SUMMARY
Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank…
This website – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'
J.K. Rowling – They are her characters after all.
CHAPTER THREE – Notable Incidents.
Harry couldn't help but feel that his first Potions lesson wouldn't go very well. Not only did the teacher have a grudge with Harry's father, but it was also the first year Slytherin's first class with the Gryffindors. Most of the Slytherins had been looking forward to this lesson, as it was common knowledge that Professor Snape, as Head of Slytherin, was incredibly biased in favour of his own house.
Knowing my luck, I'll probably be the first Slytherin to ever lose points in a Snape taught Potions Class, thought Harry as he, Blaise, Roger and Spencer all entered the Dungeon in which Potions was taught. The four of them sat down at the edge of the Slytherin group, knowing that there would probably be a fuss if any pure-blood fanatics like Malfoy or Garrett had to sit near the Gryffindors, not that Harry enjoyed the prospect of being near his brother.
Soon, everyone from first year Slytherin and Gryffindor was present and were busy getting out their stuff when the Potions Master swept into the room. As he had when welcoming the first year Slytherins, Snape regarded them in an almost unnerving manner. After a few seconds, he welcomed them to Potions, warning them that he would take a very dim view of any fooling around in his classes, before proceeding to read out the register. After he read out the names of Pansy Parkinson and Parvati Patil, he stopped.
"Ah. I see we have a pair of Potters in our midst." He stood and glared at Harry, then at Michael. "Including Michael Potter, our new… celebrity."
Harry's fists clenched slightly as he watched Michael return Snape's glare. It always has to be about him, doesn't it… He noticed that many of the Slytherins were sniggering as Snape proceeded to ask Michael some random questions.
"Potter!" said Snape. "What would I get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"
"Um… I, uh… don't know," stammered Michael.
Oh my god, he doesn't know? thought Harry. Does he actually know anything? he wondered, noting that Michael had never been a great lover of books, which had ensured that Harry usually had the Potter family book collection to himself.
"Where would I find a Bezoar stone?" Snape continued.
Stomach of a Goat, thought Harry. Come on Michael, you should know that at least.
"I… I don't know," said Michael quietly.
"In what potion are the petals of a Frinassic Plant and the seeds of a Sunflower essential ingredients?" asked Snape.
"I… um…" stammered Michael, again unable to answer the question.
"Five points from Gryffindor," smirked Snape. "It appears that fame does not necessarily ensure intelligence." He turned and looked at Harry. "Perhaps your unnoticed brother may be able to answer…"
"Draught of Living Death, Stomach of a Goat and Swelling Solution," said Harry clearly.
Snape looked at Harry with a curious mixture of surprise and anger. Don't you just hate it when you misjudge a person, eh Snape? Harry thought, trying not to laugh out loud at Snape's expression. Suddenly Snape asked Harry another question.
"Potter! What's the difference between Monkswood and Wolfsbane," he asked.
"The name," replied Harry, slightly disappointed that Snape had chosen such an easy question. "Otherwise it's the same plant."
Snape frowned slightly. "Well, Potter, if you want a more challenging question, then perhaps you can tell me the most popular use of Armadillo Bile."
Harry frowned slightly. How did he know what I was thinking? he wondered. And what does he think he's playing at, asking me that? That's an OWL level question. Oh well…
"I believe it's most common use is in the Wit-sharpening potion."
"Name one possible use of Ginger Root?" asked Snape after a slight pause.
"Also the Wit-Sharpening potion, sir," answered Harry.
"Which potion uses Frozen Ashwinder Eggs as a main ingredient?" Snape continued.
"Um… Love Potions… I think," replied Harry with a little more difficulty. Oh no, please tell me he's not going to keep asking until I get one wrong. Surely he's not as petty as Dad said he was.
Suddenly the look on Snape's face changed. Oh god, what have I done now? Harry wondered as he tried to interpret the look on the Potions Master's face.
"Damn Potters," muttered Snape angrily. "Five points to Slytherin for your impeccable knowledge Potter, and ten points from Slytherin for your insolence."
There was a shocked gasp from both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. Well, whaddaya know? Harry thought as he remembered his prediction as he entered the Potions Lab. First Slytherin to loose points in one of Snape's classes…
For the rest of the lesson, no one spoke as they were assigned to brew a simple Sleeping Potion, which presented no problem for Harry. Unfortunately, the fact that he was one of only three people to get it perfect caused Snape to accuse Harry of cheating. Harry lost yet another five points, as did Hermione Granger of Gryffindor.
There was a predictable outcry from the Gryffindors concerning this injustice against one of their own, but what really surprised Snape was the reaction of three of his Slytherins, one being the third person who had got the potion right. I'll have to keep an eye on those three, especially the Zabini boy, thought Snape as he dismissed the class. The last thing I need is for James Potter's son to reform The Marauders in MY house. The Gryffindor one can do what he likes, but young Harry will toe the line or suffer…
XxXxXxXxXxX
"G-good m-m-morning, c-class," stuttered Professor Quirrell the next day as the first year Slytherins had their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.
As the Professor stuttered his way through the usual welcome to their first welcome and an explanation of what the subject entailed, Harry started to feel slightly bored. Damn, I was so looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts! thought Harry angrily. I thought this was supposed to be a practical subject, not some boring one where all we do is bookwork.
He tried to calm himself down a bit and try to look at it from the point of view of someone else. For example, Roger, being a Muggle-born would have had no knowledge of the magical world until maybe a month ago, so all this would be new to him and to others like him. So why does Roger look as bored as I do? Harry wondered. Don't tell me he's been reading ahead.
The lesson proceeded slowly. It wasn't long before Blaise and Spencer joined Harry and Roger in a collective feeling of boredom.
"Merlin, he's just like Binns!" mumbled Blaise. "Only this guy stutters on just about every word."
"I am so gonna kill Nathan," muttered Spencer angrily. "He told me Defence Against the Dark Arts was one of the best subjects, but so far it's only marginally better than History of Magic. Even Astronomy was better – at least in that, we actually got to do something."
"Give it a chance," whispered Roger. "It might get better. This is only the first lesson after all."
"Why does he keep stuttering on every word?" wondered Harry.
"What?" said Blaise, confused at his friend's seemingly random question.
"He keeps stuttering on just about every single word," muttered Harry. "That's not normal. Most people with stutters only struggle with the first one or two words of a sentence, or the odd long word, but he seems to struggle with every word."
"Maybe it's just a really bad speech impediment," said Roger.
"Maybe," nodded Harry. "But he sounds almost like he's terrified of something."
"Who cares?" said Spencer. "You worry too much, you know that Harry?"
"Only about things that…" Harry stopped and gasped slightly. What the…? he thought as he felt a searing pain in his forehead. He reached up and felt the outline of his scar, trying not to yell out as the pain intensified. My scar! Why's it hurting?
"Hal?" whispered Spencer. "You okay?"
"What's wrong?" asked Blaise.
"Maybe we should tell…" began Roger.
"No!" said Harry, a little louder than he intended. "I'm fine," he said as those nearest them turned and glanced at the four of them suspiciously.
"You sure?" said Spencer.
"Yeah," replied Harry. "I'm fine, really."
Roger, Blaise and Spencer all looked at Harry for a few seconds before deciding to leave Harry be. They had only known him a few days, but they knew him well enough to not pursue anything if he didn't want them to. Harry sat back in his chair slightly as the pain began to fade. As he did so, he noticed that though Quirrell was addressing the whole class, the Professor's gaze seemed to be fixed firmly on him and there was something in the man's eyes that Harry didn't like – he could see the hatred mixed in with an equal amount of fear. But why? Harry wondered. Why's he looking at me like that? And what the hell just happened just now with my scar?
The second class was dismissed, Harry packed up and left the classroom as quickly as he could.
XxXxXxXxXxX
"Welcome to your first flying lesson. I am Madam Hooch and will be instructing you on the basics of Broomstick handling," said Madam Hooch as she welcomed the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years.
Harry wasn't really listening. The pain he had felt in his scar and the look that the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had given him a few hours ago was still fresh in his mind. He had hoped that his first proper flying lesson would take his mind off it, despite the fact that he had performed incredibly well the few times he had had a chance to fly a broom.
So far, it wasn't.
"Now, stand by your brooms and hold out your hand above the broom," instructed Madam Hooch. "When you are ready, say the word 'up'."
After a few seconds, the air was filled with numerous voices saying the word 'up'. Very few seemed to have any success. Harry suppressed a smirk as Ron Weasley's broom shot up and nearly hit him in the nose, while Hermione Granger's broom refused to move in the slightest. Michael however, having played Quidditch a lot more than Harry had, mainly because he was a much better Chaser than Harry, managed to get his broom into his hands with no problems. Annoyed that his brother had done the best so far, Harry simply held out his hand above the broom and it instantly shot up into his waiting hand. Those that saw this stared at Harry incredulously. Among them were Blaise, Spencer and Roger.
"Whoa!" exclaimed Spencer. "How did you…?"
"You… you did it first time!" added Blaise. "Without even having to say anything!"
"Nice one, Harry!" congratulated Roger, whose broom hadn't moved. He looked at his broom with a slightly frustrated look on his face. "I don't suppose you could give any of us any advice, could you?"
Harry paused for a second before speaking. "It's just the same as the Summoning Charm. Just picture the object, in this case the broom, already in your hand."
"But Hal," said Blaise. "Isn't the Summoning Charm a bit, y'know, advanced for us?"
Harry rolled his eyes at this. Bloody hell, I'm really going to have to introduce them to some more advanced Spellbooks at some point. "Just trust me," he said. "Summoning Charms are easy, it's just that they're not taught until later on for some reason."
"Well, if you say so Hal," shrugged Spencer.
Taking Harry's advice, the three boys tried again and managed to make their brooms rise to their hands with no problem. However, as they did this, Harry began to notice the murmuring of the others…
"Did you hear that?"
"Yeah. Summoning Charms, easy? Yeah, right."
"He did it wandlessly! Without even saying a word!"
"See? I told you Potter wouldn't be able to resist trying to make himself look good."
"Who does he think he is, showing off like that? At least Michael doesn't feel the need to show off what he can do."
Probably because he can't actually DO anything! Harry wanted to yell back at the Gryffindor girl, who he recognised from the Sorting as Parvati Patil. Instead, Harry closed his eyes and sighed.
Eventually, the lesson moved onto the actual flying of the brooms. Everything seemed to be going well until someone fell off their broom. Harry looked around to see who had fallen, though he had already guessed that he or she was a Gryffindor judging by the sniggering he heard from his fellow Slytherins.
Oh, I hope it was Michael, thought Harry. That would be just brilliant – 'The Boy-Who-Lived falls off his broom in his first flying lesson,' he'd never hear the end of it. However, Michael was still in the air. Oh no, groaned Harry. First Potions, now Flying Lessons – nothing ever seems to go right for Neville.
The class were all called back down to the ground as Neville Longbottom was led away to the Hospital Wing by Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch. However, before she left with Neville, McGonagall gave the rest of the first year students a very serious sounding warning that no one was to even touch a broom until she got back.
Unsurprisingly, once the class was alone, Malfoy began to run his mouth at Neville's expense. Equally as predictably, Michael sprung to Neville's defence in true Gryffindor fashion. As much as Harry got on with Neville whenever their two families got together, Harry decided to stay out of the verbal confrontation, finding that he didn't particularly want to side with either Malfoy or his twin brother. However, when Malfoy picked up a small object off the ground and Harry heard the word 'Remembrall', he instantly knew that, if left up to Michael, Neville would never get his property back.
"Give it back, Malfoy!" shouted Michael as his fellow Gryffindors eyed Malfoy angrily.
"Or what, Potter?" taunted Malfoy. "You think I'm scared of you? You're nothing compared to me."
"Maybe so," said Harry from behind Malfoy. "But that doesn't really mean much. Besides, I'm the one you should worry about, Drakey-boy."
"Is that so!" sneered Malfoy, barely managing to hide his anger. "If you're so great, then come and take it."
Before Harry could do anything, Malfoy had grabbed a nearby broom and taken off. Harry shook his head slightly and smirked. "Running away already? Oh well," he sighed as he held out his hand and summoned another broom and mounted it.
"Harry, don't," said Roger anxiously. "You'll only get…"
But Harry wasn't listening as he took off in pursuit of Malfoy. As he began to catch up with Malfoy, Harry saw a look on Malfoy's face that told him that he hadn't expected Harry to follow him, after all, following Malfoy was something a Gryffindor would do, not a Slytherin. Yet, there Harry was, following Malfoy, fully intending to knock him off his broom as soon as he caught up. However, just as Harry was almost close enough to grab Malfoy, he saw him turn his head and yell "If you want it so bad, then catch!" before seeing him throw the Remembrall towards the ground. For some reason, Harry immediately dived downwards in pursuit of the plummeting Remembrall.
Why am I doing this? he wondered as the ground began to get alarmingly close. Why am I risking my life for Neville Longbottom's Remembrall?
Before he could answer either of those questions, Harry felt his hand close around the spherical object and he pulled out of the dive just short of creating a cartoonish Harry-shaped hole in the ground. As Harry quickly flew back to the group, he realised that everyone was staring at him with looks of total shock.
Oh boy, sighed Harry as he landed and put the broom down. More 'Harry the show-off' comments coming up. He looked around and saw Malfoy standing by Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and Cuthbert Garrett. With a side order of pain for Malfoy while we're at it, he added as he took a few steps towards them, but before he could do anything unpleasant to Malfoy or his cronies, he was interrupted by a loud and very angry sounding voice yelling his name.
"Harry Potter!!!" yelled McGonagall as she stormed towards the group. "Just what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?"
"Maybe you should ask Malfoy," muttered Harry, holding up the Remembrall. "He's the one who tried to smash Neville's Remembrall."
McGonagall glared at Harry, then at Malfoy. "Is this true?" she asked the Slytherins forcefully. To no one's surprise, most of them denied it, so McGonagall asked the Gryffindors. Harry watched nervously, wondering whether they would support him or let him get into major trouble. To Harry's relief, the Gryffindors decided to side against Malfoy.
The Gryffindor Head of House turned back to Harry once she heard what had happened.
"Come with me." she commanded.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Professor Snape was not at all happy when the Deputy Headmistress called him to his own office, where he found both McGonagall and Harry Potter.
I should have known that Potter would be up to no good soon enough, he thought irritably when he saw Harry. However, what the Deputy Headmistress told him after he had enquired as to why he had just been made to leave the third year Hufflepuffs on their own intrigued him. How very Gryffindor of young Potter, he thought, wondering if perhaps the Sorting Hat had made a mistake in the case of Harry Potter.
"Well, now that you've heard all the details, I will leave it up to you to decide what should be done about this blatant show of disrespect for authority," said McGonagall.
Curiously, young Potter, rather than looking nervous or ashamed, called after McGonagall as she went to leave. "Give this back to Neville when you see him," he said as he handed what must have been the Remembrall that McGonagall had mentioned.
"Potter," Snape said, once McGonagall had left. "I want you to tell me, in your own words, exactly what happened."
This seemed to surprise the boy slightly, though to his credit, he did a good job hiding it. "Malfoy started making fun of Neville after he was taken to the Hospital Wing, then he found Neville's Remembrall and tried to keep it. My brother tried to get it back by yelling at Malfoy so I decided to step in, but the second I said anything, Malfoy grabbed a broom and took off, daring me to follow, so I did. But when I managed to catch up with him, he tried to smash the Remembrall by throwing it toward the ground, so I dived after it, caught it before it hit the ground and returned to the group with the intention of making Malfoy suffer... sir," he said without any hesitation.
The intention of making Malfoy suffer? Snape mentally repeated to himself. In all my years, that's the first time someone's ever said anything like that without showing an ounce of fear. Snape decided to check the boy's story and used his Legilimency to relive the crucial moments, though this only took a few seconds.
Perhaps this incident can act to our advantage, thought Snape as an idea formed within his calculating mind. Snape looked at the boy before him. He's not like James at all, he realised. Nor is he that much like his mother. He seems to be completely different from anyone else in his family, especially that twin brother of his.
"Ten points will be taken from Slytherin for blatant disregard of a teacher's instructions," he said, expecting some kind of reaction, but not getting one other than a slight nod. "And I would like you to take this note to Marcus Flint." he continued, writing something out on a piece of parchment. "You may read it if you wish, but make sure you report to Flint at five o'clock today." The boy took the note but didn't look at it. Good, thought Snape approvingly. Never show your curiosity in front of anyone. "Now get back to your class before I change my mind."
He watched the boy nod slightly before leaving. Again, Snape found himself surprised by the son of James Potter. Any other person would have stammered the words 'yes sir' and left very quickly, even the majority of my Slytherins, but this boy... Perhaps I should keep a close eye on him from now on.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Harry and his friends sat in the common room in silence – Harry had just told them that he had just been made the new Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team, which was the last thing anyone had expected to hear.
"You know what this means, don't you?" asked Spencer.
"Yeah, Hal," added Blaise. "You're only a first year, but you're now on the Quidditch team."
"Is that unusual?" asked Roger.
Harry nodded. "First years aren't allowed to join the Quidditch teams," he answered.
"But seeing as that rule's just been broken..." started Blaise.
"It means that Hal here is probably one of the youngest Quidditch players in this school's history!" finished Spencer.
Harry couldn't help but grin as Spencer said this. Well, I didn't expect to outperform Michael QUITE this much, but then again, I've always liked Quidditch when I'm not playing as a Chaser or Keeper… Oh Merlin, I wonder what Dad'll think when he hears about this?
"So what kind of broom are you gonna get?" asked Blaise. "I mean, you can't use one of the school ones."
"Yeah, Hal," agreed Spencer. "Those old Shooting Stars won't do you much good against the rest of the school. Everyone else'll have Cleansweeps, Comets and Nimbuses."
"What's the difference?" asked Roger, still unfamiliar with many of the things that wizards took for granted. "Between the brooms, I mean."
"Trust me, Rodge," said Spencer. "There's a big difference between different types. Right now, the best broom you can get is the Nimbus 2000. It can reach well over a hundred miles an hour, can do 360 degree turns in the blink of an eye and they're incredibly reliable."
"The Cleansweep Eleven and the Comet 300 aren't too bad either, plus they tend to be cheaper," said Blaise.
"But the new Nimbus 2001 that's supposed to be coming out next year is supposed to be the best yet," said Spencer enthusiastically.
Oh, I wish I'd paid more attention to Dad and Michael whenever they talked about Quidditch, thought Harry as he listened to his two friends discussing brooms while Roger just sat there listening carefully and trying to decipher their words.
"So what kind of broom are you thinking of getting, Harry?" asked Spencer once he and Blaise had finished discussing the merits of Comets, Cleansweeps and Nimbuses.
"Depends on my Dad really," shrugged Harry. "Somehow I doubt he'll be too willing to buy a broom for Slytherin's new Seeker. If I were in Gryffindor, then maybe, but Slytherin? Not a chance."
"Why does he hate Slytherins?" asked Roger. "He doesn't think we're all like Malfoy, Garrett and the rest, does he?"
"Most people do," muttered Blaise.
"Including my parents," added Spencer. "I got a letter from them saying how disappointed they were that I'd broken family tradition, seeing as every other Westwood that's come to Hogwarts has been a Hufflepuff."
"But why all this fuss about houses?" asked Roger incredulously.
"Some people think that all members of a certain house are a certain thing," said Harry. "Because Gryffindor's favoured trait is courage, all members of Gryffindor are supposedly brave and just. In other words, they're the good guys. Hufflepuffs are seen as mediocre because loyalty and hard work aren't seen as being as important as the other houses' perceived qualities. Ravenclaw favours intelligence, therefore all Ravenclaws are bookworms. All of those houses are perfectly acceptable to most people though – it's Slytherin that's the problem for most."
"Why?" asked Roger.
"We're supposed to be evil," answered Spencer.
Harry nodded. "Ambition and cunning are seen as selfish traits, therefore all Slytherins are selfish, and because most of the pure-blood fanatics end up in Slytherin, that makes us all nasty, selfish, bigoted racists," he elaborated. "Not that most people can talk. I mean, just look at the way most people regard Squibs, Werewolves, Half-breeds, sentient Magical Creatures and especially Parselmouths."
"Parselmouths?" said Spencer. "But I thought they actually were inherently evil."
"Is that so?" Harry responded in a tone of voice that told the others that there was more to this than they were seeing.
"Well… the Dark Lord was a parseltongue, wasn't he?" stammered Blaise. "That's what my parents told me anyway."
"You're parents?" exclaimed Spencer. "How would they know?"
"They're friendly with people with the Malfoys and the Garretts, remember?" said Blaise quickly. "They agree with the whole 'pure-blood superiority' thing, even though they didn't actually become Death Eaters," he added for the benefit of the others.
"What are…?" Roger began to ask.
"Supporters of Voldemort," muttered Harry. "Oh for crying out loud, Spence, it's just a name – a stupid one at that. I mean, I could probably think of a better 'evil' name that that!" he said loudly, causing several nearby Slytherins to look up to see what the fuss was all about.
"Keep your voice down!" hissed Blaise.
Harry nodded slightly. "Sorry," he said apologetically.
"Don't worry about it," mumbled Spencer. Suddenly, he grinned. "Alright then, go on – make up a name."
"What?" said Harry, surprised by Spencer's sudden change of mood.
"Yeah, Hal," said Blaise. "After all, we are nasty evil Slytherins, so we should all probably come up with 'Dark Lord' type names, just in case."
"You what?" exclaimed Roger, failing to recognise the sarcasm in Blaise's voice. "What do you mean 'just in case'? None of us are going to become Dark Lords!"
"Well, if Spence's right and that Parselmouths are evil, then I probably will." Harry interjected before he could stop himself. Oh bugger! Why did I just say that?
Blaise and Spencer all stared at Harry, completely stunned, while Roger simply wondered what a Parselmouth actually was.
"You…" stammered Spencer after a long silence. "You're a… a Parseltongue?"
"I think so," nodded Harry. "There was this one time a snake told me to 'watch where I was going' when I nearly trod on it while I was wandering through Gryffindor Forest."
"It spoke to you?" said Roger. "You can speak to animals?
"Just snakes," explained Blaise. "That's what a Parselmouth is – someone who can talk to snakes."
"Cool," said Roger. "So what else did this snake say?"
"Well, it seemed awfully surprised when I apologised, then complimented me on my politeness before slithering off somewhere," replied Harry. "At first I thought I'd just imagined it, but then I accidentally freed a snake from it's container in Bristol Zoo and it thanked me as it made its desperate bid for freedom."
There was another long silence between the four boys.
"Um… Harry," said Blaise cautiously. "You wouldn't…"
"Nope," interrupted Harry, correctly anticipating what Blaise was going to say. "Besides, I'm probably nowhere selfish enough to be a Dark Lord bent on world domination."
Surprisingly, this was all that Harry's friends seemed to need as far as assurances were concerned and the conversation quickly returned to the subject of Quidditch.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Two days later, Harry was shocked to find that a parcel had arrived for him – from his father.
What on earth… Harry thought as he stared at the elongated package he had just placed on his bed. There's no way! I haven't even told them yet, he thought as he picked up the accompanying letter and opened it.
Harry
Michael wrote and told me about what happened and about you becoming Slytherin's new Seeker. Now I know that you've never been the type to actually ask for anything, but even if you will be playing for Slytherin, I knew that you would need a decent broom – consider it an apology for that Howler I sent you.
Do us proud Harry, though in many ways, you already have.
Dad.
Harry re-read the letter another three times, scarcely daring to believe it. Dad brought a broom – for me? Even though I'm a 'nasty Slytherin'! He looked at the package again. I wonder what kind he means when he says 'a decent broom'? Harry wondered as he reached out and began to undo the packaging. However, the surprise that Harry felt about his Dad actually buying him a broom was nothing to the surprise he felt when he actually got a good look at the broom itself.
Just then, Roger, Spencer and Blaise all entered the dorm. "There you are," said Blaise. "We were beginning to wonder where…" He stopped suddenly as the three boys spotted the broom on Harry's bed. "Is that a…" began Blaise.
"It can't be…" continued Spencer.
"I think it is…" said Blaise.
"Is it?" asked Spencer.
Harry grinned and nodded. "This, gentlemen, is a Nimbus 2000," he said. "My very own Nimbus 2000."
-
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Well, I'm certainly glad that my take on 'Slytherin/Brother of BWL' Harry is going down well. I guess that's proof positive that you don't need to make Harry's parents into Dursley-a-likes for these kinds of stories.
Concerning The soon-to-be Guys – Just thought I'd give you an idea about what the OC Guys are meant to be like…
ROGER APPLEBY – As W-Z-D-H mentioned, Roger is partially based on Lupin, in that he's a bit of book-worm. He also has a bit of Hermione Granger in him (Again, book-worm tendencies as well as Muggle-born heritage) and Peter Pettigrew (Appearance-wise & perceived status within The Guys by others, but not the figure of fun for the others like Wormtail was.) In short, Rodge could be described as "the smart, quiet one" (though not that quiet).
BLAISE ZABINI – Appearance from a combination of Canon and Fanon. Is a version of Blaise that started out not agreeing with the 'pure-blood' ideology but, unlike Canon, not forced to conform. "The cool one."
SPENCER WESTWOOD – "The loud, fun-loving, cool one". Combination of James Potter & Sirius Black, minus the over-inflated egos.
Concerning Harry & ? – I've already made a decision on who Slytherin Harry ends up with, though we probably won't see much of her for a while. You'll probably never guess in a million years, but I'll give you a hint – she's already been mentioned at least once.
I was hoping to get this posted on Hogmanay, but I guess New Year's Day doesn't make too much of a difference. A Happy New Year to one and all.
