(Harry came into the world at the end of July, 1978. He was premature, but it didn't really matter. Lily hadn't had nearly enough time to adjust to the idea either way. They'd not known she was pregnant until May, when her stomach was getting harder and rounder. By graduation, she had a swell the size of a melon that, thankfully, was easily disguised. The birth and the wedding following that, were harder to hide.

Three and a half years later had them all sat in the Longbottoms' drawing room, fellow newly inducted Order members. The Dark Lord struck that night, only someone struck back. Little Archibald Potter, a mere year and some old, was lauded for his role in saving his family, the Longbottoms, and the world. It had been Harry that fell unconscious with the effort of saving his mother's life from Lord Voldemort, but this was a distinction unnoticed for quite some time. )


Archie hated his name.

Harry found this rather stupid, because all their friends and their friends' families had ridiculously wizardish names, too. In fact, except their father, he didn't know anyone else with as plain a name as Harry. It wasn't even short for anything. He'd thought his father had named him, so that they would be matching - James and Harry, utterly boring. But no, his mum had named him Harry Charles Potter, the second name for her own muggle father and the first simply because she liked the sound of it. Or so she said. Harry often wished he had a more wizardly name, like his brother, Archibald. That sounded serious, at least. And no one took Harry very seriously.

They should. He was older, after all. He was already eleven years old. It was a mere two years difference, but those years felt like an eternity. Archie was too slow, too loud, too much for Harry. He was also his brother, so naturally he was stuck with him.

"I want to go too," Archie told him, as if Harry didn't know.

"You can't," he said, for what must've been the nine hundredth time. "You aren't old enough."

"I don't want you to leave yet," he told him.

"I'm not," he said back. "I've only just gotten my letter, you know."

"Play with me," he demanded. "Aurors and Dark wizards!"

"I don't want to," Harry said.

"Play with your brother," his dad said from the head of the table, not looking up from his paper. "Could do with some good up-and-coming Aurors."

"I don't want to be an Auror," Harry told him.

"Well, maybe your brother will carry on the family tradition," he looked up to wink at Archie. "It's not all about you, you know." This was directed at Harry.

"Mum, I don't want to play. I want to read."

"You always read," Archie said.

"I do not," Harry lied. He was often in a book, but sometimes he wondered if this fact had anything to do with avoiding the endless energy of Archibald.

"Or break stuff," Archie continued, evilly. "Read or blow things up, that's all you ever do -and you never play with me anymore." Harry ground his teeth.

"Archie, if you want Harry to play with you maybe don't provoke him," mum said.

"What's provoke?"

"When you're trying to make him mad," she told him.

Their dad snorted aggressively at something in the paper, before flipping the page loudly.

"Anything?" She asked him, attention switched.

"Concerned citizens," he said mockingly. "It's rubbish what Rita gets away with these days. That Act needs to pass, and all she can do is stir up discord. Some people never change, but now some of those same have a platform. She's gone and painted the old families with the 'victim' brush. Please."

"Sounds like her," Lily said, with a matching snort to his earlier one.

"Play with me," Archie said, no longer interested in his parents.

"No," Harry said, a little harsher.

"Come on, you're going to leave me for ages and ages!" His mum shot him a warning look. She had this great sense for when Harry was going to get mean. He hated it.

"...Fine. But I want to be the dark wizard this time."

Lily and James interlaced their fingers and watched their sons get up from the table, one rather reluctantly.

"They're growing up," she said softly.

"I remember my first year at Hogwarts like it was yesterday," James said fondly. "Though, I'm not sure where Harry will sort."

"Ravenclaw," Lily said. "I'd bet money on it."

"No bet," James said.

"Only because I'd win," she said, leaning in for a lingering kiss.

Harry and his brother Archie lived in Potter cottage, a home that had been in the family for just about forever. Their mother often called the place medieval, fondly, and it was. It had only two floors (and a large greenhouse on the land), which were all closed off by doors like in a time when heating had to be conserved. The first floor had a large, obtrusive suit of armour in the sitting room that Harry did not like at all. Apparently he used to cry when he'd see it, but it was a Potter heirloom. It stayed.

From the sitting room you could reach the hall, which was very tall and narrow (the ceilings of the first floor were nearly four meters), and without any natural light, except when the front door was open. There are many other details that could be told about the Potter cottage, but it isn't too important at the moment, because the only thing one needs to know is that there aren't many places to hide.

It was nearly the first of September now, and Harry was indulging his brother in what he hoped to be his last game of hide and seek. Maybe after Harry came back for the holidays, Archibald will have grown out of his love for playing games and grown into his stern name.

One can hope.

Harry glared at the suit of armour, his own personal ritual. "Hate that thing," he muttered under his breath. Now that he had exhausted all options (there were so few in Potter cottage), he knew his brother could only be hiding in one place. Their father's office.

It was totally off-limits. Not because dad was so very secretive or so very strict, but because they hadn't really studied any magic or could use spells. Firstly, it was disrespectful and intrusive. Secondly, father's office was filled with magical knick-knacks and cursed objects - and because they couldn't tell the difference they were to leave the room well enough alone. Harry had snuck in a few times, of course. It was irresistible. He'd gotten in loads of trouble, but almost gotten away with it once. That was only because he'd already stolen his father's invisibility cloak. After his dad had a roaring laugh and gave him a pat on the back for his troubles, he was, once again, in loads of trouble.

He figured his dad was right - he needed to learn more spells before he could deal with the office. Not for safety, really, but to be undetected at least once. To really have time to look around.

Harry was a grand snoop.

Anyway, Archie must be in there. Therefore, Harry must go in to look for him, because he was his big brother and had to watch after him while mum was out. He would have to thank Archie for the small opportunity one day, when he understood it.

The door was never locked, but he knew time was limited before his mum was here. She (and his father, though he was at work) would've been alerted as soon as Archie went inside. Mum was at Alice's house, but she would be coming back now because of Archie, and wouldn't be pleased. At least it wasn't Harry's fault.

He slid inside. "Archie," he called out. "Where are you? You can't hide forever," he said spookily. He heard a giggle.

Behind the grey cabinets. He reached around with a hand and Archie shrieked. "Stop it, Harry!"

"Found you," he said leaning over and leering. Now that that was done, he began to look around the office. Archie stood and dusted himself off.

"We aren't supposed to be in here -" he began.

"Well, you're the one who hid in here," Harry interrupted. "I was just finding you."

"Don't snoop," Archie said. "Dad'll be mad if you do again."

"Won't they be mad I had to come in here looking for you? I mean, mum's on her way back early for certain - because you've snuck in here and set off their intruder charms."

Archie shifted guiltily.

"It's not mum's fault you got into a fight with Neville and didn't want to go to Alice's," Harry said as he began to peer into the drawers of a promising looking dresser. "You came in here on purpose to get her to come home."

"Whatever," Archie said grouchily. "Neville's a twat."

"Don't say I taught you 'twat'," Harry said as he picked up a Fear Funnel. Those were really banned for muggle baiting.

"I won't," Archie said stoutly. Harry almost believed him. Archie was starting to get over his snitching age. He only tattled on Harry about fifty times this summer, which was thousands times less than before he'd got his Hogwarts letter.

"Alice is mum's friend, it's not fair to make her come home just because she'd got a friend and you don't."

"I've got other friends - more than you," Archie said, swinging up to sit on dad's desk.

"I wouldn't want any friends like yours," he shot back. He'd come across a drawer of what looked like Dungbombs, but he was fairly certain weren't.

"Whatever," Archie said again. "Are you going to write me at all? When you leave?"

Harry eyed him. "If you like."

"Tell me what the Sorting is?"

Harry laughed. "If I've got to wait, so do you."

"But the Shacklebolts told Angie, and she won't tell me!"

"Well, bully for them."

"You really are such a snoop," Archie told him. Harry rifled through a collection of old arrests accompanied by photos of Sirius and his dad, in increasingly ridiculous poses with their captures.

Harry didn't pay Archie any attention and began to put everything he'd touched back. "Heard that? Mum's home. Let's go. And say sorry for ruining her afternoon, would you?"

"Whatever," Archie said mulishly.

Harry had pocketed the Fear Funnel.


The Hogwarts Express left at eleven o'clock, and that meant a large breakfast and party before taking the Portkey. Not everyone could get a Portkey to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, but with Archibald Potter coming along, the Potters did.

"Smile, smile," Sirius insisted, camera held out. "It won't kill you, Harry, I promise."

This, unfortunately, did manage to get Harry to smile a bit more naturally and less like he was being held at wand-point (he was, practically!). Sirius crowed with success as he captured that; James and Lily at Harry's shoulders, the new owl, and Archibald who had been beaming the whole time anyway. From the excitement alone, you would think it was Archie going to Hogwarts this year and not Harry.

"It's okay to be nervous," his mum told him as Sirius showed Peter the photo results.

"I'm not," Harry said.

"But it is okay," she pressed. "It's a big school - lots of new people - "

"Not all of them!" Archie said. "Tell Fred and George hullo for me."

"The Weasleys?" Harry asked, as if there was any other pair of Freds and Georges that stuck out.

"Obviously," Archie rolled his eyes. "Show me!" He went to Sirius, and his mum pulled him in for what seemed like the millionth hug this morning. She squeezed so tight he started to taste the breakfast sausages again in his throat.

"Mum," he said. "I'm alright. I'm excited, really."

"Me too," she said, though her voice was a little thick.

"We should probably get going," Remus said. Harry possibly liked Remus the best of all his parents' friends, because he was just a tad too awkward and yet everyone loved him anyway. Harry wasn't the best with people either, but unlike Remus, people didn't tend to find it charming. Harry had an ease for unnerving people, instead. Still. Awkwardness united them. Remus also didn't charm Harry's eggs to bite him back, unlike some other people visiting today.

"Merlin's ba - " Sirius glanced at the kids with a sly smile as he stopped himself. Archie laughed. "Nearly eleven, isn't it? Remus is right." Lily raised an unimpressed brow at him as James went for the Portkey.

"Here it is," he brandished a large, rusty tire spoke. "Thank you, Pete - Sirius - Remus, for joining us."

"Auspicious occasion," Remus said warmly.

"Wouldn't miss it," Peter said, looking rather wistful. "I can remember our first train ride like it was yesterday."

"Let's hope that Harry's isn't nearly as memorable," his mum said crossly, though a soft smile was taking over her features. "Alright, alright, Sirius don't trash the place while we're gone. Boys, hold on."

As the Portkey began to work its magic, the last thing they heard of Potter cottage was Sirius. "That was one time, Lily, and you've never let it - "

Harry nearly landed on his arse, if it wasn't for Archie catching him. Cheeks burning, he brushed his brother's hands away. He hated Portkeys. He'd much rather have Apparated, but it wasn't allowed at all on the platform. The portkey had already been such a grand allowance, because, after all, Archie Potter needed to be safe. Archie Potter was very famous, after all, as the dawning realisation on the other families' faces told. A few brave people began to make their way over, even as the train hooted impatiently - gleaming a furious red that Harry rather liked, and their dad stonily moved forward as if to barricade his sons from the masses.

"Write us as soon as you're all settled," he told Harry. "Don't be afraid to make friends, and especially watch out for old McGonagall. She's a brilliant teacher, but very strict indeed. Won't do to be on her bad side, you hear?" He hesitated and looked to Lily, and they shared something inscrutable.

"We love you very much," his mum said, nudging Archie.

"Yeah, loads," he stuck his tongue out at Harry who rolled his eyes.

"Love you, too," he said to mum.

"Maybe try and socialise on the ride," she offered as advice, as his dad put his trunk onto the train. "It's a long one after all, and it could be nice to have friends in different houses, before you've sorted."

His father came back for the end of that. "And Harry, well..." They shared another look. "Try not to antagonise Professor Snape. He's your potions master."

"I know," Harry said. "Percy mentioned he's terribly strict." There was something they weren't mentioning and he waited.

"He's a bit..."

His mum interrupted dad. "He's an old schoolmate of ours. He is terribly good at holding a grudge, and well... do your best, love, but don't take it personally if he's..."

"Unfair?" Dad offered.

His mum tried, but seemed to be unable to find a better word than that.

"But it's been ages since you've been in school," Harry said.

"We're quite sure the... animosity... lingers." His mum held his father's arm. "After all, he is also in the Order."

"What?" Harry said. "He's an Order member? Who isn't in the Order at this point?"

"Death Eaters," his dad said, and snorted. "Usually."

Harry laughed along at that. It was funny, Death Eaters in the Order of the Phoenix. The train whistles three times and he knows it must be time to go. "Hug your brother." And under motherly command he does.

"Try to make some chat," his mum said again as he stepped into the train hall. "Maybe find Percy?"

"Will do, mum," though he was not going to look for Percy Weasley. Sure, the older boy was studious, but they had nothing else in common but a dislike for playing games with the other boys.

"And try not to blow anything up," his dad said cheekily, but there was an undertone to it that reminded Harry of his latest outburst.

"I'll try," Harry said, a tad glummer.

He had the luck of an empty compartment just two doors up, and slid over to the window. He could still seem his family there, his father sending evil looks to anyone daring enough to try to approach them. He wondered if he would end up missing life at Potter cottage, even if he would be back in a few months for the hols. The train jolts and Harry makes a tentative wave that his dad and mum answer enthusiastically. Archie it seems, has already lost interest in Harry now that he was onboard. He was instead craning his neck around dad to see the rest of the platform.

Maybe he will miss them, a little. But he was pretty grown up, so not too much.