Thanks for reviewing, and for coming to see this next chapter. Guess I must be doing something right after all!

As per a question I got, here is the only answer I can give you: I don't know how the beds get chosen. Like many people, I tune Hermione out when she starts giving out too much information. As far as I know, its magic.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (duh)

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…

Harry didn't sleep that well on the first night - she was a light sleeper and something kept waking her up, something about a hat and green light that she couldn't remember - but she started sleeping better every night afterwards. Hogwarts was a wonderful place, indeed…or at least it would be wonderful if everyone would just stop staring at her and whispering about her in voices that were very much not 'hush-hush'.

Getting around was hard enough without having all these people to deal with. The staircases at Hogwarts liked to move around when no one was watching, and had trick steps, and sometimes vanished completely while you were walking on it if it wasn't every other Tuesday…

If the stairs weren't hard enough, there were the doors to contend with: there were doors that needed to be found, behind paintings and tapestries, and other doors that needed to be asked to open, or argued with, only to turn out that they lead the opposite way you were going, or went backwards, making you walk right out of the doorway you had just entered, and there were even ones that went nowhere at all…andthen there were the stairs and doors that weren't actually stairs OR doors, but were just the walls and floor having a bit of fun pretending.

For the first couple of days, Harry followed Lavender and Parvati's example and stuck close to the ever-chatty Hermione when going from place to place. Hermione had a knack for finding her way around Hogwarts - probably from all her reading about the place - but once they got the hang of things Parvati and Lavender ditched her. Well, to be more specific, they ditched Hermione.

They would have stayed around Harry, giggling and twittering like nitwits, but Harry had been doubling back to find Ron - he got lost every day, ever since school started - and since Lavender and Parvati were 'normal' eleven year old girls and Ron was an eleven year old boy…that settled that.

One time Harry came back to find that Ron was trying to force his way into a locked door that lead in the opposite direction of the class they were both supposed to be heading for. Unfortunately, that door was also the entrance to the forbidden corridor on the third floor, and Filch caught them before Harry could get Ron away. The caretaker's wheezy diatribe on how he would punish them for their wicked ways was only interrupted when Quirrell happened by and rescued them.

If getting to the classes was hard, the lessons themselves were all so very much worse. There was weekly Astronomy, held late and at night, and three times a week was Herbology, held in the greenhouses behind the school, and then there was History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns, who - as Ron put it - was the only teacher to ever manage to bore himself to death. Death, unfortunately, had not put an end to Binns' boring lectures, as he was the castle's only teaching ghost.

Charms - taught by tiny Professor Flitwick - was a more fun and useful class, and during roll call on the first day he gave an excited squeak and fell off his chair when he called Harry's name.

Transfiguration, however, was work. Hard work, even, and McGonagall was a stern taskmistress. As a demonstration, she changed her desk into a pig and back - reminding Harry of Dudley - before setting the class to making needles out of matchsticks.

Hermione and Harry were the only ones to get their matchsticks silver or pointy by the end of class, and Hermione did it first. Harry watched her do it, and with a vague idea of what needed to happen changed her matchstick just as McGonagall came by to check on her progress. The no-nonsense teacher was so delighted by this abundant evidence of talent that she gave the two of them two house points each and spent the rest of the class describing to the other first year Gryffindors how much farther along Harry and Hermione were compared to them.

The last new class was Potions with Snape. It was a Double class, meaning that Gryffindor would be taking the class with the students of another house, and unfortunately - according to Ron that morning - they were going to be stuck with the Slytherins.

"Snape's a legend for how much he favors the Slytherins over everybody else all the time," Ron said as they headed down to the dungeons for class, "He's their Head of House, of course, but my brothers say he's always really unfair, besides being an all-around nasty bloke. Too bad McGonagall doesn't favor us, huh?"

"I guess," Harry replied.

Harry, unlike Ron, had already met Snape in person, and had her own ideas on how he worked. She was spared the ordeal of trying to explain this complexity to Ron when the mail came in the Great Hall.

Hogwarts made mail-time eerie and disturbing, especially for the muggle born and raised students. Whenever the sky was cloudy outside, the Great Hall's ceiling was also clouded, and then it looked like nature had gone berserk when it started raining owls of every shape, breed, and size from the heavens. But you got used to it.

Harry hadn't expected to get a single piece of mail - everyone else was getting letters and any items that had been forgotten, courtesy of their parents…pity she didn't have any of those - but right on the second or third day owls had started landing on her breakfast plate bearing gifts. Some were labeled, and came with notes thanking Harry over and over again for her 'heroic triumph over You-Know-Who', while others came with no names at all, apparently sent by Harry's more secretive admirers. And while most of the presents were small fruit baskets that sang, or little dancing chocolate boxes, there had also been the rainbow-spark-spitting hair-clips and the glow-in-the-dark earrings that were wand-activated…

Ron and any other male Gryffindor nearby gladly accepted the free food - Harry made a point to shove it their way as soon as she got it - while Lavender and Parvati were more than happy to give the girlish presents a good home. And if word got back to these people that Harley Potter didn't want their stupid presents, well, them getting mad and never bothering her again suited Harry just fine.

Today Harry got three singing fruit baskets - Ron didn't even bother to ask first anymore, he just reached over and yanked out the fruit, scattering the baskets over the table and ignoring their cries of distress - two boxes of chocolate - only one of which danced, but whether or not the other one was muggle candy made no difference to Seamus or Dean - and a tiny shiny chain-thing that Parvati identified as a silver choker necklace which, coincidentally, would be just perfect for her twin sister in Ravenclaw.

As usual, Hermione only looked up from re-reading her textbooks long enough to frown at Harry's treatment of her admirers' gifts, and whether or not anyone else in the Hall was taking note of this, Harry never bothered to turn around and find out.

Lastly came Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl and usually the only owl that ever came to Harry without any silly presents. Today, though, she was carrying Harry a letter. Harry let the owl sit on her shoulder and gave Hedwig some bacon to snack on as she read.

"Dear Harry," said the letter, "How about coming by my hut for a cup of tea today at four o'clock? I want to hear all about your first week at school. Send us back a reply with your owl. Sincerely Hagrid."

Borrowing a quill from Ron, Harry flipped the note over and scribbled "Yes, sure I can come, see you there Hagrid, signed Harry" on the back. Hedwig accepted some head-stroking and another side of the bacon, before winging off with the return letter for Hagrid.

It was a good thing Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because Potions turned out to be Harry's worst experience of the week.

In Diagon Alley, Harry had gotten the impression that Snape was not a friendly man, and at the Opening Feast, it had been clear that the Potions teacher disliked most, if not all, of the children he was supposed to be teaching. But by the end of her first class with the man, Harry was certain of at least one thing: Snape might seriously dislike just about everyone he saw, but he had a special level of distaste reserved just for Harley Potter.

When taking the first roll, Snape paused after Harry's name and snidely added, "Our newest celebrity," making the Slytherin side of the room burst into giggles.

As the roll continued onwards, Harry became uncomfortably aware that most of the Slytherins were openly staring at her. From most of the girls and some of the boys, these were all hostile glares, but a lot of the other boys were giving Harry serious appraising looks that made her feel even more uncomfortable. Draco Malfoy, the one Harry had been the most concerned about before class, was looking right at Snape, apparently utterly fascinated by the subject they would all be learning.

"There is to be no foolish wand-waving in this class. You are all here," Snape said as soon as he finished taking roll, "To learn the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. As it is, I don't expect many of you to understand anything in this class…most will not possess the required intelligence…the needed talent…"

Snape's voice was low, but the room was deathly quiet: Snape, like McGonagall, had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"But, to those lucky few…" Snape continued, "I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses…you can learn to brew Glory, bottle Fame, and even put a stopper on Death…if you aren't all as great a load of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Snape's eyes scanned the classroom, apparently looking for something…whether or not he found it, the next thing the professor said was "Ms. Potter!"

Harry sat up straighter in her seat.

"Ms. Potter, can you tell me what would happen if I mixed an infusion of wormwood with powdered root of asphodel?" Snape asked, his tone so bland it was practically mocking.

Hermione's hand shot towards the ceiling. Judging from that, and from Ron's mutter of 'what the bloody heck is wormwood?', this wasn't something most people knew about, and Harry had to shake her head and reply, "I don't know, sir."

"You don't know," Snape repeated, more openly mocking now, "Did the idea of opening a textbook fail to cross your mind, Ms. Potter?"

The Slytherins snickered, and Harry inwardly frowned. Of course she'd read through all her books at least once, but it wasn't like Harry had a photographic memory! Of the stuff from her books that had anything to do with potions, only a couple of the weirder-sounding words had really stuck in Harry's brain.

"Tell me, Ms. Potter," Snape continued, "Where should you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

And wouldn't you know it, but THAT was one of the weirder words Harry had actually managed to remember. To Harry's side, Hermione's hand was straining towards the ceiling, as she obviously knew the answer. But as Harry figured things, bezoar started with b, as in Billy goat, therefore…

"Inside the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry replied, trying to make her voice sound more confident than she really was at the moment.

It was more embarrassing to guess wrong than to not guess at all, after all, but judging from Snape's raised eyebrow and surprised expression, Harry had managed to get it right after all!

"And what does a bezoar do, Ms. Potter?" the Potions professor added.

"Err…it cures poison?" Harry offered - she could only remember that it was something with poison, so she had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right.

"Are you asking me the answer or telling it to me, Ms. Potter?" Snape replied, openly sneering at Harry now, while the Slytherins laughed a little louder and harder, "But perhaps we should try something a bit more easy for you…tell me, Ms. Potter, what are the differences between wolfsbane, aconite, and monkshood?"

Hermione was pushing her hand so high in the air that she had to stand up in order to keep it there, staring desperately at the teacher that refused to acknowledge her knowledge. Snape wasn't about to call on the other witch, though, and so Harry, drawing a complete blank, had to shake her head and say, "I don't know, sir."

"Obviously," Snape sneered, "It seems that fame must not be everything after all."

The Slytherin side laughed, while the Gryffindor side muttered angry things about Snape under their breaths.

"Put your hand down," Snape snapped at Hermione, who did so reluctantly, "And due to your abysmal lack of preparedness for this class, Ms. Potter, you have just lost a point for Gryffindor."

Before the outrage on the Gryffindor side could get any worse, Snape added, "And for your information, wormwood and asphodel combine to form a sedative so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, bezoars are used to cure the majority of all known poisons, and monkshood, wolfsbane, and aconite are all the exact same plant."

There was a moment of silence, broken when Snape snapped, "Well? Why aren't you writing this down?" at the class in general.

After hastily scribbling those random facts down, Snape made the class divide into pairs and set them to making a simple remedy for boils. While the students weighed nettles and crushed snake fangs, Snape wandered the rows supervising, alternating between making crushing remarks about the Gryffindors' potions and praising the Slytherins' potions far more than they deserved.

Snape seemed to favor Draco Malfoy especially, and was just in the middle of describing to the entire class the perfect way the blonde-haired boy was stewing his horned slugs when screams erupted from the Gryffindor side of the room.

Neville and Seamus' cauldron had gone through a meltdown and was now a twisted metal lump fused to the ground. As for their potion, it was spreading along the floor, making everyone else climb onto their stools for safety. Neville, who had been immediately soaked, was whimpering as angry boils sprouted all over his face and hands, and probably even more on parts of his body no one could see.

"Idiot boy!" Snape raged, whisking away the mess with a flick of his wand as he rushed over, "I suppose you forgot not to add the porcupine quills until after taking it off the fire?"

Snape ordered Seamus to take Neville to the Hospital Wing, then turned on the nearest pair of students - Ron and Harry.

"And why didn't you warn Longbottom not to make such an obvious mistake, Ms. Potter? Thought making him look bad would win you back your lost prestige? Now that's two points you've lost for Gryffindor."

And with that, class finally ended.

…