Author's Note: We've reached the One Year anniversary of The Laughing Slytherin's first posting, and what a year it's been! On FFN this story has 200+ reviews, +300 favs, and nearly 500 follows! (There's bound to be a lot of overlap between those, but that's still a lot!) In terms of writing there's also been strides. I'm almost done chapter 100, so these postings won't catch up to my writing for at least another year. (I confess, that thought terrifies me. Harry's only just celebrated his 13th birthday, so there's so much more to write!) At 275,000 words and 700+ pages the story got so big I had to divide it into separate documents. ^^' That's almost a bittersweet achievement, but funny all the same. There has also been several months where my writing went into an existential crisis. (Let's just say Chamber of Secrets gets interesting, and I don't know if that's a good thing or not.) Hopefully you enjoy the direction that year goes.

I appreciate everyone's comments and follows on this story this past year. The Laughing Slytherin started as a one-shot to handle writer's block, and it's wild to see how far it's come after four years! Having you on this journey with me is a grateful delight!

One more thing! Since it's been a year and next chapter is super short, I'm up for posting a Q&A. If you have any questions about the story so far, feel free to PM me or post them in the reviews and I'll add the answers to next week's chapter.

Monday January 13th, 1992

"You're annoying me, do you know that?" Melissa growled harshly. She sat at the edge of her seat, elbows bent on knees so that her head was supported by her fingertips. She glared at the intruder before her. "I just don't get it. You're a novelty. An outcast. You don't belong here. Yet here you are, in my studio - My sanctuary in this castle- mocking me with your very presence. So I need to know why and how, in Merlin's name, did you end up here?"

The balalaika leaned innocently against the wall.

Having seen enough of the one-sided exchange, Domonkos and Harry Potter chose that moment to step deeper into the room with wary concern. "Melissa… why are you talking to that instrument?"

"It's mocking me." The girl muttered, eyes not breaking contact.

"I see." Domonkos turned behind him to gauge Potter's reaction, but the boy simply met his eye and offered a helpless shrug. The two boys have long been accustomed to their friend's mad ravings. Mad ravings which are -in fact- silly childish exaggerations merely mimicking a sense of madness. Best dealt with as though dealing with a small child. "And how is it mocking you?"

"Domonkos!" She whined, lifting her head towards him while her hand gestured at the simple instrument. "It's a balalaika, in Hogwarts -hell- in Scotland! Doesn't that seem weird to you? It belongs in the cities of the Soviet, yet it's here!"

Domonkos' lips pressed together in a failed attempt to hold back a smile. "Melissa, it is an instrument only. It does not need a grand mystery."

"But someone had to have put it here!" The girl whined. "This room has every lost or hidden musical instrument at Hogwarts. There's no way someone lost a balalaika! You can't just bring something as weird as a balalaika and just… forget it! Someone must have put it here on purpose. ...Maybe they were mocked for having one, or a Russian exchange student wanting to put his past behind him and go full British?" She wondered in a conspiratorial tone.

Domonkos chuckled at the wild conspiracies. A snort from Potter revealed the same sentiment. "Perhaps, but I much doubt it. I can't imagine what it would be like to leave my old country behind, completely." He walked over to the balalaika and inspected it curiously. "If it bothers you so, why not put it in a cupboard and forget it is here?"

"I can't." The girl moaned.

"Why not?" Domonkos turned to gauge his friend's response.

"Because it keeps mocking me. It's practically screaming 'I'm a mystery. Play me and learn my secrets!'"

Potter's eyes alighted with mirth. "Melly, are you saying that it wants you to play it, or that you want to play it?"

"...Yes."

The boys chuckled, enjoying the game of rooting out their friend's true ravings. Plucking the instrument from its place on the wall, Domonkos all but tossed it into her arms. "Then you should play it."

Melissa looked up at him mournfully. "But I have to work on learning the Weird Sisters' instruments for this summer. I can't take on a new instrument now!"

"There's no shame in learning for both fun and work." The boy shrugged. "After all, you have all semester to prepare. Surely you can spend enough time learning one instrument for yourself?"

The girl looked down at the stringed instrument in her hands, then down to her right where Crumb's bagpipe lay in waiting. "...I suppose." She considered.

"Excellent." The boy grinned, silently congratulating himself. "So long as you're willing to do that, can you also make sure to attend dinner and spend time with friends?"

The girl rolled her eyes at the prod. "Yes, dad." She strained with a mocking tone.

Domonkos failed to keep his amusement at bay. The mocking denial was too good of an opening to pass up. "In that case, perhaps you can step out of this room, now? You are late for our VATIC meeting."

It took only a moment of absorption for the girl to spring out of her seat. "Shit, I forgot! Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

Domonkos' impish amusement was unbridled. "Because we found you interrogating a balalaika, of all things. Ensuring you are only half mad was a higher priority."

"Oh, ha ha." The girl mocked. She raced about the room to put away the instruments and gather her things. "Can you at least help me?"

"No." He purred. He even raised a hand to Potter to halt him from coming closer. "It is your fault for spending all afternoon here. It makes a more fun punishment to watch you hurry."

"You're an ass." Melissa muttered. "Keep it up and you won't get a songbird."

Domonkos laughed. "Unlikely. You would never refuse a Valentine's gift to someone."

Melissa did her best to deliver a haughty glare at Domonkos. "Who knows. For you I might make an exception."

Heading towards the exit, Potter opened the door and lifted a small container in Melissa's direction. "Here, Melly. I had the house elves save some dinner for you."

"Yes!" Melissa hissed merrily. "See, Harry knows how to be a wonderful friend. Thank you, Harry." She kissed the boy atop his head, then turned and stuck a tongue out at Domonkos.

"If you encourage her, she'll only get worse." Domonkos warned.

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Potter replied with a lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, Domonkos. Listen to Harry." Melissa mocked, offering a mischievous smile. "Now hurry up or you'll be late for the meeting!" She promptly sped out the door with a laugh, leaving the boys in the dust.

Potter laughed in her wake. "We should have seen that coming."

Domonkos rolled his eyes. "It's inevitable with her, but thank you for showing me how to find this room."

"You're welcome." Potter nodded. Closing the door behind him, Potter walked along his side. "So, you're doing songbirds this year?"

"Yes. Though I hope you keep that to yourself. These things are to be a surprise." Potter's eyes seemed to gauge him at that moment, trying to size up if the warning was a threat. The look annoyed Domonkos, truthfully. Was he not punished enough for helping the boy last summer? Still, he did not wish to risk any further distrust. That considered, he forced himself to switch into a smile. "I find there is a ...unique joy, giving a valentine. You will understand on the day. Perhaps next year you would like to join? I have seen your work in the Art Club. We can always use new ideas."

Potter was reasonably taken aback by the offer. The distrust in his eyes blinked away, leading to confusion, then consideration. "That could be fun. I'll need to think about it, though."

"Of course." Domonkos nodded. "You have much time. See what we do next month. It may give you inspiration."

Friday February 14th, 1992

Valentine's Day was set to be an unusual day for Harry. Breakfast began simple enough. He chatted with his housemates about potions class and weekend plans. Then the owls came. Dozens of them flew to where they sat, and over half of them flocked directly to Harry. He tried his best to politely remove the letters and packages one at a time, but the barrage of owls left their table covered with feathers and nipping birds as they vied for their pick of the delivery. Eventually Lily and Wayne had to start helping him to have any hope of eating the rest of their meal, but they were good-natured about it, teasing the flustered boy all the while.

"I never took you for a Casanova, Harry." Wayne grinned as he added another card to the pile.

"I'm not!" Harry replied hotly. "I don't even know who most of these people are."

"Upper years, I'll bet you." Oliver mused, his own plate relatively unscathed.

"Older girls! I'm impressed." Wayne elbowed him gently in the ribs.

"It's not like I'm trying!" Harry answered, his rebuttal falling against a chorus of laughter.

After a trip back to his dorms to deposit the letters, Harry headed further down towards the dungeons. As he walked, though, he found his side jostled by Theodore Nott.

Harry bit down an urge to shout, instead growling out a simple. "Mind where you're going, Nott."

"Not my fault you were in my way, Puffer." Nott answered as if the action was entirely reasonable.

Behind Nott, Parkinson lifted her nose at him. "Probably ate all of those chocolates before coming here. Now it's impossible to step around him."

"Guess he really is Harry Puffer, now." Nott grinned.

Harry rolled his eyes at the two of them. His health potions may have helped him reach a reasonable weight over the past year, but their attempts to insult his (still relatively thin) frame were simply idiotic. "If it's really a concern I can always send some your way, seeing as your seats were both lacking this morning." The comment was received with hard glares from the two of them, which Harry took in stride as he joined his friends inside the classroom.

Today they were brewing forgetfulness potion. It was a simple enough potion, judging by the instructions, and Harry got right to work on it. The first half was completed in a matter of minutes, after which Harry prepared his next set of ingredients. He finished his prep with 20 minutes to spare, so he opted to pull out the textbook for some light reading. Reaching for the book, a grip of sharp stings met his hand. He yelped loudly, wrenching his hand away -and pulling his textbook and a biting teacup along with it. Harry managed to fling the teacup off of him, the toothy little beast hopping away with a laugh-like huff. Unfortunately, it didn't stop Professor Snape from stalking towards him with a sneer.

"Three points for disrupting your classmates, Mr. Potter."

Harry winced in a breath, but held back both his hand and his temper. "Understood, professor."

Professor Snape continued to loom over him, no doubt trying to find something wrong with his potion. "Do you find this potion so easy, Mr. Potter, can you peruse a book at leisure?"

"I have-" He eyed his wristwatch, "16 minutes until the next step. I didn't think that would be a problem."

The potions master raised his brow with a haughty expression. "So exact, Mr. Potter. Tell me, why select that time frame when the potion specifies a range between 45 to 60 minutes?"

"Well… a longer simmering time makes valerian more potent, but going over 60 minutes risks the drinker from having a sluggish mind for days afterward. So I've timed my simmer at 55 minutes to prevent that risk."

The professor's face was impassive, which in Harry's books meant he passed that particular question. "If the valerian is such a problem, why not reduce the dosage?"

"The ratio needs to be balanced with the Lethe river water, sir." Harry answered. "Without valerian's soothing qualities, the river water will just attack the memories and put the drinker in pain and at risk for brain damage."

The man's face frowned just slightly. "That is correct, Mr. Potter. Keep your attention on your potion." With that, the professor simply walked away from his desk.

Without the man's presence, Harry released a quiet breath. Glancing at his side, Kevin offered him a small thumbs up, which Harry replied to with a slight shrug. He then checked over his pained hand of any wounds, keeping it well on the desk for the rest of class while his mind plotted on ways of payback.

Harry arrived somewhat late to the great hall for lunch. It was lucky for him that the biting teacup had only done small tears to his hand, so Madam Pomfrey had him fixed up quickly before shooing him away for a quick bite to eat. Once he arrived, however, he skipped his usual place and opted to sit at the Gryffindor table. Specifically in front of a pair of notorious twins.

"Gentlemen." He greeted them with a roguish smile. "I hope you two are having yourselves a marvellous Valentine's Day."

The two boys met each other's glances before looking back at him. "We are having a lovely day, aren't we Gred?"

"Certainly, Forge."

"And what brings you here, little badger?"

"Or was it little Bennett?"

"I thought it was little Potter?"

"Depends on the hat, I wager."

"Too true, brother dear."

"It's less about the hat and more about the rabbit I plan to pull from it." Harry commented. "Or should I say the bunny?"

The Weasleys' grins darkened with mischief. At once leaning in close with piercing eyes. "We're listening."

"I need a broom and two fanged frisbees for this Sunday. I'm happy to negotiate a price."

One of the boys looked at his brother with a scandalous flair. "A broom, brother! Can you believe it?"

"Indeed! Asking to borrow one of our brooms a week before our match against Hufflepuff. It's mightily suspicious."

"Terribly suspect."

"Certainly nefarious."

The third boy watched the exchange with a somewhat befuddled amusement. "And I suppose during this exchange I'll somehow, what, jinx the broom to throw you off during the game?"

"Are you?" One of the boys teased.

"...Sure." He deadpanned. "I've somehow learned a jinx strong enough to mess with anti-jinx infused brooms and made it so obvious that it was me by asking to borrow it that you'll not suspect it was me because it would seem too obvious. It's the perfect setup."

"I'll admit, it's deviously brilliant." The second brother commented. Followed immediately with both of them stating. "So it's bollocks."

"Well I'm glad we can all agree on something." Harry nodded with a laugh. With the interrogation settled, the three of them finalized themselves on a price and a time to meet on Sunday. Once the deal was shaken on, Harry left the two Weasleys and moved further down the table. He gave a quick wave to Ron, who was in conversation with Dean and Seamus; then he sat himself beside Neville and greeted him warmly. While they talked, he couldn't help but notice Hermione sitting across from them, muttering to herself harshly while glaring and waving her hand at a biscuit. "What are you doing?"

Stopping her motions, Hermione's hand dropped with a groan. "I am trying to make a biscuit levitate, but it won't budge even a little!"

Neville gave the girl a sympathetic look. "I tried to tell her not to bother, but she won't listen."

"Wandless magic would be an incredible skill to have." Hermione argued. "If I don't practice, how else can I succeed?"

"She has a point." Harry added. "You never know when you might find yourself without a wand."

Neville shuddered at the thought. "Hopefully I never have to worry about that. I can't imagine what it would be like living without a wand again."

Harry nodded absently at that. It wasn't a big concern for his own life, but Neville had told him about his uncle Algie and the balcony. Sure, he's doing well in class these days -charms and herbology, especially- but the boy would be pants at using wandless magic. Harry turned his attention back to Hermione. "I can try to help, if you'd like? Maybe we can practice on Monday after defence?"

"I suppose." Hermione grumbled. Giving up on the study, she picked up the biscuit with a disappointed sigh and bit it in half.

With the conversation clearly over, Harry took it as a cue to fill his own plate with something to eat. Just as he was in the process of cutting slices of roast beef, however, the hall bloomed with the sound of music. He, and those around him, turned curiously towards the entrance of the hall. The rest of the students hushed into silence. They, of course, already knew the source of such music. For Harry, though, this was an experience he had only heard about in letters. He watched as a quartet of students entered the room. Each came in with instruments in hand and were dressed head to toe in what could only be described as tie-dyed robes. The sight caused Harry to chuckle once he recognized they were playing to the tune of Cyndi Lauper's True Colors.

After Melly's quartet walked through, the group of eight gift-givers walked inside. They, too, were in a colourful attraction of tie-dyed robes. Harry watched in fascination as they broke into pairs and visited the long lines of students. Though the division was a bit curious to Harry. In letters Melly said that the group always paired in such a way that they were different from the tables they visited. This time they seemed to take a different route, where the usual pairs now had one student from the table's house. In this case, Domonkos and one of the gryffindor chasers were the ones making deliveries at the gryffindor table.

His curiosity shifted from that point as he watched the gift-giving commence. Harry expected that the wagons would be carrying songbirds, but he stood corrected when the pair pulled out a selection of colourful eggs. Slowly, the music of the hall was joined by a crackling sound. The music seemed to quiet in time with the noise. Then, with a pop, the eggs hatched completely. Elegant songbirds in tie-dye patterns emerged from their eggs, trilling and swooping once around their intended Valentine before landing on shoulders to croon soft music.

One by one the eggs hatched. Song by song their voices filled the hall in airy melody. The students delighted at the spectacle; moreso as they each received their own birds. Soon enough, the gift-givers arrived where Harry, Neville, and Hermione sat. Egg in hand, Domonkos blinked in surprise.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Longbottom." He murmured gently to Neville, depositing the egg in the boy's hands. He then gave Harry a curious smile. "You are meant to be at the Hufflepuff table for this. No matter." He turned around to the hufflepuff table and caught the attention of the gift givers. "Cedric, you have Potter's egg, yes?"

"Yes, right here." Cedric pulled an egg out from the wagon and handed it over to Domonkos.

"There we are!" He turned back to Harry with a gracious smile. "Happy Valentine's Day, Potter."

"Thank you, Soros." Harry took the egg with a nod. He watched gleefully as the egg hatched the colourful bird. It chirped happily, fluttering around him before breaking into song. The sound made him pause with a sense of familiarity. He's heard this melody before. Yes, Melly played it for him back in August. You're about to enter a world of magic, Harry Potter, and such an occasion deserves its own theme tune. She had teased him at the time. It was supposed to be called Hedwig's Theme; but, well, guess for this timeline I can make an exception.

Harry chuckled at the memory. The way she had winked while he rolled his eyes at her inability to accept being proved wrong about the future. "I suppose I ought to give you a name?" He offered the bird. "How about Hedwig?" The rainbow bird trilled loudly in its song, and nuzzled against his chin as it continued to sing. Harry laughed at the reaction, then left his seat to give the songbird a proper introduction to the Melody that created her.

A/N: In the HP Wiki, the Room of Requirement list of items includes a "triangular banjo". I tried to find a picture of one, but searches all show a balalaika. That said, be it banjo or balalaika, how can I NOT bring it up?!