"HP: Potterlock" AU
'The Case of the Stone'
- Prats, Hats, and Crazy Old Wizards -
A/N: I don't own squat, save for the plot.
Love the responses. Thanks for that. I kinda thrive on comments. :-)
The door handle to the compartment rattled, getting their attention, then there was a light tapping on the glass of the window. Looking over, they saw a blonde girl. Harold smiled and opened the door. "Fancy meeting you here."
The girl grinned. "There you are, Harold. I saw two 'missing links' carrying the Malfoy-spawn down the corridor, so I came looking for you."
"He's a racist git," Harold said somewhat haughtily.
"Oh, I approve," she said with a dismissive wave. "However, I thought we decided to sit together on the train?"
"You have everything?" Harold asked with a brow up. She nodded and the brow joined the other in a bit of a scowl. "Well, sit down you silly thing," he said while waving to the bench next to Neville."
Who the hell is this? Hermione thought to herself, which sparked another thought. Is this what jealousy feels like? I don't like it. But, why would I be jealous? I just met him, but now there's this … Oh, bollocks. She's probably his girlfriend.
Neville looked uncomfortable when the girl sat a bit away from him on the bench, then he spotted her house crest on her robes and nodded to himself. "Are you… together?"
Two sets of wide eyes gaped at Neville, before the pair of them started snickering. "Oh heavens, no. Harold's the brother I never had."
"We'd probably kill each other if that happened," Harold said wryly, still chuckling.
The look of relief on Hermione's face kept her smirk going, as she held her hand out to Neville. "Daphne Greengrass."
Neville's hand shook as he took her hand and kissed the knuckle. "Neville Longbottom. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Hermione was able to smile now, and she held her hand across to Daphne. "Hermione Granger."
"Charmed," Daphne said with a smile. She then gave Harold a shrewd look. "So, why didn't you look for me?"
"One, you were late," Harold said primly. "Two, dad ushered me into the train long before it was was scheduled to leave. Three, I was pulled into this direction. Completely not my fault. Had you been here on time, we would have met these two lovely people together." His head was high and snobbish at this point.
"Really," Daphne said disbelievingly, before looking towards Hermione with an upturned brow. "I see." Hermione hid her blush behind her new book, causing her to smirk again. "Ah, I see he's already got you reading. Don't fret. Not everyone believes that rubbish."
"I like reading," Hermione protested. "I can get lost in a library for hours, and call it time well spent."
"Oh no," Daphne complained, looking to the ceiling. "Another one."
"There's nothing wrong with books!" Harold said hotly.
Daphne was back to her shrewd look. "I never said there was. However, if you had the chance, you'd put a kitchen and a water closet in the library, just so you don't have to leave it."
Harold was blushing now. "You forgot the bed," he said quietly.
"Oh yes, of course. How silly of me," Daphne grinned. "Do they know?" she asked with a wave towards Neville and Hermione. At his sheepish nod, she grinned. "Good. There's a fan of yours trying to locate you."
"Blondie left the way he came," Harold deadpanned.
"Not him," Daphne huffed. "A redhead. One of the Weasleys I imagine. He was muttering to himself about being, oh what was it he said? 'Best Mates with The-Boy-Who-Lived'."
"Oh, wonderful." Sighing, Harold looked at Neville, then Hermione. "May I hide behind the pair of you? The idiots are everywhere. She's no help, and will probably tell them where I am," his last comment was emphasized with a thumb hook in Daphne's direction.
Hermione smiled and reached over to put a hand on his arm. "Don't worry. We'll protect you," she couldn't hold the look before she started snickering.
"Yeah," Neville grinned. "I'll protect my little godbrother."
"Godbrother?" Daphne asked, startled.
"His mother and my mother are each of our godmothers," Neville explained.
Daphne looked Harold in the eye. "That's two."
"I noticed," Harold said with a somewhat disgusted look.
"Pardon?" Hermione asked. "Two?"
Harold sighed. "My godfather was placed in prison without a trial. Well, at least there's no record of one anywhere that we could find." He paused to look at Neville. "I know this is a touchy subject, and I apologise."
To Hermione, he explained. "My godmother was permanently hospitalized. After the death of my parents, both of my godparents were placed in locations that made it impossible for them to care for me."
Hermione put the book in her lap, her brow scrunched. "That's suspicious."
"Very," Daphne said. "I suppose you and your father thought it wise to not say anything before?"
Harold nodded. "It's nothing against you. Dad and uncle Mycroft wanted this kept on the down low, so I obeyed while they investigated. I have a feeling that whatever plots against my person will become obvious rather soon."
"Mmm," Daphne grunted non-committally.
"So, where do you think you'll be sorted?" Hermione asked, changing the uncomfortable subject.
"Slytherin, most likely," Daphne said. "Both of my parents were, at least."
"Genetics has nothing to do with it," Harold snapped. "Psychology is the deciding factor. On the other hand, if you don't stop trying to be sneaky, you'll end up in the snake pit."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Daphne said haughtily.
"You know my feelings on this," Harold grumbled. "Most of the death nibblers are going to be there."
"And I have a full complement of spells, wards, and physical deterrents to their actions," Daphne countered. "Not to mention, a quasi big brother who will defend my honour and my virtue like any brother should."
"Absolutely," Harold said with a scowl. "On the other hand, do you want to hide your emotions here as well?"
Daphne glared at him. "Shut up."
Looking at the two … siblings? … Hermione had to ask. "Uhm, if it's not too personal, how did you two become…" her mouth closed with a click when she couldn't find the proper word.
Surprisingly, Neville answered this question. "The Greengrass and Holmes families have mutual alliance. With that alliance, I would think that these two were schooled in similar circumstances?"
"We went to the same muggle primary," Daphne explained, noting Harold's expression. "Yes, I know you don't like that word."
"Then don't use it," Harold stated flatly.
Hermione's brow went up. "You see it the same as 'squib' and 'mudblood'?" His nod prodded the follow up question. "What do you call them then?"
"Non-magical for muggle, mundane for squib. The other doesn't need translating, it's so vulgar," Harold explained. "You either have magic, or you don't. The whole blood line argument doesn't hold any water whatsoever. Or blood for that matter. The phrase 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me' is a bald faced lie. People hide their bigotry behind derogatory names and phrases, so that they perpetuate the hatred."
"That's understandable," Neville said quietly.
Over the course of the trip, the four got to know each other. Neville turned out to be home schooled by his grandmother, and ended up being dropped out the window by his granduncle to activate his accidental magic. The others thought that was horrid, but snickered at the thought of the boy bouncing all over the place for a half an hour.
Hermione turned out to be the daughter of two licensed Dentists. Her mother was a general practitioner that focussed on the younger generation, while her father specialized in reconstructive surgery. When she was younger, strange things happened whenever she was stressed, and even turned a few people's hair different colours, or exploded some light bulbs.
As for Harold and Daphne, they parted ways in primary after their second year. This was because Harold was placed forward several years, twice. As it turned out, he already had his A-Levels in chemistry, biology and forensics. "My father insisted," he explained with a shrug.
What Harold didn't tell them, including Daphne, was that he literally copied the information from the teachers' minds. Sherlock and Mycroft warned him about it countless times, before they both had him trained in occlumency. Training him as a legilimense was completely redundant, however. Sherlock, on the other hand, went behind Mycroft's back and had allowed it – as well as letting his son copy his own way of thinking in organizing the mind. 'School is dull,' was his reasoning.
Daphne's story wasn't that much different from Hermione's, save the location of primary and that her parents dealt with commerce. There were a few times that Harold stepped in when there were bullies about during school, but more often they argued politics while Harold practised the cello on the weekends.
Daphne ended up raving about the duets that Harold played with his father, which caused him to have to pull it from his trunk for a small impromptu demonstration of the prelude from Bach's Cello Suite number one in G major, first movement. Daphne barely held it together from the sight of awe on Hermione's face.
All too soon, the trip was over and Harold was astounded that he wasn't bored for six hours. Daphne kept non-verbally teasing him with glances at Hermione, to which he would counter with looks towards Neville. That evoked her standard eye-roll.
The foursome exited the train to hear a loud bellowing. "Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here!"
"That… is a very large man," Hermione whispered while ducking behind Harold.
Harold reached behind him to take her hand. "That's just Hagrid. He's the Keeper of the Keys for Hogwarts. Don't worry, he's harmless."
"Father said he's been here for years," Daphne said, taking her other arm in hers. "He's a pussycat."
"Big pussycat," Hermione mumbled. Inwardly though, she was doing her best not to stumble when she realized Harold was holding her hand.
Harold and Neville helped the girls into the boat, and they all sat and watched as Hogwarts became visible with large smiles on their faces. Harold noticed that Hermione hadn't let go of his hand, but didn't mind.
After they disembarked, Neville couldn't find his toad. Harold pulled his wand. "Accio Trevor." There was a protesting croak, as the toad flew into Harold's hand.
"That's how Gran always finds him," Neville said in realization.
There was a small "Teach me?" from his right, and Harold nodded at Hermione with a half grin.
Daphne simply rolled her eyes again. Merlin. She's absolutely besotted, she thought to herself, and had to bite her lip to keep from chuckling.
Two boys behind them were arguing about how the students were sorted. One of them mentioned wrestling a troll, which caused Harold to sigh. "Philistines," he mumbled.
When he overheard Hermione whispering spells to herself, he patted her arm. "Hermione, even if it is a written test, there can't be a wrong answer as it would be a psychological profile." He grinned and nodded when she relaxed.
Hagrid introduced them to Professor McGonagall, who gave them a lecture on the houses and how they were family. They met the four house ghosts on the way through the castle, which caused Hermione to squeak like a few others, and latched onto Harold's arm.
When they entered the Great Hall, Hermione commented on reading how the ceiling was enchanted to reflect the sky outside. Harold wondered aloud who charmed the candles to float about, while Daphne sized up the different tables.
When they saw the hat, Harold was insulted and said as much. Hermione's question as to why was answered by Daphne's 'It's just him. You either get used to it, or want to hit him. It's a toss-up.' Harold's only defence was, 'It's singing, Daphne. That's just wrong – and off-key, which is unforgivable.'
While the sorting was going on, he caught Severus' eye and nodded to him, then looked the rest of the staff over. The man with the turban seemed to be caught between a frightened and constipated expression. The Headmaster appeared to have come straight from a drag queen cabaret or something, with those robes of his. The stars danced on them for pity's sake! His eyes bothered him though. The geniality seemed to fail when he saw his eyes.
Just as well. He didn't like him either.
Harold patted her arm and squeezed her hand, before Daphne patted her back to prompt her forward. She sat on the stool and accepted the hat on her head with trepidation. Two seconds later, the hat announced "RAVENCLAW!"
Harold smiled and clapped for her, then was surprised when she winked back at him.
"Good luck," Harold whispered.
She gave him a look. "Luck has nothing to do with it."
Her sorting was just as short, when the hat announced, "SLYTHERIN!"
Harold's face fell, and he mouthed "Be Careful," to her. She just nodded imperially as she walked to the table.
Looking over, he saw that Hermione was straddling two chairs. She pointed to the one on her left, then at him. He smiled at her for that.
"Bollocks," Harold grumbled as he fished his mobile out. Setting it to vibrate, he sent a message to his father while hiding it behind Neville.
You were right. Going to Plan-B. HH
No problem. Amelia is standing by. SH
Satisfied, he put up a blank façade while the other students were sorted. Severus looked appalled. Harold lightly shook his head, to which Severus simply pursed his lips in disgust.
Harry patted his new friend and godbrother's shoulder. "Good luck and don't fret. Remember what I said," he quietly spoke.
Neville smiled at him and calmly walked to the stool. Three seconds later, the hat announced, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Neville was still smiling as he went to his table.
He heard Malfoy snickering, and turned to glare at him. The boy paled and put up a front of indifference, pointedly not looking at him.
The hat was barely on his head, before it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
Harold just stood there and looked about like the others. Hermione looked worried, but he winked at her. She grinned pensively at him, not understanding.
After a few seconds, the next name was called.
And so it went.
Harold shared a look with the last boy and shrugged.
After he was sorted into Slytherin, McGonagall lowered the list and stared at Harold. "And what is your name, young man?"
"Harold Holmes, Professor," he replied calmly. "Or, as we notified the Headmaster, Harold Holmes-Potter. I'm confused as to why the list wasn't changed, because the owl wasn't returned. One wonders if he forgot."
There was a murmur amongst the students. He had to glance to his right, as Severus sat back with a look of pure shock on his face. The Headmaster stood and stared at him. "Is that so, Harry?"
"If you must use the familiar, please use Harold, sir," he said calmly. "Since I do not prefer to be familiar, Mr. Holmes will do, Headmaster."
"Your name is Harry Potter," Dumbledore protested with a scowl.
"No it is not," Harold replied, getting angry. "You would have known that, had you kept up with where you placed me old man. Since you did not, I am not to blame for your ignorance or incompetence."
"You will show the Headmaster respect, young man," McGonagall said hotly.
"His position is what I respect," Harold said, eyeing the Professor, before turning to Dumbledore. "However, the man I do not."
"Perhaps we should adjourn to my office," Dumbledore said.
Harold shook his head. "I think not. I do not trust you enough to be alone in the same room, sir."
"Show the Headmaster respect, or be placed in detention," McGonagall said a bit louder.
"I WILL NEVER RESPECT HIM!" Harold roared, pointing at the Headmaster. "He left me with CHILD ABUSERS! Why in the Name of God Himself would I ever respect him for that?"
It was so quiet, you could've heard a ghost fart. McGonagall was pale and turned to glare at Dumbledore. Eventually Severus' dulcet baritone filled the air. "Where did the Headmaster leave you, Harold?"
He took a cleansing breath and stared him in the eye. "Petunia Evans-Dursley and her fat bigoted husband, Vernon."
Severus' chair was thrust backwards as he stood up, thundering and echoing throughout the hall and several corridors. "YOU LEFT HIM WITH THAT RACIST MONSTER? WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, ALBUS? TUNEY HATES MAGIC!"
"Hated, Uncle Severus," Harold said quietly. "Past tense. They've been dead for seven years."
"Why did you never say anything? You know I would've done something about that," Severus asked.
Harold blinked. "My father and Uncle Mycroft decided not to, because they preferred you not being sent to Azkaban for killing the senile idiot in retribution. Frankly, I agreed with their reasoning."
Dumbledore fell back into his chair, breathing heavily while the students drank in the spectacle. After a moment, Harold's quiet voice was heard by everyone. "Due to the Potter Will being unlawfully sealed within the Ministry, under Chief Warlock Dumbledore's order, which is ironic, since he witnessed it for them, the rights of seven people (including myself) were systematically ignored.
"After my parents murder by an insane dark lord, My Godfather, Sirius Black, was thrown in prison without a trial, and has yet to have one to this day – despite all efforts to grant him one.
"My Godmother, Alice Longbottom, was rendered incapable to care for anyone, including her own son.
"After them, Amelia Bones was to take care of me as she was their lead Auror and friend after leaving Hogwarts. I would've liked to have a brother or sister. As it is, Daphne is a wonderful sister, even though we technically should not have met until today.
"Peter Pettigrew can be overlooked, as he was named James and Lily Potter's secret keeper in the will.
"Unfortunately, since my other named guardian is a werewolf, he was automatically declined by the Ministry as being a so-called Dark Creature once a month.
"Lastly, if all three of the accepted list were incapable of tending to my care, I should have gone to Minerva McGonagall."
There was an explosion of Scottish Gaelic as Professor McGonagall started screaming at the Headmaster. The only thing that was understood was 'I warned you!' and 'worst muggles'.
After she was spent, and Dumbledore was thoroughly chastised, Harold spoke again. "This would not have been brought to the public knowledge had you simply agreed with my name.
"As it is, Gringotts has already seized the funds stolen by you for your own coffers, as well as those sent to the Weasleys for the bride price of their only daughter, Ginevra. Needless to say, the original marriage contract you illegally scripted has been voided and burned. And yes, I am currently in contact with solicitors to have you formally charged for Attempted Line Theft."
After a moment of silence, he turned to McGonagall. "We should talk later, ma'am. However, I do believe we've held up dinner for long enough. May I be sorted now?"
McGonagall numbly handed the hat over to him. Instead of sitting on the stool, he stared at Dumbledore while putting it on his head. Four seconds later, the hat announced…
"RAVENCLAW LORD'S QUARTERS!"
Harold held up his right hand. The Potter Signet Ring glowed on his middle finger as he glared at the Headmaster. After a second, McGonagall removed the hat and bent down to hug him. "I'm so sorry. Please go to your table. We'll talk later."
As he walked to the Ravenclaw table, he paused to look back. "Oh, I forgot. You're also being charged with Wilful Neglect of a Minor, seeing as how I wasn't placed in St. Mungos for medical attention following the attack. According to the Goblins, there was a Class Ten Parasite embedded in that scar I had. As you can see, I no longer have either." After letting his hair fall back down, he turned and made his way with a smile on his face. "Wonderful beings, the Goblins."
After he sat down next to Hermione, she immediately engulfed him in a hug and was doing her best not to sob. If anything was said before the food arrived, he missed it due to trying to comfort the poor girl. "It's okay, I'm all right, dear. Oh, please don't cry," he whispered in her ear.
"I thought he… Why did he?" she stuttered into his shoulder.
He rocked her. "I don't know. Frankly, I don't care. Now, enough of feeling sorry for me. There is some wonderful food here that's begging to be eaten. Be a shame to waste it, yeah?"
She pulled back a bit and wiped her eyes. Impulsively, he kissed her cheek. "Thanks for caring, Hermione. I do appreciate it." Looking about, he noticed the entire table watching them. Frowning at that, he nodded at them, then snuck his mobile out and showed it to her under the table.
Her brow went up when she saw that an active call was going. A quick glance up evoked a wink from him. "They heard everything," he whispered. "Regardless of what happens, I'm so glad I met you."
Smiling a bit, she went after some chicken with her head down. "I'll put my hair back like you suggested," she whispered to the phone, before Harold put it in his pocket without turning it off.
After dinner, Dumbledore made some announcements that hardly anyone listened to. The glares from most of the student body were alarming, but they changed to confusion when he mentioned the untimely death for anyone entering the third floor corridor.
Afterwards, Hermione wouldn't let go of Harold's arm as they were led to the Ravenclaw common room by the fifth year prefects. When they were shown that the password was a riddle, he questioned the logic behind it.
"The knocker will only ask the riddle to those in Ravenclaw. Anyone else will simply think this is a strange statue on the wall."
That satisfied him.
The colours of blue and silver were everywhere in the common room, and Harold and Hermione's eyes were drawn to the rows of books along two walls. "We have our own library?" Hermione nearly squeaked out in excitement. Harold just grinned.
Interestingly enough, the later class books were on the higher shelves. This was simply idiotic to Harold, who thought a simple Accio could get him anything up there. He didn't voice that though.
Pamphlets were handed out to all the first years. In it was a map that showed where all the classrooms were, a listing of the professors – including wizard photos of said professors – and a small list of common household spells in the back. The only ones he didn't know were the packing and unpacking spells.
After the others were shooed off to their rooms, Hermione gave him another bone crushing hug and a kiss to the cheek before running up the stairs. Turning around, he saw Professor Flitwick nodding to the fifth year prefects. Once they were away, the little professor turned to smile at him.
"Well, Lord Potter or Lord Holmes-Potter?" he asked.
Harold smiled. "Mr. Holmes for everyday classes. However, you may call me Harold. The Lord Potter is for people I don't like."
Nodding with a chuckle, Flitwick held his hand to the side. "Follow me, Harold." Moving to the left of the fireplace, he pulled his wand and tapped on the wall in three different places. Honestly, it reminded Harold of the door to Diagon Alley as the wall opened.
In the archway, a tapestry appeared with the Ravenclaw Crest embroidered on a field of blue. "This is the entrance to the Ravenclaw Lord's Quarters. You need to set a password, but for now let's go up."
A spiral staircase went up three floors. "This stairway will modify itself for you over the years as your legs grow longer, Harold."
"Why three flights up?" he asked as they reached the door. "I don't mind the extra exercise, but I was just curious."
Flitwick grinned as they entered. "The Lord's Quarters are at the top of the tower. You'll have windows in each room. This is the main living area, where you can invite guests. Just no wild parties, please?" Seeing the eye-roll, he chuckled. "Sorry. I'm required to say that. There's a kitchenette through there if you have your own house elf. If not, you can call on Lotty if you wish to eat up here."
"I don't have one at the moment. Dad can't abide the broken English," Harold said, earning a small chuckle.
"Through there is a study with enough shelves for whatever books you brought with you, along with a writing desk for homework or family business. That door is to a guest bedroom for family members, and that one is your room."
Harold was suitably impressed. Nodding when prompted, he simply followed the professor about and didn't ask much. When they were back in the main living area, he noticed him watching him. "I assume you have questions, sir?"
"Plenty," Flitwick agreed with a nod. "First and foremost, I have to ask if all of that was true. Mainly, because it's completely mind boggling that Albus Dumbledore would do such a thing to a child."
Nodding, he held his hand out to one of the chairs. "Let's sit, because this will take a while. I'd offer tea, but…"
There was a pop in the room, and a tea service appeared on the small table between the chairs. "Thank you Lotty," Flitwick said.
"You are welcomes, Professors Flitty," Lotty replied with a smile. "Greetings, youngs lord. I beings Lotty, and I has been givens the honours of servings you. If you have needs, please call me."
Harold smiled. "Thank you, Lotty." After she popped away, he turned to the professor. "Before we begin, why on Earth is there something dangerous in the castle? Also, is the Headmaster truly out of his mind? He announced to everyone that there's something interesting in the third floor corridor. Ten to one there will be excursions by the curious."
Flitwick blinked. "You may have a point, but I'm unable to discuss it."
Nodding with a frown, he began telling his story. He had to stop a few times, due to Flitwicks outbursts. The one after he told him about the poisoning was the longest. After a while, his eyes started drooping.
"We can finish later, Harold. Get some sleep. I'll be handing these out tomorrow, but I have your class schedule here."
"Thank you, sir."
After he was left alone, he took out his trunk and put it in his room to unpack. Snapping his fingers, he went back down to the main entrance tapestry to set the password. When he got back to the main room, he could tell that Lotty was already busy putting his things away. The biggest clue was that his cello was standing in the corner.
There was a pop. "Yes Lord Potter, sir?"
"Just Harold, or Lord Harold if you have to be formal," he said. "Am I your sole duty this year?" There was a small flapping of ears when she nodded. "All right. I would like to thank you in advance for helping me this year. In the morning, in case I'm not awake before six, please rouse me gently. I have a tendency to jump up or smack something if I'm startled awake, so fair warning. I would appreciate some strong coffee when I wake up, milk – two sugars. The smell should be enough to wake me.
"Oh, and if Hermione Granger is up before me and is wondering where I am, please let her know where the entrance is. I set a password already, but haven't done so for her. If she wants to see the room before I'm ready, please allow her entrance?"
Lotty nodded. "I can be doings that for you, Harold, sir."
"Thank you," he smiled. "For now, I'm knackered and need to get to bed."
"Of course, Harold, sir," Lotty nodded. "I've alreadys made the bed for you. Your clothings has been put away in the wardrobe, and your books has been organized in the study. I placed the cello in the main room, and the viola is on your desk in the study."
"You're brilliant, Lotty. Thank you and good night."
"Good night, Harold, sir."
A/N: If you wish to hear the music Harold played on the train, then remove the spaces and listen to this: youtu .be /nzVi_MpVBYg