Shadows like Fire

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley managed to get lost five times on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast the first morning. Though they’d awoken on time, they’d panicked at finding their third roommate already gone and feared they’d slept in. They’d dressed hurriedly and left the common room, but somewhere between the third and seventh corridor they’d made a wrong turn. That wrong turn had led to another, and another, and they entered the hall with not five minutes to spare.

They got lost on their way to classes, as well, and it didn’t help that most every student stopped and stared at Harry. The two first years did their best to ignore the whispers, rushing past classrooms in an attempt to find their own.

In one such classroom that they passed, two brothers sat side by side, chatting excitedly.

“Dude, this school is awesome!” Mikey said as he and Donnie waited for Transfiguration to start. “The staircases move, the pictures talk, and there are ghosts! Ghosts, Dee, like actual, real ghosts!”

Donnie smiled at his younger brother’s enthusiasm. “I saw some of the ghosts,” he said. “Did you see the Gryffindor one? Nearly Headless Nick? When he showed those other kids how he was nearly headless, I could have sworn Raph jumped right out of his shell—er, skin.”

Mikey laughed. “Yeah, he was freaked.” The youngest Hamato noticed the quill and parchment in front of his brother and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, Donnie? You don’t happen to have any extra supplies, do you? I may have forgotten them in my dorm.”

He thanked Donnie as his older brother reluctantly handed Mikey his spares. Donnie shushed him when Professor McGonagall stood up in the front of the classroom. Donnie took note of how she stood at attention, lips pursed. He remembered going to Diagon Alley with her, but she hadn’t talked much, pointing out only what they needed for school and dropping them back off in London before promptly disappearing. 

The first day of classes, they didn’t practice any actual magic and instead took notes on the curriculum of each class. Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed interesting enough to the two brothers, but there was something about Professor Quirrell that seemed… forced. Mikey and Donnie exchanged glances, grimacing. 

Charms was a little better, and the teacher, a tiny man by the name of Professor Flitwick, seemed quite nice. He explained that Charms was one of the most important classes, and that most of what they learned in the class would be useful to them even after Hogwarts.

Three times a week they headed out to the greenhouses for Herbology, a class taught by Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff House. Donnie did well, of course, but Mikey seemed to thrive in that class, earning Hufflepuff at least ten House points every time they went.

Every Thursday night at midnight, they had Astronomy. Looking at the stars was, in Mikey’s opinion, one of the most boring things you could do, and Donnie agreed it was one of the more boring classes (though there were some lessons that he found fascinating).

The most boring class, however, had to be History of Magic taught by Professor Binns. As he droned on and on about past magicians, Mikey leaned over and whispered, “Dude, I think he bored himself to death.”

Donnie snorted, regarding the ghost that taught the class. “I think so too, Mikey.”

While Donnie was at least slightly intrigued by all of his classes, his favorite by far had to be Potions, taught by Professor Snape. Though the professor himself was not the most approachable, the subject itself was unlike anything Donnie had ever studied. He was constantly experimenting in that class, and while most of his experiments paid off, some exploded in his face. But the tallest Hamato brother was unbothered by this, as he was quite used to things exploding, and continued to experiment anyway (after he’d completed the day’s assignment, of course). This caused some other Ravenclaw students to glare at him, as his failed experiments caused Snape to deduct points from the House, but he ignored them, even letting Mikey chime in on his experiments (sometimes—most of the time, Mikey’s suggestions were the reason for the explosions, but that didn’t bother Donnie in the slightest). 

Mikey and Donnie hung out together most of the time, as they had the most classes together, but they hardly ever saw Leo and Raph. 

“I wonder how they’re doing,” Mikey said one time between classes. Donnie shrugged.

“Who knows? I’m sure they’re doing fine, though.”

As it turned out, they were not doing fine.

They, too, had classes together, the first one being History of Magic. When Raph saw Leo sitting alone at a table, he made a beeline for his brother, ignoring the glares of the Slytherins around him. He sat down next to Leo, and the two began to chat quietly before they felt someone approach their table.

They looked up to see a boy with blond hair smirking at Leo. Two boys stood behind him, one with broad shoulders and dull eyes, the other with long, gorilla-like arms.

The first boy ignored Raph completely as he stuck his hand out at Leo. “Malfoy,” the boy said as an introduction. “Draco Malfoy. Behind me are Crabbe”—he pointed to the boy with gorilla arms—“and Goyle.” He pointed at the dull-eyed boy behind him. “And you are?”

Leo glanced at Raph, who shrugged. Hesitantly he answered. “Hamato Leonardo,” he said, ignoring Malfoy’s outstretched hand. Leo expected the boy to turn to Raph, but he didn’t.

“Well then, let’s just get right to it. How would you like to sit at a table with me?” Malfoy asked, still ignoring Raph. He said it as though that was the most generous offer in the world. “That way, you don’t have to sit with Gryffindor scum.”

Raph bared his teeth, but Leo subtly shook his head in a way that meant, I can handle this. “Excuse me?” Leo said. By now, the other students had quieted down and were watching the interaction with bated breath. On the other side of the classroom, Harry and Ron exchanged matching looks. Hermione Granger, who was sitting near them, scoffed.

Malfoy finally looked between Leo and Raph and seemed to reach the conclusion that they were indeed brothers. “You’re one of those other Hamato boys, aren’t you?” he said to Raph. “Shame that you got put in Gryffindor, really. Not that the other Houses are much better, but Gryffindor—”

“I’m sorry, is there a reason you’re over here?” Leo asked, effectively cutting Malfoy off. 

The boy scoffed. “You really should sit with me, you know,” he said. He looked Raph up and down. “And you should approach the headmaster and ask for a House transfer. The Sorting Hat’s not known to make mistakes, but perhaps it’s made an error when it comes to you. A shame, really,” he said again.

At this point, Raph had had enough. “I think the Sorting Hat made the right choice,” he snapped. He didn’t know enough about the Houses yet to fully believe it, but he was willing to say anything to shut Malfoy up. “And I think the real shame is your hair. The top of your head looks like a polished banana peel.” Okay, maybe not the best thing to say on the first day, but he couldn’t help it. The brat was starting to piss him off.

Leo shot Raph a pointed look while Malfoy snarled. “Now, listen here, you—”

“No, you listen,” Leo cut in. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good at this table.” 

The way he said it made it clear that there was no room for argument, so Malfoy straightened and beckoned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. “Your mistake,” was all he said as he walked away.

The room had gone dead silent, and Professor Binns, who had been oblivious to the whole thing, took that as the chance to begin his lessons. 

Unfortunately, Leo and Raph had to deal with Malfoy in almost every other class. In Charms—which Leo was excited for, surprisingly—the brothers felt the glare of Malfoy and his little posse the whole time. They ignored them, listening intently to Professor Flitwick, a tiny man who had to stand on top of a pile of books to see over his desk. 

Defense Against the Dark Arts would be interesting, if it weren’t for Professor Quirrell. Raph and Leo both made to get seats in the back of the classroom, as far away from the stuttering professor as possible. There was something off about him, but they didn’t know what.

Transfiguration was one of the better classes. Professor McGonagall had begun talking as soon as they sat down for the first class. 

“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she said, looking at each student in turn. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.” Leo and Raph smirked at each other. Finally, something interesting. They were both transfixed when the professor turned her desk into a pig and back, then slightly disappointed when they realized all they were doing the first day was taking complex notes.

Professor Sprout taught Herbology in the greenhouses three times a week, and it seemed fine enough. But Raph’s least favorite class (not including History of Magic) was Astronomy, taught by Professor Sinistra. Much to his irritation, it took place every Wednesday at midnight at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

“Why do we have to learn about the stars?” he complained quietly to Leo as they left the Tower. “We literally went to space!” 

Leo shrugged, pulling Raph off to the side as the other students went in opposite directions to get to their respective common rooms. Raph looked at Leo curiously but said nothing, waiting until they were alone.

“Do you remember when we woke up here? Well, not here here, not at Hogwarts, but here in this world?” Leo asked quietly, and Raph stilled.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was right after…”

“Yeah,” Leo finished. Then he asked another question, just as confusing as the first, “Have you heard of Harry Potter? And Voldemort?”

Raph nodded. “The kid’s my roommate,” he said. “And Voldemort was some evil dude that disappeared like, ten-ish years ago.”

“But what if Voldemort wasn’t just some evil dude?” Leo pushed. “What if he’s—”

Raph stopped his brother before he could continue. “Leo. You need to stop worrying so much,” he said. “Yeah, I get it, life used to suck. But now we’re here! We’re at some magical school, we’re safe , and weirdest of all—we’re human. We can interact like normal humans can and do the things that normal humans do.” Raph’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to keep stressing about everything,” he said softly. “We can finally, finally relax. Enjoy it.” He felt bad for lying to his brother, he really did, because he didn’t trust anything about this school. But that didn’t mean Leo had to be on-edge all the time, either. Leo had done that enough for them in New York—it was Raph’s turn.

Leo smiled softly. “Thanks, Raph.”

Just then, Professor Sinistra came down the steps of the Astronomy Tower, stopping dead when she saw the two students. “What are you two still doing up?” she demanded. “To bed, the both of you. Now.”

Raph turned to his brother. “G’night, Leo,” he said. “And remember what I told you.”

Leo watched for a moment as his brother walked away, dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of going to the Slytherin common room. But Professor Sinistra was glaring at him, so Leo bid her goodnight and walked back to the icy dungeons.

“Well, well, well,” came a shrill voice as soon as he entered the common room. Leo groaned, rolling his eyes. He really didn’t feel like dealing with this. “If it isn’t—”

Malfoy stopped abruptly when Leo ignored him completely and went straight to his dorm. Slipping quietly into his bed so as to not wake up his roommates, Leo thought that there might be one good thing about the Slytherin common room—the doors drowned out any of Malfoy’s muttering. 

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

“What have we got today?” Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.

“Potions,” Ron said with a groan. “Snape teaches them, and he’s Head of the Slytherin House. I reckon Malfoy’s gonna have a field day in that class.”

After breakfast, the two made their way down to the classroom. Even if they hadn’t had Potions with the Slytherins, Harry decided that it still would have been the worst thing to have happened to him so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he’d been wrong. Snape didn’t dislike Harry—he hated him.

Potions took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape started the class by taking the roll, pausing at Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly. “Harry Potter. Our new celebrity.”

Harry heard Malfoy and his friends snicker behind him and did his best to ignore them. Snape continued taking roll, pausing once again when he reached two names. 

“Hamato Leonardo and Hamato Raphael,” he said coldly. Harry and Ron glanced back at the two brothers, who were sitting side by side, as they did every class. They’d tried to approach Raphael after he and Leonardo had shut Malfoy down, but it was nearly impossible to corner the Gryffindor, even though they were in the same dorm as him. “I’ve had your other brothers in this classroom as well,” Snape told them. “I hope you two do not cause the same amount of explosions as they do.”

Harry’s brows furrowed as Leonardo face-palmed and Raphael laughed lightly, though there was no hint of humor in the professor’s tone. He glanced at Ron, who shrugged.

Snape finished taking roll and addressed his students. “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.” Though he spoke softly, each student caught his every word. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.…I can teach you how to bottle flame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Silence followed Snape’s little speech, and the atmosphere remained tense for a long moment.

“Potter!” Snape barked suddenly, causing Harry to jump. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry was stumped. Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced desperately around the classroom, seeing that most other students were just as stumped as he was; Hermione’s hand, however, was raised.

“I don’t know sir,” Harry said.

He could have sworn Snape sneered at him. 

“Fame clearly isn’t everything,” the professor said, ignoring Hermione’s hand. “Let’s try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione’s hand, if possible, stretched even further, and Harry could hear the barely-contained laughter of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

“I don’t know, sir,” he said again.

Snape kept going, still ignoring Hermione. “What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

At this point, Hermione stood up, hand still raised.

“I don’t know,” Harry said quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”

A few people laughed, and Harry heard a very distinctive snort come from Raphael. 

Snape, on the other hand, was not amused. “Sit down,” he snapped at Hermione. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death. 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. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

There was a shuffling in the classroom as students pulled quills and parchments from their bags. Over the noise, Snape added, “And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

As class went on, things only worsened for the Gryffindor House. Snape put them all into pairs and had them mix up a simple cure for boils. The professor walked around, critiquing everyone except Malfoy, whom he praised. He made everyone look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs, much to the disappointment of all of the Gryffindors (and Leonardo). 

A loud hissing noise filled the classroom. A cloud of green acid smoke protruded from Seamus Finnigan’s cauldron, which Neville Longbottom managed to melt. The potion was seeping across the floor, but most students were focused on Neville, who was covered in angry red boils and groaning in pain.

“Yeesh,” Harry heard Raphael say as Snape marched over to the poor boy. “He looks worse than Mikey did when he had shellacne.”

None of what he had said made any sense, and before Harry could try to decipher it, Snape snarled. “Idiot boy!” The teacher cleared away the potion with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

The only response he got was another boil popping up on Neville’s nose.

“Finnigan. Take him to the hospital wing,” Snape demanded. As the two boys rushed out of the classroom, Snape rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to them. “You—Potter—why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

“That’s not fair!” Raphael said, jumping out of his seat before Harry could try to defend himself. Every pair of eyes was now trained on him, the students staring in shock as Raph said, “It’s not his job to look over everybody else! That’s your job. Why weren’t you paying more attention?”

For the second time that day, Leonardo face-palmed. 

“Ten points from Gryffindor for disrespect,” Snape said after a tense pause. “And if you ever speak to me in that way again, I will make sure you no longer have a place in this school.”

Electric green eyes glared at the teacher, but Leo pulled Raph back down and shot him a look that clearly said Shut up before I punch you in the teeth. Raph, wisely, listened to his brother, but every student could feel the anger radiating off of him.

The next hour of potions was tense. No student—not even Malfoy—dared to speak, as Snape kept his temper on a dangerously short leash. The Gryffindors practically ran out of the classroom when they were finally dismissed, trying to get as far away from the dungeons as they could. 

“Hold on, Ron,” Harry said, deciding to wait by the doors of the classroom. He had Friday afternoons off, and all he and Ron had to do was meet Hagrid for tea at three. They could wait as long as they wanted.

After a moment of waiting by the still-emptying classroom, Ron asked, “What exactly are we waiting for?”

“I’d like to know that, too,” came a voice from behind, and the boys turned to find Hermione waiting expectantly behind them. “What are you waiting for?”

“Bloody hell, you don’t just sneak up on a person like that,” Ron said while Harry sighed. He turned back to the classroom.

“We’re waiting for—wait, where’d they go?”

The classroom was now empty save for Snape. Harry looked around the corridor, seeing two pairs of robes disappear around a corner. 

“That way,” he said, taking off, and Ron and Hermione had no choice but to follow them.

“I’m starting to think he’s lost his marbles,” Ron said to Hermione as they hurried after him.

The three rounded the corner, and Harry stopped, stumped. “Where did they go?”

“Where did who go, Harry?” Hermione asked, exasperated.

“The… the twins! Or triplets or quadruplets or whatever,” Harry said. 

“You mean us?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione whirled to see Leonardo and Raphael seemingly appear out of the shadows. Raph narrowed his eyes at the three—or rather, at Harry. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly. 

Ron stepped back. Neither Hamato had their wand out, but there was still something that compelled Ron to put as much distance between him and them as possible. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “Harry’s the one who wanted to chase after you.”

“Er—I—well, I guess I—” Harry stammered. He cleared his throat, willing his mind to form at least one coherent sentence. “I just wanted to thank you,” he finally managed.

Raph raised a brow. “Thank me?”

“For the whole Snape thing,” Harry clarified, feeling awkward. “Y’know, telling Snape off or whatever.”

Leo sighed and began to walk down the hallway, causing the others to trail after him. “Don’t encourage him,” he said. “Raph tells everyone off. It’s just who he is.”

Raph gave Leo a playful shrug. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leo gave him a dead stare. “Vic,” he said. Raph paused for a moment.

“You mean Spider Bytze? Oh come on, that dude totally had it coming.”

“We all saw you tell Malfoy off, too,” Hermione added. “That was certainly a nice way to start off a Monday morning.”

“Yeah, that was bloody brilliant,” Ron added.

Raph and Leo groaned at the same time. “Don’t get me started on Malfoy,” Leo said. “It sucks that we have to be in the same school, but the same House? The same common room? Almost makes me wish—” Whatever he was about to say died on his tongue as Raph shot Leo a pointed look. “Anyway, he’s a git, is all I’m saying.”

They left the dungeon and made their way out to the courtyard. Thankfully, first years had Friday afternoons off, and most everybody was trying to take advantage of the fleeting warmer weather.

“Oy, Ron! Harry!” came a shout to the right of the group, and Harry looked over to see Fred and George laughing around some other students. The group made their way over there, as it wasn’t yet time for Harry and Ron to leave for Hagrid’s. 

One of the boys around the twins saw Leo and Raph. He beamed at them as Fred and George beckoned them over. 

“Greetings, Ron and Harry… and whoever you are,” one of the twins—Harry thought it could be Fred—said good-naturedly to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Let us introduce you to our new friend Mikey,” George said, and the twins put their arms around someone considerably shorter than them. Harry looked at the boy, his eyes widening slightly.

“You’re—”

“Hamato Michelangelo, at your service,” Michelangelo said, grinning. The three did their best to ignore the large scar that ran across the young boy’s throat. “But I go by Mikey. Or you can call me Doctor Prankenstein, Doctor Flippenstein, Doctor Name-enstein, Turflytle, the Mike-anator—”

“Okay, Mikey, I think you’ve introduced yourself enough,” Leo said, cutting his younger brother off. He and Raph had been hanging back, but decided it was time to cut in. Mikey held up a hand, shushing Leo.

“But I haven’t introduced my new best friends. Dudes, I want you to meet”—he paused dramatically—“Fred and George Weasely!”

Fred—or George—nodded his head in greeting as George—or Fred—grinned. Really, it was hard to tell, even if Harry had met them both before.

“Nice to meet ya,” Raph said to the twins, a bit impatiently. He turned to Mikey. “Where’s Donnie?”

“The library,” Mikey said. “He said he wanted to get a head start on his homework.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t started yours?” Leo’s voice was flat.

“Nope!” Mikey said happily. “Fred and George here have been showing me the ropes, teaching me about all the secret passageways—” He stopped suddenly, looking behind Leo and Raph at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had been watching the interaction with mixed emotions. “Dudes, why haven’t you introduced us yet?”

Leo looked between Mikey and the trio and said, “Mikey, meet Harry, Ron, and Hermione.”

Mikey looked at Ron and gasped happily, turning to the twins behind him. “You’re Ron?” he said. “Fred and George have been telling me all about you.” He shook Ron’s hand—though to Ron it felt like he was dislocating his arm—and turned to Harry. “And you must be Harry Potter,” he said. “I’ve obviously heard all about you, too, but it’s nice to meet you in person.” Harry smiled at the enthusiastic Hufflepuff as he turned to Hermione. “I haven’t heard about you, though.”

Hermione stuck out her hand. “Hermione Granger,” she said. She looked around. “Well, I’m off. I’ve got to get a start on homework and studying. See you later!” she said as she walked away. Mikey waved her goodbye, seeming to be the only one in the group who wasn’t startled by her sudden departure. 

Harry checked his watch. “Oh, I’ve got to leave, too,” he said. “It’s five to three. Ron, shall we?”

They bid goodbye to Fred and George and the Hamato brothers before starting at a brisk pace across the lawn. 

“What did Hagrid want to talk about?” Ron asked. 

Harry shrugged. Hagrid’s note this morning had been short and succinct. “All he said was he wanted to know how my first week at Hogwarts was,” Harry answered.

“And?”

“And it was fine until Potions.” Harry grimaced, remembering how unpleasant the class had been.

“Agreed,” Ron said. “But Raphael seems like a good enough bloke. And for a Slytherin, Leonardo’s not so bad.”

Harry nodded his agreement. “Did you see Michelangelo, though?”

Ron shot him a look. “Yeah. I mean, bloke’s a bit bonkers, but—”

“No, Ron, the scar.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw. What do you reckon happened there?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he said as they reached Hagrid’s house. “And I doubt we’ll ever find out.”