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Chapter Text

Luke Castellan I

Luke had extensively planned and mapped out Harry’s eleventh birthday. While most days were filled with their mother’s frightful ‘Hulk state’, as Harry liked to call her moments of possession, Luke wanted today’s trip to go well and to show Harry the benefits of leaving Westport behind. They didn’t have to see their mother every day if they didn’t want to. (Plus, Harry had gotten him the best birthday gift ever a few weeks ago when he had ‘accidentally’ knocked out the power at their elementary school during their last week before summer vacation.)

And their deadbeat father was Hermes, the god of travelers. If anyone would bless them on a journey away from Westport, it would be him, especially as they would be following in his footsteps. Therefore, Luke had meticulously planned out their trip to New York City. He had saved and stolen every penny he could over the past few months and slowly amassed a small fortune of a thousand bucks. He had purchased two MTA tickets for the New Haven Line train.

They would stop by the Bronx Zoo first because Harry loved speaking with snakes. Luke was also able to speak with snakes, something he had inherited from his father, but like everything his father had given him, it was useless. Still, this would all be worth it if it could convince Harry that life was great outside Westport, where most snakes avoided their upscale neighborhood because of the exterminators. Harry loved making friends with the few snakes he could find in Connecticut, especially since they had no friends at school.

“Are we there yet?” Harry whined again.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Luke groaned exasperatedly. On second thought, he might just leave Harry behind when he left Westport. His little brother was so annoying sometimes.

(That wasn’t completely true. Luke loved his little brother like the angel he was. Just a few weeks ago, Harry had given him an amazing birthday gift: a week without school. He couldn’t explain how he did it, but somehow, he had short circuited Saugatuck Elementary School’s electric system. Whatever he had done, it had worked.)

“Rye Station,” the conductor announced. That meant they were just half an hour away from their destination, and Luke could see the Bronx skyline stretched out from his side of the train. He shivered in excitement. Their trip hadn’t been nearly as dangerous as their father had warned.

(“Monsters at every corner, life on the run,” Hermes had told them. “Such is the life of a demigod. Better to just stay in Westport, protected by my power.”)

A black-haired woman came in through the open doors and smoothly sat down across the row from Luke. She was dressed in a muscle tank top and had the muscles to make it work. He warily looked at her for any signs of being a monster, but he could feel all of his anger, resentment, and bitterness swelling to the surface. He nudged Harry, who had been slowly drifting off to sleep. He shot Luke a betrayed look at being rudely awakened from a quick nap.

“What are your names?” the woman hissed.

Luke glanced at her carefully. “Luke,” he said shortly, omitting Harry from the discussion. The woman noticed, letting out a sibilant laugh.

“What are two cute kids like you doing on a train without your parentsss?” She had a weird lisp that elongated her S’s, Luke noted.

“We’re going to New York City to meet our grandparents at the Bronx Zoo,” Luke lied easily. “What about you?”

“I’m just looking for food, and I suppose I’m curious,” the woman said.

Luke hummed in agreement. “New York restaurants are the best,” he said.

“Sure,” the woman said, and her stomach let out a loud growl. A ripple of unease passed through Luke, but he forced it down. 

Hermes’ words echoed in his mind. “Monsters at every corner…”

He waited tensely for her to strike, but nothing happened. Her tongue darted out sometimes to wet her lips, and for a moment, Luke thought her tongue looked forked like a snake… but that wasn’t possible, right?

With each minute that passed, the tension slowly faded from the air. Luke felt himself relaxing by the thirty minute mark. He was just seeing things, Luke decided. This was just a nice, hungry lady. There was nothing to worry about, no monsters here.

“Fordham Station!” the conductor said over the intercom.

Luke stood up to leave. “Come on,” he whispered urgently, tugging on Harry’s hand.

Harry followed him up, glancing warily at the woman. She grinned at them and waved. “Ssssee you later!” she hissed, and Luke had an unsettling feeling that they would be seeing her again.

Luke navigated expertly through the station, and the brothers ran onto Fordham Road. He had spent the previous Friday at the Westport Library printing out and highlighting maps of public transportation in the greater New York City area. Despite his dyslexia, he was actually able to read the maps—probably because of his affinity for travel. From Fordham Station, they would only need to walk along Fordham Road for around twenty minutes to get to the Bronx Zoo.

Fordham Road was bigger than Luke any street Luke had ever been on, but somehow he was adept at weaving through the crowds. More than once, he had to smack away a pickpocket’s greedy hands from his pockets. They passed a variety of Italian restaurants, auto repair shops, and even a McDonald’s before they finally arrived at their location.

“Surprise!” Luke exclaimed as he spotted a ‘BRONX ZOO’ sign on the wall.

Harry choked in the middle of another “Are We There Yet”.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Luke said gently, patting Harry’s back. “Welcome to the Bronx Zoo!”

“The Bronx Zoo!” Harry screamed in excitement as soon as he caught his breath. “BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER!”

Luke grinned at his little brother. “Follow me,” he said. He had spent an hour memorizing the layout of the Bronx Zoo just for this moment.

He led them past a terrarium and through a dark aquarium. Harry looked around in wonder at the beautiful sea creatures, but Luke tugged him along insistently. Harry chattered about how he was excited to see a snake from outside New England for the first time. Luke just nodded over and over again. He still didn’t know the difference between a Northern redbelly and a Northern ringneck, and at this point, he was too afraid to ask.

“Here we are,” Luke announced. “Presenting the World of Reptiles,” he said dramatically, waving his arms around and enticing a laugh out of Harry. “Come on! The anaconda exhibit is in the middle.”

Luke led Harry further into the terrarium, which was almost empty. There was only a short black-haired boy with sea green eyes and his kind-looking mother.

“Look, mom!” the boy said, pointing at an exhibit. “Species: Unknown. What does that mean?”

Harry bolted for the exhibit, ignoring Luke’s entreaties for them to stick together. Luke groaned in exasperation but followed him. 

The woman tilted her head in confusion. “Let’s go see the turtles, Percy,” she said uncomfortably. Luke wondered if she could somehow sense something wrong in the air, but he dismissed the thought. 

“I want to see the dolphins!” Percy said excitedly. “I’m telling you, they can talk!”

The woman laughed, but Luke could hear her unease. “Be careful around that exhibit,” she said to Luke as they left the terrarium.

Harry pressed himself against the glass, which was heavily reinforced. Luke glanced at the tag.

Species: Unknown

WARNING. EXTREMELY DANGEROUS ANIMAL.

Harry screamed as a large snake suddenly shot up in front of them. There was a loud hissing sound, almost like laughter.

“Not funny,” Luke muttered.

“ Too funny! ” the snake hissed.

“ Not funny! ” Harry repeated.

“ You Speak! ” the snake hissed, falling back in shock.

Luke snorted. “You deserved that,” he said.

Her forked tongue darted out as if to wet her lips, a strangely human reflex for a snake. “ Are you wizards? ” she asked.

“Wizards don’t exist, silly,” Luke said. And Harry was definitely not a wizard, he thought to himself.

The snake laughed sibilantly as if Luke had said something funny. “ I haven’t spoken to someone in years ,” she said. “ I have traveled across the world in search of a Speaker, but every snake charmer has disappointed me… but not for long. ”

Luke saw Harry glance at him nervously. The way she spoke made it sound as though she had done some nefarious things… Luke shuddered.

“ Er… glad to meet you? ” Luke said.

“ My name is Nagini ,” the snake hissed. “ I have waited a great many years to meet a Speaker, and suddenly I stumble across two. Who are you, and where are you from? ”

They both nodded. “I’m Luke, and this is my little brother Harry,” Luke explained. “We’re from Connecticut.”

“ I’m going to be taller, though ,” Harry hissed back at him.

Luke laughed. “He’s still shorter,” he told Nagini. “And younger.”

“ Siblings ,” Nagini hissed. “ I once knew two siblings… ”

“ And just out of curiosity… what is your species? ” Harry asked.

“ I wish I knew ,” Nagini said.

“ You look like some sort of python, but I’m not an expert on snakes yet ,” Harry said.

“ That’s what the herpetologists said too ,” Nagini grumbled. “ They were completely useless. Being a herpetology faculty member at Cornell means nothing, I suppose. I was just about to get out of here when you two showed up. Help me out, will you? ”

Harry didn’t hesitate. He immediately punched the glass. Unfortunately, he didn’t have superpowers or anything, and he ended up cradling his hand and moaning in pain.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked him worriedly as Nagini cackled like a witch. “Do you need me to get ice? Is-”

“I’m fine ,” Harry said frustratedly. “I just want the glass to go away !”

At Harry’s words, the entire glass wall disappeared. Luke gaped at the display of magic, and even Nagini was stunned. The alarms in the exhibit began blaring.

“ I thought you said you didn’t believe in wizards! ” Nagini hissed at him angrily.

“I don’t!”

“ Then explain what Harry is! ” Nagini demanded.

“ Harry is right here! ” Harry said. “ But Harry wants to leave. Let’s go! ”

Nagini eyed them but followed Luke as he sprinted for the exits. 

Outside, there was mayhem as sirens blared. “Warning: Animal Escape. Please make your way to the nearest exit,” a loud voice shouted throughout the zoo.

“Can you hide yourself?” Luke asked Nagini.

“ Don’t worry about me ,” she said, heading for the grass. “ I’ll find you again, Speakers. ”

“So she just ditched us,” Luke said shortly.

“Hey, at least this was fun,” Harry said, defending his actions. “Plus we couldn’t just leave her in there!”

They joined the line of people evacuating the Bronx Zoo and stampeded outside with the rest of them. Luke didn’t stop running until they were completely out of the zoo. Only then did he take a minute to sit down and rest.

“Let’s not do that again,” Luke grumbled.

“Agreed,” Harry said tiredly. 

He glanced over at Harry when his stomach rumbled to remind them that they still needed to get lunch. “Pizza?” he asked, scratching his hair in embarrassment.

Harry nodded. “I’m guessing you already have a place in mind?” he asked.

“Yes, yes,” Luke said. The Bronx’s Little Italy was right outside the Bronx Zoo, so it would be very convenient for them to find a local pizzeria. 

He marched them out of the zoo, across Southern Boulevard, and into Arthur Avenue. He knew it probably wasn’t as good as the ‘real’ Little Italy in Manhattan, but he knew Harry wouldn’t be willing to wait for the subway to the other borough to eat.

“Ooh, here!” Harry yelled, running inside Di Angelo’s Pizzas . Luke stared at him with a look of fond exasperation and followed him.

“We’ll have Pizza,” Harry announced to the young black-haired cashier, who looked amused. She turned to Luke and raised her eyebrows.

“We’ll have your pepperoni and combo pizza,” Luke clarified for her benefit. He handed over thirty bucks and accepted two quarters and a dime as change. They found themselves a small table near the entrance. Luke’s legs were a little cramped, but he ignored it.

“The pizza’s good,” he said gruffly.

“Not good enough to justify coming all the way to New York,” Harry corrected. “But-”

“Good enough,” Luke said, cutting off Harry’s attempts at conversation. He wanted to reflect on what had gone wrong. Maybe their father had been right after all, and it was too dangerous for them to leave.

They ate in silence. Harry silently followed him back to Fordham Station, and they rode the train silently back to Westport. They silently clambered through the woods in a shortcut that Luke had discovered.

“We’re home, mom,” Luke said tiredly, knocking on the front door.

Their mother appeared in the doorway and beamed at the sight of them. “My sons! I thought you had left!”

Almost , Luke thought bitterly. They had almost left Westport.

“We wouldn’t do that,” Harry promised. “We couldn’t just leave you behind.”

“Oh, my children,” May said, her eyes clouding up. “Yes, yes. Don’t leave. Don’t meet your fates…”

Luke shivered. He had a clearer memory than Harry of the good old days, back when their parents had still been together. But after she had attempted to taken on the spirit of the Oracle of Delphi, May Castellan had turned from an up-and-coming archaeologist at Yale University into a babbling mess. Their mother, who had always had the gift of prophecy, was now trapped within her prophetic visions. She was so fixated on the future that she could no longer see the present.

“You have mail, by the way,” May said, winking at Harry before heading to the kitchen to check on her probably-burnt cookies. “Someone special dropped something off for you, Harry.”

Luke glanced at the familiar-looking Hermes Express parcel on the dining room table, which Harry quickly tore up. “It’s from dad, it has to be!” Harry said excitedly.

A note tumbled out of the unwrapped package, which Harry dutifully ignored in favor of the stick that was in his hand. No, it wasn’t a stick. Luke could see that it was a foot-long rod wrapped by two elegantly engraved snakes and topped off by two wings. He could recognize this in his sleep.

“It’s a caduceus,” Harry gasped. Luke felt the stirrings of envy in his gut, but he brushed it aside. So what if he had just gotten two flying shoes? That could be useful if he wanted to escape a fight, or something.

“There’s a note,” Luke pointed out, bending it over and picking it up.

Harry grabbed it and began to read. “ Happy birthday, Harry! I apologize for my leave of absence -”

Luke snorted. ‘Leave of absence’ was a complete understatement of what Hermes had done.

“ I understand that you may be struggling to decide between attending Hogwarts and Ilvermorny, but know that regardless of your choice, I’ll be proud of you, Harry. James and Lily are too. ” Harry looked at Luke, who had paled after hearing the letter’s contents. “What is dad talking about?”

Luke struggled to explain what had happened but somehow he found the words. “Um… I honestly thought it was just really persistent prank mail… I guess it’s not?” he said. He had gotten mail from ‘Hogwarts’ and “Ilvermorny’, but the names had just been so ridiculous and the idea itself was outlandish… or so he had thought before today’s events. Now, Nagini’s words were making him question his beliefs.

Harry narrowed his eyes angrily at Luke but rushed out the door for the mailbox. He returned with two more letters in his hand. “You were interfering with my mail?” he asked, waving the envelopes at Luke aggressively. 

“Well, you know, I thought it was prank mail. Who calls their school Hogwarts or Ilvermorny ? What type of cruddy names are those?”

Harry snorted a little, but he still looked furious.

“Basically, um… you’re a wizard, Harry,” Luke explained awkwardly.

“I know,” Harry said. “Dad explained this stuff to me before he left.”

And you didn’t tell me? Luke thought accusingly. He raised his eyebrows. But he realized he had no excuse to be accusing Harry of distrusting him, not when Harry had reasonable grounds for his mistrust.

“I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not,” Harry explained further. “I mean, it would be a little like him to leave me with that one last joke.”

Luke found that he agreed with Harry’s assessment of the situation, but he still felt a little annoyed that Harry hadn’t told him about this. They could have thoroughly pranked everyone at school with Harry’s magical skills! “That does sound like him.”

Harry nodded and cleared his throat. “ This caduceus is your birthday present. It even has some special features that a normal wand doesn’t have, but you’ll have to learn about those on your own. ” Luke watched as he whooped in delight about his new gift. He was happy for Harry, but… 

“ Hey Luke, I hope your winged shoes are treating you well. Take care of Harry. Best of luck, Dad. ”

That was all he had gotten? He was just a side note, even in his father’s letters. Harry got the actually usable caduceus, and he had just gotten some stupid flying shoes. But Harry was looking at him expectantly, so Luke pasted a smile on his face and gritted out, “Thanks dad.” Harry beamed at him.

Luke would take care of Harry to the best of his ability. But it wasn’t like there was anything he could do if Harry left for boarding school in Scotland or Massachusetts. He couldn’t even legally drive yet! (And May couldn’t legally drive either, not with her hissy fits.) If Harry was being taken care of at whatever fancy elite school he ended up at, Luke would just have to look out for himself.

Chapter Text

Albus I

One did not go through 111 years of life without building up a few serious regrets. Albus Dumbledore had, over the course of his life, been the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Head of Transfiguration, Prefect, and Head Boy (in order of importance). Behind each of these illustrious titles was a gruesome struggle for power and a tragic story. Now, he was only Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Ariana Dumbledore.

Gellert Grindelwald.

Aurelius Dumbledore.

Leta Lestrange.

And the most recent addition to the list: Harry Potter.

Not a day went by without Albus chastising himself for leaving Harry Potter with the Dursleys. When Arabella Figg had used the Emergency Floo to alert him to the fact that she had never seen Harry around Surrey, he had been worried. But after checking in with the Dursleys, he had been horrified. The Order, which had been placed on standby following Voldemort’s defeat, was reactivated to search for the missing Boy-Who-Lived.

But try as they did, they could not find Harry Potter. The boy had seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth. Even the most advanced scrying spells could not identify Potter’s location, suggesting that he was likely dead.

When Hogwarts began crafting letters for new students, his loyal deputy had been shocked to find Harry’s name on the roster. They had tried tracing the letter, tracking the letter, but somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, their location charms disappeared. As the weeks passed and there was no response, Albus began to doubt that Harry was still alive.

He did not have to doubt for long. On his birthday, on the deadline for registration, Harry sent in a letter asking for a ‘school tour’ of Hogwarts before he made any decision. Minerva was shocked by his boldness, and Severus was insulted by his impudence, but Albus saw an opportunity to learn about Harry Potter. He agreed to the request.

____________________________________________________________________________

Albus stood on the front lawn of Hogwarts, awaiting the arrival of Harry Potter via Portkey. He had meticulously prepared every nook and cranny of the castle with the help of the house elves, Argus, and Hagrid, the only staff members still on campus during the summer holidays. He had briefly considered calling the professors back to introduce them to Harry, but he knew that one whiff of Severus would instantly convince Harry to go to Ilvermorny.

He could feel something request passage through his wards, which he allowed. An instant later, Harry was deposited on the ground in front of him by the red sock Portkey Albus had mailed to his address in the States.

“You couldn’t have found a better mode of transportation?” Harry griped from his position on the ground. 

Albus took note of his clear American accent and chuckled. “Portkeys usually don’t have that effect,” he explained. It seemed as though Harry did not have much experience with Portkeys, which were one of the most ubiquitously known forms of magical transportation for foreign travel. This likely meant that Harry had a Muggle heritage, which should theoretically make him easier to impress. Albus filed away this information for later.

Harry groaned and sat up. “So it’s just me…”

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Albus said warmly, reaching out an arm to help pull Harry up. “You’re on the grounds of one of the oldest magical schools in Europe.”

Harry looked around the clearing, and he looked impressed by the castle in the distance. But his next words were anything but admiring. “Wouldn’t the Platonic Academy or the Lyceum be older?” he asked skeptically.

Albus smiled tightly. “The British Ministry of Magic does not consider that a proper school of magic,” he explained as he began walking towards the castle. “They do not follow the universal principle of separating religion from their curriculum.”

Harry looked at him skeptically. “So it’s because they’re Hellenistic?” he asked.

Albus nodded. “Wizarding Society has, for the most part, moved beyond religion, although we’ve never asked about this in our census, so I couldn’t confirm that for you in numbers,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, just curious,” Harry said smoothly. Albus wouldn’t have known he was fudging the truth if he hadn’t been trained by decades of teaching schoolchildren. Harry seemed to be upset about the deranking of the Greek school of magic, although it was unclear whether his concern was because he was Hellenistic or religious.

“Were you accepted to any of the Greek schools?” Albus asked curiously.

“No,” Harry replied instantly. Albus’ hackles rose. He had answered too quickly, leaving a large possibility that he wasn’t truthful. That meant that Albus had to convince Harry that Hogwarts was better than the oldest magical school in Europe, which would be a tall order for him. Another part of him was concerned that Harry lied so easily, but so far, it had been over small things. Albus would have to watch him carefully for any further signs of dishonesty.

“I see,” Albus said as they arrived at the doors to the castle, where he had placed Hagrid. Choreography was key in forming a good impression. “This is Rubeus Hagrid, our groundskeeper.”

“Yer really Harry Potter?” Hagrid asked, sounding as though he were on the verge of tears. “Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby. Then yeh disappeared fer summat ten years. Glad ter have yeh back.”

Harry looked bewildered and taken aback, and Albus realized that perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to place Hagrid here. “Er… right,” he said awkwardly. “Hi Mr. Hagrid.”

Albus intervened. “Harry, Hagrid is just really ecstatic to see you again. Let us continue our tour, then. Hagrid, it was great seeing you.”

“Great seein’ yeh too,” Hagrid said, taking out his dirty, spotted handkerchief. Albus winced, hoping that Harry would ignore the moment. From the looks of it, Harry was determinedly fixing his eyes on Albus’ blue and white robes. (Frankly, they were the most normal-looking robes in his entire wardrobe.)

As planned, the doors to the front corridor seemingly opened by themselves. (Albus would have to thank the house-elves later for their service with some extra-sour lemon drops.) 

“Up ahead is the Great Hall,” Albus said. Again, the doors slowly moved open as they moved closer. He could hear Harry gasp at the sight of the grand hall, with its starry night sky ceiling.

“It’s beautiful,” Harry said under his breath.

“This is where our students eat with their friends and classmates from their houses. In total, there are four houses, one for each of the founders of Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Our sorting method is very unique and very ancient.”

“Is this based on something?” Harry asked curiously. Albus began wondering whether he had misjudged the boy’s earlier responses. Perhaps he was truly just a curious child, destined for Ravenclaw.

“The Romans believed that the throneroom of their gods was enchanted to show the night sky,” Albus explained. “Although they lost control of Britain long before then, their influence was still strong among English wizardkind at the time when Hogwarts was founded.”

“Interesting,” Harry said, and Albus found himself wondering what the boy was thinking. If he had truly been asking out of curiosity, he would have probably asked another question. Instead, there was something about the starry sky that directly reminded Harry of something… 

Albus wondered if Harry had taken a tour of Ilvermorny or the Academy. He had thought that Ilvermorny was closed, but he didn’t know enough about the Academy or the Lyceum. If Harry had… convincing him would be more difficult.

~

“This is Gryffindor Tower, my home when I was a student here,” Albus said, gesturing at a portrait of a plump woman. “Caput Draconis.” 

The portrait swung open to reveal a vibrant red and gold chamber.

“Home of the brave,” Albus explained. Harry looked rather impressed, so he took it as a win.

~

“This is Ravenclaw Tower,” he said, pointing at a bronze eagle-shaped knocker.

“What goes on four feet in the morning, two feet at noon, and three feet in the evening?” the knocker asked.

“A person,” Harry said instantly. The door swung open, revealing a room that looked more like a library than a dormitory. 

Albus chuckled. “I see that you’re familiar with the riddle.”

“It’s well-known,” Harry pointed out. Albus was tempted to tell him that, no, it was from an ancient Greek play that wasn’t taught in most Wizarding households. “People live here?” Harry abruptly asked. “I mean, it just doesn’t look very hospitable.”

“This is the House for those seeking wisdom and intelligence,” Albus said, wondering about the mystery of Harry Potter. The boy seemed like a strong candidate for Ravenclaw, from what he had seen. That, or Slytherin.

~

“These are the dungeons,” Albus said pleasantly.

“Dungeons!?” Harry asked, glancing around nervously.

“You may refer to them as a ‘basement’,” Albus said, unfazed by his concern. “We do things a little differently.”

“I can see that,” Harry muttered. Albus had to hide a smile behind his sleeve.

“This is the entrance to the Hufflepuff Basement,” he said. “The Slytherin Commons are on the other side of the castle.” He tapped the barrels quickly, and the lid swung open.

Albus crawled through the barrel and winced at the pain in his knees. Harry followed him and audibly gasped.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Albus mused.

“It’s hard to believe this place is in the dungeons ,” Harry said.

Albus laughed. “I would show you the classrooms if I could, but our faculty is not present during the summer, so there’s not much to see. We can head back to my office to answer any questions you may have,” he said. 

Harry nodded, although he looked curious as to why Albus had purposely skipped over the Slytherin Dungeon. 

Before he could ask, Albus led him to the fireplace and threw some green powder into the fire. “This is Floo Powder,” he explained as the fire turned green. “Wizards use it to move between different fireplaces. Follow me to the Headmaster’s Office.” He stepped into the fireplace and appeared in his office.

Harry was only a step behind him. Once he showed up in the vast, circular room, he began glancing around. Albus sat behind a giant claw-footed desk and conjured a seat for Harry.

“It seems you aren’t familiar with magic,” he mentioned curiously.

Harry nodded. “Neither of my adoptive parents were wizards, so…” 

Albus noted his usage of the past tense word ‘were’. This could be a sensitive subject for Harry, so he quickly moved on. If Harry attended Hogwarts, he would have seven years to learn about Harry’s mysterious past. “Do you have any questions?” he asked, folding his hands in his lap.

Harry looked as though he were mulling the question over seriously. “What can Hogwarts offer that Ilvermorny can’t?” he finally asked, leaning forwards like a hawk about to catch its prey.

“Free tuition,” Albus said immediately. If Harry had been raised by non-magical parents, then he likely had no idea about his Gringotts vault and his small fortune. Then, he added for good measure, “Your birth parents wanted you to attend Hogwarts, so they paid for your tuition.” He watched Harry carefully for any reaction to the mention of his biological parents.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “But couldn’t I withdraw my tuition money?” he asked.

Albus winced. He had not expected Harry to make that conclusion quickly. Clearly, Harry was as sharp as a Slytherin. “I suppose you could be refunded,” he said carefully. “Although the Board may have to approve of such a measure. You have to understand, this situation has never happened before,” he added.

“I’m sure the Board would be agreeable,” Harry said sharply. “After all, the letter you wrote to the Dursleys seemed to suggest that I was being credited with the destruction of the Dark Lord and needed to be raised in a safe family environment.”

Albus winced again. It seemed as though Harry’s adoptive Muggle parents had picked him up right on the Dursleys’ doorstep, letter and all. Harry knew about his role in leaving Harry there and likely resented him. That would make this discussion difficult, not to mention the fact that the Board would never approve of a refund so that the Boy-Who-Lived could attend school outside of Britain.

“Indulge an old man’s curiosity,” Albus said. “What are you looking for in a school?”

“Well, I’ve heard that the curriculums of Hogwarts and Ilvermorny are pretty similar, so my top consideration is the distance,” Harry explained. “Hogwarts is really far from my home, but Ilvermorny is less than a three hour drive away from where I live. I could at least see my family pretty regularly if I went to Ilvermorny.”

Albus was relieved to hear that meant that the Greek schools were likely out of consideration too, just based on location alone. And if this was Harry’s top concern… “Transportation shouldn’t be a concern, if that’s what you’re worried about. We haven’t historically had many international students, but international travel can be instantaneous. We can connect your house’s fireplace to the Floo Network for easy access. However, muggles are not allowed to attend Hogwarts. Muggle family members are really only supposed to visit the magical world during a muggle-raised wizard or witch’s introduction to their new world.”

“Transportation is not an issue for me,” Harry said sharply. “With all due respect, Headmaster, I’m not seeing any reason to attend Hogwarts over Ilvermorny.” And although his words were harsh, Albus could tell that he was being completely serious.

Albus was surprised. He had never been put in this situation before. Hogwarts was the best Wizarding school in Britain and one of the best in Europe, so it was more often that children (such as Petunia Evans) were rejected from Hogwarts rather than vice versa. Even worse, if it came out that Albus had again lost Harry Potter, he would lose his last remaining position as Headmaster.

“I would be happy to provide a way for you to communicate better with your family,” Albus suggested. “We have messenger owls, magical mirrors-”

“Communication is not really a problem for me either,” Harry said.

“Muggle technology does not work in magic-dense areas,” Albus cautioned him.

“Not what I was talking about,” Harry said, looking annoyed. Albus began to think that there was almost nothing he could do to talk Harry into coming to Hogwarts, and therefore there was nothing he could do to remain as Headmaster.

“I suppose I could teach you some of what I know,” Albus said desperately. “Before I was Headmaster, I was the Transfiguration professor, Head of Gryffindor, and I taught an upper-year elective in Alchemy. I don’t teach anymore due to time constraints, but I suppose I could tutor you in some advanced magics.”

“Alchemy sounds advanced,” Harry remarked. “Are you a powerful wizard or something?”

Albus smiled ruefully, amused by the question. If he didn’t already know that Harry had been raised by Muggles, this question would have alerted him to the truth. “Some people have called me that.”

Harry was silent for a few moments. “I’ll think about it,” he said eventually.

“I’ll respect that,” Albus said worriedly. “Thank you for coming by.”

He would just have to prepare to be dismissed by the Hogwarts Board of Governors if and when this came out. Yikes.

Hermes III

“Hold on tight,” Hermes said, wrapping Harry and Luke in a warm hug and teleporting to the alley outside a dingy pub. “I never understood why the British chose this as the entrance to their magical world, but for some reason, they did. Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, kids.”

The kids looked very unimpressed, much like Hermes himself. 

“This is it?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m beginning to wonder why I chose Hogwarts.”

Hermes led them into the bar, nodding briefly to the bartender whose eyes widened at the sight of Harry. He placed his hand on the brick wall, which crumbled apart at his touch to reveal a colorful, vibrant street.

“This is more like it,” Harry said, grinning at the hustle and bustle of the magical street.

“This is Diagon Alley,” Hermes said, waving at a few passers-by. “It’s the heart of Magical Britain, the center of commerce, and where everything financial happens.” He breathed in deeply and sighed with pleasure.

“What are you smelling?” Luke asked, wrinkling his nose.

“The smell of gold,” Hermes said. “I am the god of commerce, after all. Gringotts Bank is that large, golden building at the end of the street. It’s the crown jewel of the Goblin Kingdom.”

“Goblins?” Luke asked curiously. “They’re not part of the Greek mythos.”

“You’re right, Luke,” Hermes said, grinning. “They actually come from northern Europe. I like them. They’re a hard-scrabble people, but they’ve risen above their station through trickery.”

Harry and Luke nodded, which made Hermes cackle a little on the inside. He knew they knew all about his stories. After all, he had told each story at least a hundred times.

“We won’t have much to actually buy here. I’ve gotten all of the catalogs you’ll need to order your school supplies, so we just have a day of shopping for fun,” Hermes said brightly.

Harry and Luke shared a commiserating look.

“None of that!” Hermes said, pushing them towards their first stop. “This is Flourish and Blotts, the magical equivalent of Barnes & Noble.”

It would have been a huge disservice to call Flourish and Blotts a mere ‘bookstore’. Sure, it couldn’t compare to Athena’s library on Olympus, or the Great Library of Alexandria. Still, it was impressively big for a mortal bookstore and far larger than it looked from the outside.

Hermes could hear Harry and Luke gasp behind him. He forgot that neither of them had been to Olympus—in fact, neither of them had been outside Westport, except for the time Luke had taken Harry to New York. Hermes really had to do something about that… 

“Do some exploring,” Hermes said, waving his hand at the colossal shelves that reached the ceiling flippantly. “I’ll be sitting at the table over there, doing my work.”

The moment he left them, Hermes could hear them already starting to whisper excitedly. They separated a few minutes later, grinning like maniacs. Harry spoke with the manager, who guided him to a shelf far away, and Luke found a book and sat down near the entrance. Hermes looked away from his kids and started working, glad that they were able to enjoy being in the bookstore.

An hour passed quickly, and Hermes only glanced up once to make sure the kids were all in their right places. 

By the two hour mark, Hermes was a little concerned. He knew Luke didn’t like reading, so something was clearly up. His worries turned out to be completely accurate when Harry showed up with thirteen books in his arms, and Luke carried ten books behind him.

“You know, you didn’t have to go all out,” Hermes said.

“Can you hold this for us, dad?” Harry pleaded. “My arms are killing me.” Luke nodded next to him, grunting with exhaustion.

Hermes easily picked up all of the books with his strength. The only challenge was fitting all of them into his hands, but that came easily enough. The stack of books were so tall that they almost blocked his vision.

“Let’s go to the cashier!” Luke said brightly. Harry skipped ahead and started talking with the cashier, and Luke followed him.

Hermes tried to follow them. 

He tried, but tripped on a hidden tripwire that Harry must have triggered as he walked past two adjacent shelves. He almost caught his balance, but by then all of the books had tumbled out of his arms, so he just gave up and accepted his fall.

Harry and Luke snickered, giving each other high-fives. “I didn’t think he’d fall for it!” Harry exclaimed.

“For the god of trickery, dad sure doesn’t look out for pranks,” Luke said, grinning back at Harry.

They looked at Hermes with identical mischievous expressions. Hermes couldn’t stop a warm laugh from bubbling out of his chest. He opened his arms, and the boys ran into his hug. 

The shopkeeper began fluttering around them, asking if they were okay and helping to pick up the books. Hermes waved him off. As he pressed his face into Luke’s shoulders, he remembered everything. He remembered the years before May’s accident. He remembered the good old days, when they could all run and play together. 

Hermes couldn’t be more proud of his kids.

Chapter Text

Harry I

“I heard y’all have tarantulas,” Harry declared, opening the door to the compartment with the red-headed twins.

“Who’s asking?” one brother said.

“You can call me Harry Castellan,” Harry said. His dad had said that he was ‘incredibly famous’, and he wanted to avoid the spotlight as long as he could. To that end, he had disguised his easily distinguishable scar using makeup. It was uncomfortable, but it worked.

“I’m Gred, and that’s Forge,” the first brother said. 

“Fred and George,” Harry said immediately, pointing at each of them. “Or… maybe George and Fred,” he mused.

“You were right the first time,” George grinned. Harry looked at them for discerning features, but he really couldn’t differentiate them. “Most people don’t get it… ever.”

“I’ve always had good luck,” Harry responded. “Plus, my brother and I used to try that before we figured out that it wouldn’t work.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from Britain,” Fred commented.

“I’m not,” Harry said simply. “I’m from the States.”

There was a knock on the door, and a teenager with dreadlocks poked his head in. “Fred and George?”

“Come in!” they called in unison. Harry shivered; he and Luke had tried twinspeak but decided against it. It was a little creepy.

“I’m Lee Jordan,” the boy said, sticking his hand out.

“Harry Castellan,” he said, shaking Lee’s hand. “I’ve been told you have a tarantula?” he asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Right to the point,” Lee muttered, sitting down. “I like him! Yes, here’s Hairy.”

“Harry?” Harry asked. “Nice to meet you, Harry,” he said to the tarantula in Lee’s other hand, who blinked all eight eyes at him.

“Hairy,” Lee stressed. “Like hairy pits.”

Harry could appreciate that. He was fine with spiders, but it would get strange to share a name with one.

The door opened again, and a sneering blond boy stepped in, flanked by two heavyset grunts.

“You must be the Weasleys,” he said scathingly. “My father told me all about you red-headed peasants, breeding like rabbits.”

“You must be the Malfoy,” the twins said. “Death Eater Junior.”

“I have been looking for Harry Potter,” the boy declared, as if he expected them to help even after he had acted like a complete arsehole. “Where is he?”

“Even if we did know, we wouldn’t tell you,” Fred said.

Harry could read this ‘Malfoy’ perfectly. He had met many bullies like this in elementary school, and he had come to dislike each and every one of them. He hadn’t made many friends there—there had always been something about him that scared off most mortals, as silly as he acted.

“Why do you even want to meet Harry Potter, anyways?” Harry asked curiously.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” the other boy said, sniffing. Harry took that to mean that he was up to no good.

“Actually, I do know,” Harry said. “Second-to-last compartment. You can’t miss it, it’s all the way down.”

The boys left immediately, and Harry locked the door behind them.

“I hope you know Malfoy’s probably going to do something bad to Harry Potter,” Fred said.

“Their family’s full of Death Eaters,” George said scowling. “All of Slytherin is.”

“Did you actually know where Harry Potter was?” Lee asked.

Harry laughed, sidestepping the question. “This was the first compartment I checked. I was actually looking for you guys because I heard about your tarantula, but that Malfoy guy just seemed like a jerk.”

“We feel so flattered,” Fred said.

“Don’t you know he’ll be coming back, though?” George asked.

Harry nodded. “That’s why I locked the door.”

“Well, the doors haven’t exactly been charmed to prevent intrusion,” Fred said. “With Crabbe and Goyle knocking at them… there’s no way we can keep them out.”

Harry filed away the names for later. “We’ll just have to prepare for them to come back then.”

Fred and George suddenly looked very excited. “We happen to have a lot of… special products… that we’re hoping to test out.”

Harry looked at them skeptically. “Maybe we shouldn’t target someone with a brand-new product,” he pointed out. “What if we- could we use Hairy to scare them off?”

Lee shook his head. “I don’t want Hairy to get into any trouble. He’s just a baby spider!”

“What if we duplicated him?” Harry asked.

The others shrugged. “We don’t know that charm yet,” George said.

“That’s okay, I have a ton of books,” Harry said, already reaching into his mokeskin pouch before pulling out the Encyclopedia of Charms and flipping to the letter ‘D’. “Duplicating… duplicating… found it! The incantation is Geminio , and the wand motion is a circle and flick.” 

He followed his instructions using his caduceus wand, and suddenly, there were two tarantulas.

Well. The other spider-like creature vaguely resembled Hairy but looked too deformed to be called a tarantula. 

“That looks way uglier,” Lee said, gesturing at the duplicated spider. Fred and George nodded in agreement, looking horrified by the monstrosities.

“Say hello to Hairy Potter!” Harry said, holding up his creation. He repeated the trick until there were ten spider-like blobs and one Hairy. The other kids looked fascinated and impressed but also disgusted.

“You’re just a first year?” Lee asked.

Harry nodded, exhausted. “When Malfoy shows up, tell him we’ve found Hairy Potter. When he asks where, throw the new Hairies at him.”

Fred, George, and Lee each pick up three eight-legged blobs. 

“I think it moved!” Fred yelped.

“They’re definitely moving!” George shrieked.

“I thought you couldn’t duplicate living organisms!” Lee shouted. “What in Merlin’s name!?”

Harry grinned. He guessed that the caduceus, which was mythologically rumored to be able to bring the dead to life, could animate some inanimate objects.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the compartment door. “I do not appreciate being humiliated by the likes of peasants and blood traitors!” Malfoy shouted.

“You made a fool of yourself!” Harry shouted back.

“Be careful,” Lee whispered. “Slytherins can get downright nasty.” The three older boys gripped their wands tightly.

“Let me handle it,” Harry whispered back.

The banging escalated. Harry guessed that Malfoy had gotten one of his henchmen to slam into the compartment door like a battering ram. Its shaky rattling made Harry think that it couldn’t hold on for much longer.

“I’ll show you what happens when you cross a Malfoy!” the blond boy shouted petulantly.

“You really want to meet Hairy Potter?” Harry asked. “Come in!”

One “ Alohomora ” later, the door slid open, and Hairy Potter greeted Malfoy with a friendly (but unreciprocated) hug.

“S-spider!” Malfoy shrieked. “Spiders!” The bullies turned tail and fled, chased by a wave of tiny tarantulas.

The boys sat in silence for a few seconds.

“That was a really good prank,” Fred said eventually, still wide-eyed. 

“Couldn’t have happened to someone worse,” George added.

“I know. Nobody does pranks better than my dad,” Harry said proudly with just a hint of sadness. “I’ve learned from the best.”

Fred and George narrowed their eyes at him. “That sounds like a challenge,” George said.

“It is,” Harry said.

“This calls for a PRANK WAR!” the twins chanted.

“Bring it on, busters,” Harry smirked.

The twins smirked right back. “We’ll get you, Harry,” Fred said.

“I guess I’m on Harry’s team for fairness,” Lee said.

“I’m proud to have you on Team Pottermore,” Harry said.

“Pottermore?” Lee asked.

“We just chased off Malfoy with nine Hairy Potters,” Harry lied smoothly. “Plus, I’m a huge fan of Harry Potter.”

“You should meet our sister then,” George laughed.

“We know for a fact that you don’t know as much about Harry Potter as she does,” Fred added.

“I know everything about Harry Potter,” Harry said. 

“You may think you do, but trust us, nobody knows as much about Mr. Potter as Ginny,” George said confidently.

Harry did his best not to smirk. This was going to be a great prank.

Harry tried to mask his shock by biting the inside of his cheek. Fred and George had told him that he would have to fight a troll to get sorted. Evidently, he didn’t conceal his surprise well enough, seeing as the Weasley Twins had identical smirks on their faces.

The worst part was that he had actually believed them. Fighting a troll didn’t sound bad, especially compared to his dad’s stories.

He got his revenge a few minutes later when “Potter, Harry!” was called. As he walked up to Professor McGonagall, he glanced at the Weasley Twins and Lee Jordan. Their mouths had literally dropped.

McGonagall dropped the hat on top of Harry’s head, and it went all the way to his nose. Harry had the feeling that this hat had been worn for years and never been washed. The smell didn’t lie.

Hey! Take that back! A voice rang out in the darkness.

Harry snickered internally. I guess you’re supposed to read my thoughts? I’m a little disturbed by that, but please get on with it.  

He was more than just ‘a little disturbed’, but if the Sorting Hat noticed this, it didn’t mention it.

You’ve had a rather interesting upbringing , the Sorting Hat said. Oh, ho. Your placement… this is very interesting.

What’s interesting? Harry asked.

Your loyalty to your family is incredible , the Hat said. I can feel it coming off you in waves.

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. Hermes had rescued him, May had taken care of him, and Luke had been the best brother in the world. It would be ungrateful to not be loyal to his family after they had gone through so much for him.

You’d do anything for your brother , the Hat commented. That could be dangerous.

Not anything, Harry said, rolling his eyes. He wouldn’t murder someone for his brother. Probably.

I meant what I said, the Hat said anyways. The interesting thing is that you’re also ambitious and rather devious.

I’m not devious , Harry said, frowning. Then he recalled how he had even gotten to Hogwarts in the first place and how he had twisted Dumbledore’s arms to get extra accommodations.

One might call that blackmail, the Hat remarked.

Harry huffed. Maybe I’m a little devious. But I have to be a little devious to achieve some of my goals!

And what are your goals? the Hat asked.

Right now, I’m hoping for your help with a prank of mine , Harry said. Here’s what’s in it for you. I’m sure the Headmaster, the professors, and the students—I’m sure they’ve lost a lot of respect for someone as important as you. You’re the one who determines the fate of every Hogwarts student, after all.

Of course, the Hat said imperiously. I’m very important.

And where do they even keep you during the year? Harry added. Fred and George certainly never told me about you. 

Unbelievable, the Hat griped. This school wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. And a few others.

I know, Harry said commiseratingly. Don’t you want to show them where they went wrong?

I- yes, yes, the Hat said. I can see that you’re telling the truth, young Harry. Name your idea.

In the Greek world, disrespect merits punishment. Why, my uncle Apollo once threatened to throw my father into Tartarus for his disrespect! What you want is to teach them a lesson.

Yes, yes, get on with it, the Hat said. What should I do to fix this?

Who’s in charge of Hogwarts? Harry asked rhetorically. How would you teach the Headmaster a lesson?

By replacing him, the Hat said excitedly. Or making him think he’s been replaced. I don’t have that sort of power.

Exactly, Harry said smugly. Nobody would deserve such a prank more than Dumbledore. It could be very simple, you know. At the end of the Feast, you could just declare that he’s no longer Headmaster.

Interesting… the Hat mused. I’ll consider it. In the meanwhile, your sorting must continue. You’ve certainly shown enough cunning to go to Slytherin and sufficient loyalty for Hufflepuff. You’re brave and curious, but not enough to go to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Make an argument to go to one or the other.

Harry wasn’t even sure which house he wanted to go with, but he knew which house he didn’t want to go to. He had seen Malfoy and his two goons get sorted into Slytherin, which wasn’t a great first impression. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan had warned him about Slytherins, and even Dumbledore hadn’t shown Harry their part of the dungeons. If that was how Slytherins were treated… well, Harry didn’t think he wanted to go through another seven years without any friends.

On the other hand, it would be a funny prank to go to Slytherin. He had the feeling that he was expected to go into Gryffindor, based on some offhand remarks by one Hermione Granger. Plus, Harry was a fairly ambitious person, even if he couldn’t compare to his brother in that regard. (Some of the things Luke had theorized about to Harry… it made him a little concerned.) 

These two sides warred within Harry, but he ultimately decided that he didn’t want to risk any of the friendships (?) he had just made. Throughout all of elementary school, Harry hadn’t made many friends. Part of it was because not many people wanted to be friends with him, but it was also because it was hard to find classmates in upper crust Westport who could relate to him.

Malfoy seemed like another of those snobs, whereas the Weasley twins seemed more of his speed.

Friends, eh? the Hat mused. You have the capacity for great loyalty to your friends, but you haven’t established any bonds of friendship yet. Helga herself would want me to put you in-

“The Headmaster’s Office!” the Hat shouted. “Harry Potter is the new Headmaster of Hogwarts!”

If anything could ever be called a ‘loud silence’, this would be it. Professor McGonagall, who had been standing nearby to take the Sorting Hat, stepped back in shock. The students, who had started muttering about how long Harry’s Sorting was taking, stopped entirely. The silence was overbearing.

“Surely you don’t mean that,” the Headmaster said calmly, although he looked several shades paler than before.

Chaos ensued. 

“Mr. Potter certainly has not been selected by the Board of Governors to be the next Headmaster!” Professor McGonagall immediately protested.

“HEADMASTER HARRY!” the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan chanted. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked confused, if anything. The Slytherins appeared to be torn between their hatred for Headmaster Dumbledore and their hatred for Headmaster Harry.

“I may just take a leave of absence this year,” a dark-haired man with sallow skin and dark bat-like robes said furiously.

“I predicted this! I am a true Seer!” a curly-haired woman exclaimed.

“You just predicted that ‘Chaos was on the horizon’, Sybil,” the bat-like man said furiously. “Not… not this!”

“Silence!” the Headmaster finally said after a few shocked seconds. “I would have the Hat explain its reasoning.”

Harry thought it would be incredibly funny if the Hat stayed silent or, even better, told Dumbledore that it no longer recognized his authority. That being said, Batman’s look of glittering hatred was making Harry very worried about how short his tenure as Headmaster would be.

Please speak up, Harry told the Hat. This was not what I imagined when you agreed to a prank.

You thought you could talk me into your prank, but you forgot that I am a being far older and wiser than your peers, the Hat answered. It opened its mouth and grinned. “Just kidding! HUFFLEPUFF!”

Another silence followed the Hat’s declaration.

Harry could feel the hat being pulled off his head by Professor McGonagall. He stood up, and everyone at the Hufflepuff Table began to stomp their feets and cheer.

“HARRY POTTER! HARRY POTTER!” the Hufflepuff students chanted.

Harry grinned. He had the feeling that he had made the right choice.

Years ago, Hermes had told him that he had spoken with Petunia Dursley, who had said that she was happy Harry was in ‘a better place’. Hermes thought that it was just accidental phrasing, but something told Harry that she had truly not wanted him and that she would be happier treating him as dead. His dad would have mentioned if she had wanted to meet him, for instance.

Sometimes, Harry resented his parents—both sets of them—for leaving him behind. He always felt guilty about it afterwards and did his best to respect their memories, but… he missed them. He wanted to meet James and Lily Potter, not just hear about them through Hermes’ stories. Hermes himself had left for the rest of his childhood, and May was basically gone.

It was difficult not to feel as if he was constantly being rejected by his family. Sometimes, he even wondered when Luke would leave him. He often felt like a burden on his older brother, who seemed distant at times. These insecurities plagued him all the time, even haunting his sleep.

But here, walking to a loudly cheering Hufflepuff Table, Harry could forget all about his fears of abandonment. He could feel warmth seeping into his chest, dispelling the chilliness of the Scotland autumn—a warmth that he hadn’t felt since his family had been together years ago.

For the first time in years, Harry felt wanted .

Chapter Text

Harry III

Harry was the self-appointed cook of the Castellan family. (One could only eat so many burnt cookies, and Luke wasn’t much better than their mom.) That meant he had some pretty good tastes, if he did say so himself.

The Welcoming Feast was one of the most delicious meals Harry had ever enjoyed. He knew this would be what his nectar and ambrosia would taste like, if his dad ever let him have some. The whole time, the other Hufflepuffs had mobbed the first years. They had asked an auburn-haired girl called Susan about what her aunt thought about the break-in at Gringotts (which sounded intriguing to Harry), but most of their attention was on Harry. A rather handsome third year boy named Cedric had asked him, “Crikey! How did you pull that off, mate?” (The other questions had been along the same track.)

When they had gotten to the Hufflepuff Basement, their prefect, Gabriel Truman, had insisted on giving them a lengthy speech about friendship, loyalty, and being a Hufflepuff. Harry didn’t pay much attention to his words. He looked around at his fellow first years and saw Hannah Abbott, a blonde half-blood witch, quietly yawn. 

Next to her, Susan Bones began to yawn too. Suddenly, all of the first years began yawning at Truman until he wrapped up his speech with a yawn as well.

“Well… let me know if you need any help,” Truman finished rather lamely. 

The first years nodded and bolted into their separate rooms. Harry and the other Hufflepuff boys ran into the boys’ dormitory, which had a similar homey atmosphere to the common room.

“Does anyone want the bed at the end?” Harry asked. “It’s the furthest from the door.”

The others shook their head and began discussing bed choices. Harry walked over to his bed, which was right next to a conveniently placed desk. He sat down and started unpacking his stationary.

“So Harry,” Ernie drawled. “We didn’t have much of an opportunity to talk, thanks to Tonks hogging up your time.” Harry snickered; Nymphadora Tonks had literally turned her nose into a pig’s nose. She had skill. “How did you do it?”

“Like I said to Tonks, Diggory, and literally everyone else who asked, it was just a matter of showing the Hat how it could achieve its goals.”

“Its goals being revenge on the Headmaster,” Wayne said flatly.

Harry nodded, grinning. This wasn’t exactly what he had envisioned as his first big prank at Hogwarts, but he thought that Dumbledore deserved to be taken down a peg. Or two. Or a million.

“You seem to have a bit of an accent…” Ernie said, trailing off.

“I do. I’m from across the pond,” Harry explained.

“Where?” Justin asked. “I have a cousin who has a townhouse in Manhattan.”

“That’s actually pretty close to where I live. My family lives in Westport, Connecticut.”

“I see,” Justin said, sounding as if he didn’t know what or where Westport was. Harry didn’t blame him; it was a rather small town, after all.

“Your family?” Ernie continued.

“Muggles,” Harry said. “I’m adopted.”

Ernie and Wayne looked a little flustered at the implicit reminder that Harry was an orphan, but Justin hadn’t picked up on it. “How much did you know about magic? I’m a Muggleborn myself. Actually, I was headed to Eton until I got my Hogwarts acceptance letter.”

Harry was unsure of what was so special about Eton, but he nodded anyways. “I did know about magic, but I actually didn’t know about the whole Voldemort-” Ernie and Wayne gasped. “-thing.”

“You said it,” Wayne whispered, surprised.

“It’s just a name,” Justin said. “What is Voldemort anyways?” Ernie and Wayne flinched again.

“Names have power,” Ernie said carefully, acting like he was about to get smote. “We… we try not to use his name.”

Well, Harry knew better than anyone that names did have power, but only the names of immortal beings. Immortals had bits and pieces of their essences throughout the world, so saying their name could summon their attention.

A mortal man like Voldemort, though? Harry had to dispel their misinformed notion.

“Fear of his name only gives him more power,” Harry responded. “And it’s not like he’s a god or anything. He doesn’t deserve my fear or respect. He’s a magical terrorist who the press decided to call ‘You-Know-Who’. No, I don’t bloody know who!”

The others laughed, despite clearly being afraid of discussing the topic.

“I can see how that could be confusing to a muggle-raised wizard,” Ernie said, trailing off. Everyone fell silent. Nobody knew what to say to break the silence. In fact, none of them wanted to break the silence.

“Well, I guess it’s time to sleep,” Harry said. “Adios!”

The other boys muttered in confusion, but Justin explained that it just meant ‘goodbye’ in Spanish. 

Harry sat down at his desk. Luke had made him promise to write as soon as he got settled in, and Harry supposed now was a good time to pen a letter. He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and began to write:

Hey Luke!

I hope you’re doing well back at home! I miss you already.

I pulled off my first big prank! I convinced the thousand year-old Sorting Hat to declare me the Headmaster. It didn’t work, obviously, but I had my fun with it.

I got to Hogwarts safe and sound, and I actually got sorted into ‘Hufflepuff House’. It’s the house for the hard working and loyal. My roommates are okay people, a bit nosy at times.

How are you? Write back soon!

Love,

Harry

Harry’s hand ached in protest. Next time, he would be writing with a pen or pencil. There was a reason why everyone, even the gods, had switched from quills to pens. Nobody thought that a quill was simpler or more comfortable than a pen.

Now that Harry had finished the letter, though, he wasn’t sure how to send it. He supposed that he could spend a drachma to use the Hermes Express. He began to reach for his mokeskin pouch with his allowance.

Suddenly, Hermes’ words echoed… There’s a time and place for everything, but not now.

Harry got a strong feeling that he could just use his wand. 

He pointed the caduceus at the letter and said, “Go to Luke.” But nothing happened.

He waved the wand over the letter. But nothing happened.

He was about to give up and just use the Hermes Express. Instead, he tapped the letter with the caduceus, said, “Go to Luke,” and watched it disappear.

Harry guessed that the caduceus required physical contact to work Hermes’ magic. “Sweet!” he whispered, before crawling into bed and going to sleep.

The next morning, there was a letter on his table: 

Hey Harry,

Glad to hear you’re doing well. I’m fine. School’s been a little tough, especially my English teacher. May is as usual. Send me some candy?

Love,

Luke

Harry smiled warmly, happy to know that Luke was doing alright without him. His chest ached a little, but he put that up to sleeping on his chest. Still, it reminded him of his feelings of guilt about going to a boarding school and leaving Luke behind. But… 

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t think like that. He should be grateful for this opportunity.

Wayne Hopkins was the most diligent and attentive person Harry had met. Thanks to him, the Hufflepuffs made it to every class with ten minutes to spare.

Obviously, the Griffindors didn’t have a Wayne Hopkins. Hermione and Neville had shown up to Transfiguration a few minutes after the Hufflepuffs, but the other Gryffindors were nowhere in sight.

“You’d think that the Gryffindors would show up to their own Head of House’s class on time,” Wayne remarked glibly. Hermione and Neville flushed, but they couldn’t exactly refute the point.

“You’d think that their Head of House would show up to their own lecture,” Justin said. “Professor McGonagall just left her cat here. This would have never happened at Eton.”

Ernie, Susan, Megan, and Zacharias rolled their eyes, and even Hannah Abbott seemed annoyed. None of them knew what Eton was. To be honest, Harry didn’t exactly know what Eton was, although he had a cousin who had attended an apparently similar boarding school called Phillips Exeter. Harry wasn’t a fan. His cousin was the snootiest guy he knew.

The door slammed open three minutes after class was scheduled to begin, revealing Ronald Weasley and the other Gryffindors.

“Sorry—stairs,” Weasley said, gasping for breath. “Huh? Where’s McGonagall?”

Harry would have laughed at the comical expression on his face if he wasn’t worried about the professor himself. Suddenly, the tabby cat who had been lounging on the professor’s desk yowled and transformed into the stern, gray-haired witch who Harry was familiar with. Harry made a mental note to ask the professor about how he could turn into a cat himself later; the ability looked incredibly useful.

“Professor!” Weasley exclaimed.

“Students,” she said severely. “Take your seats.”

Flushed red with embarrassment, the Gryffindors sullenly found desks to sit in. “Unbelievable,” Harry heard Weasley mutter.

Professor McGonagall glared at him and motioned for her chalk to begin writing on the blackboard. 

Rules of Transfiguration

“Can anyone tell me what a rule is?” she asked.

Hermione raised her hand instantly. “Something to be followed,” she blurted excitedly. Harry snorted, but the chalk began transcribing her answer.

“Something to be broken,” Harry said, grinning as the chalk added to the board.

Professor McGonagall groaned, shook her head, and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Not another one.”

The other students tossed out a few more answers until the chalkboard was covered and Professor McGonagall was nodding in satisfaction.

“Your answers all have some truth in them,” Professor McGonagall said, before correcting herself. “Well, most of your answers.” She stared pointedly at Harry, who grinned back at her. “The rules of transfiguration are fairly complex but vital for you to understand before we attempt any practical work. These rules have been researched and decided by experts in the field for centuries, and I highly recommend that you follow them.”

Harry smiled. The professor was certainly a stickler to the rules, but that would only make it sweeter when he proved the rules wrong.

_______________________________________________________________

The next class that Harry shared with the Gryffindors was History of Magic a week later, which was absolutely rubbish. Harry had thought he hated learning about Connecticut history back in fourth grade, but Binns (he didn’t deserve to be called a professor) showed him hell. 

Harry glanced at Hermione in awe. She was somehow able to stay awake and take notes through Binns’ endless droning. All around him, the other Hufflepuffs had already been lulled to sleep. Harry was tempted to invite her to their Hufflepuff study group just so she could explain things to them, but he didn’t think he could bear to listen to magical history lectures a second time.

“Hey Harry,” he heard someone whisper. Harry glanced around the room until his eyes fell upon Ronald Weasley, who was gesturing madly at him. “How about we learn about some actual history?”

Harry glanced at him skeptically. “Anything would be better than this garbage,” he said.

“How about you tell us about the night that you defeated You-Know-Who?” Ron asked. “Or whatever happened to your scar?”

Harry hid his annoyance and smiled. “I’d love to,” he said. Binns hadn’t taken notice of their whispered conversation, and neither had Hermione, but all of the other students were suddenly wide awake at the prospect of a good story. “As a young child, I was always interested in mastering the mystical arts. At the time, I had no knowledge of the Wizarding World, but I had been informed by a very reliable source at an American publisher called Marvel that there was real magic.”

“Marvel-!” Hermione scoffed, having been sufficiently distracted from Binns’ lecture now. Justin grinned, being one of the only students who was ‘in’ on the joke.

“Marvel is famous across the Muggle World!” Harry proclaimed, gesturing at Hermione as if her statement of recognition was proof of his claims. “Naturally, I wanted to investigate the veracity of Marvel’s marvelous claims. I made my way to Tibet and there, I discovered a monastery by the name of Kamar-Taj! The monks were led by a man who was known as the Ancient One, for he was ancient and powerful.”

“Ridiculous!” Hermione said. “We would know about this man if he existed.”

“You don’t know of the Ancient One because he does not want to be seen,” Harry said. “The monks of Kamar-Taj loyally defend our realm against invaders from other dimensions and ask nothing of us. You should be more grateful.”

“This is just from a comic book,” Hermione said bitingly.

“In the Muggle world, comic books are the best form of evidence,” Harry clarified for the sake of all of the wizards and witches present. “You can ask Justin!”

Justin nodded solemnly, doing his best not to crack up.

“I learned sorcery from the Ancient One for years,” Harry said.

“Really?” Hermione asked. “Why don’t you show us?”

Harry smiled mysteriously. “What makes you think I haven’t already? Do you remember how I became the Headmaster of Hogwarts?”

As the other students ‘ooh’ed and ‘ah’ed, Hermione visibly seethed at him. “I don’t know how you convinced the Hat-”

“Sorcery,” Harry said.

“-but you can’t convince me that you’re some sorcerer!” Hermione said.

“Children!” Binns exclaimed, having noticed their budding argument. “Cease this incessant chatter!”

Harry let Hermione have the last word in their argument. He was already planning something brilliant… 

Harry’s other classes were a mixed bag but were mostly unremarkable. Charms was fine, for instance—they shared Professor Flitwick with his Ravenclaws. The man was rather excitable but he taught well.

Astronomy was okay too. It was mostly just weird learning about the gods through their Roman names, especially when Harry knew that they didn’t use those names at all. Still, since they were still on the Jupiter chapter of their textbook, he couldn’t help but laugh every time Professor Sinastra referred to the king of the gods as a ‘gas giant’. The professor had looked at him weirdly every time he did that but eventually she chalked it up to ‘young boys being immature’. 

Flying actually went well, surprisingly. Harry wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but they had a nice and steady flying lesson. Madam Hooch had called him a natural and recommended that he try out for the Hufflepuff team as a second year student. (Harry also heard her mutter under her breath that they were much more polite and well-behaved than the Gryffindors and Slytherins. He grinned.)

Defense Against the Dark Arts was frustrating. Not only was Harry unable to understand anything that Quirell explained in class due to his fake stutter, he also noticed that every single explanation Quirrell gave about his outfit was a lie. He probably would have been more suspicious if the constant headaches hadn’t convinced him to think as little of the class as possible.

Herbology was a complete mess. Harry didn’t have a green thumb, he had a black thumb. Professor Sprout, as kind as she was, could not explain why plants seemed to shy away from him. Harry ended up getting partnered with Neville, who was the only person in the class who could balance out Harry’s plant destruction skills.

By the end of his first week, Harry was beginning to feel more confident about his place at Hogwarts. So of course, Lee Jordan had to come over to the Hufflepuff Table to stir the pot.

“Howdy, Harry!” Lee said, waving.

“We don’t speak like that in the States,” Harry informed him. “I’m from Connecticut.”

“Sherrr thing,” the Gryffindor boy drawled in a terrible Southern accent. Harry winced at the butchery of the English language.

“How are you doing?” Harry enunciated carefully.

Lee gave him a shit-eating grin. “Miiighty fine, yessiree! And you, sir?”

Harry groaned. Well, there was only one way to get rid of these silly impressions. “Miiiiiiiighty fine as well, sugarplum!” he exclaimed, purposefully exaggerating his already-terrible Southern accent. “I do declare, school is goin’ swimmingly!”

Lee grimaced but he clearly wasn’t about to throw in the towel. “Ain’t gonna be swimmin’ for much longer,” he said. “‘Cause there’s a gator after you.”

“A gator?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey, what I’m telling you is as serious and scary as an alligator,” he said in his usual Londonite voice, blushing. Harry wanted to crack a joke about him giving up, but he sounded pretty serious. “In Gryffindor, we divide modern history into two eras: Pre-Snape and Post-Snape.”

“Those both spell out P.S.,” Harry pointed out. “And so would Professor Snape, actually.”

Lee waved him off. “That’s besides the point. He loathes Gryffindor and, well, you’re an honorary Gryffindor.”

“Aww, thank ya,” Harry said cheerfully. “‘Ppreciate that, partner!”

That did explain why Professor Snape glared at him all the time, he realized. Harry probably reminded him of some Gryffindors he hated, like Fred and George. (Admittedly, Harry did happen to have similar hobbies to the Weasley Twins, so he wasn’t entirely wrong.) But the professor was still on staff, so Harry doubted that anything too bad could really happen under Headmaster Dumbledore’s watch.

“Snape will take off dozens of points if you give him the chance,” Lee said seriously. “Anything, and I mean anything , can set him off, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you lost ten points in a single class.”

“Mmmmhhmm,” Harry hummed. “You betcha.”

“Do people actually speak like that in the States, by the way?” Lee asked curiously.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why, indeeeed they do!” he said sarcastically.

“Fine, fine, I get it,” Lee said, surrendering to Harry’s superior prankishness. “Just watch out for Snape though.”

“I will,” Harry said, though he doubted it could be as bad as Lee made it out to seem. He was probably just pranking him.

Lee was not.

Chapter Text

Harry IV

Harry shivered. He decided that he hated whoever had the ‘brilliant idea’ of putting the Potions classroom in the dungeons. The room was cold, damp, and overall the exact opposite of the Hufflepuff Basement. 

Professor Snape stalked through the room, his black cloak billowing behind him like the wings of death. Or, as the Weasley Twins liked to joke, the wings of an overgrown bat.

(Harry could believe their theory of Snape being a vampire. He lived in the dungeons, dressed like a bat, and acted menacing. If he had fangs…)

“Harry Potter,” Snape said. His lip curled into a sneer. “Our new… celebrity.”

Harry wasn’t sure why Snape was furious at him, but being blamed for his fame (which he had never asked for!) did not sit well with him. He glanced at his deskmate, Padma, who looked back at him worriedly. It was as if the whole class was watching a trainwreck happen in real time, except there was no lever or button they could press to prevent the trolley from running over an innocent boy.

“Thought you could make yourself Headmaster?” Snape said.

“No, I just-”

“No, sir ,” Snape said.

“There’s no need to call me sir,” Harry said immediately before he could think better of it. “Professor,” he added, almost as an overthought.

Snape’s eyes glittered with malice. “Ten points from Hufflepuff for your cheek.” 

Harry wisely shut up so that Snape could finish his roll call uninterrupted. 

As soon as the professor read off the last name, however, his full attention was back on Harry. Harry gulped. “Time for a pop quiz,” Snape hissed. Padma shifted uncomfortably next to him, worried that she would lose House points for a pop quiz she couldn’t have reasonably expected. (In retrospect, she shouldn’t have been worried at all.)

“Potter! What would you get if you mixed an infusion of Wormwood, a powdered Root of Asphodel, a sloth brain, and the juice of a Sopophorous bean?” 

Harry had reviewed some potions with the Ravenclaws before class, but he had never heard of these ingredients. He started thinking… Asphodel was the place for dead souls that hadn’t done much good or bad in their lifetimes. He had no idea what Wormwood or Sopophorous beans were, but sloths were incredibly slow and sleepy creatures.

“Well, are you going to answer me?” Snape demanded.

“Some type of poison,” Harry mused. “It probably kills whoever drinks it slowly by putting them to a permanent sleep.”

Snape glanced at him furiously. “You’re completely incorrect. It creates the Draught of Living Death, which makes the user functionally comatose.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the professor but wrote down the correct answer anyways. That had been very close to what he had said!

“Potter!” Snape barked. Harry was beginning to think the man hated his name or something. “Name the antidote for the Draught of Living Death.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know,” Harry said apologetically.

The man tutted. “Seems like you don’t know everything,” he said.

I don’t , Harry wanted to say. But even he knew better than to antagonize Snape when he was in this state.

“Five points from Hufflepuff,” Snape announced. “The answer, Mr. Potter, is the Wiggenweld Potion.”

Harry added this to his notes as well, frustrated with Snape’s unfair treatment of him. He wondered why Snape seemed to dislike him so much. It couldn’t just be because of his prank on the Headmaster. It seemed like something personal… 

“Well, why aren’t you writing this down?” Snape hissed at everyone else. 

Maybe it’s not just me, Harry thought hopefully. Maybe he hates everyone.

“Potter!” Snape barked again. Harry groaned.

“Ickle Harrikins!” Fred—or was it George—exclaimed cheerfully.

“Haven’t had the chance to see you,” the other twin said.

“Not since the Big Reveal,” the first brother said.

“George and Fred,” Harry guessed, pointing at each of them. The twins looked taken aback for a moment but then they grinned.

“Good job on that one,” Fred said.

“Got lucky again?” George teased.

“Not now,” Harry said tiredly. 

The twins glanced at each other. “What’s going on?” George asked.

“Snape,” Harry said shortly without elaborating.

Somehow, they understood. Fred cooed, “Aw, poor Harry!”

“Snape’s always been an arsehole,” George said.

“But we’ve never seen him go off on a student like that,” Fred added.

“Especially not on the first day,” George said.

“Need a hug?” Fred asked, holding out his arms. When Harry hesitated, he put his arms back. “No worries, it’s cool with me.”

“No, it’s not that,” Harry said. How could he explain this? He had never been hugged by anyone outside his family. Even then, it was mostly just Luke for the past few years. “Sure, I could use a hug.”

The twins stepped up to him, and Harry felt some of his worries slipping away in their warm embrace. “I find that a hug always helps,” Fred explained.

“I have to hug him a lot,” George whispered to Harry. “Mom yells at him more.”

“Only because you leave me with the blame for everything,” Fred grumbled.

“We share the blame most of the time,” George muttered back, disgruntled.

Harry laughed at their back-and-forth, thinking of him and Luke. He missed Luke a lot, but they had been writing back and forth, and Luke seemed to be doing well at home.

“Hope you feel better?” Fred asked, disentangling himself from their hug.

Harry nodded. “Snape’s a butt, but I’ll get him back for it.”

“No, you won’t,” George said.

Harry was surprised until Fred added moments later, “ We will.”

“Surely you don’t think you can prank him more than me?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

The twins chuckled. “It’s so on, Harrikins,” Fred said.

The next morning, Snape didn’t show up at breakfast. Harry suspected that had something to do with the gallon of magic-resistant black and yellow paint Harry had talked Goopy the house-elf into cleaning part of the dungeons with (in exchange for Harry’s help in picking some flowers for Coobey the house-elf). Best of all, there was no way his involvement could be detected. 

He smirked at the Weasley Twins, who grinned smugly back at him before they were pulled away by an irate Percy Weasley. Harry briefly wondered if they had topped his prank but dismissed the thought.

“Harry! What have you done!?” Gabriel Truman yelled.

Harry gulped. Had he been discovered somehow? No, that was unlikely. The house-elf had been adamant that he wouldn’t give up Harry’s game, and they couldn’t have possibly slipped past Harry’s lie detector test. 

“We’ve lost FIFTY points,” the prefect continued. Cedric shot him an alarmed look from across the table, and the other first-years gasped. “Explain yourself.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Harry said. “I haven’t done anything to Snape. I’ll talk to Headmaster Dumbledore and get this whole thing cleared up.” He had a meeting scheduled with the professor anyways… 

Soon after breakfast, Harry made his way to the Headmaster’s office. “Licorice Lice,” Harry told the gargoyle. He felt rather stupid talking to a statue, and part of him suspected that it was a prank. If Luke had asked him to speak to a statue, Harry would have assumed there was a camera somewhere on the statue.

He was relieved when the gargoyle moved aside to reveal a stairway up to the Headmaster’s Office and began climbing the spiral staircase. He was surprised that Headmaster Dumbledore had made the password to his office the name of a popular magical candy, but it fit with what he had seen of Dumbledore up to that point. The man was trying to gain his support with his eccentricity, and Harry wasn’t having it.

Harry knocked on the door. “Come in!” he heard Dumbledore call out.

He opened the door and saw the wizened wizard sitting at his desk. “Hello sir,” Harry said.

“No need to be so polite! Please, feel free to call me Albus or Dumbledore,” the Headmaster said.

“Alright…” Harry coughed awkwardly. “Albus.” Harry resolved not to fall for his ploy of kindness. Using first names gave a sense of familiarity that led to comfort and possibly even the feeling of friendship.

Dumbledore beamed. “Thank you, my boy!”

“You can call me Harry or Mr. Potter,” Harry said shortly.

Dumbledore looked taken aback but then he smiled. “Of course, Harry. How are you finding Hogwarts?”

“It’s nice to have so many friends,” Harry said. “And the curriculum is fascinating.” Professor Snape, on the other hand… 

“It’s good to hear that you’re settling in,” Dumbledore said. 

“But professor,” Harry began. “Why did Hufflepuff lose fifty points today for no good reason?”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Professor Snape woke up this morning on the wrong side of the bed. And I meant that quite literally. His wardrobe was in tatters, his hair had gone up in flames, and even the clothing on his body hadn’t been left untouched somehow.”

Harry pressed his lips tightly together to keep himself from laughing.  “Okay, so the Weasley twins had their fun,” Harry said dismissively. “Then Gryffindor should have been punished, not us.”

“They were,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “But Professor Snape believed that a Hufflepuff student was complicit in this prank.”

“Who?” Harry asked as innocently as possible. From Dumbledore’s knowing look, he wasn’t completely successful.

“You,” he said candidly.

Harry’s mouth fell open. “M-me?” he asked. “Sir, I love the occasional joke, but I would never do anything to a professor that would warrant a fifty point deduction. ”

“Are you sure about that?” Dumbledore asked slowly.

Harry considered confessing the truth. Such was the power of Dumbledore’s ‘wise mentor’ persona. However, his dad had taught him about the prisoner’s dilemma. Harry trusted Goopy about as far as he could throw him, which in this case was very far. Goopy wasn’t likely to betray him, so if Harry didn’t confess, he would get off scot-free. (If he confessed, a large point deduction would remain standing. Combined with his point loss in the previous day’s lecture, Harry was certain to lose a lot of clout among the Hufflepuffs.)

Besides, Harry wasn’t truly at fault here. All he had told Goopy was that he had a really bad day in Potions class. After a long conversation about Goopy’s day (and romantic life), Harry had suggested redecorating part of the dungeons. Goopy had nodded in understanding. At no point had Harry asked Goopy to target Snape.

“I’m very sure,” Harry said confidently. “I’d be willing to swear up and down and on whatever oaths y’all use over here that I did not do anything to Professor Snape. Nor did I ask anyone to do anything to Professor Snape. I was writing a letter to my brother last night, as my roommates can confirm.” Then he had snuck out to meet with Goopy, thus ensuring that there were no witnesses to their discussion except himself and the eager house-elf. 

Dumbledore watched him carefully. Eventually, he said, “Would you be willing to swear that on Veritaserum?”

“Veritaserum?” Harry asked, his heart suddenly racing. That sounded like a… “Truth potion?”

“Truth potion,” Dumbledore nodded in confirmation.

“Of course,” Harry said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “Bring it out.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “No need,” he said. “I believe you.”

Harry almost breathed a sigh of relief. He would have to look into this ‘Veritaserum’ later on, of course, but for now, his issues were solved. “So does Hufflepuff get the points back?” he asked.

Dumbledore laughed again. “Ah… youth. I remember when I was fixated on House Points myself,” he said fondly. “In this case, I’ll restore your points.”

Harry grinned at him. “Thanks, Headmaster,” he said. “I knew you would see the injustice in this.”

“However, I should warn you, Harry,” Dumbledore said seriously. “There are no regulations to point deductions. I won’t be able to do this for every deduction.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “There are no rules to point deductions?” he asked incredulously. “Is that why Professor Snape takes off points like a maniac?”

“I would ask you to not call a Hogwarts Professor a maniac,” Dumbledore said. “But yes.”

Harry gaped at him for a few seconds, stunned by the absurdity of the situation. “But that would give professors unchecked authority over students,” he said in horror. “Er… just out of curiosity, what happens if a professor abuses their authority?”

“The student can easily report their situation to me, their Head of House, or any other professor, really,” Dumbledore explained. “I would be happy to conduct an investigation into the matter.”

“But… couldn’t the professor punish the student for coming forward?” Harry asked. “No offense, sir, but it sounds as though this system gives the professor too much power.”

“The system is designed to give flexibility and discretion to the professor,” Dumbledore said. “It’s worked for centuries, and regardless, there haven’t been many cases of misconduct at Hogwarts.”

“ How would you know? ” Harry asked. “It sounds to me as though there might be misconduct that goes unreported.”

Dumbledore leaned back and considered the point. “That is a valid concern,” he said slowly. “But ultimately… I doubt I can get approval from the Board of Governors to change the system.”

“Aren’t you the Headmaster?” Harry asked seriously. “Like… the Head and the Master of the school?”

“While I may be Headmaster, my influence has been waning,” Dumbledore said tiredly. “Headmasters serve at the pleasure of the Board.”

Harry took that to mean that if Dumbledore made one more mistake, the Board would throw him out of Hogwarts entirely. He felt a little bad for the man, knowing that his entire career was always hanging on the edge of a crumbling cliff. “I see,” he said. “Thanks for telling me about the situation.”

“Do you have any other questions for me before we begin?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry had quite a few more questions, but he settled on the most pressing one. “Isn’t it bad security to use magical candy names as your password for entrance?”

Dumbledore peered at him through his gold-framed, half-moon glasses. “When you have reached my age, there is not much that frightens you.”

Dumbledore hadn’t ruled out the idea that it frightened him, although since it was such an easily rectified issue, Harry doubted that was the case.

Harry thought about it. This move was a power-play, at least from the perspective of Dumbledore’s political enemies (and he doubtlessly had many of those, considering that he was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards—both of which were inherently political positions). In the mortal world, political leaders were often protected by whole armies of people, and access was heavily restricted. For Dumbledore to allow anyone to easily guess the password and waltz into his office… that was a bold statement of his confidence in his power.

Harry reined in his thoughts. It could just be a friendly way of showing students that he was always accessible. And it definitely made him seem weird, which fit into Dumbledore’s persona of strangeness.

Dumbledore smiled at him genially, and Harry felt a little guilty about where his thoughts had gone. 

“Is that everything?” Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded. “Alright, so the topic I want to discuss with you is mind magic. Mind magic is an incredibly important topic, and although studying this too early can result in irreparable behavioral harms, I believe that you should be able to enter a state of mindfulness.”

“Mindfulness,” Harry said doubtfully. “Mind magic?”

“I have been reading a delightful book by a Muggle called Jon Kabat-Zinn,” Dumbledore said, pushing a book at Harry. “It’s called Full Catastrophe Living . It covers this novel mindfulness-based stress reduction curriculum that the man created in his academic studies. Wizards typically master Occlumency over the course of several years after establishing a strong mental foundation, so this seems well-suited for this cause.”

Harry accepted the offered book, but he continued to have misgivings. Harry doubted that this mindfulness book would weaken his mental defenses, but… he would have to do some research on this subject before committing to anything. “Thank you, sir,” Harry said.

“Nonsense!” Dumbledore exclaimed. “You should feel free to call me Albus.”

Harry snorted. “When pigs learn to fly, maybe,” he said.

Dumbledore laughed excitedly. “Pigs can fly! There are the flying sows of Greece, believed to be descended from the Clazmonian Sow.”

“ Sure ,” Harry said, injecting as much sarcasm into his voice as he could. (It didn’t work. Dumbledore just chuckled in delight.) “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” Dumbledore said. As Harry turned to leave, he added, “And Harry? Please, feel free to come speak with me at any time, about your mindfulness training or any other issues you may encounter at Hogwarts. My office is open to you.”

“Thank you, Albus,” Harry said.

Chapter Text

Harry V

A note appeared on Harry’s desk, just as he was about to leave for dinner with the other Hufflepuff boys. Harry glanced over at it.

Harry,

Hope all is well. As you know, today is Halloween. We traditionally celebrate with a special feast, but I understand if you do not attend the feast. My office is always open to you, and I am always available to speak with you.

Regards,

Albus

Harry stared at the note. He didn’t understand what the Headmaster was talking about.

He had to think about it for a few minutes. But then he realized: this was the day his parents had been murdered in cold blood by Voldemort.

Harry felt sickened by himself. How could he forget about his parents’ sacrifice?

“You coming, Harry?” Justin called.

Harry shook his head. “I’ll get something to eat later,” he said, waving them off.

“Alright, catch you later!” Wayne said.

Harry sat in the dormitory, alone with his thoughts. He thought about writing a letter to Luke but decided not to. He wasn’t doing too well right now, and he didn’t want to trouble Luke with his problems. Plus, he was sure that Luke would be fine. It wasn’t like there wasn’t anything dangerous in Westport, thanks to their dad.

Sometimes, Harry wondered what his life would be like if his birth parents had survived. He knew they cared for him, but he had never gotten to know them. Harry often felt like he was missing a part of himself.

He found himself thinking about what he had said to the Sorting Hat. Yes, he was incredibly grateful to his adoptive parents. Hermes was a busy god, and the fact that he had taken notice of Harry… They had been wonderful parents, up until a few years ago.

But he wished they could go back to the good old days, more than anything. One of the first things he had researched in the library was time travel, to see if he could fix his mom’s situation. He was disappointed to find that the Wizarding World only had 24-hour long Time Turners, although he did find a few theoretical papers that longer-term Time Turners might exist. He wondered what he would be able to do with control of time… 

He dismissed his thoughts. It was dangerous to think about his parents like this.

“I need to go eat,” Harry said to himself. He jogged into the Common Room and clambered out of the Basement. Almost immediately, Harry was assaulted by a rotting smell. 

“What is that smell?” Harry asked, pinching his nose. “Who farted?”

Suddenly, Harry heard loud thuds from around the corner, almost like giant footsteps. He whipped out his caduceus wand and aimed it carefully at the corner.

“Show yourself!” he yelled, hoping that he sounded braver than he actually felt. He wasn’t a talented swordsman like his brother. All he had was a wand that he still didn’t know how to use, beyond the few spells he had learned.

A troll appeared at the end of the corner, waving a giant wooden club around and grinning at Harry. Harry groaned. The troll was probably following him because he had a godly scent from hanging around Luke and Hermes so often.

“I hope you’re here to make friends!” Harry shouted. He quickly thought through his options. He could try fighting, but he could never get in close without that massive club wrecking him. He could use his wand, but it wasn’t like he knew much, and trolls were magically resistant.

The troll jumped at him, and Harry did not shriek. Nobody was even in the corridor, and nobody had to know what really happened.

Harry turned around and sprinted for the stairs. Hogwarts should protect me, he thought frantically.

The troll ran faster than Harry thought was possible, but Harry got to the stairs first. The stairs deposited Harry on the second floor so quickly that he felt a little dizzy. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered to himself, catching his breath. He cursed his slow reflexes. At times like this, he wished he could have his brother’s ADHD.

Harry heard a loud roar and began running again—not a second too late, as the troll appeared on the second floor. He cursed. 

His mind was racing, fielding a million ideas at a time. He quickly realized he couldn’t overpower the troll magically. His key weapon was the castle itself. If he could lure the troll into a locked room, the magical castle could likely handle the rest.

Harry glanced backwards again. The troll had slowed down a little. At times like this, he was grateful that Luke had made him practice running.

He recognized this as the corridor near Professor McGonagall’s office. That meant the girl’s bathroom would be near the end of the hall.

“ Geminio ,” Harry said, pointing at himself. A clone appeared. “Hello, HarryTwo. Lure the troll into that bathroom.”

Snuffles looked at him, his little dog eyes wide with surprise. Harry took off running for the corner at the end of the hallway, while HarryTwo stayed near the bathroom, acting tired.

Harry watched with bated breath as the troll turned the corner at the other end of the corridor and glared at HarryTwo. HarryTwo disappeared into the restroom. Seconds later, there was a loud, girly shriek.

Wait… a girly shriek?

Before Harry could react, the door opened again, and HarryTwo was shoved outside by a frizzy-haired girl. Too late, he looked up and the troll was only three feet away. Harry winced as the girl—Hermione, he realized—saw the troll and screamed.

“Hermione’s in there! I have to do something…” Harry muttered. He stared at the entwined serpents engraved into his caduceus wand. “ Can you do something? ”

“ Hello! ” one snake hissed. “ I’m Jack- ”

“- and I’m Patsy! ” the other snake hissed.

“ Glad you finally called us out! ” they chimed.

“ What can you do? ” Harry asked.

“ Ooh, laser mode! ” Jack said, excited. “ Let’s do laser mode! ”

“ Laser mode, that sounds good ,” Harry said. He pointed his wand at the troll as the snakes began to emit a red laser beam that hit the troll’s shoulder. Harry could smell the burning flesh.

The troll roared in pain and immediately turned around. Harry tried slicing the wand to separate the troll’s head from its neck, but his hand was shaking so hard that he ended up hitting the stone wall above the restroom instead. He knew he had to incapacitate the troll if he wanted to survive, but he didn’t want to kill the being…

He couldn’t do it.

“ Laser off ,” he cried. “Time to run!”

The troll stomped its way after him, bellowing in pain and anger. He could hear the troll catching up, and something told him that he was closer to death now than he had ever been before.

Harry cursed his stupid head. Luke would have told him that he needed to be stronger, to do what needed to be done. Because of his sympathy for the creature, his fate had probably been sealed. Now, there was nothing he could do. None of his spells would work, and he was too exhausted to run much further.

He wondered if his story would end here. I love you, he thought to his dad. I love you and Luke and Mom. I’m sorry.

Hermione Granger I

Hermione had been on the verge of dropping out of Hogwarts.

She had been offered admission to the prestigious Westminster School, back when she was still in primary school. She had been overjoyed by the opportunity and quite hopeful that if she could attend a school full of gifted students, she might be able to fit in for once. She had always been the odd one out and never truly had friends.

Hermione had been delighted to receive her Hogwarts letter. It explained so much, like her odd tricks and her discomfort with her peers. Professor McGonagall had given her much to look forward to, and everything had been perfectly magical.

The spell broke when she got into Gryffindor House, which according to her books was the most prestigious house, full of future leaders. The Hat had told her that she would fit in best in Ravenclaw, would make friends in Hufflepuff, would achieve more in Slytherin, and would grow more in Gryffindor, and Hermione had never been one to neglect her development. Later, much later, she realized she never asked what kind of growth. (Some types of growth require trials of pain and misery, she knew.)

That was what Hogwarts was like for her. Every day, Ronald (who also seemed to be on the verge of dropping out, albeit for different reasons) had relentlessly bullied her. She didn’t fit in with the Gryffindor girls. It had only taken one conversation with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil for her to realize that she would not be making many friends in her dormitory. She pretended not to hear their comments about her hair, her teeth, her robes—everything about her appearance, really—but it was impossible not to think about it all the time, not when she had been hearing similar complaints since she had first started going to primary school. Neville got the same treatment from his peers, but that had only made him more scared of associating with Hermione.

She tried to be brave. She had been sorted into Gryffindor House, hadn’t she? She could take this. She wouldn’t cry. She was a big girl now.

But Ronald’s acerbic remarks about her in the Potions classroom cut her to the core. It seemed like everything suddenly came crashing down on her on Halloween night, and she couldn’t hold back her tears. Hermione refused to let the other Gryffindors see how they had hurt her (she still had her pride, or what was left of it anyways), and she fled to the bathroom in the dungeons. She cried for hours, wondering where she could ever fit in and whether it was even possible.

When Harry Potter suddenly came into the girl’s bathroom, Hermione let out a shriek. She hadn’t meant for anyone to see the mess she was in, much less the Boy-Who-Lived . She had pushed him out of the bathroom instantly. 

She caught sight of the twelve-foot troll and screamed, but it was too late. The troll grinned menacingly and slammed his club into Harry, who didn’t move . And suddenly, he was on the ground, blood gushing out of him, and then he… disappeared? She ignored this in her panic, worried that she had somehow killed the Savior of the Wizarding World. She absently wondered if someone up there had heard her thoughts about leaving Hogwarts and decided to answer in the most ironic way possible by sending a troll to take her out. 

Hermione glanced at the troll that was staring at her. She made a heroic whimpering sound and raised her wand. “ Diffindo! ” she said, hoping to do some damage before she died even though she knew that trolls were magic resistant. 

A small cut appeared on the troll’s forehead, and it roared in pain. Hermione could hear some hissing and smell burning flesh, but the troll blocked her vision. She couldn’t see what was going on.

When the troll turned to chase someone—Harry, she realized in confusion (somehow, he had survived?)—she pursued the creature.

“ Wingardium leviosa! ” she cried, pointing at the thick wooden club. As it rose into the air, the troll stared at it, confused. She did some mental calculations, determined that the mass combined with gravitational acceleration from this height should be enough to knock out even an elephant, and released the spell. The troll fainted with a loud THUD.

It was just her and Harry in the hallway now. She glanced at Harry, intending to ask exactly what had happened to his body double, how he had burnt the troll with what she suspected was a laser, and where he had learned such advanced magics.

He spoke first. “You saved me,” Harry breathed in an awed tone she had never heard before. “Thank you so much.”

She tried forcing herself not to blush at his praise, but it was hard. “I-it was nothing,” she said, clutching her wand tightly in case the troll got up. “What just happened?” she asked, hoping for a quick summary of how the troll got here and where it came from and what was going on.

She didn’t get an answer. Footsteps echoed in the hall, and Professor McGonagall emerged from around the corner. She was followed by Professors Snape and Quirrell, who she absently noted looked incredibly harried (and Professor Snape was limping). 

“Potter! Granger! What are you doing? The castle is on lockdown!” Professor McGonagall demanded.

I was a little busy because of Ronald damn Weasley! part of her wanted to scream. Every other part of her body told her not to disrespect a teacher this way, but she was entirely fed up with Gryffindor House and everyone in it.

Before Hermione could say anything, Harry spoke up. “I had no clue. I was staying in the Hufflepuff basement because of Halloween and came out to grab a snack, and I ran into this monster,” Harry said truthfully, as far as Hermione could tell.

Professor McGonagall turned to her with an eyebrow lifted.

“I- I was in the restroom,” Hermione said awkwardly. She looked down at the ground, but she knew they had noticed that she had been crying.

“I suppose if you didn’t know…” Professor McGonagall said reluctantly.

“O-oh dear! W-what h-happened t-t-to t-the t-troll?” Professor Quirrell stammered.

Hermione glanced at Harry, who shook his head very slightly. “I-I read about a fire spell and burned the troll,” she lied, stepping forward to answer the question when Harry remained silent. “And Harry knocked it out.”

Everyone looked at her doubtfully, even Harry. Hermione wasn’t very surprised. She was a horrible liar—once, she had stolen a medical terminology book from her mother’s office. Her mother hadn’t even had to ask her any questions. She had lifted an eyebrow during Hermione’s fake explanation, and Hermione had given up.

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said coolly, clearly also suspicious. “Fifteen points to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor for taking down a troll with ingenious methods. Return to your dormitories.”

She glanced at Harry. I’ll see you later , he mouthed.

Hermione nodded at him, smiling past her tears. See you in Herbology , she mouthed back, wondering if she had made a friend.

Strangely enough, Harry knew of her name’s Greek origins but not her Shakespearean namesake. Her namesake had been the daughter of King Menelaus and Helen, the people who had started the Trojan War.

That was when Hermione felt as though she might just fit in with some people at Hogwarts. Harry was clearly an intellectual like her, except he studied the ancient myths instead of the sciences or maths. 

And when Harry invited her to their Hufflepuff study group in an empty classroom on the fourth floor, she was ecstatic. 

“Hello everyone!” she said excitedly to the Hufflepuffs. “I’m Hermione Granger, Gryffindor. It’s really nice to meet you all!”

“I’m Neville Longbottom,” the boy said, shuffling forwards. “Is it okay if I study with you guys?”

“Of course, welcome!” a tall blond boy said, standing up. “Harry said you would be coming, Hermione. Neville, we’re glad to have you too. My name is Cedric Diggory, and I’m the head Charms student for Hufflepuff first-years.”

“Head Charms student?” Hermione asked confusedly.

“I’m basically a… what did you call me, Harry?”

“He’s our group tutor,” Harry explained.

“We don’t have those,” Hermione said, feeling personally offended. 

The Hat had told her she would grow the most as a Gryffindor, learn the most as a Ravenclaw, fit in the most as a Hufflepuff, and achieve the most as a Slytherin. She had chosen to follow in the footsteps of great Gryffindors like the Headmaster himself, in hopes of achieving personal growth. Now, she was wondering if she had made the wrong decision.

“Really?” Cedric asked curiously. “We’ve had our tutoring system for a long time. We believe working together makes us stronger.”

“Better together,” the Hufflepuffs chorused. Hermione wondered if this was some type of chant they had made up. If so, it was a fairly lame slogan, although she wouldn’t be the one to tell them.

“Let’s start with the levitation charm, which Professor Flitwick covered in class last week,” Cedric said, etching out the words ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ on the board.

Hermione smiled at Harry, and he grinned back at her. She ignored the part of her that wanted to ask him about the hissing sounds she had heard or the troll’s burns she had seen.

It just wasn’t important enough.

Nymphadora Tonks I

“Wotcher, kiddo!”

“Nymphadora!” Harry exclaimed, grinning at the pink-haired witch. 

Dora scowled. “Ha ha, very funny.” They both knew how much she detested her name because ‘she wasn’t a nymph’. Harry used her full name just to annoy her sometimes, like when she called him kiddo instead of ‘Harry’.

“Are you headed to the game?” Harry asked. 

Her hair underwent a red shift. “Of course! Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, first match of the year. My mum was a Slytherin, so I’m excited to see them get beat down.”

Harry glanced at her skeptically.

“Oh, don’t give me that side eye!” she cried. “I have my reasons. Is the firstie gang coming?”

Harry glanced at her from the corner of his eye again and raised an eyebrow.

“You know—you, Ernie, Justin, Zacharias, and Wayne. The firstie gang,” Dora said impatiently.

Harry cracked a smile.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you,” Dora said flatly.

Harry burst into giggles. “You’re a chatterbox when you’re nervous,” he explained. “No, the other firsties are back in the Common Room. I’m here for Fred, George, and Lee. Lee made me promise to hear some of his jokes and laugh.”

“This isn’t part of your prank war with Fred and George, right?” she asked, worried. Her hair turned gray. Just a few days ago, Fred and George had laced the toffee at the Hufflepuff Table with some Engorgement Charm-type enchantment. Harry hadn’t been affected by it because he disliked toffee, despite whatever he had told Fred and George. However, Dora had practically been raised on toffee. Her tongue had ended up looking like a giraffe’s neck after dinner. Even her metamorphmagus abilities couldn’t save her from the laughter.

“Of course not,” he said unconvincingly. “I’m just here for some ideas.”

She glanced at him nervously, not sure if he was tricking her into believing that he was going to do a prank here or if he actually wasn’t going to prank Fred and George from the stands.

“There are a bunch of open seats right over there,” Harry said, pointing at Cedric Diggory who was sitting by himself three rows down.

There are also two open seats right next to us, Tonks thought, wondering why Harry had chosen these two specific seats. Really hope this isn’t part of a prank. She said, “Sure. Mind if we sit here, Cedric?” 

Cedric glanced at them with his easygoing grin. “Of course! Diksha’s going to stop by too, if that’s alright with you guys? We’ll be discussing Quidditch strategies.”

“Diksha’s our Quidditch Team Captain,” Dora explained to Harry. That meant that Cedric would be the next captain, if Diksha was taking the time to explain things to him.

“How’s seventh year going, Tonks?” Cedric asked.

“I already sent off my application to the Auror Academy, so I’m just waiting to hear back,” she said nonchalantly, hoping to mask her anxieties and insecurities with a grin. (Unfortunately, her hair betrayed her and turned a dull gray.)

“You’re a good witch, Dora,” Harry told her seriously. “They should be honored to have you.”

“You used my name!” she crowed instead of responding. Harry rolled his eyes. “I knew you could learn!”

“Harry’s right,” Cedric said, and Dora noticed out of the corner of her eye that Harry’s cheeks became a little pink. Interesting. “You’re the most talented duellist in your year, and my dad tells me that the DMLE pays a lot of attention to those rankings.”

DMLE? Harry mouthed at her.

“The Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Dora explained for his benefit. “Thanks, Cedric.”

“He gets a thanks and I don’t?” Harry asked with mock-outrage, putting his hand on his chest as though he had been grievously wounded.

“Thanks,” Dora said. “To both of you.”

“Harry, first year is rough for everybody,” Cedric said. “If you ever need any help or someone to talk to, feel free to come to me.”

“T-thank you,” Harry said, looking a bit like a cherry.

“I’m sure there’s a lot you can help him with,” Dora said slyly to Cedric. She winked at Harry, who hissed at her like a feral cat.

“Oh? Are you alright, Harry? What’s going on?” Cedric asked, concerned.

“I’m doing fine,” Harry said quickly, recovering his composure. “Well, outside the Potions classroom at least,” he added as a joke.

Cedric laughed . “Snape isn’t exactly a nice professor. Even my Slytherin friends are scared of him.”

Dora nodded. “Just a piece of advice from a seventh year, Snape does not get better. If I didn’t want to be an Auror, I would never have even considered taking N.E.W.T. Potions with him.”

“Are you talking about Snape?” Diksha asked, plopping herself down next to Cedric. “I have so many stories about him.”

“Bet I have more,” Dora shot back.

“How much do you want to bet?” Harry asked eagerly, leaning forwards.

By the time the game starts, Diksha lost two Sickles—one to Harry, and one to Dora—after Dora’s thirteen tales stomped her seven stories. Harry gave the Sickle back, saying it was all in good fun. (Dora didn’t. That was her money, earned through years of painful lessons with Snape.) Even after Fred shot a Bludger at Slytherin’s Seeker, Terrence Higgs, they were all chortling about Snape’s batty attitude.

“Why doesn’t Higgs just take the Golden Snitch and end it already?” Harry asked. “Or Juan, for that matter.”

Diksha shot him a strange look. “They haven’t spotted it yet, obviously.”

“It’s right there,” Harry said, pointing at empty air.

No, wait. There was something fluttering there.

“It’s the Snitch,” Cedric breathed. “Harry, you’re amazing.” Harry flushed a deep, scarlet red at that. Interesting.

They both glanced at Harry with the same predatory look. Harry didn’t notice, still caught up on Cedric’s praise.

“Hold up,” Dora said. “Not to sound like an auror already, but the rules say that first-years aren’t allowed to have their own brooms. Plus, you don’t even know if he can fly very well.”

“Well, can you?” Diksha asked.

“I suppose,” Harry said. “I’m still new to the whole concept of flying though.”

“You can still be the reserve Seeker,” Diksha decided. “You can use the school brooms. Come to Quidditch practice, and if you’re good enough to beat our current reserve Seeker, you’ll get the spot.”

It didn’t take much for Harry to show he was better than Juan Alvarez, the current reserve Seeker. A few loops later, on the school brooms no less, Diksha was screaming in approval.

Dora couldn’t agree more herself. She had been on the school brooms since she was a first year student, just like every other non-Quidditch player. Considering Harry’s skill, she thought that he might even outpace Cedric within a few months.

She saw the gears turning in Cedric’s head and knew immediately that he was planning for at least the next five years. Frankly, Quidditch at Hogwarts seemed more like a game of Wizarding Chess than a sport to her sometimes.

Thinking of all of the plotting, Dora couldn’t help but frown. This reminded her of Oliver Wood, who was an absolute lunatic about Quidditch. The one time she had gone with him to Hogsmeade, he had talked about Quidditch strategies the whole time. 

If he hadn’t been so married to Quidditch… 

What a pity.