Drarryfanficsao3

by Suicide44

Dhhdgd

213. b

Preface

Mad ApothecaristPosted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/27085234.

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

F/F, F/M, M/M

Fandom:

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Character:

Harry Potter, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Pomona Sprout, Filius Flitwick

Additional Tags:

Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Genius Harry Potter, Adopted Harry Potter, harry potter has anger issues, Potions, Smart Harry Potter, Smart Harry, Sassy Harry Potter, Sassy Harry, Snarky Harry Potter, Attempt at Humor

Stats:

Published: 2020-10-18 Updated: 2021-04-08 Chapters: 17/? Words: 58356

Mad Apothecarist

by petra666

Summary

Petunia was maybe a bad person, however, she never thought of herself as someone cruel - so when she found a child on her doorstep and knew his life with her family would be horrid, she drove him to an orphanage.
Good for her, because that angry boy would rip her head clean of if she tried to make him into someone else than a rude genius.

Notes

Do not own Harry Potter - but I did come up with this idea so please, don't steal.

Introduction

When Petunia opened the door on the 1st of November, she screamed in shock. On her porch laid a basket stuffed with a red blanket and a small child with a bleeding cut on its forehead. She picked it up, scared that the child would die because of the cold autumn morning. They were as cold as ice and paler than any baby she has ever seen. When she took it out of the wicker basket a letter fell out of their fingers because the baby tried to get closer to her heat.

On it was her name and address in strangely familiar writing, however, she couldn't put her finger on it. She ignored it for now and put the little kid on a couch and wrapped it in a fluffy blanket. They continued their sleep, but when she controlled their pulse, everything seemed ok – except for his chilly cheeks. Yes, she thought it was a boy, judging by his short dark hair and a shirt with a car on it.

After putting the baby into a much more comfortable sleeping position, she sat on an armchair and opened the plain-looking letter. Every word stabbed her heart and hurt her soul – maybe she hated Lily for more than ten years, however, she never wished her to be dead. Also, she cried for her nephew, who lost his parents and came into a family that couldn't love him enough.

Petunia knew she would always see her sister in him, even now she could see he took after her more than he took after his father. And Vernon… if he saw an ounce of magic in his house, he would most likely try to beat it out of him. He would be hated and maybe even abused – she knew who she wedded (and she adored Vernon's love for normal and bland). Lily's son wouldn't be normal, he would be a wizard.

So, after feeding her son and calling her friend to look after him, she tried to wake up her nephew, Harry Potter. He was cranky – not even Dudly was that bad after a nap and he was considered ‚the worst in the mornings' by everyone in her group of friends with children. He didn't cry but he made funny angry faces at her when she tried to feed him. „Me," he did grabby hands in the direction of his breakfast.

„Do you want to feed yourself?" she raised her eyebrow.

„Yep," he gestured wildly and his scowl turned even deeper. „Only mommy can," he pouted and took the plastic spoon in his uncoordinated hand (Petunia had to stop another wave of tears). Although he was younger than his cousin, he could eat without too much mess and he even asked if she had a potty. Thankfully she did, even though Dudly still used his nappies. Harry inherited his mother's smartness, as was obvious.

After the morning ritual, she strapped him into the child carrier in her car and said bye-bye to her chubby son and her friend that hold him in her pale arms. „When are you going to arrive back?" Maria asked but looked only at the dark-haired child with a surprisingly sharp gaze.

„In an hour or two – again I thank you for - "

„No problem dear. He needs you right now more than Dudly." The taller woman hugged her loosely with one hand and even though she could hear Duddly starting to tear up, she sat into the driver seat and drove away. She was kind of glad that Vernon had a work trip that week because he would probably make a lot more ruckus than needed.

In London she arrived in the first orphanage she could find on the map and took Harry out of his seat. He wasn't happy about being carried in her arms but he kept silent when she asked him to be nice. ‚Such a sweet boy…' Petunia thought with a small smile and knocked on the main door. She needn't wait for too long before a matron opened the door. She smiled at her with a fake smile.

„Hello, can I help you with something?"

„Hi, this is my nephew – his parents… you know… and I can't take care of him, unfortunately. Can I register him here?"

Harry James Potter became the youngest sibling to Maria Bundy, who was two years older than him, and Fridrich Bundy, a boy three years his senior. Both children were blond with blue eyes, just like their mother Samatha Bundy-Tylor. Her husband was a tall broad man with brown hair and eyes – Gregor Bundy looked surprisingly a lot like his adopted son.

The perpetually fussy boy was renamed to Henry James Bundy – his new mother purposefully named all her children like some of the more known rulers in the history. Harry was kept as a nickname by his parents – they left only his second name ‚untouched', even though neither of their children had one.

For two years after that, Henry was the youngest in the Bundy family – then he wasn't and another blond became the part of his family. Little Elizabeth, and year and a half after that Ludvik was born. The dark-haired boy thought that meant Fridrich and Maria would stop annoying him because he wouldn't be the youngest kid. But no, his siblings were cruel creatures and always enjoyed rallying the choleric sibling. Before school, it was only name-calling here and amateur fight there, however, in primary school they found better ways to bully Henry. Only, they became less sneaky about it, because in school nobody paid as much notice.

So, Samantha noticed and yelled at them, forbid any after-school activities for a week and made them apologise. Did it work? No, but they never again hurt him enough to make bruises. Wet Willys, nuggies and stealing things were a lot funnier to them anyway. And Henry wasn't an angel – not by any means, although his pranks were unnoticeable (at first). Sometimes he put the itchy powder into their clothes, sour powder into their lunch sandwiches, pins on their chairs, super-glued their things to floor or furniture… and if he got physical, he would only whack their heads or throw something at them.

Elizabeth became part of the blond part of sibling war and Ludvik tried to join Henry – but after cruel tongue lashing, he became a neutral party.

Even though his temper never failed to combust like a lit gasoline canister, he wasn't a physical type of person – he hated sports (unlike his older siblings that were part of any sports team in the school). He was very smart, most called him a genius, because of how quickly he could pick anything up – from math to languages. And in no way would you miss that part of him, as he wasn't humble about it.

His grades were spotless but he always turned up his nose on history and geography. Loudly. On the other hand, he loved biology, physics, chemistry and math – not only had he won many science competitions, but he also went to camps so he could be surrounded by smart people and not his siblings (who were in his opinion only slightly smarter than monkeys).

The day he turned eleven years old his father had a vacation – usually he worked so his big family could live comfortably (and his income as a lawyer help with that marginally). However, he never left for work when one of his children celebrated a birthday, so when someone ringed the doorbell, he was the one who opened the door.

Minerva McGonagall always asked Albus to let her see Harry Potter if he's doing ok (she never trusted those horrible muggles). He always smiled and told her that Harry is well cared for by his family and left it there – so she was really surprised when in the pile of letters she found an unusual name, familiar but also not. Henry James Bundy-Potter. Obviously, he was adopted and magic changed his name and only left Potter because he was the heir…

„Albus! What were you thinking, when you never checked on him, you stupid old man!" Her Gaelic accent shined through her screaming. However, Dumbledore only smiled and offered her a lemon drop.

„The wards I set up fell after the New Year in '82, Minerva. I knew where he was – with a loving family like I always told you," he answered calmly, eyes shimmering madly. After she threw a few hexes on him, she planned a visit.

„Good morning, Mr Bundy – I came to offer your son Henry a place in our school," she said the beginning of her practised speech.

„Since when do schools send people?" he asked with a curiously lifted eyebrow, but let her come in. „Henry! Come to the living room!" he yelled and McGonagall jumped in surprise. Because of that, the tall men grinned at her. „Come with me, he should be there in five minutes."

„Should I make tea?" this time a female voice yelled. It reminded the old professor of the Weasley household – how many siblings does Harry have, if any?

„Mrs?"

„Yes please," she nodded and sat on a comfortable beige sofa with her back to the windows.

„So, which university are you trying to get him in?" Gregor fell on the opposite couch without much elegance.

„University, Mr Bundy? He must be really smart."

„He's a genius and I'm not bragging. So if not uni, what school are you trying to pitch?"

„Hogwarts, it's a boarding school."

„I never heard of it."

„Most people don't, because it's a school of witchcraft and wizardry." No emotion showed on his face before he blinked rapidly. „Well, it would explain some things… it always made him angry not to know why he could break the basic physics laws."

‚Well, at least someone is calm and logical after that particular bomb.' Then Mrs Bundy came with a tray filled with cups and a teapot.

„Do you want sugar or cream?" The pretty blond woman smiled at her.

„Neither, but thank you, Mrs Bundy."

„Oh! I forgot to- sorry professor – my name is Gregor Bundy, nice to meet you." He extended a hand and she shook it without hesitation.

„Minerva McGonagall, nice to meet you too. And you too, Mrs Bundy."

„Samatha is ok, professor."

After that, a young man with a blond mop of hair, followed by a girl around the same age, came into the living room with icing on his cheek. „Hengry is dragging himself down the stairs," he said before they sat next to the fireplace on a fluffy rug in front of it.

„SHUT UP YOU FUCKING LIAR!" Came an unexpected answer. The tendency to scream ‚Potter!' back was strong but she kept cool and waited for the parents. But they said nothing, only rolled their eyes. „I was awake, just needed to finish a chapter."

„In your porn magazine?" came a quick retaliation from his brother – before anyone could do anything, one of the cups went flying with murderous intent. Minerva quickly pulled out her wand and transfigured it into a soft pillow that hit the blond straight into the face.

„Cool. So, what do you want?" He sat next to her, his front rotated to her and one leg on the couch. When Minerva saw his face, she wanted to cry – he looked so much like Lily (and completely different from the books, that described him as a carbon copy of his father only with his mother's eyes). He had her round face, freckles most noticeable across the nose and funnily enough the sticky-outy ears that the red-head always tried to hide behind her hair. The only things he inherited from his father was his dark brown hair, bad eye-sight and the mostly brown eyes. And his height, because Lily was one of the shortest firsties in her year.

The only thing the stories got right was his barely visible scar, hidden behind wispy bangs – it has been a long time since she knew someone with a bowl-cut, but he suited it for some reason.

„I came as a representative for Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry," she said, ignoring his rude behaviour that was obviously more than normal, judging by his parents' reaction. When he only squinted, she gave him the letter that he ripped open and quickly skimmed with hazel eyes.

His father broke the silence: „Read it aloud, buddy."

„Sure dad. So: HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY. Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards). Dear Mr Bundy-Potter - That's my bio parents name, right?"

„Yes, Mr Bundy. Magic accepted your adoption but because you are the future Lord Potter, it's only appropriate to have the name Potter."

„Sure… We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Are you McGonagall?"

„Yes."

„ UNIFORM: First-year students will require: three sets of plain work robes (black), one plain pointed hat (black) for day wear, one pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar), one winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings). Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags. COURSE BOOKS: All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble. So that spell you did was a transfiguration, right?"

„Yes, I will be your Transfiguration professor as long as you take my subject."

„And the potions are like chemistry? Is history mandatory? Are there any other books for beginners?"

„Yes, yes and yes. You need to attend all classes until the fifth year, after which you choose subjects you want to specialize in. In the fifth year, you take a test named O.W.L., Ordinary Wizarding Level, which helps you to know in which subject you are really good and N.E.W.T, Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test, helps you to get a job. Do you need further explanation?"

„No, I get it. So I can quit history in fifteen… sweet. OTHER EQUIPMENT: 1 wand, 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2), 1 set glass or crystal phials, 1 telescope, 1 set brass scales. Students may also bring if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad. PARENTS ARE REMINDED-"

„Stop screaming!" his sister hissed at him.

„It's in capslock, idiot," he grinned widely and did some muggle rude gesture that his mother reprimanded.

„Parents are reminded that first-years are not allowed their own broomsticks! Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus, Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions. Do you fly on them, like witches in movies?"

„Yes, the myth needed to come from somewhere."

„Do you use it like cars or motorcycles?"

„More like bikes."

„Okay. So, where can I find the school supplies?"

„In Diagon Alley, that is the main magic alley in London."

„And how about money? Do you use normal pounds, or dollars, or –"

„We use Galleons, Sickles and Knuts," she pulled out few shiny metals from her robes. „The golden ones are called Galleons, silver ones are Sickles and bronze Knuts. There is 17 Sickles in a Galleon, 29 Knuts in a Sickle and consequently 493 Knuts in Galleon."

„How much is one Galleon in pounds?"

„4.93 pounds. £ 0.29 is one Sickle and £0.01 is one Knut. But no need to worry about money, your biological parents left you with enough money to pay for your tuition."

„No, we will pay for everything," said Mr Bundy calmly, but at the same time bossily. „His inheritance can be his pocket money, but we will take care of our child."

„I have no problem with that, Mr Bundy. So, when do you want to go to-"

„MOM, FRIDRICH SPIT INTO THE CAKE!" After that, there was a lot of angry screaming, and Minerva just thought that she was glad Henry was the only wizard in his family – because second Weasly-like family in her school could take the old caste down.

They went to Diagon Alley the same day she met them. After they exchanged muggle money for a small mountain of golden coins (and surprised Minerva with how nice they treated Goblins), the shopping began.

First, they bought a good trunk with separate compartments for books, potions, clothes and miscellaneous. Then they speed-runed the clothes buying and took a surprisingly long time in the apothecary, where the boy grilled the shop assistant for information about books and ingredients. Then they bought scales, cauldron and such, he made no fuss over that – but the parchment and quills…

„I'm not from the fucking medieval times, McGonagall. I'm a person of the modern age and I'm going to use a normal fucking pen! And parchment is stupid, a normal paper is so much cheaper and convenient!"

„I don't make the rules, Mr Bundy. Just… take a bit of parchment for the homework and maybe write everything else on muggle paper." He looked at her with sharp critical eyes, before he relaxed a little.

„If anybody tells me to use a quill, I will gauge their eyes with it." Minerva only rolled her eyes, but Henry was serious. The only thing about this that made him kind of happy was how bendable was her will. Like she didn't want to anger him, which was bullshit – everybody wanted to make the teen bomb to go boom, in his experience.

Then he tried to wander into a dark alley.

„Mr Bundy, don't go in there – Knockturn Alley is a dangerous place for a child." He looked at her and tried to walk past her. „Did you hear what I said?!"

„Yes, I heard that that cool looking alley is interesting."

„No, I said dangerous."

„I still hear interesting!" He sang with a wide grin and tried to get around her, but his father finally saved the poor teacher and stopped him by the back of his t-shirt.

„C'mon buddy, don't give your professor a heart attack – or get into problems before the school even starts."

„… does that mean we will go next time?" His grin grew in size and Minerva could see the devious spark that he inherited from his biological father – James always grinned before and after a good prank.

„Hey, is this bookshop?" his father pointed the boys' attention in a different direction – and in that direction, he ran. And left there too much money – Minerva expected the child of two Gryffindors to be a Ravenclaw because nobody loves books as much as Ravens.

Train and Sorting

Chapter Summary

WARNING: The dialogue from the sorting part of the chapter is stolen from the original book.

I read through all my class books in less than a week – since I was five I could read more than one book per day if it's not as big as some of the genetics books out there. After a second proofread I asked nicely for another trip to Diagon Alley (and Knockturn Alley, but that one was ruined by my mother after she made me describe why I want to go there so much).

We went to the secondhand book shop where I bought (with my so-called heritage) all the books that the shop assistant recalled as a study material when they were attending Hogwarts. And then some, especially the potion, herbology and transfiguration books. And the others… well, for example, charms sounded like boring housework shit, astrology could go and fuck itself in its stary ass and don't even let me start talking about the boring books about history! I almost fell asleep, because the book sounded like the most boring teacher in the whole fucking world.

Then I bought two potion kits for students and wanted to go home, but dad took me to the local ice-cream shop. Thankfully there was a chocolate flavour in the array of disgusting things like coffee (which was the one dad picked), caramel, cotton candy, vanilla and weirder ones like butterbeer or cucumber. Next time I might try some of the tea flavours, but I worry they will be too sweet for my tastes.

That wasn't our last trip to the magical alley, because I went through my potion supplies quickly – and through few of my cauldrons even quicker. I got the hang of it after a few failed potions that ate through my rug like the best corrosive! After the first explosion I knew I loved potions more than chemistry because it's difficult to get my young hands on the fun substances – but not in the world of magic, where eleven years old boy can cook a highly potent poison with his school kit.

Mother wasn't happy with the damage caused by the potions I brew but I made a healing cream for my burns so that made her slightly happier (but I still need to invest in something that would protect the floor in my bedroom).

On the 1st of September, my whole family packed itself into our huge car with seats for seven people plus driver. I sat next to my mother that drove the car. My older siblings sat behind us with Elizabeth between them, dad and Ludvik got the seats in the back. Normally dad would sit next to mother but I called shotgun and substantiated it for reasons such as: „I will be gone for many months so you can sit there as often as you cant then" or „It's one of the more dangerous seats and you are the money-maker in this family" and I got an eye-roll when I ended it with: „And this is MY trip!"

We parked near King's Cross Station and took too long to prepare for this short trip. Mom forced me to hold her hand and dad took my suitcase in the hand that wasn't gripping my shoulder. Ludvik gripped the edge of my hoodie, Marie started to uncharacteristically chat with me without degrading my person, Elizabeth held my mother's hand and Fridrich was silently walking behind me – I controlled him often so I wouldn't fall if he stepped on my heels.

We stopped in front of a column with the numbers nine and ten – McGonagall told us about how to get to the wizarding side of the train station. We agreed that our group was a little too big so we will part our way on the muggle side of it. I kept my hands on my sides when my mother tried to break my ribs in a painful hug that stole my breath. „I'm going to miss you, Harry," she sniffed and I paled – is that woman crying? I really wish I had my suitcase in hand so I could run away.

„Calm the fuck down, I will arrive at Christmas!"

„Doesn't mean I won't miss you - my baby boy –"

„Mother, go to hell."

„Love you too!" She let me go but then another pair of arms tried to kill me – surprisingly it was Marie.

„What the fu-" and there goes my breath. I swear on my brain I could see black spots before she let me go.

„Take care of yourself, Harriet."

„Go die in a ditch, Marie." She smiled brightly like I just told her I didn't give her a secret parting gift that is hidden in her room. Ludvik hugged me too, but his height meant I only wanted to deposit my breakfast on his head (better than asphyxiation in my opinion). Elizabeth ignored me, like usual, and Fridrich noded when I watched him with fear in my mind – if he hugged me, the world would rip in half and I would never learn how to transfigurate him into a chimpanzee.

Dad only messed up my hair, because he's the only one that cares about my dislike of hugs and mushy feelings. „Write to us after the first two weeks – Mrs McGonagall said you can use the school owls."

„Sure dad. Don't forget where I hid your birthday present – and no cheating, old man!"

„You little-" he ruffled my hair harder with a short laugh. Mother hugged me again and gave me a sloppy kiss into my hair-

„You dirty- I showered yesterday! Go drool on somebody else!" And after that, they said their good-bye's and went away. I turned on my heel in the other direction and with quick steps, I went through the magic barrier.

Platform 9 was as magical as Diagon Alley – people in horrible fashion decisions helped their spawn with their trunks (do they not know about the feather-light spell?), some were doing the same sappy shit that my family did on the other side of the barrier. I looked around for an opening in the crowd so I could board the train without a bunch of children in my personal space. I tried one entrance but some girl got there faster. I went further, where the crowd wasn't as dense and finally found what I was looking for.

With a little effort, I got inside and occupied the first vacant compartment that I could find. After pulling out a book I sat down next to my suitcase (I put it next to me because it should make anybody aware of the fact that I don't want them to annoy me with their presence) and stretched my legs. After half an hour flew by, the train started to move with huffing sound – I saw few kids in the hall through the glass windows decorating the door. Thankfully none tried to get into my compartment and not many kids even went here as it was in the furthest wagon from the locomotive.

After two hours I finished the N.E.W.T. level potion book and felt the itch to try to brew one of the potions in it. But in the slightly rattling vehicle even I wouldn't risk it. I exchanged my hoodie for the school robe and started to read an Encyclopedia of Magical Plants – most of them are used in potions so I deemed it as useful knowledge.

„Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one," a girl with bushy hair suddenly opened the door and I unintentionally jumped in my seat. „Oh, what are you reading?"

„I haven't seen any amphibian – and my book is called Encyclopedia of Magical Plants."

„Is it good? I mainly got books about the world of magic, the traditions and history, because I knew nothing about magic. Are you muggle-born or are your parents wizards?"

„It's good if you want to know as much about plants and how to use them in potions as you can. And my parents are muggles." I felt no need to describe to this girl my complicated family so I went with the easiest route.

„I'm muggle-born too! Do you like potions? I really like the charms, but potions and transfigurations seem really cool." She sat across me but I wasn't as angry as I would be if she was one of those stupid people. She seemed like a curious, smart person – and I prefer people who are like that.

„I brew potions since I got my fist-year book. It's the best of all classes we are going to take in my opinion, but I also hold interest in Transfiguration. It seems impossible to bend laws of physics so much that you can make an inorganic material organic and the other way around. I read ahead in the class material and the process of turning humans into animals fascinates me to no end. What do you like about charms? It looks like housework magic hidden behind a few fun spells."

„They kind of are, but I bought a book about charms usable in everyday lives and they seem very practical – like Reparo for repairing broken things, Scourgify to clean any mess, Alohomora to open locks and many more! And there are even healing charms."

„Hmmm… maybe it's better than I presumed. Can you lend me this book?"

„If you land me this one after you're done with it," she gave me a big smile that I accepted but didn't mirror her expression.

„Deal. Shouldn't you look for the frog?"

„Oh!" she went red in a second. „Glad to meet you!" She ran out of the compartment and slammed the door behind her. Again, I dived into the depths of my book, before I was interrupted again – this time by identical twins with hair so ginger my eyes kind of hurt.

„Hey, did you see our brother?" asked one of them.

„Ginger, blue eyes," added the other. Is it just my luck or do all wizards lose stuff all the time?

„No, I did not. Try to look for a ginger boy with blue eyes, he might know."

„Oh, little firsty,"

„-but we are looking for our younger brother,"

„-why would Percy know where Ron is?"

„How many fucking siblings do you have?" I couldn't resist that question.

„Five!"

„Well fuck," I let my book to fall into my lap. „That sounds like a fucking hell."

„Language!"

„How many do you have?" asked the one on the left.

„Four and I would die if I had more." Their grin only grew and put their hands almost under my nose.

„Fred Weasley."

„George Weasley."

„Henry Bundy," I shook both of them at the same time and quickly stopped the physical contact.

„Are they wizards too?"

„No, they are normal. Thankfully, at least I have time without them." They laughed – obviously they are not as lucky. „In which house are you?" I asked because students might tell me a different definition of the houses. „I read about them but I always need more sources to make a final decision."

„In Griffindor. House of the brave and stupid, if you ask me," said the twin on the left, Fred.

„Brash and loud," nodded George enthusiastically, „but it's the best house if you are a prankster because nobody will rat you out or go through your stuff."

„And the dorm is in a tower, so the view is top-notch."

„And how about the other houses?" I asked, already aware that I would hate to be part of the Griffindor house.

„Hufflepuff is for the friendly folk."

„Too nice for their own good, but the best gamblers in the school." Smirked Fred.

„Also they know how to take a joke."

„Slytherins are the outcasts but they are usually the best in classes."

„After Ravens. They are also assholes and too moody for their own good."

„Ravenclaws are a bunch of jerks too, but little less…"

„Combustible. Sticklers for rules and usually no fun." Ended George. „Happy with our lecture, Henriekins?"

„Decently, dickhead," I kicked his shin hard enough to make him fall on his twin's shoulder.

„Which is the most similar to you?" asked the one without pain in his face.

„Slytherin or Ravenclaw I guess. After all, I am a bookworm AND an asshole." That made them snicker.

„Do you like pranking?" asked George after he caught a lung-full of breath.

„Kind of – but I never pranked someone with magic. Are there special spells or potions?"

„Both-" they said in unison.

„Let us-"

„-teach you-"

„-our young apprentice,"

„-the art of pranking." finished George with a sage-like tone. I rolled my eyes and almost laughed at their theatrical acting.

Thankfully for them, I love learning – and we have another three hours worth of a railroad ahead of us.

(Somewhere in Scottland a bunch of teachers got a bad feeling.)

I almost fell multiple times before we got our asses into the wooden boats. Hermione found me in the crowd and dragged a boy (later introducing himself as Neville Longbottom) into the boat with us. I quickly stroke a conversation with him about my book because Hermione obviously mentioned it to him. He was annoyingly shy but his knowledge made him a good source of practical herbology. Because of that, I let them make a study group – although they were kind of scared we won't be in the same house?

„Who fucking cares – we are here to study, not to make friends," I told them honestly.

„Where do you think you will end up, Henry?" Neville asked.

„Ravenclaw or Slytherin – I love knowledge and smart people, but I'm also ambitious and an asshole most of the time," I shrugged and looked at the shining castle with interest. How the fuck am I supposed to not get lost in such a big building? I hope they will give us a map.

„I want to be a Gryffindor, like Albus Dumbledore, but Ravenclaw sounds cool too." She seems like a Raven but I know her for not even an hour, so maybe she is brash or brave or loud – just not stupid.

„My grandmother wants me to be a Griffindor but I think I will be a Hufflepuff."

„Not a bad one." He looked at me weird but I ignored that and started to raise because we arrived in a harbour located at the end of a dark tunnel.

„Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Neville sprung up and grabbed an amphibian that he obviously named Trevor (him yelling „TREVOR!" helped me with that deduction).

After we went up a wide staircase, a big door on the top of them flew open. I could see McGonagall that looked at us sternly. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the big man.

„Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." We followed her into a small chamber and everyone invaded my personal space – after few jabs in the rib-height I got what I deserve – a nice space to move my arms and breathe. „Welcome to Hogwarts," said the old professor. „The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts."

Does that mean they will try to kill me with affection or literally kill me?

„You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points."

They will hate me for sure – if professors of magic are as strick about my favourite word as the muggle ones.

„At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

Like I care about how I look – but Neville and Hermione started to fuss around. Are they… nervous? I would be if I believed that ginger who must be twin's brother – fighting a troll? From what I read that is a challenge even for a fully-fledged wizard. Fred and George must have told him that shit… which was the only reason why I haven't ripped him a new one with my words. Hermione was smarter about her predictions – she awaited a test, judging by her muttering of spells taught in the first year.

„Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —" What. The. FUCK? No book said anything about ghosts! From what are they made? Are they tangible? Can you feel when they go through you? Why are they here and not anywhere else where I have been in the past?

„My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?" Only then he noticed the kind of big group of eleven years old children? Is he really that blind or are they playing it?

Nobody answered.

„New students!" said the fat ghost (can ghosts eat?), smiling. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

„Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the fat ghost. „My old House, you know."

„Move along now," said a sharp voice. „The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. The ghosts flew through the wall – I suppose that means they could walk through humans. Hmmm… I need to find a willing subject to do a few experiments.

„Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told us sternly, „and follow me." She led us through a double door to the biggest hall I ever saw. The ceiling looked like a starry night sky – „It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione told me quietly. We were in the middle of the student-part of the hall, two tables on our right and the other two on the left. It wasn't hard to guess which house sits at which table.

McGonagall placed in front of our group a four-legged stool and put an old hat on it. Everybody looked at it expectantly, but I had no idea what to expect.

„Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,"

WHAT THE- well, this is the magical world, so I should have expected something as bizarre as a singing hat, but I simply didn't.

„But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,"

That sound not only creepy but also like a bad idea.

„So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be."

Not surprising by this point, but the slower dumbasses caught that tidbit of information only now.

„You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)"

Hah. Ha, ha.

„For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The older students started to clap for some reason and the hat bowed like an old-time gentleman.

„So we've just got to try on the hat!" Wow, twins said he was kind of slow but that was like few minutes too slow.

The first girl called went into Hufflepuff. Then another new Badger, one Raven named Boot and it was my turn to shine. „Bundy, Henry!" Glad she only called out the short version of my name – I read about my so-called fame and few days after that I wanted to cut all my ties to the wizarding folk… Do people really believe a year old baby could kill someone? I believe my biological mother must have killed him and died at the end of their fight, but tell that to stupid cretins.

„Oh, hello Mr Bundy-Potter." I kept quiet, but my mind shoved him the middle finger. It surprised me when he started to laugh. „Not the best way to treat someone who can put you into Griffindor, young Henry."

„Try that and I promise I will make you into a slime."

„Duly noted. So, where will I put you? Hm… you deducted your potential houses correctly – you have no friendly bone in your body, even though you are hard-working. You would kill Griffins in the first week of school… and because how the House of Slytherin is nowadays, they wound end up similarly. So you better be… RAVENCLAW!"

Fuck Timetables

The world hates me, the person who wrote this timetable hates me even more – but I hate them even more. History so early in the morning?

„Who the fuck made this fucking crap?" I asked Flitwick, the shortest teacher that ever taught me. I asked the prefect, Robert Hilliard, if he's a goblin or at least a partial one but he told me not to be rude.

„Language Mr Bundy! Five points from Ravenclaw!"

„I. Don't. Care. Who the fuck made this abomination? Give me anything in the morning – just not fucking history!"

„Your timetable is like this because this was the only time left open for all fist years. And you earned yourself detention for your language, Mr Bundy." He seemed like a nice guy yesterday when he told us some rules like when is the time that we need to be in our bed when the breakfast is served and things like that. Now I want to bash his head into the corner of the table or poke his eyes out with a fork that is in my hand.

„As you wish," I shrugged, unbothered by this common punishment that many tried. „When and where? And do you have a map, so I can find it?"

„Your last lesson is Charms so you will stay behind." His black eyes are sharp and before he went and gave the horrible timetable to anyone else, he told me this: „Try not to lose too many points, Mr Bundy."

„Go fuck yourself," I rolled my eyes and wasn't bothered by another ten points taken from my House. „Asshole."

„You shouldn't talk to people like that-

„-especially teachers-"

„-or duelling masters." Suddenly I had ginger on each of my sides – I grinned at them when I felt a circular thing being pushed into my pocket. „They might turn you green and purple,"

„-if you anger them." I have no idea who is who. But I'm determined to learn how to differentiate them – they are smart. Not as much as me, but they are creative in the best cruel way possible. On the train we talked without stopping – George is better than his twin with spells and Fred with potions. That is the only big difference I found. For now.

„True, my comrades. Can you show me where is the history classroom before the class starts? For some reason, there is no map for this goddam school." They exchanged a type of look I saw before but I never found out what it is supposed to mean.

„We will help you – and maybe, if you're a good baby prankster, we can draw you a map. Deal?"

„Sure. But now – let me have my breakfast, or I will kill the history teacher." They started to laugh like a pair of hyenas – why the fuck are they laughing?

Then I found out. A FUCKING BORING GHIST TEACHES A FUCKING BORING CLASS?! But at that moment I was blissfully unaware and only bitched about the fact that I have the classes I was excited the most for later in the week. How I loved that ignorance- or maybe it was the sausage with eggs and two mugs of Earl Gray? All in all, after five minutes of listening to the ghost I pulled out Encyclopedia of Magical Plants and finished it before the end of the class. Hermione caught up with me after class, Neville close behind her.

„Here," I offered her the book.

„You can't do that in a class, Henry! You were very rude – next time I'm going to sit next to you," she furrowed her brows but took my book with a quick thank's. I only rolled me eyes.

„Hey Neville, we have Herbology together, wanna pair up before the class? My roommates are a bunch of dickheads."

He turned red but nodded. His siblings in yellow accented robes followed us like a pack of fucking dogs – do I really look like I know where I'm going? Because I'm in front of this group and twins only showed me the direction.

„You need to learn history," she traded me her charms book, „especially for our tests in the fifth year!"

„Don't worry, I will learn it when I need to – eidetic memory is a big plus in the scholarly life after all. So no worry, my one-term paper will be the best in our year." She looked shocked, like any person I told this to. For some reason telling this to people always shocks them.

„What is an epidemic memory?" Neville asked.

„Perfect memory – I can recollect everything I ever saw, smelled, heard, touched or tasted. Not the best thing when your brother likes farting in your face but besides that, it's fucking great."

„That's neat!"

That's a better reaction than: ‚One would think you would know more words thank fuck.' I quite liked that classmate.

Professor Sprout was a decent teacher – she liked that I could answer any of her more ‚difficult' questions (it could be almost called murder of questions) after I paid her no attention and rather tried to get the small Devil's Snare to react. It was too young to cause any damage (besides some small bruises) but she wasn't happy with me even when I told her so in my slow voice (meant for stupid and the slow). The first question was basic: „If Devil's Snare catches you, what would you do?"

„I would either use fire or strong Lumos because it hates light and warmth – that's why you can usually find it in damp and dark places. They were for a time a pest in basements, but now there are only a few plants in the wild."

„Where would you look for Rosies?" Is cheating asking a first-year question found in second-year materials? Not like I care, just asking.

„As their name suggests, they are in the flowerbeds where roses are growing – they are not pests, which is a common misconception, they are imposters."

„And what do they do?"

„They produce pollen that is poisonous for small animals and children – it stays in the lungs and makes them cough out blood – but for a grown male it's almost like pepper, it makes them sneeze. It is how they are spread – by coughing or sneezing infected humans. They are valuable ingredients in poison making, because of how well they damage the respiratory system. However, they are also used in medicine for a cough – to get rid of the phlegm quicker."

„What about aconite?" Third-year? Really?

„Also known as Moonshank and Wolfsbane. Poisonous in most ways besides when the root of the plant is used in potions for calming down werewolves or in Wideye. Leaves are used in poisons that attack the digestive system. And… it's a blueish-purple flower that usually grows in deep forests but it is common for potion masters to have a pot or two in the dark corner of a laboratory if they brew Wolfsbane potions often enough." I can't decide if she's angry or happy…

„Gillyweed."

„It grows in saltwater, is grey-green in colour and looks a little like rodent tails. If a human eats it, they can breathe underwater and they grow membranes between the fingers. It can also be used in potions that do a similar task or if you want to make someone into a fish."

„Nifflers fancy."

„Well… its a very rare plant and its leaves look like copper – named after Niffler which is a creature that loves anything shiny. It used to be a primitive wizard currency and it's very useful in potions – it's part of the Blood-Replenishing potion, because how much iron it has in it. Don't you want to give met he N.E.W.T. test now? My throat is getting scratchy," I forced a smile on my sour face. She went red.

„Thirty points to Ravenclaw, for your immense knowledge Mr Bundy." After that she let me do anything I wanted while she lectured the rest of the class. How fast can I lose these points? After all, I still have enough time through lunch and in charms!

I sat next to Hermione and twins were across us in a heartbeat. Neville hesitated before he too sat at the table of the house Griffindor. „So, how did you enjoy defence, Hermione?"

„Professor Quirrell smells like garlic and stutters in every word, but when you listen to him he's really good and he knows what he's doing… I think he's a decent teacher."

„Everyone is better than fucking Binns," I put a grilled chicken on my plate, added potatoes and some vegetables for the necessary vitamins. I wished I could find gravy – and it appeared in front of me in a little bowl. I blinked rapidly, before humming my thanks. A mug with smoking hot tea appeared next to it and it smelled divine. Well, maybe I can get used to thanking for my meal!

„How did you do that?" Neville asked with big eyes. I grinned like a Cheshire cat and sipped my piping hot tea in silence, that for some reason made him giggle.

„Sprout is very question-happy, in my opinion – but after I showed her that I don't need her theory lecture she let me do my thing. Next time I should bring a book, I only had my school books and I already know them word by word."

„Really?" asked… Fred?

„Yes. Are you George?" I asked for rapidly.

„Yes," he smiled, but not in the right way.

„Fuck, I thought I guessed right…" I bemoaned my inability to recognise them.

„But you guessed right?" Hermione raised one eyebrow.

„It doesn't matter which name I would say, I thought he was Fred and he recognised that I used the wrong name on purpose, but he really IS George, that's why he doesn't look like a cat that got the bird."

„You are such a weirdo," Neville grinned and started to eat almost quicker than me.

First charms lection was about the boring theory that was in the first chapter of our textbook. I rather read under my table the book Hermione lent to me – it was far more interesting, filled with charms I could in fact use even today because our first homework was assigned and dictating is faster than writing. I need to find a place for that, I don't want other people to use my words in their homework. I'm interested if anyone will try to steal it because many people in primary, secondary and high school tried it. Thankfully my handwriting is horrible enough that it was always obvious which paper is mine. It ruled out copying too.

„Go ahead, I have detention," I waved Hermione off. „Meet you at the diner." She wasn't happy with me, I could see that very clearly.

„Are we going to eat at the Hufflepuffs table?" Surprisingly she didn't mention how disappointed she was with my behaviour.

„Sure, If you don't mind. I care only about the food."

„Then bye – for now. Try to be nice."

„I don't have that in my fucking vocabulary!" I called after her and ignored Flitwick commenting on my language – again. He's getting boring. „So, what now professor?" I turned around to look at him and raised an eyebrow when he pulled out a box filled with cups and plates.

„I need to prepare for my second-year class, where they are going to learn Reparo. Do you know what it does?"

„Repairs stuff. So, are we going to break some shit?" Well, that sounds like fun! And for once it would be intentional!

„Language, Mr Bundy. Let's get to it. You have this box, smash them as you like and put the shards of one thing on each table." I wonder, is there a spell for it? My knowledge of Latin might help because most spells I read about are Latin. Some in other dead or old languages, which I don't speak (and some are just a mash of Latin and bullshit- like Wingardium Leviosa, a mix of Latin words like arduum and levis and English wing). But I can work with Latin… so I pulled out my wand that I wanted to break and put on fire even before I received it.

Ollivander worked with me for over an hour before he almost got a heart attack when my so-called ‚accidental magic' started to break more things than the horrible wands he tried to put into my hand. But thankfully, in the end, I ended up with a quite flexible fifteen-inches long walnut wand with the dragon heartstring core. I made him tell me what it means: walnut is for intelligent magic users, inventors or innovators. As long as the wielder is competent, it is versatile and adaptable, willing to fulfil the wielders desires. Dragon heartstring chose me because my mind is strong and focused – however, he told me to look for someone who would make me a costume wand when I'm a little older, because I don't fully suit that particular core. The worst fucking thing about this? There are no books about wand-making!

But that's not important right now, I need to smash. So I tried my theory and pointed the simple wand at one of the cups. „Ruptura," I imagined it falling into pieces with high pitched sound – and it happened, which made me unusually happy. I continued until the whole box was empty and every table had its shards. „Done."

„Good work. Where did you learn that spell, Mr Bundy?"

„I just tried my Latin knowledge," I shrugged and stretched out my arms, unused to the slight buzzing feeling in them. „Can I go now?"

„Twenty points to Ravenclaw for your ingenuity. But next time ask me for help – new spells have an unfortunate tendency to burst into all directions."

„Or maybe, magic iseasier than you think."

„Believe me, I have used it for far longer than you – I know how fickle it can be. You were just lucky. You are dismissed." Judging by how he acts he doesn't like me – so I exited without an intrigued question, which spells burst the most.

I wonder, when will the colour bomb set off?

The next day I got a headache in DADA and decided that I hate garlic. But then I enjoyed the rest of Tuesday, so I'm not that angry about it.

I loved Transfiguration. I again sat next to Neville and listened to McGonagall that showed us some incredible feats of magic, like changing her desk into a pig. What would happen if the animal ate something, then it pooped and only after that it would be turned into its original form? Or if someone ate it, would the table be incomplete and the person would get puncture wounds from the chunk of wood? Or would it turn into sawdust? I asked McGonagall but she didn't know the answer. How boring of her.

She gave us matches and tasked us to turn it into a needle. I tried it without a second thought and only the end got a little sharper. I furrowed my brows at that and started to think. In the more advanced books, there were some mentions about imagination and how visualization makes any spell easier. After all, it helped with my experiment in my detention, why wouldn't it help now?

So I tried it – the shape was easy after that, but changing the material into metal was a lot more difficult. The atoms and molecules are totally different in these materials, they have different properties – from how they hold warmth to their firmness. Is this difficult for me because of this mindset? Or maybe it's a good thing, like many times before? I tried to imagine how even the chemical structure changes, how it transforms itself into a man-made metal that cannot be easily broken and chanted the spell under my breath.

It worked – not fully because I forgot about the shape, but before the class ended I figured it out and could give the professor a fully functional metal needle with a point so sharp my finger bled. She gave me points, even though I said: „Choke on that fucking thing." I hated it after all that trouble.

Then there were flying lessons. „Why do we have almost all lessons with fucking Hufflepuffs?" I asked no one and everyone at the same time. A girl not from my House answered me (Hannah Abbot, my memory helped me): „Slytherin and Griffindor are rivals to death and putting them in one class is supposed to help them overcome that."

„But house points fuck that shit up," I guessed, this based on her sour look.

„Exactly. So we were left over with each other because of this practice."

„Well… better that Griffins – Hermione is smart but the rest is just asking for a good head crushing session. One of them just waved his wand and a book caught on fire. He did no spell, no incantation, nothing. I may like explosions and fire but that one was uncontrolled and unintentional!" I rambled about it for few minutes and after I got myself together, they were a snickering mess. „Shut the fuck up, dickheads." I still have no idea why they go with me to classes when I got them lost two times already.

Thankfully this time I found my way out of the castle and found the right training place.

„Well, what are you all waiting for?" the teacher with hawk-like eyes barked. „Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." So we did exactly that. Each one of them was obviously old and damaged – I looked at brooms in the Quidditch store and those brooms were polished and orderly, no twig out of place or scratch on the handle.

„Stick out your right hand over your broom," called the professor at the front, „and say UP!"

„UP!" everyone shouted, just like a group of a well-trained chimpanzee. Even after that kind of difficult Transfiguration class I still want to turn Fridrich into one… he would make a good Griffin. After the first wave of shouts I tried for the first time with a voice sharp and demanding – it jumped up without a hitch. They obviously can somehow feel if we are afraid because Neville is and his broom hadn't moved even an inch.

After few minutes everyone got it (I told Neville my thoughts about it and it helped him) and the teacher showed us how to mount the broom without sliding off it. It surprised me that my balls haven't tried to kill me, so there must be some spell that cushions the hard surface. I wondered how it works. Do professional brooms have something like a bike seat? Or special clothes with cushioning in the crotch like bike-pants?

„Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three —two —"

Before he could fuck up I caught Neville's broom by the front and a boy next to him pulled him off. „Mr Longbottom, you are supposed to kick off when I blow my whistle!"

„Maybe he is nervous?" I tried to be nice for a second before that weird tendency left me quicker than it found me. „You should have some fucking fail-safe on these horrible brooms, you hag!"

„DETENTION!"

Sometimes I really hate school. I might look into skipping few years and see how it works here…

The next day I fell asleep during astronomy lection because she started to tell stories about the stars and robes are just a big blanket you wear on you. I adore them as much as lab coats – however, those are cooler. Thankfully she hasn't noticed so my sleep was uninterrupted.

On Thursday I finally stepped into the potions class. I was the only happy person in our group made out of Hufflepuffs and myself. Other Ravens might have been happy before professor Snape glided into the front of the class, but I don't care. I really hate my roommates and their female counterparts. They are so boring – I thought that they would be happy to experiment as any smart person would be but after my experimental potion for bettering the eyesight burned off Terry's eyebrows they told me to brew elsewhere – and they are still angry with me because I tried to practise spells from Hermione's book. They called Prefect on me! It was only three in the morning! It's not my fault I slept enough in Astrology.

Severus Snape, the youngest potion master in Brittain that few of my not-class books mentioned. A man that is obviously good enough to teach me something. He started to do a roll call but paused on my name. He looked surprised and it didn't occur to me why in the first second. „Here!" I called before he had the time to say my full name. His eyes narrowed but said nothing and continued.

After he finished he looked up at the class with his black eyes. I heard he's a vampire – I doubt it but he does look dangerous.

„You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began in a soft voice. Thankfully I was in the first row so I had no problem with hearing him. „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-" Is he trying to insult me?" „-the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . 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." I like him. The rest of the class did too, they were so silent I could hear their breathing. Good thing nobody is eating, that could make me furious. „Bundy!" he startled me with his suddenly loud voice. „What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

„Draught of Living Dead if it worked out well, but this is also a good base for any potion that helps with insomnia or generally with problems with sleep. Some healers use it in anti-depressants because of how it calms down patients but that is only experimental."

„Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

„From your potion cabinet if it was urgent but gutting a goat is much more fun. I would look for it in the stomach to be precise and sometimes there are few little ones in the duodenum."

„What is the difference, Bundy, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" I know I look smart, but shouldn't they ask people who need to revise? So people who look like they are going to start to drool in their sheer stupidity? Like Zacharias Smith?

„Like I already told Professor Sprout – none. Also known as aconite. Poisonous in most ways besides when the root of the plant is used in potions for calming down werewolves or in Wideye. Leaves are used in poisons that attack the digestive system. And… it's a blueish-purple flower that usually grows in deep forests but it is common for potion masters to have a pot or two in the dark corner of a laboratory if they brew Wolfsbane potions often enough." Did I just say the same thing as last time? Yes, it was a good answer after all. He looked me in the eyes for a long moment before he barked: „Are you writing it down?!"

Then we started to brew a simple potion for curing boils. I started with practised speed and Neville only hindered my progression with his meagre tries. I tried to use him as a basic thing do-er, but he almost put not-so-finely crushed snake fangs into the cauldron. I stopped it in time and watched him like a hawk for the whole time the potion was simmering. Then he almost threw in porcupine quills before I had the time to take it off the fire.

„NEVILLE! Go to the other side of the classroom, or I will chop off your hands, you idiot!" I yelled at him, thankfully I caught the flying quills and put the potion aside as I intended. Is he trying to visit the nurse?

I could hear soft hiccuping from the now crying boy but I ignored him and continued with brewing.

„Mr Bundy, try to yell quieter next time." Snape got behind me so silently it spooked me when I could almost feel his breath on my neck but I kept my cool because any mistake could fuck this up. This part is the most dangerous. I added the quills, stirred it clockwise five times and then completed the potion with a wave of my wand. The potion was perfect as the pink colour of smoke suggested.

„Twenty points to Ravenclaw for a perfect potion. Leave it here, the school matron can always use a cure for boils. Now take that cry-baby out of my class."

„Sure. But if he leaves snot on my clothes you are the first person I will hunt down so you can teach me cleaning spell." I took my bag and grabbed the rounder boy by the shoulder. His weeping started to lessen but he had still that ugly cry-face.

This should teach him: Don't fuck with my work. Next time, I'm going to hog a workstation. From what I have seen, everybody besides me is shit at potions. How can they have potion few hues too dark or too light, a potion that is this simple? No wonder Snape calls the students he usually teaches dunderheads.

What an insult.

Danger sounds a lot like INTERESTING

It was the end of the first school week when the Hogwarts teachers met in the staff room. It was a tradition to talk about students – if any show signs of abuse if there are any prodigies, troublemakers and most often they just shared the freshest gossip over a glass of wine or tea.

„Did you have a nice week?" asked the headmaster cheerfully with a lemon drop clinking against his teeth.

„The new students are quite good and Weasley twins are suspiciously calm so you can choose how to interpret it," answered Minerva. It was a well-known secret that she spiced her tea with scotch.

„If you don't count young Henry," snorted Flitwick.

„I had no problem with him," she waved him off and sipped some more.

„Didn't you talk to that boy? His vocabulary is as crude as it can be and he is never sorry when I take house point from him or give him detention! Right now he holds the record in how fast one can get detention!"

„But he's brilliant!" said Pomona. „He could answer any question – I even tried how well he knew N.E.W.T. stuff and he had no problem with it! He's obviously bored in my lessons when I teach theory so I let him do as he wants. His practical needs a little work but he's still second only to Neville who is experienced beyond his years."

„How many times did you hear him say fuck?"

„At least twice every half an hour. But I don't want to make him sour to my subject so I let him be and only annoy him with my questions."

„His parents are ok with it – they told me that it helps him with his anger, it lets it out a little pressure without physical violence. When they tried to stop him his magic would break any glass in the room and it would cause harm to the people who angered him. They even talked with psychologist and he said that they should let him deal with it this way."

„But it's not propper!" Filius started to turn red in his face. „He's a brat, with no respect to authority!"

„Do I always sound like that?" Severus mussed and Albus smiled widely.

„And how do you like the young Henry, Severus?"

„He is arrogant and cruel, but I never had a better student – even though he has the blood of James Potter in his veins. He even obviously hates the name Potter, he stopped me before I could call it when I did roll call."

„His father wanted to keep his identity a secret, they wanted no public attention on him just because he is who he is. Of course, there is a possibility someone will find out but he won't sue us if it's someone else than staff."

„His father?"

„Yes, he's a muggle lawyer. But Severus, I must ask – I heard he made the young Longbottom cry?"

„Yes, the dunderhead almost messed up their potion and Bundy got angry after he prevented the explosion of a boiling potion. He made him cry – I wonder how he's not a Slytherin."

„He's very particular about people I noticed – he really only likes Hermione Granger when she's not telling him what is proper and Weasley twins, because they are smart – in their own way. He tolerates the Badgers but doesn't talk with them too much. And he is ok with Neville only because he's good in herbology," said Pomona. „And he seems too impulsive to truly master the Slytherin mask."

„H-he would call us creepy s-s-stalkers," mumbled Quirell quietly, but his eyes shone with a red light. Nobody heard him.

„Do you know what he wants to be in future?" asked Septima Vector, the arithmancy teacher.

„He wanted to be a muggle doctor before so I think he wants to become a healer - he's more than smart enough for it."

„With that temper?"

„I didn't get it either."

Instead of having detention with Hooch, the flying teacher, I ended up with Snape. Twins told me he usually makes students do chores like cleaning cauldrons or the floor, but I was given the task of brewing three cauldrons of pepper-up potion for the flu season. I worked in one of the stations and he graded homework. I could hear him angrily scratching with his simple black quill and wondered how horrible they must be. I found our homework laughably simple but Hufflepuffs had heaps and heaps of problems with it.

Hannah, Susan and Sally-Anne asked if I could help them and I did, kind of – I showed them where they can find the information and they even thanked me – unheard of. The rest of them tried on their own and Neville looked scared every time I talked about anything regarding potions. Twins tried to explain to me something about scaring him but I didn't get it – I saved him from an explosion (and his own dumbness in the process). The knowledge of this always makes me angry when I see him so I started to sneak my way from working in class with someone (and especially him). Teachers tried to make me behave differently but after a week they accepted it and let me do as I wished.

Twins took me in the third week under each arm and dragged me into a dusty classroom, eyes serious but faces cheery. „Wanna contribute-"

„-to a prank-"

„-little apprentice?"

„Sure. Do you have things for it? Plans?"

„We were thinking of something big,-"

„-spectacular. Like paint bombs falling from the ceiling of the Great Hall." I think this sentence was finished by George because he looks a little less sly than his ginger twin right now.

„What colours?" I grinned. They almost blinded me with their cheer and gave me each one ballon with paint sloshing in it. One was bright blue and the other one was yellow. And the bonus colour would be green after some mixing. „Nice. Tomorrow morning or later?"

„At diner is better because some don't go to breakfast. If you help us we can finish before the end of the day but we don't have a date preference, little raven."

„Let's do it tonight - I'm going to write a letter home and I want to tell them about something more interesting than how I made my roommates hate me."

„What did you do this time?"

„Experimenting?"

„Reading into the wee hours of the morning?"

„Screaming at a dunderhead?" That was Fred, the cheekier twin.

„I see you too appreciate this curse-word."

„It has its charm. Just like fuck, of course."

„Of course – fuck is the fucking best word. Dunderhead is the second." He messed up my hair after that so I forcefully stepped on his foot which made him whine. „Do I need to know a specific spell for this?"

Hello dad, mother and the hellspawn,

I hope the stupid owl gets the letter to you without a problem. I talked to twins about how stupid they are in comparison to flock birds and the three that sat near me scratched my hands and face. I healed it with a simple spell but I felt a need to go on a feather-full rampage.

I was sorted into a Ravenclaw, however, the House of wise and clever is not as smart as I anticipated. They are sticklers for rules and what is written in a book is like a law to them – what a fucking bullshit! They are against my experiments and copious questions, our head of house a man with a smaller brain than his size would imply (he's about the size of a goblin, I think he's partially one). He always tells me to stop cursing so I curse around him more out of spite. I thought even I could find a like-minded person in this house but I feel like even stupid Griffins are better than Ravens.

Some Hufflepuffs are friendly with me, mostly because I can help them with anything. I don't have too many classes with Slytherins and they are decent students so I know none. Surprisingly the only students I can withstand are three Gryffindors – Hermione Granger (she's the smartest in our year if you don't count me and she's even starting to think for herself after only two weeks of debates – I think she will join me in my experiments before the school year ends, if not sooner), Fred Weasley and George Weasley (they are monozygous twins, two years older than me – smart, but mainly creative in their pranking experiments).

Just yesterday we bombarded the Great Hall (where we eat and the sorting ceremony held place) with paint-filled balloons! It was special so if one tried to wash it off, it would change colour. I wasn't the one who thought of that, I only helped with the instalment and then just enjoyed not only watching people go batshit crazy but also being splattered in bright colours. There is a special body wash that got rid of the colour, but only the knowledgeable knew about that. Twins are suspected but because my wand was used for the enchantment they came out clean (in theory, because they were one of the most ‚couloured in'). If anybody suspects me, it means they read this letter.

I like all the classes I knew I would like and event the professors are decent. I like Severus Snape (the potions teacher), Pomona Sprout (herbology teacher) and McGonagall the most. Snape overtakes my detentions and ‚makes' me brew potions for the infirmary. Sprout lets me do what I want just because I'm smart and McGonagall is the most chill about my love for the word FUCK and also she enjoys my raw talent in Transfiguration. I would like charms but I would also like to skin Flitwick so I only appreciate the art as a self-taught practitioner.

It was only the end of the second week and I got my fifth detention – as I wrote Snape took over my detentions so I quite enjoy them and plan how to make Flitwick turn red in seconds. Shouting rude things usually works like a charm (get it?) but sometimes he's little oblivious and in those moments I do a little prank on him (twins teach me).

Ask if you're interested in something because I can't think of crap that would interest you.

Hate,

Hadrian

PS.: Can you send me my chemistry book for hight schools with the galaxy cover?

Four weeks into school Flitwick made Snape give him the privilege of getting my detention time. He said sorry and tried to be nice, but after half an hour he started to reprimand me for my language again so I stormed off. I thought he wanted to make me like him, that he would treat me like he treats other students – but obviously, he only tried to make me stop in a nicer way. Like it would work! I stormed off into the potion classroom and pulled out my brewing supplies. Snape looked at me with risen eyebrow but after one fiery look, he told me to make Skele-gro.

Flitwick never came and when I saw him the next day in class he ignored my existence – like his whole fucking House. The hat said I would go on a rampage in Slytherin and Gryffindor but I think I will end up as a criminal before my fourth year even as a Ravenclaw. I looked into my options regarding skipping few years and my hopes were crushed because I may take my O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s sooner than necessary but every wizard needs to finish at least five years of education.

After a few pranks with twins, I think I could pull one off on my own – I want to get my revenge on that dickhead. I prepared two nasty potions that can be used on clothing – hair-falling potion and rash potion that would cover him in a red rash and make him itchy. I stalked him for a little while and found out his personal chambers and listened with a magical hearing-aid spell for the password. I tried it without the contraband on me and as long as I knew the password the painting was happy to let me through. I also found which day was his nighttime corridor watching day and scheduler my prank on Wednesday.

So when the big clock-arm pointed at eleven in the Wednesday night, I was creeping through the halls with charms covering me from the top of my head to my heels. These were the fist spells twins taught me – smell and noise banishing and spell that made me not as noticeable.

I used the later one almost all the time because my roommates started trying to get rid of me. Or annoy me. Terry was the first - he blasted me with Aquamenti and tried to make it seem like an error – but my siblings trained me for this . „I was only practising – like you!" He said, tried to make me understand his obvious lie. „I want to be as good as you are!" My ego almost made me lose my anger, but I was stronger and ‚practised' on him my Stinging hex. Then my things started to go missing so I learned Accio and Locking spells of all colours and strengths.

I crept through the halls and even evaded Filch and his cat – I hid behind a suit of armour and Ms Noris couldn't sniff me out thanks to the spells. When I was close to Flitwicks chambers somebody grabbed my shoulder, I almost screamed out loud and heart attack didn't kill me only because of my age. If my bladder was full I would for sure piss myself. ‚Thankfully' for my detention-count, another hand silenced me. I could see a pale freckled hand and I instantly knew who grabbed me, so I bit him as hard as I could.

„Ouch!" George squeaked. How do I know it's George, you ask? His hands are not as scarred as Freds, they lack a big scar on the back of his hand. In their first year, Fred was stupid and stirred his potion in the wrong direction and only managed to save his face by covering it with his hands. Because they stole the ingredients from Snape they couldn't just go to the infirmary and get it healed. And in that time they didn't know how to heal it themselves – actually, they told me this was the reason they looked into healing and always have potions for the most common injuries. I would offer to make him scar-lightening cream, it's little too difficult for their prowess, but I think his scar is cool. I don't like the scar on my forehead, because it's a stupid shape, but other scars are cool (like the scar I have on my shin since the day I fell on a thankfully not-rusty nail).

And yes, I did ask them about it. I was just curious!

„What are you two doing here? And how did you find me?" I hissed at them.

„We told you not to prank a teacher, you could get expelled!" Fred hissed back.

„And a good prankster never tells his secret, little apprentice," added George, still rubbing his hand.

„Oh you fucking baby, do you need me to kiss your boo-boo?" I smirked at him, angry that I can't finish my revenge. Well, the potions won't go bad with my stasis spells on them so I can use them later. If they are this determined not to let me break that little motherfucker they will not let me run off.

„If you would be so kind-" he started with offering me his hand with visible teeth-marks when we heard the voice of an old man.

„Can you hear the naughty student, Ms Norris? I think this time I can persuade Dumbledore that my disciplinary punishments are the best option for these little bastards…"

„Oh fuck," I cursed and twins grabbed each one hand before they started to run with me almost flying behind them. They took me through a few hidden passages but Filch was still on our heels. And his cat was even closer – when we got almost stuck in one tight corridor I needed to kick her head as hard as I could to stop her scratching my literal heels. We ran into a random door and before they could drag me further I enchanted it shut as tightly as magically possible. Then I went further and opened a locked door where, if we're lucky, nobody would look for us.

„You're good for a beginner," Fred wheezed through his heavy breathing. One would expect more from an athlete.

„Of course I am, I'm Henry fucking Bundy. You know I'm good."

„Still surprises us," said George with a silent laugh, after which his eyes grew in size. „Fuck."

„You are saying it with too little anger," I turned around and looked into one pair of eyes out of three. „Are we on the third floor?" My mind figured quickly that my guess was correct.

„What will we do?" The big dog wasn't aggressive, however, our every move made it grow a little more irritated.

„Do you know some spell that produces music?"

„Why? And not really."

„Same here."

„Do you know anything? It's a fucking Cerberus! The guardian of Greek Underworld, the big three-headed dog that is lulled into sleep with any music?" I turned my head so I could see their stupid faces. „Nothing?"

„We never learned about him, never even heard about him. It might be a muggle thing to know about it."

„Well fuck."

„How do we get out?" asked one of them.

„Try if he lets us go away," I looked at him and almost jumped back when he grovelled when one of them moved. „Fuck."

„Maybe we can sing?"

„You would make him angrier with your hormone-filled voices. That funeral march slash school song almost broke my eardrums."

„Can you do better?" I could almost hear the raised eyebrow. I know I can, dad often tells me I have a decent voice when we rock out to older metal and rock bands. AC/DC, Iron Maiden, Helloween, Metallica and others – I have memorised most of their good albums. I like how angry-sounding screams can be made into an art piece. I also like rap music, but dad adores metal – and we are the only people in our family who do so, so we always enjoy it without my blond siblings.

It wasn't hard which song to pick – after all, I'm wearing Metallica shirt under my robes.

So close, no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say
And nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters

The Cerberus started to lay down, started to fall asleep. What a flattery.

Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
But I know

So close, no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
But I know

The dog started to snore so one twin opened the door and the rest of our group started to walk slowly backwards. I trickled into whistling the tune and closed the door – physically and with few strong spells that won't be as easy to break as the previous ones.

„That was fucking amazing," I started to laugh crazily, and after a moment, the twins joined me.

„That's a story – saved by a muggle song!"

„That will be written into legends!"

We started to laugh even more loudly and after a while, we needed to support each other to not fall to the cold stone ground.

„We need to look into why he's here," said twin I think is Fred.

„Fuck yeah."

„Fuck yeah, "I and the other twin said in tandem which made us laugh again.

After all, danger always sounds interesting.

Is there a monster in the school?

Even though I know my magical parents died on Halloween, it's still my favourite holiday (I don't like it as much as I like Helloween though). I like scaring kids and if lucky, even teens or adults. And mum saw it as the only time I could watch horror movies on our TV – which is a shame because the stupidity of the characters is better than in any comedy – in real life I would want to get to them before the killer, but I don't mind when I know they are only (hopefully) playing it.

And Hogwarts makes it even better – I might not like most candy but chocolate cake for a diner is a fantastic idea (maybe not for my mostly non-existent sleep schedule…). Nonetheless, it still had its fuck-ups. Like the fact that I was forced to sit with my shitty House – and without my usual company consisting of three Gryffindors (fake Gryffindors, each of them is as much Gryff as I am Hufflepuff). Not that Hermione is even here – the worst Weasley, Ronald Motherfucker Weasley made her cry (he called her annoying bookworm, bossy bitch and know-it-all – in my books all of these, apart from the annoying, were compliments, but his tone made it into an insult). She stopped me from breaking his bones with a nasty hex I learned from a book I stole from one of my roommates (if they can, I can too), although it only slowed down his punishment. I somehow calmed down her tears with my muttering of how I will torture him and then she excused herself because she wanted to calm down in solitude. Twins will for sure help me, they like Hermione. And their brother? Not so much, I heard the story about how they transfigured his teddy bear into a venomous spider.

So when Quirrel ran into the Great Hall and screamed about the troll before fainting, I was thinking about Hermione. I sneaked through the panicking students and grabbed George by the shoulder (his robe has a visible stitch on the shoulder because when he was helping Hermione with cutting spell for her homework she shot a little too far up): „I don't know your secret but you need to find where Hermione is."

Fred's eyes widened and pulled a paper out of his pocket. „I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said after pointing his wand on it. A drawing started to bloom on the aged parchment and when he opened it I could see what can be only described as a map filled with names. One spot was overfilled – I would guess that it is the Great Hall. We started to look for Hermione and before we drew attention to ourselves we found her. She was in a bathroom, near a hall that I recognised as the passage to dungeons.

„Fuck," we said in unison and after few clumsy steps and getting through the crowd we ran in that direction. I was lagging behind before one of them noticed and slowed down for me. Still, it was a crazy run without looking around so we almost ran into the beast. Thankfully the faster twin served as our stop sign when he stood still on the corner. „Shit, shit, shit, shit," he was whispering when the troll opened the bathroom door – a room where our only female friend was hiding.

„Fuck. What will we do?"

„Do you know any spell that works on trolls?" asked… Fred. Yes, he has a dark freckle under his left eye. „I know none, only the spells that don't work."

„I know a few darker spells from the book I stole, but I don't want to be expelled."

„As long as we get away quick enough we should be ok. And I know only a few prank-like spells that could work – like jelly fingers or leg-binding. Or conjunctivitis curse, it makes it harder to see."

„So you two try to distract it and I will grab Hermione. When I yell, you ran away."

„Sure." '

„Let's hope we survive."

„Nice optimism, Henry."

„Go fuck yourself."

George and I went first. He tried conjunctivitis curse and it didn't work. I saw Hermione, she was hiding under one of the sinks, scared into silence. That stupid troll (it makes sense that Troll is the worst grade in the magical community) was smashing porcelain few meters from her and hadn't even noticed our sneaky attack. Thankfully the leg-binding curse worked so when the beast tried to take a step towards her, he fell on the ground. I tried one of the strong fainting spells on him but he got only misty-eyed and tried to smash us with his wooden club. We jumped back and fell to the ground because of course, Fred chose that moment to run behind us. That broke Hermione's silence and she grabbed the trolls attention with her ear-piercing scream.

Then he broke the spell.

„Hey you motherfucker!" I screamed when he came close to her. He turned around and I fired piercing spell into his eye. His skin wouldn't budge under it but his eye exploded into gory mush. It roared but Hermione successfully ran into Fred's arms and he helped her to escape the girl's bathroom. I almost got hit with the club when I paid them more attention then to the smelly monster. I fired a slashing hex but it bounced off and broke a mirror. Better than me.

George hit its weapon with a blasting curse which made it explode into tiny splinters – some pierced human flesh, but we were so pumped with adrenalin it wasn't painful. We ran after the second part of our group but the troll was surprisingly fast and because I'm the slower one it grabbed the back of my robes and then turned me around. It breathed into my face and I almost puked, before it opened its mouth-

I fired overpowered blasting curse into its mouth. The sound was deafening, simply because I was like a foot from the epicentre of the explosion. I fell on the ground and my ankle started to hurl like a bitch but I stood up regardless and limped to the shocked trio. „Let's go, before teachers arrive," I gritted through my teeth in pain, vanished the blood and brain chunks on my body and before I could hurry them up George offered his back to me.

„So we can be quicker," he reasoned with me. The pain made me do it and in ten minutes of quick walking and occasional running, we arrived in Gryffindor dorms. Everybody looked at us, but one sharp look from the twins shut them up.

„You think there will be no repercussion that I'm not in my dorms?" I asked after George put me down on his bed. Hermione sat next to me and looked at me long enough that I figured out what she wants and offered her my hand. She smiled and grabbed it in a bone-breaking grip. „Ouch, woman. I have enough pain for one day."

„Sorry," she lessened her grip but started to fuss around with my hair – and started pulling pieces of troll skull out of it. „You are disgusting, Henry."

„It can't vanish solid things, because then it would be usable on bodies. And the brain is soft enough that it's counted as a vanish-able substance. Not that books wrote about it, I only hoped it would work on it. It's mostly used in potion-making so it vanishes the potion and not the vial."

„Can you heal your ankle?" asked Fred, George went into the public part of their dorm.

„It's not broken and it popped back into the socket so no spell can help me – I need to make a potion for dislocated joints."

„And that works how?" The bushy-haired girl asked.

„You either massage it into the skin or you make yourself a compress. I can make it in two hours but cold compress will work for now. However – George, come here, I will help you with those splinters."

Teachers found the crime scene only few minutes after it was left by the group of students. And the pure gore made them sick – the knowledge that it was probably a student who did that made it even worse.

Walls, floor and even the ceiling were covered in parts of the troll – blood, organs, bone and teeth. Most of its upper body was damaged but the head was obviously the entry point for the curse that killed him. Thankfully not Avada, which made them little more calm – but Snape recognised the darker version of Bombarda – normal one marked the bathroom they found in ruins.

Flitwick and Quirell went and started to repair the female toilets, broken mostly by the dead beast – but there was magic in the air. Those wooden splinters were the worst because they were everywhere and cleaning them up was a chore.

McGonagall, Dumbledore cleaned up the hall and Snape, as the only Dark Arts expert in the school looked at the corpse with his sharp gaze. After few spells he even knew what happened to the beast – its eye was pierced with piercing charm (dark grey, on the verge of being illegal), there were attempts to cut it and some splinters surprisingly pierced through the softer skin on its hands. Then the blasting curse hit it in its mouth – killing it instantly. So no major surprises – but who did it? Most teachers suspected some Slytherin that found the troll when coming to their dorms because the murder was never reported. Not that it would be punished – Dumbledore was more than happy to cleanse the stench of dark magic and he would even award points to the brave beast-slayer. Did it mean that person was ashamed that they used such means? Or worse – did they enjoy it and were secretive because they feared their nature would be revealed?

Was there a monster in the group of students?

Jordan Lee is twins' friend that doesn't really hang out with them when I do, so it was weird to see them talk with him so friendly. Their fourth roommate was called Kenneth Towler, a rather calm Lion.

Hermione was a little nervous around them and I hoped it would make her sleep in her own bed but she made her mind and I became a teddy bear against my will. I offered I would rather sleep on the ground or with one of the twins but they only laughed. I cursed them (not only with my words).

After we got out all the splinters we showered and I ended up with too-big sleeping pants and sweater with a big F in the middle of it. It was nice, soft and warm, the best type of sweater there is. I would sleep in my day-clothes but twins almost wrestled me into these (I would never tell them I was comfortable in their stuff). Hermione went to her room and came back in flannel two-piece pyjamas (I was never happier that someone didn't wear a nightie) and even brought me a bandage roll.

„Thanks," I put my swelled ankle on the bed and fixed it into place with firm tugs on the pristine white cloth. „I will give you one of mine tomorrow."

„No need, take it as a thank you," she went red and sat next to me. „Does it still hurt?"

„Not as bad as an hour ago, but it will be so much fucking worse tomorrow from my experience."

„The girl will sleep here too?" Lee asked, surprised when she started to close the curtains from his side.

„She's a little scared of the troll," reasoned George with a tight smile. „And Henry got lost in the crowd so that's why he's here." They exchanged long looks but after a while, the boy with afro backed down. If Hermione cut her hair sort, would she have an afro too?

„Hermione, do you have any fun book? I don't know if I have a sleep-night tonight."

„We read books too, you know?" said mockingly hurt Fred and jumped on his own bed that we occupied. „And you should go to sleep little raven, you had a long day. Sleep heals all wounds!"

„I'm not feeling like-" before I could finish that thought I broke into a yawn that made all people in the room roar in laughter. „You fucking bitches, shut up."

So I went to sleep before two in the morning that night – but I still stole twins' book about runes. It was easy – heavy on memorising which is my strong suit. I fell asleep on it and almost woke up when one of the gingers slipped it from under me. I vaguely remember trying to defend it but after he took it for good I fell into the depths of sleep soon after that.

Then I woke up there was warmth on my back, curtains drawn and silence behind them. It was easy to see I wasn't sleeping in my own bed – so much red almost burned my eyes out. Then I remembered yesterday and hissed when I moved my leg. Fuck my life and anyone that contributed to my existence. „Leech, stop your abuse of my personal space," I told Hermione and with well-aimed elbow jab I made her turn her back on me.

„Bad teddy," she mumbled and crushed a pillow in her death-hug. Wouldn't want to be that poor stuffed corpse.

After a much-needed piss, I washed my face, combed my hair with fingers and went on a hunt for my glasses. The book thief must have taken them down too and now I can't find them! So I opened their bed-curtains and shook them awake. „Hey dumbasses, where are my glasses? I can't see shit!"

„On the bedside table," he pointed on HIS table where after few misses I finally found my eye-sight. I put them on and finally was able to look them in the eyes with a stern gaze.

„You look like Minnie," yawned Fred from the other side of the bed. „Why are you up so early - it's Saturday."

„I'm an early riser."

„And you usually go to sleep super late."

„Correct."

„You're a fucking monster," George moaned into the pillow while his twin put on a robe.

„I will help you to get to your dorms for your things if you want."

„I will need some help with the potion, I'm afraid I won't be too swift when danger arises."

„I will happily help you, my master," he bowed mockingly but I took it with my most regal face.

„I always enjoy a cheap workforce."

An hour later we were in a vacant dusty classroom that we cleaned into perfection and with my supplies, we started the potion for damaged joints and swelling. I also prepared a cauldron for a painkiller potion.

„This is kind of nice – not brewing in the blasted room where we sleep," Fred said after he prepared the base of the potion. It was a proper pale blue colour and it had almost an hour of simmering in front of it. In another cauldron, I was making the second part that will be added after that long wait.

„Yeah, my experimentation was cut short when everybody in my dorm room learned how to vanish potions," I furrowed my brows in my never forgotten fury. He put water in the third dish and began to cut lavender (used in most potions for its calming properties – like calming or sleeping draughts). He put it in the water and started the fire under it – it was kind of like making a lavender tea.

„Think you could charm this room enough so nobody could get into it?"

„Sure, especially after some research into warding. Why?

„We could use it in future – like our personal laboratory." That kind of surprised me so I lifted my head and looked at him. I went through the pluses and minuses in a fraction of a second and then nodded. I found only few minuses – like the problems if we fucked up and nobody could find us or if somebody found us.

„I think we can even make it into our personal study room if we hunt down some furniture," I mussed and threw spider exoskeleton into the second part of the potion. „It would certainly be better than a crowded library, dorms or some random place we would change every time." I thought about it, but then I said: „Good idea." He deserved that one.

Christmas

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

After almost half a day of travel Hermione and I were finally only a few minutes away from the Kings Cross station. Twins and their siblings were left behind because their parents rather left to Romania to look at cool dragons – or at least that's what I gathered from their letter.

I quite enjoyed the ride, we started with playing few rounds of chess (not to brag but I won most of our matches) and then continued with a silent reading of our library books – I took interest in runes after stealing George's and Fred's textbook. But now I read much more complicated texts than them – as I thought, runes are really easy for me to learn as I don't need to learn pronunciation.

Oh, how I hated French in my muggle-school years… I learned Latin because it's useful (especially for someone who espiers to be a doctor), but French with its sadistic tongue breaking pronunciation almost truly broke me. Mother is good with languages and always was a bitch about me hating her most favourite one. To be honest, only Elizabeth is good with languages – the rest of my siblings and me despise them. Even my stupid older siblings are better in the sciency side of learning. Fridrich is decent in math and physics, Marie in chemistry and biology. Ludvik is smarter (not my level but better than the rest of our blond siblings), but still – he excels in science.

„Are you excited?"

„Why?" I asked, surprised she tore her hungry eyes from her history book. How can I speak with someone this weird?

„I missed my parents, but you also have your siblings! Siblings are like friends, aren't they?"

„You make it really obvious you are an only child, you happy soul."

„Come on, you get the best deliveries!" That is true, out of us four I get the best post – I usually ask for some books from my previous studies and lend them to twins – and sometimes they go out of Hogwarts to their father who is interested in muggle technology – which I only support, older people usually stop learning and that is even worse than being stupid. He sent me a letter with an invitation to their home, the Burrow, so we can geek out (not his words) together – he has a flying car. FUCKING. FLYING. CAR. It made ME happy, TWINS happy and their father was over the moon happy. And it made Ronald furious so that is a plus too. My mother also sends me sweets because she knows I sometimes forget to sleep and need an energy boost in the middle of the day.

Dad on the other hand sent me personal letters about the litigation about the merchandise and books written with my name or fake face on them. It angered him when we found the books and after we looked into less popular stores in the Diagon Alley we saw the worst advertisements – ‚Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived uses our shampoo and he said that: This is the only shampoo that makes my hair soft and good-smelling!' , ‚Our boots are boy-who-lived approved for their adventure prone design!' and more. McGonagall helped us by sending information about her friends that work in the magical law agency – Mrs and Mr Tonks. They helped dad with everything and in my last letter from him, I read about how well the investigation is going.

„I do, but the psychical distress still doesn't make it worth it. They are annoying, stupid and sadistic."

„Well, of course – they are your blood!" She laughed and I threw a book at her. She screamed but continued to laugh, trying to kick my shins.

„I'm not stupid!"

„Just annoying sadist," she snickered and managed to kick my jean-clad knee.

„I hate you."

„Love you too. What will you do during holidays?" she asked, her smile almost blinding. Her teeth are in perfect condition, as one would expect from a child of two dentists.

„Watch some TV, brew, maybe try to catch my parents putting presents under the tree… you know, the usual. How about you?"

„We are going to France, mainly to ski. What did you buy twins for Christmas? I ordered some less common potion ingredients for Fred and a book about animagus transformation for George."

„I bought them bigger school robes," I answered.

„What? Why?"

„They are already as tall as their older brothers were in their fifth year – so they will probably outgrow them. I charmed them to adapt to the wearer's body and to be almost indestructible. It will fade out in five years and then the robes will fall apart – however, when that time arrives, they will be out of school."

„That's really sweet of you Henry."

„Say that once more and I will shit in your present." She went green, then red and ended on pale.

„I take it back you disgusting being." It made me smile so widely my lips almost cracked.

Then the train stopped. We started to packed our things and waited for the crowds to leave the train before we came out and through the barrier. I quickly noticed my family – unusually big group even on the train station. Few steps from them were two adults, the man had a big mane of brown curls that made me sure he was Hermione's dad. They quickly noticed us and waved in unison.

„Mum, dad!" Hermione called out and left her trunk behind with me to run into a hug. Dad got a weird spark in his eyes and before my brain connected the dots my legs were dragging me away from his attempted big hug. I hid behind the Granger family.

„Stop it, you give them ideas," I hissed at her smiling faces and evaded Marie who also tried to assault me.

„Dad, mum, this is Henry Bundy. Henry, these are Dan and Jean Granger."

„Nice to meet you, Henry," the woman smiled at me.

„Sure- PUT ME DOWN YOU FUCKING OVERGROWN CHILD!" I screamed at my surprisingly sneaky father who picked me up by the waist and hugged me.

„Say you missed us."

„Missed you, asshole."

„I said us."

„Dad told me not to lie, bitch." Then he tried to break my ribs, so I saved my life with: „Missed you all," with my last breath.

„You must be Mr and Mrs Granger – my son wrote to me about your daughter."

„Oh, really?" smiled Dan widely. „Hermione also wrote about him." I exchanged a look with her – neither of us is stupid so we know what they suggesting. We rolled our eyes in unison which made me not notice the other hugging beasts.

„Henry! You're back!" Ludvik hugged me around my waist, Marie hung herself on back and mum pulled me to herself from the side. I tried to play dead.

„We missed our random curse word generator," she mumbled into my ear with damp breath. It made me get goosebumps so I stepped on her foot.

„My family is disgusting!" I bemoaned when she kissed my head – thankfully after that, I was released so I could try to rub the feeling of being hugged by hexapus (six-legged octopus) off. „I'm sorry for their actions – but you are no better," I added because Grangers were one arm hugging the poor girl from each side.

„You are truly hilarious, Henry," she rolled her eyes. Weird, she started to call me an asshole, when I do antisocial things, like a month ago. Oh, parents... I never realise that one.

„Nice holiday, Grangers."

„You too, Henry. Try to be in the holiday spirit."

„His Christmas spirit is green and hates the holiday," the oldest Bundy kid giggled.

„I'm not Grinch – my heart would never grow."

„Like you have one."

„Oh, and how would I live without it, idiot?"

„I meant the metaphorical one-"

„You know big words? What a good boy, Fridrich!"

„I will throttle you in your sleep, brat."

„Kids, leave the death threats for later – people are looking at us weird."

„No, they just saw his stupid face," I replied cheekily and almost got kicked in my crotch.

Oh, family... how I hate their stupid fucking faces...

We were watching Christmas movies into the night like always – I hogged the furthest chair and did my homework with one eye on the TV screen. I couldn't use my usual means of writing so I was scratching on the fucking parchment with vengeance. I didn't really care about making it legible (and my charms essay was so bad I couldn't even read it myself).

I finished the last one on the second day of my holiday, at 2:34 A.M. Fucking History.

Of course, the first day that I really paid attention to what's happening they put on Grinch. I remember I loved it as a child – all kid movies are so bright and cheerful (I never felt like I could live in those worlds) but Grinch was grumpy, nasty (and kind of similar to me, in a way – he was even resourceful in his own way). So yes, I was the only child that hated the good ending, only one hoping he would succeed and ruin Christmas for Whos. And then mother played it every Christmas and I grew bored of it. Now it leaves a sour taste in my mouth because of the knowledge that heart growth can bring only one result – death. By a heart-attack. A great future for a child's favourite character, isn't it? (Still, I would love to live on a mountain, with people nowhere near so I would have a solitary space for my experimenting habits.)

„Harry, you need to tell us more about your school year – your letters are quite dry," dad sat next to me at the diner table. In front of us was a big Christmas diner – stuffed turkey, mashed potatoes, rich gravy, steaming vegetables... my mouth was watering the whole day because I could smell it even through potion fumes. But I enjoyed the slightly toxic fumes because it meant I was safe from socialization. None of them wanted to be near the potential boom.

„I'm not an author, so no surprises there."

„Still, tell us about the Cerberus – you wrote about him last in November and I was interested in how you advanced."

„After we befriended him like I last wrote to you, we went down the trap door. There was a magnificent Devil's Snare - it's a special partially sentient plant that can kill you! But light hurts it so simple Lumos."

„A sentient plant?" Elizabeth choked out, coughing because her food went into a wrong windpipe. Fridrich helped her with back blows to clear her airway.

„Yeah, it can strangle a fully grown human. It grows in dark humid places."

„I will never visit our basement – I know you, you will try to plant it there."

„Mum already forbade me from doing that."

„You never listen to rules," Fridrich accused me.

„True, but we made a pact – no Devil's Snare and I can plant some potion ingredients in the back."

„That's true," she smiled. „What was there next?" They don't mind our adventure with Cerberus – and I never told them about the troll because then they wouldn't be as chill. Also, I kept the fact that the dog wasn't really friendly at the beginning and almost bit George's hand clean off close to my chest. There are many things I did that would give my parents a heart attack...

„There is a room filled with keys and one wooden door on the end of the oblong premise. It was protected enough that we couldn't break it or open it with spells so we needed to catch one of the keys. Fred caught it after, like, half an hour. Behind the doors, there was a giant chess game that I won't pretty easily with my usual strategy-"

„The ‚Only the king needs to live' strategy?"

„Exactly. It wasn't expecting I would do that. So after that, there was a room with a magical beast that we stunned." It was another troll but my paranoia (thankfully) made me access the forbidden part of the library (after almost dying) and we (me, twins and Hermione) learned the strongest stunner known to light wizards. It wouldn't work on something stronger and we tried to learn it for three weeks but it paid off. „Then there was a room with a riddle and a bunch of potions, which was laughably easy, especially when I sniffed them to make sure. So we went through a door of fire and there is the fuck up – there was only a room with nothing in it!" I couldn't help myself and impaled my turkey with a little too much strength.

„That's weird – why so many challenges when there is nothing on the end?" Mother asked with a furrowed brow.

„I have no fucking idea – it made me crazy with fury and twins were not better."

„Hermione wasn't there?" Dad asked with a wide smile.

„No, she told us it's stupid."

„Your girlfriend is a smart girl."

„She's not my girlfriend, dickhead. She might be a girl and my friend, but not a girlfriend."

„Of course she's not – even someone with rabbit teeth is above his level," Fridrich sneered and Marie added: „I still can't believe that Henrietta got friends."

„First – you know you will end as rabbit before the end of the next year, yes brother dearest? And why wouldn't I have friends? I'm a joy to be around," I said with venom laced sarcasm.

„I think you know very well why – after all they are your first friends beside people twice your age."

„Not my problem they are the first smart people around my age I ever met," I hissed and angrily ate another morsel of food. „It's better than having a group of friends that cannot count to ten."

„Sais a boy who couldn't even guess if someone is afraid or surprised." Now she's getting nasty. Mother tried to stop Marie from fighting with me but she's as much of an argumentative person as I am.

„It's difficult to read people!"

„Maybe for a psychopath-"

„Antisocial personality disorder, keep track of the current terminology if you want to accuse me of things, cunt."

„That's sociopath, you crazy rabbit murderer-"

„It wasss already dead, I only wanted to sssee-"

„Children! Not over a diner!" Dad tried to calm us down but plates were already shaking and her knuckles were white – there was only a little percent of the possibility that we would calm down.

„I kind of missed your disgusting mug but now I wish the train derailed and you died in it!"

„Marie! Go to your room young lady!" Mom yelled, obviously shocked. It's not too often that we start yelling like that but when we do she's usually the nastier one with her words.

„Go and get yourself killed by your stupid potion," she hissed at me before she left. The turkey exploded and I could only hiss at her like an angry snake. Oh, how do I adore my loving siblings and family dinners – and they wonder why I rather starve myself or take the food to my room.

I calmed myself through cursing for too long of a time – I fell behind in my managing rituals in school where I had fewer reasons to get so fired up. I haven't apologised because I couldn't really stop my magic from reacting – but I did help with the cleaning up. The mood was killed as nobody had a smile on their faces anymore.

I couldn't fall asleep even though I was a walking corpse with under-eye bags so purple and blue they looked like black-eyes. I was sketching a Quidditch player because my crazy sleep-deprived brain was remembering the last one I was forced to watch by Hermione and twins. I evaded the one where twins played because Hermione lacks their search engine but the second time I was held between two gingers and Hermione was threatening me to sit on my lap if I moved more than necessary. We cheered for Hufflepuff but they lost to my House which made me irritated – I slept in the slowly changing classroom that our group occupied because of how loud the Ravenclaws were.

Mostly I remembered how calm I was and it even made me sleep for almost an hour – when I woke up with a jerk, it was three in the morning. I figured out it was late enough to open the gifts that the stupid nocturnal bird brought to me yesterday, waking me up from my nap on my desk.

First I opened Hermione's gift – seeds for my planned garden. We talked a lot about it so it wasn't too surprising but my sleepy brain was unusually happy with such a simple gift. With it, she sent me french chocolate with salt in it. I tried it – it was weird but delicious. I must have made a sight to see – sitting on my damaged floor, eyes half-lidded in bliss and surrounded by four gifts – one of them opened of course. Am I even making sense?

Next, I opened a gift from Mr Weasley – he was grateful for the books I sent him and apologized he couldn't give me more but I was happy to receive my own Weasley sweater with H on the front. It was navy with light yellow contrasting wool and I pulled it over my head. It was as comfortable as the one I never gave back to Fred, only my size. Under it was a smaller box with homemade sweets that I tried but didn't like – I will give them to mum, her sweet-tooth will enjoy them.

A soft gift without a name of the giver on it was next – there was a note added to it: ‚This cloak was your fathers. He lent it to me before he died and now that you know about the magic world I thought you might enjoy it in your after-curfew walks through the halls. Have a nice Christmas.' Unsigned, written by hand as unskilled in calligraphy as mine. I tried it on – it was cool, a good robe for summer I guess. But then I looked at my hands – and saw nothing. I started to laugh and if anybody heard it they would send me to a mental hospital. Thankfully nobody screamed at me before I calmed down. This will be the best thing for pranking! I quickly hid it in my suitcase with a giddy smile before I opened the last gift, this one from twins.

It exploded into my face, covering me in a soft powder that made me cough a little but otherwise I was fine. No swelling, no itching – so it will be something mild. Maybe colour-changing? I couldn't see any results so I gave it time and started to look through their gift. There were three potion vials with different pranking potions they made before we knew each other and two parchments. One of them said: ‚You know how the map works. And make us proud, baby-prankster. PS: family is the best target, in our opinion.' I grinned widely, hid the map and used my awake time for some shenanigans.

Let's say nobody wanted to be with me in one car slash room after that... but all of them wanted me on the train as quickly as possible (I wrote a letter to twins with praise filling most of the page – I put their potions into the cookies, milk and the sweets that their father sent to me, all things I don't eat so it wasn't suspicious. They were turned into purple beings with horns on their forehead for two hours! It was glorious!) so dad took me so early to the King's Cross station that I waited almost for an hour before the train left the station and even longer before Hermione found me.

„What happened to you?" I raised my head from the book I was currently reading and raised my eyebrow. „You coloured your hair?"

„It was part of my gift from the twins," I grinned at her. „Next time you will be included too if you want."

„No, thanks. How did you like my gift?"

„Very useful and the chocolate was the best thing French made since the guillotine."

„You're horrible," she rolled her eyes with a smile. I told her how I made my family hate and/or fear me at the same time which made her laugh but she tried to suppress it. „You're the worst, Bundy."

„How did you like my gift?" I took her mind of that.

„It's an interesting book – how did you think of that?"

„I read through it and thought you seemed like a person who would be interested in the possibility to brew their own cosmetic products."

„Are you trying to tell me I look like a girl?" she giggled.

„No, you look like a fucking hippie that doesn't want to support capitalism." She only rolled her eyes before pulling her gift from twins – a book about politics in the magical world and started to tell me all she found out. I zoomed out after approximately five minutes and fell asleep. It was the longest one in weeks, I slept most of the way to Hogwarts and even woke up covered by her school robe like it was a blanket and a hoodie, that I previously threw next to me, folded into a pillow under my head.

(My dream wasn't as nice - It was about the argument I had with Marie and the reason she mentioned it - last year her pet rabbit died from old age on Christmas Day and I was too curious to let my chance slip. I never dissected something that big and she caught me literally red-handed.)

I was happy to see Hogwarts - just those skeletal horses pulling the carriages surprised me.

Chapter End Notes

I promise his family is not as mean as they might sound - but writing through his eyes makes them sound worse than they are (They 'feared' him because they didn't want to get pranked again.).

The Mirror of Erised

„We were walking around, looking for potential furniture, when we found a mirror in a vacant classroom with nothing else in it."

„So we walked up to it, you know, as nosy as usually-"

„And it showed us not only...well...us."

„On top of it was written: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi-"

„Which means: I show not your face but your heart's desire."

„So its simply read from the end to the beginning."

„Shut up Henry."

„Shut up Henry."

„Shut up Henry." I expected it from twins, but Hermione too? I feel betrayed but the soft couch they stole from somewhere makes it all better.

„So, like we wanted to say before we were so rudely interrupted," I rolled my eyes in annoyance, „it was a pretty mirror."

„So much potential – we knew it would look gorgeous in one of the corners," George swept his hand like he was showing us something we never saw.

„It was a big, old-timey, golden thing with claw-like feet, so we needed to use spells – but they didn't work."

„It must have been what triggered some type of alarm because before we could do anything,"

„Dumbledore scared the shit out of us."

„He told us about the meaning of the writing on the top of the frame,"

„-and even asked us what we saw."

„And what did you see?" Hermione asked.

„I saw us in our own prank business," George smiled widely.

„I saw us in a cosy living room, brewing potions and throwing spells right and left," Fred mimicked his twins face.

„Us? Like Hermione, me and you two?"

„Yeah!" came from both of them. Huh, interesting.

„So, where is it now? Can't say I'm not intrigued and curious." Hermione nodded – curiosity is one of the few personality traits our group shares.

„That's the worst thing – Dumbledore made us swear we would never try to find it-"

„-because not just one man lost himself in it."

„And the next day it was gone."

„The only good thing is that the swear wasn't something like an unbreakable vow."

„Just plain old muggle ‚no worry sir, we will never try to do that with crossed fingers behind our back."

„But where could he hide it?" I asked rhetorically, my mind already whirling with ideas.

„We think it's the thing that is guarded by the dog and such."

„That so-called toy you found?" Hermione raised her eyebrow with a small smile. „Are you sure it's not just that you want to try to finish it in a better time?"

„You can go with us this time." I was on board in a snap of a finger, I quite enjoyed the challenges. „Then we will have enough time and no distractions when we prepare for the finals."

„That's true you old liar..." she mussed. „I know you're just manipulating me but I'm really interested in what it will show me. Think we can do it tonight?"

„Of course, the curfew starts in five hours and the last time we finished it in two hours – now we should be much more successful."

„I knew you were timing it!"

So we put on our shoes and with a quick stride, we walked into Cerberuse's room. He barked hello to us and after a good belly-rub, he let us in without a problem – just buckets of saliva. The Devil's Snare welcomed us with its ‚tender' hug that we dispelled with four fairly over-powered Lumoses. I couldn't help but smile when I saw Hermione looking around with wide chocolate brown eyes. The keys were again the biggest annoyance but it took less time than before – Fred was able to capture it in fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds.

„Good job – next time you could make it under ten minutes."

„Don't talk to me like Wood, it's scary."

„Who?" I asked, bewildered.

„Our Quidditch captain."

„Good thing he doesn't know Fred is a decent seeker, the one we have now is horrible," George snickered and opened the door. The prepared chessboard was waiting for us. „Wanna play, Hermione? That madman killed enough of those poor figures last time."

„Sure. We played together in train – his playstyle is horrible and genius at the same time. Henry, you will be queen, twins go and fill the knight spots."

„Sure, my king," we answered in unison. I went to the middle of the board and let her win on her own – if she can best me, she can this board. She lost a lot fewer figures but it took her longer to win so tit for tat, in my humble opinion. Twins were happier, as I almost got them killed – Hermione was keeping them safe and even used her Queen less than she would in a normal play.

We dealt with the troll in the same way (the room was reeking with the smell of old piss and shit, so the typical troll smell was almost pleasant) and continued into the riddle room. „Let me!" she hissed at Fred when he tried to grab the thankfully full potion vial. I wasn't thinking about the possibility there would be no way how we could get to the last room.

‚Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.'

A lovely riddle, that even I needed some time to decipher – personal guess, its the work of the one and only Severus Snape. I also think that the Devil's Snare was Sprouts baby, those fucking keys could only fucking Flitwick think of – but the chess? I have no idea. Twins think it has McGonagall written all over it but why chess and not some cool transfigured animals? Like dragons made out of chairs? That would be really cool.

She figured it out in the end and after I nodded at her guess she lit up and we finally took a swig each and went through the purple fire. There was some happy laughter when the twins' guess was confirmed.

A big mirror stood in the middle of the previously empty room with stone walls. There were two torches, illuminating it. I went in front of it – and puffed out my cheeks in anger because there was nothing more than myself. Not older, not holding a diploma or similar shit. Just me.

„It's broken," I told them. „Try it," I took Hermione by the elbow and moved aside.

„Why do you say that, it works!" She furrowed her brows in surprise. „I can see myself holding perfect N.E.W.T. results, you three and my family around me, congratulating me. Wasn't it just subtle?"

I tried it again, scowling on my own reflection like a madman. Still, nothing. When it moved without me doing so I straightened my back and looked myself in the eyes. He held his finger to his lips and put something in his pocket – but I felt my own jean pocket get heavy. I pulled out a red stone and raised an eyebrow on him. He just winked and grinned before he turned back to a normal reflection – no cool stuff around me. „Guys, it gave me a rock," I turned around and showed them. „And it's still broken."

„I think we have the answer, baby-prankster."

„Dumbles said that only a happy and satisfied person can use it as a normal mirror."

„I'm not a happy person," I dead-paned.

„Maybe happy with your current situation?" Hermione tried to rationalise.

„I personally think you take your ambitions already as a hundred percent things,"

„– almost like you already reached them-"

„-so you don't really long for them."

„It's called confidence."

„I think it's called arrogance, Henry." Hermione jabbed me between the ribs with her surprisingly sharp finger.

„Or ego too big for a young boy," added one of the gingers, the other one ruffling my hair.

„Go fuck yourselves," I mumbled and put the rock back into my pocket. „Let's go out, I want to find a book about magical rocks."

I actually found a book about Magical rocks, but I couldn't find that particular one in it. I tried another one, this one much slimmer, and exactly like I guessed when I picked the thicc boy instead of it, nada. I tried to cut it, break it, but nothing worked – but when I put the knife on it, my precious steel blade turned to gold.

„THE FUCK?!" I exclaimed in shock and threw it into the wall. It tinkled but that was all it did. When I touched the stone with a metal stick the same thing happened. So I looked for a stone that can change metal into gold but could find nothing. Twins were clueless too, even though they are born and raised wizards. It's not surprising Hermione was as angry as I that we couldn't figure it out.

When I got really angry they needed to reason with me (and physically stop me) that asking a teacher would mean that they would take it away. So I put it in a paper box with runes turning the paper almost fully black – thanks to that it was hard as steel, could be opened only by me and then I hid it on the bottom of my suitcase. Done. Never want to see it again.

At that point, it was the fucking end of February (I must say, my patience was immense) and Hermione started to panic about the exams. I helped her when she got burned out with sleeping potions and twins often carried her from the library or our room to their dorms. The fact that they are two years our senior didn't mean they were left out of this – she made them study as hard as she was and when they got really annoyed, she made me tutor them in runes, transfiguration, herbology... and when she got really nasty, potions. I know I'm a bad tutor, worse than Snape in my snarling (after all, that's why we like each other so much) – however, twins took it with patience and I think I made better brewers out of them in the end (and more importantly, I made them into better inventors).

„Calm down Hermione," I caught her after our last exam by the elbow and manhandled her away from the library.

„But I'm sure I answered the thirteenth question incorrectly!"

„What did you write?"

„That if you transform anything into food it can't be eaten – but what if you change food into different food? I totally forgot about that possibility!"

„It was asking only about changing inedible objects, stupid," I tried to calm her down with words but I had chocolate prepared in my pocket. And Calming Draught. „I answered similarly to you."

„You for sure added something above our level, don't lie to me!"

„I wrote a short summary of experiments done on people in the eighteenth century – some dark wizards made muggles eat meals transfigured from wood and then monitored how they reacted and if they survived. Most of those ‚lab rats' died of internal bleeding or malnutrition. So the simple answer without a history lesson is alright, I just wanted to share my knowledge with her."

„You just wanted to make her sick," she rolled her eyes, calmer than before. I offered her the chocolate nonetheless and she ate it in seconds. Usually, she would crinkle her nose and say she likes her teeth nice and healthy but today was a different day.

We relaxed in our room, shoes off and minds blank when we talked about our plans for summer.

„My parents and I were planning another trip to France, I wanted to look into their magical community. But the rest of the holidays... you could visit me?"

„I guess, I already have a stay at Weasley residence agreed on – I do not mind some travelling. Well, if your parents won't try to make me behave or are against some of my tendencies."

„I warned them before Christmas break and they took it well when they met you, I think. However, they will work most of the days. I think I could make them agree to twins arriving too... they are just not as happy about them."

„Why?"

„Because they are boys entering puberty? And three boys with one girl sounds kind of bad." I raised my head from the rug and looked at her surprised. „Don't look at me like that, you know how parents sometimes think. Like the girlfriend boyfriend comment."

„That's true. If they are not ok with so much testosterone, you can visit me instead – my mother is a stay-at-home mother so there would be less stay alone time."

„I'll try to ask. But besides that, would will you do?"

„For sure brew a lot, read books, catch up with muggle science papers, work on my garden, terrorise my family... and I want to try out embroidery – I read that runes can be stitched into clothes and I would like to try that."

„I only know how to croche, sorry."

„I looked at some classes and found one that I will probably attend."

„I would love to be a fly on a wall when you walk there for the first time," she started to giggle.

„Why?"

„I doubt there will be some other male or someone younger than thirty."

„I can deal with old hags."

„But can they deal with you?"

Summer holidays

Chapter Notes

PROCRASTINATION, I SHALL CALL YOU ASSASSINS CREED VALHALLA!

This time I had no chance to read as much as I could with only Hermione in the compartment. Twins taught us Exploding Snap, which was kind of fun – but I prefer muggle card games so I promised I would bring a deck of cards next school year. Hermione then said she could bring some board games because her family has an abundance of them at home (Twins found Ludo- Don't get angry funny and renamed it into Henry - Don't get angry. How original of them! That joke was already done by my siblings five years ago.).

We met the Weasleys first because they were waiting on the platform and not outside of it. Percy and Dickhead were already waiting with their parents, waiting for us – again, we waited for the worst and biggest crowd to get out. There was also their youngest sibling, Ginevra. „You must be Henry!" Arthur Weasley very quickly singled me out and went for a handshake – after a moment I did the normal thing and didn't just sneer at him. „Arthur Weasley, I'm happy to finally meet such a bright young man personally."

„Nice to meet you too. Not often do I meet people who are so passionate about technology," I tried to act nice so he would let me drive his car later in the summer. My friends look at me like they didn't know me and of course, Fred took my chin and started to move my head so he could see it in all its glory – George started to circle around me and poke me with an annoyingly sharp finger. „What the fuck you assholes!" I kicked Fred in the crotch and batted away George. One of them was on the ground in a blink of an eye – guess who?

„You were acting like a nice person," Fred moaned from his embryo position. I kicked him again, this time in his thigh and with less strength put into it. Hermione giggled but helped him up.

„You were really acting like a completely different person," she smiled at me and behind Fred so not to get hit by a chocolate frog wrapper. And the ginger was hit again! I almost fist-pumped in victory. Then I turned around on instinct and kicked the other one – he was trying to attack me from behind, so I had all the reasons to kick him, right?

„Stop it, boy," their mother finally spoke up, frowning.

„This?" I raised my brow and kicked George in the knee. Fred got three hits, so he should too.

„Yes, that! And your language is atrocious, your mother should wash your mouth out with soap!" Her shrieks were strong enough to make my ears hurt (thankfully not bleed) and to bring the attention of many parents to us.

„And your voice is so high pitched it should be marked as a weapon," I answered quickly and folded my arms on my chest. Twins warned me she was that type of person but forgot to tell me how loud she is. „Good thing I will be a host of your husband and children and not you, you fucking hag." For the first time in my life, I was glad Fridrich was always a proactive bully – he liked to practise his aim on me when he started to play football, later tennis and one time even darts (mum stopped that one very quickly) – so this training prepared me for dodging her spell. Kind of.

It hit some other kid – he started to foam up in the mouth and was spitting bubbles in no time. Before I could ask: „What the fuck?" Twins grabbed me and my belongings, dragging me through the portal. „What was that?"

„I would guess a mouth washing with soap?" Hermione answered me.

„Duh, but why?"

„I can say only one thing – fuck."

„Glad she didn't do it in front of dad, he doesn't like when someone tries to discipline us physically."

George put me down when I waved at my parents and Grangers, who were speaking like good friends. My siblings were nowhere in sight – which I'm thankful for (I hope twins won't like them more than myself).

„Hello," I said and took my suitcase from Fred.

„Hi, Harry," mum smiled and went for a hug – I tried to block her with the trunk but it didn't help too much.

„Get off me, woman."

In my peripheral vision, I could see Grangers trying to kill their daughter by asphyxiation, not even her smile made it better. Masochist.

„You are Henry's friends?" dad shook twins' hands separately.

„Forge and Gred Weasley," they grinned at him. He smiled too but also rolled his eyes. He knows their names, I wrote about them more than few times.

„Did Henry tell you the date?"

„Yes, Mr Bundy," answered George, much better at the ‚innocent angel face'.

„Will you need to get picked up?"

„No, dad will apparate us."

„Which means...?"

„It's like instant transportation."

„Oh. Sure. Henry, you'll need to tell me more at home."

„I'm going to miss you three," Hermione attacked me from the side when mother stepped to the side.

„Sure dad. See you in two weeks, Hermione!" I tried to pry her off but then twins made it impossible – one on my other side and the other on my front. Kicking them in balls was too merciful of me. I should have completely cut them off. I almost managed to bite the body in front of me but Hermione grabbed my jaw and made it impossible to bite. So I stepped on her foot and then put all my weight into her – if there weren't two pairs of decently strong arms holding us, we would fall to the ground.

„You're surprisingly heavy for four twigs and slightly wider branch."

„Shut the fuck up and let go of me."

Hermione was right – embroidery course is the most popular with older women that don't like ‚crude little boys that just stopped holding their mother's skirt'. But – and this one is important – they like young boys that can be better than a female in their craft (at least with only a week of practice) and don't bitch about any criticism. After all, I was never told I'm a bad student – just a bad person.

Everybody made fun of me when after a week I always came home with cookies and pink dots on my cheeks (who would guess that old wrinkly fingers that have often problems with shaking could be that strong?). In a moment of not paying attention, too focused on my embroidery of Hogwarts, I got a lipstick mark on my cheek – and I couldn't get it off. My mother needed to use her make-up remover to get me rid of it – I was on a verge of bleaching it or drowning myself in alcohol.

I was sitting in a chair with my legs crossed (I like calling it bastardised lotus position), wooden circle on my lap and eyes half opened in drowsiness.

„Forgot to go to sleep, old man?" For some reason they found my personality funny, saying I'm similar to their old husbands – grumpy, crude and bitchy. I believe grumpy and bitchy is almost the same but I don't even try anymore.

„I was reading about car engines," I mumbled and finished another lit up window. I was learning on writing, geometrical shapes and later on linework flowers – but I wanted to try something more akin to painting so I chose a picture burned into my brain – even though I never found it as beautiful as my classmates. Dark castle on a navy blue background, small windows illuminating the surrounding air. With impressionistic approach it was possible, but still – it wasn't easy.

„Are you interested in cars?"

„I prefer motorcycles, but my friends' dad has a car and invited me to work on it later in the summer." I yawned and started to work on another window.

„That's nice of him, do your friends also enjoy motorcycles?"

„Never talked about it."

„And what do they like?" My exhaustion almost made me say the truth, that they like potions, charms and such – but I caught myself before I could say anything.

„They like chemistry, physics and anything that would help them prank people."

„Oh! They must be fun to be around!"

„We wouldn't be friends if they weren't," I rolled my eyes and stabbed my finger. „Fuck."

„Did you meet at school?"

„Yes."

„Come on, work with us," Rose threw a cookie at me.

„What the fuck do you want to know?" I moaned in despair and put it in my mouth, chewing as loudly as possible.

„Names, age... you know, so we know them more."

„You sound like a perv," I mumbled around the chocolate chip cookie. So I told them – about Fred, George and Hermione. After that, I was forced to promise I would bring them when they are visiting. Fuuuuuuck.

Hermione lived in a house smaller than ours – which makes sense. It was still a nice building and their garden was charmingly wild – the grass was overgrown, flowerbeds filled not only with flowers but also weeds. We don't have too much grass in front of our house – our driveway needs to be big because we don't have a garage.

I ringed the bell and waited with dad close behind me. „Be nice to Grangers, after all, they offered their house to you, little hellion."

„I'm an angel in human form," I sassed back sharply. He pinched my arm, bared to the summer sun.

„And I'm a frail flower, brat."

„What you raised..." Now I needed to avoid a weak slap across the head – thankfully Hermione opened the door at that moment and I could duck behind her. „Hello Hermione."

„Hello Henry, Mr Bundy. You are here sooner than expected."

„I'd rather be everywhere too soon rather than too late," he smiled down at her and gave me my magical backpack I acquired in Diagon Alley. I wanted to carry it myself, it's enchanted to be feather-light even though I have too many books in it (undetectable extension charm is the weirdest but the most useful spell I ever heard of – even though I hate how physics are meaningless in the world of magic) but dad took it from beneath my hands.

„It's a nice philosophy."

„It's survival thing – I missed the birth of my oldest son and my wife told me she would gut me if I ever missed anything important again – and Henry's first sleepover with his g-"

I kicked him in the shin when he tried to call her my girlfriend – Hermione tried to stifle her laugh. „Are your parents at home?"

„No, they are working, but there is a lunch prepared for us."

„Don't let him cook," dad told her.

„You mean don't let him go near a burner?"

„You know very well what I mean young man."

„It was only one time – and when I was only seven so I think you are overprotective of that fucking kitchen."

„You almost burned the whole house down."

„Go fuck yourself in the fucking car old man." I narrowed my eyes, he did the same for a moment before he grinned widely and reached behind Hermione. It was easy for him to grab me, she could never hide me fully - I'm maybe thinner but also a head taller. That and she moved to a side when he pulled me into a hug.

„Don't do anything lethal or harmful and don't make me grandchildren."

„My body is unable to make fertile sperm right now, idiot." I pinched his side as hard as I could but he only messed up my hair.

„Be a good boy, Harry."

„Go die in a car accident, Gregor."

„Love you too."

„Go fuck yourself."

Then he left after he squeezed the air out of me and messed up my already messed up hair for the last time. I quickly smoothed my fringe so my scar is not showing before I turned around to face Hermione. „What are we going to do today?" I picked up my bag and threw it on my back.

„Dad offered to drive us to town tomorrow, but today we can do something around here. But now - let's put that bag away."

„Have you finished your homework?"

„Yeah, why?"

„Twins sent their stupider than owl-stupid fucking owl with questions about some things yesterday."

„Most people finish summer homework the last week of the summer holiday."

„Really?"

„Have you never talked with your classmates?"

„Not really, they thought they were too old for us to be friends."

She was silent for a moment. „I always forget you were preparing for university."

„People usually do."

„Did you drop any just to go to Hogwarts?"

„Scholarship in Oxford, but after Hogwarts, I can always get it again. Hermione, why is your room pink?" I stopped in the doorframe, looking at the surprisingly girly room – plushies on the bed, pictures in flowery frames and a shelf filled with fucking Disney movie CDs.

„I like pink?" she rolled her eyes. „Are you aware that I am a girl?"

„It's somewhere in my knowledge but it was never something I really thought about," I said ironically. „You just never struck me as a girly girl – I expected only the bookcase bursting in seams."

„So your room is not blue or green?" she jumped up on her bed with a grin.

„Used to be white but there is a stain when I threw my tea on it and few burn-marks too... and last summer I started to draw on it with a marker in a sleepy daze..." She started to laugh. „Insomnia is no joke!"

„I bet it's your fault you have it."

„Yes, but still – not funny." She threw a pillow at me – and I might be taller and far more experienced in pillow-fights, but she won and I gained a lot more bruises (fucking hard plastic eyes on plushies).

After a great visit to the museum where I embarrassed the workers there (stupid people with lines learned but no understanding), we spent three days absorbing vitamin D with books on our laps. The sun gave Hermione some freckles, so she finally wasn't the only one in our group without them.

Because Grangers were not willing to let twins sleep on the floor like I was, they visited only for one day – we went to the playground because they've never been to one.

„What do you do with these?" Fred kicked one swing.

„You sit on them and swing," I caught it and started to show him with a face that told him exactly what I think.

„You couldn't scream stupid louder," he rolled his eyes with a smile and sat on the other one. We watched in silence – and second-hand embarrassment – Hermione and George who were trying to hit the basketball hoop. They were missing spectacularly.

Then a stone hit me in the back of my head – I turned around, looking into small blue eyes of a pink beachball. I meant pig in a wig. No, I meant a fat boy! „What the fuck you fucking dimwit?" I picked it up and threw it. My athleticism showed when it didn't hit him.

„Dad always tells me that your kind needs to get burned at stake," he made a disgusting face at us – I think it was a smile? Fred hit him with a stone in the middle of his forehead.

„Good shot," I high-fived him enthusiastically and came closer to get a better shot at him.

„Mummy!" I managed to hit his wobbly ass, a good big target.

„Hey! That's not fair! Don't move!" I yelled and before he knew what was happening, we were sniping him while running after him with evil laughter on our lips. We haven't stopped even when a horse-like woman shrieked like a banshee. We did stop when she was close enough to understand her yelling.

„He started it," I shrugged and hid a prepared stone in my pocket.

„My Dudders would never do such a nasty thing!" she screeched, almost as loudly as Mrs Weasley.

„Couldn't do worse than the one who named him," Fred mumbled silently.

„Fucking right," I snickered."

„Where are your parents!"

„Few kilometres away."

„Depends on how deep you wanna go," I talked over Freds more reasonable answer.

We were staring at each other – she seems... familiar. „Say sorry and we can forget it," she lost our staring contest.

„Sorry, piggy."

„Sorry, Duddy." I'm getting hang of this talking at the same moment – I'm excited for the day we will finish each other's sentences, it will fuck people up even more than if only twins do it. Hermione joining would make it even more fun! Four-way sentences sound like a proper mind-fuck.

She wasn't happy with us but after a long look, she went away.

[What Henry didn't know, was that he just met his aunt and cousin – and Petunia recognised him thanks to his wind-swept hair showing his iconic scar and how similar he was to her sister. Of course, she couldn't say she was a hundred percent sure... but she was pretty sure.

And she was never happier she gave him up for adoption – that hellion seemed like a job and a half (and potentially a murder charge for Vernon).]

The first week in August meant it was my turn to host a week-long sleepover. Dad prepared a big family tent for us in the grassy garden, near my patch of flowers. I believe some motherfucker tried to stomp them to death but after I managed to make a small rune-based barrier that gives intruders electrical shocks, my potion ingredients had no problem with flourishing. I suspected Elizabeth so I put all her underwear on our fence so everybody could see it.

We told Hermione's parents she would sleep in the same room as my sisters but we lied like professionals. Hermione would give us that look if we made her sleep in the same room as my sisters. Doesn't want to be left out.

Twins arrived with a loud pop near the tent, their father holding their shoulders when they lost their footing. Usually pale twins looked slightly green, which made me snicker and wish to learn it sooner than legal. „Hi," I grinned and tried to trip their weak legs when Arthur let go of them. I succeeded on both fronts! „When are you going to pick them up, Mr Weasley?"

„Around three p.m., so they don't throw up on the way back." I could see a devious smirk on his wrinkly face – I should have known that twins couldn't inherit their coolness from their fucking mother. „Nice to see you, Henry. I'm excited for your help with the car."

„I read all the books about cars my brother has so I think I could technically help you with anything."

„That's great news – but I would also like it if you helped me with some muggle inventions. Like what is the use for a rubber duck?"

„You bathe with it. It's a toy." I deadpanned.

„That's it?"

„Yeah. It's fucking stupid – like children who like to play with it. Boats are far better."

„Thanks for the help – see you all on Friday!"

„Bye, dad!"

„Bye!" I gave him a small wave with the hand not buried inside my pocket. „So, are you hungry? Mother made us some sandwiches for a snack."

„Sure!"

„When Hermione arrives?"

„In an hour or so – why? Do you want to surprise her?" Then we prepared a quick meal that would turn her boring brown hair into a neon green masterpiece. We ate our ham sandwiches in few bites and kept hers on a plate. She would for sure enjoy it, but Fridrich got to it when we were welcoming her. I must admit, it was even better than pranking Hermione.

„You are a bunch of assholes," she giggled when we told her how my brother fucked up our plans. „Now I will never trust you with handling my food!"

„And drinks?"

„That too!"

„Does that mean we can have all the food?"

„And you will stop stealing my tea?"

„Henry, I thought you enjoyed my compliments!" she batted her eyelashes too quickly to be natural.

„I will poison it next time, bitch."

„You said that last time and it was even better. You need to buy me that tea for Chrismas. I loved it."

„I will poison it."

That day we ended up in my room where they were looking through my experiments. Hermione hated my mess and kicked some of it under my bed so she could get to my try on Veritaserum. I wanted to make it less potent, make it much more useful in a normal setting. And most importantly, I wanted to make it work on muggles. Dad would find it useful if he could make people confess and tell only the truth. The biggest downside of the typical Veritaserum is that it needs magic to work, so I was experimenting with better sources of energy. It worked on me so I did make a truth potion but it still didn't work on Marie. It needs more work.

Another one was a joined project with twins – they managed to make a potion that would turn people into canaries but I wanted to turn people into toads. I should finish it in three days, toad skin usually takes two days to dissolve perfectly in substances containing alkaline liquids.

„Did you work on anything?" I aked them from my hardly used bed.

„On the canary candy and we finished our fever-inducing chocolate!"

„I started to learn runes from your notes and managed to make a barricade on my trunk. It's harder than you make it sound."

„He does that with everything, Hermione."

„We would know-"

„-after all, you made him tutor us before the exams." I feel a killing intent in the air...

„And did it pay off?" she raised her eyebrows. Both of them turned red, but not in anger.

„Yeah..."

„Mum even though we cheated..."

„So how good? I got all Outstandings, bar DADA and Potions. I think my potion was too bright to pass as outstanding."

„We got E's and O's in everything – almost fifty-fifty. How about you, Henry?"

„Outstanding from top to bottom of that list. I believe Flitwick tried to fuck me up on the practical task but it was easy to fuck HIM up. McGonagall and Snape even gave me Above Outstanding."

„Teacher's pet."

„Just Above Charming!" I felt that their laugh was too sarcastic – at least for my ears (and even though they would swear I was pouting, I will never acknowledge that).

We discussed runes for two hours after they calmed down. Twins were good with the practical part, Hermione knew them by heart and I was as always the only one who knew how to blow up the room. Doesn't sound important out of context but my mother ended that conversation when we started to heatedly argue if Egyptian or Viking runes are better for bulldozing a building. She stuffed us with ice cream and we entered a sugar coma.

„Henry? Will you help me with my chemistry homework?" Ludvik burst into my room with a notebook and textbook under the arm. I raised my head from the floor with sleepy eyes. When did I fall asleep? Probably before everyone decided that I am a good pillow. I will never eat chocolate ice cream again...

„What is it?"

„Creating nomenclature of salts."

„That's not primary school curriculum," Hermione opened one eye, looking at me from my shoulder. The moment I fully wake up, I will kill them.

„I attend summer classes in chemistry and physics – our school gives this opportunity to everyone!" His voice got squeakier and louder, which woke up Fred. George would sleep through the apocalypse. „Henry went there too."

„Gimme, and tell me what you don't understand."

„I always mess up the counting. Especially in the complex ones." How I ended up teaching twins and Hermione I have no idea but I managed to only yell five times when they began to try and make the names themselves. One would think Hermione would know at least the basic things but her school only lightly touched the theory with a ten meters long stick.

„Now, sulphuric acid is H 2SO 4 so you have two helium, four oxygen molecules times two because of the oxidation number which means you count with the number EIGHT, and eight minus two is what?"

„Six."

„Which means?"

„The oxidation number of sulphur is six."

„Because in the formula is only one molecule, right?"

„Yes. Goodness gracious, I will kill you all. So, if you use this logic, how would you write the formula for sodium sulfate which is derived from that acid?"

„You get rid of the H, you add sodium," Ludvik mumbled, writing slowly, waiting for a snort or growl or pinch. „Does Na have the same oxidation number as H?"

„Where is it in the periodic table?"

Fred found it before anyone could answer. „In the first column. So it has only one oxidation number possible, right? So it should be Na 2SO 4!"

„Hey! It's my homework, I should say the result!"

„But I'm quicker, shorty."

„I'm not short! I'm the tallest in my class!"

„In comparison to me-"

„You are four years-"

„KIDS! DINNER!"

„You inherited your voice from your mother," Hermione put a pinkie in her ear to clear it out.

„If you say so," I shrugged and threw a fist into the air above my shoulder which George was trying to use as a cane. It landed into his chest.

„You motherfucker," he wheezed and backed up. My mother selected that moment to look into my room.

„Wait, I always wanted to say this." I stopped her and looked at the ginger. „Language young man!"

George always believed that the worst roommate would be Ron with his loud snoring and tendency to fart in his sleep. And he saw Henry sleep before, so he knew the skinny boy was as silent as death. It was a common sight to see him sleep on their couch, long limbs stretched and chin slightly raised into the air, glasses askew.

But Henry who can't fall asleep and doesn't understand that other people need to is a different thing and he starts to get the picture why Ravenclaws hate the smart boy. Hermione was obviously used to this and was capable of tuning him out. Fred tried his hardest to keep a conversation and his brother was partially sleeping on his bony shoulder.

All this was the main reason why nobody in the tent wanted to go out and eat breakfast with the rest of the Bundys. Henry saved them some sandwiches but before twins woke up, he ate all the bacon and Hermione breathed in the rest of the eggs. „Your bad you can't wake up in a normal hour," she stuck her tongue out.

„You are not the one who tried to keep up with insomniac there."

„I never said you need to!" Henry tried to act innocent for zero point one seconds and failed like usually.

„Is anything on our timetable?" Fred asked after finishing his third sandwich.

„Not really. Do you want to do something particular?"

„Is here a playground like where Hermione lives? I want to perfect my throwing skills."

„Sure, go to the front, I will steal a ball from Fridrich." With that, the genius left his friends who went lazily to the meeting place. Hermione was hanging on twins' elbows and was telling them about how torturous were first two nights with Henry in her room when they stopped with eyes on top of their heads. Henry's older sister was sunning herself, hidden from the public eye by a hedge fence. Behind the house was a big shadow in that time of morning, so her tanning place was not that surprising – but her teenage body in a tiny bikini was. Waves of blond hair partially shading her pretty face only added to the redness in twins' faces.

„Oh! You're finally up!" she smiled at them kindly. „Did Henry annoy you the whole night? You know you could sleep elsewhere?" She leaned forward, looking at the ginger brothers with a small blush.

‚How can my lame brother find such pretty boys and become their friend? They are so out of his league,' she thought with jealousy. She might love her younger brother, but only to a point.

„Marie, what-"

„You look like a fucking whore. And you three, pull up your jaws! It's my sister you perverts!" At that moment, Henry looked like his mother even though they weren't blood-related. They had the same disappointed and at the same time angry look, hands-on-hips (in one instance visible ones and in the other not at all) and posture straight as a ruler.

„Don't call your sister whore, Henry. But I do agree – we told you not to wear that swim-wear, it's too small for you."

„I didn't want tan lines!"

„Liar." The chair Marie was lounging on snaped in more places than natural. The thought: ‚You just want to steal my friends,' never came out of his lips, because Henry would never admit that.

„They are really pretty. Like, all of them."

„Are trying to tell us something, Hermione?" George grinned and wiggled his eyebrow. The bushy-haired girl only rolled her eyes.

„No. But look at his mum and siblings – blue-eyed, blond and conventionally very pretty. Henry looks nothing like them."

„He looks like his father."

„Not fully..."

„Mum always tells us we look like her brothers and her dad, so maybe he just got his looks from his grandparents."

„But from where would he get the green in his eyes? Have you never noticed how bright it gets when he uses magic or get excited?"

„You can't miss that." Fred snorted.

„I read into it and green is the weakest gene from all eye-colours. Also his magic – I believe that Henry himself told me about how there is a fifty percent chance that if there is one muggle-born child in the family with four children, there will be at least another one. And he's the only wizard in his family of five. He wouldn't say that if he knew it wasn't a fact."

„But how can we know for sure?"

„I believe there must be some potion that can tell us his heritage, like a blood test or something. But I doubt we could lie well enough that he wouldn't know about our plan and we can't ask professor Snape."

„We could just ask him," Fred intervened into their scheming with a bored look on his freckly face. „I doubt he doesn't know or that he cares. As long as he calls them family, they are family. Blood or not."

They knew where to find Henry – he was working on one of his potions, so they had time to strategize how to take it lightly (even though Fred told his two friends he doubted Henry would be happy with their approach). When the genius emerged from his room in the oversized labcoat and colourful hands stained with potion ingredients they dragged him into their tent and tried to gently ask him if he was adopted. The keyword is trying and after a lot of stuttering Fred lived to his reputation as a snake in lions skin and aked harshly: „Are you blood-related to your parents and siblings?"

„No, I was adopted when I was a little over one year old." Well, that was easier then either of them expected. Even Fred thought he would be surprised that they thought of that, but no. „Both of my parents were wizards, so I inherited magic from them."

„Do you know their names? Maybe we know some family?"

„James and Lily Potter." Again, he had a perfect poker-face, a stark contrast to them.

„Are you fucking-"

„-kidding me?"

„How can you say it so-"

„-casually?!"

„You act like it changes everything."

„You are-" that one was George.

„-mothefucking-" continued Fred.

„Harry Potter!" Hermione shrieked and Henry only rolled his eyes.

„You're fucking weird."

Shopping adventure

I was happy to escape my home and even happier to finally see the car of my (recent) dreams. I really want to see how turning invisible works – Arthur owled me books about invisible cloaks but none of it seems believable because my cloak is as strong as a new one and I can't find a single rune on the silvery fabric. And I looked with my best magnifying glass.

The Burow was a structurally unsound building leaning to one side – which one depended on the direction of the wind currents. Only magic could hold it up and I don't doubt that runes and magical barriers run through the whole building. I wonder, who made this architectural abomination? Arthur, his or Molly's family?

Before I could even put my bag down, I was whisked into a game of Quidditch. Ginevra Weasley almost killed me with her perfect aim for my poor little head – I know why I hate sports. The only thing that made me at least slightly happy was the fact that Hermione was even worse. At least I am a decent flyer.

„You could make a good Seeker," Ginevra grinned at me – so similar to twins I didn't have the tendency to sneer right after her insult. „You are quite tall, but you still manage to be quick and agile."

„I don't do sports."

„I want to be part of the team, do you think I could do it?" she ignored my biting words and hopped over my leg that tried to trip her. Obviously used to twins. Fucking hell. „Charlie says I'm good, but he's my brother – of course, he thinks so!"

„Wasn't he a captain?"

„Yes, why?"

„So he knows, you stupid bitch. He saw many horrible players."

„If you say so, dick-head."

„No, I am an asshole," I corrected the younger girl and managed to finally trip her. Although the nice feeling of sadistic happiness was cut short by her laughter. „Fuck you. I hoped you would cry."

„Says the person who sleeps in Ron's room."

I swear I almost fainted in rage.

Kill or not to kill? That is the question...

„Move aside."

„Wh-"

„I said move aside or George shall lose a brother."

„I wondered when you'd show up," Fred mumbled and raised his duvet.

„I'm not sleeping with you. You would use me as a personal teddy bear – AGAIN."

„Not my fault you are surprisingly cuddly. Where else would you like to sleep? I know your last sleep-session was two days back if you stuck to your usual schedule so you won't live through the night without falling asleep. And you yourself said to move aside."

„Aside – meaning onto the ground or into the other bed." Even though I was bitching, I already kicked off slippers that were lent to me. He expected that and never stopped holding the dull red blanket up until I fell next to him, my back facing him. „If I wake up before you and something is laying on me, I will bite."

„I know. I still have scabs."

The next day I tasted blood first thing in the morning – Fred only hissed into my ear, which is an improvement on his side. After a big breakfast Mrs Weasly forced us into de-gnoming her garden - shouldn't she be capable enough to do that herself? Twins were throwing them over the fence, but I could see them coming back. Hermione was as loud as I for once and asked for some type of insecticide – Molly gave us one but it worked as much as calming exercises that my kindergarten teacher tried to teach me. So I pulled out my switchblade and started to cut their throats. Twins were indifferent, Hermione looked away but managed to acknowledge that this method is the only we have on our hands. Ginevra was the only one who helped me, the trio of softies only brought our victims.

It's not like they actually bled blood filled with haemoglobin – it was green, surely packed with chlorophyll. I took samples for further research – blood and tissue. Thankfully I always have a vial or ten in my pockets.

I felt like I died at that moment, there was ash all over me and most importantly in my nose and on my glasses. I couldn't see shit so I took them down and attempted to clean them. Meanwhile, I squinted into the dark room. I could see movement so I went there. „Hi. Where am I?"

„You came here through the chimney?"

„Only through a fireplace." I tried to look through my glasses but I saw only a grey smudge. The man moved his arm and finally, I could see. „Thanks. I wanted to go to Diagon Alley, but ash went straight up my nose and fucked it up."

„Obviously, young man. You are in Knockturn Alley."

„Yes!" My excitement made me cackle with a truly excited laugh that my siblings call ‚mad scientist laugh'. I have no idea why I think its decently normal – twins laugh similarly if they are happy about an experiment. „What do you sell?" I turned my head as far as it would go in both directions but keeping him in the corner of my sight. Dangerous might be interesting but I like myself enough to pay at least some attention to adults with wands.

„Anything, really. Cursed items, trinkets and such."

„Do you sell books?"

„Aren't you little young for that?" he rested his elbow on the counter and put his big head on tattooed knuckles. That looks cool, but the scar across his eye is even more badass. I only raised my eyebrow and waited. After a staring contest, he finally gave up and showed me a relatively small bookshelf that was stuffed to the brim and beyond. „What are you interested in?"

„Mostly potions and medical stuff, but I don't shy away from any knowledge available."

„Aspiring medic in one of the darkest shops in the wizarding world? You have balls of steel."

„I believe that as long as you have balls, they are material-wise similar to mine. And any knowledge is good, only how you use it determines if it's good or evil – that and I never got why wizards categorise spells into groups, I can find at least two first-year spells that can kill a human, and I'm not even talking about potions. Wingardium Leviosa is the most obvious one, as long as you can pick up something heavy with your magic you can kill people. Then there is Petrificus Totalus – curse someone in the water and they are fucked with capital F. And the things you can make with the potion kit for first years! I managed to create a strong acid that melted through my cauldron and damaged my carpet. Again. I should really find something more sturdy, shouldn't I?"

„I think I have a book for you – I knew a young man with similar ideals and he adored it. It's more about the magic theory from before there was dark and light magic. And here is a book with pretty old but powerful healing spells and potions."

That surprised me, but who am I to say no to books so willingly given? „How much?"

„Twenty galleons for each." Four times pricier than normal first-hand coursebook, although I guess these are not as widely available as those. Anyhow, I paid with a smile.

„I might not be capable of getting here before school, is there a way to get books any other way? Like through post?"

„You can send me a letter, to Caractactus Burke, the shop's called Borgin and Burkes. And you are?"

„Henry Bundy. No shop name." The black-haired male rolled his eyes.

„How old are you, young man?"

„Twelve. Is there a policy that you can't sell minors stuff through the post? Dad can handle the correspondence if that's the problem."

„No, just curious. Put your hood up before entering the street, go left and try to get out as soon as possible. You are far too young to take care of yourself."

„If you say so." I took it with a grain of salt (he never saw me with dangerous objects that go boom) but did as he asked me to do and got out of Knockturn Alley in few minutes. Hermione tried to kill me in a hug when she ran into me, eyes dangerously wet.

„Where have you been!" she screeched.

„I ended up in some shop in Knockturn – the owner was nice enough not to gut me and even showed me where to go." The sarcasm was laid as thick as snow around Hogwarts in winter but she managed to miss that part and started to go hysterical about my lack of self-preservation and dumb luck. The only dumb thing about me is my only female friend.

„Where did you end, little raven?" George hugged me around my shoulders so I stepped on his foot and went straight.

„Are we going to the bookshop first?"

„Yes, we have all our potion ingredients from our personal shopping through the year and you are the only one who needs new robes. So books are the only thing we need to buy."

„Don't even talk to me about clothes shopping, my mother PROMISED me that she will torture me with that next week."

„Your jeans were too short in April, what did you expect? And now your t-shirts show your lower back when you move your arms."

„Thank you, perv."

„I have eyes, there is nothing wrong with that Henry!"

„Why is there a line?"

„Gilderoy Lockhart is signing his books - Mum is waiting in it."

„Isn't he an author of our new coursebooks for DADA?"

„Yes. He writes stories that are quite popular," Fred joined our conversation from Gorge's side. „If we try hard enough, we might manage to get through the crowd. I looked into the second-hand shop and there were non of his books."

„Fucking hell. Why are we buying storybooks for our classes?" I moaned and kicked a female (that pushed me) into her shin, ducking under some elbows, forcing my way into the shop.

„I think he might be our new teacher," Hermione mused aloud.

„No fucking way –" Then I saw the blond asshole and got disgusted goosebumps. „He looks like a fucking imbecile. I bet our new teacher is just a dumb fangirl."

„What do you bet?"

„Anything." At first glance, nobody would ever guess Hermione is a gambler, but her competitive spirit knows no bounds.

„Would you wear a skirt for a week if you lose? If you win, you can colour my hair."

„Sure – but I won't. Get prepared for bright piss yellow hair."

„Wanna bet too?" Hermione asked twins who were quick to say no. Pussies.

We found the books and bought a few more, that were a hundred times more interesting than the ones with covers so bright I gained another diopter. His teeth should be classified as a lethal weapon – and I don't care that that comment made the shop assistant snicker. I was serious about that.

Then they dragged me into Madam Malkin'sRobes for All Occasions where we met Susan and Hannah, who managed to distract me so I was much more cooperative with the seamstress.

„I had a problem with my potions homework – have you ever heard of Wiggentree bark?"

„Did you know you can cast magic in Diagon Alley? Your trace can't pick up your own magic from the magic around you so it kind of turns off!"

„Do you think the quality of Mandrake depends on the type of soil?"

After that, they went with us to the Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. I tried the tea flavour (which was too sweet but still better than any other type – bar chocolate). I bought a scoop for George and one for Fred because they were the only ones who had no money left after buying some books. They were reluctant to take my offer but I bullied them into it. Fred picked chocolate and his brother slowly licked lemon-flavour. Hermione enjoyed her hazelnut and vanilla, Hannah chose one of the weird ones – butter popcorn and her roommate chose peanut and strawberry mix.

Then the Hufflepuffs left us and Hermione dragged us into the pets shop – she wanted to buy an owl. I looked around without intention to buy anything – I only looked at the reptiles, amused by the snakes that talked over each other, arguing who is the best looking. They heard from some older snake that being part of a human family means living in luxury so when I looked at them, they started to try to make me buy them. I kept quiet – snakes always freak out when I talk to them.

After checking out the cold-blooded animals I walked back and got invested in a big raven who looked at me with intelligent eyes – he even said hi, which impressed me. Dad wanted me to buy an owl but everyone knows how I feel about those stupid birds. However, if even something as intelligent as a raven can carry post...

„He's so cute!" Hermione spooked not only the black bird when she turned on her girly-screech-voice. She was cooing over a ginger cat with a face only a mother could love.

„He has been here for quite some time," the saleswoman told her with a fake kind smile. „Nobody ever found an interest in him."

„He's so adorably grumpy looking – he reminds me of you, Henry!"

„Go fuck yourself too." Surprisingly, when I tried to pet it, the cat let me. If he scratched me, it wouldn't shock me – animals often find me untrustworthy. „He looks smart. Is he a magical cat?"

„He's part Kneazle. Good guess, young man."

„His fur is kind of a big clue. I want that raven," I pointed behind me with my thumb – the smart bird guessed what is happening and lent on my head in the next few seconds.

After buying all the things our new pets needed, we walked out of there – Hermione was holding Harry in her arms with a big happy smile and I was seething behind her, with a raven making a nest out of my hair. Not only is her HAIR going to turn piss-yellow – her whole being is going to turn into a rainbow!

I hate clothes shopping – as a kid I was always persuaded by a bribe (and some sweet words, which I shall never acknowledge), now I get jackshit and mum drags me by the elbow through racks filled with clothing. Nobody was willing to go with us, as they think that our mother is the second craziest person in our household. Especially when we start to argue. I'm not sure where I got my tendency to scream fuck, but my body language when I get really angry comes from the woman that is capable of making me wear fluffy cat onesie on her birthday. So maybe she really is crazy (but mainly kind of scary).

The important part of shopping for me was figuring out the sizes – as long as mother wasn't picking out neon T-shirts I let her go ham.

„Good afternoon, Mr Bundy."

„Professor Snape," I turned around on my heel and acted like he hadn't surprised me. Sneaky bastard. „Were you too forced into buying clothing even though our ancestors were good in nude?" He rolled his eyes which was the effect I wanted.

„How did your summer go? Any interesting reading you picked up?"

„I did – some more obscure potion and healing books that I found while shopping for my school supplies. It helped me with some of my experiments, like making magical cures for more basic ailments suitable for muggle bodies. Before that, I was stuck with a version of veritaserum that I wanted to make – but this helped me with understanding how to mix magic into potions. It was meant for magical exhaustion, however, it was quite easy to use in other ways. How about you? Anything interesting?"

„I work on a long-time project with wolfsbane potion and developed a cure for partial blindness. Have you ever thought of getting mastery in potions?"

„I plan to – together with transfiguration, herbology, maybe runes and after that, I plan to get my medical licence. I found out that you need to finish at least five years and twins finish school at the same time so I plan to get the masteries before that and after school get the licence."

„I can help you with the potion mastery preparation, even though I doubt you need it, Mr Bundy. I will tell you one thing – to get mastery in anything, you need to create something new and impressive. I think you should have no problem with that, am I correct?" I could only grin widely. „And just an addition – as long as you finished your first year, you can take any test in ministry after registering for one of the terms."

„Good to know. Thanks."

„Have a nice rest of the holiday, Mr Bundy. I'm thrilled to read your homework – I hope it has many gory details."

„Can't make it without them. Bye!" I'm not part of the gossip circle in Hogwarts but I know Hufflepuffs (who are the middle of the fucking circle) that would kill to know that Snape not only shops in muggle shops but apparently has even worse taste than Elizabeth (I never guessed a grown man would wear colourful underwear with PUNS on it).

Too many lost card games later we finally got to the carriages dragged by the cool horses – Thestrals, as I found out in my study of books about magical creatures. I don't remember seeing someone die, but from the information I gathered - my biological mother died in front of me. So maybe that's what counts?

„Are you excited about this year?"

„Why, Hermione?"

„Just because – last year was exciting, so I wonder what happens this time. Maybe a dragon will attack the Griffindor tower?"

„I could get you another troll and lock you up with – ouch!"

„Asshole."

„Thank you, but I'm not THAT hungry. Which reminds me of my house... do you think they would let me get resorted?"

„Flitwick would be happier than Snape – but I'm worried that Minnie would cry."

„Why?"

„Because you would end up in Slytherin?"

„She would like me green or red – as long as my brain stays as is. She even wrote me a letter in the summer, asking for another book about morbid transformations."

„First – since when do you land books to McGonagal? Second – where did you get that book?"

„I don't land her books – we EXCHANGE them. She has a brilliant taste in literature – I gained an invitation to her office to discuss books with her and the school matron. And I got it in a second-hand bookstore."

„I can't believe you. Why did you never tell us about it?"

„Never came to my mind, to be honest." I jumped out of the carriage and petted the bony horse.

„Are you into old ladies? Because - fist Minnie, then those ladies in embroidery club and now Pomfrey?"

„Truly a ladies man."

„I can't think if its worse this or the fact that they go crazy for him."

„Thank you, Hermione, at least someone cares about the creepier side. And no, I am NOT into old people."

„Sure Old Grump, we believe you," started George.

„-but the moment we find a big frilly bra in your trunk when we are trying to steal potion ingredients from you-"

„-we will hang it in the Great Hall and Minnie shall kill you with jealousy." I should have smothered them in their sleep. Even Hermione, who is usually trying to look mature and above our childish arguing is smirking behind her wild brown curls.

„He doesn't have only the attention of old ladies. Have you ever seen Snape?" Twins burst out laughing and those who heard event this last part collapsed too – we ruined her! „And even Quirell had a soft spot for him!"

I need to find new friends.

Lockhart. Just... Lockhart.

I wore my lab coat after the first and only night I'm willing to sleep in my dorms – the door was locked so no firsties wander around the first night in the castle. The Gray Lady told me that after I tried to get out more violently.

I wore it under my robes because I wanted to try out new runes sewn into it that made it possible to stuff almost everything in them (and everything after shrinking charm). Books, cauldron, notebooks, pens, vials, and many more. The only thing I wasn't sure about was the longevity of the spell – after all these runes are meant for sturdier or magically woven fabrics/materials.

The Great Hall was empty, not even teachers were willing to wake up at such an ungodly hour in the morning. School elves thankfully had no problem with morning birds like myself so soon after sitting at the Gryffindor table I had my steaming cup of Earl Grey and stack of pancakes covered in chocolate syrup. McGonagall was the first who entered the Hall and sat opposite me. „Good morning, Henry. Do you have your homework with you?"

Without even stopping eating I summoned it from my deeeeeep pocket and gave the disgusting coffee drinker my summer work. „Do I have a lesson today with you?"

„Yes, the first period. The second will be with professor Lockhart." That reminds me that Hermione owes me a skirt. „Here, I took one Ravenclaw timetable for you in the teachers' lounge." At least I have no need to meet Flitwick. Every win counts.

„Why do you people love history asthe first thing in the morning? That's... inhuman." Wednesdays are officially the worst – at least for this year.

„Says the student with hundred percent score," her eyebrow rose high above her smart glasses. „Which reminds me – congratulation. If you were nicer, you would get a prefect badge in your fifth year."

„Yeah, I can totally see fucking Flitwick pinning it to my chest." I rolled my eyes. „He would try to kill me with it or at least hurt me. I have a simple question – who forgot to give Dumbles his meds?"

„...what?"

„He hired a man who writes FICTION. Not even a good one, he writes about magic like someone who knows only basics! I bet my siblings could write about it better only after me talking about it here and there. Man can't just wrestle werewolf – maybe Hagrid, but I doubt he's fully human. And I'm not even salty about the skirt – I would wear it for the rest of my life If we had a decent teacher and not some fucking fucker!"

She looked confused. „I agree that professor Lockhart is not the best, but he was the only teacher available this year."

„Fucking hell..."

„And just to satiate my curiosity... skirt?"

„I made a bet with Hermione – I believed that the blond idiot couldn't possibly be a teacher material."

„He might surprise you?"

„Are you asking me?" I growled because her small smile was almost cruel.

„So, Henry, when do you have free time for two ladies?"

„Say time, I have no plans. I bet Snape can manage to move my detentions around so it works," I waved my hand. Not that I got any. Yet.

„Try to persuade him to join us if there is no wiggle-room. Severus has good taste in books. Little darker than most, which I appreciate."

„Obviously, you like MY taste."

Ravens and Hufflepuffs had DADA before lunch on Mondays, Griffins and Slytherins after. Herbology before that was easy and relaxing, Sprout was talking about Mandrakes and how they are used in potions, how to take care of them and the gardener if he's knocked out or worse – near dead (you can't take care of dead person). How I wished I was that stupid gardener because that would mean missing the Dreaded class.

I sat alone in the back, hidden behind the bright-haired duo of Hufflepuffs that were chatting with me about the horrible books. At least they were better than everyone in Ravenclaw – how can they call themselves house of smart and cunning if they can't see whats almost literally written in front of them?

After everyone was seated Lockart cleared his throat and picked up a random book from the unfortunate soul that ended in the front (worse – they looked happy to be near him). „Me," he pointed at his winking portrait on it and mirrored the action with a blinding smile. „Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award — but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" That cracked me up, but I was the only person in the class. I can believe that I feel my brain leaving through my ears! But my laugh made him smile more, so I tried to hide behind Susan and Hannah. "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books — well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in —" He handed out the papers and returned to his desk (I looked down, not willing to suffer again when he put the test on my desk slowly). „You have thirty minutes — start — now!"

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement

to date?

I turned it around in horror. And then looked at the second paper, containing the last question:

When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal

gift be?

I was too proud to do badly on a test, even though it was this degrading. Unfortunately, my mind can't be erased so I knew ALL THE ANSWERS. So I did it – muttering: „Fuck, fuck me, fuck my brains out through my ear so I can forget this fucking moment and all those horrible fucking books that should be fucking burned or dissolved in highly potent acid and then the sludge should be burned, ashes thrown into the fucking Atlantic and everyone should get the fucking Oblivate – it would me mercy to anyone with even a smidge of a fucking brain to forget those fucking books-" I heard giggles from Hannah and Susan but I ignored them and continued for the whole test and then put my forehead on my folded arms on the desk and bemoaned my future in soft hisses.

After half an hour later, the motherfucker collected his torture and went through them right in front of the class. „Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples — though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!" He winked in my general direction. I want to puke. Retching sounds left my throat because I answered everything. To be precise, I could have cited his own words how well I filled it out. „... but Mr Bundy knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions – good boy!" More retching, but he ignored me. „In fact – full marks! That is you, am I right?" He came to my desk, smiling like a shark that smelled blood. I nodded. „Excellent! Quite excellent! Twenty points to Ravenclaw!" He tried to ruffle my hair but I stopped him by blocking it with his own book. He took it in stride. „Well – to business –"

He pulled out a decently sized cage covered by a baby blue cover thrown over it. „Now — be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

The only not-calm person in the class was me – because I was red with rage that he tried to touch me.

„I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them." Is he aware he's not part of a circus? Then he pulled the cover off. „Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

I could only stare, but some snickered – nobody could mistake that for a sound of terror. „These are not dangerous creatures, are they, professor?"

„Of course they are! Devilish tricky little blighters they can be! Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage. The pixies shot in every direction, bringing havoc into the usually calm class of Hufflepufs and Ravenclaws. Two of them took Neville by the ears and lifted him up, some escaped through the window, started tearing books and parchment, threw sharp quills like darts, threw bags and books out of the broken window – thankfully I had everything in my lab coat and the only thing I had out was my pen which I used as a sword when one of those little fuckers tried to steal it from me. After endangering the creature's sight with the inky tip, they left me alone – before a new one tried to tug me up to the sealing.

„Come on now — round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted when I got free after killing the creature with my ‚accidental' magic. Nobody noticed. „ Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" It did nothing – as I expected from someone as incompetent as that idiot. The creatures even stole his wand and got rid of it – the teacher got under his desk with a scared expression. I would love if he jumped out of the window, following his useless wand.

When the bell rang, everyone rushed out of the class – I was unfortunate enough that I was the last who tried to leave. I hate getting pushed in crowds so it seemed better to wait for a second or two. „Henry, nip the rest of them into their cage!" He rushed past me and shut the door with too much strength. I could only stare with mouth wide open before I turned around and – „Diffindo! Diffindo! Diffindo!" I hissed angrily, cutting those creatures in half. Sometimes more than one were hit which made it quicker. I left, steaming in my anger and a bloody scene behind me.

„The boy is dangerous to those around him!" Flitwick argued with Dumbledore who was smiling at him kidly.

„Henry obviously knew no spell that would get them back into the cage-"

„He made a new spell even before he finished his first week in this school – he could figure it out! You should not defend a murderer!"

„They were just pixies, Filius," Minerva rolled her eyes.

„Have you heard the rumours that Lockhart thinks Henry is in love with him?" Sprout asked, almost killing Snape who was drinking his tea. She tried to help him by patting his back but only got glared at. Ungrateful bastard. „Young Henry laughed as the only one at his joke, got a perfect score and then went red when he praised him in front of the class!"

„I bet he was just angry," Minerva quirked her eyebrow. „And he gives perfect homework and test to Bins, so I doubt he would treat Lockhart differently."

„We were talking about his cruelty and in my opinion psychopathy – how did it turn into another round of gossiping and praising?" Nobody ever understood why the usually cheery professor turned into little Severus when Bundy-Potter was mentioned.

„He's a little cruel – I bet even he would say that and never hid his love for gore - it's no surprise to me. But as long as he keeps it to himself and some pest I see no problem. He even has a new pet raven and takes care of it – that should make it obvious he's not as bad as you believe he is," stepped Severus into the discussion sharply, throwing mental daggers at Filius. „That said, I want to make a bet that Lockhart will lose his delusion before Halloween."

„I say before the end of the week!" Pomona threw her own idea out with a wide smile.

„I think he will last longer. Maybe until Christmas," said Minerva, trusting Gilderoy's stupidity.

„I say until Valentine," grinned Dumbledore. Some people went pale with that though – ugh. Nobody can be that stupid... right?

The next class was even worse than the first – yes, not even I can believe it. He had not brought creatures to the class after the debacle with pixies, but he started to talk about his books, read parts of it, and the worst part – he wanted to reenact them. And my luck had it that he picked me to do it.

The fact that I was wearing a skirt made it even worse because it moved from the original idea that I would play some simple Transylvian villager who he ‚cured' from the Babbling Curse, he turned it into one of his many paragraphs where he saved pretty ladies from danger.

I kicked him in the nuts when he tried to touch me and stormed off.

Twins tried to lighten up my mood by pranking the man with colour-changing shampoos but the human peacock managed to look proud with a pastel pink hair on his disgusting mug. After that, we organised a small birthday party for Hermione, not even three weeks after the beginning of my personal torture. I gave her a book about more creative runes from Borgin and Burkes (not that I would tell her). Twins made for her some prank-biscuits so if she ever needed, she would have the possibility. Mum sent us a small cake that we split into four pieces and ate it, then we laid in our room, high on sugar but with stomachs too full to move.

They were not the only one who tried to put me into the better mood – Minerva (call me by my name in private or with friends around) and Poppy (who reminded me of my mother) invited me at least once a week for a cup of good tea and conversations about subjects filled with morbidity, dark humour and gore. Poppy also talked about her medical practise and that if I wanted, I could help after Quidditch plays, to practise my healing skills (of course I said yes!).

At the beginning of October, I was pushed into inviting Snape to our weekly meeting – I was instructed to use puppy-eyes and try at least twice before giving up – and to my shock, it worked. On the first try. He was happy to talk about books, but most times we planned how to get rid of Lockhart without anyone suspecting us. For some reason, Minerva was trying to calm us down even though she hated him as much as any reasonable person.

The next time I was pushed into acting, I was meant to play a vampire so I bit Lockhart hard enough to draw blood. But he only smiled and tried to feed me rabbit food. Despite that, this time he gave me detention. Minerva and Snape tried to take it from him, they said I'm a little difficult to deal with one on one and they would willingly take that burden on their shoulders – he resisted and put his foot down. I had a detention with him in the end and wanted to cry.

„Hello Henry," he smiled and winked at me when I arrived. „I wanted to talk with you about your behaviour. Are you aware that a celebrity like you should act differently?" A what? „Celebrities are like the aristocracy of the modern age - not arrogant, of course not, but should kind of above things. And kind, very kind and understanding. Not violent and rude – and language, that should be like buttery poetry flowing from your lips!"

„What the fuck are you talking about?"

„About your fame, of course! I have no idea why you keep it secret, it is an honour to be the Boy-Who-Lived!" I could only stare at him. What the fuck. „I can teach you the ropes because I myself am quite popular – you might have noticed!" He put his disgusting paw on my shoulder, smiling painfully wide. I could hear my blood and magic roaring in anger. „You might need some cosmetic changes, but you might make a pretty little hero-" he pushed my bangs back so my forehead was showing and then flew back. I was seething.

„Don't touch me, I'm not sssome toy to fondle!" I started to hiss out, like any time I get really angry.

„See? These things have to change – uncontrolled magic in your age is fully unacceptable! I can you everything I know –" he tried to touch me again, but this time I was faster and ran out of his class and hid in a secret passage few turns from his office, breathing heavily through my palm, trying to be silent. After a while, I calmed down but could still hear a silent voice hissing: „Rip...tear...kill...want to kill..."

The hissing raven

Chapter Notes

At least I procrastinate productively.

„I want to wear couples costume with Lockhart. I will be Jason and he a promiscuous teenager. Or I could be Hannibal and he would stay a rude asshole. So many possibilities but not enough alibi for my planned murder. It would be poetic to kill on the day of Halloween, wouldn't it?" I was sleepily dreaming about killing the worst teacher in the world, Harry purring on my chest while we were lounging on a couch in our room. A prank potion meant for the whole school was quietly brewing only a few metres from me and filling the air with calming potion stench – bitter but with sweet undertones of honey.

He purred harder when I scratched between his ears but hissed angrily when Hermione almost went through the door. „Henry! I found it!" She screeched happily and if Harry and myself were a little slower, we would end up as a Harry/Harry mush. „I found what the stone is!"

For a second I hadn't had a clue what she was talking about but then I understood. „Really?"

„Yes – I was reading up on different famous people in the wizarding world and found information about Nicolas Flamel and his wife. They created a Philosopher's stone in the 14th century, which is an ingredient for an immortality potion and CAN CHANGE METALS INTO GOLD PERMANENTLY!"

„The fuck?" I could only stare. Immortality? „I have THAT in my suitcase? Wait – why was it in the school? Behind such weak barricades?! What motherfucker thought of that!" I wasn't ever angry – not really. My shock was immeasurable. „Should we give it back?"

„I thought I would need to make you do that."

„I'm not that cruel – obviously they depend on that immortality and if I play my cards right, they could teach me something about potions."

„Alchemy, theoretically." I waved my hand because who cares (I should write Burkes if he has any books about it tho). „Wanna go to the feast?"

„Sure, I'm quite hungry," I took Harry with me and dumped him on Hermione's shoulders.

„Hey, you asshole!" She laughed and cuddled the ginger beast that hissed and bit her a little before settling down into her embrace. „I hope you weren't telling him again how you would like to murder Lockhart – I believe he is starting to embrace the idea that making blood flow is an acceptable thing to do thanks to that. He bit Levander enough to make her hand bloody!"

„Good boy."

„Henry!" She hit my shoulder. „I know she's annoying, but there is no need to be so cruel!"

„You pranked her just a week ago, moron."

„She told me I look like a road-kill bunny in the morning – and twins encouraged me to prank her to feel better."

„Did it help?"

„Yes-"

„Kill... want to kill... so hungry... prey..."

„Can you hear that?" I furrowed my brows because unlike other times it sounded too echoey to be in my head.

„What?"

„Hissing." I recognized the snakey hiss – I learned how to after I found out I could understand and speak to snakes (and couldn't at first recognise it from English). „Like leaking gas or a snake." I detoured from our route to the Great Hall and went up the stairs into the second-floor. Harry jumped out of her embrace and ran in front of us, stopping in front of a water puddle.

„What is this?" Hermione muttered and looked around – before doing a scared sound when she looked up. I looked up too to see. There was the body of Mrs Norris hanging by her tail from a torch, stiff in her dead state – so it's more than a few minutes from the moment she died. I wonder who lost their cool – and how it was probably first-year because even I managed to control myself. „The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware."

„Hermione, I believe we should get away from here." She nodded and grabbed my hand, so I dragged her because of my longer legs behind be when we ran towards the Great Hall – crashing into a flock of black robes, who just finished their diner. „Fuck."

Before Dumbledore arrived at the scene, Filch tried to strangle me and Hermione, altering between us when one got away from him. We hid behind Minerva who stood behind the old wizard with a stone mask on her face - I'm so used to her smiling it shocked me for a millisecond. „We did nothing," I told her.

„Bad thing you have a reputation," she muttered but smiled slightly at us. „Why did try to run away from here?"

„We knew it would look bad if we were the one's who found her – you know, I have a reputation of a sadistic motherfucker."

„Argus, Miss Granger, Mr Bundy, come with me, please," said the bearded man, before Lockhart jumped into it with: „My office is nearest, Headmaster — just upstairs — please feel free—"

„Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore. So we went into the fucker's office where there was more than one blond looking at us with stupid white smiles that disgusted me – more so if they stared at me. Dumbledore stared at the dead cat for too long so I managed to get a good look myself.

„Why is her fur not moving?" I noticed.

„It was definitely a curse that killed her — probably the Transmogrifian Torture — I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her. . . ."

„There is no change in her shape which torture with such a name would leave," I jumped into his rambling with narrowed eyes. „Also there is no wound or sign of fight – and her stiffness shows she was killed at least twelve hours back. Which is my and Hermione's alibi that nobody obviously needed – we were in Gryffindor tower since yesterday until classes."

„Mr Bundy, there is only a small error in your deduction - she's alive."

„What?" said everyone.

„She has been Petrified – but I don't know how."

„Ask HIM!" Filch screamed and pointed at me. „He killed those pixies – he obviously took a liking to killing poor innocent creatures!"

„If I liked killing innocent, I would never kill that stinky cat, you stupid cretin," I hissed at him angrily but Severus stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

„Calm down, Henry. You're only making it worse."

„Argus, no second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. „It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced —"

„Flitwick said he could do anything – that he's worse than He-Who-"

„Argus!" This time it was Minerva who looked angry.

„Petrified? How do you know it was dark magic and not a potion or some magical artefact? Does Magical World have Medusas?" The last one was rhetorical though but it was ironically the first answer I got.

„No, we don't have Medusas. There are some creatures that can petrify their prey but none can get through the school's protection. I know not about any potions that could do this – there are some that make all the muscles stiff but they always kill the drinker. So I think a spell is the most probable." I nodded, appreciating his decently informative answer.

„Henry, where were you during the Halloween feast?" Minerva asked.

„I was scheming with Harry in one of the vacant classrooms when Hermione found me to drag me into the Great Hall for a supper." Not one pair of eyes bulged out at the Harry part. „It's Hermione's cat. She named him after my nickname that dad and mom call me – for some reason she thinks we are alike."

„Cute and grumpy," Hermione grinned at me.

„Shut the fuck up."

„And why did you go to the second floor, if you were going to the Great Hall?"

„We were descending from the seventh," I lied without thinking. „Then Harry ran towards the girls' bathroom while mewing so we went after him, interested what he found. Last time it was a dead mouse and Hermione hates when he eats meat." Partial truth, she only hated when I tried to feed him Ronald's living rat. „So, will it be possible to heal her using Mandrake?"

„Yes, that's my plan, Mr Bundy. Five points to Ravenclaw," headmaster smiled with a weird twinkle in his bright blue eyes. Who doesn't know that?

„I want him to be punished!"

„He's innocent, Argus – we will find who did it, no worry. Now go, you deserve some sleep after this – into your own bed, Mr Bundy."

„No chance."

„Severus, Minerva, would you be so kind and got these two to their respective rooms?"

„Yes – come, Miss Granger. I'm sure twins are interested in what happened." She put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and slightly manoeuvred her to the Griffindor Tower. Snape grabbed my upper arm because I almost managed to get away.

„At least this time – try to cooperate, Henry. You don't want more angry attention. And sleeping in different dorms is very much not allowed. Let alone sleeping with other students."

„It's not like we have sex with each other, you know? And we slept in the same room and sometimes in the same bed more than enough to know it's safe."

„Hm?"

„We spent three weeks in total together in the summer. And when we were at my house, we were crammed in a tent. They treat me like a shared teddy bear slash pillow since. Especially in the Weasly house where I was forced to sleep in the same room as Ronald and if I dragged the mattress to the twins or Percy's room the bitch would get it back. So I slept with Fred, who is the easiest to get off me."

„So his justification why his hand looks so chewed up was true?"

„Yes, he indeed calls me his bite-alarm-clock."

After I got into the dorm and settled on my bed (not planning to stay, I was waiting for Snape to get lost) and started to do my homework, silently scratching transfiguration theory about how to properly make a live object inanimate without killing it in the process. I was in fact so nice that everyone must have thought I was planning something (I have no other explanation besides that they hate my guts) because they attacked me before I managed to say fuck.

I was carried out, bound and gagged and left in the common room in that uncomfortable situation. Some older students saw it but only laughed at me – my wand was on my bed and my roommates got their hands on spells that can be dispelled only physically so no wandless magic for me. Fucking hell! I laid like that long after everyone got to their bed, red with anger and frustration. I was restless, my magic was screaming and blood boiling, my inner voice hissing how good it would feel to rip those motherfuckers apart.

„Did Wrackspurts go through your ears really fast?" I opened my eyes – there was a small girl with big grey eyes squatting in front of me. I tried to scream at her through the magical gag – is it invisible? I tried to show her that I'm bound and thankfully she understood. „Uh," she huffed after her fingers met the rope that was rubbing my arms raw. After some manoeuvring she finally found the knot and loosened it enough for me to get out – I took the gag out myself before getting into a hissing temper tantrum. „My Nargles steal my things – I never heard that they would bound someone."

„I don't know what Nargles are – my roommates did that to me. What are Nargles?"

„They are kleptomaniac spirits that always steal my homework, clothes but most often shoes," she pulled back her robe to show her bare feet. The fact that they are not blue shows she knows warming charms. „And today they stole all my pillows and blankets so I couldn't get comfortable."

„What is your name?" I recognise bullying when I see one – I lived with it most of my life.

„Luna Lovegood."

„Henry Bundy – you went here to read, right?"

„Yes, would you like to join me?"

The next morning there were two Ravenclaws sitting with Griffins, one sleepily smiling and the other with rope-burns (that just wouldn't heal) under his sleeves.

The first Quidditch match of the season was between Slytherin and Griffindor. I sat next to Poppy, Luna on my other side whispering with Hermione about how people on brooms remind her of baby Thestrals who are learning to fly.

I was watching the game so I could react how I was asked – save falling players, try to see even the smallest hit to later ask the player how much it hurt. It was kind of fun to have my attention stretched in so many directions. The Slytherins were fun to watch with their new brooms and dirty tactics. One of my classmates, Malfoy, was their new seeker and obviously a hundred times better than the Griffindor one. I have no idea how he sees anything through the rain, I'm dry and under an umbrella spell but I still can't see very well.

„The Buldger seems a little restless today, the beaters on both teams have obvious problems to keep them away-" Lee screamed through the cacophony of sounds into a microphone. I really don't like that part of Quidditch, his comments suck most of the time if not all the time. Then I saw it before I heard him scream: „Weasly was hit!"

I couldn't see which one it was but the other caught him, slowly helping him to get down. Hooch stopped the game and stopped the Buldger in its way before it managed to hit a Slytherins seeker. She got away with an unbroken nose.

I ran down the stairs, closely followed by Poppy, Luna, Hermione and some teachers. Thankfully I got to him first, because I could see Lockhart approaching Fred with his stupid smile that always makes me seeth in anger. „ If there isss any lasssting damage, thisss isss the lassst time you are playing – do you underssstand?!" I hissed at him before scanning him for all injuries. Poppy came when I got the results – broken forearm, bruised chest he was protecting with the now-injured limb, two cracked ribs and strained muscles when he held himself on the broom through the acceleration of a mad Buldger.

„Come on mommy, it's an only broken arm," he wheezed with a strained smile. I hit his cheek lightly enough not to move his face but hard enough for it to sting. People were shocked by that. I set his bones into their proper place with my pure magic and then started the healing process, this time with my wand. Poppy was watching this, not intruding my process (because she knew I can do it quicker than her). It was straining for someone with average or smaller magic core but I got only slightly dizzy for a minute or two, because of the shock of losing half of my magic.

„Stand back, young Henry, I can take care of your friend-" he touched my shoulder and I couldn't move because it would nullify my spells so I only gritted my teeth and tried to ignore him.

„Herny is good at mending bones, let him work," Poppy stepped into it and got him and his wand away.

I was glad I was dragged out by my friends (and that Poppy followed) – I can only wonder what that idiot would do to him.

I heard about the duelling club from Snape who told me during one of my numerous detentions given by Flitwick. It was started because there was a student petrified the night after the first Quidditch match. Everyone says it was done by Slytherin's monster – which I doubt, I would bet that somebody found an interesting book with ‚dark' spells and curses sometime during the summer holidays – and now they are trying them out.

Even though these were my thoughts, I asked: „Can Slytherin's monster duel?"

„I doubt so," he smirked, „but it might prove to be useful in the future."

„Who teaches it?"

„I'm one of the teachers."

„Oh, then the second is Flitwick - he's master dueler, isn't he? Horrible person, but he might show us at least something useful – it would be the first time he might teach me something. I still can't find anything about duelling, only the basic traditions and types of duels." He continued smirking and gave me only shrug.

„Dueling is a practical task so there are almost no books – maybe in some ancient family's library. But I doubt that. Most learn it from their parents or take additional courses the school offers for seventh years."

So, I was interested in the club and probably would go there even if nobody else would – however, I was almost carried there by over-joyed twins who looked too happy to go to a DUELING CLASS. Hermione only rolled her eyes at them. Luna was waiting for us and caught my arm in a hug – I tried to get her off but she's stronger than she looks.

„I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione, her face too happy to not know. Did someone tell her too?

„I wonder," singed George.

„I wonder," huffed Fred, throwing his arm around my shoulders. They had me pinned when Gilderoy Lockhard walked onto the stage, his robes deep plum and with gloomy Snape close behind him. If I was free, I would curse him (for once Snape, not the blond ponce).

„I hate you all."

„Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions — for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape! He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry — you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" I hope this was a ploy to get me to see how he hurts him because if Severus lets him go out of here without bruises I promise I shall tell everyone about his love for comic books (and underwear with pictures from them). At least he looked furious that Lockhart is belittling his capabilities.

The started with bows to the other – one did it like a peacock and the other shortly with his head. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. Just like in books. „As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. „On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

Well, hope dies last.

„One — two — three —" Both attacked, but Snape's Expelliarmus was too quick for Lochart – the scarlet light hit the blond square in the chest and blasted him off his feet. He smashed into the wall with force, making me smile widely. My happiness leaked away when he showed signs of life. At least his ‚perfet' hair was ruined by the flight and he looked dazed. „Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm — as you see, I've lost my wand — ah, thank you, Miss Brown — yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy — however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see . . ." Snape looked murderous, but boy can only hope. „Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me —"

They paired people off, not caring if they wanted to get split from their friend or not. „Mr Weasley, you can partner up with Miss Burkham there-" Snape pointed at a Hufflepuff girl and waited until George went there. „Mr Weasley, go to Mr Malfoy. Miss Granger, Lovegood, you pair up together. Henry, I think I have a great partner for you," he turned around with his robes billowing and I followed him.

„A second-year?" I recognised Marcus Flint, a Quidditch captain that was easily twice my size and physical strength. He reminded me of Fridrich. „I expected you would come here with one of those twins."

„I believe that Henry is a bigger challenge – or danger, to be precise."

„I'm harmless."

„Yeah, and you don't bite. Do your best, you two, but try not to maim or kill."

„No promises."

„Go fuck yourself, rules are for pussies!"

„Good luck."

I turned to the bigger boy, looking him up and down to assess his speed and flexibility. I saw him fly just a few days back so I know he's more of a heavy hitter that quick. „Can we start?"

„Sure, shortie." He grinned toothily and walked away just to turn around and wait. I never took my eyes off him and walked back while watching him. We nodded at each other before whipping our wands. He started to count: „One – two – t – " we fired at the same time but I managed to move aside from the cutting curse. He got a full blast from my overpowered stinging hex that would cause big bruises on his sternum. I fired a binding curse but he blocked it and rapidly fired two spells I didn't know and one Expelliarmus. I moved into the trajectory of the only one I knew and blocked it, fell on my front to escape laughing hex and managed to bind his legs with ropes. He stumbled and before he could charm them away I cut his cheek. Then we blocked and moved away from too many spells to count before I got hit in my shoulder. It threw my balance off and I fell onto the floor. But that wasn't the end so I threw blasting and bone-breaking curses at him (and the blasting was aimed for his feet). He moved aside but the small explosion threw him off so I managed to hit him again although he still almost cut my arm off with a nasty hex that thankfully only went through my bicep. I gritted my teeth in a snarl and did a quick spell that closed the injury with a burning feeling. It would leave a scar – not that I mind.

„I said disarm only!" Lockhart yelled at us.

„I heard nothing about disarming only." For once I was telling the truth. I ignored what he was yelling on the other side of the hall even before the duel.

„I allowed them to duel fully – they are above the usual level so I personally invited them to see how they would do." Snape, my hero!

„O-ok." I was worried he would take it as an invitation to give me another detention with him to ‚coach' me how to be a celebrity and get touchy-feely with me. I looked around – almost everyone stopped with their duelling and were looking at us. Well, twins were fencing with their wands in their right hands and stolen ones' in left.

„I think the next thing I should teach you is how to block unfriendly spells. Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"

„A bad idea, Professor Lockhart, Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." If he was that cool, I think Neville would be still friends with me (and not such a pussy – who cries when somebody is worried about their health?). „How about Flint and Bundy? They both know how to do it so they are the best to show others."

„Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing us into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room. „Now, Henry," said Lockhart. „When-"

„I know how to block a spell. Protego is quite basic."

„Ok, so - Three — two — one — go!" he shouted.

Flint and I again threw our spells before the GO sound. I cut his thigh but he used an unknown spell, again. I should start to read into fighting spells more. „Serpensortia!" A long black snake shot out of the end of his wand.

„How am I supposed to block a snake?" I muttered, unheard through the screaming. It was angry, hissing at anyone who walked near it.

„Henry don't-!" Snape yelled when I went near it.

„Calm down, you were summoned by a total fool. There is no need to hiss at those loud idiots," I calmed it down and squatted next to it, allowing my arm as a climbing branch.

„Thank you for telling me, speaker," it hissed, calmer. It slithered on me, going around my shoulders.

„That was dirty, Marcus. However, I think I won this one because I ‚blocked' it better than you," I smiled at the shocked teen. „What?" Everyone was staring.

Christmas Sweater

I was used to bullying before I started to attend Hogwarts, although nothing could compare to masses of teenagers with deadly weapons in their pockets. In my opinion, wands are a superior version of a gun (which I was forbidden to touch, even if it contained plastic balls or paintball-ammunition).

I thought that speaking to animals would be a gift more so than a curse – however, I was wrong (because people are as stupid as always). I wasn't the only thing thrown out of my dorms – this time my trunk flew with me down the staircase and someone managed to pursue the fucking statue that told riddles that I was forbidden from entering even the common room. I told no one, of course, and hidden all my stuff in our Room. I could do nothing to Luna's bullies so they became crueller, bolder. I wanted to rip their throats out and study their bodies for the good of science.

Galileo was not once, but twice shot with a nasty spell while flying outside – I heald him and managed to persuade him to spend most of his time with my family – Marie spoiled him like any other animal so he wouldn't be neglected.

He wasn't the only one who was shot with spells on sight – I couldn't go through a crowded corridor without limping away from it. One asshole burned part of my hair and another cut part of my robes off (I protected them better with runes after that fucking ‚ accident'). Thankfully, most people only left bruises, which was fine. If Hermione walked in those groups of students with me, they would lay low (maybe they saw her as innocent). If Luna tried to talk my ear off about one of her creatures, they would go soft on her (she might be called Loony but she is still a first-year). Twins would get full blows, even though their retaliation was worse than the attack (why do so many people have fucking smooth brains?).

Most often I would find myself alone – twins and Luna were in different school-years and Hermione shared a bare minimum of classes with me. Susan and Hannah tried to sometimes shield me but they were ignored – they wanted to tell Sprout but I knew nobody would take it seriously. Teachers never believed I could be bullied, quite the opposite. Most thought I was the one who bullied other children (even though they were a lot older than me). It's not my fault Fridrich had an unfortunate tendency to beat up anyone who tried to hurt me.

‚Hungry, so hungry,' a hissing voice led me to the second floor again, when I heard the now incredibly familiar name of a burning curse. I ducked but got hit anyways – they expected my natural reaction, so this is not their first time. Thankfully most of my things are resistant to fire damage (being pyromaniac doesn't mean I like to buy new stuff to replace the burned ones) so it only burned as hot water would if one spilt a tea on himself (I know that from experience). I scrambled to my legs and started to run.

„Don't run, you slimy snake!"

„Fuck you! Fuck you!" A cutting spell hit the back of my shoulder. „Fuck! Fuck!" Most of my clothing is reinforced because of THIS so it didn't hurt me as much as it should – but few centimetres up and my head would not be as tightly screwed on as it is supposed to. I tried to get away through small hidden pathways but they managed to keep up with me. I wasn't expecting a familiar face to save me – I was mostly expecting he would cooperate with those cock-suckers behind me. Thankfully Marcus' wand wasn't pointed at me when he fired some unknown spell at them.

„Find someone your own size," he frowned his unibrow threateningly at them, muscular arms folded over his chest. Without a hint of shame, I hid behind him. After they ran away in fear of the big boy, he told me: „You shouldn't walk around alone."

„Like it changes anything – they are still assholes who would attack me, just add my friends into the mix." I got from behind him, straightening my rumpled layers.

„They were Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff – why does your own house attack you?"

„They attacked me even before – and I hated them since the first week in Hogwarts. Thanks for the help!" He caught my wrist when I tried to walk away.

„You look horrible."

„Thank you, you too," I deadpanned and tried to pry his hands off my bony joint. „Where are you dragging me?"

„You need to tell a teacher-"

„No teacher ever helped me with bullying." He stopped and looked at me. This was the first time I saw a badge on his robes. Fucking prefect...

„What?"

„I was bullied ever since I started to visit a school – kids like to do that to smart people, for some reason. And neither of us knows those idiots, so what can we even do?"

„Snape could at least help you with the fact you obviously aren't sleeping."

„I will today – I never sleep two days in a row. And yesterday was my awake-night."

„That's – well – and where do you sleep?"

„Abandoned classroom. My dorms are unsafe and even Griffins are cross with me because of the snake thing. Which is your fault, technically speaking."

„Everyone is stupid - aren't you mudblood?" Ok, ignore that part about ‚it's your fault'. I'm not salty – not at all.

„Adopted, but raised by muggles. Shouldn't you hate me for that, as a true Slytherin?" I raised a sarcastic eyebrow and he grinned. Nice to see another person who enjoys my great humour.

„You are too talented to be mudblood, Bundy. They treat you like a snake so you can find peace in the snake den, don't you think?"

„Why are you so nice?"

„Even if you are not the one who petrifies people, you are still the heir – that is enough to warrant association with you."

„If you're tricking me, I will release twins on your ass."

„Deal."

And that's how I befriended Slytherins – not all of them, but more people than in any other house. I used their delightful sofa and sometimes stole beds from those who prefered company while falling asleep. They used me as a book that held all the knowledge they needed – and didn't even mind when I called them stupid for not knowing basic facts. Severus walked on me and ten 7th years making homework and could only stare because they were so stupid I was forced to dictate why non-verbal casting is so difficult.

„What-"

„The fuck?" I tried to help while munching on a bar of chocolate which was a payment for help with runes homework. Hufflepuffs never give me things when I help.

„It's after the curfew – why are you here?"

„I'm helping with their homework. McGonagall says that this week she can't come, but Poppy is still free – so, will you join us?"

„Bundy, we told you you can't just break the rules."

„So no sleeping in Corvus's bed? He promised me he would-" Corvus' girlfriend put her hand on my mouth, red as freshly spilt blood.

„You are supposed to sleep in your OWN BED!"

„...Nah, I prefer this," I said after biting her hand. „You can give me detention!" I knew he couldn't hit me with a spell, so I was confident in my capability of hiding from him if necessary. But Marcus came to my rescue, whispered something to the potions teacher and my ass was saved.

„I won't be as nice next time, Henry. Detention, tomorrow at seven."

„You should tell him," Marcus told me after he stole a piece of my chocolate.

„Go fuck yourself."

Henry was the first in our group who knew Luna was bullied, however after showing a big portion of the school that he can speak to snakes he had too many of his own problems to really take care of the smaller raven. That and his friendship with her made it even worse for her – first it was the fact that they hated his guts just because of himself but now – now they found a reason beyond ‚He's annoying.'. Now they thought he was the Slytherin's heir, that he was the one attacking muggle-born students. Nobody thought about the fact his family was very much NOT magical.

So George and myself decided to help her – although I wanted to help HIM first. She needed it more. Henry can take care of himself.

George tried to be at her side as often as he could and I watched her and people around her on the Map. Most of her bullies were girls from Hermione's and Henry's year – but her roommates stole from her most often. We pranked them mercilessly but it didn't help at all. To avoid detention or expulsion, we stopped ourselves from going into the Ravenclaw tower with wands blazing. But what would be another way to help her?

Then it hit me – we could go to some authority. Not Flitwick, because god knows how he would act around a friend of Henry's in that situation. He never adored us but after we started to hang out with the young raven he started to ignore us. Maybe Snape or McGonagall? They would probably try to help, but to what extent would they succeed? They could only make it worse because they don't know those Ravens that well. What is another possibility?

…Percy. He dates a Ravenclaw prefect and he himself always hated bullying. He was happy to help and not only because of that – we were really nice to him that summer (after seeing Henry's siblings and how they always tried to make him angry, we felt bad for Percy who was in the raven's place and we were those annoying siblings - it's worse when you see it from a different point of view) which means only a nice plead was enough for him to help us. We gave him names and his girlfriend managed to get those fucking girls into so many problems they wished Henry was the one to deal with their behaviour (death is often less cruel).

At least it looked like it before their head of house stepped in and saved their asses from the worst punishments. I was truly starting to hate Flitwick as much as Henry does. He was almost as bad as Lockhart – the only plus he had was the lack of touchiness. I was increasingly getting worried (not that Henry said more than some angry growling about too many hair-ruffles and forced hugs). Any detention with the young raven was handled by Snape (not even McGonagall could handle him – she assigned him lines to write and ended up with a paper filled with 'Go fuck yourself' from the top to the bottom in Henry's unreadable chicken scratch), however, Lockhart would never give up detentions he gave Henry (because of stupid reasons, like not paying attention in his class even though he knew the correct answer to any question the writer had for him).

Well, it meant we were on square one and Henry finally convinced Luna to sleep in our room. He wasn't sleeping there as often as he used to – obviously, he found a better place for his back but he was secretive where it was. I know he wasn't sleeping in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor and I doubt Susan or Hannah would find him as cute as we do. There was the possibility of Slytherin because he started to talk with some older years recently – but why would they house him?

„Fred," George bumped into me before potions. „dad wrote that mum is making sweaters for everyone – bar Henry." My jaws started to hurt with the power of my teeth-grinding.

„He's the only one who willingly wears those things!" I took the letter and skimmed it quickly. „Why is she such a bitch?" I muttered under my breath. George laughed.

„Henry is rubbing off on you, brother of mine. We can give him ours?"

„It's not that - it's the thought, not the gift itself. He's our best friend – and nothing against them – but Hermione and Luna will get theirs and not him?"

„If you say it like that... we can make him one!" His eyes shined with crazy excitement. I worry someone will end up pierced through by a knitting needle. „There is a spell for that, isn't it?"

A few hours later we found out that yes – there really is a spell but it works off of existing muscle memory and it just repeats the cycle. So you need to know how to knit on your own. And there were no books about knitting. We asked Hermione and she knew how to croche – we were clueless about the difference so we tried it. And found out that that specific spell needs two needles.

We managed to deconstruct the old spell and made a new one for crocheting – the final product was still ghastly but we made a piece of clothing! Through Hermione's parents, we bought white wool for most of the sweater (the colour choice was inspired by his beloved labcoat) and light brown for a bastardized silhouette of a potion bottle – we wanted to make it personalized and were cocky, thinking we could make something as complex as a shape of any kind. Luna had the easiest job of us all – she laughed at our failures and never praised our successes (is it part of being Ravenclaw?).

It was a joined gift from the three of us but we prepared small things on our own – but those we packaged, this one we wanted to give him personally and see how he looked in it (before he burned holes into it). I was picked as the one who would give it to him so I was the poor soul that stuttered through apologies why it's not perfect under his sharp gaze (he was obviously confused what I'm talking about but I know that now, not then). George and Hermione would probably be even worse.

What I liked was that I was the first to see his shocked and then quietly happy look when he squeezed the plush piece of clothing in his spidery hands and a rare blush came to his cheeks (rare in the sense that he was far from angry). „Thank you – there was no need to make me one if your mother is a bitch," he said with his usual monotone voice but the look was still on his face.

How can he be so cute?

Calm before Storm

Everyone thought there was something wrong with me when I fell asleep in the car on the way home and continued that activity throughout the whole night. Someone carried me to my bed and I woke up with the sun. I was just surprised I lived for so long – the last time I slept was four days before the end of school. I wanted to see how long I would last (that and I couldn't get to Slytherin dorms nor could I squeeze on the couch with Luna – she looks more like a starfish than a human when she sleeps).

I was reading a book about offensive and defensive charms when mum came into the kitchen. "Get off the counter, Harry. Do you want breakfast?"

"Yes," I ignored her request but put my feet down so they dangled in the air. "If you remember correctly I was banned from using knives and anything that can make fire. It's a little difficult to make eggs with those restrictions."

"With bacon?"

"Sure," I shrugged and finished a chapter. Why are shields such a boring topic?

"Ms Teddy needs help with her TV. Again."

"Did she turn it on and off?"

"Yes, even I can tell her that. She said you could come by today after lunch. She has chocolate chip cookies."

"She uses bad chocolate," I wrinkled my nose and sipped my tea. Thank gods for electric kettles, before my ban we had a kettle that you put on a burner and wait until it pierces through the ear-drums. It was THE reason why I almost ‚burned the house down'. Pfff, it was just a minor little flame. „But sure, at least I get out of the house."

„How was school?"

„Did you become illiterate and nobody reads you my letters?" I raised my eyebrow.

„You talked mostly about classes and pranks your twins do – but nothing more than a name of your new friend. What is she like?"

„She's either batshit crazy or can see more than I can – but she's smart and the only reasonable Ravenclaw."

„Why didn't you befriend her sooner?" I can see she bit her tongue with a retort to my comment about sight. Everyone knows my eyes are sub par.

„She's a first-year. She recommended me books about magical creatures – the common volumes don't talk about more exciting types. Like vampires – Stoker must have known about magic because the similarity is kind of scary otherwise." She smiled while I talked. „But there are blood-banks for them so they don't really need to kill people. I wonder how their digestive system works – why can't they get nutrients from food? Is something wrong with their body chemistry so they need a liquid diet?" I continued my rhetorical questions until I got my breakfast.

„And how about the teacher you were talking about before school? The writer?" she asked after a slice of bacon silenced me up.

„Horrible, but what can I do," I omitted the truth without batting an eye. She and Dad could probably do something about his... Lockhartness, but I don't want to be called tattle-tale again. I tried THAT approach the first time someone beat me up and it brought me only problems. The best strategy I found was trying to ignore, run away.

A bunch of owls came pecking to our kitchen window – mum let them in and I was the poor person who was forced to work with those feather-brains. Two attempts at murder later there were four big packages, which contained a small mountain of fancily wrapped gifts – most of them were palm-sized or book-shaped and all of them carried the name of a Slytherin student.

"' We hope you will enjoy your Yule, Slytherin heir.'"

"Mom, don't-" I tried to take it from her but she was better at dodging then I expected.

"' No worry about giving us gifts back, it is a tradition in Slytherin to give something small to someone with such a worthy ancestor.' An ancestor? Slytherin heir? What else were you keeping from me, son?"

"I acquired a group of slaves and they call me heir of Slytherin." Her look showed what she thought of my jokes, scarily similar to my resting bitch face. "People found out that I can talk to snakes – just like Salazar Slytherin, the co-founder of Hogwarts. So they call me heir of Slytherin."

"So you made more than one new friend!" she smiled, taking one of my gifts and unwrapped it – there was a chocolate frog in it. "What is that?"

"Chocolate frog that acts like a real animal – it croaks, jumps and such. Not for long, and if it jumps once it looses most of the magic that animates it. There are also cards that some collect with famous people on them." She opened it and I caught it when she shrieked.

"That's weird."

"Better than an oversweetened pumpkin juice. Or blood-pops." I gave the subdued chocolate to her back and after a long moment, she bit its head off.

"It's good chocolate."

„That's why they feed them to me as a payment for helping with their fucking studies," I shrugged and opened one of the books. ‚The deadliest poisons in the magical word' made me put down a book about fighting in an instant. I had a hope I would pick it up from my lap after breakfast but that naive thinking jumped off a motherfucking cliff.

„Shouldn't you wait for Christmas to open your gifts?"

„You opened one first, hypocrite."

„Touché." And then she stole another package shaped like the box containing chocolate frogs.

I did most of my homework before lunch, stuffed myself full to the brim and went to Ms Teddy. She was an older woman that couldn't write a text message to save her life. I met her when I was nine and she asked dad if he could help her with her new fridge. He was capable of putting it into electricity and then turn it on – but it blew a fuse and Gregor Bundy is many things, but not a manually talented man. Mum is better but electricity is not her expertise either. Somehow I ended as the scapegoat and re-arranged all her appliances to make it work with her out-dated electrical circuit. Few months later they made me help her install her TV and make all stations easily available.

I became a handyman paid with cookies.

I knocked at her door and waited few minutes before she finally reached the door. „Hello, Henry."

„Is it still broken?" I ducked around her to her living room, almost tripping on one of her cats.

„Yes, your mum told me to turn it on and off but it was still grainy and the colour was disappearing all the time!"

I turned it on and off again because she is stupid enough to mess up even that – but like she said, it was still fucked. So I turned it off fully by pulling the cord out of the outlet, put it in and turned the TV on again. Nothing. I turned around, grinned at the waiting lady and hit the old box harshly. She shrieked but after some hitches, it started to work as well as such an antique could.

„That wasn't nice!"

„Well, it worked, didn't it?"

„I guess so – would do like cookies for your effort?"

„Sure," I shrugged, burrowed my hands in jean pockets and went into her kitchen that smelled like honey and good chocolate. I was delighted to taste better chocolate than usually.

Unlike last year I brought my gifts down and willingly opened them with the rest of my family (so many sleep hours are ruining me). Even though everyone still annoyed me I felt safer than in school halls.

It took me a long time to get through the gift hoard from my snake friends so I enslaved the blonds. Which meant I lost a big chunk of my chocolates and surprisingly a book about magical paintings and photographies. Sometimes I forget Elizabeth can read – her grades tell me otherwise.

I got a fluffy blanket for our room, clothes (because I was already outgrowing my closet) and books. Quite a normal haul for me. If one doesn't count the fact that those new clothes were picked by Marie so I ended up with flannel shirts (I didn't mind as they were comfortable and soft but bitched about it anyway).

„How did you know I picked them?"

„It's fucking obvious, you idiot – I found your ‚secret' box filled with pictures of a half-naked buff man, mostly in flannel shirts." The corner of her eye started to tick. And I haven't even started about the condoms!

„Where do you find the time to snoop in my things?"

„When you sleep, mostly," I said honestly and ducked from the trajectory of a thrown ball of wrapping paper. Our younger siblings were snickering together with Fridrich, our parents rolled their eyeballs so much it looked painful. „This time I was waiting for a potion to cool off enough for me to add honey."

„Honey?"

„Fred and I were experimenting with sweetening potions so they are a – tastier and b – so they are easier to add to candy."

„Did it work?" Asked Ludvik.

„With some potions, it does – those who consist mostly of plant-based ingredients. I need to buy few packages of sugar for further experimentation before going to Hogwarts."

Then I opened a gift from Luna. It was a wooden box with a letter taped to the lid.

‚We planned this with Hermione so if you unpackaged her gift first then this is the thing you can play it on (it should work with muggle ones too).' Very nice – I still have no idea what is she writing about. Only Luna.

After inspection, I figured out it was a CD-player that looked more like a tape recorder. I found Hermione's gift shortly after that (and made a mess because I looked for it without care) – it was a CD from a magical rock band Weird Sisters. I turned it on and turned the volume down so we continued making a mountain of colourful paper (but now, with background music). I got ten vials of gnome blood – good, I needed that for my experimental pesticide – and a little box filled with prank-candy from twins.

The last present for me was wrapped in colourful paper that was obviously magical. I had a feeling I knew who sent it to me – and after partially opening it I tried to hide it under my new blanket I threw over me in an effort to stay warmer. Elizabeth managed to steal it (she got quicker, the bitch) and ripped it open with a wide grin. I couldn't stand up as I was assaulted by Marie who sat on my lap.

„Thief!"

„Pot, meet kettle," Fridrich stuck his tongue on me (I used to steal toy-cars from him when we were children, to take them apart). They weren't in such an obviously good mood when a pleated skirt fell out of the package.

Fucking Lockhart. I know it was him – after all he was the only one who brought it up multiple times (mainly during my detentions with him). It could be Hermione who since then tried to make bets with me at least five times but she would choose pink or red – not green.

„What?" came from their mouths.

„It must be a joke," I lied through my teeth, shrugging. Most of them bought it – however, mother and Marie looked suspicious. They were always the best in knowing if I were honest.

„Wanna try something?" Fridrich and Marie grinned at me through the half-open door of my room. They had coats on which meant they wanted to drag me out.

„Define how much it would hurt."

„Not at all," Fridrich grinned wider and for a second showed me a cigarette box hidden in his jacket. „Wanna go?"

I didn't want to, but I kind of did? It's weird not seeing them on a daily basis – not like I miss them – but I want to go out with them to smoke cigarettes, behind our parents back. „Sure. Is anybody going to join us?" I left my lab coat on but pulled my winter robes out of my closet – they were the ‚moder cut' option that dad wanted me to get, so it looked like a normal coat (it started as a floor-length, so now it looks a lot more modern). Why have two or more muggle and magical winter garments when I can have one multipurpose?

„No, just us – I think Eli and Lud are too young for this," Fridrich grinned and went down the stairs. „Henrietta is going with us!"

„No bruises, young man!" yelled mum back.

„No worry!" Marie sang back in her best innocent voice, pulling on her heeled boots. „We'll bring him back in one piece!" I tied my shoes just in time to be dragged by the back of my robes out of the house.

„Bye mum!"

„Bye!"

„Bye!"

We went out quickly so she doesn't pat us (read: me) down so she knows that someone (me) isn't carrying any contraband. Our journey ended in a close park where we climbed to the top of a jungle gym and Fridrich took out the small box.

"Where did you get it?"

"Bobby let us try and then sold me one when I asked if he could get me one."

"He wouldn't let ME try, because I'm a GIRL. Sexist idiot," Marie mumbled.

"So only Fridrich tried it?"

"Yeah. I heard he puked his guts out," she fake-whispered.

"That's not true!" he turned red – a good sign he was lying. Then he tried to find a lighter. "Where in the hell-"

"I can light them with magic," I offered, too interested in this new experience.

"Aren't you forbidden by the magical law?"

"Only if I use a wand," I rolled my eyes. "Like I'm so fucking weak I can't do spells without a piece of dead wood."

"Sure, oh great wizard – light it up," I was given one of the cigarettes. A touch of my index finger lit in up.

"Now mine!" Marie offered her own one which I lit together with a third one. "Now what?"

"Are you fucking stupid?" I asked even though I know the answer.

"I just wanted to ask!" she huffed before taking a drag. And then she started to cough, which made me and my oldest sibling laugh. "Assholes."

"I know," I tried it and couldn't help myself and coughed too.

"See?" she grinned and jabbed an elbow in-between my ribs. Ouch. The next try was easier and before I finished the cancer-stick I learned how to do it properly. "I think I don't like it enough."

"Really? Don't you want to be cool and stuff?" Fridrich asked, already smoking another one.

"Not enough I guess," she scrunched her nose. "But I don't mind the smell. At least Henry is enjoying himself," they snickered at my laying self. The nicotine loosened my stiffness and made my thoughts go slower, much more manageable. I need to get my hands on these – in bulk because I doubt there is a seller in Hogwarts. I could put my stored Polyjuice potion I brewed last Christmas holidays. I'm sure mum left some hair in her hairbrush.

"Go fuck yourself," I mumbled before inhaling the quickly addicting smoke and puffing it out together with a bit of my magic – making it into boats that floated around my siblings' heads. They laughed in surprise.

"Nice trick."

"Better than being able to snort a bugger like a fucking rocket."

"Hey! That's a crowd-pleaser!"

Dealing with Lockhart

Chapter Notes

Don't ask me how I managed to have Valentine in the 14th chapter...
But let it be known that I almost caved and named this 14. February

Valentine always seemed like a joke to me – and a magical one, organized by Lockhart, was even worse. Walls were covered in pink barf shaped like flowers and little heart-shaped confetti were getting stuck in my hair.

I sat amongst twins so I was covered at least from two sides. By back was un-guarded, but I hoped Luna or Hermione would tell me if a certain peacock was attacking me from behind.

Lockhart was wearing garish pink robes that had frills on the sleeves and on the bottom, his hair pampered more than usual and his teeth blinded me even from his distanced position. I took off my glasses to rub my eyes in pain. What a fucking eye-sore.

Severus and Minerva looked as disgusted as me – the old woman had a tick under her eye and the tall dark teacher had a murder in his eyes. Does that mean he will be more vicious in our murder plans? And would Minerva finally join?

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"

"Kill me, please, or take me to the depths of fiery hell so I can get away from this fucking hell…"

"Come on, little Raven, it can't be that bad," George laughed nervously.

Lockhart clapped his hands and a dozen of dwarfs in golden winds, diapers and carrying harps came through the door. They looked as annoyed as I and many students – which is a feat.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

At least Flitwick is going to suffer too. At first, he looked stoic, now he resembles my favourite potions teacher. His goblin blood makes it look almost wicked. I wonder how many people will have the balls to ask Severus for a Love Potion? He would probably give them poison with a venomous smile…

We got out of the Great Hall unscathed and I went to History with Hermione who was suspiciously silent. "Did you eat something bad?"

"No! Why would you think that?" I looked closer at her, narrowing my eyes.

"Did you sent Lockhart a Valentine?"

"NO! Why would I sent such an asshole a Valentine?" she got into my face, but I wasn't backing off.

"You were silent since he said he got forty-six."

"It has nothing to do with that – it just made me think about mum and dad. We always gave valentines to each other," she shrugged. Oh, so she was sad?

"We never celebrated it. Well, Fridrich and Marie always bring a horde of chocolates and cards home. However, dad and mum think it's a horrible holiday and say they have valentine's day the whole year. Sappy bullshit, if you ask me."

"That's cute, not sappy. Say it with me – C-U-T-E!"

"F-U-C-K Y-O-U." She rolled her eyes and snickered. "I hope it won't escalate as it usually did in the higher classes filled with already sexually active teens – they snogged in any available nook and cranny. I couldn't even take a piss without hearing an exchange of saliva," I shivered and Hermione laughed out loud.

"I expected you would have this outlook, but it's still funny."

"You're such a cunt-"

"Oi, you! 'enry Bundy!" I stilled and slowly turned around to look at a small dwarf. "I have this for you," he gave me a big bouquet of red roses intertwined with peacock feathers. "And this," he gave me a card and box of chocolates.

"From who-"

"Can't tell! I have many gifts to give, so don't even try!" And then he was gone. I couldn't even find the energy to curse him into an early grave.

I knew Lockhart sent me the roses – if Hermione was a little slower I would burn them. It would be such a nice fire that might serve as a torch that would burn down his office. The card was from someone else – ‚I wish you a nice Valentine, Henry. Hope you won't burn this!' (I couldn't recognise the writing so I put it in my pocket to examine later). And the expensive-looking box seemed to be from Lockhart but I couldn't ruin a box of unopened delight.

I shrank it so it fit in my coat pocket and ignored those flowers Hermione carried. „Do you know from whom it was?" she asked.

"No idea."

"Then why are you so angry? They are beautiful and I know you like flowers."

"Not red roses," I shrugged, although I knew she was well aware of my lie.

"Did you like my gift?" Why am I so stubborn and walk around alone? I turned around to face Lockhart. "I noticed you are not wearing the skirt I bought you. Such a lovely colour, it would make your eyes pop – just like blue does to me." He came so close I started to back up. "Why haven't you worn it?"

"I left it at home," I lied expertly. The truth is I burned it while cackling in an abandoned classroom where no one could find me. It made me feel better.

"Pitty – but if you want, I can buy you a new one," he came so close I ran into a wall. It shocked me enough to take my breath away (in a bad, rushed way). "Better – maybe shorter."

"I think it was really fucking short already," I mumbled and tried to find an escape route, but came up with nothing. He is a horrible wizard but even he could shoot me down if I ran.

"And what about the roses and chocolate? I hear Miss Grander took them?"

"She likes flowers and especially roses, so I gave them to her."

"Such a good boy," he patted my head – I shied away from his touch but he took my chin and turned my face to face him. He was much stronger than myself. "You are starting to take my lessons to heart! You act so much kinder than you used to – after a little glow up you would be fit for your position as the boy-who-lived."

"If you say so," I tried to push him away without my magic but he wasn't moving. He was one of those people who have muscle so I could only feel his pectorals.

"I see you tried my chocolates," he ducked down to my height level and breathed into my face. He smelled like mint and citrus with undertones of basic skin-care stench.

"What the fuck-"

He kissed me. Like, on the mouth. My eyes almost fell out of my head in shock and for a moment I obviously forgot I'm a wizard because I tried to get him off of me using my fists that hit his chest repeatedly. But only for a second or two – then my magic reacted and pushed him back so strongly I heard a loud bang. I didn't even LOOK at him before sprinting away and hiding in a girls bathroom where no one would look for me.

Angry tears streamed down my face – how dare he? Not only am I his student, but minor too! (Why me? I'm not pretty, handsome or anything.)

I heard hissing that usually could be heard around here so I wasn't even reacting – until it was really close and I could understand it – today it wasn't singing about ripping and killing.

„Is hatchling alright?"

„'m fine," I hissed back and looked around. „Where are you hiding?"

„In the water-pipesss. Hisssss OPEN at the sssnake-ssshaped faucet, it will ssshow you where I hide." I stood up, rubbed salty water from my cheeks and walked around all sinks before I found the correct one.

„Open," I hissed at it. It started to move and after a minute there was a hole leading to god-knows-where. „Are you there?"

„Yes, speaker. I will shield my eyes, so no worry – you can look at me." Yellow eyes cut through the darkness of the pipe and the big snake partially slithered out, into the bathroom. I could see it showed me only a small portion of its body.

„Are you the so-called Slytherin Monster?" I asked rudely. But I needed to know.

„Yes, but originally I wasss called the Protector of Hogwartsss, Sssoteria," she bowed her giant head. „I felt the young heir was in dissstresssss, ssso I came to help you."

"Fucking hell," I muttered. "I don 't need help, Sssoteria. I can take care of this myself." I got an idea . „Yes – myself. Do you know a spell that can extract memories?"

"I don't, but there might be something in my father's personal study."

Slytherin's study? „ Take me there. Errr, please."

„No problem, young heir. It's your legacy, after all."

She slithered down called at me that I have free passage – so I slid down to her. She was moving on old bones and shed skin so I vanished the junk. „Thank you, young heir."

„It was disgustingly messy – even for me and I had a rotting mouse in my room for days."

„Why haven 't you eaten it?"

"I'm afraid I couldn't stomach that – humans have a lot weaker stomachs in comparison to snakes."

"Poor thing," she hissed and almost tripped me when she curled her big tail around my legs in what I can only describe as a hug. I petted her, mostly because that was the only thing I could think about. She was soft and cool like silk – I might enjoy her 'hugs', especially tomorrow when it will be three days since I slept the last time. Oh well, though for later (little cleaning and this might be the third best place for a nap in the castle).

We went through a round door she barely fit and then I became her maid – everything was wet, decaying or covered in plants so I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. Only after that could I get into a hidden door that was just minutes ago partially submerged in water and covered by leaves.

But it was worth it. There was a study room filled with shelves that were completely stuffed with old books. Some were bound in leather, some had desks made out of wood – and some were just sewn pages. I inhaled the smell of old paper. I was in heaven – but there was no time to dally around. Soteria told me that if I said in Paranseltongue what type of book I needed the library would give it to me if it had it. So I asked and five books flew over to a dusty table. I cleaned it, sat on one of the creakiest chairs I ever encountered, lit up a cigarette and got to work.

Lockhart's don't catch themselves.

I emerged from the Chamber after hours upon hours of reading, exhausted. A leather-bound book laid close to the entrance – my nosiness wouldn't let me leave it there so I hid it in one of my pockets and went to the Headmasters office. My memories of every weird encounter with the asshole in a potion-bottle.

Tempus showed me that it was already after dinner - let's hope the old man is as horrible as my father who cannot go to sleep before midnight. I'm not willing to wait until tomorrow, I already missed enough classes today. I jogged through the halls, ducked to hidden alcoves or passages when I heard someone and after too long I finally arrived. Twins told me that Headmaster has a weird fascination with sweets because he uses their names as password all the time (and they would know, not just once did their prank get them to meet the old man).

I wonder why nobody ever suspects me of being part of those...

"…sugar quill, pumpkin pie, sherbet lemon-" griffin statue guarding the office I was trying to get to jumped to the side and I could run up the stairs. I wanted to just burst in but then I remembered that people usually help people more easily if they are… nice. I want to gag over that word but I knocked nonetheless.

"Come, come!" jovial male voice let me in and before I could grab the door-handle, they opened on their own. "Henry, how can I help you?"

I froze for a minute (old habits die hard I guess) but after a deep breathe-in, I looked him in the eyes that (like mine) sometimes shone with magical bursts. Especially when a chair moved so I had better access to it. "Do you know that Lockhart for some reason too liking to me?"

"Yes, it's a widely known fact." His shoulders straightened and the small smile hidden under his white moustache disappeared. "What happened, Henry?"

"He is always weird around me. He favourited me in classes since the beginning but most teachers do like me so that was partially ok – just my hate for the lier fucked his chances to get on my good side. Then he started to give me detentions for fucking stupid fucking reasons and tried to 'teach me how to be a bloody fucking celebrity'. I said no but he was even more annoying, even after many warnings ending with his head hitting the stone." How should I put the rest? How to say-

"Would you like some tea? Maybe even lemon drop?"

"If you have earl grey then sure." I am quite parched after many hours of research than often took the wrong turn and I forgot myself in a potion diary or ten. In a blink of an eye, there was a mug with steaming tea. "Thanks," I said into the air – twins took me to the kitchens numerous times so I know elves went mad (in a good way) after praise.

"I see you know about our elf staff," he smiled, amused. There was still something hard in his face. "Would you be so kind and finish your story?"

I tried to, but the words 'Lockhart is either a pedophile or power-hungry with a fetish for celebrities' just wouldn't go across my tongue. "I extracted my memories of those accidents, headmaster. Will it be sufficient?" The shock on his face was nice, I can deal with that.

"Where did you learn that?"

"In a book, moron," I sneered and sipped some tea. "It was decently easy to do as I have perfect memory and can pull on memories without an issue. Similar to a Master of Occlumency, but it's fully natural and without training." I pulled out the bottle. "They have the right colour and consistency so they are in perfect condition." Old hands brushed over mine for a second but I shied back away from him after he held my memories in a secure grip.

"I will check over them – would you like to assist me so you can check if there are no mistakes?"

"I don't do mistakes – and my curfew is nearing, so…" I tried to smile widely. I was forced to remember them in disturbing detail just an hour before – nothing could make me do that again.

"Then go sleep," He sighed after a staring-battle. "Come here tomorrow after classes. Do I have your consent to show it to someone else or authorities?"

"You can show it to Minerva or Severus. And authorities – but don't drag my parents into this, it's nothing they have to stress about now. I will tell them myself."

"Sure. Have a nice sleep, Henry." He smiled widely and waved when I quickly exited.

I did it.

…

Bloody hell, I did it.

Well, I know there is no chance of sleeping today after that…

Minerva wasn't having a good morning. Her coffee wasn't strong enough, there was nothing on the table that sparked her appetite during the breakfast and then she was called to Dumbledore's office. The only thing that elated her mood was how much worse for wear looked Severus who was many things – but not a morning bird. They stood beside each other in front of the headmaster's desk, nervous because of the sad look the old man was sporting on his usually cheerful face.

"Why did you call us so soon in the morning?" Severus finally snapped. "We have classes, you know?"

"And both of the rooms have a letter on the doors telling your students they have a free period. I was trusted yesterday with information and you were the two teachers that were allowed to know this too. Before I say anything – I won the bet!" he smiled but his eyes told another story.

"Is it something with Henry?" After all, there was no other student that trusted Severus AND Minerva.

"Let me show you his memories fist – it will be faster."

"He let you roam in his head to extract them?" Asked the surprised animagus.

"He learned how to do it himself – and did an extraordinary job like he usually does, might I add. He has the clearers memories I have ever seen – especially for someone untrained in Occlumency."

Both teachers were ushered to the pensive and dove in without too much prompting. They appeared in the DADA classroom and watch a scene of how Lockhart met Henry for the first time. It looked harmless, but they saw how the dumb blond might deduct that Henry had a crush on him. Then there were the other classes when the angry boy was forced to play different characters – again, nothing surprising. But then the memories of the detentions came – Lockhart always gushed about being a celebrity, about etiquette, how to look your best, how to speak… but the disturbing part was touching that started as hair-ruffles, patting the back and grew into involuntary half-hugs, lingering touches on the knee and thigh when they were working on piles of letters, head-scratches. However, that wasn't the end – they saw a scene of a happy family around a Christmas tree that stopped when the only wizard in the room saw one of his gifts. It ended with the kiss that made Henry tell authorities, the last drop.

Minerva was red with anger and lowly hissing like an angry cat. Snape was silently murderous, dark curses curling on his lips and magic prepared to be used for torture.

"I already sent a copy of the memories to the Child-Protection Department yesterday and Aurors should be here in an hour. Gilderoy doesn't know about any of this because I didn't want him to escape.

"What about Bundys?"

"Henry said he will tell them but there is no need to drag them into this. They couldn't help after all, as they are muggles."

"True," Severus huffed, still on the verge of running out of the office and going on a murder spree. Not only was Henry Lilly's son he promised to protect, but he also became his friend.

"Let's hope they will let him continue to study here," Minerva mumbled, unsure that being muggle would stop the two parents from tearing Lockhart a new one. How no one noticed? Why it took so long for Henry to tell? What if he continued his silence? She felt like her heart tried to break apart.

She hoped Lockhart would go into Azkaban – which was very probable as Wizard World treasured children above anything else and people who sometimes only looked at minor wrongly ended up paying a hefty fine. Minerva didn't like Lucius Malfoy and probably never would but he was the cruellest prosecutor of child abusers. He will make sure that Gilderoy Lockhart ends up in prison (and if name Bundy won't make him work hard, Potter for sure will).

I don't understand much from your notes but I can help you with dark magic theory.

What? Who the fuck are you? How are writing in this journal? Are you T. M. R.?

I'm memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle, trapped in this – MY – diary. Writing is the only way I can communicate.

I'm Henry. So, what do you know about the difference between light and dark magic? And how one becomes a light/dark wizard?

That's what the circles and math were about? Well, to answer your question – the biggest difference between light and dark magic is designated by how easy it is to use by a wizard/witch. Everyone is born with some shade of magic and those with darker shades find it easier to use dark magic, and vice versa.

So why is 'dark magic' abolished?

Well, that's an interesting question…

The Last Stab

After Lockhart got fired, I somehow felt lighter. It made me think about how to get rid of the other problem in my life – bullies. And not only mine, but I was also determined to do something about Luna's problem too. I had no idea what to do (besides murder but I promised dad not to get into THAT problem when I was in kindergarten).

Twins tried pranking and telling authorities but Flitwick is a dunderhead so that didn't work. I thought about their future torture hard and often, but there was something else on my mind after Lockhart finally left the school and we got a new teacher – ex-Auror that didn't want us to work with THOSE stupid books. He mostly practised spells with us and told us about duelling strategies and how to combine spells. Which meant those 'books' were now worthless to me and I could do what I wanted to do for months (Tom was weirdly enthusiastic for someone who never had to read them).

There was something happening in the castle. Minerva saw big groups of students that ran from one specific direction and then back with books in their hands. Or they ran with big, scared eyes. So she went to investigate – the first thing she heard was crazy, high-pitched laughter (it reminded her of stories told to her by fellow Order of Phoenix members that saw Voldemort fight with inhuman glee and loud laughter). Then she felt the heat and last but not least – she saw a big bonfire on the courtyard.

"What is going on!" she yelled at the small crowd that was watching the fire and some even threw book or stack of them into it.

"Professor!" yelled a high-pitched voice and she knew exactly who it was. His eyes were wide open and completely mad. Not even twins came close to him, just stood next to Hermione and Luna and watched the scene with bored expressions while the girls read thick tomes. "Want to contribute?"

"With what, Henry?"

"Books from that motherfucker, of course!" He cackled again, head thrown back and eyes shining green. She was much more used to the calm brown with only hints of green so it made her speechless how much they represented the colour of the killing curse. "Severus already helped me with burning his portraits," he whispered without actually being quiet so most people in the vicinity could hear him. Then he again burst into giggles and fell on his ass in mad convulsions. His smile was positively deranged.

"This is against school rules-"

"Technically not, I check it. I originally wanted to make it in the Great Hall but THAT would be problematic. And because I told Severus, it's completely legal as bonfires are a big part of many light rituals," he calmed down slightly, but small bursts of laughter left him from time to time. "After all, fire is the symbol of light and life!"

What could she say to that?

"You are lucky you missed his dance around the fire," Miss Granger grumbled after she came closer to her Transfiguration teacher. "At first I thought he was summoning God of Fire or something."

"I think it was funny," George threw an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

"The best thing is that Henry can't dance," added his twin that helped the giggling pile of robes to stand up.

I researched different potions and spells that were not deadly but would still do enough damage to be substantial. Slytherins made this easier for me because they had all the fun books about spells that sounded exciting enough for me to lose sleep over them. Tom was also a good source when it came to darker hexes and jinxes – I tried some of them on unsuspecting victims and they worked almost always after the second try. He suspects that my core is on the darker side, just like his was.

I hand-picked the students that were the worst to Luna and sneaked into the Ravenclaw dorms under my invisibility cloak around three a. m. I added several potions to their things – shampoos, body-wash gels, toothpaste tubes, hair-stuff for styling, creams and lastly I charmed all their mirrors to not reflect the damage done by my beautiful potions. Also, none of them would notice what happened to their dorm-mates.

That was why they came to the Great Hall, not knowing why everybody stared at them. It took three days for my creations to finally work but they did exactly what I wanted – when people started to ask them questions, I lifted the notice-me-not charms from the group of females and listened to their horrified screams. Luna squeezed my hand with a wide, cruel smile that I mirrored and watched my victims.

When Flitwick ushered them to the Healing Wind I followed under my cloak so I would know how well my experiments worked. Poppy scanned their burned-looking skin, shining bald heads and black teeth. The latter two were surprisingly easy to make with the help of already existing potions that did the opposite thing (whitened teeth and made hair grow faster). However, to make something that slowly burned the skin and at the same time cooled and numbed it so the victim couldn't feel pain from it was a challenge and I experimented on rats that Soteria hunted down for me (dozens of them were killed by me because they squealed in excruciating pain and only two survived their contribution to science).

Poppy was a capable Healer but she was obviously at her wit's end when she called Severus. "I have no idea how to reverse the potions, Severus – they are nothing I encountered before. Are they Dark?"

He looked over them with a sharp eye and I expected he would pull out vials with unknown potions and that he would heal them without an issue. "It is probably part of their hygienic products. Nobody seemed to notice anything probably because a powerful notice-me-not." Check, check. What now? "I never encountered potions that would do something like this-" he tried another diagnostic spell. "I worry I don't know how to make all of this go away – simple cream for burns and scars should help with your skin, teeth are pretty easy to whiten again – but the hair is ingenious. There is an ingredient – probably a dragon-skin – that makes it impossible for your hair to grow in any other way than naturally." I wanted to cackle, but I was able to hold it in.

They looked so heart-broken! Because of hair!

Then I followed Severus and Poppy after they left my victims. "Who do you think did it?" Poppy asked.

"Henry, or him and his devious group. It's the group of girls that bullied Ms Lovegood."

"So, was it all true? What you told those girls?"

"Yes, that's why I think Henry had his fingers in this. I'm glad he didn't literally burn them – like Lockhart's books. I might find something when I reverse-engineer it from their shampoos and such but I'm not too keen on helping them." I left them to their conversation after that, happy that everything worked just how I wanted.

"You're the best friend!" Luna came at me from the side and hugged me around my poor, poor ribs.

"Of course I am, Hermione would never torture people for you."

"Do you have plans for the rest of the school?"

"I need to somehow show them that I'm not heir Slytherin…"

"You might not trust me, but your problem will disappear in a few days," she smiled up with a mysterious smile and misty eyes.

"Fucking hell, this doesn't help me at all!" I groaned and pushed her away by the forehead. She giggled happily.

"Happy to help!"

"I said that it was fucking horrible help!"

I was thinking about what and if something is going to happen when Fred shook me by the shoulder during breakfast. He was holding the Daily Prophet and his wide-open eyes told me that something was wrong. "What?"

"Just read it and prepare for the worst," he muttered and gave me the horrible piece of paper. I read some older issues in the library and they were never truthful and/or reliable – but my name in big letters and Lockhart's face under it was enough for me to read.

Lockhart was convicted for his behaviour against me but more importantly, he told everyone (under Veritaserum) how he stole memories from real heroes and wrote about their adventures – and never financially compensated them. But that part was only mentioned because the paper selling information was that Lockhart wanted to have his last interview as a free man – and his last asssholery against my person (as someone who was 'responsible' for his misery) was that he told the author what is the new name of Boy-Who-Lived. How I was raised by muggles (so people think I'm muggle-born) and that I look nothing like my parents.

There was my photo under the article. It must have been taken during one of my detentions with him and I was fully unaware of how he managed that. It was a photo of my profile while I was hunching over a desk and I kept pushing my hair to the side (in frustration, and my bangs were a little too long before Christmas break) so my scar was showing from time to time.

People started to watch me like hungry vultures and there was calm before the storm – too short in my opinion.

"Fuck," I yelped when a first person almost jumped at me with questions if it was true. Then another one, who tried to hug me – kick to the ribs taught them a lesson but the other wasn't smart enough to learn from the mistakes of others. She got a stinging hex between eyes from Fred and a boy beside her was hit with Petrificus Totalus by Hermione. Luna stabbed someone with a fork, judging by her blood-thirsty smile and a pain-filled wail.

"CALM DOWN!" The headmaster yelled, using Sonorus like a muggle would use a mic. "GO TO YOUR SEATS, CHILDREN!"

"Yes, you motherfuckers!" I hissed at those who missed the memo. "Shoo!"

"MR BUNDY MIGHT BE ALSO HARRY POTTER, BUT THERE IS NO NEED TO BOTHER HIM BECAUSE OF HIS STATUS! Mr Lockhart was under silence-vow but after he was fired, he went against it – which was very rude of him. Mr Bundy wants to live a normal school life, SO DON'T TREAT HIM ANY DIFFERENT! If anyone makes an issue out of this, they will get week-long detention with Mr Filch!"

Somehow, the stop of bullying was worse than the attacks themselves. The fact that I was revealed as their beloved Boy-Who-Lived made them stop believing in me being the Heir of Slytherin – but I wanted to kill them more than ever. I was forced to give autographs with 'subtle' threats of bodily harm, I received letters from my 'fans' and people started to act differently around me.

I was even worse around those types of people, would blow up in their faces faster than a stick of lit dynamite. I made a new safe-place in Hospital Wing where Poppy breathed fire on anyone who disturbed her patients (or me). She appreciated my help, at least I think so. Or did she just like to have someone working with her? After all, she is usually alone in her domain when Minerva is in classes or deals with Griffins.

Hello Henry,

I received a letter from Mrs Tonks who told me that one of your teachers told everyone about your birth name. Are we suing?

Love,

Dad

I rolled my eyes and wrote my answer on the other side of his short note. "Eat anything, Galileo," I muttered and then snickered when someone shrieked when a big raven ascended on their plate.

He was fired before he told everyone – and he's in prison for inappropriately touching some students. So chill.

Hate, Henry

I'm glad no one said anything about me being the one who was Lockhart's victim. Probably because I'm a minor, to protect me. At least there was that positive outcome (I have no idea what would I do – no, what would THEY do).

"Good morning," Hermione smiled at us and sat next to me. I had a 'sleepover' with Luna in our room so I didn't have the pleasure of kicking her out of bed. She looks amusing with hair wild from sleep. "Are you again staying during the Easter Holiday? Dad and mum have too much work so I will stay this time too."

"Yes, I'm staying. Have you started annoying Minerva about the elective subject yet?"

"…maybe?" I snickered when she turned red.

"Predictable, you need to work on that."

"Did you pick already?" Luna asked from my other side.

"I think I will take all elective subjects," Hermione smiled at her only girl friend in our group.

"Muggle studies?" I raised my eyebrow in disbelief. "Are you aware that you probably have more experience with the muggle world than the teacher?"

"But if I want to have as much OWL as I can –"

"You can just take the test, no need to have classes. And Divination – you can't tell me you are interested in reading from tea leaves or rubbing off a glass ball."

"But-"

"Take it if you want, but the books are shit – and George told me the teacher is batshit crazy without an ounce of intelligence in her small brain. You are too smart to waste time with a dunderhead,"

"Thank you, Snape," Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled lightly. I expected more anger after I told her what to do. "Are you taking Runes and Arithmetacy, then?"

"And Magical Creatures, Luna here sparked my interest," I pushed the clingy blond from my side where she tried to coo at me like I was Harry. "I think we might for once share more classes if you choose the same ones."

"Of course I will – but if I fail Muggle Studies, then you will pay and help me with redeeming myself."

"Sure, sure. Which reminds me – where are twins?"

"They had a Quidditch training in the morning."

"It's raining," I deadpanned.

"I know – the captain is almost as crazy about Quidditch as you are around fire."

"Doubt that many people can sing and dance at the same time."

"You call that dance? More like an epileptic shock – but on two feet."

"My speciality, thank you for noticing."

April rolled around and exams crept into the mind of the crazy Griffindor girl who tried to make us all hate the library with her hysteric repeating of a known material. Twins were better this year with their school so they didn't need much help besides some nudges in the correct direction. Well, there were some kicks but let's not talk about THAT. Luna asked me only about the practical part of her upcoming tests which I shared without an issue (Hermione muttered something about cheating, but teachers should expect older students to sell their secrets to younger ones).

I was chill about the exams – what unnerved me was that Tom started to act weird. His arguing skills died in a ditch and humour left the chat. He pushed me to 'play with my friends' even though everyone was usually deep asleep when I wrote to him. Then one day I blacked out for an hour (and I know I wasn't sleeping, I never nap after five hours of sleep) and lost him.

Then the attacks started again – some girl from Ravenclaw was turned to stone, which was irrelevant but there was another victim brought in (just when I was chatting with Poppy over a good cup of tea). Hermione.

It was difficult to see Hermione stiff as a stone, laying in white bedsheets. Her wild hair looked weirdly limp, which made me even more aggravated. But even though I was feeling awful, Henry looked worse. Most would expect him to take this the easiest (and I kind of did too), but the unpredictable boy was in a half crazy, half miserable state.

I tried to provide comfort, we pranked anyone who came close to us and George cracked joke after joke, but nothing worked. He ignored us completely, determined to find out-of-season mandrakes or make a different potion that would help. Thanks to that he usually fell asleep in classes or at lunch – Luna managed to sometimes drag him onto a couch but most often she just covered him with his favourite fluffy blanket because he fell asleep on the ground next to his experiment.

"Fucking hell," he muttered when a panic arose in the Great Hall. I put a hand on his hunched over the shoulder.

"What is going on?" I asked Percy, who was thankfully near.

"There is some note on the wall," his girlfriend stepped into our conversation. "Some student was taken into it."

"Does anyone know who the fuck was stupid enough to get kidnapped?" Henry muttered and pushed his plate away from him, so he had a place where to put his elbows and then planted his face into pale hands. "What the fuck – is it really you, Tom?" he muttered so quietly I almost missed it. I acted cool but burned with interest. Does he know who might be the Heir?

"They are just counting the students-"

Then we heard that it might be Ginny and I lost blocks on my patience and interest. "You know something."

"I might, but I'm not sure," he muttered, tired as they come. I don't mind that he had a face as emotive as a stone – he has no feelings for my little sister. "I never even thought about her being- but it might be the truth," he muttered.

"You know where Ginny was taken?" George hissed with big eyes.

"Only MAYBE, but-"

"No, no buts, we are going!" he stood up. I followed my twin and twisted fingers in Ravenclaw robes so Henry had something to lean on when his sleepy mind forgot to keep up the pace. He told us to go to female bathrooms near where the attacks happened. He went to one of the sinks and hissed at it – I could only bulge my eyes out when it opened up to show a tunnel. "And you never told us about this?"

"Soteria asked me to keep this secret – and she is too nice to be a killer of children. She is the Guardian of the School," he yawned and rubbed his eyes before chugging a pepper-up hidden in one of his many pockets. "I can check it out myself if you don't want to go."

"No, no, we will go. You never know, maybe you will need our help!" I hate how right I was at that moment.

--

My drawing of Henry:

Mark of Slytherin

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

We went through a dark tunnel – after an exciting slide down a giant tube – which was weirdly enough clean. I expected bones, water from the pipes, dust, cobwebs, ANYTHING, but there was only stuffy air. Our trail had many turns and we walked for quite a while – until we couldn't. There was a solid wall ahead on which two intertwined serpents were carved, their eyes similar colour to Henry when he used his magic (or was giggling madly next to a fire).

The younger boy hissed at them a short word (probably open or fuking open) and went through a crack in the wall before it managed to fully open. For once, it wasn't him who said "Fucking hell!" George grabbed my hand for emotional support, his eyes big with awe and fear. We were standing in a dimly lit chamber, pillars that had alive-looking carvings of snakes on them supported the ceiling that was hidden in darkness. It sent chills down my spine – Henry wasn't even looking around, which supported my theory that he knew a lot more than any living soul about this.

Bar the Slytherin Heir, of course.

On the other end of the chamber was a huge statue of a bearded man, his sharp features highlighted by the green light. But nothing caught my eye more than the body of my little sister on the ground.

"Ginny!" George cried out and ran to her side. "Please, wake up – Ginny, wake up-"

I stayed by Henry's and looked around us, so I was the first one who saw the older boy.

"She won't wake," he said with a soft voice. It was scary how much he reminded me of my best friend – willowy, dark-haired, his eyes brownish-green that gleamed with intelligence. However, he was slightly blurred around the edges and a smirk on his face had no sadistic glee behind it.

"What did you do to her?!"

"She's alive, no worry – at least for now." The hidden sadism shined from under his sweet mask. I prefer the rough truthfulness of Henry's face. "It's nice to finally meet you face to face, Henry." Surprisingly – now he looked truly happy.

"Tom," he nodded shortly, frowning. "So you did all of it. Have you somehow possessed Ginny?"

"Yes, did you put it together now or before?" He went closer to us, ignoring the other pair.

"Before, because you fucking MISSED the fact that I don't just MISS AN HOUR OF MY LIFE without noticing, you sly MOTHERFUCKER!"

"Truly magnificent." He was circling around us like a predator preparing for a pounce. "Did you manage to uncover another one of my secrets?"

"What do you mean?" I asked and stepped in front of the shorter boy.

"You somehow drained her magic which is why you have your own body. You took MY magic too, haven't you?"

"Not only her magic, my dear Henry. Also her life force, which will give me body! Your magic just made it easier, such a lovely dark wild beauty. I wasn't even trying to take it, it just went through me and allowed me to keep a little at a time. I made you give me away when I couldn't stop my nature to take and take and take-"

"Got it. Just… release her. You act fucking irrational outside of the diary, Tom. You need to go back – and we can find another way." Henry pushed me back, so he could hold an eye-contact. I could almost applaud him for how calm he managed to be.

"No, I listened to her wishes and needs for so long – Quidditch this, Quidditch that, Ron-the-annoying-brother, twins that are just SO cool…" he was crazily mumbling now. "I will become a real boy again, and then we can study the dark arts together! We could travel to gain knowledge, with my Slytherin Vaults! We could rule the world, two most powerful wizards – standing side by side against the whole world!" He came closer and closer until he stood in front of Henry. I was frozen in shock when he grabbed his freckled face – but not at all surprised when the ghost got yeeted across the chamber (I have truly horrible reactions).

"Come on, asshole – I bet there are better ways to get a body!"

"No, no, no – bad Henry, such a bad boy – you should be punished, yes, punished-" Then he started hissing at the statue, which opened its mouth wide open. A big body could be seen moving in the darkness and after a short while, a huge snake slithered out of there. I stepped in front of Henry to shield him but he pushed me back again and hissed at the serpent. I never imagined that reptiles could be so expressive with their facial features and tones of hissing. It looked distressed, unwilling to do what her master told her. The so-called Tom hissed in abundance too and took out a yew wand.

Ginny's wand. It made my blood boil and my stomach curl in discomfort. They were obviously incompatible.

"I can't say no to the Slytherin Heir, little heir," Soteria hissed with a hitch that would usually mean someone was on the verge of crying.

"Kill his friends, but not Henry, not the little heir," Tom grinned widely, none of his previous intelligence to be seen.

"Soteria, no!"

"I'm sorry," she bowed her head before striking in George's direction. I pushed as much magic as I could into one blow at the tip of her nose and it only stopped her marginally. Fred shielded us from an unknown red spell that Tom shot at us. They fell into a duel while I tried to keep her distracted from her forced goal but I was getting weaker – my tiredness strong even under the effects of pepper-up. My blood sugar was too low for this shit, but what can I do?

I managed to lead her further back, away from a vicious duel between twins and the memory – George joined his brother because Fred alone could never stand up to Tom who was a genius like myself (and what is worse – for them – he specialized in hexes and jinxes, not potions). I threw rubble created by a blasting curse that didn't hit its intended target and threw it at her, when she lost her interest in my only slightly hurtful spells. I should really practice my duelling more (such a horribly bland subject).

Maybe I could look into spell creation, that might suit me a lot- "Eek!" I shrieked when a big bird flung just centimetres from my head and attacked Soteria's precious eyes. "Hey!" I threw one of the rocks at it so it managed to scratch out only one eye. "She's not using them!" If she did, I would be dead but she hissed a soft promise before the fight that she would keep her primary eyelids closed. "Stupid flying fucker!" I completely forgot what was happening at that moment, but a cutting hex that hit my cheek brought me back."

"I said kill the other boys, you stupid snake!" Tom hissed at her angrily before hitting Fred with a spell square in the chest which threw him at least two meters back. Geoge hit his opponent with a blasting curse which threw him back too.

Then I saw it, under Fred who was wheezing (probably because of broken ribs). The summoning spell didn't work so I yelled at him while ducking under an attack. "Forge, under – to me!" I shortened it and hoped for cooperation – thankfully he was not only a good translator but also a thrower. I spun around and waited for an attack filled with teeth - put the diary above my head and hoped I would survive the chomp. Someone screamed and I felt pain like never before – my screams resonated with Tom's, but his were screechier and stopped before mine. I was hiccuping in pain because the left part of my face was not only scratched by the basilisk tooth but also drenched in her potent poison.

"Little heir, what is going on?" she asked, probably just as blind as myself right now. I couldn't calm her down, as I was in the midst of a confusing whirlwind of pain.

"Pain, so much," I managed to hiss through my tears.

"Henry!" one of the twins grabbed my shoulders and lifted my chin up. "The phoenix will help you – he –"

"Not the fucking bird!"

"Calm down! He can help. Phoenix tears can heal," Fred started to pet my hair like I was a fucking dog but I couldn't get anything past my lips. It would come up as a cry or a screech so I shut up for once. I forced them to clean it first with aquamenti, then let the bird try to cry on most of my injury. It still hurt like a motherfucker and I had no energy to even stand up after that. I ended up on Fred's back and George picked up their sister.

"I'll try to come back as soon as I can," I managed to tell Soteria before we left. I buried my face in his shoulder (but not the left side) and tried to stop my shaking and whimpering. I felt so much pain.

My hands are no longer as scar-less as they were almost a year ago, my experiments with potions marking them with spots paler than my already pallor shade. I experienced acidic and base burns, felt fire lick my fingers, got a hot liquid on me multiple times. But nothing ever felt this bad – nothing burned like the most potent poison (in the magical world) and a powerful corrosive substance.

Through the haze of pain, I understood only that we managed to get out and the twins were stopped by someone. Then I blacked-out – because the next thing I remember is fretting Poppy who was cleaning my wound with healing salves. However, we were not in the infirmary – but in the headmaster's office.

"Fred has broken ribs," I muttered before a pain-filled hiss came through my lips. "Be more careful, bitch!"

Albus Dumbledore regrated many things – he thought it came with his age but Minerva was only a few decades younger and she was much more in peace with her past.

He regretted his youth the most - Ariana's death, Abefort's growing hate for his older brother, fall of Gellert into dark arts. But then there were things like his always obvious dislike for Tom Riddle (he treated him bad since he met the boy), favouritism towards Marauders (poor Severus, who never got what the boy truly deserved). He regretted the death of James and Lily Potter, hated that he couldn't help them or save Sirius from prison (The bidings of the one who put up wards and bound them to a Secret-Keeper were merciless – he could never say that Peter was the one who betrayed the Potters. Even if Albus could, he still killed those muggles.). Now he even regretted his decision to put young Henry with his aunt – and was glad that she put him up for adoption and he became part of the Bundy family.

Intellect of that boy was scary, probably even greater than the Dark Lord's in his prime. Albus had a feeling that people should worship the Bundy family, because they probably stopped the rise of a new dark lord right in the potential beginning. He had the same tendencies and characteristics as Tom – arrogant, intelligent, charismatic. Powerful. Dark. However, where Tom was secretive and sly, Henry was cruelly honest and unapologetically himself (read: rude).

His family gave him love, something Tom never had. They supported him in any subject or interest he had and worked with him on his aggressive nature and lack of morals. What would become of Tom, if he had similar background? Politician, lawyer, minister – or his original dream-job, a teacher?

There was a slight negative to this – there were two angry parents prepared to tear his throat out and siblings that looked scarily similar to their adopted brother when he wanted to blow something up ( something like a school or just the headmaster). "Take us there, or I will personally strangle you," Samatha seethed and the headmaster wasn't even considering something else than nodding.

"I will apparate you to my office, where he's getting the basic treatment by the school healer. You will probably need to go to the hospital – I will take you there after getting his things. He will be excused from all his exams and get a score based on his performance in classes and homework. Please, touch this parchment and expect a feeling like you were dragged through a tight tube." He tried to make this as short as he could – one of the children in the background had a baseball bat and a deranged look in his blue eyes.

"Fridrich, Marie, take care of your siblings," their father said calmly before grabbing the parchment. His wife followed but looked at the headmaster with looks that could kill.

"No worry dad!" their oldest daughter smiled fakely. "Hide the bodies well!"

Albus teleported the group to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

Molly was already there, cuddling her only daughter with fat tears on her freckled cheeks. The twins were between them and young Henry, who had his eyes shut and curled on himself in a plush chair transfigured from a quill. His injury was an angry shade of red and around it was a splotch pink skin partially covered in creams that lowered his pain. Fawkes helped a little, making the venom non-lethal but nothing could get the potent liquid from the pale face fully.

"Oh Harry," his mother breathed in shock, which made him open his un-injured eye. He looked like a statue before something broke in his cold façade and launched on his mother, gripping her in his spindly arms and a loud pain-filled sob tore out of his throat.

No one expected him to break, he seemed so composed before (but Fred and George knew there was something wrong – their friend never shook like a leaf in a thunderstorm and his eyes have never had such a dead look in them). Samatha dragged him to a chair he exited so quickly and sat down, her son on her lap and his tearful eyes hidden in her shoulder. Gregor stayed calm, gently holding both of them but burning a hole through the headmaster with his deep brown eyes. There was a promise of shouting and probably even a lawsuit in them, but he took care of his family first.

"I couldn't find his trunk in the Raven-" Severus barged into the office before freezing on the spot. "I'm sorry I interrupt." He looked at the sobbing boy like it physically hurt him (and it did).

"No need to apologize, professor," Gregor nodded at him. "Boys, do you where Henry has his things?"

"I'll bring it," George jumped up and then quickly disappeared, so no one had the opportunity to follow him.

Feeling better after my burst of emotions, I was the one who pushed my parents into going to St. Mungos. We were port-keyed to the second floor by the Headmaster, as it was quicker and muggles can't use the floo properly (Mrs Weasley and Ginny went to a different floor, as she wasn't injured by an animal).

Mum held me so strongly it hurt and dad looked more like a dragon than a human when he looked at everyone with an angry curl of his lip. Let's say I was the only one who was calmed down by crying. I wonder what will they do in the future.

One of the healers told us to follow him into an office, immediately after we arrived. People recognized me as Harry Potter and there was a lot more talking than my already agitated magic could take. "So, do you know what animal attacked your son, Mr Bundy?" He talked to dad, not even looking at me. Like I wasn't there.

"By a basilisk, you fucker. Dad wouldn't recognize a testral from a hippogriff. She accidentally scraped my face and released her venom on instinct. I had it cleaned with water and then with cleaning salve by Mrs Pomfrey."

"She?" he moved his eyes to me, slightly shocked like most adults when I opened my mouth.

"Yes, she. But that is not important – I also got partially healed by phoenix tears so there is no danger to my life. However, it still hurts like a mother-fucker." He looked for a little too long before using a basic diagnostic charm. Then one a lot more precise, that specialized on sight.

"We can save your face – there are creams and procedures to get rid of scars-"

"No fucking way, I like them. Scars look cool – but what about the pain?!" Something cracked when my magic lashed out. Who asked him about scars?!

"Calm down, Mr Bundy-Potter. Are you sure? It will calm down but the scaring will be still horr-"

"I sssaid I fucking like it. Again - what about the pain?"

"I'm afraid there is nothing that could help – we will give you painkillers that should make it bearable, but only time can heal injuries this serious." Fuck you too, asshole. "But there is another thing – can you open your left eye?"

"Judging by your diagnostics I would guess not?" Dad's fingers will leave my shoulder bruised, I'm fully sure about that. Although I was partially sure what would happen, I did try to open my eye-lids. It hurt, but I managed – just to see from only one eye. I logically knew there was little chance I could keep both of my horrible eyes, but hope dies last. "Let's say that I can get an eyepatch."

"Henry!" Mom yelled in distress and hugged me from my right side. "My poor baby!"

"I could poke his eyes out and then sue him into an early grave," dad was whispering behind my back and haven't stopped his experiment 'how long can Henry's shoulder joint last'.

"Is there any magical way of repairing it? I never read about it."

"There is not – we can make a new magical eye that would give you sight though. It's a complex rune matrix that makes you able to see. There are many models, but the civilian one is like a muggle glass eye – and it's also the only one you can get. The first one is paid by the ministry, but you will need extra ones because they need to soak in potions so they become wet and don't damage your eye-socket. If you pick this option, of course."

"Will it be as bad as my actual eyesight? And what are the non-civilian models?" I grew interested.

"It will have a 20/20 vision, as long as you take good care of it. And the non-civilian eyes are too big to fit into a human eye-socket because they have so many runes on them that they need to be bigger. They can see through walls, see magic, move independently from the normal one – but only Aurors, hit-wizards and people in ministry can get their hands on them. "

"How soon can you make it?" Mum asked, still crushing me in her arms.

"In an hour or two, depends if you want one now and later come for the other one or do you want both of them?"

"Both," I shrugged.

"That means we have time for a general health-check!"

"We regularly visit a GP. Muggle one," dad added the muggle part when the healer looked at him, confused.

"Yes, that is great – but magical children have usually different development to muggle or squib children, Mr Bundy. Magic changes bodies enough that some consider magical folk as a different race – we have usually better metabolism because magic is just another form of energy. We are immune to common muggle viruses and bacteria, however, muggles are in turn immune to our illnesses. Also, most wizards and witches have weaker bones and bruise easier – although there is research that that is part of being pureblood."

"Inbreeding does that," I snickered but then hissed in pain. Too many facial expressions mean HURT PAIN HURT – got it.

"So, can I proceed?"

"Sure," mum nodded and let go of me. The wizard waved his wand in complex moves (and overdid every swish, show-off). Parchment began to fill with my medical information.

"You are healthy if I don't count your recent injuries. Would you be so kind and answered a few questions?"

"Shoot."

"So, Henry, do you have a lot of problems with accidental magic?"

"Yes, but I can partially control it. It used to be much more violent, now it just makes small explosions if I'm experiencing heightened emotions." He wrote that down next to something already inked on the yellowed parchment. I want that paper.

"Have your puberty started already?"

"Are asking me if I started to grow hair or if I jack-off?" I raised an eyebrow. Mum and dad deadpanned next to me. I let the adults simmer before: "I'm only experiencing start od acne. And got my growth spurt I guess."

"The growing is not part of puberty – you have too much magic for a pre-pubescent sized body so your body automatically grows to accommodate it. It should stabilize before you reach your magical maturity, which is around fourteen to fifteen years old. But you won't get the usual puberty-induced growth spurt."

"I never heard of something like that."

"It's very unusual, so that doesn't surprise me. There are some instances, but don't grow in such noticeable amounts. Next question: when was the last time you slept?"

"Monday."

"It's Wednesday!"

"Exactly – I was trying to figure something out. Why?"

"Your information shows that you have insomnia, but not because of some external force or illness. How long do you suffer from it?"

"Since I was a kid – I suffered from frequent nightmares. I found out that sleeping less often means I have fewer nightmares – too tired to make them up," I shrugged. "I don't mind it though, are you aware of how many hours people lose because of a healthy sleeping schedule? I would have half the time I have now for reading and experimenting!"

"We talked with our doctors about it and they said that we should make him exhausted or force him to go to sleep, but Henry would never fall asleep if he wasn't willing. So we let him, as long as he has no issues because of lack of sleep," mum added.

"Noted. Do you have any other… rituals?" We looked at each other for a long time.

"Are you asking me if I'm autistic? Or have a 'simple' OCD?"

"You are very smart, aren't you?"

"Certified genius, but that doesn't matter right now. To answer your question: I was tested because of my lack of manners and smart people obviously need some psychological problems – and I have, some, but those are not one of them. I might be obsessive, but – for example – I'm too messy and lack a need for schedules. My sleeping tendencies are proof of that."

He had some other questions and then wanted to talk with just my parents. I put my ear on the door to listen to them. "So, what do you want to do?"

"About what?"

"He's just a child, he doesn't understand the importance of having a reputable face, especially for someone of his standing-"

"If Henry wants to have those scars, he will have scars. The end – come buddy, I bet you could use some sugar. I saw a cantine in the hall!" Dad, my saviour (he knows me too well for me to listen to them without suspicion…)!

Chapter End Notes

Am I the only one who always thought that Harry reacts too calm about being almost killed by a giant snake?

Chapter 17

"We don't want Henry to study in Hogwarts any more if this is how he gets treated – and why is a SCHOOL this dangerous?! Other parents should know too, as they maybe want to have children in a safe environment!" dad was moving from side to side in angry strides. I should have brought popcorn.

"I know this is a horrible situation, but I can assure you – it is not a yearly thing. We haven't had a similar problem since 1943, Mr Bundy."

I heard the headmaster was addicted to lemon drops but he had a big slice of chocolate cake prepared for me, so I was happily stuffing my face since we came here, while dad tried to make the old man either shit his robes or make him cry. Either way, I was preparing for a moment when he would get serious so I could stop him. I don't want to go to another school.

"Any school would take him! I heard about Durmstrang Institute, where they teach much more interesting types of magic that I know Henry would enjoy!"

"They have worse potion course," I argued.

"Do you need another slice?"

"Sure." I love their shutting-me-up tactics.

"I'm sure we could even afford private tutors – not that he needs them but he does need to finish five years of compulsory education - doesn't he?"

"Yes, Mr Bundy. Although I know you have his best interests at heart, what does Henry want?"

"Another slice?" Bright blue eyes made me grin widely. It still hurt, but not as much as just a week before (I'm not even mentioning how painful my days were a month in the past, when it was fresh). "I want to stay here. Luna might get bullied again without me."

"That's another thing! He was thrown out of his dorms and no teacher knew ANYTHING!" Luna wrote him a letter, the little snitch. She is, after all, the only one who knew the full story. Twins and Hermione thought I just finally decided not to even visit my official bedroom.

"He didn't say-"

"There must be some monitoring spells!"

"They do exist-"

This was getting boring, but I was forbidden from wandering through the castle. Couldn't even visit my friend group (mainly finally moving and talking Hermione). Instead, I pulled out an Arithmancy book and went through the simple math used for creating spells. They were not even college-level calculations! Combining them with runes was much more interesting, but I was preparing for a boring summer. Hermione wrote to me about another vacation to Europe with her family and Arthur won a trip to Egypt for his whole family.

It meant nobody would have free time before the end of the holidays and my parents were overprotective of me so no trips on my own. This all meant one thing: time for O.W.L.s! I decided I would take all twelve possible options just to give myself a slight challenge. I managed to get a date for my exams through the post (Gallileo was happy about so many trips – because those meant treats).

"Henry, would you agree to resorting?"

"Hm?"

"If you would like to go to a different house, I'm sure Minerva or Severus would kill for you in their house," the old man smiled kindly.

"I can't leave Luna alone, Dumbledore. Those fuckers would get nasty again if I weren't there to fuck them up again."

"Again?" He raised his fluffy white eyebrow. I shut up my big mouth and looked elsewhere. Fucking hell. "Would you be willing if Ms Lovegood was resorted too?"

"I doubt she would be, that cunt is too much of a Raven for her own good."

"If you want anytime to change this decision, then let me know. Please."

"Ok, ok. If you care so much, then sure."

I knew that lounging in the living room was a bad idea. A tennis ball flew millimetres from my nose and broke a vase filled with water and fresh flowers dad bought mum yesterday, like any other Wednesday. I never understood why he does that, to be honest.

"Mom will kill us!" Ludvik shrieked, as he was the one who was supposed to catch the ball. Fridrich and my younger brother looked at me with pleading eyes.

"I have an exam to study for-" I tried to get out of it, but I was interrupted by Fridrich: "You are going nowhere – you are our accomplice!" He grinned, too happy about our situation.

"I don't wanna!"

"Charm her with your puppy-eye spell, oh great wizard!" Ludvik jumped and landed next to me on the couch. He got bigger during our months apart, but not as much as Elizabeth who was nearing her worst, puberty-filled years. I lived through one hormonal sister, I fear I won't survive the second one.

"I don't have puppy eyes," I rolled the forementioned and put the charms book away – fully aware they won't allow me to continue.

"You do, and they WORK. So, go say sorry to mum!"

"Go fuck yourselves, I'm not taking this blame!"

"Come on, be a good sport!" Fridrich came from behind and started to rub his knuckles on my head – but it wasn't even half as bad as when he did it last time. Everyone put less strength in their punches, especially if they were near my head (and mainly the left side of it).

"I'm terrible at sports," I muttered and tried to get away, but Ludvik climbed up on me. "You're too heavy," I huffed in discomfort.

"I think you are just too weak, brother of mine," he grinned wider.

"Fuck you, you too and especially both of you!" I breathed in, out and calmed down enough not to hiss. "I can try and repair it."

"You can do that?"

"Are you aware that it's the opposite of explosion, right?"

"Like I said – I can try. Can't use a wand, that's why I'm not sure if I'm capable of doing it."

"You can do it, mighty wizard!" They chanted silently, while I was trying to coerce my magic into doing something so much against its nature.

Most of my accidental magic was volatile since I can remember – similarly to my temperament. The first one my parents lived through happened maybe a week into me living with them. Like a normal child, I woke up in the middle of the night but not from hunger or full nappie (I remember that day only slightly, toddler memory slips even my great mind – but I know for sure I dreamed of green light and female scream.). Mother says my scream broke the clock, picture-frames and toys levitated all over Fridrich's room I used to share with him.

The first one that I fully remember happened in kindergarten, when a kid stole my favourite pencil. It was soft lead so I needn't strain my little weak hands too much when drawing. It was pale yellow and in hands of that bastard it looked so small (he was maybe twice my size). A small army of pencils went into the attack with their main enemy being the face of a young bully that almost lost an eye at his young age (we would be matching now – what a horrible thought). That day, I promised dad I would try to control myself (I was forced and then bribed with too much chocolate).

After a lot of thinking about Reparo later, I had a vase in my hands. It looked like I glued it together, but it wasn't – my magic made it solid. The connections were shimmering green, which complimented the turquoise porcelain well – but it was so obvious it was repaired!

"Fucking hell…"

"It looks cooler now!" Ludvik tried to cheer me up.

"It's obvious you broke it," I threw it back and only the sharp instincts of an athlete saved the butchered repair job.

"I bet mum might like it, it really looks cool." And then he ran away, with me on his heels.

"Don't show her you fucking bastard!"

"What do you have to show me, sweetheart?" Mum rose her eyes from her novel and smiled at us.

"Ludvik and Fridrich broke it," I blurted out to save myself.

"And Henrietta repaired it!"

"Really?" she took her favourite vase and turned it around. Will she be mad at them or me? "It's very pretty, Henry. Have you heard about kintsugi?"

"It sounds Asian."

"Yes, it's a Japanese art that repairs broken pottery with gold – it's also called the art of precious scars. It shows that broken doesn't mean useless or less valuable," her smile widened and she drew me into a hug.

"You should stop reading those magazines, they rot your brain."

"This is a warm moment, Henry James Bundy-Potter! Don't ruin it for me!"

After a lot of pleading, dad took me to the Ministry where my tests took place. Beanie and a medical face mask covered most of my recognisable features, mainly the lightning bolt scar. I thought the beanie was enough but mum manhandled me into something more covering. At least the semi-formal outfit was comfortable – I would prefer one more layer called labcoat but what can I do against an aggressive mother of mine?

"Please, show me your wand and state why you are visiting the Ministry today?"

"My name is Henry Bundy. I came to do my OWLs testing, and dad is here as a bodyguard slash escort."

"T-the-"

"Yes, here is my wand," I resisted an urge to poke him with it. "Cunt," I muttered when he went red and stuttered over words when he gave it back. "I hate these fucking people," I moaned when we finally could continue into the testing room.

I chose an option for overachievers when all written tests are in one day and the next day would be filled with practical exams. I was not worried in the slightest, although that couldn't be said about the rest of the room. I expected few other smart underage wizards, but they were adults.

"Did you get lost?" One witch asked me with a kind smile. I sneered in retaliation.

"Do I look like a dumb child, bitch? I'm not the one who needs to take OWLs in their late thirties."

"I'm sorry," dad dragged me back by the collar of my shirt. "He's a little strung up in stress." I'm not stressed! She's just an unbelievable fucking cunt!

"Understandable – is he here to get tested?"

"Yes, I am." I hate when people talk over me like I'm not even there. It's not like I'm easily overlooked, I was just a little shorter than the witch in front of me!

"Well, good luck then!" Big smile, condescending pat on the shoulder and attempted murder. That last one was me, but dad cut that idea short in its budding.

"Try to remain calm, they might throw you out and you don't want that, do you?"

"I hate stupid adults," I muttered and let him push me into a seat. In front of me, a quill laid on the table next to a stack of papers. There were rules written on it together with a questionnaire asking about my age, how well I think I might do, if this was my first testing if I already have OWLs or even NEWTs…

"Have a nice testing, Henry. I will be working in the café across from the ministry, ok?"

"Sure, disgusting coffee drinker," I waved him off, already reading through the papers on the table. Twenty minutes into my vein-ripping boredom the testing started. As soon as I finished one test, another one would appear in front of me – if I opened it, I couldn't walk away so any bathroom break was taken between them. I took two, after every fourth test. People around me broke into tears and didn't even have more than ONE.

I still finished as one of the fastest.

On the way out, I went to a table that was labelled as The Head of Testing. "Hello, may I get a date for NEWT testing, sometime next month?"

The witch behind the table looked at me with a shocked expression. "What?"

"I said I want a fucking date for NEWTs testing. I should get results from my OWLs in fourteen days, so I guess that three weeks from now should suffice?"

"You don't need to take them so soon – the levels are marginally different!"

"Well, this shit-fest was so simple I think I should manage at least in… four subjects."

"… " she sighed. "I will make you a reservation, but you can terminate at any time!"

"Sure."

"So, which subjects?"

"Potions, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy – I need a little more time for Transfiguration, Charms and DADA. I know the theory, but my practical is not O level."

"And your name?"

"Henry Bundy."

"T-the-"

I hate people.

The next day I came for the practical part – only half of yesterday 'class' came too. They must have a different date for this part – I doubt they could fail that spectacularly. No one can be that stupid… right?

I conversed about Runes and how I personally use them on clothing – the person talking with me made me show him one of my labcoats that I brought for the Potion Exam. I made this one especially for a formal setting so it was never-before worn and I embroidered it with my best ability. They asked me to make a simple protection circle so I used one of my favourite ones – it was slightly more complex than a standard one but teachers love over-achievers.

Arithmancy exam was another discussion, this time about math (that wasn't part of OWLs level of difficulty but who cares). Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Herbology, History and Muggle Studies were about the same simplicity, with childishly primitive practicals. I hoped that at least Herbology would be a challenge, but I was forced to wait until Charms.

They were still easy but I needed to give it my full attention. I managed to animate figures, make them sing and dance at the same time and then did some other charms. I passed without an issue and continued to DADA. That was harder and without twins and Slytherins, I wouldn't be prepared.

I was glad that it ended and not only because next were Potions. Labcoat on my shoulders and the familiar smell of potion ingredients made me grin and I brewed with an extra showing off. I pulled every trick under my sleeve so I finished half an hour sooner. Perfect colour, smell and smoke – I did this exam with two other people and only one of them managed to finish with a cauldron in one piece.

Transfiguration was as fun as usual, even though Minerva wasn't the one talking about gruesome transfiguration topics like if mice turned into a goblet can feel being filled with acid. I wonder if morbid tendencies are part of being a Master in this subject – Tom told me that Dumbledore was the one who taught it before Minerva. I need to find out if he's fucked up too! What an exciting experiment!

While absorbing more knowledge for a perfect NEWTs grade, I needed something to distract me and a book about magical eyes was too good to pass on. I worry I scared Burkes with my gushing about how great he is after he told me that he finally found it in an American auction around the start of the summer. He used my money to bid for it, but I still couldn't stop my pen from making him sound better and smarter than he is. Well, what can I say? I like a capable man.

The runes used on magical prosthetic eye were difficult, but the application was far worse. Specialized workers in labs use magical needles to carve the runes into a glass surface and they are so small and delicate that they are invisible. The potion for making the eye itself invincible was an easy one (at least for my level) so that wasn't too interesting.

I'm sure making my own magical eye would give me additional points, right? Is that a good excuse to do it? Even if it is a horrible excuse, I already bought an extra eyeball and started to practice my accuracy with a needle and my new magnetising glasses for jewellers were coming to me. I found out that using my magic instead of clunky fingers made this process easier – I looked into robots that specialize in tiny tasks but I worry I can't make a medical-grade robot (but it did rekindle my interest in robotics).

After I celebrated my thirteenth birthday I had a week before my second exams of the summer holidays. I slept maybe three hours that week and took a nap before the exams themselves, so my eyebags were less noticeable than they were usually. Good thing my formal pants were comfy enough for me to catch a snooze after the written part of the exam! I had it with only three other people who all looked at me like I was an animal in ZOO. I hissed at them before falling asleep on my arms.

"Mr Bundy-Potter, are you feeling well?" asked me my examiner in Ancient Runes.

"Yes, just a tad bit tired," I tried to rub the sleep out of my eye. She asked me many questions and let me go wild on a blackboard – and wild I went. It was covered in chalk, together with my hands and sleeves that I used instead of a sponge. It started as simple preservation runes, then she asked me something about refrigeration and I made an equivalent of a fully functioning fridge, muggle style, but with magic. There is something like this, called a cooling cabinet, but my creation was far more effective and anything in it could survive a war. "That went off the rails," I cackled shortly.

"Good job, Mr Bundy – you show excellent knowledge and creativity with runes. So you have some creation you prepared especially for this exam?"

"I re-created an Auror-grade magical eye," I shrugged with mad glee when her mouth opened.

"And does it work?"

I abstained from confirming that yes, it works and plopped my fake eye out. She turned slightly green so I for once turned on my decency and cleaned it off on my pants. I will need to use my basic prosthetic eye after such a harsh treatment but it was worth it.

She pulled a monocle out of her breast pocket and looked at it from multiple angles, meanwhile I popped in another eye. It was boring when I couldn't see the flow of magic around me at all times. I picked different runes from the basic Auror eye, not interested in seeing through walls and more importantly, clothing. I preferred my new thermal vision. It couldn't look behind me because it was restricted in my socket but even I can't see an advantage in having a complex contraption on my head just to hold an eye in. This was much more discrete. There are already newspapers with words about my scaring, no need to also talk about a missing eye.

Harry Potter, now called Henry Bundy, has evaded the wizarding world for most of his childhood. He was raised by a simple muggle family and has four siblings that are all muggle. Although not many could believe it, our young saviour was not damaged by his normal and humble upbringing – this reporter was told that just a month ago the young Potter heir came to OWL exams with his father, face and hair covered by clothing uncommon even for muggles.

My source said he was a stressed little boy but the Boy-Who-Lived showed why he managed to survive that night and became the youngest holder of twelve OWLs and not even a month later he came back for NEWTs in Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Potions and Herbology! As I was as curious as you are, dear reader, I looked into his history and found out that our young hero is anything but a simple muggle raised!

And it continued, talking about my speed-run of basic schooling, how well I do in Hogwarts and even pulled out some of my essays. Somehow.

I think I found a new nemesis! (I burned her trashy writing just like I burned Lockart's).

Afterword

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