SCHOOL:The Magical School For Magical Delinquents

by Ershiyi

You've read stories where Harry goes to this new school, and where Harry discovers he's not just human. Now, what if Harry, before his third year, got sent to SCHOOL: a magical school for magical delinquents because blowing up your aunt, whether like a balloon or like blowing up with explosives makes no difference . Full Summary inside...

Because I started reading stories where Harry leaves Hogwarts for this other school, because I've read stories where he has this creature inheritance, because it was just too tempting. This little plot bunny screamed, begged and generally was annoying so I had to write it. Surprisingly enough, it was pretty easy writing this. This is only a side project, maybe after I'm done writing my Naruto fanfic then I'll work on this as my main project. Unbeta-ed, because I don't think I can find someone who would want to work on something I consider only a side project. Expect updates to be...a little here and there. This is just me testing the waters, I may or may not write a chapter 1 if I get the right response. So review please so I can see if I should keep on writing or not!

Full Summary: After Harry Potter turned his aunt into a humongous human balloon he gets sent a letter from SCHOOL: a magical school for magical delinquents. Apparently, blowing up your aunt (even though he only blew her up like you blow up a balloon) qualifies you to be sent to SCHOOL. His relatives, after all Harry does seem too happy at Hogwarts and certainly Harry is a delinquent in their eyes, immediately sends him to SCHOOL. Why did the Dursleys send him? After all, killing and poisoning, murder and torture is allowed in there and it's not even punishable, basically the perfect opportunity to rid of the brat. Add in a few (okay maybe more than a few, a school full of) delinquents and you get the absolute chaos that is SCHOOL. Will Harry survive?

Warnings: Smart!Harry (since we like smart heroes), slightly more cynical than in canon Harry, Creature!Harry, and Slightly Attractive/Cute! Harry (I've noticed that good stories tend to have a main character that is at least slightly easy on the eyes, and I want this to be a good story so...yeah),
WARNING: Story has vampires, werewolves, demons and e.t.c. in story, homosexual relationships i.e. girlxgirl and guyxguy in story (doesn't mean Harry has to be in one, just means that there are couples in this that are), het relationships guyxgirl, violence, poisoning, thievery, maybe some gore, e.t.c. Please, just connect the dots, please, you have a brain! Isn't it amazing! Please use it, as you probably do already. I wouldn't want you to stop using it and be brain dead, because then you won't review or pm and tell me to keep or not keep on writing. And on with the story and the end of the annoyingly long Author's Note (I'm sorry, I apologize. I'll give you brownie points if you forgive me).

PS: A Grimoire is a book full of dark magic. Google it if you don't get it, 'kay?

Blowing up your aunt, even though she isn't your real aunt, would make most people stop and stare. However the Dursley's weren't most people. They could be classified as the most boring, most dreadfully medieval people in the U.K.

I wasn't too sorry about it. Aunt Marge was beastly, I absolutely hated her and she hated me, the feeling was mutual you might say. The Dursleys were angry, my so called "Uncle" was roaring at me to turn her back. As if.

This wasn't too unexpected. Things like this tend to happen with my luck. I had already had most of my things packed and ready to go, it barely took me five minutes to get down the stairs and almost out of the door.

Then the letter arrived.

A letter was lying innocently on the kitchen table. And of course, Aunt Petunia being her usual busy body self, had to open and read what was inside.

Joy.

The letter had made her smile, and it wasn't one of those sunshine-and-rainbows smiles. No, it was one of those evil smiles that were made for evil -geniuses -that -were -going- to -take -over the -world smiles. Scary really. Then Uncle Vernon began smiling that same smile, and then Aunt Petunia began laughing her unappealing, annoying laugh.

Great, I was screwed.

"The freak accepts." She said to the letter. Wait, she said that to the letter? I thought to myself, well, I guess she finally lost it. Well, not quite.

Aunt Petunia hadn't finally lost it (how can you lose something you never had?), instead she sent me to a school for delinquents. Okay, magical delinquents. Still, they were bloody DELINQUENTS! How was I, a delinquent?

My grades at Hogwarts were good! I was a respected member of the Quidditch team, and I wasn't even in the top 5 for most detentions of the year (Fred and George won that). I was obviously not a delinquent. And besides, a school name SCHOOL, sooo original.

Well apparently the school didn't think that, or my oh-so-lovely guardians.

I left, but not before I managed to nick (well, Fred and George taught me how to steal and pickpocket) the letter. If I was going to the bloody, damn school I could at least know what I was getting myself into.

After reading the letter, I knew I was doomed. Apparently the letter claimed once your guardian said you accepted, your were bound into going to the school. If you were already going to another, they didn't care. You had to go to SCHOOL once they accepted, there were no loopholes around it. Once you went, you had to stay for five years before they had an evaluation that showed if you had improved at all with your attitude and magical studies since you first came. If they deemed you "a nice, normal person of magical society", you got to leave. If not, there's always next year. The thing is, as murder was allowed, you had to survive the five years first.

Damn it, if Life wasn't already laughing at me, I'm pretty sure she is now.

So, I went to the Leaky Cauldron, rented a room and laid low for a while. Then I went to Gringotts to get some gold, and it was at Gringotts I got my first surprise. Apparently getting accepted to SCHOOL had one advantage: it was that when you get accepted to SCHOOL, in many ways you no longer were a minor, if you got punished for a crime you would still be punished as a minor but you were now officially legal for many other things. The goblins proved it to me by letting me see the official Potter family vaults, not just my trust vault (okay, I may have still thought that they were joking even after they tried proving it to me, I have trust issues okay? Blame my terrible childhood).

Let me say that I did a very good goldfish imitation when I saw the first of the Potter vaults. Yes, you heard right, the first of the Potter vaults. There were seven Potter vaults in total, my ancestors had apparently been hoarding for centuries (I can only hope that there weren't too many kleptomaniacs). I was quite wealthy really as the new Lord Potter ( I was now technically no longer a minor so I could claim the title), and I had a humongous library with rare, ancient books.

There was a slight drawback to this. As I inherited the Lord Potter position, I had to also inherit a few other things. Those other things were families that had eventually become the Potter family, with their unique bloodline abilities that followed every old pureblood line. The Potter family's bloodline ability came from some marriages/mating between humans and the Faerie, giving them a sensitivity to magic and letting the descendants have much more magic than normal.

Naturally the dormant blood could be awakened by accident (like me putting on the Potter family ring). And with my luck it did.

Don't you just looove life?

The goblins informed me that something happened for the Faerie blood to awaken and that I would slowly turn into a Faerie. Great. Now I had to remember to get used to all the baggage that accompanied being slowly transformed into an immortal being.

Then Life had to add in a little extra. What? Making me go to this SCHOOL wasn't enough, and then having me slowly turn into another species wasn't enough. Apparently, no.

Somehow the I managed to stumble upon the charming Potter family Grimoire. A Grimoire is a book full of dark magic, and this one was no different. If I had to be specific, it wasn't really the Potter family grimoire, it was actually the Peverell family grimoire but the Peverell's descendants were the Potters. Inside the grimoire were: a guide to necromancy that I immediately skipped over, a guide to cursing others (no, not fuck you or shit cursing but you-shall-sleep-for-a-hundred-years-and-dream-of-your-worst-fear cursing) that I probably wasn't going to use unless I really hated someone and ...healing magic? Well, at least I could read the part about healing magic.

A side effect of being the first person to open the Grimoire in a long time: it had gotten attached me, not literally but like it liked me. And somehow managed to magically bond me with it, forcing me to carry the annoying thing with me everywhere. Well at least one of my ancestors had the good idea of enhancing the Grimoire to be weightless and the Grimoire itself had evolved enough to grow wings (evolution? On a book? Well, there were odder things). If the grimoire didn't happen to have the useful guides inside I probably been very tempted to destroy it because having a flying book flitting over your shoulder wasn't exactly the height of subtlety.

Well after the whole inheritance business at Gringotts, I spent my time just browsing through Diagon Alley, looking at stuff and eating ice cream sundaes at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. I really do have to say, their banana splits are excellent. After an afternoon spent seeing Diagon Alley, I went back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Not being noticed in the Leaky Cauldron is pretty easy, there are so many people that attract attention with looks alone and it's simple to just take a seat in a table in the corner and quietly eat your food. I tried to eat as quickly as I could, the people sitting in the table next to me seemed to be vampires and they didn't bother with disguising what they were eating or the smell of it. Add in the smelly cigars one of them that were smoking which made my eyes water, and I was probably one of the few unfortunate people stuck sitting near them.

Running into my room at a speed even I didn't know I had, I slammed the door and fell on my bed. But something caught my I before I could fall asleep and ignoring my fatigue, I walked up to the mirror. I looked at myself curiously, seeing the changes the inheritance ceremony and the Faerie part of me awakening had done.

I had grown a little, and I seemed to have some kind of grace with me that I didn't have before. My hair had grown a little and wasn't so messy anymore, instead it had somehow gotten a blue tint to it and grown to almost cover my right eye. I had gotten paler and looking at my fingers I could see that they were longer than I remembered. My eyes didn't change too much, they just glowed a little sort of like glow sticks.

The mirror said some tacky phrase about how I look, but I didn't really bother listening. My appearance hadn't changed too much, I could still see the strong resemblance to how I looked before the troublesome inheritance ceremonies. I sighed, and rubbed my eyes. The problem of hiding my strong resemblance to the Boy-Who-Lived was for tomorrow, I was too tired to be bothered right now.

I guess the question of, "Why haven't I gotten any mail from the Ron or Hermione or Dumbledore telling me to come back?"And there's also, "Hey, why haven't you told someone about being accepted into SCHOOL?" Well, SCHOOL has this privacy policy, and its pretty overkill too. Apparently students aren't allowed to contact or tell anyone of SCHOOL unless the principal of SCHOOL authorizes it. If we do...there was a vague answer that sounded suspiciously like they would kill you. I like being alive, thank you, and I have no intention of stopping being alive right now. And to be truthful, I did try sending a letter about it to Ron and Hermione, what I got was a smoking, slightly singed Hedwig and a piece of paper saying: This is your first and last warning, there is no next time.

So any sane, non-suicidal person would be behaving like me right now if they were me.

I ended up spending some of my fortune on muggle clothing because 1) its easier to move around in 2) when I take the Underground (because, muggle transportation is easier for guys than using a broomstick), no one stares at me weirdly. Wearing clothes that fit for once is nice, because you no longer have to tug on the waistband of your pants or try to lift up the hem of your pants off the ground. Besides, when I enter Diagon Alley, I can just throw a robe on top of my t-shirt and jeans.

After looking at armour (and discovering just how heavy it is), I looked for something else that could protect me. When I stumbled across a shop that sold enchanted trunks (and bought a new one), somehow I managed to get into a conversation with the owner (a very chatty witch called Barbara Stone) and somehow I discovered that she could charm my robes to protect me like armour. That was pretty lucky, after all, the death count for students seemed to be one in ten didn't survive.

I wasn't going to be part of that ten percent, I wanted, no, needed to survive. And when I finally had finished the five years of hell, I was going to go back to my nice, normal life.

And how about we skip to the end of my summer holiday, okay?

I admit, my holiday was nice. It was full of days spent browsing and looking at unusual magical things. I ate ice cream sundaes at least once a week, and wasted time by staring at the Firebolt in Quality Quidditch Supplies. About two days before the end of my stay in Diagon Alley, (and two days before I was going to be "transported" to SCHOOL), I collected the robes that Barbara had enchanted for me.

I got a surprise when, instead of my plain black Hogwarts robe, I got a black trench coat that went a bit past my knees instead. Barbara explained to me that one of the runes she had sown onto my robe had went wrong, and it made all the other runes explode, basically my old Hogwarts robe spontaneously combusted. So instead, she bought a trench coat for me that was approximately my size, and enchanted it with more than just armour and spells that prevented it from wear and fire etc. Barbara made it resistant to almost everything (including evil bunnies, which are a witch's or wizard's worst nightmare), and it also changed sizes as I grew and could even let me fly for a short while (actually she used the word: 'levitate', but I like 'fly' better, it sounds cooler) and could do a bunch of awesome stuff.

As Ron or one of the guys in my year would say: "Wicked!"

And it was, really.

On September 1, I was nervous.

This was the first time in two years I wasn't on my way to Kings Cross Station, like I used to. Instead I was going to just wait the day away, and tomorrow I was going to be 'transported' to SCHOOL. In a fit of reckless idiocy (WARNING: unadvised, do not try at home), I went on the Underground and found myself at Kings Cross Station. When I tried walking into Platform 9 and 3/4 I couldn't.

Like last year, I just banged into a solid brick wall.

Banging into a brick wall hurts, let me tell you that, and I had run into it, not just simply bang my head on it and wait for my IQ to decrease. I regret the several tries after that made everyone stare at me, and soon I gave up with a sore and bruised forehead. I hope I didn't lose too many IQ points.

When I got back to my room at the Leaky Cauldron, I went to my bathroom and examined my forehead. Then did a double-take when the bruise (I was so sure there was a bruise) was gone. Just gone, disappeared, sort of like a pudding on Ron's plate when he's hungry. I was hungry too, so I got a sandwich and did some research on why my bruise was gone.

After reading the fifth book and getting nowhere, I just went back into Gringotts and asked to see Griphook. Griphook appeared around fifteen minutes later, with no decipherable expression in his eyes (meaning there was expression, I'm just not good enough at reading people's eyes). He(was Griphook a he? I'll just assume Griphook"s male) what seemed to be a breath after I asked my questions at top speed. And then he answered.

" , the answer to your questions is simple: the accidental awakening of your Faerie side and your gradual change into one is responsible for your accelerated healing. There probably will be more side-effects as the process goes on. And I have work to go back to now, good day."

That was the first time I had ever been ditched and left speechless by a goblin. And it wasn't going to be the last.

I wasted the rest of my day, doing what I had done yesterday (and the day before, and the day before that, and the day...well lets just say I did that a lot).

When the morning of September 2 finally came, I was expecting something unusual to happen. My paranoia had only increased when nothing had happened after I woke up, or when I changed my clothes, or when I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, or when I packed my things to be ready to go. Nothing unusual had happened then, and when I went down for breakfast and waited for my usual breakfast of bacon, eggs and fried tomatoes nothing did. The bacon was crispy but not too crispy, and the eggs were just as good as always. But I couldn't focus on that, and as I leaned over the counter to pay for my breakfast, my surroundings blurred.

Guess my morning was going to be as unusual as I thought.

I landed on my but, and dusted the dirt off my trench coat. As I gathered my trunk and picked up Hedwig's cage, I looked at where I was.

A huge gate loomed over me, with the words SCHOOL in iron on top of it. Barbed wire covered the tops of the fences beside the gate, and I could see a castle that looked very different from Hogwarts in the background.

Well, I guess, that's the story of how I arrived at SCHOOL.

Now, who took my pocky?

Ah, there are so many inconsistencies like why Dumbledore didn't try something, or the Weasleys or Hermione and Ron. They got warned away, SCHOOL made sure of that. And the reason why Harry stayed invisible was the Trace was gone, making him invisible to the Ministry and the Ministry has this thing with school: as long as its not too important, don't ask.

Please tell me if I should continue. And I apologize to my beta, Akiko J. Suzuki. I'm sorry, please forgive me for writing something behind your back, but I didn't want to bother you with this.