Summary:
Previously. . . Gellert creates his new identity as Felix Nachtnebel and takes the risk of visiting Hadrian in king's cross. The past of Damian's birth is revealed upon the death of his mother, Freida Nachtnebel.
Notes:
Recap of Chapter 1 - 10
Harry Potter dies at the age of 130 feeling like his entire life after the war has become meaningless. As a show of mercy and fascination, Death offers their hand to Harry and gives him the choice of reincarnation. Harry decides he wants to be greedy, then waking as James Potter's younger brother Malcolm Potter.
What he thought was a one time thing became a never ending series of Harry living and dying; waking up as a different person every single life. We catch a glimpse of Harry's first few lives as Malcolm, Arcturus, Clarisse, and Orpheus.
Harry wakes up in his thirteenth life as Harry Potter once more. He wakes up in the Gryffindor dorms, then sees Ron for the first time in decades. Reuniting with Hermione and Ron makes Harry happy before Dumbledore ruins the mood and causes him to be resentful.
Harry runs away from the Dursleys a week into summer break and immediately goes to Gringotts. The name of his seventh life is revealed; Damianos, and we are introduced to the long friendship between Harry's seventh life and the current head goblin.
He goes to Austria, breaking Gellert Grindelwald out of his prison. It is then revealed Harry's seventh life was Grindelwald's son.
Harry brings Gellert to Potter Manor to recover then goes to the burrow after a few weeks. The quidditch world cup happens, where Harry meets Nikolai Markov. The events of the death eater raid aren't too different from canon aside from the fact that Barty did not use Harry's wand.
Damian's sister is mentioned. Hermione and Harry have a moment together about nightmares and Hermione's home life, (canon-divergent in which Hermione's background isn't the same as canon.) The golden trio end up shading a bed where Hermione is sandwiched between Harry and Ron while they cuddle.
Gellert's past where Damian is born is revealed, then he leaves Potter Manor to see Harry off to Hogwarts. He goes to Gringotts to create a fake identity then is told Harry has prepared his vaults for him. Ragnar then tells Gellert of what to expect from Harry.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
CHAPTER 11:
Tracing his finger on the window, Harry closed his eyes as he looked through his own memories. Occlumency often helped organize his thoughts, but with so many memories of different lives, things often got complicated. Occlumency, from what Hesper and Sirius Black II taught him, is the act of magically closing your mind, protecting it from outside forces. However, it could also help in one's mentality and control of their emotions and thoughts.
As Malcolm, his parents had taught him and James Occlumency, however, as Arcturus he had realized how messy his memories were. In his third life, he had taken advantage of the fact he was the future lord Black, scouring the libraries of Grimmauld Place and Black Castle whenever he could. He had studied the dark arts from then on, remembering things Regulus had told him as Malcolm. The rumors did not exaggerate when speaking of how grand and ancient the Black libraries were.
He had studied many things as Arcturus, but he had also learned the other ways to use legilimency and occlumency. The mind arts could help control one's emotions, sort memories so as to not easily forget them. Harry had started tempering with the mind magics when he, as Arcturus, was eleven years old. The reason for this was when he realized that Dumbledore would be his teacher rather than headmaster. Of course, Arcturus had been rather surprised when seeing Dumbledore had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher before teaching Transfiguration. However, this only served his paranoia.
By the time he was fifteen, he had sorted out his memories in imaginary chambers within his mind that he simply had to visit. He continued doing so in future lives, learning more and more magic until his occlumency was fortified to the point even Dumbledore couldn't penetrate it. However, it did take time for him to recover such protections with his magic and soul adjusting to his body.
He glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of a snow white owl flying alongside the train. A smile graced his lips as he watched Hedwig brave the sky—it had been decades since he last saw his owl. Amarantha was precious, yes, but Hedwig had been with him since the childhood of his original life.
He glanced towards where Ron had fallen asleep, and where Hermione had snuggled herself into a blanket. Sometimes this happened, but considering how the three of them had been reluctant to separate lately, sleeping quietly seemed perfect. Crookshanks was out of his carrier, napping right beside him.
On the other hand, he was reading Nikolai's letter that had arrived a few days ago.
"Dear Hadrian,
Mother was absolutely worried when those Dead eaters swarmed the campsite. I heard that your ministry was brutally scolded by the ICW because of that. (No offense by the way.)
We were also concerned for your safety. I read about your little situation with the leader of those lunatics. Are you okay? They haven't hurt you right? Mother refuses to give me any information regarding the investigation and only said it was being handled. I guess being an attorney means she's involved with all of this insanity.
Anyways, Viktor also asked if you were okay. I heard from Asen and Bisera that they saw you and your friends running through the forest. Said something about you blasting a tree when it got in your way. That sounds awesome!
By the way, what are your hobbies? What foods do you like? What's your favorite subject? I really want to get to know you. (If you're okay with it of course!)
From, Nikolai Markov"
The letter seemed cute. It had made him laugh while reading it and replying to the boy. Hedwig had seemed to make friends with Nikolai's long-eared owl that was named Masha .
He sighed, looking out the window until the glass started to frost. He flinched, having flashbacks of the previous year where Dementors had intruded on the train. Harry had gotten used to Dementors over the years but his friends haven't. He gripped his wand tightly, glancing out the compartment doors then turning back to the window.
The frost didn't melt, but he watched in fascination as something was drawn in the ice. Narrowing his eyes, he saw letters, words. He paused as he realized it was a riddle. Harry never liked riddles, they were complicated, mysterious, and frustrating. He didn't like riddles.
"What is always moving, never tired, and dread not being admired?" Harry whispered as he read the riddle. Repeating it under his breath, he took a few seconds to figure out the answer. Hesitantly, he traced his answer in the frost.
The moon.
Correct!
Harry smiled at the reply but was a little suspicious. Whoever was writing the riddle wrote another question.
A golden treasure that never stays;
The coin whose face gives wealth to all.
Strands, nuggets, and dust of gold
are all bought with its shining grace...
And all are more precious than any gleaming metal. What am I?
Harry hummed softly as he pressed his finger on the window, feeling the cold frost. He wrote his answer without hesitation, already realizing what the riddle meant.
The sun.
Correct! Now, the more of me you have,
the longer your life.
The more of me you have,
the less you have left. What am I?
Time.
Correct.
They went back and forth for a few more minutes, Harry being amused with the little riddles and questions he was given and answering properly. Although he did purposefully write a wrong answer to see how the stranger would react. He received a silly drawing of a frown, while also watching as the stranger wrote the correct answer.
At one point, Harry grew tired of answering questions. It would be a few more hours before they arrived at Hogwarts and whoever decided to play with him seemed nice. He quickly cut off the stranger before they could ask another question, writing his own riddle into the mix.
The stranger seemed surprised, considering they took a few moments before answering his own riddle. No matter how much he was displeased with riddles, they were sometimes fun to solve and make. He had asked,
I speak without a mouth and hear without ears.
I have no body, but I come alive with wind.
What am I?
It took a few more seconds, until the stranger finally decided on an answer.
An echo.
Harry smiled, Correct, he obnoxiously wrote to imitate the stranger.
He started to ask more questions, writing complex riddles, and then they ended up taking turns. Harry took the time to indulge himself and whoever the hell was playing this guessing game with him. He didn't know where they were, suspecting they were in a compartment close by.
His magic stretched through the hallway, searching for the stranger, while also answering the question presented to him.
What disappears as soon as you say its name?
Harry answered, Silence.
He sighed, glancing out the door to see Draco Malfoy peeking out of the corner. The moment his eyes met with silver hues, he could feel himself light up. He silently left his compartment and immediately cornered Draco in an empty compartment, staring at the rather frightened Malfoy scion.
"Why so tense Malfoy?" Harry mockingly asked in the same tone Draco had used on him. The blonde boy scowled at him, gripping his wand tightly as if cautious of any malice Harry had.
Harry merelt raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning lazily at Draco who visibly gulped. So much for Slytherin decorum, he thought. Harry snickered at the obvious tension on Draco's person.
"You wouldn't attack someone defenseless," he paused, shifting his eyes from Draco's wand then back to the boy's face, "would you?" Harry simply knew that with the faux innocence in his tone grated Draco's mind.
Seeing the complicated expression on Draco made Harry grin even more. He swiftly took out his wand, startling Draco before he casted a silencing charm around them. Draco turned to him in bewilderment in silence, disturbed with how Harry kept eye contact with him. It was a method Harry had learnt—never take your eyes off an opponent… even if that opponent was a fourteen-year-old boy.
Harry hummed quietly, shoving his wand back into his robe pockets and clapping his hands together. The sound made Draco flinch, " What do you want? I suppose creeping around my compartment would be caused by something truly significant. " Harry spoke in fluent french.
Draco was a Malfoy and a Black, he knew French from birth. Harry didn't doubt that, watching as shock and recognition registered in the other boy. Harry could only thank his occlumency and mastery over the mind arts for his continuously being fluent in numerous languages. French was one of them, obviously.
Draco's mouth opened and closed for a few more seconds, before the boy shook his head and glared at Harry. " That's none of your business. " Draco snapped, making Harry deadpan at him.
" Of course— " Harry aggressively waves around them, " —this creepiness is concerning and since you've been lingering in our compartment… " He drawled.
" C… creepiness?! " Draco turned a bright red, surprising Harry at how the color could easily taint Draco's pale face.
"Yes, creepy," Harry bluntly said.
"I'm not…"
Harry rolled his eyes, "Nevertheless. What do you want? It's clear that you want something, better not to keep me waiting." He snapped back, earning him a quiet glower.
"What makes you think I want something from you ?" Draco argued back, looking quite smug.
Harry wanted to groan, he sincerely did. Children were atrocious, that included himself of course. But he had nearly forgotten that this variant of Draco Malfoy was a bit of a spoiled brat. A bully even, but redeemable if Harry could assume.
"Well, if it's not about me then I'll be going. Let's forget about this meeting entirely." Harry shrugged, preparing to walk back out.
"Wait, I—" Draco cut himself off, gritting his teeth as he glared at Harry. "What's with you? You weren't fluent in any language other than English three months ago. For Merlin's sake, you butchered the pronunciation of some incantations. Then there's you deciding to be friends with the Bulgarian minister and Nadia Markova's son."
Harry hummed softly, he was actually curious what Nikolai was currently doing. However, he was rather impressed with Draco's boldness in tackling such mysteries directly. UnSlytherin-like, but he could only assume it was due to his age.
"Hm… what makes you think I never learned? We're not really that close, right Malfoy?" Harry asked with a grin.
"You never needed to tell me. I've said some stuff to you in french and I don't suppose you were just pretending to be clueless."
" What if I was? " He spoke in french again to further provoke the boy.
" Pretty convincing then ."
Harry grinned. He couldn't exactly remember what Draco said, but the boy had gone off on him in french when they were in first year. Draco had been embarrassed by his outburst while Harry was just confused about what the hell Draco said. Regardless, it was quite cute that the Malfoy heir remembered such a detail.
Draco was a Slytherin, he wasn't dumb, nor was he ignorant. He wasn't oblivious—he was a Slytherin. Draco was observant, taught to be such since he had been a child but this recklessness he displayed was somewhat new to Harry. He was familiar with Draco's arrogance but the other boy's actions weren't of arrogance, rather… It was a frustrating kind of confusion that drove the Malfoy heir to confront him. Albeit stupidly, but then again, when people were frustrated they sometimes did stupid things.
" Tell me, when we first met, what kind of person did you expect? " Harry asked, seeing Draco flinch. The expectations of what the boy-who-lived was supposed to be was a heavy burden for Harry, his precious self that is. He had every right to assume that Draco thought of something different when he was looking for Harry Potter in their first year.
The Malfoy heir was silent, but it was enough confirmation for Harry. Draco didn't expect a skinny, pale, shy, and tired looking boy to be sitting in the train that day. He expected something better—someone who was tall, confident, someone who oozed with power. Harry was none of those when he had been younger.
"Shame." Harry whispered under his breath.
"Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."
"And where would that be?"
"Wherever the hell trouble and danger is."
Draco let out an exasperated sigh as Harry strutted out the compartment. He didn't want to see the smug look Harry would obviously have, quietly returning to his compartment.
"Bloody asshole."
Harry simply opened the compartment doors and snorted at Draco's comment. Neither Hermione noticed Ron had woken up during the time head speaking to Draco, however, Hermione's blanket was slipping off her. He hummed softly, adjusting the blanket to cover the two and fixing Ron's position so he would be leaning his head on Hermione's shoulder.
A grin graced his lips as he happily plopped to the seat opposite to them and grabbed a book Hermione had taken out. Crookshanks had woken up due to his noise and was glaring tentatively at him. Harry gave the half-kneazle a crooked grin, watching as the ginger cat decided to rest itself on his lap.
A laugh left his lips as he gently carded his fingers through Crookshanks fur and started to read Hermione's book. He couldn't help the small frown on his face as he realized it was a history of Hogwarts… again.
"I should really provide her with books on pureblood and actual magic theory." He murmured, "Don't you think?"
Crookshanks merely meowed back and drifted off to sleep.
Hadrian sat opposite to Hermione and Ron, mindlessly waving his wand to conjure small wisps of fire and wind. He glanced over to the Slytherin table, humming quietly as he saw Draco Malfoy just in his view. A small smirk graced his lips as he made eye contact with the blonde haired boy, who—as Harry could see—clenched his fist on the table.
He waved mockingly at the Malfoy heir, who's eye twitched. Harry may not have the best vision —at the moment, he promised to fix his atrocious eyesight eventually— but he could practically feel Draco's irritation from the other end of the hall. There was an annoying sensation in his mind that made him want to cackle right in front of Draco, but he was mature… ish.
"Oh Harry! Will you please tell Ronald there is absolutely nothing wrong with you dropping Divination? Really now! It feels unfair that he's had you for most of the time while I'm alone." Hermione pouted, glaring at Ron.
Ron recoiled, thinking back to how he and Harry had basically left Hermione behind with all her subjects and classes. He turned to Harry for help, but the other boy shook his head.
"Ron, divination isn't good for me. Honestly, it caused more emotional stress because of Trelawney constantly mentioning my imminent death." Harry said in a sarcastic tone but his friends still flinched. "Plus, I have… I have an issue with prophecies. Seers in general, I have no issue, but Trelawney? Something about her pisses me off."
Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, grimacing at Harry's subtle impatience. Trelawney was one of Harry's least favorite teachers, quite surprising since he was known for his admiration for the teachers of Hogwarts —except for Snape and now Trelawney.
"Do you need my notes from last year?" Hermione quickly changed the subject, "Ancient Runes are quite hard."
"Thank you but I was able to buy some books on ancient runes in my tune in Diagon Alley. The theory itself is a bit different from the actual practice." Harry explained, twirling his wand between his fingers. He glanced at Hermione, who looked rather fascinated.
"Knowing the purpose of every rune you'll use is important, as well as the history and power behind it. Drawing the rune itself is a difficult practice since you have to mix your magic into the rune itself." Harry hummed, tracing his wand in the air. Silvery light emitted from his wand, drawing out a rune in the air.
"Runes are complex and confusing." Harry quietly murmured, dispelling the rune away. He turned back towards his friends, who were staring at him in awe. Of course they're impressed, he thought with a smirk.
"How did you…" Hermione trailed off, eyes wide as she watched the sparkling silver magic vanish from sight. Her gaze snapped back towards Harry who looked rather nonchalant—although he was internally smug about his skill.
"You're teaching me." Hermione said, as if it were the final decision.
Harry chuckled, nodding along. That had been his plan in the first place. Instigating a point of interest for Hermione so he could slip in certain comments about pureblood traditions that had been lost to Muggleborn culture. This was an important factor for Harry, reminding himself of what he went through in his fourth life.
Teaching Hermione about such things would make her less unsightly to the eyes of purebloods and she would also be educated in the world she was now part of. Harry didn't plan on keeping her ignorant. He wanted her to be minister again, earlier maybe, but perhaps his plans would change.
His plans for Ron were yet to be made but he promised himself that his supposed best friend would be part of his future schemes.
"Where's Ginny?" Harry quietly asked.
"Oh! She's there by the Ravenclaw table. Apparently one of her friends is a birdie." Ron gestured towards the students in blue and Harry could clearly see Ginny's flaming red hair among the crowds.
He faltered for a second as he realized who she was chatting with.
"Luna Lovegood." He whispered. She looked exactly the same since the last time he's seen her. He couldn't help his grimace, resisting the urge to stand up and grab the girl. Luna was someone who held crucial information after all.
"I'll have to befriend her sooner than the last time."
"Did you say something?"
"What? Oh! The girl beside Ginny looks really pretty."
Hermione gave him a weird look, turning towards the blonde girl Ginny was with. Indeed, she was quite pretty with her blonde curly hair but Hermione thought she seemed weird. Harry could clearly see her thoughts, a crooked smile on his face at the things Hermione thought of the girl.
She's so pretty…
Harry couldn't help but falter at that awed thought, turning to Hermione with a grin. "Pretty, ain't she? Heard from Charlie that she's your neighbor." He told Hermione before turning to Ron.
"Yeah! She's Luna Lovegood. Nice girl, but I kinda feel bad. Heard from Ginny that some Ravens call her Loony Lovegood."
"Why's that?" Hermione huffed, narrowing her eyes dangerously. Her views on bullying were almost on par with Harry's. She despised it, having gone through it herself when she was still in the muggle world and in her first year. Hermione was still subjected to it from time to time, but Harry had gone on to threaten anyone who meant harm to Hermione since he first woke up in his thirteenth life. Poor idiots had been dragged into an empty classroom just for Harry to spew out dangerous threats.
"Cause…well she's loony." Ron murmured, avoiding eye contact. He knew very well what bullying had done to Hermione and Harry, really he did, but he had to be honest.
"Ron! Don't say that." Hermione looked aggravated by Ron's words. "That's… that's mean! She might just be quirky and good for her to have the confidence of being herself." She huffed, refusing to look at Ron.
Ron turned to Harry for help, but the other boy only shrugged. He gestured to Ron, as if saying he would speak to him later. The doors had just opened, and in came the new first years.
It was obvious to Harry that compared to the three years before the current first years, they were more of them.
The depressing thought hadn't passed Harry. The current fifth, fourth, third and second years had the smallest number of students compared to the rest. All Harry could think of was it was because of the war, how so many of the people who could have been parents. How so many unborn witches and wizards could have been his classmates. Harry had feared this very predicament.
It was ironic how history repeated itself. After the second wizarding war, history repeated itself by so many people not wanting to bring a child into this wretched world cursed with war. The class of 2008, Teddy's class, had been as small as his. Plagued with war, there had been baby droughts in the wizarding world twice—thrice if you included Grindelwald's time as the dark lord. It had taken them a few more years to fix the issue with their population.
Magic had grown weak, the population becoming small. Of course, that was in wizarding Britain, but Great Britain had been an oasis of magic… the mere thought of magic growing weaker in the very place where Merlin and Morgana were born was shameful and devastating.
"How much are you willing to risk to keep magic alive?"
Harry shuddered as he heard the echo of Death's voice. He had made sure to speak to the entity of death only upon his death or when he was close to death. Harry had become addicted to Death over time and realized this when he was in his eighth life. He made sure to… get rid of such an addiction that made him somewhat suicidal.
He watched as students were sorted, counted how many students there were in the new batch of first years. Harry counted 145 students, 73 more students than his batch. His year had exactly 72 students from what he could remember. 23 out of 72 were Gryffindors.
"There… there are a lot of them this year, don't you think?" Hermione's voice cracked as she noticed how big the crowd of first years was. The visible difference in the population of the new first years made her cringe. Harry glanced towards the head table, narrowing his eyes at the pinched expressions some teachers had.
"Well considering the first wizarding war…" Harry murmured thoughtlessly. He didn't care for how Hermione and Ron flinched. War wasn't easy, but over the years, he has gotten less scared of it. He felt less emotion at the prospect of war.
"Cresswell, Leonard."
A boy with dirty blonde hair clumsily ran up the steps and sat on the stool. A bright grin on his face as he allowed the hat to assess him. It only took a few seconds before the hat yelled, " GRYFFINDOR! "
Harry didn't clap as the boy ran to their table. He didn't really think being a Gryffindor was all that great. Not anymore, at least. If Slytherin was where Voldemort nitpicked his death eaters, Gryffindor was where Dumbledore scouted his Order of the Phoenix soldiers. He had been one of those soldiers, his parents had been one of those soldiers.
He watched as more and more students were sorted. Some were strutting towards their houses with smug looks. Some looked on the verge of tears as they walked to the Hufflepuff table. Harry had even taken notice of a muggleborn— a muggleborn ! Quietly walking towards the Slytherin table.
It was the odd thing about the muggleborns of Slytherin. No one really knew they existed, at least, that's what Harry thought. He had watched, when he was Arcturus, as muggleborns spoke to other young witches and wizards. Eavesdrop about blood status and assess their situations. In the end, they pretended to be half-bloods to lessen the damage.
As Arcturus, he had been friends with one. Cameron Payne had been a boy in his year. Allegedly a half-blood who had been uneducated by his witch of a mother who wanted him to embrace his muggle heritage. It had been a lie. Arcturus had discovered this and kept it a secret. Cameron Payne was a muggleborn who had heard of the word mudblood coming out of an older Slytherins mouth. He was lucky enough to befriend a half-blood who spoke of the hierarchy.
At that time, teachers were more explanatory to muggleborns on blood status and the Hogwarts houses. This has been a great advantage to them when adapting to their surroundings. Sometimes the pretend Half-bloods became friends with purebloods and did everything to mimic their mannerism. It was such a Slytherin thing to do. Arcturus had been kind enough to lend Cameron a book on etiquette and pureblood history when they were in their third year.
The same events had happened, Harry had simply filed through his memories and compared them to the current events. Dumbledore stood up, announcing that the inter-house quidditch cup would not take place. His voice was grating as always, but Harry focused more on the door.
As expected, a few seconds after the gasps and yells of outrage, the great hall's doors flew open. Lightning crackled as thunder boomed from the windows of the great hall, a man limping towards the headmaster with a scowl. A grin spread across Harry's face as he saw him.
"Finally."
Dumbledore grimaced slightly at the harsh expression on the man's face, but sighed and shook his head with a smile.
Asshole. Bastard. Manipulative old coot! You know very well who the hell is behind Moody's face. Harry cursed and cursed again in his mind as he stopped himself from glaring daggers at Dumbledore.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Alastor Moody."
Bartemius Crouch Jr. Harry corrected, staring at the man. The memory he had of Alastor Moody was vivid. In his first life, the man died protecting him, but the moment he became Malcolm, Moody was someone he had grown to despise in a way. He wondered why, why of all people, Barty had chosen to disguise himself as Moody.
Harry drummed his fingers on the table, not caring for the announcement of the Triwizard cup. His eyes were set on Moody, narrowing them as he watched the man take a swig out of his container. He wanted to grab the man, drag him to the chamber of secrets, and force him to admit why he chose Moody of all people. Barty might have pretended to be Moody out of spite.
Twirling his wand in between his fingers, Harry relished in the sensation of his magic cutting through flesh. He remembered it, every single detail of that day when he was Malcolm. He remembered how he cut a man's eye, the remaining one at least, and plucked his eyeball out with his fingers.
Pretending to be your lover's murderer… how fucking morbid of you Barty. Harry thought with a dark grin, Good thing I killed him that time.
It wasn't hard to forget how he had gouged out Moody's remaining eye with his own bare hands and choked him to death.
Notes:
My initial notes regarding the muggleborns of Slytherin. You cannot tell me they don't exist! There are so many of them who would most likely be Slytherins and start pretending to be half-bloods to save themselves. I like this concept but it's also sad.
I know that in most Fanfictions, Slytherin is represented as a united front where they protect each other from those outside of their house, but what of internal conflict? The muggleborns of Slytherin would observe and research about blood status and adapt to the information they gather.
Older muggleborns would quickly start instructing the younger muggleborns on what to do, how to act, and overall keep their heads down. Maybe the heads of houses know their muggleborns, maybe they don't. I don't really think Snape pays that much attention to the blood status and surnames of his students... Honestly, he only pays attention to Harry cause he hates him.
Slytherins are cunning, resourceful, determined, clever, and value preservation. They are quick witted and would essentially be good at adapting to certain situations. Muggleborns sorted into Slytherin may have a higher survival instinct and quickly adapt to the situation they are in. They are painfully aware that supposedly, they are at the bottom of the hierarchy. (Harry despises this with his entire being.)
I'd like to think that Harry isn't the only one in the trio who could have been a Slytherin. Ron had the potential of a Slytherin. He was ambitious and determined, but also persevered in a household with multiple children who were extremely talented. (I like to think that all seven Weasleys woukd have been great Slytherins. Have you seen them?)
Hermione herself, is a girl filled with ambition and a desire to be the best. She is cunning, she is clever, she assesses situations in a way I often am reminded of Slytherins.
I'm not saying the three of them are destined for Slytherin, but I am saying they had great potential to be snakes.
Anyways, Harry was really cocky in this chapter. Was that nice? Yeah it felt nice to write. No matter what he does, Hadrian is still James's son. Add in the alleged sass Lily Evans' was practically born with, he is destined to have a cockiness that people would hate.
Enjoy the start of the next ten chapters!