DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!

A scrawny raven haired eleven-year-old boy who looked like he was nine walked with his eyes glued to the wonders of the recently discovered magical world. At least, recently discovered to him. He had always known that he was different but receiving the letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry all but confirmed it.

Of course, that glee had soon turned to ash in his mouth when his aunt revealed to him the terrible truth of his heritage. That he was not an orphan. That, all these ten years when he had cried himself to sleep, wishing that his parents were alive, that someone would come and take him away from his cruel relatives, were not only alive, but they had given him away to his relatives.

Relatives! How he loathed the word.

Why? He hadn't quite understood the reason. But then, he didn't want to listen to it anymore. All he knew, was that the parents whose faces he looked longingly at for hours in the album he found in the attic had abandoned him.

And so, when the letter came and the truth was revealed to him, his love for his non-existent parents turned to a boiling rage, akin to hate, at his now existing ones. And when aunt Petunia had offered to contact them for him, he had blatantly refused. He didn't want to talk to them now, or ever. His aunt though, in a very rare act of generosity, had given him fifty pounds from her pocket and dropped him off at the Leaky Cauldron, which she claimed she couldn't see but remembered where it was from when she was young.

And so, he had dressed in an overly large shirt that kept slipping off his shoulders, Dudley's trousers that had to be held a by Uncle Vernon's belt looped around his scrawny waist, twice and torn shoes, had entered Gringott's Wizard Bank to change it to wizarding money, which he learnt was called galleons.

Imagine his surprise when he was told he didn't need to convert them, as he had a trust vault in his name. But that surprise was nothing compared to one he got, when he was informed by the strange creature with pointy teeth, a goblin, that his Potter trust vault, was meant for his school expenditure. He could hardly believe that his parents would give him this much money.

But as soon as he said it to himself, he was informed that every child of a relatively noble house was given a trust vault, regardless of what their parents felt about them. It was something of a rule in family charters and whatnot. Harry didn't understand any of it, but resolved to find out as much as he could. His school trust vault contained around five thousand galleons, topped to that amount every year for the next seven years.

The real shock was when both he and the goblin were surprised, at the second trust vault that was apparently in his name. Of course, he didn't have access to it, as the goblins needed to investigate why he had access to it in the first place.

And so, he had exited the bank, all too aware of the looks he was getting from the magical populace. It wasn't his fault that his clothes didn't fit him, making him look even skinnier than he actually was. Perhaps he was too skinny because he was kept in a boot cupboard under the stairs for ten years of his life. Or perhaps he was this scrawny because he was fed only once a day, and that too, sparingly.

At least, he was beaten too often. He counted himself lucky. Only when Uncle Vernon had been drinking would he take out his belt and whip him. For tolerating his freakishness, he said.

Harry Potter had always known he was special. And the recent events had confirmed it. But he had gotten suspicious when strange things kept happening to him. He had turned his teacher's hair blue, by accident of course, when she kept insulting him, for his failure to answer a question properly.

Another time, he had ended up on the school's roof when he had been running from Dudley and his gang when they decided to play harry hunting. But it was definitely confirmed, when he had talked to the python at the London Zoo and vanished the glass to its cage, thereby setting it free.

And as he looked at the various shops, dreaming of what he would buy, now that he actually had money for the first time in his life, he felt truly at home. The shops sold everything from potion supplies, bat sleeps, eye of newts, salamander blood, brooms, wands, robes and there was even a shop for pets called Magical Menagerie.

Harry went through the list provided by his school meticulously and made sure he had gotten everything. He didn't know why he needed an owl, cat or toad, but none of them appealed to him much. He would have liked to have a snake, given that he could actually talk to them, but they weren't on the list.

And so, he forwent the pet. Its not like the list said a pet was compulsory. It only said, students are allowed one. The longest time of course, was spent in the bookshop called, Flourish and Blotts. Harry wanted to learn as much as possible about this world, his world, that he bought the school books and many more. Anything that caught his eye, he bought, given that the bags were charmed to fit all the books in.

For now, he postponed buying any robes for school, given that he was so scrawny he didn't look like he was eleven. Harry had spotted a healer's shop, with a sign saying nutrition and growth potions. He figured he would buy them after a month of said potions. Perhaps, they could also give him some potions for the welts on his back.

The last thing on his list, was of course, the wand. He didn't particularly understand why they needed wands anyway. But he was the most excited about purchasing his wand than he had been about anything on the list.

And so, he made his way to Ollivander's Wand Shop with the dusty, grey exterior with peeling gold letters over the shop, reading: Ollivanders: Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.

That seemed a little unbelievable to him. How could they have been here since the time of the romans and perhaps even Jesus. If Jesus existed, that is. But then, if anybody had told him about the existence of goblins and wizards a month ago, he wouldn't have believed that either.

Upon entering the shop, he was a little disappointed to see that the shop was shabby, if not more, from the inside than it looked from the outside. The tiny interior consisted of shelves packed with slender boxes, which he presumed were wands, a shelf containing books and scrolls and a lone, spindly chair, near the door.

The shop must have contained, thousands of wands, he wondered in awe. How in the world was he going to choose his wand from among so many? This was seeming more impossible by the minute. Not to mention, there was no shopkeeper there.

'Hello...,' he called out but no one answered. 'Is anyone home?' he called again, feeling slightly silly.

'Ah yes. I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Potter,' Harry cursed, and jumped, turning back to see an old man with silver hair, white wrinkly skin and eerie grey eyes looking at him. He was going to ask the man how he knew Harry's name but the wandmaker continued. 'You have your mother's eyes.'

Harry already knew that, having seen her pictures countless times.

'It seems only yesterday that she was in here buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.'

The man moved even closer now and Harry noticed that his eyes weren't as grey as he had first thought. 'Your father, on the other hand, favours a mahogany wand, eleven inches, pliable… a little more power and excellent for transfiguration.'

Harry had no idea what transfiguration was but since his list included a book on it, he presumed it was a type of magic. He wanted to ask the man if different woods were attuned to specific types of magic but the man went on. 'Well, I say he favours it. It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.'

He had now come so close that they were almost nose and nose as the man bent down, touched a long finger to his scar, covered by his fringe, 'And that's where… curious… I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and half inches, yew and phoenix feather. Powerful, very powerful.'

He shook his head, as if to clear it from the gloomy thoughts. 'Well, then Mr. Potter. Let's get started.'

A measuring tape floated in front of him, 'Which is your wand arm?'

Harry wondered if he should tell him that he was ambidextrous ever since Uncle Vernon had broken his right arm and he was forced to write with his left. 'I'm right-handed, sir.'

'Hold out your arm. Yes, that's it,' he measured Harry from shoulder to wrist; from wrist to finger tips; wrist to elbow; elbow to shoulder; shoulder to floor and round his head. While he measured various parts of him, he lectured, 'Every Ollivander core has a powerful magical core. We use phoenix feathers, dragon heartstrings and unicorn hairs. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two phoenixes, dragons or unicorns are quite the same, nor two people.'

As the tape measure flopped on the floor, Harry realised that while the tape was measuring him, Ollivander was flitting about the shelves, taking out boxes and piling them in his hands. 'Right then. Try this one. Beech and unicorn hair. Flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.'

Harry had barely complied when the man had taken it out of his hand, giving him another. 'Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches, whippy. Try …'

Harry had barely even touched it when it too was taken away from him.

'No, no. Ebony and unicorn hair. Ten inches. Go on, go on, try it out.'

Harry tried it out but again, the result was the same. He had no idea what was supposed to happen or what he was looking for. As the pile got larger, Harry grew more anxious by the wand and Ollivander grew more excited. Even giddy. 'Not to worry, not to worry. We'll find your wand here somewhere.'

'Tricky customer, eh. Not to worry,' Ollivander turned to look at him but not at him, at his scar. Harry felt a brush of magic in his head, but he might have been imagining it. 'Unusual combination, but yes, why not? Here. Try this. Holly and phoenix feather, nice and supple.'

It really looked like an unusual wand. Rather ugly, Harry thought. The base looked like a rough tree trunk and then the 'blade' was a lighter brown. He did see the anxiousness in Ollivander's step and the look he exchanged with Hagrid but chose not to show that he had noticed. Something was going here. That much was clear.

As soon as Harry picked up, there was a shrill, wailing sound, that hurt his ears terribly. If he hadn't dropped it because of it, he did drop it because it heated up and nearly singed his hand. Shocked, he looked up at the wandmaker with an apology on his lips, but he was looking wide-eyed at not Harry but the wand itself.

'Curious… how curious… Albus thought… Then it must be Alexander…'

Harry had no idea who this Alexander was but he had to ask, 'Umm. What's curious?'

Ollivander hesitated, seemed to be thinking of the right answer. 'It's curious that Albus was sure, and now I am tempted to agree with him, that the wand would go to Alexander, your brother. If it does, it would very curious, as the wand is the brother to the wand that gave you both your scars. The phoenix, whose tail feather resides in this wand, gave another feather. Just one other. 13 ½ inches, Yew... Powerful, very powerful. And If I had known what it was going out in the world to do…'

So, this Alexander was his brother. Harry felt a pang of jealousy and anger at him and it must have shown since Ollivander shook his head and went about collecting more boxes. 'Not to worry. We have plenty of wands here.'

It was a half an hour later, when they did, much to Harry's chagrin. He really didn't like his wand. Neither, did he think the wand like him… much. It felt like it was merely tolerating him. Ollivander shooed away his concerns when he told him, telling him he was imagining things.

'Curious… very curious. Well, well, looks like you take after your mother. Unusual but not unexpected …,' Ollivander trailed off, handing him the handsome light brown coloured wand, with a simple handle. All in all, it wasn't a bad looking wand.

The comment about his mother did bring up unresolved issues but then again, he had just found out that the woman had abandoned him to her hateful sister. He couldn't be expected to come to terms with it so quickly.

'Mr. Ollivander… why do we need wands?' he asked the man as he was wrapping the box in a brown paper bag. He really was curious, since he had thought that wizards and witches wouldn't be dependent of wooden sticks, rather like Gandalf, or Merlin or Morgana as in the tv shows. But then again, that was fiction.

Ollivander chuckled, 'we need wands, Mr. Potter so we can channel magic from our cores, to the cores in the wand, and then out, to get the desired effect. I presume you mean why can't we just use our hands?' Harry nodded, seeing as the old man had assumed correctly. 'Yes, isn't the magic inside us? Seems odd depending on wooden sticks.'

The man looked into his eyes as if seeing through him. 'Hmm... Well, wandless magic is possible but usually only for the most basic things. Such as levitating things or moving things but nothing as complex as charms or transfiguration or even more complex areas like warding, curse breaking or healing is possible without a wand.'

Harry nodded, and asked if he could get a book on wandlore. And that resulted in an hour-long discussion about the complex nature of wands and wand crafting. Harry left the shop, having gained a thoroughly satisfying lecture on the nature of magic, in the ancient wandmaker's opinion and why wands were needed.

Instead of going back to his aunt's house, Harry decided just to remain at the Inn for a month – just as his aunt had heavily implied. The month he had spent at Diagon Alley had been the happiest time in his life.

Not only was he properly fed, and a lot by Tom the barman, he had exercised regularly in the park nearby, and had grown a couple of inches with the help of the nutrition and growth potions the healer had given him.

He had explored the Alley in the first few days and spent the rest of the month reading all he could, his textbooks and otherwise, sitting in teashops and other inns. Harry had discovered another wand shop in Carkitt Market, called Wands by Gregorovitch. Apparently, he was the premiere European wandmaker who had retired and his shop in Germany had a branch in London.

His granddaughter, Mia operated the shop and was more than happy to assist in finding him another wand when he told her of his suspicions about his Ollivander wand. Shockingly, and surprisingly, when he had thought that he was making a mountain of a mole hill, she had agreed with him.

However, much to his chagrin, he hadn't been able to find another wand at her shop either. That was when she had requested her grandfather to come from their home in Austria. Unlike Ollivander however, the man with shaggy, grey hair and thick beard, hadn't tested different wands on him.

He only analysed his willow wand, listening to it as if it was speaking to him and had asked for a vial of his blood and left, with a promise of trying to find a wand for him.

That had been twenty days ago and Harry felt naked without a wand, since his willow wand was still in Mykew's possession. In return, the old man had gifted him several books he thought Harry should read, and a handwritten journal. Why the old man showed such kindness, Harry didn't ask. But he was honoured, nonetheless.

Two of the books were called on Occlumency, an art of blocking one's mind from intrusion and one on wand lore. Harry felt a little guilty about not telling him that Ollivander too had given him a book on wand lore but he didn't want the old man to take it back from him. Surprisingly, the European disagreed with Ollivander's opinions on wandless magic and had said so to Harry, even pointed out some spells in his journal.

The most productive day however, was two weeks ago when he had met the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with half of her head blonde and half of it black, dressed in a regal green dress as he entered the posh robes shop called Twilfitt and Tattings.

As he asked for help for robes selecting robes from the assistant, the regal woman had taken one long, scrutinising look at him, asked his name and taken it upon herself to help him. Even though he asked her not to trouble herself and that he didn't want to an inconvenience to her, she hadn't listened to a word of protest.

Although, the look of giddiness on the shop assistant's face, when he had asked for a whole wardrobe, had been a little disconcerting, he soon learned that his apprehension was justified. Mrs. Malfoy and Eve, had taken great, sadistic pleasure in making him dress in a plethora of clothes, from countless combinations of shirts, trousers, robes and cloaks. Almost as if they were playing dress up with a doll.

Although, that day had cost him a great chunk out of his trust vault, he could confidently say, that was the most productive day in the month he had spent in the Alley. Not only had she enlightened him on wizarding fashion, types of fabric and robes, but also on wizarding customs and traditions, Hogwarts houses, and how blood mattered in the wizarding world.

Not only that, but she had gifted him a set of books on wizarding traditions and asked him to owl her should he need anything else. He had thanked her profusely and could hardly imagine anyone being this kind to someone they met in a shop for no reason. He was sure that she had some ulterior motive, but he couldn't care less.

She had already cared more for him than his wretched relatives or his absentee parents ever had and that counted for a lot in his book. As he got ready for the morning to make sure that he got to platform nine and three quarters on time for the train, he was acutely aware of his lack of wand.

'Sookie,' he called out. Instantly, a female house-elf barely reaching his waist, large blue eyes and droopy ears, appeared before him. She had been another gift from Mrs. Malfoy. Actually, he had bought Sookie from her for a generous price when she offered to let him borrow Sookie until he got a house elf of his own.

'Yes, Master Harry!' she bowed so low that he thought her nose would touch the floor. And no matter how many times he had asked her not to bow, she adopted a look of horror every time and blatantly refused to show him such disrespect.

'Sookie,' he hesitated, wondering how to word the order in such a way that she would not start wailing yet again. 'Could you go to Mia Gregorovitch at the wand shop and ask her if she has my wand made?'

Her eyes bulged to double their size and with watery irises she asked, 'Master wants me to bring his wand? Yous will allow Sookie to hold a wand?'

And before he could stop her, she promptly burst into another fountain of tears as she wailed about how good, kind and great he was. He sighed exasperatedly. He really didn't want to be late. 'Sookie!'

'Yes, Master! Sookie be going at once!'

Harry shook his head, wondering how in the world would he able to calm her down. Deliberately dressed in muggle clothes, he went down to have a decent sized breakfast. Apparently, according to Tom, Hogwarts was somewhere in Northern Scotland and the train ride from King's Cross took most of the day.

He idly wondered where Sookie had gone and if Mia had been sleeping and felt a little guilty about unleashing his excitable elf on her this early in the morning. Sookie wouldn't let her lie down for a minute until she gave her his wand.

Chuckling at the thought of Sookie harassing the kind lady at the wand shop, he scanned through today's copy of the Daily Prophet that Tom had given him with his breakfast.

He growled in annoyance as he saw yet another picture of the family he hated, shopping in Diagon Alley. It seemed James Potter didn't want to go anywhere, even shopping, without at least getting a photo in the paper.

This time it was a picture of him, his wife, son and daughter shopping for Alexander's school things along with a short article by Rita Skeeter. The picture also showed the boy and his father, grinning like fools as he showed off his newly acquired wand.

Harry threw away the paper, not paying further attention to the article. It was only nearly ten, and he had an hour to go. Twenty minutes later, Sookie was waiting in his room, having already packed his trunk and warded it with her own magic as she handed him a letter and his willow wand. Apparently, Gregorovitch was having trouble finding a compatible core for his wand and needed more time.

Harry sighed sadly as started to lug his trunk down the stairs. There was nothing that could be done about it now.

'NO!' he was startled when Sookie took the trunk from his hands. 'Sookie will take Master's trunk.'

'We need to get to the platform, Sookie,' Harry replied, wondering if she can get such a heavy trunk. He need not worried as she levitated it and with a crack, she was gone.

Harry really needed to learn how to apparate. It seemed such a useful ability. Perhaps without the loud sound though. It gained too much attention. A few minutes later, he had appeared through one of the fireplaces lining the platform nine and three quarters.

This time, he controlled his look of awe. There were future classmates around and it would not do to look like a buffoon awestruck by a scarlet steam train. A few feet away from, in the midst of a throng of reporters and cameramen, and fans stood his 'family'. Harry, reigning in his temper, managed to manoeuvre his way round the crowd.

So focused was he at not being spotted by any of the four people, he didn't see the two girls behind him as he turned.

'Ugh!' Crash.

He picked up his trolley, looking around to see who he had bumped into. And there, getting up from the ground, was a furious looking blonde girl who being helped up by her brunette friend.

'I'm so sorry,' Harry apologised profusely, as he offered her his hand to pull her up but she batted it away. What was she angry about? It was a bump. And then he saw the large orange stain on her robes and the fallen cup. Oh, right.

He apologised for his clumsiness again, or at least, he attempted to but she cut him. 'You should be sorry,' the blonde girl scowled at him. 'You should watch where you're going.'

Harry had already apologised quite a lot, more than he ever does to anyone. But now, he was beginning to get annoyed at the girl's haughty tone. 'Well, you could have watched where you were going yourself,' he answered, scowling at her. He knew it was petty but he couldn't help himself.

'Excuse me! Do you know who I…', the girl started to say, astonished that anyone would talk to her like that, especially someone clearly muggleborn, from his clothes. But maybe it was because he was muggleborn that he was so impertinent.

But Harry didn't let her finish, 'It's just that you have eyes yourself, woman.'

Her eyes widened, even as her friend chuckled behind her hand, 'Woman! Stop calling me woman…'

'I don't know your name,' Harry answered in a matter-of-fact tone. But she was clearly angry. And he wanted to see if he could use it against her. From her robes and her tone, she was clearly an elite.

'I am Daphne of House Greengrass …', she started but Harry ignored her for the more interesting of the two, only giving her a nod before she finished her own introduction.

He also noticed the fact that she hadn't extended her hand as was custom. So, he wasn't in any obligation to receive her introduction in the proper manner either.

Harry rolled his eyes, and then looked at her friend, deciding to piss off the blonde girl even more. 'Hadrian Evans, Ms…'

She saw him looking at her and introduced herself, 'Tracey of the House Davis,' smiling at him as she extended her hand to shake his.

Harry didn't know if it was a pureblood name or not, but decided not care for the moment. He gave a bow and took her hand, turning it over and brushing his lips on the first two knuckles. 'A pleasure, Ms. Davis.'

Tracey was momentarily surprised by his manners, at least to her, 'A pleasure, Mr. Evans.'

Harry nodded, releasing her hand and replied, 'I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts' and promptly exited their vicinity, not even addressing the blonde girl whose name he didn't know.

He could almost hear her spluttering as he chuckled and got onto the next carriage that looked less crowded and entered an empty compartment at the end of it.

'That went well,' Harry said to himself. So much for a good first impression. He had already screwed his up. But at least, of the several people that saw their little tumble, the Potters weren't one of them. But there was still half an hour to go and Harry had no intention of being trapped in a train compartment when he had to spend the entire day in it.

And so, making sure that his fringe was in place covering his scar, and his muggle hat was covering his forehead, Harry exited the train. But not before looking at his reflection in a hand mirror he had brought.

After one night when aunt Petunia shaved his hair off, he had discovered his ability to change his appearance. It took an immense amount of concentration and a clear visual of what he wanted but he was able to change his face or hi hair, somewhat. He couldn't grow taller or shorter but then again, he didn't need it.

With fifteen minutes remaining to the train's departure, and it would leave whether or not anyone was ready, people appeared out of thin, rushing through the platform wall and from the fireplaces in a hurry to get their children's trunks loaded onto the train.

As Harry stood behind a pillar and observed them, he scoffed at the stupidity of these people. Some wizards and witches, after apparating, actually stumbled somewhat – some even falling to the ground as their children clung onto them. Pathetic. For someone who should be used to that mode of transport, they sure as hell weren't very good at it.

These were his school and potential year mates, and Harry observed several of those that looked to be his age. One plump and pudgy, blonde haired boy desperately clung to what looked like a frog – no, a toad – as an elderly witch with a very ugly vulture hat, quite clearly lectured him.

Another plump redhead girl tightly hugged her equally redhead mother. She had quite a pleasant face, he noticed. Though, it was marked by a few tears. A blonde girl with her hair in a pig-tail stood near the redhead duo with her parents and she too looked quite nervous.

Harry pushed down the feelings of jealousy at their luck. They actually had family to say goodbye to them. His, meanwhile, didn't even bother showing up to take him shopping when his letter arrived. But maybe they didn't know. Oh, who the hell cares. He sure doesn't. He buried those feelings in exchange for disgust at such a show of weakness from many of his potential peers.

That was when he saw a curtain of blonde and black hair, cascading down her back elegantly. Narcissa Malfoy walked her regal walk with who he presumed was her husband and her son, Lucius and Draco if he remembered correctly.

Even though both older Malfoys were wearing simple black robes, they easily looked more expensive than anything anyone else was wearing on the train. The trio made their way to the train and would have gotten on it un-accosted, as they passed a large family of redheads had the youngest redhead boy not said something to the young Malfoy.

Harry noticed, with a pang of anger, that the redhead family, seven in total, were standing with the Potters. He clenched his fists, enough so his nails were digging into his palms squashing the anger deep inside and replacing it with coldness, he forced his smile on his face, in case someone was watching.

Whatever the redhead said to Draco prompted an immediate argument between the two, which in turn almost immediately pulled their fathers in and their sons. The whole situation quickly escalated, all because of a careless comment from one idiot boy.

The women looked like they were caught in between trying to defend their husbands and not causing a scene on a very platform on a very busy day. However, the argument escalated to the max when somehow, the three young boys who were the loudest, had somehow had their wands out.

Harry scoffed at the stupidity of it all. He could Mrs. Malfoy as the one with the greatest restraint, her face showing little to nothing of what she was feeling. It was a good thing she didn't see him or she would have been most certainly disappointed in his clothes. But they served a purpose, for him, at least.

The other two mothers, both curiously redheads, were less successful in hiding their emotions, if they were even trying that is. The plump one, with messy hair, wore a skirt, which looked more like a rag to him – and he had much experience wearing rags. There was an even younger girl, her daughter clutching her rag, skirt, thing as she too glared at the Malfoys.

Beside them, the skinnier redhead – his 'mother' – too had a young girl behind her. One that looked even younger and smaller than her counterpart and one who wasn't clutching her mother. The girl, unlike her mother, and the other girl, was curiously not glaring at the Malfoys.

Either she was confused as to what was going on or she was more sensible than any of them. He couldn't know which it was.

He shook his head the absurdity of the situation when there was an alarm, the first of three, which signalled that the train was about to depart. Harry, quickly turned back, making sure none of them saw him watching the show, and hurried on the train and made his way to his, hopefully, still empty compartment.

The amusement from the show he had just watched quickly fled from him as he opened the door to his compartment. Of course, it was just his luck when the two people who were in the compartment, were the ones he had knocked to the ground.

There was a barely concealed groan from the blonde girl. 'What are you doing here, Evans?', she asked him icily, while her friend only had an expression of mirth on her face. He found, he liked her much more than her icy friend regardless of the latter being the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

But of course, he was never one to let stinging comments go, a side effect from living with his wretched aunt. 'Excuse me, lady, but I was here first,' he pointed to his trunk that was on the rack. 'You don't mind, do you, Ms. Davis?'

She giggled and shook her head, 'No, not at all, Mr. Evans.'

While they both found the situation funny, the blonde girl soon lost her patience with his impertinence, 'You need to leave.'

Harry narrowed his eyes. Not that he wanted to stay with this girl but it was too late to find another compartment. And he probably would have left if she had asked properly and nicely. But as it happens, he was feeling petty.

With a defiant puff of his chest, he smirked and deliberately exaggerated his strut to his former place beside the window, 'Sorry lady, but I was here first. You're welcome to leave if you want,' and turned to her friend. 'Not you, of course, Ms. Davis.'

The brunette, however, surprised him when she said, 'Umm. You might not like the company who might come to visit.'

Harry wondered who she was talking about. Purebloods? Hmm. That might be interesting. 'Thank you for the warning, Ms. Davis. I assure you I have plenty of experience dealing with people I don't like.'

And with that, the conversation was over as the girls took out a magazine to share, Witch Weekly, he noticed. He too, wasn't much for idle chit chat, and was glad for the respite as he took Gregorovitch's journal and a fountain pen he had bought from the Writing Supplies shop in Carkitt Market.

He was already well on his way to finishing some of their textbooks and had made decent notes from the books. But he found that he found the journal more interesting, as it consisted of Gregorovitch's notes on the nature of magic, how to manipulate it, for beginners. Harry frequently compared it to their charm's textbook.

The train had left the station ten minutes ago when their compartment door opened yet again. Harry groaned. Just his luck. The redhead boy who had started the argument with Draco popped his head in. 'Excuse me, do you mind. Everywhere else is full.'

Harry was about to tell him to go elsewhere when he saw someone was behind the boy. Ten guesses as to who it was. A plan started forming into his head. But for that to work, he had to tolerate his presence. 'No, of course not.'

He saw the Daphne Greengrass shoot him a glare, but thankfully she didn't say anything. Tracey only nodded and her eyes lit up when his 'brother' walked in.

They stopped when they spotted the girls. It seems as if the redhead boy hadn't noticed the two girls when he asked Harry. What an idiot.

He saw Alexander's eyes narrow and he doubted the two girls missed it either. Did they have some history. The redhead was about to say something when Alexander sat down, 'Come on, Ron. Let's just sit here.'

The redhead, Ron, begrudgingly sat down, but not before he sent a few glares at Daphne. Now Harry was really amused. It only helped his plan that none of them knew who he really was.

'I'm Alexander by the way. Alexander Potter,' the offered his hand to Harry who shook it with a smile, noting the slight puff of Alexander's chest by the way he said the name Potter. Exact opposite to what Harry felt at the accursed name.

'And this is my best friend, Ron Weasley,' Alexander motioned to the gangly and freckled redhead beside him.

'Adrian Evans,' Harry omitted the H, but it seems from Alexander's expression, he was oblivious anyhow. Bad move. Daphne had slightly narrowed eyes. Maybe she was a little suspicious about him.

Harry wondered if he should introduce the two girls as they hadn't volunteered their names. 'And these are…'

It seems he hadn't needed to, as Alexander said, 'Greengrass and Davis. We know.'

'Potter. Weasley,' Tracey replied with a nod. Her eyes were still somewhat guarded but didn't have the calculating expression of her friend.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Well, at least, for now. Fortunately, the brewing tension in the compartment, subsided when the trolley lady arrived and Harry, who pretended to be eager to try out the new sweets, bought enough for the five of them.

Daphne though, flat out refused to share any. Harry shrugged uncaringly. It's not like he was desperate to share food with her. Tracey, however, was more than happy to help them cut down the food.

That seemed to get the two boys to open up about themselves. What idiots, he thought. Harry picked up a box of jelly beans, 'Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans?'

Okay, he hadn't tried those before. Maybe being a regular kid wasn't so bad, but then again, he had never been regular.

It was Tracey who answered just as Weasley was about to, 'Yes, they mean every flavour. There's chocolate and peppermint. There's also spinach, liver and tripe.'

Harry, knew as soon as he put one into his mouth that he had gotten the tripe one. Resisting the urge to puke, he immediately popped his head out of the window and spit it out, ignoring the snickering from Tracey and the laughter from the two boys.

'George swore he got a bogey flavoured once,' said Weasley, more to Alexander than anything.

It seemed Alexander had to do one up and replied, 'I got earwax! It was disgussttinnng.'

Harry looked at Ron's rat, who was munching on a cauldron cake and making a mess on Ron's lap and suddenly he was regretting his decision to invite them in. He looked away from the disgusting creature. He hated rats and he hated mess.

The only good thing, he mused, that came out from living with his aunt. Not that she cleaned the house. She just took credit for the abnormally clean house that she worked him as a slave, to obtain. And so, after seven years of cleaning like a house-elf, Harry had developed quite an aversion to mess.

And it seems, from the way, Potter and Weasley were eating, they never had to do one day of cleaning up after themselves.

'Chocolate frogs? They aren't real frogs, are they?' he asked Tracey, hoping to include them in the conversation now that Potter and Weasley were animatedly talking about something called Chudley Cannons.

Daphne almost dropped her jaw at his stupid comment and Harry barely managed not to grin at how well his act was going.

'No, it's not. It's just a spell,' Tracey replied, chuckling, no doubt, at his expense.

'Besides, it's the cards you want,' Harry turned to look over at Weasley who was leaning forwards greatly.

'Yeh. Each card's got a famous witch or wizard. I've got about five hundred meself,' Potter added with pride. Harry didn't know why he would be proud of that.

He opened his own, and there indeed, was a chocolate frog, which at once croaked, and with a single jump, was out the window.

'Watch it! Ah, that's rotten luck, they've only got one good jump in em, to begin with,' Weasley said, shaking his head in disappointment. Harry couldn't care less. He hated chocolate and frogs.

'Hey, I've got Dumbledore,' he said, looking at the image of the aged wizard on the card, making himself sound more pleased than anything.

'I've got about six of him,' Alexander said with a grin. And Ronald seemed to be share his sentiments about the man.

Daphne, however, rolled her eyes and Tracey only smirked. Hmm. Did that mean they didn't like him? Was it his pro-muggleborn views? Harry would have to research more on the matter.

'Ah, I've got you, Potter,' he was distracted from his musings and was surprised to see Tracey holding a card with Alexander's face on it.

He couldn't believe the public would let their hero worship exaggerate to this extent.

Alexander puffed with pride and grinned, 'Dad got them to update the picture they had on it!'

And obnoxious. He added that to the mental list of traits he was compiling about the four people in his compartment. He wanted to ask why they had him on it but at the same time didn't want to look like a complete idiot for not knowing about the boy-who-lived. Granted, this was just an act but that didn't mean that he wanted to look like a complete moron.

So, he decided to change the subject. Fortunately, he was saved from choosing one when Alexander commented on his father potentially being promoted. He thought he saw a flash of something on Weasley's face – jealousy perhaps – but he might have imagined it.

'So, you guys have any siblings?' Harry asked nonchalantly, or hopefully, it seemed nonchalant as he ate a pumpkin pasty.

That turned out to be the right thing to say as Weasley went on and on about his siblings, of which there were many and what they do. His oldest brother, Bill Weasley worked as a curse breaker for Gringott's; Charlie worked with dragons in Romania; Percy was a perfectionist prefect. Then there were the twins, who were the mischief makers.

Here Alexander commented that they idolised James Potter and his friends, Moony and Padfoot. Harry, immediately realised that he may know this, Padfoot. Occasionally, he had dreams about someone he called Pafoo.

And then it was Ronald and his younger sister, Ginny. So, she must have been the one clutching her mother's skirt and gazing up at Alexander admiringly.

'What about you. You have any siblings?' Alexander Potter asked him and Harry saw the boy looking at his face somewhat suspiciously. Did he suspect? No. He didn't seem like an observant type. Regardless, he needed to deflect the question.

'Nah. I'm an only child,' he replied and decided that some truth needed to be included in his lie. 'I'm an orphan.'

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' Tracey replied, and glared at Potter when he asked how.

Harry saw Daphne was busy being indifferent to pay attention to him so it was safe enough to create a story. 'My aunt told me that my parents died in a car crash when I was younger and I was given to my relatives by the authorities.'

'Where do you live?' Alexander asked. It was clear that he wasn't giving up on it anytime soon. Harry hoped that he could keep track of all the stories he was making up.

'Chelsea, in London,' he replied. 'You?', he asked, hoping it would shift the attention on him.

'We live in London as well,' Alexander replied. 'Well, we used to live in Godric's Hollow but not after the attack.'

Harry only nodded. He had read about the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow which was now a memorial and belonged to the Ministry.

But it was Tracey who asked, 'I thought House Potter had a manor?'

He could Daphne too was interested in this answer as she listened more closely, while pretending that she was reading her magazine. He smirked; the girl really was subtle. But not as much as him.

Potter mumbled something incoherently and when Tracey asked what he said, he snapped, 'I said we don't have it anymore, okay!'

'Okay, sorry,' Tracey held her hands up in front of her to emphasise the fact.

'So, what about your family?' Harry asked Potter, hoping to defuse the tension long enough so he could get some answers.

Alexander's annoyed look immediately changed to one of pride. 'My dad's a senior Auror. There's been some talk of him being promoted to Head of a different department but he likes being an auror too much.'

Harry resisted the urge to snort. No shit. There was always some story in the papers about his escapades. He thought half of them were absolute fiction but he kept that to himself.

'My mum's just got her charms mastery and my little sister, Rose is ten…' he trailed off, looking again at Harry's face.

It was then he realised what was getting him suspicious. He cursed himself mentally. His accursed eyes. Did he have the same eyes as the little brat.

But thankfully, it was Tracey who saved him. He did, however see Daphne sending her a glare, 'Don't you have a brother as well?'

Alexander immediately narrowed his eyes at that. 'How do you know that, Davis?'

Harry too was curious. Not to mention a little apprehensive that he would be caught in the act before his plan was complete.

It was Daphne who answered, much to everyone's surprise, as she had yet to speak a word to any of the boys. 'Draco told us over the summer.'

Alexander growled, 'Draco! Of course, he'd butt into something that's not his business!'

'How did he even know?!' Weasley snarled. 'Slimy snake!'

'His father is on the board of governors,' Tracey replied, smirking at the obvious discomfort Alexander Potter was in. Weird, she didn't seem vindictive to him but why was she happy about this.

Something was going on and Harry had no clue what it was. And he hated it. But obviously, playing the oblivious muggleborn, he couldn't just ask.

Seeing Harry's questioning gaze, Alexander replied, 'Yes. I do.'

Before anyone could ask something else, Alexander turned to his friend, 'Come on, Ron. Let's go find him and make sure he's not sitting with some snakes.'

Harry managed not to grin at the wild goose chase they would go on. Daphne snorted in a rather un-ladylike manner as Tracey outright laughed once both boys were out of the compartment.

Harry was quite content with the lack of mindless chatter as both girls whispered to each other and he read his journal, occasionally making some notes or underlining things to do further research on. Although, it was quite interesting but what Harry needed was to do read the wandlore books he had but he knew it would attract too much attention.

And so, with occasional short discussions, they passed the time until the time when a visibly disappointed Alexander Potter and a rather red, Ron Weasley entered the compartment again. It was obvious that their quest had experienced some unexpected bumps and so, none of the three already present asked anything about it. Even though, Harry wanted to ask why Alexander's brother wasn't with him.

But it would be so much more fun when his arrival would be unexpected. That was, after all, why he had deliberately dressed up in muggle clothes. For he had assumed that no-one would recognise him if he wasn't wearing wizard robes, and his scar was covered. Neither would his family, who would be, of course, wearing robes.

He was a little confused about his disappointment when neither James nor Lily Potter was dressed in wizarding robes, but in muggle jeans and shirt. No wonder Mrs. Malfoy and her husband had looked at the Potters so disdainfully. It made him even gladder that he hadn't shown his own face and clothes to Mrs. Malfoy.

Eventually, as he read over the Hogwarts Houses again in Hogwarts: A History and got tired over Potter and Weasley eaten their weight in sweets while occasionally commenting how boring the other three were for reading on the train.

The rolling fields of green, wheat and barley around was beginning to change into lush, green hills as they ascended towards Norther England. The sky showed that dusk would be upon them soon as the Sun was starting to set.

Perhaps it was time for them to change. The girls had changed a while ago but Harry hadn't, waiting to go to the toilets and change all at once. But this current chapter reminded him of what he wanted to ask the others in the compartment.

'Fred gave me a spell to turn him yellow, wanna see?' Weasley suddenly as Potter, who look intrigued. Harry thought he saw a particular glint in his eye, perhaps at the idea of trying it out on a person for a prank.

Wouldn't be too large a stretch, given what he said about his father and godfather being pranksters at school. 'Yehh. Go on,' he said excitedly, putting away the cauldron cake he was stuffing.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the particularly worn out wand Weasley withdrew from his pocket. Harry could tell it had seen better days. Didn't first years get their wands by getting chosen by them? This clearly wasn't his wand.

One, it was quite long for someone his size. Two, it looked old. Three, it had a bit of unicorn hair sticking out from the end of it. Harry could feel the magic within the wand fading. Even at Ollivanders and then Gregorovitch, after trying hundreds of wands, he got a feeling of the cores and their magic.

Even without seeing the unicorn hair sticking out of it, Harry could have known what it was. Woods, he found were much harder to identify.

Both Tracey and Daphne were looking at the weathered wand pointed at the rather fat, disgusting rat sitting on Weasley's lap.

'Hem hemm…' Weasley cleared his throat and readied himself. Before he could get to it, however, a girl with white skin, a lot of bushy brown hair, and two rather large front teeth, appeared on their compartment toad. She took one look around, let out an exasperated sigh and asked, 'Has anyone seen a toad. A boy's named Neville's lost one.'

'No!' Weasley replied, annoyed at being interrupted but the girl didn't seem to notice his tone. Perhaps, she was just as oblivious as the two boys.

That was when she saw the wand pointed at the rat and her eyes shone, 'Oh… Are you doing magic? Let's see then.'

'Sunshine, daisy, butter, mellow…. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!' Weasley tapped the wand point at his rat, which gave a surprised squeak and fell off Weasley's lap. Other than that, nothing happened to it, which was quite expected, really.

'Are you sure that's a real spell,' the girl asked, obviously rhetorically. 'Well, it's not very good, is it?'

Weasley turned to Potter and rolled his eyes but the girl carried on, much to Harry's amusement. 'Of course, I've only tried a few simple one's myself. But they've all worked for me.'

And much to everyone's surprise, the girl welcome herself into the compartment and seated herself across from Potter. 'For example,' she pointed her wand, which had what looked like vines wrapped around the length of the wand, for most of it, and it had no handle, straight at Potter's face.

Surprised, Alexander was about to say something or perhaps take out his own wand but she spoke first, 'Occulus reparo!'

For a second, Harry thought she was going to jinx but then recognised the fixing spell. And that was when everyone noticed the skewed glasses of Potter's frame fixed themselves.

Harry, as well as others, he could tell, were quite impressed at the obvious mastery of that particular charm the girl demonstrated. Perhaps, she wasn't a first year.

But one look at her unadorned Hogwarts robes told them she was. She would be one to keep an eye on of course.

'Holy cricket! You're Alexander Potter! I know all about you of course – I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in Modern Magical History and the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and the Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century,' she said it all in one go, seemingly only then realising that there were others in the compartment and blushed, while mumbling something incoherent.

'I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger,' she said introducing herself to the compartment at large and turned to him. 'And you are?'

Harry smirked and for once was tempted to tell her his real name, just to see what her reaction would be. But the gleam in her eyes was still there, so he decided against it. Her eyes were a most curious shade of brown, like chocolate. 'Adrian Evans.'

And just like that, she was off, again, 'Muggleborn too. Of course, I am well. I mean, no one in my family is at all magical. It was ever a surprise when my letter came. Of course, that explained all the strange things that were happening and my parents were a little apprehensive that it might be a joke. But, of course, when Professor McGonagall turned a teacup into a kitten, we were all pretty quickly convinced. Did she come to get you too? I bet your parents were surprise? Did you do much accidental magic?'

Harry blinked at the rapidity of her questions. That said much about her thoughts. He was tempted to rebuke her for her rudeness. But it was also clear that she was quite anxious that she wouldn't fit in this new world. Perhaps, she was worried that she wouldn't make any friends.

So, he answered as civilly as possible, even though he hated nosy people, thanks to his aunt who was a creep of the highest order, 'Muggle raised. And no, she didn't come to get me. I went to Diagon Alley by myself. My aunt dropped me there. I live quite close to it anyway so it wasn't that hard.'

'Oh right,' Hermione nodded and turned to question the others, not noticing the narrowed eyes of Daphne Greengrass. But was that because of him or her, he wasn't sure. Hermione seemingly encouraged by Tracey's amused expression, was discussing the accidental magic she did.

Harry half-listened, as he struggled to get the envy out of his head. Even if he did succeed, he might not get it out of his heart. The sight of parents lovingly saying goodbye to their children on the platform; of mothers hugging their sons as if their life depended on it; the stories of Hermione's parents being happy at their displays of magic, hurt him more than he would ever admit.

No. That was stupid. He told himself to get his head out of his arse and stop thinking like a sentimental, emotional girl. He didn't need parents. He didn't need love. He would survive in this world without them, despite of them, he vowed.

The last part of his lie to Tracey got him thinking. What would happen once he returned from school for the summer? He hardly wanted to live with the Dursleys. But perhaps, it would be better than living with his parents, who would no doubt want to take custody of him once they realised, he was a wizard. He didn't know how he felt about that.

Most likely, he would need a place of his own, if he didn't want to stay in the Leaky Cauldron for all of summer, which didn't seem like a feasible thing to do anyway. Which then brought up the issue of money. Even though he would have five thousand in his trust vault again, it wouldn't be enough to buy an apartment. Not that he wanted to live in the muggle world.

A poisonous thought entered his mind but he pushed it out of his head as soon as it came. He didn't want to be a criminal. Not now, that he had found a world where he belonged in.

He did feel guilty about lying so much to Tracey, as much as Dudley really but it was necessary to avoid recognition, for now. He consoled himself that he wasn't like his whale of a cousin. Dudley lied for the fun of it and to get others in trouble. Harry lied for survival. Self-preservation.

As soon as he had thought, he was already thinking up ways to make sure his sorting goes his way. Perhaps he had missed something in Hogwarts: A History. He had read it once but couldn't remember how sorting worked. Mrs. Malfoy hadn't told him either, sadly. He resolved to find it somewhere in the book as he took out his copy.

And before he knew it, the ever-talkative Hermione was leaving the compartment, telling Weasley how he had dirt on his nose, resulting in a snort and snickering from Tracey.

It seemed that Tracey had noticed Harry reading the section on the traits of the houses again, as she asked, 'So, what house do you think you'll be in?'

If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that Tracey knew legilimency. Who knows, she might.

He thought about it for a second, considered his current audience and settled on the safest option, even though he didn't particularly like it, 'Ravenclaw suits me best, I think.'

'Why is that?' she asked, looking genuinely interested in it as opposed to fishing for knowledge to use against him.

'I don't know… I suppose none of the others suit me…' he answered somewhat truthfully. 'Also… not to be beat my own drum… but I think I'm intellectual and I like learning.'

Daphne almost snorted but he could tell that she successfully passed it off as a cough. But he ignored it for a more important matter. Potter.

'What about you?' he asked Tracey, 'Slytherin, I presume?'

He didn't ask Daphne because it was obvious where she wanted to go. Her calculating expressions were a dead giveaway. And here he thought, Slytherins were meant to be subtle. Nothing about the way she glared was subtle.

'Of course,' she replied, smirking, giving a look towards to the two boys who looked like they were going to puke at the thought of Slytherin. 'Although, my mother was a Ravenclaw.'

'Chh. Who would want to be a slimy snake?' Weasley scoffed, throwing a glare towards the two girls but more aimed at Daphne.

'He's right, Adrian,' Alexander added. 'They're all sneaky and evil. You don't want to be friends with snakes, trust me.'

The girls looked especially confronted at this. 'Excuse you! Not at all Slytherins are evil, just so you know,' Tracey replied vehemently.

'Leave it, Trace,' Daphne glared at the boys, Harry included. 'It's nothing their tiny brains could comprehend.'

His nostrils flared as he tried to control his temper. Harry had to reply to that, 'I don't know why you're including me in that, lady.'

Her eyes narrowed, annoyed, at that but before she could answer, Harry turned to the other two and said, 'I don't know. I figure you two would be Slytherins.'

Silence greeted his comment. Then that silence turned to the looks of horror from them. And then a yell.

'What?! Take that back!'

'I am a Potter! I won't be a slimy snake!'

Even the girls had dumbfounded looks on their faces, although Daphne's was gone before Tracey's. They probably thought he was an idiot for thinking so.

Harry rolled his eyes at their narrow mindedness and said, 'Think about it, Weasley. What are Slytherins known for, more than anything else?'

'Ambition,' Tracey replied, her face one of confusion as she too didn't know where he was going with his. And so was Daphne's. Harry hoped this confusion would remain until the sorting. However, they do it.

'Exactly. From what you've told us, Weasley, you feel overshadowed by older brothers, all of whom have good, successful careers and, or, things they're particularly good at. Even the twins, from what you've mentioned, are geniuses at pranks and mischief; Percy has perfect grades and is a prefect; the older two have successful careers at Gringotts and in the Romanian Reserve.'

So, it is your ambition, and your dream above anything else, to be greater than any of them. To do your parents proud. To be rich,' Harry was grasping at straws here but it was necessary. 'If I had a guess, I'd say it is your ambition to be a Professional Quidditch Player. For the Chudley Cannons, perhaps. And so, you want to be selected for house team, preferably as a Keeper since Charlie was a seeker and the twins are beaters.'

Weasley's eyes widened comically at his dream being verbalised by someone else. He hadn't said any of this, but it was quite obvious from the way he talked about the sport and his borderline obsession with Chudley Cannons. Why anyone would pick such a horrendous name, he didn't know.

The redhead however, wasn't willing to listen and kept grumbling about how Weasleys were always Gryffindors and how they're a light family. Why does the type of magic you practice matter to what house you would be in?

Harry decided not to lay it on too thick after a second thought, 'Think about it, Weasley. And if you do get sorted into Gryffindor, I'll buy you a new wand.'

That got him the shocked looks from the other four. 'What makes you think he needs a new wand, Evans!' Alexander asked him, noting the way his friend had gone red.

Harry resisted the urge to snort. 'Because I'm not blind. I'm sure Tracey and Daphne have noticed…'

'I never gave you leave to call me by my given name!' Daphne snapped at him, raising her head from her magazine. What was the deal with her? First, she doesn't go by the customs when introducing herself, then when he doesn't do it, she snaps at him. Girls. Ugh. He could never understand.

'Fine, I'm sure Tracey too noticed that that's not Weasley's wand,' Harry continued, omitting the latter's name altogether, not wanting to get in an argument.

Tracey nodded, confirming his assumption, 'It's too worn-out.'

Weasley, if possible was going redder, judging by his ears and mumbled something like, 'Charlie's…'

But before his embarrassment could escalate, Alexander deliberately changed the subject, or rather, brought it back to the original, 'I'm not going to be a Slytherin! I'm a Potter and I'm the Boy-Who-Lived!'

Harry rolled his eyes at the boy's arrogance. He was already too proud of his title. Granger didn't need to go inflating his pride even more by mentioning those books. 'I think you're quite suited to Slytherin, actually.'

Daphne scoffed, 'And I'm a Hufflepuff,' she added sarcastically, eyeing the two boys and then going to back to her magazine. There was something similar about them but she couldn't put a finger on it. It was troubling her to no end, ever since Potter had come into their compartment. Of course, she had met Alexander bloody Potter before. In Ministry balls and the like. Their families didn't really run in the same circle but their fathers were acquaintances.

One would have to be living under a rock to be unaware of Alexander Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the only survivor of the Killing Curse and who defeated the Dark Lord when he was only one. Every child in their world had grown up hearing stories of him. They had books and even merchandise dedicated to him.

That was the only reason she knew that the boys didn't know each other beforehand. She could also see that there was some underlying animosity between them. But how could a no name muggleborn, new to their world, possibly hold a candle to the Potter heir.

'Hufflepuff is still better than Slytherin!' Potter insisted stubbornly.

Then there was the matter of just what this muggleborn was planning. He clearly had some motivation behind the senseless stuff he was sprouting. She just didn't know what it was. No one in their sane mind would say that a Potter and a Weasley would ever be sorted in Slytherin. But perhaps, he wasn't aware of their houses was the reason this muggleborn was saying such. Typical ignorant mudblood! all eager to change their world in the likeness of the muggle one.

Harry considered what he was going to say for a minute, wondering how he should spin it, 'You desire to be great. Not because you're the Boy-Who-Lived, or because, you're James Potter's only son. No, you want to be great and be known as more than just that title. You want to get out of its shadow, and of your father.'

Now, he really was spouting crap, Daphne snorted at his idiocy. Anyone who knew about the Potters was aware of how the family was lorded as the definition of greatness already. Stupid boy.

Expectedly and unsurprisingly, Potter denied it vehemently, glaring at the muggleborn who presumed to know anything about their world. Ironically, they were the same thoughts as hers. Daphne never thought she'd be thinking that.

Harry cursed mentally. Daphne was scrutinising him with her piercing gaze. He shouldn't have spoken this much. Now, it was impossible to avoid her suspicion. But one cannot have everything, he supposed.

Thankfully, both Potter and Weasley seemed too stupid to realise something was off.

'I think we're nearing Hogsmeade,' Tracey said, looking out the windows. He didn't know how she knew but Potter agreed with her. Maybe they had been to the school before. It wouldn't surprise him.

'Where're you going?' Weasley asked, as Harry put his book back into his trunk and made heaved it off the rack.

'Toilet,' Harry answered, knowing that he wouldn't have to haul it all the way and so he left it in the compartment. They better not think of peeking into his trunk or he would be very upset at this breach in his privacy.

'What in Merlin's name?!' Weasley jumped, shocked at what had just happened. And so were the others. Not as much as shocked, but quite surprised.

Potter hadn't been gone for more than five minutes when his trunk just disappeared from the rack.

'I don't think he's coming back,' Tracey said after a couple of minutes.

'Chh. Good riddance,' Potter replied. 'Come on, Ron. We gotta change.' Honestly, he was tired of his know-it-all attitude. He didn't even know about magic until a month ago and he presumed to know anything about them. About House Potter, to even suggest that he, Alexander Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived might be a Slytherin, was preposterous.

With every first of September, Severus Snape watched with a gloomy outlook on life as a new, fresh group of dunderheads entered the halls, for him to attempt to teach the delicate art of Potions and for them to wave all his efforts away as they were nothing.

He hated children. Merlin only knows why he stayed at this school to teach. Oh, right. His oath that he had given Albus. Damn that old coot and his damned lemon drops.

But even though the other dunderheads may try to drive him insane, he could trust his Slytherins to be at least prepared for class before coming to it – if they knew what was good for them anyway. And his Slytherins knew that, at least when it came to him.

Ravenclaws weren't too bad either, what with their obsessive need to compile knowledge just for the sake of it. At least, they read the books before coming to class. Unlike Hufflepuffs who shuddered at the mere sight of him and the dunderhead, idiot Gryffindors who apparently didn't even bother opening their books let alone read them before class.

As he took his seat beside the stuttering fool Quirrell, he hoped that Minerva brought the first years with all hurry she can muster up. And as English, he knew very well that they were all well practiced in mustering.

He occasionally gave short answers to whatever questions were directed his way, however few. The only ones from the staff he could stand were Flitwick, and Sinistra. Even Minerva, more often than not, got on his nerves.

Snape mentally went over the list of families from which they were going to get students. If he remembered correctly – and he always did – Lucius' son, Draco would be starting this year, along with the children of Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson families as well as spawns of other Noble Houses.

Along with these ones, he knew that the children from Houses Davis, Greengrass, Bones, Abbot, MacMillan, Longbottom, Bulstrode, Weasley and Potter! He cursed mentally, for reminding himself, albeit unwittingly of his most hated childhood enemy.

If there was a personal hell, he was sure his would be starting today. He wasn't only getting one, but two arrogant sons of the even more obnoxious James Potter. He was cursed to teach them for seven years though he hoped that the brats wouldn't make it past five.

But as bleak as his next five to seven years looked, Severus consoled himself with the silver lining in this situation. Obnoxious Potter's equally obnoxious brats would definitely create mischief like their infernal father and that mutt godfather. And when they do, he would be there to deduct all those points from Gryffindor, for where else would they be sorted.

He didn't fool himself to believe that either would have inherited Lily's intelligence rather than their father's arrogance and stupidity. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her conversing with Pamona, as Filius and the headmaster eagerly discussed their favourite dramas on WWN. What was she doing here? Was she here to see her sons sorted into Gryffindor? That would make sense.

Finally, the set of double doors opened, drawing every teachers eye to the crowd of first years following his old Transfiguration teacher as she walked briskly in her no-nonsense pace. The same one, he remembered, from all those years ago when he walked behind her.

Immediately his eyes, much like the headmaster's and Lily's sought out the two most obvious students. Both walking in remarkably similar way, strutting down the length of the hall as if they owned the castle. He almost shuddered at the thought of them so similar. Almost, because no self-respecting Slytherin would do something so unsightly as shudder, in public.

That arrogance would be out of them soon enough. Draco was almost a sure thing for Slytherin and no one of third year or above would give much nearly as much free reign as the boy thought he was going to be getting.

And Potter! He would be damned in he let the boy become the same bullying heap of hippogriff shit that his damned father and godfather were. But it might be too late for it. Lily certainly would have tried but no Potter can resist the temptation of being attention seeking, arrogant bullies. It was basically in their DNA.

Lily certainly would have tried to instil some manners in the boy but it was doubtful he took any of them seriously. After all, the boy was Potter's heir and would no doubt be spoiled beyond belief like James Potter himself was when he started Hogwarts.

Speaking of Potters, where was the other spoilt dung heap?

In the toilets, Harry had changed from his muggle disguise, into proper wizarding robes and boots. He would have kept the black wizard's hat on, except it just looked plain foolish. As such, his scar was only hidden by his raven hair.

Also, he had released the magic on his face keeping his changes together. It took an inordinate amount of effort to sustain any changes he made to his appearance and it cost quite a bit of magic.

Harry had ridden the Black Lake in a boat with a Scottish kid he didn't remember the name of, Granger and the bumbling idiot also known as Neville Longbottom. The boy had barely stopped fidgeting and it was driving Harry insane. He was this close to pushing the fat lump in the Black Lake for his weakness but somehow had managed to control his temper. It didn't help that Granger kept rattling on about facts that she had read in Hogwarts: A History.

But even as used to controlling his emotions he was, he couldn't keep the look of awe from his face or his jaw dropping at the magnificent sight of the stunning castle, sat atop a hill, glistening with thousands of candles in the dark night, with its many towers giving it a fearsome look.

It was quite easy to see that it was made primarily as a fortress, and a defensible location, probably from an invading muggle force. It would be practically suicide to invade such a well-situated and defensible castle.

Half an hour later, he walked up with the rest of the first years, having separated from his compartment companions to the Entrance Hall where they were received by a stern looking witch in black robes and a pointy witch's hat, who Hagrid, introduced as Professor McGonagall.

The witch, who Harry remembered being stated on the letter as the Deputy Headmistress, introduced the house system and named the houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Apparently, the house will be like their families. Any triumphs will gain them house points and any rule breaking will lose them points. At t the end of the year, the house with the most points will receive the house cup.

Harry, inadvertently, had been relegated towards the back of the group, as people were eager to go forward while he took in the sights. It turns out it was a good thing as Potter and Draco traded some jibes back and forth with Weasley adding some of his opinions that nobody but Potter cared about.

Behind them were standing Tracey and Daphne and had they seen him, they would have instantly recognised him, putting his plan at risk. That when was Professor McGonagall returned from wherever she had gone off to and led them into the great hall.

Here, Harry was now better able to contain his awe, than at the lake. It was without a doubt the largest room or rather, hall he had ever seen. It seated what had to be hundreds of students, under the night sky. Hovering over them were hundreds of lit candles.

Of course, he too had read about the enchantment placed on the ceiling of the Great Hall by Rowena Ravenclaw, as Granger was busy telling a girl beside her who looked like she couldn't care less.

But more than the magnificence of the hall, was the feeling Harry got. It was overwhelming, a rush of something, a wave sweeping over him and away, engulfing him completely, filling him. With a start, he realised what it was. It was magic. But on a much grander scale than what he felt in Ollivander's shop. It also felt, old, ancient more like… more powerful, natural.

His eyes went over the staff table at front. Sitting in dead centre, on a golden throne like chair, was a wizard, who he recognised from the chocolate frog card, as Albus Dumbledore, with his long white beard and long white hair, in a shockingly magenta robe.

He mentally snorted at the thought that the leader of the light dressing as what muggles pictured Merlin as. To Harry, he looked like Gandalf in an outrageous robe. To his left was as diminutive Professor, with a shorter white beard, who Harry thought, resembled the goblins somewhat.

Beside him, however, was a sight he had not to see. Not only because it angered him, but it made confused. Of his own feelings on the matter. What in the hell was Lily Potter doing here? He quickly averted his eyes from her lest she sees him. Instead, he observed others.

He shifted his attention back to what McGonagall was saying. So, they had to sit under a hat to be sorted. With the first name, 'Abbot, Hannah' it began. She was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff, but how, he did not know.

What was going on? The next few students included Susan Bones to Hufflepuff; Lavender Brown to Gryffindor; Mandy Brocklehurst and Terry Boot to Ravenclaw and Millicent Bulstrode became the first Slytherin.

From the terrified looks on their faces; or the looks of contention or argument or confusion, Harry finally realised what was going on. Crap! Seven Hells! He would hate for the damn hat to rummage through his mind. Was there no way to prevent it. No! If this was the only way, then he would have to endure it.

This was merely a hurdle in his way. He just hoped that whatever the hat learnt; it would keep it to itself. It must have quite a few secrets accumulated over the centuries. Not to mention the dust and grime. When had the hat been cleaned last.

Focus! He mentally chided himself. The most important event in his life was happening and here he was wondering if the hat had been cleaned recently. Foolish idiot!

Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass joined Millicent in Slytherin soon. Was it just him or did Daphne look kind of annoyed? At what, he couldn't say. Maybe Potter had done something to annoy her. It certainly wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Megan Jones, Leanne, Ernie MacMillan, and Justin-Flinch Fletchley joined the badgers; Amanda, Michael Corner and Su Li the Ravens; Fay Dunbar, Kellah, Hermione Granger, Seamus Finnegan and Neville fat-bottom the lions.

Finally, the Ps arrived and a rather unfortunately, pug-faced girl called Pansy Parkinson joined the serpents. Then came the name he had been waiting for, with all the reactions he had been expecting. And he would deny it to whoever even implied that he had.

'Potter, Alexander!'

He even allowed himself the smirk at what followed, mentally clapping himself on the back for a scheme having worked.

Alexander knew his name would come up before his brothers just like his dad had told him, but it was still a surprise when it did, amidst the usual whispers he heard whenever he and his family went out in Diagon Alley.

Even Dumbledore had sat up straight for his sorting. And his mother looked to be on the edge of her seat. Of course! He was the Boy-Who-Lived. The defeater of You-Know-Who when he was only one.

'Did she say Alex Potter!'

'the Boy-Who-Lived?'

'I thought he was being trained by Dumbledore?'

He had no need to push past anyone as he was already standing in the front. He walked as confidently as he could manage, making sure he looked happy and calm as he turned around, giving everybody his smile once they could see him.

He even heard bets on what house he would be in and took a certain pride in the certainty with which many students said, 'He'll be a Gryffindor, of course!'

Some said Ravenclaw, but there was no way in hell that was happening. He was not a bookworm.

He would be lying if he wasn't nervous but he swallowed his nerves down as his dad's favourite Professor lowered the ancient hat on his head, before he heard the expected rough voice in his head.

'Ahh… Tricky one… And no reaction to me like everyone else had. I see. So, you convinced your father to tell you of what happens at the sorting ceremony. To make yourself look brave in front of your peers? So very, very sly of you. Ah yes, I see everything, you know. No-one, save Salazar himself, would be able to hide secrets from me. So, very…. Slytherin….', the hat said.

'NO! Don't you dare put me there! You can't!' Alexander argued almost instantly, unwittingly bringing up the most recent related conversation in his head.

'Don't I dare! I can place where I please, boy!'

'NO! I just can't be in Slytherin… I just can't,' Alexander changed his tone to one of pleading instead, making the hat chuckle in amusement.

'Oh? And why is that?' the hat mused, sounding somewhat amused at his reaction.

That he was more prepared for, 'Only evil witches and wizards come out from Slytherin. I'm Alex Potter. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, a symbol for the light. I want to be in Gryffindor. Like my parents and grandparents. With Ron! And my brother! Us Potters always get sorted in Gryffindor!'

'We shall see. But first, let's look in a bit more detail, shall we. You're very loyal but a no for Hufflepuff. There's too much hard work that would be required for you there. And you've certainly got the potential for it, but not drive for Ravenclaw. And you completely lack any form of subtlety, don't you? Rather like your parents, in that regard. In fact, you didn't even recognise what your brother did, did you?'

What? Now he was confused. 'I went to look for him but me and Ron couldn't find him. I haven't met Harry yet!'

He was getting annoyed at the hat's cryptic words. Alex and Rose had been told of their brother who didn't live with them, a few years ago when he had, by accident, found a photo of him as a baby, in the attic. He agreed with their decision of course. It was for his own good. He was a squib, for Merlin's sake!

Rose was more affected by that revelation and just didn't understand why he had to live with their muggle aunt and uncle. But she was a child and a girl at that.

The hat chuckled again, 'I said, what he did, not said. Although, you didn't notice that either…. Hmm… Quite tricky but I do agree. I believe you will need an education that only be received in…'

Alex had a warm feeling in his chest rise up, at the imminent sorting into Gryffindor as the hat agreed with him, ready to rejoice. He was going to be a Gryffindor, like the one he his mum and dad always said he was. He was going to be in the house of his parents and grandparents; the house of Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive since Merlin. The house of heroes.

The warm feeling, however, turned into an ice-cold steel ball, and dropped into his stomach as he could barely comprehend what the hat just screamed.

'SLYTHERIN!'

For the first time since Dudley had fallen into the python cage in London Zoo, Harry felt tempted to laugh. Out loud. Rolling on the floor laughing.

Alexander's face, having instantly changed from glee to complete, abject horror as the hat screamed his house, was one he would remember for the rest of his life. But for the sake of not giving the game away, he just smirked at the complete and utter silence that greeted the hat's declaration.

Professor McGonagall was still looking at the hat that still sat on his head as if it had just asked for Alexander's kidneys. The headmaster was looking at Alex with narrowed, and should he say, concerned eyes. Lily Potter however was just plain worried for her son. That much was obvious from her face.

Understandably, all teachers were surprised, but the most was perhaps, the black robed, greasy haired man sitting on the far right. His face was one of complete shock, his eyes wide and fixed onto the boy on the stool, as if wishing for the ground to open up and swallow Alexander whole.

Harry couldn't say the thought didn't amuse him greatly. The whispers returned ever harsher than before when Potter walked up to the stool.

Now that according to his design, Potter had been sorted into Slytherin, breaking the much boring tradition of Potters always being in Gryffindor, it wouldn't cause much of a scene if, by chance, Harry couldn't get himself sorted into Gryffindor.

If, however, he is sorted into Gryffindor then Alexander loses a considerable amount of goodwill, gains a drastic amount of suspicion, and Harry gains the good impression of three quarters of the school.

Even if wasn't sorted into Gryffindor like he had planning, and Merlin forbid lands himself in Slytherin, he wouldn't too bad off, now that Alexander had already had his reputation 'damaged' and cast into suspicion. They would probably just assume that the hat made a mistake. All in all, not a bad first impression.

Much better than knocking a blonde girl to the floor and spilling her drink on her. But before he could savour the moment further, there was a loud yell that brought his attention to the stool. Professor McGonagall had just tried to take the hat from Potter.

'NO!' Alexander shouted, standing up, scandalised, 'This is wrong! Do it again'

'Mr. Potter,' McGonagall lips were thinning, 'You have been sorted. Now go and sit.'

'Like hell I'm sitting with the slimy Slytherins!' Alexander actually pulled the hat out of McGonagall's reach as she tried to take it from him… again. 'I should be in Gryffindor. You know it. It even agreed with me!', he waved the ancient headgear in his hand.

'It must have had a reason,' McGonagall looked close to losing her cool. 'I won't tell you again, Mr. Potter.'

'NO! I refuse,' the brat was throwing a tantrum. 'I'm not a mini death…!'

He wasn't allowed to finish as Lily Potter apparently had had enough of her son making a fool of himself and her. 'Alexander Lilian Potter! Sit down right now or I will ask Minerva to put you in detention for the rest of the term!', she shouted, standing up from her place on the staff table.

Harry could see people sniggering at his full name. Mostly, Slytherins. It seems, as much as he hated his own generically muggle name, his brother had gotten the short end of the stick when it came to middle names. He really didn't envy him that.

Begrudgingly, Potter had back the hat and trudged his feet slowly towards the Slytherin table. Harry could see people still half expected him to bolt before he reached it in his glacial pace.

McGonagall decided, however, not to wait for him to sit down, as he was being intentionally slow and called out the next name. 'Potter, Hadrian!'

Harry walked up from the back, holding his head high, chest out but not like a peacock and kept his emotions off his face. Not that he wasn't experiencing any. In fact, he was rather nervous.

'What? Another Potter?'

'Is he related?'

'The Potters have two sons?'

'Maybe a cousin?'

'Look at him, he looks exactly like James Potter'

Harry grit his teeth at the more or less correct statement. He had noticed on the train station that he possessed more than a passing familiarity with the older Potter and even to Alexander. He hated his looks more for it.

As he ignored the whispers and sat down on the stool, he had prepared the shields for the mental attack coming when he didn't even sense it, 'Ahh… Impressive… quite impressive for someone your age. I dare say you are on the right path, boy!'

Harry assumed it was talking about occlumency. 'I would hardly call it impressive. I didn't even feel an intrusion from you.'

'No, but then again, I'm ancient and the only one who could compare against my mind arts is Salazar himself,' the hat answered. 'Well, let's see then. Where to put you.'

It was asking him? That was great, he thought. 'Gryffindor', he replied, without hesitation.

'Ah. Yes, your little scheme. So, very Slytherin of you…. My, my, what an innate you have. So very different you are. I do believe you're the first of them in centuries…'

He hadn't been sat for more than thirty seconds and already he hated the cryptic hat. 'What do you mean? I have the same blood as Alexander so he must have the same innate talents….'

'Not everything is what it seems, young wizard,' the hat replied. 'What I mean, is what you will have to find out for yourself. And no, you don't belong in Gryffindor. You are brave yes, but not foolish. You are calculating and not self-sacrificing. You have no real concept of loyalty because you've never experienced it so no to Hufflepuff even though you are a terribly hard worker. No, there's only one place you can go.'

'SLYTHERIN!'

Harry had been rather resigned to this ever since he had hatched his scheme of getting Alexander into Slytherin. And so, he wasn't at all surprised when he handed the hat back to an astonished Professor McGonagall and stood as confidently as he could.

Harry took a brief moment to scan the faces of the students in the hall. Of course, they were all stunned that a Potter, a second Potter in a row had been sorted into Slytherin. If only he knew what was going on in their heads. Sadly, he wasn't a legilimens and had no way of learning the skill.

He didn't turn his attention to the staff table, lest it appear that he was nervous and didn't want to be in Slytherin. Even though he didn't want to be in Slytherin. But he would not allow the Slytherins, or the rest of the school to think him scared.

Harry made sure to stand up straight up and tall, head level and turned towards the table under green and silver banner and made his way towards them, ignoring the silence and the glares being levelled at him already, especially from red and gold table.

The non-judgemental, noble lions were judging him already. How unsurprising. Slowly, the silence abated into whispers and then one person from the Slytherin table stood up and clapped, the rest falling suit until the level of applause reached the level it had for other students. All bar Alexander.

Due to his outburst after his sorting, and subsequent scolding at the hands of both his mother and Professor McGonagall, a thoroughly embarrassed and reddened Alexander had taken his seat, reluctantly, amongst the serpents, without a single person to clap for him.

Of course, even if they had remembered to, they wouldn't have after he so thoroughly insulted the house. He doubted Alexander was in for a good welcome.

He ignored the death glare of Alexander and the piercing gaze of Daphne Greengrass as he took his seat beside Pansy Parkinson.

'I'm Pansy Parkinson,' she said to him, nose upturned and haughty, one arm linked with Draco's. She also had a sneer on her pug-face, one matching her boyfriend's. But she did offer her hand to him.

He was well aware that someone had been called to the sorting but wasn't paying attention to it. Having already sat down, it was a tad difficult to bow, but he did do it, taking her hand in his and brushing his lips against her knuckles. 'Hadrian Potter, Ms. Parkinson. Pleasure to meet you.'

In truth, he had done nothing different to how he had greeted Tracey but so why was Tracey looking at him like she was mad at him. 'Tracey,' he inclined his head.

Daphne immediately narrowed her eyes, 'It seems you have a habit of lying, Potter.'

By now, the others were aware of the whispered introduction at the top of the table, where Alexander sat at the very end, if afraid the others would poison him just by being near to him. How very childish.

Parvati Patil had just been sorted into Gryffindor and her twin Padma looked extremely let down by the fact.

'Not at all, Ms. Greengrass,' he replied smoothly. He wondered where this smoothness was coming from. He was not at all smooth when it came to talking to others, especially girls. He supposed he should be more grateful to Mrs. Malfoy for buying him those books. 'Hadrian is my given name, and Evans is Lily Potter's maiden name.'

That was when Alexander's eyes widened comically. He looked from a smirking Harry to a glaring Daphne and joined the points together.

'You!' he seethed, pointing at Harry. 'You tricked me!' Alexander yelled, going red.

The only response he got from Harry was a raised eyebrow. He was about to reply when came the retort from McGonagall, 'Potter! Quiet!'

'Weasley, Ronald,' McGonagall called out. Harry turned his attention back to the sorting. Will the second part of his plan work. It was rather irrelevant, to be honest.

His main goal had been to hurt Alexander's reputation and his hero status. Weasley had just been a bonus. So, when the hat called out Gryffindor, he wasn't overly disappointed.

'Guess you'll have to buy him a new wand now, Harry,' said Tracey, smirking as a grinning Weasley made his way to the Gryffindor

'What do you mean?' asked Pansy, turning back to them seeing as there was a lull in the next sorting.

'Harry here bet Weasley that he would buy him a new wand if he were sorted into Gryffindor,' Tracey added so helpfully, before Harry could make up an answer. Maybe she was taking revenge of him fooling her on the train.

Pansy scoffed, 'Of course, Weasel can't even afford to buy a wand!'

Harry merely smirked. That had been the sort of response he was expecting from her. He could see Alexander was going to reply something but Draco cut him off, 'Didn't you donate some charity to your girlfriend, Potter?'

That resulted in quite a bit of snickering from the other Slytherins who were listening in and even a few nearby Hufflepuffs.

'No, Draco. They were too busy debating the odds of Chudley Cannons winning the league,' Harry said, only get a laugh from Draco and others, and a hard glare from McGonagall.

'The day that happens is the day I eat the sorting hat,' Harry turned to look at the boy who just been sorted, coming to sit beside him. 'Blaise Zabini,' he introduced himself.

'Very funny, Zabini,' Pansy snorted, shaking her head. 'Why did you make the fools bet anyway?'

'It wasn't too much of a risk. I never said when I'd be buying that wand.' Harry shrugged, telling the truth and then going silent as the headmaster standing up to say a few words.

'Before we begin, I have a few words to say. And these are: Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak!' he clapped his hands and instantly, all five tables were filled with more kinds of food than Harry had ever seen in his life.

'Is he – a bit…' Harry didn't know what word to use. 'Mad?'

'Mad, yes. Completely nutters,' Draco nodded. 'Oh, by the way, I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.'

'Hadrian Potter,' he replied, shaking hands with the blonde-haired boy and then taking a steak and some sweet potato chips, and filling his cup with orange juice.

'Honestly, we didn't expect to see you here,' said Zabini, eyeing him and Alexander curiously. He hadn't included Alexander in it though, who was busy sulking, looking like he might be sick sitting next to Theodore Nott. Nott in turn was thoroughly ignoring the boy next to him.

'Neither did I,' Harry replied, resisting a grimace at the awful taste of the juice which turned out to be pumpkin. 'The hat contemplated Ravenclaw for a while but put me here.'

'And your brother?' Pansy asked, looking towards the gloomy boy who was busy glaring at his kidney pie, while stabbing it with a fork.

Alexander whipped his head around, 'He tricked me! Otherwise I'd never be in this stinking house!'

'And how did I do that?' Harry asked, curious as to what he thought Harry had done. Of course, Harry had tricked him but Alexander hadn't realised until Harry talked to Daphne earlier.

'You… You!' Alexander stuttered, 'I dunno. You just did!'

'Hmm,' a little disappointed, Harry turned back to his dinner. When there was a lull in the conversation, Pansy took it upon herself to introduce Harry to Millicent Bulstrode, a burly looking girl who looked like Crabbe in a wig that was a lighter, almost lifeless shade of brown than Tracey's.

Pansy whispered to him that she wanted to be a beater on the Quidditch team and that it just wasn't proper. Millicent glare furiously at both of them at what she thought was an insult.

Pretending to seem oblivious, he asked, 'What's wrong with that?'

Disgusted for a few seconds at even contemplating such a scandalous act, Pansy turned at introduced Morag McDougal, who seemed almost too shy to speak and was trying to look as small as possible when Pansy addressed her.

She only sent a shy smile towards as he nodded to her and then observed the other tables. Slytherins were eating with the proper etiquette as befits their station while enjoying a good quiet conversation as they ate. All except Potter who was busy butchering his roast pork.

The Ravenclaws at the other end were similarly mannered to Slytherins and Harry understood why it was called the sister house to Slytherin. They too were keeping themselves proper, though not as much as some Slytherins.

The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were a different matter entirely. Their meal was livelier and conversation flowed more easily. In Harry's opinion, they knew what a feast was and were enjoying it. For a moment, he felt a pang of jealousy at their camaraderie before he squashed it down.

Unfortunately, in his people watching, his gaze caught onto Ronald Weasley, who sat opposite the proper Hermione Granger, had a piece of chicken in each hand, grease dripping, as he took a bite from each.

'Disgusting, isn't it?' he turned to Draco who said it, with an upset look that probably matched his.

'Sorry?' he asked, confused. Was the boy calling him disgusting?

'The way Weasley's eating. Like he's trying to force an entire chicken down his gullet at once,' Draco motioned with his head.

'Yes, yes, it is,' Harry replied, as the repulsive image flashed through his head, and he fought down the urge to throw up at the atrocious manners. He saw several girls turn to see where Weasley sat and quickly agreed that it was rather disgusting.

'Shut up!' they turned to see Alexander looking at them with wide eyes. 'Shut up about Ron!'

'Ooh Potter. What are you going to do? Throw a tantrum,' Pansy replied as several people snickered at him.

Harry felt a little guilty but it didn't matter. His plan was working better than he expected. But then he felt eyes on him and turned to the staff table. The black-haired man was glaring at Harry, straight.

That can't be good, he thought.

And just like that, dinner was over, the food vanished and Dumbledore stood up to make a speech. 'Now that we have all feasted, I have a few start-of-term notices to announce. Firstly, I would like you all to join me in welcoming back Professor Quirinus Quirrell who has just returned from his sabbatical and would be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts,' he motioned towards a man in a purple turban, who stood up shakily.

That, alone cemented Harry's opinion that the man was useless to teach such an important subject.

'Secondly, please welcome Professor Lily Potter, who would be teaching Charms and Muggle Studies, part time.'

Harry cursed mentally. How could he have such bad luck. But he clapped politely with the rest of them. Alexander too had a look of horror on his face. Clearly, it had come as a news to him too.

But didn't they have a young daughter? If James Potter was an Auror and Lily Potter was teaching here, what about the girl.

What does he care? He pushed the thought out of his head as the headmaster explained to them about forbidden items and not to go into the forbidden forest.

'Lastly… the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to all those who do not wish to die a most painful death,' he said gravely, as he looked over all students. Harry thought that his gaze remained on Alexander a few seconds longer but maybe he was mistaken.

Why would the headmaster say? In a school full of children taught be inquisitive, it was almost like an invitation. Doesn't matter. He wasn't here to think about forbidden corridors and odd headmasters, he was here to learn magic.

And soon, they were dismissed and Harry rose along with the rest of the house to be led to their common rooms. He could see several older students hesitating, looking at him and Alexander and then at the greasy black-haired man, who Pansy had explained was Severus Snape, their Head of House and Potion's Master.

Snape retracted his previous statement. His personal hell wasn't teaching two Potters Potions. No, now it seemed that fate or destiny or gods or whatever it was controlling everything, had some sort of grudge against him.

It had to be. Why else would his life take such a nasty turn and he be saddled with not one, but two arrogant Potters in his house. In Slytherin! It was hard to even imagine. He had been all content to think that Minerva would be dealing with those two while he only would dole out copious punishments.

How in the name of Merlin did this even happen! He was struck silent when Alexander Potter, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, symbol of the light, James Potter's pride and joy and whatnot ended up in house.

It was clear that he would be a huge pain to handle, by the temper tantrum he threw right there, in front of everybody when things didn't go his way. And then he had the gall to insult Slytherin! Oh, how he would rue the day. If his upper year Slytherins didn't exact revenge for this, Severus most certainly would.

It was when the other Potter, the one no one had even given a thought about, was also sorted into house and he walked to the green and silver table as if he had belonged there all along, things really went pear shaped.

He had been well aware that the second Potter, was being raised by that god-awful harridan Petunia. Even though it had surprised Severus that Lily could even do that to her child. Of course, he hadn't spoken up about it, it wasn't his place and he and Lily weren't what they used to be.

But when Alexander had interrupted the sorting, yet again, making Severus wish he was able to pour boil causing potion on him, and yelled at his brother for having tricked him, did things start to make sense to Severus.

The other Potter had somehow done something to either Alexander or the hat that resulted in this most shocking sorting. To what end, he did not know. Neither did he know how he did it. But Severus would find out. And then he would dole out the proper punishment.

Of course, it all made sense. When Alexander was sorted, the whole hall was shocked at the idea of the boy-who-lived being a snake. All, except a smirking Hadrian Potter, who was the only one who looked remotely amused by that, as if he was fighting a grin.

If he hadn't done that for his own amusement, Severus thought with vehemence, Slytherin wouldn't have been made a fool of, by his foolish brother. Figures that both Potters hadn't been in his house for more than ten minutes and already they were causing him headaches.

It was like they were sent by James to specifically annoy him. But if there was one thing, he was certain of, it was that James Potter would never want his sons, let alone his heir, be sorted into Slytherin even if to annoy him, which seemed to be his only goal in life when they were at school.

He could almost see the wheels turning in the headmaster's mind as to what the consequences of this would be and how he would turn it to his advantage.

Dumbledore, in his infinite patience and understanding, wouldn't let it matter to him in the slightest, at least when it came to Hadrian Potter. He was sure Filius would be the same. But would Pamona? He wasn't certain. Would she hold it against him?

He could see both her and Lily looking concernedly at both Potter boys on the table, sitting as far away from each other as was possible under the circumstances. It would have been amusing to him had the situation not been so unexpected.

What about Minerva. She had been visibly shocked at both sorting, more so on Alexander's, who she had met more than once over the years. Minerva had never been one to conceal her emotions. She was a Gryffindor through and through, wearing her heart on her sleeves. Just like her favourite students, James and Lily Potters.

Would she be herself, given that both boys of her favourite students were in his house and not hers like she had expected, or would be stricter than usual. Unfair even?

He could also see that the only other ex-Slytherin Professor Sinistra think. She maintained a neutrality when teaching but these were two boys, who everyone including him, would say were born to be Gryffindors.

And they were only in his house because one of them was meddlesome fool who will soon be taught a lesson. As soon as Severus figured out how he did it. Did he bribe the hat? No. What could the hat possibly want from a child.

He could also see that one of his own, Daphne Greengrass, was glaring, rather heatedly at Hadrian Potter. That only cemented his belief that the troublesome boy had done something. How he angered her, it did not matter. For he was sure, she was capable of extracting her own revenge.

As dinner ends, he receives the ever-expected order from the headmaster to present the two Potters to his office. He would be damned if he would show the Potters the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Although he had no doubt that James Potter had already told them. Just in case he hadn't, Severus would not be helping them prank his own house. Already this was like a bad prank.

He made his way to the first years as each house stood to leave the great hall, as he adapted to this most unexpected circumstance, again cursing the Potters.

'Potters,' he made his presence loom over the first years, and from the corner of his eyes, he saw a few Hufflepuffs pale and shrink away. 'You two will follow me to the headmaster's office. Now.'

Then turning to the sixth-year prefects he ordered, 'It seems you two will have to give the introduction with Professor Sinistra. Orientation will be tomorrow morning at nine am in the common room,' he ordered, as his ever-obedient snakes nodded and led the house away.

It seemed Hadrian underestimated the amount of trouble he was in, for he was standing quite contently. What arrogance! It would out of them soon enough!

The other one, was seemingly, divided at who to glare at, but seeing as other teachers and his mother were there, he decided to glare at his brother like he had doing frequently doing dinner.

'Let's go,' he ordered them and didn't need to make sure that they were following for he knew they would, if they knew what was good for them. The walk was spent in silence, he thanked the gods for this small reprieve.

Merlin knows there would be more than raised voices once they got to office. And he was quite right. He saw the other Potter's eyes narrow at the sight of the Griffin statue guarding the staircase to the headmaster's office.

'Sugar quills', he gave the password, and instantly, the stone statue revolved and revealed stairs going up.

A number of things were going in Harry's head. Not the least of which was the prominent question as to what the hell was going on.

He had, understandably, assumed that they would be sorted, have dinner and be sent to their dormitories, to prepare for their first day at school tomorrow. He cursed himself for his naivete. Why did he assume that his parents would want to wait to be reacquainted with the son they abandoned? Especially, since he was sorted into Slytherin, against their expectations and even wished.

Those were his primary thoughts as he crossed the blatant show of favouritism by the Griffin statue and onto the stairs leading to an office. Professor Snape knocked once on the door. 'Come in, Severus,' came the answer from inside.

As soon as he entered the office, he was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't visited any teacher's offices in his life, well except for the headmistress at primary school when Dudley blamed him for something or other, but he thought the headmaster's office was perhaps the most interesting.

It was a large, beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises, which he presumed were coming from the little trinkets, spinning and spitting steam on the shelves, and silver instruments that sat on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting puffs of smoke. There was also an enormous, claw footed desk, which he presumed was the headmasters.

Another show of favouritism towards his old house. But why were there so many people in here.

Also present was Professor McGonagall who was holding in her hands, the sorting hat. Harry's mind was whirring but he forced himself not to show any of it. It would not do to show any weakness. Especially not now.

'Dad, mum!' Alexander strode forward to stand next to them. 'Dad, I told the hat not to but…'

'I know, son. I know,' James Potter tried to console his son who was obviously disturbed at being sorted into the house he hated.

His wife, however wasn't looking at Alexander, but at her other son. 'Harry…'

He resisted the flinch that came upon him. The way she called his name was filled with longing, or perhaps regret.

He narrowed his eyes at the familiar way she called him, as if she hadn't abandoned him to her hateful bitch of a sister. 'Professor Potter,' he replied with a nod of his head.

He didn't see her flinch at his formal address as he looked around the office. But before he could look at the headmaster, something drew his attention. Or rather, something flew straight to him.

It was perhaps the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It had crimson feathers on its body and a long golden tail, as long as a peacock's. It was roughly the size of a swan, and its claws were golden as he noticed when it landed on his shoulder.

A phoenix, he realised. He had read about them in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. But why was it coming to him and not going to the saviour boy. Curious.

'Ah. Most curious,' he turned to see the headmaster looking at him with an amused expression. 'Harry, this is Fawkes, my familiar. He normally doesn't allow people to touch him but it seems you are an exception…'

Harry nodded as he stroked its plumes, 'Why am I here, headmaster?'

Perhaps he could have been more subtle but he couldn't find it in himself to be calm. Not right now when he is faced with the parents that abandoned him and he was barely keeping his anger contained. The soothing presence of the phoenix also helped.

If Dumbledore was taken aback by his directness like the others in the room were, he didn't show it. 'Well, I thought you would like to meet your parents.'

It was clear this wasn't a suggestion. It was an order. Which made him wonder why bother with the grandfather façade at all. Gregorovitch had told him about Albus Dumbledore's abilities as a legilimens. As it was, he had nothing to hide and so wasn't afraid to look at him in the eyes.

Almost instantly, he felt the familiar brush of magic inside his head. He averted his eyes to his parents, 'Auror Potter,' he said with a nod.

James Potter was quite clearly taken aback by the extreme formality his son was showing. His son, who looked almost exactly like him, save the face was a tad thinner than the more-rounded face of his or Alex's. Harry also had Lily's eyes. And Rose's. His son, who was a Slytherin, he thought with vehemence.

'Harry…,' Lily Potter started, but hesitated as her son turned to her with those emerald eyes. She couldn't read his face but it was clear he was angry. His fists were clenched, the visible one anyway, and his jaw was tightened. She had always been good at noticing the details, unlike her husband. 'We thought we might explain what happened that night and why…', she stopped as her son shook his head.

'There's no need,' Harry replied. He wasn't sure how he would contain his temper when they start making excuses for their abandonment. He didn't want to listen anyway. So, he saved them the trouble of making excuses.

'No, Harry you need to understand….'

'Alexander's already explained,' Harry was surprised to see the shocked look on the boy's face. Did he not remember? He had clearly explained when talking about his family on the train.

Wait… why was he shaking his head? Was he denying saying it? No matter. He would tell them that he did not care about them.

'Harry, I need to explain why…,' Lily didn't know what Alex had told Harry but she would have to find out later. Harry knew virtually nothing of the wizarding world, even less than her than when she came to Hogwarts and she was a muggleborn. But she had known about being a witch since she was eight, courtesy of the surly man standing in the shadows, clad in his black cloak, as always.

Harry meanwhile, was getting desperate. Why was this incessant woman insisting on rehashing out old wounds that he had buried? He tried a more desperate strategy. One that his uncle employed. He insulted her.

'Explain why you cursed me?' he said, noticing the confusion on her and James' faces as they looked from him to Alex. Good. They were confused. This was going better than he hoped.

'We didn't curse you!' James said, abashed at such a notion, and looked from his son to Albus, looking for help from his mentor.

'No? Then what do you call giving me a decidedly muggle name if not a curse?' Harry was quite pleased at the shocked looks on his parents' faces as they turned from shock to horror to anger.

As it was, he didn't see the narrowing of the headmaster's eyes or those of Professor McGonagall and Snape, at his anti-muggle comment.

James flinched. He was seething. This boy, this Slytherin, was already becoming a blood purist. He was acutely aware that the comment was so very like what his own mother said when he told her of his boy's name.

But his mother had been a Slytherin too. And right now, the last part was more important. He turned to Albus, 'Albus! We need to fix this! Already he's talking like a slimy Slytherin!'

'My boy. I agree. Harry, there's nothing with muggles,' the headmaster answered in his grandfather tone but his eyes weren't twinkling. It showed that he himself thought this as quite a mess.

'No son of mine will be a stinking Slytherin!' he growled, glaring at the hat. 'The hat clearly made a mistake with both of them.'

'I do not make mistakes,' was the hat's clear answer. 'And I will not resort them.'

'James, it's fine. It's not that bad,' Lily tried to placate her husband who was getting more and more worked up. 'Harry doesn't know any better and we can teach him about the wizarding world, now that he's back.' She had been quite shocked at his statement. He hadn't outright said what he thought about muggles but he didn't need to. It was quite clear.

Harry's eyes narrowed at those words. He didn't know any better?! Whose fault was that then? No, he would make it his life's mission to know better and he would show this woman.

'NO! Mum, I can't be in Slytherin!' Alexander said with a pout. 'I'm a Potter! I'm the Boy-Who-Lived!'

'Exactly Lily,' James argued back, siding with his son. 'It's clear something went wrong!'

'He tricked me!' Alex pointed at Harry who turned his head from the phoenix to the boy who was, yet again, throwing a temper tantrum and regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

'How did I do that, Alexander Lilian Potter,' Harry may have emphasised the middle name a little too much as Alex coloured almost immediately.

'You made me think about Slytherin!' he seethed. 'And the hat agreed with you.'

Harry resisted the urge to snort at the stupid answer. What he had done was more than that, but that was the gist of it. Now, to deny it. 'If thinking about other houses was all it took to fool the hat, then countless students would have been sorted into the wrong houses over the centuries.'

'I agree with Potter,' came the drawl from behind him. 'As much as I would hate to have both your spawn in my house, the hat is not wrong.'

Snape was enjoying this immensely. The comment from the other Potter about muggles was concerning but nothing that was new in Slytherin. That and watching James Potter squirm was a delight on its own.

The fact that his Head of House would even side with him clearly surprised everyone. That merited some thought, to Harry. Being at odds with him couldn't be good.

'It is clear that Alexander belongs in Gryffindor, Severus,' the headmaster said and then to Harry, 'Harry, surely you would prefer to be in Gryffindor with your brother and his friends. It was, after all, your parents' house.'

Harry rolled his eyes. Why did he want him in Gryffindor anyway? To make the Potters look like the epitome of light? To have one son in Slytherin clearly harmed that.

He could see by the slight narrowing of the headmaster's eyes that he had read his thoughts. His plan was going all wrong. Well, not all wrong. Alexander's reputation had taken quite a dump when he was sorted into Slytherin. That would stay even if the headmaster were to put him in Gryffindor against the wishes of the sorting hat.

That, Harry admitted, he had not foreseen as happening. 'No, thank you. I am quite content with the hat's decision.'

James Potter bristled at this and even Lily Potter looked slightly put off. 'No. Either you will be in Gryffindor or we will pull you out of Hogwarts immediately!' This was getting bad quickly. Not only was his not a squib as he had thought, and that posed problems on its own, but now both of them were in Slytherin.

Alex, he could manage to get into Gryffindor because, after all, they couldn't have the boy-who-lived being a slimy snake. But his other son was already spouting off James' mother's beliefs despite never having met her.

'What?' it was McGonagall who yelled this. 'You can't blackmail your son like that James Potter! Your mother would be ashamed!'

Lily looked horrified at what he had said. 'No, Minerva. He is not serious!', she gave her husband a warning look that promised pain.

James had the decency to flush at her rebuke but still looked determinedly at Harry.

Harry glared at the audacity of the man. He would dare take away his heritage. Or was he bluffing? No. The idiot, Gryffindor bully didn't seem to have enough brains for that. Time for his own bluff.

He raised his head, looked James in the eye and said, 'Okay.'

James, Lily, Dumbledore and Minerva all looked relieved when he said that but that relief soon turned upside down when he continued.

'Pull me out. I'm sure I can get a place at Beauxbatons, or even Durmstrang, given that I already got a letter from them.'

Their necks snapped towards him as he mentioned the school known for teaching the Dark Arts. And he wasn't even lying when he talked about the letter.

'Harry. No need to be so hasty,' Lily tried to placate her son to calm him down but the trouble was, unlike James, Harry was perfectly calm. She could already tell that unlike both James and Alex, she would need a completely different approach to dealing with Harry. 'James sometimes talks without thinking properly…'

'Why did you get a letter from a school of Dark wizards!' James demanded. 'It's against international law to…'

'That's for me to know and you to find out,' Harry replied, smiling up at his 'family'. 'It's settled, then…'
The permission to leave went unasked but was loud and clear.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. With only a curt nod, Harry turned and walked right out the door, without bothering to acknowledge the others in the room. He was vaguely aware being trailed by his head of house.

They walked in silence. With Harry wondering of the many revelations of this surprising meeting: the unforeseen complication in his plan; Potters clearly against him being in Slytherin and even going so far as to threaten him into Gryffindor; and the fact that Alexander didn't remember talking about Harry Potter on the train. Did that have something to do with the innate talent the hat talked about.

After all, if it was innate, then it should be in all of James and Lily Potter's children for they share the same blood.

'Turn left,' Snape ordered from behind him and he was vaguely aware of complying. And before he knew it, they ended up on a dead end of the wall in a corridor, in the dungeons. Harry cursed his absentmindedness. He had missed the way to the common room, he was so engrossed in his thoughts.

'Aconite,' Snape said, and a section of the wall jutted out and slid aside, revealing the common room.

'Password changes every week and is pinned on the noticeboard. It is not to be told to anyone outside of the house.'

Harry nodded as they crossed the threshold into a room, with a greenish hue. It was a long, low, underground room, with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps hung on chains. A fire crackling on the other side, in an elaborately carved hearth and several Slytherins were silhouetted on couches near the fireplace.

There were other numerous, low backed, black and green button-tufted leather sofas; skulls and dark wooden cupboards. He could see three large bookcases on the right hand a little further away from a large, multi-seat wooden table, for studying presumably.

As soon as they entered, Harry saw the look of apprehension, and not to mention, the suspicion on the faces of the Slytherins. Great. He was already a suspect in his house and he hadn't been here for more than a minute.

He supposed that was expected, when he hadn't said anything at McGonagall seating him at the Gryffindor table at dinner. But then again, he had been expecting to be sorted there anyway. Now, he was thankful he wasn't.

'Your room is on the right, over there,' Snape said pointed to a spiral staircase going down. There was an identical staircase on the left, which Harry presumed led to the girl's dormitories. 'Be here tomorrow at nine o'clock sharp for orientation. Don't… be … late!'

Harry had the unmistakable threat of punishment and nodded to his head of house, anxious to get to his room and retire for the night. Not just because he was tired, but because he could definitely sense some threat from the older Slytherins in the common room.

It hadn't felt like it but he had been in the headmaster's office for an hour. He was slightly disappointed that he didn't have a room to his own but then again, a four-poster bed with comfortable blankets and a good mattress was much more than a thin sheet in the cupboard under the stairs. It seemed that he was sharing the dormitory with Theodore and Zabini.

The others he presumed were in a different room. His trunk was already present and as he went up to it to get his sleeping clothes out, he could already sense Sookie's magic on it.

So, she had taken precaution and warded it herself. Not for the first time, was he thankful of her forethought. He really didn't want his books, unorthodox as they were, getting into the hands of potential threats.

'HARRY!', a woman gave a gut-wrenching scream as she fell.

'AVADA KEDAVRA!'. A flash of green light and blinding pain.

Harry awoke with a start, drenched in sweat, like always. For as long as he could remember, he had the same dream. Of a woman dying. Call out his name.

He fumbled for his glasses, which he felt on the bed-side table. His breathing calmed down just as the world came into view and there was green light in sight. The curtains were drawn but he could see that it was still dark outside.

It was only six. Plenty of time to go out for a run and return in time for the meeting at nine. Taking only his wand, and dressed in a training t-shirt and shorts, running boots, he made his way out of the dormitory and common room and into the damp air of the dungeons.

It took him a while to figure out the way to the Entrance Hall, given that he hadn't been paying attention earlier. But once he figured out the corridors adorned with snakes were leading him out, it was fairly easy.

The morning air was crisp, fresh and cold. Dawn was just breaking, he could see the morning orange light peeking over the mountains surrounding them, giving the castle and the rolling hills an orange hue.

In short, this was the most peaceful he had been for the last ten years of his life. He decided to run along the shore of the great lake, from where the castle was still visible. It must have been a mile or more in diameter, he thought.

A few jogs warmup and then a few sprints, he was thoroughly awake. Passing by the great oak tree on the edge of the lake, he saw there was a little island, with a single tree on it. But what drew his attention was not the island, or the number of trees but the colouring of it. Unlike all others, this one was white.

It looked beautiful in the morning glow. Harry had always liked sitting under trees or climbing them in the park. They were the only space he was safe from Dudley's gang. Dudley was too fat to even attempt climbing and the others were too scared.

Too bad he couldn't get to the island without getting wet. He would need a boat. Unless there was some magic to walk on water. Moses had done it, so maybe Harry could too. Was Moses a wizard then? He had separated the Red Sea with his staff. So maybe, he was one. Just one that used a staff instead of a wand. Like Gandalf.

'Tempus,' he waved his wand but nothing happened. Frowning, he wondered what the prefects had done yesterday. It had worked for them. 'Tempus!' Again, nothing happened. What was he doing wrong?

'Ah. Intent,' he remembered from the journal. He tried again, multiple times, feeding the wand his intent to know the time. After what seemed like the tenth or maybe, the twentieth time, he numbers finally shot out of his wand, reassembling themselves into: 7:10.

A feeling of completion filled him, starting as a warm feeling in his stomach and rising to his chest. This was his first ever, bit of magic done with a wand. Granted, he didn't have a feeling of familiarity with it, but maybe it was just a matter of time. It had chosen him after all. There must be a reason why.

Putting his wand back inside his pocket, Harry turned towards the path leading up to the school. Granted, it would be more difficult running up the hill than walking down it, but it would be worth it in the end.

London's parks were nothing compared to this serene beauty surrounding him. He shot off, much slower than when he started but he had been running for an hour. For a previously starved eleven-year-old, who was just a month into his recovery, that was quite the feat.

Twenty minutes later, he had appeared back into his dormitory, getting various odd looks from people who were up and about the common room and those he had crossed in the entrance hall.

It might have something to do with the fact that he was drenched in sweat from head to toe, his raven hair, normally messy, was sticking his forehead and scalp, and his clothes sticking to his body.

His roommates were just getting up. Theodore grumbled something from the bed as he opened the door. Wincing at the noise, he thought with a little guilt, he could have been a little quieter. Sookie had already put his clothes on his bed.

Harry took them and made his way to the other end, where presumably, the toilets were located. The floor was charcoal grey and curiously, felt a little warm under his bare feet. A warming charm, maybe?

On the other side were three, rather spacious, shower cubicles, with frosted glass doors to make it impossible to see to the other side. Inside, everything was made of white marble, the taps and showers though, were silver.

On the left side of the rather spacious bathroom was a wooden cubicle, equipped with hangers, benches, and full-length mirror, where one could change with privacy. Harry wouldn't be needing it as he had no intention of possibly getting his uniform wet when he didn't know drying charms. Instead, he would use the three wooden cubicles which were meant for changing only.

He didn't explore any further and got to showering, determined to be done with getting ready before everyone else started using the facilities for the morning.

Half an hour later, completely refreshed and cleansed of sweat and grime, he exited the bathroom and made his way to the dormitory. The water had been just the right temperature, despite him not turning the temperature knob.

Harry however, didn't use the bodywash provided by the bathroom. Instead he used the rather expensive shampoo and bodywash he had bought from the body shop in Carkitt Market.

The lady had been quite helpful and very happy at equipping him with all the accessories he could possibly need and some he didn't even need nor did he know what they were, with a promise to send another batch with owl should he need it.

A bleary looking Theodore almost knocked into him as he was entering the toilets and he was exiting. 'You're up early,' he said, his voice a little hoarse, clutching a basket with all his toiletries in it.

That, too Harry, looked like a good idea. He would invest in one, soon. 'Early riser,' Harry replied, making his way to the dorm.

It looked like Blaise was already in the showers as he wasn't in his bed. Harry had deliberately not worn his best robes yesterday, but today was going to be different.

There was a green and silver tie on the edge of his bed, his Slytherin over-robes hanging from his dresser door, his boots by the bed. Mentally thanking Sookie yet again, he put them on, determined not to be so overly reliant on her for the future. It wouldn't do for the greatest wizard on earth not to be able to find his socks without his elf.

A tempus charm again, and he hurried out the door to the common room. It slightly above eight and he had to hurry to breakfast if he wanted to make it to the orientation on time.

He almost knocked into Daphne yet again, when as he hurried out the common room. 'Sorry….,' he mumbled, getting an icy glare from her and a giggle from Tracey. 'Morning, Tracey.'

'Morning, Harry,' she gave a him a look over from top to bottom, settling on his hair.

Sighing Harry ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to flatten it, 'It's no use.' He had given up trying to tame it after all this time.

'I'm sure,' she replied and they left for breakfast together seeing as they were already walking that way. They had no other choice but from the look on Daphne's face, it was clear she didn't want it.

Was she still mad about fooling her yesterday? Probably. She didn't seem like a person who would let go of grudges. 'I don't remember saying you could walk with us, Evans.'

Harry narrowed his eyes at the underhanded insult. So, she wanted to remind him of his muggle ancestry. As much as Harry despised it, he was forced to accept it was true. Tracey looked worriedly from him to her, at her comment.

'Oh, I'm not with you, I'm walking Tracey,' he replied, smirking at the smile he elicited from the brunette and the huff of annoyance from Daphne.

The moment they walked into the Great Hall Harry became aware of the hostile environment. Particularly, towards him. Students glared at him from left to right, whispering behind his back as he walked forward to the front of the Slytherin table, where he had sat yesterday.

'Which one?'

'There you see him, the one with the scar!'

'Isn't that Alex Potter?'

'No, Alex has a V on his forehead. He's Harry.'

'Dark wizard this one'

'Practitioner of the dark arts!'

'How else could they have defeated You-Know-Who?'

He ignored all other whispers but the last one drew his attention. That was new. Did people think he had a hand in whatever happened that night? That wasn't a comforting thought. It stood in the way of what he wanted to achieve. On his own. Not some magical accident.

That said, he would have to research on what could have possibly happened that night. Seeing as his parents were still alive and no one knew the real story. Just that, that night when Voldemort attacked, the house only had him and his brother and when he tried to kill Alexander, the killing curse was deflected and Voldemort somehow defeated. Nothing about the night made any sense.

But amongst the glares being sent his way, quite a few of the hostile looks were from his own house. Particularly from the older Slytherins. They hadn't done anything to him yet but he had no doubt they wouldn't be silent for long. He had been dealing with bullies for so long that he had learnt that about them. Just as his father seemed to give off a bullying vibe.

He ignored the rest of the students, even Daphne sitting further away, seeing the hostility towards him and taking Tracey with her and concentrated on his breakfast while he read over the Charms textbook.

Nothing in there was especially useful in real life. Though, he supposed the lighting charm and the levitation charm could come in handy. If people were terribly lazy that is.

With morning however, came the news and in front of Harry landed a medium sized brown owl, bringing a copy of Daily Prophet. It flew off as soon as Harry had relieved it of its burden. He had no need to pay the owl since he had gotten a subscription of the newspaper.

The headline was as expected, 'The Boy-Who-Lived and secret brother start Hogwarts – Sorted into Slytherin: Sorting Hat mistake or dark wizards in training?'

He chuckled at the stupidity of this woman, whoever Rita Skeeter was. But he supposed he should be thankful to her. She had done most of the work Harry had intended through his little scheme. The article stated a brief version of Alexander's temper tantrum, including the rebuking from his mother and his feminine middle name.

He laughed to himself at that, not caring how weird he looked to his fellow students, who were reading the same article.

'Where's your brother, Mr. Potter?' the prefect from last night asked him as she sat near to him, seemingly not caring about who saw her or her social status within the house, which is why, he presumed, Daphne and Tracey sat away from him. 'You two weren't at the House introduction last night?'

She saw his confused look and forwarded her hand, 'I'm Rosier, Vinda Rosier.'

'Potter, Hadrian Potter,' Harry kissed her hand. 'Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Rosier. Alexander, I believe is…' he motioned with his head.

'Ah,' was her reply as she turned to see Alexander coming into the hall with Ronald Weasley and Longbottom. 'So, his tantrum worked.'

'Yes, I didn't expect it to,' Harry replied truthfully, still a bit miffed how he hadn't seen that coming.

'You didn't grow up with him, I presume?' she asked, now not even bothering to watch Alexander and facing him fully. There was a small part of him that hated the fact that the only reason this beautiful older girl was even talking to him was for information on perfect Alexander.

'I did not,' said Harry, making a cross on yet another spell that he deemed useless. What the hell would a tickling charm be used for.

'Hmm,' was her reply as she took out her wand and without saying a word, displayed the time. 'Come, you're all needed in the common room.' It was clear the order was meant for all first years. Draco, and his friends had just shown up and barely had been there for twenty minutes and as such, didn't get to eat properly.

He sighed. Mercifully the time had passed quickly as he packed his bag, slung it on his shoulder and followed after Emelia. He didn't see the glare being levelled at him from the Gryffindor table. Neither did he see the frown on Granger's face nor the satisfied smirk on Daphne's.

Harry meanwhile was annoyed. Annoyed at Daphne. Annoyed at her making Tracey sit away from him when it was the first time he was actually, possibly making a friend. Therefore, as she and Tracey neared him, he decided to annoy her.

'Ah, Daphne,' Harry said with a blinding smile. Truth me told, he was feeling mischievous and he used to never smile. But something about this made him smile.

Daphne Greengrass, couldn't believe the audacity of this boy. First he made fun of her in front of countless Noble families and their children by knocking her to the ground, and then, instead of apologising, taunted her. That she should have been watching where she was going.

What an impertinent, ill-mannered brat. And then he ignores her when she introduces herself. Granted, at least he wasn't as rude to Tracey, her best friend but it wasn't genuine. That much was obvious. It was a deliberate attempt to make her seem lesser. He even had the audacity to indirectly taunt her on her lack of old ways as he greeted Tracey.

Who did he even think he was? Insufferable git. And then, refused to leave the compartment when she asked him to. And he made her think he was muggleborn. Lied to her face through his teeth and then denied it to her face at the feast yesterday. Yet another insult.

First, she had been convinced that he was just another muggleborn into their world, unfamiliar with their ways and customs and who the important families are. But the way he had dressed leaving the train made her suspect her initial assumption was wrong.

Just after her mother had cleaned her robes using a cleaning charm, she had told off Daphne on her actions ill-befitting a lady of her station and that she would be watched while she was at school. Then she realised. Of course. The insufferable boy was in on it with her mother. The knocking her down was a test and he was a spy for her mother. It wasn't out of Evelyn Greengrass' power to reach out to a muggleborn and make a deal with him.

That had annoyed her to no end. But more so was the revelation at the sorting. Not only had he makde fun of her, but he made a total fool out of her. How did he fool her so easily? She was Daphne, heiress of the Greengrass fortune, and trained to see underneath the underneath, the ways of Slytherin. And this half-blood, abandoned by his own family for being suspected a squib, would dare to fool her.

Of course, it wasn't well known what had become of the second Potter son but Daniel Greengrass had his ways and informants. And when Lucius Malfoy had told them of a boy named Hadrian Potter, her father had done his thorough research.

So, this near squib would dare taunt her make fun of her, in front of her family's acquaintances and allies. She swore last night that she would make him pay for it. Outing his status as near squib would be a tad drastic just for this, but perhaps a few embarrassing moments were justified. After all, she could save the heavier ammunition for later, when it would be more useful later.

'Ah. Daphne,' he neared them, grinning, for some reason she is unable to comprehend. He has just been subjected to the scorn and glaring of an entire hall. He has no reason to grin. And yet, here he was.

Her narrowed at the familiar address. 'I don't believe I gave you permission to use my given name, Potter,' she hissed out, missing the smirk on her friend's face, beside.

She was more occupied by the increasing attention they were getting as they left the hall. Hell, some students were even following them, or did they just happen to leave their breakfasts unfinished at exactly the same time.

He must have gotten the point because he was silent for a few seconds, before his grin returned in full force. 'I suppose, I can call you Daffodil, you know the flower. It's yellow and you're blonde,' he said.

Daphne rolled her eyes. Was that supposed to be charming? He was an idiot. 'How very observant of you, Evans,' she said. 'Indeed, it is a wonder why anyone questions your belonging in our house with your prowess.' The sarcasm in her voice was clear.

By now, they were near the dungeons and descending down the stairs. Potter turned back from his place front of her, 'Well, obviously people question it. Not everyone can be as great as me, after all.'

Pansy guffawed at his tasteless joke while Draco looked a little miffed. Why that insufferable git. He's all but called her jealous. Of him. What a joke.

'Why would anyone be….,' she was about to reply to him and put him in his place when Rosier barked.

'Enough!'

The first years were silenced immediately as Rosier gave the password. 'It is unbecoming of you and against our rules… to argue amongst yourselves like Gryffindors out in public…'

Daphne didn't like being told off, especially by a Rosier but still she held her tongue even though she had a sarcastic comeback all ready to go.

Rosier turned sharply to Potter, and got dangerously close to him, 'Potter. I'm warning you now. You behave in an un-Slytherin manner again and put one toe out of line…'

The threat, unsaid as it was, remained quite clear. 'Of course, Ms. Rosier.'

Draco looked exceptionally pleased at the rebuke Potter got and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his childishness. But then again, her mother would say the same thing to her, when she undoubtedly heard. All because of Potter, she thought with disdain. Oh, how he will rue the day he decided to annoy her.

But that was unimportant as their Head of House entered the common room.

Inside, Harry was quite pleased. Yes, he had gotten a rebuke from the prefect for arguing out of the common rooms, but there was a method to his madness. He had known no one would tell him the rules of the house, as they went over them last night, when he was wasting precious time with his 'family' and so he had to resort to deliberately provoking the prefect into telling him off.

As Professor Snape entered the common room, all fell silent. He gave them a scrutinising look and maybe it was his imagination but his black orbs settled on Harry for longer than others or strictly necessary. 'Oh, I am quite certain, Mr. Potter is aware. Act like a foolish Gryffindor again, and you will be scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the term.'

'Professor Sinistra went over house rules last night, and I am not in the habit of repeating instructions, as you will soon find out,' Snape sneered in his direction.

He hadn't even raised his voice, and spoke with the seriousness of someone delivering an obituary, yet every single person stood to attention. Including him.

Harry had to bite back the retort that came to his mind at the blatant unfairness. But when had his life ever been fair. Maybe it was a bad idea to choose Slytherin last night when Professor Snape had made it clear how he would hate to have any Potters in his house.

But he had done it spite James Potter and his arrogant son and he had to stand by his decision. So, given by Rosier's earlier statement and Snape's threat just now, he could surmise that the first rule in Slytherin was either, not to act like a Gryffindor, which was too vague that it was unlikely a man like Snape would instate it.

So, it had to be, unity. Slytherins always supported each other in public, whether they agree with the other person or not. And as Rosier emphasised arguing in public, it meant that that disputes were only to be resolved in the common room, away from prying ears who could use the information against them somehow.

A little paranoid, but Harry could see the logic in it. But then again, it went against his nature as well. If a bully like Draco and his thugs were bullying some innocent non-Slytherins, would be expected to stand by and let it happen? Be silent?

He had no doubt that he would try and stop it. But how, was the question.

'For the first week, you will be escorted to your classes by a prefect or an older Slytherin. I will give you a tour of the main parts of the castle now, so you will not be late for your first classes,' with that Snape, whirled around and left the common room, no doubt expecting them to follow him.

His black cloak billowed in the non-existent wind of the dungeons and Harry wondered how he managed to get it that way. His very aura seemed to exude power and threat that he was not to be messed with. That was something that Harry wanted to emulate.

But as a first year who could only do a tempus charm and nothing else, he wasn't one who anyone would be intimidated by.

They had already seen the Great Hall and Entrance hall so Snape skipped those, and instead took them to the large open courtyard on the ground floor where students liked to spend their free time outside of lessons. There was a large oak three in the middle and several benches around the area where even now, students sat mingling and sharing stories of their summers.

On the end of one corridor was a bright pink door. It greatly amused him when Snape pointed it out, with a death glare, that that was the staff room and had, until yesterday, been a normal brown door.

'Weasleys twins,' Rosier muttered under her breath, her disdain clear in her voice. So, Fred and George, as he had learnt from Ron yesterday, who had insisted on carrying out the long, slow, drawn out funeral march of their school song last night.

He had heard of their various exploits and mischiefs. No doubt, they would be quite vindictive if he somehow managed to get on the wrong side of them. But it remained to be seen whether they were as bigoted about Slytherins as Ronald and Alexander were.

They briefly met Professor McGonagall who was on her way to her classroom as Snape showed them the five towers of the castle, each forming a support structure. They passed the Transfiguration classroom which Snape pointed out, and which Morga looked quite interested in.

He also noted that unlike the headmaster's office, the entrance to Professor McGonagall's office, which was next to the transfiguration room, bore no sign of favouritism to her old house. Instead, it merely had a parchment on it, that showed her free times and open office hours, should a student wish to talk.

That, he noted, was not on Snape's door. He doubted Snape even had an open office policy. From there, they were taken to the first floor, which had much the same layout as the ground floor. It had two girl's lavatories – one of which was permanently broken – the muggle studies classroom and the hospital wing.

They were to return there after their orientation, according to their head of house. The second floor also had a girl's lavatory with a large, white pillared, multi sink past the door. The ghost that inhabited it, was a particularly whiny girl who had been a Ravenclaw, as was evident from her uniform. Apparently, she was quite fond of retelling her death story to anyone who would listen and lament her lot in life or after life, he mused.

The floor also had the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, History of Magic classroom – which Harry was quite looking forward to – and the lost wands room. It also had the Matron's Office, which he thought would have made more sense to be on the first floor with Hospital Wing but he had learnt that wizards were rarely logical.

The third floor, contained their Charm's classroom, which was going to be their first lesson after lunch. They made note of its position beside the staircase leading up to the fourth floor. The right-hand side corridor, was shrouded in darkness but other than that, there was no sign that it was sealed. Snape reminded them that it was forbidden and anyone caught going to it, would be severely punished.

Which prompted another question in his head. Why not seal the damn thing, instead of making such a fuss about it. The fourth floor consisted of a room that became the trophy room when it shifted from the third to the seventh floors on each day of the week; a Care of Magical Creatures classroom; several offices and an armoury that contained quite a few medieval weapons. Harry resolved to come look at it later.

The fifth floor was largely bypassed. The only room of remote interest was the Wizard Card Collecting Club and all the other rooms were dedicated to subjects they might take at third year or above.

The sixth floor was much the same and contained offices of several teachers and abandoned classrooms. That gave him the distinct impression that Hogwarts used to house a lot of more than it now does. Perhaps, he would research how many more.

The seventh and the last floor, was inundated by Gryffindors, which Harry presumed was where their common room would be. Several of them glared quite openly at the Slytherins as if expecting them to attack at any moment.

Where this animosity comes from, Harry didn't understand. There was a spiral staircase that would lead them to the highest tower in the castle, the Astronomy Tower where they would have their Astronomy classes.

Harry hadn't met the Astronomy Professor yet unlike the rest of the first year Slytherins. Professor Sinistra, the only other Slytherin teacher, had done the introduction to the house yesterday night.

Pansy and Draco were at the forefront of their group as they ascended the staircases that would lead to the open Astronomy classroom.

Harry noted on each side, the various posters detailing the movement of planets, stars and their own galaxy of each side of the staircase.

'AAHHHHHHHHH!' he whipped his head round Pansy's bloodcurdling scream.

'Merlin's beard!' Draco yelled. Harry could see him shaking from his position.

Snape rushed at a speed, which Harry would not have thought possible from the passive man, from his place in the back, his black wand held out in front of him.

'What in the world…' Harry mused as he and others went over to see what had terrified Pansy to make her shake so badly, while clutching her darling Draco.

Rosier was nowhere to be seen, as she had left for her class. The sight that greeted them was one he would never forget in his life.

The dark-skinned Astronomy Professor, lay sprawled out on the floor, her face full of unimaginable anguish; eyes bloodshot and bulging; blood streamed down her face from her eyes, ears and nose, had already dried and caked.

It was obvious she was tortured to death and yet, his head of house was quite calm, deceptively so, as he waved his wand at her corpse and muttered incantations under his breath.

Whipping his wand around, he incantated, 'Expecto Patronum!'

From the tip of his wand, burst an ethereal, silver doe as she landed on the floor and bounded forwards, gone in an instant.

Turning to see his student, still frozen at the shock of seeing the grisly murder of one of their Professors, he yelled, 'Everyone to common room, now!'

Startled out of their shock, they hurried to obey, bustling down the stairs in a manner uncharacteristic of Slytherins.

The walk back was eerily quiet as each absorbed what they had seen. How could someone get into the castle, commit murder right under the nose of the leader of the light? It was unthinkable. Yet it was done.

Harry's petty argument with Daphne was long forgotten as watched how pale she had become, an icy look still on her face. Tracey had her arm clutched in hers as they walked silently to the common room.

The silence in the common room was deafening when Harry decided to leave and get some reading done. Anything to get his mind off of the murder on his very first day at school. The obvious place to go was the library. It had always been his safe haven from Dudley and his gang.

The thousands of books in the large haven of knowledge was stunning. One could spend an entire lifetime learning all the spells and magical lore in this hall and it will still be insufficient. At best, one would require several lives just to get through it.

That made him wonder how had large entities such as Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort, Gellert Grindelwald even come about. How come their knowledge and magical power was so superior to everyone else's?

But one thing was certain. Every great wizard, even Merlin, started out as nothing more than what he is now. A student. If they could gain that knowledge, why not him. He may be cursed to be related to muggles and named after a muggle Roman emperor but he was not going to let it hold him down. He would show his 'parents' that abandoning him was a mistake.

And with all those dreams of learning all the magic he possibly could, he took his Charm's text and started making notes. Flitwick would undoubtedly ask questions and it would not do to be unable to answer them. It was two hours to lunch and then the first lesson he would ever have in magic, was Charms with the tiny Professor.

As he had left the library, with a couple of more charms books then he had arrived with and went to lunch, it was clear that the news of the murder hadn't gotten around yet. Probably because most students were already in their classes at the time and were just getting out.

On the way, he had seen more than a few people dressed in purple robes. Aurors, he remembered from a pamphlet he had read in Diagon Alley. Obviously, they were investigating the murder.

As he had lunch, he had noticed that there was unspoken agreement among the Slytherins not to talk about it. She was, after all, one of them and they would not provide entertainment to the other houses by gossiping about her death.

It turned out that he was terribly, mistaken when he had thought that the first Charms lesson would be with Professor Flitwick. No, his luck just had to show its ugly face as they walked into classroom, and he was greeted with the face of Lily Potter, dressed in trouser and a shirt, thick red hair, done up in a bun.

Yes, he had seen his timetable but it was still a disappointment to see that they shared this class with the Gryffindors. What a pity.

Her face, reflected many emotions as she saw him, which he was determined not to seem to notice. Her emerald eyes, similar to his, a shade or two lighter, went from happiness, to sadness in a span of a few seconds before she gave a brilliant smile to Alexander as he walked in Weasley and the Irish boy and sat at the very front.

Unfortunately for them, Granger had already taken the very first seat so only Potter and Weasley could sit in the first row, leaving Irish to the dark-skinned boy and Longbottom.

Harry had planned to sit in the front but as soon as he saw who would be their teacher, he had changed his mind. Too bad for him, the others did too. And Slytherins took their seats starting from the back. Daphne, quite clearly and blatantly, put her bag on to the empty seat next to her, when he was deciding whether to take it, giving him raised eyebrow and a smirk.

As sad it was, he was forced to take the seat second from the front on the left-hand side, determined to ignore the glares being levelled at him courtesy of Weasley.

He had heard some of the rumours Weasley had been spreading amongst the Gryffindors about Harry being dark because he had attempted to fool Weasley into Slytherin. To make him join the death eaters. What a foolish boy. Such narrowmindedness.

'Good afternoon class,' Lily Potter started, and was rewarded with an enthusiastic reply from the Gryffindors and a subdued one from the Slytherins but she carried on. 'First of all, let me give my condolences on the death of Professor Sinistra. She was a good and very competent teacher, a good friend. Rest assured, her death is being thoroughly investigated by the headmaster and the Aurors.'

'Do we know how she died?' Granger asked, sitting up very straight.

'Yes,' the Professor nodded. 'From what Professor Snape, and Madam Pomfrey determined, she died because of a condition she was suffering from, known as brain haemorrhage.'

'So, she wasn't killed, then?' Alexander asked his mother. Harry wasn't the only who noticed the insensitivity at his question.

The Professor did too and with a look that promised pain later, she answered, 'No. Mr. Potter. She died because of a medical condition.'

Alexander didn't look convinced at that, and to be honest neither was Harry. The way she was sprawled out, and the anguish on her, didn't suggest medical condition but what did he know anyway. Alexander muttered something in Weasley's air at which the body eagerly nodded.

Three guesses as to what that is. They would undoubtedly try to poke their large noses in the investigation. He didn't even need to overhear them to realise that.

'Now that we have that cleared up, let's start,' Lily Potter flicked her wand at the black board, and instantly, the words 'Basic Charms Theory' appeared in chalk. Maybe that was already written there and she just removed the spell keeping it hidden.

Harry noted that Granger sat up rigidly straight, her quill poised to start talking immediate notes as she listened with rapt attention. That didn't go amiss by the students or the Professor, who had a slight smile.

'First let me explain how your Charms classes are going to work,' Professor Potter came forward from behind her desk. 'It has been decided that Gryffindor-Slytherin class will be taken by me for the first term, while Professor Flitwick takes the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw class. Next term, we will switch house combinations and teachers. So, the second it will be Slytherin-Hufflepuff and Gryffindor-Ravenclaw being taught by Professor Flitwick and me respectively. Can anyone tell me why this is better than the previous versions?'

It seemed that the class was to be more like a discussion. Harry didn't know if he liked it better or no. Reminded him too much of the disaster that was primary school.

Granger immediately threw her hand up in the air, as some people snickered, mostly Slytherins. Though, there were some Gryffindors present as well.

'Go ahead, Ms?' the Professor nodded at her, seeing as no one else had raised their hand.

'Granger, Professor. It gives students a chance to get to know others in the other houses as well as experience different teaching styles and see which suits them better,' she answered in one breath, eliciting a smile from the Professor and a grumble of something from Weasley.

'Indeed. Ms. Granger is right,' Professor nodded. 'Five points to Gryffindor. I conduct my classes differently.'

Harry was getting a really bad feeling about this. What could she be planning?

'In my classes, I will pair each person up with a member of another house when the assignment calls for group work or partners. I don't care about trivial house rivalries and you will work together or serve detention. There's no reason not to start now.'

Now Harry understood. That was quite a clever and underhanded tactic. He had to admit. He had made it quite clear last night that he didn't want to interact with his 'family' so the headmaster forces him to.

The question was, why was he so adamant. Enough to pair two houses whose rivalry was legend. What could he possibly gain out of this? Was this to merely keep an eye on Harry and keep him under his control?

'So, all of you stand up and move to your new partners desk as I call the names,' the Professor picked up a parchment from her desk.

Harry was dreading what was coming. Yet he knew it was unavoidable.

Tracey Davis and Alexander Potter

Daphne Greengrass and Ronald Weasley

Hadrian Potter and Parvati Patil

Millicent Bulstrode and Sophie Roper

Morag McDougal and Seamus Finnegan

Pansy Parkinson and Neville Longbottom

Theodore Nott and Lavender Brown

Blaise Zabini and Fay Dunbar

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

Vincent Crabbe and Kellah

Gregory Goyle and Alice McKinnon

Harry was pleasantly surprised and pleased when he was paired up with his arrogant brother. It must have shown on his face because from the corner of his eye, he saw the saddened look on the Professor's face.

Well, it wasn't his fault he didn't want to sit with him. But it did go to show that she was not going to force the issue on the first day and give him time to settle in and accept them. Pity. He wasn't ever going to.

He resisted the urge to giggle at Daphne's face when Weasley slumped into the seat next to her, but not before glaring at her for good measure. Never being one to let go a slight, she scowled fiercely at him as well.

But nothing she could do beat the disgusted look that was Draco's and Pansy's faces, mirroring each other at being forced to sit with such partners.

Almost everyone had settled down on their seats when the cute Indian girl approached his table, with a little uncertainty. He couldn't blame her. He hated having partners for anything and preferred to work alone.

Nonetheless, being civil was expected. He gave a smile and she felt visibly at ease. As soon as she neared, Harry abruptly stood up from his desk.

He could tell she was confused and a perhaps a little hurt that he didn't want to sit with her and others were looking at them curiously.

But the Patils were an old pureblood line from India. Harry had already botched up his first impression with Daphne and Tracey and was determined not to do the same with others.

'Mr. Potter, what…?' the Professor was about to continue when Harry introduced himself, 'Hadrian Potter.'

The girl seemed a little surprised at this but nonetheless, replied, 'Parvati Patil.'

Bowing, Harry took her hand in his – she hadn't forwarded hers – and brushed his lips on her knuckles, noticing the gasp from the girl and a few others, 'A pleasure, Ms. Patil.'

What was going on? Did he do something wrong? No, he had done everything by the book, just like Tracey. So why was this girl going red?

He was tempted to ask if she was feeling alright when she said, 'Please, call me Parvati.'

He was a little surprised that she would offer her first name on the first meeting but replied in kind, 'Harry.'

And as they took their seats, he was well aware of the number of eyes glued to them but ignored them. Parvati however, looked like she was going to get even redder.

Maybe she was embarrassed. Maybe he had embarrassed her. That wasn't a comforting thought. Did he botch up his second first impression as well?

'Hem hem…,' the Professor coughed, getting the students' attention back to herself, and continued. 'Good. We're all settled. Now before we begin on charm's theory, let us start with something basic.'

At this her eyes wandered around the class, obviously looking to pick on someone for a question.

'Can anyone tell me what they know about magic?', she asked, and as usual Granger's hand shot up in the air.

Professor Potter didn't pick her immediately but had to choose her when no one else volunteered.

'Magic is the supernatural force that exists in magic sensitive being and can alter the reality on a fundamental. But it still, in many ways, follows the laws of physics, like the conservation of mass and energy. Magic is thought to be a hereditary trait, passed down from one's ancestors which allows witches and wizards to practise magic but it can also appear in person's born from muggles,' Granger replied, with a smug look as she completed her answer.

'Nearly word for word from the book, impressive Ms. Granger,' the Professor replied. 'Five points to Gryffindor.'

Harry rolled his eyes at the girl. He didn't think it was that impressive to rote learn something from a book and then spout it out. Apparently, his partner who too shook her head, thought similarly.

'Do you have anything to add, Mr. Potter?' Professor asked her son, Alexander who sat with Tracey and was snickering at something. Harry turned to see if he actually knew anything worthwhile unlike Granger.

Apparently, he had done something to annoy her already as she was scowling. Behind her, Daphne who was sitting with Weasley had a similar expression.

He immediately knew Alexander was going to be smug about it, as he puffed up his chest slightly and answered, 'Magic is power that we can use to make things happen the way we want them to.'

In a nutshell, that was it but put very simply. Somewhat disappointing from someone who was being trained by Dumbledore.

Seeing Harry's questioning gaze, Parvati whispered, 'You don't think that's right?'

'It's partially right. I think,' Harry replied, turning back to see Professor Potter give him five more points to Gryffindor. This was looking bad for them. They were not ten minutes into the class and Gryffindor had already earnt fifteen points. 'But his explanation has some holes.'

He really didn't like volunteering anything. Bad experiences. But he could feel and hear the Slytherins getting antsy with every correct answer a Gryffindor gets and receives points for. So far, Slytherin had nil. It didn't sit well with Harry as he raised his hand.

He could have sworn it was just his imagination, but her eyes seemed somehow more alive…?

'Harry,' she motioned to him. He was somewhat annoyed at this familiar address but let it go, for now.

Harry wondered how to word it so people didn't think he was just spouting crap and at the same time, cement his views in front of the Slytherins, 'It is a gift, a manifestation of our will, given physical form so long as we have the necessary energy to power our intent.'

He hadn't come and said it outright, but perhaps the more perceptive of the Slytherins would guess what he was trying to say. And it seemed like the Professor had.

'Yes, that was correct. Five points to Slytherin,' she replied and then told them to open their books onto the first chapter.

By the end of the lesson, Harry had managed to gain Slytherin twenty more points, putting Gryffindor five points behind them. He would be loathed to admit it, but he quite enjoyed Professor's method of teaching.

But he was always one to recognise talent when he saw it. And the effortless way she twirled her wand, conjuring a dragon made entirely from sparks and spouting a small harmless fireball, was a testament to why she was the youngest charms master in a century.

And more than anything, it gave him the drive to beat her. He would surpass her. He would surpass Dumbledore, even Gellert Grindelwald.

The only other class they had was History of Magic, which was taught by a ghost, named Binns. He had been a old Professor, who had fallen asleep on the staff room table, and got up to teach, leaving his body behind.

He had opened his book, and droned on and on, like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly in the class was in a dead stupor – which he failed to notice – occasionally getting up to copy down a name or a date and then falling asleep again.

Try as he might, Harry couldn't help but sleeping in his class and by the end of it, he was certain that one of the most important subjects they would ever learn would be wasted on such a teacher.

And so, the first day of his magical schooling passed, without them ever having taken out their wands. It was quite disappointing to learn that they wouldn't be practising any magic in their Charms classes Halloween.

It remained to be seen if other classes would be the same. After dinner, and another trip to the library, where he saw the bushy haired girl sitting behind a rather large mountain of books, he ended his first day of magical education.

By the end of the week, he had come to enjoy most of his lessons, bar History of Magic of course. But he did find them a tad tedious. Only because of his preparation, he found the subject matters and theory, quite repetitive.

That didn't mean he didn't push himself to learn more theory, or read as much as he could about the subjects. Their first transfiguration class had started out fascinating. Professor McGonagall had demonstrated this complicated branch of magic, by turning into a cat and back, effortless.

Animagus, she called it. Some of the most complex and dangerous magic one could undertake and when successful, the witch or wizard had to register with the Ministry of Magic. If not, and they were discovered, it would mean significant prison time.

He did find the concept of turning into an animal quite intriguing, if a bit redundant and useless. What could see do as a cat, especially if people what her form was? Aside from sneaking into places?

His question on if she gained certain abilities of cats, while in her human form – as transfiguration changes the characteristics of the object, inside and out – gained him ten points for Slytherin, which Hufflepuff seemed quite miffed about.

She, like Snape, also had the ability to keep the entire class silent to pin drop, by merely glaring at them. 'Transfiguration is some of the most dangerous and complex magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around will leave and not come back. You have been warned,' was what the Professor had told them before starting on the very complex theory on mutare spells including their formulae. Again, in their first transfiguration class, they hadn't practiced any magic, but went over the wand movements necessary.

Herbology, was one of the duller subjects that he was forced to endure, with Ravenclaws, who were quite the contenders and eager learners, giving Granger a run for her money in the classes they shared with Gryffindors, or so he heard.

The only interesting aspect he could find in the subject, were the uses of magical fungi and plants in potions, how to grow and prepare them the right way. Of course, they had just begun the introduction but he doubted the rest would be much more interesting.

Defence Against the Dark Arts, was taught by an entirely and utterly incompetent moron of a teacher, who jumped at the slightest noise, or even his shadow a few times. How he could teach was beyond him. Of course, that was assuming anyone understood what he even said with all his stammering. The fool.

That was now two important subjects that he was spending money on and not understanding one bit. He had to do something about it as he refused to squander seven years of education of two rather important subjects.

Harry shuddered at the thought that they would be forced to endure seven years of Quirrell and Binns. Unless by some miracle, someone exercised Binns and Quirrell left on another sabbatical.

Of course, they hadn't had any Astronomy lessons which were scheduled, as the unexpected 'medical death' of the Professor left the headmaster in a bit of a quandary as to where to find the replacement. They had, however, seen advertisements for job interviews in the Daily Prophet and posters up around the school. If that was how Hogwarts finds teachers, then they were in trouble.

Aside from lessons, Harry was being actively shunned by his house, largely. For something that was beyond his control – being a Potter. But Harry, who had tried to make friends for the first couple of days had given up by the time Friday rolled around. Most of his house, was of the opinion that he made a big mistake by not following Alexander to Gryffindor, because that was apparently where he belonged.

Draco and Daphne, most disappointedly, were two of them. Other than the fact that he was an arrogant bully, and liked to parade his father's name instead of his own achievement, he was rather Gryffindorish. That didn't mean, however, that he wasn't cunning. Because he was cunning, wrapped in an arrogant, blonde bundle. And for that, Harry respected him, even if begrudgingly.

He was on good speaking terms with Blaise and Tracey but that was it. Theodore, even though shared a dormitory with Harry, treated him with silence. And after attempting to speak to him twice, Harry had refused to try again.

He was not going to humiliate himself by begging for his housemates' attentions. He would be better than all of them. Other than that, Harry had mercifully, no contact with his 'family'. They hadn't had Charms again, but did have quite a lot of homework for it - two rolls of parchment on the lighting charm.

Truth be told, he did miss maths a little. He had always been good at it and now he had no use for it. It was a little disheartening but he supposed trading in maths for magic was a good deal.

Even though he had always been shunned in the muggle world because of the Dursleys, he had thought that he would finally find a place to belong in the magical one. And try as he might, to ignore it, all this constant glares, shunning and isolation was taking a toll on him.

He occasionally exchanged a few civil sentences with Blaise, and was somewhat friendly with Tracey but every time he would want to talk to her, Daphne would be there. And every time that girl opened her mouth to him, barbed jibes fell out. Hell, she was more friendly with Alexander than him and he didn't know how to fix it. Even if she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, that didn't mean he was going to give the satisfaction of seeing him beg for her attention. He was better than that.

On top of which, his nightmares had increased by a lot, his scar hurt like hell every time he was even close Quirrell, and by the time he was done with the Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, he would have a throbbing headache. Perhaps it was the overwhelming stench of garlic that seemed to seep into his robes.

As it was, he was very nearly close to being late for the first potions class ever, first thing in the morning. Neither of his moronic dormmates had woken him up and left him. He rushed through his shower, forwent breakfast and rushed to the Potions lab. He was lucky it was the in the dungeons so he didn't have to cross the entire castle.

Snape already hated him enough, what with all the sarcastic comments and sneers he sent his way. Of course, he hadn't outright told anybody in his house, but those glares and comments while he sometimes visited in the common room, made it pretty obvious to anyone that he didn't like Harry being in Slytherin, and they weren't to like it either.

And being the head serpent, the sheep quickly obliged the insufferable greasy bastard. What had he ever done to the man? Asides from the being the son of the man he loathed. Not only had his attitude resulted in Harry's isolation, but the Slytherins never made space for him at the table if by chance he was late to meals. Going as far as to put extra bags and books on any available space, all without speaking a word.

It happened twice when he walked up and down the length of the table, but got no space to sit as students quickly filled up any empty space and he refused to even go to the Hall if he wasn't at least fifteen minutes early to any meal.

The only consolation in all this mess was that Tracey always looked at him with a sorry expression. But she could hardly do anything about it and he wouldn't ask her to anyway. She had it bad as well, being a half-blood, whose parents had stayed neutral during the war, despite many of their associates having chosen the dark side.

But of course, no one had it as bad as Harry, being the son of the epitome of Light family, brother of the one who defeated Lord Voldemort and prevented a golden era of pureblood supremacy. That in itself sounded suspicious to him and he resolved to research the causes and effects of the last war when he had spare time.

There must be a reason why so many pureblood, sensible, civilised families sided with a megalomaniac, murdering, psychopath. But he pushed it all out of his mind as he rushed to get the lab before the door opened.

As it was, he had made just in time. Only the Slytherins were there, some standing round the corner, blatantly and not at all subtly covering the entrance to the corridor that led to their common room. Draco as usual was standing with Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle who were guffawing at something or other he said.

Daphne and Tracey seemed to be arguing about quidditch with Blaise and Theo. As he neared, he immediately noticed Daphne's expression turn icy, as she huffed and turned away from him. Not wanting to let an opportunity to annoy her go, he grinned, 'Ah, dear Daffodil. How are you this fine morning?'

Daphne huffed, annoyed that he still insisted on calling her that ridiculous name, 'It was going well until I saw you, Evans and don't call me that!'

Since there weren't any Gryffindors present, Harry thought it was alright to reply, something that would most certainly provoke an argument. 'Well, since I am here, my handsome visage with undoubtedly improve your day.'

Daphne resisted the urge to roll her eyes, if only because rolling her eyes was unbecoming and she wasn't going to let this boy get her so low.

But as she was going to reply, an angry Draco surged forward, 'Watch what you say, Potter,' he spat the last word as if venom. Surprisingly, Harry didn't disagree with the action. 'You don't even belong in this noble house. A filthy, poor, half-blood like you.'

Harry merely raised his eyebrow. It wasn't a secret that he was half-blood, but how the hell is he aware of his financial problems. Still, he had to deflect this line of thought lest he be made famous as the poor Potter brother.

'Mr. Malfoy, how nice of you join us,' Harry said. 'And I'm not following?', he asked with a questioning look, hopefully Draco would fall into his trap. It was a good thing Gryffindors weren't here.

'What I mean is, this is the noble of Salazar Slytherin, for those of magical lineage. A Potter, who doesn't even know our customs like his blood traitor father and brother, belongs in Gryffindor where all the riff raffs go,' Draco smirked, having found his calm just as Pansy gave a shrill laughter, and his goons guffawed.

Daphne too have a scoff at Harry's expense. So, she agreed as well? Well then, if you can't beat them, join them, until you find a way to beat them.

Harry smiled, 'Remarkably, I don't disagree.'

He could see Draco expected him to argue that he was indeed a Slytherin, as did Daphne who had a momentary frown which disappeared as quickly as it came.

'You see, I asked the hat to be put in Gryffindor,' Harry said sadly, 'Alas, I'm a Slytherin.'

Harry knew as soon as he said it that his life was going to become considerably more difficult in Slytherin house. It was bad enough having a Potter in Slytherin, but it was much worse, when that Potter had wanted to be a Gryffindor.

But Harry would deal with it as it came. No point worrying about it now. 'Is that all, Malfoy?'

'For now,' Draco answered with grit teeth. 'You better watch you back, Potter. Blood traitors and house traitors aren't tolerated in Slytherin.'

'I'll be fine,' Harry was well aware that they couldn't do anything fatal to him, at least at school. 'If only because I can see Daffodil's face every morning.'

He could see that Daphne had heard it, even though she had turned away, as her eyes narrowed to almost closed.

'Tracey, how are you doing?'

'Very well, thank you, Harry,' Tracey was going to say more but a not so subtle elbow from Daphne stopped him.

He didn't sigh sadly, as much as wanted to. It was clear that he didn't belong in Slytherin. He didn't like the people, except Tracey but she more or less does what Daphne tells her to and even though she speaks cordially with him, he knew they weren't friends.

The people in his house hated him. And he didn't know why. But that nothing compared to the people in other houses. He had only been here a week, but he had heard more than his fair share of malicious rumours and lies, behind his back and sometimes right in front of him. And Slytherins, for all their rules of unity, did nothing to stop them.

He knew he wasn't cunning, or determined to great. Why in the name of Merlin had the damn hat chosen him for Slytherin? Perhaps, his little scheme with Alexander was a mistake. It had clearly backfired.

Alexander was back to being worshipped like a god and Harry was all but a pariah. If only he could turn back time. No! There was no use in self-pity. It would only waste his time. He had made his made, now he had to lie in it. But he would be damned if he allowed other people to break him, as much as they want to.

There was something different about Evans today, Daphne could feel it. The moment he had come down the dungeons and rounded the corner, she could tell something was different. Something… wrong.

And try as she might, as exchanged barbs with the half-blood, she couldn't put her finger on it. As usual, he grinned and smile as he saw her, being cordial with Tracey only because he knew she didn't like her best friend talking to him and tried to distance them.

Daphne couldn't help but disdain Evans. He hadn't been in their world for more than a week and already he was acting like he was a pureblood. He didn't outright say it but his Acromantula silk robes and dragonhide boots said it quite clearly. What a hypocrite. He didn't even know the first thing about their customs.

Hell, he had dressed up in despicable muggle clothes that were two or three sizes too big for him at the platform where everyone could see him, humiliating himself and potentially everyone he talked to. It was just her luck that that somebody turned out to be her. And not only that, but the insufferable git had succeeded in fooling her.

Her! Heiress of House Greengrass who had been trained since she was eight to look underneath the underneath had been fooled by this no good, muggle loving Dumbledore worshipping half-blood. That really didn't sit well with her.

On top of that, he insisted on calling that foolish nickname. Daffodil! Her hair didn't remotely resemble the flower. And now, he was taking to Tracey about her interest in being a beater for the Slytherin quidditch team, much to Pansy's horror and Millicent's scowling.

Tracey loved flying in general and was more than a fanatic for her favourite team, the Tutshill Tornadoes, and would love to play beater. Except of course, she was a lady, grown up in pureblood culture and it was beneath her station to do so, as Pansy always liked to remind Millicent and Tracey of the fact.

Bloody Evans. Why does he insist on encouraging her foolish dream? Didn't he know how damaging it could be to her reputation within Slytherin. Just as she was about to rebuke him, the thundering on foots on the cold, stone floor was heard.

That could only mean one thing. The Gryffindors had arrived. With no sense of organisation whatsoever, they rushed into the dungeons. One wonders how they can stand to be uncivilised. They weren't even trying to be quiet and it was entirely too early in the day for their noise.

She could see the change in Evans' posture. It stiffened a little just as the Gryffindors rounded the corner, as single mass of red and gold, Alex Potter leading them.

From his place at the front of the pack, or rather, pride, Alex's eyes instantly sought out his brother, who he hadn't talked since the night in the headmaster's office. Harry was standing at the back of the group of Slytherins, casually leaning against the wall and facing away, listening to the two witches they had shared the compartment with, and much to his chagrin, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini!

He clenched his teeth together, not entirely deliberately, angered at the very idea of his brother hanging out with those two of all people! He needed to be taught what was right and wrong, his father had told him a week ago.

Now Alex saw what that meant. Harry didn't know anything about their world, and he didn't know who was dark and who was light.

'Harry!' he called out, letting his voice carry all the way across the dungeon's corridor, making himself instantly heard over the chatter of his Gryffindors by everyone in front of the potion's lab. But Harry gave him no sign that he had even heard him.

However, the slight way he turned his back to him, giving more attention to the conversation going on in front of him, gave him away, as he ignored all the stares he was receiving. His friends – if he had any – didn't give Alex any attention either. But he was not to be deterred so easily.

It was actually remarkable how quickly Harry had adapted to being stared at. Of course, it was nothing new to Alex. He was the Boy-Who-Lived after all. Of course, Alex would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the attention. He had after all, defeated the greatest dark wizard ever, in history.

And he was a Gryffindor, therefore he crossed the corridor in large strides, walking straight through the crowd of snakes, stopping just in front of Harry and his friends. Ron quickly fell in behind him, and Seamus and Dean behind them.

He was glad to have his best friend's and dormmates' support, even if he didn't need it. Harry finally turned to face him directly, and for the first time since the headmaster's office, Alex took the time to look at his brother.

Alex, Harry found, shared more of his traits with their father than even he did. Their hairstyle was similar, perpetually messy, falling to their necks and sticking out the back, their colours were quite different.

While Alex had a mixture of dark brown from their father and soft red from their mother, Harry's hair was raven black. Where he got that hair, Alex couldn't say. Maybe one of their grandparents had black hair.

Behind Harry's fringe was peeking the red lightning bolt scar, in the exact same place as the red V on his own forehead, marking them both survivors of You-Know-Who's attack ten years ago. But unlike Harry's lightning bolt scar, Alex's V marked him as the Boy-Who-Lived, the only one in history to ever survive the killing curse. V for Vol…. You-Know-Who.

Harry meanwhile, was doing the same thing, as he presumed that Alex was doing. He was glad to see that he had a thinner face than Alex's rounder one. While Alex had hazel eyes of James Potter, Harry himself had emerald ones.

It was quite odd, he thought. Lily Potter's eyes, he had noticed weren't emerald but a soft forest green. Where did he get his eyes? Maybe one of the muggle grandparents?

Alex had noticed the same thing. The more vibrant, shade of green of Harry's instead of their forest green, put him on edge for some reason. And that unsettling colour was being used to stare at him – unnerving him slightly.

Daphne resisted the urge to grin at how the events had worked themselves to her favour. When it turned out that Harry Potter, the rumoured to be twin of the Boy-Who-Lived and the Potter heir would be attending Hogwarts, her mother had instantly gotten her to remember her own responsibility to her own family.

It was unknown which of the two Potters was the older one and therefore, the heir. In such cases as these, the title would be decided by a contest and in the Wizengamot. For which, each of them would need support of the other Noble Houses.

She, as heiress Greengrass, was the representative of her family at Hogwarts and her actions could also be seen as the actions of her family when she passed fifteen. Until then, she would observe and relay to her father who the Greengrass should support. An alliance which of course should result in more advantage for her family.

Her mother had correctly predicted that both boys, instead of being friendly to one another, would very likely be rivals and perhaps even hate each. While she had seen no evidence of hatred, the way they stood opposite each, it was quite clear that they were rivals.

As of now, her money would be on Alex Potter. She was quite pleased to see that Harry looked thinner than Alex, almost like he hadn't had much food to eat but that probably wasn't entirely true. Alex was also broader than his brother.

A fight between the two would most likely result in defeat of her arrogant housemate at the hands of the boy-who-lived, who was broader, if a little rounder, and likely had training from not only his father and grandfather, but also Dumbledore.

Alex found that quite liked being broader and bigger than Harry, makes his brother less of a threat. Not that he could be a threat anyway. But Harry was slightly taller than him, with his forehead only coming up Harry's chin.

Alex summoned all that Potter courage, that his father had told him many stories of – his grandfather had even fought Grindelwald himself – he locked eyes with his brother's, who was clad in emerald and silver trimmed robes, which with gritted teeth, he realised were made of better material than his. Even though, Alex couldn't say what they were made of. But he didn't need to know the name of the material to know that they looked undeniably better and more expensive. That should be him! Not Harry!

He was the heir to one of the only three remaining Noble and Most Ancient House of Black while Harry had been raised like a muggle for the years while he had grown up around magic. Harry didn't even know about magic until two months ago.

And yet, here he was, looking just like one of the pureblood fanatics that plagued Slytherin house – just like a future Death Eater. He was already making his name as one of the smartest students in school, barely a week into term.

Of course, they hadn't started spell-casting officially yet and Alex had no doubt that he would be superior to Harry who hadn't even cast a single spell. He was still angry at him for fooling him into being sorted into Slytherin, even if he couldn't prove it anyone, his father believed him and had asked Alex to play nice and befriend Harry.

He admitted, it would be nice to have a spy in Slytherin house and he had always wanted a brother, only having a girl as a sibling. Oh, why couldn't their parents have had another child after they gave Harry away? All that was needed was to get him away from these junior death eaters and turn him towards the light.

'Harry…'

'No,' came the instant reply from Harry.

Swallowing his nerves and making an effort to look at his brother in the eye, he began again, 'Harry…'

'No.'

'Umm. What?' Alex was thoroughly confused. What did he mean no? That Harry wasn't his name?

He could see Harry's eyes narrow, scrutinising him, before he visibly leaned further into the wall. Alex somehow felt even more nervous than when he began. Harry was looking at him like a cat might look at a particularly amusing fish.

Harry for his part looked at his brother, wondering if the daft boy would get the hint. He sighed, seeing his confused expression, he decided to take pity on him and not continue this dreadful conversation any longer than it needed to be.

'As sad as it is to have a decidedly muggle name,' Harry started, emphasising the word muggle, making Alex's eyes widen and mouth gape open, 'It is Hadrian. Harry, is a nickname, which I allow certain people to use. You… are not one of them.'

For the first time, he felt an inkling of fear towards his brother even if he hadn't done anything. But that was displaced as soon as it came for anger. He was already becoming a fanatic like the rest of the purebloods! Father was right!

Harry, for some reason he couldn't fathom, received an image of a fish in a bowl, and a cat looking at it from outside. What in the hell? Where did fish and cats come from, in his head. He was sure he hadn't been thinking about them.

When Alex was about to reply, the door to the potion's lab burst open and there stood in all sneering visage, Severus Snape. 'As amusing as you two are, you are blocking the way. Get in… now!'

Several students averted their eyes, not wanting to be caught so blatantly staring, and rushed in at the Potion's Masters orders. Harry too followed them, just a little dazed about what happened.

He was vaguely aware of the rush to get the 'good seats' as it were by the Slytherins and didn't even remotely pay attention, rather, taking the very last seat at the back, not even attempting to sit with Greengrass like he would in Charms and Transfiguration, before Tracey inevitably took that spot.

Neither did he sink as low as to put his bag onto the empty seat next to him when saw Alex eyeing it curiously. He was certain Alex wouldn't sit with him, not after the show they just had.

And expectedly, he made his way to the front, just like Draco and Pansy who took the first row almost immediately. He snorted a little, mildly amused at seeing Millicent bodily shove Crabbe and Goyle away from claiming the second row, even if they were somewhat bigger than her. The seat next to her was saved for Morag, who meekly shuffled past the two gorillas, not even lifting her eyes.

Then it was Daphne and Tracey, followed by Blaise and Theodore Nott and then finally, him, sitting alone, as usual. And as usual, he refused to acknowledge the pang of hurt at this forced isolation.

From his place at the front, Snape was mildly amused at the animosity shown by the Potter twins. Not just by their little verbal spat, but by their positions in the seating. It was not at all subtle. He watched Hadrian quite clearly leave the seat next to him open, making it clear to Alex that he wasn't against it and it was only Alex's weakness that forced him not to take it.

Or was it his eagerness to be in the front? Where he quickly to the very front seat, quickly pulling Neville onto it just as Granger was about to take it. She for her part wouldn't be outdone and took the second seat, next to the Irish boy whose name he didn't remember. The boy sent a apologetic look towards the newest Weasley who glared at the back of Granger's head like he wanted it to be burst in flames.

He highly doubted that that intent of the boy would actually do any harm. Granger for her part seemed to be utterly ignorant of it or was blatantly ignoring the boy. Both were quite amusing prospects.

It took a bit of shuffling, switching and swapping but the idiot Gryffindors finally settled into their seats. So very unlike his own house who had most probably decided where they would sit before the class began.

But why would Potter immediately go for the seat in the back, as opposed to the front? There was no ambition in hiding away? Why had the hat put him in Slytherin, even after, according to the brat himself, he had asked to be in Gryffindor.

Severus still didn't know how the brat had managed to fool his brother into being sorted in Slytherin but he would find out today. A subtle probe would be all it took.

He was glad that they split into two separate sides. He vaguely remembers Lily saying something about trialling mixed pairs, but that was a nightmare he would never test out in Potions. He had enough of that during his own school years.

And so, he began his well-rehearsed speech to scare the first years into paying attention to Potions.

'As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't really expect you to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the minds, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.'

He knew that as many of them were hanging on to his words, at least half if not more of them would be useless at brewing. And he had no doubt the two Potters would be among them.

The Granger girl looked like she was hanging of the edge of her seat, eager to prove that she most certainly wasn't a dunderhead. Longbottom, whom many of his Slytherins refer to as fat-bottom looked like he was going to whimper at any moment.

Then there was Potter and Draco at the front, both ignoring him. What nerve! He would be sure to stamp it out of them. While Draco was whispering something to Parkinson, Potter had chosen to pay attention to anything else in the classroom but him. He grits his teeth in frustration. What had he done to be cursed with Potter's spawn?

Speaking of Potter, what was the other one doing? As soon as he saw him, he wanted to bang his head on the wall behind him. The other one wasn't paying attention to his carefully crafted speech either. But a second look made him pause enough not to berate him on the spot.

The boy was taking notes?

Interesting. Time for a little impromptu quiz.

'Potter!' he yelled, making the entire class jump at the sudden octave change in his voice. He smirked at that, seeing two pairs of eyes staring at him unwaveringly. One, same as blasted James Potter and hazel, the other, emerald.

Snape bit his lips in irritation, having momentarily forgotten that he had two Potters in his class now and that he would have to be more specific.

'Gryffindor Potter,' he specified, spitting out the first word but softening his tone, 'our… newest … celebrity.' He smirked as he got a glare in response. This was going to be easy. 'Tell me, Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel into an infusion of wormwood?'

The boy narrowed his eyes in response as he bit his cheek. Granger's hand shot up in the air as she as she could get it. Snape ignored her for now. 'I don't know sir,' it was obvious that it was difficult for the boy to call him 'sir'.

'How very disappointing,' Snape said truthfully. He had thought Lily would have taught him something so basic. 'Let's try another shall we. Tell me, where would you look if I asked you to find a bezoar?'

Again, Granger's hand shot into the air, as far as she could get it. Yet again, she was ignored for his attention was solely on Potter, who was glaring by now, 'I don't know, sir,' he grit his teeth, turning to scowl at Draco and Pansy who sniggered quite openly.

'Hmm. Third time's the charm I suppose, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?', he asked again. The boy might actually know this considering what Lupin was.

'I don't know, sir,' he replied again, glaring at the teacher.

Snape sneered, 'Pity… clearly… fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?'

'Clearly, Hermione knows… Seems a pity not to ask her!' Alex spat, growing more annoyed by the second.

Harry wondered how stupid the boy could possibly be. Clearly he either missed the murderous look on Snape's face.

'Silence!' the Professor said to the snickering Gryffindors. 'Ten points for your cheek Potter! Let me guess, you thought you didn't need to open a book before coming to class, expecting to waltz through on your name without any effort…. Just like your father, no doubt, strutting about the place…'

Alex jumped up to his feet in anger, almost snarling like a mutt, 'My father didn't strut!'

'Ten points from Gryffindor for your misbehaviour!', Snape sneered.

Now Harry understood why Draco was boasting yesterday about how much Snape hated James Potter while he was practising wand movement for the knockback jinx. Harry had ignored all the boy's taunts, clearly meant to put him on edge for the lesson beforehand. Not a subtle tactic at all.

'What?!' Weasley too jumped up to his friend's defence, 'That's not fair!'

'Another ten points!' Snape turned his full glare onto them, obsidian eyes boring into their skulls as they're bravery wilted, 'now sit down!'

Harry thought it was quite fair. The two clearly had no manners to speak of, and no subtlety whatsoever. Which made him wonder the hat even placed Alexander in Slytherin to begin with.

Only someone who had read more than half the book would know all the answers to those questions. With the first question being answered in the very first page of the first chapter. Clearly neither Potter nor Weasley had even deigned to open the book.

On the other hand, Alex had insulted Slytherin in front of the school at the feast and only now was Snape enacting his vengeance. Aside from taking revenge from students, Harry felt his respect for Snape grow, despite the fact that the man had effectively isolated him in his house with a few well- placed words and looks. That in itself was worthy of respect, to be honest.

Harry watched amusedly as the two boys sat down. But he couldn't see Alex glaring at Snape but Weasley's red ears were quite obvious.

Snape waited until he was there would be no more jumping outbursts from either of the idiots, when he turned his attention to the other Potter, intending to knock him down a peg or two as well. He had expected the boy to look apprehensive, but instead he was looking at the scene quite amusedly.

What a pity. And here he thought the boy might be able to conceal his emotions. But it seems that was not possible from a Potter, who wear their hearts on their sleeves.

'Well, well,' Snape smirked once more, looking at Slytherin Potter, bringing the class' attention to the boy at the back. 'It seems what we have here is a rare opportunity to study the 'nature vs nurture' theory.'

He saw the class, Gryffindors and Slytherins perhaps for the first time united in the hope that they would get to see the boy make a fool of himself. Either way, it wouldn't do harm.

He was sure Draco or Greengrass would be able to answer his questions and get ahead in points.

Harry meanwhile had no intention to make a fool of himself and had realised the moment Snape started asking Alexander questions, that he would be next. Understandably, the Professor was curious. Nature vs nurture as he put it?

'What do I mean by that Granger?' Snape asked, finally giving the girl something to answer to as she had desperately wanted. Only this time, she looked hesitant to do so but complied nonetheless. That betrayed an eagerness to please, authority figures at least, just like Harry had suspected, from how she talked about Dumbledore in the train.

'It means, has Hadrian's different upbringing had an effect contrasting Alex' studying habits,' Granger replied in the most diplomatic way possible.

Harry smirked, the girl might actually have done well in Slytherin, if she wasn't a muggleborn that is.

Snape smirked, 'Indeed. Has young Hadrian's upbringing made him any better than his dunderhead or were they both simply born that way?'

Granger looked down, perhaps in embarrassment, as Snape stated what she had avoided to say.

'Five points… to Gryffindor.'

Granger looked up in surprise but Snape's attention wasn't on her but on Hadrian, waiting until the snickers died down.

'Tell me, Slytherin Potter, can you answer any of the questions your brother was too stupid not to read up on?'

Harry wondered, if the Professor was asking him a trick question and had fully expected, the snickers that resulted when he answered, 'Nothing, for the first one, sir.'

Harry saw as Draco turned and gave a smug grin, laughing at his expense, along with Pansy. Tracey shook her head ever so slightly, perhaps disappointed in his answers. He couldn't see but was fully aware that Daphne would have a smirk on her face.

Snape resisted the urge to grimace. He had hoped the boy would be better than his useless brother, but it seems that the Potter genes made dunderheads, no matter what the upbringing. 'What a shame…', he said, just as Alex and Weasley looked back eagerly at Slytherin Potter.

Harry had no intention of seeming as idiotic as Alexander, and elaborated, 'Simply adding the two would not create the Draught of Living Death which I presume was what you were looking for. For that, you would also need valerian root, sloth brain and sopophorous beans.'

Snape eyes widened for a second. The boy had no hesitance in his answer, he was calm and precise. Granted, Snape hadn't expected the boy to know other ingredients of the potion.

Not bad. For a Potter anyway.

'Malfoy. Where would find a bezoar?' he asked, not taking his eyes off Potter.

'Stomach of a goat, sir,' his godson answered, grinning smugly, though it was more subdued having heard Potter's answer to the previous question.

Potter looked somewhat relieved. Thinking that he could only ask the same questions. Quite foolish for him to think that memorising what was written in a book made him smart. Stupid boy.

'Potter!' Snape sneered. 'Slytherin Potter. What are phoenix tears used for?'

He smirked, seeing the confused look of the whole class, Potter and Granger included. Of course, why would he know something this advanced.

Harry was stumped. Quite literally. No matter what how much he racked his brain, he couldn't reading up on any potions that would use such a rare ingredient like phoenix tears, magical creatures which were quite rare to begin with.

Draco looked at him in glee, no doubt ecstatic that both Potters were humiliated today by his favourite Professor. 'I don't…', he was about to complete his sentence when he saw Alex's sneer.

Instantly, he remembered that Dumbledore – who people say is training Alexander – owned a phoenix, Fawkes if he remembered correctly.

What did Newt Scamander say about phoenixes in his book? He swore he read about it somewhere. And like a bulb switched on, he received his answer.

'Phoenix tears have immense healing powers, so I presume they can be used an antidote to poisons. Though, it would be quite a waste to use such a rare ingredient in antidotes,' Harry was sure it was the right answer, as not only did Snape's eyes widen – albeit momentarily – but Granger whipped her head around to look at him, eyes also wide. Was it so shocking that he could possibly know something? That was highly insulting.

Draco sniggered, obviously expecting it to be a wrong answer but was rendered speechless, mouth gaping like a fish, rather like Alexander, when Snape replied, 'Correct. 20 points to Slytherin for being prepared for class, Potter, Malfoy.'

And with that, the theoretical portion the class ended and it was time to see what they could do. 'Take out your potion supplies and cauldrons, you will be working in pairs. Today, you will brew the boil cure potion. Instructions are on the board. Begin.'

And so, they began, eager to brew their first ever potions. Snape was well aware that most purebloods get prior tuition in subjects such as Charms and Potions before coming to Hogwarts, but actually brewing potions is too risky for children under eleven.

He had only agreed to tutor Draco in brewing Potions because of Lucius and Narcissa's insistence. The boy's talent also had something to do with it.

But an hour and half into the class, he was ready to curse half of the dunderheads. As much as it pained to admit, Slytherins were included in his assessment of dunderheads.

Nonetheless, he was proud to see that all his Slytherins, were standing a sufficient distance away from their desk and cauldrons, their bags under the table and that all of them had the forethought to buy extra ingredients than what comes with the basic brewing kit.

He had finished inspecting the Gryffindor table, not even making an effort to conceal the grimace at the sludge Potter and Longbottom had brewed. Granger and Finnegan's potion looked to be on the right track but of course, there was still potential for it to wrong, so he made no comment.

The rest of the Gryffindors were either miserable at Potions or couldn't read properly. He didn't know which option would be better at this point. However, Patil and Brown's potion looked like it was going to be somewhat acceptable by the end.

Just as he finished reviewing the Slytherin table, and was about to comment on the brilliant way Draco had prepared his horned slugs and was happy to see that it was the exact shade of grey it should have been at this point. That was understandable, considering Draco was holding his tongue between his teeth as he prepared the slugs, barely paying attention to Parkinson as she chatted away.

Before he could bring the class' attention to Draco's prepared slugs, a hissing sound and a horrible rotting spell made itself known. Snape whirled around his gaze sought out the culprit immediately.

Longbottom. Of course!

'Longbottom,' he snarled as he watched the potion erupt, drenching the boy, as he edged away from Snape, covering him in angry, red boils erupting all over him. 'Idiot boy!' he vanished the spreading, steaming goo with a flick of his wand. 'I suppose you added the porcupine quills without taking the cauldron off the heat!'

He didn't wait for his answer as he already what had happened and had no sympathy for the whimpering boy who nearly harmed the rest of the class with his stupidity. 'Finnegan! Take Longbottom to the hospital wing!', he barked, ignoring the moans from Longbottom.

Of course, his grandmother would be receiving a letter from him soon enough. With that decided, he turned to the boy's partner. Potter! Why did he have to be cursed with such idiots? 'Potter!'

'What?!' Potter snarled.

'Don't take that tone with me, you impudent brat!' Snape growled as he closed in one Potter. 'Why didn't you assist your partner. Let me guess, you thought you'd make yourself look good while he failed. Five points from Gryffindor! And another five for your cheek!'

The boy had to be physically held back by rising up by Weasley. Snape's smirk grew even more as Potter grew more furious by the second, as did Weasley given that he was getting as red as his hair.

Ten minutes later, he had finished marking everyone's potion and he had to admit, he was a little disappointed in Slytherin Potter's performance. While he had by no means expected an outstanding from anyone but Draco – whom he hadn't given one to anyway – but Potter's was disappointedly an acceptable. He had expected more.

It figures his skill is only learning theoretical knowledge and not putting it into practice. Severus would have to subtly enquire about him skills from the other teachers in a month or so when they start practising magic in their classes.

He hated to admit, but right now it seemed that Gryffindor Potter, much to his dismay would outclass his Slytherin brother in magic. Understandable of course. While he wasn't trained by Dumbledore like most of the foolish public believed, he was however taught magical theory ever since he was eight.

During the questions he asked Potter, he had a brief look into the boy's mind, nothing further than just beyond the surface thoughts. And while he had seen an image of Lily Potter teaching the brat Potions at the dining room table, the only thoughts of the boy were how quickly he could get away to play quidditch. It seemed that the boy hadn't retained a shred of what she had apparently wasted her time teaching him. He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. But it remained to be seen how good he was at magic.

Harry had waited until every single person was asleep, when it was around 2 in the morning when he snuck out of bed and made it to the common room. Learning privacy charms were on his list of immediate spells to learn but right now, he would have to do without it.

Facing the ornate carving on the hearth and what looked like a shape of a viper, and feeling slightly stupid doing this to a wall, he summoned his breath, after another look around to make sure he was alone, he said, 'Hello.' The stone viper blinked once, then twice, 'Speaker', it replied. Harry laughed. _

Eventually, September passed with Harry getting used to school and still not being allowed to do magic in Charms and Transfiguration. The latter was more complicated, in the sense that it was more exact, almost scientific in a way, with complicated formulae they needed to learn governing the transformation of objects.

It was with great pride that McGonagall told them that Godric Gryffindor was a master at Transfiguration, and many of these laws governing transformation magic were discovered by him.

His question on what Salazar Slytherin speciliased in went unanswered by the Professor but not without getting a plethora of glares from the Gryffindors and even some Hufflepuffs once word had gotten out that he had asked such a question. The Ravenclaws though, mostly only looked at him with curious eyes.

Harry didn't understand what was so bad about knowing about the founder of your own house. Why must the school vilify him for seeking knowledge about his own house's founder. But he had quickly realised, even without anyone in the house telling him, that being a Slytherin, the rest of the school treated them like junior death eaters with the Slytherin crest being akin to the dark mark. A few hateful comments from Weasley had also helped to realise the fact.

His mother had thankfully only tried to talk to him after class twice, and both times he made excuses to get out of it. But Harry felt his luck wouldn't hold out too long. His isolation had gotten even worse. Word had gotten out, as expected, that he had tried to fool the Boy-Who-Lived into being sorted in Slytherin.

It was perhaps the only thing on which the school was united, where the other three houses agreed with Slytherin. All of them were quite mad at how he had succeeded. Apparently, according to the other three houses, from the whispers behind his back, it was a mark of a dark wizard that he had succeeded in fooling the hat.

Harry had long since given up expecting anything logical from them. His house though, were mad that he had tried to sully their noble reputation, which in his opinion, wasn't that stellar anyway.

But in his opinion, he had done quite well with the getting-Alexander-in-Slytherin scheme. Given that it was his first plot and whatnot, he thought he should be applauded, not scorned. But since when had anyone listened to him.

Perhaps, the only thing that had gone right since he had come to Hogwarts was that he had succeeded in not making himself look like a blood traitor

Defence was much the same, with Quirrell stuttering his way through copious amounts of stories – made up in his opinion – where he battled various dark creatures.

Apparently, the purple turban was a gift from an African Prince after he saved his life from a vicious Zombie. Do these even exist in the magical world? Sounds something like Newt Scamander would know.

Harry resolved to write to the man, and ask about these dark creatures. He knew that Quirrell was either lying or these creatures known as dark couldn't all be dark. For example, a chimaera in Greece sounded quite cool, instead of brimming with dark magic as the man told them. The class though, hung onto every one of his stuttered word, as though they were Gospel.

The only good thing to come from the entirely theoretical class was the list of useful spells that the stuttering Professor thought might be useful for them should they encounter any of the creatures.

However, the first of October and the first Monday brought another apprehensive event in Harry's life. Flying lesson. The notice that had gone up in the common room the week before had forewarned them all that the first lesson was mandatory, although subsequent lessons, held weekly would not be.

This lesson, this morning after breakfast – which Harry thought was a bit risky lest they wanted to puke anything they had eaten – was to be with Gryffindors. According to Snape's notice and warning, the lesson would be with Gryffindors. Of course, he expected a full turnout, no late comers or dropouts; them to behave in a manner acceptable to Madam Hooch and not to be caught in situation that would displease Snape.

That was another underhanded, and unstated – at least to him – point about Slytherin that he had figured out on his own. Their head of house seemed to be almost accepting or rather, resigned, to their schemes and plots, as long as they don't get caught and lose Slytherin points or reputation. What little it had left, anyway.

He was sure that his fellow housemates would despise him even more if he even uttered the truth that even Hufflepuff had a better reputation than them. As sad as that was, it was the undeniable truth.

And so, it was a resigned Harry Potter that trudged along with his fellow first year Slytherins, after an early breakfast, or rather, earlier than the Gryffindors to the quidditch pitch. They had been summoned by Marcus Flint.

Harry swallowed his nerves and refused to show his anticipation or anxiety at the prospect of flying. Somehow, brooms didn't look the safest transportation choice anymore. But it was an aspect of magical world, and he would conquer his irrational fear, no matter what.

Marcus quickly gave them a laydown of the basic flying theory, posture and holding technique, ignoring the boasting of Draco and made himself scarce before the Gryffindors showed up.

Harry, like almost everyone with ears in Slytherins, had by now, memorised Draco's story of almost colliding with a muggle helicopter as he flew near his mansion and his constant bragging about flying skills.

He wasn't the only, Harry noticed. Tracey was also an avid flying fan. Even Daphne, was vocal about it, but only to Tracey and occasionally Blaise. She still resisted any and all of Harry's attempts to have any sort of civil conversation with her.

'Why are you even here, Potter?' Draco sneered, almost disgustingly like Alexander, 'I can't imagine you even know how to fly, halfblood, given your upbringing?'

Pansy and the rest of his gang snickered along with Draco's joke, or rather, attempt at insulting him.

That, if anything, only spurred Harry to do better than any of the rest. He smiled, 'You're quite right, Draco. I have never flown before.' He ignored the gleeful look on his housemates' faces as they realised a potential point to berate him on. 'But I can't imagine it'll be too hard.'

'You better hope you don't make a fool of yourself in front of the Gryffindors,' Draco replied, darkly. 'I won't let you bring more shame to our house, more than you being here already does!'

Harry noticed, out of the corner of his eyes that Morag paled even more as Draco said this, she was already too white, looking at the broom on the ground near her feet. His eyes, by pure coincidence met the light blue ones Daphne Greengrass, and any hope he had of her coming to his defence evaporated when she turned up her nose at him.

He smirked internally, 'I don't belong in Slytherin, you mean?', he asked confusedly.

'Of course, you don't!'

Harry now smirked only and stepped forward, closer to Draco, noting how Crabbe and Goyle inched forward from behind the boy, 'Well, you see Draco, I've done some thinking. And I have to say, I'm quite content with being in Slytherin.'

Draco, and others, adopted matching momentary confused looks. He elaborated, purely for the joy of seeing him flustered. 'You see, I did some research. As it turns out, each of the founders imbued a part of themselves when they enchanted the enchanted the hat. So, it's not just a random object who sorts children based on preconceived notions. Which also means, that the part of it belonging to the noble Salazar Slytherin was the one who picked me for this house. I don't know about you Draco, but I know I'm not knowledgeable enough to say Salazar Slytherin was wrong. And you might say that I should have taken up the headmaster's offer to join Gryffindor, but then I wouldn't get to see Daffodil's lovely face every morning in the common room or escort her charming self to the Great Hall. And why would I say no that?'

He smirked quite openly as Daphne glared him like she wanted to melt him right there and then, Tracey sniggered behind her hand, and Draco sputtered incoherently, trying to come up with an answer but only managed, 'No… I don't…'

'No what, Draco? No, that you think our esteemed founder is wrong? Or that you think Daffodil's doesn't have a cute face,' he wiggled his eyebrows at the fiercely glaring Daphne, ignoring the reddening Draco.

'Leave me out of your contest, Potter! And don't… call… me…. Daffodil!' she spat icily, Harry's smiling face only serving to annoy her even more. The nerve of the boy.

But before Draco could answer, there was a voice from behind them, 'Trouble in the snakepit, eh, Potter!'

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to watch Potter and Weasley leading the group of Gryffindors nearer to them, walking as if they had paid for the quidditch pitch themselves.

Draco narrowed his eyes, 'Mind your own business, Weasel. Unless, you're trying to beg for more change? I wouldn't be surprised to be honest.'

'What?!' Weasley growled in change. 'Why you, wannabe death eater! I'll show you…', he was rolling up his sleeves, his ears reddening.

'Malfoy!' Alexander spat, plunging his hand into his robes.

Seeing that Alex was about to step into the argument, Harry said, 'You're quite wrong Weasley. Draco and I were merely agreeing on our founder's noble blood, and Daffodil's beauty!'

Daphne's snapped her head towards Harry who was looking at Draco, 'Isn't that right, Draco?'

Draco, to his credit, merely looked confused for only a second, before looking from Harry to Daphne and smirked, 'Of course, Harry.'

Harry was vaguely impressed how Draco had managed to piss off both Alex and Weasley again in less than two sentences.

'Harry! He gets to call you, Harry?!' Alexander growled, looking scandalised, from him to Draco.

Ahh. The petulant boy was jealous! How precious.

'Of course, I do, Potter!' Draco spat his name. 'Not that you would know what it's like to have proper wizarding contacts,' he said with the word proper, sneering at Weasley and his hand-me-down cloak no less.

As Draco and Alex got ready to argue, Harry ignored both of them and stepped forward to Weasley, much to his apprehension as the boy immediately tensed up, taking out his wand.

Harry only took out enough coins, 'Here, Weasley,' he handed him seven galleons, as he looked at the gold with mouth wide open, eyes wide looking from Harry to his hand.

'Wh…what?' he said eloquently. Harry rolled his eyes.

Before Harry could answer, Draco's laughter made itself known, 'It's money for your wand Weasel!'

It wasn't Harry's intention to ridicule him with it, but considering all the rumours the boy was spreading about him, he changed his mind. 'You won the bet. Now perhaps, you'll be able to turn your rat yellow.'

The Slytherins roared with laughter even more much to Potter's and his friends' anger, but immediately sobered when they watched Hooch stride up, her hard, yellow eyes much like a hawk's.

'Line up, next to your brooms, all of you,' she barked, whirling around as she pointed to the ground.

Draco was made to stand near Hooch at the front of the Slytherin row, and Harry ended up on the other end of it. And for the first time, ignoring him altogether in favour of Draco, Alexander made a beeline to stand opposite to the blonde boy, dragging Weasley with him, and giving Draco a dulled glare. He only received a sneer in response.

Children! Harry shook his head amusedly.

He was standing next to Morag and opposite an incredibly nervous looking fatbottom. As Hooch gave them all instructions and fixed everyone's grip one by one, Harry heard fatbottom tell Granger that his grandmother had forbidden him going near brooms altogether.

And given his usual clumsiness and forgetfulness at nearly everything, Harry couldn't help but feel that it was an incredibly wise decision on his grandmother's part.

'Stick you right hand over the broom, and say, up,' Hooch told them.

Everyone did as she instructed and Harry was thoroughly perplexed, as upon his command, the broom immediately flew into the air and into his awaiting palm. He smirked at the success, however small. It was the first piece of magic he had done which hadn't required hours of practise with his wand, trying to get it to work for him properly.

Alexander's broom also shot into his awaiting hand and the boy took the opportunity to shoot a smug grin towards Draco, who returned with his own, dulling Alexander's pleasure a little.

Much to his and Draco's amusement, Alexander who had been bragging about how he had been flying all his life, was just informed by Madam Hooch that his grip was wrong, making Draco snort in laughter. Harry was slightly bemused about how easy it was for them to rile each other up.

He wondered if he could look as stupid as Alexander or if he could get his face to be that red. Probably not a best idea to try. The Slytherins were all commended on their grips, with a slight glint in her eyes. Perhaps she was aware of Flint's impromptu lesson.

Hooch then proceeded to show the correct way to grip the broom, to more than a few Gryffindors and how to correctly sit on them.

Much like Morag beside him, Granger and Longbottom's brooms as well rolled on the ground pathetically as they tried to get them to rise. But seeing as Morag was being helped by Millicent, he saw no reason to offer his own unsolicited advice.

Granger was getting increasingly annoyed at her failed attempts, which he presumed would be a first, and Longbottom was almost pleading with a very stubborn broom. At the end, both gave up and picked them up as everyone mounted their brooms.

'Now, on my whistle, I want each of you to kick out from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, hover for a moment and then lean forwards slightly and touch back down,' were her simple instructions.

Without giving them a chance to repeat the instructions in their heads, she blew her whistle immediately. One by one, she assessed their forms. Draco's was excellent as she told him, and made him even more smug when said Alex's was decent. It certainly made Harry happier as well, as loathed as he was to share something in common with Draco.

Madam Hooch was assessing each Gryffindor and then the Slytherin opposite them. When it was Longbottom's turn, the great, lump clearly hadn't listened to a word she said, and pushed off harder than they were told to.

As a result, his broom instead of hovering, shot up straight into the air, as Longbottom screamed himself white. Harry heard Morag gasped, horrified as Longbottom broom crashed headfirst into the castle's wall, throwing him off.

A sickening crunch and a thud later, Longbottom, in a puddle of black cloak, was lying crying on the ground. Many of them moved closer the boy, some out of curiosity and some out of concern for their housemate. Harry wasn't among them. Instead, he couldn't help but notice the deathly pale Morag had stepped away from her own broom, as if it were poison, and closer to him.

As others' attentions were fixed on the moaning lump on the ground, Harry covertly slipped his hand into Morag's and gave a slight squeeze. She seemed surprised for a second.

'Are you alright, Ms. McDougal?' Harry whispered, turning to her slightly.

She mumbled something which was perhaps a word but it only came out as a squeak. Instead, she nodded vigorously, eyeing the broom like it had insulted her.

'Good,' Harry said as she gave a slight squeeze in return and removed her hand. Harry wasn't a fan of physical contact, but had seen Aunt Petunia do something similar to Dudders and was glad that some of Morag's colour had returned to her cheeks.

He shifted his attention back to Madam Hooch who was levitating Longbottom, 'I don't want a single broom in the air. Or the one riding it will be out of Hogwarts before he can say quidditch!'

Quite presumptuous of her to think that it would be a boy. But then again, he had to agree that boy's were more reckless.

That was when Draco saw something on the ground and picked it up. 'Oh look, it's Longbottom's remembral.'

Draco looked like Christmas had come early as he was surrounded by a few Slytherins and Gryffindors, Harry somehow ended up near to them, given that the remembral had fallen where Longbottom was standing. 'Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he would have remembered to fall on his arse.'

Many of the Slytherins chuckled, and Harry couldn't help but notice the smile on Daphne's face as she subtly placed herself close to Draco. What in the world was that about?

In his opinion, Longbottom might be bit pudgy, but he certainly wasn't as fat as his whale of a cousin. And being skinny and scrawny himself, he didn't like the idea of body shaming anyone.

'Shut it, Parkinson!' Parvati's voiced rang through the group, making Harry curious as to what the girls were arguing about.

Pansy, never one to back down, sneered, 'Aww. Patil. I didn't know you liked fat, little, cry-babies!' making Parvati blush and glare at the pug-faced girl.

He had just decided to ask for Longbottom's remembral, the Slytherin way, that is promising a favour in return, when Alexander, the subtle dunderhead that he was, stepped up and demanded, 'Give it here, Malfoy!' he stuck out his own pudgy hand.

'No. I think I will leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find,' Draco bounced the ball in his hands once, climbed onto his broom and smoothly took out, flying around the group once and then increasing the height. 'How about on the roof?'

What an idiot. Of all the stupid things to do. But then again, he wasn't going to be one costing them points so he couldn't care less.

Alexander, accepting the challenge with a grunt was just about to get on his broom when Granger stopped him, putting a hand on his broom. 'No Alex, you can't!' she said in her classic, bossy tone. 'You heard what Madam Hooch said. You'll cost us points and get expelled!'

Draco however, not one to stay out of the fun, swooped low enough to just be out Alexander's reach, taunted him some more and then to Harry's frustration, spotted him. He could swear the gleam in Malfoy's multiplied as he saw an opportunity to belittle both Potters in one go. 'What do you, Harry? Want to have a little game of catch?'

Crap. Now what to do. The Slytherins would surely expect him to side with Draco. Parvati looked to him with an apprehensive look and said, 'Harry! You can't let him do that!'

Before Harry could answer, Alexander had loosened Granger's grip and had swooped into the air.

All those on the ground then looked towards him. This was a test of house loyalty above all. But Harry refused to be a bully. He had been bullied his entire life. But how to refuse without looking like he was chickening out.

On top of that, Parvati was still looking at him hopefully. Perhaps she genuinely liked the fat lump. What a pain.

'Tell you what Draco, Alexander,' he called out, bringing both of the boys' attention to himself. 'We'll play a game of catch. If Alexander can get it from us, the remembral is his. A fine way to test the heir Malfoy against the Potters, isn't it? Or Slytherin vs Gryffindor,' Harry said, internally cursing himself at acting so Gryffindorish. They both accepted. Crap.

Not to mention, he didn't even know how to fly. Parvati looked somewhat disappointed in him. He gripped broom tighter and looked around if there was any sign of a teacher, 'Harry no! You don't even know how to fly!'

Pansy sneered, 'Mind your business, know-it-all!'

Harry couldn't agree more and said, 'I'll be fine, Ms. Granger,' as he mounted his broom and willed it to shoot into the sky.

It was a weird sensation but it took a few seconds to get himself used to such buoyancy in the air as he stabled himself.

The key to all magic was intent. And this was magic with a broom instead of a wand. He just had to assert his will over the broom and not seem like he didn't know what he was doing. When in doubt, fake it.

And so, Harry did. Draco lugged the small, ball at Harry who immediately shot forwards, aware of Alexander shooting towards him from the other side. Before Alexander could get near however, Harry's reflexes from years of dodging Uncle Vernon's fists, and Dudley's punches and kicks came into play and threw out his hand, clasping the ball, just as Alexander was to ram into him.

On instinct, Harry turned left, and barrel rolled, making Alexander pass over him, as Harry threw the remembral to Draco.

The blonde boy hadn't needed to move significantly before he could the remembral and shot right, to make Alexander chase him. Harry meanwhile, turned his broom left and sped to the left of Draco. As a result, they were almost level to each with Alexander a little further behind, between them.

Assuming the ball will stay with Draco, Alexander chased him. At the last second, Draco halted and passed the ball to Harry who caught it without even paying much attention to where it came from. They passed it between each other a few times, always a second or two before Alex made a grab for it.

After a few passes, Harry had it in his position, and was heading towards the castle's wall. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Draco descending. So, it was time to end the game. Alexander was none the wiser and was just behind him as Harry did his best not to make it obvious what he was doing.

He took out of his wand in his right hand, keeping it out of his line of sight, he clutched the clutched the broom and the ball with his left This was a huge gambit. Making an obvious throwing action, he lugged as the remembral as hard as he could, 'Go fetch!', he yelled like he was talking to a dog, vaguely aware of the gasps from the people on the ground.

Not wanting to see if Alexander caught it or not, Harry shot towards the ground and landed just in time among the crowd, throwing the broom away from him and standing as if he hadn't just flown.

'That was incredibly foolish of you Evans!' Daphne threw him an icy look. 'You're going to cost Slytherins our hard-earned points!'

Pansy and Draco nodded in agreement, but Draco looked torn between being annoyed or glad at what he had done.

'Perhaps,' Harry replied, looking towards the boy still in the air.

Alexander closed in on the ball shooting towards the castle wall, imminent to crash. Alexander gave a triumphant yell as his hands closed around the ball, seemingly only avoiding crashing into the wall by the inch of his teeth and the crowd cheered.

'Potter!' came the yell from Snape who had a maniacal gleam in his eyes as if he was just given thanksgiving gifts.

'Come down this instant!' came the equally enraged scream from Madam Hooch, who came up from behind Snape.

Alexander visibly paled, as he looked onto the enraged teachers, landing near them.

'What… were… you… doing?!' yelled Madam Hooch. 'Did I or did I not tell you not fly! You could have broken your neck pulling such a stunt on a school broom!'

'But… But…' he sputtered cowering a little from the combined glares of both teachers.

'Explain yourself!' it seemed Hooch was livid. Her nostrils were flaring.

The Gryffindors immediately strode forward to help their golden boy just as the Slytherins looked on in amusement, including Harry.

Parvati was passing by, while throwing Harry a disappointed look but not before Harry subtly stopped her, putting his hand in hers. She coloured for a second before her eyes widened. Harry only responded by putting a finger to his mouth in a silencing motion.

Gryffindor she may be but it seemed she knew how to be subtle as she only nodded.

'But Madam Hooch! I was only getting back Neville's remembral that Draco had taken. He and Harry refused give it even when we demanded it, began playing with it. I only caught it when Harry threw it!' Alexander explained exasperatedly. Many Gryffindors nodded. 'Look!'

Alexander forwarded his closed fist and opened it to reveal it to the teachers. That was when he and the Gryffindors gasped in horror. There was nothing in his hand. 'I swear it was right here!'

Harry noticed that not only the Gryffindors but also the Slytherins looked confused as to the turn of events.

Both teachers looked unconvinced. 'Lying to get others into trouble for your misdeeds, Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor!' Snape smirked.

'Indeed. And ten more points for not listening to a teacher's orders!' Madam Hooch said, further enraging the Gryffindors.

'What?! That's bloody unfair!' Weasley yelled, 'They must have it!' he turned, pointing at Harry and Draco.

'Language, Mr. Weasley! Five points for your lack of manners!' Snape sneered, thoroughly enjoying this.

'Professor. Harry didn't have it. It's here,' Parvati stepped forward, presenting the small, glass ball to him, much to the shock of her housemates, and those of Slytherin.

Draco glared at him, presumably because he hadn't given it back to him. Harry studiously avoided his glare, looking at the increasingly red faces of both Alexander and Weasley as Madam Hooch took even more points from Gryffindor for lying to them.

'But… But… He threw it against the wall and I caught it!' Alexander yelled petulantly, now glaring at Parvati.

'More baseless accusations, Potter!' Snape sneered. 'If Hadrian had done it and you had caught it, why didn't you have it?'

Alexander sputtered, unable to comprehend what had happened, looking from the remembral in Snape's hand to Harry.

'Enough of this, Potter!' Madam Hooch had had enough. 'Detention for two weeks! Class is over!'

Draco was who previously glaring at him seemed to forget all about it and looked absolutely ecstatic at the turn of events. He clearly expected having been caught with the Remembral and had probably come up with some excuse but clearly it wasn't necessary. He threw Harry a smirk that seemed suspiciously like acceptance, even as Snape told Harry to follow him.

Daphne meanwhile, was clearly very stumped. She had secretly quite looked forward to yet another evidence that would prove to her parents that she was right. That they should choose Alexander over Hadrian when the time came. Not to mention, by the way Hadrian had staggered a little when he hovered earlier, made it clear that he was actually telling the truth and he hadn't ridden a broom before.

She was quite looking forward to Hadrian making a fool of himself in front of half of the school's first years. That could only make Alexander more influential, which was ultimately better for her family if they allied with the heir. Of course, Alexander, was only one part of their plans. Draco was another. Albeit, he was a part of Daphne's own plans.

Not that she would have showed it on her face but she was confused. What had exactly happened? Everyone clearly saw Hadrian throw the ball towards the wall, as Draco had landed on the ground, making Alexander chase it.

The next they knew was that Hadrian land on the ground and everyone watched Alexander catch the ball only to be caught red-handed by not one but two teachers and proceeded to lose Gryffindor forty points in one go, putting Slytherin and Ravenclaw in tie.

How had Patil even got her hands on the ball? She hadn't even gone up into the air. Hadrian! She glared at his back as the boy followed their head of house towards the second floor. He had somehow fooled her again! How in the world did he do that? She had her eyes glued to the boys. And he had used Patil to do it! Impudent, disloyal brat! Scheming with Gryffindors.

It was almost a shame that he hadn't realised what she had done and not Draco like he suspected. Or so he had told Tracey. It would be worth it to tell him just to see his disloyal face in realisation and confusion.

Harry meanwhile had incredibly satisfied look. Not only had he managed to salvage any potential friendship with Parvati, he had made Alexander and Weasel look like fools and cost Gryffindors points, and all the while stay out of the glare of Slytherins.

Plausible deniability was a wonderful thing he found. That and the doubling charm that he had finally successfully managed for the first time after about two months of trying.

He almost burst out laughing as he remembered Alexander's face when the ball, he was clutching vanished into nothing as Harry finited the spell. If anybody knew what he had done, he would bet money with them at how long it would take Alexander to figure it out. Somehow, he didn't think he would.

Harry had researched the charm when he had wanted to copy certain pages of library books having to do it my hand like a muggle or carry the books around. Even then, it hadn't worked as many times as he tried. A thought came to him, it hadn't taken much effort to do it on the remembral but the books were nearly impossible. Maybe the books were spelled against copying? It would make sense.

He almost slapped his head for his stupidity. Of course, they were. Why didn't he do it on something else. Well, you live and learn, he supposed.

He was too busy coming up with an excuse and how to deny any involvement in the matter like Alexander had rightly claimed, that he didn't see Snape stopping by Flitwick's classroom and asking for Flint.

Of course, he had thoroughly expected to be berated for foolish, Gryffindorish behaviour out in public. What he wasn't expecting was what Snape said to him, making both him and Flint's mouths gape like fish.

'Of course, it goes without saying it would have to remain a secret,' was the only thing their head of house told them as he strode away, making him blink in confusion and then that confusion turned to anger as he realised what Snape was probably plotting.

They had the next period free, which Harry then spent reading up on the 'Curses and Counter-curses' book he had bought. Granted, in any of his own training sessions, he had yet managed to cast anything stronger than a knockback jinx on a chair, but making notes on the details of the spell and its theory was just as important, if not more.

After all, he needed to learn how a spell worked fundamentally rather than just half-assed executing it. After the one-hour free period, Harry braced himself for yet another lesson with his mother. Charms was going as well as it could, with it being purely theoretical and Harry was starting to get bored.

As always, he sat with Parvati, ignoring the death glares from Alexander and Weasel, and curiously, Daphne.

'Nicely done, Harry,' Tracey whispered to Harry, offering him a smile as she passed him.

Harry's eyes brightened, 'Thanks, Tracey,' he replied. As much as would deny it, it felt good at least someone telling him he had done good. Of course, Tracey was pulled away by a Daphne who scowled at her but that was nothing new or unexpected.

'Hello to you too, Daffodil,' he called out from behind them, grinning as she turned to glare at him.

'Evans,' she spat icily, turning up her nose at him, making him smirk even more.

Harry, now pleased with himself, turned to sit with Parvati on their normal place, and didn't see the look of shock on his mother's face as she heard what Daphne called him.

As everyone had settled, Lily who still contemplating what it meant that his housemates call him Evans, turned to the class. It wouldn't do to be distracted during her lesson. Even by one of her sons. She could talk to him later, if he didn't try weasel away, that is. But she had had enough of that.

'Good morning class,' she said cheerfully and the class half-heartedly replied. She was well aware that they were getting antsy about not practising any magic but it was necessary.

'Today, we'll be doing something different,' she said and at once, she could see the light of curiosity in those young eyes. Ah, how she missed those days of youthful innocence.

'Professor, are we going to be doing magic?' asked Hermione Granger. She had grown to like the muggleborn girl who reminded Lily so much of herself when she was a first year. Of course, she had soon made friends with Alice and Marlene within the first month but it looked like Granger was more a Ravenclaw in that aspect.

'Yes, Ms. Granger. That we are,' Lily replied and was pleased to see their faces brighten up at that. 'We only have a single lesson today, therefore, we will be practising the wand lighting charm.'

There was a groan of disappointment at doing something so basic, particularly from Alexander and some Slytherins.

'Now, now. It is now deemed safe that everyone of you knows the basics of wand waving and wand safety. Therefore, we must start with the basics before we go onto the more advanced spells, for first years that is,' Lily had had the same argument with Alexander in private and was adamant that they not burden his magical core too soon, despite what him, James and Sirius kept insisting.

But they hadn't won an argument with her yet and it was not likely that they will anytime soon. 'Now, these are wand movements,' she drew out of her willow wand and waved it from left in a straight line, then a circle and then a line to the right, in an exaggerated fashion so they could all see it. 'Of course, you don't have to move your hand in a such an exaggerated fashion, that was only to demonstrate the proper movement. The incantation is Lumos.'

And with that, the class was off, waving their wands and incantating lumos. Lily travelled from each pair, looking at their wand movements and correcting their pronunciation.

Of course, Alexander was the first one to get it lit, even if it kept flickering a little. Hermione Granger was the second.

When she got to her other son, she stopped short as she saw his dark brown wand, almost the same shade as hers, only hers had a swirly handed that also had some black shading.

However, that was where the similarities ended, for Harry was having quite a lot of trouble getting his spell to work. His partner, Parvati had managed a slight speck of light onto her own wand tip.

Harry tried again, and again, not letting himself get frustrated. His mother stopped in front of them but he paid no attention. All his attention was on the wand, that he was trying get lighted up. He was sure his wand movements were perfect. So, it must either be his incantation or a problem with the intent.

'Good work, Ms. Patil. Five points to Gryffindor,' his mother said smiling at the Indian girl as she brightened up. 'Keep up the work, Harry. I'm sure you'll get it soon enough. Your pronunciation's fine.'

Her son only nodded at her as she moved, not wanting to make it seem like she was playing favourites, no matter how much she wanted to stay with him, her heart aching at his dismissal. But what else did she expect.

Harry meanwhile, was not one to be deterred. For the next hour, he barely paid any attention to Lavender Brown who had turned around and was now practising and occasionally giggling with Parvati. What the two girls found to giggle about in a charms class, he would never know.

Towards the end of the class, however, he had managed the barest of the sparks on his wand, no mattered how much he tried. But thankfully, he wasn't the only one who failed. Along with him, nearly half of the class couldn't manage the spell, despite their initial moans about doing something so basic instead of a flashy spell.

To his extreme ire, both Alexander and Draco had managed the charm, as had Granger. He supposed his mother deserved credit for giving Slytherins as much points when Draco lit his wand as she gave to Gryffindors when Granger did it.

As the class emptied, and everyone left for lunch, he paid no attention to the whispering of his mother and brother, only focusing on packing his bag, his mind already occupied by his most recent failure.

'Harry, stay for a minute,' the Professor said to him as made to follow the Slytherins and maybe pester Daphne about something. 'Please.' He wasn't going to listen but something about the tone of her request made him stop. It held none of the presumption of Alexander or the insufferable, arrogance of James Potter.

But he still hated her.

'Yes, Professor,' he replied, choosing to stay sitting at his desk. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Daphne and Tracey pausing at the door, looking back at him and then leaving.

This didn't go amiss by the Professor, who for some reason had a knowing smirk on her beautiful face as she hesitantly walked towards him, watching him with caution and sat down on the seat opposite him.

For a minute, both were silent, not knowing how to start this awkward conversation, or indeed what to say to each other. Harry was determined not to be the one to start it.

Eventually she broke, and sighed, 'Harry… I…,' she took one look at the son who was watching her with those suspicious narrowed eyes that made her question what went on at the Dursley house. So, she settled for the simplest starter of all. 'I'm sorry, Harry,' she was aware that her eyes were showing her weakness but didn't care. 'I'm so sorry, I didn't know. It was a mistake and…'

Harry was on the verge of freaking out. What in the name of Merlin was going on. He was well aware that he was hyperventilating. No! This wasn't what was supposed to happen. She was meant to be arrogant and presumptuous, and to demand him to spend time with Alexander, not apologise.

He didn't know how to deal with this. He was aware of the flinch, as she reached towards him, jerking away again. 'We thought you would be better off…'

Harry didn't know where the strength came from. Whether it was his own need to be strong. Whether it was his much-hated desire of a mother. Or whether it was his erratic heartbeat or whether it was those tears in those green eyes of the face opposite him. 'It's fine,' he murmured. 'It's… expected.'

Lily jerked her head upwards towards him, confusing marring her face as he said those words. What did he mean, expected? 'What… Harry, you need to know what happened at that night of October 31st.'

'I'm well aware,' Harry answered almost instantly, reminding of the time when he had the same thing a month ago in the headmaster's office.

'No, you're not, Harry,' Lily was determined to set him straight.

But Harry was her son after all and he had gotten her stubbornness from her. 'Yes, I am. The night of Halloween of 1981, Voldemort,' he paused as she flinched away from the name. 'Attacked. Alexander deflected the killing curse, somehow. And I was given to my guardians because I was rendered a squib in the magical backlash.'

Harry still didn't know where that information had come from. Yes, Aunt Petunia had something similar to him, if what she meant by 'she thought you were normal' was being a squib. But he hadn't known any of it even after her telling him.

But then, after the night of the Welcoming Feast, and especially after the first potion's class where Alexander confronted him, he had somehow known it. And it confused the hell out of him.

'So yes, I understand. It is what happens in pureblood families. Mrs. Malfoy told me as much,' Harry said truthfully, still not understanding what sort of game this woman in front of him was playing but he would figure it out.

Her face was one of shock when she heard her son had been talking to that witch! 'Narcissa Malfoy!'

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. What was that vehemence he just saw? 'Yes,' he replied.

His mother's face contorted in anger, 'No! Harry, she is evil! I forbid you to talk to her or her son or husband! They're death eaters!'

Harry's face angered as well as he rose. 'Forbid me?', he asked, his voice a mere whisper as he tried to understand what she just said. 'Forbid me!' he repeated.

'Yes! It's for your own good and…' Lily said, 'Your much better off being friends with the Weasleys and knowing Molly Weasley. She's a charming woman and light sided. And you should be friends with Rosaline or even Ginny rather than go after Greengrass!'

She was confused when Harry burst out laughing. Then her confusion turned to horror. His laugh wasn't her laugh like Rosie adopted nor was it the deep, throaty one of James that Alex has. No, it was a cackle, if anything. And it terrified her that it reminded her of a most dangerous witch.

Harry stood slowly, the chair dragging across the stone floor with a screech that went unheard by the mother and son, soft green eyes staring into bright emerald ones, so unlike her own. Yet, where else could have come from?

'You think you can give me away to muggles for ten years; keep me away from my heritage and then have the gall to presume you can command me!' whispered Harry, his nostrils flaring with unbidden anger. 'Forbid me!' Harry yelled, 'You must be more delusional than I thought!', having given up any pretence of civility he had towards her.

'Harry!' she yelled, also rising, taller than her son. 'I am your mother! You will talk to me with respect! Alex needed to be protected and we thought you were a squib! There was nothing else we could do!'

This display of dominance didn't go unnoticed by Harry, who was more angered by it rather than intimidated. 'My mother? You are not my mother!' Harry yelled back, aware of the stinging in his eyes.

Unbeknownst to him, something changed within him. A light deep inside him, embedded deep within his magical core but hidden under layers and upon layers, pulsated into life, awakening from its slumber, with the overwhelming emotion and unbidden despair that accompanied his words.

'No, you are merely the woman who birthed me!' Harry continued, paying no attention to the growing horror on Lily's face.

'As much as you deny it, I am your mother!' Lily insisted. 'And I know what is good for you, Harry! You don't know anything about this world. Who is light and good or dark and evil! And the Malfoys are almost as dark as the Blacks!', she said, willing her son to listen to her and to reason.

He needed to be taught what was good and evil in this world which was so different from the muggle world, but his next words shattered any restraints she had.

'And whose fault is that?' he yelled, 'I don't know much about mothers, but they don't abandon their children to muggle filth, like your wretched sister!'

'Enough!' she screamed.

Crack!

It took a few seconds for Harry to register the cracking sound, to the stinging on his cheek, where a red hand was printed quite clearly.

'Oh my god, I'm…,' Lily whispered, horror dawning on her as she realised what she had just done. She became aware of the trembling of Harry's lips, the wetness in his eyes threatening to spill over. She raised a hand, slowly, unthreateningly to soothe his cheek, 'Harry, I'm so…'

It was in that moment that Harry lost all control of his magic. With a scream, 'Get away from me!' he pushed her hand with his arm.

Magic, pure and untethered, unleashed, like a freight train rammed into Lily, throwing her across the room making her yell in surprise and panic, as a thundering crash shattered all the windows, the glass shards falling on them like rain from the heavens.

Before any of them could reach Harry, his magic lashed out, like a whip and powdered them into a dust, as he stood there, breathing heavy, eyes flashing red for a second, his face contorted in hate and anger.

'I don't have a mother,' his whisper in the air was clear as yell with a sonorous charm as he fled the room. 'I'm an orphan.'

At least, it was a good thing that the rest of the school was at lunch in the great hall, so nobody saw Harry's face streaming with tears as fled the castle, his eyes bloodshot and red rimmed. He didn't know how far he ran or where to or how long. He didn't remember how in the world he got to the island with the white tree. He didn't know if he would ever awake again when he passed into darkness.

Lily awoke with a start. She had fallen to unconsciousness when she hit her head on the wall. The setting was familiar, the white walls and bed sheets, curtains separating the many beds to protect the patients' privacy. Of course, after all those times her husband and his idiotic friends ended up in here, she would be an idiot not to remember the hospital wing.

And then like a hammer, it hit her. 'Oh no!' she wailed. How could she have done that! 'No, no,' she got off the bed, or tried to at least. Her body was still aching. How could have things gone so bad when it almost looked like they were having a civil conversation. Like he was about to listen to her. And even perhaps forgive her.

Now, she knew there was almost no chance of that. She cried into her hands; sobs wracked her body as she remembered his face when she had slapped him. But she couldn't help herself. Him talking like that about muggles, insulting her parents and her sister brought back all those memories of the dark days of Hogwarts during the war.

NO! She wouldn't let her son become like one of those death eaters! Even if she had to fight him. Even if he hated her for it, she would not let him despise muggles. She would show him the wonders of the muggle world. From architecture, to technology to great monuments like the wall of china.

It was her mistake trying to talk to him like she would James or Alex, like she would to a Gryffindor. No, he was a Slytherin. Nothing but cold, hard logic would get through to him.

But could things have gone so bad?! One minute they were talking normally, if a bit awkwardly, then they were yelling at each other. Oh! She remembered. She forbid him from talking to that whore Narcissa. Well, she wasn't sorry about that. Perhaps the way she worded it yes. But not the sentiment. She knew James would agree.

She waited until Poppy cleared her to leave, giving her a Pepperup potion and informing her that the damage to the classroom had been fixed already. At first, she wanted to immediately find Harry. But no. It was best that they both cooled down. She would find Alex and perhaps talk to James and Rosie.

Ever since she had started Hogwarts, she only talked to her daughter about twice a week. And she was missing her sweet little Rose. Of course, she would have to deflect her questions about Harry, which she asked her every time they talked. But there was nothing she could tell her daughter right now that wouldn't break her innocent heart.

Lily forced down the need to cry her and wail at her failure, as she remembered what Harry had said right before she passed out, 'I have no mother. I'm an orphan.'

The waves crashed into the black stone towers mercilessly, ruthlessly and viciously. But still, the mammoth currents of the North Sea had no erosion effect on the fortress, or island it was on. The desolate and barren island, shrouded in darkness, mist and miserable cold was magically hidden from the rest of the world.

The only beings to know its location were certain Ministry employees and the wraith like creatures that guard the prisoners, feeding on their every single happy memory, until they were left mere husks of their former selves, if they didn't go insane.

She lay on the hard-stone ground, her skin leathery and pale, her once beautiful and handsome face, gaunt, almost skeleton like; her hair, once thick and luscious was now straw-like but her emaciated face still held some retained vestige of her once great beauty, her eyes still held their purple shine.

Ten years in the wizarding prison, Azkaban, infested and guarded by dementors, the foulest creatures on earth, had done quite a bit of damage on her already shaky sanity.

Consumed by her memories of the past, she was neither aware of the dementors' comings and goings, except that she shivered a great deal. The thin blanket which was more like a sheet now did nothing to stop the biting cold in her bones.

But it wasn't the physical pain that kept the prisoners in. Nor were they chained. There was no need for that. For they were already imprisoned inside their heads, living their worst memories over and over again. Most went insane, especially after a decade in here.

She was the in the top most floor of the prison. The single window in the cell let in the salty air from the sea, the showers from the rain and the biting cold.

She had spent a decade not having talked to anyone. That didn't mean she didn't scream. No, she often did that. She couldn't talk to the other inmates, even if she wanted to. The wards isolated the cells from each, not only magically but acoustically as well, keeping sounds and screams imprisoned within the cells, with the inmates they came from.

Her head snapped up, alert after ten years of solitude and mental torture as a voice of a child reverberated deep within her mind, full of longing, resignation and utter despair. It was almost akin to the dementor induced despair she had been forced to endure in this hellhole. But the reason she was in here, she would do it again in a heartbeat. For there should be no mercy for those who betray their own family.

The voice murmured only one thing, quivering, longing, 'I have no mother. I'm an orphan.'

'ARES!' she screamed. 'ARES!' she threw her head in her hands, sobs wracked her body, once more consumed by her worst nightmare. Only, it was a memory.

When Harry had awoken hours later, it was nearing dusk. The blue was beginning to darken, the sun had already almost vanished beyond the horizon, the orange glow on the black lake making for an eerie sight.

How long had he slept? What had happened? Why had he passed out? His body felt frail. Every move he made ached him all over as if his very bones were tired. With a deep sadness, he remembered what had happened. He was disgusted with himself. For not having seen the woman's ploy. For having let his guard down. For even thinking for a second that she would be different. For crying!

He hated himself more than he hated her. He hadn't cried in years. Not since Uncle Vernon broke his right arm when he was eight and locked him in the cupboard for four days. He remembered calling out for his mother in the dark of his cupboard cell, in agonising pain. Hoping beyond hope that someone would save him.

But no. She hadn't come. Of course, she hadn't. She, who had abandoned him for her precious Boy-Who-Lived Alex, who had left him to be tortured by her sister and her husband. Why would she come for him, the squib boy they had cast aside.

Not for the first time since learning about the existence of his parents, did he wish that he had a different mother. One who, if not loved him, then even just saw him.

He was aware of the tears that had refreshed themselves and were streaming down his face but he didn't care. For here, nobody would see him. He was safe, for now. Until he had to get back to the castle.

It was perhaps nearing dinner now. And he was starving. Like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

'Master,' Harry looked to the side to see Sookie watching him with those big, worried eyes.

'Hello Sookie,' he replied, turning his head away, not wanting her to see him in such a state. He sat there, on the grass in the darkening island, in silence.

Not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to do now. But one thing was certain. He could feel the hate festering within him. The rage barely contained.

A slithering sound on the grass distracted him from his dark thoughts. It was the unmistakable sound of smooth scaly skin slithering on grass that he heard before. It was almost too subtle and too silent for normal people.

But Harry had always been a freak. He had never been normal. Even among wizards now, he was sure it wasn't common for someone to be so sensitive to a moving snake. It was if there was a sixth sense, superior to his hearing, or perhaps complimenting it.

Regardless, he was well aware that a snake was nearby. And it was hunting most likely. Harry had no intention of interfering with its meal. At least one of them should eat.

Just when he was about to get up and leave, a weird chirping sound made itself known. Almost like a chick. Ah, the prey. Harry looked around and sure enough, there it was, the small, boomslang like snake, with its distinctive green skin with black stripes, within striking distance of a small, almost naked, chick.

Harry didn't know how it was naked, but the very few feathers it did have, were black. Never had he seen such a chick. Surely, it is grew, the feathers would cover its entire body but what kind was it that it was black.

That wasn't it. There was something about it that called out to him. Harry couldn't pinpoint it, but it wasn't a normal chick.

The chick chirped again, having become aware of the deadly silent snake within striking distance and made to get away, trying to hop on its short legs, away from the predator.

Just as the boomslang got ready strike, Harry hissed, 'Don't! Stop now! Snake!'

The boomslang instantly, whipped its head and neck towards Harry, its black beady eyes scrutinising him, backing away in defence as Harry strode towards the little chick. 'My kill, speaker!'

'Not anymore,' Harry answered, lifting the chick into his hands and shielding him from the snake which was now baring its fang threateningly.

'Get your own kill!' the snake hissed back, now its anger obvious. Harry didn't know if snakes could glare but that was what it was doing right now.

It hissed in anger, its tongue flicking in and out, no doubt for signs of another prey now that his had been taken by a much larger predator. It wasn't stupid enough to try his luck with a speaker. It was a miracle that his two-legged, pink, speaker hadn't taken command over him.

Harry, who had been starved more than his fair share of times, knew how it was like to hungry for days. He knew that pain of an empty stomach and when all one could do was wish for a meal, even a slight one.

He didn't want that to inflict that pain on this snake. Especially, as it said, Harry had stolen his meal. The only reason Harry could think of that it didn't attack him was that Harry was much larger. It would foolish to risk death for a meal as measly as a chick.

Just as it was about to turn and leave, Harry said to Sookie, who was glaring at the snake, ready to strike it at a moment's notice, should it attempt to harm her master, 'Sookie, bring us some food. And some for these two.'

Harry didn't know what time it was but it must be nearing dinner in the castle. Surely, she could steal some from the castle.

At his declaration, the boomslang stilled, looking at Harry, probably confused. Harry wasn't nearly knowledgeable enough about snake expressions. 'You would give me your meal, two-legged, pink speaker?'

Harry looked at the chick in his hands. It looked so tiny, and so frail. Its bones sticking out from its body. It was probably starving. Ironic.

'It's only fair. I took your meal,' Harry hissed back, stroking the chick slowly. 'This one is under my protection, snake.'

At this, the boomslang was even more confused. 'What is fair?'

Harry didn't know how to answer that absurd question. Why didn't it know what fairness was? Granted, it was a foreign concept to most Slytherins, but it wasn't alien. 'Treating someone equally,' he eventually replied just as Sookie appeared with their dinner. A tray with steak and kidney pie, chips, orange juice and treacle tart for him.

She also had a bowl of some odd, wet, bird food he presumed and much like him, the boomslang too turned away in disgust from it.

That was until Sookie produced a dead rat for the snake, which it was only too happy to see. It didn't have to hunt for a new one now. Although, the thrill of the hunt was something, it didn't want to have to go through it all again.

Harry looked at the snake, crinkled his nose in disgust. He may like some snakes, but it didn't mean he didn't find their way of eating disgusting. It was just plain freaky. 'Please don't eat in front of me.'

The boomslang hissed in frustration as he moved around so Harry couldn't see it engulfing the rat, whole.

'Sookie, watch out that there are no other predators,' Harry ordered and she nodded eagerly, finally having something to do as he sat down the chick onto his lap and fed it the goo with the spoon, occasionally taking a bite from his own dinner.

Finishing the meal took a long time that it usually did and Sookie took the rest of the dinner away. The boomslang had long since left, with a thank you. It wouldn't have to hunt for at least another week now. Presuming it survived that long.

'What's wrong, Sookie,' Harry asked, now heading back to the castle, his head now much clearer now that his anger had died down and he had some dinner in his stomach. 'Something I did?'

Apparently, in his dazed state, he hadn't paid attention but the tiny island with the white tree wasn't that far away from the east shore. Harry just walked through the water, which was merely knee deep. It was slightly disconcerting that he had been so out of it that he hadn't seen how he had gotten there. For all he knew, he could have drowned.

But he did see the sad look on Sookie's face. She shook her head, horrified that he would think that, 'No! Master Harry be the greatest! Master must not concern himself with lowly Sookie.'

Harry shook his head. Elves were fascinating creatures if a little stubborn. There was no way she would tell him unless he ordered her to. And he didn't particularly feel like doing it. He sighed, 'Sookie, if you don't tell me what's wrong, I will order you to.'

'Sookie be missing work, Master,' she said, making herself a little small.

Of course, she was. She was a house elf. They craved service and needed work. How could he be so stupid? But he didn't particularly want to lose a useful house elf like her. 'Very well then. I will talk to Professor Snape and see if you can work in the castle's kitchen.'

She brightened up immediately, and immediately slammed into him, grabbing as much of his robes as she could, 'Thank you, Master Harry bes the greatest wizard in the world!'

Harry smiled, somewhat amused that something so little can brighten her up, 'But you can't dress in a rag,' he looked at her pointedly, but she had steadfastly refused all clothes, even to wear and not to set her free.

An idea struck her as he fished out a few galleons from his pocket, 'Go to Hogsmeade, buy some cloth and make yourself a toga or something respectable. You don't want me to be a laughing stock among the school elves, do you?'

She shook her vigorously, taking the galleons, she puffed up her chest, 'Sookie be looking worthy of Master Harry in no time.'

And before he could say anything else to her, she disapparated. How they managed to do that on Hogwarts grounds, he didn't know. But he assumed that house elf magic worked differently to wizard magic.

It seemed that he made it back to the castle just before curfew. He had gone to the bathrooms on the first floor to wash face and so when he walked in, he was sure he didn't look out of the ordinary.

Yet, why were the other students looking at him like he had grown a second head. Among them were his classmates, who watched him apprehensively, and in Daphne's case studiously.

As he made his way to his usual spot, and took out the transfiguration books he needed to complete his essay, Harry made sure not to look at the Slytherins who lived to make his life miserable within the confines of the common room.

Soon, Tracey had come up to him and asked if he was alright. 'Of course, I am. Why?'

Tracey looked a little apprehensive about answering that, 'Oh no. Its nothing. It's just that…'

'Oi Potter. Did you really blow up the charms classroom?' came the obnoxiously loud question from Draco from over his place near the hearth.

'What?' Harry asked, confused. 'Blow up the classroom? Of course, not!'

There was a murmur of something that travelled through the gathered students. In some cases, even money passed hands.

'Really?' Tracey asked, eyeing him curiously. 'Rumour has it that you attacked the Charms Professor, blew up the charms classroom and ran away.' He could see the others didn't believe him either.

Harry chuckled. 'Yes. Which is why I'm sitting here, and not expelled, and Slytherin hasn't lost a hundred points.'

He may have sounded confident but in truth he had jus barely managed to keep the look horror off his face as he realised, he had just done indeed that.

'See, I told you he didn't have the power to do it,' Draco said haughtily to Blaise, who grumbled something and forked over a couple of galleons to the blonde boy who eagerly pocketed. For some rich kids, they sure grumble a lot about a few galleons.

It was a while of silently doing some homework, while Tracey had gone to her dorm with Daphne, when he heard something interesting. Not from the Slytherins, but from his unseen informant.

'Draco?' he called over the boy, who was playing exploding snap with Crabbe.

'What is it, Potter?' Draco didn't look over as he concentrated on getting double bowtruckles.

'I heard you have a duel with Alexander tonight,' Harry replied, taking a seat near the trio playing exploding snap.

That was when the deck exploded and Draco cursed, 'Who told you that?', eyeing him suspiciously. So was Blaise with narrowed eyes.

Harry smirked. That was an advantage he wasn't about to fork over any time soon. 'I have my sources. And besides, you weren't exactly subtle about it.'

Draco frowned at the implication that he had acted in a non-Slytherin way. While it was true, he hadn't been subtle but that was the point. He smirked at the idiot questioning him. 'Don't worry about it. I'm not going to cost us points, unlike you.'

Harry grinned. That was all that was he needed. Harry nodded, and got up to leave, waiting for midnight.

Any Slytherin worth his salt would know that a duel at midnight, on the first floor where there are patrols around, would surely get them caught. Even if they managed to somehow evade the patrols, the noise would surely attract them.

And Harry had just confirmed that Draco wasn't a fool, after all. So, he must have told Filch already, or Professor Snape, which was more likely. In a weird way, Harry, for all that he disliked the blonde braggart, felt proud of him.

Now it was up to Harry to improve upon Draco's plan. But it would be risky no doubt. But nothing comes without taking a few strategic risks. At exactly eleven, Harry with a large bag over his shoulders, like Santa, snuck through the passageway of the Slytherin common room, and into the castle, praying that he not be caught before his plan even came to fruition.

Almost there, Harry even breathed cautiously, careful to stay in the shadows, he crept forward. It would be a great help to be able to light his wand, but one, it would attract undue attention of the portraits, and two, he couldn't do the damn charm.

It was a whirlwind of events that confused Alex today. His mother had somehow ended up in the hospital wing, with bruised ribs and a concussion, with all the windows shattered in her classroom and Merlin knows what else. But she was fine and he couldn't focus on that now.

The rest of the evening since dinner, Alex had been imparting duelling tips to Ron, who was supposed to be his second. Tips that he had learnt from his father in their practice duels. Of course, his mother wasn't agreeable to it, but he was the Boy-Who-Lived. He needed to be trained properly. So, he and his father and occasionally his godfather, Sirius made use of the duelling room in their home in London.

Small tit bits of information like dodging wherever possible; not shielding when one doesn't know a shield charm; and always being first in a duel. At half past eleven, him and Ron snuck down from their dormitory.

They were already halfway through the portrait hole when there was a cough from behind them. They froze and slowly turned as a lamp flickered on, only to let out their breaths, seeing that it was just Granger sitting on the sofa with a fierce scowl on her face.

'Granger?' Ron asked confusedly, just as confused as Alex felt. 'Go back to bed,' he hissed harshly.

'How hypocritic of you, Ronald,' Granger replied, scowling even fiercer. 'I heard you two in the Great Hall, and so did a few others. You two are going to get caught and you'll lose Gryffindor all the points that I got for knowing about switching spells!'

Alex sighed exasperatedly, 'No we're not. Go to bed, Granger!' He knew that for a fact, as he padded the parchment hidden in his hoodie pocket.

'Yeh. Who cares about a few points anyway?' Ron said, turning towards the hole again.

Alex couldn't help but agree. What was a few house points in exchange for showing Malfoy who was boss at this school, once and for all? And in any case, he had to get him back for stunt they pulled this morning with the remembral. And Harry too, when Alex got the chance. He was still confused about that but that could wait till later.

'No, you will!' Granger stood up, frowning at them. They sighed annoyedly. They had never met such an interfering girl all their life and they lived with their mothers for Merlin's sake – both of whom had no sense of their privacy.

'Come on, Ron. Let's just go,' Alex said, pulling his best friend with him. Ron followed but not without giving Granger one last glare.

The fat lady grumbled incoherently about brats not letting her sleep as they pushed the portrait door open. Granger followed them through. 'Don't either of you care at all about Gryffindor. You just lost forty points this morning! I don't Slytherin to win the house cup for eight year in a row and if you don't come back, I will tell….'

Ron hissed, 'Go away!'

If anything, Granger glared even fiercely and whirled around to return to bed. Only, she couldn't. The fat lady was gone.

'Uggh!' she sighed exasperatedly and followed them.

'What are you doing?!' Ron hissed, and Alex saw the problem. But that didn't mean the interfering girl had to come with them.

'I'm coming with you,' Granger said smugly. Alex thought she was far too smug for someone who was locked out at night, after hours.

'No you're not!' Alex replied, striding forward, only to fall as he bumped into a pudgy lump on the floor.

The lump groaned in pain. What in the hell?

'Neville!' Granger said, surprised. Indeed, on the floor, getting up along with him, was Neville Longbottom.

Ron groaned in annoyance that Alex completely understood.

'What are you doing out here?' Granger asked, also confused at the turn of events. Ugh they were getting late. He would be damned if he let Malfoy think he was a chicken.

'Well…. Its… That is I…,' Neville mumbled something, looking down at his feet.

'You forgot the password, again?' Granger said, disbelief clear in her tone.

Neville nodded, blushing in embarrassment. Alex sighed, 'Password is Cadogan. But you'll have to wait until the fat lady comes back. Ron, come!'

'But…!' Neville moaned loudly, looking back the portrait.

'Shut it!' Ron hissed at him, looking around. Neville immediately put his hand at his mouth, terrified that somebody might have heard him. 'Wait don't leave without me…,' the pudgy boy followed the duo, with a nodding Granger behind him.

Harry was almost there, just a little further. He stuck his head around the corridor slightly, to see if anyone was there or hear any footsteps.

'Ahem,' there was a sudden cough from behind him as a light lit up. Yelping in a rather undignified manner, Harry turned around slowly. Crap. He had been so close.

Only to see none other than his dormmate. 'What in the hell, Zabini! What are you doing here?', he whispered harshly, turning to see if anyone was there.

'What does it look like, following you of course,' Blaise replied nonchalantly as Harry rolled his eyes, continuing on his way to the trophy room.

'I can see that,' Harry replied. 'Why?'

'I was curious as to what you were doing sneaking out at the time nearer to Draco's duel,' Blaise smirked at him, and noting his narrowed eyes at the lit wand. Muttering 'Nox' under his breath, he turned it off, following Harry. 'Particularly when Draco has no intention to duel your brother.'

'I know that,' Harry sighed. 'I'm not stupid.'

'Says the boy sneaking about at night without a plan,' Blaise snipped back.

Harry shook his head. He had a plan. He just wasn't going to tell Zabini about it. 'Oh, and what about you? Following me without knowing the situation. Very unslytherin of you.'

'Don't be silly, Potter,' he replied, his tone was as if he was deeply insulted that Harry would even insinuate that he would act in a frankly Gryffindorish manner. Which he no doubt thought Harry was doing.

Harry chuckled, but didn't deign him with a response. 'Well, well. Ickle Potter. Out of bed after curfew!'

Crap! They whirled around to see Peeves of all people floating there, grinning like the loon he was.

'What am I to do!,' he cackled. Blaise frantically looked around to see if someone had heard him while Harry racked his brain for something to appease the mischievous poltergeist.

'Peeves. Quiet, please!' Blaise begged him as he got a sudden gleam in his eyes.

'Hey Peeves, I've got a deal for you,' Harry said, hoping this would appease him. This stopped the menace before he even started yelling, which he was no doubt about to do.

'Dealsie with Peevsie?' he asked curiously, just as Blaise looked at him as if he had offered his kidney.

Harry nodded. 'I will give you four dungbombs if you don't tell anyone of me and Blaise being out of bed.'

Peeves' eyes widened as he adopted a thinking expression, 'Six dungbombs, and Potter got a dealsie.'

Harry rolled his eyes, 'Fine.'

Opening his bag, he handed Peeves the required amount, but strategically hid the rest, not wanting to know how many he had asked Sookie to buy for him.

'Good to do business with you, Potter,' tipping his absurd hat, Peeves floated away round the corridor, no doubt to cause more havoc.

'What?' he asked Blaise, seeing his questioning gaze.

'Nothing,' Blaise replied wisely, having figured out that whatever plan Harry had, he wouldn't share it with him. Not yet, at least.

Half an hour later, they were done laying the trap. Blaise had reluctantly agreed. He was quite fussy about possibly messing up his immaculate sleeping gown.

They were just about to exit the trophy room, wrinkling their noses when a large scream sounded from somewhere dangerously close to them.

'STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS IN THE CORRIDOR! POTTER NEAR THE TROPHY ROOM!'

Crap. Peeves had ratted them out. Almost instantly, they heard the sound of quickly shuffling feet and a lantern. Harry and Blaise bolted, out of the trophy room, and rounded a corner.

There was nowhere to hide. They were going to get caught and Snape was going to skin them alive. Crap.

'In there, now!' Harry pointed to the broom cupboard, wrenching open the door.

'Are you insane,' Blaise hissed at him. 'We'll get caught!'

'Do you have any other plan?' Harry asked, rushing into the cupboard, Blaise reluctantly following him into the closet, muttering about enclosed spaces. But Harry had plenty of experience with that.

Taking out his wand, he did the much-practiced wand motion, and muttered, 'Colloportus!'

It didn't work. Crap. He did it three times again, just as the sound of feet got louder as they held their breath. It was Filch alright. They could hear Mrs. Norris nearby.

Once, twice, he tried the handle and it didn't work, much to Harry's pleasure. He tried a third time, grumbling about fiendish Potter and hurried away.

Waiting a couple of minutes for the coast to clear, he did the unlocking charm and they crept out the broom cupboard, and upon seeing that the coast was clear, they bolted, opposite to the side of the Trophy Room.

Filch was still nearby. Harry just hoped his plan worked. It was a hastily put together scheme that there was the saying that no plan survived first contact. And his had already failed, somewhat.

'Sookie!' Harry whispered as they ran. Blaise's eyes widened at the familiar elf that popped up, running along with them. Harry cursed internally, at having to show a useful tool in front of Blaise, but he was desperate. He was sure that Peeves yelling would have attracted prefect patrols.

'Master?'

'I need you to create a distraction. Alex and Weasel are somewhere on the first floor. I need you to do something to give away their position,' Harry ordered, already coming up with a second part.

'What are you thinking, Potter!' Blaise asked they hurried away, doing their best to keep silent.

Harry replied, 'Hoping to pin the blame on a different Potter.'

With that, Harry took a deep breath. He had a lot of practice for this, getting Dudley in trouble at school. 'Not a word about this to anyone!' he warned Blaise who only raised his eyebrow but nodded, seeing as the situation was dire.

With as much magic as he could gather in his throat, making Blaise pale, he yelled.

Alex and his company were nearly to the Trophy Room when they heard a sound from behind them. The unmistakable chuckle. They turned around, horrified. There was no Draco and no Crabbe.

'Ooooh!' Peeves' eyes gleamed with a manic look, 'Ickle firsties out of bed! Ohhh what is Peevsie to do!', he cackled like a loon.

Everyone paled considerably, as Alex begged, 'Peeves, please! No…'

'Tut tut… naughty naughty Potter!' he cackled, jumping up and down on the head of a suit of armour. 'Ickle naughy firsties shouldn't be out of bed…'

'Shut it Peeves!' Ron hissed furiously at the poltergeist and made the mistake of trying to swipe at him.

Peeves gave them a wink and threw his head back. They knew what was going to happen and bolted right away.

'STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS IN THE CORRIDOR! POTTER NEAR THE TROPHY ROOM!'

'Dammit Peeves,' Alex growled as they ran out of the trophy room as footsteps reverberated.

There was a crash, making Hermione yelp in surprise, their heartbeats frantic. 'What?' Peeves was still behind them. They could hear him screaming his head off.

Then another crash from in front of them. As they ran forward, they saw the fallen armour, then another, making an even louder crash. What in the world was going on?

Then there was a yell. Alex was mystified. As were the others. It was his voice. His own voice yelling. But it wasn't coming from his mouth. 'RON! HURRY UP! WE CAN'T GET CAUGHT! I'M THE BOY-WHO-LIVED! AND BESIDES, FILCH CAN'T DO ANYTHING TO US! LEAVE THE DUNGBOMBS!'

Horrified beyond belief, they had stopped to hear the voice. What in the name of Merlin was going on? What dungbombs? Who was that?

Alex sprinted down the corridor, the other three, hot on his heels as they threw themselves onto a staircase that promptly moved. Impatiently, they waited until it stopped. They sprinted forwards, from a wall filled with stone statues, the lanterns lining the corridor flaring to life magically.

There was another crash from behind them. An armour again. Or maybe a statue!

'What is happening!' Hermione hissed frantically from behind him. Neville was whimpering as he followed them.

'I don't know!' Alex replied trying the lock of the door. 'Dammit. It's locked!'

'Ugh move over!' Hermione pushed him aside, tapping the lock with her wand. 'Alohomora!'

The lock immediately clicked open. Alex wrenched it open and they rushed in, closing it as soon as Neville was in, listening to any sounds of Filch. There didn't seem to be. Thank Merlin. They were safe now.

'Peeves that menace!' Alex whispered as they didn't hear another crash or footsteps. All of them were pressed to the door, itching to get out and on the way to the common room even as Neville whimpered behind them.

Pulling on Alex's robe, he muttered, 'Guys….'

'Shush, Neville!' Alex shushed him, taking his hand off his robe.

'Alex…'

'Shush!'

'But…'

All of three of them whirled around, determined to silence their non-silence companion when all of their breaths left their bodies.

There, on the floor, was a very large dog. With three heads. It yawned, its three pairs of eyelids flickering awake ever so slowly.

All of a sudden, there was a loud crash of stone breaking from somewhere outside. Neville whimpered. The eyelids snapped open and the three headed dog growled, rising to its feet.

'AHHHHH!' they screamed, Alex threw open the door and bolted out, the three following him, with Neville's whimpers having turned to moans now.

The dog growled and barked and snapped, ramming its large heads onto the door as they pushed it back with all their might, determined not to let the beast out.

They were losing the fight. It was too strong! They needed to bolt. Fast!

'Ciero!' a white bolt of light shot past them to the door and it snapped shut with a hiss. All four of relaxed visibly against the door, the dog's barks and growls being magically silenced until they couldn't be heard any longer.

As one, the quartet snapped their heads up. Who had cast the spell? Filch couldn't have, he was a squib.

Slowly, they turned, only to see the furiously, glowing face of one Minerva McGonagall, looking the personification of death, her nostrils flaring, her jaw tight and her hand white around her wand and behind her, a thoroughly unamused, rule abiding, prefect, perfect Percy Weasley, his face as red as his hair.

Neville whimpered, trembling beside Alex. Even Granger quivered and for once, Alex could understand their reactions.

'What in the world are you four doing?' she whispered, but no one could mistake the rage in her voice.

Harry and Blaise, mercifully had a very short run from the trophy room to the entrance hall and from there into the dungeons, where thankfully they would be safe from the rest of the school.

'Wolfsbane,' Harry whispered, rushing through the open passage, followed hastily by Blaise. Once safely inside the comfort of their sanctuary, they both let out the breath they had been holding.

They looked at each other, feeling quite triumphant at their adventure, burst into chuckles.

'And what would two fine, young gentlemen such yourselves be doing out of bed this time in the morning?'

They both froze instantly, their chuckles dying in their throats. Slowly, they turned their heads until they faced their completely and utterly furious head of house, still half hidden in the shadow of the room, giving him an incredibly creepy look, his black eyes threatening to incinerate them on the spot.

Shadows flickered onto his visage from the dying embers in the hearth. 'I trust neither of you were caught in this particular endeavour of yours?'

Harry shook his head, already coming up with half a dozen excuses. Blaise replied, deceptively calm in a way that made Harry quite jealous of him, 'No sir.'

Snape only nodded, 'Mr. Zabini. Go to bed.'

Blaise wasted not a second as he hurried off to their dorm, but the look in his eyes made it clear that the questions weren't over.

'Sir, I…'

'Silence,' he drawled and instantly Harry shut his mouth.

One of the things that he admired about his hateful Head of House was his uncanny ability to appear threatening without even raising his voice. A hiss, a whisper and his countenance was enough to make people feel that they should be quiet.

'I do not know what you were up to nor I do care to know,' Snape said, 'But know this. Your father too was an arrogant lout during his time here, and still his no doubt. He too strutted about after hours, thinking rules were below the likes of quidditch gods like him, for mere mortals like us.'

And as quick as a snake, he swooped down onto him. Harry couldn't help his eyes from widening. 'I will not tolerate such behaviour from you. Am I clear?'

Harry nodded, not saying a word. But a question was burning in his mind. How had he known. Did he check their dorms after midnight?

'Good,' Snape sat back down in the armchair. 'Now as it happens, I was looking for you during the day but couldn't find you! Would you care to explain your absence from lunch, or defence against the dark arts or astronomy? Or perhaps you would like to explain why your mother was in the hospital wing with a charms classroom trashed?'

Harry's mind whirled with the questions he had asked, trying to come up with a suitable lie.

'And trust me. I shall know if you lie,' Snape said dangerously. Harry cursed internally.

'Accidental magic, sir. It got out of control after a…. difficult meeting with Professor Potter,' Harry replied, not breaking gaze with the man. He knew as well as he felt the brush of magic in his head.

None of them said anything for a while. Until Snape let out a breath of sigh, frustrated. 'And I had thought you were more sensible than that foolish brother of yours. So, what was it that warranted such an act of Gryffindorish stupidity from you?'

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Snape wasn't digging more into the encounter he no doubt saw in his head. He knew he had to work on his occlumency but of course, he was nowhere near powerful enough to keep someone like Snape out of his head.

Why was he asking about tonight when most likely know it, 'To establish Slytherin's point lead, sir.'

'Hmmm,' was Snape only reply as he stood up from his place on the armchair and towards the entrance door. 'Detention tomorrow night at seven, Potter.'

Harry nodded, taking Snape's dismissal and made his way to the dorm, glad that his scheme had went as had expected, despite the minor setback of Peeves.

From his place near the fireplace, Snape's eyes didn't leave the boy's back. Instead, the gears were turning in his head, as he contemplated about the enigma that was Hadrian Potter. And much like his own charges, he began plotting. But unlike the dunderheads, his were subtle and he didn't get caught carrying them out.

Now it remained to be seen what happened to the others. For the first time since he woke up in the morning, Severus Snape had a reason to smile as he went to bed.

The next day, Harry woke up, feeling unusually happy. No, it was more like a feeling on freedom. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

And for the first time in his life. He felt like he could do whatever he wanted. He was free. It was a… foreign feeling. And he was determined to milk it for however long it lasted.

Another hour and half later, and he had performed his regular morning running exercises and ablutions, dressed in his usual expensive robes, Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. Not sparing a glance to the stares and glares that had become almost a part of his everyday life, he filled his plate with bacon, sausages, eggs and dug in, as sophisticated as he could manage, as hungry as he was.

Harry paid no attention to the snickering Slytherins or the wide open, gaping mouths of the other students houses when he fed the little raven chick he took out from his pocket.

He couldn't leave the poor thing alone in the dormitory. Merlin knew there were enough cats in there that the chick would be dead and in some beasts' stomach before first period. It was probably an owl, he decided. Or more unlikely, a raven.

It was still quite weak. Like it had been injured somehow. He made a mental note to read up on healing spells as soon as possible. But it was a given that he couldn't carry the thing in his pocket everywhere he went.

He would give it to Sookie to take care of during the day after he left here. Taking out the Charms book he had borrowed from the library, he continued reading up on the chapter of shield charms, their uses and different types of shield charms.

It wasn't a spell book, but a completely theoretical one. Harry's problem with spells was a recurring one and it was quite unpredictable and stumped him more than anything did. Why had a simple lighting charm not worked for him, but the locking and unlocking charms did. Granted, he had been practicing those two ever since he had started Hogwarts. So maybe that was the case.

'Hey Harry,' he looked up from the book as Tracey sat near him but not beside or opposite to him. That was still quite a change. She was still beside Daphne. But normally, they sat nowhere near him. 'What's that?' she motioned towards the chick who was sitting near the book.

'Morning, Tracey.' Momentarily Harry was confused. He thought she was pointing to the book. 'Oh this. I found it yesterday. An owl chick. It's injured, I think.'

'If a weak chick is injured, you let it die,' Draco drawled on in his arrogant tone. 'You don't encourage its weakness.'

Daphne nodded to Draco's sentiment and that also stumped Harry. Something had changed in Daphne. Why was she sitting so close to the blonde ponce?

'Hello Daffodil,' Harry gave her a charming grin. Or what he hoped was charming. 'Hoe are you this fine morning?'

Her face tightened as he used that insufferable nickname again, despite all her protests. 'I'm fine. Evans! Until I saw your face that is.'

The git didn't let it the retort break him. 'Of course, you are. You grow more beautiful with every passing day.'

She huffed and looked away, not deigning to give a response to his useless attempts at charming her.

'Keep your witless comments to yourself, Potter,' Draco added, looking a little annoyed at him but his attention was soon at Pansy who slid next to Draco and draped herself on his arm.

'Aww, Drake, you didn't wait for me in the common room,' she said, looking at him admiringly, giving a curt nod to everyone else and to Harry's amusement and confusion, a glare, not to him but to Daphne.

That was interesting. And new. Blaise soon joined them, and Harry was left even more confused. What in the name of Merlin was going on? Zabini was sitting opposite him. Surely, they had planned something sinister and dastardly. He wouldn't fall in one of their plots.

'Where are you going?' Zabini asked him as he got up, making everyone else look at him in surprise.

Harry grinned, at Daphne, 'As much as I like being in Daffodil's charming and stimulating company, I have the transfiguration essay to complete sadly,' he bowed gallantly to her scowling face and was about to leave when the group received a most unexpected visit.

From Alexander Potter and his sidekick, Weasel. They were both glaring, death. Only, not at him this time. But at Draco. That was amusing. Harry decided to stay to be entertained for a little while before getting to work.

He could see the hall was almost filled, and most looked on, intrigued as to what would take the Gryffindor Golden Boy to the snake's table.

Draco and Alex exchanged a few jibes at each other and Harry rolled his eyes. Both were such children.

'You got scared, Malfoy?' Alex sneered at Draco. 'You didn't show!'

'Show where?' Harry had to give credit to Draco's acting skills at looking confused when he knew exactly what Alexander was saying.

Weasel growled at something incoherently from behind Alexander. From the corner of his eyes, Harry could see Professor McGonagall leaning in to tell something to Professor Potter, who grew angrier by the second.

Alex however, wasn't aware of that developing situation. Harry was glad he had decided to stay and sat back down.

'You chickened out of our duel last night!' Alex spat, waving his hands around like a child throwing a tantrum. 'And because of you, we lost points and Filch said that I exploded dungbombs in the Trophy Room! Admit it, it was you!'

Weasel nodded vigorously from behind Alex as Slytherins sniggered at the stupidity of the boy. He was only too eager to condemn himself.

Draco however, looked confused. Harry thought it was the correct time to butt in. 'You challenged him to a duel, and instead of fighting bravely like you Gryffindors are supposed to do, you decide to ambush him with dungbombs in the trophy room? Remind me if I'm wrong, but that is not definition of bravery or courage, is it, Draco?'

Draco, who had now caught on to Harry's ploy, smirked in response, 'It most certainly is not, Harry.'

Weasel grew even redder by the second. Just when Alexander was about to retort, there was a yell from the staff table, and they saw Professor Potter striding up to a paling Alexander, looking enraged.

'ALEXANDER LILLIAN POTTER!', she yelled, ignoring the snickers from the other students at her son's unfortunate middle name, as his face's colour changed from white to red.

'Minerva just told me that not only were you, and your three friends were out of bed late at night, but just exactly where you were found! And you and your friends set off dungbombs in the Trophy Room! Shame on you!'

Alex shook his head, as did Weasley who had paled considerably at the sight of a furious Lily Potter.

'No, Mum… I didn't…,' he tried to explain himself but a glare from his mother shut him up.

'Quiet!'

'Now. Since you have already lost eighty points for Gryffindor for last night's adventure, you and your three friends will be serving a further two weeks detention with Mr. Filch!' Professor Potter finished with a glare at her son that brooked no opposition, even as all the three stated friends paled.

Hermione Granger almost looked like she was going to cry as Professor Potter left the Great Hall in a huff, but not without sending Alex a warning look. She paused, and looked at Harry for a second – which he promptly ignored – but left just as quickly.

Filch said something to Professor Snape, who nodded, sneering at the duo of Gryffindors who had trudged back to their table and sat down.

'Twenty points from Gryffindors for covering the entirety of the Trophy Room in exploded dungbombs, which you will be cleaning up, Potter,' Snape sneered.

'What?!' Alex yelled, growing red again. His mother was a different thing but he wasn't going to take this from his and his father's hated enemy.

Snape only smirked, looking forward to taking more points off Gryffindor, but it was quite impossible since they were already in negative.

'Potter, sit down, now!' Percy glared at Alex and his brother, who begrudgingly wilted and took their seats, among the furious Gryffindors, glaring at the four students but also at Percy Weasley, for some reason that Harry couldn't fathom.

Draco however, was over the moon. Absolutely ecstatic, for the rest of the day, if not the week. Naturally, he took the credit to the entire plot in the Slytherin common room and was heralded as a hero.

Harry spent the rest of the day, trying to ignore the inquisitive looks from one Blaise Zabini and occasionally from Tracey Davis. He didn't know what had changed, but clearly something had.

The rest of the week passed without further mischief from Alex and Weasley. Mercifully, even the Weasley twins had seemed to take it easy, seeing the position Gryffindor was in.

Percy was not like the rest of his brothers, he knew. His older brothers, Bill and Charlie were both brilliant and clever. While Bill excelled in countering the Dark Arts and curses, Charlie was an exceptional Seeker, but who chose to spend his life looking after dragons.

They were both always surrounded by friends wherever they went. Even now, in Egypt and Romania, both Bill and Charlie were quite popular with the ladies.

His immediate younger brothers, Fred and George had such ease of personality and the uncanny ability to make people laugh, revelling in their prankster ways which they used their intellect for, rather than study something useful.

Even Ronald, his other younger brother had found a true friend in Alexander Potter, ever since they were introduced to each other at seven years old. Percy didn't like the Boy-Who-Lived much and thought he was too arrogant and laid back, but since friendship with him made Ron and his mother happy, he put up with it. Indeed, even his sister, the only girl in the family had been enamoured with the boy ever since she was a child.

Like every other child in their world, Ginny too had grown up with the stories of the Boy-Who-Lived – mostly fictional stories written for children, but also the one that everyone knew. That Alexander Potter was the only one to ever survive the killing curse, deflecting it onto You-Know-Who, defeating him and putting an end to the dark days of war.

He knew very well what their mother wished, and had been telling Ginny secretly. Hell, even Bill knew it but they didn't dare interfere. The thought of risking their mother's wrath was not a pleasant one.

Percy though, wasn't particularly popular. Nor was he capable of making everyone laugh. The fifth year didn't even have very many friends, let alone a girlfriend though there was one curly blonde haired, fifth year girl who he thought was quite fetching but hadn't come up with the courage to talk to her, yet.

Perhaps he would write to Charlie and ask him for advice. He was loathed to ask anything from Fred and George. The next thing he knew, it would the gossip of the entire school, courtesy of the twins and their three chaser friends.

No, academics was the one thing that Percy had and it was the one thing that he strived his best to perform in. The one area where he was able to do better than the rest of his brothers. His reputation of rule abiding and learning was a well, and hard-earned one, and one that to his family, he had always had. And he liked it that way.

The rules were in place for a reason. They were to keep everyone safe and ensure that they were treated fairly. And if they weren't followed or enforced, then what did it leave but anarchy? Why have them in the first place if they weren't to be followed.

It was for this fact, and that he had the best grades in the school in fifth year, that Professor McGonagall chose him for Prefect. Well, it was a choice between him or Oliver Wood, who had been aghast at even being offered the position.

There was no way in the name of Morgana and Merlin, that he would allow anything to come between him and his precious quidditch. Honestly, the boy was obsessed with a game of chasing balls. And Percy had eagerly expected and accepted the honour.

And it was his rule abiding nature that prompted him to immediately alert Professor McGonagall when he heard Filch's yelling, the crashing of armours and the running of footsteps, during his patrol. And low and behold. What would they find on the very corridor forbidden by the headmaster, his idiotic brother and Potter!

Why had Granger and Longbottom decided to follow them for their stupid duel at midnight was something Percy couldn't quite fathom. So, the next few days weren't fun for him. He was being shunned by the rest of his house. And for what? Because he held up his duty and fulfilled his responsibility as a prefect?

It wasn't his fault that four first years were found out of bed on third floor corridor. Neither was it his fault that Gryffindor had lost a hundred and forty points within the week, putting them in negative numbers and it wasn't even Halloween yet. Of course, they were all quick to blame him. He wasn't the one who had snuck out at midnight. But seeing as the lions would never blame the precious golden child, the Potter's only son, despite the fact that there were two of them, Percy got the brunt of it. Stupid, moronic, idiots! He cursed a little more in his head, ones that he would never dream of uttering and went back to his Runes homework.

It was the second Friday of October and Harry was already scheming, again. Plotting was more like it. But this time, it had nothing to do with himself. Well, not really. It was really for the benefit of the entire school really.

Shame that they wouldn't be able to see it from his point of view. As such, after the day's class, he had gone to the Library and asked Madam Pince for the Hogwarts by-laws and was combing through the thick tome for anything that could be of use to him.

The two weeks hadn't gone well at all. No, he was being continuously hexed and jinxed in the corridors by Gryffindors, and he suspected, even some Slytherins, despite the unwritten rule of unity. Apparently, the rumour that he had attacked Professor Potter had made rounds despite the fact that neither Harry nor said Professor said anything and the Gryffindors didn't take it sitting down.

He suspected they were angrier about the hundred- and forty-point loss. This morning, his hair was a vivid shade pink. He ignored the guffaws of laughter as he walked the halls, knowing full well that it was dinner time but of course, he couldn't go to Great Hall unless he wanted to be embarrassed, which he did not.

The house had kept up their annoying habit of putting bags on empty spaces if he walked in to the Great Hall for meals. As such, it was during those days that he forwent going to the Great Hall altogether and had Sookie bring him his dinner or lunch.

That made him want to leak how exactly he had gotten Slytherin the hundred- and forty-point lead. Show them that the praise they heaped upon Draco, like Daffodil does, actually belonged to him. But he was quite certain that if it actually came out, the jinxing and hexing from Gryffindors would increase monumentally.

He grit his teeth in frustration at his inability to practise magic. Its not that he hadn't tried. He had, multiple times. But the damn spells wouldn't work for him. And he had no clue as to why not. The wand, as reluctant as it seemed to work for him, had chosen him after all, in Ollivander's shop. Even if it wasn't the Gregorovitch wand that Harry had wanted.

That was the only reason that Harry had to persevere through the bullying, all the while showing that it didn't affect him in the least. In truth, he hated Snape more and more because of it. Of course, he had become a frequent visitor of the hospital wing.

When he wasn't covered in painful boils, his teeth grew astonishingly quickly and had to be reduced by Madam Pomfrey, his nails somehow vanished quite painfully. He still didn't know what jinx that was. He would be sure to learn it when he did discover it. Even if his damn magic wouldn't work.

The only good thing was the amount of practice Harry had gotten in brewing his own potions. From boil cures, to strengthening potion when someone spiked his morning juice with weakening potions; to hair regrowth potions to pepperup potions. The latter two, he had asked Madam Pomfrey advice for.

As it is, Harry couldn't eat with the house during most meals as they had adapted to Harry's strategy of coming in early and as such, there weren't places left for him anymore.

He had found a nice isolated alcove on the corner of the second floor, with a sort of lawn. It was only present from lunch to six in the evening every day. As such, it wasn't a reprieve Harry could use for dinner. Really, the only time he could eat in the Great Hall was at breakfast, mostly because he got earlier than anybody else in the House for his morning runs. Sometimes, even at five in the morning.

Perhaps the most shocking proof of his unequal and unfair treatment in the school was at the hands of Professor McGonagall, for reasons he couldn't quite fathom. Had she somehow discovered that he had been the one to explode dungbombs in the trophy room? Or how he had gotten Alexander into trouble when the boy thought he had caught Neville's remembral?

No. That wasn't it. Now that he thought about it, her attitude towards him had existed ever since he was sorted into Slytherin. It was almost like Snape's attitude was to Alexander. He supposed it balanced it out, but it still rankled him deeply.

When he answered questions, she would never him give him points, even though some of his answers were more detailed than Grangers, who just memorised passages from the books. But she every time got rewarded with points for Gryffindor. More than once, she had had the audacity to deduct points when his answers were too Slytherin. Whatever that meant.

He wasn't blind to her subtle glares either. Especially since they weren't subtle at all. But her attitude had grown worse ever since he had blasted his mother across the Charms classroom. Perhaps that was the reason. Perhaps, she had expected, and wanted him to be in Gryffindor and was simply jealous that he wasn't.

More than once, over the last two weeks she had, no doubt for some need to embarrass him, had asked why he didn't come to lunch or dinner, much to snickering of other students.

He rounded the corner towards his alcove when he heard the voices. He recognised them immediately. His wretched parents.

'Your plan isn't working, James,' his mother, sounding somewhat annoyed. 'Harry is still in Slytherin!'

They were talking about to him. As quietly as he could, like a snake, he slithered into his alcove, putting his ear to the door and listening.

'It's not my plan, Lily-flower,' James sounded somewhat sheepish. 'It was Dumbledore's and even Sirius and Remus think it was a good one.'

'To hell with them!' she yelled. There was a banging sound. He assumed she either hexed him or slap the wall. Both amused him. 'They don't know him nor does Dumbledore.'

Neither do you, Harry thought. But what was this plan.

'Look. It's going to be Halloween soon and we'll invite him to our house. Or maybe we could introduce him to Sirius. They would like each other,' his father offered.

Harry felt anger burning in him. That was supposed to be his house too. But they had made sure it wasn't.

'You said that if Slytherin continued treating him like they are, he would come to us soon enough,' Lily sounded somewhat broken. 'He still hasn't. What if he's talking to… her!'

James growled, obviously angry. 'NO! No son of mine will be associating with death eaters!'

'I don't want him to either. But if our plan is to work, we need him to see us as his family,' she said, sounding tired. 'We need to do something.'

'Ohhh! I know, I know!' his father seemed almost excited. 'You could mentor him! That would solve all our problems!'

Harry didn't know what that meant but he didn't get to listen to it anymore as they had obviously moved away. Harry waited for a while, to make sure they were really gone when he summoned Sookie and asked her for dinner at his usual spot.

With that, he snuck out of the alcove and made his way to the white tree island, which he had decided to call Gondor.

He usually met the same boomslang and sometimes even some of its friends looking for an easy meal. He still had the condition that they not eat in front of him. He didn't want to throw up any food that he ate just because some snake had decided to swallow an entire rat at once.

Once safely away from the perpetual spying eyes of the public, he willed his to go back to his usual raven colour. Colour and style that was so like James Potter, if a little darker that he hated it. He hated everything that linked him to his parents.

His hair, his glasses, his green eyes, even his name. Harry! What a pathetic muggle name. A small nap was warranted as he lay on the ground, with his head under the trees shade. He had already fed the raven chick and had given it to Sookie, who would wake him up when it was time for him to go back to the castle.

He sighed disappointedly. His magical education wasn't going the way he planned. And he didn't know what he could do to fix it. Harry was relatively sure that Lily would help him figure it out if he asked her, if only to get him closer to the family. But after that slap that was so much like Aunt Petunia's, he would be damned if he went to her for help. Not even if she was the last teacher on earth.

No. He would write to Ollivander and Mia. They could help, probably. As usual, he awoke much later, but made no hurry to walk back to the common room. In his wanderings about the castle, Harry had discovered quite a few secret passageways around the school.

Although, he hadn't yet managed to find one that would give a him a shortcut to the Astronomy Tower, which was just about the furthest thing from the Slytherin common. On his way to the common room, he heard some interesting gossip.

Apparently, Draco had followed up on the remembral fiasco and broken the damn thing, albeit by 'accident' against a wall, leaving a tear strained and crying Neville Longbottom. It had happened sometime after dinner.

As soon as the students gossiping about the remembral saw him, they were quick to shut up and send him several death glares. Harry rolled his eyes. They would never use sense. It was no use expecting such of them. However, the reason Draco did that, wasn't clear to Harry.

What he did know however was that Draco must have taken revenge for something. A Slytherin never lets a slight go unanswered. No matter how small. That, he had realised, was also why his reputation was in tatters in Slytherin. They considered him weak.

Oh, he would show them! He would show all of them that he is not be trifled with. As soon as he learnt the mystery to his inability to cast spells that is. Over the last month and a half, Harry had cultivated his reputation as one of the smartest students in first years, albeit not very magically gifted. Though that one wasn't his fault.

The common room wasn't very full, as most Slytherins were still out, and it was quite a while till curfew. Going to the dorm, he found his newest school robes pressed and displayed on his bed, ready for him to wear when he shed the ones he had slept in on Gondor.

Harry wondered if he should write to Narcissa's husband in the same letter he was planning to send to her. Hmm. He would have to think about that. Which would be more proper? Of course. He couldn't have Draco learning about it earlier than he wanted him to. That would be catastrophic.

Harry snuck into the library using the hidden passageway under the painting of Agrippa, accessed from the other end via the Slytherin common room, and hid in the farthest corner of the library, hoping that Madam Pince would forget about him being there. Just as a precaution though, he slid back into the passageway near ten when the incessant woman would scour every inch of the library.

After ten minutes of staying in the darkened passageway, he slid back out into the library, ecstatic that he had figured out a way to stay in the library after hours. Spending another or so completing his transfiguration essay on the mutare spell, and when he was sufficient that it should get at least Exceeds Expectations, he left the library on the way to the astronomy tower.

Of course, he would never get anything more than Acceptable in transfiguration, he had come to realise. Professor McGonagall seems to have something against his grades as well. Hell, even Draco, whose essay he had requested to read, had gotten EE, even though Harry's was much better. And Draco hated Transfiguration with a passion. Harry was beginning to see why.

As he made crossed the third floor, wondering if he should investigate what exactly is in that corridor that made Professor Potter so mad that Alex had been in there. It must either something dangerous or important. And could use it himself? If Alexander had made it there, then Harry was sure he could do it too.

Harry jumped the disappearing step on instinct, having either missed it many times, or more likely been hit with a tripping hex by someone just as he neared one of these maniacal steps, that he had learnt all their locations by heart.

It was only just after eleven when he made his way to the seventh floor, crossing the empty corridor with the dancing trolls painting, wondering just what the curious magic was on the wall opposite it. He was almost certain there was something behind this wall. It held the same feeling as many of the classrooms that sometime ceased to exist, the same feeling as his alcove.

'Can I talk to a Hogwarts elf, please?' he asked to no one in particular, feeling decidedly foolish. People would obviously think him a loon if they see him standing in an empty corridor, speaking to thin air.

But his gamble paid off. Instantly, an elf dressed in a brown cloth appeared before him, 'What can Snokey be doing for master?'

Harry wondered if all house elves had such odd names but immediately banished the thought for an immediate curiosity, 'Can you tell me how to get into this room?'

Snokey looked at him with what he thought was suspicion before she replied, 'How do yous knows there be a room here?'

'I heard someone mention it,' Harry replied without a pause. He did feel a little bad about lying to the poor thing but he didn't want to reveal such a closely kept secret. The last thing he needed was for the entire school to start thinking he was a complete nutter or that they were right and he is dark.

'Walk three times like this and think about what yous want in the room,' Snokey replied, bowed and then promptly disappeared before he could answer her.

That was good to know. He did what she told him, thinking how he wanted a place to practise his magic in secret. On the third try, a large double door appeared on the wall. Not hesitating at all, but keeping his wand out nonetheless – which was useless because he knew virtually no offensive magic – he entered the room.

What he found inside almost vanished the air from within his lungs. The large room, almost resembling the entrance hall, contained several bookcases, cushions, armoured knights, dummies depicting wizards holding out sticks like wands, even some spare wands on a shelf.

Harry instantly felt a burst of excitement. He knew he couldn't spend much time in here and that he should really leave early lest someone see him leaving here. He didn't know how this worked however. He needed to know what this place can and can't do.

But on a cursory look, he saw that the shelves had a few objects: metal globes with ugly eyes, magnifying glasses, an aerial shaped object that he had no idea about, and what looked like a glass spinning top.

The first bookshelf contained books such as Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions, the Dark-Arts Outsmarted, Self-Defensive Spellwork, Jinxes for the Jinxed. All of which would be quite useful in his revenge against the culprit Gryffindors and Slytherins who thought they could get away with bullying him.

He wasn't the same boy who kept running from Dudley's gang and their Harry hunting. He wasn't the tiny, scrawny, boy who hid in bushes scared of bullies.

If his housemates thought that they could keep bullying him and not pay for it, they would quickly realise their folly, Harry vowed to himself as he exited the brilliant room and made his way up the Astronomy Tower.

Harry hadn't realised how long he had stayed in the room, perusing and reading but it looked like he had spent almost forty minutes or so.

'Potter?!' he looked to his left and saw Draco leading the Slytherins towards the outside of the classroom.

Harry briefly registered how Pansy was as usual on his right side while a Daphne, who was slightly scowling at the former, was at his left. Yes, something definitely was up with the girl.

'Draco,' but as he focused on Draco, he didn't see the surprise look on Daphne's face at seeing him already present. The surprise that was clear in Draco's voice.

'Where were you?' the blonde boy questioned, either not aware or not caring about Harry's narrowed eyes at his inquisition. 'You weren't in the common room or the dorm when he left?'

'Oh, so you looked for me,' Harry smirked at the momentary flustered look on his face. 'I was wandering the castle when I lost track of time.' He found no need to lie at this particular moment, and besides he had been doing it frighteningly often these days and it was starting to worry him somewhat.

This time, however, he did see the shocked look on the girls' faces as Draco yelled, 'What?! Have you no Slytherin pride. You're going to get caught and cost us points! Points that I got us!'

Harry resisted the urge to snarl at the idiot. 'Don't worry. I have my ways to avoiding it.'

Before any of the rest could make their own feelings known about the topic, the familiar rush of footsteps made themselves known to them and the Gryffindors hurried, as usual almost late.

Like Draco who had the Slytherins, it was Alexander leading the Gryffindors. Since when had they been elected as defacto leaders of the group. A traitorous voice answered inside him that while he had been too afraid to take a stand in his own house. But he squashed it down.

Staying out of the way had served him well all this time.

'Harry…,' there was something of an apprehension in Alexander's voice but before Harry could answer, the door to class opened up and a voice called from the inside. 'Come in.'

The Slytherins entered first, even though Alexander had tried to go in but was quickly pushed aside by Draco, who ignored the boy's and Weasel's mutterings.

Harry shrugged. He was in no great hurry and so he let everyone else pass before him, entering the class at the end and one glance showed him that that the Slytherins, as usual had paired up and left no place for him.

After so many weeks of the same attitude, he didn't let in affect him and made his way to the lone empty desk at the back.

To his shock and many that of many others, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws soon entered as well and took their seats. The four columns, where each of the houses sat, surrounded a large circular dais. The in the middle of the dais, was a raised metal column with a metal ball on top.

The astronomy hall delved into whispers and discussion. They had all heard the voice call out to them but the Professor was nowhere to be seen. But that to Harry was nothing new. After all, Ollivander does the same trick.

It was the odd feeling he was getting. And while everyone frequently looked towards the middle as they conversed with each other, Harry was trying to pinpoint where the feeling was coming from. It was most certainly not dais or the column. He didn't know how he knew it but he did. So, he tried looking at the perimeters of the hall.

She stood there, unseen by all the first years of Hogwarts, as she observed all of them cascade in, delving into discussion and whispers. Some made their curiosity clear, looking towards the raised dais and column. One of her own creation that she had brought along with her when she got the job. She had enchanted it herself.

This was the first time she had gotten a closer look at the children of the different houses and she had to admit, she was curious. Curious as to why they insisted on segregating young impressionable children into groups and tell them what their traits were.

It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Tell a child they can't be anything but brave or cunning; bookworm or loyal and hardworking and that is what they will grow to be. So, it made no sense to her, even when she had been told of Hogwarts by her family. Granted, she and her family were all directly descended from one of the first students of this ancient school, she still thought the practice… outdated.

Yet, having observed them all two weeks ago at dinner when she had been hired, and having conversed with the hat, she could see the sense of the sorting. While no child only has traits of one house and is more than likely, a combination of one or more, it is ultimately where they will be comfortable, and what is beneficial for the students, where they are placed.

Yes, the Gryffindors were loud and boisterous and perhaps the most obvious to those less intelligent of observant than her, it was the Slytherins that stood out more. Especially if one looks over the loudness of the students in red and gold trimmed cloaks.

The Slytherins, cunning as they were, continuously looked over the other students calculatedly, making their own observations, just as she was. Some, however, like the gorillas sitting behind the Malfoy heir, looked like they shouldn't belong in the house of the cunning and the ambitious, but a closer look showed her that Mr. Crabbe embodied the traits of the house more than Mr. Goyle.

The way his eyes flickered between the unfortunate pug looking girl, to the sleek blonde girl sitting on either side of Mr. Malfoy and the way his face adapted a look of stupidity after his calculated gaze seeks his target, showed her he belonged in that house after all.

The bushy haired Gryffindor on the other, she thought, should have belonged to Ravenclaw. Even now, the girl lectured those sitting near her on random facts she learnt about the Astronomy Tower from Hogwarts: A History.

According to the teachers, she was one of, if not the smartest student in first year, maybe even second year. The girls sitting near her however, the Indian looking girl, and the blonde girl who looked to be developing quicker for her age, seemed to not care about a thing their house mate said.

Both of those girls looked to be joined by their heads as they looked over the more attractive boys of all houses and seemed to be giggle every few seconds.

According to the resident Potion's Master however, the house of lions was a bunch of dunderheads who were more interested in quidditch and girls than studying. That, brought her gaze to the resident celebrity of the school.

Alexander Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Who hasn't heard of him? The only person, ever, in history, to have survived the Killing Curse. With no one knowing how.

Of course, two days after she was hired, she had attended the first staff meeting of the year, to discuss the students' progress and what their opinions were on the first years. She had of course, subtly asked his mother, the part time, Charms Professor, about it.

And the answer was as she expected. No one, from the magical core specialists in Istanbul to the Shamans in China or the experts – she scoffed at the thought - in the States, could find anything conclusive about the boy's powers and how he defeated the Dark Lord.

But as it happened, according to Minerva, the boy was good with transfiguration, the best in her class along with Granger. His best friend, the youngest Weasley however, was nothing remarkable. As it was, he was thoroughly unremarkable, according to Severus Snape. But she didn't take either of their opinions on board. She much preferred to make her own observations.

And therefore, the first test, to see their abilities in magic. She would have much preferred to teach something with a greater involvement of active magic, like Charms or Defence Against the Dark Arts but since this was the only opening, she had to take it.

And lo and behold. Only one person, in the entire hall, even realised that something odd was going on. The quiet boy at the back. According to all teachers, he was quite good with theory but ever since they had started practicing magic, his performance had gone down the drain. He was barely above Longbottom, who was hopeless with magic it seems.

According to Madam Pomfrey, the boy's Myrridian Index was barely above Longbottom's. Perhaps that was why he was so sensitive to the magical pulse she let out. But what use is being sensitive to magic when he could barely use it. Such a shame, she thought.

She was pleasantly surprised when the boy, after much looking around the room, locked his eyes on the exact spot where was she was standing, invisible.

Harry frowned. Something was definitely wrong with this hall. He didn't remember feeling like this the first time they came here, a month and a half ago. This time, he could swear he felt it. Like a wave. But a short one. And it was coming from the right-hand corner on the other side of the room.

He wasn't the only surprised, though for a different reason, when the teacher immediately appeared, as if from thin air, in the dais, near the column.

His first thought – horrifying as it was – was that she was gorgeous and looked to be in her late twenties, with beautiful olive skin, long, curly, dark hair, and big, brown eyes. She wore a flowing, long, sleeveless, maroon dress with sandals.

In short, she dressed as none of the Professors in the school. He couldn't help but compare her to his 'mother' wearing jeans and shirt. Like a muggle, he thought disgusted.

Harry didn't notice, but he was far from the only boy transfixed with the new Professor's beauty.

'Welcome, all,' she said, looking around at the new students. 'Your new Astronomy Professor, I am. Professor Cassia, you can call me.'

What an odd way of speaking. Though, not grammatically incorrect. He pushed those silly thoughts out of his head and focused his attention on her, as she explained how the classes would be held.

'Since there are seven years, hold classes for all houses together for each year, I will,' the woman, Cassia said.

It took a few seconds for Harry to translate that into normal speech in his head. It might have been his imagination, but she focused more on the Slytherins when she said her next words, 'Reported everything about me to your fathers and uncles, will be, aware of that, I am. To save you the trouble of gathering information, give you permission to ask questions about me in this first lesson, I do. Go on.'

Harry resisted the urge to chuckle at her calling out what the Slytherins most likely intended to do. She was hired yes, but right now, she was an unknown and as such, most pureblood houses would be wanting to know about her.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Granger's hand shot up in the air and the Professor called on her, 'Ms. Granger.'

Now that was surprising. She already knew the names. Was she debriefed on them all?

'Where are you from, Professor?' Granger asked, curiosity shining in her eyes. Harry had to admit, it was one he too wanted to know. All of the teachers here were English, yet she clearly was not.

'From Greece,' was her short reply.

Tracey then asked, 'What's your full name, Professor?'

Another way to ask if she was a pureblood or not. And the Professor caught onto that as well, if the slight narrowing of her eyes was anything to go by.

The Professor smirked, and curtseyed to the room at large, 'Qetsiyah of House LeFay.'

Harry didn't recognise the house but clearly many of the purebloods did. As did most Slytherins. Draco's head snapped up from his previous disinterested look with a sharp gasp. What was so special?

'I thought that line ended,' Draco said, somewhat insensitively. Harry frowned at the boy's rudeness. Daphne must have thought so too as she subtly nudged him with her elbow.

'It was not. Tried to end our family, Voldemort…,' she ignored the many gasps in the room and went on, 'And his scum, did. And failed.'

Harry was quickly growing to like her, just as most Slytherins adopted guarded looks. They clearly didn't.

Alexander adopted a look of admiration and shot a somewhat smug look towards Malfoy who scowled in response to her answer.

Granger, being ever ignorant of pureblood customs asked, 'So, you're a pureblood?'

'Pureblood, I am,' the Professor answered somewhat proudly.

Well, that was at least one, he supposed. Of all the teachers, he thought, only Professor Vector was a pureblood.

'When were you born?' asked Susan Bones, the somewhat pudgy redhead girl in Hufflepuff.

'Samhain of 1968,' Professor Cassia answered, smiling at the shocked look of Susan.

Harry smirked at the answer. Clearly this witch was one who took pride in her heritage and didn't adopt the foolish muggle customs of Halloween.

Which begs the question, how did Dumbledore hire her?

More questions, about her personal life, her favourite colour, her favourite food or candy, or if she had a boyfriend or not, were asked.

It was Alexander who asked the question. Harry noted that many girls scowled at the boy. Why was it so bad? He didn't understand?

Seemed like a perfectly logical question to him.

'No, I do not, Mr. Potter,' she answered, smiling sweetly at him, much to many of the girl's frowning. Harry thought Alexander was foolish to grin like an idiot. It's not like he would ever have a chance. And just like that, she destroyed Alexander's dreams which were just beginning to form, no doubt, making Harry like her even more. 'But betrothed, I am.'

Betrothed? Now that was shocking. He didn't know much about pureblood tradition but the practice of marriage contracts was an old one. It wasn't practiced by many families in England anymore. Not since Grindelwald's war.

So, her family was likely an old one. He wasn't the only one to come to that conclusion. Granger for some reason frowned at that answer.

'Where did you go to Hogwarts too, Professor?' Granger asked and he could see many of the others were interested as well.

'To Durmstrang Institute of Magic, I went,' Cassia answered. 'One of Europe's finest magical schools, it is.'

Now that got Harry's and Draco's attention. Durmstrang was where Grindelwald went as well. And that was where Draco wanted to go too. But Narcissa stopped him, not wanting him to live too far away. He remembered Draco telling that to them on the first night at the welcoming feast.

Granger immediately made a note of it on her muggle notebook. Harry rolled his eyes at the stupidity of such a smart girl. And she wonders why people didn't like muggleborns. That action didn't go unnoticed by the Professor either.

That immediately put a scowl on both Alexander's and Weasley's face, both of whom were leering at the new teacher. Disgusting bigots, Harry thought.

But what she said next, brought everyone's attention to her. Even those who were disinterested at first. 'A year's study at Durmstrang, to one of you, who manages to impress me, is what I offer. Let us begin.'

With that, the Grecian beauty flicked her hand and shut the door, shocking them all with the casual display of wandless magic. That, they might have chalked up to coincidence, but when she waved her hand again and dimmed every single lantern and light in the hall, they knew she was not one to messed up.

Harry grinned. Now she was one teacher who he would whole heatedly respect and follow. A week into Hogwarts, he had searched the entire Hogwarts curriculum to find out if they were ever taught wandless magic and there was not one mention of it.

Even dating as far back as five hundred years ago, when Hogwarts had a plethora of arcane courses, such as necromancy, they didn't have one on wandless magic. Now, more than ever, he was determined to impress her. But he could see, he wasn't the only one.

By the end of the two hours, Harry's head was swimming with information that the Professor seemingly effortlessly linked with history, with seers and divination and with other branches of magic such as Herbology and Potions, even spellwork.

He had to research on her background. There was no way a young woman as knowledgeable as her, on various aspects of magic, could have stayed away from the limelight, or the attention of her own ministry or even the dark lord.

Cassia explained how different alignments of planets affected certain spells. What alignments were significant in magic and history, and which ones affected which potions, giving examples of each. She even hinted at various rituals which were significantly affected by the movement of the planets.

That of course, elicited a plethora of questions about dark magic, especially from Gryffindor, which she answered as diplomatically as possible. There was no question in Harry's mind that she was indeed his favourite teacher, as everyone exited the astronomy hall and he stayed behind.

He could see his fellow housemates, looked at him suspiciously, but left the room nonetheless. He had no doubt they would be outside the door, listening for any useful information.

'A question you have, Mr. Potter?' she asked, smiling at him as she waved her hand and the door closed itself.

'Yes,' Harry replied, looking towards the closed door for a second. He didn't want others to know what he was asking.

She seemed to understand his predicament and answered, 'Worry not. Warded against eavesdropping it is.'

'Right,' Harry said, wondering how to word his request. She sat there, crossing one leg over the other and looked at him patiently, seemingly in no hurry. Deciding to abandon all subtlety, he asked, 'I request for you to take me as your mentee, Professor.'

She raised one dark eyebrow at him, and looked at him curiously. Her eyes seemingly boring into him. 'Heard of you I did, before coming here. How, do you know?'

Harry shook his head, confusedly. What has that got to do with anything. She must have. It was all splashed on the Daily Prophet. Brother of the Daily Prophet, sorted in Slytherin.

The Professor chuckled, 'No. Not from your rag of a newspaper.'

Harry spluttered despite all his efforts to not do so, 'What? Did you just…'

She smiled, 'Your mind is quite unprotected. Practically yelling, your thoughts, you are.'

That was not a comforting thought. He cursed himself for lacking in his occlumency exercises. 'The books Gregorovitch gave you, good they are. But not sufficient.'

Harry's eyes widened, his mouth gaping for a second. 'How did you know Professor?'

'To Gregorovitch's son, betrothed I am. Told me, he did,' she smirked at him. 'But disappointed in you, I am.'

'How? Why?' Harry demanded. This was not going the way he planned. Yes, she was meant to name her price but how had he disappointed her. He barely knew her.

'Ambition you have, yes. But work hard, you do not,' she replied bluntly, seemingly not caring about him bristling. 'In the lower quarter of your class, in charms and transfiguration you are. Near the top, your brother is. As is Ms. Granger.'

Harry bristled at the blunt revelation of his weakness. It was his sore spot. It wasn't his fault his magic failed to work most of time. What was he to do? And she was here, judging him and staring at him, like a hawk does its prey.

'I will…,' he tried to speak but was cut off as she rose.

'Fond of wasting my time, on incompetents, I am not,' she said striding towards the door. The message was clear. 'Waste your time worrying about house politics, you do. On practising and studying magic, not enough time, you spend.'

She opened the door, waiting for him to leave. Harry glared at the offensive door. No, he would not leave before he got what he wanted. 'I will work hard. Just tell me what you want me to do. Give me a chance to prove myself!'

Cassia narrowed her eyes at him, studying him like a puzzle.

'Please!' Harry hated begging but he also knew that she was the only one who could help him. He didn't know how, but he just knew.

She sighed. 'Once chance, you will get,' she then walked to her desk, grabbed a parchment and quill and scribbled something on it. 'In two weeks, a test you will have,' she handed him the parchment. 'Only one.'

With that, she ushered him out of the hall, leaving him in the darkened corridor. Harry looked down on the parchment. It only said two words, 'Reductor Curse.'

The first years weren't the only ones enamoured with the knowledgeable, gorgeous witch who now taught Astronomy. Multiple times, he had overheard the frankly quite rude thoughts of the older boys or how they girls were angry that their boyfriends leered at Professor LeFay.

According to Draco, apparently Qetsiyah LeFay was the only one came to close to breaking Grindelwald's record in Durmstrang. He didn't understand the grading system Draco only touched upon, but apparently, she was one of the smartest, most powerful students, to ever graduate from the prestigious school that focuses on martial magic.

That was also the reason that he desperately wanted her to be his mentor. He knew Snape would never, in a million years take him as his mentee nor would any of the older students in Slytherin.

Before she had made herself visible in the astronomy class, he had heard many of the students, not just Slytherins discussing the new mentor scheme that the staff were bringing to Hogwarts. Of course, no one had thought to inform him. Or maybe had just missed the meeting when he was sleeping on his island. Who knows?

Either way, the mentor scheme was just as it says. Every younger student would have an older student as mentor. Who gets whom, is dependent upon the mentor and mentee. It didn't have to be in their house either. A Slytherin could have a Ravenclaw as a mentor if both parties agree or any combination of houses.

Of course, obviously, the Slytherins were only choosing their mentors and mentee from within their own house. Whether this was because the other houses didn't want them, or because they only felt comfortable with fellow Slytherins, Harry didn't know. But he suspected it was the former.

The mentor would not only show them the ropes, but also help them in homework, essays, magic in general, or just lend a listening ear.

It went unsaid, that no one chose him as their mentee. Just as he had expected. They weren't even talking to him, most of the time, unless Blaise and Tracey sometimes made small talk counted. And he had given up hoping or trying.

Cassia was right, he realised, disgusted with himself. He had gotten so caught up in Slytherin's inhouse politics, or the competition or whatever he had with his brother, and what the rest of the school thought of him, that he had been slacking off in his studies.

That night, he had stewed and cursed her for this insult. But then, when he had calmed down, he took out all of his essays from September till two days ago, and it showed a disturbing pattern.

The first three weeks his grades had been solid, in all of the subjects except History of Magic, getting EE at least. He had even gotten Outstanding in one charms' essay and one potions essay. But from the fourth week, ever since they had started practical magic, his grades had steadily declined.

Of course, he wasn't oblivious to the fact before two nights ago, but he had thought it wasn't too bad. Still, he had asked Professor Flitwick, and Professor McGonagall for help and both had turned him down.

Flitwick claimed that if he was having problems, he should go to his mother who was teaching the Slytherins for the first time. Professor McGonagall had only told him to pay more attention in class, not be bogged down in jealousy to his brother and focus on the basics. What a load of bullshit!

Yes, he hated the fact that Alexander was better than him in both Charms and Transfiguration and likely in Defence as well. He didn't know that his jealousy was so obvious. But what in the hell was he supposed to do when his magic was so temperamental?

And that insufferable Granger, sending him smug looks every time in Charms when she did something he failed to do.

What could he do when he could lock and open a door but not levitate a bloody feather? How could his magic duplicate a remembral, albeit temporarily, but not turn a damn matchstick into a needle? It made no sense, and yet, that was his dilemma.

Just as he stewing on this dilemma, making notes on the Reductor Curse, from Standard Book of Spells, Grade four, he had found from the library, there was another meeting going on between Lily and James Potter near the oak tree on the grounds.

'James, he hasn't come to me, yet!' Lily said exasperatedly, pacing up and down in front of the tree, wearing the grass down.

'Are you sure Snivellus did what you asked him to?' James asked him wife, immediately flinching at the glare she sent him.

'Yes. Severus,' she emphasised, 'Told me he had talked to the older Slytherins. Only as a favour to me, even if he didn't agree with it.'

'Then it should only be a matter of time before he comes to you. But I still don't like it,' James grumbled. 'Our plan isn't working out.'

'My plan?!' his wife yelled, glad that there was a silencing charm on the area. 'MY plan!'

'Not yours. Mine and Albus' plan. We thought he would have changed his mind about Slytherin once he realised what a bunch of assholes they were and how the school hated him being a Slytherin! And he would ask to be in Gryffindor by now,' James said morosely, snatching the snitch out of the year and letting it go just as was his habit in school.

'Well that worked out brilliantly,' Lily answered sarcastically. 'Maybe… maybe if I… apologise…'

'No. You didn't do anything wrong!' James said, wide eyed. 'He's the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived! He can't talk to the Malfoys! We have a reputation to maintain.'

Lily grumbled, not knowing what to do anymore. They had thought when no one takes him as their mentor, and with his obvious troubles in magic, he would come to her for help. And then, they would subtly get him away from the other pureblood Slytherins and maybe introduce him to Alex's friends. That would have worked out well. What boy didn't want to have friends? Harry had no friends, she could see. But more troubling was the fact that even if he made potential friends, it was bound to be from Slytherins.

'What if he becomes a threat to Alex?' James said, and Lily sighed exasperatedly. They had had this discussion at least ten times.

'I told you, he can't,' Lily answered, her patience wearing thin. 'He can barely levitate a feather, James and he's in the lower quarter in both charms and transfiguration when Alex is first in Transfiguration and fourth in Charms!'

James nodded, conceding to her point. But what if, later, he becomes one. That was why it was essential that he ask to be Lily's mentee and be transferred into Gryffindor.

With that resolve, they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner, where undoubtedly, they would see that Slytherin wouldn't welcome Harry, again. It was only a matter of time before this shunning forced Harry into Gryffindor. All was well, he consoled himself.

Harry was making his way to his alcove as usual, when he bumped into quite literally with a girl, he had met two weeks ago. Or she bumped into him, nearly forcing them both on the ground.

'Wotcher, Harry!' she said brightly, her hair a bright shade of bubblegum pink. 'Got your hair back to normal, I see.'

'Hello, Nym…' he trailed off, seeing her dark glare, 'Tonks. Well, normal is relative, I think. But yes, back to the raven's nest.'

She laughed out loud, swinging an arm around his shoulders, 'I totally agree. Not that I don't like weird hairstyles, but your messy is hair is just awful.'

Harry slumped his shoulders, sadly. 'Another negative about being a Potter.'

Tonks, he had learnt was quite a blunt girl. She was a seventh year Hufflepuff who was brilliant at Transfiguration, or so he heard from the older Slytherins.

'So, where're you going?' she asked curiously, 'Dinner is that way,' she pointed towards the Great Hall.

'Uh, yes. You go ahead, I'll catch up,' he replied, not wanting her to know how pathetic he was that he had to hide and eat alone.

'No, you won't,' she replied, and seeing his questioning gaze, she added, 'I'm not the only one whose noticed you don't show up at meals anymore.'

Harry sighed. 'I eat alone. It's much easier that way.'

'That's just awful, Harry,' Tonks said, 'Come, sit with me on the Hufflepuff table.'

Unable to get the horrified look off his face, Harry replied, 'No, no. Tonks, thanks but umm.'

'What, is there something wrong with Hufflepuff?' Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow, her hands on her hips.

'No, not at all,' Harry wracked his brain for an excuse. 'It's just that I don't want to give the Slytherins any reason to think I've caved in.'

She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously not buying his lie but relented nonetheless. 'Fine. Let's go.'

'Umm. Okay…,' Harry said, and uncertainly followed the older girl towards the dungeons, getting more confused by the minute as they passed the entrance hall and turned right and downstairs.

They appeared in what he thought was the basement corridor, brightly lit and decorated with food paintings. He could clearly smell the delicious smells of dinner coming from somewhere nearby.

Tonks stopped in front of a painting of a fruit bowl and tickled the pear, which giggled and turned into a large green door handle. Tonks turned and pushed it open. 'Welcome to the Kitchens, Harry!'

Harry entered, mind boggled into the hall as large as the Great Hall, with four tables exactly where the house tables were, filled with what he thought were hundred of elves. Mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls and there was a great fireplace at the end.

Instantly, Harry was greeted by an enthusiastic Sookie. 'Master Harry has come to visit Sookie!'

Tonks looked curiously at him, clearly amused by the elf, 'Yes Sookie. Meet my friend, Tonks.'

Sookie immediately shook Tonks hand, eyes wide, 'Sookie be pleased to meet Master Harry's friend. Will Master and yous be wanting food?'

Harry nodded and said they wanted lunch. Immediately, the elf ushered them towards the nearest table, and like in the Great Hall, food instantly appeared in front of them. They both thanked Sookie and dived into their food.

Conversation was good as Tonks asked about Harry's classes and how he was finding Hogwarts in general and Harry asked about her quidditch, NEWTS and her family. Her mother, he had learnt two weeks ago, from the Daily Prophet, had filed for divorce from her father.

And weirdly, for some reason, Tonks was happy about it. And seeing it was quite a personal thing, he hadn't asked any further questions.

'So, how did you change your hair back?' Tonks asked, changing the subject for quidditch.

'Ummm. Just… a spell,' Harry answered vaguely. He didn't know what she would think about it.

'What spell? I know for a fact that 'finite' doesn't work on the twins' pranks,' she looked at him with that look she gets when she knows he's withholding something.

Cursing internally, he sighed. He had been hoping she didn't know that. 'What is it?' she asked. 'It can't be that bad? It was only a prank.'

Harry gulped, 'Okay. I want your word you won't disclose this information,' looking at her for any signs of deception.

'I swear,' she said, eyes locked onto him.

Harry picked up an empty shiny plate and looked at his reflection and focused on his hair. He had to concentrate a lot and for a couple of minutes but soon, it obeyed his will.

There was sharp gasp from the girl opposite him, looking at him with eyes wide. Great. She would think him a freak as well. The one friend he had managed to form. Then, much to his confusion, a grin stretched on her face, from ear to ear.

'Amazing,' she whispered and just like that, her hair changed colours from pink to the same as his dark green. 'You're a metaphor, like me! What else can you do?'. She scooted forwards excitedly.

'A metamorph?' Harry questioned, confused. 'That was the first time he had heard of it.'

'It's short for metamorphmagus, Harry,' she said exasperatedly. 'How did you not know that's what we are? It means that we can change our appearance at will.'

Ah. Harry already knew he could do that. 'But how do you become one?'

'You can't become one, Harry,' she said smiled. 'You need to be born one. It's incredibly rare! Of course, not as rare parseltongue or elementals but still very rare!'

Harry held his tongue about the parseltongue but he quickly forgot it in Tonks enthusiasm, 'That's great! Can you teach me, please?!'

'Well of course. You're the first one I've met other than me of course,' Tonks said and quickly rattled off all the books she had tried reading to work on her ability. 'But Harry, it's odd that you are one…'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked. He knew he was weird, and had been for a long time.

'Well… the Potters have never had Metamorphmagus in their bloodlines. It's normally a…. of course! It all makes sense now!', she exclaimed.

Harry had no idea what she had just realised. 'So, specific abilities are in specific bloodlines?'

'Well, yes of course. There are some that randomly come up in a few centuries but generally speaking, abilities such as these stay within the families. That is one of the reasons why purebloods are so insistent on keeping their bloodlines pure. There is some evidence that mixing of muggle blood with pureblood stops these abilities from expressing,' she replied, still looking at him as if he was a puzzle.

'But, then, how did I get it?' Harry asked, confused. 'I am a half-blood.'

'So am I,' she replied. But for a second, he thought he saw a shadow in her eyes but he must have imagined it. 'My mother was born a Black, although she was disowned when she married my father. And your grandmother was a Black as well. My mother's aunt Dorea. Neither of them had the ability but the Blacks have produced Metamorphs before, my mother told me.'

'And what about parseltongue, and the other one you said… elementals?' Harry asked curiously. Did that mean that parseltongue was a Potter ability or Blacks.

'Well those are more complicated and even rarer. The last known parselmouth was obviously You-Know-Who. They're said to be descended from Salazar Slytherin but he couldn't have been the only one who spoke it, since we know that Herpo the Foul was a parselmouth as well. It's a fairly useless one, honestly,' she replied, seemingly thinking something over.

'And elementals,' Harry asked, never having heard of them either.

'Now that is more interesting. Elementals were known to have unnatural control over one element. Either fire, water, earth or air. There isn't much known about them or how they control their magic but maybe you should ask Professor LeFay,' Tonks replied. 'I don't know much about them honestly.'

'Why her?' Harry asked. 'Why would she know?'

'Do you know who she is, Harry?' Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow.

'No. Just a pureblood,' he replied, not wanting to sound too much of an idiot.

She laughed, 'Oh boy. You are so wrong. There was a reason that You-Know-Who tried to kill all the LeFays. But I won't tell you everything. You need to find out something on your own afterward.'

Harry groaned at the unfairness and badgered her some more as they left the kitchen and towards the Great Hall. But she steadfastly refused, and left, but not before promising to help him with his metamorph abilities.

Having changed his hair back to black, Harry strode into the Great Hall, dinner having winded up and the students starting to leave. It was time to get his plan into action.

'Mother. What are you doing here?' he heard Draco ask, clearly surprised, as was Harry.

Turning towards the Slytherin table, he saw Narcissa Malfoy, in an expensive looking black dress, striding regally up to her son. 'Draco, how are you, darling,' she hugged her son, much to his embarrassment as he tried to get out of immediately, much to the snickering of the Slytherins and nearby Hufflepuffs.

'I came by for a meeting of the board of governors and thought I should bring you and your friends some sweets,' Narcissa replied, handing over a decent sized box, much like the ones she regularly mails over to her son.

'Thanks, Mother,' Draco replied, immediately opening the box.

And to Harry's great surprise, Narcissa turned to him. 'Harry, how are you?'

He heard the gasps from several students, mostly Slytherins even some of the staff members. What was she planning? Surely, she would have some scheme. She never called him Harry. Why do it in public?

From the corner of his eyes, he could see his parents rising and the Slytherins looking at him as if he had grown a second head.

Walking confidently up to her, 'Mrs. Malfoy,' he took her slightly outstretched hand, bowed and kissed the gloved knuckles. 'I am very well. How are you?'

'Fabulous, darling,' she replied, and he managed to keep his suspicion out of his countenance. 'And I thought I told you before to call me Aunt Cissa. We are family, after all.'

Harry nodded. She had asked him that. 'Aunt Cissa,' Harry nodded, letting go of her hand. 'I must say, you look beautiful.'

Harry had read in the traditions book to complement women when meeting them, but in this case, it was true. She looked resplendent. But then, with a startle, he realised, he recognised this dress. Hoping beyond hope, she would say nothing about it. He couldn't stand the embarrassment.

Narcissa laughed, 'As beautiful as darling Daffodil?' she asked with a smirk, making people look from her to Daphne. Harry coughed, very much aware of Daphne's death glare from the corner of his eye and his precarious position. 'More, I admit.'

'What a flatterer,' she said, smirk never leaving her face.

Just then they were joined by his parents, although the headmaster and deputy headmistress, both of whose eyes were trained on them stayed on the head table.

Harry realised this could get very ugly very quickly, remembering the debacle at the train station. He wracked his brain to think of any excuse to divert the impending disaster.

'Narcissa,' James Potter all but growled at the woman, just as Lily slipped her hand in his, trying to keep him calm, no doubt. Her eyes however, looked from Harry to the woman she had forbidden him to speak to, two weeks ago.

'Lord Potter,' Narcissa drawled, very much like her son. 'Or should I say, Mr. Potter.'

He could see James bristle in anger at that comment but unable to reply. Harry looked on in amazement. How had she done that?

'Now tell me, Harry. How are you finding Slytherin,' she asked, very clearly aware of the eyes many had locked onto the pair, including the gaping mouth of her son. 'Settling in all right?'

From the corner of his eyes, he could see James Potter sizzling in anger, just as Lily Potter held him down. This should be interesting.

'I couldn't have asked for a better house, nor one that complements my personality so well,' Harry answered, well aware that Draco would have told her how he was doing in the house. But he would be damned if he made a fool of himself in public, just like it was no doubt her plan that his father does.

'Oh please!' James forcefully removed his hand from his wife's. 'The slimy snakes don't even let you sit with them and when you do sit here, no one sits with you!', he snapped.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the blunt truth, well aware that Narcissa was looking at him. From behind James and Lily, he saw Professor McGonagall striding up to them quickly. 'Yes. Only because they know how I prefer to eat alone and they respect it. Something I doubt you would know anything about.'

Harry didn't see the shocked looks of the Slytherins or the surprised looks of the others at his brazen, outright lie. But they couldn't object to it since they had no proof. The Slytherins might very well respect his need for privacy. Never had he thanked Slytherins need to keep secrets in the house, so much.

'Harry, I must thank you for this lovely dress,' Narcissa changed the subject to an even more uncomfortable one and he swore she was finding this enjoyable. 'And commend you on your taste, but you did not have to spend so much money, darling.'

James spluttered incoherently, looking at his son like he had asked for his kidney while Lily and Professor McGonagall looked on in surprise.

He didn't see Pansy or any of the other girls in Slytherins looking at him in surprise, as if they didn't know who he even was.

Harry refused to show weakness. He hated politicking and that was not why he had bought her the dress. But if she wanted to test him, fine. He would play. Slapping on a charming smile, 'Well, I wanted to thank you for all your help that day in Twilfitt and Tattings and reintroducing me to our world.'

There was a flash of something in her eyes. Something… mischievous. He had seen the same look in Tonks' eyes when she wanted to tease him and it didn't bode well for him. 'Nonsense, darling. It was a travesty that you were forced to live with muggles, I simply had to correct it. Just like Aunt Dorea would have wanted me to,' she said the last bit looking at his father.

'What?!' James spluttered even more as both the other women's eyes flashed dangerously.

'And I bought you a gift,' Narcissa continued, shocking the others even more. Harry was thoroughly enjoying it.

'A gift? Aunt Cissa, you needn't have,' Harry replied, and this time truthfully. She had already given me too much. 'You've already given me Sookie.'

She shook her head, 'Nonsense. That wasn't a gift, darling. You bought the elf. I've got a gift for your sorting just like Draco. Being in Slytherin is a big deal.' She handed him a wrapped thin package, and a rolled parchment, with a seal of DMLE on it, which James immediately recognised.

'May I ask what it is?' Harry said, not wanting to open it up here in front of everyone and keeping it away from his glaring father.

'It's an Auror grade, self-summoning, wand holster,' Narcissa said haughtily.

'That's illegal!' James snapped. 'You can't give him that!', he tried to take it away from Harry only for him to put it out of his father's reach. 'Even Alexander doesn't have it!' James pointed to his son on the Gryffindor table who was also, like his father, fuming, quite visibly.

'Along with a license signed by Rufus Scrimgeour, your boss. In the name of one Hadrian James Potter,' she added smugly. 'So, you see, it is not illegal anymore.'

Harry smirked at his father's nostrils flaring. He had to admit, Narcissa Malfoy was the embodiment of all that was Slytherin. It was a wonder how her son was such an idiot. 'Thank you, Aunt Cissy.'

'Don't mention it, Harry,' she replied, 'Think of it as a late birthday gift.'

'Hem hem…,' Professor McGonagall coughed. 'Narcissa, don't we have a meeting to get to?'

'Yes, quite right Minerva. It should be starting soon,' Narcissa replied, and much to the shock of everyone else witnessing the momentous event, she placed her hand in the crook of Harry's elbow, 'Harry will escort me there, won't you.'

'Certainly,' he replied. This dovetailed quite nicely into what he had planned. 'It would be my pleasure.'

'You will not!' James snapped at him, only get a raised eyebrow from his son and Narcissa.

'Harry…' his mother said. Why, he had no idea.

'I must object, Mr. Potter. Students are not allowed in the meeting of the board of governors,' Professor McGonagall said, looking at Harry disappointedly.

Narcissa said, 'In this case, Minerva, he is. Seeing as this meeting was called precisely because Harry here requested it. It seems he has a proposal for the board, one which I am quite anxious to hear.'

All three adults looked at him in shock as did the other students. No student had ever had the gall to call a meeting of the board of governors.

'You did?' James asked, looking from his son to Narcissa Malfoy.

'Yes, now if you excuse, we ought not to be late,' Harry replied, walking towards the other end of the Great Hall, with Narcissa Malfoy on his arm - however weird the sight looked – ignoring all eyes on them, no matter how hard his heart was beating.

Five minutes later, following behind Professor McGonagall, they came to up an antechamber, with a large mahogany table in the middle in front of exquisite hearth, with several members already seated.

Harry may know the names of the thirteen governors, as he had memorised the list provided by Narcissa earlier, but he didn't know the faces of all of them. Trying to ignore his sweaty palms, and keeping his face as straight as possible, he pulled out the chair for Narcissa, much to her pleasure and the others' surprise.

Impressions were important. Especially to old purebloods. Seeing as they were all there, Harry gave one short bow to the table at large, and then took his seat.

'Well then, since we're all here, I, Griselda Marchbanks, call this first meeting of the academic Year 1991 – 1992 of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to order,' said an ancient looking witch, with great wrinkly skin, wearing what looked like a fur coat.

As Harry had expected, the meeting began with the various issues of the school, lack of funding, school quidditch brooms, prefects chosen etc and how much each family was giving to the Orphan fund this year.

After what seemed like an hour, attention turned to him. 'Mr. Potter,' said the witch he had seen with Neville on the train station. He cursed himself for his part in the remembral fiasco. 'I gather you have something to say to the board.'

All eyes, mostly ancient, turned towards him as he stood, 'Yes, Madam Longbottom,' Harry replied, keeping his head eye and refusing to show weakness at the scrutiny of the governors. 'I am aware of the hard work that must go into maintaining this school and its standard as the best magical school in Europe. But I hoped to raise the issue of inadequate teachers that are being hired in the past few years. I do not like to point it out, but for the students and their families to pay so much, and then be short-changed in two major subjects, is not only a travesty but is also unfair.'

He could see various governors bristled at his truthful assessment, especially Professor McGonagall. 'What substandard teachers, Mr. Potter. Perhaps, the problem is in you and not the teachers? Have you thought of that?'

Harry refused to fall for the trap. 'Indeed, I have. And yes, my grades haven't been the best this year. But I speak not only of myself, but of the majority of the school. Here,' he handed a parchment to Narcissa, 'You will find signatures and names of many of the older students, particularly those in OWL and NEWT years who also agree with me of the inadequacy of the Defence Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic teachers.'

Narcissa copied the parchment and with a flick of her wand, sent one copy to each governor.

'Here,' Harry gave her another parchment, 'is a compiled list of grades of OWLs and NEWTs from 1950s to 1970s when Professor Binns taught. And from 1970s to now, a list of the grades of Defence and History of Magic. This clearly shows a decline in the number of OWLS of Acceptable and EE or above, by 40% since the 1950s. This was compiled from both Hogwarts Library and the public record from Ministry of Magic.'

He could see that this was indeed shocking to the governors as they perused the two revelations.

'And even if we ignore this startling decline, we cannot ignore the serious issue of the young wizarding population not knowing any of our recent history, the wizarding wars and their causes, from Grindelwald to Voldemort.

Or knowing our own history as magicals, our conflicts with muggles before the Statute of Secrecy, or even the reasons of Statute of Secrecy to come into place. Or why he must not forget our roots, our heritage, our traditions or customs. Why the Sacred-Twenty insist of keeping their bloodline pure? Or who even the sacred-twenty-eight are?'

Harry gave yet another parchment to Narcissa, which was also copied and distributed, 'I took the liberty of asking the school's population several short questions.' In this he lied a little. In truth, he had done some, Tonks and her friends helped with the upper years and his secret alliance with a Slytherin and Gryffindor fifth year helped him too.

'The first question was about Samhain. What it was? Why is it celebrated and its history? In Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, 80% had no idea, nor did they wish to find out. Of those 80%, 55% were half-bloods or had at least one, muggle or muggle-born parent, 20% were muggleborn and 5% were purebloods.

In Ravenclaw, 50% had no idea but all were willing to learn, 40% were half-bloods and 10% muggleborn. The only house which came out smelling like roses, across all questions about wizarding heritage, customs, and history, was Slytherin. About Samhain, as an example, 90% knew what is was and its history. 5% knew what it was but not the history and 5% didn't know.'

He didn't need to see their faces to see how shocked they were. It was clear from their gasps or winces, as he relayed results from their own Hogwarts house or where they're children are sorted into.

'And that is just from this year. I imagine it was similar previous years as well, seeing as all Binns does is drone on about goblins and giants to sleeping children. That is not what we need. We, our children, are forgetting our own history, our own heritage and what makes us special. Without it, we might as well be muggles with wands.'

Having finished his speech, and his revelations, he sat down, waiting for the discussion between the governors to come to a conclusion. There was something in the way Narcissa was watching him. A shrewdness, he couldn't place.

'Mr. Potter, while this is all very startling and a great cause of concern, it is also slightly impractical to rectify,' said Augusta Longbottom. 'Allow me to point out a few obvious problems,' she added, seeing his confused look. 'Firstly, no Defence teacher sticks around more than a year. If they do not suffer some horrendous accident, like last year's Professor blew off his own foot or the year before that when she suffered permanent transfiguration disfigurement, they simply resign or are useless to begin with. On the subject of Binns, we readily agree with you and have taken this concern to the headmaster, but he simply refuses to give the post to someone else.'

'Reason?' Harry asked, shocked at the headmaster's attitude towards one of the most important subjects they could take.

'Not enough funding,' Narcissa replied. 'That is Dumbledore's answer every time, Mr. Potter.'

Harry considered this and he had a solution but it needed to played carefully. 'Then I believe I have a proposal?'

'Oh… we're all ears,' said one ancient looking wizard in silk robes. 'This should be interesting.'

Several people chuckled at what they thought was Harry's attempt at looking important. Let them. They will see that he was indeed correct.

He looked to Narcissa, and she nodded encouragingly. 'There are 350 students this school year. I know, I had the students in each house counted.'

'How did you manage this, Mr. Potter?' asked Professor McGonagall, quite shocked that this child had managed not just the counting, but also the data collection.

'By forming alliances, Professor,' Harry replied cryptically at the deputy headmistress who he disliked quite a lot.

'With who?' she asked, clearly not willing to let this go.

Harry sighed, 'Nymphadora Tonks in Hufflepuff, Percy Weasley in Gryffindor, Penelope Clearwater in Ravenclaw and Vinda Rosier in Slytherin.'

There was a booming laugh from the other side of the table from a particularly distinguished looking, old man who looked to be in his sixties. 'Very Slytherin of you, boy.'

Narcissa too looked like she was impressed.

'Thank you,' Harry replied, glad for his compliment.

Professor McGonagall however, did not look pleased at this. Who cares?

'Go on, boy. Tell us this scheme of yours,' the same man said. 'I am quite anxious to know how you plan to get our children back on track from this muggle nonsense, though I doubt it will work.'

'Nott!' McGonagall glared at the man but he ignored it.

Harry smirked, liking this man more and more.

'As I said, there are three hundred and fifty children in school now. How much does the school pay a teacher, annually?' he asked, not wanting to sound presumptuous with his calculations without knowing the expenses.

'Fifteen thousand galleons after deducting their board and food, for a normal teacher. 20,000 for one with a Mastery in said subject,' answered Professor McGonagall.

Harry nodded, doing the calculations in his head. He had always been good at math. 'And how is this compared to other schools?'

This time, it was Narcissa who answered, 'More than Durmstrang, but less than Beauxbatons. But then again, they do make more money and have a larger student body.'

'And how many orphans are there?' he asked, not wanting to extort money from them especially since they were getting substandard Defence education.

'20,' Professor McGonagall replied, her face still taut.

'Then that makes 330 paying students. My proposal is this. We increase each student's fees by forty galleons. That makes 13,200 galleons' Harry did the calculation roughly in his head.

'That's still not enough,' said Griselda Marchbanks, not looking impressed. In fact, she looked thoroughly unimpressed.

He hoped Tonks would not mind he used the information he fished from her in such a way. Or he might actually lose the only friend he's got.

'I know. But if we keep Binns, only halve his twice a week double periods to twice a week single periods, and give the rest to the new teacher, we can pay her less since she'll be teaching less and sharing the subject with Binns, who isn't paid anyway. Let's say, 12,000 galleons, that would leave, 1,200 galleons surplus which can go to the Orphan fund.'

The old man on the other side was looking at him shrewdly, just like Narcissa was a while ago. 'What of the families out of those 330, who can't afford to pay the extra forty galleons.'

Harry narrowed his eyes. The man was trapping him somehow. He just didn't know how. 'If there are any, I will for the 20% of those families, the rest can be taken out of the Orphan Fund. Let's say, for example, there are 10 who can't pay the extra forty. Of those ten, I will for two. Which means eighty galleons.'

He could see that Professor McGonagall was about to say something and from the looks of it, it wasn't going to be beneficial to what he was trying to do here. It seems Narcissa saw this too and added, 'Of the remaining 80%, House Malfoy will pay for 40%.'

Harry nodded to her, thanking her silently. She didn't know why she was doing her but he was grateful nonetheless.

'What do you get out of this, boy?' asked the old man, Nott. 'There must be something you want, otherwise you wouldn't be paying for it from your pocket, when you can clearly hire a private tutor?'

Harry smirked at the man, 'Maybe I just want a good History of Magic education and care deeply for my fellow students to get the same.'

Damn, this man was clever. Harry had hoped this wouldn't come up till the end.

Griselda snorted, 'Please. You're a Slytherin through and through! There has to be something you're getting out of this.'

Harry narrowed his eyes at the old hag, 'I'm not entirely sure what you're suggesting.'

She scoffed, 'And I'm entirely sure you're entirely sure of what I'm suggesting.'

Professor McGonagall didn't look at all happy where this was going. 'I must object!' It seemed that she had had enough. 'It is the power of the headmaster and deputy headmistress to decide who to hire. Not the board and certainly, not a first-year student, even if you are paying partially from own vault. Which I am sure, neither James nor Lily would approve of.'

It was Narcissa who came to his aid, 'Minerva. If the esteemed headmaster and the deputy headmistress could have solved this problem, I have no doubt that they would have done so, by now.'

'You are indulging the boy…,' Professor McGonagall started but was soon cut off by Nott.

'We are not indulging him. We are listening to a proposal by a skilful negotiator. Go on boy, I'm sensing you already have a teacher in mind. Is it your own mother?' he sneered.

Professor McGonagall looked sharply at him and then, at Harry. Was she hopeful that he did indeed have Lily Potter in mind? Well, tough luck.

Harry scoffed, 'Certainly not. Ignoring the fact that she is a muggleborn and that she either doesn't know of wizarding tradition and customs or doesn't respect them and seeing as she dresses in muggle jeans and shirts in class rather than proper robes, she is hardly qualified for the subject.'

McGonagall looked incensed at this, and just as she was about to retort, Augusta Longbottom said, 'Then what do you have in mind?'

'If the board agrees to this scheme, and I will pay for 20 maybe 25% of the families who can't afford the extra forty galleons, per child. In return, the board will hire the teacher I have in mind,' he said, looking intently at the other governors who nodded their agreement. Time to spring it on them, 'And… I will be given the seat on the board of governors belonging to my grandfather Charlus Potter.'

Immediately, silence ensued in the hall. A pin drop could be heard. And then, chaos. All around them, they argued and debated this most unprecedented act.

All the while, he stood unflinchingly. It was all or nothing. He knew that they knew if they didn't agree to it, he would rescind his most generous offer of paying for 25% of the low-income families and so he wasn't worried. Besides, he still had an ace in the hole.

'Mr. Potter,' Professor McGonagall stood, 'This is not to be done! You are a child!'

'I hate to say, but Minerva is correct. We can't in good conscience give you a seat on the board!' said Augusta Longbottom. 'You are a minor.'

'Why not, Madam Longbottom. I am a minor yes, but there is precedence for it,' he looked at her and her eyes widened immediately as she realised what he said. Augusta Longbottom, he had learned when researching the board of governors of Hogwarts, had taken the traditional Fawley seat when she was sixteen when her father died and her mother gave it up to her.

After much deliberation, where Professor McGonagall made every argument not to go in favour of this, both as deputy headmistress, and saying that this would put undue stress on him and Narcissa supporting him that she would teach him as much as needed.

At the end, however, Nott said, 'On one condition.'

'What might that be?' he asked, hoping they didn't ask for more contribution. He wasn't made of money.

'You will only be given the seat on the board, if and only if, the teacher you have in mind is agreeable to us,' the man replied.

Narcissa had a remarkable poker face on. Given that she did not know who his candidate was.

'I believe you will agree on her,' Harry replied smirking at the man and knowing that he would appreciate this. 'She is, after all, a pureblood from an old house. And she is here.'

'Who, boy?' Nott said, eyes narrowed.

'Sookie, bring her in,' he ordered and instantly the elf appeared and scuttled towards the door and opening it. Narcissa gasped as did the others when she saw her own sister walk in, looking every bit as the Black she was, haughty pose perfected.

'May I present, Lady Andromeda Black,' he emphasised the last name, looking at the surprised faces of the governors. 'She has already agreed to the terms and her salary.' Nott looked at her, then Narcissa and then him, and then back, and burst out laughing. 'Well done, boy! I must say, you are a credit to our house!'

'I daresay he is,' Narcissa agreed, smiling at him. McGonagall however, looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

Two days later, courtesy of Daily Prophet, and Narcissa having told Draco, the whole school had learnt of Andromeda Black, going from being shunned by the pureblood society, to being hired by the pure-blooded school governors as History of Magic Professor, despite this not being the decision of the headmaster and the deputy headmistress.

To the students however, this meant that Harry Potter, not only had a teacher favourable to him on staff, much like Snape was to Draco, but also considerable power, as a member of the board of governors, despite being a first year. Even if, Andromeda would never show favouritism to him.

He had however, suffered quite a lot, at the hands of an irate Nymphadora, who had accused him of scheming behind her back and hiring her mother without even telling her. Of course, it didn't help that what she had said was quite true. It took Nymphadora a week to even talk to him without hexing him.

To him, however, his scheme was entirely different. He was over the moon. Not only had he not been found out, no one even had a clue as to his real intentions. He couldn't give a rat's arse if the muggleborns or half-bloods learnt wizarding history or not.

No, his plan all along had been to get a proper pureblood, raised among the old families, to tutor him in pureblood tradition and customs. He had quickly realised that learning from books was next to nothing, compared to learning from an actual pureblood. And if said pureblood had been a Slytherin, then all the better.

Lo and behold, when he read the article about Tonk's mother divorcing her husband, and her plans to look for a job, Harry had needed to act quickly. Getting permission from Snape to request a meeting from the governors had been tricky but after weeks of pestering him, he had succeeded.

As only with the permission of the head of house, can a student request the board. Getting a seat on the board had only been a bonus he had thought of later.

And so, merely after two days of Andromeda Black being hired, Harry was getting private lessons from her on etiquette, discretely, despite her not having started regular classes.

The only thing that could have made him happier was the mentorship with Cassia, but that was still in process. His wand, was being temperamental as usual. He had to get rid of it. But he had to find a way how to do it, without raising suspicion.

Of course, when did things ever go right in his life. He was positive someone was scheming against him. Not only had most of the school blamed him for increased fees rather than thank him for a decent History teacher, one of his most closely guarded secret had somehow become public knowledge.

Three days after the board meeting, he was the subject of whispers, sneers and not a few glares, even more than before. Harry hadn't realised what had gone disastrously wrong, as some of the people had started acting halfway decent to him, now he was actively shunned by the Slytherins.

Harry's and Narcissa's meeting as aunt and nephew at gone on a long way in lessening some of the stigma he was facing as a Potter, light sided member in Slytherin.

But then the news of his being nearer to a squib status than he would like, above Longbottom, had made rounds of the hallways. Even his Myrridian Index number, a measley 45, a power level for witches and wizards, which was only known to Madam Pomfrey had been leaked.

He had been more furious than ever in his life and barely stopped physically attacking the few Gryffindors who had called him filch junior or the next caretaker or the various other heckles.

Not for the first time, he cursed Voldemort for ruining his life. Whenever he tried to improve his life by even the tiniest amount, he was right back to where he started. Or worse.

Given how angry his family were at his acquaintance with Narcissa, and then subsequent board seat and hiring of Andromeda Black, a pureblood from a dark family, he was almost certain that they were the cause of his most recent embarrassment.

He would have his vengeance, he swore. For making him the laughing stock of the school. Right now, even though he was learning pureblood etiquette, he was lower than the muggleborns. Barely above muggles.

Every single student in his year had gotten a mentorship with an older student or a teacher. Tracey was a mentee for Cassius Warrington, friend of her older brother, Daphne for Grace Weitt and others had similar fifth- or sixth-year mentors. All, except him. Who in their right mind would want a near squib as a mentee.

Curiously, Cassia LeFay cared not about the most recent revelation when he had, worryingly asked her. She merely informed him that she was already aware of his predicament when she agreed to test him in the first place.

Now, he had vowed to not involve himself in house or school politics and show everyone their folly. He needed a better wand. But he couldn't just throw away his wand. He was lucky one chose him as it is, with being almost a squib and whatnot. But then, an opportunity showed itself.

One day at breakfast, after he had received a parcel of sweets from Narcissa, an unfamiliar eagle owl had dropped in front of them. His heart had raced the moment he saw that the letter was Mia Gregorovitch.

A plot formed in his head. But it would take a huge amount of risk. Who was easiest to anger? he wondered as they left Binn's class that afternoon. The last class of the day.

So, lost in thought he was that he didn't see Ron Weasley getting out in front of him, next to Alexander and bumped straight into him.

'What the hell…,' Weasel cursed and whirled.

Harry quickly did damage control, 'Hey, watch where you're going, Weasel,' or tried to anyway.

'WHAT?!' he yelled, his ears getting red. 'You're are the one who bumped into me!'

'Yes, Hadrian!' Alexander decided to butt in. 'You should see where you're going!'

He was a little impressed that the idiot had managed to remember his name.

'Only because you decided to stop suddenly,' Harry sneered at them both. 'Weasel, has your very limited intelligence dropped even lower that you don't even know what happens when you abruptly stop when there were people walking behind you.'

Weasley spluttered, getting redder than before as Alexander glared at his brother.

'You tell him, Potter,' Draco egged from the side. Harry rolled his eyes. Trust the conniving moron to try and play both sides against each other for his entertainment. But Harry smirked nonetheless at quite Slytherin-ness of him. He may be a moron, but he certainly embodies the house's traits.

'So, these are your friends huh!' Weasel growled pointing at Draco. 'A bunch of stinking Slytherins. I bet you get along just fine with them with all practising the dark arts together!'

'And get matching dark arts tattoos while you're at it!' Alex backed him up, sneering at Harry.

Harry smirked, 'Oh. Really… That's rich, coming from the boy whose wand is the brother to Voldemort's.'

The surrounding students gasped in shock, looking at Alexander, who was paling by the second. Someone even mentioned 'dark wizard' under their breath but it was clearly heard in the silence.

Alex growled, taking out his wand, 'Why you? Filthy squib, I'll show you…'

Harry didn't overly concern himself, seeing who was coming near them. He couldn't see him, but he felt him nonetheless. Again, he had no idea how. 'Oh look. That's Voldemort's wand, isn't it…'

Alexander flinched just as he said the name. 'Shut up! I am the Boy-Who-Lived! I am not like him!', he screamed arching his hand to jinx him.

'Oi Weasel! Is that a new wand,' he heard Pansy say just as he took out his own wand, just in case. Weasel had indeed taken out his wand and it looked to be new. 'Potter gave you the money for that didn't he? Seeing as your filthy muggle loving father can't even buy his children decent robes, much less a wand.'

'What do you expect, Pansy,' Draco sneered, 'When they don't have any wizarding pride. No wonder they dress in rags!', making her shriek in laughter. It was quite painful to the ears, Harry had to admit.

'Well at least we don't associate with death eater scum!' Weasley snapped back.

'Are you even a pureblood, Weasel,' Draco sneered. 'But then again, being Potter's friend, I'm surprised any of you are wizards at all. Filthy blood traitors, spawning more children than they can afford to clothe and feed!'

Not having had any of his own clothes or even decent food for most of his life, Harry had to admit, that that was a bit much.

'SHUT UP!' Weasley screamed, 'Tarrantallegara!', mispronouncing the dancing feet jinx just as Alexander yelled, 'Everte Statum!'

Both, coincidentally at Draco. Harry saw his chance and stepped in front of him, slashing his wand from up to down, 'Protego!'

A somewhat, blue-ish shield appeared in front of both Draco and Harry. Ron's off-mark orange light and Potter's blue light crashed into his flimsy shield. However, they were standing only a few feet apart, and with a bang, both duos were flung apart, into opposite walls.

'WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!' came Snape's yell, as he suddenly appeared in front of them like a bat, cape bellowing behind him.

'Ughhh!' Weasel and Potter got up from their tangle of limbs and immediately blanched seeing Snape there.

'Potter! Weasley! Twenty points from Gryffindor for doing magic in the corridors,' Snape snarled at the boys.

'What?!' Weasley yelled.

'That's not fair! They did it too!' Alexander pointed at Harry and Draco who were also getting up.

Snape whirled onto Harry, 'Explain!', he hissed murderously.

'Weasel, not watching where he was going, immediately stopped and bumped into me. I told him to watch where he was going and he started arguing back, and then insulting us Slytherins, along with Alexander,' Harry answered, keeping his right hand behind his back.

There was a gasp from Draco beside him but he ignored it… for now.

'Any witnesses?' Snape asked the group around them.

Pansy immediately stepped forward and glared at the two Gryffindors, 'Professor. They started insulting Slytherins, even though the argument was about who got into whose way, and saying how we all practise the dark arts and should get matching dark mark tattoos and then they both tried to jinx Draco, but Harry shielded them both, or tried to,' she replied and turned to Weasel. 'Some Gryffindors you are. Fighting two on one. Cowards.'

'Ten points from Gryffindor for trying to jinx a fellow student. A week's detention. Both of you!' Snape sneered at them both.

They both spluttered in anger, but when Snape said to go and see what Minerva thinks, they both shut up.

'Away with you all, now!' Snape ordered, much to the Gryffindors protests but were stopped when Draco said, rather gleefully for Harry's tastes. 'Sir. There's more.'

'What now, Mr. Malfoy?' Snape asked his mentee.

Harry was sure the man had some punishment lined up for them both once they reached the common room.

'Potter and Weasley broke Harry's wand,' he pointed to him. There were gasps all around them. Alexander's eyes widened at the revelation.

'What? Show me, Potter,' Snape said, stretching his hand out.

Harry glared at the Gryffindor duo as he handed over his broken wand. The 11 inches of willow almost snapped in half, hanging together by a single thread of unicorn hair.

Snape turned to the wilting Gryffindors and if his gaze could melt, Harry might have thought that they would be a puddle right now.

'Mark my words, Potter, Weasley! Your parents and Professor McGonagall will hear of this!' he snarled at them. 'Breaking a wizard's wand is a most heinous insult. One more week of detentions! Hand over your wands, now!'

'What? Why?' Alex recoiled back from his outstretched hand as if it was on fire.

If possible, Snape sneered even more, 'Just like your father! Clearly both of you can't be trusted not to throw jinxes in the corridor!'

'The squib did it too!' Weasley pointed at Harry, conveniently forgetting that taking his wand would be pointless, seeing as it was snapped, making everyone else remember what Harry was trying to make them forget. Curse him to the ends of the earth!

'A shield charm is not a jinx, Weasley,' Snape snarled. 'And if he were a squib, he couldn't have successfully cast a shield charm. Clearly, you don't have an intelligent bone in your body. Ten points from Gryffindor for defaming another student!'

They grumbled at the unfairness of it all, and in a rare moment of intelligence, decided not to say anything else as they both handed over their wands to Snape's outstretched hand. 'You can retrieve these from Minerva!'

He then turned to Granger, 'Who cast the first jinx, Granger? And don't lie to me.'

Granger paled a little and hesitated, looking uncertainly at Alex and Weasel, before she turned to Snape and replied, 'Professor, Ronald first cast the dancing feet jinx,'

Pansy scoffed at her, 'He botched it up!'

Hermione glared at the girl at her interruption and continued, 'And Alex cast the flinging jinx. Potter stepped in front of Malfoy and cast a shield charm.'

Snape stared at Granger for a few seconds before saying, 'Five points… to Gryffindor, Granger,' and then turned towards him, 'Potter, if you want, I'll ask Weasley's family for reimbursement.'

Weasley paled at the prospect but Harry would be damned if he took any money from them. 'It's okay, Professor. I am capable of buying my own wand if I can go to Diagon Alley tomorrow.'

'Very well, I shall escort you tomorrow. Get out of here, all of you,' Snape ordered them and Harry did not hesitate for a second before making his way out of the corridor towards the library, smirking at his successful plot albeit in a rather unexpected way. But at least, his objective of getting a second wand, without suspicion cast on himself went off without a hitch.

He was thinking of provoking a fight within Slytherin common room and accidentally breaking his wand, but when Weasley got so easily incensed by his goading, he decided why not take advantage of his foolish inability to control his temper.

And now, he was finally getting rid of a wand that didn't follow his commands, none of the blame or suspicion was on him and Gryffindor had lost more points. He grinned as he took out more books on Charms, intending to kickstart his road to greatness as soon as possible. It was good to be a Slytherin.

Twenty minutes later, a thoroughly displeased Professor McGonagall and Lily Potter had given them Alexander and Weasley another week of detentions and taken ten more points off of Gryffindor.

By the time Harry had made his way back to the Slytherin common room, a little before dinner, Slytherin house was ecstatic. Their eternal rival, was once again, down in the dumps, regardless of the many efforts of Percy Weasley, the older Gryffindors bar the twins and Hermione Granger to win them points. They had lost fifty points in a single day, again, and were once again at the bottom.

On top of that, their resident squib had broken his wand and there were bets going on, which he promptly ignored, on him not even being able to get a second one and him having to quit Hogwarts, thus saving them much embarrassment, conveniently forgetting who had been the reason for Gryffindor's loss of points.