September 1992

Harry told Neville about the voice he'd heard, and Neville suggested it was probably the Bloody Baron passing by – he was the most frightening of the castle's ghosts. Ghosts tended to fixate on their pasts, and if they didn't concentrate, or were in a low magical area, they'd start re-enacting the pivotal events that led to their deaths.

"Why does it matter if there's a lot of magic in the area or not?" asked Harry, curious.

"I don't know sorry, it's just what I've heard. That ghosts in Muggle areas are more mindless, and more prone to echoing just a few things from their lives," Neville explained apologetically.

"Hmm, interesting. Do you think there's ghost-fighting spells? Could he hurt anyone?"

"I don't know. I hope not! Surely not if he's a House ghost?"

They both sat thoughtfully for a while before Neville broke the silence. "By the way Harry, I wanted to say thanks for the wand."

"Your new birthday one?"

"Yes, Charms in particular has been so much easier with my new wand! I've been trying out both the past month, and while I love having my dad's wand, having my own is making such a difference. So thanks again." Neville gave him a little formal bow of gratitude, since they were in the relative privacy of the House common room, and Harry did a polite nod of acknowledgment in return.

Charms was more interesting this year for Harry too, as with his new grade goal of an EE (Flitwick wasn't accepting anything less from him anyway) he was participating a bit more in class discussions, and thought it safe to ask an occasional question. (Flitwick seemed to favour students who asked intelligent questions more than those who merely answered them, something Hermione hadn't seemed to quite grasp yet despite his hints to her about toning it down.) The magical theory they were working on at the moment was concentrating on building magical power at the point of a wand before releasing it – Harry had never focused on the feel of magic flowing through the wand before – he'd thought you just waved the wand and said the magic words. He was forced to admit it was fascinating.

This year in Charms they would also be learning a variety of new spells such as the very useful Engorgement Charm and its counter-spell, the Shrinking Charm. Many spells in this year's book were ones Harry had practised last year, such as the Fire-Making and Light Charms, so it should be an easy subject to coast through – he'd be able to spend more study time on Muggle subjects, and his own Charms projects like practising the Shield spell, the Disillusionment Charm, and Apparition. The first one he'd been working on since first year for general defence – it was proving to be fiendishly difficult, and it was hard to practice without a partner to test the strength of his shield. The last two were spells he'd read up on in books on Charms from his parents' collection (which was half novels and half spell books), as the most likely to help him sneak away from Hogsmeade next year undetected. His invisibility cloak in combination with the Knight Bus would be a good backup plan if need be, but the bus would be more time consuming than Apparition, and he knew the Headmaster could see through his cloak somehow. Apparition sounded a bit frightening to get wrong, so he was starting with pure theory.

A few weeks into term, Harry was asked to report to Professor McGonagall's office. After an exchange of casual greetings and asking after his health (fine, thank you), she got down to business.

"Now Harry, as the Deputy Headmistress I need to speak with you about an irregularity with the automatic payment of your Hogwarts fees this year. I hope there's no problem with the goblins, or overspending? Your payment never arrived in the Hogwarts vault, you see."

"No Professor, there's still plenty of gold in my vault. I'm not sure what… Oh, I know!" he said, realising what the problem must be. "I cancelled access to my vault for anyone other than myself," he explained, omitting that Neville would also have access, for emergencies.

"Oh! Well you seem to have accidentally cancelled the automatic withdrawal of funds for Hogwarts tuition, Mr. Potter."

"I realise that now ma'am, I apologise for my inadvertent error. I do appreciate that you and Professor Dumbledore purchased me a broom with my funds when I required it, but I would prefer to be in full charge of my own finances in the future."

"Your own money paid for that? Are you sure?" Professor McGonagall looked startled – perhaps she hadn't been in on the plan after all, despite being the one to send him the broom.

"Yes ma'am, I have reviewed my vault statement – it makes it quite clear that Professor Dumbledore withdrew money for 'essential transportation needs' for myself around the right date. There is little doubt."

"I thought… he said it was a gift," she said, looking concerned.

Harry fumed on the inside, but kept his expression serious and calm.

"A gift for me purchased with my own money is a paltry kind of gift," said Harry, sitting up straight with a stiff back in the approved fashion for a politely offended pure-blood. This week Pansy had been working with him again on his body language.

"I'm sure he meant it for the best," she said, with feeble optimism. "After all, you don't have a way to access your vault during term, and you really did need a new broom, as Seeker."

"That as may be, it should have been a decision I was consulted on."

"Well yes, that seems reasonable to me too. I'm glad you've sorted matters out to your satisfaction, Harry."

"As am I," he said politely. "And I'd prefer you don't accuse the Headmaster of theft or anything like that – I'm happy to let bygones be bygones and wouldn't want to cause any trouble for him; no need to bother him about it further. I'm sure Gringotts will keep him updated as required." There, courtesy with an implicit threat, and a request for silence. Pansy would be proud. He had no idea how much the goblins updated people on account changes – he was kind of hoping Dumbledore had heard nothing. It probably depended on how well you negotiated or how much you paid them.

"Ah, yes. Well, I'm sure he'd appreciate your forbearance – these misunderstandings can be blown out of proportion at times, can't they?" she said with a worried frown. "I could arrange a meeting with him for you if you did want to discuss matters peaceably?"

"No thank you, Professor. I'd rather just keep it quiet and let the matter drop."

"Very well then."

Professor McGonagall spent a little time after that explaining the Hogwarts fee system. There was a two tier system of fees, with the much lower fee rate available upon application on grounds such as financial hardship, and was almost always granted to larger families with three or more children anticipated to attend Hogwarts within a consecutive twenty year period.

"That's quite a large time span, isn't it?"

"Not really. Not for wizards and witches – remember our lifespans are typically longer than those of Muggles, Mr. Potter." He had read of witches and wizards with startlingly long ages – it was an odd thought that made him wonder about the nature of magic and how it affected the body, and whether magic users were really a different race or not.

She passed across some paperwork to him, marking him down for the higher fee rate. He would have to double check his Gringotts statement, but he thought it was still lower than what he'd paid last year.

"Are there any other fees or payments that Hogwarts might claim from my account, Professor?"

"None that are mandatory. You certainly have the option to donate additional funds on a yearly basis, to be used for the improvement of the school as overseen by the Hogwarts Board of Directors and the Headmaster. Many families choose to make an extra donation, but not all; it is entirely at your discretion, as you'll see near the bottom of the form."

Harry filled it out, for the higher rate of fees, but without any additional donations. Perhaps his parents had authorised them, or perhaps Dumbledore's sticky fingers were to blame. In either case with the technically authorised but morally intolerable access to his account (not to mention "gifting" him with his own father's cloak) he was in no mood to grant Hogwarts an extra share of his money.

He thought he caught a look of disappointment on Professor McGonagall's face as she took and read over the form, but she didn't say anything. Which was probably for the best because it was so tempting to yell at her. But he knew from many painful experiences in the past that it was better to stay quiet. He could use someone in authority to help counter any more curve balls Dumbledore might throw his way. Best to have as many people on his side as possible, rather than needlessly make an enemy.

On September 19th, Harry conspired with Neville and Ron to surprise Hermione when she emerged from her dorm at last, wearing a casual wizarding robe for the weekend, and with a book open to read while she walked.

"Surprise!" they all yelled, and she jumped and flailed to catch her book, as she almost dropped it from the shock.

"What?!"

"Happy birthday, Hermione!" they said in a mismatched chorus. Her toothy grin widened as she spotted a little pile of presents next to the pie set up on a side table with a little white candle stuck in the middle of it. Harry had smuggled a whole pie off the dining table the night before, to save for the celebration, and cast a Shrinking Charm on a regular candle so it didn't look too enormous. He really hoped the spell wouldn't wear off too early.

Harry started singing "Happy Birthday To You" to her, but the others didn't join in. A few other Gryffindors hanging around the common room did though, and everyone joined in clapping for her.

"Sorry, I don't know the song," apologised Neville. "But I do wish you a happy thirteenth birthday!"

"Thanks Neville," she beamed, giving him a hug that he awkwardly returned.

Hermione opened her gifts, including the book on calligraphy with a quill from Harry, and they all munched on the cold apple pie.

"So no 'Happy Birthday' song at pure-blood parties, then?" she asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "All I know is they like presents."

"We don't sing," said Ron, "but there's always presents. And usually a cake."

"My Gran says honey cake is the only cake you should have on your birthday," said Neville. "It's traditional. Apple and fruit desserts are good too; apple pie was the closest we could manage at school, sorry. And you are especially lucky on your birthday because the stars are the same as when you were born."

"If you don't make a wish on the candles because you blow them out badly, you have to wish on the first star you see at night or you'll have a year of bad luck," said Ron. "Did you make a wish?"

"I thought you didn't do pure-blood traditions much, Ron?" asked Hermione.

"That's not tradition… that's just… birthday wishes," Ron said vaguely.

"It's because your natal stars are influencing your magic," said Neville. "Wishes are more powerful on your birthday; your magic acts up for weal or woe." Hermione looked fascinated.

"Maybe some pure-blood traditions are interesting?" Harry said with a teasing look.

"Maybe a few," conceded Hermione with a smile. "I do read up on wizarding culture now, you know. Here and there."

She nattered happily about equal representation of witches in government for centuries, the respectful attitude many had to environmental preservation of habitats for wildlife, and the apparent dislike of modern technology as stemming from problems with iron interfering with magical spells.

"Really?" said Harry. "I've read about not using iron or steel for potions equipment, but the book never explained why."

"Probably common knowledge that they think everyone should know. I only stumbled across it in passing in a Muggle Studies textbook. I'm thinking of taking it next year."

"I knew about not using iron in the garden," volunteered Neville quietly. "I don't know about magic in general, but everyone knows it's very bad for magical plants."

"Mum makes Dad keep all his Muggle stuff out in the shed away from the house," said Ron with a shrug. "But it's not like they ever talked about why. It's just what they do. And why in Merlin's name would you take Muggle Studies, Hermione? You live with Muggles!"

"I thought it might be interesting to see things from the wizarding perspective. There's plenty of time to research and think it over still."

October's damp chill saw a lot of students suffering colds, and after witnessing Ginny Weasley's spectacularly swift recovery following Percy worriedly nagging her into taking a Pepperup Potion (with steam coming from her ears – how did that even work?!), Harry stopped by the Infirmary to chat with Madam Pomfrey. He was very curious about how the potion worked, and the book Neville had given him last Christmas on medical potions didn't usually go into a lot of detail about exactly how they worked, though it had an interesting list of biographical and historical notes on the creators of various potions, and a few recipes. And Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions didn't deal with such mundane diseases as colds and flus.

She didn't seem especially knowledgeable about how the potion worked, though. And her understanding of medicine and basic biology was, frankly, appalling.

"Colds are a result of dyscrasia, an imbalance of the humours. Usually there is an overabundance of the Phlegmatic humour, associated with the element of Water. The Pepperup Potion heats the blood and the body's air, stimulating and restoring the levels of Sanguine humour in the body, associated with the element of the cleansing Air, to restore the spirits and bring energy to the patient." Madam Pomfrey smiled. It was a rare treat to have a student interested in exactly how her treatments worked, and when it was, it was usually a senior Ravenclaw with thought of apprenticing in medicine on their mind.

Harry's jaw dropped. "What? I don't understand…"

"Don't feel embarrassed, Mr. Potter. It's advanced medical theory, it's usually a bit much for anyone not apprenticing as a mediwitch or Healer."

"No, I mean, what about germs? I wanted to know how the potion affected the immune system in terms of future susceptibility to viruses, and how you could have steam coming out of your ears without injury! Why are you talking about 'humours'?"

"Germs? Is that a Muggle word?"

"Germs are... like tiny little creatures too small to see! They cause disease!"

Madam Pomfrey smiled condescendingly. "Ah, I see. Well I understand Muggle medicine isn't quite as advanced as wizarding medicine, Mr. Potter. There are no invisible creatures or spirits that cause disease, and it's not a punishment from the gods, either. You'll find the science of medicine is a very detailed field of study, founded by the great wizard Hippocrates, and his work has been built upon greatly over the centuries, by such illustrious men as Galen and Paracelsus. The closest thing in nature to an invisible creature that causes illness is the Pogrebin, which is responsible for a great number of cases of sudden depression. I should warn you that the Wrackspurt theory of invisible creatures causing confusion and mental problems is widely thought invalid. Illnesses are in fact usually the result of an imbalance of the humours, a curse, or a spell gone wrong. Potions overdoses and creature attacks can also be problematic, which is why it takes a great deal of training to become a mediwitch like myself, and even more to become a Healer."

"I… I'd read in passing about the theory of the four humours in some notes about the creation of medical potions, of course. But I didn't realise that philosophy was still supported over a hundred years later," Harry said, bewildered. "I thought the books were just old."

"Well, when something works, there's no need to change it, Mr. Potter! The science of medicine is a sound one, and of course it has developed over the years. Why, blood-letting is very out of fashion now, for instance. We have much more modern ways of coping with an overabundance of the Sanguine humour, now."

"Well. I can see I have a lot to learn," he said politely, squashing his emotions down lest he offend her. There was clearly no point in contradicting her, as she wouldn't regard him as an authority on the matter. "I wonder if you can tell me how it is that steam can come out of someone's ears with no ill effects?"

"Magic, of course."

"Of course."

"You must understand that wizards and witches can cope better with injuries that would kill or cripple a Muggle, Mr. Potter. And that potions that help restore us to good health or bestow special changes on us could act as poisons to Muggles, though some Squibs can tolerate them in small dosages. Our magic means we interacts with the world in different ways to them."

"So if I gave my Muggle cousin a Pepperup potion to fight a cold?"

"The intense overstimulation of the Sanguine humour, in the absence of the tempering and guiding effect of magic, could cause severe internal or external burns, or even kill him or her. Giving potions to Muggles or Squibs is not something the untrained should experiment with."

Harry's mind reeled. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. You've certainly given me a lot to think about."

He chatted with her for a little while about other things that led people to come to her for treatment, leading up to a particular topic. He had an additional goal in mind – finding out more about Snape.

"I've noticed a lot of potions accidents – is that something you commonly treat?"

"Oh yes, particularly at the start of the year. First years are more prone to accidents, but they soon get the hang of things."

"Do people ever die from potions accidents? Or poisonings?"

"Extremely rarely, Mr. Potter. You may not enjoy Professor Snape's level of strictness, but it has certainly resulted in a lower rate of accidents than were the case under his predecessors."

"So no-one's died in his class? From an accident?"

"No, Mr. Potter. Some serious injuries certainly, but nothing that couldn't be cured."

"What is the usual cause of deaths, here?"

"I cannot say – there haven't been any student deaths here in the past decade under my watch, I'm proud to say. Quidditch has its attendant dangers, of course. I would say the most recent student fatalities were the result of duels and other attacks during the war, Mr. Potter, which ended thanks to you."

Harry did a polite bow of acknowledgement of praise. Madam Pomfrey looked a little startled, then smiled and bobbed a small curtsey. She laughed, then. "I haven't curtseyed to a student in years, Mr. Potter! Don't go expecting it again, mind you. But we do indeed owe you and your parents a great debt."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. And the students are in your debt for your prodigiously good care of them." She looked pleased.

"Well, I must get back to work now. I recommended you read up on the Hippocratic theory of the Four Humours, if you are interested in making a start in learning more about modern medicine."

"Thank you kindly for the thought, Madam Pomfrey," Harry smiled brightly. Unbelievable.

Harry didn't like practicing his more advanced spells out where anyone could see him. He'd learnt well over the years that life was easier if people underestimated you, and that no-one liked to see him doing well. Though Professor Flitwick was rapidly becoming an exception to that rule. He didn't seem to be especially singling out Harry though, which was reassuring. He encouraged any student whom he judged talented or hard working, though it came at the cost of politely neglecting those without ability or drive. If Professor Flitwick passed by your bench with a cursory "very well done" about your flickering Light Charm instead of lingering to say "try and produce a more focused beam this time", you knew you were doing badly. Only the unobservant were satisfied with his hollow praise – a few (including Harry, but not yet Hermione) had learned to work for his criticisms. He was finding it an increasingly inspiring and fun class.

So Harry's locale of choice for solo spellcasting practice was one of the empty classrooms on the fourth floor, which was quite a deserted level with few visitors. It looked like this once might have been some kind of home economics classroom once upon a time – there were several miniature kitchens with sinks and benches, and miniature fireplaces where you could hang a cauldron. Today Harry was working on the Mending Charm from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three, which seemed incredibly useful – he'd repaired a lot tiny holes and small rips in his Muggle clothes. He was also alternating between casting the Freezing Spell from that book, and the Fire Charm from the Grade Two book.

First Harry filled a sink with water and emptied it laboriously into a big puddle on the stone floor, then cast Glacius to freeze it into blocks of ice, then his best focused or diffused Incendio to make it melt, or shatter in a spray of ice shards or steam (he was experimenting). Flying shards of ice also gave him something motivating to cast his flickering Shield Charm to protect himself from. Any damage he caused to the classroom he did his best to fix with the Mending Charm.

He would like to practice some Defence spells, but those mentioned in Lockhart's books were either light on practical spellcasting details, or regarded as suitable for only the most skilled wizards and witches.

He was having a grand time alternating his freezing and flaming blasts, feeling very much like an unstoppable wizard from a fantasy movie, when of course someone decided he was having too much fun and it must be stopped.

Argus Filch, the caretaker, opened the door and burst into the room. "Ah ha! I knew it!" he croaked. A thick tartan scarf was wrapped around his neck, and his nose looked unusually purple – he obviously was suffering from a bad cold, and in a correspondingly bad mood. "Mrs. Norris and I thought we heard a troublemaker round these parts! You're caught now, boy!"

He looked around at the mess – water everywhere, and a few scorch marks and a broken chair – Harry hadn't reached the cleaning up point in his cyclic routine.

"I can fix this, sir," he explained with a polite smile. "I've been practising some charms, you see…"

"I don't want to hear it!" shouted Filch, then sneezed. "Filth! Mess everywhere!" he pointed angrily at the puddles, his jowls aquiver and his eyes bulging alarmingly. "You'll come with me!"

Harry grabbed his bag and followed him meekly down the corridor with a sigh. Until he became very alarmed upon hearing the man's mutters about stringing him up by his feet from manacles, and making an example of him.

"No, I don't think so," he said, stopping dead in his tracks.

"What was that?!"

"I said no, you won't be hanging me up from my ankles, or whipping me, or any of the other tortures you've been muttering about!" replied Harry, his voice rising anxiously.

"You'll do as you're told! You were using magic outside classes! It's prohibited! As is befouling the castle and damaging property! I'm within my rights!"

"Technically, it's only prohibited in the corridors, and I was within a classroom. So no, I won't go meekly with you, so what are you going to do about it?" said Harry drawing his wand and taking a step away from the man. "Draw your wand and make me, if you think you can. If you don't fear being reported for your behaviour. And if you even have a wand, which I doubt."

Filch blanched. "I have a wand, of course I have a wand, why would you think I don't?"

"You're a Squib. And you know, if you weren't, you would've been cured of your cold by now."

"Very well… go… and don't breathe a word… not that... for I have a wand of course... and magic within a classroom of course that's different, you just must clean up afterwards…" the panicked man stuttered. "No need to mention this to anyone, Mr. Potter?"

"Of course not, sir," said Harry smoothly, willing to be polite now he wasn't in immediate danger of torture. "No need for either of us to mention anything to anyone, right?"

"Yes, right. On your way then."

Harry put his wand away in his robe pocket only after Filch was out of sight. He'd need to find a new classroom for his practice sessions. Threats of torture – it wasn't as bad as last year's multiple brushes with death, but it wasn't giving Hogwarts a 5 star rating in his mind. Well, the year was young, and there was plenty of time yet for teachers and beasts to try and kill him.


A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers, including to "Guest" – thanks for your review, I appreciated it! :) I'd like to clarify Harry's level of "smartness" for you. You wrote: "Though your smart Harry who tries to be average, seems more average Harry just trying to be average. No offence but he does not seem smart, someone who has talent for magic and is prodigious at it or something."

Tags such as the Smart!Harry tag describe a notable difference from canon – this Harry is smarter than usually portrayed in canon (though who knows what he could have accomplished if he'd tried more), he's more interested in academics and studying, able to achieve top marks in most/all subjects if he wanted to, and somewhat more magically proficient. You'll notice him doing spells at or above his school level with ease, if you keep an eye out – though I must admit I'm not always flagging obviously for people that he's casting a year (or more) above his year level, or with unusual proficiency (that detail is in the background research as I'm writing).

For example, in Chapter 5 Harry cast the Freezing Charm (Immobulus) without any problems at all, despite it being a second year spell (from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2), and having not being taught it yet (as they're only in the first week of classes). He also waited until he'd seen Hermione use it before casting it himself, and didn't cast any of the "dozen" other spells he said he'd thought of that could work on pixies. He hates standing out; it's never brought him anything but pain and suffering. "The nail that sticks out gets hammered down." Being as good at DADA at Hermione (O level) is quite enough – being noticeably better might be dangerous. In canon, Harry tried to grab the pixies with his hands, obviously not knowing the spell Hermione had used (or indeed any other useful spell), and Neville fell off the candelabra without anyone helping him down.

My Harry is smart, cunning, and a budding manipulator (the Dursleys didn't require a lot of subtlety) but he's not a genius, nor an unbelievably accomplished magical prodigy who can challenge Dumbledore to a duel at 12 years old. He's just smart, and very, very determined with his studies, as opposed to succumbing to Ron's lazy example like in canon. He is still a child, however, and will still have his moments of social and emotional stupidity and gullibility, will get other things wrong here and there, and won't be an expert at something unless he works at it. He's no Genius!Harry, Powerful!Harry, or Super!Harry – those can be fun fics at times, and I know Smart!Harry is a tag sometimes used for those style of fics too, but this is a more realistic take on the trope.

And I'm sorry everyone, but please don't hold your breath waiting for pairings – there won't be anything except unrequited crushes, or at most, a bit of hand holding and shy looks. I'm writing for adults and teens primarily, but also I'm always keeping my young daughter and other assorted pre-teen readers in mind (I know there's at least a couple following this series). So this fic series is going to stay so clean it squeaks, except for a level of violence/scary themes roughly matching canon. My other works may have pairings/romantic content, but not this series.

"Love the story where the believers on both sides are not wrong but just diff beliefs and cultural thing. Kudos for that."

Thank you! That's exactly the feel I was (and am) aiming for. :)

One last thing, patient readers! I have started a Community on fanfiction dot net, called "Harry Potter for Kids". community/Harry-Potter-for-Kids/123856/ Description: "This is a place to find Harry Potter fics suitable for pre-teen children to read. It may also suit adults & teens looking for engaging fics to read that have a de-emphasis on romance, horror, and violence.

Fics for this community must have no romance except as non-explicit background detail, minimal to no swearing, no adult themes (e.g. drug use), and low levels of violence/horror themes (not exceeding the level found in the canonical HP books). They also must be well written and engaging. Recs welcome."

If you would like to recommend a fic from that website for inclusion (including your own, if applicable), please PM me. Fics will only be added slowly as I have a chance to read through them. Please do not be offended though if I don't include a fic you suggest; I'm going to be extra picky as this is a community I'm making up so I can hand-select fics for my daughter to read that I feel may interest and suit her. I thought others might appreciate it too though, so feel free to subscribe if you're interested.