Chapter Text
When they got back to the common room after lunch, Harry wasn’t particularly surprised to see that there was a notice pinned to the bulletin board proclaiming that flying lessons would commence next Thursday.
There were mixed reactions amongst the first years. Some were excited, some were nervous, and others—such as Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode—just wrinkled their noses at everyone’s excitement and chatter and walked off. Blaise and Draco were in a heated conversation about Quidditch, and even Crabbe and Goyle chimed in here and there. Allison Runcorn, a quiet girl who Harry hadn’t heard speak once since the Welcoming Feast, was in a surprisingly heated conversation with Pansy about the proper broom-riding etiquette. Davis had joined Greengrass at their table for homework, though she was nibbling on her nails, showing that she was nervous.
Harry dismissed their reactions and headed to his dorm room to join Mischief and Theo, who had ignored the notice altogether. The taller boy wasn’t a fan of Quidditch, though he was decently skilled in flying from what Harry could remember from a few of their stealth missions in the Aurors. He’d be a decent Chaser if he wanted to play on the team, though Harry figured that it was unlikely that he’d ever join.
Mischief was waiting by the door for him and Harry grinned when she lapped at his hand. He’d managed to train her out of her habit of knocking him to the ground, but Mischief still insisted on working as a diligent, if not persistent, alarm clock for him. He was considering not even setting up an alarm in the morning with how effective her method to awake him was.
“Hey, Missy,” Harry said with a grin, scratching behind her ear. She whuffed at him with a wagging tail, and instead of sitting at his desk, Harry sat at the head of his four-poster. Mischief followed him and lied against his side, enjoying his slight attention on her as he scratched behind her ears.
“You know,” said Harry idly after completing his Magical Theory essay, “I’d somehow forgotten that repeating our schooling also meant redoing all of our homework.”
Theo glanced up from his own homework with a raised brow. “A good portion of our conversations were focused around repeating our schooling, how did this just come across you now?” he asked.
Harry shrugged and cast a drying charm on his essay to dry the ink. “I think I was more concerned about how I would handle the later years since I’m only redoing one elective.”
“I still can’t believe you’re retaking Hagrid’s class,” Theo said in disbelief. “That man can’t teach.”
Before, Harry would have taken this as a slight against his friend. But with the knowledge and maturity he had now, Harry couldn’t say that Theo was wrong . While Hagrid knew a great deal about magical creatures, the man had trouble differentiating dangerous creatures from not dangerous ones. It also didn’t help that he hadn’t finished his schooling, and as far as Harry was aware, that he hadn’t taken any teaching classes.
“I wonder if there would be a way to get Kettleburn to continue teaching,” wondered Harry aloud. “I heard that he’s friends with Newt Scamander and went over higher class creatures in his NEWTs classes instead of going over things like Kneazles.” Sirius had thought highly of the man, though Harry was sure it was because despite being a Hufflepuff, the professor had a similar mentality to a Gryffindor. Remus, on the other hand, had thought Kettleburn to be as reckless to his students as he had been to himself. And considering the number of times that man had frequented the Hospital Wing in his teaching career, Harry couldn’t exactly say that Remus was wrong. Harry had, however, gotten numerous funny stories from his father’s two friends about that class, including the time a niffler had stolen his father’s glasses, causing him to wander blindly to Professor McGonagall so she could conjure him some.
“Didn’t he lose most of his limbs because he was reckless?” said Theo in a dry tone, giving Harry a pointed look.
Harry merely grinned at the utterly rude insinuation that he was reckless, though it wasn’t like he could deny it. His recklessness might have calmed down after the war, but he could not deny that there had been quite a few times where he hadn’t thought a decision through and nearly got hurt. He could still remember the talking-to he’d gotten from Robards after he’d jumped off a building to catch up to a suspect and had nearly brained himself on the cobblestone. It was just luck that the store he’d been in front of had happened to be selling flying carpets—no matter the fact that they were banned in Britain—and he’d happened to land on one. It had at least provided a faster way of travel and he’d caught the perpetrator before he could Disapparate.
Robards hadn’t been as appreciative of the idea as he had been, though.
Harry changed the subject. “Have you found anything?” he asked, referring to their time travel studies.
Theo sighed at the question. He sounded as if he didn’t have much luck, either. “The library doesn’t touch on time travel much, and their section on it is small. I’m ordering some books, but they won’t get here until Yule,” he said.
Harry’s brows furrowed. Why would it take three months to receive a package? “Where are you ordering them from?”
“A collector in Greece,” said Theo. “The order is big and the books are older and rare and some need to be copied by hand, so they’ll be travelling through a trusted courier. I’ll collect them during Yule break.”
“Why by hand?” Harry wondered. “There are spells to copy books?” He himself had used spells to copy a few of the older, disintegrating books from the Black’s library. He had also acquired a few book copies from Alexandria’s library, too, though he’d had to pay for someone to do it for him. They didn’t trust anyone who weren’t practised in the art of book copying to have a wand anywhere near their precious books.
Theo just shrugged. “The collector doesn’t use spells to copy his books. Say’s they damage the books. He might use a dicta-quill for most of it.”
“Do you want me to foot some of the bill?” Harry asked, wondering why Theo hadn’t brought this up earlier. They both would be using the books for their research. And if the books were not only old and rare, but also were being copied by hand, then that meant that they would cost a pretty knut. That didn’t take into account the delivery fee, either, which was sure to be hefty since they were coming from Greece. Apparition didn’t take kindly to too much luggage, and Harry had learned that it was a poor idea to travel with something fragile. The witch or wizard delivering the books would have to travel by broom, flying carriage, or ship, and each of those had its hazards.
“You can pay half if you want,” said Theo with an unconcerned shrug. “It’s not like we both won’t be buying our own books to share.”
That was true, Harry thought. He had already purchased numerous books from various shops in Diagon, and he’d even gotten a few contacts by pretending to be a collector and scholar with the alias Jamison E Lyre where he’d gotten even more books. The name was somewhat obvious if you considered Harry’s parentage and relatives, but he figured that since no one was guessing that an eleven-year-old boy would have a pseudonym to acquire rare books, that he was fine. Theo had rolled his eyes when Harry had first told him and had told him that people would eventually figure it out. Harry, though, didn’t particularly care if people found out so long as he wasn’t a kid at the time. He could dodge the questions easily when he was older.
Their conversation lulled into silence and Harry continued doing his homework. It didn’t take long to finish his reading and the short essays he had—he’d forgotten how easy the homework was as a first year, especially after going through the rush of doing his OWLs and NEWTs—and he realized that he would have a lot of free time over the next few years.
It was something to mull over.
***
Harry followed the other first years outside to where the flying lessons would take place. From what he could recall from his original first year, lessons took place once a week for two months until everyone got a handle on flying a broom. He was strangely looking forward to it, because even though it meant that there was less time he could research or spend with Mischief, he would get to fly and mingle with his other first years.
Not long after they arrived at the designated flying area, the Gryffindors headed out of the castle. Ron was chatting with Seamus and Dean, the former two explaining flying to the latter, who was very likely comparing the sport to soccer. A few of the girls, too, were talking, and Harry could see Hermione speaking with Neville and Lily Moon, most likely providing the two with tips and tricks she’d learned in Quidditch Through the Ages.
“Hey, Nev,” Harry greeted Neville with an easy smile. “You nervous?”
Nevile smiled tremulously at him. “My Gran never let me on a broom,” he said, eying the brooms and their crooked twigs.
Sensing that Draco was about to make a nasty comment, Harry stomped on his foot without glancing away from Neville’s nervous eyes. “Ouch!” Draco hissed, which Harry ignored with ease.
“I’ve never been on a broom, either,” he admitted. “You’ve just got to be confident. The brooms react to your nerves, I think.” Neville, and many others, looked surprised at this. They had all assumed that he’d grown up in a wizarding family and had thus had ridden a broom loads of times. “Think about it like this,” Harry continued to try and calm his friend down, “Both of our dads were on the Quidditch team when they went to Hogwarts, weren’t they? We should be fine.”
“Er, yeah,” said Neville, trying to sound confident and failing. “We should be fine.”
Hermione opened her mouth, likely about to make a comment about how kids didn’t always inherit their parents’ skills, but after a glare from Harry she thought better of it. Madam Hooch walked over to them then, halting any further conversation.
“Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barked, hawk-like eyes staring them down sternly. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”
Harry chose a broom near Neville, just in case he ended up taking an early flight again.
“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” ordered Madam Hooch, “and say ‘Up!’”
“UP!” everyone shouted.
Harry’s broom smacked into his palm with a familiar, satisfying thump. It made a grin pull at his lips and he glanced around at his peers. Most brooms stayed on the ground. Hermione’s simply rolled over, but the tail on Neville’s quivered once before falling still once more.
“Imagine it jumping into your hand,” Harry murmured to Neville. Hermione, who stood beside him, glanced at his statement.
Neville’s expression creased in concentration, and after a few moments of thought, said, “Up!”
The broom jumped right into his palm. Seeing this, Hermione stared down at her rolling broom. “Up!” she ordered, a mild crease in her brow. It, too, lept upward. She grinned in triumph.
Madam Hooch proceeded to show them how to mount their brooms without sliding off and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry hid a smile when she told Draco that he’d been gripping his broom wrong, and Harry sensed amusement from Theo who stood beside him in boredom.
“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick of the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch after making sure they all knew what to do. Harry twitched on his broom in excitement—it’d been ages since he’d had a proper fly around and it was perfect flying weather today—and he ignored the discomfort of the fading cushioning charm under his arse, and kept half an eye on Neville. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—”
As he had been trying to stop from happening, Neville’s nerves got to him and pushed off hard before the whistle had even touched Madam Hooch’s lips. Even as Madam Hooch yelled, “Come back, boy!” Harry shot upwards after him. About fifteen feet off the ground, Harry managed to grasp the front of Neville’s broom.
“H-Harry!” Neville whimpered, jerking slightly as his broom halted to a stop. His face was white and his white-knuckled hold on his broom was no doubt painful.
“You’re fine,” Harry soothed as best as he could. He kept one hand on Neville’s broom and grasped his arm with another, not needing to hold onto his own broom due to practise. Like riding a horse for the first time, his thighs burned at the tight grasp he had on the broom, but he paid it no mind. He was more worried about making sure Neville didn’t fall off his broom and break his arm.
“Do you remember what Madam Hooch said about going down?” Harry asked Neville, trying to distract him from their height.
“Lean forward?” Neville guessed shakily.
“Lean forward,” Harry confirmed before stressing, “Slightly.”
They began to descend, and from the corner of his eye, Harry saw Madam Hooch fly towards them with a broom she’d nicked from another first year. It wobbled beneath her unsteadily and they were already hovering a few feet off the ground by the time she reached them.
“Well, then!” she gasped, her eyes blazing furiously.
Before she could scold them, Harry defended Neville. “It’s not his fault, ma’am. He’s been worried about flying all week. This is his first time on a broom.” He neglected to say that it was also, technically, his first time on a broom.
After a few moments of thought, Madam Hooch said, “Well, I suppose you get away with it this time, young man. And for good sportsmanship and inter-House communications, I’ll award ten points to Slytherin, Mr Potter.”
Harry grinned. “Thank you, ma’am.” Behind her back, Harry could see most of his peers—both Gryffindor and Slytherin alike—were gaping at him. He’d not only just helped a Gryffindor, but he’d also been awarded points for it!
The remainder of the lesson went on without a hitch. He did have to stop Draco and Ron from getting into it, but they then proceeded to race one another around their make-shift pitch until they got yelled out for endangering themselves and got detention for their tomfoolery.
Harry mostly watched attentively as Neville slowly drifted around on his broom, absentmindedly correcting for the way his own broom stirred to the right. These brooms were probably over twenty-to-thirty years old, and considering how often brooms were used in the wizarding world, he wondered why Hogwarts hadn’t bought any new ones to practise with. He knew that the budget would have no room for forty-some Nimbus 2000s, but the older versions of Comets or Cleansweeps weren’t particularly expensive. He was sure that they could get a batch of forty for eighty galleons, where a newer Comet or Cleansweep was easily triple that. If not that, then they could easily purchase used one for even cheaper. They would certainly be safer than the hazards they were currently riding.
Neville wobbled mid-air but managed to catch himself, and Harry grinned in pride. Beside his friend, Hermione managed to hover steadily in the air, giving tips as they flew around the course slowly. Not a fan of flying or heights, she didn’t bother trying to show off in this particular skill.
“I guess some things were just meant to happen.” Harry glanced over at Theo, who had silently flown up beside him. He was referring to Neville shooting off like a canon again, despite Harry trying to stop that from happening.
“I’m worried what that’ll mean for the future,” he admitted, silently casting Muffliato to stop anyone else from hearing their conversation. “We don’t know which things will stay the same and which will not.”
“I suppose we’ll just have to wait for things to play out, then,” said Theo.
After that, flying lessons continued on without any notable problems. Harry enjoyed the chance to just fly around and get fresh air without worrying about bludgers or jinxes being thrown his way. The weather was perfect and he mourned the fact that he could not have Mischief out here with him without her presence being suspicious. He couldn’t be caught with a dog—they weren’t approved pets in Hogwarts as far as he was aware, and he’d really rather not be accused of having special privileges—and there really was no way for him to be with Mischief otherwise. He’d continued the trend of running with her through Hogwarts’s halls in the early morning or late at night—and occasionally sneaking out of the castle for a roam around the grounds, even going as far as to go to Hogsmeade and back—but the difference between running beneath the morning sun and jogging through the cold walls of Hogwarts was drastic.
The only way Harry figured he’d be able to be with her would to either not be seen, and while Disillusionment Charms were decent enough to use when no one was in sight, he’d be found out eventually, not to mention the fact that it’d look stupid if he was running around with an invisible dog. Or, he thought, an idea coming to mind, no one would think twice about two stray dogs playing with one another…
With a grin curling his lips, Harry set off for his dorm room. He knew that book on advanced transfiguration would come in handy.
***
As Harry could not forget, rumours spread quickly through Hogwarts. By dinner time, everyone had heard of his helping a Gryffindor and receiving points for it, and he’d been complimented no less than three times by three separate teachers for it. It was like they’d forgotten that Neville was his partner in Potions and his friend or something...
“Oh, honestly,” Harry muttered to Theo, Draco, and Blaise (and Crabbe and Goyle, but they were silent as always) as they headed towards the Great Hall. “I’m a first year; I’m not even supposed to know any jinxes powerful enough to control a broom.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, ickle Potterkins.”
The group jumped and stared at the Weasley twins in surprise and trepidation. They’d all been caught in at least one of their pranks by now, including Harry. Harry hadn’t even sensed them coming at the time, and he’d only just caught their similar and playful magic right before they spoke.
“You’re the defeater of You-Know-You!” continued the other twin, slinging an arm over Harry’s shoulder.
“You’re supposed to know all sorts of magic!” said the first twin, who Harry identified to be Fred. His throat tightened at the sight of the redhead and Harry flinched when Fred threw an arm over his shoulder, as well.
“Well, those books about you say you do,” George said, rubbing his nonexistent beard thoughtfully. “D’you think they’re lies, George?”
Fred mock gasped. “Lies! Who would spread lies about the famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived!?”
The Press? thought Harry dryly, slowly getting over his shock.
As if hearing his thoughts, Draco drawled, “The papers.”
“People who want to make money off an orphan,” added Blaise in eager amusement.
“People who want to make money off the fact that his parents were murdered,” Theo corrected in that cool, unattached voice of his. Those listening in on the conversation winced and glanced down at Harry, worried that they’d offended him. He’d long dealt with the fact that his parents had been murdered, and while he missed them and mourned the loss of the future he could’ve had, he was no longer pained over their deaths as others who had actually known them were.
“You know,” said Harry with a thoughtful frown, “I never thought about that. Doesn’t everyone need my or my guardian’s permission to make money off my name and image? Aren’t there books written about me?”
“There are,” said Fred.
“Yeah,” said George, “our Mum used to read them to our little sister every night.”
Everyone was frowning as they thought about this. “Who’s your guardian?” asked Draco.
“My relatives,” said Harry with a shrug. “It’s unlikely that they would’ve agreed, though.” Not only would they have shooed away any owls directed toward him, but Harry figured that they wouldn’t have been so surprised to learn that he was famous if they knew that people were selling books about him.
“It’s illegal for them to make money off of you, then,” Blaise helpfully pointed out.
“I’ll have to do something about that…” Harry muttered. He was incensed at the fact that people were making money off of writing fiction about him. While he didn’t quite care about gaining revenue from whatever they made off of his name and image, the fact that they’d done so without permission and he’d only just learned about it annoyed him. Perhaps that fancy paper and wax he’d purchased would come in handy, after all…
“Fred, George!” Harry heard someone yell in an angry voice, breaking him out of his thoughts. Harry glanced up to see Percy, his Prefect badge shining on his chest, striding towards them. “What are you doing with those first years? And Harry Potter, at that!”
“We’re just having a little chat, Perce,” George moaned.
“Yeah,” Fred added, “ickle Potterkins has been avoiding us.”
Harry hid a wince. So they’d noticed.
“If you didn’t prank them, then maybe they would stop avoiding you,” Percy snapped. The Slytherins with Harry, and even those who were just listening in, agreed vehemently.
“We prank everyone!” Fred exclaimed.
“And that’s the problem!” Percy hissed. “If I catch you pranking them I’ll have you both in detention!”
“Low blow, Perce, low blow,” George grumbled.
Fred gasped, “You’d put your own brothers in detention!?”
Percy’s unamused expression was answer enough.
“Guess we’ll have to not let him catch us, then,” George murmured to Fred over Harry’s head.
The longer Harry stood with them on either side of him, the more his magic itched beneath his skin. Seeing the twins from afar was painful enough, but having them next to him, touching him, and conversing without a care in the world? Without knowing the grief that grasped his heart? It made him wish that he was anywhere but here.
Fred and George suddenly jumped away from Harry with a yelp as Harry’s magic shocked them.
“Ow!”
“What the—?”
They stared at Harry, bewildered.
“He hexed us!” Fred cried.
Percy just stared at them with his arms crossed over his chest. “I didn’t see him touch his wand,” he sniffed, “and it’s extremely unlucky that a first year can perform wandless nonverbal magic, so stop your whining.” He began to walk away, and after a baffled stare back at Harry, the twins followed their brother, moaning about how when they did magic in the halls that they got in trouble, when others did it, they didn’t get in trouble.
Harry rolled his eyes slightly in amusement and turned on his heel, heading in the direction of the common room.
“Harry, where are you going?” Draco exclaimed as he began to walk away.
“I’m not hungry,” Harry muttered. His stomach was squeezing queasily and he was sure that he’d be unable to stomach a single bite of food, let alone a whole meal. He’d sneak out later if he was hungry, and if not, he still had some butterbeer and meat pies under a stasis charm that he’d purchased on the Hogwarts Express.
Theo, perhaps knowing that he had no mood for company, urged them forward. Harry made it to the Slytherin common room swiftly but he really didn’t feel like curling up on his bed, it was much too spacious, and so he turned on his heel and headed further into the depths of the dungeons.
He wandered around, idly looking at the minimal decorations when he spotted a wall sconce in the shape of a serpent. It wasn’t out of place, it was well-known that the dungeons were the snakes’ domain, but the feel of magic around it was. Intrigued, Harry walked up to the sconce and imbued some of his magic. There was a hissing magic feel to the old magic in it, and so Harry also hissed “Open” just in case his imbue of magic did nothing.
The wall shivered for a moment before the bricks moved not dissimilar to the entrance to Diagon Alley, revealing a dim stone passageway covered in cobwebs and dust.
A thrill of adventure replaced the queasy feeling of grief inside him and without a second thought, Harry wandered into the passageway. He wasn’t particularly surprised when the door shut behind him, but he was impressed when blue and green-tinged fire lit up smaller serpent-shaped wall sconces. This type of everyday magic usually faded away, the magic in Hogwarts’s usual wall sconces had been replaced by every headmaster who took over, but the magic in this passageway was old and had a dark, hissing feel to it. It felt similar to the magic in the Slytherin common room but much much thicker. His breathing became low and slow and Harry felt drunk off the feel of the magic. It swirled around him, touched and prodded at his magic, and mingled with his. His magic, much to his surprise, eagerly accepted the foreign magic and Harry shivered at the feeling.
It was chilly, but pleasantly so, and Harry followed the flames, strangely entranced as if they were will-o’-the-wisps.
The passageway lead him all over the castle, he felt. The cold let up and he once heard the talking of a bunch of people as if he was in the walls near the Great Hall. He clambered up ladders, down rickety staircases, jumped down holes that had slides similar to that inside the Chamber of Secrets, and he even had to squeeze between a corridor that was the width of him.
Eventually, he was lead back down the corridors and Harry came across a hatch in the ceiling. He used his magic to see if anyone was near and was surprised when he felt Theo’s magic. Curious, he pushed open the heavy stone hatch and climbed upwards.
Theo, sitting at his desk, stared down at him in surprise.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed, completely breaking his pureblood pretence.
Harry was about to respond before Mischief bounded out from his bed and began to lap at his face with her slobbery tongue as a greeting.
“Wait, Missy, stop—!” Harry blurted before spluttering as Mischief’s tongue managed to make its way into his mouth. He shoved Mischief’s muzzle away and wiped at his mouth before climbing out and staring down at the hole and the hatch.
“Did you know this was here?” Harry asked, kicking the hatch closed. Now that Harry knew the hatch was here, he could see the outside of it, but it was barely visible even then. Theo, who had slept in this room Before, just shook his head. Harry hadn’t expected otherwise due to his startled reaction.
“I came across a Parseltongue-activated entrance in the lower dungeons. A lot of sconces lit up and kind of led me around, sorta like will-o’-the-wisps do. There were a lot of other passageways that hadn’t lit up, so I’m not sure how far the corridors spread. I’ll have to mark them out somehow,” Harry mused, thinking about the Marauder’s Map. One of the first things he’d done while training to see magic and individual spells was to check out the enchantments his father, godfather, Remus, and the rat put into it. Remus and his father had put a lot of their magic in it, and so had Sirius, and Pettigrew’s magic barely tainted it. He wondered how difficult it would be to make his own version of a Marauder’s Map…
“Okay, wait, hold up,” Theo said in disbelief. “Are we not going to talk about the fact that you just jumped into a random passageway and followed flames that resembled will-o’-the-wisps? You know, the creatures that have led many to their deaths ?”
Harry felt a little chagrined at Theo’s pointed tone. He was obviously remarking on the fact that his brash thoughts had led him into an unknown, potentially dangerous situation.
“It’s not like they were throwing fireballs at me,” Harry muttered, dutifully petting Mischief when she nudged his hand for attention.
“That’s beside the point,” Theo hissed. “You can’t just wander around secret passageways that only open to you without even checking them.”
“There was no malevolent magic,” said Harry with a shrug, relieved that he’d had the foresight to not mention how intoxicating the magic was. “Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one who knows of secret passages. I know for a fact that most of the Slytherins know some and use them daily. Especially the one that leads straight up to the seventh floor quickly.”
Theo, upon hearing that, just sighed.
“So…” said Harry after a moment. “Would you like to go exploring with me?” He was grinning at Theo, who he knew wouldn’t say no. His friend was just as curious about the castle’s workings as he was.
“Gryffindors,” muttered Theo.
“Slytherins,” Harry countered. He raised a brow at Theo who sighed.
“Fine,” he said. “It’ll distract me from the boredom, I guess.”
Feeling accomplished by getting Theo to agree to wander the dungeon’s passageways with him, Harry went on to discuss what sort of enchantments they should put into their map.