Chapter 4: The Power of Nine and Three Quarters
Geronimo!
"Bye, guys," Harry called out, waving.
"Don't forget, you've got to come visit us sometimes!" Remus added.
"We've always got firewhiskey ready!" Sirius beamed, and Harry snorted.
"This is always a bit odd," Amy mused, smiling and waving back at the wizards. "You spend time with them and then you remember they're old enough to be your dad."
"Believe me, I get it all the time. My husband's a millennium out of my age range and I set up my own parents." River shrugged, closing the door of the TARDIS. "You'll get used to it."
"Maybe you will," Rory sighed, "But Amy and I are fully human. You're 50% time machine."
"You flatter me, Daddy dear," River beamed.
"Back home?" the Doctor asked, and to a series of nods, he skidded over to the control panel, flipping levers and pulling buttons. "Alright then! Geronimo!"
Harry, Sirius and Remus watched the police box dematerialize from their backyard, Harry waving eagerly until it was completely gone. When his hand finally fell to his side, Sirius turned to the others.
"Well, first things first, now they're gone, we can switch the sugar and salt cellars in their house around."
"Padfoot," Remus sighed, "Everyone on the street thinks they're travellers, and they're right, in a way. Don't you think they'll get a bit puzzled if we wander on into their house?"
"We could be house-sitting," Harry pointed out. "Let's do it."
Rory stirred the tea, raised the cup to his lips, took a sip, and sprayed tea all over his wife.
"Rory!" Amy cried, as Brain watched on in amusement. "What are you doing?"
Rory coughed once, then spat out the remaining tea back into his cup. "Salt," he groaned. "Dammit, Sirius!"
"What are you talking about?" Brian asked. "You've always had the salt and sugar in the wrong places."
"From your perspective," Rory sighed. "We've got to take you time travelling one day. Take you to the kid rather than the kid to you."
"The Doctor reckons it permanently alters the way you see things," Amy added, touching a finger to the granular substance in the sugar dish and licking it. "Ugh, it is salt."
"So," Brian asked, "How is my grandson?"
"Isn't he your great nephew?" Amy asked.
"As far as I'm concerned, he's my grandson. I already had a granddaughter, now I have a set," Brian informed them. "So, how is he?"
"Well enough to switch the salt and sugar around in the house," Rory grumbled. "I should have known Sirius was up to something when he suggested stocking full sacks of the stuff."
"So, that's done," Sirius beamed, brushing sugar off his hands and onto the floor. "Excited for Hogwarts, Harry?"
"Yeah!" Harry exclaimed. "I can't wait. It's so big, there're so many people…"
"You'll have to watch out for a few people," Remus warned. "You remember them?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, nodding furiously. "The Headmaster, because he might try to re-home me, the Potions Teacher, because he didn't like any of you except mum, and the blonde guy you were screaming at down the alley, because he's a governor and also a Death Eater."
"Good." Sirius nodded back as they set off back to their own home. "Now, you're leaving tomorrow morning, but there's a few things we're going to have to clear up first…"
"What?" Harry asked. "I thought we got everything when we went down to Diagon Alley?"
"Not quite," Remus said dryly. "Padfoot got a little sidetracked, didn't he?"
"Hey!" Sirius clutched his heart in mock-offense. "I hadn't seen Lucy in YEARS!"
"You hate him," Remus said flatly.
"All the better to annoy him," Sirius declared. "I wonder what the kid's like? Little git, no doubt…"
"Sirius," Remus sighed, "At least wait until second year before you start plugging biases into Harry's head."
"Hell no!" Sirius shook his head firmly. "There is no way Harry's making friend with any Malfoy spawn."
"It'd annoy Lucius, wouldn't it?" Remus asked. "So leave it to chance. It probably won't happen anyway."
"If you say so, Moony," Sirius said suspiciously. "But if those ponces try anything with my godson, we're sending them to Midnight."
"Whatever you say, Pads," Remus sighed.
"I'm hungry," Harry complained.
Harry's two uncle/father figures made him wait until they'd sorted something out with the goblins ("You're not sicking candy up into the bank, Cub,") and made it back to the Leaky before they could eat. Harry was unamused, glaring at both of them from beneath his hat while she stuffed shepherd's pie into his mouth.
"Don't pout," Sirius grumbled. "If I'm not allowed to eat jellybeans for lunch, you're not."
"It's not filling," Remus sighed. "This is a growing child, Sirius. And you're too old to be eating so much sugar."
"OLD?" Sirius yelped. "I'm in the prime of my life, thank you very much!"
"Of course you are," Remus said, patting Sirius's hand consolingly.
"Ew," Harry grumbled. "Don't get mushy."
"We will if you don't start on your vegetables," Remus threatened.
"Kid," Sirius said, "Don't start on your vegetables."
Harry defiantly shoved a piece of broccoli into his mouth, before realising he'd been worked into a corner and pouting, a sight made interesting by the fact his mouth was full of food.
"Anything to drink?" Tom the barman asked, coming by with a stack of freshly-dried cups. "Or will the food be alright?"
"Just food's fine," Sirius assured him, for the barman still looked a little nervy. "Kid's enjoying it."
"I don't like broccoli," Harry whined, though he ate another piece just the same.
"He yours?" Tom asked, setting down the cups.
"Basically," Sirius said.
"Legally," Harry added.
"Yes, he's ours," Remus sighed. "We have to share him with his other relations, though."
"Oh? Those the people who came with you last time? Rowdy bunch. Y' left with more than you came in with, y'know."
"Uncle Doctor and Crazy Aunt River are a bit like that," Harry commented.
Tom raised his eyebrows at the two grown-ups, both of whom shrugged. "So," he asked, "Hogwarts age, I guess?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said, halfway through stuffing an oversized forkful into his mouth. "That's why everyone came, to see me off."
"And there's no way Aunt Amy and Uncle Rory would let him go without seeing what all this wizarding stuff was all about."
"Muggles?" Tom frowned slightly. "Bit dangerous, innit? Statue of Secrecy and all that?"
"I'm the kid's godfather, Amy and River are his mother's cousins. A bit far, but his father was an only child and his mother's sister is as close to the witch trials as you get in this day and age," Sirius explained. "They already knew, anyway. We share custody."
"Oh, I see," Tom nodded. "Yes, a lot of children were orphaned in the war. Crying shame. What's your name, kid?"
Harry looked do Sirius and then Remus for approval. When they both nodded, he shot the barman a cheeky grin (thankfully absent of food) and pushed his hat up a little. "Harry Potter, sir. Nice t' meet you."
Tom's eyes widened amusingly, and he might have yelled something for the whole store to see had Sirius not made a 'shh' gesture. "We're trying to keep the papers away from him as long as we can," he whispered. "You've seen the books, haven't you? It's all going to blow up when he goes to Hogwarts, so it doesn't matter so much now, but don't have the whole bar mob him, or Moony will flay you alive."
Tom blinked in confusion. Remus was wearing a cardigan, for one thing.
"I know he looks innocent, and he did name our pot plants," Harry piped up, "But he's a mama bear."
"I'm not," Remus grumbled. "I'm just protective of the child of my best friends."
"Like Harry said, he's the mum," Sirius said cheerfully.
"I'm going to kill you," Remus growled.
"If you killed me, how would you make Harry horribly uncomfortable?" Sirius asked smugly. "You can't kiss the cat at inopportune times, can you? You need Padfoot."
"I'd persuade River to share the Doctor."
"EWW!" Harry cried. "NO!"
"See? Already works."
Tom decided the Potter family was insane.
"Send Hedwig," Remus instructed Harry. "Even if we're off doing something, we should be able to answer your letters."
"It's a shame technology doesn't work at Hogwarts," Harry sighed. "I could call you."
"I'm sure the Doctor will end up figuring something out for you," Sirius commented. "He always does."
"In any case," Remus said, "Write to us. We're going to miss having you around, Prongslet."
"Yes, Uncle Moony," Harry huffed. "I know."
"C'mon, don't smother him too much," Sirius grinned. "You're going to Hogwarts, Harry! Got everything? Trunk? Owl? Spare pants?"
"Yes, yes, what?"
"Always bring spare pants," Sirius told him. "They're a great asset. You might run out of pants, for example, or you might need to use them for a quick getaway – remember that time when you were nine?"
"I've got plenty of pants, Da," Harry grumbled. "Honestly, you're embarrassing."
"Sorry, Pup. Should I go hug Lucy to make it up to you?"
Harry considered the man standing on the opposite end of the platform. "Nah. Best do so when I come home. Might be funnier."
"Right you are," Sirius grinned cheerfully, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Off you go, then!"
"We'll see you at Christmastime," Remus smiled, pulling Harry into a hug. "Try not to spend your entire life in detention, right?"
"But – he has a record to beat!" Sirius exclaimed.
Remus shot him a half amused, half stern look. "Don't spend your life in detention. Don't fall down a secret passageway and break your neck. Come to think of it, watch out for the stairs… Don't let the Professors see what's in your trunk, okay?"
"Got it," Harry said. "Christmastime, then. Bye!" He grabbed his trunk and started tottering off towards the train door.
"Bye, Pup! We love you!" Sirius called after him.
Harry flushed. "Da!"
Sirius turned gleefully to Remus. "What say I bring a megaphone when he's a teenager?"
Remus just shook his head in exasperation. "I'm going to end up helping you charm it, aren't I?"
"Of course, Moony!"
"Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full. Or – well. Occupied, at least."
Harry glanced up. "Sure."
The freckly redhead shot him a swift grin and sat down opposite him, shoving his battered trunk under his seat in lieu of trying to stuff it into the overhead racks. "Thanks."
"Any time," Harry replied breezily, turning the page in his notebook and noting down some numbers off the newspaper.
"What're you doing?" the redhead asked after a moment, eyeing Harry's book with some trepidation. "Working already? Or are you not a first year? Only – you're the right size, aren't you?"
"Oh, I'm a first year," Harry said absently, jotting down a few numbers and circling the final one. "This is Quidditch results. Moony and Rory said I had to learn math, so they make me run the numbers on the sports results. It's not too bad, actually. Bit finicky, but pretty good if you ever want to make any bets."
"Oh." The redhead sounded a little relieved, absently rubbing a patch on dirt on his long nose. "Quidditch, then? What's your team?"
"Puddlemere United," Harry replied. "You?"
"Cannons," the redhead cheered.
Harry glanced down at his book. The Cannons were 9th in the league – not exactly terrible, but firmly in the bottom half. Before he could say anything, though, the door to the compartment slipped open a crack and two more redheads, an identical pair, stuck their heads in.
"Hey, Ronniekins."
"Just wanted to tell you –"
"—we're going down the –"
"—other end of the train. Lee's got –"
"—a giant tarantula down there."
'Ronniekins' shuddered. "Right."
The twins appeared to be about to retreat when the one whose head was on the top caught sight of Harry. "Well, hello there, ickle firstie."
"Sitting with Ron here, are you?"
"Watch out, he snores."
"Hey!" Ron's ears turned pink, Harry noted with slight amusement.
"Just the truth, Ronniekins," Twin On Top declared.
"What's your name, anyway?" the other asked, looking back at Harry.
"Harry Potter," Harry told them.
Ron blinked. "You're Harry Potter?"
"Well," Harry said airily, "We considered changing it, you know, to Harry Potter-Black-Lupin-Pond-Williams-Song-Smith, but it was too long, and Uncle Siri said if we gave McGonagall a heart attack there'd be nobody to defend us from Snape. So we kept it short."
"True, that," Twin On Top mused.
"Anyway, we are George –"
"—and Fred –"
"—Weasley, at your service," they said, finishing together. "And this is our brother Ron."
For lack of anything better to say, Harry replied with a simple, "Hi."
"Anyway, we've got a tarantula to find," Fred declared.
"Right you are, my dear man. We'll see you at Hogwarts – hopefully in Gryffindor," George grinned. "Toodle-pip!"
The compartment door closed with a sharp click and two sets of footsteps echoed out of hearing range down the train.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron asked, in a rush.
"Sure," Harry shrugged. "Someone's got to be."
Ron squinted at him for a moment. "I kind of expected you to be a bit bigger."
Harry snorted. "And that, my dear Ron, is why I spent 10 years hiding from the press. Honestly, I was one. I could have turned out really ugly. But no, let's write speculative stories on how he's doing. All I know is I look like my dad with my mum's eyes – and hands, apparently, though that's a little questionable…"
"Oh," Ron said, and there was an awkward silence that eventually had to be broken by a knock on the compartment door.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" It was an old woman pushing a cart covered in food. Harry jumped up, while Ron sunk down into his seat, muttering about already having food. Harry was not entirely stupid, though, so he bought extra and, once the trolley lady left, set about bullying Ron into accepting some. As he expected, it didn't take too long – eleven-year-olds really didn't have too much self-control. His own gum-chewing habits were a testament to that.
After a while, Ron pulled something out to show Harry – a fat grey blob with a long, pink tail. "His name's Scabbers," he said, "And he's useless. Doesn't do anything, just eats and sleeps. Used to be Percy's until he got his owl, but Mum and Dad couldn't aff – I got Scabbers instead."
Harry eyed the rat. Scabbers certainly seem very active. "How old is he?"
"Dunno. Percy got him when he was little, found him in the back garden."
"And Percy is…"
"My older brother," Ron said, slightly gloomily. "I've got five, and a younger sister too. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, me, and Ginny. Bill was Head Boy, Charlie was Quidditch Captain, Percy's a Prefect, and Fred and George are just funny… and Ginny's the only girl, I guess. Dunno what I'll do."
"You'll figure something out," Harry assured him, unwrapping a piece of gum and swatting Scabbers away from his half-finished cauldron cake. "That's how it goes in big families."
"You got any si – well, cousins, I guess?" Ron asked, picking up Scabbers and feeding him a Fudge Fly.
Harry paused. "It's complicated."
"How?" Ron asked. When Harry paused, he quickly backpedalled, "You don't have to! I was just curious."
"Nah, it's fine, I was just wondering how to…" Harry paused. "See, I've got my godfather, Uncle Padfoot, and Uncle Moony, they're friends of my dad. Then Aunt Amy and Crazy Aunt River, they're my mom's cousins, and then their husbands, Uncle Rory and Uncle Doctor. But there was this accident when Aunt Amy was a kid, with a time turner… anyway, Aunt River is technically Aunt Amy's daughter, but because of the accident, she's really more a sister. It gets confusing."
Ron blinked. "Whoa, no kidding, that is nuts. Must be a Potter thing."
"Possibly," Harry said gravely, "Though I suspect it comes more from Aunt Amy's side of the family. My father's side is more likely to blow up a toilet or something."
Ron snorted. "Fred and George reckon they're going to send Ginny a toilet seat. Mum told them not to blow the loo up, and well, there you are."
Harry thought back to the twins' appearance, speech, and prompt disappearance. "Sounds about right."
There was another, more comfortable, silence, before Ron spoke up again. "Can I ask a question?"
"Shoot."
"Do you really have the scar."
"Yup," Harry replied, pushing up his fringe.
"Wicked," Ron breathed.
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Would have preferred something a bit more… metal, you know. I survived the Killing Curse and all I got was this stupid scar."
"Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."
"Check the bathrooms," Harry suggested. "It's a toad, after all"
"Oh, I guess… wow, you're Harry Potter! I've read all about you!"
"I object to the second paragraph in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts," Harry grumbled. "It makes me sound like Batman."
"But – you defeated Lord Voldemort!" the girl waved her arms in the air as Ron nearly fell off his chair.
"I was one," Harry emphasized. "Anyway, you're scaring Ron."
"Why would I be scaring Ronald?"
"You said his name!" Ron exclaimed. "You don't just say his name!"
"Uncle Padfoot reckons the name used to have a Taboo curse on it," Harry added sagely. "It let them track anyone who was brave enough to say Voldypants's name and murder them."
"…Oh."
"Do you need help finding the toad?"
"Oh, no, Neville and I will just keep looking," the girl said waving her hand and starting to leave.
"You never gave us your name," Harry pointed out.
"Oh! I'm Hermione Granger. I, um… I'm going to go check the bathrooms, now."
"Pain, that one," Ron mumbled, after the door was closed.
"Socially awkward only child," Harry noted. "Probably quite smart, but will need to learn how not to scare people away."
"How d'you know?"
"I live with a man-child with no sense of stop, a werewolf who happens to be dating the man-child, a nurse who once spent 2000 years waiting – word to the wise, Ron, never mess with a time-turner if you don't know what you're doing, it fricks crud up – a very sassy and somehow mostly stable ginger whose daughter is the same age as she is, an aunt who always has 'Crazy' tacked onto her name, and the guy who married her. Psychology is a piece of cake."
"…What?"
"So, Charlie deals with dragons," Ron explained.
"Ooh, dragons, that sounds cool. Never seen one of them."
"It's dangerous, but he likes it."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I might consider that… damn sight better than those freaking peg dolls…"
Right as Ron was going to ask exactly what eldritch abomination the peg dolls had been, the door to the compartment popped open again and Harry began wondering if they had slipped back into the early Victorian Era, when people intentionally popped over for all of two seconds and thoroughly bothered you. Then again, there was a distinct lack of Lizard People and Potatoes."
"They're saying Harry Potter's on the train," the gate-crasher announced, looking down his nose at the two boys with grey eyes uncannily similar to and yet completely different to Sirius's. "So."
Ron glared. Harry settled for bland staring. It was, apparently, a good trick for convincing people you were either insane or a mass murderer, if you asked Sirius.
Or tripping on something, as Rory said in a rather disgruntled tone after they got pulled over halfway down the motorway.
It worked, though.
"So, you're Harry Potter."
Harry turned around to see Ron glaring and the gate-crasher from earlier looking imperiously at him. "Okay, you know my name. Bit creepy, but I guess it's a magic thing. Who're you?"
"I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. And this is Crabbe and Goyle."
Harry blinked at him for a moment before grinning. "You're Uncle Siri's cousin once removed!" He bounced over and threw his arms around the blonde's shoulders. "More family!"
What are you doing? Ron mouthed over Draco's shoulder.
Having fun, duh, Harry mouthed back, before yelling, in a fairly good imitation of Sirius, "We've got to meet up over the holidays! Da reckons he hasn't seen your mum in AGES!"
"What in the name of Merlin, Potter?" Draco squeaked. "Let go, you're crinkling my robes!"
"Aw," Harry said, and let go. "Okay then. Bye, Draco." And he trotted back over to Ron.
"What just happened?" A puzzled looking blonde asked his neighbour.
The girl shook her head and shrugged, pigtails bouncing.
"Sort me already," Harry moaned. "My leg's going to sleep."
"I was not meant to sort time travellers," the hat told him crossly.
"Just put me somewhere! I don't care if it's Slytherin," Harry whined. "I've been here for ages."
"You've been here for three minutes."
Harry fidgeted.
"Fine. Your mind is getting blurry anyway. GRYFFINDOR!"
There was an explosion of cheering from the red house as Harry put the hat back on the school, grinned widely at Professor McGonagall, and skipped over to sit down next to yet another redhead (probably Percy).
Up at the head table, Dumbledore watched the boy with curiosity. He was unharmed, good, but something wasn't quite what he remembered. One or two traits that couldn't possibly be Harry's alone…
"Harry, watch out for the – WHAT THE FU – FUUDGE. CORNELIUS FUDGE."
"Geronimooo…made it!" Harry cheered, standing on the detached far side of the staircase.
"Harry," Percy moaned, "You can't just jump across the stairs like that!"
"They won't kill me," Harry scoffed. "And if they do, then at least you know they're definitely enough to keep you safe from errant Dark Lords."
"Turn around, Gryffindor," Percy sighed. "We'll take the long route. Harry, how are you getting to the tower?"
"Oh, it's okay," Harry chirped. "I got directions from my Uncles."
And, true enough, Harry was already there (having a civil conversation with Peeves, of all things!) when the Prefect rounded the corner to Gryffindor tower.
"Hang on," Hermione exclaimed. "It says in Great Wizarding Events of the 20th Century that Harry only has one Uncle and one Aunt!"
Ron blinked. "Your book's wrong. He has four uncles, an Aunt, and a half-Aunt-half-Cousin."
"A what?"
"Caput Draconis! Boys on the left, girls on the right. Harry, do not try to climb the girl's staircase," Percy groaned.
"How crazy does he think I am?" Harry whispered to Ron. "I'm not shimmying all the way up that wall. Honestly."
"You really are something else, Harry," the redhead noted.
"So I hear."
Dear Father
Harry Potter has not rejected me. He has, in fact, decided to hug my and declare we need to meet up over the holidays (VERY LOUDLY. It's frightful). This is apparently because Mother hasn't met his uncle (he also calls the man 'Da'. I'm rather confused) in 10 years.
What's going on?!
Yours,
Draco
100 Followers
When did this happen?!
I love you all!
Reviews!
The Geeky Folkteller: Well, you can hardly expect him to be quiet about it.
The 1st Bookworm: Indeed.
James Birdsong: :D
A Guest: *Smacks own head on table*
frankieu: Glad you like!
Amnesia777: Great!
Caelus06: Thanks!
JannaKalderash: May have been a bit of a metaphorical jump. Combining two fandoms into one figurative device may have been a mistake... for clarification, I meant that by now he's sort of hovering at the edge of the magical and muggle (well, timey wimey, but who's judging) worlds. Among other things. I'll try to be clearer next time. Good pickup - everything sounds fine in my head...
d1n0s: Thank you, and it depends. I'd need to find a way to work him in as, when writing this, I wanted to deal mostly with the implications of having this new Harry running around in the place of browbeaten canon!Harry. Although, I guess it shouldn't be too hard for him to say, look, I'm magic too, I have a wand! C'mon, Tommy old pal, let's attempt murder!