Again, a spaced out update but I write like hell when I get the time. Thanks to all at DLP who helped out, especially Chaosguy and Roabuntu. Feel free to leave a review and if you have any specific questions I'll do my best to respond.

Chapter Three

Harry rose the next morning, awakened by the stream of soft light creeping through his curtains. He sat up against his headboard and stretched, the dormitory was mostly silent save for a few grunting snores. He poked his head out of the curtains and looked up at the large bronze clock on the wall. The serpentine hands pointed to just after half past six and he was sorely tempted to lie back down but the fear of sleeping in and his excitement led him to crawl over to his trunk and fish out his transfiguration book.

Fifteen minutes later and having read the same paragraph five times, he gave it up as a bad job. The sock he had been attempting to turn fluffy remained stubbornly thin even though he was sure his wand movement and incantation were correct.

He threw on his robes and crept softly out of the dorm only to be stopped by a tired voice.

"It's an hour and a half to breakfast, Potter."

Harry turned and saw Theodore's bleary eyes peeking out from behind the bed curtains.

"It's the first day, I'm just excited," he said, defensively.

Theodore shook his head and pulled the curtain back clearly not enthused by Harry's attitude so he carried on up the steps to the common room. At first glance it was deserted and with the lights being dimmed as well as the fire reduced to embers the space was imbued with an otherworldly green hue.

"It's a little grim, isn't it?" Came a voice from behind him.

Harry turned to see Draco sitting on a chair behind him cradling a book in his lap.

"I suppose, it feels really magical though. It's like something from a storybook." He replied.

"I suppose, like something from The Mugwump's tower," Draco said.

"Or the wizard of Oz."

"Haven't read that one."

A less than comfortable silence followed before Harry ventured. "What has you up so early? I thought I was the only one."

"I couldn't sleep and what else was their to do but lie around."

Harry brightened at this. "Exactly, we're in a castle to learn magic and they're all snoring like my cousin. Want to try to find our way back upstairs?"

"Okay," Draco said, getting up and grabbing his book. "They might have breakfast ready by the time we get up there. I heard the have their common room on the ground floor in case they get lost."

"We could get lost pretty easily," he pointed out.

"Yes but they're Hufflepuffs." Draco replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Come on, let's get our bags now just in case."

They retrieved their bags, careful not to wake their dorm mates and ventured into the draughty corridors. In the end it seemed as if they couldn't get lost if they tried. Several obviously dead ends mysteriously opened up as they approached, ushering them into a commonly used route. Harry began to wonder if the castle was herding them in the right direction when they emerged into the entrance hall.

When they entered the Great Hall they found it less deserted than the rest of the castle. There were a smattering of students, mostly Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs while the staff table held Hagrid, who offered Harry a cheery wave, alongside Professors McGonagall a cheerful looking witch in bright green and yellow robes.

They took seats at the Slytherin table and Draco immediately pulled out his book and tapped his wand on the table causing it to wobble violently as a full spread of breakfast popped into existence in front of him. Harry copied him and was soon treated to sausages, eggs, toast, cereals and all manner of breakfast food to choose from.

Draco had taken to reading his book in silence and Harry was happy to do likewise surreptitiously casting the transfiguration spell at his sock under the table. It constricted violemtly after the dozenth attempt and yelped as he bumped his knee off the table. Broken out of his trance he looked around to see the hall had filled up quite a bit. He saw Daphne and Theodore approach and waved them over, the latter looking like he'd been dragged out of bed.

"Morning," he said as they sat down.

"Good morning," Daphne replied as she poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice and grabbed some toast.

Theodore said nothing but lay his head on his arms only for the blonde witch to hit him on the head with a scone. "Eat something misery guts. Your mother made me promise I'd make you eat breakfast."

In response he simply picked up the scone and took a small bite before lying back down on his arms.

"What's up with him?" Harry asked, bemused.

"Theo's a pampered prince whose mother never made him get up before the afternoon," Daphne said.

"This is a stupid time of the day to eat let alone be awake. What's wrong with starting and ending the day later?" Came a muffled retort.

It was a notion Harry couldn't imagine, having gotten up bright and early as long as he could remember but there was a small part of him that suddenly envied Theodore's laziness.

Harry's musings were cut short when a thick piece of parchment landed beside him. He looked up to see a tall student with lank blonde hair and a pinched face, prefect badge shining on his chest.

"Your timetables," he said, handing them out to the students around Harry before moving along down the table.

They had Transfiguration first, followed by Potions and then lunch.

Harry thought about his morning's failed attempts at transfiguration and all of a sudden felt very anxious indeed.

Draco, he noticed, had brightened considerably on the news.

"Big fan of transfiguration?" Harry asked.

The other boy looked up in confusion. "What? Well yes it's a useful branch of magic but I didn't think we'd be lucky enough to get potions on the first day."

Potions was one of the subjects Harry had paid least attention to in his months at Rookhope. It just seemed less magical and as a result he'd put it largely to the back of his mind however Draco's excitement suggested there was more to the subject than following a recipe with strange ingredients.

They talked together animatedly as they gathered their things and headed off to the first lesson. Daphne was of the opinion that as first years they would begin by transfiguring like to like and as such they would begin by transfiguring Goyle into a boulder.

Pansy and Blaise had caught up to them at this point and Blaise suggested swap fungal pods would be more fitting. Harry felt a pang of guilt for making fun of the two boys but wasn't willing to play the odd one out.

Eventually they found the transfiguration classroom and filed inside to find the Ravenclaws had all made it first. He spotted Kevin and Terry at the edge of the group, the former waving and made his way over to them.

"Hello, how was your first night in Ravenclaw?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the desk beside them.

"Great, you wouldn't believe how cool the common room is," Kevin grinned. "How's Slytherin?"

"I heard it's really creepy down in the dungeons." Terry added.

"The dungeons aren't the nicest but the common room is great and the prefects are pretty nice so far. There's a big window ou- ouch!" Harry yelped, turning to Pansy who'd just hit him with her transfiguration book.

"Do you want to tell them the password too, Potter?" She asked, sarcasm oozing around her words.

"Only if they promise to use it to kidnap you," He replied, rubbing his arm.

Pansy looked like she was about to reply but she was distracted by the appearance of a large tabby cat slinking it's way through her legs.

"Oh hello there," she said dropping down to her hunkers and stroking it's fur. "You're much nicer than smelly boys."

Harry would have been offended had the cat not morphed in a swirl of colour and grown into the stern form of Professor McGonagall. Gasps echoed around the room and Pansy jumped back with a scream falling flat on her behind.

"Let this be a lesson not to pet every random stray you see, Miss Parkinson." She said primly, walking to the front of the room. "Everyone take their seats and open your books to chapter one."

The scrapes of chairs on stone echoed as everyone took their seats and as Kevin and Terry were already sat together he took the vacant seat beside Draco.

They spent the first hour of the lesson listening to McGonagall explain the art of Transfiguration. It was both less and more than simply "changing one thing into another," while it certainly was that she also hammered home the point that there were far more complex forces at work. Looking around, Harry saw that many of his classmates faces looked intimidated including some of the supposedly studious Ravenclaws.

When the time came for an attempt at the practical side of things the professor handed out matchsticks and instructed them to turn them into needles.

"This is your first attempt at transfiguration and as such I don't expect any of you to complete your task today but with practice and proper study you should all have bright new needles by next week." McGonagall said, casting her eyes across the room. "You may begin." She said, slightly impatient.

The class jolted into action and there was soon a low murmur of incantations and sounds of frustration permeating every corner of the room.

"Mutare," came an almost whisper beside him. Unlike what Harry had seen of his classmates so far Draco's matchstick took on a definite silver hue and the end tapered slightly.

Harry cast the spell for himself, visualizing the needle in front of him instead. Nothing happened, not even a wobble. He repeated the spell over and over again and repeatedly failed to get even the meagrest of results while beside him Draco had managed to form almost a perfect needle, albeit with the end still a small red bump.

"You're really good at this," Harry said enviously.

"Not good enough," came the frustrated reply. He sat back in his chair almost petulantly before looking at Harry's own progress. "You haven't done anything to yours."

"Well spotted," he replied, a touch tetchily.

"I thought the famous Harry Potter would be great at magic but you're almost like a muggle." There was no malice in Draco's voice, he could have been talking about a particularly strange looking cockroach but it stung all the same.

"Cheers Draco." he said sourly, "I didn't get to grow up with magic like you."

At this Draco looked genuinely perplexed, like the cockroach had started spouting German poetry at him.

"What do you-" he started but was interrupted by the looking shadow of Professor McGonagall.

"Very well done, Mr. Malfoy. I daresay you've made the most progress with this so far. Five points to Slytherin," She announced before picking up his mostly needle and walking over to pick up Terry's.

She held both up before the class. "You see here the best two examples the class has managed so far. Mr. Boot's is a very well done first effort. The matchstick remains it's shape and overall coarseness yes but you'll find it's entirely metallic."

She then raised up Draco's. "This however is the level I expect you to all be at next week. It's taken on not only the composition but the shape is largely correct too. It's almost perfect."

Draco coloured slightly with the praise while Terry looked a little miffed at being used as an example of second best. For his own part Harry quickly stashed his matchstick into his Transfiguration book and closed it over as they were dismissed.

After they left the classroom Harry waved goodbye to Terry and Kevin who were off to Charms and took the stairs downwards towards potions. Draco had packed up and left faster than anyone so Harry walked himself until blonde hair flashed and Daphne appeared beside him matching his stride.

"How did you do with that?" She asked.

Harry grimaced. "Not very well. How about you?"

She produced what would be a perfect seeing needle had it not been mostly made of phosphorus.

"McGonagall said I have excellent fine control but I'm struggling with 'asserting my will.' How can magic that transforms things into anything you want be so utterly dull?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

"I think it's interesting, I just don't think I'm very good at it." He said ruefully.

"Padma says Kevin told her you were raised by muggles, is it true? That could be why." She had a curious look on her face that wasn't dissimilar from Draco's earlier and Harry found he was beginning to get annoyed at that look.

"Yes, is that such a big deal?" He snapped.

"It's just really strange. You're the Boy-Who-Lived and they let muggles raise you while the Death Eaters are still around?"

Harry just shrugged, "They're the only family I had. I don't live with them anymore anyway, Death Eaters set my last school on fire so Professor Dumbledore came and took me away."

"You think if we get lots of homework they'll try that here?" She mused.

Harry looked at her, incredulous.

"I'm joking,"

"They're not funny, Daphne. They're terrifying."

"You're the heroic Harry Potter. Once you figure out how to transfigure a matchstick into a sword they'll be no match for you," she grinned.

"I'd settle for a needle for now." He said drily.

They reached the entrance hall and turned towards the dungeons.

"What was it like, living with muggles?" She asked suddenly.

"They weren't very nice. My cousin Dudley is as big as a whale and nowhere near as smart."

Daphne wrinkled her nose, "My father says that they all smell like pigs because they can't clean themselves properly."

The image of two large and one horribly underfed pigs bounding around Privet Drive appeared in Harry's mind and before he couldn't help himself from laughing.

"Thinking about Dudley's bedroom your father might be right," he smiled causing Daphne to nod as if vindicated.

Their descent into the dungeons ended in a long bleak corridor with several iron doors on either side. At the terminus a great oak door with iron fittings lay open and when they entered they saw that they had perhaps dawdled as most of the first year Gryffindors and Slytherin were already present.

"Did you see anyone pass us?" He asked quietly as the mood in the large chamber was subdued.

"No and I know for a fact we left before Pansy and Theo." She said slowly.

Unlike the communal gathering before Transfiguration where people talked freely everyone was sat face forward and the houses were divided by a large central aisle. Harry and Daphne took a pair of seats near the back and took out their potions texts in silence.

At exactly eleven thirty the large door shut off its own accord with a large bang and the shadowy figure of Professor Snape rose from his chair and stood before the class.

He was an extremely thin man with a chalk white face and long limp hair framing a hooked nose. When he paced side to side he did so with his back straight and his head bowed slightly. Harry thought he looked quite like Count Dracula except quite a bit more menacing.

"I don't expect many of you to appreciate the inherent beauty of potion making. Very few leave these halls with a true understanding of the art so enamoured are they with the flashier magics," he began. Complete silence permeated the room. "I can teach you to-" he was interrupted by the classroom door swinging open and two boys almost falling in the room.

The two boys felt the pressure of dozens of eyes on them and almost threw themselves into the nearest seats with mumbled apologies. It wasn't enough to spare them from Snape's wrath.

The potions master glided down the aisle and came to a stop in front of the two Gryffindors. A small dark skinned boy with short cut hair and a lanky redhead, both stared resolutely ahead as if acting normal would prompt Snape to leave them alone.

"Your name, boy?" Snape asked quietly.

"Dean Thomas, Sir."

"Ron W-" the second boy started but Snape cut him off. "Weasley, yes. As if it might have been a mystery." Snape drawled. "I assume you lost your way here, did you forgot your potions texts."

"Professor we just took a wrong turn," Weasley protested.

"I have no doubt, was it boarding the train to Hogwarts perhaps?" Snape said softly. Without warning he strode to the front of the room. "If any of you are ever late to my class again it's one week of detention with me. I can use the time to bludgeon some respect for my class into your skulls."

Having just made it into the class himself Harry felt some degree of sympathy for the two boys who looked visibly shaken.

The next ten minutes were something of a Q&A with some particularly difficult questions aimed at Weasley and Thomas who by the end were labelled as 'incompetent dunderheads.' When their interrogation was over Snape summoned a large blackboard with the recipe for a hiccoughing potion and set them to work.

Over an hour later Harry's cauldron was emitting a light blue mist. The recipe on the board and his book both stated that the final elixir should be a deep blue and Daphne's was much closer to that than his but he bottled a sample anyway.

When Snape made his way to their workbench he nodded in approval at Daphne's potion before picking up Harry's and running a close eye over it.

"This might relieve some minor indigestion but it won't cure you of the hiccoughs." He said placing the vial back and scratching on his piece of parchment.

Harry gathered his equipment and stashed it in his assigned cupboard leaving the classroom disappointed for the second time that morning.

Lunch was a rowdy affair with everyone discussing the morning's classes, Harry didn't feel much like joining in but he laughed along with them about Pansy getting scolded by McGonagall and the terrified Gryffindor boys in potions.

Charms was first thing after lunch, again with Ravenclaw and Harry wasn't feeling totally optimistic. He knew he hadn't performed terribly in either of his classes so far it was just that he happened to be sitting beside two people who had been far better than him.

The charms corridor on the third floor was rather inconveniently located near the rear of the castle and quite a walk around the wings of the building. The first year Slytherins walked together and talked boisterously about the upcoming lesson but Harry hung back, slightly resentful of their enthusiasm.

The classroom itself was the strangest room Harry had seen in the castle so far. Where the Transfiguration classroom was almost austere and the potions laboratory was bringing with all manner of ingredients and equipment strictly ordered, the Charms room help haphazard towers of books and parchment leaning over at impossible angles. Silver and gold spheres ranging in size from golf ball to beach ball danced lazily across the ceiling in a pattern Harry couldn't discern with Ruby coloured motes of light occasionally hopped from one to another.

At the far end of the long narrow room twin staircases curled up and inwards to a skeletal think marble podium and atop that sat Professor Flitwick, all of three foot tall with a beard every bit as wizardly as the Headmaster's.

"Good afternoon first years!" He exclaimed from his perch as they filed into the room. "Come now take your seats. Doesn't matter where as long as you can see and hear!"

They took their seats and Harry found himself sat next to Blaise who was still entranced by the orbs floating high above them.

"Now, who can tell me the fundimental difference between Charms and let's say, Transfiguration?" Flitwick asked.

A flurry of hands shot up and he clapped his hands in excitement. "Excellent, excellent. So most of you clearly have an idea, how about you?" He asked, looking down at Harry who hadn't volunteered.

"Transfiguration changes an object from one thing to another. Charmswork affects the object and can give or take away properties." He replied, thankful both for his own reading and the chance to talk to Hestia about magic during his final weeks at Rookhope.

"Yes that's it exactly. I could talk for hours about the exact differences between the schools of magic but that sums it up quite nicely. In fact, you will find that many schools of magic fall into the scope of Charms. Defense against the dark arts for example employs a variety of protective enchantments and Professor Snape and I have had many an animated discussion about why Potions are essentially Charmswork."

Privately, Harry thought that 'animated' might have been putting it very mildly.

"For your first, most basic lesson in this class you will be adding an effect," Flitwick continued while motioning with his wand. A small chest to his left opened and a flurry of feathers shot out, each one drifting down in front of a student. "The levitation charm works as the name suggests, it makes an object levitate. Now, who could hazard a guess as to why we start off with a feather?"

Almost every hand in the class rose and Flitwick let out a little chuckle. "Okay then, Ms. Patil," he chose.

"Because it's light," she said simply.

"Correct, yet also wrong. Anybody else?"

This time nobody rose their hand but Harry suspected he knew the answer.

"Nobody? Not entirely unexpected. We use-" he began but stopped suddenly. "Yes Mr. Potter?"

He could feel the eyes of the class on him and his neck began to heat up.

"With the levitation charm the weight of the object doesn't matter. It's just easier for us to believe we can make a feather float than if we used rocks."

"Exactly right! Two points to Slytherin. With mastery of the levitation charm you could float a castle, a feat that has been successfully performed no less than four times over the ages. Some people believe that Ortissimo the hermit is still floating around the sky in his invisible fortress enjoying permanent peace and quiet," he chuckled.

The next half hour was split between practicing wand movements and pronunciation and when it was time to cast the charm Harry gave a quick swish and a flick. He was surprised when the feather floated straight upwards, higher and higher until it sat among the dancing orbs. He found it just as easy to command the feather to be less buoyant and brought it back down in front of him.

"Excellent work Mr. Potter!" Flitwick said, floating himself down from his large podium and approaching Harry's desk. "Five well deserved points. Can you repeat the spell?"

Harry reddened slightly at the praise but he cast the charm again and floated the feather with a good deal more control than his first attempt.

The Charms professor talked about his precision of movement and his fine control and Harry, while still feeling somewhat embarrassed began to enjoy the praise. It was a definite relief after a morning where he hadn't exactly excelled to manage the spell, never mind being the first to do so. When the time came for them to pack up and depart Harry was feeling decidedly more cheery.

History of Magic was the first class they shared with Hufflepuff and it was more than enough to suck the cheer right out of him. Professor Binns was an actual ghost, a fact that nobody had bothered to share with them before the class and Harry was amazed at how the spirit could lull a whole class of hungry kids to near sleep.

The history of a magical world he never knew existed, which his family had always been a part of boiled down to two hours of discussion on a millennial old treaty between Goblins and Ogres. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that the topic would have been quite a bit more interesting if it had been taught by a member of the living and resolved to do some of his own study on the topic.

The Slytherins and Hufflepuff fled as soon as the class was over and jointly headed to the Great Hall, bemoaning seven years of History of Magic.

"I mean, it's not like we can hope he'll retire or anything. We're stuck with him," Theodore groaned.

"Fletchly told me there's a curse on the Defense against the dark arts job, think we could curse the History job?" Harry pondered.

"The Boy-Who-Lived talking about casting a curse, I can't believe it," Susan Bones said with a horrified expression.

"They do say never meet your heroes," Harry replied.

"Especially if you need sewing equipment transfigured."

Harry shoved Theodore lightly and the curly haired boy stumbled before shooting Harry a look of pity, "That was very muggle of you."

Daphne, Susan and Blaise all grinned and Harry could only grumble.

The Great Hall was heaving with people at dinner time but there was a tension in the air when they walked in. Harry noticed several teachers were missing from the staff table and the ones who were present we're deep in conversation. They bade goodbye to the Hufflepuff and joined the Slytherin table.

"What's going on?" He heard Draco ask as he followed them in a few moments later.

"Don't know, we only just got here ahead of you," Harry said before spotting Alaistair Monroe walking up the floor.

"Hey Alastair, has something happened?" He asked as the older student walked by.

"Hello Harry. There's been some news trickling in on the wireless, apparently Death Eaters have attacked Paris."

There were gasps of shock around him but Harry remained quiet, a cold spike of fear lodging itself in his gut.

Monroe looked grave as he continued. "We don't know much but it sounds as if the French were slow in responding and a lot of people are hurt. People are already calling for Minister Crouch's head after Diagon Alley, no doubt he'll cop the blame for this too."

Harry zoned out, transported back to the day Remus was killed. The panic flooded him again and he thought he could smell Flourish and Blotts burning.

"Thanks Alaistair," he said, turn in back to a dinner he no longer felt like eating.

"What would the Death Eaters want to attack Paris for? It's so beautiful," Daphne said, downcast.

Harry was surprised to see that Draco looked more shaken than even he felt. The blonde boy's fists were clenched and he looked absolutely furious.

"Don't let it get to you, Draco, they'll definitely be caught soon now they have the French after them too," Theodore said.

"Shut up, Nott." Draco snapped.

"You shut up, I was only trying to be nice," Nott replied irritability.

"Both of you shut up," Daphne said tiredly.

The boys glared at each other before Draco grabbed a bread roll and got up, stalking away from the table.

"That was weird," Harry stated.

His classmates shared a look and Harry thought it looked quite like they were having a heated debate in silence. Eventually Daphne turned to him.

"A few years after you got rid of You-Know-Who the Death Eaters that hadn't been caught came back for the first time. They killed Draco's dad and set his house on fire." She said quietly.

"And these are the same people that attacked Paris and Diagon Alley," Harry finished, finally understanding Draco's reaction.

"Draco was really young when it happened so he didn't know much about it but a few years ago he stopped calling over to Montague's or Theo's and now he just tries to avoid people." Daphne continued.

Harry felt a large well of pity for his housemate. He had entered the wizarding world with a Target on his back and strange as it was, he'd gotten used to it. Killing him wasn't their only goal and that actually made him feel better, at least until the guilt of thinking those thoughts caught up to him a moment later.

Harry pinched a slice of toast from the table and got up.

"I'll see you guys after," he said before walking after Draco.

It wasn't long until he caught up with his classmate. Harry had guessed he'd go back to the common room but as he entered the dungeons the stone slabbed corridors seemed to lead him in a different direction. Eventually he ended up near a small row of abandoned rooms, one of which had the door ajar.

Inside, Draco was sat on a dusty old wingback chair.

"What do you want, Potter?" He asked, staring at him.

"Well I was going back to the common room but I ended up here," Harry lied, taking a bite of toast.

"Then go away, you'll end up there eventually."

"Or you could stop being a prat and help me?"

"Why would I help you?" Draco asked.

"Because it would be the nice thing to do?"

Draco scoffed, "If you can't find your way to the common room maybe you shouldn't be in Slytherin."

Harry was starting to get annoyed at the boy's attitude and his own tempter flared. "I don't know why I bother coming after you, sit here and sulk on your own." Harry turned and left the dusty old room behind, the corridor suddenly appearing to lead to more familiar territory. He was soon back in the common room and settled down at a table beside the large windows.

Draco had acted like a brat but Harry knew he was upset. He couldn't pretend the news of the Paris attack hadn't shaken him too. Whatever they were up to it wasn't good.

In the soft eerie light of the lake, Harry took one of the matchsticks out of his pocket and started attempting to transfigure it.

Hours later the hearths had died and Harry was slumped asleep on the armchair, a shiny bright needle in front of him.