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Chapter Text

Harry was not an average boy. In fact he was often told that he was strange and freakish.

Once his aunt had found him in the backyard, surrounded by snakes all hissing at him, she had screamed and pulled him into the house shouting about how unnatural and horrid it was to play with snakes. Another time he had made his own raggedy pillow change into a luscious velvet one, he had also changed his teacher’s hair bright blue. And, most recently he had caused his cousin Dudley to fall into a snake enclosure at the zoo.

He had always had an affinity toward snakes. He understood them more than he could any other kid his age. He knew a lot about them too. Oftentimes he would walk to the library to find any book he could on snakes. At some point, the librarian would put the books on snakes at eye level for him as well as protein bars hidden behind them.

The library was nice and quiet and spacious. Why would Dudley go into the Library anyway?

Of course Harry had never seen anything unusual about it, he had never known anything different, and it had always confused him when his aunt and uncle would whisper behind closed doors after these incidents. And of course he would catch bits of these conversations even though he shouldn’t have been able to from his small cupboard under the stairs. 

So, he probably should have seen this coming, expected it even.

What else could all of that stuff been but magic?

Harry stuffed the letter down the grate in his cupboard and brought the rest of the mail to Vernon.

Petunia was glancing at him, as if she was analyzing him. She apparently found nothing of note, nodded, and continued eating her food like the horrible aunt she was.

“Is this all the mail?” Petunia demanded, clutching her mug of coffee just a little too tight.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” Harry looked very pointedly at the eggs he was cooking and hoped that she would fuck off and stop bothering him with questions. 

Thankfully, it was at this moment that Dudley thumped down the stairs as loudly as seven elephants with tap dancing shoes. Dudley had been accepted into Vernon’s old boarding school, Smeltings, which was very good for Harry as it meant Dudley wouldn’t be there for the school year and he might finally have some time alone that wasn’t in the library.

“Oh! Just look at my little Diddykins!” Petunia said while snapping picture after picture of him by the fireplace.

Whilst Petunia and Vernon fawned over Dudley in his pain inducing red uniform, Harry slipped away to his cupboard to open his letter.

Sitting criss-cross on his bed, Harry stared at the letter, creating a light orb so he could see, “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry” What kind of lame ass name was “Hogwarts?” And how the blubbering fuck did they know about his cupboard? He flipped the letter open.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

 Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely, 

-Minerva McGonagall 

Deputy Headmistress

Uniform First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black) 
2. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) 
3. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) 

All students should have a copy of each of the following: 

• The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
• A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
• Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling 
• A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch 
• One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore 
• Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger 
• Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander 
• The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble 

Other Equipment 

• 1 wand 
• 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 
• 1 set glass or crystal phials 
• 1 telescope 
• 1 set brass scales 

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad, anything other than the creature mentioned will result in the creature being forcibly removed from the premises.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Who the fuck was Albus Dumbledore, why the fuck was his favorite fantasy writer here, and where the fuck was he supposed to buy this shit?

Oh shit.

Newt Scamander…

Magic school…

What the fuck???

Magic was real?

And he was invited to a magic school… He didn't have to go to Stonewall!

Fuck yeah!

The Dursleys could suck his arse!

Harry was high on life. For one of the first times he hadn’t gotten the short end of the stick!

He didn't know what “We await your owl” meant but that doesn't fucking matter.

Harry went to sleep comfortably that night with warm feelies in his tummy.

The next day, Vernon had gotten a letter, except this time, he had only glanced at the parchment and it’s wax-seal before Vernon tossed it into the fireplace.

“What was that?” Harry said in false curiosity.

“Don’t ask questions!” Petunia snapped back.

Harry sighed, and went back to cooking breakfast for them. The thought occurred to him that he could literally poison the food and they would eat it without noticing.

Nah, that was wrong.

Even if they were terrible people, unfortunately, Harry still had morals.

The letters continued arriving in stranger and stranger ways, one day they had appeared in Petunia’s eggs, there wasn't even a yolk in them, it was just empty. 

Harry was excited for magic, he'd be able to remove the yolk from the shell, and he could probably use it to remove the yolk from the egg whites!
And Harry continued playing dumb, it was honestly getting kind of fun.

He had snuck a couple into his cupboard one night and one of them had one of the letters, however this one was labeled ‘Potions Essay i guess’ with a half written essay, with the rest of it soaked in ink. There was even a little note at the bottom saying, “if ur reading this, im so sorry.”

Harry stuck that one to his wall.

After that, he tried to get all of the letters he could, some of the ones he got were double sided, with uncomplete or graded assignments on the back. He found ‘Look we’re helping the planet okay?’ on one of them.

His nights were spent with reading their assignments, they literally crossed out everything they got wrong even after it was graded.

One of them used colorful pens to mark them, while the other one simply crossed each out with black pen.

Then the Dursleys suddenly decided to get really pissy about the whole thing, first they gave him Dudley’s second bedroom and then they took everyone on some depressing roadtrip to a weird island in a rowboat during a fucking thunderstorm?

They were insane. Definitely insane.

Vernon and Petunia gave him the saddest fucking blanket while trying to start a fire with fucking chip bags???

Harry had never gone camping, but he was pretty fucking sure that you couldn’t start a fire with what was basically foil and, not to mention, super greasy.

Dudley slept on an old, moldy, musty, couch, while Harry slept on the floor with the thinnest sheet in the shack, which was almost falling apart.

The watch on Dudley’s wrist beeped and Harry looks to see that he had been 11 for a whole two minutes. What a shit birthday this was. 

There is a loud bang of thunder outside. Harry wonders how his snakes are doing, he hadn’t been able to get them in the chaos. 

 The thunder was being really fucking loud. Could it just shut up for two minutes so he could think? Then another ear-splitting crash. Oh shit, that didn’t sound like thunder that time. 

Another crash. 

Dudley shot up, “Where’s the cannon?” he said rather stupidly. Vernon and Petunia clambered down the stairs. “Who’s there? I’m warning you I'm armed!” Oh shit he has a fucking shotgun. Where the everloving goddamn fuck did he keep that?

The sound of wood splintering and thunder suddenly filled the room and the door fell off its hinges. And in the door frame was an enormous man. This birthday just got a whole lot more interesting.

Chapter Text

“Oop, sorry ‘bout that. I’ll just lean that against here.”

 The goliath of a man steps into the shack and picks up the door that he fucking knocked off its hinges, and looks around the room like it was a normal Tuesday afternoon.

 His eyes land on Harry “Ah and you must be Harry Potter,” he says, a large grin on his face, “You’re quite a bit bigger than when I last saw ya. You were only a baby when we dropped you off on your muggle relatives' doorstep. All bundled up and sleeping after that long flying motorcycle ride. You know at first I was a little nervous to take on such a large responsibility for getting you to Privet Drive safely but Albus Dumbledore put his trust in me and I’m glad that he did. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm Rubius Hagrid, Gamesmaster and Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts. But you can call me Hagrid” 

Harry had no idea what the fuck any of the words coming out of this strange man's mouth meant but never the less his interest was piqued. 

“I order you to leave this instant! You are breaking and entering!” 

The man, Hagrid, fixed his eyes on Vernon rather intimidatingly, “Can it Dursley, you old sod.” 

“Sorry, but why exactly are you here?” Harry asked.

 “Oh, that’s right, I have a job,” Hagrid said to himself, “I’m here to tell you something very important. You’re a wizard, Harry.” 

“Oh. I know.” 

“What do you mean ‘you know’ ???” Petunia asked, a hit of panic in her voice.

“Well when your childhood is filled with talking to animals and turning your teacher's hair blue with your mind, you start to suspect some things. And when the first letter arrived it kind of just made everything fit together in a nice, neat, little box of secrets kept from me since almost birth.”

“What do you mean they’ve been keeping secrets from you? Have they been lying to you!?”

“I mean yeah, they literally locked me in a closet for the past decade or so of my life. Did you not see the address the letters had?”

Hagrid once again fixes a murderous gaze on Vernon and walks over to him.

“Stay back! I have a gun!”

Hagrid takes the shotgun out of Vernon’s hands and ties it into a fucking pretzel. He forcefully hands the pretzel-shaped gun into Vernon’s hands. Vernon whimpers and rushes Petunia and Dudley upstairs.

“Well, now that that’s taken care of let’s get onto more important matters,” Hagrid pulls out a slightly crumpled-looking box from his coat. 

“Happy birthday, Harry. Sorry if it’s a bit squished, I may have sat on it on the way over.”

Harry opens the box to reveal a cake with wonky writing that said ‘Happy Birthday Harry’ or at least Harry could guess that it did, it was quite squashed.

 All at once Harry felt as if the care and love that he had searched for in his younger years, that he had learned to push down the want for, had come back to punch him in the face. 

His eyes started to water and he hurriedly rubbed at them with his sleeve. 

“Do you not like it? Erm, that’s alright I can just take it back.” 

“No! No! I really, really like it. Thanks, genuinely.” Who allowed him to have fucking feelings?

“I’m so sorry, it sounds like I'm being sarcastic but I'm not being sarcastic. I'm so sorry.”

Hagrid laughs and pats him on the shoulder. “It’s alright kiddo. I understand. We should probably get to sleep though, we have a big day tomorrow.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Diagon Alley of course! We need to get supplies for your first year of Hogwarts!” 

Harry stifled down a yawn. Hagrid lent him his coat to use as a blanket and Harry slept the best he had since he received the letter all those days ago.

Harry wakes up. He stared at the ceiling for quite some time, going over the past month or so in his brain. It dawns on him how ridiculous his situation might sound to someone like the librarian at the library. ‘Yeah, some wizard school started sending me letters so my terrible relatives took us on a shitty vacation to some island where a giant dude knocked down the door, told me I was a wizard, threatened my horrible relatives, and then wished me a happy birthday.'

Suddenly there was a tapping at the window. Harry looked over at the window to see a floofy bird pecking away at the glass.

“Uhm, Hagrid? There’s a bird.”

“Let it in.” Hagrid waved his hand in the general direction of the window, not getting up from his face-down position on the couch.

Harry opened the window and the bird, which Harry thought was probably an owl, flew in. The bird landed on the mantle of the fireplace and held its leg out expectantly. Harry noticed that it had a little bag connected to its leg. Harry went to open it and pulled out the folded-up paper that was in it. Harry unfolded it. It looked like it was a newspaper with big letters across the top that said ‘The Daily Profit’ in big bold letters.

At that moment the bird decided to land on his shoulder and nipped at his ear.

“Ow! Shit.”

The bird flew to Hagrid’s coat and started to peck at it.

“Hagrid! The bird’s trying to attack your coat.”

“Just give it some knuts.”

“Nuts?”

“Wizard currency. Check the upper left pocket.”

Harry rummaged around in the pockets of Hagrid’s coat. He found a handful of cashews and tried offering the owl some but it did not seem interested. He kept rummaging and found a pocket full of coins that Harry didn’t recognize. He guessed that the bronze one was a knut given that it said ‘unum knut’ on it.

The bird once again stuck its leg out expectantly. Harry opened the pouch and dropped a few of the coins into it. The bird then flew out the window leaving Harry sitting on the floor looking a little dumbfounded. 

Hagrid got up at this point, walking over to the fireplace with the pink umbrella he had when he broke down the door and pointed it lazily at the grate. A fire erupted from the end of the umbrella and into the firebox.

Harry wondered if all wizards did magic with umbrellas, but he decided not to voice it because he started scanning the front of the newspaper, and Vernon had never liked questions nor being while reading the newspaper.

After warming up the sausages from the night previous, Hagrid lifted his coat off the ground, and handed the sausages to Harry, “Come on, we got a lot of stuff to do today.”

“How are we getting there?” Harry tried to fix his hair to no effect, it still looked terrible and frizzy.

“Boat.” Hagrid said absentmindedly while warming up some coffee, “Milk or sugar… wait you're eleven… never mind.”

“If we’re taking the boat, and there’s only one boat, how are the Dursleys going to get back?”

“Fine… If we can’t abandon them on an island we’ll take my motorbike.”

“But… we're on an island?”

“It’s a flying motorbike! We can get almost anywhere in Britain without running out of juice!”

“That’s so cool! How does it work?” 

Hagrid went on explaining a bunch of stuff about charms, runes, and some magic potion fuel stuff. As they rode high above the houses and buildings.

“Hagrid, why hasn’t anyone seen us?”

“It’s because of this bad boy right here,“ he gestures towards a light switch, “When you flip it up, it makes the entire motorbike become invisible!”

“That’s so awesome!!” Harry yelled over the wind so sharp it could cut ice.

Hagrid starts descending, “You see that?” He gestured to a large red translucent arrow, “That's where we’re headed, that's the pub. They marked it like that so people on brooms, or in our case motorbikes, could find it from above!”

“Huh, that's smart!” Harry said, shouting once more.

They landed in a dark alleyway that Petunia would have scoffed at, and headed into a building the people walking by didn't seem able to see the pub.

As they passed through, he saw many interesting people, one person mixing their mug absentmindedly with a flying spoon, another small toddler eating candies and flying a couple inches off the ground, and a turbaned man who smelled strongly of garlic.

“Morning Hagrid.” the bartender said while preparing 6 meals at once for a family.

“Morning Tom!” Hagrid replied to the man.

Eventually, they came face to face with a brick wall.

“Are you ready?” Hagrid said, beaming.

Harry nodded.

Hagrid tapped a bunch of, what seemed to be random, bricks, and the wall opened up into an archway with many shops and people on the other side busily buying things.

Hagrid gestured at it and smiled

“Welcome… to Diagon Alley.”

Chapter Text

“Well, your parents didn’t leave you with nothing.”

Well, that raises more questions than answers them.

They passed a store with a sizable crowd of people huddled in front of one of the display windows.

“The Nimbus Two Thousand,” one of them said with awe to their friend, “I heard it’s the fastest broom yet!”

“This way Harry,” Hagrid said, making sure he didn’t get lost in the crowd.

He was definitely going to dislocate his neck from how fast it was turning.  In every direction something interesting was happening. He wished his eyes were bigger so he could take in more of what was happening.

Harry found them standing in front of a grand-looking building with an elegant white exterior and tall round pillars reaching up to support a domed roof and big bronze doors. 

“Where are we?”

“We’re at Gringots, we going to get your money.”

“I have money?”

Before Hagrid could reply, they had entered the building, so Harry just followed Hagrid inside. 

It was impossibly more grand on the inside.

Beautiful chandeliers made of thousands of crystals hung from a ceiling so tall, Harry nearly fell over 

when he tried to look at it. On either side of this room were tellerstands with short little humanoid creatures working away counting money and writing things with quills.

“Those are goblins,” Hagrid told him, leaning down towards Harry, “They run the bank.”

They walked up to the teller stand at the end of the room.

Behind the goblin, carved into the stone was the following;

‘Enter, stranger, but take heed 

Of what awaits the sin of greed, 

For those who take, but do not earn, 

Must pay most dearly in their turn, 

So if you seek beneath our floors 

A treasure that was never yours, 

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there’

Before Hagrid could speak, Harry moved to be in front of the stand on his tiptoes, ”Excuse me,” the Goblin lifted his head to look at him, “Mr. Hagrid told me I needed to get my money. Can you help me?”

“...Name?” The goblin spoke, looking quite tired.

“Harry Potter. Also, I was wondering what I should call you? I would rather not call you Mr. Goblin,” Harry’s nose wrinkled in distaste, “And I would like to call people by their real name.

“My name is Gromnash, and I need your key in order to determine your identity.” Gromnash looked down at him, his eyes sparkling with what looked somewhat like… Curiosity?

Harry shook his head clear, “Im very sorry but I don't have-”

“I have it!” Hagrid said hurriedly.

Gromnash dragged his eyes to stare unkindly at Hagrid, “Why do you have it? Only the owner of the vaults should have access to them. That key should be in the possession of one Hadrian James Potter.”

Hagrid blushed, embarrassed. “Dumbledore gave it to me to use to get his funds for Harry. I didn't know if I was meant to give it to him or take it back to Dumbledore.”

“In any case,” Gromnash sat up straight and glared at Hagrid, “I expect that you will give Mr. Potter’s Key back, seeing as it is against the law to possess a person’s vault key without the permission of the Lord or head of their household’s permission.”

Gromnash wrote something on a small piece of parchment and turned, “Griphook! Take Mr. Potter down to his heir vault.”

“What?! I’m under Dumbledore’s orders to escort Harry to get his school things, I shouldn’t leave him!” Hagrid said mortified

“Well Mr. Hagrid, I’m afraid that you are on Goblin soils, therefore, you have no power over what goes on here. We are going to take Mr. Potter to his vaults, seeing as you are not a parent or guardian, it is not necessary for you to come too.”

“Well, I also need to get something from a vault,” Hagrid leaned closer to Gromnash, “It's the… you know what in vault 713.”

Well wasn't that fucking suspicious.

“What’s in vault 713?” Harry said curiously, they had never worked on any of the Durlseys, but Harry felt as if his puppy eyes would work on Hagrid.

“It's… secret Hogwarts business. I’m not allowed to tell anyone. Sorry.”

“Kragguk! Mr. Hagrid, under Dumbledore’s orders, is to go down to vault 713.”

The goblins led them down a hallway, and into a jarringly non-marble area.

“Harry, meet me outside if I'm not out yet. I’ll wait for you too.”

Kragguk led Hagrid into the cart, and it left them at surprising speeds.

“Uhm, Mr. Griphook? How are we going to go, there's no cart?”

Just as he said it, another cart appeared, and Harry blushed, embarrassed.

“Well Mr. Potter, Before we get your gold, I have a couple of questions for you.”

Harry’s heart rate spiked.

“Why haven't you been responding to your summons here? It's very important after all. Your heirship affairs need to be sorted, you need to officially give your heirship, etc, etc,”

“I was getting summoned here? I have no information on this. The first letter for me I have ever received was my Hogwarts letter.”

“In that case Mr Potter, you need to get back here before school starts back up to get all of this sorted out.”

Griphook stepped into the cart gracefully and motioned for Harry to enter after him.

As soon as Harry sat down and held onto one of the many handholds, the cart sped down so fast his glasses would have flown off, had he not removed them beforehand.

Before he knew it, the cart had stopped in front of Vault 687.

“This vault contains all of your spending money until you turn 17. Vaults 685 and 686 are vaults that contain objects like heirlooms and books that have been passed down. If you would like, we could head there, should you wish to get a quick look at it or take something.”

A warm feeling in Harry’s chest blossomed, “Yes I would. Thank you so much Mr. Griphook”

The vault door opened and he was shocked by the sheer amount of coins and gold.

“Mr. Griphook? How much do you think I should take?”

“Approximately 55 galleons should be sufficient for the rest of the year and then some. You should also take a few sickles and knuts in case you need to break any into smaller amounts.”

Harry quickly counted out 55 galleons, a handful of sickles, and knuts, and stuffed them into a small bag, however not all of it fit.

“I can sell you a bag for your gold. It would have a lightning charm woven into it, as well as an extension charm for only 4 galleons.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry said as he took four more galleons from the pile and handed them to Griphook.

The goblin pulled a small, dark green pouch from his pocket and handed it to Harry.

When Harry finished putting the coins into his bag, they walked on the ledge over to the vaults before it.

They stopped in front of vault 686, and Griphook spoke, “This vault mostly contains books and a couple of old portraits, while vault 685 contains Lily Potter’s jewelry collection, some antique furniture, wedding dresses, the Potter Tome, some antique and charmed jewelry, etc.”

“Can we go to 685 first?"

Griphook nodded and they walked over to vault 685.

This vault was much larger than the money vault.

Harry drifted over towards the glass containers that contained a multitude of beautiful necklaces, earrings, anklets, and rings.

He reverently opened the top with shaking fingers and reached out to a long-chained, porcelain daisy necklace and a pair of green studded earrings that matched his— her eyes perfectly. Next to the glass boxes was a small jewelry box, just like what Petunia kept her jewelry in. 

Harry attached the necklace around his neck, it hung just above his belly button, and put the earrings in the box, swearing to get his ears pierced for them.

The Potter Tome was a large jeweled book.

If Harry were to ever bring that back to the Dursleys and let them see it, it would be gone before he could say ‘stop’. So he didn't let himself even read it for fear of temptation.

The trip to the next vault was much shorter.

Harry didn't know much about wizarding books, so he just grabbed a couple of books that seemed interesting, put them in his money pouch which they magically fit in, and told Griphook that he was done.

Down there had seemed like hours, but had really been about 30 minutes.

Harry found Hagrid pacing outside, waiting for him.

“Harry! Why’d it take so long in there?”

“Sorry, Griphook was just showing me the other Potter vaults, look what I found!”

Harry showed Hagrid the daisy necklace, “It was my mom’s! Like, my actual mom’s necklace!”

Hagrid smiled at Hagrid, “That's nice.”

Leaving Gringotts, Hagrid led Harry to a purple-colored store with a large pair of golden scissors hanging over the door.

Harry wondered how sharp they were and if you could cut something with them. The thought of how bad it might hurt if said pair of scissors happened to fall on you as you were walkin through the door also passed through his mind but was quickly pushed down.

In sinuous golden lettering, the words ‘Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions’ were painted above the large window display. 

Harry could gather that it was a clothing store, given the fancy dresses on show in the window.

“You go inside and get your robes, I’m going to get your quills and potion supplies.”

Harry stepped inside the shop rather timidly. The aspect of talking to new people always caused him anxiety.

A squat woman dressed in mauve stepped out from the back of the shop.

“Hello dearie, are you here for your Hogwarts uniform?”

Harry nodded.

“There’s a young man also being fitted for Hogwarts as well, you can stand next to him on stool two.”

A boy with pale features and neat, slicked-back, blond hair is standing on a stool behind some shelves. Harry goes to stand on the stool next to him.

“Going to Hogwarts are you?” the boy asked.

Harry was taken a little bit by surprise. He was still recovering from his previous interaction.

“Oh, erm, yes,” he said rather awkwardly.

“My parents are off buying the other things on the list, you know, I really don’t like shopping for things. It's quite boring really. I don’t see why I really needed to come despite the uniform fitting and the wand. What I really want to do is go look at the new Nimbus Two Thousand. It’s lame how they won’t let first-years have their own broom. Do you play any Quidditch?”

Harry had no fucking clue what Quidditch was. “No.”

“Ah, it’s not for everyone. I’m hoping I’ll get picked to play for my house. Do you have any idea what house you’ll be in?”

“No.” Harry didn’t really know what was happening.

“Hm, I’m probably going to be in Slytherin, all of my family’s been in Slytherin. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t get sorted into Slytherin. But know one really knows what house they're in until they're sorted.”

“You’re all finished dear.” the woman said to the blond boy.

“Thanks, see you at Hogwarts.” and with that, the boy left.

Harry met Hagrid outside of the shop. He was carrying a large stack of books and a caldron. Deciding that they were both hungry enough for lunch they decided to head back to the Leaky Caldron.

Whilst they were sitting at one of the tables Harry asked “What are the houses?”

“Ah, right I haven’t told you about them. There are four houses at Hogwarts, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Gryffindors are known for being brave and chivalrous, Ravenclaws are witty and intelligent, Hufflepuffs are loyal and diligent, and Slytherins are cunning and ambitious."

Harry paused, “What houses were my parents in?” 

“Ah, they were both in Gryffindor.”

Harry mulled over the information in his brain. “Do you know how they died, because the Dursleys never told me about the whole ‘you’re a wizard’ thing’ so I was wondering if they lied about that too.”

Hagrid gave him a sad and sympathetic smile before shifting to a more serious look. “Years ago, before you were born,” he started, “There was this wizard. A terrible wizard, the worst you could go, started to look for followers to help him do, just, evil things.”

“What was his name?” Harry asked, leaning in.

“ Oh, I don’t like saying it, it causes a lot of general panic to hear it.”

“Can you write it down?”

“Nah, I don’t know how to spell it, alright I’ll tell you,” Hagrid leaned in as well and said very quietly, “His name was Voldemort.”

What is it with the wizarding world and its people with weird names?

“What did he do that was so terrible?”

“He killed people! And tortured them. Every day you would fear that The Deatheaters, that’s what they called themselves, would come knocking at your door to come and take you away. It was a terrifying time,”

Hagrid leans back to a more normal seating position. “For some reason, You-Know-Who decided that you, a newborn baby, was a threat, and so he set out to, well, get rid of you.  And your mum and dad—”

Hagrid pulled a dirty pink handkerchief from his coat and wiped at his eyes.

“Sorry, I just get really sad thinking about this part but, your mum and dad fought to protect your life.”

Hagrid sniffled again.

“Then what happened?”

“Well, here's the mystery of it all, when You-Know-Who cast the spell that was meant to kill you, it reflected back to him.”

“Why?”

“No one knows. No one knows where he went either. Some say he died, but I think that’s crap, I don’t think he was human enough to die, I think he’s still waiting in the shadows ready to strike again when the opportunity arises. But what we do know is something about you that night that he hadn’t counted on, something special.” 

Well, that’s fucking depressing.

“And at Hogwarts and in the wizarding world in general, they're going to treat you like you are destined to save the world, they're going to treat you like a celebrity and it’s going to be strange and difficult to navigate but I believe in you. And if you ever need someone to talk to or someplace to escape to you are always welcome to come to my hut and hang out.”

There was that feeling again.

“Thanks, Hagrid.” Harry smiled at him.

Chapter Text

Once they had finished their lunch Hagrid bought Harry a chocolate ice cream cone from Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour. “I hope this can start to make up for all of your birthdays that the Dursleys never celebrated.”

Afterwards, Hagrid led him to a green store front with two tall, round, tower shaped windows on either side of the door. In the windows were various wands on display. ‘Ollivanders’ was written over the windows on either side in peeling gold letters. Above the door, in the same font, was, ‘Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC’’.

A bell rang quietly as they entered, if Harry hadn't been listening, he could have missed it.

The room’s walls were stacked to the ceiling with long boxes with what Harry could have assumed were wands.

The atmosphere had a quieting effect. Much like when you go to the doctor’s office or a library and it feels wrong to talk loudly.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” Harry jumped and turned to see a man standing in the back of the shop. “I knew you’d be arriving soon.”

The man took a step forward, “You have your mother’s eyes, it feels like only yesterday she was here buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow, nice for charm work”

Harry could see the man clearer now. He was old and had big silver eyes and white frazzled hair. He looked a little insane.

The man took another step forward, “Of course your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches, pliable, a little more power, excellent for transfiguration.”

He described the wands like the back of a book would describe a story.

“Well, I say your father favored it but, it’s really the wand that favors the wizard.”

Harry realized that the man hadn’t blinked once since he had looked at him. Harry also realized that the man was very close to his face.

He watched the man’s eyes slide up to the scar on Harry’s head.

“And that’s where…” he seemed to trail off for a bit, “I’m sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches, yew, powerful, very powerful, yes. And in the wrong hands… Had I known what it would have gone out to do…”

Hagrid made a cough noise and Harry was grateful for it, this man was very unsettling.

The man’s eyes slid over to Hagrid, “Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again. Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy wasn’t it?”

“Yep, it was, Mr. Ollivander.”

“That was a good wand, although, I suppose they snapped it when you were expelled.”

“Erm, yes” Hagrid looked very awkward, “I still have some of the pieces though.”

“But you don’t use those pieces.”

“No, no, no, definitely not.” Harry saw Hagrid grip his umbrella a little tighter.

“Good, good. Now Mr. Potter,” Mr. Ollivander returned his slightly creepy gaze onto Harry once more. “Which is your wand arm?”

“Well, uhhh I’m right handed?”

Mr. Ollivander waved his wand and a measuring tape flew out his pocket, “Hold out your right arm.”

He started to measure Harry around the most random places, like, who measures from knee to armpit?

After he finished measuring Harry, he flew around the room, picking wands off the wall, then sometimes putting them back or on a floating tray next to him.

Not before long he handed him the wands on the tray before yanking them out of his (right) hand.

A few times, Mr. Ollivander had allowed him to wave it, only for something to break or fall off the shelves.

The pile of wands that Harry had tried was growing lager by the minute. Despite this Mr. Ollivander seemed to become happier with each wand that was plucked from the shelf.

“Tricky customer, eh? Never the matter! I’m sure we’ll find a wand that suits you.”

After a little bit more trying Mr. Ollivander paused.

“Now I wonder. What if we went for something a bit more unconventional? Let’s see…”

He disappeared into the back of the shop and reemerged with a new wand box and a pondering look on his face.

“Try this one, black walnut and horned serpent horn, 9 inches, quite swishy.”

Harry’s fingers brush the wand as he grasps it gently. He feels a warm, tingly sensation travel through his guts. He gives it a wave and a burst of smoke erupts from the tip of the wand and a snake of smoke swirls his body from his feet to his head encircling his skull in a crown-like shape.

“Huzzah! That’s the ticket. I knew we would find it!”

“FUCK YEAH GOOD JOB HARRY- Oh sorry I didn't- sorry you’re eleven.”

“Oh really? I had no idea,” Harry smiled sarcastically, “It’s fine by the way, the Dursleys cuss out my parents all the time.”

Bosth adults gave him concerned looks.

Harry walked out.

Hagrid’s eyebrows creased and followed after him.

They left Diagon alley and headed towards a road.

“Harry, let me teach you something.” Hagrid spoke to him for the first time since Olivanders, “So get your wand out and hold it out towards the street,”

A whoosh and there was a large, vivid, purple, bus on the pavement in front of them.

Harry’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity and he listened aptly as the man explained the history of the bus and bought a lemonade.

Before he knew it, Harry was whisked to the back of the bus and almost slammed against the back window; however Hagrid caught his arm before he could go flying and propped Harry on his knee.

On the bumpy ride back, Harry almost threw up his lemonade five times.

Too soon and also not soon enough, they arrived back in Privet Drive.

They stop in front of the Dursleys. Hagrid kneels down in front of Harry.

“If you ever need anything, anything at all, you can owl me. Or you know, use regular mail. You are also always welcome to visit my hut when you get to Hogwarts.”

Harry nods before turning to the house, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

Hagrid considered him for a moment.

“Can I hug you?”

Harry remembers back to the last time he had asked for a hug. Arms outstretched to his aunt after skinning his knee on the pavement. She had scolded him for being clingy and smacked his hand.

Harry turns to Hagrid.

“Okay.”

Hagrid smiled at him sadly and pulled him into a tight hug. Harry’s gut feels weird and warm and there is a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“Alright,” Hagrid says, pulling away. “I should probably get going, you relatives don’t seem to like me very much. Stay safe Harry, and I’ll see you when you get to Hogwarts”

“Bye Hagrid” Harry turned back to the house. There is a woosh behind him and when Harry turned to look behind him, Hagrid was gone.

Chapter Text

Arriving back to the Dursleys’ was really awkward.

When he had walked in, they had looked up, and then gone back to whatever they were doing almost appearing frightened.

Harry didn't know what was going on but as he headed to his cupboard Petunia had said in clipped words between her teeth, “No. Cupboard. Second Bedroom. ”

So he headed up there, extremely confused while dragging his trunk behind him, being careful not to scratch the wooden floors.

The second bedroom had had all of Dudley’s most liked toys cleared out and presumably put into Dudley’s first bedroom.

And the Bed itself had cheap, stained sheets, that looked like Petunia had bought them off Ebay for 47 cents.

Harry vowed to buy some better ones with his newly found wealth.

For now, he would pack his new robes into his trunk and maybe fix some of the broken shit in there, like the fancy watch Aunt Marge had bought Dudley for his ninth birthday or the flip phone that Vernon had gotten Dudley that he had broken within a week, only to be replaced with the newest model.

Yeah, those would be useful.

First, getting the knowledge to fix those things/ learning a spell for it.

That night, an owl had appeared with a small package. 

Dear Harry,

Sorry I forgot to give you youre girngots key, also I wanted to le you know that you can send me letter anytime when you get to Hogwards or before if you can get/ find an out to use. 

I hope to see you soon!

-Hagrid

Now Harry had a way to get more money!

He slept well that night

__

It was so weird.

Harry was cooking the Dursleys dinner and they hadn’t said a single rude thing to him, scratch that, they hadn’t said anything to him period.

It was so weird.

The next day Harry went out right after lunch, well right after locking his trunk with all of his important wizarding possessions in it aside from his wand, key, and money, and held his wand out as Hagrid had instructed him. 

Moments later, a purple bus whooshed in front of him, nearly scaring the shit out of him.

The man who had explained the bus to him seemed to recognize him and only asked for the name of wherever he wanted to go, which was Diagon Alley.

This Ride on the bus was just as bumpy as last time, without Hagrid to stop him from flying around the bus, he had to hold on very tightly. Harry felt a twinge of sadness for Hagrid not being here. Hagrid was the first wizard who actually explained stuff to him and the first person to spend time with him willingly. Not too long after getting on the bus, he got off and made his way to the bar, where he walked straight past the bartender and to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

The place was just as vibrant and openly magical as last time, but this time he had more time time to look around and peruse the various shops.

He walked past a broom shop, which for some reason had far more people gawking through the windows than the magical animal shop next to it? How did wizards think that brooms were cooler than magical animals???

So, Harry, being interested by the shop, walked past two blond people exiting it, one of them being the boy he had spoken to in the robe shop. The boy was holding a beautiful snowy owl in a cage.

Harry caught part of their conversation as they passed. The blond man said, “So Draco, what do you think you’ll call her?” 

The blond boy, Draco, replied, “Her name is going to be Hedwig.” He sniffed haughtily.

Harry made his way into the shop, the noise immediately became louder as he entered the shop as if by magic.

The witch at the counter said, “Welcome!” and then left him to peruse the many animals in their cages. 

A bunch of parrots spoke loudly to each other high above him, the cages strung on a line, some mice and rats did tricks in the window, a couple toads were in a cage doing basically nothing, and a cage in the back held a single snake .

That snake wasthe one that caught his eye.

Harry walked up to their enclosure and looked at them through the wire bars, he examined the sign to the side of the cage that said the snake was an adder and remembered having conversations with the garden snakes when Petunia made him work outside, so he spoke to him too.

“Hi?”

“A speaker?” 

“I noticed you were all alone.”

The snake turned its head up haughtily , “Well that’s awfully rude of you. I would like you to apologize immediately.”

Harry laughed under his breath at the snake’s snakey demands, “I’m sorry, I only meant that you were alone, just like me.”

The snake lowered its head, “ Are you going to take me away from here then? ” He said almost hopefully.

“Yeah, I think I am.”

The snake radiated as much joy as a snake could.

“But you have to promise not to bite anyone without my permission,” Harry added as an afterthought.

Harry walked up to the lady at the counter, she hadn't heard them because of all the noise in the shop, “Excuse me? I was wondering if I could purchase the snake back there?”

The lady gave him a bewildered glance before nodding, going over to the cage, and levitating it into a box.

The lady continued by saying, “This snake is an adder, they are venomous so when you put it in its cage you’ll need to be careful not to touch it or put your hands where they could be bitten. They are extremely aggressive; and, it costs 7 galleons.”

Harry paid the lady and left with his new friend. He waited until he saw a dark alleyway and ducked into it.

“Hey… I’m sorry that lady put you in a box you can come out as long as you don’t bite me or anyone, unless I say you can.”

“It’s okay, as long as you don’t put me in any cages and I get to stay with you I’ll keep my promises.”

Harry nodded and allowed the adder to slither up his arm and wrapped itself loosely around his neck like a strange necklace just above his collarbones.

After that, Harry decided to go to Gringotts and get a wallet with a Gringotts debit card for muggle card swipers and then head back to the Dursleys.

Harry told the snake about his situation and how he could not be seen on the bus ride home. 

After that Harry let the snake explore his room while perusing his school books for any names that he could call his snake.

Harry really enjoyed his magical creatures book, “Hey, what do you think about the name, Newt?”

“Yesss just like my favorite meal.”

“I’ll try to get you some later then.”

During the month Harry developed a habit of hissing quietly to his snake and talking shit about people.

Harry spent a month. A whole month. Being ignored by the Dursleys. It was fucking amazing.

At last, it was the day he got to leave the horribly plain house and Harry headed downstairs towards Vernon, “Uncle Vernon, I’m leaving today. I won’t be back until June 28th. Goodbye.”

Vernon nodded at him and turned back to the TV, watching his wrestling show.

Harry dragged his trunk down the stairs, held his wand out, and stepped into the Knight Bus.

After a bumpy journey on the bus, he finally arrived at King’s Cross.

Harry dumps his trunk in a cart and carefully places Newt on top of it. It occurred to him that he didn’t actually know how to get to the platform. In all the excitement of exploring Diagon Alley, he had forgotten to ask Hagrid what the hell platform 9 ¾ meant. He figured that asking just a random person who didn’t know anything about magic wouldn’t get him very far so he decided to wait near platforms 9 and 10 to see if he could see anyone who might help him.

He stood awkwardly by a trash can, watching people as they passed. Just when he was about to give up and just ask someone he caught a passing conversation.

“-always packed with muggles, of course-”

The speaker was a short woman talking to four younger-looking boys, each with a head of flaming red hair. 

Harry quickly followed after them

They had come to a stop near a wall. Harry stopped a little ways away, trying to muster the courage to go and ask them for help.

“All right Percy, you first.” said the woman.

The boy who seemed to be the oldest marched towards the wall. Harry tried to see what happened but a large crowd of people passed in front of him blocking the view. By the time they had cleared the boy was gone.

“Fred, you next”

“I’m not Fred, I’m George!” said the boy, “Honestly, woman,  you call yourself our mother?”

“Oh sorry, George, dear.”

“Only joking, I am Fred.” the boy said before running at the wall laughing, followed close by his twin. They seemingly disappeared before they hit the wall, there one moment and the next, gone.

Harry realized that he was going to be stuck if he didn’t ask for directions so he rushed forward before the last boy could leave.

“Um, excuse me?”

“Hello, dear! First time at Hogwarts? It’s Ron’s as well.” She pointed to the youngest boy. He was rather tall for someone his age and had bright red hair, just like his brothers, and lots of freckles that were spattered across his face.

“Um, yes. I just, erm”

“Don’t know how to get onto the platform?” Harry nodded.

“Not to worry, all you have to do is walk straight at this wall. Don’t worry about crashing into it. It’s best to do it at a bit of a run if you are nervous.”

“Er, okay.” Harry wheeled his cart around so that it faced the wall. It looked like a very normal, very solid, brick wall.

Harry took a deep breath and started to push his cart toward it. People walked past him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry sped up. He could almost imagine the sound of the cart hitting the wall and how everyone would stare at him. Harry was running now. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came. 

He opened his eyes to a platform packed with people and a red steam engine billowing smoke onto the crowd. A sign hung off of a brick pillar, Platform 9 ¾, he had found the platform!

Harry pushed his cart down the platform to find a seat. Most of the carriages were already packed. Students were hanging out of the windows of the train, waving bye to their families or calling to their friends. That probably wasn’t very safe. 

He found a compartment near the end of the train. He put Newt inside first and then tried to lift his very heavy trunk onto the train.

“Want a hand?” One of the boys that he had followed onto the platform had come over.

“Yes, please,” Harry said with relief. 

“Oi, Fred! C’mere and help!” 

They managed to get the trunk on the train and tuck it into a corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” Harry said as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. 

Harry sat in the last compartment of the train, right next to the window. He watched the people bustling about on the platform. He spotted the family with red hair. 

The woman had taken out a handkerchief and was rubbing at the youngest, Ron’s, face. One of the twins came up and teased him about something because Ron looked annoyed. The eldest boy strode over. He was already wearing his robes and on his chest was a shiny gold badge with the letter “P” on it.

They talked for a little more before the woman started to say goodbye to them and was probably telling them things like, “Behave” and “Make sure to write”. Something in the back of Harry’s mind longed for someone to say goodbye to and to tell him to write.

 He shoved the thought down almost as quickly as it appeared. He did not need to think about these things right now.

The train blew its whistle and Harry watched as families gave one last goodbye to each other before the children rushed onto the train. The train started to move and before Harry knew it the platform had disappeared from view.

Harry watched the city roll past him for a bit before he heard the door to the compartment slide open.

The youngest boy, Ron, stood in the doorway.

“Is it okay if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.”

Harry nodded.

The boy sat in the chair opposite from Harry and tried to glance at Harry without him noticing. He wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Hey, Ron.”

The twins were back.

“We’re going to go to the middle of the train, Lee Jordan’s got a huge tarantula.”

“Right,” Ron muttered.

“Oh, and I don’t think we introduced ourselves,” the other twin said to Harry. “George and Fred Weasley. Your name’s Harry, right? I saw it on your trunk.” Harry nods. “And this is our brother Ron. See you later.”

“Bye,” Harry said.

Ron and Harry sit in silence for a little bit. Harry would be lying if he said that it wasn’t very awkward.

“So,” Ron said after what seemed like an eternity. “You like to collect Wizard Trading Cards?”

Harry had no idea whatever the hell that meant but he was glad that he didn’t need to initiate conversation.

“What are those?”

“You don’t know what Wizard Trading Cards are?!”

“Well, I’m kind of new to all of this magic stuff.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. So, basically, there are these chocolate frogs that you can buy and each one comes with a trading card. I’ve got about five hundred, but I’m missing a few. They usually sell them on the train.”

“Cool, do you know a lot about magic?”

“I mean, kinda. My whole family’s magic so it’s hard for me not to know anything. I haven’t tried any spells yet, but Fred did tell me about one!”

“Ooo, what is it?” Harry asked, leaning forward with interest.

“Let’s see.” Ron stuck his hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out a rat, much to Harry’s surprise.

“Oh, this is Scabbers by the way. He’s kind of useless but he’s been in the family for the past ten-ish years. He was Percy’s old rat. Dad got Percy an owl when they found out he was a Prefect and they couldn’t aff-” Ron cuts himself off and his ears go a bit pink, “I mean, they gave me Scabbers instead.”

Ron seemed to think he had said too much because he was avoiding Harry’s eyes again. Harry didn’t think that there was anything to be embarrassed about with not being able to afford another owl. He had been wearing Dudley’s old clothes for his entire life up until a few weeks ago. Harry told Ron this and it seemed to dissipate his embarrassment. 

“So, what was the spell?” Harry asked, trying to change the subject a bit.

“Oh right!” Ron pulled out his wand and placed Scabbers on the table. He was about to recite the spell when the door to their compartment slid open again.

A girl with very bushy brown hair and a bossy sort of attitude was standing in the door frame.

“Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one.” 

Ron shook his head, “No, I’m sure it’ll turn up though.”

She made a noise of acknowledgment before glancing at the wand in Ron’s hand. “Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it then.” 

“Erm, alright.” Ron cleared his throat. “Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!”

He waved his wand but nothing happened. 

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well, it’s not a very good one is it? I’ve tried a few spells myself but they were very simple ones just for practice. No one in my family is magic so it was quite a surprise when I got my letter. But I was so pleased that I read all of the books at least twice. I’m Hermione Granger by the way.” she said this all very fast and at the end she paused expectantly waiting for the two of them to introduce themselves.

Harry glanced at Ron and was relieved to see that he was not the only one taken aback by this girl, although he had read all his books, perhaps not twice but he had taken the time to read them.

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron said after a moment.

“I’m Harry Potter.” This got a reaction out of both of them. Both Ron and Hermione Granger looked at him with a shocked expression.

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron said like he didn’t believe him. 

“Yes?”

“Do you have the scar? Sorry if that’s rude to ask.” Hermione Granger said in a hushed voice.

Harry pushed up the hair covering the majority of his scar.

“Woah.” Ron and Hermione said in unison.

“I know all about you. You’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and  Great Wizarding Events of the Twentyth Century .” Hermione said.

“Am I?” Harry felt a bit dazed, he hadn't known people had written books about him.

“Yes, you are. Well, I better get back to finding Neville’s toad. I’ll see you at school.” And with that, she stood up and left.

Ron was still staring at Harry like he was some strange alien.

“Um,” Harry felt very awkward. Ron must have realized he was staring because he cleared his throat and looked away.

They sat in silence once again and Harry mourned the fact that the first friendship that he had made was probably no extent now. Ron seemed like he wanted to say something because he was trying to discreetly look at Harry without Harry noticing again.

Harry wished he would just ask the question.

“You’re kind of bad at being subtle, you know,” Harry said finally after what felt like the twentieth time Ron had glanced at him.

“Oh, sorry.” He said, his ears going pink again. 

“Did you want to ask something?”

“Is that okay?”

“I guess so.”

“Oh, okay.” Ron paused, seemingly to think over his questions. “Do you remember anything?”

“Not really, just a lot of green light but nothing else.”

“Oh, um, I don’t think I expected you to know any more than that. Sorry, it was a weird question.” Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“It’s okay.”

“Did you know about anything that happened?”

“No, I didn’t even know the wizarding world existed until I got my Hogwarts letter.”

“Wow.” Ron stared off into space processing this.

“Can I ask you another question?” He says after a bit.

“Sure.” Harry doesn’t really care at this point.

“Um, do you want to be friends?”

Harry feels his chest squeeze. He’s only ever had a few friends before if you count the garden snakes in his aunt’s garden as friends. The thought of having a friend that he could really talk to made him giddy. It was such an overwhelming feeling that all he could manage to say without letting his excitement show too much was, “Yes.”

Ron and Harry spent the next few hours happily chatting. Rob told Harry all about his five older brothers and younger sister and how he always got everything hand-me-down. Ron told Harry about the main magical sport, Quidditch, and how they fly around on broomsticks and throw balls in hoops. Harry compared it to basketball and proceeded to explain what basketball was to Ron who had apparently never heard of it. 

At some point, an old lady pushing a light blue trolley opened their compartment door. 

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” 

Harry had never seen any of the sweets that she was selling. Instead of Snickers and Peanut Butter Cups, there was Shrieking Sherbet, Fizzing Wizzbees, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Harry bought a little of everything.

He laid the candy out on the table and organized them by what he was most interested in.

“Hungry?” Ron asked with his eyebrows raised.

“Starving.”

The trolley lady looked at Ron, “Anything for you’ dear?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He held up a roast beef sandwich.

The trolley lady left and Ron wrinkled his nose at the tightly wrapped sandwich, “My mum always forgets that I don’t like roast beef.”

“I’ll trade you one of these for your sandwich.” Harry slid a Chocolate Frog over to him.

Ron smiled, “Deal.”

Harry turned his attention to his own Chocolate Frog, “They’re not real frogs are they?” 

“No, they’re just enchanted to move like frogs.”

Harry opened his. The frog immediately jumped out of the packaging and climbed out the small open window.

“That’s unlucky, they’ve only got one good jump in them. What card did you get?”

Harry pulled the trading card out of the wrapper, “I got Albus Dumbledore.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty good one. I’ve got about five of him”

Harry flipped over the card, on the back in big, bold letters was: Albus Dumbledore. And underneath it in smaller letters was: Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts.

There was about a paragraph worth of text about Dumbledore that Harry wasn’t bothered enough to read so he slid the card into his pocket.

After they had eaten enough candy to satisfy them, Harry got up to take a quick restroom break and to stretch his legs. 

There was a bit of a wait for the bathroom and Harry found himself standing behind the blonde-haired boy from Diagon Alley.

“Oh, hello! You’re the boy from Madam Malkin’s.” the boy said, smiling. “I’m Draco Malfoy. What’s your name?” 

Wanting to avoid having yet another awkward conversation about him being famous Harry only introduced himself by his first name.

“What house do you think you’ll be in? I’ll probably be in Slytherin because all of my family has been, and I match the traits for it.” 

“I don’t really know about any of the houses.”

“Well, you’ve got Gryffindor, the brave and the bold, Ravenclaw, the clever and the witty, Hufflepuff, the loyal and the hardworking, and finally Slytherin, the cunning and the ambitious.” The boy, Draco, explains. “There is some competition amongst them but it’s not that big of a deal if you get sorted into any one of them, although there is a lot of discrimination against Slytherins because people see us and think that we only follow the dark lord and kill people in our free time.”

“Oh, that sucks. How do we get sorted?”

“You stand in line in front of everyone and they call out names from a piece of paper and when your name is called you sit down on a stool and they put a hat on your head. The hat judges you and then calls out what house you’re in.”

“What happens if you don’t get into any house?” Harry asks, he can imagine getting called up and sitting on the stool for hours until the hat gives up and tells him to go back to Privet Drive.

“That almost never happens.” Draco says, matter-of-factly, “And when it does They usually just let you choose what house you want.”

That made Harry feel a little better. Harry was going to ask more questions when an older student called down the corridor.

“Oi, Malfoy! Your bird fucking shit on my trunk!”

“Sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you at school, I hope we’re in the same house.”

The rest of the train ride was fairly uneventful. Harry and Ron both got changed into their robes right as the train was pulling into the station.

People hurriedly pushed out the doors and onto the platform. Harry shivered as he stepped into the cool night time air. He had hardly noticed it getting dark on the brightly lit train.

“First years! First years come with me!” Hagrid’s voice boomed over the chatter of students. “Alright now, follow me.” he led them down a steep and narrow path, his giant lantern bobbing ahead.

The sides of the path were so dark that looking into them felt like looking into a void. But a void was better than a cupboard so Harry didn't feel too unsettled; however Harry did feel Ron stick a little closer to him.

“You’ll get your first view of Hogwarts in just a moment!” Hagrid called over his shoulder.

The forest very suddenly parted and a huge castle across an even bigger lake came into view. There was a loud “Woooah” from the group. 

They split into groups of four and piled into boats that took them across the lake. Harry wondered how many firstyears fell into the lake during the ride.

Harry ended up in a boat with Ron, Hermione, and Draco, they were completely quiet in their awe of the large and illustrious castle.

After the boats made it across they were led to the castle and up a flight of stone steps and in front of a pair of large oak doors, where they were told to wait.

They walked up from the dock and after a while one of the doors opened and a tall and pointed woman in emerald green robes emerged. 

“Good evening, students. I am Professor McGonagall.” The woman said. “Now, before you can start your years at Hogwarts you must be sorted into one of the four houses. Now get in a line, the sorting ceremony is about to begin.”

Once they had all gotten in line the doors opened to reveal a huge hall with four long tables. Candles hung in the air, and the tables and the sky looked like they opened up into the clear night sky.

“It’s not the real sky,” Harry heard Hermione whisper, “It’s only charmed to look like it. I read about it in one of our textbooks, Hogwarts, A History .”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and Harry looked back over to her. She was holding a dusty-looking pointed wizard’s hat. “The sorting ceremony will now begin.”

Harry hoped he would get into a house where he could be the best he could be and help people.

Professor McGonagall started to read names out from a list. First was “Abbot, Hannah” who stumbled out of line and sat on the three-legged stool that was placed there. Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head. There was a moment’s pause then, “HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat suddenly shouted out and a loud cheer erupted from what Harry assumed was the Hufflepuff table and Hannah Abbot hurried over to it. 

The people’s uniforms at each of the tables were all different colors, one on the far right being red and gold, the one next to it being yellow and black, to blue and silver, and the one on the far left was silver and green.

“Bones, Susan” was also sorted into Hufflepuff, while “Brocklehurst, Mandy” was sent to Ravenclaw. “Brown, Lavender” became the first Gryfindor, then “Finch-Fletchley, Justin” into Hufflepuff. It continued like that for a bit, then “Granger, Hermione”.

Harry watched as Hermione nervously walked up to the stool and sat down. The hat seemed to take a longer time to decide. Finally, the hat shouted out, “RAVENCLAW!” and the blue and silver table erupted into cheers.

When “Malfoy, Draco” was called, Harry brought his attention back to the stool. The sorting hat barely even touched his head when it shouted out, “ SLYTHERIN!”

There weren’t many people left now, a few more names were called and then, “Potter, Harry”.

Murmurs filled the room, “Potter, did she say?” “The Harry Potter? The boy who lived?”

Harry swallowed and made his way to the stool. The hat was plopped down on his head and Harry heard a little voice in his head.

“Ah, a tricky one, let’s see. Loyal, not a bad mind, and -ah- quite cunning, I see. I think it shall be,”

The hall was dead silent as the hat drew its breath to sort The Harry Potter, the boy who lived, whatever you want to call him, into the house that would be his family for seven long years.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Chapter Text

The great hall filled with whispers. 

“ Did the hat say Slytherin? ” 

“How did the Boy Who Lived just go to Slytherin?”

Harry stood to walk to the Slytherin table, desperately wishing that he could just turn invisible.

“Oi! Potter! Over here!” Malfoy called, pushing the boy next to him over and patting the now open seat. 

Harry quickly rushed over examining the stone floors closely, the seat was still warm. Gross.

Professor McGonagall continued calling out names, but no one was paying attention except the red-headed boys sitting at the Gryffindor table who cheered when Ron got sorted and walked over to sit with them.

Malfoy adjusted his tie and spoke, “Well my father bought me an owl, she was 250 galleons and she's beautiful.”

“Oh what’s her name?”

“I decided to name her Hedwig because my moth- I, I read one of our history of magic books and I liked her name.”

“Oh yeah! She’s that one lady that helped orphans and poor people!” Harry said excitedly.

The girl named Parkinson rolled her eyes, “Well you would know about orphans wouldn't you?” She curled her hair around her finger while eating and stuck her short, upturned nose up and gracefully ate a forkful of green beans.

Harry notices Malfoy open his mouth to say something but is cut off by a pale white head appearing in the middle of the mash potatoes with a piece of parsley as garnish placed delicately on top.

Parkinson shrieked.

“Excuse me children, I did not mean to startle you.” 

“Hello Baron,” an older Slytherin said, rather casually.

“Well hello Warrington, how was your summer? Get the chance to read any new books?”

“Wait, Baron? As in the Bloody Baron?” the boy Malfoy had shoved piped up.

“Well I prefer to be called just Baron but yes.”

It was at this moment that Dumbledore tapped on his glass with a fork.

“Ahem, I would like to make a few announcements. First of all it should be noted that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students,” He glances at the Gryffindor table, “I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used in the corridors between classes, and lastly, the third floor corridor on the right side is out of bounds to those who do not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry turns to Draco, “What the fuu- fudge?????????” 

Once Dumbledore finished his speech he dismissed them to their common rooms.

“First year Slytherins, please come with me!” a boy with swept-back dirty blond hair ordered.

They were ushered out of the hall in a line and led to a large stairwell with many grand marble staircases leading to who knows where.

The walls of the stairwell were covered in paintings which, to Harry’s surprise, moved and talked.

“Come on, this way. Try not to get lost now.”

Harry decided it would be best to stick near Malfoy as he was the only one who showed any welcoming behavior towards Harry.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs they were led down a long hallway to a stretch of stone wall.

The prefect turned around to address the group of students, “There is a password to get into the common room, it changes once every fortnight and is posted on the notice board inside. Make sure to remember the password.” 

He then turned back to the wall and said “Serpens.”

The wall in front of them parted to reveal a grand room basked in a greenish light. The room was decorated with lowbacked dark green button-tufted leather sofas and green lanterns. On the far side of the room, furthest from the door, was a fireplace that was already glowing with warm flames. On either side of the fireplace, on the walls, hung two elaborate tapestries depicting some ancient story.

The boy turned to address the group, “The girls dormitory is to the right and the boys on the left. You’ll find that your luggage has already been brought up. Breakfast starts at 7, and classes start at 8:30. Now, for a rousing speech from your new head of house… Professor Severus Snape.”

Someone cleared their throats behind the new first years and they all jumped.

A batlike man emerged from the shadows behind them, he was tall, lanky and had oily black hair that framed his long face.

“I am Professor Snape… Your Head of House. In Slytherin, there are different rules for you. Always stick together, you will find that particularly vicious students from other houses will not hesitate to practice their spells on you. If you find yourself the victim of this, my office is always open and I am willing to help but, I will not hesitate to remove house points or deal out detentions if I find that you dealt with the situation ineptly.”

The professor’s eyes swept over

“Every student in a different house will be looking for weaknesses in our house. We remain united and vigilant. No arguments between housemates may occur outside of the common rooms and in your dorms, treat your conversations as if the walls have ears. I know that all of you will have your plots and plans… just do not get caught… and should you, you will receive twice the punishment that one of the other heads would have dished out for that offense.”

Snape’s eyes land on Harry and he feels a shiver sizzle down his spine.

Then Professor Snape’s eyes leave him, “Also, study groups with older students every friday during both free periods, and no, you do not need to show up for both. I expect every single one of my students to excel in their studies.”

They trudged up the stairs to their respective dormitories and, too tired to say much, got dressed in their pajamas. Harry fed Newt and bid him good night before collapsing in his bed and falling asleep.

Harry thinks that he must have slept relatively well because he doesn’t remember his dreams when he awakes.

“Mornin’ Newt,” Harry grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Ah you’re awake,” Malfoy was already dressed.

“Oh, hello Malfoy.”

“Just call me Draco, we’re going to be living with each other. Hurry up and get ready, breakfast is about to start. I’ll wait for you in the common room.”  And with that Malfoy Draco left Harry alone in the dorm.

After he had gotten dressed and gathered his stuff, he and Draco went down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

One thing about the room, it was fucking ginormous, it felt the same size of the american football fields and had four long tables stretching down; however, people were still squished on the benches, the people on the ends were struggling to stay seated. And at the opposite side of the room, a raised area had the teachers table, all of them sat in comfortable green satin chairs. Far enough away from each other to not be squished but close enough to chat, and in the center sat Albus Dumbledore his long white hair and beard were practically glowing.

Harry spotted Ron across the hall sitting at the Gryffindor table. When they made eye contact, Ron stood up from the table and crossed the room towards Harry.

“Harry! Have you tried the sausages? They're great!”

“Sure Ron, how’s Gryffindor Common Room?”

“Oh you know, it's nice, lots of red. How ‘bout you?”

“It’s nice, lots of green.”

“Excuse you, the Slytherin holds quite a lot of history and is more than ‘lots of green’. I don’t know if I can say that much for Gryffindor Common Room.” Draco butted in.

“Oh like you would know Malfoy. ” Ron scowled back.

“Ok guys, let’s calm down-”

Malfoy snapped, “No! I want to know why this red-haired dick is being an absolute coat hanger to me!” 

“Come on Harry, let's leave this asshole, you can come sit with me at the Gryffindor table.” Ron grabs Harry by the shoulder and pulls him towards it gently.

Malfoy gawks, “No!” he grabs Harry’s wrist and pulls him back equally gently, “Why would he sit at the Gryfindor table, he’s in Slytherin! Just wait til my father hears about this!”

“Well, I was Harry’s friend first! I met him on the train before we even got to Hogwarts, you’ve only known him for a few hours.”

“That is factually incorrect,” Draco sniffed. “I met him in Madam Malkins before the train!”

“Ok, ok, you’re both my friends. Let’s not fight.”

“But-”

“Please? At least have a truce.”

Draco and Ron stared at each other for a moment, considering each other.

Draco stuck out his hand, “I suppose we can have a truce for Harry’s sake, can’t we Weasley?”

They shook hands. Perhaps a little too aggressively and with too much squeezing.

“Hey Ron, schedules are being passed out!” a first year boy with sandy blond hair called.

“Coming Seamus! Well I’ll see you Harry. Malfoy.”

“Bye Ron.” Harry smiled

“Weasley.”

Harry and Draco went to sit at the Slytherin table and received their schedules.

Draco commented, “Well, we have Herbology first, that’s basically a free class.”

The next few days went well, lots of running around, lots of getting lost. Why isn’t there a map of this place? By the way, why the fuck do the staircases move ?! And what the hell is up with the fake steps? Draco got his foot stuck in one on the moving stairs and almost fell into the fucking void!

It was for this reason that they were almost late for potions with Gryffindor.

They quietly entered the room, and Harry dragged Draco by the wrist into the shadows of the wall to sneak them into a pair of seats in the middle of the room, in front of Ron and that one kid that lost his toad (Neville?).  

Snape bursts into the room, his robes billowing behind him.

“There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don’t expect any of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making; however,” His eyes sweep over the class  and land on where Harry and Draco are seated, “For those select few who possess the predisposition… I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and insnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

He sat at his desk and templed his fingers, “Now… can anyone tell me what the infusion of asphodel and wormwood create?”

The room was silent, Harry tentatively raised his hand. “Yes, Potter?”

Harry fidgeted with his hands, looking down, “Uhm, the draught of living death, Professor.”

“Very good Potter, five points to Slytherin.”

“What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

The toad boy that sat behind them shyly raised his hand.

“Yes, Longbottom?”

“Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant and are also known as aconite, Professor.”

“Excellent, it is fortunate that some of you are competent. Five points to Gryffindor.”

The rest of the class went by fairly uneventfully. Harry answered a few questions here and there. He found that he was actually pretty good at potions. Maybe he was going to like it here.

Chapter Text

Harry had gotten the hang of most of the things happening in Hogwarts by now. He had been there for three days already and seemed to be getting lost less and less. He will admit that the first time the horde of owls came to deliver mail startled him quite a bit but now it had just become part of the daily routine. It’s not as if Harry got any mail anyway.

 A blanket of owls swoops into the Great Hall, landing on different spots on the tables to deliver their respective packages—a cacophony of hoots joining the drone of chatter.

Draco’s owl, a snowy white named Hedwig, landed gracefully in front of them with a newspaper and a letter.

“May I see the newspaper, Draco?”

“Sure.”

Harry unrolled the paper. The front page read: 

-GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST-

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on July 31, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. 

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had; in fact, been emptied the same day. 

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you." said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

“Hey Draco, look at this,” Harry turned the paper toward him so he could read it.

“Hmm, oh yeah, I heard about that. What about it?” Draco asked, half-heartedly.

“That happened on my birthday, I might have been there when it was happening! Hagrid had emptied a vault when we went, what if it was the vault that was almost robbed?”

“I mean, it’s certainly an interesting coincidence but think of how many vaults there are in Gringotts. What did Hagrid take from the vault?”

“It was this little package but he told me not to tell anyone about it.”

“Well you failed at that- Didn’t Hagrid send you a note that said you can visit him for lunch anytime? If you’re really worried, ask him about it.” Draco served himself some sausages and toast, “We should probably hurry up, we have Charms in 30 minutes.”

It was the fourth charms class that had occurred, but it was the first class that they were going to do wand work in. Harry was excited, to be honest. 

Professor Flitwick was a short and stout person. He had to stand on a stack of books to see over the desk. Slytherin shared Charms with Ravenclaw and Harry sat in between Draco and Hermione Granger. 

Hermione Granger was very smart, and she made an effort to raise her hand to every question that Professor Flitwick asked. She had also, on multiple occasions, let Harry copy her notes when he would space out. Harry had come to like Hermione Granger but he never knew what to say to strike up conversation with her.

“Now,” Professor Flitwick squeaked, “Levitation is one of the most rudimentary magical skills; however, that does not mean it will be simple. Do not forget the wandwork we’ve been practicing together, swish and flick, do not forget or you will do the same thing my student once did, it took 4 hours to fetch him off the ceiling and stop him from floating away and then- well anyway, You may begin casting.” 

Hermione Granger eagerly picked up her wand, “Wingardium Leviosa.” On her first try, the feather lifted high up into the air.

“Oh well done, Ms. Granger! Bravo! Bravo!” Professor Flitwick clapped.

“That was really cool,” Harry said rather awkwardly.

“Thanks,” Hermione beamed.

“Um -anyway did you hear about the break-in at Gringotts… It happened on my birthday. ” Harry suddenly felt very warm.

“Oh… Cool.” The silence was very loud. As loud as a baby on an airplane.

”Uhhhm do you want to come with us to Hagrid’s during lunch?”

“Oh, um, sure. I’d love to," She smiled warmly

After finding Ron in the Great Hall, the four of them made their way over to Hagrid’s hut.

Harry knocked on the door and heard scrambling from inside as well as barking.

“Back Fang,” Hagid’s steps approached the door. The door pulled open a bit, “I’ll be with you in one second. Fang, back.”

Hagrid let them in while struggling to keep hold of the collar of a large, short-furred, black dog.

The hut was comprised of two rooms. The larger room consisted of a fireplace and a large table in the center of the room. On the fire was a copper kettle that had steam coming out of it’s spout. Harry caught sight of a large bed with a patchwork quilt through the door that led to the next smaller room.

“Make yourselves at home,” Hagrid said, letting go of Fang who excitedly bounded over to Ron and started to slobber all over him.

Hagrid served them all tea and cakes while asking them about their first week.

Harry spotted a newspaper clipping of the Gringotts Robbery on the table which reminded him to ask about it. He was just about to when Hermione beat him to it.

“Um, Hagrid? What’s this?” She held the clipping up, feigning naivety.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Hagrid didn’t meet any of their eyes.

“That happened on my birthday. We might’ve been there while it was happening,” Harry said, hoping to get more information out of him.

Hagrid just grunted and offered them more cakes.

“Ok, so there’s definitely something up with that,” Hermione said as they were walking back to the castle for their next classes. “I mean, he went all quiet about it.”

“I don’t know, maybe we’re just thinking too much into it.” Draco was still unconvinced.

“I think Hermione might be right,” Harry turned to Ron, “What do you think Ron?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know, Hagrid might just be a bit of a weird guy.” Ron was still nibbling on one of the cakes and idly kicking a stone.

“Hm, maybe.”

The next time Harry saw Ron and Hermione was flying class. Luckily for them, it was a mixed house class where all first years attend at the same time. Unlucky for them this meant that Justin Finch-Fletchy, Ernie Macmillan, and Zacharius Smith were there.

Harry barely talked to the three of them but he could hear them in class making snide remarks during all of the classes he was in with them. They were pretty much just generally annoying.

Harry noticed that they were teasing Neville Longbottom about something. Zacharius Smith grabbed a red spherical object from him and was playing keep away. 

“Ooh, look at this! Longbottom has memory issues, does he? This seems like a great thing to use for quidditch practice.”

“Hey! Give it back!” Neville looked very upset, “My grandmother gave it to me!”

Smith tossed it to Justin Finch-Fletchy. “Oh, was it a gift from your gran-gran?” He sneered before tossing it over to Ernie Macmillan.

Ron marched over to them. “Give it back.”

“OooOoooo, looks like Weasley has a crush on Longbottom! What are you, gay or something? Fucking poofer. Weasley and Longbottom sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“I said give it back!” The tips of Ron’s ears were red now. 

Macmillan threw the object across the field, “if he really wants it so bad he can get it himself, or maybe you should get it for him since you’re so in love with him.”

That was the last straw.

Ron shoved Macmillan.

“Ron!” Hermione pulled him back by the hood of his robe. “If a teacher catches you in a fight you’ll get in big trouble.”

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend Weasley. How ‘bout we meet tonight at midnight in the trophy room for a good old-fashioned duel? Or are you too chicken?” Ernie sneered.

Ron’s face was red and angry, “I’ll be there!”

“Come on Ron, let’s go,” Harry said, desperately hoping to pull Ron away before he tried to strangle someone.

Once they were farther away Hermione said “You aren’t really going to duel them are you? It wouldn't be a wise choice I don’t think.”

“Of course I’m going to duel them. They suck.”

“I think you’re going about this the wrong way,” A sly smirk spread across Draco’s face. “What you should really do is send Filch after them, they’ll get detention for a week and you won’t even have to get out of bed at midnight to go duel them.”

Ron gave him a mischievous grin, “You know Malfoy, you’re not half bad.”

“Alright everyone, line up, line up.” 

Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, marched onto the field. She was a woman of average height with short spiky gray hair and hawk-like golden eyes.

“Well, what is everyone waiting around for? Stand next to a broom.”

Once they were all ready she turned to address them, “Good, good. Now, I will begin by teaching you how to summon your broom. Stick your hand over your broom and say ‘Up!’”

Everyone started shouting “UP!”

Draco’s broom jumped into his hand after his third try, Harry’s on his fourth, and Ron's soon after Harry’s. Hermione had a little bit more trouble, probably due to nerves, but after she took a deep breath she was able to get her broom to corporate.

Once everyone’s broom had lept into their hands, Madame Hooch taught them how to mount it, which was followed by teaching them how to fly it. 

“When I blow my whistle, and only when I blow my whistle, you will kick off hard from the ground. Once you have risen a few feet off the ground, lean forward and land.” 

Neville Longbottom shifted nervously next to Harry.

“Now, on the count of three. ---One---Two--”

Neville pushed off the ground before she had finished counting and let out a shout of surprise. Harry, with quick reflexes, grabbed the end of his broomstick and pulled him back down before he got too high. 

“Good save, Potter,” Madam Hooch said, “Five points to Slytherin.”

The rest of the class went without much incident. When they had learned the basics of how to control the broom, some older students taught them the rules of quidditch and they practiced throwing the quaffle ball back and forth while in the air.

Once class had ended, they were given a bit of free time to do what they wished. Ron said something about a wizard's chess tournament and disappeared to Gryfindor's common room and Hermione opted to go to the library to check out some books so that left Harry and Draco. They decided to go back to their dorm to rest for a bit. 

They were the only ones in the dorm.

Draco collapsed in his bed and pulled out a book called ‘ Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst  the Vampires ’ by Eldred Worple.

Harry sat in bed and played with Newt.

“Did you bring any snacks from the food room?”

“Sorry Newt, I’ll bring you some after dinner tonight.”

“Harry, what the hell are you doing?” Draco was looking at him from his bed with a look of mild horror on his face.

“I’m talking to Newt?”

“Snakes don’t talk, Harry.”

“Newt does,” He held him up to show Draco, “Say hi Newt.”

“Sup.”

“ See !”

“All I heard was you hissing at him and then him hissing at me. Can you understand him?”

“Yeah? Can you not?”

“Harry, you’re speaking parseltongue.”

“What the fuck is parseltongue?”

“Snake language, but only a few people can speak it. Parselmouths don’t exactly have the best reputation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the most well-known Parslemouth was Salazar Slytherin, and you know how most people feel about Slytherins. And well the most recent parselmouth was, um…” Draco shifted uncomfortably. “...You-Know-Who.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it might be best to not mention it to anyone.”

“So, ” Newt hissed, “Do I still get snacks after dinner?”

Chapter Text

“I fucking hate this class. Quirrell is so boring and this room’s garlicky aesthetic gives me a headache.” Harry ranted quietly to Draco at their table in their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

They had just been assigned a 3rd essay about wand movement theory. Which is like so dumb honestly, like ‘Why do you move your wand in a circle instead of a triangle?’ Because thats the fucking wand movement? What do you mean why? That's just how it's done.

“There, there. It’s just a few more months ‘till winter break,” Draco said as he wrote down the assignment in his planner.

Harry put his head on the desk and groaned.

“Psst-- Potter. Malfoy.” Harry turned around.

“What is it Crabbe?” Draco asked exasperatedly.

“Do either of you know if this will be on the final exam?”

“Well, given how we’ve gotten 3 fucking essays on the it I think it will be.” Goyle piped up.

“Shut up, I wasn’t asking you.” Crabbe said, bumping him with his elbow.

“Idiot.” Goyle bumped him back.

“Only parts one and three will be on the exam,” Draco said, interrupting their squabble.

“Fuck, I slept through both of those.” 

“Do you want to borrow my notes during free period?” Harry offered.

“Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver.” Crabbe slumped forward in relief, “I am forever indebted to you.”

“Now- now children, pl- please refrain from- from whispering during class, or I- I’ll have to deduct p- p- points from Slytherin.” Quirrell said, failing at being intimidating.

“Sorry Professor.” they chimed.

A little bit later, Harry sat with the other Slytherins in the Great Hall during study period. He was having trouble getting much work done because, as it turns out, having hundreds of semi-supervised magical teenagers in one room is incredibly chaotic.

Not that Harry was complaining about not getting any work done. The headache from his previous period would not let up and Harry had a feeling that it might be connected to how hard he was scowling at his paper.

“Stupid Quirrell and his long ass boring essays.”

“Hey guys,” Hermione had come over to them.

“Hello Granger.”

“Hey Hermione,” Harry kept glaring at the paper.

“Jeez, what’s up with you?” Ron was there too, apparently.

“He’s moping about an essay,” Draco said.

“Oh, well Ron and I were going to go to the library and--”

“I think it’s more like you’re going to the library and I’m being dragged along.”

“Oh hush, you’re going of your own free will. Anyways, I was wondering if either of you wanted to come along?”

“Yes please, my eyes are hurting from staring at this page,” Harry got up to pack his things. “You coming Draco?”

He shrugged, “I could use a break.”

They waved bye to their housemates and followed Hermione and Ron out of the Great Hall.

“So,” Ron said as they walked up the first set of stairs, “You guys excited for the Quidditch game this Saturday? We’re totally going to beat you by the way,” The last part was directed to Harry and Draco.

“As if,” Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Slytherin’s got a waaay better seeker than Gryffindor, and better equipment.”

“Yeah, but it’s all about the skill distribution, Slytherin focuses all of their skill on one or two players. Gryffindor’s got it spreaded out over all of the players. By himself, the seeker’s not the best but working with the rest of the team they’re unbeatable.”

“If they’re so unbeatable, why has Slytherin won the house cup for seven years in a row?”

“Why you--” Ron was cut off by the sound of stone grinding and the ground moving beneath them.

“Ah! What the fuck!”

“The staircase is moving!”

“Stupid stairs,” Ron kicked one of the steps and his foot sank into it. “AAH! It’s eating me! It’s eating me! Go! Save yourselves! I’m done for! Goodbye cruel world!”

“Calm down Ron.”

“I am calm!”

“Hold on,” Harry and Draco grabbed Ron’s arms and pulled. His foot came out of the step with a pop.

“Oh wow, thanks guys. Really owe you for that one.”

“Can we get off the stairs before they start moving again?” Hermione called a few paces ahead.

They sprinted up the steps and onto the landing. Just in time for the staircase to move again, effectively stranding them.

“All right,” Hermione panted, “No more stairs. Ever. That sucked.”

“What do we do now?” Harry asked, leaning up against the door that probably led to a hallway or classroom, “Do we just wait for it to come back?”

“Guess we could go in there,” Draco pointed to the door.

Sure enough, the handle was unlocked and the hinges creaked as they opened. The room that they entered was actually not a room but a hallway. Said hallway was surprisingly dark given that it was 4 o’ clock in the afternoon and sunny. When the door shut behind them the rows of torches on the walls lit up at once with a fwoosh.

“Okay, is anyone else getting ‘we shouldn’t be here’ vibes? Cause that was really creepy.” said Hermione, in a hushed tone.

“Don’t be dramatic, Hermione. I’m sure it’s fineee .” Ron said, elongating the ‘e’.

“You were literally just screaming about your foot getting eaten,” Draco deadpanned.

Ron stuck his tongue out at him.

“Wait, hold on, what floor is this?”

“I dunno.” Ron and Draco said at the same time.

“Jinx! You owe me a butterbeer, Weasley.”

“Thanks guys, real helpful.” Harry glared at them. “Hermione?”

“I think it’s the third floor, why do you-- oh.”

“Shit, I really don’t think we should be in here.”

“ Mrrow ”

They turned around to see a cat sitting by the door that they came through.

“ Fuck, ” Ron muttered, voice low. “ It’s Mrs. Noris, we’re in really big trouble. We need to leave before Filch gets here. ”

“ How? She’s blocking the way out, ” Draco hissed.

Footsteps sounded from around the corner behind Mrs. Noris.

“Have you seen something, my sweet?”

“ Try that door, ” Harry whispered harshly, pointing at the door closest to Ron.

Ron grasped the handle and tried to turn it. “ It’s locked. Oh no, our school days are over, we’ll be expelled for sure. ”

“ Move over, drama queen, ” Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at the lock. “ Alohomora. ”

They rushed in and closed the door as quietly as they could. They listened through the door waiting with bated breath.

“What is it, sweet?” Filch’s voice was muffled. “Were there students wandering where they shouldn’t be?”

“ Mrrow ”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they get the proper… punishment .” Harry could hear the smile in his voice and could imagine it twisting upon his face. He shivered.

Filch’s footsteps grew softer and eventually they grew so soft that they couldn’t hear them.

Harry slowly let out his breath, “That was close.”

“Where did you learn how to do that spell, Granger?” 

“I’m just cool like that.” She smiled jokingly.

“Um, guys?” Ron squeaked.

Harry realized that Ron was not standing next to him like he had thought and was instead standing a little further away with his back facing them and looking up at something.

“Yeah, what’s u--” Harry followed Ron’s gaze. “Holy mother of cheese.”

Now here’s a wonderful question to ask, why the hell is there a giant three headed dog in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Because this place is fucking nuts and there is no way that it’s actually real.

The four of them stood there staring at the goliath of a dog in shock.

Am I dreaming? Harry thought, I bet I’m dreaming.

Then the dog growled.

Harry frantically felt for the doorknob. They fell backward, stumbling out the room and sprinting out the corridor.

Luckily for them, the stairs had returned. They only stopped running when they had gotten to an empty classroom on the fourth floor.

“What--” Draco huffed as he leaned against a desk. “What the hell was that?”

“I think that’s-- *huff* that’s why the third floor corridor is forbidden.” Ron spoke from where he had collapsed on the floor.

“It was standing on something.”

“What?”

“It was standing on something, a trap door,” Repeated Hermione, “Did you not notice?”

“No offense Hermione,” Harry said. “But I was a little busy fearing for my life.”

There was a pause as they tried to catch their breath.

Draco snickered.

“What?”

“Sorry, it’s just--” He covered his mouth to hide his smile. “Harry, did you say ‘holy mother of cheese’?”

“Oh my god” Ron, still on the floor, was smiling now too. “Oh my god you did.”

“Harry-- Harry,” Draco was trying really hard not to laugh. “Harry you curse all the time, why-- why cheese?”

Ron wheezed and rolled into a ball on his side, “Why cheese ?”

Hermione snorted.

“I was--” Harry couldn't help himself from giggling, he felt a bit crazed. “I think I was in shock.”

Hermione was shaking with silent laughter and Draco was using a desk to keep himself from falling over. 

It probably wasn’t even that funny, it was probably just the adrenaline. Harry’s eyes were watering.

“This has been the weirdest fucking day of my life.” Ron said, clutching his stomach.

Harry was, as usual, bone tired when he got to his dorm after dinner. He mumbled a goodnight to his dorm-mates before crawling into bed and shutting the curtains.

Newt wrapped himself around one of the posts of Harry’s bed, “ Hello. ”

“ Hey Newt, I got you some chicken. ” He said as quietly as possible while he fished a piece of chicken from out of his pocket. “ Sorry, it might have some lint on it. ”

From beyond the curtain Goyle had started snoring.

“ It’s okay. Goodnight. ” Newt swallowed the chicken whole.

“ Night buddy. ”

Harry fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

It’s dark. The moon is hidden by the thick canopy of leaves and branches above him.

It is dark but he can see. 

There is a creature ahead of him. A horse-like creature with a long horn. 

Its head is bent down to the ground. Its long, silver mane falls from its neck like a waterfall. 

It is a majestic creature. 

It does not notice him.

The creature’s tail swishes.

Back…

And fourth.

Back…

And fourth.

Back…

And fourth.

Back…

“ Kill it. ” 

Green lights up the trunks of the trees.

The creature makes no sound.

It falls.

Harry bolts up.

He is drenched in sweat. His head hurts. He’s thirsty.

He was dreaming about something. What was it? 

His mouth is dry, he should probably drink something. 

The dream, it was important. At least he thinks it was.

He feels for his glasses in the dark.

He was in a forest. He was in a waterfall. He was--

He finds his glasses and puts them on.

Wait, why was he in a forest?

He feels a little horse, he needs to drink something. He feels for his wand.

Horse. There was a horse. He was in a horse. No wait--

He finds his wand. “Lumos,” he croaks.

No, it wasn’t a horse. It was something else.

His head feels like it’s going to explode. He drinks all of his water. “Nox.”

It was dark. There was a forest. Something was not a horse. There was a waterfall.

He gets back in bed. Fucking hell, his head hurts.

Something was swishing.

Swishing.

Swishing.

Swishing…

Harry falls back asleep.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, I feel like it.” Harry put his head on the table. “I have a headache.”

Draco forked some sausage onto his plate, “Here.”

“‘m not hungry.” 

“Mother says food helps when you’re sick.”

“Not sick, head hurts.”

“Well, then I say that food helps when your head hurts,” He poked him in the arm, “Eat it.”

Harry sat up and stared miserably at his food.

“Either that or I’m taking you to Madame Pomfrey.”

“Fine.”

Stupid horse waterfall dreams.

To be fair, after a few sausages Harry’s headache had cleared enough to actually hear his own thoughts. He nibbled on some toast as he watched Professor Quirrell levitate jack-o-lanterns to the ceiling to join the floating candles. Oh right, today’s Halloween.

Back at the Dursleys, Halloween meant sitting in his closet and listening to the doorbell and the Trick-or-Treaters through the door, then watching Dudley stuff his face with chocolate without getting any for himself. The one time the Dursleys did let him come trick-or-treating, Dudley had eaten all of his candy too. Except for a single box of raisins. Harry hates raisins.

“Hey Harry, I just thought of something,” Draco’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Do you think the dog and the trapdoor have something to do with the Gringotts vault that got robbed?”

“I thought you weren’t convinced about that.”

“Well, hypothetically speaking, if Hagrid did take something important out of that vault, and if someone else was looking for that thing, wouldn’t the safest place for it be Hogwarts? You know, since some of the most powerful witches and wizards are here, as well as hundreds of feral children with access to defense spells.” He paused, “Hypothetically, of course.”

“I think we might need to visit Hagrid soon.”

Honestly, Harry’s beginning to think that getting locked in the room with a three headed dog would be significantly better than a history class with Ernie Macmillan. At least the three headed dog doesn’t make dick jokes every 10 seconds.

“Emeric the Evil was born somewhere in Great Britain during the Medieval times. Not much is known about Emeric the Evil. His magical abilities developed early on in his childhood. At some time during his life he became in possession of a very powerful wand called the Elder Wand. He used this wand to…” Professor Binns droned on and on in the same monotone voice. It was so boring that Harry wished a dragon would crash through the window so that he would have something to do.

“You know what I’d do with a very powerful wand?” Macmillan snickered somewhere behind him.

Yep, three headed dog over this any day.

Since the sky was pouring rain, flight class was canceled. Harry and Draco met up with Ron in the Great Hall. The last minute decorations were still being completed as it was a couple hours before the Halloween Feast. 

“Hey, where’s Hermione?”

Ron shrugged, “I think I saw her run off to the bathroom but that was at least an hour ago.”

“She might be grabbing something from her bunk. We could go ask one of her dorm-mates, maybe.” Draco suggested.

Harry tapped Padma Patil on the shoulder. “Hey sorry, do you know where Hermione is?”

She smiled sadly at him, “She’s been crying in the girls’ bathroom all evening.”

“Is she alright?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know, sorry, she won’t let anyone convince her to come out.” Patil leaned closer and dropped her voice to just above a whisper, “Though if you ask me, those Hufflepuff boys have been teasing her a lot recently.” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder to where Macmillan, Finch-Fletchley, and Smith were joking around.

“Thanks Patil,” Harry waved to her as she walked over to the Ravenclaw table.

“I’m going to kill them,” Ron muttered.

“I’m going to save her some food and we can ask someone to check on her after the feast,” Harry said.

They walked to their respective tables and started to eat. There was lots of good food and lots of chatting. Harry grabbed some dinner rolls and slipped them in his pocket, as well as some beef for Newt.

He was just about to serve himself some mac and cheese when the door to the Great Hall banged open.

“TROLL! TRRROOOOLL!” Professor Quirrell was screaming so hard it made Harry’s headache come back a bit. “TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!” He paused, looking pale. “Thought you ought to know.” Gasped, then he dramatically passed out on the floor.

Chaos erupted. Everyone was screaming, a few people got up to run. Where? Who knows.

“SILENCE!” Professor Dumbledore yelled. Everyone shut up.

“Prefects, please lead your houses to your dormitories. Except for Syltherin, please go to the library instead. No one is allowed to enter the dungeons without explicit instruction from a faculty member. Teachers, please follow me.”

In the chaos of everyone trying to leave at once, Ron found his way over to them. “Hermione!” He said, “She doesn’t know.”

“Crap. We need to go tell her.” Harry said.

“We’ll get detention for weeks if we get caught,” Draco warned.

Quietly they slipped away from the main crowd once they neared the bathroom. They rushed down the deserted corridor and turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps coming from down the hall. They hid behind a stone griffin statue.

Percy Weasley came rushing down the hall and up the stairs.

“What is he doing? Why isn’t he in the dungeons with the teachers?” Harry asked.

“Search me.”

“He’s going up to the third floor,” Draco hissed. “He might be checking on the trapdoor.”

“He could be-- Do you guys smell that?” Ron sniffed the air.

There was the sound of big thundering steps.

“What’s--” Harry shoved his hand over Ron’s mouth just as a massive twelve-foot tall troll thudded past the statue, dragging a large club behind it. It went down the hall before turning into a doorway and disappearing from view.

“Bloody hell,” Ron whispered. “That’s what a troll looks like?”

“Guys, I think it just went into the girls’ bathroom,” Draco said faintly.

“Oh no.”

There was a loud scream. They rushed to the bathroom.

Hermione was backed up into a corner looking terrified. The troll was standing over her, raising his club high above his head getting ready to strike. Hermione looked too scared to do anything.

“Hermione move!” Ron yelled. He grabbed some rubble that was clearly from a previous club strike and threw it at the troll.

The troll’s club swung down and hit the sinks, narrowly missing Hermione who had jumped out of the way just in time.

“We’ve got to distract it!” Draco shouted over the sound of pipes spraying high pressure water. “Trolls lose focus easily!”

Harry followed Ron’s example and chucked a piece of porcelain at the troll’s head. “Hey! Yoo-hoo! Over here meat-head!” 

The troll yelled out angrily and turned around. Its eyes landed instantly on Harry and he raised his club.

“Uh oh.” Harry jumped back as the large stick crashed down into the tiles in front of him, just where he had been standing. The club started to rise up from the ground and Harry got a very stupid idea.

He jumped up and grabbed the end of the club. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Draco yelled.

Harry climbed up the club. The troll, now noticing that someone was on his big stick, started to swing it around in the air to shake Harry off. 

“I’m distracting it!” He yelled back to Draco, holding on for dear life.

Hermione, who was still stuck by the sinks, threw a piece of tile at the troll’s face, “Pea-breath! Come and get me!”

The troll paused his swinging and turned to look at Hermione, giving Harry enough time to drop from the club and onto the troll's shoulders. He wrapped his arms around its neck to try and suffocate it enough to pass out. That got the troll’s attention again and it started to hit at Harry to get him off. 

“Ah! A little help here guys!”

Draco hit it with a piece of wood. 

The troll was thoroughly confused now. It growled and went to swing at Draco.

Harry punched the troll in the nose to stop it from swinging. The troll roared and hit Harry hard enough that it knocked him off of it’s shoulders.

“Umfh.” The wind was knocked out of him.

Now that Harry was no longer around its neck, it went to swing at Draco again.

“Do something Weasley!”

“I’m on it!” Ron pulled out his wand and aimed it at the club. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

The club lifted out of the troll’s hand and above it’s head. It turned over and dropped on the troll’s head with a sickening crack.

The troll swayed for a moment before falling. Harry scrambled out of the way before it could land on him. The whole room shook.

Draco helped Harry up. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping through him. He was probably shaking.

“You guys okay?” Hermione asked, stepping over the troll's arm.

“Yep.”

“I’m okay.”

“Just a bit winded.” Harry rubbed his back.

“Is it dead?” She said standing over its limp head.

“No, just unconscious.” Ron pocketed his wand.

“Oh my goodness!” They all turned around to see Professor McGonnagall, shocked and pale. Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell entering the room close behind her.

Quirrell glanced at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat down on the only remaining toilet seat.

“What on earth were you thinking?” Professor McGonagall cried. “You were lucky you were not killed! Why did you not go with your prefects?”

Professor Snape’s eyes landed on Harry and Draco. Harry felt very ashamed and his head was starting to hurt from when he fell.

“Please Professor McGonagall, they were looking for me.” Everyone looked towards Hermione.

“Miss Granger?”

“Um well, you see,” Hermione stared at the ground. “I was hiding out in the restroom because I didn’t want to go to the feast. I didn’t know that there was a troll and they came to tell me so I wouldn’t get hurt. If they hadn’t come I probably would be dead.”

McGonagall removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, “If you knew that there was a student missing you should have told a teacher or a prefect instead of running off on your own.”

“There was no one to tell! With all the chaos, it was impossible to get to someone to tell them!” Ron said angrily. 

To be fair they hadn’t tried but that was probably true.

McGonagall let out a long sigh, “You are all very lucky to be alive right now. No points will be taken from any of you but if I find any of you neglecting direct orders it will be an immediate detention. Please head back to your dormitories.” Then she turned and walked out of the bathroom, muttering about eleven year olds taking down mountain trolls. Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell followed.

Professor Snape was limping, which was definitely weird, but Harry was too tired to care. He’d tell his friends later.

As they were walking back to their dorms Harry fell behind to walk with Hermione.

“Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Mostly just sorry, though,” She said quietly.

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“Well, if I didn’t spend the entire evening crying in the girls’ bathroom or if I hadn’t forgotten my stupid wand in my dorm, then you guys wouldn’t have had to go and save me.”

“You didn’t have your wand?”

“Yeah, that’s why I was so scared . There was literally nothing I could do to defend myself.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I just feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Hermione. You’re the smartest witch of your generation, heck you’re probably the smartest person of your generation, magic or not. But anyways, you’re not stupid, don’t let anyone tell you that.”

“Thanks Harry,” She let out a watery laugh.

“Oh! Do you want some bread?”

“Huh?”

Harry took the bread out of his pocket. “I grabbed you some from dinner ‘cause I figured you’d be hungry. It’s a bit squashed though.”

She pulled him into a very tight hug, “Thank you Harry. I mean it.”

He hugged her back, “Of course.”

Chapter Text

Harry had never seen a proper quidditch game before. He knew what it was and how it worked from Ron and Draco’s never-ending ramblings about it, but beyond the names and purposes of the positions and balls, Harry was basically clueless. Usually, when Ron or Draco started to talk about more advanced things, like strategies or formations or what type of broom was best, he would end up zoning out and nodding his head every time there was a lull in the flow of constant information. 

He would have thought that Hermione at least shared his experiences in this regard, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, she had read several books about Quidditch including history, broomcare, and tactics, so in some cases, she knew more about Quidditch than Ron and Draco did. But this was passive information for her, she wasn’t obsessed with it and she didn’t have any particular interest in going to a game. Harry had convinced her to come, however, because Ron and Draco were forcing him to go and he couldn’t handle being the only one who wasn’t obsessed with the sport.

And so, in the brisk early morning on the first Saturday of November, Harry found himself squished between Draco and Ron in the Quidditch pitch bleachers, with Hermione on the other side of Ron, and Hagrid (who never missed a game) sitting behind them.

“Did you know,” Hermione said smartly over the sound of the crowd, “That there are seven hundred ways to commit a foul and they all happened in The Quidditch World Cup in 1473?”

Harry didn’t have a chance to respond to that as the players started to come onto the pitch and the crowd immediately erupted into cheers.

The Slytherin team was led by Marcus Flint, a burly sort of character that Harry had seen around the common room. He had led Slytherin to victory the previous year and was quite the chaser. Or so Harry had been told.

The Gryffindor team was led by Oliver Wood, who had inherited the title this year from Ron’s older brother Charlie. The Gryffindor team apparently had trouble finding a seeker this year, they had only found Maclaggen two months ago which hadn’t given them much time to prepare. Harry also knew that George and Fred were the team’s beaters.

The players lined up on the field. Madame Hooch stood in the middle holding the quaffle. The two captains walked forward and shook each other's hands. Madame Hooch then tossed the quaffle in the air,  blew her whistle and the players were off.

Harry had trouble following what was happening at first. The players zipped around like bullets, the quaffle passing between all of them faster than Harry’s eyes could track. The commentary was only a little bit of a help but it would blend into the noise of the crowd if Harry didn’t actively focus on it. 

“Gryffindor in possession of the quaffle, clear field ahead – dodges a bludger – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORES!” 

Ron jumped up, cheering loudly. Draco groaned.

The back and forth happened for a while, currently, the score was 40 to 30 with Gryffindor in the lead. Gryffindor was about to make another goal when the Golden Snitch whizzed past one of the chasers’ heads. The two seekers immediately went into a nose dive after it. They were neck and neck but Mclaggen was just a little faster. The whole crowd was on edge and Harry felt himself leaning forward in his seat.

WHAM!

The Slytherin seeker, Higgs, had purposefully slammed into Mclaggen. Presumably, he had thought that he wouldn’t catch the snitch before Maclaggen. 

There was a quick recess as Madame Hooch issued a foul to the Slytherins and a free shot for the Gryffindors. 

“Oh, come on!” Ron shouted angrily, “We almost had it!”

“Boo! Red card! Get him off the pitch!” Dean Thomas, a first-year Gryffindor, yelled.

“What the heck are you talking about, Dean?” Seamus Finnigan, also a first-year Gryffindor, said.

“Red card? Like in soccer.”

Draco mumbled something about how Higgs clearly could have caught it in time if he tucked his head in more when he dived.

The game resumed, Gryffindor in the lead 50 to 30. The snitch was not seen for another 30 minutes, in which Slytherin scored 3 more goals placing them in the lead. The second time it was seen, Higgs had been to one to spot it. He barreled towards it, with Maclaggen close behind. Not close enough though as, after a few tense moments of the two seekers diving for the snitch, Higgs shot up and out of the dive, a small golden ball held triumphantly over his head in a fist.

Draco stood up, cheering loudly, Harry felt obligated to do the same. It was his house after all. Hermione was politely standing and clapping. Ron had his face buried in his hands.

“There, there, Ron,” Hagrid said, patting him on the shoulder, “It’s only the first game after all.”

Ron sighed and stood up to clap too.

“Good game, Weasley.” Draco stuck his hand out to him. 

Ron shook it, “Good game.”

Afterward, Hagrid invited them to tea so they could warm up a bit. 

“Just so you know,” Ron said over his cup, “We totally would have won if it weren’t for your seeker running into ours.”

“I’m sure you would have. That’s probably why he ran into him in the first place.”

Hagrid’s hut was quite pleasant. He had started decorating for the holidays so garlands hung from the rafters and festive candles had been set out on the fireplace mantle. A nice fire was burning in the hearth and Hagrid was standing over the fire, stirring a large pot of soup, humming cheerfully to himself.

Draco and Ron were sitting at the table, still debating parts of the game. If a move was legal, if a point should have been counted, which team had the better x,y,z. Hermione had placed herself in one of the arm chairs with the Daily Prophet in one hand and a large mug in the other. Harry was on the floor, his back resting against the coffee table and Fang’s head in his lap. 

The four of them hadn’t had time to get all together since the events of a few nights ago. Harry realized that he hadn’t told them about Snape’s limp. Now was probably as good time as any since midterms were coming up and after that winter break.

“Hey guys? After the troll attack, did any of you think Professor Snape was limping or am I just crazy?”

“Oh yeah,” Ron said, “When he came in his leg looked kind of messed up. His robe was torn too.”

Hagrid had stopped whistling now.

“Why do you ask?” Draco said.

“Well doesn’t it seem weird? He was fine at the feast. That and Percy going to the third floor…”

Hermione leaned forward with interest, “You don’t think he went to go check on the trapdoor and got attacked by the dog, do you?” 

Hagrid spat his tea, “How do you know about Fluffy?”

“Fluffy?”

“Hagrid, why do you know the three-headed-dog’s name?”

Hagrid faltered, “Erm, well, he’s mine. I bought him from a Greek chap I met at the pub. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-” He cut himself off.

“Yes?” Harry said eagerly.

“Don’t ask me any more questions. It’s top secret.”

“But what if the thing Fluffy’s guarding is in danger?” Hermione said.

“Nonsense. Hogwarts is the safest place in the world.”

“Then how was a troll let in? Because that wasn’t very safe”

“Listen, no one’s trying to steal anything. You kids shouldn’t even know about Fluffy. You forget about all that. What Fluffy’s guarding is between Nicolas Flamel and Dumbledore only.”

“Ah ha! So there’s someone named Nicolas Flamel!”

Hagrid groaned, “I should not have said that.”

The first snow fell about two weeks before Christmas. Hogwarts had awoken to find the grounds covered in a thick layer of white and the lake completely frozen over.

Despite the fires that warmed the common rooms and Great Hall, Harry still found himself putting on an extra layer or two in order to keep warm. He also found it particularly difficult to get out of bed in the morning as his blankets were always far more inviting than stepping onto the cold stone floor barefoot. He needs to invest in some slippers. 

He was still having nightmares but they had been less creepy recently and were usually of him forgetting to do his homework or memories from when he was little. His headaches had not lessened though. He was constantly plagued by a dull ache in his forehead that would get worse with sudden loud noises, strong smells, and whenever he would get annoyed. Luckily he could mostly avoid or ignore those, unless it was Quirrell’s room in which Harry had to suffer through the overwhelming garlic smell and unnecessarily long and stupid essays four days a week. Harry mostly just chalked it up to the atmospheric pressure or the change in the weather or the stress of midterms. Whatever so that he didn’t have to worry about it.

In his spare time, when they were not studying for midterms, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco would head down to the library to look for books about Nicholas Flamel. So far they were having no luck. Harry had read through about half a dozen books about the greatest wizards and witches of the 20th century.

He was just skimming through Notable Magical Names of Our Time when his eyes paused on an entry.

It was a short entry. About a paragraph in length. Right above it in slightly larger bold letters was “Harry Potter”. It read:

Born on July 30, 1980 to Lily and James Potter. Only a year old when You-Know-Who entered the Potter residence on October 31, 1981. He is the first known person to survive the killing curse. Sometimes called “The Boy Who Lived”. See also: You-Know-Who (pg. 170). 

Halloween. His parents had died on Halloween and he didn’t even know. He had spent the anniversary of his parents death fighting trolls and no one bothered to tell him.

Harry snapped the book closed, not bothering to read anymore, Flamel wasn’t in it anyway. 

He stood to place it back on its shelf. On his way back to the table he spotted the door to the Restricted Section. Only 6th and 7th years were allowed in the Restricted Section without a handwritten note by a teacher. It apparently had many books about dark magic and subjects that were inappropriate or dangerous for regular studies. 

Harry wondered whether he could find any books about Nicholas Flamel in there. He peered through the dusty glass windows on the door.

“What are you looking for, boy?”

Harry very nearly jumped out of his skin. “Uh- nothing,” he squeaked.

“Then you best get out,” The librarian, Madame Pince, said branding her feather duster at him, “Go on. Out!”

Harry left the library wishing he had come up with an excuse quicker.

Despite the snow and excessive amounts of garland that adorned nearly every banister and door frame in the castle, Harry couldn’t bring himself to feel very festive. It seemed like everyone apart from Harry was going home for the winter holidays. Of course Harry was glad to not have to spend more time with the Dursleys, but he would have liked it if he wasn’t alone during that time too.

Luckily, this melancholy phase was short lived. A few days before break Ron ran up to him in the Great Hall during breakfast one morning with a letter in his hand and a huge grin on his face.

“Harry! Guess what? My mum and dad are going to visit my brother Charlie in Romania so I’m staying for the holidays!”

“Really? That’s great!”

“Yeah! We’re going to make this the best Christmas ever!”

Harry was given permission from Professor McGonagall to stay in the Gryffindor Common Room over the break as not a single Slytherin was staying for the holidays. Draco had apologized, but he had a family to see and parties to attend. 

“I’ll ask Mother and Father if I can stay next year,” Draco said before leaving on the train.

Harry had told him not to worry and to have a good break.

Hermione was similarly apologetic, but for different reasons. 

“I’ve made a list of all the books to check for Flamel next. Oh, I wish I could stay and keep looking.”

“It’s alright Hermione, I’ll write to you if we find anything. Have a good Christmas.”

She hugged him, “You too Harry.”

Harry woke up on a spare cot on Christmas morning to Ron shaking him excitedly.

“Merry Christmas, Harry! Come on, I think our presents are downstairs.”

“I’ve got presents?”

“Yeah, come on,” He said, practically pulling Harry out of bed.

The Gryffindor Common Room’s fire place was already lit and a large gleaming Christmas tree stood in the corner with many different colored packages piled underneath it. 

Ron immediately extracted two packages from under the tree, both wrapped in the same paper, and handed one to Harry.

“This one’s from my mum,” Ron said, shifting his weight nervously.

Harry opened them carefully as to not rip the wrapping paper too much. Inside was a tin of homemade fudge and a green sweater with a silver “H” on it. Harry couldn’t help but stare.

“She likes to knit sweaters for people so I asked her to make you one since you weren’t going home for Christmas. She usually makes one for all of us an they’re really comfy and warm and uh…” Ron trailed off anxiously. “Do you like it?”

Harry’s eyes were blurrier than usual. He hastily balanced the tin on the back of a couch and pulled the sweater on over his head. It was incredibly soft and fit well, just a little long in the sleeves.

“It’s perfect,” He beamed.

Fred and George burst in though the portrait hole with their arms full of treats, wearing sweaters of their own.

“Merry Christmas!” Fred announced loudly.

“Wait, what were you two doing out there?” 

“Getting snacks of course,” George tossed Ron a Chocolate Frog, “Don’t tell Percy.”

“Hey look! Harry’s got a Weasley sweater too!” Fred examined him with mock contemplation, “It’s better than ours.”

“Suppose she wants to make a better impression than with us. Why aren’t you wearing yours, Ron?” George demanded, “Don’t you want to match with your wonderful big brothers?”

“I haven’t opened it yet,” Ron said, dodging George’s tackle. “Give me a second!”

“Would you quiet down a bit. It’s not even 7.” Percy walked in looking like he had woken up a few minutes ago.

“The gang’s all here!” Fred said, “Hurry up and get your sweater on, Percy. We need to look like we’re in a cult.”

“We’re not in a cult, and where did you get those?” Percy gestured to the pile of candy that Fred and George had dumped on a chair.

“Bought them.”

Percy narrowed his eyes, “When?”

“The sweater, Percy! Mum can sense when her children don’t wear the sweaters. You wouldn’t want her to be upset would you?” Fred exclaimed dramatically.

“Ok, ok, but we’re talking about this later.”

“He’ll forget about it once we go down for breakfast,” George whispered to Ron and Harry.

Ron spoke up, “Come on Harry, let's see your haul!”

Harry reached for the closest present addressed to him, the wrapping was sparkly peppermint. He carefully unwrapped the wrapping paper so as to not rip it. Inside was a book from Hermione! A Study in Scarlet by Arthur Conan Doyle bound in red cloth with gold lettering. Harry folded the unripped wrapping paper and put it to the side. He moved on to another present not as neatly wrapped with plainish paper, inside was a multitude of sweets from Ron along with a wooden comb and a note saying his mum had reinforced it to be really strong plus able to get through most tangles. The third gift, from Draco, was wrapped in sophisticated dark green paper with an overly extra silver bow. Inside was an incredibly expensive-looking potions knife with snakes wrapping up the handle.  

“Holy shit!” Fred exclaimed from his own pile, “What rich, pretentious, dick gave you that?”

“Draco did,” Harry said in absolute awe over the knife.

“That probably costs more than my fucking house,” Percy said under his breath.

George gasped, “Oi! Watch your goddamned, fucking mouth Percy, there are children present!”

The last present was one from Hagrid, a lumpy parcel in brown paper. Inside was a hand-carved wooden flute which Harry twidled on. 

“Harry!” Ron exclaimed, with Harry’s gifts for him in hand, “Thank you!” The gifts in question were many chocolate frogs and three different Chudley Canon shirts.

“No problem Ron,” Harry smiled warmly.

Percy returns from his dorm, where he left the presents he had gotten then spoke loudly to the group of redheads ft. Harry Potter, “Breakfast time, we have 11 year olds among us, food is important for their developing brains.” Percy shooed them out of the common room, only giving them enough time to rush upstairs and get dressed quickly. The large group left the Gryffindor common room, Percy tripping out of the portrait door. 

The trek to the great hall was full of George and Fred’s jeers and taunts to Percy. Ron combed Harry’s hair with the gift he had given Harry. Harry walked into the Great Hall surrounded by a gaggle of Weasleys and a side parted hairstyle. His hair was the neatest, had the least tangles, and was the longest for the first time in forever. Petunia always insisted he cut his hair when it was getting too long, but her tyranny was no longer and Harry hypothesized that maybe his hair wouldn't stick up as weirdly if it had just a tad bit more length. 

Their breakfast was a strange one, the four house tables had been dismissed, replaced with a single table where everyone, including the teachers were eating. Some seventh years had eaten earlier and left the remaining Hogwarts population to most of the staff, a couple of fifth and second years, and a single third year.

They ate breakfast, the twins teasing enough people for there to not be a single moment of silence, with the occasional Percy-ramble to a professor. Harry sat in silence and observed in wonder. No one was arguing with any real conviction, no one was crying, no one was being punched, no one was even sad.

The rest of the day was a blur, Harry and the Wealeys’ went flying, ate lunch, and when Percy went to the library the twins kidnapped Ron and Harry then showed them a couple secret shortcuts to classes as a christmas present, before meeting back up with Percy for the Christmas Feast.

The Great Hall somehow looked more spectacular than it had during breakfast and lunch. The large Christmas trees that surrounded the hall had been lit up with candles and dazzling garland. The enchanted ceiling had snow falling that would magically melt before landing on anything. On the table was an impressive array of foods: turkey, potatoes, ham, gravy, roasted vegetables, cranberry sauce, stuffing, you name it. Stacks of wizard crackers lined the tables that, unlike their non-magical counterparts, exploded with a loud bang and tiny fireworks and contained bizarre gifts that would appear in a puff of blue smoke. Harry received a rear admiral hat and his own set of wizards chess from two poppers as well at several white mice that quickly scurried out of the Great Hall.

Tired and well fed, Harry and Ron went up to bed as soon as they got back from the feast. Harry was about to collapse into his bed when he spotted a package wrapped in silver on the end of it. He examined it and found no name attached.

“Ron, did you put this here?”

Ron looked over “No? Is there a name?”

Harry shook his head.

Ron sat across Harry on the bed, “Well go on, let’s see what it is.”

Inside was large silky piece of fabric that shimered in the light. Harry glanced at Ron who looked just as confused as he did.

“Looks like a blanket,” Ron said, “A really thin blanket.”

Harry stood up and unfolded it. He threw it around his shoulders to test it’s warmth. Ron’s mouth dropped open.

“Holy shit, that’s an invisibility cloak!”

“A what?”

“Look down.”

Harry did and let out a sound of surprise. His body had become complete transparent and he was now just a floating head.

“What the fuck?”

“Those are super rare! I don’t think I know anyone that’s even seen one.”

“Who would give me one of these?”

Ron checked the box, “Oh look, there’s a note here.”

Harry took the cloak off and sat back down on the bed to read the note.

Your father left this in my possession. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

- A Very Merry Christmas to you

There was no signature.

“Well that leaves waaaay more questions than answers,” Ron said.

A few days after Christmas, Harry and the Weasleys had a snowball fight. Well, it started off as a snowball scuffle and then became a snowball war. 

Fred came up from behind Percy and dumped snow down his shirt, which caused Percy to chase after him with his own fistfull of snow. Percy eventually caught up to him and smooshed the snow into Fred’s hair. George, swearing to avenge Fred, started to pelt snowballs at Percy. Ron, seeking his own vengeance from George for when he ate one of his chocolate frogs, started throwing snowballs back at George. Harry joined in.

By the time they were done, it was nearly dark. They all headed up to the Gryffindor common room to dry off and get warm.

Harry sat on one of the couches parallel to the fireplace watching a chess match between Fred and Ron on the coffee table. Fred was losing terribly. Percy was sitting with his back to the fire and his face scrunched up in focus, strategizing for when he was going to play next. George plopped down next to Harry with a bag of fudge flies.

“You’ve got quite the snowball aim, Potter.” He said, angling the bag so Harry could take a few. “You ever thought about being a Chaser?”

Harry shook his head, “I didn’t even know what Quiditch was until a few months ago.”

“Oh right. The first proper game you watched was the one in November. I remember Ron mentioning that.” He tossed a fudge fly up into the air and caught it with his mouth.

“Do you really think I could be a good chaser?” Harry asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh definitely, you could probably make the Slytherin team if you practiced at it.” He paused, thinking it over. “Though you might be a better Keeper, you kinda give off those vibes.”

“Checkmate.” Ron said.

“Not again,” Fred groaned, “How are you so good at this?” 

“He learned from Bill. Now scooch, it’s my turn.” Percy nudged him with his foot.

“I’m playing after!” Harry exclaimed, moving over to where Percy had been sitting previously.

The match went on for much longer than Fred and Ron’s had. Percy was in complete focus, determined to beat Ron this time. Ron, however, was relaxed and even a little distracted due to Fred and George trying to toss the fudge flies into each other's mouths. Eventually, the two got bored and decided to head up to bed. It was 11 pm when Percy lost and decided to go to bed as well.

“Don’t stay up too late,” He grumbled.

“We won’t,” Ron said as he set up the board for the next game.

He hadn’t lost once in the twenty or so games that he played that night. It didn’t seem like he really needed to try to win either, he was just that good at it.

“How did you even learn how to play chess?”

“I inherited this board from my grandfather when I was 3,” he said as he moved the first piece. “I had watched my brothers play all the time so I already knew the rules by then. How I got good at playing was by learning from my eldest brother Bill. We used to play all the time during holiday breaks when he’d come home from Hogwarts. I haven’t played against him since he went to Egypt to become a curse breaker, but I’m determined to win against him the next time we play.”

“Your family sounds so cool,” Harry said wistfully.

Ron gave him a quick sympathetic look and took one of Harry’s knights, “They’re alright, I guess.”

They fell into a silence as Harry tried to focus on not losing too many pieces.

“As far as I’m concerned,” Ron said after a moment, “You’re an honorary Weasley. Once you start receiving Weasley sweaters and fudge, there’s no turning back.”

Harry’s heart warmed, “Thanks Ron.”

“No problem,” Ron said, trying to sound casual but his ears were turning a bit red. He cleared his throat rather awkwardly, “Um, so did you find anything about Flamel in the library?”

Harry decided to let him change the subject, “No, I’m wondering if we could try looking in the Restricted Section.”

“That’s an idea. How would we get a pass for it though?”

“We could ask Professor McGonagall?”

“Maybe, she is the Deputy Headmistress though, she’d probably get suspicious if we started asking about Flamel.”

“What if we pretended we were looking for something else? Like that we wanted to learn about some advanced Transfiguration thing for a paper. I bet Hermione could get her to write a pass.”

Ron took a 4th pawn and Harry went back into focus mode.

“You should come over to my house next winter,” Ron said as he put Harry in Check for the second time.

“That would be great! Much better than going to the Dursleys.”

“What are they like? The Dursleys.”

“Horrible, honestly. My uncle Vernon hates me. I didn’t really know why until I found out I was a wizard, he hates magic. My aunt Petunia, she was my mum’s sister, she also hates me because of the magic whole thing, but also because she hated my mum. My cousin Dudley isn’t as bad as them, but he does like to pummel me a lot. When we were younger he left me alone, it’s only in the past 4 years that he’s started really trying to beat me up. I don't even know why they let me stay there.” 

Ron took his bishop, “That sucks dude, I’m really sorry. What are you going to do this summer? Are you going to go back to their house?”

Harry sighed, “I don’t know. They’re the only family I have left, I don’t know where else I would go.”

“You’re always welcome at my house,” Ron said earnestly. “It’s a bit chaotic and you’d have to share a room with someone but you could always come over.”

“Thanks Ron. I might take you up on that offer.”

Ron was demolishing Harry’s chess pieces.

“I’m really glad we met on the train,” Ron said after taking Harry’s queen.

“Me too.”

“Checkmate.”

After that, they went up to the dorm and got into pajamas.

“Night Harry.”

“Night Ron.”

Harry climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling. He had been having a little bit of trouble falling asleep lately due to his semi-consistent nightmares. He hasn’t had one since the start of break but his sleep schedule was still messed up. After about an hour Ron started to snore quietly. Being awake is boring, he thought to himself. 

Deciding that he’d had enough, Harry sat up in bed and scooched to the end of it to open his trunk. He rummaged around quietly to try and find something to read when his hand brushes against a silk like fabric. The invisibility cloak. Harry pulled it out.

The fabric flowed like water in his hands. So silky his fingers could barely process its presence. He hadn’t gotten the chance to try it out yet, maybe now would be a good time. He could go to the library and sneak into the Restricted Section to see if there were any books about Flamel.

Harry got out of bed and pulled the cloak over him. If he isn’t going to sleep, he might as well be productive.

It was strange being in the hallways alone. Because it was the holidays, there were fewer people on watch. It was several minutes until he saw any sign of life, which came in the form of Peeves the Poltergeist writing curse words in big letters on a classroom chalkboard. He was too busy giggling to himself to notice Harry’s quiet steps.

Harry made it to the library without any issues. He immediately headed for the Restricted section as it was very drafty and he had forgotten a jacket.

Harry peered at the titles of the books. ‘Moste Potente Potions’, ‘Secrets of the Darkest Art’, none of them sounded like they would have anything that they were looking for. 

Harry decided to just pick out a book at random. He chose a black and silver bound book from the bottom shelf. It was rather large and heavy. He pulled it out of the shelf and, with some difficulty, laid it on its spine. He let it fall open.

The cover hit the ground and a loud, piercing scream erupted from the book, causing Harry to jump back in surprise and knock over his lantern. The shelves plunged into darkness, the book was still screaming. Harry forced it closed and quickly got to his feet.

“Who’s there?” a voice, which Harry recognized to be Filch, called.

The door to the Restricted Section opened and Harry squeezed past Filch, who looked right through him.

Not wanting to wait around and get found out, Harry ran. The current plan was to get the hell away from the library as fast as possible, which would have been a great plan if not for the fact that Harry forgot to keep track of where he was going. He only realized he was lost after about 5 minutes of making random turns. He probably would have gone for several more minutes if it weren’t for the two figures a little bit away down the hall.

One figure pushed the other against the wall, “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrel.”

Professor Snape? Harry thought.

“S-S-S-Severus, I’m afraid I d-don’t kn-know what y-you mean,” Professor Quirrel stammered.

“I think you know exactly what I mean, or do you need more time to figure out where your loyalties lie,” sneered Professor Snape.

“Professors!” Filch appeared at the opposite end of the hallway from Harry, “I found this lantern in the Restricted Section. There is a student out of bed.”

That was enough for the panic in Harry’s brain to win over the curiosity and hastily slipped into a partially open, empty classroom. He listened as their footsteps faded.

Feeling that he’d had enough adventure for one night, he went to leave and go back to the Gryffindor dorm when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. There, in the middle of the room was a large and rather obvious mirror. Harry wondered how he didn’t see it when he entered, but in fairness, he had been more focused on not getting caught.

Now that Filch, Professor Quirrel, and Professor Snape were gone, Harry felt safe enough to remove the invisibility cloak. He draped it over his arm and carefully approached the mirror. 

It was very tall and ornate, with a gold frame and three pointed spires coming out the top of it. There was an inscription carved into the top of it that said: erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohs i . Harry had no idea what that meant.

A voice in the back of Harry’s mind told him to leave mystical and strange and mystical mirrors alone and go back to bed. The voice sounded suspiciously like Hermione. It certainly would have been the smart thing to do. A different voice, that sounded a bit like Draco, told him that he’s never particularly been known for being smart. 

Harry stepped in front of the mirror to get a closer look at the details of the frame. However, when he looked into the mirror he did not see the room he was in, instead, he saw himself sitting at a table with several other people. Sitting to his left were Ron and Hermione, and sitting to his right was Draco. There were other people at the table but their faces were obscured by a cloud of mist. In front of Harry was a cake with candles. His birthday. Mirror Harry looked happy.

Real Harry stared perplexed for several moments. Was he hallucinating? If he wasn’t hallucinating, then why the heck is this random ass mirror showing him a hypothetical birthday party? Is it a future birthday party? Does the mirror show the future? If the muggle sci-fi movies he got to watch at the library taught him anything, it’s that knowing your own future could be dangerous. Why would a mirror that shows the future be kept in Hogwarts? Ron probably would want to see this, he should get Ron.

“Ron, holy fuck!” Harry ripped open the curtains of Ron’s bed.

“Huh- whatzhappenin?”

“I need to show you something.”

“Oh,” Ron stood up, rubbing his eyes, “Couldn’t it have waited ‘till the morning?”

“Nope, c’mon.” Harry threw the cloak over both of them.

“Where are we going?” Ron yawned once they left Gryffindor common room.

“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go to the Restricted Section to see if I could find any books about Flamel. But I accidentally opened this book that screams at you so I ran away and got lost. I almost got caught by Filch, Quirrel, and Professor Snape--”

“Snape and Quirrell? What were they doing out and about?”

“I don’t know, but I overheard them arguing. Professor Snape was like, ‘You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrel.’ and Quirrel was telling him he didn’t know what he meant, then Professor Snape said something about ‘figuring out where his loyalties lie’.”

“What were they talking about?”

“I didn’t get to hear anymore because Filch showed up and I had to leave. And then I found this weird mirror.”

“A mirror? That’s what you woke me up for?”

“Well, I think it’s a mirror. It looks like a mirror but it doesn’t work like one.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll see in a second, I think it’s in here.”

Harry pulled Ron inside the classroom and removed the cloak. 

“Is this it?” Ron asked, moving towards the mirror carefully.

“Yeah, what do you see?”

Ron stepped in front of it, “I’m holding a trophy that says ‘Wizard’s Chess Champion’ on it, all of my family and friends are there congratulating me.” He turned to Harry, “Are you able to see it?”

Harry stepped up next to Ron. The same birthday scene appeared in the mirror. “No, I can’t.”

“What do you see?”

“It’s my birthday and you, Draco, and Hermione are there. There are other people too, but their faces are covered by some weird mist.”

“I don’t see any mist in mine,” Ron said.

“That's strange,” Harry said. 

“Well maybe we should write Hermione about it,” Ron theorized, “She knows a lot more than us in general.”

“Curfew ends 7 in the morning so we could head to the owlery then?” pondered Harry.

Ron whined, “But that's so earlyyy, how can you even get out of bed then.” 

“Skill issue.”

Ron stuck his tongue out at Harry, “Let's head back to the dorms, my mom says if you don't sleep enough you won't grow tall.”

Harry nodded and threw the invisibility cloak over himself and Ron. They headed back to the Gryffindor dorms, their feet quietly tip-tapping on the cold stone floor.

They returned to the dorms, brushed their teeth quietly, and collapsed into their beds.

Ron started snoring quietly and Harry fell into a restless sleep filled with strange flashes of green and distant screams.

Chapter Text

BANG.

Harry had been dosing off when Hermione slammed a large book on the library table.

Ron and Draco both flinched at the loud noise and Harry’s head jolted up off the table.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to look in here.”

Harry didn’t quite catch the title before she started to flip through the pages with a rapid speed.

“I picked this up for a bit of light reading.”

“Light? Thats not-”

“Shush.” She paused, scanning the pages, “I knew it! I wasn't expecting him to be in here, because I thought he would be in a much more modern book, but Nicolas Flamel is immortal!”

Hermione took a breath and continued, “Nicolas Flamel created the Philosopher’s Stone, which creates a serum which causes the user to become immortal! That’s why he isn’t in the books based in the modern age, he’s over 600 years old!”

“Can we talk now?” Ron interjected.

“No,” Hermione continued, “So, based on my deductive reasoning, that means the Philosopher’s Stone must be in the trapdoor underneath Fluffy! That’s what the teachers are hiding!”

“So, if they had to move the stone, surely they think it’s in danger,” Draco said.

“But who would go through all that effort to steal it from the most secure place in Britain?”

“What about Quirrell?” Ron suggested. “Snape and him had that whole argument over break.”

“Quirrell thinks his own shadow will come to life and kill him, there’s no way it’s him,” Harry said.

They all made sounds of agreement.

Ron spoke up, “Well, Mcgonagall can’t be trying to steal it because she’s deputy headmistress.”

“Flitwick’s out of the question because one, he’s half goblin and if the goblins wanted to keep the stone they would have just kept it in Gringotts, and two, he probably wouldn’t even reach the doorknob.” Hermione said.

“What about Snape?” asked Ron.

“Snape wouldn't do it,” Harry and Draco said simultaneously.

“Why not?”

“I would have heard about it,” Draco stated, “He is my godfather after all.”

“Snape’s your godfather?!” Ron yelped.

“Yeah, did I never tell you guys that?”

“Nope.”

“Oops.”

“Moving on,” Hermoine said, matter of factly. “What about Hagrid?”

“Why would Hagrid want to steal the stone?”

“Well I’m not saying that Hagrid would steal the stone, but think about it! He knows an awful lot about all it, plus he literally owns Fluffy.”

“Maybe we should pay him a visit.” Harry said.

Hermione brandished her wand at the now-melting snow, her warming charm making a path for them through the high snow barrier. Their breath came up in clouded puffs and their noses tinged pink.

They arrived at the solid wooden door of Hagrid’s hut. Hermione rapped on the door, grasping her knuckles as the sharp knock prickled her dry skin. Noises could be heard behind the door.

“Jeez it’s freezing out,” Ron shuddered.

“Cause you never bring a fucking coat,” Draco scolded, “Here.”

He pointed his wand at Ron’s face and muttered a spell. A blast of warm air hit him in the face, causing him to stumble backward.

“Hey! You prick!”

“Well, are you warm or not?” Draco sassily put his hands on his waist.

“Shut up!” Ron tried to smother his face.

Draco licked his hand. Ron made a noise of disgust and wiped it on Draco’s shirt.

“Will you two get along for once!” Hermione exclaimed.

Hagrid finally opened the door slightly.

“Hello, not to be rude, but I’m not in the state to entertain today,” Hagrid started to close the door.

Harry jammed his foot in the gap, “We know about the Philosopher's Stone.”

“Oh.”

Hagrid’s hut was smolderingly hot compared to the frigid outside air. There was a huge fire in the hearth and numerous candles strewn about the place. Hagrid was fidgety, frazzled, and glancing around fearfully. 

“We think the stone is in danger,” Harry lead.

“Nonsense,” Hagrid turned to the fireplace.

Harry glanced to the others. He wasn’t quite sure how to continue the interrogation and the heat from the fire was making his thoughts a bit sluggish.

Hermione spoke up. “Why do you know so much about the stone, Hagrid?” 

“Well, I’m one of the ones who’s guarding it. I’ve got to know what I’m guarding.”

“Sorry, one of?” Draco asked. “So, there’s more than just Fluffy?”

“Of course, otherwise anyone could get in if they knew the trick. All the teachers are guarding it, fuck, i shouldn’t have said that.”

“Hagrid, it’s bloody sweltering in here. Could we maybe open a window?” Ron asked.

“No can do, sorry.” Hagrid glanced toward the hearth again, “Needs to be hot.”

Harry looked over to whatever Hagrid kept glancing at. Sitting in the wood and charcoal of the fire was a huge oval shaped rock, which wasn’t the weirdest thing that could be in a fireplace. 

But then the rock moved. No, not moved, cracked. 

Hagrid made a noise of excitement and grabbed his large flowery oven mitts and a pair of tongs.

“Hagrid,” Ron said slowly, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Most likely,” Hagrid said as he carried the stone to a bundle of towels on the large round table and set it down.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, cautiously stepping forward to look at it a little closer.

The stone cracked again and sparks flew out of it. Hermione jumped back in surprise. The stone cracked more and, much to Harry’s surprise, a lizard crawled out of it. 

And then the lizard sneezed fire.

“Oh bless him,” Hagrid cooed, “He knows his mummy.”

“How did you manage to get a dragon egg? I thought they were illegal,” Draco said.

“Won him off some stranger at the pub, seemed awfully glad to get rid of him. Don’t know why. Who’d want to get rid of a cutey like you, Norbert?”

“Norbert.”

“Well he’s got to have a name!”

“Hagrid, you could get arrested for this!” Ron said, worryingly, “Like, actually arrested!” 

“Oh, it’ll be fine, don’t you worry. No one will know.”

“Hagrid, you live in a wooden hut,” Hermione deadpanned.

As if to prove her point, Norbert sneezed again and the table caught fire. Hagrid quickly patted it out with his oven mitt.

“Well I can’t just leave him, can I?”

Harry spoke up, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Why do you keep calling her a him? She’s obviously a girl.”

“Wait, how can you tell?”

Harry shrugged, “I dunno, I just can.”

It was a pretty good question. How did he know?

Draco glanced at Harry nervously, “Uh, either way, we need to figure what to do. We

could release it?”

“No! Norwegian Ridgebacks aren’t native to this area. He’ll have nothing to eat!” Hagrid said.

“It’s too dangerous,” Hermione shook her head, “They could hurt someone.”

“My brother, Charlie, works with dragons all the time,” said Ron, “Maybe we could write him?”

Hermione nodded, “Let’s write him a letter during breakfast tomorrow.”

The sun had mostly set by the time they started back to the castle. 

“So the other teachers are also guarding the stone,” Draco said in contemplation.

“It does make it less likely for Hagrid to be the one trying to steal it,” Harry reasoned. “He doesn’t exactly have a motive, he doesn't want riches or immortality.”

Draco piped up, “Filch would love to be rich, so he could finally get all those torture devices for our detentions.”

“Wait, guys.” Hermione whispered, “I think we’re after hours. We aren’t allowed to be out this late.”

They heard the tap-tap of someone’s shoes somewhere down the hallway and booked it up a flight of stairs, flying past a bunch of suits of armor. They stopped to catch their breaths. 

The tap tapping was coming up the stairs.

“Quick, this way.” Hermione yanked them toward a door off the side of the main corridor.

“Wait,” Ron’s ears were growing pink. “We can’t go in there, it’s the girl’s bathroom.”

“Ronald, I swear to god, do you want to get expelled or not?” Hermine hissed, before she pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Good thinking, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Harry. Glad to see I’m appreciated by someone.” Hermione sniffed.

Ron stuck his tongue out at her.

It wasn’t the first time Harry had been in the girls bathroom. It was, however, the first time he had gone into the girls bathroom for reasons unrelated to troll fighting.

This restroom was a lot nicer than a lot of the boys bathrooms around the castle. Not that Harry had been in all of them yet, the castle was so huge that there was never enough time to properly explore it, even in the entire year that he’d been there. Regardless, this bathroom was nice. There was a large circular window high up on the wall furthest from them which cast dim moonlight into the room. 

Ron whistled and leaned up against the strangely ornate set of sinks in the center of the room, “This is a lot nicer that the other girls restroom we’ve been in.”

Just then a head popped out of the sink that Ron was leaning on, “You go into girls’ bathrooms often?”

Ron screamed.

It echoed.

They froze as Ron’s loud yell, and the fear of being heard accompanied by it, settled down on them like the ash from Pompeii. 

“Shit.”

“Ronald!”

All of them ran into the stall furthest from the door and backed into the corners as their dread turned into footsteps at the door of the girls bathroom.

They heard a voice, a girl’s voice. 

“Myrtle, why did you scream?”

“I didn’t scream. How dare you! Just because you living people think I’m always sad and moping and moaning about.”

“Wait so there is a student out of bed?”

They could hear the mischievous grin in Myrtle’s voice, “Oh, there are four of them, in that stall over there.”

They heard the soft tapping of shoes on the stone floor coming towards them.

“Alohomora.”

The door swung open.

Four eleven year-olds stared wide eyed at the tall form of the Head Girl. 

The head girl stared back, “...”

 “...why are you in the girls bathroom at...?” she checked her watch - she wasn’t wearing a watch - “...this late?”

They all shrugged simultaneously.

She sighed.

“Okay firsties, follow me.” She motioned for the four to follow her.

They bunched nervously behind the Head Girl as they walked.

“Ronald I am going to kill you,” Hermione hissed, “Tommorow when don’t show up to breakfast, they’re going to come looking for you and find you dead in you fucking bed.”

“Calm down Hermione,” Harry said.

“Calm do- calm down??” Hermione exclaimed, “We’ll be lucky if we aren’t expelled!”

“We won’t be expelled Hermione,” Draco said exasperatedly, “We’ll probably just lose a shit ton of points and serve detention for a while.”

The head girl turned around and sighed, “Can all of you shut up. You’re all going to Professor Mcgonagall. Maybe then I can go back to my dorm and sleep.”

They all trailed behind the head girl dejectedly until they arrived at the headmistress’ office.

The head girl knocked softly on the door.

“Come in,” Came the voice of Professor Mcgonagall.

The head girl opened the door, ushering all of them in. Professor Mcgonagall’s eyes widened in surprise with a dash of disappointment.

“Four students out of bed? I haven't heard of anything like this occurring in many years. You will all be serving a week’s worth of detention and 50 points will be taken from each of you.”

“Fifty?” Ron whispered to Harry.

Hermione stepped on his foot, “We apologise professor, we truly did not mean to be out of bed so late, we were trying to get back to our respective common rooms.”

“Rules are rules, Ms. Granger. I will escort Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley to their commons rooms. Ms. Kurt, please take Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy back to theirs. You will receive word of your detentions soon.”

 “Yes, Professor.”

Ron and Hermione grimaced awkwardly at Draco and Harry as they went off in separate directions.

As Harry and Draco followed the Head Girl to the Dungeons, she began speaking, “Oh, I guess I never introduced myself,” she laughed with a mix of awkwardness and tiredness, “I’m Neila Kurt, nice to meet you. Even if it’s under these strained circumstances.”

They both nodded politely. “Well met, Neila Kurt,” Draco said politely.

“Yeah, nice to meet you,” said Harry.

They continued walking for a while before they finally came to the Slytherin common room entrance. Neila herded Draco in through the door.

“Harry, can we speak for a moment, it’ll be very brief.”

He nodded warily.

“So, as you know the head boy and girl write all the Hogwarts letters to the firsies before the school year begins.”

“No, not as I know, since when has this been a thing?” Harry said confusedly.

“Since… Forever? Anyway- that wasn’t the thing I wanted you to focus on,” She sighed, “So, Feli- the head boy and I, his name is Felix Brown. We wrote all the letters to the new students,” she paused, “Including yours.”

The images of the dozens of dozens of letters that came to the Dursleys appeared in his mind, “Oh, I’m awfully sorry, I know-”

“Don’t apologize,” The taller girl interrupted him, “That isn’t what I wanted to talk about, I wanted to ask if everything was okay at home? It took so many letters for you to actually read one, and judging from the addresses…”

Harry remembered the first letter, addressed to his cupboard and then what the various letters on their ‘depressing road trip’ must have been addressed to.

Harry laughed awkwardly, “Yeah, its fine.”

Neila’s brows furrowed, “Are you sure? Because if they were keeping your Hogwarts letters away from you, then they could have been doing worse things.” she sighed, “I’m sorry, this has just been nagging at me and I’m concerned.”

“Eh, I’ve been putting up with them for so long I can deal with them for the summers.” Harry shrugged.

“Well, if you’re sure…” Neila said, “But, if you ever want to talk about it or need any help, just ask.”

She escorted him into the common room and watched him head to his dormitory.

The week that followed was maybe one of the worst weeks Harry had experienced at Hogwarts. It hadn’t taken long for people to notice the massive amount of points that had disappeared overnight. And it wasn’t much more time after that for people to find out that Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione were the ones responsible.

Harry personally didn’t care much for the House Cup but he was a minority in that regard. The majority of his dorm mates began to ignore him. Even some of the older Slytherins would talk meanly about him when he was in earshot.

There was also the disappointed look of Professor Snape, which would probably be burned into Harry’s mind forever.

They visited Hagrid during lunch every day to check in on Norbert, who was growing at a rapid rate. In just a few days he was the size of Fang and quite vicious, constantly snapping at them.

On one day, Ron had been trying to give Norbert some food when the dragon got over excited and bit down into Ron’s hand. It wasn’t too large of a bite, only two teeth had nicked the skin, but within moments it had swollen to twice it’s size. Unfortunately for Ron, he couldn’t exactly go to the Hospital Wing, as it might raise some suspicion as to where Ron got the bite. They decided to just bandage it and hope for the best.

Alas, the best did not come and by the next morning Ron’s hand had blown up like a balloon and the bite was a sickly looking green. He had no choice but to go to Madame Pomfrey under the guise of it being a really bad dog bite. The look she gave them made the impression that she didn’t believe them but she said nothing on the matter.

The next day, the response from Charlie Weasley came back saying that he would be glad to take Norbert as well as a detailed set of instructions on where to meet him, at what time that night and how to take care of the dragon until he arrived. Ron was still being treated for his bite as it had become quite infected so it was up to Harry, Hermione, and Draco to deal with the dragon.

At about 11 o’clock, Harry and Draco snuck out of the dungeons underneath Harry’s invisibility cloak and picked up Hermione outside of the Ravenclaw common room before heading to Hagrid’s.

“He’s got lots of rats and his favorite teddy,” Hagrid said tearfully after they managed to wrangle Norbert into his cage.

“It’s alright Hagrid,” Hermione said. “He’ll be with other dragons of his kind.”

Hagrid blew his nose loudly, “I know. I’m just going to miss him so much.”

It was a bit cramped under the cloak with three people and a dragon, but they managed to make it all the way to the Astronomy Tower without too much difficulty.

“So,” Draco said once they had gotten there, “Do we just wait now?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t be long.”

After a few minutes, five broomsticks appeared on the horizon, swooping out of the darkness. Four of them stayed behind as the fifth flew right up to the window of the Astronomy Tower.

The person riding the broom wore something that looked akin to a motorcycle helmet shaped like a dragons head, made of something similar to dragon skin. Black leather boots stepped onto the sill. The figure took the helmet off and shook out their head of bright shoulder length Weasley red hair before pulling it into a short pony tail with an elastic on their wrist.

Oh, Harry thought, Charlie Weasley is cool.

He looked at the three of them, “Ron couldn’t make it?”

They shook their heads.

“Bummer, I wanted to annoy him.” He jumped down from the ledge and onto the wooden floor of the tower. “Name’s Charlie Weasley, though you probably guessed that. Speaking of guessing,” He pointed to each of them, “You’re Harry, Hermione, and Draco, right? Ron’s told me all about you guys.”

Harry felt a little stupid and was having trouble doing anything other than nodding.

“Right,” Charlie scanned the room before spotting Norbert, “And you must be the bitty-baby.” He cooed.

He approached him with a trained few steps and opened the crate before stepping back. He seemed in his element.

Norbert hissed a bit and backed away slightly, his scales rising like a cat.

“Oh, a bit spicy are we? How ‘bout this,” He took something, that looked like meat out of his pocket and slid it towards him.

Norbert cautiously crept closer before devouring the meat. After, he sniffed Charlie’s outstretched hand and let him give a few scratches on the head.

Charlie then explained that they were going to transport Norbert to Romania using a spacious crate suspended between the four broomsticks.

“The lads all have helmets like this one” he said, patting the dragon shaped gear, “Supposed to make the dragon feel like they’re flying in a pack instead of being taken away.”

He caught how Harry was eyeing it and chuckled, “Don’t worry, it’s not made of real dragon hide. Just charmed to look like it.”

They managed to coax Norbert into the suspended crate with his slightly crispy teddy bear. Then Charlie wished them all well before climbing onto his own broom stick.

Before they could take off, Harry stepped towards them, “Wait, I just had a question.”

“What’s up?”

“Is Norbert really a boy? Or did Hagrid get that wrong?”

“Uh, let me see,” Charlie peeked into the cage and spent a good 30 seconds looking at the dragon.

“Huh,” Charlie said, “You’re right, she is a girl. Good spot, smart one aren’t you.”

He ruffled Harry’s hair.

Harry’s stomach did a weird little flippity-flap. He had no idea why. 

Charlie then leapt off the edge and rejoined his group.

Harry, Hermione, and Draco watched as they flew into the night. Going. Going. Gone.

Detention was the next night. Honestly, in the chaos of hiding a dragon for a week, Harry had nearly forgotten about it. Nearly.

Draco and Harry solemnly left the common room a little bit before 11 and headed down to the entrance hall where they were supposed to meet up with Hermione and Filch. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you spin it) for Ron, the bite on his hand was still healing so he would be having an alternative detention once it had healed.

Filch had a twisted looking smile on his face that made Harry nervous. 

“Follow me,” He said.

They were led outside and across the grounds. Harry guessed that they might be doing something like cleaning up the owlery or raking leaves, but those hopes started to fade the further they got from the castle.

“Bet you’ll think twice about breaking the rules, won’t you?” Filch sneered, “Good ol’ proper punishment. Shame they let the old ones die out, I quite enjoyed the screams.”

They were taken to Hagrid’s hut, which gave Harry a little bit of relief. 

Surely Hagrid wouldn’t make us do anything dangerous, Harry thought.

Filch chuckled darkly, “You won’t be having much fun once you’re in the forest.”

Harry was wrong.

Draco paled, “The forest? We can’t go in there! There are--” a howl sounded in the distance, “--werewolves!”

“You should have thought about that before running around after curfew, all willie-nillie.”

“Oh, quit lecturing them,” Hagrid waved his hand dismissively at Filch, “We’re already running behind.”

Filch scowled, “I’ll be back at dawn. For what’s left of them.”

Hermione turned to Hagrid, “We can’t go in there, it’s forbidden!”

“Nothing’ll happen to you don’t worry, we’re not doing anything dangerous. Just looking for an injured unicorn, that’s all.”

“Unicorn?”

Hagrid pointed to a puddle of silvery liquid by the tree line, “See that? That’s unicorn blood. Something’s been hunting the unicorns. This one seems pretty hurt but it’s not dead. Yet. We’re going to go in and capture it so it can get better.”

“Hagrid, that sounds pretty dangerous.”

“Relax, we’re trying to find the unicorn, not the thing hunting it. Besides, there’s nothing in that forest that’ll hurt you as long as you’re with me or Fang.”

That did little to ease their worries.

“Now, we’re gonna split up to cover more ground. Hermione can go with me, Draco and Harry can go together.”

“I want Fang,” Draco said quickly.

“Alright, but he’s a bloody coward. If you’re in danger shoot up red sparks and if you find the unicorn shoot up blue.”

They nodded and headed in.

Harry kept his wand illuminated towards the ground while they walked to avoid tripping. Fang was sniffing ahead of them. Draco gripped the leash tightly.

It was odd. Usually Draco would have a few snide remarks or, at the very least, some complaints about the mud or the cold, but he was uncharacteristically quiet.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“I’m fine,” Draco all but squeaked, “I’m fine. Cool as a cucumber, you could say.”

Harry bumped his shoulder playfully, seeking to alleviate tension, “You know Malfoy, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were scared.”

Draco sputtered, “Scared--Potter, I’m not scared. Nope, nope, nopity, nope.”

“Don’t worry. There’s nothing to fear as long as I’m here,” Harry said dramatically.

A smile was tugging at Draco’s lips, “You are very nearly failing Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Well lucky for you, I’ve learned quite a bit from reading self defense books in the library. I even know a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat.”

Draco let out a laugh, “What, you’re going to go about punching werewolves? I don’t think that’s going to--”

They paused.

A dizzying amount of silver blood, thicker than the specks they had seen here and there was a puddle on the ground. It led to a clearing and in the center of it the unicorn laid motionless.

Harry felt a little sick. The unicorn’s legs stuck out weird angles where it lay. It’s own blood pooled around it, stark against the dark leaves of the trees, glinting in a way that made Harry’s chest squeeze with anxiety. It should be moving. The tail should be swishing, the maine should be flowing. Harry half expected it to jump up and run away. But it didn’t. It lay still and cold.

Harry took a step forward, but Draco grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

Harry opened his mouth to respond when a rustling sound made them both freeze.

Out of a bush, on the other end of the clearing, rose a figure cloaked in black. The figure crept toward the unicorn, the black cloak slithering across the leaves. It knelt by the neck of the creature, lowered it’s head, and began to drink the silvery blood.

What. The. Fuck.

Harry, Draco, and Fang all stood transfixed with horror. Draco was still grasping his arm, squeezing so hard it stopped all blood circulation. He tugged at it, urging Harry to move but not moving much himself. Draco squeaked out a noise that was a failed attempt at suppressing a scream. 

The figure’s head shot up. The unicorn’s blood dripped from it’s mouth. Draco then screamed for real.

Harry’s head exploded with pain. Draco gave his arm one last tug before he ran off and out of the clearing. Harry would have followed, but there were spots in his vision and he tripped over a large root and fell flat on his back like a beetle.

The figure advanced on him swiftly. Harry felt like his head was on fire; white, hot pain throbbing through it. 

He probably would have died if it weren’t for the horse that jumped into the clearing and chased the figure off. Though Harry hadn’t seen any much of the chasing off part as he had been curled up in the leaves, clutching his head.

When the pain passed after a minute or two, Harry had realized that it wasn’t a horse but a half-horse half-man.

‘Centaur’ a Hermione like voice sounded in the back of his throbbing mind.

“Are you alright?” the Centaur asked, offering his hand.

Harry took it and shakily stood up, “Yeah- um - Thank you.”

“You are the Potter boy,” He said, “You must head back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time of night, especially not for you.”

“Sorry, but what was that? The thing you chased off.”

The centaur looked at him carefully, “Do you know what unicorn blood is used for, Harry Potter?”

Harry shook his head.

The centaur hummed, “It is a monstrous thing to kill a unicorn. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even when you are an inch from death, but at a terrible cost. You have slain something so pure and defenseless that the moment the blood touches you lips, you are cursed with a half life.”

“Why-- why would someone want that?”

“Why indeed, Harry Potter. I suppose someone who is desperate. Desperate enough to endure the curse long enough to, perhaps, drink something else. Something that would offer them full strength and power. Something that would ensure their immortality.” 

He paused and looked up towards the sky. The stars were bright and dazzling and the moon twice as luminous.

“Do you know of what is currently being hidden at the school, Harry Potter?”

“The Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Yes, quite.”

“I don’t understand, who would be desperate enough to--”

“Can you think of no one who has waited many years to return to power? Who has clung to life desperately. Waiting in the shadows for the most opportune time.”

“Voldemort.” Harry whispered.

“You speak it’s name. Your kind often don’t.”

“No, I think it’s stupid to call him ‘You-Know-Who.’ It sort of makes him less scary when you say ‘Voldemort’ all the time.”

“Hm. You have a sharp mind Harry Potter.”

“HARRY!”

At that moment, a figure with bushy brown hair crashed into him and engulfed him in a hug.

“Harry, oh my god. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Hermione,” He said, hugging back.

They pulled out of the hug and Harry noticed Draco hurrying up to them.

“I’m sorry,” Draco apologized. “I started running and I thought you were running too and when I realized you weren't I was already near Hagrid and-”

“It’s okay Draco,” Harry said, smiling at him.

“You alright, Harry?” Hagrid asked.

“Yep. I’m fine, just a bit shaken.”

“Good,” He ruffled his hair. Then he turned to the centaur “Firenze.”

“Hagrid,” The centaur, Firenze, replied. “Mars is bright tonight.”

“Um, yeah I-- I guess it is.”

“Unusually bright,” Firenze’s eyes were intense, like he was trying to convey something to Hagrid. Whether or not Hagrid understood the message, Harry didn’t know.

“Right, erm, I should probably get these three back to the school.”

“Goodbye Hagrid.”

“Bye Firenze.”

“May the stars favor you, Harry Potter.”

“Th-Thank you, goodbye.”

“Bleeding centaurs…” Hagrid muttered.

“So, what?” Ron said from his bed in the hospital wing. “You think that was You-Know-Who?”

Harry turned to Ron, “The centaur –Firenze- all but told me it was him. He basically asked if I could think of anyone that would be desperate enough to drink unicorn blood as a temporary thing to keep them alive.”

Hermione’s gasped, “Wait it was drinking unicorn blood? That’s awful!”

Harry grimaced, “Well this is the guy that wants to kill me. Is that not awful enough for you?” he snarked.

His friends glanced at each other. The weight of the statement seemed to settle over all of them. This was the man that the entire wizarding world fought against for 11 years. The man who had killed his parents. The most dangerous man of the wizarding world. And now his fury was most certainly directed toward Harry. 

To be honest, Harry was terrified. He’s always felt like he would die young. Destined to go out in a ball of blazing fire, like his parents before him. Death clung to the shadows of his cramped cupboard under the stairs of his vile relatives. Maybe this is when Harry will die. Maybe Voldemort will come for him in the night and finish what he started.

He swallowed down the thumping of his heart and the fear that made place in his lungs.

“What do we do?” Draco said, hushed.

“We have to stop Voldemort from getting that stone.”