He entered the dungeons with quite a bit of trepidation, feeling sure that Snape would still despise him as always. He and Ron took seats next to Neville, who oddly enough seemed cool and collected. The Neville Harry had always known got ripped apart in Potions class and tore himself apart before the lessons even began for fear of what Snape would do next.

Snape was more or less the same: same cruel manner and taunts, same impossible expectations, and same snide remarks about everything, including but not limited to Lavender's stupid hairstyle and Dean's very near tardiness. He clearly hadn't stopped playing favorites either, for when everyone got up to go to the storage cabinet for supplies, Crabbe shoved Parvati and she hit the floor and Snape took ten points from Gryffindor for her rough housing.

Harry couldn't help but notice how much the dynamic of the class had changed without the goading and guidance of Draco Malfoy. The atmosphere was tense enough, but it was not unbearable. Hermione's urgent desire to show and tell everyone all she knew was also absent; Harry had noticed she spent more time studying than she had before (if that was actually possible) and less time being a know-it-all. He was just beginning to wonder if a person's head could explode from knowing too much about halfway through the class when Snape stopped at Harry's far too thick mixture of Confidence Concoction.

Nice work, Potter," he sneered. "Do try in the future not to waste my time or supplies brewing your usual garbage."

Snape was still Snape. At least that would probably always be constant.

The rest of the class passed by with Ron making rather lewd faces and gestures about Snape behind his back and even Harry couldn't help sniggering at them. Messing with Hermione and other defenseless people was one thing, but at least they could both agree that Snape was a fair target.

They had Charms class next. When he thought about it, he hadn't seen Professor Flitwick at the staff table and when they walked in Professor McGonagall was rustling papers around on the desk and looking rather harassed.

"I wonder where Flitwick is," Harry wondered aloud.

"Who?" Ron said very loudly and blatantly.

"Mr. Weasley. This might not be my class but I am teaching it for the moment, so could you please stifle your need to talk?!"

Ron quieted. Silently Harry felt a bit proud of the shrewd old woman for getting Ron to shut his trap.

"As I was telling Mr. Weasley, Professor Weasley cannot be here for the rest of this week, but he shall return very soon. Until then, I am teaching this class and I expect the same respect from each of you in Charms as I would in Transfiguration."

Her gift for murdering noise, chatter, and discussion in a class was awesome. Professor Weasley? Which one? There were so many really. Thankfully Ron answered his question before he had to ask it.

"Percy is and always has been a prat; I'm not taking orders from him anymore this year than I did since the last one. Can you believe the number of times he put us in detention last year? I'm his brother!"

Harry frowned a bit but the thought of Percy as a teacher did make a bit of sense, even though he had always thought Percy more far-reaching and goal-oriented than to ever become a Hogwarts professor. The rest of the class was devoted to taking notes from McGonagall's lecturing and even Ron the Rebel lowered himself to taking notes, though he did shoot venomous looks at her every once in a while.

The rest of the day passed by slowly. It was as though time were dragging Harry's face through his new reality to make sure that it scraped up every inch of him and left him a person he no longer could recognize. That night he lay awake in bed feeling helpless to control his own happiness. Life had become a real kick in the stomach.

Things had been so perfect over the summer, but now at school and away from his parents and godfather he was left with a tyrant for a best friend and a trashy and attention-loving second-in-command for a girlfriend and Snape as usual. At least destiny could have granted him a sweet and caring potions teacher, but no. It was the typical, derisive, scorning Snape.

Well, at least Malfoy was human. The thought of that made him laugh, and his laugh in the silent dorm room to the symphonies of sleeping boys only intensified his new existence. Sleep was a very long time in coming that night.

The next morning he went downstairs and into the Great Hall extremely tired and beaten by his own thoughts. As soon as he reached the table Alice spied him with and squealed like an irritating piglet as she sat down next to him and began chattering as usual. Too bad he hadn't paid attention more in Charms last year. How were Silencing Charms supposed to work again? It would be something he would definitely need to investigate.

Hermione would know how to do a Silencing Charm. He looked down the Gryffindor table at her; she was sitting with Neville again and they had a book open between them and were writing on something, probably essays or something along those lines, and she also seemed to be giving him pointers. He couldn't explain it but he felt a sting of possessiveness. She seemed so at ease with writing and studying in general and something in that made him smile. That was Hermione, scribbling away as usual on a paper that was already guaranteed perfect marks in an effort to try and make it better.

"Hello?! What is wrong with you?!" Alice looked furious.

"What?" he asked, uncertain of what he had done now.

"You might want to dam up the string of drool hanging from your face! Hermione Granger? Are you actually looking at Hermione Granger?"

There was something in her words that deeply troubled him, about the way she had said "Hermione Granger" like it was the foulest of swear words. It was like she thought she was far superior to her, better than her. And why? Harry began to feel wholly annoyed and even angry and she was still going on about it and beginning to raise her voice.

I mean honestly, look at her! She's-"

"Why don't you just lay off her!" he interrupted. "What did she ever do to you?!"

Alice looked like he had just spat in her face and began to shake with what Harry assumed must be a combination of rejection, fury, and hurt. She grabbed her glass of milk and threw it on him and stomped out of the Great Hall. It hadn't even been creative; the Weasleys as he was beginning to know them would have at least done something more drastic, like set him on fire or worse.

He wiped the milk off his robes and noticed that there were a few people staring at him and he rolled his eyes and told them to mind their own business.

"Bad luck? Well, Alice can be a bit of a hassle. You don't live with her; you're not the one who has to spend days waiting outside while she makes herself pretty for you," came the lazy voice of Ron as he approached the Gryffindor table, grabbed a piece of cantaloupe and stuffed a few bagels in his pocket.

"Time for Defense class, Harry. Chop chop. And when are we going to do something fun? This year has been so boring."

Harry suppressed an intense need to hit Ron, snatched up his things, spied a copy of the Daily Prophet laying ownerless on the table and snatched that up too, and followed Ron to Lupin's classroom. Maybe Lupin would have news about changing time, for he had said he would look into it. Things might be looking up all of a sudden.