Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else you might recognize.
A/N: Most humble apologies. I ran across an issue with the scheduling and got distracted. However, the mistake has been rectified. Please remember this is AU, there for there any scheduling errors are NOT errors, they are my way of teaching at Hogwarts. Yes, I do have a creative liscence that I would be more than happy to show you. All you have to do is ask.
Harry awoke to a perfect day for his first day of school, and felt that he'd been cheated out of a day made for Quidditch and adventure. Before he could voice that opinion to his roommates, Hunter spoke up, "Merlin, does it have to be so bright in here? Close the curtains."
Harry pulled the drapes closed, "Sorry," he muttered, grabbing his shower bag and heading into the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, Neville joined him, "Hunter doesn't do mornings," Harry said, "sorry about that."
"It's ok," Neville said.
Harry ran his comb through his hair and sighed; "Now I get to try to get him out of bed."
"Why?" Neville asked.
"Can't have him over sleep, it is the first day of classes, right?" Harry replied, he put his comb down and headed back into the dorm. "Hunter," he called, "time for breakfast!"
"Go away!" Hunter replied as Harry pulled back his sheets.
"Oh, come on," Harry muttered, glowering at his brother, "Hunter, if you don't get up, I will use a charm that Sirius taught me on you."
Hunter jerked and rolled off his bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud. "What's that?" Ron asked.
"Just Hunter, freaking out over a noise charm," Harry replied, turning to grab his bag.
"You said a Sirius charm," Hunter said, standing up.
"Yes," Harry replied, "Sirius taught me a noise charm to help me get you out of bed." He swung his bag over his shoulder and gave Hunter a smile, "Breakfast is being served; you wouldn't want to be late for class would you?" Turning, Harry left the dorm, pausing only to cast a charm at the window that caused all the windows to open. This was a Remus taught charm, intended for morning after hangovers; Harry thought it would be sufficient torment for his brother's vampire-like morning attitude. The groans he heard as Neville followed him down the stairs were proof of that.
"Isn't that a little mean?" Neville asked.
Harry chuckled, "Hunter and I are always pranking each other, Neville. With our dad and godfather, how could we not? He'll get me back at some point."
Hermione was waiting for them in the common room, "Good morning," Neville said.
"Finally," Hermione replied, "I'm going to strangle my roommates."
"Why?" Neville asked.
"Can I help?" Harry added.
"They're, they," Hermione paused, "They giggle."
"They're evil," Harry said, wisely, "they giggle. Papa says that when girls giggle together they're planning to take over the world and make all men wear pink."
"Isn't that a little dramatic?" Hermione asked, looking at him for a long moment.
"Your face is a little dramatic," Harry replied, adjusting his bag and glancing over his shoulder to the dorm. "Let's go, if we get to the Great Hall before Hunter can catch up, you won't have to hear him whine."
"Why would he do that?" Hermione asked as she followed him out the portrait hole.
"Hunter doesn't like morning sunlight," Harry replied as they started down the corridor, "and I used a spell Uncle Remus taught me to charm all the windows open."
"Why did you do that?" Hermione asked.
"Retaliation," Harry said. "He's the one that," Harry coughed, "accidentally spilled a color change potion in my milk a few days ago. It's bad enough that I've got dad's hair; I didn't need the added excitement of having it be multicolor as well. Opening the curtains to let in the morning light is nothing."
"Why prank him at all?" Hermione asked.
"Papa, Padfoot and Uncle Remus are the Marauders, they're legends at Hogwarts from all the pranks they pulled. I'll tell you the stories sometime. Thing is, when your father is a legendary prankster you learn quickly that it's either prank or be pranked."
"May I ask a question?" Neville interjected.
"What's the question?" Harry asked, looking over at the other boy.
"Well, I was wondering," Neville said, "and I've noticed this before, why do you say Mom and Papa but Hunter says Mum and Dad?"
Harry laughed, "Oh, that's an easy one. I say mom because one of my best friends in primary was an American boy named Taylor who said that. He didn't talk like we did, so I adopted some of his words to help him. Some of it is habit by now, even if he does fit in better than he did. As for Papa, well, as a child, I had a deep and abiding fear of the letter 'd'. No, I don't know why, but I wouldn't say it, I'd say Pa'foot instead of Padfoot and stuff like that. It took a lot of work with Uncle Remus and Mom to stop. I wouldn't say Daddy or Dad, so I said Papa. Like Mom, it's a habit." Harry shrugged.
The trio reached the Great Hall and snagged seats near the middle of the table, "Here, schedules," said one of the older boys, shoving papers at them. He looked at Harry for a long moment.
"I'm Harry," Harry said, "Hunter's probably still complaining about the curtains being open." He smiled sweetly at the older boy as he took the schedules and began flipping through them.
"Sorry," the kid said.
"It's ok," Harry replied, "it happens. For future reference, Hunter's scar isn't a lightning bolt."
"Right, I'll remember that," the older boy said quickly as a blush stained his cheeks, and left.
Harry passed Hermione and Neville their schedules before pulling out his own. "Well, let's see," Harry set his schedule to one side and put some food on his plate. Then, with one hand guiding the fork, he looked over the schedule. "Not too bad; Herbology and Defense today, no Potions until Friday." Harry picked up a glass of pumpkin juice. Remind me to send my parents a letter; they'll want to know how everything is going." He took a sip.
"Don't forget to send Mum and Dad a letter!" Hunter said, from behind Harry.
Harry sacrificed his juice to the gods of the spit take as he left his seat in shock. As he coughed and Neville pounded him on the back, Hunter reached for his schedule, then stepped back, "We've all got the same classes, right?"
"Yes," Hermione replied.
"Good, I'll just borrow Harry's should I ever need one," Hunter said, took a seat and giving his brother a mournful look, "He spit all over mine after all."
Harry grinned, "I'm getting better."
"You meant to do that?" Hermione asked, staring at him.
"Let's just say this," Harry replied, "I was trying not to hit my plate. Eggs are good, and pumpkin juice is good, but pumpkin juice is not a good flavor for eggs." He passed Hunter his schedule Hunter had filled his plate.
"The sad part is," Hunter said as he looked at the schedule, "You know that from personal experience."
"Hey, I thought it would be good," Harry replied, defensively. "Mom says that half of cooking is experimentation after all."
"As long as I don't have to eat it," Hunter replied, passing back the schedule, "I will be a happy person."
"There's nothing wrong with my cooking," Harry replied, loftily, "besides, the last time I made cookies, you ate a good third of them yourself. You said the only reason you didn't eat more was because Padfoot beat you to them."
"Yeah, but those are your cookies not one of those casseroles you and Mum claim are real food." Hunter said around some of his breakfast.
"Thank you," Harry said, "I'm sure we were all just dying to know what half-chewed eggs and bacon looked like. My life long dream is fulfilled, I will now die." He rolled his eyes up in his head and fell sideways; head landing in Ron's lap moments after the red head had sat down.
"Oi!" Ron yelped as the others burst into laughter. Harry tried to sit up quickly, but only succeeded in whacking his head on the table so hard, he saw stars. He sat up and rubbed his head, glaring at Ron, "What was that for?" Ron asked.
"I was being dramatic," Harry replied, "You weren't supposed to sit down!"
"What, nobody's allowed to sit next to you?" Ron replied.
"Well, my right is the direction that I tend to keep over, swing my arms and other things, it could be hazardous to your health," Harry replied.
"I thought you were the quiet twin," Ron muttered, edging away from him.
Harry's grin faltered, and he looked over at Hunter, uncertain if the other boy was angry or not. "Daush dunai," Hunter said with a slight nod. "Go ahead and eat, Harry."
Harry nodded and picked up his fork, he hated when he went overboard; he had only wanted to make a good impression on his housemates, and he'd gone too far. "Ron," Hunter said, finally.
Harry glanced up, and over at the red haired boy, who was shoving food into his mouth. Then he looked back at Hunter and shook his head, "Daush, kev pi," he said. Hunter looked at him for a long moment, not ready to let it go, but Harry shook his head and Hunter looked back down at his plate.
"It's Malfoy," Ron muttered.
Harry glanced up, and quickly spotted the blond-haired boy heading for the Gryffindor table. "Hey Malfoy, I hate to break it to you, but the Hufflepuff table is over there. Gryffindor had a vote and booted you out of the honorary membership for crying."
"Yeah," Hunter said, turning to look at the blond, who had stopped walking and was staring at him, "We totaled your brownie points at midnight, you had the perfect amount for Hufflepuff."
"I am a Slytherin!" Draco declared.
"Sure," Hunter and Harry drawled in unison, "of course you are, Malfoy."
Malfoy stared at the two of them for a long moment, then turned and walked away, his robes flaring behind him as he headed for the Slytherin table. "That wasn't very nice," Hermione said, quietly.
"No, it wasn't," Harry agreed, "but if I had let him speak his mind things would have gone a lot worse. I'd rather not have a fight on the first day. We'll save that for tomorrow."
"We need to go," Neville spoke up, "we'll be late for Herbology."
The five stood up and headed out the door, Hunter leading the way eagerly. Harry let them go ahead of him in a mass of chatter. With the attention on Hunter, he turned around to see what Malfoy was doing, and found the blond a lot closer than he'd expected, "Sorry about that," Harry said simply, "I didn't want to see a fight at breakfast." He turned and ran, leaving Draco standing behind him, stunned.
Harry found Herbology to be mildly interesting. It wasn't a subject of interest to most of his family, although his mother did have a garden for her potions work. Most of the information was new to Harry, so he figured that the class would be decent. At least, until they got to go into, say, Greenhouse Four, where the dangerous plants were held. That was when the class's entertainment factor was sure to go through the roof.
They followed Herbology with supper, shared with most of the students in the school, and Harry kept himself outside of the group. Having pushed Ron so far this morning, Harry wasn't really looking forward to trying again. Hunter was better at making friends anyway. Harry would be better off just letting Hunter do that, like he had in primary.
It was interesting, to say the least, Hogwarts suppers proved to be a noisy affair, as friends cheerfully yelled about their days and homework assignments while filling themselves with the good food spread before them. Hunter proved to be a focal point for the Hall, with students coming by to greet him as they came in, or left, and Harry took a seat that kept him out of the worst of the crowd. "That's insane," Hermione said, sitting down beside Harry and eyeing the crowd around Hunter. "I know that he's the Boy-Who-Lived and all, but really, can't they let him eat?"
Harry sighed, "They won't, because it will never occur to them." He looked down the table and caught his brother's eye. The plea in them was clear and Harry nodded slightly. After he ate a little more he got up, "I'll be right back," he told Neville and Hermione when they looked up him, then hurried from the hall and up the stairs to wait in a hallway.
Soon, Hunter arrived, looking flushed. "It's crazy," he stated.
Harry nodded, "They'll never give you a chance to eat, here," he pulled a small, black bag from his book bag and opened it.
"You know how grateful I am when you do this," Hunter said, taking a tube of Muggle concealer from the bag.
"I know," Harry replied his own tube in hand.
The twins faced each other and quickly used the concealer to hide the only distinguishing characteristic they had; the scars left to them from the night of Voldemort's attack. Harry's scar was a lightning bolt that streaked down above his left eye. Hunter bore a different mark, one that resembled a rune, but one that Harry had never heard translated. The scar was located over his left eye, a reminder of his great victory over one of the darkest lords the world had ever seen. Once the real scars had been hidden, they took out special markers and took turns drawing on each other. For Hunter, Harry's distinctive lightning bolt turned him into the shyer twin, and for Harry, be vague rune made him the savior of the Wizarding World. They tapped their glasses with a singer digit and grinned at each other. Harry had his father's bad vision, and had been wearing glasses since he was three years old. Hunter had seemed to have escaped the Potter sight until they were nine, when his sight had required vision correction. The twins had picked out matching, chunky black frames that enhanced their identical look.
"I'm glad Mom had us practice this," Hunter said, winking at Harry.
"I'll say," Harry replied with a grin. "Let's go."
The twins took a final breath, checked their robes and returned to the Great Hall, with Harry easily playing the role of The Boy-Who-Lived while Hunter took his spot with Neville and Hermione and finally managed to finish his lunch.
* * *
The rest of the week passed quickly, much to Harry's private relief. First Years at Hogwarts, at the age of eleven, were in some ways, still growing into their magic, so their classes were light on magic and heavy on theory. They took few classes, and found themselves with little to do when the teachers were waiting to assign homework. Harry heard that in the other houses, there were student meetings, and of course, the Hogwarts clubs, but there was little to do in the mean time. It was with glee that Hunter and he approached the dungeon classroom of Professor Severus Snape. The twins had taken great care with their appearance that morning, dressed in the Hogwarts uniform, with hair at its messiest and blocky black glasses, the pair were like clones. For the final touch, they covered their scars with the same Muggle concealer as before.
"Come on," Ron hissed, sticking his head out the door, he froze, "What are you doing?" He demanded.
Hunter grinned, "Nothing."
The twins entered the classroom in lockstep, moving with perfect precision, they claimed seats and set up their cauldrons and laid out parchment and quills. Then they pulled out a pen and scrap of paper and got busy with a round of tic-tac-toe. Harry had just claimed victory when the door slammed open, their signal to stashing the non-essential items. "There will be no foolish wand waving," Professor Severus Snape began as he stalked through the classroom to his desk and stand. He continued to speak as the twins, with identical angelic-attentive expressions, watched him. Both held an ever-full quill in their right hand and rested their left at the base of their parchments.
Snape's glare at the pair darkened as he finished his speech, then he looked away to take role. He spat each name like they were foul tasting items until he said, "Potter, Harry," and glared at them. Hunter raised his hand and Snape snapped, "Potter, Hunter," with, perhaps, twice the venom. Harry raised his hand as well, keeping his face neutral. Finished with the roll, Snape stalked over to the twins, "Potter!" he spat out. "Where might I find a bezoar?"
"In the stomach of a goat," Harry replied instantly.
"In a potions kit," Hunter added.
Snape looked at them, "Are you trying to be cute?" He asked finally.
"No, Professor Snape," the twins said in innocent unison. "Mother says we come by it naturally."
"Twenty points each from Gryffindor," Snape said after a long moment. "And you will be working with different people, You, Potter, will work with Nott. You will work with Zabini. Now!"
Harry looked at Hunter and mouthed Zabini. Hunter nodded and packed up his things to switch with Zabini. As soon as Blaise was seated and Snape had put the potion on the board, Harry murmured, "I'm Harry, Blaise."
"You're going to be killed," Blaise replied, "what are you thinking?"
"I haven't done anything," Harry replied.
"I missed Potter's wand at your head," Blaise muttered.
Moments later, a hissing noise alerted the pair to trouble. Neville, working with Dean Thomas, another Gryffindor, and under the glare of Professor Snape, had melted his cauldron. "Lovely," Harry murmured as he watched the potion spread. It didn't appear likely to threaten him or Blaise, but Hermione and Ron had to move or risk being in the potion's path.
"Pathetic, Longbottom," Snape said, vanishing the potion before turning on Harry, "And you, Potter, why didn't you stop him from adding the porcupine quills before removing the potion from the flames." Harry stumbled to his feet, staring at the professor for a moment, stunned at his attack. He glanced around for a moment, trying to find an answer. "Well?" Snape said.
"I…I," Harry tried, before deciding that he'd have to bring out the big guns.
As Hunter, outraged, said, "Leave him alone, he's not Longbottom's partner," Harry looked up as far as he could and collapsed, like Moony had taught him. As his head connected with the stone floor, he mused that the fake faint worked, but was far less comforting without a cushioning charm. With his eyes closed, Harry waited to see what Snape would do now.
A horrible smell entered Harry's nostrils, and Harry held out for a short while before he shot up right to escape the sent. On his way to a full, seated position, his head connected with something that crunched and added to the pounding ache in his head. As Harry steadied himself, and felt his brother's arm helping him, his eyes focused on Professor Snape, whose hand covered his nose as he glared at the twins. "Out," Snape managed in an odd tone. "This class is dismissed."
Hunter helped Harry up and the two gathered their stuff and left with the rest of the class, heading away from the dungeons quickly.
* * *
"I don't know how you two managed this," James Potter said as his sons entered their Head of House's office. "I didn't manage a parents' visit until my third year."
"It's not our fault!" The twins said in perfect synch.
"We answered his questions."
"We were quiet."
"We made the potion correctly."
"We weren't the ones who melted the cauldron!"
James hid his smile, no matter how funny he found it when the boys switched their sentences like that; he knew that he could not show it towards them. "Still," James said, "you did break his nose, Harry."
"It was an accident," Hunter protested, "Professor Snape was too close when he started waving that vial around."
"Never the less," Professor McGonagall interrupted, "you two must be careful when interacting with Professor Snape. Further trouble in his class will lead to much worse than the loss of points that you have already suffered."
"Yes, Professor McGonagall," the twins replied.
"Now, you may spend time with your father, but not in my office." McGonagall said.
"Come along," James said, "We'll just see how much Gryffindor Tower has changed since I left."
"Make sure it's still standing when you leave, James," McGonagall said briskly, as the trio left the office. "I still haven't forgotten your seventh year prank."
"They found the tower again, Minnie-dearest," James said, with a flash of his school-boy grin, "It just took them a few years." With a thud, he shut the door and turned to follow his sons to the Gryffindor Tower. Finding them staring at him in silent appraisal, he spread his hands out, "What? It's not like anyone really needed the Divination Tower."