Autoclave

“You packed last night, I thought.” Harry knew that Narcissa would skin him alive if she heard him speaking in such a manner, but Draco never told when he felt like doing so. He was sure the other boy had been packed and ready for at least a week, though, and wasn't sure why he was panicking now, at 6am on the day they'd be leaving.

“Of course I was packed last night, Harry, we both know the other has been packed and waiting for this for a week now.” Draco have Harry a Look, just like his mother with his facial expression, and Harry sheepishly acknowledged that okay, yes, he had also been packed for a week. But Draco just continued with his thought. “I can't shake the feeling that there is something I'm missing here, though. I've been repacking everything since 5 and I can't figure out what I'd be forgetting.”

Harry grinned and plopped onto the blonde's bed. “Did you bring you special pillow?” He teased lightly, knowing it was already packed. “Or that stuffed dragon you've been carrying around since either of us can remember?” He watched the pink tinge that came all the way up to Draco's ears, giggling and preparing himself just moments before his brother jumped on him, wrestling around. It was a normal occurrence.

A delicate laugh from the doorway broke them apart, as Narcissa entered the room. “Get dressed, both of you! Your Aunt Bella has insisted on seeing you this morning, and is coming for breakfast, and Rabastan and Rodolphus will be with her.” They didn't get those visits often, the Lestranges having to be careful to not be caught out.

“Aunt Bella is coming?” Harry piped up, jumping off Draco and grinning as they other scrambled to his feet as well. “When will she be here? Soon?” The youngest of their household sometimes asked far too many questions, and he stopped short of another as the door to the room flew open again.

“I'm already heerrreee, darling!” The black-haired woman burst through the door and twirled herself in, jumping to land on Draco's bed. She cackled delightedly to herself as her entrance brought both the Potter and Malfoy to her quickly. She was insane, indeed, but that also came with a terrible loyalty that knew no bounds. She had always wanted a child of her own, but had found out after a year of attempts that she would never be able to carry one, and she had then basically claimed Harry as her own.

“Aunt Bella, did you come to send us off to Hogwarts?” Draco piped up, sitting on the bed, next to the woman.

“Absolutely not! I came to keep you to myself, of course!” The woman grabbed him and threw him onto the pillows, showing off her legendary strength. “And you!” She turned as Draco laughed, pulling Harry into a spin as she had done at their first meeting. It was something he had become accustomed to. “You get to meet your ickle little Light Lord today, Harry, aren't you just enraptured?”

Her voice had turned sickly sweet, bringing laughter bubbling in Harry that he had had a hard time tapping into since the occasion with the voice in his head, but now he let it bubble out of him with joy. The woman had always been able to bring a grin to his face, even if she was often a rather terrible influence. “Of course I am, Bella, you know how much I absolutely adore Dumbledore and his posse of Lights!” He teased back, getting a laugh out of his Aunt.

“Little Harry! How are you ever going to live up to your reputation? You surely should be larger than this! Have you shrunk since we last saw you?” Bellatrix giggled to herself as Harry huffed and crossed his arms.

“I am a perfectly average height for an 11-year-old, thank you!” Harry huffed and pouted, getting another laugh from both Bellatrix and Draco, who had stayed sprawled on his bed. It was rare that they got to see their Aunt, and they both allowed themselves to be quite a bit more childlike when they got that chance.

After Harry got over his indignation and they had all had their fill of laughs, Bellatrix meeting his beautiful Amara for the first time and cooing over the snake, who really loved the attention, they went down for breakfast. Being 10 minutes late to a Malfoy breakfast was cause for reproach, but the occasion got them off with a stern look from Narcissa, and then time passed more quickly than they could have anticipated until, suddenly, they were on the train, in a compartment with their friends, on the way to Hogwarts.

***

Hogwarts. The castle was magnificent. It was old, older than anyone knew, for that matter. The Founders themselves hadn't even known how old the castle was, in their time. It had just been a property of the Peverell family, ancestor of them all, for as long as could be remembered. So they decided that Hogwarts, the castle that almost seemed sentient even when it was at its most still, was the place to start their school.

Slytherin didn't build the Chamber of Secrets. He found it. He was prone to midnight walks in those early days of their plan, staying up until the break of dawn some days, wandering the castle. And one of the wanderings lead him into a portrait passage that he hadn't noticed before, a portrait of a tree with a dragon wrapped around the base. That was where he found the underground passage that lead him to a chamber he could call his own.

At the same time, Gryffindor was finding a room on the very opposite end of the castle, on the 7th floor, a room that seemed to come and go as it was needed, and that filled every requirement of the need. He, too, was prone to midnight rambles, and he returned night after night to the room that settled his mind and gave him what he needed to accomplish his goals, the plan to create a school for all magical children where they would be safe from the Muggles that sought to harm them. It was going to help them all. And the four of them were almost there.

When Hogwarts first opened, the Founders didn't have a plan for sorting the children to teach them. They chose who was best suited to be taught by them personally, and each taught about what they thought was most important in life as well as what the children needed to know about magic. And the castle thrived in the magic-soaked atmosphere it had missed for so long. And it became more and more sentient and complex and magical.

The children loved all the little things about it. Staircases moving and corridors changing, making rooms and deleting them, the castle pulled out all the stops for the children it housed. It delighted when the children found the passages it created, and one Yule morning they all woke up to the ceiling of the Great Hall being as cloudy as the sky outside and snowing gently, the snow disappearing just before it touched any surface.

This sight, the sky inside the Great Hall with a moon as bright as it was outside, was enough to steal the breath of every first years in 1991. Harry and Draco were among these 11-year-olds, and were just as amazed by the beauty of Hogwarts as all the others.  Harry had nearly fainted when they caught sight of the castle, the magical aura it gave off being stronger and larger than anything he'd seen before. The magic flowed so freely, not held down by a channel like any wanded wizard, not erratic like a child's, but somewhere in between the two. It was amazing.

And then the hat on the stool in the front of the hall started to sing.

“A thousand years or more ago
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide
Their favourites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?

Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!”

The hat finished up to murmurs and astonished looks from the first year students. And the sorting started.

“Abbott, Hannah.” The Deputy Headmistress started. And so it went. Draco was sure he would be a Slytherin. Harry was… uncertain, of the course the hat would take with him. He thought it would be Slytherin, but he did tend to rush into trouble and was often teased about being a soft-hearted Lion by his family. They claimed he had a “saving people thing”, which was possibly true.

Then Draco was called, and the hat had barely touched his head before yelling out his house. “SLYTHERIN!”

And Harry was then paying close attention as a few others were sorted before his turn. He was nearly shaking with excitement, seeing the magic infused into the hat, and when his name was called he had to remember his mother's training to remain poised and responsible.

•Oh, yes, another Potter, eh? But very different from the last, I see…• The hat some into his head, causing Harry to blink and glance up at the brim of it before thinking back.

•Yes, I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you. And your name, Mr. Sorting Hat? I assume you have one, that is.• Harry knew this jar would decide his future today, and has been told to respect those that had power over him, though he did sometimes fail to do so and suffered for it. The hat seemed to pause for a moment, though, causing him to fidget.

•Not many ask for my name. But it is Alistair, of you must know. You are indeed a tricky one… and you seem to be aware of your own problems within the sorting system. How very Ravenclaw… but no, that isn't your House. You aren't a Hufflepuff either, it seems, though you are loyal enough. You could be great with the help of Slytherin… but you're also very suited to Gryffindor. You're the most tricky mind over come across in quite a few years, young Potter. Slytherin could make you great. But you don't seem to want power. You want… strength. And for such odd reasons, I see. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone about who you wish to impress. However, I do have you sorted...• Harry didn't interrupt the hat as it mused, listening in fascination and slight anxiety to his monologue. •Better be• “GRYFFINDOR!”

Claps and shouts went up from the tables, slightly louder, it seemed, than for the students before him. He wasn't entirely sure how the lions would feel about him when they realized he wasn't all they thought he would be, but for then he just headed quickly to the table on the far right of the Great Hall and sat next to a girl with bushy brown hair and Neville Longbottom, a boy he found himself feeling slightly bad to meet in, but who had an amazingly impressive magical core. He introduced himself to the girl, a Hermione Granger, and knew her to be a Muggleborn from her manner and the lack of recognition on her face, but her core was a beautifully bright yellow with bits of green floating amiably through it, and he wondered how much it would take to convince his family of the equality of Muggleborns from showing them her core next to that of Pansy Parkinson, whose magic was much duller from generations of inbreeding.

The last Gryffindor took his seat, a ginger that could only be a Weasley, and the sorting was over soon after. Harry got odd looks for still clapping enthusiastically as his Slytherin friend Blaise Zabini was sorted, but he just ignored them rather happily. At the end, Dumbledore made some rather odd comments, and then the feast began with a flourish, the tables filling with food. Harry had taken a moment to focus on the Light Lord, though.

He was honestly just a tad disappointed in what he saw in the old wizard, was this really their worst competition? He reminded Harry of a grandfather, and his magical core was very… odd. It wasn't as bright as he had assumed it would be, but it was very light still. Not like Narcissa’s silvery core or Draco's blue. It seemed to be a very faded shade of green, and there were some orange flecks through it, but it also has a ring around the edge of it of a rather unfittingly bright red. He had seen cores like that before, and he knew it meant a bond to a magical familiar, and a strong one, from the vibrancy. But the strangest thing, and what he felt the urge to write to home about, was the… brittle feeling that core gave him. It seemed to be actually crumbling around the edges, and Harry watched it closely as he spoke, seeing what appeared to be Particles of magic floating off every minute or so. Dumbledore was sick? Or just old? He wasn't sure, but he knew that he had to tell his father. He came to this conclusion just as the speaking ended in gibberish and the tables filled.

“S-so, Harry, did you th-think you'd be put in Slytherin after living with the M-Malfoys?” Neville was obviously not very accustomed to speaking to someone he didn't know, but the younger boy did seem just curious rather than rude with his question, so Harry smiled and shrugged.

“Oh, I've always been rather odd to them. Like when Pansy's kneazle kitten wouldn't climb out of a tree it had wanted to explore, so I went up after it and would have broken my wrist in the fall if it wasn't for some accidental magic. They all thought I'd be a Lion.” He dipped food onto his plate as he spoke, and knew that more than just Neville would be listening. In fact, a pair of red-haired twins stood up and shoved the youngest Weasley male up the bench, sitting in front of Harry instead.

“Oh is that-”

“-so? In that-”

“-case, how would you-”

“-like us to share-”

“-a little survival tip with you?”

The twins switched off during their sentence, finishing together, but Harry was looking at the cores of the two and not particularly paying attention. Their magic was… entwined. He'd never seen it before. And where the younger Weasley had a core of a mild blue, little bits of pink streaking through it from his wand, the twins core were larger and brighter, and not just in a way that showed age. One had a core of electric blue, with bits of orange in it, the other had a new-grass-green core, with particles of yellow, and in the space they shared, their cores seemed to merge, swirling together in a way he could only call happily.

He snapped back to the conversation to look at them blankly for a moment. “I would love some tips.” He decided then to befriend these two, wanting to study them. They were so different… it would be interesting. Even if their family was full of blood traitors. “But I must ask first… Your names?” He watched them exchange a glance, their magics mingling even more for a moment before they grinned at him.

“I'm Fred!”

“I'm George!”

They said simultaneously, probably a diversion tactic, but Harry got his answer anyways, nodding and giving them a small smile.

“Pleased to meet you, then.” He held his hand out to the blue twin. “Fred.” He watched the shock turn into excitement on their faces, and Fred shook his hand. “And George.” He smiled at them both as he took the green twin's hand then. They would be good allies, at the very least.

Just then he felt a sliding around his arm under his robes and realized that Amara must have smelled the meat on the table, the young 3 foot Python poking her head out of his robes. *Hello, there. Did you smell something you like?* He mused, ignoring the looks of alarm he was getting as he pulled her from his shoulder and let her curl in his lap.

*Meat… bird? You woke me with all this noise. Feed me.* Sometimes she was more grumpy than others, and he dutifully tore a piece of chicken off for her. *.....Thanks,* she finally conceded, nuzzling his hand before taking the chicken.

*Of course, Amara, you know I'll always feed you when you want.* He had made that rule from the stark memories of gnawing Hunger before the Malfoys, and he always followed it.

“I didn't know we were allowed other pets.” Hermione piped up quickly and looked at the snake in interest rather than the disgust or fear from most of the other neighboring students. Fred and George were whispering to each other as they watched Harry’s interactions with the snake, and Neville seemed to be rather… well, he took it surprisingly well. And he was the one to answer.

“W-we aren't supposed to have a pet other than a toad, owl, or cat, b-but we can bring a-um… a familiar, if we have one.” He stuttered out, and seemed to relax a bit more after that. “Familiars can be c-controlled better than just a pet… it's connected to your m-magic.” He explained, and Hermione's eyes lit up at the new information.

“Really? Connected to your magic? And this is your familiar? Does that extend its lifespan? What happens if it gets killed? What happens if you get killed?” She stopped short at the flat looks on both faces, blushing. “Sorry, I… like to know things.” She mumbled, going back to her food, but smiling back at the two when she got smiles for that.

“Everyone should like to know things.” Harry agreed and thought about her questions for a moment. “I don't know everything about familiars. But I do know we have a book or two on them in the Malfoy library. I could request that Mother send me a few , if you'd like. I doubt the library here would have anything outside the restricted section. It's not a very common practice anymore. Most people think it's a Dark trait.” He looked for a betrayal of distrust on the faces of his new friends, but only got nods, but the other Weasley apparently had been listening to them.

“And you have a snake as a familiar? Sounds Dark to me! Looks like those lousy Malfoy gits corrupted you after all!” The ignorant ginger first year huffed and scowled at Harry, but got smacks on the back of his head from both twins.

“Oh, hush, you-”

“-or we'll mail mother about-”

“-your obvious lack of respect-”

“-for a Potter heir!”

The twins have him stern looks, getting a laugh from Harry, which caused them to both look at him in surprise. “Because I'm the Potter Heir. Merlin, that's refreshing.” He grinned at the twins and got winks back, the food changing to dessert on the table. Amara had gotten enough chicken, though, and was snoring softly on his lap, so he just helped himself to some Treacle Tart, humming in contentment.

It seemed being a Gryffindor wouldn't be so bad after all.