Author: remind me to breathe a.k.a. Claire
E-Mail: claire(at)streber24.de
Rating: PG-13 (to be safe)
Pairing: none
Time: 1991, Harrys first year
Disclaimer: I own not a thing. Due to the fact that this story covers one of the years already written, the majority of the events and some of the dialogue comes straight from the book.
Thanks to: Healer Molly for thesuperb beta
The good guys, the bad guys…and us
"He was an acerbic, determined worker. In the beginning, he concentrated on Potions, which nearly drove Severus mad. He must have worked several hours a day to possess the skill he soon showed in lessons. Later, he learned Runes as well. I don't know why he was suddenly so interested in them. We began to worry when he started to research the rise and fall of You-Know-Who in old newspapers because, as he said, history books were written by the winners. If only we had known what he really wanted to know!"
Filius Flitwick, writing about Harry Potter, in a letter to his sister, June 98
"Wake up!" Hermione called.
"Coming, Aunt Petunia," mumbled Harry into his pillow.
"Petunia? This is Hermione! We're at Hogwarts and this is our first day, remember?"
"Hogwarts?" Harry asked sleepily. Then he remembered what had happened. Magic. Slytherin. Ron. Hermione.
"Yes, darling…Hogwarts," Hermione said.
"Who's a darling?" asked Ron as he walked into the room.
"Idiot," Harry murmured.
"That's sweet of you to say, but I still don't know who the idiot is and who the darling is," Ron said. "Well, there was just Hermione and you in the room. She was the one talking, so you must her darling idiot…"
"Bloody hell, shut up!" Harry yelled.
"Obviously at this time of the morning, Harry isn't in such good spirits. I wonder if cold water would help his mood..." Ron said to Hermione.
"Cold water? Are you crazy?" Harry asked.
"No. But I want you to get up," Ron said.
"Speaking of spirits, you know what we should do? We should pay Malfoy a visit," Harry said, grinning.
"Just get up Harry!" Hermione said.
"Only if we pay him a visit!" said Harry with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"But…" Hermione hesitated.
"Please?" Harry pleaded.
"Get ready," Hermione said, resignedly.
"Is that a yes?"
"Yes," said Hermione. "First though, we'll shower, prepare today's lessons, read the papers and order some books."
"Read the papers?" asked Ron.
"I'm having some of the most influential newspapers in the world delivered," Hermione said as she pulled out a stack of papers.
"This is…how do I say this tactfully… a bit much," said Ron.
"The integrity of some newspapers is questionable, Ron. So, I think it's necessary to compare them."
"We have to read all of them?"
"Everybody reads a third of each paper. We'll each take sections, for example, Ministry or Money. Articles about significant topics will be collected, and then we'll write a summary about it. Then we'll have an index to keep everything organized. This way we'll always have information about important people and events at our disposal," Hermione stated.
"That is sooo much work," Ron whined.
"Oh hush Ron, it's a half an hour out of your day," Hermione said. "Just think of the possibilities if we find any contradictions between two papers."
"Blackmail," Harry said with an evil grin. "This sounds like fun!"
It was good that Albus Dumbledore hadn't seen Harry's smile just then.
"Look!" exclaimed Hermione. "Somebody broke into Gringotts!"
"Wow. We should think about doing that too," said Harry.
"Harry! I thought Gringotts was safe..." Hermione said.
Harry shook his head. "Well, it was safe."
"Does it say what they stole?" Ron asked.
"Nothing was taken. But why did you say 'they'? What makes you think it was more than one person?" Harry asked slyly.
Ron rolled with his eyes. "Sorry, wrong phrasing."
"Ron just volunteered to read the money sections," Harry called out to Hermione.
"Did he?" Hermione said brightly. "That's fine; he'll read that section for the whole year."
"Hey!" Ron yelled.
That very same morning, Severus Snape was rudely awakened.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" A terrified scream echoed down the corridors.
First years. Hadn't he told the older students to leave the first years alone for at least the first few days? Sighing, he got out of bed and looked at his map. All of the second years up to the seventh years looked as though they were still sleeping. That was understandable; the perpetrators would know that Snape would look at his map and were probably acting as if they were still asleep. He also noticed a commotion in Potter's room. He didn't care. They would just have take care of themselves. It was total mayhem in Draco's room however and Snape hurried to him.
"What is going on in here?" Snape asked as he ran in. He glanced at Draco who was drenched from head to foot and nearly crying. "A Malfoy crying, what a site! " he thought to himself.
"There were figures in dark robes and they attacked us with ice-cold water!"
"Figures in dark robes...that could be serious," Snape thought.
"How many were there?"
Draco hesitated. He had seen only three figures in dark robes, but there were three of them too, so they should have been able to defend themselves...
"Four or five, at least. They were very big."
"Alright, I'll charm you dry, and then I'll look for them." He quickly performed the charm to dry the boys and then swept out of their room.
"Four or five of them…this sounds like something Flint and his gang would do...ice-cold water...if they dare pretend that they were asleep..." Snape fumed.
The trio had breakfast very early. They didn't want to be confronted by Ron's brothers and they certainly didn't want to receive a howler from his mum.
"The papers this morning didn't seem too reliable," Hermione mused.
"They're probably controlled by their owners," Ron pointed out. "You see, the Nighthawk is under probably under Gringotts' thumb while the Daily Prophet is clearly controlled by the Ministry."
"That could be the editors work," Harry pointed out.
"Yes – but who pays the editor?"
"The owner," Harry answered, nodding his head. "I get it. Do you think we could buy the papers out and make them more independent?"
"That wouldn't be easy. I think if I was the editor or the owner, I wouldn't want one single person to dictate everything."
"But you wouldn't care if it was owned by more than one person?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah. Then there would be enough different opinions," Ron said.
"We could really do this… we would just have to buy shares very slowly under various names. We'd have to be careful to buy just the right amount of shares, never too few, never too many. We would have to buy shares in other things too, not just newspapers, so that nobody becomes suspicious," Harry murmured. "But how do we get different identities?"
Hermione grinned. "I have an idea. Saving accounts in the Muggle world can be opened without any identification, they just use your name. We could open an account under a fake name, transfer it to the Muggle section of Gringotts into a new vault – and Voila! - a new person is born!"
"Then we could even order things with age restrictions!" Ron said.
"It will take a LONG time to buy out all those newspapers," Harry pointed out.
"True, but we're going to be at Hogwarts for seven years. We'll have plenty of time," Hermione pointed out.
"Don't you think that others might have had this same idea?" Harry asked.
"They could have, but they don't have access to different identities and they don't have as much time as we do. Plus, they don't have a friend who just happens to be one of the richest wizards in the country."
"They don't?" asked Ron.
"No."
"Okay, let's join the stock market! But, like I said, we can't just buy shares in newspapers, people would become suspicious," Harry said.
"Hmm…we could buy different things depending on the identity we create. Clothes, sweets, books, and so on, maybe even potion ingredients…useful things with a constant yield, " Ron said excitedly. The other two smiled at his enthusiasm.
"Guys – we're eleven! We should be playing with Barbies and stuff – not trading shares!" Hermione said.
"Barbie? What's a Barbie? What Hermione said about playing gives me an idea. We could do our money business in public, so people wouldn't get suspicious. We'll 'pretend' to play the world market. One galleon is in reality a thousand galleons. If I say, five galleons on emeralds, Hermione writes that in her notebook. In reality though, she buys shares of emeralds worth five thousand galleons. Anybody who might be listening will think this is just a stupid game by children pretending to be adults. But we'll really be doing it," Ron said.
"Brilliant," Hermione murmured.
Ron continued. "We'll open two vaults today, ten galleons in each. I'll buy one galleon's worth of shares of Flourish & Blotts. Could you write that down, Hermione? Harry – do you want to buy shares, too?"
Harry smirked. "I'll just have to watch the market for a while. It looks like you'll be our new expert."
"Classes are about to start," Hermione informed them.
"Potions, is it?" Harry asked warily.
"Yeah."
"Don't worry, Harry, we're prepared."
Severus Snape stormed into his classroom.
"You are here to learn the complex science and exact art of creating potions," he began. He spoke in no more than a whisper, but the class understood every word he said. "There will be no foolish wand-waving in my class. Many of you won't believe that potion making has anything to do with magic. I don't expect you to see the beauty of a slightly simmering cauldron and shimmering stews, the gentle power of liquids running through human veins, hexing the head and captivating the mind. I can teach you to fill glory into bottles, to brew esteem, even to stop death – as long as you aren't a big bunch of cretins, like I always seem to have in my classes."
The class remained silent after his little speech. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grinned at each other. That was a good entrance!
"Potter!" Snape barked suddenly. "What do I get if I add asphodel to wormwood?"
"The Draught of the Living Death, sir."
If Snape was surprised, he didn't show it.
"And where do I find a bezoar?"
"In the stomach of a goat, sir."
Snape was looked around at the rest of the class. "Why aren't you writing this down?" he snapped.
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other again. Yes, these lessons would be a challenge, a welcome challenge.
"This is like cooking," Harry thought as they began working on their first concoction. Harry's potion had turned the correct color, but Snape didn't bother to notice this.
"I think if he doesn't criticize you, you can think of it as praise," Ron murmured, barely audible.
Harry's mouth twitched.
"Potter – care to share the joke?" Snape snarled.
Harry swallowed, but then he had an idea. A boy at a nearby table was about to make a serious mistake with his potion, so Harry decided to help him out.
"I was wondering what would happen if you added the porcupine quills to the potion before turning off the fire, sir."
Snape didn't mention that he really had no idea what would happen. He did notice however that the Longbottom boy flinched and quickly corrected his mistake.
"That sneaky little…" Snape thought, then swept away across the room, fuming.
Harry thought that if Snape was so angry that this mistake didn't happen that it was worth trying on his own. He grabbed his notebook and wrote it down. He then turned his attention back to his friends.
"Hermione?" asked Harry.
"Yes Harry?"
"Do you think there's a possibility that Snape hates me?"
"Maybe, but you shouldn't care. Nobody likes us," Hermione pointed out.
"But we have each other," Ron added. "We don't need them."
"Damn," Harry murmured. "It's so unreal. We're eleven, buying shares on the world market and trying to control the media."
"Would you rather play with Legos instead?" Hermione asked with a smirk.
"No. Let's go to Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Yeah, we'd better get going. By the way, what's a Lego?" Ron asked.
Professor Quirrell's lesson turned out to be rubbish. His room stank of garlic; everybody said it was to keep a vampire away. His turban, he said, was a gift from a prince in Africa, for whom he had killed a zombie. When Seamus Finnigan, a Gryffindor, asked how he had killed the zombie, Quirrell blushed and started to talk about the weather. Harry was distracted throughout the entire lesson by his scar prickling. But if somebody had read his notes from the lesson, they would have found this list:
Which school did Quirrell attend? He must be somewhat competent if he graduated.
Are there princes in Africa? Is there a symbolic meaning for turbans? What other use could the turban have if the story was a lie?
Strange stuttering: P-p-p-otter vs. Pot-t-t-t-er; he can say "triumphal success" but can't say "weath-th-ther…"
What are we supposed to be learning? They would have to buy other books for independent studying.
Others must have thought there was something off about him; did anyone else ask questions?
What could smell so disgusting that he would need garlic to disguise it?
What can make curse scars hurt?
And most importantly: Am I just being paranoid?
"It appears we have a lot work to do," Hermione said after she had read Harry's list. "The stuttering was something I hadn't noticed. I just tried to ignore it."
"I tried to ignore the whole person," Ron grinned.
"Well, he isn't completely useless," Harry said. "He is going to be the first 'object' we'll watch."
Meanwhile, Severus Snape, who was walking towards the library, overhead the trio's conversation and stopped to listen.
"Object! Harry! He is not a – thing!" Granger shouted.
"Don't say he's a wonderful person who has feelings…" Potter sneered.
"But – "
"He's hurting me! My scar hurt all throughout the lesson. I flinch when he just looks at me. Why should I trust him, even if he is a teacher? I'm not saying that he is evil…yet, but I am going to watch him," Potter said, visibly forcing himself to speak calmly.
"Okay, Harry. I understand. Even Snape ("They weren't talking about me?" Snape thought) seems more trustworthy than he does. Maybe you have good reason to be paranoid. You aren't going to do something unbelievably stupid if you find out what he is up to, are you?" Granger asked.
"I – Hermione…we have already done something unbelievably stupid," Potter said.
"Do you regret it?"
"No. I don't regret anything."
"Harry! Hermione! You two sound like a trashy novel!" Weasley said. "By the way, I put another galleon on Flourish & Blotts."
"Because you want to buy more shares?" Potter asked.
"Idiot, I'm not that stupid. Today there was a report about a Nundu-attack and the Daily Prophet recommended some books to read on the subject. I want to find out how the attack will affect our investments."
Severus Snape would ponder the conversation he had heard for a long time. He was the evil one, dammit. So whom were they talking about? A year would pass before he would remember the rest of the conversation and ask Harry Potter what the unbelievably stupid thing was that he had done. Then he would ask him if he regretted it.
Somewhere in a plain house, a red-haired woman sat in front of Wizarding Wireless set. She didn't hear the broadcast though, instead she stared at the clock on the wall. 19:22:01, 19:22:02, 19:22:03, 19:22:04, 19:22:05...Yesterday, her youngest son had been sorted into Slytherin. She felt guilty. After Ginny, her sweet little Ginny, was born, Ron didn't get as much attention. Her husband had told her not to worry, Ron would turn out just fine. What was the problem if you sacrificed a few hours of your day because you wanted to be a perfect mummy? 19:22:39, 19:22:40, 19:22:41...
Somewhere deep down in the Slytherin dungeons, a blond boy sat in front of a mirror and brushed his hair. 784, 785, 786...His own mother had said that he was obsessed with his hair and vainer than even she was. What was the problem if you sacrificed a few hours of your day because you wanted to look perfect? 792, 793…
A few rooms away, a little raven-haired boy stood in front a table and practiced cutting potion ingredients. A little charm showed him how accurate his angle was. 29.8, 30.1, 30.1, 30.0, 29.9, 29.7, 30.0, 29.4 –damn-, 30.0, 30.0...Hermione had told him that he was obsessed with proving himself to Snape. What was the problem if you sacrificed a few hours of your day because you wanted to be perfect at some basic skills? 30.1, 30.0, 29.9, 30.0, 30.0...
That evening, decisions were made which led to unavoidable consequences in the future. That evening, Molly Weasley could have still sent a Howler to her son. She decided against it. She decided not to be another encumbrance on the dark path her son was now traveling down.
That evening, Draco Malfoy could have stood up to his father and not sent a report about Potter and Snape. He decided not to fight. He accepted his role as the son of a Death Eater.
That evening, Harry Potter could have changed his course. He could have talked to Dumbledore, he could have asked to be taken out of the Dursley's care, or asked why things had turned out the way they did. But he didn't. He decided to go to the library and to research why Voldemort had become the person he was.
The world stood still that evening. Then it changed direction, for the good guys, for the bad guys, and for Harry Potter.
