Chapter 154: Clear Rules
Embarrassing. Extremely embarrassing.
While Roger Davis was undeniably unreliable, Harry had to admit—Roger had played a part in making him the Seeker in the first place.
After the match, Harry mentally replayed every moment, reassessing things. The two Beaters, whom he'd initially thought were bumbling or even sabotaging the match, had actually been following a specific strategy. Their aggressive Bludger play—knocking the iron balls out of reach—was a pre-emptive tactic. It had worked on Hufflepuff.
It turned out, this was a tactic—formulated by Roger himself after studying Hufflepuff's usual patterns. The problem was… Roger hadn't told Harry. Roger had always looked down on positions other than Chaser or Seeker, and since Harry joined late, the plan was never explained.
The real issue with Roger was deeper. He trained too little, relied too much on flair, and worst of all—he loved being in the spotlight. He obsessed over tactics and loved executing "brilliant plays"—even when they were unnecessary or counterproductive.
Now, in the aftermath, Harry couldn't help but feel it was his fault Roger got kicked off the team.
"Come off it, Harry," Ron said through a mouthful of eggs at breakfast, noticing Harry picking at his toast. "Roger Davis is a walking disaster. Even if some of his ideas worked, the guy literally blocked his own Seeker—you!"
"And don't forget," Ron continued, "he completely ignored the Keeper. Did he even have a plan for the Keeper?"
"This was Johnny's decision, not yours," Ron added, trying to reassure him. "You just did your job. Caught the Snitch, won the game. That's it."
Roger himself had approached Harry after the match—awkward but sincere—and apologized. He admitted his errors and, to his credit, accepted Captain Johnny's judgment without protest.
Alexander Smith, who'd remained quiet during most of this, finally sighed and muttered, "He's just too young."
He was thinking about how things had diverged from the original timeline.
In Alexander's previous world, Johnny had not withdrawn early. He had stayed on as Ravenclaw captain throughout the season, reining Roger in, giving him space to grow. That season, without Harry on the Gryffindor team, Ravenclaw had defeated them—ultimately allowing Slytherin to swoop in and steal the Quidditch Cup.
As a result, Roger, in Harry's eyes, had never seemed that bad.
But now, because of Johnny's early exit, Roger had been made captain too soon. He wasn't ready. He couldn't adjust to having a Seeker as good as Harry on his team. He tried to center everything on himself.
Still, Alexander had to admit: Ravenclaw's players were surprisingly disciplined. They didn't argue much—just followed orders, even when those orders made little sense. The most surprising of them all was Dennis, the Beater who had taken matters into his own hands. He'd literally knocked Roger out of the sky to clear the path for Harry.
But now wasn't the time to reflect. Harry was clearly in a mood.
"Hey, Harry," Alexander said casually, his voice slipping into Harry's mind through their magical connection. "You ever wonder where your last name came from?"
Harry blinked. "You mean Potter?"
"You mentioned Peverell before," Alexander continued. "But the name Potter didn't come from them."
"Oh right… You said I was descended from the third brother," Harry thought aloud.
"That's true," Alexander confirmed. "But Potter isn't a Peverell name. It came from a wizard named Stinchcombe Linfred, a 12th-century eccentric who lived near Godric's Hollow. People used to call him 'the Potterer' because he was always tinkering—mixing potions, experimenting."
"He invented Skele-Gro and Pepper-Up Potion, you know. Your natural knack for Potions might be part of his legacy."
"Linfred's eldest son, Hardwin, married a young witch named Iolanthe Peverell—the granddaughter of Ignotus Peverell. Since Iolanthe was the eldest heir and there were no male descendants, she inherited the Invisibility Cloak."
"And ever since then," Alexander added, "the Cloak has been passed down through the Potter family—always to the eldest son."
Harry's eyes lit up. "That's how the Cloak came to me…"
"I figured a bit of history would distract you," Alexander admitted with a small smile.
But then his voice turned thoughtful. "Also… you're not the only Potter who survived."
"What?" Harry sat up. "I have relatives? Then why didn't Dumbledore send me to live with them?"
"Well… they're very distant," Alexander explained. "More than three hundred years ago, a branch of the Potter family emigrated to America. One of their descendants was Abraham Potter. He became one of the first twelve Aurors appointed by the Magical Congress of the United States—MACUSA—right after it was founded in 1693."
"But they're not descendants of Ignotus Peverell. They have no claim to the Deathly Hallows. You do."
Alexander hesitated, then continued, "That's probably one reason Dumbledore kept the Cloak with you. It's… a bloodline thing."
He had only recently confirmed this detail.
For the longest time, Alexander had struggled to understand why the Peverell taboo existed—why descendants weren't supposed to harm one another. He'd always assumed it had something to do with surnames, or some secret pact.
But once he learned about the American Potters, things began to click.
The rule was never about surnames—it was about Hallows and inheritance.
The Elder Wand was passed down through the Longbottom family. Its current heir was Neville. But a fluke of fate—a twin birth—caused instability. One of the twins had changed his name to Smith and had begun studying alchemy, keeping the wand's legacy hidden.
The Resurrection Stone had passed through the Gaunt family, making Voldemort its last known heir.
The Invisibility Cloak, of course, belonged to the Potter line—specifically to Harry.
That meant Harry, Neville, and Alexander were all heirs of Peverell.
And Voldemort?
He, too, was of the Gaunt line. But he had killed James Potter and attempted to kill Harry, violating the taboo of blood—the ancestral rule that Peverells must not kill their own.
That explained so much. The Horcrux backfire. The prophecy twist. Why Voldemort could never understand the Cloak or feel the true pull of the Deathly Hallows.
He never even realized Harry was his Horcrux.
"Alexander?" Harry thought, looking at his friend, who had gone oddly quiet.
"Oh—nothing. Just thinking about ancient family trees. Feeling better?" Alexander replied, voice returning to normal.
"Yeah… I guess I am," Harry thought, finally reaching for his toast.
Alexander nodded and stood. "I'll head back to the common room."
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Ron, watching the quiet exchange at the Gryffindor table, blinked.
"...Didn't even say anything," he muttered, taking a bite of chicken. "So why does Harry look like he just figured out a life mystery or something?"
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(End of Chapter 154)
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