Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Professor Sprout?” Hadrian asked, opening the door to the herbology professor's office. “You asked me to see you?”

The older woman was seated on her chair, a soft-looking but ornate thing, while a soft classical tune played in her office.

The chair was made of dark brown leather and had a colourful patchwork quilt resting on its head rest, and the music came from a black radio, very muggle in appearance, but a bit outdated, maybe from around the forties. Sprout looked up as he called, smiling kindly at him, her face full of laughing lines.

“Oh, yes! Mister Evans, please, do come in. Close the door behind you, dearie.” The professor said as she waved her wand to make the scattered paper go to their places, freeing the table for the conversation. 

“I’ll ask the house-elves to bring us some tea. I’m afraid this will be quite a long conversation. Please, make yourself comfortable while we wait, Mister Evans.” She turned around, probably to speak to the elf responsible for her chambers, giving Hadrian the opportunity to look around her office.

In his first life, Hadrian had rarely entered a teacher's office that wasn’t Snape’s or McGonagall’s. On the other hand, he was almost fixed furniture in the headmaster’s from fourth year forward. He was pretty sure he never even knew where Sprout’s office was located before today. 

The room was comfortable and homey, almost like it was an extension of Hufflepuff’s common room, located underground but in the direction of the greenhouses instead of the kitchens. She had a couple of bookshelves to the side and many mismatched chairs and cushions, all very soft and well cared for. The walls were decorated with magical paintings, not of people, but of landscapes and nature, from varied places around the world with the most diverse colours. It was a charming place.

What captured his attention the most, however, was the unbelievable collection of plants. Everywhere, the whole room was alight with the most varied types of species in various shades. If he hadn’t been so sure of his head of house love and pride for Hufflepuff, he would’ve guessed she was a Slytherin. The sheer amount of green in the room could only belong in their common room. It represented very well her love for herbology —and made the room comfortably chilly and calming as well.

He looked around and decided to sit in the most comfortable looking chair in front of Sprout’s table, one with blue cushions and yellow armrests. He had a vague idea about the topic of today’s conversation, especially after what happened during Tuesday's Defence class. The entire school was talking about how his fear was his bleeding mother cussing and striking him out of the family, or something along those lines. It surely helped the rumours he was a runaway or other thing like that.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t what the fear represented, but he was sure the rumours must have worried the kind teacher enough to make her want to talk to him.

The Hufflepuff house’s gossip reunion was set to happen every Sunday, so Hadrian hadn’t had the opportunity to see what his house-mates had spread yet. But the situation was terrible for the badger’s gossip mill. It had been a class joined by all houses, so all kinds of speculation and rumours were already in motion even before the class ended. They would have a lot of work to do, if they decided to go for basic damage control.

“Here, dear.” With both their cups in hand, Sprout seemed to gather herself to tackle the issue. “Please, feel welcome to add sugar and milk, if you'd like to.” Hadrian felt brave enough to add two sugars before he faced the music.

“So, why did you call me here, professor?” Hadrian asked, already dreading the conversation. Sprout grimace was enough to know his dread was apparent in his voice and probably in his face, too —and that she mirrored it, to some degree.

“I know you must suspect it, and we will surely talk about your boggart later.” She said sternly, Hadrian sighed in his head, his hopes of avoiding the topic crushed. She softened a bit at his lack of protest, her face more natural. “However, I had already wanted to meet you today so we could talk about how you are adjusting to Hogwarts. It can be a hard change to the younger students, I can’t imagine how you are feeling as you are older. But I’m an eager ear, if you wish to talk about your thoughts during this first weeks.”

That stunned Hadrian a bit. He wasn’t used to professors being actually present, or inviting him for a normal talk. Minnie —bless her heart— had only done so after the Fall happened and they were forced in close proximity by all the people seeking refuge in Hogwarts. During his Hogwarts years, it was rare she would have the time to listen to her students' plights, most often turning Hadrian and his friends away before even trying to hear them, much less to calm them down.

He didn’t know how to react to a teacher honestly worried about him, the only one to do so before was Lupin, and even then, it was due to his familial relationship with the Potters. Hadrian and Remus’ first contact in the other universe came more from a place of desperation from Hadrian’s part, and guilt from Remus, rather than rooted in his position as a teacher and desire to help.

Hadrian was sure that if anyone else had asked for the Patronus Lessons during their third year they would have been turned away. Remus was a fair teacher, but the fact he knew Hadrian parents helped him gather a lot of favour during his term as a DADA professor. Besides, by the time Remus died, the man became more of a friend rather than a teacher or an uncle so any help given was clearly from their relationship and not duty.

Moreover, by the time Hadrian came back to Hogwarts for protection during the Fall, Pomona had already died, so Hadrian had no experiences with her as an adult to understand what she was playing at. He decided to answer at least a bit honestly at first. Until now, it had been the best policy while dealing with the nagging Hufflepuffs from his year, he hoped it held true to all ages.

“I’m adjusting well, I believe.” He said, as he sipped his tea to consider his next words. The tea was delicious. “My housemates and colleagues are very patient with me and my habit of getting lost in the corridors. Most of the third years have taken to either accompany me to the classes, or give me the right directions before I decide to explore. I have managed to make some friends in upper and lower years, and in other houses too. I can admit the curriculum is a bit different from what I expected, but nothing seems particularly hard, currently.” Hadrian said, as sincere as he could. Of course, he could elaborate more on it all, but he felt this was what he could tell his head of house without getting too personal (or mentioning time travel).

“That is great to hear!” Professor Sprout smiled gently as she offered him a jar of biscuits, taking one of them for herself. He accepted one. “I was worried that there would be a bit of a problem with your socialization. By third year most friend groups are already formed, after all, so I’m very pleased with your developing friendships!”  

“Thank you, professor.” Hadrian said genuinely, it seemed that Sprout was relieved with what he said, and it seemed genuine. She really cared for her students and wished the best for them, both in their careers, academically and socially. It was a novel after most of his education consisting of faulty teachers and a horrible curriculum. Only Moody, Remus, and Snape were somewhat adequate teachers for Defence, as an example. The bar was almost buried six feet under.

Even then, Moody was a polyjuiced Death Eater that tried to kill him. Remus was a werewolf that tried to kill him during a full moon because he forgot to take his potion, and Snape was just terrible with people from the ages zero and above. He also hated Hadrian’s guts. Sure, the man was the only professor for Defence that didn’t attempt to kill him, but not because of a lack of wanting. Otherwise, Hadrian was pretty sure that by the end of his second class in the first year, he would already be admitted to Saint Mungus with either a case of lethal poisoning or dark curses. 

“Now onto the next topic. How do you find your classes? Any that you might think you would prefer not to continue next term?” Sprout said, breaking Hadrian from his thoughts. She waved her wand and pieces of parchments came flying to her, along with a long black quill. From the side of the table a pair of reading glasses appeared, she rested them on the tip of her nose. 

“You are taking five classes, the limit of acceptable courses, at this moment. As you had only sent requests for Divination, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, the Headmaster and I thought it would be wise to add you to Muggles Studies and Wixen Culture. Even with your travels, we don’t know how much knowledge you have in either area and how much they changed from your experiences in other countries. What do you think of them?”

“Oh, well.” Hadrian said, scratching his chin and suddenly missing the slight beard he had managed to grow at twenty-five. (If you could call that stubble a beard. Ron certainly hadn’t while they had been alive.) “I don’t think I should make any decisions at this moment. All my classes are interesting enough and the work is engaging. I’ll get back to you before the Christmas holidays, Professor, if I decide to change anything for the next term.”

“Wonderful!” She said, scribbling something in one of the pages, before putting everything aside and taking off her glasses. “And I’m sorry to have to breach this topic, dear, but would you mind explaining to me what happened during the practical defence class on boggarts? I’ve heard Professor Lupin’s perspective, and plenty of rumours have been spreading. I would like to hear what happened from you too.” Sprout said, taking back her teapot and calmly sipping on it, waiting for Hadrian to talk.

“Oh, sure…” Hadrian started, hesitantly. While honesty would be the best bet, he couldn’t completely tell the truth. (Time travel, being twice orphaned, not really understanding or connecting his memories to his reality, the entirely new reality, the fear of a new war and the chronic fear of disappointing the world? Yeah, he had a room in a muggle psychiatry ward with his name on it if he told her that.) He had to let her understand his fear wasn’t something that could really happen, but that it had its justifications for paralysing him.  

“At first, I didn’t know what it would be. I don’t have anything I particularly fear, just general ones or ones that would be difficult for a boggart to use, normally.” Like the sudden collapse of magic. He paused a bit, wondering if he should play the naive, innocent clueless boy, or tell the truth of what he understood from his fear, and how it could have been much worse. He decided on a compromise.

 “The boggart decided to use my guilt, I believe. And the death of my parents…”  The boggart had been clever in a way he usually didn’t see coming from them. That could be because of how weakened most creatures became after the Fall, or how his endurance to them had evolved. The magical creatures similar to boggarts that didn’t flat out die became weaker and dull, often hunting in groups, assuring they would get a target at least by number, not by skill. That way, the victim had to really understand their fear to cast Riddikulus on multiple targets in hope to escape from the boggarts without lasting effects.

What surprised Hadrian the most in the situation, if he's being honest, was to see his mother again.

He knew he had met his mother before. Better yet, Hadrian Evans had had the opportunity to live with both his parents for around 12 years, after all. But this merged mass between Harry Potter and Hadrian Evans was, consciously, seeing his mother alive for the first time. It wasn’t like the Mirror of Erised, or even the Resurrection Stone. She seemed real, alive, with a soul. That’s the terrifying thing about boggarts: they excel at mimicry.

He had been shocked, all the memories of Rose Evans to the front of his mind, enough that for a moment, he really understood himself as fully Hadrian Evans. He had been worried that it would be a different sentiment that Hadrian Evans he is now was intrinsically different from Harry Potter he was once. That it was just a strange mirror of his family, something to mock the things he loved.

But seeing his mother, it didn’t feel like he was looking at a female version of James Potter, for once. He had thought when he first received the letter with all his information that they would be a mockery of the Potters, some form of torment. But she was someone that could’ve been a parent to him as much as Lily and James could’ve been. The same yearning, the wishes for more time, the unconditional love. All of that he remembered. 

It was a could’ve still because in the end, he had no experience having parents, even if the memories he hijacked had those.

In a way, he was right, it was also like he was looking in a mirror. But it was his face reflected in it. He could see his smile on her face, his squared shoulders, his thick eyebrows, his eye bags, his dark messy hair. All things he knew he could relate with his father in his other life but slightly different and fitting to this mother. It made him wonder if he could see what Julian looked like when he was alive, see if they had the same eyes, the same nose, the same temper. If in the end Julian seemed like Lily or it was as different as James and Rose were.

 And behind all that wonder and hope and yearning, the fears the boggart portrayed were very real ones that Hadrian has been trying to go through and rationalize ever since arriving on this dimension.

The boggart had feasted in Hadrian's open guilt and worry that this dimension would turn out the same as his home one. Become a shell, empty of its magic, of its life. Dead. That in the end it would fail them all. More even, that he would fail, unable to confirm if his knowledge of the past would transfer, doing nothing but living comfortably at Hogwarts, instead of making his moves to prevent war and death. He feared he was an egoistic, ungrateful and selfish boy, for he was no man, not any more. One could say he had never become one.

It’s not that he feared death, he knew it was a part of life and had never actually feared it. But he didn’t want the utter destruction and despair his universe had been subjected to happen again in this one. That simple.

But regardless of what he thought, he remembered the promise and the prize he received after he died. This would be a universe not plagued with the fall of magic, he didn’t need to worry about things out of his control. He could do his part and live his life.

After all, in this universe, if he wished he wouldn’t need to carry the burden of the Boy-Who-Lived. He could do his very best to help Neville make things right, to change things for the better and help the Wizarding World heal from its cracks. But it wasn’t his fated obligation any more. He wasn’t the main piece of this cosmic chess. He was a bystander, a casualty.

He was safe in this universe. Safe to make friends, safe to actually study at Hogwarts, to play quidditch if he wished, to cause trouble and go on dates, openly visit Hogsmeade, get lost in the castle as he explored it. He was free, he had a choice, and that was something he rarely had. The prophecy wasn’t about him, the Azkaban escapee wasn’t coming for him. Everything was different, even with its similarities. He could choose to play his part in the collective effort, fuck off to Majorca, or even just live normally until he died of old age, there were endless possibilities.

(He knew, deep inside himself, that this was no gift. Oh, definitely the beings thought they were being benevolent and kind to Hadrian: with their all encompassing wisdom they gave him the possibility to right his wrongs, but Harry had wanted more than anything to just exist, to be able to die knowing he did his duty and now he was no more. 

Of course that wasn’t possible, so now he was stranded in a different dimension, with different people parading in his friends and family faces, living thoroughly different lives, in a body so different he didn’t feel like himself.

He was a walking and talking horror, unrecognizable even to himself, even if he had all the memories that made Hadrian Evans, Hadrian Evans; all the memories that made Harry Potter, Harry Potter. He was neither, and both at the same time. He was the intersection between those two people, but also the void neither occupied. It would leave him drifting, if he thought too much about it. 

This was no gift, this was a punishment for doing a good job. But Harry Hadrian had been nothing but a good soldier. One who wouldn’t occupy himself wondering about these abnormal beings who had immeasurable power and absolute control over reality. He would live, to the best of his ability, and ignore whatever mindfuckery these deities wanted to start with him.)

So yes, the Boggart might not have turned in the dead bodies of his friends, or the countless corpses rotting in the places where magic became non-existent. Or the ecosystem that started taking magic from the living beings in there to survive, bringing immense pain to all in the area. Not even the war zones where magic, muggle, and everything in between fought desperately for the right to exist, but it still was a reflection of this new fear. 

(He hasn't slept well for the last four days since the class happened, but he knew he would process it eventually. It was just a fear, it wasn’t going to happen, he wouldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t control it for now, so he wouldn’t think about it until he had the means for it. But there has to be something to prevent it for happening. Even if he had the promise of peace from the immortals, he wanted all the reassurance he could get.)

He blinked. Hadrian had been in his head for too long. “The guilt and fear from the situation was mostly what motivated the boggart. It knows that I fear that someday it will happen again, and I will fail to defend that family from another attack.” Pomona’s eyes were clouded, her expression filled with sorrow and understanding. The typical face of those who lost wars. Not from being on the loser side, but from the collateral damage to friends and family.

“Besides all that, I’m well, professor.” Hadrian said, looking in her eyes. Her honeyed eyes were calming and soft. “I know what it meant, and I know it wasn’t real. My mother would never say those things to me, and I’m sure she will never wake up again. And I’m alright with that, it’s part of life.” Because that’s what death was to him. A crucial part of the circle of life he would never get to experience.

(It was strange how he greeted her with open arms every time they encountered each other. She was the one who might have been his oldest friend. The one who had chosen and claimed him as a baby, and over and over again as he grew. And yet, he would never get to experience it fully. Death would always be unattainable to Hadrian.)

“That certainly calms my heart… Thank you for taking a moment of your time to talk to me today, Hadrian. Is there anything else you wish to tell me?” The woman said, her eyes kind and the posture relaxed. The feeling in her office alone was enough to calm Hadrian nerves during this conversation and wrap it neatly, but he knew as soon as he stepped out of the office everything would be a bit different. He wouldn’t be just the weird new kid, but the weird new kid with the weird fear and the weird mum.

“No, ma’am. Nothing.”

(There was so much more. So much more he feared. So much more he willed himself to not understand about his fear, about the boggart, about the time travel. About whom and what he was.)

He smiled softly at her. She smiled back.

“Then, thank you for coming and being so open to me, darling.” Sprout said, getting out of her chair, Hadrian followed her to the door leading him back to the corridor. “If you ever need anything else, you can come to my office. I’ll do my best to assist you. Now please, do enjoy your weekend and don’t forget to have lunch!”

“Alright. Bye, professor! Thank you for the talk!” Hadrian said, getting out of Professor Sprout’s office both strangely lighter and heavier than before he entered it.

By now, Hadrian could say he was having a good day despite the heavy conversation with his head of house in the morning. After it happened, he had a great lunch at the Hufflepuff table with his yearmates, he had arrived late after getting lost for half an hour around the West wing, but Justin saved a place and treacle tart for him. It was common to see Hadrian rushing during meals, be it because he was late or he planned to explore more of the castle, even during the weekends he was often seen wandering around the castle learning all of its nooks and crannies.

Some people still looked at him weirdly due to his roaming habits, but Hadrian couldn’t care less.

 After lunch, he ran to his room and to finally see if the broom he had in his trunk would be what he was thinking it was. Excitedly, he went inside the expanded spaces, searching for the broomstick. Finally, he grabbed the beauty of a broom with an enormous smile on his face. 

It wasn’t a Firebolt, now that he was looking at it —it was similar, for sure, but it wasn’t one. Firebolts were something of a luxury racing broom, too many goblin rebellions and too little goblin iron to go into it resulted on the rare production of them until the Fall, maybe a hundred total. It was almost a miracle that Sirius had managed to buy one for Hadrian while he was a fugitive back in his first time in third year.

It was a different type of broom, sure, the handle of the broom was the same style, and the feet rest were also quite ergonomic like the Firebolt, maybe even more so. The broom head, however, was different, instead of the dark brown bristles it had in his first life, the whole broom was dark black, with only the metal bits giving it a metallic colour. Well, not only them.

On the bristles, Hadrian inspected, were a lot of “trinkets”: colourful feathers, braided strings, and the broom was notably used and well-loved, even if it was in perfect state. The handle was a bit worn, but it was enveloped in enchanted leather, leaving only one space free for the inscription. Astrape VIII. He had never heard of that broom brand before, but it seemed pretty sweet. 

He was a bit sad he didn't have his Thunderbolt, or even his Nimbus 2001—deceased as it had been for years now, it had the honour of being his first broom, after all—, but he was happy to put the new broom to test. Hadrian found the shrinking rune on the broom's handle before he stuck it inside his bottomless messenger bag and went out to find his way to the Quidditch pitch. 

“Yo, Evans! Where are you going?” Someone called, he turned around to see some of his year mates together, along with one or two upper-years. Wayne Hopkins, the one who called for Hadrian, continued talking. “I would rather not run around the castle searching for you on my weekend.” The boy teased Hadrian, who smiled back at the group.

“No worries! I’m finding the way to the Quidditch pitch, if I’m not back by Sunday supper, you can search for me on Monday and use me as an excuse to miss Double Potions.” The boys laughed when Hadrian left the common room.

As he walked, he really tried to understand what were the differences between his Hogwarts and this one, it just seemed like this Hogwarts was even bigger than the one he lived in. Not that he was bothered to explore it all again when out of classes, some of his friends had already noticed how little time he actually spent in his common room; it was mostly due to his dislike of being underground, and the Hufflepuff’s den was mostly in it. Even if it was very comfortable and well lit.

He would be biased in favour of his first life and say he preferred the tall towers of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. It begged the question on why some houses were given towers, and others the dungeons when the castle was so big and had so many towers… Something to think about later, when he wasn’t busy mapping the whole school on the way to the quidditch pitch.

God, what I wouldn’t give to have the Marauders Map with me here.

Some things, he had noticed later in the first week, hadn’t come back with him. The map, his wand (the normal one he had got after the war, not the phoenix core one, this one was different and he assumed that for now he was using the elder wand but adjusted or something), his broom and a couple of other things as well. It made him question why; he knows that some of the Potter Heirlooms he took out of his vault came with him, even if the fortune in it didn’t. So what was the difference between the items? He wanted to investigate, catalogue all of them and see if there were any changes, but it wasn’t something he would focus on now.

Presently, he only wanted to find out where the bloody Quidditch pitch was and have fun flying around!

Orion was bored. 

He had been hauled off his peaceful late lunchtime by a trouble seeker Harry Potter before he could finish eating. Typically, when Orion was alone, he would prefer to either eat later or earlier than everyone else in his house. This way, there was less of a chance of getting attacked mid-bite by some bigot or other tactics of mealtime warfare the Gryffindor table liked to use on him. Of course, all of that was for naught when he saw Harry Potter coming his way with a creepy smile on his face when he was barely midway through his meal.

His dreadful not-cousin was, of course, accompanied by his lackeys: Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan and Cormac McLaggen. He hadn’t had a choice but to follow them and act as their guard dog: warn if anyone came their way to stop their prank, distract any curious students, and/or intimidate with his glare and general presence. 

He, of course, wasn’t included in the prank planning, making, or the prank itself. Not only that, but he was just to stay there and alert them in case someone passed by: all work, no benefits. Orion was already used to this song and dance by now, so he hadn’t hesitated to sit on the ground and drape himself against the wall with the map hidden by a book on his lap.

Not that he would want to be included, anyway. Sure, he could appreciate a prank or two—he was his fathers’ son after all—, but he would prefer not to interact with Harry if he had the chance to choose so. Until now, the new term had been exactly as he expected and he had been able to avoid his cousin for the most part: Aunt Lily’s classes were spectacular, his father’s lessons were fun and informative —specially comparing to their past teachers—, Severus was still as hard as ever as a teacher, and Icarus and Iris were by far the better Potter children.

He knew he’d be bored, and he was right.

However, Orion was more bothered by Harry's stunt than usual this time; he had planned to spend the rest of the day in the library, searching for names for the feline friend who visited him back in August. He hadn’t seen the big cat since that day, but he could feel in his bones that it was not the last time he would see the animal, so he wanted to be prepared for their next meeting. He had promised the creature a name, and it would have a great one for it!

For now, he had a very short list of star names he wanted to try out (sue him, but he was very fond of the star tradition in his family) but he wasn’t all that sure of them. Orion had wanted to search a couple of books on name meanings and some astronomy charts while he was at it to see if it would bring him some inspiration for the name of his new friend.

Of course, his dear cousin had to ruin it for him. He just hoped he wouldn’t be meeting the big cat anytime soon.

He sighed and adjusted himself against the wall in a more comfortable position, but before Orion could really focus on the book he would be reading for the next hour, he heard steps coming his way. Orion rolled his eyes, frustrated, everyone was bothering him today. He took a deep breath, sniffing the air to try to discern the scent before the person got near, only to become more confused. 

The person’s scent was new, strange in a way he hadn’t felt before in Hogwarts, but it was almost familiar, like he had encountered multiple times before. Mostly, it smelled wild. Like the feeling he had when he ran at full speed in the forest behind home; or when he and his dads decided to roughhouse, both in animal and human forms; or even the rare times Uncle James and Aunt Lily decided to join them in a full moon. The moment before a lightning strike during the rainy season. The feeling you have that is going to rain hard soon. Wild, unpredictable, but familiar at the same time.

He tensed up, ready to intercept and intimidate whoever came this way. He didn’t know who it was, but it didn’t matter. Orion settled for the blank expression he wore most times, the icy eyes he knew most people found it unnerving, and that was what he was going for. From the corridor on the left, came a boy Orion wasn’t sure he had seen before at all, a relatively small Hufflepuff with shoulder-length black hair tied in a ponytail.

He had no recollection of the student, until their eyes met. The green seemed electric, like live wire or ozone. It seemed to drawn Orion’s gaze like a magnetic field. Yeah, he knew who was that. It was the transfer student, the one who got lost everywhere and had those uncanny green eyes that seemed to look through your soul and know all your secrets. They seemed to gleam all the time, like the eyes were enchanted on their own. It was eerie.

Orion wasn’t bored any more. No, now he was annoyed.

Orion had lost count how many times this same boy had stumbled against him, nearly run him over, or even almost collided against him only to change directions at the last second. Once, it made Orion lose his footing and drop his things on the ground, he was almost late to his next class because of it. He thought his name was Evans, and according to the rumour mill, Evans was a transfer student who was smart and clever enough in all his classes but was extremely clumsy and got lost often.

He was always stumbling around and stubbing his toes against every corner of the castle. There was always someone who saw Evans in some obscure hallway five minutes before class started, usually in the opposite side of the castle that he was supposed to be. And of course, the “juiciest” part: he had managed to insert himself with Longbottom’s gang. (Orion refused to call them something as stupid as Five Stars. What were they? A restaurant?)

He remembered him from their first divination class, the boy was the first to correctly suggest what was being seen in his cup during the class that predicted his supposed death. At the time, the boy had a nonchalant air to him that made Orion curious, and he was sure Evans' gaze was on him for the rest of the classes they had together that day. 

Certainly, he had an interest in how the predictions would come to be, knowledgeable in divination arts as he seemed to be. But overtime, Evans had annoyed Orion to no end, especially because the strange transfer had the unbearable ability to flounder at the worst possible times, and always around Orion, without even sparing a glance at him.

For example, a couple of days ago Evans had stumbled near him making Orion drop his books all around the south tower while he was already running late for Divination due to a miscalculation on his part. The other boy didn’t even dignify himself to look back and help him, just yelling a quick Sorry over his shoulder and running again. Orion silently seethed for the rest of the day. (Not that he was usually loud or anything.)

So, it was with great effort that Orion remained blank faced, not showing the distaste he felt for the other boy. He peaked at the map hidden in the book on his lap, trying to see if only the Hufflepuff transfer was coming or if he had one of his babysitters with him. Thankfully, it showed a “Hadrian Evans” in front of “Orion Black-Lupin” and a bit further down the corridor the four buffoons that he had the misfortune to call his house-mates. Just the other boy then, this was going to be easy.

“Oh, hey!” The boy said, eyes scanning the corridor before stopping again on Orion. Those electric green eyes focused on him alone made it even more intense. “Black-Lupin, right? Sorry to bother you, but I might be a bit lost. Do you have directions to the Quidditch pitch?” Evans smiled sheepishly, his hand raised to his neck. Orion almost rolled his eyes. Of course, he would be lost, it seemed like the only thing he could do since he arrived.

“It’s that way.” Orion replied, monotone, tilting his head back to the left. Hadrian smiled at him, his eyes scanning to the closed book on Orion’s lap. The werewolf squinted his eyes, he wouldn’t let the boy mess with his book nor the map, of that he was sure.

“Oh, is that Advanced Rune Translation?” Hadrian said, a smile wide enough to cause a wrinkle on the side of his eyes. His eyes brightened and he moved closer. “You are taking Ancient Runes too, right? How are you finding it?” The annoying boy said, looking attentively at Orion.

Why is he striking up a conversation with me?

They barely knew each other, and Orion couldn't care less if they had the class together. It’s not like Orion ever talked to anyone during class. But it seemed the boy wouldn’t go away and his sneer hadn’t sent him running yet. Orion wasn’t a friendly face to anyone, much less to Evans. He was a stranger, and a werewolf at that, but the kid seemed unfazed to his blatant distaste.

Weird puff.

“Yes, I am. I find it fine.” Orion answered, trying to emulate the disdain he could see in Professor Snape’s face when he talked to Harry during class. It was always funny when the potion’s master did that to his annoyance of a cousin. Orion often had to struggle to hold his giggles when Severus was in a mood during class. The man knew how to get out of these situations like nobody else. It seemed, however, that his tactics wouldn’t work for this bloke.

“Oh, that’s great!” The boy smiled more, and Orion could feel dread piling up as the boy didn’t back down from the conversation. Hufflepuff’s were far too friendly for his tastes. “That’s a good book, did you just start studying runes? Because I only read that one once I was a couple of years into my runes studies; otherwise it has a very advance vocabulary that difficulties the reading process.” Evans continued conversationally, deciding to sit with Orion against the wall completely entering the werewolf’s space. 

Orion made a face. The boy was an absolute weirdo. However, something he said made him pause. 

“A couple of years?” Orion said, curiosity making his mouth to speak before he could control himself, the other boy’s eyes seemed to light up. Oh no.

“Yeah! I’ve been studying runes for about seven years or so, I think?” Evans said, resting his head on his knees. “I only read Advanced Rune Translation after my third year of active studies, I needed a better grasp on the basic runic alphabet before that. What do you think about the author? I've always found Yuri Blishen’s stance on the directional flow of magic in runic inscriptions a bit conservative. What do you think?”

Huh.

Orion was surprised Evans wasn’t as clumsy with his studies as he was walking around. Sure the boy seemed knowledgeable in Divination, but often it was a fool’s class. (Not that he would ever tell his dad he thought that. Sirius had a strange obsession with divination in almost everything he did, but Orion and his father never saw much sense in it. He had only entered the class to “at least try” as his dad had put it. And he wouldn’t deny any new knowledge the school had to offer him. Even if he thought it was… unconventional, if one would describe it kindly.) 

Evans did answer all the theoretical questions correctly in Defence… He didn’t remember the boy in any of his other classes, but it seemed like the boy wasn’t a complete lost cause. 

It was interesting. Orion had been independently studying runes since his first year at Hogwarts —heavily influenced by his dad, again— and had finally managed to get to read Yuri Blishen’s advanced Rune Translation during the summer. Orion could admit he had been a bit miffed about some of his orientations. They seemed too plain, too simple, not… magical enough. Like it lacked something crucial in his observations.

“I… I haven't formed a proper opinion yet, it’s my second time reading it.” Orion said, diplomatically and a bit less annoyed. Evans nodded as if what he said was some sage opinion. He seemed more interested that Orion was interested in runes, rather than discussing runes by themselves. It was weird.

“Makes sense, if you'd like, we can meet to talk runes when you finish it, or I can give you some reading suggestions that helped me understand it better.” Evans smiled, getting up and waving his hand at Orion as he walked back where he came from. “I’ll be going then, I need to get to the Quidditch pitch sometime today if I want to fly for a bit. Bye, Black-Lupin! Nice talk!”

And he went away like he was never there in the first place, the corridor oddly quiet without his loud presence.

Evans was a curious Hufflepuff. He didn’t seem afraid of Orion, not even a bit wary of the werewolf sitting beside him as most of his housemates had been since Orion started at Hogwarts. Not only that, he was advanced in runes, enough to be studying for years already at only thirteen, fourteen at the latest. He seemed to have some practical knowledge in divination and was secure enough to voice his opinions. Orion didn’t want to admit it, but he was curious about the boy.

Orion sighed before turning back to his book, wishing he didn’t have his father’s nosiness and his dad’s stubbornness ingrained in him. He was pretty sure he just found a new bone to attach himself to. 

It would’ve been much better to be in the library searching star names and astrology mapping. But no, Harry just had to drag him here, so now he had just gained a new topic to wonder about even when he had barely enough time to breathe alone this semester.

He wasn’t sure how long Evans' friendliness would continue, Orion wasn’t counting on it lasting more than a week. However, if he decided to read his advanced runes copy just a bit more determined to understand it enough to discuss it later, it was nobody business but his.

The feeling of the cold air hitting his face was something he dearly missed, not only from Before, but from now too. He hadn't been able to fly since he first came back to England at the end of 2001 when he and some friends gathered for a mock Quidditch game before the war really started. Ever since then, he barely had the time to sleep, much less for flying. The same lack of time happened in this universe. Today had been the first opportunity he had to go to the skies for a while and just breathe as busy as he had been trying to adapt to his new universe.

As soon as he got up in the sky, it was like he had never stopped flying. Faints, spins, laps and more manoeuvres on a broom that were daring and anxiety inducing, but came as easy as breathing for Hadrian —but once upon a time would have made Molly shriek. He wasn’t bothered by the chilling weather or the risk of falling off in one of his twists, especially now that he didn’t have to use glasses any more to worry about them. He was just free to twirl and race and feel the air, like all his problems were gone.

Hadrian had been flying for about an hour, and he would rather not stop any time soon. It was the most relaxed he had felt ever since he left the auror’s training. After having his first Proper Talk with Orion Black-Lupin, Hadrian was a bit jittery.

He had been wanting to speak with the boy since he first learned who he was, but with the boggart issue his nerves and issues were rising again. He just hoped he hadn’t made a fool of himself in his rush to learn more about the boy, and his hurry to leave the conversation. He had been so high-strung that he was lucky he was already going out. Nothing better than to fly up high and just let free. But he knew it had to end sometime.

He prepared to go back near the ground and just do a couple of laps to slow down his racing heart before he attracted the unwanted attention of the dementors, but a high-pitched whistle called his attention. In the middle of the pitch in all his fifth-year, brown-haired, pretty-smile glory was Cedric Diggory, beaming at Hadrian from the ground. Hadrian felt a sense of foreboding, but went to the friendly upper year, anyway.

“That was amazing!” Cedric exclaimed, raising his hands to meet Hadrian’s shoulders, shaking him excitedly as soon as he had both feet on the ground. “You are an incredible flyer, Hadrian! Please, tell me you play Quidditch, please!” Hadrian laughed as he twisted out of Cedric’s hold. He smiled at the older boy, feeling more light and happy than he had been in a while.

“Yeah, I do. Why?” Hadrian asked, laughing at the maniac smile that broke across Cedric’s face.

“Why?! Because those flying skills are definitely getting us the house cup this year! You don’t even need to try out! I’m the captain this year, and I’m sure the team will be on board! Try-outs will be just a formality!”

“Thank you, Cedric. But if I am to enter the team I would like a fair try out. Entering by my talent, y’know?”

“Oh, I could cry!” Cedric ruffled Hadrian’s hair rather roughly, it escaped the bun he had before lunch a long time ago, around his second twist or so. By now it was a proper bird's nest, even comparable to his first life’s usual hairstyle. “You’re amazing!! A lot of the upper years flat out refused to accept playing this year thanks to the N.E.W.T.S, and no one wanted to be captain either, so our team is lacking a bit but, Hadrian! You are like the answers to all my prayers!”

“Okay Cedric, let’s calm down a bit and talk.” Hadrian laughed, tugging the other boy to sit down with him. He had never seen Cedric so ecstatic, the older boy really seemed to love quidditch. He was glad he could play with him on the same team this time around. “What positions are going to need to be filled?” Hadrian asked, waving his wand, asking for a muggle pen and a piece of parchment to get out of the bag and come to him.

Cedric seemed too pumped to notice the non-verbal casting and just took the list of players out of his own bag, listing the year and position of each one. “Two chasers and a beater. Which is the worst-case scenario, obviously.” Hadrian grimaced, it would be tough. It was challenging to understand the intrinsic aspects of quidditch if you never played before, but an important part was the seeker team play. As much as a seeker is a critical part, they mostly play alone, their job is to end the match as soon as they could or as soon as their team was ready for the win. Their team-play ends there, usually that’s why generally either a chaser or a keeper become captains, they are closer to the game than other positions. 

The rest of the team, on the other hand, has to work in tandem to make their passes and dodge bludgers. A team without one chaser wasn’t too problematic, it was the type of substitution that you could deal with easily, but two chasers? That was a problem.

Two thirds of the chaser trio wouldn’t be aware of the more experienced teammate's tactics and habits, they were new and would throw off their more experienced teammate. The beater was worse. 

The Weasley twins were one of the best beaters Hogwarts and Gryffindor ever had because they worked together flawlessly, but they were the exception to the rule. Hadrian was certain they were capable of reading each other’s minds, they worked perfectly together. But normally, when one beater is more used to the job and pacing of the team than the other, that’s when the accidents happened. 

“Okay, I assume everyone who will stay on the team has been for at least more than a year, right?” Cedric nodded looking at the paper he had in hand, Hadrian chewed his pen in thought not noticing the interested look Cedric had on his face. “Alright, I gotta say, I’m not used to playing chaser, it’s not my preferred position. I usually play seeker, but this team will already be out of sync, so we can make it work it like that.” Cedric smiled wide bright enough to outshine the sun.

“We can make you the reserve for seeker too, if something happens and I’m unable to play, you can go in as seeker and we guilt-trip someone to play chaser for us.” Cedric said lightly, taking the pen from Hadrian’s hands to write down the names of the people already on the team. His hand wobbled a bit as he learned to use a ball-point pen his face a bit confused. Hadrian hid a smile.

“Sure, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Hadrian continued. “Anyway, I would have to relearn the team chemistry anyway, nothing better than to do it from a different position to avoid any bad-habits.”

“Thank you, Hadrian. Really, you don’t know how much this makes me happy!”  Cedric said, throwing himself on the ground, lying flat on the grass of the pitch. Hadrian looked at the paper sheet where a couple of names were crossed out, his brow furrowing in thought.

“I mean, it’s no problem. You must have been stressing a lot over this.” Hadrian stopped talking, hesitating before breaching the topic. “There’s a lot of people you crossed here that are seventh years, and no sixth years, none of them wanted to be captain? Aren’t you also a prefect? That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I know!” Cedric huffed, his hands raising to cover his eyes, his voice a whine of frustration. 

For one of the first times in his life Hadrian saw Cedric just for what he was: a teenager, instead of the memory of death, or the perfect older boy he had been. Just a 15 year-old with school issues and a passion for quidditch.

“I wasn’t even supposed to be the Quidditch captain! Vicky —our old captain— had to send me a letter three days before the term started explaining how neither Heidi, Malcolm, nor Maxine accepted the captain badge because they didn’t feel like they deserved it. Or they were too busy with N.E.W.T.’S this year to bother with it, and not only that but they were also leaving the team. They practically forced me to accept it, having to deal with almost half of the team gone, acting like it’s not also my O.W.L year or anything, right? It’s just, —ARRGHH!” The prefect exclaimed, his hands covering his mouth and eyes, muffling the sound of a groan of desperation of the academic and social kind that only overworked teenagers could exclaim.

Hadrian gave a couple of pats on the older boy’s head, unsure of how to respond to it. Usually, when Hermione did that she had already crushed three to four people in the Gryffindor common room and everyone knew it was better to leaver her alone to deal with it.

He liked Cedric, he was fun, he had been kind, and had basically adopted Hadrian since the first time they crossed each other on the Hogwarts Express. At first, Hadrian had been a bit nervous, but he knew he would like to have Cedric as a friend. The boy seemed to stick by his side without a second thought. Often it leads to the prefect finding him when Hadrian was eating alone in the mornings before the rush for classes, or using his prefect duties as an excuse to “escort” him to classes. (read: babysitting him so he wouldn’t get lost. Again.)

However, Hadrian wasn’t used to Cedric yet, he didn’t know how to react to him in other situations; if it would be going too far to hang out with him out of classes, or ask him to go with him to get a snack in the kitchens. He was so different from the friends he had before, both in his life and the one from before.

The truth is, Hadrian always had a hard time making friends when he was a kid and as he grew up it didn’t get much better. Sure, plenty of people felt like they should talk to him like they were friends everywhere he went because he was famously a hero or something, but true friends were difficult to come by during his lifetime. From his experience, friendship came from near-death adventures and defying authority together, you don’t just stumble on them in the hallway and decide “oh hey, I want to be their friend!”

Also, the teenager feelings Hadrian was feeling were still very real for this situation. It made it all so uncomfortable and hard. Adult Harry would’ve helped with Cedric quidditch insecurity without batting an eye and dealt with the feelings without issue. Thirteen-year-old Hadrian felt uncomfortable talking about feelings in general, even less related to responsibilities. But whatever, Hadrian wants to be a good friend to Cedric, like he has been for him. He can suck it up and deal with his issues later.

“I’m sorry…” Cedric mumbled, removing his hands from his face, looking at Hadrian with those kind brown doe eyes. Hadrian tilted his head, confused as to what he was apologizing for. “This wasn’t about me or my problems, it was supposed to be about you and all that…”

“There’s no problem,” He interrupted, his decision firm to be a good friend. “You’re welcome to talk to me about anything you want, anytime. But if you were really curious, what did you want to talk about with me? Besides Quidditch, of course.” Hadrian smiled, a bit confused about Cedric sudden change in mood.

“I came here to ask how you are doing.” Cedric said, sitting up to be mirroring the way the younger boy was sitting. His face was serious, but not less attentive. “By now the whole school and their fourth generation grandmother must have heard about your boggart, but you haven’t talked about it to anyone yet. I’m worried about you.”

“Oh…” Hadrian eyes suddenly felt wet, he hurriedly looked the other way turning his gaze away from the older boy.

It had been some time since someone he considered a friend worried about him in such a genuine way. Sure, Ron and Hermione always tried too, but they were all in the same hellhole during their lives. And by the time Hadrian died, there was a very low number of his year-mates still alive and his closest friends had long since died out. 

His battle-squad tried their best to feel closer, to be there for each other, but for the same reason he hadn’t connected with his year mates during his school years, he didn’t feel close to them. It wasn’t always possible to form connections with each other when you were neck deep in your own problems in the apocalypse.

Only so many people can die in front of you before you start learning to stay away from them for good. Not that it hurts less, but you could pretend it did and sacrifice yourself for them anyway, dying in their place and all that. 

In his experience, dying was far easier than grieving.

Hadrian Evans hadn’t listened to even a second of this wizened advice, however. No. The boy he had hijacked was hungry for permanent friendships after a life travelling and having to leave all his friends behind, a stable friend felt like a dream. To go from exchanging letters for a while until their lives eventually left them too busy to write to the boy you met for a month a couple of years ago to living in the same space that they lived. It was a rare opportunity! Hogwarts was Hadrian’s chance of real friends like it had once been for 11-year-old Harry.

So the mismatched mass that became them both just accepted it. And now, two weeks since they first met, he had a kind eyed Cedric Diggory in front of him, asking if he was alright after facing a Boggart. A creature he had faced more than 30 times in his first third year alone. The other boy didn’t know, and Hadrian had the feeling that even if he knew, Cedric would worry the same.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it, but like I said on the train: If you want to talk, I’ll be here to listen.” Cedric said, his eyes kind and understanding. He had been the first person to understand what a transfer homeschooled student could mean in Hadrian’s situation. He surely had his suspicions of what his boggart meant, even if they wouldn’t be true in the end, Cedric would never directly ask for the explanation, it stood for how caring Cedric was. It awed Hadrian that a person he knew for barely a month could be so undeniably kind without expecting anything for it.

Now, more than ever, Hadrian couldn’t help but mourn for the seventeen-year-old that died too suddenly, too violently and too young. He wished he had more time with Cedric Diggory from his home universe, but nothing could ever change that that boy is dead. He had, however, his own Cedric right now, one who wanted to talk, to know him, and to spend time with him. He was one of the few people in this universe that knew he was an orphan and alone in this world. Cedric had made all the steps to put himself as an ally to Hadrian, maybe even a friend.

“The boggart was about my guilt.” Hadrian started, looking down at his hands that were fidgeting on his lap, missing Cedric’s surprised look and consequential undivided attention. He decided to do the brave thing and confront his feeling with his friend by his side. “When it all… happened, it felt like magic failed me. I don’t remember much from the attack… I don’t remember much in general from May last year until the end of August before I came to the Hogwarts Express. It might be thanks to trauma, or something… It might be a curse, it might be a gift… I don’t know.” He drew a breath. “But I’m afraid that being at Hogwarts, living, being happy in general, it’s something I don’t deserve…”

“And that when it inevitably happens again, you’ll deserve it…” Cedric completed it, Hadrian still didn’t look at him.

“Because I did nothing to prevent it. Yeah.” He said, looking over to the quidditch stands, his memory showing them burning for the first time. Then them being reconstructed, then burning again, and never being filled with students because there wasn’t magic to rebuild, or to teach, or even enough kids alive for it to be used. It was one of the times he was most honest to himself. 

Sure he feared failure, he feared his family dying, he feared the possibility of being the boy-who-lived again, he feared the unknown of this universe. But what he feared the most was the consequences of his inaction. How could he sleep at night knowing he had a second chance and did nothing to solve the issues of this universe? 

He would try his best to get better and to learn to live too, but it didn’t mean that the thoughts would go away soon.

“I’m sorry.” Cedric said.

“It’ not your fault…” Hadrian murmured.

“I still can be sorry it happened anyway.” They stayed quiet for a while after that. 

Cedric obviously knows there is more to the fear than just that, but he seems satisfied with what Hadrian told him. He hadn’t lied, anyway; he was even rawer than he had been with Sprout. Strangely, while he remembered most of what happened before May, around his last birthday his memories start getting foggy until he woke up in the Hogwarts express. It raised some questions on why his memories before he turned twelve were much more vivid than the more recent ones. He had no trouble remembering his first life, nor the older stuff from this one… It just raised a couple of questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to be answered.

“Alright.” Cedric exclaimed, hands on his lap and face facing Hadrian who looked back at him a bit startled. The older boy’s eyes were focused and his shoulders set. “Thank you for talking about it with me. Anytime you want to talk about anything, everything and nothing, I’m here for it. We are friends, and I listen and help my friends with whatever they need. No questions asked.” Cedric smiles and ruffles Hadrian’s hair and he can’t help but smile back, even if his mind is reeling a bit from the eagerness inside him.

Friends.

It is unclear to him why that is surprising him now. Even before his literal first day, Cedric has been welcoming, kind, and understanding. He always talks to Hadrian, sometimes even leaving his own year mates to accompany Hadrian as the third year got lost explored the castle in his spare time. They have been friends for a while now and Hadrian hadn’t noticed until Cedric waved it in his face and called it for what it was.

(For fuck's sake, he had been planning on how to convince Cedric to accept his friendship and thinking on how that would make him happy without noticing they already were friends. How dense can he get?)

It was a good feeling, to have a new friend.

“Now that’s over, let's get rid of this gloomy feeling and go flying! I need to shape you up for the chaser position if you want to have an honest competition on the try-outs. Let’s go! Get your broom in the air, Evans!” Cedric said, jumping up as he grabs the handle of his own broom from where it was resting beside them. Hadrian can’t help but laugh before following him.

“See if you can keep up, Captain!”  Hadrian suddenly takes flight to the sound of Cedric’s laugh in the distance.

When Sunday finally came, Hadrian could say that, to his great relief, everything was going well this weekend.

The day after his unprompted quidditch training, Hermione’s birthday had finally arrived. It was something Hadrian and the rest of their friends had been planning behind her back since the first week when the quintet accepted Hadrian in their little clubhouse without much trouble. They explained how they hadn’t had much issue doing celebrations in the first two years of classes because all of Hermione’s friends were from Gryffindor. Now, however, the older girl had befriended Luna during the last term and Hadrian during the past few weeks, so they had to find a place to celebrate outside the Gryffindor Tower to make sure everyone could be there.

Hadrian offered one of the unused classrooms he found while exploring. The mirrored looks of doubt in Ron and Neville’s faces were similar enough to make him uneasy, he gave them instructions on how to find the room and decided not to think much about it. Even after showing it to them, it took a bit of convincing from Neville for Ron to accept it as a good option for the party, but it was all coming to place already. Neville and Luna were putting up the decorations while Ginny and Ron distracted the birthday girl with some homework trouble. Hadrian, on the other hand, was responsible for the snacks and the cake.

That’s how he managed to rope Cedric in the situation the older boy was currently complaining about. Loudly.

“Really, why do I have to carry all these boxes while you’re only carrying the cake?” Cedric asked as he managed the bowls of treats. Chips, Cornish pastries, scones to start, pumpkin treats, fizzing whizzbees, ice mine, treacle tart and more! All of them floating above the prefect’s head as he controlled the dishes up the stairs to the room on the third floor where the party would take place in around forty minutes.

“Because, Mr. Prefect, you offered to help me with anything and everything, anytime, no questions asked. And my floating charm needs more work on multiple targets for me to do that efficiently. So I carry the cake, you carry the rest. Now hurry before she comes and see us floating birthday-food to a random classroom on her birthday.” Hadrian said, like a little shit.

“Alright, Alright! It’s around here, right?” Cedric said, his smile wide but his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Yep, third one on the left.” Hadrian said, passing Cedric to go to the right door. “I’ll open it for you.”

“Thanks!”

“Hey, guys! The food is here!” Hadrian called, holding the door open for Cedric to walk in without distracting himself from the magic induced juggling he had been doing for the past 10 minutes. “Where do we put everything?”

They had finally arrived to the room and he could confidently say that the decorations were beautiful, his friends had done an impressive job. There were fairy lights above them —certainly magical as there was no wire between them, just mini floating lights—, the tables were covered in red cloths that shone in the dimmed light of the room, and a banner with “Happy Cake Day, Mione!” in shining red lettering was being put in place by the Weasley twins.

“The table to the right, Hadrian, please!” Luna called from where she was upside-down on the ceiling adjusting some of the garlands hanging from her side of the room. This would be normal, if not for the fact that she was apparently doing it without magic. Neville was with his wand out, directly under Luna, ready to hold her in case the girl fell. Hadrian led Cedric to the table, where he put the boy to work with him to separate the snacks in more than one bowl and put them in their correct places. 

Half an hour later, everything was ready, lights, decorations, food, and presents all in their right places. They hid carefully, closing the curtains and blowing out the candles in the room. The twins were on the duty to call when Hermione got near the classroom, using a tracking spell they supposedly used while planning pranks. As they cast the spell, they exchanged looks, side-eyeing Cedric, before deciding the prefect wouldn’t snitch on them yet.

(They were right, Cedric wouldn’t snitch. He was very touched that Hadrian decided to ask for his help while organizing his friend's birthday party so soon after their conversation yesterday. It seemed like the transfer student finally decided to be more open with Cedric. So he wouldn’t be a stuck-up prefect today. He wasn’t a strict prefect if he could help it, but he knew he had his obligations to the school. 

He was honoured to be invited to the party, anyway, he knew how close they all were and it was nice to be included in it, even if he didn’t know all of them well. He just wished he had a gift to give Hermione, but Hadrian invited him too late for Cedric to owl order anything. Cedric decided to be the best guest he could and later see if he could give a late birthday present to Hermione based on what he learned of her during the celebration.)

“She's coming!” The twins said together, scurrying behind one of the tables to hide too. In the distance, they could hear the birthday girl's voice scolding their friends.

“Really, Ronald! I can’t even imagine how you’ve lost your quill on this floor! We don’t even have classes in this corridor!” Hadrian suppressed his giggles with all his might, ready for the door to open.

“It’ll be quick, ‘Mione, I promise! C’mon is this room!” Ron pushed open the door and Hermione walked into the room. Suddenly, the curtains were drawn and the candles lit. 

“SURPRISE!” They screamed, and colourful confetti popped. “Happy birthday, to you!” They sang as a magical-assisted melody started.

“AH!” Hermione exclaimed, surprised, before starting to laugh, her smile big and eyes wet looking at their faces as they sang and clapped. “You guys…!” She proceeded to hug Ron and Ginny, who were at her side, as Neville brought the cake, its candles already lit by Luna in varied colourful fires. Hermione blew the candles before proceeding to hug the life out of everyone in the room, including an unprepared Cedric.

As the evening went on they celebrated their friend birthday happily: they played both muggle and wizarding games, talked about the new school year and their classes, ate all the pastries and cake and more. Everyone was excited for when Hermione opened the gifts: books, fancy quills, colourful hair clips and a fancy planner (Hadrian’s gift, he owl ordered it as soon as he could). They spent some more time talking and laughing, eventually they calmed a bit, talking in smaller groups, until the twins decided to interrogate Hadrian, of course.

“So, Hadrikins…” Fred started, his eyes focused like a predator as he looked at Hadrian, waiting for a reaction to the awful nickname. The younger boy, on the other hand, calmly looked back at him with a slight smile on his face. “It has been a great evening!”

“Marvellous, in fact!” George interrupted, with a quirk to his lips.

“Fantastic, indeed!” Fred continued. “However there is a question that has been on our minds for some time now…”

“Go ahead.” Hadrian said, already sensing that the twins would try to rile him up even more. The two brothers exchanged looks, intense and rapid one’s. If this had been Hadrian’s first time meeting the twins, he wouldn’t have noticed, but once upon a time he had been considered a younger brother to them. He could see that George was disagreeing to something Fred wanted to do, but was being convinced.

“The great question today,—” George said, a minimal grimace fixed on his face. “— How have you managed to befriend our little siblings so easily?” He smiled, wincing slithly at the loud voice that exclaimed after him.

“George!” Ron called, glaring at the older boy. Ginny didn’t look much better, her wand already in hand, her face promising many hexes in their near future if the boy decided to mess too much with them.

“Calm down, you two!” Called Fred, raising his hands as if in defeat, but never taking his eyes off Hadrian. “We just wanted to know how this close-knit group managed to open the knot after Hermione sealed it shut behind her in your first year.”

“All of you,“ Fred said as he pointed at Neville, Ron, Ginny, and Luna. “Know each other since nappies. We—” He pointed to his younger siblings and Luna. “—have know Perfect Diggory here since forever because we all have basically been neighbours since we were around eight.” He continued, both twins smirking as Cedric’s face twitched at the nickname they used. “Besides being in the same year as our dear prefect, of course.”

“Hermione befriended Ron and Neville by Mountain-troll defeating and related struggles from the past two years, which are all respectable friendship starters recognized in the International Confederation of Wizards.” George shrugged, pointing at the girl, who was also frowning. By now, most of the people in the room were glaring at the twins, all except the twins themselves and Hadrian, who was still smiling. And Cedric, whose glare was more of confusion than anger. “So, how did you manage, Hadrian? What are your secrets?”

“Any world domination plans?” Fred said, squinting his eyes at Hadrian. “A way to use this group in your nefarious plans?”

“I have none of those.” Hadrian said simply. Honestly, he was getting tired of explaining himself to others. He was just going to do his thing from now on. “They were the ones who decided to talk with the sleeping new kid in the train here.” He shrugged.

…

The silence rang for a bit.

It was clear all of them were a bit curious, specially with the non-answer he gave. Hadrian could admit he never “managed to insert himself in their group”; it’s more like they forcibly adopted him after all that happened during the ride on September 1st.  Honestly, he was expecting to never see them again after being sorted in Hufflepuff, only to be surprised during the Divination class and the following weeks. They didn’t need to know why he accepted their friendship, but they for sure were curious of what he thought about it.

“They are kind, fun, interesting, and smart. They wanted to be friends, and I did too.” Hadrian explained, shrugging. “I don’t see how that is a problem or how that could be so difficult.”

“It’s not.” Fred said, also shrugging.

“But this particular group of friends isn’t the most open, you see.” George said. The boy still hadn’t taken his eyes off Hadrian even if his twin had relaxed and accepted the explanation.

“He is not Potter, guys.” Neville said, also relaxed by now. He understood that the twins weren’t really trying to be confrontational, they were only acting as the collective older brothers of the group as they tended to be since they met. “You don’t need to be on your guard, Hadrian is cool.”

“Thanks, Nev.” Hadrian smiles at Neville who smiles back, George still looked a bit suspicious, but he seemed to back down for a bit. “Honestly, there wasn’t any machinations or intentions behind this friendship. They woke me up on the Hogwarts Express and since then, we became friends. I know we don’t know each other well, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like them. They are my friends, simply as that.”

They both nodded. George clearly not trusting, but willing to observe, for now. Fred just seemed satisfied with the answer moving to talk to Luna.

“Now…” Hadrian asked, a wicked smile on his face as he looked at Cedric. The boy immediately tensed, sensing something in Hadrian’s gaze. “Perfect Diggory, you said?” The prefect’s face reddened and he glared at Hadrian.

“Dear Diggory here,” Fred said, his smile as wicked as Hadrian’s, jumping to hold Cedric’s shoulders in a side-hug. Cedric grimaced. “It’s the golden boy of our year. Every teacher has a good word about him, or a recommendation, or a compliment, or whatever else there is to say to imply he is Perfect.”

“And now, not only is he a Prefect, he’s also a Quidditch captain! After being the Hufflepuff’s main seeker ever since he was an itty bitty second year!” George continued, waving his hands around dramatically.

“It’s a nickname I got in third year.” Cedric said, explaining to Hadrian. He shrugged out of Fred’s “I’m good at practical work, so in those classes I tend to stand out. And I always made sure my essays made sense.”

“Not only that, but Snape once awarded him points! In our first year no less!” George called, and at that all the Gryffindor turned their heads to him, their mouths hung open, even Hadrian was impressed. Cedric blushed. “Because of that, and other favours, he is Perfect Diggory.”

“Not even the Dungeon Bat can see anything wrong with him.” Fred said mystically while Cedric rolled his eyes again. Luna asked something and suddenly, they changed topics, talking about some new bat creature a magizoologist had found in South America. Hadrian noticed Cedric’s face was still red, however. He scooted over next to his friend.

“Does it bother you?” Hadrian asked, looking at Cedric. The tip of the older boy’s ears were red. He turned to look at Hadrian, raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“The nickname, does it bother you?” He clarified.

“Oh.” Cedric smiled, before ruffling Hadrian’s hair who let out a squawk in protest. “Nah, it’s alright. I know the Weasleys do it in good fun. No need to worry.”

“Alright then.” Hadrian smiled, and as the conversation proceeded to a new direction. He couldn’t help but think this was a sort of test, a way for the twins to determine how Hadrian’s personality worked with both Cedric and the quintet in the same place. Someone they saw as a perfect rule-follower and their little siblings who always got in trouble, for them it was important to see how he dealt with both types of people before letting him get close to the kids. 

He can’t judge them, he would’ve acted the same way if someone decided to be friendly with Luna in his past life. No reason whatsoever, and suddenly, they start being friendly, caring after the years she spent being bullied? Well, they would be interrogated at least, threatened at worst. So he understood where they were coming from, and hoped that what they found in him was enough.

Not that he would stop being their friend if they didn’t, it was just best to not be on the Weasley Twins bad side if you can help it.

“— and he just thinks that everyone owes him everything because he is our seeker!” Ginny exclaimed, talking quidditch with Cedric, bringing Hadrian out of his musings. It seemed that she was explaining how this year she would be able to try out for the team and she was gunning for the seeker position to take Potter down a peg. A rant he had heard a couple of times a week since they met. At least.

“I get it, Potter’s so obnoxious.” Cedric said, rolling his eyes hard. Ginny nodded with a lot of enthusiasm. “He thinks he is Merlin on a broom, honestly he is absurd.”

“Right?! He isn’t awful as a seeker, I am woman enough to admit that, —”

“Just an awful person.” Ron interjected, a grin on his face.

“— but he is —Exactly, now shut up and let me finish!— Anyway, he is so cocky! He makes half of his plays just unnecessary show-off! We would be able to win so much faster if he actually took this all seriously!” She continued, determined.

“I take a bit of offence to that, but I swear that last year’s Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match the stitch was literally on his left side and he didn’t catch it.” Cedric huffed.

“It was!! I saw that too!” Ginny exclaimed, exasperated. Her hands moving around in frantic motions that made Neville take a step to the side, his eyes caught Hadrian’s who was trying to contain his giggles. “He’s just so self-absorbed all the time! I heard he made a scene during Care class some time ago too, like that’s Hagrid’s class! The man is a giant sweetheart!”

“Yeah, we were there for the trouble in Care.” Ron interrupted, adding his two knuts to the conversation, rolling his eyes. Cedric perked up, curiously turning over to Ron. “He provoked Buckbeak —Hagrid’s hipogriff—, so of course he would get decked by it. Common sense with magical creatures, really. Hagrid warned us, he did it anyway… I say he deserved it.”

“Professor Hagrid, Ron. Besides, Professor Potter was the one who had to stop his nonsense, in the end.” Hermione said, a frown on her face. “I heard he got two weeks detention with Filch because of it.”

“Deserved.” Neville said in his glass, taking a sip of his muggle soda before continuing, Luna nodding beside him. “I can’t imagine doing half of the things he does at school if my Gran was here as a teacher. I’d get my bum in detention two times a day, minimum.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry for him.” Said Fred, shuffling the set of muggle cards they managed to smuggle for Hermione’s birthday. He and George had been trying to beat each other at solitaire for a while now. They both were awful at it, but it made Hadrian wonder if there was even something as competitive solitaire for them to play like that.

“He is not very respectful of other creatures. Or other beings in general.” Luna said, even her usually cheery face now carried a frown when talking about the boy. “I don't understand why he is like that, but I don’t like it.”

“Who does?” Neville snorted, shaking his head. “He’s been like that since we first met!”

“What do you mean?” Hadrian asked, tilting his head in curiosity. “When did you meet?”

They all stopped their rant, suddenly reminded that Hadrian hadn't known them since forever, even if he fit their lives like he was meant to be there. With one look at Hermione they understood she also didn’t know. It was weird, two people who fit in their lives as if they had always been there actually hadn’t.

“Well, when we were children, Gran wanted me to have friends my age not obsessed by the Boy-Who-Lived stuff.” Neville said, a bit distant, as if barely remembering. His voice was soft and calm. “I think we were really young, like three or four years old.”

“Mum and Dad offered me as a sacrifice to Madam Longbottom,—“ Ron said, laughing at Neville’s face. “—But at the time where I was, Ginny was too because we were too little to be left alone or with our other siblings.” Ron said shrugging. “Us three became fast friends and eventually Neville spent most days with us when his Gran was busy or something.”

“Nev’s basically a Weasley by now.” Ginny smiled, hugging Neville’s much like her siblings did often. Neville smiled widely, cheek to cheek. “But we were a bit too much for Mum and Dad, specially when it wasn’t just us three.” She sent a stinky eye to her twin older brothers.

“So they introduced us five to the Potters and the Black-Lupins.” Fred said, motioning towards his siblings and Neville. Something about multiplying the eyes on the kids and being almost the same number in case we staged a mutiny.”

“They all came together attached at the hip, practically. The two families and the kids. Pretty sure they are like, surrogate cousins or something like that.” Continued George, shrugging.

“From what I know they don’t actually share blood.” Hermione interjected, her head tilted as she listened to their explanation to the feud she was part of but didn’t know the reason to. “But Sirius Black-Lupin is Potter’s godfather.”

“How do you know that?” Ron asked, brow furrowed, Hermione’s cheeks pinkened and she averted her gaze. She didn’t answer the question.

“Not that it matters much.” Neville said, frowning again, but ultimately saving Hermione from questioning. “My mum was Potter’s godmother, and look at how he treats me most of the time.” 

“Anyway,” Ron continued, “that was when we were like, seven, or eight, I think. A bit after he officially hit eight, that’s when Potter got bad.”

“He’s the youngest before me and Luna, so we were kind of close.” Ginny said, resting her head on one of her hands. “He wasn’t that bad before that, just a bit spoiled, I think. Like normal rich kid.”

“We had to deal with a bit of it when Nevinkins started playing with us, but soon he grew out of it.” George added to the sounds of a sputtering Neville. “The problem was that he got mean.”

“He started saying how Neville was entitled, how Nev thought he was the centre of the universe and all other type of shit.” Ginny said, her face thunderous. “That Nev’s parents were dumb and that Nev wasn’t good enough to respect their legacy or whatever.”

“And me and Ginny just couldn’t have that!” Ron exclaimed. “We knew Nev for years at that point! We wouldn’t let Potter badmouth our honorary sibling like that!”

“Ginny and I.” Corrected Hermione. Ron responded in a very mature manner by blowing a raspberry at her who retributed in kind. However, Hermione still seemed awfully curious about the topic, she rapidly looked at Ginny to look for answers.

“So we started a brawl.” Ginny said, smiling with a shrug like it was the simplest thing in the world. Hadrian shuddered at the mental image and even Hermione blanched.

“A brawl?” Hermione asked, incredulous. Her voice reaching a high pitch that only a really concerned Hermione could achieve.

“Yeah! There were lots of mud, hair pulling and scratching involved.” Ron said, moving his hands like he was scratching something. “Too brutal for a bunch of kids, for sure. The adults had to come and separate us because the twins wouldn’t get involved, they were egging us on and betting chores on who would win. Ever since then it’s been Weasley-Longbottom against Potter-Black-Lupin, at least for us.”

“Until me!” Added Luna, smiling gently, her eyes bright and her smile as vicious as Ginny’s. They all smiled back.

“Yeah, until moonlight over here managed to explode one of our colour-changing bombs directly on their heads when she was, what? Eight or so?” George exclaimed, smiling as wide as the smaller girl.

“Seven, actually.” She nodded, her blonde hair flowing wildly.

“Of course. We were just about to start Hogwarts that year, so our work wasn’t the best yet.” Fred said. “But we decided not to interfere with the starting feud in fear Mum would find our things and not let us in Hogwarts with them.”

“Even if they weren’t the best of our works, they were still powerful. Powerful enough that Luna turned Potter’s hair green for three months!” George continued. “It was amazing and inspired us so much for the next year that until this day colour changing pranks are our favourites!” The twins hugged Luna, making her giggle loudly.

“Then we came to Hogwarts and it became us six plus Hermione against the five buffoons from Potter’s side.” Neville continued, smiling while gesturing to all of them. “Well, in first year it was actually three to four, with the twins coming to our defence if necessary and Potter hadn’t befriended McLaggen yet.”

“Then with Luna and Ginny, plus Cormac and some other Potter bootlickers we are roughly even.” Ron said, counting with his fingers to show the difference in their ‘factions’.

“Now, we are here with you and Cedric.” Ginny said, nodding to the Hufflepuffs. “Our feud has been going for years now. Every so often I think we could ignore it, but it’s not like Potter has done anything to show he’s changed since then. Actually, he has got even more obnoxious and nasty as the years pass.”

“It’s a Holy war we gladly fight in until the twat learns his lesson.” George declared, tone all proper and serious, as if their childhood feud was a noble mission they couldn’t refuse.

 “However, could we, possibly, consider the ally-ship of the Evans-Diggory coalition on this noble war of ideals and morals?” Fred asked, like it was a negotiation to political ally-ship. Cedric and Hadrian looked at each other and laughed.

“Sure why not?” Hadrian answered, smiling.

“Let’s add some Hufflepuff’ ruthlessness in this feud!” Cedric exclaimed shaking Hadrian roughly, he seemed much more excited than Hadrian in this situation. It made sense, he had spent the last year playing against the younger boy, he actually knew Potter. His pettiness was warranted and visible, as his previous quidditch rant showed.

Hadrian couldn’t help but feel a little weird about it. He can understand that this Harry Potter isn’t him, but it’s so odd to see his friends almost hate him. It was so close to their usual talks during school. You can exchange Potter for Malfoy and it would be something he, Ron and Hermione would’ve said when they were kids and Draco tormented them in every opportunity he had.

That comparison alone showed how bad Potter was. 

Even with that knowledge, it didn’t do anything to make the situation less weird foor himself. Sure, let’s enter a feud with our alternate selves. What could go wrong?

Even with all those thoughts, he couldn’t help but focus on a detail of the story. Or rather, someone.

“What about Black-Lupin?” He said with-out thinking. The ongoing conversation paused at his question. Hadrian forced himself to not blush out of embarrassment and stand to his curiosity.

“What about him?” Ron asked, already distracted again with the Twins card games.

“Well, you said you also met him when you were kids. Is he as bad as Potter?” Hadrian asked, looking at his friends. All of them raised their eyebrows similarly, as if sheepish and confused by the question. Even Hermione and Cedric looked a bit tense, as if the answer now wasn’t just about the childhood of their friends, but something else.

“Hadrian…” Neville started, looking around to see if anyone would voluntarily answer the question. No one dignified to respond, so his friend took upon the burden to answer it. “You do know that Black-Lupin is a werewolf, right?”

Hadrian raised an eyebrow, his expression now cold. The others couldn’t help the shiver that ran down their spines, feeling like they had made a mistake somewhere but didn’t know when.

“Yes. And?” Hadrian answered, his eyes sharp and mouth in a set line.

“Well, he is considered dangerous…” Ron said, awkwardly. “So…”

“Okay. But I didn’t ask about his illness, I asked about him.” Hadrian said, more determined this time. “Is he as bad as Potter? Is he mean to you guys or prejudiced? Does he bully any of you?”

“Hm… No, I guess?” Ron answered now that Hadrian had his eyes on him. He gulped. “He was more talkative as a kid, but he closed off after we started our feud and he chose Harry’s side. I think he just decided to cut contact”

“I don’t think I ever heard him talk, besides during class.” Hermione added, looking at Hadrian. “But I can admit he never said anything mean to me. He’s just part of their group, it’s best not mess with them when they’ll mess with us whether we want or not.”

“He was quite nice to me when we first met.” Luna said, she didn’t have the same ashamed expression the others had on their faces but she had a slightly annoyed one. He was sure of the fact that Black-Lupin having lycanthropy didn’t bother her, but something else did. Hadrian was curious. “He seems to be affected by Nøkks most of the time. Always lonely and sad.”

It was clear by the expressions none of them knew what she was talking about. But differently from his world, this group had known Luna enough to not doubt her creatures and indulge on her mood, it would often reveal something they weren’t seeing yet. Noticing their looks she sighed, before explaining to the group.

“Nøkks are usually found in bodies of water, but they can travel in land too. They disguise themselves and make a person alone, they are invisible, of course, but you can always tell when a person is lonely by their presence.” Luna explained, one of her hands fidgeting on the hems of her jumper. 

“So you’re saying that he is lonely?” Hadrian asked, tilting his head to the side, as if analysing the scenario. Luna looked back at him, her light blue eyes uncanny as they observe something more than just Hadrian.

“It’s what the Nøkks tell me.” She nodded. Ginny gave a doubting hum, not for Luna, but for the statement itself.

“But he is always with Potter! We already established they are a package deal, take one, the other comes running behind.” She declared, arms crossed and a frown on her face. “He is always behind Potter like a bodyguard or somethin’.” 

“But he is never actually with Potter.” Hermione said, her thinking face on. “They are never paired together in class, Black-Lupin usually does all the classwork alone.” 

“Of course you would notice that.” Ron says, sarcastically.

“Shut up, Ronald.” Hermione says, blowing a raspberry.

“Now that you say that…” Neville started, looking at Ron who looked lost. “Dean, Seamus and Potter never actually talk or include Black-Lupin in their dorm activities… And when he is involved he is either used as heavy lifting or just, there, I guess.”

“Huh… Yeah, the kid usually was by Gryffindor’s fireplace reading everynight, this year he has been missing from his post, but we can guarantee he’s not with Potter most of the time.” Fred says, looking at George to confirm his statement.

“Yeah… I don’t think they eat together either.” George said, looking at Fred. “Yesterday the kid was eating alone when Potter just grabbed him from the table and out the Great Hall… From what I see, the kid didn’t even finish his bacon before he got snatched.”

“So he isn’t actually with Potter most times, he isn’t really his class-partner and they don’t even really talk. Are they even really friends?” Cedric asks, one hand holding his chin, thinking. “If so, why is he taking part on Potter’s side? What does he want?” They all shrugged, unsure of the answer.

Well… Hadrian is certainly going to find out.