Harry,
This is hard for me to do. When you went to Slytherin—No Potter has been in Slytherin for centuries. It just doesn’t happen. And I’ve never had a good experience with a Slytherin.
I apologize for not writing this year. I received your letters last fall and didn’t know what to say, and I was angry enough that I thought it was better for me just to not respond. Jules tells me you’re worried about where you’re to stay this summer. Potter Manor is legally always open to its Heir, but I think we tried to rush things last summer. I should’ve known not to expect you to be a carbon copy of Jules, or to integrate into our family without a hitch. If you spend this summer with the Longbottoms after your stay at the Dursleys is over—Dumbledore wrote me about the plan—you and Jules and your friends can spend time together, and you can spend time with just Jules and me, and we can start trying to piece this family back together.
James
Harry scowled at the parchment. At least his father had been prompt; Harry had only spoken to Jules two days ago, and tomorrow they’d be boarding the Hogwarts Express for King’s Cross. But still.
“He only invited me home because he’s legally obligated to,” Harry complained to Theo, Pansy, and Blaise over breakfast. The rest of their year mates were sleeping in, but Harry got up early and his three closest Slytherin friends at least got up earlier than the rest. “And that last bit? Piece our family together? No thanks. I’m not interested in having him as my family. Git.” He attacked his porridge with a scowl.
“He legally can’t disinherit you either,” Pansy reminded him. “Not without a felony conviction with a four plus year sentence or proven magical or mental handicap that would prevent you from running an estate, which clearly you don’t have. Blaise, darling, pass the cherries.”
Harry smirked and flicked his wand at a bowl of cherries. Wingardium Leviosa, Incendio, Alohomora, and Glaci were still the only spells he could cast nonverbally, since they were the closest proper spells to his wandless magic abilities, and he didn’t think he would be able to cast any more for a long time. It still made Pansy’s eyes bug out when the bowl floated over to her.
“You—you just—wordlessly—how?” she squeaked, cherries forgotten.
“Harry’s special,” Theo drawled.
Pansy threw a cherry at his head.
“Open the other one,” Blaise said, ignoring Theo and Pansy with the air of a disdainful adult letting the children play. Harry was impressed that he managed to pull that off given that they were all the same age.
He picked up the other envelope, addressed to Harry Potter in handwriting that looked a bit like James’ except messier. “Three guesses,” he said, breaking the seal.
“Cornelius Fudge,” Theo said, putting on a pompous air.
“Nope. That might actually say something interesting,” Harry said, grinning, and unfolded his brother’s letter.
Harry—
I wrote Dad. He said he’d write back once he figured out what to say. I’m writing because the twins said it might cause you problems in Slytherin if you look too friendly with me. I was going to track you down during dinner last night, actually, but they convinced me not to. Is it really that bad for you in Slytherin? I’d like to try to be friendly at least but let me know if your House won’t let you.
“Remind me to thank the Weasley twins later,” Harry said, wincing as he imagined the stir that would be Jules Potter venturing into Slytherin territory. On his own it might not be too bad but he’d almost definitely bring backup, that backup would almost definitely be named Weasley and/or Finnegan, and that would almost definitely result in hexes.
So you know how my birthday is kind of a big social event in the summers? I was thinking we should make it a joint thing this year. You invite your friends, I’ll invite mine. Dad says no suspected Death Eaters or their children. I think I can get him to make an exception for Nott since Hermione will back me up. We can do the social thing and let the reporters take pictures and then have our actual birthday with just our friends once the guests leave. If it goes up in flames we’ll know not to keep trying to mix our friends.
I know you don’t like the Dursleys much but it’ll be fine. Write me after you leave and we can… I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve hexing each other, preferably. I’ll even leave Ron behind; I know you and he don’t get along.
Jules
“Look at that, the Other Potter grew a brain,” Theo said, giving the letter a cursory glance. “Wonder where it’s been hiding all year?”
“I think realizing Quirrell was the bad guy all along hit him in the face a bit,” Harry said. “Quirrell is evil and Snape isn’t. My smarter twin was right. Hey, maybe he’s not evil either!”
“What’s it say?” Pansy said, trying to grab it, but Blaise was faster. He read the letter and his eyebrows slowly crept upwards.
“It says, dear Pansy, that we are going to be hanging out with the Other Potter and his fan club some this summer,” Blaise said.
“I can be friendly with you.”
Jules looked up. “Huh—oh. Harry, hi. Er—sit?”
“No, thanks,” Harry said, adjusting the strap of his bag. He had a few library books to return before he went to finish packing. “Just wanted to clear up—I can be friendly with you. Slytherin politics are complicated but not that brutal.” Only a partial lie—it would be harder for Harry if he was known to be on decent terms with his brother, but not impossible. He’d handle it. It helped that his feud with James was a poorly kept secret. “It’s just maybe not a great plan to march over to the Slytherin table during the middle of breakfast to invite me to a joint birthday party backed up by the dumbass duo.”
“Hey!” Weasley protested.
Harry gave him a charming smile. “Just kidding.”
“Er,” Jules said, clearly judging Slytherin. “Ooookay. So you like the birthday plan, then?”
“It’s worth trying,” Harry said. “One condition—the lot of you keep the Death Eater comments out of it. I’m sure you can manage a few hours in the company of Slytherin preteens without calling them murderous lunatics.”
“Only if you keep your crowd from firing hexes from behind,” Weasley said instantly. “We know you do it—”
“No hexes from either side, and no Death Eater comments from you,” Harry said. “If someone does call one of us a Death Eater, all bets are off and you can count on magical payback. Deal?”
“Deal,” Jules said, looking at Weasley and Finnegan. Weasley agreed. Finnegan glared at Harry for a few more seconds before he reluctantly gave in.
“Great, see you guys,” Harry said.
He was accosted by Fred and George in the hall.
“Sooo,” Fred said. Harry had finally managed to tell them apart. He thought. “We see you’ve been putting our little jinx to good use.”
“Nailing Malfoy in the Great Hall was excellent.”
“Truly inspired.”
“Slytherin Quidditch team seemed to find it particularly amusing.”
“Surely that was just a coincidence.”
Harry grinned at them. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” George said with a wink. “Word is you’re trying out next year.”
“We’d be happy to fly with you this summer,” Fred said.
“Not that we’ll give up Gryffindor maneuvers, mind.”
“Of course not,” Harry agreed. “And I don’t actually know any Slytherin maneuvers to share yet.” Not strictly true; Wright had taught him some things that the seventh year said Harry had better not show to anyone outside Slytherin on pain of death even if he didn’t make the team, but Harry could keep those to himself.
“Can’t wait,” George said.
“Can’t wait to see ickle Ronniekins’ face when you cream him,” Fred added.
“I won’t be,” Harry said sweetly. “Not until Quidditch next year, if he even makes the team. He and Jules won’t see me fly. Or get any idea of my skill level.”
Both twins snickered and winked at him. “Sneaky, you are.”
“Worthy of Slytherin.”
“You’re pretty sneaky yourselves,” Harry pointed out.
“Ah, but we are much fonder of attention than you snakey lot,” George said.
Harry laughed. They really were impossible to not like. At least for him. “See you this summer.”
“Oh, definitely,” Fred said with a smile that promised chaos. Harry headed for the library feeling vaguely terrified and mostly excited to see what kinds of pranks the twins would pull, and what he could learn from them in the process.
Justin, Hannah, Lisa, and Anthony managed to snag one of the compartments with Expansion Charms and lock the door to keep the upperclassmen out, which meant all of Harry’s friends managed to pile into the one compartment. Even Hermione and Neville showed up eventually. “Ron and Seamus were playing with the animals,” Hermione said irritably. “They wouldn’t give Trevor back to Neville. Once they started trying to juggle Trevor and Ron’s stupid rat I levitated the toad away from them and we left.”
“How about some Exploding Snap?” Justin said, clearly taking the look on Neville’s face to mean they should do something to help him unwind. This probably would have worked better if he hadn’t picked a card game that involved exploding cards. Harry budged over to let Neville sit between him and Theo, and between the two of them they needled and prodded the Gryffindor out of his nervousness. It took almost an hour but they eventually got him shouting and taking risks along with the rest of them, and Neville’s fingers didn’t even end up more scorched than anyone else’s.
Harry brought up the birthday party and told them they were all invited. “It’s a bit of a social arse-kissing session,” Theo said, “but it should be fun to watch full-on adults practically kowtow to the Boy Who Lived.”
“I promised Jules no hexes,” Harry said, “so no one Fundihosen him while he’s talking to the Minister.” Lisa, Sue, Theo, and Blaise all looked like he’d just taken away their Christmas gifts.
“How’d you know we were thinking that?” Lisa demanded.
Harry grinned at her. “Lisa, trust me, that was the first thing that went through my head when Theo told me exactly what kind of social gathering this is. Plus, I know you.”
She heaved a theatrical sigh and went back to her sketchpad.
“You said no hexes,” Blaise said. “What about pranks that don’t involve magic?”
Harry smirked at him. “Don’t get caught?”
“Thank you for that brilliant piece of advice, O wise one,” Theo said. Harry elbowed him.
About a half hour before arrival, people started to peel off to say goodbye to house mates and, for the Muggle-borns, change out of their robes. Eventually only Blaise, Theo, and Pansy were still in the compartment with Harry. He noticed within about five minutes of reading and casual conversation that Blaise had something he wanted to say.
“Spit it out, Blaise,” Harry said.
Pansy instantly turned away from Theo, who she’d been bugging while he read, and faced Blaise. “Yes, please do.”
Blaise frowned at them both. “I think Dumbledore set your brother up for a confrontation with… Quirrell.”
Pansy pounced on his hesitation. “You were going to say something else,” she said, leaning forward intently. “Not Qurirell. Was Quirrell working for someone? Was he actually involved or did he die in the crossfire and they blamed him as a coverup?”
“I love having friends who think like this,” Harry said with fake bliss.
“I’m serious, Harry,” Blaise scowled.
“I know. I think the same thing,” Harry said, finally closing his book and looking up at Blaise. “But there’s not much we can do, is there? It’s not like Jules would believe me.”
“Hold up, why do we think that?” Pansy said.
“Because of the traps,” Theo realized. “The Devil’s Snare—either Neville or Hermione. A Seeker’s trap for Jules, a giant chessboard for Weasley, the troll for all of them—Hermione’s already helped take one down once, so has Neville, Finnegan’s a pyromaniac and Harry here already proved pretty firmly that trolls can be taken out by fire—then the logic puzzle, also Hermione, and finally the Mirror of Erised, which Jules and Weasley have already beaten.”
Pansy blinked. “Well. That… complicates things.”
Blaise was still frowning at Harry. “Were you just going to not say anything?”
“I was waiting to see if you’d notice,” Harry said with a grin.
“Wanker,” Blaise muttered, going back to his book.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Pansy said. “Harry. Who did Blaise almost mention?”
Harry looked at Blaise. Blaise thought for a second and nodded. Theo watched the interchange. Harry waited. Seconds stretched almost into a minute before Theo nodded, too.
So Harry cast a Colloportus at their compartment door and told Pansy about Voldemort.
He registered the surrealism of the moment, of course. He was the Boy Who Lived’s Slytherin twin, sharing a compartment with the son of the Black Widow, the son of a suspected Death Eater, and the daughter of a Dark pureblood family, talking about ho that Lord Voldemort was still alive in some form and trying to return. But somehow Pansy had become a friend in the last few months and if Harry couldn’t trust Blaise and Theo by now he couldn’t trust anyone.
When he was done, Pansy cocked her head. Processed for a few seconds. And asked him point blank, “Where will you stand if he comes back?”
Harry looked around the compartment. Blaise was doing the thing where he pretended to be disdainfully amused with the lot of them, and Theo was aggressively faking boredom, which told Harry they were both fully invested in the answer.
“I’m going to fight him,” he said quietly, but with conviction. He’d been stewing over this since Hermione first told him in a shaking voice about watching Jules face off with Voldemort. “He killed my mum. I don’t remember her, but maybe if he hadn’t… maybe I’d love her, maybe things would be the same, I don’t know and now I never will. More personally—he’s the reason I spent ten years in misery with my Muggle relatives. Just for that I want him dead. Preferably painfully.” He smirked, trying to defuse some of the tension. “Besides, it’s not as if Jules and his Gryffindor goons could win any kind of war on without some cunning to back them up.”
Blaise and Theo swapped a glance.
“Guess that means we’d better brush up on our dueling,” Blaise said. “Since we’re probably going to be dragged into this on your heels.”
He turned to Pansy. “Exploding snap?”
And, somehow, that was the end of it.
***
Harry and Theo went to get their owl cages from the storage compartment, leaving Blaise and Pansy to curse at each other over burned fingers.
“Did you mean it?” Theo asked quietly.
Harry paused. “Yeah. But look, mate—I know… your dad and all. I’m not asking anyone to go into this with me. And we’re eleven. Almost twelve. I’m not planning on fighting anytime soon. Just—if he comes back. You know where I’ll stand. And I plan to be ready to stand there.”
“I know,” Theo said. “Honestly I think you’ll be better at it than your idiot brother.”
“He’s not as bad as my idiot father,” Harry muttered.
Theo snorted.
They walked in silence for half a car.
“My father’s not an easy man to defy,” They said in an almost-whisper. “But you know I don’t hold with the kill-all-the-Muggles ideology.”
“I do,” Harry said. “Hermione backed you on that one to Jules, actually, which seems to have been an interesting conversation.”
“I bet,” Theo said sourly.
After a few more seconds’ consideration, Harry bumped Theo’s shoulder lightly with his own. Theo shoved back, a little harder. They left it at that, but they were Slytherins. They didn’t need to spell everything out.
“—need time to perfect it.”
Harry recognized George’s voice and grabbed Theo’s arm, pulling him to a halt. Theo looked at him, irritated; Harry made a hushing noise and pointed at a compartment door that had slid open an inch or two.
“And money.” That was Fred. “Time we’ve got; we just finished third year.”
“The fireworks aren’t blowing up anymore.”
“They’re also the wrong color. We need better materials.”
“Like Mum would let us find an investor,” George grumbled. “Or work on our stuff. Or do much of anything other than try for OWLs and NEWTs and respectable Ministry jobs, because that’s done Percy and Dad so much good.”
“We wouldn’t find an investor anyway, we’re barely fourteen.”
Harry felt his eyes widen as an idea hit him.
Theo squinted at him. “I know that look,” he hissed. “You’ve an idea—”
Harry pushed the door open. “How about an investor who’s younger than you?”
Both of the twins jumped about three inches in the air and had their wands trained on him by the time they hit the benches again.
“You’re jumpy,” Theo said, following Harry into the compartment and closing the door. “Didn’t sleep enough? Or maybe you were talking about things you don’t want overheard.”
“Don’t let the compartment door unlocked in the future, it slid open,” Harry advised.
George and Fred lowered their wands. “Did you say something about investing?” George said.
“I did.” Harry reached for the Gringotts bag in his pocket. “That book you sent me for Christmas? I’m pretty sure you enchanted it yourself. And I spent months searching and didn’t find any references to it, which tells me you two invented Fundihosen. At thirteen and without dying in an experimental magic accident.”
“You didn’t tell us it was experimental,” Theo said indignantly.
Harry shrugged. “I knew it worked by then, what would’ve been the point? Plus I figured these two wouldn’t want it getting back to their mum that they were dabbling in experimental magic. Or Percy. Or Ron.”
“Or hey, the Ministry,” Theo said, catching on and grinning at the twins. “Seeing as experimental charms licenses are regulated to hell and back.”
The twins looked at each other.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m not blackmailing you,” Harry said. “The point is you’re prodigies. I don’t care what’s on your score reports. I’m curious what you’ll make with more funds.”
There was definitely an interested gleam in the twins’ eyes now. “How much are we talking?” Fred said.
“How about… say, twenty Galleons to begin with?” Harry said. It was a decent sum of money, about five times as much as what he’d spent on their Zonko’s Christmas gift. He pulled a bag with the money from his Gringotts bag and held it out.
Fred and George smiled identical Cheshire Cat grins as Fred took the bag. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Fred said.
“Write me,” Harry said. “Later this summer we’ll talk. Once you start turning things out, I want priority orders and a small discount.”
“I knew it was going to be fun having you around,” George said.
“You dumped me in a lake.”
“And you handled it well!” Fred said.
“Almost drowned me when I hauled you out of the water.”
“And you looked like you were about to hex Ron to bits.”
“We always love needling our brothers.”
Harry smiled at them and left.
***
Blaise and Theo both looked askance at Harry’s hideous Muggle clothes. “What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?” Blaise demanded. “It’s horrid.”
“My cousin Dudley’s old clothes,” Harry said with distaste.
“Is he related to Hagrid by any chance?” Theo said, poking his wand at the extra folds of fabric on the outside of Harry’s leg.
“Nah, Hagrid’s nice, if a bit oafish,” Harry said. “Dudley is just a spoiled little monster. Think Malfoy with stupid parents, no magic, and maybe four times the size.”
Blaise and Theo looked disgusted. “And you can’t wear your wizarding clothes?” Blaise said. “Even buy quality Muggle ones?”
“I wish. No, Aunt Petunia’d flip tables trying to find out where I got the money for them. They’ve no idea about my inheritance in Gringotts and I fully intend to keep it that way. Plus I’d just ruin them; I’ll probably have some chores to do.”
Theo frowned.
“It’s appalling,” Blaise said, “a wizard, forced to work for Muggles…”
“On the up side,” Harry said, “they don’t know I’m not allowed magic outside of school. So as long as I don’t do any, I can probably threaten my cousin at least, to keep him in line…”
“Want to come see my uncle?” Harry said on impulse. “He’s coming to pick me up, if you leave your things by the Floo—”
“Oh yes,” Theo said, a gleam in his eye. “I would love to meet your uncle.”
Harry knew exactly what his expression meant and grinned. “Great, let’s go.”
Theo and Blaise followed him back through the barrier. Blaise looked disdainfully at the Muggles, many of whom were giving them odd looks: Harry in his oversized hideous worn-down clothes, carrying a large empty birdcage and wearing his pack with the collapsed trunk secured in it; Blaise and Theo in summer robes, trousers, and leather shoes.
“There,” he muttered, pointing.
Uncle Vernon glowered at them as they approached. His face was red and he was even more massive than Harry remembered. He contemplated setting the stupid mustache on fire.
“Merlin, he’s disgusting,” Blaise hissed.
Theo folded his arms. “How much does he eat?”
“A lot. Hello, Uncle Vernon.”
“Boy,” Uncle Vernon said. He glanced over Blaise and Theo and curled his lip. “Hurry up, we haven’t got all day.”
Theo pointed his wand, keeping it disguised in the flow of his robes. Harry and Blaise pretended not to notice. “Tarantallegra.”
Uncle Vernon shouted as his legs began to dance like mad. Expletives echoed through King’s Cross and dozens of people turned in shock. Some hurried on, looking disgusted; others began to laugh.
“Enough,” Harry muttered after a few seconds, and Theo sighed and ended the enchantment.
“You’re no fun,” he said.
“I’ve got to live with him,” Harry retorted. “Wait ‘til we’re seventeen.”
Theo grinned malevolently. Blaise looked Uncle Vernon over. Harry’s uncle was gasping, out of breath, shining with sweat, and looking around wildly, clearly in shock.
Harry winked at them and approached his uncle warily. “Uncle Vernon?” he said as politely as he could manage. “Are—are you quite all right? There’s a bench over there if you need to sit down for a bit—”
“No,” Uncle Vernon growled, with a fearful glance back at Blaise and Theo. “No, hurry up—we need to get away from that lot—why they let your sort wander around in public looking like that I do not understand—shouldn’t be—shouldn’t be permitted—public disgrace—”
Harry shifted his pack on his shoulders, tuned out his uncle, and braced himself to face three more weeks at the Dursleys’.
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