– CHAPTER TEN –

An Interlude

Approximately eight weeks into the school year, Dumbledore called a staff meeting. It was routine at the beginning of each term, to ensure that there were no problems with students.

"So, are there any problems we need to go over?" He asked, his grandfatherly persona in place, eyes twinkling furiously.

"Nothing springs to mind, Albus." Minerva said, biting on her lip for a moment, before deciding to go for broke. "Well... there is one student who I feel I should mention."

"Harry Potter." Several other teachers spoke as one.

Dumbledore suppressed a groan. He'd been expecting something like this. After finding out he was famous, he would inevitably become an arrogant idiot. "What about Mr. Potter?" He asked warily.

"Well..." McGonagall began.

"Transfiguration is the most complex of all magical arts." McGonagall said firmly, before changing her desk into a pig, then changing it back. "As such, if anybody feels a need to 'play about' in my lessons, they can leave now. I can assure you, if I catch you not taking this seriously, I will evict you from this class immediately, never to return."

Hermione and Harry shared a glance, before turning their attention back to the stern professor.

For the next hour, she lectured on the basic principles of Transfiguration, going into enough detail to make Harry go cross-eyed. A swift whack on the back of his head from Hermione straightened him out, while he looked down at his notes.

Thank god for auto-quills! He thought, as he saw every word she'd said neatly written in front of him, just waiting to be read. Ha! I think not.

At that point, McGonagall began handing out matchsticks, telling the students to begin transfiguring them into needles.

Harry glanced around the room, taking in the other students. For some reason, this class included all four houses, giving Harry a prime view of the Ferret, the Weasel, and what appeared to be Weasel's new sidekicks, Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnegan.

Smirking to himself, Harry, using wandless magic, ignited Ron's match, causing him to drop it and squeal like a four-year old girl.

God, that never gets old. He thought to himself, glancing at Hermione, who was watching him with a faintly disapproving frown.

"Was that really necessary?" She hissed at him.

Harry thought for a moment. "Was it necessary? No." He said. "But, you forgot the follow-up question: Was it funny?"

Hermione suppressed her smirk, before turning back to her match. Harry decided to mess with the Ferret, igniting his match, before getting on with changing his own.

With a tiny flick of his wand, the match changed into a perfect needle. McGonagall was busy scolding both Weasley and Malfoy, handing out new matches.

Hermione looked over, a frustrated frown on her face at seeing Harry complete the assignment so easily, while she'd only managed to make her match slightly pointy.

Harry caught her look, and smiled at her. "Hermione, what are you doing?" He whispered.

"How'd you do that?" She hissed.

"I'll show you." He took the match out of her hand, waving his wand to 'reset' it back to a plain match.

Over the next ten minutes, Harry explained the secret of Transfiguration to Hermione, who followed with a rapt attention that scared the piss out of him. Unknown to Harry, McGonagall was loitering on the floor in her Animagus form, listening to every word he said.

He finished the explanation, handing the match back to Hermione, while McGonagall scurried away. With a flick of her wand, Hermione's match had changed into a perfect needle.

Harry looked up to see McGonagall stood directly in front of his desk. "That will be five points to Ravenclaw, Miss Granger, for an perfect job at transfiguring your needle." She looked at Harry. "And that will be ten points to Ravenclaw for you, Mr. Potter, for being the first to complete the assignment, and an additional five points for your detailed explanation to Miss Granger."

Harry blinked... then blinked again. An elbow to his ribs, courtesy of the lovely Miss Granger, brought Harry's attention back to the here and now. "Thank you, Professor."

Harry picked up his needle, and started playing, waving his wand. The needle began to grow, both in length and thickness. When it got to be about two metres long, Harry stopped.

"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, wondering what the hell she'd do with a two metre long sewing needle.

"I thought it'd be good for sports day." Harry said. "Javelin's supposed to be really good for the arm."

"Right." McGonagall said, taking the freaky needle from him, and placing it on her desk.

Dumbledore looked stunned for a moment. "So... he turned a match into a Javelin?" He asked. Even as a Transfiguration Master, he'd be hard pressed to match that. There was only so much you could do with a small match.

"That's not all." McGonagall added. "During every lesson, he completes his work with an ease I'd be barely able to do. At this rate, he'll have completed his NEWTs by the end of his first year."

"I-I had s-something s-s-similar." Quirrell said, stuttering his way through the sentence. "T-throughout my l-lesson, he knew e-e-everything I tried to t-t-teach him. I agree with M-Minerva. He'll be a NEWT student within weeks at t-this rate."

Dumbledore looked at Sprout, who shrugged. "He handles plants like I do, Albus." She said simply.

"Proof enough of near-Mastery level." He said, tipping his hat to Sprout. He looked at his snarky Potions Master. "Severus?"

Snape sneered, before toning down his annoyance. "He's an... adequate brewer." He said.

McGonagall smiled at Flitwick. "Severus, for you, that's positively gushing! He must be good."

"Filius?" Dumbledore asked, trying to keep the meeting on track.

"As good as his mother was during her OWL year." Flitwick said. "He seems to have a natural connection with magic. I do believe that boy could make his Charms do anything he wants."

Hooch spoke up. "During his first flying lesson, he got on a broom, an old Cleansweep Three, in dying need of replacing, and made it perform like a brand new Nimbus, Albus." She smiled at the memory. "Not only that, he took another student up with him, since she was afraid to go on her own. Since then, she's come to me several times for practice."

"We saw them." McGonagall and Flitwick said together. "Coming back from the lake." McGonagall concluded.

"They looked so romantic." Flitwick said dreamily.

Snape snorted, then started coughing. "Please, not more Potter love disasters..." He muttered to himself.

"So, Mr. Potter's adjusting well to life in school." Dumbledore said. General murmurs of agreement were made by the staff members present. "He's not displaying any signs of... Severus, do not answer this... he's not demonstrating any arrogance, or belief that he should be treated differently that other students?"

The group shook their heads, except for Hooch. "Other than what I told you about, Albus. I wouldn't normally allow two first years together on a broom, but he appears to have his father's skill... and you know how good he was."

Flitwick perked up. "As good as his father?" His eyes turned glassy at the prospect of a Potter on his House Quidditch team.

"Better, I'd say." Hooch said, smiling at the Charms Professor's enthusiasm.

"Albus, could we-"

"Yes." Dumbledore interrupted. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of potential Quidditch talent, Filius."

In the Gryffindor dormitories, three young men plotted mischief.

"Why are we doing this again?" Neville asked. "It seems... dishonest."

Ron frowned. "Neville, doesn't it seem odd that the 'Boy-Who-Lived', the saviour of the Wizarding world, is in the house for bookworms? Shouldn't he be here, in Gryffindor? Home of the Brave?"

"He should." The third member of the trio said, his accent slurring his words slightly. "Harry shouldn't be a Ravenclaw. He'll turn out to be just another nerd. We should get him to move in with us."

Neville just shrugged. "Who cares? I mean, he took care of You-Know-Who. What does it matter what house he's in?"

"Well, I don't like him." Seamus said.

"Maybe so," Ron said, "but, you know about the Potters. They were a very wealthy family, and if we make ourselves friends with Harry, we could share that wealth. Plus, there's the fame of being his friends. He'll be in the spotlight a lot while he's here at Hogwarts, and if we're his mates, we can be there, too."

This appealed to Neville's shy nature. "In the spotlight? As his friends?"

"How hard can it be, really?" Ron asked. "I mean, all he does is hang out with that ugly little bushy-haired bookworm. We're way better friends for him."

Seamus and Neville looked at each other and shrugged. "I'm in." Seamus said.

"Me, too." Neville added.

"Shit." Ron looked at his watch. "Come on... we'll be late for Charms."