Chapter Text
A boy of just eleven years old, about 15 cm too short for his age, ran through the alleys of London. He had waist-length, jet-black hair and beautiful yellow-green eyes. His skin was pale, not sickly pale, but of a graceful pallor. His hair was tousled and fell into his face, so that the scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his cheekbone was barely visible.
He wore a black turtleneck top with a dark blue jumper over it, his hands were covered with black gloves, and his pants were made of black velvet. The boots he wore were made of dragon leather, but only those who knew of the existence of dragons could recognize this: wizards, witches, and other magical beings.
When he stood in front of the door of "The Leaky Cauldron", it opened without him speaking or even touching it. None of the people in the pub noticed him as he walked between them to a door leading to a small backyard, where he waved his hand and the wall opened. When he stepped through it, it closed again with no passageway visible.
The boy walked through the huge crowd of witches, wizards, owls, and flying objects before stopping in front of a shop and going inside. "Good day," said a gentle voice. "How can I help you..." The voice trailed off as the man turned around. "Weren't you here yesterday, Mr. Potter? But somehow you seem different..." Mr. Ollivander's voice trailed off and he looked confused. The boy's only response to Mr. Ollivander's question was a shake of his head and a gentle smile.
The train jerked forward. Harry saw the boys' mother and little sister waving goodbye, half laughing, half crying. They ran alongside until the train picked up speed, then they stopped and waved.
The train went around a curve and Harry lost sight of the girl and her mother. Houses passed by outside the window. Suddenly, Harry felt very excited. He didn't know what to expect—but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.
The compartment door slid open and a boy entered. He looked almost exactly like Harry, except he had much longer hair, no glasses, his clothes weren't too big or torn, and most importantly, he didn't have a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, but a scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his cheekbone.
The boys looked at each other, and when the unfamiliar 'Harry' entered the compartment and closed the door behind him, Harry asked uncertainly, "W-who are you?"
The stranger did not respond, but merely gazed into Harry's eyes as Harry heard a pleasant voice in his head. /Hello, Harris. We finally meet. I have been searching for you for the past two years, but you were untraceable, as if a powerful dark spell had been cast upon you. My name is Liralis Evan Potter./
Harry stared at the other man, speechless. 'What does he mean? Liralis Evan Potter? That can't be true, can it? And did he just call me Harris?'
When he found his voice again, Harry asked, "How can you be a Potter too? And why are you calling me Harris?" /As for your name, your full name here is Harris James Potter. I am your older twin. However, we were separated before you were born./ "Why?" asked Harris, visibly confused.
/When I was born, it was determined that it would be fatal for me to grow up in Great Britain. Our parents, together with our godfather and another friend of our parents, decided to place me with a foster family in Romania, who were to raise me until I was nine years old. However, when I arrived in London at the age of nine, I learned that our parents had apparently been killed by Voldemort.
I also learned that you grew up with Muggles who are supposedly related to us. Since I had no family in England, an acquaintance of our father James took me in. That's where I lived until a few days ago./
"If you lived there, where do you live now?" Harris wanted to know.
/At Potter Castle/, was the short answer.
"At Potter Castle?! Our family owns an entire castle?!" was Harris's slightly horrified response. Without realizing it, he had said 'our family'.
Liralis smiled at his brother and nodded.
/Yes, because the Potter family is older than some people may think./
Opening the compartment door, they moved toward the train door to be among the first to disembark.
Harris looked different when he got off, as Liralis had worked a little magic on him. He no longer wore glasses, but could still see clearly, even better than before. He wore his Hogwarts school robes, but most importantly, his scar had faded significantly. When Liralis enchanted him, it felt as if something inside him had broken.
He didn't know exactly what Liralis had done, but he was glad she had, because now he would hopefully attract less attention. He had never liked attention.
The twins heard a loud voice that was familiar to Harris. "First-years! First-years, over here! Everything okay, Harry? Where are your glasses?" "I don't need them anymore. Liralis here helped me. And my name is Harris, not Harry."
After that, the first-years followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path. It was so dark around them that Harris suspected there must be dense trees on both sides. Hardly anyone spoke a word as they followed the half-giant through the darkness.
"Just a moment, and you'll see Hogwarts for the first time in your lives," Hagrid called over his shoulder. Then they rounded a bend and there was a loud "Ohhhhhhh!"
The narrow path suddenly ended and they stood on the shore of a large black lake. Across it, on the top of a high mountain, windows sparkling in the raven-black sky, sat a huge castle with many battlements and towers: Hogwarts.
"No more than five in a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of small boats bobbing on the shore.
After Harris and Liralis had taken their seats in one of the boats, three other first-year students joined them.
There were two boys and one girl. One boy had white-blond hair, while the other had black skin and strikingly light eyes. The girl talked incessantly; her hair was black and cut into a bob.
"Everyone in?" Hagrid's loud voice rang out, so they forgot to introduce themselves to each other. "Well then—FORWARD!"
The small boats set off at the same time and glided across the mirror-smooth lake. Everyone was silent, even the girl with the black bob, and stared up at the large castle. It sat enthroned up there as they approached the rock on which it was built.
"Heads down!" Hagrid shouted as the first boats reached the rock; they ducked, and the little boats seemed to float through a curtain of ivy that opened right in front of the rock. They glided through a dark tunnel that seemed to lead deep beneath the castle until they reached a kind of underground harbor and climbed out of the boats.
"Hey, you there! Is that your toad?" called Hagrid, who was eyeing the boats as the students disembarked.
"Trevor!" cried one boy blissfully, reaching out his hands. Then they trudged up a rocky passageway behind Hagrid's lamp and finally emerged onto a soft, damp meadow in the shadow of the castle.
They climbed a long stone staircase and gathered in front of the castle's huge oak gate.
"Everyone here? Hey, you there, still got your toad?"
Hagrid raised his enormous fist and knocked three times on the castle gate.
The gate opened immediately. Standing before them was a tall witch with black hair and an emerald green cloak. She had a stern face, and Harris's first thought was that she was definitely not someone to mess with.
She welcomed the first-years, introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and explained what would happen next, which houses there were and what characteristics were attributed to them, and a few other things. She also suggested that the students get themselves ready as best they could.
When Professor McGonagall left the chamber they were standing in, Harris nervously tried to smooth his hair. To make this easier, Liralis conjured a comb and they both combed their hair. It didn't help much, and may even have made it worse.
"Line up in order and follow me," Professor McGonagall instructed the students as soon as she returned.
Harris, whose legs felt like they were made of lead, lined up behind a boy with reddish-blond hair. Liralis, who was standing behind him, placed a reassuring hand on Harris's shoulder, and in single file, they left the chamber, walked through the entrance hall, and entered the Great Hall through a double door.
Harris had never seen anything like it before. Thousands upon thousands of candles floated above four long tables where the students sat, illuminating the hall. The tables were covered with gleaming golden plates and goblets, and even the cutlery seemed to be made of gold. At the other end of the hall was another long table where the teachers sat. Professor McGonagall led the first-years there, so that they finally stood in a row in front of the older students, with their backs to the teachers.
When Harris looked up, he saw a velvety black ceiling studded with stars.
He could already hear his brother's voice: /The ceiling is enchanted to look like the sky outside./
Harris looked at his brother in admiration as he wondered how his twin could possibly know that.
Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged chair without a backrest on the floor and put an old, shabby hat on it, regaining everyone's attention.
To the amazement of the youngest students, the hat began to sing. When the song ended, applause broke out and the hat bowed to the tables.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a scroll of parchment in her hands.
"When I call your name, put on the hat and take a seat on the chair so that your house can be determined," she said, calling out the first name.
After a few more first-years, the boy with white-blond hair was called. His name was Draco Malfoy, and the hat made its decision before it even touched his head. "SLYTHERIN!"
And then, after many more names. "Potter, Harry!"
When Harris stepped forward, almost everyone in the hall began to whisper.
"Did she say Potter?"
"The Harry Potter?"
That was the last thing he heard before the hat on his head muffled everything else. Then he heard a squeaky voice in his head, almost like when Liralis spoke to him.
/Hmm, difficult. Very difficult. Lots of courage, I see. Not a bad head either. There's talent, my goodness, yes—and a strong thirst to prove himself and be as capable as his twin, well, that's interesting... Now, where shall I send you?/
Since Liralis had told Harris a lot about the four houses, there was one house he didn't want to go to: Hufflepuff.
'Please not Hufflepuff,' Harris thought.
/Not Hufflepuff, then... I know where I'll send you... SLYTHERIN!/ The hat shouted the last word loudly so that everyone could hear it.
"Harry Potter and Slytherin?"
"A Potter as a snake?"
"He's not a lion?"
Harris wasn't interested in all the whispering; he didn't really notice it. Harris focused on his brother, who smiled at him proudly and contentedly.
So Harry walked cheerfully to the Slytherin table and sat down next to the Malfoy boy.
The Slytherins greeted him politely and with slight confusion, but hid it well behind their masks.
After the other first-years had been sorted, only two children remained standing in front of the students, a girl and Liralis. Professor McGonagall looked confused, and for good reason, because there was only one name left on her list.
After the girl had been sorted, Professor McGonagall asked the boy in front of her, "Who are you and how did you get into Hogwarts?"
"Minerva, what do you mean?" asked the headmaster.
"I have no more names on my list!" replied Professor McGonagall.
Now all attention turned to the boy standing next to the chair with the hat.
Liralis looked Professor McGonagall in the eye, but made no move to answer her.
Harris gathered all his courage, stood up, and joined his brother. "This is Liralis Evan Potter, my older twin, ma'am."