Chapter 4: Hogwarts

Harry handed Horatio a Chocolate Frog.  "They're not alive," he said, when it jumped out of Horatio's hand.  "It's just a spell.  They've only got about one good jump in them, then you can eat them.  What you really want are the cards that come with them.  They have pictures of famous wizards on them.

"Is there a card for Vold -- uh -- the Dark Lord?" asked Horatio.

"No," said Harry, "dark wizards aren't included." 

Harry shivered.  He would speak Voldemort's name, but he couldn't imagine having a card with him on it.  If people couldn't even speak his name, how could they look at his picture?  Besides, what would the picture look like?  Voldemort's appearance had changed each time he had been destroyed, then reincarnated.  When he had been Khurban -- because Khurban had been part Harry Potter -- he had resembled his father.

In any case, no one had a picture of Voldemort.  There were pictures of Tom Riddle, the boy he'd been, but there were no pictures of the Lord Voldemort he had become.  It was frightening to think that his father and Voldemort had occupied the same body, and had almost killed both him and his mother. 

His parents hadn't told him the story, until he'd heard parts of it from others; then they had, so he'd have it straight.  His father had insisted that Harry, Jr.'s mother had saved them all with her love.

Harry didn't really understand.  How could love be stronger than magic?

"Look," said Horatio, pulling out the card from his Chocolate Frog, "it says Harry Potter.  Is this your father?" he asked, showing the card to Harry.

"Yes," said Harry, "there's lots of cards of him, probably more of him than even Dumbledore, although if you count the cards of the old Dumbledore and the new Dumbledore, he may have more cards than my dad."

"The old and new Dumbledore?" 

"Remember," said Harry, "I told you Dumbledore died, then was reborn into a new body.  The new Dumbledore's body isn't much older than you or I, but it's aged much faster.  He probably looks about fifty now in the new cards, but he looked about a hundred in the old cards.  He still has a long beard, but he has some brown in it.  He didn't on the old card.  His hair and beard were white.

"He's aged that fast?" asked Horatio.

"Yes," said Harry, "he looks older than he did the first time I can remember seeing him, but I don't think he's aging so quickly now.  At least, that's what I heard my grandmum say."

"I thought you said HE killed your grandparents."

"Oh, that was my Potter grandparents, my dad's mum and dad.  I'm talking about my mum's mum."

"And she's a wizard, too?"

"Well," said Harry, "technically, a witch, since she's a woman, but it's all the same.  I'm a pureblood."

"What's that?" asked Horatio.

"That means both my parents were wizards."

"What am I then?" asked Horatio.

"You're Muggle-born," said Harry.

About that time, two boys stopped by their compartment.  "We're checking off names," one of them said,   They were both older than Harry and Horatio.  One was holding a pad.  A quill was floating in the air, poised above it.  When Harry said, "I'm Harry Potter," it scanned down the list then made a check mark when it found his name.

"You're Harry Potter?" asked the other, raising one eyebrow.

"Not the Harry Potter," said Harry, "I'm his son."

"I KNOW you're not the Harry Potter," replied the boy, in a most unpleasant manner.  "I'm not that stupid."

Both boys were wearing robes.  The one holding the pad had blond hair and blue eyes, the other brown hair and hazel eyes.  The blond haired boy was the shorter of the two, but they both looked about the same age.  Neither was smiling.  Both seemed angry.  Harry hoped he hadn't started out on the wrong foot. 

"You'll be in Griffindor, I suppose," said the boy holding the pad.

"Yes," said Harry, certain that he would.

"Good," said the boy, smiling for the first time.

"And what's your name?" asked the other of Horatio.

"Horatio Abernathy," he said.

"A mudblood," said the blond haired boy, out of the corner of his mouth.  The pen checked off Horatio's name.

"We'll be seeing you boys," said the other, the brown haired boy, then they left.

"They weren't very nice," said Horatio.  "What did they mean by mudblood."

"It's --"  Harry hesitated.  It wasn't nice to call anyone a mudblood, and he didn't want to hurt Horatio's feelings.  "It's what some people call Muggle borns.  It's not a nice term."

"So I'm a mudblood?" asked Horatio.

"It's just a name," said Harry.  "He was a jerk to use it."   Seeing the dark look that crossed Horatio's face, he added.  "My Grandmother Lilly was a Muggle born, and she was a great witch.  At least, everyone tells me she was.  Just because you're Muggle born doesn't mean you won't be a good wizard.  My dad had a friend when he was in school that was Muggle born, and she could have been one of the greatest wizards of all time."

"Could have been?"

"She kind of --" Harry hesitated, not really knowing how to continue.  It had been his father -- when possessed by Voldemort that had raped her, after all.  It was another of those stories he'd heard from others.  His father wouldn't talk about the time he'd been Khurban.  Everyone else, though, seemed to talk about nothing else.  That's why his family kept to themselves.  Harry had heard different versions of the story, so many he didn't know what the truth actually was.  "disappeared," he continued.  "She's the one that gave birth to the Horcrux.  No one knows what happened to either of them.  Neither has been heard of since.  They might both be dead."

"The Horcrux -- your brother?"

"I wish you wouldn't call him that," said Harry.  "My dad was more Voldemort than himself when he --" he didn't want to say, raped, "had sex with Hermione Granger."

"That was her name, Hermione Granger?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I'm told she was really intelligent -- and beautiful.  Would you like to see a picture of her?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Horatio.

Harry reached into a knapsack he had with him, taking out a picture.  "I found this in a drawer where my mum keeps old pictures.  He showed it to Horatio."

"She is pretty," said Horatio.  Somehow she seemed familiar, even though he knew he couldn't have possibly known her.  Dumbledore was the first wizard he had ever met.

It was dark by the time they arrived at Hogwarts station.  Harry and Horatio had put on their robes before arriving at the station.  All the Hogwarts first year students loaded into boats for the trip across the lake to Hogwarts.  The others went by carriage. 

The older students would arrive at the school first. Their trunks had already been sent.  They would be at the school by the time they arrived.  The boats moved without oars or motors, propelled across the water by magic. 

Horatio marveled at the open display of magic.  He knew he could have propelled one of the boats across the lake using his mind, but he wouldn't have dared try.  He had been considered a freak too long.  He didn't want that same reputation at this school, now he'd found others of his kind.  He didn't know if the others had the same ability.

Horatio's extraordinary abilities had caused him trouble among Muggles.  He didn't want them to cause him problems here, not among his own kind.

But was he one of them?  From the way the two boys on the train had said, mudblood, he wondered.  Even Harry referred to himself as a pureblood.  Would he be ostracized because his parents hadn't been wizards? 

He had hoped he had found somewhere he could belong, but he wondered.  At least, he hoped he'd made a friend of Harry.  Maybe he had, if he didn't weren't put in Slytherin House.  Harry had said he didn't think he could be friends with anyone in Slytherin. 

Horatio closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer to his mother's god, Jesus.  He wasn't certain he believed in him.  After all, he could already do many of the things Jesus was said to have done, and apparently, some wizards could even do more.  Could Jesus have been a wizard, not a god?  Still, he prayed, figuring it wouldn't hurt, "Please Lord, let me be put in Griffindor House with Harry."

On the other side of the lake, they filed into the castle that was Hogwarts school.  It was a grand place, built on the foothills rising from the lake and had great stone buildings with towers.   They entered a large building and were met at the top of the stairs by a young, Asian, woman.  From her robes, she appeared to be an instructor.  But she was too beautiful and too young to be a professor, Horatio thought. 

She held up her hand, stopping them.  "In a few minutes," she said, "you'll file into the hall.  Before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses.  They are Griffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.  While you're here, the others in your house will be like your family.  Your triumphs will win your house points; and your failings and your rule breaking will cost it points.  Wait here," she said, "until I come back for you."  She walked through the large double doors, shutting them behind her.

Horatio realized why it was important for him to be in same house as Harry.  The houses were in competition with each other.  He and Harry would have to be in the same house or they could be friendly, but not really friends.  Only if they were in the same house, could they be close, working toward the same goals, not competing with each other.

Harry and Horatio were at the front of the line, which extended down the stairs.  They hadn't planned it that way, but their boat had been the first one to dock.  Feeling, as much as hearing, the students behind him stir -- accompanied with some gasps, mostly from the girls -- Horatio glanced around. 

A boy pushed his way to the front.  He was beautiful, so beautiful that at the first sight of him, Horatio thought he'd faint.  The boy was tall and had hair down to his shoulders.  Horatio couldn't take his eyes off him.  Apparently, few of the others could either -- boys or girls.

Beneath his robes, Horatio's cock stirred, becoming stiff.  It was doing more of that lately, but it had never become as stiff as it was now.  The sight of the boy awoke feelings Horatio had never felt before.  He felt a visceral need for the boy to like him.  He wanted to reach out to touch him, but despite the desire the boy awoke in him, he was afraid to reach out. 

He wanted to be friends with him, more even than he had wanted to be friends with Harry, but he was afraid that, if he offered his friendship, it would be rejected; and he didn't know if he could take such a rejection.  He didn't know why he felt that way, but he did.

When the boy reached the front, he turned to face Harry and Horatio.  "Who are you?" he asked Harry.

"Harry Potter," Harry answered.

"I thought so," said the boy.  Suddenly, he no longer seemed beautiful.  Actually -- just for a moment -- he became repulsive.  His face resembled that of a bird.  His nose seemed to become a beak..  He shuddered, as if trying to regain control.  Then he was beautiful again.  He had changed, then changed back in a instant, turning away as he did,  toward Horatio.  Situated as he was, it was possible that only Harry and Horatio had seen the change. 

Now that the boy was beautiful again, Horatio wanted him.  It wasn't a decision he made -- not a conscious one anyway.  The desire was on some subconscious, primal, level, one he had no control over.  Again, his cock stiffened and throbbed.

"A Potter and Weasley all in one package," said the boy, "the worst possible combination, and I see you've taken the worst from each.  I've never seen such a pitiful specimen.  Why did your parents allow you to live?"

Harry's face turned almost as red as his hair.  "Who are you?" he asked.

"Malfoy," said the boy, "Orion Malfoy.  Your father and mine, Draco Malfoy, attended Hogwarts at the same time.  My father hated yours then -- and hates him now.  Your father used an unforgivable curse on him.  He should be in Azkaban."

"Tha -- that," Harry stammered, "wasn't my father.  It was Khurban that..." He looked down, paused as if searching for the right word, then compromised by saying, "did that to Malfoy.  Besides, he deserved it.  He'd done the same to innocent boys, ones that will never have sons because of him.  At least your father had already made a son."

Everyone but Horatio -- who was later to learn it -- knew the story.  Draco Malfoy had made love to a Veela -- some said it had been rape -- and a child had resulted from it, apparently the boy confronting Harry.  Draco had been a servant of the Dark Lord at the time and certainly capable of rape, but it was hard to say, because Draco and the Veela had later married.

Draco Malfoy had committed worse crimes, including using the Neuteramus spell on numerous boys, his age and younger.  The spell had completely removed the boys' genitals, leaving no sign they'd ever had a cock or balls. 

Khurban had later neutered him with the same spell.  No one was certain whether it had been the Harry Potter part of Khurban that had wanted to do it, or the Voldemort part.  It had probably been both.  Voldemort treated his henchmen little better than he did others.

Malfoy had been sentenced to Azkaban, but had been released early.  He had been young when he had committed the crimes, not yet seventeen, so still a minor.  Also, he had said he'd had no choice.  It had been either do it, or have Greyback do it -- and worse -- to him.  At least, that's what he had said.

Now, his son, the same age as Harry and Horatio, was entering Hogwarts.  Orion had apparently inherited his mother's beauty and charm.  Human males are hypnotically attracted to Veelas, just as Horatio had been to Orion. 

There was little known about the effects a male Veela -- even one half human -- might have on humans, because male Veelas were  unheard of.  Even when a Veela mated with a human, the child had always been a girl.  No one even knew how Veelas produced children among themselves.  No male Veela was known to exist.  Some dark magic must have produced Orion, because he was one of a kind.

There was no doubt that human females were attracted to him.  Lust hung so heavily in the air that it was almost palpable.  Apparently, from what Horatio felt for him, that attraction extended to males, too.

"My father taught me that spell, Potter," Malfoy said, pulling his wand from beneath his robes.  I'm going to do the world a favor by using it on you.  You'll be the last Potter, since your father seems incapable of having more children.

Horatio saw the look of fear on his friends face.  "That's a forbidden spell," said Harry, "If you use it, you'll be kicked out of Hogwarts.  They might even put you in Azkaban."

"They don't put eleven year-olds in Azkaban," replied Malfoy, "and I think I can convince everyone that I didn't do it."  He smiled, and for a moment Horatio wanted him to do it.  He wanted Orion Malfoy to neuter his friend.  Horatio would do anything for that smile.  If Malfoy had continued to smile, Horatio would probably have stood by and let him castrate his friend. 

For that smile, he might have even let Malfoy kill Harry, but as Malfoy raised his wand, the smile faded.  His face again took on a bird-like appearance.  It reminded Horatio of a owl. 

The change released Horatio from the spell Malfoy had on him.  A word came to his mind.  He was certain he'd never heard it before, but despite that, he knew it was a spell.  "Balbus," he said under his breath.

Most wizards had to use their wand to cast a spell, and if Horatio had used his, the spell would have certainly been stronger.  Still, without his wand, it worked.  "Neu -- neu -- neu -- neu," Malfoy said.  He had actually tried to use the Neuteramus spell on Harry, but Horatio had first used the stammering spell, Balbus, on him.  Malfoy wasn't able to say the spell.

Malfoy became uglier still.  What had Horatio ever seen in him?  How could he have even liked him, much less loved him, as he had, not moments before?  Horatio would NOT allow himself to be controlled by this strange power Malfoy seemed to have.  That voice in his mind had screamed out, "How can you be so weak?"

Horatio wasn't weak.  He might be Muggle born, but he wasn't weak.  He resolved not to submit to that power that Malfoy had exerted over him.  Not again, he wouldn't.  He would remember how Malfoy looked now.  If he kept that picture in his mind, whenever he looked at him, maybe he could resist his charm.

 Malfoy looked at Horatio, his face becoming more bird-like -- uglier -- by the minute.  Even though Horatio had spoken the spell under his breath, Malfoy had heard him.  He balled up his fist, possibly intending to use it on Horatio, since the spell kept him from speaking, but at that moment, the doors opened and Professor Chang came out.

"They are ready for you," she said.  Line up in the center of the hall, at the front, by the head table, where you will see a hat sitting on a stool.  That's the Sorting Hat.  It will sort you, placing you in a house.  The Sorting Hat's choice if irrevocable.  Not even Professor Dumbledore can overrule it.

Turning away from Horatio, Malfoy smiled at Professor Chang.  His face changed.  Once again, he was beautiful, but Horatio -- in his mind -- saw how he had looked moments before.  This time, he wasn't attracted to him.  

He wondered about Harry, though.  Harry looked as though he'd forgotten Malfoy had tried to neuter him only moments before.  Maybe he'd just forgiven him for it, since he was beautiful once again.

Not me, Horatio told himself.  No one will have that much control over me.  If that's what love does to you, I won't love. 

He heard a chuckle inside his head and felt a presence.  The voice frightened him, but that's how he had known the spell.  Maybe he could read minds.  Maybe -- somehow -- he could connect with others.  Whoever this was, he was strong.  Horatio could feel his power.  Maybe he could learn from him. 

Malfoy stuck his wand back into his robe, then followed Professor Chang into the room.  Harry and Horatio followed him.  Malfoy, glanced back at Horatio and said, "I'll get you for this, you filthy mudblood."