Potions Classroom, Sunday October 31st, 1993, 07h00.
The day of his first Hogsmeade trip has arrived, and Harry sits in the Potions classroom with Snape for the former's own protection. Thus far, he has been readying a uniquely weaker variant of the Oculus Potion, as per the Professor's advice.
"Almost done, Potter, now add that crystallised water but don't let it turn indigo as the textbook says."
"Okay, sir," says Harry, doing as told until his mixture appears a faded blue. He then stirs as instructed until it turns a tinge of orange before heating it up to a pinkish colour, rather than purple.
"Lastly, shake and add that stewed mandrake in a smaller dose than the textbook shows," says Snape, now standing beside Harry's workstation. "By brewing a weakened Oculus Potion, it will only serve to correct your eyesight until this afternoon. Remind me as to why you are not brewing it to standard strength?"
"Because a proper Oculus Potion enhances all the senses, and that would be torture in the packed village of Hogsmeade. But how do we know that this weak mixture won't just correct one of my other senses instead, sir?"
"Do not question my methods, Potter; if you follow my instructions to perfection, then this brew will act as intended." Snape now scoffs a slight bit. "How inconvenient it is for you to prepare for just one Hogsmeade trip indeed."
Once the brewing is complete, Harry thanks Snape for his assistance for today. The Potions Master, however, barely acknowledges Harry's gratitude and simply reminds him to drink a specified dose which is soon poured into a goblet for consumption. The rest is then vanished as Harry takes a few doses of Oculus. No sooner than swallowing his final mouthful does his vision blur rather spectacularly behind his glasses. The classroom and its Professor now botches and blurs before him.
"That'll be all the assistance I'll provide; go see Professor McGonagall for further advice," says Snape, ushering Harry out of his classroom. This leaves Harry to make his way up a couple of floors while en route to Professor McGonagall's office. But along the way, he casually walks past a startled Hermione near the first-floor corridor.
"Harry? How in the world are you walking around so carelessly without your glasses?" She now races over to him, her expression quite surprised.
"Oculus Potion, my Mugglebun." Harry beams at his friend's amazed expression.
Hermione nods, although she's fairly confused with regards to his plans. "But I'm sure I've read that it also enhances your other senses; it'll be a nightmare with all these people today."
He shakes his head and wags his right index finger. "Professor Snape deliberately weakened the brew according to his own genius recipe. So, it's just my eyesight that's enhanced, or in my case, corrected."
"I take it you're trying to disguise yourself from Sirius Black?" asks Hermione, walking beside Harry through the tapestry corridor as they pass Snape's storeroom.
"Sorta, I suppose that's one reason. Though mainly I'd prefer to avoid getting unwanted attention." They soon reach McGonagall's office, located off the first-floor corridor, where Harry knocks and hopes that McGonagall's available. "Come on, please be home..."
To Harry's relief, the door opens to a slightly surprised McGonagall who's minutes away from exiting. "Potter and Granger? Is there something you need?" She then listens earnestly as Harry states his request. "Yes, I suppose it makes sense to take as many precautions with you as possible, Potter."
"Come on, let's make you as unrecognisable as possible, Harry" says Hermione, ushering him into the small office which is heated by a large, welcoming fire. Once in the centre of the room, McGonagall draws her wand and takes aim at Harry. Meanwhile, Hermione eagerly stands to the side and observes what is likely to be some N.E.W.T.-level stuff indeed. When asked if she might know which spell to use, Hermione admits to not having read this far yet.
"No worries, Miss Granger," says McGonagall, turning to look at the grinning Harry. "I must remind you that this is in no way for fun and games, Potter. After some debate, she settles upon turning Harry's hair a shade of burgundy which elicits a quizzical expression from Hermione.
"Aren't we trying to keep Harry more hidden amongst the crowd, ma'am? This colour's quite eye-catching, I'd say."
"It would also make him easier for one of us to spot should he require assistance on the double," says McGonagall, now lengthening Harry's hair and aiming at his eyes. "Before you go, Potter, I'll need to change those eyes. Green like your mother's is far too obvious."
"Why would Sirius Black care about my eyes?" asks Harry, though without response from McGonagall who soon Transfigures them to blue.
"Off you go now and remember: they'll all wear off around this afternoon. Please be in the castle before then," says McGonagall sternly.
"Yes, ma'am, I'll give you my slip at the courtyard," replies Harry, swiftly turning around and strutting out the room. "You wanna see something amazingly awesome, Hermione? The source of my shiny Gringotts vault?" He proceeds to pull out a tub of Sleekeazy's Hair Care Potion from his pocket.
"You really ordered that for today?" Hermione keenly inspects the sealed tub as Harry gives a brief overview of his late paternal grandfather.
"...so, we can thank grandpa Fleamont for saving my arse today." Harry stops mid-way through a corridor where Hermione styles his hair down and well over his famous scar. "Do I, um, look alright?"
"Definitely! I'd love to see the look on your friends' faces when they see you now."
"Who's Harry? For now, I'm James!"
"Seriously? Using your middle name is a poor excuse of cover," replies Hermione, arriving at the first-floor balcony which cuts through the Entrance Hall. "But then again, I'm sure there are other Jameses out there in Hogsmeade anyway."
"Why don't I just call myself Tom Riddle and get a wand like Voldemort's? Imagine that: me, the Boy-Who-Lived, going around whacking people with whatever the hell wand Voldemort used, hahahaha!"
"I'm not even going to answer that," sighs Hermione, descending the marble staircase while crossing the Entrance Hall to exit the castle. "So, I'm going to be hanging out with Ron today; are you jealous, James?"
"Definitely," says Harry, gritting his teeth at the prospect of Ron getting Hermione to himself out here.
"As sly as a snake." As the minutes pass by and students gradually gather near the main gate, Hermione remains at Harry's side. "Looks like Malfoy and Greengrass have spotted you. Well, have a good day, James! I think I'll go and find Ron now."
Harry feels a pang of regret in watching Hermione walk across the courtyard towards Ron and his bunch of friends. Meanwhile, Tracey, Draco, and Daphne rush to Harry's side while awaiting their turn at the gate.
"Is this Potter?" asks Draco.
"Did we get a new student or something?" asks Tracey. The trio of Slytherins now gathered around their smug friend.
"Who's 'Harry'? I'm 'James' now," he exclaims, seeing their looks of amusement, awe, and confusion.
"You look totally different now. What happened? Your hair's all neat and changed, where's the glasses? Don't you need them? How'd you change your eyes and—"
"Relax, Draco," says Harry. "Let's just say I enlisted the help of Professor Snape and McGonagall. But everything's reverting back this afternoon."
"But why? You look handsome either way," says Tracey.
"Maybe I'm trying to hide from Sirius Black? Or perhaps I'm also just trying to be a normal boy out in the village today? Don't want people to recognise me and interrupt my buddy time," says Harry, earning looks of approval from his pals.
Daphne smiles while speaking. "That's surprisingly noble of you, Harry—"
"Uh-huh! It's James," says Harry firmly. "By the way, where are the others?"
Draco sighs. "Still eating, since everyone slept late this morning. Parkinson's gonna freak when she sees you now, Potter."
"She's gonna freak in a good way," says Harry, walking between his group as they approach Professor McGonagall standing near the gate. "Here's my slip, ma'am."
"Do take care of yourself, Potter, and for Heaven's sake don't cause any incidents out there."
Harry struts over towards Filch while gasps and whispers follow the former through the group. "Watch this," he says, briefly leaving his group to approach Fay Dunbar standing to the far right of the crowd. "Hey, you must be Fay, care to play?"
"Excuse me, but who the heck are you?" she asks, more flattered than confused.
"Name's James. I heard you're trying to become a Beater, well, I've got a nice bat for you to handle, beautiful—"
Daphne and Tracey swiftly barge their way through the crowd to grab Harry by the arms. "Leave the Gryffindors alone, Harry, for God's sake!"
"You truly are mental, Potter," states Draco, while the group awaits their opportunity to leave. Eventually, they follow the path leading to Hogsmeade's High Street where crowds of third-years take in the sights of the sole all-wizarding village in Britain.
As the crowd scatters across the village, eagerly exploring and browsing its many shops, Harry remains with his trio until the rest arrives. He turns around to view Pansy, Millicent, Sally-Anne, Crabbe and Goyle hurrying towards them. Nott and Zabini appear to be following from behind as well, and all stop in their tracks upon seeing the grinning Harry.
"What in heck?" asks a wide-eyed Sally-Anne.
"Is that who I think it is? Yeah, it's him alright," says Millicent.
"Shush! I'm trying to keep a low profile out here today. No celebrity stuff, okay? Call me James, but only out here," says Harry, basking in the bewildered looks of his peers. The moment's silence is broken as Pansy essentially leaps at him, her hug throwing both against a nearby wall.
"Oh, you're so adorable!"
"Get off me—ow! My head!" yelps Harry, hitting the brickwork as he looks around for assistance.
"Someone get her off Potter before we're all banned for public indecency," says Zabini.
Indeed, the rest of the girls eventually manage to settle Pansy down and pat the bits of ice off Harry's clothes. Minutes later, Pansy takes a deep breath and apologises. "Sorry, you just totally caught us off guard with this new look." She listens eagerly as Harry explains his reasoning once more. "That makes sense, my boy."
Draco harrumphs, trying to gather the near-dozen Slytherins together. "Right, how much have we each got to spend? I've got 25 Galleons."
"Pfft, showoff, I've got 10 G's" says Millicent, who seems to have gotten less chubby since last year.
"11 Galleons in my pocket," says Daphne, happily jingling the coins in her robes.
"13 Over here," replies Sally-Anne, flicking her bangs proudly.
"9 Each," says Crabbe, speaking on behalf of himself and Goyle.
"14 Here," adds Nott, while Zabini notes to have the same.
"Mom warned me not to overspend, so I've just got 10," says Pansy.
"I count 15 in my pocket," boasts Tracey.
Everyone turns to Harry as Draco asks, "And you Po- uh James?"
With a smug expression, Harry pats both of his trousers pockets. "I've got 30 Galleons."
"What? Are you trying to out-rich me? Alright, well played," says Draco.
Pansy politely interrupts. "Uh, none of us are poor you know."
"Yeah but Harr—, cock! I mean 'James', and Malfoy are the top 2 coin hoarders here," says Daphne. "I'd love to see their bank vaults."
"To be fair"—Harry lowers his voice—"my parents are dead, so no more fixed monthly income. You people all have an advantage over that."
"Alright, let's not get emotional," says Tracey. "Let's split up and explore this place!"
