Outsiders x Harry Potter --- For the soul

Year 1

Ponyboy Curtis was just a regular, tuff, all-American boy with a heart of gold until he went to the very British school of Hogwarts.

Darry, his older brother, was real proud of him when he got his letter. Darry was a muggle (what a nerd), so he had no idea what Ponyboy was off to do. He worried that he was going to cause as much trouble as Soda, their other brother. He'd been held back to first year again, but managed to skip out on the sorting. This time.

"Don't worry, Dare Bear," Soda said as he and Ponyboy got on the train. Darry was just surprised to get through the wall. "Pony won't be any trouble. He managed not to get lost on the flight here. That's better than I did my first time."

"Hopefully, he'll keep up the tradition of not doing things you did the first time and actually graduate first year," Darry spit. He was pretty mad to be the only muggle in the family.

The last whistle for the train rang and Ponyboy and Sodapop said their goodbyes to Darry, who had to catch another 20 hour flight just to get back home. This would be easier if Mom and Dad were still here. That way, I wouldn't have to catch any flight, Darry thought as he passive-aggressively hugged the boys and stomped away. Well, one was passive and the other was pretty aggressive.

****

During the sorting, Ponyboy was just trying to remember the names of the houses. He looked over at Soda, who unexplainably sat at the Ravenclaw table. The hat must've been drunk, Ponyboy mused.

With his last name starting with C, Ponyboy was one of the first kids sorted, right after some kid named Johnny Cade, though the hat pronounced it more like "cake." As he stepped up to the stool and sat with the hat on his reddish-brown locks, he wondered with anticipation what house he would be in.

"GRYFFINDOR!!!" The hat screamed as he deafened the ears of everyone in the room. "I see opportunity in the house of Gryffindor, young lad," the hat cooed in Ponyboy's ears. "Perhaps in ways you might not expect..."

Ponyboy winced at the embarrassment of being looked at by hundreds of the crowd. And from getting cooed at by a bloody hat. He was talking like a Brit already. Their eyes burned his face, even though no one was looking at him anymore. It felt like sunburn was crunching his cheeks.

He walked from the stool to his respective table, eyeing Soda longingly. What if he never saw his brother again? Ever again. Ponyboy had a tendency to be overdramatic and it soon caught the attention of Headmaster Dumbledore.

Headmaster Dumbledore already paid more attention to the Gryffindors, but the new addition of "Ponyboy Michael Curtis," as Dumbledore always said, the name tingling on his tongue, peaked it even more.

By the first week, Headmaster Dumbledore had already memorized Ponyboy's schedule. He even added an extra class to train the young Mudblood to be as skilled as this Harry Potter boy, who was the same age and had already killed Voldemort. But forget him; this is about Ponyboy.

Bonding time, the Headmaster explained. You and me--- he crossed two fingers--- we're gonna be like this.

Ponyboy didn't understand why Dumbledore favored him so much, but was happy for the extra help. Each day, he went to the Headmaster's office for three hours after school. His friends, if they existed, would have worried after him had they not been busy with their own schooling. Only Soda, who never did a piece of homework in his life, actually wondered what he was up to.

"It's nothing," Ponyboy said. "He just wants to make me stronger." He paused suspensefully. As the authors have explained, he was very dramatic. "In more ways than one."

"Well, he didn't do that for me and I'm your brother," Soda said, pouting a little, like a sad puppy.

"It's because I'm your brother," Ponyboy explained. "He doesn't help you---" Ponyboy annunciated the word as though Dumbledore was doing something other than helping him--- "Because he thinks I need it more."

"What does he think you are, crippled?" Soda asked, not buying it.

"Not yet," Ponyboy answered and swaggered away, feeling that thinking the mere thought in front of Soda would give away more than Dumbledore told him to.

****

Time with Dumbledore seemed to move quicker than with anyone else for Ponyboy. He took in little things: The way Dumbles moved, the way he spoke, the way his eyes twinkled when happy, and the way he made Ponyboy feel.

It was like a track race. With the wind in his lungs, Ponyboy felt he could do anything. Dumbledore was like the wind, every breath perfect and beautiful and serene. Dumbledore, his Headmaster, was perfect, and yet he found someone so imperfect as Ponyboy so mesmerizing.

"You're perfect, Al," Ponyboy whispered with a teasing grin. Dumbledore hated the nickname "Al" coming from anyone but Ponyboy. Anyone but Ponyboy.

"You, too, Ponybaby," Dumbledore teased back, thinking of the most romantic nickname he could think of for his special friend.

Ponyboy laughed and Dumbledore thought the sound was so innocent and lovely. It was a child's laugh, a laugh of innocence and wonder. A laugh he desperately needed in his life.

"I need you," Dumbledore whispered, putting his gray face beside the innocent auburn-haired first year. "Always and forever. The only time I've ever felt this way was in 1885. Man, that bartender was cute. I asked him for his address, see, and then he said-"

Dumbledore cut himself off, feeling the magic between them slipping away. "I'm sorry," he apologized, softly. "I'm getting too excited. I should-" He stood to leave the dorm where he was visiting his friend just before bed, but Ponyboy grabbed his arm with determination.

"No," he said, a fire in his voice that Dumbledore had never heard before. "Stay. Please."

And Dumbledore stayed.

Author's note:

So.....how goes it? We know it's a little weird, but we came up with the idea in the pool, so just don't go swimming. It doesn't have to be weird, you twisted minded weirdos. And nothing is direct, so you shall never know. 😏