A/N: Ok, this chapter takes place at the start of Charlie's first year. I realize that at this point, you may not have the relative ages of the different characters down, but I think that this is made clear in context whenever it actually matters, so you should be fine. Also, I would like to thank Gigifanfic, who pointed out an inconsistency in the first chapter which I have since revised (I also corrected an oversight that I found myself, but both are relatively minor, so you don't really have to reread). Thanks also to my other reviewers, "mixedupmessedupbooks," "Kolena," "lizhasredhair" and "Wolf's Scream." I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter.
Chapter 2:
The Slytherin Misfits
Looking back on it years later, Charlie Potter would determine that his first 24 hours at Hogwarts had been the most important. It had been an odd whirlwind of emotions, but the consequences of that day had determined so much of the rest of his experience at Hogwarts, and indeed, in the rest of his life in general.
The first train-ride to Hogwarts had been a very pleasant affair for him. He'd been in a compartment with seven of his cousins, plus the Lupin brothers, and aside from the absence of the younger children, the atmosphere in that compartment was much like that at the Burrow, where all of those present had spent so many days over the previous summer.
When Theodore Malfoy poked his head into the compartment briefly, along with Knott and Zabini, they all quickly turned and left.
"Must've been looking for some first-years to pick on," said Sirius.
"They know they can't get away with picking on anybody in their own year, like us," said John.
"Maybe we should go after them," suggested Phillip.
"Yeah," agreed his twin, Andrew. "You know, just to make sure they don't get out of hand."
"Do you really have to go getting in trouble before we even get to Hogwarts?" Kathy asked severely.
John rolled his eyes. "Really, now, Aunt Hermione, loosen up a bit, would you?"
As much as all Hermione's nieces and nephews adored their aunt, they had always been a bit disturbed about how much Kathy took after her mother.
"Oh, come on, don't be like that, I just think we should all spend this time together. I might not get to talk to you lot for weeks, now that we're going to be at school again. Sometimes it's downright annoying being in Ravenclaw," said Kathy.
"Oh, don't worry," said Patricia, Bill and Fleur's second child, who was about to start her first year at school, "maybe one of us will get sorted into Ravenclaw with you."
Charlie thought that this was a nice sentiment for his cousin to express, but knew that he would be rather disappointed if he were to be sorted into Ravenclaw. He had always seen himself in Gryffindor.
When he heard all the stories about his father (mostly from his mother, as his father was personally a bit too modest to talk about his own triumphs too much) he had gotten the distinct impression that Gryffindor was the best house to be in. At the very least, it seemed like the house that was best to go in if you wanted to show that you were brave. And Charlie wanted to do just that, because in spite of his young age, he had recently gotten it into his head that it was his duty to carry on the Potter name, in the tradition of the notable James Potter, and the almost legendary Harry Potter.
In spite of how comfortable he was, surrounded with his cousins, and the Lupins, who he thought of as almost honorary cousins, Charlie didn't speak too much during the first part of the ride to Hogwarts.
"Why're you so quiet?" Patricia asked eventually, coming to sit next to him while the larger conversation went on around them.
He just smiled and said, "I don't know, the conversation seemed to be doing just fine without me."
It was true. The other cousins were mostly talking about Quidditch, and who would try out this year. Most of the third years present were already on a team, and most of the second years were planning to try out. Since the first years were not allowed to have brooms on campus, trying out for Quidditch wasn't really an option. So, under the circumstances, there really wasn't that much for Charlie to contribute, besides which, when so many of the older Weasley-cousins got together, it sometimes was difficult for one to get a word in edgewise.
"Yeah, well... We could talk about something other than Quidditch. What do you think it'll be like to have Aunt Hermione as a professor?" she asked.
Charlie laughed a bit at the thought. "It's going to be tough," said Charlie. "I mean, we'll have to take her seriously, of course, but after hearing the way Uncle Ron talks to my Dad about her sometimes, it could be difficult."
Patricia giggled. "He pops over to our house sometimes to complain, too. Used to wake me up nights, sometimes. I'd be lying in bed hearing how 'Hermione's so bloody anal-retentive!' I asked my mum the next day what anal-retentive meant, and she wouldn't tell me. Ended up asking John, 'cause I thought it might be a curse-word."
It was common knowledge among the grandchildren of Arthur and Molly Weasley that when it came to learning the meaning of forbidden words, Patricia's brother John was the go-to guy.
"You're so lucky he's your older brother," said Charlie, glancing over at John, who had gotten his broom out of its trunk and seemed to be reenacting a particularly splendid moment of Gryffindor Quidditch-history, albeit on the ground, since the ceiling of the compartment was far too low to allow for any type of aerial performance.
"Eh, I'll agree with you in general," acknowledged Patricia, "although, if you're ever in the mood for peace and quiet, he can be rather a chore."
Charlie eyed her suspiciously, to confirm that he was in fact speaking to a Weasley. Granted, simply looking at her didn't do terribly much to confirm this, given that she had blond hair. In spite of the increasing genetic diversity of the Weasley family, she was still the only one of them whose hair was actually blond. "But why would you ever be in the mood for peace and quiet?"
Patricia laughed. "I don't know... If I'm sick or something, I guess?"
When the food trolley came around each of those present fished in their pockets for a couple of sickles from the spending money that their parents had given them for the term and purchased a huge communal pile of cauldron-cakes, pumpkin pasties, Bert's Every Flavor Beans, and, of course, chocolate frogs.
Two hours later, the train pulled in to Hogsmeade station, and Charlie, Paul Weasley, Glen Lupin, and Patricia shared a boat across the lake to Hogwarts. Hagrid, who was on the boat in front of them, yelled at one point to Charlie, "You must be Charlie Potter, then, eh? You look just like your father did in is first year... 'Course, you haven't got a scar..." Charlie had never met Hagrid, although his father sometimes visited him.
When they got to the castle, his Aunt Hermione, who was now the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, was the one who directed them into the small room off the Great Hall and told them to get into alphabetical order.
Lupin went up toward the middle of the line, and there were about ten people between Charlie and the Weasleys. There were about sixty different first years in the room.
It was at that time that Charlie first began to realize just how big a place Hogwarts was, and how many people were there, so many of whom he had never met before. He started to get a bit nervous, and looked back toward Patricia.
She smiled warmly at him, and he felt a little bit better. He, Kathy, and Patricia were pretty close, since both he and Kathy spent a good bit of time at Patricia's house. Hermione and Ron were usually at the school, although they had been allowed to live with their children in Hogsmeade rather than staying in Hogwarts Castle as was customary for professors. Ginny and Harry were often off on simultaneous patrols as aurors. Thus, Fleur, who was a stay at home mum had often babysat Kathy and her siblings as well as Charlie and his. With John often off with his friends, Kathy, Patricia, and Charlie had spent a lot of time together over the years, as the oldest kids present. Last year especially, with Kathy already off in her first year at Hogwarts, Patricia and he had gotten to know each other rather well. He hoped that they wouldn't get placed in separate houses.
The bright side of Kathy having been to Hogwarts before them was that she had told them all about the sorting ceremony, which left Charlie immune to all the speculation around him about whether they might have to kill a troll and ride a unicorn, or vice versa. Still, having a hat decide so much about a person's destiny was rather daunting.
When they were led out to the Great Hall, Charlie got a bit of stage-fright. He was pretty sure he heard people muttering the name 'Potter'. It was nothing like his father had had to deal with, of course, but a certain amount of celebrity status came with the territory of being the son of the most famous wizard alive, no matter much his father had tried to minimize this. Charlie admired his father a great deal, but he sometimes resented living in his shadow so much, in spite of how young he still was. Whenever they had gone to Diagon Alley, which they had done a fair amount as Charlie was growing up, well-intentioned people would congratulate him on how lucky he was to have a father like Harry Potter. Of course, they weren't wrong, he was an excellent father and all, but Charlie wanted to make his own name for himself.
And the day when he finally had the opportunity to start making his own name for himself, he was being muttered about, no doubt in reference to his father.
Charlie felt his eyes roll.
Hermione put the Sorting Hat on a small stool, and it began to sing,
"You should all know that today is an important day,
So much of your lives depend on what I say,
Oh what great power will be mine,
I will determine with whom you dine,
I will decide who will be in your classes,
And whom you will ask to pass the molasses,
Will you end up in the House of Gryffindor's lion,
Where dwell those with the least fear of dyin'?
Will you end up in the house with Ravenclaw's bird,
Where people study so much it's really absurd?
You might end up in the house of good Hufflepuff,
If perseverance and hard work are your stuff,
And in the house of great Slytherin's snake,
Will be those who do anything for their goals' sake.
So hear what I say and then don't hesitate,
To go to your house and find your new best mate."
The Hall erupted into cheers after the hat finished, then, after Avery, Roger, was put into Hufflepuff, that house burst into cheers again.
Charlie retreated into his own thoughts for a bit, simply making note of who was put into Gryffindor, which was the House where Charlie expected he'd be put. When it came to be Glen Lupin's turn, Charlie watched attentively, but was quite unsurprised to see him put into Gryffindor. Then, a couple minutes later, Charlie came forward to try on the hat himself, and that's when the real surprises started.
The hat was silent for a moment when it was put on Charlie's head. He had rather expected it to call out "Gryffindor" immediately, as it had done for Lupin. Charlie wondered what it was thinking.
"Wonder what I'm thinking, do you?" the sorting hat asked so that only Charlie could hear.
Er... Yes, thought Charlie.
"You're a tough one to place, you are," replied the sorting hat.
Really? I would've thought Gryffindor for sure. That's where both my parents went.
"Yes, of course. I remember. I've also placed several of your cousins there. And that would be the easy choice. But you don't strike me as one who would go for the easy choice," said the sorting hat.
What do you mean? wondered Charlie.
"Well, in Gryffindor, I suspect you'd do just fine. But you're a lot like a Slytherin in some ways, too. You have the potential to be quite cunning and calculating. But you also have a good heart. Still, seven years in Slytherin would do a lot for you. I will say this: You would make a good Gryffindor. But, if you're a Slytherin, you could be great," advised the Sorting Hat.
Great and good? asked Charlie. He was wondering whether becoming a Slytherin would corrupt the 'good heart' that the hat had mentioned. He wouldn't mind being great, he figured, but he didn't want to do it if it would mean that he would lose that goodness which he had come to identify with Gryffindors, the Weasleys, and his parents in particular.
"Yes, you could be great and good. Whether or not you're good is always your own choice, no matter what house you're in," responded the hat.
Then, Charlie made a decision that he would think about many times over the next years. Well. Make it Slytherin, then.
The hat called out, "Slytherin!" Charlie took off the hat.
After that, there was a stunned silence from the Great Hall. The entire Gryffindor table had been tensing itself to cheer, figuring that the son of Harry Potter was a sure thing for the Gryffindor camp, especially with so many of his cousins already among them.
The Slytherin table took a while to decide whether or not it should cheer.
Phillip and Andrew Weasley, who, like their father, were never much ones for awkward silences called out, "We'll take him if you don't want him!"
At that point, a few Slytherins started to cheer, most of them half-heartedly. Several actually booed.
Charlie hesitated for a moment, wondering why in the world he had just chosen to go into Slytherin. What did "great" mean, anyhow, and would it be worth being put in a house where people were actually booing his being sorted into their house?
At that point, Charlie gritted his teeth, knowing that the decision had already been made. He made his way off to his table to sit down, although he did have the sense to make his way over to a part of the table where people had been cheering instead of booing.
A couple people sitting around him seemed to think that the most tactful thing they could stomach doing for him was to be silent, but a pretty girl with black hair whom he was sitting next to turned out to be the first Slytherin who he ever met in person.
She stuck out her hand to shake his, saying, "Hi, my name is Daphne Zachary."
Charlie smiled at her as he took her hand. "Hi." After they released hands, he asked, "What year are you in, then?"
"Third."
"Oh, so you got to pick some of your own classes this year, then?" asked Charlie, who had heard about the process from John, Sirius, and Benjamin.
"Yes, I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes," she said. They were talking in hushed tones, as the sorting was still going on.
"Runes, huh? Sounds tough," he said.
"I s'pose," she replied. They were quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you a silly question?"
He groaned inwardly, expecting something about his father. But he nodded anyway. After all, Daphne was the first person in Slytherin showing any sign of being civil toward him, so he reckoned he'd do best to return the favor.
"Did the Sorting Hat say anything to you, when it was quiet? You know, sort of debating its decision?" she asked.
"Er, yeah," said Charlie.
Daphne grinned. "It did that with me, too. I don't really want to talk right now about what it said to me, so I won't ask you to tell me what it said to you either, but maybe someday, when we know each other better, we can talk to each other about it. You reckon?"
"Sure," said Charlie, who was pleased that Daphne expected that they'd be getting to know each other better, in spite of the fact that she was two years older than him. He hadn't been too sure about how much of a factor age would be in determining social circles at Hogwarts.
"You probably want to pay attention, now... Only one more before your cousin there," said Daphne, pointing to Paul, whose red hair, coupled with his position toward the end of the line, identified him unmistakably as a Weasley.
"Oh, wow, you're right. That one's my cousin, too, actually. Her name's Patricia," said Charlie, right before Hermione called her name.
The hat sat on her head for a few moments, too, and for several hopeful seconds, Charlie wondered whether she might somehow be placed into Slytherin as well. There proved to be no such luck, however, as she was placed into Ravenclaw. That would make Kathy happy, at least.
Paul was sorted into Gryffindor the moment the hat touched his head.
"Must've been judging by his hair," joked Daphne with a grin, as the Gryffindor table cheered and Paul went to claim a seat beside Glen.
Soon, Headmistress McGonagall opened the dinner with a short speech.
"So how is it, being in Slytherin?" asked Charlie in somewhat hushed tones. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone else in the house to hear him sounding like he was doubting Slytherin's supremacy, but they seemed to be absorbed enough in their own conversations, which involved neither him nor Daphne, to notice.
"Don't rightly know, I suppose," Daphne responded. "I never have fit in properly with the Slytherins. I go to club meetings just to get out of the common room, and I'm in the library more often than some of the Ravenclaws." She looked around the table and hushed her voice even further. "But, I've found that if I ignore them, they're content to ignore me, too. Mostly, they compete amongst themselves, and try to preserve their power and popularity-structures. Since I've carefully positioned myself in the library, far from the competitions and whatnot, they don't seem too concerned about me. 'Course, I'm sorry to say, you might not get off so easy... They didn't boo me when I got sorted."
Charlie shook his head. "Thanks for not booing, by the way," he said.
"I wouldn't do something like that," said Daphne.
"Well, that's good," said Charlie. "I figure I might end up spending a good bit of time with you in the library this term."
Daphne smiled. "I'm always open to company."
"Glad to hear it," said Charlie.
They spent the rest of the meal in friendly conversation, and by the end of the meal, Charlie judged that being in Slytherin might not be quite as bad as the booing had implied.
But then, when he got up to his bunk at the end of the night, with five other Slytherin first years, he thought he might have to reevaluate this optimistic outlook.
He only remembered one of the names of the other first year Slytherins, so far, and that was Arthur Crabbe. He had remembered the first name because it was his grandfathers' first name, and the last name because he remembered from the stories about Harry's youth that Ginny had told him at bedtime when he was younger that Crabbe was the name of one of Malfoy's infamous cronies.
Surprisingly to Charlie, he was the only one who didn't crack a joke of some kind at his expense. The most benign of these jokes had been to ask whether he had gotten lost on the way to the Gryffindor common room, and the most notably hostile one was when one of his roommates asked whether he reckoned that he had inherited his father's ability to reflect the Avada Kedavra curse, pointing his wand at him menacingly.
"You couldn't possibly be able to use such advanced magic yet, we haven't even had class," said Charlie, who had by this point determined that ignoring them wasn't going to work and that he would have to do his best to hold his own.
"Well, I would test it out," replied the one making the threat, "but I reckon they'd expel me if I killed you the first night."
At that point, they chose their beds, and Charlie made a point to choose one as far as possible from the kid who he had began to refer to as "Avada-boy" in his mind.
Well, thought Charlie, as he trailed off to sleep, this is going to be quite a year.
The next morning, Charlie woke up early, and went off to the shower, which the prefects had shown the first years the night before. He was hoping to get down to breakfast before most of the other Slytherins, as he was trying to give Daphne's 'ignoring them' policy at least one more try.
After he had dressed and was making his way through the dungeons up to the Great Hall, Charlie encountered the last two people who he would have expected to see in the dungeons, John and Sirius.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, as they began to accompany him on his walk up toward the Great Hall.
"You haven't taken a shower yet, have you?" asked John.
"Er, what?" asked Charlie.
"Have you taken a shower?" repeated Sirius, slower.
"Yes," said Charlie, who wondered where exactly this line of question was heading.
"I reckon you didn't use the third stall from the left, then?" asked John.
"I don't remember," said Charlie, who was beginning to wonder just why his cousin and his best friend were taking such a keen interest in the details of his shower.
"Hm, well. Remember from now on that you oughtn't to use that one. One in three times, the showerhead emits snails, rather than water."
"Snails?" asked Charlie, quizzically. "Like those things we find in Grandma's garden sometimes?"
"With the beards and the hats? Those are gnomes, but good try." said John jokingly.
"It'd be rather difficult to get gnomes to come out of the showerheads," explained Sirius helpfully.
"No, I mean, the tiny things with the shells," replied Charlie.
"Oh, yes," said Sirius. "Those. Although they haven't got shells when they're coming out of the showerhead."
"Why in the world do snails sometimes come out of a Slytherin showerhead?" asked Charlie.
"'Cause we're geniuses," said Sirius.
"Modest geniuses," specified John.
"But seriously, it's tough magic," said Sirius. "And then there was the bit about actually getting in to the Slytherin shower. But we managed."
"So you're telling me that in second year, at an age when certain of your relatives were figuring out how to foil a basilisk, you were charming showers to spray snails at people?" Charlie asked John.
"Precisely. Actually, we'll be interested to know when it finally gets fixed. We heard grumblings about snails in the shower toward the end of last year, so we know they hadn't figured out how to stop it from happening by then. But it doesn't seem to be inconveniencing them enough for them to try to stop it," said John.
"How could you know that?" asked Charlie. "Maybe they tried and it and it just didn't work."
"No, they must've just tried another shower," said Sirius. "Because we made it so that if anyone tries to actually lift the curse, there's another curse already on the showerhead that should make it shoot out pus. And we haven't heard anyone talk about pus."
"We think it's because the Slytherins don't shower enough for it to matter. In fact, that was our point in doing this in the first place," claimed John.
"Well, that and to get the Slytherins covered with snails. But also to make a statement about their personal hygiene," confirmed Sirius.
By this point, they had made it to the Great Hall.
"Well, then. Have a good breakfast," said John.
"Yes. We'd love to stay here and chat, but we must proceed to the Gryffindor table where we shall endeavor to think of ways to make garden gnomes come out of Slytherin shower-heads," said Sirius.
Charlie, shaking his head and grinning, found a remote seat at the nearly deserted Slytherin table.
After eating for a couple minutes in silence, Charlie looked up and was surprised to find Arthur Crabbe approaching the chair across from him.
"Mind if I sit here?" asked Crabbe in a voice more polite than Charlie would've expected.
Charlie eyed him suspiciously. "I suppose not," he said, cautiously.
"You don't have to be so suspicious," said Crabbe, as he sat down.
Charlie decided to take him at face-value on this for the moment. "Sorry, but my experience with Slytherins so far has left me a bit cautious."
"Yeah, they were pretty rough on you last night," agreed Crabbe.
"Too true," agreed Charlie. "So I suppose you're different from them?"
"I like to think so," responded Crabbe. "I guess you're right to be surprised, especially since you've probably heard of my father. But he was always a good bit more dumb than he was aggressively evil, and he ended up marrying a decent witch, who, in my opinion, must've been a bit desperate at the time. Still, he died in some odd magical accident when I was young, and I've been raised by my mother and her parents since then. So I like to think of myself as being as different from him as possible."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear about your father dying young," said Charlie sincerely.
"Yes, well. It happened a long time ago," said Crabbe.
There was a short awkward silence.
"Have they passed schedules out yet?" asked Crabbe after a moment.
"Not yet," replied Charlie.
"Hmm... Wonder what we'll have first," said Crabbe.
"I hope its Transfiguration or Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Charlie, who reckoned that having his first class with either his aunt or uncle might help ease the transition into being a Hogwarts student.
At that point, Daphne reached the table and sat down next to Charlie.
"Good morning, Daphne," said Charlie.
"G'morning. Who's this?" she asked, motioning to Crabbe.
"Arthur Crabbe," said Charlie.
"Nice to meet you, Arthur," said Daphne, shaking his hand. "I'm Daphne, as Charlie already mentioned."
"Nice to meet you, too," said Arthur.
They had a good breakfast conversation, after that. At one point, when they realized that most of the Slytherin table was full, aside from the seats directly surrounding them, Arthur declared, "Looks like we're the Slytherin misfits!"
That may have been the case, but, as Charlie would know later as he was looking back on his first hours at Hogwarts, he had already made two of the best friends he would ever find.
A/N: Well then. Pretty long chapter, for whatever that's worth. So, hopefully this chapter gives a bit of a better idea of what this story will be like. Basically, it'll have different 'episodes' from out of one particular character's life during each chapter. Please review and let me know whether you think this story's worth continuing. It'd be especially helpful to me if you could let me know if there are any characters you especially want to see in future chapters, so I can think of a chapter about them. Also, if there was anything you particularly liked about this chapter, let me know... Also... I'm trying to of what to classify this story as. Does anyone think it's funny enough yet to be in humor?