Look for the Good Instead
Prologue
"Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth."
Jean-Paul Sartre
.Charlus Potter.
My name is Charlus Markus Potter, and this is my story. It starts when I was eleven, and on my way to start Hogwarts. The day was clear and blue, just like every incoming Hogwarts student hopes their big day will be. Of course, it had to be sunny. After all, this was the day my brother was starting at Hogwarts too.
Harry Potter, my brother, the boy who lived. Everyone would think I would hate him, that I would revile him, envy him. They would assume that I'm jealous that he's famous for something he doesn't remember, but they're wrong. Harry and I are twins, and as close as possible, really. Mum and Dad, or Lily and James Potter to you, have always paid more attention to him, I'll admit, but they never ignored me. They didn't just give me Harry's hand-me-down robes after all! No, we were treated wonderfully by our parents.
I'll admit that Harry could be a bit big headed though. But it was understandable! He'd grown up as The-Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding World! He's bound to be just a touch arrogant. Mum told me that Dad was worse when he went to Hogwarts though, so I'll not hold it against him. After all, he's my brother.
"Harry, Chaz, behave yourselves, alright?" Lily leaned down and gave us kisses on the cheek. Harry first, then me. As soon as Mum left Harry for me, Dad swooped down to give my brother a hug, tousling his already messy hair as he let go. I was next, though without the tousle.
I smiled at them both, returning the affections. Mum's dazzling green eyes beamed down at us both, and a warm feeling in my stomach spread to my fingers and toes. She always said we were so much like each other, both quiet, auburn-haired, and studious. My hair was a neat, dark red; it was, nearly the black that constituted the hair of both my father and brother, but it was still red. I also had Mum's eyes, but with a ring of brown and yellow around the pupil. Harry always said that I have "weird" eyes, but I rather liked them.
"If you do decide not to behave though..." a smirk lit James' face. "Don't get caught, or I'll have to send Padfoot up there to make sure you don't get in anymore trouble." Harry and I giggled. We did, admittedly, play pranks. Harry would take care of the ideas, I made them work. Harry didn't like to read, and he didn't need to. He was, after all, going to be an Auror, whether his grades permitted or not. It didn't matter.
"I love you, Mum, Dad," Harry and I said in unison. We had practiced that morning, just for fun.
"I'll send Aris' over with my letter as soon as we get to the Gryffindor dorms, okay?" I piped happily. Aris', or Aristotle, was my owl, a rather barmy looking barn, but he was nice. He had a nasty habit of dropping dead rodents on my breakfast, but he was nice.
"And I'll send Hedwig tomorrow after our first classes," Harry released a small smirk. "I hope we have Aunt Minerva and Uncle Filius first. Or at least D.A.D.A! That'll be so cool! I'm sure I'll be the best in class."
"I'm sure you will be. You've been practicing ever since you got your wand," James tousled Harry's hair again. "Best get going though, you don't want to end up sitting with any slimy Slytherins on the train."
Dad helped Harry with his trunk, and I trailed behind them. The train was getting a bit packed, but Harry managed to find the compartment of some of his friends. Ron Weasley, a red-haired prankster with blue eyes and more than his share of freckles, was sitting with the fair toned Ernie McMillan and dark Terry Boot. Harry took the last seat in their compartment, and I continued dragging my trunk down the hall. Dad left, I suppose he forgot I wasn't sitting with Harry, but I eventually found an empty compartment. A quick levitation charm later, and I was relaxing in the empty cabin with a muggle fantasy novel.
"Excuse me, I can't seem to find my toad," A dark haired boy popped his head in. This was my best friend, Neville Longbottom. He's also one of the bravest people I've ever met. I suppose having your parents die to save the life of a now famous family will give you a bit of pride. It was because of his parents that mine weren't dead. "Oh! Hi Charlie. Have you seen Trevor around?"
"Sorry Neville, I haven't," I set down my book with a shrug. "I can ask the cabin next door to summon him for you though. It's full of Ravenclaws from higher years. Sit down and have a frog, you're a bit panicky mate." It was true, he was looking a bit twitchy.
In the next compartment over, I did manage to get Neville's toad... after a good long lecture on responsibility, knowing things ahead, and why Ravenclaw was the best of all houses. Recruiters.
"Here you go mate," I sighed, handing the troublesome toad to Neville. "Maybe you should just get a tracking spell on him or something; then you couldn't ever really lose him." Trevor ribitted his agreement, then squirmed from Neville's grasp, resting in the corner furthest from his master. "There, see? Even Trevor agrees with me."
Neville just chuckled. "I'm going to go back to my compartment for a bit, make sure no one did anything to my things. I'll be back in a few."
The rest of my train ride was rather normal, I suppose. While Neville was gone, a bushy haired girl with buck teeth by the name Hermione Granger came in, claiming to be helping to look for Trevor, and was ecstatic to have found him. My best mate did return with his trunk, but right on his tail was a blonde haired boy with two rocks for goons. After finding out that I was Harry Potter's brother, he offered to let me hang out with him, however when I asked if my friends could as well (as Hermione hadn't left yet), Malfoy left, muttering about muggle lovers. By the end of the train ride, I was friends with Hermione, who was asking question after question about the magical world.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere!" Came the loud bellow of Hogwarts' own half giant. He said hello to anyone he knew well, and waved jauntily at the crowd in general. "Alrigh', four to a boat, no more than tha' though! And watch out that you don' fall in the lake. It's a bit chilly this time o' day." Neville, Hermione and I piled into the boat together, as did another girl, but she didn't talk any to us. We didn't care, Neville and I were explaining about floo travel and apparition to Hermione, so we were all distracted.
The boats rounded the bend, and Hogwarts came into view. All talking stopped, and everyone just stared up in awe at the magnificent castle on the cliff, practically glittering with magic. Hushed whispers soon ensued, growing to a murmur, than a lot of overly excited kids ready to explode. It was a rather lot of fun really.
Upon landing, we were led under the cliff to a hidden doorway, which opened at our arrival to reveal a strict looking witch with her hair in a bun. Aunt Minerva, although at school she's Professor McGonagall. When Dad was working on his Transfiguration Mastery, he became very good friends with Aunt Minerva. The same happened with Mum when she was getting her Charms Mastery, she became good friends with Uncle Filius, known to most as Professor Flitwick.
We were lead up the way to a room just off the Great Hall. Dad said that we should be careful, because upper years sometimes set up a prank, but we didn't have to worry. They wouldn't dare prank my brother before he's sorted, so we only had to deal with a ghost congregation floating through. It was funny, but rather boring.
The great hall was magnificent. Hermione started talking about the ceiling and how it was enchanted by Rowena Ravenclaw because of certain Arithmatic equations or something. It was very interesting, but she did have to quiet down when a raggedy old hat was brought out. Over where Harry was, I heard Ron mutter something about trolls, but I just laughed at that. Mum and dad said it was easy to be sorted, but no one who hasn't been sorted was allowed to know how it was done.
The hat started to sing, amazingly enough. I don't really remember the words, but it was about the merits of each house and their founders, and then it basically told us not to worry. It was a good way to start the year.
"Boot, Terry!"
"Ravenclaw!"
Terry went to his new table with a smile on his face. One of Harry's friends down.
"Granger, Hermione!"
"Ravenclaw!"
So far the first two friends of the family were in the house for all those witty, wily Ravenclaws.
"Longbottom, Neville!"
"Gryffindor!"
My hands clapped fast for my best mate as I watched him join the best house in the school.
"McMillan, Ernie!"
"Hufflepuff!"
My turn was coming fast. In the back of my mind I realized I was before Harry, just once. A small sense of pride.
"Potter, Charlus!"
I practically skipped up to the stool and jammed the hat on my head. It began speaking almost immediately.
"Ah, a Potter! Yes, your ancestry speaks for itself..."
I should hope so, I thought happily. The hat already knew that I was perfect for Gryffindor!
"Yes, only one house for you, young Charlus," The hat seemed to breathe in a breath of air as the "mouth" on the outside (for the tiny one on the inside didn't proclaim houses after all).
Only one, of course! I mean, look at my family, I was happy, waiting to vault off of my stool and join the Gryffindors.
"SLYTHERIN!"
The hat was slowly pulled from my head at this point. My face was cold as I felt the blood drain away from it. My legs were on auto pilot as they lead me to the polite smattering of claps at the Slytherin table. My feet gave way at the end of the bench and my face slammed against the table with a forlorn thunk. I didn't even hear my brother and Ron get sorted into Gryffindor, but I knew they had. I was a disgrace to the Potter name! How could I not be in Gryffindor? The only Potter who hadn't been in Gryffindor for the past century was Dorea Potter, my grandmother, but she had been a Black at the time! And still not a Slytherin!
That night I spent all of dinner smacking my head on the table. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
The common room, I found, was completely unpleasant. Too much green! At the time, I admitted it hurt it eyes less than the brilliant gleaming colors of Gryffindor, but it was green! And silver! Slytherin colors, the colors of the worst house in the history of wizarding. I didn't want to be a dark wizard! Still, I was in Slytherin... I just wouldn't socialize with them. I would stick with Neville and Hermione, and I would be ignored the Slytherins... hopefully.
That night, I discovered I was actually a bit of a cry baby. I cried myself to sleep. It took about two hours. It's been weeks since then too. Harry avoids me, and I hide out in a boys' room so no one can see me cry. It's the boys' room equivalent of Moaning Myrtle's room, so no one ever comes in. Neville and Hermione still hang out with me, and a girl named Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff started hanging out with them (not me... yet) after Hermione helped her in Potions, and Neville helped to subdue a plant in Herbology to keep her alive. They're all mates, but Hannah is still afraid of me.
Two months have passed, and I don't commune with my own house mates. I can't really. They're Slytherin. A couple aren't as Slytherin as I expected (Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini are alright), and I group with them, mostly because they never try to set fire to me with sparks from their wands.
Harry made the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Seeker, just like he said he would. Youngest Seeker in a century. Dad was proud. It was like Harry was his only son. Of course, after the howler he sent ("How could you have gotten into the slimy snake house?! No Potter has been in Slytherin for generations! I thought your mother and I raised you better than that..."), it came as no surprise to me. If I were to make the team, he'd buy me a second rate broom now, because of the filthy house I was in. Now, there was the blatant favoritism, and even a bit of the resentment that others would expect. But I did nothing. I just hid in the bathroom on the seventh floor and cried.
Halloween was tonight. The anniversary of Harry getting his scar, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named disappearing (Mum and Dad told us he might not really be gone), and after a disastrous transfiguration lesson, I decided to just skip the feast and hide in my bathroom. I stomped through the halls and heard Harry talking to Ron.
"Why does that stupid Ravenclaw keep bothering us anyway?" Ron complained. "It's no wonder she hasn't got any real friends, I mean, those guys who act like her friends just want her homework help-"
"Shut up!" I didn't know what I was doing really. I knew who they were talking about after all. Hermione told me how she wanted to make more friends, and only having Neville to talk to in Charms, how she was trying to become friends with Ron as well. "Don't talk about Hermione that way!"
Harry and Ron did stop, as if just noticing I was in the corridor. Harry quirked his brow, and gave me a calculating look. Since when could he lift just one brow? He spent a lot of time practicing, but he could never do it. Until now anyway.
"What do you care, Slytherin?"
Those words... they came from Harry. My own brother, my twin brother said that. I was... numb. My eyes stung, they were too hot, and I turned, running away, to the other stairs that led to my bathroom. I spent the evening crying. Hermione had followed me, trying to get me to come out. It didn't work.
The bell to signify everyone was to go back to their dorms sounded through the castle, loud, low, and almost ominous. I stood and left the stall I was crying in, wiping my eyes with toilet paper. My hand was on the knob, and as I turned it, a loud thud sounded, shaking rubble from the ceiling. Again, and again, and the fourth time, whatever it was seemed to have hit its mark as the heavy door exploded inward.
I felt something strike my head and blacked out, hearing a single call of a spell I didn't recognize. If I had realized how right Ron's words about first years fighting trolls had been, I wouldn't be in this predicament, but either way, just two months into my Hogwarts career, I was attacked by a troll that had, somehow, found its way all the way up to the seventh floor bathroom, and it bashed my skull in because I couldn't get away from a door soon enough. Sad, right? I thought so.
Author's note: Okay, that's the prologue I guess. I hope it was good, but whatever. Odd chapters will be in the perspective of someone other than Chaz, and evens will be in Chaz's POV. Most often Non-Chaz will be Harry and Hermione. I will always label the POV before the section starts. If you have anything to critique (whether rudely or no) please do so. I can't improve my writing if people are just like "great chapter" or "you suck". It doesn't do anything but give me a head the size of Prongs' (or, in the case of this story, Harry) or make me emo (as in Harry of the canon series).
Also, if you could suggest any good time travel/dimensional travel stories that are Harry Potter or Naruto, I will love you forever. For some reason I like "Harry is Salazar" stories as well. Harry raises Voldemort stories are good too (although none can measure up to DobbyElfLord's Altered Destinies). Harry raises himself are alright I suppose, and certain "Harry, brother of the BWL". If they are in my favorites or C2, I've read it though (trust me, I'm on here a lot...). Also, for some reason only Merlin knows, I've come to like the Sirius/Harry ship. I don't know why, and it kind of scares me, but I have started to like reading about the HMS Sirry (or would it be Harius?). If you know any good ones, please inform me. Thanks.
Okay, so... I dunno if I was being original with this. I've just never read a story where the main character really is the sibling of the BWL (except "Harry's mary-sue twin sis/bro" clichés) where the BWL really is the BWL, not some attention seeking prat of a sibling who was mistakenly declared the savior. Those are always full of neglect.
And no, Charlus will not be neglected. His dad is in shock, and our dear main character hasn't read any of his mum's letters in case she's pissed too (she isn't, she is Lily after all!). Harry just isn't sure how to deal with having his brother (whom he always treated as just that) being in Slytherin... okay, no, I'm lying. But you'll find out the truth next chapter :) Charlus has always been, and always will be, well cared for. I really hate it when their like "oh, the BWL's brother doesn't get anything nice even though his family is filthy stinking rich". Screw that. Lily and James were good people, and they won't disown their kid just because the other one is famous, or even if he's a Slytherin. Seriously people! Have you not read the books? Know you nothing of these people?
End of rant: In conclusion, people have no grasp of the Lily and James characters when they write those stories, and I am proud to say I still have a brain. Thank you. Just because there is favoritism, doesn't mean it's a huge thing. The worst of it really is the aforementioned howler, which James feels very guilty about, just so you know. He just doesn't know how to apologize.
This story will not be slow. Seriously, Book one ends on chapter 5, Two on eleven, and so on. It's quick, I would like to think in depth, and hopefully not with too many notes this big O.O'