Disclaimer's in the prologue.
"Uncle Pads!" A boy with a messy black hair with red highlights jumped up and down an older man's bed "come on you said I can go to Diagon Alley alone!"
"Alright, alright, hold your horses kiddo Diagon Alley is not going anywhere." The older man, Sirius, stood up and playfully pushed the boy. "Lawrence Potter! It's six in the morning!" Sirius exclaimed, taking a good look at the clock. "The shops won't open until ten!"
"Aw...but Uncle Sirius, it's good to be early isn't it?" Lawrence gave his Uncle his best puppy dog eyes.
"Fine." His Uncle caved in before instructing the house-elves to prepare a meal for them two.
"Can we go now?" Lars asked again after rushing to finish his food.
"No." replies Sirius. "You'll stay with me at my office until ten, then you can go shopping for your other things, I already bought your books."
"But...your office is so boring." Lars whined. "I won't have anyone to talk to there."
"Either you stay with me there or I won't let you go shopping alone." His uncle's tone meant that it was final, no more arguments.
"Alright, alright, I'll behave." he said before changing the subject. "When's Uncle moony coming back?"
"Probably next week, I don't know yet." Uncle Sirius replied. "Tinky!" a house-elf appeared. "We won't be back until the afternoon, clean the place up, except Lars' room he'll be the one cleaning it, right Lawrence?"
"Yes Uncle Pads, I'll clean it."
"Good, come." They both went to the manor's study and his Uncle threw a fistful of a silvery brown powder in the fireplace, the fire turned green and his Uncle stepped in yelling "Auror Department." Lars did the same and he stumbled out of another fireplace, he still hasn't got a hang of using floo as a means of transportation he always lands on his bum, rarely it was the he is actually standing.
Lars frowned at practically every people he came across with on the streets. He doesn't like the attention caused by the stupid 'boy-who-lived' thing. Who would want it if what caused that attention is your mother getting killed...and your brother being neglected because of it, your life never going to be normal and people expecting a lot from you.
"There are books, card games, board games, take your pick, you still have an hour 'til I let you go." his Uncle instructed before leaving him in his office to get some paper works.
Lars spent his hour alternating between playing a board game called Scrabble where you make words, Exploding snap, and a memory game using his frog cards.
"Now can I go?" Lars asked his Uncle when the clock struck ten.
"Alright, Mr. Potter you may go." His Uncle handed him a pouch with money in it for him to spend.
"Stay out of trouble." his Uncle said, ruffling his already messy hair before leaving through the fireplace.
"Merlin, I hate floo-ing." Lars grumbled when he, again, stumbled out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, a pub that only Wizards can see and where the entrance to Diagon Alley is located.
"Mr. Tom can you help me for a moment please, I have to go to Diagon Alley." he asked politely even when he's quire irritated at the people making such a fuss over him.
"Sure Lars." Tom led him to a door at the back of the pub. It looks like a dead end but with a few taps on the brick wall it opened to reveal Diagon Alley.
"Thanks Mr. Tom." he said before entering the alley. Where to first? He thought. He checked his list. All his books were bought already so he decided to buy the brass scales, telescope, crystal phials, cauldron and wand, in this order.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, a pleasure to see you again," The voice of Mr. Ollivander startled him. "Nine inches, Unicorn Hair, Mahogany. I trust that your training wand did you good, hm."
"Yes sir, it was very good." he replied. Mr. Ollivander is an odd old man who remembers each and every people he had sold his wand to.
Mr. Ollivander had him try nearly fifteen separate wands before he found him a match.
"Thirteen inches, dragon scale, a powerful wand indeed, this is the last wand that I have that has a dragon scale as a wand core, my grandfather created that wand if I am not mistaken..." Mr. Ollivander said.
"Curious," Mr. Ollivander muttered quietly, but Lars had heard it.
"Sorry, but what's curious?" Lars asked, wanting to know why the old man thought it's curious.
"I just thought perhaps that you, being 'the boy-who-lived'" Lars frowned at that good for nothing title, "shall have the brother wand of 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', just that." Mr. Ollivander said. "Nevertheless your wand is powerful."
"Right...uhm...how much is it?" he asked to break the awkward atmosphere around him.
"7 galleons." He paid the man then left and went back to the Leaky Cauldron to have his lunch.
Lars thought, while eating his meal, that maybe this means he's not the 'boy-who-lived', that he wasn't the one that Voldemort tried to kill. The thoughts gave him utter delight. If he wasn't who people thought he was then he wouldn't be getting all the unwanted attention, all the life threats. He'll have a normal life, heck he doesn't even know why that bloody Dark Wizard wanted to kill him anyway, his guardians refused to tell him until he was old enough.
Thinking back if he wasn't the one, then it must be his brother. Lars sighed as he thought about his brother, his older twin, he misses his twin greatly and he hoped that his twin would hold on to his promise that he will come back.
After finishing his meal he went back to the Alley to go to the Quality Quiditch Supply Shop. He is a big fan of the game Quiditch and would try out for his house team as soon as he's allowed to.
"Oh, blimey, I'm sorry!" He exclaimed as he bumped into some cloaked person about his height. The cloaked person was wearing an expensive looking black cloak, there were gold linings of symbols that Lars did not know, and the hood covered almost all of the cloaked person's face.
The cloaked person dropped his things and Lars tried to help when the cloaked person said "No" his deep voice meant that the cloaked person is a boy.
"I'm really sorry." he said once more. "Is there anything broken? I'll pay for it I promise!" He ranted nervously worried that he might have broken the cloaked chap's belongings.
"Don't worry about it, nothing's broken." The cloaked boy said as he arranged his belongings. Lars noticed that they have the same things so probably the boy is also going to Hogwarts.
"Hogwarts too?" Lars asked in a friendly manner, handing a book to the boy.
"Yes," The other boy replied, taking back the book as if snatching it.
Lars was going to introduce himself when the other boy interjected "I know who you are Mr. Potter." The other boy calling him 'Mr. Potter' made him sound like a teacher. The cloaked boy started walking away when Lars called for him.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" he asked in annoyance. "That's pretty rude you know."
"Be that as it may, I doubt that you would want to associate with a Slytherin Mr. Potter." The cloaked boy said. Lars frowned, he hates it that people thinks he's prejudiced against Slytherins or at least wanna-be Slytherins just because his father is one prejudiced arse.
"I'm not prejudiced you know," he informed the cloaked boy. "Uncle Remus said that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover." Too true, that statement is
"He's wise to tell you that," The cloaked boy praised. "I'm Evandrus," the cloaked boy said without clarifying if it's his given name or Surname but Lars thought that it's probably the latter.
"See you in Hogwarts Mr. Potter." The cloaked boy then walked away until Lars saw him no more amidst the crowd.
"How's shopping?" his Uncle Sirius asked during dinner.
"Alright, I had my things sent here by owl, except my wand." he replied. "I have thirteen inches, Mahogany."
"And the wand core?"
"Dragon scale."
"Dragon Scale." his uncle mused, "That must be a powerful wand."
"Yeah, Mr. Ollivander said that it is." he replied gloomily, pondering if he should tell his Uncle that he did not have Lord Voldemort's brother wand and the possibility, just a possibility that he's asking to be true, that he's not the 'boy-who-lived', he thought against it for a minute, it wouldn't change anything anyway and no one would believe him since, aside from his brother, no one can be the bloody-boy-who-didn't-die.
"Something wrong?" Sirius' voice snapped him out of his thinking.
"No, nothing." he replied, and before his Uncle ask more about what he's thinking he immediately decided to tell him about the cloaked boy he bumped into. "You know I bumped into this odd boy in Diagon Alley, he was wearing a cloak that literally covered his face,"
"How'd you know it was a boy then?" His Uncle inquired.
"His voice," Lars said, drinking his pumpkin juice, "and his cloak doesn't look like something a girl would choose to wear...less colourful."
"You talked then," Lars nodded. "The odd kid got a name?"
"He said he's 'Evandrus', I don't know if it's his actual name or his Surname." His thoughts then drifted off to the fact that his uncle knows a lot of wizards. "Do you know anyone who has the name 'Evandrus'?"
"Not that I know of so it certainly isn't from a pureblood family."
"Oh." he said, a bit disappointed. "Are you going to go with me to King's Cross tomorrow?"
"Of course." His uncle replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Hey Ron!" Lars called for his red-head friend as soon as he saw them in King's Cross. "Hi Mrs. Weasley." He greeted Ron's mother politely.
"Hello dear, hello Sirius." Mrs. Weasley smiled at them both.
"Hey Molly good to see you." Uncle Sirius said, pecking her cheek. "Right then, best be off now, behave Lars, owl me every week and do us proud." Sirius left after ruffling Lars' messy hair.
"Oh mate, there aren't any more free seats, everything's taken!" Ron whined when they weren't able to find anymore compartment inside the train. "You shouldn't have let those girls have the compartment we found." He smacked his friend, playfully on the head.
"Be a gentleman Ron," He mock scolded.
They both scowled when they crossed Draco Malfoy, official gittest of the git in the history of the Wizarding World.
"Potty and the Weasel." Malfoy taunted. "Looking for more mudblood and bloodtraitor friends Potter?"
"Sod off ferret face!" Ron snarled at them "At least they're friends."
"Funny you should say that Weasley, you'll need all the help you can get when you can no longer buy your school things." Malfoy's Slytherin cohorts laughed and Ron flushed in anger.
"Don't insult his family!" Lars said indignantly. "Not everything is about money and standing Malfoy."
"You wouldn't be saying that if you're as dirt poor as Weasley, Potter." Malfoy retorted. "Weasley has neither wealth nor standing, a pity your father is such a disgrace and let his other son run away."
Lars clenched his fist in ire but he stood his ground and remained cool. "Say what you want about him, I don't care." he said coldly for he really doesn't care all that much what other people think about his father. As far as he's concerned his father is an arrogant toe rag who cares only about fame.
A smirk formed on Lars face as he said, "You know, I can't help but find similarities between you and my father."
"Don't you dare compare me to that bloodtraitor!" Malfoy hissed, evidently insulted.
"What's going on there?" He turned and he saw Percy, Ron's prefect brother, making his way to them.
"Nothing that concerns you Weaselby." Malfoy said dismissively before striding off with his goons.
"Everything alright, you two?" Percy asked the two of them.
"Yeah, we're just looking for a compartment and Malfoy acted like an arse, again."
"Alright then, there should be a few more compartments by the back, I'm staying in the Prefect's compartment, stay out of trouble." Percy then went on.
"Come on Ron." They walked until they were near the last end of the train. They knocked on the compartment door first and entered when nobody answered. They saw someone is already inside.
Lars stared at the person inside. The person was probably sleeping because his head was inclined to the wall with a black and low soft felt hat with the crown creased lengthwise covering his face. The person was wearing common muggle clothes, same as what he sometimes sees the muggles in Godric's Hollow wear; shiny black shoes, jeans and a black double-breasted waistcoat over a white dress shirt. The attire alone suggests that he's either a muggle raised half-blood or a muggleborn.
"D'you think he's asleep?" Ron asked him.
"Looks like it, we best not disturb him." They spent their time eating sweets and talking about Quiditch until Lars decided to tell Ron about the boy he stumbled into in Diagon Alley.
"You mean you don't know who he is?" Ron clarified.
Lars shrugged. "Said he's Evandrus, dunno if that's his Surname or First name or if he's telling the truth for that matter."
"He'll be in Hogwarts?"
"Yeah, he said he's a Slytherin."
"Then he's bad news mate, bad news," said Ron darkly, head shaking, "you know Slytherins are a bunch of dark wizards."
"Don't start on me about that again Ron, I don't like prejudice, I hate it, I get your opinion but stop saying those things in front of me, I really don't like it." He said as calmly as possible. He can't stand the prejudiced views about houses anymore. What happened years ago proved that it doesn't matter what house you are in, there are good and bad people everywhere, just make sure you're one of the good guys.
"Alright, I'll bugger off on that." Ron said, being a bit considerate. "That bloke must be really sleepy." He glanced at the sleeping boy in front of him.
Lars had this feeling that the boy is not sleeping but listening in on their conversation which is giving him the urge to confront the said boy but decided against it because it will be a real shame if it turned out that the other boy is really sleeping so he just said "I guess so."
A few more hours before they arrived in Hogsmeade were spent between eating candies, talking about Quiditch, exploring the castle and all that yadda, yadda on what they're going to do once inside the castle grounds.
Lars sighed heavily. "Do you think he'll be here?"
"Who?" Lars, for just a little bit, wanted to smash his friend's head, or smash anything at all, for not knowing, even if it was quite obvious, that he was talking about his twin. Every time the talk is about Hogwarts, he always asks himself or anybody who is with him if his brother would come back.
"My brother, my twin." he said, sighing. He hated the world for forgetting about his brother, for forgetting that there were two Potters not just him, Lars Potter, there was also a Harry Potter.
"I don't know mate, maybe." was the only reply he got from his friend. Lars shouldn't have expected any sort of helpful reply from his friend really, not when he knows that his friend doesn't really care about the runaway twin topic.
Resignedly, Lars looked down on his feet, muttering "You said you'll be back."
"We're here." Lars announced when the train stopped at around half an hour later. "I think we should wake him up." he added when he saw that the sleeping boy was still not moving and looked like he was still fast asleep. He was going to poke the sleeping boy when the boy sat up straight, hat still covering the face.
"I'm not going to start worshipping the ground you walk on if that's what you're expecting from me." The now awake boy said scathingly with a light voice. "I care not who you are, Potter. So go parade your fame elsewhere." He couldn't believe the audacious assumption of the cloaked boy that he, Lars Potter, is some kind of attention seeking brat who goes around using his fame everywhere he goes.
"I was just being nice!" Lars said, close to yelling. "In case you haven't noticed the train stopped and you were just sitting still!" Lars was still glaring at the cloaked boy. "I'd never expect anyone to worship me."
The unknown boy chuckled, taking off the fedora hat that consequently made the muggle clothes transfigure into their school robes. Amused, Lars thought whilst the unknown boy chuckles.
"Good to see," the unknown boy began as he took off the dark eyeglasses, "that fame hasn't inflated your head." The boy chuckled again. "I know for certain, dear brother, that it would be a real shame."
Lars' eyes widened in surprise and he stood there, petrified as his hazel eyes locked with the other boy's familiar green eyes.
"H-Harry? Is that really you?" Lars looked at the previously unknown boy's forehead, which was visible with his cleanly cut raven hair, to see if a lightning bolt scar is present. To Lars' immense relief, it is but it isn't quite visible as the right side of the other's forehead is partially covered by the raven locks of hair.
"What a shame," Harry shook his head as if feigning disappointment, "my own dear brother doesn't even recognize me." Lars was just blinking there. He couldn't believe that his brother was there, the sleeping, or maybe not really sleeping, boy who was with them was his brother.
"I...no...I remember you Harry, of course...I never forgot...I'm just surprised...really...really surprised." Lars stammered. "I'm glad really glad to see you." It was evident that Harry wasn't expecting a hug but patted Lars' back anyway, even if a bit awkwardly.
"What are you people looking at?" Harry scowled at just about everybody who is staring at them. Lars had to agree that it was annoying. Within the first few minutes that he has been reunited with his older twin, he noticed that the said older twin is a bit moody, snarky, sarcastic, and irascible as hell. Still, that might have something to do with the endless staring both of them arereceiving.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here" the big man, who's the gatekeeper of Hogwarts, said loudly.
"Hey Hagrid!" Ron and he greeted the half-giant. "Harry's back."
"Ye' I kno', nice ter see ya again Harry." Hagrid said, smiling at Harry who just looked at Hagrid with disinterest after giving a polite nod of acknowledgement.
"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.
Lars rode the boat with his brother, Harry, his best mate, Ron, and another friend of his, Neville.
"FORWARD." Commanded the gatekeeper and then the boats motioned towards the castle.
"D'you think there's really a giant squid here?" Ron asked, looking over the lake.
"Would you like to find out?" Harry said snidely that made Lars palm his face. "It'd be my pleasure to throw you overboard, Weasley."
The whole boat ride was quiet after that and Harry seemed to take pleasure in that silence. There were a lot of murmurs from the other boats. A bushy haired girl, from another boat, was chatting with another girl she was with and started telling her about the history of Hogwarts.
Hogwarts castle was majestic everyone stared at it with awe knowing that they will be living inside that very castle for ten months every year for the next seven years.
Hagrid left them when a tall, black-haired witch, he knows as Professor McGonagall their parent's old Professor, in emerald-green robes, greeted them. She had a stern face and she is not someone you would want to mess with.
"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and your Transfigurations Professor." She began. "Now, in a few moments you will pass through this door and you will join your classmates after you're sorted into your houses, the houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."
"Now while at school your house will be like your family, triumphs will earn you points, any rule-breaking and you will lose points, at the end of the year the House with the most points will win the House Cup." She paused before saying "The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily." She left the students and entered the room behind the huge door.
"Where do you think you'll be sorted?" Lars whispered to his twin, not sure if his brother would want to go to Gryffindor where their father had once been.
"Maybe Gryffindor." said Harry blandly, clearly bored and disinterested. "I personally don't care."
"Where's our father by the way?" he did not expect that question, for all he thought Harry would avoid any conversation regarding their father.
"He's -" He stopped when Professor McGonagall returned and whispered to his brother "Tell you another time."
"We're ready for you now," she said. "Follow me."
They all lined up by twos, him beside his brother naturally, and followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall. The older years were looking at the new students. The ghosts were hovering around them and welcoming them in Hogwarts.
"Before we begin Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words." She said as the students gathered in front of the whole hall.
The old wizard who was sitting in the middle of the staff table stood up.
"To the first years please note, that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students, also our care taker Mr. Filch," Dumbledore glanced at the haggard looking man with a cat who has blood red eyes who was standing near a door, "had asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds for anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you." Dumbledore sat back down, the students looking scared and curious at the same time.
Professor McGonagall placed a hat on the stool and the students looked at it incredulously. Shockingly, it opened its mouth and began to sing. Curious, he thought. That's how the sorting goes. His guardians kept that a secret.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be,
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends,
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, I will put the hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
"I'm going to kill Fred, he said we were going to battle a mountain troll." Ron whispered to him a bit loudly that Harry also heard it.
"Your vacuousness truly astounds me." drawled Harry, not even looking at Ron whom he made the comment for.
Instead of answering back, Ron asked, baffled "My what?" even Lars doesn't know what that means, though he has a feeling that it is insulting because Harry said it out of annoyance, pleasure in mocking Ron at every turn.
"He meant your stupidity Weasley." Malfoy interjected from behind them with a laugh.
"Nobody asked you Malfoy." Ron retorted, his cheeks red.
"Actually, you didn't ask anybody in particular so I just let myself answer your dilemma with vocabulary." He was a little angry that that conversation started because of Harry calling Ron 'stupid' by using another word.
"Evandrus -" The last name caught his attention "-Harold" he became confused when Harry was the one who walked towards the stool and sat on it. They were so much busy at their bickering that they didn't hear the others being sorted.
A minute or two later the hat shouted "Slytherin" and he could do nothing but gape that his brother was sorted in the house of snakes. He was half-expecting it because he guessed that Harry wouldn't like to be in the same house as their dad's even if their mum was also there, what he can't believe is that he met his brother before school.
Harry walked towards the Slytherin table after sparing a glance at the Head Table where the Headmaster raised his cup for him. The others were looking at him probably because of his resemblance with Lars. He, after all, looked like a raven-haired, green eyed version of his brother. He turned his back from them and just watched the sorting.
It's now Lars' turn after a few students that he didn't bother knowing the name.
"Potter, Lawrence" said the professor. Loud whispers can be heard around the great hall, fussing about Lars Potter being the boy-who-lived.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Lars Potter?" At least his ego isn't inflated like our father's, Harry thought.
Lars walked confidently towards the stool but with no air of arrogance around him like their father. Harry was just simply grateful that his brother's like that. After a minute that the hat was placed on Lars' head it cried "Gryffindor!"
It wasn't a big surprise that Lars was sorted in that house.
"WE GOT POTTER!" shouted a twin red-head students, Harry recognized them as the Weasley twins, Weasley's older brothers.
"You're Evandrus right?" An older boy with a messy brown hair said to him and he stared at him before nodding his head.
"I'm Kevin Macnair." The older boy said. "You look like a Potter over there, has anyone mentioned that to you?"
"I'm not daft enough not to see a resemblance Macnair." he replied tersely, "You don't need to point it out to me."
"Are you related to them then?" Macnair asked warily. Clearly everyone, well mostly everyone has forgotten about Harry Potter, it wasn't like he cared.
"I thought that would've been obvious." he muttered. It should have been obvious, as much as he hates that he's a clone of James Potter, except the eyes and his now clean hair, he can't and no one can deny that fact. Besides, there are very few wizards in Britain so a chance of two having a striking resemblance is very little.
Harry had to refrain himself from sighing and just looked at the older boy as if the said older boy is that biggest idiot on earth. "I'm his twin you nitwit." he said.
Macnair's face changed all of a sudden and his fake friendly demeanour changed into a rather unfriendly one. "Ah... I see we have a blood traitor here." Macnair sneered. "You better watch it Potter," He rolled his eyes when Macnair referred to him by his previous surname. "You're just a half-blood and purebloods like us rule here in Slytherin House." Macnair finished his little tirade and then sat with another group of Slytherin students.
"He's all bark." A boy beside him commented. Harry recognized that voice, belonging to the one who was polite to ask even they can stay in the compartment before Lars and Weasley arrived.
"My name's Nott, Theodore Nott." He looked curiously at the other boy's introduction he was imitating James Bond, which was really a surprise, considering that the 'Nott' family is a pureblood.
"Harry Evandrus." He shook hands with Nott who beamed at him.
"Why are you even talking to me, when I do nothing but nod?" Harry asked a little later when he found Nott's constant chatter and trying to get him into a conversation, really irksome.
Nott shrugged. "You don't talk much, so I figured if I annoy you, you'd talk, eventually...just like now."
"Fabulous," Harry said dryly. "Go bother someone else, why don't you."
"Nah, they don't already like me because I'm speaking to you." Nott replied.
"Good thing you know Nott, stupid purebloods who are associating with blood traitors aren't welcome here." Malfoy said from the other side of the table.
"I'll take your opinion into account when you become Minister Malfoy, so just do shut up." Nott retorted with an annoying smile directed at Malfoy.
"Come on mate, I'm just trying to be friendly," Nott said to him.
"I don't like the idea of friends." he stated flatly.
Nott's reply was cut off by the Headmaster.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried The Headmaster and he noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
The Headmaster gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose up, high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favourite tune," said the Headmaster, "and off we go!"
Harry noticed that only a few Slytherin students, including Nott, were singing along with the others unlike the other students, especially the students from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff table were singing in delight.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."
"Off to bed now you trot." Said the Headmaster.
"We're not fishes you senile old man." Harry muttered as he joined the others that are about to leave the hall.