INTRO
Harry, an abused teen rises up and become a hero? How believable is that? The far more likely scenario is that he would be a socially withdrawn misanthrope. In this story, Harry has avoided doing anything unusual or anything that would draw attention to himself for the first three years of his Hogwarts life. But this is Harry. The universe won't let him be a loser forever. This story is set in Harry's fourth year, as that is the year that trouble comes looking for Harry, instead of vice-versa, but it went AU in his first year.
I wrote the first 3.5 chapters of this story about 3 years ago, then the story sat on my PDA, forgotten. I just went to go sell the PDA, and rediscovered what I had written, and I got sucked back into the HP-Verse. So expect the writing style to change some around chapter 4
'Thinking'
"Talking"
START Harry Potter: Zero
Harry leaned back onto the grass as he listened to the Wizarding Wireless.
"And the crowd goes wild as Krum dives for the snitch, but Flaherty blocks him! Krum goes inverted... but no - he lost sight of the snitch!"
"Oh, damn." Harry let out the breath that he hadn't realized that he had been holding.
"Hey, relax - it's Krum who's playing, not you" Neville replied, sipping his ice tea. The two boys were sitting (well, hiding out, to be more precise) in the small greenhouse behind Augusta Longbottom's home. The house was a rambling mansion that had an air of benign neglect from the outside. The whole estate was old – there were weird old charms on it to squeeze in a 10 acre farm into a space the size of a typical suburban house. What made the charms weird was that they twisted stuff around, so if you didn't follow the paths when you were walking around, you stood a good chance of getting lost for hours.
"Yeah, well, I like quidditch" Harry shrugged nonchalantly, downplaying his interest.
"I keep telling you, try out for the team."
Harry just opened his mouth to reply when there was a roar from the Wizarding Wireless "Garcia has quaffled two goals - that's fifty points for Brazil!"
Harry swore. "How come they don't do that at Hogwarts?"
"Maybe because it's a hard shot to pull off, and the school teams aren't good enough."
"No. It's in the rules - only single goals count. It's because the stupid rules-obsessed board doesn't want the players flying outside the pitch. And that's why I don't want to play at school - it's kiddy quidditch!"
Neville looked skeptical as he finished off his ice tea, "I think you have been listening to too many of those Slytherin conspiracy theories - 'the school board is secretly Legilimensing all the students' and stuff"
"You have admit, some of the rules at Hogwarts don't make any sense." Harry replied defensively, "It's because the school board has secret agendas."
"Harry, we're kids. Just because they don't explain all their rules to us doesn't mean they are super secret or something."
"Well, if you can't explain why you have a rule, It's a bad rule!" Harry pouted.
Neville snorted, then paused to think for a moment, "Maybe your right. About that, anyways."
"Damn straight, I'm right!" Harry crowed.
"But I still think your reason for not trying out for the quidditch team is a cop out. You're just scared you won't make the cut"
"No, I'm not. I could make the team, if I wanted to."
"So do it - you're a good flier."
"Ehh." Harry got up and walked towards the back of the greenhouse.
With a sigh, Neville put his glass down and got up to look at a couple of tall leafy plants that were growing behind a dancing rhododendron. "Are you certain these plants are safe?" He said, gently handling a frond.
Harry ducked under a pair of wildly waving branches to join his friend "Yeah, yeah. All the muggles are smoking it" He looked at the marijuana plants that they had grown from the seeds Harry had stolen from Dudley.
"Then why did you have me plant them way back here?" Neville asked, batting away the rhododendron leaves that were gently whacking him on the head.
"Uhm" Harry thought quick, but nothing came to mind. Fortunately, a voice interrupted them at that point.
"Master, the henbane is harvested and ready to take to market." The speaker was a weedy looking male that looked like a cross between a human and a House Elf. He stood about 5 feet tall and was dressed in clothes that had been stitched together from burlap sacks. Pieces of hay stuck out of his uncombed hair.
"Thank you, Reedy. I will tall Gran."
The young male bowed and disappeared with a faint pop.
Harry scowled "House Elves freak me out."
"Reedy's a Field Elf." Neville replied distractedly - this was apparently an ongoing conversation.
"Yeah, whatever. The way his big eyes seem to look right through you, like your not really there... that's creepy."
Neville shrugged "He's part of the land. Are you going to stay for dinner? If you are, I should go tell Gran so that she can make sure the elves set a place for you."
Harry looked down at his watch. "Nah, I should be getting back. My family expects me back about now." There was a slight pause "Actually, do you mind if I borrow a couple of knuts for the Knight Bus?"
Neville was already reaching into his pocket in anticipation of the request, "sure, no problem"
"Ok, thanks. I'll pay you back at Hogwarts." Harry replied, looking embarrassed.
"Yeah, I know"
*Zero*Zero*
"So your friend didn't stay for dinner?" Augusta Longbottom asked in a disapproving tone as she placed a large slab of meat loaf onto Neville's plate (most of her conversations were carried out in a disapproving tone). The two Longbottoms were sitting in a brightly lit dining room. Unlike the outside of the house, the inside was meticulously clean, though the furniture was rather old and somewhat shabby. It was a very large room for just two people, but Neville was used to it, and was not bothered by the emptiness. Mostly.
"No, Gran" Neville replied mechanically as he took a bite of the bland fare.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Neville. It is unbecoming`" Augusta meticulously sliced a morsel off of her serving and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing, "Why is it that Harry never stays for dinner. You know that a good host makes his guests feel welcome." she mentioned in an accusatory tone.
"I don't know, I think his family is pretty strict with him." Neville had made sure to swallow before replying, this time.
"Do you know this for a fact, or is this your supposition?"
Neville pause to think (and chew). "He doesn't talk much about his uncle, but I got that impression."
"Because?"
"Well, he seems to have a lot of rules to follow." Neville shrugged.
"There is nothing wrong with rules, young man. They keep society functioning." Augusta glanced at her grandson and motioned upward with her hand.
Neville sat up straighter.
*Zero*Zero*
Harry snuck into 4 Privet drive, careful not to make any noise. It was past 11, and the Dursleys were asleep ('Early to bed and Early to rise' was their motto, even though so far it had failed to make them healthy, wealthy or wise), except for Dudley, but he was glued to his computer game and would be until 2am.
Harry quickly grabbed some leftovers from the fridge to fill his growling belly before clearing the table from dinner and then laying out the dishes for tomorrow's breakfast. Last year, Harry had discovered the best way to avoid getting yelled at was to not be home.
Harry opened a new bottle of coke and chugged half of it straight from the bottle before putting it back into the fridge, where the Dursleys were likely to serve it tomorrow. He then put a pinch of salt on all of Petunia's favorite house plants before heading to bed.
*Zero*Zero*
Harry sat bolt up right in bed. It was 6:45 - in 15 minutes Vernon would be getting up to go to work. Harry quickly threw on some cloths and silently tiptoed down the stairs.
Ten minutes later, he slipped out of the house, a bagel in his mouth and one of Dudley's video games in his pocket. The game had been buried under a pile of newspapers in the living room for over a week, so chances were Dudley had forgotten that he even had it. And there was a store at the mall that gave money for used video games. It was an hour's walk away - close enough to be do-able, far enough away that nobody would recognize him.
Harry set off, whistling tunelessly. The day was sunny but cool. It was shaping up to be a nice day. It was his birthday, after-all. He deserved a soda and some candy. And maybe a comic, depending on how much he got for the video game.
This was the way Harry had spent most of the summer: He would do his chores at the Dursleys' (or at least enough of them to placate Petunia) and then find someplace else to be. Most of the time it had worked out pretty well - he would go down to the mall and people watch, or if the weather was rainy, he would borrow an umbrella and head down to the library, which was closer. Harry wasn't a big reader compared to some of his classmates, but with nothing else to do, he had made his way through a lot of light fiction, including some fantasy, which he alternately thought as hilarious or truly stupid.
*Zero*Zero*
The week before school started, all of wizarding Britain was shopping for school supplies. Or so it seemed. Diagon alley was packed with hoards of loudly talking children and their parents.
"Oi, Potter" Harry turned to see Draco and Goyle heading his way. "You survived another summer with the muggles."
"It wasn't so bad. I stayed out of their way, they staid out of mine." Harry shrugged, "we pretended the other didn't exist."
"Maybe that could happen." Draco replied mysteriously. At Harry's confused look, he elaborated, "After the Quidditch World Cup, a bunch of guys went 'muggle bowling', It was bloody hilarious - they had them floating up in the air. The muggles looked like" He made a face with eyes and mouth wide open.
"They were like fish" Goyle added.
"Uhm, did you guys do that?" Harry asked skeptically.
"No, nothing like that" Draco replied quickly, "But we watched it."
"The guys who did it dressed up as You-Know-Who's You-Know-What's" Goyle added.
Draco smacked Goyle upside the head "The doofus means as Death Eaters". He then glanced self consciously, to see if anybody was listening in to their conversation.
As Draco glanced down the road, Pansy Parkinson was coming out of Madam Malkin's "Anyway, I gotta go. I'll see you at Hogwarts. Remember, you owe me 10 Galleons." Draco rushed off.
"No, I don't" Harry replied, confusedly, but Draco was out of earshot already.
Harry sighed and made his way through the crowd towards Gringotts. As usual, as he made his way inside the imposing building, the goblin guards scowled at him, and it seemed to Harry that they hefted their spears to a more alert position.
After waiting an interminable time in line, Harry made it to the bank teller "How may I serve you?" The way the goblin said it, the question sounded like he was thinking of Harry as an entree.
"Uhm, hi." Harry said nervously. The goblin looked through him, like he wasn't there. "I'm here to pick up my educational stipend?" His voice made the statement sound more like a question. For the previous three years, Harry had done this with Hagrid, but after last year's incident with the hippogriff, Hagrid had been been suspended until the start of this academic year, and apparently nobody remembered to come get Harry.
The goblin blinked slowly, "come this way, little human." And led him to a desk off to one side of the large hall. It sat behind a partition, which helped support the mound of papers piled onto it. Another goblin seated there asked him his name and vault number.
After several minutes of flipping through a box of index cards that was far larger on the inside than on the out, the goblin looked up "ah, yes" he muttered and made his way over to a tall stack of filing cabinet behind him. Harry sat quietly, trying not to fidget or draw attention to himself - this goblin looked particularly unfriendly, and Harry's 'prey' instincts were strong.
After a bit more rummaging, he pulled out a small box labeled with Harry's vault number. "Key".
Harry handed over the key, and the goblin opened the box, taking out a small leather pouch of galleons. "The papers in your file say that this is for your school supplies," This was said with casual menace, as if to make it clear that if Harry misspent it, he wouldn't be getting any more. "and that your tuition has been already paid from your vault."
"Thank you" Harry snatched the money and fled.
*Zero*Zero*
Next stop was Flourishes and Botts.
As Harry bought his books for the year, plus a couple of quidditch magazines and "Transforming Potions" - a book on potions that he had overheard the Weasley twins mention in passing. Any potion book that those two trouble makers spoke highly off must be worth a read.
As he was paying for his purchases, he recalled the first time he had seen Diagon alley. Harry snorted 'I was such a kid. Overawed by everything' It was on that trip that he had first met Draco, and been impressed by the supercilious Malfoy scion. To Draco, everything and everybody related to muggles was inferior, and that resonated with Harry.
As Harry made his way back outside with his purchases, he scanned the crowds, trying to find some path through it that would avoid the most people. Not that Harry didn't like people. He did - especially watching them as Draco made his acerbic comments , but being close to so many people he didn't know made him very nervous.
Sometimes, Harry wished that the stores didn't wait until the last minute to get all the school materials in.
As Harry edged around a particularly loud gaggle of children outside Fortescue, Harry almost bumped into Luna.
On the other hand, seeing his acquaintances before the start of school was kind of nice. "Hey, Looney."
"Hello, Harry", the blond girl did not take offense at the nickname, "How are you today?" She tilted her head and looked through Harry. He glanced behind him, but there was nothing there, just a brick wall.
"Uh, fine." Harry was at a loss as to what to say to a girl, even one who he sort of knew. But he didn't want to just keep walking. Luna waited patiently while Harry's mind slipped back into gear, "Uhm, so, did you find any snorkacks?"
"No, though my father and I did a thorough search - we traveled all over England. We started in Cornwall, and made our way up to the Isle of Sky. We did see lots of historical sites on the way, though. Maybe next year, we will look in Europe."
"Uhm, have you checked under your bed? Maybe the Snorkacks are hiding there. You know, where you least expect them" Harry snickered.
"No, Harry," Luna replied, unperturbed, "all that is under my bed is the chastity belt Daddy bought me for my last birthday."
Harry stood, confused, trying to determine how to reply to that statement.
After a moment Luna reached into her purse and handed Harry a piece of string with beads tied into it. "Here, Harry. This charm will keep the Wrackspurts from stealing your thoughts."
Harry took the charm "Uh...m"
"Thoughts are valuable. You should guard yours better." and she went into Fortescue without any further word.
*Zero*Zero*
On his way home, Harry stopped by the park up the street from the Dursleys. On the far side, there was a small copse of trees standing in a gully, and the park cleaners (managers? rangers? whatever) didn't bother with them - there was always a thick covering of leaves and underbrush in the gully. In the gathering gloom, it was almost invisible.
Harry quickly glanced around to make sure nobody was watching. He then ducked down and brushed off some of the leaves, revealing the mouth of a trash-bag. Checking that the area was still dry, he slipped his purchases inside and rolled up the top of the bag, before covering it again with leaves
Harry whistled as he strolled home.
*Zero*Zero*
"Where have you been, boy?" Vernon stood in the entrance to number 4 Privet drive, purple with fury 'though he was often purple', Harry considered. 'Possibly Petunia's fatty cooking was giving him explosively high blood pressure. Maybe one day his head would burst like an over-ripe watermelon?'
Harry shrugged.
"Don't give me any of your attitude!" Vernon roared. he grabbed Harry by the ear and pulled him inside, where he could continue in privacy. "You didn't make dinner! You know your chores. You think we keep you on for free?"
Harry shrugged again and looked at the ground.
"We pay for your food, the least you can do is do your chores, like the rest of us!"
Harry relaxed, relieved that his petty theft last week wasn't the cause of the yelling. Vernon wouldn't hit him over chores. Probably. Sometimes, he thought he should have been sorted into Slytherin.
Vernon continued to rage as Harry sunk in on himself, only half listening. "What do you have to say for yourself?" apparently, the yelling was over.
"Sorry?"
"Where you listening to me, boy?" Vernon yelled again.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied meekly.
Finally, the moment Harry had been waiting for came: "Get out of my sight!" Vernon pointed at the door to the broom closet.
Harry slunk away.
*Zero*Zero*
As the Dursleys ate take out (Petunia had offered to cook, but Vernon had insisted that his poor, put upon wife shouldn't have to work just because their ingrate of a nephew had run off without doing his chores) Petunia asked "So how many more days until HE goes away?" the family sat in the kitchen, Vernon, Petunia and Dudley. Harry was somewhere else. Out of sight.
"Week and a half." Vernon replied around a mouth full of burger.
"Are you going to drive him to the station?"
"I guess." Vernon bit into his sandwich aggressively, "otherwise we'll never be rid of the freak."
*Zero*Zero*
Summer was over.
Thank Merlin.
Harry sat in the train compartment and waited for the Hogwarts express to get under way. The Dursleys had dropped him off early, in as much of a rush to get rid of him as he was to get away. Harry had made his way through the almost empty platform and took a seat by the window in one of the rear compartments.
Now, he sat, watching desultorily as the rest of the students arrived, milling about, yelling to friends and saying good-by to parents.
Several students peered into Harry's compartment, but nobody joined him until a pair of seventh year Gryffindor boys slid in, talking noisily about a sport - Harry didn't bother to ascertain which one as he tuned them out. They were soon joined by several other seventh years, friends of the first two, and soon the lot of them were involved in loud conversation.
Harry leaned onto the window and pretended to sleep as the train pulled out from the station.
*Zero*Zero*
"Greengrass, Alison"... "Slytherin!"
There was a round of applause from the students in the green trimmed robes.
The sorting was in progress, and Harry zoned out. He didn't understand what the point was. Who cared which house the first years were sorted into? It's not like he knew any of them, or would ever interact with them. They should just do the whole thing somewhere else, and let the rest of the students get on with more important things. Like dinner.
Harry thought back to his own sorting.
-flashback
"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall pronounced loudly.
A very small, very nervous Harry Potter made his way to the chair and put the Sorting Hat on.
'Hmm, difficult. VERY difficult. Enough courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh yes. But a crippling fear of being noticed. So where to put you? ' The alien thoughts sounded in Harry's mind 'You're a tricky one. I don't think you would thrive in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, Hmmm... You definitely have some Slytherin traits'The Hat rambled, hoping to see if Harry had any personal preference, but the boy staid silent, awaiting his fate.
'Maybe not Slytherin - your fame would be too much of a liability, so it will have to be'
"RAVENCLAW!"
-end flashback
Moody sat stiffly, watching the sorting assiduously, attempting to glean any information about his prospective students from the Sorting.
He leaned over to Dumbledore "Why does the hat always put siblings into the same house" he asked quietly, "after all, just because one sibling is cunning enough for Slytherin does not mean that they all are."
"Hmmm? Oh," Dumbledore hummed absently, "It doesn't, at least not always. But the well known traits of the houses are not the only factors. For siblings, the decider is often personal preference." Dumbledore glanced at the first years, and continued on. It was possible that the sorting was boring him as well. just a trifle. "And often, the sorting isn't about what traits the child necessarily has, but which ones the Hat wishes to encourage." Responsibility settled back onto the headmaster and he turned his attention back to the Sorting, a vague yet sincere looking smile pasted onto his face.
*Zero*Zero*
"Hey, Harry, wake up and pass the pumpkin juice" Terry Boots leaned past Luna and nudged the other teen, who, as usual, was in his own world.
"Huh? oh, Ok"
"Thanks" Terry took the pitcher , "Hey, if you need any help in Transfiguration, just ask, ok." he added, trying to look nonchalant.
Harry mumbled something that could have been an 'ok'.
Simon Grummin rolled his eyes. The fourth year 'Claw was sitting on Terry's other side, "yeah right" he hissed, "why is he even IN Ravenclaw?"
Terry shrugged, "He's good at potions. And maybe if he came to the study sessions he would do better in the other classes." Seeing Simon's skeptical expression, Terry whispered, "Look, I know you don't like Harry, but I think we should invite him to study with us." Seeing his friend's skeptical look, he added "I just don't want him bringing down the 'claw average."
Harry sat oblivious of the whispered discussion as he shoveled in as much food as he could, while stealing glances at the Gryffindor table. The first day back, he always ate too much, until his stomach was actually painful. But his attention was drawn away from his repast (and glimpses of a certain Gryffindor girl) when the quality of the background sound in the room changed. Harry wasn't certain what changed, but he had developed a sensitivity to subtle cues from living with the Dursleys.
Dumbledore had been making the usual start of the year announcement, and as usual, some students whispered quietly instead of paying attention. But that had changed. Harry tuned reality back in.
"Hogwarts is very proud to be hosting the Triwizard Tournament" Dumbledore was saying, "this prestigious contest will pit schools from across the continent in friendly competition, which will help us all get to know each other better." Dumbledore smiled and looked around the room.
"To that end, workmen will be expanding parts of Hogwarts to accommodate delegation from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, who will be arriving at the end of October." As Dumbledore sat back down, the room exploded into excited discussions
As Harry was finishing his meal, Draco walked by the Ravenclaw table on his way out of the great hall, along with his lumbering escorts. He slowed down as he passed by Harry and made a quick jerk with his head.
Harry bobbed his head, and wolfed down the last couple of bites before staggering after Draco and company.
*Zero*Zero*
"I hope Beauxbatons delegation has a lot of girls. I hear French girls are hot!" Draco was slumped over the back of a chair (he was sitting in it backwards, using the backrest to prop up his arms).
"Yeah. And maybe Durmstrang will too." Crabbe added. "for them, it's going to be like the tropics here. Maybe they'll go naked."
"You every see Bulgarian chicks? They're all fat!" derided Draco and Goyle chortled (or at least he tried to - it came out as more of a giggle).
"Still, no quidditch. That blows" Goyle opinioned.
The three Slytherins plus Harry were hanging out in an unused class room that had become "their" spot.
"So, Potter" Draco, presiding over his court, switched track, "Did you manage to get any of that Mary-Wanna?"
"Yeah, Neville helped me grow it over the summer. We hid it in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."
"So Longbottom is good for something after all" sneered Draco.
"Neville's not so bad." Harry replied weakly.
"He's not so good, either."
Goyle snickered.
"Anyway," Draco decided to save picking on his favorite target until Harry wasn't there. Potter was such a kill-joy. "You can show me the stash after class tomorrow - I want to try some of this Muggle-weed"
"Speaking of class," rumbled Goyle, "what are you taking for electives?"
"Same as last year, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Divination."
"Why on earth are you taking Divination? I can understand the other two, but Trelawney is a complete fraud." Draco rocked on his chair dangerously, but managed to not fall over.
Harry shrugged. He wasn't going to admit that it was so could watch the Gryffindor girls - Lavender and Parvati. In his opinion, they were the pretties girls in his year.
"Is Hagrid teaching Care of Magical Creatures again?" Goyle asked.
"Don't know" Harry shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. He felt bad for Hagrid - he was the only adult he could relax around and be himself. "He may still be suspended."
Draco frowned, "Well, if I have any say in the matter, he would be canned. He's an idiot who brings dangerous animals to Hogwarts. That hippogriff was completely wild! What kind of idiot brings wild animals to a school?" Draco rubbed his arm in memory.
That comment killed the conversation, and the boys sat quietly. Crabbe fiddled with his robes. Goyle picked his ear.
"So, Draco, what are you taking? For electives I mean. You know." Crabbe stuttered out.
"I know what you mean, idiot." Draco smacked the larger boy upside the head, "It's not like I'm some old geezer tanked up on meds."
Harry started to chortle. The other boys looked at him funny.
"It's not that funny, Potter." Draco finally said.
Harry fell out of his chair, trying to hold in his laughter. "Oh, man. sorry." Harry staggered back up once he had control of himself, "I just pictured a conversation between Dumbledore and McGonagall.. 'so what are you taking'" Harry did a passing imitation of McGonagall's accent. He then continued in a lower voice reminiscent of Dumbledore "'Oh, the usual, a little something for my arthritis, some cream for my hemorrhoids, and Viagra for the first years.'" Harry broke into giggles again as the other boys continued to look puzzled, though Goyle looked like he wanted to laugh at the joke. He just wasn't certain which part was supposed to be funny.
"You guys need to take Muggle Studies." Harry shook his head in disappointment at his jokes poor reception.
"Why? There are plenty of wizard jokes." Crabbe responded.
"Yeah, and several of them teach here" crowed Draco. The other boys burst into a gale of laughter. "Speaking of, Potter, you still owe me 10 galleons."
"No, I don't." Harry replied defensively
"Go, on, Potter be a man and pay your debt." Crabbe added.
"Sorry," Harry replied confusedly, "I don't have any money on me."
"Well, then, go get it. We'll wait here" Draco was having a hard time restraining his amusement.
"Ugh, I gotta go. it's almost curfew" Harry fled. Sometimes, Harry felt that Draco was laughing at some joke that he wasn't being included in. Sometimes. He felt like HE was the joke. But at least he was a friend.
*Zero*Zero*
"Here are your schedules" Flitwick was making his way down the Ravenclaw tables at breakfast the following morning. "Anybody who wishes to form a study group can provide me with a schedule and I will post it in the common room"
Harry took his schedule It was about what he expected: Charms, transfiguration, CoMA, SLEEP (this thought was followed by quiet snicker), Divination, Potions, Arithmancy, DADA and mandatory DADA tutoring. Just like last year. The only class he looked forwards to was Potions. The rest ranged from mildly interesting to not-worth-showing up-to. i.e. History of Magic, aka SLEEP (another snicker. Terry gave him an odd look). Hopefully, the DADA tutoring wouldn't completely suck this year. Last fall, the seventh year who did the tutoring was Percy, and that Gryffindor prick was completely humorless, and was on some sort of power trip (or maybe he got a kick out of a Ravenclaw needing tutoring). At least in the spring, he was assigned a Hufflepuff. Cedric was ok.
"So what class do you have first, Harry?" Luna asked.
Harry pulled himself from his musings and looked over in puzzlement at the blond, "Potions."
"Are you taking Arithmancy? I signed up for it as an elective. It sounds fascinating." Luna answered, looking at Harry in her too-direct way.
"Uh-huh." Harry replied as he quickly gathered up his things and fled towards the dungeons.
*Zero*Zero*
"Potter, so kind of you to join us" Snape quipped as he handed out the materials.
"I'm sorry for being late, professor" Harry replied as he slid into the chair next to Ernie Macmillan. He didn't think he was actually late, but it was safer to apologize, Just in case.
"We're making a dreamless sleep potion." Ernie leaned in and whispered, "You cut, I mix" He pushed the cutting board of assorted ingredients over to Harry.
Harry had been partnered with Ernie in potions since first year, when all of the wizarding world had seemed very foreign and strange, and Potions, with its strict teacher, the most intimidating of all. Harry had been grateful to be partnered with the Hufflepuff, who handled the tricky parts while Harry worked as his assistant. They had continued the same way ever since.
Harry's hands started chopping and grinding, while his mind wandered. In Snape's class, that was usually asking for trouble, but what Harry was doing - preparing ingredients - was pretty straight forward, or so Harry found: all you had to do was not skip any steps or take any short cuts - you just did each step thoroughly. It was actually a sort of 'Hufflepuff-ish' task, to Harry's way of thinking. Sometimes Harry thought about asking Ernie to switch jobs, but he never worked up his courage to bring up the topic.
Harry sniffed the Gorepus root, to make sure it was fresh enough. It looked really vile, exuding a greenish-red sap, but the smell was ok, sort of earthy, like potatoes. Harry frowned - the smell was a little too strong. He pushed a little of the root aside, so as not to make the potion too potent.
"Potter, get your face out of the ingredients." Snape snapped from directly behind Harry.
Harry jerked up right, almost spilling his Gorepus. "I'm sorry, sir, but the text book said that you should always sniff Gorepus to make sure its fresh." Harry replied in a weak voice.
"Sniff, not inhale. If you get any of the root on your nose, you will experience an intense burning sensation." Snape chided, thinking of the intense burning sensation he experienced watching the students waste ingredients and burn equipment as they fumbled their way through his class. "Bones! reduce your flame before you..."
FWOOSH!
A ball of fire singed off Susan's eyebrows.
Harry snickered. that would teach her not to add powdered dragon bone while the fire was high.
*Zero*Zero*
"Professor?" Harry approached Snape as the rest of the students filed out, "I found this book over the summer" Harry held out 'Transforming Potions' out to Snape, "I think this is where the Weasley twins get their ideas for their prank items."
Snape looked at the book like it might be booby trapped.
"I am aware of the inspiration of their extra-curricular activities. I was a contributing editor to that volume."
"Oh."
Snape looked up at the idiot child plaguing his prep time. He had had to set out the ingredients for the Gryffindor / Slytherin class, and to ward Longbottoms work area against flames, or chances are he would lose more than his eyelashes. "Is there something else I can help you with, Potter?" Snape tried to stay civil. After all, Potter was one of his more promising fourth year students. Which said more about the general stupidity of the others than any special talent on the part of Potter. It was too bad there weren't any other Potions students on the caliber of the Weasleys. If only they applied there talents in class, instead of outside of it.
"Uhm, I thought you might want the book, to you know, use as evidence to discipline them." Harry stuttered.
Snape rubbed his forehead, "Take your book and go start on your homework, Potter. I don't have time for this." If he hadn't wanted the bloody Weasleys to HAVE the book, he wouldn't have BLOODY well left it out where they could find it. And it took him almost a whole month to get those idiots to 'steal' it. All because they wouldn't accept help from a Slytherin. Stupid bigoted children.
What he put up with in the name of teaching Potions.
*Zero*Zero*
"Hey, Harry, I hear you enjoyed Arithmancy." Crabbe snickered.
Harry looked up from his homework. He was in his usual corner of the library, where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. Usually. Crabbe and Goyle where looming next to his table.
"I, what?" was Harry's erudite response. He preferred to study in the library rather than the Ravenclaw Common room, because here he wouldn't feel like the odd man out of the 'Claw study groups - after all, 'two heads are better than one', and the Ravenclaws used whatever resources they could to excel. Since they had the reputation as being the smartest students, it would be really embarrassing if they didn't get the top marks.
"You know, the new professor, Gwendolyn Volupta?" Crabbe made a curved jester in front of his chest, "The one you spent all of class staring at?"
Harry flushed beat red, "Uh, guys I need to finish some homework for next period." Harry hunched over the table. 'Please go away. Please go away'. This was Harry typical mantra when dealing with Crabbe. If Vincent wasn't attached like a remora to Draco's side, Harry would have avoided the larger boy like the plague. He reminded him too much of Dudley.
Crabbe, obviously enjoying the effect he had on the Ravenclaw, was about to say something further when Goyle interrupted, "See you in DADA, Harry."
As the pair walked off, Crabbe called, "Now we know who to set you up with on a blind date."
*Zero*Zero*
That evening, conversation was buzzing around the great hall - about the Triwizard Tournament, about classes, but mostly about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everybody had an opinion. Some student loved the way Moody was teaching it. Others thought he was a little... rough.
"I can't believe that he's crazy enough to be teaching us the Unforgivables!" Andrew Goldstien was appalled.
"He's not teaching them, he's just teaching us how to defend against them." Simon replied, exasperated. The two boys were sitting several seats away, on the opposite side from Harry, but their conversation was loud enough to dominate the table.
"Actually, there is no defense against the Unforgivables" Luna piped up from right behind Harry, startling him into snarfing his pumpkin juice. Neville, who had joined his friend for dinner, whacked Harry on the back as Luna took the seat on his other side.
"Incorrect. Miss Lovegood." The Ravenclaw prefect called from down the table. "There are several defenses. The simplest is to conjure an obstacle into the curse's path. But I will let Professor Moody explain." the boy turned back to his conversation with his girlfriend.
"Good going, Looney" hissed a third year 'Claw as he elbowed Luna "You do that in class, and you'll end up losing us points."
Luna shrank in on herself and she poked at her dinner. At least it wasn't obscene. 'Really, who's idea was it to feed something called 'Spotted Dick' to pubescent boys? Their brains were already so flooded with hormones that all their thought were about 'that'. Not even Wrackspurts would bother trying to steal their thoughts. They were too icky.' She glanced up to see where Harry was looking.
Harry was talking to Neville, "I think Simon is right - we need to experience the Unforgivables so that we know how to deal with them."
"Harry, you don't _survive_ some of the Unforgivables" Neville gently chided his friend.
"Well, you know what I meant. Like what's-his-name said," he waved his hand in the general direction of the Ravenclaw prefect, almost smacking into Luna, "we need to know how to block them."
"I guess we're about to find out, " replied Terry, standing up, "It's class time"
Hello all, thank you for reading my story.