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CHAPTER 3—But My Name's Not-

Draco Malfoy was the kind of person that everybody despised but smart people became 'friends' with so they could use them for their own means. Harry could see in a matter of seconds that his father would tread carefully and make sure to be friendly to a person like Malfoy. So, as much as he hated it, when the bleach-blonde kid held out his hand, Harry swallowed his pride and took it, doing what he knew his dad would have done.

The meeting in the dungeon common room after the feast was over relatively quickly, which Harry was grateful for. Snape kept glaring at him and it made him very uncomfortable. Also, ten o'clock was fast approaching and he did not want to explain to his dad why he couldn't follow simple instructions like 'call before ten.' They'd been given a long list of rules and expectations which Harry had subversively recorded on his ipod while completely ignoring. He planned to convert the long speech to text and then read it. He'd never been an aural learner.

When they were finally dismissed, most of his classmates were falling asleep on their feet from pure exhaustion. But it was only early afternoon for Harry and he was wide awake. He changed into his pajamas anyways though, getting odd and even outwardly hateful looks when he pulled on his red and gold bottoms, which had been given to him by cousin Tony the last Christmas. When he turned so they could see Tony's face on the back pocket, their faces turned incredulous, but they said nothing.

Ignoring his sleepy roommates, he clammered into the large bed and pulled the dark green curtains closed around him. Then he pulled out his smart phone, smiling widely at it when he saw that it was fully charged despite it having only had a half charge that morning. Glancing at the time on the top of the display, he shuddered. Nine fifty eight. He hit the speed dial for his dad and pressed the phone to his ear as it rang.

It rang twice before Harry heard his dad answer. "Harry, cutting it a bit close here."

"I know, Dad," he replied quickly and in a low voice, hoping his roommates were asleep and not listening. "I just got to my room."

Nathan hummed an acknowledgement. "So tell me all about it, Harry. Did you make any friends?"

And Harry told him. He spoke in a low voice about how he'd met Neville and they'd gotten along really well then he told his dad about the sorting and how the hat had given him the option of resorting at the end of the year. He could almost hear his dad's skeptically raised eyebrow in the silence. Then he talked about the food—it was too heavy—and told him what the common room and dorm were like and finally, about meeting Malfoy. "He's such a jerk, Dad. A complete bully. He walks around like he's in charge of everything. But I wasn't mean to him. I mean, it would be bad to get on the wtong end of that, right?" His tone asked for confirmation and assurance.

"Right, Harry. You did well. But that doesn't mean you need to spend your time with him. Try staying friends with Neville. You should spend time with people you like being around as much as possible."

Harry nodded, comforted slightly. There was a long pause, which Nathan interrupted. "I've got a meeting, son. Are you going to be alright there 'till morning?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Not tired at all, but fine."

"Alright. Just make sure you get up in the morning. Missing your first classes is a bad plan."

"Gotcha. Thanks Dad."

"Call me tomorrow. Afternoon or evening is preferable, but if you really need me, you can call any time."

"I know."

"Alright then. Go to sleep, Harry. You might not be tired, but if you try, you might surprise yourself and you need to get used to that time zone."

"Uh-huh."

"Goodnight, Harry."

"'Night Dad."

And then the phone call was cut off. Sighing, Harry leaned back against the pillows and pulled out his ipod, setting to work transcribing that long-winded speel from earlier.

As he read it, Harry decided that it was all mostly useless and decided to ignore it. He played some music and pulled out his book on magical theory. He was five chapters in when his eyes finally started to feel tired. He looked down at the time and saw it was after midnight. Putting the book aside, he went through the empty common room to the loo, relieved himself and washed his hands and face before running wet fingers through his hair and smiling when it stuck up at odd spiky angles. He slid under the covers then and read another chapter before closing his eyes, turning off his light, and attempting to sleep.

Harry woke to several squeals of shock coming from his roommates. He heard a thump and a yelp as one of them fell to the floor and he groaned as he rolled over. His ears quickly adjusted to his waking state and suddenly music was heard.

And girls, they wanna have fu-un! Yeah, girls just wanna have fun!

Harry groaned louder and pushed aside his covers to grope around for his bedside table. On its surface was his glass case, which he quickly opened and removed the glasses from, and his phone, which was vibrating as it played the music that was continually getting louder. He shoved the glasses onto his face and snatched up the phone. He stabbed at the answer button and scowled as he pressed the now quiet phone to his ear. "I'm up now, Dad. That was cruel and uncalled for."

"I realized after I talked to you how unreasonable it was of me to expect you to wake up on your own. Screams and thuds sometimes rouse you though, so waking your roommates was the next best option." Harry could hear the smirk and his scowl deepened.

"It's the middle of the night, Dad."

"Your time, it's seven in the morning. Go take a shower, put in your contacts, and get ready for school. And don't forget to eat fruit at breakfast."

"Fine. Also, changing your ringtone isn't cool. I hate that song." Harry hung up the phone and looked around at his staring classmates.

"Wha—what w-was that?" one of them asked.

Harry flopped his head down into his hands and sighed.

"It's my phone. My dad called to wake me up because I still have severe jetlag. I'm sorry that it woke you up too."

"What do you mean by your dad?" another one asked.

"I mean my dad. The man who I've lived with since I was a year old."

"What's a fone?"

"It's my smart phone. A non-magical thing. It's a kind of communication device."

"That's not possible," Malfoy piped up. "Muggle devices don't work in Hogwarts."

"Mine do. Now, I'm going to go take a shower." Harry gathered up a set of clothing, his soap and shampoo, his toothbrush, and his contacts and went out through the common room to the enormous bathroom, ignoring the rest of his classmates' questions.

When he'd finished his shower and pulled on his uniform, he went to the nearest free sink and unscrewed the lids for his contact case. Even that small action brought odd looks. When he placed the right contact on his finger and proceded to poke it into his eye, several people gasped. Harry stepped back, his hands on the counter. "Would you all just shut up, please? And stop staring? It's hard enough to put these things in without distractions."

They didn't listen and he had to try several times before he got the left one in. When he looked in the mirror at his now brown eyes, he smiled, despite the people staring at him. He ran his fingers up through his hair to make it even messier, knowing that his dad wasn't here to tell him not to, and set about brushing his teeth. When he was done, he shied away from the stares and just took his things back to the dorm room.

It was seven forty. He quickly plugged in his ipod, perfectly content to not be able to hear what other people were saying for a while, and started putting his books and pencils and notebooks into his bag. It ended up being heavy and he was concerned that his fountain pen would break if anything was jostled too much. He couldn't help but wonder why they weren't given their schedules before the classes started so they knew which books to bring.

He slipped out of the dorm and throught the common room and followed a couple of older girls to the great hall, where he happily dug into his breakfast. He still didn't want to be in England, but he was determined to make the most of it since he couldn't get out of it.

When he got to the Great Hall, it was still pretty empty and he slid onto a deserted bench with a sigh. Looking around at his options, there wasn't much. He grabbed some french toast and some applesauce, pouring the crushed apples over the bread before picking it up and taking a large bite from it. He took a sip of pumpkin juice and nearly spit it out. It was disgusting. He figured he might be able to get used to it, but he'd prefer not to. Standing up, he walked half-way down the table to get some milk instead.

He wasn't left in peace at the table for long though, and he was just beginning to enjoy his breakfast when Malfoy and two thugs plopped down next to him.

"What did you mean by 'dad', Potter? Everyone knows you're an orphan and people said you were sent off to live with muggles."

Harry rolled his eyes, trying his best not to get angry. "Yeah, my dad wasn't magical, but that really shouldn't make any difference. He's a genius and at least as rich as your dad, I'm sure, and completely great. Also, my name isn't Potter. It's Stark." He took another bite of apple toast and chewed thoughtfully.

"You went to live with muggles and you took their name?"

Harry swallowed, took a gulp of milk, then breathed in deeply before responding. "Yes, Malfoy, I have the same last name as my dad. Shocker, I know."

Malfoy began to eat some porridge as the hall filled, sitting in silence for a few minutes. Apparently coming to a decision about something, he spoke again. "Alright then, Stark, tell us, what have you been up to these last ten years? You are the supposed savior of the wizarding world after all. People want to know."

"You want to know?" He laughed a bit, taking another swig of milk. "Sure. You just want to be able to wave it over people's heads that you know more than other people do. Tell you what: you answer any questions I have about the wizarding world and spread only the information I approve, and I'll tell you just about anything you want to know about the boy who lived."

Malfoy lit up. "Deal!"

Harry bit into a banana as the schedules were being handed out and took his from the prefect without a word, scanning down it as he ate. He had double potions first.

Worrying about his potions supplies, which he hadn't seen in his trunk but hadn't looked for either, he leaned over to Malfoy, hoping he didn't sound like a complete idiot. "Will we need to go back to the common room to fetch our potions stuff before class?"

Malfoy scoffed at him, looking at him like he was a complete dunce—the exact reaction he was hoping to avoid. "No, the house elves took all potions supplies to the potions classroom. They'll be in the cupboards when we get there."

Harry nodded, thankful they wouldn't have to take the detour, and nervous for his first class in a room full of other children.

"So?" Malfoy asked. "Give me something interesting."

"Alright," Harry mumbled, trying to think of something. "A few years ago, my step-brother stared at me without blinking for half an hour."

"That's not even about you," complained Malfoy. "Wait, you have a step-brother?"

Harry made a face. "Yeah, technically. His mom and my dad aren't together anymore but I don't think the divorce papers ever went through since Dad put them through the shredder when he got them."

Malfoy looked at him, jaw hanging open. "That's fantastic," he breathed, "Now don't tell anyone else until I get the chance to!"

Harry shrugged, reaching for another piece of toast and Malfoy stood up and walked to another part of the table. Finishing off the toast, Harry pulled out his potions book and began to read, preparing himself for the class ahead.

Harry entered the potions classroom with the other students and immediately spotted Neville. Relieved, he went over and sit next to him. Neville looked panicked. "You alright?" Harry asked.

"Y-yeah," Neville stammered out, "It's just, well, you're a Slytherin. How did that happen?"

"I dunno, that's just where the hat put me-" Snape pulled out the list of names and everyone was suddenly silent. Harry thought it was creepy, but he didn't want to be the one breaking it.

Then Snape began calling out roll. When he got to Harry's name, he looked up. "Ah yes, Harry Potter, out new—celebrity." His eyes searched the room until he found Harry sitting next to Neville.

"Sir," Harry started carefully, hand raised tentatively in the air.

"Quiet."

Harry was quiet.

When Snape reached the end of the roll and then finished his frankly disturbing speech, his eyes returned to Harry. "Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry was caught off guard by the question, but he saw the bushy-haired girl from the train raise her hand. "I'm not sure, sir, but my name's-"

"Tut, tut-fame clearly isn't everything." Harry scowled at being cut off. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"The cabinet over there which is labelled potion's supplies, Sir," said Harry, pointing, "but my name's not-"

"Three points from Slytherin for cheek, Potter," Snape said as the girl raised her hand higher. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They're the same plant," Harry answered, inwardly fuming, "but my-"

"Sit down!" he said to the girl, who was now standing up with her hand stretched up in the air. He looked rather upset that Harry knew the answer to that one. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and-"

"But my name's not Potter!" Harry snapped. "My name is Harry Stark!" Harry was standing up now, but when the cold black eyes met his, he sat down again.

"Another three points," Snape said before continuing his speech, which he ended with a demand for them to copy it down. Harry then lost another point for trying ot write with a ballpoint and told to use a quill and parchment like a normal person.

The rest of class went a lot like that. Harry and Neville's potion was completed just as well as the bushy-haired girl's since Harry was used to working with chemicals and such, but they didn't get any kind of acknowledgement. To be fair, though, neither did the girl, who Harry remembered was Hermione. Harry also learned quite a lot about magical reactions and how they mixed with chemical reactions. If it hadn't been so awful, he would have actually loved that class. And aside from the seething anger he felt, he was actually quite excited to be learning things.

Lunch was full of heavy foods again and Harry would have loved some simple yogurt and chips and sandwiches, but he settled for taking two pieces of thick bread and putting some chicken between them. He wasn't sure if they were allowed to sit at different tables yet and Neville seemed pretty terrified by the idea, so Harry was sitting next to Blaise Zabini for this meal.

"Draco says you've got a step-mum," Blaise said.

"Yeah," Harry replied around his mouthful of bread and chicken.

"I've had six step-dads."

Harry swallowed roughly and gaped. "Really?"

"Yeah. I wasn't ever close to any of them. It can be hard sometimes."

Harry was shocked that this boy was opening up to him of all people. "I don't like my step-mom," he said. "There's only the one, though. I don't know how I'd cope if my dad had a new steady girlfriend every couple of years, let alone a wife."

Blaise nodded, taking a bite of his shephard's pie. Harry waited for him to say something more, but he didn't, so, shrugging, Harry went back to his meal in silence.

It didn't last though, and as soon as he'd taken another large bite, a Ravenclaw second year was tapping him on the shoulder. "Is it true you're Harry Potter?"

He wanted to bang his head on the table, but that would have accomplished nothing. Swallowing with difficulty due to the limited amount of chewing time, Harry turned to face the girl. "No," he said. "My name is Harry Stark, I would much rather not be in England right now, thank you very much, and I'd appreciate it if people would stop interrupting my meals." He turned back to his food, popped a grape in his mouth, and saw Blaise attempting to hide a smile. That was when Harry knew that Blaise was a person he wanted as a friend.

The first years had friday afternoons free, so as soon as he'd finished his lunch, Harry nervously walked over to the gryffindor table to talk to Neville. "Do you want to do the potions assignment together today?" he asked. The other gryffindors looked at him oddly, being a slytherin, but none of them had said anything yet. Neville nodded and Harry smiled. "You want to see if we can find the library, then?"

Harry and Neville went down to the dungeons so Harry could drop off all the extra books he didn't need and Neville looked around the common room and then the dorms with a facial expression of pure fear and awe. "Am I even allowed in here?" he squeaked.

"Maybe not," Harry replied, "but it's my fault you are, so I'll take the blame." They were lucky that the common room area was so deserted, what with it still being technically lunchtime and when they left the dungeons again and went up to the second floor, where Snape had indicated the library could be located during his incredibly long and dull speech the night before, Neville was still looking slightly terrified.

When they found the library, which was more obvious and less hidden than he had believed it would be considering his luck and the fact that they were in a magical castle, they happily settled down at a table, both boys feeling quite relieved that they were in a safe place. They got out their homework then, and had it done in less than an hour. Their grins were wide enough to light up the library.

"Do you want to meet my dad?" Harry asked nervously as they ducked under a tapesty that they hadn't passed through earlier.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I figue that my phone is in my pocket, it's mid-morning there, and we're completely lost, so we might as well sit down and wait for someone to find us."

Apparently, Neville hadn't realized that they were lost, because that was what he focused on. "What do you mean, we're lost?"

"Don't worry about it—I'm sure someone will find us soon," he said, plopping down on the floor and leaning against the wall. He patted the ground next to him and took out his phone. Neville sat down cautiously. Harry dialed the number and put the phone on speaker. Neville was curious.

"What's it doing?"

"The ringing happens on both sides and it's alerting me that it's alerting him that he has a call. Harry didn't think Neville quite understood, based on the blank look.

"What is it, Harry?" The ringing had stopped and Neville had jumped, moving a full two feet away.

"Hey, Dad," Harry said calmly. "Me and Neville got a bit lost on the way back from the library and I figured I could give you a call to pass the time."

And so it was that Nathan Stark heard all about potions class and got to know his son's first friend.

For anyone wondering, Cousin Tony is not Iron Man yet. That will happen in about four years from the current point in the story's timeline.

Please tell me what you think! Reviews are highly motivational and make my day!

Thanks for reading!

-MP