September 1991, New York, Self Defense Army Headquarters - International Confederation of Wizards

"You'll be going to Hogwarts? Why?" Colonel Kernel drew a breath from his cigar, then put it down on the ashtray beside him.

The afternoon sun had fallen through the window, and Harry was standing across from the Colonel's working desk. He was still wearing his uniform with the three-letter badge that stood for the ICW of the International Confederation of Wizards. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he looked the colonel straight in the eye for a long moment before answering:

"I have important work to do there. Furthermore, my position in the Army also allows me to have a fair amount of free time, so don't worry Colonel. If there is a mission that needs me, I will attend immediately."

Colonel Kernel took another puff of his cigar, before extinguished it completely:

"If possible, I advise you not to go there. That school was particularly old-fashioned and traditional when it came to the use of magic. There you will only be met with contempt and discomfort."

Harry looked at a point somewhere on the desk, and he said, quietly:

"I know."

Colonel Kernel sighed, he laced his hands together and placed them under his chin, gazing at Harry with his amber eyes:

"Honestly, I still can't help but be surprised by your abilities. The ability to read and calculate magic with extraordinary precision, even far beyond the limits of the most experienced Auror in terms of mapping techniques. You know, we wizards and witches can only feel magic, and see strange things around us, but no one really sees how magic works like you do."

Harry tried to get himself to look down at his boots. He can do this because of his A.I brain, how could Harry tell the Colonel like that? In the end, he answered:

"Yes, I know."

Colonel Kernel, seeing that Harry didn't respond, tapped his fingers on the table, then looked out the window, where one of the leafless trees in the courtyard reached:

"Perhaps you have a job that is hard to tell me about, and it doesn't violate army's law, so I won't stop you. However, I don't really want to hand you over to Dumbledore."

Harry's eyes widened slightly, and he raised his head in surprise:

"Didn't Dumbledore already know about me? I mean, he holds the highest Mugwump position in the Confederation...?"

Colonel Kernel casually shrugged:

"The Self-Defense Army exists separately from the rest of the Confederation, Harry. We are also not subject to the orders of the Court, or even the Union Leadership. We have our own governing body. This decision was made in 1920, due to fears that the Confederation might have manipulated our factions into waging a senseless military war. So your existence is probably not known by the Supreme Mugwump."

"I see..."

Colonel Kernel raised an index finger at Harry and said seriously:

"You're not allowed to reveal your military identity while you're there, understand? It's not that I don't respect Dumbledore's wisdom, but he can be a little...how do I put it? Ah...a bit cruel when using his pawns."

Harry nodded. Although he had never met this man named Dumbledore, if the Colonel had warned him so, he must have known something about Dumbledore, the side that the man doesn't reveal to outsiders.

* * *

As Harry stepped down the stairs leading to Snape's office, he could feel the bone-chilling cold all around him. The potions classroom was at the end of a long tunnel, slightly damp and smelling of seaweed, probably because its walls are covered by the waters from the Black Lake, a vast lake that surrounded the castle.

Inside the Potions classroom, the temperature hadn't risen at all, but had gotten even colder, causing Harry to exhale a bit of smoke. The basement wasn't pitch dark, but it wasn't as bright as the classes above ground either, just enough light to illuminate test tubes and glass bottles filled with rare ingredients and insects, which scattered all over the four walls.

Harry was still looking around the classroom when a cold voice made him jumped:

"Have you seen enough, Potter? You will never be allowed to make any kind of potion in this room. So stop ogling and get to work."

Snape entered the classroom, and he closed the large door behind him.

Harry raised one hand and rubbed his other arm. He asked, trying to keep himself as polite as possible:

"Professor, where should I start?"

Snape clicked his tongue, his lips curled up mockingly:

"Tsk tsk, is your mind really so dim that you don't even know what to do? You don't even know to ask Filch the procedure before coming here. Just like your brother, the two of you dimwits can only go so far."

Harry thought his words carefully before he asked back. He'd wondered before why Snape was so hard on him, and thought that that might have stemmed from his disliking of his brother. Now, however, he understood quite well that Snape would still find a way to hate the Potter's brothers, whether or not they'd ever offended him.

Adrian gets aggressive quite easily, so it's possible he'd said something back to Snape's face. Snape was staring intently at Harry through his cold eyes, perhaps waiting for him to explode like his brother. But Harry is different. He was perfectly able to stay calm, for he knew that if he protested now, Adrian would probably suffer the consequences in the coming Potions lessons.

"Professor, I apologize for not being prepared. Could you please show me...?" Harry said, staring at the floor.

Snape strode past him, onto the teacher's desk, aligning the students' papers on his desk:

"Clean the cauldrons, then replace the cauldron on the last table row with a new one from the storage. That Neville brat has cost us too many cauldrons this year." Then, the professors pointed to a pot full of creatures that looked like toads, but had strange horns growing from their head "Then eviscerated these horned toads. I want everything to be done within an hour, before the first years enter for their first class."

* * *

During the two Potions classes, since all the students were studying, Harry had two hours to spare, so he went back to his room. Caretaker Filch often spends this time stalking and chasing Peeves, who has been drawing graffities on the board in empty classrooms. Harry immediately pulled out his research books, then sat on his bed and started working, reading and writing as quickly as he could. He still has a lot to prove in the Psion discovery paper, so even if he wasn't allowed to attend magical classes, he already had enough work to do.

After Snape's classes had ended, Harry rushed to the Transfiguration classroom to prepare materials for Professor McGonagall's lessons. It took him a long time to get rid of all the toad intestines that had stuck to his fingernails, and so by the time he got to Professor McGonagall's class, he was a minute late.

Unlike the dungeon, Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom is on the third floor of the castle, which has quite harmonious and comfortable lighting. There were two large bookcases in the room behind the professor's desk, and the professor herself was sitting and writing with a quill on the desk.

"You're late, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall said without raising her head.

"I'm sorry, Professor." Harry said as he looked around the room, wondering what this professor would tell him to prepare for Transfiguration.

What Harry needed to prepare for the class turned out to be quite simple. All he had to do was hand out needles and a few matches to each desk, so that the first-year kids could take the test of turning matches into needles.

As he was about to leave the classroom, Professor McGonagall called him over.

"Here." She gave him two books that read 'Basic Magic: Volume 1 and Volume 2' "Of course, these are just the basics, but at least it can satisfy your mind a little bit."

"But..." Harry raised his head, looking confused. "I thought Squib wasn't allowed to borrow spellbooks from the library, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall looked at him seriously for a moment, before she flashed that rare smile which she rarely gave her students, unless the student was truly gifted:

"Library books are for professors and students only, Mr. Potter. But there's no law yet that says a professor can't lend books to other staff members of the school."

Harry's face lit up brightly as he frantically thanked the professor, then ran off to his room.

* * *

Since Harry didn't eat breakfast and lunch in the Great Hall, but cooked for himself in his office with Filch, and was only involved in arranging equipment for the professors before and after classes, he didn't get a chance to meet Adrian until late dinner that day. Adrian was walking down the Great Hall with another red-haired boy, and the boy immediately waved loudly when he saw Harry.

"Brother!"

He ran to hug his twin brother. Harry patted his cute little brother's head:

"What's up? Have you learned a lot of new things these days?"

Adrian happily boasted:

"A lot, big bro! We studied Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms...Ah, that's right!"

The boy pulled the red-haired boy's hand over to Harry and introduced:

"This is Ron Weasley, my new friend."

Harry smiled at Ron, and the boy shyly smiled back. Adrian continued to babbling unceasingly:

"This is my older brother, Harry Potter. And he's a Squ–"

"Don't say it, Adrian!" Ron hissed, whispering, "If Draco hears that, he'll make fun of you for the rest of your life. Having a brother as a Squib is the worst thing that could happen in a wizarding family."

Adrian looked hurt. Perhaps because Ron was always shown to be a comfortable and sociable person, he didn't expect that his best friend could say such discriminatory words.

The boy crossed his arms, his eyes scowling angrily:

"But he's my older brother, I won't treat him like a stranger!"

"Of course, when it's just the two of you, you can do whatever you want. But in public it's best to ignore him, Adrian. Trust me. You don't want you to be isolated." "I don't care about Squib and Fred and George most of the time doesn't, either, but Percy has always been arrogant about his magical abilities," Ron said through gritted teeth.

"But-" Adrian was about to argue when Harry put a hand on his shoulder.

"Adrian, Ron is right." said Harry, his voice still soft but firmly. "I don't mind. Besides," he sat down in front of his lovely brother, taking Adrian's hand "I want you to have as much fun with your friends as you can. Don't worry about me, alright? Now, you should go to the Hall for dinner, you're hungry aren't you?"

"Aren't you coming to eat with me?" Adrian pouted.

Harry shook his head. He smiled at him:

"I've already eaten.You go ahead."

Then, Harry did something he'd been doing since they were both kids. He stood up and snuggled in with Adrian. Harry looked over, and he saw his twin smile a little. The boy turned his back, then hurriedly walked into the Hall, continuing to chat happily with his friend as he walked.