Chapter Text
Harry and the Tonks family stood between Platforms Nine and Ten, triple checking that everything was in place.
“Now, you two didn’t forget anything did you?” Ted said, and Harry and Dora both groaned.
Ted had already gone through a mental roster of all the various items they were likely to forget before they had even gotten to King’s Cross, but now he was anxious.
Perhaps there was something he had forgotten to remind them to not forget.
“Well I wouldn’t know if I did, isn’t that point?” She stuck her tongue out at her father, and Ted returned it right back. Andromeda rolled her eyes, and Harry watched the whole interaction play out before his eyes with a smile.
Even if he acted fed up with Ted’s mothering, he was secretly quite pleased by it. Sirius was great, and Harry loved living with him, but it was more like living with an older brother. It just wasn’t the same. Sirius knew it too more than likely- they just knew never to put it into words.
With the Tonks, though, it reminded him of how things used to be. Before.
“Yuck it up now, missy. We’ll be the one’s laughing when you beg us to send you socks because you’d forgotten to pack them.” Ted seemed to be really winding himself up into a rant until Andromeda gave a polite cough.
“We’re on a bit of a schedule here. Might be best to get a move on.” She gave Ted a significant look who seemed to wilter a little under her stare. He sighed.
“Yes, you’re right. Now remember you have to take a running-” Ted wasn’t even done talking before Dora was speeding off with her cart, running as fast as she could.
Right before she crossed the threshold to get onto the platform she stumbled. Her cart was pushed forward through the pillar, and she tripped face first through not a second later.
Andromeda groaned as Ted snorted in amusement. She gave Ted a look, who tried to school his face without any real success.
“She gets that from your side of the family, you know.” Ted was laughing as he said it but Harry winced all the same. Ted seemed to realize what his mouth had spit out before his brain had reined it in. He rushed after Dora, disappearing through the pillar. Soon it was just Andromeda and Harry. They stood there for a moment in a somewhat awkward silence.
Harry liked Andromeda, but she could be… prickly. Especially when it came to the Blacks.
It was half the reason why he spent so much time with the Tonks while Sirius was at work- Andromeda was the only family Sirius had that he could trust.
After a second or two, Andromeda gave him a nudge.
“Might be the idea to follow them, Harry.” Andromeda said this with a warm smile, but it didn’t stop Harry from feeling a tad embarrassed. He gave a quick nod and began rushing towards it with his cart.
Before he hit the wall he closed his eyes- and when he opened them again it was to the beautiful sight of a large Scarlet Engine billowing multi-colored smoke into the air.
The smoke came out individual puffs of red, blue, green, and yellow before all of them coming out together in a raucous mix.
Hundreds of people were milling about. Owls and other birds of prey made noises in their cages, cats and dogs seemed to mingle together in peace, and Harry was assaulted on all sides by a cacophony of sound.
Everywhere he looked there were families hugging and crying and giving their final goodbyes. Staring at them made him feel a bitter stab at his heart.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Harry nearly jumped at the noise and turned towards to see that Andromeda had passed through behind him while he was distracted. Harry nodded because he wasn’t sure that his words wouldn’t betray him at that moment.
Andromeda didn’t seem to notice, or was gracious enough in pretending.
Her eyes were scanning the crowd, looking for Ted and Dora, when she seemed to realize something.
“Hmm. It’s strange not seeing any Aurors here.” Harry wasn’t particularly sure why that would be strange at all- Aurors were always off doing things, saving people or doing detective work. It was why Sirius wasn’t here to see him off, he had a shift he couldn’t beg out of (And something that Harry was peeved about even if he wouldn’t admit it to Sirius).
“What’s so strange about that? Don’t the Aurors have better things to do?”
“Near the end of the war, the Ministry was afraid that You-Know-Who would attack the platform. Always wanted to have some at the ready. I think they mostly used it to just be seen doing something. Too many of his supporters had children here, there would’ve been too much collateral damage if he had.” Andromeda said this very softly, and Harry had to strain to even hear her. Even now speaking about You-Know-Who was taboo.
Ted didn’t like when she talked about the war with Harry, thinking that it was too traumatic to bring things like that up. He’d overheard them arguing once about it, with Ted saying that the ‘wounds were too fresh’.
Harry liked him, but sometimes Ted treated Harry as if he were fine china that one wrong move would crack irrevocably. Andromeda never coddled him and he appreciated that immensely.
Before she could say anything else, she heard Ted and Dora calling for them from a bit of ways down the platform. Andromeda shook her head, and suddenly was back to her cheerful self.
When they got there, Dora had a leg propped up on her cart to examine the damage she had done to it. One of her stockings had a large gash, and her pale knee was protruding through it but was otherwise fine.
Andromeda frowned when she saw it, but you could tell from her eyes that she was amused. She pulled her wand out and gave a little swish, and suddenly the stocking was right as rain.
“And what was stopping you from doing that, hmm?” Andromeda said, as she looked at Ted.
“I thought it was a badge of honour. Gave her a look of character.” Andromeda raised an eyebrow, and Ted’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Harry always found it amazing how much Andromeda could mock Ted with only a look.
“Spoilsport.” He muttered, as Dora giggled behind him. Andromeda turned towards the two soon-to-be first years.
“Now, you two best be off. Stick together, don’t get in trouble- I mean you, Nymphadora- and remember to write.” They said their goodbyes and hugged, and Harry could’ve sworn he’d seen a few tears in Dora’s eyes but knew better to ever say anything about that- her retribution would be swift.
They got their trunks and made their way onto the train. Harry could feel some type of electricity that seemed to flow through his whole body from the center of his back to the back of his neck.
He’d never been so excited in his life. Harry had longed to be at Hogwarts for as long as he could remember, and very soon that wish would be a reality.
~//~
They had found an empty compartment to themselves and had quickly gotten situated and their trunks tucked away.
“I’ll be right back, Harry, hold down the fort. I’m going to go looking for Sarah.” Before he could say anything in response Dora was rushing out of the compartment and on the hunt for her friends. Harry would’ve been happy to go with her, but oh well.
He guessed being alone in a compartment wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He could spend time reading, maybe take a nap-
The door swung open with a boy popping his head in.
“Is this compartment open?” Harry shrugged, and tried not to show how pleased he was to finally have someone new to talk to. Dora was great but she couldn’t stand quidditch, and that was about as fatal of a flaw as anyone could have.
“Are you a first year?” Harry asked, and the boy nodded his head eagerly before extending a hand to shake.
“I’m Ben- very glad to meet you.”
“Harry, likewise.” When their hands met Harry realized that Ben’s was covered in sweat. Harry quickly retracted his hand and tried to hide his grimace but by the downturn of the other boy’s face he wasn’t particularly successful.
“Sorry! My hands sweat when I’m nervous. Well my whole body does, but especially my hands. This is all just very new and scary to me.”
“Muggleborn, I take it? I get that, especially since you don’t have any experience with,” Harry waved his hand around, “all this. You’ll be okay though, Ben. Hogwarts isn’t meant to be a scary place and neither is magic. It’s the most wonderful thing in the world.” Harry was rather pleased with himself, thinking his words were quite comforting, but Ben seemed unconvinced.
“That’s easy for you to say. Professor McGonagall showed up with my letter and turned my favorite chair into a dog- I had nightmares about it for weeks!” The boy really seemed to be working himself into a tizzy, and Harry was regretting ever letting him sit down.
“Why would that give you nightmares? Transfiguration is incredible. Just the other day I saw someone change a credenza into a lion. It was brilliant!” Sirius and Dora both hated it. Both of them always tripped and knocked into it. Andromeda loved it though and hadn’t taken kindly to Sirius’ wand work or his suggestion that it was “put to better use this way”.
His bottom two legs had been transfigured into the wooden legs like the credenza for half an hour, it’d been great.
Ben jumped to his feet and began pacing, interrupting Harry’s train of thought.
“So the fact that inanimate objects can be turned into animals, and animals can be turned into inanimate objects doesn’t fill you with a complete and all encompassing terror?” Ben said, as sweat seemed to be pouring off his body. Harry was surprised puddles weren’t forming at his feet.
“...No, not really.” Ben’s eyes seemed to be bulging out of his skull when he heard that.
“We’re all walking around with tools of destruction in our pockets that give us power over life and death and turn us into deities. I honestly don’t know how I’ll ever get a good night’s rest again.”
“ I think there’re potions for that, mate. I didn’t realize ‘power over life or death’ was something they taught first years either.” Harry said, very much wishing he had a calming draught for Ben- or frankly, for himself. Already he was trying to think of ways to get out of this conversation as gracefully as possible.
“Don’t even get me started-”
“Harry! I couldn’t find Sarah so maybe we should just wait here…”, Dora trailed off as she noticed Harry frantically shaking his head, “or maybe we should keep looking?”
“I’m gonna go look for my friend now. I’ll uh, I’ll be seeing you.” Harry walked out of there as quickly as his legs would take him.
“So what was that about?”
“I don’t even know. I don’t want to know. Lets just hope we don’t end up in his house.”
~//~
Harry had grown up on stories of Hogwarts, and thought that when he finally arrived he’d be able to picture every nook and talking portrait and all of the scenery combined. He’d been preparing himself for disappointment, because how could Hogwarts ever live up to his dreams?
When he arrived and finally saw the castle jutting into the sky, all of its glory on display, he knew. All of his imagination and fantasies paled in comparison to the real thing.
Hogwarts was the very definition of magical. It had taken Harry’s breath away to glimpse it for the first time, as they crossed the Lake in their small little dinghy. Staring up at the enchanted ceiling, shooting stars streaking across it, and he was in danger of it happening again.
“Potter, Harry!”
Hogwarts was so incredible, it had completely distracted him from the matter at hand. Now the fear sunk in.
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
“Potter, did she say?”
“Is he related to who I think he is?”
The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second, he was looking at the black inside of a hat. He waited.
“Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. A good mind, but not the sort to crave knowledge for knowledge’s sake. Plenty of courage, my goodness yes, life has forced you to be brave. Perhaps Gryffindor…”
The first thing he thought of was that somehow the boy from the train who seemed afraid of anything and everything had been sorted into Gryffindor. Harry definitely didn’t want to share a dorm with him for seven years, and frankly had some doubts about the effectiveness of the Sorting Hat.
“I do not comment on another’s sorting, but I never sort someone wrong. Just as I know that that boy could do great things in Gryffindor, just as surely do I know that so could you.”
Harry thought about the whispers he’d heard before. If he was sorted into Gryffindor, he’d never be able to escape out from his family’s shadow. More than anything in the world he wanted to be known for his own deeds and not by his brother’s or father’s.
The Hat seemed to be considering him closer now. “You know the value of hard work and loyalty, but neither is what you would define yourself by...Quite the thirst to prove yourself, though. More than anything, you seem an ambitious sort.”
Harry cottoned on to what the Hat was saying…. But it was too late.
“Better be SLYTHERIN!”
He walked in a daze towards the Slytherin table. He should’ve accepted Gryffindor, fought for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Slytherin…Harry knew the house’s reputation. You-Know-Who’s most loyal and fervent supporters had been from Slytherin, and now he would be sharing a dormitory with them.
He looked at the sea of faces on the Slytherin bench, and he wondered whose family members had been there the night he watched his family get killed.
He sat amongst the other first years who had already been sorted, and Harry felt all of their eyes trained on him. It was hard to resist the urge to squirm. No one said anything at first, until a boy with slicked back brown hair and a large pointed nose cleared his throat. He had been the first to be sorted into Slytherin, and Harry thought his name was Astor.
“Harry Potter, eh? Any relation to James Potter?” All the others looked on in interest, with even some older students seemingly paying half-attention. Dread welled up inside Harry.
“Yes,” he said quietly, “he was my father.” That sparked the inquisition from all the students around him, with everyone too focused on muttering amongst themselves to notice when a girl with wild untamed hair named ‘Snyde, Merula’ was sorted into Slytherin. She joined the table with a scowl, put out by being ignored in favor of Harry.
"How'd ya Da kill the Dark Lord?"
"You're the Boy Who Lived!"
"Is your brother really learning dark magic in China?"
"Fuh, China- you idiot. Everybody knows he's working for the Rebels in Norway!"
People were peppering him with questions about his father, wanting to know this or that. Too many voices and too many questions thrown at him at once, to the point where Harry couldn’t make out a single one.
A part of him just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide, but he knew he still had hours of this to wade through before he could go to bed.
“You’re the one they found hiding in a closet, eh? Crying and wailing like a baby because of a scratch on your forehead.” Merula said this with a smirk as Harry’s head snapped towards her direction.
A hush fell over the group as nobody dared say a word. Harry couldn’t contain the flash of anger across his face or stop his fists from clenching. Merula noticed, and her smirk grew even wider.
Before Harry could respond he was saved by an older girl clearing her throat. Her hair was a short bob with blue highlights, and braided in the front so as not to get in her eyes. One of the newly sorted girls, Ismelda something or other, muttered that she looked like a Mudblood- but the older girl paid her no mind.
“I’d really like to enjoy the sorting without all you chattering chittering children. Why don’t we save the interrogation for the common room, ey?” She made sure to give a significant look to all the Slytherins who had been sorted, and even gave a warning glance to a few of the older years too. She flashed a toothy grin when she saw that everyone was sufficiently cowed.
“Smashing.” She turned back towards the boys she was sitting by, jumping back into their debate on which students they’d want sorted into Slytherin based on future Quidditch value.
Everyone ignored Harry after that and talked amongst themselves, though many still shot him considering looks. Harry thanked Merlin for the small mercy of silence.
Harry was vaguely aware of the rest of the sorting, just enough to notice “Tonks, Nymphadora” landing in Hufflepuff. He tried to catch her eye as she walked over to her table but Dora was in a world of her own making. They didn’t always get along but… she was really the only friend he had. He hoped his sorting wouldn’t stop them from being friendly.
‘Winger, Talbott’ was put into Ravenclaw, and suddenly the sorting was over. Professor McGonagall, the dark haired and stern faced witch who had been the one to initially explain the sorting, rolled up her scroll of names and took the Sorting Hat away.
Professor Dumbledore sprung up from his throne-like seat at the High Table. It never failed to amaze Harry how spry-legged Dumbledore was, especially since he had only just celebrated his 103rd birthday a month ago. He was even wearing the same robes he’d worn for his party, royal purple with stars twinkling about and comets shooting across his sleeves.
Dumbledore beamed at the students. He was as happy as Harry had ever seen him.
“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! It is my great honor and privilege to stand before you as your headmaster. Another year has come, one further from the dark days of the past,” his eyes seemed to linger on Harry before scanning the crowd.
“One more year closer to the bright futures that await you all. A few announcements before we begin. Professor Antonius Yost has agreed to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position- let’s all give Professor Yost a round of applause. I know I speak for all of us when I say we wish you the best of luck.”
The pale and skinny man had already seemed nervous about being there, and Dumbledore’s words of encouragement seemed to have the opposite effect on him.
“A message to both new students and old. The forbidden forest remains just that- and I would very much like for you all to avoid the inevitable harm and danger should you be foolhardy enough to wander in. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that your wands are tools for learning and not to be used for mischief in the halls.”
“The jealous squib probably told the headmaster to take away our wands when we’re not in class.” One of the older years said, and several others murmured their agreement.
“Finally, Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term, and anyone interested in trying out for their house teams should speak to Madame Hooch. Now then, enjoy the feast and be merry, and fill your stomachs to your heart’s content!”
~//~
After the feast, the two prefects Felix Rosier and Victoria Selwyn led the twelve first years into the dungeons. They reached a stretch of bare stone, and with a whisper of ‘Gloria’ and an admonishment to make sure no one ever heard the password or found the common room, they were led inside.
The room was a long, low underground chamber with stone walls and ceiling from which round green lamps were hanging on chains. There were black sofas and chairs spread throughout, tapestries hanging with the deeds of famous Slytherins from ages past, and a roaring fire underneath an elaborately carved mantelpiece.
Snake paintings, carvings, and decor were rampant. For a house known for cunning it certainly didn’t have any subtlety when it came to decorations.
Rosier and Selwyn both had the classic Pureblood look- aristocratic features, high cheekbones and narrow noses. Pale too, though that’s no surprise when your common room is in an underground dungeon. Selwyn was fidgeting and looked uncomfortable standing before them. Rosier seemed very much to be in his element.
“Normally we would just direct you to your dorm rooms and leave it at that. We agreed though that addressing the Hippogriff in the room was a necessity.” His eyes were scanning the group as he said this, and Harry was somewhat impressed in how resolutely Rosier was in avoiding making eye contact with him. Very subtle.
“All eyes have been on Slytherin lately, and I’m sure you’re all smart enough to know why. People are looking for reasons to attack us and besmirch Slytherin’s name. You will not give them any reason to. Keep your heads down. Do not go looking for trouble, or I promise you- I will make sure trouble finds you. I will not hear about you trading spells in the hallway, especially with one another. If I do, you won’t like my response. Now go to bed.”
None of the boys talked as they were directed towards their dorm room, but once the door closed it was like the dam was broken. The hawk-faced boy from before, Astor, was the first to speak up.
“Some of us already know each other, but not all. We should all introduce ourselves,” He said as he pointed towards a tall and rake thin boy with a very dull expression, “starting with you.”
“I’m Matthew Bletchley.” All of the boys looked expectant for something a bit more substantial, but Bletchley merely shrugged. Astor blanched.
“Well, okay then. Who’re you?” He pointed towards a dark haired Indian boy, who seemed to be positively buzzing with energy.
“Rowan Khanna, I’m super excited to meet you all and I do hope we’ll all be good frien-” Already, Astor was bored with him.
“Okay, thank you. And you?” He pointed towards a short and stout boy with spiky brown hair and whose uniform was somehow already rumpled.
“Barnaby Lee’s the name. All of my family have been sorted into Slytherin for the last ten generations.” He didn’t sound particularly enthused as he said it, but sounded it off as if it were a fact that had been drilled into his head as important long ago.
“Pleasure to meet you, boys, I’m Astor Bellchant. My family owns the Diagon Dispensary.” Said Astor, who puffed up and was obviously quite pleased with himself.
“Since the thirteenth century, Bellchant, as if that’s any great achievement.” To Harry, that did in fact seem like quite the achievement for a family, but evidently not to the pallid looking boy who said it. Astor sneered.
“We all know your family is as old as dirt, Scabior. If only your family had as many galleons to their name as they did years.”the newly named Scabior glared daggers at Astor.
The silence from the rest of the room was deafening and uncomfortable, before both boys erupted into laughter and shook hands.
“Good to see you, Warren, was worried you might get sorted into Hufflepuff like that cousin of yours.” Astor said it with a smirk, and Warren scowled in response but said nothing. Harry shook his head. Purebloods are weird.
Astor finally turned towards the last boy in the room.
“Well we all know who you are, Potter. I’ve been dying to know since you got sorted- how’d your father do it?” All the boys seemed eager to find out. Harry raked a hand through his hair, already dreading how this night was turning out.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly watching. Honestly, I don’t remember much of anything from that night.”
All the boys were looking at him with wide disbelieving eyes.
“The worst Dark Lord in fifty years gets defeated by your own father, and you haven’t the faintest idea how?”
“I don’t know, Bellchant, I was a bit preoccupied with not dying. I’m sorry that answer doesn’t satisfy you, but it’s the only one I have.” Harry knew he shouldn’t have gotten snippy, but he couldn’t help it. The other boy rolled his eyes.
“That girl was right. You were hiding in a broom closet. Pft.” The way Astor said it, so dismissive, made Harry’s blood boil.
“I’d like to see you do differently, you’d have been sobbing worse than I bet Potter was.” Scabior was smirking as he said it, and Bletchley laughed as the two boys then began arguing on what they would’ve done in Harry’s shoes.
Harry silently seethed, but resolved to not start a fight with the others on his very first night. He began getting ready for bed and ignored everyone else.
Soon enough everyone seemed to be tired out. No one talked as they got ready to bed. Several shot Harry looks, some considering and some venomous, but none seemed willing to approach him again.
He fell asleep though it was anything but peaceful. Maybe it was all the talk about his father and his family.
That night he dreamed of Halloween.
It had been a recurring dream for months afterwards. Disjointed, only bits and pieces. His father shouting, Uncle Kevin and Uncle Karl dead at his feet. His mum’s screams as she pushed him to go downstairs, begging him to hide. Someone crying in the distance. Flashes of green light, and unblinking red eyes.
And then nothing, only darkness that seemed to have no beginning or end.
When Harry awoke in the morning he realized that he had been crying in his sleep. He hoped more than anything that no one had noticed. If anyone had, no one said a word.