Harry and Melanie: First Cry to Final Breath
Summary: Harry and Melanie Potter have endured a childhood harsher than most could imagine. But they aren't about to let you know that. These two heroes of the wizarding world are sorted into Snape's counsel group upon their arrival to Hogwarts, but are determined to run their own lives. But will they even survive their first year?
Disclaimer: All characters that you recognize are the property of J.K. Rowling.
A/N: Chapter two :) I skipped their childhood but you'll gradually get hints about it. Or I might just have one of them explain it next chapter. Not sure yet. Thanks! Hope you like it!
Chapter 2: A Whole New World
September 1st, 1991
King's Cross Train Station
Melanie tugged at the neck of her sweater, part of her new dress code for her new school. She most certainly wasn't used to the feel of new clothes against her skin and, even though she was loath to admit it, she somehow preferred the soft, worn feel of clothes that had been broken in before ever reaching her. Melanie glanced over at her twin who was looking equally uncomfortable in his well-fitting, newly starched pants.
They sat in tense silence all the way to the train station. In fact, the Dursley's had barely said two words to the twins since Hagrid showed up, revealing the truth and completely altering their world. Finally, the car pulled into the station and Harry practically shot out of his door and headed to the back where he pulled out both trunks and the owl cage that carrying the first real present either of them had ever gotten. As each dragged their own trunk to the curb, Harry balancing Hedwig's cage on top of his, Uncle Vernon rolled down the window, leaned his considerable girth across Aunt Petunia in the front seat, and smirked.
"Have fun at your freaky school. Trust me, you won't be wanted there either. But don't come crying back to our doorstep until June, you hear?" He snarled, accidentally spitting a little onto Aunt Petunia's lap. Then, ignoring Harry's snort and roll of eyes, he rolled up the window and sped away, leaving the two of them behind on the curb, alone, as they had always been.
"C'mon, we have to find platform 9 ¾," Harry said, setting off down the sidewalk towards the entrance to the train station. Still tugging at her collar, Melanie followed mutely behind. Ten years of Uncle Vernon and his pitiful threats had taught her better but, somehow, as she watched their car whip out onto the highway with all of its occupants probably thrilled to be rid of the twins earlier than expected, Melanie couldn't help but wonder if he was right.
September 1st, 1991
King's Cross Train Station
Harry stared frustratingly at the barrier between platform 9 and 10. There was obviously no room for another track between them and it wasn't listed on any of the signs. Harry had finally resorted to asking one of the security people, but he had glared and told him not to waste his time. Melanie was sitting on top of her trunk, poking her fingers in between the bars of Hedwig's cage. Her blonde hair, always such a contrast to his own dark mop, had fallen into her face and the way she had curled her body up, as if trying not to be noticed, made her look every bit the child that she was.
"How did Hagrid not explain this part?" Harry finally muttered angrily, flopping down on his own trunk. They had only twenty minutes but had exhausted all of their options.
"Well, he was really nice and all, but he didn't exactly seem like the brightest tool in the shed," Melanie said matter-of-factly with a shrug of her small shoulders. "Maybe it just appears at 11?" she suggested hopefully.
"Maybe," Harry said, but the doubt was evident in his voice. "But if it doesn't then we'll miss the train." As Harry glanced back at Mel, he noticed his words had put some fear into her eyes. Harry knew by the feeling in his own stomach it was probably in his eyes too. For all the apprehensions the twins had about just entering this new world without a clue, trusting people (which was against their first rule of survival) their had met only a few weeks prior, they both had some hope (which was against their second rule of survival) that it would be a better world then their first one. But it couldn't be an improvement if they couldn't even get there.
Just as Harry was about to go try to find a less irritable security guard, a conversation caught his ear.
"C'mon, c'mon, we can't be late. We still need to get onto the platform. And Fred, don't you dare leave one of your "inventions" where any muggle could pick it up, you hear?" Muggle? Didn't Hagrid use that word? Melanie had heard it too as she was now staring, wide-eyed, at the source of the voice, a short, plump woman with flaming red hair, surrounded by five other bobbing heads of similar tones.
"Alright Percy, you go first," the woman said. The tallest of the kids stepped forward. Throughout his childhood, Harry had gotten pretty good at reading people and this kid, just by the way he held himself and jutted out his chest, was obviously arrogant and snobbish. Pulling his trunk, he moved toward the barrier, getting closer and closer until suddenly… he was gone.
"Where did he go?" Harry whispered to Melanie.
"I dunno, he just like went poof or something," she murmured back. She was staring confusedly at the place where he had vanished.
"Fred, George, you go next," the woman said, her loud voice easily carrying over to us. Two identical boys who looked a couple of years older than Harry and Melanie stepped forward, moved towards where the Percy kid had gone and, just like that, they were gone too. Seeing their chances depleting as quickly as the concentration of redheads on the platform, and unable to figure it out on their own, Harry was forced to do something that Harry despised: ask an adult for help. A stranger nonetheless. Well weren't they just breaking all the rules today.
Determined, Harry stepped hastily forward, pulling his trunk along with it. Harry heard Melanie following behind, but keeping behind him. She would let him do the talking. She always did during one of her "bad times", as Harry had so originally dubbed them.
"Uhm, excuse me ma'am," Harry said quietly, when he had gotten close enough. She quickly glanced over and, seeing his Hogwarts uniform, smiled warmly. "Do you think you could tell us how to get onto the platform?"
"Sure, sure dearie, it's quite easy actually. All you do is move towards the brick barrier right here. Best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous," She kept smiling at us. Harry immediately warmed up to her but still, Harry doubted her a bit.
"So we just run straight into the brick wall?" Harry said hesitantly, not wanting to be rude.
She laughed. "I know it seems weird but I promise it's really easy."
Harry glanced back at Melanie to see that she was staring at the wall dubiously. She caught his eye and shrugged her shoulders, smiling the least bit. Harry smiled back. Maybe this bad time would be a short one. Harry turned back to the woman to see her staring at the two of them strangely.
"Tell me, aren't your parents here with you?" She asked curiously. Three believable lies and a "none of your business" comment immediately jumped into his throat but Harry caught them before they came out. What if this person already knew about them? Everybody in this world was supposed to and he hated that fact.
Instead, he casually smoothed down his hair and smiled. "No, they aren't. Thanks so much for your help."
Obviously a little disappointed at his lack of response and still a little curious about the two young children alone on the platform, she smiled and said "No problem. Here you can go before Ron here." Harry glanced at Ron to see that he seemed to be about the twins' age, even though he was a good six inches taller than him.
"Thanks," Harry said again. Harry grabbed his trunk in one hand and Melanie's hand with the other and walked towards that barrier. He was still doubtful but they really had no other choice. They broke into a run towards the barrier, and together, somehow, entered the wizarding world.
September 1st, 1991
Platform 9 ¾
The platform was noisy, crowded and smoky. Three of her favorite things… if only. Feeling the claustrophobia start to creep up her neck, Melanie moved hastily to keep up with her brother, who was heading for the closest entrance to the train. Several people walked into her, one spilling some water down her arm, and one tipping her trunk on its side. Harry glanced back to see if Melanie was ok, and Melanie shot him a desperate look. Melanie knew it wasn't right to make him do everything today, but there were just so many people and, as far as Melanie could tell, every single one was a lot bigger than herself. Harry, momentarily abandoning his own trunk, seized Mel's and righted it, pulling it over to his own. Then pulling both of them while Melanie followed behind, trying not to have a panic attack, they made their way towards the train. Just as they got to an entrance, one of the redheaded twins popped out and, seeing Harry pulling two trunks and an owl cage and Melanie, obviously flustered, looked sympathetic. Melanie quickly tried to compose herself. The twins hated pity.
"Hey there, you want some help?" The twin offered kindly. Harry, looking torn between frustration and unwillingness to accept charity, hesitated for a second. Then, conceding, he agreed.
"Yes, please," he said as the twin took one of the trunks.
"Oi George, come over here," the twin that must be Fred yelled. A second later, there were two of them and, three minutes later, they, with Harry's help, had dragged both trunks on the train and into an empty compartment in the back. Once in the compartment, Melanie sat down, happy to be away from all of the people.
"There you go," George said, as he finished hoisting her trunk into the overhead compartment. "I'm George, by the way, and this if Fred. We're going to be third years."
Harry smiled. "Nice to meet you. Thanks for all of your help." He hesitated and Melanie knew he was unwilling to reveal their names. With a slight resigned sigh, he continued, "I'm Harry and this is my sister Melanie. We're just starting Hogwarts."
"Wait a second," Fred said, a strange look on his face, "Harry and Melanie? As in, Harry and Melanie Potter?"
"Yeah," Harry said, almost regretfully.
"Bloody hell, I can't believe we just met the Potter twins! Do you really have those scars?" George asked excitedly. Harry simply nodded and pushed up his bangs as Melanie brushed her hair away from her forehead, revealing identical lightning shaped scars. The other twins just stared in amazement until the shrill voice of their mother sounded through the open window. Then, still grinning widely, they left and headed back to the platform. Harry and Melanie could hear them talking excitedly and knew it was about them. Harry stood and shut the window, knowing that neither of them wanted to listen.
September 1st, 1991
Hogwart's Express
The train was chugging along, through the countryside, when it started to rain. While the sound was soothing, Harry couldn't help but fear that the storm clouds that crowded the sky were a bad omen for the next seven years. Wizards believe in omens, didn't they? Well, hopefully this just wasn't one.
Melanie had curled up on the seat, her feet below her and her face pressed against the window. In the poor lighting and on the dreary day, she looked awfully pale and her cheekbones seemed to stick out at an eerie angle. Well, Harry thought ruefully, if everything else sucks about this place, at least they'd be getting three meals a day. He thought.
He tore his eyes away from his sister, who looked more like a seven year old than the eleven year old that she was, as the door to their compartment opened. It took Melanie a few seconds to look up. Delayed reflexes were always part of her bad times. Standing in the door was the redheaded boy named Ron.
"Hey, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full and my brothers won't let me in their compartment," he said, with a bitter tone to his voice, and then, he blushed, as if he had revealed too much. Harry just nodded silently, more interested in Melanie's reaction to our visitor than the actual kid. She was staring at him with her bright green eyes, the trait the twins shared, but hers seemed unnaturally hollow. But then she glanced at me and, almost as if she realized what Harry was looking at, she smiled slightly and some feeling reentered her bright orbs. Ron sat down hesitantly on his side of the bench.
"I'm Ron Weasley," he said, smiling widely. He stuck out his hand for me to shake.
"Harry," Harry said as he reached to reciprocate his gesture.
"I'm Melanie," Melanie said softly. Harry jumped slightly; her voice surprised me. She doesn't normally talk to anyone but me during these times. Harry smiled, wider this time. It was looking like this one would be a short one.
Melanie had been having "bad times" for as long as Harry can remember. Most of the time, she is exuberant and energetic. She doesn't mind talking to people and always has the best comebacks. But sometimes, she simply withdraws into herself and it takes a long time to get the real Melanie back. It's understandable, with all that we've been through. There is no pattern or schedule for the bad times; they come and they go. The average length is about three days to a week. The longest was three and a half months where she didn't talk to anyone but me, and even that, rarely, and it was a constant struggle to get her to eat whenever we actually had the opportunity. The way Harry saw it, he and Melanie just have different tactics when it comes to their emotional well-being. He lets more things effect him when they happen, but mildly, whereas Melanie always bounces right back up to her optimistic self so quickly that all of the emotions that she shoves away and ignores all come tumbling back days, weeks or even months later, culminating in a dark period. Not that Harry would tell her this theory though. Harry knew better than to try to interfere with how she deals with things, as long as she does.
"So, are you really Harry and Melanie Potter? Fred and George said you were but they often lie to make me look like an idiot," Ron blurted. Once again, he seemed to have said too much and the tips of his ears went red.
"Yeah, we are," Harry said firmly.
"Cool," Ron said, but apparently smart enough to take his tone for what it was, he left it at that and pulled out a deck of cards. "Want to play exploding snap?"
September 1st, 1991
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
The day passed smoothly. Ron was amusing to have around and he knew a lot about the wizarding world that he shared. Melanie was actually enjoying herself, talking and everything, a difference that Harry could see and made him happy, which in turn made her even happier. It was, for once, a good circle.
It was nighttime by the time they arrived at Hogwarts. The twins, along with all of the first-years, followed Hagrid in little boats across the lake. It was cold and wet but at least, thankfully, it had stopped raining. When they had finally made it to the castle, Melanie was shocked.
It literally looked like it had been taken right out of a fairy tale. She half expected Rapunzel to drape her long blonde hair out of one of the steep towers raising up over the walled fortress. The entrance hall was equally as impressive, with a giant marble staircase that, somehow, moved. It was spectacular to watch but Melanie would not want to be on it when it was changing placement.
"All first years must wait here for the sorting ceremony to begin," a tall, skinny woman with a commanding voice yelled over the din that seemed inevitable when you shove several dozen adolescents in one place.
She turned to Harry. "Sorting ceremony? What's that?"
Harry looked just as confused as Melanie was but Ron, eager to help, jumped in. "All students are sorted into four houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. It's based on your personality. Gryffindor's are brave, Slytherin's are supposed to be cunning but that's really just another word for evil, Ravenclaw's are really smart, and Hufflepuff's are pretty much everybody else," Ron said decisively, as if that were all there was to it. Somehow, Melanie doubted it.
"What house do you-," Harry began, but was cut off by a slow drawl from behind him that immediately and unexplainably made Melanie's skin tingle.
"Well, well, well. The rumors are true then. Harry and Melanie Potter have come to Hogwarts." Melanie turned to see a bleach blonde boy, who looked familiar in a way that she just couldn't place. He was a little taller than Harry and had two other boys who were about Dudley's size flanking him on either side.
Harry looked at him and met his eyes fearlessly, even though the other boy's tone obviously had not been warm and fuzzy. He also shifted imperceptibly so he was slightly blocking his sister from the three boys. Melanie huffed in indignation and moved forward to stand beside him.
The blonde boy watched them during these few seconds curiously, almost as if he were trying to see right through them. Then, "I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy," he said, pride lacing his words. Melanie heard a muffled snort from behind her. Draco, irritated, spat, "You think my name's funny? No need to ask you yours. Red hair, hand-me-down cloths and not an ounce of self respect about you; you must be a Weasley." He uttered the last word as if it were something disgusting. Melanie immediately felt Harry tense beside her as Ron scowled at the blonde.
"What do you want?" Harry ground out.
"You shouldn't be hanging around with people like him," Draco said, complete with a head nod towards Ron. "They are unimportant. I can help you choose the right people, more suitable people, as friends." He put out his hand for them to shake. Melanie had to admit, she was kind of impressed with the kid. He somehow managed to say horrible things about the only friend they had made in the wizarding world and yet still come off sounding as if he was doing them a favor. She rolled her eyes.
"I think we can choose our own friends, thanks," Melanie said, ignoring the proffered hand. A look of shock and then anger came over Draco's face, just as two huge doors to her right opened revealing a huge room. There were four tables stretched along the length of the hall and another at the front, all under a magnificent yet stormy ceiling. In between the tables at the front of the hall was a stool with a ragged hat on it.
September 1st, 1991
Great Hall
All of the first years were ushered into the Great Hall. Aside from the shuffling of shoes on the stone floor, very little noise was heard. They were all probably too tense about the upcoming ceremony to be rambunctious, as the adults affectionately called it. Harry and Mel were at the edge of the crowd but blended in easily, both because everybody was wearing the same thing and because they were well practiced at the art of keeping attention from them.
The group came to a stop in the center aisle of the Great Hall, about fifteen feet or so back from the hat. Harry eyed the hat dubiously, wondering exactly what it was going to do and what it had done to earn the revered position of the center of attention that it currently occupied. He was silently contemplating the various heroic feats that this ragged hat could have accomplished when Harry felt a small hand slide into his own. Smiling slightly, he squeezed his sister's hand and gave her a reassuring wink.
Just then, the skinny, intimidating witch from before came to stand in front of the small group.
"Welcome, first years," she said, in a kind but no-nonsense tone. "I am Professor McGonagall, your transfiguration teacher for the next seven years." There was some muttering about what transfiguration was until Professor McGonagall silenced it with a sharp look. She did not appear to be a person to mess with. "This is the sorting ceremony. One by one, I will call your name and you will come forward. This hat you see here be placed on your head. It is a special hat that is able to assess your personality and character. It will then sort you both into the house that it believes you are meant to belong in and into a consul group with a specific teacher. The house will be like your family here at Hogwarts. Your consul group will be a place to share and discuss your problems with people across houses and age groups, as well as the teacher who was specifically selected by the hat as the one who is most capable of meeting your personal needs." There was a small, muffled snort from behind Professor McGonagall at the teachers table. An intimidating man with black, greasy hair quickly lifted his napkin under the pretense of dabbing at his lip to hide his disapproval of the topic being discussed. Harry smirked. A teacher selected to "meet your personal needs"? It sounded about as fake to him as it did to the greasy-haired teacher.
Harry was distracted from his thoughts when the hat suddenly jumped up and one of the rips along the brim opened into a mouth. Then, further shocking him, it began to sing. After it had finished its rather long song stuffed full of perfect couplets, Professor McGonagall pulled out a roll of parchment, as if hats just randomly burst into song everyday, and announced, "Let us begin, then. Abbott, Hannah, please come forward."
Everybody watched as a small girl tumbled forward from the crowd and sat down on the stool nervously, obviously not pleased at being first. Professor McGonagall gently placed the hat over her curly blonde ponytail. The hat sat there for a few moments before yelling out "HUFFLEPUFF! FLITWICK!". Harry felt Melanie jump next to him at the sudden increase in the hats vocal ability as the rest of the people in the hall politely applauded. Hannah stumbled down from the stool and over to one of the long tables. Various people reached over to her after she sat down to introduce themselves.
The sorting went on and on, until Harry started to get bored just standing there. He glanced up at the teachers' table and was surprised to see the greasy-haired man staring at him. When they made eye contact, the scar on his forehead burned and he heard Melanie hiss beside him, obviously similarly affected. Harry hastily looked away from the man, rubbing his forehead. Confused and annoyed, Harry turned to Ron, muttering, "Who's the man all dressed in black at the end of the table?"
Ron quickly glanced up. "That's Professor Snape. He teaches potions but according to my brothers, he's pure evil. Everybody but the Slytherins hate him cause he's their head of house and favors them over everybody. But don't worry, they've assured me that no one has been sorted into his consul group for ages. Apparently he doesn't really believe in the concept."
Harry made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat to acknowledge the information and tried to focus on the sorting but something was still bothering him about that man and the way that he had been looking at them. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Harry heard his name called.
"Potter, Harry!" Harry squeezed Melanie's hand one more time before letting go to head towards the front of the room. Harry heard whispers begin to break out.
"Did she say Harry Potter?"
"The Harry Potter"
"Can you see his scar?"
"Is his sister here?"
"Can you see Melanie?"
Steadfastly ignoring them, Harry sat down on the stool. However, Harry could feel the tension in the room increase. It seemed even all the teachers were on the edge of their seats. Professor McGonnagal gave him a soft smile and placed the hat on his head. It was too big and it slipped down to cover his eyes. The last thing Harry saw was Melanie staring up at him, a reassuring smile on her lips.
"Hmmm, you are obviously very brave, given all the trials that you have been through…" Fighting the urge to jump off his chair when the hat suddenly spoke to me, Harry chose instead to respond.
"I guess…"
"But you also have an impressive amount of intellect, an ability for cunning, and the strongest loyalty to your sister that I have ever seen in an eleven-year old. So where to put you?"
"I don't know. Aren't you supposed to do that?" Harry asked. He could have sworn the hat gave an indignant huff.
"Of course, child. I think you would do well in Slytherin but Gryffindor is also a very promising option. That is, after all where your parents were." Despite himself, Harry felt his heart swell a little bit at the though of having some connection to his parents, something they had both been so devoid of. Obviously the hat sensed this.
"So you want Gryffindor? Alright then, but I'll have to complement that with a very unusual consul. But, after all, you are rare so a rare combination should suit you well." At this point, Harry was lost by what the hat was saying. The next thing Harry knew, the hat is shouting to the entire hall.
"GRYFFINDOR! SNAPE!" There was silence in the hall. Harry felt the hat being lifted off his head and an icy knot made its way into his stomach. Of course Harry would be sorted into the consol group of the man that everybody says hates everyone but Slytherin's. Harry slid off the stool and headed over to table Harry knew to be Gryffindors. Suddenly, applause broke out from the table. And not just polite applause, but genuine, floor stomping applause. Even the Weasley twins were standing, yelling "We got a Potter! We got a Potter!"
Harry sat down amongst the other first years, barely noticing all the fists pounding on his back and the people reaching over to introduce themselves. It was kind of pathetic in his opinion. Instead, Harry glanced up at the teachers table and over to Snape's seat. He looked as if someone had either just dropped a brick on his head or told him that Santa Clause didn't exist. Ignoring this to be dealt with at a later date, Harry refocused his attention on Melanie.
"Potter, Melanie!" Similar whispers followed her trek to the stool and continued after the hat was dropped on her head. She had a determined look on her face and Harry knew what that meant. Sure enough, in a much shorter amount of time than his own sorting had taken, the hat screamed,
"GRYFFINDOR! SNAPE!" Melanie slid off the stool with a grim look of satisfaction on her face and, ignoring the applause, headed directly over to her brother. Harry moved slightly, giving her room to slide her slight frame in next to him.
"Well, look's like were unusual in this world in more ways than surviving the killing curse," she muttered to me, irony laced in her tone. Harry smiled.
"Go figure."
And so, the sorting continued, with Professor McGonagall seemingly determined to ignore the disruptive Weasley twins, who were now catcalling to the other three tables: "We got BOTH Potters! We got BOTH Potters!" Funnily enough, Snape didn't look nearly as happy as them about this development.
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