By the time McGonagall dropped Harry back at the orphanage, fully packed trunk in hand, it was late into the afternoon.
My brother struggled quite a bit; having to haul his heavy luggage back into his room without the aid of McGonagall's magic.
The boy had barely managed to hide it beneath the underside of his bunkbed before a familiar face popped its head around the dormitory's open door.
"Sup, Red," The teenage boy waved a hand at Harry lazily. The simple moniker was inspired by Harry's fiery red hair. "Get up. Kevin wants us in the kitchen to help out."
"Again?" Harry groaned. "I'm tired. Can't he find a different slave to order around this time?"
Andrew let out a dry smile in response, before hitting a quick salute and then beckoning the exhausted Harry toward him. "Onwards, soldier - To battle."
Harry groaned again, louder this time; hiding his face, and his smirk, in his hands.
Andrew was one of the only people other than me that Harry actively enjoyed being in the presence of. He found the boy's all-but-trademarked sarcasm highly entertaining.
My brother didn't have any friends his age, simply because he couldn't relate to them at all. He was just too different to have anything in common with them - Both intellectually and emotionally.
Despite Andrew having only joined the orphanage a year prior, the two had hit it off pretty well, with their friendship quickly surpassing the depths of any other Harry had been a part of so far.
In addition to this, the adults working in the orphanage had interpreted Andrew's depressingly pessimistic wit as maturity and had assigned him to most of the same roles that Harry had to match this expectation.
This led to the two, more often than not, ending up in the kitchen to help out with meal prep.
Andrew had emerald green eyes and short curly hair, much like my brother did, and was similarly shorter than most others his age.
The starkest difference between them, other than their differing ages, was the colour of the boy's hair.
It was a near-lifeless shade of gothic black, which was vastly different from my brother's distinct fiery red, and was usually complemented by the boy's dark style of clothing and perpetually tired expression.
"Oh, it'll definitely be a battleground alright." My brother replied, getting to his feet and following his fifteen-year-old friend out of the dormitory. "Your sister will probably lie her way in again to spend time with you. You know she has Kevin wrapped around her little finger." Harry paused after referencing the matron's gullible assistant. Then he fixed his friend with a positively evil look. "Who knows, maybe she'll decide to 'borrow' another one of the kitchen knives this time?"
"Please, please, do not go putting any ideas into her head," Andrew said, his tone sounding genuinely concerned. "I barely managed to sneak that one back the first time around. Kevin was this close to figuring out it was gone," The boy hovered his thumb and forefinger just slightly apart. "This close. And I don't even want to think about what she was planning on doing with the damn thing before I took it back from her."
Harry snorted with derision, deliberately choosing not to reply in an attempt to put his friend on edge.
His attempt fell flat. Epically.
Andrew just sighed; seemingly resigned to his fate, as if the future Harry suggested was already set in stone.
The duo of boys reached the kitchen quickly; pushing its heavy door open and striding inside.
"Ah, there you are Harry," A kind-sounding male voice entered my brother's ears. "Thanks for bringing him over Andrew. Oh, and your sister is-"
The man was broken off mid-sentence as a black-haired girl collided with my brother's friend, knocking the teen off balance and sending him tumbling backwards through the half-closed door.
"Andy!" The girl squealed, grinning up into Andrew's chest. Both of her arms wrapped themselves tightly around his torso. "I've been waiting for you!"
"Aha…" The teen replied, letting out an awkward laugh and slowly moving his arms to return the enthusiastic hug. "Hello Ashley."
Harry's grin turned downright wicked, and he mouthed a very easily interpretable, "I told you so" Right behind the girl's back, giving his reluctant-looking friend a very pointed stare.
Andrew sent my brother a dark look of warning that clearly ordered him to stay quiet. Then he began to pry the clingy girl away from him gently, much to her own chagrin.
'It's good to see that no matter how crazy this world gets, these two never change.' Harry murmured fondly, staring at the two orphaned siblings before him.
「 Teenage parenthood. 」I sighed - Almost theatrically; referencing the two's uncanny relationship.「 It doesn't get any less tragic the more you see of it. 」
"Heya Red." The girl said, now on her feet once again. She sauntered over to ruffle Harry's hair affectionately.
My brother had grown far too desensitized to Ashley's patronising behaviour to care even the slightest bit about her customary antics.
"How's the scholarly life treating you?" She asked, grinning down at him.
It took my brother an embarrassingly long moment to realise that the girl was referencing his unorthodox, and widely well-known habit of reading advanced literature, rather than his recent magical pursuits.
Harry flushed inwardly, a feeling I wordlessly poked fun at.
Oh the joys of mental communication.
"Terribly boring as usual," Harry replied, needling me back and moving forward to accept the apron Kevin was offering him. "But at least I'll have a house when I'm old and wrinkled."
The jibe was aimed at Ashley's complete lack of care concerning literally everything - Including her academic pursuits.
You'd think being moved into an orphanage would have smartened her up - But it hadn't. It clearly hadn't.
"Bah," She waved away the jibe uncaringly with one hand, her lip curling upwards in an almost taunting amusement. "I'll have Andy to take care of me."
This unusually placid reaction earned her a set of slightly uneasy looks; one from my brother, and one coming from Andrew.
The girl that was smirking before us generally got annoyed far too easily for her own good - Something that had landed her into a fair bit of trouble more times than either I or Harry cared to remember.
She could never take an exchange of insults for long before getting angry, no matter how veiled Harry made them.
It was honestly a wonder Ashley even tolerated my brother at all, the amount of times she'd snapped at him already.
I had a strange, nagging sentiment that there was a deeper reason behind her extensive tolerance of him, but so far; a hunch was all that feeling was.
In any case, the only time these rages didn't happen was when the girl was too focused on planning a get-back to care. Something that was usually malicious enough to keep her sadistic interests actively engaged and pointed away from her offender.
So, given her distinct lack of reaction, the natural assumption the three of us came to was that she was already in the midst of planning something. Likely within the kitchen; as she had evidently weaselled her way inside, yet again.
"Come on Ash," Kevin Interjected, fixing the girl with a gaze full of a kind, but misplaced understanding. "Andrew won't be able to take care of you forever - You'll have to stand on your own two feet one day."
Ashley quickly turned away from the smiling assistant to conceal her rapidly darkening expression. She crossed her arms and huffed crossly.
Every word that had just come out of Kevin's mouth had resulted in pushing at least three of her many, many buttons.
Harry noticed this immediately; suppressing a laugh as he stared across at the irritated girl.
'Nickname, check; leaving Andrew, check; honest sympathy, check.' The boy listed, ticking off everything wrong the man had said during those two short sentences. 'Kevin's on a roll today - That was almost bingo.'
Ashley strutted out of the kitchen, still in a huff; wisely choosing not to dirty her reputation with the orphanage assistant by pushing back against his obviously well-intentioned comment.
If it were literally anyone else, she would have made her irritancy very well-known.
The girl didn't bother to deign any of us with so much as a goodbye before she retreated into the hallway, her face once again a perfect mask of childish innocence.
I idly wondered how much longer that fragile act of hers would fool people for.
Ashley wasn't a child anymore. Acting so entitled just wasn't acceptable behaviour at her current age, and it wouldn't do her any favours in the long run - Especially after considering her now orphaned status.
Kevin stared after the departing girl, shaking his head ruefully.
He was likely having much of the same thoughts as me but for very different reasons.
The man slowly picked out and handed the wincing Andrew an apron of the correct size before busying himself with cutting the carrots once more.
「 Strike one. 」I said dryly.「 Two more of those and she'll have another tantrum - Probably take it out on the younger ones again. Kevin's lucky that he dotes on her. 」
The kind assistant had a good heart, it was true, but he was far too trusting for his own good.
He truly believed Ashley could do no wrong, and any wrong she did do was just a byproduct of her apparent abandonment.
It was the kind of honest naivety that only a true altruist possessed, which I supposed made sense considering the man worked in an orphanage.
Harry nodded in a muted agreement, quickly repressing a laugh as he watched Andrew eye the slowly closing door with a sentiment that looked akin to relief.
Then his friend's pale face suddenly whitened.
The teenager turned on the spot, walking straight over to the knife drawer before pulling it open roughly.
Andrew pushed the small pile of sharp utensils around and around anxiously, and it was clear to me that he was counting how many were contained inside.
After a few seconds of furious searching; Andrew facepalmed, kneading his forehead in frustration. "Fucking hell..." He said, his voice too low for the busy Kevin to hear. "There's one missing. For god's sake Ashley…"
Harry snorted loudly, before hastily stifling the sound behind a hand.
Despite his mirth, my brother quickly took pity on his friend after noticing the tremors wracking Andrew's hands. The teen looked utterly furious.
My brother slowly tapped Andrew on the shoulder to catch his attention before jerking his thumb toward the thankfully oblivious Kevin; who was using the missing knife to chop up the vegetables that were laid out there.
The teenager blinked in confusion. Then his face lightened. He sighed in a quiet relief. "Thank god for that." He murmured, sending Harry a grateful, and slightly guilty look.
With that, the two boys got to work.
Both Harry and Andrew took Kevin's place at the cutting station, allowing the older man to move onto what he believed to be the more unsafe aspect of cooking; ergo, operating the machinery.
My brother, being far more skilled with a knife than Andrew was, finished with his task far quicker than he did; wielding the utensil with a sharp efficiency that would have left even a qualified chef amazed.
Harry took a discreet look around to make sure Kevin wasn't looking, before unashamedly stealing a slice of cucumber from the pile in front of him and popping it into his mouth.
Then Harry choked loudly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head in a horrified shock.
The moment the vegetable touched his tongue, a horrific taste had erupted outwards from around the point of contact, instantly flooding across the entirety of his mouth.
In that split second of contact, our skin crawled with an intrinsic, instinctual revulsion I could barely even begin to fathom.
The flavour felt alive. It shifted around inside our mouth, switching and re-adjusting its essence as if it were purposefully and calculatingly worsening its own taste the more time went by.
My brother barely managed to suppress his overwhelming urge to throw up on the spot, a reflex I would no doubt have failed at stifling, and hastily spat the slice back into his hand.
My mind reeled underneath the strain of the purest, most hypnotizing form of disgust I had ever experienced. It disabled me completely, leaving me unable to form even a single comprehensive thought.
Andrew, unlike the still fully oblivious Kevin, looked over in mild concern upon hearing the frantic choking noises coming from my brother.
He eyed the cucumber that had very clearly been spat into Harry's open palm before letting out a derisive snort. He could take a guess as to what had happened. "Karmic." The boy chuckled, before returning to his own culinary task.
Harry lurched away from the cutting station, making as straight a beeline as he could manage in his sickened state; aiming for the duo of empty sinks to our right.
My brother couldn't even muster a retort at Andrew for his quiet laughter; so revolted that he couldn't even formulate the words necessary to speak.
'Art. What. The fuck. Was that?' He wheezed internally, turning the tap on full and bending over the rim of the basin, desperately trying to wash the unbearable taste of rot out from his mouth.
「 I don't- know. 」I answered disjointedly, feeling thoroughly relieved. The cold, tasteless water that was rushing across our tongue was quickly erasing the horrible flavour.「 It tasted rotten. But so strong? 」
'This is more magic bullshit.' Harry muttered angrily, beginning to rub at his mouth with a furious effort. 'I'm calling it. Right. Fucking. Now.'
Finding myself with no better ideas, and still slightly sickened, I took a deep dive into my magical reservoir; scouring it for any kind of change.
Nothing was out of the ordinary. My river still flowed exactly as normal.
There were no changes to Harry's cracked, hollow-feeling reservoir either. Nothing.
"Ow! Oh… Fuck."
Harry's softly spoken curse coupled with a momentary wave of pain drew me back to the present.
The boy had accidentally raked the back of his hand across a set of viciously sharp teeth.
Across his teeth. Our teeth.
Two curved red lines ran across the pale skin of my brother's right hand.
Deep, crimson-coloured liquid began to feed out of the near-identical set of wounds; large beads of blood trickling down the skin of his shaking fingers and dripping into the steel basin below.
I stared at our blood in apprehension, watching as it mixed with the still-running water.
We looked on as the tears in his skin slowly knitted themselves shut, working layer by layer until not a single imperfection remained.
Within three seconds, the skin on the back of his hand returned to looking as flawless as it once had, prior to the cuts' infliction.
Harry thrust his hands under the flowing tap water, hastily washing away the sticky lines of blood coating out hand. All remaining evidence of our now-healed injury quickly vanished into the sink's plughole.
『 So he did get turned after all. 』I thought, feeling grimly satisfied. My assessment had turned out to be correct.『 But those… Fangs. When exactly did they appear? 』
'Yeah, okay.' Harry muttered staring down at his hand uneasily. 'I'm starting to think your vampire idea has some merit now.'
My brother reached up and traced a thumb and forefinger across one of his overhanging, and now enlarged canines.
It was long and curved; its tip a deadly, razor-sharp.
Harry moved his probing fingers down to his lower jaw.
His bottom ones too, were much the same, feeling only slightly shorter than his top set.
Even if, physically, they didn't feel any different from usual; I still couldn't understand how neither I nor Harry had managed not to notice them for so long. How nobody else had managed to notice them for so long.
And when had this change happened, exactly?
They certainly didn't transform immediately after being bitten. We had checked.
Harry retracted the hand from his mouth and stared downwards at his unnaturally sharp nails. 'I really am changing, aren't I?' He murmured, the barest hint of worry seeping into his tone. 'You were right.'
"Harry, everything okay over there?" Kevin's voice sounded from our left.
"Yeah," The boy called back smoothly, moving his hand to turn off the still-running tap. "Just needed some water."
'And magic bullshit it was.' Harry muttered, his thoughts suddenly souring. 'Fucking great.'
「 Don't eat a thing until we figure this out, okay? And don't get hurt either. 」I instructed, not feeling nearly as worried as I probably should've been.「 Especially not in front of other people. Make up an excuse to go back to your room so you can miss dinner if you have to. We need to figure out exactly what else might've changed - Privately. 」
'Yeah, agreed.' Harry acknowledged, making his way back to the cutting station bitterly.
Harry didn't say another word after that, to either me or Andrew.
I feel that his mind was full of worry - Though he was trying very hard to repress it.
I didn't blame him for his nervousness.
His day so far had been anything but normal.
He'd been attacked by vampires, then turned into one, and then lost access to his magic - All within a short span of three hours.
It was unsettling, to say the least, and didn't paint the wizarding world in a very flattering light.
『 Just another day in the life of Harry Potter. 』I thought.『 And he isn't even the chosen one this time around. Whoever boy-wonder is this time around; they're going to have it tough. 』
I wanted to shake my head in disbelief; to laugh at the pure absurdity of what had happened earlier that day; but I couldn't.
I was too frustrated to care.
Feeling through, but being unable to command a body was infuriating.
I genuinely preferred not being able to feel anything at all. At least then my existence wouldn't be so fucking maddening.
Real, genuine control felt so unbelievably close.
This was yet another thing that felt just barely out of reach. Another thing just barely out of my control.
To top of off, there hadn't been a visit to Gringotts to make Harry aware of his inheritance either.
I honestly didn't think that McGonagall would be the type of person to hide this from Harry - Or to forget about it either.
Not only because of what I had read about her in the books but also because of what I had now seen of her character.
She was strict, it was true, but she was fair as well. Mischievous too, though that quality seemed to have mellowed in her great age.
The only thing I could fault her for so far was leaving my brother alone during his visit to the Red Ward.
So, with that all taken into account, this left me with only one final possibility.
Harry - And anyone else who was in a position to do so for him, didn't have access to the Potter accounts. This meant they either didn't exist, or only his mother had a permit to enter them.
Assuming the latter was true, then this begged the question: If Lily was completely indisposed, why hadn't the account management yet been passed on to someone else?
『 Oh. 』I thought, as a suitable explanation fell into place.『 Don't tell me… 』
It was because she wasn't actually dead. Wasn't it?
Even so, I sincerely doubted that no matter how backwards the Ministry of Magic was shown to be in the books; they would deny Harry access to his finances when his mother was in such a terrible state.
But then again, now that I thought about it; the ministry's opinion didn't really matter, did it?
The Ministry of Magic weren't the one who governed over Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
『 Great. Just great, 』I thought, brooding over the likely inordinate amount of funding we had presumably been barred access from.『 Money-hungry Goblins gatekeeping our shortcut to an easy life. Brilliant. 』
I was starting to feel infuriated once again.
『 Why does everything never go my way? Universe, can't I just get a single win? Is that such a hard request to ask for? 』
I sighed quietly.
『 Never mind. I'll figure something out. 』I thought, feeling depressingly reluctant.『 Just like I always have. 』
✽ ✽ ✽
〘 A/N: If you know, you know. And if you do know, then don't expect them to be identical matches of their original counterparts. 〙