Harry's first morning at Hogwarts was going very well, he decided. Sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, eating a breakfast that had managed to somehow be better than the dinner food from the night before, the young wizard was just feeling good about how things were going. It would have been impossible for him to suppress the warm feeling of contentment swelling up inside even if he had wanted to, which he very much did not. He was at Hogwarts, he was away from the Dursleys, and he'd already made friends.
The enchanted ceiling above showered the tables in a warm morning sunlight that went very well with the small stack of perfectly prepared bacon and the assortment of jellied toasts that Harry was digging into. To one side of him was the end of the long table, and to the other was Seamus Finnegan, who was talking animatedly with a second-year about that sport called Quidditch. Harry listened in for a bit, but much of the jargon flew over his head, the briefing on the subject that Ginny had enthusiastically given him the day before not proving helpful. At the thought of the red-haired witch, Harry looked up from his meal, for a third time intending to try and find her in the breakfast crowd. Again to his disappointment, he found that she hadn't shown up yet, though none of the first-year Gryffindor girls had. It would probably just be a matter of waiting, he decided, and then went back to his food.
With a bite of toast between his teeth, Harry found himself looking at Neville, a thought having just crossed his mind. "You said you live with your grandmother, didn't you, Neville?"
Neville seemed startled by being asked a question. "Uh, yes, I do," he answered.
"Why?" Harry asked innocently. Neville's face paled at the question, causing Harry to worry if he'd said something wrong. "I'm just wondering," he added. "I grew up with my aunt and uncle, because, um, you would know, I suppose."
"Oh," Neville muttered. "Yeah."
Harry got the feeling that the other boy really didn't want to discuss the subject, so he went back to food. Just as soon as he had another bite in his mouth, the doors to the hall swung upon, the rest of the first-year Gryffindor spilling through. Ginny, Harry saw to great disappointment as well as surprise, was not among them. He looked over the group twice, thinking that maybe she was behind one of the others and just physically blocked from sight, but it quickly became obvious that Ginny, as well as her mane of red hair, was nowhere in the area.
"Hey, Hermione!" Harry called out to the other girl from the previous day's train.
She jumped at the sound of her name, startled, but then turned to Harry with a friendly smile. "Yes?" she asked, eyes wide and weirdly eager.
"Um," Harry stumbled, "do you know where Ginny is? She hasn't been down here, I thought she'd be with all of you."
"Oh," Hermione frowned. "She went back to get her wand from the dormitory. I suppose she left it behind, though I'm not sure why she'd need to have it at breakfast."
"So she should be down here pretty soon?" Harry continued.
Hermione nodded and went to join the rest of the girls, leaving Harry alone and waiting for Ginny to get down. Minutes went by, and she didn't show. A conversation with Dean soon distracted Harry from his vigil, with the two boys speculating about what how their classes would go, what it all would be like.
Professor McGonagall arrived at their spot of the table soon enough, emerging from nowhere and startling both Harry and Dean. In her arms she held a short stack of parchments. "Here are your schedules," she said, warmly and with a smile that seemed a bit ill-fitting for her stern features. "Your first class at Hogwarts will be Transfiguration, with me."
"Lucky us?" Seamus joked, actually earning himself a chuckle from his Head of House.
"Lucky you," McGonagall confirmed.
When Harry grabbed his own schedule, he thought to ask McGonagall the same question he'd asked Hermione. The professor frowned in response, "No, I haven't. Miss Weasley really should be down here," she answered before finishing with her handing out and returning to the staff table.
It would be best, Harry decided, to wait until Ginny arrived, even after he'd finished with all the food he wanted to eat. An examination of the schedule revealed that the first class wouldn't be for another hour, and as the rest of his year, as well as the bulk of all the students in the hall, finished with their meals and began to file out of the area, it became increasingly apparent that he would have to be there to give Ginny some company.
It wasn't too long until almost everyone had left, leaving Harry sitting alone at the end of the table. There were only a handful of other students around, and much of the staff had departed as well, including McGonagall and Dumbledore. One of the students caught Harry's attention, the Slytherin first year whom Harry recognized from Madame Malkin's, and from his being hexed by Ginny's brothers the night before. Much to Harry's surprise, the boy purposefully made his way over to where he sat, his silvery hair reflecting a bit of the ceiling's sunlight.
"Do you mind if I join you?" the boy asked, something about his tone giving Harry the impression that he really wasn't asking.
"Why not?" Harry answered, shrugging as he did.
The boy sat across from Harry, hesitating for a moment as if he thought the table might not let him, and extended his hand. "The name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I don't think we've had the pleasure."
Harry narrowed his eyes before hesitantly, for just a second, taking Malfoy's hand. "No, we have," Harry said. "At Madame Malkin's, remember?"
To his credit, Malfoy looked surprised. "Oh, that was you?" He took a moment to think. "I suppose that does make sense, all things considered. You never did tell me your name."
Harry shrugged. "I suppose you were right, about being put into Slytherin."
Malfoy's seemed a bit put off. "What do you mean by that?" he questioned.
"You said that you knew you were going to be put into Slytherin back in Diagon Alley, unless I'm remembering wrong. The hat sure did put you there quickly."
"Oh," Malfoy demurred. "Yes, it did do that. It took a while with you, though, didn't it? Almost thought you would be a hat stall," he continued, nothing about his words casual.
Harry thought about asking what a hat stall was, but quickly thought that it must be in the name, and that he didn't want to appear stupid or anything. So instead, he nodded. "The hat was saying that maybe it should put me into Slytherin, actually. It said I'd do well there."
If it were possible for eyes to both widen and narrow simultaneously, Malfoy's would have. "So why did it put you into Gryffindor, then?"
"I think because I asked it to," Harry shrugged.
Malfoy seemed confused, and very offended. "You can do that? Why would you ask to be put into Gryffindor, and not in Slytherin?"
Harry thought for a moment, to find the answer, both for himself and so he wouldn't somehow offend the blond boy across the table. "Well, I didn't plan on it before hand, I just asked."
"But why?" Malfoy pushed, the way he said it making Harry feel uncomfortable.
"I talked about the houses with Ginny and Hermione on the train, and they both said that Gryffindor was the best, and I agreed."
"Ginevra Weasley? And that one mudblood?" Malfoy questioned with an incredulous gasp.
"Mudblood? What's that? Do you mean Hermione?" Harry asked rapidly, the words spilling out, himself feeling childish. The word sounded like it was very much an insult, a really bad one, and he really didn't get the feeling that Hermione had ever done anything worth insulting beyond talking a little too much.
"Oh," Malfoy started, looking he didn't know how to answer the questions. "Mudblood, it's a word for the people who use magic whose parents were muggles."
"Still sounds like an insult, not just a word," Harry commented. Malfoy had insulted Hagrid back in Diagon Alley, he remembered, and now had, Harry very strongly suspected, insulted Hermione, who had been perfectly pleasant and friendly, if a bit annoying at times. Someone else too by implication, Harry realized. "So my mother was a mudblood?" he asked, feeling more than a bit angry.
If Malfoy knew whatever the spell was to shrink himself, if there even were one, he looked like he'd have used it. Instead, however, his pale skin just grew red and he stammered a bit in response. "It's really not an insult," he managed out.
Harry couldn't quite bring himself to believe Malfoy at his word, even though he did want to. He seemed thoroughly unpleasant. "I think I'll ask Ginny what it means. She'd probably know."
Malfoy's face had turned very sour by the time he responded. "Ginevra Weasley?" he asked for the second time.
Harry didn't miss the disapproval in the other boy's tone at his friend's name, though he really couldn't imagine where could have come from. "That's the one," he said slowly. "As I was saying, I spent the train ride with her, and she said that her whole family had been in Gryffindor, so I thought that she'd certainly get put there too, and I wanted to be with my friend," Harry explained. "And Hermione had already been sorted there, too."
"Well," Malfoy stated with some regained composure. "I was going to head down to find you and introduce myself, but then…" he trailed off, gesturing to is face.
"You get hexed?" Harry stated pointedly, having the thought that he should maybe give Fred and George something of a thank-you.
"Yes, hexed," Malfoy sneered, though not really at Harry. "Maybe if I hadn't been, we'd have gotten along, and you'd have asked to be put in Slytherin," he pondered.
Probably not, Harry thought, rather doubting that either himself or Ginny would have gotten along too well with Malfoy had the boy shown up like Hermione had. He certainly didn't like him much at the moment. "Maybe," he said, diplomatically, trying not to make an enemy so early.
Before Malfoy could say something in response, a very loud, very high-pitched, very shrill, and very terrified-sounding shriek attacked both his and Harry's ears, causing both of the boys to flinch and look towards the open doorway to the Great Hall.
"What was that?" Harry asked.
Malfoy looked at Harry. "Did that Hagrid tell you that Dumbledore was going to bring a banshee into the castle? Is that why we're not supposed to go to the third floor corridor?"
"No?" Harry answered, unsure where the question came from.
"And we're not dead, so it couldn't be a banshee," Malfoy continued, speaking to himself and not to harry. He looked visibly frightened. Harry thought of Seamus and one of the stories he'd told, wondering what his Irish classmate thought of the screech.
"Oh, it was probably just one of the portraits," Malfoy concluded. "Someone probably spilled something onto one of them."
Harry just nodded along. Not wanting to spend much more time with the other boy, and with several questions to ask Ginny as soon as he could find her, Harry stood up from his seat and extended his hand to Malfoy, imitating how the other had started the conversation. "My first class is pretty soon, and I don't think it would be good to be late."
Malfoy took a moment to register, and then too stood up and took Harry's hand. "I don't think we have a class with each other today, but I do hope we can get along in the future. I suspect you have much to learn about our world. I can help you there."
"Maybe you can" Harry evaded, thinking to himself that he probably didn't want Malfoy's help, with anything or everything. He gave his new acquaintance a nod, turned, and left the Great Hall at speed, not sparing a second glance.
Outside, there was gathered a decent amount of students, all muttering with each other, creating a murmur. It was probably about whatever had caused that scream, Harry determined. He was a little bit interested, but, as he had told Malfoy, his first class at Hogwarts was approaching quickly and there wasn't much time left to find Ginny.
Harry pushed his way through the crowd and proceeded up the main staircase, intent on getting up to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as possible. The first and second flights of stairs led to levels devoid of other students, and on the third was some professor whom he didn't recognize. "Tergeo," Harry heard the professor say, but gave the spell and its caster little mind as he rushed past.
When Harry reached the Fat Lady's portrait standing guard over the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, he was barely able to say the password he was wheezing so hard. His thoughts were on the advantages that lifts enjoyed over stairs as he burst into the Gryffindor common room and saw that Ginny was not there, nor was anyone else. Having not seen any hint of her or her red hair on his way up through the castle, Harry decided to try the girl's dormitories. If she wasn't at breakfast, and she wasn't in the common room, and wasn't anywhere else in the castle, then Ginny had to be in her dormitory, right? It wasn't like she could be at the Transfiguration classroom, as she hadn't been down to get her schedule. She had no way of knowing that Transfiguration was the first class, though maybe one of the girls had gone back up to tell her?
No, Harry determined, she wouldn't have just skipped breakfast.
Now within the spiral staircase that led to the girls' dormitories, Harry found his thoughts suddenly interrupted by a sharp, loud, wailing klaxon. Underneath his right foot, the stair disappeared, and his left foot, hoisted in the air when the noise had sounded, came down on a sharply slanted surface. Immediately, Harry stumbled over his ankles and fell backwards, landing squarely on his back.
Winded from the run through the castle, hurt by the hard fall, and still a bit angry from his conversation with Draco Maloy, Harry just lay there, at the front of the slide that had been the staircase to Ginny's dormitory, in a heap, in pain, with no idea what to do. He was in that state for however long it was until an older-looking Gryffindor girl came sliding down the staircase, landed on two feet, and extended Harry a hand, a very happy and friendly look in her eyes and across her face.
"No boys allowed," she explained cheerily, looking Harry over.
Harry reached out and took her hand, very grateful for the assistance. With the burning in his chest and the ache in his back, he was pretty sure that he couldn't have gotten up without it.
"First year? You really don't want to be late to your first glance, especially if it's McGonagall's. Or Snape's."
"McGonagall's," Harry informed the young woman, whose eyes grew wide at what Harry presumed to be the sight of his scar.
"You're Harry Potter?" she asked. Harry nodded. "Why were you trying to get into the girls' dormitories anyway?"
"My friend didn't show up for breakfast, the other girls said she'd gone back to find her wand. I thought maybe she was still in her dorm, still looking for it, or something," he mumbled.
The upper-year smiled gently. "There's nobody in the first years' dorm right now. I looked in on my done, didn't see anybody in there."
Harry felt his stomach drop at her words. There wasn't any more time to look for Ginny, and he'd really, really wanted to talk to her. His disappointment must have shown on his face, as the other girl leaned down with a smile even more gentle than the previous. "Whoever it is you're looking for; she'll probably be at class. Just meet her there," she suggested, and then left, a couple strands of her wet hair hitting Harry as she went on her way.
She, he thought, must not be much of a morning person. And, he told himself, was probably wrong about Ginny being there in Transfiguration. She had no way of knowing that she should be there. McGonagall had seemed upset enough that Ginny hadn't shown up for breakfast. Just how angry would she be if Ginny was absent for class as well? Or, if Harry was late for it?
The thought got Harry moving with haste. He started retracing his steps, back away from the girls' spiral staircase, back through the common room, and back down the spiral cases to the ground floor, where he arrived in front of where the schedule he'd been given claimed the Transfiguration classroom stood.
The schedule, as it turned out, was correct. There, outside of the room, waiting, were Dean, Seamus, and Neville, and Hermione and all the other first year Gryffindor girls all gathered in a crowd. In addition, in a larger crowd, was a bunching of kids whom Harry recognized by their yellow ties as Hufflepuffs. Nowhere in either grouping of students was the red-haired girl from the train, and from the previous night's feast.
"There you are!" Seamus practically shouted when he first saw Harry. "You were about to be late, you know. I don't think McGonagall would have been too happy if you were. She doesn't seem the sort to give you a pass even if it's the first day, you know?"
"Yeah, she doesn't," Harry agreed. "Have you seen Ginny?" he immediately followed up.
"Oh, didn't you hear?" Seamus asked.
"Hear what?" Harry asked as he felt his stomach drop. Had something bad happened to Ginny? Had she done something wrong? Was she not actually able to do magic and had to be sent home? No, she could, he'd seen it.
"She fell," Dean told Harry.
"Took a step right off the end of a staircase while it was moving. Dropped right down, would have smacked the floor if one of the knights hadn't-" Seamus elaborated.
"Is she okay?" Harry cut him off.
"I think so. Dean and I were on one of the staircases, saw her falling right by us, you know. One of the Professors, I think Snape, told everyone to stay away and went and got her. I saw him carrying her, to the hospital wing I'd imagine. Didn't seem happy about it, though."
Any further explanation from Seamus was cut off by the arrival of Professor McGonagall, who had a very severe expression on her face. "Come on in," she ordered as she unlocked and push open the door to the classroom.
The students did as they were told, filing in and taking spots at the classroom's desks. Dean and Seamus sat together at one, Neville and Hermione at another, and the other four Gryffindor girls who were present paired off as well. Harry wandered around until he found an empty desk. The one he found was, to some surprise, next to the desk sat at by the same two girls with whom he and Ginny had shared a boat across the lake the night before. Susan Bones, Harry recognized one as, and Hannah something, the other. He gave them a quick smile and turned his attention to McGonagall, who was just starting to speak.
"Transfiguration represents the most complex, as well as some of the most dangerous, magic that you will learn at Hogwarts," she lectured. "If anyone decides to mess around in my class, they will leave and not come back. The power of Transfiguration is not to be underestimated; it would not be the first time for a student to cause grievous harm to themselves or to another through sheer carelessness. One mistake, one slip-up, one error, or even just one second of lapsed attention could result in catastrophe"
She walked over to her desk and made some motions at it with her hand. Where before sat an imposing block of intricately carved mahogany was now a very large, living, breathing, and neighing horse of the same color. As quickly as the horse appeared, however, it disappeared, returning to its desk-form at a flick of McGonagall's wand.
"I once had a sixth-year student who transfigured the head of the girl he had been chasing into that of a horse because he'd been joking around with his friends during class. Needless to say, he lost whatever chance he had with her."
Harry imagined himself continuing the work Hagrid had started and giving Dudley a pig's head. He smiled at the mental image, earning himself McGonagall's attention. "Something funny, Mister Potter?"
"No, Professor," Harry shook his head.
"Good," McGonagall continued. She flicked her wand towards one of the chalkboards, causing writing to appear, and began to lecture.
Harry tried to pay attention, but quickly realized that he was the only one in the room not taking notes. He couldn't, he had no quill and no parchment, not having brought his schoolbag down to breakfast as it seemed everybody else had.
"Could I borrow some parchment, and a quill?" he asked Susan Bones, who silently nodded and handed over what had been requested before quickly returning her attention to McGonagall. McGonagall, who Harry could see had noted his exchange and elected not to chastise him for it.
The class went on, the lecture about what it really meant to transfigure something eventually turning over into some practical learning. McGonagall levitated matches over to every student with the instruction to turn it into a needle. She wrote the words for the spell on the board and made several methodical demonstrations of the proper wand motion before setting her students out on their own to make an attempt.
Alone, Harry gave it his best go, doing what he could to block out everybody else in the room. He looked over his notes after each attempt, trying to identify what was going wrong. He was saying right words, and he was making the right motions of his hand, at least he thought he was, but not much of anything was happening. A look around the room revealed that Hermione had gotten her match to change its color to a metallic silver, causing Harry to look back at his with newfound determination. Ginny would have managed to do it by now, he was sure. Both she and Hermione had been better than him on the train. If she couldn't be in class, he'd have to do it for her.
The handful of attempts Harry then attempted produced little results, causing him to reevaluate how he was doing things. With borrowed quill in hand, he drew as accurately as he could a diagram of the spell's hand motions. Then, he took a deep look at every line he'd written down about the nature of transfiguration itself, and started connecting any apparently relevant points to parts of the spell that he thought they went with. The act of change, he suspected, went with the full spiral motion, and the single, precisely defined jab informed the subject of the desired result. Mutatio, he connected to the changing spiral, and lignumaes he suspected went with the direction.
Hoping very hard that his next attempt would not fail quite so hard as his previous ones, that the wood of the match would change to metal, Harry went through the motions very precisely and spoke "mutatio lignumaes" very slowly, all with his eyes closed, and upon opening saw that his match was not in the shape of a needle, but was very much metal. Harry picked it up and examined it, noting that it was much heavier than it had been before. The action caught McGonagall's attention, who came over from where she had been, there by Hermione giving her three points for her own success, to look over Harry's work.
Hermione's, Harry saw, actually looked like a needle, pointed and silver looking, while his still looked very much like a match, albeit a match with the color and feel of iron.
"Those are some clever notes you've written, Mister Potter," McGonagall told Harry. "Tell me, though, did you actually think of changing your match into a needle when you performed the spell?"
Harry blinked. "Uh, no, I didn't," he realized and admitted.
"Next time, you probably should," McGonagall smiled. "Nonetheless, excellent work, Potter. Another three points to Gryffindor."
Harry looked down at his shoes upon seeing the mild looks of admiration that Susan and Hannah briefly cast towards him, and didn't see McGonagall return to her desk. A poking on his shoulder caused him to look up, and there he saw Susan Bones, leaning over, and heard her asking if he could show her how he did it, payback for the quill and parchment. He agreed, and slid over what she'd loaned to him.
For Harry, it was enjoyable enough just to watch the two Hufflepuff girls follow what he wrote, and by the end of class, he had gotten his notes back and the girls had gotten four points between them for their house as a result of their own success.
Harry was on his way out the door, grumbling a bit about the heap of homework that'd been assigned and trailing behind all of the others, when McGonagall called out to him. "Oh, Mister Potter, would you stay behind for a moment, please?" she ordered.
Gulping before he did, Harry turned around and walked towards the Professor's desk. "Yes?" he asked, nervously.
"Well, Potter," McGonagall started, "as I'm sure you've discovered by now, your friend Ginevra Weasley had quite the accident this morning, which is why she couldn't show up to the Great Hall for breakfast. Professor Snape got to her aid first, and took her to the hospital wing. I'm told her ankle required some extra effort from Madame Pomfrey to repair, but that it is healed now. Professor Snape should be here with her any moment. Unfortunately, I have a class in ten minutes and beyond that have much to do, so I will be unable to catch her up on today's material before the next lesson I have with your year. I would normally ask a prefect to help, but as you took some very good notes and seemed to understand the material well, I think I can rely on you to help Ginevra get caught up?"
Harry nodded in affirmation.
"Of course, course, this will exempt you from today's homework assignment," McGonagall added, before giving Harry a pointed look. "And only from today's assignment."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry eagerly responded.
"And there she is," McGonagall announced and looked up from Harry, causing him to turn around. There indeed Ginny was, a thoroughly unpleasant expression on both her face and the face of the greasy-looking professor accompanying her. "And there you are, Severus. I do appreciate your assistance, as does Miss Weasley, I'm sure."
Harry watched as Ginny mumbled out an insincere thanks to the Professor who had his hand grabbing her shoulder.
"I will once again remind you to avoid falling, Miss Weasley," he drawled. "Madame Pomfrey and I both have better things to do than spend our time tending to clumsy first-years."
McGonagall narrowed her lips and glared at Snape, who in turned seemed to notice Harry and glare at him. "And this is?" he asked, as if he already knew the answer.
"Harry Potter, I believe you'll have him in class on Friday," McGonagall answered. "I'm sure you'll enjoy being his Potions teacher."
"Is that so? I'm not quite so confident," Harry heard Snape drawl, and was a bit off-put by the words, but he was nonetheless not looking at the man, instead looking at Ginny, whose brown eyes had brightened significantly at the news that she'd just have to study with her friend, instead of anything more severe for missing class. Harry gave her a smile which she returned in kind.
"He did some impressive work in today's class, which is why I felt comfortable assigning him to help Miss Weasley here catch up on the material she missed," McGonagall stated. "Now, I do have another class very soon, as do each of you. Potter and Weasley, in case you've forgot, you've Charms, up on the second floor. All of you, please, have a good rest of your day."
With everything to say having evidently been said, McGonagall turned her attention to her desk, Snape in turn rushed out of the room, followed well behind by Harry and Ginny, the latter of whom turned to her companion after seeing the last trace of Professor Snape's cloak disappear into a faraway corridor.
"I really hate that man," she informed Harry.
"Didn't he help you out?"
"I almost wish he'd left me to crawl to the infirmary," Ginny said, her tone dark and her expression dead-serious.
"Huh," Harry answered. "He doesn't seem to like me very much. I don't think it'd be a hard choice between you and him, even if he did."