AN: Hello and welcome. So this is my go at one of the tropes that is probably cliche and overused, but I had a great time reading such stories and decided to give it a go. There are some inconsistencies between this and canon (Harry having knowledge about some people so just assume Harry was a bit more proactive and read more about OotP and DEs during his time in Hogwarts). I won't bother with explaining how exactly time travel happened as it's not important to the story, and will rather start with past already happening. You're free to review, but I'd appreciate them to be constructive ones, rather than writeshaming. If there are mistakes, or the story is inconsistent or whatever, feel free to tell me so, I'll try to fix it, and maybe we end up with a decent story. Who knows.


New Old

How? Harry thought as he ran his hand through his messy hair, and wiped a bit of sweat that had collected over his right eyebrow. Is this possible?

He was sitting at the opposite side of the Great Hall of where he was used to, under the green and silver banners that seemed to mock him with their every flutter, even though there was no wind.

There were many unknown faces around him, and he was certain that any moment someone would figure he didn't belong there and start shouting. His arm never went far from his wand, and his eyes constantly shifted their attention.

But nothing happened.

Slytherins chatted under their voices and were doing the usual; some sneered and kept sending dirty glances all around the hall, some seemed clueless and fully focused on the food in front of them, and some drank tea or coffee, deep in the magazines or newspapers.

Harry was not sure about his course of action.

The figures of Dumbledore and McGonagall provided some gentle comfort, but he knew better than to approach them. He vividly remembered Hermione's words: "Dangerous things happen to wizards who meddle with time," she had said, and he hadn't understood it then. Now, though, the whole plethora of things that could go wrong flashed in his mind, and he was ready to take her words to the heart.

The Dementors in Little Whinging were a lucky coincidence. Or a rather unlucky one. He wasn't sure if they were the ones behind this freakish fiasco, or if they were just the part of Harry's charm, but he knew that their overwhelming presence was the only reason why he hadn't started freaking out the moment he found himself in Hogwarts.

Their dread gave him just enough time to take two deep breaths and to consider the situation to the best of his abilities.

He was quick to determine that it sucked.

"Looking forward to classes, Potter?" The voice startled him, and he was barely on time not to hex the girl that was sitting close to him. Well, closest to.

It was a rather pretty girl, with long, black hair that was tied up in a clumsy ponytail and grey eyes a good chunk of purebloods seemed to share, but Harry couldn't place her. "Yeah," he said, barely keeping his voice even, and wiping a bit of sweat once again. "What about you?"

"Same," she said as she stabbed a small piece of toast with her fork. "We're supposed to learn loads this year."

Harry got the impression the girl talked to him just because she was bored, but he couldn't just pass such an opportunity to learn a thing or two about now. "And your summer?" Harry tried. "Had fun?"

Not too pushy, Harry thought, but it still earned him a raised eyebrow.

"I guess," she finally said. "Father dragged me to France to meet some important people." She chuckled, but Harry heard no humor in it. "You never know when you might need something from the sheep," she continued in a fake deep voice, which in Harry's opinion made a bad impression of her father, even though he had no idea who the man was.

He allowed his mouth to twitch.

"Were you all polite and proper?"

"Of course I was." She put the toast in her mouth, chewed a few times, and added before swallowing, "I'll have you know I'm a real lady."

Harry grinned. "I can see," he said.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him. "Aren't you all chatty this morning, Potter?"

His grin faded. So he had made a blunder. Marvelous. He looked around and saw more than one curious face glancing in their direction as if they saw him for the first time. He supposed they did.

"I had a change of heart." He decided to stick with the truth.

"You did, didn't you?" she said quietly, her voice getting an edge to it. "Interesting."

Harry frowned. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"In Slytherin?" she asked, and her lips stretched in a wide, sharp smile. "Quite."

"Or maybe I just realized how much I was missing by not talking to you," he tried with a grin. If the hat had thought he'd do well in Slytherin, then he'll prove it to be true.

She didn't blush or anything but Harry was certain he could see the tiniest of the smiles on her face. "Oh, I think I'm going to like this new you," she said and Harry saw all the opening he needed.

"Then perhaps introductions are in order," he said, trying to sound how important people do, and puffed his chest, offering his hand. "Harry Potter, the new one."

She said nothing for a few seconds, staring at him, her eyes slightly widened, but just when his spirits started to die, her eyes narrowed, and she blinked, which Harry thought looked unnaturally innocent and cute, and offered her arm. Not to accept his offered hand, but straight, like a zombie would, with her hand loose and her long delicate fingers pointing down.

"Eileen Rosier, at my Lord's service," she breathed out, quietly and coldly, and Harry, understanding the hint, kissed her hand. It was cold.

What a girl.

Harry then shook his head and laughed, her own joining him after a second, and they created a short sort of melody.

"You're not hungry," she said.

"Not really." He shrugged it off. "Never could eat much in the mornings."

"I see," she said in a tone as if he had offered some grand knowledge or a very personal detail about himself. "You can walk me to the common room then."

"Certainly," Harry agreed and pushed himself from the table. "Shall we?"

It was only when they left the Great Hall that Harry risked the glance at Rosier. They were about the same height and walked with some distance between them, like people do when they're forced to walk together with someone they barely know.

"Why didn't you wait for your friends?" Harry asked.

"My friends?" she said, gathering her eyebrows. "I thought I was already with one."

"Sure," Harry said. "But it's a bit random isn't it?"

"I like random."

"Of course you do," Harry muttered, but she must have heard him. Her small smile told him so. "Evan is your brother, right?

She suddenly stopped and turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. "What of him?" she said softly.

"Just wondering." Harry shrugged and was about to continue, but her hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"What of him?" she repeated.

"I was just wondering if you guys are close." Harry did his best to keep his voice even, if a bit curious. It wasn't like he knew much about the guy, except that he ended up being a Death Eater and died by Moody's wand.

She searched his face for another second before pulling her hand back. "We are," she finally said. "But I wasn't aware you took notice of him." She frowned. "You ought not take notice of him."

"You weren't aware of me till this morning," Harry said, ignoring her warning. "You're bound to be surprised once in every while." He tried to ease her with a friendly smile, but it didn't seem to work much.

She made a sound and continued deeper into a dungeon, and Harry followed, quickly shifting himself to reach the previous distance between them. They walked all the way to the Slytherin dorms in silence and Harry used his time to rethink his strange disposal.

He still couldn't place exactly when he was, and silently chided himself for not trying to search for more familiar faces back in the Great Hall. He avoided thinking about Ron and Hermione too, mentally distancing himself. This was just another adventure, and he had more than enough experience with those.

He just had to keep his head cold. As if that ever worked.

A humorless chuckle escaped his throat, earning him a strange glance from Eileen.

"Wormwood," she said and the hole in the wall opened. They walked to the center of the room, a few oddballs around them reading and relaxing. It was a bit awkward as they turned to face one another.

"I'll go up to give one last reread to our assignments," she said but didn't move.

"Alright," Harry said and shifted his weight.

She bit her lip. "Will you be going to lunch?"

"Yeah," he said, and then added unsurely, "I'll meet you there?"

"Oh?" She tilted her head to the side. "Have plans in the meanwhile, haven't you?"

"Err." He winced under her searching look. "I'll hit the library. You know, loads to learn this year," he finished with a confident grin.

"Sure," she said off-handedly, but the most genuine smile Harry saw on her today lit her face. It made her that much more pretty, he couldn't help but notice, and had to look away.

"See you there, then," he said at last, but she was already heading for the girls' room. Alone in the middle of the room, and looking more stupid with each second that passed, he decided to head for his own room. Perhaps there were some clues in his trunk.

To his relief, fifth-year boys' dorms were empty, and he quickly located his own bed. Opening his trunk, however, was an entirely different pair of gloves. It was annoyingly well charmed; even though Harry felt a familiar sting of magic coming from it, it still refused to recognize him as the caster and he had to manually go over all of the charms, one by one, in the correct order. So he countercharmed, jinxed, hexed, undid, and repeated all of it for a good ten minutes before he heard a satisfying clank.

He could be quite clever when he wanted.

The trunk's insides offered a few insights into his new life. It seemed he was an only child of two Potters Harry had never heard about, Charlus and Dorea, both of whom were dead for a year. A neat stack of various bills showed him that he spent the most of summer in different accommodations, be it a muggle motel or Leaky Cauldron. He also seemed to do a bit of shopping; new robes, broom, cauldrons, and potions kit had that gleam about them that only new stuff had.

The thing that certainly surprised him was a stack of books that was half-hidden by his muggle clothes. The thick tomes provided some interesting titles and Harry hummed as he went through them.

Time, and Time Again, one was called, and Harry felt his eyebrows raising up. Was the time itself trying to tell him something? He put it in a cleverly sewed pocket inside his robes that seemed to spread just enough for the book to fit and gave a closer inspection to other titles.

They were all about the subjects he had taken, expanding the topics further, and Harry wasn't sure if time was mocking him or overestimating him.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard was a title that seemed to be an odd one out. The first few sentences told him they were actually stories, probably meant for the kids, but he was interested nonetheless. He never had the chance to properly read one in his time.

"Potter," a familiar voice called him, and Harry turned around. A black hair, longer than his, and almost black eyes. A hint of sneer on his lips, and dark, stained robes. It was a familiar sight Harry had always dreaded to see. It was a single person Harry hated to see, apart from Lord Voldemort.

"Snape," Harry said quietly, and the little color he had left his face. He felt his heart pounding and something raising up his throat. "What are you doing here?" he managed.

"I could ask you the same," Snape said and continued toward his bed. "Not that I care, Potter," he added and Harry heard an extra poison in his voice when he'd said, Potter.

It took Harry a moment to realize why Snape already hated him and then it finally clicked, and his eyes widened. Luckily, Snape was busy fishing things out from his trunk to notice his starting panic attack. There was definitely something in his throat now, and he made a quick way to the toilet, barely managing to keep his vomit in on the way.

He hugged the toilet seat and let it all out, and wanted to do more, even when there was nothing left to leave him. He tried to take a deep breath, but ended up coughing, a bit of saliva falling from his mouth.

"You alright?" Harry heard and turned his head. Snape had a cauldron and some sort of herb in his hands and seemed more curious than concerned as he looked at Harry.

"I'm fine," Harry said after a moment. "Breakfast didn't agree with me."

"Glad to know it's not a morning sickness," Snape said and smirked. "The last thing this world needs is yet another Potter."

Harry gave him a look and hoped he managed to put all his loathing for the man into it. "Sod off, Snape."

Snape slightly raised his chin and said, "Gladly," and left, leaving Harry alone once more.

He was in the same bloody year with his parents!

The thought alone made him dizzy and he quickly went to sit down on his bed, and breathed, deep and slow. They probably hated him too, being Gryffindors and him being Slytherin, he reckoned and shook his head.

1975, he realized, and choked on nothing. Twenty years back. This also meant that Voldemort has been active for a few years, and was preparing a stage for his big entrance. Just excellent.

There was nothing to do, but to figure more about now, and Harry was fairly certain that the library was the best place to begin. So he went.


Harry politely nodded to a librarian, a woman he did not recognize, and was surprised when she just narrowed her eyes at him. Baffled, he went to the history section. He had to start somewhere.

"Hey, Potter," he heard and turned around. Four boys were eyeing him with different levels of amusement, interest, and loathing.

Harry nodded. "Guys," he greeted. "Running a bit late with your assignments, huh?"

"Sure," one said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Why don't you join us?"

Harry shrugged and said. "Sure." He took a seat and asked, "What are you up to?"

"This and that," the same boy said, now definitely smiling, and indicated the one next to Harry with a move of his head. "Mulciber here told me you're a decent sort of wizard."

Harry glanced sideways. Mulciber was a tall guy, with unassuming features if not for a gleaming light in his brown eyes. They were sparkling in a way some eyes do, but Harry never knew how some people managed to pull it off, or were it natural. What he knew is that he found them unnerving.

"I'm certainly striving forward to being seen as a decent sort," Harry said with a smile of his own and the other boy laughed in good humor.

"Fine ambition, I'm sure," he said. "I don't think we were introduced properly. I'm Evan and this." He nudged the boy next to him. "And this is, well, he prefers Avery."

"Avery is fine," Avery said.

"I'm Harry."

"A Slytherin Potter," Mulciber said quietly and looked at Harry as if he had seen him for the first time. "A miracle," he added, his mouth twitching.

"The quiet one," the fourth boy said. His voice was deep and soft, and he had a look about him like he constantly brooded. Harry assumed they were in the same year, as Evan hadn't bothered to introduce them.

"Alright, we got it," Evan said, and looked at Harry, his gray eyes intense but not cold. "Say, have you heard about that march Squibs did another day?"

"Oh?" Harry said, careful to keep his voice even. He thought it was a clever thing to do around people he knew were future Death Eaters.

"Yep," he said, his p nice and long. "They've been about their rights for forever."

"They are not the only ones though, right?" Harry asked quietly. He had a pretty good idea what this talk was about now.

"No," Evan said, amused. "All kinds are demanding to be treated like equals these days, but you seem to know that already." He tilted his head to the side, his eyes firm on Harry's. "Old Abraxas is having none of it, of course, and how he keeps himself in Minister's good graces only Merlin knows. But the thing is that these demands are happening."

"For a while now," Harry added, and nodded.

"Mm," Avery said in a voice that could mean both yes and no. "What Rosier's trying to ask is what do you think about it."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Very subtle, Avery," he said, but there was no venom in his voice. Avery punched him in the shoulder.

Harry took a leap, and said, "About muggles? I don't care much about them as long as they don't bother me. And squibs can march as long as they want, but it's not like they can do something, right?"

Mulciber snickered. "They literally can't. They'd like to come to Hogwarts," he said and scoffed. "As if we need more useless no-good mu- "

"Mulciber," Avery said through his teeth, and Mulciber was quick to narrow his head and stop talking.

"Don't you feel…" Evan trailed.

"Threatened," Avery finished for him, and looked at Harry, frowning. "There's more to being a wizard than having a stick and waving it around. No one seems to care enough to educate those mud-, Muggleborns about it.

"We do," the fourth boy whose name Harry has yet to learn said quietly. "We care," he continued, looking at Avery who raised an eyebrow at him. "But will we do something?"

"That's the thing, Wilkes, why we're talking and all." Evan lowered his voice. "It seems like someone is doing something about it."

"Anyway," Harry interrupted their staring contest. "It's clear to me that everyone here at Hogwarts has enough magic to turn out as a decent wizard, and we all know you must be born with it in order for it to work for you, right? So it's not them who are the problem, but the lack of interest from the ministry in those matters."

"What do you mean?" Avery asked, and seemed like he was actually interested in Harry's opinion.

"That I don't feel threatened because I already have a place in this society. But Muggleborns have no idea what's waiting for them once they leave the castle." It was easy for Harry to speak about it, as he had the same experience. "I think it's them that feels threatened the most, with everyone looking down at them and them not understanding the first thing about families like ours. Or about ministry, for that matter."

"Huh," Evan said, his eyes going left and right. "So what you're saying that you want them...integrated as a part of our society? How would you go about that?"

"Err, I think the biggest problem is that even after Hogwarts they think about themselves as Muggles. That's where they go every summer, and that's where their parents live. It seems kinda natural to me that they'd feel pulled back there later," Harry said and added a sneer for a good measure.

"Hmm," Evan said, still looking unsure. "So you'd break the connection they have to the Muggle world, essentially taking a whole part of their life away, and force them to adjust to our world. If they don't, they won't be able to survive."

"Harsh, Potter," Avery said, and smiled, a look that frightened Harry because of how honest it looked. "I like it. It's not like it's their fault anyway. Grindelwald had the right idea when he had said that we ought to take them in as soon as they show the signs of being magical."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That's what you're for? If it's magical, it belongs here, with us?"

"The fuck you talking about?" Mulciber asked, but Avery's narrowed eyes showed Harry that the older boy already guessed.

"There are many magical species, Mulciber," Harry said. "None of them have the same rights as us. Not even close."

"Please," Mulciber scoffed, but Harry noticed others looked interested. "What would Goblin do with a wand? A centaur with land? A bloody Dementor with a paycheck? Don't be absurd."

Harry shook his head. "Having the same rights means that they could get those if they want them," he said. "Of course, bar Goblins, they don't give a shit about those things. Squibs are marching because they want to learn subjects they can, like potions or herbology, so they can contribute to society. Centaur just wants a place of their own, a forest or whatever. They won't be taking anything from you, us, directly. As I said, I'm not feeling threatened."

"Centaurs are one thing," Avery started, "but Goblins proved they're not to be trusted with any kind of power. And they have their own laws in their holes and caves."

"We're just talking, right?"

Evan slowly nodded. "Yes."

"Alright then. Equal rights doesn't mean sharing power. Give every species an office in the ministry that'll help them settle their own matters, and that's it. We've got the wands and by far the most power about us, at least as far as I've seen. They'd all be stupid to go against us. Our power would never be threatened," Harry said.

"That's a major reform," Evan said, not contradicting.

"They'd never go for it. Heck, even my dad wouldn't go for it," Avery added.

"Muggles are the worst threat anyway," Mulciber said and randomly swung his arm. "And the filth like werewolves and vampires. They'd have us all being like them before they're happy."

"And ministry," added Wilkes, causing all of them to turn their heads toward him. "What?" He raised his hands. "It's their fault for not recognizing threats and acting. It needs to be rebuilt. I'd go so far and say that even ICW is useless by now. They couldn't even stop Grindelwald. How do you think they'll fare once muggles start to attack us?"

"That's the most I've heard you say in a month, Wilkes," Mulciber said with a grin. "I'd say so too. Fuck the ministry and its bans and muggle-loving fools. Fuck 'em all"

"Mulciber!" Avery said forcefully. "Be bloody careful."

He just shrugged. "Potter's fine. I told you so."

"Indeed I am," Harry said and grinned. "A proper, decent wizard."

It was a weird thing for Harry to be seen as fine by Death Eaters, but the last thing he needed was to watch out for them for the next three years. Not that he wasn't on his guard either.

A moment of silence stretched for a long moment.

"Would you join our club then?" Evan asked.

Harry took a sharp breath in. "A-A club?"

Evan shrugged. "Nothing special, mind you. Just the four of us dueling, discussing magic and so," he said. "Imagine it like this, but with more magic involved."

"Oh, right," Harry said and blinked. "I'll let you know when I get my schedule, if that's alright? OWL year, you know." He tried to brush it off.

"Mmm," Evan said and straightened his back, towering over Harry. His sheer presence somehow grew. "Let us know tomorrow, will you?"

"Sure," Harry quickly agreed. "As soon as I get my schedule."

"One last thing, though," Evan said and Harry saw Avery rolling his eyes and Mulciber chucked. Even Wilkes was smirking. "I saw you with my sister earlier."

Harry raised an eyebrow and allowed himself a small smile, feeling braver than he had any right to. "Oh, are you going to warn me now? I've never got one of those."

Mulciber snickered again.

"Yes," Evans said bluntly, leaning a few inches closer to Harry. "She's my sister and she's…"

"Delicate," Avery said knowingly, an innocent expression on his face.

"A flower," Mulciber added quietly and sighed, shaking his head slowly. Harry thought it was a good impression, but the twitching of his mouth somewhat ruined it.

Harry was about to laugh, but Evan's unamused face had him keeping his face unmoved, blank. "We were just talking," he said and was about to continue, but Evan was already standing up, and others followed the motion.

"Later, Potter."

"See you around."

Wilkes nodded, and just like that, they were gone.

Harry finally let out his breath, which felt like he was holding it for the duration of the whole conversation. He had a pretty strong feeling that he is about to join the club that will very soon swear its allegiance to Voldemort, and it left a strange, ugly taste in his mouth.

What was worse was that he couldn't find hate within himself for these people. Whatever he had thought before about them, it was clear that they weren't those people just yet. Wilkes and Evan hadn't yet died in service of Lord Voldemort, Mulciber wasn't in Azkaban, and Avery was not imperiused by Voldemort. They were just a bunch of friends.

Slytherins, the voice in his head added, with a taste for politics and dark magic.

He noticed they have left the book behind them, and the opened chapter appropriately said, Origin of Squibs.

Harry frowned. He was sure that he had once heard some saying that Slytherins do nothing without a reason. So what was this? A message?

Deep in thoughts, Harry too stood up, and, with zero research done, headed back to the Slytherin common room.

He had another Rosier to deal with.


Harry deliberately sat with his back facing the Gryffindor table. He wasn't ready to face his parents. Nor his godfather. Nor the traitor.

"You've been awfully quiet since the library," Eileen said and poured herself a cup of tea, ignoring the food. "Already had another change of heart?"

Harry himself had some food in front of him but didn't feel brave enough to eat it just yet. He was sure all of it would leave his body just a few moments later. "Nothing of the sort," he said instead and raised his head to face her. "Just grateful to be in your company?"

"Is that so?" she asked innocently, but there was more to her voice." The company you've had in the library was not up to your tastes?"

Harry's eyes widened for only a split of seconds but he was sure she had caught it, nosy knowing witch. "I was invited," he said softly. "My tastes are obvious from the fact that I've accepted the invitation, aren't they?"

"Perhaps," she said flatly and took a sip of tea. The moment seemed to last forever. "Just an hour after you asked me about him."

"Mulciber thought it fit to introduce us."

"Mulciber? What in Merlin's name you have on Mulciber?" Harry was confused for a second, but then realized what she must be thinking. It would be a shame to correct her, though, so he blinked, and tilted his head to the side.

"I don't think I'm following," he said, a hint of question in his voice.

She snorted. "Of course you don't."

Harry wasn't sure what to say so he remained silent and pushed a piece of chicken around his plate.

Her eyes followed it. "You're not hungry?"

"Not particularly?"

"Are you on potions?"

"What?" he asked, confused. "You mean like drugs?"

She shrugged, her face betraying nothing. "That or the replacement for the food. Some wizards prefer not to eat."

There was something about the way she had said some that made Harry sure she knew someone who did so. "Just not my day, I guess," he said instead, and grinned. "My plate is kinda full."

She actually giggled and put one hand over her mouth. "Merlin, that was awful," she said

Still, she laughed and he counted it as a win. "So what do you want to do later?" he asked, feeling bold.

"We?" she said, a small smile gracing her lips. "Well, it just so happens that Slughorn's New Schoolyear Dinner requires a date."

"Oh," he said. "Alright then. I'm sure you'll have fun." He had no idea who the man was or what that dinner was but she made it sound important. Her voice did, at least.

"Did you actually just say that?" she said, and Harry saw her mouth becoming a very small, thin line.

He frowned. "Huh?" It took him a whole second of staring at her angry eyes to figure what she wanted, and he felt the heat in his cheeks when he did so. "Oh, right, sorry." He cleared his throat. "Will you allow me to be your date for the dinner party?" he said as pompous as he could, and it somewhat calmed her.

"I'm tempted to think about it, but as the time is short, I'll gracefully accept."

"Why thank you," he said and grinned, as charmingly as he could. "So what are we going to do now?"

"Girls will want to catch up with me," she said, and I followed her eyes down the table. The two pretty girls sat a bit excluded from the rest and animatedly chatted, their heads close, and their smiles strangely similar to ones he remembered Lavender and Parvati sporting. "And then I'll prepare for the dinner."

"What? But that's hours later." Harry said.

She just raised an eyebrow at him and gave him such a look that he felt as twice as stupid as usually.

"Right," he said. "Whatever."

"You can go to the library," she said sweetly and he rolled his eyes. She was apparently done with her tea. "Just don't embarrass me."

Without another word, she left, leaving Harry alone, with his mouth slightly open.

A voice, coming from down the bench, suddenly startled Harry. "A date, huh?" Evan wore a pleasant expression, but the words were just a bit too sweet.

"I too have just learned about it," Harry said and raised his hands.

Evan frowned and his face remained in a curious expression. "I've been thinking, Potter."

"And how did you like the experience?"

He did smile. "I'm not much about coincidences," he said and his massive shoulders did a small shrug. "And here you, basically a ghost for the last four years, somehow got to talk to both me and my sister in a single day."

"Lucky me," Harry muttered, but Evan remained serious.

"It means," he continued. "That you decided to throw yourself with our lot." Harry didn't bother to comment, but the implication made him concerned. It wasn't even his fault that he got here. It just happened. But he could also understand Evan's train of thoughts, and he knew there was no means known to a wizardkind to go in the future so he smiled and inclined his head.

"It's a good lot to be part of," he said.

Evan slowly nodded. "It is," he said and made a small pause. "We often thought about your sorting, you know. Was it fluke or some hidden brilliance pushing you towards us? Lucius reminded us that your mother was actually Slytherin. Still, very unusual for Potter to end up here."

"That's nice," Harry said, but it failed to ruffle Evan.

"It was clever of you to walk alone, sure, if you've wanted to avoid trouble, but now that you've chosen side, it might be a tad different."

"I wasn't aware there are sides," Harry said.

"Oh, don't be naive," Evan said humorlessly and nodded toward the other tables. "Look at them. The things happened and they're already placing the blame on us."

Harry turned around, carefully avoiding Gryffindor's table, and looked. And he saw. More than one face was openly staring back at them, and there were even more glancing towards this or that kid. Harry was quick to figure out the surnames of those kids. There was a single emotion in all those eyes, clear as day. It was hate, plain and simple.

"You see it, don't you?" Evan said softly.

Harry felt many things, but the confusion was the most prominent of them all, and he felt his chest going heavy. Back at home, everything seemed so easy; he knew who he loved and who he hated, he knew what he was all about, and he knew his goal was to survive and to kick Voldemort's pale bottom back from where it came.

Here, though, everything was scary and new, strange and unpredictable.

He looked at the professors' table and saw Dumbledore. He was surprised to see the old man watching the Slytherin table, looking terribly sad and grim. But he also saw something deeper in Dumbledore's eyes; the same look Dudley had when he watched the new kids who arrived at Privet Drive for whatever reason. He was assessing them.

Their eyes met, and it took Harry a whole second to figure out this man wouldn't be his friend this time. He was still mad at Dumbledore. He received zero letters and news from both Dumbledore and his friends and he was more than sure about the reason behind that.

Harry was aware that Dumbledore's heart was at the right place, but he also knew that he didn't know the man back in the 70s. Better safe than sorry, indeed.

Harry turned back to Evans. "So will you tell me more about our side then?" he asked.

Evan laughed. "Easy, kid. Gotta learn walking before you go running, right?"

"Your club, huh?"

"Our club," Evan corrected and Harry couldn't help but smile. "If you have questions, ask."

"Exactly what kind of magic do you talk about?"

"We talk about magic that interests us. We cast whatever we want to." Evan shrugged. "We're quite liberal in that sense."

"You won't push me if I don't feel comfortable with whatever the magic?"

He raised his eyebrows. "No. We've all had...tutoring from our parents and we know there are branches within branches of magic, and that some might, well, change you. It's like you said about equal rights. The freedom to practice the magic you want is what makes the difference. If you don't want to, that's fine, but don't poke your nose in my business either."

"Live and let live, huh?"

"Just so," Evan said and smirked.

The two sat in the comfortable silence, each in their own thoughts. Perhaps Evan and his group were the best way for Harry to survive and to get rid of Voldemort. All he needed to do was to wait for his younger self to banish him into nothingness for ten years.

But at the price of your parents, a voice in his head reminded him.

Harry was once again reminded that he needed more information about now. About what was going on. There was also one thing that he never considered back then, but it was clear that he will have to look into it at this point.

What is this war all about?