Disclaimer's in the prologue.
At the end of Potions Class, Harry was asked by the Professor to stay.
"Yes sir?" Harry asked his Professor after all his classmates left the room.
"I just wanted to tell you, welcome back Mr. Evandrus." Professor Snape said, but his voice lacking warmth but he meant what he said. "Thank you sir." Harry told his professor who was sitting on his chair. "Would that be all Sir?"
"No. I want you to be my assistant in a few of my classes during your free time." Harry brightened up a bit upon hearing what his professor had said. "I shall have Flint give you the schedule."
"Thank you, Sir, I would really like that." Harry said gratefully to his teacher "Are you still going to recommend me for an early apprenticeship?" Some time ago, the man promised him that after seeing he has a talent in potion making.
"Yes Mr. Evandrus, I will." The Potions Master replied. "If ever they allow it, which they undoubtedly would, you shall start next year for your apprenticeship."
"That would be great Sir." he said, smiling politely.
"I imagined it would be." Professor Snape said. "I had thought your brother would be as competent as you are, though it seems he's only good in the theory."
"Yes, but he's excellent in Transfiguration, Sir." he said proudly. His brother is better at him in Transfiguration but he's better in Potions and they seem to be at par when it comes to Charms. "It would be a great surprise if he wouldn't be."
"I heard what you told Mr. Nott during your first night, very eloquently put." The potions master said with a smirk of amusement.
"I did overuse the words didn't I?" he responded sheepishly.
"Indeed."
"My brother said he died and you tried to save him." Harry said after a minute of silence.
"Wrong place at the wrong time, now when's your next class?" Professor Snape immediately said, changing the subject.
"History of Magic in ten minutes, Sir." The Potions Master took a spare parchment and started writing something down and when he finished, he handed it to Harry. "Give it to him if you're late. You are dismissed."
"Before I exit," Harry began before he completely steps out of the Potions classroom, "I d respectfully ask that you lay off my brother, Sir. And the explosion, it was not caused by them but by that ferret Malfoy." Harry didn't wait for a reply but instead made his way to the Histroy of Magic classroom.
History of Magic is a class where all the houses are there in one class, it was taught by Professor Binns. Binns is a Professor who is a ghost and has been teaching that subject for a very long time.
When he entered the room he saw most of his classmates sleeping except Crabbe, Theo, Granger, the Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuff students. The ghost didn't seem to notice him sat down beside Theo as he did not stop talking about whatever he's talking about.
"Wake up, class' over, its lunch time." Harry heard Theo's voice waking him up. He blinked his eyes then said "Thank you" to Theo for waking him up.
"Oi, Slytherin table's this way." Theo said to him when he was heading at another direction in the Great Hall.
"I'm going to sit with Lars, Theo." Harry said then headed to where his twin was sitting at.
"Hey Harry," His twin greeted.
"Lawrence." He greeted back lazily and sat down on the chair. "I swear I will poke each of your eyes out if you keep staring." He was getting more annoyed that the other Gryffindor students were looking at him.
"Go back to your own table snake!" An older boy with a brown curly hair yelled in their direction. Harry ignored the older boy and continued with his meal.
"I've wanted to ask you since the first day here, if you haven't kept on avoiding my question, why didn't you tell me who you are, that day in Diagon Alley?" Lars asked. "I would have been very glad to see you earlier than the start of school."
"I didn't want to." Harry said it very simply. "The hooded attire should have implied that I didn't want to be known by anyone."
"Not even me?"
"No, not even you, or Sirius, or Remus for that matter." Harry said in his usual straightforward way, not caring if his brother's hurt by his words. Besides, had he wanted anybody to see him he would've just gone to the ministry, ask where they live and go there.
"I did keep my promise anyhow." Harry placated. "I told you I'll be back and I did." He had a distinct feeling that this was because of the contents of the letter that he left six years ago.
"So where were you?"
"Virginia."
"You were in America!?" Lars exclaimed and Harry pulled the lower part of his ear, a habit that he does when somebody speaks too loudly.
"I lived there."
"But...you were five, how'd you get there? Who took you in?" Lars asked, prodding curiously on what had happened to him for the last six years.
"My guardian did, when I was nearly six." he answered. "Midas McGregor is my legal guardian. He found me, in the streets, knew who and what I am." he said, avoiding any more details besides what he said.
"Ok...question...how did you get into the streets?" Lars asked before a look of slight horror crept up on his face. "Don't tell me you lived there all those bloody months after you left the mansion!"
"Of course not." Harry huffed. "I'm not daft enough to stay on the streets. I was in an orphanage, ran away when two ugly couple tried to adopt me...nasty fellow those two are."
"Oh...why didn't -"
"Lawrence," he cut off his brother, "one more question prying about what happened to me and I'll walk away."
"Oki doki...We have flying lessons next week." Lars said excitedly, empathically changing the subject. "I can't wait. Too bad they don't allow first years to try-out for Quiditch."
"I don't like Quiditch." he announced, evidently shocking the others to the core. They can't expect everybody to like a game where there is a bigger possibility to get hurt than not.
"Why not!? It's the best game there is, brother." Lars said passionately.
"I don't like it because it's risky, dangerous and pointless." And also that it was a game their father excelled at and used to boast his way around Hogwarts like he owned the place.
"It's not pointless!" Lars and Weasley said at the same time. "Life without risk and danger is not much of a life, it'd be really dull."
"You lions enjoy danger and lack self-preservation, no wonder others say that this is the house of rash people." He doesn't see the point of getting hurt because of a blasted game.
"And you snakes are too much keen on self-preservation." Lars retorted. "No guts no glory brother."
Harry shrugged. "Then I guess no glory for me then."
"I thought Slytherins are supposed to be ambitious and will, quoting the sorting hat, 'use any means to achieve their ends'." Lars said with a frown.
"Well then I'm an exception to the rule." he replied with a bored tone, as of now he really doesn't have any ambition other than finishing school. "After all, great ambitions can lead to disaster."
One afternoon, Harry was looking rather gloomy as they waited for their flight instructor, Madame Rolanda Hooch. Slytherin house was the first one to go to the field while the Gryffindor students arrived a moment later. Most of the other Slytherin students, particularly Malfoy, outright complained about the brooms while boasting about his dubious Quiditch skills. Even Harry complained though not out loud. He could not believe that they are going to use those brooms that were on the ground. They were already old, scratch that, ancient looking, the brooms were fitted for a museum already and not flying lessons.
"Good afternoon class." Madame Hooch greeted them as soon as she arrived. She had a short spiky grey hair and piercing yellow, hawk-like eyes.
"Good afternoon Madame Hooch." They all greeted back.
"Welcome to your first flying lessons." She said enthusiastically. "I want you to step on the left side of your broom and say up." The students did what they were told. Harry's broom jumped up straight in to his hand as soon as he said "Up." The other students, Lars, Theo and Malfoy excluded, tried over and over again before they managed to make the broom jump.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Lars weren't corrected by Madame Hooch as they already know that correct way. Malfoy, however, had been told, much to the delight of most of the people present, that he was doing it wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, hover for a moment, and then lean forward then touch back down. On my whistle — three — two —"
Neville, being as nervous as always, flew off the ground before Madame Hooch could whistle. The other boy always seemed to be such a damsel in distress, first in potions where he nearly destroyed the potion that they were working on and now this.
They all could do nothing but watch as Neville goes round and round with his broom out of control. The school needed new brooms, really badly. They all saw that Neville was slowly sliding off his broom and the next thing they knew he landed on the ground, hard.
Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.
"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy — it's all right, up you get."
She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.
No sooner were they out of earshot then Malfoy burst into laughter and started ridiculing Neville. He then pointed at something then bent down to pick it up. It was the remembrall that Neville got from his Grandmother.
"Give it here Malfoy, it's not yours." Lars spoke up.
"No, I think I'll leave it for Longbottom to find...how 'bout on the roof?" The blonde boy smiled nastily.
"Give it here." Lars said once again. Malfoy smirked at him then mounted his broom.
"What's the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach." Malfoy taunted and Lars mounted his broom, ready to fly off.
"You do know you'll get in trouble if you go after him, don't you?" Harry said to his brother who seemed to think about it for a while but then another insult from Malfoy and he flew off.
"What do we do?" Theo asked him concernedly.
"Stand by and watch, feel free to join them though." Harry replied blandly with a yawn watching Malfoy and Lars up in the air. Malfoy then threw the remembrall and Lars raced to catch it. Harry immediately mounted his own broom then followed his brother, nearly crashing onto him then to the wall when he instinctively twisted and turned.
"What are you doing up here?" Lars asked him.
"Checking if you have already crashed." he replied simply before both of them returned back to the ground.
Lars was cheered by the others then a loud yell of "POTTER!" and "EVANDRUS!" from two different voices stopped the cheers. Harry did not need telling to know he had to follow his head of house out of the field.
"Holy Merlin we're going to get expelled!" Lars said frantically to him.
"I hope not." he replied calmly. He was annoyed at the event, he got concerned if his brother was going to get hurt for diving to get a blasted remembrall and decided to follow him, now see where it got him, in trouble with his Head of House in the brink of expulsion just for disobeying a teacher's instruction.
"Anything you have to say?" The Potions Master said silkily as they made their way to the dungeons.
"Apart from asking you not to expel me, no I don't have anything to say." he said cheekily.
"Watch your cheek boy." The Potions Master warned him in a dead serious tone as they entered the classroom "As if the old man would actually expel you and your precious brother." Harry didn't think about that, and was glad that he didn't because that would be utter arrogance. He should have known though that the Headmaster would never expel Lars, not that what they did is actually wrong except that they deliberately disobeyed a teacher.
"Okay, so how many points do I lose and how many months of detention are you going to give me?" Harry was still pushing it, all the while hoping that the Potions Master would not blow up.
The Potions Master gave him a pointed look, clearly telling him that he's threading on a very thin ice already for being cheeky twice, before saying "Twenty points and a month of scrubbing cauldron..."
"That doesn't sound too bad," Harry muttered and the Potions Master added, with a smirk, "And you are to try out for Quiditch, seeker. I will know if you are going to make a mess of it deliberately, and I am highly advising you not to."
"But I don't want to play that game!" Harry protested and the Potions Master raised an eyebrow at him. "It's risky and dangerous and I don't want to break my neck chasing a winged and golden coloured golf ball."
"Punishment are not events supposed to be enjoyed by disobedient children, Dismissed!" Harry did not move from where he stood.
"Sir, with all due respect, this is stupid. If I get injured and break my neck it will be in your conscience." He knew that a feeble attempt at blackmail like what he is doing now wouldn't work on the king of Slytherin house.
The Potions Master fixed his stern look at Harry that made him shift a little. "I saw you and your brother fly earlier and you both are exceptional so you will not lose your neck."
"My house has won the Quiditch Cup for seven straight years," Professor Snape informed him like he hadn't heard that before, "deliberately muck it up and you shall keep playing until you win a whole years match, have months of detention ahead of you and I shall postpone your mastery."
"This is blackmail." Harry said, crossing his arms.
"I would not have resorted to such had you graciously accept your punishment." The Potions Master said smoothly. "I repeat, you are dismissed." Harry left grumbling about his stupid punishment and snapping at about everyone who dared cross his way.
"Good afternoon, Flint." Harry greeted as he met up with Flint, the Quiditch captain, at the field days later.
"You can call me Marcus, Harry." Flint said, handing him a Cleansweep Seven broom. "Professor Snape told me to lend you my broom apparently he doesn't want to see you using the school brooms."
Harry huffed. "He probably doesn't want me to break my neck so he wouldn't get sacked for endangering a student." He said in annoyance. He is still highly annoyed that his Professor got him to participate in the try-out for the game.
"Here!" Flint, called the other three students who were going to try out for seeker. The other three were two were big bodied fifth years that look like Gorillas, the other one was a brown, spiky haired third year boy who, according to Theo, is Terrence Higgs, the seeker since last year.
"First to catch the snitch gets the position, I don't care how you do it as long you don't get someone killed or permanently injured." Flint said. "Mount your brooms, and may the best snake wins." He released the snitch and the four raced to it.
Harry was on the verge of forgetting about the whole try-out to just curse up until the next century the two gorillas that seem to want him to fall off, kept on bumping and bumping him violently. A minute later they lost sight of the snitch and Harry circled the whole field, the two Gorillas imitating him.
When the snitch showed itself again it dived down and only he and Higgs followed it. Harry didn't notice that Higgs pulled off because his eyes were focused on the snitch and when he grabbed it just a few feet from the ground he nearly fell off.
"The kid's the new seeker, Higgs' the reserve." Flint said then proceeded to do the try-outs for the other positions.
"You're a great flier kid." Higgs said to him while they were heading back to the castle. Harry said nothing at the compliment. "I'm Terrence Higgs by the way, but Renz is just fine."
"Harry," He shook the older boy's hand.
"So... do you play Quiditch a lot?" All the way to the castle was a continuous talk about the stupid game. Do you know this, do you know that. All kinds of question were asked but only about one topic, Quiditch.
"Hey!" Theo ran to them before they enter the Great Hall. "How's the try-out?" Harry ignored Theo but Higgs, in all his grinning madness, announced that he's the new seeker ever so proudly.
"He's the new seeker, we should celebrate, youngest seeker -" Theo interjected from there.
"Seekers." At Higgs' confused look he explained. "His brother is the new Gryffindor seeker, so the two of them are the youngest seekers in a century."
"Uh...who's his brother?" Higgs' asked again, apparently he doesn't keep up with school gossip that surrounded the school about Lawrence Potter's supposed twin. Supposed, because the others don't believe that precious Lars Potter's twin is a snake.
"Potter, they're twins, he was Harry Potter remember?" Theo said.
"Oh right...slipped my mind...seems you got skills from Potter senior. He was a great flier too wasn't he? I saw a medal of him in the trophy room, brilliant chaser they say."
Harry glared dangerously at the oblivious Higgs, he was gritting his teeth and clenching his fist as he stormed off to the Gryffindor table that he didn't hear what Theo said to Higgs.
"Well, great going Higgs you just pissed the hell out of him." Theo said dryly. "Rule number one if you want to be on good terms with Harry, don't ever compare him to his father whether it's obvious or not." Then Theo followed Harry to the Gryffindor table.
"What's wrong with him?" Lars asked Theo while glancing at Harry who was sulking.
"He's the new Slytherin seeker." Theo answered, deciding not to tell the fact that Harry was more upset that Higgs brought up their Father. "He got blackmailed into playing, as to how, I do not know."
"It's the punishment for flying, twenty points, a month of cauldron scrubbing and, eventually after trying-out, being the team seeker." Harry added looking a bit less hostile than a few minutes ago.
"The problem with that is?"
"I don't like the game." That, of course, was top one on Harry's list of 'Why I despise Quiditch so much'. "I don't want to get injured while playing the game. I got blackmailed into playing the game."
"Tough luck brother, look on the bright side though," Harry looked incredulous at his twin brother, for him there is no bright side in this absolutely inane punishment to play the game, "we beat records, we're the youngest seekers in a century."
"Fantastic! Just what I always wanted, being the youngest person to be tasked in catching a flying golf ball." Harry said sarcastically that got him tons of eye rolling from the others around him and questions about what a golf ball is.
"On the other hand," Harry said thoughtfully, "maybe there's a bright side, Slytherin will beat the Gryffindor team for the eighth time again... Yes I guess that would be the bright side for me."
"Oh hell no we're taking back the cup." Lars said with determination in his tone.
"Are you willing to bet on that?" Theo challenged. "I'll bet ten galleons that Slytherin will win the first match on November and thirty on the Quiditch and the House cup at the end of the year...again, sounds like a deal?"
"Betting is not allowed here." Harry said to them, but they didn't listen to a word that he had said.
"Alright, deal." Lars and Theo shook hands. "Anyone wanna join the bet?" In the end five more Gryffindors joined the bet for the first match on November, the curly brown haired older boy, Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor team, and two other fifth years. All betting ten galleons.
"Why are you sure that Slytherin is going to win again?" Harry asked, wanting to know what gave Theo the nerve to bet against other students.
Theo shrugged then grinned at him. "I just have the feeling that you'll do your best because you got blackmailed into playing."