Chapter 1

Optimism can be gifted

Philosopher's Stone

She spotted him first in an alley.

Everywhere else the boy required a massive crowd of onlookers to gawk and gasp his name on repeat. She often wondered how he could have the patience to swallow it.

"Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter..."

"Harry Potter?!"

And most of them pronounced it so oddly. Always an emphasis on the "P", as if the word itself were a ceramic sphere that needed to be popped under high pressure. The young witch found it strange. Even at age eleven she knew something was weird about it. The girl always had strong opinions on most things that children shouldn't stick their noses into. Suppose it's what happens when you fight with your parents a lot.

No words were exchanged between the two when they shared a quick look in Diagon Alley. For one because the witch was semi-rudely staring at Harry and his greasy forehead, the scar almost hidden under his bangs that gave off the impression like he cut his own hair. She remembered him tossing a frown. Not one born from anger or meant to insult. The boy seemed rather confused that some random witch couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"This girl was staring at me earlier."

Ron's jaw briefly halted its circulation as he dropped the news. Harry wasn't sure if sharing something like this with a boy he had just met was a good idea or not. But the risk seems to have paid off, as the Weasley boy crudely swallowed his strange candy before responding.

"Do you know her?", Ron finally said. Dressed in his oversized, ugly flannel shirt, Harry shrugged.

"I don't think so."

The Boy who lived allowed the memory to drip back into his consciousness.

"I think she was our age. Short hair… glasses…"

Harry's thoughts drizzled into nothing as he ran out of descriptive terms to paint a clear picture. He did only see her once, briefly, after all. She might've been no one.

"Sounds like someone who recognized you. You really have no idea just how famous you are, Harry."

His assessment shared, Ronald returned to stuffing his face with caries fertilizer. Harry reacted with a hint of shame, not having yet adjusted to his newfound celebrity status.

"By the way...", Ron continued with a full mouth, "...do you want to see me turn Scabbers yellow?"

A quick, harmless smirk appeared on Harry's face once he remembered that Scabbers was Ron's creepy rat.

"Sure."

The Weasley boy unveiled his second-hand wand with a sense of pride, clearing his throat as the first word of the spell jumped to his lips.

"Have you seen a toad here?"

The shrill voice appearing at the door cut off Ron's (literal) magic trick as the boys turned to a girl their age with frizzled hair. Rather than giving her an answer, they instead communicated non-verbally, upsetting their guest quickly.

"I asked you a question. Have you seen a-"

"No, we haven't.", Ron let out in a bark-like tone.

"We have a question for you though."

Intrigued by the boy's very direct manner of conducting himself, the girl took a seat. Harry reacted rather overwhelmed, not having indicated to his new friend that he would like this.

"I'm Hermione Granger, in case you're wondering."

An initial veil of confidence slowly drifted off the girl as she took a seat across from Harry. This is whom caught her interest above the Weasley boy.

"So...", Ron began, "...did you-"

"How could I have been so stupid? You're Harry Potter.", Hermione announced with excitement. This was about the precise moment Harry started getting sick of hearing his full name uttered by strangers.

"Right.", Ron added in an attempt to regain her attention, "So, our question-"

"Your glasses are broken. Here, let me help you."

Unable to protest, her pointy wand was already shoved in his face.

"Oculus reparo.", Hermione spoke clearly. With a spark of light hissing onto his frames, the slightly cracked glass was (what else?) magically repaired. Ron's commentary on this situation condensed to a mere pout, carrying some level of jealousy.

"Anyways..." Hermione preached as her wand slipped back into her coat, "...what was his important question?"

Ron swallowed his pride with more force than his earlier sweets.

"The name is Ron Weasley. And we wanted to know if you saw Harry earlier. In Diagon Alley."

"Um... Ron, I...", Harry finally made himself known.

"Saw him?", Hermione interjected, "No. This is the first time I'm seeing either of you. Although I did hear whispers of Harry Potter being there."

As his friend looked to his reassurance, Harry shrugged once again.

"I could've told you it's not her. Like I said, she had short hair. And glasses.", the boy clarified.

"Right. Well... I'm not the girl you're looking for and you don't have the toad I'm looking for."

Getting up from her seat, Ron had the brains to rise to the occasion.

"We have some sweets, though."

The boy hastily scavenged through empty packaging to find something unopened.

"We have cauldron cakes, whizzbees, flavoured beans..."

"No thank you.", Hermione stated politely. "I appreciate it, nonetheless."

She gave him a reassuring look, pointing harshly towards the side of her nose.

"You have a bit of dirt there. In case you didn't notice "

Strange final thing to point out before departing. Ron looked with something akin to shock in Harry's direction as the boy barely contained his smile.

"I think she likes us.", was his positive assertion.

"Good for her, I suppose. I for one wouldn't mind bloody well never seeing her again.", Ron declared bluntly.

He grunted as his arms started cleaning up all of their candy wrappings, Harry helping him right away. He grew up cleaning after a group of despicable people that treated him like a dog, yet he always found a strange sense of satisfaction in doing the act regardless. Cleaning up meant doing it for himself as well, which Harry enjoyed. And now he got to share it with Ron, whom he had already grown to like, though he rather not say that part out loud yet, unless he'd like to scare off his one friend.

"Next year we'll switch, Harry. I get a girl quietly staring and you get to chat with Hermione..."

Something about that slightly nasty comment filled Harry with a profound sense of joy.

On his way to the Owlery Harry allowed the past few days to pass in review. It was surprisingly not a hard pill to swallow the wizarding world. He always knew something was up with him, talking to snakes and such. But alas, it was not magic that gave him the chills, but Hogwarts.

It's one thing to discover the truth, but to have it manifest into a place, an institution that he required attending. Quite literal, physical stone that firmly rooted this whole charade into a new normal. And so now the boy spent his Sunday morning stumbling his way to the Owlery. Hermione thankfully walked with him there last week, preventing him from getting lost in these massive castle grounds. He couldn't make sense of the witch yet. She seemed to be on a strangely inconsistent back-and-forth between trying to be his and Ron's friend while also correcting them at every opportunity. Perhaps it was her way of trying to help.

As soon as he arrived at the bottom of the staircase, a curious sound caught his attention. Like the flapping of wings, or... perhaps a humming. At the same time... wind chimes. Small little crystals getting dropped slowly onto a hollow surface. Indeed, a fascinating noise.

Expecting to catch a larger, flying creature, what he encountered was instead... tiny. Wings that shone ever so slightly in red, yellow, green, orange, and of course, white. The boy held out his hand with curious eyes, the excitement sparkling just as much as the creature. It finally landed, placing itself gently upon Harry's hand, as if it were a butterfly. Or made of paper.

Then, with the hissing returning, the ball of light soared back up into the air again, crashing into a girl as it seemed to slip into a locket hanging around her neck. She locked it shut with a clicking noise as her eyes refused to be taken off of him.

That's when Harry finally realized.

"Strange. Normally Leaghon acts shy around strangers.", the girl explained in a soft but slightly deep voice. Harry stumbled over his words at her sight, forgetting right away to announce his discovery as to who is standing there.

The girl was slightly shorter than him, wearing ridiculously thick boots to adjust her height, meaning she's even shorter in reality. Her black leggings reached down over her knees, where they would abruptly stop right after. Under a brown leather jacket hid a shirt displaying the name of a Muggle band Harry had seen before, though he could not recall a single track in that moment. Finally, her eyes possessed a vivid colour, a bright chestnut brown right in the centre of two orbs that wandered up and down the Boy who lived. Her short hair seemed more unkempt and messy than when he gazed upon her in Diagon Alley, which in all fairness could also be said about Harry's appearance. It is a Sunday, after all.

After what felt like a good ten seconds, the girl's eyes blinked rapidly behind her set of glasses, edges barely visible and held by a brightly golden-coloured frame.

"Leaghon is my pet, if you're asking yourself that right now. She lives in here."

With slight hesitation, the young witch took one step closer to present her butterfly-shaped silver ornament. Genuinely fascinated, Harry decided to put his prior question on hold and instead make conversation.

"What is it?", he uttered with big eyes. The girl let out a humoured scoff, an aura of relief surrounding her person.

"It's a pixie.", she began to explain, "They're quite rare creatures, and endangered."

Her hand wandered back over her piece of jewellery. A quick chirp sound later and Leaghon made her presence known, as if wanting to prove her owner right.

"Do all pixies live in lockets?", Harry inquired.

"Most. Those out in the wild don't need to. But with the Muggle world having grown so rapidly, most were forced to adapt to the changes. If you ever hear a ghost story or such, nine times out of ten it was a pixie not wanting to be disturbed in their home object."

Once her speech was completed, Leaghon very suddenly reemerged from the locket, swirling towards Harry and around his head for a few seconds before floating back to her owner. Throughout all this, Harry kept up the same, dumb smirk that always grew on his face whenever he experienced some kind of new magic. He hoped that the feeling of raw excitement at such things would never seize.

The boy's enthusiasm appeared to be infectious, as the girl now smiled as well. With the pixie returning to her necklace in order to rest, Harry finally circled back around to his original discovery.

"Are you the girl that saw me in Diagon Alley?", the boy uttered with a sense of catharsis. Wanting to follow it up with another question, Harry abandoned the idea as he saw her reaction being one of indignance.

"Oh.", came out first, "So you saw me."

Slight panic followed.

"I'm... so sorry for staring at you. That was very rude of me."

As she adjusted her glasses, Harry tried to ease her unnerve.

"It's okay. I wasn't offended or anything. Just... curious who you were. Most other people who recognize me do so in groups. And they keep saying my full name all the time..."

As his explanation came to an end, so did Harry's voice go down with frustration.

"Must be exhausting.", the girl responded. "The whole world knowing who you are. Knowing your name right from the start. I would hate that."

He nodded, finding a sense of comfort in her empathy.

"You're the first person to say that. Everyone else thinks I should enjoy it. But... I don't know. I just want to be normal, I guess.", he responded with a heavy heart.

"If it's any help...", she began with her legs crossed, "...I think you're pretty normal, Harry."

It was as if a curse were lifted, as if hearing his name uttered by a stranger no longer evoked a sense of shame and stage fright. Instead, he felt a warm sensation of joy bubbling up inside him. Most likely because she didn't use "Potter", but he wasn't quite sure in that moment.

"Thanks.", he blurted out. Right after, his brow furrowed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry but... I don't know your name."

"Well, I'm not the one who's famous, am I?"

For some bizarre reason her initial timid posture loosened as her snappy remark made him smirk.

"Marlene Verpe, but most people call me Marley. I was the second to last one at the Sorting Hat ceremony. Since... you know... 'Verpe' starts with a 'V'."

The sound of her name got burned into his memory right away, just like it did with Ron back on the Hogwarts Express.

"Nice to meet you, Marley."

An honest smile later and Harry realized something was off.

"Did I say something wrong?", Harry asked her.

"No.", Marley said with a significant delay. "It's just that... during the ceremony, you argued with the Sorting Hat. About not wanting to be in Slytherin."

Harry only now recalled that his little verbal stunt probably got him even more attention than he already had, much to his dislike.

"And, well...", she continued, "...I'm in Slytherin."

This is when it dawned on him why she was acting so insecure all of a sudden. Marley twiddled her thumbs at that, already thinking of leaving.

"Oh.", was the only thing that he managed to choke out.

"Yeah...", Marley said, almost like a sigh. "I get if you don't want to talk to me anymore. I will just... go ahead and leave..."

Seeing her turn around, a strangely powerful force got a hold of him.

"No, don't go. I didn't mean it, Marley!"

This was the most extroverted Harry had ever spoken to someone, possibly ever. Yet, it is what got her to change her mind.

"I know I didn't want to be Slytherin. But... I also don't know all this stuff. All I knew was that Voldemort and his followers were Slytherin, and that my friend Ron was Gryffindor..."

His reasoning slowly fizzled out, as if a balloon with a small hole.

"I didn't mean to say Slytherin was bad. Or that... everyone there is."

To his astonishment, Marley sat down on the beaten path with her legs crossed, letting out a heavy breath that she had apparently been holding for some time.

"Honestly, I'm not sure...", she quietly announced. Harry, having the emotional insight of a much older person, decided to sit down next to her, despite the autumn dew that started to collect on their clothing.

"What do you mean?", he asked her softly. How he knew to talk kindly to someone when growing up alongside the Dursleys, he couldn't tell.

"The thing is, Harry, I... didn't want to be in Slytherin either.", she paused briefly. "Mum was Ravenclaw and Finley was Gryffindor. That's my older brother."

Harry nodded once again, letting her know that it's okay for her to share this.

"I keep thinking about you arguing with the hat. Maybe I should've done the same..."

"You don't like it in Slytherin at all?", Harry returned.

"Not really. Everyone there is just so... weird. All they talk about is their families and... how important everyone there is and... how important it makes them. It's dreadful. Especially that Draco boy..."

"Oh, I don't like him at all.", he added with a smirk. Marley smiled back briefly before continuing her thought. "That makes two of us. I just wish there was one nice person in Slytherin. Someone like you."

Harry took well to the compliment, as well as her expression.

"I'm sorry to hear all that. Can you not switch houses afterwards?"

"No, I really don't think so.", Marley answered. "I also don't want to ask. If anyone finds out I'm trying to switch, the other Slytherins will be even meaner to me."

A moment of silence followed as Harry scanned his mind for possible solutions. Something akin to one eventually revealed itself.

"Well, you're not in the common room all the time, right?", he started, "You can hang out in study rooms and such. Plus, there's classes with others. You don't need to see just Malfoy there."

The girl scoffed quietly.

"Well, Malfoy anywhere is a chore. But I think you're right.", she paused, thanking him with another smile. "I see you all the time there. That's something."

"Really?", Harry retorted with curiosity, "How many classes do we have together?"

"Almost all of them, Harry.", she let out in clear amusement, "Have you seriously never spotted me before?"

Despite the question being of a judgemental nature, Marley's tone and expression indicated very apparent joy.

"No? Sorry...", he blurted out, hand scratching the back of his head. Lucky for him, the young witch giggled as she got up.

"You ought to pay more attention to your surroundings.", she criticized him. With that, the girl did finally seem to leave, forcing the boy back on his feet as well.

"Didn't you want to go to the Owlery?", he asked, sounding almost desperate.

"No, I just took a stroll with Leaghon. I don't have an owl. And I really don't feel like writing letters back home..."

For some reason he had a hunch that something about home made her uneasy.

"But thank you. See you around, Harry!"

"Bye, Marley!"

As she left back for the castle, the sound of her name spoken in his voice stuck with her.