Thank you, Mango, for helping me write this chapter!


Allen wasn't at all happy with the Hat's decision, but he had to admit that at least the common room was nice. Apparently it was in the same corridor as the kitchen, and it's entrance was located in a stack of barrels. The password, he knew, was to tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. He would have to remember that clearly if he didn't want to end up doused in vinegar. The room itself was earthy, round. Yellow and black and honey, with a lot of plants.

The boy's room was cozy. Wooden bedsteads and patchwork quilts. He had to share room with a pompous boy named Ernie Macmillan, a Muggleborn named Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Wayne Hopkins.

He went to bed straight away, not before saying one thing. "Call me Allen."

Justin tilted his head. "I thought your name was Harry?"

"It is."

His roommate frowned in confusion, before giggling. "You're strange."


If there was anyone as upset about Allen being in Hufflepuff as he was, it was Riliane. It had been hundreds of years, but it felt like septillions, and this dumb hat had the nerve, the gall to separate them again? She was having none of it.

She paced back and forth, venting to herself, plotting ways to get him into Gryffindor, Germaine simply watching and laughing. She missed her little brother, absolutely, but if that's where he was destined to be she couldn't fight it; she had bigger problems. For example, this bratty child being her roommate. Eventually retrieving a book and reading, she found the girl-who-lived asleep by the time she finished. Ranted herself to sleep, it seems.


The Hufflepuffs had quickly divided in groups, as people were prone to do. Or, more accurately, most of the Hufflepuffs went into groups. Allen remained alone, maybe because of his famous status had made people shy to approach him, maybe it was his antisocial personality. At least Clarith Longbottom and Michaela Perks talked to him. They seemed to enjoy Herbology.

Interested in the curriculum, Allen had approached his head of House with a few questions.

"Can you explain a little bit about the different subjects?" Allen had asked politely the second day.

"The core classes, which you are required to take for the first five years, are broken down into three basic types of classes. First, there are the wand based subjects; which include Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Next, are the passive practical classes that require a person's innate magic but use few, if any, actual spells; those classes are Potions, Herbology (which is the class I teach), and Flying Class (which is only offered for first years)."

"I see."

"The final group of classes are strictly informational or theoretical in nature and those two classes are; Astronomy and History of Magic. In third year, you will have the option of adding one or more electives which include; Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Muggle Studies, or Divination. The first three are considered passive practical classes and the latter two informational. You'll learn more about those at the end of your second year though."

"What about basic classes such as Math, English, Social Studies, Science, and Art?" Maybe even Fencing, he did miss it. Or cooking, that was something he knew he was good at.

"I'm afraid we don't offer any muggle courses at Hogwarts; there just isn't enough time to fit them into the schedule and they have no practical application in our world."

"How do you expect the students to function out in the real world when they are finished with their magical education, if they don't have a grasp of basic academics?" Allen asked with a slight frown.

"All of our students adjust to life outside of Hogwarts quite easily, the majority starting a wide variety of magical careers right out of school. Some careers obviously require a bit more schooling, such as Healers and Aurors, but on the whole you'll learn everything you need to know before you graduate."

"And if we don't wish to remain in the magical world? If we'd rather return home and pursue a job in the 'muggle' world?" Allen countered, feeling more than a touch uncomfortable by the idea that he'd have to stay in the magical world.

"Ah… well… occasionally we do lose the odd muggleborn witch or wizard, every now and then, but on the whole magicals prefer to stay in our world. It's better that way, safer for all involved. Those that do leave are rarely ever heard from again, so I am personally unsure what measures they have taken to fit back into their rather boring lives in the muggle world," Professor Sprout hesitantly explained. "We at Hogwarts encourage all of our students to remain in the wizarding world, where they belong; where they can be a productive part of society."

Allen found himself highly disagreeing.


Allen's third night at Hogwarts was worse than his second. The nightmares merged together, from the guillotine to his sister possessed to endless what-ifs. But was awake now, and had to start the day. Quietly, he went to the bathroom and showered making as little noise as possible.

Warm water.

To him, it was still luxury, though. He couldn't forget the times when water had been icy. He remembered the hitching of his breath when the water had come crushing down… And he' tried to warm it, but it had not been possible.

One of the reasons he was glad to be an early-riser was that it was unlikely to meet another person in the bathroom. He really disliked questions concerning some of the scars on his body.

He put on his jumpers, a shirt that would need some serious sewing very soon and put on his school uniform.

It wasn't until he had gone down for breakfast that he was aware enough to pay attention to a mini commotion.

"Oh no, double Potions," Justin groaned, "First thing this morning. That's just cruel." This sentence caused Allen to shiver a bit.

"What's wrong with Potions?"

Silence followed his question.

"It's taught by Professor Snape," some boy from the upper years said, but several people hushed him. It took Allen five seconds to realize that it wasn't due to showing disrespect, but because, apparently, this wizard had the uncanny ability to hear things he'd better not. Ten minutes later, Allen had the impression of a rather inhuman being that was feared by half of his house. Only very few, like Cedric Diggory, spoke highly of Slytherin's Head of house. It appeared that he very much favored his own house, but that most Ravenclaws managed to gain his… acceptance, but he held no patience for many Hufflepuffs and absolutely no tolerance for the Gryffindor house.

When he first laid eyes on him, Allen knew he wouldn't get along with this professor.

His eyes were cold and empty reminding him of dark tunnels. Never before had he seen a person possessing an eye-colour so dark, one was inclined to call them black.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he spoke barely above a whisper.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…" Flitwick, McGonagall, Sprout, they all loved their subject with passion, this man, however... "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." The last sentence was like a bucket full of cold water splashed into Allen's face.

He surely knew how to work with his voice.

That was a very dangerous man.

On went the list until, "Harry Potter." There was an edge to the name, Allen instantly was wary of. The wizard, no matter how quietly he'd murmured it, had almost spit 'Potter'.

Their eyes met again, and Allen was quite aware that the man knew his name. He managed to force his features to remain blank. He'd learned long ago that demonstrating fear in the face of a predatory being was never a good idea. "Our new...celebrity."

As he ended, Allen felt his heart starting to pound.

And not in a good way.

"Potter," it was frightening and fascination at once to listen to such a silky tone when it spat a word, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Allen's eyes went wide for a moment. He hadn't expected the lesson to start with a quiz. He didn't know what the combination resulted into, but he knew what each plant did.

"Asphodel itself belongs to the lilies, its root has sedative qualities, especially in powdered form," powdering a root enhanced its effect, as far as he'd read in his Potions book, "And wormwood causes depression if not then destruction of the nerves, but the latter is avoided due to making it an infusion. I'm not sure what the exact result is called, but it definitely puts you to sleep or causes you to become immobile at the very least."

Snape was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, "What did you do, Mr Potter? Learn all the ingredients without glancing at the possible combinations?"

Allen was at loss for a moment. What did he want to hear? He hadn't learned the book by heart; he'd lacked the time to do so.

He hadn't known this was a requirement at this school. Still at loss, he remained silent.

"Well, if you don't answer, then please answer the following question: where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir." Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Justin's hand lifted and smiled at the sight of his enthusiastic classmate. It froze instantly, when he saw the Potions professor's eyes narrow dangerously.

"I wonder why your lack of knowledge amuses you, Potter."

Allen managed to keep his eyes open, but as despair overcame him, it was hard not to.

Why? Why did adults always misread his actions?

Suddenly, he heard a satisfied snicker knowing exactly whose voice it was. He clenched his jaw, but remained still.

It had been only the first class, but if that was a prelude of what was to come Allen was dreading it because of the caustic insults Snape rained down upon his head.

Now, a difference between the twins:

Maybe it was a leftover of his first life, but Allen found himself unwilling to rise to the bait. He didn't want to get in trouble so soon. Do shut up, I can make brioche and murder. Tell me, Mr. Snape, have you had to face the wrath of an entire kingdom as a mere child? Have you ever put yourself on the line to protect the one you hold most dearly? Have you had to face every single day staring at her smile, yet still feeling oh so alone? Have you ever been stared at with so much hatred that you could feel it within your soul? Have you ever died to protect the only person left that truly matters, or even died at all? I think NOT, Mr. Snape, sir.

Riliane, by contrast, had reacted rather spectacularly and aggressively. "What on earth makes you believe that you at all have the right to berate me, to make me seem like I have the mind of a dung beetle? Your job is to teach us, not run a pig farm, so stop acting like it! Passionate in your art you are indeed, but isn't that entirely why you should treat those you teach with respect? If anything, YOU are the reason why nobody ever wants to learn potions, not the art itself! If you treat me or anyone else like this, don't expect me to treat you kindly in return!" for I am the Prideful Princess, I am the Daughter of Evil. Anyone who stands in my way will receive dire consequences.

It was actually her receiving the 'dire consequences', her outburst gaining her both immense respect from the students in her class, and detention.


It was Friday, almost night, and Allen was getting desperate. He missed his sister so much; it was like having a stomachache. He needed to be with her. He needed to know she was doing alright. He chose to call those desperate measures Hansel and Gretel.

He was quite ambivalent to the older twins, as long as they didn't turn their behavior on him. They enjoyed humiliating any student not in Gryffindor. They especially loved to pick on the younger Slytherins with all manner of cruel and humiliating 'pranks' for no real reason other than that they could.

In fact, there was a huge bullying problem school wide that was ignored and supported by the staff; if only by the lack of repercussions on those caught bullying other students. The two worst houses were Gryffindor and Slytherin, though Ravenclaw wasn't too far behind (though the eagles tended to be smart enough not to get caught most of the time). Hufflepuff gave as good as they got as well, though if there was bullying between members of their own house it was not readily apparent – not like it was in the other three houses.

That kind of behavior sickened Allen to no end and made him wish he didn't have to be here. It also made him draw even further away from his peers. This, of course, made him a target for the worst of the bullies as they wrongly assumed he would be an easy target.

Not for Hansel and Gretel, so far. He was saved the embarrassment when they sought him out, instead of otherwise.

"Little badger, we have…" Hansel started.

"Searched for you…" Gretel continued with a smirk identical to her brother's.

"Impatiently. We are giving you…"

"An offer you can't deny." The last sentence was spoken simultaneously.

"May I first hear the offer, gentleman and sweet lady, or have you already been taught the art of reading another being's mind, allowing you to be aware of my thoughts?" Allen asked politely.

The twins' smiles only faltered for a second in astonishment, but were followed by brighter grins.

"Thy cunning wit is much needed, sire. Would you please share it with us deprived souls?" Hansel asked, bowing deeply causing Harry to chuckle. He bowed his head a bit and his shoulders twitched in amusement.

"'We always speak the truth,' the trickster told the fool, 'For when we lie, people know we cheat.' The thing about pranksters is that people are wary of them, even when they don't plan anything. So, I guess you think adding some innocent blood to your jokes will have people lower their guard. It only works once, you know… And I'd rather not be viewed a trickster on my very first day." he quoted, then his face grew serious. "What is your offer, and what should I do in return?"


"Back from detention already?"

Germaine only gave Riliane a passing glance, absently noting her new white bow. She was carrying a set of pajamas, but no books or parchment. If she wanted to go to sleep early and not complete her homework, then so be it.

She couldn't be her babysitter. Though it would have been nice that the Weasley twins didn't try to escort her to the dorm (they didn't need to act like bodyguards, her ego was big enough already!).

Huh. Apparently when a boy tries to enter the girl's room the stairs flatten and make a slide. That's useful to know. She amused herself watching Riliane's increasingly irate attempts to climb up till the twins literally hurled her up.

Ouch. That sounded like it hurt.


Riliane went back from her detention fuming immensely. She removed her hairclips and put her pajama ruminating over it. How dare that man make such remarks, and then punish her over it! he was the professor, the adult! He shouldn't be treating her that way, treat anyone that way!

The Wizarding World was in dire need of some changes, and she would help with that!

Her righteous anger was abruptly cut off when she opened the curtains of her four poster bed. She didn't expect to find a copy of herself already sleeping. A white bow was placed on the night table. It didn't take her a second to realize what had happened. It didn't really fazed her, she and her brother had slept inside the cupboard on the same bed.

A princess sleeping with a servant. How scandalous!

At least she wouldn't dream of being killed with scissors anymore.

As she slipped under the covers, she chuckled quietly. "So you can still make people believe you're me?" she didn't really expect an answer.

"Goodnight, Allen."