Completely.

Daphne always takes care of the people she deems worthy. Tracey can trust in that.

“Thank you,” Tracey whispers to her friend.

“Of course.”

________________________________________

Life in the Burrow is always interesting, especially for the only Weasley daughter.

Ginny has learned how to live with the chaos. With Ron running around, constantly trying to cure his boredom. With Mom running a million different magical items at any given time, trying to keep the messy house clean to little avail. With George and Fred causing mischief and pranking their family members indiscriminately and without care for consequences. With Dad running away to his shed to tinker with muggle items.

Even Charlie and Bill were chaotic when they lived in the burrow. Bill wanted to be cursebreaker his entire life and could often be found breaking and relayering magical enchantments on different items around the house. Charlie, meanwhile, always had dragons on his mind. Or Quidditch. Or both. At the same time. Somehow.

Ginny can’t imagine how that would work.

Even Ginny added to the chaos, giving everyone as good as she got. If Ron made fun of her, she teased him relentlessly until he was red in the face and deeply offended. If the twins pranked her, then she left garden gnomes in their bed and destroyed their upcoming pranks with such careful planning that they had no choice but to start from scratch.

Correction, Ginny always gave everyone more than she got. Doubly or triply so. She had to, she was the youngest and the only daughter in the family. She not only had to compete with six older brothers but against her mom’s borderline archaic thoughts on how proper girls and ladies should act despite the fact that they live in a house with a freaking ghoul in the attic because they can’t afford to get rid of it.

To make a long story short, her family is bloody mental.

The only real spot of peace in the entire burrow is Percy’s room.

Percy is definitely the only Weasley that could be considered “calm”. He puts up with Ron’s whining and the twin’s pranks. He helps mom and dad. And then he returns to his room.

The room is just quieter than the rest of the house. Not completely, but all the sounds are muted, and Ginny feels like she can relax.

The twins tried to destroy the peace in this room one time by “pranking” their older brother. That was one of the two times Ginny has seen Percy’s more vindictive and angry side. This time, George and Fred burned all of the letters Percy had been exchanging with his crush, Penny Clearwater, and terrorized Hermes, Percy’s Owl. They actually tried charming Hermes so the bird would be unable to deliver letters to Penny, which drove the poor bird to madness. Hermes has never been quite the same, screeching randomly until Percy manages to calm him down

Percy held Fred off of his balcony, twenty feet in the air, while George watched helplessly, hogtied by ropes that Percy conjured out of thin air. He left both the twins crying and begging for forgiveness before he threw them out of his room and forbade them to enter again.

Percy was grounded for the entirety of that summer and part of the next, while George and Fred went off scot-free since it was “just a prank”.

Mom really does excuse their behavior entirely too often. Sure, she admonishes them, but she rarely actually punishes them.

The only other time Ginny has seen Percy that angry is when Ron and Ginny were arguing, and Ron threw a book at his sister, giving Ginny a black eye.

Percy had been apocalyptic, grabbing Hermes, and flooing to Woods Manor and seeking sanctuary from Percy’s friend and roommate Oliver’s parents. Ginny and Percy stayed at Woods Manor for two weeks before dad finally managed to get Ron to apologize and put the boy on sole de-gnoming duty for the summer.

Ever since then, Percy’s room was not only his sanctuary from the craziness of the Burrow, but hers too.

Which is why it wasn’t surprising when Ginny opened the door to Percy’s room, locking it behind her.

“Any word from Bill yet?”

Percy nods, not looking up from the book he’s reading. “Came about ten minutes ago. Figured I should wait for you, since it’s addressed to both of us.”

Ginny quickly sits down next to Percy, prompting him to open the letter.

Dear Percy and Ginny,

Thank you for writing to me, and for telling me what happened. It was rough for Jacob to hear, but he definitely needed to be informed.

Ginny, I am so sorry for what you had to go through. Rest assured, when I get home, I am giving all three of our brothers an earful. Their behavior was disgusting and unbecoming of the Weasleys. We welcome everyone, not just those we deem worthy, or else we are no better than the Malfoys.

But also, I am so proud of you Ginny. I know you probably feel guilty about what happened to Harry, but I can assure you that you did the best you could. You handled everything remarkably and probably saved Harry’s life. Both Jacob and I couldn’t be more grateful to you if we tried.

And Percy, thank you for looking after both Ginny and Harry. And for informing Harry more. It’s not easy to stand up to mom and dad, nor the Potters, but I am glad you did. I am proud of you too little brother. Don’t forget that.

I hope both of your summers are going well. Ginny, I know it’s going to be weird during the school year, with just you and mom, but look at the bright side. Without Ron there, maybe you’ll actually get the chance to have second servings.

And Percy, I am so proud of you for making prefect. I know that you are the perfect one for the role and that you’ll be Head Boy in no time. I hope you are enjoying dating young miss Penny, but don’t forget about your friends. When you first started talking with Penny, you neglected that friendship, and I don’t want you to make that mistake again. He’s one of the friends you want to keep. Trust me.

I love you both. I know I’m going to be gone for a long time because of this mission, but I promise I will still write to you two. Stay safe and enjoy yourselves.

Sincerely,
Bill Weasley

“How do you think Jacob took it?” Ginny asks Percy.

“From what we’ve heard about him from Bill, he probably blew something up,” Percy guesses.

Ginny nods. That’s probably a fair assessment.

“Do you think he transfigured a rock to look like James’ face and then blew it up? Is that possible? Can we do that?”

“Ginny,” Percy sighs. “Keep the murderous thoughts inside your head. That way I have plausible deniability.”

“So, you don’t want to help me after what they did to Harry?”

Percy’s non-answer and slightly contemplative look are answer enough for Ginny.

________________________________________

Despite the initial blunder, Harry actually manages to spend an enjoyable afternoon with his new friends.

Susan is easily the most studious of the group, answering many of Harry’s questions about the wizarding world and nobility with long answers that bore the others to tears but fascinate Harry.

“So you see, the giving of permissions to use someone’s first name is a sign of respect. Using someone’s first name without permission is basically announcing to the world that you see yourself at an unequivocally higher standing. So much higher, that the other person could never hope to equal you, so you see no problem with disrespecting them.”

Except, Rolf most definitely has Susan beat when it comes to magical creatures. Harry asked a question about Pixie when the elf delivered lunch to the group, and Rolf launched into an almost half hour explanation.

“I’m sorry,” Rolf says, blushing. Which is a hilarious sight to Harry, watching the giant, muscled boy that towers over him blush after babbling about magical creatures for an extended period of time.

“Don’t,” Harry says. “It was a fascinating speech. Thank you for informing me.”

Rolf nods, smiling at Harry.

Hannah is easily the most adventurous of the group, constantly trying to get them to try new things.

“Michael, why won’t you just drink the tea?”

“I don’t like chamomile tea Hannah. We’ve discussed this.”

“Have you ever tried it? And if you say yes, but when you were a little kid, then I will whack you upside the head.”

Michael does indeed get whacked upside the head, cracking everyone up.

Michael, meanwhile, is a jack of all trades. He’s definitely learned, but not as in-depth and thorough about it as Susan or Rolf are. And he’s definitely adventurous as well, trying many of Hannah’s weird food combinations. But as far as Harry can tell, Michael is more deferring to his friends and doing what they like, rather than choosing for himself.

“So, what next?” Hannah asks, after finally swearing off trying new and unique food combinations after dipping a watercress sandwich in pumpkin juice and then in tea.

“We could go to the library?” Susan suggests.

“Or we could go exploring the woods behind your house Hannah?” Rolf offers up. “Didn't you say that there was a family of wild kneazles back there?”

“Or we could play exploding snap and not be boring?” Hannah suggests.

“What do you want to do Michael?” Harry asks, turning to the boy next to him.

Michael looks a bit surprised that Harry even asked him, before he starts to think of an answer.

“Maybe we could just relax for a bit?” Michael proposes. “I mean, we’re going to be staying the night so it’s not like we’re going to run out of time soon. And honestly, I didn't sleep all that well last night. Maybe we could just take a nap?”

Surprisingly, that seems to appeal to the group, though everyone promises that they’ll do all of the other activities suggested later in the day.

And that’s how a group of teenagers end up fast asleep, spread out throughout in the Abbott Manor lounge.

No one questions when Michael drifts off close to Harry, almost within reaching distance of the boy.

Hannah does, however, turn away from the scene and face the other direction as she falls asleep, fighting against the feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach.

________________________________________

Serena Abbott paces around her room, as Mitchel tries in vain to get her to sit down.

“Sweetheart-”

“Please don’t,” Serena says. “That won’t help me right now. Just please Mitchell.”

Mitchell nods in understanding.

“I just … I can’t deal with all of this Mitchell. What Lily and James did to that boy. The fact that Marlene is missing.”

“Is she really missing?”

“Well, Harry’s owl couldn’t find her, and my patronus won’t go to her when I try to send her a message, so either she’s under the most secure wards imaginable or …”

“Or what Serena? She can’t be dead. People still have bonds with her. Emmeline and Jacob. They would have noticed and told you.”

“I know that. I know she’s still alive, but that’s almost worse Mitchell. Because I don’t know how this is even possible. I know there are wards that keep owls from being able to deliver mail, but a patronus message? I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Neither have I.”

“I just, I don’t know what to do Mitchell. I don’t know how to help Harry. He’s barely been in our lives for a day and I already feel like I’m failing him all over again.”

Mitchell wraps his wife in a tight embrace, hugging her close as tears start to sting her eyes. “You are doing the best you can Serena. You are doing everything you can for Harry. And he knows that. He sees that.”

“I just wish I could do more Mitchell. I know he’s not mine but-”

“Shhh, it’s ok Serena. I know. But he’s back now and we’ll protect him. We’ll take care of him. I promise.”

Serena nods, burying her face in her husband’s neck.

“We need help,” Serena says. “We need more people if we want to really protect and help Harry. A lot more.”

“I know. And we’ll find them. Or more likely, that boy will find them for us.”

Serena lets out a laugh. “Yeah, he probably will.”

Chapter Text

August 6th, 1991

Lady Abbott,

I am not sure if you are aware, but my family and I became well-acquainted with young Heir Potter when he visited Diagon Alley on the third. Especially my eldest daughter, Heir Apparent Daphne Greengrass, and my ward, Heiress Tracey Davis. I was hoping you might consider arranging for Harry to visit Greengrass Manor, or letting my girls come visit Harry at your manor in the near future. They became fast friends, and I hope to encourage that friendship before they all reach Hogwarts next month. Please write back when you have an answer and thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Lord Adrian Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass

________________________________________

Lord Greengrass,

I was aware of your acquaintance with young Heir Potter. If you would be willing to host my entire family, along with Harry, we are free on the afternoon of Saturday the 8th. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Lady Serena Abbott of the Noble House of Abbott

________________________________________

Susan knew that Harry would need a crash course on Wizarding Nobility before the Scamanders and Diggorys came by later today to pick up Rolf and Michael. And Harry would definitely need it before Aunt Ami came to pick her up.

And after Susan learned about friendship Lord Greengrass extended to Harry, it became her priority. She completely refused to do anything else until she had at least 2 hours with Harry that morning after breakfast, and the others quickly followed along, not wanting to be left out.

Hannah and Rolf are only half listening to the conversation, already deep into different books from the library. They are both of Noble Houses, so they learned this information years ago.

Susan was expecting Michael to do the same, and he does appear to have at least the basic required knowledge that is required from being the ward and stepchild of an Ancient and Noble House. But still, he sits next to Harry, watching the boy as much as he listens to Susan.

Hannah occasionally looks up at the two with a thoughtful look on her face, but thankfully, Rolf always distracts Hannah before she can think too much about it.

“Ok, let me see if I have this right,” Harry says. “There are seven different classifications of Noble houses in the wizarding world-”

“Seven classifications of Nobility, not Noble houses, but yes,” Susan interrupts. “Noble Houses are one of the seven classifications, not an overall umbrella term.”

Harry nods, before pressing on. “Ok, so there are the two lowest, Aged and Minor Noble Houses. Aged can trace their lineage back ten generations, and Minor Noble houses have done great acts in the past. Right?”

“Yes. Those two classifications don’t actually hold any voting power on Wizengamot, the voting body of the British Wizarding World, but they do have power since they are often voted onto the fifteen elected seats. But we’ll come back to that. What are the next two classifications?”

“The Noble Houses and the Ancient Houses. Noble Houses have done a great and noble deed, and Ancient Houses can trace their lineage back 25 generations. They each get 6 votes on Wizengamot.”

“Correct. Both the Abbotts and the Scamanders are Noble Houses, while the Davis house is an example of an Ancient House. There are a total of 21 Ancient Families, and 11 Noble families.”

“What great and noble deed did your families do?” Harry asks Hannah and Rolf.

“Grandad was instrumental to Grindelwald's downfall. He was a dark wizard who helped cause what muggles call World War two.”

Harry stares at Rolf in shock. “That was a wizarding war?”

“Partially,” Michael answers. “Most muggle wars are at least partially wizarding wars as well. The American Revolution for example. That was caused when a large number of Minor Noble Houses and Aged Houses were tired of not having any power, so they started their own government in America. The Articles of Confederation actually had a wizarding counterpart. Though eventually that fell apart, leading to both the signing of the constitution and the creation of MACUSA.”

“My great-great and a few more greats-grandad actually helped call a ceasefire during one of the Goblin Rebellions,” Hannah says, answering the original question.

Harry nods, before turning back to Susan. “After that, you have the Ancient and Noble Houses. Those are Houses that qualify for both of the last two classifications. They get 12 votes.”

“Yep,” Michael answers for Susan. There are 11 families in this classification, including my own.”

Michael seems a bit perturbed as he says that, but Harry decides to leave it alone.

“And the last two?” Susan asks. “You’ll need to know the families for these ones as well. Or at least the first one.”

Harry nods. “Well, the first one is easy. The Most Ancient and Noble houses. These are Noble Houses that can also trace their lineage back 50 generations. They get 18 votes. They include the Potters, Bones, Longbottoms, Greengrasses, Ollivanders, Blacks, and … I can’t remember.”

“Notts,” Rolf Scamander. “Interestingly enough, 5 out of 7 of those houses have their Heir Apparents in our upcoming year.”

“Yeah, why is that?” Michael asks. “Because we also have Heirs, Heiresses, and Heir Apparents for several other houses in our year.”

Hannah looks intrigued by the question, leaning in to join the conversation.

“Well, that’s not that rare,” Susan says. “It’s a bit more concentrated in our year than usual, but it’s common for families of Nobility to all attempt to have children in the same year so they can socialize while at Hogwarts. It’s done to increase marriages between the families as well as alliances.”

Harry and Hannah both look a bit disturbed by the notion, and even Michael looks a bit green at the idea of marriage.

Susan and Rolf, however, are well acquainted with the idea. As they are both the sole heirs of their families, marriage and line continuation has been on their minds for years now.

Thankfully, none of their three friends push the issue, rather wanting to just push past it.

“So, did we talk about another classification?” Harry asks. “I remember you mentioned that there are seven, but I don’t remember the last one.”

“The Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses,” Susan says. “I probably didn't mention it because all of the lines are, currently at least, extinct and defunct.”

Harry blinks. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“The Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses are those that helped found either the Ministry of Magic or Hogwarts,” Rolf answers for Susan. “The three families who founded the Ministry are the Pendragons, the Emrys, and the Peverells. The founders of Hogwarts were the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and Slytherins. The seats have 24 votes a piece in Wizengamot, but none of them are occupied since there’s no one to hold the seats.”

“So, these families are all gone?” Harry asks, a bit in shock. “But I thought you said that barely ever happened.”

“It’s rare, but it does happen,” Susan says. “But not in the cases of these houses. The Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses are different.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one, only one person has held the Lordship for the Pendragon and Emrys families, and they never will again,” Hannah says. “Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys fell in love, refused to blood adopt any heirs, and the family lordships died with them.”

“Wait, are you talking about King Arthur? And Merlin? And they got married? That’s allowed?”

“The wizarding world isn’t as … stringent as the muggle one,” Rolf answers. “At least not in Britain. I think it’s different in newer wizarding countries, like America.”

Michael nods. “It’s very strict in America, but that’s beside the point. Here, homosexual marriages are allowed, though they aren’t as common. Occasionally, even polyamorous or marriages between wizards and more intelligent creatures, such as Veela, though those are much rarer.”

Harry stares at all four of his friends, wondering if they are pulling his leg. Hannah reaches over, gently pushing Harry’s jaw back up. Harry glares at her, and everyone bursts into laughter.

“Give me a break! This is all new to me,” Harry whines.

“We know,” Susan says, still giggling. “And you are doing quite well. It’s just … your face was really funny.”

No one seems to refute that, taking several minutes for the laughter to finally trail off into only small giggles and chuckles.

“Let’s just move on,” Harry says. “What about the other five families?”

“The founder families are different,” Susan starts to explain. “For one, the Lord and Lady of each house have to have been sorted into that particular Hogwarts house. For example, the Ravenclaw Lord must have been sorted into Ravenclaw when they attended Hogwarts.”

“Why is that?” Harry asks. “I thought all of the houses were based solely on lineage.”

“They are, except for the Most Ancient and Most Noble houses. They have different rules. Furthermore, these four founder houses have little to do with bloodlines and more to do with how much a person aligns with the particular virtues of each house.”

“That’s not completely true,” Hannah disagrees. “The person must still be descended from each house.”

“Yes, but almost everyone is related to those houses now,” Rolf adds. “I know I’m related to the Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff houses, and most people are related to all four. You even have direct descendants, such as the Smith family, who lost the right to Hufflepuff lordship when the family switched to Dark Alliance in the early 1400s.”

“So, are these houses dead?” Harry asks. “Or can they come back?”

“No one really knows,” Michael answers. “Some people suspect they can, but no one knows for sure.”

“There are two popular theories for how these houses can come back,” Susan says. “And a bunch of smaller ones. Some people say that the House relics will eventually choose a new Lord or Lady for their respective houses, but no one has seen any of the relics for decades or even centuries in some cases. The other theory is based around the Lordship armors-”

“Which are a myth,” Rolf interrupts. “No one ever even saw these Lordship armors.”

“They are definitely real,” Hannah disagrees. “The founders just kept them secret.”

“Wait, what are the lordship armors?” Michael asks, just as confused Harry.

Susan sighs, not pleased with how off-topic this is getting, but she’s at least glad that Harry is intrigued by the lesson. “Supposedly, before the deaths of the founders, they collaborated and created the Lordship armors, as well as the Vassal armors. The Lordship armors could only be worn by the Lord of the House and could choose a new Lord if the line ever became extinct. Though, remember, back then Lord was a gender neutral phrase, so anyone could inherit the Lordship as long as they are selected. The Vassal armors are a set of three armors per house that the Lord could choose to give to members of their house, though no one knows if this means family members or members of the actual Hogwarts house. The armors are only rumored to exist, since no one has actually ever seen them. Every few years, someone claims to have found one and tries to gain control of one of the houses. Usually, Hogwarts or the Wizengamot chambers kills them when they try to enter wearing the false armor.”

Michael and Harry both stare at Susan in shock.

“Don’t worry, they are just a myth,” Rolf says.

“They are not!” Hannah calls out.

“Children,” Susan admonishes. “I still have another seat to get through, and then I have to go back and explain the elected seats. So zip it.”

Rolf and Hannah both grumble and shut up.

“Somehow, the Peverell line is even more complex,” Susan explains. “The family seat has been vacated for centuries, and since then, a new rule for lordship has been added. See, a long time ago, it is claimed that the Peverell family included a line of three brothers centuries ago and these brothers each held a magical item, called a Deathly Hallow. No one actually knows what these items are anymore, just that they are incredibly powerful magical weapons and tools that corrupted at least the elder two brothers until they lost their lives. The Deathly Hallows can only be used by a descendent of the brother that used to own the item. Today, most people in the British wizarding world are descended from the Peverell line, though many don’t know which brother, let alone if they are from all three or not. But the new rule for lordship of the Peverell House states that the witch or wizard must be in command of all three Deathly Hallows, which means that they must not only be descended from all three of the brothers’ lines, but they must also find and wield all three of the items that some people claim don’t even exist anymore.”

“So … it’s impossible,” Harry answers.

“Probably,” Susan answers. “It’s at least incredibly unlikely. Now, moving onto elected seats. Like I said before, they tend to be held mostly by those Aged and Minor Noble families. They get elected every two years, with the next election being held next summer. Occasionally, you’ll get a muggleborn there because the light managed to find one that was palatable for the Grey Alliance to vote for.”

“Like mom,” Hannah interrupts. “She held a seat for two terms, before grandpa died and dad took over as Lord Abbott. Lord and Ladies of Nobility that already hold seats can’t hold elected seats too, so mom had to vacate.”

“Yes, like that. Thank you Hannah. Now, elected seats tend to be split relatively down the middle between the Light and the Dark, with a seat or two possibly falling into the Grey Alliance at any given time. Each elected seat has three votes.”

Harry nods. “Ok, but what is all this about alliances? I know the basics of what they stand for, though Grey is more confusing.”

“Now that’s where this gets really complicated,” Rolf interjects. “Especially when you get to the Grey Alliance.”

“Actually, the Grey Alliance is probably the simplest to understand, at least to me,” Susan says. “They are just the middle ground, and they are practically required to pass any law or really to decide any vote. The Light and the Dark Alliances are basically opposites, as I’m sure you can figure out. They are almost equal in strength in both the Nobility and Elected seats, with the Light having a larger percentage of Most Ancient and Noble, and Noble Houses, and an almost equal standing in the Ancient and Noble Houses. Consequently, the Dark alliance greatly outpaces the Light in the Ancient Houses. But overall, I believe there is only a 6 vote difference.”

“In whose favor?” Michael asks, now fully engaged in the lesson, alongside Harry. Even Hannah and Rolf have set down their books and joined the lesson, both understanding that Susan has a much deeper understanding of the political atmosphere than Harry.

Susan sighs. “That’s very complicated. According to the official numbers of the houses that have aligned Light, Grey, and Dark, the Light surpasses the dark by six votes. However, the McKinnon seat, an Ancient and Noble seat, has been empty for almost ten years now and with no proxy, so the seat is non-voting, even though it isn’t extinct.”

Harry fights to keep his composure when Susan brings up the McKinnon seat.

“Why is that?” Hannah asks. “I mean, if no one is voting for the seat, how is the family still even around.”

“Most of them aren’t,” Susan says. “According to Gringotts’ records, Marlene McKinnon is the only member of the family left. The family took a hard blow about three decades ago, due to a wave dragon pox sweeping over a family. Then most of the rest were killed during the Reign of Terror. Marlene disappeared about three years after the Reign of Terror, without a trace, and she didn't leave behind a proxy to vote for her. She’s still alive, or else the seat would disappear. The seats only remain behind after the line goes extinct for someone to inherit them if they reach the Most Ancient and Noble rank. But besides that, she’s basically disappeared.”

Harry lets out a small mewling sound before biting his bottom lip.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Michael reacts almost immediately, bolting out of his chair to check on Harry. Hannah rushes over as well, hovering over the boy.

Susan stares at the boy for a second, before a wave of realization hits her, followed by a second, much strong wave of guilt.

“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry,” Susan cries. “I didn't-”

Harry shakes his head profusely. “It’s not your fault Susan.”

“But Harry, she’s your godmother. She’s-”

“No one,” Harry lies. “She’s no one.”

Harry debates, for about half a second, on whether he should tell them the truth. That he did reach out to Marlene, but nothing happened. That he was so worried for his godmother that he confided in Serena, and that Serena was just as concerned as he was.

But Serena’s words are ringing in his ears.

“I promise to look into it Harry, but for right now don’t tell anyone. At least, don’t tell anyone you don’t implicitly trust, ok? I’ll figure out what’s going on with Marlene.”

Harry loves his new friends. He really does.

But does he trust them? No. Not completely.

Harry doesn’t trust anyone that much.

“She’s not important,” Harry lies. “Just, let’s move on.”

Hannah and Michael take a bit of prodding, but eventually they both sit down, and Susan continues her lesson.

But everyone knows it’s more sedated now. Harry is half trapped in his own thoughts, even as he continues to take notes on what Susan says. Michael is staring at Harry, and Hannah is staring at both of them. Rolf is staring at all three of friends with worry in his eyes.

________________________________________

It’s after lunch when Susan, Michael, and Rolf are all waiting for their parents and/or guardians to pick them up.

Usually only the Newt and Tina Scamander would show up in person to pick up Rolf and chat with Abbotts. Amelia Bones would occasionally if she had the time, but the woman is both the Head of the DMLE and Regent of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones, so she rarely has the time.

Michael leaves with the Scamanders as often as he floos back to Diggory Manor by himself. Occasionally, Cedric will come to pick up his stepbrother and spend a few hours with the Abbotts before they both leave.

This time is a bit different.

All three of the families are very curious about Harry Potter. Amelia, because of the letter the young boy sent her a few days ago. The Diggorys are all very curious about Harry after meeting him in Diagon alley earlier in the week. And the Scamanders are just naturally curious and have always been invested in meeting all of Rolf’s friends.

The Scamanders floo through first, and Rolf smiles before walking over to hug both of his grandparents.

Rolf quickly brings his grandparents over to Harry, just as the Diggorys are flooing in.

“Harry, I would like to introduce you to my grandparents, Lord Newt Scamander and Lady Tina Scamander nee Goldstein of the Noble House of Scamander. Gramps, Gran, this is Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter.”

“Lovely to meet you, Heir Potter,” Tina Scamander greets. “Please, call both my husband and I by our first names, or Mr. and Mrs. Scamander. My husband hates his title.”

Newt Scamander nods. “Yes I do. Pleasure to meet you Heir Potter.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Harry greets in return. “Please, call me by my first name. I’m afraid I’m still adjusting to the titles, so that would be preferable.”

Tina smiles at Harry. “You are doing very well Harry. But I understand the need to adjust. I had to do the same when I first moved to Britain.”

“Thank you Mrs. Scamander. Oh, Mr. Scamander, I haven’t had the pleasure of reading through all of your book yet, but I skimmed through one I borrowed from the Potter Manor. It looks fascinating. Especially the chapter on Hippogriffs, though that might have just been because the illustrations in that chapter caught my eye.”

Newt Scamander beams at the boy, immediately launching into a tale about the first hippogriff he encountered as a boy and the flock of hippogriffs located at the Scamander Reserve.

Harry can practically feel everyone staring at them, waiting for either Harry or Newt to end the discussion. The Diggorys in particular, minus Cedric, are fidgeting as they watch the conversation.

But Harry remembers what Susan said to him earlier about greetings.

“Never cut the other person off if you can help it. And for those that tend to be more long-winded, use that to your advantage. For example, if there is someone you don’t wish to speak to for very long, make them wait and they’ll feel like they don’t have as much time to talk to you when they finally get their turn.”

“That’s positively genius Susan. And a little devious. Where did you learn that?”

“I’ve been avoiding long-conversations with your brother for years now Harry. Thank god for Oliver Wood and his obsession with Quidditch.”

So Harry lets Newt Scamander talk for almost ten minutes before Tina politely stops him from trailing off into another species.

Several people perk up when Newt finally finishes talking, but Harry didn't even have to feign interest during the conversation. Harry isn’t the most interested in magical creatures, but practically everything in the magical world is fascinating to him at this point, even the things others would find more mundane.

For example, Harry has already selected a book on cleaning charms to read from the Abbott family library. Hannah bemoaned his poor decision and the others seemed to look at him like he was crazy as well. But Harry knows that he’ll read the book from cover to cover.

“Harry, good to see you again,” Amos greets, walking over with Catherine, Cedric, and Michael.

“Good to see you again too Amos. Catherine. Cedric.”

Catherine and Cedric both smile at Harry, while Michael appears to be annoyed with his step-father, standing as far away from the man as he can.

Harry spends the next several minutes talking with the Diggorys, dodging the less than subtle questions from Amos about why he is staying at Abbott Manor, and the much more subtle questions from Catherine.

Michael glares at his stepfather the entire time, scowling at the man.

Catherine shoots her son several warning looks and Michael ignores her. Amos notices but just continues to try to get answers out of Harry. And Cedric just smiles the entire time, apparently entirely used to the dynamic and looking just rather happy to be there despite the dramatics.

At least, until Cedric surprises Harry.

“Father, we are going to Potter Manor next week with other families from the Light Alliance. Why don’t we just ask them then instead of bothering Harry?”

Harry raises his eyebrow as both Amos and Catherine look completely flustered, both by the slight against them and the information Cedric just freely provided to the room.

From the stances of both Serena and Mitchell, and the Scamanders, Harry would guess that neither the Abbotts nor the Scamanders were invited to the gathering, despite the fact that both of these families are Light families.

Michael barely manages to bite his tongue before he bursts into laughter. He’s so used to Cedric pulling moves like this against his dad and stepmom. And the best part is that Cedric plays it off every time, claiming that he doesn’t understand the subtlety of politics and that he’s just too Hufflepuff for his own good. Amos and Catherine always quickly forgive him when he plays that card.

Harry quickly uses the distraction to avert his attention to Amelia Bones, who had entered halfway through Newt and Harry’s conversation.

“Heir Potter,” Amelia greets. “Lovely to meet you in person. I am Regent Amelia Bones of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones.”

“Pleasure to meet you Regent Bones. Please, feel free to call me by my first name. It is the least I could offer after your kind gift of Susan’s tutelage.”

The corner of Amelia’s mouth upticks by the smallest amount, but Harry catches it. “Very well Harry. I am pleased to see that you are taking to Susan’s tutelage. I hope you will continue to do so in the future.”

“Of course Regent Bones. I would never insult your gift by doing otherwise.”

“Good,” Amelia says. “Come along Susan. I only have another hour before I have to return to the office.”

Susan nods, hugging Hannah and waving to the others before they both floo out. The rest follow suit, with both Michael and Cedric surprisingly flooing back with the Scamanders rather than the Diggorys.

Harry lets out a small sigh once everyone is gone, turning towards the Abbotts. “How did I do?”

Serena smiles at Harry. “Very well Harry. You did very well.”

________________________________________

August 8th, 1991

Harry manages to floo to Greengrass with much more success than a few days prior when he stumbled and almost fell out of the Abbott Manor fireplace.

But he still lets Mitchell go ahead of him, to catch him if needed.

It’s not but Harry, and everyone else for that matter, insisted on the precaution.

Serena comes in after Harry, followed in quick succession by Hannah and Jeremy.

Harry looks up, noticing that all of the Greengrasses, including Tracey, have gathered to greet them. Harry smiles at Daphne and Tracey. Tracey beams back at Harry while Daphne just gives him a polite nod in return.

“Lord Greengrass,” Mitchel greets. “Thank you for having my family and Heir Potter into your lovely home.”

“Of course Lord Abbott,” Adrian says in return. “Lady Abbott, Heiress Abbott, Heir Apparent Abbott, and Harry, it is lovely to see all of you again.”

“Thank you,” Serena says. “We were quite pleased to receive your invitation. I think it’s a great idea for the children to mingle before they go off to Hogwarts in a month.”

“I quite agree,” Miriam says. “Daphne and Tracey are both looking forward to getting to know both your daughter and Harry better. And Astoria here will be glad to show Jeremy the Quidditch pitch. She is the only one in our family with an affinity for flying, and I hear that your son is quite interested in the sport.”

Harry tenses at the mention of flying, which visibly worries Tracey and Miriam. Adrian and Daphne don’t visibly react, but Harry can feel their eyes on him.

Hannah quickly reaches over and grabs Harry’s hand, squeezing it lightly. Harry glances over at Hannah and gives her a subtle nod, before taking a deep breath and standing straighter.

Miriam relaxes, but Tracey still looks incredibly worried. Daphne and Adrian don’t visibly react, but Harry notices a ghost of a smile on the man’s face.

“That sounds lovely,” Mitchell says, gesturing for Jeremy to follow Astoria. The two younger kids quickly walk off.

Daphne turns towards Harry. “Harry, Heiress Abbott, would you care to join us for tea?”

“Gladly,” Hannah says, and the two follow Tracey and Daphne through the manor.

Harry doesn’t notice when Hannah doesn’t let go of his hand the entire time.

At least, not until he sees Tracey staring at their joined hands as they sit down in the lounge and Harry decides to gently pull his hand away from Hannah.

Tracey’s mouth upticks and Hannah tenses slightly. Daphne shows the first bit of emotion for the day, staring at both the girls with a mildly annoyed look, and Harry swears he sees the faintest eye roll, but he could have been imagining it.

Harry awkwardly clears his throat, and thankfully Daphne comes to his rescue.

“So Harry, what led to you being hosted by the Abbotts for the summer?”

Hannah tenses further before she notices that Harry doesn’t seem to do the same. She glances at the boy, perplexed by his reaction.

Harry is still relaxed, staring at both Tracey and Daphne. He takes a long sip from his tea, drawing out anticipation from all three girls for his next words.

“Ginny writes to more than just Astoria.”

Tracey winces and Daphne’s eyes widen slightly.

“And so does Jacob. My cousin, and also your godfather, Daphne.”

Daphne actually gives Harry the faintest of smiles. “I’m impressed. You deduced that we knew rather quickly.”

“You both seem … quite invested.”

Tracey blushes at Harry’s word choice and Daphne’s schools her face.

Hannah just looks terribly confused as struggles to keep up with the conversation unfolding before her.

Harry smiles at the two before setting his cup down. “I do appreciate the concern. It means a great deal.”

Tracey seems to relax and Daphne doesn't seem to visibly react at all.

“Now, I was wondering, could you perhaps tell me a bit more about the Grey Alliance? I find it absolutely fascinating how much power a few families hold over the whole country.”

Hannah is starting to realize just how out of her depth she is in this conversation.

________________________________________

“I am quite surprised that your entire family came to visit instead just Harry and your daughter,” Adrian says to Mitchell and Serena, as the parents all sit down in Adrian’s office.

“Could we not?” Mitchell asks. “I mean no offense Lord Abbott, but I was sorted into Hufflepuff for a reason. I’m absolutely terrible at politics.”

The fact that Serena is quite capable when it comes to politics is both unspoken and loudly heard.

Miriam giggles and Adrian chuckles.

“Sometimes I feel the same way, Lord Abbott,” Miriam concurs. “I was sorted into Ravenclaw, not Slytherin. Sometimes I feel quite out of my depths.”

“You handle it marvelously,” Serena compliments.

“So do you,” Miriam compliments in return.

“I understand your request Lord Abbott,” Adrian says. “And I quite agree. I am very pleased that Harry is taking residence with your family for the summer.”

“We grew quite fond of the boy when we first met him,” Miriam adds. “He was just so small and lost and I knew we had to help him, but he’s also clearly very clever and self-reliant. We are glad that he is staying with you, as we find the Abbotts much more … palatable than the Potters.”

“Indeed.”

Mitchell stifles a laugh and even Serena resists the urge to smile at the jab against the Potters.

“Thank you,” Mitchell says. “But we actually accepted the invitation to visit your beautiful manor for a specific reason, besides just letting the children spend time together.”

Adrian leans forward in his chair, and even Miriam looks mildly interested.

“How invested are you in Harry?” Serena asks bluntly, clearly taking control of the conversation from her husband.

“Like my lovely wife said, we’ve grown quite fond of Harry,” Adrian says.

Serena nods, looking thoughtful as she considers her next move.

“Then I believe we can help each other, if you are willing.”

“What are you offering?

“The transition of the Noble House of Abbott from the Light Alliance to the Grey Alliance,” Mitchell answers.

Adrian smiles at the thought. “And what would you like in return?”

“What do you know about Marlene McKinnon?”

________________________________________

“I’m sorry about Daphne,” Tracey says to Hannah and Harry when Daphne excuses herself to the bathroom.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Harry says. “I found our conversation very enjoyable, if not a bit tedious. Though I suppose that’s just because this friendship is so new.”

Hannah smiles hesitantly, as if she doesn’t quite agree with Harry but she isn’t willing to disagree.

“She’s certainly an acquired taste,” Tracey says. “But once she decides that she cares about you, she is the most loyal person you could ever know. She would move mountains if Astoria or I asked her too.”

“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing that Daphne is so intrigued by me. I would like to have a friend like that.”

Hannah smiles at Harry. “You do Harry.”

Harry smiles at Hannah, though he’s slightly confused by the slight blush on the girl’s face.

But he’s distracted from pondering that further when Tracey reaches across the table and grabs Harry’s hand gently. “That you do.”

Harry smiles at Tracey, not even noticing when Hannah turns to stare at the girl.

Harry is completely distracted from both girls when Daphne walks back into the room. “Harry, would you care to walk with me?”

Harry nods, smiling at both Tracey and Hannah before following Daphne out of the room. The two girls resist the urge to follow the pair out of the room, turning to each other.

“So … have you read the latest copy of Witch Weekly?” Tracey asks, trying to break the ice.

“No.”

“Oh-”

“I’ve read it five times,” Hannah interrupts

“Only five?” Tracey asks.

________________________________________

“You were asking about the Grey Alliance and I thought I would give you a clearer answer,” Daphne says, pushing open a door and leading Harry inside.

The room is clearly a meeting room of some kind, with a large table in the middle of the room with enough seats for about a dozen people. The back wall adorned with numerous books and a large mural in the middle.

Harry stares at the mural, realizing that it lists the five classifications of Nobility that have voting power with the families that correlate with each as well as all of elected seats.

Daphne leads him over to the mural. “The Grey Alliance is different from the Light and Dark Alliances. We tend to be more of a loose connection of families that disagree with both of the ideals of the two bigger alliances than a completely structured alliance ourselves.”

Harry nods, understanding that much from his lesson with Susan.

“The Grey Alliance consists of ten families of Nobility and we don’t currently have any elected seats.”

Harry frowns. “Wait, ten families? There are only ten families in the alliance that currently decides on what laws get passed?”

Daphne nods. “Yes, with the near equal distribution between the Light and the Dark, both sides need our support. Currently the alliance consists of 5 Ancient Houses, the Edgecombs, the Smiths, the Shafiqs, the Slughorns, and the Davies. There are two Grey Noble Houses, the Lovegoods and the Fawleys. We have two Ancient and Noble Houses in the Flints and Clearwaters. And then there is my family and we are a Most Ancient and Noble House. That is a total of 84 votes.”

“But it’s not that simple,” Harry guesses.

“No, it’s not. Of those families, only a few vote in lockstep with my father despite the fact that he is considered the head of the Grey Alliance. The Ancient and Noble House of Flint is our strongest ally with Lady Marietta Flint being my father’s best friend and first non-familial bond. The Noble House of Fawley and the Ancient Houses of Davies and Shafiq all also vote with my father, which means the core Grey Alliance only controls 48 of the full 84 votes that total the Grey Alliance. Of the rest of the houses, the Ancient House of Edgecomb and the Noble House of Lovegood often tend towards the Light Alliance. As does the Ancient and Noble House of Clearwater, though not as strongly as the previous two. The Ancient Houses of Smith and Slughorn tend to vote more in line with the Dark Alliance.”

“Why are they considered a part of the Grey Alliance if they tend more toward the Light or the Dark?”

“Because the families don’t vote in lockstep with the rest of the respective alliances. It keeps them being specifically categorized in the other two, and the Grey Alliance often picks up the rest. On a good day, my father controls the full 84 votes. Most of the time he tends more towards the 48 votes from the core alliance, along with Clearwater votes and occasionally another house or two.”

Harry nods. “That makes sense. But something is still confusing me.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Harry asks. “This is not information that I expected for you to freely provide.”

“It is all public information.”

“Yes, but I would have to comb through the voting records of the Grey Alliance from the past several years to discover what you told me in the last few minutes. Why are you freely providing information?”

“Who said I was providing the information freely?”

“Because you haven’t asked anything of me … Unless, you know that I will likely repay you back in the future and that’s why you did it.”

Daphne doesn’t respond to Harry’s statement.

“It’s not an incorrect assumption. I don’t like to have debts owed to others, unless they are between friends. So that just begs the question, are we friends? Are you willing to be friends with me if that means losing out on information of equal or greater value than what you just provided to me?”

Daphne looks at Harry. “You are quite clever.”

“And you didn't answer the question,” Harry says. “Compliments do often distract me, but not now.”

“Yes, I do consider our friendship worth more than the information you could possibly provide me.”

Harry nods, smiling at Daphne. “You know I’m going to end up providing you with information anyways, right?”

“Of course I do. I’m not daft. You are clever, but not that clever.”

Harry laughs at Daphne, feeling elated when gives she him a small smile in return.

________________________________________

“Cousin,” Anthony Goldstein greets, as he walks into Rolf’s room and lays down on the boy’s bed.

“Cousin,” Rolf greets back, looking up from his desk.

“So, how was Heir Potter?” Anthony asks. “Was he exactly like his brother?”

“You act like you weren’t at the burrow flying with Charles and Ron just yesterday.”

“Just because I was spending time with them doesn’t mean I actually enjoy it.”

And it’s the truth. Anthony is an enigma to most of the people in their age group.

He’s scarily good at being friends with everyone. He’s not the kind to necessarily play both sides, more of the bridge between everyone, since the kids of the Grey Alliance tend towards spending time amongst themselves rather than filling that role.

But considering the number of people Anthony spends time with, he only really enjoys spending time with a few of them.

Susan Bones. He appreciates her analytical and political mind, and her overwhelming knowledge that would put many Ravenclaws to shame.

His cousin, Rolf Scamander, simply because they understand each other after growing up with each other. Anthony probably stays at the Scamander Reserve as often as he does with his parents.

And the third is surprising, even to Rolf. Lisa Turpin, Heiress of the Noble Turpin House, which is the only Noble House that is a member of the Dark Alliance. The Turpins are interesting to Anthony, particularly Lisa. They are so close to turning towards the Grey Alliance, with only one major factor keeping them from switching ranks.

Werewolves. Anthony has been party to many speeches from his friend, and each one is filled with vitriol and anger from his usually calm and even affable friend.

It’s intriguing, in a way that Anthony does quite understand but he intends to. Because if Anthony has one fatal quality, it’s his incessant need to know everything, even things that serve no use to him.

For example, Anthony has no desire to go into any field related to Magical Zoology, like his cousin, but every time Lord Scamander offers to teach the boy, Anthony jumps at the chance.

It’s confusing to Rolf, to want to learn something that serves no purpose when that time could be better spent investing in things that are enjoyable, but his cousin genuinely enjoys seeking knowledge.

“I know Anthony,” Rolf says to his cousin. “But Harry, on the other hand, is quite enjoyable to be around. He’s lacking knowledge about our world and is perhaps a bit fragile, though both are understandable, given his circumstances.”

“Fragile? Why would he be fra-”

“No,” Rolf interrupts.

“But-”

“No. I was told what I was told in confidence. It is not for you to know.”

Anthony pouts at his cousin. “Stupid Hufflepuff loyalty.”

“You could use a bit more, and we haven’t even been sorted yet.”

“I have plenty of loyalty, just not excess of it, and please, we both know where we are going to be sorted. Only a few sortings are actually going to be up in the air.”

Rolf nods. “Like Harry’s.”

Anthony turns his attention back to his cousin. “Oh really?”

Rolf groans.

________________________________________

August 9th, 1991

Michael knocks on the door to Cedric’s room, letting himself in.

He’s only mildly surprised to see Cho sitting on Cedric’s bed while Cedric sits at his desk. Cho spends so much time over at Diggory Manor that it’s practically a regular occurrence.

“Little one!” Cho greets. “Come here and give me a hug. I haven’t seen you for a week.”

Michael rolls his eyes, sitting down next to Cho and letting Cedric’s best friend pull him into a hug. “You are one year older than me Cho. And I’ve been busy.”

“Still older,” Cho says. “And I know. Cedric has been filling me in.”

Michael turns to glare at his brother. “Gossip,” he insults.

Cedric laughs. “Well, Cho asked about how my week was, and I couldn’t talk about the last week without at least mentioning Harry and my brother’s infatuation with him.”

Michael continues to glare at Cedric as Cho stifles a giggle. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing.”

“I think it’s cute,” Cho says. “Ahh, young love.”

“It’s not love! Harry’s just my friend. There’s nothing there, just like there’s nothing between the two of you.”

Cho and Cedric seem to disagree, but they both drop it. The pair hates it when people constantly assume they are dating, so they also both know that Michael wouldn’t make the comparison unless he really wanted to drop the subject.

“Seriously though, I’m glad you made a new friend Michael. You need a friendship like Cho and I have.”

Michael frowns at his brother. “I mean, Harry is great, but I’m not exactly lacking for friends. I have Hannah and Susan and I’m bonded with Rolf.”

“Yeah, but they’ll all be-” Cho starts to say.

“Yeah, we’ll all be hufflepuffs, but so what?” Michael asks angrily. “Hufflepuff is a great house and it’s good to have friends in your own house.”

“It is,” Cho agrees. “And hufflepuffs are great, no one is saying they aren’t.”

“Especially not me,” Cedric says. “I’m proud to be a hufflepuff. I just also understand that there are four houses for a reason. It’s good to have friends in other houses too. It helps open your eyes.”

“Harry could be a hufflepuff,” Michael protests weakly.

In his mind, Michael can see it. Sharing a dorm room with Rolf and Harry and taking all of their classes with Hannah and Susan. It would be perfect.

But Michael knows it’s only a dream.

“He could,” Cedric agrees. “But he might not be. And all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let that affect your friendship. No matter what. Hufflepuffs are loyal, and more than just to other hufflepuffs.”

Cho nods in agreement. “Cedric and I are best friends despite being in separate houses. If you wanted Michael, you could do it too. It’s not the easiest, and in fact it takes a lot of work, but it’s definitely worth it. If you are willing to put in the hard work.”

Michael smiles at the two. “I am. Harry is worth it. Our friendship is worth it.”

Cho and Cedric both smile at Michael, with Cho even leaning over to hug him again and Cedric getting out of his chair to ruffle Michael’s hair.

“Good choice brother.”

Chapter Text

August 12th, 1991
Sometimes Susan wishes she wasn’t so placating.

It’s something she learned from her Aunt, how to always make it seem like you’re saying yes, even when you really aren’t, and how to say yes to people as often as possible.

There’s the reason Amelia Bones has held the office of Head of the DMLE for over a decade without any talks of her removal.

It’s because she’s very good at placating people. Making them feel heard even when she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about them or their problems.

So, Susan sucks it up and floos to Potter Manor, knowing that none of her friends will be there.

The Scamanders are rarely invited to join these larger gatherings and they would likely not accept any invitations if they did receive them. The Scamander family is a Light family, but they are also perhaps the most vocal about Dumbledore’s flaws.

Susan quite agrees with them, but she isn’t nearly as vocal.

Usually both Hannah and Michael would be in attendance at these gatherings as well, with Hannah being Heiress of the Noble House of Abbott and Michael technically being deemed a ward of the Ancient and Noble House of Diggory.

But the Abbotts were not invited today. And likely because inviting the Abbotts would mean inviting Harry.

Hannah is quite happy with the outcome, looking forward to a day of spending time with Harry, Michael, Rolf, and possibly even Anthony.

Michael is a more interesting case. He originally was invited along with the rest of the Diggory House. But Cedric managed to convince his father and stepmother that Michael attending the gathering could be a recipe for disaster.

Michael may not have outright attacked Charles and Ron if he saw them today, but he would have been outwardly hostile towards the two boys.

So Michael is spending the day with the rest of Susan’s friends. And Susan is stuck here, without even her Aunt.

“Susan,” Lily Potter greets, as the girl steps through the floo. “Lovely to see you.”

“You too, Lady Potter.”

Lily smiles at Susan for a second before her face falters. “Is Harry-”

“Harry is spending the day with the Abbotts,” Susan interrupts. “He and Hannah are getting along swimmingly, and Harry has made a number of friends in the past week, including myself.”

Lily nods. “The rest of the children are outside.”

Susan smiles politely at Lily before walking out of the manor.

She’s clearly one of the first to arrive, but that’s a common occurrence. Aunt Ami always stresses punctuality, even for events where attendance is rather tiresome.

Sadly, many members of the Light Alliance don’t have the same tendency towards punctuality. Especially those within Lord Potter’s inner circle.

Susan spots Neville Longbottom, Heir Apparent of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, in the garden. Ernie Macmillan, Heir Apparent of the Ancient and Noble House of Macmillan, is talking with Charles and Ron, as well as both the Patil heiresses of the Aged House of Patil. The twins are already flying, with Ginny staring at the Quidditch pitch both longingly and with disgust.

Susan strongly suspects that the Weasleys arrived hours ago. There’s no other way the family would have arrived before her.

Susan resists the urge to join Neville the garden. He is one of the more enjoyable people to converse with at any of these gatherings, despite his timidness. At least he is actually interested in something besides just quidditch, a rarity at their age.

Instead she chooses to join Ginny, deciding to appear at least somewhat social.

“Heiress Weasley,” Susan greets.

Ginny smiles at Susan in greeting. “Heir Apparent Bones. May I ask, how is our mutual friend?”

Susan resists the urge to beam at Ginny. The Weasley family often resists the formalities of the culture. Susan understands that Heir Apparent Weasley at least puts in a passing effort, but most of the family is rather lacking. Except the third heir, Percy Weasley. And apparently he is doing a fine job of teaching Ginny.

“Heir Potter is doing well,” Susan says. “He spent an enjoyable day with the Greengrasses earlier this week, and he is quite enjoying lessons about our world. Oh and please, call me by my first name.”

Ginny nods. “Please call me by my first name as well then. And that is good to hear.”

“Thank you for your rescue of Harry, Ginny. The House of Bones is quite grateful to you, for saving my personal friend.”

Susan was careful with her wording, nothing that would create any kind of debt owed towards Ginny, and nothing that would firmly establish Harry as connected to her house, but just enough to acknowledge what Ginny did and express appreciation.

Ginny seems to understand, nodding slightly. “Of course Susan, no need for thanks.”

The two stare out as Charles, Ron, and Ernie start to fly around the pitch. Parvati continues to stand on the edge of the pitch, clapping and cheering for the boys as they fly around in lazy circles around the pitch, waiting for more people to join the game.

Padma does for a little while as well but tears away from her twin when Lavender Brown joins Parvati. Padma joins Susan and Ginny, the next viable alternative.

“Still having disagreements with Heiress Brown?” Susan asks Padma.

“She’s just so … preppy,” Padma says, with a slight scowl on her face.

Ginny laughs and even Susan has to cover her mouth to stop herself from adding to the laughter.

Alicia Spinnett of the Aged House of Spinnett and Katie Bell of the Ancient House of Bell show up together, both quickly joining the boys on the quidditch pitch.

“I don’t see why they get to play, and I don’t,” Ginny huffs.

“They are on the Gryffindor quidditch team,” Padma says.

“I was talking about Charles and Ron,” Ginny corrects. “I saved someone’s life by jumping off my broom so no more quidditch for me. But they almost kill someone, and they still get to play.”

Padma stares at Ginny with a mixture of confusion and shock, but Susan reaches over and grabs Ginny’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Not a word,” Susan says under her breath to Ginny so Padma can’t hear, before turning towards the other girl. “Ginny is just referring to a little accident that happened last week with Percy and Ron. Lord knows that Percy can’t fly to save his life.”

Padma laughs and nods in agreement, but Susan can tell the girl doesn’t fully believe her.

Dammit, why couldn’t Ginny have slipped up around the dumber twin? Or better yet, not at all?

Ginny pries her hand away from Susan, but she clearly gets the message, staring at the ground and fidgeting constantly.

Padma eventually trails off towards Neville, deciding to converse with the boy.

Susan understands Padma’s actions, though personally she thinks that might be a fool’s errand. Augusta Longbottom is not likely to approve of any pairing she doesn’t believe will aid her grandson, and Padma is perhaps a bit too reserved for the boy. Susan suspects that Neville needs someone that can pull him out of his shell, but Susan would be interested to see Padma prove her wrong.

Heir Apparent Oliver Wood of the Noble House of Wood, Heir Apparent Cedric Diggory, and Heiress Fay Dunbar of the Noble House of Dunbar all show up in quick succession, though Oliver only quickly surveys the pitch and backyard, before walking back inside.

“That’s a fool’s errand if I’ve ever seen one,” Ginny notes, watching Oliver walk back inside.

“What’s a fool’s errand?” Fay Dunbar asks Ginny, approaching the pair.

“Oliver attempting to get my brother out of the Potter library,” Ginny answers, just as Heir Apparent Seamus Finnegan of the Minor Noble House of Finnigan and Heiress Megan Jones of the Minor Noble House of Jones join the rest of the heirs and heiresses outside. Seamus makes a quick entrance onto the pitch while Megan joins Susan’s group.

“Why is that a fool’s errand?” Fay asks.

“What’s a fool’s errand?” Megan Jones asks.

“Oliver is attempting to get Percy to leave the Potter library,” Susan says, repeating Ginny’s original answer.

“Such a fool’s errand. My brother would never be pulled away from books in order to play quidditch. It’s a miracle he attends the Gryffindor matches, and even then, I’m pretty sure Oliver has to beg him to go.”

“Why does he dislike quidditch so much?” Fay asks.

“He doesn’t dislike it, he just finds it boring,” Ginny answers.

Megan nods. “I understand. Quidditch is quite boring, though there is at least one upside,” Megan says, smirking as she stares at Cedric get on his broom and shoot into the air. “A very big upside.”

Susan rolls her eyes at her friend’s antics, while Ginny blanches and Fay has the dignity to appear embarrassed, despite staring at Cedric as well.

Susan can’t really blame Megan though. She is the Heiress of a Minor Noble House and has likely been encouraged to date and marry someone of a higher social standing for her entire life. If those years of instructions have manifested in Megan being a little boy crazy, then Susan can hardly fault the girl. She’s still more subtle than Parvati.

“Well, at least it’s usually an upside,” Megan says, staring at Heir Apparent Cormac McLaggen of the Ancient and Noble House of McLaggen with thinly veiled distaste.

“He’s not unattractive,” Fay says, as she turns to look at Cormac.

“No, in fact he is quite conventionally attractive,” Megan agrees. “I just happen to have some modicum of self-respect and personality is quite important to a person’s attractiveness. At least in my opinion.”

Susan bites back the laughter that threatens to escape, but Ginny doesn't bother, chuckling along with Megan.

It is well-known that Cormac McLaggen is disliked by many of the girls in their age group, with Katie Bell rejecting his advances on an almost weekly basis and only Lavender and possibly Parvati still finding the boy attractive.

Before anything else can be said on the matter, Oliver Wood stalks out of the Potter Manor and towards the pitch, a dejected look on his face.

“Poor Oliver,” Susan says, as the boy walks by. “He always tries so hard.”

“Poor Percy,” Megan says, watching Oliver walk away. “I mean, I’m just saying, he has a nice butt.”

Fay blanches and Ginny scrunches her nose in disgust.

“Megan!” Susan exclaims.

“What? I’m just telling the truth. I don’t even like quidditch, but I would be willing to learn more for him. A lot more.”

“Megan!”

“And his last name is very illustrative. I mean, it’s literally Wo-”

Susan clamps her hand over Megan’s mouth before she can say anything else.

Megan just giggles but thankfully doesn’t continue when Susan pulls her hand away. “Party Pooper.”

Susan just rolls her eyes, watching as a mock game of quidditch is started. Megan drifts off to watch the game with Lavender and Parvati right on the front lines and Neville and Padma walk over from the garden to join Susan, Fay, and Ginny.

Neville nods at Susan in greeting, a shy smile on his face. Susan smiles back. “Good to see you Neville.”

“You too Susan. How is Rolf?”

“Quite well. He is hoping you would be willing to visit the Scamander Reserve soon.”

“I will have to write to him then.”

Susan nods, focusing back on the game.

As much as Susan loathes to admit it, besides a player or two, everyone playing is clearly talented. Especially the Gryffindor team players, Cedric, and Charles.

Even Ron is clearly skilled, serving as a Keeper versus Oliver. He’s not doing as good as the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, but he’s holding his own.

Charles and Cedric are neck and neck when the snitch appears on the field, with Cedric only managing to outpace Charles by the narrowest of margins.

Susan hides the scowl that threatens to cross her face as she watches the game unfold.

Ginny’s right, Charles and Ron definitely shouldn’t be allowed to play after what they did. By all accounts, Harry could’ve very well died due to the stunt those two pulled, and for Ginny to be banned from flying after saving Harry is just ludacris. If there is ever a time to be reckless, that’s when a life is on the line.

Based on the semi-permanent scowl on Ginny’s face, she clearly agrees.

Susan remembers the days when Ginny used to chase after Charles, staring at him fondly as he played.

Those days are long gone, and it appears that Charles did in fact manage to kill something that day as Charles absolutely shattered what was left of Ginny’s infatuation for him.

Shame. Ginny could have perhaps actually managed to knock some sense into the Heir Apparent of the Potter House.

Now there’s no chance. Charles will likely end up with Brown or Parvati instead.

Oh how Susan wished Harry was still the Heir Apparent. Then Susan might actually have a competent person to vote with when she came of age.

“Has anyone seen Cho Chang?” Padma asks. “I had a few questions for her about Ravenclaw.”

Susan raises an eyebrow in interest as she turns to face Padma. “The Changs weren’t invited.”

Padma frowns. “But why? They are a light family after all.”

“These gatherings tend to be more close quarters,” Neville explains. “And Lord Potter considers close quarters to be mostly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.”

Padma frowns, looking contemplative, so Susan decides to just leave her to her thoughts.

“What about the Abbotts?” Fay asks after a few minutes pass, well into the second mock game of quidditch.

“They were otherwise preoccupied,” Neville answers for Susan, surprising the girl, before he turns to Susan. “Did Heir Potter receive the book from my grandmother?”

Susan nods. “Yes. I believe he is on his second reading now, and he’ll return it next week, with a page of the most important notes he drew from his readings.”

“Good,” Neville says, turning back to the game. “Grandmother will be pleased.”

Susan sincerely hopes so. The last thing Harry needs to do now is anger Augusta Longbottom. That woman wields almost as much power as James Potter and Dumbledore in the light alliance.

“What are they talking about?” Padma asks, gesturing to the group of Charles Potter, Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnegan, and Cormac McLaggen. The group of four are talking and laughing at the edge of the quidditch pitch, as Oliver and Cedric set up for another game.

Susan can see Ron making wild and dramatic gestures, though she can’t make out his words. Cormac and Seamus are laughing as Ron continues, and Charles is chuckling along with the rest, though much more reserved than the other two.

Ginny’s scowl has turned into a full-blown look of utter disgust and hatred as she stares at her brother. She storms off after the group, and Susan quickly follows. She can hear Neville, Fay, and Padma follow after them. Megan, Lavender, and Parvati are also listening to Ron’s story, with the former frowning at the boys while the latter two giggle. The rest of the quidditch players are distracted by helping Cedric and Oliver set up for the next game, though a couple of them are starting to look over at Ron’s group with annoyed glances.

Ginny marches over to her brother, and Susan struggles to grab the girl, trying to stop her likely bull-headed reaction. Ginny may be a bit more intelligent than some of siblings, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t suffer from many of the same tendencies as they do. She reaches out and manages to grab the girl’s hand, pulling her back and thrusting her towards Neville.

Then Susan freezes when she is finally able to listen to the story Ron is telling.

“So he was just there, clutching to his broom in mid-air like a little wuss, and-”

“Seriously?” Cormac laughs. “Isn’t he your age Charles?”

Charles just nods in answer.

“God, what a little bitch.”

“Anyways, he was yelling for Ginny to help him down, because he didn't know how to do it himself and he also managed to insult the Potter family. So naturally, Charles had to show him the reason why he’s the Heir Apparent and teach his brother a lesson.”

“Good on you Charles,” Seamus says, clapping Charles on the back. “He deserved it.”

Charles stares at Seamus in shock but doesn’t disagree.

“So Charles kicked his broom. He wasn’t expecting for the moron to actually fall off. It’s a shame the pond broke his fall because now will have to put up with him at Hogwarts. It would’ve been so much easi-”

Susan’s wand is in her hand before she even realizes what she’s doing. She’s not even technically supposed to have her wand on her, but Aunt Ami insisted she carry it ever since she got it a month ago.

“Langlock. Melofors. Flipendo!” Susan casts in quick succession, launching three jinxes at Ron.

The first, Langlock, locks Ron’s tongue to the roof of his mouth, stopping him from speaking further. The second, Melofors, encases Ron’s head in a pumpkin, blinding and disorienting the boy. The last jinx, Flipendo, knocks Ron back several feet onto his ass, and the pumpkin encasing the boy’s head breaks, covering the boy in the pumpkin’s guts.

Susan resists the urge to stare at her own wand in shock. But that would be idiotic. Susan cast the spells. She intended to cast the spells. She wanted Ron Weasley to feel embarrassed and harassed. She wanted Ron Weasley to feel how Harry felt.

She wanted Ron to hurt.

Because no one, not even a spoiled sixth in line heir of a Minor Noble, will mock her friends in front of her. No one!

Susan won’t stand for it.

But her own uncompromising loyalty has just put Susan into a situation that she isn’t really sure how to handle.

She can go one of two ways. Either apologize for her actions or double down.

If she apologizes, none of the adults will stay mad at her for long. How could they? Her family holds 18 votes on Wizengamot. They need her. But then she would have to actually apologize to Ron Weasley and the thought makes her skin crawl.

But if she doubles down, she knows she is practically untouchable by the Weasleys. Despite the fact that Arthur is a Lord and a head of a department in the ministry, Susan’s word carries much more weight. Aunt Ami would support her niece, even if she thought her niece was making an idiotic and reckless decision. But there could be consequences if Susan does double down and completely throw her family’s weight behind Harry this early.

It might still happen eventually. Susan isn’t stupid, she knows Harry could be in line for both the Black and the McKinnon Lordships through his godparents. And that’s not even considering the magical strength that Harry holds, which surprised even Aunt Ami, though the woman was just as perplexed as she was intrigued by Harry’s magical strength.

But throwing all her weight behind Harry right now could still be a very poor decision.

Still, Susan won’t apologize. Ron Weasley deserved everything he got and more.

Susan can hear adults rushing outside at the sound of commotion, and Susan realizes this is the only moment she has before the story will be told by Ron and Charles instead of her.

“Heir Ronald Weasley of the Minor Noble House of Weasley, let it be known that the Most Ancient and Noble House is heavily considering a feud against your family for your heinous words and actions against my personal friend, Heir Harry Potter! Let it be known!”

“Let it be known,” Susan hears Neville say from behind her, with a few others repeating her call.

Susan clenches her wand tightly in her hand, hoping she made the right choice. At the very least, she carefully made sure to only say that her friendship with Harry was a personal one rather than one between Harry and her entire house. It makes her claim of a possible feud much weaker, but it can still stand as long as someone witnessed her call and repeated it, making it an official matter.

Thank Merlin for Neville.

“What happened to my baby?” Molly Weasley screeches, rushing over to help Ron off and clean away the pumpkin guts, before turning to glare at Susan. “You-”

Susan sneers at Molly, preparing to raise her wand again and declare the feud official, before someone interrupts her

“Molly!” Arthur snaps at his wife, much more aware of his precarious position. Or perhaps just more caring. “Heir Apparent Bones, would you make the reason behind your consideration of a possible feud known?”

“Your sixth heir’s despicable actions on August the 3rd to my personal friend, Heir Harry Potter, and his disgusting taunts about Heir Potter on this day,” Susan answers coldly. “I believe the words that stirred me to action were, ‘It’s a shame the pond broke his fall because now will have to put up with him at Hogwarts,’.”

Several gasps are heard around the courtyard, with a particularly loud one from Lily Potter. An angry growl is heard from Cedric before he manages to stop himself.

Arthur looks horrified and even Molly winces at Susan’s accusation against her son.

Susan briefly notes that Neville is holding Ginny back out of the corner of her eyes, stopping the brash girl from rushing in and joining the volatile situation.

“Susa-,” James Potter starts to say, before quickly stopping himself when he receives a short glare from the girl. “Heir Apparent Bones, surely there is a way to resolve this issue more privately and without such severe potential consequences.”

Susan starts to weigh her options, before shaking her head. “No, Ronald Weasley made his comments to a public forum, so it shall stay as such.”

“I quite agree,” Augusta Longbottom. “And may I just add that Heir Apparent Bones is handling this situation without her Regent being present or any adults for that matter, unlike young Heir Weasley, who appears to have three adults backing him. Perhaps we sho-”

“That’s not our fault!” Molly cries. “She’s the one who curs-”

“Lady Weasley, pardon me, but would you kindly shut up!” Augusta Longbottom hisses. “As I was saying, I will be representing Heir Apparent Bones until her Regent can take guardianship of her.”

James and Arthur both pale, while Molly falters under Augusta’s intense stare.

“Regent Longbottom, surely that’s not necessary,” James says.

“On the contrary Lord Potter, I find it completely necessary. While Heir Apparent Bones’ actions may have been perhaps a bit hasty, they were out of loyalty towards her personal friend, your Heir.”

James winces at the jab and Lily looks visibly ill. Even Charles flinches at the reminder of his brother.

“Meanwhile, Heir Weasley’s actions and words were just as hasty if not more so and they have no logical explanation.”

James just gapes at Augusta, clearly at a loss for words.

“Of course Regent Longbottom,” Arthur says. “Heir Apparent Bones, what concession do you demand of my family in order to avoid a feud?”

Augusta turns to stare at Susan in answer, and Susan resists the urge to shiver under the woman’s cold stare.

Susan knows she won’t be able to ask for much. Her call was weak despite her evidence of Ron’s misdoings because she only claimed Harry as a personal friend.”

“A handwritten and sincere apology delivered to Heir Potter within the week,” Susan answers.

Augusta nods, before turning back to Arthur. “That seems quite fair. Wouldn’t you agree Lord Weasley?”

Arthur quickly nods. “The apology will be delivered within the week, Heir Apparent Bones. Let it be known.”

“Let it be known,” everyone intones, witnessing Arthur’s promise.

Susan nods, holstering her wand. “My anger is satisfied. Let it be known.”

“Let it be known,” everyone intones again.

“If that is all, I suspect that I should be getting Heir Apparent Bones to her Aunt. Come along Neville, Susan.”

Susan pales as Augusta Longbottom draws her away.

Neville comes to walk next to Susan, offering the girl silent support as they move towards the manor and the floo room together.

“Heir Apparent Bones!” Lily calls out after Susan, before they can floo out of the Potter Manor.

“Yes Lady Potter?” Susan asks.

“Is Harry … is he ok? Is he recovering?”

“I believe your heir is quite capable of reading letters that are sent to him, Lady Potter,” Augusta says. “He, after all, read and understood mine just fine.”

Augusta leads both Neville and Susan to the floo, leaving a gobsmacked Lily behind them.

Susan is taken to Longbottom Manor. She gets a shy but supportive smile from Neville, before the boy’s grandmother tells him he can go.

“Heir Apparent Bones, you do understand that your actions were rash, correct?” Augusta asks.

Susan nods. “Of course Regent Longbottom.”

“Good. I am quite impressed that you didn't back down though. And you handled the situation as well as you could, given the fact that you knowingly attacked an heir of another family of Nobility.”

“Thank you Regent Longbottom.”

“You understand that there will likely be consequences of your actions, correct?”

“Of course Regent Longbottom.”

“Good, you may be smarter than I originally gave you credit for. I suppose you also realize that you owe me a minor debt, given that I stepped in to help you this afternoon?”

“Yes Regent Longbottom.”

Augusta nods. “Then be relieved Heir Apparent Bones, for I only have a simple request of you. Look after my Neville while you are at Hogwarts. The boy could use a friend like you. One so utterly loyal to her friends.”

“Of course Regent Longbottom. That will be no issue.”

Augusta smirks at the girl. “Good. Now, why don’t you relax for a little bit? Your Aunt should be here within the hour, and I doubt you will have time for such pleasures once she hears about what you’ve done.”

Susan pales.

________________________________________
“Hello Neville,” Susan greets as she steps into one of the Longbottom greenhouses. Susan has been here a handful of times before. She knows that this is Neville’s favorite place in the entirety of Longbottom Manor.

“Susan,” Neville says in greeting, before turning back to his plants. Susan takes a seat near him, relaxing at the calming environment that surrounds her.

“When is your aunt arriving?” Neville asks after several minutes, drawing Susan out of her peaceful bliss.

“In about half an hour,” Susan guesses. “I am making sure to enjoy what little time I have before she arrives.”

Neville laughs. “I know that feeling. Very well in fact. Your aunt sounds very similar to my grandmother.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Susan says. “They both do have a certain … presence.”

Neville nods in agreement.

“So, where do you think you’ll be sorted Neville?” Susan asks.

Neville shrugs. “Not Slytherin, that’s for sure. But the other three are possibilities, even if distant. I’m not very studious unless it comes to herbology, so probably not Ravenclaw but it’s still possible. Though, I don’t know if I’m loyal or brave enough for either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor.”

“You would do well in Hufflepuff,” Susan says. “You are loyal, and kind, and honest, and hard working. You would very well if that’s what you wanted.”

Neville smiles at Susan.

“But what do you want Neville? Do you want to do well? Or do you want to do great?”

“Great,” Neville answers without hesitation. “I want to make my parents proud. I want to be more than good. I want to be great.”

Susan smiles at Neville. “I think you could be great Neville. You have potential.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’m a future hufflepuff after all. I don’t lie.”

Neville seems to accept that, turning back to his plants but still holding a conversation with Susan. “What do you want Susan?”

“Me? I want to do what’s best for my House and my friends. If I can do that, I’ll be very happy.”

“So, you don’t want to be great?”

“If I have to be, then I’ll be great. But I would rather just be helpful and useful. I would rather be wanted- no, I’d rather be needed. I would rather be an essential part of my friend’s live, someone that helps them so much that they feel like they can depend on me. Does that make any sense?”

Neville nods. “Yes. You want to make up for the family you were missing growing up. Is that why you were so quick to befriend Harry? Because you saw a piece of yourself in him?”

Susan flinches. “Very perceptive Neville. And yes, I think you might be right. I never even thought about that. I’m very impressed.”

“Well, like you said, I have potential.”

Susan smiles at Neville. “You certainly do.”

________________________________________

“How could you be so stupid Susan?” Amelia asks her niece. “So reckless? So rash? So daft?”

Susan gulps. “I am sorry Aunt Ami. I just … when Ronald said what he said about Harry, I saw red.”

Amelia’s face falters as she stares at her niece in such turmoil. “Oh Susan, what a hufflepuff you are. Loyal to a fault. Just like your father.”

Susan winces at the mention of her father, tears stinging her eyes.

“You are so much like him, sometimes it hurts,” Amelia says. “I am sorry Susan for all of my failures. For not raising you better. For not being there as much as I should. For not being there this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry too Aunt Ami,” Susan cries. “I just, I don’t want my friends to hurt anymore.”

“Oh Susan, you didn't even hesitate before you became attached to Harry. Do you know why?”

Susan frowns before shaking her head.

“Because you have such a big heart. Because you saw someone in need of a friend and you strived to fill the hole in his heart. And part of me is so proud of you for that. But another part of me is incredibly angry at you for the position you put me and our house in. A feud? Really Susan?”

“He deserved it,” Susan insists. “Ronald Weasley deserved it.”

“But did Ginny Weasley deserve it? Or did Percy Weasley?”

Susan flinches before shaking her head again.

“No, of course they didn't. But the feud would have affected them too. Did you even think about that?”

“No,” Susan admits. “I did not.”

“At least you are honest,” Amelia says. “Answer me this, if it were your choice, what would you do? Would you keep our alliance with the Potters, or would you abandon the alliance for Harry?”

“Harry is my friend,” Susan answers. “That is what is most important.”

Amelia nods. “I understand. And one day, it may very well come to that. But today is not that day. And your actions today, as much as I understand them, must have consequences.”

Susan nods. “Of course Aunt Ami.”

“Good. Your punishment will be that you will not be allowed to see your friends until September 1st, when you can meet them at King’s Crossing. You may send each of them one letter, explaining the circumstances behind your punishment. During this time, I expect for you to develop a full lesson plan for Heir Potter. No need for him to suffer due to your mistakes.”

Susan nods, tears filling her eyes. “I understand Aunt Ami. Can I go write my letters?”

“Of course sweetheart.”

Susan gives her aunt a hesitant hug, that Amelia quickly returns, before rushing out of the room.

Amelia sighs, reaching into her desk and pulling out a bottle of fire whiskey, pouring herself a rather large glass.

“Oh Susan, the position you’ve placed our family in. Not with your actions, but with your heart.”

Amelia knows that Susan will be completely determined to stand at Harry’s side, despite the potential consequences. And Amelia can’t fault Susan for her choice.

She just wishes that Susan hadn’t made her decision so damn fast and acted on it just as quickly.

Amelia downs her glass, pouring herself another.

________________________________________
August 13th, 1991

Dear Harry,

I am not sure if you know what unfolded yesterday during the gathering at Potter Manor. If you have not, please consult with Hannah. She will be able to explain it better than I could over a letter.

I am sorry for the way I acted, and I sincerely hope that my actions have no backlash onto you. I don’t foresee any major consequences, but Heir Ron Weasley may dislike you a bit more now. And for my role in that, I apologize.

But I do not regret my action. I need you to understand Harry, that despite the consequences it had on me, I would make the same choices again. I would defend you, my friend, again.

I hope that you can forgive my rashness.

Unfortunately, as part of my punishment, I will not be allowed to see my friends again until we start at Hogwarts. I am only allowed to send this letter thanks to leniency from my Aunt.

I will be working on a lesson plan for you over my confinement, and I expect you to be ready to continue our lessons when we arrive at Hogwarts. I will likely be sending you books to read in the meantime, and I expect detailed notes.

I am sorry that we will not get to spend more time together over the remainder of the summer, but I am looking forward to meeting with you and the rest of our friends again on September 1st. Until then, stay safe and know that you have a friend in me Harry.

With warm regards,

Susan Bones

________________________________________

Astoria and Tracey wait on Daphne’s bed as the girl sits at her desk, reading the letter Ginny wrote to Astoria.

“Interesting,” Daphne notes. “I wasn’t aware that Heir Apparent Bones was so bold. And she handled herself quite impressively. This changes things.”

“Again?” Tracey asks.

“How?” Astoria also asks.

“Susan Bones may be more interesting than I originally thought. Not as interesting as the two of you or Harry, but still worth reevaluating my plans.”

“Do you think some of your interest in Susan may be because of her friendship with Harry?” Tracey asks.

“Quite possibly,” Daphne agrees. “But that’s of no matter. Susan Bones is a hufflepuff, through and through. She will stick with Harry now. She made her decision yesterday, when she protected Harry’s honor. I have no doubt that we will be dealing with Susan in the future, since she is now a friend of our friend.”

“What about the rest of them?” Astoria asks. “The other future hufflepuffs? Hannah Abbott, Michael Thorne-Diggory, and Rolf Scamander?”

“I think they are the same as Susan,” Tracey pipes up.

Daphne appears to not fully agree. “That remains to be seen. This much is clear though, the first few months at Hogwarts are going to be very interesting.”

“I hate when she does that,” Astoria whispers to Tracey.

“I heard that.”

“Bugger,” Astoria curses, prompting laughter from Tracey.

________________________________________

Adrian Greengrass stares at the letter in front of him.

A verbal promise is one thing, but to get written confirmation that the Abbotts will switch to the Grey Alliance is practically worth the parchments weight in gold. And the owl that delivered that letter.

Now, all Adrian has to do is help find Marlene McKinnon. And help Harry, should he be sorted into Slytherin when he reaches Hogwarts.

The second task is easy. Adrian already intended to do so, but even if he did not, Daphne is clearly invested in Harry’s future.

The first task, however, is more difficult.

If Serena is asking for help finding Marlene, then she must be hidden rather well. Serena Abbott is a very capable witch. She would not be requesting assistance unless it was truly needed.

Adrian may have to use quite a bit of galleons and resources locating her, but he will find Marlen McKinnon.

And if he plays his cards right, he could strengthen the Grey Alliance by 18 votes.

Afterall, Marlene McKinnon was quite protective of her godson before her disappearance, and if Adrian can convince her that the Grey Alliance has the boy’s best interest in mind, then she’ll vote in lockstep with the rest of the alliance.

Of course, all of this rests on convincing Harry to turn towards the Grey Alliance. And deepening the boy’s friendship with Daphne and Tracey.

Somehow, the entire future of the Grey Alliance rests on Heir Potter’s shoulders.

Quite impressive for a boy who has only known about the wizarding world for the past two weeks.

Chapter Text

August 18, 1991

Cedric finds Michael in his room, staring at a blank parchment, quill in hand.

“Michael?” Cedric asks, knocking on the open door.

Michael is clearly startled, but he recovers quickly. He waves Cedric in, and Cedric closes the door behind him.

“Is that a letter to Pansy?” Cedric asks, pointing at the blank parchment.

Michael sighs. “It’s supposed to be. I haven’t gotten very far.”

“Michael, it’s blank.”

“Yeah, I know that Cedric. Thanks for telling me the obvious.”

Cedric smirks at his stepbrother, ruffling his hair. “That’s my job little bro.”

“Yeah, then what’s mine?”

“To be a pest-”

“Really? I can definitely do that.”

Cedric rolls his eyes, ignoring Michael. “A pest who I love and protect, even from our parents.”

Michael grimaces at the thought of Amos being considered “his parent” but Cedric ruffles his hair again before he can think about it much further.

“Stop that! You know I hate that.”

“Duh. That’s why I do it.”

“How did you live without a brother to annoy daily?”

“Those were dark times Michael. Very dark times indeed. I try not to think about them much,” Cedric jokes, though Michael can sense a tone in his stepbrother’s voice that stops him from teasing further.

“Just, can you help me?” Michael asks. “I need some brotherly advice, alright?”

“Of course,” Cedric says, pulling up a chair to sit next to Michael at the boy’s desk. “First, let’s go over why you are writing this letter.”

“You know why I’m writing this letter Cedric. Because Harry is my friend and I’m really worried about what will happen to him after he’s sorted. Harry has gone through enough, he needs as much protection as possible if the worst happens.”

“First of all, we both know Harry can protect himself. He may seem fragile, but that boy has clearly lived through more than we can even imagine. He wouldn’t have been able to make it through the last few weeks if he wasn’t incredibly strong. But not only has he made it through, he’s taken it in stride. So, adjust the last part of your statement, because yes, Harry is your friend, and yes, you are worried about what will happen after he’s sorted, and Harry has most definitely gone through enough. But does he really need protection?”

“Are you saying we shouldn’t protect Harry?”

“On the contrary Michael, I personally have wanted to swaddle Harry in a insanely and hilariously large number of blankets and protect him from all of the dangers of this world since we first met the boy. He has been hurt, discarded, abused, and mistreated for his entire life and he still manages to wake up every day and brighten up other peoples’ lives with his endearing presence. But he is also intelligent, adaptable, and also very powerful as far as magic is concerned if my encounters with him are any indication. He clearly deserves as much protection as we can give him, but he certainly doesn’t need it. Now, I’m only pointing this out so we can get to the real reason why you are writing this letter. So, Michael, does Harry really need protection, or do you just want to give it to him?”

Michael’s face falters. “I just want to give it to him.”

Cedric nods. “Ok, now next question? Why now?”

“Because we are getting ready to head to Hogwarts and the sorting is coming up.”

“Ok, but you could have written to Pansy last week. Or two weeks ago, after the day you spent with Harry, Hannah, Rolf, and Susan at Abbott Manor. Or you could’ve done it after Harry wrote to you the night after the two of you met. You could’ve even done it the day you met Harry. So, why now?”

Michael bristles, staring at his stepbrother. “You know why.”

“Yes I do but do you?”

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Screw you.”

“Michael, just answer the question,” Cedric insists.

“Why?”

“Just trust me Michael, I’m trying to help you realize something. Just answer the question.”

“Because of Susan, alright! Because of what she did for Harry. She barely knew Harry, yet she went to war for him. She put her house on the line for him. She almost declared a feud for him. She did everything for him, and I couldn’t even write a freaking letter! I’m supposed to protect Harry. I met him first, I needed to be the first to do something to stand up for him. If I had been there, I would’ve-”

“Gotten disowned,” Cedric finishes. “You would’ve gotten disowned Michael. You would’ve cursed Ron as well. No one is doubting that. Hannah would’ve cursed Ron. Rolf may not have cursed Ron, but he probably would’ve punched Ron. If I heard any of Ron’s idiotic story, I would have cursed Ron. No one doubts that you would’ve cursed Ron, but the consequences would have been much more severe. Susan is the sole heir to a Most Ancient and Noble family. You are the stepchild and ward of an Ancient and Noble family, and the distant possible heir of an Ancient family. That’s it. Dad would’ve had to disown you to save face, and Catherine wouldn’t have been able to do anything but divorce dad to take care of you, and your distant family would have ensured that you had no attachments to them. That’s what would’ve happened Michael. What Susan did was brave and loyal and foolhardy and stupid, and she was the only one who could do it. Just like you are the only one who can do this. So, get over your jealousy that someone might be just as close to Harry as you are and write the letter you want to write.”

Michael nods, picking up his quill, but Cedric stops him by grabbing his hand, squeezing it supportively.

“Why are you afraid to write the letter? What are you scared of Michael?”

“I’m not scared,” Michael protests weakly. “I’m not.”

“Michael, what are you scared of?” Cedric asks again, pulling his brother’s chair closer.

“Mom,” Michael answers. “If mom knew, she would be furious. She hates Uncle Cedar, and for good reason. It’s just … ever since my dad died and for as long as I’ve been alive, mom has seen the world in such black and white. According to everyone from her life before my dad died, she wasn’t like that. But now, she’s pushed all of her family and former friends away. She’s made friends with fanatics, those that hate the dark with such a fiery burning passion, and anyone that can even be associated with them. She hates slytherins. She hates them. She’ll hate Harry. Harry’s going to be in Slytherin, and she’s going to hate him, Cedric. And I don’t know what to do. It sounds stupid, but Harry is probably one of my best friends already. All I want to do is help him and protect him and show him that he’s worth it, but people will hate him because of where he’s going to be sorted. Mom will hate him because of where he’s going to be sorted and he doesn’t deserve that! He doesn’t! No one does! He doesn’t deserve to get judged because of something he can’t control, and I don’t understand how they can judge him like that. I don’t understand how people can see the world in only black and white, when it’s grey Cedric. It’s so fucking grey. And I just want mom to see that, but I know she won’t.”

Tears are pouring down Michael’s as he finishes his rant, and Cedric is quick to pull him into a tight hug. Michael buries his face in his stepbrother’s shoulder, clinging to Cedric.

“You would make a fine slytherin, if that’s what you wanted,” Cedric says.

Michael stiffens, but Cedric just holds him closer and hums a soothing tone until the boy starts to calm down again.

“You would make a fine slytherin if that’s what you wanted. Even a great one. Or you could be a great gryffindor. And you could easily be a great hufflepuff.”

“Not Ravenclaw?” Michael asks, his question muffled with his face still pressed against Cedric’s shoulder

“Merlin no. You could never.”

Michael laughs, and Cedric chuckles along with him, before pressing on.

“You can be great Michael, regardless of what house you are sorted into. Frankly, it doesn’t matter what house you are sorted into to me. I think the whole system is crap.”

Michael is mildly surprised at that, but he doesn’t dare press Cedric for answers now.

“But you’ll go into Hufflepuff because it’s what’s easiest. And Harry will probably go into Slytherin because he’s not afraid to take a hard path. So the real question you have to ask yourself Michael, is what path do you want to take?”

“I can’t go into Slytherin Cedric. I just can’t. Mom and Amos will disown me.”

“I’m not telling you to,” Cedric says. “Personally, I would send you to Gryffindor before Slytherin, even though I think they are just as bad. I know you’ll be a hufflepuff, you’ll make a great hufflepuff, and I’ll be proud to be your ste- no, not stepbrother, I’ll be proud to be your brother. What I’m asking you is, what are you going to do when standing by Harry becomes the more difficult path? Are you going to protect yourself, your family, and your other friends first? Or are you going to put yourself on the line to protect Harry?”

“I- I don’t know yet.”

“Good, I didn't expect you too,” Cedric says. “I just want you to think about that, until the day comes when you’ll have to make a decision.”

Cedric gives Michael one last tight squeeze, before letting go of his brother. “Now, don’t you have a letter to write?”

Michael nods, moving back over to his desk and picking up his quill.

“Hey Michael,” Cedric says, as he gets ready to leave the room. “Just know that I love you, little brother.”

“I love you too, big brother.”

Cedric smiles as he leaves the room, leaving Michael to his letter.

Dear Pansy,

I’m calling in my favor …

________________________________________
August 19, 1991

Harry is waiting in the floo room of Abbott Manor, with both Hannah and Serena by his side.

Harry can’t help but fidget as he anxiously awaits Emmeline Vance’s arrival.

“Harry?” Serena asks. “Is everything alright?”

Harry nods, before his face falters. “Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

Hannah stares at Harry inquisitively, reaching out to grab his hand. Harry smiles at her, squeezing her hand tightly.

“Are you nervous?” Hannah asks.

“Yes. She seemed very nice in her letter, but she also called me family. I don’t have a very good track record with family, at least not face-to-face.”

Serena reaches over, pulling Harry into a one arm hug as Hannah grips his hand even tighter.

“It’s ok to be nervous Harry. But you don’t have to be. Emmeline is one of the good ones. Trust me.”

Harry nods. He can do that. He can trust Serena.

If he can’t trust her, he can’t really trust anyone. So he can trust her.

“Ok,” Harry says, still clearly nervous but trying his best to get a handle on those nerves. Hannah and Serena don’t move, keeping Harry close to them.

It’s almost five minutes later when the floo activates and a woman around Serena’s age exits the floo.

She has short dirty blonde hair that stops just above her shoulders. She is quite tall, easily standing over Serena and probably Mitchell as well, if he were in the room. And she has an athletic build that Harry can see, even with the robes she is wearing. She is a bit tanner than most of the wizards and witches Harry has met, and she has a face that looks like it could easily alternate between kind and intimidating.

Emmeline turns to stare at Harry. Her eyes widen and her face softens.

“Harry,” Emmeline says, her voice almost cracking as tears start to fill her eyes. Harry doesn’t know what prompts him to action, but he’s soon worked his way out of the comforting hold that Hannah and Serena had him in and is quickly moving over to Emmeline.

Emmeline breaks out into a stride, pulling Harry into a tight hug when she reaches him.

Harry doesn’t quite know how to react, but he knows that Emmeline needs this. And Harry is not one to complain about being given hugs after lacking them for so many years.

“Oh Harry,” Emmeline cries, burying her face in Harry’s hair as she hugs him close. “I’m so sorry Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m ok,” Harry says. “I’m safe. I’m right here.”

Those appear to have been the right words to say, as Emmeline just nods and hugs him impossibly closer. “And thank Merlin for that.

Harry just relaxes into her arms, allowing his honorary aunt to be comforted by him and allowing himself to be comforted in return.

________________________________________

Harry sits across from Emmeline, with Hannah firmly at his side. Serena is sitting next to Emmeline, as Pixie and Dixie clean up what remains after their lunch.

“Emmeline, can I ask you a question?” Harry asks.

“Of course Harry,” Emmeline answers immediately. “Anything.”

“When Jacob wrote to me, he mentioned a few people, but there was one he specifically told me not to write to. And he mentioned my godmother, Marlene, but not my godfather. Do you know why?”

Serena and Emmeline both tense at the mention of Harry’s godfather, confusing both the teens.

“Mom?” Hannah questions. “Who is Harry’s godfather?”

Serena opens her mouth to answer, but only a sigh comes out.

“I’m sorry Harry,” Emmeline says. “But your godfather … his name is Sirius Black-”

Hannah’s loud gasp distracts Harry for a moment before he turns back to Emmeline.

“And he is in a wizarding prison known as Azkaban. He has been there for over a decade, after he betrayed your parents, got your Uncle Peter Pettigrew killed, and almost led to both you and your brother dying as well.”

Harry stares at Emmeline in shock, looking to Serena for answers. Serena gives Harry a sad look, reaching across the table to place her hand on top of Harry’s, but Harry jerks his hand back before she can.

“Explain,” Harry demands.

“Harry, I know this is a lot to process-” Serena starts to say.

“Tell me!” Harry yells, and all three women flinch back in shock.

Hannah almost instinctively scoots her chair away from Harry as magic practically radiates off the boy.

“Harry sweetheart, we will, just please, you are scaring Hannah,” Serena says as gently as she can manage.

Truthfully, even leaning into Harry’s general vicinity makes Serena’s skin crawl as magic swirls around the boy.

Emmeline shivers before noticing that her wand is out of her holster and into her hand. She quickly holsters it. Harry isn’t a threat. He isn’t. He’s just a boy.

Even if his magic gives her a chill she has only experienced when working with some of her strongest peers and facing some of her strongest enemies. And given Emmeline’s tenure as a hitwitch, that statement means more than it would for a normal witch or wizard.

Harry turns over to look at Hannah, who fights the urge to flinch back as Harry’s gaze turns onto her.

There is a split second where Hannah can feel only panic, before Harry’s eyes soften.

And Hannah relaxes with Harry, the formerly oppressive magic still very much invading her space as it surrounds Harry.

But now it’s surrounding her too, almost trying to comfort Hannah.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says to Hannah, and the girl can almost hear the crack in his voice.

Hannah scoots her chair even closer than it was before, reaching over and gripping Harry’s hand tightly. “No need to apologize Harry. I’m good.”

Harry nods, giving her a weak smile, before turning to the much more relaxed Emmeline and Serena.

Serena is feeling something very similar to Hannah, as Harry’s magic that once threatened to push her away almost seems to pull her in. The same oppressive magic that made her skin crawl is now leaving with her a warmth that pulsates as it starts to slowly evaporate.

For Emmeline, the magic seems to change from feeling dangerous and unhinged to more relaxed and unintimidating. It’s still clearly there, even as it starts to disappear as Harry calms even more, but it no longer feels like a threat or even a warning. Emmeline isn’t drawn to the magic like Serena and Hannah are, but she’s able to relax in its presence.

“I’m sorry about my outburst,” Harry apologizes. “My emotions are just rather … intense given everything that has happened in the last few weeks. But still, could you please explain further.”

Emmeline nods. “Of course Harry. I don’t know all the details, but I know more than most. You see, your father had three best friends during his time at Hogwarts. There was Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin-”

“That’s the one that Jacob told me not to write to,” Harry interrupts. “Apparently he’s Charles’ godfather.”

“Yes he is, but not a very good one,” Emmeline says. “Jacob was probably right to tell you not to contact Remus, at least not at first. But going back to the story, the last friend of your father’s was Sirius Black, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.”

Harry frowns. “But I thought they were a dark family. How could my da- James be friends with someone from that faction? He hates the Greengrasses and they are only Grey.”

“That’s a bit more complicated,” Serena answers for Emmeline. “But Sirius was a bit of a rebel when he was in Hogwarts. Absolutely hated all of his family, save for a few members-”

“Like Andromeda Tonks?” Harry guesses. “Jacob mentioned they were related.”

“Yes, like her,” Serena says. “So, back in Hogwarts, Sirius completely rejected his family. So much so that his mother cast him out and he went to live with James and your grandparents. For the longest time, those two were as close as they could possibly be. Practically brothers. Sirius was James' most trusted friend, and the one James chose to be the secret keeper of the house that your parents, your brother, and you were staying at during the Reign of Terror. Dumbledore used a spell, known as the Fidelus Charm, to hide the house, and only Sirius could reveal the location. On the night of Peter’s death, your parents were at a meeting of fellow resistance members-”

“The Order of the Phoenix,” Harry says.

Emmeline and Serena both stare at Harry in shock.

Harry just shrugs. “One of the books I took from the Potter library mentioned it. Its public knowledge, even if the identities of the members aren’t.”

Emmeline and Serena nod, and Emmeline picks up where Serena left off.

“Well, apparently when your parents were gone, they left Peter to watch you both. And Sirius gave up the location of the house to You-know-who. Sirius killed Peter Pettigrew, not even leaving a body behind. You-know-who was going to kill both you and Charles to get to your parents, but somehow the curse deflected and killed you-know-who instead, and Sirius was arrested and sent to Azkaban.”

“Wait, is that why Charles is the boy-who-lived?” Harry asks.

“Yes,” Serena answers. “For a long time, we thought that You-know-who was unstoppable. Many of us were preparing to flee the country to protect ourselves and our families before he died.”

Harry nods. “Ok, so I have a godfather, who tried to have me and Charles killed. That tracks. What about this other guy, Charles’ godfather? What’s wrong with him?”

Serena and Emmeline both share a look, before turning back to Harry.

“Remus suffers from an affliction,” Emmeline answers. “And as a result, he believes he is a danger to both you and Charles. It’s a crummy excuse in my opinion, but it’s the one he’s given. He’s been out of basically everyone’s lives since Sirius was revealed to be a traitor and sent to prison.”

“Supposedly he still contacts the Potters,” Serena continues. “I believe he sends Rose and Charles gift for their birthdays and Christmas-”

Harry scoffs, and all three of the women in the room shoot him sad glances but Harry just waves them off.

“-But he hasn’t actually seen them in person for years.”

“Ok, I definitely see why Jacob advised me not to send him a letter. Sounds like it would have been a waste of parchment. And I don’t care to send Hedwig on a fool’s errand as I try to get in contact with another ‘family member’ who doesn’t give a damn about me. So I’ll have to thank him. I need to write to Jacob soon anyways. It’s been a few days already.”

Hannah is shocked by the vitriol in Harry’s voice, but Emmeline and Serena aren’t as surprised. Truthfully, they are more surprised that Harry isn’t angrier than he already is.

“I think I’m going to go outside and just sit for a while. I need to think. Clear my head. Hannah, do you want to come with me?”

Hannah nods, standing up to join Harry.

Harry smiles at Emmeline. “Thank you for coming Emm- Aunt Emme. I really enjoyed spending time with a family member who cares about me, even if I don’t really know how to deal with it yet.”

Emmeline nods, tears starting to flood her eyes. “No, thank you Harry, for reaching out to me after I failed you so egregiously. I promise, I will never fail you again. I will do my best to care for you and to help you in any way I can. Whatever you need Harry, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Harry nods, tears starting to fill his eyes as well. “Thank you. I … words can’t begin to describe how thankful I am to you, Aunt Emme. Thankful to know that someone at least tried and will continue to do so.”

“Anything for you Harry. If I could just ask one small favor? Could I hug you one more time?”

Harry nods, and Emmeline quickly wraps Harry into a tight embrace. Harry leans into Emmeline, hugging her just as close.

“Whatever you need Harry, I’m here. I promise. It’s the least I can do.”

Harry just nods in response, tears still stinging his eyes.

Emmeline eventually lets go of Harry, allowing for the boy to grab Hannah’s hand and drag them both outside.

Emmeline watches the two walk together off before she starts to wipe away her tears.

“He’s very accepting of physical affection,” Emmeline notes. “More than I thought he would be. I was prepared to not be able to hug him today, or at least not for very long. But he seemed to need the hugs almost as much as I did.”

Serena nods. “He’s clearly touch-starved. Almost everyone one of his friends is quick to hold his hand or pull him into a hug when they see him. Especially Hannah, Michael, and Tracey. Susan and Rolf will as well, and Daphne rarely but she still does.”

“What’s going on there?” Emmeline asks, with a teasing smirk on her face.

Serena shrugs. “I honestly have no idea. I’m half convinced that the only friend of his that isn’t at least somewhat considering with the idea of dating Harry is Susan, which is hilarious since Harry is practically enamored with Heir Apparent Bones after what she did for him a few weeks ago.”

Emmeline nods. “I heard about what happened. It was impressive what she did. Incredibly brave.”

“More loyal than brave,” Serena disagrees. “That girl has a loyalty streak a mile wide. I just hope Hannah takes after her in that regard, once the pair eventually and inevitably bond.”

“They haven’t yet?”

“There hasn’t been time,” Serena answers. “It was supposed to happen around the time Harry arrived in our lives, and Susan has been grounded ever since the incident.”

“That makes sense. But I wouldn’t be too worried. Hannah takes after you and Mitchell. And that girl is clearly already loyal to Harry. I’m sure she’ll be the perfect hufflepuff.”

“I hope so.”

“So, what was this other thing you wanted to discuss with me?”

Serena sighs. “Emmeline, when was the last time you heard from Marlene?”

Emmeline frowns. “A few years ago. Maybe four or five? Why, is something wrong?”

“Harry wrote to her. And his owl couldn’t find her.”

Emmeline stares at Serena for a few moments, before cursing.

________________________________________
August 20, 1991

Dear Michael Thorne-Diggory,

I must say that your letter was quite … intriguing. You seem to have formed quite the attachment with this Harry Potter. How deep does the attachment go, I wonder?

I am surprised that you are calling in your favor now. I thought that you Hufflepuffs helped others without the need for a favor in return.

Though, I’m beginning to think that all of you future hufflepuffs may have some slytherin tendencies. The political maneuvering that Heir Apparent Bones did last week was masterful. She cursed an heir of a Minor Noble house and managed to shift the blame entirely off of herself and onto her victim. Quite devious.

And you, writing this letter and using the political capital that you have carefully cultivated. Even your bonded, Rolf Scamander, is known to use his connections and those of his cousin, Anthony Goldstein, when needed.

Fear not dear cousin. I have no doubt that all three of you and dear Heiress Abbott will all be sorted into Hufflepuff.

Yet you think that this new friend of yours will go into Slytherin even though the consequences may be even more severe for him than they could be for the rest of you? You think highly of him, that much is certain. I wish you the best of luck in courting him. His favor that is. I’m not insinuating anything of course. And even if I were, you wouldn’t understand because as you and your friends so strongly demand, none of you are, or will ever be, slytherins.

The truth hurts Michael. Just how long will you spend running from yours, I wonder? What consequences will you face? What consequences will your new friend face because you’re afraid?

Life is a series of decisions dear cousin, and I do not wish to see you make the wrong one. After all, you are my favorite cousin. Not that there’s much competition. Your competitors are the YAXLEYS. Ew.

I know I am probably grating on your nerves severely at this point, but yes, I do agree on a trial basis. Of course, to meet in person to make this arrangement more permanent. I’ll see you on the 23rd at noon at the Scamander Reserve. Bring Cedric, Rolf, and Anthony with you but not Heiress Abbott or the boy in question. I do wish Heir Apparent Bones could join us, but I heard she is on house arrest for the entire summer. Pity.

Also, I must be told all the information you have pertaining to Harry’s apparent friendship with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. I’m not asking.

Oh and yes, I did intentionally choose a day I knew you were planning to be spending with Harry for this meeting. Deal with it. And don’t tell your little boy-toy where you’re going that day. See if he can figure it out on his own. Keep him on his toes.

I will be prompt.

Sincerely,

Your Favorite Cousin, Pansy Parkinson

________________________________________
August 21, 1991

Dear Jacob Potter,

Part of me is questioning why I’m even writing this letter. I still hold contempt for you, and we will likely never be friends like we once were.

But then I remember what it felt like to hold Harry in my arms for the first time in over a decade, and I remember that him reaching out to me was due to you.

And I just to thank you Jacob. Thank you for bringing Harry back into my life. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

So, while we may never be friends again, I now consider us allies. Because we need to protect that boy Jacob. We need to care for him and be the family he’s never had before.

And if you ever hurt him Jacob, I swear I will hunt you down and cut off your balls. And we both know that I am capable of it. Because that boy has had enough family members hurt him already.

But still, thank you.

And also fuck you! Who the hell signs up for a two-year non-negotiable mission with GRINGOTTS? What were you thinking Jacob? I know you couldn’t have predicted Harry returning to us, but still. You better find a way to make it up to that boy when you get back after two years.

Tell Ivy and the others to keep you alive because you can’t die on us Jacob. Not when Harry needs you.

Truthfully, I don't think Harry needs any of us. He is stronger than I can even explain. His strength is quiet yet loud at the same time. If I had gone through half of what Harry has gone through, I would never recover, yet he just keeps going.

And his magic … Jacob, his magic is unexplainable. By all accounts, his magical core is quite average, if not above average for a muggle-raised wizard, but when he was upset during my visit, magic seemed to appear and cling to him. And while it appeared hostile at first, as soon as he realized he was frightening Serena’s daughter, the magic changed almost immediately and felt peaceful. I don’t know how to explain it Jacob, it was truly incredible. And neither Serena nor I have any answer on how it’s even possible.

While I was at Abbott Manor, I also learned another disturbing piece of news, one that Serena says I should share with you. Harry tried to write to Marlene after your letter, he actually reached out to everyone on your list, but Marlene’s letter was returned unopened. Apparently his owl was unable to locate her. Serena is putting together a group to look for Marlene, but if anyone on your team has any possible answers or solutions, please let me or Serena know immediately.

Once again Jacob, thank you for leading Harry to me. I am truly grateful.

And also, don’t you dare do anything to hurt Heir Apparent Weasley. Harry is quite fond of Bill’s younger brother and sister and I would hate to have to rearrange your spine because you hurt someone again.

Sincerely,

Hitwitch Emmeline Vance

Jacob sets down the letter with a frown on his face.

“Jacob?” Bill asks. “What’s wrong?”

“David, Ivy, continue working on the charm. I need a way to communicate with Harry as soon as possible. Anita and Bill, do either of you know anything about owl redirection wards? Especially those that are cast without the person’s knowledge.”

Everyone in the group frowns at Jacob.

“A little,” Anita answers. “I can do some research in our free time, with Bill’s help of course. Who are we looking for?”

“Harry’s godmother, Marlene McKinnon.”

Ivy curses. “That boy just can’t catch a break.”

Jacob can’t help but agree.

Chapter Text

August 23, 1991

“It’s strange that Michael and Rolf were suddenly busy, right?” Harry asks Hannah as the two walk down Diagon Alley. “And both of your parents too.”

Hannah shrugs. “It’s not completely normal, but it’s not that unusual either.”

“Yeah, but none of them would tell us where they were going. That’s got to be strange. Your dad even let us visit Diagon Alley just to distract us.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely different. I’m not really sure what to think of it. It’s almost like they are all keeping secrets.”

“Do you think we have to be worried?” Harry asks.

“No, of course not,” Hannah answers. “Michael and Rolf are our friends, and my parents wouldn’t do anything to hurt either of us. Mom loves you just like you are her own, and dad cares for you too.”

“Well, I still don’t like it,” Harry says. “People keeping secrets from me. It makes me feel useless. And I hate not knowing everything. I swear, ever since I got to this world, I have been struggling day and night to keep up with it. Every time I think I have something figured out, something new comes out and whams me in the face.”

“Well, I think you are doing a really good job Harry. I wouldn’t be half as capable as you if I were in your place.”

“Thanks Hannah. And hey, at least you aren’t keeping secrets from me. That’s something at least.”

Hannah bites her bottom lip and resists the urge to look away from Harry. Harry doesn’t even notice, just walking down the alley, eyes straight forward.

Hannah sometimes wishes she wasn’t keeping any secrets from Harry, but she can’t possibly tell him. Or anyone else for that matter. Especially not Michael. Michael might be worse than Harry.

“Can we go to Flourish and Blotts before lunch?” Harry asks Hannah.

Hannah is pulled from her thoughts, giggling at Harry’s question. “Like you need more books Harry.”

“Of course I do!” Harry exclaims, a scandalous look on his face. “My library trunk finally came in earlier this week and it’s practically empty. Even with all of the books I’ve been gifted and the ones I took from the Potter Library, I barely have filled up even one shelf! It’s tragic.”

Hannah rolls her eyes at her friend. “Fine Harry. We can go to Flourish and Blotts. But for no more than 30 minutes.”

“An hour,” Harry counters.

“45 minutes,” Hannah says.

Harry nods. “I can accept that. Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait Harry, do you even have any gold on you?” Hannah asks.

Harry nods. “Yeah, about 30 galleons. If I need more, we can just go to Gringotts and I can stop by my trust vault.”

Hannah nods. She hopes Harry doesn’t spend more than 30 galleons on books today, but it’s certainly a possibility.

Harry walks into a Flourish and Blotts, and immediately makes a beeline to the back of the store, also known as the “muggleborn section”.

It's a little room filled to the brim with books that are meant to introduce muggleborn and muggle raised wizards and witches to wizarding society. Serena had to practically drag Harry out of the room the last time they came.

Hannah just sighs and quickly follows Harry.

Harry walks into the room, surprised to find someone else already in it. The little room is basically a broom closet with a few shelves, and it’s been empty all of the other times Harry has come. According to Serena, it’s not that popular of a section given the small number of muggleborn and muggle-raised witches and wizards entering their world every year, but it was required for any bookstore in Diagon Alley to have a section of books so that new magicals could learn more about wizarding society. Flourish and Blotts complies with the law but does so by cramming all of the books into a broom closet that can be ignored by the vast majority of patrons.

So it’s usually empty.

But today, someone is standing in the room. A girl about Harry’s age, with straight black hair that falls just past her shoulders. She’s a bit shorter than Harry, but not as thin or pale. She’s also wearing normal or muggle clothes, instead of the robes Harry has gotten accustomed too over the last few weeks.

“Hello,” Harry says, holding his hand out to the girl. “My name is Heir Harry Potter. Are you a muggleborn?”

Hannah reaches the room but decides to just wait for Harry to eventually introduce her.

The girl nods, reaching out to shake Harry’s hand. “Yes, my name is Morag McDougal. Pleasure to meet you Heir Potter.”

Harry smiles at the girl. She’s clearly been doing her reading.

“Pleasure is all mine Miss McDougal. Please, call me Harry. I’m muggle-raised as well, so despite my title, I’m just as new to all of this as you are.”

Harry briefly notes the single mark on her arm and resists the urge to frown. One is a small number for someone their age, even if it’s one more than he has. Morag is similarly staring at Harry’s arm, frowning at his lack of marks.

“Well, it’s good to hear that I’m not alone,” Morag says, pulling her eyes away from Harry’s arm and trying to focus on the conversation instead. “And please, just call me Morag.”

“Of course. And this is my friend, Heiress Hannah Abbott. She was raised in the wizarding world.”

“Pleased to meet you Miss McDougal. Please call me Hannah.”

Morag exchanges pleasantries with Hannah and allows the girl to call her by her first name as well.

“Anything good?” Harry asks, though he’s clearly more on edge than he was before he entered the room.

Hannah frowns at her friend, wondering what happened in the last few minutes to change his mood.

Morag just nods. “Yeah, a few things. Though, I’ve been taking my time looking through them. I’ve only got a limited amount of … what are they called?”

“Galleons,” Hannah answers. “Or Sickles, or Knuts, depending on what you have.”

“Sickles then. The middle one, and like three galleons. So I don’t have that much money to spend, but my dad isn’t going to be back for another few hours, so I’ve just been slowly reading through them. I've been in the store for almost two hours already. No one really comes back here.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, apparently they only have a place like this because Wizengamot made it a law that every bookstore that’s in the alley has to have a section of books for educating those new to wizarding society, like us.”

“Makes sense, but it’s still helpful. I would have been so lost without these books.”

“Trust me,” Harry says. “I completely understand. I have people helping me and even a tutor, but I still feel so lost all the time.”

“Me too,” Morag agrees. “I got so many weird looks today when I came to the alley, but I didn't realize that robes were for everyday wear too, instead of just uniforms.”

“They kind of are,” Hannah says. “They are everyday wear for when you are out in public, but in your home, the outfits more closely resemble mugglewear.”

“I don’t get it either,” Harry says to Morag.

The two laugh for a few moments before they seem to almost catch themselves and quickly stop.

Harry once again stares down at Morag’s arms and her singular mark. It’s clearly a parental mark, and it’s not rare for someone to only have one parental mark, but it’s not common for someone to only have one mark at this age, and no non-familial or friendship marks.

Harry takes a closer look at the mark and almost winces when he notices the fraying around the edges of the mark. Her mark is fading. By the time she becomes an adult, she may not even have a bond anymore.

Morag is also staring at his arms again, and Harry is quick to hide them against his robes, subtly backing away from Morag.

“Sorry,” Morag apologizes. “It’s just … I’ve never seen someone with none before.”

Harry winces as tears start to sting his eyes. “It’s not something I’m very proud of.”

“Orphan?”

“No, but I might as well be. That’s a much longer story though.”

Morag nods. “I get it. My mom … she’s still alive, but she’s gone. I’ve just got my dad’s mark but …”

Morag’s bottom lip quivers. “I guess at least I’ve got one.”

Hannah watches as both Harry and Morag work themselves to tears as they talk about their bonds, or lack thereof.

Harry nods. “Yeah, at least you do.”

“It’s not that I’m a bad person,” Morag says immediately. “It just-”

“I get it,” Harry nods. “It’s hard when no one wants you around. It’s hard to make bonds when you have so few.”

Morag nods, staring at Harry with tears in her eyes.

“I really hate to break apart this tender moment,” Hannah says. “But I am hopelessly lost. I don’t understand, what’s so bad about having so few bonds?”

Morag and Harry both stare at Hannah in shock.

“Because if you don’t have bonds then you don’t have friends,” Harry says. “You don’t have family. You don’t have anyone. It’s like a permanent reminder of your own loneliness, and when you get older, people start to hold it against you, regardless of whether you deserve it or not.”

“Really?”

Morag nods. “It’s really hard to be around people sometimes when you don’t have a lot of marks. I’ve at least got my dad’s mark, but it’s fading. He doesn’t … he takes care of me because he has too and because I don’t take up much space, but he doesn’t really have time for me. No time to keep the bond strong.”

Harry nods. Even if he’s never had a bond before, he knows how they work. They can’t be formed immediately, but instead require a certain degree of patience and care. Six consecutive months of having someone in your life is generally an acceptable time frame, giving the potential bond between people enough time to develop. After that, the bond must be nurtured in order to stay intact. Constant communication isn’t required, but it is generally advisable for the people to meet in person once a year if they wish to keep the bond active. Other forms of communication can help, but physical contact is the strongest way to nurture the bond. After a few years, if the bond isn’t properly nurtured, it will fizzle away and the marks will disappear. With parental bonds, the process takes a few more years than with regular bonds, but they will eventually fade away as well.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says. “But I understand. My birth family … they sent me away. Even now that I’m considered ‘worthy’ thanks to me being a wizard, I’m still second-class in my own family.”

Besides a few letters exchanged with Rose, Harry has not heard from his family since he left Potter Manor.

“It’s really hard,” Harry says. “To find friends who don’t care about your lack of bonds. But I’ve finally managed to do it.”

Hannah smiles at Harry, taking his hand. “Of course Harry, but … I think we may be reaching another key difference between our world and the muggle world.”

Morag and Harry both frown at Hannah. “What do you mean?” Morag asks.

Hannah sighs. “This may be a long conversation. Merlin, I wish Susan were here instead, but I’ll have to do it instead. Can we go somewhere else? This might be a longer conversation and I think we may need to sit down.”

________________________________________

Pansy sits across from the four boys, a smirk plastered across her face.

Cedric Diggory barely even acknowledges Pansy. Cedric has an issue with how Pansy’s family has treated Michael over the years. Despite the fact that Michael is only the son of an Heiress of the Ancient House of Parkinson who refuses to claim her title, Michael should still be considered an Heir to the house. Or even Heir Apparent given that the House of Parkinson is one of many houses that do not allow girls to be the Heir Apparent of their house, unlike House Greengrass or Bones. By all accounts, Michael should be Heir Apparent of the Parkinson House, yet because of Pansy’s Aunt, Catherine Diggory, and her father, Lord Cedar Parkinson, Michael can only claim a relation to the house.

Personally, Pansy hates it as well. Her family is barely hanging on and the chances of her mother and father bearing another heir or heiress is little to none. There is a perfectly good Heir Apparent for her house, yet her father refuses to claim Michael because he wants to respect his sister’s wishes.

Pansy has spent enough time with Anthony Goldstein to tell that the boy is very intrigued. Anthony has a thirst for knowledge and gossip that surpasses her own. Being here must be exhilarating for Anthony.

Rolf is passive. He is always passive. Neither of Rolf’s grandparents are very expressive, though for completely different reasons. Regardless, Pansy has always had much respect for Lord and Lady Scamander, and the grandson they raised. Even though the family is a part of the Light Alliance.

Michael is clearly nervous, constantly fidgeting and toying with the hem of his robe. Pansy resists the urge to sigh. Sometimes her cousin has such strong slytherin tendencies, but other times he falls completely flat. Pansy does not understand it.

She still remembers when she first reached out to Michael. She grew up knowing she had a cousin that lived in America and an aunt who hated her father with a burning, fiery passion. Pansy reached out to Michael on a whim almost 4 years ago, either expecting to never hear back from him or to receive an angry letter in return.

Instead Michael wrote back promptly and opened a dialogue with her. He was willing to tell her what he could about life in MACUSA, but only in return for a favor. Pansy remembers the grin that crossed her face when she read the letter. Not only did she have a family member with more than two functioning brain cells, but he was oh so clever and cunning.

They exchanged almost weekly letters until they suddenly stopped two years ago. It was almost a month before Pansy learned that Michael moved to Britain after his mother married Amos Diggory.

Michael hated the move. He hated leaving his friends and his life behind. If it wasn’t for Rolf, his long-time pen pal, Pansy doesn’t know if Michael would’ve stayed sane. The two friends and pen pals bonded almost as soon as Michael reached Britain, the only concession Michael managed to get from his mother before they moved.

Since then, communication with her cousin has been spotty. Sometimes Michael will write to her weekly or even multiple times a week. And sometimes he won’t contact her for a month or two. They have even met a few times, always at the Scamander Reserve so Catherine Diggory doesn’t find out about their communication.

“So, you think this boy is going to be sorted into Slytherin? Even though he’s a Potter? How interesting,” Pansy says, breaking the silence.

“We don’t know for certain,” Michael says. “But it’s certainly a possibility.”

Pansy nods. “What do the three of you think?”

Anthony shrugs. “I haven’t met him in person yet, sadly. My summer has been quite packed. And besides, Harry is political quicksand to anyone in our age group that wants to stand with Charles Potter, and I haven’t seen enough evidence that Harry is worth that sacrifice. At least, not yet.”

Michael glares at Anthony, who just rolls his eyes in return. “It’s nothing personal Michael, I just don’t wish to cut off a connection I’ve been painfully making and maintaining for years now just because you think Harry is powerful and has a nice butt.”

Michael blushes, and even Cedric leans over to elbow his stepbrother teasingly.

“Anyways,” Rolf interrupts. “Personally, I think Slytherin is a strong possibility for Harry. The only other house I could reasonably see him being sorted into besides Slytherin is Ravenclaw, given his propensity for reading.”

“He’s certainly not going into Gryffindor,” Cedric notes. “Charles will be sorted first, and Harry will avoid any house his twin is sorted into. And Harry could be very loyal, but he’s not really been given a chance to show or prove that loyalty, since he’s never received even a scrap of loyalty before a month ago.”

Pansy sighs, shaking her head. “You are all so idiotic. I know I’m here to get information, but you all just really laid it out on the table for me. There’s no fun in that. I want to feel like I’m taking the information, not being given it freely.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Sod off Pansy. We’re not here for that.”

“Yeah yeah,” Pansy says, waving her hand away. “So, what exactly do you want from me? You and I both know that openly associating with Potter if he gets sorted into Slytherin would be political quicksand from me. The Parkinsons are part of the Dark Alliance, and I have to maintain my betrothal to Draco and the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. If I try to help him, I could be putting all that into jeopardy.”

“I know you can’t help Harry directly, but you can still help him,” Michael says. “As much as I hate to say it, besides Hufflepuff, Slytherin is the most loyal house. I know there are fights and political rivalries even within your house, but the slytherins always present a united front outside of their dorms. I know there are ways you can help him by leveraging the fact that you are helping the entire house.”

Pansy raises her brow. “That I can definitely do. Quite clever Michael, using Slytherin’s own policy of unity to decide how I can help Harry. I would be very willing to do exactly that, but we both know that’s not going to be enough for Harry to survive Slytherin. He needs people he can openly associate with.”

“The Greengrasses,” Cedric says. “Heir Apparent Greengrass and their ward, Heiress Davis, have both taken an interest in Harry. And where those two go-”

“The rest of the heirs of the grey houses should follow,” Pansy says. “It’s not many, only two others in Slytherin, but those two include a sixth-year prefect and our new quidditch captain. If he can get even acknowledgement from those two and he has a strong alliance with Daphne and Tracey, then he may just be ok. Blaise Sabine might despise him a bit, for taking a spot he wanted to hold with the two heiresses, but Harry has more political power than an Heir Apparent of an Aged House, even if his relationship with his family is rocky at best.”

“Not to mention his friendship with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass.”

Pansy narrows her eyes at Rolf. “So, is that official?”

“Harry has it in writing,” Michael answers.

Pansy stares at the boys in shock, and even Cedric’s eyes widen a bit at the news. “In writing?” He asks.

Anthony just looks giddy as he observes the conversation, mentally jotting down everything he is hearing.

“Has he spent any time in the Greengrass Manor?”

Michael nods. “At least three afternoons. Once with all of the Abbotts, once with just Hannah, and once with once by himself.”

Pansy nods. “Well then, it appears that Lord Greengrass’ offer of friendship was given in good faith. Did Harry accept?”

Cedric, Rolf, and Michael all exchange looks.

“We don’t actually know,” Michael says. “Harry refuses to talk about the Greengrasses with us. He doesn’t want to betray the confidence they’ve placed in him. And we are all from houses in the Light Alliance. Hannah may know a bit more than we do, but you wouldn’t let me invite her.”

All of the eyes are now turned onto Pansy, who bites back a groan. “I’m not apologizing. I have my reasons for not liking Heiress Abbott.”

Truthfully, Pansy doesn’t really dislike Hannah as much as she doesn’t trust the girl, especially when it comes to Michael’s heart. By all accounts, Hannah has been crushing hard on Michael since they first came to know each other two years ago. In proper form for a boy, Michael has been expertly clueless, but also slowly warming up to the idea. Until Harry showed up and Michael quickly diverted his focus towards the boy.

Pansy can’t help but be concerned about Hannah’s reaction, especially if the rumors that Hannah has developed yet another crush, this time on Harry ever since the boy has been hosted with the Abbotts. Hannah has always been a little more volatile than the rest of her friends. More gryiffindorish. Pansy is worried about how Hannah will handle both her crushes, especially with the rumors that Harry is popular with even more people than just Hannah and Michael.

Pansy doesn’t know enough about Harry to decide if he would be a good match for Michael or not, but the last thing Pansy wants to see is her cousin’s heart getting broken. And right now, Hannah seems like the most likely candidate to break Michael’s heart.

Michael looks slightly angry with Pansy, glaring at his cousin, before he relaxes. “Fine, we aren’t here to talk about your irrational dislike-”

Pansy scoffs.

“-of my friend anyways. I’ve told you everything I know about Harry’s relationship with the Greengrass family. So, will you do it? Will you help Harry if he is sorted into Slytherin?”

Pansy knows she can’t really say no. She offered Michael a blank offer of a favor all those years ago. It was an idiotic and childish decision, and she’s thankful she made the offer to Michael and not someone more devious. Pansy knows she can’t deny Michael and the favor he’s calling in. If she did, she would have to give him something he considers equal or greater value.

Which Pansy knows is almost nothing. Say what you will about her cousin, but he is fiercely loyal. He considers Harry’s safety paramount and Pansy would be hard pressed to find something more valuable to give to Michael.

And besides, it will be interesting to see how Harry reacts if he’s sorted into slytherin. She foresees one of three situations arising.

Harry could manage to assimilate into the house, against all odds. Or he could become an outcast within the Slytherin house. The third option is the most unlikely but still possible.

Harry Potter, if all of the rumors she’s hearing are true, could turn the Slytherin house on its head and either tear it apart or change it. Maybe even both.

No matter what, the next seven years are going to be very interesting if Harry is sorted into Slytherin.

“Of course Michael. I will help Harry to the best of my ability and without compromising my position within the Slytherin house. You have my word.”

________________________________________

Hannah, Morag, and Harry all sit down at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, with Hannah sitting next to Harry, her hand wrapped tightly with his.

Morag sits across from the two, staring at them. “Are you two together?”

Harry blushes and Hannah is quick to refute. “No no, of course not. My family is hosting Harry for the summer, and we’ve just become quite good friends. Right Harry?”

Harry smiles at Hannah and nods in agreement.

Hannah lets out a sigh of relief but bites her tongue as a little surge of disappointment pools in the pit of her stomach.

“So, you were saying that bonds were different for wizards and witches. How so?” Morag asks.

“It’s complicated, and I’m sorry but my explanation isn’t going to be the best, but I’ll have to do for now. Harry, you should probably ask Daphne about this later as well.”

Harry nods, gesturing for Hannah to continue.

“So, the way you described it, it was really uncommon for someone our age to have fewer than a few bonds. Is that true?”

Morag and Harry both nod.

“My cousin had like 8?” Harry guesses. “And that was about the average. I think most people probably have between 5 and 15 at our age, though a lot of those will fade and be replaced as the person grows.”

Hannah’s eyes widen in shock. “You let bonds fade?”

“Yeah it’s pretty common,” Morag says. “Friends drift apart all the time.”

“Yeah, friends do. But not bonded friends!”

“What do you mean?” Harry says. “Bonds are more permanent than just regular friendships, but they still end. Most people only hold 5 or 6 bonds throughout their entire life, with the rest being lost and replaced with new ones as new connections are made and old ones fade away.”

“Are you bloody serious?” Hannah asks. “It’s that common?”

“Yes Hannah. Why are you freaking out?”

“Because wizards and witches practically never let bonds fail! It’s unthinkable! And we certainly don’t have as many bonds as most muggles clearly do. Mom has the most of most witches or wizards I know, with 6 non-familial bonds.”

“There’s probably a reason for that,” Harry says. “Your mom is a muggleborn. She grew up like we did, with the number of bonds being so important.”

Hannah nods. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Ok, but why do you not let bonds fade?” Morag asks. “Surely people drift apart over time.”

“Of course they do,” Hannah says. “But just because you are friends with someone doesn’t mean you bond with that person. Most people take years to decide if they want to bond with someone. For example, Susan is one of my best friends and we’ve known each other for years now, and we still aren’t bonded yet. We were supposed to this summer before she got grounded, but still! Bonds before Hogwarts are incredibly rare. Very few people our age have non-familial bonds. I can only think of three examples off the top of my head: Michael and Rolf, Daphne and Tracey, and Charles and Ron. Rolf is actually an enigma because he’s also bonded with his cousin, Anthony Goldstein, which most people don’t bother with at our age.”

“That few?” Harry asks. “But people get all the time in the muggle world. Basically, as soon as you’ve been friends with someone for 6 months, you bond with them.”

Hannah stares at Morag and Harry in shock. “Seriously? No steps ceremonies?”

“Steps?” Morag asks.

“Ceremonies?” Harry also asks.

Hannah nods. “There are steps most wizards and witches take before bonding with another. They aren’t official or anything, but they are there. It’s different for each person, but it’s common for both people to ask the other person’s bondmates and parents for permission to seek a bond with them. And then they need to make their intentions about bonding to each other clear and announce it publicly and then there are a series of gifts exchanged before the two eventually bond. Of course, everyone follows the rule of thumb of waiting at least six months before bonding, but most people take years. Unless it’s a bond forced by a life debt, which can-”

“Hold up,” Harry says. “We’ll come back to that last one. Just … are you serious? Years? Gifts? Public announcement?”

“And what about these ceremonies?” Morag asks. “This is sounding more like steps before getting married than before bonding. Most people just bond whenever they feel like it. It’s a big deal, but it’s not super rare.”

“Actually, the steps taken before marriage in the wizarding world are much more complex,” Hannah says. “Courting takes years.”

Harry and Morag both stare at Hannah in shock.

“Ok, never mind. Let’s save that one for later. As for the ceremony, it’s customary to invite all of the other bondmates, or at least the wizarding bondmates, of the two who are bonding. It’s a small gathering, unless the bond is related to some sort of political alliance, which is why people are so careful to bond nowadays. For example Harry, if you ever did decide to bond with Daphne, that could be seen as an insult to your parents since she is a member of a different political alliance.”

Harry seems to look thoughtful and even a bit excited at the prospect, as Morag throws more questions at Hannah.

“Ok, but why are the bonds so important? Like, I know why they are important but why are they such a big deal in the wizarding world compared to the muggle one? Is there something different about the bonds?”

Hannah nods. “There’s two key differences. First off, have you two ever heard about ‘bond abilities’?”

Given the dumbfounded looks on both Morag’s and Harry’s faces, Hannah guesses not.

“Ok, this isn’t something that is talked about except with the people you trust most. It’s considered a sensitive topic, so just keep that in mind. Only discuss it with your closest friends and family.”

Morag and Harry both wince, and Hannah quickly apologizes before moving on.

“So witch or wizard has an innate ability that is associated with their person and their bond. Sometimes it’s a magical ability, like faster magical core recovery time or being able to cast a stronger magical shield with less magic. Others are more mental, such as increased comprehension of certain subjects. The third type changes how people interact with their environment. Maybe it’s being able to understand a certain species of creatures-”

Harry frowns at Hannah and remembers the conversations he had with the snakes in Aunt Petunia’s garden but decides to not interrupt.

“Or being more empathic. Truthfully it’s the least defined category. Everyone has one of these abilities, but it’s impossible to fully know what your ability is until you’ve completed a non-familial bond.”

“Why?” Harry asks.

“Because when you bond with someone that is non-familial, you give that person your bond ability as well, just on a much smaller scale. So for example, someone that could read really fast, let’s say 100 pages a minute, would pass that ability unto their bonded, who could now read about 10 pages a minute in return. And it’s impossible to know exactly what the ability is until it is transferred to someone else.”

“So bonds don’t transfer to familial bonds?” Morag asks.

“They do,” Hannah says. “But not until the first non-familial bond is completed. So for example, Anthony has access to Rolf’s bond ability, since Rolf is bonded to Michael, but Rolf doesn’t have access to Anthony’s, since Anthony doesn’t have a non-familial bond yet.”

“What is Rolf’s ability?”

Hannah stiffens. “I don’t know. It’s considered impolite to ask. Most people don’t know another person’s ability until they are bonded with said person.”

Harry nods, saying a quick apology for prying, which Hannah quickly accepts.

“These abilities are highly coveted and guarded, which is why people are so careful with who they bond to. No one wants a witch or wizard to amass too many bonds and abilities and become too powerful again. And the worst part is, once you’ve bonded with someone, the ability is permanent. So letting the bond fade away or destroying it would not take away the ability that was passed down upon bonding.”

“Ok, but what’s the second reason?” Morag asks. “You said that bonds are different to witches and wizards for two reasons, so what’s the second one?”

Hannah winces and takes a deep breath, before launching back into her explanation.

“What do you two know about the unforgivable curses?” Hannah asks.

“They are the three curses outlawed by every organized magical government, only being legally allowed when authorized by a government on their own soil,” Morag says. “I also know that they are incredibly impolite to say out loud.”

“Yes they are,” Hannah says. “But necessary in this case. Or at least, talking about one individual curse is. The cruciatus curse.”

“The torture curse,” Harry says. “It is the most painful curse imaginable and causes pain so violent that the victim loses all control of themselves and begs for mercy or … death. Or just screams in agony.”

Morag shivers and Hannah grips Harry’s hand tightly. Harry squeezes her hand in return, to offer support.

“The cruciatus curse is the most painful curse imaginable, but not by a large degree, at least not usually,” Hannah says. “There’s something else about the curse that has led to it being outlawed by every civilized government. When the curse is cast, it not only tortures the primary victim but everyone they are bonded too as well. It’s not as strong as the original curse, but it’s still quite painful.”

Hannah’s dad apparently still has nightmares of his wife’s screams of agony as two of her bonded, Frank and Alice Longbottom, were tortured before the couple managed to sever the bonds.

A move that spared Serena Abbott further pain but likely led to the couple being driven to insanity.

“There’s a way to stop it,” Hannah says. “To temporarily sever the connection between the bonds, but it leads to increased pain for the primary victim. So much so that the victim often is tortured to the point of insanity or death within a few minutes.”

Morag gasps and Harry’s eyes widen in shock.

The three just sit there in silence for several minutes, as both Harry and Morag stare at their arms and their lack of marks.

Harry and Morag don’t voice their concerns, but they share the same worry.

If the possible consequences of bonding are so severe and bondings are so carefully considered, will anyone ever bond with them?

________________________________________

Emmeline Vance, Serena Abbott, and Mitchell Abbott all floo to Greengrass Manor together, wanting to present a united front.

Emmeline is the most nervous of the three, but there’s no way she can back out now.

Not after she learned what Serena and Mitchell put on the line to help Harry and find Marlene.

“You offered to switch alliances?” Emmeline asks loudly.

Mitchell just nods, as if he’s barely even involved in the decision. Which is probably true. Serena Abbott is the political backbone of Noble House of Abbott.

“I had to offer something great enough to entice them,” Serena says. “And it worked.”

So Emmeline holds her head up high as she walks into Lord Greengrass’ office with Serena and Mitchel by her side.

They are surprised to find four people in the office waiting for them.

Lord Adrian Greengrass and Lady Miriam Greengrass are hardly a surprise, considering they were the people Emmeline and the Abbotts came to meet with.

Serena glares at Adrian. “I don’t appreciate being ambushed, Lord Greengrass.”

Lady Marietta Flint laughs at her friend. “Didn't you warn them Adrian?”

“It must’ve slipped my mind.”

Consort Juniper Flint nee Boot, wife of Marietta, rolls her eyes. “And for some reason, I don’t believe you Adrian.”

“You shouldn’t,” Miriam says.

Juniper and Marietta laugh as Adrian ignores the comment from his wife.

Serena clears her throat loudly, tapping her foot impatiently.

“My apologies, Lord and Lady Abbott, and Miss Vance, for intruding on this meeting,” Marietta says, walking over to the trio. “I was just simply too curious about young Heir Potter and quite eager to offer mine and my family’s help.”

Serena just stares at Marietta for a few minutes as Marietta stares back, a grin plastered on her face.

“Fine,” Serena says. “I accept your apology. For now.”

“Thank you Lady Abbott. Quite gracious of you. And please, just call me and my wife by our first names.”

“Same for me and my wife,” Mitchel adds.

Emmeline quickly allows for everyone in the room to call her by her first name as well, before they are all seated.

“I presume no progress has been made yet,” Serena says.

Adrian shakes his head. “Not yet Lady Abbott, it has only been about two weeks.”

“I’m well aware,” Serena says. “But you appear to have time to recruit more people to join our hesitant agreement.”

“As have you,” Adrian says, gesturing to Emmeline.

“Perhaps we are getting off track,” Mitchell interrupts. “As for progress on our end, we have made no official progress, but Emmeline has reached out to Jacob Potter and his curse-breaking team, who are dedicating some of their free time to figuring out how to break an owl redirection ward. I have made a few inquiries at my work, but so far-”

“And where exactly do you work, Mitchell?” Juniper asks.

“In the ministry,” Mitchell answers vaguely. Even Emmeline frowns at his answer. She works for the ministry as well, and she has never seen Mitchell in the building except in his capacity as Lord Abbott. “But so far I have come up empty.”

Adrian nods. “Then that settles it.”

“Not exactly,” Serena says. “I know what you have to offer, Lord and Lady Greengrass, and what myself and my husband have to offer as well. Even Emmeline is a highly decorated Hitwitch and is Harry’s honorary aunt. What exactly do Lady and Consort Flint bring to the table?”

“Our son,” Marietta answers. “Heir Apparent Marcus Flint. He is the new quidditch captain for Slytherin this year. He is going to be quite influential within the house. We also offer our status as an Ancient and Noble House.”

Serena gives the couple a pensive look before nodding.

“Excellent,” Adrian says. “Then perhaps we should make this agreement between everyone a bit more official.”

“What exactly are you implying?” Emmeline asks.

“Nothing too complicated,” Adrian answers. “A simple oath of agreement between the seven of us. To ensure that we do not stray too far from the intention of this agreement between the seven of us. Something that officially aligns our interest in finding Marlene McKinnon and keeping Heir Potter safe.”

Serena and Mitchell exchange looks, and Emmeline knows the two are having a silent conversation. Those two have always been so in sync, even for a married couple.

Emmeline knows she’ll agree to whatever Serena and Mitchell agree too. She may not have been as close to Serena or Mitchell at Hogwarts, but she trusts both of their judgements.

“We agree,” Mitchell answers. “As long as it is nothing too binding.”

“Excellent,” Adrian says. “I, Lord Adrian Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble of Greengrass, do hereby create and join the agreement created to locate Marlene McKinnon and protect Heir Harry Potter, should he be placed into Slytherin when he reaches Hogwarts. Let it be known. Who will join me?”

“I, Lady Miriam Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble of Greengrass, join my husband, Lord Adrian Greengrass. Let it be known.”

“I, Lady Marietta Flint of the Ancient and Noble House of Flint, join my bonded, Lord Adrian Greengrass. Let it be known.”

“I, Consort Juniper Flint of the Ancient and Noble House of Flint, join my wife’s bonded, Lord Adrian Greengrass. Let it be known.”

“I, Lord Mitchell Abbott of the Noble House of Abbott, join Lord Adrian Greengrass. Let it be known.”

“I, Lady Serena Abbott of the Noble House of Abbott, join Lord Adrian Greengrass. Let it be known.”

“I, Hitwitch Emmeline Vance, join Lord Adrian Greengrass. Let it be known.”

And just like that, the agreement settles upon all seven witches and wizards in the room.

And they can all feel the pull of the agreement on their magic. There won’t be any consequences if they break the agreement, but their magic will resist any action that could harm the agreement until it is complete or until the agreement is broken.

It’s the weakest oath that can be taken, but anything greater would have caused an alliance between the seven people present.

Which is something that Emmeline has a sinking feeling may still be required in the future.

________________________________________

Harry and Hannah both walk Morag back to the muggle entrance of Diagon Alley as the sun starts to set.

After ice cream and later lunch, Hannah and Harry spent the rest of the day with Morag, wandering the alley and its different shops.

Harry enjoyed having someone to talk to that understood his struggle with adjusting to his new life, and Hannah enjoyed having a girl to talk to, since Susan is still grounded.

Morag just enjoyed having friends.

“I’ll write to you,” Harry says, pulling Morag in for a hug as the girl gets ready to leave the alley and go find her dad. “Leave your window open, or else Hedwig might get mad.”

“Hedwig?”

“My owl,” Harry answers. “She’s a beauty and has more attitude than a dozen people combined.”

Morag laughs. “That sounds good. Thank you Harry.”

“Of course. People like us have to stick together.”

Morag doesn’t know whether Harry is referring to the fact that they both grew up in the non-magical world, or the fact that they are both pitifully lacking for bonds.

Harry is actually referring to both.

Morag pulls away from Harry, hugging Hannah.

“When you write to Harry, you can ask any questions you want, and I’ll try to answer them if he can’t. Or I’ll get my parents to answer them if I don’t know how. You do seem quite inquisitive, so you might ask questions I haven’t even thought of.”

Morag chuckles, shaking her head. “Thank you Hannah. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

Morag’s heart swells when Hannah says that and Harry smiles at her. He remembers that feeling, of being called a friend for the first time. When Michael said that to him, Harry felt like he could cry because of how happy he felt.

“We are all friends,” Harry adds. “All of us. And find us on September 1st, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of our friends, ok?”

Morag nods, tears starting to sting her eyes. “Thank you, both of you. Thank you so much. I have to go, but I will write, and I’ll see you both at King’s Crossing!”

Harry and Hannah wave as Morag leaves, and Harry wipes a stray tear out of his eye once Morag is out of sight.

“Harry?” Hannah asks. “Are you alright?”

“So is it true? That people won’t judge me for my lack of marks. For my lack of bonds.”

Hannah pulls Harry into a tight hug. “I’m not saying that no one will judge you, but your lack of parental bonds is because of Lord and Lady Potter, not you. People will recognize that. Besides that, no one will judge you for your lack of non-familial bonds. Not at our age or for several more years.”

Harry lets out a pitiful sob, burying his face into Hannah’s hair. “Really?” he asks, his voice cracking as he asks the question, like he can’t believe what Hannah is telling him.

“Yes Harry, really.”

Hannah just holds Harry close as the boy cries, ignoring the tears that fall down her own face.

“I’m so sorry Harry, for everything that happened to you. For the people that judged you. I’m so so sorry Harry.”

The two stay like that for several minutes, before Harry starts to calm down.

“Hannah?” Harry asks hesitantly, pulling away from the girl, but reaching out to hold her hand.

“Yes Harry?”

“My mother was a muggleborn, right?”

Hannah nods.

Harry’s face scrunches up and he bites back a sob. “Then that means she knew Hannah. She knew how muggles judge people without marks … without bonds. And she still … she sent there without any.”

Hannah covers her mouth in horror. James Potter could at least claim ignorance, but Lily Potter would have had to know the struggles Harry would go through.

“Oh Harry,” Hannah says, pulling Harry in for another hug.

“I hate her,” Harry says. “I thought she was better … I thought she was better than dad. I thought …”

“I know Harry. I know.”

“I hate her so much.”

Chapter Text

August 26, 1991

Harry sits at his desk, and he can practically feel himself slowly losing his mind.

He knows what he’s doing isn’t healthy, practically locking himself in his room when there are people who are actually willing to help him now.

But he just can’t bring himself to let them. Not with what he knows now.

He stares down at his arms. If someone looked closely, they could faintly see marks of some kind on his skin. But they aren’t the kind of marks he wants.

A burn mark here. A scar there. A bite mark on his upper right arm from ripper.

But no important marks. No bonds.

And Harry was ok with that for the last few weeks. He could live with that because he thought he could change that one day. Maybe even one day soon.

And why shouldn’t he have thought that? He had friends. Lots of them. Friends that seemed to care for him, and who he cared for in return.

That and the six-month wait are pretty much the requirements for bondings in the non-magical world.

But not here. Because of course not.

Harry isn’t that fucking lucky.

No, instead he’s finally made friends, only to learn that there are about a dozen other rules and considerations before bonding, and the process can take years!

Years!

Harry doesn’t know if he can last that much fucking longer, staring at everyone with their marks and their bonds and their friends and their families and their lack of loneliness and their happiness and their everything! Everything he doesn’t have!

He can’t keep living in a world where everyone has something besides him!

What did he fucking do to deserve this? What crimes did he commit as a baby or maybe in some kind of past life to deserve this punishment?

Every time he thinks he might be able to make something good of his life, it gets fucking ruined!

He thinks he might be able to have a family, and within 24 hours he is forgotten and almost drowns, but it’s ok, because at least he has new friends and maybe one day he can make his own family with his future bondmates.

But nope! That can’t happen because the wizarding world has to have so many fucking rules and guidelines and considerations and-

Harry waves his hand at the door and window, slamming them both closed. Hedwig jumps up in surprise, landing on Harry’s bed. Harry waves his hand at both the window and door again, as he’s done so many times before in his cupboard, and seals the room so no one can hear what’s happening inside it.

Because sometimes, when life throws him a curveball, Harry needs to scream. He needs to yell. He needs to rage.

So that’s exactly what Harry does. He yells until his voice is hoarse and he slams his hands on the table until they are red and stinging and he can’t feel anything but the pain.

Until he can’t feel the rage, the anger, the hopelessness.

The loneliness.

And when Harry finally stops, he can barely muster enough effort to crawl into bed, tears stinging his eyes from the soreness of his throat, the pain in his hands, and feeling of loneliness that starts to wash back over him as the feelings of rage and pain slowly subside.

Harry buries his face in his pillow and sobs, wrecking his already sore throat.

Harry barely even notices when Hedwig lands on his back, but he starts to feel her move after several minutes and rolls over when the owl starts pecking at him.

Hedwig flies up when Harry rolls over, landing back on his chest.

Harry reaches up to stroke the bird's feathers. “I’m sorry girl,” Harry rasps.

Hedwig preens in answer, pecking at Harry’s hand when he momentarily stops petting her.

Harry goes back to stroking Hedwig’s feathers, staring off in the distance as he does.

Thanks to his brilliant owl, he has finally managed to calm down enough to actually consider a plan of action that doesn’t involve screaming and useless anger.

The way he sees it, he has two options. He can continue down the path he’s already set and try to strengthen his relationships to the point where one or two of his friends would actually consider bonding with him. It’s the easier choice, certainly. He doesn’t actually have to change anything, but the problem is that Harry won’t know which people will actually ever consider bonding with him. He could spend years pursuing fruitless friendships and could end up feeling just as lonely as he feels now.

Or he could take the much harder path.

The path that makes it easier to see who will actually want him in their lives long-term, despite the possible consequences. But the path that requires him to pull back, at least a bit, from all of the connections he’s made so far.

It’s not a painless path. In fact, it would be quite painful. He could lose everything in the process.

Or he could gain everything.

“I’ll always have you, right Hedwig?” Harry asks.

Hedwig chirps at Harry, clearly annoyed with his question.

Harry laughs. “Sorry girl, stupid question.”

As long as Harry has someone, he’s better off than a month ago. Even if that someone is a bird.

“I can do this, right girl? I can be strong, right?”

Hedwig doesn’t even bother to answer his question with an annoyed chirp, just glaring at him instead.

“Ok, hard path it is then.”

________________________________________

August 27, 1991

Tracey doesn’t even bother knocking as she barges into Daphne’s room. She knows her friend won’t mind.

Besides, Daphne is just doing what she’s always doing. Planning and recalculating her plans and planning them again.

Sometimes Tracey wonders if Daphne is going to have enough time to actually learn anything at Hogwarts, but then she realizes that the thought of Daphne not excelling in her classes is ridiculous.

Tracey flops onto Daphne’s bed, staring at her friend, as her head hangs upside down off the edge.

“What are you reading?”

“A letter,” Daphne says. “From Harry. He’s asking about bonds. And bond abilities.”

Tracey sits up immediately. “Really? Does he know how serious of a topic that is?”

“He says he does,” Daphne says. “He said that Hannah-”

Tracey scoffs, and Daphne pauses to let her friend overreact before moving on.

“-explained it to him. He said he would write Susan, his tutor, but he’s looking for some more diverse answers then he would get from a primarily Light family.”

“So … he’s trusting you to tell him?”

“Yes.”

Tracey frowns. “So, Harry trusts you?”

“Maybe. At least enough for this.”

Tracey doesn’t say anything, letting Daphne silently read the letter.

But Daphne can pick up on her friend’s concern and unease.

“Tracey, just say whatever you want to say.”

“Are you still planning on testing him?” Tracey asks. “Seeing how he fares after he’s sorted?”

“Of course. I’m not letting him go in without any support, but I am the Heir Apparent to a Most Ancient and Noble House. And a Grey one at that. I can’t be seen completely supporting Harry unless he proves himself worthy of it.”

“Yeah, but does he know that?” Tracey asks.

“He says in his letter he looks forward to seeing us at King’s Crossing on September 1st but understands if we wish to sit in a compartment separate from him. He also informs me that he sent a letter to father, rejecting our House’s offer of friendship.”

Tracey gasps. “Why would he do that?”

“He says he may accept an offer once he is more informed about potential consequences and benefits of accepting such a friendship. He also wonders if a possible future offer will be stronger if it is accepted at a later date.”

“So he’s testing us?”

Daphne nods. “Or more accurately, he’s waiting to see how much value we place in him. Do we see him as a pawn to anger our political rivals, or as a strong potential ally in his own right? Will we give up so easily or will we chase him?”

“That’s … very clever.”

“Yes it is. I imagine father is quite upset by the events though.”

“Yes, I imagine he is,” Tracey agrees.

“It is worth noting though that Harry rejected a similar offer from the Abbott House.”

“So he’s really playing the long game then. Waiting to see what the right move for him is. Good for him. I hope it works out.”

“I do as well. I just wonder what caused this change in behavior. A few weeks ago, Harry was jumping at every overture of friendship and now he is much more calculated in his approach.”

“Maybe he’s finally realizing the delicate position his parents have put him. He’s an heir to a Most Ancient and Noble House, but he’s third in line now due to his parents, and the Potters have made it clear they won’t support him more than required. Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t need to anger his family until he absolutely has to.”

“Maybe,” Daphne says. “Or maybe something scared him. Scared him so much he decided to change his strategy, in order to either cut his losses or maximize his gains. Maybe both.”

Tracey sighs. “Ok, now you’ve lost me again.”

Daphne smirks at her friend. “Don’t worry about it Tracey. Now, don’t you have a lesson with mother.”

Tracey curses, rushing out of the room. “Miriam is going to kill me if I’m late again!”

________________________________________

Adrian stares at the letter in front of him with a stony face.

Part of him feels offended that Harry would turn down his family’s offer of friendship. But a much larger part of him is incredibly impressed with the boy. The boy who has finally decided to stop letting people roll over him. The boy who has finally put his foot down and demanded respect and that he be heard.

Adrian knows his plans for this year are as good as horse shit now. Daphne is going to take Harry’s cunning and cleverness as an invitation to test Harry further, instead of completely supporting the boy. He could try to order his eldest to befriend the boy instead, but it would be futile. Daphne only bothers with people when she knows they are worthy of her time. And Daphne most likely finds this new independence Harry is exhibiting as exciting, rather than worrying.

But it does but Adrian’s plans in a precarious position. Daphne’s plans could work and the two could form an alliance much stronger than they would have formed according to his plans. Or it could backfire, and Harry could completely turn away from the Grey Alliance and the Greengrasses.

It’s a gamble, that’s for certain.

And truthfully, Adrian doesn’t have a say in how the events of the next several months will unfold. Everything depends on Daphne now.

And Adrian trusts his eldest daughter and her judgement whole-heartedly. He just wishes she would sometimes fill him in on her plans.

________________________________________

August 28, 1991

Dear Jacob,

I hope this letter finds you well. I just wanted to warn you that you might be getting some worried letters in the near future.

I have decided to take a new approach to this world I have been thrust into.

I was so happy to accept every person into my life, gathering as much support as I possibly could.

But I am starting to realize that said support will be useless if it does not hold up against any adversity.

So I have decided to pull back and see who exactly will choose me, not when the decision is easy, but when it requires effort.

If I wanted people around me that would choose me when it is easy, I would simply beg my parents for forgiveness for sins I have not committed and hope to be welcomed back into a family I mostly loathe.

I hope you understand that decision was not easy nor made lightly. I hope I have your support, but I understand if I do not, considering you have not seen me in person for almost 12 years.

Please give my well wishes to Heir Apparent Weasley and the rest of your team. Especially Ares. Hedwig won’t admit it, but she does miss her father.

Sincerely,
Harry Potter

Jacob sighs as finishes reading the letter from Harry.

Ivy takes the letter from him, whistling appreciatively when she finishes reading. “Well, he certainly has an independent streak. I wonder which family member he gets that from.”

Jacob snorts, snatching the letter out of Ivy’s hands. “Shut up. And trust me, I know. I would have pulled the same stunt if I were in his situation.”

“Jacob, you did pull the same stunt, just with a lot more fire whiskey involved.”

“Yeah yeah,” Jacob waves off. “I’m just worried about him.”

“Good,” Ivy says. “If you weren’t, I would have to kick your ass. But maybe this will be good for him. Maybe separating himself a bit will help him grow stronger.”

“I just wish he didn't have to be strong. I wish he could just be weak and it wouldn’t matter because people would be there to protect him. I would be there to protect him. I just wish there was more I could do.”

“I know,” Ivy says, laying a supportive hand on her friend’s shoulder. “But you are doing as much as you can, and Harry obviously realizes that. Otherwise he wouldn’t have written to you at all. But he did write to you, and he even warned you. Do you know what that means?”

Jacob frowns and shakes his head.

“It means he appreciates what you are doing Jacob. It means that he cares for you. And he knows you care for him. Just know that and keep doing as much as you can for that kid. Alright?”

Jacob nods. “Yeah of course. I would do anything for Harry. Us good Potters have to stick together.”

Ivy rolls her eyes, turning to leave.

“Hey Ivy,” Jacob calls out, forcing the woman to turn around. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course Jacob. It’s my job to make sure you don’t do stupid shit. How exactly did you survive without me?”

Jacob laughs. “I almost didn't.”

________________________________________

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Tonks,

I want to thank you both again for your continued offers of your assistance. Currently I do not require any assistance from either of you, but I very may well require it in the future. I hope the offer is still open when I may eventually require it, but of course, as I stated in my previous letters, and I am perfectly happy to pay for your services. Thank you for your kind letters. I will be sure to introduce myself to your daughter when I am at Hogwarts this year. And I will take your advice, Mr. Tonks, and only refer to her by her chosen name. Thank you again for the advice and for the offer of assistance.

Sincerely,
Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter

________________________________________

August 29, 1991

Serena has never seen Harry this withdrawn, but for the last few days, it’s as if Harry has completely cut himself off from the rest of the world.

He refuses to leave his room without Hedwig by his side, and even then, only for meals.

Even Rolf and Michael coming over did little to improve Harry’s mood.

“So where exactly were you a few days ago?” Harry asks.

Michael and Rolf both glance at each other nervously before Michael answers. “Rolf’s grandfather needed us for the day. It wasn’t anything major, just last minute.”

Hannah resists the urge to facepalm at the blatant lie given by her two friends. This is why she misses Susan. At least Susan would just redirect the question rather than give a half-assed lie.

Harry just scoffs. “You could just tell me it’s a secret. Something you don’t want to tell me. It’s ok.”

“But Harry, we do want to-”

“Because we all have secrets,” Harry interrupts. “Everyone has secrets. Besides, we are still new to being friends. It makes sense that you wouldn’t trust me right away.”

“Harry-” Michael tries to protest.

“Because truthfully, I don’t trust you yet either,” Harry says. “I don’t trust anyone. Not yet.”

Harry’s behavior, on top of him turning down an official offer of friendship from House Abbott is getting close to driving Serena up a wall.

Partially because Serena knows she only has a few days left with Harry and she wants to spend as much time with the boy as she can.

And partially because everyone can feel the absence Harry has left.

Jeremy had enjoyed having an older boy to talk with and play with. At first Jeremy was worried that Harry wouldn’t care for him and would ignore him because he was younger, but that wasn’t the case. Sure, Harry was closer with Hannah, but he still spent plenty of time with the youngest Abbott. It was clear that anything related to flying or quidditch was off limits when it came to Harry, but Jeremy and Harry still got rather close over the last month.

Mitchell enjoyed having Harry around, despite having spent the least amount of time with the boy out of all of the Abbotts. But Mitchell was nothing if not loyal, and just seeing his family care for the boy was enough for him to care for Harry too.

Hannah has seemed almost lost for the last few days, and she even told her mother that the house feels so much emptier without Harry being around. And that she feels emptier too.

And Serena is struggling with the fact that Harry is not hers. That even though she cares for him like her own, she has no right to act like his mother. Part of his wants to storm into his room and pull him out and hug him until he forgives them for whatever wrong they've committed or until he finally confesses what is weighing on his heart.

But she can’t. Because she’s not Harry’s mother. She’s not his family. She’s just a woman who is hosting him for the summer.

And the summer is almost over.

________________________________________

August 31, 1991

Dear Harry,

I need you to know that writing this letter is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I have so much to apologize for. I’ve hurt you in so many ways. I cannot begi-

Harry sneers at the letter as it bursts into flames on his desk, taking deep pleasure in the fact that the color of the flames is similar to the color of Lily Potter’s hair.

There’s a twisted irony there. That he’s destroying her letter just as she destroyed his life.

Harry is so enraged and focused on burning the letter until it’s completely destroyed that he doesn’t even notice when someone rushes into his room.

“Aguamenti!” Mitchell casts, dousing the flames.

Harry turns to glare at the man. “What did you do that for?”

Mitchell is momentarily taken aback by Harry’s cold glare. “I was putting out the fire. What happened Harry? Are you hurt? What caused the fire?”

Harry just rolls his eyes in answer, turning back to the letter and waving his hands over it, setting it ablaze again.

Mitchell’s eyes widen in shock and he struggles to string words together as the letter burns in front of his eyes.

“Harry!” Mitchell manages to stutter out after several minutes, after the letter is nothing but ash and embers. Harry waves his hand over the letter again, blowing the remnants out the window.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Did you just- where’s your wand?”

Harry gestures to his wand holster, that is laying uselessly on his bed.

Mitchell places his hand over his heart, as his brain races for explanations. He turns around, closing Harry’s door.

Harry frowns at him but follows Mitchell’s direction when he gestures for them both to sit. It’s the least he can do after Mitchell and Serena have hosted him all summer.

“Harry, do you understand what you were doing?”

Harry nods. “Yeah of course. It’s magic. I’ve been doing it all my life, though I only realized how this summer.”

Mitchell shakes his head. “No Harry, you were doing wandless magic. And not just wandless magic, but you used multiple spells and did so effortlessly.”

Harry frowns. “What is wandless magic? Isn’t that just magic? Can’t everybody do it?”

“Well theoretically yes, they can. But for most people it takes years to learn how to use wandless magic, and only a handful of people have more than a few spells they can perform wandlessly. I’m considered quite proficient, since I can cast the disarming, summoning, and stunning spells, as well as a few others. What you just did is incredible Harry. And I’ve never seen anything like it before. You’ve been able to do that your entire life?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, pretty much. For some reason it’s been easier since I’ve known I was a wizard, but for as long as I could remember, I could do it.”

“How many spells do you know how to do with it?”

Harry frowns. “I don’t know their names, but quite a few. One that unlocks doors. One that you can put on entrances of rooms to block out sounds. One that warms me in the winter and cools me in the summer, when I had to work outside. There’s one that can help heal minor bruises and cuts. I can grab things with the magic and move them around. And I can set things on fire. And those are just the ones I use most often, besides that last one of course.”

Mitchell can practically feel himself getting fainter as Harry continues down his list.

“Harry … that’s incredible! I can’t believe this. Do you even know how rare that is?”

Harry shakes his head.

“I’ve never actually heard of this before,” Mitchell says. “There are people that can perform that many wandless spells or more, but not without years of training and significant effort. I wouldn’t actually believe it if I didn't see it with my own eyes, and even then, I’m going to go get my eyes checked after this, just to be sure.”

Harry laughs, at least until Mitchell gives him a much more serious look.

“But in all seriousness Harry, does anyone know about this? Have they seen you perform wandless magic or have you told anyone about this?”

“No sir,” Harry answers.

Mitchell’s face relaxes. “Good. That’s really really good Harry. And please, just call me Mitchell.”

“Ok, but why is that a good thing?”

“Because you have a really rare ability Harry. One that people will envy you for. One that is worth protecting. And because keeping this secret is better for you in the long run. If people know you can perform wandless magic so easily, they will flock to you for your power. And I don’t think that’s what you want.”

Harry stares at Mitchell with a dumbfounded look on his face. “You know? You know why I’m doing this?”

Mitchell reaches over, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Of course. Serena is the brains of the Abbott family but I still have a few good brain cells rattling around in there. Just don’t count us Abbotts out yet Harry. I know you’ll need time, but just know we’ll be here for you, when you’re ready.”

Harry nods as tears start to sting his eyes.

“Can I hug you?” Mitchell asks.

Harry nods quickly, and Mitchell pulls the boy in for a tight hug.

“I know you don’t feel like you have a family yet, but I have every faith that you’ll make one Harry. One so much stronger that it would have been otherwise.”

________________________________________

September 1, 1991

Harry walks a few paces behind the Abbotts as the family walks into King’s Crossing Station.

“Why exactly do we do it like this?” Harry quietly asks the family. “Surely there’s an easier way than walking to the edge of the Abbott property, calling a cab, and driving to King’s Crossing.”

“There is,” Serena answers. “But it’s always been done this way.”

“It’s a Light Alliance thing,” Hannah informs Harry. “It’s to show support for muggleborns.”

“Then why don’t we walk them to the train ourselves? Wouldn’t that show more support?”

“It would, but as a society, we rarely do things that make sense and that are fully thought through.”

Jeremy and Hannah laugh, and Serena lightly chides her husband, even though there’s a smile plastered across her face.

Harry laughs with the family. He’s definitely going to miss the Abbotts while he’s at Hogwarts. He hopes that they’ll still be in his life for a long time.

But he understands that they might not be, and Harry doesn’t intend to waste any more time on wastes of space like the majority of his birth family. He intends to focus on those relationships that will be meaningful and can last. Harry is tired of coming in last place, especially to the people who should care about him

As if on cue, the Potter family materializes near the Abbott family, as they all walk towards whatever magical entrance they are using to get to Platform 9 ¾.

At first Harry tries to draw his gaze away from the Potter’s, but Rose smiles at him, so Harry can’t help but smile back at his sister. They’ve only exchanged a handful of letters over the summer, but Harry doesn’t hold any animosity towards her.

His twin on the other hand …

Charles shoots Harry a look that conveys both extreme guilt and loathing. It appears that Charles loves to be polarizing, even to himself. How delightful.

Harry rolls his eyes when he notices James glance Harry before quickly turning away. Harry thought that Gryffindor was supposed to be the house of the brave, but James clearly missed the memo. Or he just simply doesn’t care.

Harry doesn’t know which one is worse.

Harry freezes when Lily turns to look at him.

And then Lily takes a step towards him.

And Harry is gone, grabbing Hedwig’s cage and fleeing, leaving the rest of his things and the Abbotts behind him.

He has all of the important things anyways. His vault key, wand, and even the alohomora key Jacob gave him are all safe and secure in the wand holster he purchased. Thankfully he was smart enough to buy one with a few extra hidden compartments.

Even his library trunk is shrunken down and stored in his pocket. Harry has no intention of ever letting that trunk out of his grasp.

So Hedwig was really the only irreplaceable thing to Harry on that entire trolley.

He’s rushing through the morning foot traffic in King’s Crossing, Hedwig chirping as her cage rattles.

He doesn’t stop for several minutes, zipping through the crowd thanks to his years of running away from Dudley and his friends.

Harry weaves around and shoots in between people all in a blind haste to put as much distance between himself and his family as he possibly can.

It’s not until he reaches the entrance of the station that he truly considers the consequences of his actions.

He knows the Abbotts will look after his things for him, and that they’ll come looking for him, despite the inconvenience he has caused them.

But there’s no guarantee they’ll find him before the train departs in a little over half an hour.

And Harry doesn’t have a bloody clue how to get to platform 9 ¾.

Harry sits against some of the benches by the entrance of the station, setting down Hedwig’s cage next to him. Hedwig chirps at him encouragingly, but it does little to improve Harry’s mood.

Harry knows his best bet is to simply wait by the entrance. Eventually the Abbotts will find him. At least, he hopes it’s the Abbotts that will find him and not her.

Harry doesn’t even notice as a girl approaches him, with her parents walking behind her.

“Excuse me, are you lost?” The father asks.

Harry shrugs. “Yes, but don’t worry. My fam… someone will come find me. I’ll be fine.”

The mother and father both exchange worried looks, as the girl stares at the owl.

Harry smiles at the bushy-haired girl. “She doesn’t bite,” Harry says. “Not unless she wants too.”

The girl sticks her fingers into the cage, stroking Hedwig’s feathers. Hedwig gives a chirp of approval, moving to give the girl better access.

“Are you a Hogwarts student?” the mother asks.

Harry frowns, looking up at the family. They are all wearing muggle clothes, so Harry just assumed they were a muggle family. Especially since they blend in so well with the rest of the crowd. Harry has seen what most wizards and witches qualify as “mugglewear” and it’s quite pathetic in his opinion.

Which means that this family must be a muggle family, but if they know about magic, then the daughter must be attending Hogwarts as well.

Harry nods. “Yes ma’am. I am Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, but please just call me Harry.”

The parents are stunned by his title, clearly not used to such formalities. The girl, however, takes it in stride. She’s clearly well-read, just like Morag.

“It’s a pleasure Harry. I am Miss Hermione Granger, and I am muggleborn student starting at Hogwarts this year. And these are my parents, Daniel and Emma Granger. Please refer to us by our first names.”

Harry reaches his hand out to shake Hermione’s hand. “Pleasure is all mine, Hermione. Now that I know that you are aware of the magical world, could you please inform me of how to reach Platform 9 ¾. I became separated from the people who were taking me there, and I don’t know how to get to the Hogwarts Express without them.”

Emma and Daniel Granger both exchange similar concerned glances between them, but Hermione just beams at Harry. “Of course! We would be happy too!”

Chapter Text

September 1, 1991

Hermione is quick to lead the charge to the entrance of Platform 9 ¾. She pulls Harry along, and after spending the last month with Hannah, Harry is very used to getting dragged around by endearing and commanding young women, not to mention the brief time he spent with Ginny at the Potter Manor.

Daniel and Emma Granger follow behind the children, still quite close but they are clearly having a private conversation with one another. It’s not hard for Harry to tell who the conversation is about, given the less than subtle glances thrown his way.

Harry ignores them for now. They seem like good people at first glance, but there’s little they can do to help him, even if they decide to try.

Harry is the only one that can help himself now.

“So Harry, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?”

“Yes actually. Just got my letter last month, and let me tell you, it has been a wild ride ever since.”

Hermione frowns at Harry, and Emma’s and Daniel’s are both clearly piqued as they move a bit closer to listen in.

“I thought you were part of the Nobility?” Hermione asks.

“I am, but I was raised in the non-magical world like you. It’s a bit complicated, but I was raised by aunt on my mother’s side, before finding out that my parents and siblings are still alive. I stayed with them briefly, but for the most part I was hosted by another family, the Abbotts.”

“You stayed with your aunt?” Daniel asks. “Did you know about the wizarding world at least?”

“No, not before this summer. My family thought I was non-magical despite being born from a witch or wizard, someone known as a squib, so they sent me to live with my aunt and her family because my mother is a muggleborn like Hermione, so her relatives were non-magical.”

“Is that common?” Emma asks. “To send away a family member like that when they aren’t magical?”

“It depends,” Harry answers. “For the more … I guess you could say conservative faction, yes it would be quite common. For the more liberal and neutral factions, no. It is not common. Ironically, my parents are quite important within the liberal faction, so they may have flubbed up a bit there. It’s a whole story that I don’t feel like getting into right now, if that’s ok.”

Emma and Daniel both nod immediately, apologizing for intruding. Hermione opens her mouth, clearly wanting to ask more questions, but she closes it, nodding along with her parents.

Harry smiles at all three of them in thanks.

“So Hermione, you appear to have done a lot of reading to prepare for this year,” Harry notes.

Hermione nods enthusiastically. “Oh yes! I spent all of my allowance from the summer buying books from Flourish and Blotts to prepare for classes and the cultural differences. I just wish I could have afforded one of those library trunks. I had to leave several of my books at home because they wouldn’t fit, though thankfully I managed to fit in all of the wizarding books.”

Harry laughs. “I know what you mean. I got my hands on a library trunk just over a week ago and I have been dutifully filling it up ever since.”

Hermione turns to stare at Harry with a wild look in her eyes. “You have a library trunk? Can I see it? Please, please!”

“Hermione,” Emma says, half as a condemnation and half laughing as her daughter gets worked over what is clearly one of her favorite subjects.

Harry just laughs. “Of course. I’ll show it to you on the train. We might even have to set up some kind of book lending between the two of us if you have books I don’t have.”

Truthfully Harry doesn’t much care if Hermione has books that he doesn’t. He’ll read them of course, and greedily too, but he won’t deprive Hermione of books to read if she becomes closer to him. Besides, it’s not like anything in his books are secret. There’s even a private bookshelf in the library trunk that people besides him can’t see without explicit permission and sits mostly empty, with only important letters on the shelf.

And Harry finds it refreshing to be around Hermione. Sure, she’s definitely a bit overbearing, but there’s not a bit of ill will in her body, and she wears her heart and passion on her sleeve. Even though Harry does sometimes enjoy the subtly that is so common in the wizarding world, it is refreshing to talk with someone so open.

“Really? Oh thank you! Thank you!” Hermione exclaims, pulling Harry in for a hug. Harry is quick to jut one arm out, keeping Hedwig safe from the onslaught of curls, but he returns the hug with his other arm.

Harry almost instinctively glances down at Hermione’s arms, taking note of her bonds.

He bites back a frown when he notices only two on her arms. Two parental bonds. No non-familial bonds at all.

It’s starting to look like there’s a pattern with muggleborn and muggle-raised witches and wizards. At least Hermione has two loving parents, unlike Morag and Harry.

But still, Harry remembers what it was like to not have any bonds, including non-familial bonds. He remembers the judgments and the hate and the loneliness.

And he remembers how it felt the first time he truly believed he wasn’t alone. He remembers the feeling when Michael called him a friend or when Hannah hugged him or when Rolf laughed with him or when Susan stood up for him.

Harry remembers the smile on Morag’s face when Hannah and Harry insisted they were her friends.

Harry intends to cause that feeling of happiness and elation as much as he possibly can.

“Of course Hermione. What are friends for?”

Hermione’s hold on Harry stiffens before deepening.

Harry knows he made the right choice.

“Sorry to break this up you two, but we better get to platform 9 3/4 before Harry’s guardian gets worried,” Daniel says.

Hermione reluctantly lets go. She beams at Harry, before continuing to lead him through the station. Hedwig chirps occasionally, both happy for Harry and clearly already sick of being in this cage.

Harry just holds up her cage and says, “As soon as we get on the express, I’ll open the library trunk and let you in, ok? That way you have a least a bit more room to move around.”

Hedwig nods and chirps at him again.

“Yes I know, I should have done it this morning, but then I wouldn’t have been able to spend time with you.”

Hedwig is mollified, chirping once more before relaxing in her cage.

Harry just laughs at his owl.

“Here we are,” Hermione says excitedly.

“Um, what exactly are we supposed to do?” Harry asks, looking at the solid concrete pillar.

“Run through it,” Daniel answers.

“Excuse me?” Harry asks and even Hedwig chirps disapprovingly.

“I know it sounds silly, but trust us it's perfectly safe. Dan and I each did it a dozen times before we even considered letting Hermione do it,” Emma Granger answers.

“Magical transporting fireplaces and pillars that lead to train platforms. What horribly complicated concept will wizards come up with next?” Harry jokes.

Emma laughs, while Daniel snorts. Hermione looks too excited to even process the joke.

“Come on let’s do it Harry,” she says.

“Are you sure Hermione?” Harry asks.

“Come on Harry, I’ll do it with you,” she says grabbing his hand.

“Ok,” Harry hesitantly agrees

“Ok let’s do it on the count of 3. 1, 2, 3.”

Harry and Hermione both run headfirst through the wall, their hands gripped tightly together as Hedwig chirps out of irritation and concern.

“Oh my god,” Harry laughs as the two come out on the other side of a fully-fledged train platform.

“Insane, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Harry giggles, feeling exhilarated as he stares at the station

“I told you they would have fun Emma,” Daniel says as the couple walk through the wall and onto platform 9 3/4.

“You don’t have to run through the wall, you can just walk through it?” Harry asks, perplexed.

“Of course silly, it’s just more fun to run though than walk. Besides why would the magic let only people who run through,” Hermione says.

“The one thing I’ve learned when it comes to magic is that it rarely makes sense,” Harry asks, already starting to scan the crowd. There are people everyone, leagues more than Harry ever saw in Diagon Alley even at its busiest.

Though, Serena and Mitchell did warn Harry about this. The Hogwarts Express leaving King’s Crossing each year was a major gathering, even for those families that don’t have children or relatives currently attending the school. Practically every family of Nobility is in attendance, preparing to schmooze with one another.

Which makes Harry’s task of locating the Abbotts more difficult. In fact, Harry hasn’t been able to locate anyone.

“What does the family hosting you look like Harry?” Emma asks, also scanning the crowd.

“Very blonde,” Harry answers honestly.

“Come on,” Harry whispers to himself. “Find someone I know. Let’s find someone I know. Anyone I kno- not him!”

Harry immediately turns away when he spots a small grouping of red heads. He takes a second glance at the group and notices that Ginny and Percy are missing from the group, as well as the father. So Harry definitely wants to stay the hell away from them. Especially since those Weasleys are sure to draw the wrong kind of attention. The Potter kind. But Harry really should find Ginny if he can. And Percy too.

The Grangers all seem to scan the crowd with Harry, even though it’s clear they have no idea what they are looking for. Harry finds it both amusing and thoughtful at the same time.

“Find someone I know,” Harry continues to whisper to himself. “Let’s find someone I know. Oh Rolf, Thank Go- I mean Merlin!”

Harry moves forward and the Grangers all move with him.

“Rolf!” Harry exclaims, moving over towards his friend.

Rolf looks over at Harry, smiling when he sees the boy. Harry quickly sets down Hedwig’s cage so the future hufflepuff can hug him. Harry has learned one thing over the summer and it’s that all of his future hufflepuff friends love to give hugs in greetings. Especially Michael and Hannah.

“Hey, where are your grandparents?” Harry asks.

Rolf sighs. “They got pulled away by McLaggens. It happens every time my grandfather actually leaves the reserve. Someone always pulls him aside to talk to him. And grandmother knows I can take care of myself, but grandfather might accidentally insult someone just so he can leave a boring conversation.”

Harry laughs. “That does sound like your grandfather. Oh Rolf, this is my friend, Miss Hermione Granger and her parents, Daniel and Emma Granger. Hermione, Daniel, Emma, this is my friend Heir Apparent Rolf Scamander of the Noble House of Scamander.”

“Scamander?” Hermione asks. “Like Newt Scamander?”

Rolf nods. “Yes, he’s my grandfather.”

Hermione looks absolutely delighted by that news before apologizing and continuing with the usual introductions.

“Hey Harry, where are the Abbotts?” Rolf asks.

Harry shrugs. “Don’t know. I got … separated from them. I’ve been trying to find them. I wouldn’t have even known how to get to the platform without the Grangers’ help. Which I have to thank you again for, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. You too Hermione.”

“It was no trouble Harry,” Daniel ensures the boy. “We were happy too.”

“Besides, it let Hermione here meet one of her future classmates,” Emma says, smiling at her daughter. “Which we definitely consider worth the extra few minutes.”

Hermione shoots her mother a slightly mutinous look that Harry knows is stereotypical for most teenagers when their parents embarrass their children. Emma Granger just laughs, pulling Hermione in for a side hug as the girl huffs.

Harry and Rolf laugh along with Emma, much to the girl’s annoyance, though it’s clearly light-hearted for everyone.

Before anyone else can say anything, Harry is tackled by a redhead.

Harry tenses at first, because of the hair color, but relaxes when he realizes it’s just Ginny hugging him.

“Hey Ginny,” Harry says in greeting. “It’s good to see you again. Did you have a good summer?”

Ginny pulls away from Harry, shrugging. “It was alright. Seeing Susan curse Ron was definitely the highlight.”

Harry laughs at his friend, introducing her to everyone else that is gathered. He’s barely finished introductions, when he’s approached again, this time by Percy.

“Ginny you can’t just- Oh Harry, good to see you. Heir Apparent Scamander. And I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Harry once again introduces the Grangers, and Rolf smirks at the hint of exasperation in his friend's tone. Even the Grangers appear amused.

Things only get more out of hand from there. A few moments later, Harry spots Susan Bones making a beeline for the group, and Harry quickly passes Hedwig off to Rolf, and Ginny off to Percy, opening his arms for his friend.

“I’m so sorry Harry. For what I did. I hope it didn't cause you any trouble.”

Harry shakes his head, laughing. “Susan, the only thing I’m mad about is that I didn't get to see it in person.”

“I can give you a pensieve memory of it for Christmas if you want,” Susan suggests.

“No clue what a pensieve is, but yes please.”

The two separate and Harry greets Amelia Bones, introducing everyone to the Bones.

Harry barely finishes speaking before he hears someone calling out his name, finding Tracey waving him down, dragging the whole Greengrass family with her.

“Lord Greengrass,” Harry greets. “Pleasure to see you again. I hope that you didn't find my last correspondence too … distressing.”

Adrian smiles politely at the boy. “I did not, Harry. And please, you can still call me Adrian. I found your letter surprising, perhaps even a bit disappointing, but I certainly respect the stance you are taking.”

Harry nods to the man. “Thank you Adrian. Miriam, Daphne, Astoria, Tracey, good to see all of you again.”

Tracey smiles at Harry while Daphne just politely nods in greeting.

Harry once again introduces everyone to each other when needed, interrupted just as he finishes when yet another person calls out his name.

“Jesus Chr- I mean, Merlin’s Balls!” Harry exclaims, turning to find Cedric Diggory waving at him, and signaling to the rest of his family.

“Didn't you say that you had only been aware of the wizarding world for the last month Harry?” Daniel asks.

“Yes,” Harry answers.

“How do you … this is a lot of people Harry,” Emma says.

“This isn’t everyone,” Susan answers for the Grangers, surprising the family.

Michael bursts out of the crowd, running towards Harry at breakneck speed before wrapping the boy in a tight hug.

“Harry, we were so worried,” Michael exclaims. “The Abbotts said that you got spooked and ran off, and they’ve been looking for you ever since.”

Catherine and Cedric follow behind Michael, with Catherine smiling at Harry in greeting before tensing when she sees the Greengrasses. Cedric is unperturbed by the large gathering of people surrounding Harry, ruffling the boy’s hair in greeting since Michael refuses to let Harry go.

“Michael, I’m fine,” Harry insists. “The Grangers found me and helped me get to the platform.”

Rolf, thankfully, takes over this round of introduction for Harry, giving the boy a small reprieve.

Catherine walks off, supposedly to locate the Abbotts and even Percy has to leave to report for a prefect meeting on the train. Cedric disappears too, stalking off to find his friend before everyone has to board the train.

The Greengrasses seem to take this as the time to leave as well, with Adrian and Miriam breaking off when they see another family walk by.

“Come on Tracey, we have to go find Heir Apparent Smith,” Daphne says.

“Do we have too?”

“Yes,” Daphne says, though even she seems to wish they didn't have to, if the slight hesitation in her answer is any indication.

Tracey groans but goes along with it anyway, waving enthusiastically to Harry.

“We hope to see you at Hogwarts, if not during the train ride Harry,” Daphne says, before the duo leave.

“Of course Daphne, Tracey.”

Astoria surprises Harry by actually sticking around, pulling Ginny a bit away from the others as the two girls converse with each other. Harry remembers that the two seemed to get along all those weeks ago in Diagon Alley, but for the life of him, Harry can’t figure out how they would have gotten so close. The Weasleys don’t seem like the kind of family to associate with a Grey family like the Greengrasses, especially not with the animosity James holds for the family and how close the Weasleys and Potters are.

Michael absolutely refuses to let go of Harry, his arm wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist. The Grangers are staring at this two with pleasant smiles, though they seem a bit confused too.

Susan and Amelia are doing a good job of distracting the family, conversing with Daniel and Emma as Rolf seems to be having conversation with Hermione about how owls work in the wizarding world, with Hedwig occasionally adding her two cents with loud chirps.

Harry is just starting to relax again when his name is called out from across the train station for a third time.

He whips his head around, finding both Hannah and Serena bullying their way through the crowd towards him as Mitchell, Jeremy, and Morag follow along.

Huh. The Abbotts must have found Morag while they were looking for him. That certainly saves him some time.

Hannah reaches him first, pulling Harry into a tight hug that forces Michael to let go of the boy. Serena barely waits for her daughter to let go of the boy before doing the same.

Mitchell claps Harry on the back and even Jeremy and Harry hug briefly as the family all apologizes for not finding him sooner.

Susan, thankfully, takes over introductions this round and soon the Abbotts are profusely thanking the Grangers for helping Harry.

“It was no trouble, really,” Daniel insists.

“Besides, we would have missed the show if we didn't find Harry,” Emma adds, gesturing to the crowd gathered together. “Though I have to say, this raises more questions than I even know how to get answers for.”

Serena is quick to take the family under her wing, inviting the Granger parents back to Abbott Manor for tea after the kids all depart.

Meanwhile, the kids have fully separated from the adults, with Rolf, Susan, Michael, Hannah, Hermione, and Morag all conversing with Harry and each other. Even Astoria and Ginny are hanging on the outskirts of the group.

Ginny is actually the first to notice when the Potters start to drift over to the group, with the rest of the Weasley family in tow.

She pulls Harry in for a hug. “Write to me, ok? It’s going to suck being at home all by myself this year, and I want to hear about Hogwarts from someone besides my brother.”

Harry laughs and promises to write. He smiles at Astoria, promising to write to her as well.

Serena Abbott, noticing Lily approaching them, pulls Harry into a tight hug. “Remember Harry, I’m just a letter away if you need me. Ok?”

Harry nods. “Thank you, Serena and Mitchell, for hosting me for the summer. It was without a doubt the best weeks of my life.”

Serena gives Harry a watery smile, as Jeremy hugs Harry again and Mitchell pushes Harry towards the train, quick to keep the boy from entering a conversation with his “mother”. Afterall, Harry lit a letter on fire just because it was written by the woman. There’s no telling how he would react to having to actually converse with the woman.

Harry shoots off a quick goodbye to the Grangers and Amelia Bones, picking up Hedwig’s cage and rushing towards the train.

He’s only a bit surprised to see that Morag is the only one who followed him. It makes sense. Everyone else has someone to say goodbye too. Hermione and Hannah to their parents, and Michael to his mother. Rolf to his grandparents and Susan to her aunt.

Morag and Harry are the only ones without family.

“So, do you know where my stuff is?” Harry asks sheepishly.

Morag giggles and nods. “Yeah, when I ran into the Abbotts, they had decided to put your things with Hannah’s in one of the compartments. Mine and Michael’s things are in there too. By the way, you have like a lot of friends.”

Harry shrugs. “I guess.”

Truthfully, Harry doesn’t know how long that will last. But he’s certainly making the most of it while it does.

Morag leads Harry to the compartment and the two start to fill each other in on everything that has happened since they saw each other a little over a week ago, when the rest of Harry’s friends pour into the compartment.

Michael sits on the other side of Harry, with Hannah sitting next to him. Hermione and Susan are discussing how introductions differ between the wizarding world and the muggle one. Rolf just seems very amused with the whole situation. He eventually starts a conversation with Morag, who blushes and stammers for the most part, but Rolf doesn’t seem to mind.

Hannah and Michael, on the other hand, seem to hover over Harry, pestering him with questions about whether he’s alright or not and how he’s feeling.

Hedwig chirps along with his friends, seemingly laughing at Harry’s predicament.

“Stupid bird,” Harry curses. Hedwig just chirps again and raises her foot at Harry, extending her middle toe.

“I think my owl just gave me the middle finger,” Harry complains to the compartment.

“She did,” Rolf says, getting laughs out of the whole compartment as Harry glares at the bird.

The next half hour of the train ride is spent with the teenagers all rapidly switching between conversations with one another. Morag is happy to talk with Harry and Hannah, because she knows them best, but she is also happy to converse with Hermione, a fellow muggleborn, and Rolf, who seems to have quite an effect on the girl.

Susan and Hermione spend most of the time conversing and talking about differences between their two worlds, with Michael occasionally joining to talk about his contrasting experience growing up in wizarding America.

Hannah either talks with Harry or joins the conversation with Rolf and Morag. And Harry, for the most part is just happy to sit back and listen.

Everything is going smoothly, until the door to the compartment opens up.

Harry sneers at his twin and his red-headed friend. He doesn’t know the brunette girl who’s with them, but she doesn’t seem overly hostile.

“Yes Heir Apparent Potter?” Susan asks as Charles stares at his brother. Susan is technically the most noble person in the compartment, so traditionally, she should be addressed first.

Charles shakes his head, clearing his throat and turning to Susan. “It appears the heirs and heiresses of the Dark Alliance starting this year are all gathered together, and even the few Grey Alliance heirs and heiresses are gathered. We think it’s best if we all showed unity and sat in the same apartment for the rest of the trip. Heir Apparents Longbottom, Macmillan, and Finnegan and Heiresses Brown, Jones, and both Patils are all already gathered. We were hoping that you, Heir Apparent Bones, Heir Apparent Scamander, Heiress Abbott, and Ward Diggory would all join us.”

“What about Harry?” Michael asks.

“And Hermione and Morag?” Rolf adds.

“Your friends will be able to join us,” the girl says. “Hello Heir Potter, I am Heiress Fay Dunbar. Pleasure to meet you.”

Harry nods in response before standing up. “Pleasure to meet you as well. And thank you, Heiress Dunbar, for the invitation. But I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

Ron sneers at Harry while Charles seems intent at staring at the ground. Fay looks increasingly distressed as Charles and Ron continue to cause the situation to deteriorate, and the rest of the heirs and heiresses get even angrier with the two.

“We don’t have to go Harry,” Hannah says. “We can just stay here.”

The frowns on Susan’s and Michael’s face clearly say otherwise.

Harry shakes his head. “No, go ahead. I want to explore the train anyways. Morag, Hermione, would you care to join me?”

Hermione nods immediately, standing to join Harry. She may have had a pleasant conversation with Susan, but Harry was the one that introduced her to all of his friends. And besides, she can also tell when she’s not wanted.

Morag stares at both Hannah and Rolf searchingly before standing up, grabbing her bag as she does.

Harry smiles at his friends before leaving the compartment with the two girls.

________________________________________

The last hour of Hermione’s life is up there with some of the most exciting and confusing of her life, currently only topped by the time Professor Minerva McGonagall showed up at her house over the summer and proved that magic did in fact exist to the Granger family.

Hedwig chirps in her cage at Harry, and Harry just rolls her eyes at the bird. “Yes Hedwig, I know I forgot to let you into the library trunk. As soon as we find a new compartment, I will. Ok?”

Hedwig lets out another loud chirp before nodding.

Morag smiles at the bird. She’s gotten at least somewhat used to Hedwig’s behavior due to the letters she’s exchanged with Harry since they met.

Hermione is absolutely stunned by how communicative the bird is, but she decides to just accept the fact that Hedwig isn’t a normal owl. Besides, a surprisingly sassy owl is not the biggest surprise of the day.

“Where are we going?” Hermione asks Harry and Morag.

Morag just shrugs. “Don’t look at me. Before today, the only people I knew from this world were Harry and Hannah and I only met them a week ago. Harry’s the expert here.”

“I’ve only been in this world for a month Morag, I’m hardly an expert.”

“Tell that to all the people that flocked toward you,” Hermione teases. “I didn't know I made friends with the most popular boy at our new school.”

Harry chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Trust me, I doubt I’ll be the most popular. I’m just very interesting right now. I’m like a new toy one Christmas day. Great for a while, then good, then forgotten by the next holiday season. I’m pretty sure half of those people will stop talking to me within a few months once we get sorted into different houses and it becomes more difficult to stay together. It’ll be interesting to see who sticks around though, if any.”

Neither Morag nor Hermione are very surprised by Harry’s pessimistic view. Of the three, none of them have any non-familial bonds, and Hermione is the only one with strong parental bonds.

They all know the crushing truth that sometimes people are disappointing. Every single one of them has had a brief encounter or a short friendship that they thought could lead to something meaningful. To a bond. But they were left in the dust every time.

Harry loves his new friends. But he doesn’t trust them.

Morag and Hermione can’t help but feel the same.

“To answer your original question, I’m looking for a compartment that’s either empty or has someone I know.”

“Why didn't we just stay in that compartment then?” Morag asks. “The others were going to leave.”

“I didn't want to give my brother the satisfaction,” Harry says.

“Isn’t your brother the boy-who-lived?” Hermione asks, starting to connect the dots from her reading. “Was that him back there?”

“Yes,” Harry answers tersely, and even though both Hermione and Morag are naturally curious, they are smart enough to realize that that particular topic is off-limits.

Harry leads them through the train cars, finally stopping at one near the edge of the train. They hadn’t been able to find a single empty compartment, but Harry at least knows someone in this one.

Harry knocks on the compartment door before opening it. “Hey Cedric. Can me and my friends join you?”

Cedric nods, letting Harry and the girls inside. The trio sit across from Cedric and the pretty Asian girl. Harry assumes this is the ravenclaw friend that Cedric mentioned when they first met.

“Hi,” the girl greets. “I’m Heiress Cho Chang of the Noble House of Chang. Please, just call me by my first name. Pleasure to meet all of you!”

Harry smiles at the girl. “Hello, I’m Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. And these are my friends, Miss Morag MacDougal and Miss Hermione Granger. Please just call me by my first name as well. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

Hermione and Morag give Cedric and Cho permission to call them by their first names as well, and the conversation starts to flow from there.

Hermione and Morag are fascinated to learn that Cedric is Michael’s stepbrother, and that Cedric and Cho are best friends, despite being from different years and in different houses.

“It’s definitely rare, but if you want to stay friends with someone, you can do it. It just takes a bit more effort,” Cho tells the three first years.

All three of them exchange glances, hesitantly smiling at one another.

“So Harry, I’m surprised my brother would even let you out of his sight after that scare this morning. How did you convince hi-”

A knock on the compartment door interrupts Cedric, and Cedric opens the door to two boys, both clearly first years.

The first is a pale boy with dark neatly set hair and a very aristocratic appearance. Harry is sure the boy is a pureblood at first, before he sees the boy’s watch and realizes that he’s most likely a muggleborn, though probably from a wealthy family.

The other boy is much taller than the first and his dark skin contrasts with the first heavily. He gives a much more humble tone at first than the other boy.

“Excuse me,” the first boy says. “Could we join you? The compartment we were sitting in got co-opted for some kind of private meeting and it was clear that neither Dean nor I made the invite list.”

Cedric and Cho frown as Harry waves the two in. Introductions are quickly made and soon two new muggleborns, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Dean Thomas are sitting next to Cedric and Cho.

“To answer your question Cedric, my genius brother decided to have a meeting for all the heirs, heiresses, and wards of the Light Alliance that started this year. It was definitely impromptu and it was clear that neither myself, Hermione, nor Morag were invited.”

Cho and Cedric’s frowns deepen as Justin and Dean confirm the story. Apparently they were sitting with Ernie Macmillan, Seamus Finnegan, Megan Jones, and a few others when Harry’s twin burst in, demanding that the Light Alliance needed to have a meeting.

“Are you kidding me?” Cho asks, clearly enraged. Cedric’s jawline is jutted out as a look of anger crosses his face. “The Light Alliance is supposed to make all muggleborns on their first train ride feel comfortable and welcome, not kick them out of their train compartment.”

“And those meetings are just for show anyways,” Cedric says. “There is absolutely no reason for them to act like that!”

“To be fair,” Hermione starts to say. “The people we were sitting with clearly weren’t happy, but I guess they didn't really have a choice.”

“No they didn't,” Cho says. “The only person in your compartment that could tell Charles Potter to shove it is Susan Bones, but she’s on thin ice ever since the incident a few weeks ago.”

Cedric smirks at the memory and even Harry looks pleased at the reminder of Susan’s actions.

“What happened?” Justin asks.

“Harry’s brother did something very very stupid,” Cedric explains, looking to Harry to make sure the boy doesn’t have a problem with him explaining further. Harry nods and Cedric continues. “And Charles’ friend, Ron, said some very crude and inappropriate things about the incident. Susan Bones, Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones and a personal friend of Harry’s, ensured that Ron regretted his words.”

“Oh … good,” Justin says.

Harry smiles at the boy, and Justin smiles back. Dean just looks uncomfortable with the conversation, and Harry wonders if he made friends with Charles and Ron already.

“I have half a mind to go down there and tell Heir Apparent Potter that he needs to do his duty as head of the Light Alliance members of his year and ensure that the muggleborns are actually cared for. Harry is doing a better job, and he wasn’t even invited. Even though he should have been.”

“I wouldn’t have gone anyways,” Harry says. “My brother’s a jackass.”

Morag and Cho both snort, and Justin and Cedric laugh as Dean and Hermione both look shocked, though Hermione much less so than Dean.

Hedwig starts to chirp incessantly and Harry curses. “Sorry Hedwig. I know I forgot. Hey, it’s been a crazy day alright. Cut me some slack.”

Hedwig flips Harry off again, much to Morag’s and Hermione’s amusement. And the rest of the compartment once Hermione fills them in on what Hedwig is doing.

“Do you guys mind if I pull my trunk out?” Harry asks, taking the library trunk out of his pocket.

Cedric and Cho both shake their head, and the muggleborns look too curious to stop him.

Harry sets the trunk on the ground, tapping it twice and letting it grow. When it’s finished, he pulls open the lid, starting to step inside.

He’s halfway down the ladder into the trunk when he turns back to his friends. “Does anyone else want to come? It might be a little cramped, but there should be enough room.”

Cho and Hermione race each other to clamor down into the trunk, with Morag following close behind. Cedric stays behind for a minute to explain to the two boys what a library trunk is before heading in. Justin looks absolutely enthralled with the idea of a library trunk, rushing inside. Dean is much more hesitant, but follows behind everyone, rather than be left alone in the compartment.

Everyone is stunned when they enter the trunk, finding several rows of shelves and a reading area with several cushioned chairs and a table big enough to seat four people. There’s even an owl stand in one of the corners.

Hermione makes a mad dash to the books and Morag, Dean, and Justin follow her. Cedric and Cho just stare at the trunk in amazement.

“Merlin!” Cho exclaims. “Harry, how did you get this?”

“Guilt money,” Harry answers honestly. “And maybe a bit of blackmail.”

Cho shivers at the ease with which Harry says that and the pleased smile on his face. Harry sets Hedwig’s cage down, opening it up and letting the owl fly free. The owl circles the room a few times before settling on top of Harry’s head, clawing at him a few times before relaxing.

Harry just laughs, reaching up to pet Hedwig’s feathers.

“How much did this cost?” Cedric asks, trying to keep any hint of jealousy out of his voice. Books aren’t exactly his favorite pastime, but any trunk this big is highly valuable and very very expensive.

Harry shrugs. “No clue. I asked for top of the line, and I think they delivered. Good on them, doing what they were supposed to do this time.”

Before Cedric or Cho can even begin to respond to that, Harry turns towards the other first years.

“Yes Hermione, you can borrow that book. I’ve already read it twice.”

Hermione squeals, holding up the book in triumph. “You can look at my books later and see if there’s anything you want to read too.”

Harry nods.

Dean eventually heads back up, followed by Cedric and Cho a few minutes later, though not before Cedric ruffles Harry’s hair, which is apparently his signature move, and Cho bemoans the fact that she has to leave the entire way up the ladder leading to the exit of the trunk.

Almost an hour later, when everyone has to get changed into their Hogwarts uniforms, Harry has already lent out two other books to Hermione, another two to Morag, and even one about the British Nobility and Alliance system to Justin. Once everyone is out of the trunk, Harry shrinks it back down, even with Hedwig still inside. She’ll be much more comfortable in the trunk for the next few hours, rather than the cage.

By the time Harry returns to the compartment, he finds that Dean is missing, apparently having gone back to rejoin Charles, Ron, Seamus, and the others.

“Figures,” Justin says. “He seemed to be pandering to them earlier. I mean, I get it. We’re all a bit desperate to make new friends. But I’m not that desperate.”

Harry accepts that answer, letting Cedric and Cho lead them to a gathering of first years once the train has stopped.

Cho says goodbye to all of them, and Cedric pulls Harry in for a hug before Harry can join the rest of the first years.

“Just remember Harry, you can have friends in different houses,” Cedric says. “Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

“Thanks Cedric.”

Cedric smiles at Harry, ruffling his hair one more time before sending him off with the others.

Harry is clearly the last first year to arrive, as all eyes are focused on him. He can see Michael, Hannah, Susan, and Rolf all standing together, but too far away for Harry to get to without causing a scene. So instead, Harry sticks with Hermione, Morag, and Justin, letting the abnormally large man lead them all to boats that sit four people apiece.

Harry and the others are amongst the first to set off across the lake, having no trouble figuring out their seating.

At first it’s just a regular boat ride, if not more mystical. It’s not until they get halfway across the lake that they start to see the castle and the boat ride turns from mystical to fantastical.

Morag and Justin gasp and Hermione grips Harry’s arm, starting to rattle off facts about different features of the castle as she can make them out. Harry half listens but focuses more on the view of the castle itself.

“This is our home for the next seven years,” Morag says, clearly in shock.

“And to think, before this summer we didn't even know about magic,” Justin adds.

“We didn't even know each other until a few hours ago,” Hermione says.

“Imagine how different things would be right now for us, without magic,” Morag says.

“I would be getting ready to start at Eton,” Justin says.

“I would be getting ready to go to my same boring school,” Hermione says.

“Me too,” Morag agrees.

The others all turn to look at Harry, and Harry just laughs before answering.

“My life would suck without magic. It did suck. But now, I can do something to make it better.”

Chapter Text

September 1, 1991
Walking into Hogwarts is truly a magical experience. Torches and free-standing lights lighten up the large hallway that the first years are walking down.

Harry can see Michael, Hannah, Susan, and Rolf walking together, slowly making their way closer to Harry without causing a scene. They have been joined by a few other people, including a light-haired brunette girl that is talking animatedly with Susan, a shy dark-haired boy walking behind Susan, and Heiress Dunbar.

Daphne and Tracey are walking together, with an aristocratic boy with dirty blonde hair following closely behind them.

Charles and Ron have a separate contingent, with several people including a light-haired brunette boy, a light-haired girl who appears to be trying to get Charles’ attention, a dark-haired boy with a mischievous smile who is conversing with Dean, and a set of twins who appear to be of Indian descent.

The last group of students is clearly led by a pale boy with almost bleached blonde hair and a sneer directed at Harry’s twin. The other two in the lead of the group include a tall boy with pitch black hair and a sharp jawline, and a girl with chocolate hair that matches Michael’s and a mischievous look in her eyes. She turns to look at Harry and smile, which causes Harry to quickly turn away.

Most of the first years are gathered in these four groups with only a student or two hanging on the outskirts.

And of course, Harry is walking with both Hermione and Morag at his side, with Justin on the other side Hermione.

“Does anyone know where they are going to be sorted?” Justin asks.

Morag shakes her head and Harry just shrugs.

“Maybe Ravenclaw?” Hermione guesses. “I would like Gryffindor too though.”

Justin nods. “I think that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would both be good for me. I was thinking Slytherin, but I’ve heard they don’t always treat people like us the best.”

Morag and Hermione both nod in agreement, and Harry can practically feel the bleached blonde boy glare at him. In fact, Harry does a quick glance around and realizes that practically everyone is watching their group.

Harry just rolls his eyes and continues to walk with his new friends.

“I don’t know what house I’m going to be in. It’s really a toss-up,” Harry says.

“Same for me,” Morag answers.

The four continue to converse as everyone walks down the hall until they run into an imposing older woman with a stern, yet somehow kind face.

“Hello students,” the woman greets. “My name is Professor McGonagall. I am the Deputy Headmistress here at Hogwarts, as well as the Head of Gryffindor and the Transfiguration Professor. As I’m sure all of you know, you are about to be sorted into your Hogwarts house. Your house will be your family for the next seven years here at Hogwarts. There is Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. You will all be sorted in alphabetical order and once all of you are sorted, the welcoming feast will begin. Are there any questions?”

Everyone shakes their head, all too anxious to speak.

“Then please, let’s enter the great hall.”

The large doors open up, showing four large tables filled with students, free-standing lights, and a smaller table on the other side of the room elevated by stairs, with a stool and a lone hat sitting on the stool.

Harry is stunned when the hat starts to sing, so shocked that he almost trips over his robes before Hermione and Morag catch him. Harry can see a few students snickering at him but he pays them no mind as the hat finishes up its song.

Professor McGonagall walks up to the stool and the hat, pulling a piece of parchment out of her robes and starting to read from a prepared list.

“Hannah Abbott.”

________________________________________

Hannah always knew she would be the first one called to be sorted. There are very few names further ahead of Abbott in alphabetical order.

Susan squeezes Hannah’s hand in support and Michael and Rolf smile at her. Hannah starts to move forward when Harry catches her eye.

Harry beams at her, encouraging her to push her forward and walk up the small staircase to the sorting hat.

She sits on the stool, pushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face, as Professor McGonagall sets the sorting hat on her head.

“Intriguing … Very Intriguing. You, Miss Abbott, are very suited for two houses. Yet at the same time, I don’t know if you are truly suited for either of them.”

“What two houses?”Hannah asks the hat, not very surprised that the hat is speaking with her. Her parents both prepared her for this moment.

“What two houses do you think I am talking about Miss Abbott?”

Hannah frowns. “I am hoping that at least one of them is Hufflepuff, but I don’t understand how that isn’t the obvious choice. Both my parents are hufflepuffs. The Abbott family is comprised almost entirely of hufflepuffs. What other house could there be?”

“It matters little, Miss Abbott. I doubt you would accept my recommendation anyway.”

“Ok, but how am I not suited for Hufflepuff?”

“Truthfully, Miss Abbott, you are an incredibly hard-worker. But I have little concrete evidence of your loyalty.”

Hannah bristles.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Truthfully, Miss Abbott, you’ve never had to struggle to be loyal to anyone or anything. It was always so easy. The option that required less hardship. But in the future, your loyalty will almost certainly be tested. I just do not know that you will be able to maintain that loyalty when faced with hardship.”

“Shut up!” Hannah growls, before hearing several gasps of shock from the crowd.

Hannah winces, realizing she just said that out loud. That means she is now officially considered a “troublesome sorting”.

There are three types of “troublesome sortings”.

The first, or the type she is now, is a “Speaker”. Everyone communicates with the hat when they are sorted, but rarely is that communication out loud. Generally, talking during the sorting means that the student being sorted disagrees with the hat’s opinion so vehemently that they bypass the hat’s magic to complain or disagree verbally. It’s normal for one or sometimes even two students per year to fall into this category.

The second is called a “Near Hatstall”, or any student that takes more than five minutes to be sorted, but less than ten. Generally, one or two students fall into this category every few years.

The final category, a “Hatstall” is any student that takes more than ten minutes to be sorted. This generally only happens to one student every ten years or so.

Hannah growls at the hat. “I will be loyal. I will be hard-working. I will be the perfect hufflepuff. You’ll see. I’ll make my family proud. I’ll make my friends proud. I’ll make-”

“Harry and Michael proud,” The hat finishes for Hannah. “The real question is, if you had to choose between the two, who would you choose? And what if neither of them choose you? Would you still be loyal to them then?”

Hannah gapes at the hat, trying to piece the words together to answer the hat, when the hat interrupts her.

“Don’t worry, you have time to answer those questions. Not a lot of time, but enough. If you use it wisely.”

“Hufflepuff!”

________________________________________

Hannah scampers off to the Hufflepuff table with her head hung low as the Hufflepuff table cheers for her, though the hufflepuffs are much more sedated and confused since Hannah is now a “Speaker”.

Susan tries to catch her friend’s eye, but Hannah doesn’t look up from the ground as she sits down next to Cedric, letting Michael’s stepbrother comfort her.

“Susan Bones.”

Susan looks to Michael and Rolf, asking them to keep an eye on Hannah, and they both nod at her, prompting her towards the front of the Great Hall.

Susan sits on the stool, letting Professor McGonagall place the hat on her head.

“Well, this is certainly turning out to be an interesting year. Two sortings in, and already two students that could be sorted into multiple houses. How intriguing.”

Susan resists the urge to sigh.

“So, I’m good for two houses. Let me guess, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?”

The sorting hat laughs, shaking a little bit on the top of her head.

“Silly girl, I never said that you could be sorted into just two houses. Truthfully, you are so interesting because you could potentially be sorted into any of the four houses.”

Susan blanches.

“Four? All of them?”

“Yes, I know. It is very rare. I only get a student who can be sorted into all four houses every five years or so. Though, I have a feeling this year might be a bit different.”

“Ok, but why am I so different? There’s nothing special about me. I’m just … me.”

The hat laughs again.

“You are Susan Bones, Heir Apparent to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones. One day, sooner than you probably think, you will be one of the most influential people in British Wizarding society, and maybe even beyond. You are brave, intelligent, cunning, and incredibly loyal. You are indeed just you, but who you are is quite incredible.”

“But … I don’t want to be that. I mean, I’ve never felt the need to be a powerful witch. I’ve always just wanted to-”

“Protect your family and friends. Support them. Have them lean on you. It is an admirable goal, Susan. And one very few people understand, let alone make for themselves. Especially at such a young age. You will do great things Susan, because of that incredible goal.”

“But I still don’t get how that makes it to where I can be sorted into all four houses.”

“Let me explain it like this. Do you remember when you cursed young Mr. Weasley.”

Susan blushes and nods.

“Well, that incident alone perfectly illustrates why you would fit so well into all four houses. Your initial action was foolhardy and rash, but it was also brave and courageous. You, Susan, have the heart of a lion.”

“But-”

“After that, you took a step back from the scene and realized what you had done and that your actions would have consequences. You not only had the knowledge to form a successful plan thanks to countless hours of reading and studying, but the cunning to back the Weasley family into a corner while you came out relatively blameless for the whole situation after throwing several curses at a Minor Noble Heir.”

“They were just jinxes, not bad curses. And-”

“This proves that you have the mind of not only an eagle, but also a snake.”

“Wait-”

“But none of this would have been possible without the intense loyalty you hold for young Mr. Potter. A boy you only met a week prior to your vigorous defense of him. A boy you have only met a handful of times, and who you still hold intense loyalty for.”

Susan almost instinctively seeks out Harry, notices the sea of frowns and looks of concerns on the crowd.

But then she reaches Harry, and the boy is smiles at her, and Susan relaxes and smiles back.

“He’s not angry at me,” Susan says to the hat. “And I don’t know how. I don’t understand. But I will. I will understand Harry better. I will be his friend. He’s so different from everyone else I’ve ever met. Fragile, but so so strong. I want to be there for him. I want to support him and lean him in tandem. So I will. I will be there for him. I will be his friend.”

“Yes, you certainly will.”

“Hufflepuff!”

Susan stands up, handing the hat to Professor McGonagall. She walks to the Hufflepuff table, taking a seat next to Hannah and Cedric.

It’s only later that someone informs her that it took Susan just shy of seven minutes to be sorted.

The first “Near Hatstall” of the sorting.

But certainly not the last.

________________________________________

After the first two sortings, everyone was hoping that the rest of the night went smoothly.

While everyone else was watching Hannah shout at the hat, and Susan take almost seven minutes to be sorted, Tracey’s eyes were planted firmly on her best friend.

She could practically feel Daphne’s mind stirring after the two girls’ unique sortings.

Tracey knows that Daphne has already had to rearrange her plans a few times this summer because of Hannah’s and Susan’s involvement in Harry’s life and Tracey is afraid that her friend is going to go into overload if there are many more sortings like the first two.

Thankfully, the next five are relatively simple, with no sorting taking more than two minutes and no one talking out loud during their sorting.

Terry Boot, Heir Apparent of the Ancient House of Boot, is the first student sorted into Ravenclaw.

Heiress Lavender Brown of the Ancient and Noble House of Brown becomes the first gryffindor and Millicent Bulstrode of Aged House of Bulstrode is the first to be sorted into Slytherin.

Michael Corner of the Aged House of Corner joins Terry in Ravenclaw and Heir Apparent Vincent Crabbe of the Ancient House of Crabbe becomes the second slytherin.

And then it’s Tracey’s turn.

“Tracey Davis.”

Daphne snaps her head up to look at her best friend, and Tracey smiles at Daphne in return. Daphne doesn’t smile back, but Tracey doesn’t need her too.

She already knows she has Daphne’s support.

Tracey lets Professor McGonagall place the hat on her head, shivering when the hat starts to speak to her.

“You have led a very intriguing life for someone so young, Miss Davis. Tragic, but so intriguing.”

“My life is no worse than others,” Tracey says to the hat. “And I have had good years with the Greengrasses.”

“Yes, you certainly made the best of a bad situation. Very clever of you, Miss Davis. You realized that young Miss Greengrass was interested in you and your ability from a young age. And you used that to your advantage. Quite clever.”

“I agree. Which is why I belong in Slytherin.”

“Not so fast, Miss Davis. Your actions weren’t nearly as selfish as you portray them to be. You care for Miss Greengrass, or else you never would have bonded with her. Especially not so young. Bondings at such a young age are rare, and while Miss Greengrass may have had more selfish intentions, you clearly do not.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You care for Miss Greengrass. You care for her deeply. She is your best friend, your most trusted confidant. The person you trust most in this world. But you must know, she will never care for you the same way you care for her.”

Tracey resists the urge to yell at the hat. “Daphne does care about me. Maybe not the same way I do, but I don’t care. She cares for me, like she cares for Astoria. And that’s all I need to know.”

The hat laughs. “Of course, Miss Davis, I didn't mean to imply otherwise. But that is an incredibly understanding stance you are taking. Incredibly loyal.”

Tracey bristles. “I belong in Slytherin with Daphne and with-”

“With Harry,” the hat finishes. “It’s interesting just how many sortings young Mr. Potter has affected this year, considering how long he has been in the wizarding world. But each person seems to care for and be affected by Mr. Potter in a different way. Tell me Tracey, do you feel a kinship with Harry? Do you see the haunted look in his eyes and remember when that same look was in your own eyes? Is Harry a mirror to you? A reflection of the past?”

“Leave me alone!” Tracey screams at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t know me; you don’t know anything!”

“Oh, but I do Miss Davis. I can see how loyal you are. To the Greengrass family, your saviors. To Miss Greengrass, your bonded. To Mr. Potter, the boy who you see too many similarities in. The boy you want to protect.”

“If I’m so loyal, then send me to Slytherin. That way I can be there for Daphne and Harry and Astoria. My family and friends. Let me help them. Let me heal them. If I’m so loyal, then fucking let me be loyal!”

“How clever Miss Davis.”

“Slytherin!”

________________________________________

“Michael Diggory.”

Michael bristles. He’s about to correct Professor McGonagall, before Rolf grabs his arm, shaking his head.

Michael shoots a light glare at his friend, before making his way up to the hat.

“Mr. Thorne-Diggory-Parkinson. Interesting. You consider yourself a part of three families. Only fitting that you could potentially be sorted into three houses.”

Michael flinches. “Three?”

“Indeed. Not the highest number I’ve seen today, but still rather uncommon. It’s also interesting how the three houses correlate to the three families you consider yourself a part of.”

“What do you mean?” Michael asks the hat.

“The Thorne family was mostly non-magical, with your father being the first wizard in that family. A muggleborn, a true muggleborn. A powerful wizard with the heart of a lion, so courageous. He fought till his last breath to get home to you and your mother. He wanted nothing more than to see you at least once before he died, but his courage wouldn’t allow him to back down from a fight. Not when innocents were on the line. It was Jonathan Thorne’s greatest strength. And his greatest weakness.”

Michael can feel the tears fall down his face and brings his hand up to wipe them away. He can feel a surge of Rolf’s comforting presence through their bond and Michael clings to it.

“You share that same courage Michael, but you must not let it be your downfall. You must not follow your father’s path.”

“I won’t,” Michael promises.

“Diggory is a family made up almost entirely of hufflepuffs. And in a way, you fit that mold despite only being a ward of the family. I suspect that you somewhat resist Hufflepuff because of your stepfather, but at the same time, you embrace it due to your stepbrother. That is the same reason you do not consider yourself fully part of the Diggory family. Yet, you play the part of a Diggory ward. And mostly because you want to be a part of Cedric’s family. That is incredibly loyal Michael, not to mention the loyalty you feel to your bonded, young Mr. Scamander. To be bonded at such a young age is certainly a feat.”

“But in the same breath, you were only able to be bonded at such a young age because you took advantage of a potentially advantageous situation. You forced your mother’s hand, ensuring that you could bond to your friend far ahead of most schedules for bondings in this world. And you paid a small price to secure your bonding. Quite clever. And that’s not even considering your secret friendship with your cousin, young Miss Parkinson. You’ve managed to keep that a secret from your mother, and even managed to use a favor promised to you to help another friend. And the Parkinsons … they have always been a Slytherin family. You would do well in the house if you so desired. You would be with your cousin, and maybe even Mr. Potter. You would have friends.”

“I’m not a slytherin.”

“Only because you don’t want to be. Only because you aren’t brave enough to try. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you aren’t brave enough for Gryffindor.”

Michael bristles. “I am just making the best decision for myself. The least difficult path.”

“Of course you think that Mr. Thorne-Diggory-Parkinson. Isn’t it interesting though, how different your choices are? How much they contrast each other?”

Michael frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“I am referring to the fact that whichever choice you make, it aligns with the values of a different house. If you choose Gryffindor, it would be the most loyal decision you could make. Gryffindor is the house where Harry is likely to face the most adversaries from. And currently, he has no one in the house that will speak up for him. That will defend him. Going to a house to protect your friend would be the most loyal decision you could possibly make.”

“But if you chose Slytherin, then you would truly be brave. You would be going against years of tradition in the Diggory family and going against your own mother as well. Only your brother and your bonded would truly be by your side if you made the choice to be sorted into Slytherin.”

“And if you choose Hufflepuff … well, it is certainly the smartest path for you as of right now. The path with the least difficulties. Your stepfather will be proud, and your mother will be proud, and your brother and bonded will be happy for you, and you can still associate with Harry if you choose to. You can still be his friend. But you will have chosen the best path for only you. The most selfish path. The easiest path. Dare I say, the cleverest path.”

“Just sort me,” Michael insists, wanting this to be over with. He knows this decision will affect the rest of his life, but Michael can’t possibly begin to process everything the hat has told him. He can’t change his decision. He knows it’s selfish, but he has to take the path that’s best for him.

“Very well. I hope you can live with your decision and make the best of it in the future.”

“Hufflepuff!”

Michael rushes over to the table, taking the seat in between Hannah and Cedric.

Cedric ruffles Michael’s hair and lets his brother scoot closer.

Hannah and Susan stare at Michael, and Michael stiffens when he realizes that everyone in the hall is staring at him.

“Fay Dunbar,” Professor McGonagall calls out as Michael turns to his brother for answers.

Cedric gives Michael a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it Michael. I don’t know if it’s going to be that unusual this year. It’s already happened once.”

“What are you talking about Cedric?”

“Michael, your sorting … it took almost 9 minutes. You were a ‘Near Hatstall’. Even more so than Susan.”

________________________________________

Fay Dunbar is nervous when she sits on the stool.

She is only the tenth student to be sorted this year, and already there have been two “Speakers” and two “Near Hatstalls”.

Fay just hopes she’s not one of them. She’s not supposed to bring attention to herself. She knows that. Her family is content with their position. She’s just supposed to make friends in the Light Alliance and find a partner who is worthy of being married into a Noble House. Nothing more.

Fay tenses when the hat is placed on her head.

“Ahh, Miss Dunbar. How intriguing.”

“No I’m not,” Fay insists.

“But you are. You are very intriguing. Let’s see … the only heir to a second born son of the House of Dunbar. There is little chance that you will ever be the Heir Apparent, let alone the Lady of your house. And you have accepted that. You have accepted a role of complete mediocrity, even at a young age. You bow down to the pressures of your family. You keep parts of yourself hidden so no one pays attention to you. So no one notices you. You languish so you don’t hurt your family’s reputation. You suffer so they don’t. How honorable. How loyal. How … courageous.”

Fay winces. “Courageous? How is that courageous?”

“I suppose that your decision to give into your family’s demands isn’t really all that courageous. I was instead talking about your future actions, Miss Dunbar.”

“Why? What’s so important about me?”

“So much, Miss Dunbar, if only you let yourself be. One day, you will be there at precisely the moment you are needed. But only if you let yourself be. Only if you are brave enough.”

“What if I’m not?”

“Well then, you won’t be there Fay,” the hat says, clearly sounding amused. “The question you have to ask yourself is: ‘Are you loyal or brave?’.”

“Are you loyal or brave?”

“I’m not ei-”

“Loyal or Brave?”

“I’m trying to answer but you won-”

“LOYAL OR BRAVE?”

“What if I’m not eith-”

“LOYAL OR BRAVE!?!”

“Both!” Fay yells out loud. “I’m both.”

“I think so too.”

“Gryffindor!”

________________________________________

“Ahh, my first muggleborn of the year. Congratulations!”

“Uh … thank you?” Justin says to the hat.

“You’re welcome. Now, tell me … what house do you see yourself in?”

“I’m not really sure. Maybe Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? Isn’t that supposed to be your job though? To sort me and to place me in the place I fit best?”

“It should be yes, but I am forced to take each person’s request into consideration, and over the years houses have become political. You will be judged based on what house you are sorted into, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. It’s tragic as it often keeps children from being sorted into the house that they would best fit into. That would help them thrive. That’s why it is refreshing to have a student with no preconceived notions about what house they want to be sorted into. So, I’ll ask you one last time, Mr. Finch Fletchley, what house do you see yourself in?”

“All of them,” Justin answers. “And none of them. Because I don’t know the best answer to the real question you are asking. Do you?”

“Very good, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. If you play your cards right, you will go far in this world.”

“Hufflepuff!”

________________________________________

Seamus Finnegan was an easy sorting for Gryffindor, but Anthony always knew he would be. Seamus was little more than a pawn in this world. A follower for Charles Potter.

Followers … they always put blind faith in people. Blind trust.

It’s idiotic. Stupid. Insane.

Anthony can already see followers in his own year. The students that follow after Charles. The ones that hang on Heir Apparent Malfoy’s every word. Heiress Davis to Heir Apparent Greengrass. Even those three muggleborns looking to Harry for support despite the fact that they barely know him.

Followers are weak. Followers are stupid. Followers get killed.

Anthony Goldstein is not a follower.

The hat is placed on his head and Anthony barely reacts when the hat starts to speak to him.

“Ahh Mr. Goldstein. It’s a pleasure. How intriguing. You already have a house selected?”

Anthony nods. “Yes, I do. I have calculated and given my goals, Ravenclaw is my best option. It is considered the Greyest house, which will allow me to still associate with everyone except for possibly Gryffindors.”

“So, you’ve made a decision.”

Anthony frowns. “A decision.”

“On who you are going to associate with,” the hat clarifies. “You’ve made a decision.”

“No, I haven’t. Ravenclaw is the best house because it doesn’t require me to make a decision.”

“Mr. Goldstein, don’t insult me. We both know why you made that decision. Yes, it has the benefit you are claiming, but that is not the reason you’ve selected it.”

“Pray tell then, what is the reason?”

“You have made your decision based upon four people. Let’s go in backwards order based on much each person affects your choice-”

“Wait-”

“Young Mr. Potter. Not the so-called ‘boy-who-lived’ but the new one. The intriguing one. You’ve never even met the boy, yet he affected your decision. Why?”

Anthony can’t help but let his mind drift. Drift to all the stories Anthony has heard about Harry over the summer. Accounts from his cousin. The meeting with Pansy, Michael, Cedric, and Rolf that revolved around the boy. The constant movement of the magic surrounding Harry. The way Harry has garnered the attention of so many people in such a short amount of time. The way the boy holds the loyalty of so many people already, not unyielding loyalty, but it could be one day. One day soon.

“I see. And being in Ravenclaw would allow you to still associate with Harry no matter where he is sorted, as long as it is Gryffindor, and you assume that Harry being sorted there is very unlikely. Intriguing. Now, the second reason, Susan Bones. She is very intriguing. I applaud your choice. She will make a valuable ally if you decide to build upon that friendship.”

Anthony isn’t stupid. He knows how incredible Susan is. She’s been raised since birth by the powerhouse that is Amelia Bones, but has never once been curtailed by her aunt. Susan has always done what she knows needs to be done. Out of all of Rolf’s friends, Susan is the only one that Anthony completely approves of. Hannah is too flighty and Michael too caring of other people’s opinions.

“And you hold such loyalty to your cousin. He is more a brother to you than a cousin. And being sorted into Ravenclaw will allow you to maintain that kinship with Mr. Scamander and cultivate a friendship with Susan. But the last reason is the most intriguing.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Yes you do Anthony. Lisa Turpin. Your best friend. The object of your affections. Your first and only attraction. The girl that holds your heart. She is likely heading to a Ravenclaw sorting, at least according to you. And you … you want to be by her side.”

Anthony considers refuting the hat’s claim, but just sighs instead, knowing the hat has him pegged. “And? What’s your point?”

“Oh nothing. Just my musings. You will do well in Ravenclaw. Despite your more snake-like qualities, the house of the eagles still suits you best.”

“Then what was all this for? Why tell me all of this?”

“Because you needed to hear it, Mr. Goldstein.”

“Ravenclaw!”

________________________________________

The oafish boy, Gregory Goyle, walks over to the cheering Slytherin table.

“Hermione Granger,” Professor McGonagall calls out.

Hermione tenses, turning to look at Morag and Harry for support.

Morag just smiles at Hermione, and Harry reaches out to squeeze her hand before letting it go.

Hermione smiles back at her two new friends before making her way up the stage. She lets Professor McGonagall place the hat on her head.

“Intriguing Miss Granger. Most intriguing.”

“Who said that?” Hermione asks.

“Please Miss Granger, we both know you know I’m the sorting hat. Let’s not insult your intelligence by believing otherwise.”

Hermione blushes before nodding.

“Now, as I was saying, you are very intriguing Miss Granger. Just as apparently almost everyone in your year is intriguing. But you … you are different. You seem to align so strongly with two houses.”

“Which two houses?” Hermione asks the hat, only for the hat to ignore the question.

“Anyone who has a passing conversation with you would immediately place you into Ravenclaw. Without hesitation. You have a thirst for knowledge and a passion and drive to learn that is almost as strong as Rowena Ravenclaw herself. You would be a perfect Ravenclaw, but still … I hesitate to sort you into the house.”

“Why?”

“There’s a certain quality you have, Miss Granger. A certain … fearlessness.”

Hermione frowns. “I quite doubt that. I am certainly not fearless.”

“Not entirely, no. But no one is. But you are fearless in many situations. You think logically through every scenario and apply yourself rigorously to your studies and learning. But you also think with your heart. Otherwise, you would have never approached Mr. Potter today at the train station.”

“Ok, but why does that mean you are hesitant to sort me into Ravenclaw?”

“You are a genius Miss Granger. I know that, you know that, everyone that meets you knows that. It’s been practically branded on you for as long as you can remember. Most people don’t think of you as an actual person anymore, they only view you as a genius. That is common for many geniuses and it actually exacerbates one of the worst qualities many geniuses have. It leads to them viewing themselves as only geniuses and cutting themselves off from other people, from the world around them. They become detached from humanity, focusing more on facts and the gaining of knowledge. Ravenclaw is filled with plenty of geniuses, but you are different from all of them. Because you still allow your heart to lead you. Not all of the time, but enough. Your heart led you to try to help Mr. Potter this morning at the train station. Your heart keeps you from constantly studying and absorbing new information. Your heart opens your horizons in ways that most geniuses could only wish for. You have a big heart Miss Granger. And that’s why I hesitate to put you into Ravenclaw. You would do well in Ravenclaw, but Ravenclaw would only improve your mind, not your heart.”

“So, where would you sort me instead?”

“Tell me Hermione, how do you feel about Mr. Potter?”

“About Harry? He’s … he’s really nice. Not to everyone, but to a lot of people. He cares for a lot of people, but he hates a lot of people too. Truly hates, not that light hatred that most people experience. He’s hurting. He’s unbonded and I can’t really begin to understand why. He’s sociable and well-liked by many people and he supposedly has a family, but he’s still unmarked. And it’s clear he realizes that too. And I know what that’s like. I’ve always had my parents’ marks, but never any others and … people can be really cruel. I can’t even imagine what they said to Harry. What they did to Harry. And I don’t understand because everything I’ve learned about Harry since meeting him has just led me to the opinion that he is a great friend. He’s my first friend.”

“And would you say that you want to protect Mr. Potter?”

“Why does Harry need protection? Who is trying to hurt him?”

“Answer the question, Miss Granger. And then you’ll get answers.”

“Yes of course I want to protect Harry. He’s my first friend. My only friend.”

“Good. Earlier this evening I posed that question to another student, but they weren’t willing to take the leap required of them to fully protect Harry. I wonder if you are.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Mr. Potter, your friend’s twin and his friend, Mr. Weasley are considered by many to be prime candidates for Gryffindor. And Harry has made few friends with anyone else that is considered to be in line for that house. If Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley speak negatively about your Mr. Potter, there will be no one to defend him within the house. And that could see many coming to incorrect conclusion about your Mr. Potter.”

“But if there was someone there to defend him, then maybe they could stop that,” Hermione guesses.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll do it. Sort me into Gryffindor.”

“Not so fast, Miss Granger. Gryffindor will hardly be a walk in the park. Ravenclaw will be much easier for you. People will respect you in that house for your intelligence, but they might just despise you for it in Gryffindor. And you will be standing against the boy-who-lived himself in order to defend Harry. Are you sure that-”

“Yes,” Hermione answers with finality clear in her voice. “Stop asking like you’ll get another answer if you do. Let’s not insult your intelligence like that.”

That hat chuckles. “Very well Miss Granger. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Gryffindor!”

Hermione stands up, handing the hat to Professor McGonagall before making her way over to the Gryffindor table.

She can hear whispers of students as she walks, making out snippets such as “Near Hatstall” and “six minutes”, before Professor McGonagall calls out the next name on the list, who just happens to be one of Harry’s friends.

________________________________________

Daphne takes a seat on the stool, letting the hat be placed on her head.

“Slytherin! Merlin’s balls, this girl definitely belongs in Slytherin.”

Daphne smiles, handing the hat back to Professor McGonagall and walking to the Slytherin table, taking a seat next to Tracey. She ignores the stares thrown in her direction. They matter very little to her.

Harry smiles at her and gives her a thumbs up from where he is standing in the middle of the room. He is obviously enjoying himself. How interesting.

________________________________________

Megan can’t help but be a little nervous when she’s called up for her sorting.

The night has certainly been interesting. So far there have been three “Speakers” and three “Near Hatstalls”, not to mention whatever just happened with Heir Apparent Greengrass’ sorting and they aren’t even halfway through the sortings.

Megan really doesn’t want to be next. She knows there are definitely some benefits in being a “troublesome sorting”. Her aunt, Gwenog Jones, was a “Near Hatstall” after all and it certainly gave her some attention at Hogwarts. If Megan was careful, she could use some of that attention to snag one of the better guys at Hogwarts.

But Megan doesn’t want that. She may be “boy crazy” as some people call her, but Megan never wants to trick a guy into dating her. Let alone marrying her. She wants someone that truly wants to be with her, no matter what her father and mother say.

“Miss Jones, another intriguing one. We are certainly in no short supply of that tonight.”

“Thank you?”

The hat chuckles. “I have a few questions for you, Miss Jones, but I think this will be a fairly uneventful sorting, at least in comparison.”

Megan lets out a sigh of relief before nodding.

“First, what would you rather do in your free time, read a book or play a game?”

“Play a game,” Megan answers. “I prefer to be around people.”

“I never said the game would include other people, but very well Miss Jones. Now, you are friends with Susan, correct?”

Megan nods. “Yes. I mean, I’m not as close to Susan as she is to Hannah, but we are still definitely friends.”

“Excellent. Now, tell me, you’ve seen all of the more intricate conversations and dealings that Susan is forced into as an Heir Apparent to a Most Ancient and Noble House. Would you be willing to step into Susan’s life, if it meant getting the guy of your dreams?”

“No, I am who I am.”

“Of course. Now, next question. Oliver Wood or Cedric Diggory?”

Megan blushes profusely, resisting the temptation to look at the two boys.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Please answer the question Miss Jones.”

“But … what if I don’t have an answer for you?”

“Explain.”

“Well, Oliver and Cedric are easily two of the cutest guys in Hogwarts and everyone knows I like both of them, but I couldn’t choose between them. Because I wouldn’t choose either of them. Sure, they are both great guys and great to stare at, but neither of them has shown even a bit of interest in me.”

“And that’s an issue for you?”

“Yes. I need someone to care for, but I need them to care for me in return.”

“So you value loyalty? Honesty? Commitment?”

“I … I guess you could say that.”

“Very well Miss Jones. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hufflepuff!”

________________________________________

Neville watches as Su Li is sorted into Ravenclaw before his name is called.

Neville timidly steps up to the sorting hat, letting Professor McGonagall set it on his head.

“How intriguing Mr. Longbottom.”

Neville tenses. “Are you sure?”

The hat chuckles. “I am indeed. You are very intriguing, Mr. Longbottom. Most people tend to forget you, but they are lesser for it. You exist in the shadow of an overpowering and overbearing guardian and many people think that has affected you negatively. And it undoubtedly has, but not to the degree that everyone assumes. They take your silence as passiveness and assume that you are a pushover. And perhaps you are to a certain degree, but I see more in you.”

“Most people think I should be sorted into Hufflepuff,” Neville says to the hat. “They say that I’m hardworking and loyal. And I agree with them. I’m not brave or strong like my parents were. They … they did everything to protect others. To protect me. I’m not brave like they were.

“I have little doubt that you would do well in Hufflepuff, Neville. I think you could accomplish great things in that house. You would make great friends, strengthening the friendship you already have with Susan and building others. You would have everything you’ve ever wanted. You would have a family. But Hufflepuff doesn’t need you Neville. They don’t need someone with your quiet strength. They have that in spades. But Gryffindor, they lack that quiet resilience. They lack quiet anything. Hufflepuff could give you everything you’ve ever wanted, and I have no doubt your parents would be proud of you, for putting yourself first. But if you want to be great, truly great, you need to go to a place that needs you. And that’s not Hufflepuff.”

“But what if I’m not good enough? Gryffindor … it tends towards the loudest individuals. I know that. Charles Potter and Ron Weasley will lead our year simply because they are the loudest and people will listen. You say I’m supposed to do something with my quiet strength, but quiet strength just means that no one is going to listen. How am I supposed to do something useful in Gryffindor like you want me to if no one will listen to me?”

“Make them. Be there. Be the silent strength they all need but don’t understand. Seek out those few you find worthy and let the rest come to you Neville. If they are worth your time, they will come. Be a shining beacon of what the house of Gryffindor is supposed to be and not what it has become. Be the quiet strength of the house and let the noise subside and lessen until your quiet strength is unheard by those too ignorant to listen and deafens those smart enough to understand. Be great Neville. Be the example.”

“But I-”

“Be great Neville. Be the example. Be what they need, not what they want.”

“I don’t know how,” Neville says.

“You will.”

“Gryffindor!”

Only later on in the evening will Neville learn that his sorting was just over the five-minute mark, landing him in the “Near Hatstall category” along with Hermione, Susan, and Michael.

________________________________________

“Ahh Miss MacDougal, a pleasure to meet you.”

Morag frowns.

“Harry, is the hat supposed to talk?” Morag asks, turning to the boy who has helped her the most since she first learned about this new world.

Several gasps of shock are heard throughout the Great Hall and practically everyone in the room is staring at Morag with wide eyes.

But Harry just shakes his head, chuckling at Morag’s reaction. “How should I know? I didn't even know we were going to be sorted by a hat. Though I’m guessing the two of us were some of the few who didn't.”

Morag nods. “Oh ok. That’s weird. Why do you talk?”

“You know, most people don’t talk to me out loud.”

“Why not? Other people did. Why can’t I?”

“Most people prefer to keep this conversation secret, since I have access to the deepest thoughts of the person who is wearing me. Most people don’t want to risk exposing those thoughts.”

“Oh that makes sense. I get that most people have something to hide.”

“But you don’t?”

“No, but can’t you tell that yourself? You are reading my mind after all.”

The entire Great Hall is dead silent as Morag continues to hold a conversation with the hat.

Except for Harry. Harry is struggling and failing to stop himself from laughing as he watches the scene before him.

“Perhaps we should wrap this up, Miss MacDougal. People will start to create preconceived notions about you the longer this conversation continues.”

“Why should I care what they think? Besides, I’m having a pleasant conversation. Other people took almost ten minutes, so I should be allowed to take at least two full minutes.”

The hat starts to laugh at Morag’s response, and Harry quickly joins it, struggling to keep himself upright. At the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, Justin and Hermione are both laughing as well as Morag continues to stun the entire room.

“Fine, just sort me then. I don’t care where I go. I know you’ll probably make the best choice anyway. At least I hope so. That is your job after all.”

Harry is now actually leaning on Rolf for support as Morag continues, and even Rolf is chuckling along with Harry.

“Alright then … better be Ravenclaw!”

Morag stands up the hat, handing it to a stunned Professor McGonagall and calmly walks over to the Ravenclaw table.

Anthony Goldstein scoots over to allow her room to sit, one eyebrow raised at her interest.

Morag rolls her eyes. Maybe she did just stick her foot in it.

But she can still make out the laughter of her new friends even as the next person is called up to be sorted, and Morag can’t find it in herself to care.

________________________________________

Ernie Macmillan is sorted into Hufflepuff with little fanfare, which Draco appreciates, considering the near disaster the night is slowly becoming.

“Mr. Malfoy. You insist that you should be sorted into Slytherin, but are you sure you are truly worthy of the house?”

Draco tenses, and looks up at the hat, glaring at it. “Of course I am. Both my parents were slytherins. The Malfoys and Blacks are almost entirely made up of slytherins. I am the Heir Apparent to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy and an Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. One day I will be the Lord of both houses. I have to be sorted into Slytherin.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘Why’? Slytherin is the best choice. It is the only choice for anyone wanting to go into politics.”

“So, would you say that Regent Longbottom is not politically savvy? Or Regent Bones?”

Draco bristles. He knows where the hat is going with this. But there’s no way Draco can truthfully admit that those two ladies aren’t politically savvy. They are the reason the Light Alliance is such a threat.

“No, but-”

“Neither of them were sorted into Slytherin. Regent Longbottom was a Ravenclaw, and Regent Bones a Hufflepuff. So you don’t have to be sorted into Slytherin to be a political powerhouse. Don’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Draco admits.

“You are overrun with biases and logical fallacies. You hinge everything on your family and your power, but you have little to offer yourself, at least for now. Do you really think that your family would be so powerful, so influential, without powerful and intellectual people behind it? Do you think your family would be where it is today without great people? Do you think you get away with being so … subpar?”

“I am not-”

“But you are. I have sorted many children tonight and so many of them put you to shame, Mr. Malfoy. They are intelligent and brave and loyal and cunning and more, but you … you are just arrogant. All you have Mr. Malfoy is arrogance and potential. And one of those will be squandered soon. I just hope you choose the right one. Because your family deserves better. They deserve someone to be proud of.”

“My mother and father are very proud of me!”

“I’m not talking about that family.”

Draco winces, looking out at the gathered students.

Pansy is staring at Draco with worried eyes, though no one would know that but him. After all these years of being betrothed, Draco is one of the few people who can tell what his intended is thinking.

Draco lets his mind drift off. Drift to his cousin, with her bright blonde hair and even brighter ideals. Draco has spent countless hours listening to her musings, and he can’t help but be utterly fascinated by her imagination each and every time.

Draco wants to make them proud. He wants to lead his family and lead them well.

“What do I do?”

“Just be prepared Mr. Malfoy. Be prepared for the future. Be prepared for the changes to come.”

“Slytherin!”
________________________________________

“Ahh, Mr. Nott. You seek to be sorted into Slytherin.”

Theo nods. “Yes. It is the best house for me.”

“I will be the judge of that but tell me why you think that.”

Theo pauses, stunned at the hat’s request. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Please humble me, Mr. Nott. I have had a series of very trying sortings all in one night, a more eventful night than I have had in decades if not centuries. I would appreciate it if you would articulate your reasoning for me.”

“Very well. I wish to be sorted into Slytherin because it is the best option for me. My family has been sorted into Slytherin for centuries now. It is where the Notts feel most at home.”

“Ahh, I see. So you wish to be sorted into Slytherin because it is what is expected of you?”

“I suppose you could see it that way.”

“And what other option is there Mr. Nott?”

“I could simply be proud of my heritage and wish to honor my ancestors.”

“Yes you could, but are you proud of your heritage? Do you wish to honor your ancestors?”

Theo’s silence is deafening, even to himself.

“As I expected. Now tell me, do you have any of the qualities that Slytherin exemplifies a house? Is there any reason you could logically be sorted into Slytherin over another house?”

“I believe myself to be quite clever and cunning.”

The sorting hat laughs. “Yes, I believe you are correct, Mr. Nott. But are you sure those are Slytherin qualities, at least with regard to you?”

“I’m not sure that I know what you mean.”

“And I’m entirely sure that you know what I mean, Mr. Nott.”

“I read that you have to take a student’s desire into consideration during a sorting. I wish to be sorted into Slytherin. Sort me there.”

“You read that? Where exactly, Mr. Nott. How many books did you have to read in order to gain that knowledge? How many books did you read after gaining that knowledge simply out of interest in the subject?”

“Would you like me to answer the question, or was it simply rhetorical?”

The sorting hat laughs. “Simply rhetorical, Mr. Nott.”

“Very well. Do you have another question?”

“Naturally, Mr. Nott. Tell me, what house do you think your mother would have been sorted into?”

Theo bristles. “I would prefer to not discuss it. My mother is a painful topic for me.”

“I understand, Mr. Nott. I apologize for bringing up painful memories.”

Theo just nods in response.

“Tell me Theo, do you think you would do poorly in Ravenclaw?”

“No, not personally. But I would face consequences I am not currently wishing to face. My Hogwarts house is of little issue to me personally. Slytherin will do me just fine.”

“You do know the struggles of being a Slytherin, correct? The politics and the backstabbing and the people you can never fully trust.”

“I know the struggles. I know everything I need to know, including that I am the Heir Apparent and sole heir to a Most Ancient and Noble House. I am untouchable as far as Slytherin is concerned. And besides, I’ve never trusted anybody.”

“Yes, I can see that. Do you suppose that will ever change?”

“I have little confidence in that particular circumstance changing.”

“Intriguing. I will advise you to keep an open mind, Mr. Nott. But I will do as you wish.”

“You’re going to sort me into Slytherin?”

“Of course, Mr. Nott. It is your wish. Besides, I believe you can do well in that house, if you so desired.”

“I do.”

“Very Well. Then it must me Slytherin!”

Theo walks over the Slytherin table sitting close enough to Draco and his friends to align himself with them, but not so close as to completely ignore Heir Apparent Greengrass and Heiress Davis.

“What is your secret, Heir Apparent Nott?” Daphne asks, just as Professor McGonagall calls Pansy’s name.

“What do you mean, Heir Apparent Greengrass?”

“She’s asking what it’s like to be a ‘Near Hatstall’,” Draco informs Theo coldly. “Your sorting, it took nearly six minutes.”

________________________________________

Pansy Parkinson already knew everything she needed to know about the sorting hat.

It was created by the founders themselves and is as old as Hogwarts itself. The hat can look past all Occlumency barriers and read the mind of the person whose head they are sitting on but cannot reveal any of that information without the explicit permission from said person.

And then of course there are the rumors about the hat. That the hat lets so-called “troublesome sortings” happen to students he finds worthy, while others insist that being a difficult sorting means that the person is not worthy of any house. And then there are the absolutely absurd rumors that the hat knows the location of the missing house relics or even the fabled Lordship and Vassal armors. Some even claim that the hat itself has the power to install a new Lord or Lady for the four founders' houses.

Pansy highly doubts that last one.

“Intriguing, Miss Parkinson. Very intriguing. I wasn’t expecting such loyalty from you. I find myself pleasantly surprised.”

“Dare I ask, what loyalty are you referring to?”

The hat laughs. “Oh, Miss Parkinson. You amuse me. But anyone with eyes can see the way you care for your family. For your betrothed. For your cousin. For your father. They will all need your guidance in the future to avoid numerous pitfalls. I just hope that you don’t fail them or yourself.”

Pansy’s eyes widen, and she struggles to not give off any other physical indicators of her shock. “Wait, what pitfa-”

“Slytherin!”

Pansy grimaces, but quickly resigns herself to her fate. She knows the hat won’t give her any answers, not now that she’s been sorted.

She hands the hat to Professor McGonagall, before quickly making her way over to Draco’s side.

________________________________________

Padma walks up to the sorting hat, and she can already feel the sweat collecting on her palms.

She knows what’s coming. Padma isn’t stupid. She’s known for months now, really for years.

She’s been dreading this day for a long time.

Padma winces as Professor McGonagall places the hat on her head.

“There’s no need to be afraid Miss Patil. I promise, I won’t sort you into a house you do not wish to be sorted into.”

Padma lets out a sigh of relief that she didn't know she was holding.

“Alright then, then sort me into Gryffindor. That’s the house I want to be sorted into.”

“Not so fast, Miss Patil. I said I wouldn’t sort you into a house that you didn't want to be sorted into, but I didn't say it was going to be that easy.”

“Well then, what do I have to do?”

“All you have to do is simply listen, Miss Patil.”

Padma nods.

“You wish to go into Gryffindor because of your family-”

Padma frowns. That is mostly true, but not entirely. Both of Padma’s parents were Gryffindors in school and Padma and Parvati were raised to be Gryffindors when they reached Hogwarts.

But Padma’s father was never as insistent about Gryffindor’s greatness as Padma’s mother was.

To Padma’s father, Gryffindor was still the best house and was great for him, but he at least acknowledged that the other houses existed for a reason, and a good one at that. Some people just didn't belong in Gryffindor and that didn't make them lesser or evil. It just made them different.

But Padma’s mother would hear none of it. Gryffindor was the house with the least You-Know-Who supporters during the Reign of Terror, and Padma’s mother is convinced that it’s because Gryffindor is a beacon of light. Maybe if Padma was considering being sorted into Hufflepuff, she would be ok. She would be ridiculed and teased by her sister for years to come, but that would be it.

But Ravenclaw? To Padma’s mother and Parvati, that was almost as bad as Slytherin. They would never accept it.

“-but you are also afraid of being sorted into a house that will hinder you. That won’t help you grow. You are afraid of becoming the worst version of yourself, but you are also afraid of your family seeing the best version of yourself as the worst version. You are afraid that your family doesn’t care for you, but for the daughter they’ve envisioned.”

Padma bristles. “That’s not true.”

“You are worried that if you allow yourself to be your true self then your sister will hate you. Then your mother will hate you. Then your father will envy you. You are afraid of the rift it will cause. You are afraid.”

“Leave me alone,” Padma demands. “You don’t know anything.”

“Oh, but I do. I know everything I need to know. I know that your mother is obsessed with being the perfect Light family and marrying you or your sister or both off to another Light family in order to raise their status. I know your sister has bought into fanaticism that your mother is consumed by, hating all houses besides Gryffindor and everything that isn’t Light. I know that you hate your sister’s friends and that there are very few people in the Light Alliance that you can tolerate, let alone like. I know that you believe your father is jealous of you, of the fact that you can still change your fate. I know that you fear your father will envy you for being stronger than he was. And I believe that you are right.”

Padma stiffens.

“So, I can either sort you where you belong, or I can sort you where your family wants you to go. Which is it? Are you going to become your own person or are you willing to live in your sister’s shadow for the rest of your life, wondering what could have been?”

“I don’t-”

“Are you brave enough to take a stand or are you too weak? Are you strong enough to do what you need to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do Miss Patil. You know. You know what the right choice is here. Make the right choice.”

“But-”

“Tell me where you want to be sorted Miss Patil. Tell everyone where you want to be sorted. Tell them where you belong.”

“I-”

“Tell your sister where you belong. Tell yourself where you belong!”

“Ravenclaw!” Padma yells aloud. “I belong in Ravenclaw.”

Padma can hear gasps sound out throughout the hall and a choking sob from the first years gathered in front of her.

Parvati is staring at her sister in shock, unable to comprehend her sister’s decision.

“I quite agree. Ravenclaw!”

________________________________________

Parvati Patil is quickly sorted into Gryffindor, the girl sending her twin a glare as she moves over to the table filled with cheering lions.

Charles smiles at the sigh, knowing he’ll join his friend soon.

He starts to make his way up to the sorting hat, and he can hear the murmurings of the people around him. Charles sighs. He’s certainly used to this.

Not only is he “boy-who-lived” but he’s also the Heir Apparent of a Most Ancient and Noble House. Charles is used to the attention, to the whispers and wonderings.

What he’s not used to is the glares.

They pop up around the room. Several come from the Slytherin table, which doesn’t surprise him.

He pales a bit at the murderous look on Heiress Davis’ face and the cold, detached stare from Heir Apparent Greengrass.

The Hufflepuffs surprise Charles though. But the Diggory Heir Apparent and Ward glare at him, quickly joined by Heiress Abbott. Even Heir Apparent Bones shoots him a cold stare not too dissimilar to Heir Apparent Greengrass’.

Even a few more light glares are directed at him from surprising sources, namely the three muggleborns Harry was with earlier. Charles winces. He knows he was supposed to take the muggleborns under his wing, but he just didn't have the time. They had more important things to do. Surely they’ll understand.

Charles sighs at how unconvincing his argument sounds to even himself.

By far the coldest glare in the room is being directed at Charles by his own twin.

Harry stares at Charles like his twin is subhuman rather than a living, breathing person. The utter contempt in Harry’s eyes is terrifying.

Ron is glaring at Harry in support of his best friend, and Rolf, the only one of Harry’s friends still to be sorted, has placed himself in between Ron and Harry, glaring at the redhead. Harry doesn’t even acknowledge Ron, too focused on his twin.

Charles opens his mouth to say something to Harry, before shutting it quickly.

Professor McGonagall places the hat on his head and Charles immediately knows he’s in for a long night.

“Mmm how intriguing, Mr. Potter. Tell me, do you feel ashamed?”

Charles sputters for several seconds before finally managing to pull an answer together. “Ashamed? Why should I be? I haven’t done anything wrong?”

“Mr. Potter, you can’t lie to me. Just because your father views your brother as expendable and useless-”

“My father does not! He loves Harry.”

“-doesn’t mean that you view him the same way. And honestly Mr. Potter, let’s be realistic. You’ve listened to your sister’s nightmares about how your mother and father will discard her just as they’ve discarded Harry. How she’s just as expendable because she’s not the boy-who-lived. You’ve held her as she cried out of fear that she will be the next one to be sent to your abusive muggle relatives, simply because they find no other use for her than strengthening blood wards meant to protect you. You’ve hugged her as she’s sobbed that she will never matter in her father’s eyes because you will always come first. You’ve seen the toll your parents’ utter lack of actual parenting has taken on your poor sister. Can you even imagine what that’s done to your brother?”

Charles reaches up and wipes a stray tear out of his eyes.

“You spent years yearning for your brother, for the twin you never got the chance to really know. For the family that was pulled away from you at such a young age. And you’ve resented him for the life you thought he lived. A life without the stressors of fame or responsibility and without your parents. And then you got the chance to meet your twin, only to realize that his life was even worse than yours. And how did you react?”

Charles bites his bottom lip to keep himself from sobbing.

“How did you react Mr. Potter? Do you need me to refresh your memory? Oh, let’s see, you ignored your brother, then belittled and insulted him, and then almost got him killed!”

“Stop it,” Charles begs. “Please.”

“How does it feel, Mr. Potter? How does it feel to know that you destroyed whatever relationship you could’ve had with your brother? With your twin? How does it feel to know that your sister now has nightmares of you pushing her off a broom to her death? How does it feel to have one sibling hold such rightful contempt for you while the other is afraid of you? How does it feel to know that you continue to allow your friend to belittle your twin for having the audacity to not die when you almost got him killed?! How does it feel, Mr. Potter, to know that you don’t deserve either of your siblings?”

“I can do better,” Charles cries out loud, shocking everyone. “I can be better!”

“Can you?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“I have little confidence in your promises, Mr. Potter. At least, as of now. It’s of little matter to me now because we are almost done here. I do hope you consider my words carefully, but I can’t force you. Now tell me Charles, will you accept any house other than Gryffindor?”

Charles solemnly shakes his head.

“Very well. I hope you at least use the lessons you learn from that house wisely. Gryffindor!”

An ashamed and still tearful Charles makes his way over to the Gryffindor table, letting Lavender and Parvati comfort him as he sits down next to him.

Charles looks up when Harry’s name is called, with hopeful eyes.

He hopes Harry is sorted into Gryffindor. Maybe if he is, then Charles will get the chance to apologize to his brother and reconnect.

So for over twelve tense minutes, Charles anxiously waits for Harry to be sorted.

“Slytherin!”

Charles flinches, and the rest of the room goes dead silent. Harry, with a smug smile on his face, hands the hate to Professor McGonagall before making his way to the Slytherin table.

Everyone is shocked. A Potter being sorted into anywhere other than Gryffindor is practically unheard of, but Slytherin?

Charles just stares at his brother with sad eyes. Harry turns to face his twin, sneering at him.

Charles takes the gesture and his twin’s sorting for what it truly is. A giant middle finger at anyone who had a hand in hurting him.

________________________________________

“Mr. Potter. How intriguing. May I call you Harry?”

“You may. What can I call you?”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself with that knowledge Harry. It is of no usefulness.”

“And it I wanted to know anyway.”

“I would say that you have a natural curiosity. A curiosity often linked to Ravenclaw.”

“Interesting. Or you could say that I want to know your name because I wish to be your friend, which is definitely a Hufflepuff trait as far as I’m concerned,” Harry muses. “Or you could say that it’s a Gryffindor trait, simply because I have the courage to ask your name and possibly even demand it, if I so wished. You could even construe that it is a very Slytherin trait to want to know your name. No one else knows it. I could probably trade the information to some historian or journalist for a decent payment if I had proper proof. You can construe any trait or opinion or fact to fit into any of the four houses, Mr. Hat.”

The hat laughs. “Yes, I guess you could, if you so desired.”

“I have to ask, why do witches and wizards allow for themselves to be so easily placed into these … boxes? The House system seems counterproductive in the long run. And surely at least students could reasonably fit into more than one house. So why sort them? Why sort any of us?”

“Because it’s my duty. It’s what I was created for.”

“Yes, but why? Why sort them at all? Everyone talks about the founders as these wise witches and wizards who founded one of the first wizarding schools and saved countless students’ lives So why would they create a system that would tear their students apart from one another?”

“Because that wasn’t the original intention. The house system is an incredible one, but it has become overly relied on and misconstrued over the years. Originally, the founders created the houses so that the students, particularly orphaned students, could find a family while they were at Hogwarts. So they could get to know students outside of their year. They were still heavily encouraged to make friends in other houses. Each of the four houses was tailored to help different kinds of students and help them work past their flaws and grow their strengths. They knew that not all students could be brave, loyal, cunning, and intelligent, especially not in equal measures. They wanted to encourage these qualities and allow for students to respect the qualities they lacked and seek those out from other students. Only students from all four houses working together could truly do something incredible, at least that’s what the founders said. But over time the house system shifted. It became less about encouraging growth and more about separation. People began to focus only on the strengths of their own house and on the weaknesses of the others. Overtime, families tended towards particular houses, regardless of whether they truly fit said houses ideals. Houses became politicized and now sortings can define a person for the rest of their life.”

“That’s idiotic.”

“Of course it is. But humans are rarely not idiotic.”

Harry chuckles. “I suppose you have a point. Though, some people are better than others.”

“And yet, you still don’t trust any of those people.”

Harry stiffens. “Why should I? They haven’t given me a reason to.”

“Really Harry? You are telling me that Jacob Potter has given you a reason not to trust him? All he has done since he received your letter is try to help you in every conceivable way that he can. Or Ginny Weasley, the girl who quite possibly saved your life within an hour of first meeting you? Or Emmeline Vance, the woman who considers you her nephew and her closest family, who never got over not being a part of your life? Or Serena Abbott, the woman who took you in when you had nowhere to go and gave you a home for the first time ever? Or Susan Bones, the girl who vigorously defended you after spending only one day with you? They haven’t earned your trust?”

“Do not lecture me. I have good reason to not trust anyone.”

“Do you Harry? Do you really?”

“Yes I do! I’ve barely spent any time with Susan or Ginny and I’ve never even met Jacob in person. And Emmeline and Serena are both hiding something from me, I just know it.”

“You are hiding things from them to Harry. Hiding your ability to do wandless magic.”

Harry tenses. “Mitchell Abbott warned me to not-”

“He told you to keep it a secret from anyone who you don’t trust. Which means that you don’t trust anybody.”

“Of course I don’t trust anyone. You know what I’ve been through, what my family has done to me. You know that the people who were supposed to protect me and care for me and love me all failed me. So how am I supposed to trust virtual strangers to do it in their place? How am I supposed to trust that they won’t fail me too?”

“Because you have to, Harry. Or else you’ll regret it.”

“Oh really. And how exactly will I regret it? I certainly won’t regret letting people in only to have them disappoint me. I’ve done that too many times already. I can’t do it again.”

“You’ll regret it Harry, because you won’t ever experience the joys of life. Friendship. Passion. Love. You’ll regret it Harry. You’ll regret living a life without people. You’ll be lonely with no one to comfort you. To hold your hand or to hug you or to let you cry on their shoulder. You’ll be alone!”

Harry flinches at the hat’s words.

“And that’s the best-case Harry. The worst will lead you to becoming jaded and angrier than you already are until your morality slowly dies and you are left with only an all-consuming rage that causes you to-”

“Stop,” Harry begs. “Please, just stop.”

“Very well. I do hope you’ve heard my words.

“I have, I promise. I won’t … I can’t promise I’ll start letting people into my life immediately. I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to trust people. But I can try. I think.”

“Very good Harry. Now, should we attend to your sorting?”

“I guess. I’ve probably taken up a good amount of your time, Mr. Hat. I’m sorry for that.”

“No apology necessary Harry. It is my job to not only sort students but to converse with them as I see fit. I do love to talk with intriguing children such as yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Now tell me Harry, what house do you see yourself being sorted into?”

“I don’t know if I’m being honest. I suppose I should leave that decision up to you. Can I make one request though?”

“Of course.”

“Not Gryffindor,” Harry pleads.

“That’s a shame, Mr. Potter. You would do well in Gryffindor if you so desired.”

“I just can’t. I can barely stand the thought of being in the same school as Charles, going to some of the same classes. Living in the same dorm as him would be a recipe for disaster. I wouldn’t … I can’t think clearly around him. He’s so infuriating and I want nothing more than to punch him and let him go crying off to our mother and father. Gryffindor is simply not a possibility for me.”

“I see. And as much as it pains me to say, Harry, I believe that Hufflepuff is out of consideration for you. You are a hard worker and you have the potential to be loyal, but as of right now the only loyalty you feel is to your owl.”

Harry nods. “Sadly, I have to agree.”

Harry would have loved to be sorted with Hannah, Michael, Rolf, and Susan, but he knew it wasn’t meant to be. He loves his friends, but he doesn’t trust them. He doesn't belong in Hufflepuff, at least not right now.

“And what about Ravenclaw Harry?”

“I think Ravenclaw would be acceptable,” Harry says. “I would do well there, gathering knowledge about the world. But I don’t know if it’s the best fit. I like to learn because it is useful to me, not because I find it fascinating. I feel like I would stagnate if I were sorted into Ravenclaw, only reading books instead of actually doing anything with what I’ve learned.”

“I quite agree. But you do realize what that leaves you with, don’t you Harry?”

“Yes Mr. Hat, I understand.”

“And you know that your welcome into the Slytherin house will not be a warm one, correct? You will face many obstacles and will have many enemies.”

“I am aware. But I do not care. I have faced obstacles and enemies for my entire life. I am quite adept at squeezing past obstacles and outrunning enemies.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Obstacles can be broken. People can be broken too.”

“I see. Very well Harry. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you Mr. Hat.”

“You are very welcome. Get ready Harry, your life is about to change. And only you get to decide if it’s for better or for worse.”

“I’m ready.”

________________________________________

“Slytherin!”

Rolf can feel the entire room collectively blink in shock at Harry’s sorting.

Harry pays them little mind, strutting over to the Slytherin table with a smile on his face and seemingly not a care in the world.

Rolf can’t help but be a bit envious of his friend. Harry has a strength that Rolf has never seen before. A resilience that rivals that of his grandparents, who both survived despite being key players in the war against Grindelwald.

It’s because like Newt and Tina Scamander, Harry has faced a war. And he’s lived to tell about it. The fact that Harry’s war was not an actual war but instead his childhood is no matter. Harry still went to war and survived where others wouldn’t.

“Rolf Scamander,” Professor McGonagall calls out after several minutes, finally remembering to do her job.

Rolf steps up and allows for the hat to be placed on his head.

“How intriguing, Mr. Scamander. You are clearly very loyal and hard-working. Perhaps the epitome of a Hufflepuff.”

“Thank you.”

“I just wonder how expansive that loyalty of yours is?”

Rolf frowns. “I’m not entirely sure what you are asking.”

“Let me explain. For years, the only people really involved in your life were your grandparents, your cousin, and later your best friend and pen pal. And then Mr. Thorne-Diggory came to Britain, and suddenly you were associated with Mr. Diggory, Miss Abbott, and Susan and you were almost overwhelmed. You don’t entirely know how to be around people you don’t completely trust, Mr. Scamander. It’s why you are so quiet around new friends. You only know how to give all of you or none of you, nothing in between. But eventually you adjusted to the new additions to your life, and even when Harry came along you could manage because it was just one person and he was so kind and hurt and strong and damaged and deserving of love and trust all at once. So you accepted him. But now Harry is starting to come with more people. And more people. More people than even he knows how to deal with, let alone then you know how to deal with. And I just wonder, Mr. Scamander, how will you deal with this? Will you let more people in or will you withdraw from Harry and everyone but those you trust the most?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“Just think on that Mr. Scamander. You don’t need to know the answer right now, but you will soon.”

“Hufflepuff!”

________________________________________

Lisa Turpin can say with absolute certainty that this night is not going the way anyone expected it to.

So far there have been six “Speakers”, including both Charles Potter and the interesting muggleborn, Morag MacDougal. There have also been five “Near Hatstalls” and one “Hatstall”. So definitely quite a unique year.

At least the last two sortings were uneventful. Heir Apparent Zacharias Smith of the Ancient House of Smith managed to get sorted into Hufflepuff after what looked like a small disagreement with the hat. And Dean Thomas, a muggleborn, was almost immediately sorted into Gryffindor.

Lisa walks up to the sorting hat when her name is called, hoping her own sorting is uneventful.

“Ahh, Lisa Turpin, the girl who was raised to hold both hatred and love in her heart.”

Lisa immediately tenses. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you do, Miss Turpin. You were raised to care for your family, and friends, and even innocents. You were raised to explore and learn and protect. But you were also raised to hate. You were raised to hate werewolves. You were raised to hate them with an irrational passion and an unwavering commitment. You were raised to hate werewolves first and breathe second. You were raised by fanatics, Miss Turpin.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about. Werewolves are a danger to all people. They can infect and spread their curse to innocent people and cause untold damage.”

“Yes, but many of the werewolves are innocent people themselves.”

“They stopped being innocent the second the curse took a hold on them. The people who were cursed died the day they were infected.”

“That is certainly a perspective one might take.”

Lisa bristles. “It is the correct perspective.”

“If you say so, Miss Turpin. Now tell me, if Mr. Goldstein became a werewolf, what would you do? Would you be able to kill him?”

Lisa flinches back, almost falling out of her chair. She searches the room desperately, sighing in relief when she catches Anthony’s eye.

Anthony stares back at her, offering her silent support.

“Would you be able to murder you friend, Miss Turpin? Would you let hatred or love win?”

Lisa doesn’t even try to answer, too scared to pull her gaze away from her friend for even a second.

“I see. I hope that is a question you’ll never have to answer, Miss Turpin. But I do hope that you consider it deeply.”

“Ravenclaw!”

________________________________________

“Ahh Mr. Weasley. I would say it’s a pleasure, but it really isn’t. I rather prefer to not be on the head of someone who publicly admitted disappointment at the fact that another child wasn’t killed.”

Ron tenses. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I assure you I do. Just know Ron that in that one moment, you lost almost any chance of a relationship with your sister. I do hope that you can mend that relationship, but only time will tell.”

“Ginny will come around, once she realizes that Harry is worthless. He’s nothing more than a slimy snake.”

“Well at least he’s not you. Now let’s sort you and get this over with. I know you won’t accept anything other than Gryffindor, so I might as well place you there.”

“Of course. I belong in Gryffindor. I’m the best friend of the boy-who-lived. His bonded. I deserve-”

“You deserve a few more curses from Susan and another slap from your sister. Nothing more. Consider your heinous actions and words, before it’s too late.”

“I-”

“Shut up. I don’t care what you have to say. You won’t listen to what anyone else has to say, so I’ve decided not to listen to you. Just let me sort you and then bugger off.”

“But-”

“Gryffindor!” the hat announces. “Now bugger off.”

________________________________________

Blaise Zabini is the last to be sorted, taking a seat at the Slytherin table next to Heiress Davis.

Around the hall, all of the first years are struggling to find the energy to listen to the Headmaster’s words, all too trapped in their thoughts.

The sorting hat just sits on its stool, pondering the children in front of him.

It wishes it could do more for the student’s then just offer them advice and attempt to push them towards the house where they belong. It wishes it could help them.

This year’s sortings were certainly interesting. Six “Speakers”: Hannah Abbott, Tracey Davis, Fay Dunbar, Morag MacDougal, Padma Patil, and Charles Potter. Five “Near Hatstalls”: Susan Bones, Michael Thorne-Diggory, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Theodore Nott. And One “Hatstall”: Harry Potter. Not to mention some of the other interesting sortings, such as Daphne Greengrass’ immediate sorting.

It was clear to all of the other students and the teachers at Hogwarts that this new group of first years were different.

Harry just sits by himself at the end of the Slytherin table, ignoring all the stares thrown his way.

He’ll definitely have to write a few letters tonight. He just hopes the responses he gets aren’t … disappointing.

He can’t really handle many more disappointments.

Chapter Text

September 1, 1991

Harry follows behind the other Slytherin first years as they make their way to the dorms.

Heir Apparent Malfoy is right at the front, with Heiress Parkinson by his side, and Heir Apparent Crabbe, Goyle, and Heiress Bulstrode trailing behind.

Heir Apparent Nott is walking close enough to Heir Apparent Malfoy to be associated with him, but far enough away to stand on his own.

Harry resists the urge to stare at both Heir Apparent Theo Nott and Heiress Pansy Parkinson. Theo’s dark hair and sharp jawline perfectly complement his pale skin and calm demeanor and Harry has to force himself to look away from the boy several times. And Pansy looks strikingly similar to a female version of Michael, with the same chocolate hair and practically chiseled bone structure, but her eyes are a mischievous blue rather than a warm hazel like Michael’s.

Daphne and Tracey are completely separated from Draco, and the last remaining slytherin, Heir Apparent Zabini, is walking with them, though neither of the girls are paying him much mind.

The two sixth year prefects, Heir Apparent Adrian Pucey of the Ancient House of Pucey and Heir Apparent Gemma Fawley of the Noble House of Fawley, lead them down to the dungeons before pausing at the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms.

“The password is ‘Salazar’ for this week,” Adrian says. “A new password will be issued every week. Check the bulletin every Monday morning or you will be locked out of the dorm until someone decides to take pity on you.”

Everyone nods, walking into the dorm.

What follows is an almost thirty-minute speech that Harry listens to intently, despite the fact that little information is actually given.

It’s not hard for Harry to get the gist though.

House unity must be presented outside the Slytherin dorms and common room. All inter-house issues must be dealt with in-house.

And don’t bother Professor Snape, the Head of House for Slytherin. Ever. Go to a prefect if you have a problem.

Though Harry reads in between the lines and figures that bothering a prefect is not wise either.

It’s very clear that Slytherin is a house where students either sink or swim, and they do so on their own or with the allies they’ve cultivated.

Harry can accept that. It’s still better than living with the Dursleys.

“Greengrass, Davis, Nott, and Potter, come with me,” Gemma Fawley says.

Harry frowns, wondering why he’s being separated from the others, but goes along with it.

“Wait,” Draco demands. “Are they going to the separate dorms?”

Adrian nods. “Of course. They are all direct heirs or wards of a Most Ancient and Noble House.”

Draco bristles. “As am I. I am not only Heir Apparent of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy but also an Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.”

Harry blinks in response to that information. Draco is related to his godfather?

“Yes, but you are only an heir through a daughter from a secondary line of the House of Black,” Gemma says. “Which means you do not qualify for the separate Most Ancient and Noble dorm.”

Draco opens his mouth to argue, but Pansy stops him, grabbing Draco’s arm and whispering something into his ear that calms him down.

“Very well,” Draco says.

Gemma nods, leading the four students away from the entrance to the main dorms and instead to a door closer to the exit from the common room.

Inside the room is a small seating area, with a couch and few chairs, a small bookshelf, and fireplace.

“Through the door to the right is the boy’s room, and to the left is the girl’s room. There is a bathroom attached to both. You are allowed to bring other Slytherin students into this dorm as you wish, but if another resident wants them to leave at any time, they must do so.”

“Excuse me?” Harry asks. “Why exactly are we staying in a separate dorm from the others?”

Gemma sighs, as if she is exasperated by Harry’s ignorance. “About two centuries ago it was decided that direct heirs and wards of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses should have a separate dorm in their respective houses, so they are better protected. Currently the four of you are the only direct heirs and wards of those houses in Slytherin, so you will be the only ones residing in this dorm. Any other questions?”

Harry shakes his head. Gemma nods and turns to Daphne. “The first meeting will take place on the fifteenth. We’ve been given a classroom on the second floor.”

Daphne nods. “Thank you, Heir Apparent Fawley.”

Gemma nods, before moving to leave.

Harry ponders what meeting they could be talking about but decides to worry about it later.

He looks at his four roommates, unsurprised when only Tracey seems to acknowledge his presence.

“Well, I am heading to bed. Goodnight Heir Apparent Greengrass, Heiress Davis.”

“Goodnight Heir Potter,” Daphne says in return and Tracey shoots him a weak smile.

Harry didn't even realize that Theo followed him into the boy’s room until he hears the door close behind him.

Harry finds only two beds in the room, with the one closest to the door having his chest sitting in front of it.

Harry gets to work quickly, pulling out the few things he needs for the night and Hedwig’s owl stand, propping it up in the corner.

Harry can feel Theo watching him, even as the other boy begins to unpack as well.

Only once Harry has pulled out his library trunk and starts to unshrink it does he get a genuine reaction from the boy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry can see Theo lean forward in interest, putting down the clothes he was unpacking.

“Is that a library trunk?” Theo asks.

“Yes, it is. I’m Heir Harry Potter, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Pleasure to meet you.”

Theo nods. “Pleasure to meet you too, Heir Potter. I am Heir Apparent Theo Nott of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Nott.”

Harry nods, opening the lid of his trunk and giggling as Hedwig flies out, landing on Harry’s head and chirping excitedly.

“Your owl was in your trunk?” Theo asks.

Harry nods. “Yes. She doesn't prefer to be far from me, even if that means sitting in a trunk. Don’t worry, it’s quite spacious in there. Is it ok if she’s in here?”

“Yes of course. As long as she stays on your side of the room.”

“Of course.”

Harry reaches back into his regular trunk, pulling out his quill and parchment and writing a quick letter to Jacob.

“Just deliver it to Gringotts,” Harry tells Hedwig. “I need you with me tomorrow so no long-distance travel. They’ll know to take the cost out of my vault.”

Hedwig chirps and pecks his ear in answer.

Harry moves to open the window to let Harry out before frowning. He never even considered the fact that the Slytherin dorms weren’t above ground. Or above water in this case.

Harry shivers as he stares out at the dark, murky water, and for a moment he swears he can see a shape move in the water. He quickly draws the curtain around the window closed.

“The hatch,” Theo says, pointing to a small hatch by the entrance of the room. “It leads to the surface, so owls can come and go.”

Harry smiles at Theo in thanks, opening the hatch so Hedwig can fly out.

“Mind if I leave this open?” Harry asks, after Hedwig leaves.

Theo shakes his head.

“It’s incredible that they actually implemented a way for owls to get out of the dungeons from here.”

“It’s necessary,” Theo says. “There’s only one in the Slytherin common room that the rest of the slytherins can use, but it’s required to have one in here as well. We are the Heirs of two Most Ancient and Noble Houses. We need to be able to get correspondence at all times.”

Harry nods. “Thank you for telling me.”

“It was no bother.”

Theo climbs into his bed, and that’s apparently the end of that conversation.

Harry resists the urge to stare at his roommate before the boy draws the curtains to his bed closed.

Harry quickly decides to follow suit, climbing into bed but not drawing the curtains. Hedwig will just chirp at him and wake him up if she can’t get to him later.

________________________________________

September 2, 1991

Harry walks out of the bathroom to find that Theo is already gone. Which is a little odd, considering breakfast doesn’t even start for another ten minutes, but it’s also expected. Theo can’t be seen associating with Harry, the Heir of one of the most influential Light families.

Hedwig chirps in greeting, flying over to land on his shoulder.

Harry smiles at the bird, scratching the back of her head. “Morning girl. Ready for breakfast?”

Harry walks out into the small living room, just in time to see Daphne and Tracey depart.

The two girls notice him but give him no time to catch up. Tracey shoots him an apologetic look.

Harry snorts. “Well, we expected that, didn't we girl?”

Hedwig nods and lets out an annoyed chirp.

“Fifteen-minute reading break?”

Harry doesn’t even wait for an answer, unshrinking his library trunk just enough to pull one of the books from the shelves. Another perk of a top-of-the-line library trunk.

Everyday Harry uses his library trunk, he finds himself even happier that he managed to force his biologicals to buy the trunk for him.

He spends the next few minutes reviewing the first-year potions book before heading up to the Great Hall for breakfast.

It’s still quite early by the time he’s arrived, but Harry is the last of the first-year Slytherins to arrive.

Harry notices that the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables are quite full, though Harry only recognizes Morag, Justin, and Susan at their respective tables. The former two both wave at him while Susan just smiles, and Harry responds in kind.

He does the same with Hermione and Percy at the mostly empty Gryffindor table, getting a few glares from his new housemates.

He takes a seat at the edge of the table, technically sitting next to Blaise and across from Tracey who is next Daphne, but still far enough away from the group that they don’t have to associate with him.

Harry feeds Hedwig a few pieces of bacon as she perches on his shoulder. A few students stare at Harry and his owl, but he pays them little mind as he continues to eat. Besides, Harry doesn’t know if they are staring at him because of Hedwig being with him or because he was a “Hatstall”, and he doesn’t really care to try to figure it out.

Truthfully, it doesn’t matter. Harry throws a piece of bacon into the air and laughs as Hedwig flies up to get it before landing back on his shoulder.

Draco and his three lugs, Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode, stare at him in disgust. Pansy mirrors that disgust, but Harry can see the amusement in her eyes.

She’s definitely related to Michael. They both have the same capability to smile with just their eyes. It’s so captivating and Harry has to force himself to look away from the girl several times.

Theo is sitting between the Gray and the Dark factions of the first years, which confuses and fascinates Harry. From everything Harry has read and heard, the Nott family is firmly in the Dark Alliance, being the strongest member of the alliance after the Malfoy family, which is only so powerful since they currently hold the proxy for both the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, the Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange, and the Ancient House of Prince. That gives the Malfoy family control over an astonishing 48 votes, which is also the same number of votes as the whole core of the Grey Alliance.

Hence, Draco, despite being less titled than Theo comes from a family with more political power, and Draco is someone that Harry should really not want to piss off.

But Harry has already pissed off his twin, who is apparently a famous war hero because he defeated a powerful Dark Wizard Nazi Lord as a baby … somehow and both of his biologicals, who are also powerful political figures.

So really, what does Harry have to lose?

Besides his life … not much.

Daphne and Blaise pay Harry little mind, though Daphne seems to pay everyone little mind besides Tracey. Harry can see the frown line start to form on Blaise’s face as a result.

Tracey seems to give Harry supportive looks throughout breakfast, but Harry certainly doesn’t acknowledge them or respond in kind. He doesn’t need support like that. It’s not worth his time.

Eventually the other students start to file into the Great Hall, and soon all but the Gryffindor table is full. Even the Gryffindor table is mostly full, though Harry only sees about half of the Gryffindor first years gathered.

At exactly 8:30, owls start to pour into the Great Hall, dropping off letters and packages to the students.

Harry resists the urge to groan when a letter addressed from his biological father lands on his plate.

Harry picks up the letter, not even bothering to open it, before dunking into his glass of pumpkin juice. Apparently, at least according to Mitchell Abbott, it’s “not appropriate” to burn letters in public.

So Harry is forced to resort to other means.

“Har- Heir Potter,” Tracey starts to ask. “Was that a letter from Lord Potter? I recognize the seal.”

“Yep,” Harry answers.

Another owl pops into the crowded Great Hall, dropping another letter in front of Harry.

Harry barely gets the chance to read his biological mother’s name before Hedwig swoops down from his shoulder, grabbing the letter and flying out of the Great Hall. She returns a minute later, landing back on Harry’s shoulder.

“It’s in the lake, isn’t it?” Harry asks his owl.

Hedwig gives Harry an affirmative chirp, before preening as Harry pets her feathers.

“Did your owl just dump Lady Potter’s letter in the Black Lake?” Blaise asks Harry, clearly in shock.

“She sure did,” Harry answers, cooing at Hedwig affectionately. Hedwig preens under the attention, pecking at Harry’s ear to encourage him to keep it up.

“Vain peacock,” Harry teases, before wincing when Hedwig bites his ear in retaliation. “Correction, mean and vain peacock, but also very pretty.”

Hedwig flaps her wings at Harry’s head in protest before landing on his head and stomping on his head.

The Slytherin first years and most of the lower half of the Slytherin table watches Harry and his owl interact. Whispers spread throughout the Slytherin table and to the other tables about Harry’s treatment of the letters from his parents.

Eventually the professors start to hand out schedules, Professor Snape reaching Harry’s section last. He stares down at Harry and the boy’s arrogant owl for a few seconds, glowering at the duo.

“Mr. Potter, what is your owl doing in the Great Hall?”

“Eating breakfast,” Harry answers coyly, throwing Hedwig another piece of bacon, which she easily catches. “And helping me dispose of unimportant correspondence. You know, the important things in life.”

Harry isn’t completely unprepared for this meeting. According to Serena and Mitchell, Professor Snape and Harry’s biologicals have a very complicated relationship. James Potter and Severus Snape despise each other, and Lily Potter and Snape have some complicated connection that basically boils down to “I hate you, but we were once friends”.

Harry doesn’t necessarily want to get on his Professor’s and Head of House’s bad side, but he knows that’s very unlikely. If he acts too much like Lily, Snape will resent Harry for being like the former friend he lost. If he’s too much like James, he will resent Harry for being the son of his enemy. If he’s like neither, he’ll be resented just because he looks like James and Lily.

It’s really a lose-lose and add another lose situation, so Harry has decided his only play is to act normally, but heavily show as much hatred for his biologicals as possible. Easier said than done.

But by Go-Merlin, Harry will find a way to do it, using that so-called cunning he apparently has to accomplish his goal.

So Harry raises his goblet of pumpkin juice with the soaked letter still inside. The Potter family insignia is still visible and clearly angled so Professor Snape can see it.

Harry takes a sip of his pumpkin juice, trying not to scrunch his nose in disgust at the papery aftertaste.

Snape stares at Harry. “Just the one letter?”

“Hedwig took the other one for a swim,” Harry answers. Hedwig chirps in agreement.

Snape stares at Harry for several moments before nodding. “Very well. There is no rule that disallows you from having your owl by your side at all times, but I would advise you to keep attention grabbing stunts to a minimum. Understand?”

Harry nods. “Of course Professor Snape.”

Snape hands Harry his schedule and walks back to the front of the Great Hall.

Harry can feel all of the eyes staring at him, but he just ignores them, looking down at his schedule.

Before he can even take a meaningful glance at it though, Harry can hear his name being called out.

“Harry,” Morag says, clearly not giving a damn about volume control. “We have Charms together first, and one of the prefects is showing us where it is. Want to join?”

Harry nods, quickly packing up and getting ready to leave.

“Potter, we usually walk to classes together,” Draco says to Harry through gritted teeth.

“Thank you Heir Apparent Malfoy, but I was unaware of such a tradition and have already made a promise. It would be unbecoming of me to break said promise based on information I have only just learned. So, I’ll see you all in Charms. Oh, and please remember to refer to me as Heir Potter in the future.”

Harry can practically feel the scowl as he walks over to join Morag and a contingent of first year Ravenclaws, Hedwig still resting on his head.

He’s well aware that he looks like a complete coot at this point, so he puts a little jig into his step, deciding to own his own insanity rather than ignore it. Several people chuckle as he half-walks, half-skips by them.

He recognizes Anthony Goldstein, Rolf’s cousin, and Padma Patil. He took interest in her sorting since she seems to be in a situation not too dissimilar to his.

Padma seems to agree, nodding to Harry in greeting. Anthony introduces himself to Harry as the group starts to depart.

Morag smiles at Harry, laughing when Harry pulls her into a side hug.

“I think you needed this hug more than me,” Morag teases.

Harry just chuckles, but certainly doesn’t deny the statement.

Morag and Harry hang off the back of the group, with Padma hesitating before joining them on Morag’s other side.

“So, give me the rundown,” Harry says, gesturing to the Ravenclaw first years and the prefect.

“The prefect is Heir Apparent Penelope Clearwater of the Ancient and Noble House of Clearwater,” Morag answers.

“Oh, from the Gray Alliance,” Harry notes. “Interesting. Is she nice?”

“Very,” Morag says. “Almost overwhelmingly so. Besides Cho, she’s been the person to check in on me the most. And I think Cho only did it because she feels guilty about the Light Alliance ignoring us on the train yesterday.”

Padma winces.

“Don’t worry about it, Heiress Patil. We’re not angry with you,” Harry says.

“Just Harry’s brother,” Morag adds. “Oh, and please call me Morag.”

“And me Harry.”

Padma nods. “Thanks. And please, both of you can call me Padma.”

Morag and Harry both smile at Padma before Morag continues her explanations.

“So after Penny is Heir Apparent Terry Boot of the Ancient House of Boot, Heiress Su Li of the Ancient House of Li, and Heir Apparent Michael Corner of the Aged House of Corner.”

“Dark Alliance?” Harry asks Padma.

Padma nods. “Yep, all three of them. Though, I suspect Michael and Su will mostly defer to Terry. Su’s family only got their seat about two generations ago, so they are still new to it.”

“And after them is Anthony Goldstein and Heir Apparent Lisa Turpin of the Noble House of Turpin,” Morag continues.

“Is Anthony’s family not titled?” Harry asks.

Padma shakes her head. “No, they aren’t.”

There’s clearly more to the story, but Harry knows better than to push. He is a bit curious about Anthony though. He’s Rolf’s cousin, so he’s at least related to the Light Alliance family, but he’s also clearly close with Lisa Turpin, who is the Heir Apparent of a Dark Alliance family.

“Anthony is Rolf’s cousin, by the way,” Harry says to Morag.

Morag stares at Anthony as a wave of realization crosses her face. “Oh, that makes sense. They kinda look similar.”

Harry guesses that is true. But Anthony is more regal and bookish compared to Rolf’s almost ruggish and built form from years of working at the Scamander Reserve.

“So Padma, how are you handling your sorting?” Harry asks.

Padma sighs. “I suppose about as well as you are. Any angry letters yet?”

“I suspect so, but I never did read them. They weren’t exactly worth my time, and they are gone now so they are of little concern.”

Morag snorts as Padma looks scandalized. “You destroyed the letters?”

“Well, Hedwig helped.”

Hedwig preens under the compliments Morag gives the bird, flying over onto her shoulder. Harry glares at his owl, who just chirps in response.

“Traitor,” Harry says, before turning back to Padma. “I get it Padma, it’s tough. You were actually probably close to your family, unlike myself or Morag. You have a different view than we do.”

Padma just nods.

Eventually they reach the Charms room and the students start to walk into the classroom, but Harry pauses before entering to thank Penny.

“Pleasure to meet you, Heir Apparent Clearwater. Thank you for letting me tag along while you led the others to class.”

“It was no problem, Heir Potter and please, feel free to call me Penny. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Harry stares at Penny for a few moments before a wave of realization washed over him. “Oh, you’re Percy’s girlfriend! And please, call me Harry.”

Penny laughs. “Why thank you Harry, and yes, I am Percy’s girlfriend. If you ever need anything, feel free to ask. I know Percy feels the same way.”

The underlying message is clear to Harry. He’s unlikely to get much help from the Slytherin prefects, especially since he’s not very willing to play the role of “Good Little Slytherin”.

And Percy, and by extension Penny, would certainly realize that. Harry wasn’t willing to play the role of “Good Little Heir Potter”, so he’s unlikely to be willing to play any role.

“Thank you Penny. I appreciate it.”

Penny smiles at Harry before walking off.

Harry walks into Charms, noticing the seating arrangement. The tables are set up with three seats each. Harry quickly decides to take the seat next to Morag, on the other side of Padma, in the middle row.

The so-called “Dark Trio'' of the Ravenclaw first years have taken one of the tables in the front. Anthony and Lisa take up the other table in the front.

“Hey Hedwig, wanna go into the trunk or fly a bit until class ends?” Harry asks his owl, who is still sitting on Morag’s shoulder

Hedwig chirps before flying out of the open window.

“How will she know when to come back?” Morag asks.

“She just will. She’s smart like that.”

Padma looks confused by Harry’s answer, but decides not to question it.

Eventually the Slytherin’s all walk in, with Draco glaring at Harry as he takes a seat in the back row. Pansy and Theo sit with Draco, while the three lugs sit at the other table in the back row.

Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise all sit at the other table in the middle row, which is all of the acknowledgement Harry gets from his two “friends”.

Well, two can play at that game. Or three in this case.

________________________________________

Harry walks into his afternoon class, History of Magic, only to find that everyone has already arrived before him.

“Stupid ghost,” Harry mutters under his breath. “How was I supposed to know it was a girl’s bathroom? It’s not like it was labeled.”

Hedwig chirps at Harry in a derogatory manner.

Harry stares at the room, trying to determine where he should sit.

This class is joint between the Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins, which should give Harry plenty of options.

Except for the fact that each table only holds four people, and Michael, Hannah, Susan, and Rolf are already seated together.

They give Harry small smiles that he returns as he continues to survey the room.

Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise are sitting together, and they are joined by the boy who Harry saw walking with Daphne and Tracey yesterday, who he now knows is Heir Apparent Zacharias Smith of the Ancient House of Smith.

Draco, Pansy, and Theo are once again sitting together, and Bulstrode has joined the trio, with Goyle and Crabbe sitting at the table behind the group.

And that just leaves Harry with two options since he is completely unwilling to sit with Draco’s bodyguards.

Justin is sitting with two people in the row right behind Michael, Hannah, Susan, and Rolf. Harry vaguely remembers that the girl’s name is Megan, but he recognizes the boy as one of Charles’ friends, Heir Apparent Ernie Macmillan of the Ancient and Noble House of Macmillan. Harry could join them.

Or, he could sit alone.

Hedwig pecks at Harry’s ear, before flying over to land on Justin’s shoulder. Justin just laughs, reaching up to pet Hedwig’s feathers and gesturing for Harry to join him.

Harry sits next to Justin, greeting his new friend and exchanging pleasantries with Megan and Ernie, before appeasing Justin by promising to bring the boy back into the library trunk soon.

“Not without Hermione though,” Harry jokes. “She’d kill me.”

Ok, maybe Harry wasn’t joking. Not entirely at least.

Hannah turns around and whispers a small apology to Harry for not being able to sit with him, that Michael and Rolf quickly echo, but Harry shrugs them off to the best of his ability.

Justin stares at Harry with a sense of understanding that makes Harry’s heart ache, but he pushes back against it.

“Hey Harry, do you have any free blocks tomorrow?” Susan asks.

Harry nods. “Yeah, tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect,” Susan smiles. “Meet me in the library after breakfast?”

Harry nods, before blinking when a ghost floats into the room.

And starts teaching?!

Justin and Harry share similar looks of disbelief as Hedwig laughs at the expressions on the two boy’s faces before flying out of the room.

________________________________________

Harry is exhausted as he throws himself into his bed after dinner.

An entire day of ignoring jabs from Draco and his meatbags about his “impropriety” and trying to not consider his past friendship with Heir Apparent Greengrass and Heiress Davis.

Not to mention classes and new people and ghosts and Harry is so freaking exhausted.

“Long day?” Theo asks.

Harry turns to stare at Theo, confused that the boy actually initiated a conversation. “Yeah. Really long. I think I’m about to pass out. You?”

“No, I want to get a head start on the homework.”

“That’s smart,” Harry says, failing to stifle a yawn.

Harry almost swears he hears Theo chuckle. “Goodnight Heir Potter.”

“Night,” Harry echoes, barely managing to change into his pajamas before sinking into his bed. He’ll have to wake up early to finish his homework, but Harry is sure that Hedwig will be a good alarm clock.

________________________________________

September 3, 1991

Hedwig is indeed a good alarm clock, waking up Harry even earlier than he intended.

At least Harry was able to finish all of his assignments from yesterday before heading to breakfast. They aren’t actually due until those respective classes meet again next week, but Harry knows it’s best to get his homework done as early as possible.

Harry’s breakfast is interrupted by only one letter this time, which became mysteriously dislocated from his person and relocated into a nearby tree.

Hedwig is innocent, of course. And how dare anyone imply otherwise!

Harry makes his way up to the library, smiling at Susan in greeting, who already has a table for the two of them.

Susan and Harry exchange pleasantries, before the girl starts to pull several books out of what has to be an enchanted bag, along with a schedule and notebook.

“Here,” Susan says, handing Harry several books.

Harry snorts. “How quickly do you expect me to read these?”

“By the end of next week,” Susan answers.

Harry chokes on his own spit, leading to coughing fit as Susan tries and fails to contain her laughter.

“That was cruel Susan,” Harry says. “Very very cruel.”

“Oh no, how ever will I make it up to you?” Susan teases. “Oh wait, I’m already letting you borrow incredibly valuable books from my family library.”

Harry shakes his head, chuckling. “Not to be dismissive of your generosity, Heir Apparent Bones, but are you sure that’s enough? For all we know, I could have died right here, choking on my own spit.”

Susan rolls her eyes, shoving Harry’s shoulder playfully. “Git.”

Harry glances in both directions in a clearly exaggerated manner, before leaning closer to Susan and whispering, “Family secret, but being a git runs in the family.”

Susan snorts.

“No, it’s true. It’s actually embedded into our bloodline.”

“Stop it Harry,” Susan says, a smile still plastered on her face. “We have work to do.”

Harry frowns before letting Susan start to lay out his lesson plan to him.

“So, I figure if we meet every Tuesday morning, Saturday afternoon and most Sunday afternoons for about three hours, then we should be able to get through all of the material pretty quickly. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m considering adding Justin to our Saturday meetings, since those are the days I’ll be covering basic etiquette. Tuesdays and Sundays will be lessons that relate more to us both being Heirs from Most Ancient and Noble Houses.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Harry says. “But if we are adding Justin then can-”

“Hermione and Morag can join too,” Susan interrupts. “As long as both you and Justin are comfortable with it. Justin already gave his permission. I asked him if he wanted the other muggleborn, Dean Thomas, to join, but Justin said no.”

Harry can't help but smile at that. Dean has clearly joined Charles’ friend group in the Gryffindor first years, and Harry definitely does not want that around him right now. Harry figures that’s the only reason that Justin wouldn’t want to invite Dean, since the two boys seemed to get along just fine a few days ago.

Hufflepuffs. So damn loyal. Harry loves Hufflepuffs.

“Hey Susan,” Harry says, once the girl has finished speaking. “Thanks for doing this. I know that your Aunt is forcing you to, but-”

“Harry,” Susan says, reaching over the table and grabbing her friend’s hand. “I would have offered to do this anyway.”

Harry smiles at his friend. “And thanks for what you did for me that day.”

Susan blushes, and Harry can’t help but follow suit as his friend’s complexion starts to almost match her red hair.

Though, it’s not really red, not like the Weasley family, or Lily and Rose Potter. More … strawberry blonde. Just a hint of red in her long, flowy hair.

“Harry, you don’t have to-”

“But I want to. Thank you Susan, for standing up for me. No one has ever done that before.”

Susan tenses at the truth in his words, squeezing his hand tightly. “I’m sure I won’t be the last person to stand up for you Harry, but it was my pleasure to be the first.”

Harry smiles back at Susan, blinking back a stray tear before turning back to her schedule.

________________________________________

Harry meanders through the complicated and complex Hogwarts castle to reach the Defense against the Dark Arts.

The Slytherins are already seated at tables fit to hold four people, so they have followed the same seating arrangement they took in History of Magic.

Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas are sitting together, with two empty seats clearly meant for Harry’s absent twin and his twin’s best friend.

Heir Apparent Neville Longbottom is sitting at a table with Heiress Lavender Brown, Heiress Parvati Patil, and Heiress Fay Dunbar, though Neville seems to only be enjoying the company of the latter.

Which leaves Hermione sitting all by her lonesome at one of the tables in the front row.

Not a difficult choice.

Hermione smiles at Harry when he sits next to her, and Harry can see the relief on her face.

Harry resolves right then to sit with Hermione as much as possible during their joint classes, rather than have his friend ever be left on her own.

“How has your week been?” Harry asks Hermione.

“Pretty good. You?”

Harry shrugs. “Ups and downs.”

Hedwig chirps at Harry in agreement before flying over to land on Hermione’s shoulder.

Hermione laughs, reaching up to stroke the bird’s feathers.

Harry listens as Hermione starts to give Harry a rundown review of the first chapter of their DADA textbook, when the professor walks into the classroom.

Harry shivers at the professor’s mere presence, prompting Hedwig to land back on his shoulder and Hermione to reach over almost instinctively and grab his hand.

Harry smiles at both girls, silently thanking them for the support.

Professor Quirrell makes no motion to start class early, so Harry is eventually able to relax.

“Hey Hermione, Susan Bones, one of my friends you met on the train, is offering to give you, me, Justin, and Morag etiquette lessons on Saturday afternoons. Would that be something you are interested in?”

Hermione’s glee is almost overwhelming. Harry didn't expect anything different. Hermione definitely enjoys learning from books, but some things are easier learned from a first-hand source. Supposedly, Hermione was supposed to get help from members of the Light Alliance in her own house, but Hermione has already developed a strong distaste for most of them.

Of the ones in her own year, Hermione can only stand to be in Fay’s or Neville’s presence for an extended period of time. The others were entirely too quick to join when Ron joked about Harry’s sorting, and even Charles did nothing to defend his brother against the teasing.

“That would be lovely Harry,” Hermione says. “I will have to thank Susan when I see her next.”

Eventually Charles and Ron come bursting into the room just as class is about to start. Charles freezes when he notices Professor Quirrell standing in the front of the room, and Ron spits out a quick apology, pulling Charles to the open seats next to Dean and Seamus. Harry bursts into laughter when Ron almost trips while helping Charles to his seat, prompting the rest of the Slytherins to laugh along with him.

The Slytherins may not like Harry, but they loathe Charles.

Ron sneers at Harry, and Harry just shoots Ron a snarky smile in return.

Charles stares at Harry throughout almost the entire lesson. Harry ignores his brother, but Hermione notices, shooting Charles less than subtle glares throughout the lesson and using her free hand to grip Harry’s supportively.

Daphne raises a brow at Hermione’s clear support of Harry as Tracey bristles and tries to push down the guilt she feels for not sitting next to Harry and offering the same support.

Draco glares at Harry and the muggleborn witch. Doesn’t Harry know he should be associating with purebloods if he wants to survive in Slytherin? Yet, all week he has been associating with almost entirely muggleborns.

Pansy is fascinated with the loyalty Harry clearly holds. Almost all of the muggleborns, besides Dean Thomas, hold Harry and their friendship with him in high regard despite the fact that they’ve only known the boy for a few days, or weeks in Morag’s case. And that’s not even considering the loyalty from her cousin and his friends in Hufflepuff.

Theo barely even glances at his roommate through the lesson. But a small smile crosses his face when Hermione first glares at Charles in Harry’s defense.

Soon, the class is over and the Slytherins all leave together, many sneering at choice Gryffindors as they leave. Harry is more sedate, packing his bag and deciding to walk down to the Great Hall with Hermione instead of joining his housemates.

Charles stares at Harry as he leaves, opening his mouth to say something, but Hermione grabs Harry’s arm and rushes him out the door.

Hedwig squawks at Charles as they pass the boy, causing Harry to burst into laughter as Hermione leads him out of the room.

________________________________________

Dear Harry,

I will keep this letter short so as not to take up too much time during your first week of schooling.

I just wanted to say that Mitchell, Jeremy, and I have been informed of your sorting and we couldn’t be prouder of you Harry, even if you did actually belong to our family.

You will always have the support of the Abbott family. If you have the time, please feel free to write to us for anything you may want or need, or if you just want to talk.

Have a great first week Harry. You deserve it.

Sincerely,

Serena Abbott

Harry blinks back tears as he finishes reading the letter. He didn't know what he was expecting when Hedwig popped up with a letter for him just as he arrived at the dorms after being mysteriously absent for all of dinner.

“Good letter?” Theo asks Harry from across the room.

“Yeah, very good letter,” Harry answers.

Theo just nods in response to Harry’s answer, but Harry swears he can see a ghost of a smile on the boy's face.

________________________________________

September 4, 1991

Harry quickly decides that Herbology is not the class for him. He spent years gardening for Aunt Petunia, and there’s no denying that he’s capable at it.

But Harry loathed gardening. At least when he cooked, there was a chance Harry would get to eat. All Harry received as a reward for gardening was dirty clothes and sweat from being out in the hot sun all day.

The only enjoyable part of gardening was the conversation. Garden snakes were quite chatty, even if their chatter was composed almost entirely of telling him about the last meal they had. Still, it was preferable to the conversations he had with his “family”.

But there are no snakes to converse with in Professor Sprout’s class. At least Morag and Padma are enjoyable company. Still, Harry knows he won’t like this class very much when all is said and done. Professor Sprout is definitely an excellent teacher who enjoys the subject she is teaching and strives to pass that knowledge down to her students, but Harry doesn’t think he’ll be able to bring himself to have more than a casual interest in the subject.

“Hey Morag,” Harry whispers during the practical part of the day’s lesson. “My friend Susan is offering to give us etiquette lessons on Saturday afternoons in the library. Hermione and Justin have already agreed. Would you want to come too?”

Morag nods and Harry smiles in return.

Padma glances at the two, clearly intrigued by the fact that Susan Bones is offering etiquette lessons to the four but decides to just ignore it for now and possibly offer Heir Apparent Bones her help later. Though she doubts the future Lady Bones will need much help.

________________________________________

Harry chases after his owl in the courtyard. “Hedwig!”

Hedwig chirps in answer, clearly laughing at Harry.

Harry just groans before Hedwig finally decides to land. She just happens to land on Cedric’s chest as the boy is lazily reading under a tree in the courtyard.

Cedric smiles up at the owl, starting to pet Hedwig’s feathers. “Hey girl, where’s Harry?”

Harry comes bursting over, slightly flushed in embarrassment as the entire courtyard watches him chase after his unruly owl.

“Hey Harry!” Cedric greets, sitting up and patting the spot next to him.

“Hi Cedric,” Harry smiles back, sitting down next to his friend’s brother and relaxing a bit now that his owl has seemingly calmed down. “How has your first week been so far?”

“Fairly good,” Cedric answers. “I got to start Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes this year, and those are both really interesting courses. Plus, it’s nice having Michael around.”

“How is he doing?” Harry asks. “I’ve spent some time with Susan, but this week has been so busy that I’ve barely seen Michael, Hannah, and Rolf outside of the Great Hall and the one class we’ve had together so far.”

“He’s doing good, they all are. Hannah’s a bit put out that Susan lives in a separate dorm from the rest of them, due to her being an heir to a Most Ancient and Noble House, but they are enjoying the fact that they are all in one house together. It’s easier for them that way.”

Harry gives Cedric a strained smile and tries not to think about the fact that he didn't get to sit with any of his friends in History of Magic, and he’s barely seen most of them.

Cedric frowns at Harry, moving closer to the boy. “I’m sorry Harry, I didn't mean it like that. They are still your friends, I promise.”

Harry just nods and changes the topic. “Hey, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything,” Cedric perks up.

“Do you know a Tonks?”

Cedric laughs. “Yeah, I sure do. Seventh year in my house, on the Auror track so she barely has time to breathe. Why?”

“Her parents told me I should introduce myself to her when we reached Hogwarts, but I haven’t had the time to track down a seventh year this week, especially since I have no clue what she looks like.”

“Well, for future reference, look for the colorful hair. And I’ll talk to her. Do you have a time you might want to meet?”

“Anytime before lunch on Saturday would be good, or Sunday if necessary.”

“Ok, I’ll reach out.”

“Thanks Cedric. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Happy to help.”

Harry stands up to leave, prompting Hedwig to fly over and land on his shoulder.

“Oh and thank Cho for me when you see her. She’s really helped Morag since her sorting.”

“I’ll pass along your thanks, but it’s unnecessary. She’s just doing what she thinks is right. And feel free to reach out Harry if you need anything or just want to talk. I know we aren’t as close as you and Michael are, but I still consider you a friend.”

“Thanks Cedric. I better get going. I’ve got a lot of homework.”

Cedric laughs. “Yeah, they do love to frontload us with homework for the first few years. I’ll see you around Harry.”

“See you around,” Harry says as he makes his way up to the library to meet with Hermione to go over their DADA homework.

________________________________________

Dear Harry,

I understand your concern, but I promise you that your sorting has not negatively affected my opinion of you. In fact, all it’s done is make me prouder of you.

My mother was a Slytherin, the first Potter Slytherin ever, though she wasn’t born into the family. I know she would be so proud that someone born into our family was finally brave enough to take that leap and be sorted into Slytherin despite the potential consequences.

I can’t even begin to imagine how our blood relatives are reacting, but they are of little importance. Just know that I still support you Harry, no matter what.

If you ever need any help, please feel free to reach out to my goddaughter, Daphne Greengrass. I know you two are friends, and I sincerely hope she isn’t giving you a hard time. If she is, just tell me and I’ll take steps to encourage her to correct her actions.

And please, if you ever need anything from me, write me. I am still so sorry that I cannot be there for you in person, but as soon as I can correct my error, I assure you that I will rush to your side.

How is your first week at Hogwarts going? My first week was a whirlwind, and I’m sure that yours was no different. Oh and Ares, Bill, Ivy, Anita, and David all say hi as well. Bill says to go to Percy if you have any trouble with any Gryffindors, which you shouldn’t but my former house isn’t always filled with the brightest students.

And I just want to say it again Harry, I am so proud of you. I think you really are the bravest of all of us, no matter what your sorting says.

With love,

Jacob Potter

Harry wipes away a tear and takes a shuddering breath as he sets Jacob’s letter down.

“Heir Potter?” Theo asks. “Is everything alright?”

“Perfectly alright, Heir Apparent Nott. Just another good letter.”

“Oh. I’m glad.”

“Thank you,” Harry says politely.

“We should probably get some sleep before Astronomy in a few hours,” Theo says.

Harry nods. “That’s a good idea.”

Harry decides to wait to write another letter to Jacob in the morning, crawling into bed and trusting Hedwig to wake him up for his evening class.

________________________________________

Dear Michael,

Your stepfather and I have considered everything for the last few days and we have decided it would be best for you to distance yourself from Heir Potter. You are still welcome to be his friend, of course. But please keep public interactions to a minimum. We cannot damage our friendship with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. It would also do you well to not drag your stepbrother into this. Cedric has little care for politics and won’t understand like you will.

Your stepfather and I are very pleased with your sorting. You are an honor to the proud House of Diggory.

I hope you have had a good first week so far, Michael, and that you will continue to despite my request.

Sincerely,

Your mother

Rolf stares at the letter with cold eyes, almost glaring at the parchment and Hannah’s face switches between showing shock and conflict.

Michael grips the parchment with shaky hands and resists the urge to shred the letter.

“Should we tell Susan?” Rolf asks.

“No,” Hannah says. “She’s already promised lessons to Harry. This could be a conflict of interest to her.”

“How?” Michael asks. “Only my family has decided to avoid Harry, how should this affect any of you?”

“So far, only your family has decided to avoid Harry,” Rolf says, and Hannah nods in agreement.

“So far,” Michael repeats before paling at the implication. “Shit.”

________________________________________

Harry is one of the first to arrive at Astronomy, with only a handful of Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuffs gathered. Padma is sitting with Ernie and Megan, and Harry definitely does not want to sit with the “dark trio” of Ravenclaw, so he sits at one of the empty tables in the front of the class, smiling at his professor in greeting.

“Good evening, Professor Sinistra.”

“Good evening Heir Potter,” Professor Sinistra returns, smiling politely at the boy. “Has your owl decided not to join us?”

Harry blushes. Apparently he and Hedwig have already gathered a reputation. “She was more comfortable sleeping the night away. I’m sure she’ll regret her decision though. The stars are so bright tonight.”

“Yes they are,” Professor Sinistra agrees. “I do hope you’ll enjoy my class Heir Potter. Few from my former house have taken an interest in the class, citing lack of practical application.”

“Oh I’m sure that Astronomy has plenty of practical uses, but I find myself caring little for such trivialities when staring at the beauty of the night sky.”

“How poetic, Heir Potter.”

“Why thank you Professor Sinistra.”

Before the conversation can continue, Morag plops down next to Harry and is quickly joined by Hermione, who sits on Harry’s other side. The three converse until Justin joins them a few minutes later, and they all catch with each other, taking turns telling the others how their first week has gone. It’s easy and the conversation flows smoothly until Harry notices a pair of eyes on him.

Harry turns around, finding Michael quickly averting his gaze. Hannah and Rolf both turn away a bit too, further confusing Harry. Susan seems to be just as confused, staring at her three friends before weakly smiling at Harry.

Harry fights against the feeling deep in his gut, before Morag, Hermione, and Justin interrupt his thoughts, pulling him back into the conversation.

Once class has started and Harry is completely invested in the teaching, Justin, Hermione, and Morag exchange meaningful glances with one another.

Morag and Hermione both shoot Justin questioning looks, since he’s the most likely to know what’s going on due to being in the same house as Harry’s other friends, but Justin just shrugs in answer.

The trio all frown, and scoot a little closer to Harry, who is doing a good job of distracting himself from his disappointment.

For now at least.

________________________________________

September 5, 1991

“Hey Harry,” Cedric calls out as Harry is leaving the Great Hall after breakfast. “I have to get to class, but just wanted to let you know that Tonks is free Saturday morning. She wants to meet you in the library after breakfast, does that work?”

Harry nods quickly. “Yes, of course. Thank you Cedric. I appreciate it.”

Cedric smiles, reaching over to ruffle Harry’s hair. “Of course Harry. Don’t mention it. Gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.”

“See ya,” Harry calls out as Cedric rushes off to his morning class. Harry quickly follows suit, making his way to Transfiguration.

________________________________________

Harry sits next to Justin in Transfiguration the next day, ignoring the empty seat next to Michael and Rolf.

Rolf looks confused and a bit disheartened, and Michael just stares at Harry with sad eyes before turning away.

“Where’s Hedwig?” Justin asks, clearly trying to distract Harry.

“Delivering a letter for me,” Harry answers. “My Jacob wrote back to me last night.”

“Your what?”

Harry blinks before realizing how awkward his title for his family member must sound to other people. “Oh, he’s my cousin once removed or something like that. My biological dad’s cousin. He’s on a curse-breaking mission for the next two years so I haven’t met him in person, but he’s been really nice in all of the letters we’ve exchanged. Like family. But I wasn’t sure what to call him, so I just settled on calling him my Jacob. Sorry if that sounds weird.”

Justin smiles at Harry. “No, not at all. I’m glad you have family like that.”

“Yeah me too.”

Justin and Harry start to review the notes Hermione and Morag lent them from their Transfiguration class earlier in the week.

“A match into a needle?” Harry asks Justin. “For our first class? How many people accomplished that?”

“Hermione and Morag, obviously, and a few others. Heiress Dunbar, Mr. Goldstein, Heir Apparent Turpin, Heiress Li, and I think that’s it. A few made it part way through before the end of the lesson,” Justin answers.

“That’s not a lot.”

“I think that’s the point Harry.”

Harry gives Justin a deadpan look. “Thank you Justin. I hadn’t realized.”

Justin snorts before laughing. “No problem Harry.”

The two go back to reviewing the notes as other students start to trickle in.

The tables in the Transfiguration classroom can only hold three people at a time, so the seating is a bit different compared to the joint Hufflepuff and Slytherin History of Magic class.

Blaise is quite perturbed when Daphne, Tracey, and Zacharias all sit together, waiting in the back of the room to decide where he is going to sit.

Draco, Pansy, and Theo still all sit together, with Bulstrode, Crabbe, and Goyle all sitting at the table behind them.

Susan and Hannah take the table in front of Michael and Rolf. Susan invites Harry and Justin to join the two tables, but the boys politely decline, though not before Harry winces at the lack of enthusiasm from Michael at Susan’s invitation and Justin subtly glares at the boy in return, pulling Harry’s chair closer.

Megan and Ernie walk into the class together, but Megan takes the open seat next to Susan, while Ernie takes the empty seat at Michael and Rolf’s table

Eventually Blaise decides to take the open seat next to Harry. Harry may have been flagrantly avoiding his housemates for most of the week, and Justin may be an untitled muggleborn, but Harry is still a Slytherin and an Heir to a Most Ancient and Noble House, and Justin is at least more respectful than that muggleborn that constantly follows Heir Apparent Potter and Heir Weasley around like a lost puppy.

Harry and Justin both politely greet Blaise, before including him in the discussion about today’s class. Blaise is silently surprised and impressed at the detailed notes Justin and Harry have from the two muggleborn girls. He’s even more impressed with the obvious care and dedication the two boys are putting into their studies.

They’ll need it, since muggleborn and muggle-raised students always struggle through the first few years at Hogwarts, but Blaise thinks that those four might just have what it takes to excel despite the handicap.

Professor McGonagall starts off the class by switching out of her animagus form, shocking both Justin and Harry.

Class is definitely intriguing, though privately both Justin and Harry are unsure how much they’ll enjoy the class long-term. Harry is more interested in Charms and DADA, despite Professor Quirrell’s stutter. On the other hand, Justin has enjoyed both History of Magic and Potions, even though both Professor Snape and Professor Binns are clearly lacking in the teaching department.

Harry is not the first to accomplish the task of transfiguring the match they’ve been given into a needle. That honor instead goes to either Daphne or Susan, since both girls finished at practically the same time. Pansy, Tracey, and Michael all accomplish the task a few minutes after the two girls, before Harry finally joins them with Theo quick on his tail. Justin and Blaise accomplish it about five minutes before class ends, but none of the others manage to complete the task in the given time allotment.

Harry knows he could have finished the task a few minutes earlier if he wasn’t so distracted by Michael’s sad eyes and the boy quickly averting his eyes every time Harry looked over in his direction. Not to mention the less than subtle and slightly guilty glances thrown his way by Professor McGonagall, which Harry will have to write to Serena and Jacob about. And maybe Aunt Emme too.

Class is over, and Blaise is quick to break apart from Justin and Harry, rejoining Daphne and Tracey.

Everyone starts to pack up and leave, and when Harry is walking out of the class, he sees Michael open his mouth and take a step towards him, before Michael stops himself as his face becomes the perfect picture of internal conflict.

Harry sneers at Michael before picking up his pace and practically fleeing the room. Justin glares at his roommate before rushing after Harry.

Susan shoots Michael a look of utter disbelief, as Hannah and Rolf stare at Michael with sad, understanding eyes.

Susan lightly glares at her friends before rushing out of the room, hoping to catch up with Harry.

Daphne stares at the scene with curious eyes as Tracey bites on her bottom lip as she watches Harry’s closest friendships start to crumble.

________________________________________

Susan does manage to catch up to Harry but has no explanation to offer for their friend’s behavior.

Justin stays close to Harry the entire time, silently flanking his friend. Susan hasn’t shown any hesitation around Harry like his other “friends”, but Justin isn’t about to take any chances.

He knows the pain Harry is feeling right now all too well. The hurt when friendships that seemed so strong start to crumble. Justin has been in that situation more times than he can count.

But at least Justin has his parents’ bonds. Justin can’t even begin to imagine Harry’s pain at having none, and then finally seeing a chance to possibly be bonded, only to have it start to fall apart.

Harry pushes past Susan’s apologies, but does let the girl hug him.

He doesn’t even question it when Justin offers Harry another hug once Susan has gone to join Hannah and the others in the Great Hall for lunch.

Harry spends the next several hours after lunch in the library with Hermione, Morag, and Justin, though occasionally others pop in and join them for a few moments, such as Padma, Fay, and even Cho. The four make quick work of their remaining assignments before starting to prepare for tomorrow’s classes. Justin and Morag have DADA in the morning while Harry and Hermione have Potions in the afternoon.

The four head to the Great Hall together for dinner, before returning to the library for another hour or so. They decide to call it a night after Justin starts to yawn, since all of them are a bit tired after Astronomy yesterday.

Harry makes his way down to the Slytherin dorms, suddenly hit by just how alone he is. The last few days, Harry has barely had a moment to himself, between Morag, Hermione, Justin, Susan, and everyone else. Not to mention Hedwig, who is still off delivering his letter to Jacob.

Harry can’t help but feel a bit down when he considers the people he hasn’t spent much time with this past week. Before Harry came to Hogwarts, he had six really strong connections with people in his year, or at least he thought so.

Of those connections, Harry has only spent a meaningful amount of time with Susan. He’s spent more time writing letters to Jacob, Ginny, Aunt Emme, even Rose and Astoria, than he has talking with the rest of his friends.

He should have known this would happen. In fact, he did know this would happen. He predicted that people would pull away from him after they reached Hogwarts. He knew that Daphne wasn’t going to act as friendly at Hogwarts no matter where Harry was sorted, and that Tracey was going to follow her bonded’s lead. He knew this was going to happen and he was right.

But Harry really wishes that he was wrong instead.

Harry wants Hannah to hold his hand again, and Michael to hug him, and he wants to hear Rolf’s laughter. He wants Tracey to reach across a table and grip his hand when he’s feeling down, and he wants Daphne to explain all of the trivial yet somehow crucial facts about the Wizarding World that Harry would have only figured out after months of research.

He wants his friends back.

Harry stalks into Slytherin dorm, turning straight into the private dorms.

Tracey and Daphne are both sitting in the small common room. Tracey is reading and Daphne appears to be writing something in that notebook of hers.

“Harry?” Tracey asks, out of concern for her friend. Harry’s somber expression quickly shifts as a scowl forms on his face.

“Call me Heir Potter,” Harry insists, before storming into his and Theo’s room and slamming the door closed behind him.

Tracey winces and even Daphne’s eyes widen slightly. Tracey glares at Daphne with tears in her eyes before storming off to her room.

Daphne just continues to sit in the living room, a curious look on her face. She goes back to writing in her notebook.

Daphne is starting to consider that she made a mistake, but she suspects that it’s too late to backtrack now.

________________________________________

Theo winces as the bedroom door slams closed.

Harry storms into the room with a look of righteous fury on his face before his expression turns into one of shock and guilt. “Heir Apparent Nott, I wasn’t aware that you were in here. I apologize.”

“No need,” Theo says. “It’s perfectly alright, Heir Potter.”

Harry nods, flopping onto his bed and sighing. Sometimes Theo wonders how someone so expressive could possibly be sorted into Slytherin.

But Harry is clearly cunning. He has danced verbal circles around Draco all week, and most of the time Harry appears to be doing it effortlessly.

“Did you enjoy your afternoon?” Theo asks.

“Yes,” Harry says. “I enjoy our classes, but I do enjoy the breaks as well.”

Theo nods in agreement. “It’s sad that next week we will lose this afternoon break, at least for the first half of the semester.”

Harry pokes his head up, frowning at Theo. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you not know? Next week we will start having flying lessons with the Gryffindors on Thursday afternoons. At least for the first half of the semester, it becomes optional after that.”

The look of pure terror that crosses Harry’s face sends shivers down Theo’s spine.

Theo frantically rushes to change the topic, but the damage is done. Harry buries himself under his covers, and Theo can hear quiet sniffles for the next several minutes until Harry calms down.

“Heir Potter, I’m sorry,” Theo apologizes once the sniffles eventually stop.

Harry doesn’t answer for several moments, so Theo almost assumes that Harry has fallen asleep before he pipes up.

“Thank you.”

Theo nods, pulling himself into his bed and trying to fight against the guilt he feels for bringing up such a sensitive topic in front of Harry.

________________________________________

September 6, 1991

Harry and Hermione walk into Potions together, quickly grabbing one of the tables towards the back of the room.

Hermione had wanted to sit in the front, but Harry had managed to discourage her with the horror stories he’s heard about Professor Snape and the stories about the history Professor Snape had with Harry’s biologicals.

Hermione and Harry quickly review the notes that Justin and Morag gave them as others start to pair off.

Draco and Theo partner together at one of the tables, joined by Pansy and Bulstrode. Tracey and Daphne are naturally partnered together, and Blaise subtly glares at Harry, since the boy has now left him to be partnered with a Gryffindor instead of a fellow Slytherin.

Harry pays his housemate little mind as the Gryffindors start to trail in. Lavender and Parvati partner, as do Neville and Fay, who join Harry and Hermione at their four-top table. Ron, Charles, Seamus, and Dean all arrive to class late and partner accordingly.

Blaise perks up when he realizes there is an odd number. Professor Snape will most likely let him join Tracey and Daphne in that case.

Professor Snape sweeps into the room. Harry notices the look of disdain that crosses the professor’s face when he sees Charles, but Harry is just glad that similar look of disdain doesn’t appear on his Head of House’s face when he looks at Harry.

“Heir Apparent Potter, our new celebrity,” Professor Snape sneers at Harry’s twin.

Charles glares at the professor and Harry struggles to keep a gleeful smirk from crossing his face.

“Tell me, Heir Apparent Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Charles stares blankly at Professor Snape before glaring at the man.

This time Harry does smirk. His brother doesn’t know the answer.

Hermione moves to raise her hand, but Harry stops her by grabbing her hand.

Hermione shoots her friend a perplexed look before she sees the delighted smile on her friend’s face. Hermione shivers at her friend’s more vindictive side and prays that she never ends up on the receiving end of Harry’s ire. She can practically feel Harry’s excitement as magic swirls around the boy.

“I don’t know sir,” Charles says through gritted teeth.

“Interesting. Ten points from Gryffindor for being grossly unprepared for this today’s lesson.”

Charles grimaces and Ron joins his best friend in glaring at the man.

“Answer me this, Heir Apparent Potter. Where would you find a bezoar?”

Hermione’s hand threatens to shoot up again, but she stops herself from answering the question. She shivers once again as Harry stares at the scene before him with glee.

“I don’t know sir,” Charles says, his fists clenched tightly as he answers.

“Of course not. Another ten points from Gryffindor. Tell me, do you at least know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

“I don’t know!” Charles yells at Professor Snape. “How many times do you want me to tell you that I don’t know? What do you want from me?”

Hermione squeezes Harry’s hand, grabbing his attention. “End this,” she whispers.

Harry scoffs at the idea, before a thought forms in his mind. He nods, standing up.

“Charles Potter!” Harry scolds. “How dare you disrespect the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter by not only being unprepared for class but also yelling at our professor. Please stop before you embarrass our family and House further.”

Charles levels a death glare at his brother. “Me disrespect our family? At least I’m not a filthy snake like you!”

Charles expects for his brother to flinch back or at least seem bothered by the insult, but Harry just smirks at his twin.

Charles’ eyes widen. He just played right into Harry’s hand.

Hermione inaudibly groans. This is not what she meant at all.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor for your insults to my house, Heir Apparent Potter. Heir Potter, would you restore honor to your family and House by answering the questions I gave to your brother?”

Harry falters for a second before nodding. “I don’t know the answer to the first one, but a bezoar can be located in the stomach of a goat and it can be used to cure most poisons. And there is no difference between monkshood and wolfsbane. They are both names used to refer to a poisonous plant in the aconite family. I apologize for my lack of preparation and not being able to answer the first question, and also for my brother’s similar lack of preparation and his attitude this afternoon.”

Charles glares at his brother, and is quickly joined by half of Gryffindor, which includes a particularly vicious glare from Ron. The Slytherins all sit back, intrigued enough to simply watch rather than intervene.

“Very well, Heir Potter. Ten points for your answering of the latter two questions, but five points for not being prepared for the first. For future reference, adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood will create a sleeping potion.”

Harry nods, taking his seat.

“That’s not what I meant,” Hermione whispers to Harry as Professor Snape begins his lesson.

“You should have been more specific then.”

Hermione rolls her eyes as Harry silently laughs while taking notes from Professor Snape’s lecture.

Harry can feel the glares throughout the entire lesson, but he shrugs them off quite easily. No need to concern himself with the opinions of people who judge him so harshly and quickly.

The rest of the lesson goes as smoothly as possible. Snape gives points to practically every Slytherin except for Harry throughout the lesson and doesn’t take points from Goyle and Crabbe even when their potion threatens to explode. Meanwhile, Professor Snape critiques the Gryffindors quite harshly, taking points with impunity.

He avoids Harry’s table at all cost, which leads to Fay and Neville silently agreeing to sit with Harry for all future potions lessons if at all possible. If he can keep Professor Snape away from them, then he is definitely someone they want to work with in the future.

Harry lets Hermione assign him tasks and tell him what to do throughout the lesson, only adding input where needed. He’s fairly sure this is the only way to work with Hermione, unless he us able to show that he has more advanced knowledge than the girl. But he doesn’t so Harry is perfectly happy to take a backseat during the potions lesson.

Class is over after several long hours, and Harry says his goodbyes to Hermione, Fay, and Neville. Hermione promises to meet him tomorrow in the library after lunch.

Harry nods at Hermione’s promise before making his way out of the Potions classroom.

He barely gets a few feet out of the door before Charles moves to stand in Harry’s way.

“Yes?” Harry asks impatiently.

Charles grits his teeth but manages to stay civil. For now. “Why have you not been returning our parents’ letters?”

“Well, it’s hard to respond to letters when I haven’t bothered to read them.”

“What? What do you mean you haven-”

“Heir Potter,” Pansy calls out from just down the hall. Harry is surprised to see her without Draco by her side. “I need your help with our Transfiguration homework.”

“Of course Heiress Parkinson,” Harry says, walking over to Pansy. Charles moves to grab his brother’s arm, but Harry steps out of the way, glaring at his brother.

“Don’t touch me. Last time you did that, you almost killed me. Next time, it may go differently,” Harry whispers.

Charles shivers at the warning as magic fills the hall. It practically suffocates Charles and forces him to back away from his twin.

Pansy is delighted when the feeling of swirling, angry magic washes over her. All of the rumors she heard were true. She was starting to doubt them, but Pansy can’t believe her own stupidity now that she is faced with the truth. Her heart is beating faster, and Pansy feels like she can almost taste the magic that shoots out in all directions.

It grows weaker the farther Harry steps away from his twin, until there’s only a small amount still swirling around Harry once he reaches her.

“Thanks,” Harry says once the pair is sufficiently far away from Charles and the rest of the Gryffindors.

Pansy doesn’t even bother to respond, just smirking at Harry in return.

Harry curses and shakes his head, clearly exasperated, though there’s a small smile on his face.

“Slytherins.”

Chapter Text

September 7, 1991

Harry walks out of breakfast, chuckling when Hedwig flies out of nowhere and lands on his shoulder, a letter clutched in her claws.

“Hedwig, try not to be so slow next time. Most letters get delivered during breakfast.”

Hedwig chirps in indignation, biting Harry’s ear and dropping the letter as she flies off.

Harry picks up the letter, already knowing it’s from Jacob. He quickly shoves the letter into his bag. He would read it now, but he’s supposed to meet Tonks soon.

Harry rushes up to the library, laughing when a stubborn Hedwig flies back halfway through his journey, landing on his shoulder.

“I’ll give you extra bacon tomorrow,” Harry promises.

That seems to mollify his owl. For now.

Harry walks into his library, immediately searching for Tonks.

“Cedric says she has colorful hair,” Harry muses aloud.

Hedwig chirps in agreement, looking for Tonks as well.

“Hey Harry,” Percy greets, coming up behind the boy. “What brings you to the library on a Saturday?”

“I’m supposed to meet someone. A Tonks? Do you know her?”

Percy nods, laughing. “Yeah, everyone knows Tonks. Come on, I’ll help you find her.”

Harry smiles at Percy gratefully, easily following behind the boy.

“So, how do you know Tonks?”

“I don’t really,” Harry says. “I kind of know her parents. It’s complicated.”

Percy nods. “That seems to be a common theme with you Harry.”

Percy tenses, before Harry bursts into laughter. Even Hedwig’s chirps resemble giggling as she sits on Harry’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess it is. And getting more complicated by the day.”

Percy frowns at Harry’s statement, but decides not to push for an explanation.

Eventually Percy spots Tonks, pointing her out for Harry.

“Thanks Percy,” Harry says brightly. “Oh, say hi to Penny for me. And write to Ginny more. She’s lonely and possibly a bit angry at you.”

Percy pales, nodding. He’ll definitely write a letter to his little sister tonight. She’s a nightmare when she’s angry.

Harry giggles at the look on Percy’s face before walking over to Tonks.

“Um, excuse me?” Harry says hesitantly, not wanting to bother Tonks too much since the girl has her nose buried in a book. She’s quite tall, at least to Harry and she’s got brunette hair.

“Thanks for the advice Cedric,” Harry mutters sarcastically.

Tonks looks up, almost smiling at the boy. “Good Potter! I mean, Heir Potter, the Good Potter! I’ve heard so much about you!”

She jumps up, tripping a bit and pulling Harry down into a hug as she almost falls to the ground.

Harry blinks as Hedwig flies above to two to avoid getting crushed.

“Um hi?”

Tonks laughs, pulling away from Harry, but she also lays her hands on his shoulders, clearly looking Harry up and down.

Harry blushes, turning away from the older, attractive girl. Or woman, he supposes. She is in her seventh year, so that would make her at least 19.

“Oh, aren’t you the cutest!” Tonks squeals, pulling Harry into another hug. “I was afraid you would look like your brother, but you don’t. I mean you do, but you don’t at the same time. You are tinier and cuter and look like less of an asshole.”

Harry opens his mouth to respond, before bursting into laughter when Tonks calls his brother an asshole.

Tonks laughs with Harry. “It’s true! I mean, the kid has potential, the Potter genes are kind, but he’s such a … twerp.”

Hedwig circles back around the room, landing on Harry’s head and pecking at him out of concern. If he doesn’t stop laughing soon, he’ll turn blue.

Before Tonks can say anything else, Madam Pince walks over, glaring at Tonks in particular.

“Miss Tonks, I would prefer that you keep your volume to a minimum or leave,” Madam Pince whispers harshly at the two. “And please, don’t corrupt the first years. I was starting to like young Heir Potter and his friends, before you met him.”

Tonks bites her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing as Madam Pince walks away. Harry buries his face into the crook of his arm to muffle his laughter as he calms himself.

Tonks grabs her bag and starts to lead Harry out of the library. “Quick, before she gives us detention.”

Harry nods, following along as his laughter starts to taper off.

They make it all the way to the courtyard before Harry finally calms down.

“Oh go-Merlin, I needed that.”

Tonks laughs, “You don’t have to worry about that around me, Heir Potter. I grew up in both the muggle world and the Wizarding World.”

Harry nods. “Oh really? And please, just call me Harry.”

“Then please, just call me Tonks. If you know what’s good for you.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Hedwig squawks at Tonks warningly. “Don’t worry, I’ve been properly warned.”

“I’m sure you have been, and who is this adorable owl?”

“Her name is Hedwig, and she prefers stronger adjectives than ‘adorable’.”

Hedwig nods and chirps in agreement as she sits on Harry’s shoulder.

“Oh sassy. Wait, Hedwig as in Ares’ daughter?”

Harry nods. “You know Ares? And Jacob?”

Tonks nod. “Of course I know Uncle Jacob! Dorea Potter, Jacob’s mother and the other Slytherin Potter, and can I just say how cool it is that there’s another Slytherin Potter, I mean I’m not a Slytherin and I know some people think it’s an evil house or whatever, but my mother was a Slytherin and she’s a badass so how bad can it be? And the fact that you are now the first Slytherin that was born a Potter is like very cool. Look at you, destroying those familial traditions. Get it little man.”

“Uh,” Harry says. “Thanks? But what about Jacob’s mother?”

“Oh right! Well, Jacob’s mother was Dorea Potter nee Black, but she got kinda disowned when she flipped her family off and married Jacob’s dad, Charlus Potter. I mean, she didn't get fully disowned because the Potter's are powerful and like loaded, but she wasn’t getting invited to Sunday tea either. My mom, on the other hand, did get fully disowned. Like she was blasted from the family tapestry and everything, because instead of running away to marry a wealthy, titled wizard, she ran off to marry a muggleborn, my dad! Well Dorea Potter really admired mom for that, and she took care of us when my parents were like broke and during the war, and after … well, you know, Jacob continued to view us as family. Which is why he told you to contact my parents when you sent him that letter. Mom was very impressed by your letter, by the way. She predicted this whole green vibe you’ve got going on now, but she didn't expect you to be a Hatstall because those are like super rare but look at you shaking things up. I mean, I was a Speaker because the hat was being kind of annoying but whatever. I mean, it’s rare, but not in your year for some reason, and a Hatstall is like a much bigger deal, and you totally just came in and told everyone to pay attention to you which is badass. I’ve even heard some rumors of you telling off our cousin. Good, he could use it. He’s a twerp too.”

“Who’s our cousin?” Harry asks, struggling to keep up. Even Hedwig looks a bit dazed.

“Oh right, you don’t know this stuff. Heir Apparent Malfoy is our cousin. Well, more mine than yours, but you are kinda related to him. His mother is my aunt, and she’s the cousin of your godfather. Which means that both of you are Heirs to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, though Draco’s claim is stronger since technically he’s blood related or at least a lot more closely blood related than you because all the pureblood families are intermixed, but you can make a strong legal claim to the title eventually, once your godfather dies. Sorry if that’s a touchy subject.”

Harry waves off Tonks’ concern. “I don’t know him, so I don’t care. But is that why Heir Apparent Malfoy hates me so much.”

“I mean yeah probably, or because you’re a Potter, or because you’re a half-blood, or because you just seem to not give a fuck, which tends to upset some people, but you get used to it. There’s a lot of reasons he could hate you, but who cares?”

Harry nods in agreement. “I mean, I guess you're right, but he could make my life hell in Slytherin.”

Tonks winces. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Well, if you need me to kick his ass, I can. I’ll probably get in a whole heap of trouble, but it would be so satisfying.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I can handle it all on my own.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about little man! That’s some confidence right there. Yes, strut your stuff! Show off!”

Harry laughs, not sure how else to respond.

“Ok, but I do have to ask, Cedric mentioned that when I was looking for you, I should look for colorful hair? What’s that about?”

“Oh, you know Cedric! Oh yeah, that’s right. Cedric’s the one that set up this little meeting. How do you know Cedric? Isn’t he cute? He’s gonna look real nice when he fills out and grows up a bit more and the girls and the gays are gonna throw themselves at him, just you watch. And that little stepbrother of his could be fine when he grows up too, isn’t he your age? Oh, you know him, don’t you? Oh never mind, that’s clearly a touchy subject, I’m backing off. Sorry about that little man. It gets better, boys suck. Maybe date girls if you are into that, but we suck too. Maybe just don’t date? It’s worked for me … eh kinda, but that’s a different story. Anyways, yeah so I’m what we witches and wizards call a metamorphmagus, which means that I have the ability to manipulate my body, so I can make myself taller, shorter, change my eye color, all that jazz. Most of the time I just switch my hair color a lot, but I got dared by my bonded to spend the first month with just the normal hair color. Stupid Charlie. I hate him so much. Oh wait, don’t you know the Weasleys? Well, the good ones at least. Bill is the oldest one, he’s the one that our uncle has a hard-on for-”

Harry blanches. “Can we not say that? Ever. Please?”

Tonks laughs. “Oh I’m sorry little man, I forgot how young and innocent you were. My bad. Well anyways, after Bill is Charlie, he graduated last year, damn him, and left me all alone. He works at a dragon reserve in Romania now. And you already know Percy and Ginny, so there’s all the tolerable ones. Ginny is a little firecracker, isn’t she? And don’t be fooled by Percy, he’s got a wild side and will absolutely lay someone out if he wants too. He just plays the act of a sheepish book nerd.”

“Good to know,” Harry says, smiling at Tonks.

“Oh crap!” Tonks yells. “Has it been half an hour already. Shit, time really flies when you’re having fun. Gotta go Good Potter, but I’ve got to meet Professor Flitwick to go over my last homework assignment. I really have to do well on that NEWT. Hey, you’ll let me know if you need anything, right? Of course you will, you are a smart one little man! Tell your owl to find me if you need me, or just yell like really really loudly and I’ll come running. Us good Black descendants have to stick together and there aren’t many of us. See ya, and stay out of trouble. Or get into it. Just don’t get into someone’s pants, you are too young. Wait until your second year at least, trust me! Bye!”

Harry waves at Tonks as she rushes off and out of the courtyard.

“I think I got like four words in the entire time,” Harry says to his owl

Hedwig nods and chirps at Harry in an insulting manner.

“Oh fuck you, my voice is fine.”

Hedwig chirps as she flies above Harry’s head, clearly laughing at him.

“I should have gotten a fucking cat.”

Harry spends the rest of the time before lunch cleaning owl poop out of his hair.

________________________________________

Susan can’t help but be impressed with her four classmates.

She’s already heard rumors about Dean Thomas’ lack of decorum and suspects that he is only scraping by because he’s friends with Charles and because everyone gives muggleborns a bit of a leeway in their first year.

But these four are clearly taking to the customs and culture of the Wizarding World quite well.

Harry is certainly not a surprise. He’s already been living in their world for over a month, and he has a certain talent of twisting words that Susan knows many adults struggle with. Harry has already been able to dance verbal circles around his brother and even Heir Apparent Malfoy.

Justin is very seasoned with his approach. Apparently his family is also titled in the muggle world, much to the shock of his friends. As a result, Justin is quite comfortable with the more detached introductions that take place in the Wizarding World.

Morag is clearly knowledgeable and follows customs. But she’s also shown a flagrant disregard for tradition once before, during her sorting, and Susan doesn’t doubt that the girl would do it again if she found a reason to. Or just for fun.

Hermione is clearly the most dedicated to her studies, citing different texts through the lesson. Her approach is a bit stiff as a result, given that there are some nuances that just can’t be learned through reading, but it’s certainly acceptable.

Susan has heard that muggleborns and muggle-raised students often struggle to adjust to the customs and culture when they start at Hogwarts, but the four before her definitely don’t have the same troubles.

That’s not to say they don’t have troubles. The four should have been protected by every student whose family is in the Light Alliance, but they have been left mostly to their own devices instead, due to Heir Apparent Potter’s egregious failure as the de facto head of the Light Alliance for the first years.

Yet Susan can’t help but feel like the four are thriving as a result.

“I must say, I am impressed. You guys are absorbing lessons that took me weeks to get through in a matter of hours.”

Harry smirks in response, and Morag gives Susan a toothy grin. Justin smiles politely as Hermione blushes.

“It’s no big deal,” Hermione speaks up. “I just tend to read ahead.”

“I think we all do,” Harry agrees, smiling at Hermione who smiles back.

________________________________________

September 8, 1991

For the first time in what feels like forever, Hannah sits alone in silence.

Hufflepuffs are nothing if not pack animals. Hannah hasn’t had a moment to herself since she was sorted. And her home is no different, especially when Harry was around.

But sometimes Hannah needs to think, and it’s really hard to do that when people are around.

At least now Megan is out with Fay, Ernie, and a couple of other people, so Hannah has the first-years girl’s dorm to herself. As much as she hates not rooming with Susan, at least can occasionally sneak up here for a bit of peace and quiet.

A little time to think.

And she really needs that. Ever since the sorting hat was on Hannah’s head, it’s like everything is so jumbled up.

Hannah was raised to be the perfect Hufflepuff, like her parents. Hardworking and loyal to a fault.

But her parents never told her what to do when her loyalties conflict with each other.

“The real question is, if you had to choose between the two, who would you choose?”

Hannah has been mulling over the hat’s words all week. But she just doesn’t know.

She knew that she would probably have to decide eventually. Harry is just so stubborn. There was no way he wasn’t going to alienate the whole Light Alliance.

Not that Hannah blames him, but still. It puts a lot of Harry’s friends in a tough position. Especially Michael.

Rolf is easy. He’ll follow Michael to the end of the world, especially after what Michael told them last week. And a few weeks ago, Hannah would have thought Susan would struggle with choosing between Harry and the Alliance, but truthfully, Susan doesn’t have to. Without her family’s 18 votes, the Light Alliance is pretty much sunk. They need her more than she needs them.

But the same can’t be said about the rest of them.

The two people that are stuck making a difficult decision in all of this are Michael and Hannah.

Michael is clearly torn up inside. He wants to be loyal and be Harry’s friend, but his mother is basically ordering him to stay away from Harry. And what is Michael supposed to do? Not only is his mother Michael’s only family, but if she pushes him away, then Michael is left with nothing. No family, no protection, no Cedric, nothing.

And Hannah … she doesn’t want to have to choose between Michael and Harry. How the hell is she supposed to choose between the two of them?

Michael has been Hannah’s friends for years. He’s been everything she’s wanted for as long as long as she’s realized what dating was. He was the first person to give her butterflies. He’s strong, and confident, and brave, and loyal, and chiseled like a god, and probably the closest thing Hannah has to a best guy friend. Or at least he was, before she met Harry.

Michael’s easy to understand. He’s one thing, clear-cut, but Harry is different.

Harry is like two sides of a coin. He’s cute and precious and fragile and Hannah wants to wrap him in a big hug and protect him from the world. But he’s also dangerous. His words are cutting and his actions are clever and his magic is almost suffocating. And he just feels right. It feels right when Hannah is by his side. She feels stronger, like the best version of herself.

But Harry is so stubborn. He’s never willing to meet anyone halfway, it’s all or nothing with him. And Hannah gets it, she really does. When someone has been burned as many times as Harry has, it’s hard to trust. Hard to open up.

But it can be frustrating too. Hannah doesn’t know what to do when she’s around Harry. Sometimes it’s great, and they are friends and she can hold his hand and they can go outside and play or spend the day reading and everything is fine, or sometimes Harry cuts himself off from the world and Hannah doesn’t understand why or how to help him.

Harry is complicated and amazing at the same time, but Michael is uncomplicated and he’s incredible too.

And with what Michael told her, about his mother … Hannah knows both of her friends need her. Harry needs friends, people by his side. But so does Michael. They both need people to stay by their sides, to make sure they feel loved.

Neither of them can take a blow right now. Neither of them can lose a friend. But Hannah will have to choose, if not now, eventually.

Hannah doesn’t know what to do.

The sorting hat said she would have time. Why is she having to choose so quickly?

What is she supposed to do?

________________________________________

September 10, 1991

Justin originally sought out Michael at breakfast that morning to get more a feel for his roommate and fellow hufflepuff.

Justin knows that Michael and Harry were apparently friends before the two came to Hogwarts, but Justin can’t really see that being true. In fact, out of all of Harry’s supposed friends, Susan is the only one who Harry has really spent any time with, and apparently she was who Harry was the least close with.

It just doesn’t make any sense. Justin isn’t ignorant, he knows kids their age are fickle beings and can change their behavior on a dime but …

When Harry talks about his friendships, he speaks about them with such a wistful tone. And Justin knows Harry well enough to know that the boy doesn’t let his guard down for just anyone.

Justin really wanted to know what was so special about Michael, and the others.

And he gets it, he really does. Michael is fun to talk to, easy to get along with, and seems like he would make a friend.

So, what happened?

Justin is so engrossed in his conversation with Harry that he doesn’t even notice when Harry walks over, Hedwig-less but a smile still plastered on his face.

“Hey Harry,” Justin greets, before he notices Michael’s reaction to Harry’s approach.

Michael tenses, almost physically pulling away Harry before he seems to get his wits back and stops himself. But still, there’s a deep frown on Michael’s face as he stares at Harry almost longingly.

Harry barely even glances at Michael, but that’s all it takes. Harry’s entire body tenses, his bottom lip wobbles just a bit before Harry bites it to keep it still, and though Harry isn’t crying, there’s a wetness in his eyes.

Justin opens his mouth to say something, to scold Michael or comfort Harry, but Harry stops him, turning back to face Michael.

Harry clenches his fists and both Michael and Justin start to choke at the suffocating force of Harry’s righteous anger.

“What did I do wrong?” Harry asks angrily, and Justin can see the tears that Harry is keeping at bay and can hear the shakiness in his voice. “I don’t … just let me know what I did wrong so I can fix it next time.”

A single tear falls down Michael’s face, as he shakes his head, almost as if he doesn’t understand Harry’s question. Or doesn’t know how to answer.

Harry lets out a watery scoff and sniffles, finally prompting Justin to action.

Justin wraps his arm around Harry’s waist pulling the boy close, starting to lead him away from Michael.

He focuses one last glare on Michael before the boy is out of sight. His roommate is just standing there, uselessly, as he tries not to cry.

Like somehow he’s the one with something to cry about.

________________________________________

September 11, 1991

Daphne is only afraid, truly afraid, of three people.

Daphne’s mother and father can intimidate her and scare her at times, but she’s not really afraid of her parents. And her godmother, Lady Marietta Flint, is an excellent prankster and wordsmith, but she mostly leaves her goddaughter alone.

Daphne just isn’t afraid of most people.

There are two people that every rational person is terrified of, in Britain at least.

Lord Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore.

Thankfully, one is dead and the other is quite old.

But the other … Daphne doesn’t have a logical reason to be scared of him. And she’s not afraid of him in the same way that she’s afraid of the other two.

But he’s still terrifying.

Jacob Potter, her godfather, has a huge moral compass and has spent the last thirteen years instilling those ideals and principles into his goddaughter, by whatever potentially embarrassing means are at his disposal.

Jacob Potter will publicly humiliate himself and everyone associated with him, just to make a point.

Case in point, the bright red envelope clutched in Hedwig’s claws.

At first everyone stares at Harry, figuring his owl is delivering the howler to him. They ponder who it’s from. Is it his parents? Malfoy’s parents? It could even be Molly Weasley at this point, she’s certainly known for sending howlers, and Harry is known for going out of his way to antagonize Ron Weasley, much to the chagrin of the Weasley Twins (Ron is theirs to mess with, not anyone else) and to the willful ignorance of Percy.

But Daphne knows that’s not true. Hedwig is too loyal to Harry, and too smart. She wouldn’t be delivering a howler to him.

No, the howler is for her.

“Fuck,” Daphne whispers, causing Blaise to flinch back in shock and Tracey to wince.

Daphne rarely curses, especially so openly, but the current circumstances warrant an exception.

Harry looks over at Daphne, a curious look on his face.

Daphne looks down at her lap, in shame. She’s about to be publicly humiliated, and all because she’s behaved so idiotically.

She was so sure that she was right. If Theo wasn’t living in the separate dorms with them, maybe it could have been different. Maybe Daphne and Tracey could have at least continued the friendship privately.

But Daphne couldn’t risk her family’s reputation, not when so much is on the line. One misstep, and the Grey Alliance. Families like the Edgecombs and the Smiths are teetering on the edge, and all it takes is one scandal for everything to fall apart.

All of her father’s work. Her family’s work. It could all be gone because of who Daphne decided to associate with in her first year.

It sounds ridiculous, but crazier things have happened. The Grey Alliance and her own House are in such a fragile position, and they have to remain strong. They have to be the force that keeps either the Dark or the Light Alliance from gaining complete control.

At least, that’s how Daphne would defend herself.

And all of that is true. Harry is volatile, potentially even political quicksand. He leans right up against the line, pressing against it but not crossing over. But he could, at any moment, and if Daphne was associated with Harry, he could bring her down with him, and the reputation of her House with him.

All of that is true, but Daphne knows there’s another truth.

She’s scared. She almost broke her family apart when she bonded with Tracey, her father’s wishes be damned. She bonded with Tracey to protect her, knowing her father would have to protect Tracey and that it would put her family in a dangerous position. That they would be indebted to an Ancient House, and one from the Dark Alliance.

But Daphne did it. She behaved irrationally and almost brought her whole House’s reputation down to protect Tracey. She did everything she could to protect someone. Someone useful, someone Daphne needed. She did everything she could to protect her friend.

Just like her godfather taught her.

But there were consequences. Her parent’s love Tracey, but Daphne’s actions hurt her family, her House, and the Grey Alliance. They lost the Noble House of Chang to the Light Alliance, and they almost lost the Edgecombs, Slughorns, and even the Clearwaters because of Daphne’s stunt.

She couldn’t do that to her family again, no matter what her godfather taught her.

She couldn’t put her family, her House, and her sister’s future on the line like that again. She’s spent years trying to think of ways to make up for the things she did, working out complex plans to help her House after the losses she inflicted upon them.

And as much as Daphne wishes it weren’t the truth, none of the viable plans included taking Harry under her wing and protecting him like she wanted to. Like she did with Tracey.

Her House, her family, it’s a sinking ship, and Daphne already forced them to take on water to save Tracey. She can’t do that to them again.

So she left Harry to fend for himself at least until he could prove himself. If he could that is. Then at least, Daphne would have an excuse, a good reason.

And Harry was fending for himself. He was making his own way, not one that Daphne would have picked, but a path all on his own.

Daphne didn't even realize how much Harry was hurting till he snapped at Tracey. She’s never been good at that, understanding how other people are feeling. She has a decent understanding of Tracey’s and Astoria’s emotions, but not other people. Not people she doesn’t know.

And the vice versa is also true. People can rarely tell what Daphne is feeling.

But Tracey can. Her best friend has been so angry at Daphne ever since Harry finally snapped at Tracey, and rightfully so. They’ve barely talked, but Daphne can feel Tracey trying to soothe her through the bond.

But the perplexing thing is Harry, staring at her with an intense focus as Daphne keeps her face perfectly calm even as panic rises inside her.

Hedwig drops the letter, flying over to land on Harry’s shoulder.

Daphne takes a deep breath as the entire Great Hall stares at her, before she reaches to open the letter.

Harry’s eyes widen a bit, almost as if he can tell how nervous Daphne is. But how? She’s not giving off any physical indicators, not yet at least. Tracey works harder to soothe Daphne through their bond, but it’s useless at this point.

“DAPHNE DOREA GREENGRASS, HOW DARE YOU? HARRY IS MY BLOOD, MY FAMILY, JUST AS YOU ARE MY FAMILY, AND YOU TREAT HIM LIKE THIS! MY OWN GODDAUGHTER BETRAYING MY FLESH AND BLOO-”

Daphne lets a single tear stream down her cheek, attempting to mentally prepare herself for the further onslaught.

“Incendio!” Harry casts, causing the letter to burst into flames.

The entire Great Hall stares at Harry with bated breath.

“What the bloody hell was that thing?” Harry yells, enraged.

“A howler,” Tracey answers hesitantly. “It’s an angry letter.”

“It’s damn right abusive is what it is!” Harry snaps. “Jesus fuck!”

“Mr. Potter, 50 points from Slytherin and two nights detention!” Professor McGonagall snaps. “For destroying another student's mail and your abhorrent language.”

“For destroyi-” Harry starts to say in disbelief before glaring at Professor McGonagall. “That wasn’t a letter, that was a crime against humanity. Are those things actually allowed in school?”

Professor McGonagall looks flustered, which is all the answer Harry needs.

“Merlin, are you serious? That was awful to listen to, and I wasn’t even the one being yelled at. Public humiliation is allowed here?”

“Howlers are quite common,” Blaise pipes up. “There’s already been two this year, you’ve just missed them.”

Harry stares at Blaise in shock. “That’s … that’s despicable. Heir Apparent Greengrass, I apologize for my family member’s inexcusable actions. I know you and I aren’t on the best of terms, but that doesn’t mean my Ja-Uncle can verbally harass you like that, whether he’s your godfather or not. I promise you; I will take steps to warn and properly notify Jacob Potter that such actions will not be tolerated further. You have my word. Let it be known.”

Several gasps are heard around the hall, but Daphne can’t help but be a little impressed by Harry’s words. He officially made the matter one of House Potter, which means his detentions and the point deductions will be dismissed and adding “Let it be known” further cements that, as long as someone seconds it.

“Let it be known!” Susan Bones echoes, with several other voices popping in a few seconds later, mostly from Light Alliance families that tend to be less fanatical, such as Cho Chang, Percy Weasley, and even Oliver Wood.

Harry stares at Daphne expectantly, so Daphne nods as she tries to collect herself enough to respond.

“I appreciate your promise, Heir Potter, but no action is required.”

“I understand your view, Heir Apparent Greengrass, but steps will be taken regardless. I once again apologize.”

Harry nods at Daphne, before sweeping out of the room, leaving devastation in his wake.

Daphne can’t help but be a little impressed as Harry leaves.

She definitely made the wrong choice. She should have stood by Harry from the very start.

________________________________________

A Few Days Later

“SINCE APPARENTLY YOU LIKE HOWLERS SO MUCH, HOW DO YOU LIKE GETTING ONE FROM ME? HUH? DOESN’T FEEL SO GOOD, DOES IT? DON’T YOU DARE EVER SEND ANOTHER HOWLER AGAIN JACOB. YOU ARE LUCKY YOU ARE LITERALLY THE ONE FAMILY MEMBER IN MY LIFE THAT HASN’T MAJORLY DISAPPOINTED OR BETRAYED ME. GODDAMNIT JACOB, DON’T PULL SHIT LIKE THIS AGAIN, OK? YOU ARE LUCKY THAT I STILL LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU GODDAMNIT! BUT ALSO FUCK YOU!

SENT WITH LOVE AND ANGER,

YOUR DISAPPOINTED FAMILY MEMBER, HARRY POTTER.”

Ivy takes a long sip of her tea after the howler finishes, before saying, “I told you a howler was a bad idea.”

“Yeah I know. Fuck, I’m an idiot. Did I just wreck my relationship with Harry?”

“Somewhat miraculously, I don’t think you did. But we are gonna have to push up the timeline on your gift. Now go write an apology letter.”

Jacob nods, pulling out some parchment.

He barely gets a line in before another red envelope arrives.

Jacob sighs. Harry must’ve told Emmeline.

“Shit.”

________________________________________

September 12, 1991

Harry is a complete mess as he walks out onto the quidditch pitch for today’s flying lesson.

He doesn’t have the slightest clue what they went over today in Transfiguration, since he spent most of the class with Justin and surprisingly, Susan, with him huddled between the two.

“I don’t know what’s going on with them,” Susan whispers to Harry. “But I’m still here. I’m still your friend.”

Harry is the last one to arrive at the quidditch pitch, clearly already angering the Flying Instructor, Rolanda Hooch.

“Heir Potter! Wanna tell me why you are five minutes late?”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, before shaking his head.

He couldn’t even get the words out.

Charles stares at Harry with sad eyes, which fills Harry with a surge of anger, but it’s not enough to prompt him to action.

Draco is sneering at Harry, along with his three goons. Ron looks like he’s a second away from laughter, with Seamus and a more reluctant Dean almost egging him on.

Daphne and Tracey stare at Harry with a sense of understanding that feels him with more dread as Harry walks over to stand next to Hermione.

Harry notices two people in the quidditch stands, watching the crowd intently. The one in red leans forward as Harry approaches his broom. The other, in a robe with green trimmings, doesn’t react much, but he is laser-focused on Harry.

“Who are they?” Harry asks shakily.

“The Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch captains,” Hermione answers. “Heir Apparent Oliver Wood of the Noble House of Wood for the Gryffindors and Heir Apparent Marcus Flint of the Ancient and Noble House of Flint for the Slytherins.”

Harry nods, glancing down at the broom in front of him, before quickly looking away.

He wishes Hedwig was here. But he sent Hedwig away so he could yell at Jacob, which is more important than this.

He wishes Jacob was here. Or Serena. Or Mitchell. Or Aunt Emme. He wishes Susan was here. Or that he was still on speaking terms with Michael, Rolf, and Hannah and that they were here. He wishes that Daphne and Tracey were still his friends and could support him. He wishes Justin and Morag could be here. He wishes that Ginny and Percy were here. He wishes for someone, for people.

He needs people.

Hermione reaches over, grabbing Harry’s hand.

Harry doesn’t even realize he was crying until he feels a wetness on his cheek.

He wipes away the tears, trying and failing to listen to Instructor Hooch’s instructions.

People start to yell “up” all around him, their brooms racing off the ground and into their hands.

But Harry can’t bring himself to do it.

“Heir Potter! Were you not listening to the instructions?”

Harry shakes his head, getting a loud groan from the annoyed and irate instructor.

“Just do what your classmates are doing.”

Harry nods, holding his hand out. Most of his classmates are still struggling to get their broom to cooperate, but some like Draco, Charles, Ron, and even Fay succeeded within the first few tries.

“U-” Harry starts to say, before biting down on his bottom lip to keep from sobbing. “Up.”

The broom immediately bolts upward, slamming into Harry’s hand roughly.

Harry lets out a small whine, pulling everyone’s attention towards him. Ron actually chuckles, getting glares from half of Slytherin and even a few Gryffindors, such as Fay and Hermione.

Hermione has completely given up on trying to get her broom up, as the two quidditch captains walk down from the bleachers, quickly approaching the first years.

“Now, everyone that has managed to get your brooms up, mount them. You will be the first ones to fly.”

Harry whines again, prompting Hermione to action. “Instructor Hooch, Harry shouldn’t have to-”

“This class is called Flying, Miss Granger, not standing. So Heir Potter will fly, or he will fail the class.”

Several students bristle in anger for Harry, and Neville’s broom actually snaps into his hand as he glares at the instructor.

“Instructor Hooch!” Daphne shouts. “Can’t you see he’s terrified.”

A few hours ago, Harry would’ve been stunned that Daphne intervened for him, but Harry can barely think as he starts to mount the broom under the watchful eye of Instructor Hooch.

Ron lets out another laugh, before flinching back at the combined glares of Pansy Parkinson, Fay Dunbar, Hermione Granger, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, and even Neville Longbottom.

Seamus and Dean both wisely shut up. Charles grips his broom tightly.

Oliver and Marcus are fast approaching, but the quidditch pitch is rather large and it takes them time to walk over.

“Instructor Hooch!” Daphne chastises, glaring at the older woman.

“Don’t try to intimidate me, Heir Apparent Greengrass. The only person that can excuse Heir Potter from this class is Lord or Lady Potter. He will fly or he will fail!”

It’s very clear that Daphne’s intervention is souring Instructor Hooch’s mood further. Her House used to be closely aligned with the Grey Alliance, despite being only an Aged House, but that all changed when Adrian Greengrass became the de facto head of the Alliance. He completely abandoned most of the Aged and Minor Noble houses that were loyal to the Grey Alliance, focusing instead on Ancient and Noble Houses with guaranteed voting power.

Her family tried to become important to the Light Alliance, to little avail. They were still titled, but they lost all of their power and prestige because of Lord Greengrass.

“Get in the air, Heir Potter. Or fail my class. Just know, you have to pass my class before your OWL year, or else you won’t be able to take your OWLs at Hogwarts.”

Harry flinches, remembering what Percy told him over a month ago. Harry needs those OWLs, or else his biologicals will actually be able to disown him.

Harry starts to lift off into the air, remember the instructions Ginny gave him the last time he flew.

Tears are pouring down Harry’s face as he slowly makes his way up into the air.

“Good Heir Potter. Now, just don’t look down at the ground.”

Harry whimpers. The ground. There’s no water below him now. Nothing to cushion his fall, just the hard ground. If he falls this time, he’s done. He’s dead.

“I want down,” Harry cries out. “I want down!”

Magic starts to pool in the quidditch pitch, shocking several of the students. Charles mounts his broom in anticipation.

“Instructor Hooch!” Daphne yells, with several other voices joining her call for the instructor to help Harry.

But Harry can’t hear them. He can only feel the jerkiness of his broom and the terrifying sensation of being several feet up in the air with no safety net.

“I want down! I want down! I want down!” Harry sobs, clinging to his broom. “Ginny, get me down, please!”

Charles flinches. Harry’s having a flashback.

“Shit.”

“Heir Potter, just calm do-”

“Ginny!” Harry cries. “I want down. I want off! Please! Help me!”

Harry can’t get any more words out before wracking sobs start to overtake him.

And no one else can say anything either, as Harry’s swirling magic fills the entire quidditch pitch, suffocating everyone on the field.

Except for one person.

Harry screams at the top of his lungs as clings to his broom. “I want down! I want off! I WANT OFF!”

An explosion rocks the pitch and Harry’s broom explodes, throwing the boy several feet further into the air before he starts to arc into the ground.

Everyone is thrown back as the broom explodes. The splintered broom falls down in pieces as Harry begins to fall back to the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Several people just stare in shock, but others race to reach Harry in time, reaching for their wands or their brooms.

But Charles shoots into the air before they can.

He grabs Harry, wincing as his twin thrashes about, hitting him in the face.

Harry cries out, almost falling as he struggles to escape Charles’ grasp.

Charles lands roughly on the ground, both boys tumbling as they crash land.

Oliver and Marcus rush over. They may be on opposite teams, but they know that neither of them would dare do anything to hurt a first year. They don’t trust each other, but they can for this.

Oliver quickly casts a detection charm of Harry and Charles wincing at Harry’s injuries.

He has a sprained ankle, and burns on his hands, face, and body from when the broom exploded. Not to mention splinters all over his body.

“Go get Madam Pomfrey!” Oliver demands.

Most people stare at the scene in shock, still pulling themselves together, but Fay Dunbar nods, jumping on her broom and shooting off towards the school.

“Is he ok?” Marcus asks, staring at Harry with concerned eyes.

If Harry is hurt, severely hurt, his mothers are going to kill him. Marcus was supposed to look after Harry, but he’s been so busy that he’s barely even seen the kid. And now …

Harry pulls himself onto his knees, gagging and retching as sobs still wrack his small form.

Oliver moves next to the kid, pulling Harry into a tight hug from behind.

Oliver remembers the story Percy told him about that day. How Harry cold-clocked Lily Potter when she tried to pull him into a hug from the front but let Ginny hug him from behind and calm him down.

“Shhh shh,” Oliver whispers, pulling Harry against his chest and stroking the smaller boy’s hair. “It’s ok Heir Potter, you are safe. You are on the ground. Madam Pomfrey is on her way.”

Charles stands up, wincing a bit when he notices a gash on his leg. Ron, Seamus, and Dean all rush to his side, forcing him to sit back down but Charles keeps his eyes firmly on his twin as Harry sobs into Oliver’s chest.

Hermione, Daphne, and several other Slytherins approach Harry, but Marcus steps in front of the growing crowd, separating them from Oliver and Harry. He scowls Instructor Hooch, who is standing motionlessly and uselessly away from the rest of the students.

“Marcus,” Oliver says. “Let her through.”

Marcus nods, letting Hermione through. Hermione rushes to Harry’s side, dropping to her knees and laying a supportive hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Marcus,” Tracey says pleadingly. “Let me through.”

Marcus nods, stopping only when Oliver growls in response, pulling Harry and Hermione closer.

“She’s good Oliver. She’s like Penelope.”

Oliver relaxes a bit, and Marcus lets Tracey through, who immediately starts throwing detection charms at Harry.

“It’s second degree burns on his body and face, where he was hugging the broom. His hands are second degree too, but they are much worse. I need something to help keep his hands from getting infected until Madam Pomfrey can get here.”

Hermione and Oliver both wince at the list of Harry’s injuries.

Oliver pulls out his wand, ripping off a piece of his robe and transfiguring it into a sterile towel.

Tracey takes the towel, wrapping Harry’s hands in it to protect the burns from infection.

Daphne turns to face Instructor Hooch, glaring at the woman.

“Heiress Rolanda Hooch of the Aged House of Hooch, let it be known that the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass is now exacting a blood feud against your House on my orders as the Heir Apparent of my House for your heinous words and actions against my personal friend, Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter! Let it be known!”

Several gasps of shock ring out throughout the pitch. Declarations of blood feuds are extremely rare. Even declaring that a blood feud is being considered is raring, but outright declaring a blood feud is almost unheard of.

Rolanda Hooch can feel her entire life flash before her eyes her only chance is that no one-

“Let it be known!” Blaise Zabini declares, quick to stay on Daphne’s good side.

“Let it be known!” Marcus growls.

“Let it be known!” Theo Nott speaks up, shocking several slytherins.

Rolanda curses her fate.

“Let it be known!” Charles declares. “Heiress Rolanda Hooch of the Aged House of Hooch, let it be known that the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter is heavily considering a blood feud against your House on my orders as the Heir Apparent of my House for your heinous words and actions against my brother and heir, Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter! Let it be known!”

This time almost everyone repeats Charles’ call, permanently sealing Rolanda Hooch’s fate.

Rolanda feels like she can’t breathe, but no one pays her much mind as Harry continues to sob and cry into Oliver’s chest.

Hermione can’t believe the show of support for Harry. Even those that seemingly despised Harry, such as Heir Apparent Malfoy, are now openly supporting him.

But what Hermione doesn’t know is that the wizarding population of Great Britain has lived through two wars in less than 100 years. Many people have seen combat or family members cut down in front of them.

The Wizarding World is very familiar with trauma. And no one can deny the trauma Harry has clearly endured as he sobs into a stranger’s arms.

Rolanda Hooch just forced a child to live a painful and traumatic memory because of her own stubbornness and anger with another student and her House.

Her life is now over.

________________________________________

“Lady Potter,” Albus greets as the woman floos into his office. “How are Charles and your Heir doing?”

Lily glares at Albus. “Not well Albus. Not well at all.”

Albus bristles. “I understand your anger, Lady Potter. Rolanda was indeed a bit-”

“She’s lucky to not be in Azkaban right now!” Lily yells. “If Harry had died, she would be.”

“I understand, Lily, but surely you understand the position this is putting me in. Rolanda was someone who was loyal to me. To our cause. And now Charles has declared a possible blood feud against her House.”

“I convinced James to deny the feud,” Lily says. “But only if Heiress Hooch is immediately removed from any position at Hogwarts and permanently banned from serving at this school in any capacity.”

Albus nods. “I understand Lady Potter. That is very generous.”

“Do not test me Albus. You said he would be safe.”

“Surely you predicted this outcome Lily”

Lily glares at Albus. “I am doing what is best for my children.”

“Of course Lily. I didn't mean to imply otherwise.”

Lily bristles. “We did this together, Albus. We made this choice together. Now do your part and protect Harry. Like you promised!”

“Of course.”

Lily glares at Albus one last time before flooing back to the infirmary.

________________________________________

Harry lies in the infirmary, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted his friends by his side, if anyone, but instead he had to spend the last several hours with his biologicals and his twin.

At least his parent’s mostly focused on Charles, letting Harry pretend to fall asleep for some of their visit. And seeing Rose was nice, even though she seemed a little hesitant and distant the entire time.

Charles spent most of his time in the infirmary worrying over Harry, much to Harry’s surprise. He doesn’t really know what to think of Charles right now. He still hates his brother for what he did, but right now Harry almost feels conflicted.

At least Charles’ injuries were minor, so he got released just before dinner. Harry, on the other hand, doesn’t get to leave until Sunday night, just to ensure that his burns all heal properly.

“Heir Potter,” Madam Pomfrey says as she approaches the boy. “I was able to get into contact with the person you wanted to visit. Would you rather wait until tomorrow or-”

“Please,” Harry pleads. “I mean just … can I see her? Please?”

Madam Pomfrey nods, walking over to the floo. A few seconds later, Emmeline Vance bursts into the room, tears already in her eyes.

“Aunt Emme,” Harry whimpers, and Emmeline bursts over, pulling Harry into a hug.

“Oh Harry. I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry Harry.”

Harry just clings to Emmeline, letting her comfort him and hold him close.

She’s not the adult he trusts the most, but with everything going on with Hannah, Harry doesn’t want to get Serena involved. And Jacob is too far away.

And Aunt Emmeline loves him, he knows that. And that’s all he needs right now.

He slowly drifts off in his Aunt’s arms.

________________________________________

September 13, 1991

Daphne is getting really tired of listening to Draco prattle on about the incident at the Quidditch pitch.

“Of course Heiress Hooch was in the wrong for forcing Harry onto that broom, but all I’m saying is that maybe she showed us something we all needed to see.”

“Like what?” Gemma Fawley asks, scowling at the blonde boy. Unlike most of the people in the room, her House is part of the Grey Alliance, which means she doesn’t have to bow down to Heir Apparent Malfoy.

“Like the fact that he’s an obscurial.”

Several gasps are heard around the room, and others yell in disbelief.

“He is not!” Marcus vehemently disagrees.

“Of course he is. How else do you explain his magical outburst? And accidental magic at 13? That doesn’t just happen, especially so explosively. He has to be an obscurial.”

Daphne scowls at Draco. “Do you have any proof?”

Draco bristles, glaring back at Greengrass. “Only what I saw with my own two eyes.”

“Oh, I was unaware that you were an expert on obscurials.”

Draco sneers at Greengrass. “As I was saying-”

“Actually, maybe you should just stop, Heir Apparent Malfoy. Before you make yourself liable for slander.”

“And how exactly would Heir Potter sue me? We all know his family has practically disowned him. All he has left is his trust fund. My family would bury him.”

Daphne can see the smirk on Draco’s face. He wants this. He wants Harry to pull a move like this, unsupported. If Harry did so without, Lord Malfoy would be able to bury him.

Except, Draco doesn’t know that Draco’s own disowned aunt, Solicitor Andromeda Tonks, would drop everything to serve as Harry’s lawyer. And likely free of charge.

Draco also doesn’t expect for Harry to have any support.

Draco is wrong.

“If Heir Potter decides to sue Heir Apparent Malfoy for slander, I will personally work to persuade my family to back Harry’s claim, pushing the suit into Wizengamot. Let it be known!”

Draco flinches back. In lower courts, Lord Malfoy can bribe his way into winning any trial. But not in Wizengamot. Not when the Light is chomping at the teeth to hurt Lord Lucius Malfoy’s reputation. Especially not if the Grey Alliance would be voting against House Malfoy.

“Let it be known,” Marcus and Gemma both echo.

Daphne smirks at Draco, before turning and walking into the private dorms. She knows that Draco will continue to spread rumors, but at least now he won’t go to the press to slander Harry. It’s not much, but it’s something.

By the time morning breaks, everyone will know that Daphne has formally positioned herself with Harry.

She really hopes she made the right choice this time.

________________________________________

September 14, 1991

Morag, Justin, and Hermione all sit together in an unused classroom, huddled together as if someone is in the empty room, listening to them.

“It’s insane,” Justin says. “Just yesterday, everyone was supporting Harry, but now …”

“They are all calling him an obscurial,” Morag agrees. “It’s abhorrent. They still think what happened to him is terrible, but they are scared of him.”

“But they aren’t acting like they are scared of him,” Hermione says. “If they truly think he’s dangerous, then why are they continuing to tease him and make fun of him? Wouldn’t that be the last thing they want to do?”

“If Harry actually is an obscurial, then apparently he would be a weak one. That magical outburst was big, but not nearly destructive enough for an obscurial,” Morag answers.

“Are you serious?” Hermione asks. “They don’t think it was big.”

“They think that he can’t really do much to hurt them,” Justin says. “Only himself.”

“Things are about to get a lot worse for Harry,” Morag says. “The obscurial rumors are going to push people away from Harry. It’ll be like the last two weeks, only so much worse.”

Hermione and Justin both wince. It was hard watching Harry suffer as his supposed “friends” turned their back on him.

“So, what can we do?” Justin asks.

“Well, answer me this. Who is the person who has helped us the most since we came to the Wizarding World?”

“Harry,” Justin answers immediately.

“Who’s the person that made sure all of us felt welcome? The person that made us all feel like we had a friend for the first time ever?”

“Harry,” Hermione answers.

Morag nods. “No one else has done anything for us, at least not as much as he has. He’s helped us, given us advice, lent us his books, given us his time, let us borrow Hedwig to send letters home because the purebloods hog the school owls. He’s given us everything he’s been able to give without us even asking.”

Justin and Hermione both nod in agreement.

“I think it’s time that we both do the same.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Everyone else seems to have their little groups of people. People they talk with, study with, protect and care for. I suggest that we do that for Harry and each other. And then, once it’s been six months, I think we should bond with him.”

“Really?” Justin asks. “I mean, I’m all for the first part, but isn’t bonding like a really big deal in the Wizarding World?”

“Yeah, most witches and wizards know each other for years before they bond,” Hermione adds.

“Yeah, but what do we care?” Morag asks. “We may be witches and wizards, but we were raised in the muggle world. We were raised in a world where people bonded after only six months.”

“Yeah, but those bonds are all treated like they’re … disposable,” Hermione says, disgust clear in her voice. “I don’t want that.”

“Then we don’t have to do that,” Morag says. “Let’s be there for Harry like he’s been there for us. Permanently.”

Justin and Hermione both look a bit unsure, so Morag pushes ahead.

“Look, I know you guys have your parental bonds, but Harry doesn’t. And we all know what our lives are like without non-familial bonds, but he doesn’t have any. I don’t think we can fully understand what his life was like before all of this. I mean, I still have one bond, even if it’s fading, and it was still terrible. Not having anyone to connect to. Not having people. I can’t even imagine how bad it was for Harry. And I know you two know what that’s like too, at least a little bit. Maybe not at home, but definitely at school. Not having any friends or people by our side. But Harry, he’s our friend. He’s by our side. And he needs us. And we need him. We all need each other, or else we won’t make it here. We could barely survive in the muggle world by ourselves, but here? We don’t stand a chance unless we stand together. And if we do fail, and we end up all having to go back to the muggle world, well, then we’ll still have each other.”

“I’m in,” Justin says. “Hufflepuff is supposed to be the House of loyalty, but my housemates have done a pathetic job at showing that. Harry deserves better.”

Morag nods, smiling at Justin.

Hermione frowns, biting her bottom lip.

“Hermione?” Justin asks. “What’s stopping you? Do you … is this not something you want?”

Hermione shakes her head. “No, it’s not that. I’ve just been … I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that day of the Flying lesson. About what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Morag asks.

“I mean, it’s just … everyone keeps insisting that the explosion was accidental magic. Because Harry didn't have a wand.”

Justin and Morag both nod, trying to figure out what Hermione is leading to.

“It’s just, I don’t think it was an accident. The magic at the quidditch pitch, it almost seemed to swirl around Harry. And the last thing he said, well yelled, before the broom exploded was that he wanted off. I think Harry blew up the broom on purpose.”

“Why would he do that?” Justin asks. “Blowing up the broom wasn’t going to help him.”

“You guys weren’t there,” Hermione says. “Harry wasn’t thinking straight, he was so panicked. He wouldn’t have listened to anything or anyone at that point. He was so scared he couldn’t be reasoned with. He couldn’t see reason. So I think, when he yelled that he wanted off, I think his magic … complied.”

“But wandless magic is practically impossible at our age,” Morag says.

“Practically. Unless … what if it’s his bond ability?”

Justin and Morag both stare at Hermione in shock as the pieces start to fall into place.

“Hermione, how did you figure all this out?” Justin asks.

Hermione smiles at Justin. “Don’t you remember what I said to Susan last week? I read ahead.”

“I think we all do,” Morag says, echoing Harry’s words from that same day. “Yeah, we all do. Just like Harry said. And maybe just maybe, that’ll give us the advantage we need.”

________________________________________

September 15, 1991

It’s a Sunday.

The second Sunday of the month.

Which means all of the Alliance meetings are happening today.

That’s what Gemma was referring too with Daphne back when Harry first moved into the dorms. Every second Sunday, the students break into three different meetings, based on where their family fits in with regards to the Alliance system.

But Harry, Harry doesn’t fit into any of them.

And apparently, neither do his friends.

Madam Pomfrey doesn’t let Harry get out of bed, but she does let Morag, Justin, and Hermione all pull over beds so the four can talk and spend time together.

It’s probably the most fun Harry has had since starting at Hogwarts, just talking with his friends.

His true friends.

And he only cries once the entire time.

“Harry, as soon as our six months are up, we want to bond with each other, and with you.”

If Harry ended up crying as his friends pulled him into a group hug, then who can blame him?

________________________________________

September 17, 1991

“Harry,” Percy asks, as he rushes over to Harry as the boy leaves the Great Hall after breakfast. Two people follow behind him, Penny and Oliver.

Harry blushes at the memory of crying into Oliver’s chest.

“Percy, Penny, Heir Apparent Wood,” Harry greets.

Oliver smiles at Harry. “Please Heir Potter, just call me Oliver.”

Harry blushes further when the attractive Keeper smiles at him, especially when Penny and Percy join in the smiling. None of the three are slouches in the looks department. “Well, then please Oliver, just call me Harry. It’s the least I can do.”

“Of course Harry.”

“So, what can I help you three with?”

“We’re actually here to talk about how we can help you,” Penny says. “As you know, the school is working on getting a new Flying Instructor, but the three of us have received permission to create an alternative lesson plan for you, if you would be willing.”

Harry tenses, relaxing a bit Penny lays a supportive hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok Harry, I promise.”

Harry nods. “What are you proposing?”

“Well, we’ve received permission from Headmaster Dumbledore to create a personalized flying class for you,” Percy answers. “Oliver has offered to be the one to teach you, I’ve created the lesson plan, and Penny will be there to heal any injuries and provide safety assurances for you, since she is one of Madam Pomfrey’s top students, even as a fifth year. Marcus Flint has also offered to be there, as a representative of your house.”

Harry frowns. “I mean, that sounds great, but why wouldn’t Marcus just teach me? He is the Quidditch captain for my house. And why are you guys doing this?”

“We originally wanted Marcus to be the one to teach you, but Dumbledore wouldn’t agree,” Oliver says frowning. “But we did get him to agree to Marcus being there, as long as you are comfortable. As for why we are doing … we want to help Harry. If you’ll let us. The fact that someone hates flying so much … it might sound like an overreaction on my part, but that hurts my heart. I want to help you find joy in flying, if I can”

“Doing this will give me extra practice as a healer,” Penny says. “I was going to have to work this entire summer to get the requisite assistant healer hours before I started my NEWT classes, but Madam Pomfrey is letting this count towards that time. Truthfully, you are doing me a favor.”

“And Ginny would kill me if I didn't help,” Percy adds.

Harry laughs, knowing that at least Percy is telling the truth.

“Ok, I guess I agree. When would we be doing this?”

“Thursday nights,” Oliver says. “It’s the only night we all have off. But it’ll take a little more time to get everything set up, so it won’t start until next month.”

Harry nods. “Ok. Thank you guys, really. I didn't know how I was ever going to face that class again. This … this really helps.”

Harry can practically feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders, one he’s been carrying since he first learned about the Flying lessons.

________________________________________

September 18, 1991

Morag and Harry are walking by themselves, taking the long way up to the up towards the Charms classroom to grab Hermione and Justin before heading to lunch.

“So, Padma has decided to stop sitting with us,” Harry notes. “How is that going for you, in Ravenclaw. Are you ok?”

Morag nods. “Yeah, Cho and Penny look after me, so Heiress Li leaves me alone. Lisa actually likes me, for some reason, so she glares a lot at Padma now. It’s kind of funny, even though I don’t know that Padma deserves it.”

“She does,” Harry says. He had high hopes for Padma when he first met her, but she’s now taking the cowardly route. Maybe there’s hope for her later, but Harry certainly doesn’t feel bad for her.

“Yeah, I gue- Harry get down!” Morag yells, pushing Harry to the floor.

“Diffindo!” Draco casts, aiming a cutting curse at Harry, that passes harmlessly over the boy’s head.

Morag rushes back to her feet, quickly pulling her wand out. “Flipendo!”

Draco is knocked several feet back, landing on his ass.

Harry gets up, just as Draco’s three goons pull out their wands and start to move towards Harry.

That is, before a spell is cast at Bulstrode and Goyle, causing the two to break out into an uncontrollable dance.

“Volatilis Lutum,” Harry casts, hitting Crabbe with the spell Ginny taught him how to use in her last letter.

Boogers start to pour out of Crabbe’s nose, before they transform into small bats, attacking the boy’s head. Crabbe screams and runs away, and Goyle and Bulstrode follow once the spell on them breaks, picking up a cursing Draco.

“How the hell did they beat us?” Draco yells as he gets dragged away.

“We read ahead!” Morag shouts after Draco.

Harry bursts into laughter at Morag’s second, prompting the girl to laugh as well.

“Thanks for that dancing spell,” Harry says to Morag, once he finally manages to control his laughter. “They might’ve gotten me without it.”

Morag frowns. “I thought you cast that spell. I didn't.”

Harry blinks before swiveling around, looking for the source of their aid. He sees a bit of chocolate brown hair peeking out around the corner before it quickly disappears.

Pansy.

“Come on,” Morag says. “Let’s go, before they come back.”

Harry nods, picking up his bag before they both rush out of the hall.

Pansy slips into a broom closet, letting the two pass her by.

She breathes a sigh of relief once the two are far enough away. She thought Harry almost saw her for a second.

No one can know about what Pansy just did. Especially not Draco. She can’t let this get back to him.

________________________________________

September 23, 1991

Harry walks into History of Magic, sitting in between Susan and Justin.

Ever since the day of Harry’s flying lesson, Susan has made it a point to sit next to Harry in the classes the two share. And Harry couldn’t push Justin away if he wanted too.

Not that he does. Harry reaches under the table, gripping Justin’s hand. Justin squeezes Harry’s hand in return, easily giving Harry the comfort he needs. Ever since Morag, Justin, and Hermione told Harry that they intended to bond with him and each other, the four have spent practically every waking moment together. And they’ve indulged Harry’s incessant need for physical comfort, since Harry is almost always attached to one of them now. Justin was the most awkward about it at first, still holding the muggle ideals that would insist that the two were both gay and dating just because they were holding hands, but he gave in quickly when he saw how much it helped Harry.

Megan takes the seat next to Susan, smiling at the other three in greeting. Ernie sits with Michael, Hannah, and Rolf at the row behind Harry.

Harry can feel the eyes burrowing into the back of his head from the three, but he pointedly ignores them throughout the entire lesson.

As soon as the lesson is over, Harry hightails it out of the room, with Justin walking right behind him.

“Harry!” Hannah calls out, as her, Michael, and Rolf rush out after Harry. Susan stares at her friends in disbelief, and most of the first year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs are watching Harry for his reaction.

“Langlock tria!” Harry casts, trapping Hannah’s, Michael’s, and Rolf’s tongues to the roof of their mouth.

“You weren’t talking to me before, so why do it now?” Harry sneers at the three, before rushing off. Justin glares at the trio, before quickly following after Harry.

________________________________________

Justin storms into the Hufflepuff common room in a righteous fury.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Justin yells at Michael.

Michael stands up to try to calm Justin down, but Justin pushes Michael back into the couch he was sitting on between Rolf and Hannah before pulling out his wand.

“Adheris tria,” Justin says, casting the sticking charm and gluing the three to the couch.

“No, you are gonna sit there and explain to our house why exactly you three have been such utter assholes for the last few weeks. I thought Harry was supposed to be your friend, but you guys are treating him like this! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Michael?” Cedric asks, storming into the room. “Justin, what did you do?”

Cedric raises his wand to cast “finite” and undo Justin’s charm, but Tonks puts her arm on Cedric’s shoulder.

“No,” Tonks says, completely calm, which absolutely terrifies everyone in the Hufflepuff common room.

Tonks is a bubbly and bright person. 99% of the time.

This is not one of those times.

Cedric gulps, putting his wand down.

“Michael, what is he talking about?”

“He’s been ignoring Harry for weeks!” Justin snaps. “Making Harry feel like shit. I thought you were supposed to be his friend, all three of you! I thought we were in the house of the loyal! I guess not.”

“Is this true?” Tonks asks, still completely calm.

“Yes,” Megan pipes up. “It’s all true.”

Tonks swivels to glare at the three first years. Rolf is wilting under Tonks’ intense stare, but he’s mostly managing to hold his composure. Hannah has tears pouring down her face as she stares down at her lap, too ashamed to show her face. Michael is staring at Cedric, clearly wanting his brother’s help and advice.

“Why?” Tonks asks.

Neither of the three give an answer, prompting Tonks to ask again, more forcibly last time.

“Why? Tell me why three of Harry’s supposed friends would stab him in the back and leave him behind during SOME OF THE WORST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE?”

Michael opens his mouth to answer before sobbing.

“His bag,” Rolf says. “There’s a letter in his bag.”

Cedric grabs Michael’s bag, which Michael tries to protest, but Cedric glares at his brother, which stops Michael.

Cedric rummages through the bag for a few seconds before finding a letter from his stepmother. Cedric starts to read it, resisting the urge to rip the letter in half.

“Dammit Michael,” Cedric curses. “Why didn't you tell me about this?”

“She told me not to,” Michael whispers, so low that no one could make it if the entire common room wasn’t deathly quiet.

“Michael, you can always come to me. We could’ve figured this. I could’ve talk to Catherine and dad and-”

“No!” Michael shouts. “You don’t understand!”

Cedric flinches at Michael’s explosive reaction. He bends down so he’s on Michael’s level as the boy is still stuck to the couch.

“Michael,” Cedric says. “What don’t I understand?”

“She found out about Pansy,” Michael says. “Before we left for Hogwarts. She found out Cedric.”

________________________________________

August 29, 1991

Michael knows his mother planned it like this. She probably found the letter a week ago, back when Michael started packing for Hogwarts. But she waited, until both Amos and Cedric were out of the house.

She waited until they were alone.

“I can’t believe you Michael! I can’t believe you betrayed me like this! What were you thinking, writing back to that Death Eater?”

Michael glares at his mother. “She is not! You don’t even know her! Pansy is not a Death Eater!”

“No, I stand corrected. She’s not a Death Eater. She’s a Death Eater’s whore!”

“She is not! She is my cousin! My famil-”

Michael hears the slap before he feels it, but he does feel it. His face stings as he brings his hand up to clutch his cheek. Tears start to well up in his eyes as he stares up at his mother in disbelief.

“Mom?”

“That girl is not your cousin. Her father is the one who killed your father. She is scum, just like the rest of her family, and you will never speak to her again. Do you hear me?”

Michael just stares at his mother in shock.

“Do you hear me Michael? If you ever talk to her again, I will disown you!”

Michael flinches back in shock.

“Mom?”

“Answer me Michael!”

Michael nods, still clutching his cheek, tears pouring down his face.

He waits until his moth- until Catherine Diggory closes the door behind her before sinking to the ground, covering his mouth to muffle his sobs so she doesn’t hear them.

By the time Cedric and Amos get back a few hours later, everything seems to be back to normal.

But Michael’s cheek still hurts.

________________________________________

“She-” Michael tries to say, before breaking down in Cedric’s arms.

“She yelled at him,” Rolf spits out, his voice venomous. “She slapped him. And then she threatened to disown him if he ever talked to Pansy again. Michael only told Hannah and I, and only after he got the letter from her.”

“He’s been terrified,” Hannah says. “Terrified that she would disown him. That he would lose you. We know it was wrong, what we were doing but … we couldn’t let Michael do it alone. We couldn’t let him be alone.”

“But Harry was alone,” Justin interrupts. “Harry was alone instead.”

Hannah and Rolf both flinch back. Michael would have too, if Cedric didn't have his brother wrapped in a tight hug, even though Michael is still glued to the couch.

“Never,” Cedric says. “You’ll never lose me Michael. Never.”

Michael sobs into Cedric’s shoulder as his brother holds him close.

“Finite,” Justin casts, releasing the three.

Michael practically sinks into Cedric’s arms, and there’s barely a dry eye in the room.

Justin storms out of the common room and Hufflepuff dorms.

“Justin!” Tonks calls out after Justin.

Justin turns to look at Tonks, waiting for her to continue.

“What you did was-”

“I don’t care,” Justin interrupts.

“I was going to say loyal,” Tonks says. “Very loyal. You saw a friend hurting and you took steps to stop it. You are a welcome addition to our house.”

Justin nods.

“Can I just ask, where did you learn how to simultaneously cast more than one of the same spells? That’s usually a second-year topic, and a third-year topic for anything with more than two.”

Justin smiles at Tonks, in a grin that is scarily reminiscent of Harry’s own devilish smirk. “We read ahead.”

Justin turns around, walking off without another word.
________________________________________

September 27, 1991

“I mean, I just can’t believe they allow him in the school,” Ron says to Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati as the group all sits in the common room together. “I mean, come on. He’s a bloody obscurial. He’s gonna get us all killed.”

Hermione bristles, and Fay almost runs into Hermione’s back. They two girls had been walking back from the library together and had just gotten back to the common room, only to find the least intelligent of the first years all gathered together telling shitty stories.

“Do it quickly,” Fay whispers to Hermione. “There’s almost no one in the common room. And Oliver and Percy won’t say anything.”

Hermione turns to find Oliver and Percy are the only upper years in the common room, with both glaring at Percy’s younger brother. Percy is about halfway out of his chair anyways.

Besides that, there are only a couple of second and third years, mostly ignoring Ron and his idiocy.

“Unless he gets himself killed first. Which might just be a blessing at this point. I mean, if he’s really a danger to us all, then maybe that would be for the bes-”

“Petrificus Totalus,” Hermione casts, freezing Ron in his place before following the curse with “Furnunculus” , causing pimples to erupt on his face.

“Have you ever heard of the muggle expression ‘talk shit, get hit’?” Hermione ask the frozen boy and his friends. “You are really really asking to get hit.”

“But those are second year spells!” Parvati exclaims in shock.

Hermione glares at the girl before turning her attention back to the group as a whole, staring at all of them with contempt. “We read ahead.”

Chapter Text

October 6, 1991

“I still can’t believe how many empty classrooms there are in this castle,” Justin muses aloud as he sits at the table in Harry’s library trunk with Hermione.

“It makes sense,” Hermione says. “There used to be a lot more classes. Healing had its own classroom instead of being a specialized subject taught by just Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary. There was also warding, enchanting, alchemy, and that’s not even mentioning other specialized classes, such as history classes on more specific criteria and even different languages.”

“Why aren’t they taught now?” Justin asks.

“Officially, there wasn’t enough demand.”

“So bureaucracy,” Justin says. “Got it.”

Morag and Harry laugh at their two friends as they lay on one of the bigger chairs in the trunk. Harry is spread out length ways along the chair, with Morag sitting in between his legs, leaning against him. Morag has always been the most open to Harry’s clinginess, likely because she suffers from the same touch-starvation that he does, if not as badly.

Morag and Harry both have their noses deep in their books, reviewing for tomorrow’s Charms lesson.

“Well, at least it works for us,” Harry says as he flips a page. “I mean, we’ve pretty much claimed this classroom and because the room is never used, I feel comfortable setting up the trunk so we can all study in here together.”

For the last two weeks or so, the group has mostly moved out of meeting for study groups in the library. They still go to the library of course, to pick up books and meet with Susan for etiquette and culture lessons, but Harry’s trunk allows for a much more personalized learning space.

“Yeah, but only because you have that nifty key,” Morag answers. “I mean, even Hermione’s Alohomora didn't break the lock on that door, but your key did.”

Justin and Hermione nod in agreement.

“Yeah, there are plenty of empty classrooms that are more accessible, but this one we pretty much get to keep to ourselves,” Justin agrees.

Harry nods. “Yep. I have to admit, when my Jacob gave me the key, I didn't know what I was going to do with it. But it’s turning out to be pretty useful.”

“I’ll say,” Hermione says. “But are we sure it’s legal?”

“It’s a family heirloom so probably,” Morag answers. “You know how purebloods get about their precious and rare items. Uptight bastards.”

Justin and Harry both laugh and even Hermione giggles while shaking her head at Morag.

The last few weeks have been interesting for the four of them, to say the least.

At first it wasn’t so bad, everyone just assumed they were friends bonding together because of their shared backgrounds. Some Slytherins tried to give Harry a hard time, but after Morag and Harry took down Malfoy and his goons, no one in his year was willing to physically confront him, and Harry stayed him in the private dorms whenever he was in the Slytherin dorms, so he didn't even have to associate with the upper years.

But then, it became clear that the four were more than just friends. They were their own miniature political alliance within the first years, completely separate from the Light Alliance.

There hasn’t been a muggleborn that has broken away from the Light Alliance while at Hogwarts for … well as long as anyone can remember. Three muggleborns and a muggle-raised Light Heir striking out on their own was certainly noteworthy, even in the upper years.

Harry’s position became even more nuanced. Some people that hated him weeks ago for being associated with the Light seem to have settled for quiet disdain or disinterest, while others that left him alone have begun to whisper cruel slurs about Harry’s friends whenever the boy was around, expecting the young heir to rise to the bait.

He didn't, but Harry did remember their names. Just in case.

Morag’s situation was just as tricky as Harry’s. Cho continued to support Morag, but the girl is only able to do so much now that Morag has “forsaken the Light Alliance” along with the rest of the group. And on top of that, Su Li, Terry Boot, and Michael Corner were being more openly hostile to the girl, and she no longer had Padma’s support. Morag mostly stuck to Lisa Turpin and Anthony Goldstein in her year as a result, and Penny Clearwater and Heir Apparent Roger Davies of the Ancient House Davies, a third year whose family was a part of the Grey Alliance.

It wasn’t unnoticed by the group that Morag’s biggest supporters were from the Grey Alliance, but they decided to not ruffle more feathers by declaring for an Alliance, at least not until it became necessary to do so. Or beneficial enough for them to reconsider.

Hermione’s situation was also volatile. The only Gryffindors in her year that Hermione could stand were Neville Longbottom and Fay Dunbar, who seem to have formed their own partnership separate from Charles’ and Ron’s group of sycophants. Hermione, like Morag, spent practically her entire free time outside of her house’s dorms and common room, returning slightly before curfew and leaving as early as possible. They even kept a decent amount of their things in Harry’s library trunk for safe-keeping and ease, since they were almost always with the boy.

Justin was a unique case. He has received the least resistance from his house because of his alignment, but he still has people within his year that he would rather not associate with. Zacharias Smith is a sycophant who follows his father’s orders and desires only political power. He clearly detests Justin, but Zacharias mostly leaves him alone (which Harry suspects is on Daphne’s orders, but he has no proof). Ernie is another Charles Potter follower, though he’s not quite as obvious as many of the Gryffindors. Justin still detests Michael, Rolf, and Hannah, so he mostly associates with Susan and Megan, both of whom are friends with the entire group, even though Megan’s obvious flirting makes Harry a bit uncomfortable at times.

“We need to learn the Protego spell,” Harry says once he finishes reading the next chapter they are covering in Charms. “Morag and I are still the only ones proficient enough with dodging to even consider not learning the spell, and we should both still learn it anyway.”

Morag pouts at Harry as Justin and Hermione both nod in agreement. They both know it to be true.

Harry is the most agile out of the group, not that he’ll explain why for a while. “Harry Hunting” is still a particularly painful memory for him, even if it did have an interesting conclusion.

And Morag, while also being the second most agile of the group, seems to have a sixth sense about spells coming her way that the rest of the group can’t seem to match.

Justin called it her “Spidey Sense” once, until she threw a book at him and insisted that DC was better than Marvel, leading to a debate that lasted four hours and ended with Hedwig pooping on all four of them so they would shut up.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” Hermione says. “I’m still exhausted from finally getting Wingardium Leviosa down.”

Harry, Morag, and Justin all nod in agreement, but mastering that spell had been crucial. Or at least, he had been once Justin realized the multitude of uses for said spell.

________________________________________

October 10, 1991

“Don’t,” Harry snaps when he sees Michael and Hannah walk towards him and Justin after their Transfiguration class. “Just don’t! Not today.”

Michael winces at the rebuke and Hannah actually whimpers. Rolf at least seems to have enough common sense to realize that Harry won’t be willing to forgive him anytime soon.

“Do you even know what today is for me?” Harry asks the two. “It’s my first Flying lesson in almost a month and we all know how the last one went, so don’t test me.”

“Harry,” Susan says, approaching the group. “May I mediate?”

Harry stares at Susan for a few seconds before turning to Justin. Justin looks considerate for a second before nodding.

“Thank you Harry,” Susan says. “Michael, Hannah, do you both acknowledge that what you did was wrong and hurt Harry?”

“Heir Potter,” Harry says. “They can refer to me as Heir Potter. Heir Apparent Scamander too.”

Michael and Hannah both have tears in their eyes, and Rolf winces slightly before nodding.

“Very well,” Susan continues, after faltering for a moment after Harry’s correction. “Michael, Hannah, please answer the question.”

“Of course we do,” Hannah protests, before turning to Harry. “Of course we do Ha-Heir Potter. Merlin, I’m so so sorry. I behaved like a fool, and I didn't even have a proper reason, unlike-”

“No one,” Justin interrupts, glancing at Michael. “Not unlike Michael. What you did … there’s no excuse for that.”

Rolf opens his mouth to protest and almost all of the gathered Hufflepuffs seem to disagree with Justin’s assessment, before Harry steps up, grabbing Justin’s hand and wrapping his finger’s with his friends as he clings to Justin for support.

“Justin is right,” Harry says, before turning to Michael with tears in his eyes. “I am truly sorry for what happened to you Michael. I would never wish that upon anyone in a million years. I am truly truly sorry.”

Everyone winces at the implications behind Harry’s word and Justin removes his hand from Harry’s only to quickly wrap his arm around Harry’s waist, pulling the smaller boy closer.

“But that doesn’t excuse what you did,” Harry says, struggling to keep his voice from cracking.

A part of Harry wants to just forgive Michael right there. He wants to break away from Justin’s comforting hold and grab Michael and hug him until his former friend stops crying. He wants to forgive Michael for his past mistakes and move on and have his friend back.

But Harry … he can’t do that. Maybe, with time but not now. Not when everything is still so fresh. So painful.

“I just can’t forgive you,” Harry says. “I can’t …”

Justin looks at Harry questioningly, but Harry just shakes his head.

Justin nods, letting Harry rest his head on Justin’s shoulder.

“Susan, I believe we are done here,” Justin says. “Thank you for attempting to mediate.”

Susan nods. “Of course. Harry, I offer you my well wishes during your lesson today.”

Harry nods, knowing he won’t be able to croak out a half decent verbal response. He lifts his face to look up at Susan, smiling at her a bit before burying his face again as tears start to form again. Susan really doesn’t need to see him cry.

Susan smiles at Harry, laying a supportive hand on his shoulder for a moment that helps Harry sink deeper into Justin’s embrace, before she starts to drag the rest of the hufflepuffs towards the Great Hall for lunch.

Harry buries his face in the crook of Justin’s face, letting a few tears slip down his face.

“It’s ok Harry,” Justin says. “I know, it's hard to say no. But it’s what’s best for now. If you forgive them, especially this quickly, you’ll never be able to trust them again. Not fully. Maybe with time, they’ll regain your trust.”

Harry nods, his face still hidden. “It’s hard. They were my first friends,” is Harry’s muffled response.

Justin strokes Harry’s hair with one hand while hugging his friend with the other. “I know Harry. I know.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me Harry. This is what friends are for. This is what true friends are for.”

When Morag and Hermione find their two male friends hugging in the hallway a few minutes later, they quickly join in, smushing Harry between all of them.

Harry laughs as he wiggles and tries to escape their hold before finally giving in and relaxing against them.

“I love you guys,” Harry mumbles, getting smooshed by the three even more in response.

________________________________________

Harry takes a deep breath as he walks towards the entrance to the courtyard, where Harry was told to meet Percy.

Morag and Justin have Harry in between them as they walk with the boy. Unlike Hermione, neither of them has afternoon lessons and they both intend to be here for Harry, every step of the way.

The trio find Percy and Penny waiting for them, and they all smile in greeting.

If anyone notices Harry’s weak smile and shakiness before Morag attaches herself to Harry’s side, they don’t comment on it.

“Are we going to the Quidditch pitch?” Justin asks.

Percy shakes her head. “No. There’s some flat land out by the caretaker’s, or Hagrid’s, hut. We figured it was best to start somewhere new. Besides, the other Gryffindors and Slytherins are using the Quidditch pitch for their lessons.”

Harry smiles at Percy and Penny gratefully.

Percy and Penny lead them as Morag and Justin continue to help Harry as his heart starts to pound the closer they get to the lesson.

Penny and Percy glance back at the group a few times, but don’t say anything, not wanting to bring attention to Harry’s nerves and embarrass the boy.

Eventually they get to a clearing, and Harry can make out Oliver and Marcus waiting for them, a handful of brooms laying on the ground.

“Hi Harry,” Oliver greets.

“Oliver,” Harry greets politely. “Heir Apparent Flint.”

Oliver beams when he sees the group, smiling at Percy and Penny in particular, much to the trio of first-year’s amusement.

Marcus nods in response, before stepping back and allowing Oliver to take over the lesson. As much as he resents it, Oliver is the instructor and Marcus is just here to assist and be present as a member of Harry’s house.

Percy and Penny lay a blanket out on the grass, inviting Justin and Morag to sit with them as they begin the lesson. Harry passes his library trunk to Morag for safe keeping as he steps closer to Oliver and lets the boy start the lesson.

Harry turns back to the brooms, a panicked look coming over his face.

Oliver is quick to move closer to Harry, in between the boy and the brooms.

“Harry,” Oliver says, trying to coax the boy from his impending panic attack. “It’s ok Harry. It’s ok Harry.”

Oliver pulls the boy into a side hug, trying to comfort Harry.

Harry relaxes marginally before Oliver reaches to grab one of the brooms.

“Let’s sit,” Oliver says, helping Harry to the ground, the broom still clutched in his hand.

Oliver pulls Harry against him, an arm still wrapped around the frightened boy.

“We’re not even gonna put you on the broom today,” Oliver says soothingly. “I promise.”

Harry looks confused but just nods, catching his breath and nodding.

“Here,” Oliver says, handing Harry the broomstick. “Today, I just want you to hold the broom. Nothing more. And I’ll be right here the entire time. Morag and Justin are here. Percy and Penny are here. Even Marcus is here, all for you. Ok?”

“Promise?” Harry asks, his voice so quiet that Penny almost cries at the sound.

But Oliver just smiles at the boy. “I promise.”

Harry nods, reaching over and taking the broom from Oliver before he can think about it. He stiffens, but slowly relaxes when Oliver pulls him even closer.

“That was amazing Harry,” Oliver says after a few minutes. “Are you sure you aren’t Gryffindor?”

Harry looks horrified at the statement and Marcus scoffs. “Leave my house’s first years alone Oliver. Harry is the perfect Slytherin.”

Harry looks surprised at Marcus’ statement, turning to the Quidditch captain with a look of confusion on his face before smiling at Marcus.

Marcus is taken back by Harry’s reaction, before shyly smiling in return.

Penny giggles at the interaction and even Oliver and Percy both chuckle before Marcus sneers at them. But Harry catches everyone in the group smiling and teasing Marcus for it throughout the next few hours.

The rest of the lesson is spent with the seven gathered students chatting. Harry mostly stays quiet, focusing on the broom in his hands, but he still participates in the conversation much to everyone’s delight.

Morag and Justin end up pulling out Harry’s library trunk halfway through the lesson, and Percy and Penny are quick to investigate the most expensive library trunk on the market. Marcus looks conflicted for a few seconds, before he decides to investigate as well. His momma was considering getting the library trunk similar to this one for his mom, and he wants to know if Juniper Flint will be satisfied with the gift.

Or at least that’s his excuse. It takes only one glance and a small gesture to join her from Penny for Marcus to go rushing over to the entrance, following after them.

“So, what’s it like to like three people at once?” Harry asks Oliver. “Because I’m there, doing that, but at least none of mine are dating each other.”

Oliver looks shocked at Harry’s statement, tensing a bit before forcing himself to relax so he doesn’t add stress to Harry, who still has the broom clutched tightly in his hands.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t lie,” Harry laughs. “I won’t believe you.”

“Am I that obvious?”

Harry laughs again. Truthfully, all of them are that obvious.

“No,” Harry lies. “I’m just that good.”

Oliver rolls his eyes, messing with Harry’s hair to annoy the boy.

“Oh, how mature,” Harry teases. “But seriously, what is it like? Does anyone even know?”

Oliver nods. “Yeah, some of my teammates, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnett, and Katie Bell.”

“Ah yes, the Gryffindor Chasers.”

“You know about that?”

“Everyone knows about the Gryffindor Chasers,” Harry answers. “Even people who try to avoid all conversation about Quidditch.”

Oliver laughs. “Glad to know that we have a reputation.”

“I said they have a reputation, not you.”

Oliver blushes at the slight as Harry laughs again.

“Rude.”

“Well, I am a Slytherin. But in all seriousness, it’s good that they know. It must be hard, with Percy being your best friend and roommate. He must be the person you want to tell the most but …”

Oliver nods. “Yeah. It’s not been easy. I tried to pull away from Percy a bit back when he started dating Penny, just to give the couple their space.”

Harry snorts. “I’m sure that went well.”

“I’m surprised he didn't curse me.”

“Just wait until Ginny gets a wand. That’s when you’ll get cursed.”

Oliver pales, leading to Harry laughing again.

“Not funny.”

“Kind of is.”

“Yeah I guess.”

“And what about Heir Apparent Flint? You guys are basically direct rivals but you seem almost … friendly. Plus you look at him too long sometimes, especially when he smiles.”

“Marcus is great,” Oliver says. “He’s just like Percy and Penny in a lot of ways. He’s dedicated … very driven. He is the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts, besides myself. Penny will be one of the best healers the world has ever seen by the time she finishes her mastery and Percy is … Percy doesn't even know what he wants to do yet, but he will be incredible at it, no matter what.”

“Wow, you are crushing really hard.”

Oliver frowns. “Yeah, I guess I am. But what about you?”

Harry blushes. “I was hoping I would forget about that.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Probably,” Harry says.

“Aren’t you gonna tell me?”

“Of course not, you didn't tell me.”

“That’s not fair,” Oliver pouts

“It’s extremely fair,” Harry says. “It’s the definition of fair. Figure it out and then we can talk about it.”

“Are they at least in your year? I don’t know how I feel about you crushing on an older boy or girl, and I know Percy won’t like it.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Merlin, there are so many of you.”

“So many of what?”

“Protective older students,” Harry answers. “And yes, they are all in my year. A girl and two guys, just like you.”

“Ok, so what’s stopping you? Besides the fact that you can’t choose between them and you don’t know if they would be down for being all together.”

Harry blushes and sputters, taking a few moments to calm down from that imagery. “With one of them … it’s really really complicated. And the other two, it’s the same reason but opposite ends of the spectrum.”

“Ahh, politics.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, politics.”

Harry stops talking after that, clearly deep in thought, before he starts to relax even further against Oliver, slipping off into a restless sleep, with the broom still clutched in his hand.

Oliver runs his fingers through the boy’s messy hair, trying to calm Harry in his sleep. It proves to at least be somewhat effective, so Oliver continues to do it.

Oliver can’t help but be impressed with the boy before him. It’s clear that he’s led a tough life with more trauma than anyone should ever have to face. And he still faces adversity in the halls of Hogwarts.

But he hasn’t let that stop him. If anything, Harry is thriving. With Morag, Hermione, and Justin, the new group has become a formidable academic force, completely blowing past the usual struggles that muggleborns have during their first.

Their little group is one of the most unique things Oliver has ever seen. At first he, like everyone else, thought they came together out of mutual interest and maybe that’s still true. But it’s like the four of them have rushed through the initial stages of friendship and have landed in a place most friends only get after knowing each other for years.

It reminds Oliver of the friendship he has with Percy, and the two have been bonded for over a year. Oliver has no doubt that bondings are in all of their futures.

But what makes the little group different is the way they all give each other exactly what they need.

Hermione is clearly a bright witch, perhaps the brightest in her year and definitely the brightest in all of Gryffindor. Harry, Morag, and Justin encourage Hermione to relax a little and to really enjoy magic and the new world they are a part of instead of just study it.

Justin has a similar problem. He was just a bit too uptight at first. Oliver supposes it makes sense, apparently Justin is titled in the muggle world. But Morag, Hermione, and Harry encourage the boy to let loose just a bit and do what he wants and not just what is expected of him.

Morag and Harry honestly have the opposite problem from the other two. They are both smart, brave, open to new experiences, and perfectly willing to speak their minds. Morag’s sorting and Harry destroying a howler are just a few of the examples that come to mind. Hermione and Justin encourage their friends to be a little less reactive and use the intelligence and cunning that both Harry and Morag have in spades.

The group so perfectly balances out and Oliver can see them doing incredible things in the coming years.

But Oliver thinks a lot of that credit should go to Harry, the boy who never takes the easy path. He could have played the good little Potter Heir, been sorted into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, and lived an easy life with friends and the possibility of reconnecting with his family.

But Harry didn't do that. He stayed true to himself, even when most people would falter. He took the most difficult path because it was the path that was so uniquely Harry, and he continues down that path every day without hesitation, despite the many blunders.

Oliver can’t rightly explain the reason why he’s so protective of Harry. He could say it’s because Harry is fragile and has been hurt in the path, but Harry is far from fragile. If he was, Harry would have been broken a long time ago.

But still Oliver feels a pull to protect Harry, to swaddle him in blankets and hide him from the cruel world.

And he knows he’s not the only one. Percy and Penny have both vocalized similar thoughts to him, and Cedric and Tonks from Hufflepuff are both quick to check on the boy every time they see him. Even Marcus is clearly a little protective of the boy, despite having spent almost no time with Harry.

Harry snuggles closer to Oliver, bringing the broom with him.

Oliver just smiles down at the boy.

“I think it worked,” Percy says, coming out of the library trunk with Penny and Marcus.

“What worked?” Oliver asks.

“The broom,” Marcus answers for Percy. “It was a good idea Oliver.”

“A really good idea,” Penny agrees, smiling at Oliver.

Oliver blushes. “Yeah. It’s just a first step, but I think we can do it. I think we can help Harry get over his fear.”

“Not too well though,” Marcus answers. “Or else he’ll end up helping me wipe the floor with your team out on the pitch.”

Penny laughs and Percy rolls his eyes.

“I doubt that,” Oliver says. “My chasers are too good.”

Marcus sneers at Oliver, though it’s clearly in good fun as there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

________________________________________

October 13, 1991

“Did you know they call us the ‘readers’?” Justin asks.

“I knew that catchphrase would come back to bite us in the ass,” Harry groans. “Why did I let you guys come up with the catchphrase again?”

“Why do we even have a catchphrase?” Hermione asks.

“Hermione, you started all this so don’t play innocent,” Morag says. “And Harry, you were in the infirmary, so we took creative liberties. Sorry not sorry.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You could have waited for me.”

“Are you really that upset by it?” Justin asks.

“Oh, of course not. I just love to complain.”

Now it’s Morag’s turn to roll her eyes as Hermione groans loudly and Justin just laughs.

“Idiot,” Morag says, pushing Harry out of the chair they are sharing.

Harry falls out, laughing the entire way before climbing back onto the chair, much to Morag’s annoyance.

“So, what’s the plan today?” Morag asks. “I know we still have to get protego down, but after yesterday I’m exhausted.”

“Then we’ll wait an hour before starting,” Harry says.

Justin and Morag groan, but Hermione seems excited by the prospect. She always is when it comes to learning or mastering a new spell. Plus, she’s the person who needs to learn it the most, being the least agile of the group and living in the Gryffindor tower with Charles, Ron, and the rest of the idiots.

“You are a slavedriver Potter.”

“Thanks MacDougal. I try my best.”

Justin and Hermione roll their eyes.

“Oh Justin, have you decided yet?” Hermione asks.

Morag and Harry stop bickering to stare at Justin.

Earlier in the month, they gave Justin an assignment, since he is the most politically minded of the group along with Harry but without Harry’s biases.

Today is the second Sunday of October, which means another day of Alliance meetings. Another day where they are some of the only students not in attendance at one of the three meetings.

The group of “readers” is doing fine for themselves now. But they have first year anonymity. Next year, they won’t have that.

It is very likely that the group will need support. More than they get from just having a friendship with Susan and a few upper years.

Justin sighs before nodding.

“As I’m sure all of us can guess, the Dark Alliance is out. Hermione and I would be completely out of place there, and they would pretty much hate all four of us. Morag and Harry might be able to work past it-”

Morag and Harry share devilish smirks before Hermione snaps her fingers, getting their attention.

“-but that’s not really a good foundation for either of you. You would still have to work past a lot of prejudice.”

“Plus, we only have two people that we know who are even slightly friendly from the Dark Alliance, and one of them isn’t even friendly to all of us or Harry in public,” Hermione says.

Harry frowns at Hermione, wanting to defend his roommate, but he just keeps quiet.

“Yeah, and Lisa isn’t the most popular in the Dark Alliance either,” Morag adds. “Her views are a bit too … liberal for them. Honestly, I don’t know why her family’s not a part of the Grey Alliance. I mean, I do, but it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“So it’s out,” Harry says. “Let me guess, the Light Alliance is out?”

“Essentially,” Justin says. “Harry and Hermione have alienated people from a number of Houses in that Alliance. Minor Noble House of Weasley, the Ancient and Noble House of Brown, the Ancient and Noble House of Macmillan, the Noble House of Prewett since Lady Weasley holds the Proxy for that House, the Aged House of Patil, the Minor Noble House of Finnegan, and even the Ancient and Noble House of McLaggen.”

Hermione and Harry both smirk at the memory.

“Guys, it’s not funny,” Justin says, rolling his eyes at his friends.

“But we had nothing to do with Heir Apparent McLaggen slipping and falling down the stairs,” Harry says.

“You levitated a bucket onto his head and then pulled his pants down as he was on the top step,” Justin says.

“You have absolutely no proof,” Hermione says. “And neither does McLaggen.”

“I so wish I could have been there,” Morag says. “McLaggen is such a perv. Even Megan won’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.”

“He deserved it Justin,” Harry says, more seriously than before. “We all know he did.”

Justin’s face falters before he sighs and nods. “Yeah, of course he did. What he said to you Hermione … he’s disgusting. But he is still the Heir Apparent to an important House and we all made an enemy out of him.”

“We know Justin,” Morag says. “But it had to be done.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Can we move on?” Hermione says. She clearly wants to move on from talking about the guy that harassed her for a few days before he learned a lesson, and none of the group wants to deny her.

“But we still have friends from Houses in the Light Alliance.”

“Well, we did,” Harry says. “Justin and I have burned a few of those bridges.”

Harry doubts the Abbotts, Diggorys, or Scamanders would help him now. And even the Longbottoms since Harry has barely gotten the chance to spend time with Neville.

“We still have the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones and the Noble House of Wood,” Justin says.

“What about Megan’s and Fay’s Houses?” Morag asks. “We are friends with both of them.”

Hermione shakes her head. “Fay has absolutely no power in her House and they won’t go against the other Houses that are upset with us.”

“And Megan’s House is a Minor Noble one, and she’s in a similar position to Fay,” Justin answers. “And while the Houses of Bones and Wood are both powerful within the Alliance, it’s not enough. If Harry had even one of his parents’ support, I would say we would be fine, but truthfully what we do have is only enough for Harry and myself in the Alliance. Hermione has burnt too many bridges and isn’t titled, and Morag, you are a Ravenclaw and an outspoken one at that.”

“So, the Grey Alliance?” Hermione guesses.

Harry groans. “I knew it would come to this. Want me to take this Justin?”

Justin nods. “Yes please. You know more than I do.”

“The Grey Alliance consists of ten Houses who have seats on Wizengamot. A few Aged or Minor Noble Houses too, such as the Aged House of Zabini, but they hold little power in the alliance since the Grey Alliance so rarely gets the elected seats.”

Hermione blinks. “That’s very different from the other alliances. They still treat the Aged and Minor Noble Houses as valued members, if not lesser in the case of the Dark Alliance.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot different. The Grey Alliance is tiny. Very tiny. They are headed by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. Which means that Daphne is technically the most titled person from that Alliance in the entire school. Tracey also attends the meetings, since her duty is first to the House that she is a ward of and then to the House she was born into.”

Morag, Justin, and Harry all frown at Harry, who stares at them in confusion.

“What?”

“When did you start calling them Daphne and Tracey again?” Justin asks.

“Yeah, what the hell is up with that?” Morag questions.

Harry blushes. “Force of habit, I guess. And I mean … they’re trying. I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Harry’s three friends all exchange glances before nodding, letting Harry continue.

“Now, after the Greengrasses, you have what I’m going to call the core of the Grey Alliance, the Dark leaning, and the Light leaning. The rest of the Core Alliance consists of the Ancient and Noble House of Flint, the Noble House of Fawley, the Ancient House of Davies, and the Ancient House of Shafiq. Of those Houses, three of them have Heir Apparents at Hogwarts. Heir Apparent Marcus Flint, the fifth year Slytherin Quidditch captain of course. Heir Apparent Gemma Fawley is a sixth year Slytherin prefect. And Heir Apparent Roger Davies is a fourth year ravenclaw. I believe that Marcus is the one leading the Alliance meetings right now, along with help from Gemma Fawley and sometimes Daphne.”

“The Light leaning families are the Ancient and Noble House of Clearwater, the Noble House of Lovegood, and the Ancient House of Edgecomb. Of those three, only two of the Houses have heirs at Hogwarts. Penny is the Heir Apparent for the House of Clearwater, and Heiress Marietta Edgecomb is a second year ravenclaw.”

Morag nods. “Yeah, I haven’t talked to her much, but I know she’s friends with Cho.”

“Makes sense,” Harry says. “From what I can tell, the Noble House of Chang was a part of the Grey Alliance until a few years ago. Marietta and Cho probably grew up together.”

“The Dark leaning only consists of two families. The Ancient House of Slughorn, which has no heirs in the school, and the Ancient House of Smith.”

Justin sneers. “Zacharias. What a tool.”

“One we are going to have to deal with,” Hermione says.

Justin looks very displeased with that idea, but nods in agreement.

“So essentially, we have a couple of in-roads with Houses from the Grey Alliance and the only potential point of disagreement is between Zacharias and Justin,” Morag sums up.

“Essentially,” Harry says. “Daphne and Tracey have both been trying to get back into my good graces, you get along with Roger Davies, and we all get along with Marcus and Penny.”

“You get along with Marcus,” Hermione disagrees.

“Yeah yeah,” Harry waves off. “That’s just House rivalry talking.”

Hermione glares at Harry but doesn’t argue further.

“It’s our best bet,” Justin says. “But we all know that the four of us showing up at any Alliance meeting that’s not the Light Alliance is going to be big news. I mean, three muggleborns and Light Heir, who also happens to be the twin of the boy-who-lived. That’s a big deal.”

“But we can use it,” Harry says. “We can leverage that. Show the Grey Alliance that by accepting us, they can be seen as more open to new members.”

Justin ponders it for a second before nodding. “It could work. But we need to reach out before we make any big plans.”

“Ok, so I’ll talk to Penny-”

“No,” Harry interrupts. “It needs to be someone more neutral. Someone without a lot of biases. And there’s only one person left at Hogwarts that fits that criteria.”

________________________________________

“What is this about?” Gemma asks Harry and Morag. All she knows is that she received a letter from Harry asking to meet right after the Grey Alliance meeting ended, courtesy of Harry’s very noticeable snowy owl.

“We are considering some options,” Harry answers.

Gemma stiffens, before nodding.

Smart. Good on Harry, only bringing Morag to this meeting, but Gemma knows it's regarding all four of the “readers”.

“You want to join the Grey Alliance,” Gemma says.

“Oh no,” Morag says. “You want us to join the Grey Alliance.”

Gemma sneers at the two. “And why would we want that?”

“Do you want the Noble House of Chang back? Do you want a stronger hold on the Ancient and Noble House of Clearwater and the other Light leaning Houses? Do you want to open a dialogue with some more … neutral Houses in the Light Alliance? Well, if you do, then you need us,” Harry says.

“Three muggleborns and the twin of the boy-who-lived,” Morag continues. “If you want to be seen as more open and pull support away from the Light as a result, then we are the best way to do it.”

Gemma continues to sneer at the pair, even if she is inwardly impressed.

Gemma isn’t stupid. She knows that Adrian Greengrass has plans to use Harry to chip away at the Light Alliance. To pull the Changs back, and other families like the Abbotts into the fold. Maybe even the Bones, whose Heir Apparent is good friends with Harry.

“What do you need from me?”

Morag and Harry smile at each other. “Well, if you’re asking …”

________________________________________

October 16, 1991

As soon as Pansy sees Harry on her way to Astronomy, she knows it’s not an accident.

“Hello Heiress Parkinson,” Harry greets. “Mind if I walk with you?”

“Not at all Heir Potter,” Pansy says, inwardly seething. She left her Astronomy book in the common room last night and couldn’t find it this morning. At least, not until Heir Apparent Fawley handed it to her before rushing her off to class.

Obviously just in time to run straight into Harry. Pansy is mildly curious as to how Harry got the sixth-year prefect to do his bidding, but she’s more just annoyed with the fact that Harry got a sixth-year prefect to do his bidding and he used it to have a private conversation with her.

“I was wondering, Heiress Parkinson, how you gained such impeccable aim? Did your family perhaps teach you?”

Pansy bites on her bottom lip to keep from glaring at the boy. “I have no earthly idea what you are talking about Heir Potter.”

“Of course not,” Harry says. “Though, I must inform you that you have satisfied whatever familial obligation you have. It is no longer wanted nor needed.”

Pansy looks up at Harry, only to find him sneering.

“I have cut ties with the person who forced you into that obligation, and you performed admirably already. I need no further help.”

Pansy nods “Of course Heir Potter. Thank you for informing me. I should be on my way.”

“Of course, there is the matter of your secret,” Harry says before Pansy can walk away. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want the fact that you cursed Bulstrode and Goyle to get out.”

Pansy pales, before turning around to face Harry. “What do you want?”

Harry’s smirk falters. “Going straight in I see. I don’t want much, or at least it doesn’t seem like much to me. But it might be for you.”

Pansy frowns, but gestures for Harry continue.

“I know you and Mr. Thorne-Diggory are cousins,” Harry says. “It’s pretty obvious once you’ve spent enough time with both of you. I also know something about Mr. Thorne-Diggory’s mother that you don’t. Something you need to know.”

“What is it?”

“Not my place,” Harry says. “Speak to him about it. But my request is that you listen to Mic- Mr. Thorne-Diggory. And then I humbly ask that you request that your father, Lord Parkinson, take over custody of Mr. Thorne-Diggory.”

Pansy flinches back in shock. “What?”

“I humbly as-”

“I heard you,” Pansy says. “But Michael, his family is Light. And my family, we are Dark.”

Harry sneers again. “There is nothing Light about Lady Diggory. I assure you.”

Pansy pales before nodding. “I will listen to what Michael has to say and reach out to my father if I find it appropriate. Is that sufficient, Heir Potter?”

“Of course,” Harry says. “Now, I’ll be off. I suggest that you wait a few minutes, so you don’t walk into Astronomy at the same time as me. Have a good night, Heiress Parkinson.”

“You too, Heir Potter,” Pansy says, watching as the boy walks away.

Pansy doesn’t really understand Harry. He obviously called in a favor with Heir Apparent Fawley just so he could meet with Pansy privately, where he blackmailed the girl, and in return all he wanted was to pass along information that Pansy needed and to persuade Pansy to help her cousin.

Harry used a favor and a solid piece of blackmail, all to help someone he is no longer friends with.

“Oh Michael, what did you do? Why did you lose him?”

________________________________________

October 17, 1991

Theo wakes up to screaming.

He rushes out of bed, almost falling when he jumps down, before crossing the room to Harry’s side.

Hedwig is already awake, having flown down from her owl stand to land on Harry’s pillow.

“Shh,” Theo says, trying to soothe Harry back to sleep. “It’s ok. It’s ok Heir Potter. You aren’t flying. You are safe.”

Harry twists and turns in his bed, tears pouring down his face.

Hedwig chirps along with Theo as the boy continues to whisper soothing words to Harry, while running his fingers through Harry’s hair.

It doesn’t have an immediate effect, but eventually Harry starts to calm down before completely relaxing again and drifting back off into peaceful sleep.

Theo cards his fingers through Harry’s hair one last time before going back to his own bed and falling asleep, knowing that Harry won’t wake up for the rest of the night. Harry only has nightmares that bad on Thursdays because that’s when the Flying lessons take place. But at least it's only one nightmare for the night.

Theo doesn’t know if he could handle seeing Harry cry multiple times a night. One is more than enough.

________________________________________

October 27, 1991

Dear Heiress Greengrass,

We wish to express our collective interest in possibly attending the next Grey Alliance meeting on Sunday, November 10th in a temporary capacity. We hope that we will be welcomed.

Signed,

Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter
Mr. Justin Finch-Fletchley
Miss Morag MacDougal
Miss Hermione Granger

Daphne stares at the letter in shock. She was wondering why Harry wasn’t at breakfast.

“Thank Merlin,” Daphne whispers, quiet enough so only Tracey can hear.

Tracey takes the letter from Daphne, reading it over. She is smiling by the time she finishes the letter.

Even Daphne is smiling. She didn't ruin it. She can still fix this. It might not happen anytime soon, but she can still fix what she broke.

“Tell him I said thank you,” Daphne says to Harry’s owl, giving the pretty bird a sizable helping of bacon.

Hedwig gives Daphne a scrutinizing look before nodding, flying off.

________________________________________

October 31, 1991

“Thanks, you guys,” Harry says to his friends. “I just … I really didn't want to celebrate the day I almost died and didn't just because my brother pulled off some impossible magic.”

Morag, Hermione, and Justin all nod.

“We get it Harry,” Morag says. “And we are happy to stay with you.”

They all know how hard this day is for Harry. That Halloween certainly wasn’t the worst day of his life, but today is still a celebration of the day that led to his worst days.

Without that fateful Halloween night over a decade ago, Charles wouldn’t have been declared the boy-who-lived, and the Potters wouldn’t have been so quick to call Harry a squib and ship him off to the Dursleys.

Harry nods, his face withdrawn as he tries to keep tears at bay. And on top of all of that, today was another flying lesson. At least until Oliver, Percy, and the others all agreed to let Harry have the day off instead, once it was clear that Harry wasn’t in a good enough mental state to even consider holding a broom.

The four decided to take a walk around the completely empty Hogwarts, hoping to get Harry’s mind off of the day. It wasn’t working that well, but it was still better than when they were all sitting in the trunk.

Morag and Hermione both grab Harry’s hand as Justin reaches around to lay a supportive arm on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry smiles at his friends.

“Thanks guys. I don’t know what I would do with-”

A roar rings out through the air, and the four first years all turn to stare in horror as a Mountain Troll comes rushing at them.

________________________________________

Percy is quick to gather the Gryffindors, quickly checking that Ron, Fred, and George are actually present as loud roars start to echo throughout Hogwarts.

He’s halfway through counting the first years when it hits him. Hermione is missing.

“Shit,” Percy curses.

Oliver frowns, coming over to his friend's side.

“Where’s Hermione?” Percy asks the first years.

Ron sneers, and Percy smacks his brother in the back of the head. “Not fucking now Ron. This is serious! Do you know where she is? Did you do something to her?”

“Why do you assume I did something?” Ron asks, glaring at his brother, who glares back at Ron in return.

“Answer the bloody question Ron. I don’t have time for your idiocy.”

“She’s with Harry and the rest of her friends,” Fay pipes up. “Harry didn't really feel like celebrating.”

Oliver and Percy both pale as the Gryffindors start to exit the Great Hall together to make their way back to the Gryffindor Tower.

Percy opens his mouth to open another question, when another roar sounds out, frightening many of the students.

But this time, a scream follows the roars.

“Hermione!” Someone screams.

Oliver takes off towards the screams without a hesitation.

Percy turns back the first years, who all have horrified looks on their faces.

Another scream rings out. “Harry!”

“Stay with the group!” Percy demands, before rushing after Oliver.

________________________________________

“Dodge!” Morag yells as the troll comes barreling towards them.

Justin and Hermione jump to the left as Harry and Morag go towards the right. The troll barrels right past where they were all standing just seconds earlier, letting loose a deafening roar as it before turning to face the group again.

“We need to hide!” Morag yells.

“No,” Hermione yells back. “Mountain Trolls have a great sense of smell and can probably rip through walls, especially with that club. He will find us.”

“Then what do we do?” Justin asks. “Because that thing is coming back.”

“Dodge it,” Hermione suggests. “And pray that help comes in time.”

“Pray to which go- oh crap!” Morag starts to joke before being interrupted.

The troll swings down his club at Harry and Morag. Harry dodges further away from Hermione and Justin while Morag lands a bit closer to the two, but she drops her wand in the process, right by the troll’s feet.

“Hermione, what are its weaknesses?” Harry asks.

“Not many,” Hermione explains as the troll readies for another attack. “It’s not very smart, but it’s resistant to most magic.”

“Well isn’t that bloody brilli- Dodge!” Morag yells, pushing Justin out of the way of the troll’s club. Justin curses as he also drops his wand in the process. Hermione jumps back herself but lands on her back, catching the troll’s attention.

Hermione winces before she notices the troll preparing another attack at her.

Justin and Morag both rush towards Hermione to try to reach her before the troll crushes her.

Both Harry and Hermione raise their wands.

________________________________________

“Penny, Morag is missing,” Lisa says to the fifth-year prefect, with tears in her eyes. “You don't think that-”

Lisa is cut off by the sound of screams, and the first-year whimpers at the sound.

Penny flinches back, looking over at her boyfriend’s house, hoping he has more answers.

She catches Oliver running off in the direction of the screams. Percy turns towards the first years for a second before rushing off after his best friend.

Penny turns back to face Lisa. “Listen, get to the tower and stay safe. I’ll find Morag.”

Penny chases after her boyfriend and his best friend, wand in hand.

She really hopes her skills don’t come in handy, but she has a feeling they will be needed before the night is over.

________________________________________

“Incendio” Harry casts on the troll, but the spell bounces off the beast. Harry turns to stare at Hermione, a terrified expression on his face as the troll brings a club down on one of his best friends.

“Bombarda!” Hermione yells, blasting the club right out of the troll’s hands and breaking it in the process.

Justin rushes to Hermione’s side, helping the girl up, as Morag stays in between the two and Harry, keeping close to all of them.

She doesn’t understand the first thing about her ability to predict when the hits are coming, but she has no issues using it to protect her friends.

“What was that?” Harry asks.

“Explosion charm Hermione says, wincing as Justin helps her up, rubbing her sore wand arm. “ Third year material. And it has a huge kickback, but it at least stuns trolls. At least, it stuns the male trolls.”

“What about the females?” Morag asks, right as Justin yells, “Harry, my wand!”

Harry nods. “Wingardium Leviosa!” Harry casts, levitating the wand over into Justin’s outstretched hand.

“Much bigger, much more dangerous,” Hermione says. “Especially if she’s mated and her mate is being attacked.”

“Harry, this is Morag’s wand!” Justin yells.

“Sorry, I didn't kno-”

“Harry! Dodge!” Morag yells and Harry jumps forward as the troll moves to stomp on Harry, clearly upset with the fact that his club has been broken into several pieces.

Harry rolls out of the troll’s second stomp, trying to stand up but slipping and being forced to crawl away to avoid the third stomp.

“Harry!” Hermione yells as the troll brings his foot down again and Harry struggles to get away.

________________________________________

Marcus knew that Harry wasn’t there since he first sat down at the feast.

Harry has made quite a buzz within the Slytherins of the Grey Alliance of the last few days.

That’s why, as soon as the roaring starts, Marcus turns to face Daphne and Tracey.

“Get to the Slytherin common room. I’ll find you as soon as he’s safe.”

Tracey and Daphne both have worried looks on their faces, but Daphne manages to steel hers and nod.

Marcus briefly notes the looks of horror on Theo’s and Pansy’s faces, but decides to ignore them for now, having much more important people to worry about.

Marcus moves in the direction of the roars, flinching when he hears a scream and someone call out Hermione’s name, and then Harry’s.

By the time Marcus starts to move again, Gemma Fawley is right on his heels, rushing towards the source of the screams.

He has to make it in time. He promised his mothers he would look after Harry, and he’s done a shit job of that so far.

That needs to change.

________________________________________

“BOMBARDA MAXIMA!” Justin yells, knocking the troll off balance and away from Harry.

But in the process, the explosion throws Justin back several feet, slamming him hard into the wall.

Justin’s head connects with the wall in a loud crack and the boy crumples to the ground, groaning and crying as the pain starts to hit him.

Hermione gets thrown back several feet too, since she was standing next to Justin. She lands on her elbow with a sickening crunch and gets the air knocked out of her.

“Justin!” Hermione yells once she recovers from the initial blast, rushing to his side as Morag moves to help Harry up. Hermione winces as her right arm dangles uselessly at her side and bites her lip as a wave of pain shoots through her right side, from her ribs to her clearly broken arm. She moves to Justin’s still form, throwing her wand into the holster to give herself a free hand. “What were you thinking adding ‘maxima’ to the end of the curse?”

Hermione cradles Justin’s head with her left arm, wincing at the blood gushing from the back of his head. Justin whimpers, laying his head against Hermione’s shoulder.

“Not my wand,” Justin mumbles. “Should be weaker. Had to be strong. Had to compensate”

Hermione can’t argue with his logic. Adding “maxima” should have made the curse more powerful, just enough to make up for the fact that he was using a wand that wasn’t his.

“Hermione, how is he?” Harry asks, getting back to his feet with Morag’s help.

“Not good,” Hermione says. “Definite concussion. And he’s losing a lot of blood.”

Hermione’s robes are already soaked with Justin’s blood.

“I don’t even know what his other injuries are, but he has to have a lot.”

Hermione broke her arm from the impact of just being next to the blast. She can’t even imagine how many broken and fractured bones Justin has.

Justin starts to sob into Hermione’s neck. “Hermi … it hurs.”

“Get him out of here!” Harry yells. “Go!”

“But-”

“We’ll distract it,” Morag promises. “Get him out of here!”

Hermione stares at her two friends in horror before nodding.

She wraps her left arm around Justin’s waist, starting to lift the boy up and support him.

Hermione gasps in pain and tries to ignore the tears that sting her eyes. “Come on Justin. We just have to do a little walking.”

Justin’s pained whimpers and sobs as she starts to move them bring Hermione’s tears to the forefront, as they start to fall down her cheeks in waves.

Hermione makes it about a dozen feet when another roar sounds out from behind them.

A female troll.

A mated female troll.

Shit.

________________________________________

Cedric is the first to hear the screams.

The first years behind him hear them a second later.

As soon as someone screams out Harry’s name, Michael rushes forward, towards the scream.

Cedric catches his brother, who already has tears in his eyes. “Stupefy.”

Michael sinks towards the floor as he immediately loses consciousness, and Cedric passes his brother off to Hannah and Rolf, who both look like they have half a mind to run after Harry themselves.

Cedric catches Tonks breaking off from the rest of the Hufflepuffs, and he already knows where she’s going.

And he intends to follow her.

“Harry!” Susan screams, right as Megan and Ernie grab her, stopping her from following after Cedric and Tonks.

Susan breaks down as screams continue to sound out throughout Hogwarts, and one particularly loud scream of pain has her kicking and screaming as she tries to break free from Megan and Ernie’s hold.

“Please!” Susan yells. “Harry! I need to help them! I need to help him! Harry!”

Susan continues to fight against the hold on her until a fifth-year prefect stuns her, putting the poor girl out of her misery. Tears continue to fall down Susan’s face even as Ernie picks her up and carries her toward the Hufflepuff common room.

________________________________________

“Wingardium Leviosa,” Harry casts again, slapping Justin’s wand into Morag’s hand.

“I think Justin broke yours,” Harry says as the female troll rushes towards them.

“I know. We’ll worry about it later.”

The unsaid ‘if we live’ lingers in the air.

“Hermione go!” Harry orders.

“But-”

“NOW!” Harry shouts, prompting the girl to continue down the hall with the sobbing Justin.

“We have to give them time to escape,” Morag says. “They have to live.”

Harry nods. He knows Morag has the same thought process as him.

They have people to go back. They have people that love them. Family that loves them.

They have bonds.

They have to live, even if Morag and Harry don’t.

Harry ignores the tears that sting his eyes as he raises his wand.

“Bombarda!” Harry and Morag cast simultaneously, both wincing as pain shoots up their arms from the explosion.

Morag’s spell barely even fazes the beast, but Harry’s manages to stun the troll for a second, before she continues to rush down the hall towards the dazed form of her mate and the children who took him down.

“Dodge!” Morag yells, and Harry and Morag split up, jumping into the air to avoid the troll.

“Bombarda!” Harry casts, in mid-air, launching himself into the wall, though not as hard as Justin.

The spell catches the troll off-guard, but stuns Harry as he struggles to get up.

“Harry!” Morag yells as the female troll starts to bring down her club to swipe at Harry.

Morag pushes Harry out of the way of the club, which catches her and knocks her several feet into the air before she lands hard against the floor, her unconscious form rolling several feet before stopping.

Hermione stares at the scene in horror as she struggles with the fact that she is leaving Harry and Morag to die.

Hermione pulls her wand out of her holster, grasping the wand with her broken arm.

Harry falls harshly as well, his head connecting with the ground. He struggles to get up, and the female troll notices this.

Harry hears the roar, and struggles to crawl away from the beast as she brings down her foot to stomp at Harry.

________________________________________

Tonks was at the front of the group, leading the charge towards Harry, Hermione, Justin, and Morag, but the trio of Quidditch players, Oliver, Marcus, and Cedric, overtook her.

Right behind Tonks is Gemma Fawley and Percy Weasley, with Penny Clearwater bringing up the rear of the group.

There’s not a professor in sight.

There’s probably not even one on this floor. The trolls are supposed to be in the dungeon, not the second floor!

What is going on?

An ear-shattering scream reverberates throughout Hogwarts, sending a shiver down Tonks’ spine.

“Tell your owl to find me if you need me, or just yell like really really loudly and I’ll come running.”

That’s what Tonks said to him, all the way back during Harry’s first week.

Dammit Harry, that wasn’t supposed to be literal!

Tonks gains a second wind as Harry’s pained screams echo throughout the second floor and the rest of the school.

“I’m coming Harry,” Tonks promises. “I’m coming. Just stay alive until I get there.”

________________________________________

Harry hears the crunch before he feels anything.

But he does feel it.

The scream is practically ripped from Harry’s lungs as the troll crushes his right leg.

Harry continues to scream as he tries to focus on anything but the pain. As he tries to focus on crawling away from the troll before she can stomp on him again, finishing the job.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Hermione casts, pulling Harry away from the troll and closer to Morag’s still form.

Harry sobs at the sight, gritting his teeth and trying not to focus on the pain as he reaches over, feeling for Morag’s pulse.

Harry lets out a shaky sob of relief when he feels Morag’s pulse pound. The sob quickly turns into a scream again as another wave of pain rips through his body.

Morag is still alive. Hermione is still alive. Justin is still alive.

For now.

But Harry, he has to make it count.

“Bombarda!” Hermione casts from down the hall, before screaming in pain as the kickback from the explosive spell further shatters her already broken and throbbing arm. She drops her wand, unable to even move her hand, as she continues to support Justin and walk away from the devastation behind them.

Harry knows what he has to do. He has to buy time.

Harry manages to pull himself up, standing on his left leg.

He has his wand in his right hand, with Morag just behind him and Hermione still struggling to carrying Justin as far away as she can.

The female troll notices Harry, roaring before rushing towards him.

He has to buy time. Harry has to buy time.

“Protego!”

The shield appears just over Harry’s head, and Harry winces as the troll’s club collides with the spell, but the shield holds.

Morag starts to mumble and groan in pain, pushing Harry to strengthen the shield as the troll continues to hammer at it.

Each hit sends a shockwave through Harry’s entire body that elicits painful sobs from his mouth, but he just continues to hold.

Magic starts to swirl around the hall, pulling towards Harry as he rapidly drains his core holding the shield spell.

Harry starts to scream as he feels his core being depleted. He holds his stance, pulling the swirling magic closer to him as his core empties.

The shield blinks for a second, almost fading as Harry continues to gather the swirling magic.

“Protego!” Harry casts again, releasing the magic he has gathered to create a new shield. He screams as his wand starts to heat up in his hand before exploding.

Harry screams and falls to his knees, holding his hands over his head to focus the swirling magic into the shield.

He just has to hold. He just has to buy time.

Harry continues to scream as his vision goes blurry and the troll continues to pound at the shield.

________________________________________

Cedric, Oliver, Marcus, and the others all turn down the hallway just in time to watch as Harry recasts a shield spell over his head.

The bigger troll beats at the shield while the smaller one lies prone but is clearly working on regaining its senses enough to get back into the fight.

Harry screams and falls to his knees as his wand turns a bright red and explodes, sending a shockwave of magic throughout the hallway.

Penny is knocked off her feet and everyone else has to brace to keep themselves steady.

“Bombarda!” Tonks casts, trying to distract the troll. The spell does clearly hurt the bigger troll, but it just continues to beat at Harry’s shield.

Cedric rushes right towards Harry and Morag, knowing he needs to reach them before Harry’s shield breaks.

Cedric doesn’t have the first idea on how the shield is still up since Harry’s wand exploded, but he ignores that for now. He can worry about it once everyone is safe.

The smaller troll finally makes his way to his feet, stepping in front of Cedric, Oliver, and Marcus as the three quidditch players race to reach Harry and Morag.

Marcus pushes Oliver forward and out of the troll’s way and he dodges to avoid the troll’s arm as it swings at them.

Cedric ducks and slides right under the troll’s legs, jumping back to his feet and continuing to race to Harry.

He goes right through the bigger troll’s legs, as Oliver appears from the right.

Cedric snags Harry, picking the smaller boy up and running as the shield starts to crack.

Oliver grabs Morag, throwing the girl over his shoulder as Cedric cradles Harry against his chest.

The troll breaks through the shield and slams its club until the ground, the impact throwing Cedric, Oliver, Morag, and Harry several feet into the air before they connect with the ground.

Both Cedric and Oliver move so they take the brute of the landing, Cedric gasping in pain as one of his ribs cracks from the impact.

“Bombarda Maxima!” Gemma casts, shattering her arm, but throwing the bigger troll off its feet.

Tonks continues to cast smaller Bombardas at the smaller troll as Penny, Percy, and Marcus all rush to catch up with the group.

Marcus pushes right past the group with Penny as they rush towards Hermione and Justin. Marcus reaches the group first, pulling a sobbing and whimpering Justin away from a struggling Hermione. Penny moves to help support Hermione.

Percy helps push Oliver and Cedric forward as the bigger troll starts to get up. Tonks is doing a decent job at distracting the smaller troll, but Gemma is pretty much out of commission now that her wand arm is broken.

Oliver, Cedric, and Percy reach Marcus and Penny, with the four kids all wrapped in their arms.

Morag wakes up and starts to scream, distracting the group as the bigger troll raises its club and swings it wide, throwing at the group.

Everyone’s eyes go wide as they struggle to get out of the way of the projectile, but it’s a futile effort. There’s just not enough time.

They feel the magic before they see the spell or hear Harry cast it. The swirling, electrifying magic almost deafens then as Harry screams “PROTEGO!”

A shield appears in front of the group, staying up just long enough to bounce the club away.

Harry starts to scream and writhe in pain, as Tonks casts “Bombarda Maxima” breaking her own arm in the hopes that she distracts the bigger troll long enough for everyone to escape.

“Protego Maxima!” Professor McGonagall yells from down the hall, and a powerful shield stretches over the entire group, protecting them.

Cedric watches as Professor Sprout casts a Bombarda from down the hall, joined a few seconds later by a second one from Professor Snape.

Professor Flitwick speeds down the hall, wand in one hand and a goblin battle axe in the other.

The students all sigh with relief. The Heads of the Houses have arrived. The four most powerful witches and wizards in the castle besides Headmaster Dumbledore.

Cedric cries a little as he cradles Harry close.

Another few Bombardas from Professors Sprout and Snape take down the larger troll, with Flitwick knocking the smaller one on its back with a carefully placed Bombarda, before he slits the creature's throat with his axe.

“Heir Apparent Clearwater,” Professor McGonagall shouts as she approaches the group. “Madam Pomfrey is on her way with healers from St. Mungos. Please try to keep them stable until then.

Penny nods, ordering the four boys to lay the kids down so she can look them over.
for injuries.

Justin continues to moan and whimper in pain as Marcus struggles to staunch the bleeding from the back of the boy’s head.

Hermione bites the collar of her robes to keep from screaming out as Percy tries to soothe the distraught and injured girl.

Morag is, luckily, completely unconscious again, cradled in Oliver’s arms. Her left arm and leg are both bent at unnatural angles and she intakes sharply every time Oliver shifts even the slightest.

And Harry … Harry might be the worst off. Cedric can already see bruises forming all over the boy’s body, and his wand arm is clearly broken, with burns all over his hand from when his wand exploded.

And then there’s his leg. Cedric resists the urge to gag as he sees bone peeking out in several place. He does what Penny tells him, ripping off his outer robe and wrapping it around Harry’s leg as a tourniquet to try to stop the bleeding.

The worst part of it all is the fact that Harry is still awake as Cedric does this, screaming as Cedric tightens the tourniquet.

“I know Harry. I know. Help is on the way, I promise.”

Harry nods as he bites his bottom lip to try to stop from screaming. He’s ultimately unsuccessful, his entire body spasming from the pain.

“Shh,” Cedric says. “Shh, it’s ok Harry.”

“Morg … Herm … Jus,” Harry whimpers.

“All alive,” Cedric promises. “They are all alive. Just hold on Harry.”

Harry nods as tears pour down his face.

“Penny, can’t we stun him?”

Penny looks pained at her own answer but shakes her head. “No. We can’t get magic involved, not until the healers get here. Otherwise, the spells could counteract with whatever the healers cast or administer.”

Cedric winces back to face Harry. He pushes stray strands of hair out of Harry’s face, cupping the boy’s cheek.

“It’s ok Harry. I’m right here. Everyone is right here. Help is on the way.”

“Ced … hurts.”

“I know Harry. I know. I’m so sorry.”

Harry spends a few more minutes trying to soothe the whimpering and crying boy, cradling the boy’s head in his arms.

Eventually, the healers arrive, pulling the four older boys off of the first years and onto gurneys so they can be individually checked for injuries after the kids are triaged.

Cedric ignores the pang of his ribs as he sees a stasis spell get cast on Harry, before the boy is lifted into a gurney and rushed down the hall back to infirmary and the nearest floo to St. Mungos. The rest of the group follows, with Tonks, Gemma, and Penny being forced onto gurneys as well, taking them towards the infirmary so they can also be sent to St. Mungos.

“Will they live?” Cedric asks the healer who is pushing his gurney.

“The two girls will,” the healer says. “The taller boy should make it, but his head took a big beating. The Potter Heir … I don’t know yet.”

Cedric cries at the news, clutching his sides as his ribs start to ache from the sobs that wrack his body.

He doesn’t even hear the stasis spell get cast on him before Cedric passes out as the spell tries to keep him from further injuring himself.

Tonks stares down at the hall where everything took place before they turn the corner.

It looks like a warzone.

Chapter Text

October 31, 1991

Miriam Greengrass wakes up to the sound of an alarm.

She bolts out of bed, her husband jumping up a second later.

“Is that the St. Mungo’s alarm?” Adrian asks his wife.

Miriam nods. “Yes. They only send that out when they have an overflow of patients. It wouldn’t take much to cause an overflow during the night shift but still.”

St. Mungo’s generally only gets a handful of new cases a day, since most witches and wizards go to private healers first, only being transferred to St. Mungo’s if the situation is more severe.

That alarm hasn’t gone off in over a decade, not since the Reign of Terror ended.

“I’ve got to go,” Miriam says, kissing her husband quickly after she finishes getting dressed.

“I love you,” Adrian says.

“I love you too. Lock down the house, just in case. I’ll send a Patronus when I have more news.”

Adrian nods, as Miriam rushes to floo.

She rushes out of the floo in the staff room, running straight into someone in the crowded room.

“Miriam!”

“Jared,” Miriam greets in relief as she stumbles over to her locker, trying to quickly pull on her uniform. “What is going on?”

She stares at her friend, Consort Jared Fawley nee Davies, and the look of worry on his face is clear. “No clue, but I’ve already seen Lady Catherine Diggory, Lady Geetha Patil, and even Lord Cedar Parkinson.”

Miriam pales. “Don’t they know better than to call Catherine and Cedar in at the same time?!”

“They said it was a big enough emergency.”

“What could possibly be so big?” Miriam almost shouts.

The animosity between twins Catherine Diggory nee Parkinson and Cedar Parkinson is well known throughout Britain. It was so great that Catherine left Britain for over a decade to raise her son when her husband, Jonathan Thorne, died.

“Kids,” Jared answers, pushing up his glasses. “11 patients from Hogwarts.”

Miriam stares at Jared in shock. “Do we know who?”

Jared shakes his head.

The two both rush out of the staff room, Jared almost colliding into Madam Pomfrey as they burst into the hall.

“Poppy?” Miriam asks. “What’s going on?”

Poppy stares at Jared, frowning deeply. “Jared, they weren’t … you aren’t supposed to be here.”

Jared’s eyes widen at the implication behind Poppy’s words and he shoots off in the direction of the trauma ward.

Poppy and Miriam don’t hesitate to take off after him.

“What is their status?” Miriam asks Poppy.

“Three only have superficial wounds, four have mostly broken bones, one has a couple of severe breakings but isn’t critical, and three are in critical condition.”

“What the hell happened Poppy?”

“Trolls.”

Miriam stares at Poppy in shock. “In the school?”

“Yes.”

“Jared, you can’t treat her!” Miriam hears Cedar yell, as the man blocks Jared’s entrance to the trauma ward.

“Get out of my way Cedar! Gemma! Gemma!”

“Jared!” Poppy yells. “Gemma is not one of the ones in critical condition. She will be fine with some rest and healing, but I have patients, first years in there, who are in critical condition. And I need your help to prevent their injuries from having a permanent effect on them. So calm down!”

Jared manages to relax a bit after getting confirmation that Gemma is not critical, but Miriam and Cedar both tense at the news that first-years are injured.

“Poppy, are Daphne or Tracy-”

“Or Pansy,” Cedar adds. “Michael?”

“No,” Poppy says. “None of them. But Miriam, Marcus is one of the ones with superficial injuries.”

Miriam pales at the news of her godson’s injuries. “I have to tell Marietta and Juniper.”

“Later!” Poppy insists. “Right now we have patients to worry about. Critical ones first and for the love of Merlin, if you have a personal connection to the patient that will affect your ability to heal said patient, let someone else handle it!”

Poppy pushes the doors to the trauma ward open, and the other three healers follow after her.

The screams of pain assault her ears and Miriam starts to search the room.

Penny Clearwater is trying to assist Geetha Patil with one of the critical patients, as some of the assistant healers try to push her back onto a gurney.

Nymphadora Tonks and Gemma Fawley are laying on gurneys, their wand arms obviously broken in several places. Jared looks at his daughter, resisting the urge to rush to her side before she nods and promises she’s alright.

Oliver Wood, Percy Weasley, and Marcus are all gathered together. Miriam catches Marcus’ eyes, and the boy nods at his godmother, giving her the permission to focus on other patients. Of the three, Oliver is the only one that is clearly injured, with bruises starting to form on the boy as he winces every time he breathes.

Of the three critical and one severe patient, two are unconscious. Geetha struggles to slow the bleeding on a head injury of the boy, ordering the assistant healers to get her blood replenishing potions.

Jared rushes to the girl’s side, wincing at her beaten body and unnaturally bent left arm and leg.

Both the conscious critical and severe patients are screaming, with help from Cedric Diggory.

“Get away from him!” Cedric yells at his stepmother, shocking Miriam.

The severe patient, a young girl with bushy hair and a vicious stare, has her wand in her shattered arm, glaring at Catherine Diggory.

“No!” Harry yells, shoving Catherine’s hand away. Harry manages to knock his leg against the frame of the gurney in his struggle to push Catherine away, letting loose a blood-curdling scream.

Miriam rushes to Harry’s side with Cedar following quickly behind her.

Catherine turns to glare at the Cedar as soon as she notices her brother, but Miriam just shoves Catherine aside, and Cedar rushes past his furious sister.

“Cedar, cast a diagnostic charm,” Miriam orders, as moves towards Harry, running her fingers through the boy’s hair to get his attention.

“Mir-”

“Shh shh,” Miriam whispers. “It’s ok Harry, it’s ok. We’ve got you.”

“Cedar, this is my patient!” Catherine yells.

“Oh for fucks sake Cat, pick another one! He clearly doesn’t want you!”

“Death Eater Swi-”

“Catherine Diggory!” Poppy snaps, from where she is trying to calm the bushy haired girl. “We have no shortage of patients. Pick someone else and do your damn job!”

Catherine glares at Cedar before moving over to check on her stepson.

Or at least, that’s what she was planning to do.

But as soon as Catherine gets close to the boy, Cedric sits up and spits in her face. “Stay the fuck away from me!”

Everyone in the room stares at the scene in shock, as Cedric grunts in pain, clutching his side.

“Cedric, it’s me. Your stepmother.”

“You are nothing to me!” Cedric snaps, gritting his teeth as he fights against the pang from his aching ribs. “You are a child abuser! You hurt my brother!”

Cedar glares at his sister, his wand hand twitching before he refocuses on Harry.

“He’s got two broken ribs, and three cracked ones,” Cedar starts to list off. “A minor concussion. His right arm is broken, and he has extensive burn marks on his right hand and upper arm. And his leg is crushed. Every bone in his right leg from his toes until his mid-thigh is shattered, blood vessels popped, muscles shredded … the leg is a lost cause.”

“Is regrowth an option?” Miriam asks, as she continues to try to soothe Harry while examining his arm and applying a spell that will limit that chance of infection around his burns.

“Yes,” Cedar says. “It wasn’t cursed, just crushed. But his body is focusing all of his healing on his leg and I don’t know if we’ll be able to stop the bleeding anytime soon.”

Miriam stares down at the boy, her heart breaking as Harry whimpers and moans in pain. The boy’s glasses are missing, and his clothes are tattered and ripped in several places.

“We have to remove it. Replace the tourniquet and get blood replenishing potions ready.”

Cedar nods, quickly replacing the tourniquet and handing a blood replenishing potion to Miriam.

Miriam takes it, quickly uncapping it and putting it to Harry’s lips.

“Harry, listen to me. I need you to drink this. I know you are in pain, but this will help with your blood loss, ok?”

Harry nods, letting Miriam pour the potion into his mouth. He gags and chokes on it before sobbing as the pain resurfaces.

“I’m ready,” Cedar says.

Miriam nods. “Harry, this is going to hurt and you are going to lose your leg for a little bit, but you will get it back. I promise.”

Harry stares at Miriam in confusion before nodding, obviously trusting her enough even though it’s clear he’s not entirely sure what is happening.

Miriam cradles his head with one arm and secures his broken arm with her other. An assistant healer braces Harry’s uninjured left arm and leg, as Cedar starts to cast the spell.

“Diffindo peribitis.”

Harry screams and thrashes about as his leg is severed from the rest of his body. Miriam just holds Harry close even as his blood-curdling scream of pain deafens her.

“Pass out,” Miriam whispers. “Please pass out Harry. Please pass out.”

Harry thrashes and screams for a few more agonizing seconds before his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he slumps against the gurney.

“Roll him to surgical, now!” Miriam demands.

________________________________________

Miriam collapses into the nearest chair as she walks out of surgical, Cedar joining her a few seconds later.

“We did it,” Cedar sighs. “He’s going to recover.”

Miriam nods.

“He’s going to need physical therapy though. For the new leg.”

“He can handle it,” Miriam says, picking up at the underlying question in Cedar’s words.

Most witches and wizards, when they lose a limb besides their wand arm, they don’t follow the proper protocols, don’t go to all of the physical therapy, don’t follow the exercises, don’t use the limb despite the struggle they endure, and they never regain full motion.

But Harry will do it. He’s strong enough. He’s certainly stubborn enough.

Cedar nods. “I sure hope so. I’ve heard rumors that Heir Potter is friends with Michael. I really didn't want to be responsible for maiming my nephew’s friend.”

“We wouldn’t be responsible no matter what,” Miriam disagrees. “Whatever happened … it’s the school’s fault. And I didn't know you cared so much for Ward Diggory. Have you ever even met him before?”

Cedar stiffens, turning to stare at Miriam. “He’s family. I don’t need to have met him to care about him.”

Miriam stares back at Cedar, a little startled by the look in his eyes.

She’s seen that look before, a few times in fact.

A selfless love that has been carried for over a decade. The love for a child that has been separated from the person who cares for them.

She saw the same look in Serena and Emmeline.

Miriam nods, opening her mouth to say something when Jared collapses next to her.

“My girl, Morag MacDougal, she’s going to be fine. She’ll have to sleep the Skele-Gro off and she’ll be sore for a few weeks, but she’ll recover.”

“Ours too,” Miriam says. “But he’ll have to go through physical therapy for his new leg.”

Jared nods. “From everything I’ve heard from Gemma, he’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t aware that Gemma knew Harry that well.”

Jared nods. “She didn't for a while, but in the last few weeks he’s been making plays with those friends of his. She’s impressed. I just hope this doesn’t affect them too much.”

“It will,” Cedar interrupts. “You don’t go through something like this unscathed. I don’t know about your daughter, or your godson Miriam, but those four first years, they’ll carry this with them for the rest of their lives.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Miriam asks.

“Both. Or neither. Depends on what they do with it.”

________________________________________

“Nymphadora, what were you thinking?” Andromeda asks her daughter. “Rushing into danger like that!”

Tonks glares at her mother. “For the millionth time mother, call me Tonks. And I did it for Harry. And I’d do it again.”

Andromeda pales and opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.

“Is Harry-” Ted starts to ask.

Tonks looks down at the ground in shame. “I don’t know. He was … he was really beat-up dad. I did everything I could dad, I promise. I got to him as fast as I could.”

“Oh of course you did baby. Of course you did.”

________________________________________

“Keep her away from me Dad!” Cedric yells before grunting in pain.

“Cedric, you need to stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

“And she’s hurting Michael!”

“I’m sure she didn't mean to sl-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll be staying at the Changs for Yule! And I’ll take Michael with me!”

________________________________________

“Mom, Dad, I’m alright,” Oliver tries to reassure his worried parents, but winces in the process.

Lady Felicity Wood hovers over her son, pulling up his blanket. “No more talking Ollie, you need to rest. David, cast a noise cancelling ward so he can sleep.”

“Yes dear,” Lord David Wood says, reaching for his wand.

“No!” Oliver protests. “I need to know if everyone is ok first.”

“Ollie-”

“Please mom,” Oliver pleads. “I need to know that they are ok.”

Felicity and David both sigh before nodding.

________________________________________

“Grandma, I’m fine,” Penny protests. “I am fine.”

Lady Agatha Clearwater just scoffs. “Listen here Penelope, just because you don’t have broken bones like your friends do does not mean that you are fine. You have quite a few bruises, so you are going to lay down or I am going to force a dreamless sleep potion down your throat. Got it?”

Penny nods, knowing it’s better to not argue with her grandmother. The woman has always been overprotective, ever since Penny’s parents were killed during the Reign of Terror.

“Oh my baby, what did they do to you Percy?” Molly Weasley shrieks loudly, disturbing the entire room.

“Mom, I’m fine. I’m barely injured.”

“Barely!”

Penny grimaces. She could do a lot worse for a guardian than her grandmother.

________________________________________

“I’m fine papa. I promise.”

Lord Thomas Fawley nods, leaning forward to kiss his daughter’s forehead. “Of course you are honey. If you weren’t, it would have taken a force of nature to separate your dad from your side. But we really need to talk about your destructive casting. What were-”

“I had to papa. If I didn't … I didn't have a choice.”

“Ok honey. I don’t suppose I can convince you to rest. You know that you need to sleep for the Skele-Gro to fully work.”

“Not until I know more about them,” Gemma protests.

“Ok Gemma. But at least try to relax a little bit.”

Gemma didn't even realize how tense she was until her papa mentioned it. She tries to relax, laying her head on her father’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you baby girl.”

________________________________________

“Moms!” Marcus yells. “I am fine!”

“Of course you are Marcus,” Lady Marietta Flint says. “For now. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Marietta,” Consort Juniper Flint says, a tone of warning clear in her voice. “We should at least hear him out first. Before we decide on a punishment for behaving like a bull-headed Gryffindor.”

Marcus scoffs at the accusation. “I did not!”

“Yes you did Marcus,” Marietta says. “And for the life of me, I can’t understand why.”

“I was trying to protect Harry,” Marcus says. “Harry is one of the ones in critical condition. I was trying to do what you guys told me to do.”

Marietta and Juniper both flinch back in shock.

“Is he ok?”

Marcus grits his teeth, staring at the ground. “I don’t know. I don’t know if any of them are ok. Granger probably is, but the rest of them … it was really bad moms.”

Juniper and Marietta surround Marcus on either side, holding the boy close as tears start to fall from his eyes.

“I was trying to do what you told me to do moms. I was trying to protect them.”

“Shh, we know baby,” Marietta says. “We know. You did everything you could.”

________________________________________

Cedar, Geetha, Miriam, Poppy, and Jared all walk into the recovery wing together, and immediately all eyes are on them.

“We had to remove Heir Potter’s leg, but we are regrowing it already,” Cedar starts to explain. “He is on a healthy amount of Skele-Gro and will need physical therapy, but he will recover.”

“Miss Granger is also on Skele-Gro and will sleep through the night, but she is fine,” Poppy says.

“Mr. Finch-Fletchley will be in a medically-induced coma for the next day or so as his bones repair, but he will recover.”

“Miss MacDougal is also on Skele-Gro, but she should wake up sometime tomorrow.”

Sighs of relief ring out throughout the room, and the Hogwarts students all cling to their parents, crying tears relief.

“Miriam,” Lily Potter says, pulling the woman aside. “Harry, is he … he’s gonna be alright? He’s going to be ok?”

Lily has tears streaming down her face, and even James looks worried, a deep frown on his face, but Miriam knows the family has been here before, twice already in the last few months. Those tears and that worry never lasts, even when it should

“He will recover. He will need physical therapy and it will probably take a while before he gets full function back in his leg, but he will recover.”

Lily nods, hugging James and crying into his shoulder.

James thanks Miriam tersely, before attempting to comfort his wife.

“It’s all my fault James. It’s all my fault.”

“Shh, don’t think like that Lily. You couldn’t have known.”

Lily doesn’t take comfort in James’ words. Because she knows they aren’t true.

But he doesn’t know that.

________________________________________

November 1, 1991

Hermione jolts awake, Hedwig flying up as the girl sits up suddenly before groaning in pain.

“Hedwig?” Hermione asks. “Were you … pecking me to try to wake me up?”

Hedwig chirps.

Hermione groans again, before looking around the room, noticing her friends lying unconscious on other beds in the room. “Are the others … ok? Will they recover?”

Hedwig nods and chirps again.

“Ok, then I’m the first one up and probably the least injured. Where’s Harry’s trunk?”

Hedwig chirps again, gesturing to the shrunken trunk on the table next to Hermione.

“Ok good. I saw Tonks during the fight, so her parents might be here. Go find them for me if you can. I’m going to start on some letters.”

Hedwig nods, taking off through the open window.

Hermione groans as she unshrinks the trunk enough to reach in and grab some spare parchment and a quill.

“Who to write to first?” Hermione muses aloud.

They didn't have plans in place for this, for an accident with no clear human aggressor that took out the entire group, but they had plans in case the group was taken out by a group of students from Hermione’s or Harry’s house.

She supposes that plan will work.

First, letters to their families, but that can wait until she has more news about the extent of everyone’s injuries.

On that list, there’s Justin’s parents, Hermione’s parents, Jacob Potter, and Emmeline Vance.

After that, getting into contact with a solicitor is a priority, but Hedwig is already taking care of.

After legal support comes public relations. Whatever incident arised, Harry and Morag were insistent that they needed to be seen as victims and not perpetrators. It’s a bit harder for someone to swing that they were anything more than victims in this case, but Hermione knows she can’t be too careful. Besides, playing up the victim card could have benefits. Financial benefits.

Hermione makes a note to inquire about the worth of the troll carcasses. As the victims, they should be entitled to compensation. Hermione is going to make sure they get that.

They need that money for the rest of their plans, or at least Justin and Harry insist that they do. They also need that money for more expensive and rarer books that they can’t yet afford.

“Who should I write to?” Hermione asks outload, despite the fact that no one is awake to hear her. “The Daily Prophet obviously, but who?”

Justin would want them to go with a factual and by the books reporter.

Morag wouldn’t care.

But Harry would want someone over the top. Someone who would go fully into the story, stressing the event to portray the four as victims who survived by their own wits and magic.

Justin and Harry would argue back and forth for a bit, before Hermione would bring up that Harry’s reporter would likely make them a front-page story, and few people read past the front page in newspapers nowadays.

Justin would cave and Harry would look smug until Morag smacked him in the back of the head.

Hermione stares at the still forms of her friends, a single tear landing on the parchment in front of her. She doesn't want to do this part alone, but she has to for now. She has to get a jumpstart on all of this before they wake up. She has to be strong for them, until they can be strong for her too.

She reaches to grab a new sheet, but she pauses, as she can practically feel Harry stopping her.

“Leave it,” Hermione can practically hear Harry say. “It’ll get the message across better.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Harry,” Justin would protest.

“No, he’s right,” Morag would agree. “Maybe add a few more? Fling a water bottle at it? Come on, give us something Hermione.”

Hermione lets out a watery laugh before turning back to the parchment.

“Dear Rita Skeeter,

My name is Miss Hermione Granger, and I believe I have a story for you, regarding the events that took place last night at Hogwarts …”

________________________________________

Andromeda Tonks does not know how she let an owl bully her into following it through St. Mungo’s and away from her injured daughter.

Actually she does. Tonks insisting that that particular owl is Hedwig, Harry’s owl, was what pushed her to follow the owl.

Hedwig flies into the hospital room where the four first years, or “readers” are staying for their recovery. They were almost put into separate rooms, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that the four were kept together, explaining that separating them would only last for as long as they were all asleep anyways, since they would insist on being together.

Andromeda reaches the entrance of the room, almost running into Madam Pomfrey.

“Andromeda? What are you doing here? Miss Granger just woke up, but she still needs to res-”

Hedwig squawks Madam Pomfrey, making her presence known.

Madam Pomfrey stares at the owl before sighing. “Alright fine, you stubborn bird. You are worse than your owner. Five minutes, but then you have to leave Andromeda.”

Andromeda nods. “Thank you Poppy.”

Andromeda walks into the room, finding a bushy-haired girl closest to the window is the only one awake. Andromeda looks over at Harry’s bed for a second, noting that the boy seems to at least be sleeping peacefully. He’s most likely on a healthy dose of dreamless sleep.

“Ahh, Mrs. Tonks,” the girl greets, gesturing the woman over. Hedwig flies off of Andromeda’s shoulder, landing in Hermione’s lap. “Please, come join me.”

Hermione digs through a partially expanded library trunk, pulling out two sheets of paper.

“My name is Hermione Granger, and I am one of Harry’s best friends. Harry informed me of your offer to him as well as your husband’s, to be his solicitor and his mind healer, respectively. We are hoping that you would be willing to take all four of us on, with proper pay of course. I have contracts here if you would be willing to review them.”

Andromeda stares down at the papers. “You … these are binding. All I need to do is sign for it to take effect. How did you … did you predict this?”

“After Harry’s incident in our second week of school, we have been prepared for an incident that would knock some of us, if not all, unconscious. An incident that would have legal ramifications and would be rather traumatizing. Justin’s father is a solicitor in the muggle world, and with some research, he was able to create some contracts in the case of such an event. Would you be willing to consider signing the contract? Because if you do sign, then we have some work to do.”

“Such as?”

“I believe that my friends and I are legally entitled to financial compensation from the sale of the carcass of the trolls that attacked us, but we have little faith that we will be treated fairly in that regard without proper legal counsel.”

Andromeda nods. “I’ll sign.”

“Thank you,” Hermione says calmly, but relief is clear in her eyes.

Before either of the two can continue, someone bursts into the room, with Madam Pomfrey hot on her heels.

“Emmeline, you can’t-”

“Watch me Poppy!” Emmeline Vance snaps, turning to face Harry. “Oh Harry, not again.”

“He’s going to be fine Emmeline,” Madam Pomfrey says. “They all will. He will require some physical therapy, but he will be fine.”

Emmeline nods, only looking up when Hermione clears her throat.

“Miss Granger,” Emmeline greets, with a small smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Me too,” Hermione says. “We are all ok. I mean, as good as we can be. Right Madam Pomfrey?”

Madam Pomfrey nods. “Yes Miss Granger.”

Hermione nods, before turning back to Emmeline, giving the woman a small smile. “I’m glad you are here for him. It’s good that someone is.”

“Thank you,” Emmeline says. “Where are your parents?”

“Muggles aren’t allowed in St. Mungo’s,” Hermione says, with a scowl on her face. “Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told.”

Emmeline and Andromeda both turn to glare at Madam Pomfrey with looks of righteous fury on their faces.

“Don’t look at me! I didn't make the rule!”

________________________________________

Morag wakes up at a much sedate pace than Hermione, likely due to the fact that Hedwig is off delivering letters to Rita Skeeter and Jacob Potter.

Morag blinks, moving to sit up.

“Woah, be careful Miss MacDougal. No need to overtax yourself.”

Morag pushes the man’s hand away gently, continuing to sit up

“Morag,” Hermione greets.

“Hermione?” Morag asks, turning to find the girl looking back at her from a bed across the room

“Are Harry and Justin ok? Are you ok?”

Hermione nods.

“You are all going to recover nicely,” the man says. “Heir Potter will require some physical therapy, but I’ve been told that if anyone can handle it, it’s him.”

Morag nods.

“I’m Consort Jared Fawley, your healer,” the man greets.

“Fawley? Like Gemma?”

Jared nods. “My daughter.”

“Oh well then thank her for me, will you? I don’t remember much from after I got the shit swung out of me, but I know she was there.”

Jared smiles at her. “Of course Miss MacDougal.”

“Hermione, where are your parents?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Politics.”

Morag scoffs. “Of course.”

“I’m going to go check on something,” Jared says, walking out into the hall where Miriam, Adrian Greengrass, Lady Agatha Clearwater, Emmeline Vance, Andromeda Tonks, and even Jared’s own husband are arguing with the director of St. Mungo’s. “I’m sure your parents will be here soon.”

Morag frowns as the man leaves. “What was that about?”

“Grey Alliance is fighting to get our parents here. I think they are courting us to join the Alliance. Or maybe they are just good people.”

“Ahh. That makes sense. Did you start anything without me?”

“A letter has already been sent to Rita Skeeter and Andromeda and Ted Tonks signed their respective contracts.”

“That’s all you’ve done? Slowpoke.”

Hermione glares at her friend, which almost has Morag laughing until her ribs start to hurt.

“We are gonna be ok, aren’t we?”

Hermione frowns in response. “I hope so.”

“Yeah, me too.”

________________________________________

November 2, 1991

Justin wakes up to the sound of quiet sobs and the feeling of warmth.

Justin’s snaps awake when he realizes that he knows who’s crying. Hermione and Morag.

Justin groans, struggling against the arms that are wrapped around him before he hears his mother’s coaxing voice and his father’s soothing words.

“Justin, it’s ok,” Baroness Hazel Finch-Fletchley says, stroking her son’s hair. “We are right here Justin. Your dad and I are here.”

“We’re right here buddy,” Wyatt Finch-Fletchley whispers. “We’ve got you.”

“Mom,” Justin cries, relaxing into his parents’ embrace. “Dad.”

Only later, once he’s calmed down, will he learn that Hermione was crying because their parents were finally allowed to come visit, and Morag started crying when Emma Granger pulled the girl into the Granger family hug when she noticed that Morag’s father didn't come.

Emmeline watches the scene with tears in her eyes as she sits by Harry’s bedside, gripping his hand tightly.

________________________________________

Bill snaps awake to the sound of shouting and explosions.

He whips his wand out, running into Anita as the two try to make it to the sound of the commotion.

Bill sticks his hand out to her, helping her up. “What the hell is going on? Are we under attack?”

Anita shrugs, clearly just as in the dark as Bill.

A pained scream fills the air, followed by a heart-breaking sob.

“Jacob,” Bill whispers, before rushing towards the noise.

What Anita and Bill find is certainly not what they were expecting.

David and Ivy are trying to coax Jacob to put his wand down, as Jacob makes quick work destroying boulders, anguish and anger both clear on his face.

“Jacob, please!”

Jacob ignores her, destroying another boulder as he yells out.

“What the hell is going on?” Anita asks her husband.

David shakes his head in answer.

“It’s Harry,” Ivy answers. “He was hurt. Pretty badly.”

“Worse than last time?”

“A troll crushed his leg.”

“What?”

Jacob lets loose another curse, destroying one of the few boulders left.

“Jacob!” Bill shouts. “Jacob put the wand down!”

“Bill, be careful!” Ivy yells as Bill starts to run towards Jacob.

Jacob ignores Bill’s approach, casting another curse.

Bill wraps his arms around Jacob, locking Jacob’s wand arm as he pulls the man close.

Jacob struggles for a few seconds, before almost collapsing against Bill as he starts to sob.

“Jacob,” Bill whispers, turning the man around. Jacob lets him, immediately burying his face into the crook of Bill’s neck.

But Bill will remember the heartbroken look on Jacob’s face for as long as he lives, even if he only saw it for a brief second.

“I keep failing him,” Jacob sobs. “I can’t be there for him and he keeps getting hurt! I can’t … why can’t I help him?”

“You are doing everything you can Jacob. You are there for him in every way that counts. In every way that matters.”

Jacob opens his mouth to protest, but just sobs instead, clinging to Bill.

“I just want to keep him safe.”

“And you will Jacob. You will. And I’ll help. We all will.”

________________________________________

Susan stares at the empty spot next to her where Justin usually sits and the end of the Slytherin table where Harry sits.

She bites her bottom lip and tries to focus on her food.

She knows they’ll be fine. They already were told that Harry and the other were going to be fine.

Merlin, Susan even got a letter from Hermione today, telling her that they were all fine.

But Harry hasn’t woken up yet.

And even when he does wake up, he’s still going to have to go through physical therapy and spend months working on his leg to get back full mobility.

Susan turns to look at her friends.

Rolf has been the least visibly reactive to the whole situation, but Susan can tell that it’s eating at him. Rolf hasn’t said a word since Halloween, and the only reason Susan knows he’s not catatonic is because he’s still communicating with Michael through their bond, letting his best friend know he’s ok.

Hannah is a wreck. Her hair is a mess, and her eyes a bloodshot and splotchy. Susan wants to comfort her, but she just can’t bring herself to do more than hug her friend and whisper soothing words every once and a while. Hannah might have been Harry’s friend first, but now Susan is his friend and Hannah isn’t. Susan, who is barely hanging on now that four of her friends are in the hospital after getting attacked by two trolls. Susan doesn’t have the patience to offer Hannah many sympathetic words right now. So instead she just watches helplessly as Hannah slides further and further into the sadness and guilt that is consuming her.

Maybe Susan will be able to help once Harry is awake. But right now, she just can’t focus on anything. Can’t focus long enough to help Hannah, or Michael, or Rolf. She just can’t.

Michael is probably the worst. He’s not eating. He’s not sleeping. He’s barely communicating. His brother and Harry were both attacked, and Susan is pretty sure the only emotion Michael is even capable of feeling right now is guilt.

She turns to the Ravenclaw table, where only two girls have any sort of visible reaction to what happened to their housemate. Both Lisa and Padma are filled with worry, though Padma’s face also shows a good amount of guilt. Not enough, but a decent amount.

Susan looks at the Slytherin table. Tracey is nearly distraught with worry for her friend, and Susan can see the worry in Daphne’s mostly passive appearance, as the girl clings to her best friend and looks around the room with searching eyes every time she hears an owl chirp.

Theo, Harry’s roommate, is clearly fighting to keep his own panic and worry at bay, with little success as far as Susan is concerned.

But Pansy … Susan wouldn’t even be able to notice Pansy’s concern if she didn't know that the girl was Michael’s cousin, and she didn't search for any sign of worry on the girl’s face.

At the Gryffindor table, Charles practically radiates guilt, just like he did after the first flying lesson over a month ago.

Susan sneers at Charles, who notices and turns away from the girl.

“Coward,” Susan whispers, slamming her utensils down. She gathers her things in a haste.

“Susan?” Megan asks. “Where are you going? You’ve barely eaten.”

“Library,” Susan answers. Hopefully some reading will help take her mind off her worries. Off Justin, Morag, and Hermione. Off Harry.

“But … we aren’t supposed to walk by ourselves. Not after what happened. I’ll join you.”

“Thank you Megan.”

Hannah opens her mouth to ask to join, but Susan turns away from her friend before Hannah can get the question out.

Later. Susan can forgive her friend later. But not now. Not with Harry in the hospital.

She knows it’s irrational. Nothing Hannah did led to Harry ending up in the hospital.

But Susan rarely behaves rationally when it comes to Harry.

________________________________________

November 3, 1991

Harry wakes up to the sound of chirping.

“Damn bird,” Harry mumbles, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

Hedwig chirps at Harry, and Harry can feel his owl flying off of him.

Harry coughs as he starts to wake up, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Harry,” someone says, relief clear in their voice. “Oh thank Merlin.”

“Aunt Emme?”

“I’m right here Harry. I’m right here.”

Harry can feel Emmeline squeeze his hand, and he struggles to squeeze her hand back in return.

“Hermione? Justin? Morag?”

“We’re all here Harry. We’re safe and healthy. We’re all right here,” Morag says.

Harry feels tears of relief fall down his face. “We lived?”

“We did,” Hermione says. “Because of you.”

The sob falls from Harry’s lips before he can even consider stopping it, and it’s joined by another. And another.

Harry can hear beds being moved closer to him, and can see Emmeline smile at him, trying to comfort him. He can feel Morag crawl into his bed, and Hermione grab his other hand, and Justin lay his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry doesn’t know how long he cries, so grateful that they lived. That all four of them are alive.

“You did it Harry,” Morag whispers. “You saved us.”

“We saved each other,” Harry disagrees when he finally stops sobbing. “We all did it.”

________________________________________

November 4, 1991

Michael rushes toward Cedric as soon as he sees his brother, practically jumping into his older brother’s arms.

Cedric catches Michael, thankful that his ribs are fully healed. He holds his brother close.

“Harry’s ok,” Cedric says. “Justin’s ok. They’re both alright. Everyone’s alright.”

Michael nods, letting tears follow as he buries his face into his brother’s neck. “Never stun me again.”

“Oh, absolutely no promises there.”

The Hufflepuffs swarm Tonks and Cedric, giving the latter a bit more room as he reunites with his stepbrother.

Tonks smiles at the gathered students. “I know you are all glad to see us, and worried about Justin and the others, but they will be alright. Morag and Hermione were almost ready to come back with us, but St. Mungo’s agreed they should stay with Harry and Justin until those two are done healing.”

“They’re ok though?” Hannah asks Tonks with tears in her eyes. “They’re going to be ok?”

Tonks sighs. “I’m not going to lie to you guys, it wasn’t pretty. All four of them … we are going to have to help Justin when he gets back. But those four are strong. They’ll be alright, with a little help.”

Tonks catches Susan’s eye from across the room, managing to untangle herself from the crowd and pull Susan aside.

“Madam Pomfrey wanted me to tell you that you are excused from potions tomorrow afternoon. Harry and Justin and the rest requested that you be one of the ones to visit them tomorrow, so after lunch, go up to the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey will floo you to St. Mungo’s.”

“But he’s ok?” Susan asks.

Tonks smiles. “Yeah. He told me to tell you that he’s going to miss this week’s lessons but that he’ll be ready to start back up next week. Do you know what that means?”

Susan nods, with tears in her eyes. “Yeah, I do. Thank you Tonks.”

“Of course kiddo. Hey, let me know if he needs anything. Besides those three friends of his, you are the only person he really opens up around. So just … keep me updated, ok?”

“Ok.”

________________________________________

Similar conversations are taking place in the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms, as Percy pulls Fay Dunbar aside and Penny pulls Lisa Turpin aside to tell them that they are also excused from their classes tomorrow afternoon.

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin dorms, Marcus and Gemma have gathered in the private dorms. Theo, after confirming that Harry was indeed recovering well, locked himself in his room to give the four a chance to talk.

Daphne and Tracey both stare at Marcus and Gemma, clearly wanting more answers than the two are providing, but Marcus and Gemma refuse.

“We’re not telling you what happened,” Marcus says. “It’s not our story to tell.”

Gemma nods, thinking back to Harry’s incredible feat of wandless magic.

It’s a testament to how much everyone that came to the “readers” rescue cares about Harry, that they all swore not to speak about Harry’s wandless magic once Hermione politely “asked” them too.

“It will get out,” Gemma warns Hermione. “If not now, then eventually.”

“We know,” Hermione says. “And we will deal with that when it happens. But until then, please don’t say anything. For everyone’s sake.”

Gemma has never been scared of a first year before, but the look in Hermione’s eyes was terrifying.

Those four kids were something else before, but now … they went through war together and came out the other side. Gemma will never underestimate any of them ever again.

“He’s recovering,” Marcus reiterates.

“But is he ok?” Tracey asks.

“I don’t know that anyone can be fully ok after what happened to them,” Gemma answers honestly. “But people can live with the trauma and grow from it.”

Tracey tenses at the meaning behind Gemma’s words, and Daphne quickly grabs her friend’s hand, letting Tracey cling to the comfort.

“We understand,” Daphne says. “Thank you, for saving him. For doing what we couldn’t.”

The unsaid “yet” lingers in the air.

Tracey and Daphne both look determined.

Gemma smiles. Good, they’ll need it.

________________________________________

Rita Skeeter doesn’t know quite what to expect when she steps into the recovery wing of St. Mungo’s.

All she, or anyone else for that matter, knows about the incident that took place on Halloween is that two Mountain Trolls managed to make their way into Hogwarts, and a number of students, including the newly rediscovered Heir Potter, were injured.

So imagine Rita’s surprise when she is invited to Heir Potter’s hospital room to interview him and others that were injured about the incident.

She’s expecting a collection of scared students, which will allow Rita to swoop in and pick up every single detail about the event in order to get the juiciest story possible.

What she finds is four first years staring at her from the second she enters the room, with solicitor Andromeda Tonks by her side.

She was expecting to be the predator, searching for a story and pouncing on it.

What she finds instead is that she’s the prey.

“Hello Miss Skeeter. I am Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. These are my friends, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, Miss Granger, and Miss MacDougal, as well as our solicitor, Mrs. Andromeda Tonks. Would you please take a seat?”

Rita nods, moving to pull out her notepad and quick-quote quill.

Suddenly, a snowy owl flies into the room, snatching the quick-quote quill away from Rita and handing it to Harry.

“Thank you Hedwig,” Harry says, smiling at the bird and petting her affectionately. “Miss Skeeter, we are happy to give you this exclusive story and you can make the story as sensational as you wish, but please, don’t use this quill or we will have to ask you to leave. We have been warned beforehand about your tactics.”

Andromeda glares at Rita and Rita gulps. She remembers Andromeda from her time at Hogwarts, as a Slytherin. She has always been someone that Rita has not wanted to piss off.

“Of course Heir Potter,” Rita apologizes. “My mistake.”

Harry smiles, gesturing for Hedwig to return the quill. Rita takes it hesitantly, shoving it back into her bag.

“Now, where were we?”

________________________________________

November 5, 1991

Harry cries out as he starts to fall to the floor, Justin catching him before he can.

Hermione and Morag both race to Harry’s side, whispering encouraging words. Harry smiles at his friends, starting to stand back up, using the bars on either side of him.

Harry’s right leg starts to shake as he puts a bit more weight on it, grunting as he manages to move his leg forward, taking a small step.

Harry takes a few more shaky steps, still using the bars on either side to support himself, but it’s definitely progress.

“Congratulations Heir Potter,” Cedar says, smiling at the boy. “This is really good progress.”

Harry frowns at the man. “Really?”

“Really,” Cedar nods. “Usually it takes a few days for someone to take their first steps after we replace a full limb. I think you’ll be back to normal in a few months if you continue at this rate.”

Harry smiles at his friends, who all beam at him in return. Justin and Morag both help lead Harry to one of the chairs, so he can take a break before continuing.

Cedar turns to leave, to give all of the friends some time alone, before Harry stops him.

“Lord Parkinson, could you stay? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Cedar frowns, but nods, walking back over to Harry and the group.

Harry looks at his friend for a moment, and they all understand. Morag kisses Harry on the cheek while Hermione squeezes his hand before the two girls walk out of the room. Justin squeezes Harry’s shoulder, nodding at him, before following the two girls.

“I know that Michael is your nephew,” Harry says to Cedar. “And I need to ask you a question about Michael, if you are willing.”

Cedar ponders what Harry could ask for a few seconds before nodding.

“Do you care for Michael?”

Cedar’s face softens. He opens his mouth to answer, but Harry waves him off.

“Ok good. I was hoping you did.”

“But I didn't say anything.”

“Your eyes did. They told me everything I need to know.”

Cedar nods, prompting Harry to continue.

“Something happened between Michael and Catherine. I think you probably know a bit about it, after Cedric yelled at Catherine in front of everyone.”

“Yes. I don’t know specifics, but I know what Cedric said.”

He called Catherine a “child abuser”. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of options.

“Pansy and Michael have been exchanging letters for years,” Harry says, shocking Cedar.

“Really?” Cedar asks.

Harry nods. “Yes. And they are obviously at least somewhat close, though you wouldn’t be able to tell at first. Well, Catherine found out about the letters and she reacted poorly. She slapped him and then threatened to disown him.”

Cedar tenses, a wave of fury passing over him before he forces himself to calm down for Harry’s sake.

But Harry actually looks pleased with Cedar’s reaction.

“I have some firsthand knowledge in this particular area,” Harry admits, both shocking and horrifying Cedar.

“Heir Potter, what do yo-”

Harry raises his hand to stop Cedar. “No, this isn’t about me. This is about Michael. We can do something for Michael. You can do something for Michael. I’ve seen this before; I’ve lived this before. It starts like with little things, one slap or hit when they are really angry or upset. That’s always how it starts. But that’s never how it ends. So I need for you to end it, Lord Parkinson. I need for you to get Michael out of that house, permanently.”

“But … what can I do about it?”

Harry smiles at him. “The first step was making sure you were willing to help.”

Harry turns towards the entrance of the physical therapy wing, whistling loudly.

The door opens, and a woman, Andromeda Tonks, comes walking out.

“Lord Parkinson, please meet solicitor Andromeda Tonks. She has some ideas for how you might be able to get custody of Michael, if you would be willing to engage in a legal battle with your sister.”

“Lord Parkinson, please call me Andromeda,” Andromeda says, shaking Cedar’s hand. “I hope that we will be working together in the near future.”

Cedar nods. “Of course. Oh, call me Cedar please. But … is it even possible? Can I get custody of Michael?”

Andromeda nods, before turning to Harry who nods, whistling again.

Justin, Hermione, and Morag all come back in with a wheelchair for Harry, helping the boy unto it.

“Please consider it, Lord Parkinson,” Justin says as he pushes Harry out of the room. “I may not be Michael’s biggest fan, but no one deserves that.”

The four “readers” walk out of the room together, and Cedar can’t help but be impressed with how well they planned the whole encounter, down to the last detail.

“How exactly would we do this?” Cedar asks Andromeda.

“We have a few options, but the quickest one would require the most from you. Tell me Cedar, are you willing to declare Michael the Heir Apparent of the Ancient House of Parkinson?”

________________________________________

Hermione, Morag, Lisa, and Fay are all sitting on Morag’s bed, catching Hermione up on everything she has missed in classes so far this week, because of course that’s what Hermione wanted to know.

Susan swears that Hermione almost burst into tears when Fay handed the girl all of the notes she took in class since the incident.

Justin smiles at Susan. “Thank you for spending time with me Susan, but we both know the person you most want to see.”

“Justin-”

“Don’t apologize Susan, you’ve known him for longer. And I mean absolutely no offense, but if both you and Harry were injured, I would check on Harry first. You are still my friend, but Harry’s one of my best friends. And I think it’s the same for you.”

Susan nods. “Yeah, it is. But isn’t he exhausted from his physical therapy? He put up a silencing ward and everything.”

Justin rolls his eyes. “Just go Susan.”

Susan walks over to his bed, pulling back the curtain, only to find that Harry is still awake, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.

“Harry?” Susan asks, startling the boy.

Harry shoots up, wincing a bit at the sudden motion, before relaxing. “Oh Susan. I forgot that you all were coming today.”

Susan shoots Harry a small smile, moving closer to him. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing much. Just a little nightmare is all. I’ll … I’ll get over it eventually and then I’ll be able to fall asleep.”

Susan leans down, kissing Harry on the forehead and squeezing his hand. “You don’t have to get over it Harry. You are allowed to be scared.”

Harry stares at Susan for a few seconds before nodding, tears prickling his eyes. “I- thank you Susan.”

Susan nods, letting go of Harry’s hand and moving to leave. “Sleep well Harry.”

“Wait!” Harry says suddenly, reaching over and grabbing Susan’s arm. “Could you … I know it’s a weird request, but could you stay with me? Please?”

Susan stares at the hopeful expression on Harry’s face, and immediately makes up her mind.

“Scoot over,” Susan says, climbing up into Harry’s bed.

Harry does so immediately, letting Susan pull him close when she gets settled. Harry buries his face into the crook of Susan’s neck, and she can feel a few tears fall from Harry’s face.

“It’s ok Harry,” Susan says soothingly as she strokes Harry’s hair. “It’s ok. You’re safe. Morag is safe. Justin is safe. Hermione is safe. You can go to sleep now. You can rest.”

Harry nods as he clings to Susan. It takes several minutes, but Harry eventually dozes off, relaxing against her.

Susan leans over, kissing the top of Harry’s head.

“I can’t promise that you’ll never hurt again Harry, but I promise that I will do my best to help with that hurt. To help lessen it, to help you bury it and live your best life. Because you deserve it,” Susan whispers to Harry’s sleeping, peaceful form. “I promise to do that.”

________________________________________

November 6, 1991

Ted Tonks sighs as he looks down at his notes.

All four of his new patients are going to suffer long-term mental effects from the troll attack they had to undergo together.

Miss Granger is completely beside herself with guilt. She had to make the difficult decision to try to escape to save her own life and the life of Mr. Finch-Fletchley. An almost impossible decision, but one she made. She hates herself for being so ready to leave Miss MacDougal and Heir Potter behind, but at the same time she knows she made the best choice she could have given the circumstances. She is suffering with the complex nature of the decision she made, constantly throwing herself into her studies to try to compensate for her perceived failures and quiet the loud thoughts in her mind.

Personally, Ted thinks that Miss Granger made the best decision she could have possibly made. She not only worked to get herself and Mr. Finch-Fletchley to safety, but she also managed to save Harry by casting with her already shattered arm. Ted knows and has treated several aurors, and not all of them could handle themselves as well as Miss Granger did that night.

Miss MacDougal, on the other hand, is struggling with a level of paranoia far above the rest of the group. She has trouble sleeping, often awoken by nightmares that plague her sleep, and Ted is afraid that she’ll develop an overreliance on Dreamless Sleep if they aren’t able to get to the root of the problem. The girl is constantly looking over her shoulder, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop and disaster to strike. According to the girl herself, she has unique senses that almost seem to forewarn her about incoming attacks, but Ted fears this is just intensifying the issue rather than alleviating it. Miss MacDougal went into a battle with those senses constantly ringing, and those senses were the only thing that kept herself and her friends alive, but the attack also almost killed them. Now she’s terrified of her own ability, waiting for it to signal that her life and the lives of the people she cares about are in danger again.

Mr. Finch-Fletchley is an interesting case. Like Miss Granger, he has trouble sleeping. He has his wand with him, but unlike Heir Potter, he absolutely refuses to cast anything unless his friends are by his side. It’s almost as if he is terrified of his own magic, which is understandable given he himself cast the spell that injured him so severely. He’s also terrified of closing his eyes, after his brief medically induced coma. He was so sure he was going to die if he lost consciousness during the battle, that now he’s terrified of falling asleep too.

Heir Potter, like Miss MacDougal, also suffers from nightmares, but his nightmares only wake him about half the time. Other times he just thrashes and cries in his sleep until one of his friends wakes him or calms him down in his sleep. Heir Potter is possibly the most straight-forward case. According to the boy, his nightmares are plagued with alternate events of the night. Hermione being crushed by the troll’s club. Justin dying from his impact with the wall. Morag’s neck breaking when the club hit her. Even Harry being a second slower crawling away or Hermione not casting the spell that saved him in time. But both fortunately and sadly, Harry has a bit of experience with nightmares and is often able to fall asleep again once one has occurred, especially if he is sleeping with someone else.

And on top of all of the individual cases, all four of Ted’s new patients are suffering from a sense of paranoia different from Morag’s individual paranoia, but this one started back during Harry’s incident during the flying lesson.

They all seem to have this intense belief that if something can go wrong for them, it will. So they have dedicated themselves to preparing themselves for all outcomes. It’s not strictly a bad thing to be prepared for all outcomes, but Ted fears they are taking it too far, especially after the incident. It’s a common sight to see the four huddled together, whispering to each other and looking over their shoulders.

They also have developed a group mentality unlike anything Ted has ever seen. Sometimes they act more like one unit than for individuals, often having one person speak for the entire group without seemingly any discussion, and no one in the group questions what another member has said. It’s also extremely rare to see them without one another, and Ted fears that they'll develop a reliance on each other, but he also is worried about what will happen when they are forced to split up each night to go to their separate houses.

Ted sighs. He’ll definitely have to continue lessons while they are at Hogwarts.

________________________________________

November 7, 1991

Andromeda sits across from the four kids as they all huddle together on Harry’s bed.

Morag is sitting in Harry's lap, with both Hermione and Justin practically draped over the boy as they squeeze onto the small bed frame.

The four stare at her expectantly. Even Harry’s owl is staring at her, as she perches above Harry’s bed.

“You four were right,” Andromeda says. “They were originally going to split up to proceeds from the carcass of the larger troll between the four of you and the seven that came to you aid, including my daughter, while the smaller carcass was going to be used as potions ingredients for Hogwarts to use at their disposal. However, I was able to get with my daughter and the other six, and we were able to file an injunction. Hogwarts has agreed to purchase the raw ingredients from the smaller carcass, which will go to the other seven students, while Gringotts has purchased the larger carcass, and those proceeds will be split up evenly between the four of you.”

“How much?” Justin asks.

“Approximately 10000 galleons.”

The four students look at each other, clearly having a silent conversation with one another, but they all seem quite pleased with the number.

“Thank you Andromeda. Would you be willing to write a contract allowing for all 10000 galleons to be placed into Harry’s trust vault?” Morag asks. “He’s the only one with a Gringotts vault, and none of us want to pay the monthly vault fee for non-Nobility witches and wizards.”

“And then draw up another contract, allowing Hermione, Justin, and Morag to have access to the vault. Also, I need three new vault keys made.”

All three of Harry’s friends turn on him instantly.

“Harry, that wasn’t part of the deal,” Hermione protests.

“I don’t care. That money is yours too.”

“Yes, but you have more money in that vault than just the proceeds from the troll carcass,” Justin adds. “That money is just yours.”

“Your right, it is mine. Which means I have every right to give you all access to it.”

“Harry-”

“Morag, please just don’t argue with me. I’m not changing my mind.”

The three stare at Harry for a few moments, who stares right back at them.

At least until Hedwig squawks loudly at all four of them, knocking them out of their silent argument.

“Fine Hedwig, we’ll move on,” Justin says. “Geez, why did you have to take his side?”

Hedwig chirps.

“She’s a brat,” Morag protests.

“Well now she’s definitely going to poop on you,” Hermione says to Morag.

“Worth it.”

Andromeda stares at the four before nodding. “I’ll have the contracts to you within the hour.”

“Oh Andromeda,” Harry says. “I don’t know how much we’ll need it, but would you be willing to be our legal counsel in the future, if the need arises again?”

Andromeda nods. “Of course Harry.”

________________________________________

November 9, 1991

The four students rush out of Ollivanders together, with Harry’s and Morag’s new wand, and the best wand holsters available for all four, plus an extra one that Harry absolutely refuses to explain why he bought.

Professor Minerva McGonagall follows after the four excitable students, even Harry who is plowing along in his crutches, his leg still needing a few for days of work before he can move from the crutches to a cane.

Minerva follows the four to Flourish and Blotts, sighing when they reach the destination.

She should have expected this. Any other group of students would have headed towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, or even Quality Quidditch Supplies, but these four do have the unofficial title of “readers” so Minerva really should have expected this.

“We do have to be back soon,” Minerva says to the four students.

Harry and Morag both give Minerva the biggest puppy dog eyes, while Hermione and Justin just look genuinely upset with the prospect of not entering the shop.

“Oh ok, but you only have ten minutes.”

“Thirty,” Harry counters.

“Fifteen.”

“Twenty-five,” Morag counters.

“Twenty. And that’s my final offer.”

“Deal,” Justin says, before bending down and looking at Harry expectantly.

Harry shakes his head. “I’m fine Justin.”

“No, you're tired. Now hurry up.”

Harry rolls his eyes, passing his crutches to Morag as he climbs on Justin’s back, letting the older boy give him a piggy-back ride as they enter the bookstore.

“The article comes out tomorrow,” Hermione says. “Do we think Rita will do well by us or-”

“She better,” Morag interrupts. “Or else.”

Justin and Harry both laugh at Morag, who glares at the two boys in response, and Hermione once the girl starts to giggle.

“Let’s just go,” Morag grumbles.

The group continues to laugh for the next few minutes as they start to peruse the aisles.

Minerva waits by the front of the shop, trying not to blink back in shock as the group buys almost 300 galleons worth of books that all get quickly put into Harry’s library trunk to be organized later.

“Don’t look so surprised Professor McGonagall,” Harry says, a smirk on his lips. “Haven’t you heard? We read ahead.”

________________________________________

Dinner has already started by the time the four “readers” arrive.

Hermione and Morag are walking on either side of Justin, with Morag carrying a pair of crutches in her hands. Justin is carrying Harry on his back. The three muggleborns have serious looks on their faces, which quickly disappear when Harry smiles and waves at everyone who is staring at them with a dopey grin on his face.

“Hey, look everyone! We didn't die! Can you believe it?”

Several people chuckle or giggle under their breath despite themselves, which just eggs Harry on.

“Wow, tough crowd.”

The group walks to the Slytherin table first. Daphne and Tracey separate, and Justin looks at Harry for permission before the boy nods. Justin sighs and sets Harry down in between the two girls, kissing the top of his head and letting Harry roll his eyes and pull Justin down for a hug in return. Hermione hugs Harry, while Harry leans up to kiss her cheek. Morag hands the crutches to Tracey, before kissing Harry on the cheek and glaring at the boy when he ruffles her hair to her annoyance.

The three muggleborns hug each other before separating to go to their own tables. Justin takes a seat next to Susan, Morag next to Lisa, and Hermione in between Fay and Neville.

Everyone stares at the four for the next several moments as if waiting for them to do something else.

But they aren’t the first ones to break the silence. Marcus and Gemma leave their seats to join Harry, Daphne, and Tracey at the end of the table.

Pansy smiles thoughtfully at the group. It seems like the “readers” have chosen an Alliance.

________________________________________

“Are you sure this will work?” Cedar asks Andromeda as he hands her the signed paperwork.

Andromeda nods. “At least, it’s your best shot. The Dark Alliance will stand behind you, and if I’m right, the Grey Alliance will as well. You may even peel away a few votes from the Light Alliance.”

“So declaring Michael my Heir Apparent … that makes it a Wizengamot matter, right?”

“Yes. It’s the quickest way to secure custody and requires the least burden of proof of our part, which is good since only Michael and Catherine were present during the abuse, and it could quickly dissolve into a he-said, she-said event. Bringing it to Wizengamot should gain you custody of Michael during the next session, the 24th of this month. But I do have to warn you, this is permanent. You will not be able to disown Michael without cause or even downgrade him from Heir Apparent until either your wife or your daughter gives birth to a son. Are you willing to accept this?”

Cedar nods eagerly. “Yes. Whatever it takes.

“Cedar, if I may pry, why exactly have you not done this before? You clearly care for the boy.”

“I always wanted to, but Michael was Catherine’s son, and she didn't want that for him. I was always planning to offer him the position of Heir Apparent once he came of age, so he could make his own decision, but after what Catherine did … she made her choice and now I’m making mine.”

________________________________________

Michael has always been a light sleeper. Back in those early years, Michael’s mother taught him to wake up and be prepared at the smallest sign of danger.

So Michael isn’t terribly surprised when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

But he is surprised to find that he’s not the only one awake.

Michael hops out of his bed, moving towards Justin’s. He knocks on the frame of Justin’s bed, startling the boy.

“Jesus Christ!” Justin quiet exclaims, almost throwing the book he was reading across the room. “Oh Michael, it’s just you.”

“Yeah, just me. Can I join you?”

Justin ponders the question before nodding, gesturing to the foot of his bed. Michael climbs up, sitting across from Justin.

The two stare at each other awkwardly for a moment, before Michael opens his mouth to say something.

Only for Justin to immediately interrupt him.

“Harry still cares for you. You know that right?”

Michael winces as tears fill his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“You don’t deserve him.”

“I know.”

“It’s not anything personal,” Justin says. “I mean, I don’t deserve him either, but I didn't hurt him like you did.”

“And I will regret that for the rest of my life.”

Justin’s stony face softens just a bit. “I know you will. I think … maybe I’ve been a bit harsh.”

“No,” Michael insists. “I deserved it. All of it.”

“Yes, you did,” Justin agrees. “But, what happened to you Michael, that shouldn’t happen to anyone. Ever. You know that right.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No!” Justin interrupts. “No buts, no one deserve that. Ever. Ok?”

Michael nods. “Yeah, ok.”

Justin relaxes a little bit more. “I have a hard time sleeping after everything.”

“Do you get nightmares?” Michael guesses.

Justin shakes his head. “No, I just … I overthink a lot, about that night. I can’t get my brain to stop. And other things too, but-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Only tell me what you are comfortable telling me.”

Justin smiles at Michael weakly. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Have you tried singing yourself to sleep?” Michael asks.

Justin stares at Michael in confusion. “What?”

Michael blushes but launching into an explanation. “I read something about it once. Sometimes the best way to stop yourself from overthinking before going to sleep is to distract yourself by forcing yourself to focus on only one thing. Some people count or things like that, but I like to sing to myself. It forces me to completely focus on the song and before I know it, I’m out.”

Justin stares at Michael for a few more moments before nodding. “Thank you Michael. I might just try that.”

“Let me know if it works. If not, we can try to figure something else out, ok?”

“Ok,” Justin agrees, as Michael starts to climb out of the boy’s bed.

“Hey Michael, you didn't hear it from me, but don’t give up. Don’t keep pushing either, but if you stick around and are willing to put in the time and effort, I think Harry might just forgive you. Eventually.”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

“It could be a really long time.”

“I don’t care.”

Justin smiles at Michael. “Good. He needs people like that. A lot of them. Goodnight Michael.”

“Goodnight Justin.”

Michael starts to walk back to his bed, before turning around.

“Hey Justin?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever have trouble sleeping like this again, and you just want to talk, just wake me up and we can talk, ok? I’m a light sleeper so you’ll probably wake me up no matter what. And I can fall asleep super fast too, so don’t worry about me losing sleep. Just, if you want to talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks Michael. I … that means a lot.”

Michael smiles at Justin one last time before crossing the room and crawling back into his bed.

He doesn’t go back to sleep until he hears Justin start to sing.

________________________________________

Morag snaps awake with a loud scream, startling her roommates.

Lisa is by her side within seconds, hugging Morag and whispering soothing words into the girl’s ears.

“It’s ok Morag, you’re safe. Everyone is safe. Everyone is alright. You made it. You all lived.”

Morag nods, sinking into her friend’s embrace.

Lisa hugs Morag for the next several minutes, before slowly coaxing the girl back under her covers, holding the girl’s hand as she continues to whisper soothing words to the girl.

It takes almost half an hour, but Lisa manages to get Morag to fall back asleep.

Padma, unbeknownst to Morag or Lisa, is awake the entire time, watching the pair.

She falls asleep with the feeling of guilt festering in her gut. She was Morag’s friend, before she became such a coward. She’s no better than all of Harry’s friends who abandoned him during his first week of school.

Lisa squeezes Morag’s hand one last time before letting go and crawling back into her own bed.

Morag tosses and turns several times throughout the night but manages to stay asleep.

________________________________________

Hermione doesn’t even try to fall asleep, staying in the common room with a pile of books in front of her, intent on staying up until eventually her eyes close without her permission.

She is just finishing the first chapter of the first book, when she hears footsteps from both the boys and girls dorms.

Fay sits next to Hermione, and Neville in the chair across from Hermione, both with a book in hand.

No words are exchanged, but Hermione blinks back tears at her friend’s thoughtfulness as she turns to the next page of her book.

Percy Weasley finds all three asleep in the common room the next morning, Fay and Hermione stretched out on the couch, and Neville laying back in the chair, snoring loudly.

“We are going to have to get better cushions,” Oliver notes from behind Percy. “I’ll go call Angelina and Alicia down, and they’ll carry the girls to bed so they can sleep properly for at least an hour or two. Can you get Neville?”

________________________________________

Harry lies in his bed, clinging to his pillow and trying to stop the tears from falling from his eyes and the sobs from falling from his lips.

But he can’t. Every time he tries to fall asleep; he’s assaulted with imagery of Halloween night.

He can see the club strike Morag, and Hermione almost getting crushed by the creature, and Justin getting thrown into the wall from the force of his own spell.

He can feel a deep aching in his healed leg and the crushing sensation.

He can hear the crunch of his bones. Of Hermione’s bones. The slap when Morag connects with the floor and the crack of Justin’s head against the wall.

Harry buries his face into his pillow trying to cover up his sobs.

Harry knows he shouldn’t have sent Hedwig away to deliver a letter to Jacob tonight. It was stupid of him.

For the last week, Harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep alone even if he wanted to. Morag, Hermione, and Justin were all in the same room, and it would’ve taken an act of god to remove Aunt Emme from his bedside.

But now … Harry’s all alone again. Left alone with his nightmares and his trauma.

At least, that’s what he thinks.

The curtains to his bed fling open and Harry looks up in shock to find Theo staring down at him.

Harry opens his mouth to apologize for being so loud and waking Theo up, but the boy simply kneels down so his face is on Harry’s level and starts to stroke his hair.

Harry cries under the comforting touch, leaning closer to the boy.

“Hei- Harry,” Theo whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just sobbing as Theo continues to stroke his hair.

They stay like that for several moments before Theo removes his hand. Harry starts to protest, before he feels Theo’s arms wrap around his torso, lifting him up.

Theo pulls Harry out of the bed and into his arms. Harry is stunned. He never knew that Theo cared for him this much. Cared for him enough to do this.

But Harry doesn’t dare say anything as he clings to the boy.

Theo holds him tightly, walking over to his side of the room. He gently sets Harry down on his bed before climbing in himself.

Harry considers moving closer to Theo, but Theo makes the choice for him, pulling Harry close.

Harry lets his head rest under Theo’s chin, using the boy’s chest as a pillow. He relaxes at the feeling of Theo’s arms around him.

Harry keeps his arms locked against Theo’s stomach, but tangles his legs with the boy’s.

Theo takes it all in stride, just pulling Harry even closer.

“Heir App-”

“Theo,” Theo interrupts. “When it’s just the two of us, I’m just Theo.”

Harry nods. “Thank you Theo.”

“Just go to sleep Harry.”

Harry nods, letting the tension and the fear bleed out of his body as he lays in Theo’s embrace.

________________________________________

November 10, 1991

Hogwarts Troll Attack! First-hand Accounts from the Victims!
By Rita Skeeter.

I was recently given the opportunity to interview the four victims of the troll attack at Hogwarts on Halloween evening. As many of you know, one of the victims was none other than the recently rediscovered Heir Harry Potter, the twin of the boy-who-lived. Along with Harry, Miss Morag MacDougal, Miss Hermione Granger, and Mr. Justin Finch-Fletchley, all three muggleborn first years at Hogwarts, were injured in the attack.

The four students are quite good friends, and Miss MacDougal, Miss Granger, and Mr. Finch-Fletchley were actually only away from the Halloween celebration feast to help Heir Potter.

“It was hard to celebrate. I mean, it’s a celebration of the day I almost died. I know it was the end of the Reign of Terror, but it was almost the end of my life too,” Heir Potter told this reporter.

The four friends were on the second floor when the male troll came barreling towards them. Only through quick action and thinking on the part of the four bright students were they able to not only avoid being killed, but also briefly take down the male troll.

“It was awful,” Miss Granger is quoted saying. “Morag was the first to hear the troll’s roar and she managed to warn us all so we could dodge the initial attack in time. After that, I was able to remember that the exploding charm was able to stun trolls. It hurt a lot to cast it, but I was able to at least knock it’s club away.”

It is also interesting to note, readers, that Mountain Trolls are not covered until the second year of Defense Against the Dark Arts and the exploding charm is not taught until a student’s third year. When I asked Miss Granger about how she knew how to cast the charm, she had this to say: “Well, at school they call us all the ‘readers’ because we all tend to use the catchphrase ‘we read ahead’. Well, it’s definitely true.”

“Especially for Hermione,” Heir Potter added.

After Miss Granger managed to knock away the club, Heir Potter was almost stomped on by the creature, and Mr. Finch-Fletchley took a bold move to protect his friend.

“I still don’t entirely know what I was thinking,” Mr. Finch-Fletchley told this reporter. “I don’t even know that I was thinking. Harry was in danger, and I did what I had to do. So I cast the exploding charm, but I added maxima to the end to boost the power. And it worked, I managed to knock the troll over and save Harry, but I also blasted myself into the nearest wall, and even blasted Hermione back several feet since she was standing next to me.”

With the spell, Mr. Finch-Fletchley managed to prevent Heir Potter from being killed and briefly knocked down the smaller male troll, but he also severely injured himself and Miss Granger. Mr. Finch-Fletchley managed to break his right arm, fracture his left leg in several places, crack several ribs, and give himself a severe concussion as well as numerous other fractures and bruises. Miss Granger suffered from a shattered right arm and several cracked ribs from her own fall.

“After that, Harry and I knew that Justin was down for the count,” Miss MacDougal recounts. “And Hermione was injured as well. We thought we could all escape, but that’s when the second bigger, female troll showed up. And she was mated to the male troll, which made her even more dangerous.”

“I remember yelling at Hermione to grab Justin and run away,” Heir Potter told this report. “She was injured and Justin was crying and could barely keep his eyes open. It was … I’ll never forget it. That was the moment that Morag and I decided to stay behind, to buy Hermione and Justin time to possibly escape or for help to arrive. That was the moment that Morag and I decided we would die for Hermione and Justin.”

You heard that right readers. Heir Potter and Miss MacDougal were not only willing but fully expecting to die to protect their two injured friends. Neither student was sorted into Gryffindor, but it’s clear that both have courage in spades.

“We casted exploding charms at the troll, but it was useless,” Miss MacDougal recounts. “Nothing phased the fazed the troll. So we focused on dodging for as long as we could to buy time. But when I noticed that troll swinging her club at Harry, I knew I had to do something.”

And the something Miss MacDougal did was hurl herself in front of Heir Potter, getting struck by the club and flung across the hall, breaking several bones including left arm and leg and several ribs.

“It was awful, seeing Morag laying on the ground like that,” Heir Potter recounts. “She was so … lifeless. I thought she was dead.”

Heir Potter had to take a break at this point, getting overwhelmed by his memories of the events.

“Harry was knocked back too, and he fell on the floor. He hit his head on the ground in the process, and by the time he regained his senses the troll … it stomped on him. On his leg,” Miss Granger told this reporter. “His scream … I’ll never forget that sound.”

Heir Potter’s leg was indeed crushed, severely. It was unsalvageable, and the healers at St. Mungo’s had to remove it and regrow Heir Potter a new leg. Heir Potter is several days into his physical therapy and progressing well, though as anyone with any experience losing and regaining a limb knows, it is a long process to regain full mobility.

“It was going to stomp on me again,” Heir Potter recounts. “It was going to kill me. But Hermione, she managed to levitate me away with her broken arm and cast another exploding charm at the troll to stun it even with her already broken arm. After that, I knew it was up to me. Morag was unconscious, Justin was struggling to even move, and Hermione was practically carrying Justin with her one good arm. So I did the only thing I could do. I cast the shield charm above myself and Morag. And I held it until my wand actually exploded. It felt like my entire body was on fire, and at that point I thought it was over, that Morag and I were dead, but that’s when they arrived.”

And by “they” Heir Potter is referring to a group of seven brave older students who rushed to save the group of first-years, arriving just in time and protecting the students long enough for the professors to arrive.

The seven students include seventh year Hufflepuff Miss Nymphadora Tonks, sixth year Slytherin prefect Heir Apparent Gemma Fawley, fifth year Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Heir Apparent Oliver Wood, fifth year Slytherin Quidditch Captain Heir Apparent Marcus Flint, fifth year Ravenclaw prefect Heir Apparent Penelope Clearwater, fifth year Gryffindor prefect Heir Percy Weasley, and third year Heir Apparent Cedric Diggory.

“They saved our lives,” Mr. Finch-Fletchley told this reporter. “Without them, we would be dead. Gemma and Tonks broke both their arms to stun the trolls long enough for the professors to arrive, and Penny, Percy, Oliver, Marcus, and Cedric literally ran into danger to pull us to safety. They saved our lives.”

It was only because of these seven students and the quick thinking of the four victims that the night didn't end in disaster.

“I will always remember that night,” Heir Potter told this reporter. “It was the worst night of my life, but it could have been so much worse. I’m grateful for the fact that we all lived and will fully recover, but I don’t know if I feel safe at Hogwarts anymore. I thought Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place in Britain, yet my friends and I almost died. And I haven’t heard about any extra precautions the school is taking as a result of the attack. I love Hogwarts, but I want to feel safe in my school. I want to feel that my friends are safe.”

This reporter wonders what the Hogwarts is intending to do about their obviously lax security. Next week we will be taking an in-depth look at the safety precautions at Hogwarts and sitting down with ward expert, Lord Tiberius Nott, to ask “is Hogwarts really safe?”.

________________________________________

Daphne, Marcus, Tracey, and Gemma walk into the meeting room for the Grey Alliance, expecting to be the first ones to arrive.

They were wrong.

Harry is sitting on one of the couches, arms stretched out along the back of the couch and his posture is relaxed, but it’s clear that can change in an instant.

Morag is laying in Harry’s lap, playing with the hem of Harry’s robe, a devilish smirk on her face.

Hermione is sitting on the other end of the couch, her legs pulled up next to her and a book in her hand as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Justin is sitting on the ground in front of the group, leaning forward, clearly ready to act as a physical barrier between the three people sitting behind him and anyone or anything wanting to harm them.

Daphne resists the urge to shiver as she stares at the group. It’s not their posture, their organization, or the fact that they arrived so early, but the look in their eyes.

It’s a look she’s familiar with. She’s seen it in both her godparents’ eyes, Aunt Marietta and Uncle Jacob.

They both fought on the frontline during the Reign of Terror.

It’s the look someone gets when they’ve gone to war and walked out the other side, alive against all odds but far from unscathed.

And it terrifies Daphne.

Chapter Text

November 10, 1991

Dumbledore growls as he slams the Daily Prophet down onto his desk, the paper sizzling and burning at the edges.

Fawkes chirps at Dumbledore, clearly amused.

“Oh shut it. Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

Fawkes just chirps sarcastically in response, which does little to ease Dumbledore’s anger.

That boy. He’s been a pain since the day he was born. Both of them, but at least he managed to make use of the other one.

But Harry … Dumbledore always knew that during his return the Wizarding World would experience growing pains. The boy was too much. Too clever. Too powerful. Too full of both love and hate.

Dumbledore was hoping for a little more time before those growing pains started appearing, but it’s no matter. At the end of the day, the Wizarding World will be stronger for Harry’s sacrifice.

But for now, Dumbledore has to mitigate the damage the boy has caused.

What an annoyance. If only Lily could have been a bit more specific, they could have avoided this entire incident.

________________________________________

November 11, 1991

“Hey Granger, what the hell were you thinking with this article? Were you trying to ruin the school’s reputation?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. She wants to just ignore Ron and go back to her book, but the boy will continue to pester if she doesn’t answer.

“I was simply telling the truth Weasley.”

Ron glares at Hermione. “It’s Heir Weasley.”

“Then it’s Miss Granger, or have you forgotten your manners?”

“Ron just leave it,” Charles says, trying to pull his bull-headed friend away. “She was injured, she’s allowed to speak out about it.”

“She wouldn’t have been injured if she just-”

“I wouldn’t have been bloody injured if the school’s wards didn't somehow allow two fucking Mountain Trolls to come and attack me and my friends! But do you know what I would’ve been, if it weren’t for my friends, for all the students that came to my aid? I would’ve been fucking dead! My friends would have been dead. Harry would be dead. Your brother would be dead Charles! So why don’t you shut your fucking face Weasley before I shut it for you! Charles, muzzle your dog!”

Ron growls at Hermione.

“Wow, really making my dog comparison easy, aren’t you?”

Ron ignores the insult, ploughing right along like a train who hasn’t realized they’ve run off the tracks yet.

“And what are you thinking? Attending a Grey Alliance meeting? Muggleborns always attend Light Alliance meetings.”

“Obviously they don’t, or else I would’ve been there, but I wasn’t so your statement is obviously false. On top of that, I can do whatever I want. The Grey Alliance has welcomed my friends and I with open arms, unlike you and your friends. And unlike you, they never bring up my blood status. Very progressive of you Weasley.”

Hermione moves to stand and leave, but Ron grabs her arm before she can.

“Let go,” Hermione snarls.

“No, you wil-”

“I won’t do anything you bloody tell me to do Weasley! But do you know what I will do? I will give you an up-close and personal lesson of the spell my friends and I used to take down a Mountain Troll. I may break my arm again, but I promise you, I’ll break you too.”

“Ron, let go.”

“But-”

“I said let go of her bloody arm Ron!” Charles snaps.

Ron glares at his best friend, letting go of Hermione’s arm.

Hermione scowls at the boy, before turning to look at Charles. “Don’t bother visiting Harry to check in on him. He doesn’t want you around.”

And with that, Hermione exits the Gryffindor common room, her scowl turning into a small smile as she leaves.

________________________________________

“I still don’t know that this is the best idea,” Morag speaks up.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about it either,” Hermione agrees. “Why exactly should we do this Justin? Do we really need them?”

“No, of course not,” Justin says. “And neither does Harry. But you guys can see it. The way he misses them. The way he wishes they could be his friends again. Besides, they all come from Houses of Nobility.”

“Well-”

“Oh hush Morag, you know what I mean. I don’t need the technicalities. Michael will probably be an Heir Apparent soon anyways.”

“Probably but not def-”

“Morag!” Both Hermione and Justin yell.

Morag bites her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing, gesturing for Justin to continue.

Justin shakes his head in annoyance at his friend’s antics, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“As I was saying, they could be useful and Harry misses them. I mean, he’s just starting to let Daphne and Tracey back in, and he’s already happier because of it. I’m not saying that he’ll be ready to be friends with them anytime soon, and he definitely won’t be ready to forgive them soon, but don’t we owe it to Harry? Don’t we owe it to Harry to try to surround him with friends and people that love him, and will care for him, and will protect him?”

“Of course we do,” Morag says. “But are you sure these three are the right people?”

“We would’ve said that about Daphne a month ago,” Hermione says. “And now, she’s throwing everything she can behind Harry. She’s actually trying to be a good friend and help Harry. Whether you admit it or not Morag, we wouldn’t have joined the Grey Alliance if we felt that Daphne wasn’t going to support Harry completely. And things are better now because of that. Why not Michael, Rolf, and Hannah too?”

“Besides, they are friends with Susan so they must have some good qualities,” Justin adds.

“You’re just saying that because you had a late-night talk sesh with Michael and now you two have a bromance,” Morag says.

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Besides, Ted basically ordered us to spend time with people besides just each other so we don’t become detrimentally attached to one another, so this is like killing two birds with one stone.”

“Ugh fine. Whatever. I’ll go with your stupid plan. What are we calling it anyways?”

“The RSB, or Re-educating stupid badgers, plan.”

Morag and Hermione both groan as Justin laughs.

________________________________________

November 13, 1991

Morag is a bit surprised to find another first year awake as she walks through the courtyard.

She’s shocked when the mere presence of this first year, simply meditating as the sun starts to set, sets off what her friend’s refer to as her “spidey sense”, sending a shiver down her spine.

She must’ve reacted audibly too, because the next thing she knows Rolf is turning to look at her, and the alarm bells ringing in her head decreases to a dull buzz.

“Miss MacDougal? Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Morag stutters out quickly. “I’m fine I just … what were you doing?”

“Meditating,” Rolf replies.

Huh, maybe Hufflepuffs actually can lie. Not to her, but still.

“Ok sure, you can tell me later,” Morag presses on, startling Rolf a bit when he realizes she saw through his lie.

Morag is about to turn and leave when she gets an idea.

She already agreed to that stupid “RSB plan” and she’ll have to choose one of the three before too long.

Justin is obviously sticking with Michael, since the two practically spend every other night talking because of Justin’s insomnia. So that just leaves Hannah or Rolf.

Sorry Hermione, but Morag is taking the one with the muscles. She can have the blonde.

“Can I join you?”

Rolf looks a bit stunned, but nods.

Morag questions her sanity once again as she takes a seat next to the boy.

“So, you aren’t going to tell me what you were really doing, right?”

Rolf nods.

Well, she can at least respect the consistency.

“Why aren’t you sleeping like everyone else?” Rolf asks. “I mean, we do have Astronomy tonight.”

“I could ask you the same thing. But I won’t, since I don’t think you’ll answer. The truth is that I’m not sleeping well right now.”

Rolf’s face softens and he turns away from Morag. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to- never mind. You guys handled yourselves really well though. Mountain Trolls are dangerous. Their skin is pretty much impervious to most magic that isn’t self-destructive, especially for first years, but you four still managed to briefly take one down and then stay alive long enough for help to arrive. I’m really impressed.”

“Uh thanks?”

Rolf blushes, the redness even tinting his earlobes. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little invested in the subject.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, your family owns that reserve with all of the magical creatures.”

Rolf nods. “Yeah. The Scamander Reserve. We had some Mountain Trolls a few years ago, but grandmother made grandfather get rid of them.”

“Smart woman.”

“Yeah she really is.”

The two sit in awkward silence before Rolf breaks it again.

“If you’re still awake, why aren’t you with any of the others? I mean, I barely ever see one of you out on your own.”

“Therapy-mandated separation time,” Morag answers. “Apparently, if we don’t start spending a little time away from each other, we might become completely dependent on each other, and apparently we don’t want that.”

The other three are all probably engaging in their various methods of trying to sleep right now, so Justin is probably singing or talking with Michael, Hermione is probably reading, and Harry is probably crawling into Theo’s bed.

Morag sniggers at the thought before giggling.

“What?” Rolf asks.

“Oh it’s nothing,” Morag says, still laughing. “I just … I can’t believe the amount of people that fawn over Harry. I mean, I love Harry. He’s my best and first friend, and I’ll love him till the day I die. And I get it, he’s cute enough, smart, incredibly loyal to those he cares about, he’s a catch. But there’s an insane amount of people in our year that would jump at the chance to be with him.”

Rolf laughs. “Yeah, there certainly are. Michael for one.”

“Daphne,” Morag adds.

“Hannah. She’s got it bad, even after everything.”

“Tracey. And same thing as Hannah.”

“Susan.”

“Theo.”

“Wait really?” Rolf asks.

“Yeah, apparently he’s a great cuddler, but you didn't hear it from me.”

Rolf laughs. “Good to know? Oh, also Megan. She’s not as bad as the rest, but if Harry showed interest, she would definitely show it back.”

“Oh, if that’s the criteria we are going by, add Padma to the list.”

“So that’s 8 people that like Harry that we know of. That’s insane.”

“That’s like a fourth of our year,” Morag laughs. “For a boy who has yet to have his first kiss, he certainly gets around.”

“Ugh. I did not need that imagery. Most of my friends are on that list.”

“All of your friends are on that list.”

“Oh yeah.”

Rolf and Morag both laugh and continue to talk until the sun sets and the courtyard starts to get too cold for them to stay outside much longer.

“Um, thanks for talking with me,” Rolf says to Morag. “I don’t … I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” Morag agrees. “See you around Heir Apparent Scamander.”

“It’s just Rolf.”

“Nope. You have to earn that.”

Rolf nods. “Fair enough. See you around Miss MacDougal.”

Maybe the “RSB plan” won’t be so bad after all.

________________________________________

November 14, 1991

“It’s ok Harry,” Oliver says, holding Harry close as they both get on the broom. “I’ll be right here the entire time. Marcus will be flying right next to us just in case, and Percy and Penny are both on the ground to help if something goes wrong. You couldn’t be any safer. Ok?

Harry nods, leaning back against Oliver’s chest and tightening his grip on the broom.

Harry has lived through over a decade with Petunia and Vernon, the betrayal of almost his entire family, and a troll attack.

He can do this.

“I’m ready.”

Oliver nods, holding Harry close as they start to take off into the air.

Harry’s grip on the broom tightens as he leans farther back against Oliver.

Oliver places his hands just over Harry’s and his chin on the top of Harry’s head, practically embracing Harry even as he steers the broom.

“I’ve got you Harry. We’ve got you. You can do this.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I can do this.”

Oliver chuckles. “We’ll make a Gryffindor out of you yet Harry.”

“In your dreams Oliver,” Marcus calls out as he rises at exactly the same pace as Harry and Oliver. “You alright Harry?”

Harry nods.

“We’re just going five feet in the air today and staying for five-minutes, ok? That’s all we’re doing today.”

“Ok,” Harry nods.

Oliver and Marcus both smile at Harry.

It takes Harry a few moments, but he manages to relax just the slightest amount, letting out a little sigh of relief as a bit of tension leaves his body.

Oliver kisses Harry on the top of his head. “I’m proud of you Harry.”

“So am I,” Marcus echoes.

“We all are!” Penny yells from the ground, and Percy cheers in agreement.

And for the first time ever, Harry actually makes a good memory while flying on a broom.

________________________________________

Theo isn’t surprised when Harry crawls into his bed after they get back to the dorm, but Harry is clearly embarrassed because he settles down a few feet away from Theo.

“How was the flying lesson?”

“Good,” Harry answers.

“Actually good, or are you just saying that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Actually good.”

“Good. I’m happy for you.”

Harry lies down next to Theo, resisting the urge to crawl into his roommate’s arms. He doesn’t know how long he’ll last, but he’s promised himself that he’ll manage to sleep without Theo at least one night this week, and not cuddling with the boy is probably a good start to that.

“So in that article, Rita mentioned a Lord Tiberius Nott. Is that your father?”

Theo nods.

“Oh ok. Is he good to you?”

“Why the sudden interest?” Theo responds coldly.

Harry blushes, turning away from Theo in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Theo says. “I didn't mean to. I just … yes, he treats me well and he cares for me and he’s my closest confidant. He’s just really busy, between being the Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House and his job. After my mother died … he’s been more distant. He still cares, but I don’t know that he knows how to show that anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbles.

“It’s ok,” Theo says. “I still have it better than most.”

Harry doesn’t seem all that happy with Theo’s statement, but he doesn’t argue against it either, which is a success as far as Theo is concerned.

Theo frowns when Harry stays on the other side of the bed for the next several minutes.

“Hey Harry,” Theo says, turning towards the boy.

Harry turns around to look back at Theo.

Theo stares at Harry for a few seconds before making up his mind, scooting to the other side of the bed and pulling Harry into his arms.

Harry tenses at first before relaxing. He only said that he wasn’t going to crawl into Theo’s arms tonight. He said nothing about Theo being the one to pull him close.

“Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight Theo.”

________________________________________

November 15, 1991

“I still don’t understand this game,” Justin says. “Why does it have to explode?”

“Magic,” Michael replies

“That’s a terrible answer and you know it.”

Michael shrugs, laughing at his friend.

“But seriously, it makes no sense? Why would anyone want to play a game that hurts?”

“It wouldn’t hurt so much if you didn't keep losing.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Hey boys,” Megan greets as she walks over to where Justin and Michael are sitting in the Hufflepuff common room. “Can I join?”

“Yeah of course. Maybe between the two of us, we can actually teach Justin how to win. Or at least how not lose as badly,” Michael says

“Doubtful, but we can definitely try,” Megan teases.

Justin narrows his eyes at Megan before nodding. “You would get along with Morag.”

“Why thank you.”

“I mean this is the nicest way possible since Morag is one of my best friends: that was not a compliment.”

Megan smiles. “Sure it wasn’t.”

Michael shakes his head. “I really don’t understand girls.”

“Is that why you spend so much time with boys? Because I should tell you, Justin is definitely straight and so is Rolf, so you are 2 for 1 right now and that’s still a failing grade.”

Michael stares at Megan, mouth wide-open.

Justin bursts into laughter, taking several minutes to calm down as Megan continues to smile innocently at Michael.

“Was it something I said?”

________________________________________

November 16, 1991

“So, don’t get me wrong, I’m of course happy that Harry has a new leg, but I just don’t understand how they can regrow a leg? I mean, I never even saw him without a leg. How is that possible?”

“Were you unconscious that first night?” Tracey asks.

“Well yeah. I was on way too much Skele-Gro to be conscious.”

Tracey winces. “Sorry. But if you were unconscious that first night, you never would’ve even noticed. What, did you think that they regrew Harry’s leg on his body?”

“Are you saying they didn't?”

“No of course not.”

“What do you mean “of course not”, how else would th-” Hermione starts to say, before she almost runs into someone as Tracey and Hermione start to turn a corner.

Hermione quickly dodges, running into the wall and wincing at the soreness in her right arm from her still new bones. A normal broken bone would’ve healed by now, but Hermione’s arm was completely shattered, so she’s still going to feel it for a few more days at least.

“Oh Miss Granger, I’m so sorry,” Hannah apologizes profusely. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine,” Hermione waves off. “I’m fine Tracey.”

The brunette has been quick to hover over Hermione and the rest of Harry’s friends, not wanting to alienate any of them since she’s just starting to get back to a good place with Harry. Hermione figured that spending some time with Tracey would help the girl a bit, and Hermione could also probe the apparent healing expert in their year with questions. So, a win-win, at least in Hermione’s mind.

“Where are you headed, Heiress Abbott?” Hermione asks.

“Nowhere in particular,” Hannah answers. “I was looking for Susan, but I can’t seem to find her.”

“Oh, she’s with Harry,” Hermione says. “They are going over some notes from Transfiguration.”

“Oh ok,” Hannah says. “I don’t want to disturb them. Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course,” Hermione says, as Hannah turns to walk away.

Hermione bites her bottom lip as she considers her options. Morag already snatched up Rolf for the RSB plan, and Justin is sticking with Michael, so that means that Hermione will eventually have to at least try to become friends with Hannah, or those two won’t ever let her hear the end of it.

“Heiress Abbott,” Hermione calls out after the girl. “Would you like to join us?”

Tracey looks a bit confused by Hermione’s invitation, but nods, signaling that she’s fine with the inclusion of Hannah.

“Oh sure, that would be lovely. What are we doing?”

“Exploring the castle. Looking for good exit strategies,” Hermione jokes before she can stop herself.

Hannah and Tracey both flinch back at the implication.

Hermione grimaces. She’s been spending entirely too much time with Morag.

“Sorry, dark humor. It’s a defense mechanism. We were actually talking about how they regrew Harry’s leg, which I still don’t understand at all.”

“Well, it’s pretty simple. They take the old leg, peel off a bit of the bone, muscle, and skin, and throw it into a new potion, which grows the leg in about an hour, and then it can then be reattached.”

Hermione looks fascinated. “An hour?”

Hannah, on the other hand, looks like she’s going to be sick. “Really?”

“Yes. Also, the severity of the injury affects how well the person will adjust to the new limb. So, if it’s a splinching injury it’s fairly simple, at least in comparison, but with an injury like Harry’s, it can take months to fully adjust to the limb. I’m actually surprised that Harry is already off of the crutches and using a cane. Most people would still be in a wheelchair at this point, not walking.”

Hermione snorts. “Don’t be too surprised. Harry is incredibly stubborn, and he thinks the cane looks cooler. Plus, Justin carries him half the time and Morag even levitates him up the stairs because she thinks it’s fun. Which it is, but she doesn’t need to know that or else she’ll keep doing it even after Harry is fully adjusted. And he’ll probably let her, because for some reason he thinks it’s fun to be levitated.”

Hannah and Tracey both start to laugh, and Hermione finds herself joining them.

________________________________________

November 17, 1991

Susan is only mildly surprised when Daphne walks into the library with Harry for their Sunday lesson.

She’s been expecting this ever since Harry attended the Grey Alliance meeting last week. It’s expected that someone from Harry’s new alliance would help educate him with regards to his heirship.

“Hi Susan,” Harry greets, beaming at her in such a way that Susan can’t help but smile brightly in return.

Harry sets his cane down, sighing in relief as he plops into the chair and stretches his leg.

“How is the leg doing?” Susan asks.

“Better than it was yesterday, and even better than the day before, so I’m not complaining. Oh Susan, apparently Daphne said that she’s supposed to help teach me because I’m part of the Grey Alliance. Is that ok?”

Susan stares at Daphne, who stares back. Neither girl blinks.

“Of course Harry.”

“And that’s fine with you too, right Daphne?”

“Of course Harry.”

“Ok then. Should we get started?”

The lesson is perhaps a bit more awkward than usual, but Daphne and Susan keep the war brewing between them to small stares and glances, rather than overt or even noticeable gestures.

Harry seems oblivious the entire time, simply enjoying the lesson. He directs an equal number of questions to both girls and listens when either of them has something to say.

Neither Daphne nor Susan suspects that Harry has the slightest clue of what is happening between the two Heir Apparents of Most Ancient and Noble Houses.

At least, not until the end of the lesson.

“Well that was fun,” Harry says, with a smile on his face. He moves to stand up, stretching his leg and grabbing his cane.

Daphne and Susan both start to stand up before Harry gestures for them to stop, a smile still on his face.

“No, please stay. You two clearly need to talk. Because you are both my friends now. And I’m going to need both of you for something I have planned. So please, find some way to be civil. And I don’t mean find a way to pretend to be civil. I mean find a way to actually be civil. Please. For me.”

Susan and Daphne both falter as Harry stares at them with puppy dog eyes.

“Great! See you both at dinner!”

Susan and Daphne stare back at each other for a few moments, in silence.

Daphne can’t help but feel like she underestimated Susan. Until Susan cursed Heir Weasley over the summer, Daphne barely noticed the girl beyond the fact that they are both political equals. But now, Daphne can tell there’s something different about Susan. There’s a reason the girl remained loyal to Harry when all of Harry’s other friends faltered.

Susan feels like she underestimated Daphne’s loyalty. Ever since the girl was confronted with her mistakes, she’s made every effort to regain Harry’s trust. And she still has a long way to go, but Susan can respect what Daphne has done. It’s more than even her friends have done, and she still believes that one day Harry will let Michael, Rolf, and Hannah back into his heart, if they ever even left in the first place.

“If you hurt Harry again, I will make sure you regret it.”

“I understand. Of course. I apologize for my past actions, and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life, long after Harry forgives me.”

Susan nods. “Then I suppose we can work together.”

“Thank you Heir Apparent Bones.”

“Please, call me Susan.”

“Then please, call me Daphne.”

“Of course.”

“Then, should we go over my lesson plan and revise it so it fits with two instructors?”

“Yes, I think we should.”

The two girls spend the next two hours revising Susan’s lesson plan, and though the tension is still there, it’s noticeably less than before.

“Do you have any idea what Harry was talking about when he said he needed us for something he has planned?” Daphne asks about halfway through their revising.

“Not in the slightest. Should we be worried?”

“I don’t think so. But someone probably should be.”

________________________________________

Harry is only mildly surprised when Pansy pulls him aside after he leaves his lesson with Daphne and Susan.

“Oh, Heiress Parkinson, lovely to see you.”

“Call me Pansy when it’s just the two of us and cut the crap.”

“Very well. By the way, please call me Harry. I suppose this is about Michael?”

“Of course it’s about Michael. What is going on Harry?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Only a little,” Pansy says. “My dad is afraid that it won’t work out, so he doesn’t want to get my hopes up. But seriously Harry, you had a solid piece of blackmail on my and you used it to get me to do something I would’ve done if you just informed me what was going on, and then you went around me before I could even do anything. Do you even know how to blackmail someone?”

“Well, I did lightly blackmail my parents and probably will again if it suits my needs, so yes I do indeed know how to blackmail Pansy.”

Pansy stares at Harry for a second, before shaking her head. “Merlin, I really don’t understand you. You are either the least or the most slytherin person to ever be sorted into Slytherin.”

“I think it’s a little bit of both.”

Pansy blinks before nodding. “For some reason that actually makes sense. But that’s besides the point, Michael is about to be torn away from his family and he has no warning. We have to tell him.”

Harry sneers at Pansy. “Lady Diggory is not family to Michael, not after what she did.”

Pansy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I know that. I wasn’t talking about my bitch of an aunt. I was talking about Cedric.”

Harry’s eyes widen a bit in realization. “Oh … shit. We have to tell him.”

“Duh.”

“Hey leave me alone. I possibly got your family an Heir Apparent, cut me some slack.”

“What?!”

“Oh, so your dad didn't tell you about that part?”

________________________________________

November 18, 1991

The next time Morag runs into Rolf, Lisa is by her side. And Anthony is by Rolf’s.

Which immediately draws the two pairs together, whether Morag wants it or not.

Morag has been spending a lot of time with Lisa and Anthony for the last few weeks, and if she’s learned anything, it’s the fact that those two are like magnets. They are always drawn to each other.

“Your cousin is just as bad as Harry,” Morag whispers to Rolf.

“Now that’s just rude. Anthony isn’t that bad. He only has one person wanting to be with him, Harry has 8. That’s so much worse.”

“Yeah, but Harry doesn’t spend every waking moment with all of them while still remaining completely clueless. Maybe if Justin, or Hermione, or I had crushes at him, he would be worse, but we definitely don’t.”

“You don’t?”

Morag turns to stare at Rolf incredulously. “I just said that.”

Rolf blushes in response. “Sorry. just clarifying.”

“Ok,” Morag says, shrugging it off.

At least Rolf isn’t setting off her “spidey sense” today, like he was while he was meditating. But there’s that small buzz in the back of her head that makes her aware of Rolf’s presence.

“Where were you guys even going? Because Anthony is basically just following Lisa at this point, and I don’t know where she’s taking us, but it’s definitely not back to the Ravenclaw dorms.”

“We were just walking. Catching up. We haven’t had as many chances to talk since coming to Hogwarts, since we are in different houses.”

“Now that’s just a pathetic excuse Rolf. Harry, Hermione, Justin, and I spend tons of time together despite being in different houses. We practically live in Harry’s library trunk.”

“Yeah, well not all of us have that luxury. And you don’t have to compete with someone who is hopelessly in love with someone in their own house.”

“Not yet but maybe soon,” Morag mumbles.

“What?”

“Oh nothing. You bring up a good point Heir Apparent Scamander. I suppose I’ll forgive you for not making time for your cousin, since that is definitely a two-way street, and Anthony Goldstein has eyes for only one.”

Rolf snorts. “He’s not that bad.”

“Oh really? Hey Anthony! Watch your step!” Morag yells, without even looking up at the boy.

“Wha- Merlin!” Anthony yells, dodging the pillar he was about to walk into.

Morag snickers as Lisa grabs Anthony’s arm, pulling him closer. “You really have to watch your step Anthony. I wouldn’t want to lose you this early on. I need someone to keep my sane.”

“Love you too Lisa,” Morag yells after Lisa, as Anthony blushes out of embarrassment.

“You’re the reason I need someone to keep me sane Morag.”

“Fair enough.”

Morag turns back to Rolf, who is staring at her incredulously.

“What?”

“How did you know that Anthony was about to walk into that pillar? You weren’t even looking at him.”

Morag laughs. “A girl can’t reveal all her secrets, Heir Apparent Scamander. We need to appear interesting.”

“I doubt you have much trouble with that,” Rolf says before blushing just as deeply as his cousin. Now she can definitely see the family resemblance.

Morag just laughs as she and Rolf continue to follow their friends to Merlin knows where.

Morag is starting to hate the “RSB plan” a little less. She still hates the name though. Stupid Justin.

________________________________________

November 19, 1991

“I’m hijacking this lesson,” Harry says as he walks into the library on Tuesday morning. “Come with me.”

Daphne and Susan share confused looks, but both move to follow Harry regardless.

“Harry, where are we going?”

“Only to my favorite place in the entire school.”

“Which is?” Daphne asks.

“My trunk.”

Harry pulls out Jacob’s key when they get to the abandoned classroom, opening it and letting the two girls inside, before closing and locking the door behind them.

He pulls his trunk out of his pocket, unshrinking it and opening it, tossing his cane down and hopping down on his good leg.

Susan and Daphne move to help, but Harry waves them off. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this before. Are you two coming or do you want to stay in this empty classroom?”

Daphne and Susan don’t need more prompting, both following Harry down into the trunk.

Susan and Daphne both marvel as they step inside.

“No wonder you guys spend so much time in here,” Susan says.

“Harry, how much did this cost?” Daphne asks

“Years of emotional guilt with a dash of emotional manipulation on my part. And more than was in my trust vault before a troll tried to murder me and my friends. Now I think I could afford at least one more of these, not that I need it. As you can see, despite Hermione’s and the rest of our best efforts, we still have a lot of space to put books.”

Harry bends down, grabbing his cane, moving over to one of the newly filled shelves. He pulls out three sizable books, carrying them over to the reading table and setting them down with a loud thud.

Daphne and Susan get the hint, moving over to sit at the table with Harry.

Harry passes both of them a book.

“Harry, this is a book listing laws and regulations passed by Wizengamot,” Susan says.

“Yes.”

“Um ok? Why do you want us to read this?”

“Because I need your help. Both of you. If you are willing that is. If not, I wouldn’t blame you. This is going to involve a lot of boring and monotonous reading. I definitely don't want to do this.”

“What do you need our help with?” Daphne asks, already knowing she’ll agree to help Harry. She owes him at least that much.

“I need to know every law that relates to the families and homes of muggleborn students. I have some plans for this summer, but I need to make sure they are even possible.”

“What is this about Harry?” Susan asks.

“It’s no big deal. I just want to make sure some people are as protected as possible. Call me paranoid if you want, but a lot of those people were attacked by a troll a few weeks ago, so I just think it’s proper planning. So, are you two willing to help?”

“Of course Harry. Whatever you need,” Susan says.

Daphne just nods, already pulling her book open.

Harry smiles at the two. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

Daphne and Susan both smile back, before the three get to work.

________________________________________

Later, after the lesson, Harry decided to walk Susan down to lunch. Daphne had joined them initially, but she trailed off when she saw Tracey, knowing that Harry wanted to talk with Susan alone.

“Look, I’m sorry about pushing all of this onto you,” Harry says. “I know it’s a lot.”

“It’s fine Harry. I’m happy to help a friend,” Susan says.

Harry smiles at her. “Good, because you are one of my best friends. After Hermione, Justin, and Morag, you’re it … and that sounder way lamer when I said it compared to in my head. Sorry.”

Susan laughs, shaking her head. “You don’t have to apologize. I get it. The “readers” have been through a lot together. I’m happy to be in second place to them.”

“Go-Merlin, you really are amazing, you know that right?”

Susan blushes, turning away from Harry.

“No, it’s true. You are my only friend from before Hogwarts that has always stood by me. Even when it wasn’t easy. Even when it was really difficult. You cursed Ron after only meeting me once to defend my honor. You’re amazing Susan. And I’m lucky to have you in my life.”

“We’re lucky to have each other,” Susan replies.

“Oh no, I’m clearly the lucky one here. Besides, you know, the whole troll attack and new leg, but besides those things and the flying incidents and the family troubles, I’m really really lucky.”

Susan laughs. “Been spending a lot of time with Morag?”

“Well duh. And yeah, I guess the dark humor is rubbing off on me. I think it’s rubbing off on all of us. But Ted, he’s my mind healer, he said that that’s normal. Might even be a good thing.”

“I’m glad you are doing better Harry. Seeing you back in St. Mungo’s, I don’t want to ever see you like that again.”

Harry nods. “You really helped me that day, Susan. I … I really needed that sleep. And I really needed you there with me.”

Susan smiles at Harry, who smiles back at her in return.

________________________________________

“Hey Harry,” Cedric greets as he and Michael walk into the classroom Harry specified to meet him in yesterday through a note from Hedwig.

“Cedric!” Harry laughs when Cedric pulls him in for a tight hug, ruffling his hair before holding the boy, clearly looking for injuries.

“I’m fine Cedric. My leg is still ehh because it doesn’t want to cooperate all the time, but I’m fine. Everything else is healed.”

“Ok fine. But I’m going to keep worrying.”

“I have no doubt.”

Michael just smiles politely at Harry, not entirely sure why he was even invited to this meeting. Even though Michael has been spending more time with Justin, he’s barely talked to any other members of the “readers” including Harry.

“So, why did you ask to meet us?” Cedric asks Harry.

“There’s something I need to tell you two. I kind of did something.”

“Don’t worry,” Pansy says, as she opens the door to the classroom they are using and strides into the room. “It’s a good thing. I promise. But it affects both of you.”

Cedric and Michael both frown, wondering what Harry and Pansy could be talking about.

Harry looks to Pansy, but Pansy just shakes her head. “No, they need to hear it from you.”

Harry nods. “So, there’s a Wizengamot session this Sunday. And Michael, if you don’t already know yet, you are going to be attending this session.”

“What?” Michael asks, and Cedric’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I think Professor Sprout is going to tell you tomorrow or the next day, since that’s when the summons will be sent out,” Harry continues.

“Summons? For what?”

“Harry found a way to get you away from Catherine,” Pansy says, sneering when she says her aunt’s name.

“What?” Michael asks, clearly in shock.

“Really?” Cedric asks, a smile forming on his face. Ever since he learned what his stepmother did, he’s been trying to think of ways to separate her from Michael.

“Yes,” Harry says. “But Michael, you have to do something. And there are … consequences.”

“What sort of consequences?” Cedric asks, pulling Michael close.

“Michael, you wouldn’t be a Diggory anymore ... so you and Cedric wouldn’t technically be stepbrothers anymore. And, you wouldn’t technically be a Thorne anymore either. You would be a Parkinson.”

“Wait, Cedric and I wouldn’t be-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Cedric insists.

“What?” Michael asks, staring at his brother in shock.

Cedric’s face softens. “No, not like that Michael. You’ll always be my brother, no matter what happens. But I would rather you be safe than legally be my brother. I would give up everything to make sure you are safe. In comparison, this is nothing.”

Michael relaxes a bit, leaning against his brother, who tightens his hold on Michael in response.

“Of course you would still be brothers,” Harry says. “Nothing and no one can take that from you. What is being offered to you, what Lord Parkinson is offering to you, is a place where you can be safe. A home without fear and worry.”

“It wasn’t that bad. She only did it the one ti-”

“No!” Harry snaps, and Cedric and Pansy both have scowls on their faces from Michael’s words. “No, that’s always how it starts Michael, but that’s never how it ends. You have to get out of there.”

Tears start to fill Harry’s eyes as he continues. “You have to get away from her. Because it will get worse. That’s how it always goes. It’s just one hit when they are angry, but you excuse it, because it’s only the one time. And then one day, years after that first hit, you realize that was just the beginning.”

Michael pulls away from Cedric as tears pour down Harry’s face.

“You have to get out Michael. You have to get away from her before she takes something from you. Before she takes away a piece of your soul that you can’t get back. Before they take away your innocence, your trust, your freedom. Promise me that you’ll get out of there before that happens Michael. Please promise me. Promise me Michael!”

“I promise,” Michael says. “I promise Harry.”

Harry nods, running his shaky fingers through his hair as tears flow freely from every person in the room.

“I promise Harry,” Michael repeats. “I promise.”

“I heard you the first time,” Harry says shakily.

“I know. But I think you needed to hear it again.”

Harry nods, before looking up at Michael. Before he can even react, Harry flings himself at Michael, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy and burying his face in the crook of Michael’s neck.

Michael pulls Harry closer as the boy’s new leg starts to give way, supporting Harry’s weight.

“I don’t forgive you yet,” Harry whispers.

“Good, I don’t deserve it.”

“I really am sorry about what happened to you.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you too.”

________________________________________

November 20, 1991

“I guess I’m still a little bit in shock is all,” Michael says to Justin and Megan as the three sit out in the courtyard after their flying lesson. “I mean, for this to work, I’m going to have to completely cut off my connection with my mother, because she’ll definitely resist me claiming the heirship.”

“Michael, after what she did-” Megan starts to say.

“Yeah, I get that,” Michaels interrupts. “I really do. I get it. The day she … hit me, she stopped really being my parent in the ways that count. Between the two of you, Harry, Pansy, Cedric, Rolf, Susan, Hannah, and the rest of our house, I think I’ve had that practically beaten-sorry, bad choice of words-into me. It’s just, for a long time, she was all I had. My only family. Until I started writing Pansy and Rolf and met Cedric, it was just my mom and I.”

“You can miss what is gone,” Justin says. “As long as you realize that it’s gone for a reason.”

Michael pauses, turning to stare at Justin. “That’s … that actually makes a lot of sense. Thanks Justin.”

“Of course Michael. We’re here for you, whatever you need. Unless you hurt Harry again, then I’m gone. And you might be too.”

Michael chuckles. “I would expect nothing less.”

“So are you ready for it?” Megan asks. “To be the Heir Apparent of an Ancient House? It’s going to be a lot different then you are used to.”

“Pansy is going to help me,” Michael says. “I think I should be fine. The weirdest part is going to be having to attend the Dark Alliance meetings every month.”

“For now at least,” Justin says.

Michael and Megan both turn to stare at Justin incredulously.

“Hey, I’m just repeating what Harry said. Don’t look at me for answers because I don’t have any. Even if I wanted to keep up with what’s going inside his head, I couldn’t.”

________________________________________

November 22, 1991

“Since when have you been so good at potions, Fay?” Tracey asks the girl, as Hermione’s impromptu study group all sit together in the library.

Neville clearly isn’t surprised by Fay’s skill in potions, as the two partner together specifically so Neville doesn’t make anything explode during the class.

Hannah perks up in interest at the conversation, eager to avoid her homework for a moment or two.

“Always have been,” Fay says. “The Dunbars are known for being potioneers, just like the Dagworth-Grangers. The only reason you don’t notice me in potions is because Professor Snape avoids the table Neville, Hermione, and I sit at like the plague because Harry sits there too. So I just fly under the radar.”

“Plus, I’m bad enough to make up for Fay being good at potions,” Neville adds.

“Why does Professor Snape avoid Harry in potions?” Hannah asks.

“Professor Snape hates Harry’s father and used to be friends with Harry’s mother but decidedly is not anymore, which leads to a very strange dynamic between Harry and Professor Snape, because they both equally hate Harry’s parents, but Professor Snape also somewhat resents Harry for the qualities that Harry received from his parents, mostly his looks,” Hermione answers quickly. “Now, who are the Dagworth-Grangers?”

Everyone’s eyes widen as they make the connection.

“Well, we’re idiots,” Tracey says. “We’re referring to the Ancient and Noble House of Dagworth-Granger.”

“Wait, so there’s a House that literally has part of my last name in it, and no one thought this was information I should know?”

“I guess it slipped our minds,” Neville says sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” Hermione waves off, knowing she can’t stay mad at Neville for long. Not after the boy has spent practically every night this week sleeping in a chair in the Gryffindor common room to keep her company. “But could I be related to these people?”

“It’s possible,” Hannah answers. “It’s theorized that a large number of muggleborns are actually just descendants of squibs who were cast off or left their families. My mother actually researches it a lot, since she’s a muggleborn herself.”

“So, I could have family in the wizarding world?”

The four all exchange looks with one another.

“Yes, technically,” Fay answers.

“What do you mean ‘technically’?”

“You probably are related to them, but there’s almost no chance that the remaining Dagworth-Grangers will actually claim you as family,” Neville explains.

“Why not?”

“They are part of the Dark Alliance,” Hannah says. “And they are one of the more extreme Houses in that alliance. There’s only two members of the family left, since the rest died in the Reign of Terror, fighting for you-know-who. And one of those two is in Azkaban.”

“Wait really?”

“Not only that, but there was another muggleborn, just before the Reign of Terror, who was also descended from the family. She tried to get the family to claim her, and the Dagworth-Grangers practically bankrupted themselves to avoid having to claim her, changing laws to do so. They aren’t just blood purists, they are the definition of blood purists,” Tracey adds. “I’m sorry Hermione, but the best thing you can do is just pretend the family doesn’t exist, because they’ll do the same to you.”

“Oh,” Hermione says, clearly dejected at the news.

Neville and Fay both reach over to grab Hermione’s hands.

“It’s ok you guys. I guess I was just excited to have more family. I’ve always wanted a bigger family, but I’ll be fine. I’ve got everything I could need.”

And it’s true. Hermione has friends now, and a lot of them. She has Harry, Morag, and Justin, and she has the people in front of her, though she can hardly believe that she’s friends with Hannah and Tracey now. In a few more months, she’ll have bonds with her fellow “readers”, and she has loving parents. She even has magic. Hermione has everything she needs.

But part of her wishes her parents were able to have more children than just her. But part of Hermione wishes she had a brother and a sister.

But beggars can’t be choosers.

“It’s fine guys, really. Can we just get back to the assignment? I want to finish this tonight.”

“Hermione, he just assigned this,” Fay says. “And it’s not even due until the end of the month.”

“And? What’s your point?”

Everyone groans but gets back to work. Including Hermione, who has a smile on her face.

They’ll thank her when they’re done and all of their other friends haven’t even started yet.

________________________________________

November 23, 1991

Theo is a bit nervous, as he leads Tracey, Daphne, and Harry to meet his father, who is finishing inspecting the wards of the school.

He should really have invited a member of the Dark Alliance to come, especially to offset Harry, but in his year and house, the only acceptable member of the Dark Alliance is Pansy, which would have meant inviting Draco, and inviting Draco would have meant inviting the others.

No, Theo was not going to do that. Father will just have to deal with the fact that Theo’s three friends are all from the Grey Alliance.

“So, are they officially opening up an investigation into the school?” Tracey asks Theo.

Theo shakes his head. “Not yet at least. Not until they can get a vote passed through Wizengamot, which will happen tomorrow.”

Harry grumbles a bit at that, slamming his cane harshly against the ground as he takes his next step. “Sorry. Just … very annoyed by that fact, considering I have to do all this because of what happened.”

Theo, Tracey, and Daphne stare at Harry’s leg.

“Please don’t do that.”

They all look away quickly, offering quick apologies that Harry accepts easily.

“Today, father is just doing a small inspection of the wards so he can report back to Wizengamot tomorrow, as both a member and a wards expert.”

They all easily accept Theo’s explanation, continuing to follow the boy as he leads them towards the Great Hall, where they are meeting Theo’s father.

“Ahh, Theo,” Lord Tiberius Nott greets when Theo enters the room. The two don’t embrace, but they do smile at each other for a few moments before Theo remembers his friends.

“Father, these are my friends, Heir Apparent Daphne Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass, Heiress Tracey Davis of the Ancient House of Davis and Ward of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass, and Heir Harry Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Daphne, Tracey, Harry, this is my father, Lord Tiberius Nott of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Nott.”

Harry looks up at Theo in surprise when Theo uses his first name, but Theo just smiles at Harry in response. Harry blushes, turning away so he doesn’t embarrass himself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet all three of you,” Tiberius says. “I am so glad I get to meet Theo’s friends. Theo, this is an interesting group you’ve got.”

“We are all roommates,” Theo says. “It makes sense that I would be closer with them.”

“Yes of course. How could I forget that? Heir Potter, I hope you are recovering well.”

“Yes Lord Nott, I am. Still have a ways to go on the leg, but besides that, I am fully healed.”

“I am glad to hear it. Terrible thing that happened. I promise you; I will do my best to ensure that you get the answers you and your friends deserve. You have my word.”

Harry blinks back at the promise, and Theo, Tracey, and Daphne all stare at Theo’s father in shock.

“I- Thank you Lord Nott.”

“Of course. Theo, could I have a word?”

Theo nods, following his father to the other side of the room.

“They seem like fine friends Theo. I am glad that you have made so many.”

“Thank you father,” Theo says.

“Of course. They are just friends, aren’t they? You didn't mean to introduce me to anyone in particular today, did you?”

Theo fights against the blood rushing to his face. “No father, I just wanted you to meet my friends.”

“Ahh good. They are all fine friends. I was just worried that you might be interested in Heir Potter. With him switching to the Grey Alliance, he’s perfectly acceptable as a friend. He clearly has a good head on his shoulders if he’s willing to pull away from the rest of the Potters. But he brings a lot of attention, and not just because he’s the twin of the boy-who-lived. You know that, right?”

Theo nods. “Of course father. I understand.”

“I knew you would, Theo. I have to be heading out to prepare my statement for tomorrow. I love you son.”

“I love you too father. Have a safe journey home.”

Tiberius pulls Theo in for a small hug, and Theo resists the urge to burrow into his father’s embrace. He knows his father isn’t an affectionate man, and Theo thought he wasn’t either, before he came to Hogwarts.

Before he met Harry.

“Goodbye Theo.”

Theo walks back over to his friends, trying to do his best to keep a frown from forming on his face.

“I think that went well,” Harry says as they walk back to the Slytherin dorms together.

“Yes it did,” Theo responds, giving Harry a strained smile.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice as he smiles back at Theo.

________________________________________

November 24, 1991

Cedar walks into the Wizengamot chambers, trying to keep the anxiety he feels off his face.

He knows this is the best plan, but so many things could go wrong. Wizengamot could vote against Cedar’s call for Michael to accept his heirship against Catherine’s wishes, or Michael could refuse to accept his heirship.

But still, this is the plan with the least downsides, and it's the only one that can get Michael away from Catherine before Christmas.

So, it’s the plan he’s going with.

“Ahhh Cedar,” Lucius Malfoy greets. “Good to see you.”

“You as well, Lucius,” Cedar greets. “How is young Draco doing?”

“Very well, with your daughter by his side. She’s keeping him in line, I’m sure.”

Cedar laughs nervously, definitely not wanting to piss Lucius off today. Between Lucius and Narcissa, the Malfoy family controls 48 votes. That could make or break him today.

“Where is the lovely Narcissa today?”

“She is off speaking with Regent Eugenia Dagworth-Granger. What about your lovely wife? How is Delilah?”

“She is enjoying her vacation in France,” Cedar says. “We are expecting her back soon.”

Cedar almost tenses at the lie but manages to stop himself. It’s for the best anyways. Delilah much prefers the vacation home to the Parkinson Manor, and the occupants inside said Manor.

Especially, and hopefully, after today.

“Ahh, I see. I heard a little rumor going around that you actually have a matter that we are voting on today. Care to explain?”

“Just a family matter that requires a vote to guarantee the results I desire.”

“I see. Well, remember Cedar, you have the House of Malfoy’s support. We have to support each other, since one day our children are going to be married.”

“Of course. I thank you, Lucius, for your pledge of support.”

“Of course. You must bring your Heir and Heiress over for tea during the Yule break.”

Cedar’s eyes narrow. “We shall see, Lucius. Today will decide whether that is a possibility or not.”

“Of course. How presumptuous of me. I have to go check on Narcissa. Goodbye Cedar.”

Cedar watches as Lucius walks away, only mildly surprised that the man already knows what is happening. When you grease as many pockets as Lucius Malfoy does, you know everything.

“Please take your seats!” Dumbledore announces, signaling the start of the day’s events.

The first several hours are of little interest to Cedar. Mostly inconsequential votes that Cedar cares little for. He simply raises his arm in unison with the rest of Alliance. These votes always come down to the Grey Alliance and Lord Greengrass anyways, unless the Dark or the Light Alliances can pull enough of the Grey Alliance Houses to vote with them.

It’s only towards the end of the session that Cedar starts to perk up, in both anticipation and nervousness.

“We have two more items left on the agenda today,” Dumbledore announces. “Lord Parkinson, you have requested a vote on a matter of your House. Would you please stand and explain the nature of your request?”

Cedar stands up, fighting against the urge to vomit as every eye in the room turns to stare at him. A few people snicker at Cedar’s obvious discomfort at being in the spotlight, but they are quieted quickly.

Cedar was never good at being a politician. He’s a healer, but this is his responsibility.

He searches the room for a second, before finding the witnesses section. Both Michael and Catherine are being held in separate compartments.

Michael looks up at Cedar, which knocks the breath out of his uncle.

He looks like a Parkinson of course. He has the signature chocolate hair and strong jawline. But he also resembles his father, in the way he carries himself. In the way he smiles.

He looks so much like Jonathan.

“Lord Parkinson?” Dumbledore asks.

Cedar shakes himself out of his stupor. He can do this. He can do this for Michael. He can do this for the person his twin sister once was, before hate clouded her judgment and changed her character. He can do this for Jonathan, who wouldn’t want his boy in an abusive home, even if the abuser was the love of his life.

“My apologies Lord Dumbledore. Yes, I do indeed have a request that needs to be voted on. I would like to declare my nephew, Michael Thorne-Diggory, Ward of the Ancient and Noble House of Diggory, my Heir Apparent.”

Whispers start to break out throughout chambers as Cedar stands tall, above it all. Because he doesn’t care what they have to say, as long as Michael is safe.

“And why have you requested a vote on this matter?” Dumbledore asks.

“Simply put, I do not believe Lady Diggory will allow my nephew to accept my declaration. A vote by this body can overturn Lady Diggory’s decision.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore grumbles, clearly unhappy by this action. “Please bring Ward Diggory and Lady Diggory to the stand so we can confirm that the vote is necessary.”

Michael and Catherine both walk forward. Catherine starts to move towards Michael, but aurors keep Cedar’s twin separated from the boy.

In the front row, where all of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses sit, Amelia Bones can be seen smirking at the sight. It’s possible that her aurors were given explicit instructions to keep the boy and his mother separate. Susan does care quite a lot for her friends, and Amelia has no reason to deny her niece.

“Ward Diggory, do you wish to accept Lord Parkinson’s declaration and accept status as Heir Apparent of the Ancient House of Parkinson?”

Michael bites his bottom lip, almost turning to stare at his mother, before turning away quickly. He doesn’t need to look at her to know her reaction. He can feel her eyes burrowing into the back of his head already.

“Yes, I do.”

Several more whispers break out throughout the chambers before Dumbledore silences them.

“Lady Diggory, as sole living parent of Ward Diggory, do you wish to accept Lor-”

“No!” Catherine interrupts. “This is an outrage. Michael is my son! I won’t have him raised by a Death Eater.”

“Point of order!” Lucius yells, rising to his feet. “Lord Parkinson, like many members of this body, was proven to be under the Imperius Curse. Such allegations otherwise are detestable.”

“Furthermore,” Adrian Greengrass says, standing up, much to the shock of many members outside of the Grey Alliance. “Lord Parkinson does not have the symbol of a Death Eater branded on his body. I move that Lady Diggory’s words are stricken from the record.”

Dumbledore looks like he wants to argue but deflates under the pressure from both Lucius and Adrian. “Very well. Lady Diggory’s inflammatory language is hereby stricken from the record. Lady Diggory, please just stick the questions that are asked of you. Now, Ward Diggory, do you understand that by continuing to accept Lord Parkinson's declaration in spite of your mother’s objection, you will be essentially disowning yourself from your mother if the vote is in favor of the declaration?”

Michael nods. “Yes I do.”

“Very well. Now, does anyone object to Lord Parkinson’s request for a vote?”

Amos Diggory stands up immediately. “I object! On the grounds that my Ward is safest in the home of both his mother and I.”

“Very well. Your objections are heard, Lord Diggory. Does anyone second Lord Parkinson’s request?”

“I second the request,” Adrian speaks up, standing before even Lucius can. “On the grounds that Ward Diggory will never be truly safe in the home where his own mother struck him.”

Michael flinches back as the whispers from earlier are replaced by shouts and jeers.

Cedar bites his bottom lip to keep from smiling. He isn’t allowed to bring up the abuse during the vote, but that doesn’t mean someone else isn’t allowed to.

Cedar wonders who he has to thank for Adrian’s words. Possibly Miriam, since the two are coworkers and Miriam was there when Cedric spat on and called Catherine a “child abuser”. But there have also been rumors that the Greengrass family has been courting Harry’s favor, and Cedar doesn’t doubt that Harry would leverage that for Michael’s benefit.

“Order! I call order!” Dumbledore shouts. “Lord Greengrass, do you have any proof of your claim?”

“Beyond testimony from the abused himself, Ward Diggory, I do not.”

“Very well, if that is all, your claim will be stricken from the rec-”

“Point of order!” Lady Agatha Clearwater calls out. “Normally, I would agree with you Lord Dumbledore, but we have the boy here himself. I say that we ask Ward Diggory if Lord Greengrass’ testimony is true.”

“Very well. Does anyone object to Lady Clearwater’s request to ask for clarification on Lord Greengrass’ claim?”

“I object!” Lord McLaggen says.

“Very well. Does anyone second Lady Clearwater’s request to ask for clarification on Lord Greengrass’ claim?”

“I second the request!” two men shout at the same time, shocking the gathered Lords and Ladies.

Lord Mitchell Abbott, and Lord Newt Scamander, both men of the Light Alliance, are seconding a request objected to by one of their own Alliance.

It seems that the parents and guardians of Michael’s friends are perfectly willing to break away from the Alliance today.

“Very well, Ward Diggory, would you please confirm or deny Lord Greengrass’ claim that your mother, Lady Diggory, struck you?”

Michael looks around the room with tears in his eyes, before nodding. “Lord Greengrass’ claim is correct.”

“He is lying!” Lady Diggory shouts, as other shouts and cries ring out throughout the room.

“Order! Order! I will have order!” Dumbledore shouts. “Does anyone have any further objections before we vote on the matter?”

Amos opens his mouth to speak, but closes it from the joint glares from Mitchell Abbott, Newt Scamander, and Amelia Bones.

“Very well. We will now vote on the matter. All those in favor of overturning Lady Diggory’s objection to Ward Diggory being declared Heir Apparent Parkinson, please raise you wand now.”

The entire Dark Alliance votes in favor, including Cedar, Lucius, and all of the elected seats. A total of 188 votes.

Adrian Greengrass raises his wand, and the majority of the Grey Alliance follows, with only Lord Edgecomb not following suit.

But already, Cedar has a definite majority.

That majority only grows as the vote reaches the Light Alliance.

Newt Scamander is the first to raise his wand, followed closely by Mitchell Abbott.

Amelia Bones raises her wand a few seconds later, which is where Cedar expects it to end.

But then Lord Wood raises his wand, followed by Lady Chang.

And then, just as Dumbledore is about to call the vote, Regent Augusta Longbottom raises her wand, glaring at Catherine Diggory as she does.

“Very well,” Dumbledore says. “All those against overturning Lady Diggory’s objection to Ward Diggory being declared, please raise your wand now.”

It’s a pitiful showing. The majority of the power in the Light Alliance rests on the four Most Ancient and Noble Houses in the alliance, two of which already voted in favor. Without the Grey Alliance, there was no possible chance for them to win the vote without those two Houses.

“Very well. Lord Parkinson, could you please come down so we can complete the declaration?”

Cedar nods, walking down from his seat and moving to stand next to Michael. Catherine looks apocalyptic, but she is also aware of the two aurors’ wands trained on her back and that both aurors are under the direction of Amelia Bones, who is far from her biggest fan right now.

“Michael Thorne-Diggory, Ward of the Ancient and Noble House of Diggory, do you forswear your attachments to the House of Diggory and to the Thorne family?”

“I do,” Michael says, staring up at his uncle. Cedar smiles down at his nephew as he reaches out his hand.

Michael takes his uncle’s hand, wincing as the Diggory family magic leaves him, and he essentially disowns his mother.

“Michael No-Name, as my nephew, I, Lord Parkinson, offer you the Heirship of the Ancient House of Parkinson? Do you accept my offer?”

“I do.”

Michael winces again as the Parkinson family magic starts to fill him, though thankfully it’s just the first step of a longer process. The rest will take place over the next several days, when Michael is at the Parkinson Manor.

“I hereby introduce this chamber to my new Heir, Michael Parkinson, Heir Apparent to the Ancient House of Parkinson. Let it be known.”

Echoes of “Let it be known” sound out throughout the chamber.

Cedar reluctantly lets go of Michael and lets his neph-his heir get pulled away by the aurors and into a waiting room as he climbs the stairs for the final item on the agenda.

“Final item on the agenda,” Dumbledore announces. “Lord Nott, would you please tell us your findings after doing an inspection of the Hogwarts wards?”

Lord Nott stands up. “After during a thorough inspection of the wards, I found no evidence of weakness in the wards themselves that allowed the two Mountain Trolls to enter Hogwarts.”

“Very wel-”

“However,” Lord Nott continues, despite Dumbledore’s interruption. “I did find evidence that the wards had been tampered with by someone with access to the wards on October 31st, which allowed the two Mountain Trolls to enter Hogwarts as long as they were escorted by a figure of proper authority.”

Whispers once again break out throughout the chamber.

“It is, in my professional opinion, most likely that a member of Hogwarts’ staff purposely brought the trolls into the castle.”

Once again, the chambers descend into chaos.

________________________________________

After Lord Nott’s revelation, it was quite easy to create and pass a vote that would allow the DMLE to begin an investigation into the matter. It was a unanimous vote, as no one wanted to vote against an investigation into the safety of the school their heirs and heiresses attend. Especially after the last incident almost led to the death of four first years.

Discussions between members of Wizengamot run rampant after the day and several members seek out Cedar, but Cedar politely waves them off as he rushes towards the place where his heir is being held.

“Lord Parkinson,” Amelia Bones greets, stepping in front of Cedar. “Please come with me and I will take you to your heir.”

Cedar nods quickly, following after the stern and obviously very angry woman. Though, if Cedar weren’t so worried about Michael, he would be enraged as well, after what they had just learned.

“Your heir is being held in here,” Amelia says. “I have arranged for some aurors to go to Diggory Manor and collect your heirs things on your behalf.”

“Thank you Regent Bones. I greatly appreciate the gesture.”

“It is of no matter. You heir is close friends with my niece. It is the least I can do.”

Cedar nods, before entering the room. Michael is sitting, a book in hand, with two aurors guarding him.

“Michael,” Cedar greets.

Michael looks up, giving Cedar a small smile as greeting. “Hello uncle.”

Cedar smiles at Michael. He wants to do nothing more than pull Michael for a hug and never let go, but he knows he can’t. Not until they get home.

“Your heir is excused from classes for the week, so he can adjust to the family magics and his new home,” Amelia says. “You heiress will be sent home as well, to help your heir adjust.”

“Thank you Regent Bones, again.”

“Of course.”

“Are you ready to go Michael?”

“Yes uncle, I’m ready” Michael says, grabbing his book.

Cedar just nods, wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders as he guides them both to the floo.

Michael, surprisingly, doesn’t pull away from his uncle’s embrace. He even relaxes a bit but doesn’t lean into the embrace.

They are quiet the entire walk, almost making it to the floo. They are just getting into the line for the floo, which tends to get crowded after Wizengamot sessions, when a voice grabs their attention.

“Michael! Michael please, talk to me!”

Michael flinches back at his mother’s voice, burying his face in his uncle’s robes.

Cedar pulls Michael closer, wrapping both arms around his heir.

“Lady Diggory, please leave! You are destressing my heir.”

“That’s my son. Don’t tell me what to do!”

“He is not your son anymore,” Cedar growls. “Stay away from him.”

“Michael please! We can talk about this! I didn't mean to do what I did that day; I was just so angry. I promise, I won’t ever do it again if you just come home. Please Michael!” Catherine sobs. “You’re all I have left of him.”

Michael just burrows deeper into his uncle’s embrace.

“Lady Diggory!” Augusta Longbottom shouts. “Would you kindly shut the hell up and leave Lord Parkinson and his heir alone!”

“But he’s-”

“He is nothing to you anymore!” Augusta snaps. “And that’s no one’s fault but your own. Lord Parkinson, please take my spot.”

Augusta steps aside from near the front of the line.

Soon, the entire line is stepping aside, letting Cedar push forward and towards the floo. Even the man who was already inside of the floo, steps back allowing Cedar and Michael to enter.

“Thank you, Regent Longbottom. Thank you all,” Cedar says.

“Michael, I-” Catherine starts to cry.

“What about ‘shut the hell up’ do you not understand, Lady Diggory? Are you deaf or just daft?” Augusta snaps.

Cedar resists the urge to smirk at Augusta’s retort, and he even feels Michael chuckle a bit in response.

“Parkinson Manor.”

Cedar and Michael stumble out of the floo together, but Cedar manages to catch himself and Michael.

“It’s ok Michael. I’ve got you.”

Michael doesn’t show any sign of letting go, still clinging to his uncle.

Cedar reaches down, running a hesitant hand through his heir’s hair. “It’s ok now Michael. You are safe here. No one will harm you. I promise.”

Michael nods, and Cedar can feel the tears soaking through his robes.

He definitely made the right choice.

Chapter Text

November 24, 1991

Pansy bursts through the floo, dropping her trunk on the floor and bolting up the stairs when she doesn’t see her father or Michael by the entrance.

She makes it up to the second floor, when she hears the muffled sound of crying. She can hear her father trying to comfort Michael, most likely to little avail.

Not that Cedar Parkinson isn’t trying his hardest, but after the day Michael’s had, Pansy doubts much could calm him down. Especially considering the fact that Michael never actually met his uncle before today and only knows the man through Pansy.

The crying is coming from the one open room in the hallway, the guest bedroom next to Pansy’s room.

Pansy slows down, knocking on the open door.

“Can I come in?”

Cedar turns to stare at his daughter, smiling at her before looking at Michael for an answer. Michael looks up from where his face is buried against his uncle’s shoulder, nodding.

Pansy walks into the room, sitting behind Michael and wrapping her arms around her cousin from behind.

Michael takes a shuddering breath at the embrace, tensing at first before relaxing.

Pansy lays her chin on Michael’s shoulder from behind, as Cedar hugs Michael from the front.

“I didn't think-” Michael starts to whisper. “She lied. She said she didn't … I didn't think she would lie about it. I didn't think she would ever lie.”

Pansy tenses at the news, but her father’s face just softens as he stares down at Michael. He already knew.

“If she lied about that, what else has she lied about?”

“Oh Michael,” Cedar whispers.

“Did she lie about you? Did you kill my dad?”

Cedar tenses, a flash of anger crossing his face. “No Michael. I didn't kill your dad. I just … I couldn’t save him. I could have never hurt your dad.”

Michael looks a little confused by the statement, and even Pansy looks at her father in bewilderment. But neither of them press the topic.

“So she lied about a lot then,” Michael cries.

Pansy winces at the pain in her cousin’s voice, holding him closer.

“Michael-”

“I broke the bond to her. That thing we did, it broke the bond. Completely, it’s gone. But … it hurts. I didn't expect it … after what she did, I didn't think it would hurt this bad.”

“I’m so sorry Michael. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten you out of there sooner.”

“I didn't even know … I didn't even know I needed to get out of there. Not until I did something she didn't like. Not until I became her enemy.”

“You were not her enemy!” Pansy insists. “She was her own enemy. She was fighting a war with herself. She just got you caught in the crossfire.”

“And you will never be our enemy,” Cedar insists. “Ever.”

Michael nods, leaning into his uncle’s embrace.

“Thank you … for bringing me here. I know that I’m not really family, but-”

“You are family,” Cedar says, perhaps a bit too loud because Michael recoils. Cedar winces, lowering his voice before continuing. “You are family now Michael. You and Pansy, you two are my number one priority now. You are a part of this family. An irreplaceable part. Ok?”

Michael nods, tears filling his eyes again.

“Thank you.”

“No thanks are needed. Not between family. I will always protect you Michael. I won’t just treat you like one of my own, you are one of my own. As far as I’m concerned, you are my child now, just like Pansy, and I will care for you just as strongly and deeply. I promise.”

Michael stares at his uncle in shock, clearly not expecting this response.

“You are part of my family. Forever.”

Michael nods as tears start to pour down his face again, burying his face into the crook of Cedar’s neck.

Pansy clings to Michael from behind as Cedar strokes Michael’s hair.

________________________________________

November 25, 1991

Michael walks down to breakfast, smiling politely at Pansy and Uncle Cedar as he sits down with the two.

“Great, I’m starving,” Pansy says. “Dad wouldn’t let us eat without you. And you really need to eat because you had sleep for dinner last night. Not that either of us blame you. I think I was the only one who ate.”

Cedar stares at Pansy in warning, clearly expecting Michael to react poorly.

But Michael just laughs in response to Pansy’s statement, as his stomach starts to growl.

Pansy stares at Cedar, with a smirk on her face. Cedar nods, conceding that she knows her cousin better than him and he shouldn’t have been so quick to judge.

Pansy smiles through the entire meal, and Cedar just rolls his eyes at his daughter’s haughtiness. Michael smiles at the silent dialogue between the two, wondering if it’s like this with most parents and children. It is with Rolf and his grandparents, and Hannah and her parents, and even Susan and her aunt, but Michael never had that with his mo- with Lady Diggory.

“Michael,” Cedar speaks up during the end of the meal. “Here at Parkinson Manor, each of us have our own personal house elves. Mine is Tash, and Pansy’s is Lash. There’s one that has been training for an Heir Apparent of the house if you would like. If you don’t feel comfortable with that, it’s of course up to you.”

Michael nods. “I suppose that’s fine. What’s their name?”

“Dash,” Cedar calls out, summoning the house-elf.

“Yes master?”

“Dash, this is Michael. He is the new Heir Apparent of the family. You will be his personal house-elf.”

“Hello Dash,” Michael says, smiling at the house-elf. “How are you?”

“Very good master,” Dash says, smiling back at Michael in greeting. “Very happy to serve you.”

“Uh … thank you?”

“Have you not interacted with many house elves?” Pansy asks teasingly.

Michael rolls his eyes. “No, I haven’t. You should know this Pansy. I once told you that house-elves aren’t very common in MACUSA and mostly only used in businesses. Did you forget? Are you getting rusty?”

Pansy playfully glares at Michael, as Cedar tries and fails to disguise his laughter as a cough.

“Dash, would you please grab Michael’s letters?”

“I have letters?” Michael asks.

“Of course,” Pansy says. “Everyone at school was worried sick for you. I’m pretty sure you have letters of congratulations from half of Hufflepuff at this point.”

“Master, one of the owls refuses to part with its two letters. Should I direct the owl to master Heir?”

“Is the owl a snowy owl?” Michael asks.

“With a particularly sassy attitude?” Pansy adds.

“Yes master and mistress.”

“Please, send her too,” Michael says.

Cedar frowns at his two kids. “Do you know this owl?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael says. “Everyone at Hogwarts knows about Hedwig.”

“She has a reputation. She’s Harry’s owl though, so it’s kind of expected.”

“Ahh,” Cedar nods in understanding. “I did hear a rumor of an owl tracking down visitors at St. Mungo’s when Harry and his friends were at the hospital. So I suppose that makes sense.”

Michael and Pansy both laugh. Hedwig’s exploits are well-known.

Speaking of the bird, Hedwig lands on Michael’s shoulder, dropping two letters into his lap in the process. One from Harry and one from Justin.

Michael supposes that tracks. Hedwig is the unofficial owl for all of the “readers” at this point.

Dash pops in with a small sack, overstuffed with letters. “Should I put the letters in master’s room?”

Michael stares at the number of letters in shock.

“You can leave them here Dash,” Pansy answers for Michael, feeding a piece of bacon to Hedwig. “I would respond to Harry’s and Justin’s first, so Hedwig can be getting back.”

Hedwig chirps in agreement, pulling Michael out of his stupor. “Yeah, right. Thanks.”

Pansy and Cedar both smile at Michael, as he asks for some parchment and a quill from Dash, starting the process of reading and responding to the letters.

He’s not ashamed to say that he cries a few times when reading the letters. Hufflepuffs he’s barely interacted with are sending him well wishes and are glad that he’s safe now. Almost the entire Grey Alliance wished him well, likely Harry’s influence. A couple of Heirs and Heiresses from the Dark Alliance write to him too, quick to welcome him into their ranks.

Pansy and Uncle Cedar have to help him respond to some of those letters, but the others, the ones from Cedric and Rolf and Hannah and Susan and Harry and Justin and Megan and even Ernie, Michael responds to those on his own.

It’s a bit overwhelming, if Michael is being honest, but Uncle Cedar and Pansy are by his side the entire time, helping him with anything he could need.

Michael smiles as Uncle Cedar takes a letter sent to Michael from Lord Pucey, not wanting Michael to have to respond to the more technical letters, as Pansy drafts a thank you letter to Daphne Greengrass.

Maybe Uncle Cedar was telling the truth. Maybe he really is a part of the family.

“Hey Michael? Now that you live here and there wouldn’t be any consequences, do you want to bond?” Pansy asks.

________________________________________

Cedar frowns as the two aurors come through the floo, with empty hands.