Chapter 4. A Mysterious Ally
"Your turn. If I were you, I'd be very careful now, though." Ron Weasley smirked triumphantly, leaning against the back of the warm, comfy chair near the fireplace of the Gryffindor Common Room.
Draco, who was sitting in front of him, winced, staring at the cheap set of Wizard's Chess pieces and groaned in frustration,
"How can you be so good at this? I don't get it. I've been trained to play chess since my early childhood, and I never played bad, even though it's not like I enjoyed it all that much..."
"Perhaps that's the reason? Unlike you, Ron seems to love the game," mumbled Harry absently, lying on the couch next to the two of his fellow Gryffindors, lazily reading the accurately written lines of the letter from his father for the second time this day.
"No, the game is alright, it's just that I wasn't fond of the fact that I was forced to play it," reasoned Draco, keeping looking at the pieces thoughtfully.
"Well, then maybe you're just not good enough."
Malfoy's cheeks reddened the same second as he blurted out,
"Oh, shut up, Potter! If you're so smart, then come and try it yourself!"
Harry smirked joyfully, putting the letter away and taking another one from the small table next to the couch.
"No, thanks. I'd rather stay out of the boring stuff if I can help it."
Ron frowned, raising his head to look at the black haired boy.
"Boring? What do you think isn't boring then?"
Harry shrugged, focusing on the text written on the ornamented piece of parchment.
"I dunno. Fighting? Anything that revolves around actual usage of magic? Quidditch goes well, too."
The blond and the red haired boy's heads snapped at him immediately, their eyes shining with similar excitement at once.
"Oh! Have you seen the latest reports, by the way? It seems like Falmouth Falcons can make it to the finals this year! For the first time in a century! Isn't that totally awesome?" babbled Ron.
"Bollocks, I'm gonna eat my hat if this happens," drawled Draco skeptically, "Puddlemere United will stomp them, you'll see. G3—G7!" he added, commanding the white bishop to attack Ron's rook.
"Oh well, prepare your hat then. I bet it's gonna be quite some show this October," the Weasley boy grinned, "Too bad we're not gonna get to watch it. And, well... E8— E1. Checkmate," Draco groaned again, gripping his temple and closing his eyes.
"Screw you and this stupid game, Weasley."
"Oh, so you admit that lost to me in a stupid game. I guess it doesn't make you very smart."
"What did you say—!"
"If the three of you don't make haste now, we're going to lose more points! Aren't you afraid of being late for our first Potions class?" Said the girl with bushy brown hair, who came close to the three of them unnoticed with her arms crossed on her chest. She glared at her classmates a bit angrily, evidently upset.
"Oh, thank you so much. I forgot that we had a walking alarm to babysit us," muttered Ron. Draco simply eyed the girl haughtily while Harry ignored her completely, still busy with the correspondence.
"It's not my fault that the three of you require babysitting. Dear lord, seriously! We already lost thirty points because of you boys! Thirty points in just three days! How can you be so irresponsible?"
"And how can you be so annoying and mean? Beside that, who on earth taught you to speak like some lowlife? Where are your education and manners?" asked Draco defiantly, making the girl blush and lower her hands, clenching her fists defensively.
"My parents taught me well!"
"Oh, really? That is not very notable. Perhaps the problem is not your parents but you, then?"
She opened her mouth, apparently willing to retort, but then the young witch just turned around and rushed toward the exit. Harry turned his head slightly to look after her, frowning as he heard the echo of a weep.
"Good riddance," muttered Ron, to which Draco nodded, turning to Harry.
"She's kind of right, though. We're nearly late."
"Yeah, yeah..." The green eyed boy got up from the couch, stretching his arms and handing the letter he had been reading for the last few minutes back to his friend. "Seems like you got away very easily, after all. I haven't managed to find any double bottom here no matter how deep I looked into it."
Malfoy nodded, taking the parchment.
"I know. That's totally not something I expected, but whatever. Not like I'm going to complain." The blond wizard smirked contentedly, lowering his head to look at the letter once more.
Dear Draco,
We received a word from our allies at Hogwarts that you had been sorted to Gryffindor. Whereas it is most certainly not something we had expected to happen, I would like to let you know that we are satisfied and proud of you nevertheless. It has been more than three hundred years since the last time a Malfoy got sorted into this noble house, albeit you do remember it, of course, for I am sure that we taught you well enough, which brings me back to the reason why I am writing this letter beside the obvious reasons.
After we gave it some thought, me and your mother decided that what happened to you is all in all a good and promising occurrence. I have no doubt in the education we gave you, and along with this, the qualities of a Gryffindor shall make you a glorious heir to our family. We are looking forward to seeing your upcoming great deeds. Do not disappoint us, my son.
Lucius Malfoy.
Draco's lips curled into a barely notable warm smile as his eyes moved to the bottom of the parchment to see the additional small message written by a different hand,
P.S. Please, dear, try to prevent us from receiving too many letters from the Head of your House regarding your behavior. I am not certain that I would be able to calm your father down every time, especially considering who your friend is.
I am incredibly proud of you, my boy, and I love you very much. Both of us do.
Narcissa Malfoy.
He put the letter into the pocket of his robe, looking at his classmates then. It seemed that he was right about his mother, after all. She knew about their secret friendship with Harry. Draco wondered when and how had she found out, and more importantly, did his father know as well? Probably not, but still...
"So, let's go?" He asked, deciding not to think about it for now.
"Yeah. Being late sure isn't something we want this time," replied Harry, walking to the exit of the room, followed by the other two Gryffindors. The rest of their peers had already left the common room by that moment, which didn't bother them at all as the three of them hadn't gotten lost in the castle yet unlike most of their classmates.
Fortunately enough, it didn't take them long to reach the Dungeons. It was surprising to them that they actually managed to come in time, although they were the last among the other first years to enter the dimly lit vast room.
"Hey, Potter!" Harry snapped out of his thought, turning his head to the left as the three of them walked toward the front line of desks — all the other spots were already taken. "Tell us, what should we expect here?" asked Nott, his question accompanied by a few giggles coming from the other Slytherins.
"How would I know? I'm not taking divination course," he shrugged, sitting next to Draco and Ron.
"Well, who would need divination in your position?" The blue eyed boy sneered annoyingly, making Harry turn to him again, frowning a little. "I wish I attended a school full of my family members as teachers." There was another burst of laughter, this time even from some Gryffindors — Lavander Brown and Parvati Patil, if Harry remembered their names correctly.
He narrowed his eyes at the girls for a second, making a mental note to give them a lesson of politeness sometime later before turning his attention back to Nott.
"I don't see why won't you leave Hogwarts right away if it's bothering you that much. Might as well save you from getting embarrassed many, many times throughout the upcoming years, too."
"Embarrassed? Are you implying that you are going to abuse your obviously privileged position in this school to harass me somehow? Oh well, I guess that is something to be expected from a guy like you. Already preparing to run to your mummy and complain about the evil Slytherins badmouthing you?" Before the collective laughter died out, Theodore paled a bit as he saw the tip of Harry's wand pointed straight at his face.
"I can see that you're still nothing but trash talk. How about us having a real fight if you're as powerful and brave as you try to appear in front of the servants you call your classmates?"
Everyone went completely silent, gazing at the two young wizards nervously and unwilling to intervene. Only Hermione seemed to want to say something in protest, but even the righteous girl decided to stay quiet when she noticed Draco threatening her with his fist and making a grimace, to which Harry was grateful — unlike the muggle born witch, Malfoy knew very well how things worked between pure bloods in such situations.
At the same time, Nott rolled his eyes and chuckled, having a hard time keeping his cool mask up.
"Please. We have seen your outstanding performance back on the train. It is surprising that you are even capable of holding your wand properly, Potter. Besides, I would never react to such an obvious taunt. You should try harder than this."
Harry pursed his lips, and albeit he didn't visibly cast any spells, something strange happened to Theodore's legs the next second — from Gryffindors' point of view it looked as if a heavy mace hit the boy's ankles, making him fall down onto the floor on his back, hitting his head hard and gasping in pain.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, and a detention with the Head of your House tonight. Lower your wand immediately." Everyone's heads turned to the entrance of the room to look at the owner of the beautiful yet firm and strong voice.
Harry sighed, taking his wand away. He realized that he had lost to Nott this time, no matter how he looked at it.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Mr. Nott, do you require medical treatment?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks. It was nothing," Theodore grunted, wiping dust off his robe as Daphne and a pudgy Slytherin boy helped him get up.
"Very well then. Let's start with a short introduction." The green eyed witch with long red hair gathered in a ponytail, dressed in a neat, rich looking black robe with silver ornament on its sleeves and collar stormed toward her desk, turning around to face her students. "My name is Lily Potter and I'm going to be your Potions teacher during the next few years. I'm sure that every single teacher you met so far told you a similar thing, but it's still my duty to let you know that Potions is one of the most important subjects both when it comes to your future as a wizard or witch and to your profession, too, whatever you're going to choose in your fifth year. If anything, the mastery of this delicate art is a must for all the elite professions out there, so I highly recommend every single one of you to pay attention during our classes if you want to achieve something when you grow up."
"By elite professions, do you mean the job of Aurors?" asked Neville, to which Lily nodded, noticing the strange vigorous expression on the boy's face as she replied,
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom, and not only that. For instance, Healers and especially Unspeakables need it, too. Your grades in Potions must be perfect if that's who you intend to become after Hogwarts."
"Why did you quit your job as an Auror, ma'am?" asked Nott, meeting the calm gaze of Lily's green eyes.
"I was asked by Professor Dumbledore to work here after Professor Slughorn had retired. Since the headmaster is my old friend, I couldn't refuse."
"Is it true that you have defeated the Dark Lord?" asked another girl from Slytherin — Pansy Parkinson, not the most pleasant person to interact with in Harry's opinion. But she wasn't very fond of Nott, which was a good thing on the other hand. He didn't want them united, especially under this cocky idiot's leadership.
"I have witnessed his downfall, but I wasn't the one who destroyed him."
"Was it your son, then?" asked Hermione, making The Boy Who Lived want to strangle her for a second. This silly book worm had no sense of tact what so ever...
Meanwhile Lily frowned, looking at her son's classmate thoughtfully for a while before replying,
"This information is top secret. As you probably know, Harry Potter was the one who caused Voldemort's death, that is true," ignoring the collective gasp at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, she continued, "As for the rest of the story, I don't have the authority to reveal more details. I would also like you to raise your hand and introduce yourself before asking a question from now on, miss...?"
"Granger! Hermione Granger—I'm sorry, Professor!" The girl blushed terribly, bowing her head down and trying to ignore multiple chuckles and sneers coming from here and there.
"It's fine, Ms. Granger. Any more questions? Anyone? Very well," she said, nodding to the seemingly calmed down students. "Today I'm going to start teaching you the very basics of brewing different stuff, and we'll begin this wonderful journey with classification of ingredients we wizards typically use. As some of you might already know..."
Harry gritted his teeth, lowering his head and drawing meaningless scribble on the blank scroll of parchment that was lying in front of him.
Of course, he had been prepared for this long before he had arrived to Hogwarts. He had known that this was going to be happening to him, especially with his famous mother being their teacher now — it was inevitable and hardly surprising. And he didn't really mind it, at least to an extent. The most hurtful and irritating thing was the fact that he knew for sure that all of his peers who laughed at him today were nothing next to him. If he wanted to, he could crush them all in an instant. Not that he actually wanted to, of course...
Yet still, the fact that he wasn't even allowed to defend himself from them was what angered him the most. He knew, of course, that he wasn't supposed to pay any attention to his classmates and their foolishness. They didn't worth it anyway. Yet still...
During his early years, he had been growing up with the idea of being constantly bound in many senses. Ever since his father began his training, Harry knew that he would always be suppressed as well as his power, and his hands would always be tied both figuratively and literally. It was his fate as a chosen one, as well as all the attention he was receiving. He was fine with it so long as he had his family... And maybe his friends.
The boy glanced at Draco and Ron.
The blond was actually paying attention to Lily's lecture, constantly writing something down and looking at her while Weasley was doing the same thing as Harry himself — writing some random words and letters on the parchment to make it seem like he was doing something while in reality the red haired wizard was spacing out, clearly too bored with the subject of the lesson.
Harry grinned. Yes, he could say that he finally had some friends. With Draco being his secret best mate for years by now, Ron Weasley had somehow managed to fit into their company very easily and naturally, probably because they shared many interests and their attitude towards the school was similar — they found most of it being a waste of time, although each for their own reasons.
The Boy Who Lived was grateful to two of them. Although he never showed it, the fact that he had been growing up nearly completely isolated from pretty much everyone but his family until now made him feel a bit lonely, and this feeling was never going anywhere no matter what he would do. He had been taught not to trust anyone easily, and the boy wasn't sure what 'easily' exactly meant. And so he didn't. Unlike his careless peers, he would always be on his own. But his friends created at least an illusion for him. The illusion of not being alone when his family wasn't around.
Speaking of his family...
Harry put the feather away and looked at his mother who was writing something on the blackboard, answering some of Hermione's questions concerning some herb at the same time.
He knew that while they were at Hogwarts, Lily would always have to be biased whenever it would come to him. No matter how perfect he would try to behave, she would still find a reason to take points from him from time to time just to show everyone that she was actually unbiased and her son wasn't getting any special treatment. It made him come to a simple conclusion — since he knew enough about Potions thanks to his mother's part of the training he had received prior to Hogwarts, he didn't have to pay more attention to this subject than it was necessary, especially considering that he never liked it all that much anyway.
In other words, his mother's class turned to be probably the most boring one to him, much to the boy's displeasure. But he couldn't help it, and acting like a brat wasn't an option either. Which meant that he would have to just try to be mediocre while doing something useful during Potions. That wasn't a trivial task, especially since Lily knew her son too well to let anything slip unnoticed...
Harry smirked in amusement. He had finally found himself a challenge...
"Now then, who can tell me what is the difference between Dittany and Aconite when it comes to brewing a simple restoration potion? Anyone?" Lily turned around and looked across the room, frowning as she noticed only two hands raised up — Hermione's and Draco's. "Well, Mr. Malfoy?"
"The difference is about the taste and the time it takes to make the potions, ma'am. With Aconite, it's more bitter and it takes about half an hour more to brew."
"That's correct, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Gryffindor. And what about Dittany? Can you tell anything specific about it?" This time, Draco didn't reply, leaving only Hermione
nearly jumping on her spot in the desire to answer the question which made Lily sigh patiently, shaking her head.
"You already earned ten points today, Ms. Granger, so I'd like someone else to have a word. Perhaps mister Nott would like to say something?"
Theodore shook his head.
"I don't know, Professor."
"Oh... Too bad. Well then, maybe Mr. Potter knows the answer?"
Harry flinched, raising his head and meeting his mother's eyes that looked nearly identical to his own.
Of course, he knew the correct answer. What she was teaching them today were mere basics, and he knew them since his early childhood. Still, he didn't want to show off, at least not here. He would take his time to shine later, in more interesting subjects...
"I have no idea, Professor."
Lily narrowed her eyes at her son, letting out a heavy, sad sigh which made Harry's heart twitch a bit.
"That's a shame. Yes, Ms. Greengrass?" she looked at the blonde girl who was sitting next to Nott and raised her hand timidly after the two boys failed to answer the question.
"From what I know, Dittany makes the taste of the potion more sweet and it also strengthens the effect a little bit which makes it more viable for those who can afford it, because this variation of the potion is more expensive."
"Splendid, Ms. Greengrass. Ten points to Slytherin. But there is also one more detail about this potion none of you mentioned," all of sudden, she turned to Ron who looked like he was about to fall asleep, not noticing anything that was going on around him. "If you use both these ingredients in a single portion of this potion, the result will exceed your best expectations, making it get one more fantastic effect which helps lazy students to hasten the flow of time and skip the classes up to the point where they can go to their beds. Isn't that correct, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron nearly jumped up at the mention of his name, turning his head to look at Lily and clearing his throat.
"Oh—yes, of course, Professor Potter."
There was a collective burst of laughter that consumed the classroom — even Harry and Lily herself grinned, which made Ron blush to the point where his face resembled beet in colour.
"Well, seeing as you clearly took this special version of the potion today, I hope you don't mind if I take five points from you and give it to Slytherin, seeing as you obviously need something to stimulate your activity during my lessons. Anyway, everyone, you are free for today. Your home task is on the blackboard," she flicked her wand and a few more lines appeared under the recipe of said restoration potion. "It was a pleasure to meet all of you. See you next time!"
With that being said, Harry threw his stuff into his bag as soon as he could and stormed out of the classroom, followed by Draco and Ron who tried to catch up with him but failed — when they walked out into the corridor outside the door, The Boy Who Lived was already gone, so they stopped for a while to decide what to do while the other students were passing by, heading upstairs to the next class.
"I guess he didn't take it very well," said Ron who already got over the embarrassing situation that had happened to him a few minutes ago. "I didn't know his mom was so harsh."
"She's not harsh, it's just that—ugh, no matter. You wouldn't understand anyway." Draco sighed, striding towards the lstairs that led out of the Dungeons.
"Hey! Are you calling me stupid?"
"No, of course I'm not. That is your own conclusion, I didn't say anything remotely close to that," said the blond, receiving a poke of Ron's elbow on his ribs.
"Seriously though, we should look for him. Our next class is Defense Against the Dark Arts, and they say that the teacher is something else.
"Yeah, he is. At least from what I saw when I was a kid."
"Oh? So you know him, don't you?" Asked Hemione who followed the two of them closely, walking a few yards behind the boys.
Draco winced at the familiar voice, turning his head to look down upon the girl.
"Yes, I do, in a way. I don't see how is it any of your business, though. Don't you have anything better to do than overhearing what other people are talking about?"
The girl's cheeks reddened as she gasped,
"I—I wasn't trying to overhear! Honestly, I—"
"You what?" Draco stopped, and so did Ron, both of them turning around to face the muggle born witch. "Seriously, Granger, this is like the third time just today when you get on my nerves. I couldn't care less about your origins, but I swear, you are such an annoyance. Could you please leave us alone? For good, if possible. I think it is obvious that we do not enjoy your company at all." He regretted saying it the next second as he noticed the girl's eyes fill up with tears.
"I—I'm sorry...," she nearly whispered, rushing forward to get past the two of them and disappear somewhere up the stairs as soon as she could.
"Gosh, I hate such upstarts. Who does she think she is?" muttered Draco, to which Ron shrugged indifferently.
"No idea. Well, you know, she's a muggle born, so I wouldn't expect much from her. I mean, she knows nothing about our world, doesn't she?"
"I suppose," said Draco, going forward again. "To be honest, the only muggle born I ever talked to prior to Hogwarts is Professor Potter."
"Oh? Really?" Ron gasped, looking at his friend in awe. "Is that why you were so careful during her class?"
"Yeah, sort of. She's a very nice person. You could say that she was the reason why I actually stopped believing all the pure blood wizards' teachings about their supremacy with muggle born being inferior and so on. I mean, one doesn't simply defeat the Dark Lord without being exceptionally powerful, and she was one of those who did it."
"Agreed. Actually, in my family, muggles and muggle born wizards were never bashed, or at least I can't remember a single time anyone said something negative about them, not counting my mom's wrath when it comes to dad's obsession with muggle inventions. They are pretty cool, but kinda frightening, too."
"Yea, Harry has shown me some. They looked interesting, but I'd rather avoid touching them since I have now idea how they work." They stopped as they noticed something each of the boys partly expected to happen after Harry ran away so quickly. Still, no matter how predictable it was, Draco hoped that his best friend wouldn't go for something as reckless.
"Damn it...," he whispered, running towards the familiar boy who was sitting on the cold stone floor, leaning against the wall, holding his wand being broken in two pieces.
"Hey, Nott! Are you alright?" Draco stopped next to the Slytherin, bowing down to look into his half-open, depressed eyes.
"Yeah... Get lost, Malfoy."
Draco frowned, and so did Ron. Something was totally off with Theodore. He looked very hurt, both mentally and physically, and going as far as to break one's wand was not in Harry's character at all. He was passionate, but not cruel or foolish by any means. If his friend wanted revenge, he would act far more subtly than this...
In other words, it couldn't have been Harry... Or could it?
"Look, I know that we're not exactly friends, but if Harry did this to you—," Draco stopped, noticing Nott's face twist hatefully.
"Potter? Him again? Seriously? Why are you all obsessed with him that much? Malfoy, you of all people should know better than sticking to this blood traitor!" Stopping Ron who moved his hand to take his wand out the same second, evidently angered by Nott's words, Draco frowned and muttered,
"So it wasn't Harry who did this to you. Then who?"
It was clear that it was hard to for the dark haired Slytherin to even raise his head up to meet the slightly compassionate and suspicious gaze of his adversary.
"Please. As if this moron could do anything to me. As to who—it's none of your business. Get lost now, you bastards!"
Letting out a heavy sigh, Draco walked away, pulling the reluctant Ron along — it was clear that Weasley wanted to push further to find out the truth, but it would be dishonorable to abuse Nott's undeniably weak position. Totally unworthy of pure bloods like them, Malfoy decided.
After a minute of silent walking, Ron finally opened his mouth,
"Now that was really weird. Who could possibly break his wand and beat the crap out of him? I mean, Nott sure is a douchebag, but to go this far... I guess he crossed the way of someone important. Probably some older students. Maybe even Fred and George..."
"Don't you think it could be Harry, after all?" Asked Draco carefully, which made Ron chuckle.
"Harry? Really? You kidding, aren't you?"
"Well, it is a possibility—"
"Meh, it's not. I mean, Harry is the most peaceful guy in our year. Besides, you know him far longer than me. Has he ever shown any signs of being a psycho who beats up people for some worthless shit talk?"
After thinking about it for a few seconds, Draco shook his head,
"No, you're right, he hasn't. But it kinda complicates things a little bit," he said as they turned to the passage that led to the moving stairs.
"Complicate? How?"
"Well, try to look at it from a Slytherin's point of view. Should anyone find out about what happened to Nott—and they obviously will, seeing as his wand is broken—after what had happened during the Potions class, who is the first suspect that comes to your mind?"
Ron frowned, nodding in understanding.
"Okay, I get it. Are you implying that this person could try and frame Harry?"
Draco sighed as they stopped to wait for a stair to fly toward them.
"I bet that this is what's happening now. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if Nott did that on purpose."
"Did what? Broke his own wand? Blimey, Malfoy, you must be kidding!"
"Who broke his own wand?" Asked the familiar voice from behind their backs, making both the Gryffindors flinch and turn around the next second.
"Harry! Where the heck were you?"
"Just wanted to let out some steam," the black haired boy smirked to his friends, stepping onto the stair and turning around to look at them. "What's up? You two look as if someone got killed in front of you."
"Well, that's not far from the truth," said Draco quietly, making The Boy Who Lived frown as they started to walk upstairs again.
"Huh? Now that is interesting. What happened?"
"Someone attacked Nott right after Potions. We kinda thought that—"
"You thought what? That I ran away to hide and ambush Nott? Really, guys?" Harry's brow cocked skeptically, making Draco and Ron look away shamefully.
"Uh... No, actually we thought it was unlikely, though not impossible. We found him near the entrance to the Dungeons, and he looked like something was hurting him, possibly a curse. And his wand is broken, like we said earlier. But when we tried to help him out, he told us to go away. Strange, isn't it?"
Harry nodded.
"Yeah... Strange to say the least. Actually, I think it's worthy of an investigation." Harry scratched his nape, looking up in the direction of the classroom they were heading to. "Our next class is with Slytherin again, is that correct?"
"Indeed," Draco nodded approvingly.
"We should split up so that our field of vision covers the entire room. During the class, try to watch everyone very carefully, especially Slytherins. It's impossible for them not to discuss whatever happened to him, at least briefly. Anything they'll say on the matter is valuable information for us, even if it seems meaningless at first. Try to write down everything so that we don't lose any details."
"Woah, Harry. You speak like an Auror now," Ron grinned, making both Draco and Harry smirk as well.
"That's what I intend to become, after all. You guys should think about it as well, you know."
"Hey, don't be the second McGonagall. It's too early for that stuff yet!" groaned Ron as they approached the classroom they were heading to.
This time, they came way earlier than most, so the three friends managed to take the spots in different corners of the spacious room with something similar to a small arena in the middle, which made Harry's mood get significantly better. Were they going to have duels here?
But no matter how appealing this idea was to him, he had to put it aside for a while as the boy noticed how Slytherins started to arrive, sitting down and ignoring him completely, which was unusual yet expected considering what happened to Nott — they obviously thought that he was the one who did this. Was that what the person who had done that counted for? Or was it just collateral damage, so to say...?
Harry wasn't sure, but he was dedicated to find out. Whoever it was, he was grateful to this person for two things: first, kicking Nott's sorry ass; second — making the school life a whole lot less boring, which was probably even more important to young Potter. And no matter what intention did he or she really have, these two factors alone made this person an ally in Harry's eyes.
At least for now.
He didn't notice how everyone took their spots across the classroom and their teacher finally appeared.
"Take the books away, you are not going to need them here."
Everyone did as they were told, including Harry who smiled in anticipation — he was already beginning to like this man.
"My name is Severus Snape. From now on, I will teach you how magic really works."
Both the Gryffindors and Slytherins went completely silent, staring at the mesmerizing, gloomy man who had managed to impress them with just these two short sentences.
He was dressed in a simple black robe with white shirt showing up from behind it. His hair was black, too, and it reached a bit past his shoulders. Although his face wasn't the most appealing to say the least, all in all he looked more mysterious rather than ugly or repulsive since he was dressed neatly and appeared well-groomed.
His black eyes suddenly stopped on the empty spot next to Daphne.
"Where is Mr. Nott?"
"He went to the Hospital Wing," replied the girl, looking completely impassive.
"What happened to him?"
"He said that he tripped at the stairs and fell down. I haven't witnessed it, but he is alright aside from his wand."
Snape peered at her searchingly for a few seconds before slowly nodding,
"Fine. For all I know, a new wand is not a problem for his family. It is unfortunate that he is going to skip the first lesson, though. Well, no matter." He turned his head to look around the classroom, stopping for a second to look into Harry's eyes that were filled with uncovered excitement. "First of all, I am going to set a few rules of utmost importance. If you follow these rules accurately while you study my subject, you will do just fine and there will be little to no difficulties for you. Break a rule, and you are going to face a whole lot of trouble." He locked his hands in front of himself and started walking back and forth slowly. "Rule number one — there is no Dark Magic, there are Dark Wizards. Every single spell, including the infamous Killing Curse, was designed by people for certain purposes that can be either good or bad, depending on your point of view. Spells, wands and magic are merely tools in the hands of people, and it is up to us which is Dark and which is not. Mr. Potter," he called out suddenly, turning toward the boy. "Could you give us an example of a single spell being good and evil in different situations?"
Harry raised up from his spot, thinking for a moment before replying,
"Yes, sir. There are countless examples — for instance, the exploding spell. One could use it to attack or even to kill someone during a fight, or, on the other hand, it can be used to free someone from a trap or to gather resources for building."
"Very well, five points to Gryffindor. Ms. Davis, another example?"
The brown haired Slytherin girl raised up as well, mumbling quietly,
"Uh... Well, the pushing spell can be counted, I guess? I mean, you could use it to build something or to do something helpful, and at the same time, you could use it to make someone fall down from a height..."
Harry's eyes widened as his head snapped in the direction of the girl. Of course, it was a very basic example, yet still... Something in her trembling, insecure voice made him thought that there was something beneath that. Could it be that she actually knew what exactly had happened to Nott? From what Draco and Ron had said to him, it was very possible that someone had pushed the Slytherin down the stairs so that Theodore had broken his wand as he had fallen down.
"Yes, that is a good example as well. Five points to Slytherin. Hopefully all of you get the idea now. No matter what reputation a spell might have, it is still neither good or evil itself. You are the ones who command magic and define it, not the other way around. Now, rule number two. During our practice, you do what I tell you to do. If I say 'jump', you jump. If I tell you to stop breathing, then you stop breathing until I allow you to. It is crucial for you to follow every single instruction of mine in order to make it out of this room alive. In exchange, I promise that none of you is going to get hurt unless you do something wrong. I hope it is clear as well."
There was a discordant chorus of affirmative replies, to which Snape nodded approvingly.
"And the last but not least. You may or may not be talented in magical arts, it doesn't matter here. But if you want to become decent wizards, you must first of all realize that since magic is a tool, it is used by other people. Contrary to how it could seem to you after attending certain classes, it is not an abstract concept that we study theoretically and try to decipher its deepest meanings. First of all, it is something that is bound to be used against you at some point. That means that knowing how a spell works is far less important than knowing how other wizards' minds work. Besides, as it's been proven by practice, every spell has a weakness," his eyes stopped on Harry for a second again. "Knowing this, you should realize that the most important thing is to figure your opponents out and to outsmart them, not necessarily to outfight them."
Every single student present in the classroom seemed to be completely awed by the little lecture Snape had given them, and that was only the beginning of a long lesson.
Harry turned to glance at Draco and Ron — they appeared to be pretty impressed and interested, just like The Boy Who Lived himself.
He grinned.
They had just found their favorite subject, so it seemed.
Three chapters left for the prologue part. Please, don't forget to leave a review! It is very important for me to know what you guys think. Even a few trivial words mean a lot to me and sometimes make me want to start writing right away instead of doing something else!