The first week of classes was beyond enjoyable for Harry. Being in school brought back all the fond memories he had of Hogwarts before the war began and some of the hard ones. It was odd to walk down the hallways and see people who died in his world happily walking around in this one. To walk by a young and carefree Hannah Abbot when the last memory he had of her was when she was being ripped apart by Greyback's pack was difficult. Or to sit behind Terry Boot in class when the last time they spoke Terry was bleeding out with his intestines sitting beside him.
But going to classes was quickly becoming one of his favorite things to do; he could easily rack up the Gryffindor house points with his extensive knowledge of the subjects. But he needed to be careful when to expose his knowledge as not to show too much talent. He had nearly piqued the suspicion of Professor McGonagall when he flawlessly transfigured a match into a needle on his first try while it normally took a student nearly a day to accomplish it. He smoothly explained that his father had been showing him a few tricks the past few months, halting her questioning but still keeping a subtle eye on the first year.
Only Harry and Hermione managed to accomplish the task in class, and when they received praise for it Neville became determined to best them which caused him to accidently light the match which then tripled in size and burnt through half of his robes. Even though Neville was proving himself to be a complete prick, Hogwarts still loved him and his fans still followed him around like a sick puppy.
It made Harry slowly start to lose respect for his fellow Gryffindor's, but he needed to remind himself every once in a while that they were only eleven years old. Friendships and allegiances can change at the drop of a hat and people change too. But as Harry and Hermione were walking by a corridor heading to the dungeons they caught sight of three boys surrounding a much smaller boy who looked to be in Ravenclaw. The ringleader's platinum blonde hair was a dead giveaway. In some cases people never change.
"Three on one Malfoy? Or do you just have your monkey's do all the dirty work for you?"
Malfoy turned around with a sneer, "Oh well if it isn't Saint Potter, and his Mudblood girlfriend." Crabbe and Goyle snorted loudly behind him. Hermione gasped slightly at the slur as she finally knew the meaning behind it, Harry made eye contact with her briefly before quickly taking out his wand.
Before the bumbling Slytherin's were even able to comprehend what was happening Harry swiftly disarmed all three of them. Their wands shot to his hand and he brought them up toward his mouth and whispered an unknown enchantment. With a clank he dropped them on the ground, the wands rolling in different directions.
"Talking to wands now Potter? Or are that just the effects from having a Mudblood mother?" Malfoy spat.
"That doesn't even make sense." Harry rolled his eyes.
As Malfoy and his goons bent down to pick up their wands, the wands suddenly came to life and began to run at an ungodly speed away from the Slytherins. They were weaving in and out of students legs, climbing on the walls, and jumping out of windows. The boys quickly gave chase as the entire hallway full of students laughed at their expense as they desperately tried to capture their wands.
Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders as he led her to class and called back to them. "Class starts in five minutes; you better get a move on." Hermione smiled as he opened the door for her to wait for the first Potions class to begin. Professor Snape gave his normal threatening introduction and the torture began.
"Ah, yes," Snape said as his vulture like frame hovered over Neville's desk, "Our new celebrity."
The man gave the Gryffindor's a menacing look while the Slytherin's sniggered at their rival's misfortune. Snape's dark eyes scanned the rest of the classes uncertain faces until he met eyes with one who gave him such a defiant look that it made him look twice.
He instantly recognized that ridiculously messy black hair, arrogant grin and high cheekbones that were no doubt passed down from the man whom Snape hated with every fiber of his being. But it was the boy's eyes that Snape looked at the closest, almond shape and the darkest color of emerald green possible. Those were Lily's eyes, and he was James Potter's son.
And that was all Snape needed to know for him to decide to make the Potter boys life a living hell. Or so he thought. But first he would begin with Longbottom, the precious Boy-Who-Lived and the easiest target.
"Longbottom! What would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape asked suddenly.
Neville immediately began to stutter and blinking rapidly.
"Don't know? Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a Bezoar?" The Slytherin's were cracking up in the corner, imitating Longbottom's stunned face.
Hermione who was next to Harry began to wave her hand madly in the air. Harry immediately caught her arm and gently placed back it on the desk causing her to glare at him, "You'll thank me later." He said under his breath.
"In the F-forbidden forest?" Neville said meekly.
"Incorrect! Ten points from Gryffindor. Tell me Mr. Longbottom, you thought you wouldn't need to open a book before coming to my class eh?" Snape sneered.
Neville didn't answer; instead he was giving Snape a look of pure fury. Harry half expected the boy to retaliate and threaten to tell the minister of his mistreatment but Neville seemed smart enough in this sense to keep his mouth shut.
Harry grinned slightly and hoped this would help knock the chosen ones ego down a notch or two. But Snape caught Harry's gaze a second later, "And how about you, Mr. Potter? That ridiculous grin on your face tells me you might know." Snape sneered menacingly.
Wanting to get on Snape's good side for at least this portion of the year Harry answered calmly, "When powered root of asphodel is infused with wormwood it creates a sleeping potion so powerful, it is called the, 'The Draught of Living Death.' As for a Bezoar, it is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons, Professor Snape." Harry said the last part in a very respective tone while gagging on the inside.
Snape gave Harry an unreadable expression and announced out loud. "Correct, but that's not enough to gain points in my classroom Potter. Answer this: What are the key ingredients for the Werewolf potion, Wolfsbane?" Snape crossed his arms and waited for an answer with a slight sneer.
Harry inwardly frowned. Wolfsbane was a 6th year curriculum subject, but Harry not wanting to let Snape get the best of him while still wanting to remain on his good side answered, "The key ingredients are Moonstones and the hair of a Werewolf."
Harry only remembered the potion because he wanted to learn how to make it for Remus to help him with his transformations.
Snape nodded approvingly while staring at Harry deeply, "Five points to Gryffindor. You seem to inherit your mother's potions skills." Snape said turning around back to the board and began the class lesson for the day, however Harry heard him murmur, "Unlike your father, who had other skills."
During the rest of the lesson Snape took fifteen more points away from Neville and after questioning Harry at least three more times he finally left him alone.
Later at lunch in the great hall Hermione gasped loudly.
"Hermione what's wrong?" Harry asked. She said nothing but reached over to give him the Daily Prophet. When Harry read the article, he had to remind himself again to watch Quirrell carefully. He didn't want to break his cover so early in the game or arouse any suspicion.
The following week Harry noticed that Neville and Malfoy were at each other's throats again in the Transfiguration courtyard. And Malfoy, who thought it was a good idea to pick on Hermione when she tried to stop the fight, learned a big lesson in keeping his mouth shut.
With a great Bang! Draco Malfoy flew back against the wall and slid down it as Harry raged, "I don't give a damn if you're a Malfoy or a Pureblood. Muggleborns, Half-bloods, and Purebloods, we're all the same. We have all magical power and our blood means nothing to our strengths. You want to compare fathers and blood? My father is an Auror Captain of the Magical Law Enforcement while yours is a good for nothing racist that does nothing but sit on his ass and make deals with a corrupted Minister."
Harry resumed speaking. "This is my final warning Malfoy. If you try to bully anyone else about their blood again you're going to have to go through me. Got it?" Harry said in a menacing tone that would have made even Voldemort proud.
Malfoy struggled to get up from the floor, turning red from humiliation and a voice full of malice, "You'll regret this Potter."
"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall shouted from outside her classroom door. Harry slowly turned towards the absolutely furious professor, trying to keep his own temper in check. It wouldn't do if he were to blow up the entire hallway from an unwanted magical surge.
Professor McGonagall reached Harry in the courtyard and screeched, "Mr. Potter, 50 points from Gryffindor as well as detention for attacking a student!"
Harry didn't mean to openly shrug but he couldn't help it, points were nothing to him and he had much larger issues than house points. Plus they were leading by a hundred points anyway and if need be he could earn them back in a day. Putting Malfoy in his place was well worth the trouble, but when he saw Malfoy arrogantly grin at his misfortune he couldn't help but adding, "Are you not going to deduct points from Slytherin as well?"
She gave him firm look and spoke sharply as she conjured a stretcher, "Mr. Malfoy. For calling Ms. Granger an ignorant slur, 50 points from Slytherin and an apology note to Ms. Granger which I will oversee."
Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but stopped as he gasped in pain when he was lifted onto the stretcher. As Harry walked away with Hermione close behind him, she grabbed his arm stopping him in his place. "Harry! You shouldn't have attacked him like that. In front of a Professor no less! You don't have to defend me just because he called me that…"
But Harry cut her off with a shake of his head, "Purebloods like Malfoy disgrace the name of wizardry, one day… in a thousand years, the Purebloods will be extinct. Soon enough, they will be marrying their brothers or sisters in desperation. They don't understand how life works here in the real world. As for defending you, you're my friend and no one is going to talk to you that way."
Hermione smiled, she never had anyone come to her defense like that. Even the teachers in grade school never attempted to stop the bullies who were just relentless.
Both of them turned when they heard clapping from a slight distance and stopped short when they saw it was Dumbledore, "Ah, you have loyalty that would make even Godric Gryffindor proud Mr. Potter, 20 points to Gryffindor for combating the discrimination of Muggleborns and loyalty to a friend."
Harry didn't even react to the headmasters praise nor did he trust Dumbledore the slightest bit in this dimension. And his reasons for not trusting him were only strengthened when he felt a force trying to penetrate his mental barriers, which Harry instantly responded by pushing back with just as much force.
For the first in his life Dumbledore looked truly shocked. The twinkle was momentarily gone and it was kind of funny.
"I see you have learned the arts of Occulmency. Quite surprising for someone your age." Dumbledore said, the twinkle returning with a vengeance.
"It's one of the highest levels of defense. I take pride in defending myself."
Dumbledore nodded as he slowly walked even closer to Harry, "Mr. Potter, learning Occulmency on your own is truly a magnificent accomplishment. It is also illegal." Dumbledore said seriously.
Harry smirked at the scare tactic, "Actually Headmaster, what I read in the Law Enforcement was that it is illegal to use Legimency on people. Not creating your own mental barriers against it."
Dumbledore smiled again, intrigued at this first year before him. The boy was quite impressive and very talented at such a young age. He heard from Minerva how the student defended his friend and shot a powerful bludgeon spell that knocked another across the hallway.
Across the hallway…
Every hallway at Hogwarts has the distance of at least 25 meters or more and that took a considerable amount of power for even a full grown wizard to conjure. Harry Potter was also the same student in which all the teachers were talking about this past week. He was advanced in every subject, except History, but who wasn't? He was informed that the child was a rare prodigy…
To have such power and intelligence at such a young age was unheard of. It didn't hurt that he was the other possible child involved in the Dark Lords Prophecy. He was definitely going to recruit him into the Order of the Phoenix should Voldemort ever rise to power again, if nothing but to be safe.
"Well Mr. Potter, I'm here to tell you your detention with McGonagall is tonight at 8:00. Do not be late." He said smiling down at the student before retreating into the school.
At the end of day, it was all over school that Harry humiliated Draco Malfoy who was one of the most respected Purebloods from Slytherin house. Malfoy would not even look at him in the eye for the rest of the week, holding his bandaged but newly healed broken arm in a sling.
The class Harry was looking forward to the most had finally arrived. Flying lessons…
Hermione was of course worried. Though she had not said anything, he knew from his old dimension that she was deathly afraid of heights and to be honest anyone who didn't grow up around brooms had every reason to be. In the muggle world a person's feet were meant to be on the ground.
Neville was loudly boasting about his flying skills to everyone in the great hall. Even Malfoy had his own little group of Slytherin's surrounding him, eagerly listening to his Quidditch stories.
Malfoy seemed to take the little incident they had to heart and was keeping clear of Harry and especially Hermione. But Harry knew better though, Malfoy always tended to regather some courage and would have a go at it again. It was only a matter of time before there would be another confrontation. Oddly enough Harry received a good amount of praise for his stance against Malfoy from other houses including Slytherin. Even Blaise Zabini who was a very stoic for a first year congratulated Harry on knocking Malfoy down a peg or two. The Zabini family was one of the most respected Pureblood families, like the Potters. The family tended to be neutral towards the pureblood stance against Muggleborns, not vocally against it but not for it either. In Harry's opinion they did it purposefully to reap the benefits of being on both sides. But now Harry and the young heir were quickly becoming acquaintances. Which was perfect in Harry's opinion, the more friends you make the more connections you have.
Harry noticed at breakfast that Neville had just received an expensive Remembrall from his parents and was boasting about his good fortune. Harry seriously wondered if Neville was going to keep doing that all year because it was getting really annoying.
Harry wondered how he was going to be put on the Quidditch team this year without Neville freaking out and pulling his connections with the ministry to get on the team as well. He wondered if maybe he should wait until next year and tryout like every other normal student.
"For the last time Mr. Longbottom. First years cannot join the Quidditch team." Madame Hooch said heatedly to a desperate Neville Longbottom before ordering them to stand next to their brooms.
"Now, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick and put your right hand over your broomstick and say 'UP!'"
Everyone did just so and Harry's was the only one that came up during the first call. Neville and Malfoy shot Harry a nasty look which he ignored. Other students were slowly getting the gang of it but Hermione and a couple Muggleborns weren't having any luck at all. Harry walked over towards the small group, "Don't try to command it. Try to feel it, the broomstick isn't just a thing… it's like a living creature with emotions. Try again."
"Up!" Hermione shouted, and that was all she needed as the broom instantly went into her hand.
Hermione smiled wide, "Thank you Harry."
Hermione eyes drifted over his shoulder and as he turned around Madame Hooch was standing right behind him looking thoroughly impressed.
"Mr. Potter, you seem to know a great deal about flying. Funny, I heard your father tell me not long ago that you have no interest in Quidditch."
"Not necessarily, I do prefer to read more than I used to but I love to play just as much." Harry lied smoothly.
She gave him a long look before turning back around and starting to help everyone control their brooms. When she was done, she barked out. "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard, keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly, on my whistle, three... two… one!" She blew it hard.
Some people managed to float of the ground a little bit. While Hooch was helping some other students, Harry saw Neville and Malfoy talking heatedly a few feet away. Then all of a sudden both of them took off with Neville right on Malfoy's tail. Madame Hooch immediately demanded them to return but they were long gone, but the next thing you know, Malfoy kicked Neville who was attempting to grab his robes. Neville lost his balance and fell to the ground hard, a sickening crunch signally he had broken his wrist.
"Déjà vu…" Harry murmured, leaning against his broom. Hermione gave him a quick glance.
"Mr. Longbottom! Mr. Malfoy! How dare you two fly that high without authorization and a deliberate attack? Detention for the both of you." Hooch screamed as she ran over to the whimpering Neville.
Malfoy just sneered when he flew back down as Hooch continued, "Mr. Malfoy you will remain here, I'll deal with you later. I'm bringing Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing. If I see any of you in the air, you will get detention for a month."
Everyone nodded in unison while Harry was watching Malfoy's demeanor. He seemed calm but had a grip of something hidden from sight. 'This is just too convenient.' Harry thought.
When Hooch left, Harry could hear Malfoy taunt about how Neville's bragging when he wasn't even a good flyer to begin with. To Harry's surprise, Ron stood up to him which Malfoy immediately laughed at insulted and then he flew off with the Remembrall.
Before Ron could fly off, Harry put his hand on the broom.
"Don't Ron, let me handle this." Harry said with an even voice, Ron looked at a loss of what to do and simply took a step back as Harry darted from the ground amidst Hermione's protest that he shouldn't.
"So, Potter, you may be strong, but can you fly?" Malfoy mocked.
Harry didn't even flinch, "I don't have time for little games Malfoy. Give me the Remembrall and we'll forget about this."
"I bet you can't fly. Let's see if you can catch?" Malfoy mocked again but had a slight tone of fear in his voice, and before Harry could respond Malfoy threw the Remembrall high into the air.
In an instant Harry was flying past him at brink neck speed. He caught it just like last time only just inches from the ground before getting off his broom as if it were nothing. The crowd of students started to rush towards him but before he could say anything, he heard McGonagall scream. "Harry Potter!"
Harry inwardly winced and murmured, "Definitely Déjà vu..."
"Never… in all my time at Hogwarts…" She trailed off, looking speechless. She continued, "You could have broken your neck… what would your mother say?"
Harry immediately felt like his stomach dropped to the ground and inwardly groaned. She just had to mention his mother, he might even get howler for this stunt. While he was beginning to think about his family's reaction to this his friends from every house spoke up to defend him including some Slytherins much to McGonagall's surprise
"Enough, Mr. Potter, follow me, now." She said evenly and Harry winced. For some reason, she sounded even sterner than he remembered.
"Ron, give this to Neville." Harry said as he passed the angered crowd. Ron nodded mutely and internally was kind of pissed. Harry didn't even get along with Neville and yet he went to go get the Remembrall for him. But as Harry continued to follow McGonagall inwardly he had a good feeling on what was about to happen even though she kept looking back to give him a look he couldn't decipher.
Talking to Wood was interesting to say the least.
"Potter you say? Your father is James Potter right?" Wood said excitedly.
Harry nodded and Wood whooped loudly, "Wow, the son of the legendary star player James Potter. You know your father was asked to play for almost every Quidditch team in Europe. Ireland and Bulgaria even sent coaches and some of the professional team mates to try to convince him to play!"
Harry was speechless; he had no idea his father was that good. And he couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't gone on to play professionally. Maybe the war stopped him from achieving his dreams?
"Yeah." Woody said excitedly. "But since I have a free period, let's see what you're made of!"
Thirty Minutes Later…
"Merlin's beard, we're definitely going to win the Quidditch cup this year! You're not just good at Seeker, but Chaser as well!" Wood had the manic glint in his eye that appeared whenever he thought Gryffindor was going to win.
"Tell me… does your brother and sisters play just as good?" Wood asked eagerly. Harry smiled and told him all about their skills. Harry had to admit, Sakura and Rosa as talented beaters as the Weasley's! And Leon was unstoppable as a Keeper. Only their father managed to score on him. Sylvia… well… by the looks of it, she looked like she wanted to be a Chaser.
"Anyway, we're going to have practice next week. I'll give you the details later Harry!" Wood said and nearly skipped his way off the Quidditch pitch.
"All right then." He shook his head, in awe of how invested Wood would get in the game. Harry began to wander around the abandoned lower part of the castle deep in thought about Quidditch.
He had been asked relentlessly by Ireland and France in his 6th year to join their reserve Quidditch team when he had decided to quit from the Hogwarts team that year. He was worried about the war instead of a game, and while he loved it there were bigger issues at hand. France didn't even want him as a Reserve Seeker but on the actual team itself. He had to admit, he was pretty close to accepting their offer after Fleur attempted to convince him to join. But he told her finally that if there were any chance of him playing it would be after the war, and only then he wouldn't mind joining them. He also heard rumors that by becoming a Quidditch Player for France they received huge benefits. Harry never knew what Fleur meant when she said it, but by the way she was eyeing him he had a pretty good idea.
A breeze from the lake gave Harry a chill and he pulled his robes tight to his body. Realizing how late it was as the sky was turning bright red from sunset Harry departed for the kitchens. He didn't want to face dinner with the whole Gryffindor table asking him a million questions on what happened today.