StarWaves
patreon
That's not Wizard Magic! Ch 10
🕑 Added 2025-08-22 22:31:10 +0000 UTCHello everyone! Here is the latest chapter of That’s not Wizard Magic!
Chapter 10 (~9400 words)
– Harry –
The train slowed down with a gentle jerk, and I rose from my seat, stretching my stiff legs and adjusting my new Hogwarts robes. The material felt strange but comfortable, hanging loosely over my shoulders. It was finally happening. I was here at Hogwarts.
Hermione stood up beside me, smoothing her robes and glancing out the window. Her hand reached out and softly grabbed mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Come on, Harry. You’ll love this,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
We stepped off the Hogwarts Express onto the crowded platform. My eyes immediately widened as I looked up, completely astonished. The castle was right there, stretching toward the darkening sky, magnificent and even bigger than the sprawling Sitri mansion back in the underworld.
“Wow,” I breathed out. It looked alive, magical, and strangely welcoming.
Hermione tugged gently on my hand again, pulling me from my daze. “Pretty impressive, right?”
I nodded slowly. “Way more than I imagined.”
She leaned closer, her body pressing lightly against mine, and looked up at me with a warm, affectionate smile. Her soft hair brushed my cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here, Harry. It just wouldn’t feel right without you.”
I squeezed her hand in return, smiling down into those warm, familiar eyes. “I’m glad I’m here too, Hermione. I don’t know how I got so lucky meeting you in that bookstore. You're beautiful.”
She blushed and looked away, biting her bottom lip as she fought a shy grin. “Don’t say things like that in front of everyone,” she whispered, though her eyes gleamed happily.
Nearby, Ginny cleared her throat loudly and rolled her eyes at us. Luna stood beside her, smiling dreamily. Ginny smirked at me and Hermione and said, “If you two lovebirds don’t mind, Luna and I will go ahead and pick a carriage.”
Luna nodded eagerly, her silvery eyes drifting somewhere over our heads. “I want to find one with the prettiest thestrals tonight,” she murmured softly.
Thestrals?
She and Luna turned away and disappeared into the crowd heading toward a line of black carriages.
A sudden booming voice nearby grabbed my attention. I saw an enormous man standing head and shoulders above the crowd. He had to be at least twelve feet tall, covered in a shaggy brown coat and bushy hair.
“Alright, first-years, this way! Come on now, line up!” he shouted cheerfully, waving his giant hands in the air.
All the 16 year old first years lined up to follow the man.
“Who’s the big guy?”
Hermione smiled fondly at the huge man. “That's Hagrid. He’s the groundskeeper here, but he started teaching Care of Magical Creatures last year too. He’s a good man, Harry. You’ll like him.”
Despite his intimidating size, he seemed gentle, friendly even to all the teenagers following him.
Hermione gently tugged on my hand again, pulling me toward the waiting carriages. The closer we got, the more I noticed the strange creatures harnessed to them—black, skeletal horses with leathery wings.
They were oddly beautiful, graceful in a haunting sort of way.
“They’re… amazing,” I said quietly, reaching out toward one. It tilted its head, regarding me with empty, curious eyes.
“You can see them, then?” Hermione said softly, her voice filled with gentle understanding. “I expected that to be the case after what you told me happened at the world cup.”
Hermione explained thestrals could only be seen by people who had seen death. She could not see them yet herself. She hadn’t actually seen anyone die, even though the paper said there had been casualties with all the fire during the world cup attack.
… Hermione and I hopped into the carriage, squeezing into the soft seats together. I felt Hermione's warmth against my side, her hand still holding mine tightly. Across from us, Ginny sat beside Luna, already settled in, Luna gazing around dreamily as usual.
Luna's soft, airy voice floated across to us. “Are you two going to make out now?”
Hermione choked, her eyes wide, while Ginny sputtered loudly, a flush of surprise rising on her cheeks. “Luna! Why would you ask that?” Ginny gasped.
Luna turned her big silvery eyes innocently toward Ginny, her expression serene as always. “Well, isn’t that what boys and girls usually do when they sit together in carriages…? My daddy always said so…”
I chuckled softly, not entirely sure if Luna was joking or serious. Her dreamy expression was unreadable, but a mischievous sparkle danced subtly in her gaze.
Yeah, she was definitely teasing them.
“You’re trolling us, Luna,” I said with a grin, leaning back comfortably against the plush carriage seat.
She tilted her head slightly, a playful smile forming on her lips. “Oh, am I?”
Ginny sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes with mock exasperation. “Honestly, Luna, why are you like this?”
Luna ignored Ginny’s amused irritation, leaning forward slightly toward me. Her eyes were bright with innocent curiosity. “You know, Harry, if Hermione doesn't feel up to kissing right now, I'd be quite happy to kiss you instead. After all, you were very warm when you hugged me earlier on the train. It felt nice.”
Hermione immediately stiffened next to me, her grip on my hand tightening just a bit possessively. She glared pointedly at the blonde witch. “Really, Luna?”
I bit my lip, trying and failing to hide my growing amusement. Ginny watched the exchange with her arms crossed, a look of both annoyance and fascination on her face.
I glanced at Hermione, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes met mine, softening a little when she saw my teasing expression. With a huff, she rolled her eyes and leaned toward me, pressing a gentle kiss against my cheek. Her breath was warm on my ear as she whispered quietly, “Oh, fine. Go ahead then.”
“You know,” I said, turning my attention back to Luna, giving her a playful smirk, “you really should be careful when teasing a guy like that, Luna.”
She blinked slowly, lips parted slightly, curiosity coloring her expression. Before she could reply, I leaned forward, crossing the small distance between us. Her eyes widened in surprise just as my lips softly captured hers.
Her lips were soft, delicate, warm, and tasted faintly sweet. I cupped her pale cheek gently with my hand, stroking the smooth skin as the kiss lingered for just a few seconds longer than intended. Luna squeaked softly in surprise against my mouth, the small sound causing me to smile against her lips. Her dreamy composure vanished briefly as she stared at me, eyes glazed, clearly surprised and a little overwhelmed.
Ginny, meanwhile, stared at me with open envy, sputtering jealously from her spot beside Luna. Feeling bold, I turned toward her next, raising an eyebrow with a playful challenge. “Well, we can't leave you out now, can we, Ginny?”
Her eyes widened in shock, cheeks flushed crimson as I leaned forward again, gently taking her chin in my hand. Ginny was momentarily stunned, but as my lips brushed hers softly, I felt her relax, pressing herself eagerly closer. Her lips parted willingly under mine, her enthusiasm obvious as she sighed softly into the kiss.
My hand slipped down to her neck, my fingers grazing her heated skin. Feeling mischievous, I gave her lower lip a playful bite before pulling back. Ginny's breath hitched sharply, her eyes darkening with desire, cheeks flushed as she stared at me in shocked delight.
I leaned back into my seat beside Hermione, who was watching everything with a mixture of amused annoyance and mild exasperation. “Happy now?” she murmured, quirking an eyebrow at me.
I chuckled lightly, sliding an arm around her waist. “Very.”
“That's enough kissing until after the feast,” Hermione declared firmly, though a playful smile danced at the corner of her mouth.
Ginny huffed quietly, licking her lips as if tasting the kiss again, looking both delighted and thoroughly embarrassed at how much she'd enjoyed it. Luna sat quietly beside her, still looking dazed and lost in the sensation, her fingers lightly brushing over her lips, eyes half-lidded and dreamy.
The carriage bumped gently over the uneven road, jostling us slightly closer together. I let my hand slowly rub Hermione’s back, feeling her relax under my touch. Her body was warm and comforting beside me, and as our eyes met, she leaned closer, resting her head gently on my shoulder.
“Merlin, Harry,” she murmured softly. “You’re a naughty devil aren't you...” Hermione had two sides to her. Her normal bookish self that lusted after all knowledge. And then there was her bold self, that whenever she let loose always seemed to surprise me.
…Second to seventh-year students steadily made their way toward the Great Hall, chatting noisily as they headed in for the feast. I was about to follow Hermione when I suddenly felt someone grab my sleeve, gently pulling me aside. Surprised, I paused and turned around.
Hermione stopped as well, turning to stare curiously at whoever was holding onto my arm.
It was Jasmine McKinnon—one of the girls I rescued a few days ago in Diagon Alley. She looked nervous, with her slightly messy brown hair tumbling adorably around her shoulders and her round glasses framing a pair of large, expressive eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked up at me shyly, biting at her bottom lip as she gently squeezed my sleeve again.
“Hey, Jasmine,” I said, smiling at her warmly. “Good to see you again. Did you need something?”
Jasmine glanced briefly at Hermione, her cheeks darkening slightly as if suddenly aware that we weren't alone. “You're not supposed to go into the hall yet,” she said softly, her voice slightly nervous. “I mean—you’re not a first year, obviously, but Professor McGonagall wants you to be sorted with them and the other transfer students. I’m a prefect now, so she gave me instructions ahead of time.”
Other transfer students? That took me by surprise. Dumbledore had made it seem incredibly rare when we'd spoken earlier.
I nodded, gently placing my hand reassuringly on Hermione's lower back. “You go ahead,” I told her softly. “I'll find you in Gryffindor after I’m sorted, okay?”
She smiled at me warmly, her gaze briefly flickering toward Jasmine before giving me an affectionate squeeze of my hand. “Alright, Harry. Don’t keep us waiting too long,” she teased gently, turning to hurry after Ginny and Luna.
The noise of the students slowly faded away as Jasmine and I stood together, suddenly alone in the empty hallway. There was a comfortable silence as we waited for the first-years to arrive from their boat ride. Jasmine still hadn't let go of my sleeve, her fingers gently gripping the fabric.
After a few seconds, she seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly released my arm, blushing deeper. "Sorry," she mumbled, clearly embarrassed. Her eyes darted to the floor shyly. "Bad Jasmine," she whispered to herself, "Stop thinking those thoughts!"
I raised an eyebrow, feeling both amused and curious. “What thoughts would those be?” I asked softly, leaning a little closer.
She flushed even more brightly, her eyes widening. "N-nothing," she stammered. "Just silly things. Ignore me."
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "You mentioned you're a prefect. Isn't that usually a fifth-year thing?"
She lifted her chin proudly, her embarrassment momentarily forgotten as she smiled mischievously at me. "Usually, yes. But Professor McGonagall said I'm 'exceptionally mature and responsible,'" she mimicked dramatically, clearly amused. "I got it a year early. Can you believe it? Malfoy will absolutely livid. Can't wait to rub it in the little weasel's face. I'm going to dock SO MANY points from him this year!"
I chuckled. Despite her awkwardness, Jasmine was definitely cute, and there was something uniquely charming about her enthusiasm.
Her expression suddenly shifted, becoming serious and slightly worried again. She shuffled nervously, twisting her fingers together as though debating something deeply personal.
“What’s wrong?” I asked gently, placing a reassuring hand lightly on her shoulder.
She jumped slightly at the contact but didn't pull away. Taking a shaky breath, she finally met my eyes, a conflicted look on her face. “Harry, I have something important to tell you,” she began quietly, biting her lip. “Something very personal, actually.”
“Okay… you can tell me.”
She looked up at me again, determination blazing in her eyes now, though the nervousness never fully faded. “I’m your sister, Harry,” she said clearly and firmly.
For a moment, my mind simply blanked. “...Huh?” I said dumbly, staring at her in confusion.
She nodded eagerly, stepping a bit closer. "My father was James Potter," she said hurriedly, clearly eager to explain herself fully, "and my mother is Marlene McKinnon. She was your mother Lily’s best friend. That makes us half-siblings. My real name is Jasmine Potter-McKinnon."
Ah, now it clicked. This must have been the girl Dumbledore had hinted about to me earlier. Except clearly, Jasmine still mistakenly believed James Potter was my biological father…
She stared at me expectantly, anxiety beginning to creep back into her expression as I took a moment to process it. Her large, expressive eyes were filled with so much hope and nervous anticipation that I felt a pang of sympathy for her confusion.
“Jasmine,” I started gently, touching her shoulder again softly to reassure her, “Thank you for trusting me with this, truly. But—um, James Potter wasn't my father…”
Jasmine stared at me, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with shock and confusion. Her expression was almost comical in how utterly stunned she looked. "Huh?" was all she managed to say, blinking rapidly as though trying to reset her thoughts.
I nodded slowly, offering a gentle smile. She looked so baffled that I almost felt bad for dropping such a bombshell on her. Gently, I placed a comforting hand back on her shoulder, trying to reassure her as best I could. "Sorry, Jasmine. I know it's probably not what you expected to hear," I said softly. "The truth is, Lily Evans—well, Lily Potter—was furious after discovering James's affair. In her anger, she went out looking for some form of revenge, I suppose. That's when she ended up having a one-night stand with my other mother named Serafall. And well... Serafall knocked Lily up."
Which was pretty amazing considering how shitty devil fertility was. But I guess I was just so awesome that nothing was going to stop me from being born.
Jasmine blinked several more times, still utterly flabbergasted, her cheeks now tinged faintly pink as my words sunk in. "Huh…?" she repeated weakly, clearly overwhelmed by the information I'd just shared.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head at her bewildered reaction. "Wow, I'm really sorry if I ruined your dreams of having a super awesome big brother."
Her expression immediately shifted into a pout, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. "Excuse me," she huffed. "I happen to be the older one here, I'll have you know."
Technically, given the timeline, she was right.
Her pout dissolved into an even deeper blush. Jasmine quickly glanced away from me, embarrassment clearly flooding her delicate features. "Oh Merlin, this is so embarrassing," she muttered to herself, covering her face briefly with her hands. "I can't believe I just blurted all that out to you! I should have done more research first, or maybe I should have asked my mom what really happened back then! I wonder if she already knew all this? But then why did she never tell me? Harry, please forget everything I just told you, alright!?" She rambled at me adorably.
It definitely wasn't Jasmine's fault, if anything it was Lily's considering she never told anyone. I'd like to consider that James Potter knew, and maybe they chose to forgive each other over both of their infidelities. But given the fact that they were both long gone and dead no one would ever really know.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm the one who should probably apologize here. I mean, everyone calls me Harry Potter. It almost feels like I'm stealing something that should rightfully be yours," I told Jasmine.
She quickly shook her head, turning to face me again, her large eyes filled with surprising warmth and sincerity. "No, Harry. Really. I never even knew James Potter anyway, and honestly, my mum is amazing! I love her, and I prefer just being known as Jasmine McKinnon." Her lips curved into a mischievous grin. "Though, I suppose it's not all bad news for me. If you're not actually related to James Potter, then technically the entire Potter fortune might come straight to me, right!?"
“At least there's that,” I said while giving her a smile. “But you don't have to worry about me, money is something my family is not lacking.”
My expression must have given me away instantly, as Jasmine's eyes widened dramatically, lips forming a perfect little 'O' of surprise and curiosity. "Wait... seriously? How rich are we talking here, Harry?"
Grinning cheekily, I lightly booped her nose with a fingertip, making her scrunch it up cutely. "Sorry, Jasmine. That's a family secret."
…Our conversation drew to a close when the large wooden doors at the castle entrance swung open abruptly, and the massive form of Hagrid filled the doorway. He held both doors wide, allowing a wave of eager, wide-eyed sixteen-year-olds to flow into the hallway. They flooded around us.
Jasmine glanced around quickly, noticing the students filing into a disorderly line beside us. She gave me an apologetic smile, her cheeks still slightly flushed from our earlier conversation. “I guess our talk will have to wait until later.”
I nodded, offering her a gentle smile. “You’re in Gryffindor, right? Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of chances to talk. I'll be sitting at your table soon enough.”
Her lips curled into a smirk, and she tilted her head at me, those round glasses sliding slightly down her nose. “How do you know that?” she asked, teasing me. “You haven’t even been sorted yet.”
I grinned at her, leaning just a little closer. “Because Gryffindor is full of the cutest girls,” I said confidently. “Of course that’s where I’m going to end up.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes dramatically behind her round glasses, though I didn't miss the subtle blush on her cheeks as she stepped back, turning towards the Great Hall entrance with a huff. "You're impossible, Harry…whatever your real last name is," she muttered playfully as she disappeared into the noisy crowd streaming forward.
I watched her go, amused, when suddenly a few of the first-years noticed me standing to the side. Their eyes widened with awe as whispers spread quickly.
"Is that really him?"
"It's actually Harry Potter!"
"No way! He really came to Hogwarts!"
Unable to resist, I smiled and gave a small, casual wave.
"Harry! Can I have your autograph?" a bold blonde girl asked eagerly, practically bouncing on her feet. Her friends giggled and encouraged her, watching me shyly.
"Or maybe just a quick photo?" another boy added hopefully.
I shook my head apologetically. "Sorry, not right now. But I'll make sure to do it next time, okay?"
Disappointment flashed briefly across their faces before it turned back into shy giggles.
As the first-year students began lining up, I glanced casually over the crowd once more. My eyes caught on two particular figures among them—both curvy and undeniably feminine, even beneath the cloaks that concealed their features. Their hoods were drawn low, hiding their faces, but something about them sparked a vague yet distinctly familiar feeling in my chest.
My instincts stirred as I studied them more closely. Who were they? Why did they feel so familiar?
I tried to take a step forward for a better look, when suddenly the doors to the Great Hall swung open wide. I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the mysterious figures as an imposing witch with stern features stood at the doorway.
She adjusted her glasses, her voice loud and firm, echoing clearly through the crowded hallway. "Attention, everyone! It's time for the sorting ceremony. Form a neat line, please, and follow me."
The gathered students quickly complied, hurriedly forming a somewhat organized line. I joined the end of it, still glancing occasionally towards the two mysterious, voluptuous girls. Yet, every time I caught sight of them, a flash of excitement and confusion rippled through me.
However, before I could give them further thought, I was swept forward along with the others, moving into the massive and breathtaking expanse of the Great Hall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she announced calmly, her voice echoing through the hall. "Shortly, the Sorting Hat will determine your houses. When your name is called, please step forward to be sorted."
Professor McGonagall began calling out names, but I wasn't really paying attention. My thoughts drifted elsewhere as I stood there, feeling hundreds of eyes fixed on me from all around the Great Hall. To be fair, it didn't seem like many people were actually paying attention to the sorting ceremony itself either.
Everyone at the house tables seemed far more interested in staring at me. A lot of the students were openly pointing, whispering excitedly among themselves, clearly eager to get their first real glimpse of the famous "Harry Potter."
I let my gaze wander casually around the hall, taking in the curious stares from the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. They all seemed friendly enough, intrigued rather than hostile.
But then I looked at the Slytherin table and almost laughed at the dramatically different reception. Around half of the students at that table were openly glaring at me, hostility clear on their faces.
I raised an eyebrow slightly and smirked back at them, letting them know I didn't care in the slightest.
From the front of the room, I saw Dumbledore sitting at the staff table. He gave me a knowing nod, and I returned it casually. Beside him sat Lockhart, looking pale and jumpy, and he was also wearing different robes after he pissed his last ones.
Further along sat Professor Lupin, who caught my eye and gave me a supportive smile and nod. Lupin had been genuinely cool earlier—coming to help us—even if we hadn't really needed his help against that demon.
The damn thing survived getting flung off the train, but next time—I was going to kill it.
Then my eyes landed on another professor, a pale, dark-haired man with a long nose and cold black eyes that bored into mine with undisguised contempt. I'd never even seen this guy before, yet he looked at me like I'd personally offended him.
The fuck was this about?
I narrowed my eyes slightly at him, silently challenging his glare with my own indifferent smirk.
My quiet battle of wills with the sour-faced professor was interrupted when Professor McGonagall finally reached my name on the list. But her voice stumbled slightly as she read it aloud.
"Sitri… Harry?" she said uncertainly, squinting at the parchment like she assumed there must have been a mistake.
Instantly, confused whispers spread around the hall, the students' murmurs growing louder.
Ignoring their shocked voices, I strode casually forward, moving up to where McGonagall stood beside the stool. She glanced at me apologetically, clearly flustered by the apparent mistake.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Potter," she started, flustered. "There seems to be a clerical error. I'll correct your surname—"
I raised my hand gently, stopping her mid-sentence. "Actually, Professor, that's right," I said loudly, calmly enough for my voice to carry clearly through the Great Hall. "My name is Harry Sitri. My mom cheated on James Potter."
McGonagall stared at me in absolute horror, eyes wide. "WHAT!?" she shrieked. “LILY DID WHAT!?”
Her voice wasn’t quiet in the least.
Instantly, the hall erupted into chaos! Voices rose, echoing shock, confusion, and scandal. I could hear gasps and cries of disbelief as the news spread instantly through the entire student body.
Kind of the reaction I was expecting to be honest…
Paying them no attention, I simply sat down casually on the sorting stool, picking up the Sorting Hat and placing it lightly on my head. The old hat chuckled softly in my mind, clearly amused by my antics.
"Hmm... are you absolutely sure you're not James Potter's son?" it asked in a teasing voice. "He was just as much trouble as you are turning out to be, boy."
"Very sure," I replied mentally, smirking. "My mom is a million times cooler than James Potter ever could've been. Now, hurry up and put me in Gryffindor already."
The hat grumbled slightly, hesitating for a moment. "Perhaps Gryffindor might not be the best idea after all," it muttered skeptically. "With your... unique talents, I fear all the young witches—and probably some older ones too—might wind up pregnant before the end of the school year!"
I snorted softly in amusement, mentally rolling my eyes. "That's exactly what contraceptive potions are for, isn't it?"
The Sorting Hat sighed dramatically, clearly giving up. "I suppose you’re right. And besides, no other house would suit you anyway. Very well... better be—GRYFFINDOR!" It shouted the last word aloud, loud enough to echo clearly over the still-stunned hall.
Most of the students were still too shocked by my announcement to react immediately, so only a small cluster at first cheered my sorting. Fred and George Weasley stood up, hollering with delight. Hermione was grinning brightly, clapping enthusiastically along with Ginny beside her. Over at the Ravenclaw table, Luna smiled dreamily, clapping politely and giving me a soft, amused wink.
The rest of the hall remained in various states of stunned disbelief.
Removing the hat from my head, I stood up casually, nodding politely to a still-gaping Professor McGonagall before strolling over confidently to the Gryffindor table. Hermione immediately scooted over, making space for me to sit right next to her.
Fred and George sat across the table, roaring with laughter. Fred slammed his fist onto the wooden surface, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Harry, mate, that prank was bloody legendary!"
George snickered beside him, leaning forward and shaking his head. "Honestly, I didn't know you had it in you. Brilliant stuff!"
I laughed softly, shaking my head and glancing around the table. "Guys, believe it or not, it wasn't even a prank," I said with a chuckle, casually grabbing a glass of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip. Ugh, that was nasty! I choked a bit before speaking again. "...All I did was tell the truth. It was about time everyone knew."
Should have listened to Hermione’s warnings about the pumpkin juice…
The laughter slowly faded into silence, confusion replacing amusement on many of my new housemates' faces. Voices quickly rose up again, flooding me with questions.
"Wait, so you're actually not Harry Potter?" asked a curvy brunette—Lavender if I remembered right.
"Are you not really the Boy Who Lived?" said Parvarti next to her.
I grimaced slightly at the title and sighed. "Ugh, I really hate that stupid nickname," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Yes, I'm still technically the Boy Who Lived—unfortunately—and yeah, I did kick Voldemort's sorry ass! Turning his murdering ass to dust that probably ended up getting vacuumed off the floor…"
Several gasps erupted around me, eyes widening in horror as the name Voldemort left my lips. A girl across from me visibly flinched.
"Merlin's beard, Harry! Don't say his name out loud!" someone whispered urgently.
I shrugged carelessly. "What? He's a pile of ash—he won't magically appear if I say his stupid name."
I got a couple comments about how brave I was—or as expected of the Boy-Who-Lived! Not everyone was happy to have me in their house though.
Ron Weasley was glaring daggers at me, his freckled face twisted into a scowl. On his shoulder perched the disgusting, fat rat. Ron was actually feeding the nasty creature, letting it nibble crumbs from his fingers.
"Eww," Hermione whispered quietly, having followed my gaze. "I still can't believe he's keeping that thing as a pet. He’s had it with him since first year and all the girls hate it!"
I grimaced, eyes locked onto Ron’s angry expression. What the hell was his problem anyway? He hated me the first day he met me when I visited the Weasley home. His brother’s and his sister were way cooler!
Before I could dwell on it further, McGonagall cleared her throat loudly at the front of the room, and I turned my attention back toward the sorting ceremony. The noise level dropped significantly as she called the next name.
"Sitri… Sona?"
My eyebrows shot upward, my mouth parting slightly in shock. No way.
I immediately focused on the two cloaked figures standing with the other new students, heart hammering with anticipation. One of the girls stepped forward, her cloak falling away from her head and to reveal my beautiful Aunt Sona. The other girl dropped her cloak and I saw it was her Queen Tsubaki!
“Did she say Sitri?”
“Isn’t that Potter’s last name?”
“Are they secretly related?”
There were a bunch more whispers starting up of course.
“Damn, Hermione, you were right. She absolutely is gorgeous,” Ginny muttered, maybe sounding a bit jealous.
I could still hear the loud whispers and gossiping around me, but my eyes were fixed firmly on Sona. She approached the stool. As she sat down, her cloak slid slightly off her shoulders, revealing the elegant curve of her neck and highlighting her flawless porcelain skin. The entire hall seemed to collectively hold its breath as she carefully picked up the Sorting Hat and placed it lightly upon her silky hair.
Sona closed her pink eyes, her soft lips pressing into a thin line of concentration as she presumably spoke with the hat. I watched her intently, studying every subtle shift of her expression. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly after a moment, clearly irritated with whatever the old hat was saying inside her mind.
Maybe she wanted to go into a certain house but it wasn't letting her?
After another moment, she let out a faint sigh.
"Better be—RAVENCLAW!" The Sorting Hat finally shouted, startling many students who had been staring transfixed at her beauty.
Sona opened her eyes slowly, an unreadable expression on her perfect face as she stood up gracefully and removed the hat, placing it back down gently. Her gaze flicked briefly toward me, a small but affectionate smirk tugging at the corner of her lips before she confidently strode over toward the Ravenclaw table. I caught the subtle sway of her hips, immediately feeling disappointed that she wouldn't be sharing the Gryffindor common room with me.
But it made sense. Ravenclaw described Sona almost perfectly.
"Tsubaki Shinra," Professor McGonagall called next.
She barely had a chance to sit down before the hat called out firmly, "RAVENCLAW!"
Tsubaki smiled gently, nodding politely toward Professor McGonagall before quickly joining Sona at the Ravenclaw table. The two sat close together, immediately drawing curious, admiring stares from their new housemates. It made sense. Tsubaki was Sona's Queen, she wouldn’t be sorted anywhere else.
I was still just shocked that they were here in the first place.
So… Sona and Tsubaki were the transfer students Jasmine had hinted about earlier?
I spotted Jasmine sitting farther down the Gryffindor table. She was squeezed between Lavender and Parvati, listening to something Lavender was saying. As if sensing my gaze, Jasmine turned her head, looking directly at me.
I smiled mischievously and gave her a playful wink. “Told you I would end up in Gryffindor,” I mouthed to her.
With the Sorting finally complete, Dumbledore rose from his seat at the staff table, instantly silencing the lingering chatter around the Great Hall.
"Welcome, students, both new and returning," he announced warmly, his voice echoing clearly through the massive room. "I believe enough excitement has occurred already this evening, so I shall not keep you from your feast. Enjoy!"
Dumbledore clapped his hands together sharply once, the sound reverberating through the hall. Instantly, the trays of appetizer biscuits and crackers vanished from the table before us, replaced by an extravagant feast of steaming dishes.
Roast turkey with crispy golden-brown skin. Platters of succulent roast duck and tender rib roast sent savory aromas wafting through the air, making my stomach growl impatiently. Bowls filled with buttery mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables glazed with honey, and fresh, crusty loaves of bread completed the feast.
Hermione's eyes lit up beside me, and she reached eagerly for the serving spoon, piling a generous helping of vegetables onto her plate. She smiled happily at me, clearly pleased by the delicious options laid out before us.
"This is one of the best parts about Hogwarts," she said cheerfully, her voice filled with genuine delight. "The food here is always amazing!"
…I had to admit, Hermione was absolutely right. Even though this was just my first meal at Hogwarts, the food was incredible. I piled my plate high with slices of roast turkey, thick slabs of tender duck, mashed potatoes dripping with gravy, and buttered bread rolls that practically melted in my mouth.
As I ate, the cheerful noise of my new friends talking around me filled the air. Fred and George told me more about their pranks as they leaned in close, their voices dipping low whenever Professor McGonagall glanced suspiciously in their direction. Ginny sat next to Hermione, quietly laughing at the twins' antics and giving me playful and flirtatious glances, her cheeks still faintly pink from earlier.
Hermione's shoulder brushed comfortably against mine as she listened to Fred and George, her face lighting up when something particularly funny was said. Occasionally, she turned to look at me, our eyes meeting briefly, a warm smile passing between us before she returned to the conversation.
Everything felt perfect—until I glanced further down the table and saw Ron Weasley again. My appetite took an immediate nosedive.
He was actually letting that disgusting, bloated rat of his sit directly on his dinner plate, casually feeding it bits of roast beef right from his own hand. Its tail was slathered in mashed potatoes. I watched with barely contained disgust as the fat, ugly creature greedily nibbled at the meat, crumbs scattering everywhere, its beady eyes staring around as though daring anyone to complain to Ron.
Next to me, Hermione followed my gaze and let out a gagging noise, quickly placing a hand over her mouth. Ginny mirrored her, groaning quietly in disgust.
Fred grimaced, shaking his head in embarrassment at his younger brother's antics. "Honestly," he muttered, "Ron has the most unhealthy relationship with that blasted rat."
George snorted in agreement, glaring down the table. "You don't know the half of it, Harry. Fred and I tried getting rid of that furry menace at least twice. Set it loose in the woods, miles away from the house! We weren't trying to kill it or anything, just setting it free!"
Fred nodded grimly. "Thought we'd finally be free of the little blighter, but somehow it always finds its way back to Ron."
"That's because he won't stop overfeeding it," Ginny chimed in, sighing heavily. "If he didn't keep giving it treats all the time, it probably would have wandered off years ago."
I snorted and looked away from Ron and his pet. I really hoped I wouldn't end up sharing a dormitory with him…
Instead, I started scanning the Gryffindor table, looking around to see if there were other potential friends I could make—particularly among the guys. Fred and George were cool, but they had each other already as best bros.
Unfortunately, every other guy I noticed seemed already locked into their tight-knit friend groups. Sure, they'd smile politely when I looked their way and clearly enjoyed chatting briefly with the famous Boy-Who-Lived, but none made any moves to invite me further into their conversations.
Not that I minded too much—I was more than happy sitting next to a beautiful girl like Hermione. And then there was Ginny shooting me looks. Further down the table I noticed that whatever Jasmine, Lavender and Parvarti’s conversation had been—it had now shifted and the three of them were shooting me glances and giggling to each other. Well, most of the giggling was Lavender and Parvart, while Jasmine just looked mortified.
Maybe she told them about her confessing to me about being my sister?
…The feast went on for a full half-hour, but it felt like it stretched for ages, the tables overflowing with delicious food. And just when I thought we were finished, dessert magically appeared. Mountains of creamy chocolate mousse, thick slices of rich pumpkin pie, towers of sticky treacle tarts, and ice cream in every flavor imaginable. Beside me, Hermione eagerly served herself a large scoop of strawberry ice cream topped with chocolate syrup, humming happily as she licked a small drip from her spoon. Her soft tongue traced the edge, and for a moment, my attention lingered on her lips.
I quickly shook off the distraction and grabbed a bowl of ice cream myself.
Just as everyone was finishing dessert and chatting happily, Dumbledore stood again. His smile didn't fully reach his eyes this time. As his gaze moved across the hall, silence gradually fell. “It is wonderful to see so many new faces here at Hogwarts this year,” Dumbledore began gently. “And equally delightful to welcome back all our returning students.” Then his expression became serious, voice lowering slightly. “However, I must warn you—this year, Hogwarts faces certain challenges.”
Whispers broke out around us, worried murmurs rippling through the crowd.
“First, as many of you are aware, Sirius Black remains at large, having evaded capture for quite some time now,” Dumbledore explained gravely. “The Minister of Magic has therefore deemed it necessary to place a contingent of Dementors around Hogwarts grounds, for the protection of certain students.” His eyes drifted toward me briefly, holding my gaze meaningfully.
I clenched my jaw in disbelief. The fuck!? Dementors? Dementors were literal fucking demons!. Did these humans honestly have no idea what they were dealing with? And why the hell would Sirius Black, a wizard imprisoned for eighteen years, come looking for me? I mean yeah—he supposedly worked for the Dark Wanker and all that, maybe?—but you’d think Sirius Black would be on an island filled with topless women in Fiji by now after escaping a prison run by demons. I sure as fuck would have!
Muttering broke out again, unease flickering across many students’ faces, and Dumbledore raised a hand for silence.
“Secondly,” he continued solemnly, “I'm afraid we must announce that Quidditch will be canceled for this entire academic year.”
Instantly, chaos erupted. Cries of disbelief and outrage filled the hall, students moaning and loudly protesting. Fred and George beside me both jumped to their feet, dramatically clutching their hearts.
“No! Anything but Quidditch!” Fred cried out dramatically.
“Headmaster, how could you?” George shouted, grabbing his brother's shoulder for support.
Ginny leaned in closer to whisper in my ear. “They’re both beaters for the Gryffindor Quidditch team,” she explained softly. “It’s pretty much their whole personality outside of pulling pranks.”
I gave the devastated twins a sympathetic nod after she explained that. Honestly, though, Quidditch wasn't exactly my thing. Gabrielle gushed about the sport, but I sided more with Fleur, we both preferred football.
Dumbledore held up both hands this time, his deep voice booming over the protests. “Please, everyone, settle down! There is a very good reason for the Quidditch cancellation this year.” Eventually, the hall quieted again, though several disgruntled faces remained. Dumbledore then smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I am delighted to announce that this year, Hogwarts will proudly host—the Triwizard Tournament!” The entire hall erupted again, this time in cheers and excited chatter. The earlier disappointment forgotten, students eagerly leaned forward, hanging on his every word. Even Fred and George looked intrigued now. “The Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “is a prestigious and historically significant event held periodically between the magical schools. It will allow our bravest and brightest students to compete in extraordinary magical trials, each more challenging and dangerous than the last.” He paused dramatically as students murmured eagerly amongst themselves. “However, I must stress this is not something to enter lightly,” he warned sternly. “Many champions have died competing throughout history. Should you participate, you will face your challenges alone. No teacher or friend may assist you.”
I wondered if Dumbledore realized how incredibly hyped his warnings were making everyone. Students were already whispering excitedly, expressions filled with determination and thrill at the thought of competing.
My own pulse quickened as I considered it. An intense tournament full of magical dangers sounded pretty fun and a great way to test myself. Of course, I wanted in.
I glanced across the Great Hall toward the Ravenclaw table, and my eyes locked instantly with Sona's pretty pink gaze behind her glasses. She gave me a small, confident smirk, clearly knowing exactly what I was thinking. I knew one thing about my beautiful aunt. Sona was fiercely competitive, there was no doubt she'd be entering as well.
I returned her smirk with a playful grin, silently letting her know I wouldn't go easy on her. She raised a delicate eyebrow challengingly.
Hermione leaned closer, her soft shoulder pressing warmly against mine. “You're going to enter, aren't you?” she whispered softly.
“Of course,” I answered confidently, smiling down at her. “It sounds like exactly my kind of fun.”
“I suppose we shouldn't be surprised,” Ginny teased gently. “You're clearly the type who likes trouble.”
Fred and George leaned in. “Ha! Sorry, Mr Sitri, but if there’s two open spots for our school, then I’m afraid those just got filled by my brother and I! Better luck next time,” one of them told me playfully.
I cocked an eyebrow at them both. “Im sure we’ll see about that…”
“Indeed we shall!” “Quite right my handsome brother!”
…Dumbledore dismissed us shortly afterward, and the students began to rise from their tables, excited chatter filling the Great Hall. I glanced toward the Ravenclaw table, hoping to catch Sona before she left, but she and Tsubaki were already moving with their new housemates out the door.
Where was the rest of Sona’s peerage, anyway? Could she really leave them behind for nearly an entire year? That didn't sound right. Well, I'd have plenty of time to ask her tomorrow.
I sighed and followed the other Gryffindors as they filed out of the hall and headed up a winding set of stairs. We moved through torch-lit corridors and grand staircases until finally, we reached a large portrait of a rather plump woman wearing a pink dress. She smiled down at us, gently waving a fan in her hand.
"Password?" she asked cheerily.
"Flibbertigibbet," one of the Gryffindor prefects called out.
What!? How the fuck was I supposed to remember THAT!?
The painting swung open, revealing an entrance that led into a cozy, warm common room. The atmosphere inside was inviting, the fire crackling merrily in a large stone fireplace. Plush chairs, sofas, and tables filled the space, giving it a comfy and home-like feel.
I was just stepping into the room, ready to relax after a very eventful day before bed, when suddenly two familiar, delighted voices echoed through the common room.
"Young Master! There you are!"
"We've been waiting forever for you!"
My eyes widened as I instantly recognized the sultry, playful tones.
Standing right in the middle of the common room were my personal maids, Lyra and Lyna, grinning brightly and waving energetically at me. They wore their usual maid uniforms—the black-and-white dresses incredibly skimpy, hugging their curves tightly, barely containing their ample breasts. The skirts were scandalously short, teasingly revealing long, smooth thighs covered only by sheer thigh-high stockings and high-heeled shoes.
"What the...?" a shocked voice gasped from somewhere behind me.
I could practically feel every eye in the room snap toward Lyra and Lyna, stunned silence quickly giving way to low whispers and murmurs.
Fred and George stood with their mouths hanging open, looking utterly dumbstruck. Fred elbowed George, his eyes never leaving the twins as he muttered in a dazed voice, "Those twins are absolutely gorgeous! I think I'm in love."
“Me too, brother…”
"Oh, really?" snapped a sharp, annoyed voice from behind the twins. Fred and George jumped slightly, spinning around quickly. Angelina Johnson, their beautiful, dark-skinned girlfriend, stood glaring with her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Care to repeat that, boys?"
They both flushed bright red, sputtering desperately and denying everything they just said.
Lyra and Lyna giggled softly, completely ignoring the chaos they had caused as they closed the distance between us. In an instant, the twins were pressed against my sides, their warm, plush bodies molding perfectly against me. Their arms slipped lovingly around mine, pushing their breasts against my chest and arms.
"Young Master," Lyna purred into my ear softly, her hot breath tickling my skin, "we're here to serve and take care of you—completely."
Lyra giggled seductively from my other side, adding with mischievous enthusiasm, "And we've already prepared your own private bedroom upstairs. You won't have to share with anyone!"
I groaned softly, shaking my head but feeling myself smile despite the mild embarrassment. These two were always managing to stir up trouble. "How did you two even get in here?" I asked curiously, though I had a sneaking suspicion I already knew.
"Oh, that's easy!" Lyra said proudly, leaning even closer against me, her soft curves making it hard to concentrate. "Your mother gave Hogwarts a rather generous donation!"
I rolled my eyes. “Figures. Nepotism at its finest.” Yet, deep down, I couldn’t complain. After a month spent living with them in the underworld—having two beautiful, devoted maids ready to fulfill my every whim was…nice.
Yeah, that was one word for it. Ok, these two were growing on me.
Lyna nodded eagerly, her lips brushing against my cheek as she whispered playfully, "Dumbledore was more than happy to accept, as long as we didn't cause too much trouble."
“But some trouble is perfectly fine, right Lyra?”
“Indeed it is my lovely sister!”
Fred and George were still staring enviously, though they were carefully avoiding Angelina’s sharp gaze now. "Bloody hell," Fred muttered, awe evident in his voice.
From somewhere behind me, someone muttered jealously, “Damn, Harry Potter—I mean, Harry Sitri—is so fucking cool!” The envy in his voice was unmistakable.
Meanwhile, Hermione and Ginny stood to the side, glaring daggers at Lyra and Lyna and practically hissing with annoyance. Hermione especially looked like she was barely restraining herself from hexing them right then and there.
I sighed softly again, trying not to laugh at everyone's reactions. I was getting used to this. "Alright, alright," I finally said gently to the twins, giving their shapely hips an affectionate squeeze. "You two are causing enough of a scene. Can we at least try to keep the drama to a minimum?"
Lyra and Lyna pouted dramatically, pressing even closer. "But Young Master," Lyra whimpered teasingly, "we’re just so happy to see you!"
"We couldn’t bear to be separated from you for months…" Lyna purred mischievously
Hermione and Ginny were still glaring at Lyra and Lyna, their eyes narrowed sharply, clearly disapproving of the sudden, dramatic entrance of my two maids. Lyra and Lyna either didn't notice or didn't care about the intense stares, completely focused on me instead. Their soft hands wrapped around my arms as they guided me toward one of the plush, comfortable couches by the roaring fireplace.
Lyra giggled softly, settling gracefully next to me on my right, her slender fingers delicately brushing along my arm and down to my thigh, lingering teasingly. “Young Master, you've been away from us for far too long,” she cooed.
It had barely been half a day...
“Yes,” Lyna agreed, her voice just as enticing as she slid onto my left side, pressing herself intimately close. “We've missed pampering you. You seem tense—maybe we should help you relax?”
Before I could respond, I caught sight of Hermione and Ginny stepping deliberately into my line of sight. They stood with arms crossed, faces stern, clearly demanding attention and an introduction. Hermione's usually gentle brown eyes were sharp with annoyance, and Ginny's expression bordered on a fierce glare.
I chuckled nervously, realizing I should quickly defuse this tension before it escalated. “Uh, right—girls, this is Lyra and Lyna, my... personal maids from home. Lyra, Lyna, these are Hermione and Ginny.”
“Are you friends with our young master? Or are you something more...?” Lyra asked teasingly, her soft lips curving into a playful smirk. Her hand slid up my thigh again, causing me to tense slightly from the tantalizing touch.
Ginny’s cheeks turned a deep crimson, her eyes widening in shock, clearly caught off guard by the maid's boldness. "Yes, I'm his friend... for now."
Hermione, however, appeared more assertive, stepping forward and placing her hands firmly on her hips. “I'm his girlfriend,” she said confidently, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her obvious irritation.
Lyra and Lyna exchanged amused glances, their matching smiles growing wider. “How interesting,” Lyna murmured softly, her lips brushing enticingly against my ear as she whispered, “I think these girls might be a bit jealous, Young Master. Shall we show them exactly why they should be of us?”
Taking a deep breath, I firmly pushed Lyra and Lyna away, fighting past the softness of their bodies. They immediately pouted at me, their full lips forming adorable little frowns as they leaned forward to plead with their eyes.
“Alright, you two have had your fun,” I said sternly, trying to hide my amusement behind a serious tone. "Do you have your own room? Because I think it might be time for my very naughty, troublemaking maids to go to bed."
Hermione and Ginny nodded eagerly, exchanging vindictive smirks, clearly pleased I was finally stepping in.
Lyra let out a dramatic sigh, crossing her arms under her ample chest, unintentionally accentuating her curves even more. “Well, technically, Young Master, we do have our own room,” she admitted reluctantly, a disappointed look crossing her beautiful face.
Lyna moved closer, gently resting a hand on my chest and looking up at me with hopeful, pleading eyes. Her voice was soft, sultry, and filled with longing. “But we were really, really hoping we could share yours, Young Master. We promise we'd behave...."
Before I could respond to their blatant suggestion, Jasmine McKinnon finally approached after finishing up her prefect duties with the first years. She stopped next to us, hands on her hips, glasses sliding slightly down her nose as she eyed the twins with disbelief and frustration. “I'm not exactly sure what's going on here,” she said with a sigh, clearly fighting to keep her voice calm, “but at Hogwarts, men and women do not share rooms.”
Lyra and Lyna both turned to glare at her, their matching expressions full of defiance and disappointment. But Jasmine met their stares head-on, not backing down even a little. “And if you two don't comply, I'll have no choice but to report you both to Professor McGonagall—and have you thrown out. Honestly, you both should've been sent away already!” Her gaze turned to me, lips pursed in irritation, though her cheeks were tinged faintly pink from her frustration. “Really, Harry? You mentioned your mom was rich, but how rich does someone have to be to blatantly violate the rules and even manage to bribe a man as upstanding as Dumbledore?”
Lyra giggled softly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she stepped forward and wrapped an arm around my waist possessively. “Oh, that's an easy one,” she said sweetly, her voice clear and ringing through the suddenly silent room. “Our mistress donated one million Galleons to Hogwarts.”
Immediately, gasps erupted from the students who had gathered around us, their mouths dropping open in shock at hearing such an incredible sum. Whispers quickly filled the air, the news spreading like wildfire through the common room.
“One million Galleons?” Ginny echoed incredulously, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Jasmine simply stared, completely dumbstruck. Her gaze flickered between me and the twins, struggling to process this outrageous revelation. "One million Galleons..." she repeated quietly to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's utterly ridiculous!"
I chuckled softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Welcome to my life," I murmured. "Now, if we can settle this matter, let's all head to bed and save the drama for tomorrow, alright? I'm sorry for the scene these two caused..."
– Draco –
Draco Malfoy lounged in the dimly lit Slytherin common room, legs sprawled out lazily over the luxurious green velvet couch. Crabbe and Goyle sat nearby, quietly discussing something mundane while occasionally glancing toward Draco for approval.
On his lap perched his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, who showered him with praise and soft murmurs of adoration as she ran her manicured nails delicately along his chest. "You're just so powerful, Draco," Pansy purred, leaning in to gently kiss his neck, her dark hair cascading over his shoulder. "None of these fools at Hogwarts compare to you. You're destined for greatness."
Draco gave her a lazy, half-hearted smirk, only mildly paying attention. Her touch was pleasant, but his mind was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters.
Foremost on his thoughts was Jasmine McKinnon, that insufferable Gryffindor who seemed to be at the center of so many of his recent frustrations. Draco’s jaw tightened at the memory of their last encounter. He could still feel the burning shame of that day vividly—the humiliation, the helplessness, and especially that damn Mudblood who dared use the Cruciatus Curse on him!
Who cares if Draco had cast the curse himself or not!
Draco’s father had exploded in fury when he'd learned about the incident, demanding the identity of the attacker, but without a face or name, they had nothing to go on.
Draco clenched his fists bitterly, vowing silently that McKinnon and her friends would pay dearly for their insolence. He would make sure of it.
But revenge wasn't his only triumph. Draco had successfully completed his father’s mission, slipping that mysterious black book into the belongings of some unsuspecting, ignorant student. A smirk tugged at his lips as he wondered eagerly what chaos would unfold from his actions.
Whatever the outcome, it was sure to be spectacularly entertaining.
Yet even as schemes and revenge played in his mind, something else stirred within Draco—a desire more immediate and tantalizing than mere plotting.
Draco Malfoy prided himself on acquiring things others could only dream about. He was named after a dragon, a proud, powerful symbol, and he carried that legacy with arrogant satisfaction. His gaze drifted momentarily up to Pansy, who smiled adoringly up at him. She was certainly attractive enough in a simplistic way, and Draco appreciated the way she eagerly spread her legs without question or hesitation.
Still, she paled in comparison to the real prizes that had recently caught his attention.
A wicked smile crossed Draco’s face as vivid images of the two captivating Ravenclaw transfer students filled his mind. Sona Sitri and Tsubaki Shinra—two extraordinary beauties. Draco had barely been able to take his eyes off them during the Sorting Ceremony, captivated by their stunning appearances. Their gorgeous black hair, graceful poise, and intoxicating confidence had immediately marked them as the most desirable women Draco had ever laid eyes upon.
Pansy leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear softly, breaking him from his fantasies. "Draco, you're distracted," she whispered sulkily, her tone slightly annoyed.
Draco smiled coldly, his attention slowly returning to her. "Just thinking, Pansy," he replied dismissively, reaching up to caress her cheek gently, though his gaze was distant. "Don't trouble yourself over it."
She pouted slightly, clearly sensing his disinterest, and pressed herself more firmly against him, eager to regain his attention. "Maybe I can distract you better," she murmured suggestively, tracing slow, teasing circles on his chest.
Draco chuckled softly, finally allowing himself to enjoy her eagerness. "Perhaps you can," he admitted coolly, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes. As she smiled brightly, pleased by his attention, Draco’s mind lingered briefly once more on Sona and Tsubaki. Tonight when he fucked Pansy, he'd be thinking of them...
XXX
Comments
Delta105
To be honest, not really a fan of how Harry explained his parentage to everyone. He should have mentioned that James cheat on Lily. As it is it currently shows Lily as in the wrong vs reality she was getting even (even if that really is not the best solution)
Christian E. Y.
DHarry to Draco: you have two troll-like goons at your back. I have two total babes. We’re not the same.
Aleksey A E
You know, when I was writing the tellrya about Sona being put in Hogwarts as a way to hide her from future problems in the supernatural world (hell, if I'm not mistaken, sometime after the school year starts there's the Khaos Brigade attack on the Rating Game and Issei's Juggernaut Drive. Then Loki's attack, then the trip to Kyoto and then the literal Khaos Brigade attack on the underworld. No matter what anyone says, it's not surprising that Seraphal decided to send Sona to a safer place. I wouldn't be surprised if no one tells Sona anything about what's going on... unless Voldemort somehow ends up working with Rizevim, who could actually be a problem, although the more dangerous one is Euclides, since it was Euclides who essentially had a greater interest in developing and creating various dertma. And if they're interested enough in vampires, then I'm afraid they'll be interested in dark wizards as well. But if Considering that by Christmas there will already be Volume 18, it is technically quite possible that the wizarding world will notice fragments of Trigesta walking around in the human world and Vali fighting Azi Dahaka over Europe before the third trial of the tournament even happens. In fact, it is really lucky that Voldemort will essentially be resurrected only after the Trigesta incident is resolved. Although considering that the wizarding world will probably be an outside observer with no understanding of what is happening, then for Harry and Sona, further contact with Serafall will be only during the bonding sessions arranged by Ajuka, since Serafall is one of the rulers who will probably be in the sealed dimension of Trigesta by the time the school year ends. Although I need to check the timeline.
Rycork
I just thought of an idea. Since Harry is made of Football, do you think he can introduce it at school? This allows him to introduce a sport he likes, which can serve as a substitute for Quiddich this year, needs little equipment to play it, promote the most popular sport among Muggles (to understand them better) and allow to create a unifying link between the schools (imagine Fleur acting as an intermediary with Harry to promote it). Wizards could even create their own variations to energize it and match their tastes afterwards.
