Outsider Chronicles: Thats So Wrong

Getting reborn into the world of Harry Potter is...interesting. I'm sure that many reading would think that it'd be great, but what if you were Harry's sibling in a WBWL story? Yeah, thats me. Now I have to deal with annoying parents, gold diggers and annoying 'friends'. Still, its not all bad. At least Harry's new family and friends are the hero type.

Remember this? Its the only story I've ever abandoned due to getting such an epic backlash that it was almost physically painful rather than because my Muse decided to get high and move onto something else. Well, I've decided to play Frankenstein resurrect it and switch out some parts to make it less likely to have you lot eviscerate me. Hopefully you'll like this better. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

You know, I often wonder if maybe I pissed someone off last time through. Then I look at my friends and realize that no, I most definitely didn't. Sorry, I'm getting WAY ahead of myself. Lets back up a bit and start from the beginning. It all started after I died from having a shelf full of Harry Potter merchandise fall on me. Not the most grandiose of deaths, although it does make me think that maybe Death has a sense of humor considering where I woke up. Anyway, after I ied from blunt force trauma, I woke up again in the body of a baby. Not what I was expecting. But lets roll with it. What I can't roll with is the fact that someone upstairs seems to be having a laugh at my expense. What makes me say that? Well, my Father can turn into a stag, my mother is known for a fiery temper and green eyes and my Godfather is literally a mutt. I am fucking screwed! Oh, and you know the worst part? I'm not Harry. Oh no, I've been reborn as his twin brother, Brandon Potter. Something tells me that is is gonna end badly…


I WAS FUCKING RIGHT! The attack happened pretty much exactly as I was expecting, with Voldie barging into Harry and my room, killed Mum in front of our crib, before shooting the Killing Curse at Harry. I'm not entirely sure what happened next, but whatever it was resulted in the Curse being reflected straight back at Voldemort with far more force, blowing the Dark Lord to bits and carving a pair of horizontal lines into my cheek with the backlash. You can probably guess what happened next.

Dumbledore showed up, declared me the BWL and then did something that resulted in Harry getting dumped somewhere, probably the Dursley's front doorstep. And all I could do was sit there and watch, completely unable to do anything to stop it! Aww well, knowing worlds like this, hes probably going to end up in a MUCH better place. Probably with a bunch of hot girls while hes at it.

I on the other hand grew up surrounded by praise, luxury and with the best education money can buy. And you know what? I loathed every minute of it. I hated the attention, I hated the blatantly biased bullshit I was spoonfed and, more than anything, I hated the sycophants who sucked up to me. The worst of the lot was Ron and Ginny, the former who had somehow gotten it into his head that I was his best mate and the latter couldn't be in the same room as me for more than a minute without embarrassing herself To make matters worse, Molly and my Father seemed to be trying to push us together, despite our young age. I once overheard something about waiting to make sure I had a proper Light side wife when I grew up and Ginny was the best choice because she had red hair or some other inane reason.


Father seemed to be shoving his head further and further up his arse with each passing day. It had got to the point where he considered everyone who wasn't firmly in the Light to be Dark and worthy of suspicion at best and outright hostility at worst. That meant he had managed to alienate over a third of the Wizengamot and the only reason the Light side ever won anything these days was thanks to Sirius much more effective politicking.

As a result of my Fathers actions, I had ended up being slapped with a similar label and basically everyone I met who wasn't glued firmly to my Father's ass treated me with a detached politeness at best and veiled hostility at worst. It was apparent that most everyone expected me to be an arrogant, self centered, Light side moron and never gave me chance to prove otherwise. Mostly because my Father was usually hovering in the background, glowering at them. Bastard.

Still, it wasn't all bad. Despite the fact that my Father seemed insistent on completely neglecting to teach me anything in the form of proper manners in the Wizarding World, I managed to learn what I need to from the library and the paintings of my ancestors, many of whom were not best pleased by how James was acting. Oh, don't get me wrong, I wasn't too keen on how stuffy most of the Pureblood traditions were, but knowing them would help me get a good many people off my back and keep me from making unnecessary enemies.

Still, it wasn't all bad. I might think that the younger Weasleys are annoying little brats, but the Twins were a ton of fun to hang around with, Neville was a nice guy and having proper friends meant that he wasn't quite as shy and Susan Bones was a good friend, although recently Father had been getting shirty about me hanging around with her as the Bones had finally had enough of his antics and switched to the Gray faction, lead by the Greengrass house.


Anyway, getting off the subject of me growing up surrounded by sycophants and the constant battle with migraines as a result of it and onto the first event that would cause me even more headaches...but still put me in a much, much better position than I was before. It was the big day, I'd got my Hogwarts letter a few days before (heralding a party that I felt was frankly overkill) and Father and Sirius took me to Diagon alley to get my things. In order to speed things up, we split up after Father gave me some spending money and my first stop was Madam Malkin's.

The second I entered, Malkin immediately swept me onto a stool, babbling about how much of an honour it was to serve me, which I ignored. As I stood there waiting for Madam Malkin to finish, the shop door opened again and two girls entered the shop. The first girl was slightly shorter than average and carried herself with the air of a proper Pureblood princess. She had cold, gray eyes and hip length ash blonde hair and fair skin. She was wearing high quality, black and gold robes that I'm pretty sure were made of Acromantula silk.

Her companion was taller, with long, flame red hair tied into pigtails, light brown eyes and lightly tanned skin. She was wearing a red and yellow sundress that made it look like she was on fire. Unlike her companion, she had a slight smile and her eyes showed more emotion. Well, they did until they saw me, then both girls icy masks snapped up faster than I could blink. I suppressed the urge to sigh and roll my eyes.

"Heir Potter," said the gray haired girl with a curt nod.

"Please drop the formalities," I said, "Seriously, we're gonna be classmates this year, I really don't want to have a stick rammed up my arse all year."

Both girls looked rather taken aback.

"With that in mind, lets start this conversation again," I said with a smirk at the looks on their faces, "Hi Daphne, Tracey, are you looking forwards to Hogwarts?"

Tracey blinked and smirked back.

"Well, your certainly not what we were expecting," she said, "After how you acted towards Malfoy at the Minister's Yule Ball last year…"

"That was because he was being a right little toerag," I said, "Unlike some people, I prefer to actually get to know people as, well, people instead of basing my opinion of them on which side of the Wizengamot they sit on or the colour of their tie."

Malkin nudged me off the stool and took the fitted robes off to create the robes in the sizes I need. It took about five minutes before I was paying her and heading out the door.

"I'll see you ladies at school!" I called back as I left.


After that, life continued as normal, right up until the Sorting. No, really, absolutely nothing of interest happened. The only difference is that Ron ended up in my Compartment from the start (Bastard), Neville decided to stick around and Malfoy knew better than to try and engaged in a battle of wits armed only with what amounted to a wet breadstick. Hermione dropped by at one point and managed to immediately get on my bad side upon finding out who I was and listing all of the books I was mentioned in.

Now, despite that, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt...right up until she blew any chance of me ever doing more than putting up with her out of the water, but thats for later.


The interesting event started at the Sorting. Naturally, I was already under a lot of scrutiny, despite still being in the middle of a massive crowd of other firsties. After all, unlike Harry, virtually everyone already knew what I looked like, no thanks to my Father pushing my fame at every opportunity, and my firey red hair was rather eye catching.

Anyway, after a bunch of students (Including Daphne and Tracey who ended up in Slytherin) were sorted, it was my turn and I stepped up to the plate, ignoring the whispers that erupted behind me as the had was placed on my head and dropped over my eyes. For a moment, all I could see was black. Then the Hat burst out laughing.

"Found something interesting?" I thought.

"Oh, yes indeed Mr Potter," said the Hat, "Very interesting indeed. You certainly do have a lot of interesting knowledge about this world...oh, whats this?"

There was a watery sensation and the Hat snorted again.

"Oh, thats just perfect!" he chuckled, "My my Mr Potter, you really are going to mess up the Status Quo."

"Whats that supposed to mean?"

"I'm afraid that I cannot tell you that," said the Hat, "However, I can give you some advice. Your strength will grow through conflict, so do try to play along on occasion."

"Huh?"

"Now, lets get you sorted," said the Hat, completely ignoring me, "Considering your attitude, Hufflepuff is right out. You're smart enough for Ravenclaw, although how much is actual intelligence and how much is from two runs through life is up for debate. You have the cunning and ambition for Slytherin, but I get the distinct impression that if I put you there you'll have killed Mr Malfoy before the weeks out. Plus, you're more likely to take any plans you have and use them as a battering ram to beat down whoever gets in your way...good god, its like Godric all over again! Theres no doubt about it, you'd be best suited for…"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I ignored the cheers from the red table as I took of the Hat and headed over to join my table. I absently returned Percy's handshake as I sat down across from Hermione and glanced up at the Head table. As I did, I met Dumbledores eyes and immediately felt a slight pressure on my Occlumency shields. I immediately shoved back, hard, making the old geezers head jerk back. That done, I turned back to the table and the mouth watering spread on display. I'd deal with the old man later, right now I was more interested in filling my belly.

As I ate, I scanned the room, noting that the Slytherin First Years already seemed to be creating their power bases. Malfoy was sitting with Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Zabini, while Daphne seemed to be holding court with Tracey, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, as well as Cedric Diggory and Susan Bones who were sitting close enough to comfortably talk at the Hufflepuff table. Not really surprising considering that everyone there was part of the Gray faction, with the Parkinson and Bulstrodes having been recent additions following the deaths of their Lords and leaving their seats to their wives.

I frowned. God I wish I could join them rather than inevitably be stuck with the hypocrites that made up the Light...


That thought continued to eat at me for weeks after the start of school, adding to the pulsing headache my fellow students were causing for me. Ron was easily one of the worst, constantly trying to pull me away from my homework to mess around and waste time with him. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm all for having fun, but Ron annoys me at the best of times and I really didn't want to fall behind in my schoolwork. Eventually, I got sick of his interruptions, took up his offer of playing chess and kicked his arse within six moves. I left him staring at his shattered King in disbelief as I went back to my Potions essay.

Speaking of Potions, Snape was...well, Snape. He made absolutely no attempt to hide the fact he hated my guts and was always looking for an excuse to take points or stick me in detention. My response was to act like a model student around him and smile whenever he started up, much to Ron's confusion and Snapes ire. Every time I did it, Snape went a very interesting shade of purple and I was expecting to give him an aneurysm by the end of the year.


Anyway, time marched on and before long Halloween rolled around and with it, the inevitable fight with the Troll. Naturally, its started like you'd expect, with Hermione trying to help Ron and then running off to the loo for a full day after he insulted her. Now, heres the thing, I could have stepped in to help, but Hermione was quickly proving to be a right pain in the neck. Between spewing information verbatim from the coursebooks to answer questions, a seemingly compulsive need to be top of the class and a horrible habit of nagging everyone in Gryffindor to study nearly 24/7, she was in dire need of a scare to set her straight.

Still, I wasn't about to let her get hurt, so when Quirrel showed up yelling about the Troll, I swiftly headed up to the Third Floor after giving Percy the slip. My intention was to get Hermione out of the bathroom before the troll arrived. Unfortunately, it seems that I was to late as a truly foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. I turned the corner, just in time to see the Troll stump past the end of the corridor and into the girls bathroom. It was a horrible sight which, like many other things I'd experienced, was on a completely different level to how it appeared in the film or books. Maybe it was because I could smell the damn thing as well?


Anyway, I ran down the hall and reached the bathroom, just in time to hear a terrified scream. I kicked the door down and ran inside, pulling out my wand as I went. Inside I found Hermione cowering against the wall opposite, looking scared out of her wits as the troll advanced on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

"Tch, I think I should have brought some help…" I muttered, "Well, I'm here now, so…."

I took a deep breath and pointed my wand at the Trolls head.

"HEY UGLY!" I yelled, "CONFRINGO!"

The blasting curse slammed into the back of the Troll's noggin with the force of a Bludger...and did precisely no damage whatsoever. It did however get the Troll's attention and thats exactly what I was going for. The Troll grunted and turned to me, hefting its massive club above its head. I gulped and took a step back as the massive beast loomed above me. Hmm, maybe I should have thought this through…

I dove out of the way as the Troll swung at me, demolishing another toilet.

"HERMIONE, GET OUT OF HERE!" I yelled at the girl as I ducked under another swing.

Unfortunately, it looked like Hermione was frozen in terror in her little corner. I'm not even sure that she heard me.

"Tch…"

I pointed my wand at the floor under the Troll's feet and cast a Glasius. Instantly, the water that covered the floor from the broken toilets and sinks froze, dropping the Troll on his behind with a loud crash. I ran around it and grabbed Hermione by the back of the robes, hauling her to her feet and frog marching her towards the door, snapping her out of her daze in the process.

"Wha…"

"Come on now, time to go, quickly now before…"

I was cut off by a loud crash as the Troll finally regained its feet, let out a roar and swung its club at us. There was no time to dodge, so I shoved Hermione away, out of the path of the club. I'd died once already after all and, annoying or no, Hermione was still just a kid with her whole life ahead of her. I turned to face the Troll and, rather pointlessly, crossed my arms in front of my face as if to block the strike

"BRANDON!" screamed Hermione as the club slammed down onto me.

My vision momentarily blurred and, in a moment of complete madness, instead of just trying to block the blow, I swung my fist right bbefore the club hit me...and shattered into pieces as the Troll was sent flying back and through the bathroom wall as if it had been the one struck with a massive blow instead of my apparently weak blow.

"Wha…" I gasped as I stared at the brand new hole in the wall, wide eyed as the dust from the blast floated down around me.

Before I could even think about asking more however, the sound of running footsteps reached my ears and Snape, Mcgonagall and Quirrell burst into the room.


After the Troll incident, things mostly calmed down for the rest of the year. I'm pretty sure that Dumbledore kept trying to steer me towards either the room with the Mirror in or the Third Floor corridor due to the sheer number of times I somehow ended up in the vicinity of the latter due to the stairs moving and the fact I somehow ended up in the mirror room after a days studying at the library. Admittedly, I was a little curious as to what I'd see in the mirror anyway, so I decided to take a peek when I did arrive.

Looking back at me from the enchanted glass was an older version of me wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a pool cue in one hand and a pint in the other while on the other side of the projected pool table, an older looking Harry was lining up his shot. Both adults were clearly talking and laughing, although there was no sound. I snorted. Interesting image, but it got the idea across. My greatest desire was to be able to reconcile and actually build a relationship with Harry. I'm not entirely sure why the mirror depicted that as us playing pool at a bar though.

I shook my head and left the room, ignoring the slight shimmer that was near the door. Dumbledore could pull the strings however he wanted, but I'd already severed mine. I wouldn't dance to his tune unless it benefited me and going after the stone was one thing I wouldn't be doing. Ever.


Unfortunately, some people were making it rather hard to keep to that intent. I'm not sure if it was intentional or not, but Ron seemed insistent on trying to figure out what Fluffy was guarding. Apparently the idiot had ended up in the mutts room after nearly getting caught by Filch after stumbling into the Forbidden Corridor. It didn't help that he was also trying to convince me to help him get rid of Norbert the Dragon. Hermione wasn't helping matters as she was insistent on trying to figure out who Flamel was and kept asking for my help. Eventually, I just told her who he was, resulting in Ron and Hermione pooling their knowledge and coming to the conclusion that someone was trying to steal the Stone and that it was hidden on the Third Floor. Ron tried to convince me that we should go and stop whoever it was, but I decided to go talk to Flitwick instead.

I would have gone to Mcgonagall, but she was likely to brush us off and not listen. Flitwick at least heard us out and agreed that it was better to be safe than sorry, especially since we managed to figure it out based on the clues provided. With my good deed for the day done, I went to sleep with my curtains charmed to shock anyone who tried to open them before sun up. Considering Ron's hair was stood on end the next day and he kept glaring at me, I have a feeling that he might have tried to wake me up at some point.

In other news, apparently Flitwick had cranked up the defences without telling Dumbledore and, as a result, had caught the big fish, resulting in Voldies shade fleeing and leaving Quirril to die a horrible and painful death.

And with that, the first year came to an end with me acing most of the exams, with the exception of Potions and History, but that wasn't really that big a loss. I did have to wonder how much my refusal to dance to Dumbles tune had annoyed the old geezer though…


Third Person POV, Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore was annoyed. After all his hard work, all of his plans for this year had fallen apart. It had all started when Harry Potter, the true Boy Who Lived, had failed to show up and, upon investigating, turned out to have vanished years ago, followed shortly by the Dursleys being tortured to death by persons unknown. With his main pawn gone, Dumbledore had been forced to switch his focus to Brandon, his back up. The problem was that he'd left Harry with the Dursleys to make him a malleable little pawn through beating him down and making Dumbledore seem like a great and magnanimous savior. Brandon on the other hand, would need a different and much more difficult method of moulding him into a suitable mytre. And that was before you take into account the fact he was nothing like how Dumbledore had expected!

Brandon Potter was incredibly savvy, far more so than he should have been considering the lack of education James should have given him, and somehow managed to avoid moving like he was supposed to at every turn. The old man had planned to force a confrontation between Brandon and Tom in the forest by using a detention as an excuse, but the brat refused to do anything that would warrant such a punishment! Hell, he was practically a model student! This wasn't how the son of James Potter was supposed to act!

He was supposed to be just like his Father, irreverent, charismatic and always getting into trouble, not attentive and antisocial! Hell, he didn't even take the bait and go after the Stone like Dumbledore had expected, instead choosing to go to the one person on the staff who could have changed the traps without alerting him. Dumbledore wasn't very pleased about what Flitwick had done, but the half Goblin had completely ignored his disappointed Grandfather routine and instead had told him that if he wanted to keep a dangerous items in a school, hed better make damned sure that they were properly secured. To make matters worse, it appeared that Flitwick had written to Flamal and the old Alchemist had shown up in a towering rage that Dumbledore would take the Stone and stick it in a school of all places. Yeah, the old man never did get permission to move the Stone, but since when had that stopped Dumbledore? It was for the Greater Good after all.

So yeah, now Dumbledore was down a Philosopher's Stone, his plans for first year was in tatters and he still had to find a new DADA professor for next year. It was safe to say that he was not a happy bunny. Now he had to find a way to either control Brandon or find Harry, neither of which he had any idea of how to start with. And that was a feeling he wasn't used to and didn't care for in the least.

Right, thats the first chapter redone. Since I've basically got the first two years done, I'm going to post them as their own chapters. The other years won't be like that, although thats mainly because I'm skipping the third year due to having literally nothing to do in it and because the story really starts moving in Fourth Year.

So, any ideas what Brandon's mysterious power is? Heres a clue, it has nothing to do with Magic and definitely isnt a Sacred Gear. And no, thats not be being sarcastic. That said, if I were to tell you that you might have already met the Harry of this universe if you read my Vaults, you might be able to guess where I plan to go with this.

And that'll do for this one. Don't forget to leave a review on the way out!