A/N: I thank you for returning to The Adventures of H.J.P. and I will trust that you're doing very well since last we met. In this chapter, Harry has a pow-wow with Dumbledore, saves a house-elf from a fate worse than death, makes lots of new friends, some new enemies, and somehow manages to make Draco Malfoy crap himself. How this all happens, however, will be revealed once you read this update. Have at it, hoss! I come bringing reviewer replies:
RogueNya- Sirius deserves nothing less than going out like a freakin' gangsta, and I'm glad that you appreciated it. As of this chapter, Harry is recently-turned fourteen.
Justlookingforupdates- Thanks so much! We're all sad about Sirius. There will never be anyone quite like the old mutt.
timber- Um…wow. Sorry about disappointing you. The way I developed my writing style includes making the reader ask questions and then answering them in a later chapter or something, and Bella's breakout will be explained in due time. Please don't hate me, or call me a brain-dead twat. That kinda hurt my feelings. Anyway, the only reason I would ever put down the blunt is to pick up the bong, man. Detox is for quitters, and I shall do my best to explain.
Wizardmon0073- Harry's cool, but he's a bit dim. He showed Bella his face because of this fact. And also because he's awesome. Anyway, Harry only accepted Remus so quickly because he was already pretty twisted when the werewolf arrived, so his mind wasn't working all-too properly. Thank you for your words, I'll work on what I can, and look forward to this chapter.
HP-DG-SB- I beg forgiveness! Oh, trust me when I say that good ol' Bella's upance will come when she least expects it. And it will come…MWA HA HA HA HA HA!
vizard- Yeah, Harry was drunk. I don't know about you, but when I get drunk, I get really emotional and stuff. I've cried in front of complete strangers, so I figure that if it's good enough for me, it's good enough for Harry.
Najiro- I wept tears of blood after I wrote out the death scene, so you're not alone in your grief. It will be worth it. There are high prices for quality stuff.
nobother- Thanks a bunch!
lego-king- I'm glad to hear my story has allowed someone to find love. Yay me!
flame55- Muchos gracias!
blackroselover- Harry's new nickname is Shock 'n Awe 'cause he's so shocking it's awesome! Lol.
Winchester Squishy- I know, poor Sirius! Argh! Anyway, Hogwarts'll still be reeling from Harry's time there by the time his kids go there. And I'm relieved that at least somebody gets my humor.
nxkris- Thanks! I've been pissed off that Sirius didn't get a fitting death since reading the Ministry battle way back when, so I decided to give him an epic death more befitting a man of his caliber.
murdrax- I'm thinking of having Severus be that one bastard who you just love to hate, like how he's portrayed in the movies.
Amber-Says-Go-Die- I give you props on your dope-ass penname. I dig it. I hate myself for killing Sirius, but I'm not into scumbag writers, so I can't say in all honesty that I love myself. Lol.
TheSithWriter- Thanks for the kind words! I'll try my damndest to finish this story.
ceo55-Your wait's over! Here's the new chapter and thanks for the review.
Naginator- Oh, hell he shall raise when he gets to the dusty old castle.
darkplayer35- Here's the update you asked for!
sanbeegoldiewhitey- Sorry! (but not really) (but seriously, though, really)
Lord Jace- I feel honored that you would deem to review my humble story, my liege. And c'mon, who wouldn't want a wandgun, honestly? And I made a new shirt for Harry to make his grand entrance, just for you.
Victorules- You must have the gift of Sight! And don't worry, he'll need the sword in a chapter or two. It's funny you should mention avoiding zoos. I haven't been to a zoo in, like a decade 'cause when I was but a wee tyke, I had an exceedingly traumatic incident at the L.A. Zoo that involved an elephant and leave it at that.
Wow, these reviewer replies are starting to take longer to write than that actual chapters! Whew, anyway, here's the new chap!
Disclaimer: I do not profess to own any people, places, things, ideas, or concepts that are already owned by someone else. This I do solemnly swear as a citizen of Your Momma, of which I became last night. If you don't get it, then I did that whole disclaimer for nothing.
Chapter 6: Helter Skelter
17 September, 2003
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland, United Kingdom
"May I offer you a lemon drop, Mr. Potter?"
"That'd be wonderful, Headmaster, thanks."
Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Morpheus, and Fawkes were nestled in the Headmaster's study. After a few minutes of sobering up that morning and going to the hospital to retrieve Sirius' remains, Remus had used the box he'd brought yesterday to portkey himself, Harry, and Morpheus to Hogsmeade, where they were escorted by a half-giant named Rubeus Hagrid onto the grounds and through the castle.
The wards and runes throughout the ancient place of learning fascinated Harry, and he took the first opportunity to try the computer in such a magically-saturated place. He was exceedingly happy when the runic array proved to be not only workable, but exceptional, and the siphoning array worked brilliantly.
Hagrid brought them up, via movable winding staircase, to an office with solid oak doors. A brass name plaque proclaimed that the study belonged to A.P.W.B. Dumbledore. Remus had burst open the door to be melodramatic, and Harry stepped in moments later.
Now, with Remus gone, Harry was alone with Dumbledore. Morpheus was entranced by the phoenix, and through the bond they shared, Harry could sense that Morpheus was a bit envious of the firebird. His claws twitched, and the wizard knew his familiar was just itching to 'acquire' Fawkes to add to his ever-growing collection.
"Well, you have most certainly caused quite a stir-up within the magical community, Harry. May I call you Harry?"
"Of course, Professor," Harry replied. "But, if I may make an inquiry on my familiar's behalf, I was wondering if Fawkes would permit Morpheus to acquire him."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, scrutinizing the tiny dragon more closely. "A metadrake, if I'm not mistaken. Well, if Fawkes consents, I can see no problem. Fawkes?" The immortal nodded its graceful head, trilling in amusement.
Harry watched as Morpheus winged his way over to Fawkes' perch. Now, forgive me if this hurts a bit. I've been practicing, but it still pinches a little, I'm told. He pressed his claw against the phoenix's wing and closed his eyes. Other than a shuffling of its feathers, Fawkes seemed to take no notice of the metadrake's acquisition process.
When he was done, Morpheus shuddered violently (it was always difficult for Morpheus to change the first time), and sprouted crimson and gold plumage while he grew several times his original size. When the transformation was complete, two identical phoenixes sat on the golden perch, both trilling softly to one another.
"Fascinating creatures, metadrakes," Dumbledore said. "How did you come to meet such an interesting beast?"
"I actually injured him when I crossed into his territory. He attacked me as a puma, then turned into a bear when it became clear that I wasn't easy prey. Still took him down, though. After that, we've become inseparable. There's not much else to it."
"You must inform me of all your adventures these past seven years, Harry. Would you consent to answer the plethora of questions I have for you?" When the boy nodded, Dumbledore continued. "The first and foremost question on my mind is how on Earth you managed to survive when your relatives left you in the United States?"
"I probably wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for Padfoot. Sirius Black," he added at the slightly confused look on the old man's face. The confusion evolved into shock quickly. "And before you say anything, let me explain about the old mutt."
During the next couple of hours, Harry related to Dumbledore the last several years of his life, sometimes having to demonstrate an obscure or random piece of magic he'd explained. Albus was rather surprised when he found out that he wasn't Lord Flamel's only apprentice, and much impressed at Harry's knowledge and practial use of runes when he saw the Common electrical device working perfectly in his castle.
At the end of it, Albus was rather surprised at the young man sitting before him. The remorse he felt at leaving him with the Dursleys was still there, but it was lessened by the fact that the tiny baby had turned into this young man. When he had trained under Nicolas, the alchemist always used to say that everything happened for a reason, and this young man before him was obvious proof of that.
"I must confess," Albus said, deep regret etched into his every wrinkle, "that I have done wrong by you so many times, Harry. The last two decades of my life are wrought with mistakes that I could have avoided, and so many people I've seen grow up from young children have died before my eyes because of them, including your parents. I believed the stories about your godfather, and even had a part in sentencing him to life in Azkaban, robbing you of ever having a modicum of childhood. Would you forgive an old man for his shortsightedness?"
Harry was at a loss for words for a moment after that. When he regained his voice, he muttered, "You have nothing to apologize for, sir. You're human, no matter how powerful or wise you are, and to err is human."
"And to forgive is divine," Dumbledore said, finishing the old adage. "Indeed, you are truly your parents' child. It seems, with Sirius aiding in your training, you've turned out even better than had you gone to our esteemed institute of learning. However, I must insist that you complete your training within the wards of Hogwarts."
"Why?" Harry asked. "I don't want to sit back and wait for Voldemort to return. You know what Lestrange's appearance means as well as I do, and I for one will not simply watch for him to come back."
"Do you know why Voldemort did not die when the Killing Curse rebounded on him those many years ago?" Harry shook his head mutely. "By any chance, do you know what a Horcrux is?" A glimmer of understanding shone in Harry's eyes, and Albus nodded.
"Is that how the wooly bastard did it, then? How many?"
"I cannot be completely sure, but it is most definitely more than one, and at least two are in this castle at the moment."
"How do you know this?"
"It was actually quite simple. A few simple Dark-magic detection charms at each of the three master runic arrays throughout the school, although if legend is true, there is a fourth somewhere in the bowels of the castle I might have missed. I can't pinpoint their locations, but it is enough to know that they are here."
"So two or more, eh?" Harry scratched his chin. "How much do you know about Lord Voldemort, Professor?"
By the time Harry left Dumbledore's office, he'd not only learned far more than he needed to about Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, as his mother named him, but he'd also accepted the offer of sanctuary at Hogwarts castle. He'd also convinced Dumbledore to help with his training, since the old man was probably the only person in this castle he couldn't overcome with magic or might. Albus Dumbledore was considered by most to be one of the top magic-users in the world, he was also an accomplished swordmaster, and if rumor was to be believed, had topped off at an eighty-nine on the Warbler Scale, which placed him as a Deva.
Deciding that he'd had enough of consciousness for one day, Harry followed the very eloquently-drawn map Dumbledore had given him to the guest quarters.
The guest quarters were situated on the first floor of the castle, just off the Entrance Hall, and were well-furnished. It seemed as though Hogwarts wanted to impress any and all visitors. A queen-size canopy bed with elaborately carved head- and foot-boards sat in the center of the room, with cerulean blankets that matched the intricate tapestries and rugs that clothed the walls and floor. A large, navy sofa was situated near a fireplace with an already roaring blaze within, and the end tables near the bed and couch were of the finest mahogany. Off to one side was a large bureau of the same wood, but with infinitely more detail to the carved surfaces.
After placing all his clothing into the wardrobe and the rest of his possessions into the dresser, Harry took stock of all his equipment. Sirius had drilled into his godson's head that a wizard was only as good as his gear, and his gear was only as good as the wizard allowed it to be.
He laid out all the things that his battlefield belt contained and took stock. Five four-gram packets of Erumpent horn, powdered. Twelve blocks of Insta-Ice. Seven bezoars. Eight doses of gillyweed, each able to sustain him underwater for exactly an hour and forty-eight minutes. Several rubber bands, which he sometimes used to throw off his opponents during duels. Two vials of Living Death, three of boom-juice, five each of Pepper-Up and Rejuvination Draught, and two of Dreamless Sleep. A semi-new Aerohawk Quidditch broom. Goggles with sight-enhancement, anti-glare, anti-breaking, and impervious enchantments on them. The Kawasaki Ninja that had received the same enchantments that had been placed on Sirius' old Harley, as well as a few extras added by Harry himself. A small, obsidian dagger with runes Harry carved into it himself that prevented any dulling or breaking of the blade, along with a scabbard for it. Some chalk that would mark on anything, for his alchemical magicks. The Potter and Black Head-of-House rings (the Potter ring was a heavy gold affair, with a massive ruby as the centerpiece, the Potter family crest etched into the face; the Black ring was a thin, silver thing with intricately carved whorls and swirls, with five black diamonds embedded into it, the largest of which held the Black crest). Punitor and its sheath, the wandgun and its holster, his shinboku and phoenix feather spare wand along with its own spring-loaded holster that was worn around the wrist, Ferocia in its own ornate scabbard, and Sirius' wand, an odd combination of oak and dragon's heartstring.
Harry checked the blades for any signs of damage from the last battle, polished all three wands, rechecked to see that the Erumpent packets were still properly sealed, and inspected every other piece of equipment he had for signs of damage. Finding none, Harry nodded, satisfied, and pulled out a miniscule bottle fit only for a toy, then unshrunk it and took a long pull.
Sitting on the bed, Harry pulled out his laptop and started perusing some fan fiction while drinking Buchanon rum.
Daphne Aria Greengrass awoke that morning, as with almost every other morning, with the breaking dawn. Not that she could actually see the sun rising, since the Slytherin dormitories were in the dungeons of Hogwarts, but she'd been doing it since before she could remember.
Her intense violet eyes scanned the dorm, which had only one other bed besides her own, and it was occupied by her long-time friend, Tracey Davis. Deciding that sitting in bed wasn't doing her any good, Daphne got up and went to take care of her morning ablutions.
From the moment the Sorting Hat had put her in Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass had been cold. She had to be, especially considering that her housemates hated her because of the fact that she was half-blooded. She and Tracey were the only two half-bloods in the Serpent House, and their peers never let them forget it.
So Daphne put up the facade of the Ice Queen as a defense mechanism, using her Muggle heritage to her advantage by dressing in dark, gothic clothing and coloring several chunks of her otherwise jet-colored hair the same color as her irises. The Slytherins, along with the rest of the school, steered clear of her, either because they were afraid of associating with a half-blood, or because they were scared off by the frigid gothic bitch persona she'd shrouded herself in. Only Tracey knew otherwise.
After clothing herself in the Hogwarts uniform, she woke up Tracey, who wasn't too thrilled about that.
"You suck," Tracey said tiredly, rubbing her eyes. "Bloody early bird."
"But you know what they say about early birds," Daphne quipped as she pulled on her green and silver striped stockings. "They always get the worm."
"So what's your worm, then?" retorted her friend, fighting back a yawn.
"Don't know," Daphne shrugged, picking up her wand and using it to bring her long hair into a messy bun at the back of her head before tying it up with a bone-white ribbon.
She checked over her homework for Charms while waiting for Tracey to shower and dress, scribbling off a few redundant sentences in her essay about Summoning Charms to get it to the required three feet of writing.
"Come on," Tracey grunted, slipping on her shiny black shoes. "Let's get some breakfast."
They made their way up to the Great Hall, where most of the school was already eating. Daphne shot a mock glare at her companion, who shrugged with an easy smile. It was always like this: Greengrass would wake up earlier than most, and would then always be one of the last to arrive at breakfast because Tracey took so long.
Sitting down at the Slytherin table, they started selecting their food. "So what's on the agenda for today?" Daphne asked as she loaded up her plate with hash browns.
"Well, after Care of Magical Creatures, I'm going to take a walk with Blaise around the lake," Tracey replied around a mouthful of scrambled egg. The she cast an eye over the table and added, "if he isn't sick or something."
"Must be a flu going through the castle," Daphne murmured. "Remember the Weasley boy threw up in Potions the other day?"
"Yes, but that might've been because he was sitting too close to Crabbe's cauldron," Tracey replied, grimacing at the mere memory of the horrid stench that came from her housemate's class work.
"Yeah, it could've been that," Daphne conceded. "Oh, look. Headmaster's got a few words to say. I just hope they make sense this time." A smile crossed her face when she remembered the few words Professor Dumbledore had to say at the beginning of her first year at Hogwarts.
"May I have your attention, please?" Dumbledore said, standing from the winged chair at the staff table. "It is my great pleasure to inform you all that we will be having a new face in the castle, and the fourth-years will gain one more peer."
The students almost immediately started chattering, speculating on who the new kid would be. Tracey smirked at Daphne. "Maybe it's a hot bloke to melt you, Ice Queen," she muttered in an undertone only her friend could hear.
Before Daphne could retort, Dumbledore continued. "Now, our new student has suffered a most grievous loss recently, so I would like you all to be kind to him and treat him as you would any other student. Now, may I please introduce to you-"
He was interrupted by a flash of flame that erupted in the direct center of the Great Hall, halfway between the house tables and the staff table. When it subsided, a young man with shaggy, unruly black hair stood casually, with his back turned to the students. A magnificent phoenix sat perched on his shoulder.
The boy turned his head slightly to the right, and Daphne caught the profile of a rather handsome face with brilliant green eyes, shrouded slightly by the shot-with-green black hair of his fringe. He was wearing black robes, but they weren't the ones Hogwarts uniforms required. They had bright green stitching, and several runic designs she recognized from her Ancient Runes class were sewn in with the same color, as well as more than a few she didn't. The shirt he wore underneath boldly proclaimed, 'Parselmouths do it with their tongues.' A dragon-hide sheath held a sword at his side, another on his back, and he had well-worn boots on his feet.
He turned to the phoenix, and said in a slightly Americanized British accent, "Dammit, Morpheus, I said facing the students, not the teachers. You ruined my entrance, dude." As Daphne watched, a ripple went across the phoenix's body, and suddenly changed into a tiny, draconic creature with dark green scales.
An echoing voice sounded in her head, I told you it takes awhile to get accustomed to any given form, especially magical creatures. Should I try again? Several heads turned in confusion, but Daphne already knew that it was the dragon who had spoken.
"What, and make a complete fool of myself?" the boy replied. "No, I'm fine with everyone only thinking I'm half an idiot." He spun to face the students and bowed low before straightening with a wide, slightly lopsided smile. "Hello, all! My name's Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you!"
A moments ringing silence followed his statement, then the whole Hall erupted in mutters and whispers. Harry Potter? After seven years under the status of missing person, Harry bloody Potter just shows up out of the blue in the Great Hall, transported by a metadrake in phoenix morph? What the hell was going on?
Daphne was one of the few who saw McGonagall bringing in the Sorting Hat. Tracey noticed it as well.
"So what house d'you reckon he'll be in?" she asked, eyes sweeping up and down Harry's form appraisingly. "Hope he gets in Slytherin. I wouldn't mind befriending him, if you know what I mean?"
"You do have a boyfriend, you know," came a deep voice behind them. Tracey squeaked as her face flooded with color. Blaise Zabini, Tracey's boyfriend of three months, eased into a seat next to her, his dark skin contrasting sharply with his short, silvery hair and matching eyes.
"And you weren't supposed to hear that," Tracey mumbled, face in her hands. Daphne was still gazing at the savior of the Wizarding world, biting her lip in deep thought.
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said loudly enough that the chattering died down. "I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will determine which house you will be placed in for the duration of your education. Is that clear?"
"Yes, it is, Professor," replied Harry. The Scotswoman set the hat down on his messy hair, and it rested there easily.
Then, Harry felt a strange pressure on his Occlumency shields before an ancient presence enveloped his mind. Well, Occlumency, eh? Ah, no wonder. You've got a lot of stuff going on up here, Potter.
Who're you? Harry managed to think.
Who else would I be, you daft wanker? I'm the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts, of course! Were you expecting the Tooth Faerie? Nevermind. Let's get down to business. Hmm…We've got loyalty and a drive to help, most definitely. Knowledge, wit, intelligence...that's present by the bucketloads. No small amount of courage and bravery, either. Ambition and cunning, boy, you've got cunning as well. You won't be an easy one to sort.
Well, Padfoot said that I was Gryffindor's sole heir, Harry reasoned. Why not put me there?
Because, Potter, you're also the blood-heir of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and a magical heir to Slytherin. So, the most logical conclusion is...
"Mr. Potter cannot be Sorted," announced the Hat to many murmurs and confused glances. "For now, he shall choose where he eats and sleeps, and will have access to all four common rooms."
Grinning, Harry loped off to the table covered by a red and gold cloth to sit next to redheaded twins, which didn't go quite as planned, seeing as how they'd slipped a whoopie-cushion with a Sound-Amplification enchantment added to it, as well as a runic scheme that Transfigured any air that left its mouth into noxious methane fumes colored green.
All in all, not the best start to Harry Potter's career as a Hogwarts student.
"Mr. Potter, as this is your first day at Hogwarts, I will give you this one exception. I do not condone idle chatting in my classroom." McGonagall's glare bored into Harry's blushing face, and he apologized. "Now, since you were so obviously paying attention, would you care to demonstrate the Switching charm for us?"
Harry had been talking with his new friends, Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom, about his views on the U.K. Quidditch teams, and hadn't been listening very well. But he was pretty close to perfect with a Switching charm, thanks to several choice pranks Sirius had taught him, and he smiled.
"Certainly, Professor. What would you like to see?" He pulled out his spare wand, since he didn't want to announce his wandgun to the world just yet.
"First, switch the middle finger of your left hand with the cactus, then do the same with the index finger of your right hand, and finally, reverse it all." McGonagall watched with a critical eye as he started the wand movements.
In seconds, his middle finger was replaced by the cactus, and he wiggled the digit, which was poking out of the dirt in the bowl the Professor had given them at the start of class. Moving the wand to his right hand, he repeated the process so that the finger in the soil was now a few centimeters shorter, and then, with a flourish of his wand, they all righted themselves. He gave her a cheeky grin as he twirled the wand around his fingers like a drummer would his sticks.
"Hold out your hands," McGonagall said, then inspected the two digits he'd switched, making sure that they had their full range of movement. Thoroughly impressed, McGonagall cleared her throat and said, "Very well done, Potter. Five points to…ah, never mind." Harry very nearly smirked.
When the bell rang, the Transfiguration teacher asked him to stay after class. "Yes, Professor?" he asked innocently.
"How much can you do, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked. "I've very rarely seen such a promising student in this classroom as you."
"I can probably take my Transfiguration NEWT today," Harry said, shrugging. "My tutors were really quite good, and it's only thanks to them that I'm so capable."
"You have much faith in your prowess, Mr. Potter," the cat Animagus said. "Would you care to demonstrate some of your skills?"
"Of course, Professor." Harry whipped out his wand and cast a critical eye around the room but found nothing. Fighting to hide a grin, Harry conjured a block of granite from the ether, then Transfigured it into a pair of macaques and had the monkeys hop around the room, doing a simian dance of sorts. The macaques broke into a large swarm of African honey bees mid-leap, and they all landed on Harry's chin, forming a living beard.
With a final wave of his wand, the bees converged and changed into a red rose shot with streaks of gold, which he handed to the Professor. "And that ain't the half of it, either," he quipped with his lopsided grin that was quickly becoming a signature at the school.
McGonagall was silent for a moment as she examined the rose and found the Gryffindor crest emblazoned on an inner petal. "I must say, this is exquisite work, Mr. Potter. I doubt your father could have done as well in his prime." She paused, then said, "I suppose your proficiency extends to several other branches of magic as well?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied. "I've already had Professor Babbling on me because I could carve and charge a simple cheering runic array."
"I see," McGonagall murmured. She lapsed into silence for a bit, then seemed to remember that Harry was still there. "Well, off with you, Potter. Your lunch is waiting for you in the Great Hall. Just be sure not to mistake my classroom for a public forum. Not everyone can spare class time like you can."
As he walked down the hallway, the magical-vision charms on his glasses showed two dark gray forms hiding behind a suit of armor, the color he'd already associated with Disillusionment charms. His bounty-hunting instincts rose up, and he used an old dueling trick he'd picked up from Sirius called spellchaining.
The concept of spellchaining is simple, but the practice is much more complex. Simply put, the art of chaining spells together is finding similarities in the wand movements necessary for spells and using those to cut down on casting time. For example, the spellchain Harry used combined the Knockback jinx, a downward flick followed by a straight jab at the target, and the Stone-Shaping charm, which was a straight jab followed by a sort of clockwise stirring motion towards whatever stone the caster intends to reshape.
So instead of shoving his wand forward twice for both spells, he merely twitched the tip of his wand downward, followed by the jab, and instantly went into the stir.
This pushed both Disillusioned forms back into the wall, which suddenly grew hands and clamped around the unseen peoples' limbs securely, all done in less than five seconds.
Once he was sure they wouldn't escape, Harry dispelled the obscuring charm, only to find the two twins, whose names he'd discovered were Fred and George Weasley.
"Easy there, mate," the one on the right said. "This is only the first date. Hands-off, we're not that kind of girl, you know."
"Although you've already proven that you can knock us off our feet," added the other with a cheeky grin.
"What're you two doing, Disillusioned like that?" Harry asked, still fairly suspicious, although he knew he was probably just being overly paranoid. He glanced down at the piece of parchment they'd dropped and was surprised to see the names of the Marauders written on the top. "Say, what's this?"
"Nothing," the twins said simultaneously, with identical smirks, but Harry wasn't paying attention. He tried a simple revealing charm on the paper, and an untidy scrawl began appearing on the parchment.
"Messers Prongs and Padfoot would like to convey their utmost pride in the newest member of the Marauders, the dirty mutt named Jetpelt, and would also like to thank the previous holders of the Marauder's Map for its rescue from Filch and its proper safekeeping, ginger snaps though they may be."
"You found the Marauder's Map!" exclaimed Harry, half excited, half incredulous. Padfoot had told him all about the Map he, James, Remus, and Peter had developed during their stay at Hogwarts. Sadly, it had been lost to Filch just days from their graduation because of a bungle on Wormtail's part.
"How d'you know about the Map?" one of the twins asked. He craned his neck to read the parchment, and then added, "and who's Jetpelt?"
"That's me," Harry said. "Don't ask me why that's my nickname, but I know about the map because I know two of the creators and am the offspring of a third. You're looking at a second-generation Marauder right here, fellas."
"You know the Marauders?" they asked in unison, which was starting to creep Harry out a bit. "Who are they?"
"Well, Padfoot is Sirius Black, supposed mass-murderer, traitor, and my lovable, late godfather," Harry started. "Prongs is none other than my dad, James Potter, Wormtail is lowlife traitor Peter Pettigrew, and Moony is the sorely underappreciated Remus Lupin."
"Professor Lupin was a Marauder?" the one with the mole on his left temple asked incredulously. "And here we thought he was just a harmless old werewolf, too."
"Right you are, Fred."
"I thought you were Fred and I was George!"
"Well, now you've got me all mixed up as well, good job!"
"Stop, you're giving me a headache!" Harry said, stopping them from continuing on with their riddiculous, if hilarious, antics. "So, how much for the Map?"
For once, the twins looked serious. "Well, if you're the sole heir to the Marauders, we just wouldn't feel right making you pay for what's rightfully yours," the one with the mole said. "And by the way, I really am Fred."
"You sodding bastard, you almost had me, too. For a second, I really thought I was Fred," said George thoughtfully. "But he's right. I for one would feel guilty."
"Well, here's another idea," Harry said, a slow grin appearing on his face. "How about we bring Hogwarts under the reign of a new Marauder era?"
The twins cracked identical evil smiles. "Oh, brother of mine, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts won't know what hit her, will she?" George said.
"Trust me when I say," Fred added, "that we've got pranks nobody's ever thought about, let alone pulled off before. And if you've got any ideas, which we know you will, just toss 'em about, and we'll figure out how to pull it off."
"So, the second incarnation of the Marauders, then?" Harry asked, holding out his hand. Both twins grasped it, and they shook, all wearing happy smirks that prophesied much humorous antics for the denizens of the castle.
At lunch, after Harry had contented himself with getting acquainted with every member of Gryffindor House, he decided he should also do the same with the other three, and thought, Well, I might as well start with the pretty bird in Slytherin.
When he entered the Great Hall, instead of heading toward the Gryffindor table, he made his way to the one with a mellow green cloth covering it. He spotted the girl immediately, and angled toward her.
Her chestnut-haired friend noticed him first, and nudged her black-tressed companion, who turned to see what she was indicating.
Daphne's eyes went wide when she saw that Harry Potter was making a beeline towards her, and felt the Ice Queen facade melt away under the burning of her cheeks. Cursing her body for reacting in such a manner, she struggled to compose herself.
"Hello, there," Harry said cheerfully, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from the others of House Slytherin. "I'm trying to get to know everyone here so that I can know who I'll be spending three years with. If you missed breakfast, I'm Harry Potter. And you are...?"
The girl took another moment to recover before she said, "Daphne Greengrass. You know, it's not normal for the son of a pair of Gryffindors to come over to the Slytherin table. You're new, so I wouldn't expect you to know that there's a bit of house rivalry going on between the two."
"Oh, I know about that already," Harry said, waving it off and taking a seat between her and the brown-haired girl. "Forgive me if I'm being blunt, but I really don't give a sizzling sack of dragon dung." He turned to the other girl and held out his hand. "Hi, Harry Potter."
"T-Tracey Davis," she managed to choke out, nervously taking the proffered hand. "Meet to nice you. I-I mean, nice to meet you! Damn!"
"No need to be nervous," Harry said with an easy grin he'd learned from Padfoot. "It's just little old me." Then he made a show of introducing himself to the rest of the Slytherins, most of whom reacted with a thoroughly bemused expression and almost automatic handshakes. One, however, wasn't pleased by Harry's actions.
"Hi, I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you."
"Sod off, Potter," Draco Malfoy hissed, looking up from the small black book, faded with age, he'd been absorbed in. "I don't want to sully my hands with a half-breed like yourself." He took a sip of his coffee, then spat it out almost instantly. "Dobby!"
A slight pop later and a trembling house-elf with massive eyes even for one of its species appeared next to the boy. "You called for Dobby, Master Draco?"
"I told you two cubes of sugar and five teaspoons of cream!" Malfoy growled. "What is this rubbish you gave me?"
"Dobby did exactly as you asked, Master Draco," the diminutive humanoid mumbled, wringing his hands to hide their shaking. The pitiful creature wore what looked like a filthy duffel bag with holes cut out for its arms and head. Harry was revolted by how the pureblood treated his servant.
"You did not," seethed Draco. "Take it back, and this time, put five teaspoons of cream and two cubes of sugar, you stupid bloody elf!"
With a thoroughly downtrodden expression, the house-elf took the goblet and vanished with another small pop.
"Well," said Harry, making up his mind. "You are an entirely unenjoyable person to be around. That's not a respectable way to treat your house-elf, even for an inbred piece of filth like yourself."
"What did you just call me?" Malfoy hissed, eyes widening at the insult.
"I don't think I stuttered," Harry replied quietly. He turned to a sixth-year Slytherin boy he'd met named Higgs and said, "Terence, was my statement in any way sullied by a speech impediment?" The dark-haired youth shook his head, amused that the Ponce was getting taken down a few pegs.
"You called me an inbred, you filthy half-blood!" Draco shrieked. "My bloodline is more pure than yours. Your mudblood of a mother made sure of that!" By that time, the whole Hall had decided to eavesdrop on the conversation, and a great gasp went up among the students and staff, and even a drawn-out, 'daaaaamn,' could be heard, probably by Fred and George's black friend Lee. (A/N: Sorry, just had to do it.)
Harry stared, incredulous at this stupid little ferret. "I'm sorry, I must be mistaken. I thought you'd just insulted my mother, but that couldn't be the case, because I've been told that purebloods raise their children with manners and respect for those of higher social standing than themselves."
"You're not higher in the society than I, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Great and Noble House of Malfoy!"
"Really?" Harry said, a grim smile adorning his lips as he tapped his index and middle fingers-which held the Potter and Black rings-against his cheek absentmindedly. "Last time I checked, as Lord of the Noble and Moste Ancient House of Black and the Great and Noble House of Potter, I think I might just be a few light-years ahead of you, cousin of mine." Sirius had informed him early on that when he returned to merry old England, a few purebloods would look down on him because of Lily's parentage, but taught him exactly how to shove his titles in their faces. He even instructed him on the perfect condescending tone in which to deliver it. The Slytherins who heard the comment smirked when reminded that the two of them were distantly related by the marriage of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black.
"So, if I were you," Harry continued, "I wouldn't make any more comments about Lily Potter, or any other Common-born witch or wizard in my presence, or I'll be forced to challenge you to an honor duel, which you would most assuredly lose."
"Prove it, then!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Fight me right now!" He pulled his wand and fired off a surprisingly quick Pain curse. Harry easily dodged, just as he saw the house-elf reappear with a new, steaming mug of coffee, and an idea popped into his mind.
"Alright then, have at you, Draco!" Harry replied. He started conjuring clothing as fast as possible and wandlessly Banishing them at the ponce.
Gotta give him credit, Harry thought as Malfoy incinerated much of his Garment-Barrage with an Immolation hex. A single pair of boxers hit Draco in the face, and Harry took the time to signal Dobby the house-elf and alert him to the plan.
Howling in frustration, the Malfoy scion ripped the underwear off his head and tossed it behind him, then drew an intricate rune with his wand before shouting, "Serpensortia!"
Despite himself, Harry was impressed that the little berk had the power to Conjure a snake, a Brazilian bushmaster, if he wasn't mistaken. With another wave of his wand, Draco Banished the creature in Harry's general direction, but missed by a few yards, and the highly poisonous snake sailed toward the Ravenclaw table and the pretty birds there.
What nobody was expecting was for Harry to Summon the bushmaster to him, starting to speak to it even before it landed in his outstretched hand.
"What's goin' on, bro?" Harry asked in Parseltongue as he caught the creature.
"Nothing much," the bushmaster admitted. "Where am I? One minute, I'm sitting in the reptile house at the London Zoo, and then I'm zooming though the air. What gives, man?" As it said this, the viper started looping itself around Harry's arm for warmth.
"Wait, you're a real animal?" Harry pondered this for a moment. "I thought you'd been Conjured from nothingness. That's strange. Well, anyway, you can chill it on my arm, just do me a favor and scare the piss out of this little bastard for me, would you?" he asked, jerking his head toward Draco Malfoy. The bushmaster bobbed its head up and down, its forked tongue slithering out for a moment.
"Not a smart move, summoning a snake in a duel against a Parseltongue," Harry said offhandedly, striding closer to his fifth cousin. "Catch, cuz!" The bushmaster coiled and shot out, helped by a little magical push from Harry. The bushmaster landed, draping like a scarf, around Draco's neck, and he screamed in a high-pitched soprano voice before Harry, chuckling, Summoned the snake back to him, where it coiled around his arm again and disappeared into his sleeve.
Harry sniffed at the air, and wrinkled his nose almost immediately after. "Geez, did you shit your pants, Draco? I asked Bushy to scare the piss out of you, but damn." The whole Hall burst into laughter as Professor Snape stalked forward.
"Dobby, take me to my dormitory!" Malfoy growled, cheeks flushed and a deep scowl on his face. When no answer was given, the blonde youth turned and shrieked, "Dobby, now!"
The tiny servant creature was standing, holding a pair of boxers in his hands like they were the Holy Grail. He'd been like that since they'd landed in his arms after Draco had thrown them. "Master is giving Dobby underwear," he said hesitantly, as if not truly believing it. "Draco is presenting Dobby with clothes!"
"That's right," Harry quipped with a smirk. "Dobby, you know what that means, don't you?" The house-elf nodded tremulously.
"Dobby is free!" the elf crowed in exultation.
"Although Mr. Potter will not be for the next three months," Snape said, glaring at Harry. "I don't know where you got your manners from, but at Hogwarts, it's not at all polite to incite a duel during lunchtime. You will be serving detentions at eight o'clock sharp, and thirty points from Gryffindor for-"
"Actually, Severus, I believe that it was Mr. Malfoy who began the duel, with a Pain Rack curse if I'm not mistaken. Also, Mr. Potter belongs to no house as of yet, so if anyone is to receive your punishment, it is Draco. Mr. Malfoy, you will report to my office at eight precisely, and your house will have twenty points deducted." The old man started to walk away, then turned slightly and added, "Oh, and I do so enjoy Fizzing Whizbees."
Then he left, leaving a very bewildered and furious Malfoy, who turned to his Head of House. "Come, Mr. Malfoy, I'll float you to the Common Room," Snape said, rolling his eyes and flicking his wand.
"Hey, maybe you should've kept the boxers, Draco," Harry called after them, unable to stop himself.
As the laughter of nearly every person in the Great Hall followed Draco as he was levitated down to the dungeons, he swore that Harry Potter would be repaid for this public dose of humiliation a hundred-fold.
A/N: Well, that's the end of that chapter. This was pretty much just an introduction for Harry into the student body. There will be pranks by the gallons in store for the unsuspecting children of Hogwarts, as well as a whole heap of trouble for the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students when they arrive. Until next time, everyone.