Disclaimer : This work is a fanfiction based off of the Harry Potter Universe created by J.K Rowling. Any Characters, plots and settings already established in this universe belong exclusively to her. I do not nor will I ever claim ownership over them.

I'd also like to point out that the formatting of the location, time and date of each scene is taken from ACI100 with his permission, somebody that I follow on Discord. His stories are truly a work of art and inspired me to write my own so I'd advise also checking his profile out on this site. This will eventually turn into a Multi POV story like his so it is there so as to not completely confuse people. His formatting makes sense and is easy to follow.

Feel free to leave reviews letting me know your thoughts on each chapter or on the story as a whole as I dive further into it. Praise and constructive criticism are both welcome, though outright insults over my writing are not. Anyone who has attempted to write a story knows how much harder it is than it looks and we are all nervous to put our work into the world. We don't need to be made to feel like crap.

The same goes for any mistakes you may find like punctuation, grammar or spelling. I do make it a point to re-read my work thoroughly but there may be things I miss because I am not a robot so feel free to point out things I may have missed if you spot anything. Don't go batshit insane over it like I've seen some people do on here for other works.


AUTHOR'S NOTE :

To the guest who left a review in chapter 4 about using Magnusdotter, instead of Magnusson, I believe that the use of Patronymic names in Sweden, which Diana is from in this story, was abolished in 1963, using family names instead. In this case, Magnusson is her family name which she uses. I also believe there used to be a female badminton player from Sweden that has the same surname. If any of what I have just said is incorrect, feel free to comment, as I am by no means an expert, but I thought I would explain it for that guest who commented.


Thanks and Enjoy.


Harry Potter and The Forsaken's Awakening

Year One - The Diverging Paths

Chapter Five - Letters, Potters and Friends


September 2nd, 1991

Slytherin Common Room

7:12 am

Harry's nature of waking early had not diminished in the slightest, if the time he had risen was anything to go by. A quick Tempus Charm against his wrist when he had awoken had revealed the time to be a couple minutes after six o'clock.

Sitting up and going through his usual mental exercises had become routine by this point, and Hogwarts would not change that. It had taken longer than usual to calm this mind, but he couldn't help feeling restless and a little excited. He would be learning magic today, after all. What kind of witch or wizard wouldn't be excited at that prospect?

By the time he had showered in the very expensive looking bathroom, dressed in his uniform and headed down to the common room, rucksack slung over his shoulder and his charms book in hand, it was just shy of seven o'clock.

That led him to now.

Sitting in a cosy armchair near but not too near the fire, as he didn't fancy being on the receiving end of several curses this morning, he was struggling, for the first time ever, to actually read the words in front of him. Not that he didn't understand them, because he did. His mind was just in far more interesting places.

Like what magic he would be learning that day.

Would be he taking Charms or Transfiguration? Perhaps History? Or maybe even Herbology?

The only lesson he thought he wouldn't have, at least during the day, was Astronomy. He would be lying if he said he expected that class to be hard for him. After viewing the stars one night, one of his most treasured memories at the Dursleys, Harry had made it a point to research stars and learn their constellations, names and everything in between that he could find.

That still left six other classes he could take, though.

He actually didn't expect any classes to be hard, except maybe Potions. The wanded subjects, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Charms, Harry felt like he knew enough to get him through at least the first few weeks depending on how fast they progressed through the curriculum. History was just memorising dates and facts for the most part, and Herbology was essentially gardening, something Harry had plenty of experience doing.

Even Potions seemed very similar to cooking. Harry had been cooking for seven years already, and if they had instructions to follow when making these potions, he didn't expect that it would challenge him.

Before he had much of a chance to ponder on it more, though, the entrance to the common room slid open, and Harry tore his gaze away from his book to see Aria entering the common room, already dressed in her uniform and clearly ready for the day. It made him sit straighter in surprise, he hadn't thought anyone else was up yet, let alone already having left the common room.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting to see anyone down here this early," she said, expression brightening when she laid eyes on him.

"I've always been an early riser."

"Same. I've been up since quarter to six."

"Six for me."

She came over and sat one leg crossed over the other on the arm of his chair, looking at his material over his shoulder. He tensed slightly at their close proximity, but not anywhere near what he had yesterday when she'd put her hand on his shoulder.

"Charms, huh? Need any help?"

"You any good?" He countered, looking up at her with a raised brow, a little smirk pulling at his lips.

"I'll have you know I am good at everything, thank you very much," she said haughtily, jutting her chin out, though the gleam in her eye let him know that she wasn't offended by his casual questioning of her skill. When all she received was his still raised eyebrow, she smirked before going back to her normal posture and tone.

"It's my best subject, which is actually saying a lot, considering I got top marks in every subject and finished first in my year academically last year."

"Did you get an O+ in it?" he asked curiously.

O+ marks were only awarded for perfect scores on the end of year tests, theory and practical if there was one, as Hogwarts: A History had been kind enough to mention, for which you really had to not only know the theory, but show you truly understood it to get full marks. Every mark had three categories: minus, standard and plus, given accordingly in percentile boundaries.

To get an O+ was a lot harder than it seemed, especially in first year.

"I did, yes," Aria replied, looking very proud of herself. "I also got an O+ in Potions, and O's in all the rest, but I'm better at Charms than I am Potions."

"Impressive. I can't imagine many people getting one O+ in their first year, let alone two."

"The record's four, set by Merlin and matched by Dumbledore and some Riddle woman fifty years ago." She sighed, sounding rather pained about the whole thing. "I was very close in Transfiguration and Astronomy, but I missed a couple of marks on the theory for both. I'll admit I would have very much liked to match them."

"You'd have only had it for a year, anyway."

"Oh?" She enquired, raising a delicate eyebrow at him

"I'm going to get at least five."

The conviction with which he said such a thing stopped the laughter that might have escaped her otherwise.

Instead, she simply nodded.

"I guess we'll see, won't we?"

Harry simply smirked in reply. All of them would see.

They were silent for a while as other Slytherins started making their way down. None from his year, yet, but that would change soon enough.

"Thanks again, for last night … I know we aren't friends or anything … you didn't have to stick up for me like that."

Merlin, why did he have to be so awkward when it came to thanking someone? He caught her glance at him from the corner of his eye, a frown marring her features for a second.

"Just because we technically aren't 'friends'," she drew air quotes around the word, "yet, doesn't mean we won't be, or that I should've let them bully or hurt you for no reason other than your name." When he turned his head more towards her, she smiled at him, "Besides, like I said last night, I like you well enough."

"You told me yesterday Slytherins don't do anything for free?"

"Who says I'm doing it for free?"

Harry sighed, looking back down at his book. Of course there was a caveat involved for people to actually want to be around him. Why couldn't he just have friends who wanted nothing more than to hang out with him?

"What do you want in return?" he asked her quietly.

"Nothing, other than your trust and honesty. I'm curious about you," she elaborated, when she received a confused stare. "An heir appears out of the blue after being kept from all public view for a decade. An heir who seems tense and unsure of himself, who doesn't wear his heirship ring, and if what I heard last night is any indication, doesn't want much to do with Dumbledore, even though your family is about as Liberal as you can get."

The Liberals were one of three factions in the Wizengamot, headed by Albus Dumbledore. They were essentially regarded as the 'light' faction, the ones who were more accepting of muggles and muggleborns, and their ways.

On the opposite side of the spectrum were the Traditionalists, led by Lucius Malfoy, Aria's father. The so-called 'dark' faction, which were not pro-muggle and strictly upheld wizarding traditions of years gone by, hence the faction name.

The Republicans were the middle ground. The 'neutrals' as it were, fluctuating from a lighter grey to a darker one depending on circumstance, and at the helm of that faction was the current Minister of Magic, Bartemius Crouch Sr.

"I'm not my family," Harry murmured bitterly.

"Clearly, otherwise you wouldn't be here. It's probably for that reason more than any other as to why I want to get to know you better."

There was a moment in which Harry was silent, mulling over the offer. He didn't and hadn't trusted anyone in his entire life, and he doubted he would fully trust anyone, including her, but he thought he might be able to grow to at least somewhat trust her over time.

"I don't expect you to completely trust me right away and can tell that you don't, though if you did I would think less of you, being in Slytherin and all" Aria continued, perhaps mistaking his silence for rejection. "But I do hope that eventually, you feel that you can trust me."

"Trust and honesty are both two way streets. How can I do either with you without knowing if you'll do the same for me?"

"There's nothing I can do other than give you my word on that. Not even the unbreakable vow is completely fool proof, despite the name."

"What's the point of it, then?" Harry asked, who wasn't even sure what an unbreakable vow was.

"Most people don't know how to get out of one. That information and all books on it were banned years ago, even if everyone still knows that they exist. Well, all magical raised people do, anyway."

"You know how to get out of one, I take it?" he asked her.

"I do."

"How do you know something like that if the information is banned from being public knowledge?"

Aria smirked. "It just so happens that my family doesn't care about what's banned or not."

Harry knew that, at least for now, she wasn't willing to share anything else on the matter, so they left the conversation there. He had been so caught up in it, that he hadn't noticed a few of his year mates come down. Draco Malfoy had come down with Crabbe and Goyle, and Bulstrode was sitting with them far enough away from Harry that he had no chance of hearing what they were saying.

Aria, seeing where he was throwing glances at, did the same before turning back to him.

"Well done with him last night, by the way," she said quietly, so that they wouldn't be overheard. "If there is ever a good way to discredit someone in our house, it's bringing to light their lack of respect in showing proper custom. You were right about our father, too. He's not going to be impressed when he hears about it."

Harry made a non-committal sound of agreement, wondering exactly how her father would find out, yet not asking, mainly because he didn't think she was likely to tell him at this moment in time.

"I don't think I did as much as I thought I had," he replied, gesturing to the three that sat around him.

She leaned in closer. "Between the two of us, those three are probably the most stupid people I've ever met in my life. Trust me when I say you aren't missing much by not having them in your own group. The ones you will want are Greengrass, Zabini and Nott. Not only do they all have high standing politically, but they are all smart academically and otherwise."

How she would know something like that, he had no idea, but he decided to take her word for it. She had been nothing but helpful, so far.

"What about Davis and Parkinson?"

Aria shrugged. "Neither are particularly smart, but they aren't stupid, either. Parkinson will stay with my brother, at least for the time being. She's had a crush on him since they met years ago, so it would take something monumental to get her on your side. Davis is the one I'm not sure about. She could go either way, but you'll need her, if only to even the numbers."

"You think Greengrass, Zabini and Nott will pick me? I've barely done anything yet."

There was a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Judging by last night, I think you'll be surprised to see exactly how much you did. Those three have known Draco since they were toddlers, yet they decided to walk here with you last night, and Zabini and Nott instantly chose you to be the third person in their dorm. Not only that, but they stepped up either side of you when told to pick their group."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Placement in a group is everything. Where you stand, especially in a group of three or more, says everything about how you should be viewed to everyone else looking in. The person in the middle is regarded as the leader. Zabini and Nott undoubtedly knew what they were doing last night when they stepped either side of you. They could have chosen to stand next to you as they already were when Snape was talking to you, but they didn't. They and Greengrass recognised your potential at the feast. I have no doubt they will join you."

Just then, the girl in question came down the stairs, scanning the room. Her eyes found Malfoy and his group, before sweeping her eyes over the rest of them until they found the two of them.

There wasn't even a glance back towards Malfoy before she walked straight over to him and Aria. Harry had to admit that he very much enjoyed the wide eyed and red-tinted cheeks of the second Malfoy child when watching the back of the Greengrass Heiress.

"Do you mind if I sit?" she asked, indicating the armchair across from him.

Harry glanced at Aria, who was shooting him a look that quite clearly said 'I told you so', before returning his gaze to the girl that had questioned him.

"Not at all, Heiress Greengrass."

Lips tilted upwards, she relaxed into the chair, opening her own book on Potions that looked incredibly advanced and nothing like he had seen on his Hogwarts list, or in Flourish and Blotts for that matter. Perhaps she had taken some private tutoring in the subject before Hogwarts?

It wasn't long before Zabini and Nott came down together, and just as Aria had predicted earlier, made their way over, completely ignoring Malfoy as Greengrass had done. They greeted him by surname, nodding to him and receiving his own nod in return, before doing the same with Greengrass, only differing by addressing her by her first name.

It indicated familiarity with each other, just as Aria had told him.

Said girl took the opportunity to say goodbye, then, as Lestrange and his friends had now entered the common room. Aria made her way over to them, waving to them as she went.

Parkinson came down dead on eight o'clock, and predictably moved to sit with Malfoy, though to his surprise, she had glanced his way several times and hesitated before doing so, making Harry wonder if complimenting her family's business had done more in unsettling her than he had believed, or if the presence of Greengrass, Zabini and Nott by his side had made her rethink her decision.

Either way, Malfoy lost some of the angry blotches on his cheeks because of it, and was now sending darting glances over to the staircase, awaiting the final member of their year group. He vaguely noted that the upper years were now throwing glances to their groups every so often, whispering to each other.

When Davis eventually did enter the common room five minutes later, every noise around the room came to a screeching halt, and the tension slowly being built up in the room built up like an orchestra playing its final crescendo. Even Greengrass looked up from her book, having felt the change.

Davis seemed to know exactly the situation she found herself in, looking from one group to the other, her feet planted. It was clearly not a decision she wanted to make, for fear of alienating herself from the other group if the group she did choose ended up on the losing side.

Harry couldn't say he blamed her.

He wouldn't want to, either.

Eventually, though, she did move, her feet carrying a body that did not want to move, footsteps echoing through the room with every eye upon her until she sat herself next to Parkinson.

She had chosen Malfoy.

"Shit," Nott muttered for the four of them to hear as they looked over at Malfoy's now smug face. "Six against four isn't good odds."

"It doesn't matter," Harry replied swiftly, gaining their attention. "They might have the numbers, but from everything I've been told, we definitely have the brains. We should be more than a match for them. I'd even say we still have the advantage, with or without Davis."

"Agreed," Greengrass said, packing her book up as the prefects from the night before, Christopher Vincento and Jessie Lionheart, started packing up their own things. "I, for one, don't regret my choice."

"Me neither," Zabini commented as they all stood. "Crabbe and Goyle are complete idiots, and Bulstrode doesn't seem like the brightest lumos around."

"She isn't," Nott affirmed. "I've met her a couple times. She isn't quite as bad as Crabbe and Goyle, but she isn't what I would call average, let alone smart."

So, it was essentially four of them against three of Malfoy's group, including Malfoy himself, and to make it even better, Harry had managed to get the three smarter first years other than himself on his side.

He almost laughed as the prefects beckoned them over.

This was going to be even easier than he thought.


September 2nd, 1991

The Great Hall, Hogwarts

8:27 am

The walk to the Great Hall was much faster than the night before when they had gone down to the dungeons, making it in just under ten minutes, compared to the near twenty it had taken last night, though that was probably because they were not tired and walking slower than usual this morning.

And yet, some Slytherins had beaten them there, having left the common room after them. Harry thought there must be a secret passageway or something that made the journey even faster, and he resolved to find it before the winter holidays. Cutting down on the time it would take to travel around sounded like a great idea, given the size of the castle.

He did not want to spend his entire day rushing to every class because of the time it would take to reach them, especially as the prefects had told them that they were expected to make their own way from now on.

They had taken seats at the far end of the table by the head table, something he had learned from Aria the day before on the train was the space reserved for first-years that had not been beckoned over to a different spot by an older student. It was very clearly set up with in-house politics in mind, and he was even more thankful for Aria telling him about these things beforehand.

He would've sat closest to the door where the seventh years sat and been slaughtered for it, otherwise.

It was something that was making him lean more towards accepting her offer. She hadn't needed to tell him all of those things. She could have let him suffer, but she hadn't, when anybody else probably would have.

They all sat there, at the end of the table, his and Malfoy's group, though he didn't pay them any attention. Davis had attempted to talk to Greengrass when they all first sat down, but she had received a dirty look in return and Greengrass had ignored the other girl.

According to her, Davis had told her last night that she would be joining them, before going back on her word and joining Malfoy. It didn't really matter to him in the grand scheme of things, if he was being completely honest about it.

They would all submit when he was sitting at the head of that lounge.

The whispering and mutterings around the hall picked up, and Harry caught his brother and Weasley entering the hall together, both looking as though they had just got out of bed and yawning widely. Clearly, neither were used to waking up early. Evan had no need, after all, with mummy catering to his every need, and Harry couldn't imagine Weasley - despite his family's obvious lack of wealth - was much different in terms of being able to pretty much do whatever he wanted at home.

The boy had an arrogance about him that did not befit someone of his station. Either Evan had managed to create himself a ginger doppelganger, or Weasley was not used to being told he couldn't do something at home, because he couldn't see how else that arrogance would come about.

His family were not rich, even though they were a Most Ancient House. The boy wore obvious hand-me-downs, and from his years of experience, he would be someone to recognise it. They were of poor quality, too. Even he could see that. He wasn't intelligent, judging by his remarks the night before about a troll being part of their sorting ceremony.

He imagined the truth was both. Evan probably had rubbed off on him at least a little bit, and Weasley probably did whatever he wanted at home, and had probably visited Potter Manor a lot and been allowed to do as he wished with Evan.

The thought that Weasley had been inside his ancestral home and he had not made him want to throw up.

Thankfully, his breakfast was not spewed all over the table, but he was interrupted from his musings by the post owls. Hundreds of birds soaring through the room above them, landing in front of their owners and depositing letters.

Harry wasn't expecting anything, because he didn't really know anyone outside of Hogwarts, certainly not in the magical world, which was why he was so surprised when not one, but two owls landed in front of him, each with a letter.

Frowning, Harry took the letters and waited for both owls to fly off before examining the envelopes. One was pretty standard, normal parchment with a simple wax seal. There was nothing that could identify it.

The other was made from higher quality parchment, and there was a crest on the wax seal holding it together. It was one he recognised.

The Potter crest.

So, his mother had finally decided to write to him, had she? She was only ten years late in wanting to have anything to do with him, and Harry wondered if he would just rather burn the letter in his hands and have nothing to do with her than actually read it.

He couldn't though, and he realised that. Not only was he curious as to what she had written, but it really wasn't worth the questions and probing he would get if he did such a thing.

A sheet landed in front of him from over his shoulder, and Harry turned to see Snape standing there, looking at his letter, more specifically, the crest he himself had been looking at, with a look that seemed angry and something else, which puzzled him.

"Thank you, sir."

Snape's eyes snapped towards him, and softened, if Harry had to use a term to describe the way the anger dissipated within those cold eyes. With a curt nod, the man continued down the table, handing everyone what Harry understood a moment later to be their timetables.

That had certainly been odd.

He was lucky that none of his acquaintances had called him out and asked what that was about, because he wouldn't know how to answer it. He wasn't exempt from other questioning, though.

"Who are those from?"

It had been Zabini, who was sitting opposite Greengrass next to him, who had asked, his eyes scanning the letters in Harry's hand. Harry, having no reason to lie or not tell him, responded.

"One is from my mother, I believe."

"And the other?"

"No idea," Harry said honestly, pocketing both of them, intending to open them after class. Opening letters at a table where people could read them over his shoulder was just about the stupidest thing someone in his situation could do, especially if he did not want other people to learn of it.

He very much doubted the respect he had already gained for himself would stick if it were to get out that he had been raised by muggles.

Shaking his head, Harry glanced down at this timetable, committing it to memory. They would start with Herbology, today, before having a single Charms lesson before lunch and double Transfiguration for the afternoon.

A good start to his magical education, he would say.


Herbology was simple enough to find. The greenhouses were easy to spot from the door to the Entrance Hall leading out to the grounds. Like last night, his new allies had walked either side of him, allowing him the middle spot.

This time, though, Greengrass was on his right and Nott on his left. Zabini walked behind the gap between himself and Greengrass.

It was expected, he supposed. Zabini had the lowest ranked House between the four of them, with himself, Greengrass and Nott all coming from Founding Houses, while House Zabini was only Ancient and Noble. It made sense that he would take the back seat while the three of them led the group, for all that he actually did any leading.

The Ravenclaws, whom they would apparently be sharing the class with, were walking ahead of Malfoy's group, who were at least fifteen metres ahead of his own, and it wasn't long before they were all beckoned inside by a dumpy sort of woman with thinning, grey hair that introduced herself as Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff.

When the bell went at exactly nine o'clock, signalling the start of the lesson, the woman started, signalling them to place themselves around the table. He couldn't help noticing that the people he hung out with always made sure there was at least one of them between him and Malfoy's group. They had done it at breakfast, too.

They were protecting him from Malfoy's group, making sure he wasn't harmed in any way. He was oddly warmed by the gesture, even if he found it completely laughable. If a confrontation broke out between him and any of Malfoy's group, he would not be on the losing side of it.

"Good morning, and welcome to your first class at Hogwarts," Professor Sprout started, "As I mentioned earlier, my name is Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff and Herbology teacher, a subject that you will be taught for a minimum of five years in your education here, though I do hope you to see you all for the entirety of your seven years in this castle."

Looking around the room, we could quite clearly see that other than Greengrass, and perhaps himself, nobody seemed quite fond of the idea of spending more than the bare minimum time in the greenhouses.

If Professor Sprout had noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, she simply carried on talking, and started going over the curriculum for what would be the five years before they took their O.W.L examinations. It was a long and tedious lecture, but Harry paid attention throughout, not wanting to miss anything.

It seemed simple enough, in any case.

After that, they were questioned on their knowledge of the subject already. Harry, who had not progressed very far into One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi because of his attention being directed towards other subjects and the workings of the magical world, named a couple he remembered reading about, including Devil Snare, a dangerous, tentacle like plant that strangled anything it touched.

It apparently only liked dark and damp places, so light and fire were key in defeating it. Harry, who could conjure both without a wand effortlessly, did not see a world in which he struggled in any way, shape or form with dealing with it should he ever come across the plant.

It became very obvious, very quickly, though, that Greengrass was simply in a league of her own in the subject, as she rattled off extensive knowledge of over a dozen magical plants one after the other. Only a couple of Ravenclaws had known about one or two plants Harry hadn't mentioned, yet by the time Greengrass was done, Harry had counted seventeen plants she had mentioned, and he had the feeling she could have kept going quite easily.

It was very impressive, and it all but confirmed Harry's theory that she most definitely had been tutored before coming to Hogwarts. True, she could've learned all of that in a book, but he didn't think so.

She spoke with the confidence and knowledge of someone that had been taught these things by an expert.

He would be stunned if she didn't receive an O+ on the subject come the end of the year.

Harry was suddenly very grateful she was standing next to him, because she could clearly handle herself when it came to Herbology.

Soon enough, the bell rang, and they all made their way back inside, Harry and his group following the crowd since they did not know where they were going for their Charms lesson.

"That was an impressive showing, Greengrass," Harry complimented, earning him a small smile from the girl in question.

"Thanks. One of the businesses my family owns has to do with importing and exporting various plants and fungi from around the world, so I've been taught a lot in the subject."

"Any other subjects you happen to be a prodigy in?" Harry asked in a teasing tone.

"Potions," she answered with a grin. "I'm even better at Potions."

Even better than she was in Herbology? Merlin … that was scary. It was also hugely valuable and advantageous, something Harry planned on hopefully exploiting.

"Then I hope you don't mind if I ask you to sit by me in Potions, tomorrow? If you are as good as you say you are, I could use your expertise."

"Perhaps," she replied, still grinning. "It wouldn't be very kind of me to allow you to remain incompetent, after all."

He snorted at that. Leave it to her to regard anyone beneath her skill level as incompetent. Although, he supposed to anyone probably would seem that way compared to her if she really was that good. She had made everyone look like an idiot compared to her in Herbology. If Potions was truly her better subject of the two, he could only imagine the chasm between her and the next best brewer in their year, whomever it might be.

Still, he couldn't be regarded as incompetent if he had never brewed a potion before.

He said as much to her.

"Didn't your mother teach you anything? She has one of the highest marks in her N.E.W.T Potions exam this century."

There was no accusation in her voice when she asked him, only inquisitiveness, yet Harry couldn't stop the bite from escaping his voice when he answered her.

"No."

Greengrass shot him a look, perhaps wondering if she had somehow stumbled upon something that needed further questioning, but eventually decided against doing so, choosing to nod and say nothing more on the subject, something he was silently grateful for.

They ended up arriving late to Charms, not that it was a big surprise considering none of them knew where they were going. The Hufflepuffs had obviously beaten them there. Their lesson had been inside the castle, after all. It was taken in good spirit by their teacher, though.

Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who needed to stand on a pile of books on his chair just to see over his own desk, which actually looked quite amusing, in Harry's opinion. He was also head of Ravenclaw. There had been a moment during the register in which he had paused at Harry's name and almost fallen off of the pile of said books in his apparent excitement, but gathered himself in time and continued on as if nothing had happened, something which suited Harry just fine.

Flitwick, like Sprout, went on and on about the expectations of the course and the curriculum. It was dreadfully dull, and Harry realised upon listening to the man explain what would be required of them for the year that he had already reached up to Easter in what they would be learning practically.

They were also told why Charms was apparently the most important bit of magic one could learn, as it was probably the most versatile magic they would learn at Hogwarts according to their teacher, and apparently one of the branches of magic required to perform any feat of magic. Charms specifically weren't necessary for every bit of magic, but if one was casting a spell that wasn't a branch of Transfiguration of some kind, it was technically a variant of Charms, according to their esteemed Professor.

Harry actually disagreed with Flitwick that charms were the most versatile branch of magic. Technically, all you could do with it was cast spells. Arithmancy, on the other hand, opened up all sorts of different things one could accomplish. Spell and Potion crafting, warding and the creation of magical objects were just a few of the things he could name off the top of his head.

It was such a shame he couldn't take that class until third year. His self-study would just have to do, for now.

Luckily, they had gotten to spend the last ten minutes of the class practising the wand lighting, and light extinguishing spells, something Harry had absolutely no trouble with. Neither did anyone else in the class, either.

Not even Crabbe and Goyle had failed to do it by the time the bell rang for lunch.

Eating as much as Zabini and Nott were was not in the cards, and even Greengrass was eating more than him, and sent him several concerned glances over the course of the meal, to which he replied that he wasn't all that hungry, even though he was. He was famished, actually, but years of conditioning to not eat a lot of food meant that he simply wasn't capable of eating regular sized portions.

He hoped he would be able to build himself up to eat more. He knew he wasn't a healthy weight for his age and height, and he did want to put on weight so that he didn't look as though a stiff breeze could knock him over.

Greengrass, Zabini and Nott talked among themselves for the duration of the break, though Harry did participate when he was asked questions he was okay with answering. It wasn't worth mentioning how out of depth he felt around them when they were like this, since they would probably laugh at him. They all clearly knew each other and had spent years building up a friendship between them, and he didn't even know where to begin integrating himself into that.

He had never had a friend. He had no experience in how to go about making one, either, especially when they already seemed to be happy with the friendships they had.

He felt like an outsider in a group he was apparently supposed to be leading.

And it hurt.

It hurt because he had no idea how to change that.

And he wanted to change it.

He wanted to fit in and have friends like everyone else did.

He didn't want to be a freak anymore.

He wanted to be normal.

Finishing his lunch in silence, Harry got up and excused himself, not giving a reason as to his sudden departure when they asked where he was going. He needed to be alone and gather his thoughts before they consumed him and sent him into depression.

He ended up wandering around the castle, trying to contain the pain he felt at being so useless at something so simple as making friends. He was not stupid enough to think that the three people he had hung around all day considered him a friend. They only thought of him as the leader of the group, and he still didn't understand why they had even picked him to begin with.

Each of them had known Malfoy since they were little, yet they had ditched his group the first chance they got and came over to him. Even amongst the three of them, Greengrass was clearly leadership material. She was confident, outspoken and clearly knew how to navigate a conversation, all of which he was not capable of. Her family was at the same political standing that his family was and she probably had more money than he did, too, with her family owning several businesses.

He didn't understand, and he felt like a fraud because of it.

This method of trying to stop his thoughts was not working. Harry needed something to distract him from them.

Slinging his bag off, he opened it and took out the two letters he had received that morning at breakfast. He had found the Transfiguration classroom on the second floor and was currently standing outside the door leading to it, so he could afford to lose track of time.

Deciding to open the one that didn't have his family crest on it, Harry was surprised that the sender, that he now knew the name of having checked the bottom of the letter first, had sent him something.

Harry,

I had rather hoped you might decide to write to me over the remainder of the summer after we met in Diagon Alley, but I completely understand why you wouldn't want to. I'm a stranger in your eyes, despite the relationship I've had with your father and family over the years. You didn't grow up with them, after all, and I can't imagine after learning everything you have so far, that you would be all that trusting of people close to them.

I'm not even certain if you purchased an owl when shopping for your school supplies. I know I didn't my first year, because I didn't have anyone outside of my parents that I could speak to outside of Hogwarts, and I knew going there that they had their own owls for people who didn't own one themselves, so I never bothered.

I can't imagine you were any different in that regard, only that I can't imagine you wanting to write to Petunia. That woman never did like anything to do with magic.

So, I decided I would write to you, instead. I enjoyed speaking with you in Flourish and Blotts, and I'd like to continue communicating with you through letters to each other, if you're agreeable.

We can talk about anything you like, if you're willing, and it can stay between us too, if you'd prefer. I know Lily especially, would demand to see each letter you give me if she were to learn that we were communicating. Dumbledore would as well, now that I think about it. Both of them can be a bit ... overbearing sometimes, is the word I'm looking for.

Nothing we speak about has to be shared to anybody, if you wish. You have my word on that.

I suppose I should ask some questions, if you do decide to continue writing to me. As of writing this, you are on your way to Hogwarts, but I know that by the time you receive this, you will already have been sorted. What house were you sorted into? I believe I can guess based on what I saw in July, but I would like to hear from you.

Did you sit with anyone on the Hogwarts Express? I know Evan would have looked for you, because he is not patient in the slightest. Did you sit with him? Have you even spoken with him, yet? Have you made any friends yet? Or even some friendly acquaintances if you sat alone on the Express?

How are the Arithmancy books I showed you treating you so far? I can't say it was a subject I took in school, so I'm not the person to ask questions about it if you have any. You're better off asking Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher, or even Professor Magnusson, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

I'm quite familiar with Hogwarts' newest teacher. She, too, knew your parents well, as they worked together for a good year and a half before the end of the war, and I know she would be happy to answer any questions you have about magic. She is very knowledgeable in lots of areas of magic, even those that aren't taught at Hogwarts.

Anyway, I'll leave this letter here, before it gets too long. Do write back, even if it's to tell me you don't wish to continue writing to each other. As I said, I would understand if you chose not to, but I thought I would at least try for your sake, so that you know someone out there cares about your well-being.

I owe James that much, at least ...

Best regards,

Peter Pettigrew.

When reflecting on the letter later, Harry knew he should not have been surprised that Peter had been the one to send him the letter, but at that moment in time, he was shocked that the man he'd run into nearly two months ago had not only remembered him, but had taken the time to write to him.

Nobody had done that before.

Peter was undeniably sharp, judging by this letter. He had easily recognised that Harry may not have purchased an owl, because he hadn't any need for one. The man was right in thinking he would not be writing to Petunia. He would never do so again if he had his way.

An open line of communication with someone outside of Hogwarts could be useful, especially if the man kept to his word about not telling anyone else what their letters contained. He wasn't sure if he believed him or not, but he decided that if he did end up accepting the offer, then he wouldn't write down anything too personal right away. He would stick purely to academics and what Slytherin was like, for now.

He wasn't sure what Dumbledore had to do with anything, other than the fact that the man was quite close to his family, but he certainly didn't want the man's nose in his business. Nor his mother's, for that matter.

The little bit about Professor Magnusson was rather interesting. She had known his parents before the end of the war. Had worked with them, even. Hell, she might have even known him as a baby. It could explain those looks she had been giving him last night.

Idly, he wondered if he should approach her after class tomorrow and ask her. He would decide that later.

All in all, he was quite happy with the letter. It definitely upped his mood.

Which was swiftly brought back down when he remembered the second letter in his hands. Even now, he really did not want to read the letter his mother sent him, but something within him needed to see what she had to say. So with that in mind, he peeled off the wax seal and opened it, attempting to calm his nerves as he did.

Dear Harry,

I don't know how to start this letter to you. I've never written to anyone before, but Mother says you aren't supposed to say 'I'm writing to you because ...' when you start letters, so I won't do that.

I had to write to you, though. I just had to. I've already nearly filled up my bin with letters I've tried to write to you this summer, because I don't know what to say.

I should tell you who I am. My name is Alyssa Potter. I'm your sister, and you're my big brother.

I hope you know about me, because I've known about you for two years now, since our house-elf told me he wished he could look after you. I asked Mother about you, because I had never met you, and she told me she left you with muggles.

I was very angry with her when she told me.

She doesn't know I'm writing to you. She doesn't know much about what I do, actually. Ever since I learned to read and write she's stopped paying me much attention unless I ask for something, like food or drink or new clothes when I get too big for the ones I have already.

All she does is pay attention to Evan. I don't like him very much. He's loud and annoying. I'm happy he doesn't come to the library. It's my favourite place in the whole manor.

Everyone thinks I'm just like Mother because I like to read, but I don't think I am. I like reading, but there isn't anything else to do. Quidditch is so boring, despite what Evan says, and Mother won't teach me real magic even when I ask her. She taught Evan some stuff, and all she teaches me is Potions. It's not fair.

I want to learn magic with a wand, but Mother says I have to wait until I'm eleven to get one, even though Evan got a wand on his tenth birthday. My ninth birthday was in April, so I still have to wait ages. She won't even let me get a practice wand. Evan got one when he was seven.

My best friend is Ginny Weasley. She's ten and she's very nice. She used to have a crush on Evan, but she doesn't anymore. He's very rude to her sometimes. Her brothers are rude sometimes, too. Who are your friends? Are they nice?

What house are you in at Hogwarts? Mother was in Gryffindor, and Evan keeps saying he wants to be in Gryffindor. I don't think I want to be in Gryffindor if Evan is there. I want to be in the house you are in so that I can talk to you. If you are in Gryffindor with Evan, then I will go there so that I can talk to you.

What is Hogwarts like? Is it fun? I can't wait until I get to go, but I still have to wait two more years. Ginny gets to go next year. I'm going to be sad when she goes, because I'm going to be very lonely.

Please write back to me soon.

Alyssa Potter.

For a long minute, Harry stared dumbly at the letter, unable to comprehend exactly what he had just read. But eventually, it sunk in, and hard and his heart warmed significantly.

His bloody sister had written to him. His nine year old sister had managed to send him a letter without their mother knowing about it.

He almost wanted to laugh at the insanity of it all. That was incredibly Slytherin of her.

The act in itself was rather Slytherin, but the contents of her letter had certainly not been. She had told him a lot of sensitive information without thought, about herself and about her friend. Either she didn't realise or understand that this information could very easily be used against her, or she just didn't care.

Harry thought it was the former.

Not that he would use any of this against her. She was his sister, for merlin's sake. She obviously cared and wanted to learn about him, having said she had tried to write to him all summer, which was more than he could say for anyone else on the planet. She hadn't even given him the chance to refuse, not that he would've.

Nobody would ever see the contents of the letter she had sent him.

She even wanted to be in the same house he was, just so that she could talk to him.

It was rather endearing.

She would get torn apart in Slytherin, though, especially like this. She was far too trusting and willing to give information away to be a Slytherin. If she truly wished to be in the same house as him, he would have to help her with those tendencies, because they seemed very Hufflepuffish.

He would definitely be writing to her. She wasn't fond of either Evan or their mother, which could only be a point in her favour. It made him grin, that a member of his family wasn't a complete and utter twat, and wanted a relationship with him. She had absolutely nothing to do with Harry being left with the Dursleys either, seeing as she hadn't even been born yet.

Feeling lighter, Harry checked the time, noting that there was only six minutes until Transfiguration began, and walked inside the room.

Professor McGonagall wasn't there yet, so Harry sat at the very back and corner of the room, noting that each table seated two people. He wondered which house they would be sharing the class with, though that was swiftly answered when Hermione Granger walked into the room, throwing him a glance before moving to sit at the very front of the room.

They were sharing with the Gryffindors.

Absolutely fucking fantastic.

Before he could ponder on the fact that his avoidance of his brother might come to an abrupt end, a cat of all things walked into the room, slinking right over to the teachers desk before jumping onto it and facing the door.

That wasn't weird at all.

His group were next to enter, and Greengrass immediately took the seat next to him which was the third time in three classes it had happened, while Nott and Zabini took the row in front of them.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, showing an enormous amount of concern for someone he had only known for a day. The other boys had turned in their seats to listen in.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to take a walk around the castle for a bit. Ended up reading those letters I got this morning."

"Who were they from?" Nott asked quietly. Clearly, he had been interested, too.

"The one I thought was from my mother was actually from my sister, and the other one was from a family friend."

"Are you close with your sister?" Greengrass asked, even quieter. She looked very sombre about it, though he had no idea as to why.

"Not really, though we are closer than I am to my mother and brother," Harry replied curtly, unwilling to go any further on the topic. Greengrass only nodded, an odd, faraway look in her eye, her same sad expression still on her face. Gently, ignoring his issues with touching people, he nudged her shoulder with his when Zabini and Nott turned back towards the front.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Just thinking about my own sister, is all."

Harry couldn't help noticing that she hadn't answered his question.

"Are you not close with her?" Harry asked, taking the sadness to mean that she understood the pain of not being close to your siblings.

"We were," she whispered, sounding incredibly pained. "Not anymore."

"I'm sorry."

That was all he could say, really. There was obviously a lot that she wasn't telling him, but he wasn't going to pry. They hadn't known each other long, and he respected her privacy on her family matters.

She took his hand and squeezed it gently, giving him a shaky smile before letting go. He took it for what he understood it to be. Thanks for making sure she was alright, even if she wasn't. Thanks for not asking more than the basic questions, because she very clearly was not ready to talk about it, especially in such a public place.

They both turned their attention to the front as the bell went, and about thirty seconds later, Evan and Weasley strode in, not a care in the world on their faces. They very clearly had not rushed to get in on time.

"Told you we'd get away with being late. McGonagall isn't even here, yet," Evan said smugly, his trademark arrogant grin plastered onto his face, which was promptly wiped off when the cat jumped off of McGonagall's desk and transformed into the woman herself.

Harry couldn't help it. He gaped. Actually gaped and lost control of his jaw for the first time since entering the castle. In fact, he was pretty sure everyone in the room was doing the same. Greengrass certainly was next to him. As were Evan and Weasley.

What in the absolute hell had that been? How had she done it?

"That will be two points each from Gryffindor for deliberate lateness, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley. I suggest you take your seats quickly, as you have already wasted enough of our time."

Properly chastised, they sat down. Harry couldn't help smirking at his brother's misfortune. Get away with it, indeed.

Professor McGonagall surveyed them all before taking what seemed to be a mental register and gave them one of the sternest talking-to's he had ever heard.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone caught messing around in my class will leave and not return. You have been warned."

McGonagall then went on a massive lecture about the curriculum, something Harry was seriously starting to get bored off already. She spoke about the branches of Transfiguration that they would be learning about at Hogwarts, and touched on sub branches, which piqued Harry's interest and he resolved to look them up later, but essentially, they would be doing a lot of Transformation, turning an object into something else, and Counteraction, reversing the change which had already been inflicted on an object.

Apparently, Conjuration and Vanishment, the other two main branches, were studied after O.W.L's.

After that enormous lecture which took an entire lesson and then some, they were given their first task of transforming a match into a needle. It seemed simple enough. Harry would simply cast while doing everything he had done while learning wandless magic in his cupboard. It seemed to work for everything he had tried so far.

Visualising the match changing into a needle, and wanting it to happen, Harry pointed his wand at the match.

"Mutatium."

Greengrass gasped from beside him as his match instantly changed into a perfect needle. Professor McGonagall was at his table in an instant as the room went silent.

"Was that your first attempt, Mr Potter?" she asked, marvelling at the perfect needle she now held up.

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied easily, new found confidence seemingly rolling off of him.

She seemed to inspect it for another good minute or so before placing it in front of Harry again. "Take ten points to Slytherin, Mr Potter, for doing what no other student in my first class has managed to accomplish before you. I have never seen this done on a first attempt."

Practically preening at the praise, Harry thanked her before she asked him to reverse it, something he again, did easily, before telling him to keep practising before moving on around the room.

"How did you do that?" Greengrass whispered from beside him.

"Visualise the change happening in your mind, not the finished product like the book describes," he murmured. "See the match becoming pointy and silver, and the thread forming. Imagine the wood becoming metal, and desire the change. You have to want it to happen. Just waving about your wand and saying the incantation without actually feeling or seeing anything won't work the first time. It's all about visualisation and intention."

She decided to think it through for a minute, before shrugging and obviously deciding to implement it, because she wasn't having luck doing anything else. Steeling herself and closing her eyes, she breathed deeply before drawing her wand in a tight, circular motion and muttering the incantation.

"Impressive," Harry said, making her open her eyes and beam as she took in the change. It wasn't perfect, by any means, but her match had become silvery, instead of brown, and pointier than a match was. It was very clearly wooden, though, and there was no thread, but it was a decent attempt nonetheless.

The smile she graced him with certainly made it worth it, in any case.

"Thank you, Harry."

He waved her off, inwardly grinning at her casual use of his first name, the first time she had done so. "It's the least I can do, considering you're going to be helping me with Potions."

"That's what friends do for each other, isn't it?"

His heart thudded something fierce at hearing that word.

Friends.

Something he'd never thought he would experience.

She would be his first friend.

"Is that what we are?" he asked her quietly, meeting her blue eyes with his own. "Friends?"

"If you want us to be," her reply came as quiet as his initial question had been. It was up to him.

It wasn't an opportunity he was going to pass up.

"Friends," Harry replied, smiling back at her.

Perhaps he had been wrong in his musings earlier before the class. Maybe she had considered him a friend the whole time, after all. Or maybe that moment they had shared before the class had begun had cemented it for her. Either way, he hardly cared. This felt significant. Noteworthy, even.

Daphne Greengrass was his first ever friend.


Author's Endnotes :

This finally marks the end of chapter five. My weekend has been busy, affording me almost no time other than today to dedicate myself to this chapter. Because of that, I was not very far into it at all when I sat down to write this morning, so I promised myself I would get it done before going to work tomorrow, so here we are.

This chapter, despite being a good one story wise, was not an easy one for me to write. The only bits of this that were easy was the letters, funnily enough, which is what I thought I would struggle with the most before I actually sat down to write it.

I managed to get more into Harry's head this chapter, which was something I really enjoyed doing. As you can see, he isn't a mastermind in the art of speech or friendship, yet, and he most certainly isn't over his long-term abuse at the hands of the Dursleys. He still has a long way to go in that regard.

I also managed to introduce Alyssa for the first time and reintroduce Peter. Both characters are going to play their part in this story. I tried to make Alyssa sound like the nine year old she is, but I'm not sure how well I succeeded in that. Let me know either by inbox or review your thoughts.

Also, Daphne. I must admit she's become a favourite of mine after all the fanfics I have read, although my Daphne is not going to be the stoic ice queen most people portray her as. She has her demons, as demonstrated in this chapter when I gave a little hint about her relationship with Astoria, but she does not wear a blank, expressionless mask ninety percent of the time.

I will explore Nott and Zabini's characters more as I get further in, but I wanted to establish Harry's relationship with Daphne first. Friendship has finally blossomed for Harry.

Chapter 6 will be out at some point. I know already every scene that will happen in it, but a busy week means I'm unsure of when I will be able to finish it. Rest assured, though. I have no intention of giving up this story. I am enjoying this very much, and fully intend to keep going with it.

As always, leave a review letting me know what you thought of the chapter.

Until next time.