Authors Notes = A/N

"Normal Speech."

'Thoughts."

"Foreign Language."

"Sacred Gears/Weapon spirits speech."

'Sacred Gear/ Weapon spirits thoughts."

A/N:

Why hello there folks, my name is MetalGearMantis, and welcome to my newest story.

Now this is, without a single doubt, going to be the biggest and most complex cross-over that I have ever planned. I spent almost sixteen hours painstakingly going over every detail, and that only covers the first half of the story! This is an Amalga-verse involving major elements from: Harry Potter, Highschool DxD and Code Geass. It will also include minor inclusions from series such as : Bleach, Fairy Tail and many other shows.

Like I said, I've never attempted anything of this scale before, and as such I am a little nervous as to how it will be received. But hey: nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

I'm going to point out now that this story will not immediately include the things I've mentioned. They will be indirectly referenced, but in order for this story to work properly, I'm starting from the ground up. It's going to take us roughly fifteen (ish) chapters to hit DxD cannon (which is the main focus of this story), but there will be major interactions with aspects of the series long before that – it just won't be cannon events.

Also, I am going to deal with any potential FAQ's now with a few notes below:

Q: Will Harry and co. use wand-based magic in this story?

A: No, the story will use the style of Magic found in Highschool DxD, mixed in with Geass' from CG and other magics from other magic-based shows, such as Fairy-Tail.

Q: Will this be a Harem fic?

A: Yes, and Harry's harem WILL contain girls from all three major series: but I will NOT reveal them off the bat. It spoils the fun of finding out who's in love with who and how different relationships will play out. Well, aside from the fact that Harry isn't paired with Rias: she's still Issei's number one girl, and the whole Harry x Rias thing is just something that is a bit overdone and a pairing I don't (personally) like. Also, the harem won't go any larger than ten or eleven members, but you guys will get to vote on some of the members, so don't worry about it too much.

Q: Is this a neglect fic (I.E Harry's parents just don't give a shit about him?)

A: No. In fact, a lot of the issues Harry has now will be replaced or adapted later on. His parents love him and know he's there but… well it's explained in the chapter, so just make sure to pay attention XD.

Q: Will Harry have a Sacred Gear?

A:Yes. And No, I'm not saying what it is: it'll ruin the surprise. But if you read the story VERY carefully and think about it, you may get an idea as to what his Gear may be before it makes its epic appearance.

Q: Is Harry going to be 'dark' in this fic?

A: He's most certainly an Anti-hero in my opinion. He's the man who walks the fine line between madness and sanity, evil and good, the truth and deceit, all for the good of the world. What do I mean by this? Well you're gonna have to wait and see, I'm afraid!

Any ways, I've said enough for now.

Let's get this show started.

(Edit Note: Thanks to ApocalypticPhoenix for Beta-ing the chapter. Make sure to go check out Phoenix's work: awesome writer who deserves far more acclaim than he has!)

(Prologue: The birth of a legend).

(England, Potter Manor, Manchester area, 10:47 PM, June 30th 2007)

Thunder rumbled through the night sky like a vengeful god, drowning the land below in a cacophony of noise that few had ever experienced. Rain was falling from the sky in sheets of icy water and the winds themselves seemed to howl in anger and defiance, as if protesting against some great crime. The entirety of northern England was bathed in this monstrous storm, and none more so than the area around the Potter estate near Manchester… and yet, oddly enough, the House itself was only subjected to the faintest gust of wind and the light pitter-patter of rain as it steadily hit the ground.

Said house was a gorgeous building that was clearly modelled in the Victorian-gothic style that so many Wizarding families seemed keen on. Spanning for what seemed like hundreds of meters in both width and depth, the Manor was fit to house a King for a lifetime, with enough space for a thousand servants and hundreds of guests. The light grey walls allowed the heavy, well-worn oak timbers that made up the doors and windows to stand out, whilst the grotesques that were perched underneath the overhanging roof kept a silent yet menacing vigil over the ancient families vast estate.

And it was in one of this houses' hundreds of rooms that one would find a young boy no older than eleven years old staring out across the great fields that surrounded his home with a disturbingly apathetic gaze that would strike fear into the hearts of any full-grown man or woman. His vibrant amethyst eyes were most certainly his most striking feature alongside his thick mop of jet-black hair that seemed to spike into the air at absolute random, with no sense of rhyme or reason. His face was smooth and aristocratic, and there was no denying that in a few years' time he would be breaking hearts and wooing women wherever he went.

And yet none of this could take away from the tenseness in his frame as he continued to stare out of the window. It was extremely subtle, but it was most certainly there if one knew where to look for it, and it was made more obvious by his slight, yet lithe build.

'I can't believe that tomorrow is the day that I finally find out whether or not I'll be leaving her for god knows how long at a time.' The young boy thought to himself as he stared out of his window, whilst his thoughts drifted away back into the raging ocean that he called his thoughts. His earlier comments had been about his little sister, Lucy Potter. He and his baby sister had formed an almost inseparable bond over the years that they had been alive, and Harry James Potter would easily admit that the person he loved most in his family was his little sister. Others would try and say that they loved every member of their family equally, but Harry knew that it was not true. In the same way that he loved his little sister more than anyone (and she, him), Harry knew that his parents' true affections lay with their first born: twin sisters, Iris and Rose.

And to be honest, he couldn't blame his parents: they were smart, witty and regarded as the brightest witches of their generation. At thirteen, the two of them had spent a lot of time already at Hogwarts, and were eager to get their third year underway: and as a direct consequence were able to generate more interest from Harry's parents, much like his older brother, who was already regarded as a Quidditch prodigy in the making with the potential to eventually become a professional player.

And Harry was none of those.

He wasn't unbelievably clever like his sisters, but he was most certainly a genius. He was charming but he didn't make any real form of effort to work on it, so he was no-where near the level of his Sisters or brother. His skills in Quidditch were passable, but no-where near the levels of his brother, father or even his sisters, which ensured that he was thoroughly outclassed by his siblings whenever they played. In many ways, he could be considered your bog-standard, average child with no real skills or special talents when compared to the rest of his family.

And that's because his skills were not as common as those found in his family.

From a very early age, Harry had always been of a more….. violent and manipulative disposition. He was easily able to turn the tables against his siblings when it came to dodging a punishment, whilst his more violent nature had almost lead to several all-out brawls between him and his older brother, Alexander. And the few times that any form of violence did erupt, Harry always seemed to swiftly gain the upper hand… as if such things were natural to him. He had a natural talent for fighting and tricking other people into believing what he wanted them to.

The trouble was that Harry knew his family would not take kindly to his unusual skill-set. Both of his parents bought into the pacifist ideology that was promoted by their former Headmaster from school, Albus Dumbledore. As such, his naturally aggressive and vindictive skills would hardly mesh with the ideas that they had for him: they wanted their children to follow in their footsteps, to fight only as a last resort and be honest and kind to those around them.

'Ignorant idiots, the lot of them!' He thought to himself bitterly as he kept his gaze fixed firmly on the outside world. He didn't want to leave for 'Hogwarts School of Mage-craft', but unfortunately his parents were adamant that he attend the same school as his siblings.

Something about 'keeping the family together', or some other rubbish like that.

'Yeah, because ignoring me is really striving to keep the family together, isn't it?' Harry thought to himself bitterly as he continued to ponder the treatment that he had been subjected to over the past few years. His parents didn't outright ignore him, but they certainly didn't try to create any extra time to spend with their second youngest child, like they did the rest of the family.

He tried to gain their attention constantly, but when he did so, his siblings would always do something that would outshine his own accomplishment and therefore push him to the back of his parents minds. The first time he had truly reacted to all of this, he had been so angry about all of it that he had gone to the family's underground training area and practiced for several hours, venting all of his frustrations until he was both physically and magically exhausted. He would repeat this action for weeks on end, and would emerge after each session to only be greeted by his youngest and most treasured sibling.

However, eventually the rage began to subside, and Harry began to see his situation for what it really was: an inescapable blind-zone of notice. No matter what he did, he had come to accept that for as long as he tried to be like his sisters and brothers, he would always be outclassed by them. And so he decided to take a different path, not one of knowledge and not one of sports.

But that of fighting.

Henceforth, from the day when the red-mist finally cleared from Harry's mind, he had thrown himself into his family's library for hours at a time for weeks on end, hungrily devouring every last text he could find on fighting and various aspect of combat. Eventually, Harry came to realise that he seemed to have a certain attraction towards two rather conflicting styles: Destruction and Illusion magic.

Normally, a Mage would only practice one or two of the aforementioned styles in conjunction with a supporting magic style in order to complement their form of combat. However, Harry found that when applied together correctly, the two of them created an extremely dangerous combination that few people even several years his senior would be able to defeat. It was the combination that was going to take him to the pinnacle of the Supernatural world. There was no room for second place, no room for failure. His life was either going to be boring and monotonous, and he would die during the attempt to make himself famous by becoming the strongest mage alive….

Or he would eclipse the achievements of his family members and become the single most famous mage in all of existence.

He didn't know how he was going to do this, but all he knew was that it was his destiny to become the strongest there ever was, and that nothing would stand in his way.

'There's no room for failure or second place. It's all or bust: the pinnacle of the Supernatural world or the gutter of failures. And I refuse to be a part of that gutter!' The young man thought to himself decisively as he continued to stare out into the night-time sky, his eyes burning with the determination that few could ever hope to comprehend. It was the determination of someone who would never give up or give in; of a man who refused to understand what defeat meant, and would do anything to ensure his victory.

They were the eyes of Harry Potter, the fourth child of the current Potter family…..

The boy who would become a legend.

(The next morning)

Harry let out a tired yawn as he stretched his hands above his head, grunting in satisfaction as his spine unleashed several deep 'cracks'. He was currently clad in a surprisingly muggle outfit (given the Western Wizarding world's tendency to stick to old-fashioned robes and what not) that his mother had insisted each of her children be comfortable wearing, so that they wouldn't look silly should they ever take an excursion to the 'muggle' world.

Looking towards his door, the youngest male Potter let out a small sigh of resignation as he opened his door and began to traverse the winding corridors of his family's gargantuan home. He spared only a small glance towards the beautiful pieces of art and other such decorations that littered the room, ensuring that he did not break stride, and instead kept up his steady pace towards the informal dining room of the house, as it was where the Potter family took most of its meals due to the patriarch's rather laid back nature, and his wife's insistence that they not be cooped up in too many stuffy rooms whilst at home.

Eventually, he reached the main staircase of the entrance hall, a large and expansive area that was mostly comprised of the dominating staircase which split down either side of the room's walls, therefore creating not only a small balcony, but also leaving plenty of room for formal occasions and a rather grand oak door that would lead into the formal dining area. The two walls were again covered with art, but this time they were not randomly picked pieces that the Potter family had claimed over the years, but rather pictures of each head of the family, with the most recent addition being a picture of his father, which was currently sleeping.

The young 'Wizard' politely nodded a greeting to the paintings that were 'awake', so that he did not cause offence to any of his ancestors, even if they were not real. Harry never truly understood the reasoning behind animating paintings, especially those of family members who were now dead. It felt slightly creepy that the painting was, for all intents and purposes, actually that person: mannerisms and all. He didn't know the magic behind creating them, but all Harry knew was that he would never allow anyone to create a painting of him like this.

The thought alone made the youngest Potter male shiver slightly at the thought.

He was just about to cut through the dining room so that he could reach its informal equivalent and get something to eat, but before he could commence his journey to the doors, a small voice broke through the relative quiet of the entrance hall.

"Harry, wait up!"

Turning around, the youngest male Potter couldn't help but let a small smile grace his lips as he watched the owner of the voice race down the steps as fast as they could to greet him. Said person was a young girl no older than six or seven years of age. She had long, luscious brown hair that reached down to her mid back and her eyes were the exact same shade of violet as her elder brother's. She had a small, cute button nose and rosy red cheeks that emphasised her large smile as she raced towards her elder sibling.

Harry let out a small grunt when the girl collided with his stomach like a speeding bullet, forcing him to take a step backwards lest they both go tumbling to the ground. Once they were on a stable footing again, Harry couldn't help but laugh lightly and bend down ever so slightly as he reciprocated his youngest sibling's affections with a similar hug.

"Good morning to you too, Lucy. How are you today?" He asked softly, causing the girl's smile to widen immensely before dropping slightly as she buried her face into her brother's mid-section before replying.

"I'm happy…..but also sad at the same time." She replied softly, causing Harry to frown slightly. His sister's happiness was the single most important thing to him in the world alongside his own personal ambition, and as such it made him upset to think that she was unhappy about anything. And seeing as he had a good idea as to what it was that had made her so upset, Harry decided that it would be best to speak to her about it now, before she could cause a scene at the dinner table.

"What are you sad about, Lucy?" He asked her whilst gently un-prising her from around his waist, revealing that her eyes had gone slightly puffy and had already begun to glisten with unshed tears. The girl fixed her violet orbs onto Harry's own endless purple seas before she decided to answer her elder sibling's question.

"I don't want you to leave. You're….my favourite, big brother, and I don't want to be alone in the house. It's bad enough that the house is so big, but when you leave there won't be anyone here." Lucy had started off strong in her speech, but as her answer grew in length, the strength and conviction with which she spoke began to dwindle and die and was soon replaced with small sobs until she finally broke down in-front of her brother, who immediately dropped slightly to her height and swept her into a soft yet tight embrace. He stood there for a while, with his youngest and most precious sibling bawling her eyes out, gently whispering soothing words into her ear in an effort to slowly calm the upset little girl down a bit. Whilst he was doing this, his mind was racing at a million miles an hour, processing different thoughts.

'Damn it, how the hell could I call myself a good big brother if I just leave Lucy here all by herself? I could ask mum or dad if I could be home-schooled for a year so that she's a little bit older and will take it better.

But I can't do that. I need to be at Hogwarts from the very start in order to ensure that my education is of the highest standard. Also, I need to be able to find at least one person within the staff body that will be willing to help me advance my fighting abilities; even if it's only in terms of the basics. Any sort of help would be appreciated, and I'd be a fool to turn down the opportunity Hogwarts represents as a resource.

And besides, Lucy's only got to wait four more years and then she'll be at the school as well with Uncle Sirius' kid. And even then, she'll still have me around for three years whilst she's there, so it's not the end of the world.'

Having let his thoughts run their course, the young boy turned his attention to his younger sister, who had calmed down to the point that she was only softly sniffling. Breaking his embrace, Harry gently took Lucy by the shoulders and held her at arm's length before he began to speak to her.

"Lucy, you know I don't want to leave either, but sometimes we have to do things we don't want, for the good of all. Me leaving to go to Hogwarts may hurt you now, but in the long run it's for the best: if I don't go I wouldn't be able to control my magic properly and I wouldn't make any new friends.

I know it seems cruel and unfair, but in the end all you have to remember is that I will come back at Christmas and in the Summer, and I'll spend as much time as I can with you." He said gently yet with enough force that his sister would know it would be fruitless to argue against him. Gently sniffing, the girl wiped her eyes before nodding her head in agreement, earning a small smile from Harry who cocked his head towards the doors that he had originally been heading towards in the first place.

"Now enough about all of this. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry; and I'm pretty certain that mum said she would be making pancakes today~!" Harry finished in a sing-song voice that earned a giggle from his little sister, whose eyes seemed to have turned into stars at the mention of pancakes. Grabbing hold of her brother's hand, the young girl began to drag Harry towards the dining room. However, before they set off, Harry caught sight of something on his little sister's forehead that caused him to almost snarl in anger.

For on his sister's forehead was a small angry-red scar, shaped like a lightning bolt falling from the skies, as if Zeus himself had cast iy from the heavens. It was famous throughout the entirety of the Wizarding world as the mark left on the defeater of Wizarding Britain's greatest foe. A runic scar that nobody had ever been able to explain, even six years after the event.

It was the last mark of Lord Voldemort, the scar that marked his sister as 'The Girl Who Lived'.

The rest of the family had been out of the house at the time at some official Ministry function, which had been thrown in an attempt to alleviate the stress of the on-going war and remind people that victory was actually closer than they realised. Harry, his sister and their baby sitter, James Potter's mother, had been the only people in the house at Godric's Hollow at the time. A family friend, Peter Pettigrew, had sold out the location of the youngest Potter children to the Dark Lord who sought to kill Lucy for reasons that all but (out of the children in the Family) Harry's eldest sisters were not privy to.

He knew that something happened that day, but he still had no clue as to the specifics even though he was there. Past his grandmother's orders to run, Harry couldn't remember a damned thing; and it infuriated him to no end. He wanted to remember so that he could find out if the Dark lord had let anything slip as to why he was attempting to kill his sister. But every time he tried to remember, his head began to pound ferociously, as if someone had hit him over the head with a cricket bat. He hadn't given up hope yet of reaching the information, but he also accepted that he may well never remember what happened.

'Either way it doesn't really matter in the end. The evil git is dead and that's all that matters; and as long as he stays that way, I couldn't care if he told me the secret for immortality itself. As long as there's nothing that threatens my sister in there, I couldn't care less for what he had to say.' Harry thought to himself resolutely. He was about to drift into another line of thought, specifically pertaining to his upcoming year at school, but before he could drift too far into his thoughts, another voice snapped him out of the ocean that was his mind.

"Good morning Harry and my little Lucy. How are you both today?"

Shaking his head slightly, Harry refocused his gaze into the world of the living. He found his violet orbs greeted by the sight of the rest of his family, sat down at the table enjoying breakfast.

The first two people he noticed were his elder sisters, Iris and Rose, who were both sat there chatting away about something mundane. In terms of facial structure and body type, they were both very similar; soft features and pale complexions in conjunction with their developing bodies indicated that they would both be beauties when they finally matured fully. However, whereas Rose had long red hair which reached the middle of her back (which was the source of her namesake), Iris had much shorter black hair, which she did not allow to pass past her shoulders. Their eyes were also of completely different colours: Iris had inherited their mother's shocking green eyes, whilst Rose had somehow managed to get stuck with their father's blazing brown orbs.

The next two people were easily identifiable as father and son: the elder of the two had black hair and brown eyes and a strong, defined face that was arguably 'ruggedly handsome'. His build appeared to be slightly more stocky by nature than Harry, much like his eldest son, who had also taken after their father in terms of his build.

In fact, had one not known any better, they could easily be forgiven for mistaking the younger of the two for a 'mini-me' of the elder man. These two were James and Alexander Potter, Harry's father and brother respectively. However, it was neither of these two who called out to Harry and Lucy when they entered the room: no that was done by none-other than Harry's mother.

Lily Potter (nee Evans) was a kind and wonderful woman who was easily recognisable thanks to her shocking red hair which one of her three daughter had inherited. Her figure was full and curvy, but only moderately so, and yet you could not imagine her looking any different. Her green eyes were enhanced by the softness of her facial features and therefore served to only enhance her natural beauty. She wasn't the most gorgeous of witches, but her natural charm and wonderful demeanour easily compensated for anything that a person may find lacking in terms of her physical appeal. Her rouged lips were curled into a warm smile as she tried to open up a line of conversation with her youngest son.

'Smile back and be polite. You still love her, but don't let your love cloud how she and everyone else save Lucy have treated you over the past couple of years.' Harry thought to himself quickly before forcing a small smile onto his lips whilst replying alongside his sister to his mother's greeting. Settling down into a chair, Harry couldn't help but chuckle lightly as Lucy climbed into the seat next to him, which was fortunately between himself and his twelve year old brother. He himself had turned eleven about two weeks ago, and had expected his acceptance letter then; but he has been slightly dismayed to find out that all letters were sent out on the 31st June.

Sighing slightly, Harry quickly set about pouring himself and his little sister a glass of orange juice before his eldest sister, Iris, decided to speak up.

"So Harry, can you believe the big day is finally here?" She asked with a small grin, earning a non-committal shrug from her aforementioned sibling.

"About as excited as one can be about it all, I suppose." He replied blandly, earning an almost unnoticeable frown from Iris, but a small snort of amusement from Alex and Rose, the former of whom decided to take Harry's words as an opportunity to tease him a little bit.

"Aw~, is little Harrykins worried about leaving mummy and daddy alone for nine months?"

"Don't worry, big sister Rosy will take care of you~! Ignore that mean brother of yours and come sit with me!" Rose cut in, earning an annoyed scowl from Alex and a hearty chuckle from all those sat at the table, apart from Harry who merely smiled thinly at his sisters apparent attempt at 'comforting' him.

"I'm comfortable here, thanks." He replied neutrally, earning a soft pout from his elder sister. But when she realised that Harry wasn't paying her any attention, she decided to turn back to her earlier conversation with her twin sister. Harry muttered a quick thanks when his mother placed a plate full of pancakes onto the table in-front of him, but before he could dig into them, he found his vision obscured by a thick and heavy-looking envelope. Leaning back slightly, the youngest Potter male looked up to see his mother's smiling face beaming down at him.

"Did you honestly think that I would let you start eating without reading your acceptance letter first?" She asked cheerily, earning a small sigh from Harry as he slowly took the rough parchment from his mothers' hand.

'No, but I did pray that you would at least let me have some of this food.' He thought to himself in a mildly annoyed state of mind. Flipping the letter over and paying no heed to the address scrawled onto the front, Harry broke the wax seal on the back and immediately began reading his letter, whilst idly noting his elder siblings doing the same with their respective year's equipment lists.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

After reading the first few lines, Harry couldn't help but shake his head slightly. How on earth Albus Dumbledore thought that putting all of his titles in the first few lines of a letter didn't make him seem pretentious was beyond him. However, he also knew that trying to explain anything that the man did was like trying to contain a hurricane or other such natural phenomenon; it was downright impossible.

So shaking his head again, Harry continued to read.

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September (or when you happen to register). We await your owl by no Later than the 31st of July.

Yours Sincerely

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Putting the letter to the side, Harry quickly delved back into the envelope and eventually his hand re-emerged from within, dragging with it another piece of parchment which Harry knew would contain his equipment list. Unfolding the piece of parchment, Harry continued his boring trek through the hand-scrawled notes until he reached the end.

HOWGARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Uniform

First year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (Drake hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please not that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set Books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A beginner's guide to magical circles and their theory by Jensen Eldergleam

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl, cat or toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

'We live in the twenty first century, you'd think that they would write these out on a computer or something. It's not like ambient magic affects technology anymore, so why the hell people insist on doing things this way is beyond me.' Harry thought to himself exasperatedly as he placed the second piece of paper down and turned his attention back to his food. He sat there in peaceful silence with the rest of his family for a while before his father finally addressed him directly.

"So Harry, any class in particular that you're looking forward to?" He asked casually, earning a slightly raised eyebrow from said child. Harry paused his eating for several moments, as if contemplating his choice before nodding his head and providing his answer.

"Probably Defence if I'm honest. If there was still a duelling club then I'd say that overrides everything, but with the Headmaster's choice to get rid of it, I'll have to settle with the classroom equivalent." Harry replied, earning a small nod and a blinding smile from his father.

"Good choice that, apparently the teacher is solid this year. If you still need a club to join when you get there, then just join a club where nobody will care if you don't turn up. Because then next year, you'll be able to join the Quidditch team with zero fuss and start making a name for yourself amongst the ladies- ow, what the hell Lily?" The Potter patriarchs speech had started off well enough, but the moment he strayed into talking about women, his wife decided to nip the issue in the bud by waking him over the back of the head with her hand and offering her personal opinion on the matter.

"Don't you dare try and corrupt my baby boy with any of that nonsense. He's got plenty of time for girls when he's older!" She stated sternly, earning several rapid nods of the head from James Potter as he sought to avoid his wife's wrath. He may have fought against Death-Eaters and the Dark Lord himself without an ounce of fear in his bones, but his wife put the fear of god into him and was easily thirty times scarier than the former Dark lord, in his humble and (not) whipped opinion.

Smiling brightly at her husband's change in tune, Lily was about to take her plate up to wash it before a look passed across her face and she turned her attention to Alex.

"Oh yeah, by the way Alex do you guy need any new Quidditch gear when we go shopping? Same for you Iris, Rosy, do you guys need any more advanced textbooks for your studies with Professor Flitwick or anything like that?" She asked brightly, and immediately the conversation switched from Harry to his siblings. He knew it was petty, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as his parents began to simply lavish the praise onto his elder siblings. He knew deep down that it was parents natural instinct to want to praise their children, but he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed. After all, today was supposed to be his big day, with the attention focused mostly on him.

'Ad yet again, I've managed to slip through the cracks. God why do I have to still love these idiots? It would be so much easier if I could just hate them for the way they act and then leave them to their lives.

Ahhhhh screw it, I'm going to go get changed.'

And with that, the youngest Potter male slipped out of the dining room/kitchen without anyone noticing, except for a pair of green eyes that were boring into his back as he fled the room, with the two individuals having two different closing thoughts…..

'One day they'll treat me like they do them'

'Where's Harry going?'

(Kings-Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾ , 1st September 2007, 10:55 AM)

"Jeez, do you think the Headmaster might have a slight bias to Gryffindor?" Harry asked nobody in particular as he took in the horrific red and gold monstrosity that was the Hogwarts Express. He, like most other who grew up in the Wizarding world, knew that Albus Dumbledore had been a Gryffindor during his time at Hogwarts, hence most people's desire to join the house of the Lions. It infuriated him to no end whatsoever, that people would try to join a house simply because someone famous went there, or because it was where their parents went.

'We're all different in some way, even when we look like carbon-copies of our parents or siblings. Just like me.' Harry thought to himself before having his attention snatched away from the red and gold coloured steam engine and forced onto his brother.

"Of course he is, it is the best house after all!" Alex proclaimed proudly, earning faint eye roles from Iris, Rosy and their mother, whilst eliciting a roar of approval from James Potter. Harry couldn't help but allow the ever so slight sneer that formed on his to remain in place whilst he replied to his brother's words.

"No house is superior to the others, they all hold equal importance. Just because each house favours different attributes, it doesn't mean that that any one of them is of less importance." Harry replied tersely, earning a slightly shocked look from his elder brother, and an approving smile from the elder females in his family.

"That's right Harry. Don't let the House prejudices cloud your decision making, and certainly don't let it stop you from making friends outside of whatever House you join." Harry's mother said happily, with several cheers of support coming from his sisters and a moan of dissent coming from his elder brother and his father. The youngest male Potter merely shook his head before accepting the small hugs from his parents before boarding the train with his siblings. Normally, Sirius, his wife and Remus would have been there to see them off, but the former was busy with his job (as was his wife) that day and the latter was out of the country, apparently visiting Kyoto in Japan.

Harry quickly parted from his siblings, saying that he didn't want to intrude on their lives and that he wanted to see if he couldn't find children his own age to sit with. He spent several minutes travelling down the train, and couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief when he finally came across and empty carriage compartment. Sliding open the door, the young Potter heir pulled his hefty trunk into the room before closing the door and casting his eyes at the trunk.

Holding out his hand, a small magic circle formed underneath the trunk before a faint white outline encompassed the trunk and the circle faded away, with the actual circle disappearing before its accompanied runic arrays and script. Motioning with his hand, the young man gently levitated the box into the air before finally settling it into the overhead rack

The levitation spell, also known as Wingardium Leviosa, was a very simple spell that fell under into the first year syllabus, along with many other laughably easy spells. Any mage could quickly learn these spells if they applied themselves to it fully enough, hence Harry's ease in using the spell. Of course, it also had a lot, lot more potential roles than just being a means to 'levitate' objects from one location to another, but they were not taught on the curriculum as these 'alternative' uses fell into the territory of 'Defence'.

Sighing to himself, Harry turned his gaze to the window and began to occupy himself with thoughts pertaining to his life at school and what he needed to do in order to succeed, whilst entertaining his sense of sight with the English countryside as it flew past at incredible speeds.

The young man sat there for what seemed like an age, his eyes glazed over as he continued to try and occupy his time until he reached the school. However, the door to his compartment did eventually open, causing the young man to snap out of his daze and turn his attention to the door.

Stood there was a young boy the same age as Harry, with overly-gelled blond hair that seemed to stick to his scalp and a slightly thinner than average build, much like Harry. His skin was as white as fallen snow, and the way in which he carried himself simply screamed 'pureblood'. From the hair alone, Harry would have guessed that the boy had to be related to the Malfoy family somehow, and received conformation when the young man spoke up to him.

"Forgive the intrusion. My name is Draco Malfoy, heir apparent to the Ancient and Most noble house of Malfoy, and I was wondering if you would allow me to sit with you in here, seeing as everywhere else is rather full. And I really don't want to have to cross into another carriage, it's a nightmare with these things." He said, gesturing to the case behind him.

His words were spoken with a strong tone that befitted his status as the heir to an ancient and noble house. Much in the same way that the Devils had the 72 Pillars, most wizarding communities had their own aristocrats, often known as 'Ancient and Noble Houses'. They were often the major powerhouses on the political scene and tended to produce the best mages of the Supernatural world, in the same way Pillar houses produced the strongest Devils, if ancient textbooks were to be believed on the subject. Smiling lightly at the boy, Harry gestured for him to join him whilst offering a verbal response.

"My name is Harry Potter, of the Ancient and Most Noble house of Potter, and I wouldn't mind if you joined me at all, Heir Malfoy." He replied in the same manner as the boy. He hated being so formal and stuck up, but the trouble was in their society that some people may take offence to an unofficial introduction if you knew how to give an official one. It annoyed Harry to no end, but ultimately it was worth it just to avoid the potential fallout of not doing it properly.

The Malfoy heir looked slightly surprised by Harry's comment before he allowed a tiny smirk to grace his features as he repeated the same steps as Harry had upon entering the compartment, whilst also offering more words to his fellow compartment dweller.

"Well now that crap is out of the way, would you mind calling me just Malfoy or even Draco? Heir Malfoy makes me feel like a little bit of an ass."

Harry sat the shocked for several seconds, slightly stunned that a Malfoy of all people would act so casually about addressing him. However, he knew not to paint everybody with the same brush when it came to such matters, and as such decided to reflect briefly on what the boy had said, before deciding that if he wanted to have at least one solid friend before he entered the school, he may as well make an effort to appear friendly towards the young Malfoy.

"Not at all Draco, but only if you call me Harry."

The boy's smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he slumped down into the seat opposite Harry and let out a small sigh of content.

"No problem, Harry."

(A couple of hours later)

"Oh for the love of all that's divine, how the hell do you keep beating me?" An annoyed Draco exclaimed comically as he was once again easily crushed by a smirking Harry in a game of Wizarding chess. The boy had fallen into yet another one of Harry's brilliant traps; the young Malfoy heir had become overconfident when Harry lost his knights, a rook and bishop, and as such had failed to see the danger that Harry's Queen and Pawns were posing his King until it was too late.

Harry let out a chuckle at his companion's exasperation idly noting that whilst the boys did have some talent in strategy, he was nowhere near the level of Harry. The youngest Potter male was about to respond to his friend, but before he could the door to their compartment opened up to reveal a girl of their age. She had a cute face that was most defined by her orange-ish coloured hair and her gorgeous yellow-green eyes. She was wearing a pink jacket and white shirt along with some jeans and ballerina flats, with her large suitcase behind her. Harry managed to keep his face calm, but he couldn't help but let one stray thought cross hid mind as he offered the girl a small smile.

'She's so pretty!'

Unbeknownst to Harry, a tiny blush had made its way onto the girls face at his reaction. However, before either of them could comment on the situation, Draco stepped in and rescued the two eleven year-olds from a cripplingly embarrassing scene.

"Hello there, my name is Draco Malfoy, and that raven haired git ("Oi!") is Harry Potter. Who may you be?" He asked politely but firmly, indicating that he wouldn't be happy until he got an answer. The girl shook her head slightly at his question before allowing a nearly blinding smile to grace her lips as she replied to the young Malfoy's words.

"Of course, please forgive me! My name is Shirley Fennette, and I'm a muggleborn first-year. What about you two, are you muggleborns?" She asked cheerily, earning a slight sweat-drop from Draco and Harry at her sudden change in demeanour.

'Talk about a one-eighty switch.'

"No, we both grew-up in the wizarding world in Ancient and Most noble houses." Harry supplied calmly, causing the girl to freeze up for several seconds, as if she were petrified that she had offended two members of the 'Nobility' of Wizarding Britain. Just as she appeared ready to offer an apology and bolt, Draco cast a levitation spell on her trunk and placed it in the rack above his head.

"Don't think that doesn't mean we won't allow you to sit with us, Miss Fennette. We are all humans after all, so please make yourself comfortable in here." He said with a small smile on his pale lips, causing the girl to smile softly at him before sitting down on the same side of the carriage as Harry.

"Thanks. I got kicked out of my first carriage by the prefects who wanted to use it as a meeting room, and then some people were rude to me when I asked if I could sit with them. They said I couldn't because I was a mud-blood or something like that." She finished the last part hesitantly, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was saying. Harry's eyes narrowed and Draco visibly stiffened at the word. When Shirley asked them what was wrong, the two of them decided to gently explain the insult to the poor young mage, who appeared hurt by the implications of the term. But she soon brushed it off in favour of a small grin that caused the two boys to raise their eyebrows. When the two of them had asked her as to why she was smiling, the girl's smile widened as she replied.

"I'm glad I met nice people to make friends with instead of those people." She said primly, earning a small snort of laughter from Draco and a smile from Harry before the three of them fell into a comfortable discussion about what they thought Hogwarts was going to be like… and all the while Harry couldn't help but think one thing as he glanced at the two other people in his compartment.

'These guys look like they're going to be great friends later on.'

( Hogwarts school of Magecraft, Main Hall, 7:30 PM)

"Bloody hell, do you think they could make this place any bigger if they tried?" Harry heard someone whisper from behind him, and the young man couldn't help but nod slightly in agreement at their words.

The room that the new first-years found themselves in was absolutely gargantuan, stretching some twenty to twenty five meters into the air. The roof had been charmed to represent the night sky outside, revealing the endless expanse of stars and planets to the students, causing many of them to gape at the sheer majesty of the cosmos. Harry idly noted someone explaining the charm to someone else, but he paid it no mind in exchange for continuing his observations of the room. He idly noted that running almost the entire length of the room, positioned equidistant from each-other, were four gorgeous tables made of very heavy oak. These tables were quite tightly packed by a huge number of students, each vying to catch a glimpse of the newcomers in an effort to try and figure out who would go where. In fact, he was almost certain that he saw money changing hands between several of the students, causing his eyebrow to twitch in annoyance slightly.

'Bollocks, I hate missing out on a bet.' He thought to himself in an annoyed tone of thought.

Eventually, he managed to snap himself out of his deep-rooted annoyance and focus back onto the surrounding world. Dangling above the four tables were four very distinctive banners. Running from left to right they the first two were: A snake curled up and ready to attack emblazoned in silver onto a green background, and a Raven sitting on a branch emblazoned in bronze on a blue background. They were the flags of Slytherin and Ravenclaw respectively, whilst the Badger raised onto its hind legs in orange and brown and the Lion roaring to the sky in gold and red were the respective emblems for Hufflepuff and Gryffindor House. Each table was a sea of either silver, blue, brown or red trimmed robes that made Harry's eyes water slightly.

With the exception of Slytherin, the great-hall was awash with a sea of ghastly colours that honestly caused Harry to cringe slightly.

'Whoever designed those bloody uniforms needs to be killed, for the good of all existence.' He thought darkly to himself, before having his attention snatched away from his homicidal thoughts, and instead focused onto the events now transpiring ahead of him.

The old and extremely stern looking woman that had led the first years into the hall strode towards the middle of the raised section of the floor, carrying a rickety old stool and a worn out looking hat. She wore a set of dark green and black robes that one would expect of a 'witch' of her age. Her amber-coloured eyes were hidden behind a pair of circular-lensed glasses whilst her hair seemed to have been drawn into a tight bun atop her head. She stood only stood at roughly 5'6, and yet she managed to maintain an intimidating aura that, had Harry not been exposed to his mother's wrath, would have scared even him.

This was Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts and a well-respected academic figure in the Supernatural world. She was deeply respected by all the elder members of Harry's family as a strict but fair woman who did not play favourites with anyone; unless you believed Harry's father's claims that he was her 'favourite student', even now.

He watched with interest as the Headmistress placed the stool onto the floor before stepping back and placing the battered hat onto the stool. The action caused many of the new students to frown, but before Harry or any of them could begin to question her actions, a faint 'ripping' sound was heard as a tear made itself known near the brim of the hat, whilst the material roughly two-thirds of the way up the of the hat's point bent inwards and became 'eyes'….

And then it started to sing.

"A thousand years or more ago
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favourites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?

Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell you where you belong!"

Harry stood there with wide eyes like the rest of his year group, staring at the hat in utter disbelief as it bowed its point to each of the four houses, which were offering it polite applause. Eventually, once the applause had died down, McGonagall began to speak.

"When I call out your name, please step forwards and sit on the stool, and I will place the sorting hat on your head, which will then determine which House you shall be in.

Abbot, Hannah!"

Harry shook his head quickly enough to catch sight of a young girl quickly yet nervously scampering up to the stool and placing the hat on her head. She was sat there for less than a minute before the hat bellowed out its decision to the rest of the school.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The youngest Potter barely paid the cheering house and the ecstatic girl in favour of focusing his gaze onto the table that rested just beyond the stool, where the school's staff sat.

On the right hand side of the table were sat various teachers who Harry did not bother to pay too much attention to, idly noting the huge presence of Hagrid next to one of the three people he considered worth giving any attention, aside from the Headmaster. He was an absolutely diminutive man, possibly standing even shorter than Harry when on his feet; his long hooked nose and ever so slightly clawed hands, along with is white hair and kind smile easily allowed Harry to identify the man as Filius Flitwick, charms/ enchantments master and teacher at Hogwarts, as well as head of Ravenclaw house. He was apparently a duelling champion is his hay-day, and as such one of a few people Harry considered worth asking about receiving an advanced education in combat.

However, the man was also rather close to his mother, and as such he may say something about her son asking to learn how to fight properly at such a young age, and that was something he could do without. The trouble was that a similar issue was also prevalent with his second choice on the list; Severus Snape.

The man who was often referred to as the 'Bat of Hogwarts Dungeons' was an incredibly pale and tall man, standing at an imposing 6'2. His long hooked nose and beady black eyes provided him with a terrifying aura that caused students to cower in fear rather than submit in respect to him. He was a world-renowned potions master and the head of Slytherin, and was notoriously biased towards his own house, which (according to many people) was why his House had won the 'House cup' two years in a row. He had also acted as a spy for Dumbledore's 'Order of the Phoenix' during the civil war, and was also famous for his aggressive, calculating and ruthless fighting skills that allowed him to fight against foes who possessed far more raw power than he did.

But like with Flitwick, the man was close to his mother (having been a childhood friend of hers) and had somehow managed to become at least cordial with his father, despite their less than friendly teenage years.

Harry was about to focus onto the third and possibly best candidate to speak to in regards to advancing his magical studies, but before he could, he found his attention diverted by the name that McGonagall had just called out.

"Fenette, Shirley!"

The second youngest Potter watched in interest as the girl he had shared the majority of his train-ride with bounced towards the chair with barely contained excitement. Harry had learnt early on in his interactions with the girl that Shirley was a cheerful and generally happy person who seemed capable of banishing a person's foul mood with just her infectious smile and bubbly nature. He had genuinely enjoyed her company on the train, as she was not only a genuinely nice person, but she was also remarkably intelligent and possessed a natural drive to learn things, as emphasised by her detailed questions about Wizarding society not only in Britain but also elsewhere. It made for entertaining conversation, and ensured that Harry would make an effort to speak to her as soon as he was able to.

Smiling to himself, Harry pulled his attention away from his thoughts just in time to hear the hat's decision.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The decision didn't really surprise Harry. Whilst Shirley may have had the intellect and passion for knowledge found amongst even the best of the House of Ravens, her natural kindness and empathy towards others simply trampled all of her other attributes underfoot. And considering her words back on the train, it wouldn't surprise Harry if the girl had one hell of a fierce loyalty streak in her: she simply seemed to be the type.

Clapping politely along with the rest of the school, Harry couldn't help but give the girl a rare small, yet genuine, smile when she settled her gaze on Harry. The girl beamed back and gave him a small wave before sitting down with two girls that were in her year.

Turning his attention away from the young Fennette, Harry found his eyes wondering until he finally came across the third person on his list of candidates that he could potentially snag as a teacher. The man in question appeared to be roughly five or so years younger than his parents, and had a rather plain looking face that was only made memorable by the three large scars that ran down the right-hand-side of his face that had been clearly inflicted by some animal's claws. His head was covered by a turban, but the lack of any form of facial hair whatsoever and the lack of any form of hair coming down the side of his head suggested that the man was bald. His figure was slight yet obviously packed with muscles, as indicated by the tight-fitting dark crimson and purple combat robes and leather armour he wore. His eyes were casually glancing around the room, but Harry could tell that they were actually scanning for any threats to his person. The man was a fighter, as clear as day, and the only person Harry felt he had a reliable chance of learning anything from.

Quirinus Quirrel.

He was a renowned mercenary who had made his name hunting anything and everything for the right price: be they wanted wizards or stray Devils. Nothing seemed to be too tough for the man to fight against. And recently, he had accepted a contract to take over the 'Defence' class at the school, to the welcome surprise of many people.

'And judging on looks alone, I'd say he'd be quite happy to take on somebody as an apprentice.' Harry thought to himself as the man seemed to sigh before diverting his attention away from the crowds and back to the stool, with Harry promptly following his lead. The young Potter made mental notes as several names were called out, filling the information away for future use. Eventually, the name of his second friend was called out by the commanding voice of Professor McGonagall.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

The young Malfoy heir strode towards the sorting hat with an air of calm and a natural grace that was only befitting of a trained nobleman. His method of sitting down was similar, and he even managed to pull the hat onto his over-gelled head with a certain level of dignity. The hat was there for all of twenty seconds before it delivered the announcement that Harry had expected.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Aforementioned House clapped slightly louder than the rest as the young Malfoy heir quickly removed the hat from his head and began striding towards his new housemates, whilst his plain black robe took on a silver trim and his blank emblem space was filled with the serpent of Salazar, much in the same way Shirley's robes had adopted a yellow trim and the badger of Helga. The sorting then continued, with Harry repeating the same process as he had with the group before him, making a mental note of their names and Houses for future reference. Eventually, after several tiresome minutes of waiting, his turn to be sorted finally came about.

"Potter, Harry!"

The moment his name was called out, Harry had to actively fight the urge to snarl at the masses of students on either side of him as he began his advance towards the hat and stool. His irritation stemmed from the various inane and hurtful comments that had stemmed from his relationship with his elder and younger siblings.

"Wait, you don't think he's related to Iris and Rose do you?"

"Of course he is, Potter's a pretty damn exclusive surname in the Wizarding world!"

"I bet he isn't as smart as his sisters, they seemed to have gotten all the brains."

"Duh, that's why they're in Ravenclaw."

"I know."

"Shit, another Potter. I hope he's no good at Quidditch, we could do without another seeker prodigy joining any of the teams, otherwise there won't be a point in having any other positions."

"I didn't even know there was another Potter kid except for Lucy."

Of all the comments that Harry heard, the last one angered him the most. He knew he was invisible to his parents from time to time, but to think that nobody at the school apart from his family seemed to know he existed just pissed him off.

It was bad enough that he was largely overlooked when he was at home, and now he was just being tarred with the same brush his family seemed keen to stick him with, and it was infuriating for the young man.

'I'm my own person, when the hell is anybody going to frickin' realise that and start treating me as Harry Potter, a person in his own right. And not just Harry Potter, elder brother to the girl-who-lived and younger brother of the Potter houses' famous prodigies?' Harry thought to himself with barely restrained anger. His magic was fluctuating slightly, begging for the chance to be put to use and show these people that there was more to Harry than what they thought of him. However, he also realised that it would bring unwanted attention and could land him in deep trouble; so he reigned in his magic….. without noticing three sets of eyes following him with keen interest as he finally reached the stool.

The moment he felt his rear touch the stool, Harry engulfed his eyesight with the brim of the hat. He felt calm and ready. Ready to take on whatever would be necessary to gain entry into one of the four houses. He didn't care if it was a quiz or a test of character, he would prove his true nature and start his journey towards the pinnacle of the Supernatural world ….. no matter what the test was.

'My, my Occlumency shields at such a young age mister Potter? And of such a high quality as well, I must say that you've impressed me quite a bit young man.'

That was until he heard the voice of the hat in his head.

Harry sat there completely stupefied for several seconds, unable to form a coherent thought until he finally managed to respond in a rather similar matter to those who had gone before him.

'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING INSIDE MY HEAD? HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET IN HERE?' Harry mentally screamed, idly noting the thumbs up from his two older sisters and the friendly smile of his older brother. They were obviously teasing him with regards to what was happening, but the young Potter was too focused on the booming laughter of the hat to really pay them too much attention.

'Hahahaha, I must say that I haven't had a response like this in quite some time young Potter; you certainly have picked up that wonderful vocabulary from your father's friends. However, I will just let you know now that I will not reveal any personal secret you may harbour; I am bound by the magic of the founders' themselves to never reveal what I learn. I may make comments about your character out loud, but nothing that could ever compromise what is within you mind.

Each person's mind is sacred in its own right, and I treat it as such.' By the end of the hats mini speech, Harry's breathing had steadied and the hat's tone had switched from jovial to serious, clearly indicating that he was being truthful about the matter. Taking several more calming breaths, Harry relaxed his posture and gently nodded his head.

'Then do what you need to, Hat.'

(With Draco)

"I never realised that there was another Potter."

"Of course there is Tracey; do you even pay attention at official functions?"

"Is that a serious question, Daphne?"

Draco couldn't help but sigh slightly as the two girls opposite him continued to talk in hushed whispers about his newest acquaintance. He was currently paying them little mind as he kept his grey eyes focused on the slight oddity that was Harry Potter. Normally, a person would either grovel at Draco's feet when they found out his surname or they would vilify him because of his startling physical similarity with his father. It annoyed him and saddened him beyond belief. He wanted people to be friends with him because of who he was, not because of what his family name was: and the trouble was that the only people who tended to speak to him cordially were those who wanted to 'get in' with the Malfoy name, and held similar belief's to his father.

The rest simply spurned him because of his father's actions, simply tarring him with the same brush as his father: a mini Death-Eater and blood purist in the making. In truth, he didn't really want anything to do with his father. He was a cold and cruel man who enjoyed causing others pain, and frequently ran off with other women as his mother was not 'satisfying enough'. It made the young Malfoy heir feel so alone and isolated that sometimes he just wanted to scream and let out all the anger…. but the trouble was that nobody would be there to hear out his anguish.

'But now things are looking different.' Draco thought to himself with the faintest of mental smirks. Harry Potter was nothing like he expected him to be: he anticipated a boy who had been taught to keep away from the children of former Death Eaters, and stick to only 'lighter' families or muggleborns for company. Instead, the boy behaved every single part the quintessential aristocrat expected from an ancient and noble house: and when he had found out who Draco was, he had still stayed with him and talked to him like a normal person. It was a refreshing change that Draco was looking forward to expanding upon in the coming weeks and months, especially if the boy didn't believe in House prejudices like some people did.

'Maybe life here won't be so bad after all.'

(With Shirley)

"He's taking a long time, isn't he?"

Turning her head, Shirley was greeted by the slightly confused face of one Susan Bones, a pretty red-head who was the niece of the current Director of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE for short). Shirley cocked an eyebrow lightly at the girl's statement before turning her attention back to her newest friend as he continued to sit on the stool, hat firmly placed around his ears.

"Harry's a diverse guy, I'm not surprised that its taking him this long to be sorted." The young Fennette commented softly, earning slightly shocked looks from those who sat around her.

"Wait, did you ride the train here with him?" Hannah Abbot asked curiously, her blond curly hair glinting ever so slightly in the candle light. Shirley nodded her head before a bright smile appeared on her face as she enthusiastically yet quietly replied to the girls' question.

"I sure did! He's really clever and kind, although he doesn't like to talkmuch. He's a lot like a quieter and smarter version of Draco –"

"Wait, you rode here with a Malfoy?" One of the boys in her year, a slightly ugly and heavy-set looking boy by the name of Ernie Macmillan asked with a small sneer on his face which was supported by several other students from their year and other years. Shirley cocked her head to the side as she replied in a slightly confused tone of voice.

"Well yeah, he and Harry were in the same carriage and –" Her answer was cut off by the troll-like boy laughing at her answer, causing Shirley to frown slightly in anger at how rude he was.

"Yeah right, as if the child of a light-sided family like the Potters would ever associate themselves with a filthy dark family like the Malfoy's." He sneered, earning several chuckles of approval. Shirley's frown grew and she went to reply, but before she could a rather familiar baritone voice cut through the relative silence that had engulfed the Hall.

"Can I help you with something, Minerva?"

(Back with Harry)

Casting his eyes to the side, Harry was slightly surprised to catch sight of a scowling McGonagall staring at the hat as if hoping that the damned thing would catch on fire if she kept glaring hard enough. Eventually, after several slightly awkward seconds, the revered Transfiguration mistress finally broke the silence between herself and the hat.

"It's Professor McGonagall to you, Hat. As for what you can help me with, you can speed up this sorting so that I can get through the rest of the students who have been waiting here for quite some time." She replied sternly, making sure to place extra emphasis on her opening line to the enchanted piece of head-wear. The Hat seemed to shuffle around on Harry's head so that he could face the woman and, if the tone of its voice was anything to go by, glare at the woman quite heatedly.

"I will take as long as I need to, Minerva, even if that is two years." He (if the animated piece of Headwear could be assigned a gender) responded sternly, earning an even more sever look from the Deputy Headmistress of the school.

"This is ridiculous, there's no way that it can have taken you almost the same amount of time to sort this boy as it did Professor Dumbledore."

Harry felt his entire body stiffen at the woman's words. She was supposed to be an educational professional, a person who wanted to see the children under her care become the best they could possibly be. She should have been a person who saw limitless potential in each of her students, and taken a great sense of pride and honour in being allowed to guide those children on their journey to adulthood. And yet here she was, writing him off like everyone else seemed to and just wanting to move onto another child; it was absolutely infuriating.

Harry felt his very blood boil at the woman's words, but before he could lash out with either his sharp vocabulary or his magical power, the Hat sprang to his defence.

"It's not ridiculous when he's a far more interesting individual than Albus. Now quieten down Minerva, before I get someone to make you." That Hat responded sharply, earning an affronted look from the stern teacher and a small peel of laughter from the student body and (rather surprisingly) some of the staff as well. The woman's face turned scarlet before she stomped back over to where she had originally been stood, with her venomous glare never fully leaving the Hat on Harry's head, which had now re-shuffled itself around so that it was facing out into the Great-Hall again. The Hat sat on his head silently for a minute or so, before it began to speak again, this time out-loud so that the rest of the Hall could hear it.

"I've made up my mind mister Potter."

Those words caused the student body to take a collective deep-breath, which the Hat allowed for before it began to speak to Harry within his mind again, filling it with its powerful and commanding voice once more.

'Loyalty is important to you, is it not? To you, loyalty to friends is not something that is given out easily, but once established it is more fierce and protective than anyone could comprehend, and yet it is not what defines you Mister Potter.'

The Hall collectively shrugged its shoulders at the Hat's words, it made at least one comment like this a sorting. And as such, they continued to wait for the Hat's verdict.

'There is a deep sense of courage in you; it thrums through your very soul and has given you the edge you have needed so many times in the past. It is the trait which steels your nerves and calms your mind, and allows you to bring your very best to the field.

But that is not what defines you, Mister Potter.

Nor is it your intellect that defines you. You are absolutely brilliant, there is no doubt about that, Mister Potter and nobody can take that away from you. You have a fierce hunger for knowledge that even Rowena herself would have been hard pressed to satiate it with answers.

And yet this is still not what truly defines you as a person, is it Mister Potter?

No, what drive you is far more important to you than anything else. It is something that only a few people in this room will truly understand, isn't it? It's a never-ending hunger that only Albus and Quirinus would be able to understand fully, because they have that same hunger in their hearts.

It's the hunger to be the best.

A never ending ambition to overcome every challenge set in your path, so that you can climb the mountain that is the Supernatural world and reach its summit….. and then ascend beyond its scope. Past the realm of normal Mages and Devils, Angels and their Fallen brethren. Into the domain where all but monsters fear to tread, a world where power and strength defines you, and the legacy you leave behind.

Your determination to do whatever is necessary will serve you well in your endeavours Mister Potter, as you stride towards your glorious goal. It will be the iron fist with which you crush all opposition, and leave it in your wake as you continue your march. Your cunning will be your shield, protecting you from harm and allowing you to strike forth against your foes and dispense of them as you march on….

But your hunger, your ambition, is what makes you who you are. It is what defines you as a person. For many it is a simplistic urge that aids them on a day to day basis, but your ambition is what makes you who you are, it is the source and essence of your very being.

It is the source of the loyalty you devote wholly and fully to those you trust your life to.

It is the source of the courage that tempers your will into steel, to do what you must.

It is the source of the intellect that will allow you to navigate this difficult path you have chosen.

I expect nothing less than success from you, Mister Potter. I look forward to the day when you stand atop the world and your path complete. And now I shall set you on your way, and I look forward to seeing you start your legacy here at this school, in….'

"SLYTHERIN!"

The moment the word left the Hat's mouth, the entirety of the Great Hall fell silent. Those who knew the history of Wizarding Britain because of shock, and those who did not because they quickly understood that this must have been a big deal.

And it was.

No Potter had ever been sorted into Slytherin before. It was simply unheard of. They were always in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, with the odd exception entering the house of Badgers ever few generations. For a Potter to end up in Slytherin, they must have truly been different from the rest of their family: and given the reputation of the house of Snakes over the past twenty years or so, his inclusion into the house was naturally going to draw him a lot of negative attention.

Harry, for his part, couldn't help but feel an odd sense of calm wash over his soul as he strode towards his new housemates having removed the hat, idly noting a faint but consistent level of applause breaking out across the Hall. The Slytherin students were mostly looking at him with an appraising look, as if evaluating his worth to their house, whilst some members looked at him with disgusted sneers. The majority of those who were sneering were the children of 'suspected' former Death Eaters who had managed to claim that they were compelled to serve Voldemort under the 'Imperious Curse' (a forbidden mind-based spell that was labelled as one of many 'dark' spells that were banned by the Ministry of Magic). It was all a load of rubbish, of course, and they had been rather willing followers of the last Dark Lord. But it also happened to be that they were also very wealthy, and as such able to bribe their way out any charges levelled against them.

Harry knew that the majority of Slytherin's were in their house because of their ambition and cunning, not because they were evil. However, because of the actions of the few, Slytherin had been labelled as the 'dark' House. It was stupid, but Harry knew that not everyone was as open minded and thoughtful as he was, and as such, he had somewhat managed to temper his expectations with regards to the nature of the student body at Hogwarts.

And yet he couldn't help but feel at home as he made his way towards them. The hat's words still resonated with Harry's very soul; he wanted to be the best. And only Slytherin would give him the chance to become that. It was the only house that would allow him to truly strive for greatness and become the man that he was supposed to be.

'But enough about the future Harry, focus on the now.'

Spotting Draco sat amongst a throng of first-years, the youngest Potter male quickly made his way towards his newest acquaintance and sat down comfortably next to him, earning a small nod of welcome from the pale-skinned Malfoy heir. Harry reciprocated the nod lightly before turning his attention back to the rest of the sorting ceremony. The rest was just as tedious as the majority of it, and Harry allowed his thoughts to drift away quite comfortably, only returning his focus to pick out little bits of information from the Headmaster's opening speech.

'Forbidden forest is forbidden; better see why.'

'Third floor corridor on the left hand side of the stairs is out of bounds: that's gonna be fun to explore later on.'

Filling away the information for later, the youngest Potter male turned his attention fully onto the Headmaster as he finally said the words that he had been waiting for since lunch-time.

"All I have left to say is: tuck in."

(Three quarters of an hour later, Slytherin House Common Room)

"You are all now members of the house of Snakes. Despite what most people may think of us, this house is closer-knit than any of the others at this school. I expect you to watch each-others backs at all times, and to present a genuinely united front to the rest of the school. If you have any disputes, try to settle them within the confines of the Slytherin dormitories.

But if anyone is behaving in a manner that is unfitting of our House and you must step in, I expect you to show them the….. error of their ways.

Also, I expect that you all will break the rules at some point: I take no issue with this. You are children, after all. However what I do expect from you is that if I am not present to cover for you, is that you do not get caught. Our House is on course for holding onto the House cup for a third year in a row, an all-time record. As such, we cannot afford to lose silly points because you were not smart enough to carry out your plans.

There are plenty of other rules that you need to be aware of, but they can be found on your desks in your dormitories, now pay attention whilst I read out who each of you shall be sharing a room with."

Snape's voice was quiet, like the whispers of a ghost on a summer's breeze, and yet it somehow managed to fill Slytherin's common-room. It was a weird yet also unsurprising, given the man's presence. Harry had met him on a few occasions, and he honestly felt indifferent towards the man. Hopefully the year would help give some perspective on the man's character, if only so that the youngest Potter could actually have an opinion on him.

Harry tuned him out as he began to read out the list of females students and who they would be rooming with, in favour of examining the common-room in which a great deal of his time would be spent over the coming years.

The room itself was much larger than Harry had anticipated, with a large bookcase dominating the majority of the western wall. The northern wall was defined by two snaking passages that lead to the student's dormitories; left for girls and right for the boys. The majority of the rest of the room was taken up by tasteful black and dark brown furniture that was often laden with a silver or green edge that suited the piece. In the eastern wall was a small alcove, where statue of a snake sat with its fangs bared and its head reared back to strike its prey. Its stone eyes seemed to keep a vigil over the common room, as if daring anyone to betray the values of Slytherin.

If he were honest, Harry had expected the room to be rather dank and dingy, considering that the Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons. However, he had turned out to be (rather pleasantly) wrong about the whole affair, and as such he was expecting the dorms to be of a similar quality. Shaking his head slightly, Harry tuned back into his head of houses' speech just as he came to Harry's name on the list.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

'Well, well, well. What are the chances of that, huh?' Harry thought to himself in mild surprise. He was happy that he was to be sharing with Draco, but he did honestly expect to be stuck with one of the other boys in his year, such as Zabini. However he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tuning out again until Snape had finished, Harry only re-focused his mind when the man had finished the list and had given out his final order for the evening.

"Now that that's out of the way, I've asked the upper years to stay away from the common room this evening so that you may use it for an hour or so to get to know one-another a little better. After all, you are going to spend seven years together as a group, so you may as well learn about each-other, if only so you don't aggravate one-another on a daily basis." He finished in a drawl before spinning on his heel and marching past the group of first years with his cape bellowing behind him and out of the room.

After several tense moments of inactivity, the elven year olds quickly broke apart to find their various roommates. It took Harry all of two seconds to identify the overly-gelled scalp of the young Malfoy scion, and as such Harry quickly made his way over to the boy, who seemed to be in conversation with a troll-looking girl with brown curly hair. Draco had a polite smile plastered onto his face, but Harry could tell his was practically dying to get away from the girl. So it was with a sense of confidence that Harry quickly intruded on the conversation, using his knowledge of the girl's name to begin his 'rescue operation'.

"Excuse me, Miss Bulstrode but I need to borrow Malfoy quickly so that we can quickly work out how on Earth we're going to live with one another for the coming year." Harry intoned dryly, earning a grateful look from Draco and a slightly annoyed one from the troll-like girl stood opposite him. She looked like she wanted to say something, but before her cracked lips could even part to allow a single sound to escape, Draco had grabbed Harry by the arm and had started to drag him towards the door that would lead them to their dorms.

"Potter's right, Bullstrode. I'll talk to you later, but unfortunately business has to come first~!" He spluttered out hastily whilst firmly grabbing hold of Harry's arm. The young Malfoy then proceeded to virtually sprint from the doorway until he finally stopped in-front of a heavy oak door with a small name plate on it that caused Harry to smile lightly.

H. Potter & D. Malfoy – 1st Years.

The writing was gorgeous and neat and currently stencilled into a thick brass plate that had been bolted onto the door. The design all looked ancient, and yet it still looked as fresh and high-quality as when it was first installed. Turning his gaze from the door, Harry watched as Draco quickly grabbed a hold of the handle and opened it up, revealing a rather lavish room.

Two ornate four-poster beds rested in opposite corners of the room, with two bedside tables made of a dark mahogany on either side of the bed. The curtains were of a gorgeous green, the same as the duvet, that provided the room with a classy feel that Harry couldn't help but appreciate slightly. A single table was in the middle of the main room, providing the two students a shared working space where they would be able to study together if they wished to.

Also, near the beds were not only two dressers with mirrors but also doors which obviously led to two en-suite bathrooms. And in-between the two beds in the wall was a large window, some two meters across. It had a small seat that would allow a person to sit there and enjoy the gorgeous view of Hogwarts grounds that it undoubtedly gave, although all either of them could see out of it at the moment was the endless expanse of the night sky, with each of the stars twinkling gently in the distance.

Sighing to himself, Harry walked over to his trunk, which had been placed on the left hand side of the room, whilst Draco moved to the right, and the pair began unpacking their things. The two continued their menial task until Draco finally decided to break their agreeable silence.

"Thanks for that back there, Bullstrode is more troll than human and doesn't seem to understand when I'm telling her to get lost." He said in a genuinely thankful tone, earning a small chuckle out of Harry.

"Well as long as you return the favour one day…."

"Oh don't worry, I've got your back on that front."

"But what about in general, Draco?"

That question caused the young Malfoy to stop what he was doing and let out a small sigh. He stood there silently for a small while before he finally decided to answer his roommate with what appeared to be a wholly genuine answer.

"This is a Viper's nest down here. Most of the kids are like us; they're here because they are cunning and ambitious. However there are other kids who are here because of their belief of blood superiority, and they tend to rule things as they often have the most power both politically and physically.

Which is why we need to stick together. Together us, plus anyone else we can eventually put our trust in are going to be our best means of ensuring that we have a good seven years. Who knows? Maybe we'll even clear up the Houses' public image whilst we're at it." Draco responded seriously, earning a neutral look from Harry, who had anticipated this response, and had also detected that the boy hadn't given him his full reasoning.

'And that's because it's correct. We need to stay together down here and scrounge up as many allies and friends as we possibly can down here, otherwise we're going to be in the shit if things kick off. I know he's got something else to say, but there's no point in forcing the issue. We need to stay united.' Harry thought to himself before he responded to the Malfoy scion.

"Good to see that we're on the same page, Draco. I know we may not exactly be friends yet, but allied acquaintances is a great place to start. If you cover my weaknesses then I'll cover yours.

And who knows, maybe we will live to see the light of day in our seventh year." Harry replied darkly, earning a healthy chuckle from Draco as he continued to pack his things away, although Harry could tell that the friends comment stuck a nerve somewhat with the boy, if the indecipherable look in his eyes was anything to go by.

'Worth thinking about for later on.'

Eventually, the two pre-teens finished unloading their luggage, and committed themselves for a journey back to the common room, despite their desire to leave any further socializing for the next day.

The two of them strode in whilst there was only three other people present. The first of which was a young yet cheery girl by the name of Tracey Davis who had brown hair and had forsaken her robes for simply wearing the uniform underneath. Opposite her on another sofa was a very tanned and black-haired boy by the name of Blaise Zabini, the youngest child of three and the male heir to the infamously 'grey' Zabini family. His face bared all the hallmarks of a future aristocrat, as did the calm and composed demeanour he projected.

However, it was the last person who truly caught Harry's attention.

She was sat next to Tracey and like said girl and his friend from the Train, Shirley, he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was. With her perfect nose, high cheek-bones, ice-blue eyes and seemingly porcelain-like skin, it was easy to see that the girl would grow up to be a true beauty as the years passed. Her hair was like a golden waterfall given the way that it cascaded down her back, and her small yet naturally red lips were curled into a casual yet lazy smirk. After several seconds, the girl's head nodded in greeting to Harry, who naturally nodded in response before moving along with Draco to join their already assembled house-mates.

They joined the group and integrated themselves into their comfortable silence expertly. They all seemed to clearly think the same thing, in that exchanging names now would be pointless seeing as they would be introducing themselves shortly anyways. Over the following few minutes, the rest of their year mates would trickle in, each understanding that the principle that the others had already established and following it dutifully.

Eventually, everyone but three people had reached the room. The Davis girl went to say something, but before she could, a grating and annoying voice filled the silence that caused Harry's eyebrow to twitch in annoyance.

"Good to see you all know to wait for your better, I suppose. Now let's get this over with so that I can get to sleep."

The boy who spoke was the very definition of the type of person that Harry hated; a little ponce who had been handed everything in his life, and believed that just because daddy had a little bit of money, it made him the most important person in the world. What Harry hated so much about these kinds of people was how lazy they all were: they didn't train or work hard because they didn't think they needed to, because they were who they were, and because to them that was 'enough'.

It infuriated Harry beyond reckoning, and he could already tell that he was not going to get along with the sickly looking, black haired Theodore Nott as he strolled into the room like he owned it, with two lumbering gorillas (sorry, students) following ominously behind him.

The Greengrass heiress seemed to roll her eyes at him, the same as Harry. They both noticed each-others actions and couldn't help but smirk lightly at each-others actions with a single message passing between their gazes.

What an arsehole, right?

The boy continued his stroll until he finally reached the assembled group. Harry idly noticed that Zabini, Davis and Greengrass were all giving the boy looks of distain whilst a pug-like girl called Pansy Parkinson and the troll-like Bullstrode stared at him like he was god's gift to the world. He stood there for several seconds before he fixed his brown eyes on Harry's own exotic violet ones….. and stared.

And stared.

And stared.

"Can I help you?"

Harry's words were spoken with faux sincerity, something which caused the Davis heiress to smile at and the Zabini heir to smirk at briefly. Nott's beady eyes narrowed at Harry's words whilst his foot began tapping.

"I'm waiting." He said in a neutral tone with a small, cocky smirk playing on his lips. Harry knew immediately that Nott expected him to move so that he could sit down. He could have just told the arrogant ponce to get lost, but he decided that winding him up would be a far more entertaining in the long run. So, fixing a slightly confused look on his face, Harry replied to the purebloods statement.

"For us to start? How do you think we felt, waiting for you to get down here?" He asked innocently, causing Davis's smile to turn into a small grin and Zabini's smirk to remain fixed in place. Meanwhile, Nott's eyes narrowed considerably as he fixed his now rage-filled glare at the youngest Potter male, whilst his voice took on a slightly more aggressive tone.

"For you to get up so that I can sit down."

"Should've gotten down here sooner. Just get Tweedledum and Tweedledee there to bring you over a sofa if your legs are so weak that you can't stand for five minutes. I mean, the only possible reason you keep them around is to make up for your own lack of manual skills." Harry replied in a completely disinterested fashion, causing Nott to grit his teeth in anger at the boy's statement. It was obvious that he was about to say something again to Harry, but before he could, he seemed to regain control of his emotions and re-affixed his cocky smirk onto his lips.

Clicking his fingers, the two gorilla-like boys at his side quickly marched away and grabbed the nearest sofa and, with an impressive show of strength for two eleven year old boys, picked up the aforementioned piece of furniture and placed it behind Nott, who immediately sat himself down onto the sofa, his smirk growing in arrogance as he seemed to assume he had impressed Harry, who had stayed silent….

Only to realise that the Potter heir was paying him no attention and was instead reading a book.

The look of shock and anger on Nott's face caused Tracey and Blaise to break down into small fits of laughter, whilst eliciting a smile from the stoic Greengrass heiress. Draco was smiling to himself and desperately trying to hide his grin, but it was obvious to everyone that the Malfoy heir was greatly amused by his newest acquaintances' actions, offspring of his father's enemy or not.

Eventually, the amusement in the group died down and Nott managed to re-compose himself again, and the newest cohort of Slytherin house sat there, unsure as to how they should proceeded following the somewhat…. dividing first few moments. Eventually, after several moments of awkward silence, a certain brunette Davis child decided to break the tense atmosphere and get the ball rolling.

"Okay, well seeing as we're not all familiar with one another and it's pretty late, I say we keep this brief. How about just saying our names, likes and dislikes and then what our plans or dreams are for the future?" She asked brightly, unaware that in a Ninja village countless parallel universes away a white haired, scarecrow looking man had sneezed loudly just before he greeted the team he was to mentor, thanks to her words.

Everyone looked around the room quickly, as if trying to find anyone who was against the proposed idea. When no opposition was forthcoming, Tracey smiled brightly before clapping her hands together and speaking up again.

"Well in that case, I guess I'll go first, and then we can go clockwise from me.

My name is Tracey Davis. I like reading and talking with my friends. I dislike arrogant people and pumpkin juice. One day, I would like to create my own chain of bookstores and make it the largest in the wizarding world!" Her voice was chipper for the entire time, and yet Harry couldn't help but mentally smirk at the wise game the girl had played. She hadn't told anyone anything that could compromise her abilities or reveal any weaknesses that she had, and yet had still done what the exercise asked of her. It was a true testament to her status in the house of Snakes.

Harry watched as the girl gestured to the blond-haired girl beside her, who let out a small sigh before she began speaking.

"My name is Daphne Greengrass. I like to practice potions and read about medical magic theory. My dislikes are the same as Tracy's. When I'm older, I plan on becoming the best Medi-witch alive." She said neutrally, earning a smile from Tracy and nods of acceptance from everyone else. Bulstrode and Parkinson were next, and they both proved to be rather uninteresting and boring characters who couldn't help but somehow reference Nott in what they were saying.

It actually made Harry feel slightly ill to listen to and watch.

Eventually came Nott, who couldn't help but stand up and adopt a rather condescending tone of voice that grated on Harry's nerves quite badly.

"You should all know my name by now, but if not; it is Theodore Nott, heir to the ancient family of Nott. I like buying the newest Quidditch gear and clothes, and I hate poor people and mud-bloods. In the future, I plan to take my father's Wizenmangot seat and help protect the purity of our kind's blood."

The entire thing made Harry feel sick to his core. He was an arse at times, but this kid was the definition of outright disgusting. How anyone could think that what he had said was in any way, shape or form acceptable in modern society was beyond him. Blood purity was just what bigoted nobles used to try and hold onto their power in an ever-changing world. But mages, like the Devils, had to accept that it no-longer mattered in comparison to the survival of a people: hence the relaxation of the marriage laws for wizards and the creation of the 'Evil Piece' system for Devils.

'Ignorant fool, I swear to god it should be illegal for morons like his father to have children in the first place, so that there's no danger of our population's IQ being damaged.' Harry thought to himself venomously. Nott was the kind of person that Harry absolutely despised; arrogant and dismissive of those he didn't consider 'pure', meaning that he was the type of person who would look down on and 'forget' Harry…

And that pissed him off.

So staying quiet through Draco's brief monologue in which he revealed a desire to become a professional Quidditch player later on in life, Harry quickly planned out what he had to say. Eventually, the Malfoy heir finished speaking, and the attention of the group zeroed in on the last member of the group.

"And last but not least we have…."

"Harry Potter. I like learning new offensive spells and practicing my unarmed combat style. I dislike people who have everything given to them and that are arrogant. In the future, I will surpass Albus Dumbledore and become the strongest wizard alive, or die trying."

The first few things he had mentioned were entirely accurate; he loved learning new spells that would allow him to destroy his impending foes. Sure, he omitted his affinity for illusion magic, but he knew it was best to keep that little chestnut under wraps for as long as he physically could. He mentioned his dislikes to open up a form of communication with Greengrass and Davis: if they had something in common, then it may be enough to stop them from trying anything against each-other, if only so that Nott would feel more isolated.

But the last part of his speech…

Well it was true, but the simple fact of the matter was that it was only half the truth. Sure, he wanted to get stronger than Dumbledore was…but his reasons for doing so were going to stay his own.

'For now, at least.'

Tracy went to say something, obviously in an attempt to round everything off and finish the evening on a high note, but before she could so much as utter a syllable, Nott's aggravating voice permeated the air, tainting the sweet silence with his own vile tone.

"What a surprise, the half-blood wants to fight like a muggle. I suppose we can't expect anything else out of such a disgrace." The boy sneered, earning narrowed eyes from Harry as he rose from his seat to meet the boy on his feet. Harry smirked ever so slightly at Nott's words before he responded to him.

"Pray tell, Theodore, how I am a disgrace. Because as far as I can see, you're the only disgrace to Mage kind in this room." He responded neutrally, earning narrowed eyes from the son of a Death-Eater. Nott slowly began closing the distance between the two of them, all the while allowing his putrid voice to defile the air between them.

"Oh really? Well I was born with smarts and talent, whilst you weren't. I mean, it's obvious that all of the good attributes went to your siblings, otherwise a Potter wouldn't be in Slytherin. All you have left is your ability to lie and blag, and the silver tongue to lie to the rest of the world that you're something special, when we all know you're really not.

In truth, I look forward to seeing you die trying to accomplish your dream. If you were like me then you may have had a chance at becoming something special, but you're just the forgotten spawn of a blood-traitor and a mud-blood.

To be honest, I'll be surprised if I remember an insignificant insect like you unt –"

WHACK!

Before he could finish his speech, Theodore was sent sprawling to the floor in a shower of blood as Harry smacked him across the cheeks with a silver candlestick holder that was on the table in the middle of the space between sofas. The blow had broken his target's cheekbone and nose if the pained scream, cut and bloodied nose were anything to go bye.

Normally, Harry was a calm and logical individual; but Nott had unconsciously pushed all the wrong buttons this evening. He could tolerate his intellect and ability being questioned, he could tolerate his dreams being mocked and his parents insulted. They annoyed him, but not enough to elicit a response from him; that was caused by Nott threatening to forget him and telling him he was insignificant. He'd had enough of being forgotten by his parents and siblings; Hogwarts was supposed to be his fresh start from all of that nonsense.

But here was Nott, trying to annoy or belittle Harry with his words… and all it has succeeded in doing was pissing Harry off.

The moment Nott hit the floor, his two gorillas (sorry, guards, sorry, fellow students) sprang into action. The first to get near to Harry was Crabbe, the slightly shorter and fatter of the two (not that it was really noticeable unless one actually paid attention to them). He swung one of his gargantuan paws at Harry, clearly hoping to hit the young Potter and pay him back for hurting his boss. However, unlike Harry, Crabbe had almost no competence in unarmed fighting what-so-ever it seemed, aside from some very basic practice with throwing common punches. It was clear that the brute of a child relied on using his pure physical attributes to make up for any lack of technique. Against any other person in the room, that would have been enough for him to crush them in a fist-fight….

But Harry was not every other person.

Waiting until the last possible moment, Harry snaked underneath the blow with considerable grace for someone without any formal training in close-combat. Then with the speed of a viper, the young man used his leg and arm muscles to stand back up and swing the candlestick in an upwards motion at Crabbe's chin. The result was a satisfying crack that indicated something had been at least chipped and if not outright broken.

The giant of a child was sent tumbling to the floor, causing the room to seemingly shake slightly as his frame settled onto the floor after being pole-axed. Harry shifted his grip on the candle-stick, but before it could settle fully, the second monstrously huge elven-year-old charged at him. The youngest Potter male could barely let out a surprised gasp as the air was driven from his lungs and the candlestick from his grasp by Goyle's shoulder, which was currently planted firmly in his stomach. The behemoth of an eleven-year-old kept charging forwards, carrying Harry with him until they finally reached the opposing wall, some five or so meters away.

Harry grit his teeth in pain as his back was driven into the cold stone of the common-room's wall. The moment his wits were back under control, Harry brought both his hands above his head and began to bring them down mercilessly on Goyle's back. However, Harry was forced to grudgingly admit that this half of the ugly duo was far harder than his companion, as his blows seemed to barely pass as an annoyance for the gorilla like child as he tried to un-trap his arms from behind Harry so that he could actually start to punch the youngest Potter male. Casting his violet eyes back to where they had started, Harry was forced to bite back a curse as he realised that Nott was slowly getting to his feet, with magic slowly begin to seep into his system, if Harry's senses were to be trusted.

'I need to get out of here now!' Harry thought to himself with the smallest dregs of fear creeping into his mind. Fortunately, the youngest male Potter managed to force the icy embrace of fear from his mind, enabling him to think clearly and logically, which were the only two things that were going to get him out of this situation.

Quickly casting his eyes around, Harry realised that Goyle had spread his legs rather wide, in an effort to provide himself with more leverage in removing his arms….. leaving him rather exposed to certain attacks.

'There's my distraction, but what can I use to knock this git out with?' Harry reasoned, knowing full-well that without reinforcement magic flowing through his veins, it would be impossible for him to take out Goyle without a weapon. So casting his eyes back around his local surroundings, Harry was quick to recognize the marble overhang of the fireplace that was opposite where the group had originally been sat. Casting his gaze down, Harry let out a mental cry of relief as he caught site of a metal fire-tender which was hanging nearby along with other fireplace tending equipment. Quite why such equipment was needed in a magical castle, Harry didn't know, but he was not about to question his stroke of good luck based on the grounds of practicality and logic right now.

Swinging his leg back, Harry swung it forwards again with as much force as he could muster. Unlike his punches, which had been all but ignored by the giant troll child, Harry's kick certainly activated Goyle's pain receptors. The blow caused the boy to let out a shriek of agony that was certainly two or three notes higher than a male (even at their age) could reach.

Pushing all the strength he could into his arms, Harry managed to force the mutant boy away from his body by several feet. The moment he had the space necessary, Harry had grabbed hold of the fire-tender, and brought it around in a vicious semi-circle that sent the troll-boy into the bliss of unconsciousness, albeit in a splatter of blood and the start of one-hell of a headache for when he woke up.

Harry smirked to himself, and was just about to celebrate his victory, but before he could, his sense screamed at him to dive to the left. Acting on instinct, the young Potter heir was rewarded for his action by avoiding a bright-blue bolt of lightning that would have otherwise smashed into him. The bolt smashed into the wall behind Harry, causing a small blast-mark and smoke to form where the attack had hit. Turning his narrowed gaze back towards the group of chair's, Harry was not surprised to see Nott standing there, nose dripping with blood and the cut on his cheek flowing with blood and a small magic circle in-front of his left hand.

It was a basic spell, sure, but it would still hurt like hell for someone of Harry's age if he were hit with it.

Realizing that he wouldn't have enough time to summon up a shield to defend himself or charge an attack which would hit Nott, Harry found himself improvising in order to ensure that Nott didn't emerge from this victorious. Rearing back his right hand, Harry launched the fire-tender in his hand at Nott, hoping to at least distract the boy so that he could charge up his own attack.

However, it appeared that Lady Luck was firmly in Harry's camp this day, as the spinning piece of blackened iron crashed into the hand that Theodore was using to charge his attack, causing him to abandon the spell in favour of a wail of agony as his fingers were broken by the piece of metal bending them all the way back so that his nails touched the back of his hand.

The moment Nott crashed to the floor, Harry set about finishing the fight by calling upon his own magic.

For Harry, it was like tapping into an ocean. His magical reserves had always been far greater than any of his siblings at his age, if his parent's occasional words of praise were to be believed, and as such control had been a problem for him when he had first started out. However, he had worked (and continued to work) hard at his control, and as such Harry sound found himself easily able to access his magic and use the amount he wanted or needed, and not simply the amount that poured from his reserves when he tapped into them. Of course he still had a long way to go, but for an eleven year-old, his control was as close to 'masterful' as it could be at his age.

The moment he had the energy he needed, a small blue magical circle flicker to existence in-front of his left hand. A small lightning bolt was in the centre, denoting it as a spell linked to that particular 'element'. The moment the circle was complete, Harry took aim at his fellow first year and poured some of his magic into the seal.

The moment he did so, a bolt of lightning twice the size of the one Nott fired came flying back at the pure-blood ponce, smacking him square in the chest and sending him to the floor, hair on end and muscles spasaming as they tried to cope with the sudden influx of electricity into his nerves. The moment he stopped moving, Harry began to stalk towards Nott, raising his magical seal in a threatening manner in order to ward off the rising figures of Parkinson and Bullstrode, who shrank back into their seats upon realising they had been made.

"You know, I would've just ignored your ignorant and foolish ramblings, Nott, if you had just kept insulting my family or my intelligence." Harry commented calmly, as if having a normal conversation with the downed boy as he continued to stalk towards him, magical power flaring slightly as he maintained the pace of his advance.

"But you just had to try and belittle me, didn't you? You had to try and make out that I was never going to be anything special, and that I'd be forgotten. And guess what Nott? That pisses me off.

A lot.

So the next time you want to have a shit-flinging contest, I suggest you stick to insulting my parents or elder siblings, or anything else about me. But if you try to even suggest that I'll be forgotten or that I'm not going to amount to anything… well let's just say that you don't really want to find out what'll happen to you.

Are we clear?"

Harry finished his mini speech by placing one foot firmly on Nott's chest, eliciting a pained groan from the young man as he tried to respond to Harry's cold and callous words. However, before the Nott heir could answer, an all too familiar voice broke through the silence that had enveloped the room.

"Care to explain what happened here, Mister Potter?"

A/N:

And there we have it ladies and gentlemen, the first chapter of 'Code DxD Potter', and the single longest chapter that I have ever written.

I know we went through a lot of stuff in just the first chapter, but like I said at the start, I want to race through years one, two, three, and four so that I can get those done and then move onto my own personally created arc and then DxD canon. Don't worry, plenty of characters from the Code Geass and DxD shall appear before the start of then and play very important roles, but they won't make an appearance until at least the end of this year, which shall be either next chapter or the chapter after, depending on the answer you all give to the following question.

What did you guys think of the length of the chapter?

Was it too long, just right or do you think it could have been a little longer? I'd like to know because I plan to update this story every four days if you all decide that you like chapters that are roughly 20,000 words, or once every two days if you guys want the chapters kept at 8-10,000 words. It makes no difference to me at all, I'd just like to hear your thoughts on the subject.

Any ways, I like to hear what you all think of the story thus far. It's (hopefully, if it's liked) going to be a VERY long and emotional journey, filled with plot-twists and shocks that will keep you entertained as we follow our Hero through the highs of victory and the gutters of defeat, depression and soul-destroying loss.

Code DxD Potter has been initiated.

And now its life is in your hands.

Tell me what you thought about the first chapter with a review: what you liked and what you disliked, what needs changing and what can stay the same. I always love to hear your thoughts, no matter how critical or kind: it's what gives me the drive to improve and the satisfaction of knowing that I've done a job well.

Also, make sure that you stay up-to-date with Code DxD Potter by dropping a favourite or a follow (or maybe even both) so that you never miss a single step of this journey.

But for now, that's enough outta me.

Peace folks,

MetalGearMantis.