Chapter 3

Perspectives

It had been 10 years since that fateful night. Miles Potter was now 11, and in about a week, he'd be going to Hogwarts. Despite being spoiled by his parents and the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he'd turned out to be a pretty good kid. He was grateful for what he had, and what he had was a vast assortment of belongings that most children his age would love to own. 

His room was spacious, the second to the master bedroom, where James and Lily slept. He had his own private bathroom, with a large bathtub and shower. His room was enormous. The walls were bedecked with Quidditch posters, making the Gryffindor red wallpaper with gold trim nearly possible to see. He had a king-sized bed, though instead of matching the room, and much against James' wishes, Miles had opted for dark green bedcovers. This was allowed only under the condition that they could magically change color when there were guests present. 

Besides that, there were a lot of other things in the room. Miles had a large bookshelf against one wall, an area with comfy beanbag chairs near that. He had the various assortment of figurines and toy cars as well. Not only that, but Miles had a great interest in music. Despite being from a wizard family, he thought that music was magic of its own. He already had a piano in the room, and for a birthday a few years back, his godfather, Sirius, had given him a guitar, which he'd of course signed. 

Miles had more toys than he knew what to do with. Truth be told, he hadn't really wanted most of them. The majority were gifts, and a good portion of those were from fans of the Boy Who Lived, as they called him. Miles wasn't one for all the attention, and though he appreciated the gesture, he secretly thought that there were a lot of other kids who could use those toys more than he did. 

He'd asked Lily and James about donating the stuff he didn't need, but they declined, saying that only once Miles was too old for the toys would they be given away. After all, they'd explained, the children who came to the various parties held at Potter Manor would need something to play with when they were with Miles. It was a battle he couldn't win, and knowing this, he dropped the topic. 

As much as he thought the children who came to his parties were alright, he didn't care for most of them all too much. For example, the Weasley children were absolutely insufferable. At least the ones he was introduced to. Ron and Ginny Weasley were a pain to deal with. Ron would follow him around and often would drag Miles away when he went to play with some other kids. Ginny was slightly better, though she also had a habit of tailing him. 

The twins, Fred and George, were by far his favorite, though their older brothers, Bill and Charlie, were pretty fun as well. He'd only met the others a few times though, at family gatherings. The twins were constantly pulling pranks, and Miles was all too happy to join in when they asked him. This had been the pride of James and Sirius, who were enthusiastic that Miles would "continue their legacy", as they put it. Remus had just shook his head, rolling his eyes at their antics, though Miles had caught him restraining a smirk multiple times.

His other uncle, Peter, was never there. He'd met him once or twice of course, but had never really liked the man. He was always twitchy, looking around the room, and once Miles had spotted him pocketing a nice goblet of the Potter's. Miles had caught him at it, but James had believed Peter's story of simply admiring the crest adorning it. 

It did just as well though since due to his absence, Peter had never been very present in their lives. Sirius and Remus had been named his and Harry's godfathers, and since Miles personally adored them, that was just fine for him. 

There were others that Miles got along with, though due to certain circumstances, he didn't get to see them that often. Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass had come to his parties before, and Miles had taken a liking to them. So, to please his son, James allowed them to come over more often, despite his not wanting to. 

That left one more person Miles was close to. Or at least tried to be close to. Harry, his brother. Unfortunately for those two, they never seemed to have any time together. There would be times when they were younger when they'd have the opportunity to play. They would race their toy broom around the house, or Miles would invite Harry over to his room to play with their various toys. 

Recently though, it seemed his parents, and for some reason, Dumbledore had been pushing him further and further away from his brother. Dumbledore would come over so often that it would have made sense to give him his own room there. Whenever he tried to simply spend time with Harry, his parents would take him out, or Dumbledore would seemingly materialize from thin air, telling him he had to train. It was frustrating. 

Speaking of training, he did that a lot. To his credit, Dumbledore was a pretty good teacher, though he'd had help. Miles was already familiar with all his school subjects up to 6th year thanks to the help of Dumbledore and the rest of his colleagues at Hogwarts. The old man had also wanted him to excel in subjects that weren't necessarily academic. 

Miles had been given a top-of-the-line racing broom from his parents, and every weekend he and his father would train hard, sometimes with Sirius when he was there. It was somewhat school-related, given that it had a lot to do with Transfiguration, but with the help of James, Sirius, Minerva, or Minnie McGonnagal, and of course Dumbledore, Miles was also on the road to becoming an animagus. He was only studying the theory so far though.

He was definitely busy for sure. What with his training and all the events his parents somehow managed to get him involved in, he felt like he couldn't catch a break. That wasn't to say he didn't enjoy his life though. Miles knew he was far more fortunate than many wizarding children, but sometimes he felt like he'd gladly switch places with any of them.  

☆

In another room of Potter Manor, however, another child was having a very different experience, despite being the same age as Miles. Sure, they didn't have that many similar features, but they were still twins. Miles' eyes were hazel, his hair brown, and he didn't wear glasses, unlike Harry and James. Harry, on the other hand, had black hair, green eyes, and was a little smaller than his brother.

Harry Potter lived in another room of the house, about two doors down from Miles'. His room was far different from his brother's. The walls were a pale grey, elegant, yet rather plain. His bedspread was black, making the whole room have a very monochrome feel. Harry personally liked it that way, though a little decoration for the walls wouldn't have been minded. 

His room was rather small, at least compared to his brother's. There was room for a tiny closet, though he didn't have enough clothes to fill it up anyway. He had a dresser too, which was mostly empty as well. The only thing he did have fully stocked was a bookshelf in the corner, stocked with books that he had brought from the library in the Potter home, not wanting to have to go back and forth from there if he wanted to read something. 

Unlike Miles, Harry cherished any bit of attention he could get. It wasn't that he was an attention-seeker, more like attention was never directed in his way. His mum and dad barely spoke to him, and when he'd called them out about it, they'd apologized hastily, claiming to be too busy with his brother. 

He knew it wasn't their fault though. Albus Dumbledore was always at their house for reasons it seemed were only known to himself, and he didn't seem to like Harry very much. This wouldn't have bothered him, but his parents were very heavily influenced by the man, thus resulting in Harry often being forgotten and his lack of belongings. 

The only person who treated him like they should have was in fact, Miles. He'd sneak Harry into his room during the day, and they'd play a variety of games. Some days, Miles would use his broom to fly the two of them out to the treehouse in a large oak, which resided in the impressive amount of land they had around the manor. They had an old wizard's chess set, and Miles had somehow rigged a television to run without electricity, so they could watch something if they wanted to. 

Those days, where it was just the two of them, laughing and playing chess as the telly played in the background, snacking on Jelly Slugs and licorice wands, were moments Harry had and would cherish forever. He just knew that despite being forgotten by everyone else, he'd always have his brother. 

But now, they were almost on their way to Hogwarts. Finally, Harry would have the chance to interact with other people and be treated like everyone else. Best of all, he could spend time with Miles whenever he wanted, if they were sorted into the same house at least. 

He'd wanted to talk to his brother about this, so a few days later, as they were sitting in the treehouse, Harry tentatively asked, "Miles?" 

"Yes, Harry?"

"What house d'you reckon you'll be sorted into?"

"Well... for me I suppose Gryffindor. Like mum, dad, and the rest of the world would expect."

"But what about what you want?"

Miles stared at him intently. "Fine, I'll tell you, but you've got to promise that you won't tell anyone else."

Harry nodded, he didn't have people to tell anyway, and he would rather die than betray his brother's trust. "Of course, I swear it."

"Okay, I want to be in Slytherin." Even as he said it, Miles looked around nervously, as though his parents were listening in on them as they spoke. 

"Slytherin? Whatever for?"

"I know it gets a bad reputation, but some pretty amazing wizards have come out of Slytherin, and I know I'll have some good friends in that house."

"Like Uncle Regulus? About the good wizards, I mean."

"Yeah, like him. And Merlin. Even our grandma was in Slytherin, and you wouldn't believe the stories Minnie tells about her." Miles had told him most of this already. About their grandmother, Euphemia, who had been born a Black, but had married their grandfather and joined the Potter family. And Regulus, whom Sirius and Remus would tell the most vivid stories about. 

Harry looked at the ground. Being in Slytherin had been something he'd considered ever since he'd realized how soon they'd be at Hogwarts. His parents likely didn't care which house he got sorted into, and as for Dumbledore, the old coot would gladly accept another excuse to despise Harry. If Miles could be in Slytherin after all, why couldn't Harry?

"I'd like to be in Slytherin too." 

Miles broke into a grin. "Really?" 

Harry nodded. "I don't see why not, it was my first choice. I had no idea you wanted to be in it too."

Miles took a deep breath and stuck out his hand. "Well then, if we can, I suppose I'll see you in Slytherin house after the sorting."

Harry took his hand and firmly shook it. "I suppose you will."