Hogwarts
The following month with the Dursleys was painful to say the least.
They, again, locked him up in that little cupboard of his. At least this time, he had books. Zhongli spent most of his time reading his textbooks, studying the Wizarding World and spells.
Oh, and he made a contract with them: If he gets to keep Azhdaha and Osial, he wouldn’t do any magic in the house.
Perhaps they were scared that he would magically give Dudley a pig’s tail like Hagrid did because they agreed.
The ex archon found it hilarious once he learned that they had to get the tail surgically removed.
Osial kept him company by complaining about Azhdaha most of the time, but it was company nonetheless. The little owl, no offense, was a bit dull. There was a time where the owl flew and hit itself on Zhongli’s only lightbulb, shattering it. He had then spent a week without light.
Good thing Zhongli was leaving today.
Hogwarts was a boarding school which meant he would be away from the Dursleys for a great amount of time, which was great, but he can’t help but feel nervous.
From the books, he had learned about the houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. He wasn’t really sure which one he belonged in.
And even if Childe would be coming to Hogwarts, they would be separated as their personality had nothing in common.
Which meant that Zhongli would have to make friends in whatever house he gets sorted in.
Making friends wasn’t what he was worried about, pretending to be a child was.
It was hard enough to act like a twenty eight year old back in Liyue, now he has to act like an eleven year old?
How was he going to pull that off?
Hagrid hadn’t given him any clear instruction the last time he saw him, other than a mysterious ticket that says: Hogwarts Express, Platform nine and three quarters.
Well first of all, where in Celestia is platform nine and three quarters?
He was currently pushing a trolley around Platform nine, trying to locate the three quarters.
~Morax, your idiotic owl will be the death of me one day.~ Osial suddenly hissed
He turned to see Azhdaha poking the back of his neck where the blue snake was.
“Osial, don’t be mean, I’ll put him back in the cage.” He said, doing so.
He had let the little bird out, trusting it not to fly away as Zhongli felt a little bad locking it in a birdcage, but Azhdaha was getting a little annoying hopping from one shoulder to another, pecking him and Osial.
“Now where is this platform?” He asked himself. He was beginning to think it never even existed, and Hagrid just gave him the wrong ticket.
However, it seems that somebody had heard him,
“Hello dear, are you perhaps looking for platform nine and three quarters?” A woman asked.
Zhongli nodded warily, was she a witch? Behind her were a few other gingers, and hold up, was that Childe?
It was hard to tell as he looked so different as a kid.
He had to suppress the will to call him over, as it would be suspicious that he knew his name before actually even meeting him in this universe.
“That’s wonderful, just follow me, My son Ajax is also starting Hogwarts this year- Ajax! Come here.” She yelled.
Ajax?
Childe came grumbling over, then suddenly stopped, noticing him.
For a second, Zhongli was worried that Childe wouldn’t recognize him, but he broke into a grin, joy shining from his blue eyes.
Zhongli smiled, the ginger looked very cute as a child.
“This is- what’s your name again sweetie?” The woman asked with a warm smile. She had not noticed the small reunion.
“My name’s Zhongli.” He replied.
He noticed how the woman’s eyes widened at that,
“O-oh nice to finally meet you Zhongli! You can call me Mrs. Weasley.”
Finally? Why did she act like she knew the name?
Hearing the commotion the other gingers had came over.
“No way…Is that actually Morax?” One asked.
“Woah, I think it’s him.” To Zhongli’s surprise, the latter was identical to the other one. Twins, he realized. Reminded him of Traveler.
Mrs. Weasley frowned at them, “Now, now, where’s your manners boys?” She said sternly, then turned back to him, “I apologize on their behalf, they don’t think when they speak.”
Zhongli smiled politely, “No it's all fine.”
Other than the two twins and Childe, there was another older ginger that was seemingly examining him, and a younger one, a girl, staring at him in awe.
Okay, something was definitely off, why did they all recognize him? And why by the name of Morax?
Oh that’s right! Hagrid had called him that too, perhaps it was his actual wizard name? But no, Ollivander had called him Zhongli. This was very confusing.
“Oh Merlin!” Mrs. Weasley suddenly gasped, she was checking her watch, “The train’s almost departing, Zhongli dear, follow me.”
As he pushed his trolley after her, Childe had snuck up beside him.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here, I mean- I kinda knew you would be here, but still, you know? It’s been so long.” Childe whispered to him, letting out a wet laugh.
Zhongli smiled, “I know, but let’s talk on the train, they might hear us.”
They fell into a comfortable silence after that.
Apparently to get to Platform nine and three quarters, he had to go through a brick wall?
He did so reluctantly, seeing as none of the Weasleys had rammed into it.
Surprisingly, he had not felt a single thing as he passed, other than sensing a shimmer of magic.
Hogwarts Express was a wonder, and buzzed with magic. Childe and him stared at it in awe, before Mrs. Weasley ushered them to find a compartment.
The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.
So Zhongli and Childe pressed on through the crowd until they found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Azhdaha inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door.
“Need some help?” One of the twins asked. They must have followed Childe and him.
“Oh yes, please.”
“Oi, Fred! C’mere and help!”
With the twins’ help, Zhongli’s trunk was, at last, tucked away in a corner of the compartment.
“Thanks.” He sat down on one of the couches in the compartment.
“No problem.”
Suddenly the oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed
into his billowing black Hogwarts robes and Zhongli noticed a shiny red and gold badge on his chest with the letter P on it.
“Mom’s calling for you,” he announced, “And if you need anything, I’m up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –”
“Wow! You’re a Prefect, Percy?” said Childe, with an air of great surprise, “You should have said something, we had no idea!”
“Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it,” commented one of the twin, “Once –”
“Or twice –” The other one added.
“A minute –”
“All summer –”
“Oh, shut up,” said the Prefect, rolling his eyes.
“So, any ideas on how to get back to Teyvat?” Childe asked, once he settled down on the couch across from him. Zhongli could feel the train departing.
He blinked, he didn’t expect Childe to go straight to that subject, “No.” He replied, bluntly.
The ginger frowned, clearly distressed.
“But I'm sure we’ll find a way home.”
“How?”
He shrugged, “There must be a reason why we are here. Perhaps the answer is at Hogwarts.”
Childe snorted, “At a school? What special thing could be at a boarding school?”
Zhongli simply hummed, “I’m not so sure, but don’t worry about Teyvat, we’ll figure something out in no time.”
The ginger was still frowning with uncertainty, “My siblings though…” He trailed off.
“If they’re anything like you, I'm sure they’ll be okay,” Zhong assured, “Your parents are still alive are they not?”
“Yes, but they don’t earn enough Mora for a family of five.”
Zhongli opened the cage to let Azdaha out while saying, “Have some faith in them, they won’t let your siblings starve.”
Childe sighed, “You’re right, I'm worrying too much.”
He hummed again, watching as the little red owl hopped around the table.
Suddenly the ginger beamed, “Wait, hold on, I got a pet too!”
Confused, Zhongli watched as Childe pulled out a rat from his pocket.
“I almost forgot Scaramouche was in there!” Chortled him.
Scaramouche had purple-ish black sleek fur, with beady purple eyes. An interesting creature. Somehow it reminded him of Beelzebul.
Around his neck, Osial hissed in delight, slithering out from his collar.
“No- Osial stop- that’s not food!” Zhongli cried, trying to grasp the snake, but it merely slithered out from his hand and onto the table.
The rat, seeing the predator, scurried away towards Childe with a squeak of terror. However, before Osial could follow. Zhongli managed to pin his tail down.
~Let me go, you bastard.~ The snake hissed, trying to bite his hand.
“Osial stop it, you can’t eat a pet. I’ll buy you some fresh, good dead rats later.” He bribed, pulling his other hand out of the way just in time.
The blue snake merely struggled more, before finally slumping in defeat.
“Sorry about that.” He apologized to Childe, scooping Osial up again, placing him back around his neck.
Childe was gaping incredulously. “You have a fucking snake? And you called it Osial?”
He coughed awkwardly, “Uh yeah, he reminded me of him. You should keep Scaramouche away from him, maybe even Azhdaha.” He glanced towards his owl. It was eyeing the poor rat as well.
Childe nodded hastily, tucking Scaramouche back in his pocket much to the rat’s displeasure.
After a brief pause, Zhongli spoke, “Childe, I’ve got a question.”
The ginger hummed. “About what?”
“Your family- The Weasleys, they seem to…”
“To know you?”
He nodded.
Childe raised an eyebrow, “You really don’t know."
Zhongli frowned and shook his head.
“Well, you’re kinda a big deal in the Wizarding World,” He explained laughing, “Apparently you defeated an evil guy as a baby who killed your parents and yeah.”
Huh?
He blinked, trying to process what he just said. “Oh.”
“So where have you been in the Wizarding World?” Childe continued, “I saw you at Diagon Alley a couple weeks ago, you were with a giant. Your guardian I suppose?”
Zhongli shook his head with a bitter smile, “No, Hagrid is not my guardian, I live with the Dursleys, they’re muggles, and they’re…fine.”
Childe frowned, noticing the hesitation on the “fine”.
“How have you been? The Weasleys seem nice.” He asked, trying to divert the attention away from himself.
Childe grinned, “Oh they are, plenty of fun, all except for Percy.”
“You seem to dislike him very much.”
“That’s because he’s a brat! Pompous bastard, always bragging. I can’t stand him.” He grumbled.
While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.
Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, “Anything off the trolley, dears?”
Zhongli, who hadn’t had any breakfast, got up, interested, but Childe stayed where he was looking longingly towards the trolley.
“Are you not coming?” He asked, peering at him curiously.
The ginger sighed, “No money, but it’s fine, Molly brought me a sandwich.”
“That’s alright, I’ll get you some.”
Before Childe could protest, Zhongli went out into the corridor.
Making sure that he did indeed, not forget his wallet, he peeked at some treats. There were Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Zhongli had never seen in his life. All looked fascinating, and it would be a shame not to buy them all.
So he did, paying the lady some golden coins, and went back to Childe with a bag full of sweets.
“Here, have some.” Said Zhongli, placing the bag on the table.
Childe was dumbfounded. “You know, I was sure you would forget your wallet again.” He said, dumping the sweats out, and picking a Chocolate Frog.
Zhongli let out a small laugh, “You have so little faith in me, I’m wounded.”
Before Childe could reply, the compartment door slid open once again.
Standing there was a sniffling boy with a chubby build, “Ca-can I sit with you-u?” He stuttered, wiping his eyes.
He exchanged a glance with Childe before nodding. “Of course you can. Come here.” Zhongli patted the spot beside him.
“Th-thanks.”
Childe examined the poor boy, “So why are you crying?” He asked bluntly.
“I-”
“Have you seen a toad? Neville lost his.” A bushy haired girl interrupted standing in front of their compartment door, “Oh! There you are, Neville! Have you found him yet?”
Nevilled shook his head.
For a moment Zhongli was worried that Osial ate the toad, but the snake fortunately never left the compartment.
Childe crossed his arms. “Come on, don’t cry over that! I bet your toad will turn up eventually.”
Neville merely sniffled again.
Azhdaha had made his way to the tearful boy and pecked his hands which caused Nevilled to jerk away with a cry of surprise.
Childe rolled his eyes, and Zhongli flashed him a glare, before picking his owl up, back into his cage.
“That’s a cute owl you got there,” The bushy haired girl commented, “A Western red screech owl, of course I know this because I read all the books surrounding magical creatures already.”
Zhongli was kind enough not to correct her that Azhdaha was an Eastern red screech owl.
The girl went on, “And I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice, it worked wonderfully. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”
She said all this very fast.
From Childe’s face, it was clear he hadn't even started reading them.
“Ajax Weasley, but I’d prefer you call me Childe.”
“Child? As in like Child? That’s a weird name," commented Hermione, snorting.
“Hey! You have no right to judge, your name is literally Hermione. And it’s Childe, with an e at the end.” Childe scoffed.
“Hmph! I can see why it’s Child now, you act like one.”
“What?! Excuse me? You’re the one that started this!”
Hermione ignored him though, and turned to Zhongli, “What’s yours?”
He passed a Chocolate frog to Neville before replying, “Zhongli Rex Lapis.” I think. He wanted to add.
Next to him Nevilled choked on the chocolate, and Hermione gasped.
“Are you really?” Said Hermione excitedly, “I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”
Across him Childe smirked, with an I-told-you-so face.
He coughed awkwardly, “Really?”
“Yes! But wasn’t your name originally Morax Lapis Potter?” She asked.
“I’m not so sure myself actually…”
Thankfully Childe cut in, “My brothers told me that Dumbledore changed his name to Zhongli Rex Lapis because he wanted him to have a fresh start.”
Hermione sat down next to Neville, making Zhongli’s side of the couch a bit cramped up.
“Your brothers? I bet they’re called Teen and Adult.” Said the bushy haired girl, snickering.
“They are not! Urgh- Zhongli help, she’s bullying me.”
He smiled, “Hermione? Which House do you think you’ll be in?" He asked, diverting the attention away from Childe’s poor name.
Childe sent him a look of gratitude.
“The houses? I’ve been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be so bad. Also, do you mind if Neville and I stay here? Our compartment is quite far away, and I’m sure those rude boys stole it.”
“Of course not,” Zhongli said, “And eat as many as you want, I’m not a big fan of sweets.”
“Yet you brought so many, but that’s expected of you.” Childe said with a grin.
They talked for a while, before Childe and him went to change into their robes.
Coming back, he noticed a little card that showed a man’s face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long crooked nose and flowing silver hair, beard and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.
“Hm, so that’s Dumbledore.” Zhongli commented.
“He looks a bit dramatic.” Childe added.
Hermione sighed, “Please don’t tell me you never heard of Dumbledore before.”
Zhongli turned the card over.
Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor 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. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.
Nicolas Flame, that name sounded familiar. He just couldn't place where he heard it from. That's weird, he always had perfect memory.
Probably nothing.
As he flipped back over to examine the wizard, he was gone.
Frowning, he tried flipping it again. Still gone.
Childe, Hermione and him, were all confused as all of them were not from the Wizarding World, but thankfully Neville explained, timidley, that these portraits are magic, and you can’t expect them to stay there all the time.
“Oh that’s bloody cool!” Hermione said, peering at another moving card.
Next, they tried some jelly beans, and Childe forced him to taste one. It was awful. Horrid. It tasted like seafood and he almost puked. That bastard ginger must have found his reaction funny because he laughed for a whole minute.
Neville became more open, but still a bit shy. It reminded Zhongli of Xiao when he was younger.
Then they were disrupted again by their compartment door opening.
Childe groaned, annoyed, he was in the middle of talking about this sport called Quidditch. “No offense Neville, Hermione, but could people stop barging in our compartment?”
Three boys entered and Zhongli immediately recognised the middle one at once: it was Draco from Madam Malkin’s robe shop. He was looking at Zhongli with irritation.
“So you're Morax?” Draco said, “Why didn’t you say so at the robe shop?”
“You know him?” Childe asked, arching an eyebrow.
Zhongli nodded, “I met Draco while buying my robes, we’re friends.”
“That’s right, and you shouldn’t be hanging around with some blood traitors and a Muggleborn,” Draco sneered, “This is Crabbe and Gyole, actual purebloods like me.”
Before Childe could say anything stupid, Zhongli spoke, “Uhm, yeah, so about that, I’m actually not a Pureblood, a Halfblood really.”
Draco's eyes widened a bit before frowning, “So you’re a blood traitor too, but I guess I could make an exception for you as you are the famous Morax.”
“It’s Zhongli.” Childe corrected.
“Oh, a Weasley, wanna know how can I tell? My father told me that all Weasleys had red hair, freckles and wore hand-me-down robes, with more children than they could afford.” Draco smirked, and his two companions snickered.
Childe slammed his fist on the table and stood up, probably about to punch the pale kid.
“Childe, calm down, and Draco, that wasn’t very nice of you.” Zhongli said, disapprovingly.
Draco merely crossed his arms and scoffed, “You’ll realize sooner or later, Morax, that Purebloods are better.”
And with that they left.
There was a tense silence before,
“The audacity of that boy! Barging into our compartment and insulting us? He’s worse than Percy! You shouldn’t be friends with him, Zhongli.” Childe exclaimed, furiously. “I can’t stand snobbish brats.”
“Same here,” Hermione said with a frown, “I hope I’m not in the same house as him.”
“I heard his parents are Death Eaters.” Neville added softly, looking terrified.
“Death Eaters?” He asked.
“F-followers of You-know-who.” Neville explained, stuttering nervously.
Zhongli tapped his chin thoughtfully, “Perhaps we could get Draco to spy on them.”
Childe snorted. “Are you crazy? That bitch will never agree.”
He shrugged.
It was getting late now.
A voice suddenly echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”
Zhongli and Childe exchanged a tense glance.
Together the four of them packed the leftover sweets back into the bag, and waited.
The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way towards the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Zhongli shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and Zhongli heard a familiar voice: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Morax?”
Hagrid’s big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.
“C’mon, follow me – any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”
Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Zhongli thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, who had just finally found his toad again, lost it once again.
“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”
There was a loud noise of amazement that rippled through the crowd of children.
The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Zhongli and Childe were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione.
“Everyone in?” Shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, “Right then – FORWARD!”
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
“I still prefer the Lantern Rite more.” Zhongli muttered to Childe, who laughed.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of under- ground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
“Trevor!” cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Next to him Childe snorted. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid’s lamp, coming out at last on to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.
“Everyone here? You still got yer toad?”
Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.