A/N: Look, new chapter! Yay!

personaxj2- Look at this from my point of view. I was about Harry's age (11) when I started reading the series. I was too busy realizing that a British 'jumper' was a sweater, not a dress, to figure out what 'transfiguration' meant.

applebottoms- Okay, no more sugar for you… (backing away slowly)

stratagemini- Those stories are called severitus challenges. How can you not have heard of it? Also, Snape is kind of a bastard in this chapter. Sorry if you were looking forward to something else. Snape might change toward Harry in the future, but not yet.

Ryudo- Thanks for the bet offer, but I'm good. I like your ideas and I'll take them into consideration. You really should try writing your own fan fiction. It seems like you would be good at it.

To everyone else- Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you liked the sorting! I have 227 reviews, and I still don't know how! Now I feel guilty every time I go on the computer and don't feel like updating. As you can see, I've become more frequent with the chapters. I've got plenty of ideas for this story and future sequels of you can believe it. I just suck at deciding how to start the chapter. I think all those years of writing for my English teachers have screwed up my creativity. Everything they taught me has been thrown out the window and run screaming down the street.


"Oy, Harry, check this out!"

Harry looked up from his pancakes in annoyance. He had woken up late that morning as none of his oh-so-wonderful roommates thought to wake him. Now he was trying to stuff as much food down as possible before taking off for their first class.

"What is it?"

Blaise shoved a newspaper under his nose. It was a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Where did you get this?"

"Oh, I just borrowed it from Pansy over there," she pointed down the table where a girl with short black hair and a pug-like face was talking to her friends, or rather, talking down to them.

"Ah, Blaise, don't tell me you haven't made any new friends yet?" Harry said in a stern voice while maintaining a straight face.

"Are you kidding?" Blaise looked at the chatting girls in disgust, "Tracey's not too bad, almost reminds me of a Ravenclaw, but Daphne is like Pansy's sidekick, and Millicent reminds me way too much of those apes following Malfoy around," Harry glanced at the hulking girl stationed next to Pansy and had to agree. She looked like a female version of Crabbe and Goyle, the two lackeys that followed the blonde boy around like a shadow.

"And the worst part," Blaise continued, "is that it's like they idolize that snob! She actually had the nerve to corner me last night and question me!"

"What did she want?" Harry asked in concern.

"That's the creepiest part! She wanted to know everything about you!"

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice.

"What?"

"Exactly what I said. She wanted to know how I knew you, where you grew up, what you were like, why you were in Slytherin, if you were single…"

"What did you tell her?" Harry cringed at the thought of this Pansy stalking him.

"Not much, just that we've known each other for years, and that your personal life was none of her business."

"Bet she didn't like that."

Blaise glared in the direction of said girl, barely noticing as her hands twisted the newspaper violently, "Of course not! She snubbed me and spent the next hour keeping me up with her annoying voice. I've never heard so much giggling in my life!"

Harry gently took the remains of the paper from his friend, wary of her temper, "Just forget about her. So what was it you wanted to show me?"

Blaise perked up immediately and pointed at an article on the front page.

Harry looked up at his anxious friend before scanning over the article.

BOY-WHO-LIVED SPOTTED IN DIAGON ALLEY

His eyes narrowed and he growled at the wizarding picture. It showed a clear shot of Hagrid walking down the cobbled street with Harry tucked under one arm, a dazed expression on his face.

"Oops, wrong one," Blaise grinned sheepishly and pointed at a different article further down.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 August, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts Goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

"I wonder what they were trying to steal," Harry pondered aloud.

"I don't know, but did you look at the date?"

Harry reread the article and gasped, "That's the same day we were there! We must have just missed them!" his face took on a pensive look, "Blaise, it says the vault was emptied that very same day…"

Her eyes lit up with understanding, "Hagrid! He took something out, that little box. He was awfully suspicious about the whole thing..."


Harry and Blaise were both lost… again.

"I knew it!" Blaise shouted as they sped down another identical corridor.

"Knew… what?" Harry asked, panting.

"I knew we were going to have problems getting to class! How is it the rest of the first years have managed to find Defense Against the Dark Arts while we're still running around deserted hallways?" she clutched a stitch in her side as they climbed another staircase.

"The buddy system?" Harry suggested jokingly.

"Ha! Some buddy you are," Blaise grumbled.

Suddenly, the staircase jerked underneath them. The two held on for dear life as they swung across open air to stop at another door.

"Bloody hell!" Blaise cursed.

Harry trudged forward and went to grab the handle, hoping to figure out where they were.

"Stop!"

"What?" Harry looked around in confusion as Blaise tugged him away from the door, "Where are you going?"

"We can't go down there."

"Why?"

Blaise let out an irritated breath, "Harry, did you pay any attention at all to the welcoming feast?"

"Um, no." Harry thought back to feast. He hadn't really paid attention to anything. He was too busy trying to ignore everyone.

"Well, Dumbledore said that the third-floor corridor was 'out of bounds to any who do not wish to suffer a very painful death…'" she trailed off in a misty voice.

Harry snorted at the act, "Well, you know what that means?"

"What?"

"We have to go see what's down there!" Harry stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Blaise stared at him incredulously before hitting over the head.

"Ow!"

"Maybe later, Harry. I would rather not get detention for being late on the first day. We haven't even done anything yet!"


"Sorry we're late, Professor," Harry said after catching his breath. He and Blaise had finally found the classroom when a Gryffindor ghost took pity on them by pointing out that they should be heading in the opposite direction.

They burst into the room under the stares of both Slytherins and Ravenclaws. As they took their seats at the back, Harry squirmed under the looks he was receiving from both houses. Some were still suspicious of the Boy-Who-Lived's placement. Others seemed downright hostile, making Harry consider researching protection charms as soon as possible. Strangely, the Slytherins seemed to tolerate Blaise more, if not for her acquaintance with Harry Potter.

"N-not to w-worry, P-Potter," Professor Quirrell stuttered with a strange look in his eyes, "Just t-try to be on t-time. N-now b-back to the l-lesson…"

As Quirrell went on to describe his travels fighting the dark arts, Blaise sniffed the air.

"Do you smell garlic?"

"Must be protection against the vampire he fought in Romania. It's a real shame it got away," he whispered sarcastically.

"Too bad it didn't eat him," Blaise quipped.

Harry rolled his eyes as Quirrell recounted the time he got rid of a zombie for an African prince, receiving in return the giant purple turban he wore. He didn't see how a man that looked ready to die of a heart attach when a fly startled him could be a hunter of dark creatures. When a Ravenclaw named Terry Boot asked for details, Quirrell blushed and changed the subject.

Blaise started snickering, and Harry looked up quickly to see if Quirrell was going to reprimand them for talking. Instead, he found the man eyes focused solely on him. Harry held his penetrating gaze for a moment before something odd happened.

"Ah!" Harry clapped a hand to his forehead. He had felt a sharp stab of pain that seemed to go as quickly as it came. When he looked back up, Quirrell was speaking to the class as though nothing had happened.

"Harry, you okay?"

Harry shook his head and opened his textbook, "Yeah, I'm fine."


The rest of their week went by quickly. The subjects they were taking sounded fascinating, that is, if you were a fifth year. Then you got to try things a muggle could only dream of. Instead, as first years, Harry and Blaise were restricted to only the simplest spells until they read up on the theory.

Transfiguration, the study of changing one thing into another, was taught by Professor McGonagall. She gave the class a stern talking to about classroom conduct and turning in assignments on time. Then she turned her desk into a pig, causing the new students to gasp in awe and pull out their own wands eagerly. They were sorely disappointed when she said that was something they wouldn't even attempt until their OWLS, Ordinary Wizarding Tests. Instead, she ordered them to turn to page twenty-four in 'A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration' and read for an hour. Afterwards, they were handed a single match and attempted to turn it into a needle.

"Ya know, I think it looks a little pointier," Blaise said in a hopeful voice as she examined her own match.

"Whatever you say, Blaise," Harry chuckled.

Blaise huffed and crossed her arms, "Fine! Why don't you try if you're so smart?"

Harry picked up his holly wand and tapped the match, picturing what he wanted to happen, "Converto."

It looked like nothing had happened, and Harry shrugged. 'Oh, well. It's not like I can expect it to work the first time… What the-'

Harry felt a familiar tingle going down his arm, and gasped when a red spark jumped from the tip of his wand to the match. He watched, amazed, as it morphed into a perfect needle.

"How did you do that?" Blaise asked, awed and a little jealous.

"I have no idea."

"Potter, Zabini, how are you two coming along?"

McGonagall walked over to their table, ready to take off points for talking. She froze when the torches glinted off something metallic in front of Harry. To say she was stunned would be an understatement. Not even that nice Gryffindor, Miss Granger, had managed it in one try!

She gave a barely noticeable smile, "Five points to Slytherin. Keep up the good work, Mr. Potter."

Harry and Blaise exchanged surprised looks as she walked away. McGonagall had been a little stiff towards them of late. Harry assumed she was unhappy with his sorting. As the head of Gryffindor, she would have been expecting him to go there, just like his parents.


Another class was Herbology, taught by Professor Sprout. She had them working outside in the greenhouses. Blaise didn't mind it, but Harry was uncomfortably reminded of when he used to tend the garden for his aunt.

On Wednesdays, at midnight, they had Astronomy. There was no actual magic involved, just studying the night skies, and mapping out the stars. That was definitely one of Blaise's least favorite subjects. She thought it was insane to wake up in the middle of the night for schoolwork.

Luckily, she could always catch up on sleep in History of Magic. Binns, the only dead professor, taught that class. He had some kind of obsession with the goblin wars, something that could be very exciting with all the blood and violence. Unfortunately for them, he would only lecture the entire time in the same droning voice. It was sad the way he could make the gory beheading of General Ragnok sound about as interesting as the time he misplaced his boot.

Harry and Blaise weren't the only ones left in a kind of stupor during that period. More than one person could be found drooling on their bag, only to fall out of their seat when the bell rang.


Charms was the only other time they were permitted to use their wands. Professor Flitwick was teaching them how to levitate a feather. The incantation was 'Wingardium Leviosa!' The spell was rather difficult, and even Harry was having some trouble with it. Despite his miraculous show in Transfiguration, he couldn't get that feeling to come back. Without it, he felt a lot like Blaise at the time. He felt as though he was waving around a big stick and yelling at a feather in gibberish.

This was one of the few subjects they had with the Gryffindors, and it wasn't going too well.

"No, not like that! You're saying it wrong! It's 'win-GAR-dium levi-O-sa. You need to make the 'gar' nice and long…"

Harry groaned. The Gryffindors were at each others' throats again. He was starting to feel grateful he hadn't gone into that house, if only so he wouldn't need to listen to their bickering all the time. Weasley and Granger never gave it a rest!

He hadn't really spoken to Ron since the sorting; it was kind of hard to talk to someone that glared at you in the hallways, and made of point of announcing their loyalties on a daily basis. While the youngest Weasley seemed to feel betrayed that his idol was turning into the next dark lord, the Weasley twins were perfectly fine about it. When Harry and Blaise asked why, they said it was easier to prank them without remorse. After that, Harry had added hexes to the list of things to search for in the library, with a reminder about the protection charms.

"Oh, look, class! Miss Granger's done it!" Professor squeaked happily as the rest of the class watched her white feather drift lazily around the ceiling. She smiled in a self-satisfied way at Weasley, who just growled before returning to his own feather.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather gave a half-hearted twitch on the desk before remaining still. Weasley groaned and threw down his wand angrily.

"I told you, you're supposed to say-" Granger began in a suffering tone.

"Oh, sod off!" He yelled, his face matching his hair color more by the second.

"Mr. Weasley, language!" Flitwick scolded.

Weasley was saved from a serious deduction in points when an explosion came from the table near Harry and Blaise.

Blaise coughed, waving away the smoke. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing.

The Gryffindor nearby, Finnigan, had been getting more frustrated throughout the period with his own feeble attempts at the spell. The arguing from Granger and Weasley probably wasn't helping his concentration. Finally, he just shouted the incantation, jabbing his wand at the fragile feather… and setting it on fire. One had to wonder how he accomplished that… Maybe Harry would ask later… it could have its uses.

Flitwick scurried over, muttering a charm to clear the air. The rest of the class was too busy laughing as Finnigan reached up to feel the remains of his singed eyebrows.


Harry, Blaise, and probably the rest of the Slytherins, were relieved to leave Charms. It seemed to be a well-known fact that Gryffindor and Slytherin were mortal enemies. Any room filled with tension, and one could almost claim the temperature dropped a few degrees when the two warring houses were in close proximity. The rivalry they shared was legendary, dating back thousands of years to Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin themselves. It was something everyone knew of, and most made a point of avoiding… So Harry had to wonder what the headmaster was thinking when he put the two together in a dank dungeon for two hours straight.

When Harry and Blaise entered Potions, they took seats on the side of the room dedicated to the color green. It was like there was an invisible barrier declaring one side the territory of the snakes and the other the lions. To cross that barrier was considered suicidal. The Gryffindors glared across the room while the Slytherins sneered in disdain. Not a word was spoken. The silence was finally broken when the door banged open and the greasy potions master himself swooped in, black robes billowing behind him.

'Oh, I was hoping he was still comatose,' Harry mentallly whined, 'Is that too much to ask for?'

Snapeproceeded to call the roll, taking the time to observe the students. He glared at Weasley, whose return glare wasn't nearly as threatening. Longbottom squeaked in fear when his name was called. Granger was practically bouncing in her seat for the lesson to begin.

"That girl needs a sedative," Harry muttered discreetly to Blaise. She nodded in agreement while pointing out that Longbottom could use one too. Harry was silently rooting for the boy, who looked like he might faint. Maybe they could get out of class early?

Snape turned off his glare while addressing his Slytherins. He even gave a smirk to Draco Malfoy, who returned it, looking as though they were old friends.

"Teacher's pet," Harry hissed before getting a disturbing mental image of Snape playing with a puppy. It took all his self control not to crack up right there.

Potions was the best subject of all for Slytherins. Snape, as their head of house, favored them above all others. It meant easy grades and free house points, something the rest of the school hated them for. That was the way it had always been, that is, until Harry Potter became a Slytherin.

"Ah, yes," he sneered, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity," he left his desk and walked towards Harry and Blaise's table, "I can't see how you managed to get sorted into Slytherin. You probably just wanted the attention,"

Harry clenched his teeth, and tried to stay calm. The Slytherins watched the exchange curiously, while some of the Gryffindors dared to laugh. For perhaps the first time in history, Snape let them.

"Potter!" he barked.

Harry's eyes shot up and met the dark orbs defiantly.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry's eyed widened in disbelief. How the hell was he supposed to know that?

Snape tutted, "Fine, let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Behind Snape, Harry could see Granger straining out of her seat, her arm waving frantically.

"I'm not sure, but I think Granger has some idea."

Snape narrowed his eyes and told her to sit down, which she did with some reluctance.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you didn't bother to open a book before coming here, Potter. Probably think you are above such things-"

"No I don't," Harry interrupted in a quiet voice. Snape scowled at the interruption.

Blaise could see Harry's fisted hands shaking under their table. She touched his arm, offering what little support she could. Harry released a calming breath. 'If Snape wants to play games…'

"Actually, Professor," he emphasized the title, indicating he meant to say something much more colorful, "I just bought those books, and I haven't passed chapter five yet, which, by the way, says nothing about those herbs."

Snape leered, "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Harry glared up at the man. Snape knew Harry couldn't tell anyone that he'd been at Hogwarts the last days of summer. Suddenly, he remembered something from early that week.

"Well, sir, if you'll look in the Daily Prophet, I believe there was an article about it," he pointed out innocently. For once, he was glad for reporters.

Snape scowled, "Five points from Slytherin, for your cheek! For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping drought so powerful it is known as the Drought of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. Why are you all just sitting there? Start copying this down!" he snapped and the class started rummaging for quills and parchment.

While Harry searched his bag, he could be heard muttering furiously about slimy gits.

"Hey, Harry," Blaise leaned over, whispering offhandedly, "I don't think he likes you too much."

Harry snorted. 'Note to self,' he thought, 'Add revenge on Snape to things I need to research.'

Harry heard snickering and looked up. Weasley was watching him and saying something to his friends, most likely about how it was only a matter of time before Snape tried to use him for potion ingredients.

'Make that revenge on Snape and Weasley.'


REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!

At this rate, I may pass five hundred by the time this story is finished! Whoa…

Sorry this update took a while. I had the whole thing planned out ages ago, but with my volunteering, I've been forced to wake up early when my sleeping habits are stuck at 1 am. The lack of sleep has made it impossible to find the energy to make a new chapter. How was it?

Next Time:

I'm hoping to write about the well-known flying lessons. They will be different than the book, but if you have any suggestion…