Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Time to take a chance

Surprise!

Time is a very curious thing.

Time sometimes feels like it flows too fast while other times it feels like it takes forever for another grain of sand to fall in an hourglass. Time changes your perception of things. The time when an event takes place can change a lot of things and have a lot of consequences.

Perhaps that was the next events in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would take place that night instead of years earlier or much later, once everything had come to pass. Had they happened later, it would have been for nothing, but it would have done more harm than good if they had happened earlier.

Of course, none of the wizards and witches currently in the Great Hall knew that nor that something unexpected was going to happen. How could they? They only knew that that year was going to be special with the Triwizard Tournament and its three champions were going to be chosen any moment now. The students were all waiting impatiently for Dumbledore to finish his dinner, many of them sending glances at the blue-white flames of the Goblet of Fire.

What they weren’t expecting was for the Great Hall to suddenly be filled with a flash of light that blinded everyone. When the bright spots disappeared from everyone’s eyes, they couldn’t see anything out of order. Everybody was on their feet with their wands ready to defend themselves, but nothing more than that.

Well, there was one thing…

“What the…?” A voice carried through the Great Hall, making many heads turn in that direction. It belonged to a boy with unruly black hair and round glasses that they all knew. “A package? I receive a package now?”

“Mr. Potter?” The headmaster prompted, his blue eyes sharp and the twinkle that was usually in them completely gone.

“This has appeared, Professor,” Harry said, poking the cardboard box with his wand warily.

“It has your name on it,” Hermione said, eyeing the top where ‘Harry James Potter’ was written with a somewhat familiar chicken scribble. She knew it from somewhere but she couldn’t quite put her finger on where.

Dumbledore quickly walked over to the Gryffindor table, the students parting to allow him to get close to the box. He was followed closely behind by McGonagall, Snape, Moody, Crouch, Bagman, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime while the other professors tried to maintain a minimum of order as whispers spread across the student body.

“Mr. Potter, everyone, step back,” McGonagall ordered immediately. Her students quickly hurried to obey, knowing better than to ignore her orders when she sounded like that.

The old headmaster waved his wand over the box in complicated motions, whispering under his breath and frowning in confusion when nothing happened.

“I don’t think it has any harmful hex or charm on it,” he said after a while. He had checked in every way he knew how to do it and all the results had come back negative. He reached out with a hand, keeping his wand ready just in case, and tried to open the box. To his bafflement, it remained firmly shut.

“Somezing wrong, Dumbly-dorr?” Madame Maxime asked sharply as she eyed the box mistrustfully. She had taken care to position herself between the box and the students from her school, which were two tables away.

“Not really,” the headmaster said pensively. “I can’t open the box.”

“I think that counts as something wrong, Dumbledore,” Karkaroff snarked impatiently.

“Maybe not, if I’m not the one who’s meant to open it,” Dumbledore said, turning his gaze towards Harry. The boy was standing a couple of feet away, next to his friends and the other Gryffindors who had been ushered away by their head of house.

Harry blinked startled when he found himself the focus of a pair of twinkling blue eyes. “Me?” He blurted out shocked, pointing at himself. He looked behind him, half hoping that the old man was looking at someone else.

“You want a school boy to open a box with unknown contents that had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of your school, Albus?” Crouch asked, not looking too happy with the prospect.

“It has his name on it, Barty. It was clearly meant for him,” Dumbledore nodded. “It stands to reason that whoever went to such lengths to send him this package, managing to bypass the wards around the castle, would make sure that he would be the only one able to reveal its contents.”

“Bloody fantastic,” the boy cursed under his breath. This was the last thing he needed. He had just wanted to see who the champions were and celebrate with his friends, trying to guess what they would have to face.

“C’mon, mate,” Ron said, clapping his shoulder in support. “Better get it over with.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Harry huffed, tightening his grip on his wand as he walked closer.

He closed the distance to the box and opened it without problem. There wasn’t any kind of mystical glow or anything. He didn’t know what had stopped Dumbledore from opening it, but he felt nothing. He looked inside apprehensively, half expecting to see something horrible and half expecting to see a treasure. The last thing he thought he would see was…

“Books?” He exclaimed. “They’ve sent me books?”

“What kind of books?” Hermione asked curiously as she peeked over his shoulder.

“I’m not sure. It says…” Harry grabbed the one that was on top, a red one, and looked at the cover, trailing off as he read the title. “Harry Potter and…”

“And?” Moody snapped when he didn’t continue.

“I don’t know,” Harry frowned, turning the book around to show it to them. “It’s all blurry. I can’t read it.” It reminded him of how he saw when he didn’t have his glasses.

“All the books are like that,” Ron said, pulling them out of the box and inspecting a dark blue one. They were all in different widths and colours, but the title was the same one.

“And they’re all blank,” Dumbledore observed, having opened a purple one. Snape was examining a green one and McGonagall was frowning at the one in her hands, a black one with the title in white.

If he was honest with himself, Harry was glad about that. With that title, it was likely that those books were about him and that creeped the hell out of him. He didn’t want any books —any more books, at least— written about him. He was mentioned in too many of them already and he didn’t like it.

“What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?” Madame Maxime asked, beginning to look cross as she flicked through the pages of an orange book and found it totally blank, too.

“Does this have anything to do with the Tournament?” Karkaroff asked with a frown. He was staring at a thick pink book with an expression of distaste.

“Nothing,” Ludo Bagman said, looking more interested than wary.

“We have not planned this, Karkaroff,” Crouch assured him. “This is not our doing.”

“What are we supposed to do, then?” McGonagall asked puzzled.

“There’s something else, Professor,” Hermione said. She was looking inside the box, which was now empty save for an envelope. “It has your name on it, too,” she said, handing it to Harry.

The boy stared at it half annoyed and half scared. What was going on? What were those books? Who had sent them? Why had they sent them? He guessed that staring at his name scrawled with a weirdly familiar handwriting wasn’t going to give him the answers.

“Should I read it aloud, professor?” He asked tiredly as he tore it open.

“Please, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore nodded.

Hello, Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons,

This may come to a shock to most of you and many won’t like what we’re going to say. Well, too bad. This is more important than that Tournament that’s just beginning.

First things first, you’re about to receive a few guests, some of which you’ll know, some of which you won’t. There’s one thing that you must know and it’s that NONE OF THEM is to harmed in any way.

“Guests?” Karkaroff interrupted. “What guests?”

Another flash of light cut off any answer he may have received. When the light vanished once more, it left in its wake several people, all of them vastly different.

“I think it’s talking about those guests,” Dumbledore said conversationally.

“SIRIUS BLACK!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked as she jumped away from the man she had appeared next to. Her husband pulled her back, away from the murderer, and stood in front of her and his oldest sons.

There was a whirlwind of chaos as the students panicked, the adults pulled out their wands again and a startled fugitive tried to figure out how to escape.

“Arrest him!” Crouch shouted, prompting Moody, a tall black wizard and a young witch with bright pink hair to lunge for him.

“NO!” A voice shouted before they could reach him. A blur shot past them and stood in front of the startled murderer.

“Potter, move aside!” Moody barked sharply, the tip of his wand shining ominously.

Harry glared back, not willing to give in. “No way. He’s innocent,” he declared firmly.

“Harry, get out of here,” Sirius urged him. He tried to push his godson away, but the child was stubborn and he refused to budge.

“I’m not gonna let them take you away and give you the Kiss, Sirius,” Harry said, ignoring the rising panic in his chest. Why had his godfather appeared in the middle of the Great Hall? What was whoever had sent him the package playing at? Did they want him dead or something?

“Potter, stop being a brat and let the aurors do their job,” Snape sneered, a hint of triumph in his black eyes.

“He’s innocent,” Harry repeated.

“I didn’t know you allowed this kind of defiance in your school, Dumbledore,” Karkaroff mocked.

“It is certainly unbecoming,” Madame Maxime scoffed, turning up her nose.

“Mr. Potter, if you don’t step aside this instant, you’ll be arrested for conspiring with a known fugitive and resisting against the authority,” Crouch warned.

“Harry, step aside,” Sirius ordered more urgently. The last thing he wanted was for his godson to get into trouble for him.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I can prove that you’re innocent. We can tell them what happened last year. Maybe they’ll believe us, unlike Fudge.”

“What about the Minister?” The tall black wizard asked, not lowering his wand, but looking reluctant to hex a child.

Seeing this man a bit more willing to listen, Harry sized the chance and hurried to explain. “We tried to tell him last year that Sirius didn’t murder those people thirteen years ago, but he refused to listen to us.”

“Potter, that’s a very dangerous man you’re trying to protect. He’s done things you don’t know,” Crouch said warningly.

“I do know them,” Harry argued back. “I know he’s accused for having betrayed my parents and having handed them over to Voldemort,” he snapped, ignoring the shudder that spread across the Great Hall like a ripple and the squeak of the younger students. “And for having murdered Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles thirteen years ago.”

“How do you know that?” Crouch asked, eyes narrowed. As far as he knew, everyone had agreed the year before that the less the Potter boy knew about that, the better for his own sake.

“I have a knack for finding out things on accident,” Harry replied. “Just like I found out that Sirius didn’t do any of those things.”

“The biggest piece we found of Peter Pettigrew was a finger. I highly doubted that he could be alive after that,” Crouch argued.

“Excuse me, sir,” Hermione intervened as Ron and she walked over to Harry and stood on either side of him, making their loyalties known. “But I think that would be the first clue that something isn’t right with the story you believe. What kind of curse would be able to do that? Even with the most powerful explosion, there should have been something else left behind, not just a finger.”

That made a few people hesitate. It was true. Explosions left a mess behind, not just a finger.

“We can provide memories,” Remus said, coming out of his shock and standing next to Sirius.

“You were there when Potter supposedly found out the truth about those events?” Crouch asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, sir. I’m Remus Lupin. I was a close friend of the Potters and I was a teacher here last year,” the werewolf nodded. “I would be willing to testify under Veritaserum to tell what happened.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” the tall black wizard mused pensively, even as he didn’t let up his alert stance.

Crouch pursed his lips. “Maybe,” he conceded. He knew that he hadn’t given this man the trial that he legally deserved.

“I have Veritaserum in my office,” Snape offered. “I could go fetch it right now.”

“What about the Tournament?” A girl from Beauxbatons asked.

It made many heads turn towards the blue-white flames. They had completely forgotten that a historical event was supposed to take place any minute.

“Should not somezing ‘ave ‘appened by now?” Madame Maxime asked with a confused frown. Unless they had timed it completely wrong, the Goblet should have already spat the names of the three champions.

Dumbledore frowned. “Yes, it should have.”

“What’s going on here?” Karkaroff demanded.

“We can find out after we’ve dealt with Black,” Crouch stated firmly, barely taking his eyes off the fugitive.

“If something has tampered with the Goblet of Fire, it has to be something serious, Barty,” Dumbledore intervened. “It’s not something we can leave for later.”

“And a murderer is?” The man asked incredulously.

“This is more important, Bartemius,” McGonagall said impatiently. “Someone has sent Potter a box with some books and has then brought all these people to Hogwarts when you know very well that it’s impossible to apparate in here. And then the Goblet, a powerful magical artefact, starts malfunctioning. Don’t you think it could be related to the box and the books?”

“Well said, Minerva,” Dumbledore said with a tiny smile.

“We should arrest Black and keep him in custody at least,” Crouch insisted stubbornly.

“And where would I go without someone noticing?” Sirius couldn’t suppress the urge to ask, his voice dripping his sarcasm. He waved a hand around him. “Think I could slip unnoticed past hundreds of students, two aurors, a paranoid ex-auror and two officers from the Ministry?”

“We’re not taking any chances, Black,” Crouch snapped.

Remus nudged his childhood friend before he could reply. “Just give them your wand, Sirius. This could be your only chance to get a trial and be free,” he said pleadingly.

That shut up the animagus rather quickly. With a sigh, he drew his wand and handed it to the pink-haired witch. “There. Better now?” He asked, feeling naked and unprotected without the wand he had been able to procure just a couple of weeks before. It may not be as good as the one that had chosen him in Ollivander’s shop when he was eleven, but it was his only defence.

“Much,” Crouch snapped. “Dumbledore, get on with this.”

“Mr. Potter, if you could please continue reading the letter…” The headmaster prompted, looking pointedly at the parchment still held in the teenager’s hand.

Harry had relaxed as he heard that they were going to give Sirius a chance. With a bit (a lot) of luck, his godfather would be free and he would be able to go live with him, but he hardly dared to hope. He had got his hopes up the year before only to have them trashed.

He was still standing in front of Sirius with his wand in his hand, but he was no longer ready to attack or defend his godfather. Maybe, just maybe, whoever had written him this letter had known what they were doing when they had brought Sirius here.

Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it? Just in case, it is true that Sirius Black is innocent and you will find the proof you need in the third of the books. Don’t bother trying to read it now. It will remain blank until the moment is right.

Dumbledore, you may want to go to Alastor Moody’s office and open his trunk. You’re going to find a surprise there. And, Crouch, we know that you’re itching to arrest someone, so we’re giving you a real culprit and a chance to mend your mistake. Start with the imposter poising as an ex-auror next to you.

“This has to be some joke!” Moody roared incensed, his magical eye turning in every direction.

“Alastor?” Dumbledore asked sharply, his voice icy as he stared at whom he considered a good friend.

“Albus, this is nonsense!”

“Is it?” The headmaster asked calmly, his wand ready in his hand but pointing at the floor. “Everything else the letter has said is surprisingly true. I find little reason not to believe it now.”

“Moody, hand over your wand,” Crouch ordered firmly, but his eyes were filled with dread.

For a minute, nobody moved. The students had backed away from the confrontation they could feel coming and Sirius, Remus and the Weasleys had pulled Harry, Ron and Hermione back. That left only the supposed imposter surrounded by the teachers and the officers from the Ministry, all of them with their wands ready.

With a desperate roar, Moody raised his wand and a bright red light shot out of it. Thankfully, Dumbledore waved his wand in a big circle that made a shield appear and absorb the curse before it could harm any of the students. Not even thirty seconds later, the now-clearly-imposter was unconscious on the floor.

“Check his pockets,” Crouch ordered.

The tall black wizard stepped forward to do that, pulling out the flask that Moody carried everywhere. One sniff at its contents had him reeling back with a grimace.

“Polyjuice Potion,” he said, standing up again. “I think this is enough proof that this man is not Alastor Moody.”

“Then where is the real one?” The pink-haired witch asked, frowning in concern. She was clearly close to the ex-auror, the real one at least.

“The trunk,” Dumbledore realised with wide eyes as he remembered what the letter said. “It said I would find a surprise in Alastor’s trunk.”

“The imposter would have to keep him close to keep making the potion,” Snape said through gritted teeth.

“Severus, Poppy, with me,” Dumbledore said immediately as he marched out of the Great Hall with long strides.

“Dumbly-dorr, ‘old on a second,” Madame Maxime demanded. “What about zis man?”

“He’ll be back to normal in an hour at most and we’ll hopefully be back long before that with the real Alastor Moody with us,” the old man said, barely slowing down at all. Before someone else could argue, he was gone.

“For the love of…” Karkaroff swore infuriated. “He’s the one that said that we should figure out what’s going on with those damn books and the Goblet first and now he’s gone.”

“Honestly, Igor, Alastor’s life could be in danger,” McGonagall snapped, having little patience for the man’s whines at the moment. She was keeping an eye on the man that Flitwick was tying up after checking for emergency portkeys so he couldn’t escape.

“Maybe we should send the students to their common rooms, Minerva,” Professor Sprout said grimly. She didn’t like having the children witnessing these events. They were things that no child should have to worry about.

“Yeah, you’re right, Pomona,” the head of Gryffindor nodded.

“I’m not sure if sending the students away is the best idea right now,” Flitwick said with a serious expression. “We’ve already found an imposter among us, some powerful magic has tampered with the Goblet and that letter that seems to know too much… I’d prefer to have all the students where we could keep an eye on them. It would be easier to protect them if they’re all in the same place.”

McGonagall sighed troubled. Why had this had to happen? Filius had a good point. Besides, she had the feeling that they wouldn’t be able to send at least Harry to the common room since the damn box was sent to him. And it wouldn’t be fair to single him out again, or more like single him out even more.

Speaking of Harry…

“Sirius,” the boy said, turning around to look at his godfather in relief. “How are you here?”

“You tell me,” the animagus said. “I was hiding and I had no intention of entering Hogwarts.”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Harry said anxiously. “This, this box appeared out of nowhere and the letter said that we were going to have guests and…”

“Harry,” Hermione interrupted him, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. This may be a good thing.”

“Then why do I have such a bad feeling about all this?” Harry replied.

Hermione bit her lip. “I don’t know. But whatever happens, at least this has given Sirius a chance.”

“Ron!” A voice interrupted them. Mrs. Weasley was storming towards them with a thunderous expression. “What were you thinking? What were all of you thinking?! How could you protect a murderer from the Ministry?!”

“Mum, he’s innocent!” Ron protested.

“How would you know that?!” His mother shrieked.

“We found out last year!” Ron said, his ears turning red. “And the letter has said so, too!”

“We don’t even know who has sent that letter!” She argued.

“Mrs. Weasley, they were still right about Moody,” Harry dared to say. He couldn’t let his best friend stand up for his godfather on his own.

Her anger faltered. “That’s not enough proof…”

“But it’s enough to raise some doubts about Sirius’ innocence, isn’t it?” Harry pressed on.

“Mrs. Weasley, they’re telling the truth,” Remus said tiredly. “I was with them last year when they found out. Sirius is innocent.”

Mrs. Weasley hesitated before her resolve strengthened. “I want to know the whole truth. Now,” she demanded.

They knew better than to anger the redheaded woman. They were ready to spill everything when a yell interrupted them.

“He’s changing back!” The pink-haired witch warned everyone. She was glaring hatefully at the imposter with her wand aimed at him.

Everyone turned to stare at the unconscious man. His face began to change, smoothing out as the scars disappeared. The hair turned straw yellow, and both the peg leg and the magical eye fell as the real leg and eye grew back. In just a few moments, a completely different man was standing in Moody’s previous place.

“Barty Crouch Jr.!” McGonagall exclaimed stunned.

Many heads turned towards the pale Barty Crouch Sr., who was staring at his son in horror.

“Barty, what’s going on?” Ludo Bagman asked warily, stepping away from the man.

“I would like to know that, too,” Dumbledore said as he came back with Snape on his heels.

“Where’s Moody?” The pink-haired witch asked as soon as she saw him.

“He’s in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey. He was unconscious, but mostly unharmed. He’ll be fine in the morning after a night’s rest,” the headmaster assured her.

“Good,” the tall black wizard said before returning his gaze towards Crouch. “You owe us an explanation. And I think it’s your turn to hand over your wand.”

“I… I…” He hesitated.

“Barty,” Dumbledore said firmly. “Your wand.”

“Dumbledore… I… my fault… Bertha…” The man murmured, looking at war with himself.

“What is he talking about?” Karkaroff snapped. “What’s that nonsense?”

Dumbledore walked closer to the man, his wand ready just in case. “Barty?”

“Dumbledore… he… stronger… warn…” Crouch mumbled, becoming more agitated.

The headmaster now stood in front of the man. He studied him carefully before his eyes widened. “He’s controlled by the Imperius Curse,” he muttered.

“What? Zat’s ridiculous, Dumbly-dorr,” Madame Maxime scoffed.

Dumbledore frowned, not taking his eyes off Barty, who kept muttering things under his breath. “I don’t think so. I believe he’s fighting the curse but whoever casted it is clearly powerful.”

“What should we do?” The tall black wizard asked.

The headmaster pursed his lips. “I think the best thing would be to give poor Barty a respite of the ordeal he’s going through,” he decided, flicking his wand. A red beam hit Crouch in the chest and he crumpled to the floor. “We’ll take him to the infirmary once we’re finished here.”

“Albus, what’s going on?” McGonagall asked, beginning to be overwhelmed. They were only supposed to find out who the champions were going to be. Instead, they found an imposter, said father’s imposter being imperiused, a powerful magical artefact malfunctioning, something bypassing the wards around Hogwarts like they didn’t exist, a murderer appearing in the Great Hall and those blasted blank books.

“I don’t know, Minerva,” Dumbledore answered grimly. “I’m hoping that the letter in Mr. Potter’s hand can offer some explanations. Mr. Potter, if you could continue reading…”

Harry took a shaky breath, a part of him wishing that he hadn’t got out of bed that morning. After the past three Halloweens at Hogwarts and now this, he was beginning to think that the day was cursed.

Now that that’s over, we think we should give you some explanations. You better restrain Barty Crouch Sr. well because he’s under the Imperius Curse and you better restrain Barty Crouch Jr. even better because you’ll need his testimony in the future, and not just to help clean Sirius’ name. Don’t bother questioning them, nor Sirius Black. You’ll get a full detailed explanation for both things in the books.

Now, onto the books. You may have noticed that they’re blank except for half the title. They’ll remain like that until the person whose story they tell about agrees to read them. Yes, Harry, that’s you. Seven books about your seven years in Hogwarts, one book per year. Your years in Hogwarts until now have been difficult, but they’re nothing compared to what they’ll be from now on. This year, your fourth year, will mark a difference for everyone and everything will begin to go downhill unstoppably.

That’s why we’ve sent the books. They’re a heads-up about what’s to come, so that all of you can prepare for it. They have everything you need to know to defeat Voldemort for good this time. He’ll be back sooner than you think and a lot of people will die, people who’s right there in the Great Hall.

A stony silence spread across the room. You-Know-Who was coming back? Surely that was a joke. That couldn’t be right. He had been gone for thirteen years now. Harry Potter had defeated him, the same Harry Potter who was now staring at the parchment in his hands with a pale face.

They couldn’t know it, but he was remembering the dream he had had that summer, the dream about Voldemort planning his return to full power and his murder with Wormtail. He was going to succeed? How soon was sooner than he thought? How much time did they have to prepare?

“Harry,” Ron murmured, equally pale. “Keep reading.”

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head.

Many of those deaths could’ve been avoided if people had got their heads out of their asses sooner. We hope that these books will give them the kick in the ass they need to start preparing and hopefully save many lives. Not only that, but maybe a few people will avoid a couple of horrible decisions they will make and will try to do better. Many secrets will come to light in the books, secrets that will hurt, but we’re asking all of you NOT TO JUDGE until you finish the last page of the last book. Things won’t always be what they seem and you’ll probably have to eat your words if you accuse too hastily because there are many people who’ll be judged too harshly in the next four years. This is a second chance to all of you. We hope you don’t waste it.

We know that you don’t want people to read your life, Harry, and we’re sorry, but this is necessary. You’re the one who was stuck at the very centre of it all and lived through all of it. That’s why we created these books from your point of view, which, unfortunately, includes your thoughts and feelings and a few dreams. We’ve taken out a few that weren’t related to Voldemort and the war, but we aren’t sure we got all of them.

We know that’s bad enough, but that’s not the worst thing.

It wasn’t? How could it not?

The whole Great Hall was wondering the same thing. Their thoughts, feelings and dreams, their whole life plastered over the pages of seven books. That was a nightmare come true. Nothing could be worse than that.

The spell needed to create these books has a huge drawback. They’re from your point of view because they’re connected to you, literally. That means that whatever happens to you in those books will happen to you for real. Don’t try to correct those effects. You may be able to lessen them in some cases, but they won’t disappear until they pass in the story or until you finish whatever book you’re reading at the moment.

We know. Awful.

We could have tried to include different points of view so that at least you wouldn’t be the only linked to the books and it wouldn’t be just your thoughts you would read, but that was a bad idea. As we’ve said, not everyone in the Great Hall survives and we didn’t want people to begin dropping dead in the middle of the reading.

Everyone was horrified. Linked to the books? Feeling whatever they read happened to him? The letter had been right. This was infinitely worse. Who had created those books? Had they wanted to torture Potter?

Either way, they couldn’t help but feel secretly relieved that not everyone would be linked to the books like Potter was. Knowing that not everyone would survive the next four years if it was true that it was a book per year, they didn’t want to risk being the ones that would drop dead unannounced. Or, well, announced but beyond aid.

The other option that would have allowed to get the whole story would have been from Voldemort’s point of view, but we think we can all agree that would have been much creepier. No one wants that.

There was a collective shudder in the Great Hall as they imagined it.

No. Nobody wanted to get into that psycho’s head. Thinking about the possibility was bad enough. It made their skin crawl.

Another thing, nobody can enter or exit Hogwarts until you’ve finished reading all the books. You’re inside a time bubble as you may have noticed when the Goblet of Fire didn’t start announcing the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. Don’t worry, nobody will miss you outside. It will be like no time at has passed when you go out of there.

Finally, everyone there has to make an oath not to reveal to anyone outside the existence of the books or their contents. Anyone who tries to listen or read without making this oath will be instantly transported to the infirmary, where they’ll remain unconscious until the end of the reading, and they won’t remember a thing when they wake up.

Before any of you argue, this is some dangerous knowledge we’re giving you here. Things are already starting to change and you haven’t even begun to read the books. We can’t afford to risk having this information falling into the wrong hands. It would be disastrous for everyone.

There’ll be a single exception to this and that will be Harry since the books are about him. And before you say that it isn’t fair that Harry doesn’t have to make the oath, you’ll need a failsafe in case you need to tell someone about all this. Since we can all agree that, being the books about his life, he won’t be going around telling everybody about them, he’ll be the one exempt from the oath and there’s no point trying to argue about it. We can’t hear you anyway and we won’t change our minds.

Harry, we’ve made sure that the books will remain blank until you agree to read them. You have an option here. It’s your life they’re telling and you’ll be the one who will be in pain. If you don’t want to read them, just put everything back inside the box and tap it with your wand. It will disappear along with all your memories and everything will go back to how it was before the first flash of light. It’s keyed to your magical signature so it’ll only work if you do it willingly.

It’s your decision and your decision alone, Harry.

Good luck, everyone.

A few friends from a future that will hopefully improve

Nobody knew what to say when Harry finished reading the letter. What were they supposed to say?

“I think it’s time for the students to go to their common rooms,” Dumbledore broke the silence.

“What?” McGonagall asked, still stunned.

“We’re not going to begin reading tonight no matter what’s Mr. Potter’s decision,” the headmaster said firmly. “And this isn’t something that can be decided on a whim. Mr. Potter should have time to think it through and he’ll announce his decision in the morning. Meanwhile, I believe we have two men to secure so they don’t escape.”

“What about Sirius Black?” The tall black wizard asked calmly.

“He can’t go anywhere and he doesn’t have a wand,” Dumbledore replied. “I believe he won’t be a threat.”

“Are you sure, Dumbledore?” The man asked, not looking too happy.

“I’m sure, Kingsley,” the headmaster nodded resolutely. “We have other things to worry about than a man that was convicted for something he didn’t do. Instead, we better take these men to the dungeons. It’s been a long time since they were used with that purpose, but I’m sure they’re still a good place to make sure they can’t escape.”

“My students, to the carriage!” Madame Maxime announced, agreeing with Dumbledore’s decision. She wanted her students safe where she could keep an eye on them.

“Durmstrang’s students, to the ship!” Karkaroff ordered, paler than normal.

“And the rest of the students to their common rooms!” McGonagall said, not leaving room for arguments.

“Harry, come on,” Hermione said softly, gently grabbing his elbow to guide him back to the Gryffindor table to take the books.

“Albus, Sirius and I will go to the Gryffindor tower, too, unless you need us for something,” Remus said, uncharacteristically serious.

“Of course, Remus,” Dumbledore nodded.

“We’ll go there, too,” Mrs. Weasley said, lips pursed as she stared mistrustfully at Sirius.

“Dumbly-dorr,” Madame Maxime called when she was about to exit the Great Hall after her students. She was staring at Harry, who was carrying the box with the books, disapprovingly. “We are letting zat child take ze books?”

“They tell his story, Madame Maxime,” the headmaster said. “I think it’s his right to do with them as he pleases.”

“Even if they hold important information like the return and demise of the Dark Lord?” Karkaroff asked, having stopped by the door, too. He didn’t look happy at all.

“It’s my life,” Harry intervened before Dumbledore could even open his mouth. He was glaring at the other two headmasters, not liking how they were suggesting that he shouldn’t be the one taking the books. “These books were sent to me, they tell my life and it’s my decision whether we read them or not.”

Karkaroff bristled. “You…”

“Watch your tongue, Karkaroff,” Sirius intervened, taking a step forward. He glared at the man warningly.

The headmaster of Durmstrang scowled, but he didn’t see any support when he looked around. Not saying another word, he whirled around and strolled out of sight quickly.

“Let’s go to the tower, Harry, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said softly.

Nobody talked as they walked through the corridors and climbed the stairs. When they reached the Fat Lady, she was accompanied by another witch as they both gossiped.

“Who’s been chosen as the champions?” The Fat Lady asked eagerly.

“Balderdash,” Ron said instead of answering.

“It’s not!” The other witch exclaimed indignant.

“It’s just the password, Vi,” the Fat Lady calmed her down as she turned on her hinges to let them enter the common room.

It seemed like every Gryffindor was waiting for them inside. It was almost enough to make Harry turn on his heels and flee in the opposite direction, but he simply ignored all the stares with practiced ease and flopped down on the couch he usually occupied with Ron and Hermione. He left the box at his feet and dropped his head in his hands, resisting the urge to groan and yell in frustration. He felt his two best friends sit on either side of him.

“So,” Ron said after a minute when nobody talked. “That was unexpected.”

Hermione leant forward to glare at him. “Really, Ron? That’s all you have to say?”

“What else do you want me to say?” Ron replied annoyed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and she crossed her arms over her chest as she leant back. “I don’t know why I bother,” she huffed.

Ron went to exchange a baffled look with Harry, but his best friend wasn’t listening, too busy glaring at the box at his feet. He clapped his shoulder and gave him a shake to get his attention. “What are you going to do, mate?” He asked, becoming more serious.

Harry’s glare intensified. “I don’t know,” he said through gritted teeth. “This whole thing sucks.”

“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed scandalized. She had never heard such language from him.

“Mum, I think he’s entitled to a few curses and swears after the bomb he had just had dropped on him,” Bill said dryly. He was standing his arms crossed, leaning against the couch occupied by his sister and the twins.

“I would have been swearing up a storm a long while ago,” Charlie agreed, standing next to his big brother with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“It doesn’t matter what you two would be doing,” Ginny cut in, looking annoyed. “I think what Harry is going to do now is a bit more important.”

“He’s going to burn those books,” Sirius said firmly. He was standing behind an armchair where Remus had sat, hands gripping the backrest so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Many heads snapped towards him startled. Almost everyone was still wary of having him there, but Dumbledore didn’t seem to have a problem with it and the letter that had been right about everything said that he was innocent so… Nobody uttered a protest yet. Not that that meant that they trusted him.

“Burn the books?” Harry repeated, thinking that he had to have heard him wrong.

“Yes,” the animagus nodded. “Right now, in fact.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “No,” he snapped, making everyone stop in their tracks.

“No?” Mrs. Weasley asked. She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but she agreed with Sirius Black here. She wanted to burn those books until there weren’t even ashes left.

“No,” Harry confirmed. “I don’t know what I want to do with them, but burning them before I decide is not an option.”

“Harry, those books,” George said, looking at him with a serious expression.

“Are a nasty piece of work,” Fred finished for him. They didn’t know everything Harry had been through, but they knew enough to know that making him feel it all over again, never mind whatever would happen in the future, was not going to be fun.

“I’m not saying that I want to read them,” Harry said, clenching his jaw.

“Harry, you don’t have many more options than that,” Percy intervened as he took a sit on the armrest next to George. It was rather risky of him, but he figured that the situation was too serious for even George to try to prank him right then.

“He’s right,” Charlie nodded. “Either we read them or we don’t.”

“We’re not reading them,” Sirius snapped, glaring at them furiously.

“That’s not your decision,” Harry said, narrowing his eyes in his godfather’s direction. It was ticking him off to hear so many people making decisions in his stead.

Sirius turned around to gape at his godson. “Harry…”

“We have to read them,” the boy cut him off. “We can’t not read them. Many people will die if we don’t.”

People didn’t answer then. They were staring at him with a mix of pity and sympathy and half another emotions that Harry didn’t want to even begin to decipher.

“It’s not fair to you, Harry,” Remus said sadly.

“Life isn’t fair,” he replied bitterly. He had accepted long beforehand that he had a knack for drawing the short stick time and time again.

“You shouldn’t have to do this, Harry,” Sirius said just as sadly.

Harry was getting irritated now. “You don’t have to be there if you don’t want to,” he said, making an effort not to snap. “In fact, I would rather that nobody heard them.”

“So, you don’t want to read them,” Bill summed up.

“Of course not,” Harry huffed. “I don’t want anyone to listen to my life like it’s a story. That’s not right. If I could, I would be reading them on my own.” He stopped pensively. “Maybe I can. The letter did say that they needed my permission for the books to stop being blank.”

“We’re not allowing you to read them on your own, Harry,” Hermione said firmly, sending him a steely glare.

“We’re reading them with you, Hermione and I,” Ron said, clenching his jaw stubbornly.

“Hey, you three don’t get to do this on your own,” Ginny intervened angrily. “You’re always doing things your way, with your secrets that you never tell anyone. But now we can be part of that.”

“Shut up, Ginny,” Ron snapped.

“Ron! Don’t talk to your sister like that!” His mother scolded him.

“She’s just butting her nose where it’s not her business!” He protested.

“Technically, it’s not your business either,” his sister said acidly. “It’s Harry’s. And you’ve invited yourself to the reading, too, when he said that he didn’t want anyone to hear. I don’t understand why we can’t do the same.”

“You know nothing about he’s been through!” Ron yelled. “About what we’ve all been through!”

“That’s the problem! You three never let anyone in!” Ginny snapped, losing her temper.

It was something that had always frustrated her. When she had found out that Ron was best friends with Harry Potter, she had been sure that that was her chance to get closer to him. Of course, it hadn’t worked that way since she hadn’t been able to bring herself to talk in front of him in spite of how polite he had been. But she had got over that and she had hoped that she would be included in their adventures then, that she would be part of the rumours the students whispered in the corridors.

That had never happened. The three of them had clumped up every time she had tried to get included in one of those conversations in hushed tones. They never told her anything, like she was just a little girl that couldn’t be told anything important.

It was something that bothered a bit all of the Weasleys, but none as much as Ginny. She was the one closest in age to them, just a year younger than Harry, and she was still left in the dark. Why couldn’t they see that she wanted to help, that she wanted to be part of that?

“It’s not your business!” Ron yelled, not caring how they were the focus of attention of everyone in the common room.

“And is it yours?!” She argued. “Why can’t we help Harry, too?!”

“This isn’t about that, Ginny,” Harry intervened before Ron could continue the screaming match with his sister.

“Then what is it about, Harry?” She asked annoyed.

Harry sighed and racked a hand through his hair, avoiding all the gazes fixed on him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know…”

“Then let us find out,” she snapped impatiently. “Why don’t you want us to know?”

Now Harry was getting annoyed, too. “I don’t have to let anyone read my life. I’ve lived through it and it’s not pretty and whatever you don’t know you don’t need to know.”

“Why don’t you want to let us help?” She asked, making an effort not to shout again. “You can’t do everything on your own, Harry.”

“I don’t do everything on my own,” he said angrily. “I have people who help me every time.”

“You’re talking about Ron and Hermione, aren’t you?” She said through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, not an ounce of shame on his face. His two best friends had helped him through everything and they would help him with everything they didn’t know about, but he refused to tell them. He didn’t want them to know even more than they already knew about the Dursleys. It was too much as it was.

“We can help, too,” Ginny argued.

“I don’t want more people to find out,” Harry replied stubbornly. Why couldn’t have the books appeared when he was alone or just with Ron and Hermione? Why hadn’t he hidden the box instead of announcing to the whole Great Hall that it had appeared? Everything would be so much easier now.

“Why?!” She snapped.

“Because, Ginny!” He said impatiently. It wasn’t that difficult to understand. “It’s my life and there are some things that I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t talk about them just like you don’t talk about your first year.”

That shut up the redhead rather quickly. It was true that she despised anyone even mentioning her first year to her. She didn’t want to talk about it and she didn’t want people to find out. But it wasn’t the same. Harry wasn’t the victim in those adventures he had, he was the hero and Ron and Hermione were right beside him, right where she wanted to stand, too.

“Ginny, I think Harry is right,” Arthur said softly. He may not like it and it may sometimes drive him crazy with worry when he didn’t know what had happened to those three, but he couldn’t demand answers from them, not when two of them weren’t really his kids. And Merlin knew that Ron was tightlipped about almost everything that had to do with those… ‘adventures’, for a lack of a better word, that they had.

“But it’s also true that we want to help,” Mrs. Weasley said determined. She agreed with her daughter, partially at least. Rather, she thought that Ron, Harry and Hermione shouldn’t get involved in those things at all. They should just tell an adult what they found out and let them handle it. They were just kids.

Harry sighed tiredly and rubbed his scar distractedly. “I know you want, Mrs. Weasley. It’s just that it isn’t possible most of the time. And in this case… well, it wouldn’t really be a big help, you know? It’s just reading a few books and we can tell you anything pertinent about Voldemort.”

“Harry, you’re not leaving me out of this,” Sirius said stubbornly. He was not letting his godson reading those books without him. He didn’t know what exactly had happened that only Harry and his two best friends knew about, but he wanted to find out.

Harry pushed down his panic. If there was one person he didn’t want to find out, it was Sirius. The man was really overprotective, almost as much as Mrs. Weasley but in a completely different way. He didn’t smother with affection, but he worried and became reckless and did stupid things and wanted him to remain a kid when he couldn’t do that. He hadn’t been a kid for a long time now.

“Nor me,” Remus said, looking at Harry cautiously. He knew that he didn’t have much of a relationship with Harry compared to Ron and Hermione, but he thought that he deserved to know. Had things been a bit different, Harry would have grown up calling him Uncle Moony and that, in his opinion, entitled him to know what his honorary nephew had been through.

Harry wanted to tear his hair out. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened in his fight against Quirrell in first year, or how close he had been to death in the Chamber of Secrets, or what he heard when the dementors got close. He didn’t everyone to hear how bloody terrified he had been in everyone of those occasions, or what he thought every second of the day, or what his life with the Dursleys was like.

It was his life and he didn’t want anyone to go around poking their noses into it. He didn’t bother other people like that, did he? He didn’t go around trying to find out what they thought and what they did and everything, so why did everyone else think that they had any right to do that with his life?

“I’m going for a walk,” he announced abruptly, standing up and walking out of the common room before they could try to stop him.

“Well, that went well,” Bill commented sarcastically.

“Shouldn’t we bring him back?” Percy asked, staring disapprovingly at the door. “It’s past curfew and Professor Dumbledore ordered all the students to go to their common rooms.”

Ron snorted. “If you think you can find Harry and drag him back now, be my guest.”

“I don’t get it,” Sirius said frustrated. “I could understand if he was against reading, but he just doesn’t want us to read. Why?”

“That’s a question many people has asked since Harry came to Hogwarts,” George shrugged.

“It’s not a question that has been answered yet,” Fred said.

It bothered them a bit, but they understood. They also had secrets that they didn’t want anyone to find out and Harry always respected that, so, in return, they did the same. It was enough for them to know that, just like Harry would help them in a heartbeat if they asked, the boy knew that they were there for him at a moment’s notice. They only needed a word and they would help him in whatever way he needed. However, they also knew how capable and independent he was.

“But what exactly is he trying to hide?” The animagus insisted as his frustration grew. “I mean, I know what he was up to last year with the dementors and everything and it can’t possibly be worse than that…”

He trailed off as everyone turned to look at Ron and Hermione, the ones who could judge accurately the truth in Sirius’ statement. The two teenagers were avoiding all the gazes, refusing to look at them.

“Ron? Hermione?” Arthur asked quietly when they didn’t say anything.

Ron sighed. “What do you want me to say, dad?” He asked tiredly. “That I’m not sure if Harry counts the dementors as his worst experience? Because I don’t. We’ve been through a whole lot more than any of you know and Harry has been through even more things.”

“And we’re sure that Harry hasn’t told us everything,” Hermione chipped in. “There are always many details missing.”

“So, he keeps secrets from you too?” Ginny asked, feeling a bit relieved. It was good to know that Harry didn’t trust them with everything. Maybe there were even some things about the Chamber of Secrets that she knew and they ignored. It made her feel better, closer to Harry.

Ron glared at her, his temper rising quickly. He opened his mouth to snap at her, having had it with her and her jealousy of their friendship with their best friend. However, he was surprised when someone got to Ginny before him.

“Enough, Ginny,” Hermione snapped, her eyes narrowed and angered. It was enough to make the smallest redhead reel back in surprise. It was the first time Hermione, who was usually so patient and kind with her, talked to her like that. “Of course there are things we don’t know about Harry. There’s one little thing called privacy that we respect, but it’s enough that Harry knows that we’re there for him. We know enough and there’s a good reason he hasn’t told us anything else.”

The redheaded girl was taken aback by the sheer protectiveness shining in the brunette’s eyes. “But surely you must want to know…” She argued weakly.

Hermione gritted her teeth. “It doesn’t matter if we want to know or not. What matters is if us knowing would help Harry,” she said. “Like Harry said, you don’t want to talk about your first and nobody is making you do it. You must have realised that, if we read those books for the whole school to listen, they’ll find out what happened to you, the entire truth. And it won’t be any less horrible just because it will be from Harry’s point of view. He had a year that was as bad as yours.”

Ginny had gone pale in a couple of seconds. She hadn’t thought about it that way. Everyone knew that she had been taken to the Chamber of Secrets and rescued by Harry and Ron, but nobody suspected that her involvement got further than that. Those who knew had kept it secret, but if they read the books, it would come out and she couldn’t predict what the students reactions were going to be. Would they blame and ostracise her?

“Not so fun now, uh?” Ron said, with far less heat in his voice than before. He didn’t want everyone to know what had happened to his little sister any more than she did.

There was a long silence then. The rest of the Gryffindor students were whispering among themselves while their little group was just uncomfortable. Sirius and Remus were dying to ask what they were talking about, what had happened in Ginny’s first year and Harry’s second one, but the faces around them weren’t very inviting.

“So, what?” Sirius asked finally. “What are we supposed to do? Let Harry go on his own with the books and hope that he’ll tell us what they say?”

He desperately wanted to be part of his godson’s life. Not only was Harry the last connection he had to James and Lily, but he loved the kid. He wanted to be there for him and it frustrated him to know that Harry was keeping secrets, big secrets, from him. Why didn’t Harry trust him?

When Harry had been born and Sirius had held him for the first time, the animagus had imagined what the future would be like. How he would be Harry’s favourite uncle and how the boy would come to him with problems he didn’t dare go to his parents with. Harry would trust him with everything and would never doubt that his Uncle Padfoot would be there to help him get into and out of trouble. Of course, things hadn’t worked like that. Harry had only met him a few months prior and he had spent more time believing he had betrayed his parents than knowing that he was innocent.

…When he put it like that, it was no wonder that it took Harry a bit to trust him. Although, that didn’t mean it didn’t frustrate Sirius any less. His godson should be able to come to him with anything. If he was honest with himself, it saddened and made him a bit jealous that Harry seemed to trust Ron and Hermione more than him.

Said teenagers were currently exchanging a glance that hurt to look at because of how much it reminded him so much of the ones the Marauders used to share among them before life broke them.

“Yes,” Hermione said resigned but determined. “You do exactly that if that’s what he wants.”

“‘You’?” Charlie repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re not letting him read on his own,” Ron said stubbornly.

“And why can you read with him while we can’t?” Sirius asked. He didn’t care how childish he sounded. This was his godson they were talking about and he had every right to know what was going on in his life.

Ron glared at him. “First of all, because you don’t know half of what’s in those books and you’d freak out, which won’t help Harry at all.”

“I won’t freak out!” The animagus exclaimed indignant.

“Yes, you will,” Ron contradicted him. Sirius would completely lose his mind with first year alone.

“And secondly, we said that we’re not letting him read on his own, not that we would read with him,” Hermione added. As much as it would pain her to do it, she would simply sit next to Harry doing something else while he read, just in case he needed help. And he would need it. “Can you honestly say that you would be able to be in the same room as him and not try to take a peek at what he would be reading?” She asked sternly.

Everyone else in the common room, even those the words weren’t meant to, deflated at the same time. No, they wouldn’t be able to do that.

“There you have it,” Ron said when there was no answer.

“What if we could?” Molly fretted, wringing her hands together until her husband took them between his.

Hermione’s face softened. “Mrs. Weasley, you know a little bit of what has happened the last three years. You know Harry’s been hurt a lot and that he’ll feel like he’s hurt again when he’s reading,” she said quietly. “We’ve seen him hurt and in pain before, but he doesn’t like people to see him like that. Nobody likes that. Just…”

“Don’t make it harder than it’s going to be for him,” Ron bluntly finished for her when she couldn’t find the words.

“We would never…” Molly began appalled.

“Mum, it took months before Harry admitted in front of us that he was in pain,” Ron cut her off. “And he still doesn’t like it. It may not be that big deal for you, but it is for him. So, no matter whether he decides to let us read or not or just some of us, we will all respect that decision. Is that understood?”

A stunned silence followed his words, but no one dared to question the redhead’s words. They didn’t know that boy could carry that kind of authority, but there wasn’t a single protest in spite of the fact that nobody was happy. They knew deep down that it was Harry’s decision, but the curiosity and the concern were driving them crazy. They needed to hear that story. Maybe then they could understand Harry a little bit more, like Ron and Hermione did.

“Well, we’re going to bed,” Fred announced when the common room was already half empty.

“It’s been an exciting night and we will possibly have an even more exciting day tomorrow,” George nodded.

There were murmurs as they climbed the stairs to their dormitory before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood up again. “We’re going to see where we can sleep,” Molly said, grabbing her husband’s hand.

“Boys, are you coming or you’ll figure it out later?” Arthur asked, looking at his three oldest sons, who didn’t have a dormitory in the Gryffindor tower anymore.

“I’m going,” Percy said, standing up tiredly.

“Yeah, I think we’re coming with, too,” Charlie yawned, stretching his hands above his head. He had had a busy day choosing the dragons that they were going to bring for the first task and he was exhausted.

“Night,” Bill said over his shoulder to the rest of the group.

“I’m going to bed, too,” Ginny said, looking sullen and disappointed as she disappeared upstairs without looking at them.

“Sirius? Are you coming with?” Remus asked. He had stood up to leave, but his childhood friend was staring at Ron and Hermione with a half angry and half devastated expression. “Sirius?”

“Why doesn’t he trust me?” He asked the teenagers, ignoring his friend.

“It’s not that he doesn’t trust you,” Hermione tried to explain soothingly. “He does.”

“Not like he trusts you two,” he replied simply. Because it was the truth. There was no one Harry trusted quite like he trusted Ron and Hermione.

Hermione pursed her lips, trying not to stare at him with pity. “It’s more like… he doesn’t want to tell you some things.”

“Why?” He repeated frustrated. What had he done wrong? Harry knew that it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t have been there for him for almost twelve years, that he had been in Azkaban, didn’t he? He had to know that Sirius was trying now.

“You’ll have to ask him that,” Ron said, clenching his jaw stubbornly in a way that showed that they weren’t going to give in on this.

Sirius gritted his teeth annoyed. “Can you at least tell me why he trusts you two then?” He asked desperately. What had they done that he hadn’t?

Ron and Hermione shared a look. They knew the answer. They had been the first ones to stick with Harry through thick and thin and hadn’t judged him for who he was. But they knew that that answer wouldn’t satisfy Sirius nor would he like it.

“He has to be the one who explains that to you if he wants,” Hermione answered with a tone of finality that made the animagus bristle. He whirled around and stomped out of the Gryffindor tower.

Remus sighed tiredly. He understood Sirius’ frustration, but they couldn’t do anything about it. “See you in the morning,” he told the two teenagers before following his friend.

Ron and Hermione stayed sitting side by side for a minute.

The girl released all the air in her lungs. “Thank Merlin that’s finally over,” she sighed in relief.

“They sure can be persistent,” Ron said, scrunching up his nose. “Think we should go look for Harry?”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Not yet,” she decided. “Let’s wait for a while. We can go if he isn’t back in an hour.”

“Finding him with the map will be easy,” Ron nodded. Then he grinned. “A chess game in the meantime?”

Hermione grinned in amusement and rolled her eyes. “You enjoy that game too much,” she grumbled, but she accepted.

*** TTC ***

“Sirius, slow down!” Remus shouted from behind, but the animagus didn’t shorten his strides at all. With a disgruntled huff, the werewolf jogged to catch up. “Care to tell me what’s in your mind?”

“You know what’s in my mind,” Sirius spat, not looking at him.

Remus studied him for a moment. His friend was frowning heavily and he was clearly annoyed and hurt and angry.

“Does it really bother you that much that you’re not the first one Harry goes to when he has a problem?” He asked softly.

Sirius stopped so abruptly that Remus had to retrace a couple of steps. The animagus was glowering at him furiously, but he knew that the anger wasn’t directed at him.

“He should, Remus,” he growled. “When he has a problem like the ones everyone’s suggesting he has, he should have gone to James and Lily. And since they aren’t here, it’s me he should look at for help, or you.”

“But we weren’t there,” Remus said sadly.

“But we’re here now!” Sirius exclaimed annoyed.

“He’s grown up, Sirius,” he pointed out gently. “He had to find other people to rely on.”

“I know,” Sirius scowled, looking away. His anger melt away, leaving behind just the raw pain. “I just don’t understand why he can’t include us in that. I thought… I thought that he understood why we couldn’t be there for him, that he didn’t blame us.”

“I don’t think he blames us,” Remus argued, sounding much more confident than he felt. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure a small part of Harry didn’t resent them in the slightest. He sighed and laid a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “C’mon, Padfoot. Let’s turn in for the night. We can talk to Harry in the morning.”

*** TTC ***

The common room was already empty, except for Ron and Hermione. They were just finishing the chess game, which the redhead of course won by far, when the portrait opened again and Harry entered, shoulders hunched and hands curled into fists. They watched him let himself fall onto the couch, resting his head against the back. He looked much older than he was.

“I take it the walk didn’t help much?” Ron asked as they began to put away the chessboard.

Harry sighed with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “No,” he said. He leant forward to look at them. “I don’t know what to do.”

Ron and Hermione shared a glance, trying to find out what to tell him.

“Don’t get this wrong, Harry,” Hermione began. “But I don’t think you should read these books alone. You’re going to be hurting at some parts and-”

“I know,” Harry cut her off. He only had to remember the pain from his scar when he had touched Quirrel, or the way his vision had blurred when the basilisk fang had pierced his arm, or that he passed out when dementors got close, to know that he wouldn’t be able to keep reading when he reached those parts. “I… I know I can’t do it alone,” he admitted. He hesitated and looked at them half ashamed and half pleadingly. “Can you…?”

“You don’t have to ask, mate,” Ron said immediately, not even allowing him to finish. He got to his feet and sat next to him, clapping his shoulder.

“We know what happened anyway,” Hermione said, sending Harry a tiny smile.

Harry tried to return it, but it came out more like a grimace. “Not everything. There are a lot of things you don’t know.”

“About what happened every year?” Hermione asked. “Harry, we know that you didn’t tell us all the details. It’s okay.”

“Not just that,” Harry shook his head. They knew most details about those things, more than anyone and more than they thought.

“About the Dursleys?” Ron guessed knowingly. Harry’s flinch was enough of an answer. “We know enough. Nothing that appears in the books will scare us away. You forget who went to rescue you the summer before second year.”

“That wasn’t the worst, Ron,” Harry admitted, not looking at either of them. He hated talking about this, but he had to warn them. They deserved that much. “I don’t know what will appear since I don’t know when I’ve been thinking about what and I don’t know which parts we’ll read, but…”

“It’s okay, Harry,” Hermione said softly. She tried to sound normal in spite of the lump in her throat. Harry and Ron had told her what had happened that summer, how Ron and the twins had found Harry, and she didn’t want to imagine what could be worse than that.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Ron promised fiercely. Except how much he wanted to punch the Dursleys, but that was beside the point. Nothing would change between the three of them.

“And the others?” Harry asked warily.

“What about them?” Ron replied with a frown.

“They’re gonna want to listen and be there.”

“Well, yeah,” the redhead admitted. There was no point in trying to deny it. “They’re curious.”

“It’s your choice, Harry,” Hermione said firmly.

“But it won’t be. Not really,” the boy said angry and upset. “This, this is about Voldemort and about defeating him and Dumbledore and the professors and the Ministry workers are gonna want to know everything. They won’t be happy unless they can read it from the books.”

“As you said, they can’t read the books unless you let them, Harry,” Hermione comforted him. “They can’t force your hand.”

“What if they don’t let me read them unless they’re present?”

“Then you don’t read them,” she said simply.

“But we have to read them!” Harry exclaimed, standing up and starting to pace agitatedly. “We need every advantage we can get against Voldemort.” He stopped and deflated. “It’s not just that I don’t want them to read my life or be there when I go through it again,” he confessed, turning to send them a look of anguish. “Have you thought about how many rules and laws we’ve broken the last three years?”

Ron and Hermione paled slightly when they thought about that. It was one problem they hadn’t considered, but it was a very real one. Just the year before —using a time turner like that, rescuing a magical creature sentenced to death, helping a fugitive escape— was enough to have them expelled and chucked into Azkaban and their wands snapped.

“Merlin’s pants, my mum is gonna murder me if she reads those books,” Ron said terrified.

Hermione sent him an exasperated look. “I think we’re facing something a bit more grave than your mum’s anger, Ron.”

“That’s because it’s never been aimed your way,” he shuddered. He grinned at her teasingly. “Besides, you’re one to talk Mrs. Or-worse-expelled.”

Hermione flushed as she remembered that occasion and swatted his arm hard. “Don’t be a prat,” she mumbled, but she had a tiny grin of amusement, too.

Harry couldn’t fight the way his lips turned upwards. He wished they could be back to when the most exciting thing had been finding Fluffy on accident. That didn’t solve their problems, though.

Hermione looked at Harry and her face softened at the worry she could see in spite of the happy grin. “Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. We always do, right?” She comforted him.

Harry’s grin turned sad. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You wouldn’t be in this mess if you had befriended anyone else,” he said sadly. He hated that he put the people close to him in danger just by existing.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Now I know that you need sleep. You’re being dramatic again,” he scoffed. He picked up the box with the books and stood up to give Harry a push towards the stairs that led to their dormitory. “Night, Hermione. And you, you stubborn prat, we’ve told you a million times that we can make our own decisions so stop spurting that nonsense and go to sleep. You’re gonna need it tomorrow.”

Hermione snickered as she watched Ron bully Harry into going to bed and stop thinking. She knew that he was going to manage the former, but he was going to fail miserably on the latter. They said that she had a big brain, but it was Harry who had trouble turning his off sometimes.

Her mirth vanished when she was on her own. Harry had every right to be worried. She was worried sick, too, and so was Ron. Despite how many times they had repeated that it was Harry’s choice whether to read the books or not and who was allowed to read them, they all knew deep down that there wasn’t any choice. Not on this.

Anyone who knew Harry knew that he would want to read those books, no matter the cost to himself. The professors and Ministry officers just had to keep pressing on and Harry would give in on this. He couldn’t not to.

With a sigh, she stood up to go to bed, too. She fervently hoped that her earlier words to Harry were true and that they would be alright.

*** TTC ***

Harry couldn’t sleep. He had spent hours dozing off for a few minutes before being rudely woken up by one nightmare or another. His mind wouldn’t stop picturing what the books were going to tell or how someone or another would react or how much trouble they would be in if anyone found out half the things that could appear there.

When the sky finally began to become clearer, Harry decided that enough was enough and threw his covers off. He needed to get out now. Throwing on some school robes and slipping his feet in his sneakers, he tiptoed to the door and went out.

The corridors were completely empty at this hour. He could see Durmstrang’s ship and Beauxbatons’ carriage outside through the windows he walked past, with no hint of any student there awake either.

He was lost in his thoughts, not thinking about where he was going, when he found his feet leading him up to the owlery. He didn’t have any reason to change his course. He might as well see if Hedwig had rested after having hurried so much to deliver the letter to Sirius the day before.

The owlery was quiet, too, the silence only disturbed by the occasional soft hoot from an owl or the rustling of feathers. Looking up and searching for a minute, he found Hedwig perched on one of the rafts closest to the ceiling, her head tucked under a wing as she slept peacefully. Knowing how much Hedwig disliked having her sleep disturbed for no good reason, he decided to let her sleep and instead leant against the windowsill to look outside.

It was peaceful up there. He doubted that anyone would interrupt him at that ungodly hour and he could enjoy the view of Hogwarts’ terrains slowly being filled with light. He could see the Forbidden Forest from there, as well as Hagrid’s cabin. There wasn’t smoke coming out of the chimney yet so the gamekeeper was still asleep. The huge horses from Beauxbatons were sleep, too, if the way they were almost completely still was any indication.

Harry didn’t know how much time he spent up there. Maybe an hour or so, enough that he could now see clearly outside and some birds were beginning to fly over the treetops in the Forbidden Forest. However long it had been, it made Harry feel better.

He wasn’t even startled when a rustle of wings sounded behind him and familiar claws landed on his shoulder.

“Morning, Hedwig,” he muttered, not wanting to break the quiet. The owl hooted somewhat sleepily and nipped his ear fondly in greeting. “Yeah, I know I saw you just yesterday. I just needed a bit of quiet. Yesterday was a bit crazier than usual.”

Hedwig wriggled to get comfortable on his shoulder and hooted again, making Harry smile. They stayed quiet again, until Harry saw a student from Beauxbatons come out of the carriage. If the students were waking up already, it was time to go back to the tower and get ready for the day.

“I’ll see you soon, okay, girl?” Harry said, petting Hedwig fondly. “And I’ll bring some sweets with me, alright?”

The owl hooted her approval, nipping his finger gently and taking flight to go find some mice to hunt outside. Grinning as he watched her become a white speck over the Forbidden Forest, he turned around to go back.

The last thing he expected, though, was to collide with someone who was coming up the stairs, apparently just as lost in their own thoughts as he was.

“Whoa! Look out!” He exclaimed, grabbing their arm before they could fall backwards. It took a bit of awkward moving around until they could both find their balance again. “Are you okay?” He asked, releasing their arm.

Her arm. It was a girl about his height, maybe an inch shorter than him, with straggly, long, blond hair, like she had just got out of bed and hadn’t bothered to brush it —much like Harry himself. She was staring at him with grey eyes that seemed to stand out a lot on her face, giving her an odd appearance. It was especially enhanced by the necklace of butterbeer caps, the earrings made with orange radishes and the wand tucked behind her left ear.

Harry had always thought that nothing would baffle as much as some of Dumbledore’s most eccentric robes or the decorations for the final of the Quidditch Cup, but this girl was gaining a lot of points.

“I’m fine,” she smiled kindly. “Thank you very much for helping me. I do not think I would have liked to come up the stairs again.”

Harry blinked. “Uh… right. No, I s’ppose not,” he conceded.

She stared at him unblinkingly and tilted her head. “You’re Harry Potter,” she stated. It wasn’t anything Harry hadn’t heard a thousand times before when he met someone new, but this girl said it differently. There was no awe or disdain like it usually was accompanying his name. She was simply stating a fact, like ‘it’s a beautiful day, I’m wearing radishes on my ears and you’re Harry Potter’.

Harry blinked again, totally confused. “I am,” he said, wondering what he should do with that. “Who are you?” He blurted out without thinking.

The girl’s smile widened, not looking offended by his rudeness. “I’m Luna Lovegood.”

“Well, uh, it’s nice to meet you,” Harry fumbled. This girl was disconcerting to say the least. “I’m sorry I almost pushed you down the stairs. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Luna nodded thoughtfully. “No, I suppose you weren’t. You’re in quite a pickle, aren’t you? I don’t think I would have liked to have some books written about me.”

Harry deflated, shoulders falling. “It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting to happen yesterday,” he said, sounding upset.

Luna stared at him once more. “Although, I suppose that it has its perks after all,” she said.

“Does it?” Harry asked sceptically.

“They say hindsight is 20/20. These books will you that, won’t they?”

“I… s’ppose,” Harry had to agree since that was the only reason he wanted to read the books. That didn’t make it easier. “I don’t like what I’ll have to do to get that hindsight you’re talking about, though.”

“Us Ravenclaws know that knowledge sometimes comes with a price,” Luna nodded pensively.

“You’re a Ravenclaw?” Harry blurted out. For some reason, he hadn’t pictured this dreamy girl in the house of the people who pursued knowledge.

Luna nodded again. “It’s an interesting house, don’t you think? Although, I suppose you’d prefer Gryffindor.”

Harry grinned a bit. “Yeah, I do.”

There was a silence after that that began to stretch uncomfortably, at least for Harry. He was about to say goodbye to the odd girl and be on his way when Luna talked again.

“Knowledge is power, Harry Potter,” she said. “Sometimes too much power to leave it for anyone to take and use, but sometimes it’s not for us to decide who gets to take it or not.”

Harry stared at her confused. “What are you talking about? About the books?”

“You don’t want anyone to read them.”

“Of course not!” He exclaimed with a frown. “It’s my life they’re telling. It’s no one’s business but mine.”

“That may be, but perhaps you should give the writers of the letter a bit more credit,” she replied, not bothered by his outburst.

Harry settled down, even more confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think they know what they’re doing, don’t you?” She said calmly. “They could’ve sent you the letter and the books when you were alone instead of in the middle of the Great Hall with students from three different schools and officers from the Ministry present. But they didn’t, and they brought even more people.”

“So… you’re saying that they wanted me to read the books with everyone,” Harry stated more than asked. The worst thing was that Luna’s words made sense. And that was annoying because it meant that all the plans he had been half cooking in his brain the whole night to be able to read the books just with Ron and Hermione were for nothing.

“It certainly seems so, doesn’t it?” Luna hummed distractedly. “The letter did say that they would help a lot of people not make a few bad choices. These books are their second chance in a way, without having to do it wrong the first time.”

Harry thought about it. Could whoever had sent the letter really know what they were doing? He had believed they were crazy for having brought Sirius, but now his godfather may have a chance to clean his name. Reading the books with everyone seemed like an even worse idea, but maybe… maybe they were onto something. It wasn’t that farfetched to think that they knew something that he didn’t when they were from the future.

With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that his life was going to be the recurrent topic of conversation the following days. Why did these things had to happen to him?

“Thank you, Luna,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re quite welcome, Harry Potter,” she said, smiling kindly.

“You can call me Harry, you know,” he smiled, amused. “What are you doing up here so early anyway? I thought everyone would be asleep.”

“Oh, I was looking for my shoes,” she answered nonchalantly.

Harry blinked, caught of guard. His eyes traveled down until they found ten pale toes peeking out of Luna’s school robes. “You’ve lost your shoes?” He asked. He looked up at her confused. “Wait. Why would your shoes be in the owlery?”

“Someone has taken them. People take my things sometimes and they hide them. My shoes were up here last time so I thought that maybe they would be here again,” Luna explained, seemingly unbothered by it.

Harry’s jaw dropped. He was no stranger to bullies, he had often been the target at one point or another, especially before coming to Hogwarts. They had bothered him, sure, but their mere mention had never sent the surge of fury that ran through him when Luna said people were bothering her. How could they bully this girl? Well, he could see why she was a target, with her odd appearance and even odder personality, but still. How dare they bully Luna? The short time he had talked with her, she had been nothing but sweet and kind with him and had helped him set his head straight.

“Who does that to you?” He asked angry.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Just people,” she said. “Maybe it was the nargles, though. They like to hide things sometimes. That’s why I’ve begun to wear this,” she said, tugging at her necklace of butterbeer caps. “To keep them away.”

“Nargles?” Harry repeated confused. He was beginning to wonder if this was the common feeling people had around this girl. “What are nargles?”

“Oh, they’re little creatures that like to steal people’s things and they return them much later, but I kind of need my shoes now, so I was looking for them,” she said happily.

Deciding to push the nargles to the back of his mind for the moment, Harry went back to the main problem. “And you think they’re in the owlery?” He asked sceptically.

“Maybe. Both people and nargles find it funny for some reason.”

Looking at Luna’s bare feet and remembering how the floor of the owlery was usually dropping-strewn, Harry could only think that it was more cruel than funny. It wasn’t funny at all. And if those nargles, whatever they were, agreed with bullies, perhaps Harry was going to have to start wearing butterbeer caps around his neck to keep them away, too.

“I’ve just been there, but I haven’t seen any shoes, Luna,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “I’m gonna take another look just in case, alright? Just, don’t enter the owlery until we find you some shoes, okay?”

Luna smiled. “That’s very chivalrous of you, Harry. Thank you,” she said as he walked back inside.

He searched the entire room, making sure he didn’t miss anything, but Luna’s shoes weren’t there.

“I can’t find them, Luna. I’m sorry,” he apologized with a frown as he returned. He knew it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She didn’t deserve this.

The girl frowned for an instance before smiling again. “That’s alright, Harry,” she said. “I’ll look for them later, after we finish reading for today.”

Harry clenched his jaw. It was the first day of November and, while the inside the castle wasn’t as cold as the outside, it was still a castle made of stone in Scotland. Luna’s bare feet had to be frozen and she was going to get sick at this rate.

“C’mon,” he decided on the spot, grabbing her hand and leading her in the opposite direction. “We’re gonna find you some shoes until we can find yours.”

“Oh,” she seemed surprised at this. “That’s very kind of you, but not really necessary.”

“I know,” Harry said, gritting his teeth. “I still want to do it.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said, linking her arm through his and walking beside him with a skip in her steps.

Harry grinned amused and walked her to the Gryffindor tower.

“Morning,” he greeted the Fat Lady when they reached the portrait. “Balderdash.”

“Morning,” she yawned. “And good morning to you, too, dear,” she added, smiling at Luna.

“Good morning, ma’am,” the girl smiled pleasantly as the portrait turned on its hinges.

“Harry!” A voice greeted them when they entered. Hermione was in the common room with a crossed expression on her face. “Where were you?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. “Where’s Ron? Still sleeping?”

“No. He’s just gone up for the map to look for you,” she explained.

“Hermione!” The redhead’s voice came down the stairs. “It makes no sense! It says he’s…” He trailed off as he entered and his eyes fell on his best friend. “Here,” he finished with a deadpanned voice.

“Morning,” Harry grinned wryly.

Ron scowled at him. “Couldn’t you have left a note before you disappeared?”

“I didn’t know you would wake up before I came back,” Harry said defensively. “I just bumped into Luna here and-”

“Luna? Who’s Luna?” Ron asked bewildered.

“I’m Luna. Luna Lovegood,” the girl waved her hand happily.

“And these and Ron and Hermione,” Harry introduced them quickly.

“Uh, alright,” Ron said slowly. His eyes went from the radish earrings to the butterbeer caps to the wand behind her ear to the crest on her chest. He frowned. “Harry, why have you brought a Ravenclaw to the tower?”

“She needs shoes,” Harry stated firmly.

Ron and Hermione’s eyes went to the are toes that were visibly wriggling under the school robes.

“O-kay,” the boy said slowly. Maybe he was missing something here. “Why doesn’t she have shoes? Why does she have to come here to get a pair?”

“The nargles took them. Or maybe some people,” Luna said distractedly as she looked around with a curious expression. “You have a beautiful common room. I like it,” she declared.

Ron blinked and looked at Harry, who only shrugged. He returned his gaze to the blond girl. “Thanks?” He said hesitantly.

“You say that people took your shoes?” Hermione asked with a heavy frown.

Luna hummed, still looking around. “Maybe. I still think it could have been the nargles. I’m positive they’re the ones who have taken my favourite t-shirt too.”

Hermione opened her mouth to ask what nargles were. She had never heard of something like that. But Harry interrupted her.

“Hermione, can you do something about the shoes?” He pleaded with her. He had no idea where to get a pair of shoes that Luna would be able to use since the only other pair of shoes he had were the sneakers the Dursleys had given him about six years prior and that were falling to pieces. But if anyone could find another pair of shoes, it would be Hermione.

His best friend stared at him for a second. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she went to her dormitory. She came back a minute later with a pair of white sneakers and white socks. “Here. You can use mine until we can find yours. These are starting to be a bit too tight for me so I think they’ll fit you.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” she smiled, taking them and putting them on. “They fit quite nicely.”

“You’re welcome,” Hermione said, smiling politely.

“Where are the others?” Harry asked.

“Ginny and the twins have gone to breakfast already. I s’ppose the others will too,” Ron shrugged, his eyes wandering back to the blond girl who was humming under her breath. What was with her?

“We should get going,” Harry sighed. “Just let me grab the first book.”

He darted upstairs and opened his trunk, where he had put the books the night before. His eyes were drawn towards the letter. He knew that handwriting from somewhere, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was like it had changed a lot since whatever he remembered it from. He hoped that whoever it belonged to knew what they were doing and that Luna was right when she said that the books were meant to be read by everyone.

When he looked at the books again, wondering how he was going to know which one was the first one since they had mixed them up the night before, he almost gasped in surprise. There, on the front cover of the thinnest one, the dark Gryffindor red one, golden-coloured words had appeared where it had been blurry the night before.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.

Well, that took care of the problem. There was no doubt what year that book talked about. He grabbed it and closed his trunk again before going back downstairs. The sight that greeted him almost made him laugh. Luna was still humming, swinging back and forth on the balls of her feet, while Ron stared at her baffled and amused and Hermione was frowning in confusion.

“Ready?” The brunette asked when she saw him.

“Ready,” Harry nodded. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.”

Ron and Hermione stared at his back stunned. “Waiting?” They repeated as they hurried to catch up.

“You’ve changed your mind? You’re gonna let them read the books with us?” Ron asked. He wasn’t sure whether he agreed with this or not. The others would certainly be happier and they would stop pester them about the books, but Harry, Hermione and he were going to get into a lot of trouble.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded simply, sending a brief look at the blond walking next to them. It didn’t go unnoticed by his two best friends.

“She convinced you?” Hermione asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. “You convinced him?” She asked the girl, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“I merely said that whoever sent the books must have had a reason to give them to him in front of everybody instead of doing it when they knew that he would be alone,” the blond shrugged calmly.

“You say that they wanted everyone to know what we’ve been up to?” Ron asked sceptically.

“It makes sense,” Hermione said grudgingly. “If they’re powerful enough to put Hogwarts in a time bubble, make these books and bring people to the castle in spite of the wards, they could’ve given Harry the books whenever. They wanted people to know about them, and probably read them, too.”

“But why?” Ron asked frustrated.

“Second chances,” Harry answered.

“What?”

“To give people second chances without them having to fuck up the first ones,” the boy said, repeating Luna’s words. More or less.

“And you have to pay the price so that these people have a second chance?” Ron snarled, not happy at all.

Harry faltered, but then he strengthened his resolve. “Maybe it will be worth it.”

“And maybe not,” his best friend snapped. It was going to be difficult enough to read these books without everyone witnessing it and wanting to add their opinions.

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged. “But I think I’m gonna trust whoever sent the letter. Sirius is getting a chance to be free because of them.”

That made Ron falter in return. “Mate, that’s some messed up logic…”

“The whole situation is messed up, Ron,” Harry pointed out. There was nothing normal about this, and, taking into account how lousy his definition of normal was, that was saying something.

“I don’t like it, Harry,” Hermione said, pursing her lips.

Harry hesitated. “Me neither. But I have an idea so that we at least don’t get into trouble, okay?”

“What idea?” The girl asked warily. Harry’s ideas tended to be a bit… drastic.

“A good one. You’ll see,” he promised as they entered the Great Hall.

It was brimming with students. It seemed like everyone had got up early at the prospect of possibly finding out what Harry Potter and his two best friends had done the last three years and what they would be doing in the future. Most heads turned towards them when they entered, even from those wearing blue or red robes, but they did their best to ignore it.

“See you later, Harry. Thank you for the shoes, Hermione. It was nice to meet you, Ron,” Luna said dreamily as she skipped towards the Ravenclaw table.

Ron grinned amused. “She’s weird, but I think I like her.”

“C’mon,” Harry said, having located the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus. It wasn’t difficult to find the mass of redheads between all the students.

Heads turned as they walked towards the Gryffindor table. Harry could practically feel the hundreds of eyes glued to the book in his hands, but he took care to keep the front cover with the title hidden. He had already checked and the pages were still blank while the covers were still the same plain Gryffindor red.

“Good morning,” he said as they took a seat. There were three free places, like they had been saved for the three of them. It wouldn’t have surprised him.

There were several greetings in return, but every eye was fixed on the red book on his lap with the cover down.

“Harry…” Sirius began hesitantly. He wanted to ask him if he had changed his mind, or make up his mind or whatever. He needed to know if Harry was going to let them join the reading.

“Can you pass me the jelly, Sirius?” Harry interrupted as he grabbed some toast.

The animagus sighed, handing him the bottle and shutting up about the book. He could take a hint from time to time.

Breakfast was an awkward affair, full of whispers and forced conversations. People kept shooting glances at Harry’s plate to see if it was already empty. It was enough to make the boy consider eating more than usual just to annoy everyone and delay the reading, but even he wasn’t that cruel. And he may be a bit influenced by the fact that the night before he had been just as impatient as them as he waited for Dumbledore to finish his dinner. Perhaps if the headmaster had finished earlier, they wouldn’t be in this conundrum.

As soon as Harry laid his empty cup of pumpkin juice on the table and he didn’t reach for anything else, Dumbledore stood up. It seemed like even the professors and the Ministry officers had been waiting for him to finish. He was surprised that nobody had tried to make him hurry.

“Good morning, everyone,” the old headmaster said pleasantly. “First of all, I would like to introduce the newcomers that appeared yesterday. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks-”

“Just Tonks,” the pink-haired witch said with a hint of a growl as she stood up next to the tall black wizard.

“Who are aurors from the Ministry,” Dumbledore continued like he hadn’t been interrupted. “Arthur Weasley, who works in the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, and his wife Molly Weasley. Their sons William Weasley, who works for Gringotts breaking curses; Charles Weasley, who works with dragons in Rumania; and Percival Weasley, who works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Dumbledore tactfully didn’t mention how his boss was the same man they had found controlled under the Imperius Curse the day before. The poor boy was already beating himself up about it enough without adding more fuel to the fire.

“Many of you may remember Remus Lupin, who was the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts last year here at Hogwarts-” Dumbledore was interrupted once more, this time by many students who cheered for their ex-professor.

Remus blushed at the reaction, an embarrassed but pleased grin splitting his face in two. He would have never imagined that almost none of the students cared about his furry little problem.

“Who knew that Professor Moony would be so popular one day?” Sirius teased him, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Sirius Black, which I’m sure all or most of you heard about last year,” Dumbledore continued when the noise decreased. “If the letter was right, we will all be learning the truth about him and his past in one of the books.”

Harry clenched his jaw. He hated how Dumbledore was already taking for granted that they were going to read the books. What about his opinion? Didn’t it count for anything? Whether it did or not for Dumbledore, the headmaster was going to hear it and he was going to respect it.

“And finally, Alastor Moody, the real one this time,” the old man finished.

The ex-auror was sitting not far from Dumbledore. He was thinner than the imposter had been, which came to reason when they remembered that he had spent a few months prisoner, and he was missing a few chunks of hair, probably used for the Polyjuice Potion. He was scowling at everybody around him and he had one hand buried inside the pocket of his jacket. They didn’t need to belong to Ravenclaw to know that he had a death grip on his wand. If the man had been paranoid before, everyone immediately decided that it would be suicide to try to catch him off guard now.

“Poor man,” Hermione muttered under her breath.

“And poor us,” Ron moaned. “He’s gonna be a nightmare as a teacher if he stays when the classes begin again.”

“I’m certainly not gonna approach him from behind,” Harry declared. He didn’t want to receive a nasty curse to the gut just because the man hadn’t seen him coming or hadn’t heard him.

“Now that the introductions are out of the way, we will begin reading the books-” Dumbledore said happily, clapping his hands like he was ecstatic with what they were going to do.

“No,” Harry interrupted firmly, making everyone turn to look at him.

The headmaster’s smile faltered. “No?”

“No,” the boy repeated. “My life, my decisions. It’s that simple, Professor. And, quite frankly, I don’t want anyone to read it-”

“Preposterous!” Karkaroff interrupted, hitting the table with his fist. “Boy, this isn’t something you have a say in.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the challenge. “Isn’t it? I believe the letter said that you need my approval to read the books.”

“Dumbly-dorr, are you going to tolerate this kind of defiance?” Madame Maxime asked disapprovingly.

“Mr. Potter has always had a few… privileges that allow him to get out of line more often than any other student,” Snape sneered.

“Except that this isn’t a normal situation, Severus,” McGonagall came to his defense. “I’m not sure we can even consider it part of the school activities.”

“‘e should still respect ‘is ‘eadmaster,” Madame Maxime huffed.

“I do respect Professor Dumbledore,” Harry intervened again. “I just don’t like how you all assume you’re gonna be present for the reading.”

This was followed by an instant of stillness before the Great Hall erupted into chaos. The Gryffindors had already heard this the night before in the common room, but the rest of the school was shocked and indignant. In the end, Dumbledore had to shoot fireworks with his wand to calm everyone down.

“Mr. Potter,” he said when it was quiet again. “I’m sure you know that this is a matter of utter importance in which we should be present, at least the school staff and the Ministry officers.”

That caused all the students to begin protesting again. What did he mean by that? That they couldn’t be present? No way. This was their opportunity to learn what had been going on in Hogwarts with Harry and his two friends.

When Dumbledore managed to quiet everyone again, he continued. “You can’t possibly want to keep that information secret, Mr. Potter.”

“As a matter of fact, that was the initial plan,” Harry admitted, ignoring all the complains. “I planned to hide with Ron and Hermione until we finished the books and we would then share the important information with everyone. I’m sure we would’ve managed to hide and evade everybody for long enough.”

And they would have. They knew the school pretty well and they had the invisibility cloak and the Maraders’ map. It would have been quite difficult for anyone to catch them.

“However,” he continued, rising his voice to be heard above the noise growing in volume. Everyone quietened in an instant. “Someone pointed out to me that if the books were sent to me in front of the three schools and several Ministry workers and they even brought more people, it was probably because they wanted those people to listen.”

Many people looked at Ron and Hermione, especially the latter. If anyone was capable of making the stubborn Gryffindor change his mind, it could only be them. No one seemed to remember the blond Ravenclaw that had arrived at the same time as them.

“That’s good,” Dumbledore smiled satisfied. “Then we can proceed with the reading…”

“Not yet, Professor. I’m sorry,” Harry cut him off again. He wished they would stop getting ahead of themselves so that he wouldn’t have to keep interrupting the headmaster. It was awkward doing that and he was beginning to feel quite rude.

“Dumbledore!” Karkaroff exclaimed outraged at that blatant lack of respect.

Harry ignored him. “I have one condition first,” he said. “No one will have to face any kind of consequences for anything we read in the books. They were sent to help and fix mistakes, not to punish for past or future actions.”

“You’ve done something big that will get you into trouble, haven’t you, Potter?” Snape smirked triumphantly. He could still get that brat expelled.

“Maybe,” Harry answered. “You’ll have to read the books to find out and none of you will find out unless you swear there won’t be consequences for anyone here.”

“You insolent brat, you can’t blackmail us like that,” the head of Slytherin glared furious.

Harry glared back, not intimidated at all. “It’s not blackmail, Professor,” he said. It took all his self-control to call him that, but he knew that he couldn’t push it even more than he was already doing it. “It’s called setting a few limits so that these bloody books can’t be used against me and who I care about. It’s my life and I’m not gonna enjoy having it in the open for everyone to comment on it. The last thing I want is to have to face punishments or expulsions for things I had to do for one reason or another. And they were always good reasons.”

“Dumbly-dorr, you can’t possibly agree wiz zis,” Madame Maxime said incensed. If a student had done something bad enough to deserve an expulsion, he had to get it no matter how the infraction had come to light.

Dumbledore was staring at Harry pensively. He knew that look of pure stubbornness on his student. He knew that Harry wouldn’t give in on this. He had known that he would have to fight Harry to manage to be allowed to read the books and the teenager had already agreed to that. He wasn’t going to give in on anything else.

“Very well,” he agreed, silencing every single person that was making his opinion known.

“What?” Snape hissed furious.

“It’s a reasonable request,” the headmaster replied. “This is a unique occurrence and it wouldn’t be fair to use it to punish anyone when its purpose was the complete opposite, to give second chances.” He looked around with his eyebrows raised. “Besides, can anyone here be totally sure that there will be nothing… compromising about them in these books?”

No one spoke up. Truthfully, no one was sure about what they were going to find out. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that Harry found out secrets almost on accident and that he was usually in the thick of things. They didn’t want to risk something bad being about them.

“I guess we agree then,” Dumbledore smiled after a minute when no one said anything. He returned his gaze to Harry. “Something else, Mr. Potter?”

“Just that we stop the reading if I, or anyone else, need a break,” the boy said after thinking for a moment.

“Of course,” the headmaster nodded. That was just common sense. “Now, please, if everyone could draw their wands and repeat after me to make the oath. Remember that anyone who doesn’t make it won’t be able to listen and will forget everything.”

There was a rustle of robes as everybody hurried to draw their wands. Nobody wanted to miss this, even if they weren’t happy about having to make an oath.

“Wait! I don’t have a wand!” Sirius called panicked. If he didn’t have a wand, he wouldn’t be able to make the oath. And if he wasn’t able to make the oath, he wouldn’t be able to find out what his godson had been up to.

“Here,” Harry said, pulling out his own to lend it to him. “You can use mine to make the oath.”

The animated relaxed, taking the wand gingerly and examining it carefully. It was a good wand, a very good one. “Thanks, Harry,” he said relieved.

“Alright, everyone. Repeat after me, just changing my name with yours,” Dumbledore called them to attention. “I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear on my magic that I won’t reveal the existence of the books connected to one Harry James Potter or their contents to anyone who isn’t already aware of this knowledge.”

There was a cacophony of voices as everyone repeated the oath, word by word, and everybody slowly fell silent again. They were fidgeting nervously because it was the first magical oath for many of them. Those who hadn’t known what it was had learnt the night before the consequences of breaking one and they hadn’t liked them. None of them wanted to lose their magic and risk their life in the process.

“I think this will suffice, won’t it, Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore asked, looking at his student. He smiled pleased when he received a nod in response. “Wonderful. Then, if you could be so kind as to bring that book you’re holding here so we can begin reading.”

Harry sighed and stood up to hand the book to his headmaster. “I’ll bring the next one when we finish this one. Is that okay with you, Professor?” He asked. He would really feel better if he knew that the books were safe and nobody would steal them and begin reading on their own, which would not be fun for him.

Dumbledore nodded. “If you feel more comfortable that way, Mr. Potter,” he replied, guessing where his thoughts were going.

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry nodded in relief before going back to his seat.

“Everyone, if you could please stand up for a moment,” Dumbledore asked, looking at his colleagues and the aurors to include them in this request.

Everyone obeyed with a wide range of reactions, from curiosity to annoyance to impatience. However, there were only happy exclamations when the tables and hard benches were substituted with comfortable couches, armchairs and puffs of different colours.

“That’s much better,” the old headmaster said satisfied as he took a seat in a maroon armchair with a tall back rest. He watched amused as the students hurried to take places next to their friends and pushed the couches together.

“Hey, Charlie,” the pink-haired witch said as she walked over to the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and the two Marauders. “Mind if I join you? If I stay with Kingsley and the others a minute longer, I’m gonna go nuts.”

Charlie chuckled and pushed Bill, whom he was sharing a couch with, so he would scoot over. “You just missed me. C’mon, admit it,” he teased her. They had been on the same year in Hogwarts, but they hadn’t talked much since they had graduated.

The metamorphmagus snorted. “Those dragons sure have given you more than a bump to the head if you believe that.”

Charlie grinned. “Ouch,” he mock-gasped, raising a hand to his chest. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you haven’t missed me.”

Tonks grinned at him, not giving him an answer.

“Just put him out of his misery,” Bill groaned. “He won’t shut up otherwise.”

“You know each other?” Ginny asked. She had chosen an armchair where she was curled with her feet under her.

“We were friends at Hogwarts,” Charlie grinned. “You probably don’t remember her. I’m not sure you even met her.”

“I’m unforgettable, Charles Weasley,” Tonks huffed, her hair changing to deep purple and her nose turning into a pig snout.

Ginny gasped. “I remember you!”

Tonks grinned and returned to her previous appearance. “Course you do,” she said, smirking at Charlie. “See? Unforgettable.”

“How did you do that?” Harry asked wide-eyed.

The witch smirked at him. “I’m a metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will. Useful for an auror.”

“Can anyone learn to do that?” He asked eagerly.

“It’s an ability that’s inherited, Harry,” Hermione explained, knowing what he was thinking. Sometimes Harry just wanted to disappear and stop being stared at, to simply blend with the crowd so they would leave him alone. It had become less bothersome over the years, but it was still annoying.

Harry deflated disappointed. “Oh.”

“Sorry, Harry,” Tonks shrugged. “She’s right.”

Slowly, every student found a seat they were pleased with and they turned to look at Dumbledore. It was then that he made a mistake.

“Who wants to start reading?” He asked.

A cacophony of voices exploded, hands rose in the air, students stood up on their seats to try to be seen better, arguments began, a few children ended up sprawled on the floor when they were pushed accidentally or not so accidentally.

“Enough!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed in the Great Hall, silencing every discussion instantly. “This won’t do at all,” he sighed. He was going to say that it would better if only the adults read since they couldn’t agree on anything, but a high-pitched voice caught his attention.

“If I may, Albus,” Flitwick said, holding out his hand to take the book. “I know a spell that would be perfect for this occasion.”

“Thank you, Filius,” Dumbledore sighed gratefully, handing over the book. It would certainly make things easier if they didn’t have to argue about who read what.

The tiny professor waved his wand over the book, which rose into the air until it was floating about a foot above everybody’s head.

“There,” he said satisfied. “It’s a spell that I’ve used on many an occasion when I wanted to read a book while I did something else. Now the book will read itself aloud and, like a person would if interrupted, it will stop if someone talks.”

Hermione gasped. “That’s brilliant!” She gushed, itching to go ask the professor of Charms how to do that spell. It would be incredibly useful and she could see that she wasn’t the only one interested in learning how to do it.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Mad, that’s what she is,” he murmured under his breath so that only Harry, who was sitting between them on the couch, would hear him.

Harry smirked. He knew that the spell could come in handy, but he had to agree with Ron that Hermione seemed a little too excited about it.

“Is everyone ready?” Dumbledore asked.

“Wait!” A blonde girl from Beauxbatons exclaimed. She was the veela girl that had come for the bouillabaisse to the Gryffindor table. “’ow do we know zat is ze first book? You said yesterday zey were blank.”

“Très bien, Ms. Delacour,” Madame Maxime smiled approvingly. She looked back at Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow. “Et bien, Dumbly-dorr?”

“Excuse me, Madame Maxime,” Harry intervened. “I’m the one who knew that was the first one. It was the only one with the title complete this morning and, well, I’ve lived through it and the title says it all.”

“And what is zat title?” The headmistress asked.

“Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,” Harry answered. Murmurs broke out across Great Hall. “I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but it will when we’re further along in the story.”

“Very well,” Madame Maxime nodded.

“Then, let’s begin,” Dumbledore said satisfied. “Filius, please,” he said nodding towards the book.

The tiny professor happily waved his wand at the book and it opened on the first page.

Chapter Text

Time to take a chance

The vanishing glass

“Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,” Harry answered. Murmurs broke out across Great Hall. “I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but it will when we’re further along in the story.”

“Very well,” Madame Maxime nodded.

“Then, let’s begin,” Dumbledore said satisfied. “Filius, please,” he said nodding towards the book.

The tiny professor happily waved his wand at the book and it opened on the first page.

The vanishing glass

“Vanishing glass? Are we sure that this is the book from Harry’s first year?” Percy asked with a frown. “Vanishing Spells aren’t taught until fifth year.”

They looked at the boy in search for answers, but the sight that greeted them was unexpected.

“He’s asleep?” Bill blurted out baffled as he stared at the boy who was leaning against his stunned little brother and breathing deeply in sleep. “He was awake and talking literally ten seconds ago!”

“How can he sleep now?” Lavander asked, somewhat annoyed. “I mean, it’s one thing to fall asleep in class, but he said himself that these books are important and…”

“Don’t be daft, Lavander. The letter warned us about this,” Hermione snapped, unconsciously pressing closer to Harry protectively. She knew that Harry rarely allowed himself to be asleep in front of others because he felt like he was leaving himself vulnerable.

“Whatever happens to him in the book happens to him here,” Remus realised with wide eyes.

“Including sleep?” Ginny asked perplexed. It was weird to see Harry like this. He looked… younger, or more like his age. He didn’t look like the hero he usually resembled.

“Apparently,” Remus nodded, staring at the slumbering boy. He looked so much like a young James with his green eyes closed.

“Maybe we can wake him up?” Dean suggested tentatively. Reading books about Harry while Harry was asleep was… odd.

The twins grinned and shot to their feet immediately.

“We can take care of that,” George said.

“It’ll be our real pleasure,” Fred nodded, pulling his wand out. Before anyone could stop him, he began to shoot fireworks, only to frown when Harry didn’t even stir. “That didn’t work out like it was supposed to,” he huffed disgruntled.

“This will do the trick,” George said with a mischievous smile. He had moved behind the couch Harry, Ron and Hermione were sharing while everyone was distracted with his twin’s fireworks. He put a horn right next to Harry’s ear and blew it hard.

Everybody jumped at the loud noise, especially Ron and Hermione, but Harry just mumbled something unintelligible and turned his face a little to hide it against Ron’s arm.

“Stop that!” Ron snapped, snatching the horn out of his hand, trying not to dislodge his best friend even more. He glared at his brother furiously. “What’s wrong with you?!”

George rolled his eyes and took a step back with his hands raised defensively. “Relax, Ronnikins. We’re just trying to wake him up.”

“Well, it’s not gonna work like that,” their little brother snapped annoyed.

“We know,” Fred said gleefully. “It’d be the perfect time to prank Harry.”

“We can rarely catch him asleep and he always wakes up at the slightest noise,” George said, sharing a look with his twin that didn’t promise anything good.

“You’re not pranking Harry when he’s like this!” Ron shouted at them, his ears red with fury.

George raised an eyebrow. “Of course not.”

“Who do you think we are?” Fred asked. “We’re not dicks, you know.”

Harry was like a little brother to them, the eighth Weasley kid, and, while they were all for pranking their siblings, they wouldn’t even think about doing it in this situation. It just wasn’t fair.

“We mean it, Fred, George,” Hermione warned them seriously. She would not tolerate jokes about this.

“We know,” George rolled his eyes.

“Jeez, that’s the opinion you have of us?” Fred asked offended as they went back to their seats.

“To be fair,” Angelina chipped in from a bit further away. “You can sometimes get carried away.”

“We’d never use this spell against Harry, Angie,” Fred said, sending her a betrayed look.

“We’d never stoop that low,” George huffed annoyed.

There was an awkward pause before Percy broke it. “Nobody’s answered my question. Vanishing Spells are taught in fifth year. Are we sure this is the book about Harry’s first year?”

“Yes, Percy,” Hermione cut in before Ron could snap at his brother. The redhead’s patience was even thinner than usual with his best friend asleep and vulnerable. “I don’t know what Vanishing Spells have to do with this, but I have no doubt that this book is about our first year.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” Percy let it go reluctantly.

“Now, can we keep reading till we get to the part where Harry wakes up?” Ron demanded. As much as he knew that Harry needed his sleep since he had spent most of the night turning and tossing in bed, he knew that his best friend would loath to be asleep in front of the Great Hall.

Nearly ten … the front step,

“Who are the Dursleys?” Dean asked.

“Harry’s relatives,” Ron spat. He refused to call them Harry’s family. They didn’t deserve that title.

“They’re his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley,” Hermione explained briefly, but her face didn’t show any kindness or patience.

“Petunia?” Remus repeated, perking up at the familiar name. “Lily’s sister?”

“Harry’s living with Lily’s sister?” Sirius asked horrified. “That bitch hated her!”

“Mr. Black!” Molly screeched angrily. “I will not tolerate that kind of language around my kids! And you can’t judge Harry’s family without having met them. I agree that they aren’t the friendliest people, but…”

“You’ve met them?” The animagus asked, latching onto that.

“Just briefly,” the woman huffed. “Not enough to have a proper conversation.”

“You aren’t missing anything, mum,” George assured her darkly. Ever since they had seen first hand the conditions Harry lived in when they had gone to rescue him in the Ford Anglia, they had wanted to pay those muggles with their own medicine. They had done that a bit that summer by giving those sweets to Dudley, but it wasn’t enough in their opinion.

“They aren’t the nicest bunch there is,” Fred scoffed at his own understatement.

“Hold on a second,” Bill said, raising a hand to stop them with an alarmed expression. “The book says they found their nephew on their doorstep.”

There was an awkward pause as the words sunk in and the anger grew.

“I don’t suppose they have another nephew, do they?” Charlie asked, eyeing his parents warily. He wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of the stinking eye his mother was going to give whoever was responsible for leaving Harry on a doorstep.

“No,” Ron growled.

“Why was he on their doorstep?!” Molly shrieked, her control breaking.

“Hagrid!” Sirius roared outraged. “I gave Harry to you! I trusted him into your care! What the hell happened?!”

Hagrid cowered at the fury on the animagus’ face. “I, uh… I took him to Dumbledore and…”

“Dumbledore!” Sirius roared again, going after the next culprit. He was going to continue this way till he found out why his godson had spent the night on a doorstep.

“I left him there, Sirius,” the headmaster said resolutely.

“Why would you do that?” Molly asked horrified.

“It was imperative for Mr. Potter to go live with his relatives as soon as possible,” he explained soothingly.

It did nothing to calm them down.

“Albus, would it have been such a problem to knock on the door and talk to them instead?” Arthur frowned disapprovingly. He didn’t like to think about the boy who had spent many weeks in his family’s care sleeping on the street.

“We did what we had to do, Arthur. Don’t worry. Harry was safe,” the old man assured him.

“‘We’?” Remus repeated. “Who’s ‘we’? Just Hagrid and you?”

“I was there that night, too, Remus,” McGonagall said, metaphorically stepping forward to take her part of the blame.

That night she had been too distraught, she had only been able to think about James and Lily and how she wasn’t going to see Harry for another ten years. She hadn’t been able to bear looking at the child anymore and she had fled as soon as possible to go mourn in peace. She hadn’t really thought about what they had done that night. Now, though, now it sickened her.

“You were?” Remus said incredulous. Their head of house had left Harry on a doorstep?

“Minnie?” Sirius said without thinking.

Despite her current beliefs about the man, the thick betrayal in his voice was enough to make her wince. She didn’t even find it in herself to scold him about the nickname James and he had given her years before.

“I can only say that I wasn’t myself that night,” she said. She looked at her student, who was slumbering oblivious to the world around him. Her remorse was shining through clearly and she knew that she would have to apologise to him when he was awake to hear it.

but Privet … about the owls.

“Reports about owls?” Seamus asked perplexed. “Muggles have reports about owls? I thought they didn’t use them to send their letters.”

“They don’t, Mr. Finnigan,” McGonagall said with pursed lips. Even after so long, she still believed that they had been foolish to risk the exposure to muggles so much. “People were so excited about You-Know-Who’s disappearance that they grew reckless. Obliviators had their hands full for days afterwards.”

“It was a big day, Minerva,” Flitwick said. “The news about You-Know-Who’s demise rocked the wizarding world in a way that few things ever have.”

“I remember that day. Everyone was a bit crazy,” Charlie said. He had been just eight, but he remembered perfectly how their house had seemed to breathe a little easier after that day.

“We don’t. Not much,” Fred said with a frown. They had flashes of a day when their mother hadn’t seemed able to stay angry with them in spite of the prank they had pulled. She had laughed and cried and attempted to scold them unsuccessfully. It had unnerved them enough that they hadn’t caused more trouble that day.

“Wish we could remember it better, though,” George said, thinking about the mayhem they could have got away with.

Only the … the house, too.

Remus frowned. “Are you sure that he lives with his aunt and uncle?” He asked Ron and Hermione, who seemed to know him best. “Maybe he didn’t go to live with them permanently until much later?” He suggested. Perhaps something had happened. Perhaps Harry had not spent with them as much time as they thought, visiting only on holidays and from time to time.

“He does,” Ron replied, not looking at him.

Hermione, the twins and he were beginning to look positively murderous while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were frowning slightly. They knew that Harry’s family was wary of magic, that they didn’t trust it nor did they want their nephew to have anything to do with it. They also knew that they weren’t particularly fond of Harry, something that irked Mrs. Weasley greatly from time to time. But they didn’t know how far the neglect went.

Yet … Get up! Now!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold your hippogriffs,” Charlie interrupted wide-eyed. “What was that?”

“That… I don’t know,” Flitwick said shocked. “That’s never happened before.”

“You’ve never used this spell on books like these,” Dumbledore pointed out. “They’re connected to Harry.”

“So, what? This is how Harry’s aunt sounds?” Charlie asked with a faint grimace.

“I believe that’s the case, Mr. Weasley,” the headmaster nodded.

Seamus made a face and looked at his sleeping housemate. “Now I feel sorry for him. I’ve just heard a single sentence from his aunt and my ears are ringing. I’d wake up in a bad mood if that woke me up everyday.”

Dean rolled his eyes and elbowed him. “Don’t be dramatic, Seamus.”

“I’m not,” the boy defended himself, sulking. “It’s annoying.”

“I wonder how we’ll sound,” Hermione mused, sending his best friend a pensive glance. “Although, I suppose I’m more eager to see the first impression he had of us.”

Many people fidgeted nervously. That was true. They weren’t just going to read Harry’s thoughts, they were going to read his opinion about them.

Harry woke with a start.

The boy almost leapt to his feet, startled beyond belief. He only stayed on the couch because Ron and Hermione grabbed his robes and pulled him back down before he could rise more than an inch.

“Easy, mate,” Ron said as he saw Harry blink sleep out of his eyes. It took only a couple of seconds. It had always amazed him how his best friend could go from dead to the world to up and alert in a few seconds, but now that they had read how he was usually woken up, it didn’t surprise him anymore.

Harry looked around him, founding a lot of faces staring at him with either curiosity or a bit of concern or some amusement. He went beat red in two seconds flat.

“I fell asleep?” He asked mortified.

“It was the book,” Hermione said, trying to erase some of the embarrassment.

Harry groaned and hid his face in his hands. That meant that it was going to happen again and he was going to be powerless to stop it.

“What happened? What have you read?” He asked warily.

“Not much,” Ron shrugged. “You haven’t missed anything. You were only asleep for a few minutes.”

“We’ve learnt that Dumbledore and McGonagall left you on the doorstep for your uncle and your aunt to find,” Sirius said, scowling at the two adults. He didn’t know if he could forgive them for that.

Harry blinked in surprise. “They were the ones who did that?” He asked nonchalantly.

“You know they found you on the doorstep?” Sirius asked stunned.

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged. Aunt Petunia always reminded him when she told him that they hadn’t asked to be saddled with him.

“And it doesn’t bother you?” His godfather demanded. He couldn’t believe it.

Harry stared at him surprised and shrugged again. “Why would it? I don’t even remember it and it’s not like I would’ve known if they hadn’t told me so it didn’t affect me.”

For some reason, that only upset the animagus even more. How could his godson not care?

His aunt … again.

“This is amazing,” Bill said impressed. “We can even hear her hitting the door like an echo behind the narrator’s voice.”

“It’s more like the background noise on a phone call than a book,” Harry said alarmed. “What’s going on? Why are we hearing that?”

“Professor Flitwick’s spell worked a little differently than expected,” Hermione explained. “We can hear the characters’ voices.”

“They aren’t characters,” Ron pointed out with a frown. “Or we aren’t characters. We’re real people.”

“They are characters, Ron,” she replied, a hint of impatience in her voice. “They, or we, are just real instead of fictional, but characters of the books all the same.”

“Either way,” Arthur intervened. That summer he had got his first real look at what Ron and Hermione’s arguments were like and he had learnt that they could keep going for hours. He had a new respect for Harry for putting up with that the whole year and not hex them into silence. “It’s fascinating. Just like a cone fall, like Harry said.”

“It’s a phone call, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione corrected gently, hiding an amused smile. You would think that after Harry and she had explained the Weasleys how to use the telephone, they would know how to say it properly, but it was a hopeless endeavour.

“That. A phone fall,” Arthur grinned.

Hermione pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh. Mr. Weasley was awesome, but he could be a bit… there were no words to describe him.

“Up!” she … the stove.

The twins frowned in confusion. They had been in Harry’s room and they knew that it wasn’t on the ground floor like the kitchen, but on the first one. How could Harry hear the stove? Unless he had become a bat overnight (and everyone knew that the only bat in the castle was Snape), it should have been impossible for him to hear it.

They looked at their brother, but Ron looked just as confused as them. They all turned towards Harry, but the black-haired boy was staring at the book with an intensity that was a bit worrying.

“Mate,” Ron whispered, nudging him gently so as not to startle him. “You trying to make the book burst into flames?” He didn’t receive an answer. “It would be much easier using your wand. I don’t think it’s gonna work just by glaring at it.”

Harry stiffened, but he still didn’t answer. He wished he could do that. Or turn it to stone like the basilisk did so not another page could be turned. Why couldn’t he have got some cool abilities from when the basilisk fang had pierced his arm?

Ron stared at him in confusion, looking at the book and back. What was going on with his best friend? It couldn’t be because of having fallen asleep, could it? Maybe it could be because of those things he had warned him and Hermione the night before?

He rolled … same dream before.

“Not a dream,” Sirius scoffed, pride unmistakable in his voice. “You did fly in a motorcycle before. I used to try to take you on a ride.”

“You did?” Harry asked surprised.

Remus rolled his eyes, but a fond smile betrayed his feelings. “It used to drive Lily up the wall every time he tried.”

“I thought she was going to kill me the one time I managed to sneak you out with me,” Sirius said, eyes unfocused as he remembered those times.

“She would’ve, had she figured out a way to knock you off the motorcycle without harming Harry,” Remus snorted. “The only reason she didn’t cut your hands so you wouldn’t be able to ride that motorcycle or hold Harry again was because of James’ intervention and the grovelling you did for a week.”

Sirius suppressed a shudder. “Redheads are scary.”

“That’s something I can agree with,” Ron nodded vigorously. His mum was very scary and Ginny was learning from her.

“We all can,” Bill said, looking at his mother and his little sister.

His aunt … demanded.

“You could give him a minute,” Seamus frowned. “Every kid takes a while to actually wake up.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Dena rolled his eyes. “I’m still convinced that you sleepwalk through the first two periods every day.”

“I do not!” Seamus protested indignant.

“Yes, you do,” Parvati intervened tiredly. “I saw you drooling in History of Magic the other day.”

“Everyone falls asleep in History of Magic!” He argued, his face flaming.

“Hermione doesn’t,” Ron chipped in teasingly.

“Everyone but Hermione falls asleep in History of Magic!” He corrected himself, sending his roommate a glare.

“And I saw you trying to repot the Devil’s Snare with your eyes closed,” Harry chipped in, unable to help himself. “It would’ve strangled you if Neville hadn’t been there,” he reminded him, sending a brief proud smile at a beet red Neville.

“I thought it was a Flitterblooom!”

“Even when it was choking you?” Dean teased him.

“I thought maybe it wanted a hug or something! Flitterblooms are supposed to be friendly!”

Dean sent him an odd look, part exasperated and part amused. “We have to find you a girlfriend if you’re desperate enough for hugs to go to the Devil’s Snare for one,” he deadpanned.

Seamus blushed horribly, his splutters unheard over the cackles and snickers.

“Nearly,” said Harry.

“Merlin, you sound so young, Harry!” Charlie exclaimed, caught by surprise.

Harry frowned. “Do I really sound like that?” He asked.

“Yes,” Hermione smiled a little bit. Or he used to, at least.

“Not so much now,” Ron grinned. He liked this spell. It was so weird.

“Well, … Duddy’s birthday.”

“You know how to cook?” Katie asked surprised. She was rubbish at it, somehow managing to almost burn water the first time she had tried. She was proud to say that she could now heat the soup from a can without completely butchering it.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “Some.”

“But you were eleven here,” Angelina frowned in confusion. “And it was your cousin’s birthday.”

Harry shrugged again. “I was ten, actually. And Aunt Petunia was with Dudley and someone had to make breakfast.”

Nobody liked the sound of that. Couldn’t that someone be his uncle if his aunt wanted to dote on her son that morning? Why did it have to be the ten-year-old?

“When did you learn to cook?” Sirius asked with a frown. There was something about all this that he didn’t like.

“A while before that,” Harry answered, avoiding his gaze.

“How long is a while?” The animagus questioned, eyes narrowed.

“A while,” his godson answered firmly, leaving it clear that he wasn’t going to answer more questions on the subject.

“I think I’ll stick to mum’s cooking and Hogwarts’ food. I don’t wanna get poisoned with Harry’s cooking. I’m sure to end up in the infirmary if he’s as good in the kitchen as in Potions,” Ron intervened before Sirius could try to ask something else, forcing a teasing grin on his face when he wanted nothing more than to snarl. He didn’t need to know when Harry had started cooking to know that it had been when he had been way too young.

Harry grinned relieved and elbowed his best friend in the ribs. “I’m not that bad. The teacher has it out for me and you know it,” he protested without heat.

“Maybe,” Hermione conceded. “But you could still try to do better in that class.”

There were twin groans from the other two occupants on the couch.

“Not now, Hermione!”

“We don’t even have classes until we finish the books!”

Sirius’ frown deepened. Those three knew something they weren’t telling and it was something that he wanted to know. He would have to corner Harry later to demand an explanation.

Harry … through the door.

“Technically, he hasn’t said anything,” Alicia pursed her lips.

“Does a groan count as complaining?” Parvati asked hesitantly. Harry’s aunt sure was strict if she cared about those things. The way she herself saw it, it was only logical that Harry would prefer to spend the day celebrating his cousin’s birthday with him than to cook breakfast.

“And how did she hear him through the door?” Dean asked perplexed. With the spell, they could actually hear Harry’s groan and it was barely louder than breathing.

“She has sonar ears,” Harry deadpanned, still glaring at the book. He already hated this and they hadn’t been reading for ten minutes.

Sensing his worsening mood, nobody dared to comment further on the topic, but they were all curious. Harry’s family sure was… peculiar.

“Nothing, … put them on.

Ron shuddered violently, having the irrational feeling that he had dozens of those eight-legged monsters crawling over him.

“Merlin’s pants, Harry, I really hope that you haven’t brought spiders in your smelly socks to my room when I invited you this summer,” he threatened.

Harry grinned amused, his bad mood and growing panic momentarily vanishing. “Don’t worry, Ron. I made sure to leave all of them at the Dursleys to keep them company for the year.”

Hermione had a grimace on her face. “Well, I, for one, am glad that you became a bit more organised when you came to Hogwarts,” she said. Harry wasn’t as organised as her, but he was much better than Ron, who was hopeless. “How could you let your room get messy enough to have spiders in it?”

Harry’s easy grin turned forced. “I didn’t have a lot of time to clean it back then,” he lied through his teeth. It was not a good excuse and he knew it, but it had been the first thing that had popped into his mind.

“And your aunt didn’t care?” Fred asked bewildered.

“Wasn’t she a cleaning freak or something?” George asked, remembering how immaculate house was and how the woman had fretted over all the soot they had covered the living room in when they had come through the floo.

“Or something,” Harry said evasively. “She doesn’t come into my room if she can help it.”

Harry … where he slept.

The silence was overwhelming.

That couldn’t be right. Flitwick’s spell had got it wrong, or they had heard wrong, or these books were just a big, fat joke. It had to be a joke, right? The saviour of the wizarding world, the same one they all knew and whose name they grew up knowing, couldn’t sleep in a cupboard under the stairs, could he? Any moment now, Harry Potter would burst out laughing and ask who had written these books and got it so wrong, right? He would laugh and his friends would laugh and the world would go back to how it was supposed to be.

Except that he didn’t.

Harry Potter wasn’t laughing. In fact, he seemed about to be sick.

“Well, I guess that’s why your aunt didn’t go into your room if she could help it,” Ron tried to say lightly, but any kind of levity failed at the barely contained horror and pure rage on his face.

“A cupboard under the stairs?” Sirius whispered. Somehow, saying it aloud made it even worse than hearing it. His control over his emotions, which had never been the greatest and had only got worse after Azkaban, snapped and he rounded on his godson. “You sleep in a cupboard under the stairs?!”

Harry grimaced and resisted the urge to shrink away to hide from all the pitying and horrified looks. This was why he hadn’t wanted anyone to know. He didn’t want nor need pity or comfort or anything. It was in the past now and he didn’t care.

“Not anymore, Sirius,” he answered, feeling proud when his voice sounded normal. “Not since I received my first letter of Hogwarts.”

“That means that you spent ten years in that cupboard,” Remus said. He, on the other hand, couldn’t recognise his own voice. He didn’t know if he felt more guilt or anger.

Harry shrugged, trying to avoid everyone’s gazes. “It wasn’t that bad. I was small for a ten-year-old and I had enough space. And it doesn’t really matter now.”

Those words only made everything worse. It wasn’t that bad? He was small for his age? It didn’t matter now? That was how he was going to justify what they had done? Not that there was any kind of justification possible.

“Harry, mate, don’t…” Ron began to say, but he was shaking with rage. He had never thought that he could hate someone as much as he hated the Dursleys right then. “If you don’t wanna talk about it now, that’s okay, but don’t…”

“Don’t make excuses for them, Harry,” Hermione finished for him. Her hands were trembling, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the urge to go look for the Dursleys and turn them into cockroaches or because of the shock of finding out that her best friend’s room had been a cupboard under the stairs. She was going to be sick.

Harry grimaced. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Ron cut him off almost before he could finish. He glared at him defiantly, daring him to contradict his words. He had an arsenal of arguments that would have made Hermione proud if Harry didn’t agree with him.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, looking at him in the eye so his best friend could see that he wasn’t saying it just to appease him. Besides, if there was anyone he could bear to look in the eye after this had come to light in front of everyone, it would be Ron and Hermione.

Hermione grabbed his hand, waiting until he turned to look at her before talking. Her eyes were brimming with tears in spite of the fury shining in them and she pressed her lips closed, trying to keep them from trembling. After a moment’s hesitation, she threw her arms around him.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she murmured, hugging him as tightly as she could.

Her best friend returned the hug gladly, holding her as tightly in return as she was holding him. “Not your fault, Hermione, nor Ron’s. You didn’t even know me back then.”

Hermione pulled away and declared firmly. “You’re coming to my house this summer.”

Harry brightened a little bit. He had never been to Hermione’s. “I’d like that,” he said, even though he knew that it wouldn’t happen. He would have to go back to the Dursleys and he knew it.

Hermione smiled in response. “You can both come,” she said, looking at Ron over Harry’s shoulder. She could see the anger in the redhead’s face, but they both knew that this was not the place to deal with this newfound knowledge.

“Half the summer at yours and half at mine. I like that,” Ron said, forcing a grin on his face. He didn’t know how he managed to do it when all he wanted to do was to punch the Dursleys and then make them eat slugs for as long as his anger lasted. This time he had a wand that wasn’t broken and wouldn’t backfire on him.

“Harry,” Sirius called him, his voice not allowing any arguments. He wasn’t going to allow them to act like this hadn’t happened.

The boy’s grin flickered and disappeared as he turned to look at his godfather. “Sirius,” he said neutrally.

“Harry, those…”

“Sirius,” Remus cut him off, laying a hand on his shoulder to force him to turn to look at him.

“What, Remus?” He spat, swatting his hand away.

“Leave it,” the werewolf told him. He knew his childhood friend was furious, he himself was so angry that he was considering staying close to the Dursleys the following full moon. But it wasn’t the moment to approach this.

“Leave it? You want me to leave it?!” He snarled. He wanted to throttle Remus right then. “Those… those monsters, they…”

“I know,” Remus cut him off again, before he could decide that to hell with it and he went to hex the Dursleys right then. “But not now, Sirius. Not now.”

Sirius gritted his teeth. One look around at all the curious and horror-filled eyes explained Remus behaviour, but that didn’t mean that he had to like it. He growled in frustration and looked at his godson, who was staring at him impassively.

“We’re gonna talk about this,” he said warningly.

“Not now,” Harry replied. ‘And not ever,’ he added to himself. There was no way he was having this conversation with his godfather.

“This isn’t exactly helping your image of I’m-not-a-murderer,” Tonks pointed out with forced cheerfulness. Her hair had changed from her bright pink to white because of the shock at these news and then red with anger at those muggles. Only now was she slowly forcing it back to bright pink.

Sirius glared at her with an expression that reminded everyone that this man was a supposed psycho killer and his innocence hadn’t been proven yet.

“Maybe I will kill the Dursleys and give everyone a real reason to call me murderer then,” he snarled.

Oh, yes, this was exactly how they were going to convince everybody that he was innocent.

“Sirius!” Remus exclaimed in alarm and exasperation. He wanted to make the Dursleys suffer too, but this wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Harry.

“Bugger off, Remus!” He bellowed angrily.

Harry sighed as the reading continued. This kind of reaction was another one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted anyone to know.

When he … racing bike.

“Excuse me, a what?” Ron interrupted with a confused expression.

Hermione sighed. “What are you talking about? The bike?” She asked patiently.

“I know what a bike is!” He exclaimed offended. “And you explained to me what the televizzy thingy was already…”

“Television, Ron. It’s called a television,” she rolled her eyes. Half the time she was convinced that he got the names wrong on purpose just to rile her up.

“That,” the redhead said impatiently. “What’s the other thing? The campoter thing?”

Hermione frowned in confusion for half a second before her eyes widened and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle a giggle.

“A computer, you mean,” she corrected, managing to sound remarkably serious. “It allows you to look for information and play video games. It has a screen, like a television, but it has many other parts.”

She didn’t know how to explain it better without showing it to him. The muggle-borns and some half-bloods were nodding in agreement, but the vast majority of the purebloods looked puzzled.

“Muggles invent the weirdest things,” Ron declared finally. It was his conclusion almost every time Hermione tried to explain something about the muggle world to him.

The girl sighed exasperated. “Maybe, but they can be useful. It’s much easier to look for information with a computer than in the library.”

Several people gasped in shock.

“Blasphemy!” George screeched. “Hermione bad mouthing the library!”

“Who are you and what have you done with her?” Fred demanded, narrowing his eyes at the girl.

“Don’t be stupid,” she scoffed.

“They’re somewhat right, you know,” Harry teases her with a smirk. “You keep talking like that and Madam Pince won’t let you enter the library anymore.”

Exactly why… punching somebody.

“Oh, wait! Don’t tell me! I can see it coming!” Fred exclaimed dramatically, covering his eyes with a hand.

“I know, brother! Me too!” George followed along.

Dudley’s … was Harry,

“I knew it!” They shouted at the same, punching the air like they were happy.

It couldn’t have been further from the truth, but they were trying really hard not to let their anger get the better of them. Plenty of people were doing that already and Harry didn’t need anymore anger on his behalf, but he could use some laughs. Besides, they could get their hands on the Dursleys later to use them as Guinea pigs to test their products.

“Shut up, you two!” Ron shouted, throwing them a cushion. He didn’t hit them, but George did hit Ron square in the face when he threw it back. There was a reason they were the beaters of the Gryffindor quidditch team.

but he … very fast.

“Of course he is! You can’t be a seeker otherwise!” Dean laughed, earning chuckles and cheers from the other Gryffindors except those from first year, who hadn’t seen Harry play yet.

Hermione frowned. “Technically, that Harry’s fast on his feet has nothing to do with his ability in the air. There’s nothing that supports that correlation.”

“Hermione,” Ron whined, glaring at her. “Don’t try to take the fun out of quidditch. Harry’s fast and that’s why he’s an awesome seeker. That’s it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re all ridiculous,” she stated. She was never going to understand their obsession with that sport.

“And you have no idea about quidditch,” Ron shot back.

Perhaps … skinny for his age.

“Maybe a bit,” McGonagall said, her lips pursed in anger. She couldn’t stop picturing the tiny eleven-year-old that Harry had been, and when she said tiny, she meant it. The boy was still small for his age. Even Hermione was a couple of inches taller than him.

“But not all of it is because of that,” Remus said, forcing his lips to curl upwards. It felt more like a snarl than a smile. “James was one scrawny kid until he shot upwards like a weed in sixth year.”

“He did?” Harry asked hopefully. That meant there was hope left for him.

Remus’ smile became a bit more real and he nodded. “His mother, your grandma, was desperate because his trousers only fitted him for a couple of months before they were too short for him.” He elbowed Sirius and sent him a pointed look. “Remember that, Sirius?”

“Yes, but even neither James nor Lily were as small as Harry is with his age,” Sirius snapped. He was not in the mood for some old reminiscence. He could only think about how much he wanted to hurt the Dursleys, about how James and even Lily, as kind as she was, would have obliterated them for having treated their son like that.

Remus sent him an annoyed look. Couldn’t he put his anger aside for a while until they could actually do something about it? Harry had looked so happy a moment before and now he looked so… disappointed.

“Oh,” the boy said, deflating as he stared at the hands in his lap.

Something in his voice managed to catch Sirius’ attention enough to momentarily snap him out of his mood. He only realised how his words had to have sounded in his godson’s ears when he saw how dejected he looked.

“Harry, I…” He began hesitantly. He had no idea what he wanted to say. He hadn’t lied, but he had been way too harsh.

“It’s okay, Sirius,” Harry interrupted, masking his pain at the comment. Somehow, it didn’t surprise him that the Dursleys had managed to damage him for life physically. He had already known that he bore emotional scars that he doubted he would ever get rid of. “It’s not your fault.”

“But…” The animagus tried to say, wanting to make it better.

“Why don’t we keep reading?” Hermione interrupted him this time. She was glaring at him with so much anger that it was a mystery how he wasn’t a pile of ashes yet. In fact, she wasn’t the only one glaring at the fugitive.

“Leave it, Sirius,” Remus intervened quietly when his friend went to open his mouth again. He managed to sound neutral in spite of the annoyance he felt at the man. He knew that Sirius loved Harry and that he was rightfully furious, but he really had to get his act together if he didn’t want to hurt his godson anymore.

He looked … than he was.

“Not even clothes?” Lavander asked, glaring at the book like it was all its fault. “I mean, it’s bad enough that he didn’t have a proper bedroom, but they didn’t buy him clothes either?”

“I always wandered why Harry usually wore the school robes, even on the weekends,” Parvati mused, looking quite upset. Even now Harry was wearing his school robes.

“He doesn’t just wear that,” Seamus said. “I’ve seen him wearing jumpers and all that.”

“Those were Christmas presents from the Mrs. Weasley, Seamus,” Harry corrected him quietly, his cheeks red.

“Oh,” Seamus frowned. Did that mean that the only clothes that Harry had that fitted him were presents from his mother’s best friend? …That… That was awful.

Harry … bright green eyes.

“That’s what everyone tells me, if I don’t count all the gawking at the scar,” Harry said, half fond and half exasperated. His hand unconsciously went to flatten his hair against his forehead to hide the scar.

“He’s his father’s clone,” Fred said dramatically.

“With his mother’s eyes, as green as a fresh pickled toad,” George sang with a hand held to his heart.

Harry blushed furiously, but not nearly as much as Ginny, whose face clashed horribly with her hair. She looked a heartbeat away from hexing the twins to oblivion. It didn’t help that many people who remembered that awful musical poem were snickering not so quietly.

“What?” Bill laughed, looking at the twins bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

The twins gasped in mock-horror, ignoring their sister’s deathly glare. She couldn’t do anything without making obvious who was the author of that… monstrosity, and they knew it. It wasn’t often they had leverage over their sister and they were going to milk it for all it was worth it.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know, brother ours,” George said.

“You don’t know where that lovely poem came from?” Fred asked, an mischievous smirk beginning to appear on his face.

“That was part of a poem?” Charlie asked, exchanging a baffled look with his big brother before they both looked at the embarrassed Harry. “I didn’t know people wrote poems about you, Harry.”

“They don’t,” Harry said. He felt like his face was going to combust any moment now. He glared at Fred and George. “Not another word. Don’t you dare,” he threatened.

The twins studied him carefully. Harry was even more scary than their sister or their mother when he wanted to be. It wasn’t wise to anger him. Besides, the poor boy was already having more than enough things that he would have preferred to keep buried being brought out to the open.

“But I wanna know what that was about!” Bill protested. He couldn’t believe that the twins had backed off just because Harry had told them to stop.

“No way,” Harry cut him off, shaking his head and glaring at him.

Thinking about it better, maybe the twins had been right listening to Harry. The black-haired boy seemed ready to draw his wand and begin to hex people.

“You know that it may appear anyway, don’t you?” Hermione murmured in his ear when the attention went back to the book.

“But not today,” Harry replied. It was his only argument. He could deal with that embarrassment the following day, or the one after that if they kept a slow pace reading.

He wore … on the nose.

Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “I remember that!” She exclaimed. “At the beginning of first year!”

“Yeah, I remember it, too,” Ron said, scrunching up his nose as he tried to recall when he had met Harry more than three years earlier.

“But they weren’t broken for long, were they?” Dean asked, trying to remember. Had it really been that long? Although, when he thought about it, he could barely remember what he had had for dinner the night before so maybe it wasn’t so surprising that he wasn’t sure how long Harry’s glasses remained broken.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I learnt how to fix them as soon as I could. Reparo was one of the first spells I learnt how to do.”

“Before Wingardium Leviosa?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “I asked Professor Flitwick to fix my glasses the first time.”

“He did,” the tiny professor nodded when many turned to look at him. “Then I taught it to him about a week after the first years learnt the Levitation Charm.”

“It is a useful charm,” Harry chuckled, sending his professor a grateful look. His glasses would remain permanently broken if it hadn’t been for that spell.

The only … a bolt of lightning.

Ron turned towards his best friend so fast that he almost got whiplash. “You liked…?” He gaped, pulling himself together quickly. “You hate that scar.”

“I didn’t know what it meant, okay?” Harry said defensively, but he was grimacing at his past self’s ignorance. “I do hate it. It’s annoying.”

“Aren’t you proud about it, Harry?” Colin asked from a bit further away. He had wanted to talk with his idol for a while, but he hadn’t dared to when he had seen him surrounded by all his family and friends.

“Not really,” Harry shrugged uncomfortable. “I didn’t do anything. I just… got hit with a curse that didn’t work.”

Anything? Got hit with a curse that didn’t work? That was what he had to say about the night that peace returned to the wizarding world?

He had … don’t ask questions.”

“Car crash?!” Many bellowed incensed. They couldn’t believe their ears.

“Filius, I mean no offense, but are you sure that your spell is working correctly?” McGonagall asked, her voice strained. Her eyes were flashing dangerously as she clenched her fists to try to stop them from trembling.

“No offense taken, Minerva,” Flitwick shook his head. He was equally furious and upset at the lies that the young Potter had been told as a child. “I too wish that it wasn’t working properly, but I’ve already checked twice since we heard about the cupboard.”

“How dare they?!” Sirius screamed, wanting to punch something. He needed to hit something soon. “How could they lie about James and Lily like that?!”

“And to lie to Harry?” Remus added, his eyes flashing amber for an instant.

“Maybe they didn’t know the truth,” Arthur suggested unconvinced. He didn’t want to think that Harry had spent ten years with people that would lie to him about his parents like that.

“They did,” McGonagall intervened, having heard him. “I saw Albus leave them a letter with Harry. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“I explained everything in there,” Dumbledore said, his face heavy with disapproval. He sighed tiredly. “Maybe they considered that he was too young to know the truth…”

“Oh, Dumbly-dorr, don’t even try to make excuses for them,” Madame Maxime was, surprisingly, the one who interrupted him. “It’s one zing to not want to tell the truz, but such lies sont impardonnables,” she fumed.

“There, listen to the lady, Dumbledore,” Sirius said, glaring at the headmaster. “There are no excuses. They could’ve told him that they would tell him when he grew up, or a watered-down version. Anything but lying about them.”

“Did you even know about magic?” Bill asked, upset and angry.

Harry shook his head. He was having a hard time comprehending the indignation everyone seemed to feel on his behalf. Why did they care now, when no one had bothered to check on him in ten years? Either way, it was not the time to start asking those questions.

Don’t ask … the Dursleys.

“Well,” Cho huffed. “That’s not a good way to learn.”

Harry blushed and ducked his head. He didn’t know what to feel about the fact that his crush was reading everything about his life. He would have preferred that she never knew about it.

“I don’t think Mr. Potter has ever asked me a question in class,” Professor Sprout said quietly.

“The only time he asked me anything was to teach him how to fix his glasses,” Flitwick said, looking upset. “Severus?” He asked, hopefully.

The Potions teacher raised an eyebrow. “You really think that Potter would ask me anything in class?” He asked dryly, making an incredible effort to sound as he usually did when he spoke about Potter. He hated how the past half an hour had completely shattered the illusion he had about Potter being pampered and doted on at home, and he hated even more that he didn’t know how to feel about that.

“I suppose not,” the Charms teacher sighed. He looked at McGonagall. “Minerva?”

The witch tried to remember, but it was true. She couldn’t recall a single time in more than three years when Harry had raised his hand to ask a question in class. “I don’t think so. Not in class at least.”

“But he has asked you something outside?” The tiny professor asked, brightening up.

The head of Gryffindor swallowed, but she felt like the guilt was eating her from the inside. “Four times. The first time I, I brushed him aside. I’m pretty sure that it’ll show up in the books so I won’t bother telling you about it,” she cut them off, seeing the questions coming.

“And the other times?” Sprout asked softly, sensing that her colleague regretted having ignored her student. They could talk about it when it came up in the books.

“The second time was at the end of his first year,” McGonagall remembered. “He asked me if it was possible to stay at Hogwarts during the summer holidays.”

The four teachers closed their eyes for a second, understanding why he would ask that after having read that tiny bit about his home life. No child would have wanted to go back to that.

“And I told him that it wasn’t possible,” the Transfiguration teacher said, covering her mouth with a hand to stifle a sob as she remembered that conversation. “But that he could ask the headmaster if he was that insistent.”

Four heads turned to look at Dumbledore, who looked so old and so impassive at the same time.

“We know what his answer was,” Snape sneered, his eyes flashing dangerously. Dumbledore had promised him that Potter was safe where he was, but nothing they had read so far spelt safe. That man better had his explanations ready for when he went to demand them as soon as they finished the reading for the day.

“What about the third time, Minerva?” Pomona asked, pushing down her own turmoil.

“It was in his second year, when I caught him and Mr. Weasley trying to sneak into the infirmary. He asked me if they could go see Ms. Granger,” she said, her voice thick with emotions.

“Did you allow them to?” The head of Hufflepuff asked softly.

“Of course,” the other woman nodded. “I couldn’t tell them no.”

“No, I suppose not. I would’ve allowed them to go, too,” Sprout sighed. “And the last time? Did you give him whatever he asked for?”

McGonagall’s face scrunched up in an expression of pure regret. “No, I didn’t. It was last year. He asked me if I could allow him to go to Hogsmeade. He told me his uncle and his aunt had forgotten to sign the authorization.”

“More like they didn’t want to give him something he clearly wanted,” Snape scoffed before he could catch himself. He gritted his teeth, inwardly berating himself. He was not going to begin to pity Potter now.

The other teachers didn’t even tease him about how it was the first time he stood up for the boy. They were too furious and upset and generally miserable.

“And I told him that only a parent or a guardian could sign it,” the head of Gryffindor finished, shutting her eyes tightly.

“Does that mean that this is going to be the second year the poor boy is going to have to remain in the castle while his friends go to Hogsmeade? All because those relatives of him want to make his life as miserable as possible?” Flitwick asked indignant. Oh, no, not on his watch. He was willing to go have a chat with those Dursley himself until they saw reason and they signed the damn authorization.

Snape pursed his lips. He wanted to say that he was almost sure that Potter had sneaked into Hogsmeade the year before, but he had no proof. They would tell him it was impossible with the dementors and all the security that had been around the castle. Maybe with these books he would finally find out how the blasted boy had done it.

McGonagall frowned in confusion. “I… don’t think so. Unless I’m very much mistaken, Mr. Potter gave me his authorization at the beginning of the school year.”

The other three teachers stared at her surprised, their eyebrows practically disappearing into their hairlines.

“Is that so?” Snape asked slowly.

“How?” Sprout asked puzzled. “Those muggles hate him. They’d never willingly sign it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I didn’t look at it too closely,” the Transfiguration teacher confessed frustrated. “I just know that it passed the test so it wasn’t forged.”

“Do you think we’ll find out in the books?” Flitwick asked curiously. He wouldn’t even be upset if it turned out to be a forgery that had somehow got past his colleague. He was just happy that the boy could have something good from time to time.

“Maybe,” McGonagall nodded, still thinking about Harry’s authorization. She was going to have to take another look at it later.

Uncle Vernon … morning greeting.

“Good morning to you, too,” Angelina growled, shaking with anger. She couldn’t believe that Harry, little Harry who was the smallest one of the team and was almost like a little brother to all of them, lived with these people.

“They’re the politest bunch, Harry,” Alicia said sarcastically.

“It makes me wonder where you learnt your good manners from,” Molly said angry. She wanted to hex these people so badly for having treated a boy she saw as one of her children like that.

About once … over the place.

“It’s the Potter hair,” Sirius laughed, his bad mood temporarily lifting as he remembered how many headaches that hair had caused on anyone who tried to tame it. “James’ mum was never able to comb it and neither could Lily.”

“She only gave up on trying when, as a one-year-old, you already showed signs of having the Potter hair and nothing she did made it behave,” Remus chuckled. “It drove her crazy that no kind of potion or muggle remedy worked.”

Harry grinned, imagining the situation. Had his dad really been as unsuccessful as him in trying to tame that mop of hair?

Harry was … his mother.

“Eggs and bacon, Harry? You really know how to do that?” Fred asked, feigning mock-curiosity when he saw some people about to begin making angry comments, like, let’s say, their mother.

“Or better yet, complete it to make a full English breakfast?” George asked, eyes wide with mock-wonder. He grabbed his stomach when there was a loud grumble. “Oh, great. Now I’m hungry.”

Harry rolled his eyes, a tiny grin on his face. He was so grateful that they were able to treat the whole situation lightly in front of the school. “You can’t be hungry,” he answered. “We’ve literally just had breakfast. Not even Ron is hungry yet.”

Ron rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, his ears turning red. “In fact…”

Hermione leant forward to send him an exasperated look. “Really, Ron? Really? I saw you eat four pieces of toast, two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon and three cups of pumpkin juice. You can’t be hungry.”

“Blame them!” Ron protested, pointing at the twins. “They’re the ones that began to talk about English breakfasts.”

Hermione rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you really are a bottomless pit.”

Dudley … pig in a wig.

People snickered, trying to imagine Harry’s cousin based on the description. It wasn’t a pretty picture, no matter who was imagining it.

“A pig in a wig? Really?” Charlie asked, torn between laughing and not believing it.

“Unfortunately, dear brother,” George said.

“We can attest that it’s a very accurate description,” Fred nodded. “Although the pig has fattened up since this happened.”

George sent his twin a smirk that promised trouble. “Like a pig brought up for the slaughter. We can try so many products on him.”

“A magnificent test subject,” Fred agreed.

“Fred! George!” His mother scolded them. “You’re not going to use Harry’s cousin as a test subject to create more products! I told you not to make more of those things!”

Wisely, the twins decided not to answer to that. If their mother knew that they were still developing more and more products, she would go berserker. Besides, they still had to corner Bagman and now, with everyone in the castle trapped in the time bubble, it was the perfect time to do it.

Harry put … last year.”

Seamus choked on his own spit. “Excuse me?!” He exclaimed, his voice an octave higher than normal.

“Did he just say thirty-six?” Tonks asked stunned. “I think I just heard him say that he had received thirty-six birthday presents.”

“He did, and he had received thirty-eight the year before that,” Bill said with a grimace.

“How can he complain?” The metamorphmagus asked perplexed.

“Darling, … Mummy and Daddy.”

“Wait, I stand corrected,” Bill said, rolling his eyes. “He received thirty-seven.”

“I can’t believe this,” Charlie said wide-eyed. “Thirty-seven presents?”

“How can they buy him so many things?” Ginny asked shocked. Even though she sometimes wished that her parents could buy her more things, it revolted her that a child could receive so many things and then complain.

“If they always buy him more presents than the year before, they’re going to run out of space and money at the rate they’re going,” Tonks said, trying to wrap her head around the idea of receiving so many things. What in Merlin’s name would she do with so many things if she were in his place?

“Most of those presents don’t last long,” Harry explained. “He breaks them rather quickly, either accidentally or on purpose.”

“He breaks them?” Mrs. Weasley repeated horrified.

Harry winced. He couldn’t ever imagine damaging or throwing away a present he received, even less the ones he received from the Weasleys.

“All right, … the table over.

“He would turn the table over?” Katie asked, half fascinated and half disgusted. This was like a specimen she had never heard of before, but, then again, she had never known that a child could be so spoilt.

“He would,” Harry said with a grimace. “He had, in fact, and he has done it several times since that.”

“Just how old is your cousin?” Angelina asked baffled.

“A bit more than a month older than me,” Harry answered. “He was born on the twenty-third of June.”

“So, it was his eleventh birthday, and he was gonna throw a tantrum?” Angelina asked, even more flabbergasted. Harry nodded. “How…? No, wait. I don’t wanna know how they managed to utterly destroy a child like that.”

“It makes me wonder if it wasn’t Dudley who drew the short stick between the two of us when it comes to growing up with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia,” Harry snickered, only to be cut off by a slap to the back of his head. “Hermione! What was that for?” He asked, rubbing the sore spot. Hermione sure had quite an arm when she wanted.

“Don’t you dare begin to think that your childhood was in any way, shape or form acceptable, Harry James Potter,” she hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“I’m not!” He assured her quickly, leaning away from her. “I just said that Dudley wasn’t that lucky either.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes even further, making him gulp nervously. Fortunately, she let it go.

Aunt Petunia … all right?”

“More presents?” Charlie asked, not believing his ears. He had to be in some alternate reality. Was this part of some kind of elaborate joke from the twins?

“So, he threatens to throw a tantrum and she bribes him with more presents?” Molly asked incensed.

“That’s no way to bring up a child,” Arthur frowned disapprovingly.

“I guess that answers my question about how they could destroy a child so much,” Angelina said faintly. “Can’t they see the damage they’re causing?”

“I don’t think they see there’s anything wrong with Dudley,” Harry shook his head.

Dudley thought … thirty . . . thirty . . .”

“Thirty-nine, you nitwit,” Ron spat, losing his patience. He had very little to begin with when it came to Harry’s relatives and this book wasn’t helping them win any points with him.

“He’s eleven and he can’t add two?” Dean asked shocked beyond belief. He turned towards Harry. “Please, tell me there’s anything that justifies this. He fell on his head as a baby or something?”

Harry smirked amused. “Not really. It just got swelled up too much. Now it can’t fit through the doors and he has to leave it behind when he enters a room.”

Ron snorted. “Good one, Harry.”

“Thirty-nine, … Dudley’s hair.

“Don’t encourage that kind of behaviour!” Molly screeched. She wanted to reach into the books and throttle Vernon and Petunia. They were ruining that child.

“Can you imagine having a kid like that in your class?” Flitwick asked with a grimace. He wouldn’t even know how to begin to reason with him when he inevitably protested about anything.

“Oh, Merlin, that would’ve been a nightmare,” Sprout said wide-eyed.

“Thank Merlin they didn’t bring up Mr. Potter like that, uh?” McGonagall said, sending a sideway glance at the head of Slytherin. She had lost count of the amount of times that Severus had repeated again and again Harry was a pampered prince spoilt beyond belief at home and they shouldn’t do the same at Hogwarts.

Snape refused to look at her. He knew what she was thinking. This kind of behaviour was the one he had expected Potter to have, not his cousin. He didn’t know how many times he had said that Potter was an arrogant brat that had everything handed to him on a silver plate. How was supposed to act with said brat if all that wasn’t true? What had happened in his class? Where were all the signs of arrogance he had seen, that arrogance that had reminded him so much of James Potter?

At that … a VCR.

“Whoa,” Ron whistled impressed. “I have no idea what those things are, but there are a lot of them.”

“And they aren’t cheap things either,” Hermione added with a disgusted frown. So, they had enough money to buy their son all these things, but they couldn’t bother to buy their nephew proper clothes that fitted him?

“When is he gonna have time to use all that?” Katie asked confused. Why did he want so many things if he wasn’t going to be able to enjoy them? It made no sense.

“Somehow, he has time every year to use all of them and break most,” Harry said with wry amusement. There was really nothing funny about it, but it was either that or become upset at the differences in the treatment he received and the one Dudley did.

He was … angry and worried.

“Good,” Sirius smirked darkly.

“Good?” Remus repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Anything that angers and worries that woman is a good thing for me,” the animagus explained, his smirk widening it.

Remus stared at his friend bewildered before snorting. “You’re unbelievable,” he huffed.

“Don’t say it like you don’t agree with me, Remus.”

“Bad news, Vernon,” … Harry’s direction.

“‘Him’?” Ginny repeated disgusted. “He has a name.”

Harry couldn’t help but think back at his childhood, before he had begun school. For so long he hadn’t known his name, believing that it was ‘freak’ or ‘boy’ or something like that. His relatives had never called him by his name before he had come to Hogwarts and they rarely used it ever since. He had only learnt his own name when Aunt Petunia had told it to him the very same morning he was going to begin his classes. He had been so ecstatic about it that he hadn’t stopped repeating it in his head for days.

Nobody knew this, of course, and he really hoped that it didn’t appear in the books or he had the feeling that the riot would demolish Hogwarts. He just knew that they would find a way to get out of the time bubble and get to the Dursleys to make them pay tenfold for everything they had done.

Dudley’s mouth … he’d planned this.

“He’s ten,” Angelina deadpanned. She was losing her patience with these people. “He can’t plan things like that.”

“He could’ve broken the woman’s leg,” Fred pointed out.

“He could’ve timed it perfectly so as not to have to stay with her again,” George nodded mock-seriously.

“Fred! George! How can suggest something like that?!” Their mother exclaimed horrified. “Harry would never do that!”

“We didn’t say that he would,” George said.

“We said that he could,” Fred corrected her.

Hermione snorted. “No, he couldn’t have. Harry’s plans don’t work.”

“Hey!” Harry protested.

“Wait, no,” Ron said, making his best friend look at him hopefully. “It’s not that they don’t work. It’s more like they work against him. Instead of that woman, it would’ve been Harry who would’ve ended up with a broken leg.”

Harry scowled and gave him a hard shove. “Some friends I have.”

“Oh, you know that it’s true, Harry,” Hermione rolled his eyes at his dramatics.

Harry knew … and Tufty again.

Sirius grimaced. “With names like that, they sound like horrible cats,” he said. “They must suffer every day for it.”

“They’re cats, Sirius,” Remus sighed. “They don’t really care what name they have.”

“Hey! Just because I prefer dogs it doesn’t mean that I can’t defend cats and they deserve good names, like Minnie,” Sirius said, grinning mischievously.

“Mr. Black!” McGonagall yelled, glaring at him as her glasses flashed dangerously. “That you’re no longer my student doesn’t mean that I’ll tolerate that kind of disrespect from you!”

Sirius gulped. Maybe it was a bit too soon for jokes like that. Perhaps it would be a better idea to leave them for later, when she believed his innocence.

“You never learn, do you, Padfoot?” Remus sighed under his breath in amused exasperation.

“We could … suggested.

“Holy Merlin, not her,” Harry shuddered. “I would’ve rather stayed with Mrs. Figg than Aunt Marge.”

“Aunt Marge? Who’s Aunt Marge?” Sirius asked confused, but wary. Anyone who could make his godson react like that was bad news as far as he was concerned. However, he hadn’t known that Lily had more sisters.

“She’s Uncle Vernon’s sister,” Harry explained with a faint expression of hatred crossing his face. “She hates me and I hate her. Mutual relationship of hatred.”

“Wait, is she…?” Ron asked, a grin slowly appearing on his face. “The one you…?”

Harry grinned amused. “Yeah, that one.”

Ron burst out laughing. “Brilliant!” He exclaimed.

Hermione frowned disapprovingly at them. “It’s not funny, Ron. Harry could’ve got in a lot of trouble.”

“Oh, c’mon, Hermione,” Harry smiled at her. “I promise that I didn’t do it on purpose. Besides, she deserved it.”

“What exactly did she deserve?” Sirius asked, not sure whether he should feel proud or worried. “What did you do to her, Harry?”

Ron opened his mouth to tell everyone enthusiastically, but Harry shut him up with a well-aimed elbow to the ribs.

“It was nothing important,” Harry said. “I’d have to explain why it happened and it’s a story too long to tell it now. And I’m almost sure that it’s going to appear in the books, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Harry,” Fred whined.

“Don’t leave us hanging,” George said pleadingly. That smelt like an outburst of Harry’s accidental magic and it was usually the best one. They got so many ideas from that.

Harry grinned. “If it doesn’t appear, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

“Don’t be … hates the boy.”

“See? Mutual relationship of hatred,” Harry pointed out.

Molly sighed sadly and leant against her husband. “I don’t understand it, Arthur. How can they hate him so much?”

Arthur wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I don’t know, dear. I really don’t understand it.”

How could those people hate so much the same boy that their whole family would adopt in a heartbeat?

The Dursleys … like a slug.

Ron closed his eyes and clenched his fists so tightly that he was sure to leave marks on the palms of his hands. He felt a nudge from his best friend, but he ignored it. However, Harry didn’t let up and kept poking him.

“What, Harry?” He snapped finally, turning to look at him.

“I’m supposed to be the broody one with mood swings, remember? You’re the one who supposedly has the emotional capability of a rock,” Harry told him. His gaze softened when he saw the real angst in his friend’s eyes. “What’s going on, Ron?”

The redhead sighed and deflated in the couch. “I just don’t like your relatives.”

“Okay,” Harry snorted. “Now there’s two of us.”

“Three of us,” Hermione corrected, sending Ron a concerned look.

“Three of us,” Harry nodded, correcting himself. “But we already knew that. You already hated them.”

“But it’s one thing to know that they don’t treat you right and that they’re… despicable,” she said, pursing her lips. “And it’s another thing to know it.”

Harry frowned in confusion. “You already knew it, as you say. You just didn’t know all the details.”

“But we hadn’t seen it and…”

“Technically, you’re not seeing it now either…” Harry interrupted, earning himself exasperated looks.

“Harry, you know what we mean,” Hermione said.

“They’re… so much worse than I imagined, and I already thought they were horrible,” Ron said, half disgusted and half afraid. “I wanna…” He trailed off, raising his hands in front of him half curled and squeezing like he was imagining the Dursleys neck between his fingers.

Harry sighed. “You can’t strangle them, Ron. Well, maybe Aunt Petunia, but no Uncle Vernon or Dudley.”

His two best friends stared at him like he had gone crazy.

“Why in Merlin’s beard can’t we strangle your uncle and cousin? You can’t tell me you’re fond of them deep down, right?” Ron asked, alarmed.

Harry snorted. “I haven’t taken enough bludgers to the head for that,” he reassured them. “But do you really think that you can wrap your hands around my cousin’s neck? Never mind my uncle. That’s a lost cause.”

Ron and Hermione were staring at him like they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“You’re mental,” Ron chuckled.

“For once, Ron’s completely right,” Hermione nodded in agreement, but her lips were twitching upwards.

“Exac- Hey! What do you mean for once?!”

“What … go on Dudley’s computer).

“Don’t know why I bothered,” Harry sighed, leaning back. “I knew there was no way they would leave me alone in the house.”

“Good,” Mrs. Weasley nodded firmly. “You can’t leave a child that young at home on his own. What if something happened?”

Harry decided not to comment that the Dursleys would have probably been happy if something happened to him. He was sure that it would have made their day if they arrived home one day and he was gone from their lives forever.

Aunt … in ruins?” she snarled.

Molly was turning red with anger as her temper rose. “That’s why they didn’t want to leave Harry alone at home? They were worried about their little house?” She spat.

Arthur wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Calm down, Molly.”

“It’s not fair, Arthur,” she said, leaning back against him as sadness began to substitute her anger. “They hate him.”

“Mrs. Weasley,” Harry called, smiling softly at her. “It doesn’t matter. Really. I hate them too.”

She returned the smile sadly, but she couldn’t disagree more. It mattered. It mattered a lot to her and to her husband and to the rest of her family.

“I won’t … they weren’t listening.

“Would you?” Seamus asked, looking at his roommate curiously.

“What? Blow up the house?” Harry asked surprised. Seamus nodded. “Why would I do that?” He asked, torn between shock and amusement.

Seamus shrugged, a vaguely disappointed expression on his face. “Blowing up things that you hate always gives you the best feeling. And I would hate that house if I were you.”

Dean eyed his best friend suspiciously. “Just how many things have you blown up on purpose and let everyone think that it was an accident?”

Seamus’ features schooled themselves into the vivid picture of innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’d never do something like that.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed even more. “If one of my posters blow up, I’m gonna take it out on you, Finnigan.”

“Such little faith in me,” the boy rolled his eyes. “In case you don’t remember, it’s Ron the one who usually tries to mess with your posters.”

“I don’t mess with his posters,” the redhead scoffed. “I just try to make them a little livelier.”

Dean almost had steam coming out of his ears. “If my posters are damaged in any way, I’m gonna make both of you pay for it.”

“Hey! What about Harry and Neville?” Seamus asked indignant.

“They’ve never messed with my posters.”

“I haven’t even come close to them,” Neville mumbled. He wasn’t stupid.

“See?” Dean said triumphantly. “That’s a good friend. Maybe Neville will be my new best friend from now on.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Seamus rolled his eyes.

“I … him in the car...”

“Please, tell me she’s joking,” Hermione cut in, her voice deadly in a way that hadn’t been yet.

“You know they have no sense of humour, Hermione,” Harry said slowly, studying her carefully. “Why do you ask?”

She whirled around towards him, her eyes blazing with fury and a hint of panic. “Children die when they’re left in the car locked in, Harry. They die of heat stroke after a few hours.”

“They what?!” Many shouted.

“They die in the car? Why?” Ron asked, paling rapidly even as his ears turned red with anger.

“The heat, Ron. The car becomes like an oven and literally cooks them alive,” Hermione explained curtly, trembling with rage. This was the first time she heard that not only they had made Harry miserable, but they had endangered his life. She was going to make them pay.

“Remember what happened on the way to Hogwarts on our second year?” Harry asked. “Imagine that without air conditioner at all or water but in June instead of September.”

The redhead blanched before his eyes hardened. “I’m gonna kill them,” he declared. He said it so naturally, so calmly, that in that instant nobody doubted it.

“Ron…” Harry sighed.

“Don’t, Harry. Don’t,” his best friend cut him off. “Not on this. I’m not joking. They wouldn’t have cared if you died. There’s nothing that can excuse that.”

Everyone agreed with Ron, even those who weren’t totally sure about what a car was. Letting a child die of heat stroke was something serious. They couldn’t believe that these people would treat Harry Potter like this while the whole wizarding world idolised him. How close had they been to losing their saviour at the hands of his relatives?

“Ron, my magic would’ve acted up and would’ve probably opened the car,” Harry tried to sooth him. He only made it worse.

“Your magic shouldn’t have to act to save your life, Harry,” Remus said through gritted teeth.

“And probably doesn’t cut it this time,” Sirius added, trying not to think that he could have lost his godson while he had been thinking that he was safe and happy. Why hadn’t he tried to escape Azkaban before? Why hadn’t he taken Harry with him when he had run away with Buckbeak? It would have been better than living with those animals.

“That car’s … in it alone...”

“That’s their reason for not leaving you in the car?” Bill spat in disgust. His hatred and repulsion towards these people only grew with each revelation.

“They care about the car more than they care about you,” Tonks said uncomprehendingly. How could anyone care more about an object than a person’s life, especially a kid?

“They cared more about the house than about him, too, didn’t they?” Molly said, her hands trembling as she tried to keep tears at bay. She wanted to scream and rage and cry and curse the Dursleys and sweep Harry into a hug and never let him go, promising him that he was safe now.

Dudley began … anything he wanted.

“Really? Fake tears to go along with the tantrum?” Katie scrunched up her nose.

“How can she believe it? Can’t she see right through the act?” Molly asked desperate. She couldn’t understand the Dursleys. “She brought him up. She should know in an instant when he’s hiding something.”

“Mum,” Bill said softly. “Not all mums in the world are like you.”

“I reckon we were lucky, weren’t we?” Percy chipped in, hating to see his mother upset. She was the person he hated the most to see upset about something.

Molly gave her a watery smile, melting in an instant when all her children nodded and murmured their agreements. Even Harry and Hermione were smiling in agreement. Merlin, she loved them, she loved the nine of them.

“Dinky Duddydums, … arms around him.

“Spoil his special day?” Angelina bristled. “You’ve barely even opened your mouth and you’ve made breakfast for him!”

“His standards are high,” Harry said dryly.

“High? High how?” She demanded exasperated. “What would you have to do so he would be happy on his birthday? Kiss the ground he walks on?”

Harry laughed aloud. “You really think that would work?”

Angelina softened when she heard him laugh. “Don’t know really. Don’t wanna know to be honest.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m not gonna try that,” Harry chuckled. “I’d sooner try to freeze the ground so he would slip and fall on his fat a- butt,” he corrected himself just in time, sending a quick glance at Mrs. Weasley. He had seen her scold their children for their language and he had no wish to have that anger directed his way.

Fred snorted. “That I’d pay to see. Especially because he probably wouldn’t be able to stand up again.”

George’s face brightened. “Freddie, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He asked.

Fred’s face mirrored his twin’s the next instant. “Oh, Georgie, I love how you think. It’d be an instant success, don’t you think?”

“Fred. George,” their mother began, beginning to give them the stinking eye. “You wouldn’t…”

“Dream of doing something that would anger you, mum,” George finished for her.

“We’re just fantasising,” Fred said innocently.

Molly didn’t seem to believe it, but she couldn’t be bothered to interrogate them right then. She could do it later.

“I . . . don’t . . . … his mother’s arms.

“What a brat,” Katie huffed, rolling her eyes.

“I think not even Malfoy would do that,” Ron scoffed.

Hermione tilted her head pensively. “What Malfoy does is not that different, threatening everyone with his father like that’s gonna fix everything. Neither of them is learning how to solve their own problems.”

Harry smiled amused. “They are a bit alike, aren’t they? Both just as spoiled and arrogant, bullying everyone around them.”

“And both of them hating your guts,” Ron grinned.

“Think they could start a club for Harry-Potter-haters?” Harry joked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Although, I believe they would argue too much about who would be in charge.”

“And they would hate each other,” Hermione added amused.

“That too,” Harry snickered. “Perhaps they would manage to get over it because of their mutual hatred towards me, though.”

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that,” Colin huffed under his breath, rolling his eyes. Why would anyone want to create a club for Harry-Potter-haters? They should just try to make them come around.

Just then, … Dudley hit them.

“Don’t tell me. You were one of those whose arms he held back,” Charlie said sarcastically.

Harry smirked sharply, which surprised just about everyone. “He did, but he usually ended up regretting it. I kick and I have a mean aim.”

They all snorted and chuckled in amusement. It was good to know that Harry hadn’t taken the bullying and the beatings quietly and hadn’t gone down without a fight. But what were they expecting? The boy didn’t seem to know what lying low and admit defeat were.

Dudley stopped … cry at once.

“Oh, don’t tell me he can’t cry in front of his friends,” Bill mocked. “Afraid about what his best friend would think of him?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Tonks snorted in agreement.

Half an hour … his life.

“What exactly is a zoo?” Parvati asked curious.

“It’s a place where different animals are kept so people can go see them,” Hermione explained quickly.

“They keep the animals locke’?” Hagrid asked in horror.

“Yes, but…” Hermione began, trying to stop the impending outburst. She didn’t talk fast enough.

“They can’t do tha’!” The gamekeeper bellowed, standing up like he intended to march right to the nearest zoo and free all the animals.

“Hagrid!” Hermione called, but Hagrid was too angry to listen to her and kept walking towards the door. She looked at her best friend. “Harry!” She pleaded. Hagrid always, always listened to Harry, never ignoring what he wanted to say.

The boy was already jumping to his feet to intercept the gamekeeper. “Hagrid,” he said seriously, standing firmly between him and the door with his arms crossed and an unamused expression on his face.

“Harry, yeh don’t understan’…” Hagrid fretted.

“Listen to Hermione, Hagrid,” Harry said firmly.

“Hagrid, that animals are kept there doesn’t mean that they aren’t well looked after,” Hermione said, walking over to stand next to Harry. “There are regulations to ensure that animals aren’t mistreated.”

She didn’t add that there were places who didn’t abide by those regulations. There would be no stopping Hagrid if she did.

“Yeh sure?” Hagrid asked concerned.

“Positive,” she nodded confidently. Then she had an idea. “We can take you to one for a visit this summer if you want.”

Hagrid brightened. “Yeh would?” He asked hopefully.

“We can all go,” Harry smiled, looking back at the Weasleys.

“And would we have to use muggle money again?” Arthur perked up, a huge grin spreading across his face. “What about the ticket machines? Would we see those? I’ve heard they work with eclecticity.”

Harry stifled a chuckle as they all went back to their seats. “I suppose, Mr. Weasley.”

“Wonderful!” The man said, his face lightening up like a child’s on Christmas.

“Settle down, dear. That won’t happen until this summer,” Molly said with a fond smile. She may not understand her husband’s obsession with muggle things, but it was something almost endearing to watch.

His aunt … taken Harry aside.

All signs of levity vanished immediately. Nobody wanted that man anywhere near Harry.

“If he harms a single hair on your head…” Sirius growled, clenching his fists tightly.

“Then you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it now,” Harry interrupted him, tired of all the pointless threats. “We can’t get out of here and this happened more than three years ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

The animagus gritted his teeth, wholeheartedly disagreeing with that assessment. It didn’t matter if it had happened three years before or twenty. He was going to break that man’s hand if he laid it on his godson and he was going to follow with every other bone in his body.

“I’m warning … now until Christmas.”

“Six months?” Hermione calculated quickly, bristling in indignation. “He threatened to lock you up in your… in that cupboard for six months.”

“He didn’t follow it through, Hermione,” Harry said soothingly.

“I’d hope so or he would’ve just been digging his grave even deeper,” she scowled.

“I’m not … make them happen.

“Accidental magic,” Percy realised, his eyes going wide.

“Oh, Merlin, I don’t even want to imagine how they would react to that,” Tonks said, covering her eyes with a hand.

“Petunia had to know perfectly well what was happening,” Remus scowled. “She grew up with Lily so she had to have seen it before.”

“They didn’t care about that,” Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t how to react to his ex-professor’s anger on his behalf. He didn’t need Professor Lupin’s anger.

“But they can’t blame you for your accidental magic!” Ginny protested. Really, what was wrong with these people? “They had to know it wasn’t your fault!”

“More like they knew exactly who the culprit was,” Harry corrected her.

“But that’s not fair!” She exclaimed. “It’s not something you can control!”

“Life isn’t fair,” Harry repeated his own words from the night before. “And life with the Dursleys even less.”

Once, … hide that horrible scar.”

“They were that tired of that mop on top of your head that you call hair?” Ron tried to joke, but his voice sounded too tense.

“They blamed you for the Potter hair?” Sirius asked incensed. “How could they? I don’t know of anyone who’s been able to tame it!”

“Now that I think about it,” Molly said, deciding to focus on something she could fix. “Harry, dear, you could use a haircut.”

Bill almost burst out laughing. He wanted to cheer he was so happy that now his mother had someone else to bother about getting a proper haircut. Maybe then she would lay off him for a while. As much as he sympathized with what awaited Harry, he was going to sit back and enjoy the show.

Harry gulped and unconsciously leant away from the woman. “Mrs. Weasley, I appreciate it, really, but I don’t wanna bother…” He tried. He should have known that wouldn’t work.

“Oh, nonsense, dear. It’s no bother at all,” she said dismissively.

“But, Mrs. Weasley, you don’t understand,” he tried again. “When’s the last time you think I got a haircut?”

The redheaded woman frowned in confusion. “I don’t know, Harry. This summer, I suppose. What does that have to do with…?”

“Mrs. Weasley, I haven’t got a haircut since I was seven, when that incident we’ve just read about happened,” he interrupted her delicately, trying not to be rude.

“Seven?” Bill repeated, biting his cheek to stifle his guffaws of laughter. His mother was going to go nuts. There was no way that Harry was going to be able to escape now.

And he was right. Molly pursed her lips and frowned, eyeing the mop of black hair like it was her newest adversary.

“That won’t do at all,” she tutted.

“But, Mrs. Weasley, it doesn’t matter,” Harry pleaded, looking around for help and finding just amused faces. Traitors. “It doesn’t change. It just stays like this forever and…”

“But it could look so much better, Harry,” Molly cut him off. “You’d look much more handsome with your hair just a bit shorter. And maybe I can find a way to make it stop pointing in every direction possible… Mmm…”

Harry could only watch in horror as Mrs. Weasley continued to murmur to herself and she eyed his hair thoughtfully.

Ron snorted and patted his shoulder. “You’ve done it now, mate. She won’t stop until she manages to comb your hair,” he snickered.

“But she won’t be able to do it,” Harry said horrified.

“That won’t stop her from trying.”

Dudley had laughed … taped glasses.

Many hid a wince. The baggy clothes and the taped glasses. According to Harry himself, those were the first things that he had tried to get rid off when he had arrived to Hogwarts. It must have really bothered him to have so many laughing at him for that.

Lavander and Parvati exchanged a glance. They wished they were a bit closer to Harry. This would have given them the perfect excuse to go on a huge shopping trip to find him clothes that fitted him. Unfortunately, they weren’t that close with him. Maybe they had to fix that.

Next morning, … sheared it off.

“Hah!” Sirius cheered triumphantly. “Told you. Potter hair. It wouldn’t be that easy to tame it.”

Remus bit his lip worried. He was sure that the Dursleys wouldn’t like it as much as Sirius and Harry would take the blame for it.

“It’s like even your hair’s stubborn,” Ron snickered.

Molly frowned heavily when she heard what had happened with Harry’s hair. “That won’t help at all,” she muttered to herself. She may even have to use potions to control Harry’s hair and morph it into something vaguely combed.

Bill elbowed his brother in the ribs and leant closer. “Mum looks about to have a fit hearing that,” he whispered.

Charlie looked at his mother and stifled his laughter. “Poor Harry. Think we should rescue him when she tries to corner him?”

Bill seemed to think about it for a moment before grinning mischievously. “I wanna see what she tries first.”

“You’re just happy she has someone else to bother about getting a haircut,” Charlie said knowingly.

“That too,” Bill admitted, grinning unabashedly. “But I wanna see how Harry’s hair resists all of mum’s efforts. We can rescue him after she’s tried for a bit.”

He had … back so quickly.

Any mirth present vanished.

“A week in the cupboard?” Remus growled through greeted teeth.

“He didn’t do anything!” Tonks shouted, her hair turning a fiery red. “It was accidental magic and it didn’t hurt anyone!”

“I’m gonna kill them,” Sirius said, or more like promised. Nobody locked his godson in a cupboard for a week and lived to repeat the experience.

“I wasn’t locked up the entire day,” Harry tried to calm everyone down. “I was allowed to get out to go to the bathroom twice a day.”

As soon as these words slipped past his lips, he wanted to take them back. It had sounded much better in his head. Looking around, he could see that it had indeed not helped at all. If anything, it had only made it worse as everyone’s faces darkened.

Another time, … Harry wasn’t punished.

“Finally,” Dean said, glaring at the book.

“I don’t get it,” Alicia said frustrated. “They blame you for the hair, but not for this?”

“Would you have preferred that they blamed him?” Angelina asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No!” Alicia exclaimed, glaring at her. “I just don’t understand what kind of logic they’re following. Why the hair and not the jumper?”

“As long as they could give those incidents a somewhat logical explanation, it was okay,” Harry shrugged. “They’d rather pretend that magic doesn’t exist than to punish me.”

“Logical explanation?” Percy repeated sceptically. The jumper shrinking in the wash wasn’t logical at all.

“I said somewhat logical,” Harry pointed out.

On the … the school kitchens.

“What?” Ron laughed. “You climbed a roof? Why would you do that?”

“You could’ve got hurt, Harry,” Hermione chided with a frown. “What if you had fallen down?”

“Aren’t you more worried about the fact that I could’ve been expelled?” Harry teased her gently.

Ron roared with laughter, much to the confusion of everyone but his two best friends. Hermione blushed and slapped Harry on the back of his head.

“Sorry, Hermione. It was a chance too good to let it go,” he apologised, smiling sheepishly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed. “You’re impossible.”

“What are we missing here?” Charlie asked curiously. He could see that no one but those three understood the obvious inside joke.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ron said dismissively, a massive grin on his face.

“And to answer your questions,” Harry said, looking at his best friends. “I didn’t climb to the roof. I actually have no idea how I got there.”

Dudley’s gang … on the chimney.

There weren’t laughs this time. They were too busy gaping at the uncomfortable boy squirming under all the gazes.

“Y-You apparated?” Ron broke the silence, eyes so wide that they seemed to pop out of their sockets.

“No clue,” Harry shrugged again. “I have no idea what apparition feels like, remember?”

“But, but… apparition is very complicated,” Percy spluttered in shock. “No child should be able to accomplish it.

“I don’t know if I apparated,” Harry repeated, gritting his teeth. “Maybe I flew or something.”

Snape suddenly had a huge flashback about a small girl with fiery red hair jumping from the swing and floating to land several feet away delicately. He had to close his eyes to try to avoid the images. He refused to see Potter in anyway similar to Lily. As far as he was concerned, the boy had only got his mother’s eyes and nothing else. That he hadn’t had the grand childhood Snape had pictured him having didn’t mean that the fame hadn’t got to his head since he had arrived to the wizarding world and he wasn’t as arrogant as his father used to be in Hogwarts.

“Flying is still pretty impressive, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, sending her student a proud smile.

Harry beamed at her, his cheeks colouring at the praise. It wasn’t often that one received such a compliment from the strict Professor McGonagall.

“I wanna fly too,” Ron said enviously.

Harry snorted and gave him a shove. “Then get your broomstick. Even if I knew how to do it again, I wouldn’t carry your heavy arse around.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Some best friend you’ve turned out to be,” he grumbled good-naturedly, his lips twitching upwards.

The Dursleys … climbing school buildings.

“Oh, dragon’s crap,” Charlie swore. “They won’t like that.”

“I’d bet,” Tonks winced.

In all the shock of Harry’s apparition/flying thing, they hadn’t thought about the Dursley’s reaction. If it had been bad when Harry’s hair had grown back and nobody but them had known about it, it was was bound to be horrible now that there were witnesses.

But all … of his cupboard)

“Again?” Sirius growled.

“Was it a week once more this time?” Remus asked, trying and failing to keep a level head.

“More or less,” Harry answered, racking a hand through his hair and refusing to look at anyone. If it had been much more more than less —like, about two weeks more than that—, nobody had to know.

“Don’t they know the kind of repercussions locking a child in such a small place can have on him?!” Madam Pomfrey shrieked, her control finally snapping.

She had tried, she had tried really hard not to say anything. Harry had spent enough time under her care to know that he would really hate to have attention drawn towards him in front of the whole school, but she had had enough.

“I’m fine, Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said soothingly, with a hint of fear in his voice. If he didn’t calm her down, she was going to drag him to the infirmary in a Body-Bind curse if she had to.

The witch pursed her lips unhappily. She was itching to check him for adverse effects that kind of environment growing up could have had on him, but she knew that he would put up a fight if she tried then.

“What if you hadn’t been fine, Harry?” Tonks asked, harsher than she had meant to. “What if there was an emergency?”

“Exactly,” Remus growled. “What if there had been a fire or something? What we’re hearing makes me doubt if they would’ve remembered that you were there.”

There were several sharp intakes of breath as people imagined this scenario. Harry would have been burnt alive (which nobody wanted to even consider) or he would have succumbed to the smoke.

“The door opened several times on its own. Sometimes I just had to lay a hand on it and it would open instantly,” Harry tried to reassure them. “I wouldn’t have got stuck in there. Besides, nothing like that ever happened.”

Every excuse Harry made to try to make it look less bad only seemed to have the opposite effect. He should be furious and upset and have a total hatred towards his relatives. Why did he seem to only fit one of these things?

was jump … in mid-jump.

“You may be a scrawny midget,” George said, trying to ignore the anger shimmering around them.

“But you’re not that light, Harrikins,” Fred finished, as determined as his twin not to make this more difficult for Harry.

“I didn’t know magic existed,” Harry defended himself.

“You could’ve said that an invisible man had given you a push,” Fred suggested, grinning amused.

“Muggles can’t turn themselves invisible,” Harry snickered. “So, it would count as magic.”

“They can’t?” George asked, a bit perplexed. “How far behind are they that they haven’t been able to find a way to turn invisible without magic?”

“You say it like it’s easy to turn yourself invisible with magic,” Hermione scoffed.

“To be fair, it is easy for the three of us,” Harry whispered so only Ron and Hermione heard him.

“Shut up, Harry. You know what I mean. Your cloak doesn’t count.”

But today, … to go wrong.

“That,” Seamus said, pointing at the book. “That’s a jinx if I ever saw one. Who wanna bet that something goes wrong?”

“No one’s gonna take that bet, Seamus,” Dean scoffed, grabbing his still raised arm to pull it down. “This is Harry we’re talking about. Trelawney wouldn’t even have to pretend to see some catastrophe in his future for it to be true.”

“It wasn’t a catastrophe,” Harry mumbled defensively.

“So, something did happen,” Dean grinned.

It was … his favourite subjects.

“Wait, that means he doesn’t like Harry?” George asked in mock-confusion.

“I thought you were his favourite nephew,” Fred huffed. “He’s led us wrong the whole time.”

“He is his favourite nephew,” a voice said, making almost everyone turn towards her.

“Luna?” Harry asked perplexed. He had to have heard her wrong. Or maybe she had been asleep the whole time they had been reading.

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled dreamily.

“Hi,” he replied absentmindedly. “You say I’m Uncle Vernon’s favourite nephew?”

Luna nodded, humming under her breath. “Of course,” she said softly. “You’re his only nephew.”

Harry released a shaky breath. “I think that he would be much happier with no nephew at all, Luna,” he said. “You can’t have a favourite anything if you don’t like either of the options.”

“Then that could mean that you’re both his favourite nephew and the one he dislikes the most, don’t you think?” She mused intrigued.

Harry blinked and tried to find the words to answer. “I suppose…”

This morning, … “It was flying.”

Ron groaned and punched Harry’s shoulder as hard as he could.

“Ouch! Hey!” Harry glared at him as he rubbed the sore spot. “What was that for?”

“Do you have a death wish or something?” Ron demanded, his ears red. “I know that you don’t think before heading into danger, but that was just asking for trouble, Harry!”

“And here I thought we’d never see little Ronnie channelling mum,” Charlie mumbled so only Bill and Tonks heard him. The three of them snickered under their breath.

“I know. I wasn’t thinking, okay?” He defended himself, inching away from Ron. He didn’t expect to receive a slap on the back of his head from his other best friend. He was beginning to feel abused. “Hermione!”

“Just checking it wasn’t empty, Harry Potter,” she said, shutting him up with a glare. “You aren’t using it much.”

“I was a kid! And I was going to the zoo for the first time! I was excited!” Harry argued, not knowing where to go to avoid being hit again. Maybe he should stand up and step away from the couch.

“Just… don’t do that, Harry,” Hermione sighed.

“I know,” he said relaxing. “You know I don’t talk to my relatives if I can help it.”

“Then keep helping it,” Ron ordered. “You have any idea how much of a hassle it’d be to avenge you if they killed you for having said something they didn’t like?”

“I feel so loved right now, Ron,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Uncle Vernon … “MOTORCYCLES DON’T FLY!”

“Mine did,” Sirius said proudly. “And it was wonderful.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Sure it was, Padfoot,” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Sirius glared at him and nearly shoved him off the couch they were sharing. “Don’t patronise me, Moony. It was wonderful and you know it.”

Nobody noticed, but the twins almost had a heart attack right there and then. Had they heard right? Had they called each other Padfoot and Moony? Could it be a coincidence?

“Gred, you don’t think…” George said quietly, so quietly that there was no chance of anyone hearing them.

“That it could be them, Feorge?” Fred finished faintly.

“A teacher?” George said, trying to picture one of those pranksters they idolized as a serious professor, even one that hadn’t been half bad like Professor Lupin.

“And a supposed maybe-innocent psycho killer that wanted to kill Harry last year?” Fred added. It was impossible to put those two images together.

They turned at the same time to look at Harry, Ron and Hermione, but the three friends were engrossed in the reading. They were going to have to ask them since they were ones that seemed to know the most about Black. If those three, especially Harry since he had been the one they had given the map to, had known the identities of the Marauders and they hadn’t told them… they better sleep with an eye open for a while now.

Dudley … might get dangerous ideas.

“They think you need help with those?” Ron snorted. “Mental. The whole lot of them.”

“My ideas aren’t dangerous,” Harry argued. “The situations I find myself into are dangerous. But I’m not there because of my ideas.”

Ron and Hermione stared at him incredulously.

“You’re joking, right?” Ron blurted out. Harry was pulling their leg, wasn’t he? … No. He looked as serious as ever.

“Harry, I don’t think you’ve gone a whole month since we met when you didn’t have a dangerous idea,” Hermione said softly but firmly.

“Not true!”

“Too true,” they replied at the same time.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Prove it. Examples needed.”

“Really? What about last year…?” Ron began.

“Ron!” Hermione cut him off.

“What?” He asked alarmed.

“Not here!” She hissed, gesturing around them, where dozens of faces filled with eager curiosity were staring at them.

“Oh,” the redhead said sheepishly.

“Don’t shut up because of us,” Dean said, waving his hand to indicate them to keep talking.

“We wanna know what idea you’re talking about,” Seamus nodded. He could think up about three or four right then and there, but he was sure that Ron and Hermione knew several more.

“No,” Harry shook his head, his jaw set stubbornly. “You’ll find out if it appears in the books.”

“And then I can point out every dangerous idea you’ve ever had,” Ron said happily. “They’ll all agree with me.”

“Shut up, Ron.”

It was … lemon ice pop.

“Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me at all,” Katie sighed a bit sadly. She huffed in surprise when a cushion hit her in the face. “Hey!” She protested, looking around for the culprit. She found him quickly when she saw Harry glaring at her with his arms crossed. “You threw a cushion at my face?” She asked indignant.

“Be happy for me! I got an ice cream!” He exclaimed. “No moping just because something went right.”

Katie gaped at him and snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Who’s sighing all dramatically because I got an ice cream?”

“I’m not sighing dramatically! And it’s not because of that!” She exclaimed, her cheeks turning pink. “You just shouldn’t have been so happy just because you got an ice cream.”

“You wanted me to sad about it?”

“No!”

“Oh, so then you would prefer if I were ungrateful?” Harry teased her.

Katie narrowed her eyes and threw the cushion back as hard as he could. “Shut up, Potter. Don’t twist my words.”

Harry caught the pillow easily and grinned amused at her.

It wasn’t … it wasn’t blond.

Bill snorted. “I’m having a hard time picturing this kid in my head. I’m trying to blend a pig and a gorilla and put a blond wig on it and the result is a bit disturbing.”

Charlie grimaced and sent his brother an odd look. “You’re a weird one, you know that?” He said with another grimace. Now he was the one who couldn’t stop trying to imagine a hybrid between a pig and a gorilla.

“If you wanted to meet the lovely Dudley Dursley, you should’ve come with to pick up Harry this summer,” George smirked.

“They can always come when we pay them another visit, brother mine,” Fred said.

“You know, Padfoot,” Remus said quietly so only his friend heard him. “These comments and little remarks Harry makes in his head. You know who they remind me of?”

Sirius frowned in confusion. “James?” He guessed. But no, that wasn’t right. James used more jokes and pranks and big gestures, not so much witty replies and sarcasm and all that.

Remus shook his head with a fond smile. “That’s all Lily and you know it,” he said. He snorted in amusement and looked at Harry. “I’m not sure if you’ve talked with him long enough to notice, but he’s much more similar to Lily even though he’s the spitting image of James.”

Sirius frowned and looked at his godson. Was he really so similar to Lily? He hadn’t noticed. He knew that he was as loyal to his friends as James had been and he got into just as much trouble, if not more. He was an amazing flyer and quidditch player, too. All that screamed James to him. It was true, though, that Remus had spent much more time with Harry than him (and he had to ignore the pang of jealousy that stung him at that thought), so maybe the werewolf knew something that he didn’t.

Harry had … of hitting him.

“They’d do that in the middle of the zoo?” Lavander asked appalled.

“I don’t think they’d have a problem with that,” Hermione scoffed, glaring at the book. “And it’s not like there aren’t places and corners to hide in a zoo.”

Harry nudged her, trying to get her to lighten up. “You think I’d let them drag me there?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “I know I don’t have your brain, Hermione, but I think even I can understand that not everybody would stand aside when they see two boys beating up another one half their size. I made sure I stuck to places where there were always people.”

Hermione blushed and elbowed him half-heartedly. “I didn’t say you didn’t know that. I meant that maybe your cousin and his friend weren’t able to figure that out and would’ve beat you up anyway.”

“Can we stop talking about people beating up Harry?” Sirius cut in, gritting his teeth.

Harry smiled bitterly. “Why? It’s not like that’ll erase what happened. And you were the one who wanted to know. I’m the one who warned you you wouldn’t like it.”

Maybe he was a bit harsh, but he was getting a little exasperated. They wanted to know, but just to know how much to beat up the Dursleys, not to help him. They demanded to know every detail, but then they didn’t want it mentioned ever again, like it had just been to satisfy their morbid curiosity and they wanted to pretend it had never happened. Well, too bad. He was not a soap opera. They had wanted to know and they had got their wish. Now they had to deal with the consequences and, since they all knew about it now, he had no qualms about making comments or jokes about it whenever he felt like it. If it made them uncomfortable, they shouldn’t have asked.

Sirius was taken aback by this. How could his godson treat this matter so lightly? This was serious. Of course, Sirius wanted to talk about it and he was going to get every detail from the kid once they finished reading for the day. He needed… He needed to know how bad it had been to make amends and to know how much he was going to torture the Dursleys. But all that would happen later, when they were in private, not with a couple of hundred of witnesses.

They ate … finish the first.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and took a deep breath to try to calm down. “Should I even bother to ask if they would’ve bought you some lunch otherwise?” She hissed.

“Probably not,” Harry said lightly.

“Yeah, I guessed that much,” the redheaded woman nodded, her expression darkening even more.

Harry felt, … good to last.

“Told you he had jinxed it,” Seamus said with a half-hearted smile.

“Nobody argued with you,” Dean huffed.

“I know. Too bad they didn’t. I would’ve won some money,” Seamus said sadly.

After lunch … was fast asleep.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ron interrupted, whirling around to stare at Harry with wide eyes. “Is this…? Was this when you…?”

Harry blinked in confusion and looked at Hermione for help. A moment later, her face lit up in comprehension like it did in class when she knew the answer to a particularly difficult question.

“You told us about it in second year, Harry,” she said eagerly, trying not to give too much away. She was acutely aware of the dozens of ears listening to their conversation.

“Oh,” he understood before laughing. “Yeah. This is it.”

Ron laughed delighted and leant forward eagerly. “Brilliant! I’ve always known you weren’t giving it the credit it deserves when you told us.”

“Told you what?” Sirius asked confused and a bit frustrated.

“You’ll see,” Harry grinned, looking at his best friend amused. “I did give it the credit it deserves, Ron.”

“I agree with Ron, Harry,” Hermione huffed. “You never know how to tell your own stories.”

“What stories?” Sirius asked again, more frustrated.

“You’ll see,” the three of them answered at the same time.

The animagus wanted to strangle them or growl in frustration. He settled for the latter. Now he understood why the Weasley girl —he thought she was called Ginny— had been so frustrated the night before when she talked about how those three never let anyone in. She was right.

“Sirius,” Remus said quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You have no reason to get angry.”

“Don’t I?” He replied in the same volume.

“No, you don’t,” the werewolf said firmly, squeezing his shoulder in warning. “We were the same, remember? We never told anyone our plans or our secrets.”

Sirius blanched. “But it’s not the same…”

“Isn’t it?”

“We… We’re Harry’s family,” Sirius argued, taking care not to raise his voice. “We were there when he was born. He…”

“Is a teenager with trust issues who loves his best friends more than anyone else in the world. I’m sure if you asked him, he would tell that he considers them his family,” Remus cut in, looking at him with pained understanding. “We were just the same, Sirius. We trusted James more than anyone else in the world.”

It hurt to be unable to say that they had trusted each other, all the Marauders, more than anyone. It would be a lie. There was a reason for why Sirius had doubted whether or not Remus could have been working for the other side or for why Remus hadn’t believed in Sirius’ innocence when he was accused. They weren’t holding it against each other since they had both made mistakes and they had been talking during the summer to reconnect and make amends, but, deep down, they doubted they would ever be able to go back to how they had been.

Meanwhile, completely oblivious to the turmoil between the two Marauders, Harry kept talking with Ron and Hermione.

“Do you think someone from the Ministry…?” He trailed off in a whisper, looking at the aurors carefully. In a way, he was glad that Crouch (the imperiused one) wasn’t here. That man had already accused him once of conjuring the Dark Mark and he had no intention of finding out what he would do with these revelations if he didn’t know them yet.

Ron’s face closed off. “Not a chance, mate,” he sneered in a way that would have mortified him in any other situation because of how similar it was to Snape.

Hermione’s eyes were sharp. “It’s not something bad. They can’t do anything even if they don’t like it. And you know how everyone else here at Hogwarts got over it. This will be the same.”

“It took them more than six months to get over it, Hermione,” Harry reminded her gently.

Hermione pursed her lips. “I really don’t think that anyone will care, Harry. But if they do,” she continued before he could interrupt her. “They can’t do anything about it either way. The oath will stop them from telling anyone about it and they won’t be able to do anything.”

Harry relaxed a little. That much was true, but it was still possible for some of the students who already knew and wouldn’t be learning it from the books to talk about it with whoever they wanted. And his mind kept going back to how Professor Lupin had had to leave the school because parents had protested. Was parseltongue as bad as lycanthropy in the wizarding world?

Dudley stood … at his father.

“As if that fat muggle will be able to force a snake to move,” Tonks snorted darkly.

“He should’ve just left it alone,” Harry said, scrunching up his nose. “The poor animal hadn’t done anything to deserve having them bothering it.”

“Merlin, Harry, was it your friend or something?” Seamus asked with a teasing grin.

“Uh, an acquaintance, more like it,” Harry admitted, deciding that it didn’t matter what he said since they were going to hear what had happened anyway.

“I thought you didn’t like snakes,” the boy tried to tease him again, but he sounded more puzzled than anything else.

“Some of them,” Harry said uncomfortably. He didn’t hate snakes, as in the animal, in general since they had never seemed that threatening to him, but he did hate many other snakes. Snape and Malfoy were at the head of that list. He couldn’t stand them.

Some people sent him funny looks, but he didn’t care. He disliked most of the Slytherin house and he made no attempt to hide it, but he didn’t hate all of them. Some of them had never made fun of him or his friends nor had they tried to curse him, so they weren’t that bad. Not that he was eager to make friends with them. He was not that crazy.

Uncle Vernon … just snoozed on.

“Doesn’t he care that he seems like a dog following his owner’s orders?” Bill asked, frustrated and angry. He simply couldn’t get over the lack of education the Dursleys were giving their son.

“I thought Malfoy was a pampered prince at home, but I’m sure his father wouldn’t tolerate to be talked like that,” Ron mumbled with a grimace. He couldn’t believe he had said something that was almost nice about Draco Malfoy of all people, but it didn’t make it any less true. Lucius Malfoy would ground his son for eternity if he tried to order him around like Dudley was doing with his father.

“This is … shuffled away.

“About time,” Dean huffed. “Now, if he could just stay gone…”

“It’s good to dream sometimes, Dean,” Harry grinned amused.

His roommate grinned unashamed and shrugged. “I could hope, you know. I don’t know how long I can stand to keep hearing about him before I start to want to pull my own hair out.”

Harry snickered. “You’re gonna have to manage. I doubt they’ll go away for a long time since I’m still living with them.”

Dean’s grin faltered for an instant before it came back, a little more forced than before. “Damn. And here I was hoping your bad luck hadn’t kicked in until you had come to Hogwarts,” he tried to joke.

Harry smiled, appreciating the effort to defuse the tension in the air.

Harry moved in … the house.

“Harry, don’t… Don’t do that,” Sirius said through gritted teeth.

Harry blinked perplexed. “Do what? I’m not doing anything.”

“Don’t compare yourself to an animal,” the animagus barked, the anger making his voice harsher than he meant to.

Harry didn’t know how to react. Part of him wanted to reach out and comfort his godfather, tell him that he was sorry for having thought that. But another part of him rebelled against doing that. He couldn’t control his thoughts and he could control even less what appeared in the books. He had warned them that they wouldn’t be pretty, that his life hadn’t been a walk in the park, and they had been the ones who had insisted on being present to listen. He wasn’t going to try to make it easier for them when they had been the stubborn ones and he wasn’t going to feel bad for them if they heard something they didn’t like.

It was kind of funny. He should be the one who should be the most upset at having his home life in the open and he was probably going to panic once he allowed himself to really think about it, but it was everyone else who was having a harder time dealing with it at the moment. It was like everybody had believed that he had the perfect home with the perfect family and no one had bothered to even consider otherwise, except for his two best friends and the twins. This was being a rude awakening for everyone else.

Even then, he could only think that, since they had wanted to know, they had to deal with the consequences themselves. They couldn’t demand of him that he didn’t think like that when it had been ingrained in him for as long as he could remember. They had no right to demand those things of him like that would fix everything that was wrong with him. Hearing that made him want to snap at Sirius and give him a piece of his mind, but he didn’t want to open that can of worms yet, not in front of anyone. He could do that later, when his godfather inevitably tried to talk to him.

The snake … winked.

Sirius blinked, snapped out of his anger as the impossibility of what he had heard sunk in.

“It what?” He asked baffled. Snakes didn’t wink. Was it even physically possible for them to wink?

“It winked,” Harry repeated, his voice inexpressive as he refused to show his fear. He hadn’t thought that his godfather may not know about him being a parselmouth. Some part of him had assumed that Professor Lupin had found out the year before and had told Sirius or something. However, one look at the werewolf revealed that he was just as surprised as the animagus.

“Snakes can’t wink,” Remus said, voicing Sirius’ thoughts.

“Well, they obviously can,” George cut in, his cheerful voice carrying a steely edge.

“Since that lovely specimen is flirting with our dear little Harrikins,” Fred said, wiping a fake tear off his eye like he was incredibly proud.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance and looked around. Only Tonks, the other Ministry officers and many of the younger students seemed surprised. They were obviously missing something important here.

Harry stared. … and winked, too.

“Oh, Feorge, did you hear that?” Fred asked tearfully.

“I did, Gred,” George nodded solemnly. “Harrikins is flirting back with the snake.”

“Soon we’ll lose him and we’ll never hear from him again.”

“He’ll find some pretty snake that’ll wink at him like this one and he’ll be charmed forever.”

Harry snorted, unconsciously relaxing at their stupid banter. It was good to see that they could still joke about him being a parselmouth like they had done when he had been in second year.

“He thinks we’re joking,” Fred said, looking at Harry mournfully.

“He won’t know what hits him when the pretty snake winks at him,” George nodded sadly. “So, we’ll have to protect him.”

“We can, can’t we? Knights riding shining dragons or whatever muggles say. That’s what we are,” Fred nodded.

“It’s knights in shining armours,” Hermione corrected them with a snicker. She was ignored.

“We won’t let the pretty snake take him away,” George declared.

“Just shut up and let us finish this,” Harry said, a fraction of his anxiety coming back.

He glanced at Sirius and Professor Lupin, who seemed confused about what was going on. They hadn’t figured out that he could speak parsel then. He was sure that their reaction wouldn’t be quiet then.

The snake … all the time.”

Tonks blinked confused and leant closer to Charlie. “That wasn’t just a look, Charlie. That snake just talked. We heard it with the spell in the book,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes at his unsurprised expression. “What do you know?”

The young man sighed tiredly. “You know why the snake just talked and we were able to hear it through the book. You don’t have to ask me.”

The metamorphmagus looked at Harry, who seemed incredibly uncomfortable, and back at her friend. “He’s a parselmouth,” she stated more than asked.

Charlie still nodded. “He is. He’s a good kid, though, Tonks,” he tried to assure her. Since he had heard, back when Ginny had come back from her first year in Hogwarts paler and thinner than usual, that Harry Potter had saved his little sister, he hadn’t even thought wrong of the boy. And now that he had met him this last summer, he knew that he genuinely liked him.

Tonks glared at him and punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could. “Of course, he is, idiot. I’ve known that since last night. I didn’t need you to tell me that, Charles Weasley. I’m not gonna judge him for talking to snakes.”

Charlie smiled in relief. “Good. From what my younger siblings told me, he had a hard few months when the rest of the school found out. Harry didn’t even know he was a parselmouth, or even what parseltongue was, until nobody dared to get close to him.”

Tonks’ eyes narrowed and she glared at all the students around her. “They did, huh?” She said, her voice as silky as a pureblood’s best robes. She had little patience with those people who shunned those who had different abilities than them since she had suffered enough of that when she had been in school.

“They got over it after a few months, but they gave him a hard time until then,” Charlie said, almost pitying those fools who had picked on Harry when he saw the look on Tonks’ face. With her bubbly and friendly personality, it was usually easy to forget that her mother was a Black.

“I think Harry’s more worried about how Black and Lupin will react than anything else,” Bill intervened. He had seen the fleeting glance his little brother’s best friend had sent the two men.

The metamorphmagus’ head snapped towards them and she studied them with narrowed eyes. “They didn’t know?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Bill shrugged, watching their confused expressions. Lupin seemed to be catching on faster than Black, but they were both being slow, like they were in denial.

Tonks pursed her lips. “I don’t really know my cousin or his friend, but they better keep it together.”

“I know,” … snake nodded vigorously.

“Y-You… You’re a parselmouth,” Sirius said stunned beyond belief.

“I am,” Harry said uncomfortable. How was he going to react?

“How can you speak parsel? Lily was a muggle-born and James was… I mean, no one in his family ever spoke parsel,” Remus said dumbfounded.

“It’s… complicated,” Harry answered evasively.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Ron snapped harshly, glaring at them to get their act together. There was nothing wrong with being shocked, but they should hurry and get to the part where they reassured Harry that they didn’t care, that there was nothing wrong with being a parselmouth. And they better get to that part, or he was going to practice every single one of the few hexes they had learnt in DADA on them.

“What? No!” Remus exclaimed offended. “You think I’d have a problem with that, knowing what I am?”

“Just checking,” Ron replied unrepentant. He turned his gaze towards Sirius. “Is there a problem?” He asked again.

The animagus blinked. “No,” he answered dumbfounded.

“Really? So, you don’t care that Harry has an ability that’s considered dark?” Hermione chipped in, sounding much too casual for her question.

“Hermione!” Harry hissed, staring at her with wide eyes. What was his best friend playing at? In fact, what were both his best friends playing at?

“Shush, Harry,” she said dismissively, not taking her eyes off the animagus. “Well? Do you care or not?”

Sirius’ gaze hardened and he glared at the girl. “I don’t! How can you…?”

“Good,” Hermione interrupted him with a nod. “Let’s not allow that to change.”

Sirius gaped at her confused. “I’d never…” How could they consider that he would care? He was friends with a werewolf and his family was as dark as anyone could get without becoming Voldemort, and some members still came awfully close.

Harry, meanwhile, was staring at Hermione with exasperation and fondness. “You’re impossible.”

“And you had to see that they wouldn’t care to believe it,” she replied simply, shooting him a smile.

“Where … Harry asked.

“Of all the things to ask a snake, and you ask it where it’s from?” Lee Jordan asked, rolling his eyes.

“What would you have asked then?” Harry asked defensively.

Lee blushed. “Me? I’m not the one who can talk with snakes, Harry,” he spluttered.

“Right,” Harry rolled his eyes.

The snake … it nice there?”

“You always were a weirdo, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, but it lacked his usual bite. Even he was having trouble getting over the truth of Potter’s home life.

“Bugger off, Malfoy!” Ron snapped harshly. “Not a word against Harry!”

“I don’t see why not,” the blond replied. “Nobody knows what happened in second year. For all we know, he could’ve been the culprit of everything and he could’ve simply pretended to fix it to avoid having to go back to those muggles.”

Harry unconsciously shrunk a little bit. That was way too close to what Tom Riddle had done to get away with it more than fifty years beforehand. Could more people think that he would do that? Was he that similar to that monster?

“How dare you?!” Fred saw red. “Who do you think you are to say something like that?!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, his best friend is a muggle-born, you prick!” George shouted, gripping his wand tightly. He wanted to hex him so badly.

“And look how she ended up,” Malfoy pressed on smugly. He loved being able to rile these people up like this. “Not that I’m surprised. A mudblood like her…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. A red beam of light hit him in the face with so much strength that the armchair he was sitting on toppled over and the blond ended up tangled in his own robes on the floor. Everyone turned in the direction the beam had come from and saw a very, very angry Harry Potter standing up with his wand raised.

“Don’t you dare, Malfoy,” he hissed, sending shivers down everyone’s spines. “I can put up with you saying whatever about me or about how I speak parsel. I don’t care.”

Malfoy was staring at him from the floor, not daring to stand up again, and the rest were gaping at the black-haired boy. Some had been about to get their wands out to hex the blond themselves for the insult, but Harry had been faster than them. Now they were watching stunned as he trembled in rage after hearing the insult towards his friend when he had been stoically enduring the onslaught of rude comments towards himself an instant before.

“But don’t you dare call Hermione that again,” Harry kept talking. He held so much anger inside that sparks flew out of his wand. “I hear you calling her that again and you’re gonna get much more than a Disarming Spell to the face. And you suggest one more time that I’d ever hurt her, or anyone, like that, and we’re gonna get that duel you chickened out of three years ago, you understand?”

Once he was sure that his message had got across, he sat back down again and sighed. He looked up when he felt Hermione grab his right hand and squeeze it tightly.

“Thank you, Harry,” she muttered, a touch smile on her face at the blatant show of affection on his part. She knew that Harry was always much quicker to rise to the defence of someone he cared about than when he was the one being picked on.

Harry smiled in return. “I would’ve tried the spell Ron used last time, but I didn’t wanna risk ending up burping slugs like he did.”

Ron’s ears went red. “Yeah. Not a good experience. Besides, watching Malfoy fall like that was almost as good as seeing him as a bouncing ferret.”

They shared amused glances. That was a good memory, even now that they knew that it had been a Death Eater who had hexed Malfoy.

The boa … been to Brazil?”

“It’s kind of surreal to hear him talk with a snake like that, isn’t it?” Bill grinned amused.

“You mean how he’s talking with an animal about where it’s from?” Charlie asked sarcastically. “You don’t think that’s normal?”

“I’d like to be able to do that,” Tonks pouted.

“I think what you can do is much better,” Harry snorted. “It’s certainly more useful.”

“Not always,” Luna intervened, smiling softly. “Harry, if you have some time when we can get out of here, my father’s writing an article about snakes and he could use some help.”

Harry almost choked on his own spit. “You want my help with an article about snakes?” He asked disbelievingly.

“Well, it’d be terribly convenient to have someone who could understand them when they answer our questions,” the blond girl nodded.

“You’re interrogating snakes?” Ron asked perplexed. Was he dreaming? Was this going to be a nightmare or just some weird-arse dream?

Luna nodded with a soft smile on her face. “Of course. How else would we prove that many snakes were people in another life?”

“People in another life?” The redhead repeated, his eyebrows rising to his hairline. The option of the weird-arse dream was winning more points. He didn’t know whether to laugh or not. This girl was mental.

“That’s not…” Hermione began with a frown.

“I don’t mind helping,” Harry cut her off. He had no wish to hear them arguing with each other and he knew, from what little he had talked with Luna, that the younger girl could be just as set in her ideas as Hermione. He feared that an argument between them could be as long as one between Ron and Hermione.

“Thank you, Harry,” Luna smiled brightly.

“Who is she?” Fred asked, looking at the girl half like she was crazy and half like Christmas had come early.

“No clue,” George shrugged. He too was staring at the girl pensively. Her ideas may be crazy, but it was always the craziest ones that were the greatest. “Harry seems to know her, though. We can ask him later.”

As the … WHAT IT’S DOING!”

“Oh, shut up!” Fred groaned.

“We wanted to hear more about the boa constrictor!” George agreed.

“It was awfully friendly,” Luna said, surprising many people. She seemed disappointed that she couldn’t get more information about snakes.

“Don’t worry, Luna,” Harry tried to cheer her up. “You can ask another snake later and I’ll translate.” He couldn’t believe he had just offered that, but the girl had helped him earlier and he liked her.

Luna smiled brightly. “Thank you, Harry,” she repeated her words from earlier.

“And we’ll, of course, be there to ask some questions ourselves,” George said, almost rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“George, Harry’s not a walking translator for you to use when you want,” his mother chided him.

“But, mum, Harry would never deny us this opportunity, would you, Harry?” Fred asked, staring at the black-haired boy hopefully.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I s’ppose it doesn’t matter a few more questions,” he gave in. He sent the twins a pointed look. “You two owe me one.”

“Of course, Harrikins,” George nodded, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Your wish is our command,” Fred nodded eagerly. They were going to have so much fun with this.

“Mine too,” Luna said.

“What?” Harry said, his eyes widening. “No, Luna, don’t… It’s okay. It’s because they aren’t gonna use what they learn for an article like your father. I don’t mind helping you.”

“Oh,” the girl blinked. “Well, if you’re sure, Harry.”

Dudley … on the concrete floor.

Harry had the air knocked out of him by surprise, leaving him a bit wide-eyed. His hand automatically flew to his ribs where he had felt his cousin’s hit. This connection with the books sure was weird.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, having felt the boy’s flinch. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Harry nodded, the shock gone. “I just forgot about the connection or the link or whatever.”

“You felt that?” Ron asked, glaring at the book. He was going to kill whoever had made those books and had linked them to his best friend.

“It was nothing,” Harry rolled his eyes at the overprotective gazes he could feel directed his way. “I’ve been hit harder during a quidditch match and you all know it.”

“That doesn’t help much, you know? Not when we know you’re probably gonna relive those matches,” Dean said, trying to hide his concern.

Harry looked at him sheepishly and racked a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

What came … howls of horror.

“What?” Katie asked, distracted from the different ways she could hurt the Dursleys and get away with it. If she got the team’s help, she would certainly have a better chance of making them regret it more.

“Howls of horror?” Mrs. Weasley asked nervously.

“What happened?” Mr. Weasley asked.

“Nothing bad,” Harry assured them with a grin of anticipation. This had been good.

Seeing him like that went a long way making everyone relax. If he was happy and amused, it couldn’t have been that bad. The muggles must have been exaggerating.

Harry sat … tank had vanished.

The gasps of surprise were soon swallowed by the noise of the roars of laughter. It was about time those bullies got the scare they deserved.

“The vanishing glass,” Percy gasped in understanding.

“Uh?” Harry frowned in confusion.

“It was the title of the chapter. The vanishing glass,” Hermione explained.

“Oh. Well, it was a fitting title,” the boy grinned amused.

“It is,” Percy nodded in agreement. “It makes so much sense now that we’ve heard the whole story.”

Harry sent him an odd look, but he decided not to ask why it wouldn’t. Asking Percy a question usually led to a long lecture about something he wasn’t interested in.

“Not bad,” Angelina smiled proudly. She felt like an older sister whose little brother had done something great. “Vanishing Spells aren’t easy even when they’re used on inanimate objects.”

“What were you thinking, Harry, freeing a snake in the zoo?” Hermione asked, half exasperated and half amused.

“The poor animal had been in a cage its whole life. It deserved to get out for a while and Dudley annoyed me enough for my magic to do it,” Harry grinned unrepentant. “I didn’t want my cousin to hit the crystal again and I wanted her to be free and go to Brazil.”

“And if someone had got hurt?” The girl asked, trying to remain stern and failing miserably.

“Nobody did,” Harry shrugged.

“C’mon, Hermione,” Ron whined. “Can’t you just enjoy it? Harry’s cousin and that friend of his deserved it. Besides, it’s called accidental magic for a reason. Harry couldn’t control it.”

The girl gave in with a sigh. She couldn’t argue with that logic.

The great snake … Thanksss, amigo.”

“Merlin’s pants, it’s so weird to understand a snake,” Seamus said with a giddy grin.

“Even when we can understand it, it still sounds like it hisses,” Alicia said in awe. She had never imagined that it could be like that.

Ron was grinning from ear to ear. He shoved his best friend lightly. “Told you you weren’t doing it justice. This is so much better than you told us.”

“Is it?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, but his lips quirked upwards.

“It’s certainly much more entertaining,” Hermione agreed with the redhead. “And you never told us that you vanished the glass keeping it trapped.”

“I didn’t think it was that important,” Harry shrugged.

The keeper … the glass go?”

“It disappeared,” Fred said in a hushed voice.

“It was like magic,” George nodded seriously, making people snort in amusement.

“Technically, I think we could say that the glass went into nonbeing. Or everything, if you prefer,” Luna answered with a pensive expression on her face.

“What?” The twins asked confused.

“Well answered, Ms. Lovegood,” Flitwick congratulated his student proudly.

“What are they talking about?” Ron asked bewildered. In fact, almost everyone seemed just as confused.

“It’s a theory about where Vanished objects go,” Hermione explained, mulling it in her head.

“Nowhere,” the redhead said confused. “They disappear. You vanish them and they disappear. That’s how the spell goes if it’s done right, doesn’t it?”

The girl sighed in exasperation. “But everything has to go somewhere, Ron. Many wizards and witches have theorized about where.”

“Why does it matter?” Ron replied. “What matters is that they aren’t where you don’t want them anymore.”

“It matters,” she replied firmly, glaring at him before he dared to argue. “it’s a fascinating topic to investigate.”

Harry sighed and intervened before this could develop into a full-blown argument in the middle of the Great Hall. “And how do you know all this, Hermione?” He asked, hoping it would distract them.

The girl’s cheeks turned pink. “Professor McGonagall mentioned the other day in class that we would be learning the Vanishing Spell next year and that it’s one of the most difficult ones we will have to learn. So, I decided to read a little in advance to be prepared.”

Harry was staring at her in amused exasperation, not surprised at all, while Ron had horror painted all over his face. Everyone else was just gaping at the girl.

“You’re already studying for the spells we’re gonna learn next year? What? All the work we have to do this year is not enough for you?” Ron asked horrified. “No, wait. You know what? I’m not even surprised. You’re probably already reading ahead for the N.E.W.T.s or something.”

Hermione blushed (nobody had to know that the redhead was right) and glared at him. “There’s nothing wrong with being prepared, Ron,” she argued heatedly. “Maybe if you did the same, you wouldn’t be behind with your homework all the time.”

Ron’s ears turned red. “I’m not behind all the time!” He replied, even as he knew that it was mostly a lie. The only time he wasn’t behind was the first week of school and this year had already broken that rule.

“Why don’t we keep reading?” Harry intervened. He hadn’t meant for another argument to start when he had asked Hermione that question. He should have known that Ron would manage to put his foot in his mouth and annoy Hermione somehow.

The zoo … weren’t you, Harry?”

There was an explosion of swears and curses aloud.

“That little snot brat! He just had to open his mouth and say that, didn’t he?” Ron ranted. “Nobody asked him! And he’s got Harry in trouble!”

“Like it was the first or the last time I’ve got into trouble, Ron,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“He could certainly use a couple of lessons on when to keep his trap shut, couldn’t he, Gred?” George asked, his eyes dark with anger.

“And a few about when not to stick his nose in other people’s business, Feorge,” Fred agreed.

“Maybe we could take it away until he learns,” George mused.

“That would make him learn quickly, wouldn’t it?” Fred nodded.

“You’re not taking that boy’s nose,” their mother cut in firmly. As angry as she was with that boy, he didn’t really know how much trouble he had got Harry into.

“Maybe an arm or a leg then?” Fred didn’t let up.

“We could conjure a snake and allow Harry to set it on him. That would give him a chance to get his revenge,” George suggested, only half joking.

“I’m not gonna set a snake on anyone,” Harry rolled his eyes. He refused to use that ability to scare anybody. It scared people enough on its own without using it like that.

“Pity,” Fred shrugged, not wanting to push him.

“But better for us. Now we can get revenge on his behalf,” George said with a mischievous smirk.

Uncle Vernon … a large brandy.

“No meals?! What did he mean no meals?!” Molly roared incensed. “He can’t leave a growing boy without food!”

It was no wonder that Harry always seemed to eat much less than any of her children, even Ginny, if he had had meals withheld from him. She was going to have to watch him closer to make sure that he ate enough. He was too skinny as it was.

“Mr. Potter, I think you’re gonna have to come with me to the infirmary when we finish reading for the day,” Madam Pomfrey intervened. Her eyes were smouldering with rage and she had to curl her hands into fists to stop their shaking.

“What? Madam Pomfrey, this happened years ago!” Harry protested horrified. “I’m fine!”

“It was bad enough that you were kept in a small space like a cupboard for years, Mr. Potter. That could have grave consequences. But withholding meals…” She trailed off, her lips pulled back in a snarl that few people had ever seen on her face. She gritted her teeth and made an effort not to snap at the boy. “It’s my duty as the nurse in this school to make sure that the students are healthy. I have to make sure that there was no lasting damage or anything that we can’t reverse.”

“But, Madam Pomfrey, you don’t have to check anything. I’m fine,” he repeated.

“No excuses,” she replied in a no-nonsense voice. “You’re coming with me tonight before you go up to your common room. I have to see if it’s necessary for you to spend the night in the infirmary. And don’t even think about trying to sneak away, Mr. Potter. Don’t make me go look for him to the tower.”

“But…” He said horrified. Spend the night in the infirmary for something that had happened more than three years prior? No way.

“No buts,” she interrupted firmly, fixing him with a steely look until the boy gave in.

“I can’t believe this…” Harry grumbled under his breath, staring at the hands in his lap.

“It’s for the best, Harry,” Remus said, trying to smile at him. It was difficult, though, when he couldn’t help but keep thinking about how Harry hadn’t been allowed to eat. “We just want to make sure that you’re alright.”

“I am alright,” the boy huffed.

“Do it for our peace of mind then,” the werewolf pleaded.

“It’s certainly not gonna be for mine,” Harry scowled quietly. He knew he was being rude, but, quite frankly, he didn’t care. Nobody had cared for years and now he was supposed to be a good little boy and do as they said for their peace of mind. Even Sirius had said earlier that neither of his parents had been as small as him so they all knew that the Dursleys care had left its mark.

“Harry…” Sirius frowned when he saw Remus’ face fall. He knew that the boy was angry and, knowing how he had been treated by his relatives, he didn’t blame him. But he didn’t have to pay his frustration and anger with them.

“Think they’ll manage to find a way to make you… not a midget anymore?” Ron interrupted the animagus, completely ignoring him. He knew Harry had every right to be angry with the adults right then. A check-up wasn’t going to fix anything except their curiosity. What Harry needed was for someone to heal any injuries he had, and he didn’t have any more, and several good meals until he could grow an appetite and he put some meat on those bones.

Harry glared at him without heat. “I’m not a midget.”

“Not a midget?” Fred said when he saw Sirius open his mouth again. He agreed with what his little brother was doing here. They were all being morons dealing with all these revelations and they weren’t going to take it lying down.

“A squirt then?” George added before his mum could say something.

“Not a squirt either,” Harry protested, but it had no bite. He was more grateful that they were guarding off all the comments and questions than annoyed with their teasing.

“He’s says he’s not a squirt, Feorge,” Fred said with fake seriousness.

“Then he’s delusional on top of a squirt, Gred,” George said. “A delusional squirt. That’s what he is.”

“If you’ve finished this discussion,” Hermione intervened when she saw the adults desist in their attempts to talk with Harry. It had taken them long enough. “We should continue reading if we want to finish any time this year.”

“Uh-oh. Our favourite bookworm is getting impatient,” George teased her.

“We better run before she throws a book at us,” Fred grinned.

“Think they have a death wish?” Ron muttered, leaning closer to Harry so only his best friend heard him. They were both watching warily the glare Hermione was sending the twins. They were so going to get it if they didn’t stand down soon.

Fortunately, they did. Maybe they sensed the danger or maybe it was just a coincidence but at least they didn’t end up hexed.

Harry lay in … some food.

“How would you? They locked you in, didn’t they?” Tonks asked bitterly.

“I told you before. The door opened even when they did that,” Harry sighed tiredly. “It didn’t always happen at first, but then I could simply touch it and it would swing open.”

They gaped at him. They couldn’t believe this boy, talking so calmly about doing wandless magic before he had even known that magic existed.

“B-But what did your relatives said when they found the door open?” Neville dared to ask wide-eyed.

“It always closed again when I went back inside,” Harry shrugged. “It worked the same way. I touched it and it would be locked again.”

“Wicked,” Dean grinned widely. He wished he could do the same, but he doubted it.

“Did he… Did he just say that he could perform wandless and silent spells before he came to Hogwarts?” Flitwick stuttered wide-eyed. Never mind that they were simple first-year spells. It was an amazing feat.

“I-I think he just did,” McGonagall said with a hand on her chest in shock.

Snape was just as surprised, but he refused to show it. He was trying not to think about how Lily had manipulated her magic to a certain degree, too, making a flower open and close and flying off the swing. He didn’t want to think that this was something else the boy had in common with his mother. He wanted to keep believing that the brat was just like his father. He needed to keep believing that.

“Do you think he could have controlled his magic in other ways?” Flitwick asked, the shock turning into awe and giddiness. Oh, how he would enjoy helping Harry learn how to do spells wandlessly and silently like that. The boy would be a force to be reckoned with if he could accomplish that and, from what the letter had said, he would need every advantage he could get.

“I have no idea,” McGonagall said breathlessly. “But he should certainly try to do it more if he can.”

“It would help him enormously,” Sprout nodded, her thoughts going in the same direction Flitwick’s had gone earlier.

He’d lived … that car crash.

Any remaining awe at Harry’s wandless casting vanished at the remainder of the lie the child had believed for so long, for most of his life in fact. It was unconceivable, but it was the harsh truth. That fact alone was enough to want to throttle the Dursleys and make them suffer.

There were many things you shouldn’t lie to children about and the truth about their parents was the ahead of the list, especially when they had been murdered and everyone knew about it. It made their blood boil to think about how ignorant Harry had been about his own story because of the Dursleys.

He couldn’t … on his forehead.

There was a collective sharp intake of breath as the words sank in.

He remembered his parents’ death?

No, that couldn’t be possible… But, looking at his pained expression, no one could think that it wasn’t true. It didn’t matter that he should have been too young to remember something like that.

“You remember that?” Sirius asked. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Harry made an uncommitted sound. He didn’t want to confess that he remembered much more now, that he remembered their last words now and he now knew exactly what the curse that had killed them looked like. It was something that only Ron and Hermione knew in detail and Professor Lupin to some degree, unless he had told Sirius.

“How’s that possible?” McGonagall asked breathless. She felt like she had had the air knocked out of her.

“The mind is a curious thing, Minerva,” Albus answered quietly. “Memories can only be erased with magic, not with time. Time can bury them deep down, but there’s always the possibility that they’ll come forth for some reason.”

“Poor boy,” Sprout said, her voice muffled by the hand over her mouth. He didn’t deserve this.

This, … them in the house.

“You didn’t know how they looked like?” Angelina muttered horrified. She was having a hard time not staring at him with pity.

Harry gritted his teeth, hating every pitying look directed his way. “I didn’t even know their names until I received my letter from Hogwarts,” he said, more harshly than he had meant to. He felt a pang of regret when he saw her flinch and he softened. “I’m sorry, Angelina.”

“Don’t worry,” she shook her head. “I get it.” She didn’t, not really, but Harry didn’t want her to anyway and neither did she.

“I know how they look like now,” Harry said softly, smiling when she relaxed a little. “I found out during the Christmas holidays of my first year and I have photos of them now. Hagrid gave them to me at the end of my first year.”

The older girl sighed in relief. “Good,” was all she could say. If she said anything else, she was going to go try to curse the Dursleys. She was probably going to help the Weasley twins with whatever plan they came up with in any way she could.

The conversation had helped calm everyone down a little, but the tension was still high in the Great Hall. They didn’t know why they kept getting surprised by everything the Dursleys did, but they somehow did. How could anyone deny a child the right to know their parents’ names or how they looked like?

When he … his only family.

“I think we should be offended, Feorge,” Fred said with forced levity.

“I think so, too, Gred. After so long and this thick-headed dunderhead still doesn’t get it,” George shook his head sadly.

Harry looked at them half amused and half confused. Why should they be offended? What wasn’t he getting?

Ron rolled his eyes and slapped the back of his head. “You’re family, idiot,” he huffed. And people said he was the one who had the emotional capability of a brick. Maybe he should ask his parents if they could add a hand to the clock for Harry so his best friend got it.

Harry ducked his head. He didn’t know how to react. What was he supposed to say when someone told him that he was family? Likewise? You too? Thank you?

“You’re a Weasley now,” Bill grinned at the younger boy. He had no problem having another sibling. What was one more when he had six already? Besides, Harry had saved his little sister and he spent half the summer with them so, as far as he was concerned, he was already an honorary Weasley. Heck, he had heard the twins and Ginny refer to Ron’s room as Ron and Harry’s room.

“The first not redheaded Weasley,” Charlie grinned, enjoying the boy’s shy embarrassment immensely.

Hermione grabbed his hand, smiling kindly at him when he looked at her blushing. She had already told him before that he was like a brother to her. She didn’t need to repeat again for him to know.

Sirius watched all this not knowing what to feel. He was ecstatic that his godson had so many wonderful people that cared about him so much, but a small part of him couldn’t help but think ‘what about Remus and I?’. They had been his family first, even if Harry didn’t remember it, and now… now Harry didn’t seem to need them. A selfish part of him wanted to grab Harry and shout that they were his family, that there was no need for him to be a Weasley because he had them, but the shy and pleased smile on Harry’s face stopped him. The boy hadn’t looked like that when he had asked Harry to come live with him at the end of the previous school year. Did Harry prefer to live with the Weasleys rather than with him? What was he going to do about it? Why did he feel like he was losing his godson even when he was just a few feet away?

Remus ignored the pang in his chest at Harry’s expression. One look at Sirius’ face told him that the animagus was thinking along the same lines as him. However, he could understand where Harry was coming from. The boy hadn’t known them for more than a year while the Weasleys were his best friend’s family and he had probably spent many holidays with them. Of course, the group of redheads (and the bushy-haired girl sitting next to him. Let’s not forget about her) were family to Harry. It hurt to think that Harry was probably never going to call them Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot like he would have had things gone differently, but they couldn’t change the past. They could only try to show Harry that they considered him family, too, and that they wanted to be there for him like the Weasleys were.

Yet … seemed to know him.

“Wizards for sure,” Seamus said.

“And witches,” Parvati glared at him.

“And witches,” he hastily corrected himself. Merlin, girls could be scary when they wanted to be. He had just said wizards in general, as in ‘people with magic’, but that was much longer to say.

Very strange strangers … closer look.

“I can’t believe it,” Katie huffed. “Were they trying to make you question your sanity?”

“There’s no sanity to question, Katie,” George said teasingly.

“Harry’s gone crazy a long time ago,” Fred smirked at the boy even when he was talking to the girl.

“I’m not crazy,” Harry denied vehemently.

“Maybe a little, Harry,” Hermione said, grinning a bit.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” Ron contradicted him.

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Boys,” Molly stopped them exasperated.

“Sorry, mum,” Ron said automatically

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said at the same time. He waited until she looked away before elbowing his best friend and hissing under his breath, “Are not.”

Ron glared at him, rubbing the sore spot in his ribs. He didn’t have a chance of replying because his mother was staring at them suspiciously again while Harry was the vivid picture of innocence. Oh, he didn’t know how people could think that Harry was innocent and a good and polite little boy, but he knew that the black-haired boy could be as devious as the twins when he wanted to be.

At school, … with Dudley’s gang.

“We were your first friends?” Ron asked quietly, his annoyance with his best friend already gone. Now, seeing him nod and stare at his lap, he only felt a lump in his throat. “You were my first friend, too,” he blurted out without thinking. He just wanted Harry to stop looking so… ashamed or whatever.

Harry’s head snapped up in surprise. “We were?” He asked, taking care to keep his voice quiet so his conversation stayed as private as possible.

“Mine too,” Hermione confessed in a whisper.

“Really?” Ron asked surprised.

The witch didn’t know how to react to that. Maybe she should be glad that he was surprised since that meant that he couldn’t understand how no one had wanted to be her friend before. But both Harry and Ron should get it if they thought about how she had been before they had saved her from the troll.

Harry grinned amused. “So, you’re saying that we’re all a band of misfits?” He asked, finding it funny for some reason.

Ron rolled his eyes and shoved him away. “Shut up, Harry.”

“If I could have everyone’s attention for a moment, please,” Flitwick’s voice interrupted them. “We’ve finished the first chapter,” he announced, pointing at the floating book, which was glowing with a yellow light.

“Should we continue with the next one then?” Dumbledore asked calmly, his eyes twinkling. He ignored all the stares in his direction, knowing that many people wanted to talk to him about his decision of leaving Harry with the Dursleys. They would have to wait until they finished reading for the day, though, and they were somewhere private. “We haven’t been reading for long so I think that we can wait for a while yet before we take a break, don’t you think?”

“I don’t have a problem wiz zat,” Madame Maxime nodded her agreement. She was shocked at the treatment the Boy-Who-Lived had received and she was certainly going to have words with Dumbledore, but she knew it was not the time nor the place for that.

“The sooner we finish this, the better,” Karkaroff said with a bored voice. He just wanted to get back to the Triwizard Tournament.

“Well, then,” Flitwick nodded, flicking his wand in the book’s direction. It glowed green for an instant as the next page turned.

Chapter Text

The letters from no one

“If I could have everyone’s attention for a moment,” Flitwick’s voice interrupted them. “We’ve finished the first chapter,” he announced, pointing at the floating book, which was glowing with a yellow light.

“Should we continue with the next one then?” Dumbledore asked calmly, his eyes twinkling. He ignored all the stares in his direction, knowing that many people wanted to talk to him about his decision of leaving Harry with the Dursleys. They would have to wait until they finished reading for the day, though, and they were somewhere private. “We haven’t been reading for long so I think that we can wait for a while yet before we take a break, don’t you think?”

“I don’t have a problem wiz zat,” Madame Maxime nodded her agreement. She was shocked at the treatment the Boy-Who-Lived had received and she was certainly going to have words with Dumbledore, but she knew it was not the time nor the place for that.

“The sooner we finish this, the better,” Karkaroff said in a bored tone. He just wanted to get back to the Triwizard Tournament.

“Well, then,” Flitwick nodded, flicking his wand in the book’s direction. It glowed green for an instant as the next page turned.

The letters from no one

“Letters from no one?” Neville blurted out without thinking. He went beet red when all the attention turned towards him.

“How can letters be from no one?” Dean asked. “They have to be from someone, right?”

“But it says they’re from no one?” Lavender pointed out with a confused frown.

“And whose letters would Harry receive?” Katie asked baffled. As far as she had understood it, no one from the wizarding world had bothered to check on Harry, so it didn’t make sense for anyone to send him letters.

“Maybe it’s the letter from Hogwarts,” Hermione said pensively. “He’s about to turn eleven in the story, so he has to get it any moment now.”

“But then they wouldn’t be letters from no one. They would be from Hogwarts,” Seamus pointed out.

Hermione sent him an irritated look. “Harry would have no idea what Hogwarts was and letters from the school don’t have a remittent or a stamp.”

“They don’t have a what or a what now?” Ron asked puzzled.

“Oh! I remember stamps!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed enthusiastically. “They’re such a curious thing.”

“Arthur, dear, not now,” Molly sighed, grabbing his hand and squeezing it to try to calm him down.

“Even if it was the letter from Hogwarts, it says letters. As in, more than one. Why would Harry receive more than one letter from Hogwarts?” Dean asked, looking at his roommate in search for answers. If anyone had them, it would be him.

Harry smiled innocently, but his eyes were dancing with mirth. This was going to be a funny chapter with the odyssey his uncle had put them through for nothing.

“Harry?” Hermione asked with narrowed eyes. “Something you wanna share?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, his smile widening. “You’ll see. It didn’t end badly. I promise.”

“That doesn’t exactly reassure us, mate,” Ron muttered under his breath. All the mishaps they had got themselves into had ended well, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t been scary or they couldn’t have ended very differently.

The escape of the Brazilian boa … the summer holidays had started

“So, a couple of weeks then in that damn cupboard?” Hermione asked seething. She usually wasn’t one for swearing, but she was so pissed.

“More or less. There were a couple of weeks till my birthday,” Harry shrugged, eyeing her warily. Anyone who didn’t think that Hermione wasn’t scary hadn’t met her when she was angry. And right then she looked ready to go on a war path.

Hermione gritted her teeth, but she didn’t say anything else. She would make those people pay when they got out. Until then, she would plot her revenge on her brother’s behalf.

and Dudley had already broken … Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

“You weren’t lying when you said that he breaks his presents quickly,” Katie observed with a wince.

“What’s a the mote control plate?” Mr. Weasley asked curiously.

“A what?” Harry asked confused. He wasn’t the only one. Many muggle-borns wore similar expressions.

“Are you talking about the remote control airplane, Mr. Weasley?” Hermione guessed after a moment thinking.

The man brightened. “Yes! Exactly!”

“Honey, why don’t we wait till the break and then you can ask them questions?” Molly intervened, putting a hand on his arm.

“Mrs. Weasley’s right. We’ll never finish reading otherwise,” Tonks said.

“Call me Molly, dear,” the redhead smiled at her.

The metamorphmagus grinned. “Call me Tonks, please. Never Nymphadora,” she replied happily.

Molly’s smile widened before she turned back to her husband. “So, Arthur, can we leave all those questions for later?”

“Sure, honey,” he agreed easily. He looked at Harry and Hermione. “Do you…?”

“We don’t mind, Mr. Weasley,” Harry assured him. Hermione was better than him at explaining things, but he could try to help.

“Of course not,” Hermione said in agreement.

Harry was glad school was over, … the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader.

“I don’t think that rule is right in every occasion,” Ron said. He was staring at Malfoy and his two goons with a smirk.

“Something you want to say, Weasley?” Malfoy snapped, glaring at him.

“Just wondering who the leader of your little group should be according to that rule. Crabbe or Goyle?” Ron smirked sharply.

“Ron,” Hermione chided exasperated. She didn’t want to get into a fight that day.

“What? It’s true. They’re about the same size, so I think Goyle would be the leader. He’s stupider,” Ron said.

“Ron!” His mother scolded scandalised.

“Sorry, mum,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

The rest of them were all quite happy … Harry Hunting.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” George said sarcastically.

“They’re so unoriginal,” Fred scoffed, rolling his eyes. “They didn’t invent that game.”

“Exactly. You-Know-Who and his merry band have been playing that game since long before them,” George nodded.

“They’re just copying them,” Fred said.

“George! Fred!” Molly hollered. How could they joke about something like that? Why did all her sons do things like that?

“We’re just saying,” Fred said, raising his hands defensively.

Harry snorted and grinned. He loved how the twins managed to joke about things that other people found worrying, like they had done with the whole business about the heir of Slytherin. He would have gone crazy then if it hadn’t been because of the humour they added to the situation.

“It’s not funny,” Sirius growled.

“It’s a bit funny,” Harry contradicted him with a shrug.

“Why do you find it funny?” The animagus asked frustrated.

“Why don’t you?” Harry replied.

“It’s your safety!”

Harry snorted. “Dudley and his friends weren’t gonna kill me.”

“They still hurt you,” Sirius insisted stubbornly.

“When they could catch me, which I’ve already said wasn’t often,” Harry reminded him. “Think of it as practice for what we’d see when I arrived to Hogwarts.”

“Mate, you’re not helping yourself saying that,” Ron said, nudging him with his elbow.

“They’re gonna know sooner or later,” Harry shrugged.

“Can we leave it for later then? It means less time with my mum angry at us,” Ron asked. He was eyeing her warily, not liking the way she was narrowing her eyes at them.

Harry snorted once more. “Okay,” he agreed.

This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out … see a tiny ray of hope.

“The end of the holidays brings a ray of hope?” Angelina repeated sceptically. “Since when? You wanna go to school?”

“Didn’t you say before that you were happy that the school was over?” Seamus asked his roommate with a frown.

“Because that meant I didn’t have to see Dudley 24/7,” Harry answered, looking at Seamus. Then he turned towards Angelina. “But the following year I wouldn’t be going to the same class as Dudley anymore.”

“He was thrown out?” Dean asked hopefully. “I mean, he’s eleven and he can’t add two. There’s no way they’re allowing him to pass grade.”

“They did,” Harry said.

“Then you were thrown out?” Dean asked with a frown.

Harry sent him a deadpan look. “You think that Dudley would pass and I wouldn’t?” He asked. He was offended, and more than a little insulted. He wasn’t going to lie.

Dean scrunched up his nose. “No. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

When September came he … was going to Stonewall High, the local public school.

“Stonewall High? What about Hogwarts?” Neville asked. He went beet red when the attention was focused on him.

“I didn’t know I’d be going there,” Harry shrugged. “I didn’t know that magic existed, remember?”

“Oh,” Neville said embarrassed.

“I bet those relatives of yours wouldn’t want you to learn to control your magic,” Fred smirked sharply.

“They’d be terrified you’d retaliate for everything they’ve put you through,” George agreed.

“They were,” Harry grinned, remembering all the scares he had given Dudley before they had found out that he wasn’t allowed to use magic outside of school.

“That’s why it would’ve been much better for them if they had been kind to you,” Luna said softly. “If they had been your family, you wouldn’t have wanted to get revenge.”

“I don’t wanna get revenge,” Harry denied.

“You don’t?” Ron blurted out.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I’d be happy simply never seeing them again.”

He didn’t want to hurt them like they had hurt him. He didn’t want to stoop down to their level of pettiness. He just wanted the time when they would follow different paths to arrive already.

Dudley thought this was very funny.

“Is it?” Fred frowned.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about it either,” George scoffed.

“The joke will be on him when Harry comes back knowing magic,” Fred grinned. “Let’s see if he dares to mess with Harry then.”

George’s smirk caused shivers to go down the spines of many people. “Now, that will be fun to watch.”

“We won’t watch it,” Lee Jordan chipped in.

“Shut it, Lee,” Fred replied.

“We’ll hear it, and we have a wild imagination,” George said dismissively. “That’s even better.”

“They stuff people’s heads down the toilet … upstairs and practice?”

“So little originality,” George moaned.

“Couldn’t he come up with something better?” Fred said, shaking his head sadly.

Hermione frowned. “I have to agree with you two. That’s the classic bullying act all bullies do.”

The twins gaped at her.

“Did we hear that right?” Fred gasped in mock-surprise.

“Did our little future perfect prefect agree with us?” George asked. “What’s the world coming into?”

“Oh, shut up,” she replied, blushing a little bit.

“They aren’t wrong,” Ron intervened. “I mean, first, we find out that you don’t think the library’s some kind of heaven. And now you’re agreeing with Fred and George.”

“Shut up, Ron,” she glared at him, blushing even more.

“And now’s the time when you listen to her and shut up,” Harry said, elbowing his best friend and sending him a pointed look.

Ron closed his mouth and smiled sheepishly. “Am I about to put my foot in my mouth?”

“Most definitely,” Harry nodded firmly. He didn’t know what Ron was going to say, but he was sure that it was going to be something that would either embarrass, annoy or anger Hermione. Or maybe all three.

Ron leant forward to look at Hermione, who had her eyes narrowed dangerously. He gulped and leant back, looking at Harry again. “Yeah, I think maybe I’ll shut up now.”

“Good call,” Harry sighed in relief.

“No, thanks,” said Harry. “The poor toilet’s … ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said.

People snorted or snickered around them.

“Now, that’s a little funnier,” Fred grinned proudly.

“Not the funniest, but it was good,” George nodded approvingly.

“You didn’t have to run, though,” Alicia grinned amused. “I doubt your cousin would’ve figured out any time soon that you’ve insulted him.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Harry said. “Dudley may have had a sprout of brilliance right then and it’s better to be out of reach if that happens.”

“You could use that survival instinct a bit more often here at Hogwarts, you know,” Ron grumbled good-naturedly.

Harry grinned at him. “Maybe that’s why I don’t have much left when Hogwarts comes around. I’ve used my quota of the year with my relatives.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

One day in July, Aunt … gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years.

“How do you know how a piece of chocolate cake that has been stored for several years tastes like?” Ron asked befuddled.

“I stole a piece of chocolate that Dudley had just bought once,” Harry said, grinning wickedly. “That was good. Much better than Mrs. Figg’s. That one tasted like dust and, underneath all that, chocolate. It wasn’t that bad, though.”

“Did they catch you?” Fred asked.

“Stealing Dudley’s chocolate, we mean,” George clarified quickly.

“Dudley? No way. They almost never caught me,” Harry assured them.

He had been stealing food from the kitchen for so long that he had the quantities he could take from each thing calculated almost down to a science. And Aunt Petunia was much more observant than her son so, if she didn’t catch him, there was no way that Dudley would.

“There’s hope for you yet, young Harry,” George said, smiling brightly.

“You might still make us proud,” Fred wiped a fake tear off his cheek.

“He shouldn’t have to steal food,” Sirius grunted, clenching his fists.

“We stole food from the kitchen too,” Remus reminded him.

“We didn’t steal it!” Sirius hissed, elbowing him in the ribs. “We politely asked the house-elves for it and they happily gave it to us!”

“That’s basically the same thing as stealing it,” Remus said amused.

That evening, Dudley paraded … supposed to be good training for later life.

“They give them sticks so the students can hit each other?!” Molly asked scandalized. “What kind of school is that?”

“Mrs. Weasley, here they give us sticks to hex each other,” Harry reminded her gently, holding up his own wand.

Ron snorted. “He’s got a point, mum. I mean, they can give each other a bruise, but we can do much worse.”

“Just thinking about what can happen if a spell goes wrong would horrify muggles,” Hermione agreed. When she told her parents about her school year, she censored a lot, and not just about the extra adventures that normal students didn’t have.

“But… It’s not… It’s not the same,” Mrs. Weasley argued weakly. She had never thought about it that way.

“Oh, the possibilities these little things have,” George said, twirling his wand between his fingers.

“Poor muggles, that they have to result to simply beating each other up with the sticks instead of hexing off ears or noses or making tentacles grow out of their foreheads,” Fred laughed.

“Muggles can do a lot of damage too,” Dean argued.

“But wizards can do more with less effort,” Seamus replied.

“And it’s easier to get away with it without being caught at all,” Angelina nodded.

As he looked at Dudley in his new … the proudest moment of his life.

“Those are some low standards,” Percy said with a scrunched-up nose.

“What’s so special about those knickerbockers?” Charlie asked confused.

“Maybe nothing, but I think it’s not that different as when a kid boards the train to Hogwarts for the first time. It’s special,” Hermione said pensively.

There was a collective gasp of horror.

“You didn’t,” Tonks said, clutching her chest with one hand.

“How can you compare Hogwarts to a school that has a uniform like that?” Parvati asked appalled.

“’Ogwarts’ uniform is not zat great eizer,” a girl from Beauxbatons scoffed. She was the one that resembled a veela, with silvery blond hair.

An uproar rose from all the students wearing black robes. Many stood up indignant, others simply gave the girl the stinking eye, a few were grabbing their wands.

“Silence!” Dumbledore shouted before it could get too out of control. All the students froze in their places and looked at him. “Please, everyone, return to your seats. Mrs. Delacour has every right to voice her opinion.”

“That doesn’t mean that she’s right,” Ginny huffed, rolling her eyes. “Just because they’re wearing those flimsy robes that are no good in this weather, it doesn’t mean that our robes are bad.”

“They could be a bit more stylish,” Lavender said, staring at her own robes pensively. They were a bit like sacs, black sacs that didn’t favour her in the slightest. Maybe she could alter hers a little bit, just enough to show her figure a bit more without McGonagall scolding her?

“Lavender,” Hermione hissed, glaring at her.

“What? I’m just saying,” the girl shrugged unrepentant. “They’re so… without curves.”

“They’re school robes! They don’t have to have curves! They have to be practical!” Hermione argued.

“Things can be practical and beautiful at the same time. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Lavender contradicted her.

Hermione growled under her breath and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to help her when Lavender came crying to her and asking for help to fix her robes after McGonagall scolded her for having altered them.

Aunt Petunia burst into tears … he looked so handsome and grown-up.

“Especially grown-up,” Harry huffed a laugh. “The buttons of that tailcoat were about to burst. He needed another size or two.”

“Why didn’t his mother get him a bigger size then?” Molly asked with a frown.

Harry shrugged. “I think she refused to admit that her son needed more than an extra-large size from the uniforms that were supposed to be for the students in third year.”

“That couldn’t have been very comfortable for that boy,” Arthur said sadly. He pitied that boy so much. They were ruining him and they weren’t even noticing it.

Harry didn’t trust himself … horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast.

“Didn’t you cook breakfast?” Alicia asked confused. And relieved too, if she was honest. It was good to see that they didn’t make Harry cook every day.

“Not always. Just sometimes,” Harry shrugged. Other times, he had to do other things, things that Aunt Petunia preferred not to do. Like cleaning the bathroom or dusting the living room so they were perfect when the Dursleys wanted to make use of them.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” The chaser said happily.

“But it says that it didn’t smell very good,” Ron said, scrunching up his nose.

“Maybe they aren’t as good as cooks as Harry,” Katie said.

“I thought we had agreed that if Harry is half as good cooking as he is in Potions, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t poisoned his relatives yet,” Ron joked. “Not that I’d blame you if you did, mate.”

“I’m not that bad,” Harry protested, rolling his eyes. “And neither is Aunt Petunia. It wasn’t her cooking that stunk.”

“Then what was it?” Ron asked impatiently.

“If you waited for half a second, maybe we could all find out,” Hermione cut in, glaring at the redhead into silence.

It seemed to be coming from … dirty rags swimming in grey water.

“What the hell is that?” Fred asked with a grimace.

“Fred, what your language! I don’t want you to talk like that in front of your sister!” His mother scolded him.

Ginny rolled her eyes behind her mother’s back. She had heard much worse from all her brothers and while she had been at Hogwarts.

“Sorry, mum,” Fred said automatically.

“I hope that really wasn’t breakfast, Harry,” George said, with the same grimace his twin had.

“It wasn’t, but it didn’t make me any happier,” Harry laughed.

“Why are you laughing then?” Dean asked, staring at his roommate like he was crazy. He had had the suspicion that Harry wasn’t really sane for years now, but he had never said it aloud. It wasn’t his business and, besides, it wasn’t a bad case of insane. It was something that he considered necessary for Harry to do and go through everything he did without losing his mind in a bad way.

“Because I remember what else happened that morning,” the black-haired boy smirked. “That was the beginning of a fun week.”

“Fun at your relatives’?” George asked sceptically.

“I didn’t know they liked jokes,” Fred said.

“Or that they were any good at pranking,” George added confused.

“They aren’t, but they’re ridiculous,” Harry grinned. “Trust me. It was worth it.”

“If you say so…” Fred said uncertainly.

“What’s this?” he asked … dared to ask a question.

The teachers winced and exchanged a look.

“It’s going to be the truth after all,” McGonagall said sadly. “All his life he’s been dissuaded from asking questions.”

“And now he doesn’t even think about asking them even though it wouldn’t be frowned upon,” Professor Sprout said. “How do we fix this?”

“Telling the brat that he can ask questions won’t solve anything,” Snape said before any of them could suggest something stupid like that. He had had the same thing as Potter grilled into him, so he knew from experience. And he wasn’t chipping in into the discussion to help Potter, but to save himself the pain of hearing more stupidities than strictly necessary.

“Maybe we can keep an eye on him to see if he’s struggling with something and offer our help without singling him out in front of everyone,” Professor McGonagall suggested pensively. Harry always reacted better when they talked face to face instead of with an audience.

“He may not want it anyway,” Flitwick said.

“He can always ask Ms. Granger. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with asking her for help,” Sprout reminded them. The young witch was undeniably brilliant and they all knew that she would be more than willing to help her friend with whatever he needed, probably before he even asked her.

“We have to hope that’s enough then,” the head of Gryffindor sighed. She was still going to keep a closer eye on Harry in class to make sure that he was doing his best and he understood everything.

“Your new school uniform,” she said.

“Ew,” Lavender said, turning her face away.

“You can’t smell it,” Hermione said exasperated.

“I can imagine myself wearing those rags,” she scoffed. “They’re horrible and smelly.”

“You wouldn’t have been the one wearing them. I would have,” Harry pointed out confused. “And we all know that I didn’t get to wear them because I came to Hogwarts.”

“And what kind of uniform that… Rockwall school, or whatever it was called, had that it could be faked with those grey things?” Parvati said. “And grey? Really?”

“Your uniform is black,” the same blond girl from before pointed out with a raised eyebrow and a sneer. “It’s not zat different.”

“Black is elegant!” Parvati protested indignant. “And stylish! And it can be combined with every colour!”

The blond girl scoffed and turned away, tossing her hair over her shoulder in clear dismissal.

“That little…” Ginny scowled, glaring at her. She despised her attitude.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hermione said, but she was glaring at the girl from Beauxbatons too. “It’s not worth getting angry over it.”

“You’re angry too,” Ron pointed out.

“Shut up, Ron,” she snapped at him.

“Just saying,” he said defensively.

“Then don’t say anything.”

“Then don’t be a hypocrite and say things you’re not doing.”

“Ron!” She snapped again, glowering at him.

Ron opened his mouth to reply, his temper rising too. Before he could utter a single word, Harry stomped on his foot, making the redhead shut his mouth to smother a pained yelp. The black-haired boy didn’t even lose his calm expression.

“What the hell, Harry?” Ron hissed, glaring at him.

Harry looked at him, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Shut. Up. Now,” he hissed right back. “Before you anger Hermione enough that she wants to hex you. I’m sitting between you two and I don’t want you using me as a shield.”

Ron deflated. “I wouldn’t have angered her,” he protested half-heartedly.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “Really?” He said sceptically.

The redhead leant forward a bit, just enough to take a peek at the brunette sitting on Harry’s other side. He winced when he could practically see the waves of anger oozing off of her. Maybe Harry had a point.

Harry looked … didn’t realize it had to be so wet.”

“That was weak, Harry,” Fred sighed.

“It wasn’t like there was much material to begin with, though,” George pointed out.

“Sarcasm’s always beautiful,” Tonks said, grinning at Harry.

“See, Padfoot?” Remus said softly, smiling sadly at the black-haired teen in spite of talking to his childhood friend. “That was pure Lily. All sarcasm and witty remarks.”

Sirius frowned, staring at his godson. It was true that James wouldn’t have said something like that. He would have thrown that thing away and refused to wear it, to be honest. He would have ranted and shouted and raged at everything to make his displeasure known instead of saying it in a more subtle way like Harry had done and Lily would have. It was all so confusing.

Harry was so much like James, but then Remus pointed out something that made Sirius realize that he wasn’t so similar to his father at all, and the animagus was left floundering. He really needed to get to know his godson better, spend more time talking to him. If only Harry trusted him a bit more, it would be so much easier. If things had happened as they should have thirteen years earlier, everything would be different and he would be so much happier. They would all be so much happier.

“Don’t be stupid,” snapped … look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.”

“She’s delusional,” Alicia scoffed disbelievingly. “She can’t possibly think that it’ll look the same.”

“Maybe she didn’t care if it did or not,” Angelina pointed out.

“She didn’t,” Harry confirmed.

“But if it looked so different, someone would’ve definitely noticed,” Hermione said. “Didn’t they care that that would raise questions?”

Harry shrugged. “My baggy clothes and my permanently broken glasses hadn’t raised any questions until then,” he pointed out. “Why would a second-hand uniform do it now?”

“That’s something else that doesn’t make sense!” She exclaimed angrily.

“Notice-Me-Not,” Luna said softly.

Hermione gasped. “But that’s an incredibly advanced charm!” She exclaimed. “It’d make sense, though.”

“Um, Hermione?” Harry asked hesitantly. You never knew how Hermione was going to react if you interrupted her when she was having an enlightenment.

“Accidental magic, Harry!” She exclaimed, grabbing his arm with bruising strength.

“O-kay?” He said slowly, not getting it at all.

She huffed impatiently. “You probably did accidental magic and you didn’t even notice it, Harry. Nobody did,” she explained.

“I did?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s called Notice-Me-Not Charm,” she continued her explanation like he hadn’t talked. “It’s difficult, very difficult. It’s similar to a Disillusionment Charm, which was made to hide someone by turning them almost invisible. Except that the Notice-Me-Not Charm can be applied to anything and it doesn’t turn anything or anyone invisible. Everyone can still see it, but they don’t focus on it, like an unknown face in a crowd that you don’t remember later.”

“So, it changes your features?” Ron asked confused.

“No,” she shook her head, sending her bushy hair flying everywhere. “More like makes it unimportant. Like there’s something unconsciously telling everyone that that’s not what they’re looking for.”

“Like the Force!” Dean exclaimed enthusiastically.

“What force?” Seamus asked, staring at his best friend like he had grown a second head.

“You know, the Force,” Dean said. “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” he said with a grave voice as he waved his hand in front of Seamus.

The other boy swatted it away with a bewildered expression. It didn’t help that most of the muggle-borns and some half-bloods were cackling up. “What are you doing? What force? And what droids? What’s a droid?”

“Dude, I can’t believe I haven’t told you about the Force yet!” Dean said dramatically.

“And you still haven’t explained to me what it is!” Seamus said exasperated.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Hermione intervened, but she was grinning in amusement.

“I get it now, though,” Harry said, grinning too. Even he, who wasn’t allowed to watch the TV at the Dursleys, knew what that catchphrase was about.

“I don’t,” Ron said, as confused as before.

“We can watch the movie this summer or something. Then you’ll get it,” Harry dismissed.

“What movie?” Ron said, even more confused. “Dean was talking about a force.”

“You’ll understand when you watch the movie,” Harry snickered.

“You’re a prat,” Ron huffed.

“And you’re impatient,” the younger boy replied.

“The point is,” Hermione said, trying to get back on topic. “That Harry subconsciously hid all the signs about how the Dursleys treated him.”

“Why would he do that?” Ron asked. That was even more confusing than the movie and the force thing.

Hermione glared at him. “I said subconsciously!” She snapped. “Children who are treated like Harry,” she said, desperately trying to avoid the word ‘abused’. She never wanted to use it in the same sentence as Harry, even when there was no other way to look at it. “Are taught to hide it from everyone.”

“But why would they obey?” He insisted.

“It’s not something they do on purpose, Ron!” She yelled at him. Her face was reddening with fury. “Just like you take magic for granted and would never even consider life without it, they never think that they should tell someone! It’s something subconscious! He was convinced that he had to hide it and his magic acted accordingly.”

“Hermione,” Harry said quietly, grabbing her hand to get her attention.

He was trying to ignore his own embarrassment and all the stares he was getting. Instead, he focused on his friend, who was breathing harshly and was clenching her fists so tightly that she was probably leaving marks on the palms of her hands. Slowly, he forced her fingers to uncurl one by one, watching as all the tension was drained out of her.

“That’s better,” he said quietly when he finally straightened her ten fingers and he could grab her hands freely, allowing her to cling to one of his hands as tightly as she wanted. He smiled at her gently.

Hermione sighed and squeezed his hand. “Sorry, Harry,” she muttered, knowing that he couldn’t be too happy about how she had yelled in the Great Hall about how much the Dursleys had affected him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said sincerely. It wasn’t anything new that they couldn’t already guess from what they had read.

Hermione smiled at him. She released his hand to link her arm with his and lay her head on his shoulder. She was so grateful that she had Harry as her brother.

“You okay, Ron?” Harry asked quietly since the redhead hadn’t moved yet.

“You still think like that?” He asked instead of answering.

“Like what? Like I have to hide it?” Harry said. He snorted, careful not to dislodge Hermione. “I think that choice has been taken out of my hands now.”

“Not what I mean, Harry,” Ron said seriously.

“I told you about it willingly,” the black-haired boy reminded him. “And you and Hermione already knew a lot of what we’ve read and a lot of what we haven’t.”

“Does that mean that you’ll talk to us?” The redhead pressed on. He didn’t want his best friend to hide things like that. They would eat him up from the inside out.

Harry smiled wryly. “Do I have another option?” He asked knowingly.

“No,” his best friends answered at the same time.

“We’d beat it out of you sooner or later,” Ron said, sending him a warning glance.

“Then I’ll have to talk to you,” Harry gave him half a shrug, still careful not to dislodge Hermione off of his right shoulder.

“You better,” she said quietly before straightening again. She was not above using underhand tactics to help Harry.

“Does that mean we can continue reading?” Bill asked hesitantly after a minute in silence.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, ignoring all the curious and worried stares.

“Harry,” Sirius began to say.

“Not now,” Harry interrupted firmly. He was never going to talk with his godfather about the Dursleys, especially in front of the Great Hall. The animagus was capable of going to kill them, and become a murderer for real and Harry hadn’t prevented that four months prior only to let it happen now.

Sirius sighed disgruntled, but he gave in. He had to corner his godson at some point. He needed to talk to him and clear the air. He didn’t want to have secrets between them. Well, there were things that he wouldn’t talk to Harry about, but it wasn’t supposed to be the same the other way around. He was the adult, and Harry was his godson. He needed to know everything about the kid to be able to protect him and know what was best for him.

Harry seriously doubted this, … like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

“That’s… horrible to picture,” Lavender said with a grimace.

“It was just a comparison,” Katie sighed. “A horribly accurate and somewhat disturbing comparison, but it was a good way of describing it.”

“But it makes it even worse than I imagined,” the younger girl said with a frown.

“What does it matter?” Hermione asked tiredly. There was a reason she had never become close with her roommates. They made her want to tear her hair out.

“It’s a matter of principle,” Lavender said defensively.

“Principle of what?”

“Of what should be worn and what should be burnt. That should definitely be burnt,” she sneered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “She’s ridiculous,” she grumbled under her breath.

Dudley and Uncle … banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

“Why?” Percy asked bewildered. Hitting the table served no purpose at all except possibly spilling the food.

“Maybe he liked the sound,” George suggested with a mischievous grin.

“Like a baby that shakes the rattle because of the sound,” Fred smirked.

“He’s not half as cute as a baby, though,” Angelina joked.

“How do you think he was as a baby?” Seamus asked curiously.

“We already know, remember?” Alicia said. “It appeared in the previous chapter. How did it describe him slightly? Different-coloured beach balls?”

“‘A large pink beach ball with different-coloured bonnets’,” Angelina corrected with a chuckle.

“That’s right!” Katie laughed.

“I don’t remember that,” Harry said confused.

“You were asleep,” Ron told him.

“Oh,” Harry said, blushing a bit. He hated that part about the spell.

“It was very descriptive, like that thing about elephant skin,” Katie nodded amused.

They heard the click of the mail … the mail, Dudley,” said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

The twins gasped and fell dramatically off of the couch they were sharing. They gave each other a hard pinch on the arm.

“I’m awake then,” George said wide-eyed.

“Me too, but that was so unexpected,” Fred gasped with a hand pressed to his chest.

“He made his son move,” George said wide-eyed.

“Even if I don’t agree with all those dramatics,” Percy said, sending a disapproving look at the twins. “I have to admit that I didn’t think your uncle would do something like that.”

“Especially when Harry’s right there too,” Charlie said with a confused expression.

“Maybe this means that they really make their son do some chores too,” Mrs. Weasley said hopefully. That boy needed some discipline and responsibilities, even if it was something as trivial as getting the mail.

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley. They didn’t,” Harry said before she could get her hopes too high.

“Make Harry get it.”

“Get the mail, Harry.”

“See? Now that’s more normal,” Fred said, returning to his seat.

“I’m almost relieved,” George said jokingly. “For a moment I thought I was hallucinating.”

Mrs. Weasley sighed disappointed. “Oh, well. I’m not surprised.”

“Me neither. That man does everything his son tells him to do,” Arthur said sadly. “They’re spoiling that child too much. He won’t know how to fend for himself when he grows up and he has his own problems.”

“Life will teach him,” Bill said. “It teaches everyone.”

“It’s not the best method of learning, though,” his father said sadly. It tended to be painful and difficult and often scarring for the recipient.

“Make Dudley get it.”

Ron whirled around to stare at his best friend. “Seriously?” He asked incredulous.

“What?” He asked, inching away from him warily. He could see Ron’s hands twitching to slap him on the back of his head.

“You really thought that would work?” The redhead asked exasperated. His best friend could be such an idiot sometimes.

“Not really.”

“Then why did you do it?!”

“Miracles happen?” He asked more than answered. The slap on the back of his head came from behind him. He should have seen it coming. “Ouch! Hermione!”

“You don’t have to taunt your uncle like that!” She scolded him. Those were the kinds of things that ended up with Harry punished, which wasn’t a good thing with his relatives.

“He wasn’t being fair!”

“And you thought he’d suddenly make a turnaround and become fair?” She asked, glaring at him.

“No, but someone had to point it out,” he said stubbornly.

“You’re impossible,” she huffed.

“And I’m right too,” he said, crossing his arms.

“No, you’re not,” she said, glaring at him again. “There was no need to do that.”

“You would’ve done the same!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do!” He argued. Of course, he knew how she would react.

“And, besides,” she added, ignoring his comment. “You can’t reason with your relatives!”

“That much is true,” Harry conceded with a nod.

Hermione huffed satisfied and settled down again.

“Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley.”

“Really?” Sirius growled. “That’s his answer? To poke my godson with the stick?”

“We already said that they can’t do much more with their sticks,” Fred cut in, ready to diffuse the growing tension.

“Not like us. We can charm his stick to follow him around and hit him nonstop,” George grinned mischievously. They would be of age when summer came around so there would be nothing to stop them.

“You can’t do that!” Their mother scolded them. “He’s just a child!”

“Who hits Harry and everything within range with a stick,” George pointed out.

“We’re just returning the favour and letting him know how it feels,” Fred nodded in agreement.

“You will not do that!” She ordered them.

The twins exchanged a look and shrugged. They could obey their mum and still have some fun, like when they had sent Harry the toilet in his first year. There were so many other possibilities to make those people pay (even if Harry said that he didn’t want revenge), and so many that didn’t require magic at all. They were going to have so much fun that summer.

Harry dodged the Smelting stick … and — a letter for Harry.

Everyone leant forward in anticipation. This had to be it, didn’t it? Was this the letter from Hogwarts, the most important letter a wizard received in his life?

Harry picked it up and stared … He had no friends,

“Now you do,” Ron said firmly.

“And we write as often as possible,” Hermione said, knowing that it wasn’t always that easy with two owls for the three of them. If she had gotten an owl instead of Crookshanks the year before, the communication would have gone much faster, but still, she didn’t regret having chosen her orange cutie.

“I know,” Harry said amused. After that disaster with the letters withheld by Dobby the summer before second year, each of his best friends had written at least a couple of times every week. Hedwig and Errol, now substituted by Pig, always got a workout during the holidays.

“We can write too, right, brother mine?” George said.

“Every week if we have to,” Fred nodded.

They never wrote to Harry, usually just adding something to Ron’s letters to his best friend and receiving news about him the same way, but maybe they could make an effort. Although, if they truly managed to stop Harry from having to go back to his relatives, that wouldn’t be necessary.

no other relatives

“Thank Merlin for that,” Alicia said.

“You’re very right,” Fred nodded with mock-seriousness.

“He’s got enough of a zoo as it is with the morse, the pig and the horse,” George agreed. “I don’t think the house would stay standing if you added more animals to the mix.”

“Besides, who needs more relatives like them when you have a bunch of redheads,” Charlie joked with a wide grin.

“Some people would argue that we’re a scarier bunch than the zoo,” Bill joked, grinning in amusement.

“Please, Bill,” Fred scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t offend us by comparing us to those animals,” George huffed.

“I don’t think it’s that bad to say that we’re scarier than the Dursleys,” Charlie said pensively.

“I’d be offended if they were scarier than us,” Ginny huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“They certainly have less tools at their disposal to try to scare anyone. They can’t do anything we can’t do,” Percy observed.

— he didn’t belong to the library, … rude notes asking for books back.

“Muggles just get rude notes?” Seamus asked. “We get Madam Pince following us everywhere like a vulture!”

“She has no qualms about using a Summoning Charm if you don’t return the books,” Angelina grimaced. She knew it from experience. She had been studying with a book, knowing that she should have returned it a few days before, when it had flown out of her hands and directly to the library.

“I heard that she sneaks into your room to find it if you put charms on it to prevent it from being summoned,” Alicia said. A student from seventh year had told them that a couple of years prior, after the incident with Angelina.

“Or to threaten you if she can’t find it,” Dean laughed. He had seen it happen to Seamus and he had had a blast.

“Muggles definitely get off easy for not returning the books to the library,” Ron grumbled.

“It’s your own fault for not returning them in time,” Hermione huffed.

“And here I was thinking that it had been too long since you had stood up for your precious library,” Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“What does that mean?” She asked, leaning forward to glare at him since Harry was sitting between them.

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly before they could begin arguing. He still stood by his opinion of not being literally stuck between them when Hermione finally hexed Ron.

Yet … addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

“The automatic feather that’s used to write the addresses wouldn’t write anything less than the exact place of residence, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore said with a kind smile. “It’s been used for years and it’s never mistaken.”

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

“If there’s no way it can be mistaken, I don’t understand how you could have missed this, Albus,” Molly seethed. She couldn’t believe that the school had known and had done nothing. She was going to have a few words with the headmaster.

“Unfortunately, Molly, I am not the one who sends the letters every year,” the old man said. His smile had become a bit strained.

Professor McGonagall sent him an irate look for putting the blame on her so blatantly. She faced the redheaded woman without a hint on a smile. “I’m the one who sends the letters, Molly, but I must confess that I don’t always read all the addresses the feather writes,” she admitted regretfully. She faced Harry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Potter.”

“No problem, Professor,” he said uncomfortable. “You have a lot of work and there are a lot of letters being sent every year.”

The woman pursed her lips and frowned. “Still, I think that does not excuse my inactions. If I had done what I had to do properly, I would’ve been knocking on that door that very same morning and you wouldn’t have spent another day with those people.”

Harry smiled a little. “I appreciate the sentiment, Professor, but it really is alright. It’s in the past now.”

The head of Gryffindors didn’t stop frowning. She couldn’t allow something like that to happen again. She would read every single letter herself before sending them if she had to before she risked missing something like this ever again.

The envelope was thick … was no stamp.

“It would be fascinating if we used stamps too,” Mr. Weasley said excitedly. “I wonder, how many stamps would be needed to send each letter of Hogwarts?”

“It’d depend on where each letter was addressed to, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione answered quickly. “But, considering it altogether, too many to be worth it.”

“Not that they’re used,” Percy said with a frown. “Owls don’t need stamps for anything.”

“I still don’t understand how putting that little paper on the envelope pays the letterpeople that delivers the letter, though,” Mr. Weasley mused with a frown.

“They’re called postmen, Mr. Weasley,” Harry corrected, biting his lip to conceal a smile.

“Right, right. Postmen,” the man nodded, hanging on to every word.

“And it’s not the stamp that pays the postman, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione explained, hiding her amusement. “The money you pay for the stamps is what pays the postman.”

“So, if they deliver more letters and further away, they earn more money,” Arthur nodded understandingly.

Hermione winced a little. “Not exactly. The system’s a bit more complicated than that. Why don’t I explain it to you later?” She offered.

“Oh, thank you!” He exclaimed with a bright smile.

Turning the envelope over, … purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion,

“There it is!” George cheered. “That’s us!”

“The best house of Hogwarts!” Fred shouted, punching the air in victory.

An uproar of indignation rose from the other three houses.

“Who says it’s the best one?” Tonks snapped, glaring at them. She was a badger at heart and would always be.

“We do,” the twins said at the same time. They didn’t look repentant in the slightest about the ruckus they had just caused.

“Well, you’re wrong,” Padma Patil said from a bit further away.

“Padma, you have to admit that Gryffindor is a bit more entertaining than Ravenclaw,” Parvati said, rolling her eyes. “All you do is read and study and keep your nose between the pages of a book.”

“Well, all you Gryffindors do is rush head first into whatever situation you encounter!” Cho Chang snapped. “You don’t think before you act! You hope for the best and think everything will be alright just because you’re lions!”

“That’s not true!” Ginny yelled back.

“It’s a bit true that most Gryffindors aren’t known for stopping to think of a plan,” Luna pointed out calmly.

Ron snorted. “Tell that to Hermione.”

“I said most, not all,” the blond girl reminded him.

Ron grunted in acknowledgement, but he wasn’t satisfied. “Which house has won the House Cup for the last three years, uh?” He asked smugly.

“That’s got nothing to do with it!” Blaise Zabini argued. “Slytherin had been winning for six years in a row!”

“Until we won,” Dean pointed out.

“You won’t win forever,” Daphne Greengrass hissed at him, glaring at him dangerously.

Ron refused to feel intimidated. “Still, Gryffindor is the best house. It’s the first crest that Harry saw.”

“Ron,” Harry hissed under his breath. He didn’t want to get involved in this debacle if he could help it. He loved Gryffindor with all his heart, of course, but that was because of where he had ended up, not because of any other particular reason.

“That’s because it’s the one located on the top left corner, where we’re used to start reading,” Cedric Diggory pointed out with an annoyed scowl in response to Ron’s comment. He hadn’t heard Harry.

“Well, they put it there for some reason,” Ron replied, equally annoyed.

“No, they didn’t,” Anthony Goldstein snapped at him.

“Please, if we could calm down and continue,” Dumbledore intervened before someone could draw their wand to curse a student from another house.

an eagle,

“Now, that’s the best house of Hogwarts,” Michael Corner said smugly.

“Really?” Seamus asked with a raised eyebrow. “Somehow, I doubt it.”

“You would. You’re not a Ravenclaw, but we know the truth,” Cho Chang replied. “Besides, its crest is on the right bottom corner, which, according to what Cedric said, would mean that it should’ve been the last one Harry noticed, but it was the second one. That proves that it’s the best one.”

Another uproar rose from the other three houses. This time, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin alienated against Ravenclaw.

“That proves nothing!” Ernie Macmillan protested.

“You can’t deny that we tend to use our brains a bit more than the rest of you,” Terry Boot tried to reason. “That helps us face problems with a cool head and find solutions faster. Not to mention all the knowledge that we learn and you’re not interested in.”

“Bullshit!” Justin Finch-Fletchley shouted. Use their brains? Face problems with a cool head? He had seen Terry panic because he couldn’t find his wand when he had it in his hand! That wasn’t using his brain nor facing the problem with a cool head!

“Mr. Finch-Fletchley!” Professor Sprout exclaimed scandalized. “That language isn’t appropriate, especially to be used in front of the whole school and all our guests.”

“Sorry, Professor,” the boy said through gritted teeth. He was still glaring at Terry Boot.

“Good, now, let’s continue,” the woman ordered.

a badger,

“Ha!” Justin exclaimed triumphantly. “That’s the best house.”

“What are you talking about? You’re a bit late to the party. It was the third house Harry noticed,” Katie snorted.

“The best things are worth waiting for,” Hannah Abbot said, coming to the defence of her house.

“Yeah, we know that badgers have little ambition and even less cunning to get what they want,” Pansy Parkinson said with a sly smirk.

“And I’ll let you know that we’re the first ones who don’t shy away from hard work!” Susan Bones snapped at the girl angrily.

“You mean to say that you’re the idiots that end up stuck with all the tasks that no one wants while we’re clever enough to avoid that,” Pansy replied.

“Or you’re just lazy and not trustworthy enough to do what needs to be done,” Cedric said icily.

“That’s enough!” Sprout intervened again. “We should be above these petty insults! We’re all schoolmates!”

“Sorry, Professor,” Cedric said, bowing his head respectfully.

Sprout turned towards her colleague. “Don’t you have something to say, Severus?” She pressed with narrowed eyes.

“I prefer not to get involved in my students’ battles,” Snape said innocently, almost with indifference. Sprout glared at him until he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Behave. Don’t give me a reason to intervene again,” he ordered, looking at his snakes.

“Of course, Professor,” Daphne Greengrass said politely.

“That wasn’t much of a scolding,” Sprout grumbled under her breath.

“It was enough,” Snape said dismissively. His snakes knew the consequences of disobeying him, especially disobeying an order he had given in public.

and a snake

“What do you have to say now, uh?” Ernie Macmillan said smugly. “Your house was the last one Harry noticed.”

“Potter has never had good taste in anything,” Malfoy sneered.

Harry bristled and glared at him, but he still refused to get involved in this argument. If he did, it would only get worse if, and when, they read the conversation he had had with the Sorting Hat the night he had been placed in Gryffindor.

“Not even in broomsticks?” Hermione asked slyly. “Because I remember hearing you talk about how great Firebolts are and, as far as I know, Harry’s the only one with one as of now.”

Malfoy’s cheeks turned pink in embarrassment while many Gryffindors cheered.

“Well said, Hermione!” Seamus congratulated her.

“And, in spite of the crest of Slytherin being on the right top corner, which means it should’ve been the second one to be noticed, it was the last one. That has to mean something,” Susan Bones said, still sore about the comments against her house earlier.

“Nothing, apart from the fact that Potter’s as blind as a bat,” Theodore Nott retorted without missing a beat.

“Dude, what have I done now?” Harry protested. “I haven’t even opened my mouth! Leave me out of it!”

“Shut up, Potter,” Malfoy glared at him.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You shut up, Malfoy. For once, I haven’t said anything against you.”

“Please, can we continue with the reading?” Dumbledore intervened again tiredly.

surrounding a large letter H.

“Hogwarts!” The Weasley twins shouted, startling a lot of people.

“If there’s something we can all agree on,” Fred said.

“It’s that Hogwarts is the best school,” George grinned.

“I would not be so sure about zat,” the blond girl resembling a veela sneered. “Beauxbatons is more elegant.”

“Hovarts has a lot of flavs,” Viktor Krum said with a grimace of distaste. “I don’t see vot’s so special about it. Durmstrang’s curriculum is much more complete.”

The collective uproar from all the students wearing black robes was instantaneous. Even those that usually acted like they couldn’t care less about their school rose to its defence without hesitation. It was one thing when they, students of Hogwarts, insulted another house or criticised the school, but it was another thing for these upstarts to belittle Hogwarts and they weren’t going to stand for it.

“Alright, there’s no need to compare the schools,” Dumbledore said. He had to stand up and raise his hands to get everyone’s attention. “They’re all wonderful and special in their own way. It’s the differences between them that make this competition we’re celebrating this year so astounding.”

Nobody looked happy right then. The students were glaring at the ones from other schools and both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff had strained smiles on their faces, like they were refraining themselves from snapping at the older headmaster. Clearly, they didn’t see the competition the same way Dumbledore had portrayed it to be.

“Hurry up, boy!” shouted Uncle … checking for letter bombs?” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Now, that was just painful to hear,” Fred said with a grimace.

“My poor ears,” George moaned, grabbing them. “They’re gonna fall off if they have to hear something that horrible again.”

“You could always go show them how a good joke really is. Maybe that’ll teach them a lesson,” Bill suggested with a wicked smirk.

“Bill, don’t encourage them to prank people, especially muggles!” His mother chided him annoyed.

“On the contrary, mum, that’s an excellent idea,” George beamed at his oldest brother.

“We could even show them the funniest side of magic, that it doesn’t have to be scary,” Fred said. “So, if you look at it that way, we’re just doing them a favour.”

“No, you aren’t,” Molly sighed exasperated. “You’re gonna scare them even more.”

They gasped in mock indignation. “We would never!” They exclaimed at the same time.

“Why would we want to do that?” George asked innocently.

“It can’t possibly be because of their awful treatment of Harry,” Fred drawled out sarcastically.

Molly’s retort died in her lips. She didn’t want her sons to prank the muggles, but she couldn’t deny that the Dursleys deserved to be taught a lesson.

“Maybe we could go along with them,” Remus whispered so only Sirius, who was next to him on the couch, could hear him.

“Why?” The animagus growled.

Remus frowned at him. “What do you mean why? Don’t you wanna get some revenge on Harry’s behalf?”

“Oh, I’m gonna get revenge alright,” Sirius promised with darkened eyes. “But it’s not gonna be a silly prank and a warning.”

“Sirius…” The werewolf sighed tiredly.

“No, leave me be, Remus. I’m gonna make them pay,” Sirius said, not an ounce of mirth in his face.

“You’re gonna get into trouble if you harm them,” Remus reminded him.

“It’d be worth it for what they did to Harry. We only know a fraction of what he went through because of them and I wanna kill them already. I am gonna kill them just because of what we’ve learnt.”

Remus sighed again and rubbed his eyes. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not gonna change my mind.”

“There’s a lot to talk about and, fortunately for me, neither you nor anyone else can leave the castle for the foreseeable future so we’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

Harry went back to the kitchen, … slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

“You thick-headed, stupid…!” Hermione exclaimed, hitting Harry with each word.

“Ouch! Hey! Hermione!” Harry exclaimed shocked, grabbing her hands to stop her. Thankfully, he was stronger than her because the girl seemed to be hell-bent on hitting him for some reason.

“You’re smarter than that, Harry!” She accused him.

“Than what?” He asked bewildered.

“Than that!” She snapped. “How could you think it’d be a good idea to open the letter in front of them?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Dean asked confused. “What’s the problem with that?”

“They take everything away from him, including a proper uniform for school or a proper bedroom. Why wouldn’t they take the letter too?” She asked impatiently.

“Oh,” Dean said, blushing slightly.

“I didn’t think of that, Hermione,” Harry sighed, releasing her now that he knew that she wasn’t going to try to hit him again.

“It was a stupid move, mate,” Ron pointed out with a grimace.

“I know,” Harry agreed.

“But surely they couldn’t take the letter from Hogwarts too?” Charlie said, but it sounded more like a question than anything.

“I agree with Hermione here,” Tonks said. “Those people don’t seem to have a limit to what they’d do to keep magic out of their lives.”

“You think they’d try to stop Harry from going to Hogwarts?” Charlie asked, slightly alarmed.

“Charlie, don’t you remember when Ron invited Harry to the Quidditch Cup? He said that they may have to break Harry out of his relatives’ house,” Bill reminded him quietly. “And the twins said that they had already had to help Ron do exactly that two years ago.”

Charlie shut his mouth, his confusion vanishing. “Yeah, I remember. It doesn’t seem an exaggeration anymore.”

They had been shocked and confused and maybe slightly concerned when they had heard that story from the twins, even if it hadn’t had a lot of details. The most disconcerting thing may have been the twins’ expressions, which had been dark and unamused. It was rare to see Fred and George so serious, but neither they nor Ron hadn’t been joking when they had said that they would get Harry out of his relatives’ house one way or another.

Uncle Vernon ripped open … “Marge’s ill,” he informed Aunt Petunia. “Ate a funny whelk…”

“Good,” Harry smirked.

“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed scandalised. “You shouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“It’s just a stomach ache,” he said dismissively. He had had tons of those when the Dursleys didn’t feed him for more than a day or they gave him something that had begun to go bad, so he had little sympathy if the same had happened to Marge.

“Still, Harry, it’s not right to wish for someone to get sick,” the redheaded woman insisted.

“I don’t wish for her to get sick, but I’m not sad about it,” Harry defended himself. “She said some awful things about me and my parents last summer.”

“What did she say?” Sirius cut in.

“I guess you’ll see at the end of the second book or the beginning of the third one,” Harry said. If it appeared at all. If it didn’t, Harry wasn’t going to tell his godfather.

“Harry,” the animagus growled. He didn’t want to wait that long.

“No. I don’t wanna talk about it. You’ll become murderous again and I don’t wanna deal with that once more. It’ll probably appear later anyway,” Harry said, glaring at him. He could see the rage in his godfather’s eyes and he was getting tired of it. He didn’t need anyone swiping in to solve his problems, especially when that would cause even more problems and bigger ones.

The silence stretched uncomfortably while Sirius and Harry stayed locked in a staring contest, neither of them willing to give in. It went on for so long that the Flitwick’s spell decided that the interruption had finished and reassumed the reading.

“Dad!” said Dudley … got something!”

“And here I was beginning to hope that they wouldn’t notice,” Dean sighed disappointed.

“They could’ve kept talking about that Marge woman, but that idiot had to be watching Harry instead of his food,” Seamus grumbled.

“It makes you wonder why he pays so much attention to Harry if he claims to hate him so much,” Angelina said, glaring at the book.

“Maybe he’s jealous,” Alicia suggested, not very convinced. A loud snort caught her attention.

“Jealous?” Harry laughed. “Of me? What could Dudley be jealous of? His parents did, and still do, literally anything he wants to make him feel special and better than me. Anything I could possibly have that he wanted was automatically his without argument and I was punished more times than I can count just because he wanted.”

“Maybe he still knew somehow that you had something that he didn’t,” Luna said softly.

“You’re talking about magic,” Ginny said, doing a poor job of hiding her scepticism.

“There are only so many instances when something incredible happens before you begin to notice a pattern, don’t you think?” The blond girl hummed. “And, in spite of his parents’ insistence that magic doesn’t exist, even Dudley Dursley had to see that all those instances took place around Harry and were too incredible to explain rationally.”

“I’m not sure if that reasoning is within my cousin’s abilities, Luna,” Harry said amused. “He’s not one for deep thinking.”

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, not taking offence.

Harry was on the point of unfolding … trying to snatch it back.

“They really took it away from you!” Seamus exclaimed indignant.

“How could they do that?!” Katie seethed.

“Isn’t it illegal to read someone else’s correspondence?” Neville asked hesitantly.

“Technically, it isn’t in this case,” Hermione said, looking like it pained her to admit that. “They’re his legal guardians so they have every right to access everything that’s Harry’s, including his letters.”

“That sucks,” Dean blurted out, glaring at the book.

“Who’d be writing to you?” sneered Uncle … the greyish white of old porridge.

“That’s almost enough to steal my appetite,” George grimaced.

“Not completely, though,” Fred said.

“I’m still hungry,” Ron said.

“We haven’t even read two chapters yet. We’re not stopping for a while, Ron,” Hermione warned him.

“I haven’t even asked if we could!” He complained.

“Just making sure you’re not getting ideas,” she huffed.

“P-P-Petunia!” he gasped.

“P-P-Petunia!” George mocked him, doing a poor imitation of him.

“He’s ridiculous,” Fred scoffed. “And I thought there was no one more prone to exaggeration than Percy.”

“I’m not prone to exaggeration!” Percy spluttered.

“You are a bit,” Bill contradicted him.

“That’s not fair! You’re all against me!” Percy exclaimed, glaring at his siblings.

“See? That’s an exaggeration again,” Charlie pointed out calmly. “We’re not all against you. Only Bill and the twins said that you exaggerate, but, after this, I’m inclined to agree with them.”

“That… That’s not…” Percy stammered wide-eyed.

Dudley tried to grab the letter … and made a choking noise. “Vernon! Oh my goodness — Vernon!”

“And she’s an even bigger drama-queen than her husband,” Angelina rolled her eyes. “The whole family’s kind of ridiculous.”

“Wasn’t she Harry’s mum’s sister?” Alicia asked confused.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Why?”

“Why is she so surprised then? Her sister had to receive the same letter when she was eleven, right?” The chaser asked.

“Maybe she forgot,” Neville suggested quietly.

‘Impossible,’ Snape wanted to scoff, but he held it in. Petunia had been obsessed with that letter for weeks. He knew that she had read it more than a dozen times, so it wasn’t possible that she had forgotten at what age wizards started their magical education.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Remus said with a frown. “I think it goes more along the lines that she was hoping that Harry wouldn’t receive his letter.”

“Why wouldn’t he receive it? He’s a wizard,” Dean said confused.

“And they couldn’t not have known about that. They punished him for his accidental magic,” Ginny frowned heavily. She didn’t like that. All her life, accidental magic had always been something to laugh at or at least be amused by as long as it didn’t hurt anyone or put them in danger.

Remus’ frown deepened. “I’m not sure.”

Harry stayed silent through all this. He had his own suspicions about why the Dursleys had been so surprised. They had spent so long trying to get rid of his magic that part of them must have thought that that was enough to extinguish it. Fortunately for him, that hadn’t been the case.

They stared at each other, … his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

“Holy Merlin, is he crazy?” Ron blurted out with wide eyes.

“Aren’t they going to do anything in response to that?” Mr. Weasley asked angry.

“No, they didn’t,” Harry shook his head.

“It’s like they don’t have an ounce of self-respect. I’d never allow my children to do something like that to me or to anyone else,” Arthur said. His eyes were dark and he was clenching his fists in his lap.

“No kidding,” Bill laughed nervously. “I think our ears would still be ringing a week later.”

“That would be the least of your problems, young man,” his mother warned.

“I want to read … Harry furiously, “as it’s mine.”

“You sound really angry,” Colin Creevey said uncertainly. He had never heard his hero sound so angry at anyone and he wasn’t sure that he liked it.

Ron and Hermione snorted at the same time.

“He’s not angry,” the redhead assured the younger boy.

“Well, he doesn’t sound precisely happy,” Parvati pointed out.

“I wasn’t,” Harry huffed.

“But you don’t sound angry either,” Hermione said. “You sound more annoyed than anything.”

They had both seen Harry angry or annoyed plenty of times, more commonly annoyed rather than angry. However, the times when they had seen him angry were more than enough. They still remembered when they had heard that Sirius had betrayed his parents and apparently everyone knew and nobody had thought he should know. That had made him furious. He didn’t sound angry in the book right then. People would hear the difference later.

Harry shrugged. “It wasn’t the first time they took something from me so it was nothing new. I was used to it, even if it did annoy me.”

“You shouldn’t have been used to that,” Sirius growled, gritting his teeth.

“There were a lot of things I shouldn’t have been used to,” Harry replied, barely keeping himself from snapping. He was getting so tired of Sirius getting so angry over things that had happened so long ago and couldn’t be helped now. He didn’t need nor want anger.

Sirius stared at his godson baffled. What was his problem? Why did he seem so angry at him when Sirius was just angry on his behalf and trying to show his support?

“Get out, both of … WANT MY LETTER!” he shouted.

Colin Creevey flinched. “You sound really angry now,” he repeated.

“Maybe a little,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“That’s not a little,” Ginny said, squirming uncomfortable. She had never imagined that Harry could have that temper in him.

“It is,” Ron laughed. “I mean, he’s not happy.”

“But I think it’s better when he shouts and screams,” Hermione confessed.

Harry whirled around to gape at her. “You think what?” He asked surprised. He knew that he had quite a temper, but he always tried not to scream and rage.

The brunette witch shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not fun, but at least you don’t bottle up everything inside that way.”

“You get all cold and furious and terrifying when you do that, mate,” Ron agreed, grimacing a bit.

They both remembered the silent fury Harry had carried with him the previous year, after they had discovered what Sirius had supposedly done. That had really scared them. They had glimpsed it again that day when Malfoy had called Hermione a mudblood, but that had been nothing compared to their third year.

“I do?” Harry said, blinking in shock.

“Yeah,” the redhead nodded. “Scary as hell,” he repeated.

“Ron,” his mother said warningly.

“Sorry. Very scary,” he corrected himself, barely keeping the sarcasm in check.

“James had quite a temper on him, too,” Sirius intervened, an amused and nostalgic smile on his face.

Harry whirled around to stare at him with wide eyes. “He did?” He asked, latching onto the new piece of information on his parents.

“It was better to leave him alone until he cooled off. You could end up with a new pair of ears or talking in rhymes for the rest of the week if you didn’t,” Sirius chuckled, remembering the few times he had been on the receiving end of James’ fury.

“And your mother was also one to avoid when she was angered,” Remus said, smiling at the black-haired teenager.

Snape carefully kept his face blank, refusing to show any emotion as memories assaulted him. Memories of Lily shouting and raging, her darkened emerald eyes glaring daggers at whoever had angered her, her red hair resembling crackling fire and her wand clenched in her fist but usually unused when she was like that. He stomped down on the lump of emotion that clogged his throat and focused back on the present.

“Although, James seemed to purposefully ignore all the warnings to keep riling her up,” the werewolf was adding.

“He never learnt his lesson,” Sirius said with a longing smile.

Both Remus and he knew that James had known that he shouldn’t cross Lily, but that he hadn’t cared, that he had kept doing it in the hope of attracting her attention. It had taken him years to understand that having her attention didn’t mean having her affections and that he had to change if he wanted to have a chance with her.

“Like my mum,” Ron said, nudging his best friend with his shoulder.

“I suppose,” Harry grinned. Mrs. Weasley wasn’t someone he wanted to anger either.

“And you have inherited both their tempers. Merlin help us,” Hermione teased him. “No wonder it’s scary when you let it all out, even if it’s better in the long run.”

Harry winced. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t,” she shook her head, smiling at him reassuringly. He usually had a very good reason for being furious. “If you need to shout, be my guest.”

“She’s right,” Remus said. “It was always worse when James or Lily bottled it up inside. They always blew up in the end and they felt worse for it.”

Harry smiled uncertainly. He didn’t like having a temper like that. He always felt ashamed after an outburst. He needed to learn how not to direct it towards someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Let me see … Dudley.

“It’s. Not. His!” Angelina said exasperated. “Is that so difficult to understand?”

“For someone who can’t add two?” George asked.

“It must be,” Fred nodded, grinning.

“That kid’s gonna have a lot of problems when he grows up and he realizes that people won’t give him everything he asks for just because he wants it,” Arthur said sadly. He wished there was some way of helping Dudley, even if he had bullied Harry. He had only done what his parents had taught him to do, so, even if that didn’t make him blameless, it wasn’t completely his fault. “The reality check he’s gonna get is gonna be very harsh.”

“OUT!” roared Uncle Vernon, and he took … hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them.

“He threw you?” Sirius hissed, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m fine, Sirius,” Harry sighed. “No harm done.”

“You’re rubbing the back of your neck,” the animagus pointed out, staring with laser-like focus at the hand Harry was using to massage his neck, like it was sore because his uncle had grabbed him too roughly and the stupid books were making him relive it.

Harry immediately dropped the hand, but it was too late. Everyone had noticed already. “It’s alright,” he sighed tiredly. He knew that he wasn’t convincing anyone, but it was the truth. He had gone through much worse than that.

Harry and Dudley … fight over who would listen at the keyhole

“Harry,” Hermione sighed, looking at him sympathetically.

“What?” Harry asked innocently. He knew exactly what she wanted to say.

“You didn’t have a chance against your cousin,” Ron said bluntly. “You were a scrawny kid and he was a huge pig.”

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, exasperated but not surprised at his lack of tact.

“What?” He shrugged. “It’s true. In fact, he still is scrawny, and his cousin is a small whale on the making.”

“Ronald!” His mother scolded him. “You can’t talk about people like that!”

Harry snickered. “It’s a bit true, though.”

The woman looked at him hesitantly. “You could put on some weight. You’re all skin and bones, dear,” she told him.

Harry shrugged. “I’ll eat an extra portion of treacle tart at lunch.”

She frowned. “That’s not what I meant,” she grumbled under her breath. Harry needed nutrients and vitamins and things that were good for him, not just sugar.

“The point is that Harry doesn’t know how to pick a fight with people of his own size,” Ron joked, rescuing his best friend before his mum could go on a mother-henning spree.

“And he didn’t get better at it when he came to Hogwarts,” Hermione snickered.

“He didn’t?” Seamus asked perplexed.

“You’re getting into trouble with older students?” Fred asked, gasping in mock-horror. “And you didn’t tell us?”

“Shame on you, Harrykins,” George said, shaking his head.

“I haven’t picked a fight with an older student,” Harry protested, rolling his eyes.

“Sure, you haven’t. I knew you were a troublemaker,” Tonks said, winking at Harry playfully.

Harry blinked at her, realizing that she believed that he was joking. “I haven’t…”

Molly frowned. “You shouldn’t fight with other students, Harry. No matter whether they are older or not,” she said disapprovingly.

“I don’t…” Harry tried again.

“But it’s better if they aren’t older,” Charlie chipped in. “At least until you know a bit more of magic, especially defensive magic.”

Harry scowled and gave up on trying to defend himself. He glared at Hermione. “See what you’ve caused?” He hissed.

She covered her mouth with a hand to smother a giggle. “Sorry. How was I supposed to know that they would reach that conclusion?” She asked, not sounding very sorry at all.

Harry rolled his eyes, incapable of staying angry with her. “They certainly weren’t gonna think of the troll you were talking about,” he huffed.

“And Fluffy,” Ron added. “And the Devil’s Snare. And Aragog. And the basilisk. And the dementors. Although, those weren’t that big. But they made up for it with creepiness.”

“Ron,” Harry hissed, elbowing him to shut him up.

“Just saying,” he shrugged. “They’ll figure out what Hermione was talking about sooner or later.”

Dudley won, so Harry, … listen at the crack between door and floor.

“Told you you were gonna lose,” Ron snickered.

“I knew I couldn’t win against him,” Harry scoffed.

“Why pick a fight with him then?” Parvati asked baffled.

“I wanted to know what the letter said. I wasn’t gonna do nothing and let Dudley figure it out before me,” he defended himself.

“And why not listen at the crack between the door and the floor from the beginning?” Hermione asked exasperated.

“It was my letter,” Harry scoffed, his voice filled with pure stubbornness. “I wasn’t not going to fight for the best spot to hear about it, even if I knew I wasn’t gonna get it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible,” she sighed, more amused than exasperated.

“Vernon,” Aunt Petunia … might be following us,” muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

“I think we have better things to do,” Bill said with a grimace.

“Although, with all the wizards I met before I even knew that they were wizards, it isn’t that farfetched to think that they were watching,” Harry shrugged.

Snape inwardly scoffed. He knew that the arrogance he had seen from the first day had to be somewhere and it was only a matter of time before it appeared. He didn’t get his hopes up about anyone noticing it, though. They were all blind when it came to Potter.

“If the wizarding world had been watching, someone would’ve turned them into cockroaches long before that,” Tonks said upset. She wished that someone had been watching.

“Turn them into cockroaches?” Sirius hissed. “They deserve worse than that.”

“Maybe,” Remus said, even if he agreed with his friend. “But that’s not for you to decide, Sirius.”

“Isn’t it?” The animagus mumbled under his breath. He didn’t care what Remus believed. One way or another, he was going to make those people pay.

“But what should we … we don’t want —”

“They don’t want what?” Lavender asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hermione replied, inwardly seething at the nerve of those people. “They didn’t want Harry to come to Hogwarts and learn magic.”

“They wanted to stop Harry Potter from coming to Hogwarts?” Neville asked incredulous. That was unthinkable. It was just impossible.

“Can you imagine the chaos if Harry hadn’t come?” Seamus asked, shaking his head.

“People would’ve rioted all over the country if they had known what your relatives were planning to do,” Bill said, staring at Harry.

Harry forced a smile on his face, not sure how to take those words. Would people have rioted too if he had been a normal kid being abused or was it just because he was Harry Potter, their saviour? Would they have insisted as much as they had, sending dozens of letters day after day, if he wasn’t the boy-who-lived? Would they have ignored his guardians when they said that he wasn’t allowed to go to Hogwarts if he wasn’t Harry Potter or would they have left him with them?

It wasn’t something he wanted to think about for too long. It made him paranoid and he didn’t want to end up like Mad-Eye, not trusting anyone.

Harry could see Uncle … Yes, that’s best… we won’t do anything…”

“They wouldn’t give up anyway,” Charlie scoffed.

“The wizarding world wouldn’t let Harry go that easily,” Percy shook his head knowingly. “Not when people had been waiting to meet him for ten years.”

Harry squirmed uncomfortable. Those words were not reassuring him, nor were they helping him forget about his earlier thoughts. If anything, they were only making him even more sure of what he already suspected. People wouldn’t have cared if he came to Hogwarts or not if he hadn’t been Harry Potter. They wouldn’t have cared that a child was still stuck in an abusive household while they kept going with their lives.

He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts to the back of his mind again. They were doing him no good and he hated them.

“Harry?” Hermione asked quietly, putting a hand on his arm. She was staring at him in concern.

Harry stared at her, not saying a word.

“Mate?” Ron said, making the black-haired boy turn around to look at him. The redhead looked concerned too. “You okay?” He asked tentatively.

Harry shook his head and plastered a smile on his face. “I’m fine,” he said. He didn’t recognize his own voice. It wasn’t going to be enough to convince his best friends.

“Sure…” Ron said slowly. What was bothering Harry so much and so suddenly? They couldn’t press the issue there, though. They knew that Harry wasn’t going to talk about it in front of the Great Hall.

The younger boy avoided their gazes and looked at the book instead. He didn’t want to keep thinking about these things. He wanted to forget all about it.

“But … swear when we took him in we’d stamp out that dangerous nonsense?”

“Nonsense? What nonsense?” Alicia asked, her brow creasing in confusion and concern. She had a bad feeling about this.

“It sounds… It sounds like they’re talking about magic,” Angelina said hesitantly. She stared at the smallest member of the quidditch team. “Harry’s magic.”

“They didn’t want any of that in their house,” Harry said, shrugging like it didn’t matter. However, he was so tense that it looked more like a jerk than a shrug.

“How are you supposed to stamp out someone’s magic?” Colin asked baffled.

“You can’t,” Remus answered darkly. “But people can try out of fear.”

“But that… Trying to get rid of someone’s magic…” Hermione stammered.

When she had first found out that she was a witch, she had tried to learn everything she could about her magic. Not only spells and potions, but information about her magic, about where it came from, why she had it and her parents didn’t, how it worked… It had all been very theoretical and advanced, but there had been one thing that had stuck with her.

There had been a few examples of children who had grown fearful of their own magic, either because of some outburst of accidental magic or because people around them had feared it. The children, either unconsciously or on purpose, tried to get rid of their own magic. The consequences were never pretty, neither for the child nor for the people around them.

Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand in a vice grip, terrified for her best friend and brother. She wracked her mind, trying to figure out if Harry was suffering any of those consequences. She didn’t want to imagine the possibility, but he had been so young and it had been so many years of abuse…

“Hermione?” Harry muttered when he felt her trembling. His alarm only grew when he saw the fear in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you fear your magic?” She replied, keeping her voice down.

Harry blinked in confusion. “No,” he replied honestly.

The girl waited a minute, staring at him in the eye. Finally, she let out all the air in her lungs when she could see nothing but sincerity and concern. “Good,” she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.

Harry exchanged a baffled look with Ron, who seemed a bit alarmed too. He turned back to the girl still clutching his hand like she had no intention of releasing it any time soon. “Hermione, you okay?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” she said, raising her head. Her smile faded when she saw how unconvinced the two boys were. “It’s just that it would’ve been so easy for you to end up fearing your magic and trying to get rid of it.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Harry asked perplexed. His magic had saved his life more times than he could count.

Hermione shrugged. “If you had believed that your relatives would treat you better if you didn’t have it, you may have subconsciously tried to do it.”

Harry paused. “You think they would have?” He asked quietly.

“No,” Ron growled. He wasn’t going to allow his best friend to make excuses for them. “They’re just sick people.”

“And if you had begun to fear your magic…” Hermione continued. She shuddered, tightening her grip on Harry’s hand. “Children can die for things like that. At the very least, they end up messed up for life.”

“They do?” Ron gulped. He had never considered it. Magic was something as wonderful as it was normal for him. He couldn’t imagine life without it. However, that didn’t matter in the face of the possibility of his best friend dying because of his relatives. It was the second time that he heard they had put his life in jeopardy and he hated it.

He hated them. He didn’t think he could even hate You-Know-Who that much. As far as he was concerned, even Azkaban would be too good for the Dursleys.

Harry smiled weakly at his best friends. “Well, then it’s a good thing that I wasn’t clever enough to think about getting rid of what they hated me for, huh?”

“Don’t joke about that,” Hermione hissed warningly at him. She closed her eyes. “Seriously, don’t,” she choked out, her voice breaking a little bit.

Harry softened and squeezed her hands. “It’s alright, Hermione. I’m fine. I’d never wanna get rid of my magic. It’s always protected me and looked after me.”

“Good,” she repeated.

Unknowingly to all three of them, Dumbledore’s thoughts were very similar to Hermione’s. He couldn’t help but notice the similarities with his sister’s story and how her magic had tried to destroy itself because the girl had been terrified of it. It had only ended in disaster.

‘However, that wasn’t the same that had happened to Harry,’ he thought to himself.

Ariana had been attacked by muggles when she had been a small child. And he would agree that Harry’s childhood had been difficult and far from happy, but it wasn’t the same. Harry had been neglected and insulted, but he hadn’t been beaten because of his magic. It was different.

He ignored that, even when he was just saying it to himself, it sounded like cheap excuses.

That evening when he got back from work, … through the door. “Who’s writing to me?”

“You’re like a dog on a bone, Harry,” Seamus snorted in amusement. “You never know when to let it go.”

“I wanted my letter,” Harry explained unnecessarily.

“Didn’t it worry you that your uncle would punish you?” Katie asked, a bit concerned about him. Or the Harry in the book at least.

Harry shrugged. “If I never did anything that may have earned me a punishment, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. I would’ve lived in constant fear.”

More than he already had, that is. Because he had been terrified of his relatives as a kid. He had been the smallest one of them and always much weaker and always the one being punished and ignored and singled out in a way. That had faded little by little over time until his eleventh birthday, when he had gotten all the explanations he needed for his relatives’ irrational behaviour and he had realized that he didn’t need to be afraid of them anymore.

It hadn’t been as easy as flipping a switch. The fear hadn’t disappeared overnight, but the months away from the Dursleys and surrounded by his friends had helped a lot. The fear had gotten smaller and smaller with time until he was barely bothered by it in his everyday life.

He owed Ron and Hermione so much for helping him, much more than they could ever even begin to guess. One day, he would figure out how to thank them for all of it (not repay them, because they would kick his ass if he even thought about doing that), but for the moment he didn’t even know how to begin to put it into words.

“No one. It was addressed … have burned it.”

“He burnt it?!” Neville squeaked. He had feared for years that he wouldn’t receive that letter and that man had burnt it so carelessly, like it wasn’t worth anything.

“He burnt the first letter of Hogwarts a child receives?” Tonks asked scandalized.

“I still have mine somewhere,” Charlie murmured.

“I think most of us do,” Bill nodded.

“How could he burn it?” Percy asked wide-eyed. “How can he have so little care for something so important?”

Snape pursed his lips. He would never voice his suspicions, but he was pretty sure that it had been Petunia who had burnt it, or it had at least been her idea to do it. After becoming so obsessed to her sister’s letter, which would have been exactly the same except for the name on the greeting, Petunia wouldn’t have wanted to keep seeing it. The very same thing that she had been desperate to receive and that had been denied to her again and again, and the nephew she considered so worthless suddenly got it. It would have been her personal nightmare.

“It was not a mistake,” … my cupboard on it.”

“Your cupboard?” Sirius asked in a strangled voice. Hearing that felt like a punch to the gut.

Harry glared at him. “Yes. My cupboard,” he said firmly, tired of this nonsense.

Everyone knew already and if his best friends didn’t care and didn’t treat him differently. So, he wasn’t going to keep being ashamed of it. He was tired of skirting around the subject like it was a dirty secret that he had to keep. It had taken him a long time to understand that it wasn’t his fault and his friends had put too much effort into making him understand that it was the Dursleys who should be ashamed of what they had done. He wasn’t going to go back to that.

“Harry, don’t… don’t… A cupboard isn’t…” Sirius tried to explain through gritted teeth. He didn’t want to hear about it. It hurt to hear how bad things had been for his godson when he had been a kid.

“Isn’t what? A bedroom?” Harry snapped, his temper rising quickly. “You’re right. It isn’t. But it was my bedroom for ten years and nobody can change that now.”

Sirius stared at him with pained eyes. “I wish I could. I’d do anything to be able to change it.”

“Well, you can’t change it and you can’t hide it,” the teenager snapped.

“Harry,” Hermione said softly, putting a hand on his arm. “Nobody’s asking you to hide it.”

“Calm down, mate,” Ron nudged his shoulder gently.

Harry took a shaky breath and gritted his teeth. He was so tired of having his homelife in the open for everyone to discuss and feel pity for and get angry about. He wanted to get past it already, but they weren’t letting him do it.

“SILENCE!” yelled … spiders fell from the ceiling.

Ron shuddered and grimaced. “Blimey, Harry, you weren’t kidding about being used to them.”

“After so long, they weren’t that scary,” the black-haired teen shrugged.

“They can be. You know they can be,” the redhead insisted.

“The ones in my cupboard were nothing like the ones we followed, Ron,” he huffed. “They were tinier and much more normal.”

“More normal than what?” Remus asked warily.

“Than some other spiders we found,” Harry dismissed. That had all the chances of appearing in the second book, so it wasn’t worth it to give everyone a heart attack ahead of time.

“Bet Ronnie loved that you found some spiders,” Fred snickered.

“He probably ran as far away from them as possible,” George said teasingly.

Ron’s ears reddened in anger. Ran away from them? He hadn’t run away from anything since he had met Harry, if only because he knew that if his best friend was going to run anywhere, it was going to be directly towards the danger, not away from it. Since he refused to leave him alone, he had been running towards danger for years. And now his brothers had the audacity to mock him for a phobia that they had caused?

He was about to stand up to… to do something. To yell at them. Or to hex them. Or maybe to tell everyone that he wasn’t a coward like some people believed him to be.

A hand on his arm stopped him and kept him on the couch. He was about to lash out at whoever it belonged to, but it was Harry, and he had vowed a long time ago that he would never lash out at his best friend. He knew that the day that he did that, if it ever came to be (which he would never allow because he would cut his own hand before he did that), it would be the day that he would lose his best friend forever.

“Don’t,” Harry murmured, holding his arm tightly. “Don’t do it.”

“Harry, they…” He protested. Why didn’t Harry want to stand up for him and wasn’t even going to let him stand up for himself?

“I know. But you know they aren’t right. The three of us know that they aren’t right, that you aren’t a coward,” Harry interrupted him, tilting his head towards Hermione.

The girl was glaring at the twins so ferociously that it was a wonder they hadn’t turned into pieces of charcoal already. That, and the cold fury in Harry’s eyes, did a lot to calm down the redhead. It was true, after all. They knew the truth.

“And everyone will know the truth when we get to that,” Harry continued. “Hell, they’ll find out before we finish the first book that you couldn’t be the furthest thing from a coward if you tried. You’re one of the bravest people I know, Ron.”

All the fight left Ron with those words. It was the first time that someone considered him brave and it was… different. It was good. If Harry, who was willing to face his worst fear again and again to learn to fight against it, thought that he was brave, that had to count for something.

“Thanks, mate,” he murmured.

Harry released his hold and patted his arm with a smile. “You have my back and I got yours, right?”

“And Hermione’s,” Ron added.

“That goes without saying, but I think we both know that Hermione can watch her own back much better than we ever could,” Harry joked.

Hermione blushed and shoved him lightly, but she had a pleased smile on her face. It felt good to know that her boys had her back while knowing that she could look after herself. She wasn’t a damsel in distress.

“Besides, can you imagine their faces when they realize how wrong they are?” Harry snickered.

Finally, Ron chuckled as he imagined it. He would be the one to laugh then.

He took a few deep breaths … be nice if you moved into Dudley’s second bedroom.”

“Second bedroom?” Sirius growled dangerously. It was bad enough that they had put Harry in a cupboard, but to do so when they had enough bedrooms to give him one for himself? It was like they were asking to be hexed within an inch of their life.

“They should’ve turn that into Harry’s bedroom from the very beginning,” Molly frowned upset.

“Dudley said that he needed it,” Harry shrugged.

“And what he says goes in that house,” Fred nodded seriously.

“It’s like, the first rule anyone has to follow if they don’t want to be hit with that stick of his,” George agreed.

“It’s not funny, boys,” Arthur scolded them softly. Child abuse wasn’t something to laugh at or joke about.

“We aren’t laughing,” they replied at the same time.

“I would if I wasn’t gonna be the only one laughing,” Harry chipped in with a shrug. He preferred to deal with all of it that way. Didn’t people say that if you could laugh about it, you could get past it? Then, he definitely wanted to laugh about it. He didn’t want to get dragged down by it for the rest of his life.

“I wish I could say that I’d laugh with you, mate, but…” Ron grimaced.

“Too soon?” Harry asked.

“Just a little bit,” Hermione agreed.

Harry sighed and racked a hand through his hair. “It’s not like it matters anymore now. It hasn’t been my bedroom for years. I spend most of the year at Hogwarts and then part of the holidays in Ron’s room.”

“Might as well be your room too,” George shrugged. “You clean it too when you’re there.”

“And your things are all over the place. We gave up a long time ago in trying to figure out which were your things and which were Ron’s,” Fred added.

Ron and Harry whipped around to glare at them suspiciously.

“When did you try to do that?” Harry asked.

“And when did you go into our room?” Ron asked.

“Don’t worry. We didn’t mess with anything,” George said dismissively.

“Not much anyway. And we put everything back the way it was,” Fred added.

“What everything?” Ron asked, getting annoyed.

“Everything,” they replied at the same time.

The younger redhead glared at them for a minute before turning towards Hermione. “Do you know spells to lock someone out of a room?”

The girl raised an amused eyebrow. “I do, but may I remind you that you can’t cast them on your room because you can’t do magic outside of Hogwarts?”

Ron gritted his teeth. That restriction was so annoying.

“We could cast spells to keep anyone but us from opening our trunks, though,” Harry pointed out. “And we can do that in Hogwarts.”

Ron grinned. “Brilliant, Harry,” he agreed. He looked at Hermione pleadingly. “Please?”

She rolled her eyes in amusement. “I think I can look up a thing or two.”

“Brilliant!” Ron repeated. “Thanks, Hermione!”

“Why?” said Harry.

“Why are you questioning it? Just be glad about it!” Dean exclaimed.

“I would’ve been jumping up and down in joy about getting my own bedroom,” Seamus agreed.

“No way,” Lavender scoffed. “They should’ve done that a lot time before that. I would’ve given them a hard time about it.”

“But not too much of a hard time. Just enough scorn to make them think that it was your plan all along,” Parvati agreed. “It’d make them all nervous and skittish around you.”

Everyone stared at the two girls, a bit perturbed.

“What?” Parvati said defensively. “Just because I’m not in Ravenclaw like my twin, it doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain and I don’t know how to use it.”

“Blimey. Girls are scary,” Ron murmured.

“I still wouldn’t argue too much with the Dursleys. They may change their minds about giving Harry the bedroom,” Ginny pointed out.

“I wasn’t going to accept something from them without questioning everything about it. It’d be like not being suspicious if Malfoy gave me a gift,” Harry argued.

The blond teenager snorted. “Not happening. Ever. Not unless it was cursed.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “My point exactly.”

“The Dursleys can’t curse anything, though. They don’t have magic,” Katie reminded him, like he could ever forget.

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t capable or willing to make up petty reasons to punish me. It’s just self-preservation,” Harry insisted.

Ron snorted. “I didn’t believe that you knew what that was.”

Harry elbowed him in the ribs. “I know about it enough that it’s a bad thing to accept anything from someone who openly hates you.”

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Moody roared, startling everyone in the Great Hall. It was the first time he spoke since he had joined everyone. “Potter was right to question his relatives! You should never accept anything from a declared enemy!”

“Merlin’s pants, Mad-Eye! You wanna give us a heart attack?” Tonks protested. She had almost fallen off the couch. She elbowed Charlie sharply for snickering at her clumsiness.

“You should always be on alert! I’m always warning you about it and none of you listen!” He shouted. “All of you recruits think that this is a joke when we could get killed tomorrow!”

“We’re not gonna get killed tomorrow,” the metamorphmagus rolled her eyes. “We’re in Hogwarts. The safest place in the world, except maybe Gringotts. Isn’t that right, Hagrid?”

“Tha’ is righ’,” the man nodded proudly.

“Nobody’s died here in more than fifty years,” Tonks nodded satisfied. “So, I doubt anyone’s gonna die here any time soon.”

“Plus, we’re in a time bubble. Nobody can enter or get out. We literally couldn’t be safer,” Charlie agreed with her.

“Don’t ask … Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn’t fit into his first bedroom.

“They had two extra bedrooms?” Molly said with tears in her eyes. She hated it. She hated them. She hated them so much that she felt like she was going to choke on it.

“I’m gonna kill them, Remus,” Sirius growled darkly.

“No, you’re not,” the werewolf sighed.

“No. You’re right. I’m gonna make them suffer so much they’re gonna wish I’d just killed them,” the animagus growled, clenching his fists.

Remus sighed and shook his head. He really needed to have a talk with his friend about his murderous tendencies. They are what had gotten him chucked into Azkaban in the first place.

“He has so many things that he needs a second bedroom to put them all in?” Angelina asked perplexed. It was safer to focus on that than on the injustice of it all.

“With how many presents he got for his birthday, it doesn’t surprise me,” Alicia snorted.

“But Harry said that he broke them,” Angelina remembered. He turned towards her youngest teammate questioningly.

“That he broke them doesn’t mean that he threw them away. Most things ended up piled in there,” he explained with a shrug.

“That’s a waste of space,” Cho muttered under her breath.

“It wasn’t like they were going to use it for anything else, was it?” Padma, who wasn’t sitting too far from her, pointed out.

“If I had a second bedroom, I’d turn it into a bachelor room,” Seamus said firmly.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked perplexed. “What in Merlin’s name is a bachelor room?”

“You know, like a bachelor apartment, but a bachelor room since I’m not old enough to live on my own.”

“You’re an idiot,” Dean huffed a laugh.

“And you’re jealous. Just for that, I’m not inviting you to my bachelor room,” Seamus scoffed.

“You don’t have a bachelor room,” his best friend pointed out amused.

“But if I did, I wouldn’t invite you to it,” he insisted.

It only took Harry one trip … everything he owned from the cupboard to this room.

“You can still do that,” Ron huffed before anyone could comment on how sad it was that Harry had so few things of his own that he only needed a trip to move them. “You literally carry absolutely everything you own in your trunk.”

Harry grinned amused. “Better than to leave anything with my relatives.”

“I’m not saying that it’s a bad idea,” the redhead said. “But you could leave a few things in our room in the Burrow, you know. I know for a fact that you still have your books from first year in your trunk.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to leave them.”

“You do. I just told you to leave them in our room,” Ron said exasperated.

“Ron, if we put all of our things in our room, we’ll be the ones who have to get out,” Harry pointed out.

The redhead frowned. “We could always put them in the attic. The ghoul won’t mind. And we should put my things there too, while we’re at it. We’d have more space to walk around when both beds are out.”

“Does that mean that Harry’s trunk will stop weighing as much as all of ours put together?” Fred asked in mock relief.

“Our backs will feel so much better without having to haul that monstrosity everywhere. Mine hasn’t recovered from when we helped put it in the luggage rack,” George moaned.

“Your father put a Feather-light Charm on it,” Hermione scoffed. “I could’ve raised it with one hand.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, our dearest Hermione,” Fred argued.

“Just thinking about how much it would have weighed without the charm makes our backs ache,” George agreed.

He sat down on the bed and stared … looked as though they’d never been touched.

“It’s like a storage room,” Percy said, blinking in surprise.

“There are so many things in that room. And they’re all broken or have never been used,” Tonks shook her head. “I don’t understand why he’d want to keep them if they’re broken.”

“Because he’s stupid. He could’ve used the space to make himself a bachelor room,” Seamus huffed.

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved his best friend hard enough that he almost fell off the couch. “Shut up, you idiot. No one wants a bachelor room but you.”

“Dudley would probably want one,” Harry chipped in with a grin.

Seamus scrunched up his nose. “What are you trying to do? Making me give up on my dream of a bachelor room just because that pig of a cousin that you have also wants one?”

“Is it working?” Harry teased him.

“… Maybe.”

They roared with laughter when they heard that. It was such a Seamus thing to say.

“Mine would be a million times better than his, though,” the boy argued, but that only made them chuckle even more.

Harry shook his head with a grin. “I doubt Dudley would ever think of having a bachelor room. He just wanted a place to put all his broken things and prove that he had them, like the first television they bought him.”

“How many televisions has he had?” Hermione asked with a grimace of distaste.

“I’m not sure… Four? Five?” Harry tried to take a guess. “It depends on how many temper tantrums he’s had since he went to Smeltings.”

“But doesn’t he like those tevelisions things?” Ron asked confused.

“He does. But he’s stupid,” Harry shrugged. “You’ve already heard that he broke the first one with a kick because his favourite programme was cancelled.”

“It’d be like Ronnie breaking his broom if the Chudley Cannons were disbanded,” Fred joked.

“Or if they lost the league. Which means that Ron wouldn’t have been able to keep his broom for more than a year,” George teased his little brother.

“Shut up,” Ron replied as his ears turned red.

“And he gave up his pet for a stupid toy?” Lavender asked upset. “I would’ve never given up Binky.”

“And he didn’t even take care of the toy,” Parvati pointed out with a grimace. “He sat on it and broke it.”

“He didn’t care. He just asked his parents to buy him a new air rifle,” Harry shrugged.

“And let me guess. They bought him a new one which was even better than the first one,” Arthur sighed sadly. How could they not care about how much damage they were inflicting upon their son?

“And the books?” Hermione intervened. “I mean, I had already guessed that he wouldn’t care much for them, but if it’s gonna become your room, you could read them.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Hermione,” Harry stopped her. “They were books of stories for little kids for the most part. Nothing too interesting.”

“You read them?” Ron asked aghast.

“No, I didn’t read them.”

“You didn’t read them?” Hermione asked, equally aghast.

“Would you just listen for a minute?” Harry interrupted them exasperated. “I read some of them,” he admitted, hurrying to explain when both of his best friends seemed outraged for very different reasons. “Only some, because I didn’t have time to read more before I got my books about magic and those were much more interesting than the books for kids,” he said, looking at Hermione.

“Okay, that’s a good excuse. I suppose,” she accepted, but she didn’t seem completely satisfied. Harry could have missed a real gem between all that crap.

“And yes, I read some books and I still do during the summer holidays,” Harry said, looking at Ron. He smirked at the betrayed expression on the redhead. “You’ve met my relatives, Ron. I prefer to spend the day reading books in my room or walking outside than to try to socialize with them more than strictly necessary.”

Ron stopped in his tracks and grimaced. “Point taken, mate.”

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley … that room… make him get out…”

“He’s just annoyed because now he won’t be able to have his bachelor room,” Seamus nodded his head with mock sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I couldn’t have mine.”

“You don’t have one!” Dean exclaimed, raising his arms in amused exasperation.

“I know. It’s a tragedy that I’ll remedy in the future.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “You better go about remedying it in a different way than Dudley, though. Your mum will tan your hide if you dare to scream at her like that.”

“I’ll be subtle and cunning about it,” Seamus nodded with determination.

“Dude, you wouldn’t know cunning if it hit you in the face,” Dean snorted. “You’re not a Slytherin.”

“I could learn,” he argued.

“And who are you going to ask to teach you?” Dean challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Seamus stared at the Slytherins pensively, but none of the faces seemed even a little willing with his endeavour of learning how to be cunning to get his own bachelor room. In fact, some of them, like Pansy or Malfoy, seemed ready to hex his mouth if he dared to ask.

“I’ll find someone,” he said finally.

Dean snorted again. “Yeah, you do that.”

Harry sighed and stretched … rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.

Charlie snorted. “Now, that’s an exaggeration if I ever heard one. Don’t do that, Harry. We don’t need another Percy in the family,” he joked.

“One is more than enough,” Bill agreed.

“I just wanted my letter,” Harry shrugged. “It was the first one I received and I didn’t even know who had sent it. Besides, anything that could rattle my relatives that much had to be brilliant.”

“Now, that’s more like it,” George nodded approvingly.

“We always knew that you loved to make a little mayhem and chaos wherever you go, Harrikins,” Fred said, wiping a fake tear off his eye.

“You’d probably get another letter anyway,” Neville murmured.

“Of course, he would. The chapter was called The letters from no one,” Luna pointed out before going back to humming distractedly.

“Oh,” Neville blinked in understanding. He turned to look at his roommate. “You really got a second letter.”

“Yep,” Harry nodded with a big grin. A second one, and a third one, and a fourth one, and too many too count after that. Not that the others knew it, though, and he wasn’t going to tell them. That would spoil all the fun.

“I’ve never heard of anyone who got two first letters of Hogwarts,” Tonks mused with an amused grin. “Your relatives are gonna hate it, Harry.”

“They did,” he agreed.

“Did they hurt you because of it?” Sirius interrupted, looking grave and furious.

“They had other things to worry about at the moment,” Harry dismissed.

“Like what?”

“You’ll see.”

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley … still didn’t have his room back.

“Oh, my. Poor little thing,” Fred cooed in mock sympathy. “Can you imagine, Feorge, the shock of being denied something?”

“And he put so much effort into getting it, Gred. He was even sick on purpose,” George agreed.

“I think it’s about time that they tried to teach their son some manners and show him that he can’t get everything in this life,” Arthur said, looking sad and approving at the same time. “Although, it’s a bit disappointing that they allowed it to get to this point.”

“He paid his frustration on his pet again,” Lavender said disgusted. “It wasn’t that poor tortoise’s fault.”

“It worries you more that he threw his tortoise than the fact that he kicked his mother and whacked his father with his stick?” Hannah Abbot asked incredulous. And, okay, maybe Vernon and Petunia Dursley had had it coming for spoiling him rotten, but she hadn’t thought that Dudley could get away with even that without consequences.

Alicia shuddered. “I’d be grounded until I was eighty if I did that.”

“Grounded?” Fred snorted.

“We’d be six feet under,” George agreed.

“I’d move to the other side of the world to hide from mum’s fury,” Charlie said.

“You and me both, brother,” Bill agreed.

Tonks snorted and looked at them. “You both moved to the other side of the world as soon as you graduated from Hogwarts, remember?”

“That’s got nothing to do with it,” Charlie denied vehemently. “I was just following my passion.”

“Me too. My passion. Besides, breaking curses in Egypt for the goblins is much, much safer than even thinking about kicking mum or hitting dad,” Bill said.

“Not to mention dragons. Their temper has nothing to do compared to mum’s,” Charlie nodded.

“How do you think we should take that, dear?” Mrs. Weasley whispered to her husband.

The man smiled and kissed her forehead. “You should take as the fact that we did good with those boys and they’ve grown up to be capable and independent young men who know not to mess with you,” he said, wrapping an arm around her to pull her closer.

She smiled and leant against him. “We did good, huh?” She repeated, looking at all of her children.

“Very,” he nodded, leaning his cheek on top of his head.

Harry was thinking … wishing he’d opened the letter in the hall.

“Told you,” Hermione sighed.

“Should’ve thought of that sooner, mate,” Ron shrugged sympathetically.

“I told you that I didn’t think about it!” Harry exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “I was just happy that I got a letter in the first place.”

“To be fair, it was unthinkable that they’d take your first letter of Hogwarts from you,” Tonks conceded. It was, like, sacred or something.

“They have no concept of boundaries,” Angelina scoffed.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt … made Dudley go and get it.

“Wow, now that’s a change. No wonder he was in shock,” George blinked. “I’m in shock and I’m not the one they made go get the mail.”

“After denying him something for the first time in his life. It’s a miracle that it wasn’t too much for him,” Fred nodded with mock seriousness.

“At least they’re trying to be nice to Harry now, even if it’s just because they’re afraid of wizards,” Molly said, trying to stay positive.

“A bit late for that, isn’t it?” Sirius growled darkly. “About ten years too late.”

“I think it’s a pity that they didn’t send Harry to get the mail this time,” Bill intervened before anyone could comment about the animagus’ words. “He could’ve found the second first letter and hide it until he could read it later.”

“Maybe it didn’t come then. Maybe it arrived later with an owl,” Padma mused.

They heard him banging … another one! ‘Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive —’”

“Or maybe it did,” Padma frowned. She looked at Harry. “How did you get it? You’d have to fight your cousin for it and we’ve already seen that you can’t win a fistfight against him.”

Harry smiled. “I got it in the end. Don’t worry.”

“What does that mean?” Dean asked confused.

“It means that this second first letter of Hogwarts wasn’t the last one that Harry got,” Hermione realized.

“You received more?” Neville asked wide-eyed.

“I didn’t get that one,” Harry confirmed. “Even if I could’ve taken it from Dudley, there’s no way my uncle would’ve allowed me to read it.”

“Just how many first letters of Hogwarts did you receive, mate?” Ron asked surprised.

“A lot,” Harry snorted. “You’ll see.”

“Either way, your cousin’s an idiot, Harry,” Dean snorted. “He should’ve hidden the letter to be able to read it by himself later.”

“Dudley Dursley would’ve never ended up in Slytherin. He’s neither subtle nor cunning,” Seamus nodded in agreement.

“Of course, he would’ve never ended up in Slytherin. He’s a muggle,” Malfoy spat.

“But if he were a wizard, he wouldn’t be a Slytherin,” Seamus argued hotly.

“He wouldn’t be a Ravenclaw either. He doesn’t like learning or studying and he prefers to hit things instead of thinking them through,” Padma added.

“He wouldn’t be a Hufflepuff either,” Hannah snorted. “He wouldn’t last a day in our house. He doesn’t work hard and he has zero patience.”

“He’d be right next to the kitchens, though. I bet he’d love that,” Pansy sneered with a cruel smirk.

“At least we’re not in the dungeons like you,” Susan replied with narrowed eyes.

“What we know for sure is that Dudley Dursley wouldn’t be in our house,” Ernie Macmillan intervened before the girls could come to blows.

“Wait, are you saying that he’d be a Gryffindor?” Dean spluttered. “Are you mad?”

“He’d never be a Gryffindor!” Colin intervened red-faced. He didn’t want to be in the same house as Harry’s cousin.

“Well, if we can all agree that he wouldn’t be a Slytherin,” Blaise Zabini reasoned with a smirk.

“Nor would he be a Ravenclaw,” Terry Boot added.

“And he wouldn’t be a Hufflepuff,” Justin Finch-Fletchley grinned.

“He can only be a Gryffindor,” Cedric Diggory finished amused.

“You’re not saddling us with that idiot!” Seamus protested angry. “He isn’t brave nor chivalrous.”

“You aren’t exactly the epitome of chivalry, Finnigan,” Padma observed.

“But Dudley Dursley is, in fact, stubborn and short-tempered,” Michael Corner pointed out.

“That’s not fair! You’re short-tempered too! You were in a bad mood for weeks after Gryffindor defeated Ravenclaw in quidditch last year!” Dean accused him.

“That… That’s not true!” Michael spluttered.

“It’s a little bit true,” Anthony Goldstein contradicted him.

His friend glared at him. “Whose side are you on?!”

“Dudley Dursley may not even want to come to Hogwarts,” Luna said suddenly, stopping all the discussions in an instant. “There are other schools of magic and he may prefer to be as far away from Harry as possible.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Harry smiled a little. “In fact, if he were a wizard, I’d very much prefer him to be in another school.”

“Not in Beauxbatons,” the veela-look-alike scoffed in disdain.

“Nor in Durmstrang. He’d be hexed the first day,” Viktor Krum sneered with his thick accent.

“I zink ze boy would want to stay as close to ‘is ‘ome as possible, which means zat ‘e would go to ‘Ogwarts,” the blond girl finished triumphantly.

Harry frowned. “That… That I can’t deny. He may have been interested in Durmstrang, but, if it’s somewhere as cold as it seems, he wouldn’t have wanted to go,” he said. And since he was the one that knew his cousin the most, the others didn’t even argue.

“He still wouldn’t be in Gryffindor. I’d go live in the Forbidden Forest before having to share a bedroom with him for seven years,” Ron said vehemently.

“Thankfully, if Dudley Dursley were a wizard who attended Hogwarts, the decision of which house he’d end up in wouldn’t be ours to make, but the Sorting Hat’s,” Dumbledore intervened before the discussions could begin anew.

“I’d pay that old hat to put him in literally any other house,” Ron murmured under his breath.

“Unfortunately, I think that Dudley would ask the Sorting Hat to be put in Gryffindor,” Harry replied in the same tone with a grimace.

“So? He can ask all he wants. It’s the Sorting Hat’s decision,” the redhead snorted.

Harry didn’t reply. Ron was in for a surprise when they got to their sorting.

With a strangled cry, Uncle … Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind.

Tonks snorted. “You tried to wrestle your uncle for the letter?” She asked amused. “There’s no way you’d win.”

“I had to try,” Harry shrugged.

The metamorphmagus snorted again. “You might as well have been wrestling a troll to take his club or his food.”

Harry had to make an incredible effort to keep his face blank instead of bursting out laughing like he wanted to do. It didn’t help that he could sense Ron and Hermione laugh quietly on either side of him. “Yeah. Ha. Wrestle a troll. My uncle’s not a troll.”

“I think he’s the closest thing to one you could find in the muggle world,” Bill mused. “He’s big, ugly and not very smart.”

“And he wrestles with his son to solve the conflicts,” Charlie added amused. “He shares a lot of treats with trolls, now that I think about it.”

“And our little Harrikins wrestled with him too. We’re so proud of his craziness,” George grinned. “It was about time that he did something like that.”

“It had been a pretty tame chapter so far,” Fred agreed. “Wrestling the closest thing to a troll that you can find in the muggle world adds just the spiciness it needed.”

Ron and Hermione were having trouble keeping his laughter in check. Thankfully, the attention was focused on the discussion and on their best friend.

“Stop laughing,” Harry hissed, elbowing them sharply while trying to be discreet about it.

“You have to admit that it’s a bit ridiculous, Harry,” Hermione giggled behind her hand.

“It’s almost like they’re doing it on purpose,” Ron agreed gleefully. “You should’ve told us that you practiced ahead of time for Halloween.”

“Shut up,” Harry hissed, elbowing him again. “You want someone to figure it out? I thought you said you didn’t want your mum to find out things like that sooner than she absolutely had to!”

Any mirth on Ron’s face vanished in an instant when he thought of that. “Good point,” he gulped. He eyed his mother uncertainly. “You think that’ll appear in the book?”

“No clue. I hope not, but if my life with the Dursleys is appearing…” Harry grimaced.

“Goddammit,” Ron cursed.

After a minute of confused fighting, … with Harry’s letter clutched in his hand.

“Second first letter was a failure too,” Alicia sighed. “Pity.”

“Not a pity. It gets better now,” Harry grinned as he discreetly rubbed his forearm, which was smarting sharply like it had just been hit with Dudley’s stick.

“Is it bruised?” Hermione murmured in concern.

Harry immediately stopped. “What is?” He asked innocently.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “The book just said that everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick. Including you,” she snapped. She grabbed his arm to pull his sleeve up and check for herself if there were bruises, but there was nothing.

“I’m fine, Hermione. It’s not I was actually hit with it now,” Harry said, gently freeing his arm from her grasp. “It just feels like it, but I’m not really hurt.”

She gritted her teeth. “You can’t hide these things, Harry.”

“It was just a stick, Hermione. The most I got was a few bruises. We all know that I’ve had much worse,” Harry reassured her.

“Still. Don’t try to hide them from us, Harry. Please,” she added when he opened his mouth to argue.

He sighed and deflated. “Alright. But you can’t fuss. I’m fine,” he bargained.

“Deal,” she accepted.

“Go to your cupboard — I mean, … he’d make sure they didn’t fail. He had a plan.

“A plan? What kind of plan?” Colin asked wide-eyed.

“A good one,” Harry answered.

“A stupid one,” Ron and Hermione said at the same time.

Harry stared at them betrayed. “What kind of friends are you?” He accused them.

“The ones that call you on your bullshit,” Ron smirked.

“You have to admit that you’re better at thinking on your feet than you’re at planning ahead of time, Harry,” Hermione reasoned.

“Your plans never work, Harry. Something always wrong and you’ve never planned for things like that,” Ron told him.

“I always have a plan B,” Harry huffed.

“Yeah. Ask Hermione. That’s your plan B,” the redhead snorted.

Harry wanted to deny it, but he really couldn’t. His plan B was always to ask Hermione for help and she usually found a solution. “Well, you can’t deny that it’s a good plan B,” he defended himself.

The girl rolled her eyes. “You’re both hopeless,” she said, but her lips were twitching upwards.

“Without you?” Harry grinned.

“Always,” Ron and Harry finished at the same time with a chuckle.

The repaired alarm clock … the next morning.

“You fixed it yourself?” Remus asked surprised.

Harry shrugged, a little uncomfortable with so many surprised stares fixed on him. “I’ve always had a knack for fixing small things like that.”

“It’s no wonder. You had to learn to fix them if you wanted to have them since your relatives wouldn’t buy you things that weren’t broken,” Sirius scoffed.

He was so furious. His godson shouldn’t have had to grow up like that. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to make the Dursleys for everything they had done, he wanted to make them suffer before killing them slowly and painfully.

It was even worse because he seemed to be the only one genuinely upset about their treatment of Harry anymore. It was like everyone had gotten used to it and they weren’t faced by it anymore. Why weren’t they angry too on Harry’s behalf? Why weren’t they planning revenge on the Dursleys? Didn’t they care about Harry?

“Oh, Harrikins, you’re gonna become dad’s best friend now that he’s found that you can fix muggle things,” Fred said loudly, distracting everyone from Sirius’ comment.

“You’re gonna have to find a new best friend, Ronnikins,” George said in mock sympathy. “Dad isn’t gonna let him go now that he knows Harry can fix all the trinkets he has in the broom shed.”

“It’s true that I’d appreciate some help fixing a few things to learn how they work…” Arthur said, staring at Harry hopefully.

“I’m not that good, Mr. Weasley,” Harry said hesitantly. He didn’t mind helping the man with his little projects, but he didn’t want to disappoint him.

“No problem, Harry,” he assured him. “I don’t mind if it doesn’t work, but maybe you could show me how you fixed the alarm clock?”

Harry smiled. “That I can do,” he agreed.

“Fantastic!” The man exclaimed with a huge grin.

“Now you’ve done it, mate. He’s not gonna stop pestering you all summer,” Ron snorted.

Harry turned it off … the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first.

“That’s not such a bad plan,” Colin said pensively. “In fact, it’s great!”

“Just wait for it,” Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He may not have realized that it’s Sunday or something like that.”

“What does it matter if it’s Sunday or not?” Percy frowned.

“The postmen don’t work on Sundays, which means that there’s no mail delivered that day,” she explained.

“Which is why owls are much more efficient than postmen,” Seamus nodded.

“But even if it’s Sunday and he hasn’t realized, he can always wake up early the following day, on Monday, and try again, can’t he?” Colin insisted. It wasn’t a bad plan. It really wasn’t.

“It wasn’t Sunday,” Harry scoffed. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“Not stupid. Distracted,” Hermione corrected him. “You don’t always think of little details like that.”

“Well, I did this time. And it wasn’t Sunday,” he defended himself.

“Does that mean that your plan worked and you finally got your letter?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry opened his mouth and closed it with a snap. “No,” he admitted grudgingly. “Something went wrong.”

Hermione grinned amused and looked at Colin. “Told you.”

His heart hammered … “AAAAARRRGH!”

“Holy Merlin! What was that?” Tonks exclaimed startled.

“It sounded like a dying whale,” Alicia said, scrunching up her nose.

“More like Moaning Myrtle on one of her worst days,” Lavender corrected her with a shudder.

“That makes no sense. What would Moaning Myrtle be doing in Privet Drive?” Padma huffed. “It’s not like she follows Harry around.”

“She wouldn’t even know him since she’s always in the girls’ bathroom of the second floor,” Hannah added.

“Right,” Harry nodded, doing his best to keep a straight face.

“Well, the guess about the dying whale doesn’t really make sense either,” Angelina said, looking at Alicia apologetically. “There’s no way there could be a whale in Privet Drive either. The ocean is miles away from it.”

“It’s a banshee!” Dennis Creevey exclaimed.

“Don’t be an idiot. A banshee doesn’t sound like that,” Daphne Greengrass scoffed.

“And how would you know?” The younger boy argued. “Have you ever heard one?”

“Dennis, banshees sound much more horrible than that,” Seamus told him with a shudder. “They can leave you deaf, or even kill you, if you hear them.”

“Then what was that?” Neville asked timidly.

“Maybe if you dunderheads finally shut your mouths and allowed the reading to continue, we’d find out,” Professor Snape intervened, his voice frosty enough that he didn’t have to raise it to silence all the discussions.

Harry leapt into … — something alive!

“Oh, Merlin. How could we not have guessed earlier?” Fred asked delighted.

“There is a whale in Privet Drive,” George said gleefully.

“What are you talking about?” Angelina said confused. “No, there isn’t.”

“Oh, but there is,” Fred insisted.

“And it sounds just like that when it’s disturbed,” George nodded seriously.

Lights clicked on upstairs … making sure that Harry didn’t do exactly what he’d been trying to do.

“Brilliant!” The twins exclaimed.

“It’s not brilliant. Harry didn’t get his third first letter either,” Angelina said, but she was smiling in amusement.

“It’s worth it,” George said dismissively.

“He’ll get the fourth one,” Fred agreed with his twin.

“I have to admit that I didn’t think this was what could go wrong,” Hermione confessed amused. “I had no idea that your uncle could guess what you were gonna do.”

“I did live with them for ten years straight. Whether you want or not, we were bound to get to know each other even a little bit,” Harry grimaced.

He shouted at Harry … see three letters addressed in green ink.

“I stand corrected. He’ll get the sixth first letter. Not the fourth one,” Fred said.

“Still worth it,” George said. “Besides, if there are gonna be more letters arriving each morning, it’ll be easier for Harry to get his hands on one.”

“But how many more are they gonna send? I mean, someone had to have noticed that something wasn’t right when they had to send five first letters in three days,” Susan argued uncertainly.

“They had to see that it’d be easier to simply give Harry his letter personally,” Lisa Turnip agreed.

“Does that mean that a wizard will have to go visit Harry like they do for muggle-borns?” Neville asked.

“Even if he isn’t a muggle-born, he might as well be one since he has no idea that magic exists or that he’s a wizard,” Luna said softly.

“That’s right. He’d have no idea where to buy his things for school or how to get to Hogwarts,” Terry Boot realized wide-eyed.

“Man, that’s weird,” Ernie Macmillan frowned. He, like all pure-bloods and most half-bloods, had grown up knowing the name of Harry Potter, who, apparently, had no idea that they knew about him. He was going to give himself a headache if he kept thinking about how messed up that was.

“Who told you, Harry?” Anthony Goldstein asked eagerly.

“You’ll see,” Harry grinned. “You’ll never guess who it was,” he said, sending a fleet glance at one blushing half-giant.

“I want —” he … tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes.

“He’s rubbing it in your face!” Sirius exploded enraged.

“He seems to take pleasure in the pettiest things,” Fred commented quickly.

“To be fair, his back must be hating him a little bit for having slept on the floor just to get those letters. I’d pay my frustration on them too,” George said casually.

“Except if they were first letters of Hogwarts,” Fred added.

“Except if that were the case,” George agreed.

“I’m surprised by the fact that you tried to argue about getting the letters,” Katie said amused as she stared at her teammate. “Even I can see that it was a lost cause.”

“Haven’t you learnt by now that Harry’s all about fighting for lost causes?” Angelina said, staring at Harry teasingly.

“I can still hear Oliver. ‘Get the snitch or die trying, Harry!’,” Alicia said, imitating her old captain as best as she could.

“What?!” Sirius startled. When had that happened? Who had told his godson to do that?

“And what did Harry do? He said that he wanted to face the rogue bludger on his own,” Alicia continued like the animagus hadn’t talked.

“What?! A rogue bludger?!” Sirius exclaimed wide-eyed. What the hell had happened?

“I didn’t do that bad then,” Harry defended himself with a grin. He was so grateful for what they were doing, ignoring all the overprotective comments that Sirius made to avoid riling up the man even more.

“Mate, it broke your arm,” Ron pointed out.

“What?! A broken arm?!” Sirius shouted.

“Better my arm than my head,” Harry told his best friend. He grimaced. “That would’ve caused an even bigger mess.”

There were several more grimaces when people remembered what had happened to Harry’s arm when the match had ended. It hadn’t been pretty.

“Point taken,” Ron agreed.

“What the hell happened?!” Sirius blew up.

“Sirius Black! Watch your language in front of the children!” Molly Weasley scolded him.

“I want to know what happened to Harry!” He said furious.

“You’ll find out in the second book,” Harry cut in, staring at him firmly.

“Harry…” He growled.

“I’m not gonna tell you, so the more you argue, the longer it’ll take you to find out,” his godson insisted, not budging even a little bit.

Remus put a hand on his friend before he could retort. “Leave it, Sirius,” he murmured.

He whirled around to stare at him. “Leave it? I can’t leave it!”

“You’ll find out eventually,” the werewolf reasoned. “But you know that Harry isn’t gonna tell you anything. He’s as stubborn as James and Lily put together.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Do you know what they’re talking about?” He accused.

“No, I don’t,” Remus sighed. “But it doesn’t sound like Harry was seriously hurt.”

“He got a broken arm!”

“Which you know that Madame Pomfrey can heal in minutes,” Remus told him calmly.

Sirius gritted his teeth. He hated it. He hated that his godson was keeping things from him. Why did he have to keep secrets from him?

Uncle Vernon didn’t go to work … nailed up the mail slot.

“He… He nailed up the mail slot?” Dean said confused.

“Wouldn’t that prevent them from getting all of their mail?” Seamus asked, tilting his head.

“Actually, it wouldn’t do anything,” Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. “He’s being an idiot.”

“The postman would just slide them under the door if he can’t put them in the mail slot,” Justin agreed. “It’s what they do to deliver letters to my house since we don’t have a mail slot.”

“What if he nailed up the bottom of the door to block that space too?” Ernie asked curiously.

“They could knock on the door,” Hermione said like it should be obvious.

“What if they don’t answer the door?” Anthony wondered.

“The postman would figure something out. It’s their job to deliver the letters,” Hermione said firmly.

“See,” he explained … not sure that’ll work, Vernon.”

“At least your aunt has some common sense,” Percy frowned. “On the other hand, I think your uncle is about to suffer a psychotic breakdown.”

“You think?” George asked hopefully.

“That would be fantastic,” Fred said enthusiastically.

“He didn’t suffer a psychotic breakdown. At least, I don’t think so,” Harry said hesitantly. “He did lose his mind a little bit, though.”

“What do you mean?” Tonks asked.

“I mean that nailing up the mail slot is something tame compared to what he did later,” Harry smirked.

“He should’ve just listened to Petunia,” Snape scoffed under his breath. “She’s the one who knows more about magic and the wizarding world out of all of them.”

“I think I’d pity him a little bit if he hadn’t treated Mr. Potter like he did,” Professor Sprout said pensively.

“I’m with you there. Instead, I’m cheering on whoever is sending the letters to figure out more ways to drive that muggle crazy,” Flitwick said gleefully.

“It wasn’t me. I don’t remember ever having to send more than one first letter,” McGonagall shook her head with a frown. “I have no idea about who could it be.”

“Probably whoever had to explain everything about magic to Potter,” Flitwick said. “I just know that it wasn’t me.”

“Nor me,” Sprout shook her head.

“It wasn’t me either,” McGonagall pursed her lips. They were usually the ones who had to visit the muggle-borns to explain things.

They turned to look at their colleague questioningly. Snape raised an eyebrow and sneered at them.

“You think I was the one who told Potter that I was a wizard?” He scoffed disbelievingly. “I’ve never gone to tell any muggle-born. I certainly wasn’t gonna tell Potter.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait to find out with everyone else,” Flitwick sighed, but he didn’t seem too disheartened about it. “In the meantime, I’m gonna enjoy the show.”

“Oh, these people’s … knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

“Was it… Was it really a piece of fruitcake?” Neville asked perplexed.

“It was. Unfortunately,” Harry grinned in amusement.

“Was it several days old so it was hard as a rock?” Dean asked baffled.

“No. In fact, he squeezed it between his fingers,” Harry snickered. “He was furious when he had to clean himself up.”

“How in Merlin’s name did he think that he was gonna be able to knock a nail with it then?” Terry asked flabbergasted. That man made less and less sense the more they read about him.

“Maybe he got it mixed up with the hammer,” Justin hesitantly. “Although, I’m not sure how you can get them mixed up.”

“You can’t,” Charlie snorted. “Percy’s suggestion of a psychotic breakdown is looking more and more likely.”

On Friday, no less than twelve letters … forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

“Told you that the postman would slide the letters under the door,” Justin said smugly.

“It was one dedicated postman, that’s for sure. I’ve never heard of letters being delivered through the bathroom window,” Dean chuckled.

“I’m not convinced it was the postman who did that,” Hermione frowned. “They would’ve knocked on the door before trying to find a window to push the letters through.”

“So, you think that it was whoever was sending the letters?” Lavender asked.

“Probably. I’m not sure,” Hermione shrugged. “We’d have to ask that person.”

“Do you know who it was?” Hannah asked curiously.

“If they were the same person who told Harry about magic, then yes, I know who it was,” Hermione nodded. Of course, she knew. It was about her best friend.

“And you’re not gonna tell us?” Susan asked hopefully. “Because I can tell you right now that they have my most sincere congratulations for driving the Dursleys crazy.”

“You’ll find out soon,” Harry said.

“And, Harry, how couldn’t you get one of all the letters that came that day?” Angelina demanded. “It says that at least a dozen arrived that morning.”

“Uncle Vernon got all the letters that came through the cracks on the door and Aunt Petunia was the first one to use the bathroom downstairs. She was the one who found them,” Harry said disgruntled. “If I had known that they would arrive through other means than the door, I would’ve checked everywhere.”

“You’ll get the next one,” Fred shrugged.

“Whichever first letter that it’ll be. I don’t even know anymore how many you’ve received now,” George snickered.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home … burning all the letters,

“He burnt them again?” Tonks choked out.

“How can you burn any first letter of Hogwarts?” Charlie said horrified.

“It’s, like, almost sacrilege to do that. It’s definitely a huge disrespect,” Bill shook his head.

“They weren’t even for him. They were for Harry,” Katie said upset.

“Unfortunately, just like he can read Harry’s mail because he’s his legal guardian, technically he can destroy it too without repercussions if he considers that it’s something harmful,” Hermione said, pursing her lips angrily.

“And since they were about magic, there was nothing more harmful in his eyes,” Harry said.

he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up … the Tulips” as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

“He hummed what?” Ginny asked bewildered.

“‘Tiptoe Through the Tulips’,” Hermione answered. “It’s a song from Tiny Tim that was released at the end of the ’60s.”

“He was humming a song from more than three decades ago?” Ginny frowned. “Why?”

“He’s jumpy and nervous and he has the feeling that he’s being watched,” Tonks grinned. “It’s fantastic.”

“He’s gonna end up as paranoid as Mad-Eye,” Ron murmured. Not that he could blame the ex-auror after he had been stuffed in a trunk for weeks, but Harry’s uncle had no excuse.

Harry snorted. “Worse,” he told his best friend.

Ron looked at the old ex-auror discreetly. The magic eye was constantly looking around for threats and the man seemed about to hex anyone who even breathed in his direction.

“It can’t be worse than that, Harry,” he said sceptically.

“Just wait,” he grinned.

On Saturday, … get out of hand.

“Dude, I think they had already gotten out of hand,” Terry said uncertainly. “Your uncle had locked all of you up inside the house and hadn’t let you out for two days straight. I’d go crazy being holed up at home for two days straight.”

“He got worse,” Harry told him. “Much worse.”

“How can he get worse? What is he gonna do? Bury the house in a pile of dirt so that not even air or light can get in or out?” Padma asked sarcastically. She frowned when Harry didn’t seem surprised nor amused. “I was joking, Harry,” she told him dryly.

“He didn’t bury the house, but what he did wasn’t any less crazy,” Harry shrugged.

Twenty-four letters … shredded the letters in her food processor.

“In the eggs? The letters were inside the eggs?” Ron asked baffled. He made a shape with his fingers that was roughly the size of an egg. “How could a letter fit inside an egg?”

“Very carefully. Rolling it up, like it says, and folding it several times until it was tiny,” Dean said with a frown. He was having a hard time imagining it too.

“I’m more interested in finding out how the letters got inside the eggs,” Hermione frowned. “Maybe with a Switching Spell to change its contents with the letter…”

“Why is the milkman delivering eggs? If the postman delivers the mail, shouldn’t the milkman deliver the milk instead of the eggs?” Mr. Weasley asked confused.

“The milkman was the person that delivered milk every morning before fridges became common and people could put the food inside to keep it from going off too soon. That’s why there are many less milkmen now than it used to,” Hermione explained. “But they didn’t just delivered milk. They could also distribute cheese, butter and eggs among other things.”

“Why are they called milkmen then, if they don’t deliver just milk?” Arthur frowned. “And who pays them?”

“Honey, why don’t you wait until the break to ask all those questions?” Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “We’ll be here all day otherwise.”

Arthur stared at Hermione hopefully. She smiled and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Weasley.”

“Who on earth wants to … asked Harry in amazement.

“Told you they wouldn’t let Harry Potter go that easily,” Percy huffed. “The wizarding world had been waiting for him to come to Hogwarts for a decade.”

Harry’s smile fell as the thoughts from earlier bombarded him again. Would they have put that much of an effort into getting in contact with him if he hadn’t been Harry Potter or would he have been left with the Dursleys? Would anyone care about what had happened to him then?

Thankfully, he was distracted from his thoughts by Fred and George.

“People had been writing him letters for years,” George said.

“Our dear sister wrote him every week until the year that Ron came to Hogwarts and befriended her hero,” Fred revealed teasingly.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Ginny hissed furiously, her blush so strong that it clashed madly with her hair.

“She didn’t wanna write to him after that, though,” George shrugged, not very intimidated.

“Do you think she was expecting him to write back to her, Feorge?” Fred wondered innocently.

“I don’t know, Gred. Should we ask her dashing hero what he thinks?” George replied before they both turned towards Harry.

The boy was blushing like crazy too while he seemed to be trying to hide himself between the pillows of the couch. He was glaring at the twins. “I think that I’m gonna get to you before Ginny does and kill you myself,” he snapped embarrassed.

“I think he doesn’t like the fact that he had fanmail before he knew that he was famous, Gred,” George told his twin.

“I think so too, yeah. He’s looking quite murderous, isn’t he, Feorge?” Fred commented.

“I will kill you,” Harry threatened as he blushed even more. He did not want fanmail. The mere mention of it took him back to the detention with Lockhart, which had been an scarring experience.

On Sunday morning, Uncle … “no damn letters today —”

“That’s what you said,” Ron said, looking at Hermione.

“Yeah, the postman won’t deliver any letter nor will the milkman, but if whoever was sending the letters is already beginning to use magic to try to get them to Harry, that may not matter,” she shook her head.

“It didn’t,” Harry grinned.

“He can’t exactly stop magic with muggle means. They won’t work any better than trying to hammer a nail with a fruitcake did,” Anthony argued.

“That didn’t stop him from trying,” Harry shrugged.

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney … Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one —

“Ah, Oliver would’ve been so proud of you for having been already practicing how to catch things that fly,” Fred gave a fake sniff.

“Of course, he probably would’ve had a stroke before that when he found that, at that point, his star seeker didn’t even know that there was a wonderful sport called quidditch,” George pointed out.

“Did you finally catch a letter?” Angelina asked hopefully.

“I did, and then Uncle Vernon took it from me before I could even try to open it,” Harry sighed disappointed. “I only had a couple of seconds to try to catch one before Uncle Vernon reacted.”

“See? Oliver wouldn’t have been so happy with that,” George said.

“He would’ve made you practice every afternoon until you dropped in exhaustion,” Fred nodded.

“It would’ve been easier to grab a letter from the floor, though,” Luna said softly.

“Maybe,” Harry agreed with a shrug. “I didn’t think about it. I just wanted to get a letter and I went directly for one of those that were coming out of the fireplace.”

“Out! … threw him into the hall.

Harry winced when his shoulder throbbed painfully, but he fought the urge to grab it.

“He hurt you?” Hermione whispered.

Ron and she were staring at Harry with thinly veiled concern and slight anger and the treatment he had received. Harry had tensed up slightly like he had just been hit. It had been a movement small enough that nobody else seemed to have noticed, but they were sharing a couch with Harry. He couldn’t hide it from them so easily.

It was a good thing that nobody else had noticed because Sirius was murmuring not-so-nice things under his breath again. The more they read about the Dursleys, the more he resembled the murderer that they had believed him to be the year before. Finding out all of this was doing nothing good for him. Harry was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to learn how to erase memories to stop his godfather from killing his relatives in cold blood.

“It’s nothing. I just hit the wall with my shoulder,” Harry murmured, remembering their deal.

“You sure you’re okay, mate?” Ron asked.

“It was just a bruise. Nothing else,” Harry promised.

When Aunt Petunia and Dudley … letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

“How many letters did they arrive?” Lisa asked wide-eyed as they heard the faint noise of dozens of letters coming through the chimney.

“A lot. I don’t even know how many,” Harry shook his head.

“Holy Merlin, whoever was sending the letters was really getting desperate,” Justin whistled.

“Or fed up with the Dursleys,” Cho argued. She herself was getting fed up with them.

“Or maybe they just wanted to annoy them even more,” Cedric smirked.

“Perhaps they wanted to see if his face could turn purple enough to explode,” Dennis giggled.

“Whoever they were, we wanna meet them,” George decided.

“That kind of ingenuity is worthy of getting a firm handshake at the very least,” Fred nodded in agreement.

“I think it’s kind of ironic that the boy-who-lived was the one who had more problems than any one of us to get his first letter of Hogwarts,” Ernie snickered. “By the sound of it, he needed dozens to be able to read a single one.”

“That does it,” said Uncle … going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!”

“Okay…” Tonks said slowly. “He’s beginning to reach Mad-Eye’s levels of paranoia, which can be good sometimes, but just makes this man seem crazy.”

“He is crazy,” Neville said wide-eyed. “He ripped off part of his moustache. I’ve never known anyone to actually tear their hair out in frustration.”

“I’m a bit concerned that he’s gonna have a heart attack at this rate,” Remus commented casually. “His blood pressure must be off the racks.”

“If he has a heart attack, it’ll just save him from the suffering I’m gonna inflict upon him when I get my hands on him,” Sirius growled quietly.

“Sirius, let it go,” Remus ordered sternly under his breath while the discussion continued around them. “It’s not the time to be planning revenge against the Dursleys.”

The animagus glared at his friend. “They hurt Harry, Remus. It’s exactly the time to plan revenge against the Dursleys.”

The werewolf sighed and shook his head, but he didn’t try to reason with him. He didn’t want to get in a screaming match with Sirius in front of the Great Hall. Later, when they were alone, he could corner him and give him a stern talking to.

“The man’s like a ticking time bomb about to go off at any minute,” Hermione shook her head. “I almost don’t want to be in the blast zone when he finally explodes.”

“It depends on where the explosion is directed at,” Harry grinned.

He looked so dangerous with half his moustache … VCR, and computer in his sports bag.

“They’re finally trying to teach him something,” Arthur sighed in relief.

“I’m not sure if that can be called teaching him anything, dear,” Molly said hesitantly. “I think the man’s so scared that he just wants his son to move quickly.”

“They were scared. Terrified is more like it,” Harry nodded. “Uncle Vernon was really losing it and Dudley was getting scared of seeing his dad like that. Aunt Petunia just… She just went along with it.”

“She knew that, whatever her husband tried, it wouldn’t work if they were that determined to give Harry his letter,” Tonks nodded.

“Which is why just leaving like that is a stupid move,” Padma shook her head. “That man is just scaring his family now.”

“He got over it,” Harry reassured them. “Once I finally received my letter and he couldn’t do anything about it, he was just… resigned, I guess.”

They drove. And they drove. … shake ’em off,” he would mutter whenever he did this.

“Holy sh… crap, Harry,” Ron corrected himself at the last minute. “He really was off his rocket.”

“Like Tonks said, he was jumpy and nervous and he thought that he was being watched. He wanted to get away from them,” Harry grimaced in sympathy.

He would never like his uncle, but if there was one thing he could never deny about him, it was that he loved Dudley and Aunt Petunia and would do anything to protect them. Including trying to lose some wizards that terrified him. Other people would have fled on their own and would have left Petunia and Dudley behind since he had nothing to do with magic, but Uncle Vernon had stuck with them. Harry could respect him for that, if nothing else.

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for them, Harry,” Ron groaned.

“I’m not,” Harry assured him.

“Good. Because what they did to you wasn’t right. Nothing would ever make it right,” the redhead said firmly, staring at him in the eye to make sure that he got his point across.

“I know,” Harry agreed. He sighed. “But they were just so scared, Ron. They were so, so scared of magic. They still are. Uncle Vernon and Dudley at least. I think Aunt Petunia is more jealous than scared.”

“That still doesn’t make it right,” Hermione intervened.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry repeated. “But Uncle Vernon was just trying to protect his family. It’s the only thing that he’s been trying to do since they found me on their doorstep. I’m not defending his actions, but… fear can mess up people. A lot.”

“Harry…” Ron sighed, rolling his eyes. He knew it. He knew that his idiot of a best friend would find a way to absolve them from what they had done.

“Unless you want to have this conversation in front of the Great Hall, we should leave it for later,” Hermione whispered to them when she realized that they were beginning to attract the attention of several people.

They didn’t … or drink all day.

Harry’s stomach growled loudly enough to be heard by several people around them.

“You’re hungry?” Hermione asked startled.

Harry blushed, brushing a hand through his hair embarrassedly. “Hm… Well…”

“I told you that it wasn’t that crazy to be hungry already,” Ron interrupted, looking at Hermione smugly. “Does that mean that we can eat something?”

“We haven’t even read two chapters yet. You can’t be hungry,” the girl scoffed.

“Harry’s stomach has just proved you wrong,” Ron replied.

“Ron,” Harry intervened before they could begin arguing for real. “I’m not really hungry. But I was hungry that day.”

Ron stared at him in confusion for a minute before his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh,” he said, deflating. “I guess that makes sense. If you fall asleep when you’re asleep in the book, the same would go for hunger.”

“Does that mean that you can eat as much as you want now without feeling full, Harry?” Colin asked enthusiastically. “You could eat a thousand sweets!”

“Except that would make him sick when the spell wore off or he wasn’t hungry in the books anymore, Colin,” Hermione replied snappishly. “That he feels hungry doesn’t mean that he really is or that his body needs food right now.”

“Oh,” Colin said, deflating in disappointment. “I guess it’s better if he doesn’t eat sweets now then.”

By nightfall Dudley was howling. … never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

“That’s what you put Harry through in a daily basis, you little hypocrite,” Sirius growled.

“Because Harry cares so much about blowing up green little guys in a muggle machine,” George joked, blurting out the first thing that crossed his mind. Well, the second one. The first one was an insult for Sirius so bad that their mum would have washed his mouth with a Scourfigy.

“It’s his secret hobby. That’s why he gets into so much trouble here at Hogwarts,” Fred nodded with mock-seriousness as he continued his twin’s nonsense. “Because the muggle machines don’t work well with all the magic around them so he can’t play that game and he has to make due with whatever trouble comes his way instead.”

“Everything else, from tevelision to simple matters like food, is just a secondary concern,” George continued, ignoring the fugitive’s glare for joking about this.

“The green little guys, they’re the real enemy for Harry,” Fred said.

“You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters are nothing compared to those green little guys.”

“They’re the warming up Harry does for when he can finally face the real tough guys during the summer holidays.”

Uncle Vernon stopped … hotel on the outskirts of a big city.

“Which city? Where did he take you?” Katie asked with a frown.

“No clue. He changed directions so many times that I have no idea where we were,” Harry shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever gotten out of Privet Drive, not even to London, so…”

“You haven’t seen the muggle side of London?” Hermione asked surprised.

“I know some,” Harry said defensively.

“King’s Cross and the Leaky Cauldron don’t count,” Hermione huffed, guessing where his thoughts had turned towards.

“I saw the underground?” Harry offered hesitantly.

Hermione shook her head. “That doesn’t count either. There are so many things to see. I can’t believe… This summer, Harry. I can show both of you the most important places of London.”

“Both of us?” Ron squeaked wide-eyed. When had he gotten dragged into what was beginning to look like one of Hermione’s wild quests?

“Both of you,” Hermione said firmly. “I bet you haven’t even seen the Big Ben.”

“The what?” The redhead blinked confused. He knew it was the wrong answer when the girl’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Both of you,” she repeated sternly.

“What have you gotten us into?” Ron hissed at Harry.

“Me? What about you? She asks you what the Big Ben is and you answer ‘The what?’?” Harry replied in the same tone.

“How am I supposed to know what a big ben is?” He said defensively. “What is it? A big person name Ben? Someone important?”

“It’s clock, Ron! A huge clock! One of the most famous tourist attractions in London!” Harry huffed, fighting the urge to facepalm.

“A clock?” Ron spluttered. “They name a clock Big Ben? Why in Merlin’s name would they do that?”

“No idea, but I suspect that we’ll find out in Hermione’s tour of London,” Harry sighed.

“Oh, you will,” the girl intervened, glaring at them. The two boys blanched when they realized that they hadn’t been as quiet as they had thought.

Dudley and Harry shared a room… staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering…

“You stayed awake all night?” Alicia asked exasperated.

“Not all night. I slept some,” Harry said defensively. “I was just too nervous to sleep right away. I had no idea who was sending me the letters or if they would keep sending them now that we weren’t in Privet Drive anymore.”

“Oh, innocent, naive little Harrikins,” George cooed.

“Who had no idea of the lengths the wizarding world would go not to let you go,” Fred snickered.

Harry snorted weakly. He didn’t know if the twins’ words made him feel better or worse. It was nice to feel like he belonged somewhere, but the idea of belonging to anyone made him want to grit his teeth and hex whoever was stupid enough to consider it.

Ron and Hermione glanced at him oddly, sensing something… off about their best friend. It wasn’t the first time during the chapter, but they honestly had no idea about what could be the matter with Harry. He didn’t seem hurt, just… off. But they couldn’t grill him for answers in front of the Great Hall if they didn’t want him to clam up so quickly that they wouldn’t be able to get a word in.

They ate stale cornflakes … Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an ’undred of these at the front desk.”

“A hundred more?” Ernie exclaimed surprised.

“Isn’t that a bit overkill? They’re gonna be able to accomplish nothing by sending so many letters to the same place,” Padma frowned.

“Nothing but scare the Dursleys shitless even more,” Charlie grinned.

“Charles Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed scandalized. “I don’t want to hear that language from you ever again! Especially not in front of children!”

“Sorry, mum,” he replied sheepishly. He had become used to being away from his mother and not having her controlling his language anymore. Instead, he had spent several years now surrounded by people who worked with dragons and had the mouth of a sailor when the beasts decided to use their claws and fire against them.

“But it’s true that sending so many is just gonna scare them even more,” Bill said. “The man’s probably gonna grab his family and begin to run again like he had a horde of goblins on his heels.”

“He can’t get worse than he already is,” Tonks shrugged. She looked at Harry in time to see him grimace. “He can’t… Can he?” She asked hesitantly.

“I wish I could tell you that he can’t, but it’d be a big fat lie,” Harry said sheepishly.

She held up a … them,” said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

“And she isn’t gonna do anything?” Sirius asked angrily. “She’s just gonna stay there and stare after seeing a man hit a kid?”

“He knocked my hand out of the way, Sirius,” Harry rolled his eyes. He had barely even felt a tap from the spell this time. “It’s not like he took Dudley’s stick and whacked me in the head with it.”

“The bludgers hit us harder on any match or practice,” Angelina agreed.

“Our bruises hurt worse after some of Oliver’s worst practices,” Alicia chuckled.

“Harry’s stronger than that,” George nodded.

“He’s a scrawny, little thing with glasses, but he’s one tough scrawny little thing with glasses,” Fred agreed.

It wasn’t that they were happy with Harry’s uncle. They wanted to cut off the man’s hands for touching Harry and they wanted to scare him so badly that he wouldn’t dare to keep anything from his nephew ever again. In fact, they wanted to hex him so badly that the only way to control the urge to curse his name to hell and back was to focus on their friend, who needed them so much more and who had never done well with any kind of fussing or smothering.

“It’s still wrong! She should do something!” The animagus insisted.

“She probably thought that Harry was the one in the wrong and his uncle was just disciplining him,” Hermione sighed. “She had no way to know that Harry was, in fact, ‘Mr. H. Potter’. For all that she knew, the letter was addressed to the man in front of her and the child had just been too curious for his own good by trying to read mail that didn’t belong to him.”

“But that’s… that’s not fair. And it’s not true!” Terry said perplexed.

“She couldn’t know that,” Hermione shrugged.

“This is another reason that justifies why owls are so much better than postmen. The owls deliver the letter directly to the person it’s addressed to. No middle person who can get confused,” Anthony grumbled grumpily.

“Harry would’ve received his first letter of Hogwarts ages ago if they had delivered it with an owl,” Susan Bones agreed with a tired sigh.

“It can’t have taken much longer for him to get it. Whoever was sending the letters had to be getting tired of this game. I know that I am, as funny as it is to hear about Vernon Dursley getting more and more frustrated with the letters,” Padma said.

“Wouldn’t it be better just to go home, … Vernon didn’t seem to hear her.

“He’s not listening to her. He’s completely lost it,” Snape snorted softly under his breath.

“It’d be in his best interest to listen to her, though. She’s the one that grew up with a witch in her family, isn’t she?” Flitwick reasoned. “She’s the one that knows how futile their attempts are.”

“He’s desperate and he feels cornered,” Sprout said, a bit concerned. “We all know what animals do when they’re desperate and cornered.”

“He’s not an animal,” McGonagall said half-heartedly.

“Humans are animals too,” the head of Hufflepuff corrected her gently. “We have our own instincts of flight and fight too. And Vernon Dursley is quickly going to realize that flight isn’t an option.”

“He’s gonna lash out,” McGonagall said, pursing her lips. She didn’t want to consider what the man could lash out against.

Maybe against the perceived threat against his family. Maybe against whom he considered to be responsible for bringing that threat upon them.

She hoped it was the first case because she wasn’t going to be held responsible for her actions if that man dared to raise a hand against one of the children under her care, even if he hadn’t been one of them at that point yet.

Exactly what he was looking for, … a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

“What in Merlin’s name is he looking for?” Tonks asked warily. This wasn’t so funny anymore. This man was beginning to get dangerous if only because he was unpredictable and there was no one to stop him.

“Somewhere he considered safe. He had stopped feeling safe in Privet Drive and then in the hotel he booked us into. He wanted to stow us somewhere where nobody would be able to find us,” Harry explained. He grimaced. “Or nobody would be able to find them. I was just being tagged along by obligation.”

“But he can’t find a place like that in the muggle world when there are wizards after them,” Ernie said frustrated. “Wizards. As in, people with magic. Magic they can use to find them. They have nowhere to hide.”

“He wanted to try. He felt that they were in danger,” Harry shrugged.

“He’s the one that’s gonna end up putting all of you in danger by being a pig-headed idiot,” Parvati scoffed.

“And what was wrong with all the places that have been mentioned? The plowed field, the suspension bridge, the parking garage…” Lavender asked confused and wary.

Harry scrunched up his nose. “They weren’t isolated enough. If they had found us in a hotel in the outskirts of a random city, he wanted to find somewhere even more random.”

“My sister is right. He’s gonna be the one who’ll end up putting all of you in danger,” Padma frowned.

“Daddy’s gone mad, … asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon.

“I think he went mad the day that three letters arrived at the same time. That was when he tried to hammer a nail with a fruitcake,” Ron grimaced.

“Dudley was scared, Ron,” his father said sadly. “He was eleven years old and his father was acting so totally irrationally and out of character that he was getting scared. Not to mention that he knew as much in the dark about what was happening as Harry.”

“Harry wasn’t scared, though,” Ron pointed out.

“I was a bit, Ron,” Harry contradicted him. “I had no idea about who was looking for me.”

“Someone good,” the redhead said firmly.

“I know that now,” Harry grinned. “But I didn’t know it then.”

“Besides, we both know that Harry’s always been able to roll with anything weird that comes his way as easily as catching the snitch is for him,” Hermione said teasingly.

Harry grinned, but he didn’t answer. He knew that they wouldn’t like what he had to say, so he didn’t say anything. He didn’t say that, after so long being the weird one that nobody wanted to get close to, it was easy for him to accept weird. He knew they may want to hear what he was thinking, but it would upset them. So, he didn’t say anything.

Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, … and disappeared.

“The coast? He’s gonna make them camp out at the beach?” Lisa asked hesitantly.

“Isn’t that kind of illegal?” Justin frowned.

“In most places it is,” Hermione agreed with a frown.

“I had gotten the impression that the Dursleys loved the law,” Tonks said warily.

“They do. We didn’t camp out at the beach,” Harry told them.

“Then what was your uncle doing, Harry?” Seamus asked uneasily.

“He had found the place where we’d stay for the night. And it wasn’t the beach,” he repeated.

It started to rain. … then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry’s eleventh birthday.

“That means that day was my birthday,” Neville blurted out when he realized what that meant. He blushed furiously. He didn’t even know why he had said that.

“Happy belated birthday then, Neville,” Luna smiled warmly.

“Yeah, happy belated birthday,” Harry grinned as he was followed by several heartfelt congratulations directed towards the blushing boy.

“I bet you did remember yours, Neville, unlike this one,” Ron teased as he playfully elbowed Harry.

Harry shoved him in return. “I had a few busy days, in case you’ve already forgotten what we’ve just read, you prat,” he defended himself. “And I didn’t forget it. I just lost count of what day it was.”

“Understandable. I would’ve forgotten too,” Percy huffed.

Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun: … coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon’s old socks.

The playful mood in the air took a quick nosedive with that revelation.

“They didn’t even give you a proper birthday present when they bought thirty-seven for their son?!” Sirius roared.

“Thirty-nine. They went to buy him two more so he wouldn’t throw a temper tantrum, remember?” Tonks chipped in casually.

Charlie elbowed her sharply. “That’s not helping!” He hissed.

“He has to learn to accept sooner or later that his godson didn’t have the wonderful childhood that he had imagined for him or he’s gonna upset Harry even more and push him away,” the metamorphmagus replied sternly. She was losing her patience with her cousin’s antics.

“I get presents now,” Harry said, blushing embarrassedly but glaring at his godfather defiantly.

“A coat hanger and a pair of used socks aren’t a real present, Harry,” Sirius scoffed, getting even angrier when he heard his godson defending the actions of those monsters.

“I think that depends,” George cut in, coming to Harry’s rescue before the poor boy could blow up in front of the whole school and embarrass himself because Sirius was being an arse.

“There aren’t many good coat hangers out there,” Fred nodded. “The clothes often end up stretched and funny-looking.”

“Exactly. Good coat hangers are very rare indeed,” George said seriously.

“If they’re really soft and comfortable socks, I might love them,” Fred grinned. “I mean, it’s so difficult to find a good pair of socks that are warm and fuzzy.”

“It’s much better to get socks than books, isn’t it? Everyone is always giving books as a present,” Harry joked with a small grin.

The twins stared at him curiously, knowing that they were missing something, but not really bothered by it. It was a common thing where Harry was concerned and, besides, at least he wasn’t so tense anymore.

“Are you saying that you don’t like the books I’ve given you as presents over the years?” Hermione asked, half teasing and half insecure.

Harry grinned and linked his arm with hers. “I always love your presents, Hermione,” he said so sincerely that the girl had no option but to believe him and smile.

“Good,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

Still, you weren’t eleven every day.

“It’s a very special birthday for wizards everywhere,” Bill nodded with a smile. “As much as their seventeenth birthday.”

“To mark the beginning of your magical education and the end of the magic restriction,” Tonks grinned. “I preferred my seventeenth one. It meant that I could finally fixed everything I broke with a wave of my wand.”

“I was waiting for weeks for my eleventh one,” Ron confessed.

“I wasn’t. I didn’t even know that it was special until I got the letter of Hogwarts,” Hermione shrugged. “It’s special for me now, though.”

Uncle Vernon … long, thin package and didn’t answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he’d bought.

“What was it?” Remus asked curious and wary at the same time.

“I found out later that night,” Harry evaded the question. He didn’t think that they were going to take too lightly the fact that his uncle had bought a rifle.

“In other words, you’re not gonna tell us, which means that it’s awesome or horrible,” Seamus said.

“Taking into account that his uncle was the one who bought it and he’s actually smiling after having a psychotic breakdown that lasted for days, I’m going with horrible,” Dean announced.

“I think he was jealous that his son had a stick and he bought a new one for himself,” Seamus said with a completely straight face.

“You’re weird,” Dean snorted. “I think it was a shovel to dig up an underground cave to hide in.”

Seamus laughed. “And you say I’m the weird one.”

“I think they could be sensors to detect anyone who gets close,” Susan said.

“I think it was a huge roast beef because he was hungry after a whole day without eating,” Ron nodded with determination.

“I think it could’ve been a fishing rod to be able to catch some fish since they’re at the coast,” Hermione reasoned.

“Or some kind of trap to put at the entrance of wherever they’re gonna stay so they can trap whoever enters,” Padma mused. Harry had said that his uncle didn’t feel safe anymore, after all.

“I think it was some kind of huge lock to keep them inside the car and the letters out,” Parvati said.

“No way. It was a bunch of rolled up clothes. It doesn’t say that they took any kind of suitcase with them,” Lavender argued.

“It could be a sword to defend himself against the wizards following them. He’s lost it so much that he may think that a sword can defeat them,” Neville mumbled.

“I think it was an air rifle like the one his son broke by sitting on it,” Justin said firmly.

Ernie snorted. “An air rifle? Why would he want an air rifle? He probably bought some lights for the basement he’s gonna shove all of them in.”

“I think,” Arthur intervened before everyone could continue to voice their opinion. “That it’d be better if we continued and we found out what was really inside the package. I don’t believe we’re gonna guess it this way.”

Harry grinned innocently when some people turned to look at him to see if anyone had guessed correctly. None of them had, but there was someone that had come awfully close, so close that he had almost burst out laughing.

“Found the perfect place!” … out!”

“The perfect place?” Hermione repeated with dread.

“What could be more isolated than a plowed field, a suspension bridge and a parking garage?” Lavender asked confused.

“Whatever place he thinks that it’s perfect, it makes me want to run as far away from it as possible when he sounds so happy all of a sudden,” Charlie grimaced.

“Maybe he found a small motel somewhere at the coast. Some place discreet, where he thinks that they won’t attract attention and they won’t be found,” Mrs. Weasley said hopefully.

“Somehow, I don’t believe that was the case,” Arthur said, staring at the grimace on Harry’s face.

It was very cold outside the car.

“G-Goddammit,” Harry cursed under his breath as he violently shuddered once when he felt the biting cold of the wind and the rain drenching his clothes.

“You’re freezing, Harry,” Hermione said worried as she took the hand that he still had intertwined with her arm. She took it between both of hers and tried to rub some warmth into it even though she knew that it was pointless.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, making an effort to stop his teeth from chattering. That day he hadn’t even had a jacket with him.

“Sure, you are,” Ron snorted quietly as he discreetly pressed closer to his best friend. Harry could deny it all he wanted, but the redhead could feel him burrowing into the warmth that he and Hermione were trying to push into him without success.

Uncle Vernon was pointing … top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine.

“You have to be kidding me,” Bill blurted out incredulous.

“A shack on a rock in the middle of the ocean? That was his perfect place?” Angelina asked perplexed and worried.

“He’s gonna take his family there? I mean, I know that he really doesn’t care about Harry, but he’s taking his wife and his son to that place too,” Arthur said worried. He couldn’t imagine taking Molly or any of his children to a place like that.

“He’s completely off his rocket,” Tonks bit her lip. This definitely wasn’t funny anymore. That place didn’t sound safe and she knew that none of the Dursleys cared about Harry.

One thing was … no television in there.

“That’s what you think when you see that place?” Hannah asked, half exasperated and half bewildered.

“I was thinking about the tantrum that Dudley was gonna throw when he realized that,” Harry grinned, focusing on hiding his trembling and his chattering teeth as much as he could.

“It had to have been epic,” Ron said, trying to get the attention off Harry. He knew that the black-haired boy didn’t want anyone else to notice his predicament.

“If it was a big one for receiving one less present than the year before, I don’t want to imagine his whining when they had to stay there for the night,” Hermione snorted, following the redhead’s example.

“Storm forecast … an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-grey water below them.

“A rowboat against a storm?” Parvati gasped.

“That’s not gonna end well,” her twin shook her head with a faint look of concern.

“It doesn’t sound like it will be able to support all of you without sinking or capsizing,” Anthony pointed out hesitantly. “Especially if your uncle and your cousin weighed as much as you said.”

“But Aunt Petunia is so thin that she only counts like half a person and I was such a midget that I d-didn’t count,” Harry joked. He cursed himself when he stuttered at the end as the cold got the better of him.

“So, you finally admit that you’re a midget? About time, mate,” Ron was quick to intervene before anyone could notice Harry’s slip. He threw an arm around Harry to put him in a headlock and give him a noogie, using the excuse to discreetly rub some warmth into him.

“I said before. I’m not a midget anymore,” Harry argued, even as he leant against Ron and clung to Hermione’s hands, hidden from view by their robes. He was so grateful when Hermione didn’t let him go and Ron didn’t remove his arm from around him, even if it wasn’t technically doing anything to really warm him up. He was so cold that he didn’t even care if anyone noticed that there was something going on.

“I really hope that the boat could hold their weight because we all know who’s the first one they’d throw overboard if it couldn’t stay afloat with all of them,” Tonks murmured.

“We know that Harry was okay. He’s right there on the couch with our brother and Hermione,” Charlie reassured her softly, nudging her shoulder.

“And a little more frozen than he wants us to believe, I think,” Bill added as he stared at the three younger teenagers.

“What?” Tonks asked, focusing all of her attention on the black-haired boy. Now that it had been pointed out to her, it was easy to see the minute trembles that shook his frame and the way he was clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. “The spell’s affecting him?” She asked saddened.

“Poor kid,” Charlie grimaced. “Think it’d help to send a warming charm his way?”

“I doubt it. Besides, I think Ron and Hermione have him covered for now,” Bill said, taking note of the carefully hidden worry that the two teenagers were feeling for their best friend.

Hermione’s and Harry’s hands were hidden from view, so it didn’t take too much to guess that the girl was keeping them as warm as possible while trying not to move too much so as not to attract unwanted attention. Ron’s arm was discreetly curled around Harry’s back, pulling him as close as possible without becoming obvious about it. Yeah, they had him covered.

“I don’t think they want anyone to notice,” Charlie observed. “Not that I blame them. Mum will begin to mother-hen Harry to death if she does and I think Black is bound to try to destroy the books.”

“We better keep reading. I don’t wanna find out if Harry can get sick because of the damn spell,” the metamorphmagus said firmly.

“I’ve already got us some rations,” … rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Lavender grimaced. She shivered as she imagined how cold it must have been. It was easy to picture it with the faint sounds of the rain and the roaring waves filling the Great Hall.

“He’s putting his family in danger,” Mr. Weasley said angrily. He was gritting his teeth.

“I don’t think trying to keep the letters away from Harry is worth that odyssey,” Justin said uncertainly. “It seems a bit too dangerous for my liking.”

“And uncomfortable. They’re probably gonna get sick with how cold it had to be. I can almost imagine my limbs freezing and falling off,” Terry joked as he wrung his hands in his lap.

“No s-shit,” Harry cursed sarcastically under his breath as another violent shudder shook him. He, unlike Terry, didn’t have to imagine it.

“Your hands are freezing, Harry,” Hermione murmured as she kept trying to warm them up. It was as useless as trying to warm up a block of ice, except that Harry’s hands weren’t thawing no matter what she did. In fact, they were only getting colder and colder.

“N-No k-kidding,” Harry grimaced. “I c-can’t feel my f-fingers.”

The black-haired teen couldn’t help but curl slightly towards Ron when the redhead pulled him even closer. If they didn’t get soon to the part where he warmed up, he was going to end up in Ron’s lap. He would be mortified for the rest of his existence for curling up like a little kid in his best friend’s lap in front of everyone, but he almost didn’t care at the same time. Ron was a freaking furnace while he was an icicle that needed defrosting as soon as possible.

After what seemed like hours … was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Harry relaxed slightly as the cold lessened marginally. The walls had protected them a bit from the wind, even if it had been able to enter through the gaps. It had still been better than sitting on the boat in the middle of the ocean while getting soaked by the rain.

“Better?” Hermione asked hopefully. She didn’t release his hands, though.

Harry tried to grin at her, but he was pretty sure that it came out as a grimace. “A bit. T-Thanks.”

“You still feel like a popsicle,” Ron grumbled, rubbing his arm as vigorously as possible without anyone noticing. He hated this spell.

“A s-slightly warmer p-popsicle,” Harry joked.

“Just from the description, it sounds like the shack could be blown off by the wind at any second. Can’t the man see that? What are they gonna do if that happens?” Padma snapped, exasperated with the idiocy of that muggle.

“Three guesses to figure out who’s gonna end up without room,” Dean said through gritted teeth. “And the first two don’t count.”

“They can’t exactly throw him out, can they? They wouldn’t let him spend the night outside with that storm, would they?” Parvati said in concern.

“No,” Harry smiled reassuringly, keeping his answer short to hide the chattering.

Uncle Vernon’s rations … bag of chips each and four bananas.

“That’s not a good dinner,” Mrs. Weasley frowned. “It’s not enough food, especially if they haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“No wonder you eat so little food, mate, if you’re used to a bag of chips and a banana as dinner,” Ron grumbled. “I have snacks that are bigger than that.”

“While I agree that it’s not enough food, you’re not a good reference point, Ron. You eat enough for three people,” Hermione scoffed.

“I’m a growing boy,” the redhead protested.

He tried to start a fire … those letters now, eh?” he said cheerfully.

“He wants to burn more first letters of Hogwarts? What kind of animal is he?” Ernie gasped outraged.

“Not to mention that if he had let Harry open the first damn first letter of Hogwarts, none of that would’ve happened and they’d be warm in their own house,” Hannah grumbled.

Susan giggled. “First damn first letter of Hogwarts,” she repeated. “Never thought I’d hear that.”

“Yeah, so funny,” Terry rolled his eyes. “You can’t see it, but I’m crackling up on the inside.”

“Don’t be an arsehole,” Anthony chided him as he elbowed his friend in the ribs. “You have to admit that it’s odd at the very least.”

Terry smiled at Susan sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m just getting tired of how ridiculous the man is.”

“You and everyone else, man,” Justin sighed.

He was in a very good mood… the thought didn’t cheer him up at all.

“That’s why he put them there? To use the storm as some kind of… shield or cover or whatever against wizards?” Katie asked incredulously.

“He’s seen the letters inside the eggs, and he believes that a storm will be enough to stop the person sending them?” Alicia snorted. “He’s delusional.”

“Besides, even if, by some chance, the storm really did stop the wizards, it won’t last forever. Then what? Is he gonna keep chasing storms for the rest of his life?” Tonks rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“And even if the problem was that wizards are so useless that they can’t find a way to a tiny island that can be seen from the coast, how long did he plan on keeping you there? Forever?” Bill asked sarcastically. “You need food and a proper shelter, and there’s nothing on that rock. You can’t live there.”

As night fell, the promised storm … fierce wind rattled the filthy windows.

“Oh, Merlin. Can the shack be flooded?” Colin wondered aloud. “What if it’s flooded during the storm? What are they gonna do?”

“It won’t be flooded, Colin,” Angelina assured him.

“How do you know that?!” The younger boy exclaimed.

“Because Harry’s right there, breathing and alive instead of at the bottom of the ocean?” The girl snarked impatiently at him as he waved a hand towards her youngest teammate.

“Oh. That’s a good point,” Colin nodded, calming down a little. “But it doesn’t really mean anything. They could’ve swum back to the coast after the shack was flooded.”

“They can’t swim back to shore in the middle of a storm and with that cold,” she huffed.

“Does that mean that they’ll drown when the shack is flooded?!”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible. I don’t know why I even bother.”

“It wasn’t flooded, Colin,” Harry intervened. It was the last thing he wanted since he was still so cold that he couldn’t feel his fingers, but the boy was going to worry everyone with his stories if he kept that up. And if everyone worried, they would begin to speculate and they wouldn’t keep reading.

“Oh. Okay, Harry,” he smiled, relaxing back in his seat.

Angelina stared at Harry outraged. “Why does he believe you and not me?” She demanded indignantly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I was actually there, Angelina,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s a cheap excuse,” she muttered.

Aunt Petunia found a few … floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.

“Should it surprise me? I feel like it should surprise, but it really doesn’t,” Seamus frowned. “In fact, I was expecting it. I would’ve been more surprised if they had given Harry a bed.”

“He’s gonna get sick, sleeping on the damp floor like that when it’s so cold,” Mrs. Weasley fretted.

“I was fine,” Harry smiled at her, even as he clung to Hermione’s hands again and he leant against the furnace that was Ron.

“How can they sleep comfortably in a bed while they’re leaving a child on the floor?” Remus asked sadly. “I don’t get it.”

“They made him sleep in a cupboard when they had four bedrooms in their house. I don’t even know if the floor is an upgrade for Harry or not,” Bill joked.

“Bill,” his father called him seriously. “It’s not funny.”

“I know, dad, but it’s not a tragedy either. I believe Harry when he says that he was fine,” he replied, just as serious as his father.

The storm … shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger.

“I think I have a chocolate frog somewhere,” Ron said pensively when Harry’s stomach growled again. He was really going to lose it if he had to keep feeling his best friend shivering against his side and hearing his stomach rumbling nonstop.

“D-Don’t bo-bother,” Harry replied quietly. “H-Hagrid gave me s-some f-food when he a-arrived.”

“I can’t bite Hagrid’s food on a good day without cracking my teeth, Harry,” the redhead snorted.

“W-Wasn’t th-that bad,” Harry grinned.

“Anyway, you better be ready to eat a ton at lunch because I think my mum and Sirius are gonna pile your plate with more food than you’ve ever eaten in a week,” Ron commented, rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s arm.

“I’ll s-sneak it in-into y-yours,” Harry joked.

“You think I can eat my food and yours?” Ron smirked amused. “Are you calling me fat, Harry? I thought you were my best friend.”

“B-Bottomless pi-pit.”

“Yeah, that’s what Hermione keeps saying, isn’t it? If I really was a bottomless pit, I’d be able to eat a whole lot more, though,” he argued.

“N-Nearly bo-bottomless p-pit,” Harry amended.

“I’m a nearly bottomless pit? Huh. Maybe,” he accepted. “Not that I don’t enjoy it, mind you.”

“Unless you want someone to hear Harry’s teeth chattering, I think you better shut up now,” Hermione murmured, silencing them instantly. “And yes, Ron, you’re a bottomless pit.”

Dudley’s snores … Harry heard something creak outside.

“There was someone outside?” Lisa Turnip gasped. “I thought the shack was the only thing on the rock.”

“Maybe it was a monster,” Anthony said wide-eyed.

“And where was it before if there was only the shack there and it was empty?” Dean frowned.

“It could’ve clawed out of the sea. The rock may have been its resting place for when it wanted to sleep, but it spent most of the time swimming to eat fish and sharks and unlucky swimmers that crossed its path,” Seamus said wide-eyed as his imagination flew ahead of him.

“If that rock really was the lair of some horrible monster, it won’t be happy to come back to find his home invaded by humans,” Susan said hesitantly.

“That reminds me of the story of Goldilocks and the three bears,” Hermione remembered with a smile.

“Who and the three what?” Ron blinked confused.

“Goldilocks and the three bears,” Hermione repeated. “It’s a muggle bedtime story about a little girl that enters the house of three bears in the forest. She eats their soup, sits and breaks their chairs and sleeps in their beds.”

“That’s just rude,” Padma frowned.

“And what did the bears do when they came back and found her?” Lavender asked curious.

Justin smirked wickedly. “What do you think three bears would do to a girl that entered their home and basically trashed it? They ate her, of course.”

“They ate her?” Lavender repeated wide-eyed.

“That’s a bedtime story for kids? It’ll give them nightmares!” Anthony exclaimed.

“That’s not what happens,” Hermione scoffed, glaring at Justin briefly. “There are some versions where the bears forgive her and help her find the way back home and other versions where she runs away screaming and she doesn’t come back.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tonks frowned. “Why would the bears forgive her for eating their soup, break their chairs and sleep in their beds?”

“And it makes sense for the bears to eat soup and have chairs and beds?” Charlie asked sarcastically.

The metamorphmagus stopped and shook her head. “Right. The whole story is twisted.”

“It’s just a bedtime story,” Hermione sighed.

“It doesn’t have a very happy ending, whichever ending you want to choose. Personally, I think the most realistic one is the one Justin said,” Ernie said.

“So, you think that’s what the monster on the rock is going to do?” Hannah asked with a raised eyebrow.

“How have they decided that there was a monster? There’s no mention of a monster anywhere,” Harry murmured confused. His classmates were so weird sometimes.

He hoped the roof … might be warmer if it did.

“How could he be warmer if the roof fell on him?” Bill asked confused.

“If it hurt so much that the cold doesn’t matter anymore,” Tonks joked.

“I really hope that the roof doesn’t fall in. If Harry’s hurt before we even finish the second chapter, mum will wrap him up in so many blankets that we won’t be able to see his glasses and Black will burn all the books before we can blink,” Charlie grimaced.

“Harry doesn’t seem worried about the roof falling on him,” Tonks observed. “Although, that may be because I think he’s more worried about the possibility of losing a finger because of how cold he is.”

“Yeah, I think we better keep reading,” Bill grimaced, staring at the younger boy in concern.

Four minutes to go… full of letters when they got back that he’d be able to steal one somehow.

“You think they’d let you enter the house without checking first that there isn’t a single letter in sight?” Dean frowned sceptically.

“I can dream,” Harry forced a smile on his face. Why did they have to keep interrupting the reading? And he couldn’t even tell them to shut up without them asking questions about why and eventually finding out that his limbs felt like blocks of ice.

“I think it wouldn’t work unless the house was so full of letters that they were literally coming out through every crack on the walls, the windows and the doors,” Parvati shook her head.

Three minutes to go… the rock crumbling into the sea?

“It’s the monster,” Seamus nodded. “It has found out that its home has been profaned and it doesn’t want to use it anymore.”

“You think a monster would sink the rock and the shack to the bottom of the ocean?” Padma asked with a raised eyebrow. That story was getting out of hand.

“And it’ll build another one further from shore, further north where the water will be even colder, so that no human would ever want to try to invade it again,” the boy nodded seriously.

“Wouldn’t it be more realistic for the storm to be so strong that it’s making the weakest parts of the rock crumble?” Anthony frowned. “I think it makes more sense.”

“But more dangerous,” Dean argued. “I don’t know about you, but I’d have no idea about how to beat a storm.”

“And you know how to beat a monster that lives in the ocean and only comes to that rock to sleep?” Lavender asked sceptically.

“At least it’s an easier target to aim your spells at,” Dean shrugged. “It’s better than mother nature. That’s a whole new level I don’t wanna think about.”

One minute to go … he’d wake Dudley up, just to annoy him — three… two… one…

“You,” Hermione grumbled, squeezing his hands between hers. “Have a death wish.”

“M-My b-birthday,” Harry had the audacity to grin at her unrepentant.

“It would’ve been your last if you had woken up your cousin. I think he would’ve thrown you into the ocean and wouldn’t have let you come back inside,” Hermione huffed. The worst thing was that she wasn’t even joking. She really believed Dudley capable of doing that.

“He’s a reckless idiot, Hermione. You know that,” Ron smirked at her.

“Which is why sometimes I wonder why I put up with you two,” she grumbled, but her lips were twitching upwards.

“Y-You lo-love us,” Harry grinned at her.

“That must be the reason, yeah.”

BOOM.

“Holy Merlin! What was that?” Charlie exclaimed wide-eyed. “Was it a thunder?”

“It didn’t sound like a thunder,” Bill shook his head.

“It was the monster that’s come to eat all of them,” Seamus gasped.

“Dude, there’s no monster that can make that kind of noise,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“I thought you were on my side!”

“Ridiculous. Why would I be?” Dean replied, elbowing him jokingly.

“If it wasn’t a thunder and it wasn’t a monster, then what was it?” Neville asked wide-eyed. “It was so loud.”

“Best part of the night,” Harry intervened.

“The best part of the night? What was good about that? It sounded like the roof was really going to fall on top of your heads,” Hannah said worried.

“Just wait,” Harry grinned.

The whole shack shivered … was outside, knocking to come in.

“That was someone knocking on the door?” Tonks exclaimed surprised. “What kind of door-knocking was that? Where they trying to demolish the whole shack?”

“It had to be someone very strong to knock on the door like that,” Bill said pensively.

Charlie grinned as he realized who it was. “There’s only one person I’ve ever known to knock like that,” he grinned, his mood rising quickly. Harry may be right after all. This was the best part of the night.

There were some students already turning towards Hagrid, who was blushing under his thick beard and was wringing his hands nervously. Thankfully, Flitwick came to his rescue before they could ask questions.

“Should we start the next chapter?” He asked, redirecting their attention to the book glowing yellow.

“I think we have time to read a couple more of chapters before we’re due for a break, Filius,” Dumbledore nodded.

“Let’s continue then. I’m dying to find out who broke the news to Mr. Potter about magic,” the tiny professor said, flicking his wand at the book. He smirked impishly at the blushing half-giant. The next chapter was going to be very interesting.

Chapter Text

There were some students already turning towards Hagrid, who was blushing under his thick beard and was wringing his hands nervously. Thankfully, Flitwick came to his rescue before they could ask questions.

“Should we start the next chapter?” He asked, redirecting their attention to the book glowing yellow.

“I think we have time to read a couple more of chapters before we’re due for a break, Filius,” Dumbledore nodded.

“Let’s continue then. I’m dying to find out who broke the news to Mr. Potter about magic,” the tiny professor said, flicking his wand at the book. He smirked impishly at the blushing half-giant. The next chapter was going to be very interesting.

The Keeper of the Keys

“Keeper?” Seamus repeated. “Like in quidditch?”

“I doubt they’ll mention quidditch in this chapter, Seamus. Harry doesn’t even know that magic is real and he hasn’t received his letter yet,” Susan snorted. She looked at Harry. “Should we guess that you finally receive it in this chapter?”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned, trying to seem friendly while gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering.

“Besides, it says Keeper of the Keys. There are no keys in quidditch,” Lisa pointed out.

“Then what keeper is it talking about?” Justin asked confused.

“It’s a position in Hogwarts. The Keeper of the Keys and Grounds,” Hermione explained quickly, wanting to continue the reading as soon as possible so Harry could finally warm up.

“We have that?” Dean asked surprised. “Who is it?”

“The Keeper of the Keys and Grounds is in charge of tending the gardens, looking after various beasts at the school and taking care of whatever needs to be done in the Forbidden Forest, among other things,” Anthony chipped in. “I think I read it in Hogwarts: A History.”

“There’s someone in charge of all of that?” Ernie asked surprised. “Sounds like an awful lot of work.”

“But I have no clue about who it could be,” Hannah frowned.

“The Keeper of the Keys is also in charge of escorting the first-year students on the boats when they first arrive to Hogwarts,” Hermione smirked. She knew that would be enough for everyone to make the connection.

It worked. Like a bulb had been lit in everyone’s brains at the same time, all the students turned to look at Hagrid. The huge man was blushing furiously under his beard and was wringing his hands in his lap.

“Hagrid? I thought he was the gamekeeper!” Terry exclaimed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “That’s another name for the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds.”

“Because that’s a mouthful of a title for Hagrid,” Ron snorted distractedly. He was much more focused on the shivering lump pressed against his side. They really needed to continue the reading.

“Whoa. You work a whole lot more than I ever imagined,” Dean stated, staring at Hagrid with respect.

The man blushed even more. He wasn’t used to being praised or even acknowledged. He was just… always there, in the background, and that was fine with him. He didn’t need anyone’s praise. He was just doing his job.

“Wait, what’s Hagrid doing there?” Padma realized. Her eyes lit up. “He gave you your letter?”

“And told me the truth,” Harry nodded. “He was awesome. You’ll see,” he added, trying to steer everyone back to the readings. Fortunately for him, it worked.

BOOM … knocked again.

“That’s not knocking. Blimey, Hagrid, were you trying to bring the whole cabin down?” Fred exclaimed.

“My ears are ringing and I’m not even there. They would’ve fallen off if I had been present!” George exclaimed dramatically.

“You’re such a pair of drama queens,” Bill snorted.

“Thank you for noticing, dear brother,” George grinned.

“We live to entertain all of you,” Fred said.

“It is true that it was a tad too loud,” Tonks said, glancing at Hagrid. “He could’ve really brought the roof down on Harry’s and the Dursleys’ heads.”

“He does need to control his strength more sometimes,” Charlie agreed. He grinned at the gamekeeper. “He’s always getting better at it, though.”

Dudley jerked … the cannon?” he said stupidly.

“A cannon? What’s a cannon?” Lee Jordan asked confused.

“It’s a weapon. It’s large and heavy, so it’s usually transported on wheels,” Hermione explained. “It fires projectiles towards the enemies.”

“What kind of projectiles?” Ernie asked confused. When he thought about a weapon, he thought about his wand and what he could do with it. But his wand shot spells, and he very much doubted that the muggles could use things like that.

“Arrows? It could be arrows, like the centaurs,” Seamus mused.

“Cannons don’t fire arrows. Arrows are fired with bows or crossbows,” Dean snorted. “Cannons fire heavy balls of metal.”

“How heavy are we talking about here?” Michael asked.

“Very,” Hermione said. “Up to around forty pounds, I guess.”

“Alright, this talk about cannons is fascinating and everything,” Alicia intervened. “But why did Dudley think that there was a cannon there, in the middle of nowhere?”

“Because he’s stupid?” Fred offered.

“It says so right there in the book,” George pointed out.

“And because when cannons are fired, they make a loud noise like Hagrid did when he knocked on the door,” Hermione said. Her patience was thinning the longer they kept losing time with this nonsense.

There was a crash behind them and Uncle … been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

“A rifle?” Terry blinked. “What’s a rifle?”

“Think about a cannon miniaturized,” Hermione spat through gritted teeth. “He bought a rifle? Why did he buy a rifle?”

“T-To defend himself?” Harry answered, cursing inwardly when he stuttered.

“Why is it so horrible that he bought a rifle?” Percy asked confused.

“A rifle isn’t a toy. It can hurt a lot, or kill someone if people are careless when using it,” Justin said seriously.

“But that man wouldn’t be careless with his son in the room, would he?” Mr. Weasley asked hesitantly. A while earlier, he wouldn’t have doubted it. Now, they had read how that man had dragged his family to a tiny cabin on a rock in the middle of the sea while a storm raged around them.

“He just has to make a mistake. People usually need a permit to have and use guns like that,” Dean grimaced. “You can’t simply walk into a store and buy one.”

“Sounds to me that it’s exactly what Vernon Dursley did,” Bill said.

“It’s illegal,” Hermione spat. “He could be arrested for that.”

“Dursley could be arrested for a lot of things he has done,” Ron pointed out.

“Besides, if what you’re saying it’s true, he couldn’t have just bought it like that. Someone had to be willing to sell it to someone without a license and they’d risk getting themselves into trouble too,” Anthony pointed out.

“It could be a bad rifle. Maybe it doesn’t even work,” Lavender said.

“If it doesn’t work right, I think that’s even worse,” Dean winced.

“If he hurts Harry…” Sirius growled. He was going to kill that pig of a man.

“He didn’t,” Harry cut him off.

There was an uncomfortable silence as people felt the strain between Sirius and Harry, who didn’t seem able to see quite eye to eye. Nobody wanted to intervene, though. This was between them and they had to solve it themselves.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Justin said, breaking the silence. “I was right.”

“About what?” Ernie asked perplexed.

“I said that he had bought an air rifle,” the muggle-born said smugly.

Ernie snorted. “You weren’t right. He didn’t buy an air rifle.”

“I was righter than you,” Justin replied. “You said that he bought lights for the basement he was going to shove all of them in. But guess what? No basement and no lights. Which means I win.”

Ernie opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn’t find anything to defend himself. Finally, he closed it and crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.

“Who’s there … I’m armed!”

“You think he could hurt Hagrid?” Charlie asked, only slightly worried about the gamekeeper.

“Hagrid can look after himself,” Tonks scoffed.

“The way Hermione and the others described it, it sounded like a rifle could do a lot of harm,” Charlie insisted. He knew that muggles weren’t to be trifled with. They could be just as dangerous as wizards when they wanted to be.

“He was fine,” Harry told them with a smile.

“And you, dear?” Mrs. Weasley fretted. She knew that Harry had the tendency of overlooking his own wellbeing.

“Not a scratch, Mrs. Weasley,” he reassured her.

There was a … SMASH!

“Holy Merlin!” Colin screamed. “The roof!”

“What? Don’t be…” Angelina frowned.

“It could be the roof,” Tonks chipped in. “It sounded like something heavy had hit the floor quite hard.”

“But Harry’s fine,” Neville said, pointing at his roommate. Well, Harry was fine except for the fine tremors that he was successfully hiding from almost everyone.

The metamorphmagus paused and stared at the shivering black-haired boy. “Point taken,” she conceded.

“Maybe it didn’t hit him,” Hannah mused. “Could only part of the roof have fallen?”

“It wasn’t the roof,” Harry huffed, rolling his eyes. How did they convince themselves of these theories?

“Oh. That’s good then,” the girl from Hufflepuff grinned.

The door was hit with such force … landed flat on the floor.

“Merlin’s bal… beard,” Terry said wide-eyed. “He broke down the door?”

“He’s a beast,” Blaise Zabini scoffed.

“He’s not a beast,” Charlie glared at the boy. “He’s just strong. He has a hard time controlling it.”

“He should be more careful,” the boy from Slytherin huffed, turning his nose up.

“Hagrid wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Ron said, annoyed with the boy.

Blaise rolled his eyes. They were all stupid. It didn’t matter if that goof would or wouldn’t. What matter was the fact that he couldn’t control whether he did or not.

A giant of a man … beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

“That description sounds a bit intimidating,” Dennis Creevey pointed out shyly. He knew that the gamekeeper would never hurt anyone, but he was just so big.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Katie mused, staring at the half-giant. “It’s accurate, though.”

“It makes you wonder what our descriptions are gonna be,” Bill grinned, staring at Harry curiously.

“Not bad,” Harry grinned. At least, he hoped they weren’t bad. He didn’t exactly remember what he had thought of each person he had met the first time he had seen them.

“That better be true,” Ron joked. He put the arm he had around Harry higher, curling it around his shoulders with the pretext of giving him another noogie. When the door of the cabin had opened in the book to let the icy wind enter, the shivers racking Harry’s frame had increased tenfold again.

“I’m sure that Harry didn’t think anything bad about anyone one of us,” Hermione said.

The giant squeezed his way … picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame.

“Better?” Ron muttered when he felt Harry relax beside him.

“Yeah. A b-bit,” Harry sighed, letting his eyes close for the briefest of moments. Being so cold for so long was sapping his energy faster than he had anticipated.

“I think your hands are a bit warmer,” Hermione smiled weakly.

“And hopefully it’ll be over soon,” the redhead said, discreetly rubbing Harry’s arm up and down.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Great Hall was completely oblivious to what was going on between the three of them. They were busy watching the Weasley twins.

“Now, that’s the way to make an entrance, Hagrid!” George congratulated him.

“You scared the crap out of them!” Fred laughed.

Hagrid blushed, but a pleased grin could be seen under his beard. Usually he hated scaring anyone, even though he knew that some people found him intimidating just because of his sheer size. However, he couldn’t honestly say that he regretted having scared the Dursleys.

What he had seen about the treatment that Harry received under their care had angered him so much… He had told the Headmaster, but Dumbledore had only looked sad, not surprised. Hagrid had been shocked when he had learnt that Harry had to return to his relatives regardless of what he had told Dumbledore, but he had hoped that the Headmaster had at least talked to those people to make them see reason. Perhaps if they understood, they wouldn’t treat poor Harry so bad.

Now, after reading what they had read so far, he wasn’t sure that the Dursleys could learn. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to give them the chance to do that. Harry deserved better. Hopefully, now that the Headmaster found out about what really happened in Privet Drive, he would allow Harry to stay somewhere else during the summer holidays.

The noise of the storm … make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey…”

“You told them to make you a cup of tea?” Remus said incredulously.

“It was a long journey an’ I was soaked ter the bone,” Hagrid defended himself. It was the polite thing to do.

“Hagrid, you broke into their house!” The werewolf exclaimed exasperated. “They were hoping that you wouldn’t find them.”

“That’s stupid. O’ course, I’d find them,” the half-giant scoffed. “Not too bright, those Dursleys.”

Harry snickered quietly. Hagrid’s attitude reminded him of how he had acted that night towards his relatives. It was fantastic. It had been the first time that someone had put them in their place and had refused to listen to their nonsense.

Remus sighed. “The point is that they weren’t expecting you. They wouldn’t know that they should have tea prepared for you,” he said, which wasn’t the point he had been trying to make, but it was something that Hagrid would understand and agree with.

“And they didn’t have anything to prepare tea with in that cabin,” Bill pointed out.

“And I have the feeling that they wouldn’t have offered it to you even if they did,” Tonks added.

Hagrid frowned indignantly. “Why not?”

“You’ve seen how they treat Harry just because he’s a wizard. And he’s their nephew,” the metamorphmagus explained with a dark scowl.

She wasn’t going to forget about that any time soon. She had become an auror because she wanted to protect people, especially children and other people who couldn’t protect themselves. She was going to make sure that the Dursleys paid for all of it.

“Perhaps they treated him worse because he’s their nephew,” Luna said softly, but she was frowning in displeasure. “They want to be normal and Harry’s presence makes it very difficult for them.”

“Maybe,” Harry conceded.

It was true that the Dursleys wanted nothing to do with magic. Being related to it, even if it was just through him, had to be unbearable for them. Maybe it would have been better if he weren’t related to them at all.

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley … mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

“Hagrid, you didn’t have to do that,” Mrs. Weasley frowned disapprovingly. “He’s just a child and you scared him.”

“Hagrid didn’t do anything wrong. He just told him to make some space instead of occupying the whole couch,” Charlie defended the gamekeeper.

“But it’s true that Dudley was only a child. Of course, he was gonna be terrified of someone who entered their house and spoke to him like that. Especially if that someone is as big as Hagrid,” Mr. Weasley pointed out with a frown. “It doesn’t surprise me that he ran to hide behind his parents.”

“Harry didn’t run to hide behind anyone,” Ron huffed.

“Ron,” Harry groaned. Why did they have to pull him into this argument?

“What? It’s true,” the redhead defended himself.

“Even if I w-wanted to, Uncle V-Vernon would’ve kicked me out before allowing m-me get close to them,” Harry huffed, trying not to bite his own tongue as he spoke.

“Maybe you’re right,” Ron said, letting the matter drop when he noticed that Harry was still freaking freezing. If it didn’t stop soon, people were going to begin to notice. It was a miracle that they hadn’t already.

“An’ here’s Harry … shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

“See? As harmless as a teddy bear,” Charlie grinned. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“He’s still scary,” Neville mumbled.

“The first time we saw him when he was gonna take us to the boats, he scared Zacharias to badly that he tripped and he fell flat on his arse,” Justin snorted as he remembered it.

“Shut up,” Zacharias Smith, from Hufflepuff, growled at him. His face was brilliant red in embarrassment. “I didn’t trip because I was scared. I tripped on a root because it was dark.”

Daphne Greengrass snorted. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but I saw it too. There was no root,” she intervened. She had been walking behind them when it had happened and she had had a good laugh at his expense.

“I have to admit that I hid behind Susan,” Hannah said, blushing and smiling embarrassedly.

“I think I left my sister’s fingers without circulation because of how tightly I was squeezing her hand,” Padma said, sharing a smile with her twin.

“You left me bruises,” Parvati teased her gently.

“But Hagrid helped me this year when I fell into the lake!” Dennis shouted.

“That’s right! Hagrid’s great!” Colin agreed with his little brother.

“He is,” Angelina agreed, smiling at the gamekeeper.

“Las’ time I saw you, you was only … like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

“The first time out of many that they told you that,” Ron grinned in amusement.

“Prat,” Harry replied, elbowing him in the ribs.

“I’m just saying,” the redhead laughed. “Sometimes it seems like it’s the only thing people ever tell you about them.”

“Ron!” Hermione glared at him.

“It does s-seem like it sometimes, d-doesn’t it?” Harry said with a longing smile. He was happy that he had pictures of them that allowed him to know what they had looked like, but he would like to know more things about them.

What was their favourite food? What was their favourite subject? What did they like to do in their free time, besides playing quidditch and pranks in his dad’s case? Where did they go on holiday? Which places would they have liked to visit in the future? Would they have wanted more children? What had happened to his grandparents? Had his mum taken his dad to visit the muggle world? Was his dad as hopeless as the Weasleys when it came to muggle technology? Did they like animals? Did they have a pet? If his dad’s best friends had been Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew, who had been his mum’s best friends? Were they as easy to anger as Mrs. Weasley or were they more like Mr. Weasley? Did his mum like jokes? Did she like to wear jewellery and make-up? Did she like to read like Hermione, and what kind of books did she enjoy in that case? Did they know how to sing? When had they met? Had they laughed a lot together?

Those were only a few of the questions that plagued his mind, but nobody had ever answered them. All they had ever told him was that he looked like his dad, he had his mum’s eyes, they had been in Gryffindor, his dad had played quidditch as a chaser and he had liked pranks. All in all, not much compared to what other children knew about their parents.

He wished that he could have the courage to ask other people about them, but everyone always seemed to get teary-eyed and that made him uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to do when people started crying. Worse, they always stared at him with so much pity because they had known his parents while he hadn’t and he hated that. After a while, he had simply stopped asking and had contented himself with paying attention to any detail he could learn without asking.

Besides, maybe with Sirius and Remus here he could learn a few more things. Perhaps they would be willing to tell him about James and Lily Potter.

Uncle … funny rasping noise.

“What was that?” Katie frowned.

“It sounded like he blew a raspberry,” Neville suggested hesitantly.

“Maybe he was having trouble keeping his flatulencies to himself,” George smirked.

Fred mirrored his expression. “Maybe he was having trouble controlling his bowels and he shit himself when Hagrid mentioned Harry’s parents.”

“Fred and George, watch your tongue!” Their mother scolded them.

“Just saying,” Fred shrugged. “I hope he remembered to pack another pair of trousers.”

“Or that he was wearing brown ones,” George joked, earning himself several snorts of laughter.

“I demand that you leave … breaking and entering!”

“Sir? He called Hagrid ‘sir’?” Anthony snorted. “I can’t believe he’s more polite to someone ‘breaking and entering’, like he said, than to their own nephew.”

“I’d hex anyone I found in my home in the middle of the night uninvited,” Tonks crossed her arms with a frown.

“What if you thought that it was ‘one of their lot’, like he calls us and whom he’s so afraid of?” Alicia asked with a raised eyebrow. If Vernon Dursley had had any idea about what a wizard could do, it came to reason that he wouldn’t want to pick a fight with one.

“Especially then!” Tonks huffed. “I’ve had that paranoid bastard as my mentor for a long while now. Something had to rub off on me.”

“Like the hex first and ask questions later?” Bill smirked.

She smirked in return. “Exactly.”

“What if it was someone like Hagrid? He’s so big,” Colin said, glancing at Hagrid quickly. He knew that the gamekeeper was as gentle as they came, but nobody could deny that he was intimidating.

“If it was someone like Hagrid, I’d go for the strongest hexes in my repertoire first,” the metamorphmagus said, eyeing the half-giant with narrowed eyes like she was thinking the best tactic to take him down.

Hagrid squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “I… I wouldn’ enter yer home uninvite’…” He murmured nervously.

“You entered their home uninvited. After harassing them for a week with letters,” she pointed out.

Hagrid frowned and bristled slightly. He regretted nothing about what he had done to those muggles. In his opinion, it was only part of what they deserved for their treatment towards Harry. “The Dursleys… They don’ coun’. They were bad ter Harry. An’ they were keepin’ him away,” he justified himself.

The metamorphmagus pursed her lips. She turned towards Harry and tilted her head. “So, if I kidnapped Harry and locked him up in my house, you’d take the door down and barge into?”

The poor black-haired boy startled. “W-What?” He asked wide-eyed. Nobody was kidnapping him!

Hagrid actually growled. “Yeh’re not kidnappin’, Harry,” he warned, sounding more threatening than anyone had ever heard him.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Tonks only grinned. “You’ve got a pretty good friend there, Harry. I’d keep him close if I were you,” she told the flabbergasted boy.

Harry shook his head to snap out of his stupor and grinned at the half-giant, who was blushing once again. “I know,” he said quietly.

Hagrid had been the first person he had met of the wizarding world and the first person to give him a present and wish him a happy birthday. He was always going to have a special place in Harry’s heart for that.

“Ah, shut up … a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.

“H-He bent the rifle?” Justin stammered astonished. He gawked at Hagrid. “How strong are you?”

What little they could see of Hagrid’s face was as red as the Weasleys’ hair. “Not that much…”

“Not that much?” Dean repeated with an incredulous laugh. “You bent a rifle into a knot! That’s awesome! I thought that only happened in cartoons!”

“Car-what?” Parvati repeated confused.

“Cartoons. Like, movies for kids. They can be pretty funny,” Dean shrugged. He turned back towards Hagrid. “If I bring you a rifle, can you bend it into a knot in front of me?”

“I… I suppose?” Hagrid agreed in confusion.

“Mr. Thomas, you’re not bringing a muggle gun to the school. If I hear or see anything that hints that you’ve brought one, you’ll be serving detentions with me till the day you graduate, you understand me?” Professor McGonagall cut in immediately. She glared at her student until he bowed his head in defeat. Only then did she turn towards her colleague to add more quietly, “And you, Hagrid, if any student approaches you with a muggle gun, I expect you to confiscate it and contact me immediately.”

Hagrid squirmed and wring his hands in his lap. “O’ course, Professor.”

Uncle Vernon … mouse being trodden on.

“Oh, my,” Fred said wide-eyed. “Vernon Dursley sure is a source of curious noises today.”

“And Harry’s descriptions… Magnificent,” George smirked. “He sounded just like a mouse being trodden on.”

“How do you know what sound a mouse makes when it’s being trodden on?” Padma frowned in confusion.

“I d-don’t,” Harry smiled, cursing the shivering once again. How much longer had it been until Hagrid had lit up a fire? He hoped that it hadn’t been much longer.

“But it must have sounded like that for sure,” Ron intervened quickly, taking the attention off his best friend. He rubbed his back discreetly, hating that the shivers weren’t abating at all yet.

“How would you know that? What did you do to Scabbers before it died?” Percy asked with a raised eyebrow and a disapproving frown.

Ron scowled at his big brother. “I didn’t do anything to Scabbers!” He exclaimed indignantly. He had defended that rat when it had really been the man that had sold Harry’s parents to You-Know-Who. Sometimes he wished that Crookshanks had really eaten that traitor.

“Besides, Scabbers was a rat, not a mouse. It’s not the same,” Hermione cut in smoothly before they could begin arguing. She knew that Scabbers was a delicate topic for Ron.

“It’s not that big of a difference,” Percy grumbled under his breath.

“Anyway — Harry,” said … mighta sat on it at some point, but it’ll taste all right.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Ron moaned under his breath.

“It was g-good,” Harry smiled. It was the first and only birthday cake he had ever received in his life. At least, that he remembered.

“Harry, Hagrid can’t hear you right now,” Hermione murmured, staring at Hagrid apprehensively. They all knew that Hagrid’s food wasn’t exactly a delicatessen, even though they always thanked him for it and pretended that it was good in front of him.

“Not j-joking,” Harry insisted amused.

Hermione turned to look at him sceptically. “He said that he sat on it, Harry,” she said.

Harry shrugged as best as he could when he felt like a block of ice. “Still g-good.”

From an inside pocket … opened it with trembling fingers.

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE, POTTER!” Moody roared, startling everyone.

“Alastor!” McGonagall snapped at him, righting the hat on her head. She was ignored.

“You have enemies out there!” The ex-auror continued to scold the teenager. “You’re making it too easy for them by accepting things! You can’t accept things from anyone you don’t trust implicitly without checking them thoroughly! Even if you trust them, you should check regardless! You can never be too sure that someone’s whoever they say they are or that they’re acting of their own accord!”

“Alastor, that’s enough!” McGonagall snapped again more firmly. Finally, the man turned to look at her. “Potter was eleven years old, for Merlin’s sake! He was just a child!”

“Then it would’ve been an even bigger tragedy if he was killed because he was careless!” He replied stubbornly. He rounded on the wide-eyed, black-haired teenager. “Are you gonna learn your lesson?” He snapped.

Harry gulped and nodded minutely. “Yes?”

“Do you know how to check for foul play to make sure there aren’t any traps?”

“Uh…”

“Poisons?!”

“Hum… I…”

“Curses?!”

“Mm… not e-exact…”

“Then what the hell have you learnt?! You’re a sitting duck for your enemies!” The ex-auror shouted at him.

“He was talking to Hagrid! He would never hurt Mr. Potter!” Sprout argued, wanting to defuse the tension. “Nor would he ever allow any harm to come to the child if he could help it!”

“Potter didn’t know that, did he?! He didn’t even know the name of the person breaking into his house and he was already accepting things from them! He needs to learn! He’ll regret it much more if he doesn’t and something happens!”

“He’s fourteen, Alastor!” Flitwick intervened with a stern voice, trying to rein in the man’s temper. “He has more than enough time to learn those things in the future!”

“He has to learn them to have more time!” Mad-Eye barked at them. “He should’ve learnt long ago! Albus told me what that letter Potter received yesterday said! The war is coming quickly for all of us and Potter will be one of the main targets!”

Harry flinched. That was true. And the more he thought about it, the sillier and naiver did Mad-Eye’s words made him feel. He knew that he had enemies, the whole wizarding world knew that he had enemies, and yet he was doing nothing to help learn to protect himself. Like the ex-auror had said, he was sitting duck and, unless something changed, he wouldn’t be ready when Voldemort returned like the letter had warned them about.

“Potter!” Moody roared, abruptly bringing him back to the present. “You will learn how to detect those things one way or another!”

Harry gulped, but he nodded determinedly, straightening his spine as much as he could when all he wanted to do was curl into himself to conserve body heat. “Yes, sir.”

The ex-auror narrowed his eyes at him. Even his magical blue eye was fixed on him, but Harry didn’t squirm, refusing to show how uncomfortable it made him.

“I’m warning you,” the ex-auror said, finally lowering his voice. “You better learn if you want to avoid a few nasty surprises in your way these days.”

People reared back in shock. Had they heard correctly? Because that sounded awfully like Moody was warning Potter that he was going to hex him.

“Are you threatening my godson?!” Sirius snapped, standing up.

However, Harry only kept the eye contact with Moody. “Yes, sir,” he replied simply, filling himself growing more determined. He was going to learn.

He wasn’t afraid of what Moody might do. He had the feeling that the man wouldn’t actually try to cause real harm. At worst, he’d probably have to spend the night in the infirmary, but he really felt that the man wanted him to learn for his own good. Moody wasn’t doing this just to have some fun at his expense.

“Are you out of your mind, Alastor?! You can’t curse a student!” McGonagall screamed horrified.

Moody snorted. “Better me than the sucker out for his blood or one of his followers,” he argued.

“I swear to Merlin, Moody, if you hurt my godson, I’m gonna kill you,” Sirius growled, clenching his fists furiously.

“If he learns and he’s careful like he should be, he won’t be hurt,” the ex-auror dismissed.

“That’s not the point!” The animagus shouted.

“Sirius,” Harry called him. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Sirius said incredulously.

“But you’re not gonna be able to make him change his mind, so let it go,” Harry insisted.

“Are you serious?!” The man snapped at him.

Harry couldn’t help it. He didn’t even think it about it. It just came out without his biding. “No, you are,” he replied cheekily.

Sirius blinked, the anger draining out of him in an instant as his lips twitched upwards unexpectedly. “Did you just…?”

“Make the worst joke in history?” George groaned.

“He did,” Fred lamented.

The animagus’ lips curled into a grin as he sat back down. “You have no idea,” he said, remembering all the times the Marauders had made that very same joke. It never failed to amuse him.

Remus watched his friend in amusement. Harry had shocked his godfather so much that Sirius didn’t even seem to notice that the teenager had effectively ended the previous subject and had calmed him down at the same time with a single sentence. That was a truly impressive feat.

Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake … in green icing.