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Chapter Text

Harry stared at the sorting hat with trepidation. What if it decided he didn't belong to any of the houses? What if it sent him back to the Dursleys? What he wasn't actually a wizard, and this was all one horrible misunderstanding?

"Potter, Harry," Professor McGonagall called out. Every eye in the room turned to him, and Harry shuffled forward, back hunched with embarrassment, and took a seat. The sorting hat was placed upon his head, and his view of the room was blocked as the dark fabric sank over his eyes.

"Hmm, you're a difficult one, aren't you? Well, boy, I can assure you that you are a wizard – it's all here in your head!"

Harry resolved, in that instant, to be the best wizard he could possibly be, no matter how hard it was. To be able to escape the Dursleys was a dream come true, and he never wanted to be sent back there.

"Interesting… Slytherin would be a good fit for you, such ambition…"

Not Slytherin! Harry begged silently. He wanted to be with Ron, or Neville, and certainly not Malfoy.

"Are you sure? Yes, I see that you are. Well… you've helped me make my decision… it'll be HUFFLEPUFF."

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Harry watched as James waved at them from the window, grinning madly. Behind him, Teddy stood in Hufflepuff robes, clasping his shoulder in a friendly manner that reassured Harry that James would be alright.

To his horror, he realised that his eyes had welled up with tears, and he discretely tried to wipe them away.

A tissue appeared in his line of vision, and he smiled gratefully at Hermione as he took it from her.

"Hogwarts was where my life truly started," Harry said, thinking fondly of his time there, and trying to hold back any further tears.

"James will be absolutely fine," Ginny said from his other side. "Just like Teddy was. He'll get into so much trouble all the professor will curse the Potter name, and will manage to talk his way out of it with that charming grin of his."

Harry took her hand. "You're right, of course, love." His voice was shaky, and he cleared his throat. "I guess I'm just happy for him. And a little bit envious. I almost wish it were us."

"Seventeen years ago, it was," Ginny said quietly. "The day we met, you know.

Harry turned to her with a smile. "One of the best days of my life," he said, and kissed her gently.

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Lily escaped her overbearing, overprotective, annoying brothers as soon as she could, and ran down the corridor of the train, bursting into a carriage that looked empty. In the corner, she realised a moment too late, was a boy curled up with a book, wearing the green and silver tie of Slytherin.

"I'm going to be a Slytherin too, you know," she announced.

The boy looked up, and scoffed. "As if. Everyone knows that Potters go to Gryffindor. Now, buzz off."

Lily huffed, and folded her arms. "Well, I won't. Gryffindor is for reckless idiots that like to play pranks, and that's not me. I'm going to be the cleverest witch to graduate Hogwarts, and then I'm going to be the Minister, and then after that, the Queen. Just you wait and see."

The boy looked at her silently for a few seconds, then patted the seat next to him.

"If you insist…" he said. "But you've a lot to learn. Now, the first rule of Slytherin – never trust anyone with your plans, least of all strange boys you meet on trains."

"You're not a strange boy," Lily retorted. "You're a Hogwarts student, and – blonde hair, grey eyes – you're Scorpius Malfoy. Dad says Malfoys are slippery little snakes that get away with murder, but also aren't all that bad, really."

Malfoy's mouth quirked up into half a smile. "Your dad's not wrong."

Lily nodded decisively. "Which is why we're going to be friends, and you're going to teach me everything, until I'm the one getting away with murder."

After another long pause, Malfoy chuckled. He offered her his hand, and Lily shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Lily Potter. For some strange reason, I suspect that you're going to do Slytherin proud."

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"Check out my worm!" James yelled, chasing the redheaded girl along the platform.

"Ew! It's disgusting!" she cried, running away from him. "Stop it, go away!"

"Nice!" a boy said. "Hey, I bet there's a spell to make it even bigger. Maybe even as big as the Hogwarts Express!"

"Gross!" James declared with a grin. "That would be awesome."

They shared a look of delight.

"Hey, you wanna hold him?" James offered. "He's called Wormy."

"That's a rubbish name." The boy extended a hand regardless. "But yeah. I'm Sirius, by the way."

"James," James said in reply. He withdrew his wand. "Wiggly squiggly little worm, slimy and gooey as it squirms, grow and sprout and get lots bigger, my faithful wormy little digger."

He waited in anticipation for something to happen, but nothing did. James pouted.

"That wasn't even a spell," Sirius said. "Watch this." He narrowed his eyes and waved his wand. "Windgardium leviosa."

Slowly, the worm began to float.

"Yes!" James cried. He pointed to the nearest child. "Get her."

"Worm attack!" Sirius cried, and levitated the worm into the girl's face. She screamed, and Sirius attacked the next student with it, racing around the platform as adults caught sight and tried to stop them. James followed, cheering him on.

Eventually the worm was vanished, and they hid on the train as adults stormed about angrily, looking for them.

"That was brilliant," James said, practically vibrating with excitement.

"It was wicked!" Sirius agreed. He extended a hand. "Friends?"

James grinned and shook it. "Best friends."

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"Hey, Evans… wanna check out my worm?" James asked, with a wink, tilting his hips toward her.

Evans' lip curled. "You're disgusting, Potter. Piss off and drown in the Black Lake, would you?" She stalked away.

"Nice one, James," Sirius said with a chuckle, and James flipped him the bird.

"It was worth a try," he said with a shrug. "You never know. She might have spent this summer extracting that massive stick from up her arse."

Sirius snorted. "That'll never happen."

"A boy can dream," James said, dopily staring into the distance. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"And that's all you'll be doing, I suspect," Remus remarked.

"Boo, you spoilsport," James said.

"I'm sure you'll win her over… eventually," Peter said.

"More like never," Sirius muttered. He ripped a page out of his transfiguration book, and poked it with his wand, trying to get it to transform into a lion. It growled, but that was about it.

"I know!" James said. "I just need to prove to her that I'm the perfect bloke. Strong, manly, handsome, obviously, and good with a wand."

"Mmhmm," Sirius said. The page was starting to grow gold fur about the edges, which hadn't been his intention, but was wicked, regardless.

"Perhaps you should conjure a worm and chase her about with it, like in first year?" Remus said dryly.

"That was you?" Pete exclaimed. Sirius and James exchanged a guilty look.

"Yeah… we didn't know how cool you were back then. Sorry mate," James said.

"What you need is a plan," Sirius said. "A good plan. Fortunately, we have Moony, god of organisation, to make one for us."

"I don't think so," Remus muttered, but James talked over him.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Oh, do it Remus, please!"

Sirius smirked at Remus, who glared back. "Go on. Get plotting."

"Sometimes I hate you all," Remus said with a sigh.

Sirius grinned, and kicked him in the shin. "Love you too, Moony."

Chapter Text

ust a few months after the war had finished, Hogwarts was reopening. Harry smiled to himself as he walked through the barrier between the muggle and magical world, and stepped onto Platform 9 ¾. It was good to be back. He found their usual carriage on the Hogwarts Express, and settled into wait for everybody else.

Neville was the first to arrive, and Harry's jaw dropped in shock when he properly looked at him. He'd not noticed the day of the final battle, having been rather preoccupied at the time, but Neville had shed his puppy-fat, and was tall, and broad, and very handsome, and carried himself with an air of quiet confidence.

"Heya, Harry," Neville said, lifting his trunk into the racks overhead. Harry stared as Neville's biceps flexed, and forced himself to shut his gaping mouth.

Fuck, but Neville was hot.

"Hi," he choked in greeting. "You look well."

Neville didn't blush, only smiled kindly. "Thanks. You too. That tan suits you."

Harry did blush, to his mortification. "Australia," he explained. "Hermione's parents."

Neville nodded. There was a scar above his eye that Harry remembered had been dripping with blood when he'd killed Nagini. Replaying the memory in his mind, Harry realised that his crush on Neville had been a long time in the making.

He took a deep breath, and got a hold of himself. He'd faced down Voldemort. This couldn't possibly be as terrifying, although it felt like it.

"I'm really looking forward to this year," he said.

"Me too," Neville agreed, grinning, and Harry's heart fluttered. With luck, his eighth year would be the best one yet.

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Colin watched with fascination as Ron Weasley ate. Pie, mashed potatoes, chicken, broccoli, ham, parsnips, a gulp of pumpkin juice, and then some more potatoes, roasted this time. He just kept going, putting away food unlike anybody Colin had ever seen. Was it because he was using magic all the time, and needed the food for energy? But Harry Potter never seemed to eat much, and he was brilliant at magic! Colin would have thought that he was just especially hungry, but Ron Weasley ate copious amounts of food no matter what meal it was, bacon and sausages and eggs for breakfast, and sandwiches and cake and apples for lunch, and whatever was in reach for dinner.

"Ron! Chew your food, and for Merlin's sake, don't speak with your mouth full!" Hermione Granger admonished him. Colin nudged his little brother – just sorted into Gryffindor, thankfully.

"That's Harry Potter, and his friends," Colin whispered. Dennis' eyes were big and round.

"Wow. That boy eats a lot of food! Will I have to, as well?"

Colin chuckled. "No, I don't think so."

Dennis dug into the reasonably sized portion of food on his plate. "I could though, couldn't I! There's just so much!"

Colin smiled, and pushed the plate of carrots closer to his brother. "Yup. And they never run out, promise."

Dennis beamed. "Hogwarts is the best!"

Chapter Text

Tom eyed his watch, and decided he'd entertained his court long enough. The first day back to school was always the most difficult, because his followers got presumptuous ideas about blood-status and his place in their world, and he always had to put someone back in their place.

Mulciber was curled up on the ground, moaning weakly.

"Have you learned your lesson?" Tom asked, bored. His eyes narrowed when Mulciber didn't reply. "Well?"

Mulciber groaned again, but stayed defiantly silent. Tom pursed his lips, and drew his wand. He'd recently found a new curse he'd been dying to practise.

He gathered all the hatred within him to his chest, until it was a bubbling, boiling pot of rage and anger.

"Crucio," he hissed, and oh, did Mulciber scream. He writhed on the floor, shrieking and sobbing. Tom smiled, and wondered idly if the pain was so great that he would be driven insane. He released the spell, and Mulciber whined, snot and tears messing the carpet at Tom's feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"And will you ever disrespect me again?" Tom asked.

"No, never!" Mulciber cried, and Tom smiled with satisfaction. He looked up, meeting the gaze of each of the members of his little soiree. Their faces were pale, and they averted their eyes when he looked at them.

"Someone make sure he gets to bed," Tom said. "After all, it wouldn't do for any of us to get caught, do you understand?"

"Yes Tom," came the hurried reply. Tom nodded, and strode away. Slytherin Common Room was nearly empty when he walked through it, and no one disturbed him as he returned to his dormitory.

He sank gratefully into his bed, changing his robes for nightwear with a flick of his wand. The familiar surroundings put him at ease like no other could, and he admired the silver and green embroidered drapes around his four-poster bed. With a tap of his wand he brought the snakes carved into the wooden bed frame to life.

"Protect," he said, and they hissed their agreement. Tom allowed the smallest one to escape the wood and curl around his fingers. He smiled, revisiting the way that Mulciber had screamed, and dropped off into a dreamless sleep. It was good to be home.