A King at Hogwarts

Chapter One

He took a deep shuddering breath as he slowly stood up.

And then he blinked.

For he was standing in a classroom at Hogwarts, and at the professor's desk was a horrendous looking woman clad in pink.

"Mr. Potter…is there something you wish to say to the class?"

He blearily looked to his side, where Ronald Weasley was eying him worriedly. He looked for Hermione, and found her not too far away.

Why was she sporting Gryffindor colours now? And why…he looked at his own tie too, and when the crimson and gold colours were found, he nearly gagged.

Just where had he ended up?

"I don't feel very well," he murmured. His right hand went up to his forehead. Was there a scar on it? His fingers touched it gingerly. He had a scar on his head? Since when? Of what?

He turned around with what he acutely knew was a lost look. If this was hell or heaven, then it was the strangest one ever.

"This type of attention-seeking is the worst, Mr. Potter," the woman clipped back in an icy tone. "Not only are you still believing in Voldemort's return —which is preposterous— you also dare interrupt my lesson!"

"Harry, mate, sit down," Ron Weasley whispered next to him.



He groaned in frustration as he clenched his fists. He took a step out of the desk and turned to leave.

"Mr. Potter! Come back here! It will be fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention! You cann—"

Leaving the classroom behind, Harry's gaze went to the closest portrait.

"Where's the infirmary?"

The portrait —a plump woman that looked in her fifties— snorted back at him before shrugging off.

Weren't the portraits supposed to be helpful?

He decided to hope that, against all odds, the infirmary was still at the usual place within the castle. He didn't need long to find it, the door the same as well as the bronze plaque near it that warned students of Madam Pomfrey's hours.

There wasn't a tag for his mother though —maybe in this strange world she didn't work as the nurse?

And just what the hell was the pink-dressed woman's problem? Was she a councillor or one of the electives' teachers? Maybe…maybe she was the Ghoul studies one? If he actually was in a world where he was a Gryffindor —a bloody, horrible and stupidly thuggish Gryffindor— then there might be other changes…

He wondered how Draco actually would take this.

Harry decided to take a tour of the castle, since his mother wasn't there…maybe his father?

No, apparently there was a 'Dolores Umbridge' at the head of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Maybe his parents simply hadn't become professors? And where was Lillian to begin with?

He couldn't take a step without her nearly hounding him, and with the way he had acted she should have been on his case in seconds.

He couldn't trust many people, and judging by the long robes he was wearing he had probably grown a few more inches. And what was the deal with Ron calling him 'mate'?

His hands pushed apart the wooden doors of the library. He could stay in there as he waited for the answers to come to him, he supposed.

No doubt the woman would warn the Headmaster, who would in turn ask a professor to come and take him to his office. He didn't want to risk ending up lost in the castle —in its good days, the castle itself was a maze to the unwary.

His thoughts turned to be correct, as he was found by Professor McGonagall one hour later. Long enough for him to peruse the Defence Against the Dark Arts text, showing him it was a fifth year material, and long enough to understand that he needed to meet with the Bloody Baron urgently.

But the Bloody Baron worked for Peeves… didn't he take orders from King Arthur in ghost form?

"Mr. Potter!" the stern woman looked at him with her usual gaze, albeit this time around he sensed a sort of worry behind those eyes he had not usually seen. It was more suspicion from where he came from, rather than worry. He had chosen the corner of the library, hidden among the shelves and out of sight from most of the students' body.

"Professor," Harry replied calmly. His gaze locked with hers.

"Mr. Potter?" the woman recoiled slightly, taking a step back.

Had he done something wrong, he wondered?

"Is there a problem?" he supplied with a helpful tone.

The woman seemed lost for a second, before nodding decisively. "Yes there is indeed a problem, Mr. Potter! Never in all my years at Hogwarts have I seen such disrespect for a professor! And you weren't even in the infirmary! Had you not lied, I would have defended you but in this situation…"

Harry nodded slowly, once.

His gaze settled once more on the professor.

"Mr. Potter… Are you all right?" the woman's lecture had trailed off, and she was now looking at him with something akin to worry. It was evidently creeping in her voice…but for what reason? There was no way she could have read into his mind.

"I am," he acknowledged. "You seem perplexed. Did you expect me to…" he frowned, "to be skittering and nervous?"

The old woman took a deep breath, before muttering a soft curse in old Scottish.

"Mr. Potter, did you just read my mind?"

"Superficially," Harry admitted —no need hiding it. "You are Dumbledore's choice for bringing me to him, correct?"

"Aye," why was she nervous now? "Are ye…are ye the Dark Lord?"

"What nonsense are you spouting now, Professor?" Harry blinked as his face morphed into a puzzled one. "I'm Harry Potter. If I were the Dark Lord…I'd be acting like one, right?"

"You most certainly ain't acting like me student Potter!" the woman's outburst was met with her taking out her wand and pointing it at point-blank at him. "Who the bloody hell are ye then!?"

"I," he replied calmly as he slowly stood up.

"Am," he added as a familiar weight in the side of his robes slowly made its way up to his waiting palm.

He smiled then, he smiled as the wand reached for his palm and struck with a silent Trudo the Scottish professor straight in the chest —sending her to tumble and crash against the shelf on the other side. He hadn't wanted to kill her, but as he eyed his wand he scowled slightly.

"King," he softly added as an afterthought, as he gave his back to the professor and began to walk towards the Headmaster's office. He had skimmed most of the woman's thoughts, but what he had needed to know he had acquired.

The office, or the gargoyle for what mattered, hadn't moved.

"Move aside," he remarked to the statue which remained immobile.

"Lemon Drops," he supplied.

"Icy Roaches? Liquorice Leeches? Jellybeans? Spritz? Water? Sparkling Water? Oh for the love of Merlin!" he snarled. "Open up in the name of Hogwarts' heir!"

That earned a reaction, as the Gargoyle opened its eyes and stared at him for a second, before he slowly moved aside.

"Was that difficult?" he mumbled to himself as he stepped into the lion's den. The fact he was holding onto his wand as he carefully walked inside was just a sign of his cautiousness. Silently, his gaze went to the desk where the Headmaster was in wait with his hands clasped together and his eyes fixedly pointed at the instruments to the side of his office.

"Are you familiar with a Sneak-o-scope?" the old wizard asked wearily, as a flash of red light caught Harry's attention. Sitting on the perch near his desk was…


"Sophie?" he whispered, looking at the phoenix who stared back at him with curious eyes. There was softness in them, something that soon tugged at his heartstrings, before the fire bird gave a soft chirp and flew to land on his shoulder.

In that moment the Headmaster let out a long and dreary sigh of relief.

"Thank Merlin for small mercies," the man's hands went to rub his tired eye-lids. "I had no idea what to do, should the worst have happened."

"The worst?" Harry remarked, bringing up an eyebrow as he gently petted Sophie's head.

"I assume you are not Harry Potter then? Are you one of his friends I knew not of? Under Polyjuice perchance?" the old wizard asked again with a slightly more relaxed tone. "In any event, while I can understand your helpfulness in keeping young Harry out of classes, I would like you to terminate the enchantment on yourself and…"

"I am Harry Potter," he supplied back. "Son of James and Lily Potter, only…well…" how much could he tell? He narrowed his eyes.

"Do you vouch for him, Sophie?" he whispered to the phoenix, which moved her head to the side before nodding eagerly.

"Sophie? It is the second time I hear you call Fawkes that name, and yet I cannot fathom why you would," Albus' hands clasped together as he waited for Harry's words.

"Because from where I come from, Fawkes was reborn as Sophie the day she left your service forever," he shrugged as he answered back. "From where I come from I am Harry Potter, brother of the Girl-Who-Lived, Ravenclaw Third Year and heir of Hogwarts." He's slid over the death of Karkaroff, the training with Gellert, his escape from England, his return, his friendship with Heather…was the basilisk still safe here at professor's Snape's mansion?

The man's eyes met his for a split second, and within the next both had each other's wands pointed. Albus had raised his own in response to Harry's, but that didn't mean anything as both were now deadly serious in grasping their respective weapons.

"You tried to read my mind," Harry accused.

"I was just seeking confirmation," Albus remarked calmly. "Nothing more, I assure you."

"I cannot trust you, not until you prove to me you are not like the one I know."

The man frowned, before quietly asking.

"Have I proven myself untrustworthy to you, Mr. Potter?"

"You mean, except trying to frame me for the murders at Hogwarts?"

"I— I would never!" the icy blue eyes widened slightly in disbelief, as the headmaster's skin paled considerably. "I can understand your distrust then in my regards, but what else can you do to prove who you are?"

Harry closed his eyes, bringing his right hand up to his chin as he began to think. "I think some things might be different, but how much they are I will have to discover them by myself." He hesitated. "Is Gellert still alive here?"

There was silence in the room, as Albus' eyes peered into Harry's face. "Was he," Dumbledore's was voice seemed to hold some strange sort of hope in his tone, "was he my opposite then? I can sense your distrust of me, so maybe…was Grindelwald a fighter for the light?"

"Light doesn't exist," Harry remarked calmly, "only different shades of grey. He was my teacher, during the period I spent exiled from England because of… the other-Dumbledore? I suppose I can use that as a name convention." Harry whispered the last part. "He was killed at Hogwarts, by your hand as you claimed, when he tried to claim the school as Salazar Slytherin marched towards it."

"Salazar himself?" Albus' eyes seemed to twinkle now. "What an interesting world you come from," the headmaster added. "Was he defeated?"

"I hoped so," he croaked out. He shook his head then. "I was wrong. I battled him throughout the sea, sunk his ships and worked my way to him…in the end it was Nicholas Flamel who did the deed —I was forced to take the laurel as you and Fudge asked me to. Turns out he had possessed Fudge. He was the one who sent me through the Veil at the ministry."

Harry breathed slowly then, his right hand moving to his mouth. "I'm still…a bit shocked I suppose. It's been little since it happened and…"

"I understand," Albus nodded soothingly. "Well, I cannot detect lies in your speech, albeit you are holding back something from me —but I cannot fault you now, can I? In any event, you claimed to be a third year of Ravenclaw? Most curious…I suppose your upbringing was different?"

"I have nothing to compare it to," he remarked wistfully, "but my parents' memories are a fond thing for me."

"You have yet to lower your wand," Albus calmly added then, as if it was an afterthought.

"You have yet to tell your phoenix to leave my shoulder," he replied smoothly. "I know how fierce a phoenix can be after all."

There was a nod from Albus, and Fawkes chirped before flying back on his perch.

Harry placed the wand back into his belt.

"By the way," he began calmly. "I need to get my wand back."

"Oh? It is not the same wand?" Dumbledore was now visibly curious. "Of course," he blinked. "You are the brother of the Girl-Who-Lived? Your parents were still alive then?"

"Yeah," he acquiesced. "Didn't know about them till end of the first year, when you decided that obliviating me and using me as bait for Voldemort was a nice idea."

There was quite the wince from the headmaster now, who seemed to be clasping his hands tightly together.

"What monster was I, to use a child in such a way?" Albus murmured in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. "I must have gone insane."

"Ah, don't tell me," Harry shrugged. "Thankfully I recovered all of my memories, but…" he blinked. "Is Snape here still loyal to you?"

"Professor Snape is," Albus added. "I suppose that with your parents alive, he was different?"

"I still don't have anything to compare this one to the past one," Harry said. "But Severus was quite the spy and to this moment I still don't know which side he is on."

"First name basis?"

"He is not here to say any different, and he was the one who hid me away from you and suggested Durmstrang as my 'exile' location —sent me straight in Gellert's hands too."

"I wonder, what type of education did you receive?"

Harry just smiled.

"The best," he chuckled. "Seriously though, I can suppose my parents are dead here?"

"You don't seem sad about it."

"Dumbledore's men throughout —my mother was slightly different but…" he shrugged. "In the big scheme of things I didn't have much time to get to know them better. Worrying about surviving your schemes, training and the likes…all took their toll on my 'normality'."

"I am sorry."

"Doesn't matter," Harry shook his head. "I still don't trust you and you still don't trust me, so how about we just do this the old way and we both go on our own road? I might have hit your Professor McGonagall with a Trudo spell, though I did make sure she wasn't even bleeding from it."

"It seems your practical side is up with far more than the fifth year curriculum," Albus agreed as he stood up. "The theory with you as a Ravenclaw will be easy to fill. I will give you a one week suspension from lessons. Officially as punishment, unofficially as a mean to study what you have missed. It is little time, I admit, but it is far more than—"

Then the door of the office opened up, as a huffing Minerva arrived with her wand in hand.

"Albus! He's not—"

"I know!" Albus brought up his right hand to stop the Scottish woman from firing another spell. "And he meant you no harm, Minerva. He is Mr. Potter, worry not. Just…not ours, I suppose."

Harry nodded. "I am sorry, Professor McGonagall, for my actions —when you reacted in that way I just…attacked."

"Understandable due to his background Minerva, rest assured I will fill you in on what you need to know, like I will the other professors I trust." Implicitly, Harry knew he meant Snape.

"But Dumbledore, he could be—"

"Now, Minerva…" Dumbledore's gaze on the woman was stern. "Trust me."

Harry snorted. "I'll take my leave then," he added. "I wonder, is Hermione still a book-smart?"

"Yes Mr. Potter, she is."

"Good to know."

With those words, Harry walked out of Dumbledore's office with a quick stride, his legs taking him across the corridors of Hogwarts and towards the Gryffindor's common rooms. He just checked with a portrait to be sure. The fat lady looked at him for a split second, before asking.


"I am the heir of Hogwarts," Harry remarked rolling his eyes.

"Most certainly you are—" and then the portrait swung aside. "That's not—"

Harry ignored the voice as he made his way through the tunnel. Really, did they have to use a tunnel across a wall to reach their common rooms? He always wondered why nobody had realized sooner that these 'common rooms' were actually storage spots, at least to the old architect's plans. They might have thought normal to trudge along a narrow shaft to enter their commons…but he certainly didn't.

The moment he stepped through the common room, a worried voice reached his ears.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she fussed near him.

"Mate! You showed the Toad didn't you! Next time can you avoid the loss of points?" Ron Weasley towed behind Hermione. Really, his alternate self was friends with Ron Weasley? Maybe the boy wasn't as thick as the other one, or maybe —just maybe— there actually was some type of brain damage in his other self.

"I'll try," he replied.

"Did madam Pomfrey heal you? Are you all right now?" Hermione's mothering tone actually made him nervous. She wasn't his Hermione: the one with a slightly psychopathic streak and a need to prove herself to him every five seconds. This one seemed…even bossy.

"I am," he answered. His gaze moved around the room, taking in the gold and the red. "I might need your help studying though," he added.

There was silence as the two looked at him quietly.

"Harry? Mate? You all right?"

"I am fine Wea— Ron," he forcefully replied with a light smile. "I just think I would very much like to start studying now. Seeing how I was suspended for an entire week, I suppose—"

"An entire week of suspension!?" Hermione's screech actually made him wince. "Harry James Potter! How could you!"

He shrugged.

That was a mistake.

The moment Hermione finished her tongue-lashing of his 'irresponsible behaviour' he smiled. He smiled and calmly he took a few steps forward before hugging the girl tightly.

"Now, now, all done?" he playfully said as he tapped the back of the girl's head.

There was a stammering, a set of eyes all fixed on them, and then Harry's chuckle as he let go of the hug. He crossed his arms over his chest with a light grin, watching the red inflamed cheeks of Hermione with amusement as the girl seemed to be looking to the right and to the left.

"Th-That's not! We have to make up a study plan now!" she huffed as she spun around, moving towards the closest table. "And you better follow it!"

"Mate," Ron whispered to his side. He looked hurt actually. "What's up with you?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry remarked. "I just feel like a different person altogether," he shrugged and grinned at the improvised pun.

Now, if only he could access the Chamber of Secrets…

Everything would be even better.

Author's notes

Spin-Off of Harry Dursley and the Chronicles of the King.

Sporadically updated at best.

Was trying to find a way to tell the people not to worry, and that the HDCOK new chapter was on its way without doing one of those 'update! New chapter incoming!' things.

My excuse? There isn't one. I finished Bioshock Infinite and literally steam-wrote a fanfiction of it. That's it. I wrote it so fast that now that it's finished, I'm back to writing HDCOK and the rest of the fanfics. That's really all there is.

For the occasional reader: Harry Dursley in his latest chapter ended up through the Veil in the Department of Mystery. Wearing the invisibility cloak and backed up by quite the number of prophecies, he managed to survive through it until the moment where he ended up killing his past self to avoid a set of mistakes and errors, thus rewriting the past, present and future. And because of that he ended up (here) in the alternate universe which is canon Harry Potter verse of fifth year.

And that's all for this chapter.