Author's Note:
So, once upon a time this fic had a lemon, but I chose to remove it from the version on this site just in case... I'm sure you'll be able to find where the edit is since I'm too lazy to re-write the scene with a proper fade to black at this time (don't judge me). If you want the lemon, you can find this fic with the lemon in full cross-posted to Ao3. without a. I'm also "CamTheThief" over there.
As always I hope you enjoy. :)
XXXXXXXXXX
"I love Hogwarts. I never really had friends before coming here. Thanks to this school and being sorted into Gryffindor, I have you, James, and Sirius – and you guys are everything to me. Don't tell James I said that though, he'd just laugh even though we all know he feels the same way. These have easily been the best years of my life. Once the war is over, I think I'm going to look into becoming a teacher. Being able to live and work at Hogwarts... it's a nice dream, don't you think?" -Peter Pettigrew to Remus Lupin on a warm and pleasant day at Hogwarts Castle. May, 1974.
Chapter 9:
"FIRS' YEARS! FIRS' YEARS, OVER HERE!"
Harry barely paid attention to the colossal man's booming, West Country accent as he continued to gather up the new students. The man in question was certainly large, but he did not quite reach the height of the infamous giants that Harry had heard about. Plus, the giants had a well earned reputation as primitive, savage creatures that formed tribes seemingly for the express purpose of almost killing each other day after day. They weren't exactly the type of creatures to be employed in leading first year students to Hogwarts.
The chill of the nighttime air was not unbearable, but it wasn't pleasant either. What was genuinely unpleasant though was the damn necktie that Daniel had insisted Harry put on. The rest of the uniform wasn't too bad, a bit too neat and clean for his usual taste, but he could probably get away with dressing down to a certain extent once classes began. The necktie though was absolutely unbearable when tightened. Fuck it, I'm loosening this goddamn thing.
"Really, Harry? Ten minutes and you're already having a conniption?" Daniel asked from his place next to his brother.
"FIRS' YEARS, OVER HERE!"
"Yes, really!" Harry whined, unbuttoning the topmost button and slackening the tie. "How can you all stand to have it constricting your neck like that?"
"One, it's not that bad. Two, you just accept it and move on," Neville said, adding in his completely useless and incorrect stance. "How have you never worn a tie before?"
"How have you never had jeans with holes in them?" Harry countered, now unbuttoning his sleeves underneath the robes. "We grew up in very different worlds, Nev."
Ron uncomfortably fidgeted with his tie but made no move to follow Harry's example. "It really is uncomfortable, but if I loosen this thing now then Percy will get on my case about it. He may even write to my mum, and she'll get on my case even more."
"My sympathies there, friend."
The four companions were all gathered together as they waited for the large and extremely hairy man to direct them where to go. Harry watched wistfully as the older years boarded themselves into self-pulling carriages. He was honestly quite excited for whatever journey the first years were about to be taken on, but he wasn't a fan of waiting around for no reason. There was no way everyone on the train couldn't hear the man's resounding shouts, so there was no reason to hang around this long.
Daniel sighed heavily and cocked his head towards a large group of students that were all whispering and casting subtle looks towards the Boy-Who-Lived and his apparent friends. "I'm blaming you for that, Harry."
Harry was indignant. "What? What did I do?"
"You had people line up to greet me!"
"And some of those people were seriously cute girls. So, you're welcome," Harry replied as if that made everything okay – which in his mind, it did. The short, blonde bird he had taunted seemed a bit acerbic, but she was still hot, which was to say nothing of her ridiculously cute friend. And those were just the first two in line! His little brother had nothing to complain about if you asked him. In fact, Harry was a bit jealous – in spite of his best efforts, he'd never had girls line up to meet him.
Daniel was momentarily distracted, happily staring at nothing as he recalled what were undoubtedly pleasant memories, but he was pulled from his daydreams by Neville thumping him on the back of the head.
"GATHER ROUND, FIRS' YEARS!"
"What was that for?" Daniel exclaimed, rubbing the area of impact and grimacing.
"Just me keeping your ego in check," Neville teased, grinning at his adopted brother.
"Arsehole."
"Git."
Harry tuned out the exchange further as he observed the other first years ambling about. One boy in particular stood out to him. At first glance the boy was utterly unremarkable: average height, quite skinny, mid-length, curly, brown hair. The boy would have likely been considered fairly attractive had it not been for his hard, sunken, and bloodshot eyes with heavy dark circles underneath them. Pale and gaunt, the teen looked like he'd just woken up after having a really, really bad night. Harry recognized the signs that this kid was exhibiting clear as day; they weren't unfamiliar symptoms among some of his old acquaintances.
"You know that guy?" Ron asked, having sidled up next to his friend and following his gaze.
"No," Harry murmured quietly. "But I can tell that he had a rough train ride."
"Blimey, he does look like hell – hey, it's that guy that almost fought your brother."
"FIRS' YEARS!"
Draco Malfoy, as Daniel had named him, had just approached the disheveled teen and passed him a flask. They were speaking far too quietly for Harry to make out what they were saying but given their body language he assumed they were close friends. Malfoy looked like he was censuring the other teen, but it appeared to be the type of censure that came from a place of affection more than anything. Akin to a parent scolding a child when their recklessness almost got them hurt.
"They're probably friends," Harry murmured, his attention still rapt on the duo.
"Better keep an eye on them – the Malfoy family has a really bad reputation. Most people are sure they supported You-Know-Who during the war," Ron warned, his voice hushed.
Harry hummed for a second before shrugging. "Yeah, Daniel mentioned that the guy's dad got off on a technicality, but I'll meet him for myself first. Draco, that is. Even if his family is full of murdering cunts, I don't really put much stock in the opinions of others when it comes to things like this."
"I guess that's fair?" Ron said, a questioning lilt in his voice.
"If it turns out he's a dick, I'll treat him like he deserves. He hasn't done anything to me so far though, so," Harry paused briefly as he turned his focus away from the aristocratic boy. "Can't say I have an opinion on the guy."
"Even though Daniel said he was a foul git?"
"I'm not my brother, mate."
That seemed to get through to the redhead as he looked slightly guilty. "I'm so used to seeing twins be almost the exact same person. Fred and George, two of my brothers, they're twins, and they're so alike that I assumed all twins were like that too. My bad, there," he apologized.
"No harm, no foul," Harry replied, waving off what he thought of as a needless, though appreciated, apology. "If he and I had grown up with each other we'd probably be a lot more alike."
"ALRIGHT, LISTEN UP," the gigantic man exclaimed, somehow far louder than his previous calls, a fact that Harry hadn't thought possible. "C'MON, AND FOLLOW ME. BE SURE TO MIND YER STEP, AND DON' WANDER OFF! FIRS' YEARS, THIS WAY!"
The large crowd of students had no issue hearing the man and grouped up to follow him. Harry and Ron remained close to one another but didn't even try to keep an eye out for anyone else in particular amid the chaotic throng of students. Their humongous guide took them down a steep, narrow, and poorly lit path. Most of the assembled teens slipped or stumbled at least once as they walked. Harry swore he heard Hermione's voice among the many that were grumbling aloud about the conditions of their path. The dark, closely packed trees packed on either side of the trail prevented them from seeing anything beyond it. Only the third quarter moon and the vivid constellations were visible in the night sky above.
The slim pathway rapidly widened and opened onto the edge of great black lake. The glimmering stars refracted off the water's surface, light show entirely of nature's creation. On the other side of the lake, a high mountain rose towards the heavens. There, perched atop the peaks, its windows flickering in the dark, was a magnificent, vast castle.
Harry's breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the gargantuan structure, its many turrets and towers almost innumerable in the night sky. He made no claims to being an expert on medieval structures, but the sheer size of Hogwarts dwarfed every other castle he'd ever heard of. The famed Windsor Castle absolutely paled in comparison to the majesty of the magical school – for what else could it be but magical.
"NO MORE'N FOUR TO A BOAT!" Their escort called, snapping everyone out of the trance that had taken hold of them. Harry quickly realized that being riveted on the glorious castle in the distance was not an experience unique to him. Momentarily confused at the directions that had been called out, Harry saw that floating on the surface of the water, right near the edge, were dozens upon dozens of small boats.
"Blimey – I can't believe we're going to be living in that," Ron said, his voice barely a whisper.
The two friends stepped into one of the empty boats and claimed their seats. Harry barely paid any mind to the two students that climbed in after them, completely enthralled by the castle in the distance. Without even being entirely cognizant of what he was doing, Harry lit up a single cigarette and lounged against the edge of the wooden craft.
'Explore, Harry Evans. Explore.' Tom's words reverberated through his mind without bidding.
Don't worry, you creepy bastard, I intend to. Something about Hogwarts called to Harry. It had nothing to do with him being a sensor, of that he was certain. At that moment he just wanted to be inside the ancient castle, to stand inside the walls and run his hand across the aged stonework. It shouldn't have been possible to feel nostalgia for this place he had never known before, but Harry had no other way to describe the longing he felt.
"EVERYONE IN?" The large man's voice sounded on the edge of Harry's reverie, just barely cutting through his focus. The imposing man had a boat entirely to himself and he was standing on his feet in an impressive display of control and balance. "RIGHT THEN – FORWARD!"
The fleet of boats then moved forward all at once, following the large man's direction as he held his lantern aloft. The lake's surface was as smooth as glass they glided across it. Silence blanketed the students as they sailed nearer and nearer to the grand castle that loomed above them. Their voices stolen by the spectacle alone.
"WATCH YOURSELVES!" Their guide shouted as the first of the boats approached a curtain of ivy that fell over a wide opening in the cliff face.
Harry idly brushed a few of the hanging vines out of the way of his head. What he had assumed would just be a dark tunnel proved to be so much more. The light of the lantern illuminated murals that seemed to move with the flickering glow of the flames. One showing four friends as they held their wands high, magic blossoming forth. Another depicted Hogwarts itself with a coiled snake slumbering below, hidden away beneath the castle. Rowena Ravenclaw as she studied the stars atop the tallest tower. Helga Hufflepuff in front a small hearth, stirring ingredients into a cauldron as she drained a tankard of ale. Godric Gryffindor, wand in one hand, a ruby encrusted sword in the other, as he faced down ten men. Salazar Slytherin as he drew alchemic circles in the confines of his study lit only by a single candle. If one looked closely, they would see that these paintings did not move, but in the low, lambent light, they still told a story. A story about Hogwarts and her history.
Eventually, the party of first years arrived at some manner of underground harbor, with a rocky shoreline that met with stone construction. The wrought path then connected to a long flight of stone stairs that led directly to the castle's heavy, wooden gates.
"Alright now, everybody out of the boats!" The hulking man's voice reverberated inside the stone cavern, evidently there was no need for him to yell in here.
Harry joined the mass of students as they clambered out of the boats and onto the uneven shore. For some reason, Harry had difficulty keeping his mind on the present. All of the others milled around him, but he felt as if he weren't actually among their number. Ron's words beckoned him to walk; he could hear them, understand them, but they felt distant all the same.
Focus, he told himself, but it was for naught. Focus was not the heart of his issue – if it could even be called that, as the effects were not truly adverse in any way. Awareness and attention for the world had not left him, instead it was as if the magic of the castle was always in his periphery, begging to be noticed further but constantly moving out of the limelight. Whatever it was that had taken hold in his mind, it refused to dissipate. The new sensation was one that he was slowly becoming acclimated to as he journeyed up the numerous stone stairs. Like everyone else, he remained mute in the face of their introduction to the venerated castle.
"Everyone still here?" The large man called. Not the most useful question in the world by Harry's estimation. If anyone was missing, they wouldn't exactly be able to announce it themselves. Their guide raised a gigantic fist – large enough to easily crush a man's head – and knocked three times on the castle's iron inlaid gates.
The heavy doors slowly creaked open, a warm glow from within escaping through the widening space. There, standing on the other side was a witch that Harry was already familiar with, though her wardrobe had changed significantly. The ever-attractive Minerva McGonagall still had her dark hair pulled up in a tight bun, the same small glasses resting on her narrow nose; now dressed in elegant, emerald-green robes tinged with a healthy amount of black. Even more eye-catching was the splendiferous and stereotypical witches' hat that she wore upon her head, slightly cocked to one side. Had Harry not already met the stern woman, he might have guessed that she was simply making a joke, bringing some levity to the otherwise subdued, yet captivating experience. But no, this was real, and Harry loved it so, so much.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall. All safe and accounted for."
"Thank you, Hagrid," McGonagall said, her eyes briefly flicking up towards her coworker's own before returning to the students. "I will take them from here."
Hagrid lumbered off, muttering to himself. What about Harry neither knew nor cared, because McGonagall had just directed them to take their first steps inside Hogwarts.
The entrance hall alone blew his expectations out of the water. It. Was. Huge. The ceiling stretched further than his sight allowed, never mind that he'd seen the tops of the towers from the outside. The grand marble staircase was pristine and polished, leading to a landing from which dozens of hallways and staircases broke away. Flaming sconces lined the walls, leaving only the corners shrouded in shadow.
Even just while standing in the entrance hall and looking into the corridors that branched away from it, Harry could see moving suits of armor. Their hollow bodies moved without assistance, their heads following the crowd – some watched impassively, some saluted respectfully, while others brandished their weapons aggressively; weapons that clearly bore runic carvings. Paintings too numerous to count lined much of the walls; with the denizens of said paintings happily moving between frames. There were woven tapestries aplenty; each one beautifully crafted, all of various design and style. Some lay flat against the wall while others billowed from a non-existent wind, only to reveal a hidden passageway behind it. There were statues with eyes that followed those walking past, potted plants that seemed truly alive. And dotted around there were strange artifacts, some in glass display cases, others simply hung on the wall: weapons, talismans, relics from a bygone age – each with small placards providing brief tidbits of information.
Beyond the decorations and memorabilia that the castle clearly had a surplus of – Hogwarts was permeated with an inexplicable sense of weight. The flagged stone floors cracked with age but still polished and smooth. The ancient, stone-brick walls, occasionally marred by a chip or scorch mark, but walls that had stood firm for over a millennium. The wooden benches carved with initials and names – each one telling the story of students that had come before. There was an undeniable significance born from walking within Hogwarts – one that Harry would never quite be able to define.
Off to the right, Harry heard the voices of hundreds of what he presumed were students, but McGonagall showed them into a small chamber instead. Not that the chamber was empty, for inside were a number of spectral, semi-transparent figures. Their ghastly appearance made a couple of students scream and jump back in fright. Ron swore quietly as a ghost covered in bloods and chains floated up from the floor directly next to him while Harry just looked around in excitement.
"I'd heard rumors of ghosts," a girl whispered from beside Harry, "but I didn't expect them to look so -"
"Real?" Harry finished for her, his excited grin still in placed as he turned to face his new source of conversation. The brown skinned girl was stunningly beautiful, with long dark hair and eyes. Harry wasn't sure if magic was to thank or not, but the seemingly large number of attractive witches and wizards in the world was nothing but a boon if you asked him.
The girl returned his smile. "Something like that, yeah. I mean, they're just souls that haven't passed on, right? So why would anyone expect them to look like their human selves?"
Harry had read a bit about ghosts in one of his books, but neither he nor the author were still entirely certain of why they were still present on the mortal plane. "I've heard there's still some debate on why their souls stick around?" He said, extending his hand towards the girl. "Harry Evans, by the way – ignoramus on ghosts."
"Padma Patil, also an ignoramus on ghosts," Padma replied, laughing and gesturing to the girl that was repeatedly jumping in the air to try and get a better view of the spectral figures, "and this is my sister, Parvati."
At the mention of her name, Parvati turned and looked over towards Harry and her twin sister – though not an identical twin. Despite clearly being sisters, the two gorgeous girls were easily distinguishable from one another, a fact only helped along by the large, golden hoop earrings Parvati had, as opposed to the small, presumably diamond studs worn by her sister. Parvati brazenly checked Harry out, for a few seconds before smiling mischievously at her sister. "Well, hello there. You got my name already, but I missed yours," she said, winking at him and gently biting her bottom lip as she smiled.
Padma took one look at her sister's rather ostentatious flirting and groaned. "Really? Already? We literally just stepped inside."
Harry, who had returned the flirtations from Parvati with a sly smile of his own, watched the two sisters without even trying to hide his amusement. Padma didn't seem angry per se, but exasperation certainly fit the bill.
"Just living up to my namesake," Parvati responded easily, still making eyes at Harry – a gesture he was more than happy to return.
"Being named after a fertility goddess does not mean you have to throw yourself at every boy you meet!"
"Goddess of beauty too, don't forget that," Parvati cheekily added. "And you should try having some fun with a boy now and again. That stick you have shoved up your arse shouldn't be the only intimate relationship you have." Harry thought Parvati's snipe towards her sister was a drastic escalation of the argument, but Padma did not seem that affronted at all, honestly, she looked as if she had been expecting such a caustic response. Sisterly love was truly a wondrous thing to behold.
"Intimate? Relationship?" Padma scoffed. "Please, like whoring yourself out to every guy that stares at your ass qualifies as an intimate relationship. You're a cock-sleeve, hon', don't delude yourself into thinking you mean anything more to them."
Damn, that was fucking brutal.
"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron whispered from behind him as he motioned towards the bickering twins. "Did you start that?"
"I wish, mate," Harry murmured back, intent on not missing a single word of the biting exchange.
"Oh, don't even try and pretend like I wasn't the best thing that ever happened to those boys," Parvati bit back, one hand dramatically placed upon her hip. "They were practically begging for my attention the entire time! Besides, we both know I'm not that loose."
"Could have fooled me!" Padma retorted, crossing her arms.
The two sisters' rapidly intensifying argument was interrupted by Professor McGonagall somehow gaining everyone's attention without making a single sound – Harry was actually impressed by her little trick. Controlling crowds of students at that level could only be gained through decades of experience. The two sisters ceased their hostilities and turned towards the professor. Parvati took a moment to wink at him coquettishly but refrained from any further flirting as she focused on the ensuing introduction. Ron, who had apparently noticed the playful gesture, nudged Harry and gave him a subtle thumbs up.
"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Professor McGonagall began loudly, "the start of term banquet will begin shortly. Before you take your seats in the Great Hall however, there is the matter of sorting you into your Houses. There are four Houses, one for each of the school's founders and the traits they valued. While you are in Hogwarts, your Houses will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in the same dormitories, share a common room, and the list goes on."
Harry had already pieced together a decent amount of the House system just based on the offhanded comments that others had made, but many of the finer details eluded him. The founders had apparently just wanted to group students in some way and so they devised the House system; he wasn't quite sure why, but he had no complaints. Regardless, no one ever said that you couldn't associate with students from other Houses.
"The four Houses are named after the four founders of our great school: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own proud and noble history, and each has produced exceptional witches and wizards throughout the years."
Harry respected the healthy egos the four founders had possessed. They were apparently unrivaled in ability, so it only made sense, but they had successfully enshrined their names with the traits they valued. The number of times he had heard references to the Houses from those that had graduated decades prior clearly proved as much.
"Every year the four Houses compete to earn the House cup, a great honor that also comes with a number of benefits for the students of said House. Your triumphs will earn you points for your House, while rule-breaking will lose you points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points wins the cup."
Though it might have just been his cynical side talking, Harry couldn't imagine that many students actually gave a flying fuck about the honor that came from winning the House cup. Teenagers were by and large rebellious and impetuous bastards – Harry would know, he was one after all. Nobody would actually give a damn about following every little rule in life if all it amounted to was a pat on the back. Hell, even if the rewards were only semi-decent, he still doubted that most of the school's populace would give a damn. House pride was a thing, he'd already confirmed as much, but it was entirely possible for the students of a House to not desire to lose while also not really showing much care towards winning. Further judgment would be reserved until after the rewards system had been explained to him. If the Hogwarts staff had any understanding of teenagers then the rewards might just be worth it after all.
"I hope each of you will prove to be a credit to whichever House shall become yours. The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin, so please follow after me in an orderly fashion," Professor McGonagall finished.
Harry ended up in between Ron and Parvati in the line, a fact that Harry became very appreciative of when the flirty girl ever so slyly kept rubbing against him with her extremely shapely arse. He had never met a girl that was as forward as Parvati Patil, but by the gods did he already love her for it.
The Great Hall lived up to its name splendidly, more so than Harry had expected. Thousands of lit candles floated in the air above four grandiose tables that already seated the rest of the student body. The ceiling was just like the night sky, an endless expanse of velvety black dotted with stars. If he didn't know better, he would swear that there was no ceiling at all. The older students each had golden plates and goblets placed in front of them, filled with various drinks and an assorted mix of breads and dipping oils. Harry had heard mention of there being a feast, it only made sense that the older students would be offered some sort of starter course during the Sorting Ceremony. The woes of being a first year, he supposed. Guess we're not allowed to eat until we've been sorted, he thought to himself, wryly hoping that the order for sorting would be alphabetical.
At the top of the hall there two more long tables, tiered on different levels, that seated all of the teachers – and quite the eclectic group they proved to be. Albus Dumbledore was easily distinguishable from the others with his place in the center. His large, gilded, throne-like chair placed him a bit higher than all the rest. The man had long, gray hair that reached past his shoulders; what was also long but surprisingly well kept was his gray beard that reached shortly beyond the collar of his ostentatious crimson robes. The man's piercing blue eyes twinkled even behind the half-moon spectacles resting on his nose, one that appeared to have been broken many times in the past. Why the man hadn't just used magic to fix his nose was a mystery, but at the very least it did add more character to the legendary headmaster. There was an extremely beautiful dark-skinned witch that barely looked older than the students, a diminutive, little wizard with an impressive mustache, a tall, pale wizard wearing a purple turban, the ever-imposing Hagrid, a hook-nosed wizard that stared sullenly at everyone around him, a witch with heterochromatic eyes and a shock of white hair despite her features suggesting she was not nearly so old, and those were just the first few he'd noticed. There were almost two dozen teachers all in total, which fit Harry's expectations reasonably well.
McGonagall led the first-year students to an area off to the side that was directly in between the rest of the students and the teachers. While the first years shuffled into place, the Deputy Headmistress wasted no time in placing an old, somewhat frayed hat on top of a small four-legged stool, situated in front of the entire school.
Now, what are you? Harry thought wildly, his focus now fixated on the strange wizard's hat that was, by all appearances anyway, integral to the Sorting Ceremony. Obviously, you're a powerful magical artifact, but what else? Harry reached his own conclusion at the exact moment that it should have become obvious to all the other first years that lacked his fairly unique ability. Sentience!
In the brief time since he had learned of magic, Harry had already encountered many examples of magical artifacts that were seemingly sentient. Paintings, portraits, wands, the occasional book, the list went on – but none of those had truly possessed a soul of their own. It was an accepted fact in the magical world that souls existed and had great meaning. What exactly a soul was remained a hotly contested and ongoing debate, but its existence was never called into question.
Souls were an enigma. They were present in all beings, though the nature of souls differed greatly by species. Clearly able to be created, as evidenced by the creation of new life and by extension the new soul that lay within; and yet, souls weren't strictly tied to life, as evidenced by ghosts, poltergeists, and a number of other creatures simply defined as 'non-beings'. A nebulous topic to be sure, but one that had an entire branch of magic built around it. Souls were difficult, that statement was common even among experts, and Harry was by no means an expert on the subject. His own knowledge barely extended beyond that which he'd gained from Amon Staghart. Knowledge that wasn't even the most useful as the personal opinions and beliefs held by the author of Good and Evil; Light and Dark: What Does Magic say about Morality was not the type of information Harry was going to immediately accept as fact. That wasn't to say that said information did not still have value to Harry though, after all, it had piqued his interest in a topic that had hitherto been unknown to him.
Harry had spent time sensing the magic within portraits. The complicated magic befuddled him in more ways than he could count, but the feeling of that magic was something he became fairly familiar with. The well-learned seller of paintings in Diagon Alley had referred to portraits as but a shell of whomever it was they depicted. An impression of the soul captured with magic and preserved with paints and dyes. In many ways they seemed alive, like they really were the immortalized form of a person that had passed from the world, but they weren't. Magical items that possessed a semblance of personality were even more common than genuine imprints of souls. A purely fictional painting here, a wand there; from a temperamental tea-kettle to an aggressive chess board. Such items were naught but faux facsimiles of a sense of self and identity, ultimately nothing more than a reflection of their creator's intent.
Even with all of the information Harry had though, he would bet every galleon he owned on the fact that the Sorting Hat, the self-proclaimed 'Thinking Cap', had a soul.
"Remind me to punch my brother, Fred, later on," Ron whispered fiercely to Harry. "He had me believing that the sorting involved casting a spell of your choice, and that the teachers would evaluate what you cast and how well you casted it! Do you know how long I've been practicing the color change charm to turn something red?"
Harry barely managed to shake his head in the negative while trying to suppress his mirth.
"Weeks! I practiced for weeks! It's a bloody difficult spell!"
"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry smiled back at his friend, "but that's just funny."
The two friends began to subtly elbow one another as Professor McGonagall called up names to have the Sorting Hat placed upon their head. In alphabetical order of course. Apparently in both the muggle world and the magical one, children with surnames that began with the latter letters of the alphabet just had shit luck. Harry was rather pleased at that moment that his adopted last name began with an 'E'.
Though, after thinking about it for a second, Harry wondered which name McGonagall would call out? Evans or Potter? Evans was the only name he'd ever known, but he was still legally considered a member of House Potter – he knew that for a fact, he'd checked. His parents had been married and hell, he was still the heir to the head seat of House Potter. Surely those two elements meant his actual name was Potter and that Evans was more of a nickname instead of anything official? Then again, his Hogwarts Letter had been addressed to Evans…
Harry's thought processes then led him to another question: how the fuck had his letter even known which bedroom he slept in? The only conclusions he could arrive at were that magicals spied on prospective Hogwarts students for the inanest reasons imaginable, or the creation of the letter was automatic. If it was automatic, then that spoke of a magic that was tied to names – which would seem to suggest that his magical name was Evans? But why would it be Evans when not only had his magical parents named him Potter, but he was still a member of House Potter? Did the method used to create Hogwarts letters take into account preferred names, or in his case, the only name he knew? That didn't seem like that much of a stretch given that the magic was aware of very bedroom he slept in. Of course, Harry also had to consider the fact that in his case, the letter had been hand delivered by a woman who knew who he was beforehand. It would have been easy for McGonagall to alter what was written for his sake; especially given the order of events that she introduced him to magic and by extension his past.
Honestly, Harry wouldn't even care which name was called if it wasn't for the existence of magical contracts. They were an accepted and fairly common element within magical society, so he needed to learn which name he would have to use in order to properly sign one – preferably yesterday. Not knowing was practically inviting problems his way. I wonder if the terms of a contract could be dodged by signing the wrong name, Harry pondered. I'll look it up later. The Hogwarts library is supposed to be huge, so thank christ for small mercies at least.
The Sorting Ceremony was progressing more quickly than Harry would have initially guessed. On average each student only took about thirty to forty seconds to be sorted, with the Hat being on their head for less than ten of those seconds – the rest was just McGonagall calling out names, or the first years walking to their seats while the older students politely cheered their acquisition of a new House mate. An approximate eighty-minute-long Sorting Ceremony was still quite long, but it could have easily been worse.
The magic that slightly altered the student's uniform from all black to reflect their House's colors was interesting, but Harry was not yet learned enough to even begin guessing the theory behind such magic – and he wasn't even about to try sensing an effect that was that small, not when he himself was about to be sorted in the coming minutes.
"Ugh, this wait is torture," Ron complained quietly, casting wistful looks towards the warm breads and refreshing drinks that kept materializing on the tables. The tables they weren't allowed to sit at yet.
"I'm sure it won't take too long to reach the Ws," Harry said sarcastically.
"You know, Harry," Ron dryly replied, "you kind of suck sometimes. I'm going to be standing here till the end of the bloody ceremony. I mean, we're literally still on the Bs!"
Harry wasn't going to argue that one. Ron's predicament amused him and he would not hide that fact. "Man, you're going to get really bored, huh?"
"Tosspot," was Ron's succinct reply.
"Bones, Susan!"
A somewhat shy redheaded girl answered McGonagall's summons. Her head was held high, but one only had to glance at her hands to find them clutching the ends of her skirt in a death grip.
"Bloody hell, you see how fit she is now," Ron murmured, an appreciative glint in his eye as he followed the cute redhead's movements towards the Sorting Hat.
Now? "You know her?" Harry asked.
"Not really, met her at this Ministry function about two years back. Or was it three years? Anyway, her aunt is my dad's boss' boss."
"So, you guys snogged or what?" Harry had never been to any kind of posh, high society party – which is what he assumed this function was given that it was held by the Ministry of Magic – but his experience with other types of parties was not nearly so limited. Based on the fun that he had been able to have at parties, Harry hoped his friend had been able to share in similar experiences.
"Boot, Terry!"
"No," Ron sighed dejectedly. "I was way too insecure for that. Susan and I barely spoke five words before we both practically ran away and hid. She hadn't quite lost all of her baby fat back then, but damn, she was still cute – even more cute now."
"Get yourself sorted into Hufflepuff then and correct the mistakes of your past. Go forth and impress the cute girl, Ron!" Harry's eyes sparkled with amusement as he teased his friend.
Harry wasn't sure what House he would be sorted into, but he was as sure as possible that it wasn't going to be Hufflepuff. Not that he had anything against loyalty, but the idea of being just and true, patient and unafraid of toil… it just wasn't him. Sure, he could work hard, but the path of least resistance was almost always the superior one. Ravenclaw was also likely not the House for him. Harry quite enjoyed learning and being witty, but neither of those two traits embodied him or his ideals. Slytherin or Gryffindor were the only two Houses he could imagine himself getting sorted into. But, at the end of the day, he wasn't exactly the one that made the decision. Nope, that was left to a bloody hat.
"Bradley, Erin!" McGonagall announced loudly, continuing to shout out names as she worked her way down the list.
Ron snorted loudly, a bit too loudly if the way a few students glared at him were any indicator. "Me? A Puff? Fat chance."
"Even for a girl that cute?" Harry pressed.
"Nobody wants to be a Hufflepuff, Harry. Not even Hufflepuffs want to be Hufflepuffs."
Harry didn't know much about the history of the House, so he couldn't comment too much, but even he had to admit that Hufflepuff was a spectacularly moronic name. McGonagall had lectured him once about judging magical nomenclature, but since Ron was also mocking the House, he felt a bit more justified in his derision.
"Hey! My father was in Hufflepuff!" A boy exclaimed quietly. He had maneuvered his way right next to Harry and Ron after hearing their comments on Hufflepuff, much to their amusement.
"Poor bloke," Ron replied, wholly unapologetic in his degradation of the famed House.
"Will you all be quiet!" Hermione Granger had also chosen to make an appearance in their impromptu discussion.
Wonder if she realizes she's the loudest of us all? Harry mused, thoroughly entertained by the growing number of interjections.
As Ron turned to quietly, but fiercely, engage with Hermione in what Harry imagined was an argument, his own attention was stolen by Padma Patil nudging him in the side.
"Sorry about earlier, with my sister and all," she whispered, leaning her mouth closer to his ear. Harry had to lower his head a bit to accommodate the girl, but height difference between them was relatively small, so it wasn't exactly difficult for him to do so.
Harry raised a single eyebrow towards the girl. "Are you apologizing for you two arguing, or for her flirting?"
"A bit of both?" Padma said sheepishly, though she didn't sound entirely certain herself. She played with a ring on her finger for a few moments before continuing, her words far firmer than before. "No, I'm only sorry for the arguing, actually. Parvati is welcome to fool around with anyone she wishes."
Harry chuckled to himself as he began to roll a galleon between his fingers, the wait was starting to get to him, and Padma had inadvertently reminded him of his favorite little token. "Not fond of your sister's proclivity for the sexual then?"
"It's not that," Padma said, crossing her arms defensively, "I mean, I'm not exactly a pure maiden myself, but it's literally the first thought on her mind whenever she sees a cute guy."
"Did you just call me cute?"
"Shut up, I'm making a point," Padma brushed off his question without hesitation, a small smirk the only sign his teasing comment landed at all. "She didn't even know your name, but she was already planning to shag you."
"I'll be honest, I personally see no issue with that," Harry would defend promiscuous women to his dying breath. Sluts make the world a happier place, that's just a fact.
"You're the beneficiary in this scenario, so of course you wouldn't," Padma laughed softly. He didn't think she was offended by his logic, but he'd been wrong before...
"Campbell, Madeline" McGonagall called out. Harry caught sight of a cute girl with black hair that had ranked among Daniel's fans from the train making her way towards the Hat.
"So, you're upset that your sister enjoys a good shag?" Harry asked, trying to keep his tone light and free of judgment.
"No, everyone enjoys a good shag," Padma countered, "I'm upset that my sister can't think of anything else even when we're walking into Hogwarts!" She took a moment to calm herself, taking deep, measured breaths before continuing. "Parvati isn't the brainless bimbo her first impression might suggest – I'm smarter, of course, but she's up there too. And it's not like I actually mind that she's fond of sex, I just wish she would tone down how obvious she is about it."
"Far be it from me to try and play therapist," Harry murmured quietly, his eyes still glued forwards so as to give the impression that he was paying attention to the sorting, "but it sounds to me like you just disagree with how forward your sister is."
"That much was always obvious, dear," Padma said, her somewhat condescending smirk demonstrating quite clearly what she thought of his capabilities as an armchair psychologist. "It bothers me, but that doesn't mean I'm wasting my time trying to change her."
"Then what was with your argument earlier?" Harry didn't buy her dismissive attitude, not in its entirety anyway. Sure, neither Padma nor Parvati had seemed to put off by the insults they hurled at one another, but they were still vehemently disagreeing.
"It's Hogwarts," Padma whispered, her voice passionate. "We've grown up hearing all about this castle, but she acted like she barely cared. I know she does care, but still!"
"If you grew up with stories of Hogwarts, that must mean you're from around Britain then?" Harry asked, slightly eager to change the subject away from the issues between the two sisters. He didn't understand, but honestly it wasn't his place to pry farther when he'd only just met them. He'd stuck his foot in his mouth once already – an experience that Padma had been kind enough to gloss over – a repeat performance wasn't something he was keen on. Subject changes did not have to be smooth or pretty, they just had to fucking work.
"Be honest, where did you think I was from?"
"India?" Harry said uncertainly; he was nowhere close to being an expert on surnames, but guessing wasn't beyond the realm of his capabilities.
"Nice guess," Padma's eyebrows rose in slight surprise. "My father is from India, but my mother is British, so we," she gestured to herself and Parvati, who was standing a bit away, "were raised in London. Seriously though, nice guess. I expected you to be way off."
"And how can you be sure I was guessing?" Harry was basking in his successful shot in the dark and decided to push his luck in his attempts to impress the cute girl.
"Oh, please," Padma scoffed, "you didn't even try to hide it."
"Hide what? That was a calculated assumption!" He lied, grinning broadly even as she rolled her eyes.
"Cooke, Damian!"
Padma folded her arms as she readjusted her posture, showing that she was settling in for a long wait. "You have way too much fun lying even when the truth is obvious," she said, chuckling at Harry's sudden and quite false outrage.
"Miss Patil, are you casting aspersions on my character?" Harry challenged, the effects of his theatrics heavily dulled thanks to his muted tone.
"Absolutely."
Harry placed one of his hands over his heart. "You wound me," he whined.
Padma smirked but her attention was stolen away by someone else before she could respond. The majority of the first years were standing quietly while they waited for their turn to be sorted, with the occasional duo speaking quietly. Anyone that got too loud was quickly silenced by McGonagall's piercing gaze, that included the older students and even some of the teachers. That woman is terrifying, Harry thought to himself.
Harry debated trying to find some other way to entertain himself until his name was called, but in lieu of having anyone to speak with he resigned himself to what he hoped would be a small wait. Evans. Please just call out Evans. I want to sit and eat food. Please call out Evans.
Luckily for him, Harry did not have to wait long. Less than ten minutes had passed before his name was echoing throughout the hall, "Evans, Harry!"
Without hesitation Harry began to saunter his way forward. There were an uncommonly large number of eyes following him as he walked, far more so than any other student thus far. The whispers were not difficult to hear.
"Is that him?"
"The one who said he was the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived, yeah."
"They do look alike..."
"Kind of, I guess."
Harry smirked internally. There was never going to be any hope of him keeping a low profile as the forgotten Potter son, so he decided to openly embrace his title instead. His little show on the train was just the first display. Harry was more than comfortable enough with the grandstanding even though it wasn't normally his style. In his opinion the best way to deal with his newfound fame and mystique was to get the whispers and questions out of the way early on instead of allowing them to sit and fester into rumor. The world would likely get used to his existence soon enough, but so long as he wasn't treated as an accessory to his brother, he honestly didn't care if they talked about him.
Professor McGonagall had already taken a small step back, allowing him to take a seat on the surprisingly sturdy wooden stool without issue. As soon as Harry was properly positioned, his vision was obscured by the inside of the of patched hat.
"Well, well, well – your mind is fun."
A voice, deep and laced with confidence, resounded through Harry's mind the instant it settled onto his head. It was just another being that could peruse his mind freely. Harry couldn't exactly be upset about it this time, the Sorting Hat was probably as old as Hogwarts itself.
"Nothing special, of course, but quite the amusing headspace nonetheless."
The hat's words were not correctly aligned with Harry's perception of time. More time should have passed around him than what had, almost as if what he was hearing in his mind was progressing at a slower pace than reality.
"Oh? What's this? Something even I can't see? No, just an individual deliberately shrouding themselves. Now where did they learn to do that? Would that I could sit upon your head for a few minutes and break through their magic, it's so very intriguing..."
Harry knew then and there that it was Tom the Sorting Hat was referring to. Somehow that crazy bastard had obscured himself from the hat that boasted being able to see through anything hidden. Almost two months later and Tom continued to impress.
"Ah, but they didn't go far enough, did they? Through them you've learned of so many interesting topics that you shouldn't have any knowledge of. Dangerous topics. Topics that most of the world has forgotten about... Who did you speak with, I wonder?"
You'll never know, Harry thought to himself, though he imagined the hat could hear him. The hat did not seem as if it was actually interested in having a conversation, just talking at whomever it was placed upon.
"A mystery for another day, but you've assuredly given me a project for the next seven years. Ah, I digress, your sorting is all but determined, I only need a second or two more."
Harry would have never thought that time would be such a useless frame of reference.
"You would do well in either House. Your personality, your traits, your values above all else, they would allow you to find a home regardless of where you find yourself."
Slytherin or Gryffindor, it mattered not to Harry which House he was placed into. As long as it doesn't flip things on me and shout Ravenclaw to the world... The idea of being a Hufflepuff didn't even cross his mind. There were some things in life that were simply beyond the realm of possibility.
"Better be... GRYFFINDOR!"
The table full of Gryffindors erupted into applause as McGonagall removed the Hat from Harry's head. It may have just been his ego talking, but he thought the applause for him was just a bit larger than what the other students received.
Harry walked to the open section near the front of the table that had been left open and available for the new first year students.
"Oh my god, Harry! We're in the same House!" Lavender Brown said happily as she patted the open seat next to her.
On the other side of the table, Fay Dunbar, if Harry recalled correctly, smiled at him prettily but deigned not to speak.
"Are you honestly surprised?" Harry asked quietly, the hall having returned to a state of quiet as Curtis Evercreech's name was called out.
"Why would I be? I told you earlier that I knew we'd become best friends."
Harry chuckled lightly at Lavender's previous claim that her great-grandmother was a seer, and that her bloodline occasionally allowed her to just 'know' things. "I thought you were full of shit."
"You're going to learn very quickly not to doubt me, Harry Evans," Lavender declared with confidence, lightly buttering some bread and ignoring the ceremony entirely.
"That so?" Harry asked, grabbing some bread for himself and finally partaking. He caught sight of Ron watching him from the other side of the room, so naturally he pointed at his food and gave a thumbs up to his still standing friend. The rude gesture Harry received in reply was honestly well deserved.
"Mmmmhmmmm!" Lavender hummed, covering her mouth with her hand that was complete with beautifully painted and manicured nails.
"Wouldn't be very Gryffindorish of me to doubt a friend, would it?"
"That's a good point," Lavender agreed, pointing her finger at Harry.
"Honestly though," Harry began, "I like to think I was sorted into Gryffindor thanks to the daring and nerve part rather than the chivalry."
"Chivalry wasn't even a thing by that name until after Godric Gryffindor had died," Fay said, cutting into the conversation. "And even then, it mostly pertained to the rules and ethics of combat rather than an honorable code as most think about it today." The pretty brunette looked somewhat bashful at the blank-faced stares Harry and Lavender were leveling towards her. "Sorry, both of my parents were Gryffindors. I'm a big fan of the House..." She quickly turned away, her curly brown hair hiding her face from view.
Harry shrugged blithely, utterly unconcerned with the detailed piece of history. He wasn't the chivalrous type, and he wasn't even going to pretend such was the case. Luckily, he doubted that he was alone. Nothing about Lavender struck him as chivalrous either.
"I better not be expected to be some kind of combat witch just because I was sorted into Gryffindor," Lavender urgently whispered to him. "Daddy took me to watch a dueling tournament once, and yeah, it was fun to watch – but I don't want to learn that stuff!"
Blood sport truly has no rival, Harry mused. The 'dueling circuit' was just a colloquialism for the many, many dueling tournaments that took place across the world; the scale of which varied from small, local tournaments to the grand championship featuring the best from around the world. Harry hadn't yet attended one of the tournaments himself, but they were supposed to be brutal. Deaths weren't the norm, but nor were they exceedingly rare. On the other hand, permanent injuries and maiming were far, far more common – apparently even healing magic had limits. Duels were an unholy combination largely born from the Ancient Roman's gladiatorial fights, fused with a smattering of rules inspired by Medieval Europe's honor duels. A violent blood sport between two individuals that could also be used as a staging ground for conflicts between Noble Houses. Harry couldn't wait to watch one in person.
"I doubt you'll have to, but I'm the wrong person to ask," Harry responded, though he was personally quite taken with the idea of learning combative magic.
"It would probably piss my mum off if I learned some dark curses though," Lavender murmured, finger tapping on her chin rhythmically. "You want to learn curses with me?"
"We should probably start with more basic spells, yeah?" Harry asked, he absolutely loved the girl's logic but made no comment on it. He knew she had issues with her mother, but it seemed to govern more of her decision-making process than he initially suspected.
"I guess... do you think Hogwarts has places where we can practice curses? Daddy never talked about learning curses, but then again he is a Hufflepuff."
Harry didn't question the continued assault on Hufflepuffs, apparently that's just how it worked in the magical world. "I'd assume so, I mean, did you see the size of this bloody castle? God, I can't wait to have a look around."
OoooOoooO
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"
"Who's that shouting? That's the third time I've heard them."
"That'll be Black, lass. Rotten son of a bitch does that all the time. Shouts, rants, and raves about how he'll tear him apart with his teeth."
"Tear who apart?"
"Pettigrew."
"But Black already killed him!?"
"Welcome to Azkaban, Tonks. Most of the inmates here are crazy before they get locked up. Those that aren't crazy when they come in don't last long."
"And Black?"
"Your cousin is like your aunt. Both of them too mad, too far gone. They break the mold."
"They're not my family!"
"We all have family we hate, doesn't change the facts."
"I'm not claiming the two most infamous Death Eaters as my family, Mad-Eye."
"Heh, fair enough. Now, time to focus. Constant Vigilance! Dementors and scum are the only ones that call this place home, and we're marching straight into their nest."
"Wait, we don't need an escort or anything?"
"You're training to be an auror, Tonks. Aurors don't play by the same rules as everyone else. I filled up half of these cells by myself – I can damn well check on them without an escort."
"By yourself? Not even a part of a team?"
"I work better on my own most days. Now listen, once we're in there, don't cast a Patronus unless I tell you to."
"Ugh, another 'training exercise?'"
"Aye, you may know how to combat dementors, but can you handle their presence? When you're in the middle of a fight you won't have time to calmly muster up your courage and cast a Patronus. You'll already be in the thick of it, with a hooded demon from hell bearing down on you. I want you familiar with the affect dementors passively have, even beyond their rotten, soul-sucking desires."
"Wait, are we here for combat training?"
"Of course not! They may call me Mad, but throwing around spells in the vicinity of the monsters in here is just asking for a prison break. No one has ever escaped from this hell-hole before and I won't have us be the reason for the first one!"
"Yeah, that makes sense, but does that mean we're literally just here to walk around?"
"Walk around? Of course not! We're going to go sit in a cell for a few hours and I'm going to quiz you the entire time. Every question you get wrong is another five minutes of dodging practice in the Yard."
"Mad-Eye."
"Eh?"
"You're evil."
"You're the one that wanted me as a mentor, lass. Got Albus, Filius, and Pomona to sign that letter of recommendation and everything. Heh, I still can't say no to Pomona."
"That's a mental picture I didn't need, thanks."
"You'll get over being embarrassed or put off by uncomfortable topics and imagery soon enough. I'll teach you not to freeze up at the sign of entrails painting a wall, like hell I'm going to let you freeze up thanks to some old bastard's cock flying in the breeze."
"Please, like I haven't seen a cock before."
"You've never seen mine, and you certainly haven't seen Rowle's when its half melted and sprouting mushrooms."
"What kind of spell caused that?"
"A bloody good one."
"Well, I don't think I'd freeze up seeing that."
"Hah, I damn well hope not, but not freezing up isn't good enough. Just look at me – the thought of Rowle writhing on the ground helps me get to sleep on rainy nights when my leg is aching up a storm."
"There's no way that's a healthy mindset."
"Bah, like I give a damn. I'm still alive, aren't I? Rowle is rotting in this dungeon, no? Leave the niceties at the door, Tonks. Aurors don't have the time for them."
OoooOoooO
Daniel was already sick of the stares. He had mentally prepared himself for them for a while now, well aware of the fact that his fame would never be something that he could take off or avoid, but they still annoyed him. No one in their right mind would want to be famous because they were orphaned, no one. If most of his current watchers had even an ounce of empathy, then they'd turn the other direction. If they used their brains, they'd realize that staring at someone because their parents died is a shitty thing to do. But stare they did – grin and bear it he would.
"You alright there?" Neville quietly asked from his place next to Daniel, both new Gryffindors were enjoying the many varieties of foods and drinks spread out upon the table.
"Yeah, just wish more of these people would eat rather than stare at me when they think I can't see."
"Could be worse, at least they're not shaking your hand anymore," Neville said before taking a bite of the generous helping of Beef Wellington on his plate.
Daniel chuckled to himself at the strange manner in which some of the Gryffindors had reacted to his sorting into the House. The loud, extra-long cheering was expected, but he would have never guessed that people would trip over themselves just to share their names and shake his hand. "Seriously though, what was up with that?"
"You think Harry had everyone do that to embarrass you?" Neville asked, his head subtly gesturing towards Daniel's wayward twin.
Daniel took a moment to consider his elder brother as he animatedly spoke with Ron and three girls, Brown, Dunbar, and Patil if he recalled correctly. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that it was theoretically possible that Harry was to blame... "Oh, it was probably him," Daniel said with a grin.
"You sure? Because I only said it as a joke..."
Neville was likely only half-serious in his attempts to cast more aspersions on Harry's character, but as amusing as it was to think about, Daniel doubted that Harry was genuinely at fault. Their brotherly instinct was not at the level that it could have been if they had been raised together, but Daniel still thought he had a decent understanding of how his elder twin operated at this point. Besides, if Harry had been at fault, he would have undoubtedly taken credit already.
"Alright, what about you lot – Potter, Longbottom?" The heavy, Irish accent of one Seamus Finnigan interrupted Daniel's vengeful but entertaining thoughts.
"Hmm? Sorry, I was thinking about something and missed what you said," Daniel replied
The sandy haired teen leaned in close to Daniel. "Right, so myself, Dean, Sally, Trinity, and Rose here," Seamus paused to gesture to the glasses wearing brunette and apparent co-conspirator that had leaned in next to him, "we're all planning on doing something together after the feast."
"My sister just graduated last year," Rose chimed in, "and she said the Gryffindors always throw a party first night back, but it always ends up splintering off into a bunch of smaller parties in the dorms after a few hours."
"And you all want to meet up?" Daniel asked, guessing what his fellow Gryffindors were thinking.
"Right in one, Potter," Seamus remarked, tipping his drink towards Daniel. "Not every first year needs to be fast friends on the first night, but I figured this group here could get together since we're already sitting together and all." The heavily freckled teen set his cup down and leaned in once more, eyes alight with anticipation. "So, you guys in?"
Daniel's eyes flickered over to Rose and the slight grin she wore, a grin that only grew when he raised an eyebrow towards her. Daniel may not have been as experienced to the ways of the world as Harry, but he wasn't completely naive. Hell, he'd made a point of grabbing one of the comparatively newer and thus less expensive bottles of whiskey that his parents had stored away and getting drunk with Neville as they sat around a bonfire a few weeks back. Harry's teasing was all in good fun, and it was clearly Harry's way of trying to establish a bond between the two of them, but Daniel would not allow his elder twin to maintain the worldly lead he currently held, not for long anyway. That was part of why he was so excited to be in Gryffindor rather than Hufflepuff like the hat seemed to be considering.
Gryffindors had a well-deserved reputation for being a bit on the wild side compared to the students of other houses. The stories Daniel had heard about his father were unrivaled in terms of both hilarity and vulgarity. The young teen could admit that his perspective was a bit skewed given the fact that all four of his parents had been in Gryffindor and so stories about that House were the only ones he'd ever had the chance to hear, but based on the values of each House the reputation seemed to check out.
Before Daniel had a chance to agree to hang out with his new House mates, Neville beat him to the punch. "Yeah, we're in," the tall blonde said confidently.
Daniel was delightfully surprised that his adopted brother was as interested as he was in experiencing new things now that they were at Hogwarts. Given the way they were raised, Daniel had half expected him to be strait-laced and boring, but the daring side of Neville showed up more than the rules abiding one.
"Excellent," Seamus said, rubbing his hands together. "We've got no set plans or anything, but I'll tell you now that I raided my mother's stash of liquor when she wasn't looking. I've got a fair number of bottles stowed in my trunk, and I'm more than happy to share."
"Brilliant," Daniel said. "Classes don't start until Wednesday, so it's not like we have to worry about tomorrow."
"My thoughts exactly, little brother!" Harry declared, claiming the small, open space next to Neville. The grinning teen nodded across the table at their fellow first years whose attention he had just gained. "Trinity Lynn there, sweet girl, blonde hair - anyway, she happened to mention to Lav that there was a party that was happening later on tonight, and I came over here to make sure Daniel got the memo. Lo and behold, he not only beat me to the punch, but he even got invited to the after-party before I did. I admit, little brother, I'm impressed."
Harry was as theatrical as ever, and apparently right at home with the Gryffindors that all seemed to find his antics amusing. Daniel couldn't blame them, he did as well.
"Well, if you lot are in, that brings us up to twelve, that's a good number I think," Seamus said, extending a hand for Harry to shake. "The name's Seamus Finnegan, in case you missed it, and I think most people know you by now."
That was the understatement of the year. Daniel had heard all the whispers that followed his twin. The fact that Harry seemed to saunter everywhere he went certainly didn't help. Daniel couldn't tell if the guy was actually enjoying the attention or not, but by all appearances it fit him like a glove.
"My little brother casts quite the shadow, but I do alright," Harry said, taking the freckled teen's proffered hand. "Did I hear correctly that you're bringing the booze?"
"That's right, my mum won't be happy when she notices how much I took."
"And how much would that be?" Harry asked eagerly, his eyes alight with anticipation.
"Let's see," Seamus began counting on his fingers. "Three bottles of Ogden's, two bottles of Blishen's, not as good in my opinion but some prefer it. I've got one large bottle of red currant rum, a 12-pack of Simison's, two bottles of Daisyroot Draught, and to top it off a bottle of Bungbarrel Mead."
"Oh, well that should be more than enough," Harry said happily. "I'll get you some gold later, yeah?"
Seamus waved off his offer. "You can if you want to, but I don't expect it. Da' always said drinks are better shared anyway."
"Good man, but I'll get you some gold anyway, it's only fair." Harry rose from his seat. "If you all will excuse me, I'm going to return from whence I came and share the absolutely splendid news that tonight we will all be getting drunk. Cheers."
"Your brother seems like a good bloke, Potter," Seamus said with a laugh.
Daniel gave his retreating brother's back a sideways glance and shrugged. "He's not bad, I suppose."
"You two don't seem that close despite being twins," Rose chimed in, her head laying in her palm. "How come?"
"Ahhh," Daniel scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Let's just say that we didn't grow up together and leave it at that."
Rose grimaced. "Sensitive topic then, sorry. That's my bad." The girl looked genuinely embarrassed for asking.
"Don't worry about, no way you could've known." Daniel was certain that at some point he'd snap at someone for asking that question, but it would only happen after he'd been asked many, many times after he'd made it clear it wasn't a topic he wished to discuss. Well, that was assuming Harry wasn't going to be super blasé about the whole thing. Daniel doubted he would be though. He liked to give off the impression that he was casual and easy-going all the time, but Daniel saw a different side of him in the coffee shop that day. Harry had a lot of anger he needed to work through. Daniel knew he wasn't a saint, but he was self-aware of how he had personally accepted and moved beyond his family's tragedy. Though it was understandable why, Harry had not done so, not yet at least.
"Gotta say, Nev," Daniel said, turning towards Neville, "didn't expect you to be the one saying yes to a party. What happened to keeping me out of trouble?"
Neville looked slightly bashful, shrugging as he deliberately took a drink.
"C'mon Nev, out with it."
"Just wanted to have some fun before classes started," Neville mumbled. "We were invited, so I figured why not?"
"Hey, I don't disagree, I was going to say yes for both of us if you hadn't." Daniel lowered his voice and jokingly jostled Neville with his elbow. "You're not about to change your mind now that Harry is coming, right?"
Neville rolled his eyes. "No, and for the last time I don't hate him."
"Could've fooled me," Daniel said, grabbing another slice of treacle tart for himself. Dinner had been amazing, but nothing was better than treacle tart.
"I said he was a dick, not a bad person."
"You literally censured him on the train for stealing food."
"That's because stealing is wrong!" Neville said, seemingly amazed that he was being challenged on that point.
Daniel raised an eyebrow at his adopted brother. "Food, Nev. He said he was stealing food."
"I still think he was exaggerating. Mum and dad said he lived in a nice neighborhood with a nice woman. Do you think they would somehow miss out on there not being enough food in the house? Really?"
That was actually a fair point. Alice and Frank were both former aurors, a career path that demanded attention to detail and seeing beyond the surface. They wouldn't miss anything. Harry had never given the impression that he was malicious, but he was rather fond of hyperbole and flaunting rules, that much was obvious. "You think he'd lie like that?" Daniel asked.
"I'll put it this way, the only House I was positive he wouldn't be in was Hufflepuff," Neville said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder where the yellow and black clad students were gathered.
"Who's a liar?" Rose asked, reentering the conversation once more.
"Harry," Neville declared without fanfare. "Though, I do think that's a harsh label. I just think he's prone to exaggeration."
Rose's face contorted into a puzzled expression. "Isn't that the same thing as lying?"
Neville waved his hand in a so-so gesture. "By the literal definition, sure, but I think they give off different impressions."
"I don't claim to know the guy, but that wouldn't surprise me," Rose agreed.
Daniel still wasn't certain either way, but he decided it wasn't even worth the effort to think about. It was in the past regardless, and grilling Harry on the subject after it had been settled on the train was fruitless. Better to just leave it as water under the bridge, move on, and enjoy treacle tart.
Daniel was spared further conversation on the subject by Dumbledore rising to the stand. In a similar way to McGonagall earlier, everyone got quiet suspiciously quickly.
"Ahem – now that we are all sufficiently fed and watered, I have a few quick announcements before I release you all to your dorms."
Daniel smiled fondly at seeing the old man in his element. Over the years Daniel had met the man quite a few times. Dumbledore would always visit two or three times a year, check the status of the wards, but also just talk or offer a gift for Christmas or birthdays. Daniel wouldn't go so far as to call the man his grandfather or anything, but he definitely considered him a family friend. Plus, he knew for certain that Dumbledore had been instrumental in keeping he and his family alive both during and after the war. Details still eluded him, but the snippets of conversation he'd overheard from his parents clued him in to as much. Luckily, his parents had always referred to him by either his last name or as 'Professor' themselves, so no adjustment was needed in regards to what he should call the man.
Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "First of all, I would like to remind all students that the Forbidden Forest is true to its name and remains forbidden beyond the border. First years, I recommend that you avoid it entirely."
Daniel wasn't surprised about that rule. The Forbidden Forest was one of only three magical nature preserves in Britain. A positively massive forest with all manner of magical creatures and fauna hiding within. Dad had promised to take him and Neville camping in there once they were ready for it. Daniel was still looking forward to that.
"As a reminder, if you are interested in playing Quidditch you will need to consult Madam Hooch for the proper form, and then turn that into your respective head of House for details on tryouts."
Daniel was still disappointed that he would have to wait a year to pursue Quidditch, he absolutely loved the game. Even by his lonesome he'd been running seeker drills on the grounds since the moment he first flew. Apparently Quidditch was in his blood, and that was a legacy he intended to honor.
"And finally," Dumbledore said, his voice stern, "I must warn you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is off limits to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Daniel didn't have a death wish but even he was curious to see what was waiting within that corridor. The people in this castle that had the self-preservation instincts of a lemming didn't stand a chance. Merlin, did Harry stand a chance?
"Now, that is all from me," Dumbledore's voice was far more chipper than just seconds prior, "as usual the curfew tonight has been extended to eleven o'clock for those that wish to continue to enjoy the feast. There will be no roaming the corridors, but you may stay in the Great Hall and fraternize to your hearts' content should you so desire. Welcome back to Hogwarts!"
On cue most of the students rose to their feet and began heading off to their respective dormitories, with the odd few going out of their way to greet or join students from other Houses. Before Daniel even had a chance to wonder where he should be going, all the Gryffindor first years were rounded up by the two of the prefects, the youngest two if Daniel had to guess.
"All right everyone, listen up!" The blonde girl's voice carried pretty well, she was able to grab the attention of all forty or so Gryffindor first years without issue. "My name is Amira Barrett, and this is Percy Weasley, we're the fifth year prefects."
As if it was rehearsed, the guy, Percy, stepped forward the moment Amira stopped talking. "We will be guiding you to the dormitories today, and back down here to the Great Hall tomorrow morning at ten for any who wish to."
I think Ron had mentioned that he had a brother named Percy, I bet this is him, Daniel thought idly. While the offer to guide the new students tomorrow morning was appreciated, Daniel seriously doubted he was going to attend. It was already fairly late, and apparently he was due for a long night with his new House mates. It was a safe bet that he'd be sleeping in.
"Fair warning," Amira continued, "the castle is difficult to navigate for even experienced students, for those who are new it borders on impossible."
Again, the tall, glasses-wearing redhead picked up right where his companion had left off. "There are shifting corridors, secret passageways, and moving staircases, all of which may or may not work depending on the day."
Percy and Amira were far too synchronized for this not to be rehearsed. Daniel respected the effort, but he honestly wasn't sure who they were trying to impress, the teachers had already left the Great Hall. Perhaps that was presumptuous of him though, Mum always seemed to know exactly what he and Neville were up to regardless of where she was in the house.
"I will be leading while Percy brings up the rear, so none of you will get lost tonight, but please try and pay attention. I promise that it will help you out in the coming weeks."
The Gryffindor first years dutifully followed after the attractive prefect as she led them through the halls. Their route took them upstairs, then downstairs, through two secret passageways, behind a tapestry, up some more stairs, down a number of large corridors, and then up some more stairs. Left down that corridor, right down another, and then two more rights. Again, they went up even more stairs that were apparently only for going up, and a different set would be required to go down. Three more lefts followed by two rights, and then a final set of stairs and a landing. At the end of the landing stood a portrait of a very large woman lounging on a balcony, sipping wine in the breeze.
"How in the hell are we supposed to remember that?" Neville whispered to Daniel. "Seriously, how?"
"No clue," Daniel said, and he honestly meant it. All of the sudden that time his father had laughed when he said he would memorize all of Hogwarts made sense. This school was a bloody labyrinth.
"I know that journey was rather confusing," Percy declared, his voice carrying throughout the large chamber, "but I promise that it will get easier with time. Plus, if you have any questions you may ask not only the teachers and prefects, but any of the more helpful ghosts, paintings, and even suits of armor. I can't promise they'll always help you, but it doesn't hurt to try."
"This here," Amira said, drawing everyone's attention back towards her, "is the guardian of Gryffindor tower-"
"Oh, just call me the Fat Lady, dearies," the portrait of the woman said, interrupting Amira's introduction. "It's been my name for over two centuries so I'm rather fond of it at this point." The Fat Lady seemed like a fairly affable woman as far as Daniel could tell.
"Anways," Amira said somewhat tersely, apparently not fond of being interrupted, "the Fat Lady guards the entrance to our tower and will thus require a password to get inside. Fair warning, the password changes every week on Sunday, with new passwords posted on the announcements board inside the common room."
"Remember, dearies, no password, no entry. You'll be stuck outside until another Gryffindor comes along to let you in." Daniel recanted his opinion of the woman given how large her smile was when she spoke of locking people out. Further research was definitely required.
"The password this week is "Caput Draconis," Amira continued. "Oh, and do not share it with anyone outside of our House. Students from other Houses are allowed into our common room only if someone lets them in, understand?"
The infamous House rivalry in action, Daniel mused. The bitter relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin was the most frequently discussed rivalry, but it was no secret that all of the Houses had their fair share of spats with one another. According to his parents the rivalry was barely noticeable on most days, but during the weeks and months when it flared up, things could get rather heated.
"I'm done for," Neville muttered.
Daniel cocked his head quizzically. "Huh, why?"
"Do you not remember?" Neville asked, somewhat surprised. "Back when we were seven, we turned the attic into our clubhouse, remember?"
"Oh, that's right!" Daniel exclaimed, following the slowly ambling crowd as they funneled into the opening from when the Fat Lady's portrait swung open. "We set a password to get in, but you forgot it immediately!"
Neville grimaced, nodding sadly. "You changed it after that, but I still forgot it almost immediately. By day four it had been changed six times and I couldn't remember it even once."
"You're right, you're done for."
"Surely I've gotten better about that? Right?" Neville asked nervously.
Daniel shook his head in the negative. "After only nine years? Not a chance."
The inside of the common room reminded Daniel of a very large, very well-furnished, multi-tiered and floored circular living room. There were red couches and chairs all around the room, most of them already occupied by the older students. Along the walls where there weren't large fireplaces or pillow laden bay windows hung portraits and tapestries aplenty. Scattered around the outskirts were dozens of small tables and chairs that Daniel imagined would be good places to study in the evenings – assuming Gryffindors studied, that is. The center of the room was dominated by an extremely large hearth that extended into the upper floors. Thanks to the various sources of fire around the room, the ambient light was just enough to read and study in without ever feeling too bright. Daniel loved it.
A large whistle sounded from the corner of the room where a surprisingly short, but clearly older student given his facial hair, stood atop the table. "Alright, now that the firsties have joined us, it's time for the real start of term announcements!"
Oh, this should be good.
"For those of you who don't know me, my name is Ralphy Howard, prefect extraordinaire. No, I am not Head Boy, that honor belongs to a damn Puff this year."
Daniel was not prepared for the near universal booing that accompanied Ralphy's statement.
"I know, I know, and I'm sorry," the prefect dramatically clutched his chest. "If I had been Head Boy we could've gotten away with a lot more bull-shit."
That was not the direction Daniel expected that apology to turn. Hermione's scandalized face suggested that she too was surprised by this outcome
"Plus, I lost to a Puff, at least Hallie only lost to a Ravenclaw."
Do all Gryffindor's hate Hufflepuffs? Daniel wondered; a tad bit self-conscious of the fact that he himself was almost a 'Puff.'
"But hey," Ralphy continued, "we can't all be Bill Weasleys, now can we?"
The cheers that echoed throughout the room at the mention of another one of Ron's older brothers was surprising. The bloke had been very popular if this reaction was anything to go by. Daniel hadn't talked to Ron that much, but he almost felt for the guy, that was quite the legacy to live up to.
"Here's to you, Bill, you beautiful bastard, you," Ralphy said, raising the bottle of whiskey that was suddenly in his hand skyward before taking a large swig. "Ah, and speaking of Weasleys, now that Charlie is no longer with us, Wood is our new Captain." Ralphy pointed to a tall, serious looking guy with a buzz-cut. "If you want on the team go through all the shit Dumbledore mentioned but also talk to Wood. He'll be arranging try-outs soon. Wood! What positions are we filling?"
"One chaser and a seeker as starters, reserves for the whole team," Wood called back. "Oh, and first years are allowed to try out for reserves. Get your name in early for next year. You won't play in games, of course, but you'll still be useful for scrims and drills."
"There you have it, kiddos!" Ralphy said, looking straight at the first years who were still largely congregated together.
Daniel quickly scanned the group to look for Harry and instead found him sitting halfway across the room on a couch alongside the same four people he'd spent the entire feast talking to. How did he make it over there so quickly?
"Next on this list is a fair warning to all you firsties – Professor Snape fucking hates us." Not a single person in the room laughed or jeered. "You may think that's an exaggeration, but it's not. Snape is the potion's professor, and he's going to make your lives are hell. Oh sure, he grades fairly, but he's a sardonic ass that won't hesitate to insult you, your family, your dead cat – hell, even your neighbor's cousin isn't safe."
Daniel had heard mention of Severus Snape more than a few times in his life. The man had loathed his father, at one point been friends with his mother before that friendship eroded into ash. Daniel knew that he had fought for their side during the war against Voldemort, but his dad said that he was still a piece of work. Apparently, nothing had changed.
"General stuff that honestly everyone could use a reminder on: NO duels in the common room. Take that shit to the corridor outside or I will personally have Hallie beat your ass into next week, and we all know she can."
Hallie's smug face and the odd shudder of fear from the other students was confirmation enough for Daniel to believe the girl was not worth pissing off. Ever.
Ralphy pointed to all the couches and chairs. "Older students get priority seating. No one cares that it's not fair to the younger students - deal with it, that's what the rest of us have done. What else, hm?" Ralphy paused and bent down so Hallie could speak into his ear. "That's right! Thank you, Hallie! This is for everyone – do not, I repeat, DO NOT bring any weird or dangerous creatures into the common room! A few years back some asshole decided to try and raise some Horklumps in here. Those little mushroom shits ended up releasing spores that stank up the common room for weeks! So, don't bring in anything weird! Owls, cats, and if you have one for some ungodly reason, toads, I guess. Otherwise, keep the damn creatures out! Capisce? Good."
That rule was more than fine for Daniel. While he didn't dislike most pets, he also wasn't the biggest animal person. He had his owl, Hedwig, and she was perfect for him.
"Oh, one more thing for you all to note," Ralphy said, holding up his index finger, the fact that the bottle of whiskey was in the same hand certainly added to the imagery. "The House Cup… here in Gryffindor, we really don't care about it. No seriously, we don't. Gryffindor hasn't won that blasted thing in the last seventeen years, and I doubt that's going to change just because it's 1991. As nice as benefits like the later curfew, special bathhouses, extra feasts, and priority quidditch pitch access are, well…" Ralphy paused for dramatic effect, "they're not worth kissing ass for an entire year!"
Ralphy's words were punctuated by a large cheer from the rest of the House, music was immediately blared from an unknown source, and drinks suddenly started being poured. Ralphy continued shouting even over the loud music. "REMEMBER, KIDS – DON'T EMBARRASS THE HOUSE AND WELCOME TO GRYFFINDOR!"
As Daniel let himself get pulled along by Rose into a whirlwind of drinking, talking, and even some dancing, he knew that he was going to love his time at Hogwarts.
OoooOoooO
"Hey, Remus. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me."
"I only agreed because I knew your boys would already be at Hogwarts."
"You still don't want to see either of them? Even after all these years?"
"No, Alice, I don't. Not after failing him as I did."
"Self-pity never was a good look on you."
"Spare me your spiel, we both know I've heard it a dozen times."
"Then do something about it, damn it!"
". . . Why'd you want to see me, Alice?"
"I wanted to ask you to meet with the boys."
"No."
"Will you at least hear me out? Please? This isn't about me, hell, it's barely even about Daniel."
". . . Harry?"
"Yes."
"What about him? He should've started Hogwarts this year without issue. What happened to him?"
"He's fine, Remus, he's fine. Perfectly healthy, just some emotional scars to deal with."
"If his life isn't in danger, then I'm not seeing him."
"Even if he hates Frank and I?"
"What?"
"Well, hate may be a strong word, but he's not fond of us. I don't know what I expected him to feel towards me, but it's clear he hasn't forgiven me at all, let alone trust me."
". . ."
"Anyway, this isn't about me. What I wanted to ask you was if you'd speak with him about James, tell him stories of your Hogwarts days."
"You were friends with James too, I'm sure you can share plenty."
"Remus, please. I was friends with James, but you were his brother."
"Why ask now, and why just for Harry?"
"I've asked you to be a part of Daniel's life plenty of times!"
"Don't deflect the question. I mean this specific reason, at this specific time. Why now?"
"Because Harry reminds me of James. Don't get me wrong, I see James in Daniel too, especially his looks, but with Harry it's different. His approach to life, his sense of humor, the way he sees everything around him as another way to have fun."
"Yeah… that sounds like James."
"Harry is rougher around the edges than James ever was, but he's also less spoiled, a bit more emotionally mature."
". . ."
"He only agreed to meet me in person once, and he spent a good portion of that meeting furious at me, but since then he hasn't said a word to me. He said I was allowed to write to him, but he doesn't write back. I just thought it'd be good for him if you'd do the same. It'd be good for both of you, actually."
"If Harry is loath to speak with you, why would he speak with me? I never even made an attempt to be in his life."
"Because technically, you didn't have an obligation to."
"THE HELL I DIDN'T!"
"Remus…"
"Fuck… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll go."
"Damn it, Remus, sit back down! Now!"
". . ."
"Thank you… Now, look, I think Harry blames me more than anyone else. I was the only person who betrayed the job his parents entrusted unto me. Okay? I'm not saying he'll be immediately thrilled to meet you, but-"
"Do you know what Daniel and Harry called me shortly after they turned one? Do you?"
"No, I don't…"
"They called me 'Unc Rem.' I never even tried to teach them my full name, and Lily ran with Rem. They barely had 'unc' down, and a few weeks after their birthday they called me 'Unc Rem.' No prompting or encouragement was needed. They just recognized me when I walked in while they were all eating dinner."
"Oh, Remus…"
"Don't… don't you ever fucking tell me I didn't have an obligation to those boys! Don't you dare! I had one! I had one, and I failed! A werewolf could never raise a child, I know that – but a werewolf should've been able to sniff out a traitor! I should've been able to murder that son of a bitch before he ever had the chance to betray them! I should've protected them… all of them."
"It's not too late to protect them, you know?"
"I know…"
OoooOoooO
Harry wasn't sure it was possible to have a better first night at Hogwarts than what he'd experienced so far. The feast had started strong when he quickly befriended Parvati and Fay alongside his already budding friendships with Ron and Lavender. Then, the night got even better when he learned that not only were Gryffindors even more wild and carefree than he'd expected, but that they threw great parties with lots of free liquor! Hours had passed since the glorious party first began, and Harry had since moved onto what he jokingly dubbed 'the after party' with a group of fellow sixteen-year old students.
Harry, Ron, Lavender, Parvati, Fay, Dean, Seamus, Trinity, and much to Harry's surprise, Hermione had all gathered into Dean and Seamus' twin room. Daniel was originally supposed to join them, but the last time Harry had seen his little brother he was being straddled by some bird as they snogged. Harry enjoyed tormenting his younger twin, but not even he was cruel enough to try and interrupt a lovely experience like that. As for Neville, last he'd seen of the poor bloke was when he was passed out on the floor missing his shirt and one pant leg. Harry was kind enough to grab him a pillow before he went upstairs.
Of the missing individuals, Neville was for sure the one who was going to regret passing out early the most. After congregating in the room, finding a nice wizarding wireless to turn on, and opening a few of the bottles so generously provided by Seamus – Parvati, bless the girl, had suggested a game of truth or dare. Harry hadn't been that surprised to find that the infamous party game had made its way into wizarding society; and after thinking about it for a second, he wasn't surprised that Parvati was the one to suggest playing it either.
The game had started off innocent enough, but as more drinks were had, the more the stakes were raised. Harry was honestly rather pleased with the results. Dean, after performing a lap dance for first Trinity then Ron, was dared to wear nothing but Lavender's skirt for the rest of the evening. Over the course of a few dares, Lavender, after losing her skirt, proceeded to lose the rest of her clothes including her bra, snogged Fay, Ron, and Harry, then gave Seamus a hand-job in private. Upon their return, Harry had never seen a bloke look so happy in all his life. Ron was shirtless and had successfully played with both Parvati's tits and Fay's ass. Trinity got fingered by Dean, and based on the noises the guy certainly knew what he was doing. Fay, who was wearing nothing but her knickers, had been dared to sit in Seamus' lap for the rest of the evening when he too was down to nothing but his small clothes. Parvati performed a striptease for everyone – a routine she seemed quite well practiced in. Harry was down to nothing but his shorts and Lavender's tie, surprisingly enough. Personally, his most risqué dare involved sporting a hard-on in front of everybody, generously fluffed by none other than Trinity. Harry was rather content with that dare, it felt good and he had no shame.
There had been other, more varied dares as well. Harry did a shot from Fay's bellybutton, Seamus was dared to kiss Dean, Ron and Trinity had to go retrieve something from the common room after stripping down, Lavender and Harry had to smack the ass of everybody in the room. The list was both long and enjoyable for all. By the time things were finished, they were just a bunch of drunk, horny teenagers seeing how far they could push each other. Well, everyone except for Hermione. Harry had to give her credit where it was due, she was a better sport than he was anticipating. Hell, when he'd first found her after the party began, she'd been adamantly against even taking a single drink. A bit of peer pressure later and she was at least willing to try a single glass; and as the night went on, she was progressively more comfortable with upping the ante. Though it took a fair bit of time, eventually the normally stuck-up girl was as intoxicated as the rest of them. When it was her turn in the game once more, she surprised everyone by choosing 'dare' for the first time. Lavender, bless her, assumed it was their one and only chance so she went for broke and dared Hermione to strip completely naked. No one who had met the girl could believe it when she actually did so. Accompanied by the raucous cheers of all present, Hermione Granger ducked under the covers and slowly threw out every single article of clothing she had once been wearing. No one saw an ounce of skin beyond her very, very flushed face, but Harry still considered it one of the highlights of the evening.
Harry smiled fondly at the many memories the night had spawned and took a drink of Daisyroot Draught, his cigarette held off to the side. The fruity liquor was, much to his surprise, not overly sweet and thus very good straight. Cigarette once more held in his mouth; he fell backwards onto his bed, utterly unconcerned where the majority of his clothes had vanished to. His pants he kept close at hand though, he couldn't risk losing his smokes. The game between the teens had long since come to a close: Ron, Seamus, and Fay were all passed out on the bed together in various states of undress. Hermione had taken her bedspread laden self and snuck off to her room. Dean and Trinity had snuck off to someplace private together. That just left Lavender, Parvati, and himself still in the room.
Almost as if on queue both girls fell onto the bed on either side of him. Harry definitely did not have the most discerning eye at that moment, but he could swear that Parvati was wearing his shirt while Lavender had his robe… "You mind?" Lavender asked, removing the cigarette from Harry's mouth and sticking it in her own before he could say anything.
The expected cough and sputter never came. "You've smoked before," Harry accused.
"Mhm," Lavender nodded, exhaling a cloud of exotic smoke. "Daddy smokes pipes, I figured it was the same thing."
"You're not wrong," Harry mumbled, sitting up and reaching off the bed to retrieve his wand and preferred brand of cigarettes. "Want one?" He asked, extending the open packet towards the rather languid Parvati laying on her side.
"Sure, why not?" She craned her head forward and let Harry place it in her mouth.
"Breathe it in slowly, let it rest at the back of your throat a bit, then inhale," He warned. As amusing as it could be to see people coughing because of their first cigarette, he had seen it enough that he didn't really care to see it anymore. With an already well practiced movement Harry had both his and Parvati's smokes lit in a flash before he fell back into his previous spot as if he'd never budged an inch.
For a few minutes no one said a word. The silence wasn't awkward at all, the wizarding wireless was playing a cover of Phil Collins' Against All Odds, and the trio was content to enjoy their smokes. Harry idly took notice of the fact that the girls were communicating without actually saying a word, but he didn't even try to translate it – if it concerned him then he'd figure it out later.
"Ugh, fine," Lavender suddenly whined. She swung her legs off the bed and shakily stood up. "Ah, fuck."
"You good?" Harry asked, concerned that his new friend was about to faceplant the floor. The only reply being a thumbs up was not the most reassuring of gestures.
"For Merlin's sake, lay down and sleep here, Lav," Parvati said, patting the bed. "Don't worry, we'll leave."
Harry raised a single eyebrow. "Oh? We will?" Smoke gently poured from his mouth as he turned to look at the girl named after the Hindu goddess of beauty.
"Yes, we will," she teased, one of her hands reaching forward to ghost over his clothed crotch.
Well, Harry certainly wasn't the type of guy that would argue with an invitation like that. He winked at Parvati and then rolled over towards Lavender. "Hey," he said, pulling the drunken girl towards the bed. "Rest here, you've got the bed all to yourself."
"All for me?" Lavender asked cutely as snuggled into the sheets.
"All yours."
"Mkay, night Harry, have fun…" The girl's eyes were closed after the first word.
Harry rose from the bed and took Parvati's hand to lead the girl back to the room that had been marked as his and Ron's. How the rooms had been divided he still wasn't sure, but that was a question for another, more sober occasion. The sound of music, laughter, and even dancing still echoed from the common room proper.
The two hadn't yet made it back to the room when Parvati's hand circled the back of his neck and pulled his head down into a rough, fevered kiss. Their lips met as Harry's hand instinctively fell to the girl's toned hips. Harry shifted away from the kiss, his lips trailing along her jaw until he was able to whisper in her ear. "Just couldn't wait until we were someplace, private, huh?" His voice, rougher than normal, made Parvati shiver as her hands dragged down his chest, nails leaving a soft, white marks in their wake. Harry sealed her mouth with his, her answer turning into a moan as his tongue swirled around hers. She tasted like red currant rum and the smoke he was oh so familiar with. He wasn't sure he'd ever associate with her anything else...
XXXXXXXXXX
Harry held himself up on his forearms, his head bent forward and resting against her shoulder. With a small heave he pushed himself off of her, laying on the bed directly parallel to the nearly breathless girl – not that he could judge, he was still completely winded himself. Parvati rolled over, turning his arm into a pillow as their legs became entangled. Brown eyes met green and she began to giggle. Harry raised an eyebrow, both amused and confused at the sudden bout of laughter from the nude girl. "I was that bad, huh?" Harry teased. Once upon a time he'd asked that question genuinely scared of the answer, but those days were but a distant memory.
"Oh, please, we both know you weren't," Parvati assuaged his non-existent anxiety as her fingers idly traced his build. "I'm just laughing at my family's reaction if they knew I'd shagged one of the first guys I met on my first night in the castle."
"Furious I take it?" Harry asked as he rose from the bed.
Parvati watched him as he lit his cigarette with the ease of a long habit. "My dad would be mad, but mum would only be 'disappointed.'"
Harry savored the pleasant warmth at the back of his throat as he climbed back into the bed. "And your sister?"
A wicked grin rose to her face. "Once I give her the details… jealous."
Harry laughed as a surged of confidence welled within him – whether it was the lingering alcohol in his system, the bliss from good sex, or just his slowly rising ego he wasn't sure. "Tell her that if she's interested, she knows where to find me."
"Did you really just offer to fuck my sister while I'm still naked in your bed?" Parvati asked, utterly amazed.
Harry exhaled a puff of smoke as he offered her a cigarette. "Maybe."
"You're incorrigible." The cigarette was plucked from his hands.
"You like it."
"Maybe," Parvati laughed, the fag in her hand outstretched as she propped herself up on the pillows, "now light this thing already."
Harry obliged the girl via his favorite and most practiced spell. "Flamma Vus," he said. One of his favorite aesthetics was a naked girl smoking in bed. It was an experience he considered himself fortunate enough to have seen multiple times in person, and it was no different with Parvati. Even with her admittedly novice technique with smoking, he couldn't take his eyes off her.
She exhaled a large cloud. "Seriously, why do I keep saying yes to these things they taste awful?"
"Because they go excellently with sex and alcohol."
"I guess," Parvati said, the fag rising to her lips. "I'll pass on the booze though. I'd actually like to be able to wake up tomorrow."
"Probably smart," Harry murmured, "I hope that doesn't mean you plan on going to sleep soon though?" This was the first time he'd gotten laid in months; he really didn't want it to end so quickly.
"And miss out on another round of that?" Parvati scoffed as she rolled over, now perpendicular to him with her head resting on his chest. "We're going to start round two as soon as you're ready."
Harry basked in the praise. "You sure know how to stroke a guy's ego, huh?"
Parvati tilted her head, smiling up at him. "I'm not about to lie and say that wasn't the best sex I've had, but don't let it go to your head – you're the only guy to have actually made me cum, so my standards aren't that high."
"Duly noted," Harry said, internally allowing the compliment to indeed go to his head. "But come on, you can't blame me for being a bit proud after hearing that?" He blew a stream of smoke off to the side and away from her face, making a mental note to look up scent defusal spells soon, Ron probably wouldn't appreciate their shared room smelling like smoke all the time – or sex for that matter.
Parvati tapped her chin in thought, "alright, that's fair, but you have to keep that level of performance up until we both pass out. Deal?"
"Deal."
Harry wasn't sure what time it was when they both fell asleep, but he made damn sure that he kept up his end of the bargain.
