Chapter 5
Albus Dumbledore was very confused.
According to James and Lily, it was just them in the relationship. Although, he hadn't specifically asked them if they had a third, and they hadn't mentioned otherwise. They also hadn't told Albus what their new last name was, and he'd just assumed Lily took her husband's last name, which was the common thing.
It couldn't have been Sirius that was their third because he was dating Remus, although they both thought that Albus didn't know. Andromeda was madly in love with Ted. Narcissa was married to Lucius. Bellatrix, while she hated Lestrange, would never have married James because he was a blood traitor and Lily because she was a Muggleborn. There were no other Blacks even close to James' and Lily's ages.
Except Regulus Black.
Of course it had to be him. The man's 'death' in 1979 hadn't sat well with Albus. They never found the body, and Bellatrix never raged about her cousin's betrayal. Of course, that meant that either James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus were spies and traitors, or Regulus had managed to turn to their side without being caught.
None of this really mattered. It just meant that the two boys had Slytherin DNA in them, so they would never trust Dumbledore or want to be in Gryffindor.
He decided to talk to them about a resort anyway. Hopefully, the Gryffindor DNA from two parents would be enough, especially with Harlequin's outburst.
Sinistra nudged him gently, and he remembered that he had to start the feast. Albus stood regally, relishing the almost immediate silence and the awed looks.
"Welcome!" he said warmly. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you!"
Albus sat down as the food appeared on the tables, watching the Potter-Black twins out of the corner of his eye as he dished some roast chicken onto his plate.
Voldemort was also very confused, for basically the same reasons.
He knew, of course, that Regulus hadn't been killed in 1979, because he'd found the poor man's body in the Albanian forest as a wraith a few days later. It had been suicide. Obviously, Regulus loved James and Lily and was distraught over their deaths.
What Albus didn't know was that, while Lily and James had indeed denied him three times, it had been very reluctant denial. Clearly, either the prophecy didn't apply to either boy or he'd misinterpreted it. He needed to hear the whole story.
He was confused because Regulus was one of the more Gryffindorish of Slytherins, James was incredibly reckless and arrogant and Lily was determined and brave. Why was only Harlequin Potter-Black showing Gryffindor qualities, while his brother was watchful and cautious?
Quirrell tried to break out of his hold again, and Voldemort shot him an image of his dead brother. The man retreated, letting Voldemort have full control of his body again.
Obviously, he didn't have anyone on Quince Quirrell, because none of his followers knew he was alive, but Quirinus didn't need to know that.
He had to get his body back. Soon.
Severus Snape was relieved.
He had hated James Potter-Black, for the shit the spoiled bitch put him through during school. He was so glad that Harrison and Harlequin were little to nothing like James Potter-Black.
He did see Lily's kindness, cleverness, and determination in them, as well as Regulus' caution and distrust. He couldn't see anything of James in Harrison other than the color of his hair, though, and once Harlequin no longer needed glasses, the only similarity he had to James was the ADHD.
He did realize that most of the qualities they would have gotten from James would have been eradicated after all the abuse.
As Severus was thinking about this, he realized suddenly that the prophecy wasn't quite accurate anymore. Regulus had never denied the Dark Lord, at least to Severus' knowledge. Maybe just two of the three parents was enough to qualify one of the boys? He needed to know the full prophecy. And he knew Harrison would want to know it, as well.
Percy Weasley was torn.
On the one hand, he had always thought Slytherins were evil. They were underhanded, sneaky cheaters who didn't care who they hurt. And You-Know-Who had been a Slytherin.
But on the other hand, Percy knew his brother. Ron was quiet and cautious, but he was also kind. He would play chess or Quidditch with their neighbor, Luna (who Percy was quite sure was crazy), without judging her or insulting her. He asked Luna questions about the creatures she and her father believed in and listened intently. Ron was a good person.
So Percy did what he always did when he was confused about something.
"Ollie, I need your help."
Oliver Wood looked up from his mashed potatoes, raising an eyebrow at Percy. His heart skipped a beat, but he ignored it.
"Another debate? This early in the year?"
"Your position will be 'Slytherins are evil,'" Percy said, "and mine will be 'Slytherins are good.'"
"But Slytherins are evil!" exclaimed a third year.
"I don't think it's that simple," Percy admitted. "Come listen to the debate if you don't believe me. Saturday after dinner, Gryffindor common room."
"Sure."
Neville was having the same issues at the Hufflepuff table.
He'd been told all his life that Slytherins were evil and Gryffindors were good. But Harrison was a Slytherin, and he'd helped Neville while he was finding his toad. He'd been kind and polite, and he hadn't been rude or snobbish, like his gran and great-uncle claimed they were. Harley was a Slytherin, too, and he was hilarious.
Maybe there were exceptions.
Hermione wasn't having any problems with Harrison and Harley being in Slytherin, because she hadn't been raised to hate children. That's what she told everyone who talked down about Harrison.
"But the books said-!"
"Books are written by humans, and humans make mistakes," Hermione retorted. "Harrison told me those books are wrong, and he was raised by Muggles."
"He's obviously lying," said someone scathingly.
"He knew Muggle terms," Hermione retorted. "That red-haired boy was his brother, and he shouted a well-known Muggle phrase, at least among teenagers and kids."
"What did he think of the Muggles who raised him?" asked Lisa Turpin curiously.
"He and Harley didn't want to talk about them," Hermione sighed. "I don't think the Muggles like them. But they did say they've met Muggles they do like."
"Oh, really?" someone scoffed. "Who?"
"Harley mentioned a previous next-door neighbor and one of their primary school teachers, both incredibly goofy, and Harrison likes almost every librarian he meets."
"I suppose it would be weird if he did hate Muggles and Muggleborns, considering who his mum is," Lisa agreed.
"Are you Muggle-raised?" Hermione asked her curiously. When Lisa nodded, Hermione and her new friend started a conversation about memes.
"Ahem," said Albus Dumbledore.
Ron jumped. He hadn't noticed that the dessert had disappeared, and that Dumbledore was standing.
"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
He glanced at Fred and George with amusement sparkling in his eyes. The twins gained extremely innocent looks, earning quiet snickers.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Ron realized Dumbledore was serious, and he stared at him incredulously. Why the fuck would they let anything that dangerous be inside a school of children?
Harrison's expression was dark behind a mask of calm, meaning he'd noticed that as well.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore said brightly. He waved his wand, clearly ignoring the suddenly stiff expressions on the teacher's faces, conjuring words into the air.
Harley lit up, and Harrison groaned.
"Everyone pick your favorite tune," Dumbledore beamed, "and off we go!"
Ron didn't bother opening his mouth because he sounded like a dying cow. Most of the Slytherins stayed silent as well. But Harley's clear, sweet voice sounded, singing in an unfamiliar tune.
"Is that 'Spoonful of Sugar?'" one of the other Slytherin first-years choked. Ron thought her name was Davis.
"Yes," Harrison said resignedly.
"Because Dumbledore said 'off we go?'"
"Yes."
Everyone finished the song at different times -- Harley finished the fastest, though. He then eagerly joined in with Fred and George's funeral dirge, a dramatically sober expression on his face. Harrison sighed irritably.
Once the applause had finished, Dumbledore wiped tears off his face and said, "Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
(And trot Harley did, obviously, to the annoyance of several older Slytherins.)
Draco sat still and poised beside Harrison, waiting patiently. He knew Slytherins had a different introduction to first years than the other Houses, and his father had hinted about a Court of some kind.
The Prefects were standing around them, stiff and tall. The other Slytherins were silent. They were clearly waiting for something.
One older Slytherin was squirming a lot, glaring at the Potter-Black twins. Draco tensed, but Harrison glanced at him with a reassuring but warning look.
Finally, the boy couldn't take it anymore. He jumped up and marched over to Harrison and Harlequin, causing every Slytherin to turn to face him.
"Potter!" he exploded, looking furious. "You can't be in Slytherin! You'll ruin our reputation!"
Harrison said nothing, just watched him with an unreadable expression. After a very long pause, he said in a very calm voice, with just a hint of acid, "And how do you know I will ruin our House's reputation, xe wixen?"
Everyone shuddered except Draco, Harley, and Ron. Draco and Harley were watching Harrison eagerly.
The boy sputtered. "I -- I just know!"
"You just... know," Harrison said sleekly. More shudders. "You clearly know me so well, xe wixen. Have been in the deepest parts of my mind. How else would you be able to claim I would ruin Slytherin's reputation?"
"Y-you -- what-"
"I will give you a few moments to think about your statement, xe wixen," Harrison said smoothly, "and then, if you still believe I am supposed to be a heroic Gryffindor, I will prove to you that I was meant to be in Slytherin."
But the boy had been sorted into Slytherin for a reason, because he quickly sat down without speaking, looking pale and angry. Draco knew he would confront Harrison again, but not with such a big audience next time.
A door at the back of the room opened, and a group of older students emerged. They went and stood in a semi-circle in front of the first-years.
"Welcome to Slytherin," said one of the boys sleekly. "I am Heir Primus Avery. I am the King of Slytherin's Court."
The girl beside Avery introduced herself as "Heiress Patricia Parkinson, Queen of Slytherin's Court."
Beside Draco, Pansy Parkinson looked smug.
"Slytherin's Court is a group of students who are in charge of making our rules and protecting us from those who hate our House," Avery said calmly. "You will be expected to follow our rules, which are fairly easy to follow, don't worry. Before we get into the rules, you need to choose one of the first years who will enforce these rules and protect you. They won't be part of the Court, but an extension."
"I nominate Draco," Parkinson said quickly.
"Miss Parkinson, I didn't give you permission to call me by my first name," Draco insisted. "And I nominate Harrison."
"I second the notion," Harley said, faking an elderly man's voice. It was surprisingly accurate.
"Do you vote for Mr. Harrison Potter-Black as your leader?" Avery asked, casting Harley a slightly amused look.
Most of the first years raised their hands, but Parkinson and another girl kept their hands down.
"A majority," Avery hummed. "What reasons do you have for not voting for Mr. Harrison Potter-Black, Miss Pansy Parkinson, Heiress Rookwood?"
"He's a blood-traitor and a half-blood," Parkinson sniffed.
"You don't know that, Miss Parkinson," Avery said sternly. "Heiress Rookwood?"
"We don't know much about Mr. Harrison Potter-Black, your majesty," said Rookwood in a surprisingly clear voice. "I want to know who xe wixen is before I trust xe wixen with my safety."
"I prefer the pronouns he/him, xe wixen," Harrison said calmly. She dipped her head. "I understand your concerns, but it's rather difficult to learn to trust someone in the course of an afternoon." He paused. "Perhaps we could vote again on the weekend, your majesty, and have a prefect escort us between classes until then?"
There were a few sputters of protest, notably from the boy who confronted Harrison before, but Avery said, "That's a good idea. I'd like to have a word later, if you're okay with that, Potter-Black."
Harrison nodded in agreement.
Avery straightened. "Now for the rules. Professor Snape will introduce those."
Draco's godfather appeared suddenly from the shadows, making half the students jump, then laugh.
"Teach me to do that, pleeeeeeeeaaaaase?" Harley begged.
"Absolutely not," Snape said, unimpressed. There were several snickers and snorts. "My name is Professor Severus Snape, or Potions Master Prince, for those who don't know me...."
Voldemort might have been insane, but he wasn't stupid. He had known the minute Dumbledore had announced that the third floor corridor was off-limits that it was a trap. The only reason he even took this job in the first place was to study the Potter-Blacks and to get his Horcrux back. He had already decided to restore at least two of his Horcruxes, which would return him to his own body, instead of having to make a new one. He wanted nothing to do with that corridor.
(He also hoped to find a way to apologize profusely to Severus for killing his honorary sister. He definitely wasn't in love with Severus, of course not, but the man was one of his most talented, most powerful, and most loyal Death Eaters, as well as a trusted friend, and he didn't want to lose him.)
Quirrell's body needed sleep. He would get the Horcrux on the weekend.