Chapter Text
“Hufflepuff!”
A loud cheer emerges from the Gryffindor table and Harry clamps down the urge to pull the sorting hat over his face in frustration. His brother can be a bit much sometimes. A lot of times, to be honest. He can understand Alfie being supportive, but he doesn’t have to show it all the time, especially not when all of Hogwarts’ attention is focused on Harry. He adds one more count of ‘jinxes for Alfie’ in his head and calmly returns the Sorting Hat to the stool before walking down to the Hufflepuff table.
Harry sits down next to a blonde boy he had never met before and hopes that no one tries to bother him, not interested in playing nice with the other Hufflepuffs right now. He watches the next sorting, still wondering how he ends up in Hufflepuff. He is not kind or hardworking or fair or whatever it is the Hufflepuff house represents. But Harry isn’t really the type to argue with the Sorting Hat so, well, here he is. He guesses he is loyal, only to his brother, that is. But surely being loyal to one person isn’t enough to be put in Hufflepuff, right? He had hoped to be put in Gryffindor alongside his brother, not that Harry feels like a Gryffindor himself, but only because he doesn’t know how else to make sure his brother doesn’t end up in too much trouble otherwise.
Smith and Macmillan join the Hufflepuff table not long afterward and Harry tries his best to stop himself from groaning out loud. He already met them one too many times during social events. Perks of being the twin brother of the Boy-Who-Lived and all. Considering his new housemates, he doesn’t put much hope of peace in Hufflepuff. They’re already putting up their nice smiling sucking-up face that makes Harry want to puke in disgust. Urgh.
The sorting ends with Zabini, Blaise ending in Slytherin. Harry is only glad that finally dinner will be served. Only to be disappointed once again by the Headmaster deciding to give a speech just now. Why couldn’t he wait until after dinner? Surely nothing he’s going to say is more important than dinner. Harry is sure that he dislikes the Headmaster a tad bit more just for that and decides to just tune out whatever words coming out of the Headmaster’s mouth.
And finally, finally , dinner is served. Harry can faintly hear Macmillan already calling his name and he ignores him to focus on the food in front of him. Harry can’t socialise nicely when he’s hungry anyway, everyone knows that. He hopes that there will be treacle tart for dessert. Roasted chicken and potatoes are good but desserts are the main star of any meal.
The blonde boy that sat next to Harry turns out to be a muggleborn named Justin Finch-Fletchley, who doesn’t know anything about Harry or Alfred Potter, the Golden Boys of the Wizarding World. And even after hearing the story from the other Hufflepuff boys, he just brushed it off and didn't stare or gawk at Harry like the rest of the students, which is a nice change of scenery, in Harry’s opinion. That got him a point on Harry’s list of people-that-maybe-not-that-bad. See, this is why Harry is having doubts about himself being in Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs don't divide people into annoying or acceptable categories.
But anyway, here he is, and Harry isn’t that troubled with being in Hufflepuff to demand a resorting or anything like that. And when Harry gets into the Hufflepuff common room, he decides that, okay, maybe, just a tiny bit of maybe, he does belong in Hufflepuff. So many comfortable-looking couches and blankets and throws all over the place that Harry could see himself grabbing one throw for himself and hiding in one of the countless nooks in the room. He could see himself having a peaceful read with a hot chocolate in a corner with no one to bother him. The prefects even told them that the kitchen is right next door! Harry is sure that with time, he could bribe the house elves to provide him with an endless supply of treacle tart and hot chocolate.
The prefects send them to the dorm not long after giving them a brief tour of the room and a list of house rules that Harry doesn’t really pay attention to. Harry quickly changes his robes and shuts himself in his bed with the curtain closed before MacMillan can drag him into some pointless conversation. He can faintly hear Alfie scolding him for being too impolite on his first night, but he really is too tired to spend more time with too many people. And speaking of his brother, yep, there it is, Harry feels a faint buzz on the bedside table.
Harry picks up the handheld mirror that Sirius gave him and Alfie, to cause whatever mischief and mayhem they desire, he told them. Not that Harry plans to do that, but Alfie might, and Harry will have to be there to clean up whatever mess his stupid brother left. Alfie’s face shows up right after Harry says his name to activate the mirror.
“Harry!”
And Harry is so very glad that he had the sense to cast a silencing charm on his bed beforehand.
“Merlin, Al, no need to shout,” Harry sighs.
“You’re a ‘Puff! I didn’t see that coming,” shouts Alfie back.
“And you’re a Gryffindor, just like the whole world predicted.”
“Well one of us has to continue the legacy somehow,” Alfie grins. Harry smiles softly at her brother. Leave it to Alfie to always live up to the expectations. Harry just has to make sure that Alfie doesn’t burn himself out trying to please everyone. Honestly, Alfie should’ve been the one in Hufflepuff, not Harry. But Alfie is also a reckless and brave little idiot, so yeah, to the Gryffindor house he goes.
“Harry!”
Harry closes his book and shifts slightly to the right in a swift practised move that ends up with Alfie slamming down to the bench instead of him. The number of times Harry lost the page of the book he’s been reading has taught him a very important lesson, which is to always, always , be aware of when Alfie is coming at him. Harry ruffles Alfie’s hair as he sat up next to him with a pout.
“Not even a hug, Harry? You’re being mean,” Alfie whines and Harry sticks out his tongue at his brother.
“Someone has to be mean to you so your already inflated head doesn’t get even bigger,” says Harry.
“Hey! My head is perfectly sized, thank you very much,” replies Alfie. Harry hums and wraps his fingers around Alfie’s head.
“Nope, it’s definitely getting bigger. The Gryffindors must have spoiled you too much already,” says Harry with an overly fake concerned voice. Alfie shoves him in retaliation and Harry can’t help but giggles at the annoyed face his brother is making. He sees his brother trying and failing to keep his laughter and they both end up just smiling at each other. Giving playful nudges every now and then before sitting back against the wall.
For the first time since coming to Hogwarts, Harry feels that he can truly relax now. It was just him and his brother here in an empty courtyard with vines climbing up the pillars and an unused fountain in the centre. Harry counts himself lucky to be able to find such a hidden place on one of his walks from trying to find his way in this huge castle. He tries to show it to his brother afterward and only manages to get lost again. Harry isn’t even sure how his brother found him here now. It is only by pure luck that Harry manages to find it again. Hogwarts is huge .
Harry leans his head against his brother’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and sighs. He can’t believe he has survived three weeks without being with his brother. Sure, they saw each other in the hall or the few classes that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff shared together, but they didn’t really get to spend any time together. And they were always together before Hogwarts. Harry doesn’t think he ever spent this long away from each other before. Harry misses him. Being in different houses sucks.
“You okay?” Alfie asks, rubbing Harry’s arm softly. Harry hums in reply.
“Too many people. You know I don’t like crowds.”
“Yeah,” Alfie says, “but it’s exciting, isn’t it?”
Of course, Alfie would find all of this exciting. A huge castle with maze-like corridors and endless rooms to explore, this is a dream come true for Alfie. He is the one who always drags Harry around the Potter Manor and its surrounding forest for ‘new adventures’, after all. Not that Harry wasn’t amazed by the castle, though. It’s just all the people inside it that stress him out.
“Sure,” Harry shrugs, “if only the other kids would stop all the gawking and staring.”
Alfie chuckles, “It will pass.”
“Hopefully,” Harry sighs.
“Surely the ‘puffs' aren't that bad, right?” asks Alfie, concern in his voice. “They’re supposed to be the ‘nice’ house, after all.”
“I got Smith and Macmillan in my dorm, take a guess, Al,” Harry rolls his eyes. Honestly, Harry isn’t sure he would be able to survive seven more years of hearing MacMillan’s whiny voice every day. He already cast the silencing spell on him one too many times to be polite. His brother would argue that a silencing spell isn’t polite at all.
“Oh, right,” Harry could see Alfie’s grimaces even with his eyes closed, “but at least you were spared of having Ronald Weasley in your dorm. That idiot really doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’.”
It’s Harry’s turn to grimace now. “I don’t know where he got the idea, but he was convinced that he and I were now best friends and wouldn’t leave me alone. I can’t even go to the bathroom in peace, Harry!” Alfie complains.
“That’s what you get from being too nice, Al,” Harry laughs. “You should’ve been the one in Hufflepuff.”
“Yeah no, way too chill for me. You know I’m the bravest and most heroic person in the world. I’m the epitome of Gryffindor,” Alfie boasts loudly.
“Aaaand that’s your head getting even bigger, Al,” Harry smacks his face away lightly and Alfie just laughs, hair tousling slightly exposing his forehead. Harry’s eyes focus immediately on his scar, and his mark.
In Harry’s opinion, Alfie got the coolest soulmark ever. Spread all over the left side of his face, enveloping the lightning-shaped scar left from whatever happened the night they supposedly vanquished the Dark Lord. It wasn’t always shaped that way, of course, just like how soulmarks tend to be. It started out ugly, looking like a large black bruise covering his forehead all the way to his left cheek. It draws everyone’s attention to him whenever they go out in public, and gets him stuck being the more noticeable twin. Alfie’s cheerful and outgoing personality certainly helps boost his popularity even more.
But as people grow, soulmarks begin to change shape into the symbol that they will eventually share with their soulmate, and turn colour when they finally meet their soulmate. The mark on Alfie’s face has thinned out from its previously large shape, to now just outlining the scar. Harry brings his fingers up to trace Alfie’s mark and notices that some of the lines have separated into tiny little spots on the lower part of his scar. That was new. Alfie would meet his soulmate soon, then. His mark has been shifting its shape faster than before.
Harry doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s already hard being separated into different houses and not being able to stay by his brother’s side all the time. Harry doesn’t want to lose his brother even more by having to share him with his soulmate. But he also can’t keep his brother from his soulmate. That would be unfair to Alfie. Everyone says that meeting and being with your soulmate is the best feeling in the world. Harry can’t take that away from Alfie. It’s times like this that make Harry heavily envy the twins that share each other’s soulmark, like the Weasley twins. They don’t have to worry about losing their twin to another person.
“I think it’s a constellation,” says Alfie, breaking Harry’s thoughts.
“Maybe. It looks too randomly spread out to be one, or maybe it’s not one that I know,” Harry shrugs. “You’ll have to ask Sirius to be sure.”
“Yeah, and he’ll tell me it’s something stupid like the dolphin or something as a prank.”
“Hey, dolphins are cute!” argues Harry. Alfie rolls his eyes, giving Harry a moment to examine the changes in his mark.
“It does look like it’s shifting pretty quickly, isn’t it?”
“ You’ll meet them soon, I think,” Harry agrees, “though I haven’t seen anyone with a similar mark on their face here in Hogwarts. Maybe they’re not a student here.”
“Or a younger year coming to Hogwarts next year,” replies Alfie excitedly.
“Sure.” Harry can’t help but smile back at Alfie’s enthusiasm.
“Show me yours?” asks Alfie.
Harry shrugs and turns his back on Alfie. He removes his robe and opens a few buttons on his shirt to lower it, showing the mark sitting right in between his shoulder, spreading on the upper part of his back to his nape. As much as Harry admires Alfie’s mark, he is glad that his own mark is hidden out of everyone’s view. It becomes something private to Harry, only shared with his brother. He doesn’t even show it to his parents, not that they have the time to do something as unimportant as looking at Harry’s mark anyway.
Harry’s fear of being left by his brother is a bit lessened by the thought that his own soulmate is also out there somewhere, waiting for him. Harry might not be as excited as Alfie at the prospect of a soulmate, but he won’t lie and say that he’s not at least a little bit curious about his own soulmate. Though Harry isn’t sure that his soulmate would be able to take his brother’s place as the number one person in Harry’s life. He’ll just have to wait and see, then.
“Yours has shifted a little bit, too.” Harry could feel Alfie’s finger tracing his mark. “It has thinned out on the lower part, getting pointier. The upper part is fading, too. I can see tiny curving lines sticking out, still blurry though.”
“It wasn’t shifting as fast as yours, though. I’ll still have quite some time to go before meeting them,” Harry says, shrugging up his clothes.
“But you’ll meet them eventually,” Alfie smiles brightly at Harry, “just like how I will meet mine.”
“And we’ll both be happy with our soulmates. And even then, we will still be together,” he takes Harry’s hand and squeezes it reassuringly, “I’ll make sure of it.”
And Harry can’t help but put his trust in Alfie’s words, as always.
If Harry were asked to rank his favourite classes in Hogwarts, number one on the list would be Astronomy. Boring as the class was, Harry likes the peace that comes with watching the night sky. Harry doesn’t even bother paying attention to Professor Sinistra’s lecture, Sirius has already taught him everything he needs to know to pass through seven years of Astronomy classes, anyway. If anything, Professor Sinistra’s calm voice helps bring the comforting peace Harry felt during the class. And none of the other students were awake enough to make any ruckus.
The second on the list would be Herbology. The chaos in the greenhouse brings another kind of peace to Harry, and he is somewhat good with plants. Not a prodigy like Neville, but he is at least capable of taking care of the plants in his garden back at Potter Manor. Plants, he finds, are really good at staying quiet, if they are provided with the right care.
His third favourite class is History of Magic. Just because he could peacefully take naps in class. Okay, so maybe his list of favourite classes is a bit more biassed to the class's ability to give him peace and quiet, and not really about the subject. But, well, Harry does like his peace. He doesn’t get much of it, being a public figure, so he indulges in his moments of peace whenever he gets the chance.
Transfiguration and Charms are fine, he guesses. Those classes are easy enough and Harry put in enough work to get good grades. Potions might be fun, if Professor Snape wasn’t trying too hard to be such a distraction. Harry understands the bad history between the professor and his dad. Professor Snape hates his dad, and really, Harry understands that. Harry hates his Dad too, maybe, a little bit. But he doesn’t have to bring that into the class and disturb Harry when he’s making his potion.
And then there’s Defence. Harry isn’t sure what to feel about Defence. The classroom always reeks of garlic and the fumes make Harry’s eyes watery. The lecture is torture to listen to, with Professor Quirrell stuttering in every sentence. But there’s something about Professor Quirrell that Harry isn’t exactly sure how to feel. Just… something niggling in the back of Harry’s mind about the professor. As much as Harry wants to just sleep away in the class as he does during History, he can’t keep his attention off the professor. And then there’s the… itchy sensation he feels on his back whenever the professor looks back at Harry. Right where his soulmark is.
The feeling lingers, too. It’s uncomfortable. It feels… wrong.
“You alright?”
Harry looks up to see his brother staring at him with concern, his fork hanging halfway to his mouth.
“Huh?” Harry stares back blankly.
Alfie looks pointedly at Harry’s hand on his neck and then raises his eyebrow at him.
“Something wrong with your mark?” asks Alfie.
Oh. Harry doesn’t even realise he’s been rubbing over his mark.
“It tingles,” Harry answered. Putting his hand down and grabbing his fork to eat his untouched treacle tart. Hogwarts’ elves make the best treacle tart, in Harry’s opinion, and Harry can’t remember what bothers him so much that he ignores it.
He takes a bite and remembers how hungry he was before he was lost in his thoughts. Being a Hufflepuff has its perks, and the important perk is that the location of the kitchen is an open secret and is right next door to the common room. Harry had just finished the Defence class when he saw his brother in the hall, and then he decided to just grab Alfie to the kitchen for an afternoon snack, leaving Justin Finch-Fletchley confused with a quick goodbye.
A few more bites of the delicious tart and then Harry looks up to see his brother still staring at him, this time with a frown.
“It happens all the time at Defence,” Harry shrugs, “it’s weird, but then, the whole class is weird, don’t you think?”
Alfie stares at him for a few more seconds before he sighs, “At least you don’t get a headache from it.”
Now it’s Harry’s turn to raise his eyebrow. “You got a headache?”
“Yeah, must’ve been the fumes. Maybe it messed with soulmarks. Or maybe soulmarks are just allergic to Quirrel,” Alfie quipped.
Harry chuckles, both of them going back to ravishing their tarts. Harry might end up persuading one of the elves to spill their recipe and give it to Tisly back home.
“So, what news from the Gryffindors?” asks Harry after they both finished eating. Warm cups of tea appear on their table with a pop. Harry loves the Hogwarts elves.
“Oh, you’ll like this one,” Alfie grins, ”Fred and George have been telling everyone about the Cerberus in a locked room on the forbidden third-floor corridor.”
“I’m sorry, the what ?” Harry splutters his tea.
“The Cerberus!” Alfie cheers.
“The Cerberus, as in the three-headed dog that is classified as an XXXX class creature?”
“Yes!”
Now, Harry has nothing against creatures. In fact, he is fond of them, proved by the number of Kneazles that are currently littering his home. It’s only because Harry thinks it wouldn’t be fair to pick his favourite that Harry didn’t bring one of them to Hogwarts. Harry would be thrilled at the opportunity to meet a Cerberus up close. But even Harry has the common sense not to leave an XXXX class creature in a simple locked room in Hogwarts, where any student can easily find them.
“Do you want to go and check if the twins are telling the truth?” Alfie asks excitedly.
Oh no. This is bad. This is ‘Alfie finding a new potentially life-threatening adventure’ level of bad. Going off to see a Cerberus without a proper adult to handle things when things get rough is bad .
But. A Cerberus!
So Harry nods.
“Sure.”
Both boys end up panting in the corridor after running from the Cerberus, and from Mrs. Norris. It was just their bad luck that they managed to be found by Mrs. Norris right after escaping the Cerberus. And Harry still can’t believe his eyes.
He just saw the Cerberus, a real Cerberus, right in front of his eyes. And they look so fluffy . With their three giant heads, three pairs of adorable puppy eyes, and drools hanging from each mouth. Harry wishes that he had the time to pet and feel their soft fur. Harry is sure that it would be softer than even Padfoot’s fur. Maybe he can find a time later to visit them again. Surely, with enough patience, Harry could befriend the Cerberus. They just need to see that Harry doesn’t mean any harm, maybe bring some meat from the kitchen to gain their trust.
But his brother snatched him away before he could reach the Cerberus. Shame.
“No, Harry, stop that thought.”
“What!” Harry snapped.
“I know that look. You’re thinking about going back there again, aren’t you?” Harry sees Alfie pointing his finger right in his face.
“Like you’re one to talk! Whose idea was it to see them in the first place?” accuses Harry, smacking Alfie’s hand away from his face.
“Well, I never said to go pet the Cerberus! My idea was only to take a peek and see if the twins are telling the truth or not,” Alfie retorts. “I had to yank you away because you decided that it was a good idea to get close enough to be eaten by that dog!”
“But they look so fluffy !”
“Oh, you’re ridiculous,” Alfie groans, sitting down against the wall, still catching up his breath. Harry mirrors him.
They both catch each other's eyes, and can’t help but start laughing. It was ridiculous. Who can guess that they will meet a Cerberus a few months into Hogwarts? From Sirius’ stories, they were expecting the Giant Squid, maybe running into some Centaurs or Unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, or messing up with Peeves the Poltergeist. But they certainly never thought to meet a Cerberus inside the castle.
“Do you know where we are?” Harry asks after they both calm down.
Alfie looks around and then seemingly just realises that they were… well, lost. “Must’ve still been on the third floor, I don’t remember going up or down a stair, do you?” says Alfie.
Harry shakes his head.
“Well, then,” Alfie stands, brushing off his robe, “it seems like we have a new adventure in finding our way back in the castle.”
Harry groans.
Troll. In the castle.
First, it was a Cerberus, and now it’s a Troll.
Harry is beginning to think that maybe going to Hogwarts is a wrong choice.
Harry has just enough time to send a stern glare to his brother, forcing him to go to the Gryffindor’s common room before he gets any idea of chasing down the Troll. Thankfully, Alfie decides to be sane for once and follows the prefects to his dorm.
The morning after, Harry hears about a Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, getting caught up with the Troll. The teachers got to her soon enough and she managed to get away unscathed. Well, mostly unscathed. They say she’s still recovering in the hospital wing. Must be the shock, Harry thinks.
“Does this happen often in a magical school?” Justin asks him.
“Honestly,” Harry sighs, “I don’t know.”
Christmas break soon arrives and Harry happily takes off the train with Alfie, slipping through the crowd trying to find Sirius.
“Pups!”
There he is. Alfie starts running, Harry following just a second later. Both boys end up crushing Sirius in a hug. A hand tugs Harry back from Sirius, ending the hug far too soon, in Harry’s opinion.
“I understand the excitement, but Sirius still has to breathe, boys.”
“Remus!” Harry grins up at his second-favourite uncle, for now, and feels Remus’s hand ruffling his hair. Alfie is still clinging to Sirius like a koala bear, fighting against Remus’s tugs.
“Come, let’s get out of here,” Remus says, whisking them away from the station.
Alfie and Harry spend the break with Sirius and Remus at the Black Chateau in France, and Harry’s nine Kneazles that Sirius brings from the Potter Manor. The days were filled with Harry lazing in front of the fireplace with a pile of fur around him, extremely competitive snowball fights, a nice solemn ritual at Yule, and lots and lots of presents, because Sirius absolutely has no care for moderation. It was a nice break from all the chaos in Hogwarts.
Which makes going back to Hogwarts almost… disappointing. And so it leads to Harry making bad decisions, such as going back to see the Cerberus and trying to befriend them. Or at least that is what Alfie thinks. In Harry’s opinion, it is not an entirely bad decision. A little bit dangerous? Yes. But Harry gives it a lot of thought and makes a plan about it. He did his research!
Harry has been reading books about dangerous creatures, trying to find as much information about Cerberus over the break. He learned that Cerberus eats raw meat, enjoys animal bones as a chew toy like any other dog, and goes docile and sleepy when they hear music. Basically, Cerberus is just a giant puppy.
So Harry brings his harmonica, asks the house elves for some leftover lamb meat and bone, and goes to see the Cerberus (which Alfie has learned from Hagrid is named Fluffy!). Harry might consider befriending Hagrid after this, if being friends with Hagrid means he gets to meet more rare creatures. Well, that is a thought for another day. Hagrid is just too… loud for Harry.
“I demand the right to say ‘I told you so’ if this ends up badly, again,” says Alfie cheerfully, trailing after Harry like it was just another kind of adventure for him.
“Oh, shut up,” whispered Harry, giving an annoyed side-eye at Alfie. They are entering the third-floor corridor and Alfie skipping happily behind him ruins the stealth mode Harry was trying to make.
“And stop being such a hypocrite, you’re as excited at this as I am,” Harry continues.
“Yep, but I still stand my opinion that this is a bad idea,” answers Alfie.
And it was a bad idea. Not the meeting Fluffy part, that part went well. They reached the room, Harry threw the meat at them, played a soft tune on his harmonica, and Fluffy went docile right away. Fluffy even got sleepy enough that Harry managed to get close and pet them. And Harry was right, their fur is so soft . They even gave Harry a playful lick! Well, Harry thought it was playful, but Alfie said that they were tasting him to see if Harry would make a good meal. Alfie surely doesn’t know a thing about creatures.
The bad part comes after that. Harry was happily petting Fluffy when they heard footsteps coming closer. Harry had a feeling of deja vu when he felt Alfie yank him away from the Cerberus, again. And then they were running away from the room, again .
Honestly, why can’t the world let Harry pet a Cerberus in peace?
And here they were again, hiding in an abandoned room somewhere on the third floor from whoever that was.
“I think that was Quirrel,” Alfie breathes, “you could even smell the garlic from here.”
“Well I really don’t care who it was as long as we weren’t caught,” says Harry.
“Yeah, and this is the part where I say ‘I told you so’.”
“Oh, shove off.”
Alfie snickers, taking the time to catch his breath and looks around the room.
“What do you think that is?” Alfie points at the huge figure covered with a faded sheet in the centre of the room.
“Dunno,” Harry shrugs, “must be an old cabinet or something.”
Alfie approaches the thing slowly, always the curious one.
“I don’t think you should touch it. It might be cursed,” Harry says, just a second before Alfie grabs the sheet and pulls it off.
“And you have the nerve to say that I’m the reckless one just minutes ago,” Harry sighed, following Alfie to the mirror that was revealed. It looks ancient, with intricate patterns carved on the golden part around it.
“There’s something written up there,” Harry points to the upper part of the mirror.
ERISED STRA EHRU OYT UBE CAFRU OYT ON WOHSI
Alfie looks up at the writing, then back at the mirror.
“It doesn’t show a normal reflection, though. See here, I think it’s us, but older. And there are a couple of other people, too. But I don’t recognize them,” Alfie frowns. “At least it doesn’t look like anything bad, we looked happy,” he takes a closer look at the mirror, “I think it’s our soulmate! We certainly looked close enough with each other. I don’t think the mirror is cursed. Enchanted, perhaps. But certainly not a curse.”
Harry steps closer to Alfie and looks in the mirror.
“I don’t see other people. It’s just us, but older like you said.”
“Huh, that’s strange.”
Whatever the mirror is, they don’t see it again after they leave the room, and they put it out of their mind. Only to run into it again by the end of the school year. Well, running into it isn’t entirely correct. More like.. kidnapped.
It goes like this.
Harry and Alfie were lazing on the Hogwarts ground, celebrating the end of exam week. They found a tree that makes a nice spot overlooking the lake. So they lay down underneath the shade to enjoy a nice afternoon, just a few days more until they could go home for summer break.
Harry was even starting to doze off when it happened, whatever it is. All he knows is that one moment he was closing his eyes to sleep on the ground, and when he opened his eyes, he was tied up in a room he doesn’t recognize.
He must be still in Hogwarts, the stone floor and walls are familiar. And Alfie is beside him, also tied up, with a hard glare at… Professor Quirrell?
Just what in Merlin’s name is happening?
Sure, they both have been in a few kidnap attempts before. Consequences of being the Golden Boys and all. But kidnappers usually are very straightforward in what they want from them, either ransom or a bit of revenge for their fallen Lord. It never got too serious, though. Their parents or Sirius or Remus got to them soon enough before things got real bad. The worst they have gotten is a body-bind curse for Alfie because he got mouthy enough to annoy the kidnappers. Amateurs, the lot of them.
But Professor Quirrell (assuming he is the kidnapper), doesn’t even look at them. He is staring at the strange mirror that they have found before on the third floor. Rude.
It is only a matter of time before Alfie gets agitated enough to say something stupid.
“So are you going to start to torture us or something?”
There he goes.
“Really, Alfie,” Harry sighs.
At least they got the professor’s attention now. He turns around and looks at them, rather amused, Harry thinks.
“Is this a common occurrence for both of you?” Professor Quirrell asks calmly. And wow, Harry seems to be having quite a lot of surprises today. The professor just speaks clearly and confidently without any stutter. It’s almost like he is a completely different person from the usual Professor Quirrell.
The allergy-to-soulmarks thing is still going on, though. If anything, it even seems to get stronger. Harry’s mark hasn’t stopped prickling and getting weirdly warm.
“Oh, it happens every now and then. We got used to it, really,” Alfie drawls.
“Good. That will make this easier, then,” says Professor Quirrel. Okay, what the hell?
The professor casually flicks his wand and levitates both of them to the mirror, then stands them upright facing the mirror. So not only is his stutter gone, but he is also actually pretty powerful with his magic now, just effortlessly and wordlessly lifting both of them like that. Harry doesn’t remember ever seeing the professor cast a single spell in class before.
“Now, I imagine this would be far simpler than your previous experience of being taken by force, if you would cooperate with me. Both of you only need to look into the mirror and tell me what you see,” says the professor.
Weird request, but well, easy enough to do, Harry thinks. Not that they have any other option, what with being tied up like this.
“Just so you know, this is the strangest kidnapping situation we’ve ever been in,” quipped Alfie, Harry could hear the forced relaxed tone in his voice. “And also, really, no need to kidnap us or tie us up like this. You could just ask nicely, you know.”
“Cooperate, Mr. Potter. Before I force you to.” Harry feels the air getting tenser around them and his mark getting uncomfortably warm, with Professor Quirrel sending them a stern look through the mirror’s reflection. Alfie twitches like he wants to spit on the professor or punch him, or both. Thankfully, he is restrained. Harry has a feeling that he really doesn’t want to know what Professor Quirrell will do to ‘force’ them. The professor feels completely different from the amateurs that have kidnapped them before.
“I just see us, me and Harry, I mean. It’s nothing unusual like before,” Alfie grunts.
The professor raises his eyebrow at that. “And you, Mr. Potter?” the professor turns his stare at Harry.
“The same, just me and Alfie in the mirror,” though their reflection is a bit unusual, but Harry doesn’t say that to Professor Quirrel, of course. Alfie’s reflection sends playful looks at Harry’s, and mirror-Harry throws a knowing smirk at him. Weird, and also, rude . His reflection dares to taunt him while Harry is being held hostage here.
“I have warned you against being difficult,” Harry feels a sudden weight in his pocket and sees his reflection pick up a red stone from that pocket, still smirking at him, ”and yet you still dare to lie to me.”
Then, several things happen at once. The professor grabs Harry on the back of his neck, right where his mark is located, and Harry feels a sudden searing pain in his mark. Alfie moves toward him with an angry look. Then Harry feels a sudden explosion and all three of them are thrown back in opposite directions. Harry thinks he heard screaming, but the burning feeling in his mark is so overwhelming he can’t focus on anything else.
It takes quite a while for the sensation on his mark to calm down. When Harry finally opens his eyes, he sees his brother on his knees, staring at his own hands which were covered in… ash. Then Harry sees the pile of robes also covered in ash in front of his brother.
“Is that… him?” Harry rasps, his throat feels raw. Oh. So that was his own screaming that he heard.
“Harry!” Alfie shouts, scrambling toward him. Harry tries to lift himself up but every move feels so sluggish. He lets his brother run his hands over his face, brushing his hair back so that Alfie could see his face. Harry doesn’t have any energy left to do anything but lets his brother smother him, dirtying Harry’s face with the ashes left in his hands.
“You’re okay,” his brother trembles, holding him so tightly, “we’re okay.”
Looking back on the incident, Harry can’t help but feel like he is missing something important. Like, missing a giant piece of a puzzle that left him confused over what truly happened. Sure, the headmaster told them the day after about how they just saved the Wizarding World once again by preventing Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer’s Stone. A lot of bullshit, in Harry’s opinion. Who the hell decides to keep such a powerful artefact like the Sorcerer’s Stone in a castle full of children? And also the freaking Dark Lord parading around as their Defence professor? Surely, the Headmaster must’ve known about that all along, and then somehow decided to just let him be for a strategic reason or something. Add on the fact that their parents were also there praising them for being ‘so brave’ or some shit. It has not been a good few days for Harry.
Now that Harry finally gets some peace, with just him and Alfie alone in a compartment on their way home, Harry realises some things that trouble him. Like how the Dark Lord was seemingly so calm back then, showing no intention of killing them whatsoever, like how the Headmaster and their parents believed. And the strange reaction of his soulmark, getting so painful when the Dark Lord touched it to the point of inciting a freaking explosion. And how Harry has been left feeling so… empty afterward.
“Hey,” Harry feels his brother nudging him gently, bringing him out of his thoughts, “you okay?”
Harry shrugs and smiles softly at Alfie. He lets Alfie wrap his arms around him, and rests his head on Alfie’s shoulder. Drawing comfort from his brother’s presence all around him.
Whatever happened back then, everything will still be fine, Harry thinks. He has his brother with him.