Chapter 8

The rest of the summer flew by for Harry. It was surprisingly a very relaxing 6 weeks now that Harry had covered all the basics for his new life and he could simply go on living it for the time being.

He had a safe house. He had gold in the bank. Lots and lots of gold. Steelclaw sent him a letter detailing the first sales of the basilisk parts and the amounts mentioned made Harry's mind swim in sheer disbelief. And he had done all he could to gentle push Tom Riddle in any direction that didn't involve mutilating his own soul and becoming a Dark Lord.

Which meant that for the first time in his life, Harry actually had a summer vacation to enjoy. While he'd still been at Hogwarts as Harry Potter, his summers were always ruined by his forced stays at the Dursleys and whatever schemes Voldemort was coming up with. Not to mention a visit from surprise dementors or Death Eaters who crashed a wedding. The point was, during his first adolescence, Harry had never really had a peaceful summer vacation.

And even as an adult, Harry hadn't really enjoyed his vacation time. He never really went on holiday, aside from one midweek trip to Ireland with Ginny that one time early on in their relationship, where they stayed in a cute little bed and breakfast and went to see the Irish national quidditch team play. But later, when Ginny left him and it became clear Harry sucked at relationships, he never really had anyone to go on holidays with. And he refused to be the third wheel during any of Ron and Hermione's holiday trips. His best friends worked hard all year. They deserved to spend some quality time together, without Harry tagging along.

Even spending a few weeks a year just simply staying at home wasn't as relaxing as it should be, thanks to Harry's fame and the ridiculous articles in the paper and the constant attention he got whenever he simply wanted to spend an afternoon wandering around Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade to do some window shopping or to enjoy a meal away from home.

No, sometime during the past few weeks Harry had come to the conclusion that the holidays he was having now were the first real vacation he'd ever had. He got to explore the Devon countryside to his heart's content, which he eagerly did. He cycled and hiked for days on end, to keep his new body in shape and build up his cardio, but also because the landscape around him was truly beautiful with rugged coastlines and rolling green hills. He got to practice whatever magic caught his fancy, which involved lots of new cooking charms these days. And he got to spend some quality time with his new family every evening while he played chess with Martin or checkers with Evelyn.

Harry sent letters to all his siblings, and received eager replies in return. He also spent a lot of hours in the Hubbles' kitchen garden, using lots of spells he found in his gardening book to keep pests at bay and to improve growth. By the end of the holidays, the vegetable garden was producing much better than it had in years, and Harry consulted Mrs Ashford often to learn how to put up vegetables and store them for the winter. And even though Harry would spend most of the coming months at Hogwarts, getting fed by lots of eager house-elves, he was very happy to know his family would have plenty to eat as well back home.

Harry had mixed feelings about returning to Hogwarts, though. On the one hand he was eager to experience the school as an anonymous muggleborn instead of the Boy Who Lived. On the other hand he would be stuck 'learning' things he already knew for months on end.

And Harriet Hubble's life at Hogwarts had, in one word, sucked. She had no friends. She'd been bullied relentlessly. And she'd been sexually assaulted by that monster Mulciber.

Harry had plans for Mulciber, so that asshole didn't worry him.

What did worry him was being all alone in Hogwarts. In his previous life, he'd always had Ron and Hermione. Whatever happened, he had his friends.

Now, he had no one at school, and Harry vowed to rectify that at once.

Ironically, the first friend Harry had made in his new life so far was Tom Riddle, his once prophesized enemy. Riddle sent him a few very entertaining letters, but due to the huge distances involved, those letters didn't arrive until at least a week after they'd been sent, even with using express post which Riddle always did. Harry sent him some letters in return, but knew those faced the same problem, so he made it clear to Riddle in his final letter, two weeks before Hogwarts would start up again, that no more letters would follow and they'd simply had to catch up in person.

So, Harry had one friend going for him, however unlikely of a choice Riddle turned out to be. But Riddle had problematic friends of his own and was sorted in a different house, and he'd be a Prefect for the coming year, so Harry had no idea how much time they would be able to spend together while they were at Hogwarts. Which meant that Harry needed to make friends in his own house.

The best candidate for that was Myrtle Warren, Harriet's muggleborn roommate. During their first year, one might have expected the two Ravenclaw muggleborn students to become fast friends, but their first night in their dormitory, Olive Hornby with her two stooges Patricia Adkins and Daisy Corner had relentlessly made fun of poor Myrtle for her glasses and her hair and her general muggleness.

Harriet had been the type of quiet girl who avoided confrontation at any cost and she'd decided there and then to avoid drawing Olive's attention no matter what, even if that meant leaving Myrtle to fend for herself. It had worked for a little while, until after a few months Olive and her stooges had started bullying Harriet as well

Harriet had very little confidence in herself and in the world around her, and Harry blamed her parents for that. Evelyn and Martin hadn't been bad parents, not really. They'd certainly never physically hurt Harriet or starved her or locked her in a cupboard. But they had been absent parents. Harriet was a bit of a surprise latecomer, and Harry got the impression that her parents hadn't counted on having to raise another baby once they were done with the first three. Harriet's grandmother had helped out with that after she moved in with them, and while Harriet's grandmother had cared deeply for her youngest grandchild and did her best raising her while Martin and Evelyn manned the doctor's practice, Harriet's grandmother had been a woman full of very old-fashioned ideas.

One of them being that women didn't need an education other than learning how to cook, clean and make and raise babies. Every time Harriet, who was a smart and curious girl, had made it clear she wanted to learn much more than that she'd been relentlessly shot down by her grandmother, which utterly devastated her self-esteem. So much so that by the time Harriet went to Hogwarts she had no idea how to stand up for herself or how to make friends.

Harry's heart ached thinking about poor Harriet's unfortunate upbringing and how much that had hindered her during her adolescence. Well, Harry vowed to change all that. And the first thing he was going to do was befriend Myrtle and offer her the ancestor potion. He was sure Myrtle would be eager to learn who her magical ancestors were. And secondly, Harry was going to put Olive, Patricia and Daisy in their place at the first opportunity, and he'd continue to do so until they stopped their constant bullying of others.

From there he'd see who else in their year might want to start up a friendship. There were a few Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students who had potential.

Before, Harry doubted anyone even knew who Harriet Hubble was, as Riddle had so hilariously demonstrated once Harry revealed himself in the bookstore. But now Harry's face had been in the Daily Prophet, thanks to Fleamont Potter.

Fleamont was a contemporary of Ruby Baird, a reporter for the Prophet. Thankfully, Ruby was not nearly as ambitious as Rita Skeeter had been, nor as creative with the truth. Baird was a half-blood herself, the product of a muggleborn father and a pureblood mother, and she'd happily taken the ancestor potion to see if her muggleborn father was a squib descendant himself. Which he turned out to be as the potion revealed the name Connor Mcgowan six generations back. The Mcgowans were an old pureblood family whose family name had been lost over the years, unfortunately. It was therefore quite exciting to find a distant descendant from such a family still alive and continuing the line with two young children of her own.

This discovery had ensured the article about Harry, Fleamont and the ancestor potion had moved from a potential small general interest piece on page 3 or 4 to the front page with a nice, fat headline announcing the rediscovery of an ancestor potion.

Plenty of students would have seen that article, which might make it easier for them to remember Harriet Hubble from now on. Harry still wanted very much to remain in the shadows and not draw too much attention to himself, but on the other hand, he also wanted to create a social circle for himself.

Because while Harry had enjoyed the summer holidays immensely, the only thing that had been missing were his friends. And since his old friends were well out of his reach right now, that meant Harry needed to put some effort into making new ones, simple as that.

Fleamont and Euphemia took Harry shopping for his school supplies, since they could easily apparate him instead of Harry having to spend half a day travelling to London by train. Harry learned that his once grandparents were kind and decent people who were genuinely happy to add to their family. Harry knew of course that Fleamont and Euphemia were desperate for a child of their own, but that James wouldn't be born for another 15 years or so. Perhaps that is why they were so eager to treat Harry as the child they didn't yet have.

Harry used Fleamont's generosity of insisting he pay for her supplies that year as an excuse to tell his parents he'd gotten an owl from his newly discovered family and he was finally able to introduce Holly to Martin and Evelyn. Martin seemed a bit wary of having an owl in the house, but Evelyn proved much braver than her husband and admired Holly while even daring to stroke her feathers.

And then September rolled around and Harry got up early to make sure he'd packed everything. He'd already locked down Murder Cottage for the rest of the year and he'd sent Holly ahead to Scotland the previous day. Evelyn made him a festive breakfast of fried eggs and ham and some buttered slices of bread on the side. Harry ate it all, and accepted the corned beef sandwiches Evelyn wrapped in wax paper for lunch on the train.

A knock on the door announced Harry's transportation.

"We've sold 15 vials of ancestor potion already," Fleamont said with a beaming smile once Harry opened the front door for him.

"Honestly," Euphemia said, rolling her eyes at her husband before smiling at Harry. "Harriet, dear, are you ready for a new schoolyear?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry said with a chuckle and then grinned at Fleamont. "I'm glad to hear people are interested in the potion. I wonder which families may have discovered some new distant relatives."

"So am I," Fleamont agreed at once. "Ah, hello, Evelyn. How are you?"

"Busy as always. A pleasure to see you again, Fleamont, Euphemia." Evelyn turned to Harry and stroked a warm hand down Harry's cheek. "Be a good girl, darling and work hard. We'll see you for Christmas." And then Evelyn pressed a quick kiss to Harry's cheek and with a final goodbye she disappeared into the doctor's practice.

Harry had to swallow a few times before he could look at his once grandparents again. This was the first time he'd ever experienced his parents saying goodbye to him when he was off to Hogwarts and no matter that Harry was a grown man on the inside, having a loving mother saying goodbye to you was a moment to treasure for a man who'd grown up an orphan.

Euphemia gave Harry a knowing smile while Fleamont looked around the hallway. "Where's your trunk?"

"Shrunken down and in my bag," Harry said, picking up his leather bookbag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. "I'm ready if you are."

"Hold on tight, dear girl." Fleamont gently grabbed Harry's arm and one tight squeeze later they stood on the train platform's apparition point. Euphemia joined them moments later. Harry realized he'd never had family on the train platform before to see him off to school. Sure, the Weasleys had been there a time or two, but no matter how much Harry loved them, they weren't Harry's family. Fleamont and Euphemia were, in his last life and his new one, and that gave Harry a bit of a lump in his throat all over again.

"If anything happens, owl us," Euphemia said while she brushed her hands across Harry's shoulders and arms. "We can be there instantly and alert your parents as needed."

"You're family now, dear girl," Fleamont agreed with a firm nod. He gave Harry a quick pat on his shoulder. "And we Potters take family very seriously, remember that."

"Thank you," Harry said with genuine gratitude, still feeling a little choked up. He could barely meet their eyes for fear of bursting into tears. Instead, Harry ducked his head and blinked rapidly and said goodbye to the only magical family he'd ever known.

Once on the Hogwarts Express, which looked exactly like Harry remembered it, Harry kept an eye out for Riddle. Perhaps if he could find Riddle before his Slytherin friends did he could catch up and hear more of Riddle's obviously exciting travels through Africa. So far Harry knew Riddle had spent time in Tanganyika, which didn't ring any bells with Harry when he first came across the name. Then he gave it some thought and realized that lots of names of African countries had changed over the last century due to all sorts of colonialism and countries returning to native rule. So if Harry had to take a guess, Tanganyika was probably modern day Tanzania. Last Harry knew Riddle had been on his way to South Africa, but due to the distances involved he hadn't received any letters since.

But as Harry walked through the familiar corridors beside the rows of compartments, a little overwhelmed by a huge rush of nostalgia, he didn't see Riddle. He did see Theodorus Nott, Orion Black and Abraxas Malfoy together in a compartment but he quickly rushed past it. He wasn't looking for any confrontations on the Hogwarts Express.

Eventually he came across a compartment that held Myrtle Warren and two Gryffindor muggleborns in their year named Annabel Webster and Lukas Croft. Harry knocked on the door before opening it and slipping inside the compartment.

"Mind if I join you?" Harry asked and he was quickly met by a few whispered words of welcome. None of the students gathered there were bursting with confidence, it seemed. Harry sat down next to Myrtle and gave her a quick little smile, which seemed to baffle Myrtle more than anything else. Harry had to remind himself, again, that Harriet had never been a social butterfly and instead always kept to herself, so Harry couldn't go all out with his Gryffindor personality just yet. Best to gradually get people used to a more social and confident Harriet Hubble.

Harry pulled his wand out of the holster he'd bought for himself weeks ago and cast a silent privacy ward and notice-me-not charm on their door. When he tucked his wand away again he noticed Myrtle staring at him in curiosity.

"It'll keep people like Olive out," Harry explained with a knowing smile, and he chuckled when Myrtle's eyes widened in alarm just at the sound of that name. Yeah, Olive and her stooges were in for some real surprises that year.

Annabel and Lukas were having a whispered conversation about their holidays while Myrtle had a muggle book lying on her lap titled 'Death At The Bar'. It seemed to be a mystery and crime novel, from what Harry could tell. Harry pulled a small book on advanced runes used in enchanting out of his own bag and opened it, focusing his attention on it instead of forcing conversation right from the start. Let everyone relax a little in their own way first.

Harry had returned to the second-hand bookshop a few times more over the summer, but he never did find a book pensieves. So eventually he'd caved and visited Flourish and Blotts and found a brand-new book on enchanting that detailed how to build a pensieve.

Which turned out to be horrendously complicated magic that went way over Harry's head, even though he had gotten NEWTs in runes and arithmancy as an adult in his previous life. But creating a pensieve required extensive knowledge of enchanting, which was one step up even from a Mastery in charms. So Harry had plenty to study over the coming years, which was a very good thing because Hogwarts' curriculum would probably bore him to death sooner rather than later. Thankfully Harry didn't need his pensieve until he was ready to start his potions empire so he had a few years yet to become an expert in enchanting.

The train rolled out of the station without any delay, and for an hour or two everything was quiet in their compartment. Until finally, when Harry finished his book and tucked it back into his bag, Annabel cleared her throat and gave Harry a curious look.

"We saw the article in the Daily Prophet. Does that ancestor potion really work?" Annabel asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Yes! Harry wanted to do a little victory dance that his gamble on people being curious about the article had paid off, but he controlled himself and instead offered Annabel a bright smile. "It most certainly does. Would you like to see my family tree?"

All three of Harry's classmates immediately nodded their heads and Harry chuckled as he reached inside his bag and pulled out the sheet of parchment he'd brought with him just for such an occasion.

"Here's my connection to the Potters," Harry said, holding out the parchment between them. "The Graves are a pureblood family that immigrated to the Americas at some point. They produce a lot of Aurors, I believe. And the Feborgs are a Swedish family. Related to Arvid Feborg, a Dark Lord from the 1700s, apparently."

Myrtle looked at him with wide eyes. "You're related to a Dark Lord?" she asked in a voice filled with disbelief.

"Yeah, I could hardly believe it myself," Harry said with a simple shrug.

Annabel shared a loaded look with Lukas. "It makes you wonder who we could be related to, doesn't it?"

"If you want to know, I brought some potion with me," Harry offered, much to the others' surprise. "I made much more than I needed and figured I might as well share what I have left, since you only really need to use the potion once."

"I'd be happy to try," Lukas said at once, though he did look a little dubiously at Harry. "What should I do exactly?"

Harry got out a fresh sheet of parchment and placed it on the floor between them before handing a vial of ancestor potion to Lukas. "Add seven drops of blood to it and then pour it out over the parchment. After ten minutes we'll know who your squib ancestors are."

Lukas did as he was told, making a very small cut on his finger with his wand which Harry healed for him once he added enough blood to the potion. Before long they discovered Lukas' magical ancestors.

"You're related to the Blacks?" Harry said in honest surprise. The first name, four generations above Lukas' mother, was Corvus Black. The second name, six generations above Lukas' father was Pedro Cruz. "That sounds Spanish perhaps," Harry suggested.

Lukas picked up the parchment and stared at it in absolute astonishment. "I'm related to the Black family?" He shared a look filled with disbelief with Annabel.

"Do you have more potion?" Annabel asked eagerly, and Harry got her sorted with her own sheet of parchment right away. Annabel's magical ancestors were Khadija Valentine and Virgil Cartwright.

"The Cartwrights are an old family, but I'm unfamiliar with the name Valentine," Harry said, giving Annabel an encouraging smile. "Might be worth it to research its origins." Annabel gave him a nod and a glowing smile in return.

Next was Myrtle, who kept chewing on her lip and pushing her glasses up her nose as they waited for the potion to start showing names. The first name it revealed was Jacqueline Beauchamp.

"Definitely French," Myrtle said, looking intrigued by that revelation.

The next name that appeared, four generations above Myrtle's mother, was Gwion Gaunt.

"Fucking hell," Harry muttered before he could stop himself. Riddle had actually murdered his own distant cousin, one of the last remaining family members he had, and he never even knew it.

"What?" Myrtle asked, looking at Harry in alarm. "Why is that name bad?"

"Not bad," Harry quickly assured her and then he frowned. "Well, not really. The Gaunts are actually descendants of Salazar Slytherin, but they took that whole pureblood supremacy thing to a whole other level by exclusively marrying their first cousins and siblings."

Myrtle stared at him with her mouth opened, eyes wide behind her huge glasses.

Harry gestured at her to calm down. "They produced a lot of squibs over the years, so it makes sense for there to be a few of their squib descendants out there."

"There's more?" Annabel asked curiously.

Harry looked between everyone and then gave Myrtle an enormous grin. "Guess who you are related to. He attends Hogwarts with us."

"Ben Bishop?" Lukas guessed when no one else uttered a sound. "He's a muggleborn from Hufflepuff. I often partner with him in Care for Magical Creatures."

"Nope," Harry said, genuinely amused by this very unexpected revelation. "Guess again." But alas, Myrtle seemed much too shocked by everything so far to even speak, and Annabel had taken to chewing her thumbnail and didn't seem capable of suggestions either.

"Fine," Harry said, and then leaned a little closer to Myrtle. "Take a deep breath and hold on tight, because you are related to Tom Riddle."

Myrtle actually squeaked and went very pale while her cheeks flushed red.

"Wow," Annabel said as she pressed both hands to her mouth in shock. "Wow."

Even Lukas looked impressed by that bit of news, and it reminded Harry that during that time Riddle really was something of a rockstar at Hogwarts. Everyone knew him and seemingly admired him.

"You're having me on," Myrtle finally muttered, voice wavering while she gave Harry a pleading look. "This isn't true. You're just playing a horrible prank."

"I promise you it's true, Myrtle." Harry gave Myrtle his most trustworthy smile. "I tested Riddle myself this summer. I know for a fact he's related to the Gaunts."

"Really?" Myrtle asked, still looking terribly unsure. "I have magical family?"

Harry swallowed and briefly pursed his lips as he understood Myrtle's reluctance to believe she had magical people out there who were related to her. It had been an emotional journey for Harry as well, to connect with a whole new side of his family. Which reminded him of something he should probably check. "Myrtle, have you ever talked to a snake?"

Myrtle shuddered and then looked at Harry in disgust. "Talk to a snake? Why would I do such a thing? They scare me."

Harry frowned and tried to think of a way to find out if Myrtle might be a parselmouth. "Not even in your childhood? Maybe when you found a snake in the wilds or something?"

Myrtle fervently shook her head. "I'm from Birmingham. We don't get many snakes, I don't think."

"I could conjure one," Harry started, but he was immediately interrupted by Annabel.

"Don't you dare," Annabel snapped, glaring at him with all her might.

Harry quickly held up both hands, admitting defeat. He'd have to figure out a different way to see if Myrtle was a parselmouth. He could always speak parseltongue to her, but he didn't want to give away his own talents just yet. Anyway, it hardly mattered for now.

Lukas' stomach made it apparent that it was lunchtime by growling loudly, and they all tucked their parchment away and got out their packed lunches.

"I have a few more vials of ancestor potion left," Harry said as he unwrapped his corned beef sandwiches. "If you know any more muggleborns who'd like to figure out their ancestry, just send them my way."

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was pleasant enough, as they talked about all sorts of subjects. They briefly discussed the war happening everywhere. Annabel had an older brother who had joined the RAF as a mechanic who worked on their airplanes, and Lukas' father worked at the muggle ministry for the Home Office. Myrtle had a younger brother, who wasn't magical, and her father was a factory manager. She told them that they used to make silverware and other household goods, but that nowadays they produced parts for guns and vehicles for the war.

Both Annabel and Lukas turned out to be huge quidditch enthusiasts, with Lukas hoping to try out of the Gryffindor team that year, since they were in need of two new chasers since they old ones had finished Hogwarts the previous year. Annabel wasn't interested in playing, since she was a bit afraid of heights, but she enjoyed keeping up with the national quidditch league. Harry had to tone down his own enthusiasm for the sport since Harriet hadn't cared two knuts about it, but he figured he might learn to appreciate the sport when hanging out with Annabel and Lukas in the future.

While they got off the train, Harry kept an eye out for Riddle but couldn't see him anywhere. He did spot a very young Hagrid wading through the crowd, already much taller than anyone else. Which reminded him that Hagrid was smuggling a fucking acromantula into the castle, which Harry's inner adult fiercely objected to. Acromantula were man-eating spiders. They had no business living inside a school. Perhaps Harry could simply do away with the fucking thing entirely without getting Hagrid expelled.

They rode in the carriages and made it to the castle without any delays and still Harry couldn't spot Riddle, who was quite tall himself and should have been easy to spot in the crowd. Even as they all sat down at their house tables, Riddle was nowhere to be seen. Riddle's Slytherin friends were all there, including Konrad Mulciber, but Harry ignored him for now. He had plans for Mulciber which would be put into motion in the coming days. For now Harry was getting genuinely worried that Riddle might have been eaten by a bunch of opportunistic lions or something.

Dumbledore led a whole procession of tiny first-years inside the Great Hall.

Ah, Dumbledore. Harry had very mixed feelings about that man, which was probably the reason why he hadn't even considered going to the man to tell him all he knew about the future or something silly like that.

Look, Harry was an Auror. He was an adult in a dangerous job who often had to make difficult decisions. He understood that Dumbledore had been a general directing troops where they would best serve the war effort and increase their chances of victory. Harry understood perfectly that Dumbledore had needed to make sacrifices, Harry included.

But the older Harry got, the more he realized that Dumbledore had also been horribly negligent when it came to his pawns. Perhaps it really had been necessary for Harry to grow up with the Dursleys for all of their protection. Why couldn't someone have checked up on Harry a few times throughout his childhood, to make sure he wasn't being starved inside a cupboard under the stairs? And why had Dumbledore never pushed for a trial for Sirius at any point in time? And why hadn't he interfered when Umbridge was carving up students left and right?

The list of complaints Harry had when it came to Albus Dumbledore was growing the older he got, and that is why Harry had no intention of trusting the man with any of his secrets. And why should he? By the way things were going, Riddle might very well not turn into a Dark Lord anytime soon, which meant that Dumbledore didn't need to know what future wouldn't be coming to pass.

And thus Harry ignored his former mentor and focuses on the sorting while he tried not to worry about the possibility of Riddle having become hyena dinner. Right after the sorting, Dumbledore disappeared through a side door, but Dippet welcomed them all to a new year at Hogwarts and soon enough the tables were filled with food and everyone loaded up their plates while conversation erupted around them.

By the time most people were almost done eating the main courses, the door to the Great Hall burst open and Tom Riddle stalked in.

A hush fell over the hall as everyone stared at the man who had changed significantly. Slughorn even dropped his fork with a clatter, face full of shock and disbelief.

Because somehow, over the last summer, Riddle had gone from gangly teenager to young man, complete with a hint of stubble on his jaw. His skin was tanned to an attractive bronze and his black hair was long and tousled. Riddle wore khaki clothing which was ripped in some places, and which strained just a bit around his broad shoulders.

Harry couldn't help himself. He stared just as much as everyone else, because fucking hell. He'd thought Riddle attractive before, but he'd been wrong. This was the most attractive he'd ever seen Riddle and for some reason it awakened Harry's libido, which had been more than happy to slumber throughout the whole summer. But seeing Riddle like this did things to Harry's body which started throbbing in whole new places.

"I do apologize for my tardiness," Riddle said loudly with a disarming grin as he reached the Slytherin table. "We were delayed in Cairo's portkey station. An impundulu got loose and when we finally caught her the officials wanted to have a word." Riddle released an amused chuckle and Slughorn finally remembered how to breathe while he rose to his feet.

"Welcome back, Tom. You were very much missed already. Everyone was commenting on your absence." Slughorn gestured at the students to resume eating while Riddle sat down with his friends and quickly spooned a few things onto his plate before the food would disappear to make way for dessert.

Harry finally remembered he wasn't done eating yet either and he returned his attention to his own plate.

"Are you sure I'm related to him?" Myrtle asked in a harsh whisper as she leaned closer to Harry.

"Yep," Harry said, some of the shock at seeing Riddle at his hottest dissipating, thankfully. "Distantly."

Myrtle absently moved a roasted potato around on her plate as she stared at Riddle in disbelief. Harry sympathized. He, too, wanted nothing better than to stare at his once prophesized enemy, but he managed to mostly focus on other things.

By the time dinner was over everyone seemed to have gotten over the shock of seeing Riddle at his hottest yet. Or perhaps people were just getting too tired to keep up their stares and were in need of their beds. Harry certainly felt exhausted and he was happy to trail after the horde of Ravenclaws up to Ravenclaw tower. He and Myrtle didn't linger in the common room but made their way to bed immediately. Harry knew from Harriet's memories that Rosemary Driscoll, their Head of House, always held a house meeting the evening of September 2nd.

Unfortunately they weren't the only ones deciding to head up to their dormitories. Not a minute after Harry and Myrtle entered their dorms, Olive and her stooges arrived.

"If it isn't the two mudbloods," Patricia Atkins said with a sneer as they trooped inside the dorms.

Yeah, Harry was putting an end to that at once. Before anyone could say anything else, Harry had his wand in his hand and cast a curse at Atkins, which did away with her mouth entirely but left a smooth patch of skin in its place. Patricia's eyes widening while she produced something of a muffled scream. Before Olive or Daisy could respond, Harry cast the same curse at them and then crossed his arms while he glared at his bullying roommates.

"My aunt works at the ministry, and she's taught me a few things over the summer," Harry said while he looked from one girl to the next. "Most importantly, how to stand up for myself. But also how to curse those who call me and my friend foul names." Harry gave the terrified girls opposite him a confident smirk. "Here's how it's going to be from now on. You call me or Myrtle names? I curse you. You bully us? I curse you. You steal or damage our belongings? I curse you. Are you getting the picture yet?"

Patricia nodded wildly while Olive narrowed her eyes for a second before also nodding.

"Good. If you try to get us into trouble with Driscoll or Dumbledore, I will happily show them my memories of every single instance you have bullied us over the past four years, is that understood?" Harry raised his wand at the girls, but before he cast the counter curse he said, "As long as you leave us alone, I'll leave you alone. But if you think you can continue to use us to deal with your own emotional shortcomings, you will be in for a few very nasty surprises, I promise you that."

And then Harry gave them their mouths back and walked nonchalantly into the bathroom to brush his teeth, glad to have gotten the message across so early on. He wasn't planning on showing off his magical talents at cursing others in public anytime soon, but he had no problem using a few creative curses in the privacy of their dormitory.

When Harry stepped out of the bathroom again to go to bed, he was confronted with Olive's tits. Beside Olive, Daisy pulled off her bra and now there were two sets of breasts on display.

Underage breasts, even.

Fucking hell, Harry really hadn't thought this through, had he? He'd completely forgotten he'd have to spend his nights in a girl's dormitory. For the next three years. While his body was still quietly throbbing from Riddle's unexpected extra hotness.

Harry was going to have a very frustrating couple of years, he was sure of it. Could girls even get blue balls? Was that even a thing for them? Harry was sure it was, because it was the only explanation of what his female body was going through at that very frustrated moment.

When Patricia also started tugging her bra off, Harry did the only thing he could think of, and fled back into the bathroom.