Harry Potter Short Stories

Not his brothers Keeper

Rather cunning and resourceful, quite unlike your brother. Hmm. And a thirst to distinguish yourself, too. I daresay-

Not Slytherin, please, Harry Potter thought, shutting his eyes.

Why not?

It will just give them all an excuse to label me "dark" and "evil", and I'd really like to not bother with that, thanks.

Well, you're bold enough; how about Gr-

Not a chance! Harry gave a sharp sigh. Seven years with that idiot? One of us won't make it out alive! Not Hufflepuff, either. They'd try to "reconcile" us, if I read them right, and that would be almost as bad.

Your intellect seems sufficient for Ravenclaw, the Hat admitted. But do you really want to make a decision that will affect you for seven years based on your brother?

Are you joking? It's the only way my life for the next seven years won't be based on my brother!

He really ought to help Al, Harry thought uncomfortably, raising his head from his homework and looking about. At this time of night, the Ravenclaw Common Room was nearly empty, with the remaining students being so obsessed with their own studies that they wouldn't notice if he sneaked out. Or brought a herd of elephants stampeding through.

And he had heard his idiot brother plotting with his cornies to stop Professor Quirrel. Never mind that, if the professor were truly malicious, a gaggle of firsties wouldn't stand a chance. And, if Dumbledore had botched his concealment of some crucial and secret item, that was entirely on his head. No, Gryffindors would be Gryffindors, and only he, with his extraordinary intelligence and talent, might be able to -

Harry shook his head vigorously and bent over his essay again. He'd reported the plans to both his Head of House and Gryffindor's, who had both dismissed it as childish grandstanding and waved off any legitimate concerns about Quirrel to boot. If they couldn't bother, why should he? He was a firstie! If he was going to start protecting children who, so far, had treated him as nothing but trash, he wanted a raise, and exemptions from three-foot essays due in three days!

(Dumbledore, patching up his half-dead namesake after a nasty run-in with Lord Voldemort's host, would puzzle over how his compulsion had seemed not to stick. Oh well. He would be more careful next time.)

House of the learned and intelligent, his ar- um, posterior!

His House, after initially proclaiming the Heir of Slytherin had to be a hoax and a fraud because everyone knew Slytherin's monster was just a myth, had joined the general hysteria of proclaiming him the Heir just because he had hissed a bit. First of all, one might wonder how he would have ended up as a Pureblood supremacist, growing up in a household with a Muggleborn mother. Second, he was the younger twin, so, if any Potter was the Heir of Slytherin, it would have been his brother - since the laws of Wizarding inheritance did not in fact check for individual magical talents like Parseltongue. Third, they'd been watching him closely for the better part of the year, so one'd think they'd have realized he wasn't behind the attacks that had occurred since then!

But no, they'd just used that as "proof" he was so sneaky and cunning that he'd somehow evaded his escort, or swapped himself out with a Polyjuiced double on a trip to the restroom, or Memory Charmed the current shift of student guards to believe they'd watched him the whole time - or any number of things!

It was easy to regard yourself as preternaturally intelligent and insightful when you simply ignored all evidence that contradicted your worldview!

The year hadn't been all bad. His persecution had brought him into contact with a firstie named Luna Lovegood, and they had bonded over their bullying by the House of the pigheaded and ignorant. It was rather nice, having somebody who interacted with him for himself and not for being the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived.