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Chapter Text

Current year, Spring Break

It became an everyday thing for you.

These days, you couldn't help but be bored out of your mind. It all started when you completely forgot about Spring Break. One monday, you showed up at your workplace only to find absolutely nothing. The lights were out and there were no signs of anyone inside.

Empty.

Standing awkwardly in front of the main entrance, you took out your phone and looked at the date, realising that Spring Break started. All you could do was spin your heel and walk away embarrassed, wondering how this whole scene would look like on security footage.

However, this was different. Usually, one plans what they could do for such breaks. You, on the other hand, had nothing. Your caretakers were both on different vacations, so you would not be able to see them. Feeling nostalgic, it became a routine for you to watch one Harry Potter movie a day. Seven movies for seven days, how perfect is that?

It was already Sunday and you were done with the last movie. You were disappointed for not doing anything big this break since most of your friends seemed to have either gone on vacation or done fun activities. As you watched the credits of the last movie roll down the screen, sprawled on a couch, you felt drowsy. Too dejected to do anything else, you closed your eyes and began slipping into unconsciousness, unknowingly falling in a rabbit hole.

******************

You expected to feel dirty or oily upon waking up as you slept on a couch, but none of that checked out. In fact, you woke up tucked in a white, silky bed. Your heart leapt at the realisation and you jumped up, unfamiliar. Taking in your surroundings, you notice that you are in a small room filled with decorations such as clocks, candles, plushies, and bookshelves. There were drawings stuck on a large brown board in which the bright colours went over the lines, scribbled in a messy way. The walls were painted forest green and the ceiling was of an off-white shade and decorated with old-fashioned millwork.

You stared for a long time. The bed you woke up in was facing a window covered with a grey curtain. Getting on your feet, you walked slowly towards the window so as to not make any sound and let your hands pull the curtain aside, revealing a familiar suburban area.

By now, you were shaking and your pounding heart made it hard to breathe properly. You took steps back and leaned against your bed frame, trying to regain composure. You looked around once more.

Clocks... You saw clocks.

You remember reading somewhere that clocks do not appear in dreams, which made you think of one possibility: you were kidnapped. However, this theory soon began making no sense as you looked down. You were met with an unfamiliar body. A kid's body. It was truly horrifying. Where were you? What were you?

You looked back at the window and that's when you realised that you are in the Harry Potter universe, and this was Privet Drive...

Worried but excited,

Scared but joyful,

Uneasy but curious.

Your mind swirled with questions as your heart flooded with emotions. You decided it would be best to get out of this room. You knew you would have to go downstairs one day or another, so you wasted no time. Heart pounding, you got out of that place and spotted stairs stuck to the wall, leading straight downstairs, in front of a living room. You got down the stairs carefully and you heard your ears meet the sound of silverware clanking together. The sound was so faint, yet the tips of your ears tingle. You looked to your left to find a middle-aged couple sitting together, having tea. The woman had long, straight black hair, a rather roman nose and a skinny, tan figure whilst the man had curly brown hair that started greying and a tall, bulkier appearance.

The woman caught your eye and you froze.

"Oh Good morning!" she said cheerfully, with a small british accent. She noticed your startled appearance and came over to you, "Honey are you okay? Had a bad sleep?" She asked in a very gentle tone. You forgot you were technically a child. You could only assume on the spot that, although the couple didn't quite look like you, they were your parents in this strange place. The man spoke with an accent similar to yours.

"Yeah... sorry about last night, I might have made too much noise with the dishes," he said bashfully.

"No, I'm just fine," you said. They seemed to find your accent fine, which relieved you.

"Uh-" you looked up at your 'mother', "Darling..." she looked at your 'father' and back at you, then leaned in, "If you're having any troubles, tell me. You don't look alright," she said timidly. You looked at the innocent spark in her eyes, and after what felt like an eternity, you smiled.

"Sorry, I just didn't sleep well," you said, as convincing as you tried to be. They both looked at you, slightly perplexed. "I'll– I'll go get dressed," you told them, not quite sure what to do. Your palms were clammy and your legs felt heavy.

"Alright darling," the woman smiled. "but if you need to stay in bed, we understand. As long as you come eat." You nodded, your heart feeling a touch of warmth from her kind words. You turned around, pretending to still be drowsy, and climbed up the stairs. It felt weird being a child again, but it was a nostalgia you enjoyed through the circumstances. Even the feeling of running up the stairs was something you missed, free from responsibilities.

For the time being, it was not that bad. You went to the bathroom and looked at the three toothbrushes in a cup. You easily spotted yours as it had Hello Kitty designs on it.

Your home in this universe was almost funny.

You got dressed in the simplest clothes you could find: overalls with a red shirt, and came downstairs to eat. Your "parents" were surprisingly easy to talk to, sharing common interests and knowledge. They talked a lot, actually.

After eating and talking with them, you ran outside to look at your address.

6 Privet Drive. This meant you should logically live near-

BANG!

Your heart practically flew out of your chest as you jumped and looked around. You saw a man with a stocky build shut all the doors of the car parked in the neighbour's driveway. "COME HERE, BOY!" You heard a scruff voice yell. He pulled out of the car a boy your age with black hair and famous round glasses by the ear. You gasped and the boy looked over at you, eyes wide open and eyebrows raised to his hairline. He was gone as fast as he arrived as he was pushed inside the house and the man slammed the door shut.

So this is the beginning...

Chapter Text

13/07/1991

You stayed with your new mother and father, who you found to be named Claire Thompson and Gavin Thompson respectively, for an uncertain amount of time. You found out many things about yourself. Firstly, you were homeschooled. This did not come out to you as a problem since you already knew everything that could be taught to an eleven year old. Secondly, you loved cooking for them. The Thompsons asked you multiple times if you wanted to make tea for them and reminded you of your "love" for it. This was a little trickier as you then had to take time to learn how to work in the kitchen without the help of cookbooks. This included many trips to the library nearby to find information about culinary skills. The place was small; it only had one floor and the furniture was kept clean enough to live. It was enough, though.

While you took trips to the library, you also tried your best to get in contact with the boy next door. One morning, as you were making your way downstairs, you came face-to-face with Petunia and Vernon Dursley at your doorstep. Surprisingly, they looked uncharacteristically nice that day, inviting your family to their house for next Saturday. Remaining wary, you ended up shaking their hand with a smile.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Dursley! How are you?" you asked politely. You wanted to land on their good side so as to not create trouble.

Petunia answered, clasping her hands together and leaning down, "Oh, we're doing wonderful!" She looked back at your parents, "Such a sweetheart, you have!" She and Vernon looked at each other with an approving smile on their faces. "Well, our offer still stands. You moved here not long ago and what better way to get to know each other than over tea!" she exclaimed. While she talked, Vernon's lips formed a small curve of delight. You, on the other hand, did not even know that your family had moved here only recently.

"I think that would be best," your mother replied, "What do you think?" she asked, looking at you. Soon, everyone's eyes were on you.

Vernon spoke up, "I don't think I mentioned, but I have a son just about your age," he smiled, pointing his finger at you in a playful way. The mere thought of his son seemed to cheer him up. He took a small pause and straightened up, thinking. "I also have my nephew around, but you shouldn't pay much attention to him. He's..." he paused, trying to find the right words to describe him. He took a small breath, eyes darting to his side, "...special needs," he finished, now waiting for your answer.

"What an offensive thing to say," you thought. You contained yourself. "I think that would be great," you ended up saying. Hurriedly, you finished with a "thank you very much."

******************

Saturday came quickly. Before you knew it, you were dressed up for the occasion and ringing the Dursleys' doorbell, both your parents behind you. Your appearance was nothing short from perfect, and you were ready for whatever was about to come.

Your mother brought a gift for Petunia, whilst your father brought one for Vernon and wine. You, on the other hand, were fighting for your life with the two gifts you were entrusted to carry: one for Dudley and one for Harry. Your body, now that it was young, was weaker and the smallest task took much more effort.

You heard shuffling behind the door and, from the windows, you could see the Dursleys running everywhere for last-minute cleaning or arranging. Seeing them scurry everywhere was a golden sight, and you laughed to yourself a little. Finally, the door opened to reveal Vernon, who greeted you and your parents.

You all stepped inside and noticed how everyone kept their shoes on. This made you want to frown. However, you kept a polite face on and greeted Petunia and Vernon.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dursleys! Thank you for having us!" you said, now genuinely happy to have the chance to be there. This all seemed like a dream, but you knew it was not. It was just hard to process in your head that you were seeing the people you watched on TV for hours, and that you were now part of their lives in a way.

Petunia gushed over the gifts your parents brought. "Oh, Vernon, they even brought wine!" she yelled from across the entrance.

Vernon was the first to answer you, "Don't fret, you can call us by our first names," he said in a gentle tone that almost surprised you. He said your name, which caught your attention once again, "This is my son!" he showed Dudley proudly, hands on his boy's shoulders. You did not even notice him entering the room. The smiling kid was wearing a simple but elegant shirt tucked in pants with suspenders that were incredibly high-waisted.

"Hello! I'm Dudley!" he screeched. You jumped back, unable to keep your calm. You forgot that Dudley was rarely found speaking softly and this startled you. He took your right hand and shook it vigorously for what you thought was way too long.

"Hello..." you said, only staring at how fast he was shaking your hand. You told him your name, trying to smile politely.

"I really like your accent!" He said, looking at you and your parents, "Where are you from?" Your dad told him your place of origin, which was surprisingly the same as your real origin.

As you were about to try to get away from him, you almost forgot to give him his gift. "Oh! By the way, I have something for you-" you struggled giving him his gift bag. He was about to take both, assuming they were for him only, but you kept the second bag out of his reach. "There you go!" You said as you handed one to him.

His eyes lit up and his chubby hands took hold of the bag, hurrying to the living room to open it. "COME!" He yelled, waiting for you to follow him.

You both sat on a surprisingly soft carpet and, without missing a beat, he began absolutely demolishing the bag and the gift wraps beyond recognition. Any harsher, and you thought he would have thrown it. Your eyes became wide, watching him like a feral animal in a zoo exhibition.

The item was revealed to be chocolates taking the form of many different animals. He held the package and his eyes glimmered. You could swear you saw drool appear on the side of his mouth. You were extremely uneasy, but saw the two couples enter the room as well, enjoying the sight of the two children bonding before them.

Dudley was about to open the box when Vernon coughed loudly. The boy looked at his father, who nudged his head over the guests. Dudley got the message.

"Thank you!" He finally said.

"Well I'm glad you like it," said your dad, holding your mother's hand.

Petunia continued along with her son, "You really didn't have to do all of this, thank you!" She said, a huge smile across her face.

You decided to speak up, "I also have a gift for your nephew!"

Silence.

Your parents looked at the other family, expecting to see him.

On the other hand, Vernon's face reddened slightly. He escorted everyone in the kitchen and closed the door behind them, then taking the time to go fetch the boy.

Under the staircase, the young Harry Potter had heard the commotion and, the walls being thin, he could not help but freeze up along with the rest of his family. He felt a door close and Vernon's imposing footsteps nearing the entry to his cabin.

WHOOSH!

Harry's door flung open. The poor boy jumped as he was met face to face with his uncle. Vernon's face was red all over as he made sure to speak quietly.

"Now you go out there and if you do ANYTHING that embarrasses us..." the man took big, shaky breaths, "...you'll regret it. Now do you understand, boy?"

Harry shook slightly, "Yes, yes Uncle Vernon."

Vernon grabbed the black-haired boy and, before opening the door to the kitchen, he flattened Harry's hair as much as possible.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the door open, revealing Vernon followed by Harry Potter. You composed yourself before departing from the dining table gently and picked up the nephew's gift. You waved at him with a smile. "Hi!"

Harry caught your eye and his breath shortened. He has hardly ever been with someone his age apart from Dudley, so he tried his best to look presentable. In his mind, if he made a good first impression, maybe, then maybe you would not think of him as a freak.

"...Hi," he finally said timidly. You both shook hands and you noticed how warm, almost sweaty, his hand was whilst Harry felt how cold yours was. He finally smiled and decided to make a small talk, "How are you? You moved next door not long ago, did you?"

"Yes, I did!" You replied, happy that he started the conversation. The rest of the family was watching you and you felt uncomfortable. You came up with an idea, "I actually have a gift for you!" You then looked at the adults, "Should we go to the living room to open it as well?"

Before Vernon could say anything, Petunia spoke up, "Go ahead!" You didn't know if she agreed out of kindness or if she was just happy to not have Harry in the same room as her.

You and Harry exchanged glances, both happy with the news, and waltzed towards the living room. You kept the door open to not make it too awkward. Walking in the room, you sat down on the same carpet but Harry had the instinct to stand still. Looking at you, he muttered a small "sorry" and sat down with you. You giggled at his antics. He was weird, but kind and polite nonetheless.

"Here you go..." you said, handing him the bag. You saw him approach it a lot more carefully than Dudley, not being used to gifts. He even muttered a small "Oh wow". You decided to ease the tension, "It's not gonna bite you," you laughed.

A smile made its way on Harry's face and he giggled a bit before revealing the contents of the bag. He grabbed the gift and pulled it out: It was a scarf.

Although it seemed small, he looked like he was about to jump out of his seat out of pure joy. You knew he didn't get gifts, and it made you happy to see him gasp. "I made it," you spoke up.

His eyes widened, "You made that all by yourself?" His mouth parted slightly out of surprise as you nodded your head, clearly proud. He started laughing and shyly muttering "thank you" as he tried putting it on. You helped him wrap it around properly around his neck and adjusted it.

"There you go! I know you don't need it right now since it's summer... but we all need a scarf eventually!" You said, gaining confidence and the awkward atmosphere dissipating.

"It's beautiful..." he said, "Thank you!" The scarf was of a simple chrome green, but he was still overjoyed. He wanted to get to know you better now that he actually might have made a friend.

He started asking questions such as "Where are you from?", "Why did you move here?" and "Do you have hobbies?". Some of them were hard to answer, but you two felt a bond forming. By the time the tension dispersed, the living room door flung open to reveal Petunia.

She said your name with a smile and then glanced at Harry with a slight scowl, "Tea's ready..." she said. She was not fond of the idea of you bonding more with Harry than Dudley, but she was fine to know that Harry made a good impression on you, not tainting your image of her family.

You, your parents, Vernon, Petunia, Dudley and Harry began eating. It was mostly the adults accompanied with Dudley speaking while you and Harry kept more silent. You would sometimes jump in to say a word or two, then resume eating.

Something in the back of your head told you that it was not the parents who cooked this, but that it was Harry's work. You kept your mouth shut.

It was hard to admit that tea with the Dursleys was not as horrible as you thought. When the moon began fully shining and the streets darkened, it was time for you to leave. You waved goodbye to the Dursleys and made your way back home with your family.

By the time the sun rose, Harry's scarf was hidden under his pillow, kept safely from his family. It was a reminder that he now had what he considered to be a friend.

Chapter Text

22/07/1991

With the way your parents were treating you, you thought your summer would be all playing and resting.

You were working in the kitchen again. There was plenty of homework resting on your desk, but you could not even bring yourself to take a look at the pile. It seemed overwhelming to complete it all, especially during summer, so you made the perfect bad decision to simply not touch it. Even though you were homeschooled, work was just as serious. Surprisingly, you only found the motivation to do the one thing you now knew how to do very well: cooking.

You, surprisingly, grew affectionate of your parents and, being "young" and having no way to pay them back, you resorted to cooking as a way to show gratitude. Some days, you would even take the time to bake something for your uncanny neighbours, who accepted your pastries with great delight. Today, to let you have fun, the Thompson couple let you make dinner. It was not an extraordinary gift, but it was to you.

As you were finishing their favourite meal whilst your parents were sitting in the salon, a noise was heard from the entrance door.

Knock knock

A perplexed look made its way on all of your faces. It was already dark outside and nobody had planned any visit. 'I'll get it!' You yelled while marching towards the entry. You opened the door, not quite sure what to expect, revealing a woman standing on a black and yellow carpet with a cursive Welcome on it in front of you.

However, before you stood a woman you never expected to see until now, even though you hoped to.

"Greetings, " she croaked, followed formally by your last name. Her voice was raspy, but clear. A long green cloak draped over a figure, hiding a long black button-up dress underneath, and a tall, pointy hat made her look taller. Her long, slender fingers held an envelope. She stretched her hand elegantly, "Let me introduce myself; My name is Minerva Mcgonagall, otherwise known as Professor Mcgonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Pause.

As she talked, your heart began hammering against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of its confinement. There was a slight silence where you just stared, until you shook your head and took the letter out of her hands with a shaking exhale. A look of confusion flashed over her eyes for a second from your stiffness.

"May I speak with your guardians?" she asked, gently holding her hands together and leaning slightly towards you.

You nodded. "Yes, ma'am," you finally said. She smiled at you as you moved your body to the side and let her enter. Her shoes created an echo in the entrance.

"Mom! Dad! ...Someone wants to see you!" you yelled.

In a flash, your parents were now standing in front of Mcgonagall, silently scrutinising her attire. They greeted each other and your parents sat her down for some tea.

Your parents sat with her at the dining table while you were leaning over the kitchen counter, on edge. The witch spoke up, "I am pleased to inform you that your child-" she gestured to you with an open hand, "-was accepted in our school."

Your parents' faces twisted in confusion and slight judgement. "We have not made any request to any school for our child," your mother finally answered.

Mcgonagall took care to introduce them to the whole ordeal. She went on about what Hogwarts is and the "International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1689", which is apparently just a law that separated the Wizarding world from the Muggle world. In front of your unconvinced parents, she performed a simple spell by turning a candle in a teaspoon, startling you.

"Now your child here is what we refer to as a Muggle-born... which is the term for a wizard or witch born from no-maj, or non-magical, parents," the woman revealed, "which is why our school is accepting her with open arms."

Your parents looked at each other before your father butted in. "May we speak privately for a moment?"

"By all means, time is not fleeing."

Your father held your mother while walking towards the entrance, out of your vision. You could hear faint murmurs coming from them, but you directed your attention to the woman patiently sitting. Your hands trembled, still incapable of processing that the professor Mcgonagall, who you have been watching for so long, sat in front of you.

"So..." you began. She looked at you and you suddenly felt exposed. "...am I going to, you know, cast spells?" you continued, your hands going in circular motions.

Mcgonagall exhaled, "You'll be doing much more than that, dear. You have the potential to do a lot of things Muggle children could only dream of doing."

"Like what?" you could not help but feel giddy.

She thought for a second. She then answered in an almost playful way, "Have you ever wondered how it would feel to fly?" Her thin lips formed a barely perceptible smile as she saw your eyes lit up as you gasped silently.

Your parents came back, looking like they have made their decision. Your mother spoke up. "What do we need?"

You silently cheered. You could have begun running around, kissing your parents and thanking them, but it took every ounce of your self-control to appear calm.

Hogwarts.

The word seemed so big.

"Everything they need is written in that little envelope in their hands," she said as she began standing up, "I will come by tomorrow to guide them throughout Diagon Alley with your supervision, where they will be able to find everything they need for the year."

You took the letter and flipped it. Your parents approached you, leaning over your shoulder to see the letter that was addressed to you in emerald green ink. Mcgonagall got slightly closer as you began gently ripping the envelope and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF

WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear pupil,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

There was a second page attached to the letter filled with what you assumed to be the required school 'supplies'. You set the list on the counter and everyone except the witch began reading down the list.

"Now, I will take the liberty to come back tomorrow at around 6 o'clock. There will be a three-decker bus waiting in front of your abode. It will take us to a place called 'The Leaky Cauldron', where we will find access to Diagon Alley.

After a moment of silence, your father answered with a curt "Thank you, ma'am. We... It sure came off as a shock, but we appreciate the invitation. We think it would be a great opportunity for them... I'm sure our kid would be more than happy to make friends their age," he chuckled, ruffling your hair a bit while you wore a big, but gentle smile.

You all ended up feeling tired and Mcgonagall took her leave.

"You know..." your father began. You looked up at him, "All we want is your own good. We love you and... if this is what would make you happy, we are all in for it."

"It's true," your mother continued, "We love you so much and..." her eyebrows started curving and her eyes watered, "we will do anything in our power to make you happy, even if it means leaving us behind." she finished. Now, she was almost sobbing, but you and your father could notice how hard she tried keeping herself together.

You felt a small lump form in your throat.

The words came hard on you but you said them nonetheless, "I... love you too."

******************

The sleep you got that night could not have been worse.

You barely slept thinking about what happened and what will happen. Technically, Harry should receive his letter soon as well.

Although you did not sleep much, you woke up with more energy than you ever had due to a mix of nervousness and excitement. The day went by awfully slow, preparing yourself and the money to visit Diagon Alley. As promised, Mcgonagall was at your door at 6 o'clock sharp with a Knight bus standing tall behind her. Her attire was slightly similar, except for the cloak being a dark shade of blue. She looked at you.

"Slept well? You have a big evening today," she said.

Your eyes widened slightly, "Yeah...no," you decided to stay honest with the lady, "I'm very nervous."

She appreciated your honesty. As you all boarded the bus, she whispered, "I was nervous too when I was your age. Looking back on this moment, there was truly nothing to be nervous about." She said this right before everything turned into chaos.

You knew the Knight bus made people dizzy and was slightly, if not very dangerous, hazardous.

Everything around you swirled and you could hear frantic screams coming from your mother. You gripped Mcgonagall's hand without thinking as if your life depended on it because at that time, it seemed like it did. The witch, however, seemed to pay no mind to the fiasco. When the ride ended, you could hear your parents gasping behind you as you felt Mcgonagall tap your shoulder.

"...You get accustomed to it," she finally said, not a single strand of hair out of place. Passing by the crowded Leaky Cauldron and stepping in Diagon Alley, you and your family were left speechless, gaping at the view before you.

Diagon Alley was bustling with people. There were shops on top of shops and people could not walk without constantly bumping into each other. The air was almost suffocating as it reeked of smoke, scented candles, aged wood and wild animals. However, everyone seemed to be smiling, which eased you.

As you all made your way in the unfamiliar place alongside Mcgonagall, she rummaged in her pockets. Your curious gaze followed her movements to see her take out a neatly folded piece of paper. You recognized it as it was a copy of the list of school necessities.

She turned towards your family, "Before anything, I suggest we come by Gringotts to convert money. Witches and wizards use another currency, which consists of Galleons, Sickles and knuts. Galleons are worth around 4 pounds while..." She continued talking about the currency while we made our way to Gringotts. The visit was, to you, very nice. The conversion proved to be a slight challenge, but you all made your way through it. As you left the bank, you started looking at the list of requirements along with Mcgonagall and you read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF

WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-years students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags

SET BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dart Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

And you got everything you needed.

The part you were most enthusiastic for was the wand. You stumbled in Ollivander's wand shop, glad to see it empty.

You tried on many wands, but they all ended up making disasters. One of the wands you tried even began making cupboards emit a terrible smell, which made you and the shopkeeper nauseous. Finally, when you got your wand, you felt a rush flooding of energy through you. That feeling in your veins upon contact made you feel free, unbeatable, light, everything. You felt on top of everything, and you could not be happier about it.

You put your finger on the tip of your wand and felt a sharp pain spread; it had pierced your skin. Garrick Ollivander, the owner of the shop, spoke out, "Now this one is unusually sharp, so here–" he handed you a small protective case,"–is a place to keep your wand in. You wouldn't want to reach through your bag for it and get hurt now, would you?"

You even got the chance to choose an owl. Walking in the Magical Menagerie Pet Shop, you wandered around for a while until you found one particular owl that looked just like you. The colour of the animal's feathers down to its eyes reflected your appearance and, surprisingly, it let you pet it. Choosing this one, you've decided to find a name for it later.

The ride back home was made with half-lidded eyes. You were happy, but absolutely exhausted. As you reached your home, Mcgonagall connected your chimney to the Floo Network. She explained to you how to use it and gave you a small train ticket with the famous "Platform 9 ¾" on it. She left and everyone went to sleep, utterly exhausted out of their minds.

Chapter Text

29/08/1991

The rest of your summer was wasted away through the brain-rotting flipping of your spellbooks. Your parents thought it would be best to start studying right away so your time in Hogwarts can be easier for you. You have been informed that wizards and witches under the age of 17 are prohibited from using magic outside of school, leaving you disappointed. Doing magic sounded amazing; However, learning magic was a dull and repetitive process. So far, three subjects sparked your interest: Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Potions. Potions was a lot like cooking and your father was fond of gardening whilst your mother was a biologist. You knew you would not fall behind those classes.

You have also tried to get in contact with the boy next door once again. You made the decision to pay him a visit. You have seen him a couple of times as your parents kept seeing each other, but you have never properly met outside of these reunions. All dressed up and holding four yellow roses your father managed to grow, you rang the Dursleys' doorbell. You heard a loud "Get it, Harry!" from Vernon and the door opened slowly. Harry's head popped out, his hair dishevelled. You could make out him wearing oversized clothes, which were probably hand-me-downs from Dudley.

You gave him a small wave, "Hi!"

The boy's eyes widened.

CLANK!

You were once again met with the door in front of you. You could hear Harry's hurried footsteps running across the house. Have you done something wrong?

On the other hand, The Dursleys were eating in the kitchen. Harry ran to them, a slight panicked look on his face. Vernon looked at him, irritated. "What is it, boy?" he spat, "Who was it?" Harry stuttered out your name and hell broke loose in the kitchen. Vernon's face almost glowed the colour red.

"AND YOU LEFT THAT KID THERE!?" he screamed. "YOU INCAPABLE LITTLE- YOU KNOW WHAT?" He took deep breaths, now holding Harry's shoulders with a harsh grip, "You get changed and I answer the door!" Harry nodded vigorously and Vernon threw him to the side, rushing towards the entrance.

You were in their driveway, heading home disappointed, until you heard a door open behind you along with big huffs. You turned around to be greeted by the sight of Vernon trying to appear casual, leaning against the doorframe red in the face.

He laughed, "Ah, hello! Come in, come in!" he said, gesturing for you to step inside their home.

An uncertain smile crawled its way onto your face as you followed the man. Quickly enough, you saw Harry heading down the staircase along with Petunia and Dudley, all wearing proper casual clothes, including Harry. The boy looked at you properly, and he even dared to think that you looked great.

"Oh hello, dear, it is so kind of you to visit!" Petunia exclaimed as she gave you a small hug that you reciprocated. You smiled up at her. "It really is my pleasure! Here," you said, handing them each a rose, "My dad grew those in the garden."

You wanted to grimace as you gave one to Dudley as much as you wanted to beam as you did the same to Harry. You saw each of their faces light up except Dudley's, who did not quite understand the point of such a gift. The adults were the first ones to speak up.

"Thank you dear!" Petunia said as Vernon replied with a "Why thank you, young one," whilst nodding approvingly.

Harry then murmured a shy "thank you". You could see that they all started taking a liking to you, which filled you with pride. That way, it would be easier to gain their trust.

Harry looked at you, curious as to why you acknowledged him the way you did. He held the rose in his hands as if it could be stolen from him at any moment. You looked at him to find him staring at you, but he quickly looked down with the slightest smile on his face. You two got along well, but he was still a little shy.

"Actually," you began, "I was wondering if I could spend time with Harry, if that's okay..." Everyone's expressions went from sheer delight to utter shock.

"I... Yes, of course." Vernon said, irritated by the fact that you would prefer spending your time with his nephew instead of his darling son. However, seeing how polite you were to them, he could not refuse.

Harry, on the other hand, felt a pang of anxiety. What if he embarrassed himself? What if you actually did not like him and you wanted to make fun of him? Either way, he knew he could not refuse your request under his aunt's and uncle's demanding glares.

Nonetheless, he pushed those feelings aise and smiled. "That would be lovely," he finally had the courage to say. He smiled wider as he saw you beam at his reply.

Someone actually wanted to stay close to him, which warmed his heart. He gave the rose to Petunia along with Vernon and Dudley, and he bolted out of the house. You both waved the perplexed Dursleys odd as you caught up to Harry.

You both saw the entrance door close and sighed. You turned to him, "I heard that your birthday was soon," you said, sparking up the conversation, "You have anything in mind?"

"What d'you mean?" he replied.

"For gifts. Did you think about anything?"

Still walking together, he paused.

"No... not really. Can I tell you something?" he hushed as he stopped walking.

"What is it...?" you asked.

"My family... doesn't really give me gifts, but Dudley got 38 gifts for his birthday," he confessed. You feigned surprise as he continued, "Am I doing something wrong?"

"No–" you answered too quickly. "–I mean, I don't think you're doing anything wrong, you're amazing," you said bashfully. Harry smiled.

"Can I tell you something as well?" you asked, although you knew you would say what was on your mind anyways.

"Yes," he replied with a playful laugh.

"I... don't really like Dudley that much," you said in a joking whisper. "I mean I'm sure he can be okay, but he's loud and never really thanks me for my gifts... almost as if he wasn't grateful!"

"I feel the same," Harry said, filled with joy by the fact that someone has the same opinion as him for once. You both giggled until you stopped in front of your house.

"I have bikes we can use, and if you want we can go around! I hardly go outside because of my studies..." you said, murmuring the last part.

"What studies...? It's the end of summer," he replied.

Your eyes widened slightly. "Oh, I just- I'm homeschooled and I'm about to go to my first real school next year." Harry's face showed surprise. He thought you were one of those more popular people in school because of how social you were. "I received my books early and now my parents want me to study them so next year comes easier..."

"What school are you going to? Dudley is going to Smeltings Academy; It's a boarding school."

"I'm... going somewhere else," you said, clearly not wanting to say anything and the boy surprisingly understood. You changed the subject, "What was I saying... Oh, the bikes!" You gestured for him to follow you through your backyard, where your father's garden was.

Harry looked around, mesmerised, "That's your father's garden?" he asked.

You looked at him, "Oh– yes. Quite nice, isn't it?"

"It's wonderful..."

"There," you said, gesturing to the bikes. Harry snapped out of his trance and looked at them with slight fright. "...You okay, Harry?"

He looked at the ground, kicking a rock, until he confessed bashfully, "I never rode one of those..."

"Then I'll teach you."

The last hour was filled with you laughing and Harry absolutely scared shitless. At some point, he had even almost crashed into someone's car. Unluckily, the owner of the car, who revealed herself to be an elderly woman, was sitting on her porch. She screamed and tried walking to you, threatening to tell your parents. In response, you and Harry looked at each other and ran with your bikes, leaving the woman behind whilst you two laughed like maniacs high on adrenaline. In the end, he got the gist of it and could not be more grateful for your patience.

Time passed and the sun came down. You were walking back home and Harry accompanied you. Both in front of your house, you were about to open your door and wave him off, but he stopped you.

He said your name and followed, "Are we... you know, friends?"

You looked at him as if it was a silly question and he felt heat rush to his face. "We're friends, Harry," you said with a smile on your face.

He smiled back and you finally opened the door, stepping in your home. "Are you sure you don't want anything for your birthday?" you asked.

He stared at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, maybe we could meet again. You know, get me out of the house."

You both laughed and bid goodbye, shutting your door and leaving Harry. Harry, knowing he made his first friend, almost skipped to his house. Ringing the doorbell, he was met with his family, looking at him expectantly.

"So?" Vernon spat, wondering what happened.

Harry did something he rarely does: He smiled at his family. "We're friends now," he replied, leaving them astonished.

That night, Harry Potter had never slept so well under a staircase.

Chapter Text

31/07/1991

Harry's uncle has gone mad.

You knew what happened to him, it was simple: He got too many Hogwarts letters and his family hid in a hut in the middle of the sea. You did not fuss over it.

However, on the same night, the boy felt worse than ever. As he laid on the floor, drawing himself a birthday cake, he imagined you in front of his house, wondering why no one was answering the door, disappointed. He was afraid he would never see you again, his only friend. Worse than that, he imagined you thinking that he willingly left you without bidding farewell.

In response to the thoughts flooding inside of his head, Harry felt his eyes water. An alarm rang from his watch, indicating that it was finally his birthday. He knew most people would find it to be a special day, but to him, July 31st was the same as any other day–

BANG!

Harry jumped out of his position along with his family, who had been sleeping. The hut's door kept being pushed, banged and hit until it was finally knocked down, revealing... a large man?

******************

01/09/1991

The Hogwarts Express was about to depart in more than half an hour and yet, you were already in your compartment. You were peacefully reading 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1' for the second time as you heard your car door slide open.

"Oh, sorry. Are those seats taken?" a high-pitched voice asked.

You turned to see a bushy-haired girl along with a small, chubby boy. Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom behind her. Eyes widening slightly, you replied.

"No, not at all," you replied with a smile. They both murmured small "thanks" and got in the compartment. The girl sat in front of you while the timid boy sat next to her. "My name is Hermione, and that's Neville," she said, pointing towards him with a bob of her head, "What's your name?"

You told her your name. "Are you both first years?" you asked.

"Yes, we are," she replied, "I've also never known I was a witch until a few weeks ago. My parents had trouble digesting the information, but I'm here now." You could tell that she was happy to be there, judging from her smile and bright energy.

"I'm a Muggle-born too," you told her, smiling.

"Oh, we have that in common! You know, I've done light reading on the history of magic and I've found that Muggle-borns are often judged as 'not being worthy of doing magic'," she commented with a hint of disdain in her voice.

"Yeah, I read that too!" you exclaimed. You looked over at Neville, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You felt bad and wanted to include him in the conversation. "What about you Neville?" you asked, "Did you grow up with magic?"

"Yes... I have. My parents were both wizards and so is my grandmum," he answered while looking at you, head tilted towards the ground and rubbing his feet together.

"Were?" Hermione asked.

Longbottom looked at her with a slight panicked look on his face. "I mean they're not... there anymore."

Hermione sucked in a small breath. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she then replied. She truly felt bad for him as she thought they had died. On the other hand, you knew how they both went mad and you could only sympathise with him. He missed his parents, and so did you. The Thompsons were great, although they were very pushy when it came to studying. They held a strange admiration for the Wizarding World ever since they found out about your abilities, which made you feel a weight on your shoulders to succeed. "Yeah... but your grandma uses magic, right? What's it like?" you asked him.

Neville let himself laugh a little, growing comfortable. "Oh, it's a lot of knitting," he confessed. Both you and Hermione looked at him strangely before he cleared his throat. "I mean– Are you two familiar with the Self-Knitting Needles?" he asked whilst mimicking a knitting gesture.

"No," you both replied at the same time.

"Wait, actually–" you started, "I think I've seen one of those around Diagon Alley."

Hermione looked eager to know more as Neville continued. "Yes, my grandma got some for Christmas once and now she can't stop making things. I've already got 12 at home–"

"Twelve?" Hermione butted in, her voice projecting in disbelief whilst you laughed at her expression.

"Yes..." Longbottom replied. "She even made some for Trevor, and I really don't understand it," he said in a desperate tone.

"Who's Trevor?' Hermione asked.

"Oh, he's my–" Neville searched in his pockets. "Uhh... He should be..." His hands began roaming everywhere on him, trying to find his toad. He let his arms limp to his sides in a defeated sigh. "I... I think I've lost him again. Trevor is my toad," he said, ashamed, "It always happens!"

You and Hermione looked at him with sympathy. "We'll find him, don't fret," Hermione reassured while standing up. "Right?" she then said your name to comfort Neville, who was on the brink of sobbing.

"Yes! Neville we'll find your toad, don't worry about it," you told him, following Hermione, patting his shoulder as you were leaving the compartment.

"What about you two go from here to the front of the train while I go check the back?" Hermione suggested.

"I would appreciate that very much," Neville said, growing shy.

"Alright, we'll see you!" you told Hermione, who nodded in response. You parted ways along with him.

"Are toads usually loud?" you ask the boy.

"No... not really. They're hard to find," he confessed. "Thank you for helping though..." he said, growing red in the face.

"It's really my pleasure, Neville," you replied sincerely. You always thought he was not treated fairly by other students despite his good heart.

The remaining of the ride was filled with meeting new people and asking them if they're seen a toad. At some point, you've come across the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan's compartment and you froze. When you asked them if they had seen Trevor, Fred's said he had, making both yours and Neville's faces light up. He then pulled out a chocolate frog and it jumped right on your sweater as the boys in the cart laughed. You immediately yelped and slapped it away, then accidentally squished it under your shoes. Everyone looked disappointed until you heard an "I would still eat it" from Lee Jordan, earning a synchronised "ew" from the twins and a gag from Neville.

The ride came to an end as everyone got off the Hogwarts Express. You were alongside Neville and Hermione, whom you have grown comfortable with. You were on the tip of your toes at all times, trying to spot a speck of black hair next to a set of red strands.

"Right, then! First years, this way, please!" a booming voice resonated. "Come on, now, first years, don't be shy! Come on now, hurry up!" You got closer to the man with the loud voice to see Hagrid. You knew he was huge, but seeing him up close was nothing close to what you expected. The man was nearly three times your height and you had to strain your neck to look up at him.

"Right then," he continued, "This way to the boats. Come on, now, follow me!"

First years used boats to get to the school. One boat contained around three to four people as Hagrid's could hardly fit only him. You travelled with your two new acquaintances along with a dark-skinned boy named Dean Thomas, who did not have anyone else to go with. You both quickly became acquainted because of his easy going nature. Finally, after you analysed everyone's faces, you were able to see the back of Harry's head next to Ron. The red-head felt eyes on him, and he turned around to see you wide-eyed, ogling at him and Harry. His face contorted into one of disturbment as he looked at Harry, nudging him.

"Don't be obvious... but there's this person behind you looking at us with her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Worse than that Hermione girl, I tell ya," he whispered, leaning into his friend's ear.

"Really?" Harry asked. He suddenly made a full body twist to look behind him, earning Ron's groan.

You both made eye contact and you smiled while he displayed shock on his face, hearing Ron cry in a hushed tone "What part of you doesn't understand 'Don't be obvious'?!". You raised your arms to say "What are you doing here?" knowing full well why he was there. The green-eyed boy, on the other hand, started laughing and waving at you, feeling incredibly lucky. He looked at Ron besides him.

"I know them," he confessed.

"Oh blimey," he could only respond.

You all reached the ground and you approached the duo, leaving Hermione, Neville and Dean with a small "let's talk later". You were all going up flights of stairs and you finally caught up to Harry in front, who looked at you with eyes glimmering.

"Since when are you a student here?" he whispered.

"Since... around a month ago I suppose?" you laughed along with the boy. Ron popped his head from Harry's right side and you were about to greet him until you were interrupted.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said a high, raspy voice that you recognized. Looking towards the voice to reveal Mcgonagall, you smiled. She saw you in front and recognized you, smiling slightly brighter at you. She continued, clasping her hands in front of her, "Now, in a few moments, you'll pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses."

You saw Harry and Ron look at each other, slightly worried.

"They are Gryffindor... Hufflepuff... Ravenclaw... and Slytherin."

As she said the name of the last house, you could feel people shift besides you. You looked over to see a young Draco smiling and nodding with his goons confidently. You sighed and looked back at Mcgonagall.

"Now, while you're here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn your points... Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most awarded house points is awarded the house cup–"

"TREVOR!"

Mcgonagall displayed a look of surprise as Neville launched at her feet, trapping a toad in his hands. He looked up at her and there was a moment of silence. The lady remained calm as the boy gulped and went back to his former place, murmuring a small "sorry". You looked over to your right to see Harry and Ron smile, which made you smile at your turn. Mcgonagall spoke up once again.

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily." Her gaze lingered on you as she nodded as a way of telling you to not be too anxious. She finally walked away.

You were once again about to speak to the duo as you heard a voice coming from your left.

"It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts," Malfoy surged. Whispers and murmurs began resonating at the entrance, making your neighbour the centre of the attention. "This is Crabbe, Goyle. And I'm Malfoy–" he said, walking up in front of Harry, "--Draco Malfoy."

You and Ron snickered simultaneously, making you both look at each other whilst Harry held a curious expression. Draco's eyes flickered between the two of you.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" he asked. He looked at Ron, "No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley. And you–" he looked at your attire, "–you look lost. A Mudblood, perhaps!"

The redhead looked down in shame. Anger bubbled inside of you. How dare a kid say such a thing?

"White hair, arrogant and beggar for daddy's money? You're clearly a 'Malfoy' alright," you snapped. Gasps were heard as Malfoy's eyes widened. You continued, gesturing to Ron, "You don't get to speak to us like that." Ron looked up at you and smiled at you for sticking up for him.

Malfoy turned to Harry. "We'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends–" Draco looked directly at you and Ron "-- with the wrong sort." Draco then put out his hand for a shake. "I can help you there," he finished.

There was a long silence.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," replied Harry.

Draco went back to his friends, slightly embarrassed, as you, Harry and Ron exchanged grateful glances. Mcgonagall was revealed to be behind Draco.

"... They're ready for you. Follow me," she said as she led everyone through a huge door, revealing the Great Hall.

Chapter Text

01/09/1991

As Mcgonagall waltzed in the Great Hall, every first-year seemed glued to her. Nobody would dare disturb anyone. You looked around, heart speeding up in greater anticipation. Candles were floating above you, releasing a light smell of wax. The walls had beautifully coloured windows although they held a certain amount of dirt, considering the fact that the castle was old. Every student had a plate stationed in front of them. Some looked like they were impatient to eat while other students were staring directly at the crowd of new pupils, and it made you nervous. You were about to be sorted in front of everyone, and all of their eyes will be on you, which was a thought that made your stomach bubble in anxiety. You could hear Hermione ramble behind you.

"It's not real, the ceiling," she started and you looked back at her. You were not sure whether she was talking to the girl besides her or to herself. "It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History," she finished. You too knew that, as your parents have not ceased to practically shove your face in your school books ever since you got them.

Ron turned to you while you followed the deputy headmistress.

"Thank you for defending me back there... I'm Ron Weasley," he said, extending his hand towards you.

You took his hand and gladly shook it, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You told him your name. "And don't worry about it. If you're friends with my friends–" you gestured to Harry, " –then you're my friend too," you finished.

Ron's face beamed in delight. Your small conversation was cut short by everyone coming to a stop, making you look at Mcgonagall standing next to a pointy hat resting on top of a chair in the front of the Great Hall.

"All right, will you wait along here, please?" she questioned, making an area for the first-years with a scroll in her hand. Everyone complied. "Now, before we begin–" Dumbledore, who you have barely noticed, stood up. Seeing him with your own eyes, he looked much older and his white hair seemed to be practically glowing under the light of the candles. " –Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

There was a slight silence of anticipation from everyone before the old wizard spoke.

"I have a few short-term notices I wish to announce," he said, licking his lips before continuing, "The first-years, please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students," he said, looking at the Weasley twins. "Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch–" he gestured to a man in the back of the room with long, dirty hair, " – has asked me to remind you the the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death," he said as if he was stating the obvious. A look of discomfort made its way on every student's face. "Thank you," he finished cordially, sitting down.

The room went calm and first-years were suddenly startled as the Sorting Hat began to sing:

Oh,you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your tops hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell brave of heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And you won't get in a flap!

You're safe in my hands(though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!

"When I call your name, you will come forth," demanded Mcgonagall as she unrolled the scroll, "I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses." She looked at the first name. "Hermione Granger."

Hermione looked as if her heart stopped beating. "Oh no. Okay, relax," she murmured to herself while coming forward.

You heard Ron lean into you and Harry. "Mental that one, I'm telling ya," he whispered, eyebrows raised in judgement. You saw Harry nod discreetly in agreement while you pursed your lips, looking back at her. Hermione sat down on the stool, letting the tall witch place the Sorting Hat on top of her head.

"Ah, right then... Hmm... right," the Hat began murmuring, its crease for his eyebrows frowning. "Okay... GRYFFINDOR!" It finally yelled.

The said house's members began loudly clapping and some even yelling to welcome the new girl. The Hall flooded in their loudness, making you wince slightly. Mcgonagall took the hat back and Hermione jumped out of her seat, practically skipping towards the Gryffindor table where everyone wanted to shake her hand.

The sound died down for Mcgonagall to continue. She read the next name: "Draco Malfoy," she pronounced. The room went completely quiet and the blonde, who held a slightly worried face, came up front. You wondered for a bit what would have happened if he was not in Slytherin, which was probably what made the boy worried.

He sat down and before Mcgonagall even began to lower the hat on him, it boomed with no hesitation. "SLYTHERIN!"

Just like the previous house, the Slytherin table made a loud noise to welcome the new member, who held a confident smirk on his face whilst walking towards the table, taking a seat.

"Susan Bones!" Mcgonagall called out.

While the girl was getting sorted, Harry yelped.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, touching his scar.

"Harry, what is it?" asked Ron in concern.

"Nothing... Nothing, I'm fine," he replied. You looked at him and the black-haired boy felt your gaze on him. You decided to speak up, noticing Snape looking at him.

"The staff member in black over there is staring at you, it's almost creep–" Ron was looking at you until his heart dropped.

"Ronald Weasley," the witch said. The red-head looked at you and Harry and gulped. You sent him thumbs up and he tried his best to smile. He marched towards the stoll and took a seat. Turning around, his face melted into one of horror. It almost made you laugh, knowing that nothing bad will happen.

Mcgonagall rested the hat on him. "HAH!" it squawked, making both the lady and Ron jump in surprise. "Another Weasley! I know just what to do with you... GRYFFINDOR!"

The boy sagged in relief, now walking towards the Gryffindor table as everyone there screamed. You could see the rest of his family who was previously sorted there stand up, waiting for Ron to come see them full of joy.

The joy came to a sudden end as the black-haired woman pronounced another name.

"Harry Potter."

The Hall held a loud silence and Dumbledore sat up straighter. voices began being heard across the room from the crowd of pupils and Harry looked at you as he was slowly going in the front. You smiled at him and nodded.

"Everything will be fine," you whispered to him above the crowd's murmurs.

His face contorted into a smile of appreciation, now slightly relieved. He mouthed a "thank you" and he sat down on the stool. Time seemed to be going in slow-motion as Mcgonagall put the hat on top of him.

"Hmm... difficult, very difficult," the Sorting Hat admitted. "Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh, yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you...?" it murmured.

You could not hear what Harry said, but you knew what he was saying.

"Not Slytherin... Not Slytherin!"

"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure?" the Hat asked in an almost playful tone. "You could be great, you know. It's all here, in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that. No? Well, if you're sure. Better be..." The hat took a long pause, the room growing so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Students were leaning in in anticipation until the Hat cried out:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Nearly everyone seated at the Gryffindor table shot up, clapping and shouting. Even staff members applauded the boy for finding his house. People were shaking his hand, tapping him on the back, doing anything to get a look at him. It lasted for a long time until they all quieted down, letting the Sorting continue.

Your patience began thinning out as Mcgonagall seemed to call out every name except yours.

"Terry boot!"

"Mandy Brocklehunt!"

"Millicent Bulstrode!"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley!"

"Neville Longbottom!"

"Morag Dougal!"

And a lot of other names were said until you finally heard it. Your complete name, from start to finish.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as if it wanted to be let out. You walked up to Mcgonagall who felt your anxiety. She let you sit down and she patted your back in comfort before putting the hat on you.

"Oh..." it simply said. The Sorting Hat, usually energetic, went almost limp. The room was completely silent, waiting for the pointy hat to say something. You, on the other hand, could practically feel it search through your head. Your every detail and stories were now his to know. "You... have come a long way to be here," it stated almost melancholically. "I... I, I don't..." The room exploded in murmurs and gossip while you looked at Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Dean. They each had a confused look on their faces. The older students, on the other hand, knew one thing:

The Sorting Hat never stuttered.

Mcgonagall, however, understood as she remembered her own sorting. It took the hat more than five minutes to sort her, debating whether to put her in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. She got what Hogwarts called a Hatstall.

The hat above you started murmuring some intelligible phrases, and hoped more than anything to be sorted into the same house as all of your friends.

One minute went by...

Then another...

And then another one...

Soon, people grew impatient and on the edge of their seats. Seven minutes had passed and the majority of students were hungry. At this point, it physically hurt for you to stay put, feeling shame drowning you.

The Sorting Hat finally came to its senses. "You have a great desire for greatness... to make your trip here worth it and succeed. You are also very resourceful... However, You are wise. Your creative and witty mind can not be contained. It is a vital part of you. You are willing to stand up for your friends against the most powerful forces... You can be scared, but it will never stop you from protecting the ones you love.

However, to protect your friends, you need loyalty. To obtain such knowledge, every bone in your body has to be hard-working, and lastly, to achieve greatness, you need patience... You shall be sent to–"

You were on the edge of your seat just like everyone else. You needed to be in the same house as everyone else. You wanted nothing but the best for them, and being in the same house as them would help you fulfil this desire. Your heart burned in desire and stress, causing your hands to clench so hard your knuckles turned white. You could not imagine being excluded. You have often felt like a burden and, in Gryffindor, you might just be able to find a sense of belonging, and that was all you ever wanted.

"–HUFFLEPUFF!"

Chapter Text

1/09/1991

"–HUFFLEPUFF!"

You did not dare blink, nor could you focus on anything in particular. You stared in front of you, frozen and powerless. Time seemed to escape as you felt the room fill with the sound of silent gasps. The information sinking in, you broke out of your daze to find your new house's table abruptly roaring and applauding you. A vibrant energy radiated from the Hufflepuffs and you even heard people whistling for you. Your worries slightly dispersed from the sound of their cheers and Mcgonagall took the hat, letting you stand up and practically skip towards your table. The Great Hall became the home for the Hufflepuffs' cries, and it filled you with a sense of inclusion.

However, your joy wavered as your orbs landed on your Gryffindor friends' faces as you waltzed towards your table. Every one of them had a look of slight disappointment, whereas Harry seemed as if he had officially lost you.

You shot them a smile and a thumbs up as to reassure them. Arriving at your table, people were quick to reach out for your hand and shake it. You sat next to a girl you remembered as Hannah Abbott and across a girl with bright red hair, bangs that framed her face, and freckles that covered her cheeks. You sat down and you randomly thought of someone. You began searching through the sea of Hufflepuff students for a familiar face. You gazed at every one of them until your eyes landed on one person in particular.

"Diggory..." you thought.

You wondered what it would have been like if he had not died during the Triwizard Tournament. He looked shy and held rejuvenated features. His jawline was not as defined and he was significantly shorter. You guessed him to be around fourteen years old. He was, from memory, the only Hufflepuff properly represented in the Harry Potter series.

The black-haired witch sorted another boy, Blaise Zambini, and the Hall became quiet.

Clink clink clink!

Everyone's attention was diverted towards the staff's table. Mcgonagall had tapped her goblet with her spoon.

"Your attention, please," she said in her slightly raspy voice. Dumbledore stood up powerfully, his hands resting on the table. He raised his nose and spoke.

"Let the feast begin!"

Mountains of foods appeared on the table, such as chicken, turkey, bread buns, salads, mashed potatoes, corn, ribs, everything. You even could have sworn seeing wine on the teacher's table. You saw people's eyes widening along with yours and, not long after, everyone started helping themselves, filling their plates up with the rich cuisine offered. As you placed food on your platter, a voice beside you spoke up.

"I'm Hannah Abbott," she said, "Hannah spelled the same backwards."

She gave you a crooked smile as she looked at you, then directed her attention towards the food displayed in front of her.

"And you are...?" she asked, while stabbing her fork in a chicken wing and trying to set her food on the plate. She would not use her fingers or a knife to put the dish on her platter, so she eventually started struggling. You told her your name and she simply nodded, now too frustrated by her food.

You ogled at her direction along with the girl sitting across you. She looked like she was on the verge of bursting with laughter. Hannah tried to smudge the fork on the plate, but her efforts were in vain. Suddenly, she violently shook her fork back and forth to get the chicken wing off the ustensil's dents, causing it to fly swiftly in front of her. The older male student who sat in front of her jumped to his side, dodging the piece of meat as it smashed on the wall behind him. Hannah stared at it, eyes wide, then slumped over her plate, utterly embarrassed.

"Sorry..." she murmured in a guilty tone to the older Huffplepuff.

He waved her off with a slight smile, though she could not help but get red in the face from shame. Her straight, dark blonde hair, which was half put-up, hid both sides of her head, Her blue eyes stared at her platter as she fumbled with her utensil.

You made the decision to stab another piece of chicken in the huge plate in front of you, and hovered it above her plate, sliding it down the dents of your fork with the help of your knife. As the food landed on her plate, she looked up in surprise to see you. You caught her gaze and the corners of your tips tugged, giving her a smile. She flushed in self-consciousness.

"Sorry, that was stupid," she said in a slight Irish accent, "Why did I not think of that?"

You both laughed it off and you turned to the girl across you, who witnessed the whole interaction. She, too, ate in a peculiar way. She held her fork in a fist.

"What's your name?" you asked. The girl comically looked both ways with her mouth filled with food, as to make sure that you were talking to her.

"M' n'ms Shushn B'ns," she tried to say with what you thought was an attempted smile. You and Hannah looked at her quizzically. The freckled girl swallowed her food.

"Sorry, um, I'm Susan Bones," she clarified with a hand over her mouth. You noticed that she was slightly shorter and rounder than the other girls your age and her brown eyes held some sort of vibrance behind them.

Hannah butted in. "Hey, I know ya! Your family worked for the Ministry, no?" she asked. Susan frowned.

"Yes..." she replied, not fond of the attention she got from the mention of her family. Hannah then turned to you whilst you ate.

"And you, you have a funny accent, where ya from?" she questioned.

You told them and the conversation diverted towards many different subjects. It went from the topic of travelling, to Hogwarts, to teachers. You found that they were both very lovely to be with.

"I heard that Snape is bloody ruthless towards Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs," gossiped Susan.

"Really?" you gasped, although it was not really a surprise.

All three of you looked over at Snape.

"I swear! I heard he gave a Hufflepuff detention for a week for getting a coughing fit in his class... He said he was 'being too loud'!" the redhead continued. Hannah shivered at the thought as she stared at the professor up and down. There was a small pause where you all just thought about what could happen with him as your teacher.

Suddenly, Snape, as if he knew you were looking, snapped his head towards you, eyes piercing your eyes first.

The three of you quickly scrambled to look somewhere else. Hannah started counting the amount of candles floating above her whilst Susan became an expert food critic, inspecting the plates before her and looking deep in thought. You, on the other hand, contemplated analysing the room's rich architecture, your index resting on your lips and hand under your chin. You felt Snape glare at you from across the room, causing you to gulp.

At the end of the feast, you felt as if your stomach was moments from bursting. People eventually stopped eating and, seeing this, Albus Dumbledore spoke up. He made a speech you were too drowsy to listen to. The only thing you heard was:

"And now bedtime, off you trot!" he demanded.

Soon, everyone got up and started following their prefects to their dorms. You soon enough snuck off for a bit to meet Harry. It took a while until you found him amidst a crowd.

"Harry! Ron!" you whisper-shouted. He snapped around and saw you, which caused him to light up. Ron followed suit and his eyebrows raised along with the corners of his lips.

"Hey, listen. I know I'm in a different house, but can we still see each other during breaks?" you asked, hopeful.

Harry nodded and Ron spoke up. "Sure! We-" He was interrupted by the loud voices of the prefects.

"Gryffindors, follow me please. Keep up, thank you."

"Ravenclaw, follow me. This way."

"Hufflepuffs, please follow me!"

"Slytherins, over here."

As you heard this, you looked at your prefect and started following him. You turned to the boys to wave goodbye and so did they. You went on and joined Susan and Hannah.

The way to the dormitories was a little scary. Passing by the kitchen, you had to pass by a lot of dark tunnels. The only light source was the occasional torch there and there. Finally, you all arrived in front of a perfectly circular door, which was placed next to a mountain of 6 wooden barrels.

"Alright," the prefect, who had brown, curly hair and thin glasses, turned around. He smiled and spoke gently. "To open the door to your dormitory, you need to tap the barrels here in this order: two from the far left to right on top, and two from the bottom right to the left," he said while demonstrating.

A loud noise was heard and the circular wooden door opened, making a slight creaking noise.

You all began entering the common room and what you saw left you speechless. The room was mostly green, brown, light beige and yellow. Plants invaded the tables, the counters and there were even some hanging from the ceiling. There were windows on top of the tall room, showing the beautiful night sky and letting moonlight shine inside. The architecture screamed "home-y" and there was a tall balcony with bookshelves, more plants and sofas. It looked like the Hufflepuffs valued comfort over anything else. There were multiple circular doors everywhere.

"Each circular door is a dorm. All girl's dormitories are at your right. Boys, same to your left," he said. "Also, if one of you boys even tries to enter the girl's dormitory, this will happen. I'll invite a girl to come here and open one of the doors," he continued, pointing to a girl's dorm entrance. Hannah raised her hand and he motioned for her to try.

She easily opened it up and looked at him. "Good, now stand aside." She did as he told her to.

He then tried to open the same door, but it wouldn't budge.

"Understood?" Everyone nodded at his simple, yet clear demonstration.

You eventually all found your respective dorms and, luckily, you shared yours with Hannah and Susan. You noticed how, compared to the Gryffindor dorms, you shared yours with two other people, not three.

You, Hannah and Susan all organised your stuff to your liking and, after talking and introducing you owl to everyone, including Hannah's owl and Susan's cat, you all drifted to sleep.

On the other hand, Hermione came up to Harry and Ron.

"Hello," she greeted. She told him how she saw him talk to you, and asked how he knew you. Ron took interest in the question as well.

"Oh, they're my neighbour. They're also my first friend," he said, smiling innocently at the thought of you. "Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing," the girl replied. "Just curious."

She went to the girl's dormitories and Harry and Ron shared a look with their lips pursed. They both went to their dormitories and, soon enough, everyone slept soundly except for Hary, who was kept up.

As he was petting his owl, a lot of questions surged in his mind. Will he be okay? Will you be okay? This dorm is fun... Do you have the same dorm as him?

Some meaningful and some meaningless thoughts swept through his mind, keeping him up. He, eventually, fell asleep promptly along with Ron who had been snoring long before.

Chapter Text

02/09/1991

The sun began rising and the light shone in your dorm, creating a vibrant energy. The room was filled with a scent that you could only get when you're a kid walking outside on a cool-weathered Saturday morning. You rubbed your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbow. Upon the sight of your room, which was spacious and had a comfortable atmosphere to it, you felt like you woke up in a dream. A dream that you never wanted to end.

Your room had walls that held an almost German style to it, the type that you see outside of a traditional home. Portraits and paintings littered the walls along with lamp lights, which were put out, and wooden furniture such as wardrobes, night tables and bookshelves. A dark green carpet about 18 feet in diameter covered the centre of the room, and owl stands stood near pots filled to the brim with plants.

Your silk pyjamas covered your body as you stood up, hair messy and walking at a slow pace. You heard a snicker coming from your side and you whipped your head towards the noise.

You saw giggling Hannah, pointing at Susan, who was still sleeping soundly. Soon enough, you shot a confused look at her, raising your hands by your sides. The blond-haired girl sighed with a smile, gesturing for you to come over. You strutted to her side, leaning down towards her. She put her hands on either side of her mouth, whispering in your ear.

"Susan–" she cut herself off by laughing. ""Su-Susan's snoring so loudly," she giggled again. Your eyes widened and the corners of your lips tugged up.

"What..." you said, turning your head over Susan once more.

As you walk towards the unsuspecting girl, the faint sound of a discreet hum became gradually louder. You took a good look at her.

She slept on her side in a ballerina position, her face crushed against her pillow, which was stained by the pool of drool coming from her mouth. Her snoring sounded more like a high-pitched mower that kept turning on and off, making you stare at her wide-eyed, your hand now covering your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing.

In short, Susan looked as if her soul had left her body.

Hannah hopped on her feet and strutted over to Susan, appearing next to you. She glanced your way and put her index up as a way to say "just wait". You looked at her closely, your body flooding with anticipation. The blond-haired girl started stroking Susan's round face with the back of her hand.

"C'mon sweety, ya have to wake up," she said in a sing-song motherly voice, smiling. Your hands shot up to your mouth as a way to contain your laughter. Your lungs burned, but at a good cost. Your face grew red.

The redhead groaned. "No, mom, let me be..." she rumbled.

By that point, you and Hannah could not hold it in anymore. The blonde burst out laughing as she jumped back, her hand flying up to her chest and another hand grabbing a nearby wardrobe to stabilise herself. In contrast to her, you lost complete stability as you snorted, rolling over and launching forward the foot of Susan's bed, landing on her covered feet.

Susan suddenly jumped up. "Ouch!" she yelled. The brown-eyed girl looked at you both and her eyes widened. "Oh, wowww," she said, dragging the 'wow' and clapping, her half-lidded eyes filled with irony. "What an amazing prank, you people are sooo smart and sooo mature. I am flabbergasted," she said, knowing for a fact that you two were too preoccupied with the burn in your lungs from wheezing silently.

She had stopped talking and looked over at you and Hannah, only to shoot up, grab her pillow and smack you, then blonde girl.

"OW, YOU MADWOMAN!" you screamed with a smile carved on your face. Hannah stood up wobbly.

"T-THIS IS NOT 'OW YOU TREAT YA MOTHER!" she screamed.

"SHUT UP!" the redhead yelled.

******************

As much fun as you were having, you eventually needed to get ready for your first class. Your veins were pumping in excitement, the blood flowing through you like electrical wires sending sparks in your body. Your first Hogwarts class...

You all went to eat at the Great Hall, just to see a few people there because of the early hours. It was only 6:30 and most people came in at around 7:00. There were already plates of food stacked along the table, such as toasts, jams, confectioneries, and some things you couldn't even name. Susan helped herself a lot, taking advantage of the amount displayed in front of her. You and Hannah, on the other hand, tried to eat an amount that would not make your stomach hurt during class.

Talking about class, you saw the caretaker, Argus Filch, continuously passing papers around the Great Hall. You all looked at your papers. You read your name along with:

Hufflepuff weekly schedule:

Monday and Thursday

6:30 a.m. - 8:30 a.m.: breakfast

9:00 a.m. - 10:20 a.m.: transfiguration

10:30 a.m. - 11:50 a.m.: potions

12:00 p.m. - 1:10 p.m.: lunch

1:10 p.m. - 2:30 p.m.: charms

2:40 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.: flying

6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.: dinner

9:00 p.m. - 6:00 a.m.: curfew

Tuesday

6:30 a.m. - 8:30 a.m.: breakfast

9:00 a.m. - 10:20 a.m.: history of magic

10:30 a.m. - 11:50 a.m.: herbology

12:00 p.m. - 1:10 p.m.: lunch

1:10 p.m. - 2:30 p.m.: defence against the dark arts

2:40 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.: charms

6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.: dinner

9:00 p.m. - 6:00 a.m.: curfew

Wednesday and Friday

6:30 a.m. - 8:30 a.m.: breakfast

9:00 a.m. - 10:20 a.m.: potions

10:30 a.m. - 11:50 a.m.: potions

12:00 p.m. - 1:10 p.m.: lunch

1:10 p.m. - 2:30 p.m.: defence against the dark arts

2:40 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.: history of magic

6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.: dinner

9:00 p.m. - 6:00 a.m.: curfew

Please note that every wednesday, 12:00 a.m., will be spent at the astronomy tower for telescope observations.

Susan, who sat next to you whilst Hannah sat in front, her leg up on the seat, peeked over your shoulder, her own schedule in her hands.

"Hey, we all have the same schedules!" she claimed. You looked back at her.

"Do we know what other house is going to be in our classes?" you asked, wanting to be in the gryffindor's class as well. Hannah raised her head from her own paper.

"Nu-huh," she said, munching on a small piece of bread. "We'll shee when we ge' shere," she continued, still chewing.

You were all done eating and left the Great Hall when a wave of people started coming in. You all had plenty of time to go check out the school grounds, including the library. You found that the librarian, Irma Pince, was eerie when it came to damaging books.

The three of you gathered your manuals in your dorms and eventually made your way to Transfiguration.

You knew this class would be hard, but you were willing to work for the grade. As you arrived there, you were surprised to see that you were not the first people to be there. A lot of Ravenclaws had arrived before you and they all sat together in the back of the classroom. Desks were placed in four pairs of rows in the class. You knew Harry and Ron would run late to this class, and that you would have no way to talk to them before it. You, Susan and Hannah agreed on sitting in the front. Meanwhile, Mcgonagall was sitting in front of her desk, reading God-knows-what.

The classroom filled up with students and, when 9:00 a.m. struck, she got up and began speaking. She rambled on about how transfiguration is a very imprecise and difficult branch of magic. She told us about the four types of transfiguration: transformation, vanishment, conjuration and untransfiguration. Then, she wrote something on her black board.

Transformation formula: t = ((w*C) ÷ (v*a)) * Z

You knew the formula, but you hated it nonetheless. You looked at the equation, then your friends. Then you looked back at it, and your friends again. You genuinely thought you were done with algebra when you entered this world, but your hopes were suddenly crushed when you had opened the first required book. She gave you small exercises to do on the board and you all began solving the equations in your notebooks. You looked up and Mcgonagall was nowhere to be seen, only to be replaced by a cat on her desk. You smirked at the sight. Not soon after, you heard the anticipated commotion.

Click

You heard the class' entrance door open quietly. A redhead and a black-haired came rushing in through the class, looking around in a nervous manner. Harry wiped something on his nose while breathing hard while Ron was gasping for air.

"Made it!" Ron exclaimed. "Can you imagine the look on old Mcgonagall's face if we were late?" he asked rhetorically. They were both extremely dishevelled as they still wore their bed hair along with loose ties. As Harry looked around, he saw you and his face lit up slightly. He grabbed Ron and walked towards empty seats next to you, only to be interrupted by Mcgonagall morphing from her cat form to human form in front of them. They both stared at her agape.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron could not help but comment.

Mcgonagall looked down at them, slightly irritated, and took no time to reply, "Well thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps, it'd be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket-watch. That way, one of you might be on time!"

Harry's eyes glanced back and forth between you and Mcgonagall, his mouth open in surprise. Ron, on the other hand, looked at you, then down. "We got lost," Harry replied. Ron nodded at his friend's claim in confirmation.

"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats," she said, marking the end of the conversation. She looked at them sternly one last time before walking back to her desk.

The two boys looked at each other and slightly sighed, then set their books down on the desks in front of you and sat down.

During class, you saw a note slipping in front of your desk. You looked up and saw Harry turning back on his seat to face the front anew. You gazed back at the note and read:

Can you sit with us at dinner at 6? It's just Ron and I.

You showed your note to Susan, then Hannah, who both nodded in understanding. You wrote back:

Sure, I'll be there! :)

You tapped Harry in the back, and he extended his arm behind his back, hand open and waiting for you to put your note in his hand. You did and he read what you wrote. You saw his head tilt to the side, possibly in confusion. Then, you saw him turn the paper to the right and his head went back to normal as he let out a small "oh".

You were confused at this until you realised that you drew a face on your note, making you smile at his antics. It made you feel warm inside to see such innocence coming from the boy in front of you whilst also making you want to chuckle.

Harry showed the note to Ron and he looked back at you, his lips bending into a smile and sending you a subtle thumbs-up.

Suddenly, students started getting up. You had not realised that time flew by and the clock already struck 10:20 a.m. This class made you realise that magic is really not all about incantations and physical magic, but also about logic and, sometimes, even statistics.

However, now, you were seriously nervous about meeting Snape, as he was probably one of the grumpiest characters in the series if not the grumpiest.

You got up from your seat and faced Harry and Ron. "Let's sit together in Potions," you say and they nod. You catch Hannah glancing at the two boys whilst Susan gathers her books and you light up in realisation "Oh and by the way," you started, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder as he was right in front of you, "This is Hannah and Susan," you finished, introducing your friends. They all exchanged greetings and soon enough, got out of the class as one group of five and began reading in the dungeons. Before anything got too awkward, you butted in.

"Susan told me and Hannah yesterday that Snape's apparently really strict," you started, earning the attention of everyone.

"Snape? Like the Potions professor?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Susan confirmed. "He's especially strict with Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors," she said, making everyone suddenly very conscious about their houses.

Ron looked as if he had remembered something important. "Actually, I hear Fred and George talk about him quite often. It's actually the only person they're afraid to prank, and that says something..." he murmured at the end, shivering at the thought of his new teacher.

You were almost shaking in anticipation as Susan, Hannah, Ron, Harry and you all respectively sat down in the middle of the classroom. Hermione sat at your left and Harry at your right. The room was lit by nothing but small sets of windows and candles on your stations. There was a stand for students to place their cauldrons in along with vials and the room was almost flooded in dust. You all decided to start reading slightly ahead while the classroom steadily became filled with the sound of conversations around you.

The chatter in the room slowly died as the clock struck 10:30 a.m., signalling the start of the class. Your heart beat fast and you let out a nervous exhale. You gazed at your friends who seemed just as nervous as you, except Ron, who looked as if the end of the world was imminent. Sympathising with you, you laid back on your chair and you tapped Ron's shoulder. His eyes landed on you and you whispered a small "It'll be okay, just relax," to him. His shoulder dropped slightly from the tension and he smiled, his eyes filled with appreciation for your care, mouthing a "thank you". Harry watched the interaction and felt pride in him, knowing that you have become acquainted with his friend, meaning that he would be able to spend time with you both.

CLANK!

Your heart leapt as the door swung open. Everyone's head whipped towards the noise to see the man in black. Snape began waltzing at a quick pace inside the class, his cloak swishing behind him and not even bothering to close the door nor take a look at his students. The uninterested man captured everybody's attention in a mere second.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," he started as he reached the front of the room, voice monotone and grey. You recognized his words as the same he used in the first movie. "As such, I do not expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few... who possess the predisposition..." he marked a pause, finally looking at Draco, who smirked. He slowly grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around his torso. "I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses... I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death," he finished, his voice becoming quieter at the end of his speech.

The class stared at him dead silent. You could only hear the sound of the Ravenclaws' quills scratching their papers as they took notes. The tension could be seen and, as you were hyper focused on the moment, you forgot to breathe. You could see two Slytherin boys in front of you look at each other with stars in their eyes, who you recognized to be Blaise and Zabini and the other, Theodore Nott. You then peeked at your row of friends besides you and you caught Ron looking at you with a face that screamed "help me" whilst Harry wrote down what Snape said.

"Then again–" Snape started, "bring your attention back to him, "–maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not. pay. ATTENTION!" the teacher finished, punctuating his words as he stared right at Harry, who had not been looking at him whilst he talked.

You got nervous as you glanced his way and nudged his shoulder, making his head snap towards you, then Snape. The man looked at the boy with a piercing gaze that could have made anyone feel small. However, Harry did not back down and stared back at him with the same vigour.

"Mr. Potter..." he said. Ron both gulped. "Our new... celebrity," he commented sarcastically. There was a pause and you and Ron made eye contact, you both displaying discomfort on your faces.

Snape slowly creeped closer and closer to Harry. "Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

You were almost startled by how fast Hermione put her hand up, almost hitting the side of your head. You calmed down and looked back at your professor, who began speaking again. "You don't know? Well, let's try again... Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" Hermione put her hand up again, mouthing "I know!".

"I don't know, sir," Harry replied coolly.

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape questioned once again. Harry peeked at Hermione, then the man in front of him.

"I don't know, Sir," the black-haired boy replied. As he said this, you felt everyone's eyes move towards the scarred child next to you, sometimes glancing at Hermione and you in the process. Your full attention was on Snape, but you peeked in front of you to see a fair-skinned boy with dark brown hair looking at you. Theodore Nott, you believed. You shot him the slightest smile, hoping that the cloaked man would not notice, and he did the same. It was a brief interaction until Snape spoke.

"Pity," he stated.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed whilst you played with your hands in nervousness.

"Clearly, fame isn't everything... is it, Mr. Potter?" he continued, trying to bring down the boy's confidence. Draco let out a sharp, humoured exhale at the teacher's comment and looked at the said Gryffindor.

"Clearly, Hermione knows. Seems a pity not to ask her," Harry snapped back.

People around silently chuckled and you smiled at his ability to not back down. The Sorting Hat was right, this boy would have done well in Slytherin...

"Silence...!" Snape demanded. He suddenly came very close to Harry, yelling "Put your hand down, silly girl!" to Hermione as he waltzed by her. He grabbed a stool and sat right in front of him amidst the rows of students. As he sat, his eyes landed on you by accident and he recognized you as one of the students who were gossiping about him during the Feast yesterday night. He darkened his gaze at you and, being stubborn, you held eye contact with him. He slowly looked back at Harry.

"For your information, Potter... Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Dead... A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of Aconite..."

Harry held eye contact with Snape, which obviously destabilised the older man. Soon enough, he diverted his attention from the boy.

"Well... why aren't you all copying this down?" he asked around. You heard shuffling everywhere as people started writing everything down in their books. Snape went to sit back down on his desk.

"And Gryffindors...note that five points will be taken from your house for your classmate's cheek," he added bitterly. He glanced back at you, looking you up and down in distaste before going back to whatever work was on his desk.

Slytherins laughed at Harry whilst some Gryffindors glanced at him in irritation. You subtly patted his back and he looked at you, his lips pursing. He then smiled and mouthed a very genuine "thank you".

The clock struck 11:50 and everyone rushed to head toward the Great Hall. Harry and Ron turned to you as you all got out of the class. You saw Hannah and Susan waiting for you but your attention was caught by a voice calling your name behind you.

"We'll see you later?" Harry asked you. You looked at him and the corners of your lips tugged up.

"Yeah, you can count on me," you replied, smiling at him and Ron.

"Alright, take care," Ron butted in. You turned your back at them, waving them goodbye for now, and you rushed towards your two female friends.

Lunch was normal apart from the fact that you could feel Snape shoot daggers at you and your two friends. Then, for charms, Professor Flitwick assigned seats and you sat far from your Gryffindor friends. At least you had Susan right next to you whilst Hannah was on the other side of the classroom. You could almost see her mop in disappointment even from there.

You also had the opportunity to watch the small dispute between Hermione and Ron about the levitation spell's incantation, only to be interrupted by Seamus exploding his feather.

The last class was one that you anticipated: flying.

You all met up outside, in a small field. Every student formed two long rows of students, facing each other and a broom in front of them. You, Susan and Hannah all stood next to each other whilst Dean, Neville, Harry and Ron were across you. The grass was of a vibrant green and the sky was nothing but blue. Birds were chirping and a slight wind caressed you, making the hot air cooler. You looked at Harry, who looked nervous. He looked up at you and you waved at him, and he replied by giving you a toothy smile and waving back. A lady with grey hair and yellow eyes came through the two rows.

"Good afternoon, class," she resonated.

"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch," everyone chanted.

"Good afternoon, Amanda. Good afternoon," she repeated. She got to the end of the tunnel of pupils and turned around. "Welcome to your first flying lesson," she greeted. "Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up," she said. Like she wished, everybody walked to their broomsticks. "Stick your right hand over the broom and say 'up'!" she finished and you all began to try getting your brooms.

"UP!" Draco and Harry said, both getting it the first time.

"With feeling!" commented Madam Hooch.

"Up!" you screamed, making the broom fly up in the air way past the height of your head. You gasped and a pang of anxiety shot through you as you heard a series of screams around you. Everyone looked at you wide-eyed and you froze, only to be pulled to the side by your teacher, the broom landing where you once stood.

"Careful there," Hooch said, patting your shoulder. "Try again"

You looked at her, then walked up next to your broom once again, uncertain. Many people have stopped to look. You put your hand over your broom.

Before you got the chance to say "up", your brooms flew to your hand, making your heart stop as you tried to gain your composure. You looked back at your teacher, who smiled approvingly. She began moving along the rows again. You looked at Harry, who stared at you, utterly impressed. Meanwhile, Susan, next to you, didn't make her broom budge.

"UP!" Ron cried desperately, growing impatient. The broom suddenly sat up and hit Ron's nose in the process. Ron held his face in his hand, groaning, and people around him saw and started laughing, you and Harry's laughter being louder than anyone else's.

"Shut up, you two," Ron said with a slight smile, acting annoyed.

Eventually, everyone got their brooms up. Hannah was the last one to do so and she was flushed red, as she had to continue screaming "Up!" for another 30 seconds while everyone stared at her.

"Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it," Hooch started, "And grip it tight! You wouldn't wanna be sliding off the end." Everyone put their broom in between their legs. "When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard, keep your brooms steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down," she demanded. "On my whistle in three, two..." She had barely blown the whistle until Neville rose, whimpering in panic. You widened your eyes at him.

Madam Hooch saw his expression and tried to make him focus.

"Mr. Longbottom–"

He rose higher and people were starting to cause commotion, almost yelling between themselves. You, however, just stood in silence and looked at him in disbelief.

"Mr– Mr. Longbottom!" Hooch stuttered. Neville tried talking to his broom.

"Down, Down!" he cried.

Neville's broom then took off, dragging the boy with it. You saw Ron clasp his hand on his mouth whilst Harry yelled Neville's name in concern.

"Come back down this instant!" the teacher yelled.

Neville began turning high in the air, smashing against castle walls everywhere and, when he finally got on ground-level, he came charging at the now bunch of students at an alarming speed. Madam Hooch stood in front of the crowd, pointing her wand at him.

"Mr. Longbottom!" she called out before jumping on the ground to the side. Everyone parted in different directions, avoiding Neville who came flying dangerously towards them. Harry grabbed you by your arms and pulled you to the side, protecting you. You were both panting in panic. Neville then came back up in the air and charged towards a statue holding a spear. Passing by it, his robe caught onto the sharp end of its spear and he dangled from it for a second, before the robe tore and he promptly fell to the ground. You let out a loud gasp, furrowing your brows and biting your fist.

"Everyone, out of the way!" Madam Hooch said as she ran towards the student. Hermione whispered to you.

"Is he alright?" she whispered. In response, you could only give her an unconvincing smile that said "I hope so". She pursed her lips at this. Your instructor then cradled Neville into her arms.

"Oh, oh, dear... that's a broken wrist," she said, tutting at the end. "Poor boy. Come on now, up you get," she told him as she made his rise on his feet. You looked over at Draco, who saw the Remembrall Neville received during lunch and put it in his pocket, smiling with his goons. "Everyone's to keep their feet firmly to the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing," she demanded whilst she walked back towards the castle. "Understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say Quidditch!" she finished, walking out of view.

You quickly butted in, furious.

"I saw that, Malfoy," you called out. People's attention diverted to you and a small path amidst the students was created between you and the said boy. "Give it back!" you demanded. Students around you were confused until their eyes landed on the ball inside Draco's palm. He looked at you in distaste.

"I could make better use of it. I mean, maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse," he joked, making the Slytherins laugh except Blaise and Theodore, who stood next to each other.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" Harry snapped back at him.

Draco looked behind him, gazing at the boy who just spoke up. "Defending your little lover now, Potter?" he smirked along with his friends, "The answer is simple: No. Actually, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find." He threw the Remembrall to catch it right back, mounting on his broom in the process and then promptly flying off. "How about on the roof?" he said. He then flew high enough in the air to impress everyone.

"What's the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?" He yelled from the air, turning his broom to face the crowd of students.Harry sighed and decided to mount his broom. Hermione quickly tried stopping him.

"Harry, no way! You heard what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don't even know how to fly!" she warned him. Harry glanced at her, then at your concerned self, and flew off almost immediately. "What. An. Idiot," she said, irritated and almost discouragedé

He flew up to join Malfoy in the air. "Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!" the black-haired boy yelled.

Malfoy kept throwing and catching the ball, saying, "Is that so?" in a teasing tone. Harry then launched to grab the ball, but Draco dodged him by spinning. Harry got his composure back in the air. "Have it your way, then," Malfoy said, throwing the precious ball far.

Harry's eyes widened and he began flying as fast as he could towards the ball. He was headed directly towards a wall until he caught it, spinning in the process and gaining control over his broom. Your breath hitched and so did your friends'. Harry looked at the Remembrall in his hand, then at everyone else on the ground as he began lowering himself near all of you. Everyone began cheering for him and congratulating him as he got back on the ground.

"Nice going, Harry!" one student said.

"That was wicked!" another one exclaimed.

Harry looked back at you and it quietened down a little. He made his way through the sea of students and reached for you. When you both finally came face-to-face, you smiled at him.

"Thank you, Harry. You did a good thing," you warmly congratulated along with the others, gesturing to the ball in his palm. He gave you a toothy smile and took your hand, placing the Remembrall in your hand. "No, thank y-"

"HARRY POTTER!"

Everyone's heart stopped as you glanced towards the new voice. When you all saw Mcgonagall waltz towards Harry, your hearts dropped. The boy looked at her, then you and Ron with his eyes full of terror as his hand stopped holding yours.

"Come with me," Mcgonagall demanded.

Potter put his head down and began walking with the woman, shoulders sunken and wearing a gloomy expression. People around, except most Slytherins, had their joy die down. You, on the other hand, knew what was about to come next, and let out the slightest smile at the sight of Harry being taken away by Mcgonagall.

Chapter Text

02/09/1991

"Have you heard? Harry Potter's the new Gryffindor seeker! I always knew he'd do well!" the ghost of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington told another younger female ghost.

After charms class, you, Harry and Ron all walked side-by-side in the old courtyard, heading to the Great Hall. You all had big smiles stretched on your faces.

"Seeker? But first years never make their house teams! You must be the youngest Quidditch player in..." the redhead thought about it.

"A century, according to Mcgonagall," the boy next to you proudly specified.

"That's amazing! But doesn't it scare you?" you asked, slightly worried for him. You noticed how the Weasley twins, Fred and George, started following you three, walking next to you and Ron.

"I'm not scared," Harry replied with a small humoured huff, "I-"

"Hey, well done, Harry! Wood's just told us!" who you assumed was Fred said.

Fred seemed to have a straight nose whilst George had a bigger, rounder one. George also wore defined features and was slightly taller than his twin.

"Fred and George are on the team too. Beaters," the younger Weasley brother informed you and Harry.

"And our job is to make sure that YOU–" George started pointing to Harry, "–don't get bloodied up too bad!" he said with a smirk. "Can't make any promises, of course. Rough game, Quidditch."

"But no one's died in years!" Fred continued. "Someone will vanish occasionally–"

"–But they'll turn up in a month or two!" George yelled as you, Harry and Ron started crossing the courtyard whilst they continued down the halls, departing from your group.

Harry wore a very worried expression on his face. Your other friend noticed.

"Oh, go on, Harry. Quidditch is great! Best game there is, and you'll be great too!" the redhead encouraged.

"That's true," you commented. "I'm sure you'll do amazing, especially if Mcgonagall thought you were fit to play." Harry shot both of his friends a smile before speaking.

"But I've never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?" he asked, making a point.

"You won't make a fool out of yourself," said Hermione, who had just appeared impossibly close to you.

You yelped in surprise and turned around to face the girl, bumping into Harry in the process, who stabilised you.

"It's in your blood," the clever girl continued, ignoring all of your startled expressions. You all wore confused expressions until Hermione spoke again. "Here, let me show you," she added, attracting everyone's attention.

We all began following her in the school corridors until she stopped in front of a showcase filled with golden trophies. She looked at you with a smile after pointing to a specific badge in the glass. It read:

Seeker

JAMES POTTER

1970

"Harry, you never told me your father was a Seeker too!" Ron exclaimed, staring at the object with his face almost flat against the glass, eyes wide in wonder. Your eyes glittered upon the sight of the trophies and Harry was left almost speechless.

"I... didn't know," the black-haired boy replied. He gazed at the badge with some sort of longing in his eyes. What if he knew his dad? Would he be proud?

******************

You four were now all heading to the Great Hall through one of the multiple moving staircases of Hogwarts. Ron was especially hungry and you swear you could have heard your stomach grumble from a mile away.

"I'm telling you, it's spooky," Ron commented. "She knows more about you than you do."

"Who doesn't?" Harry replied in an obvious, yet comical voice.

"You know she's right behind us, don't y-" you started. The staircase under you suddenly started shifting positions, making all of you stumble and grab for the railing in an attempt to stabilise yourself. You grabbed onto the railing at your left and Ron, who certainly has bad instincts, grabbed your robe as a reflex, panicking.

"Ron, what are you doing!?" you yelped in surprise, feeling yourself be pulled to your side and stumbling.

"Sorry!" he replied, now having more balance and letting go. Harry, who was in front, turned to you while still holding on to the side of the staircase.

"What's happening!?" he asked, looking down the long hall and suddenly feeling a fear of height strike through him. Hermione, on the other hand, looked startled at first but quickly gained her composure.

"The staircases change, remember?" she said as if it was obvious.

"No, actually, I didn't remember," you said ironically with a slight scoff. Ron muttered a "well said", but Hermione looked at you with a faint look of hurt. "Sorry, sorry," you quickly added after glancing at her expression, placing your hand on her arm, and she sent you a soft smile.

The staircase had stopped moving and was now leading you towards a different door. You four looked everywhere hurriedly. "Let's go this way," Harry told you, already walking towards the door in front of you.

"Before the staircase moves again," the redhead added in a slightly irritated tone, brows furrowed. Your scarred friend opened the said door and you all followed.

This led you to a corridor that was dark all around. Milky spiderwebs clung to every corner of the place and there were sculptures of creatures you could not even call human littering the place. You began feeling cold and a shiver ran down your spine, making you hyperfocus on your surroundings.

"Does anyone feel like..." Ron gulped, "...we shouldn't be here?" We all slowly marched forward, taking in our creepy surroundings. Harry looked back at you and stopped for you to get beside him. When the opportunity came, he started reaching for your hand at a slow pace. You took notice of this and realised that he must be as scared as you, so you joined the tip of your hands, lightly and silently interlocking your fingers while Hermione spoke.

"We're not supposed to be here..." she replied with a twinge of worry in her voice. "This is the third floor, it's forbidden!" She sounded as if she had just noticed that.

WHOOSH!

Suddenly, a fire lit right next to you, making the four of you gasp and jump back. The grip of you and Harry's hand tightened and he put himself in front of all of you in a protective way.

"Let's go!" Harry demanded urgently. You all turned as quickly as possible only to be met with the sight of Filch's cat, Norris, out of the blue. Everyone recoiled in shock and the creature stared right back at you, meowing and its red eyes almost glowing.

"It's Filch's cat!" Alerted Hermione, now almost hyperventilating. They all started backing away until Harry broke your hand's grip, yelling.

"RUN!" he screamed. This was the last straw. You all bolted into the corridor, avoiding Filch's cat like the plague. You ran for what you thought was forever and Norris was out of view, but you all still went deeper in the corridor, almost like a rabbit hole. You were all just too scared. The further you ran, the colder you began to get. Standing torches gradually and magically lit up as you all raced somewhere safer.

"Quick! Let's hide through that door!" Harry yelled, pointing to a large, old wooden entrance. He reached it before any of you and began trying to pry it open, but his effort was in vain. He began aggressively trying to force it to move, but the door would not budge, making him panic even further.

"IT'S LOCKED!" he exclaimed, almost furious. Your heart hammered against your ribcage at an alarming rate and threatened to jump out of your body, making your eardrums beat as well. The redhead quickly looked back.

"That's it, we're done for...!" he said with that desperate look of his.

"Oh, move OVER!" Hermione butted in, irritated out of her mind and boosted on adrenaline. She shoved Harry on the side, pointed her want at the lock and confidently murmured: "Alohomora".

The door opened in a flash and you all felt relief flooding in your body, thanks to her. She kept the door open for the rest of you to fall through.

"Thank you!" you tried saying as you passed by her. Weasley, however, was nowhere near thanking her as she closed the door. He turned to her as we all slowly calmed ourselves.

"Alohomora?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"Standard book of spells, chapter 7," she replied hurriedly.

Ron started pressing his ear against the door to pick up any trace of Filch's presence. You assumed he heard the man as he suddenly tensed up, Hermione following suit and beginning to eavesdrop. You and Harry both looked at each other. You smiled at him.

"I think we're okay now," you stated.

Harry could honestly not understand how you could be smiling at a time like this, and he silently admired you for it. He could only stare at you as you began to grow slightly uncomfortable under his gaze.

"At least blink..." you thought, a feeling of worry setting in your stomach. You then looked at your left.

And you froze completely.

Your eyes widened and your breath hitched. Your hands found their way in front of your mouth, trying to minimise the noise coming out of you. You knew this was going to happen and yet, now that you were in the moment, you could not help but be terrified.

In front of you was the sleeping form of a huge creature. It bore features resembling the ones of a pitbull, except for the three heads hanging from its neck, all snoring silently. You saw that it was sleeping over the famous wooden trap door that led to the Sorcerer's Stone.

"Harry..." you said with a hoarse voice, your face scrunching in panic. The said boy blinked out of his trance and wore a worried look.

"What's wro-" cut himself off as he turned to look where your eyes landed. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, letting out a quiet gasp.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Ron were still talking.

"Filch is gone," the girl revealed, all traces of worry in her voice dissipating. The redhead's eyes wandered around the room. The ceiling, the walls, the place, everything but the real danger in front of him.

"Probably thinks this door is locked," he hypothesised. Hermione slightly glared at him.

"It was locked," she pushed with a hint of pride. The two began walking closer to you and Harry.

"And for a good reason," the black-haired boy stated, still staring at the animal in front of him. They both saw the beast and froze, fright cursing through their bodies as your heart began filling with turmoil.

And the creature stirred awake. Gasps and heavy breaths were heard from the four of you as the animal began opening its eyes. One of its three pairs of eyes laid on you, then another pair, and soon, all eyes were on your group. It let out a menacing growl, making shivers run down your spine. The three-headed dog rose to its feet, revealing its insane height, and you felt your knees go weak as you looked up at the beast, who looked at you as if you were its prey.

You, Harry, Hermione and Ron all let out ear-piercing screeches, causing the beast to become more agitated and bare its teeth, revealing long, sharp fangs. You all quickly turned around and got out of the room by where you came from. As you all got to the other side of the wooden door, one of the dog's heads popped from the doorframe, making it hard for Hermione and Ron to shut the door against it. You and Harry rushed in to help them and, eventually, you successfully shut the door, locking it right after. You gave yourself distance between you and the entrance, which began rattling as the creature banged against it. You all ran away, breaths heavy and boosted with adrenaline. Anxiety crashed through you like falls and you were unable to focus on anything, acting purely on instinct.

The castle was now pitch-black except for the weak lighting the torches around the school provided. It was cold and, as you made your way towards the moving staircases, you regained composure. Your friends seemed to feel the same, but Ron's stomach interrupted the silence as it growled loudly.

"How can you be hungry now?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded. It was as if he had not been scared to death about a minute ago, or that he did not care for it. The redhead was quick to reply with another snarky remark. Harry joined in, defending the other boy.

You stared at all of them and suddenly felt out of place. You could not help but remember that this is not your world, that you did not belong here, and that you were an intruder. It was like being a bee in a wasps' nest.

On the other hand, you also thought that what the three of them needed was someone they could rely on. Someone who will keep on seeing the positive side of things no matter what, because this is what they lack. You decided it would be better taking on that role than to dwell over things you can not change.

"Guys," you tried saying, but they kept talking over you, too focused on what they had to say. They began walking towards the Gryffindor dorms whilst talking, but the way to your dorm took a different path. You huffed and realised that there was no point in trying to get their attention. They were meant to be all together, not you.

As they went off, you turned another way and silently made your way towards your dorm. You doubted they were going to notice your absence anyways. Their voices became faint until you could not hear them at all.

As you made your way across the large kitchen, you heard the sound of rushed heels and whooshing coming from the entrance of the room. You panicked, thinking it was Filch, so you hid under one of the long tables. You knew the folk was a squib, meaning that he could not conjure a good light spell. He only had a small lantern, which made it easy for you to hide in the dark. The footsteps got closer to your spot and you finally got a look at who entered the place. Your eyes widened in horror.

Not far from glowed a faint light from a wand. You found it hard to take a good look at who it was, wandering in the castle this late. You backed away further under the table and your back hit a centre stretcher.

Creak

That was it. The light was now directed towards your spot and growing closer to you, and you knew you were done for.

You only had one option left: make a run for it.

Quickly, you got out of your spot and sprinted across the room towards the exit. The anonymous person heard you and began rushing after you. You looked back and could only see a faint light being followed by an ominous dark figure, making your bones quiver in fear. Soon enough, you heard the shadow yell:

"Petrificus totalus!"

And just with that, you knew who it was. You froze and promptly fell to the ground, facing the ceiling. After a few seconds, you were able to move on your own again, but you still felt slightly dizzy. You propped yourself up on your elbows and reluctantly looked up to see the figure get closer to you. The shadow was now only a few feet from you, looking down at your strained body. It made out your facial features and scowled in disgust. You saw its expression and an almost violent, almost painful pang of anxiety shot through you, lapidifying you. You did what you thought you would never do in this situation: you broke into a fearful smile and let out an awkward, hesitant laugh.

"Um– Hello, Professor...?"

Chapter Text

03/08/1991

You wanted to slap yourself into oblivion. How stupid could you have gotten? The words got out of you before you could do anything, and you instantly regretted them. And what has this led to? Detention on a friday afternoon. It was only Tuesday for the moment, but you were already dreading the moment.

After your little encounter with Snape, you were able to finally go back to your dorm, where your friends were still awake. Hannah and Susan both bombarded you with questions and you told them the entire story, from A to Z. You, despite your nervousness to do so, also told them about how you left out you felt when you hung out with the trio. The two girls were quick to comfort you.

"It's their loss if they can't see how good you are," said Hannah while rubbing your back.

"Yeah, she's right. But what really matters is that you're safe!" tried cheering Susan.

And just like that, you were glad to have friends like them. You truly felt acknowledged when you were with the girls, and it made you feel like you belonged.

"Maybe being sorted into Hufflepuff was a good thing, after all," you thought.

Today was a new day, though. You woke up and, soon enough, you were sitting in the Great Hall. You and your roommates made a habit of coming in early to enjoy a silent breakfast, which was always a good way to start the day.

Before class, you all headed towards the library. Susan had become fond of doing her homework the morning of, making her spend her mornings rushing to get through her books and parchments. Her procrastination had become so big that she would sometimes do her homework right before the class, which usually led to poor writing or incomprehensible penmanship. Meanwhile, Hannah simply enjoyed spending her mornings playing wizard's chess.

You, on the other hand, were planning something. You knew it was childish, but you were an eleven year old now. You could let yourself commit a few childish actions. You went out of your way to grab any book about Hogwarts, their professors and biographies of any kind, making a list of the staff's birthday dates.

As weird as it seemed, you genuinely thought that it could lighten someone's day to wish them a happy birthday, or anything nice in general. You thought that was the case because that was how you felt. Eventually, you were able to write a list with Mcgonagall's, Dumbledore's, Hagrid's, and, as much as he despised you, Snape's birthdays.

You also remembered that, when Harry would find the mirror of Erised, Dumbledore would reveal how all he had truly desired was a pair of fluffy, warm socks. You made a mental note to give him some anonymously.

All of that aside, it was time for your classes.

The first half of the day was normal, as you had History of Magic and Herbology. For the first period, you sat near Harry and his three friends. You noticed that he kept stealing glances at you for the entire hour and it made you uncomfortably shift on your seat. He did the same as you stood in Herbology, except that Ron and Hermione had joined in. You felt seriously eyeballed and did your best to divert your attention from them to your Herbology partner: Neville.

Professor Sprout had announced a project that required everyone to pick a plant, grow it, and make a five parchment-long research on it. As everyone began making partners, you quickly rushed over to Neville, who looked as lost as a bee in the sea. You were lucky that every house attended the same classes, as you knew about his prowess in the subject. You, too, had grown knowledgeable because of your constant gardening with your father. Nonetheless, as flustered as he was to your request, he was very happy to have someone.

"Thank you for wanting to be my partner."

"I'll work hard."

"I can do it all, if you want..."

"Thank you."

"I'm happy that we're together, y'know..."

"I forgot to say thank you."

Neville rambled, and you honestly found it endearing. You were happy to have a kind, but also competent partner for the project. The rest of the class was for you two to pick a herb, and begin planting it. Neville seemed to be shy, so you took the reins.

"It's better if we go with a plant that grows well during fall, since we're nearing that time," you said. It was true: The air became cooler and the summer was coming to an end.

"Yes, but what plant could we also write 5 parchments about?" Neville asked, beginning to feel anxious. Poor boy...

"Well maybe–" you started.

"I was thinking–" Neville said at the same time. He quickly caught himself with a pink hue on his chubby cheeks. "Oh sorry, you can go," he gestured for you to continue speaking.

"No, no," you told him with an encouraging smile. "I'd rather hear what you think." Neville paused and his eyes landed on yours. His anxiety slowly dissipated as he gazed at your smile as you radiated a comforting energy. He swallowed his saliva and looked down at his hands.

"Well, I thought that maybe we could go with something like Pennyroyal?" He asked more than suggested. He was almost ready to explain to you what it was until you beamed at him.

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" you laughed. "Yeah, let's go with that. Sure, it grows well, but it's also medicinal so we can write about what it does, how to apply it, all of that. Just this and it could add an easy two pages to the project."

Neville stared at you with his eyes practically gleaming and his mouth ajar. You took a moment as well, looking at him. His unresponsive state worried you slightly.

"Neville...?" you called.

"Oh, yeah!" he exclaimed as he snapped out of his train of thoughts.

You both began getting the seeds from Sprout's storage, where multiple students were doing the same thing, and set everything up at you and Neville's station. You both helped each other plant the herb, but the whole time, you could not help but feel a pair of eyes pierce through your skull. You looked up to see Ron, his eyes glued to you. You smiled at him and moved on to your project, leaving the redhead, eyebrows furrowed and nose slightly scrunching, confused as to why you smiled at him.

The rest of the day was normal, almost dull, which was something you never expected from Hogwarts. The golden trio had not stopped stealing glances at you and it began seriously bothering you. Luckily, you had Hannah and Susan to lighten up the atmosphere.

All was normal until, right before dinner, you and Hannah needed to go to the bathroom, leaving Susan behind. You came back from the washroom before Hannah and, as you were looking for your friend, you heard something strange.

"Yeah, that'll teach her, filthy Hufflepuff!" you heard a voice cry, followed by shuffling and someone else's strong yelp. The same voice spoke up again, "LEVICORPUS!" and a roar of laughter followed.

You knew something was wrong and, before you knew it, you rushed towards the commotion. Cutting the corner of the hallways, you were greeted by a god-awful sight.

Susan, who wore a panicked expression while being surrounded by Malfoy's goons, dangled upside-down in mid-air, lightly swinging in every direction. Her face got redder by the second from the blood flow and, by now. You instantly pointed your wand at her. "Liberacorpus!" you rushed out.

Susan's body hit the floor and you recoiled slightly, wincing. You felt bad, but it was for the best. She and the Slytherins quickly turned to look at the intruder. Malfoy was the first to speak up.

"Hey!" he yelled, irritated. Then, after a slight pause of realisation, he recognised your familiar face. "Hey, I know you," he said, pointing at you, "You're Harry's little lover!" Everyone laughed at his "joke" and you could not help but feel anger rising in you. You breathed slowly, gaining your composure.

"Leave her alone," you firmly demanded, clutching your wand in your hand. Malfoy looked at his friends with a smile, chuckling, before looking back at you.

"You again?" he asked, walking towards you slowly with an arrogant aura. "HYou became a Hufflepuff... What a shame," he spat, displaying a face of disgust mixed with amusement. "Oooo"s and laughs were heard from behind him and, as you looked behind him, you saw Crabbe and Goyle beginning to take Susan from her arms, making her kneel while still holding her wrists.

Malfoy looked back at them again, then at you. Your eyes widened at the sight of her and your heartbeat quickened. You gazed around and you only saw a few students circling you along with Hannah, who was clutching her books, hand to her mouth. You glanced back at the blond boy and you thought that if nobody did anything, you would have to take the reins. The boy, grinning, was about to walk to Susan until you spoke up.

"Muggle-borns are better anyways," you spoke without thinking.

Everyone went silent and Malfoy's face fell.

More students began crowding around you and the Slytherin turned towards you after a long pause, striding inches from you.

"What did you just say?"

"I... You heard me."

There was another long, silent pause, where Draco could do nothing except contort his face into one of absolute incredulity.

"How–" he started.

"Their wits," you cut him off. At that point, you were completely bluffing and, if it was not for your robe, anyone could have seen your legs shaking. Every kind of student around laughed at your claim, everyone except other Hufflepuffs.

By then, Draco was red from embarrassment. He would not let himself be talked to that way in front of a whole crowd. He quickly brought his wand up to you and your eyes widened. Before you thought about doing anything, you looked to the side and, as a reflex, you pointed behind him.

"Dumbledore!" you exclaimed.

Everyone's faces drooped and looked where you pointed, including Malfoy. You had a sudden memory lapse of any incantation, and it frustrated you in the moment, so you took the opportunity of the distracted people all around you. If you know one thing about magically-raised people, it is that they are nothing without their wands.

You may not be able to duel like other wizards your age, but there is something Muggle-borns have an advantage on...

And that "something" is fighting.

You took a swing with your dominant arm and, as Draco realised you bluffed, he turned around just in time for your first to collide perfectly with his eye.

CRACK!

The deafening sound of your first colliding with his face was enough to make everyone around go haywire. Yells of both encouragement and displeasure from the growing crowd boomed across the entire hall, leaving the blond and his friends utterly embarrassed amidst the pandemonium. You looked over to see Susan free from the grasp of the two boys, rushing to join Hannah in the crowd. However, everything became quiet and small heels tapping against the floor resonated across the corridor. Your heart stopped.

You recognized that heel too well.

And as deducted, there was a long figure with a cloak that could cover an entire continent. You knew this would lead to nasty consequences, but with Snape looking down at you with an absolute irate expression, this could only mean one thing:

You were in trouble.

Chapter Text

03/08/1991

It has been 30 minutes.

You were hungry, and your fingers strummed against Professor Sprout's desk while your heel tapped mercilessly against the floor.

You found yourself once again in a pitiful situation. The last two days have been a complete disaster and now, instead of being stuck having detention with Snape, you were held to much larger consequences. Wandering late at night and punching a student on the first week of school was not the brightest idea, but nothing you could have done then would have changed the outcome.

Silence filled the void that was your mind. You felt like you were in a white room, doomed and desperately trying to get out, only to be held back by chains. When you stumbled upon this world, you were terrified. Then, you began feeling powerful. You thought that, because you knew the future, nothing could get past you. You knew everything and everyone, so naturally you were immune to unpredictability. You could not have been further from the truth.

"Wrong", you kept telling yourself. "Wrong, wrong, wrong."

The door opened behind you and made a large creaking noise. You turned around, your heart starting to jump in every direction. Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff, waltzed in front of you along with Professor Snape and Mcgonagall.

You sat in front of Sprout's desk, which was littered with mountains of herbs, and the three adults stood across you. Mcgonagall gave you a disappointed look while Sprout looked at you pensively. Snape's eyes, on the other hand, shot you daggers mercilessly.

"Do you know why you're here?" asked Sprout. It was obvious, and yet, you did not want to answer. With everything that had happened during the first week of school, you should have been expelled on-the-spot. You knew about Hogwarts' strict policy, and you were about to fall victim to it. You could not bring yourself to see anything, so you looked down in front of the three imposing adults.

"First day: caught wandering late at night. Second day: attacking a student in the Muggle way," Snape said, making your eyes divert to him. He held hatred in his eyes and pure disgust, and you could only furrow your eyebrows at him. They all kept silent, waiting for you to say something for yourself.

"I... I'm sorry," you finally said. Mcgonagall straightened her posture. "But–"

"No buts," Snape spat, leaning on the desk and earning a critical look from the two women beside him.

"Do not fret," Sprout called your name politely, her voice ringing in the room like sweet chimes as she put a hand on Snape's shoulder. "You still have a chance to redeem yourself." You visibly relaxed at this, your shoulders slumping and your muscles decontracting. "However, you need to acknowledge that your behaviour has been inadequate, and that further misconduct will result in expulsion."

Your heart dropped, but you nodded nonetheless. "Yes, ma'am," you said.

"And you will have a month of detention with me," Snape snarled, looking down at you as if you were a rat.

******************

You walked to find Susan and Hannah in your dorm. Their eyes widened and the redhead ran to you, jumping on you and wrapping her arms around your frame.

"Thank you!" she almost screamed, followed by Hannah giving you an embrace as well.

You yelped, "Woah, what is this for?"

"For literally saving my life, there," Susan said in genuine gratitude. You hesitantly rested your hands on the girls' backs, awkwardly patting them.

"It's true," Hannah jumped in, breaking out of the hug, "You were 'mazing back there. I mean, d'you see Malfoy's face?" she laughed, followed by you and the freckled girl, who followed the blonde.

"I mean as much as I enjoyed it, I got some nasty consequences–" you started. Both girls looked at you, guilt replacing their features.

"What?" the chubby girl blurted.

"–but it was worth it!" you tried reassuring, resting your hand on her shoulders. "It really was, don't worry about me," you said, going over to your wardrobe.

"What happened? You're not getting expelled or anything, right?" Hannah asked, her eyebrows furrowing while she slumped on your bed, Susan doing the same.

"No! Absolutely not!" you laughed, picking out your pyjamas. "It's fine, I swear," you said, too exhausted to continue. You shot them a comforting smile. "I'm tired, though. We can talk about it later?"

Your two friends groaned and intentionally sprawled further on your bed. You rolled your eyes at them and changed behind a dressing screen.

"It's too early!" you heard Hannah complain, followed with a hum of agreement from the other girl.

"Oh stop it," you began. Done changing, you faced them. They glanced up at you and, before they could react, you threw a pillow at them.

"MOVE!" you yelled, laughing. The blonde yelped and Susan gasped, her hair flying in every direction possible.

And soon enough, a pillow fight ensued, leaving everyone breathless on their own bed.

"...Goodnight," Susan tried saying, only for you to giggle again. The blonde girl across the large room from you joined in the laughter.

"No, seriously, we need to– we need to sleep," the redhead tried to reason with you both, only to break out laughing again. You all continued talking about everything and nothing for another half hour, making it past 11:00 p.m.

"Hold on, you all listen to Muggle music, right?" Susan asked. This greatly attracted you and Hannah's attention.

"Merlin, I've been dying f'someone to ask this!" the blue-eyed girl groaned. "But really, who listens t'wizard music for fun?" she said with disgust.

"Wizard music is a thing?" you questioned, curiosity morphing on your face.

"It's awful," the girl on your left said, tucking in deeper in her bed. "Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl."

"You don't know wizard music?" Hannah asked. It was dark and you could not see her, but you knew she directed her question towards you.

"No..."

"Lucky," she just said.

Eventually, the two girls fell asleep, leaving only you awake. You stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

It seemed like the whole world was against you being here, in Hogwarts, and honestly, you understood. You missed your family, your friends, and just people around you. Back in your universe, everything seemed to be working in harmony. You even began missing the people you hated, making you wince. In all seriousness, you knew you did not belong here. From Hermione, Ron and Harry ignoring you after meeting the Three-Headed dog, to almost getting expelled, you felt like you were an extra pawn on a chess board.

On the other hand, you also had two very good friends in the room with you, ready to support you no matter what. You might even have Neville, who had proved himself to be an extremely sweet boy. The trio gave you mixed feelings, though.

On that, you finally enjoyed a dreamless sleep.

******************

04/08/1991

The first thing you did as you arrived at the library with your girl friends was check your schedule, only to find something you dreaded written in big, bold letters:

9:00 a.m. - 10:20 a.m.: potions

10:30 a.m. - 11:50 a.m.: potions

You wanted to jump off the astronomy tower.

You enjoyed your last moments alive and well with your friends, until you finally sat on a cold, hard stool in front of a cauldron. It was nearing 9:00 a.m. and everyone was sitting patiently, waiting for the professor's arrival. Hannah, Susan and you respectively sat next to each other.

You felt something shift beside you and you glanced towards your left, only to see Harry and Ron sitting on the stools next to yours. They turned to each other, nodded, then you. Harry said your name, then continued.

"We're um..." he looked once again towards Ron, then you. "We're really sorry."

You furrowed your brows as you stared at the boys, guilt dripping from their faces. "For what?" you asked, earning a "huh?" from both of them.

"We left you alone that night! The night when we, y'know–" Ron said, approaching you and looking around him to make sure no one listened. "–when we found that dog..."

Thoughts swirled around your head, but your reflex took over.

"It's okay," you smiled at them, leaving them flabbergasted at your quick acceptance. "I understand you were all startled, so I'm not mad or anything. I mean, of course a quick 'goodnight' would have been nice, but it's fine, it can happen."

The boys simultaneously sighed in relief, the corners of their lips tugging up. Harry impulsively grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thank you," he said.

"But there's something you should know," you revealed, leaning towards the boys. They both leaned towards you too, creating a slightly intimate feeling between you three. "Snape caught me in the halls at night."

Harry winced and let go of your hand while Ron gasped, grasping the table in front of him.

"What'd he do, then?" Ron asked, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

"He might've put me in detention..."

"What?" Both boys exclaimed, earning a shush from you.

"He only gave me a day in detention for it," you said, but the duo was still worried. "But did you-"

You were cut off by Snape entering the classroom. His cloak wooshed behind him as the boys straightened up on their seats. The man stood in front of the classroom and analysed every one of you, until his eyes landed on you. He squinted and you shifted uncomfortably.

"The Wiggenweld potion..." he started, his voice as monotonous as ever. "...page 41, is the most rudimentary healing potion. A house-elf could make one... it would be a shame–" he stared at you, "–for it to go wrong..." He took a scroll on his desk and unrolled it. "I will be naming your teams of two and your station number." He went through a whole lot of names. Hannah and Susan were lucky to be together, but Ron and Harry were separated, Ron worked with Neville whilst Harry worked with Lavender Brown. Strangely, but obviously, every Slytherin was paired with their friends. Draco with Pansy, Crabbe with Goyle, and even Nott with Zambini. You, on the other hand, were stuck with–

"–Wayne Hopkins, station 8"

...Who?

You walked over to station 8 with your goggles, your gloves and your textbook. You looked at the table to find everything you needed for the potion. Your partner came up to you.

"He doesn't look too bad..." you thought.

He had black curly hair that was slightly longer than the average male and wore the Hufflepuff emblem on his robe. He was slightly taller than you and pretty skinny, but he held an innocence to his eyes.

"Hi," he greeted shyly, obviously struggling with putting his goggles on. You looked at him up and down before glancing at Snape, who offered a sneer. You turned back to your partner, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Um– let me help," you said, grabbing his goggles and putting it around his head, going behind him to try and adjust the strings. Most teams had already started working on the potions and you were still struggling. Eventually, you got it to fit.

"I'm really sorry, I'm really sorry," the boy kept mumbling, which made you pat his back.

"It's okay, it's okay," you repeated all the time, trying to just get on with the potion.

You two began working the potion, pouring Horklump juice in the cauldron and bringing it to a light steam. As your partner stirred the potion whilst you read through the instructions, you could not help but think that this was similar to cooking. The process was almost identical.

You could hear Snape's voice flow across the room as he inspected other students' work, never missing an opportunity to diss their work.

"We are concocting Wiggenweld, not Draught of the Living Death."

"This looks like my grandmother's stew."

"Fantastic work, Mr. Malfoy."

He then stopped next to the team in front of you, which was made up of a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor student. The Gryffindor boy was cutting up Dittany leaves with precision.

"...Do you happen to be left-handed, Mr Finnigan?" Snape questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"N-no sir," the boy began sweating.

"Then explain why you are cutting with your left hand... Use your right," he snapped.

"Yes, professor," he gulped.

"Might as well start using your head," the man concluded.

As Snape strode over to you, you added the Dittany leaves in the cauldron, turning the potion purple. Then, your partner suddenly added more.

"You left some on the table," he said.

You visibly paled and your breath stopped. They were waste leaves.

The mix began to bubble violently and sending splashes everywhere, making you and the people near your station back away in a hurry. Small yells were heard across the room and the drink became fizzy and sent small fireworks everywhere, making students hide under their desks. Snape quickly pointed his wand at the cauldron and all traces of liquid disappeared. People began standing, murmuring and looking at your team while you looked down in shame.

You felt a bit of resentment towards your teammate bubbling in your stomach while he seemed as if he was almost hyperventilating. You looked up at your professor who stared at your cauldron, reminiscing about everything that just happened. He puffed his cheeks and let out a slow sigh through his mouth, raising his eyebrows in disappointment. He shook his head and continued along the stations, watching students who had already begun working on their potions again.

"Why did I expect more from them..." he asked himself.

And you heard every bit of it.

A pit of sadness formed in you and your shoulders dropped as you leaned on your table, hands supporting you on either side of you. You glanced at your partner, who looked ten times more disappointed.

"I'm so sorry," was the only sentence he seemed to know. You gave in and felt slight sympathy for the boy: he truly did not have bad intentions.

"Don't worry, we'll do better on the next one," you smiled, but your eyes betrayed your look. You sighed.

The rest of the class was nothing short from boring. Your partner was still sulking, and when your class was dismissed, you tried to talk to him. However, the black-haired boy simply ran away.

"What...?" you wondered out loud, questioning yourself as to why the boy simply ran– no, sprinted away from you.

"Don't worry about Hopkins, he's always like that," a voice popped next to you. You jumped and looked next to you to find a tall boy with dark brown hair gently parted to the side. He had dark blue eyes and, for his age, his facial structure was strong.

"Oh," you said casually. "You're Nott, right?"

"Yes, I am. And about little Hopkins," he started, getting closer. "He's just a little barmy. He acts as if he'll be skinned if he doesn't attend his next class on time."

"But... It's lunch."

"Like I said, barmy," he chuckled. "You already know me, but you can call me Theodore," he extended his hand for a shake. It caught you off guard, but you shook it nonetheless. You told him your name.

"Yeah, love the accent. Actually, I'm just waiting for my mate Zambini over there–" he pointed towards his dark-skinned friend, who was talking to Snape at his desk. "–real sucker for grades, he is."

"I've seen him a couple of times," you admitted. "He's real strong in potions."

"Easy for you to say," he laughed. This made him earn a frown from you, so he corrected himself. "Meant that the thing you did earlier– that was gnarly, in all honesty."

All you could wonder was why he was talking to you. You had asked for nothing and Ron, Harry, Susan and Hannah were all waiting for you near the entrance. They began conversing with each other, asking what you were doing.

"Listen, I really have to go, but it was nice meeting you," you shot him a smile that he reciprocated. He watched you as you took your books and followed your friends.

"What did he want?" Ron urged on you. You simply shrugged.

Chapter Text

04/08/1991

You do not know how you got there. An hour ago, you were in the library, completing your Herbology assignment along with Neville, who kept blushing as you praised his knowledge. Eventually, as you both finished your research, thoughts swirled in your mind. The clock had struck 7 p.m., and the castle began to darken, only being illuminated by candles and torches. You departed from Longbottom, giving him a wave, and headed straight to the second-floor girl's lavatory. Curiosity got the best of you and you wondered if it was possible to get on Myrtle's good side.

You entered the lavatory, regret flooding through you and a gush of cold wind hitting you. The room looked deserted and littered with spider webs. You expected the room to be some sort of faint blue light like in the movies, but instead, the chamber was all grey, almost black. You closed the door behind you and headed towards the fountain until you heard her voice.

"This bathroom is closed! Go away!" she cried. Your heart jumped and you whipped your head towards the noise. There she was: Moaning Myrtle. She looked even skinnier and paler now that you saw her in person and she looked almost transparent.

"You're Myrtle Warren..." you almost whispered, your eyes widening ever so slightly. Her face blew into one of full surprise.

"Yes! It's not hard to call me by my name!" she admitted as she flew fast to match your height. "It's Myrtle, not Mooaaning Myrtle!" she cried, dragging out her words. She sighed exasperatedly as she flew up once again, now resting on top of a bathroom stall.

"Oh, well, my name's–"

"I'm not a tourist attraction!" she cried, offended. "SO SHOO!" she demanded before placing her hands in front of her face and crying into them. "I'm nothing but a joke, here!" Her sobs filled the entire room and, although it was slightly annoying, you wanted to comfort her.

"Oh, Myrtle, that's not it!" you said, getting closer to her. "I never meant it in a bad way, I'm sorry! I just wanted to get to know you..." you said the last part hesitantly. Her sobs came to a halt and she lowered her hands to look at you. A second passed before she broke out of her trance, furrowing her eyebrows and her features displaying fury.

"GO AWAY!" she screamed, making you jump and scramble out of the room, yelling a quick "sorry!" before closing the door behind you.

You stepped where you did not belong.

Your heart calmed down as you walked towards your dormitory. You were just getting your astronomy equipment before heading towards the library once again. You honestly had no clue as to why you had astronomy work whilst also having no astronomy classes.

By this point, the only people seen wandering the halls were first years and prefects. You got a glimpse of the Weasley twins running and giggling, but you diverted your attention from them. Arriving at the library, the room was almost pitch black. Desk stations had small lanterns, providing the faintest of lights for students, and it reeked the smell of used books. You were about to pick up an astrology book for some advanced reading until you heard loud murmurs.

"That's nonsense! Why don't we get Hermione to do it?" you heard a familiar voice whine.

You peeked in between the bookshelves to catch a glimpse at the voice, but the lack of light made it hard for you to see. However, you did notice one thing.

Two boys, one redhead and one with messy, black hair. You smiled to yourself, picking up a book before heading towards them.

"Why, you wanted this plant!" Harry exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger towards Ron, who gasped dramatically. This earned a loud shush from the librarian.

"You should know better than to trust me on this! I– Oh hey," he said, interrupting himself as he noticed you walk towards them, astrology books and scrolls pre-filled with sketches under your arms. Papers and books were scattered everywhere on the desk and a large, empty parchment rested between the two boys who sat across each other.

"What are you two yelling about?" you whispered, sitting down next to Ron and putting your equipment on the desk.

"Harry here–" Ron started, only to stop talking as you put a finger in front of your mouth, motioning him to be quieter.

The redhead leaned towards you and Harry and began speaking once again. "Harry–"

"We," Harry corrected.

"Alright," Ron admitted, rolling his eyes. He diverted his attention to you again. "We thought it would be a good idea to choose to do the Herbology project on the apple." The two boys awaited a negative reaction from you or maybe even a laugh, only to be staring at your stoic face.

"...so?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing, your hands raising from the table in indifference.

"'So?'" Harry mimicked. "We're doomed on this one," he admitted, sighing and leaning back on his chair as you hummed.

"No, you're not," you smiled. The duo looked at you with a glimmer of hope in their eyes. They suddenly leaned towards you, making you jump back slightly, listening. You cleared your throat. "Apples grow well in September and October, that's true. They have a ton of health benefits and they are everywhere in the Witchcraft world and Muggle world. From Adam and Eve to Snow White, they're present and mean tens of thousands of different things," you rambled.

Ron, who had tried his best to catch up to what you've said, blinked. "From Adam and Eevee to what? Who are those people?" Ron asked, earning a laugh from Harry. The redhead slapped the boy's shoulder. "Not funny!" he glared.

You sighed, a smile making its way on your face. "I'll help you."

The remaining of your time before Astrology was spent in the library, helping the two poor boys. They were more than desperate for someone to lend them a hand, and you gladly filled that role. Over time, they grew tired and Ron could not go one minute without yawning.

"Listen..." Ron started, looking at you between his eyelashes in hesitation. "Is it true that you punched Malfoy?"

Harry kicked Ron's leg under the table, earning a yelp from the redhead. You watched the scene, eyes wide, before giggling under your breath.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, a hint of pride in your voice. Generally, you did not like hurting people, but for the sake of Susan, you were proud you stepped up for her. You not only gained popularity, but trust and respect. Harry's eyes twinkled and Ron looked as if he would burst out laughing at any moment.

Your time was cut short with you noticing the time on the wall next to you. It read:

11:45

You all exchanged panicked stares and quickly got up, gathering your things. You had no clue where the Astrology tower was and it made your heartbeat quicken. Your fingers got colder as you wandered in the dark, almost blue halls. Finally, you met Sir Nicolas, who was more than happy to lead the way to the Astrology tower.

You all arrived on time, panting for air. Ron was as red as his hair and Harry had some hair strands sticking to his forehead. You, on the other hand, had your robe hanging to your elbows and your parchments were held through all of your fingers in a messy way. The amount of stairs you had to climb was gnarly, and even Ron had to go on all fours to mount it successfully, which earned a troubled look from both you and Harry.

The teacher was not there yet, but many students stared at you three in a judging way. You leaned on the railing of the tower.

It was beautiful...

Your eyes captured the glimpses of lights across the sky and your mouth hung slightly open. Pools of constellations drew themselves before you as if it was all a show, their show, and you were their audience. They were majestic and inviting, as if they wanted you to join their dance.

Ron and Harry made their way towards a telescope before you heard heels tapping against the solid ground. Slowly, a pointy hat could be seen and soon, a woman wearing a long, golden robe appeared from the stairs. She wore a very long braid and her face was delicate, holding the most feminine features. She held herself in a strong posture and her brown skin looked like gold under the light of the scattered lanterns across the tower's walls.

"Welcome..." she started, her voice ringing like chimes, "to your first Astronomy lesson," she said. She intertwined her hands in front of her and rested then on the robe. "I compel myself to be frank; you are new, which implies that we will not be diving deep in my subject today." She looked around, recognizing some faces. Her eyes landed on you for a split second and your heart quickened. Her eyes were as dark as the sky above you, and it made you feel as if you were staring at the same void.

Finally, she asked you to get with an assigned partner and draw every visible constellation from the pre-required assignment. Susan was paired with Hopkins and you shot her a sympathetic smile. She looked at you and Hannah with a "help me" look, which earned a laugh from both of you. Eventually, she said your name.

"–and Nott, Theodore," she said, continuing to list names.

You were not against the idea of having him as a partner. You looked around and found him standing next to a telescope on his own, waving slightly at you and shooting you a grin. You felt welcomed and reciprocated his actions, getting closer to him. You started speaking.

"Hey!"

"What's with all the energy?" he joked, then broke in a yawn, which he hid behind his forearm.

"Why so tired?" you snapped back.

You both got started on your work and clicked fast. Turns out, for a Slytherin, he was awfully nice.

"So you hit Malfoy, eh?" he said in a teasing tone. You instantly stood straighter, shivering slightly as a gust of wind hit you. You knew Draco was probably his friend, so you should show some sort of remorse.

"Listen, it was an acciden–"

"So you did it," he cut you off, leaning on the tower's railing as you stood in front of the microscope. Your team's parchment was on the ground and other teams spoke loudly enough to drown your conversation in the noise, sheltering you from other students eavesdropping

"...Yes," you finally admitted, anxiety creeping in you. You looked down.

There was a slight pause and the wind blew, making Theodore's hair uncover his face. You could now see his eyes properly, and they held no anger or resentment.

And he laughed.

"Really?!" he said, the corners of his lips tugging up. He finally broke into a full, toothy smile and his eyes twinkled. He leaned forward and grabbed onto the railing while laughing which, eventually, made you start chuckling from his contagious giggles. "That's great!"

"Is it?" you asked, still confused.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, raising himself to stand in front of you, no longer clutching the railing. He looked at your face, devoid of regret. "So it wasn't an accident," he stated, analysing you.

"What d'you mean?"

"You said it was an accident, punching Malfoy."

"...I might've lied," you said, earning another chuckle from him. This made you smile again.

Another pause.

"It's a good thing," he admitted. Your heart melted at the praise, and you felt another surge of pride. "Malfoy desperately needs his ass handed back to him." The language caught you off guard, instantly wiping your grin off your face, replacing it with wide eyes. Theodore noticed and smiled. "Let's hang out, for real," he said.

You hesitated. Your heart leaned towards growing closer to him, but you were still wary of him. He was never formally introduced in the movies, so he would be unpredictable, but alternatively, that was what made him evermore interesting.

"Because I punched Malfoy? Is that your only reason?" you asked, half joking and half curious.

Theodore was taken aback, but hid his surprise behind a sturdy wall of composure. He hesitated before speaking.

"I heard you had a knack for Herbology–"

You groaned hearing this, tilting your head, acting as if the Slytherin had just asked the worst from you.

"No, seriously, I need it! Blaise–" he looked around before leaning towards you, whispering, "–Blaise sucks at it, please!" he begged. "I know Neville's a good partner, but I'll prove myself to you!"

You looked at him, and eventually, you cracked a smile. He noticed and knew he won you over.

"Alright..." you said. "Next project. Me and you," you stated, earning twilights in the boy's eyes. "But you be my partner in potions, please. I can't handle Hopkins!" you pleaded at your turn, looking over your shoulder at the said boy, who was fumbling with his telescope as Susan looked in it, hitting her eye. You winced and Theodore followed your gaze, mirroring your expression.

"I get it..." he said, a wave of compassion cursing through him. "Deal," he extended his hand. You felt joy, excitement and curiosity spark through you as you shook his hand.

The rest of the next hour was drowned in students' yawns and tired scribbles. Theodore was slightly irritated at the fact that you knew more constellations than him despite the fact that he had studied some during summer, but he let it slide as a joke. Your parents' pressure for you to study and succeed in school was not something you anticipated, but it was certainly rewarding.

Finally, it was the end of your class and you were heading to your dorm. You found out that, to compensate for the lack of sleep students got from astronomy class, they had their first class off, and the time for breakfast extended itself. You were more than happy to hear the news. As you were heading to your dorm, a familiar voice stopped you, calling out your name.

Harry ran towards you and stopped when he was at a talking distance, resting his hands on his knees. "Wanna– huff– Wanna hang out this weekend? I got myself a broom, maybe we can try it–" he asked out of the blue. The Hufflepuff group was starting to get further from you, so you shot him a "For sure!" as you ran towards the rest of the group, not wanting to be left alone. Harry looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he had his own dorm to go to.

Usually, you, Susan and Hannah talked before bed. But today, you all could not help but slump in your beds, letting dreams engulf you like a velvet blanket.

Chapter Text

31/10/1991

Potions class.

You dreaded it. You dreaded Snape. You always found a way to make a fool out of yourself in his class and it seriously started to irritate you. You could still remember the detention you had with him a month ago, and it terrified you. He seemed to find a wicked pleasure in making you write "I will not stay past curfew nor hurt other students" 100 times. Then, when you were done, he added another hundred to do. Then another. And then another one.

And there you were, sitting on an uncomfortable stool next to Hermione and your roommates. Harry and Ron sat behind you and you noticed the harsh difference between students from Slytherin compared to other houses. The Slytherins talked as if class was not about to start in a matter of seconds whilst everyone else stood as still as an image, quills hovering above their notebooks, ready to start scribbling. Surprisingly, Snape seemed to love to start every one of his classes by barging in the room and spilling information for you to write down frantically. In front of you snickered Blaise not-so-subtly as Nott whispered something in his ear, making you sigh. The clock was ticking and Hermione's leg began bouncing off the ground fast.

Three... Two... One–

CLANK!

"Everyone, head to your stations immediately," the Devil himself said in his signature monotone voice, making everybody including you put your quills down and scramble to get your equipment and textbooks. You made eye contact with Nott and he motioned for you to come over. The cloaked man noticed the interaction and quickly put an arm in front of you, stopping you dead in your tracks. He glared at you before speaking up. "Page 12, I want you all to make me an antidote for common poisons..."

"...individually."

Your eyes widened and so did Theodore's. Snape looked down at you in an imposing stand, expecting to see your crushed expression, wanting to see your helpless eyes. He could have bet galleons that you would have tainted Nott's project. He smirked to himself only for his grin to be wiped off his face as soon as your lips formed a ghost of a smile, showing no disdain. He watched you skedaddle off to the nearest available station, picking up the right ingredients on the way.

Your station was far from Theodore's, but still facing his. You looked over to his place to see him already staring at you and shot him a reassuring smile, to say "I'm okay". He frowned, but you did not pay much attention to it. You opened your textbook.

Ingredients:

1 Bezoar

2 measures of Standard ingredient

1 pinch of powdered unicorn horn

2 mistletoe berries

Instructions:

Add 1 Bezoar to the mortar

Crush into a very fine powder using the pestle

Add 4 measures of the crushed Bezoar to your cauldron

Add 2 measures of Standard ingredient to your cauldron

Heat to a medium temperature for 5 seconds

Wave your wand

Leave to brew and return in 40 minutes with pewter cauldron, 34 minutes with brass cauldron and 30 minutes with copper cauldron

Add 1 pinch of powdered unicorn horn to your cauldron

Stir 2 times, clockwise

Add 2 mistletoe berries to your cauldron

Stir 2 times, counter-clockwise

Wave your wand to complete the potion

Your mind cleared itself and you flowed in a diligent state. After gathering ingredients in the dark-lit room, you could see everyone you knew struggle by themselves except Hermione as you took out your mortar and followed the first two steps. Ron started crushing his Bezoar but, in vain, his pestle kept sliding away, unable to properly shred it. Harry kept stealing glances at Ron as he worked. He had less trouble, but his cooking was just sad. Hermione, Hannah and Susan worked silently, all too concentrated to look around. Nott looked unbothered, his head slightly tilted to the side as he crushed the ingredient. His mouth pouted and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Neville, poor Neville, could not help but grab the wrong ingredients. First step in and his station already reassembled Professor Sprout's desk: messy and filled with useless junk.

You could feel Snape's gaze swing between you and Malfoy. His face melted in one of pride as he looked over the blonde's work. "Fine technique", you even heard the man say to the younger boy. You huffed as you followed each step, feeling a competitive air wash over you. You needed to prove yourself, to make people know you were not useless, to be better.

People were still waiting for their potions to brew as you began adding the powder. Some students' potions became a different shade, some bubbled harshly and others even sparkled. During this time, light whispering amongst students was allowed. Snape felt movement from your station and his eyebrows furrowed in an ugly expression. His eyes landed on you adding mistletoe berries to your concoction and, in a light woosh, marched towards you in long strides. You saw his form approach and, if you did not feel pressured before, you definitely felt it now. Your heart jumped in your chest, almost dropping your wooden spoon in the green liquid. His voice boomed in the room.

"And what are you doing?" he questioned, looking down at you with a sense of superiority. He looked over at your potion and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm..." you could not say what you were doing, you did not know. With one wand motion, you would be done, and so you did. "...done," you finished.

The tall man looked at your potion, then you. Your potion was, in your words, nothing short of perfect: the green shade matched perfectly with the description in your book and it did not bubble much. Your station was kept clear, as instructed in previous classes, and you wore your equipment to the book. You did not stain, clutter, nor disturb. You were proud, yes, but could not meet his gaze. Other students had been starting to add the powder to their potions and you were done.

"You... I'm aghast at the fact that you did not fulminate the entire school," Snape started, his often monotone voice becoming significantly lighter, but still snarky. He marked a pause and Hermione glanced your way, curious. Snape huffed quietly. "Everyone!" he called out, making you jump. He approached your potion and drew his wand. Your stomach twisted in dread, waiting for him to do something, anything, that will humiliate you. "Subsequent to my verification, I request you to clear your station and potion, following me," he said. He pointed his wand towards my potion and yelled loud enough for everyone to hear clearly:

"Scourgify!"

Your potion suddenly vanished, leaving no trace of it in your previously full cauldron. Your eyes finally landed on Snape's, which were shooting daggers at you. "Follow me," he spat. He directed you towards your seat and he pointed at the board while looking at you. A chalk stick began levitating and writing textbook pages on the board. You looked at Snape while grabbing your quilt. "Homework, now," he mouthed. You nodded quickly and opened your textbook, and that was when most people started adding the powder to their potion. You were satisfied, and you hoped for Snape to give you at least a little bit of recognition for your work. You understood that he would not say anything good, but in revenge, he did not say anything bad.

Time passed by fast before Hannah and Susan sat beside you, writing their homework down before patiently waiting for the class to end, which would be in the next few minutes. "What happened there, with you and Snape?" Hanna asked.

"Honestly... I don't even know," you responded, earning an incredulous look from both girls. The clock ticked past 11:50 and it was now lunch. You were more than happy to finally sneak something under your teeth.

******************

As you sat in charms class, you sat above Hermione and Ron, knowing what was about to come next between the two of them. The teacher had been rambling about the levitation charm, and when you all got the chance to try and practise it, Hannah, who was next to you along with Susan, kept talking to the two of you instead of focusing on making her feather float. You tried focusing on Ron and Hermione in front of you.

"Stop, stop, stop! You're going to take someone's eye out! Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Levi-O-sa, not Levio-SA!" the bushy-haired girl scolded, her head shaking in disapproval. Ron scoffed.

"You do it then, if you're so clever!" he refuted, "Go on, go on!" The redhead clicked his tongue while Hermione raised her wand above her feather.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she articulated with a precise wand wave. Her feather began slowly rising upon the desk, floating above every student's head. Ron rolled his eyes.

Professor Flitwick looked at her feather in wonder. "Oh, well done!" he exclaimed in that high voice of his. "See here, everyone, Miss Granger's done it! Splendid!" Ron huffed and rested his head on his books, not even bothering to practise his spell anymore. You looked down at them until Susan shook your arm, diverting your attention from the duo to her own feather, which hovered slightly. You congratulated her until you heard–

BOOM!

Everyone jumped. Seamus Finnigan, the Gryffindor student next to Harry, stared at his feather, which was now completely black from the explosion. Your heartbeat slowed down. How does he always manage to blow stuff up? Harry spoke up.

"I think we're going to need another feather here, professor."

You knew his explosions were loud, but that noise almost pierced your ears. You felt light ringing in your ears and shared a wide-eyed look between Susan and Hannah.

The rest of the class flowed smoothly. You got your feather up and urged Hannah to try to do the same. It took a lot of convincing from you and Susan for her to finally do the work. It was nearly time to head to your flying lesson, but you kept Hermione under a watchful eye. You thought about preventing her from going in the bathroom during dinner, where you knew the troll would appear. You tapped your foot against the ground, waiting for Flitwick to say the words.

"Class dismissed-"

He barely got the time to finish his sentence before everyone sprung up, ready to leave. This class was not boring in the slightest. On the contrary, it was entertaining. However, flying class was a much bigger success amongst the students. You followed behind Hermione and, as you all went outside, you passed by Harry, who walked with Seamus, Dean, and Ron. They looked as if they were in a very animated discussion.

"It's Levi-O-sa, not Levio-sar," the redhead mocked Hermione's voice. His friends giggled at his gimmick. "She's a nightmare, honestly! No wonder she hasn't got any friends-" Hermione shoved past him, their shoulders slamming against one another.

You frowned as you passed by the group of boys, strutting over to go talk to Hermione. You did not even know what you would say, but you knew you needed to talk to her. The group saw the expression you gave them and slightly halted in their step while you reached Hermione.

"...I think they heard you," Harry said, wide-eyed. He felt a wave of guilt settle in him along with Ron. The other two boys felt the same shame, but it was different for them. You were someone they could consider to be close with them. You were kind, generous, and good, and you hearing what Ron just said could taint your image of them. They continued walking, but this time, Ron and Harry kept silent, sharing glances. Not only they felt bad for Hermione, but they did not like how you saw bad in them.

On the other hand, you rushed to the side of the bushy-haired girl. Her head hung low and she clutched her book in her arms. Your face contorted into one of empathy.

"Don't listen to them," you started softly, not wanting to startle her. Hermione's eyebrows shot up as she turned to look at you. You were at loss for words; you did not know how to comfort her. "I just– I heard what Ron said; they're being mean just for laughs, it's stupid," you said, trying your best to make her feel better. Eventually she smiled half-heartedly at you, grateful.

"You're right, I shouldn't think much of it. They're just stupid boys, after all. My parents warned me about people like them," she said, earning a surprised look from you.

"What do you mean 'your parents warned you'?" you questioned as you both walked towards the field, where the brooms hid. Hermione sighed.

"My old school was no different; people always picking on each other... They were rude to me, too. Was it not the same in your school?" she asked, wondering about your past. Certainly, to her, every school had its fair share of bad people.

You both continued talking as you walked in the field for your flying class, grabbing a broom on the way. During the entirety of the course, you felt Harry and Ron's eyes pierce through you as you stayed close to Hermione. At the end, you all went separate ways, trying to avoid the boys' stares as you made your way towards the Great Hall.

Harry was sad– no, he felt helpless. He had already made you feel bad about him once by ignoring you after running from the three-headed dog, and now this. It was as if he was back to being with the Dursleys: he was a bad person, a waste of space for making you feel this way, or at least he thought. Ron was on the same boat; You were so kind to stand up for him against Draco on the first day, and this was how he repaid you. How rude...

As you walked in the Great Hall, your gaze immediately landed on the ceiling. A gentle storm outside the castle walls lit the sky in a dark blue hue, occasionally adding a flash of white, quiet thunder. Carved Halloween pumpkins floated above the students' heads and the main chimney bore a wild fire, which warmed the room. You sat next to Hannah and Susan, per usual, and chatted your time away while waiting for other students to pour in the room. Finally, when the time came, the feast started.

Upon you was revealed hundreds, if not, thousands of different confectioneries of all kinds. Everyone quickly dug in, their mouths salivating and plates filling up like crazy. You looked around to see, much to your pleasure, Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table talking to Harry and Ron, who you assumed apologised to her. You smiled before looking around. You came prepared.

"Hey," you whispered to Hannah and Susan in the loud room. Both girls turned to look at you. The blonde, whose mouth was filled with chocolate, frowned, unable to hear you.

"WHAT?" she yelled. You gave her a look before taking out a medium-sized bag which could easily be hidden under your robe. The girls' eyes glimmered and you all began sneaking food in the bag, ready to eat later. Students were rarely given treats, so this would be the perfect occasion to keep food on you.

You had just filled the bag until you heard the entrance doors swing open, revealing Professor Quirrell running in the Hall. As soon as he came in, the man began screaming for his dear life.

"TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON!" he cried while running. "TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!" He caught his breath slightly. Dumbledore stood up at this warning. "...Though you ought to know," Quirrell mumbled before promptly falling onto the floor, unconscious.

...

AAAAAAAAH!!!

Ear-piercing screeches from students were heard from almost every student. Faces contorted into ones of pure panic, and everybody's voices mixed together in pure chaos. People stood up and began running and pushing each other out of the way, urging themselves to go to safety. You looked for your friends and Susan had the misfortune of being pushed on the table, her robe becoming stained in cake.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore's voice rang, drowning every other voice beneath his. Everyone shut up and looked at him. "Everyone will please not panic! Now... Prefects will lead their house back to the dormitories... Teachers will follow me to the dungeons."

With that, you quickly, but safely followed your curly-haired prefect to your dorm. Luckily, you were far from the dungeons. As you arrived at your dorm, you slopped on your bed. Hannah flopped on your bed and Susan, whose robe was still stained, cleaned it. You looked at the blue-eyed girl.

"You have your own bed, get off!" you laughed, playfully swinging your feet at her. To this, she only propped her elbows on the bed, resting her head between her hands and swinging her feet back and forth. "You look like you want somethi- oh..." you said. She grinned.

"Hand them over, I'm still hungry," she complained, reaching for your bag. You let her have her moment and enjoy herself.

The rest of the night was a blur. The faint light pierced through your windows and, in your opinion, you could not have asked for a better dorm. It felt like home, and it was comfortable and warm. You could not imagine how cold the Ravenclaw tower could get with the wind perfectly hitting their highest level, how dark the Slytherin dorms got at night and how messy the Gryffindor dorms could become. You were at peace, here. Finally, your eyes closed, drifting in a state of bliss.

Chapter Text

10/11/1991

You woke up long before Hannah and Susan. Excitement bubbled inside of you. It was nearly 7:00 and only a few students, mainly Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch players and their friends, were already seated and scarfing down their food in the Great Hall. Your ears perked up at a specific voice.

"Take a bit of toast, mate. Go on," you heard Ron say. You caught his eye and, as Hermione spoke to Harry, he waved you over with his usually goofy smile. Harry, on the other hand, played with his food and looked down in nervosity.

"Ron's right, Harry," the bushy-haired girl added. "You're gonna need your strength today."

You approached the table, but quickly noticed Professor Snape doing the same. He waltzed towards the unsuspecting trio. His eyes caught yours in the process and, even if it was just for a moment, you noticed a glimpse of hesitance in him. You frowned and sat next to the redhead, and the man looked down at the scarred boy.

"Good luck today, Potter..." he spoke in an almost warning tone, making the trio's heads whip towards him. He looked down at you all in silence and finally took his leave. The four of you stared at his back and it was only then that you could notice the subtle, but perceptible limping in his right leg.

"He's limping..." you said, your voice barely above a whisper. This elicited a reaction in Harry. As you sat down next to Ron, he leaned towards the three of you in secrecy.

"Listen..." he started, drawing your attention. "Last night, I'm guessing that Snape let a troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that three-headed dog, but he got himself bitten. That's why he's limping–" Hermione's brows furrowed and she quickly interjected.

"But why would anyone get near that dog?" she asked. As the redhead continued scarfing down his food next to you, Harry turned to Hermione.

"The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. Said it was Hogwarts business–" he looked at you, "–very secret..."

"So you're saying–" Hermione mumbled. Harry cut her off.

"That's what the dog's guarding," he exclaimed, lightly slamming his hand on the table. "That's what Snape wants." There was a short silence between the four of you to digest everything that was said. You spoke up.

"I know you might have your opinions on Snape, but I don't believe he would do such a thing," you tried convincing them.

"How would you know?" Ron questioned in a mocking tone. You huffed and grabbed some food on your plate as Harry stared at you, puzzled. The silence was broken by the screeches of a white owl. You recognized it immediately; it was the scarred boy's. It carried a huge object wrapped in brown paper. The animal flew over your heads and dropped the gift on the table in front of you. Harry was quick to catch it before it landed on the table. You have never understood why owls did that; it was hazardous. You already knew what hid under all that paper, but you had to feign ignorance. On the other hand, everyone at the table eyed the object in curiosity.

"Bit early for mail, isn't it?" Hermione asks herself. Harry's eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

"But I never get mail..." the boy murmurs. You, on the other hand, empathised with Harry. You and your parents have yet to have exchanged letters. You gave yourself a mental note to do it tonight. After all, it has been nearly four months since you last spoke to them. Ron's eyes widened in anticipation.

"Let's open it!"

Simultaneously, you and the trio were quick to rip the paper apart. Finally, a broomstick revealed itself under your hands. It was mostly brown with golden rims. Your eyes travelled to the top of the handle where it was written the name of the model in fine gold police.

Nimbus 2000

By the time you inspected the object before you, the people who sat along the Gryffindor table began noticing the broom.

"It's a broomstick..." Harry said, almost casually. Ron looked as if his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets.

"It's not just a broomstick, Harry! It's a Nimbus two-thousand!" the redhead almost yelled. Small murmurs elevated around you from witnesses. Oliver Wood, who sat next to the scarred boy, had his jaw on the floor from the sight of such a unique broomstick.

"But who–" Harry started, only to be cut off by the sound of his owl, Hedwig. He looked over to the animal, who stood next to Professor McGonagall. The older lady petted the owl and looked at the boy, sending him a smile. You were focused on Oliver Wood's face. He was so awestruck before the broom that it was almost funny. He did not blink nor breathe, just stared at the object. Eventually, his eyes darted to yours and as he saw your amused, almost mocking face, he grew red in embarrassment.

After a prolonged silence, Hermione turned to Ron. "Can houses sit with other houses in Quidditch stands?"

"...No? Why?" the said boy asked, barely being able to speak because of the food sitting in his mouth. The bushy haired girl then put on an apologetic face and looked at you.

Oh.

"Oh, it's okay! It's not the end of the world," you reassured her. She still looked hesitant, but eventually let it go.

As more and more students flooded into the Great Hall, the four of you went out and chatted some more. You and Hermione encouraged Harry for his Quidditch match whilst Ron tried to do the same, but kept ogling at the broomstick. Spirits were high and, as time passed, you could see the stress flooding Harry's eyes more and more. When the time came for the matches to start, you had to part from the group along with the Gryffindor Seeker. Both of you passed by a Hufflepuff stand and, as you were about to go in, Harry stopped you.

"What if I mess up... Will people hate me?" he asked. You knew he was insecure due to his family constantly belittling him, so you were patient.

"You won't screw up," you replied. You did not dare comment on the second question. If he did do badly, you were sure that some Gryffindors would be foul with the boy in response. "Who knows, maybe you'll even catch the snitch with your mouth," you said, knowing very well what you meant. Your friend seemed to share your amusement.

"Sure..." he told you, a smile stretching on his face. There was a silence before he murmured a shy "Thank you".

"No problem... Now go kick some butts," you joked as you waved him goodbye, climbing up the stairs of your stand. Harry laughed at your comment and waved back, walking towards the field's entrance.

The area was a lot bigger than you have speculated. The colours of the stadium were slightly faded due to how old they were, but the green grass and blue sky brought a liveliness to the atmosphere. There were already some students scattered everywhere and murmurs were heard left and right.

Shortly after you arrived at the top of your stand, the area began filling with people quickly and, before you knew it, the event had started. The players flew past you on their brooms and you could feel the wind they created on your face. People began screaming and bumping into each other hard, encouraging both teams. You could barely move as you had no space to yourself. You caught a glimpse of red flash by and you whipped your head to follow the player. There floated Harry next to your stand, who's smile grew bigger every second. He spotted you in the crowd and let go of the broom, taking the time to wave at you. You waved back with just as much enthusiasm and mouthed him a "good luck", earning an appreciative look from him before he left to join the other players in the middle of the stadium.

"Hello! Welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season. Today's game: Slytherin versus Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan, the Quidditch commentator, exclaimed into his microphone.

People cheered greatly and you let yourself follow the crowd. Your heart pumped at an unparalleled speed and your hands felt clammy. You were nervous and, if you felt this way now, you could not imagine how your black-haired friend must have felt. You could see his figure grow closer to the centre of the pitch.

"The players take their positions as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field to begin the game!" Jordan explained. The said woman marched towards the players and set a brown box down before them. The box shook by itself, presumably because of one of the Bludgers. The yellow-eyed woman looked up at the players, all hovering above her and ready on their broomsticks. She spoke up, and her instructions were as clear as day. You knew the game: get the Quaffle in one of the three hoops, don't get hit by Bludgers, and catch the Snitch. Simple.

"Now, I want a nice, clean game... from all of you!" she said, looking around at every player, her stare lingering at the Slytherin team in a warning glare. She slowly bent down to open the brown box, revealing the Quaffle, the two Bludgers and the Golden Snitch. As soon as the contents of the case were shown, the Bludgers along with the Snitch flew up by themselves. Lee spoke once again.

"The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember, the Snitch is worth 150 points. The Seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game–"

There was a long silence before Madam Hooch grabbed the Quaffle and threw it high up in the air. You felt people hold their breaths, anticipating the start of the game. You have never heard an entire stadium so quiet. No one dared speaking before Jordan's signal.

"–The Quaffle is released and the game begins!"

As soon as those words were uttered, players clashed together and the crowd went wild. People screamed and yelled as limbs were tangled desperately in hopes of getting the Quaffle. A Gryffindor got hold of the Quaffle. The player flew past many Slytherins trying to get their hands on the ball, almost smacking through a crowd of staff. The player holding the Quaffle rushed by Slytherins, growing closer to the opponents' hoops.

DING!

A point has been made.

"ANGELINA JOHNSON SCORES! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" Jordan yelled in his microphone. Absolute chaos broke in the crowd, and you were a part of it. You cheered until your throat hurt. You caught a glimpse of Harry clapping and cheering, only to have a Bludger fly right across his face, making him lose his balance for a second. He quickly got back on track, searching for the Snitch. His hair was messier than you have ever seen.

"Slytherin takes position of the Quaffle. Betchley passes to Captain Marcus Flint." You heard the slight disappointment in Jordan's voice as Gryffindors flew across the Slytherin captain, unable to reach for the Quaffle in his hands. The Captain even managed to kick a player from the opposite team right in the stomach, earning a collective grunt from the crowd. Your face twisted in a small grimace upon seeing the girl get hurt.

Once he got close enough to one of the three hoops, Marcus Flint threw the ball. Oliver Wood was quick. He flew up and hit the ball away with the corner of his broom. He looked back at the discontented Slytherin with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Why is Quidditch so brutal?" you asked yourself.

The Quaffle was now being passed around by the Gryffindor team without stopping. A red-caped girl held the Quaffle in her arms as if her life depended on it while two Slytherins chased her. The worry on her face was noticeable even from far away. She passed behind the three Slytherin hoops and swiftly passed the Quaffle to her teammate, who was in front of the hoops. The Gryffindor threw the Quaffle in the middle hoop.

DING!

The Gryffindors screamed loudly in pride and encouragement. Other houses cheered with them except Slytherins, who looked as if they were almost sulking.

"ANOTHER TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" Jordan Lee yelled in his microphone, himself not being able to contain his excitement. Everyone near you bumped into each other as they cheered, causing you to stumble. But you did not care for it, and you never thought you would.

You believed the Slytherins became tired of the cheer for Gryffindor. They wanted to hear some for their own team, to make themselves known as a good opponent. A green-caped teen caught the Quaffle and flew as fast as he could towards the opposite team's hoops. His speed even caused his hair to whip the air behind his head. Slytherins grew closer to the edges of their stands, expectant and hopeful. The player got close to the hoops and, when he finally threw the Quaffle, Oliver Wood jumped up once again, intercepting the goal. The Goalkeeper threw the Quaffle back into the game. As players fought for the Quaffle once again, Marcus Flint and his Beater teammate stood still in the middle of the arena, causing people to murmur. Two friends shouted next to you; a brown-haired girl and a blond-haired boy.

"Why are they not moving?"

"Who cares, it's giving an advantage to Gryffindors!"

You frowned and looked closer. Markus yanked the Beater's bat and drew his arm back in fury. A Bludger flew towards the Captain and, with all his might, he hit it towards Oliver. The Goalkeeper's face contorted in pain as the Bludger landed right on his stomach, causing him to fly back and fall through the hoop from behind. His body went limp and it was a horrible, stressful sight. He fell right on the sand below him along with his broom on his side. You let a gasp out at this. The Slytherins, however, looked content with their Captain's actions, smiles smeared on all of their faces.

The Quaffle was still being passed around, but this time, by Slytherins.

DING!

The Slytherins cried their cheers as other houses began fearing their potential win. You searched for the familiar black-haired boy among the players. Upon finding him, you noticed his upsetted look. He looked genuinely mad, watching the Slytherins begin once again to rush towards the hoop. He shook his head and focused on finding the Golden Snitch.

Your eyes trailed his figure until you suddenly heard the people around you gasp. Looking away, you saw a Gryffindor player on the ground, unconscious as well.

A Slytherin came close to the goal.

DING!

This was seriously starting to annoy you. The Slytherins were not playing a fair game. You were sure they purposely eliminated the opposite team's players.

"Make others bad to look good... Sounds like something a Slytherin would do," a green-eyed girl next to you commented. Even if people in your stand were not the target audience to her comment, you all subconsciously nodded or hummed in collective agreement.

The green students cheered louder than ever as Harry kept searching for the Snitch. Finally, a glimpse of gold flashed before his eyes. You saw his head suddenly twist in all sorts of directions from afar.

"He found it," you told yourself.

Harry flashed by where you stood, chasing the Snitch, and the wind he created made you squint hard. It all happened so fast. He was after the small object before you shut your eyes and, when you opened them, Harry was far away on his broom, twisting and turning in every way. He swished from left to right, up and down, turned and did sideway flips on himself. Your concern grew for him. You knew what was happening, but you could not resist feeling an overwhelming need to help. It was as if your body wanted to pull you towards the young boy. You heard the worried stares and gasps coming from the crowd as the black-haired boy did acrobatics in the air. Suddenly, Harry was left hanging from his shaking broom with one arm, then two.

He was your friend. You felt awful for having to watch it all and not be able to help, knowing it was Quirrell's work. The man had jinxed his broom and you knew it. You thought about how your friends were going to think that it was all Snape's fault; That he was the one responsible for this broom malfunction.

"Would they believe me if I told them it was Quirrell?" you thought. "Of course not."

You could see Professor Flitwick try his best to calm the broom, waving his wand frantically around his head. You were not even sure if he knew what he was doing anymore or if he had lost his mind because of how he casted his spell. You just begged to yourself for Hermione to distract Quirrell just so Harry's broom could stop moving as soon as possible.

The broom stopped moving.

Harry was back on and flew towards the Snitch. Upon seeing his quick recovery, every student began cheering for the Gryffindors. The scarred boy was now chasing the object across the arena in a desperate race against another Slytherin who had found the Snitch as well. They both repetitively slammed against each other in hopes of getting the other one down.

Harry was a lot younger than the teen, making it impossible for him to move the other. This would be a fight he would lose.

Suddenly, the Snitch turned and headed straight down.

Both boys followed it and, every second, grew closer to the ground. For what felt like an eternity, they followed the Snitch as if it was the only thing that mattered at the moment. The Slytherin, fear overtaking him, abandoned the chase, prioritising his safety over the game. Harry, on the other hand, kept a cold front. It was only until he was mere inches from the ground that he finally went back to flying across the arena, towards the snitch. People screamed at this maneuver in worry.

The boy still chased the Snitch, as if the sound around him fell on deaf ears. Then, slowly, Harry slid his hands on his broom to prop his feet on the wood. His movements seemed to take an eternity and were awfully wobbly, making you wince. His arm was stretched in front of him as if he yearned for the Snitch.

A second later, your friends fell forward on the ground, causing everyone to scream. He got back up, steadily, his hands on his knees. He straightened his back. Other players flew above him as he suddenly lurched over. The crowd stared and faces contorted into disgust. Voices around you spoke.

"Is he going to puke?"

"If he vomits, I will too!"

"Ew, no, get away from me–"

"Poor boy."

Your hands covered your mouth softly. You did not blink. You waited for it.

Harry suddenly spit something in his hands and you smiled, eyes sparkling.

"He's got the Snitch!" Lee Jordan shouted in his microphone in disbelief.

"Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!"

In the middle of the arena flew in Madam Hooch, blowing her whistle. She yelled:

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Shouts, yells, cheers and screams came from you and the crowd. People jumped and clapped in happiness, smiles plastered on their faces. The atmosphere was high and lively; It was truly a joyous moment. Everyone held their friends or shared their happiness with someone dear. Harry clutches the Snitch on his hand, showing it off to the entire stage.

"I'll see him later," you reassured yourself, joy finding a warm place inside your heart to settle in. Time seemed to stop where you stood. This feeling felt fragile like soft, dainty chimes.

As time passed, people walked down their stands and you followed. Everyone strutted back to the castle at their own pace, and you did not know how to find anyone you knew in the sea of people.

The air felt fresh against your skin. It looked like a day that could only be lived by your younger self. The sky was bright blue and cleared from most clouds. There was a little wind that made the grass and leaves dance on themselves. The large lake and the castle nearby made the scene look like a painting.

You travelled quietly before you recognized a familiar head two metres diagonal from you. The person's head hung low, feet almost dragged across the grass in each step.

"Theodore?" you called out, unsure. You walked faster to catch up to him. You did not want to walk alone. The young boy heard his name and jumped up slightly, unexpectant. He looked around, frowning, until his gaze stopped on you. You were now walking beside him as his gaze hardened. Most students were already ahead of the two of you by far.

"Oh, hey," he murmured. His tone had changed since you last talked. It was one of pure disappointment and slight aggressiveness. The harshness of his tone caught you off guard, but it was to be expected.

"You okay?" He did not bother to answer. He looked straight ahead. "I'm sure Slytherin will win another time–"

"–God, can you shut up?" he spat. The comment made you stop dead in your tracks. "I don't want to be friends with you! I just need a better Herbology partner, don't twist my intentions."

He snapped at you and you were left frozen. He stood in front of you in a straight posture, intimidating for an 11 year old. There was a silence in which the wind blew, creating a wall between the two of you. Your heart felt like it slowed down and you looked down.

"Alright..." you barely whispered. You passed him, not daring to look in his eyes.

"Mudbloods," he mumbled to himself. You caught that.

You left him behind as you walked in the castle, alone once again, his words replaying in your head. How could someone be so mean? 

Chapter Text

10/11/1991

The day went on and you had finally found the trio in the courtyard. The sky had an orange, almost pink hue to it. They all wore their black robes along with a scarf matching their house's colours. You, Ron and Hermione wore your houses' robes along with your scarves. Harry, on the other hand, was wearing his robe with a familiar chrome green scarf.

It was the one you had made him.

They had explained everything that happened to you during the match about Snape jinxing Harry's broom, and although you knew that was a misunderstanding, you did not try to prove them otherwise. You told yourself that they would find out on their own. On the way, you found Hagrid.

"I swear, when I got close to Snape, he was murmuring an incantation! We saw it and I heard him!" Hermione confessed to the much taller man. Looking at him with your own eyes felt surreal; he was much taller than you expected. It was like walking next to a bear. Hagrid's deep voice resonated in your ears.

"Nonsense! Why would Snape put a curse on Harry's broom?"

"Who knows?" started Harry. "Why was he trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween?" Hagrid's head abruptly turned towards Harry in a sceptical expression.

"Who told you about Fluffy?" he asked. Ron's face contorted into one of confusion and judgement.

"Fluffy?"

"That thing has a name?" Hermione asked.

"Of course he's got a name, he's mine!" Hagrid revealed. "I bought him off an Irish feller I met down the pub last year–" As he spoke, you and Harry shared a look that screamed "Is he crazy?". "–Then I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the–"

"–Yes?" Harry interjected, too impatient to hear the rest. Hagrid looked at the four of you.

"Shouldn't have said that," he murmured. "No more questions!" he pointed to us. "Don't ask any more questions. That's top-secret, that is!"

"But Hagrid, whatever Fluffy's guarding, Snape's trying to steal it," the black-haired boy said, begging to know more. You felt Hermione and Ron both lean in, letting their curiosity take over them.

"Codswallop!" the gruff man exclaimed. He stopped walking and turned towards the four of you, leaning down to talk better. You followed his actions. "Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher." Hermione replied.

"Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a spell when I see one. I've read all about them. You've got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking," she said, punctuating her words near the end.

"Exactly," Harry approved. Hagrid paused for a moment of silence and made eye contact with all of you before leaning down more and murmuring.

"Now, listen to me, all four of you," he pointed towards each of you. "You're meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous. What that dog is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."

"Nicolas Flamel?" Harry questioned. Hagrid's expression melted into one of realisation.

"I shouldn't have said that. I should not have said that," he repeated, turning back to march towards his hut. The four of you stayed at your place.

"Nicolas Flamel... Who's Nicolas Flamel?" the boy asked himself.

"I don't know," Hermione said. You looked at her, then Harry.

"I do," you said, causing them to whip their heads in your direction. Their eyebrows were all furrowed in confusion. "Nicolas Flamel... He's mentioned in the back of Dumbledore's chocolate frog card, is he not?" One shared glance between all four of you and you were all running to the Gryffindor common room, where Ron kept some of his collection cards. The halls were cold and silent, but nearing the Gryffindor dorms, you heard festive noises coming from it.

"Why is it so loud?" Harry commented.

"Probably celebrating their victory," you answered, breathing in to prepare for Harry's great entry in the dorms. You knew he was going to get bombarded with praise from his house mates; it was to be expected. You all got in front of the tired-looking portrait of the Fat Lady

"Password?" her gruff voice resonated in the halls. She was filing her nails and did not even bother looking up at the four of you.

"Caput Draconis," Hermione said, which opened the painting-door, revealing the inside of the common room.

It was nowhere near calm.

There was a sea of Gryffindors eating, chatting, laughing and even dancing with music coming from a source you could not find. Tables in the red common room were filled with food on top of food and moving balloons flew their way in the air the way they desired. You took notice of the Weasley twins setting up what seemed to be a firework on one of the tables.

"Oh God..." you thought.

Voices elevated as you began walking through the room.

"Is that Potter?"

"Hey, the winner is here!"

"Harry!"

The four of you looked at each other and before you knew it, you sprinted and followed the two boys to their dormitories. The stairs were not well-separated, making you stumble in your step. Finally, entering the dorm, Ron shut the door behind you. You all collectively sighed. Your heart pounded hard against your chest. Ron immediately went to look for his stash of cards. You inched closer to him as he finally took a specific card out.

"There it is!" he said. He turned around to you and Hermione, who stood in the middle of the room. Harry sat on the bed and Ron, on the floor. "It says here: Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!"

The four of you looked at each other, grins on your faces.

"We're on the right path," Hermione commented. "I have a good feeling about this."

A knock suddenly came from the other side of the door. A familiar voice rang from the other side.

"Come out! We've got something prepared for everybody–"

"–and it's going to be wicked!" another voice completed.

You had an idea of who was on the other side of the door and your heart leapt. The twins were always a chaotic pair, but a heartwarming one nonetheless. Ron groaned and got up to open the door, looking up in desperation. He only had the chance to turn the knob before the two teens came in bustling, all sorts of treats in their hands.

"Opened soon enough!" a twin said. He was slightly smaller and his nose was straight. He must have been Fred. He came in first and ruffled his little brother's hair.

"Starting to believe you don't love us anymore, Ron!" the other joked, probably George.

"Hello, hello, hello," they greeted everyone as one jumped on a bed across Ron's and the other on the cold, rocky windowsill. "So, you lot coming down or not?" Fred asked. You thought about it. Ron opened his mouth to refuse, but you were quicker.

"I don't see why not," you told them, a grin making its way on your face. Harry seemed to be on the same page as you along with the twins. Hermione was tired, but willing to celebrate as well for the house points Gryffindor won for the Quidditch match. Ron, as much as he loved Quidditch, looked tired out of his mind of his brothers' antics.

"Great!" they both exclaimed, getting off their spots. George grabbed Harry and Hermione whilst Fred grabbed you and Ron, both laughing. You and Harry were ecstatic.

You got down the stairs and were greeted by people chanting Harry's name. People crowded over him and the twins let go all of you, chanting along with others.

"Harry! Harry! Harry!"

Suddenly, there was a sound of something being ignited. Everybody turned towards the redheads in the corner of the room, fireworks on the table. It happened so quickly. One second you heard the fireworks being lit up, and then next, everyone scurried off to protect themselves somewhere. People were on the floor, hand over their heads or pushing their friends down. Harry brought you down with him, putting his chest and one arm on your head. His other hand went directly on his own head. The warmth of his body enveloped you and his protection brought you a warm feeling of safety in this moment. The fireworks made a sizzling noise before letting out a high whistle.

POW!

Colours exploded on the ceiling. Some people laughed, others screamed and some even cheered on, encouraging the twins.

Soon enough, music started again and people went back to what they did. You were talking to Harry about the match while eating until the pair or Beaters came up on each side of Harry, both leaning on his shoulders.

"Bet they don't do it like us with the Hufflepuffs!" Fred exclaimed, pride filling him.

"I wouldn't know, we haven't won the cup yet!" you teased. Most Hufflepuffs were more into quiet spaces, but you knew people with partying potential.

"Yet?" George echoed, a playful smile making its way on his face. Harry, who's shoulders began hurting from their weight, moved away to face the twins.

"You'll see. Hufflepuffs rule, Gryffindors drool," you told them in false confidence. You knew very well your team would never beat theirs and everyone knew you knew. "You'll learn that sooner or later, George."

"George? I'm Fred!" he said.

"And I'm George!" exclaimed the other.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's the opposite," you told them. You were going to start hesitating but you knew you were right when Fred put a hand on his heart as they both let out gasps, eyes twinkling.

"How do you know?" asked Harry. You wanted to keep the secret; it was funny to you.

"A magician never reveals his secrets," you laughed. Saying this at Hogwarts made the saying incredibly ironic.

The rest of the night went smoothly and, soon enough, it was time for bed. You would have classes the next day and you were not ready to sleep too late. The party died and people started cleaning up. Everyone looked tired and dishevelled. You helped and, when the necessary was done, you bid goodbye to your friends. As you were about to step out of the room, the twins made you stop by yelling out your name.

"You forgot this!" Fred said, handing you a large rainbow lollipop.

"Everyone got one before going off to bed," backed up George. You thought about it being a trick to one of their inventions, but you shrugged nonetheless and took it gratefully.

"Thank you so much!" you smiled. "Tonight was wonderful, thank you."

"Thank you," said the twins at the same time. You two waved at each other before letting the portrait close.

"I want to see the look on that Hufflepuff's face when the cand–" the door shut, cutting George off and muffling his voice. You smiled to yourself.

It was almost past curfew, but you had the time to do something else before going to bed. That was when you remembered the starry night you saw on the astronomy tower. Every time you went, it only got better. The view was something you could not get enough of. You dreamt of the entirety of Hogwarts along with the night sky. The sight of the moon being reflected on the lake, the stars shining bright above you...

You wasted no time climbing the huge amount of stairs to get to the top of the tower. The air grew progressively colder, starting with feeling cool nips to a gust of wind blowing on your robe. You were lucky to still have your scarf with you, but its texture was slightly rough, making it uncomfortable. It was okay, though. Some things were worth it. Finally, you reached the final step.

It was almost pitch black outside and lanterns were out. Your eyes adapted to the darkness enough to be able to wander around. The Astronomy Tower stood taller than any building, letting you see everything. You saw the castle's courtyards along with the Quidditch pitch and the bridge from your own eyes and, if you turned around and leaned on the railing, you would see the large lake along with the crescent moon shining above the Forbidden Forest. You felt big here. As if you were on top of the world. You felt like you were in the perfect dream.

It was beautiful.

Everything felt perfect up there, and you wanted to stay. Unfortunately, curfew was approaching and you would not dare having another detention. You hurried back to your dorm, only crossing a few other students waltzing in the halls. Arriving at your dorm and tapping the barrels, you paid a visit to the washroom. Surprisingly, even something as mundane as a bathroom looked wonderful to you. A few plants hung from the ceiling and many golden mirrors decorated the walls.

You headed back to your room and opened the door to find Hannah and Susan sound asleep already. You smiled to yourself as you tucked yourself in bed, letting sleep take over your senses.

Chapter Text

19/11/1991

Seven days.

Theodore Nott has been sending you dirty looks for seven days.

There you stood next to a beaming Neville in Herbology. The sun shone brightly on the glass of the greenhouse, making it incredibly hot for November. Students had to remove their robes and scarves for gardening coats as they entered the classroom. Professor Sprout, with all of her layers of beige and brown clothing and her heavy hat, seemed unbothered by the heat. Green filled the room and rays of sunshine enveloped the place in a warm embrace.

The deep blue-eyed boy stood on the opposite side of the classroom, facing you. His expression felt different today; as if his anger wavered. Professor Sprout began talking.

“Today, we are handling a very special plant,” she said, pulling out a metal container. “Can anybody tell me what the Devil’s snare is?” 

You knew Neville knew the answer. He shot you a look that screamed his interest in this plant in particular and you smiled in response. Your heart always warmed up when he expressed his joy on the smallest things. You thought it was a trait that made him very likeable. Hermione, however, had no shame raising her hand.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“The Devil’s Snare is a plant that has the ability to constrict or strangle anything that touches it,” she said, projecting her high voice in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Correct! Five points to Gryffindor,” the professor said. “Now, I want a volunteer to demonstrate how to neutralise it– Only if you know how, of course.” 

Everyone stole a subtle glance towards Hermione, who herself looked as if she remembered reading it, but forgot. It became a habit for students to expect Hermione to know everything, because for the most part, she always did. You, on the other hand, knew how to. You raised your hand and the teacher called on you, slightly surprised. 

While she spoke, she came up to you with the metal box in her hands. “Now, of course, try to touch it very briefly for it to start moving. You may take your wand out now.” You felt eyes piercing through you as you reached for your wand’s protective case. It was borderline embarrassing how, every time you reached out for it, you had to open the case. You had acknowledged the fact that your wand was too sharp for it to be safe, but it still managed to make shame crawl its way through you. “When you’re ready, dear,” Sprout said.

You let out a quick huff. “Ready,” you signalled. You felt Neville tense up next to you. The poor boy was afraid. Professor Sprout slid the bottom of the metal box off and lifted it, revealing small vines coming from a pot. 

The vines stood still, as if waiting for you. The teacher stayed close in precaution, which made you less anxious. You rolled up your sleeve before reaching towards the plant. Your finger trembled slightly as you finally set a finger on it. It was rough, almost rocky.

You quickly pulled your arm back as the plant began stirring. It was small, therefore weak. The vines grew towards you ever so slightly, making you brandish your wand.

“ Lumos ,” your voice rang across the greenhouse. The tip of your wand began shining a bright, white light right in front of the vines. This made a few people squint. The plant squirmed and slowly drew back. Hermione shut her eyes and frowned, as if she had just remembered how to defend herself against it. Professor Sprout, with a satisfied hum, placed the box back over the plant and slid the metal container close. 

“This was just right,” she confirmed with a hint of pride for her house. It was known that Hufflepuffs tended to excel in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. “The Devil’s Snare is sensitive to light. When confronted against it, it is necessary to cast a light spell,” she informed, her hands waving around as she explained. She was a very articulate woman. “Five points to Hufflepuff!”

Time flew by and class ended. Students flooded out of the greenhouse, leaving their brown coats behind to wear their house robes. Many people wore their scarves in a desperate attempt to warm themselves up. You wore yours as well. It felt almost prickly on your skin, but you did not complain. You liked it. 

“I don’t understand why we have passwords for dorms. If a password is revealed, then anyone can enter no matter the house. Why isn’t there magic that identifies your house and lets you enter your dorm? I feel like that would work better,” you rambled. Neville just nodded as you exited the class.

“I don’t care much for houses. All I want is for the greenhouse to be open whenever.” You laughed at his reply.

“I could sneak you into my dorm. You’ll see how nice it is there–” you were interrupted by cold fingers wrapping themselves around your wrist. You tried to draw your hand back in reflex, but in vain. You turned around to see Theodore stare into your eyes, determined. Hesitant, you looked back at Neville, who seemed disturbed.

“See you later?” Neville nodded in response, quickly leaving the two of you alone. You went back to the dark-haired boy.

“Yes?” you voice out, slightly harsh. Nott let go of your hand and looked down. 

“Look, um, I’ve been thinking about… what I told you. What I said.”

“What about it?” You told him, almost waiting for an apology. Theodore was stuttering his thoughts out.

“I’m– I was mad. My team lost in Quidditch and I know it was stupid. I said mean things and… I like talking to you.” You let his words sink in. He was apologising. You remembered his words.

“–God, can you shut up? I don’t want to be friends with you! I just need a better Herbology partner, don’t twist my intentions.”

His words were mean. Evil, even. All of this over a small Quidditch cup. Could you forgive him? You knew about Slytherins. Their ambition was enough to push anyone far from them. He had been childish and immature.

But you were children.

You were no longer older. You had grown into a child. Immaturity was to be expected. 

“I’m glad you talked to me,” you simply told him. This was enough to make him look at you in the eyes, hopeful. His slightly round face lit up.

“Thank you.”

******************

Defence Against the Dark Arts was interesting, to say the least. The normal class usually ended in chaos. It was even worse that you sat next to Malfoy.

“E-EVERYBODY G-E-ET DOWN!” screamed Quirrell as Billywigs flew in every corner of the room. You knew all about those little devils. Small, blue creatures capable of stinging you. They were barely perceptible and their sting could cause Muggles and Wizards to start levitating.

 People screamed and thrashed around. Others slowly began lifting off the floor, flying uncontrollably. Panic filled the room. You were able to see a flash of blue rush towards you. You and Draco looked at each other.

“ AAAAAAAAAAHH! ” you both yelled, clutching onto the other for your dear lives.

Never in a million years you thought this would happen. It was utter chaos. Finally, the classroom’s entrance door flung open, revealing the principal.

“SILENCE!” he commanded, making everyone shut up as best they could. Everyone except Neville, who cried from across the room. With one swish of his wand, Dumbledore cleared out the classroom.

“Professor Quirrell,” the old man called out, his voice booming.

“Y-yes-s?”

“I wish to see you in my office. Now .”

Quirrell stuttered gibberish under his breath as he walked out the class, leaving students with themselves. It was quiet. You were still clutching onto Malfoy. Looking at each other, you immediately showed disgust, breaking away from the embrace. 

“ Ew ,” you both muttered. Time passed and people started getting up, helping those who were flying. 

You ended up carrying Neville by the foot to Madam Pomfrey, the nurse. It was a long trip and your arms got tired. You had to head to Charms right after, so you left Neville with a “get better soon”. 

******************

The night was always tranquil. The moon shone high that night, peeking through the library windows. Your owl had come back from a trip with a gift: an envelope addressed to you. It read:

We hope your year has been going well. We’re sorry for the lack of contact, sweetheart, this owl thing is so confusing! Who knew we could send animals for mail? That world is ingenious! 

Have you made friends?  How are your teachers? Are you getting good grades? Please, do tell!  

With love,

Mom and dad

You smiled in the dark and felt something else in the envelope. You looked through it and saw something gleaning under the moonlight. You frowned and got the object out of the envelope.

It was a silver chain with an oval pendant. It looked like a ruby adorned with beautiful silvery linings. You eagerly put it on, the corners of your lips tugged upwards. You admired its glint, your heart fluttering at the simple, but meaningful gift. Your parents really did like you here. You went to the librarian to ask for a typewriter, which she let you use.

Dear parents,

I am doing very well! My year has been going wonderfully. Do not worry, I am also confused about the owl mail. I am sure we will adapt to it. 

On another note, yes! I have made many friends. They are all very different from one another, but they are all refreshing to be with. School has been easier with them by my side. I have no comments on my teachers, but I can proudly say that my grades have been better than I expected. I think my work over the summer has been greatly beneficial. However, I have been told that I do not participate enough in class. I have been improving in that area, though. About that, I have a friend called Hermione Granger. We help each other in different subjects and exams become a breeze. 

I am very happy to be here. I wish you could see how wonderful it is here. 

With love,

Your child ♡

You drew a little heart at the end of your note with your quill. You had to be very careful not to make any mistakes, but you did it. It felt funny, using a quill and a typewriter, but you enjoyed it. You wrapped the letter on your owl, letting it take off in the night. You finished some transfiguration exercises before finally going off to bed.

Chapter Text

24/12/1991

Snow fell in abundance under the white sky. Frost formed over the Great Hall windows and it was colder than ever in the castle. You sat next to the burning chimney along with Ron and Harry, who have been playing chess for a few minutes in an endless game. Professor Flitwick could be seen decorating a huge Christmas tree in front of the place while singing a small song to himself.

Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas,

Ring the Hogwart bell.

Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, 

Cast a Christmas spell–

You did not mind his humming. In fact, it was nice. As you watched over the game, supporting your head with your hand and occasionally whispering advice to Harry much to Ron’s dismay, you felt at peace. The Hallways were bustling with students and ghosts, all carrying luggage and ready to board the Hogwarts Express home. Christmas was wonderful in Hogwarts. Although most students could not care less about the religious meaning of this holiday, people were cheerful to be able to return to their families for the break. You had contacted your parents and, surprisingly, they had preferred for you to stay in school.

“A little studying over the break would not hurt,” they wrote.

You found it weird, but you let it go, knowing you would rather stay deep down. 

You remember how Christmas felt when you were younger. People were always excited beyond their minds for their presents. The nostalgia crawled its way back into your heart. 

You felt it again. All of it has become part of your reality.

The simple cheer, the hope, the joy. 

The so-called “Christmas spirit”.

It was a beautiful feeling that bloomed in your chest and took over your senses. Despite the cold weather, you felt warm. You noticed that Harry was dressed in a light green wool sweater, which matched the familiar chrome green scarf you made him. It was a small gift to your eyes, but seeing him wear it with such pride melted your heart.

You noticed Hermione walk along the aisles of long, wooden tables towards the three of you, clutching her rolling luggage. Harry and Ron, however, looked too concentrated on their game to take in their surroundings.

“...Knight to E5,” the boy with glasses finally commanded.

The white piece of the chess board moved by itself to the said position. There was a long moment of concentrated silence, which was rare coming from the ginger, until he broke into a grin, crossing his arms. 

“Queen to E5,” he retorted. 

The red queen, a piece depicting a woman sitting on a throne, moved forward to the designated square. With the Knight already there, it stopped by E6 to get off its throne, grab it and swing it across the white piece, shattering it and taking its place, sitting back down. Hermione, who had just arrived, frowned at the game before her. 

“That’s totally barbaric!” she accused. 

“That’s Wizard’s chess,” Ron replied. He looked at her belongings. “I see you’ve packed.”

“I see you haven’t.”

“Change of plans. My parents decided to go to Romania to visit my brother, Charlie. He’s studying dragons there.” Hermione was not impressed. She called on to you.

“I assume it’s the same for you?”

“Yeah, my parents thought it would be better for me to stay,” you explained.

“Why?” she asked. You shrugged in response.

“Well, then you two can help Harry, then. He’s going to go to the library for information on Nicolas Flamel–”

“–We’ve looked a hundred times!” Ron complained. Harry nodded in agreement, and the girl bent down to you three.

“Not in the restricted section…” she said. After a small silence, she got ready to head back. “Happy Christmas.” 

She promptly turned around and innocently walked out of the Hall. The redhead looked at her in contemplation, then turned to you and Harry.

“I think we’ve had a bad influence on her,” he speculated. “At least, me and Harry have. You’ve done nothing wrong,” he gestured towards you.

“ Yet ,” you joked, earning a smile from the boys. 

“Yeah, yet ,” Harry copied. 

******************

25/12/1991

A hurried knock made its way in the Hufflepuff common room. You were in the centre of the dorms, sitting on one of the couches, flipping through “Herbs and Magical Creatures: An Ecosystem”, a book Neville got you as a present. The dark green book was a hardcover one and held golden linings. Most Hufflepuff students preferred to spend time with their families, as expected of them. You were alone in the room, but you did not feel lonely. Not one bit. 

You frowned at the noise. Who could be knocking on the dorm room so early in the morning. Curiosity flooded in you and you carefully set the book down before marching towards the entrance. You reached for the circular door and creaked it open ever so slightly. 

You saw Ron and Harry next to each other. The black-haired boy held a big, grey package whilst Ron carried a piece of cloth in his small arms. Both beamed at you.

“Happy Christmas!” they exclaimed. You smiled in surprise.

“Merry Christmas to you!” you replied. Harry looked inside the dorm. 

“Can we come in?” he asked.

“Yes, of course, come in,” you said as you opened the door wide open for them.

Both boys stumbled in, taking in their surroundings with a look of awe in their face. 

“ This is your common room?” asked Ron. You almost laughed at his bewildered expression. The sun peeked through the windows, creating visible rays of sun in the room. There was one long, light green sofa in front of the fireplace. Harry sat at the edge whilst the redhead put his feet on the furniture. You stood in front of the fireplace, curious. 

“You took your presents to open them here?” you asked.

“No, no,” Ron replied. “We opened our presents; we just wanted to show you some things.” You found it weird for him to want to show you his presents, but you were not going to judge. As Harry was fumbling with the package in his arms, Ron handed you the piece of cloth he brought. Your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity.

“It’s for you, my mum made it!” he exclaimed. “I told her about the first day, when you stood up against Malfoy… and she thought of making you one.” Your face lit up. He held a big, dark yellow sweater with your initial knitted on it. 

“Ron…” you were at a loss for words. “It’s perfect,” you told him, finally taking the sweater. You removed your current vest and slid on your gift with a smile. You looked at the three of you. “Now we all match!” you said. This earned a snicker from the boys. Harry reopened his package and called out your name.

“Look, I got this gift,” he started, “and the person who gave it to me didn’t sign the note that came with it. They just wrote that it belonged to my father and to use it well…” 

“Do you have any idea of who it could be?” you asked. The boy with glasses shook his head.

“I asked the same question,” Ron confessed. 

“I’ve never known my father, really,” Harry revealed. This made Ron look down and you felt a small pang of pity settle in your heart. You tried changing the subject.

“Does it do anything?” you asked. 

A malicious smile crawled its way onto their faces. Harry got up in front of the fireplace, showcasing the cloak to the two of you. “This cloak–” he started, wrapping it around his body, ”–does something incredible.”

Gradually, right before your eyes, his body vanished. Your eyes widened and Ron laughed at your reaction. You could see everything through Harry, but his uncovered head kept floating above the ground. It was slightly disturbing to watch Harry’s head levitating, but you tried not to comment. 

“What are you going to use it for?” you questioned. The black-haired boy’s smile faltered slightly. He took the cloak off, revealing his body, suddenly solemn.

“I’m going to sneak into the library, like Hermione said. We need to know more about Nicolas Flamel. Tonight .”

This made you sigh. The sound of the heavy snow hitting the windows filled the air as Harry looked at the two of you, as if searching for approval. 

“I mean… I doubt you’ll get caught,” Ron said. 

“You never know,” you replied.

“I won’t,” Harry promised. After a moment of consideration, you made up your mind. You knew that your friend would do it anyway.

“Suit yourself,” you ended up saying. The idea of going with him popped in your mind, but you preferred not messing with him. His story. 

It was not your timeline, you wouldn’t dare change it too much. 

The rest of the day was full of eating, playing, and absolutely zero studying. You could not even muster up the courage to look at the pile of homework resting in your bag. You wanted to spend the day joyfully with your two good friends. 

******************

The three of you wandered in the practically empty halls. You loved discovering new places in school; it made you feel excited. You stopped in front of an old wooden door with a huge copper eagle on top of it. Ron tried opening it, but it did not budge.

“What has an eye, but cannot see?” a voice rang out. 

You, Harry and Ron have been trying to sneak into other houses’ common rooms. You had already visited the Gryffindor dorms and they had just seen the Hufflepuff’s. You deemed it necessary to look at others. 

“What has an eye, but cannot see?” Harry echoed, as if trying to think. He looked at his two friends. 

“A storm, I guess,” you tried. Ron frowned in confusion. “The eye of the storm is what they use to say the middle of it.” The black-haired boy lit up.

“That must be it!” he exclaimed. He repeated your answer, but this time, to the eagle on the door. 

“A storm,” he said. 

You waited for an answer, but nothing came. Ron tried opening the door once again, but in vain. You all groaned in disappointment. 

“It’s not even wrong!” you complained. Technically, you were right. Suddenly, a blonde Ravenclaw appeared in the stairs, marching towards the three of you. Your heart sped up. Were you even allowed to be here? You all watched him stand in front of the door, awaiting the riddle while shooting you condensating looks.

“What has an eye, but cannot see?” the eagle asked. The boy answered with no hesitation.

“A needle.”

The door flung open, letting the teen enter with no problems, quickly shutting after him. The boys held a deadpan expression. 

“This is stupid,” the redhead affirmed. 

“Agreed,” you and Harry replied.

******************

“ WOOOHOOO! ” you screamed as you levitated towards Ron. 

“Slow down!” the black-haired boy yelled from under, holding a rope attached to both you and Ron. The redhead pretended to swim in the air.

“I’m flying! Without a broom!” he exclaimed, laughing in delight. You had both gone back to Quirrell’s office, where the Billywigs stayed, and managed to snatch one. Making it sting was easy, as it was a naturally defensive creature. 

“Ron, hold on to me!” you told him. He grabbed your hands and you used a wall to propel you, causing you and your friend to spin. Although you were extremely dizzy, you enjoyed your time with your friends.

“Stop! You’re going too fast–” Harry complained.

******************

Harry and Ron stood in front of you, arms on their sides in guilt. They looked like kicked puppies. 

“Sorry for not catching you,” the boy with glasses muttered.

“It’s okay, really. I wouldn’t have been able to catch myself either,” you said, laying on the hospital bed, resting. Ron bit the inside of his cheek in culpability. When the spell had worn off, you had used your body as a cushion for Ron, putting yourself in between him and the floor. Luckily, the fall was not fatal.

“Thank you…” the Weasley said.

“Pleasure,” you replied, smiling. He was still a child. You were a child as well, but it was different. You let him keep his innocence. The rest of the day included nothing else but chess and a lot of food shoved down your throats. 

And you did not want it any other way.

******************

26/12/1991

You had arrived at the Great Hall. Usually, you would have gone with Hannah and Susan, but they were both away with their families for the break. Snow fell calmly and the Christmas tree shone above the students. Only around one-fourth of the Hall was occupied. You wore the sweater made by Molly Weasley proudly.

You noticed the Weasley brothers all eating together and Harry sitting alone near the fireplace. You went to see Ron and his family first. 

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, setting yourself down to eat. An echo of “Mornin’” and “hello” made its way to your ears

“Nice sweater,” the twins grinned. You smiled in response.

“Thank you, thank you,” you replied with a drop of shyness. You grabbed whatever you could find for food and looked over to Ron. The poor boy stared at his hands in perplexity. George glanced at his younger brother.

“D’you like yours, Ron?”

No answer.

“Ron?”

“Ron,” you called out to him. His head whipped in your direction. You gave a gesture that asked “What’s wrong?”. The boy kept silent, so as to not disturb his family with his worries, but gestured for you to follow him. You got up, excusing yourselves from the table. 

“We’ll be right back,” the redhead said, setting down his utensils. Percy stared at the two of you as you made a detour to get around the long tables, finally reaching Harry.  You settled on either side of him. The black haired boy sat on the table, facing the fire while You and Ron leaned on the other side of the wooden furniture behind him. It felt almost prickly under your hands. You shared a glance with Ron before he spoke.

“You wanna play chess?”

Silence.

“No,” Harry replied drily. 

“Wanna go visit Hagrid?” Ron asked, trying again. 

“No.”

“Can we know what happened?” you said. The scarred boy turned to you.

“Yesterday, I said I was going to go to the library,” he started. “Well… that night, I went to another room. There was a mirror there, a large one. I looked in it and…I saw my parents.”

The boy looked torn. You just wanted to give him a hug, tell him it will be okay. He went back to looking at the fire. 

“Harry, I know what you’re thinking, but don’t,” Ron warned him. “There’s something not right about that mirror.”

“Ron’s right,” you pressured. Harry looked over his shoulder and your eyes locked. To you, he was being eerie. 

“Do you want me to show you?” This shut you and Ron up for a second.

“You want to show me the mirror?”

“Yes.”

“...When?”

Ron looked at the both of you, growing concerned. He decided to let it go and join his brothers.

******************

The night crawled its way back in the sky. You stood outside of the halls. The corridors held a blue hue to them. The moonlight peeked through windows, making it easier to see. 

Suddenly, your heart jumped to your throat. 

Harry’s head popped out from nothing right before you. He saw your frightened expression and tried to laugh as quietly as possible, taking off his invisibility cloak. 

“Sorry,” he apologised. You ended up laughing with him.

“It’s alright, Harry,” you replied, your fear dissipating.

“You can come under the cloak with me, I’ll lead the way.” You nodded.

After an awful lot of stepping on each other’s feet and holding your breath as a prefect passed by, you were finally led to a cold, unrenovated room. It looked as if nobody had stepped a foot in that place in a very long time. Pillars were spread unevenly everywhere and, in the corner, you could see the infamous mirror. It looked dirty and more than twice your size. Harry took off the cloak. 

“There it is,” he whispered. You two cautiously marched towards the furniture piece. “You just stand in front of it, and it will show you something.” You were quite unsure of stepping in front of it. Would you be disappointed if you found out what you really wanted? Would you be happy? Would you try to chase it? “When I look… I see my parents next to me. What do you think it means?” There was a moment of silence in which you did not know how to respond.

“Back again, Harry?” a voice rang. The two of you whipped your head in the noise’s direction. There stood Dumbledore. His long, white hair looked almost blue in the light and his black robe made him look intimidating. He also called out your name, acknowledging your presence. “I see that you, like so many before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised…” he said, beginning to waltz towards you. “I trust, by now, you realise what it does.” He stopped in front of the both of you. “Let me give you a clue–” he raised a finger, “–The happiest man on earth… would look into the mirror and only see himself exactly as he is.”

“So then, it shows us what we want. Whatever we want,” Harry concluded. You spoke up.

“Mirror of Erised… Reversed for Mirror of Desire?”

“Yes, no and yes,” Dumbledore said, making you smile. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. Now you, Harry, who have never known your family… You see them standing beside you. But remember… This mirror gives us neither knowledge or truth,” he made sure to get this point across. The boy started looking into the mirror once again. “Men have wasted away in front of it. Even gone mad. That is why, tomorrow, it will be moved to a new home.” Harry frowned and stared at Dumbledore again, gulping. “And I must ask you not to go looking for it again… It does not do to dwell on dreams, you two, and forget to live.”

The black-haired boy looked down once again and back into the mirror. You felt pity for him. Dumbledore said your name.

“Have you looked?” he said. You shook your head.

“No, sir.”

“Good.” With that, he spun around and left, leaving the two of you alone. Harry looked at you. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to look?” You considered it, but you saw the effect it had on Harry. You did not want it to happen to you. Although you were extremely curious, you had to restrain yourself.

“Let’s go, now,” you said. Your friend nodded in understanding, leading you back to your dorm. You wanted to see what your biggest desire was, what you truly wanted, but you left it alone. 

You left with nobility. 

The walk back was silent, but not awkward. You were thinking the whole way back, and it was mutual. He let you off with a small wave and so did you.

Chapter Text

18/05/1992

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling levitated in front of you as you took notes on the library desk. Hermione sat before you, a huge book in her hands. You recognised it: it was the book in which she would find the information about Nicolas Flamel. You could not really focus on what you studied. Finals were coming and, although Hogwarts was fun, you pressured yourself to get good grades. Your parents were strangely adamant about your report card.

Hermione suddenly gasped and tapped your arms repeatedly, repeating your name.

“What’s wrong?” you asked her, eyebrows furrowed.

“I had Harry look in the wrong section!” she exclaimed. “Look–” she flipped the book over for you to see. You tossed your manual away. “–there. It says: Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Sorcerer’s Stone!” You played your role, pretending that you were not aware. 

“Isn’t it that stone that makes you immortal?”

“Yes, it makes an elixir that grants the drinker immortality,” her eyes lit up once again and she leaned in to talk to you. You replicated her actions, looking around to see if anyone could eavesdrop. The library was practically empty. “I’m sure that’s what Fluffy’s guarding. It’s probably under the trap door we saw,” she whispered in determination. 

“We should go tell Harry and Ron,” you murmured. The girl agreed. 

You both gathered your things and left with haste. 

The boys were casually playing chess in the Great Hall until you and Hermione caught up to them, explaining the entire ordeal. You panted and your heart beat at a concerning pace. You could not focus on what she said as you caught your breath. All you knew was that Harry and Ron were on their feet and following a rushing Hermione.

It was cold out. The four of you were running towards a grey, rocky hut. It was small and the pointy roof tilted slightly. 

Hagrid’s hut. 

Harry knocked vigorously with his small hand on the door. The entry finally opened, revealing the half-giant on the other side. 

“Hagrid–” the boy with glasses started.

“Oh, hello, sorry, don’t mean to be rude, but I’m in no fit state to entertain today,” the tall man with a gruff voice replied hastily, preparing to shut the door.

“We know about the Sorcerer’s Stone!” Harry, Hermione and Ron said at the same time, catching you off guard. Hagrid reopened the door, stiff. 

“Oh.”

He walked in his living room and you followed behind him. His hut was small, but it held a lot of warmth. The heat coming from his fireplace enveloped you in a comforting embrace. The place looked old. Candles were scattered everywhere and the sofas were few. However, it was still a home. 

You did not even realise how tense you were. You relaxed your shoulders and recovered from the run. Everyone settled on couches, Ron sitting next to a big, black dog you have not noticed until a second ago. You stood in the room, leaning on a wooden table.

“We think Snape’s trying to steal it,” Harry told the man.

“Snape? Blimey, you’re not still on about him, are ya?” 

“Hagrid, we know he’s after the stone. We just don’t know why.”

“Snape is one of the teachers protecting the stone,” Hagrid revealed. “He’s not about to steal it.”

“What–” 

“You heard… Right. Come on, now. I’m a bit preoccupied today–” he said, looking slightly distressed and in a hurry. However, Harry spoke again.

“Wait a minute… ‘One of the teachers’?”

“Of course!” Hermione interjected. “There are other things defending the stone, aren’t there? Spells, enchantments…” She got distracted by seeing the dog lick Ron’s face, displaying a disgusted expression.

“That’s right. Waste of bloody time, if you ask me. Ain’t no one gonna get past Fluffy” the man chuckled. “Ain’t a soul knows how– except for me and Dumbledore.” He stopped moving and dissociated for a second. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I should not have told you that.”

Suddenly, a sound came from the fireplace he had been hiding behind his body. He turned around quickly, making concern flood in your friends. Hagrid reached down to a bucket hovering above a fire and took out an ovoid object, bringing it to the table on which you leaned on. The things must have been burning, judging from the way the giant let out small cries holding it. You got out of the way and looked at it closely, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione. 

“Hagrid, what exactly is that?” Harry asked. 

“That? It’s uh… It’s um…”

“I know what that is!” Ron exclaimed. “But Hagrid, how did you get one?”

“I won it! Off a stranger I met down at the pub–” he frowned, “–seemed quite glad to get rid of it, as a matter of fact…”

The egg began moving and everyone stepped back slightly. You spoke up.

“So you got both this and Fluffy off strangers in pubs? I’m starting to question what it is that you do, over there,” you remarked, truly curious about Hagrid. Hermione subconsciously nodded, agreeing. 

Your heart jumped as pieces from the egg began flying everywhere. You had covered your face with your arms but, slowly, you lowered them. There sat on the broken a small, grey creature. It had a round face but a skinny body. Its wings, thin and long, spread out. The animal let out a small squeak as it stumbled on the table.

“Is that…” Hermione started. 

“That’s a dragon,” you said. Seeing one through your own eyes made you feel an inexplicable amount of adrenaline. “That’s a real dragon–”

“That’s not just a dragon. That’s a Norwegian Ridgeback,” Ron informed you. “My brother Charlie works with these in Romania…”

“Isn’t he beautiful!” Hagrid’s voice boomed. “Oh bless, him–” The creature looked at him, “–Look, he knows his mummy!” The man laughed and began tickling the creature with his big hands. “Hello, Norbert!” 

“Norbert?” Harry asked, judging the name Hagrid gave the creature. 

“Yeah, well, he’s gotta have a name, don’t he? Don’t you, Norbert?” He made small tickle noises as he waved his fingers at the dragon. 

Suddenly, the creature let out a cough, sending flames directly into Hagrid's beard. The giant’s eyes widened and he patted down his thick, long beard in hopes of extinguishing the fire. You jumped.

“Are you okay?” you asked, approaching the man, ready to help.

“Oh, I’m alright, kid. He’ll have to be trained up a bit, of course,” the man tried laughing off. All of your faces except his twisted in worry.

Hagrid squinted.

“Who’s that?” he questioned, looking at the window. You followed his eyes. 

“Malfoy,” the black-haired boy affirmed in a strong tone of hatred. Hagrid’s eyes flashed dread.

“Oh dear…” You felt the worry radiate off the man’s heart.

“I’m sure he won’t do anything too bad… right?” you said in an attempt to comfort the half-giant. He winced at this comment. “And if he does, I’m sure we’ll get out of trouble.” 

“It’s true,” Harry joined in. “We’ll be fine.”

“Listen, you four, I think it’s best for yall to go head to bed. I don’t wanna cause no more trouble for you…”

“Don’t worry, Hagrid,” you started as you walked back to the door, followed by your three other friends. You all got outside and you held the doorknob in between your fingers. “I’m sure you’ll be alright,” you finished, shutting the door. You and your friends walked back towards the castle. 

“Hagrid always wanted a dragon. He told me so the first time I met him,” Harry said.

“It’s crazy,” Ron commented. “And worse, Malfoy knows.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” you asked. The redhead looked at you.

“Something really bad.” As he said this, the four of you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Good evening,” a strict, raspy voice spoke. 

The Deputy Headmistress stood there, a frustrated look resting on her face. Her eyes wandered on the three students and rested on you. She frowned slightly. She did not expect you to break school rules. 

Draco appeared behind her, a grin on his face.

“I want all of you in my office. Follow me,” she demanded. Quickly, she turned her back to you and, with a collective sigh, you tailed Mcgonagall. “Nothing, I repeat, nothing gives a student the right to walk about the school at night. Therefore, as punishment for your actions, fifty points will be taken,” she said as you all reached her desk. Gasps came out of your friends’ mouths. 

“ Fifty ?” Harry emphasised. 

“Each,” Mcgonagall added, which sent all of you in a daze. Your heart dropped. Malfoy, who stared at your bewildered looks, seemed to enjoy himself. 

“And to ensure it doesn’t happen again… All five of you will receive detention.”

Draco’s face fell. “Excuse me professor,” he said. “Perhaps I heard you wrong. I thought you said the five of us–”

“No, you heard me correctly, Mr Malfoy. You see, as honourable as your intentions were, you too were out of bed after hours. You will join your classmates in detention.”

You and your friends smiled in contentment. Draco was stupid for telling on Mcgonagall and you found it funny. He proved himself to be extremely naive, and you loved it. 

“I have called for Argus Filch to take you to detention. He will arrive shortly. For now, you may sit and wait,” the professor said. Quietly, you obliged and all took a seat at the desks. 

In any normal setting, you would have been ashamed of yourself. However, you and your friends found pleasure in looking at Malfoy. He looked devastated and almost furious at everyone. 

Mcgonagall’s office door opened to reveal Filch on the other side, as grumpy as ever. He was almost repulsive. The few hairs he had went down past his shoulders and his clothes gave him a withered look. He held a lamp above his head and let out a grunt.

“Mr Filch,” the professor greeted, “I reckon you know what to do.” The man let out a small, croaky “yes”. Filch began leading you out of the castle, into what you knew would be the Forbidden Forest. You were scared at the idea of it, but you acknowledged the fact that nothing bad will happen to comfort yourself. On the other hand, your classmates looked frightened. 

“A pity they let the old punishments die,” the squib said, making you throw a look of concern towards Harry, who did the same to you. “There was a time detention would find you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons. God I miss the screaming…” Ron looked petrified. You all approached the half-giant’s hut. “You’ll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight.” As he said this, the said man got out of his house holding a lantern and what seemed to be an umbrella and a crossbow, approaching the five of you. “He’s got a little job to do inside the Dark Forest.”

The way he spoke those words sent a shiver down your spine. He continued his speech.

“A sorry lot, this, Hagrid.” He noticed the other man’s dejected expression. “Oh, good God, man, you’re not still on about that bloody dragon, are you?” Hagrid lowered his gaze and fixed the umbrella in his hands.

“Norbert’s gone… Dumbledore sent him off to Romania to live in a colony.” 

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? He’ll be with his own kind,” Hermione’s high voice rang. Hagrid straightened his posture and looked at you all in a slightly intimidating way.

“Yeah, but what if he don’t like Romania? What if the other dragons are mean to him? He’s only a baby after all…” Hagrid spoke with his heart. He loved that dragon and you felt bad for his loss. It felt like your fault. If you had stopped your friends from seeing him, he would not have faced this problem. Filch rolled his eyes.

“Oh, for God’s sake, pull yourself together, man. You’re going into the forest after all. Got to have your wits about you,” the squib said. The more he spoke, the more disgusted you were with him. He was unimaginably nasty.

“The Forest?” Draco spoke, “I thought that was a joke. We can’t go in there–” Filch slowly turned to the child, eerie. “–Students aren’t allowed and there are…” he tried making everyone understand without saying the words. Filch’s face contorted in confusion, and the blonde gave up on hinting at it. “...werewolves.” 

Harry and Ron were petrified and you felt a pang of anxiety. 

“There’s more than werewolves in those trees, lad,” the ugly man said. “You can be sure of that…” The atmosphere became sinister, almost morbid. “Nighty-night,” Filch spoke in a mocking sing-song voice, leaving you five with Hagrid whilst he walked back to the castle. The sound of your heart pounding made its way into your ears. You even thought you could feel your neck and hands pulsating from anxiety. 

“Right… let’s go,” Hagrid said, almost reluctantly. His dog came out of the house. He was big, especially compared to your now smaller body, and left a trail of drool everywhere he went. 

The man marched towards the dense forest and all you could do was follow him. Nervosity settled in your stomach and your hands began to sweat. It was dark out and fog hovered above the ground, blurring your vision. Your friends became nothing but a shape in the heavy mist. You felt a hand grip onto yours. 

Hermione.

She was scared, you could see it. She frantically looked around, checking for any danger as Hagrid led you deeper in the vast land. The said man suddenly stopped in his step and bent down, his arm reaching for the grass. With his fingers, he scooped up a white, silver liquid and examined it. 

“Hagrid… What is that?” Harry asked.

“What’s we’re here for. See that?” he showed you the substance, “That’s unicorn blood, that is. I found one dead a few weeks ago. Now, this one’s been hurt bad by something–”

Hermione’s grip on your hand tightened. 

“–So, it’s our job to go and find the poor beast. Ron, Hermione, you’ll come with me,” he said. He pointed to you and followed, “And Harry, you two will go with Malfoy.” Harry nodded. You, on the other hand, did not want to stick to someone who was not Hagrid. He was the only person you would feel safe with in this situation. Malfoy spoke up.

“Okay. Then I get Fang,” he told the man, referring to his dog. 

“Fine. Just so you know, he’s a bloody coward.” the dog let out an innocent growl to this comment. “Alright, yall go that way–” he pointed to the three of you and a direction, “–and we’ll be making your way there,” he gestured to the opposite way. “Alright, let’s get a move on. You three be careful,” he said, handing Malfoy a lantern and turning his back. Hermione let go of your hand and you told the pair farewell, following the blonde and black-haired duo. 

The woods were quiet apart from the leaves crunching against your steps and the occasional rustling of trees. The blue air filled you with a sense of fear. You felt so meek in this forest. Harry stayed close to you the entire time. Draco tripped on a branch, but caught himself. He groaned.

“You wait till my father hears about this. This is servant’s stuff,” the blonde said. 

“This is what detention is all about,” you replied. Harry hummed in agreement and spoke up in a defying tone.

“I bet you’re just scared, Malfoy.”

“I’m not scared,” he replied. A heavy groan came from behind the three of you, making your heart jump. Draco quickly whipped his head in many directions, holding the lantern high. “Did you hear that?” he asked frantically. Although your heart beat from fear, a laugh escaped your mouth. Harry looked at you. Seeing your smile made his admiration for you grow. 

How could you laugh at a time like this?

“Come on, Fang,” Draco commanded the dog. “‘Scared’,” he then scoffed under his breath, mimicking the other boy’s claims.

All of you travelled further in the dark forest in complete silence. After what seemed to be an eternity, you had forgotten what you were looking for. You could not focus on the task at hand and your mind wandered to other places. You have thought about the people you knew in your world. How they were doing, if you had gone missing, and many other things you knew you would not know soon. It made you feel powerless. Your train of thought came to a halt as you heard Malfoy’s voice.

“What is it, Fang?” 

Reality dawned on you and you were petrified. Ahead laid a small, white horse on the dirt. A unicorn. A black, caped figure was hunched over the creature. The hooded person’s face crept awfully close to the unicorn’s neck. Slowly, the figure looked up to you and growled, silver liquid dripping from the corners of its mouth. 

Horrible.

Draco screamed and quickly turned to run away along with the dog. Meanwhile, Harry groaned in paint, putting a hand over his scar. You felt your legs become heavy.

“Harry, are you okay?” you almost shouted. He panted.

“I–I’m fine, I’m fine,” he repeated. You both looked back at the figure. Suddenly, it slithered your way, standing up. Your heart pounded. You set a protective hand in front of Harry, putting yourself in between him and the figure. You knew no harm would be done, but terror still crawled its way in you. Your stomach churned and you felt Harry quiver behind you. You moved back along with the boy as the figure made its way towards him. 

A large cracking noise resonated as Harry stumbled over a branch. Falling, you caught him just in time and made him stand up. The boy gripped onto your arms, breath hitching and pulse beating extremely fast. 

“ What do we do ?” he stuttered out.

“Just wait–” you replied, interrupted by the awaited saviour.

Just then, big hoofs appeared above you, flying its way towards the figure. It was a centaur. The creature ran towards the hooded man, scaring him off. You and Harry slowly parted, heartbeats slowing down. Your eyes were fixated on the magical being. The centaur came back to you, eyeing you with a cynical expression.

“Harry Potter. You are known to many creatures here,” he said, approaching, “The Forest is not safe at this time. Especially not for you… and I advise you to stay away from newcomers ,” he said, shooting you a dirty look. Harry shifted in discomfort at the way he talked about you.

“What was that thing you saved us from?” the concerned boy asked. The centaur replied with spite.

“A monstrous creature. It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking the blood of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure… that from the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life.”

“But who would choose such a life?” To his response, you nudged his arm with your elbow. The boy’s eyes darted to you and you gestured to his scar.

“Voldemort?” he asked. The half-man came close to the two of you and spoke in a hushed tone.

“Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment, Mr. Potter?”

The boy’s eyes widened.

“The Sorcerer’s Stone…” 

You heard your name and Harry’s being called in the distance. You turned around to see Hagrid running towards you with your friends and Draco, holding a crossbow. The big man stopped upon the sight of you and caught his breath.

“Hello there, Firenze. See you’ve met our young Mr. Potter. You alright there, you two?” 

You and Harry nodded.

“Harry Potter,” the centaur addressed, “This is where I leave you. You’re safe now… Good luck.”

The centaur, with a slight bow, turned around and marched off, leaving you with the others. 

“Alright, I think it’s best for y'all to go back,” Hagrid’s gruff voice was heard, “It’s almost midnight and you’ve seen too much.”

Everyone started to get a move on except Harry, who clutched onto his green scarf, still processing what happened. Slowly, you reached for his hand and slipped your fingers between his, making him snap back to reality. He looked at you, his gaze tender.

“Thank you,” he whispered, letting himself be guided by you through the Forest as you followed Hagrid. 

“It’s nothing, trust me,” you comforted the boy. In that moment, you could not help but feel like you were taking him under your wing. As you walked, Ron and Hermione ahead of you, Harry stared at you.

“How did you know?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Know what?”

“To wait… When I asked you what we should do when that thing attacked us, you told me we had to wait. How did you know?”

You stayed silent at his question. You had no idea what to do with everything you knew. 

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” you replied.

You could not even come up with a bad excuse. What were you supposed to do in this situation? There was another long silence. You all reached the end of the Forest, where Hagrid’s hut stood.

“I trust you know where to go, now,” he said. You all nodded, making your way to the castle. The black-haired boy whispered your way.

“Do you think it’s Voldemort who’s going for the Stone through Snape?” 

“I don’t think Snape is in this scheme at all,” you replied. 

“What? Why?”

“I don’t think he’s that type of man.”

Harry scoffed at this. “Not that type of man”? To him, that was a preposterous claim. 

“I’m sure,” you replied. 

You all reached inside the castle. It was cold in and out of the castle, making you shiver. You bid goodbye to your friends and marched towards your dorm, drowsiness taking over you.

Chapter Text

22/05/1992

The potions classroom reeked of a new odour and it stinged your nostrils in the best way possible. You could only describe it as the air you could smell on a cool summer’s day. It lightened up the atmosphere in the dark, uncomfortable classroom.

As you walked in, Snape took a double look at you and let out a small groan of displeasure. 

You did not understand: you have been acing his class. He should have been grateful that you paid attention along with Hermione and Draco, because no one else did. You sat down, waiting for the class to start. People were already seated. 

You spotted Harry and Ron in a heated discussion and Hermione next to them, her nose stuck in her book. 

“How many Beaters have you seen win a match by catching one Snitch ?” Harry argued. 

“Seeker is a good position, but Beaters have more responsibility!” Ron clapped back.

“Are you saying I have no responsibilities?”

“No! Every player does, I just think Beater is the best position!”

“A match could be won without Beaters.”

“And one could also be won without Seekers–”

“Good afternoon to you too,” you said, sitting next to the pair. Ron called out to you.

“Which is better: Beater or Seeker?” You contemplated before answering.

“Everyone knows it’s Keeper.”

“ What ?” the black-haired boy uttered. As he said this, the professor walked up behind the four of you.

“Ew,” the other said, putting on a disgusted face. 

Suddenly, Snape slammed his scroll on your desk, capturing your attention.

“I will not allow endless bickering in my class,” he groaned, shooting everyone a dirty look. The man walked back to his desk and addressed the entire group. “We will commence early today. Page one hundred and seventy three, the Exstimulo Potion takes two hours to brew, therefore you will be accompanied by another classmate–”

Nott, who sat in front of you, looked at you over his shoulder. You saw him from the corner of your eye and smiled. 

“–You may go to your stations. I also consider it a necessity to remind some of you that this work is evaluated and part of your final exam. Bungle, and you will see yourself with work over the summer.”

The loud sound of stools clanking and rustling invaded the room. Chatter rose and Nott hurried to occupy a station, already gathering ingredients. You put on the necessary equipment to handle the potion, joining the boy.

“Need me to take the reins on that one?” he said.

“Never,” you teased. 

Soon enough, the two of you began working. Your friend prepared the dry ingredients as you got started on the liquid. You had a textbook wide open in between the two of you, diligently following the steps. You remembered seeing this potion in a book you read over Christmas break, but this one was slightly off.  It told you to use Begonia roots, but you knew for a fact that you had to use Bitter root. 

You looked at Nott, who had not touched his flower yet. Then, you glanced at the ingredient containers. 

You hesitated. Would it be better to follow the recipe or do the right thing? Would Snape be mad? You sighed before making up your mind, grabbing your friend’s ingredient before heading towards the cabinets, retrieving the plant you wanted. Nott saw you come back with the plant in your hands, his face twisted in confusion. 

“What are you doing?”

“Use this instead, it will work better. Trust me,” you said, handing him the Bitter Roots. Nott inspected the plant in his hands, unsure. “If it turns out bad, I’ll give you one galleon.” This got his attention. He smirked and looked at you.

“I’m going to need more than a silly galleon for this,” he replied. 

“Three,” you bet. You were sure of yourself and Nott could see it. He pretended to contemplate for a second.

“Have it your way then,” he said, making you beam at him. 

After two hours of excruciating potion brewing, your potion shined a desired bright blue. You and Nott looked over at other students’ concoctions. Most of them glowed of a duller shade of blue, some were almost indigo. Hermione’s and Neville’s potion, on the other hand, was bright compared to the rest. However, you still had the pride to say that yours looked better. You looked over to Nott and your heart warmed at the sight of him. His hands resting on his waist, a big smile was stretched onto his face. He stared at the potion, pride swallowing him whole. His eyes practically sparkled. 

“This is good,” he started. “This is really good…”

“Does that mean I can keep my galleons?” you replied, smirking.

“At this point, I should be giving you galleons for this. This is just– wow,” he scoffed, mimicking a mind-blown expression with his hands. He crossed his arms, brows furrowing. “How did you know?”

“I read it some time ago in a more advanced book. I just thought it would be good to try.”

“You can read?” 

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Theodore,” you fake laughed. 

“Theo."

“...What?”

“My friends call me Theo.” you grinned.

“Alright then, Theo.”

The timing was perfect as Snape’s dull voice boomed across the classroom.

“Any team with an incomplete potion by now will earn a noteworthy failure,” he started, taking out a textured, leather notebook from his desk. “When I call your station number, you will bring me your cauldron.” You looked at your number.

Station 5

Slowly, stations were being called. Everyone stared at Snape’s desk, where stood the people getting. Eventually, Harry and Ron were invited up front. Their potion was almost green and it bubbled without rest.

 It looked horrible. 

The grading system in this place was weird to you. It was O for “Outstanding”, E for “Exceeds expectations”, A for “Acceptable”, P for “Poor”, D for “Dreadful”, and finally, T for “Troll”. Despite this, you were not surprised when they were handed a notorious T, making them fail miserably. 

“I did not expect anything else from the both of you,” the teacher commented. Both boys walked back to their stations, heads hanging low. Harry cleaned the pot while Ron leaned on the counter, head in his hands in disappointment. 

Hermione and Neville were called next. The quality of their potion made a few students jealous, even Snape raised his eyebrows. However, Hermione still wanted to cry once he gave her an E for Excellent . 

Then came Draco and Pansy. The professor did not bother looking at their potion before dipping his quill in ink and writing a big, perfect E on their paper.

“Excellent, as always,” he said, making his students smirk. Snape called onto two other teams before he made your heart jump.

The black-haired man said you and Nott’s name, calling you forward. You let out a breath and Nott patted your back as he picked up the cauldron. Marching towards the teacher, you felt your thoughts race. You did not follow the recipe, but you knew your potion was correct. You knew it was right. While you went up to Snape’s desk, you could feel how tight your collar fit, how uncomfortable it was to stand in your shoes, everything. The cold, stone floor felt especially hard under your feet. 

You and Nott arrived in front of the class. The boy placed the cauldron on the desk, waiting for the man’s comments. Time seemed to pass by so slowly.

Snape looked over at the potion and did a trouble take, his eyebrows practically knitting. He looked down, then at you. 

He sighed and dipped his quill in ink. 

O... Outstanding.

You wanted to celebrate like there was no tomorrow. You looked at Nott and he looked back, beaming at each other. 

“See me after class,” Snape’s monotonous voice was heard. The two of you nodded and went back to your seats with the cauldron, cleaning your station. Before you could cast a cleaning spell, Hermione snuck up next to you while Snape evaluated other students.

“What did you do?” she whispered, confused. You did not want to draw attention by speaking, so you took your textbook. Her gaze followed your moves as you took out your quill and striked out the words “Begonia roots” in the ingredients, replacing it with “Bitter roots”. She looked over your shoulder and opened her own book at hand, replacing the information. “Why wouldn’t he tell us that?” she complained. You shrugged in response. “Well, thank you.”

“No problem,” you said as she waltzed back to her station. Nott waited for her to get far enough to speak.

“What could Snape possibly want to tell us after class?” 

“I have no idea,” you confessed.

“Are we in trouble?” You scoffed at this.

“Are you serious? He loved our potion, clearly. He’s not going to punish us, or else our grade would have shown it.” He let out an “oh” and nodded in understanding. The rest of the class was spent by tossing around a crumpled ball of paper. You two were bored, but satisfied.

Soon enough, the bell rang and everyone marched out of the class. Everyone except you and Nott. Walking to Snape’s desk, he called your names in his signature monotonous voice. 

“I will abstain from making a lecture. In many years of teaching, I have not seen students quite reach your… level,” the man started, propping his elbows on the table, intertwining his hands. “I want to make a proposition: I am willing to tutor those who have an interest in pursuing potions…” he eyed the both of you. 

You processed his words and you wondered if you should consider it. You had a pensive look on your face whilst Nott, on the other hand, looked like he would want nothing more. You did enjoy other subjects, but you excelled at Potions and Herbology.

“I’m in,” he said. Snape turned to face you. He looked more rigid now that he was not looking at a Slytherin.

“I want to,” you told him. The man raised his eyebrows.

“Well, then. When the next year starts, I will send you two the meeting times by owl.”

“Thank you, professor,” you beamed. 

As you turned around to leave the class, you could see a hint of a smile making its way onto the teacher’s face. 

It made you proud.

******************

Your moment of glory was over as you were stuck in the Great Hall during lunch, studying. You sat next to Hermione while Ron and Harry were in front of you. A transfiguration book floated in front of you as you did exercises on a scarce piece of paper. You took note to start bringing pens to school and secretly use them because quills were awfully impractical. Dipping the feather in ink restlessly got tiring fast.

 Everyone except Ron were revising for their final exams. You even saw Percy help other first years with their work. 

Suddenly, a familiar white owl landed on a pile of books. 

“Hi Hedwig,” Harry greeted. Hermione looked over at Ron and scoffed.

“Look at you, playing with your cards. Pathetic! We’ve got final exams coming up soon.” Harry glanced between them, then you. You shared a look, trying to stop yourselves from smiling. 

“I’m ready. Ask me any question,” the redhead replied, overconfident. 

“Alright, what are the three most crucial ingredients in a Forgetfulness potion?” 

“...I forgot.”

“And what, may I ask, do you plan to do if this comes up at the final exam?” 

“Copy off you,” Ron sassily snapped back.

“ No, you won’t !” the girl exclaimed. “Besides, according to Professor McGonagall, we’re to be given special quills bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.” Ron’s face twisted in discontempt. 

“That’s insulting! It’s as if they don’t trust us!” he complained. The boy opened another chocolate frog, revealing the card. “Dumbledore again!”

You laughed to yourself, continuing your endeavours. However, the sound of loud, slow footsteps captured your attention. You looked over at the origin of the sound and saw Neville, jumping to your direction. 

“Leg-Locker curse?” Ron asked.

“Malfoy,” Harry accused. 

“Poor him,” you added. 

The boy stopped next to you, leaning on the table to stable himself. The redhead spoke up.

“You have got to start standing up to people, Neville.”

“How? I can barely stand at all!” Dean Thomas laughed at Neville’s words. You shot him a strict look and his face fell. 

“I’ll do the countercurse!” Seamus volunteered, standing up and taking out his wand, smiling. You saw fear wash over Neville.

“No, that’s all I need! You to set my bloody kneecaps on fire!” Seamus clenched his jaw and slammed his wand down on the table.

“I don’t appreciate the insinuation, Longbottom! Besides, if anyone cared to notice, my eyebrows have completely grown back!” Seamus turned around to leave, angry. By doing so, he revealed a huge bald spot he had on the back of his head from a previous explosion he had made in charms. Many students giggled at this. You could not stand watching Neville bear this any longer.

“Come here, Neville, I’ll help you,” you said, taking out your silver wand from its case. He paled at the sight of it.

“Why is it so sharp?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I think I will worry about it, thank you–”

You quickly casted the spell, swishing your wand three times clockwise. A purple jet was thrown directly towards Neville’s legs, allowing them to separate. You quickly put your wand back in its case.

“Thank you, thank you!” the boy kept saying. 

You smiled at him, letting him scurry off to his dorm. 

“I bet he had never been this grateful to be able to use his legs,” you commented. 

“Reminds me of that one time the twins paralyzed my left leg,” Ron croaked out. You all stared at him. “Long story,” he dismissed.

Unexpectedly, your owl came for you. The sight of it was incredibly rare to you. 

“Since when do you have an owl?” Ron asked. You shot him a deadpan look as you took the letter attached to its leg. You opened it, eager to read. 

Hello, honey! Me and your father hope your first year has not been too harsh on you. We got your report card and we must say that you are doing exceptionally well! I can not believe it. 

I know that it is the end of the year, but that does not mean you can slack on your studies just now. One last push and the year is over!

Say hi to your friends for me.

With love,

Your mother

PS: Do you have access to the news there? Did you see what happened this Christmas? I am so relieved!

You frowned at this letter, stuffing it in your pocket. 

“What was it?” Harry questioned, concerned.

“My parents,” you replied. “What happened this Christmas?” you asked. Ron and Harry stayed silent as Hermione’s eyes widened. 

“Do you not know?” You shrugged in response. “The Cold War’s over,” she revealed. You and Harry’s faces lit up in surprise. Ron, on the other hand, was confused. 

“What’s the Cold War?” Hermione was quick to explain everything to him. The concept of nuclear weapons seemed to send Ron in a spiral of worry. Reading the letter again, you realised you were growing tired of how, whenever they sent you one, they mostly talked about your grades. Even if they praised you, you felt a pressure on your shoulders for you to be excellent. 

******************

The wind blew against your face as you leaned on the railing. Now that it was summer, the sun set later. You had the chance to see the castle as the light began hiding, making space for the night to come.

You spent the rest of the night pondering at the sky, wondering why you were sent here. You knew Harry would have his first encounter with Voldemort soon, and you felt a need to be there for him. You sighed as you watched the landscape turn dark and blue.

The moon began to show itself, bathing the place in its light. The moon and sun were the only things you truly recognised in this place, and you had grown to find peace in the sight of it. You had spent a lot of nights on the Astronomy Tower, confessing your worries away to it. Shining bright above you, it made you feel comforted.

Chapter Text

29/06/1992

Exams were a breeze. That was an opinion you and Hermione shared. 

They were certainly intimidating. Sitting at a desk for three hours to complete a herbology exam was not the merriest of memories. You remember the cold stone under your feet, the uncomfortable, hard chair you sat on and the dry paper resting in front of you, its questions written on a typewriter. The hardest exam was transfiguration by far, and most students seemed to agree. You were fine with algebra and arithmancy, but that was with a calculator. An exam paper of this topic usually ended up with a thousand calculations scribbled everywhere, unerasable. It was another thing you did not like: you could only use ink. It was a hassle. 

You walked along with Harry, Ron and Hermione outside the courtyard. The grass was greener than you have ever seen it. Despite the warm weather, students were still told to wear their robes and sweaters. 

“I’ve always heard Hogwarts’ end of the year exams were frightful, but I found that rather enjoyable,” Hermione told you. Ron’s face twisted in disgust.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied. Harry’s hand quickly came up to his forehead, brows furrowed. “You alright there, Harry?”

“My scar, it keeps burning.”

“It’s happened before…” the girl pondered. 

“Not like this,” he groaned. 

“Perhaps you should see the nurse,” the redhead proposed. 

“I think it’s a warning. It means danger’s coming…" There was a slight pause as the four of you marched your way out of the school grounds. You saw Hagrid, sitting near his hut, playing what seemed to be a recorder. He was awful. The sounds he made were enough to pierce your ears. “Of course!”

“What is it?” Hermione asked. You started marching faster towards the giant.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one? I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets? Why didn’t I see it before?” Harry sounded angry at himself. You all rushed towards the man, robes flowing behind you. You arrived in front of the man and the black-haired boy spoke up.

“Hagrid–” he called, making the tall man notice him, “–who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?” Hagrid’s gruff voice echoed in your ears.

“I dunno, I never saw his face. He kept his hood up,” he informed.

“The stranger, though, you and he must have talked?”

“Well… he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him: ‘After Fluffy, a dragon’s gonna be no problem’,” he laughed. 

“And did he seem interested in Fluffy?” 

“Well of course he was interested in Fluffy! How often do you come across a three-headed dog, even if you’re in the trade? But I told him– I said, ‘The trick with any beast is to know how to calm him.’ Take Fluffy for example. Just play him a bit of music and he falls straight to sleep,” he told you. This earned a gasp from Hermione, and Hagrid realised his mistake. “I shouldn’t have told you that…” Suddenly, Harry turned away and ran towards the castle. You, Ron and Hermione all glanced at each other before following him. “Where are ya going? Wait!”

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you navigated in the hallways. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of running, you reached McGonagall’s office, where you also saw the ghost of Nearly Headless Nick sitting in one of the students’ desks. You all reached her desk at the same time, startling the woman.

“We have to see Professor Dumbledore,” Harry exclaimed, “Immediately!” The teacher, confused, stared at all of you.

“I’m afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here… He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately for London–” Harry cut her off.

“He’s gone?  Now ? But it’s important! This is about the Sorcerer’s Stone!” The teacher’s face fell and a silence ruled over the place.

“How do you know…”

“Someone’s going to try and steal it!” the boy revealed. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t know how you four found out about the stone, but I assure you it is perfectly well protected.” This made you frown.

“The fact that we know about it shows how unprotected it is,” you pointed out. The woman took a moment to reflect before slowly whispering. 

“Would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly.”

You could feel your friends’ moods brought down. You all took your time to exit the classroom, heads hanging low. Although it was good to tell McGonagall about the stone, you still felt as if you did something wrong by the tone of her voice. Harry was irritated as he turned to the three of you.

“That was no stranger Hagrid met in the village. It was Snape! Which means, he knows how to get past Flu–” you had grown tired of your friends blaming Snape all the time. Although he was harsh with you, you knew he had done nothing wrong. You could not prove it, but you could convince your friends with trust.

“–For the last time, Snape’s not the culprit! Think about it: He has worked here for years. If he wanted to stone, he would have gotten to it earlier–” 

“I’m tired of you telling us it’s not him!” exclaimed Harry, clearly too agitated to think before speaking. “How could you say that?”

“I’m trying to help–”

“You’re not helping!” 

None of you could speak at that moment. Harry’s words were almost spiteful. He had been particularly rude to you, and after a moment of silence, he realised what he had just said. As the four of you paused, you heard a familiar, dull voice boom.

“Good afternoon…” the black-haired man spoke, looking down at all of you. “Now what would three young Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff such as yourselves be doing inside on a day like this?” Snape himself gazed at Hermione, raising an eyebrow. He waited for an answer. The girl stuttered.

“We… we were just–”

“You ought to be careful,” he cut her off, “People will think you’re… up to something… ” he stared at all of you and, before walking away, turned to you. “And Thompson, do not forget to pay me a visit tomorrow after the feast. Pass the message to Mr. Nott.” 

The professor’s cape flew behind him, distancing himself from the four of you as Hermione faced you, suspicious. “Why does he want to see you?” You realised what ideas could be flashing across her mind. She might be thinking that you’re plotting with Snape by the way he spoke. 

“Potions, nothing else,” you said, too quickly to your liking. 

“If you say so, then what do we do?” she crossed her arms almost sassily. Harry spoke.

“We go to the trap door. Tonight ,” he said. “We’ll meet near the place at 10:30.” You all nodded in agreement. 

******************

You were already there. Dressed warmly against the cold of the castle, you stood in front of the door leading to Fluffy’s room. Suddenly, in front of you, your three friends appeared from under the Invisibility Cloak. Surprise jumped to your throat.

“Relax, it’s just us,” Ron said, giggling at your reaction.

“Shut up, Ronald,” Hermione whispered, not wanting to make noise. The boy groaned as you smiled at them. 

“Get under the cloak with us,” Harry gestured. He obviously still felt bad about what he had told you earlier that day. He had basically called you useless at that moment. You obliged. Your friends made space for you as you let the cloak fall on you and become clear. You found yourself struggling to keep yourself from stepping on others’ feet.

Approaching the famous door, Hermione pointed her wand at the locket. “ Alohomora. ”

Opening the door, the three-headed dog made himself visible to you. The room was just as cold and dark as you remember it. It felt like a vivid memory. Everyone looked around. 

“Wait a minute…” Ron started, “He’s snoring.” Harry pulled down the cloak. In the corner of the room stood a tall harp plucking its string by itself, singing a melody. 

“Someone’s already been here… They’ve put a spell on the harp,” the boy with glasses said. The dog in front of you suddenly let out a louder snore. The wind coming from its mouth blew on you, making you scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Ew…” you let out.

“It’s got horrible breath,” Ron remarked. You crept closer to the trap door and your stomach lurched in anxiety. The beast’s paw rested on top of it, protecting it in its sleep. 

“We need to move its paw,” Harry told you. Ron looked almost against doing so.

“What–”

“ Come on! ” the boy urged. They all seemed reluctant to do it, so you stepped up.

“It’s alright… I’ll do it.” Ron let out a relieved breath, happy that he did not have to touch the creature. Slowly, you bent closer to it. Adrenaline and fear flooded your body as you put a hand on its paw. Its soft fur caressed your skin whilst his long, sharp claws scratched the ground. You took your time and, when you felt ready, you pushed it aside. 

It required more strength than you expected. It seemed to take forever for the paw to finally move away. Your fingers turned white from the grip you had on the animal, and you could not be more grateful when it finally moved, revealing the trap door under it. You stood up, slightly stretching.

“Thank you, thank you,” Ron kept repeating like a prayer. You laughed softly at him while Harry and Hermione opened the trap. 

You all crouched down to stare at the entrance. The door on the ground led to an immeasurable depth. You were scared of it. Of the unknown. “I’ll go first,” Harry volunteered, “Don’t follow until I give you a sign.” You looked around one last time.

Fluffy’s eyes were slowly opening.

“We need to go now ,” you tried whispering calmly, but urgently. You did not want to wake up Fluffy faster. Harry grew confused.

“What, no. Wait for my sign–” You stopped him.

“Don’t look… but Fluffy’s waking up,” you said in the tiniest voice you could muster. Slowly, all four of you stared at the beast, locking eyes with it. Time seemed to slow down and you could hear your blood pumping before the black-haired boy screamed.

“ Jump! ”

The beast let out a roar as Harry jumped in the trap, followed by Hermione. You had to push Ron in, who stood frozen, before entering just in time. You landed on black, slick vines, which cushioned your fall. It was in the form of a net, and under hid a room. Looking up, you saw one of the dog’s heads popping out of the trap’s entrance, trying to reach you. Fortunately, you were too deep down for it to reach. The area was dark and spacious. You recognised it along with the plant under you. The four of you laid on its vines.

Devil’s Snare.

“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” Ron spoke too soon. 

Suddenly, you felt the vines shift under you. You had to think fast. Your friends let out groans and struggles against the plant. Quickly, you reached for your wand and, after you snatched it from your case, casted your spell.

“ Lumos Solem! ” As rapidly as it came, the vines ripped, making all of you fall onto the stone ground under the net of vines. 

Your head hit the ground in a sharp knock. An instant pain cursed throughout your entire body. You moaned, holding your forehead with both hands. There was a deafening ringing in your ears and your vision blurred. 

You knew you had to get up. After what felt like an eternity, you were able to stand, your legs weak, along with Ron. Harry and Hermione were already back on their feet, trying to process everything that just happened. Thoughts were running across their heads.

“Phew,” the redhead exclaimed, “Lucky we knew what to do.” Harry looked at him, deadpanned, gesturing towards you.

“Lucky someone here pays attention in Herbology.” Your friends stared at you as you held the front of your head, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” you reassured, trying to smile. 

Suddenly, a noise made its way to your ears. It was small, dainty. Barely heard. The sound was close to the one of fingers tapping softly against each other. All of you turned towards the source of the sound. On the other side of the room, you took notice of a tall, wooden door, where the noise came from.

“What is that?” Hermione’s voice echoed in the room.

“I don’t know… sounds like wings,” Harry replied. He was right. You all approached the door, letting Hermione open it. 

You walked through it, entering yet another chamber. The place was not particularly broad, but the ceiling stood so tall, you could not see it. It was decorated with simple, long columns and arches along the walls. However, what stood out was not the room. There were many little keys in the air with dragonfly-like wings. All of them flew slowly in different directions, unorganised. Wandering further in the room, you took a good look at every key, trying to find the 

“Curious,” Hermione started, “I’ve never seen birds like these…”

“They’re Winged Keys,” you informed her, looking above. Harry’s eyes landed on another door across the room.

“And I bet one of them fits through that door,” he said. You all glanced at the middle of the room, where you found a levitating broomstick, ready for use. There was a spotlight on the object, as if it wanted to be taken. 

“What’s this all about?” the girl questioned.

“I don’t know…” Harry whispered. Pensive, Ron waltzed towards the second door, taking out his wand. He and Hermione left you and Harry to try and open it.

“ Alohomora! ” you heard the redhead yell. You and Harry locked eyes, and you tried giving him a hint.

“You said a key opens that door…” you told him. He nodded, frowning in confusion and letting you continue. “And there are keys flying around and a broomstick, waiting to be used…” You raised your eyebrows for him to understand. His face lit up. You were quick to add details. “Since the door’s been opened, try to find a used key.” 

“You’re probably right but… it’s too simple,” Harry told you. You put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry too much.” Ron and Hermione were about to come back to you before the boy put his hand on the broomstick. This set off a reaction in the keys, which started to fly frantically around Harry. It surprised you, but after a few seconds, you knew they meant no harm. Your two other friends rushed to your side.

“What’s he doing?” Ron cried. You contented yourself on watching the scene unravel. The black-haired boy followed your advice and chased after a rusted key. Seeing him take his hand off his broom to catch the object made a pang of stress curse through you. This was seriously dangerous. Finally, you got a glimpse of him clutching something in his palm. 

“Catch the key!” the boy’s voice resonated in the room. Right after he said this, an object flew right towards Hermione. She caught it and instantly turned around. A feeling of urgency washed all of you as she unlocked the door.

“Hurry up!” Ron yelled. Harry was still in the air, being chased by the cloud of winged keys. Finally, the door opened and you all entered the new chamber, keeping it open for the fourth person. The scarred boy saw the door swing open and made a dive to join the rest of you. You closed the entrance as quickly as you could, making the keys that were chasing your friend stick through the wood. The noise of the flying objects banging on the door was deafening. Such little things could cause a lot of harm, and it scared you. 

While everyone scrutinised the gloomy hall, you recognised it. Huge chess pieces stood tall, all meticulously placed on a black and white board in their respective spots. Upon seeing this, you saw Hermione’s eyes widen as vivid memories flashed across her mind. She, who had always refused to play Wizard’s Chess due to it being too “barbaric”, felt a sense of dread drowning her.

“I don’t like this,” she confessed, “I don’t like this at all.”

“Where are we?” Harry asked, “A graveyard…?” 

“This is no graveyard…” Ron sighed, marching forward onto the platform, “It’s a chessboard.”

Suddenly, torches fired up across the room, illuminating the place. You squinted as you were caught off guard by the new lighting. Adapting to the change, you could finally see how big the board actually was. A mere pawn was taller than you and the more powerful pieces were more than twice your size. You stared up at them, fear creeping in you. Spiky goosebumps covered your skin, making you hyper aware of the uncomfortable clothes clinging to your body. 

The redhead walked on the board, passing in-between the black pieces, and the rest of you followed. “There’s the door!” Harry pointed across the room. Your friends walked forward to the exit, but you stayed behind, wary. As quickly as they came, the stone, white pawns in front of the three drew their swords, slashing across themselves. You and your friends gasped. The pawns waited to move again, withdrawing their weapons. The sound of their sharp blades clanking together was something that you would never be able to get used to.

“Now what do we do?” Hermione’s shaking voice rose. 

It’s obvious, isn’t it?” the Weasley started, “We’ve got to play our way across the room–” he pointed to the three of you, “–Alright. Harry, you take the empty bishop’s square. Hermione, you’ll be the queen-side castle, and you–” he gestured to your direction, “–you’ll be the pawn in front of the king’s castle. As for me… I’ll be a knight.” Hesitantly, you all took your positions. Pressure fell on your shoulders as you stared at your square. It was off-putting, knowing that this square, this position, would determine if you live or not. Stepping foot on it, you knew there was no going back. You let out a shaky breath and your hands began trembling. The bushy-haired girl was most worried.

“What happens now?” She really did not know how to play. 

“Well, white moves first, and then, we play…” As predicted, the white pawn began to slide against the board.

E4

Ron had a pensive look on his face as he glanced at the possible moves. He was the most concentrated you’ve ever seen.

“Ron, you don’t suppose this is going to be like… real Wizard’s Chess, do you?” the girl asked, hoping for reassurance. He ignored her. 

“You there!” he pointed to a pawn, “D5!” The pawn moved.

D5

You were not quite sure about the efficiency of this play. It was aggressive, instantly threatening the white pawn. It may not have shown, but Ron was quick to create heat in the game. You were unaware if it was intentional or if it was to see if it would play out like real Wizard’s Chess, where pieces would literally smash each other to crumbs. To everyone’s dismay, the white pawn took out its swords and slashed it across the black pawn, tearing it and letting it fall to the ground, taking its place.

E4xD5

“Yes, Hermione…” Ron breathed out, looking at the girl with an almost apologetic look on his face, “I think this is gonna be exactly like Wizard’s Chess.”

Time passed and every time a new piece was eliminated, your heart jumped to your throat. The sound of the stone hitting the ground startled you and shook your very bone. Your head spun throughout the entire game as the debris and the dust in the room multiplied. You did not move for the whole play, having no other choice but to trust Ron. Near the end, the white queen took a castle. 

QD3xCC3

Ron was one move from his knight to check the king.

“Wait a minute…” the black-haired boy said.

“You understand right, Harry,” the boy replied, “Once I make my move, the queen will take me. Then you’re free to check the king–”

“No, Ron no!”

“What is it?” Hermione demanded. She was truly lost. 

“He’s going to sacrifice himself,” he said.

“No… you can’t!” the little girl said, “There’s got to be another way!”

Ron turned to her, irritated. “ Do you want to stop Snape from getting that stone or not? ” Even with you denying Snape’s culpability, it was clear none of them believed you. He sighed. “Harry, it’s you that has to go on. I know it. Not us. You .” It tore you to hear Ron say something like this. To a certain extent, you agreed with him. However, he made it seem as if your lives were invaluable. You shrugged it off due to the gravity of the situation. Harry nodded reluctantly and the boy took a deep breath, gripping on the horse he sat on. “Knight… to H3”

NH3

He moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. Finally, the moment everyone dreaded happened and you could see the sheer terror on the poor boy’s face. His eyes watered, so he shut them in hopes of making it quick, painless.

QC3xNH3

The queen brandished her sword, directing it straight to Ron. In one sudden movement, she pierced his horse, sending him flying backwards with a terrible scream. The boy landed on the floor along with the white knight, unmoving.

“Ron!” Harry screamed. All you could do was watch quietly. You did not have the force to raise your voice. The Gryffindor girl was about to run to the motionless boy. “No, don’t move! Don’t forget, we’re still playing!” The black-haired boy let out a breath he was holding before finally marching his way towards his spot, checkmating the opposite king.

BC5

There was a long silence. 

The white king, who held his sword highly in his hand, released his grip on it, admitting to his defeat. His sword clanked against the ground and, upon this action, you quickly moved away from your spot and ran towards Ronald. The boy looked weak. You looked over to him as your friends crouched beside him. 

“He’s still breathing,” you affirmed, earning a relieved sigh from them. Harry glanced at you and Hermione. You could finally see him from up close and notice how his sweater was ripped and how gashed littered his face, bleeding.

“Take care of Ron. Then go to the owlery. Send a message to Dumbledore… Ron’s right, I have to go on,” he told the both of you. You quickly protested.

“No, you shouldn’t go alone! Let me come with you.” You could see in his eyes that he was not opposed to the idea. He was scared, like any other person would be in this situation. 

“They’re right,” Hermione supported. “You two are great wizards.”

“Not as good as you,” he said. 

“Me? Books and cleverness… There are more important things. Friendship and bravery,” she sighed, “Be careful…”

“We will be,” you replied. Her lips tugged up ever so slightly, clearly still preoccupied about her friend laying on the ground. You and Harry rose up from your crouching position, parting away from the girl. You looked back as you marched towards the exit, shooting her a reassuring smile before walking down the stairs that lead to the other room. 

You travelled further into the room. Your blood pumped and your legs felt incredibly heavy. It was by far the darkest room yet. You were submerged more and more in the lack of light with Harry by your side. There was, however, one thing that could be seen.

A spotlight shone on a man who’s back faced you. He stood still, staring at his reflection on a mirror twice his size. The figure wore a deep purple turban as well as a robe of the same colour, enriched with a sash. Your friend began groaning, holding his scar in pain. As you approached, you were able to get a good look on who it was that stood them from the reflection of the mirror. 

“ You? ” the boy whispered. Professor Quirrell turned around, facing you with a glare. “No, it can’t be. Snape…” Harry looked at you. “You were right…” The teacher laughed.

“Yes, he does seem the type doesn’t he?” the man replied, “Next to him, who would suspect–” he put on a fake shy face, “–p-p-poor st-t-t-stuttering Professor Quirrell?” His face fell and his eyes were fixated on your friend. 

“But that day, during the Quidditch match, Snape tried to kill me…” You wanted to roll your eyes.

“No, dear boy, I tried to kill you! And trust me, if Snape’s cloak hadn’t caught on fire and broken my eye contact… I would have succeeded! Even with Snape muttering his countercurse.”  

“Snape was trying to save me?”

“I knew you were a danger to me right from the off…” His gaze wandered further until they locked with yours. “I heard you… Snape was no fool when I let in the troll. He knew I had done it. But who would put the blame on me?” The man slowly approached you. You stepped back, wary. “How did you know it wasn’t him? That is the only thing I cannot seem to understand,” he admitted, frowning in confusion. He seemed desperate to know. He turned back to the mirror and Harry suddenly felt a sharp pain in his scar. You muttered an excuse.

“I had no reason to believe Snape did it.” It was a weak reason. Quirrell scoffed. He stared at his reflection in silence before speaking again.

“Now, what does this mirror do?” He let out a deep breath. “I see what I desire… I see myself holding the stone, but how do I get it?”

Suddenly, an echo of a voice resonated throughout the chamber. You could not pinpoint its origin.

“ Use the boy… ” 

Without hesitation, the professor whipped his head towards Harry, pointing at him. “Come here, Potter! Now! ’ The black-haired boy looked hesitant, but out of fear, obliged. He stepped a foot forward before abruptly stopping as you gripped onto his sweater, pulling him back.

“ Don’t, ” you whispered, your hand sealed to his back. The chosen one looked back at you, your gazes locking. His eyes travelled from your to your arm. Something about your demeanour compelled him to trust you at that moment. He felt like, with you by his side, he had someone to fall back on. To help him. His fear subsided and he backed away from Quirrell, following your advice. 

“I will not repeat myself…” The man threatened. The same echo from earlier rose again, startling everyone.

“ Let me speak to him… ” The professor frowned. 

“Master, you are not strong enough–”

“ I have strength enough for this. ” After a moment of hesitation, Quirrell ceded. He slowly brought his arms up to his head, beginning to unwrap his turban. Harry retreated slightly, scared of what was to come next. Your eyes laid unmoving on the man. Quirrell faced you and the back of his head reflected on the mirror. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the teacher slid the cloth off completely. 

You expected for it to be ugly, but seeing it with your own eyes made it so much worse. The man’s head was morphed into what seemed to be an incomplete, flat face. You could only make out a pair of sunken eyes with flat, bushy and grey eyebrows. The face wore deep wrinkles along with a permanent scowl on its thin lips. Veins littered its skin. It was truly ugly. 

“Harry Potter… we meet again.” 

“Voldemort.” Harry replied, his tone shaking. He subconsciously leaned towards you. The professor’s eyes were closed as the villain spoke, the head could barely bear its own senses and the boy next to you had all his attention on the duo. You considered all of it and seized the opportunity to do something impulsive. Slowly, your hand wandered towards Harry’s pocket as the figure spoke. It was risky, and you were not quite sure why you did it, but it felt right. Finally, you felt the Sorcerer’s Stone in his pocket and retrieved it. The ignorant boy barely felt a thing.

“Yes. You see what I’ve become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another. A mere parasite… Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can. Something that, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket.” Harry frowned in confusion and went to feel his pockets. 

“I don’t have anything–”

“Liar!” Voldemort cried. Quirrell instantly casted a nonverbal spell with the snap of his fingers which caused fire to spring on every wall of the room.  You were now trapped in the chamber. Anxiety drowned you, not knowing the true measure of Voldermort’s power. “Don’t be a fool. Why suffer a horrific death when you can join me and live?”

Harry shook his head vigorously. “ Never! ” The figure scoffed.

“Bravery… Your parents had it too. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again? Together, we can bring them back… All I ask is for something in retur–”

“We don’t want to know about your stupid ‘proposal’!” you interjected before you could contain yourself, tired of the man’s nonsense. Your breath shook and Harry stared at you, eyes wide. The room fell in a deafening silence. “You can’t bring his parents back to life, nor can you kill him if he doesn’t accept. That’s all because you’re too weak to do so ,” you provoked. 

Gradually, you saw the face’s frown become a deadly grimace. It looked like a mix of confusion, shock and fury. “I know you…” Voldemort revealed.

“Do you really?” you asked. Nobody really knew you here. You were a Hogwarts student to anyone you have met yet. Nothing else. Not a traveller. Not a Muggle. Nothing. However, there was something about his tone that brought your guards up. You reached towards your silver wand, opening its protective case to be able to draw it out anytime.

“ I am starting to wish I never did… ” Voldemort said. His face screamed wrath. “ Kill them! ” 

Quirrell quickly obliged, taking every order yelled at him with no hesitation. Suddenly, he soared towards you, his hand extended in front of him. You quickly moved out of the way and took out your wand, your heart beating erratically in your chest. The man, who landed on the floor where you once stood, turned to you abruptly, irritated. Before you got to cast a spell against the man, Quirrell took a hold of Harry next to him and knocked him down. Due to their proximity, you could not conjure anything without having a chance of hitting your friend. Your head ached with the circumstance you were given until the professor began choking Harry. In response, the boy’s hand gripped onto the man’s arm. 

Quirrell’s skin began burning. Vapour escaped from it as he let out a horrified, pained scream. He backed away, watching his body decay piece by piece. “What is this magic?” he yelled.

“Fool, get the stone!” Voldemort commanded. Before the teacher could do anything, you pointed your wand at him. A blue jet emitted from your wand before you even needed to say anything, landing on the man’s chest. His body went limp and promptly fell on the cold floor. His body became ashes and it laid there unmoving, to your relief.

Harry turned to you, still laying down and catching his breath. You had just performed nonverbal magic. You looked back at him and he simply smiled before closing his eyes and letting his body rest on the floor. As your friend stayed motionless, you stared at him, then the stone in your own pocket. You had a choice. You could keep the stone.

And you did.

The object found its way back to your pocket. Your attention was brought back to Harry. “ Wingardium Leviosa ,” you waved your wand, making his body float. It was easier for you to carry him to the infirmary this way. You snuck past Madam Pomfrey, not wanting to endure her wrath for another student up past curfew other than Hermione. You placed Harry on a bed and ran away. Before hurrying back to your dorm, you paid a visit to another place.

You held the stone in your hand. It reflected the moon’s light perfectly under the roof of the Astronomy Tower. It took you a lot of time up there to process everything that had happened. You thought back on Voldemort’s words. 

“I know you…”

“I am starting to wish I never did…”

You were not sure if he was truly aware of who you were, what you were, but something in his voice told you he knew. You needed more information about your trip here. Your ignorance ate you alive and the only way to stop this feeling was to come in contact with the man again.

Chapter Text

29/06/1992

It was the last day of your first year. 

Normally, summer break had always been something you looked forward to. You used to yearn for the freedom that came with the end of the school year. Having months to yourself and not worrying about your grades was exactly what you needed. After all, you passed this year with flying colours, surprising yourself. Although you were not quite on Hermione’s level in most subjects, you managed to gather information about everything and anything in this world.

However, there was a price to pay for this freedom. You had to return to a place you could not call “home”. Home is a feeling of belonging. It is your culture and the people you are close to. Your house and your parents were not your home.

The events from the night before kept flashing through your mind. Waking up, you quickly reminded yourself to write a letter for Harry. You went to place it in his hands as he kept sleeping before going off to your first class. It read:

Dear Harry,

I hope you’re doing well and that you’re not too unsettled by last night’s events. If you ever need someone to talk to, I am here. However, I have a request: Please, I beg, do not tell anyone about what Voldemort told me. Do not say I was here.
We all wish you a quick recovery. 

You signed the letter off with your name. 

The school air felt fresh on your skin and your clothes seemed lighter than usual. It was as if nothing could have gone wrong that day. Everyone wore grins on their joyful faces and the atmosphere was cheerful. Students also anticipated the feast that would be happening that same night. Since all of your exams already passed, you quickly realised that professors had nothing to teach. It struck you most during your second class of the day as you stood between Ron and Hermione.

“Today is the end of the beginning for all of you!” Sprout started, happy for her pupils. “You made this year a wonderful one. All of my classes have been a pleasure to teach—” she quickly glanced at Malfoy, “—At least, most of my classes.” This earned a few scattered giggles around the greenhouse. The light pierced the windows magnificently. Although the dust in the chamber could be seen as a negative thing, it made it easy to see each and every ray of sunlight make its way in the class, illuminating even the darkest of places. “This said, I invite you all to spend today outside with your friends! Between me and you, who would want to spend a day like this inside? Out! Out!” 

You glanced at your friends and you broke into a huge grin. Ron and Hermione’s faces lit up and students began flooding out of the classroom. The buck-toothed girl faced you. “I’m going to thank the professor before going. You two can stay and I’ll join you!” She rapidly ran off to the teacher. Ron scoffed.

“Always a model student, even when the year’s over,” he said. “I’ll get going outside, I can’t stand this classroom any longer!” You were about to follow him until you saw Neville stay back, unmoving and staring at one of the teacher’s plants.

“I’ll stay… I’ll see you later,” you told him. He scoffed. 

“Suit yourself, I’m not wasting my time here,” the redhead murmured sassily before going out. Through the glass doors, you could see him step out of the room and raise his arms with victorious, clenched fists, feeling the sun on his skin. “ Freedom! ” he yelled. He was ridiculous. Hermione was still deep in her conversation with Sprout.

You made your way towards the black-haired boy. From afar, he looked like he was examining a common Tansy. However, as you crept closer to his side, you noticed his distant stare. He was alone. Neville, despite your closeness, did not notice you. You hesitantly brought your hand up to tap his shoulder, to which he reacted with a quiet gasp. Eyes wide, his gaze landed on you before he relaxed. “Neville, are you okay?” He looked down. 

“I will be when the day’s over,” the boy replied, exhausted.

“Why are you saying this?” You got no answer. “Is it because of Malfoy?” Neville tensed up at the mention of his name, making you sigh. He was being picked on. “Don’t let them step over you. I know it’s hard, but it’s for the better. If you need any help, I’m always here—”

“It’s easy for you to say…” the poor boy mumbled before locking eyes with yours. “You punched Malfoy as if it was nothing. I would never be able to do something like that even if I really wanted to. How come you, a Hufflepuff, has got more courage than me, a Gryffindor? Why am I a Gryffindor?” 

“Nobody is born courageous, Neville. Everyone learns it. The Sorting Hat saw potential in you, I’m sure.” You grew satisfied when the boy’s lips tugged up. You both stood in silence as he digested your advice. 

Hermione bid goodbye to the teacher before trotting towards you. Neville noticed that you had to go. “Thank you,” he finally said before Hermione went to you, grabbing your arm and letting out an excited “Let’s go!”. You waved at the boy before waltzing outside the greenhouse with your friend. The light’s warm gaze lightly tickled your skin and a small, fresh breeze eased your senses. Finally, you spotted the redhead along with Seamus and Dean. They all sat on the light green grass, seeming to be in a deep conversation. You approached them curiously until Ron’s voice made its way to your ears. 

“ —And near the end, when all hope seemed lost, I sacrificed myself. Then—” Hermione coughed loudly, directing the attention to her. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Oh, hey… I was— I was just—”

“We know what you were doing, Ron,” Hermione laughed. “Come on, now!” You did not know where you were going, but you turned your heels nonetheless, beginning to walk away. Ron left his friends with a small “see you later” and caught up to the two of you. As you marched, you saw him notice the running river right next to you. Thoughts flashed in his mind before he glanced at you. 

“We have lunch after this, right?” he asked. You frowned in confusion.

“Yes, why?” He grinned mischievously. 

“Watch this .” You knew nothing good would come out of what would happen next by the expression plastered on his face. The boy checked his surroundings before taking off his robe and unwrapping his tie from around his neck, throwing them on the ground. Hermione gasped when he took off his vest as well.

“Ronald Weasley, what is it that you think you’re doing?” She covered her eyes while he took off his shoes.

“I’m not getting naked, weirdo! You can open your eyes,” he exclaimed from over his shoulder, beginning to walk in the cold water. He hissed from the feeling of the hard rocks under his feet, but relaxed into it. He took a deep breath before fully running in the water, splashing it everywhere. “The temperature’s perfect! C’mon!” He let himself fall, finally submerging himself in the lake. His clothes clung to his skin desperately. You glanced at Hermione, who looked at you in  warning glare. 

“ Do not, ” she murmured. You smiled in playfulness, beginning to remove your shoes. She sighed in disappointment and Ron fell victorious. 

“Merlin’s beard, why have I never done this?” he said, swimming in an area deep enough for his feet to hardly touch the ground. You approached him, leaving your robe and vest behind. 

“I’m only going to dip in,” you said, stepping in the lake,“I don’t want to end up all wet.”

“Oh yeah?” Ron provoked, creeping towards you.

Suddenly, a wave of water flew towards you. Millions of droplets fell, soaking your clothes and face. You gasped. 

“How could you!” Hermione scolded. 

“If you want to defend their honour, why don’t you come at me?” Ron laughed. The girl grunted as you slowly wiped the water away from your eyes. You glared at the boy and, seeing your face, he gulped. The culprit soon became the victim as you soared in the water. Ron let out a shriek and tried moving away. The boy was a terrible swimmer. His head floated and barely moved as his arms and legs wiggled in a desperate attempt to go forward. You caught up to him and swung your arm from under the water, sending a great wave straight to his face. 

“Hermione! Hermione! They’re trying to kill me!” he begged. The girl only laughed and saw the scene unravel before her. 

“It’s what you deserve!” she yelled back, earning a whine from him. 

As time passed, all of you calmed down. You and Ron stayed in the water because coming out of it made you shiver coldly. The lake’s temperature calmed you.

“So what happened when I left you and Harry alone?” Hermione asked, referring to last night. You thought for a moment before speaking.

“We met Voldemort—” Their eyes widened.

“You said his name!” Ron yelled. 

“It’s okay, he was weak at that moment, so we got away easily.” You explained the entire ordeal with Quirrell having Voldemort on the back of his head and how you and Harry defeated the professor. The whole time, your friends were dead quiet, listening to every word rolling from your tongue. You did not mention, however, the words Voldemort told you. About how he knew you. It still made you unsettled, acknowledging the fact that the villain might know something you do not. “Can you promise me one thing?” Ron and Hermione nodded vigorously. “Please, don’t tell anyone I was there. I don’t want people to know.”

“Suit yourself, but you can tell the world I was there,” the Weasley started, “I was so smart out there—”

“For once,” the girl interjected. 

“Oh, come on, this was the best chess game Hogwarts has seen in years!”

“Your grades are still the worst Hogwarts has seen in years,” you remarked, earning a laugh from Hermione. Ron scoffed.

“You’re just a jealous lot, that’s what! You weren’t as good as me,” he defended. 

“Oh sure,” the girl said.

Professor Sprout’s voice suddenly rose across the field and your heart jumped. You turned towards the woman, who waltzed in a rapid pace in your direction, fists clenched. You saw Ron gulp and both of you quickly got out of the water, heads hanging low. She called out yours and the redhead’s name as she stopped in her tracks in front of you, hands on her hips. “What were you thinking?” she tapped her foot on the ground. You and Ron stayed silent, unable to make eye contact with the imposing adult. You could only hear the grass break under her foot, the wind blowing the tree leaves and the water of the lake running. It would be calming if it was not for the position you were in. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You can swim plenty when you get home!” she scolded. Finally, sighing, she took her wand out. “ Evanesco .” Rapidly, all of the water on your bodies evaporated, leaving you completely dry. “I will not take points off, but I want you to promise me to never do this again.” 

“Sorry, Professor Sprout,” you and Ron uttered, ashamed. The bell rang across the school and you were let off to lunch. Next came Defence Against the Dark Arts. 

Due to Quirrell’s “absence”, Dumbledore had to come in and announce that you were all dismissed. He vaguely explained the recent events about Voldemort being in the school, which caused a lot of students to get scared. Neville was exceptionally frightened. To your pleasure, he only mentioned Ron and Hermione being there with Harry. The old man did not bring up your name. Harry must have seen the letter you sent him and respected your wishes. You were on your way out of the class until you saw Theodore staying behind to chat up Draco and his friends. You saw them form a big circle around a desk, as if they were plotting or gossiping. Most of their eyes were on your Slytherin friend. You heard small hushes and you could have sworn someone said “You’re friends with them, right? Ask them about it!” Not even a second later, all of their heads turned to you, Ron and Hermione. Your eyes wandered elsewhere, avoiding their gaze. 

As you were about to leave the class, you heard a familiar voice call your name. Searching for the speaker, you saw Theodore march towards you, having left his friends behind. “You’re good friends with Harry, are you?” he questioned. You hesitated before answering.

“Yes… I am. Why are you asking?”

“Can you tell me more about what happened—”

“It would be useless to ask me,” you interrupted, “I wasn’t there.” The boy blinked in confusion. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why I assumed you were,” he confessed, embarrassed of himself, “But were you aware that your friends were going to see You-Know-Who?” 

“No, I wasn’t,” you lied through your teeth. The boy simply shrugged before following you as you marched out of the classroom. You knew Flitwick plainly cancelled his class, knowing that showing up will only lead to wasted time. This meant you had the rest of the day for yourselves. 

Your flying skills were excruciatingly average and Theodore decided to highlight your trait that afternoon. You started with playing Quidditch against each other until you got bored, so you settled on flying around the castle. You almost forgot to tell him that Snape would be expecting the both of you after the feast in his office. You settled on meeting after dinner outside the Great Hall so you can go together. The bell rang quicker than you wished and you had to bid Nott goodbye after putting your borrowed brooms away. 

You found yourself sitting next to Hannah and Susan. Apart from occasional study dates and late-night conversations, you had not talked to them as much as you would have liked to. Susan liked her solitude whilst Hannah spent a lot of time with Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Flletchley, other Hufflepuffs your age. You found this ceremony silly. You all wore pointy hats and huge Slytherin banners hung from the Great Hall veiling. You have been asked many questions about last night by many different people, Susan and Hannah being no exception. As you ate, you were interrupted by the clanking of a goblet on the staff’s table. It was only at this moment that you looked around the room, finding Harry amidst the now quiet crowd. He had fresh scars all over his face. Your attention was diverted to Dumbledore, who stood up. 

“Another year gone,” he started, “And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff with three hundred and two points.” Weak, pitiful applause rang across the room. You felt your house members eye you in slight resentment due to that one night you were caught past curfew with the trio, taking fifty points off.

“You screwed up,” Susan whispered, making you nod in embarrassment. You could not look others in the eyes. 

“Third place, Gryffindor with three hundred and twelve points.” The same scattered claps were heard. “In second place, Ravenclaw with four hundred and twenty six points.” With this announcement, the applause grew bigger. A few cheers erupted from the blue table, all of its members proud of themselves despite not winning. “And in first place, with four hundred and seventy two points, Slytherin house!” The green table howled their pride, clapping more vigorously than ever. Snape himself clapped, although not showing any sign of emotion on his face. “Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. Well done, Slytherin. However—”

Everyone went quiet at his last word, confused. 

“ —recent events must be taken into account, and I have a few last-minute points to award.” Perplexed glances were shared across the Hall. “To Miss Hermione Granger for the cool use of intellect. While others were in grave peril, fifty points.” The Gryffindor house bursted in applause and cheers for the young witch, who looked down, flustered at the attention. “Second, to Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years, fifty points.” You could see from afar the flabbergasted expressions on Ron and Harry’s faces. You laughed to yourself. Ron was drowned in the Gryffindors’ praise. “And third… to Mr. Harry Potter for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.” By this point, the entire Great Hall except for the Slytherins erupted in cheers for the three wizards. After all, to most people, even if it was not for their house, any other winner except Slytherin was worth clapping for. “Finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies… but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award ten points… to Neville Longbottom.” Nobody expected that one. You clapped amidst the shouting sea of students. The atmosphere was high and moods were brought up. “Assuming that my calculations are correct, I believe that a change in decoration is in order!” The old principal clapped his hands once, making all of the Slytherin banners turn over themselves and transform into Gryffindor ones. “ Gryffindor wins the House Cup! ”

Acclamation reached its peak as Gryffindor students rose from their seats and began throwing their hats in the air. Soon enough, the Hufflepuffs were doing it too. Taking their hats with one hand and letting it fly. You followed and, as you let yours soar, you felt time slow down. Your hat seemed to fall back to you ever so slowly. 

You knew you were not seeking recognition for what you did. You were under the radar for the moment. Logically, after finding Harry last night, Dumbledore was supposed to have destroyed the stone. However, you had it in the deepest parts of your suitcase as you sat there. If he knew you had it with you, you had no idea what could happen. 

Your hat came down to strike you right in the face and Hannah pointed to you, laughing her heart out. Your gaze found its way back to the Gryffindor’s table, where all of its members cheered around Harry, Ron and Hermione. You could not afford people to admire you like they admired them at that moment, but it was alright. You caught a glimpse of a hyper Lee Jordan jumping around, the twins doing a personalised handshake, Seamus congratulating everyone and the trio being drowned in praise. Eventually, students calmed down and lively chatter filled the room as people began eating again.

The clock signalled the end of the feast. Students burst out of the Great Hall and you stayed near the entrance to find Nott. The staff was already gone and corridors were filled with young witches and wizards ready to go to bed. However, you still had the duty to visit Snape’s classroom. Finally, Theodore appeared in the crowd and, after he saw you, he sent a big wave. He was small compared to everyone, being a first year. He rushed to your side. “Ready?” You nodded enthusiastically in response. You both marched through the castle, your paths diverting from every other student’s. As you walked deeper in the school dungeons, the atmosphere became darker and colder. The air was chilly and the occasional window only gave sight to blue mist. 

You two arrived at his door, which was wide open. Snape was already at his desk, gathering a few things before shoving them in a dark leather suitcase. “Come in,” the man said in his boring voice. Theodore gently stepped in first and you followed. You both formally greeted the man. “What I demand the both of you to do this summer is read next year’s potion textbook in advance—” he took out two books from a drawer, “ —I expect those copies back at the end of your second year.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape,” you and your friend said, each grabbing a manual. 

“That is all, you may go now.” Theodore turned around and quickly reached the door, but you stood still. You threw him a look to not wait for you and he complied, leaving you with the professor. 

“Professor Snape… I was wondering if you could, only if it’s okay of course, lend me textbooks for the summer?” The man looked down at you, raising an eyebrow. “I have no libraries near me that have the… books that I want. Even if it’s just one or two—”

“I do,” he replied. He departed from his desk and, scrutinising his small library, he checked every title with his index. The man in black picked one out, then two, and finally, three books. He returned by your side, shoving them in your arms before sitting down. You were about to walk away until he spoke again, making you stop dead in your tracks. “Before you go… Tell me one thing.” He seemed to take his time to find the right words. He stared down at you, as if he was suspicious. “Why were you defending me?” You frowned.

“I’m not sure I understand, sir.” Defending him? You thought back at every time you tried to convince your friends that he was not the one trying to get past Fluffy, that he was not the culprit.

“I heard you,” he admitted, getting up and walking closer to you. This made you take a step back, nervous. “The day your friends broke havoc under that trapdoor… Why?” You could not tell him the truth, obviously. You went with a logical answer instead of an emotional one. You thought it would work better on a man like Snape. 

“Quirrell was relatively new to Hogwarts, no? I’m sure you would have found a way to get the stone earlier than now if you were set on it. I was more inclined to think it was his work, not yours.” Your professor squinted before letting it go, finally able to rest back on his desk chair. 

“Thank you for your honesty… Go,” he said. With this, you promptly left him, clutching the books close to your chest and smiling. You got what you wanted, thanks to him.

******************

30/06/1992

The train whistled as a man put your baggage away, doing the same for Harry, Ron and Hermione right after. Hagrid’s voice could be heard from afar. “Come on, now. Hurry up, you’ll be late!” He gestured every last few students to board where to go. “Train’s leaving. Go on. Hurry up!” You followed your ginger friend inside the train, the other two walking right behind you. 

“Come on, Harry,” you heard the girl say, only for Harry to dismiss her words.

“One minute.” You, Ron and Hermione leaned on the entrance of the train, catching a glimpse of your friend going to see Hagrid. You could see the big man hand him a book.

“What’s that?” the girl asked.

“I guess we’ll find out,” you replied, shrugging. “I’ll go occupy a compartment before they’re all taken.”

“Alright, we’ll join you,” Ron said, his eyes on the boy with glasses. You fully went inside the train. Navigating through it was like travelling through a jungle. Students were everywhere, causing a ruckus. You could have sworn you even heard a small explosion go off in a closed compartment. It took you a while to finally find an empty one. You were quick to get in and sit down, finally able to relax. You were proud of yourself. You had gone through your first year at Hogwarts with exceptional grades and you have lived one of the best, if not the best, years of your life. However, there was another side to that medal. You missed the people you once knew. Everything seemed unfamiliar here, and you had trouble making it a home for yourself. You did not even know if you were going to go back to your old life. If this was it. You wondered what the future would hold for you. Your next losses and triumphs.

The door on your right slid open, pulling you out of your reverie. “Oh, I thought we’d never find you!” Hermione said, happy to see you. The trio sat down and Harry began showing off the picture book of him and his parents Hagrid gave him. This went on for a while until the cart lady arrived, offering you sweets. The black-haired boy was kind enough to get all of you a chocolate frog and one Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. Luck seemed to be on your side because of how you only got flavours such as strawberry, mango and watermelon as Ron got flavours such as grass, booger and, the worst of all, cauldron grease. You ended up taking a nap with Ron after getting changed in the train bathrooms while Harry quietly taught Hermione chess strategies. 

The sound of the train whistling startled everyone including you. You jumped up from your rest, wiping the drool on the corner of your mouth. You were dragged out of the train by Hermione, who helped you get back on your feet. Getting your luggage, you went to see your friends one last time.

“This was probably one of the best years of my life,” you told your friends.

“Although I despite school, I can agree,” Ron commented. He saw his mother from afar and waved at her as she came close. 

“Harry Potter! Look, mum, I can see—” Ginny exclaimed, pointing at your friend. Mrs. Weasley quickly shut her up.

“Be quiet, Ginny, and it’s rude to point!” she replied, lowering her daughter’s hand. She looked down at the three of you and smiled warmly. “Busy year?” 

“Very,” Harry replied. “Thank you for the fudge and the jumper Mrs. Weasley.” 

“Yes, thank you very much Mrs!” you said.

“Oh, it was nothing, dears—”

“Ready, are you?” a voice resonated at the station. You all whipped your heads towards the source and you were, much to your displeasure, met with Vernon, Petunia and Dudley. The man looked at you and his eyes seemed to almost pop out of their sockets. “ You? Since when do you go here?” You felt put under the spotlight.

“I go there with Harry…” you answered. 

“What a load of bollocks!” Vernon exclaimed. This earned a few reactions from the Weasley family. 

“Watch the language, there are children around…” you heard Arthur, Ron's father, mumble to himself in a sing-song manner as he rolled his eyes. 

“You must be Harry’s family!” Molly said, trying her best to be positive. The purple-faced man sighed before replying. 

“In a manner of speaking… Hurry up, boy, we haven’t got all day.” Petunia looked at you, then glanced around before crouching down to your level. 

“Do you have someone to come and get you home, dear?” she questioned. You nodded. 

“I’m using the Floo Network—” The Weasley family winced at this. Travelling this way was the quickest, but it gave awful side effects to those who were not used to it such as nausea or dizziness. 

“How about you come with us?” the woman invited. You caught a glimpse of Harry, his eyes screaming “accept their offer”. You did so.

“That would be great, Mrs. Dursley.” You turned to Ron and Hermione, who both looked at Harry’s family in distaste. 

“We’ll see you two over the summer,” Harry said. 

“Hope you have– uh– a good holiday,” replied Hermione. She really did not like Vernon. 

“Oh, we will.” The boy leaned in to whisper. “ They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer,” he confessed, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Ron had to go home and he began to walk away with his mother. “I’ll send all of you an owl!” the redhead exclaimed. You all bid him goodbye. Same happened with Hermione, who looked especially sad to have to leave you. 

You marched out of the station with Harry’s family, the black-haired boy behind you at all times. You quickly saw how Vernon and Petunia favoured you a lot more than you thought. They would hold doors open for you, only to slam them shut when it was your friend’s turn to get through them, making you wince.

The car ride was awfully long and quiet. You knew your parents worked late, so a tardy would be no problem. You sat squished between Harry and Dudley in the back seat. Well, you and Harry were squished. His cousin, much to your dismay, kept all of the leg room for himself as well as the body room, if that was even a thing. His beads of fat were in the way, glueing you to your friend. The adults tried making small talk with you, ignoring Harry the entire way. They seemed genuinely interested in you. You reckoned you have made a very good impression the times your families met for them to be so adamant on knowing more. Time passed by and the sun set completely. It was almost 10:30 p.m when they parked in their driveway, walking you to your house.

“Parents aren’t home yet?” Vernon questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“No, unfortunately,” you replied, “They always end up working late. But don’t worry, I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Alright dear, but if you need anything, you call us!” Petunia exclaimed, “Vernon, paper.” She put her hand out flat and her husband quickly searched through his pockets. He found a pen and paper and handed it to her before she began scribbling on it. She gave it to you with a smile on her long face. It was a phone number. “We’ll be glad to help.”

“Thank you Mrs. Dursley!” you said, grateful. Finally, you all bid goodbyes. As they all walked across the lawn to their own house, Harry looked back, sad to depart from you. You put your hand up to your mouth and ear, mimicking a telephone and mouthing “I’ll call you”. He began grinning from ear to ear as he nodded, getting the message. The boy waved at you and you replicated the action.

You put away your luggage and got dressed comfortably. You brought your house’s corded telephone to your room before dialling Harry’s number as you laid on your bed. You let it ring before you heard his voice on the other line, calling out your name to make sure it was you.

“Who else?” you replied. 

“Oh, hey!” you heard him try to stay quiet. His telephone was probably in the living room since there were sounds of TVs and chatter that occasionally made themselves noticed. “Sorry, hold on—” 

“Harry, who’re you talking to?” Dudley’s voice rang. 

“No one, Dudley, go away,” Harry replied.

“But I wanna know—” You began hearing grunting and whining on the other line. Probably the two boys fighting over the object. You frowned, holding the telephone further from your ear, not wanting to hear Dudley’s annoying protests. 

“MUM! Harry doesn’t want to let me use the phone!” 

“Harry, let him use it!” Aunt Petunia’s voice was heard from afar. Suddenly, you heard the black-haired boy’s voice clearer than day.

“I’ll call you later,” he said, before hanging up. Your mouth fell agape. 

While you waited for a call back, you took out your potions books, reading the titles: Ancient Potions by Miranda Cuni. The textbook held a greenish cover with silver linings. Draughts and their Uses by Albert Franklin, which you assumed was the required book for next year because of the simple drawing on the cover that was obviously made for a younger audience. It was also the book you remember Snape giving to you and Theodore. Finally, you inspected a manual that seemed different now that you were looking at it from up close. It was beige and the papers looked binded by hand. The cover was empty, so you turned over the first page to get a glimpse of the title: Cauldron to Cauldron: Morals of Potion-Making by Severus Snape. Confusion filled you. “Morals of potion-making”? It was as if Snape did not trust your own morals, but you did not take too much offence. That book looked precious, as it was all handmade.

You heard a door opening and shutting downstairs, followed by the rustling of keys and voices speaking to one another. Your heart leapt and you rushed downstairs towards the entrance to greet your parents. Seeing them for the first time in a year, they were almost unrecognisable. Probably because you have only known them for around a month prior. Your mother’s ears perked up at the sound of your footsteps as she put her coat away. You could swear you saw her eyes light up when she saw you. However, it was not the kind of look that would be associated with pure happiness. There was something in it that slightly unsettled you, as if she was about to devour you at that moment. You got that thought out of your head and got closer to her. 

“Mom! Dad!” you exclaimed.

“Oh, how I missed you!” your mother said, enthusiastically taking you in her arms and rocking you back and forth. Her hug was suffocating. Your dad came as well and wrapped his arms around you two, which you imitated. The woman broke the hug, her long fingers resting on your shoulders as she stared at you. “How was your year? Did you enjoy it? Did you make friends? Did you do well? I hope there weren’t any bullies, and if they were I want you to—” Your dad loudly cleared his throat, cutting her off. She realised how she was rambling. “Sorry, I simply can not stay calm right now. Let me start over again: How was it?” She looked as if she was catching her breath saying this. 

“It was amazing,” you said, slowly. “I loved it, absolutely loved it! I’m so happy you let me go, thank you.” You wanted to make sure to sound grateful, because you were. They could have just forced you not to go, but they did.

“Of course we were going to let you go,” started your dad, “You looked so happy when you got the news.” There was a slight silence as you noticed that your mother had a burning question.

“So… Can you show us a thing or two?” You sighed, sad to have to disappoint her.

“We’re not allowed to use magic outside of school when we’re under eighteen…”

“Oh,” she simply replied, “That’s quite alright, dear. Now, before I forget, do you need any help with your luggage?”

“I already put everything away.” Your mother smiled proudly. The man butted in.

“Also, your owl’s been hooting around day and night.” Your eyes widened and you looked around. Noticing your owl in the living room, you mentally slapped yourself. How did you not notice it?

Your parents have gone to sleep, but you were still waiting on Harry’s call. It was now almost midnight and you had given up until the telephone did as you were hoping for it to do. The ringing was loud, so you picked it up the second it started making noise.

“Harry!” you whisper-shouted, “What happened?”

“Hey, sorry, Dudley was in the way. I couldn’t even talk! I had to try my best to sneak the phone into my room. My new room” He seemed strangely happy. 

“What do you mean your new room?” You heard Harry’s giggle on the other line.

“Okay— you won’t believe this: I threatened them and said I would curse them if I didn’t get a room. I know that might sound terrible but, in my defence, I was living under the stairs.” Much to his relief, you laughed at his story. Without knowing, time flew past as the whispered conversation went on. You spent the night talking about everything and nothing while trying not to wake up your families. You ended up playing a game that involved you thinking of someone and Harry having to guess the person’s identity with only yes or no questions.

“Am I… someone we know personally?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Am I a woman?”

“No.”

“Am I a Hogwarts student?”

“Kind of.” The boy frowned.

“What d’you mean, ‘kind of’?” 

“Just trust me!” He thought for a moment before letting questions roll off his tongue again. 

“... Was I a Hogwarts student?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh, then am I a professor?”

“No.”

“Do we even know someone who went, but is not a teacher?”

“We do.” Harry rolled his eyes before falling into a concentrated state.

“Oh— wait, am I Hagrid?”

“Yes!” you said, a victorious smile making its way onto your face. “See? Told you to trust me.” Your friend scoffed. 

“Sure, sure. You know, I wonder where Hagrid comes from. Nobody is just born half-giant.” 

“I wonder too, we could ask. He wouldn’t mind. He never minds anything.”

“You never mind anything either,” he replied, making you confused. You propped yourself on your elbows. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve never seen you truly upset about anything yet… I was rude because of what I saw in the mirror, Hermione was ticked off by the way me and Ron talked about her after Charms, and Ron gets irritated at least once every day. But you… You help everyone, you know everyone, but you never ask for anything in return and, even if I’ve known you for some time, I still feel like I don’t know much about you compared to how much you know me.” This silenced you, mostly because he was right. At the same time, you could not talk about your problems without revealing the fact that you did not belong there, at least naturally.

“You can always ask me questions,” you replied.

“Alright then, so tell me, how was it before you moved here? What’s your story?” Harry asked, playful but also curious about your hometown. You both laid down on your beds, chatting even past midnight. 

“It was… definitely boring,” you whispered, “I didn’t really get to have as much fun there as I did here.” You paused before answering further. You tried being as vague as possible about your life whilst also giving him details to answer his question. The boy hung to your every word, never having left his town before Hogwarts happened. He was curious about other places. The night fell deeper and your friend was getting drowsy. You made sure that he was completely asleep before hanging up.

You reached for your suitcase. You put away a few clothes and the books Snape lent you. Then, in the corner of your luggage you found what you were looking for. You grabbed the red stone and stared at it as it rested in your palm. You did not think about using it, but something in the back of your head told you it could help. You thought about what came with it. The immortality. Was it really necessary? Many faces you have met in Hogwarts would die and you knew it. Fred, Cedric, Snape… However, if you wanted to save them, would you be able to do it without the curse of immortality? You did not want to think about it. You would let your future self choose. For the time being, you stored it in a used shoe box you had, hiding it in the deepest part of your closet and covering it up with other shoes. It was silly, keeping something so important amidst such mundane objects, but it would do the job for now. You went to sleep as well, setting off to your own dreamland.

Chapter Text

22/07/1992

Laying on your bed, your nose was stuck in Ancient Potions by Miranda Cuni as Harry sat at your desk, focused on drawing a horrendous picture of Dudley and his family to pass time. Your parents have been practically forcing you to begin your studies for next year, but you and the boy still did everything you could to spend time together. You were not even aware of which manuals you would need. All you knew was that you were going to be drowned in Gilderoy Lockhart’s works. In the meantime, you learned everything that you had to know about Snape’s subject. You noticed how a lot of potions in the school’s textbook were featured in the book the man personally picked out for you, but its recipes were far more precise, advanced. You compared the potions and made separate notes, which you stuck in between the pages of Draughts and their Uses for future reference.  

You suddenly heard something pang against your window. 

You and Harry’s heads whipped towards the sound only to see an old, white owl try to force its way in. Recognizing it as Errol’s Ron’s owl, you opened your window, letting a soft wind enter your room as well as the creature. There was a letter attached to its leg with a small, red ribbon. You offered it a treat before unwrapping the paper, revealing a neat handwriting. Hermione’s. She often borrowed his owl because she did not have one for herself. “What is it?” Harry asked, approaching to see the letter. You sat on the bed and he followed you. 

“It’s Hermione,” you said, which got his attention. You began reading the letter aloud:

Hey! 

Hope you have been doing well. Ron and I have been having trouble getting in contact with Harry. We have sent countless owls and he has not responded to any of them. I know you and him are neighbours, so could you please ask him why he is not answering?

Your friend,

Hermione Granger 

PS: Can you tell me what is next year’s required book for Potions? 

Harry frowned at this. “Letters? I haven’t received any letters.”

“Huh, that’s weird,” you replied, “Don’t you still have your owl?”

“I do, and I sent letters. How come they haven’t received anything?” You shrugged in response, taking out a pen and a paper of your own as Errol flew away. Your friend watched over your shoulder as you wrote:

Hey Hermione!

Harry was right next to me when I got your owl. He said he hasn’t gotten any letters. We don’t know why that is, so in the meantime, can you send me your phone number? I’ll pass it to him, it will be easier that way.

Also, the book you’re searching for is “Draughts and their Uses” by Albert Franklin

You signed your letter off with your name, attaching it to your owl’s leg with the same red ribbon and letting it soar. Its wings flapped, sending blades of wind to your face. The air outside and the brightness of the colours reminded you of your own youth. The one you had before coming here. It was fresh, nostalgic. You wanted to see the people you once knew again. This desire made your heart ache in the worst way possible. “I miss them,” the boy admitted, leaning on the windowsill as you were. You looked at your feathered animal becoming a mere dot in the sky as it flew further away. 

“Me too, Harry,” you said. 

******************

31/08/1992

You understood that Harry was having guests over that night. He had called you, his breath wavering. “Hey—! Er, I was just calling to— huff — tell you to not call me tonight please. Or ring my doorbell. Or acknowledge that I exist, please. Can you do that?” There was a sheer panic in his voice as he seemed to be hurrying on the other line. Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and concern. 

“Harry, Harry, calm down. What’s going on?” He scoffed. 

“Vernon’s got people over. From work, apparently, but he’s welcoming them like they’re royalty,” you could almost imagine him rolling his eyes. He had become sassier than when you had first met him. His year in Hogwarts caused him to be bolder, more likely to take risks and less afraid of confrontation, that was clear as day. A loud, sudden clank boomed in your ear, making you draw back from the telephone, wincing. “Sorry, the kitchen’s a mess! I can’t walk without knocking something over. So…” You sighed. 

“I won’t do anything, don’t worry,” you reassured him. Relief washed over him.

“Thank you, thank you!” he praised. You heard voices behind the phone calling out to the boy.

“HURRY UP, BOY! They’ll be there in half an hour and here you are, in this mess you’ve made! Clean it up, go!” Vernon spat. He was full of spite and malice and a weight of superiority deepened his voice. The sound of footsteps grew louder.

“I’ll call you later—” Harry hurriedly whispered before a disconnect tone rang in your ear. You rolled your eyes as you plunged back in the sea that was work. You were recently drowned in it as you got your list of required equipment for your second year. Your parents were lovely, they really were, but when it came to school, they put so much pressure you thought you would burst. If you were not spending time with Harry, you were revising. Luckily, Hermione informed you that she has been studying over the break as well. You were not alone. 

The moon was shining peacefully above your window, illuminating your room with a blue glow. Although the dark of the night would have made you drowsy in any other situation, you could not summon your need to sleep. Your stomach churned at the thought of what tomorrow reserved for you. It would be your first day of school once again and you could not help but feel tingles of excitement bubble through you. You wanted nothing more than to see your friends again and continue classes, far from Privet Drive. It was a warm place, but the people living there could be as cold as ice. Even your parents have been strict with you, if not rigid. You tossed and turned over yourself, your pyjamas clinging to your body uncomfortably and your blanket falling awkwardly over your figure, making you hot. You felt like your room was a furnace from your anticipation. 

CLANK!

You jumped up, startled from the noise. You rushed to open your window, letting the cold air hit you as you looked to your neighbour. There you saw a blue car hovering beside Harry’s place, who’s window had been demolished. Who you assumed was Fred sat in the driver’s seat whilst Ron and George were both in the passenger seat. Its trunk was wide open and faced the wall as your friend hurriedly stuffed his luggage in it. “Go, go, go!” You heard who you assumed was George. The car swiftly turned on itself, making Fred face you. 

His attention diverted from Harry as caught a glimpse of something out of place. His head whipped to your direction and his eyes widened at the sight of you. He shot you a look that said “What are you doing here?” You simply shrugged. 

“Come on, Harry!” Ron pressed the other boy. You heard a door slam open from the other side. 

“PETUNIA, HE’S ESCAPING!” Vernon’s old voice resonated across the entire neighbourhood. Harry suddenly leaped out of his window, stepping in the car. Just in time, his uncle takes a hold of his foot, pulling him back inside. 

“I’ve got you, Harry!” Ron yelled, wrapping his arm around the black-haired boy’s frame. Fred pulled him in by his shirt and George did the same. Harry groaned, trying to kick Vernon’s grubby hands off his foot. 

“COME HERE!” the man barked, his face scrunched in effort. Beads of sweat glistened and rolled down his forehead in an attempt to drag the boy back in the house. 

“Let go of me!” Harry spat at his uncle.

“No, boy! You and that bloody pigeon aren’t going anywhere!” Vernon was practically spitting at his nephew. He bent over the windowsill, his arm extended as much as it could, which was not very far, his hand locked to the boy’s foot. From the comfort of your own house, you watched the scene unravel before your eyes. You did not dare interfere as it would bring nothing relevant. 

“Get off!” the boy with glasses cried out. He laid over the edge of his car seat, ready to fall out of the car. 

“Drive!” Ron demanded, earning a “right!” from Fred. The shorter twin put his weight on the pedal, sending the car jolting in the air. This caused Vernon, who’s grip was relentless on the boy, to tip over the edge of the window. Suddenly, the fat man tripped to the other side, falling off the two-story house in an awful scream. His body seemed to drop painfully slow. You winced when you heard a loud thud as he landed on his back, followed by Petunia’s cries. 

“Dad!” Dudley shouted. Both the boy and his mother stood by the window, staring at Vernon in concern. Harry and his friends, on the other hand, wore ear-to-ear grins as they slammed the car door shut, driving towards your place.  

“Care to join us?” Fred tried tempting you, followed by encouragement from the other three boys. You noticed how Ron has changed over the summer. His features were sharper, he wore his hair shorter and his eyebags seemed more pronounced. You scoffed. As much as your heart begged to go with them, you had no reason to do it. You did not need to escape from your family.

“Very funny, Weasleys,” you started. “Also, aren’t you too young to be driving?”

“Don’t worry, Fred’s bloody good at what he does!” Ron exclaimed, earning a sceptical look from you. 

“Sure… but it’s still a no, thanks.” This made the boys sulk and George booed at you while they turned the steering wheel, ready to soar off. “You can owl me if you want to talk to me so badly!” you said to your two friends. 

“Does that include us too—” Fred and George questioned. You rolled your eyes although you could not stop the grin creeping onto your face. From the corner of your eye, you could see Vernon getting back on his feet. 

“Maybe you should go,” you advised them. “Oh and, Harry… Happy birthday.” The said boy smiled before reluctantly letting his friends drift off, bidding you farewell. You let the cold air cause chills to run down your spine, caressing your skin delicately. The night was quiet apart from your neighbours, who were whining on and on about what had just happened. The blue car eventually faded in the sky like a breath in the wind, leaving only the stars to shine above you. Trees rustled lightly like the sound of a book’s pages turning.  After closing the window, you returned to your bed, sliding under the blanket. Your second year would start tomorrow. The diary… The Chamber… Voldemort. 

You still needed answers. Everything happens for a reason. There was an itching feeling in the back of your mind telling you, murmuring, that apparating here was not a coincidence. 

******************

01/09/1992

“Watch out, please!” 

A dishevelled man holding several owl cages brushed past you along with the waves of people in Diagon Alley. Grey clouds hovered above you and swirled in every direction like brush strokes, covering the entire sky. They danced harmoniously, enchanting the place. The people were as energetic as ever and the loud chatter of the crowd made its way to your ears disgracefully. You had already bought every required book half a month ago, studying them in advance to your parent’s demand. Strolling around, your eyes landed on a silver-rimmed sign above a shop’s entrance, painted in red with many feather designs plastered on it.

Flourish and Blotts

By its name, you would have guessed the store would have had something to do with growing plants, or animal care. Upon entering, the scene before you confirmed otherwise. Books, posters and board games were stacked on one another like endless towers, reaching up for the ceiling. The ground floor was crammed with people and you could barely take a step forward without bumping into someone. You were grateful you rented a compartment to stuff your luggage in at that moment, or else you would have had mighty trouble getting around. Drowning in the crowd, you navigated through the sea of people to reach a wooden staircase on the side of the room which led you to the second floor. To your relief, there was not a soul up there. 

You felt the noise from the people under you amplify itself as more customers pushed through. Body leaning on a rail, you could now properly see the entire room from a small balcony that showed the entrance. As your eyes skimmed over the place, a particular frame caught your attention. On a pile of copies stood a large moving portrait of a man striking a dramatic pose in a desolate area with lightning in the background as if he was all-powerful, the last man standing. You read: “Gilderoy Lockhart” on it, followed by “Magical me” at the bottom. You sighed, shaking your head before turning back around to venture between the many bookshelves stored upstairs. 

You stumbled upon a potions section. Drawing your index out, you brushed over many titles, muttering them under your breath. You bent your legs to reach further down the bookshelf. Upon going to Hogwarts, you had expected your favourite subject to be something that required spell casting, something that involved magic coming out of your wand. Incantations and hexes were interesting, but there was nothing that matched the satisfaction of brewing the perfect potion or scaring the living hell out of Ron with Chinese Chomping Cabbages, which were just nasty orange cabbages that could bite. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, tired of crouching for too long as you began to stand up fully.

You got up too quickly, bumping into someone with your back. “Watch it, plea—” an insolent voice rang. Turning around to apologise, you stopped in your tracks. Blonde hair, snarky face, dark robe with a green emblem. You could recognize that face even if it was covered in dirt. “It’s you ,” he snapped, “Well that’s just the icing on the cauldron’s cake.” You rolled your eyes.

“Not now, Malfoy,” you replied, grazing his shoulder as you walked past him, ready to skedaddle. You did not want to deal with him. 

“What? Sticking to the goody-two-shoes Hufflepuff act?” You frowned, facing him again. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean…” he took a step forward, growing closer to you. “Don’t act like you hate confrontations. I can still feel it, y’know?” he remarked.  You tilted your head in confusion. He looked at you as if you were stupid, as if you forgot something as important as the sun. “The punch? You punched me!” You wanted to burst out laughing. The sheer amount of pettiness coming from Draco was unparalleled. He looked so troubled for something so little that had happened a year ago, his pale face melted in the biggest of frowns as he crossed his arms. The corners of your mouth bent in a downwards smile. “You think it’s funny, do you?” he spat. You shook your head extremely fast, making you wonder how you did not snap your neck right there and then. 

“No—” you were interrupted by your own chuckle. You covered your mouth with your hand, waving the other in front of you in a dismissive manner. “I’m not— I wouldn’t laugh. No, it’s not funny. Not funny.” You were doing great containing yourself until one of his eyebrows shot up. 

“Oh, don’t laugh !” he exclaimed in his thick accent, throwing his arms up in desperation. Suddenly, he looked at you deep in the eyes through his eyelashes. “What we need is a proper duel.” Your giggling immediately ceased and you blinked at him owlishly. 

“You’re out of your mind.” The boy got even closer to you, his mouth next to your ear. You could feel his cold body invading your space, making you shift uncomfortably.

“Am I?” he whispered to not draw attention, “Or are you just scared?” He pulled back, satisfied with seeing your troubled expression. “We could have a real battle, a duel. Strongest wizard wins.” Draco seemed beyond excited to make that happen. There was a hunger in his eyes to humiliate you, and it made your stomach churn. 

“No, thanks,” you replied, feigning confidence. “I’m not interested.” You turned your heels, leaving the perplexed boy behind as you made your way down the staircase.

“No, wait!” he whisper-yelled, itching for attention. You smirked to yourself, feeling his cold hand wrap around your forearm and spin you around to face him. The two of you were standing in the middle of the old, creaky stairs. “Don’t try to act like a saint now—” The boy was cut off by an elderly woman. The old lady was walking up the stairs, trying not to trip because of her crooked cane and long robe. The blonde saw her and swiftly drew you aside, his hands on your shoulders, letting the witch pass by with a small “thank you, young man”. He nodded in appreciation and glanced at you, his face still stone cold. You and him non verbally agreed to not disturb her with your bickering, letting an awkward silence flow in between the two of you as the woman reached the second floor. Draco was insufferable, but he was not above basic manners. He realised that he had kept his hand on your shoulder, so he hastily let it go and began leaning on the stair’s railing. Once she was gone, you spoke up.

“Rich coming from a guy like you,” you murmured for only him to hear, imitating his actions and leaning on the wooden structure. It felt dry and cold, like sandpaper under your palms.  He scoffed.

“I know you’re just scared,” he accused, pointing a finger at you. You could practically feel his breath fanning your face and you recoiled slightly. “Scared of being humbled, overpowered…” He was trying to provoke you, but you saw right through him. 

“Sure, sure,” you dismissed, “Believe what you want to believe, but it’s still a no from me. Now, spare me from having to see that haircut again and go away,” you told him, slightly perturbed. You see from miles away that he tried way too hard to keep up with his appearance. It was easily one of his weaker spots. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Not surprised a simpleton such as yourself wouldn’t grasp the concept of a refined hairstyle—” he weakly retorted before being interrupted. 

“Oh, Harry!” You and Draco’s heads whipped towards the voice calling out to your friend. There you spotted a great deal of redheads amidst the crowd, all welcoming a dirty boy wearing his signature round glasses and a curly-haired girl. Your lips tugged up at the sight of them whilst the Slytherin next to you scowled. Molly spoke to Harry again. “Thank goodness! We’d hoped you’d only gone one grate too far.” The woman brushed the dust off him, smiling her heart out. The first floor was crammed with far too many people for the store to handle. 

“Looks like your friend’s here,” said Malfoy before the store clerk took the floor. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he gave a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling in pride and stepping aside to reveal the person behind him, “Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart!” Witches and wizards alike— mostly witches— clapped, filling the room with enthusiasm. A man made his appearance, the same one you saw on that moving portrait earlier. He was dressed in what you assumed to be an incredibly expensive blue robe with extravagant accessories, his deep azul cravat ruffling at his neck. Now that you could see him from your own eyes, you noticed how his dirty blonde hair was infuriatingly perfect, how his pride oozed off him and how he slightly bore the resemblance of a giraffe. You and Draco simultaneously scorned Lockhart, your faces pulled down in the deepest glare. 

“What’s so special about him?” he murmured under his breath. You were not one to fraternise with the enemy, but you knew there were things you were bound to agree on. You hummed in assent. The customers were still clapping politely, trying to contain their excitement as to not create a ruckus. Molly looked particularly charmed as she fidgeted with her hair, trying to smoothe it down. 

“Mum fancies him,” you could hear Ron say, which earned a slightly perturbed look from you, Harry and Draco, who clearly did not want to know that bit of information.

“Make way there, please,” the vendor started organising the place. “Let me by, madam. Thank you—” Suddenly, a man wearing a crooked pointy hat made his way in front of Lockhart, a huge device in his hands. He seemed nervous and timorous as he navigated through the store. He held his camera like a child holding onto a lollipop; It was as if it was about to fly right out of his hands.

“Excuse me, little girl,” he said to Hermione, eventually pointing his gadget to the famous man in front. “This is for the Daily Prophet.” The wizard snapped a photo of Lockhart, but the said man’s stare was distant, far away. His eyes were locked to your black haired friend’s, unwavering. There was a look of denial, then of admiration from him.

“It can’t be…” Lockhart murmured. The entire room hung on to his every word as if they were sacred, like a priest to a believer. “Harry Potter?” 

Everyone’s eyes landed on the poor boy, shifting uncomfortably from the attention he was given. Suddenly, the same dishevelled man from the Daily Prophet grabbed Harry by the shoulder. “Harry Potter!” he exclaimed, bringing him forth, placing him next to Gilderoy Lockhart like a mere accessory. 

It was the man in blue’s turn to get a grip on the boy, pulling him towards him and wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “Nice, big smile, Harry,” he said, “Together, you and I rate the front page!” A flash coming from the camera blinded you for a second. “Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is! When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, Magical Me—” He had not even finished speaking and every witch in the room began applauding for the man, as if they thought of him higher than Merlin himself. You tutted to yourself, disapproving of the future professor. 

“Ridiculous,” Draco muttered under his own breath. 

“ —Which, incidentally, is currently celebrating its twenty-seventh week atop the Daily Prophet bestseller list, he had no idea that he would be, in fact, leaving with my entire collected works—” He shoved an endless pile of books to Harry’s chest, who lost balance for a second, “ —free of charge!” 

The crowd began cheering anew, this time louder than before. The ladies seemed particularly charmed by his open display of generosity, striking their hearts with Cupid’s arrows. Molly, being no exception, looked as if her heart melted. 

“You still owe me a duel,” Draco told you with a smirk. You sighed exasperatedly. 

“Just leave,” you replied, making it sound as if you were begging, much to your dismay. His eyes tore away from your figure and into the crowd. 

“Your wish is my command.”

Why would he say that? You were not friends. His tone was playful, teasing. You quickly understood the mischief under his words as he waltzed down the stairs, slithering onto Harry’s way out of the store. Your friend seemed to have enough on his plate already, and now the blonde was about to bother him further. You quickly rushed after Malfoy to stop his harmless, but still annoying confrontation; However, you were too late. 

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?” the Slytherin started, his words laced with jocosity. Harry was quick to frown at the much taller boy in front of him, displeased by the meeting. It was only when he glanced at you that his eyes sparkled in a mix of confusion and joy. His stomach flipped at the sight of you, happy to see his friend, but he could not find a reason as to why you were just with Draco. “Famous Harry Potter,” the Malfoy mocked, “Can’t go into a bookshop without making the first page!” You raised your eyebrows sassily, something you had picked up from hanging out with Harry often. 

“Someone’s jealous,” you said, making the Weasley children snicker next to the boy with glasses and the girl. 

“Will you shut your—”

Suddenly, a small thud made its way to your ears. Your eyes travelled ever so slowly to the cane that landed harshly on Draco’s shoulder. The black and silver wand, adorned with a snake head, was being held by a tall man who’s hair was so long and blonde that it could be mistaken as white. You looked up at him and, at that moment, you have never felt so small, so meek, before someone else. His body seemed to tower over you, his eyes piercing through the soul of anyone who dared look at him. You felt intimidated , and you could sense your friends feel the same. 

“Now, now, Draco. Play nicely,” he said. His voice could be compared to the sound of quills scribbling on a smooth piece of parchment. It was elegant, rich. His appearance reflected him perfectly; There was not a single hair nor piece of clothing astray. His black overcoat screamed classic. Anyone could tell that his taste did not come from the money that he earned, but from generational wealth. He lightly pushed Draco aside, stepping in to face your famous friend. “Mr. Potter,” he smiled, as if his name was a conspiracy in itself. Harry and Ron were put off by the man’s demeanour as he put out a hand for the boy to shake. “Lucius Malfoy… We meet at last—” Startling everyone, the older Mafloy rapidly pulled Harry up against him, dragging his cold wand against his forehead, where his scar hid. “Forgive me… Your scar is legend. As, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you,” he said with a deceptive smile.

“Voldemort killed my parents,” Harry replied with no hesitation. Cold-blooded. He pushed himself off the man whose face morphed into one of surprise. “He was nothing more than a murderer.”

There was a long silence after his words. From him claim to the use of the Dark Lord’s name. Lucius Malfoy hummed shortly.

“You must be very brave to mention his name—” he replied, standing tall above all of you. Although Harry was significantly shorter, he aspired almost just as much respect. “ —or very foolish,” he finished with a blood curdling smile that iced your veins. 

Unexpectedly for everyone, Hermione’s high, but strong voice, resonated. “Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.” Lucius Malfoy frowned slightly and faced her, as if he had only noticed her presence then. 

“And you must be… Miss Granger?” he tried, looking at his son for confirmation. Draco nodded in reply. Hermione was unfazed, her glare not settling anywhere else than in the other man’s eyes. She was fiery. “Yes, Draco has told me all about you. And your parents…” he said as he held his chin high in superiority. You all collectively glanced at her parents, who were enraptured in a conversation with Arthur Weasley. “Muggles, aren’t they?” He chuckled before his gaze landed on you. This sent a cold shiver down your spine, your skin tingling as if feathers were sweeping along your body. “And you. You hurt my son.” You felt your blood run cold and his stare became a glare. He looked down at you with all the power in the world. “Yes… yes, I know you. Muggle parents too, from what Draco told me. I just can not wait for…” he quickly stopped himself before saying something he should not. You frowned in confusion along with some of your peers. The man clenched his fist and looked around. “Let me see.  Red hair, vacant expressions, tatty second-hand book—” he listed. You recognised this moment. He would sneak Tom Riddle’s diary in the youngest redhair’s cauldron. You readied yourself. For what? You yourself did not know as your heart beat hard incessantly. The man got a hold of a book in Ginny’s cauldron, “ —You must be the Weasleys,” he teased. Arthur noticed Lucius Malfoy from afar and quickly strode over to where you stood. 

“Children!” he called, “It’s mad in here, let’s go outside—” 

“Well, well, well, Weasley senior,” Lucius addressed. The oldest Weasley looked up at the man, clearly wanting no trouble. 

“Lucius…”

“Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, all those extra raids? I do hope they’re paying you overtime… but judging by the state of this—” he gestured to the old state of the books, “ —I’d say not. What’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

“We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” Arthur replied without missing a beat. 

“Clearly,” Lucius said, his voice lower, as if he was muttering a threat. “Associating with Muggles…” he came over to you, placing the book back in the girl’s cauldron along with a new black leathered one. You froze. “And I thought your family could sink no lower… I’ll see you at work.” The man turned his heels away, marching off with the smaller Malfoy trailing at his steps. 

Before completely leaving, Draco faced Harry. “See you at school,” he muttered threateningly. He then turned to you. “Don’t forget about what I’ve said.” 

He finally left, leaving all of you in the store, slightly shaken by the turn of events. You were still curious about what his father was about to say. What he tried to conceal. “I just can not wait for…”   Wait for what? You doubt Malfoy talked about you to his father that much. 

At the moment, the subject of attention was the leather diary that sat in Ginny’s cauldron. Your eyes burned holes at the book as you remembered what Voldemort had told you months ago. Thoughts raced in your head. Should you take it and talk to the man himself? You remembered his words from last year. 

“I know you…” he said.

The dark wizard’s words echoed in your mind. I know you, I know you . You felt your fingers tingling as they reached towards Ginny’s cauldron. 

“What a plonker,” Fred muttered.

“Exactly my thoughts,” George added. Your friends seemed enraptured in their conversation. You did not know what they talked about; Their voices felt muffled. A ringing in your ear grew by the second and your vision tunnelled. You got closer to the girl, hand making its way to the cauldron. You could hear your own heart pounding against your ribcage, threatening to break your bones. Just a little more…

“We’re going to be late!” Molly shrieked. She quickly pushed the children forward. Frustration filled you as you shut your eyes.

******************

Gusts of wind battled against you as you rushed towards the Platform 9 ¾. You huffed as your weight was shifted from one foot to another, fighting with all of your might to arrive on time. Your encounter with the Malfoys slowed you down immensely. It was around 10:55 a.m. and the Weasleys along with Harry were still far behind you. Eventually, you saw the platform and wasted no time running through it. Normally, you would have hesitated before running straight into a wall, but the urgency of the situation made you not able to care less. Passing through the platform felt like receiving a fresh breeze, that was it. 

To your delight, you saw the red train next to you, vapour coming out of the engine as it was getting ready to depart. The twins, Percy and Ginny arrived shortly after a porter took your luggage. They followed your steps and panted, worn out from the run. 

“Hurry up!” you exclaimed on the train’s entrance stairs. The Weasleys whipped their heads towards you and smiled warmly at the familiar face.

“Seems like we landed close to being late,” George said, a hint of triumph in his voice as they followed you. 

“Speaking of late,” Fred started, “I don’t think our two friends made it…”

All of you heard the clock strike 11:00 a.m. along with the train conductor yelling “ALL ABOARD” on the top of his lungs. You quickly scrambled to get inside as quickly as possible. Percy muttered something under his breath against his family amongst the lines of “If I were late, my title as prefect would have been on the line!” while he strutted away, leaving all of you with a nervous Ginny. As you and the twins collected yourselves, you were about to slide the door shut behind you before you heard a desperate voice crying out.  

“Wait!” 

The Hogwarts Express gradually began moving forward with a deafening whistle. The voice was strained, tired. The train went further until a boy wearing a loose dark green jump came into view, running alongside you with his arm extended towards the entrance. 

“ Theo? ” you called out, bewildered.

“You know him?” Fred asked over your shoulder.

“Don’t just stand there, bloody hell, HELP ME!” Nott screamed, trying to keep up with the train’s speed. Your stomach churned. The engine was getting faster by the second and you knew that Theo’s father would have his skin if he did not get on board. Quickly tipping over the edge of the train entrance, you extended your arm towards him, but you rapidly realised that you were too far ahead to reach him by an arm length. The boy’s face melted into one of pure distress. You could hear his panting above the screeching of the tires. 

“George, Fred, help!” you screamed. The boys scrambled to help, their eyebrows shooting to their hairline in anxiety. Fred’s hands made their way around your forearm as you went over the edge of the train, hovering above the ground. George, who was unsure of what to do, wrapped his arms around his brother for greater stability. The three of you formed a tight rope for Nott, whose legs were almost ready to give out. The train let out another ear-splitting whistle, making Nott flinch. The only thing holding you back from falling off the train was Fred. Your foot has left the platform and the other was barely touching it. You were losing your patience, growing scared by the height. “Hold my hand! Faster!” you tried encouraging. 

Nott finally gave a final burst of energy and his hand clasped over yours in a satisfying clap, making your palm tingle. You broke in a pleased grin. “Pull us over!” Theo yells at the twins, who quickly tugged at your arm to bring you and your friend over the edge. You were suddenly pulled back, holsting up the boy in the process. 

You have never been so glad to feel the ground under your feet. Fred grabbed your shoulders to stabilise you as you did the same with Theodore. His brown locks were shaken out of place, creating a messy whirlwind of waves. You turned to the twins. “Thank you, thank you!” They laughed in response.

“It’s quite alright, that was nothing,” George kindly dismissed, “Consider it a treat for that lollipop we gave you.” His brother snorted at that, slapping his shoulder playfully.

“That was a nasty one! That hair colour-changing spell was brilliant!” he replied. You looked at them in confusion before the memory popped back into your head. 

“You forgot this!” Fred said, handing you a large rainbow lollipop…

“I want to see the look on that Hufflepuff’s face when the cand—” the door shut, cutting George off and muffling his voice.

You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you simply said. The twins’ faces fell. 

“You… You did eat it, right?” the smaller redhead tried confirming. You stood silent, glancing at Theo who came to understand the situation. He tried concealing his laughter. “Right?” 

“It was good meeting you guys again,” you told them, “but I think we should get inside.” Showcasing your best smile, you gently grabbed your friend by the shoulders and dragged him inside the train, shutting the door behind you. 

“But- Hey, wait—!” George was interrupted by the slamming of the door. You and Nott skedaddled to find a compartment, leaving the brothers behind as they gave up and went to go find Lee Jordan instead.

“Good to see you, Thompson,” the brown-haired boy finally said, meeting your eye with a smirk. You reciprocated the smile. 

“Good to see you too, Nott.”

Finding an empty compartment was a miracle. You both happily settled in peacefully, unshaken from the recent events. The boy had not stopped thanking you since the second you sat down. 

You were happy with him, and he was happy with you. He was described as a loner, someone solitary, by many of your peers such as Hermione, but you have never seen that side of him. He had always been more of a social butterfly around you, and you had no idea why. You stared at him through the corner of your eye as he rambled. The both of you were laying down along the seats, facing the ceiling. He had grown a significant amount during the summer, startling you. Everyone seemed to have changed, but it was different. His baby fat had almost vanished completely at such a young age, defining his jawline and his sunken eyes. He had also gotten taller, you noticed, as you two rambled on and on. 

“I understand why I like Snape; He’s a good bloke to people like us. At least, people like me . Slytherin, pureblood, yada yada. But how do you tolerate him? I’ve seen the way he treats other houses. Have you seen how he kicked Hopkins out of the class because he was holding eye contact for too long? Something about ‘trying to defy his authority’,” he scoffed. 

“At the beginning of the year, it was bad. And I mean bad . I remember him trying to fail me just because my partner screwed up the potion. But he became nicer, for some reason. Probably because I stopped being bad at his subject.”

“‘Stopped being bad’? I reckon you’re quite literally the best potions student in our year. Anyways, no offence, but whether you’re good or not in Potions, he won’t care. Everyone knows he’s been trying to snag the Dark Arts' post for years.” This was the kind of gossip that circulated in the castle. Boarding school meant that, anytime there was a slight entertaining event or rumour, students would make the most out of it and extrapolate. “He was constantly on your back last year, even more than Potter! I swear, it was as if the man was a Niffler and you had gold up your arse—” 

You burst out laughing, your chest constricting from the action. “ Excuse me? ” you exclaimed, “How could you say that!”

“I mean, I like Snape, I truly do…”

“But,” you both said at the same time, earning a full grin from him.

“But he’s an…” he started, beginning to murmur, “I’m not allowed to say such insults.”

“What insult?” you provoked, raising your eyebrows. He looked at you with a hesitating smile. 

“The word with arse and hole in it, but joined together.” His words made you chuckle. 

“You literally just said it—”

“It’s not the same! I need to say them together!” 

“Sure,” you said, dragging out the word. The boy looked up at the ceiling, bringing his hand to rest under his head. 

“My dad would kill me if he heard me say anything like that,” he admitted in slight defeat, “He’s very strict when it comes to how I present myself.” To your surprise, his tone became serious, strict. His eyes were set to gaze above him, as if he could not bring himself to look at you, show his vulnerability. “Anything I do, anything I need to know, he tells me.” After a moment of silence, he finally turns to you. You decide not to say anything for now. He just needed an ear to spill his thoughts to, even if it was just for a minute. You had grown to become close together last year and, although you had only corresponded with him in the summer, you felt as if the last time you saw him was yesterday. Everything felt natural between you. You did not know Theodore’s story or how his role in Voldemort’s rising, and it made you feel as if your connection was a lot more genuine. To him, on the other hand, you were a perfect listener. Attentive, caring. The reason why being nice to you was so easy was because you never expected anything in return. That was something the boy and many others admired in you, and yet you kept humble. You often failed to see that good in you, and it baffled him. “Please… Tell me what he says is false.”

You frowned, looking at him. His eyes twinkled in something you could mistake as sadness, or anger, you did not know. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that…” he paused, gathering up the courage to tell you, “He’s said things about mud- Muggleborns. He keeps going on and on about how they’re unworthy and, if they had the opportunity… would turn against purebloods.” He saw that you were not offended, but on the contrary, were understanding. This made him relax, his pounding heart decelerating. “Be honest, please . I won’t ask again, I swear.”

He waited patiently for an answer. You thought about it for a moment before speaking up in a gentle tone. “If I was given the opportunity to cause you harm, do you think I would take it?” This threw him off, but his expression remained the same. He was focused on you. At that moment, you could only hear the muffled sound of the clanking train racks and the chugging of the engine. 

“No, I don’t think you would- I know you wouldn’t,” he replied, and there was his answer. 

The rest of the train ride was spent talking about much less serious topics, except for the Potions tutoring. You ate, played chess, everything. Over time, Theo started getting overwhelmed with his day, claiming that he was tired. It was only when he pointed it out that you felt your own fatigue crash over you like a wave. The boy handed you a few galleons. “Keep an eye out for the cart lady and get a chocolate frog for me while I try to nap. Get something for yourself as well,” he said.

“Trying to nap” was an understatement for that boy. The second his head made contact with his robe that served as a pillow, he was knocked out cold. His mouth hung open in a small snore and his arms were spread randomly. He looked out of it . You took that moment of peace to dress in your robes. Your Hufflepuff ensign seemed to glow a golden colour under the sunlight. 

You looked out the window, seeing the beautiful mountains stretch in the horizon. The green grass danced on the ground and the fog hovered high enough to not cloud the view. The familiar view. The very familiar view.

Your eyes landed on what you recognised to be Ron’s flying car. The engine was twirling around itself furiously, unstable. Your eyes widened, but you stayed quiet so as to not wake up your resting friend. Your nose was practically pressed flat against the glass as you watched the scene unravel before you. As the car turned on itself, its door suddenly opened, throwing Harry out of the vehicle. The black-haired boy was quick to get a grip on the handle and you could not help but gasp as he tried to reach for Ron’s hand to pull him back up. 

Theodore’s snores ceased and looked at you with half-lidded eyes, confused. “What is it?” he croaked. You did not have the heart to answer, so instead, he followed your gaze. He was able to see Harry dangling off the car, snapping him awake in the blink of an eye. “What is happening…” he muttered to himself, punctuating every word with his thick accent. “Is that Harry?” You nodded vehemently. “Merlin…” Slowly, you saw the boy climb his way back in the car from afar. The wind battled against him as he summoned all the energy he had in his body to get to safety. Theodore exhaled in solace watching him before laying back down, glancing one last time towards the car. His laid back behaviour surprised you. 

“How can you be so calm? He almost just died!” you questioned, sitting back down in your seat. Your friend shrugged while closing his eyes. Perhaps he wanted to think about something else to deal with what he had just seen, you thought. You let it be.

******************

“GET A MOVE ON!”

You jumped from up your nap, your eyes half-lidded and groggy from the rest. Hagrid’s thunderous voice could be heard from miles away. Looking around, you noticed Theodore in the same state as you; tired and reluctant to get up. You eventually had to drag him out of the compartment, then the train. 

You have not expected the ceremony to take so long. You were incredibly hungry and your lower stomach rumbled so much, you could practically feel it vibrate. You cheered every time someone entered Hufflepuff, but even then, your fatigue seemed to take over you. Even Susan and Hannah seemed to have noticed it as you rested your head on your hand. You tried to keep yourself distracted by the star-lit ceiling, but the second the food appeared and you took the first bite, it was as if your problems never existed. 

You caught a glimpse of multiple confused faces from the students in your year. Theodore, Hannah, Susan, Ernie, and even Draco asked you where Harry and Ron went off on your way to the dorms. You assumed the Gryffindors understood they were late from the Weasley family.

Exhausted.

You could barely stand on your own. It was nearly 10:00 p.m. and Susan and Hannah seemed to be in the same vegetative state as you. You were practically shells  because of how tired you were. Getting some shut eye, your mind wandered to Ginny’s diary.

Chapter Text

02/09/1992

Most green students cherished the belief that Salazar Slytherin was one of the greatest and most powerful wizards. The rest, however, would rather think of him as the coldest wizard of all time. The man’s hatred for muggle-borns ran deep. It was no secret that he had wanted to purge so-called “Mudbloods” out of Hogwarts. 

The cold dungeon air pierced your skin in the most uncomfortable way and many Slytherin students coming out of their dorm eyed you. Yet, you marched in the halls with nothing but excitement. 

It was only until your eyes landed on a familiar entrance that you finally let yourself grin. The Potions classroom was by far one of the places you missed the most. It was mundane, but it still held a special place in your heart. Your books clutched anxiously in your grasp, you knocked on the wooden door. You were not even sure if Snape would be there this early, but a familiar voice quickly made relief flood through you.

“Come in,” Snape said on the other side, as monotone as ever. He sounded vaguely annoyed. You let out a sharp exhale before pushing the door and entering. A violent smell of powder and herbs kicked your nose. If you did not know any better, you would have loved nothing more than to make a u-turn, but you were there for a reason. 

“Hello, Professor Snape,” you greeted, walking up to his desk. Dust flew everywhere in the classroom, practically blinding you. The man looked up from what you assumed was the Daily Prophet . “I’ve come to give these back to you.” You kept the Potions textbook in your dorm for the time being, but you placed the rest gently on the older man’s oak desk. Snape, with an uncharacteristic delicacy, took them in his own hands and got up, not bothering to thank you. He stopped midway as his eyes glanced over a specific book. His book. The one he made himself. He trailed his thumb over it and, in an excruciatingly sedated motion, brought it up for you to see. 

“How did you find this?” he slowly questioned. He looked down at you, as if getting ready to reprimand you in case you did not enjoy your reading, or worse, if you did not read it at all. Much to his surprise, you smiled. 

“I really liked it,” you answered in full honesty. “It brought a new perspective, I think.” Inquiring Snape for mildly personal information never left students satisfied, yet, you tried yourself. “Is this published?” you said, your voice getting stuck in your throat as the older man’s gaze pierced through yours. 

“Don’t pose any more sordid questions” he sneered. You snapped your mouth shut, allowing the professor to place the books back in his library. “For this year, I am asking you and Mr. Nott to find other partners, preferably Slytherin pupils as they seem to be the only ones interested in the art of Potions,” he said, his voice grim flat as he spoke over his shoulder. He turned around, his cape flying behind him as he suddenly came close to you. “I do not want to see you two sticking to each other. It would not benefit anyone. Additionally, I wish to give you a recommendation,” he muttered, piquing your attention. He put his hands on a newspaper laying on his desk and held it up for you to see. On the front page, you recognized Ron’s car as it was flying in the sky. “I saw your friends are quite the troublemakers… I suggest you stop sticking to the wrong kind. It taints the good one.”

You took a moment to catch your breath. 

“Stop sticking to the wrong kind. It taints the good one.”

His figure loomed over yours in the dark classroom and you could not help but feel intimidated. You were displeased by the way he talked down to your friends, but somewhat joyful by being called “good”, you, a Muggle-Born. The man has never shown great prowess in flattery as his comments were always backhanded. Nonetheless, you took the compliment. “Yes, professor,” you agreed, although you were not to adhere to his advice, “I’ll pass the message to Nott, and thank you for your… recommendation.” Snape curtly nodded. 

He mumbled a rare “thank you” before turning back to his desk, sitting down and grabbing a quill. You were left befuddled and refused to move for a moment as your ears picked up his words, as confusing and clear as they were. 

The man, who has always been rumoured to be the coldest, had just thanked you. 

The walk back to the Great Hall was difficult. Students crowded the hallways and you had behind you a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor student, both completely lost as they followed you to your destination. 

The second you had taken a seat and looked at your schedule, you were brought back to reality. It read: 

Hufflepuff weekly schedule:

Monday and Thursday

6:30 a.m. - 8:30 a.m.: Breakfast

9:00 a.m. - 10:20 a.m.: Herbology

10:30 a.m. - 11:50 a.m.: History of magic

12:00 p.m. - 1:10 p.m.: Lunch

1:10 p.m. - 2:30 p.m.: Defense Against the Dark Arts

2:40 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.: Charms

6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.: Dinner

9:00 p.m. - 6:00 a.m.: Curfew

Tuesday

6:30 a.m. - 8:30 a.m.: Breakfast

9:00 a.m. - 10:20 a.m.: Transfiguration

10:30 a.m. - 11:50 a.m.: Flying

12:00 p.m. - 1:10 p.m.: Lunch

1:10 p.m. - 2:30 p.m.: Potions

2:40 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.: Potions

6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.: Dinner

9:00 p.m. - 6:00 a.m.: Curfew

Wednesday and Friday

6:30 a.m. - 8:30 a.m.: breakfast

9:00 a.m. - 10:20 a.m.: Herbology

10:30 a.m. - 11:50 a.m.: Transfiguration

12:00 p.m. - 1:10 p.m.: lunch

1:10 p.m. - 2:30 p.m.: Flying

2:40 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.: Defense Against the Dark Arts

6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.: Dinner

9:00 p.m. - 6:00 a.m.: Curfew

Please note that every Thursday, 12:00 a.m., will be spent at the astronomy tower for telescope observations.

“It’s a blessing that we don’t have to deal with Professor Snape on the first day of school! I do not have the energy for that right now,” Hannah, whom you have not seen in quite some time, said, her Irish accent dripping from her words. Your focus did not stray from the parchment in your hands. 

The weather was extraordinarily dull as clouds painted the sky grey, but the fresh breeze cooled you enough to feel comfortable. As you made your way to the Greenhouses for your first Herbology lesson, the prickly grass tickled your ankles and the air smelled fresh. Your eyes landed on your glass classroom, and you could see your teacher already chatting up Neville. The green glass classroom was already open so you took your spot at a station and put on your gardening robe before recognizing faces as more students flooded in the room. 

Soon enough, Nott arrived and waved at you excitedly before walking to the station to your right. You chatted a bit and, to your disdain, Draco had taken right next to you. Before you could make a snarky remark to Theo, you spotted three familiar faces: Harry, Hermione and Ron, all staring at you and, more specifically, the Slytherin boy, with confusion and a hint of disgust. Their eyes met yours and they quickly averted their gazes. The boy with the scar looked distraught. 

“Morning, everyone!” an old, feminine voice croaked. Everyone, including you, were so enraptured in their own conversation, the grey-haired lady had to bang her wand against her desk multiple times to get your attention. “Good morning, everyone!” she yelled out to the students. You snapped out of your chat. 

“Good morning, Professor Sprout,” you all said at the same time. The woman nodded in satisfaction. 

“Welcome to Greenhouse Three, second years–” she announced, then making gestures with her arms for all of you to get closer to the plotting tables in front of you. “Now gather around, everyone! Today, we are going to re-pot mandrakes.” The teacher turned around and bent down to grab two giant pots; one with mandrake leaves sticking out of it and another with a slight hole in the soil. “Who can tell me the properties of the mandrake root?” As expected, Hermione’s hand flung above her. “Yes, Miss Granger?” The girl looked as if she was readying herself to answer the question perfectly. 

“Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been petrified to their original state,” she says, articulating all of her words to sound as if she was reading them off a book. Draco mimicked her to his friends in a subtle, but mocking way, and they tried hiding their smiles and giggles. The teacher herself was nodding along to her words, eyes wide and confused as to why the girl sounded almost robotic. “It’s also dangerous. The Mandrake’s cry is fatal to anyone who hears it.” Sprout’s eyes were wide and she looked a bit stiff. 

“Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor!” she immediately yelled out. The said house looked bubbly. Most Slytherins, however, had murderous glares. 

“ All of this for house points, ” you thought. 

“As our mandrakes are still only seedlings, their cries won’t kill you yet, but they can knock you out for several hours, which is why I have given you earmuffs for auditory protection,” she told the class, “So could you please put them on right away?” As she said this, you all scurried to put on the muffs. Nobody wanted to end up knocked out for hours. “Quickly!” she urged. The professor showed the right way to put them on. “Flaps tight down, and watch me closely! You grasp your mandrake firmly–”” Her hands gripped onto the leaves of her own mandrake. “–You pull it sharply up from the pot!” Suddenly, she did as she said and an intense cry rang in your ears. You put your hands to your earmuffs, pressing them down onto your ears as much as possible. The cry of the mandrake as it was pulled out was so high your vision blurred for a split second. You felt a sharp pain on both sides of your head. Everyone seemed to feel the same as you. “Got it!?” Sprout’s voice felt faint. “And… now, you dunk it down into the other pot and pour a little sprinkling of soil to keep him warm!” She hurriedly put tons of soil around the mandrake until it was completely covered and stopped crying. Neville, unfortunately, rolled his eyes and fell straight on his back with a thud, unconscious. Multiple students next to you laughed, including Nott. This made the teacher sigh. “Longbottom’s been neglecting his earmuffs…” she said. Seamus looked over to his friend, then back to the professor. 

“No ma’am,” he told her bluntly, “He’s just fainted.” The teacher seemed muddled.

“Yes… Well– er– just leave him there.” Theodore stifled a giggle at her words, his shoulders shaking in laughter. You nudged him with your elbow. 

“Don’t laugh,” you warned, trying to hide your own smile. Unexpectedly, Sprout spoke up. 

“Actually, Thompson, would you please escort Longbottom to the Hospital Wing? I fear you already know your way around this plant.” Your smile instantly dropped whilst Nott let out a snort. You instantly sighed to yourself. It is true that you had a knack for Herbology, but you would have rathered not missing out on a class. 

“Yes, professor,” you told her. “Why is it always me that has to bring him?” you complained to yourself, making a few people within earshot laugh as you walked towards Neville. You took out your abnormally sharp wand out of its case before waving it at the boy. “ Levioso, ” you casted, lifting Neville’s body off the ground and dragging him out of the classroom by foot. 

******************

The Great Hall exploded with the students’ chatter as you waited with Hannah sitting in front of you. The live room smelled like dust and old parchment, and you were beginning to wish it smelled like food instead.  Usually, Hannah would have been the first to get to the lunch hall, then you, then Susan, and you could not eat before all three of you were seated. That day, however, Susan seemed to take her sweet time to get there. 

“Where could she be?” Hannah thought out loud, bending her body backwards from her seat to look at every corner of the room.  You sighed, your head resting on your palm. “I know she had a hard time in transfiguration, though. She forgot everything from last year! What if she’s not okay? What if she’s crying?” She hypothesised frantically. 

“I doubt Transfiguration was that painful for her,” mumbled, looking down at the table and dragging your finger in circles. You felt your stomach growl. 

“I’ll go look for he–” Hannah was about to get up from her seat until her eyes spotted your friend behind you. ‘What is happening?” You frowned in confusion and looked back, eyebrows digging even further once you saw the redhead. 

Susan came up from behind you, drenched from head to toe due to a small thundering cloud above her, following her every movement. The poor girl looked defeated. People around were staring at her and she was humiliated. You got up and put your hands on her arms to comfort her, unbothered by the cloud’s rain wetting your sleeves. 

“What happened?” you questioned, looking up at the phenomenon. Susan, who’s gaze never left the floor, mumbled. 

“Nothing.” You and Hannah shared glances. You both did not want to pressure the girl into answering. You let go of your friend. 

You were about to head to Macgonagall’s office to search for a cure when a voice rang. “There’s nothing you can do except wait for her to be soaked,” it said. You whipped your head towards the voice and instantly recognised the tall, brunette Hufflepuff. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid you just need to wait it out.” Susan sighed.

“Thanks, Diggory,” she said sadly. 

Your gaze did not leave him. He turned to you. “I believe we haven’t met,” he said as he stuck his hand out, charisma practically dripping from him, “I’m Cedric Diggory.” Despite your heart dropping, you gathered your courage and took his hand in yours. Your short introduction was cut off by the cloud above Susan suddenly vanishing.  “Didn’t take too long,” Cedric commented while he took out his dark wand, “ Evanesco. ”

As soon as he said this, your friend dried up as if she had not touched a single drop of water. She looked down at her robes in contentment, then at the male next to you as she cried a million “thank you”s, leaving Cedric flustered. 

Her fuss was cut short by a ginormous amount of food appearing on the tables in a woosh. This startled a few people including you, but you quickly turned your back on the recent events to fill your empty stomachs. Soon enough, your plate was filled. You did not even have the time to inspect everything you put on it before you started eating. You had grown used to cooking your own food every day with the Thompsons, and finally being served felt like a luxury. It made the food at Hogwarts taste even better. You were halfway through your lunch when you heard an abominably high screech across the Hall, followed by a thundering voice. 

“RONALD WEASLEY!” Your heart jumped and you almost choked on your food. You quickly twisted your body towards the Gryffindor table, where the said boy sat there, red in the face. The poor redhead had his hands up to his face and was trembling as the entire Hall looked at him. 

“Your friend’s got himself a Howler,” Hannah whispered in a sing-song voice. You tried sticking your head out of the sea of students in a futile attempt to catch a glimpse of the red envelope. 

“HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR!? I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED ! YOUR FATHER’S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!” the letter spat in the voice of Mrs. Weasley at the poor soul in front of it. Ron’s face was scrunched in terror, eyes wide open as if he had seen a ghost. The entire Hall went silent, knowing what he had done due to the Daily Prophet article. You, like many others, were listening intently to what the letter said. “If you put another toe out of line… WE’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!” You saw your friend’s head nod furiously, his cheeks now as red as his hair. 

“Poor him…” you heard Susan whisper to herself. You subconsciously nodded in agreement, your gaze not tearing from the scene. 

“And, Ginny, dear,” the letter started, Mrs. Weasley’s now significantly softer, “congratulations on making Gryffindor! Your father and I are so proud.” The younger girl pursed her lips, feeling awkward from the attention she was getting. The letter turned back to Ron ever so slowly. If it had eyes, they would have pierced the boy. Finally, the object blew a raspberry at him before violently ripping itself into a million pieces. 

The entire Hall was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. Everyone stared at Weasley as he stayed frozen, petrified from what had just happened. After what seemed like an eternity, conversations rose again and everything had gone back to normal. Your stomach satisfied, you were about to head out. 

The forever-changing stairs of Hogwarts had always been a challenge for you and many others. Looking up at the ceiling of the hall, they seemed like they stretched for eternity. As you were studying the stairs to determine which path you should take, you heard your name being called out. Your ears perked up as you turned around with a smile, glee filling your heart from seeing your friends again. 

“Did you hear everything?” Ron asked, walking towards you followed by Hermione and Harry. He seemed insecure of what had happened with the Howler. You grimaced. 

“Yes…” you admitted in an apologetic tone, “Everyone did.” This did not seem to put his mind at ease since he started grabbing fistfuls of his hair in agony. 

“I’m the laughing stock now! I’m worse than Longbottom!” You rolled your eyes and so did Hermione.

“It’s not the end of the world, Ron. People have other things to think about than your Howler,” she said. Just as she said this, a group of Ravenclaw boys that seemed to be in their fourth or fifth year passed by. 

“What’s the matter, Weasley?” the tallest of the group mocked. “Just get another car, and it’ll be as if nothing happened!” 

“That is, if your family can afford one,” another boy added. The small group laughed as they walked away, leaving you and your friends in an awkward silence, all looking at Ron. The redhead buried his face in his hands and kept quiet. You almost thought he was about to cry until he ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. You felt awful for him. 

“Well… I’m going to the library, if you care to join me,” you said in hopes of cheering your friend up. He scoffed. 

“Yeah, as if,” he replied. He did hate being surrounded by books. Harry spoke up. 

“What if we play chess?” That immediately caught Weasley's attention. 

******************

The two boys sat next to you, “wasting their time away,” as Hermione would say, on their game. The old library had always been a place for students to relish in the silence it provided, but Harry and Ron had made a reputation for themselves as disturbances. Whilst they played chess, Hermione stuck her curious nose in your annotated textbook. You had written down ways to enhance your potions’ efficiency and, as you told her that, the girl instantly wanted to know more for herself as well. Last year, she had gotten an Excellent on her final potion instead of an Outstanding , which had left her depressed for the first few weeks of summer. 

“I still can’t fathom why Snape would give you an advantage over other students on his subject,” she exclaimed. “He didn't even do that for Draco!” You too, were confused. You did not know why he did this for you, out of all people. 

“Maybe he saw that I was genuinely interested in Potions?” you hypothesised. The girl rolled her eyes. 

“As if I’m not interested in knowing more!” she defended. You found her words quite harsh as it belittled your efforts for Potions. You started last year out by not knowing a single thing and ended it with a well-earned Outstanding . However, you knew where she was coming from. 

The place reeked the smell of dust and old pages, used by the centuries of students before you. You were knee-deep into telling Hermione how to properly brew an Alihotsy Draught until a loud thud made its way to your ears. You averted your eyes and saw Theodore crouched between two large bookcases, presumably reaching for a book he had dropped. You watched him as he got up and adjusted his robe until his eyes met yours. His lips curved upwards in the span of a second while he waved at you. 

He was about to lunge forward to greet you properly, but at the sight of Ron, Harry and Hermione next to you, he stopped himself. He knew better than to talk to you while you were with your Gryffindor friends, knowing the prejudice they would have against him, and you could see it in his eyes. You waved at him anyways.

Hermione copied every word you wrote on your Potions book into hers, but stopped as the quick movements of your hand distracted her. She took a quick glance towards Nott, who was just leaving to check out a book by Ms. Pince, then at you as a gleam of concern flashing through her eyes. 

“I’ve seen you with him quite a few times now…” she started in a warning tone. You nodded. “You seem to get along awfully well.”

“Yes, he’s good company.” She frowned before leaning towards you, about to whisper something but you spoke before she could say anything. “I know what you think about Slytherins,” you told her. You remember how Draco and his friends always made fun of Hermione, if not bully her, due to her blood status. She had been called “Mudblood”, the worst name of all, countless times. She pursed her lips and you continued, “I know how you feel about them, and I get it. But not all of them think this way. Theo actually told me he was against the entire Blood-supremacy shenanigans.” This seemed to calm your previously upset friend, but she still held that look in her eyes. She had been hurt and knew it would not stop anytime soon. She took a moment before speaking again. 

“You know a Slytherin’s prominent feature is ambition…” You understood where she was getting at. 

“Theodore wouldn’t use me–” 

“–How can you be so sure?” You stayed silent and your heart dropped. “Has he ever shown you any disdain?” Her words seemed to take you down a slide to an early memory. One that you had almost forgotten. It came to you like a mist. 

“I don’t want to be friends with you! I just need a better Herbology partner, don’t twist my intentions… Mudbloods…”

The words that he scoffed came back to you. You did not dare think about it for another second. 

“No, he hasn’t.”

******************

03/09/1992

You had all your ingredients at the ready as you were putting your gloves on in the insufferable air of the Dungeons. You had set your textbook in front of you, littered with additional notes and papers sticking out of it to better your recipe. Nott, although he had gotten the same books as you over the summer, had not taken the time to do thorough research for his studies. He claimed to have “better things to do for his summer”, which simply consisted of reading and walking around to pass time. You asked him what books he read and he grew quite flustered. The boy had confided in you that he had taken quite a liking to comedy-dramas, and you found it amusing. 

Theodore stood before the station to your right as Harry, Ron and Hermione were all behind you. You could feel the two boys’ eyes glancing over your shoulders just to catch a peek at your book. Whenever you turned around, they would whip their heads towards the opposite direction. 

You took a hold of Bursting mushrooms and began cutting them. It felt like forever since you had concocted something, and you were genuinely glad to be back in Snape’s class, as dull or grey he may be. As you added more ingredients like Salamander blood and Wartcap powder, your potion began to shine a gorgeous blue. It looked full of life and pride swallowed you whole. You stood there, hands on your hips, looking down at your creation when you caught Theodore doing the same. 

“How did you do that? Mine looks an awful turquoise” the boy asked in bewilderment. You raised your eyebrows. 

“A magician never reveals their tricks.”

“They do, though. That’s why Hogwarts exists–” 

You two were suddenly interrupted by a deep, yet imposing “Ahem.” You turned slowly to your left to see Snape standing still, his eyes piercing yours. His gaze flickered towards your potion, and you swore you could see a gleam appear in it. His overbearing musky scent along with the room’s dust overwhelmed your senses. Without even telling you to do so, you understood that you had to move out of the way. The man took this opportunity to reach for the wooden spoon, and he began stirring the liquid, causing small, bright, white hues to dance around the cauldron like a bioluminescent sea. This caught the attention of many around you and, in a way, it filled you with pride. There was a slight silence as you awaited his comments. 

He did not nod in approval nor make any remarks. The cloaked man only said two words as he gave you the spoon back.

“Clean up.” You were unsure whether that meant you did a good job, but looking at your creation, you could only assure yourself that it was excellent. You sent Theodore a slight prideful smirk, wanting to irk him. “And do so for the rest of your colleagues,” the monotone voice rang. 

Your face dropped. “ What did I do to deserve this? ” you asked yourself. 

******************

The walls were old and crackled, but the light coming in from the tall, narrow windows gave the room contrasting warmth to the potions room. You felt tickles along your wool sleeves up to your shoulders and your skin felt warm. The air felt so much fresher than the one of the city, and you felt light, energised. The place was crawling with paintings and portraits, and the huge dinosaur skeleton hovering above you certainly gave you something to look at before the lesson started. Long desks paired students in two. Hermione, obviously wanting to sit in front, dragged you along with her as well as Ron and Harry, who sat right behind you. 

“I heard this guy’s barmy,” the redhead said a bit too loudly, “Fred thinks he’s a straight fraud.”

“What did he do exactly? I’ve never really heard of him,” you told them, sitting sideways and pressing your arms against the back of the chair. 

“Something something about saving entire cities from vampires, ghouls, and such,” he replied, “My mom loves him too much… And I still don’t understand why he felt obliged to ‘save us’ as he thinks he did” Infuriated, Hermione spoke up.

“He was trying and they left Harry alone!” The said boy burned up. 

“He did not, in fact, help me.”

“Wait what happened?” you asked, suddenly confused. Ron sighed. 

“Long story short, after I got that bloody Howler, Colin Creevey practically harassed Harry for a signed photograph.” He saw you frown at the name. You always knew Creevey stepped over the line when it came to privacy or consent. “You look like you know him, how?” 

“I don’t—”

“—Anyways so Draco, being Draco, overheard and started mocking Harry and, out of the blue, Lockhart popped out and, instead of fixing the problem, made it worse by offering Coling a photo of both of them and a signature. I mean, the nerve!” 

“He was just trying to help!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Well he obviously didn’t because, now, Draco’s all over this with his filthy friends!”

“You don’t know that—” 

“IT’S MY OPINION,” Ron yelled, forgetting to control his voice. The room turned quiet and the boy’s cheeks burnt up. The small argument instantly ceased. 

“Tough day?” you asked the group. They all nodded. 

“I swear,” Ron started, “If Creevey and Ginny were to meet, a Harry Potter fan club would emerge.”

“That thought alone is disgusting,” the black-haired boy replied. He started piling up a few course books in front of him, hoping it would be enough to hide himself from the new professor. 

CLANK!

You all jumped in your seats.

“LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO YOUR NEW DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS TEACHER!” an obnoxiously loud voice rang across the classroom. The statement itself was curious, as you could only see one adult coming in the room from the teacher’s office. “Me!” His flagrant allure along with his clearly-expensive robes irked you right away; however, in a way, the man did entertain you. You took your time to look at Hermione, who was sitting straight, a big smile stretched on her face, then Ron, who looked like he would rather jump off the roof than listen to another second of Lockhart’s speech. Gazing back at the man, you pursed your lips. “GILDEROY LOCKHART! Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League…” He paused to lean on a hilarious moving portrait of himself painting himself “and five-times winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile award…”

“That shouldn’t even be a thing,” you heard Harry whisper, causing you and Ron to smile downwards. 

“But I don’t talk about that!” the teacher said. A ravenclaw boy next to you whispered too loud for his friend to hear.

“Why would he say he doesn’t talk about that when he just talked about the fact that he doesn’t talk about that even though he clearly talks about it enough for him to talk about it to us.” 

You got a headache hearing him out. 

“I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at him!” Lockhart tried joking. He smiled and laughed, alone, for a very long time. “Now, be warned!” Lockhart exclaimed, whipping his wand out in the air, “It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind…” he said ominously, “you may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here.” He slowly and delicately reached for a caped cage, fiddling with the top of the hem. You could see Hermione fiddle with her sleeves anxiously, and your heart pumped faster, knowing what to await. Glancing behind you, you noticed Nott balancing himself on the two back legs of his chair, swinging slightly to keep himself awake. “I must ask you not to scream…IT MIGHT PROVOKE THEM!” 

He snatched the fabric off to reveal little, skinny, blue creatures battling against the cage to be let out. Their voices rang across the classroom and were a lot higher than you had anticipated. Students, mostly the male ones, were left unimpressed by the uncovering. 

“...Cornish Pixies?” Seamus Finnigan uttered. 

“ Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!” the professor boasted, though it was nothing to be proud about. Giggles scattered amongst your classmates. “Laugh if you will, Mr. Finnegan, but Pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters…” There were far too many creatures to count in the cramped space they were being held in. 

Faces, including yours, dropped completely as the man slowly reached for the cage’s door. In a sudden motion, he yanked the hook off the lock, letting the pixies spring free. “Let’s see what you make of them!” 

From that point on, everything seemed to be a blur. Blue hues raced across the room, enough so that it seemed like the entire place was azure. Your heart pounded against your chest with brute force as everyone began running, hiding and screaming. Your ears burst with the noise and your senses were suddenly overwhelmed by the creatures zig-zagging over you. Your hands were clammy, desperately holding onto the desk you were now under. 

“Come one, now! Round them up, round them up! They’re only pixies!” Lockhart screamed over the noisy, flying creatures. A mass of students flooded out of the classroom, unable to bear with the teacher’s antics anymore. You picked up the courage to crawl your way, avoiding the pixies storming above you. The sight looked horrendous, especially when a cloud of them picked up Neville from the floor, making him fly as he let out a blood-curdling scream. You felt hands grip your shoulders, pulling you up harshly. 

“You alright there?” Theodore Nott asked hastily. You nodded just as quick, keeping your head down from the animals. “This is like the Billywig incident all over again…” he said in a frustrated groan, pulling you closer to the class’ exit. You could hear Neville’s pleading to be let go of as well as the teacher’s meaningless incantations towards the creatures.  You were at the last row of desks, where many Slyherin students still stood. 

Noticing Harry slapping a Pixie with the back of his book, Wayne Hopkins tried to do as such. He saw one of the creatures near the infamous Parkinson, raising his textbook at her. “Hold, hold still!” the boy stuttered, already swinging the hardcover at her. The poor girl could only see a flash before being struck by the book, forehead red from the harsh contact and how furious she was. Nott slapped his hand to his mouth, trying to conceal his boisterous laugh.

“Y’know,” the boy told you rather quietly, “this could all be over with a Freezing charm.” He said this as if he was trying to mock the others for running foolishly around the classroom. 

“Then why are you not doing anything?” you questioned him. He shrugged, gesturing to the others around you.

“Humours me.” His “humour” was cut short by the yelling of “ Immobulus ” by Hermione, which almost burst your eardrums. You looked up, your ears now facing a deafening silence. The blue creatures were stuck, floating in the air but unmoving. You felt your heartbeat slow down significantly and your body relax, the threat being neutralized. Theodore huffed behind you. “What a shame.” You rolled your eyes. 

******************

There was nothing more peaceful than the feeling of the cold, September air hitting you as the moon passed over your head. The stars danced in the sky, some brighter than others, and seemed entrancing. The blue light landed on your face like a feather-light touch, gentle and kind. The cold feeling of the metal fence sent shivers to your palm and fingertips, but the soft breeze hitting you felt like a warm embrace. 

You had missed the Astronomy tower. 

You were thinking, again and again, as you always did. About your home, about yourself. 

A part of you liked this place: you had a huge opportunity to begin your life as a new person. Everything in the past that made your head hurt or your heart break would be left behind you. You could avoid thinking back on your mistakes and your wrongdoings as they would not matter anymore. No one truly knew you, and, being able to predict the rest of your story, you could create a good life. You could become your ideal version of you . 

Another part of you yearned to go home. You missed not having to pretend that your parents were yours. You missed the people you knew, even the ones you hated. You missed your bed, your town and, as silly as it sounds, the internet. The music you were exposed to here was also more limited, and you yearned for more. 

You reflected back on what you thought. No one knew you, except one man. 

“ I know you… ”

His words echoed in your head once again, causing you to frown. 

“ I know you… ”

Your mind chanted. 

Voldemort did know you.

You headed to bed, disoriented.