This document beta'd by the generous LadyDisdain2014

Chapter 9: The Language of Flowers

The next day, rumors and whispers seemed to follow Harry almost from the moment he woke up.

"Raised by muggles-"

"-the scar, is it from-"

"-turned his back on the wizarding world-"

"-thinks he's better than us-"

Peeves the Poltergeist, who had rudely introduced himself to Harry by throwing water balloons at the back of his head, floated behind him singing, "Potter he's notter, a wizards just a lizard, if a muggle name he has, but Harry's not scary he's just a little mad," and other nonsense, most of it quite rude. Percy managed to get Peeves to leave Harry alone for a while by threatening him with Bloody Baron, but that didn't last long. As soon as the older boy left for his classes, Peeves started in on Harry again, at least until he reached his first class, which was transfiguration.

It was taught by the Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor house teacher, who took roll and lingered over Harry's name, giving a heavy sigh as she read "McAllister." Once the lesson started though, she demonstrated her transformation into a cat. All of the first years applauded and cheered, even the slightly miffed Harry. Once she had their attention though, McGonagall was stern.

"Transfiguration is one of the most potent and dangerous magics you can learn. If you are caught disregarding your instructions, you will leave and not return. Now, we shall begin with Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration."

"She's an animagus, and they're really rare," Hermione explained to Harry and Ron after class.

"That would be so cool to be able to turn into and animal," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "What animal do you reckon you'd turn into?"

Harry grinned. "Oh, probably a snake. They're my favorite animal after all."

Ron made a face. "But that's a Slytherin animal! What you want to do that for?"

"Oh, yeah. Maybe a dinosaur of some sort then, like a T-Rex," Harry mused.

He was interrupted by a hideous voice crooning, "Oh, Potter he's notter but he's really a rotter, a muggle lover and a bit of a bother-"

"Oh bloody hell," Ron grumbled. "Will he be at this all day?"

Peeves soon lost interest though as the Gryffindor first years made their way outside to Herbology. Professor Sprout was a large woman who radiated a sense of more love and care, and reminded Harry of his Year One teacher who had been his favorite for many years. Unlike his Year One teacher she called him Potter at first. Still, when she she showed them around the greenhouse as an introduction, Harry was fascinated by all the magical plants. Neville managed to earn several points for the house cup from Professor Sprout, as he was able to identify several rare magical plants and explain their uses. His outshining Hermione in the knowledge department in regards to plants was a source of some consternation to her.

"Oh relax Hermione, you'll have a chance to show off later," Harry assured her.

Ron made a face. "Oh, I dunno. We've got Potions next, with Snape. Fred and George said he really hates Gryffindor, and even Percy had a hard time finding good things to say about him."

"He can't be that bad," Hermione insisted, though Harry and Ron were both quite certain that she'd never said a bad thing about a teacher her entire life.

Potions was down in the dungeons, and as they made their way there Harry saw the Slytherin first years. Draco was with his two half-troll minions, and leered at Harry as they approached. Harry rolled his eyes and tried to ignore Draco, but he had a hard time forgetting the insults he'd given Harry's family.

Snape started class by taking role. He paused when he got to Harry's name, saying, "Harry…" slowly and deliberately. Harry glared at the man, daring him to skip the McAllister and call him Potter, but Snape finished with a rather deliberate "...McAllister."

Harry relaxed slightly at that, giving Snape a grateful smile. In return, he got a scowl seemed designed to prevent any future displays of happiness in the class. Harry shrugged, but couldn't help a small satisfied smile. One victory for the day at least.

"Potions is not like your other classes," Snape began, glaring around the room. "The art of potion making contains no loud bangs or flashy lights, which might lead some of you to believe it is safer and easier than other magical arts."

He suddenly spun, making his robes swirl in a dramatic flair. "It is not! I don't expect you to understand the subtle beauty of a softly simmering cauldron or to understand the power of magical liquids seeping into the human mind and body, bending reality to your will. I can teach you to capture fire in liquid form, to expend your senses to heights you cannot comprehend, to distill the essence of joy and hope, or to brew despair and fear in the blood of your foes. That is, if you're not as mentally deficient as the usual lot of students I receive in my first year classes."

"McAllister!" Snape snapped, causing Harry to jerk upright.

He smiled at Snape to show he appreciated the gesture. "Yes sir?"

"What would be the reason for gathering acacia blossoms on Midsummer's Day?"

Harry frowned and thought for a moment. "Um, I don't know sir."

Hermione's hand shot into the air, but Snape ignored her. "It is used to make a Potion of Saint Clair's Purification, McAllister. What of Calla lilies, where would I find their native habitat?"

"Er, maybe Hawaii sir? I think I saw some there on holiday."

Once again, Hermione raised her hand, but Snape ignored her. "They are native to South Africa, Mr. McAllister, not Hawaii. What would you add to a potion of Eternal Beauty after it had brewed for three days to complete it?"

This time, both Lavender Brown and Hermione raised their hands, but Harry was stumped.

"I don't know sir."

"Idiot! Narcissus flowers are known for their properties in cosmetic potions. What is the common name for Cupressus sempervirens?"

This time it was Neville who had his hand raised, but Harry thought furiously. This one he should know, he'd taken Latin in school after all!

"Um, that's cypress, isn't it sir?"

Neville and Hermione beamed at Harry for getting the question right, but Snape just stared into Harry's eyes again. "Yes...perhaps you are not us foolish as you would have us believe." Snape seemed to peer into Harry's soul, so deep was his gaze. It was starting to make Harry uncomfortable, when Snape's eyes snapped away and he glared at the rest of the class. "Well, why are you not writing this down?"

Snape walked next to Harry's desk and rapped it once with his knuckles. "Not completely useless. One point...to Gryffindor. " He broke off and went to berate Neville, who had somehow managed to leak ink all over his school bag before he'd even opened it.

"What was that all about?" Harry whispered to Ron as they took down the notes.

"I dunno. I thought for sure he was going to take away a load of points, Fred and George says he hates Gryffindor! But he actually gave you one! What's up with that I wonder?"

Harry just shrugged, and continued taking notes. As it was, it turned out that the one point Harry earned for Gryffindor was soon erased as Snape found ways to harangue all the Gryffindor students. Hermione got two points taken away for trying to help Neville, and Neville lost five points for managing to stain one of the desks with ink. Harry even lost the point he had earned when Snape found dust in his cauldron during inspection. By contrast, Draco Malfoy earned ten points for having a spotless cauldron, and even Crabbe and Goyle earned a point each for "preparedness."

"It's like Snape thought he had to punish us for giving me that one bloody point," Harry grumbled as they made their way out of the dungeons.

"Snape actually gave you a point, Harry?" Percy asked, coming up behind them. When Harry nodded, Percy beamed at him. "Well, you must have done a really good job then. I don't recall the last time Snape has ever given any Gryffindor's a point, even I have a hard time not losing points in his class, despite the fact that I try to ensure that my fellow fifth years treat him with the respect his position deserves."

"I don't think he deserves any bloody respect," Ron grumbled.

Percy put his hand on Ron's shoulder to stop him. Ron spun, angry, but Percy just shook his head. "Ron, I didn't say whether or not Snape deserves respect, I said his position deserves respect. He is still a Hogwart's professor, and he's actually very good at his job. Students who pass Potions OWLS and NEWTS here are highly sought after the world over for their skills, because everyone knows that Snape is one of the best potions master's around. So whether you like him or not, still treat him with respect because he has a powerful influence on your future."

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but then frowned. "Well I still think he's a git," he grumbled.

"Ron! Don't say that about a teacher!" Hermione scolded. "Treat him with respect, like your brother said."

Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged. "Hey, at least he didn't look at me all mournful like because I've decided I love my parents, even if they don't have magic, or mock me because I decided I like a muggle name better than a wizard one."

"Peeves still giving you a hard time then, Harry?" Percy asked, as they started walking towards the Great Hall for dinner.

"Not just him, McGonagall sighed when she read McAllister, and Sprout called me Potter and I had to correct her. I do like Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, but it seems like everyone is set on me being Harry Potter, even if I've never been called that as long as I can remember."

"I've had people act all shocked because I'm muggle born and know so much," Hermione put in. "They act like I spent the first part of my life without a brain! Honestly, it's not like I didn't got to school and get good marks before."

"Yeah, but that was just muggle school. It's not like it really matters. I never went to muggle school, my parents didn't see the need to bother. Mum taught me, Ginny and my brothers to read and stuff," Ron said with a dismissive air.

"But what about history, science, maths, grammar, physical education, arts!" Hermione demanded, glaring at Ron.

Percy raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "It's not like any of that stuff really matters once you became a witch. Who really cares about muggle stuff, when magic is just so much better at everything?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth in exasperation. "But you can learn so much from history! And without science, how would we have trains and photographs, and so many other important things!"

"Magic can't be better at everything," Harry argued. "I'm sure there's stuff that has been done without magic that's just as good or better than what wizards do."

Percy shook his head. "All the best things are created by wizards first Harry, and there's nothing muggles have managed that wizards haven't done better before them."

"So when did wizards go to the moon?" Hermione demanded.

Percy and Ron stopped dead in their tracks. "Do what?" Ron asked.

"Go to the moon," Hermione repeated. "The Americans did it ages ago, six times in fact. And the Russians put probes on Venus, and the Americans have been to Mars with robots, and there have been loads of space probes to Jupiter and Saturn."

"Don't be silly, Hermione, you can't take a portkey or apparate to get to the moon, and brooms can't fly that high," Percy declared imperiously. "It's been proven that their is no way of getting off of the planet. And to go beyond that, well, that's just silly."

"But they did go," Harry said. "I have a book at home with pictures of the Apollo program. And we learned about Prospero in school, it's the satellite that was built and launched using only British resources, though we had to do it from Australia. Oh, and I suppose our ICBM's can go into space, though if they launch that's pretty bad."

Ron and Percy still looked incredulous. "But you can't get to the moon, the magical currents won't allow it or something," Ron said slowly.

"But they didn't use magic, Ron," Hermione half shouted. "The rockets they used to get to the moon had no magic at all, they used hydrogen burners to achieve lift and maneuver."

"What's this, a mad mudblood fantasy?" a new voice drawled. "Everyone knows that muggle claims about going to the moon are a load of nonsense. It's impossible, the Sir Serpens Malfoy proved that a long time ago in his treatise on ley lines beyond the Earth."

Percy's face darkened and he turned slowly to face Draco Malfoy. "What was that, Draco? I think perhaps the two of us need to have a conversation with Professor Snape about your choice of language."

Draco sneered. "I said a mad muggleborn fantasy, Weasley. Clean out your ears. I thought prefects were supposed to be bright."

"My hearing is fine, Draco. And I have three witnesses. Ah, there's Professor Snape now. Come along Draco. Professor Snape! A word, please." And Percy marched off, dragging a suddenly recalcitrant Draco with him.

Harry and Ron grinned at seeing Draco get a tongue lashing from Percy, but when they looked at Hermione she just looked disturbed. "Do wizards really believe that going to the moon is impossible?" She asked quietly.

Ron looked from her to Harry. "Well, yeah. You can't do it," he said, then hastily added "magically, anyway. I dunno, you two seem awful convinced."

Hermione and Harry looked at one another for a moment, then Harry shrugged. "I'll have my dad send over my book on the Apollo missions, it's got pictures and stuff in it, stuff you couldn't fake. Ron can read that. Oh, and I bet we could find other kids, like Dean, to confirm it."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "I'll have my parents send over my Illustrated Guide to the Solar System from Dorling Kindersley they got for me when I went to astronomy camp last year. It has a whole page about the Voyager probes. You'll have to believe that, Ron."

Ron agreed, happy to move onto another subject, like what was for dinner that night.

That night, Harry lay in bed, composing a letter to his parents. He was getting frustrated with the quill and inks, but persevered on in composing his letter.

Dear Mum, Dad, and Becky

Hullo, i am havin a good time hear at Hogwarts. I have made friends with a girl in my year named Hermione Granger. Her parents dont have no magick ayther. Theyre dentists. I've added there phone number. I think hermione will be very happy to help us someday she is very smart. Will you please send me my book on the moon landings? Ron dont believe that people have been to the moon. Oh, also I am in Gryffindor with Ron and his brothers and also Hermione. It is very nice. Love you lots,

Harry McAllister

PS

Please send some notebooks and clicky pins. Parchmant and feathers are rubbish. I have to use them in class but I dont want to right to you with them they stink

He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, having retrieved her from the Owlery earlier in the evening. He walked to his dormitory window and let her loose, watching her fly off into the night, her white body seeming to glow in the reflected light of the castle. As he did so, he felt a slight pang of longing that he couldn't go with her. He'd been away from home before of course, but it seemed an awfully long time until the winter holidays, and he was already missing his family, if only a little for now

He turned back, walking past Neville's bed. The other boy was frantically searching through his trunk for something that he'd already managed to lose.

"What're you after now, Neville?" Harry asked, stopping to gaze down at the other boy.

Neville jerked upright, banging his head against his trunk lid. "Oh, nothing Harry. Just...well, I can't find any more ink bottles. I've spilled all of mine already, and my gran will be furious. I'm always losing things, you know. She gets kind of upset with me, and I don't have to write for more already, and I needed to write her since she wants me to send her letters all the time and I have to tell her I'm in Gryffindor like…" Neville's voice suddenly thickened and he half choked out, "like um, like my parents."

"You live with your grandmother?" Harry asked, surprised. "Did your birth parents die too?"

Neville looked around surreptitiously, then sighed. "No, not like yours, Harry, though Gran says they were friends with your um, your birth parents. They...they're still alive...but…" For a moment, Harry thought Neville wouldn't say anything more, but then Neville said all in a rush, "but they were tortured by Death Eaters when you killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named because they were looking for him. They're...they're in Saint Mungo's now. I see them, sometimes, but...but they're not well."

"Oh." Harry was silent for a moment, then trotted back to his own bed, and grabbed the mostly full bottle of ink he'd been using, and brought it back to Neville. "Here."

Neville took the bottle of ink, looking slightly perplexed. "What's this for, then."

"For you. I wrote to my parents, they'll send me some pens and paper. They're much better for writing then parchment, and I've got a few bottles of ink left and I won't need as many since I won't use them to write home now. I...I understand about your parents. I haven't told anyone else, but it really hurts me when people talk like my family isn't really mine, like they don't love me or something. I...I guess I do love my birth parents, the Potters, but it's hard. I don't think of them when I think of my mum and dad, and I think of Becky when I think of family too. And Grandpa Charles and Grandma Melba and Uncle Jordan and Aunt Jesibel, and my cousins Jessie and James and Jenny and Julie and Jamie-"

"That's a lot of names that start with J," Neville interrupted, then flushed. "Sorry."

Harry chuckled. "No, it's OK, my dad says the same thing. Says his sister's mental for naming her kids like that, but whatever. The point is, I understand how you can love someone and still kind of resent them, and feel bad about it. So, sorry. It's OK. We can still be mates, as long as you don't hate me."

"Hate you for what?" Neville asked, now looking even more confused than usual. "You gave me the ink, that was really kind of you."

Harry looked down at his feet and scuffed the thick carpet. "For well, for getting your parents tortured, like you-"

The next thing Harry knew, he was flat on his back with a bleeding nose. He stared up at Neville, dazed, who was breathing hard, while tears leaked down his face. He was flushed, and looked as if he couldn't decide if he was furious or despairing. "DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT!" Neville shouted, louder than Harry had thought the quiet boy was capable of. "Don't you dare say that," Neville sobbed, scrubbing at his face with one hand while shaking out the bruised hand he'd just used to break Harry's nose. "My parents...what happened to them was the fault of Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rastaban Lestrange, and Barty Crouch Jr., and… and VOLDEMORT'S!"

Neville took a deep breath, then held out a hand to the still dazed Harry and helped him up. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, Harry, sorry. I...I don't know, I mean, I didn't-"

"No, ibs ohgay," Harry said, pinching his nose shut. "I bus being a bit. 'Ummon, bets bind Perbys, he can bix by nose."

They walked down to the common room, where Percy gave them both a chewing out, and fixed Harry's nose with a wave of his wand. "Merlin's beard, what were you two doing, getting into a fight in the dorms!" Percy demanded. "Neville! I never would have thought you would do such a thing. I'm telling Professor McGonagall that-"

"Don't," Harry said hastily, wiping the excess blood on the hankie Percy had handed him. "Please, don't Percy. I kind of deserved it. It's alright, Neville and I have already made up. See? We're mates." Harry demonstrated this by putting his arm over the shocked Neville's shoulders.

Neville suddenly straightened though, and nodded fiercely. "Yeah. Mates."

Studying the two of them carefully, Percy came to the conclusion that any boy with more brothers than he really wanted but just as many as he truly needed would; they're nothing like a few blows to make everything right between two blokes, and have them be good mates again. Something he really wished his mother understood better, because there were times he was utterly certain that if she'd just let him smack Fred and George around a bit, they're probably get along better in the end. "Alright. But if you must do any more fighting, for heaven's sake, don't go bleeding all over the place again. And don't hex each other, neither of you know enough about magic to go around doing that just yet."

Harry and Neville walked back up the staircase together, a quiet companionship between them. Neither felt the need for words, and both boys felt as if they really understood each other, in a way that only two boys who have both lost something and fought each other really can. When Ron came up to the dorms later to ask what they'd had a row about, Harry and Neville just exchanged grins. "What about a game of cards, Ron? I can teach you and Neville how to play Egyptian Rat Screw. Bring Scabbers over, maybe he'll like it."

Slightly disappointed that he didn't get any details on the fight, but excited at the prospect of learning a game with such an absurd name, Ron hastily agreed, and soon all three boys had sore hands from slapping the card piles, laughing and talking until bed time.

As they did, Harry couldn't help but feel that maybe he'd found another hero, even if Neville was rather an unlikely looking one.