AU. Snape is still teaching Potions even though it is sixth year and Lupin somehow got DADA back. War goes how I want it to when I'm writing it.
No pairings set for future chapters, though there might be a little romance. Draco and Penny might fuck, but that doesn't mean they're together forever. (Just kidding about that last part. I hate Draco.) Nothing is set in stone, though, and I might make established pairings. Or not.
Primarily focused around Sheldon, Leonard, and Penny, though Howard, Raj, Bernadette, and Amy might be making appearances. No promises though.
Also, though I display Harry to be a tad bit arrogant, he remains fairly normal for the most part. The bigheadedness is for humor purposes. Everything is for humor purposes. Your mom is for humor purposes.
Harry Potter wasn't your average boy.
He was extraordinary in every way, and sometimes he even surprised himself with his spectacularity. Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, boy destined to die, boy who sometimes did rash and stupid things but it always turned out for the best.
Harry loved himself, if he was truthful. Not only was he very, very attractive, but he was also very, very smart. He could even be the smartest boy in school.
Well, he could have been.
Harry was the first to admit that Sirius' death was horrible and that it nearly destroyed him inside, but there was a plus to every negative. The battle at the Ministry was the first real action he got since he felt up Cho in the Room of Requirement (first base and a half, really, but Harry always called it a two or a three), and his hormones had spiked tremendously since that night. He couldn't spend more than three minutes alone with Ginny without imagining a scheme to get her topless.
He really did love himself.
Harry Potter was a very interesting boy, too, but not nearly as interesting as some people.
But this isn't the beginning.
And if it exists, why not start there?
Harry sat slouched over an empty plate, looking sourly at Dumbledore who would just not stop talking. How the man could manage to drag out Fawkes' favorite bird treat into a thirty minute debate, he would never know. He and Ron had spent the last hour whispering dirty insults about the elderly man, ignoring the burning glares of Hermione, leaking with disapproval.
"Now, students, before I tell you the names of all of the socks I own, I would like to make a small announcement." Dumbledore paused, letting everyone to settle down, or in Harry's case, wake up. "There will be three new sixth years this year."
The room immediately jerked awake, filling with excitement. Murmurs could be heard across the tables, people turning their heads to talk with their friends or to look up at Dumbledore. Satisfied with the response, Dumbledore continued.
"There are three children that have a mysterious past I will not tell you about. For some reason they know all the required magic to be in sixth year, and for convenience of future plots they will be in Gryffindor, even though in reality two are Ravenclaws and one's a Hufflepuff. I have the glorious pleasure of introducing Sheldon Cooper, Leonard Hofstadter, and Penny, whose surname is a mystery in itself!"
A few people clapped; most were staring in amazement as the three people in question scuffled up to stand next to Dumbledore. The first one was tall and lanky, looking like a praying mantis wrapped in flesh colored plastic wrap. The second was a short, tan geeky looking guy who wore simple black glasses, and the third was a cute, blonde girl who seemed severely pissed.
Joy.
Ron was busy ogling the lone female of the group, and Harry's train of thought disappeared when a large bowl of lamb stew appeared in front of him. How he loved lamb stew.
Everyone around them began to eat, still glancing at the newcomers ever so often. "What do ya think they're like?" Ron asked through a mouthful of pork, spitting some on the dish in front of him.
"I don't know," Hermione replied, picking at her food and looking up at the trio, seemingly confused. "It's ridiculous, really. If they're wizards, why didn't they attend Hogwarts before? Why do they know so much magic? Why are they all in Gryffindor?"
"Hermione." Ron swallowed, punching his throat a couple of times to ensure all the food went down. "If you get caught up in these plotholes, the readers will, too, and that will mean the writer will have to spend pages upon pages of explaining everything. You're ruining it all!"
"What readers? What writer?"
Ron raised his palm, shaking his head slightly. "Stop right there. I said nothing. You said nothing. And," He added, looking to his left and down towards the head table. "We could just ask them, seeing as they're nearly ten feet away and still closing in."
Sheldon sniffed at the ridiculous amount of food placed around the tables, spilling over the rims of the bowls and onto what was probably a germ infected table top. He was the only one who seemed to care, as everyone was laughing and picking it up with their bare hands and stuffing it into their open mouths, already wide from talking with their mouth full.
"Leonard," He said out of the corner of his mouth, eyes darting around. "As appealing as this place seems to be, might I recommend us finding another establishment to become acquainted with? They're…they're eating with their bare hands, Leonard. Their bare hands."
"I can see, Sheldon," Leonard responded, his voice nasally from irritation. "But we've got to stay here and learn magic. How are three sixteen year olds supposed to get well-paying jobs out in the real world?"
"Well I don't know about Penny, but you and I could use our vast knowledge of science and science fiction to educate the uneducated or study a particular field of study."
"Why do you keep using the same words and phrases?" Penny asked, slightly taken aback.
Sheldon harrumphed. "Because the author seems to be very limited on their knowledge of intelligent things to make me say."
"What author?"
"Shush, Penny, you're ruining it all."
"Our main concern," Leonard changed the subject, increasing his speed to encourage them to become distracted and not notice. "Is finding a place to sit. It's so crammed at these tables. Aren't we supposed to sit at the Gryffindor one?"
"Technically yes," Sheldon answered, raising his eyebrows. "But I think I would look rather dashing in a blue tie, do you agree? Blue and bronze, what bold colors…"
"Blue and bronze, what bold colors," Penny mimicked, hunching her shoulders to copy his posture and scrunching up her face. "No one gives a shit, Sheldon. Leonard's right, we need to focus on finding a seat."
"Pardon me," Sheldon glared at her, obviously ruffled by her teasing. "But how exactly did you manage to get accepted to this school? Oh that's right, let's see…" He started to tick off his fingers, looking up at the cloudy gray ceiling. "Low cut top with exposed cleavage, dropped pen on staircase, and short shorts with 'Juicy' sprawled on the back. A true grasp on education modern times has."
"Oh yes, and you got in by wooing them with your expert charm. It's a surprise they didn't kick us out, with you insulting them about every little thing and trying to show superiority in anything you could." Penny shot back, folding her arms across her chest.
"Stop bickering," Leonard said weakly, not much fight in his voice. "I think I see an empty spot, across from some kids about our age. We should try and become friends with them if we want to fit in."
Penny grimaced, looking at the three people with not much enthusiasm. "Are you sure? I mean they seem kind of odd; I think one of them is trying to stuff a whole potato in their mouth."
"Penny, look at us," Leonard persisted, approaching the bench and hooking his leg over it to sit, ignoring the three people across from them. "I'm a nerd, Sheldon's a creep, and you're…hot. What other choice do we have?"
Sheldon, after some hesitation, agreed to sit on the bench, keeping his hands below the table to ensure he didn't become infected from the food. Penny sat next to Sheldon, across from a brown-haired girl, and the six people stared at the floor awkwardly.
The red one tried to break the ice. "What're you doing down there?" He asked Sheldon, a bit of sauce dribbling out of the corner of his mouth and down his chin. "Nothing dirty, I hope." He winked.
Sheldon looked down at where his hands were resting on his thighs then back up to the boy, confused. "What would I be doing? If anything I would be sanitizing my hands, but Leonard forgot my Purell bottle at the hotel." He adjusted his posture to glare at Leonard from where he was sitting next to Penny.
"Well I'm Ron," The redhead said, gulping down some food so he could talk coherently. "And this is Harry and Hermione."
"Nice to meet you," Leonard said, putting on a friendly face and leaning across the table to shake their hands. When he shook Harry's hand he added, "I heard about your issue with You-Know-Who. Quite noble. How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Survive," Leonard elaborated simply, leaning back over to where he originally sat. "I've been thinking about forming a league of extraordinary people to take down You-Know-Who. I figure with four or five people and a month of preparation we could get in and get out without a Death Eater ever knowing we were there."
Sheldon smirked slightly, clasping his hands between his knees and leaning forward. "You see, Leonard here doesn't understand the complicity of Horcruxes or how to begin locating them. I've seen the plan he outlined; it was very crude and practically spewing inexperience. I mean, how could someone successfully break into Gringotts when there are hundreds of guards, all of which are trained to kill? Quite ludicrous."
Leonard blinked. "Gringotts? What about Gringotts? Why would I need to go to Gringotts?"
Sheldon blinked in return. "No reason. You might figure it out sometime in the late future."
"Wait a minute," Harry said, putting down his fork. "Go back to the part with Horcruxes. That's where I lost you. What are they?"
"As if I would tell." Sheldon smiled, shaking his head. "It would ruin seven great novels. Don't worry, Harry Potter, though you do not know of them now, I assure you that you will. Some day."
"As wonderful as this conversation is…" Penny started, thinking a bit on how to finish it. "I'm tired. Like really tired. We should go to bed."
"Hmph." Sheldon rolled his eyes. "You can go off to bed, since you're like really tired, but Leonard and I will stay here and continue to converse with these fellows."
"A-Actually, I'm tired too." Leonard wiped his mouth with his napkin, coughing. "Seeya Sheldon. Come on, Penny."
The two got up and walked off, their shoulders nudging awkwardly ever so often.
"Where do you come from?" Hermione asked, trying to get everyone back into conversation.
"A mystery in itself," Sheldon announced, standing up and adjusting the bottom of his shirt so it didn't ride up on his lower abdomen. "Seeing as my friends are now gone, I feel as if I should depart also. It has been…an event in meeting you three, one I will never forget because I have an eidetic memory."
He strode off, taking short steps in contrast to his long legs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared after him, not blinking. "I don't know about you…" Harry trailed off, suddenly not feeling hungry. "But I think that they maybe think we're their friends now."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "You're lucky Hermione, you get to room with the hot one. I gotta room with Sir Dork-A-Lot and that creepy dude that looks like an insect."
"Are you kidding me?" Hermione retorted, taking out a folded schedule from her robes pocket and gazing at it fondly, blue ink covering the sheet from where McGonagall had marked extra classes. "The blonde's head is probably full of air. It's going to be torturous to talk to her."
"There's good in this though." Harry shrugged as they both turned to look at him like he was crazy. "Tomorrow we get to see what Snape thinks of them."
Sheldon's eyes shot open when he heard the low tapping noise next to the window. It was nearly two in the morning and he had been sleeping horribly; the room had a draft and his roommates, two of which were the boys he met earlier, snored.
Leonard didn't seem to notice or care, instead opting to give Sheldon the bed closest to the window to ensure he was the farthest from the fire.
Sheldon got up, wincing when the bottoms of his feet touched the bare floor, a chill creeping up his toes and into his ankles. The mattress squeaked when he got up, and he silently tiptoed over to the window, excitement beginning to flow through him. It could be anything, anyone. Had Spock finally arrived?
He peered out the window, seeing only the shadows of Hogwarts' grounds, flooded blue from the moonlight creeping through the branches in the trees. He scowled and opened the window, adjusting the branch that was ticking on the glass and ruining his precious sleep.
He returned to bed, sighing and letting himself appear sad, just for a moment. Spock would not be coming today.