Bueller? Bueller? It hasn't been a year, I swear. I had this almost complete sitting in my docs for literally a year and it hardly took me any time to finish and edit it, I've just been busy. College picked up and then I went on vacation and then classes went online and just oof. But hopefully I never have a break this long again. I have it all drafted and I know what I'm doing. Sometimes I'm just slow! Hopefully you all forgive me! I promise it won't take this long again!

October 31st


By Arnold Wiggins

As we are all aware, Harry Potter has been spreading unfounded rumors that You-Know-Who has come back to life, fourteen years now to the day that he disappeared. These rumors are of course not backed by the Ministry, with Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge vehemently telling us Harry Potter is simply a boy who thinks he is special and seeking attention. However, no matter how much he is simply seeking attention, we must wonder; is it our fault he is so self-focused? We held him to a high standard from the very first day it was announced he survived You-Know-Who's Killing Curse. We can only blame ourselves for his behavior, even if he is now old enough he should know better.

This article, however, seeks not to point out why Harry Potter seeks attention, but to instead point out facets of his life that have been kept secret from the public up until now, despite the high media attention he has always received. The question we must ask ourselves is whether Harry Potter himself was aware of his brother.

According to a source, Harry Potter's brother was born shortly before that fateful night in Godric's Hollow when You-Know-Who came to kill Mr. and Mrs. Potter (James Potter and Lily Potter née Evans), though we do not know the exact date. We are also not aware of how he managed to escape death. Was he simply not noticed? Or did You-Know-Who plan to kill him after finishing off Harry Potter? These are questions we cannot answer, we can, however, tell you everything we know about him.

According to public record, his name is Sirius Everson Potter (the first name most likely comes from the name of his and Harry Potter's listed godfather, Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer and escaped convict). According to someone who met him briefly, he looks quite similar to Harry Potter but has blue eyes instead of green. He is relatively short for his age and does not attend Hogwarts. He has an American accent (indicating he may have been raised in America, away from Harry Potter).

So now we have to wonder why he wasn't raised alongside Harry Potter. Could he perhaps be a squib, and was sent away due to his lack of magic? It might explain why he managed to escape You-Know-Who's wrath; he simply wasn't there. The largest thing we must question, however, is how none of us seemed to know he existed? His name was on public record, and there were certainly enough people who dug through that following the Potter's death to notice his name.

Is this dark magic at play? The influence of Sirius Black before he was sent to Azkaban and before he went on his murderous rampage? Or something darker? Did Albus Dumbledore know about him this whole time? Was he not raised away from Harry Potter because he was a squib, but instead because Professor Dumbledore needed a weapon? One we wouldn't expect?

My readers, I leave you to draw your own conclusions. Just remember, Professor Dumbledore supports Harry Potter in those unfounded rumors of You-Know-Who being back. His true motives behind this may very well be much darker than we think.

Dick stared at the paper. This was ridiculous. Someone was in that bar they went to, and someone heard them before he insisted on the spell to stop listeners. At least that proved he was founded in his paranoia. But this would make future Hogsmeade trips more than a little troublesome.

Poor Harry. He'd have people asking all sorts of questions now, questions Harry wouldn't know how to answer. Questions that would need answers to prevent even more people from thinking that a very real threat wasn't a threat. Voldemort was back and in a way, Dick could understand the refusal to believe the obvious. No one wanted to face such darkness again, and especially right after they were sure they were in the clear. But this attitude, refusing to even be prepared for the eventuality, that was what got people killed.

"Master Dick, Master Bruce sent me to fetch you; he is about to leave," a voice said.

Dick didn't jump, but only because he knew this was coming. As if he needed more stress, now they had huge concerns about a mole in the team. Luckily, he was in the clear, but honestly, he didn't like the direction Roy was taking his investigation. He had trouble believing anyone would betray them, on purpose that is. Roy was more cynical, and especially towards Artemis.

To be fair, Oliver hadn't even told him that he was getting a new partner, and Roy was his adopted son. He knew Oliver didn't have a niece, but Oliver refused to explain at first and now (when Oliver was willing to explain) Roy refused to listen. Even to Dick.

"I'll be right there, Alfred," Dick replied. It was about to be a long day. A very long day. He set the newspaper aside and took a deep breath. If there was a mole, he wasn't sure he wanted to face it. All of them were becoming his friends, and he'd entrusted Artemis with his ID, even if Bruce didn't know that yet.

She was the one Roy was most focused on, but Dick knew that it wasn't her. He couldn't explain how he knew. It was just a feeling he'd been getting more and more often. He ignored the voice in his head that told him the feeling wasn't just intuition.

"I'm not ready for this," Dick sighed to himself.

"Did you say something, Master Dick," Alfred asked from outside his door.

"No, sorry Alfred. I'm just a little stressed," Dick said, opening his door and then closing it behind him. Alfred fixed him with a gentle look.

"You don't have to go today," he said.

"No, I do," Dick responded. Even his voice sounded tired. "If I can't help convince Roy to stop looking so deeply at Artemis, at least I can be there to know what he's planning next. Lately, it feels like he's become a different person."

"People change sometimes. You of all people know that."

Dick managed a small smile. "Yeah, I know. I just miss him before all this Justice League stuff. Since then he's been off, especially when we're heroing. He's normal when we're being normal."

"Then maybe you should talk to him about it," Alfred suggested. "Something important could be bothering him."

"Other than Oliver?" Dick joked. "Don't worry," he added, quickly becoming more sober. "I plan to talk to him soon."

November 5th

When Bruce disappeared, Dick felt his heart drop. It was a nightmare, one he had faced before. Except for this time it was real. Bruce has disappeared right before his eyes and there was nothing he could do. It took all Dick had to keep calm, and even more to keep everyone else calm. Zatanna seemed to be freaking out just as much as him, but she was a lot more external with it.

He tried to stay calm as he went to the room that served as his when he stayed the night here. His uniform was somewhere, but his brain didn't quite seem to be working and he couldn't make himself focus. He just needed a moment.

Dick slumped onto his bed and took a deep breath. He kept taking deep breaths until his heart rate started to slow and he felt less like he might curl up on the ground and cry loudly.

How pathetic. He was thirteen (fourteen, technically) and he was too old to throw tantrums just because he couldn't see his pseudo father. Yet, all he wanted was Bruce. But this reaction he was having, this freak-out, it wasn't helpful. He needed to get it together and focus, because if he didn't, who knows what might happen.

His thoughts were interrupted by a ring. Then another.

"Where's my phone," he muttered to himself as he started digging around the bag by his bed. "I know I put it in here."

Finally he found it.

Call from… Harry Potter the screen read.

He didn't have time for this. Still, he vaguely remembered agreeing to a phone call tonight, so he'd better answer or else Harry would worry. Thank heavens it was later in Europe and chances were no one had noticed the adults at Hogwarts missing. Yet, that is.

"Hello," he said calmly. Thank god for compartmentalizing. Thank god he was good at it. Healthy as that was or not.

"Hey, Dick. How are you?" Harry asked.

"I'm okay," replied Dick. "Did you read that article?"

"Hermione gave me the gist of it. How do you think they found out about you?"

"Well, obviously there was someone in that bar listening in. It's a good thing we put that spell up before talking about the club."

"You're right. I didn't think someone would be there," Harry admitted.

"You have to consider and prepare for every possibility. That way, you won't ever be surprised." Dick paused. It sounded like some advice he should follow himself; he and Bruce technically have a backup plan in case of something like this. He needs to follow it. "Or at least, that's what I think."

"That sounds stressful."

He tries not to laugh. Harry sounds more than a little horrified. After so long with Bruce, Dick can't imagine living any other way. Even his life with his parents without a million plans in case of anything seems insane to him. Then again, Bruce's paranoia is contagious.

"A little," he admits. "But it's definitely good when the whole world is pretty much against you."

"Yeah, I can agree with that. Listen, are you okay?" Harry asked. "You sound a little stressed."

"I'm fine," Dick says. "I have a lot of homework coming up and a French test."

"Aren't you fluent in French?"

"I mean, yeah, but I still have a test. I'm pretty sure my teacher hates me because I can actually speak French."

"Should I let you go then?" Harry asked. "You're coming next Hogsmeade weekend, so I'll see you then and I can always call another time."

"Thank you so much," Dick said emphatically.

He didn't exactly not want to talk to Harry, but this definitely wasn't the best time, what with all the adults seeming gone. He felt bad, but at this point getting to know his brother was taking a backseat to saving the world. Again, compartmentalization.

Now that he was calmer, everything seemed less terrifying. He could do this.

November 7th

Zatara was gone. Zatanna was heartbroken. Dick didn't know what to say. In a way, losing Zatara the way she had was worse than how he'd lost his family because at the end of the day, her dad was still alive. She just couldn't see him or talk to him or live with him.

He understood why she wanted to be alone. He would never take that away from her. Not when he'd been through the same thing.

He also had the mich more minor problem of now having no magic teacher, and therefore possibly being forced into some magic boarding school to learn magic he didn't actually care much about.

But compared to Zatanna losing her father, his problems were minuscule.

November 11th

Wally was of course not surprised by his surprise party. He also really liked his surprise party and the cake(s). To be honest, Wally was nothing if not predictable. During the party, he's able to corner his friend (okay, it's the opposite) and they talked. Wally talked a lot more.

"How's Zatanna doing?"

It's a heavy topic, especially for a birthday, but Wally, for all he acts like today is all about him, cares a lot. He still has his parents and his aunt and uncle, but he has empathy. It's only been five days since Zatanna lost her father for the next who-knows-how-many years.

"I don't know," he says. "I mean, when it happened to me I was inconsolable for weeks, but I was also a lot younger. It might be worse or better because she's older and he's not dead."

"Yeah," Wally sighs. "I wish I could help out more. But I think she might do better processing it alone, or at least with people she knows better. Like you."

"I've only known her for a little while," Dick argued. He tried not to blush. This was not the time.

"I don't mean it like making a move on her, just like, you know what she's going through, or you know it a little better than everyone else here, probably. I assume Artemis still has her parents since you know her and never said anything."

"Artemis' life is her own; it's none of my business."

"Yeah, but I bet you still know. And you didn't exactly disagree much with me," Wally said.

Dick couldn't say he was wrong, really. Artemis still had both her parents, even if she didn't really live with or love both of them.

November 13th

The thing was, with everything that had been going on, Dick hadn't really been focusing on school. Luckily for him, he tended to pick things up pretty quickly. Math was something he actually liked, so it wasn't that bad. He wasn't as far ahead as he liked, but it was fine. Now history, that was his weak point. And no matter how cool his teacher actually was this year, he couldn't care less about 15th century Britain.

The point was, school was boring and Dick just wanted to go home. He was tired and he definitely didn't have the energy to talk to Harry tonight, like he'd promised. Being in Mount Justice earlier has let him have a half-day at school, but now he was stuck here until 4 pm and he still had a mathlete meeting after that.

"Dick, how are you?" a voice asked.

"Hey, Barbara," he said.

"How are you, Dick? You seem a little stressed."

Dick chuckled. "Just a little."

"I'm trying to be nice while your face looks like that."

"This is always how my face looks."

"Well then I guess I'm going to be nice to you for a long time."

"Ha ha ha," he said. "You staying late too?"

Barbara smiled. "Yeah, the gymnastics team has a meeting. I'll be on the bar."

"Maybe I'll skip mathletes and join you," he said.

"Don't do that, I know you love the nerdy mathletes," she said. "Besides, you said everyone on the team wasn't that good."

"Except for you," he muttered. "And it's true. They're not as good as me."

"You literally grew up in a circus, Dick-face. Of course they're not as good at you. But they're not bad. Most of them are probably better than me."

"Sure," Dick sniffed.

"You know, I understand why people think you're spoiled sometimes," she teased. "You're such a know it all about acrobatics and stuff."

"I do know a lot about 'stuff,'" he agreed.

"Jerk." Barbara punched his shoulder.

"Same to you," he said, punching her back.

November 19th

"Dick, how are you?" Ginny asked.

Dick smiled at her. "I'm pretty good I suppose. My school's been busy. How are you?"

"I'm good! I can't talk long. I have a date soon, but Harry should be here soon."

"Oh, cool," he said. "What about Hermione and Ron?"

"I don't know. I think Hermione is with some other friends and Ron stayed at school. They wanted to give you and Harry some time alone. You are brothers after all."

"Oh, cool," he said. It wasn't that bad, but the only times he's really been alone with Harry one of them had been having some sort of anxiety or stress episode. Didn't exactly allow for normal sibling bonding. It was do or die, in a way.

Now here he was having to be a functional teenager talking about normal teenager things. OR at least talking about normal magic things.

"Oh, there Harry is," Ginny said. "Hullo, Harry! I'll see you around, Dick."

With that, Ginny was gone.

"How are you?" Dick asked once Harry was closer.

Harry shrugged. "I'm okay."

There was an awkward silence.

"We really aren't good at this, are we?" Dick asked.

Harry cracked a smile. "Not really," he agreed. "I haven't really made a new friend in years, much less talked to a brother."

"Honestly, it's kind of the same for me," he admitted. The others on the team were his friends and a lot of them were newer, but it was a little different when their connection was fulfilled in battle.

"So, what do you want to do?"

Dick shrugged.

"Hullo, Harry."

"Hey, Colin," Harry sighed. "How are you?"

Dick looked at the kid staring at Harry. He looked to be about Dick's age, actually, so maybe not a kid. His hair was blonde and the look he was giving Harry was one Dick was very familiar with. Hero worship.

"Is this your brother, Sirius?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Dick elbowed him. Harry's mouth snapped closed.

"Yeah, that's me," Dick replied. He didn't bother using an accent. According to that article, he was living in America, so everyone would expect him to sound America.

"Cool! Can I get a picture?"

"Um, Colin, I haven't seen him for a while, so I was hoping to just spend time with him," Harry said slowly.

"Oh, okay," Colin said. He looked a little disappointed, but at least he hadn't snapped a picture of them anyway with the camera strapped around his neck. "Well, have a good time then, Harry. It was good to meet you, Sirius."

After Colin was gone Harry turned to Dick.

"Why didn't you correct him?"

"Well, as far as everyone knows, I still go by that name. Better to convince them of that than to have people make a connection to Richard Grayson, ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne. Especially people who aren't solely magical children," he said.

"I have to admit, it's a good idea," Harry said.

"Thank you."

"There are more people staring at us."

Dick looked around and sighed.

"Yes, yes there are. Is there anywhere that people don't really go?" he asked.

"Maybe the Shrieking Shack," Harry said. "It's just an old building. Even if it was supposedly haunted, who cares about it? It's not like we can go inside anyway."

"We're not supposed to go inside?" Dick asked. He had an idea. It wasn't smart, per se, but it would get them away from the people who were still staring as they walked.

"No," Harry said. "Afraid not. But no one really goes there anyway, so it'll be quiet."

"Sounds perfect," he agreed.

They continued walking, mostly in silence. Once in a while, Harry pointed at a shop and told him what was inside, but that was it. As they entered the brief patch of wood on the way to the shack, Dick heard someone behind them. Well, three someones.

"Potter, I see you're brother is here," a familiar voice scoffed.

"It's good to meet you again," Dick replied, turning to face who he recognized as Draco Malfoy, along with two students who reminded him of the goons usually hired by villains in Gotham. Big, strong, and not a whole lot of brains.

Draco's eyes narrowed.

"You," he growled.

"I guess you weren't wrong when you called me Potter then," Dick said.

"Are you supposed to be here?" Draco asked instead of responding.

"Are you?" Dick shot back. "I didn't know they allowed trolls to study here."

"Crabbe and Goyle are far from trolls," he sniffed.

"I was talking about you," Dick drawled, copying Draco's tone.

He turned redder and redder. His mouth opened and he sputtered a moment before shutting it again. He turned to his cronies (Crabbe and Goyle) and glared at them.

"What are you waiting for?" he snapped. "Get them."

"You can try," Dick scoffed. Both of them seemed confused. He would be too if he saw a scrawny kid at least a head shorter acting like he'd win. But Dick wasn't a normal kid. He didn't even have to touch them to beat them.

They both lumbered towards him. If he was being honest, the idea of a good fight was kind of nice. It had been a while. Patrol had been boring lately and Dick needed some way to get his energy out. Humiliating these bullies seemed like a good idea.

One of them reached for him, but it was too late. Dick had already launched himself from the ground over the boy's head. He added an extra spin in there just to show off.

Draco looked unsure. He was already backing away. He wouldn't be dumb enough to use his wand off Hogwarts grounds. Dick landed in front of him and smiled.

"I was an acrobat as a kid," he said. "You pick up some stuff. I also throw a mean punch."

Draco turned and ran. His goons followed after him, seemingly deeming Dick too much work. He turned back towards Harry, ran a hand through his hair, and smiled.

"That was brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. "I didn't know you could do that!"

"You should see me stretch," he joked. "But yeah, I like to think I'm pretty good at it."

"You're definitely good at it," Harry said, a little faintly. "What else can you do?"

"I can walk on my hands," Dick said before quickly flipping onto them.

(Thank god he wore gloves today, otherwise, his hands would be freezing. Granted, it wouldn't bother him too much. Bat-training definitely prepared you for anything and everything.)

He took a few steps on his hands before tilting his head to look at Harry. Harry was staring at him again.

"How long did that take to learn?"

Dick shrugged (as much as he could while on his hands).

"I can't remember not being able to do it," he admitted. "I must have learned it young, but that's as much as I know."

"That's so cool," Harry breathed. "I wish I could do something like that."

"You can do magic," Dick said. "That's pretty cool."

"You can too," Harry said.

Dick flipped back onto his feet.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But I'm not really that into magic. I need to learn so I don't have to go here or to some other boarding school, but I like being more normal."

Harry seemed like he couldn't imagine such a thing.

"You're not into magic?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

"I mean, it's interesting, but I have other focuses."

"More important than magic?"

"Magic isn't like, I don't want to be mean, but magic isn't my life," he said without looking at Harry. "My life is and always will be in Gotham City with Bruce and my friends. I don't really, magic isn't something I really want to use, at least not much. It's not where I saw my life going."

He still doesn't look at Harry.

"I guess," Harry begins slowly. He's also not looking at Dick. "I guess if that's what you'd prefer. I can't imagine living without magic myself, but if that's the way you want it to be I understand."

Dick can't even begin to explain how relieving that is. He and Harry are very different people. It's kind of scary to imagine how his life could have been if their (how strange is that) parents hadn't died. Dick definitely wouldn't speak as many languages as he does. He wouldn't be an acrobat and aerialist. He would be interested in magic.

(Sidekicks also probably wouldn't exist without him.)

He can't imagine his life in that universe. And given the choice, he would never change his life. He loved his parents. Loves them. He loves Bruce and Alfred. He never knew his biological parents. He doesn't love them, not really. Sure, they're the reason he exists. He's thankful for that. But he doesn't love them.

"Thanks, Harry," he says.

Thanks so much to anyone who stuck around. I won't take this long again, I swear! Hopefully the characterization is on point! I'm trying, I swear lol

Sorry for any mistakes.