Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter or his world. Wish I did!
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my little story! Much appreciated – especially seeing as everyone seems to like it so far! I am going to try and update at least once a week, if not more often. Got a few chapters written so far but it's my NaNoWriMo effort for this year so it'll probably slow down once November's finished and I can stop typing like a dervish in an effort to get 50K words done by 30th November! But I WILL finish this story – eventually.
For all those people who have asked what's going to happen with Harry and is he going to live with Snape – to be honest I have absolutely NO idea. As usual when I write anything, I just let my fingers do the talking and see what happens. I'll let you know when I find out! All I've decided so far is that Harry is probably not going to be going back to the Dursleys, although that may change!
Anyway, hope you all like the next instalment!
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The Transfiguration double period that was the Gryffindors' first lesson in Hogwarts was followed by a single period of Charms, which finished in time for lunch.
Harry trotted out of the Charms classroom after Neville, who had shared a desk with him, and the two boys stopped outside the door to wait for Hermione and Ron. The bushy haired girl and long lanky red-head emerged from the classroom almost last, after Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, the other two Gryffindor first year boys, and were still arguing. Harry rolled his eyes at Neville, who shrugged helplessly.
"Look, shut up already!" Ron bellowed halfway to the Great Hall. "OK, I was doing it wrong, but will you stop going on and on about it!" He glowered down at Hermione, whose mouth had fallen open in surprise at the outburst. Then Ron saw the stunned expressions on the faces of Harry and Neville and slowly turned a painful shade of red before rushing off to catch up with Seamus and Dean, ducking his head in embarrassment. Hermione blinked, sniffling a little as the shock wore off, and Harry patted her shoulder tentatively.
"C'mon, Hermione, he didn't mean it like it sounded." The black-haired boy said comfortingly. "You do have a tendency to rabbit on about classes, you know, and Ron's not into that sort of thing at all, is he? He'd much rather just forget about the last class as soon as he can." Hermione managed a shaky smile as Neville nodded fervently in agreement, and the trio started walking towards the Great Hall again.
"I know, Harry, but it was a bit of a shock when he suddenly yelled at me." Hermione confessed as they skipped down the stairs into the Entrance Hall. "I didn't have many friends at primary school as everyone thought I was too bossy and a know-it-all, and I don't really fancy going through Hogwarts in the same boat for another seven years!" Neville snorted.
"Don't be daft, 'Mione. You've already got friends, even if Ron's too much of a pillock to talk to you ever again. You've got me and Harry, haven't you?" He looked down over Hermione's head at Harry, who nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Yeah, you have. Just don't start nagging us to do our homework!" Harry sniggered, and Hermione managed a weak chuckle.
"Well, if you do it, I won't have to nag you, will I?" she said logically, and Harry groaned as Neville laughed.
"Busted, Harry." The freckled boy said, and Harry sighed.
"Yup, shot down in my prime." He said mournfully as the trio entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table. Hermione patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, smiling again.
"Never mind, Harry, I promise not to nag you too much." She teased, and Harry sighed again in mock despair as the trio reached empty seats at the far end of the table and climbed over the benches. Harry ended up sitting with his back to the rest of the room, next to a pretty blonde girl called Lavender Brown, and Hermione and Neville sat opposite him with Neville next to Parvati Patil.
"Hi, Harry." Lavender said brightly, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Harry slanted a glance sideways at her and raised his eyebrows.
"Have you got something in your eye, Lavender?" he asked in concern, and she stammered a disclaimer and turned away to talk to the person on her other side. Hermione dissolved into giggles over her sandwiches, and Harry looked at her quizzically.
"What?" he said, and the girl just shook her head, unable to stop laughing.
"I'll tell you later." She wheezed between giggles, and Harry and Neville exchanged bemused looks before turning back their lunches.
"How is the black eye, Mr Potter?" said Professor McGonagall's soft Scottish voice behind Harry half an hour later, just as he picked up his fourth sandwich. Harry twisted round on the bench at Hermione's scowl of instruction, and his tall Head of House backed up a couple of paces before looking at his bruised eye measuringly. Harry sat frozen still, relieved that she had backed up so she wasn't looming over him quite so much, but he still flinched instinctively as her right hand reached towards his face carefully.
"Relax, Harry, I'm not going to hurt you." McGonagall said softly, and in fact she went so far as to crouch down so she was on eye level with the small boy. "I just need to feel the edges of the bruise, okay?" Her sharp blue eyes met his emerald green ones forthrightly, and Harry nodded reluctantly. He managed not to flinch as his Head of House knelt on the floor before him and gently touched the edge of his shiner with the tips of her long fingers, but a small hiss of pain did escape him as she pressed carefully around the edge of the bruising.
"Sorry, Harry." McGonagall withdrew her hand, and folded both hands in her lap as Harry relaxed slightly.
"Still sore, I see?" She asked rhetorically, looking at the smallest of her new Gryffindors.
"Yes, P'fessor." Harry said softly. "Not as bad as it was, though."
"No, the bruising is definitely going. It is smaller now than it was when you came to Transfiguration. Did Madam Pomfrey give you any more bruise cream?"
"Yes, P'fessor." Harry fished in the pocket of his robes and pulled out the small blue jar, displaying it for her to see. "She said to put it on every morning and night until the bruise has gone, and to go see her if I need any more."
"Hmm. That should be enough to get rid of it. It's a few days old anyway, isn't it Harry?" McGonagall's blue eyes looked at him kindly, and he felt himself blushing red as he nodded once.
"Two days old, I think now." He mumbled, and his Professor patted his hands where they were clenched in his lap.
"Never mind, Harry. You don't have to worry about it until next Summer, do you?"
"What about Christmas, P'fessor?" Harry asked in surprise, daring to ask a question at the kind look in her eyes. "Won't I have to go back for Christmas?"
"No, Harry, you won't. Hogwarts stays open at Christmas, there are several Professors who don't leave and often a few students stay over the holidays. Those whose family is away or who have no family to go to. In fact I think the Weasleys are staying this year – I believe their parents are going to Romania to see their brother Charlie." She rose to her feet in a smooth swirl of tartan robes, and looked down the table to see Ron huddled with Seamus and Dean several seats away. "Although that may not be a good thing if you are not friendly with Ron."
"Oh, Ron's all right P'fessor." Harry said with a shrug. "Anyway Fred 'n' George seem to like me." McGonagall looked down at him in surprise.
"Really? Goodness me." She said in surprise. "You are honoured, Mr Potter. The Terrible Twosome do not take a liking to many students at all."
"Hey, Professor McGongall." Chirped a voice from the other side of the table, behind Hermione and Neville who both jumped.
"Our ears were burning." George said with a wicked smile,
"So we figured someone was talking about us." Fred completed. McGonagall shot them a disillusioned glance and sighed in long-suffering patience.
"I was just congratulating Mr Potter here on having had the privilege of talking to you and not being pranked by you." She said sternly, and the twins shrugged.
"We haven't pranked him yet, Professor,"
"But we can't make any promises."
"Indeed. Have you seen Professor Snape since your debacle in Potions this morning?"
"Detention –"
"Tonight –"
"8 pm." The twins said gloomily, and McGongall's lips twitched at their crestfallen expressions.
"Serves you both right. You should know better than to cause chaos in Potions on the first day of term, boys. I will see you at dinner, Harry, and I want to see you eating more than three sandwiches for lunch tomorrow, OK?"
"Yes, P'fessor." Harry said, nodding obediently. "I'll try."
"Good lad." McGonagall sailed away down the Hall towards the doors, and Harry turned back to his lunch with a relieved sigh as the twins sat down next to him and Hermione.
"So what did you do in Potions, then?" Harry asked curiously, reaching cautiously for his sandwich.
"Can't tell you, Harry." Fred said solemnly from beside him.
"That would be corrupting the innocent," George added,
"Besides, it was such a good idea that we might need to use it again,"
"Though not for a while, Gred."
"No, Forge, let Snapey forget first," Fred agreed with a shudder. "He wasn't happy at all, was he?"
"No, Gred, he was not." George leaned down towards Harry conspiratorially.
"Remember, Harry, do not go out of your way to annoy Professor Snape."
"Unless you're us, of course." Fred chipped in from across the table.
"Well, obviously, Gred,"
"We go out of our way to annoy everyone,"
"It's what we do best."
"And you are both so good at it, as well." Said an unfamiliar voice from behind Harry and Fred, and the two twisted to look behind them.
"Afternoon, Headmaster, sir." Fred said cheerfully, totally unabashed at seeing Professor Dumbledore standing behind him.
"Good afternoon, Mr Weasley." Dumbledore twinkled his blue eyes at Fred and then at the small first year sitting next to him. Harry just blinked back, not entirely sure he trusted Dumbledore yet. After all, he reasoned to himself, Dumbledore must have known how the Dursleys treated him, if he was as great a wizard as Hagrid had said. His Hogwarts letter had been addressed to his cupboard, for heaven's sake, so somebody must have known!
"I see you have a nice shiner, Mr Potter." Dumbledore said amiably, his blue eyes twinkling still. Harry shrugged and nodded, not saying a word, and saw Dumbledore smile as he assumed Harry was just too shy to talk. "I believe Madam Pomfrey is aware of the bruise and has given you something for it?"
Harry nodded again, playing dumb. The charm Dumbledore was exerting on him was just making him twice as wary of the Headmaster, who was standing a little too close for Harry's comfort anyway even though he was carefully not making any sudden moves.
"And what is your next lesson after lunch, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked, plowing on with the conversation despite Harry's pretence of shyness.
"It's potions Headmaster." Hermione piped up from across the table. "Double period with the Slytherins." Harry blinked at the flash of something in Dumbledore's blue eyes as they glanced over the table at Hermione, then the Headmaster was twinkling down at him again as if the girl had never spoken.
"Well, I'm obviously not going to get a verbal answer out of you today, am I Mr Potter?" he said in amusement, and smiled at the group of first years and the Weasley twins with more than a hint of superiority. "I will leave you to your lunches. Enjoy your afternoon's classes." He wandered away down the Great Hall towards the door, and George looked down at Harry with raised eyebrows.
"Why didn't you talk to him?" he asked curiously. "Dumbledore's OK."
"Is he?" Harry said sceptically. "According to Hagrid he's the one who left me with the bloody Dursleys, and he must have known how they treat me. So why should I trust him?"
"How would he know how the Dursleys treat you?" Fred asked in surprise.
"Because my Hogwarts letter was addressed to 'Mr H Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs'." Said Harry, looking at him as if he was stupid. "So whoever wrote the letter obviously knew I had to sleep in the cupboard, and it was signed by Headmaster Dumbledore so I bet he knew." He scowled down the Hall after the vanished Headmaster. "Anyway, I just don't trust him. He was trying too hard to be nice and friendly."
"That's 'cos you're famous, Harry." Neville said cheerfully, and the black haired boy snorted.
"Yeah, right. Works a treat on the Slytherins then, don't it?" he said sarcastically, and the others laughed.
"Professor Dumbledore's right, anyway." Hermione said, swallowing the last of her pumpkin juice. "We'd better get going – we don't want to be late for Potions."
"God no." Neville said faintly, scrambling up after the bushy haired girl.
"Good luck, Harry." George said cheerfully as he and Fred rose to head for their next class.
"See you at Dinner if you survive the afternoon." Fred said with a mischievous grin, and Harry rolled his eyes as he trotted after Neville and Hermione.
"Later, guys." He said over his shoulder, passing Ron Seamus and Dean as the other three Gryffindor boys rose.
The Gryffindors reached the dungeons and found the first year Slytherins lined up against the wall outside the Potions classroom in single file. They stared at Harry silently as he passed in the middle of the Gryffindor clump, and the boy ignored them as he lined up with his fellow Gryffindor first years on the other side of the door from the Slytherins. He could feel Draco Malfoy's eyes burning a hole in his head, but refused to look at the blond snob, despite the muttering from the Slytherins.
"What's up, Potter? Too scared to look at a nasty Slytherin?" Draco shouted down the corridor after a few moments. Harry snorted.
"Sure I am, Malfoy. Don't want to crack the lenses of my glasses looking at your ugly face, do I?" he retorted, and was encouraged by sniggers from the other Gryffindors as Draco fell silent, unable to think of a good response to that one at the moment. The blond boy was saved from having to respond by the door of the Potions room swinging open with an ominous creak, and the two groups of first years filed in and scattered to their preferred desks. Harry found himself sitting with Ron, who shrugged at him in embarrassed but pleased greeting.
"Hey Ron."
"Harry. Apologise to Hermione for me, will ya?" Ron asked softly, and Harry snorted.
"Do it yourself, she doesn't bite you know." He fell silent as Professor Snape suddenly strode through the dungeon from the back and halted at the front by his desk and the blackboard, turning in a billow of black robes to frown down at the awed first years facing him. Harry, his green eyes fixed on the Professor's sallow, hook-nosed face, could have sworn he saw a tiny smirk cross Snape's lips as he took in the spell-bound 11 year olds gaping up at him, but he forgot it when Snape started to speak in his soft, silky voice.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses …. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." He glared down at the class with cold black eyes, then his wand snapped out to point at Malfoy.
"Malfoy! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged blankly as Malfoy stuttered for a moment then managed to get out,
"The Draught of Living Death, sir." In a half-scared squeak. Although Snape was the Head of Slytherin House, it seemed the Slytherins were almost as terrified of him in class as the Gryffindors were!
"Good. Potter!" Harry gulped nervously as Snape's black eyes fastened on him. "Where would I find a bezoar?"
"Um, in a goat's stomach, sir?" Harry quavered, and had the satisfaction of seeing Snape's eyebrows rise in mild surprise.
"Correct. Longbottom!" Neville let out a faint whimper where he sat beside Hermione on the desk beside Harry & Ron's.
"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape snapped, and Neville's eyes opened wide as he realised he had been asked a question he could actually answer!
"Nothing sir. They are the same plant." He said, secure in his love of Herbology, and Snape looked surprised again.
"Correct again. I do believe this class may not be a complete waste of my time after all. We have a few students who actually seem to have read their textbooks before the start of term." The tall potions professor gave a small smirk. "Will wonders never cease." He turned and flicked his wand at the board behind him, and instructions for a boil-removing potion appeared there.
"This is your class assignment for today. The store cupboard is at the back of the room, form an orderly file before it – DO NOT RUSH MR WEASLEY!" Ron froze in mid step then cautiously walked forwards towards the store cupboard and the queue before it. Snape grunted. "Proceed." The first years bent over their cauldrons industriously, all of them trying to avoid Snape's gaze as they worked.
