Just a bit of backstory before he goes to Hogwarts, about how he first met his friends, and a bit of a mystery for you. Can you figure out why James is at his worst during Halloween? Harry was ten when he learnt not to anger his father on hallows eve. It had been two years since Harry'd been sent away to Darkness academy, but he'd come home for Halloween break. Just in time for the yearly pureblood Hallows eve party. James had been making excuses to avoid the party for years now, but his friends had finally coaxed him into getting them to attend. That was how Harry had found himself apparating into the ball room of the Blaise's with his family-if you could call them that, that is.

Tugging on his dark green dress robes that were slightly to large for him, he glanced around. The room had been decorated with gold and purple colors, and many of the guests had already arrived and were socializing with that pureblood grace that only they seemed to have.

A woman with smooth ebony skin walked up to the trio that were now starting to attract attention.

Offering her hand to James, who looked slightly uncomfortable, she said, "I'm Evelyn Zabini. And why, it's nice to see that you've finally been able to make it. We were beginning to wonder if the oh so great "Potters" had thought themselves above pureblood traditions,"

James had noticed the thinly veiled insult, and from the anger on his face, Harry knew that James was about to say the wrong thing. Reacting quickly, he cut in, "Oh no, Lady Zabini," his voice sounded sickingly sweet to his own pierced ears, "It's not our family name that's in question."

She glared down at Harry, easily figuring out which of the twins he was, after all, they both looked the part. While at one time, they'd been nearly identical, the differences had become more pronounced as they grew. Evan took on the strong, healthy appearance, with his short, messy, raven locks, as was the boy who lived. Harry grew his hair out till past his chin, an inch above his shoulders. His skin was as pale as ever, and he had a skinny frame, making him look slightly unhealthy. Like someone on the brink of death.

Finally, it seemed as if she'd approved of him, "Harry, is it? You must be ten. The same age as my son, Blaise. I'm sure he'd enjoy your company." she waved her son over. He was a tall, dark skinned boy, who appeared to be uncomfortable in his fancy robes.

"Yes mother," he said, ignoring Harry and the rest.

"This is Harry Potter,"

Blaise's eyes widened when he realized who he was, but thankfully, he didn't say anything other than, "Nice to meet you Harry, would you like to see my room?"

Harry smiled at his luck. Making friends in the wizarding world had been harder to tackle than making friends in the Muggle world. This would be his chance.

"Sure. I would love to,"

Blaise started walking towards the hall, gesturing for Harry to follow.

"The adults are so boring with their etiquette crap. The rest of the kids are hanging out in my room,"

Grateful that Blaise hadn't spouted any crap like 'Are you really Harry Potter?' He replied, "I suck at etiquette. But at least I have an excuse since I'm at a muggle boarding school most of the year,"

Harry came to a stop behind Blaise.

"I'll bet you got to listen to tons of music at that Muggle school of yours," Blaise said, pulling open the door to his room, "Music is the only thing by Muggles that I can stand,"

"You could say that again," a silky voice cut in. A group of children were lounging in Blaise's room. Two girls leaned against the bed, and the boy who'd spoken had headphones plugged in.

"This is Harry Potter, guys," Introduced Blaise.

"Wait! THE Harry Potter?" Blurted out the girl dressed in elegant purple robes.

"I didn't know there was more than one," Harry said blandly.

"This is Pansy," Blaise gestured at the girl who'd just spoken.

"I'm Millicent,"

"Draco," nodded the boy with the headphones.

"What're you listening to?" Harry asked, pulling a chair up next to Draco.

"MCR"

Harry did the secret emo handshake with Draco. (Sorry, just had to)

"I don't know what that is, but it's probably better than the horrible 'formal' music being played out there," Millicent said.

A sudden thought struck Harry, and an mischievous grin split across his face, "What do you think would happen if we blasted 'This is Halloween' through the speakers?"

Pansy blinked at him.

"Oh, you're definitely Potter's son, alright,"

Harry flinched when he heard his father's name. Blaise noticed, but didn't comment.

"Well? Are we going to do this?"

"My father's going to kill me," Draco groaned, but he was already getting up.

At the end of that night, it was Harry's father who nearly killed him. James went farther then he ever had before. For whatever reason it was, the days following Hallows eve were always the worst. It had been stupid to provoke him at this time of the year, Harry admitted. But as he lay on the floor coughing blood over his broken ribs, he decided that the wild glint that had shone on his friend's eyes made it worth it.