“I’m telling you, my aunt and uncle never saw it coming. I never even saw it coming - I didn’t know magic could manifest so late.” Harry told Ron and Hermione quietly as they sat together in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. 

“So he had a bit of accidental magic and then what? He suddenly got his Hogwarts letter? He’s thirteen!” Ron questioned, stealing a glance towards the sleeping professor in their compartment to see if he was disturbing the man, “What did your aunt and uncle do?”

“Should we invite him to come sit with us?” Hermione asked, glancing towards the doorway, “I know the two of you don’t get on, but I imagine he’s probably scared right now.”

Harry and Ron both gave Hermione an incredulous look, and she turned away with a huff of annoyance. Harry turned his attention to Ron, answering, “Dumbledore reckons his magic didn’t manifest normally because he and his parents were so against anything out of the ordinary. Once he got past that mental block, he was able to access his magical core. Uncle Vernon was so angry that he had to leave the house for several days just so he wouldn’t do something he’d regret. Aunt Petunia seemed sad. I half-expected them to start treating him differently, but apparently having magic is acceptable when you’re Dudley.” 

“How did he take it?”

“Dunno - he wouldn’t talk to me about it.” Harry made a face, his side still sore where Dudley had punched him when Harry had dared ask about Dudley’s magic the previous weekend. “Professor Dumbledore came round to explain everything to my aunt and uncle, but he didn’t take us to Diagon Alley, Professor McGonagall did. I don’t think she was impressed by the way he had a fit over not being able to buy everything he wanted; she made him stick to the list. And when she told him he’d have extra lessons to help him catch up on everything we learned in first and second year, he knocked over a display at Flourish and Blotts. She was so mad, she told him that if he did anything like that again she’d have him serving detention on day one.” 

Ron grinned, freckles dark on his tanned face. He’d spent the summer away and hadn’t learned of this new development until they were getting to the train and Vernon and Petunia had accompanied Harry and his cousin on the platform. He’d instantly recognized them from the previous summer, where he and the twins had rescued Harry from his bedroom-prison, and had been full of questions. 

“I still think you should invite him to join us. The other students may bully him.”

“Good.” Harry and Ron said in unison, and Harry was lost in thought for a moment as he imagined a world where he had friends and Dudley did not, as opposed to primary school where the opposite was true. 

“Honestly, you two can be so mean.” Hermione sighed, “Even if he’s not very nice, he doesn’t deserve to be harassed before he’s even had a chance to get to school and fall in love with magic.” 

“We’re mean?” Harry asked, his voice raising slightly as he became defensive, “He’s been nothing but mean to me my entire life. That would be like saying that Malfoy and his goons had a falling out so we were going to invite him to ride with us. It would do us more harm than it would do Dudley good, trust me. You just don’t know, you’ve never experienced him.”

As if she’d summoned him, the compartment door opened and Dudley stood in the entry way, his wide bottom barely fitting through the door arch. 

“There’s a lady with a trolley who is selling sweets.” Dudley told his cousin, ignoring his friends completely, “But I dunno what all of the sweets are. I don’t want to look stupid in front of the others, so you’re going to tell me what to buy.”

“You’ve got all of the money we switched over at Gringotts? Buy some of everything and then share it with the people you’re riding with. It may help you make friends.” Harry replied logically, “It can be lonely at school if you don’t have any mates. Who are you sitting with, anyway?”

“I don’t remember all their names.” Dudley replied, “And I’m not going to share with them. This is my money. They can buy their own treats.”

“Oh alright, then, I’ll come with you.” Harry sighed, standing and crossing over the compartment, “I’ll be right back, guys. Want anything from the trolley?”

Ron reached in his pocket, but Harry waved him off, “Chocolate frogs, mate?”

“And treacle fudge?” Ron asked, hopefully. 

Harry nodded, then turned to Hermione, “Anything for you?” 

“Just a pumpkin juice, if you don’t mind.” Hermione answered, also reaching into her pocket for money, only for Harry to roll his eyes and walk out before she had a chance to grab a single knut. 

Harry followed Dudley down the hall, awkwardly asking, “How’s it going?”

“Found some others who absolutely hate you.” Dudley commented, though the malice his voice usually held wasn’t as strong as it was back on Privet Drive, “Dunno what you did to make those blokes so bitter, but I had to promise I hated you too just to be allowed to stick around once they learnt I was your cousin.” 

“Slytherins, then.” Harry muttered, “The feeling’s mutual.” 

They approached the trolley, and Harry quickly explained the different sweets that Dudley wouldn’t recognize, trying to give him a muggle sweets association to help him figure out what he wanted. Soon, Dudley had purchased a stack of treats and disappeared back into his compartment. 

As Harry purchased a few items for himself and his friends, he glanced into the compartment Dudley had entered. Just as he thought, it was full of Slytherins. He was a bit surprised; Dudley was muggleborn after all. He supposed that Malfoy and his mates probably thought they could suffer through associating with a muggleborn if it meant they could get more information to use against Harry. He could only hope that Dudley would keep his mouth shut about what life was like at the Dursleys and stick to other less embarrassing tidbits of Harry’s past. 

“What are you staring at, Potter?” Malfoy spat out as he spotted Harry looking at the group, “Jealous that you’re stuck with the mudblood and the weasel instead of spending time with more cultured wizards?”

Harry didn’t miss a beat, and replied, “No, I was just wondering what made you decide to change your hair.” 

A subtle flick of the wand and a murmured incantation as he walked away instantly changed Draco’s hair from blonde to pink, and he hurried back to his own compartment to avoid retaliation as the Slytherin compartment erupted in chaos. 

He sat down and handed Ron and Hermione their treats, a grin on his face. 

“What did you do?” Hermione asked suspiciously, feeling the change in energy coming from Harry. It was the same energy that she felt around the twins when they’d come up with a new prank, and between that and the smile she knew something had happened. 

Harry shrugged, innocently replying, “Have you seen Malfoy? He coloured his hair.”

“He did? Or someone else did?” Hermione asked suspiciously, “This will just continue to escalate until someone gets hurt.” 

 Ron and Harry ignored her disapproval, Ron laughing and patting his best mate’s back in appreciation, “Nice one, Harry.” 

Hermione looked like she wanted to say more on the topic, but their conversation halted when the train stopped and the lights flickered out. 

“It’s too early to have arrived. I wonder what’s going on?” Hermione asked curiously, glancing towards the window, “Should we go check--”

The three students gasped when they were overcome with a cold sensation, a dark figure gliding into their compartment. Harry heard a scream, saw a flash of light, and then darkness. 

When Harry came to, he was surprised to find that besides Ron and Hermione at his side, Dudley was also kneeling beside him, an unusual level of concern apparent on his porkly features. 

“What happened?” Harry asked, pushing his glasses up a bit to rub his eyes as he tried to wake up fully, “What was that?”

“A dementor, they guard Azkaban.” Hermione supplied, “Professor Lupin got rid of it. He told us to give you this…” Hermione handed Harry a bit of chocolate, and he stared down at it in confusion. He still had no idea what was going on. 

“Do those-those things come round a lot here?” Dudley asked, his voice trembling slightly, “I don’t think I like those demenders.”

“Dementors.” Hermione corrected, though no one acknowledged it. “And no, I don’t even know what they’re doing on the train. It’s very unusual.”

“They’re probably looking for Sirius Black.” Ron reasoned, “But they didn’t need to linger so long; it’s clear he isn’t here.”

Harry shakily rose to his feet, then sat back into his seat, “Who screamed?”

Three pairs of eyes met his own, and their confusion spoke volumes. 

“No one screamed, mate.” Ron said slowly, “Are you sure you heard screaming?”

Harry didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know Ron was thinking about the last time only Harry could hear something and the basilisk that nearly killed his little sister. 

“Maybe...maybe I imagined it.” Harry replied hesitantly, “Did any of you, um, you know--”

“No mate,” Ron replied, shaking his head, “You’re the only one who went down. They were awful though, it felt like I was never going to be happy again.”

“Professor Lupin used some sort of spell to scare it away, I didn’t recognize it though.” Hermione seemed very off-put that she hadn’t known the spell, “And then your cousin appeared.”

“It shook up everyone in our car.” Dudley told the trio, “That bloke with the pink hair tried to pretend like he wasn’t scared, but I know what a scared kid looks like.”

Harry grinned, despite the situation, at Malfoy being called the ‘bloke with the pink hair’. He wiped a layer of sweat off of his face with his sleeve, feeling a bit stronger and less confused now that he’d had some of the professor’s chocolate. 

“So you’re okay, right Harry?” Dudley asked, though he looked away when Harry stared at him in confusion. This day was getting stranger and stranger. 

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be happy if I never come across another dementor, but no harm done.”

“Good, you were having some sort of fit when I got here. I didn’t want you to die or something.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Draco Malfoy, who was now wearing a hat to cover his hair, “Potter, I heard you fainted like a girl when the dementors came through.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Harry retorted, barely sparing his rival with a glance. He wasn’t in the mood to fight just yet. 

“Come on, Dursley, I don’t know how you can even stand the stench of being in the room with this lot.” Malfoy demanded arrogantly, turning on his heel without waiting for a response. It was clear that the invitation wasn’t an option. 

Dudley looked apprehensive to leave, which confused Harry even more than the dementor situation did - Dudley had never willingly spent time with Harry before, so why wasn’t he jumping at the chance to leave with someone who would happily share the larger boy’s disdain for his cousin. 

“Go ahead, Dudley - we’re probably nearly to the station, anyway.” Harry encouraged his cousin. While he didn’t want Dudley and Malfoy teaming up against him, he also didn’t want to have to entertain Dudley for the rest of the trip. 

The rest of the trip passed by quickly, the three Gryffindors discussing Dudley’s newfound magic for a bit before moving on to other topics such as Sirius Black and the dementor that had terrorized them on the train. Before they knew it, they had arrived at the station and were being ushered towards the school. 

Harry shuddered when he spotted the dementors off in the distance, which did not go unnoticed by Malfoy and his gang of bullies. 

“Ohh, Potter, are you scared?” Malfoy taunted, “Are you going to faint again?”

Harry took a step towards Malfoy, suddenly full of anger that needed a release. He had expected Malfoy to continue bringing up that incident, but expecting it did nothing to dampen the embarrassment and anger he felt at it being brought up yet again. 

“Oh no, Potter’s mad. Are you going to tell your Mummy and Daddy on me?” Malfoy jeered, “Oh, wait, can’t do that because they’re dead. Do you miss your dead Mummy and Daddy, Potter?”

Harry lunged towards the Slytherin, but found himself being held back by not only Ron, but Hermione as well. 

“It’s not worth it.” Hermione said quietly, “Harry, just ignore him. He’s just trying to rile you up.”

“Care to repeat that, Malfoy?” Dudley asked, coming between his cousin and his new friend, “That’s my aunt and uncle you’re talking about.” 

Dudley may not have known any spells to use in a duel, but he had the advantage of being larger and more intimidating than Malfoy or his friends, all of the years of terrorizing the neighborhood streets finally paying off in Harry’s favor for once.

Malfoy took a step back, then brandished his wand, “I’m not afraid of you, Dursley.”

“Maybe you should be.” Dudley retorted, taking a few steps towards Malfoy so he was right in the boy’s face, “I dunno who you think you are, but I’m the only one who gets to tease Harry about his parents. You’d better back off.” 

Harry went still in his friend’s grasp, jaw dropping open as Dudley openly defended him. What was this? Did the dementors somehow addle Dudley’s brain? Since when did Dudley ever do him any favours? 

“So you’re an idiot, just like your cousin.” Malfoy scoffed, “I can make it or break it for you at this school, you do not want to cross me.”

“I don’t care who you are, I’m not scared of you or your name or your status. You’re just like every other arrogant pillock I’ve ever come across; all talk and nothing to back it up with.” Dudley asserted, giving the blonde one hard shove, “Now leave us alone.” 

They continued their trek towards the castle, the three Gryffindors and Dudley in silence for a few moments, until Harry commented, “Thanks, Dudley. You didn’t have to get on his bad side, I could have handled it...but thank you.” 

“He’s such a prat!” Dudley exclaimed, “He went on and on and on during the train ride about who he was and who his parents were and all sorts of things I couldn’t care less about. Anyway, you couldn’t help what happened with the dementoids anyway; I’ve never seen anything or anyone make you fall out like that, so I don’t think you were just scared or something like he’s saying. And bringing your parents into it was a low move.”

“That’s just how he is.” Harry said with a shrug, “Anything he can think of to take the mick with…”

“But it’s not right.”

“Dudley, you and your mates take the mickey all the time. You guys say all of that stuff and worse to me day in and day out all summer.” Harry reminded his cousin, “What’s the difference between you doing it and Malfoy doing it?”

Dudley looked at Harry as if he’d grown a second head, “Seriously?”

“Yes, Dudley, seriously.” Harry replied with exasperation, “It’s literally the same thing.”

Dudley fell silent for a minute, and as they approached the castle, he told his cousin quietly, “It’s different because you’re my cousin and my friend, and he hates you.”

“You hate me, Dudley.” Harry reminded the beefy boy, “You’ve always hated me. You get mad when I’m included in anything in your life, you terrorize me and beat me up and allow your friends to chase me around to do the same. You tattle on me to your parents when you know how it will end, and you intentionally do things to get me into trouble.”

Dudley stopped walking, turning to Harry with a frown, “Well, yeah, but not because I hate you.”

“What?” Harry asked, gaze narrowed as he tried to follow along with his cousin’s logic. 

“I mean, that’s just how we get along, Harry.” Dudley shrugged, “Taking the piss and sibling rivalry and all of that stuff. I don’t actually hate you.”

“You’ve done a fantastic job of fooling me, then.” Harry declared, green eyes shining brightly. He couldn’t tell whether he was angry or relieved, especially as he was still on edge from the dementors not only on the train, but off in the distance on the grounds. What was he supposed to do with this information? Could he even trust that Dudley was being truthful? 

He glanced at his friends, who had wisely remained silent and who were watching the cousins carefully. He was saved from having to respond, though, as McGonagall met them at the front of the castle steps, “Potter, Granger - I’d like a word with you.”

The stern professor gave a look to Ron that caused him to shut his mouth with an audible click before he even had the chance to protest, and the redhead tilted his head towards the entrance, “Come on, then, Dursley. I’ll show you where you’re supposed to go.”

Harry was dismayed to discover that word had already made it to the castle about the fainting episode on the train, and with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance, he allowed himself to be questioned by his head of house while being poked and prodded by Madam Pomfrey. 

“I’m fine, really.” Harry said for what felt like the hundredth time, “It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal, though.” Hermione told her friend before the two adults could respond, frowning slightly, “You just don’t like it when people fuss over you. Passing out is not something that happens to normal, healthy people. You were the only one of us who it happened to, of course they’re going to worry over you.”

Hermione turned to Professor McGonagall, “He’s always like this.” 

“We know, Miss Granger.” Pomfrey sighed, waving her wand around the boy pensively, “I’ve never met a child who was so resistant to even the most basic--”

“I’m fine.” Harry interrupted, already having heard this lecture before, “May I go now?”

“I want you to find me immediately if you start to feel poorly.” Pomfrey told the boy firmly, “I’m sure Miss Granger will be more than happy to accompany you if the need arises?”

“Yes, mam.” Hermione agreed, shrugging slightly at the annoyed look Harry shot her way. She wasn’t going to be made to feel guilty for watching out for her friend, especially with his track record of not looking out for himself. 

“You may go, Potter.” McGonagall acquiesced, “If you hurry along, you may get to see the end of the sorting, as well as your cousin’s sorting.”

Harry wasted no time in making his way down to the Great Hall, wanting to put as much distance between the two adults and himself as possible in case they changed their minds about letting him escape. 

As luck would have it, he sat at the Gryffindor table just as they called Dudley to be sorted. 

“Where do you think he’ll end up?” Ron asked curiously, “I hope for his sake it’s not in Slytherin - after the way he talked to Malfoy, he won’t make it to morning.” 

Harry wasn’t sure, and he didn’t respond. 

The hat seemed to be taking a long time in making a decision on placement. Harry wondered if it was because there were no redeemable qualities to help place his cousin; Dudley was not incredibly intelligent, nor was he fair and loyal. Harry had never known him to be brave nor ambitious, either. 

“It needs to hurry up, I’m starved.” Ron complained after a few moments of watching the hat do absolutely nothing. The rest of the hall seemed to agree, as whispers and conversations started popping up in all four tables as the hat deliberated. 

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a span of four or five minutes, the hat reached a decision, declaring “Gryffindor!”

Harry would have fallen off of the bench if Ron hadn’t grabbed his arm to keep him upright. Gryffindor?! How could that possibly be?! 

As if it weren’t bad enough to have Dudley turning the neighborhood kids against him, chasing him down and hitting him whenever the mood struck, and ruining every potentially positive thing throughout the summer and their primary years, now he wasn’t even going to get a break from him at school? Why was this happening to him? 

“I’m doomed.” Harry muttered to his friend as Dudley slid off of the stool and placed the hat down, “Why Gryffindor? How could he possibly end up here? We’re nothing alike.” 

“Looks like we’re going to be roommates.” Dudley told his cousin, sitting opposite from him at the table, “Imagine that.” 

“Yeah, imagine that.” Harry said dully, still numb from shock over the latest development. Dudley being a wizard seemed like much less of an imposition when Harry had thought Dudley would be sorted elsewhere. Now he just felt like the walls were closing in on him and his escape from the loneliness and harsh conditions of Privet Drive was meaningless, as that life had followed him here. 

Dumbledore introduced the new professor and made an announcement that Hagrid would be taking over Care of Magical Creatures, but even that news wasn’t enough to bring Harry out of the fog that had descended over his brain. Different scenarios ran through his mind, each worse than the previous, as Harry contemplated all of the ways Dudley could ruin his life here at school. When the food finally appeared on the table, Harry was no longer hungry and didn’t even bother to serve himself a plate. 

Meanwhile, Ron and Dudley dug into the meal with gusto, and Harry cringed as he realized there was a similarity between the two boys. His mind wandered to Dudley standing up for him against Malfoy, Dudley’s declaration that he didn’t hate Harry after all, and the way Dudley had seemed concerned about him on the train. What was happening to his cousin? Could this be the same Dudley that had bruised his ribs just days ago? The same Dudley who banged on his door every time he passed because he knew it would rile up Hedwig? The same Dudley who had pitched a fit the day before because Harry had taken a single biscuit from the tray when he’d had nine of his own? 

Harry was still lost in thought as the feast ended, and he barely processed Percy’s words when the Head Boy told them the new password for Gryffindor was ‘Fortuna Major’. 

“It’s really hard to find your way around at first,” Ron was telling Dudley as they ascended the staircase, “But soon it’ll become second nature, eh Harry?”

Harry didn’t hear his friend, though, still walking in a daze. Dudley, in Gryffindor, at Hogwarts. It wouldn’t be long before the entire school knew the secrets he kept about his life in Surrey. 

“Oi, Harry, watch out!” 

Dudley’s warning came too late and Harry ran directly into another warm body, nearly losing his balance and falling down the stairs had it not been for both Dudley and Ron reaching out to steady him. 

“You’re in for it now.” Ron muttered, and Harry finally cleared his brain fog enough to realize what he’d just done. 

“Mr. Potter….looking for detention already? I would say that’s a new record, but I recall how last year began for you.” 

Harry remained silent, locking eyes with Snape and sullenly waiting for his punishment. It would do no good to argue and he wasn’t in the mood to give Dudley even more ammunition to tease him with later. 

“Sorry, sir, Harry didn’t mean to run into you--”

“Silence!” 

Harry winced, looking towards Dudley with an expression that hopefully told the boy to shut up before they all got in any more trouble. 

“He fainted on the train, his mind’s just not in the right place. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Silence!” Snape repeated, this time angrier and louder than his initial command, “Mr. Potter, since you and your fan club cannot control yourselves and conduct yourselves in the manner appropriate for a child your age, the two of you can join me in detention tomorrow at 7. Don’t be late.” 

The professor started to walk away, but then turned back to regard the dark-haired Gryffindor once more, “Don’t think your theatrics on the train mean anything to me; I know how attention-seeking and self-serving your behaviors are. You won’t win any favors with me with your act.” 

“I wasn’t--” Harry began to argue, annoyed in a way that only Snape could bring out in him. He clenched his fists angrily, ready to defend himself against everything the professor had claimed and assumed about him, but stopped as Snape got right into his face. 

“Twenty points from Gryffindor for arguing with your superiors.” 

“I wasn’t--”

“Forty points.”

“That’s not fair!” Dudley said loudly, drawing attention from the other students in the hallway, “Just because you’re a teacher doesn’t mean you get to pick on your students, especially when they’ve done nothing wrong.”

Harry thought for sure that the potions professor was about to assign them a year’s worth of detentions and take some ridiculous number like 1000 points for Dudley’s outburst, but instead Snape lowered his voice to the most intimidating level he possessed, and told the new student, “I don’t know how things were ran at whatever muggle institution you were educated at prior to coming here, but at this school we show respect for our professors and we don’t respond with cheek. If you want to know what happens to cheeky, disobedient brats, I suggest you ask your new housemates for their experiences in those matters. Go. To. Your. Dormitory. Now.” 

The boys didn’t hesitate and the three scurried up the stairs quicker than Snape had ever seen a student move out of his way. 

“Who was he?” Dudley asked, panting as they waited for one of the staircases to return so they could finish their trek to the common room, “The scary one?”

“That’s Professor Snape.” Ron supplied, “He has it in for Harry, and you’re probably on his list now, too. He’s the head of Slytherin, and you won’t find a nastier professor...and that’s including the one who tried to kill Harry first year.” 

“What? Someone tried to kill you?”

Harry gave a half-smile, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Snape hadn’t trailed behind them to take more points, then replied, “Several someones. Welcome to Hogwarts.”

This was going to be the weirdest year ever.

Chapter Two:

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly as he sat at the table for breakfast, stifling a yawn as he reached for a piece of toast from the rack. 

“Send him back.” Ron gumbled from beside him, wearily piling eggs and breakfast potatoes onto his plate, “Beg for him to be re-sorted...something.” 

“If I could, mate…” Harry trailed off, propping his elbow on the table to rest his head, “Believe you me…” 

Having Dudley as a dorm mate was not something Harry had been expecting nor something he was prepared for. For years, it had just been Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean and himself in the room and they were pretty accustomed to each other’s personalities, behaviors and nuances. Bringing Dudley into the mix was like leading a bull into a china shop. 

It was bad enough that Harry and Ron weren’t big Dudley fans from the get-go, as Harry had grown up with his cousin and Ron had heard enough about him and the Dursleys to automatically associate the boy with Harry’s mistreatment. As for the others, Dudley had gone out of his way to be a menace from the start and there was definitely no camaraderie to be felt between the other three Gryffindor third years and their newest peer.

It began when Dudley had a fit because he wanted the “good” bed. Harry wasn’t sure what made the bed Dudley had been eyeing better than the rest, but the bed was Neville’s and had been for years. Dean, Neville, and Seamus had tried to explain that to Dudley and guide him towards the additional bed set up for him, but Dudley had immediately slipped into tantrum mode. 

Harry had heard the shouting from where he’d been talking with Ron and Hermione in the common room and wasted no time intervening. After all, his own possessions were in the room and Dudley wasn’t known to be gentle or discriminatory of other people’s belongings when riled up. 

After dodging blows from his cousin and failing to get the larger boy to listen to an ounce of reason, Harry had pulled out his wand and decided to shut his cousin up the only way he knew how; a vague threat of magic. Honestly, he was surprised that threat had still worked, seeing as how Dudley was capable of using magic and hadn’t seem frightened by it nearly as much as he had in previous years. He supposed Dudley thought Harry may know some spells to actually  hurt him, though, because he immediately quieted down and stopped swinging at Harry’s face. 

Harry had always been friendly with Dean, Seamus and Neville, though he was much closer to Ron than to any of the other boys in the dorm. It was surprising to see that the other three had been quick to back Harry up as soon as Dudley had started throwing muggle punches, and after calming his cousin down, he’d had to stop Dean from taking a few hits at Dudley as well. 

Things had only escalated from there. 

Dudley had nice, new school items; a stark comparison to Harry’s possessions. Sure, Harry had new schoolbooks, parchment, quills, etc. that were necessary for a new school term, but he was wearing robes left over from the previous year and his other clothes were as atrocious as ever. He hadn’t wanted to bring his Aunt Petunia, who had accompanied them to Diagon Alley, anywhere near his vault, so he had to prioritize what to spend his galleons on while shopping. Watching Dudley get fitted for robes had been funny, as Harry was certain Madame Malkin didn’t usually see students quite as large as his cousin, and having Dudley get new items while Harry watched and left empty-handed had seemed to brighten Aunt Petunia’s day as well; she had even gotten him an ice cream cone when they’d stopped for treats later, though that may have been a result of having a professor present. 

The difference between Dudley’s wardrobe and Harry’s had not gone unnoticed by the other Gryffindor boys, who had always just assumed that Harry’s relatives were poor and couldn’t afford nice clothing. Seeing Dudley arrive with a trunk full of brand new expensive clothes had quickly told the others that there was more to the story than they’d originally assumed, and they’d been properly offended on Harry’s behalf. 

Dudley had been oblivious to the boys’ hard stares and glares, though he quickly gathered that there was some animosity present when he’d snapped his fingers and told Harry to unpack his things (as he would have at home, if he was willing to have his items touched by such freakish hands) and was met with a bat bogey hex that would have made Ginny Weasley proud. 

Dudley had not been prepared to have magic used on him again, or perhaps he was having flashbacks to the pig tail he’d received a few years prior, because he immediately started wailing like a toddler and panicking so terribly that a fourth year in the corridor had fetched McGonagall because he thought something terrible was happening in the fifth year dorm. 

McGonagall had not been pleased. 

The other boys didn’t think it was fair - Dudley had been making a right mess of things since the moment they’d entered the dorm between his tantrum over the bed, muggle-style brawling, and a generally unpleasant personality. She had launched into a stern lecture over welcoming new students with respect and dignity, had accused the boys of being shameful Gryffindor students, and then sent Seamus to find Filch for detention, ignoring the fact that it was curfew and the first night of school. 

Harry supposed that if it had been anyone other than Dudley, who had been making his life miserable for 12 years now, he would have felt sympathetic towards the new kid and guilty at McGonagall’s lecture, but he was having a hard time drumming up that sort of emotion at the moment, all things considered. 

Dean had been furious that they were being penalized and Seamus had gotten detention, and proceeded to launch into a passionate defense of his friend. All in all, McGonagall didn’t seem to care that Dudley had been throwing punches (“It’s his first night in a new school, and you four were ganging up on him, after all”) or that he’d started all of the chaos to begin with (“you should be leading by example, not engaging in fighting - Harry, especially you. Is this any way to treat your family?”). 

By the time McGonagall had left, Dean and Harry were even angrier than when she’d arrived, Neville was on the verge of tears from frustration, and Dudley was wearing a smug smirk that Harry had grown to loathe over the years. 

Ron had come up shortly after, asking the group, “What was McGonagall doing here? Why’d Seamus leave?” 

Just like a match to a jug of petrol, the argument was ignited once more. 

By the time tempers had settled down and peace had been restored to the dormitory, Dudley had been trip jinxed, then silenced so he wouldn’t start wailing again, the room was in complete disarray, Harry had a busted lip and a bruised cheek - one from Dudley’s fist, the other from hitting a desk as he was pushed over, Neville had learned thirteen new swears from Ron, and Dean had made an oath to go to the library and learn a whole host of new jinxes and hexes to use on their newest Gryffindor should he ever dare to speak to them again. 

Harry had been unable to sleep, just waiting on Dudley to retaliate when he least expected it. Merlin knows Dudley had launched surprise attacks on him in the middle of the night before. He wasn’t going to be humiliated in front of his friends when Dudley inevitably snapped back into his Privet Drive habits, whether he wanted to call it ‘sibling rivalry’ or bullying, and had created an in-depth mental plan to prepare himself; after all, he was allowed to use magic here, and his skills were far superior to Dudley’s, who had only learned the basics so far. 

Ron had stayed awake as well, waiting to see if he’d need to back up his best friend. Harry hadn’t asked him to, but Ron had a vague idea of what happened within the Dursley’s home every summer, and wasn’t about to let the portly boy get the drop on the smaller boy. Both he and Harry had finally fallen asleep somewhere near dawn, which meant that they were in for a miserable, exhausted first day of classes. 

To top it off, the dorm had been awoken terribly early by Dudley panicking. 

It would have been funny if Harry hadn’t been so tired. 

“That - that thing! It’s going to kill me!” Dudley shrieked, pushing himself as close to the head of the bed as he could, “Someone help me!”

Harry had opened his eyes by the hardest at the commotion, spotting the house elf that Dudley seemed to be worrying over. “Shut up, Dudley - it’s just a house elf. It’s not going to hurt you.” 

“But it - it was looking at me. I think it was going to try to, ya’know, touch me or something.” 

The house elf apparently got the gist of what Dudley was implying, because it immediately started to bang its head against the wall, wailing that it would never do such a thing and how awful it must be for Dudley to think such a terrible thought of it. 

That was enough to wake up the entire dorm, and it took Neville, Harry and Dean to calm down the elf enough for it to continue whatever task it had been working on when Dudley had spotted it. Harry had been surprised - he didn’t realize the elves were sometimes in the room while they slept, though he wasn’t nearly as creeped out by the idea as his cousin was. 

The disruption resulted in all six Gryffindor boys arriving at breakfast earlier, and with a more sour disposition than usual.

Dudley had trudged behind the other boys, seemingly put out that he was not able to lie in after such an eventual awakening, but also aware that if he didn’t follow the group to the Great Hall, he may never find it in time to eat. By the time he finally decided to sit down across from Ron and Harry, the other two had already started to serve themselves. 

Ron scowled as Dudley appeared, and many years of schooling his features for his relatives was the only thing keeping Harry from doing the same. Both boys watched in disgust as Dudley loaded up his plate and then started eating with gusto, bits of food falling into his clothing and table as he heartily dug in. 

Harry made a face, pushing his plate away as his own meager appetite turned off at the sight; after being served such tiny portions at the Dursleys throughout the summers, he often started the term with a poor appetite that slowly improved. 

“Are you even chewing it along the way?” Ron asked with disdain, which was really remarkable as it was Ron, of all people, criticizing how Dudley was inhaling his food. Like Harry, Ron pushed his plate back, appetite vanished. Seeing his mates looking towards him with surprised expressions, he rolled his eyes and added, “Stop taking the piss, yeah?”

“Is it really you, mate?” Seamus teased, reaching out to touch Ron’s forehead, “Are you ill?” 

“Shut up.” Ron grumbled good-naturedly at the ribbing by his friends, “I’ve got to draw the line somewhere, no?”

“What are you on about?” Dudley asked, mouth full and oblivious to what was happening around him. 

Harry shook his head dismissively, yawning once more. He was so incredibly tired, and he knew it would just get worse as the day progressed. What an awful way to begin the school year. 

He must have dozed off for a moment, because the next thing he knew the table was bustling with more students, and Hermione’s voice could be heard talking about timetables and scolding Seamus for losing them points on the very first night. 

“She took points, too?” Dean groused, “Giving out detention wasn’t enough?”

“She needs a good cheering charm to start the year off.” Seamus agreed, and Harry didn’t have to be looking to feel the glare the boys were sending towards their head of house. 

Hermione reached across Ron to hand a bleary-eyed Harry a piece of parchment, “Busy schedule today, boys, try to act alive.”

“Stop channeling my Mum, Hermione, it’s disturbing.” Ron mumbled, and Harry noticed he’d returned to eating his eggs and potatoes while he’d been dozing. 

“Potions first thing? What did we do to deserve that sort of punishment?” 

“Honestly, Harry, none of our classes are meant to be punishment.” Hermione scoffed, “And at least you get a free period this afternoon; some of us have classes all day long.”

“Your schedule is different than ours?” Ron asked, snatching Hermione’s timetable and looking over it with a frown, “You need to talk to McGonagall, yours isn’t right - look, you have classes that overlap.”

Ron handed the paper to Harry, who looked at the schedule with wide eyes, “Merlin’s beard! How many classes are you taking, ‘Mione?” 

“A fair bit, obviously.” Hermione retorted, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice as Harry forced himself to move from his position draped over the table to sitting in correct form, “Did you boys get dressed in the dark this morning?” 

A flick of the wand, and both Harry and Ron’s shirts were tucked in and their ties straightened. She looked at the two approvingly, then continued, “Honestly, it’s not a hard spell - if you aren’t going to do it the proper way, at least learn the spell. No one will ever take you seriously if you look like you rolled out of bed just before going to class.”

“No one will think we’ve just rolled from bed.” Ron countered, motioning towards the staff table, “They all saw us here at breakfast, clearly not in bed.” 

“Your friend is really bossy.” Dudley piped up, finally finished with his breakfast and watching the exchange opposite him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. 

The look Ron shot Dudley was venomous and he replied icily, “Don’t talk about Hermione like that. Don’t talk about Hermione at all.”  Ron pushed away from the table, nodding to the doors, “Come on Harry, Hermione - let’s head to class. If this lug gets lost on the way to the dungeons, better for all of us anyway.” 

Ron stormed off in a huff, clearly offended on Hermione’s behalf, and the two hurried to catch up. Harry was confused at Ron’s hostility; they called Hermione bossy all the time both to her face and in conversation alone and had been for years now. 

“I wish you wouldn’t storm off like that, I was still eating you know.” Hermione chided lightly as they walked to the dungeons. They were incredibly early for class, but at least they were alone.

“Sorry, Hermione.” Ron’s cheeks were lightly pink with embarrassment over his outburst and being called out for it. “I just didn’t want to get into it with him again.” 

“Understandable.” Hermione conceded, “So was it that terrible having him in your dorm? Is that why you guys are all moody today? Oh my goodness, Harry, what happened to your lip?”

Harry brought a hand to gently touch his split lip, cringing slightly as the contact stung, “Dudley happened. He is that terrible.”

“He hit you?!” Hermione gasped, “Did you tell Professor McGonagall? Is that why she was up in your dormitory last night?” 

“No, I didn’t grass on him.” Harry sighed, “It doesn’t matter, anyway. This is just what Dudley does.”

“It does matter.” Hermione insisted, “Look, Harry, you may not be able to do anything about it when he’s bullying you at your aunt and uncle’s house, but you can do something about it here.”

“So the whole school can gossip about how I went crying to teachers about how mean Dudley was to me? No thanks.” 

“Someone’s going to notice your face and ask questions. What are you going to do then? Lie about it?” Hermione continued, “If you don’t stand up to him, he’ll never stop. That’s how bullies operate.” 

“Standing up to him does no good, Hermione. Just leave it.” Harry firmly told his friend, “Please, Hermione, just drop it.”

“I’ll let it go for now, but if he continues to use you as his punching bag, I’m going to turn him in.” Hermione replied, equally firm in her tone. There was no doubt that she meant every word of it. 

They sat in the hallway in silence, not needing to fill the time with words, and slowly other students began to trickle in. 

Nearly all of the third year Gryffindors and Slytherins had appeared when Ron swore quietly, whispering to his friends, “I forgot my essay in the dorms. Snape’s going to kill me.” 

“Let’s go get it, then.” Harry replied, standing and brushing the dirt from his robes, “Quickly, before Snape shows up.” 

“You don’t have time.” Hermione interjected, just as Ron spoke, “I don’t think we have time, mate.” 

Casting a quick glance at his watch, Harry realized they likely did not have time. Still, better to lose a few points for tardiness than to start the year off with a failing grade and be ridiculed in front of the class, right? He nodded his head towards the stairwell, “We’ll have time if we run. Let’s go. Hermione, save us a seat, yeah?”

Before Hermione could agree or warn them to stay, the boys had taken off at a run down the hallway, nearly bowling over Parkinson and Greengrass in their attempt to break speed records and making it back to class on time. 

“Watch it, Potter!” Parkinson snapped, reaching over to push Greengrass’s wand down when she pointed it at the two retreating boys, “Not with witnesses, Daphne.”

They made it to Gryffindor Tower quicker than expected, and both boys panted heavily, trying to catch their breath enough to spit out the password. After a few moments, Harry gasped, “Fortuna...Major…” and the portrait door opened. 

Exhausted from their trek across the castle and their sleepless night, they ascended the corridor to the dorms a bit slower than they had been running, and Ron began to rummage through his trunk, finally pulling out a crumpled parchment, “Got it!”

Harry had used the time he had while waiting to charm the screws on Dudley’s bed loose so it would collapse when he sat upon it later. 

Ron looked at the time in dismay, “Mate, we’ve got three minutes before class begins. Snape’s going to kill us.” 

“Race you!” Harry called, taking off quickly and throwing his friend a grin over his shoulder as the two barrelled out of the dorm and back towards the exit. 

They’d made it halfway down the corridor when they ran, quite literally, into the new Defence professor. Both boys and Professor Lupin both tumbled to the ground, and Harry and Ron looked at each other in dismay; there was no way they’d ever get to class on time now. 

“In quite the hurry, boys.” Lupin said good naturedly, standing and holding a hand out to Harry to pull him to his feet, then Ron, “If I remember correctly, you’re meant to be in potions now, yeah?” 

“Ron forgot his essay, we were just going back for it. Sorry, we didn’t mean to run into you, we were just trying to get to class before Snape decided to take all of our points for the next month.” Harry apologized, “Are you alright, sir?”

Lupin waved off Harry’s concern, “No worries, I can understand not wanting to be on Professor Snape’s bad side.” He emphasized the word Professor as a correction, and Harry was pleased that it was done nicely and not as an admonishment like he so often heard from others. 

“It doesn’t matter now, though.” Ron said as the clock chimed, “We’re late and he’s going to chop us up for potions ingredients.” 

“I’m fairly certain that pickling students is still against the school’s charter.” Lupin replied lightly, “I can write you two a note to let Severus know you were with me and we lost track of time. That should smooth the situation over so you can start the academic year off on a good foot.”

“You’d do that for us?” Harry asked, surprised and pleased, “Thank you, sir.” 

“Yeah, thanks!” Ron chimed in, relief washing over his features, “You’re the best.” 

Lupin handed them a slip of paper, then smiled and patted the two on the back as he nudged them towards the stairs, “I’d best be getting to my class, as well. You two slow down and be safe; I’d hate to hear that you were running down the stairs and fell through a trick stair to your death.”

“I bet Snape would love that, though.” Harry muttered to Ron as they descended the staircase. 

They made it to the potions classroom less than five minutes after class had started, note in hand, but Snape did not seem to care at all that they’d been with another professor. 

“Did you forget the layout of the castle and get lost?” Snape sneered as they opened the door, “It’s quite hard to lose the dungeons, you simply go down as far as you can go.” 

“We were speaking with Professor Lupin.” Harry replied, holding out the excuse for Snape to take, “Sorry we’re late, sir.”

“I find that incredibly hard to believe, since Miss Parkinson and Miss Greengrass claim that you left the dungeons right before class began. What? Did you get caught trying to skive off and then con a professor into giving you a note?”

“No, not at all. I forgot my essay, and we ran into Lupin--”

“Spare me your excuses, Weasley.” Snape took the essay from Ron, then laid it on a workbench in front of the class and pointed his wand at it, “Incendio.”

“What!? No!” Ron protested, though it was too late as the parchment lit and quickly burned, “My essay…” 

“Your essay, Mr. Weasley, was late. Late work is an automatic zero. For your tardiness, I believe twenty points each from Gryffindor will do.”

The boys looked like they wanted to protest, but thought better of it and moved to an empty workbench, shoulders sagging heavily. Both flinched when Snape added icily, “And detention, 7:00.” 

“Evil git.” Ron muttered as they took out their supplies, “We had a note and everything!”

“Silence!” Snape demanded, “Before we were so rudely interrupted, we were discussing our potion for the day. Can anyone tell me why we add lavender oil before crushed fly larvae?” 

Hermione’s hand shot into the air, but as usual, Snape ignored her and instead called on Malfoy, who did not have his hand raised but clearly knew the answer judging by his arrogant, bored expression. 

As Snape continued the lecture, Ron began to complain quietly again, “And burning my homework like that...I worked on that all summer!”

At Harry’s incredulous look, Ron shrugged and amended, “Okay, like two hours, but still…”

“If it weren’t for being late, he’d just find some other reason. He hates me, and he hates you for being associated with me.” Harry replied quietly, trying to find the potion recipe in his book, “Do you know what page we’re on?”

“SILENCE!” Snape bellowed, approaching the boys with a furious gleam in his eyes, “Since Potter and Weasley think they’re too good for instruction and would rather socialize than pay attention, I believe we will use their potion for an example today. Once everyone is finished with that potions, we will allow one of them to sample theirs to test for efficiency.”

“But sir, I was just asking what page number--”

“When I want a verbal response, I will let you know,” Snape spat out, “Even someone as thick as you are can understand what the word ‘silence’ means, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but at Snape’s glare he shut it again, frowning deeply. This class was going terribly, even by Potions-class-standards.

“Sir, isn’t this potion lethal if brewed incorrectly?” Nott asked with a smug grin, glancing towards the two troublesome Gryffindors with amusement. 

“Indeed.”

“You can’t make students try potentially lethal potions.” Dudley spoke up from beside Neville. 

Snape raised an eyebrow, then added as an afterthought, “In an effort to be fair, I will also have Longbottom and Dursley test their potion. Your homework will be to compare and contrast the two attempts and the effects of incompetence in brewing this particular potion. You may begin.” 

Harry and Ron looked at each other in horror. They had no idea what potion they were even supposed to be making, much less which ingredients they’d need and where to even begin. Snape was glaring at them, as if daring them to ask someone so he could take more points and assign more detentions to the pair. 

“Come on, mate, let’s just get what everyone else is and see if we can’t figure out what we’re supposed to be doing based off of the ingredients.” Harry told Ron, filing in line behind Crabbe and Goyle. 

“It’s better than nothing, I suppose.” Ron agreed, trying to glimpse at page numbers on the other students’ books as he walked by, with little success. 

They were pleased to see their books were opened to the right page when they returned to their work station, and Harry grinned at Hermione, who had turned and winked at them. He would need to do something to show his appreciation to her; at least they had a chance now that they knew what they were brewing. 

A very, very small chance. 

“This looks really complex.” Ron complained, looking through the steps involved, “There’s three pages of instructions.” 

“Three pages?” Harry asked incredulously, flipping through his own book, “Oh Merlin, there’s no way we’ll make it through a potion this complex without mucking it up.” 

“We’re pants at potions.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” 

“Less talking, more brewing.” Snape said pointedly from the other side of the classroom. 

Forty minutes later, Ron and Harry were bottling what they could only hope was a correct potion. 

“It was nice knowing you, you’ve been a true friend.” Ron murmured, looking at their pathetic attempt at brewing and remembering what Nott said about a botched potion being lethal. 

Harry looked as grim as Ron sounded. A glance around the room showed that theirs was the only potion that was grey, everyone else’s was blue or green. Even Neville and Dudley’s potion resembled the rest of the class’s, though Harry wasn’t convinced that it was done correctly either knowing Neville’s history with potions and Dudley’s incompetence in general. 

“Maybe we ‘accidentally’ drop the vial on our way to turn it in? I’d rather a zero than death.” Harry suggested, vanishing the remainder of their potion just in case they decided to sabotage their grade, so Snape couldn’t simply instruct them to get another vial.

“He’ll never buy it, mate.”

“But can he prove we did it on purpose?”

“The youngest seeker in a century, clumsy? He won’t buy it.”

“Then you drop it.”

Ron’s response was cut off by Snape’s voice, “It looks as if our test subject is finished with their potion. Come forward Weasley, Potter.” 

“Do it.” Harry hissed as they hesitantly made their way to the front of the room. 

As they crossed the room, Ron let the vial slip out of his hand, but before it could hit the floor and crack, a hand reached out to catch it. Dudley. 

“Careful, Weasley.” Dudley said quietly, refusing to meet Harry or Ron’s gaze. It was hard for either boy to determine if Dudley was being genuinely nice or if he just wanted to see them tormented by Snape in front of everyone. 

Snape’s grin sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. He knew the potion was crap, and he knew Snape knew it, too. Was he really going to make them sample it? 

The professor took an empty vial and poured half of the boys’ work into it, then handed them each their sample, “Go ahead, drink up.” He turned his attention to the rest of the class, “Class, take notes for your homework.”

Green eyes met blue and the two friends nodded and tipped the vials back, hoping for the best but bracing themselves for the worst.