Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Nineteen Ninety One, Black Residence.

“Siri, there’s mail.” Draco calls up the stairs wearing his faded Queens T that he stole from Sirius’s closet, and relaxed fit jeans Sirius got for him last month. “Coming”, Sirius calls back before apparating beside him. 

“Shite,” Draco started, quickly trying to regain his balance. Sirius just chuckles, before saying, “You really got to get used to that you know.”, his voice filled with humor. “Ya ya, I can’t wait until I have my own wand.” Draco mutters embarrassed. Sirius just chuckles and ruffles his hair causing him to scowl without any heat. Draco grumbles and slips out of arm range.  

(It has been 5 years since Sirius has become Draco’s honorary big brother/caregiver. During this time Draco has: changed his last name to Black, been  blood and magic adopted, and picked up his older brother’s taste in music and style. Sirius’s escape has also not yet been revealed for he has kept his head down. )

Sirius just bends down and picks the letters up. There was the usual junk mail and letter from the sweet old lady down the street (who Sirius is betting is insane but Draco thinks is a scribe), but the extra letter caught Draco’s attention. “What’s that?” Draco asks, before snatching it from Sirius’s hands. 

“Hey, brattling”, Sirius calls trying to fake offence but amused, and excited, maybe? “Anyways he has a shit eating grin.” Draco thinks, and holds the letter more carefully at that, giving Sirius a questioning look. “It’s another joke letter isn’t it.” Draco says with a raised eyebrow. “Nope,” Sirius says, his gin never diminishing. “Then what is it?” Draco asks aprehensively. 

“Just open it.” Sirius just says like an hyperactive puppy. Draco could swear he was almost jumping up and down. He gives him a look before slowly breaking the seal. To reveal a letter stating, ‘ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 J…”

Nineteen Ninety One, Lupin Residence.

“Uncle Moony, there’s mail.” Harry shouts after sliding down the railing to the first floor. “Alright Harry I'll be right be right down.” Moony calls back from the upstairs of their cottage. “He’s probably reading again.” Harry thinks casually, as he walks over to the door.

Harry then picks them up, inspecting them nosily. It was mostly junk mail and magazines, almost all addressed to uncle Moony. He almost just drops them, but the fancy one with his name on it caught his attention, cause no one ever sends him letters. He just stares at it for a good few moments completely entranced. Moony’s entrance breaks him out of his super. 

“ Button Buck , what are you doing?” Moony says with a raised eyebrow.  “Nothing!” Harry panics and quickly hides the letters behind him. Moony just raises an eyebrow and asks, “Harriet James Potter, what did you do?” Harry cringes and then says, “I promise I didn’t do anything but one of the letters is addressed to Harry Potter.” Sheepishly and a little hopeful. Moony sighs but at least it was a good sigh Harry thinks and calms down a little. “Hand it over Button Buck.” Moony says almost a little excited and amused which confused Harry, but whatever he thinks and does so. 

Moony smiles at the letter and Harry is confused. Usually when someone sends a letter about him it means he played a prank or did something wrong. Moony then asks, “My Star, did you actually look at the crest?”  Harry shakes his head feeling like he’s missing a lot of context, Moony almost sounds like he’s trying to hold back laughter, and he only calls him My Star when he’s missing something about the situation. “Well why don’t you do that My Star?” Moony asks, barely holding back laughter as he hands back the letter.

Harry takes it back confused then sees the crest and is still confused for a moment before realising. “Wait, is this my Hogwarts letter?” Harry asks, his eyes lighting up and his brain filling with all the stories Moony told him of his and Harry’s parents' time there. The different pranks and the Marauders map, along with Pieves and Professor Monganigal.

“Why don’t you open it and see?” Moony asks, holding up a camera with a small fond but mischievous smile. Harry immediately breaks the seal with no disregard for the envelope safety, and Remus captures the whole thing. 

He says “James Lily look at how far your boy has come, and Lily I know the envelope is ruined he’s far too much James to ever try and stop tha...” quietly and fondly to the air before he gets cut off.

Chapter Text

Before Draco even finishes reading, Sirius cuts him off—his voice practically a bark of joy. "I'm taking you on another shopping trip!" he announces, practically bouncing in place.

Draco chuckles and rolls his eyes, but there’s no hiding the grin that spreads across his face. Shopping is one of the few things he’s just as obsessed with as Sirius is—looking good is a full-time job, after all—and with Sirius, it's chaos and couture wrapped in galleons and glitter.

He runs a hand over the parchment in his lap, still a little stunned that the owl actually found him. A small, silly fear, but one that had gnawed at his chest when he first heard about the letter— what if it doesn’t get here, because of the wards? What if they don’t know where to send it? What if I don’t exist in their world anymore?

But it had. The letter came. He shakes that shadow of doubt from his head like rain off his shoulders, chasing the warmth instead.

“Can I get a wand now?” he asks, practically vibrating, and failing miserably to hide the gleam of excitement in his eyes.

Sirius lets out a fond chuckle, ruffling Draco’s hair in a way that used to earn him a glare but now just gets a half-hearted huff.
“Soon, Moonlet.” His voice is softer now, like he’s savoring the moment. “We’ll go to Ollivander’s when the time’s right. But for now—we shop.”

Draco narrows his eyes in mock suspicion. “This isn’t just about me needing more clothes, is it?”

Sirius grins like a man possessed. “Draco. It’s never just about clothes.” He stands and strikes a pose. “It’s about vibes. Aesthetic. Making the world your runway and the Ministry tremble at your fabulousness.”

Draco snorts. “You just want an excuse to try on half of Twilfitt and Tatting’s again.” Sirius clutches his chest. “How dare you accuse me of such obvious truths?” Draco leans back against the couch, grinning. “Well then. I’m in. Let’s go make the economy regret existing.”

“Moony, Can I go!” Harry interrupts, practically vibrating with excitement. His brain, finally catching up with his heart. “He is so James.” Remus mutters then says, “Yes, Button Buck you can go.” amused. “Wait, are you really going to let me go? To Hogwarts, I mean? It's actually happening, Moony!" Harry asks, jumping up and down in sheer excitement. “It’s so cute, unfortunately it's on his letter.” Remus thinks fondly exasperated “Just like his father did sorry Lils.” 

Remus, still holding back some tears of pride, then chuckles softly and says, “I would be a horrible godfather if I didn’t. Plus, James would skin me if I didn’t let you find your legacy Button Buck.” Harry rushes over and pulls him into a tight hug saying, “You’re the best Moony.”

They return home to Grimmauld from a successful shopping trip with arms full of bags laughing and joking. “It’s going to be great, styling.” Sirius reassures. “I know I know you’ve told me ten times now.” Draco groans fondly. 

“I know, I just want you to not forget that.” Sirius laughs, as they set their bags down. “Thanks Siri.” Draco says softly, before flopping onto the chaise in the still black classy Victorian living room, but now there are definitely touches of Draco and Sirius’s flare all around.

“Of course, Moonlet, that’s what I’m here for.” Sirius says buffed up chest and all. Draco just chuckles fondly. Sirius lights up at his reaction, getting all proud.

“Siri, what if I don’t get sorted into Gryffindor, like you?” Draco asks a little nervously. “Well then I guess I’m changing colors but I’lll always be a Gryffindor at heart.” Sirius teases honestly. “Ya ya Siri. I know, you are a textbook definition of a Gryffindor.” Draco says with a big smile, that definitely doesn’t exist.

“Though in all honesty, I couldn’t care less what house you're sorted into. All I care about is if you are with the people you belong with.” Sirius says all seriously, and emotionally.

“Thanks Siri.” Draco says softly looking down. Sirius’ heart melts at that and he has a goofy dopey smile. “I love you too, Moonlet.” Sirius says all mushy and pulls him into a hug.

Meanwhile in the flat across town, Harry has finally calmed down a little.

 “First things first, I think It’s time to take you to Diagon Alley. What do you think, Button Buck?” Remus asks with a smirk.

Harry’s green eyes light up, and all he can do is nod vigorously. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Harry cheers when he can finally talk. 

“Calm down, Button Buck, we aren’t going this second.” Remus says fondly exasperated.

 “Oh,” Harry says a little melancholy then bounces back like a collie. “Oh, Lily, what am I going to do with him?” Remus thinks fondly watching him go. 

Harry is too ecstatic to notice. He just says, “I’m gonna go tell Slinky.” Then he runs outside like the manic child that he is. 

“James how dare you make a carbon copy and then ditch him with me, and Lily you said we’d deal with the boys together. Though he’s now gonna be Minny's problem. I kinda feel bad, maybe I should send her a bottle of Irish coffee.” Remus thinks, watching Harry go.

Chapter Text

“Button Buck, do not say more than pleasantries to people okay, as your family is really big in the wizard world. That means people are going to act weird around you okay?” Remus asks Harry. 

“Ya ya, Moony, I know you’ve told me six times already.” Harry huffs fondly. “I know, Button buck, just stick close to me.” Remus says with a small smile, as they enter the Leaky Cauldron. 

Harry is in awe and also has a big grin because he’s in a pub for the first time. “Hey, Tom.” Remus says to the bartender. The bartender, Tom replies with a, “Lupin it has been a while, and is that Harry Potter?” All of the other patrons began to completely stare at Harry at that. 

“Yes. This is my nephew, Harry.” Remus says, gently holding Harry’s shoulder. The patrons all get up at that and make a line. The first one holds out his hand and introduces himself. Saying how thrilled they are to finally meet him. Harry is a little shell shocked, and is very thankful for Moony’s guidance. In the end Harry shakes hands, and says ‘it is nice to meet you as well’ to ten different people.

“Come on, Harry, let's go.”  Remus says gently, gesturing for Harry to follow him. Harry lets out a soft sigh, and is immediately behind Remus, totally not hiding. Tom lets out a soft chuckle. The other patrons look a little guilty, and back off. 

Remus smiles at Harry, and starts walking to the back. Harry follows like a little duckling. All of the women patrons coo, and Harry speeds up crashing into Remus. Remus asks, “You alright, Button Buck?” 

The women just about faint from all the cuteness. Harry nods, “Ya, I’m fine Moony.” “That’s good, Button Buck.” Remus says, holding the back door open. Harry goes through quickly, thankful to be away from the cooing women.

Remus closes the door careful to not mention Harry’s eagerness. “Moony, why are we in this courtyard?” Harry asks confusedly, looking around for anything interesting. “Be patient, Button Buck.” Remus warns amused, moving over to the wall. 

“Fine.” Harry whines, dragging it out. Remus huffs, and says, “Come here.” Harry comes over confused. Remus taps the brick three up, and two across from the trash can. 

“Moony, why did you do that? don’t you always tell me not to touch gross things.” Harry complains, as a whole in the wall appears and grows larger with each word. 

“Harry, My star, look.” Remus says amused. “Oh, crap he used the your being a dramatic oblivious boy nickname.” Harry thinks, and turns back to the wall which has disappeared. “Wait, what?” Harry thinks. 

“Moony, where’s the wall?” Harry asks. “Button Buck, its magic and the entrance to Diagon Alley.” Remus says holding back laughter. “Oh…” Harry says embarrassed.

A small huff escapes Remus’s lips, before he catches it. “He is such his idiot father’s son. Like I knew that he was, but seriously.” Remus thinks fondly amused.

“Alright, Bratling.” Sirius says like a drill instructor. Draco sighs, and raises an eyebrow at his guardian. Though he does set his sketchbook aside.

“It’s time for etiquette lessons, because people will use your weakness against you.” Sirius says softer. “Alright, what should I do?” Draco asks, sure Sirius has all the answers.

Sirius fully softens, and says, “Let me show you, Moonlet. First things first it is not safe to cry in front of anyone you don’t consider family. Alright?” 

“Ya. I understand.” Draco says casually, and Sirius smiles a little sadly. “Next thing is to not let anyone think that they got to you.” Sirius says snapping back to normal. 

“Oh, so like you with the lady who threatened to call CPS, because, ‘there was no way you were a fit father.’” Draco asks, saying the second part with disgust. “Yes, Moonlet, just like that though it's okay to be affected like how after we had a cuddle session, just not when they’re there.” Sirius says fondly.

“K,” Draco says, then asks, “What else?”

Meanwhile the boy who lived and his werewolf guardian enter Diagon Alley. Harry slowly ajustes to the bright chaos of the alley. Remus meanwhile just watches him fondly, patiently waiting for him to finish processing. 

There are owls everywhere. Spells crackle in the air like soda fizz. Shops overflow with things Harry doesn't have names for yet, and witches and wizards bustle around in loud robes that clash like someone let a toddler design a Crayola fashion line.

Harry’s grin is contagious, and full of wonder, as he swivels around to catch everything. “Wow, this is awesome, Moony. I want to eat and do everything!” Harry calls, beginning to bounce again.

“My Star,” Remus warns, and “ya alright I guess I can calm down,” Harry thinks. “Yeees, dearest Uncle Moony?” Harry asked, blinking up at him like he hadn’t tried to put a live Chocolate Frog in Remus’s teacup just this morning. 

“Drop the act, Button Buck, though back to the point. What did I say about eating weird things here?” Remus asks fondly exasperated. Remus just raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms, “Shoot.” Harry thinks.

“No, eating anything that you don’t say I can no matter how many say I should.” Harry pouts. “Yes, good now Button Buck, are you ready to shop?” Remus asks, amused. 

Harry immediately bounces back, and almost runs off before Remus could catch him saying, “Come on, Button Buck, this way first.” They make their way to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Harry still shaking from excitement.

“Bratling, you are ridiculously good at the Black stare.” Sirius says half fake offended half stupidly proud parent. 

“I live with you, of course I am.” Draco says like a pureblood, not even looking at Sirius too busy practising the Black glare in the mirror for the utmost time. 

“Now, are you ready for the scoff. Or do you need a break from the bullshite, and supremacy stuff? Because I wouldn't say no to a break.” Sirius says dramatically draped over the chaise, basking in the bit of sunlight. 

“Lunch. Also I know, and no we are going out. I'm not dealing with the mess (the you’ll make part doesn’t even need to be said).” Draco says, finally dragging his eyes from the mirror to look Sirius over fondly, though annoyed. 

They sit in an old worn out booth across from each other. With two low class menus on the table in front of them. The waitress, maybe Kara or was it Carla (Draco couldn’t remember) had dropped their drinks off just moments prior. 

Sirius was sipping his Cherry-Cola, while flipping through the menu. Draco decides that he should probably take a sip of his ice tea at that. Draco takes a sip of his iced tea, then flips open his menu before Sirius can decide for him. 

In the end Sirius orders a steak, and Draco orders chicken spaghetti. The food is pretty decent and they get at least one refill on their drinks before the meal is over. They leave the diner full and satisfied. 

A perfect ending to a manners lesson in Sirius’s opinion.

Harry’s eyes are the size of dinner plates, when he sees the size of Gringotts. “Holy, Merlin.” Harry gasps. “Language, Button Buck,” Remus warns naturally. 

“But, MOOOONNYY” Harry whines gesturing to the building in front of them. “Button Buck, just because it surprises you doesn’t mean it makes it so that it is fine for your 11 year oldness to swear.” Remus says, far too amused for Harry to take him seriously. 

They collect gold from the Potter’s vault, because Remus is sure Jame and Lily would kill him if he didn’t use their money on their kid. Harry is rightfully shocked about how much money he has. 

Remus then has to tell him that he can't just fill all of his pockets, and pretend to be a looting pirate. Even though, as Harry continued to say "it would be so cool”, because, “It will get lost, be super heavy and be uncomfortable, Button Buck.” 

“Ya ya, Moony.” Harry thinks, disappointed, as they leave. Once they are back on the Alley they make their way to Flourish and Blotts. Harry sighs when he realises it's a bookstore. They buy the books, and Remus only spends 15 minutes browsing.  “So there is a chance for survival.” Harry thinks.

When Remus is finally finished they make their way to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and enjoy a sweet treat as the sun sets wrapping up their trip to Diagon Alley. They go back the way they came through the Leaky Caldron. They then head home to their cozy hot coco smelling flat.

Chapter Text

“Strayling! The time has come!” Sirius shouted as he burst into the living room, socks skidding across the floor like a man on a very specific mission.

 “To get your wand!” he declared, just before nearly face planting as the flooring changed beneath him.

“Bloody Black floor!” Sirius cursed, catching himself, against the elegant wooden wall.

“I said you’d slip,” Draco naturally says, not even stopping sketching Sirius’s animagus form under a full moon. 

“Ya ya,” Sirius groans. 

“Wait—what did you just say?” Draco asked, pausing his sketch with a raised brow.

“I said ‘ya ya,’ Strayling,” Sirius replied, head tilted like a confused dog.

“No, before that Siri.” Draco sighs. “Oh, that it’s time to get you a wand?” Sirius asks, then immediately goes back to hyper puppy mode.

“Ya that,”- Draco blinked.-“Are you—” Draco froze, saw the grin, and immediately backtracked. “Nope. Not worth the pun.”

“Of course I’m serious, Moonlet.” Sirius grinned wider. “I sorted it all out—we’re going to Diagon Alley!” His voice pitched up with each word until he was practically bouncing.

They used the Floo Network. It went surprisingly well given it was Sirius being the only adult and Draco’s first time.  They arrived in one piece at Diagon Alley, which Sirius promptly declared a “victory for responsible parenting!”

Draco immediately drags Sirius towards Ollivanders™ Wand Shop.   Super excited to get a wand just like Sirius, though trying to hide it. Sirius is just as excited though trying to hold back, as to not make Draco self-conscious. 

“Alright, Button Buck, let’s go get you a wand.” Remus sighs standing in the living room, as Harry kills some alien on the screen. 

He is already regretting having to get Harry a wand so soon. Though they only have a few weeks till he’ll be Minny’s problem so he can deal with it. 

“Really, Moony, really?” Harry asks, bouncing around like a Button Buck. Abandoning his video game. A huge smile taking up his face.

“No, Harry, I lied. Of course really, though you have to promise to not use it much before you get to Hogwarts alright.” Moony says fondly exasperated, taking another drink of his totally not irish coffee. 

“Yes, I can’t wait, can we go to the Quidditch store while we’re there?” Harry asks, already running off to go tell his snake friends cackling away, before Remus could even answer. 

Remus just fondly chuckles, and wishes Minny good luck. “I should probably send her a bottle of Irish coffee with him.” He thinks as an afterthought.

The bell above the door gave a timid jingle as Draco and Sirius stepped into Ollivanders™ Wand Shop , the smell of dust and old wood curling around them like forgotten magic.

Draco stepped in first, posture stiff but eyes wide, his fingers twitching at his sides. He pretended not to notice how Sirius hovered behind him like a proud, excitable shadow.

“Ah. Mr. Black.” A voice drifted from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Draco froze.

“The younger.” The voice added, and suddenly, Garrick Ollivander emerged from the darkness like a crypt keeper who had just crawled out of a wand box. His silver eyes fixed on Draco in a way that felt a bit too knowing, like he was seeing under his skin.

“I remember every wand I have ever sold,” Ollivander murmured, turning his gaze to Sirius. “And your second wand is still serving you well, I trust? Yew, twelve inches, phoenix feather… a wand for reinvention.”

Sirius gave an uncomfortable shrug. “Still dramatic as ever.”
“Wands often reflect their masters,” Ollivander murmured. He turned abruptly back to Draco. “Let’s find yours, shall we?” He swept down the aisle like a bat in a dressing gown and began pulling boxes with eerie precision.

“Try this. Beechwood and unicorn hair. Ten inches. Supple.”

Draco took it, gave it a test flick, and immediately a stack of wand boxes exploded off a nearby shelf.

“Nope,” Sirius and Ollivander said in unison.

Two more wands tried and failed. One set fire to a dusty curtain. Another made a sound that can only be described as a haunted kazoo .

Then Ollivander paused, hand hovering over a box tucked away near the top.

“Ah. Yes. Curious. Very curious...”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You always say that?”

Ollivander didn’t answer. He held the box out like it contained a relic from the end of the world.

“Blackthorn. Eleven and three-quarters inches. Thestral tail hair core.”

Sirius blinked. “That’s... a little intense for a first wand.”

“So is the boy,” Ollivander said mildly.

Draco took the wand.

The moment his fingers closed around the blackthorn handle, it felt like lightning ran down his spine. Cool, sharp, ancient. A thrum like a heartbeat pulsed through his hand. Not just power— recognition .

A soft wind stirred the dust in the shop, and a light sparked at the wand’s tip.

Ollivander stared. “Oh yes. Yes, that will do.” He turned to Sirius, eyes narrowed. “A wand for one who understands loyalty only once it’s earned—and would kill to keep it.”

Draco didn’t smile. Not outwardly. But his grip tightened just slightly.

Sirius watched him with quiet pride and just the tiniest pinch of worry. “His Moonlet reminded him far too much of himself, he’ll have to make sure he doesn’t make the same mistakes.”

“Well,” Draco finally said. “I suppose it'll do.”

The bell above the door gave a silvery chime as Harry stepped into Ollivanders™, trailing a slightly frazzled Remus Lupin behind him. The shop was dim and dusty and smelled like old parchment and forest floor after rain. Wand boxes were stacked to the ceiling in precarious towers. It was the sort of place that felt like it had been waiting for Harry for a long time.

“Whoa,” Harry whispered. “It’s like a wizard library, but for... sticks.”

“They're wands,” Remus muttered, already regretting this errand. “Try not to insult them.”

From somewhere in the back, a voice drifted forward like a memory given breath.

“Ah... Mr. Potter.”

 Harry stiffened as Garrick Ollivander emerged from the shadows like he’d been built from them. His silver eyes landed not on Harry, but on Remus.

“And Mr. Lupin. It has been... quite a while.”

“Garrick,” Remus nodded, guarded, but polite.

Ollivander turned to Harry, expression unreadable. “Yes... yes. I thought this day might come. A wand for the Boy Who Lived. Though I daresay that is the least interesting thing about you.”

Harry squinted. “Okay... creepy.”

Remus stifled a laugh into his sleeve.

Ollivander glided past them, fingers ghosting over boxes before pulling one down seemingly at random.

“Try this. Hawthorn and dragon heartstring, quite loyal but temperamental.”

Harry gave it a flick. A shelf exploded.

Remus ducked, hair full of ash. “Lovely start.”

“Hmm,” Ollivander said, not looking remotely surprised.

Three more wands rejected him. One made the ceiling groan, another triggered the firewhiskey in Remus’s coat to combust (he claimed it was just tea , but Harry wasn’t buying it). And then—

“Ah,” Ollivander breathed.  “Alder wood. Ten and a quarter inches. Supple. A wand for someone with hidden fire. A wand of protection—though it would never say so out loud.”
He looked directly at Remus. “The same length as Mrs Evan Potter’s.”

Remus froze. Just for a second. A stutter in his breath.
Harry didn’t notice—too busy reaching out.

The moment Harry touched the wand, something shifted.
It felt like slipping into warm sunlight. The handle fit his fingers like it had been carved for him and him alone. A gentle breeze stirred the musty air. The tip glowed faintly—not a spark, not a blast, just a steady golden shimmer like a candle remembering its purpose.

Remus swallowed hard. His fingers curled into fists.

“Oh, yes,” Ollivander whispered, almost reverently. “A wand for one who will protect even when it hurts. Alder does not serve the cruel or cowardly. And phoenix feather… well. That, we already know, is a connection forged by fate.”

Harry smiled softly. “I like it.”

“It likes you too, Mr. Potter.” Ollivander replied. “You’ll do great things, Mr. Potter.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell him that. His head’s already too big.”

“I’m literally right here, Moony,” Harry said, grinning. “And my head fits through, doorways just fine, thanks.”

Remus softened, brushing a hand through Harry’s hair as if to ground himself. “I know.”

He said it quietly. Like a prayer.
Because she would’ve been here.
Because James would’ve joked about it.
Because Remus should’ve never had to do this alone.

But he had. And now… here they were.

Remus blinked hard, jaw tight. He cleared his throat and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“You’ve got your wand, Button Buck,” he said quietly. “You’re ready now.”

Harry didn’t say anything, just gave Remus a lopsided smile and held the wand up like a knight raising his sword.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks were even more chaotic than usual, with both Sirius and Remus doing everything they could to get their boys ready for Hogwarts.

There were the final trips to Diagon Alley—books and robes and owl treats, last-minute wand polish, and either Remus muttering over parchment lists, or Sirius dramatically arguing with a clerk about whether Draco needed dragonhide gloves “for the aesthetic.” 

(Sirius somehow won)

Then came the etiquette drills, and Hogwarts culture lessons. Each man had their own approach, of course—Sirius taught Draco how to be a proper pureblood without the poison, all sharp grace and strategic charm. 

Meanwhile Remus reminded Harry that he didn’t need to be great because of a prophecy. As well as teaching him the Hogwarts rules, because if you don’t want to follow them you should at least know how to work around them. 

By the time the train ride was only a night away, the boys were packed, prepped, and wide-eyed. And the adults—well, they were as ready as they were ever going to be.

The morning sky was still more navy than blue when they arrived—too early even for the early Muggle rush. Sirius parked Elvendork down the block, tucked into shadow, and pulled the glamour charms tight one last time. 3

Draco watched, quiet for once. He hated the glamour. Not because it was poorly cast—Sirius was annoyingly good at it—but because it wasn’t him . It softened him in weird ways. Blurred the bones of his face. Shifted his walk. It was a stranger pretending to be his Siri, and Draco hated strangers.

Sirius caught his stare in the reflection of a closed shop window.

"Hey," he said, low and rough and Siri again. Draco thought, scowling. Even if his face still wasn’t. 

"I know. I'm gonna drop it the second we're out of sight."

Draco didn’t answer. Just nodded, though he kept his chin a bit too high.

They slipped into the station mostly unnoticed, skimming along the edges like ghosts. Sirius guided him with a hand lightly at his back, not holding on, not hovering—just there . Enough.

When they reached the barrier, the platform wasn’t open yet. A bored-looking station attendant leaned against the wall, flipping through a magazine. 

Sirius tilted his head, glanced around, and murmured, “Alright, we’ve got about ten minutes before the other kids start taking over. Glamour is coming off now, Moonlet."

Draco turned to face him fully.

“You sure?” Draco asked, voice quiet. Sirius didn’t answer—just dragged a hand through his hair, muttered the counterspell, and in one fluid shimmer, he was back .

Too-bright eyes, and that look like he’d been up all night again—but still Siri. Still his .

"Much better," Draco said quietly.

Sirius ruffled his hair.Draco scowled and immediately began smoothing it with the intensity of a boy preparing for a duel.

“Hey. C’mon, look at me.” Sirius crouched a bit so he was eye level. “I know it’s early, and I know I’m technically not allowed to punch any eleven-year-olds on your behalf today, but I’ve taught you what you need, yeah?”

Draco didn’t speak right away. Then, "You told me how to spot the snakes pretending to be lions. How to survive in the snake pit.  And how to hex with subtlety. So. Yes."

Sirius smiled—only a little—but it reached his eyes. “That’s my Moonlet.”

There was a pause. One of those ones that pressed in at the edges like fog.

“I’m going to miss you,” Sirius said softly.

Draco blinked hard, and then very decisively rolled his eyes. “Oh no. Don’t get sappy, it’s far too early for that. And I will not cry off my eyeliner.”

“Wouldn’t dare.” Sirius held up both hands. “You look terrifying, I promise.”

They stood there a minute longer. Then the sound of voices down the corridor snapped the moment.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Alright. We’ve got maybe three minutes before this place is crawling. Let’s get you through the wall, Moonlet. Platform 9 ¾, and Hogwarts awaits.”

Chapter Text

“Button Buck you cannot see over that. Slow down.” Remus calls, holding Hedwig's cage as Harry pushes the trolley. The station was busy, but thankfully they got here before the rush. 

“Just a little longer than I can pass him to Molly and Arthur’s middle kids—I think. It’s been too long. I’m so lucky, that they were willing to have their kids help Harry. Merlin knows he’ll need it.” Remus thinks, already exhausted and the sun hasn’t even fully risen.

“Moony…” Harry whines again. 

“Wait again! Shoot I must have got stuck in my head.” Remus thinks, saying “Yes, Button Buck?” 

“Finally, Moony, you were ignoring me foreverrrr. Now who are we looking for again?” Harry asks. 

“The Weasley's, Button Buck, remember.” Remus says, amused looking around for their signature ginger hair. The station still wasn’t too busy yet, luckily, but he’d like to find them before it is.

“Oh. Right, Moony.” Harry says practically bouncing with excitement, oh wait no he totally is bouncing with excitement. 

Remus lets out a found chuckle before finding the multiple redheads in the crowd, and beelining it towards them. They weren’t late—yet—but he couldn’t afford to lose sight of them for even a minute.

Harry obediently follows whining that ‘Moony had tried to leave him.’ Merlin sometimes this boy really was just Padfoot. 

As Remus and Harry moved through the crowd, the chaos of King’s Cross Station buzzed around them like a swarm of winged keys. But Remus’s sharp eyes locked onto a familiar flash of vibrant ginger weaving through the haze.

“There,” he said, nodding toward the unmistakable Weasley flare. “Redheads, herding children, slightly harassed aura—that’s them, Button Buck.”

Harry squinted. “They look like a walking bonfire.”

Remus let out a low laugh. “Exactly. Now stay close. The morning rush has started.”

“I always stay close, Moony,” Harry said, only to immediately get distracted by a cart full of Bertie Bott’s beans rolling by. “Ooooh— never mind , beans.”

Remus grabbed the back of his hoodie.

“Moony!” Harry whined, nearly toppling the trolley in protest. “You’re tugging the fit !”

“You were about to chase sugar into traffic.”

“It was the rare ones, Moony—the ones that sparkle !”

Remus closed his eyes. “That doesn’t make it better , Button Buck.”

“But Moonnyyy…” Harry whines.

“No, Button Buck, how about we go meet your new friends instead.” Remus interrupts tiredly.

Immediately Harry bolts saying, “Here I come, Red Heads of Destiny!”

As they got closer, Molly Weasley’s voice rang out like a dinner bell mid-battle.

“Fred! George! I will hex your socks off if I see one more bloody self-walking trunk—”

“Language, Mum!” Fred (or maybe George) cackled.

“Those two,” Remus muttered, “are going to be a problem.”

“I love them already,” Harry said with a grin so wide it was illegal.

A tall boy with a perfect badge and an impressive air of responsibility spotted them. “Harry Potter! I’m Percy Weasley—prefect. Mum said to be on the lookout.” He nodded politely to Remus. “Sir.”

“Remus, please,” he replied tiredly, shaking Percy’s hand. “Good to see you again, Molly.”

“Oh, Remus,” Molly coos, wrapping him in a crushing hug like they hadn’t seen each other since the last war council. “And look at this one ! Harry Potter— my word. ”

Harry beamed up at her. “That’s me. Probably.”

She laughed and brushed a bit of lint off his jumper like she already claimed him.

“You’ve got your father’s hair,” she murmured, “and your mother’s—”

“—kickass attitude? Yeah, I’ve heard.” Harry smirked.

Molly blinked, then cackled. “Oh, Merlin, help us.”

“Language,” Remus muttered. Tired. Fond.

Before Harry could make another joke, a blur of energy and red hair launched toward him.

“HiI’mGinnyandyou’reHarryPotterandcanIseeyourwand?!”

Harry blinked. “...Should I be flattered or slightly alarmed?”

Ginny squeaked, turned beet red, and vanished behind the twins like a ghost with a mission.

Fred (probably) gave him an approving nod. “Handled like a champ.”

George (definitely) added, “Didn’t even flinch. You sure you’re eleven?”

“Emotionally? Probably like thirty-five,” Harry said with a completely straight face.

Remus just sighs, holding his face, hiding his amusement.

Ron sidled up, clearly weighing whether it was worth speaking. “I’m Ron.”

“I figured.” Harry looked him over. “You’ve got the ‘reluctant protagonist energy’ down pat.”

Ron blinked. “...What?”

“I like you,” Harry said brightly. “Let’s be friends.”

“Oh,” Ron said, half-relieved, half-overwhelmed. “Cool.”

Remus, standing behind him holding Hedwig’s cage and a thousand parental concerns, finally let himself smile.

Because his Button Buck just charmed an entire crowd of strangers in under five minutes.

Just like his father.

“All right off you all go. Boys stick together.” Molly says, shooing the boys off, as the warning bell goes for the Hogwarts Express.

Draco walks past compartment after compartment, each filled with noisy clumps of older kids, or younger ones tucked in between the older ones.  

He keeps his chin lifted, gaze steady, just like Sirius taught him. Let them stare—he’s a Black, and Blacks don’t flinch.

By the time he reaches the last compartment he is concerned that he will be stuck with a noisy group of friends. But when he slides open the door, there’s only one boy inside—curled in the corner with a dark purple book, probably his age judging by his size.

“Is this seat free?” Draco asks the sandy blonde boy, with eyes almost as dark as his own. 

Though the boy’s eyes were blue instead of gray. 

The boy sitting on the bench looks up from his book and asks, “Are you talking to me?” 

“Well, is there anyone else in this compartment?” Draco asks him unamused, taking in the vast amount of freckles covering the boy’s cheeks. 

“No. I guess not. And since no one else is here, you might as well. I am Areon Selwyn." The boy Areon says, completely unbothered, and just barely polite. 

“Just polite enough that Draco can’t call him a prat without sounding like one. Infuriating. No—interesting. Unfortunately.” Draco thinks, as he purposely and refinely sits on the bench across from him. 

Areon was already back in his book— The Nightshade Guide to Necromancy, Draco noted. He’d read it before (it was decent), but buried in the darker corners of the manor library, spines that whispered if you listened too long. So definitely not your average read.

“Selwyn, huh. That name scratched at something deep in the manor archives. He’d write to Siri—ask what the family Black had on them. And if Sirius laughed? Even better." 

After a few minutes of silence—meant to make Draco crack—Areon is the one who folds first.

He sets his book down, and looks the other over. “Just who is this boy?” He wonders. 

He takes in the boy's pale blonde hair and skin. Also his sharp cheek and jaw bones, before landing on his dark gray eyes. Eyes cold and cutting—just like his own, only gray instead of blue.

“You know it’s rude to not introduce yourself.” Areon says, trying to seem uninterested. 

“I’m Draco. Draco Black,” he replies, holding out his hand with a smirk sharp enough to slice through Occlumency wards.

Everything freezes: the air, the magic and most importantly the Selywn.

Chapter Text

Harry and Ron split from Percy, Fred and George, once they get to Hogwarts. Joining the rest of the first years and Hagrid by the lake. Harry finds Trevor, and they get on the boats. Once they finish their boat ride, and are in Hogwarts, they are taken to a room to wait. 

“Well this is anticlimated.” Harry says, unamused. 

“This is just the first step, of course not all of this will be fun, what did you expect?” Hermione states his comment having distracted her from her rant about dress code violations directed at the messy Ron. 

Harry wasn’t quite sure why he’d already mentally added her to his little ‘Marauders’ group. Maybe it was her concern for Neville’s toad, or how she kept them all in line, but she reminds him of Moony.

“Ya ya,” Harry sighs, finally releasing that she's waiting for an answer. Ron is just giving him a thankful smile from behind Hermione.

That smile made Harry realise well I guess I’m stuck with both of them. Two down, two more to go. 

Before Hermione can get more than a breath in, someone walks over. 

Hermione stiffens. Ron mutters something about “ruddy posh ghosts,” and Harry? He just tilts his head.

Harry squinted. “Well he looks like he bites.”

“I do,” the boy said dryly, without missing a beat. “But only people with no taste.” His eyes glaze over Ron with mild disgust at that.

The room went dead silent.

Ron mumbled something about ‘bloody hell’ under his breath. Hermione looked personally offended on behalf of the entire school system. Harry? Harry just grinned dark and testy. Then, ever the menace, he took a step forward. 

“I’m Harry,” he said, as easy and reckless as breathing. “Harry Potter.” 

It sounded like a threat and a welcome. The room shuddered.

That made something flicker in the boy’s eyes.

Not shock—he was too guarded for that—but recognition, maybe. Calculation. 

He didn’t glance at the scar, which made him instantly more interesting. 

“Draco Black,” he replied, voice low and smooth like a spell you weren’t supposed to hear.

There’s a beat—just one—and it crackles like a held breath between them.

Harry doesn't flinch. He grins instead, the kind of grin that makes trouble feel like an invitation. “Cool name,” he says, like it isn’t ancient and heavy with legacy. “Sounds like you were named to either inherit a cursed mansion or die dramatically in a novel.”

Draco tilts his head, brow lifting just a hair. “You’re funny,” he says, like he didn’t expect to be amused. Like being amused is a rare inconvenience. 

 Harry realises Draco hadn’t corrected him. Huh? That’s interesting. “I try,” Harry shrugs. “Helps with the trauma.” 

That actually makes Draco smile. Just a little. A sliver of something wry and wolfish. 

“Whatever,” Draco says, and it’s so offhand that it should be rude—but somehow, it lands soft. 

Then he finally turns to Ron.

 “You must be a stray.” 

Ron’s face does a complicated thing—half scowl, half pride. “If I’m a stray, what’s that make you?” 

Draco’s smile sharpens, but there’s something bored behind it. “Housebroken, obviously. I can actually dress myself.” 

Areon whispers, “Dear diary, I have seen the beginning of either a disaster or the greatest enemies-to-besties saga of our time. I’ll update accordingly.” 

Harry's eyes widen, and he looks like he might just sock Draco. 

Hermione meanwhile looks like she’s buffering. 

Before she can reboot, and tell him off, Professor McGonagall walks in, stern and sweeping, and tells them all to line up. 

Harry falls into step beside Draco without thinking. Ron groans but follows. Areon strolls behind them like he’s watching a soap opera in real-time.

Them and the rest of the first years follow Minerva in a single-file into the Great Hall, nerves practically seeping from their too big robes. Candles floated overhead like stars caught mid-wish, and the ceiling shimmered with a dark velvet sky.

Harry’s breath caught. He’d never seen anything like it.

He didn’t even notice the stares. The whispers. The name falling from people’s lips like they were testing the legend in real time.

Chapter Text

Professor McGonagall unrolled a long parchment, and the Sorting Hat—old, worn, and smug as hell—broke into song. Harry missed half the lyrics, too busy trying to stop his knees from vibrating.

Then she spoke again, and started calling the names.

Abbott, Hannah —Hufflepuff.

Bones, Susan —Hufflepuff.

Brown, Lavender —Gryffindor.

Then—

"Black, Draco."

Whispers. Some gasps. A sharp silence undercut the chatter. That surname didn’t walk into rooms without dragging its history behind it.

Harry, though, was intrigued. That was the sharp-eyed boy from the waiting room.”

Draco didn’t flinch. He walked with precision—poised and proud, chin up like Sirius had drilled into him. He sat with practiced grace, eyes steady, and the hat dropped onto his head like a crown.

“Oh,” it said, amused and almost purring. “What do we have here? Cunning, ambition, but also pain… so much pain stitched into your spine it’s practically part of your wand core. But clever. Loyal to those few you do choose. Mmm. A sharp mind wrapped in old wounds and new freedom. I know where you’ll thrive.”

Draco’s pulse ticked once. Slytherin, right? he asked, without fear, only a faint flicker of hesitation.

“You’d do well there, child. You’d lead. ”

Draco nodded once, nearly imperceptible.

“Slytherin!” The hat boomed.

The table erupted into applause. Draco slipped from the stool like he’d expected it all along and made his way to the green and silver table, spine straight and breath steady.

Finally, it was Harry’s turn.

He sat on the stool, heart pounding loud enough he was sure everyone could hear. The hat slipped over his eyes, and a voice echoed in his mind—old and worn, full of secrets.

Ah...Yes, another Potter. Brave, yes. Determined. This boy’s heart is with Gryffindor.

The hat’s voice burst out loud enough to startle everyone.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Cheers erupted. Harry pulled the hat off, smiling wide. He caught Draco’s eyes across the hall—gray and green, calm but something softer.

The sorting continues like normal till Minerva calls Selywn, Areon-

The students quiet down, as the sorting hat just sits there on his head unmoving. It stays like that for at least ten minutes before quietly calling out Slytherin.

 Minerva removes the hat and Areon walks towards the Slytherin table, as things go back to normal.

Harry, though was now intrigued with the boy, Areon, he’d have to remember that. 

The feast goes by quickly not giving him much time to think or maybe talk with Draco or Areon. Before he even thinks of it again, they are already being ushered out and to their common rooms.

Harry couldn’t stop looking.

Every staircase moved. Every portrait breathed. Every window whispered with wind even when it was closed.

He grinned like he’d just won something, heart fluttering in his chest like Hedwig with the window open. The common room portrait door opened with a password and a little sigh of welcome.   

Harry stepped inside with the sort of awe usually reserved for rare chocolate frogs or stories about his dad.

The fireplace roared to life as if to say you’re home, and the chairs sort of puffed their cushions out just as he passed.

“Whoa,” Harry whispered, spinning slowly as students filed past him. “This place is alive. ”

He trailed his fingers along the wood, over the stone, until Ron huffed beside him. “It’s just a tower.”

Harry just grinned at him, bouncing once on the balls of his feet. “It’s magic, Ron.”

“…Yeah,” Ron said, then paused. “Alright, it is pretty sick.”

Meanwhile, in her quarters, Minerva uncorked the bottle of Irish coffee Remus had sent with a long, exhausted sigh.
“This is going to be a very long school year,” she muttered.

“It’ll be fine, Min,” Poppy said, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she wrapped her arms around her wife.

Minerva handed her a drink with a huff of reluctant amusement.
“Yeah, I know, Mo Anam Cara .”

Poppy raised her cup, curious. “This from Remus?”

“Yes. From your baby, Mo Anam Cara ,” Minerva mumbled, already leaning back into her wife’s touch like the cat she was.

Draco said nothing as he and Areon followed the prefect along with the others through the cold, damp corridors, deep into the belly of the castle. Everything smelled like moss and age and secrets.

The stone walls were lined with green fire torches. The deeper they went, the heavier the air felt. The older students didn’t flinch—they’d done this before. The younger ones were already shivering.

When the wall shifted open at the prefect’s password—"Serpensomnia"—Draco felt it.

The room was too aware.
It prickled along his spine. It wanted something. No—it wanted to remind him what it was.

Ancient. Powerful. Designed to strip you bare and decide if you were strong enough to stay.

The younger students stepped in and immediately flinched. A few whimpered. One actually gagged, hand pressed to her chest like she couldn’t breathe.

It was like walking into magic that didn’t like you.

Draco didn’t stop. Didn’t even flinch.

He just stepped in, let the door seal behind him with a shunk, and blinked once.

Then, when that twisting ancient force surged forward, its claws dipped in illness and cold—

He told it, simply and clearly:
“No.”

The room shuddered.

The cold retreated, sliding off his shoulders like rain off enchanted leather. His boots hit the floor and the floor warmed to meet him. The green flames bent toward him—not in deference, but in recognition.

This one knows his name, the castle seemed to say. This one knows where he walks.

The silence was deafening. The older students had gone still. The younger ones stared.

Draco gave the room one more glance. The walls didn’t press on his chest. His head didn’t swim. He could breathe like he was still above ground.

He arched an eyebrow and smirked, perfectly dry.

“Bit dramatic, aren’t you” he told the dungeon, unimpressed.

And then he walked to the farthest, best chair by the fire and sat like he belonged there. Because he did.

Areon followed him in immediately, unfazed. He’d heard the stories about the Blacks, and this one was clearly every bit the legend, Areon was a Selwyn. 

“Did the prince of drama just tell something ‘it was dramatic'?” Areon drawled, cocking an eyebrow. Sitting down just close enough to be annoying, but fair enough that Draco can’t call him out.

The room freezes again and Draco opens his mouth like he’s gonna curse the stupid boy. 

The older kids look away, and some of the third years look like they might cry, the boy though just continues to smirk.

Draco doesn’t curse him. Surprisingly he just closes his mouth, and looks annoyed knowing he can't defend himself on this one.

Areon just continues to smirk knowing that Draco knows that he knows that he has no defense. Then he pulls out his book and begins reading.

Meanwhile across the country, Barty is wondering why he’s even alive. His life is one big joke. He had a shitty childhood, found friends and an amazing boyfriend joined the darkside for them and then they went and died leaving him alone in Azkaban. 

Well until Sirius, but he left which was good, and he ended up leaving too. Though his escape wasn’t so nice because now he’s stuck with his dad again. 

The first thing Barty Jr hears other than his father and house elves in three years is the roar of a motorcycle. Before he can even question it a familiar voice calls out, “Hey fucker”, as he kicks in the door. 

"Fucking Sirius," Barty mutters, though before he can react, Sirius's fist connects with his jaw.

Barty Sr. freezes braced for a fight, but Barty just groans out, “Ouch, asshole.”

“I’ve waited 12 bloody years for that. That’s what you get for fucking stealling My Moony,” Sirius spits, fixing his hair. 

“Fair. Not my fault you fumbled him and I scored. He’s such a great f—” Smack. Barty says. Sirius hits him again the git.

(Sirius looks so much better than he did, and Barty understood why he didn’t break him out. What he doesn’t understand is what Sirius is doing here now.)

“And that was for not fucking coming to me durning the war.”-Sirius wipes his hand against his black jeans. “It would have saved a lot.” Sirius says and sighs.

“Careful, Black. Hit me again and I might start thinking you missed me.” Barty snarks back.

 Anyways let's go. It was a bitch to find you, after I was able to start looking.” Sirius says unable and unwilling to come up with a good argument, his other wand still pointed at Barty Sr. 

“I told you before, stop being such a bloody Gryffindor .” Barty Jr says, rubbing his cheek. 

“Like I’d listen to you. You slimy snake.” Sirius replies, tossing one of Barty’s old shirts at him. 

“That insult was weak Black. You're losing your touch.” Barty says back, slipping the shirt on and grabbing his wand from Barty Sr, who was still frozen in shock. Though Barty wasn’t mad he was kinda happy not that he would ever say so, that Sirius was just treating him like he did before. 

“Ya ya, well you’re still just a stuck up slytherin prat,” Sirius says looking away.

“Also you seriously have been waiting from before we were even locked up and still when you were out just to sock me for shagging your not even boyfriend at the time.” Barty asks, actually smiling for the first time in years.

Chapter Text

“ Mo Anam Cara, I made tea.” Minerva says softly, two mugs of tea floating beside her, as she gently tries to wake her wife. 

It was five thirty in the morning. The sun had not even begun to show but the show must begin. 

The first day was always the hardest of the school year (Remus’s peace offering just lowered her expectations), but seeing her beautiful wife and waking her up made everything feel possible. 

“Morning, Min, thanks.” Poppy says, stretching and grabbing one of the floating mugs. 

The tea was of course Lavender Earl Grey, her favourite. Min even remembered the oat milk and honey, the fact makes her smile.

Minerva just keeps taking in the love of her life as she drinks, though one look from Poppy and she’s grabbing her tea as well, and joining her amazing wife. 

“The show does not have to start right, right now.” Minerva thinks.    

The alarm clock says 6:00 A.M., but Areon Selwyn is already awake as the alarm goes off. 

He is a Selwyn of course he is an alarm does not wake him it is simply protocol to get up with the alarm. 

It’s mechanical, practiced, exact.  

He moves like a ghost first his bed is made, then when he comes back to himself he’s stepping into the shower. He shampoos his hair and next thing he remembers is turning off the faucet perfectly clean. Next is hair then make up, blank, hair perfect and full face ready with the next look in the mirror. 

His clothes are laid out on his perfectly made bed like always, when he leaves the bathroom. Next thing clothes are on, and book in hand. 

The morning is complete now he has exactly 26.5 minutes to be him.

An alarm rings briefly at exactly a quarter past six, fourty-five minutes before the recommended wake up time. The alarm is quickly turned off by an annoyed Draco. Who still looked ridiculously pretty in the pale morning light. 

He rises from his sheets in his black silk pjs, with a quiet dramatic groan. He removes his bonnet and, with a face full of royal disdain, stares at the drooling boy across the room. 

Draco’s hair is so shiny that it’s almost glowing giving him an ethereal look, but his expression ruins the angel look. 

He then turns, and sees Areon sprawled out on his bed annotating his book peacefully. 

His eyebrow raises, and he wonders what type of insane and stupid you would need to be to subject yourself to the torture of waking up, at whatever unholy time he must have. 

Instead of asking Areon, Draco moves to the bathroom perfectly fine to get ready, and not deal with people at this unholy hour. 

“Ron! Come on, it's time to wake up! Hogwarts is waiting!” Harry exclaims, violently shaking a confused and shocked Ron awake. 

“What?” Ron croaked. Face one of utter disorientation and betrayal. The world spins around him. He can barely make anything out in the sparse sunlight. Most of the others seem to be asleep, so why wasn’t he?

“Oh, Sorry.” Harry mutters apologetically, letting go of Ron and rubbing the back of his neck. 

 “At least he seems sorry,” Ron thinks, head still spinning.

“Thank you, now what time is it exactly?” Ron asks, taking a deep breath, as he finally got a handle on the situation.  He watches as Harry’s face lights up, and then falls. Ron sighs at that wishing he could still be asleep.

“Um, I actually do not know, I just woke up .” Harry says not looking Ron in the eyes. 

“Of course, I can’t let him and the twins become friends, too much chaos" he muttered—too quietly to be understood, glancing at the clock—6:55. Bloody hell. He could’ve had five more minutes. Still… at least he has a friend now.” 

Areon watches the other kids wake up, from his perch on his bed. A cup of black tea in one hand, and a book ( The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts) in the other. 

“The clock says 7:05 A.M, and these pansies aren’t even dressed.” He thinks, judging over his tea.

Black was already dressed—hair just as perfect as yesterday. 

The prick. 

He finished a facemask exactly 11 minutes ago, not that Areon was giving the Black any attention. 

Nope. 

Black takes a sip of his tea, and Areon totally isn’t impressed that he also managed that level of magic at this age and level of inexperience.

(Hey, missed my commentary? Ya sorry you want the fic, but please note Areon’s complete “Siriusness”.)

“When did you wake up?” an Italian boy, Zabini, if Areon remembered correctly. Which of course he did, he's a Selwyn. 

“I woke up at 6:00 A.M, like every self-disciplined wizard.” Areon says, casually and coldly.  

Zabini is flabbergasted and mutters things about demons, though he does leave and starts to get ready. 

Draco watched slightly amused as Blaise- probably anyway-walked over to Areon. 

The audacity of the boy to straight up ask the I-dare-you-to-even-look-at-me Areon, when he woke up, almost surprised Draco. 

The answer disgusted him though, honestly what bloody inhumane creature wakes up at that time. 

Draco was halfway to just getting up and telling Mr 6 o’clock off for it, but his tea would go cold and he doesn’t want to speak yet. 

Instead of teaching Mr 6 o’clock a lesson Draco pulls out his art pad. 

The Gryffindor common room was mainly empty except for students passing by on their way to the main hall for breakfast, and a few like Hermione that were waiting on others. She had been down there sitting by the fireplace waiting for her boys for ten minutes.  

She checks the clock, 7:25 it reads.

“If they aren’t down in four minutes I’m leaving them,” she thinks, before returning to her book ( The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 ) . The seconds tick by, as the sun fully rises. She’s only halfway through the chapter on proper hand movement, when she hears a door slam open.

By the time she shuts her book an excited golden retriever Harry had dragged a slightly more awake Ron up to her. 

“Come on Hogwarts is waiting!” Harry calls and bounds off leaving the messy tired Ron with Hermione.

Minerva was starting to regret leaving her wife and their bed. 

The first day was always the hardest, but when Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter (-Lupin) and Mr Longbottom entered the hall chasing a fog and arguing she knew it was gonna be a long year. 

Unfortunately Miss Granger, is the supposed voice of reason.  She was too busy yelling at Mr Weasley about his uniform to try, and control Mr Potter who was now diving for the frog though. Poor Mr Longbottom looked terrified though, as Mr Weasley started yelling at Miss Granger and Mr Potter wrestled a frog.

“I’m not ready for Marauders point two.” Minerva cried silently. Hand already pinching her nose from muscle memory alone. She goes to stand up, but a new entrance stops her.

Chapter Text

Draco Black slammed open the door on instinct, and everyone freezes. Problem Child by AC/DC blasting in his earphone.

  “ I'm hot and when I'm not

I'm cold as ice ”

 “Screw my dramatic roots,” Draco mutters, walking past the doorway. Taking in the coming back to life chaos. 

The frog seemed to be the main factor in this disaster, so Draco simply removed his cloak and trapped the frog in it. 

“Now who does the frog belong to?” Draco asks sternly. 

The shaking boy beside him raises his hand, and Draco deposits the frog into his arms. He then shakes his clock out, and says, “You should keep a better eye on it, or lock it up.”

The boy nods sheepishly and a little scared, but Draco is already slipping his cloak back on and walking to his table. 

His steps and clothes are so nice that no one would have guessed what he just did if they had not just seen it. 

Areon watches the after effects of Black's actions with mild amusement. Potter stands and wipes his clothes off, still cocky even after being shown up. Longbottom is speechless and frozen. The other two that were with Potter are the only ones who go back to normal and continue to fight.

“Honestly, all I’ve ever seen them do is fight, so immature.” Areon thinks, looking at Ron and Hermione. He then walks straight by them and to the Slytherin table where Black is sitting. 

Once he sits the rest of the students start moving, and the morning goes back to normal. 

Potter has directed Longbottom and his toad to the Gryffindor table. The other two follow, still fighting like children.

Areon just sighs, and starts cutting his breakfast. 

“Hogwarts is back to being loud and obnoxious again, it seems. Annoyingly." Areon thinks. 

Mcgonagall though seems to be equally done with the Gryffindor chaos Areon notices mildly amused.

Minerva was half way to putting in her letter of resignation for next year, when for the first time in far too long she saw; a Black deal with something without adding to the drama. 

“Thank you Narcissa and Regulus (when he was a baby) that your Black genes were the ones that were stronger in that boy.” Minerva silently praises. Draco Black managed to deal with the problem quickly and without making another. Minerva might actually survive this year. 

Hermione finally left Ron alone about his clothes when she saw the schedules laid out on the table, one for each student a piece of charmed water proof parchment.

First Years Schedule

7:00 Wake Up 

(students are recommended to wake up at this time.)

7:30-8:25 Breakfast

(Students are allowed to come and go as they please, though food must stay in the hall.)

8:30-9:20 First Period

(All Years will have House Meetings on Monday and Friday. 

Transfiguration: Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.)

9:20-9:35 Break

(It is to be used to give students time to grab last minute items, not to mess around.)

9:35-10:25 Second Period

(Charms: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

Potions: Tuesday and Thursday.)

10:30-11:20 Third Period

(Herbology: Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

Second period of Potions: Tuesday and Thursday.)

11:20-11:35 Break

(It is to be used to help with the extra commute time, as well to give students time to change if necessary, not to mess around)

11:35-12:25 Fourth Period

(DADA: Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

 History of Magic: Tuesday and Thursday.)

12:25-13:25 Lunch

13:25-14:15 Fifth Period

(Free Period/Tutor Period: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

Mandatory Tutor Period: Tuesday and Thursday.)

14:20-15:10 Sixth Period

(Flying Lessons: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

Free Period/Tutor Period: Tuesday and Thursday.)

15:10-17:15 Extra Extracurricular Blocks

(First Year Up Options; Muggle Art, Music and Muggle Music.)

17:20-18:20 Dinner 

(Students must be on time, but may leave whenever they wish before lights out.)

20:00 Lights Out

(All Students who do not have Astronomy at 24:00 that night must be in bed)

“I could have had way more than 5 minutes.” Ron whines, noticing the word recommended by the wake up time. He had looked over to see what Hermione was looking at, and now regretted his life choices. He collapses onto his folded arms dramatically.

Harry meanwhile just stretches over Ron’s back to get a better look at Hermione’s schedule. 

“Huh, that’s cool.” he mutters uninterested. 

Hermione just rolls her eyes and goes to say something, but Harry beats her to it.

“Flying Lessons? Awesome!” Harry barks, snatching the schedule from Hermione, as Ron sits up making the two boys collide. The boys then start to fit over the schedule both wanting to see now.

“You both have your own schedules.” Hermione mutters, and then takes a long drink of her black coffee.

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(For those of you that remembered the fact that Harry has a little snake friend. Here is how Remus ended up finding out about the friendship and that Harry can talk to snakes.)

“Moony, Slinky told me to tell you not to ruin his nest.” little five and a half year old Harry calls running into the house. Precariously holding a little garden snake. The snake surprisingly is quite content in the boy's hands and hisses in agreement.
It was a nice sunny day, and Remus was enjoying a tea by the window. With a book in his other hand. “Oh did Slinky ?” Remus asks Harry amused.
“Yes, Slinky did. Well I named them slinky, because they told me their mama never gave them a name. So I did.” Harry says oh so proud, and almost drops slinky.
“That’s very sweet of you Button Buck.” Remus says. He sets his book down. Before pulling out a camera to capture this moment.
Harry doesn’t stop talking though telling Remus about how cool Slinky’s nest is. Slinky nods and preens in their own snake way. Remus captures it in both his mind and film, to forever be the day his Button Buck made his first friend.
“Alright Button Buck I promise not to disturb Slinky’s nest. Why don’t you go show me their nest so I know what to avoid stepping on.” Remus says more amused than he's been since his time at Hogwarts.
Harry lights up and starts bounding off telling Remus how much he’ll love the nest. “It’s small but cozy just like our nest!”
"Harry bounds out into the sunlight, his little friend soaking up the sun. Remus follows his heart healing with every step. His Button Buck has some meat on him now and he's not tripping over too big clothes. He's being his kind compassionate self and nobody is abusing it anymore, and never will. Harry stops and points at a little nest in the corner of the yard right in a sunspot.
Harry gently oh so gently sets Slinky down by the nest and the snake nuzzles his hand a little and says ‘thanks friend’ in snake. Harry says, "your welcome” back.
Harry then starts explaining very seriously how Slinky told him that the nest is made out of cotton and animal fur and grass.
Remus nods along paying full attention to Harry and the snake. Remus then crouches down and says to Slinky, “It’s a very nice nest Slinky.” Slinky lets out a little happy noise, and Harry says, “Slinky says thank you.”
“Jame’s I know you’re laughing up there thinking about all the pranks he could do with this ability but you’re not the one who has to raise a kid that can talk to snakes. How do I explain to him that no one else can know because this poor boy doesn’t need anymore weird looks.” Remus thinks half listening to Harry’s ranting about how Slinky said they didn't have enough soft things in the yard for their nest.

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“What? Not fair!” Harry exclaims, heartbroken when Minny tells him that first years aren’t allowed to play Quidditch. His breathing is shaky as he keeps standing. Keeps being the only one on their feet other than Minerva herself, as if waiting for time to turn back and change. 

Oliver Wood is the only one smiling, but even he is shocked. Ron shakes the shock off first, and moves on autopilot. He drags Harry back to the couch they share. The gold velvet cushion adjusting for Harry once again. It molds to him in an instant, like the greatest memory foam.

Harry has not even been at Hogwarts for a full day, and now his dream is already being ruined. Moony would tell him to think on the positive though ‘Button Buck you get flying lessons every other day’ he can practically hear him say. 

So ya he knows that Moony would be right. As always. He can’t wait to play the game his dad and godfather loved, though. The game that was his history as much as Hogwarts itself.

“Yes, Mr Potter, you will not be able to participate in Quidditch until your second year, and that is final.” Minny says unamused. “It is protocol, because you are to learn how to safely fly this year, not play a game involving it.” She finishes with a sigh. 

Harry deflates at that and nods. Everyone lets out a breath at that, and Minny continues explaining the rules. 

Draco decides during the House Meeting that Hogwarts is a joke.  There are safety guards on everything, and apparently you are not supposed to use your wand outside of class. Students are also not allowed in the dark arts part of the library or the forbidden forest. What is this place a preschool? 

He completely understands why Siri broke so many rules, and was in trouble all the time. They treat us like children. Utterly Disgusting.

“Selwyn seems to agree with me if his mild look of surprise is anything to go by.” Draco thinks, spinning his wand, before slipping it into his bun like Siri always does. "The classes should be better than these out of class rules," Draco thinks as he leaves to go to charms. He was very much wrong.

Harry struts into charms five minutes late with a messy tie, his full Potter energy coming out. He flicks his wand dramatically and plops onto the seat beside Ron. 

“Mate you said you were only gonna be a few minutes ten minutes ago what happened?” Ron asks, turning to look at him. Before Harry can reply though Professor Flickwix starts his lesson. 

“So for one of the first times in my life I am wrong. Charms, is not better than the stupid rules, it is worse.” Draco thinks. (Ya no you read that right, but go ahead and reread it. You done? Good, take a minute to process before continuing.) This tiny old man has not stopped talking once about expectations that are far too low for Draco to ever consider the base line, and they have not even opened their books yet.

    “Are you following me around or something Black?” Harry cockily questions, as they both leave the boring charm class. There steps in time as they walk down the corridor, not one in front of the other. Both strutting, and in her classroom Minny got a random urge to sigh.

“Harry, I have no need to follow you. I can smell your Axe bodyspray from across the lake.” Draco says with disgust. Waving away the smell of the preeteen boy with two much Axe bodyspray. “Also I am going to my next class, Herbology, not dilly dalling like you.” 

“Wait, your next class is Herbology. That's mine too I guess your royal Blackness will have to tolerate my presence even longer.” Harry says, utterly delighted. He knows he’s supposed to avoid scary people, but Draco is so cool. He is going to make him his friend.

“Wonderful now lets just get this out of the way. What other classes do you have today” Draco asks with a sinking feeling, but does not let it show. They keep causally strutting down the hall exactly in pace. 

Harry rattles off the list of classes, and Draco realises he’s stuck with the bloody gryffendors all year. That mutt Ron is gonna have a field day with this amazing news. At least this Potter boy is interesting so he won't get completely bored after he cracks Selwyn.

Draco snaps out of it when he hears the sound of a body getting pushed against a wall. Both him and Harry turn towards the sound to find the boy that lost his frog pushed against the wall by some second years. 

Ya no this is not gonna work.

Harry pulls up his sleeves, as Draco’s expression goes from cold to cruel interest. The second years have not noticed them yet, but even they feel the change in the atmosphere. Harry goes to bulldoze his way through, but before he can Draco slips in between the second years and the boy. 

“You know you really should not pick on the sweet ones. I'm sure he didn't do anything to deserve it. Me on the other hand ... well.” Draco coldly says discipline and a threat.

“Forgot to introduce myself, I'm Draco, Draco Black.” Draco says, holding a hand out with a smile too sharp to be polite. The second years booked it down the hallways, while the two Gryffindors second shocked.

They left me hanging, how rude. Draco causally drops his hand, and looks over the still speechless boys. Good the frog boy seems to not be hurt and Harry finally realised how big of a threat I am.

Draco’s beliefs are crushed when both boys end up walking to Herbology with him. Also Harry is obviously even more determined to be annoying.

So only six people got covered in dirt, one pot broke, and luckily no plants died, so Harry is gonna call the first class of Herbology a win. Black seemed to think he could get away by leaving early Harry quickly squashed that thought. Remus taught me to be persistent. That is how Ron ended up getting dragged at full gremlin speed to apparently collect their fifth Marauder (whatever that is) since Neville is our fourth, so we need five according to a very dirty Harry.

Wait, speaking of Neville…I forgot Neville! Harry thinks skidding to a halt. I can not believe I forgot him. I’m a terrible friend. Harry literally withers. 

Meanwhile Hermione and Neville are peacefully walking behind watching the chaos quite amused. Taking in the scene of Black trying to disappear, Harry’s realisation, and Ron cosplaying a ragdoll. 

Black finally manages to lose Harry, as he gets sidetracked. Ron also gets a serious case of whiplash as Harry drags him all the way back to the other. Head hung low ready to grovel.

“I’m so sorry!” Harry cries, drooping to his knees in front of Neville. Who meanwhile is very amused and confused by the griffinpuppy at his feet. “It is okay?” Neville asks/says softly trying to figure out how they ended up here. 

“No it is not! I can’t believe I forgot to grab you too! Please forgive me!” Harry begs almost kissing Neville's feet. Hermione has to work very hard to stay professional, and Ron’s world finally stops spinning.

What in Merlin's name happened to them after I left? Draco wonders, as the Gryffindors enter the DADA classroom. Hermione and Ron look like they aged ten years, and Harry is clinging to my b-Neville. Anyway Harry seems to be apologising about something, and good his entire existence is an annoyance. An interesting annoyance but an annoyance none the same.

Mr Quirrls or whatever is not interesting though. He is an insecure mumbling fool who does not intend on actually preparing us, also he gives off the same dark vibe as home does. What a waste of my time. 

Then the stuttering professor turns his back to the students, and a dark aura comes from his turban. The same type as the dungeon, and Grimmauld just much fainter. This is definitely a problem. Draco thinks as a dark look takes over his eyes.

Draco’s sharp intense look stays glued not to Quirrell’s face, but the faint darkness in the turban. As the class goes by, sweat starts to drip down Quirrell’s neck, but Draco does not let up, instead he smirks.

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Hi, guys I need help to know what to write next. Would you all like the rest of the day or maybe the next day or something totally different. Please comment, your answers, or I don't know if I'll be able to continue any time soon. Thank you so much for reading!