'...' -- Harry speaking through the medallion

First Week of School and It's Crazy

As soon as the hat was removed from Harry's head, all the noise in the Great Hall came rushing at him as if someone had just lifted the Cone of Silence.

As he headed over to the Gryffindor table, he saw everyone at the table was standing and cheering as if they'd just won some sweepstakes.

Ron Weasley's older brother... Percy took hold of his hand as soon as he was close enough and shook it vigorously, while the twins yelled, "We've got Potter! We've got Potter!" as if he were some kind of prize.

As soon as he could get his hand free of Percy's, Harry headed down the table trying to find a spot that wasn't surrounded by too many people. He wound up sitting on the opposite side of the table from the ghost with the neck ruff. The ghost attempted to pat Harry on the arm but his hand went through, leaving Harry feeling like it had been plunged into the icy water of San Francisco bay. He couldn't help wondering if his parent's touch would feel the same way.

From where he was, Harry could see everyone at the head table. Dumbledore was there, looking very pleased with himself. No doubt he was thinking that he had gotten the Sorting Hat to do what he wanted. Hagrid was also there and the large man gave him a thumbs up. He was sitting next to a woman with grey flyaway hair under a patched hat who was talking to a woman dressed in a rather severe looking black outfit. He also saw Professor Snape looking like he had swallowed something sour, and sitting next to Professor Quirrell, who looked like he might faint if you said 'boo' to him. The purple turban the Defence Professor was wearing made him look a little weird.

There weren't too many left to be Sorted now. The boy, Ron Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor as he had expected to be and took the empty seat next to him. The last one sorted was Blaise Zambini who went into Slytherin.

As he looked down at the empty golden plate in front of him Harry's stomach growled wanting to know when it would be fed. He didn't have an answer for it, but hoped it would be soon. Those snacks on the train felt like they'd been eaten ages ago.

The Headmaster got to his feet looking like a benevolent grandfather. With a smile he said, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. It is a pleasure to see so many returning students as well as so many new faces. Before we start our feast, I would just like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Is he... a bit mad?" Dean Thomas asked uncertainly.

"Mad?" Percy put in. "He's a genius! Best Wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes."

Harry had his doubts about that. Living in San Francisco as he did, he had met his share of eccentric people. Some of them were truly eccentric and few who were pretending to be eccentric. A number of them had come through his Aunt's home from time to time. A few had been truly mad, but in a harmless way like Emperor Norton I who had been a well known figure in the history of San Francisco. His instincts were telling him that Dumbledore was trying to appear like an eccentric kindly grandfather, but it was just an act.

"Potatoes, Harry?" Percy asked spoon in hand.

Harry had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he had missed the arrival of the food. He nodded his thanks to Percy as he put chicken and steak on his plate along with carrots, peas and a few things he'd never seen before, just to give them a try.

By the end of the meal Harry felt thoroughly stuffed and was starting to feel a little sleepy.

Dumbledore had gotten to his feet again and started talking so Harry let his eyes roam the hall. They wandered up to the head table and most of the teachers and staff was listening attentively as the headmaster warned about a third floor corridor being off-limits. The only two who weren't were Professor's Quirrell and Snape. Quirrell seemed to be discussing something with Snape. It was when Snape's eyes met his that the odd thing happened and it was very sudden. The dark eyes met his just for a moment, but in that moment, he felt a sharp pain radiate out from the scar in his forehead.

Pressing the heel of his hand to the scar, Harry softly said, 'Ouch.'

"Something wrong, Harry?" Percy had heard that gasp of pain and taking his Prefect duties seriously felt compelled to ask in case he needed to see Madame Pomfrey.

Harry shook his head. The pain had vanished as quickly as it had come. One thing he was sure of though, Snape's eyes were full of the same dislike he had seen in the infirmary over a month ago. He couldn't help wondering if the man would curb his dislike. Grams had made it very clear that she wanted to know everything that happened no matter how minor. Harry had the feeling that if Snape didn't keep his dislike to himself, he would wind up dealing with Grams and Grams on a vendetta is something he wouldn't wish on anybody.

Harry listened as the snores of the other first year boys filled the dormitory then checked his watch again. Pushing the button to illuminate the dial he saw it was now 11:30. He'd better go down to the common room now. He wished he had a better place to do this, but he didn't know the castle well enough, yet.

He got to the entrance to the common rooms from the dorms and looked around to make sure the room was empty. Thankfully it was so he wouldn't have to use the excuse of being homesick. He certainly couldn't use one about a time difference as no one here was supposed to know he didn't live in England.

In the main area of the common room Harry stood with his back to the fireplace and closing his eyes, felt for the magic in the room, trying to find the strongest point.

It took several tries to find the magical center of the room and oddly enough it wasn't anywhere near the physical center of it. Instead it was in a shadowed alcove, containing a table and a couple of chairs.

Harry moved the table and chairs, so he would have room for the protective circle he needed to set up. Pulling the silk bag out of his bathrobe pocket, he began to lay out the contents; five stones both gem and clusters, chosen by him, a large vial of coarse, unrefined salt, one white votive candle and matches, the spell he and his aunt had come up with, a small wreath of ivy picked from the wall of the guardian's home and last but not least five small branches of birch, holly, ash, hawthorn and oak.

Picking up all the clusters except the clear quartz one, Harry again closed his eyes, then placed the clusters where it felt like they belonged. The amethyst cluster had gone behind him. The citrine cluster he put in front. A chunk of turquoise went to his right and a chunk of jet to his left. Gathering the remaining items, Harry resumed his position within the circle.

Concentrating, on creating a circle of blue-white light, Harry carefully poured the salt in an arc between each of the stones to complete the circle. Settling the ivy wreath on the stone in front of him, he positioned the branches in the shape of a pentagram on the wreath, before setting the quartz cluster in the center of it.

After lighting the votive and placing it behind the wreath and quartz cluster so the light reflected through the quartz, Harry pulled the spell out of his pocket and read it over a couple of times to make sure he had it right. Returning his glance to the quartz cluster that was now sending off some prisms of rainbow light, Harry chanted:

'Magic that dwells within these lands and walls,
Guide and keep me safe
While I reside within your grounds and halls.'

Harry felt the magic within the room flow into the circle, making the salt and stones glow. As the glow rose from the circle and flowed toward him, Harry heard a squeak.

Once glow enveloping him disappeared, Harry quickly thanked the magical forces within Hogwarts for answering his call, then softly called out, 'Who's there? Show yourself!'

A thin figure about the size of a three to five year old child stepped out of the shadows near the fireplace. Because it was standing between him and the fireplace the only things he could make out were its bat-like ears which were twitching and that the being seemed to be wringing its hands as if nervous or afraid.

Guessing that the unexpected display of magic had spooked the little creature, Harry set about trying to calm it. 'Hello. Who are you?'

"Iz Tally, master." The creature told him in a high squeaky voice.

'You don't need to call me master, Tally.' Harry told her. At least he assumed it was a her. 'You can call me, Harry. I am not your master. If I am not being too rude, Tally, what are you? I've never seen a being like you before.'

"Tally is House Elf." She announced proudly as she came up to the edge of the salt circle where the glow had been moments before.

'And just what is a House Elf?" Harry couldn't help being curious. He didn't remember seeing anything in his Book of Shadows or his Aunt's that described a creature like the one before him.

"House Elf takes care of Master's home and family using House Elf magic." She told him. "Tally belong to Hogwarts. Is good place to work. Headmaster Dumbledore current Master, though he not like being called that."

It sounded a little like slavery to Harry but he asked about it just in case. He knew from Grams that some magical creatures had to be bound to a place or another being to survive. 'Are you a slave, Tally? Or is this by your choice?'

"No, Tally House Elf." Then seeing the boy didn't understand, but wanted to she said. "Harry, sir, House Elf have to have family and place to belong. If loses place, and not able to find another, then House Elf can die."

"Harry sir, is Tally permitted to ask question?"

'Of course you can ask but whether or not I answer will depend on the question and if I have the answer.' Harry told the house elf cautiously.

"What is you doing, Harry sir?" Tally gestured at the items surrounding him on the floor.

'Tally, if I tell you will you promise to keep it secret?' Harry wanted to know. 'I promise what I did harmed no one at Hogwarts, but no one can know about it. It would put my family's lives in danger.'

Tally's eyes seemed to get even bigger if that were possible and she said, "Tally tell no one. Not even other house elves."

Listening to the internal prompting that was telling him that Tally would take any secret he told her to her grave, Harry told her, 'I cast a spell asking Hogwarts to guide and keep me safe.'

"You is a Green Wizard!" Tally softly exclaimed. "Been many many years since old magic ways practised at Hogwarts."

'And no one can know that I am!' Harry told her.

Sensing the urgency behind his plea and listening to the castle, the house elf quickly assured him. "Iz telling no one."

'Thank you, Tally,' Harry felt relieved then he decided to ask. 'Tally, do you know of a place I can go to in case I have to work more green magic? A place where no one could detect it?'

Tally was silent for several minutes, and then said, "Iz sorry but not knowing such a place. Might ask Hogwarts when need place. Castle can show you."

Harry nodded his thanks as he used his Shifting gift to put all the salt back in the vial. Once he had the rest of his spell casting items back in the silk bag, Harry headed back up to his dorm room.

"Good night, Harry sir." Tally called as she went back to work.

'Good night, Tally.'

It didn't take long for Harry to fall asleep, but his sleep was anything but restful. For some strange reason Quirrell's purple turban invaded his dreams. It kept telling him he had to request a transfer to Slytherin, because that was where his destiny lay. At first it felt kind of odd having a conversation with a turban, but given that he'd had a conversation with a witches hat earlier this evening, maybe it wasn't so strange in the wizarding world.

When he told the dream turban quite firmly that he was going to stay right where he was, it tried to smother him while Malfoy and Snape could be heard laughing in the background. He finally managed to pry the turban off only to see a flash of green light and hear a woman scream.

Waking up at that point, Harry felt grubby and shivered slightly because he was covered in sweat. Parting the curtains on his bed and putting on his glasses, he saw that the morning light was just beginning to stream in the nearest window. No one else was stirring, so Harry decided to take a shower.

When he felt ready to face the day, Harry headed back to the dorm room to grab a book to read before going down to the Great Hall. As he reached the bottom of the stairs that led to the Great Hall, Harry silently thanked Hogwarts for its aid in guiding him and felt something similar to warm hug engulf him.

The whispers started as soon as he entered the Great Hall. Because there were so few people in the hall at this hour of the morning the acoustics in the room allowed their words to be clearly heard by Harry.

"There he is."

"The dark haired boy with the glasses who just came in."

"Does he have the scar?"

It only got worse from there. Everywhere he went, there were people standing outside open classrooms, or standing on tiptoe, trying to get a look at him or more precisely -- his scar. He was beginning to wish he could separate himself from it, so they could watch it walk around and ignore him.

Harry hated it. One of the lessons he had learned from the Dursley's that had never been unlearned, was attention was a bad thing. Phoebe was the one who relished attention, though she was just as happy if he got noticed.

Ron Weasley tried to go just about everywhere with him and seemed to be enjoying Harry's notoriety. All the attention was beginning to help Harry understand how Princess Diana must feel about people poking their noses into her private life and watching her everywhere she went. He remembered a conversation that Phoebe and Piper had been having about her just before he left. They had been talking about how she had given an interview where she lamented the fact that her private life was no longer that and that how things she did were either blown out of proportion or sometimes misunderstood.

One such event for him had been when he and some of the other first years had gotten lost near the out of bounds third floor corridor. Peeves had found them and was preparing to play a nasty prank on them when he caught sight of Harry near the front of the group. The poltergeist had taken off with a shriek of "not him!"

All the first years had been warned by Percy, that the Bloody Baron the Slytherin house ghost was the only one Peeves was afraid of and therefore the only one who could control him. The first years hadn't expected the poltergeist to turn tail and run at the sight of one of them.

He hadn't been able to explain that the only reason Peeves had run was because of the spell Grams had placed on him and with Ron embellishing the story any time anyone asked about it, no one believed him when he tried to tell them anything different.

Other than History of Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts, the classes had all been pretty interesting so far. He was finding out that in the world of wanded wizards there was apparently a lot more to magic than just waving a wand about and it was definitely very different from the magic that Grams had been teaching him.

Having something of a green thumb, Harry had expected to enjoy herbology, but the plants Professor Sprout had in her greenhouse he had never seen before.

Transfiguration and Charms had been ok, especially once Professor Flitwick had stopped falling off the pile of books he stood on every time he said Harry's name. Professor McGonagall who taught Transfiguration was also his Head of house and she was as Harry expected her to be. Hard but fair for the most part.

The thing Harry couldn't understand was how they expected anybody to learn anything in History of Magic. It wasn't the fact that the class was taught by a ghost. It was that Professor Binns was boring. Harry was certain that if Binns were the sport commentator at either the Superbowl or the World Series, that he would put everyone to sleep, including the players. Even Hermione Granger who was a very overeager student had trouble staying awake through the droning monotonous voice. Harry was of the opinion that they should patent the ghost and send him to visit all those people who had trouble sleeping a few minutes of listening to that droning voice would put them out like a light.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was almost as bad, but while he didn't fall asleep in Professor Quirrell's class, Harry wasn't sure he was going to learn much from it either. Aside from the fact that the classroom reeked with the smell of garlic, any time one of the student's tried to get the professor to talk about the Dark creatures he'd faced such as the zombie he'd gotten his purple turban for taking care of, the professor would quickly change the subject to something like the weather.

Harry also got the feeling there was something not quite right about Professor Quirrell. He didn't feel the same as he had when Harry had met him Diagon Alley. Grams had taught him how to read auras when he was about eight or nine. She'd told him it was a good way to tell what was going on with someone. He didn't do it all that often, because when he opened himself up to see the auras, he also saw the colours of the magic that flowed around him. The thing was now that he was in Hogwarts he couldn't see Quirrell's aura at all, not that it had been all that strong when he'd met him in Diagon Alley, but he'd been able to see it. Then again, it could be all the magic flowing around him that was messing with his perceptions.

The class Harry had been dreading was on Friday, and it was the first class. The Gryffindors had Double Potions with the Slytherins.

At breakfast, Ron told him. "Snape's Head of Slytherin. According to Fred and few of the other older Gryffindors he always favours his house. We'll know if they were right soon enough."

Having met Professor Snape the first time he was here, Harry didn't doubt that claim at all, but made no comment about it.

As Harry started in on his breakfast, he heard the rustle of wings and hooting that indicated the arrival of the morning mail. He looked up expectantly. Grams had told him she would put all letters in a manila envelope in his bottom dresser drawer once a week, so last night he had shifted any manila envelopes from the drawer to the trunk in the Guardian's home and told Hedwig that he had done so. Now all he had to do was wait and see if anything arrived. He caught sight of snowy owl coming in near the end of the stream of owls.

She was carrying a rather fat manila envelope in her talons and what looked like a folded note in her beak. Reliving her of the note and the envelope, Harry fed her some bacon. Stuffing the envelope into his book bag, he turned his attention to the unexpected note and found it to be an invitation from Hagrid to come down for tea that afternoon. Borrowing a quill from Ron, he quickly scribbled a reply that he would be there and gave it to Hedwig who took off to deliver it.

"What's in the big envelope?" Ron asked around a mouthful of toast.

'Letters from home,' was all Harry said.

Harry had eaten about half of his breakfast before he gave into the pleading little voice in his head that was demanding he read the letters now. Pulling one of the smaller ones out of the big envelope, he recognised the scrawl as Phoebe's. It was several pages long and Harry couldn't help smiling at some of the things she'd written.

He got so lost in his letters from home that Ron had to nudge him hard and say, "Harry, we'd better get moving. We don't want to be late for Potions."

Shoving Prue's letter back in his book bag with the others, Harry followed Ron and the other Gryffindor first years to the dungeons.

When Harry got his first look at the potions lab, he thought it looked more like a mad scientist's lab out of one of those old black and white movies. The flickering torchlight illuminating the potions lab revealed jars with dead animals floating in them. The only thing missing was the monster on his slab and the mad scientist cackling over it.

They had just taken their seats when Professor Snape swept in. Going to the front of the room, he began to call the roll. Just like every other teacher, he paused at Harry's name. However unlike the others, he commented in a soft sarcastic tone. "Ah yes, ... Harry Potter. Our new -- celebrity."

Harry kept silent, not wanting to give him an opening. Not that he needed one last time, Harry reminded himself as he heard Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins sniggering and settled the rest of his supplies on the table.

As he opened his notebook and took out a pen, Snape strode over and picked it up. Holding the notebook between his thumb and forefinger as if it were contaminated, he asked. "What is this?"

'A spiral notebook to keep my notes in, Professor.' Harry gripped the piece of jet in his pocket, trying to keep calm and not let his nervousness show. This man wanted him nervous if not outright scared of him and he was determined not to give him that satisfaction.

"So our celebrity thinks that he's too good to use the same supplies as everybody else." Snape commented with a sneer.

Time to try Gram's idea. He focused his thoughts on how Professor Snape would look dressed in that gold outfit George wore at the Impressionist club, when he wanted to look like Dolly Parton. The image of a greasy haired, hooked-nosed man dressed as a well-endowed Dolly Parton, made Harry smile as he calmly replied, 'My Aunt felt that it made more sense to have my notes organised in one place instead of on pieces of parchment that might get lost. The work I have to turn in will be on parchment and will be done with a quill as required.'

"We'll see about that." Snape dropped the notebook on table an expression of disgust on his face.

Stalking back up to the front of the lab, Snape began his opening lecture to the first years. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making."

While Snape spoke very softly, the students caught every word he said. There was a subtle air of menace about the man that allowed him to keep a class silent without much effort.

"Since there is little foolish wand waving here, I am certain that many of you will not believe this magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Ron nudged Harry in the silence followed and rolled his eyes.

Snape suddenly snapped out. "Potter! What would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry mentally scored two points for Grams. He was asking advanced questions in an effort to make his students feel stupid.

Meeting his gaze, Harry said. 'It makes a powerful sleeping potion called the Draught of Living Death, sir.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione Granger's hand go down.

Remembering something Grams told him, Harry added, 'and if you add St. John's Wort, Angelica, and a little ground copper to the potion, you get a vanquishing potion for a Calleach Demon.'

"Five points from Gryffindor for lying, Mr. Potter!" Snape told him.

'I did not lie, sir.' Harry countered. 'My Aunt vanquished one last week.'

"Another five points, Mr. Potter," Snape responded. "Now if you are finished disrupting my class with your little fantasies, perhaps you could tell me where to find a bezoar?"

Deciding not to push the point about the demon for now, Harry told him, 'I don't know sir.'

"Pity," Snape sounded patronising. "Clearly fame doesn't guarantee intellect, especially if the individual is living in their own fantasy world."

Knowing Snape was trying to provoke him into saying something rash, Harry stayed silent. He could see that Ms. Granger's hand was up again, but Snape was ignoring her in favour of his chosen prey.

"Well maybe you can answer this one for me, Potter." Snape leaned over him and asked. "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Harry smiled as he said, 'there is no difference between them, sir. They are the same plant which also goes by the name of aconite and if improperly handled can be very deadly.'

Snape clearly hadn't expected Harry to be able to answer any of his questions, let alone get two out of three right because he snarled at the rest of the class, "Well, why aren't you writing any of this down! And for your information, Mr. Potter, a bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons."

Still picturing Snape in that gold Dolly Parton outfit, Harry smiled as he said, "I will remember that, sir."

Harry spent part of Saturday afternoon writing letters home. The ones to the girls would go out the way he and Grams had arranged, but Grams had told him to 'shift' a letter to her after he had his first class with Professor Snape.

Harry had waited til the next day before writing the letter, to give his anger over Professor Snape's unfair accusation a chance to cool. If he'd written the letter while he was still upset about Snape accusing him of deliberately allowing another student to be injured, he might have wound up saying something that would get the Potions professor flung through the walls of Hogwarts and not just into them.

Even as he related the event from a calmer perspective, Harry still couldn't understand why Professor Snape blamed him for Neville and Seamus' potion accident. He'd been too busy trying to prevent Ron from causing the same accident to their cauldron to worry about what anybody else was up to. He knew all too well from watching his Aunt brew potions that sometimes the results could be explosive if put together wrong and sometimes even when put together right. Of course hers were usually meant to vanquish something so that was to be expected.

As he reread the letter to make sure he hadn't left anything out, Harry couldn't help wondering how Grams was going to react to it. Grams hated bullies and it was quite clear, at least to Harry that Snape fell into that category.

Ron had been right about that. The only ones safe from him were the Slytherins.

A Slytherin could probably blow up every cauldron in the room and escape punishment.

He also made sure Grams was aware of the break-in at Gringotts and that it had been the vault Hagrid had gone to when they were with him that had been broken into. While he didn't think there was any danger to Grams and the girls from whoever had been after that grubby little package, it was better to be safe than sorry, just in case they thought she might have it.

Letters completed, Harry let Hogwarts guide him to the owlery.

AN: Stick around to see what Grams does to Snape.