Chapter Three: Hogwarts—A Place of Mystery
The Slytherin trio woke late on September 1st, not quite ready to leave for Hogwarts. They threw their last belongings into their trunks and lugged them down the stairs and into their father's car. Then they ate a hurried breakfast and rushed out the door. The boys were then driven to King's Cross Station (along with Percy, the prat) and practically ran to the barrier.
Harish sighed happily at the sight of the red engine. They were finally going back. After staying there for nine months, it seemed like another home to Harish and he couldn't wait to be back. The twins felt exactly the same way. It was definitely more fun to pull pranks at Hogwarts than it was at home where they always got in trouble because they were the only ones that ever pulled pranks. The two of them swore to do better this year. Last year's pranks were so meager, not to mention there were only a couple of them.
After saying goodbye two their parents, Fred and George boarded the train, but Harish lagged behind, seeing if he could spot his own father's tall figure. And, to his surprise, there was his father, leaning casually against a pillar. Harish trotted over to say his goodbye.
Voldemort cleared his throat before saying. "Go show all of those people who you are. Don't let them talk bad about you and Harish," –he paused awkwardly looking deep into the boy's eyes—"goodbye, son."
Harish felt his eyes prickle with tears. This was the first time in his life that the Dark Lord had recognized that he was his son. Without thinking, he lunged forward and gripped his father tightly in a hug. "Goodbye, Father," he mumbled into the folds of Voldemort's long dark robes before pulling away and grinning cheekily. "But what is all this gloom for? See you in June!" he chirped before dashing off to join his two best friends.
Once he sat down in the compartment the twins picked out, he asked, "Ready to be back?"
"Definitely," they said in unison.
When the train started, the three of them stuck their heads out of the window and waved at their families. Harish watched his father disappear as the train rounded the corner.
They closed the window and sat back against theirs seats.
"So, Fred and I have a few ideas for this upcoming school year," George said, leaning back.
"Oh?" Harish asked seriously.
"Well, first off—"
"We think that we—"
"Should up our game doing pranks." Harish nodded. They hadn't done very many pranks the year before.
"Also George came up with the wonderful idea—"
"That we should do a book recording all of the pranks we pull."
Harish nodded again.
"And we have one more thing to propose," George said.
Fred then said, "We think that," he cleared his throat, "we should start a pranking business."
Harish raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Well, like Zonko's!"
"We've been thinking that we—"
"Could come up with joke products—"
"And once they're good enough, we could sell them at Hogwarts!"
"How would you intend on doing that?" Harish asked.
Both twins looked down and said in unison, "I dunno…"
Then Fred looked up and exclaimed, "But that's why we want you to help us!"
Harish looked from one freckled, eager face to the other freckled, eager face and sighed. These twins were going to be the death of him one day.
"Yes!" they both exclaimed, Fred pumping a fist in the air and George jumping up and down.
"I didn't even agree!" Harish protested.
"That, my dear sir—"
"For you was an agreement!"
"No it wasn't!" but the twins were too busy cackling to take notice.
WEASLEY'S-WIZARD-WHEEZES—HERE WE COME!
Oi! I still haven't agreed to this!
Neville lugged his suitcase along behind him, walking up the grassy pathway to the Burrow. He steeled himself. This would be the first time he had interacted with someone his age (other than cousins), he'd better not screw this up. He observed the oddity that was the Burrow until a red head emerged from the front door.
"Hi, my name's Ron. Who are you?"
"Neville," Neville replied. Ron's eyebrows shot up. He had been told about Neville, the boy who was destined to defeat Voldemort.
"Do you like Quidditch?" he asked. Neville nodded shyly. "Come on then!" and he dragged Neville up to show him his bedroom.
QUIDDITCH—THE-WAY-TO-GAIN-ANYONE'S-FRIENDSHIP
Harish and the twins sat impatiently through the Sorting Ceremony. The House had sat down in the old order. Harish in middle between Fred and George, the seconds years around them, then the third years and so on. They had left room on each end of the table for the new first years. Harish figured that this was going to go this way until he graduated. Eventually, the Sorting ended and Dumbledore gave his start of term speech. Finally after that food appeared and the trio dug in.
"Do you think they'll let me onto the team this year?" Harish asked after swallowing some chicken.
"Yeah," Fred said with his mouth stuffed full of food. "You're really good."
"Not to mention the whole house is deathly scared of you."
"Not the whole house," Harish interjected.
"Yeah the—"
"First years. We know. The rest of the house'll probably—"
"Pass on stories about you." The twins both looked at other kids in their year who were listening in on their conversation. The fellow Slytherins then nodded as if they had been told directly to do that.
Harish shook his head. His life could be really ridiculous sometimes. He guessed it was just something that came from being raised by a dark lord, a snake, and an insane lunatic who was obsessed with the Cruciatus Cruse. And then of course the twins added a whole lot of silliness to it all. Then, he smiled to himself as the twins started flirting with a girl in fourth year; no matter how hectic his life was, it really was great. On this note, he then swooped in and rescued his friends from the girl's death jinxes and swiftly changed the topic.
"So, what type of joke products do you want to make?" Harish asked them.
"Maybe some joke wands or—"
"Trick sweets."
Harish nodded. "How are you going to do that?"
"First we would need to find potions or ingredients—"
"That would have the effects we want,"
"Make a sweet, and try it out."
"We're going to be trying these on ourselves?" Harish asked, sounding concerned.
"Don't worry about it," the twins assured him, patting him on both shoulders.
Harish rolled his eyes and finished off his plate. Soon after that, deserts appeared and with it came a conversation about Ron—
"The prat put itch powder in our shirts the other day," Fred had complained.
—And then it moved to his new friend, Neville—
"I swear Ron's corrupting that poor boy," George commented.
Of course then the twins let slip about Neville being in the prophesy and Harish turned queried, "Wait, what was the prophesy about?"
"Oh it was about a boy that was born at the end of August that had the power to defeat your dad."
"There were two boys Ron's age that it pertained to. Harry Potter—"
"—who's dead—"
"—and Neville Longbottom."
"It also talked about Neville having—"
"Strange powers and blah, blah, blah."
Harish drew his eyebrows together. That wasn't good. There was a boy destined to kill his father, and he was friends with Harish's best friends' brother. That wasn't good at all. Harish wondered if the Dark Lord knew about this prophesy. He probably did if the whole Order knew about it, but since they were talking about Dumbledore, he might not know. The troubled boy hardly even noticed when they were dismissed and herded down to the dormitories. There, he wrote a letter to his father about the prophesy and how he heard of it, and set it aside to mail in the morning. Then the exhausted twelve-year-old went into their dorm, which now said 'Second Years' instead of 'First Years', and fell asleep almost instantly.