Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I just like messing with J.K. Rowling's characters.

Warnings: There's some minor language in this chapter.

Shoutouts: Thanks to Makurayami Ookami, phantombrick, David Fishwick, Kari Suttle, Caroline the Poet, page693, and WyldePhoenix for reviewing!

phantombrick - In answer to your question, Harry is now a Black and no longer a Potter, so he loses what would have been his inheritance. Besides, with the Black fortune, he doesn't need the Potter one. I wanted to make Harry a Black through and through.

Note: "Speaking" / 'Thoughts'

Last Time: Full and sleepy, they changed into their pajamas, climbed into their beds, and fell asleep. They were finally at Hogwarts.

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning, Harry woke up early and got dressed. He then sat down on his bed and wrote a quick letter for his parents, which he planned to take to the owlery so Hedwig could deliver it, once he figured out where the owerly was.

Eventually, all of the first years were gathered in the common room, and at five 'til eight, Miranda and Lyle joined them.

"We're going to take you to breakfast. Professor Snape will give you schedules and then we'll take you to your first class. After that, one of us will show up after each of your classes to take you to the next one. Understand?"

They nodded.

"And remember," Miranda added, "once we walk out that door, you're representing Slytherin. Don't do anything that would make the rest of us look idiotic."

They exited the common room and walked to the Great Hall. They were the first students there, but the headmaster, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall were already enjoying their own breakfasts.

The first year Slytherins sat together and began helping themselves to toast, eggs, and bacon. Soon, other students began to file into the room, breaking the peaceful silence. Harry also caught his first glimpse of the ghost for Slytherin house, the Bloody Baron.

Once the majority of Slytherins were seated, Professor Snape left the head table and began handing out schedules. When he reached Harry, he gave him a look of supreme loathing before continuing along his way.

"Father was right," Harry said. "He does hate me."

"It's so petty though," Pansy added. "After all, you didn't do anything to him. It's just a rivalry between him and James Potter, which is sad. After all, it's been over a decade."

"Good thing he's not my godfather anymore," Draco said.

Theo said, "Agreed." Then he lowered his voice. "Apparently, he's been spying for Dumbledore. At least, that's what my father thinks. But the Dark Lord's been lying low for a while now, so there's nothing to really spy on."

It was true. Voldemort had gone temporarily underground, even though he was still recruiting here and there. Whenever he decided to reemerge, he would be a lot stronger than he had been before.

They scanned their schedules and most of them groaned when they realized that all of their classes were with the Gryffindors. On Mondays and Wednesdays, they had Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts in the morning, and Herbology in the afternoon. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, they had History of Magic in the morning, and Potions and Charms in the afternoon. Astronomy was on Wednesdays at midnight, and flying lessons would take place on Friday mornings.

At around 8:30, the mail arrived. Dozens of owls swooped into the room, most of them carrying copies of the Daily Prophet.

A few minutes before nine o'clock, Miranda and Lyle gathered the first year Slytherins and led them to the Transfiguration classroom on the third floor. "Be careful," Miranda warned them as they walked. "The staircases move."

Once they reached the classroom, Miranda and Lyle departed for their own classes. When the bell rang at exactly nine o'clock, Professor McGonagall arrived at the door, and seemed pleasantly surprised that they were all already present.

"Please go inside and sit down. I will join you momentarily."

They did as she asked. A few minutes later, a tabby cat meandered its way into the room and climbed up onto Professor McGonagall's desk.

By the time the second bell had rung, everyone was present except for Ron and Dudley. The two boys showed up several minutes later, books in hand, ties askew, and robes falling off their shoulders. Both were huffing and puffing.

"Good thing McGonagall's not here," Ron said. "She'd have our hides for being late."

Suddenly, the cat turned into Professor McGonagall, leaving everyone in the class gaping. "Quite correct Mr. Weasley. Perhaps I should transfigure one of you into a pocket watch. Perhaps then you'd be on time for my class."

"Sorry Professor, we got lost."

"Then perhaps a map? Take your seats. And five points from Gryffindor, each, for being late." Harry smirked. He decided that he definitely liked Professor McGonagall. He raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Black?"

"How does one become an Animagus, Professor?"

"Quite an astute observation, Mr. Black. But that's not something you need to learn now. Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn here at Hogwarts. Anyone failing to take this class seriously will find themselves on the train home. Consider yourselves warned."

She then handed out matches to every student and said, "Today you will work on transfiguring matches into needles. You need to see the shape of the needle in your head, then channel that image through your wand to your match. Begin."

Harry took out his wand, looked around the room, and then transformed his match into a needle. Professor McGonagall caught sight of the glint coming from his desk, and stopped the class.

"Excellent job, Mr. Black. Ten points to Slytherin." She showed everyone how his match had become silver and pointy, and then told the remainder of the class to resume their work.

Draco managed to achieve the transformation seconds later, and earned an additional ten points for their house. They then worked on helping their housemates, and by the end of the class, all of the first year Slytherins had at least managed a partial transformation. Hermione was the only Gryffindor to succeed at all.

They then had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell, which fell way below Harry's standards, especially because he was used to Remus' excellent teaching. Quirrell, a nervous, stuttering teacher, simply gave them an overview of the class before lecturing them on the first chapter of their textbook.

At lunch, they had sandwiches of roast beef and chicken, along with vegetable soup. The Hogwarts house elves were almost as good at cooking as the Black family's elves.

"What do you think of classes so far?" Harry asked Daphne as they enjoyed their lunch.

"Professor McGonagall's a brilliant teacher, but Quirrell's an idiot. I have a feeling we're not going to learn much from him."

After the meal, Lyle brought the six first year Slytherins to the greenhouses for their Herbology lesson. Harry was a little disappointed when Sprout announced that most of their lessons would be lectures that year, but she was still a fascinating teacher.

By the end of the day, Harry was thankful that he didn't have that much homework. Since he had succeeded in Transfiguration that day, he didn't need to work on turning a match into a needle. Quirrell had assigned them to write six inches of parchment on describing the Dark Arts and how to defend against them, something that could easily be achieved by copying his class notes. Professor Sprout had simply asked them to read the first chapter of their textbook and write down any questions they had.

After a scrumptious dinner, Harry approached Miranda and asked, "How do I get to the owlery?"

"Go to the seventh floor and the entrance to the west tower is in the corridor to your left. Just climb the stairs and you'll reach the owlery. Wear something warm, it'll be cold up there. And bring a friend or two in case you get lost."

Harry returned to his friends and relayed Miranda's instructions.

"I'll come with you, I have a letter I have to send to my parents, anyway," Draco said.

They left the Great Hall and went to the dungeons to gather the cloaks, and then they walked up the many sets of stairs to the seventh floor. They found the entrance to the west tower and Harry pulled open the heavy wooden door. They ascended the stone stairs, and soon found themselves being stared at my many pairs of amber eyes.

Harry slipped and slid across the dropping-strewn floor until he found Hedwig. He whistled for her, and when she came down, he tied his letter to her leg and said, "Take this to mother and father."

Draco did the same with his eagle owl. They then returned to the dungeons and did that night's homework before going to bed.

The next day, they had History of Magic. Harry wasn't excited for this class, especially because of what he had heard from the older students. Harry's expectations were correct. Professor Binns droned on and on about the goblin wars, something that Remus had made far more interesting. Hermione was the only one who took notes.

They were free for the rest of the morning, and after lunch, they had Potions. Harry knew that Draco was looking forward the class, as it would be a chance to aggravate his former godfather. Besides, Draco was an ace at Potions

The first year Slytherins were waiting outside the doorway to their classroom immediately after lunch ended. When Snape arrived, they filed inside, sat on the right side of the classroom, and paired up. Harry and Draco sat together, Pansy sat next to Daphne, and Blaise and Theo sat with each other. The Gryffindors entered the room noisily.

THUMP. Snape had dropped a heavy tome onto his desk.

The Gryffindors all jumped and scattered to fill the empty seats, which happed to be on the side of the room opposite the Slytherins.

"Wands away," Snape snapped. "There will be no foolish wand waving in this class. I can teach you how to brew glory, bottle fame, even stopper death. That is, if you're not as dunderheaded as the students I normally have to teach."

Harry almost laughed when he saw that Hermione was practically on the edge of her seat, desperate to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead.

After taking roll, Snape asked with a sneer, "Black, what do I get what when I add powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Draught of the Living Death, sir," Harry answered calmly.

"What's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape ignored the fact that Hermione's hand was reaching towards the ceiling and called on Harry again.

"They're the same plant, sir, which goes by the name of aconite."

"And what color should a boil curing potion be?"

"Orange, sir."

"Ten points to Slytherins," Snape snarled out. He then turned to the board, and with a swish of his wand, instructions appeared on the board. "You have until the end of the period. Go."

Harry scanned the directions and instantly recognized the recipe for...a boil curing potion. Of course. Luckily, he had enough of his own ingredients, so he didn't have to worry about beating the rest of the class to the supply cupboard.

He pulled out his notebook and copied the instructions word for word. And then he frowned. Steps three and five had been switched. From what he had heard about Snape, the man didn't make mistakes. So he was trying to trick them.

Harry snorted. Someone was going to be in the hospital wing by the end of class, he was sure of it.

Soon, things settled down and everyone huddled over their cauldrons in silence while Snape swooped around the room and breathed down people's necks.

'No wonder everyone fails Snape's class,' Harry thought. 'Everyone's so bloody nervous.'

Towards the end of class, Harry felt Snape leaning over his shoulder to inspecting his potion, which happened to be the correct shade of orange. But then there was a loud squelching noise, and Harry looked over to the Gryffindor side of the room.

Dudley had managed to melt his cauldron, and it had turned into a twisted blob of pewter. He had jumped out of the way just in time, and had managed to avoid being splashed by the acid green liquid. The people around him stood on their stools until Snape had siphoned up the mess with their wand.

Once he had finished cleaning up, Snape began to berate Dudley.

"Idiot boy! Don't you think before putting things in your cauldron?" He then spun in Ron's direction. "And you! Didn't you think to tell him not to put in the porcupine quills until he took the cauldron off the fire? Thought it would make you look good, didn't you?"

"I d-d-didn't do anything," Ron managed to stutter out.

"Draco threw something into Dudley's cauldron," Hermione added. "It's not his fault."

Harry surreptitiously glanced at his best friend. Sure enough, a sly grin was forming on Draco's face.

"I didn't do anything, I was too busy focusing on my own potion," Draco said, taking on an innocent look. "Harry, you didn't see anything, did you?"

"No, you were just working on your potion," Harry said, playing along.

The other first year Slytherins chimed in, and all of them declared that Draco was innocent of any wrongdoing.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Snape said. "Put you finished potions in vials on my desk, clean up your stations, and get out of my sight."

The room was a flurry of activity as the first years tried to leave as quickly as possible.

From Potions, they went to Charms with Professor Flitwick. The warm classroom was a welcome change from the dank dungeon, and the cheery attitude of their teacher was an added bonus.

When they entered the room, Flitwick was standing on a stack of books behind his desk. After he called the roll, he announced the lesson for the day. "Today, you're going to learn how to cast a levitation charm."

Harry wanted to laugh. He had learned that charm over a year ago. This would be easier than McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson.

"The incantation is 'wingardium leviosa'. Everyone, say it with me." The class repeated it with him several times. "Now, the wand movement is a swish and a flick. Pick up your wands and try it." Once the class managed to perform the wand movement somewhat accurately, Flitwick passed fluffy, white feathers around the room. "Start practicing."

Harry swished his wand as his feather using the abbreviated version of the wand movement he had learned from Remus. His feather, soon floated high above the heads of everyone in the room, and Flitwick almost toppled off his tower of books in delight.

"Excellent, excellent! Look everyone, Mr. Black's done it."

Harry felt someone staring at him, so he turned around and locked eyes with none other than Hermione Granger, who was glaring at him with poorly disguised envy.

After class, Harry and his friends headed outside to the courtyard. Then they heard Hermione yelling from behind them, "Harry! Wait up."

"Gosh, she really has no manners," Pansy said with a sneer.

But they still stopped and waited for Hermione to catch up. "How did you know the charm in class today?" Hermione asked once she caught her breath.

"It's called a tutor," Draco said.

"Really? Does everyone have a tutor before going to Hogwarts?"

"The people who matter do," Blaise said. She, Daphne, and Pansy then flounced off. The boys followed shortly behind them.

The week progressed, and soon most of the first years were somewhat settled into life at Hogwarts. Harry found their Wednesday night Astronomy class interesting, mainly because Professor Sinistra was an excellent teacher who knew her stuff. Finally, it was Friday and the day of their first flying lesson. Well, it was a first flying lesson for Muggleborns. After all, Harry and Draco had been flying forever. What made the day better is that Harry received a letter from his parents, and Draco had received a care package full of sweets from his mother.

Harry's letter read:

Hello Harry,

We're quite pleased to hear that you've been sorted into Slytherin. We expected nothing less. We both hope that you're enjoying your classes and making plenty of friends. Work hard, and please try not to get in trouble.

Love,

Your Mother and Father

For their flying lesson, first year Slytherins were out on the lawn first, therefore, they found the best brooms and stood next to them. Harry looked at the broom on the ground in distaste. This was the best Hogwarts could afford? The Gryffindors arrived a few minutes before the lesson was due to start, and Madam Hooch arrived right on time.

Hooch gave a short blast on her whistle to get their attention. "Well, what are you waiting for? Stick your hand out to the side and say 'up'."

Harry rolled his eyes in Draco's direction, but obliged their teacher. The broom shot into his hand, and he grinned at the familiar feeling. Draco's broom was in his hand as well. It took their other friends a couple of tries each to get their brooms to jump upwards.

Harry had a good laugh when Ron's broom smacked him in the face on the way up, and he laughed again when he noticed that it was something Hermione couldn't do. Her broom simply rolled over on the ground, apparently refusing to go anywhere near the girl. Eventually, Hooch just told her to pick it up.

"Now," Hooch said. "Mount your brooms. Careful now, you don't want to slide off the back." Everyone mounted his or her broom and then Hooch went around checking everyone's grip. She gave both Draco and Harry nods of approval. "Okay then. On the count of three, everyone push off, gently mind you, and hover for a few seconds. To return to the ground, just lean forward a bit. One...two...three!"

Harry did as he was told, but by glancing at the Gryffindors, it was evident that Neville had kicked off far too hard. His broom seemed to sense his fear, and took the boy on a wild ride that resulting in them crashing into a wall.

"Everyone, on the ground, now!" Hooch commanded. She hurried over to Neville, who was whimpering and holding his arm. "Oh, dear, a broken wrist. Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey will get you fixed up quick enough." She then turned to the remainder of the class. "If any off you leaves the ground, you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch."

"Hey everyone, look what Longbottom dropped," Theo said, swaggering over to a spot of grass. He picked up a clear orb from the ground. "It's a Remembrall. I didn't know he had one."

"Hey, give it back!" Ron said. "He just got it this morning."

"Really?" Blaise said looking at the object in question curiously. "It's pretty rare. It would be a shame if anything happened to it."

"Agreed," Pansy said. "It would be such a shame."

"Come on," Hermione insisted, "just give it back. It's not yours anyway."

Theo snorted. "So, what can you do about it?"

Hermione pulled out her wand, and Ron and Dudley quickly copied her actions.

"Watch where you point that Granger," Daphne said. "You might take someone's eye out."

"I can do magic just as well as you can."

Harry spoke up. "Hey Theo, pass it here." Theo obliged and passed the Remembrall to Harry. "Cool. Longbottom's probably forgetful if he needs one of these, though. He'll probably forget that he even has this."

"We should leave it somewhere for him to find. How about in a tree?" Draco suggested.

"Don't you dare," Hermione said.

"Why not?" Draco challenged.

"'Cause she said so," Dudley said.

"You really shouldn't talk," Harry said. "It makes it quite clear that you're not on the same intellectual level as others."

"Are you calling me stupid?"

"Maybe."

Dudley's response was to punch Harry in the face. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall walked outside just in time to see the result. Blood streamed from Harry's nose, and his eyes had already begun to bruise spectacularly.

"MR. DURLSEY!" The boy paled when he heard his head of house's voice. Once Professor McGonagall approached the group of first years, she said, "Never in all my years...I was coming to tell you that you're dismissed from class. Mr. Dursley, come with me, we're going to have a chat with the headmaster. Mr. Malfoy, please take Mr. Black to the hospital wing so he can get fixed up."

"Yes, Professor."

Although she had addressed Draco, all of the other first year Slytherins formed a protective circle around Harry as they headed inside. When they reached the hospital wing on the first floor, Madame Pomfrey gasped. "What happened, Mr. Black? Mr. Longbottom, you're free to leave. Just be careful from now on."

The other boy nodded and glanced inquiringly at Harry as he left.

"Sit down, Mr. Black," Madam Pomfrey said. "Let me take a look." Harry sat down on a free bed and removed his bloody hands away from his face. "It could be worse, dear. I'll have you fixed up in a jiffy. What happened?"

"Dursley punched him in the face."

"How awful. Now, this may hurt a bit." She tapped his nose with her wand and muttered a spell, and the broken bones slid and snapped back into place. One potion later and the black eyes were gone. And then the nurse tidied up his face and his clothes with a few quick cleaning charms. "How do you feel?"

"Much better," Harry said, allowing a grateful smile to easily slide across his face. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."

"You're welcome. Now run along, it's a nice day, after all."

When they left the hospital wing, Pansy turned to Harry and said, "You can't let that idiot get away with what he did. You're the heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Black, for Merlin's sake."

"Everyone already knows that my family's not one to be messed with," Harry said.

"Well some people clearly don't," Theo said. "You sure you're alright?"

Harry waved him off. "I'm fine. Want to go get our books and head to the library? The sooner we finish our homework for the weekend, the more free time we'll have."

His friends nodded, so they first went to the dungeons, and then to the library to study.

But by lunchtime, the whole school had heard about what had transpired during the first years' flying lesson. Unfortunately, Dudley was present at lunch, but it looked as if the entirety of Gryffindor, except for Hermione, Ron, and Seamus, had shunned him.

"Are you alright?" Miranda asked Harry the moment he reached the Slytherin table.

"Never been better. Madam Pomfrey treated me a matter of minutes."

"I heard there was a lot of blood," Lyle said.

Harry shrugged. "It was worse than it looked. As I said, I'm fine. Now let's just hope my father doesn't hear about this. He'll be furious."

"He probably already has," Miranda said. "Dursley got a couple of detentions and lost thirty points for Gryffindor. Absolutely ridiculous. But according to the Hogwarts charter, whenever a student is physically attacked, their parents have the right to be informed of their child's injuries, the identity of their assailant, and whatever punishment was handed out."

"So my father will be heard in a matter of minutes."

"Correct."

Sure enough, Harry's guess was correct. Halfway through lunch, his father came sweeping into the Great Hall. "Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore sat up in his chair. "Can I help you, Lord Black?"

"You know very well what I want to talk about with you."

"Very well. Maybe this conversation would be best continued in my office."

Harry left the Great Hall with his father and walked with him to Dumbledore's office on the seventh floor. Professor McGonagall and Draco joined them as witnesses.

"So you're telling me that this boy punched my son and heir in the face, and walked away with a slap on the wrist?"

"He got several detentions, and he lost points for his house."

"And you think that that's a suitable punishment, Dumbledore?" Regulus snapped. "Hogwarts is certainly going downhill."

"Please, Regulus, let's be reasonable," Dumbledore said in a grandfatherly voice. "The boy has already expressed remorse for his actions."

"Remorse my arse," Harry heard Draco mutter.

"Very well, but if something like this happens again, I assure you, Harry will no longer attend this school." With that, Regulus bid his son goodbye and left Hogwarts.

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