Climb into the Chao with a friend or twoAnd follow the Way it carries you.Adrift like a Lunatic Lifeboat CrewOver the Waves in whatever you do.The Honest Book of Truth; The Book of Advise, 1:3
Harry got his Hogwarts letter days before his eleventh birthday, which precipitated much dancing from Sirius and Remus and echoing war cries on Harry's part. He was all smiles the rest of the day, occasionally humming what he claimed was the Hogwarts school song.
As the school song had no set melody, this could well be true Remus reminded Sirius. Sirius merely sniffed, his musical sensibilities offended by the boy's loud, off-key, and nasal humming.
Towards the end of August Sirius and Remus took Harry to Diagon Alley for his school supplies. Harry never tired of the bright and glittery atmosphere of Diagon and Sirius very seriously considered using a leash charm to keep him nearby.
Harry also never tired of the gawking—he was the Boy Who Lived and he knew it. He basked in the attention like a cat in the sun and never ceased to be amused that a scar made him something special. Some of the stupider gawkers would ask him if he remembered anything from that night; sometimes he would be honest and say that he didn't, other times he would weave wild stories about his mother or father duelling Voldemort and nearly winning.
Harry entertained himself in the apothecary while Sirius shopped for his potions stuff—alternating between those wild and tangled stories and the truth, never telling the same story and never within in the earshot of anyone he had told a different story. Remus could not help but admire the hellion he and Sirius had wrought between them.
The matter of Harry's wand had Sirius grinning. Everyone's first reaction to Ollivander was individual and utterly hilarious. Remus on the other hand, knew that Harry was aware of Sirius's joyous anticipation.
They walked through the small round door made of thin crystal that lead into the shop, a soft tinkle alerting Ollivander to their presence. The pale man peeked over a counter, his poof of dandelion white hair surrounding his head like a snowy halo and his pale blue eyes scrutinizing them.
“Sirius Black, oak and dragon heart string, twelve and a half inches, sturdy and good for transfiguration. Remus Lupin, ironwood and unicorn hair, thirteen inches, ideal for defensive purposes. And Harry Potter, as of yet wandless. Wondered when I'd be seeing you.” He stood up, his lanky frame unfolding as he stared at Harry.
Sirius, throughout the greeting had been avidly watching Harry's face, nodding distractedly when Ollivander spoke to him. With great effort, Harry kept his expression neutral, offering a smile when the old man spoke to him.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said evenly.
Ollivander smiled. “Shall we get started?”
Harry nodded and immediately half a dozen measuring tapes whizzed out of a box on the counter top and raced over his body. Sirius laughed when Harry couldn't stop his shock and embarrassment from showing.
The elderly man squinted at the results the quill was writing, hmm'ing , and scratching his chin thoughtfully before disappearing into the back of the shop when the tapes returned themselves to their box. There was the sound of someone rummaging through boxes and shelves, and a crash and swearing when something fell, and with a cloud of dust on his heels, Ollivander reappeared with a fistful of wands.
Harry took them one by one and waved them. First, a vase exploded, then Sirius's hair nearly caught on fire, and when the box of tape measures was changed into a litter of Yorkshire puppies Harry devolved into giggles.
Finally, after several more dust clouds, doggy yelps, and the smell of wet cat, Harry picked up the last wand on the table. A feeling of soft, smiling warmth flowed up his arm and when he waved it, steel sparks glittered in the air, surrounded by a soft red and gold mist.
Ollivander threw him a lopsided smile, “Interesting color of sparks, Mr. Potter. Phoenix feather and holly,.”
Harry smiled.
In the days before the train left, Sirius and Remus spoilt Harry, taking him for ice cream, out for Chinese, and to the beach.
Harry wolf whistled when a curvy woman in tiny bikini caught Remus's eye and winked as he helped build Harry's sandcastle. She paused, threw Harry a smile, and looked expectantly at Remus who blushed and shifted uncertainly. Sirius smirked him and Remus took courage from it, walking out to meet her. Within moments, she had latched on to his arm and was flirting outrageously.
Sirius adjusted his sunglasses and looked over at Harry. “Think she needs to visit someone about her eyes?” he asked with a laugh.
Harry snickered as he etched a window into the side of his elaborate creation with a pilfered tooth pick.
Within an hour, Remus came back as fast as decorum would allow, her hot on his heels.
“But Reeeemy! We've hardly met and now you're rushing off?” she whined, tossing brassy blonde locks over one shoulder and pouting.
His grimace resembled a smile if the viewer squinted, “I, uh, need to get back to—”
“—Your son? Is he? He's so cute!” she pointed at Harry.
Remus's expression begged him to play along, “Yeah. He, uh, resembles his other dad more, though.”
She stopped. “Oh. Oh,” she looked between Sirius and Harry and then at Remus.
Harry smiled up at Remus. “Want to help me finish my castle?” he asked.
“Sure,” he agreed and plopped down next to Harry, picking up another tooth pick.
“Well,” the woman said awkwardly, “it was, uh, nice talking to you.”
“Indeed,” Remus said, lying through his teeth. Once she left, he dropped the tooth pick and dropped back on the sand with an exasperated sigh. “Too good to be true.”
“What?” asked Sirius.
Remus peered around his arm at the other man, “Blonde, nice body, big tits. I hoped there was a brain in there. There wasn't and she was in my lap inside fifteen minutes.”
“The tart,” commented Harry, staring at his castle and obviously deliberating what to do next.
Remus stared at Harry for a moment and laughed. Sirius snickered. “I have done well,” he announced to the world at large.
Harry nodded and Remus shook his head. He turned to look at Sirius, “Thank you for playing along. Gay and unavailable was the best I could come up with.”
Sirius grinned, “Snookie-poo, that's all right. You know how I love it when you use me.”
Remus stared at Sirius, nonplussed. “You frighten me,” he said after a long moment.
“I do what I can,” Sirius nodded solemnly.
September first rolled around, and Sirius and Remus were torn between jumping up and down with joy and moping because Harry was finally off to Hogwarts.
“Rather nostalgic, isn't it?” Remus asked Sirius, who nodded, as he fussed with Harry's hair.
Harry scowled and tried to escape Remus's clutches, only to be dragged back. “What are you, my mum?” he groused.
Remus paused, “Sorry.”
Harry grinned, “'S all right.”
Sirius knelt before Harry and looked at him very seriously, “Do you remember when the kitchens are?”
“Behind the fruit still life on the ground floor. Tickle the pear and it becomes a door handle,”Harry said promptly.
“Very good,” nodded Sirius. “We feel we should discourage you from looking for secret tunnels at this point. Wait 'till you're a bit older, okay?”
Harry nodded solemnly, “And then you'll drop hints, right?”
Sirius nodded back and Remus remained silent. Harry was entirely too wily and while he would probably heed Sirius's advice when it came to actually using them, he would certainly find them within the first year or two.
“Let's get a move on,” he said after a moment. “Ought to get there a bit early, so we can fuss over you publicly.”
Harry pursed his lips, “Do it and suffer my wrath at Christmas.”
“Right,” Remus agreed. Harry's wrath matched both Sirius's and his late mother's. But he had risked those for years as a friend and Prefect so he thought he could handle it.
“Or possibly before,” Harry added. “Beware of Duhr's deliveries. They may explode in glitter. Pink glitter.”
“I still can't believe you named your owl Duhr,” Sirius said, shaking his head.
“Ah, but I did!” Harry said cheekily. “'Duhr the owl.' That has a nice ring to it.”
“No,” said Remus, “it doesn't. That's why you picked it.”
“All right, it has a stupid ring to it,” he said.
Sirius's face was screwed up with repressed laughter. “Only you, Harry. Only you,” he said finally.
The child grinned, “And who's fault is that?”
“Ours,” said Remus. He paused, “You little monkey! Distracting us with stupidly named owls and pink glitter! Out! Grab his trunk, Sirius.” Remus ushered a grinning Harry towards the fireplace and grabbed the pot that held the Floo powder.
Remus and Harry stepped into green flames, landing gracefully on the hearth of the receiving fireplace. After a moment, Sirius followed, perched on Harry's trunk as it flew out of the fireplace, skidding and spinning across the floor.
“You used a sticking charm, didn't you?” asked Remus when the flying trunk came to halt.
Sirius nodded and unstuck himself from the lid of the trunk, standing up.
Harry scurried over to his luggage. “You did not!” he said, examining it for damage.
“Ah, but I did!” he grinned.
“I hate you,” Harry told him, hands his hips.
“I love you, too,” Sirius replied. “Even when you give owls stupid names and tell me you hate me, though it wounds me so.”
“Shuddup, Sirius.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Now, shall we drop off my trunk? I'll let you fuss over me if you can do it without a feather-light charm, Sirius,” he challenged.
“Fussing,” he answered lightly, “is Remus's department. Let him lug it.”
“I'll fuss over you either way and you'll like it,” Remus told him, casting the charm on the bulky trunk. “And knowing you, you've somehow managed to make the thing weigh a metric tonne.”
Harry sighed, “You caught me. Can we go now?”
Both adults shook their heads and the trio moved towards the train, dropping off Harry's belongings at the designated location.
True to his word, Remus spent the last fifteen minutes fussing over Harry and Sirius joined in, making Harry scowl. The train whistle sounded.
“Go on,” Sirius urged.
“Or you'll not be able to get a decent compartment,” Remus added.
Harry gave them a brilliant smile and hugged both of them before scampering on to the train.
Skilfully navigating the crush of students, Harry secured himself an empty compartment at the end of the train. He lounged in the sun, enjoying the peace he was sure he would never get while on the ground of Hogwarts.
The door slid open and he cracked an eye open to see red hair peeking around the entryway. He caught sight of Harry and his eyes widened.
“Uhm...you're Harry Potter, right?”
“I am,” he agreed amicably, closing his eyes again.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, sounding a little more sure of himself when Harry didn't act like a complete prat.
“Sure,” Harry nodded. “Spread out anywhere I'm not.” He was currently occupying an entire bench.
“Right,” the boy agreed. “Thanks.”
“'Welcome,” he nodded.
The other boy shuffled around and there was the sound of a compressing cushion as he sat down. “Ron Weasley,” he said into the silence.
Harry opened his eyes and sat up, looking at Ron. “Pleased to meet you—again,” he said, offering his hand.
Ron shook it after hesitating for a moment. Harry grinned at him and flopped over.
“Have you really got...the scar?” he asked softly.
“Didn't you ask this last time? And have you really got fifteen siblings?” Harry replied tartly.
Ron looked offended, “No, only six. And I don't remember meeting you.”
“Well, I haven't got any. And yes, I have the scar.”
“Want to buy one of my siblings off me? A galleon for the oldest two, six sickles for the twins or my sister, and a knut for Percy,” Ron offered, trying to be sociable.
Harry grinned, “Percy, hmm? Must be a right pain if you only want a knut.”
“He is,” Ron agreed.
“Sounds like a good deal, really, but I'm quite happy as an only child. And I don't think Sirius would appreciate it if I brought home one of you lot. The cottage is small and there's two or three of us there at any given time.”
“I thought you said you were an only child,” Ron frowned.
“I am, but Sirius's friend Remus practically lives with us a lot of the time. He's got his own room and a book case, even.”
“Ah,” said Ron.
“That's a sign you've got a home with Sirius and I," Harry explained, "when you have a bed and a book case all to yourself. Remus's is enormous—takes up half the wall, it does.”
Ron nodded, “With us, you either share a room with a brother or a ghoul. Unless you're Ginny, in which case you share a room with a cat.”
Harry nodded, “Makes sense.”
The rest of the ride was relatively uneventful, interrupted only by a missing toad search party.
“Toads,” Harry scoffed. “Blegh,” he added after a moment.
Ron nodded. “I've got a rat, myself. Crazy little thing,” he said patting a lump in his shirt pocket.
“What's his name?” asked Harry.
“Used to be Scabbers, but I've renamed him in honor of his former master. I call him Prissy.”
Harry laughed, “That's excellent!”
“I rather like it,” he agreed. “Got a companion, too?” Ron asked, grinning.
Harry nodded. “An owl named Duhr.”
“Duhr?” Ron asked incredulously.
“Duhr,” Harry confirmed.
“What kind of name is that?” asked Ron with befuddled amusement.
“It's Arabic. And a name for a star,” he said airily.
“But Duhr? Couldn't you have named it, I dunno, Dirk or something?”
“Yes, but I chose Duhr and Duhr he shall remain,” said Harry firmly.
Ron nodded with a snicker. “I think I shall enjoy calling him that.”
They arrived and Hagrid, who Harry remembered from his birthday parties escorted the first years across the lake. The castle was more spectacular than he had heard, lit like a lantern against the starry night sky. The tiny schooners took them across the lake and the giant squid glided under their boats. Harry grinned and regaled his boat-mates with a story of the Marauders and the Squid Dye Job of 1975.
McGonagall greeted them at the dock and lead them to the doors of the Great Hall. She disappeared for a brief while, and they began to quietly chatter.
“You must be Harry Potter,” a voice broke through his conversation with Ron.
Harry looked over at the source of the voice and immediately, the boy set his teeth on edge. “Yes,” he said crisply. “You must be Deacon Malfoy.”
The boy looked offended, “Draco Malfoy.”
“Draco, Deacon,” Harry shrugged.
“I see you're only fit for the likes of a Weasley for a companion,” Malfoy sneered.
Harry raised an eyebrow, “You shouldn't talk about family that way.”
“Family?” both Ron and Malfoy sputtered.
“Yes,” nodded Harry. “You do happen to be related. My guardian is your mother's first cousin and your grandmother, Ron, was a Black, too.” He looked at the two of them, who were both confused and livid, “Didn't you know?”
“My grandmother doesn't talk about her family much,” Ron ground out. “Now I know why.”
“And your grandmother, if she's really a Black, was probably burned off the family tree and rightfully so,” replied Malfoy.
Harry shrugged, “You're still related. Now, kindly go away, Deacon. I was having a lovely conversation with Ron.”
Malfoy stalked away and Harry looked at Ron, “My guardian, Sirius, is a Black. Don't tar all of them with the same brush. Most of them are awful, but a handful are awesome.”
“Right,” agreed Ron, though he looked dubious.
She gave the speech Remus and Sirius had warned him she would before throwing open the doors and leading them to the wings of the room.
The hat, which Harry had heard about, opened its brim to sing, effectively shutting up the annoying girl talking about the properties of the ceiling above them. He silently thanked Merlin as he listened to the song.
“Oh you may not think I'm pretty...”
And the sorting began.
“Abbot, Hannah,” became a Hufflepuff and “Bixler, Melvin,” became a Ravenclaw. McGonagall made her way through the list of names and at last called, “Potter, Harry.”
Calmly, though he was antsy inside, Harry made his way to the stool and she placed the hat on his head.
The first words it said, “Oh my.” Followed by, “You're a right little bastard, aren't you?” It seemed amused as it sorted through his head.
“Possibly,” Harry replied noncommittally.
“Hm, where to put you, where to put you? I think you'd make Ravenclaw miserable, and the Hufflepuffs confused. And—oh dear—Professor Snape would have an apoplexy if I put you in Slytherin, not to mention what you'd do to your housemates. Deacon Malfoy indeed!”
“Hey, he started it. I'm just going to laugh at him until he quits.”
“Which means he'll never quit.”
“An endless source of amusement, then.”
The hat sighed. “Gryffindor!” it called.
The table on the left side of the hall burst out into cheers and applause.
Harry grinned and sauntered over to the table, settling down in an empty seat.
Oh god, Snape thought. I had forgotten Potter was coming this year. Oh god.
A/N: The person or persons who identify all or some the joke and references in the series will get mittens and cookies and, if they like, a oneshot dedicated to them on the topic of their choice. This will apply throughout the story. Suggestions: look up hoaxapedia and Black Iron Prison. :D I look forward to the oneshots.