Chapter 14

On the third Thursday of the month, Louis had his first ever flying lesson.

Now, this wasn't exactly important in any of his plans but he was a young boy, almost a teenager, and sports were something that interested him. He had never been able to go flying, even though Shira introduced him to many things she hadn't been able to teach him this. He lived in a muggle orphanage and she didn't live anywhere, just went from hotel to hotel, so it wasn't like they could fly in their backyards. So it was with nicely concealed vigor that he showed up to his flying lesson, two minutes earlier than his fellow Ravenclaws and there were no Hufflepuffs there yet either.

There were two rows of brooms being laid out, as Madam Hooch, according to Cho, was still setting things up and conveniently ignoring his presence. Taking a look at them, he saw that some were oddly discolored from age and others had little pieces of sticks poking out from the rest of the frames. Both of those were highly dangerous and, not wanting to have to deal with such a thing, he rushed to locate the finest one of the lot, which happened to be a broom near the end. It had a few clearly seen rough patches and was lighter than it should be in color but he figured that was his best bet.

"Louis!" A voice yelled from across the yard and he looked up in surprise to see a grinning Neville, waving his hand around, walking towards him with Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and Hermione. He felt his eye twitch a little in irritation at the possibility of having to deal with so many people but pushed the feeling aside, not wanting to put a damper on anyone's mood.

"Hey Neville." He greeted the boy in a soft tone and with a nod once they approached him.

"How have you been, mate?" Neville, Louis noted, looked significantly better since he had first seen him on the train. There, the boy has been shy and nervous, and while one could chalk such a thing up to nerves of starting Hogwarts, he had known that that way what the boy was like. Now, Neville still twitched a little uncomfortably with his anxiety around other people but he was definitely much more comfortable. Making friends with the girls beside him seemed like it did wonders for his confidence, even if it was still building. Hufflepuff was good for him.

"I've been well. You?" He had a few classes with the boy and while they sat next to each other in History of Magic, there wasn't any chance for talking as it was always silent in that room, save for the snores, and so everyone would hear. He didn't work with Neville in potions, having been partnered with Lavender Brown on that first day and the two having had decided to continue to work together since they were both competent and didn't bother the other uselessly, so he didn't get to talk with him in there either, not that they could anyway. Snape was vicious. He was honestly curious for the boy who decided was his to protect, even if said boy didn't know or need it.

"Good, good. You excited for flying?" Here, Neville surprised him by scowling at the brooms.

"You don't look too excited," He teased, grinning a little at the boy's hostility. Neville shook his head, even as he approached the broom to Louis's left. Behind him, Louis saw Susan and Hannah grab the brooms directly in front of the boys and Hermione grab the one on Neville's left. She too did not look like she wanted to be here. That surprised him somewhat, as the girl had been overly excited for all of their classes (he understood on some level. It was magic after all) but he supposed her packing around a book on Quidditch and flying, spouting off a bunch of facts to herself and others, had something to do with it. Maybe she had a fear of heights? He mentally shook his head to focus.

"I'm not. My uncle tried to teach me a few times but they always ended up with me falling off. I don't have the best balance." Neville mumbled the last part, cheeks burning pink in embarrassment. Louis smiled at him.

"Still better that me. I've never tried." That seemed to cheer the boy up a bit but before he could respond to Louis, Hannah interrupted, asking Neville something that he couldn't quite pick out as her voice sounded strained and she mumbled. As the Hufflepuffs, and soon Hermione, were drawn back into their own conversation, Louis tipped his head back and enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on his face, tickling his cheeks with kisses and grazing up and down his arms. There was no real breeze, though every now and then a lazy one would curl itself around his spine, and the day was beautiful. Perfect flying weather, as Roger Davies, a third year, had declared happily that morning.

He watched as more and more of their classmates showed up, all in pairs or groups, and they lingered around the brooms, not quite approaching, and Madam Hooch glared at them and barked at them to hurry up and pick a broom, that they were starting.

For the next hour, Louis saw people have their grips and position of their brooms adjusted, and when it was time to hover above the ground, to truly begin practicing the actual flying bit, he felt a jolt of excitement (he also leaned over a told Neville to calm down and loosen his grip. The boy was strangling his broom and it was beginning to shake in protest). They slowly rose above the ground and did a few lazy laps around the courtyard, small circles at first and then progressing to larger ovals. By the end of the class, Louis was smiling, face red with excitement and exertion, and received a pat on the back by Madam Hooch, who was smirking down at him with bright eyes.

"You're a natural, Mr. Thompson. You should think about Quidditch. I'd bet you could join this year if you tried, probably any position too." She said proudly before walking off.

Following behind Neville and his friends silently, Louis considered her words. He did enjoy flying and Quidditch had somewhat interested him. But Cho, he knew, was the seeker. Roger was Chaser and their Captain was a Beater. They already had their whole team, full of people that had been on it last year as well. They were familiar with each other, enjoyed each other's company, he had seen this at dinner, and he didn't want to disrupt that. Besides, he had enough to deal with. He had a lot to look into and he didn't want to risk the chance of getting too comfortable here. It would be worse for everyone involved when he left.

Shaking his head, he went to dinner.

He had been at the school for over a month now, the date being almost halfway through October, and a great deal had happened during that time.

Louis excelled in his classes, easily being the top of them all, much to Hermione's chagrin. The poor girl seemed to decide that he was her competition and so tried her hardest to beat him. She was constantly studying, more so than she had been at the start, which was still saying something, and she fought with renewed vigor. He didn't mind as she was up in his face about it or acting rude towards him or anything but he was sure that it wasn't exactly healthy, as she tended to study at mealtimes too, forgetting to eat as much as she should, and so he promised to talk to Flitwick about his concerns. Competition never hurt anybody until, you know, it did.

He had written a letter to Shira on the last day of September, having had promised the vampire that he'd write to her once a month. He liked Shira, the woman being the only one to have tried to do anything for him, but he didn't exactly trust her with all of his secrets. She knew the big ones, the ones he kept closest to his chest, like his real identity and the metamorphagus powers, but that was mostly because he hadn't known to keep them quiet. Shira had been an ally to Voldemort. She had been deep with information and though she never told him where she received it from, he knew that it wasn't from Voldemort himself. She didn't like the man, not as a person or a leader anyway, but he had been important to the vampire community during the last war and so they had sided with him, somewhat. Shira called the man a genius gone mad. He had started out with great ideas but lost his way as he aged, as he delved too deep into the Dark Arts, became too focused on a stupid prophecy. A prophecy that, Louis himself, wasn't going to worry about for now, probably not let himself be dictated by. It had already been set into motion, though, and so he knew it couldn't be ignored. Shora had provided him with a lot of information but he knew she would side with whatever suited her people the most, even if that side wasn't his.

Shira wasn't the only magical creature he had interacted with. About a week ago, he had been walking back from the library when the staircases randomly shifted to lead him to a door. He didn't understand why, as the staircases were almost always silent by this time of day, but he felt a warm brush against his magic and so he continued forward, thinking the castle was trying to tell him something. He knew she was sentient, anyone that paid enough attention and just listened would know such a thing. In hindsight, though, he probably shouldn't have listened to a piece of architecture as he was lead to the third floor corridor and managed to come face to face with a giant, three-headed dog. Talk about surprise. Of course, he had noticed the trapdoor the dog was guarding, one of its giant paws planted firmly in front of it, and decided it wasn't a total bust. Hogwarts was a school and yet, here they were, hiding something. Something important. According to the books, Hogwarts was one of the safest places in Europe, besides the other wizarding school and Gringotts, that is. With that in mind, he wondered if the door had anything to do with the break-in at the goblin bank. He wouldn't be surprised.

And so, with an interesting adventure laying itself in front of him, Louis decided it was high time to start searching for his own training room. There were plenty of unused classrooms around the school and he could draw runes with some earth based paint around the doorframes to keep people out, though that would take some time to acquire. He walked around the school, trying to narrow his search down, and eventually settled on picking a room near the History of Magic classroom, knowing patrols weren't down there often and that the room was close to the library and closer than some other rooms to Ravenclaw tower.

He had found a room after a couple of days and a week later had started setting everything up, making sure to disguise it as much as he could since he wasn't able to draw the runes yet, still waiting for his mixing bowls he had ordered with Cho's owl. While he was adjusting some table cloths to hide the potions cauldron he was planning on using, the door had opened and he flinched, wishing he had placed more locking charms and the like upon it and spun around. Inching through the doorway were two red headed boys, both with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. They stopped when they saw him, eyes widening a bit in surprise at finding the room occupied but then their faces broke out into grins that looked too mischievous to be innocent and they quickly shut the door before making their way towards him. He blinked, surprised that they had somehow made to stand in front of him in a matter of seconds. What?

"Well, well, what-" The one of the left began, looking down at him.

"-do we have here?" The right twin finished with a grin.

Louis blinked. "Just a student. Casually standing in this room. Looking for ghosts."

The one of the right raised an eyebrow and his grin stretched into something akin to pleased. "Ghosts, huh?"

"Yep. Ghosts." Gosh, he was awful.

"What's that you're hiding there, ickle firstie?" The left twin asked, peering down at the table that he was standing in front of. Louis resisted the urge to move in front of it and stayed silent. He was sure that if he were to open his mouth all that would escape would be the obvious lie of "nothing!"

The two boys circled themselves around him to peer under the table, where they pulled the sheet back and found the cauldron, as well as the books and notebooks that were haphazardly tucked under the back corner.

"Ooh, brewing illegal potions are we?" The left twin said.

"Studying the dark arts?" Continued the right.

"Excellent!" They cheered together and Louis fought the slight smile that threatened to rear itself.

"Not at all. Just studying what I'm not supposed to understand." He said honestly. These two struck him as the kind to spot out lies easily. Their blaise attitude also suggested that they wouldn't really care what he was doing. Short of murder, he suspected they wouldn't give a damn at all.

The twins turned their heads to look back at the books and he knew they were reading the actual titles this time for they turned back to him with surprised faces.

"Grade 4, firstie?"

"Must be a genius, huh?"

He smirked not unkindly. "You could say that. I wouldn't though."

The twins didn't say anything, just turned back towards each other. They exchanged an array of raised eyebrows, pointed looks, and lip twitched as well as head nods before reaching some kind of agreement.

The left twin held out his hand. "Fred Weasley. Third year Gryffindor."

The right twin threw his hand across his brother's, forming a strange sort of X with their limbs. "George Weasley. Also a third year Gryffindor."

Louis grinned and crossed his arms, reaching out to shake both of their hands at once. "Louis Thompson. Ravenclaw. First year."

They all exchanged grins and bright eyes and in that moment, Louis knew he had done something big. He had met some important people.

He wouldn't know, for many years, that they would be his first real friends and somehow, Fred and George knew that too.

Having the famous Weasley twins of Hogwarts secretly on your side was a giant plus, Louis learned. No one knew that he had come to call the pair acquaintances, meeting up in old, abandoned classrooms throughout the week and after curfew to look over old tombs and discuss potions. Fred and George were geniuses, Louis thought, to be able to think up the things that they did. They wanted to open up a joke shop one day, he knew, and they were starting to design their own merchandise. They had all sorts of ideas, all sorts of potions and candies and pranks. Louis, while only a first year, knew a great deal about potions and as such was able to give them a fresh set of eyes and help them with their research, In exchange, they would provide him with more advanced books and help him cast some new spells should he require the help. It was a fair trade and he began to look forward to their meetings.

They never talked outside of those dusty rooms or even asked him questions inside of them and for that, Louis was grateful. He wouldn't call them friends, he hardly knew anything about them, but he would safely regard them as business partners. They each made the other's life a bit more manageable and neither side pried, making the arrangement perfect for all three of them.

It was about two weeks after his first meeting with the two that he made his way inside the library, bag slung over his shoulders and a leather bound journal in one arm, hand clutching at it's side. He walked up to the librarian's desk, someone he who didn't know the name of despite the amount of times he had been in here (it was honestly embarrassing but he refused to ask anyone), and asked her where he could find old newspapers and school records.

"Far right corner. Second shelf. Put them away neatly when you're finished." She informed him flatly, looking over her glasses at him in a way that suggested she was bored and annoyed with his very existence. Ignoring that, Louis gave her a thankful smile and walked off.

There was a table against the wall near the corner with a magnifying glass lamp atop it that he placed his bag on. Walking over to the above mentioned shelf, Louis ran his fingertips across the spines of the heavy, large looking books, reading the titles for the right ones. There were many books, over eight very long rows full on just this one shelf and on the bottom four rows were stacks of boxes labeled by year. He assumed those were the newspapers. Finally, on the second shelf (third from the corner) on the fifth row from the bottom, Louis found the books he was looking for and after three trips to his table, was able to gather them all up before returning for the proper newspapers.

After ten minutes of searching and flipping, Louis found himself sitting at the table with seven brown leather books stacked up against the wall and a pile of about fifteen different newspaper editions next to them and the lamp. The lamp, which he saw had no bulb but did have a small glass ring that filled with light when he casted lumos. A magical lamp apparently. Sliding the top book over, he ran his hand over the thin gold letters that ran across near the top of its cover.

Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry: 1971

He opened the book up with some effort and turned through the pages, looking for the section of first years and after about twenty flips or so he found them. He ran his eyes over the column of names, looking for the ones that he would whisper in secret and there, underneath the rose gold heading of Gryffindor, were the two names he had choked up at.

Lily Evans and James Potter. His parents.

It was just there names, printed in black calligraphy, but to see them, to know that they had walked these exact same halls as him, was more than he could describe. He had known, logically, that his parents had gone here, that they had learned the same things he was now, that they had eaten at the same tables and studied in the same seats, but to have the proof looking up at him was something else, something more. He couldn't believe it and yet how could he not?

He felt extremely alone right then and for the first time, he really wished he wasn't Louis Thompson but rather Harry Potter.

Louis was a muggleborn orphan that lived in France. An orphan that didn't need to know a thing about his parents and didn't want to either. He was a muggleborn that strived in magic, being the top of his class easily. Louis was the apparent rival of one Hermione Granger (to her anyway) and had no friends. Louis was a quiet boy that ate alone, sat alone, and studied alone. Louis was a secret partner to the Weasley twins. He was a boy that hid in abandoned classrooms and poured himself over advanced books and steamy cauldrons. Louis had no desire for Quidditch, had a cuddly tiger cub, and talked to snakes with attitude problems. Louis who was good at stealing and hated eating, more than just because he couldn't eat much. Louis was perpetually alone and he liked it.

Except he wasn't Louis. He was Harry. Harry Potter.

Harry who was a halfblood orphan that had been abused and abandoned in a foreign country. Harry who had parents that loved him, that died for him. Harry who survived the killing curse and was famous. Harry who had a prophecy over his shoulder and a whole entire army against him. Harry who was worshipped by some and wanted dead by others. Harry who loved flying and Quidditch. Harry who wanted to befriend Neville and talk with Hermione and cause mischief with the twins. Harry who drowned himself in hot showers and scrubbed himself raw. Harry who had nightmares and screamed. Harry who was a metamorphagus. Harry who was terrified of being alone and wanted someone to know.

As Louis, he couldn't ask anyone about Lily and James Potter. He couldn't ask his teachers if they had taught them or gone to school with them. He couldn't ask about their friends or send letters to people, asking questions. He couldn't ask what their favorite colors were or if they preferred coffee over tea. He couldn't ask if his mother loved knit sweaters or t-shirts. He couldn't ask if his father had any tattoos or scars. He couldn't ask if they had played Quidditch or what classes they were good at or if they had ever regretted having a baby in a war. He couldn't ask anyone a single real thing about them. They were Harry's parents, not Louis's, and, according to Dumbledore and the Daily Prophet, Harry Potter was receiving special training in America.

He wanted to let his features fade away. He wanted his eyes to sharpen and brighten up with color, becoming a brilliant shade of green. He wanted his hair to spring up and bounce around, darkening into a raven colored mess. He wanted his lips to become rosy again and his cheekbones to sharpen. He wanted his skin to pale, just a little, and his height to drop and his skinny frame to become skinnier. He wanted to be Harry again.

But he knew the cost of that and as much as he wanted to ask, to know more, he knew that he couldn't. He had to stay Louis. He had to. Harry and Lily and James could wait. They would have to. Maybe, if he told himself that enough, it would become true. Maybe he'd believe it.

Probably not.

Sighing, he pushed those thoughts away and returned to the book before him. He may not be able to ask questions, but he could still do research and try to find out what he could alone.

Flipping through the pages that covered the first years, he was able to discover that his mother and father had gone to school with Professor Snape (he repressed an annoyed frown at that). His mother had been second in potions and the top student in Charms her first year. His father had been top of Transfiguration. His mother came in second in their overall class for the year and his father received third. There were no pictures of his parents, though they did have a few pictures of some other students, and so he closed the book and grabbed the one that was meant to cover their second year, which basically had the exact same thing as the first and still no pictures. He did learn that his father was a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, though as a reserve anyway (which was why he wasn't in the picture).

Their third year, his mother had received the top spot for charms and arithmancy and his father retained transfiguration and gained Defense Against the Dark Arts. His mother held the second place spot and his father the first for their year group. His dad had also gained an official spot as one of the main Chasers that year, according to the team picture anyway. He traced his father's name and, for the second time in his life, he saw a picture of the man. He had a face almost exactly like his son's, with a heart shaped face and straight eyebrows and black, messy hair. He wasn't smiling in the picture, none of the team was, but it was the best picture he had ever seen.

The rest of the books covered roughly the same thing. Slowly, his parents gained the top spot in almost all of the classes and his father stayed on the Quidditch team, taking the Captain spot his sixth year. He flipped through the pages and books and watched as his mother joined the Charms Club and whatever the Slug Club was and Gobstones and became a prefect her fifth year with a sickly looking boy. The first picture he saw of her was in her fourth year as she laughed with a short haired girl, quill tucked behind her ear. She had light red hair that was pulled back into a messy bun, though loose curls framed her face. Bright green eyes danced with mirth as she dipped her head back and laughed. He smiled, comparing his own eyes and cheeks to hers, as they had a similar bone structure (he was quite literally a perfect mix of his parents). Turns out, she preferred t-shirts with cardigans. His father popped up again, besides the Quidditch picture that is, during their fifth year. In that picture, he was with three other boys in what he recognized as the Transfiguration classroom. His father was sitting on the back of a chair, his feet in the seat, and was shoving a tall dark haired boy that stood next to him in a leather jacket. Before them, was a table that had a sandy blonde haired boy with scars on his face at it and cross legged on the floor, sat a slightly plump boy with blonde hair that was snickering up at them as his friend rolled his eyes. Looking at the caption, he found their names and wrote them down, intending to write to them later. The last book he looked in held the first and only picture of his parents together. They stood with their backs straight and shoulders pulled back. His father had his arm thrown across his mother's shoulders and they were grinning, sneaking glances at each other. The caption and gold badges pinned to their chests dubbed them as the Head Boy and Girl.

After the books, Louis pulled the newspapers close to him and cast a lumos into the lamp, lighting it up so that he could better read the fading ink. He flipped through paper after paper, reading about the rise of Voldemort and the war that was escalating quickly. He read about mysterious deaths and people going missing, muggle towns raided and homes burned to the ground. He read about the carnage and piles of bodies after random attacks. He read about people murdered in the night, friends that vanished into thin air, and people tortured into insanity until it all just abruptly cut off. He read the newspaper article that was written late into the night of Halloween, 1981, thirty minutes before November 1 came about. He read about the lost of his parents and the survival of baby Harry and the supposed death of Voldemort, all verified by Albus Dumbledore himself, complete with a picture of the tarnished house. He went to the next paper, which covered the next day, and read about the Longbottoms and their new permanent stay in St. Mungos thanks to the infamous Lestranges (he jotted those names dowd too). He read about the mass murder committed by Sirius Black, he betrayed his friends, all of them, and was sent to Azkaban for the deaths of 13 muggles, Peter Pettigrew, and the aid of Lily and James Potter's death. He drew a circle around Black's name and Pettigrew's, planning to look further into it. His stack ended on the next paper, which discussed the still ongoing celebrations, Death Eater trials and hunts, and the questions surrounding little Harry Potter.

He silently and slowly packed the papers up, placing them neatly back into their drawers. He unlit the lamp, tucking his wand into the holster on his forearm, and stacked the books into his arms, sliding them back onto the shelves with a straight, emotionless face. He didn't feel a thing as he slid his arms through the loops of his backpack, tucking the short piece of paper of names into it's side pocket, and walked out, barely gracing the librarian with a nod of farewell and thanks. His feet hit the cold stone floors, echoing loudly against the empty halls as he headed up to Ravenclaw Tower. He went straight to bed that night, ignoring Sanguini's hisses and Natasha's mews, sliding beneath the covers and wrapping them around his head. He stared down at the floor, barely feeling Nat as she nudged his nose with hers and Sanguin who curled around his head. He blinked and breathed, not thinking of anything and not feeling anything either as he refused to fall asleep, wanting to just lay there. He didn't go to dinner than night, ignoring the knocks on his door that came to remind him before and offered leftovers after. He just laid there and stared.

He felt alone that night and he wasn't sure if it would ever fade. He wasn't sure he wanted it to.

A/N: Not the best but igh. I had a bit more to include for this chapter but I decided to save it for the next. Sorry about the wait, my trip got in the way and I have some tests and big papers due soon so I'm a bit busy.

Also, a few people reviewed and I wanted to address some issues. One of you said I shouldn't rant in my author notes and well . . . I did that once and people were being rude. It most likely won't happen again but I don't need to be treated harshly so I'm not just going to sit and take it. Just saying. Another said they didn't agree with some of my decisions in this story and proceeded to tell me what I should have done or could do to change it and let me just say that this is my story and it's written how I want it. Don't like it, don't read. Go make your own if it's that important to you. I don't care.

Next chapter is more parents and Neville plus a new acquaintance! Do you guys want the information on Sanguini next chap too or would you like him to have his own chapter (as that would work)? I'm more for next but you might like the stand alone better. Either works. What do you guys think so far? Have anything you want to see? I can tell you if it's coming or try to include it if it fits in!

Please review.