The Abuse in a Violently Different Dimension
By Juu & Jek

not beta-read

10. Get off My Back

Well you think that you can take me on
You must be crazy
There ain't a single thing you've done
That's gonna phase me

Harry sat with his head leaning on his left hand at a table, writing with his right hand potions procedures in his notebook. Was he to sit like this in his own world's Potionsclass; he would have lost all his housepoints already! Here Snape just didn't seem to care.

From the moment he had stepped into class, Snape's glare had guided him to a single desk at the front of the class that was bare of potion ingredients and utensils.

Apparently Snape didn't trust Harry to be able to brew a potion without catastrophic results and it was expected of the Hufflepuff to sit, watch and make notes. If he even dared to look at someone else's potion, Snape took away points!

Harry thought this to be a bit drastic. His world's Neville had been a big screw up in class and still got to follow normal potionlessons and was not expected to stay quietly in a corner like he was now. He couldn't be worse than that!

Could he?

Never minding that, it had to be illegal for Snape to deny him from getting any practical experience. What about when he got his Newts? How was he supposed to do those when he never got to touch anything in class? How was he supposed to pass Potions like this!

The Universe Hopper was understandably rather peeved at his position. He didn't really enjoy Potions, but to have people think he was too stupid to brew a simple Healing Draught was not something he appreciated.

Harry held his quill a bit too tightly in his grasp and it broke in half, making a large ink stain appear on his notes. He cursed softly under his breath, but not soft enough since Snape still heard it.

"Is there something wrong, Mister Potter?" Professor Snape's silky voice suddenly asked from his side and Harry quickly leaned away from the man.

"No sir, nothing wrong sir," he said quickly, remembering his promise to professor Rosier to be a 'good' student.

Snape's slanted eyes glanced from his face, over to the broken quill and ended up staring at the ruined notes. "Write it again. You'll get a written test tomorrow when the others have their practical." He stood straight up again and moved away to badger another student.

Harry frowned, feeling miserable. This sucked big time.

After the abnormally boring Potions lesson, Harry slowly trudged towards his next class, which appeared to be Muggle Studies.

In his own world, in his year only the purebloods had to follow that class, but perhaps he was raised in a pureblood family here? He was near the appointed classroom when he realized it might not be the same place where it was taught in his world.

Thankfully enough, a quick glance into the room proved he was at the right place and he sat down next to a Gryffindor girl.

The girl gave him only a swift glance, but Harry could feel she was curious about something. Also the fact that she kept glancing at him from the corners of her eyes gave it away. It was probably because of the scene he'd made that morning and Harry suppressed a sullen groan.

"Good afternoon class."

"Good afternoon Professor Whist," the class answered overall politely.

Harry glanced at the professor and recognized it to be the man who he had seen a few times in the hallways. The man smiled broadly at his students and held up a few papers.

"It's time for a short oral pop-quiz!" he said enthusiastically and chuckled when he heard various groans and moans. "Oh come on, you must know this all or else you'll flunk during the actual exams!"

Professor Whist glanced around the class. "Mister Feuer," he glanced at his paper. "What do Muggles use to clean their dishes?"

"Um… they do it by hand?"

The professor nodded amiable. "True, but what do the richer Muggles own?"

"Wait, I know that one!" exclaimed the Hufflepuff thought deeply for a moment. "A Laundromat!" he finally answered with a proud grin.

"Aw, sorry to say, but they use those to wash their clothes. Does anyone else know the answer?"

The students shrugged and glanced around to see if anyone else knew it. Apparently no one did and Harry rolled his eyes, then raised his hand.

"Yes Mister Potter? I do hope you're not going to ask me to make the questions less difficult, like you did last time."

"It's a dishwasher," Harry said, ignoring the fact that again he was being underestimated.

All the students turned to look startled at him, as to see if it was really Harry who had given that answer. Harry, the one they'd know to be lazy and dumb concerning schoolwork and who even went as far as to ask at the first lesson of the year what a Muggle was.

Whist was equally baffled and stared strangely at his student. "That answer is correct. You just earned Hufflepuff ten points, Misterr. Potter, congratulations," Whist said and a small smile appeared on his face. Perhaps there still was hope for the boy.

After this astonishing performance of intellect, the lesson was filled with boring information about Muggles, all of which Harry already knew. He had grown up amongst Muggles for Merlin's sake!

But they didn't expect him to know anything beyond his probably once in a lifetime right answer. The Harry of this world was a bloody nimrod...

Luckily time went by rather fast and soon all classes were over and done. He still was a bit dazed about actually being in a different world. What the heck was he supposed to do now? He decided to go outside and let the cold winter-air clear his head.

As he walked through the hallways Harry heard someone running after him and he turned around to watch his so-called friend Nathan run up to him.

"Hey Harry! Do you want me to help you write that paper about 'Muggles and elektrikity'? We can do it together if you want to!"

"Sure," he answered after giving it a short thought and he gave the blond-what he hoped looked like-a thankful grin. "I'll meet up with you after dinner in the Library."

It is 'Electricity'. Guess, I'll be the one giving the help tonight.

The lake outside was grey, reflecting the dark clouds in the sky; it would probably start to snow again soon. There were only a few other students wandering around in the cold and of course there was Hagrid at the edge of the forest trying to-what appeared to be-dig into the frozen ground. He probably still was the Gamekeeper.

Guess he never got around teaching, Harry thought as he sat down under a tree near the water and he quickly cast a spell to make sure he wouldn't freeze his bits off. His eyes followed the large man with a bit of longing. After all, it had been quite normal for him and his two best friends to go to Hagrid after a long and stressful day.

The half-giant probably didn't know him too well here, so no Rock Cakes for Harry. And Hermione…

Harry frowned. Morgane said she was a Slytherin, but how different could she be? What about Ron? Was he anything like his Ron? He's a Quidditch player and in Gryffindor, so that is still the same.

The emerald eyed teen sighed deeply and leaned his head against the tree bark to look up at the cloudy sky. It would start to snow soon and then he would have to go back into the castle again. He would have to go and meet with people who knew him, but who not 'knew' him. Not really. And people he knew, but who had never even heard of him!

Perhaps it's for the better. No people who see me as the Boy-Who-Lived. No secrets and lies about me spread by the daily Prophet. No pictures. No Deatheaters trying to kill me. No constant pressure. No fights with Malfoy...

Harry shot right up as he realized something incredible. He was just an ordinary student here! Here, there was Neville as the world's saviour. They didn't expect Harry to be their Golden Hero and defeat Voldemort; they expected Neville to do so.

A small grin spread on Harry's face. "I can consider it as some sort of vacation!" he said triumphant, but his elated mood was interrupted by a distinctive cry coming from the Forbidden Forest.

Harry jumped to his feet and stared distrustful at the woods. Just moments later he could see something fly up above a tree and then drop amongst the branches again. It had been rather far away, but seemed like a vulture of some sort.

Harry glanced up to the sky above him just in time to receive a large flock of snow on his glasses and decided he had been long enough outside. It would be better if he headed in before the snow really would fall down.

To Be Continued