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ARMYstrongFANtom: The potions lesson was theory only hence "scratching of quill against parchment". The next one will be a full practical.

The pre-class anxiety Harry felt before the Charms class commenced ended after a few words from his professor. The tiny instructor had settled for a theory only class, and, consequently, the inevitable was delayed for at least another hour. Out of all of their teachers, Harry had to admit, Professor Flitwick was perhaps the most lenient. The actual lesson had lasted all of half an hour, and consisted of an oral quiz before the man left them to their devices, citing that the actual teaching would begin the next day. He might have imagined it, Harry thought, as he nodded to something Neville told him, but he was almost certain that the Professor was observing him, although he could discern no motive. After a moment, Harry dismissed the matter, and, instead, tuned in to the conversations of those around him.

It appeared that the potions master was the most popular topic of debate currently, as people speculated over his behaviour in the previous lesson. The general consensus was that the headmaster had warned him about his behaviour, and that was why his attitude had improved. Others still argued that it was all an elaborate ruse on the man's part, and that they should be extra wary of him. Others though, simply saw it as a reprieve, and hoped that the milder behaviour would continue.

"What I find most odd," Hermione stated, throwing her own two cents into the topic, "is the fact that he didn't give Slytherin any points. I mean, we all know that he favours the snakes even more than he hates us. It's weird he wouldn't reward them at all, even though the questions he gave them were far simpler than ours."

The witch's tone bore a hint of derision that Harry found bothersome. Indeed, he almost felt compelled to correct her, even though her summation was quite accurate. It simply did not sit well with him to hear someone disparaging Professor Snape. Nevertheless, he thought, looking about the room, it was actually oddly humorous to watch his fellow classmates come up with theories relating to the man's behaviour. They were quickly becoming ludicrous. The humour ended abruptly though when he realised that this was exactly what they had done to him the previous year. His mood considerably sobered, the Gryffindor fished out his Potions textbook and set about doing the required reading.

Eventually, the students grew bored of the topic and talk shifted to how their vacations had been spent. Regardless, Harry was certain that the matter would recapture their attention come the next potions class. In a way, he acknowledged as he followed the others out of the classroom, he would have been perplexed as well had he not spent the summer holidays with the man. His 'new' teaching method was familiar to him, although, he readily admitted, Professor Snape had been considerably nicer in their private lessons. His classmates would simply have to get used to it with time, he rationalised. He fully expected the man's 'improved' behaviour to continue. Harry knew enough about the man to understand that nothing he did was uncalculated. The altered teaching style was premeditated, and, although he did not know what had brought about a change from his normal behaviour, Harry was certain that the change was here to stay.

He entered the Transfigurations classroom, and, this time, hesitated only slightly before seating himself on Neville's right. He had been uncertain as to where to sit when he had reached the Charms room, among the last to arrive because of his conversation with the potions master. He had been prepared to head toward the back when Neville beckoned him over. This time, he felt confident enough to follow them without invitation, and claimed the seat. He ducked his head slightly when Neville gave him a smile that could only be considered an approving one before tensing slightly as he searched the classroom for their professor.

He had overhead a conversation between some older students once, and he knew that the witch always transfigured herself the first day of classes. Personally, he believed that it was her way of motivating her students to reach her level. Nevertheless, he had been both relieved and disappointed when they had not learned to transfigure themselves into cats. He doubted he would have managed it last year; however, it would have been nice to try it at least. Her disguise was not as blatant as a cat this time around, he noted, wondering if he should give up on the enterprise.

"Aren't you going to get your stuff, Harry?" Neville inquired, distracting him from his perusal. "You know how Professor McGonagall gets. . ."

"Y-yes," he responded quickly, doing as the blonde had suggested.

His lack of wand was not too blatant, he thought with relief, glancing at the other tables. After two non-practical classes thus far, most had thought it prudent to leave their wands in their bags. That would not last for long though. The students had been right, he noted moments later when the witch suddenly materialised in her seat. He was not positive she had actually been transfigured; nevertheless, the shock factor was quite impressive and all the grumbles from around the room abruptly ended.

The witch was a strict, no nonsense woman, and her class ran accordingly. It was as if she had sensed that the Charms Professor had given them an easy lesson, as by the end of the theoretical aspect of the lesson, they already had two chapters and a ten-inch essay to write. Harry found himself extremely grateful now that his guardians had given him a schedule during the holidays. Otherwise, he was certain that he would have been as panicked as the majority of the Gryffindors seemed to be at the task. Across the room, the Slytherins seemed nonchalant about the workload. But then again, he reminded himself, they always put on a 'public' persona, if the potions master was to be believed. Maybe they would grumble and sigh in the privacy of their quarters later on.

A moment later, Harry's contemplation on the Slytherins ended, and he felt as if butterflies were in his stomach. For his Head of House had said the words he had been dreading. They would start on the practical portion of the class now, which meant that all would see that he did not need a wand. He was not looking forward to this.

The headmaster had hugged him and reassured him that it would not be too difficult while the potions master had given him a five-minute lecture on how best to deal with the situation. However, as Harry looked down at the pincushion he was supposed to be transfiguring into a porcupine, none of their words registered to him. All that he could think of was that in a few short minutes, all eyes would be trained on him. There was no way of avoiding that. The Transfigurations teacher always drew attention to a student's work, either as an example for the rest of the class to avoid, or to point out something particularly innovative about their work. Somehow, Harry doubted that she would pass up the opportunity to single him out, if only to point out his technique.

"Where's your wand?" Neville whispered.

"It's home," Harry responded honestly, his eyes not lifting away from the pincushion before him. He hadn't really thought before speaking, and thus was startled by the horrified gasp the blonde emitted beside him. Luckily, he was not loud enough to draw attention from anyone besides Hermione, but to Harry, it was a sign of things to come.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking away from her own object. She was already done, and, while waiting for the Professor to reach their table, had taken to trying to animate the object based on what she had read during the holidays.

"Harry left his wand home," Neville told her.

"How could you be so careless?" she scolded, although her eyes bore a tinge of Neville's concern as well.

"I forgot mine as well," Neville interjected, "but Gran remembered to ask before we reached the station so we could go back for it."

"But still," the witch frowned, "that's very irresponsible Harry. You're going to get into so much trouble!"

The two were conversing too quickly for Harry to interject with the truth, but he wished that Neville had not noticed. Although whispering, their continued conversation was quickly becoming noticeable to the surrounding students; however, he was not too sure how best to point that out to them. As it turned out, he did not have to, for, being drawn by the chatter, Professor McGonagall bypassed a few tables to head in their direction, mistaking the nature of their conversation.

"What is going on here?" she asked sternly as she reached the edge of the desk while glancing to Harry's workstation.

A flicker of surprise crossed the teacher's face as she noticed Potter's untransfigured object. She had been certain that it was the cause of the disruption. "Why haven't you attempted the transfiguration yet, Mr. Potter?" she inquired, ignoring the other two students for the moment.

Harry stifled a groan as the woman's piercing gaze met his. If only they weren't so loud, he'd have had at least another few minutes before her attention had turned to him. As it was, the entire class was now looking toward their table with either sympathy or mirth for the students who would undoubtedly be receiving a sound scolding for daring to talk in the stern witch's classroom.

"I-I," Harry stammered, wringing his hands beneath his desk.

There really was no good explanation to offer, not that the witch was the kind to accept excuses in the first place.

"Harry's forgotten his wand, Professor," Hermione explained after a moment, when Harry seemed unable to continue.

While glad for the assistance, the twelve year old's heart fell slightly at her erroneous statement. The professor was bound to correct her.

"His wand?" Professor McGonagall repeated slowly, a look of confusion on her face.

"Yes, Pr-"

"Mr. Potter no longer requires a wand," she informed Hermione, and Harry barely resisted a cringe at the sudden silence that befell the room. "Why should it matter where he's left it?" she continued rhetorically. "However, that does not answer my initial question, Mr. Potter, why have you not attempted the transfiguration?"

Harry was unable to keep the woman's gaze, and looked down toward the table. "M'sorry," he mumbled.

"You will attempt the spell now, Mr. Potter," the witch informed him, and, after he made no move after a moment, her ruler cracked down on the edge of the desk, startling not only him but a few others. "I will have none of this, Mr. Potter," she warned.

Harry honestly did not know what to do. This situation was more than he expected. All eyes were trained on him; he did not need to glance around to see that. What if he failed to transfigure it because of nervousness? He'd become the laughing stock of the school because the class would definitely relate the story to the rest of the school...

The twelve year old blinked as a leg nudged his slightly, and, glancing sideways, he saw Neville looking at him. Well, that was not entirely unexpected given the situation, but rather than wearing a curious expression, the blonde was offering him a reassuring smile, and, when he met his gaze, nodded slightly. For some reason that gesture did reassure him, and, smiling slightly, Harry straightened, looking at the pincushion. His hand trembled slightly as he raised it, but steadied after a moment. This was no different from what he had been doing all of his life. He could do this.

Taking a moment to visualize a porcupine, Harry waved his hand over the pincushion. For a second nothing happen, and then, shimmering, the object's shape changed until a stuffed porcupine sat before him. Surprised gasps echoed around the classroom, and Hermione actually squeaked. Nevertheless, Harry sighed with relief – he had done it. Professor McGonagall refrained from comment, but instead lifted the item, checking his accuracy. Neville nudged him again, this time mouthing "Good job". He didn't seem particularly surprised Harry noted, but the professor interrupted further thought.

"The needles aren't the right size," she commented, replacing it, "but for a first effort, it is commendable."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Perhaps you should try with the incantation," she said further, "or try mimicking the wand movements."

"My guardians said I don't need to."

"Well, I suppose they would know," she muttered softly, before turning away and glaring at the students who had actually left their seats to see Harry's work.

"Why, I never!" she scolded. "Back to your seats this instant before I take points. Really, you should know better than this..."

The rest of the woman's words were lost to Harry, but the sudden outbreak of whispers reached him. He really was not looking forward to class ending. Something told him that people would try to accost him for more information.

Beside him, a glint of determination shone in Neville's eyes. He had reached the same conclusion as the shy Gryffindor, but he was determined not to let that happen.

oOoOoO

"I wish they'd find something else to talk about," Pomona frowned, stirring her tea absently. "All I've heard of this evening was Potter this and Potter that."

"Children gossip," Minerva responded, looking up from her Daily Prophet. "It can't be helped."

"It isn't right though," she countered mildly. "Potter didn't look up once this afternoon in the greenhouse and I had to scold my Hufflepuffs after class for paying more attention to him than me."

"It's not like they've had much experience with it," Flitwick said presently, easily falling into the conversation. "Very few manage wandless magic and even then it's usually older wizards who've developed the capacity for it. I don't know many who have been exposed to it, and, although I hate to admit it, given Mr. Potter's behaviour last year, did you really expect this to go unnoticed?"

"He has brought it on himself," the Herbology teacher allowed before raising a quieting hand when Minerva looked to protest her statement. "I don't blame him for his behaviour," she explained. "However, you must admit that his personality is what has encouraged the gossip around him. Potter has always failed to reach the students' expectations.

"Remember, this lot has grown up to stories of him and his glorious actions; he broke their preconceived notions of him last year, and they ripped him apart accordingly. Now this year he returns and 'suddenly' has this skill and flips their perception of him once again. They don't know what to make of him now. Was his shyness just a front? Did he get some sort of elitist training to give him the ability? Until they get the answers they want, the gossip will continue. It's up to Potter to handle it as he will."

A long pause finished after the woman's words as they all reflected on it, taking the truth in it.

"Nevertheless," Filius said eventually. "Something must be done about it. I do agree that children should be allowed to sort out their own issues. However, Potter is at a disadvantage. One child can do little against the entire student body."

"He needs to grow a backbone, that's what," Minerva said decisively, setting aside the newspaper. "He's given them power over him, and until he chooses to take that power back, he will remain at their mercy. There is nothing we can do about it. It is not as if he is being actively insulted. Life is harsh, it's unfortunate that he's had to learn this from so young, but as is, that is the case."

"That's a hard stance to take, Minerva," Pomona stated mildly. "He is your student."

The Transfiguration Professor snorted lightly. "I honestly question whether that Hat made the right decision," she admitted, "and not only with Potter. Granger and Longbottom puzzle me at times as well. Granger is the ideal Ravenclaw and Longbottom . . . Pomona surely you agree that the boy should have been yours?"

"Numerous times," she agreed, while across from her, Filius nodded as well.

"I question the placing of others as well," she continued. "There is Slytherin's Zabini. He is much better suited for Ravenclaw in my summation, and Terry Boot would have fit perfectly in Gryffindor."

"The Hat does as it sees best," Filius stated, summoning himself a muffin from the nearby tray. "Regardless, what can be done for Potter? I have something in mind from my end, however, I want to observe him first for a bit longer."

Pomona eyed him curiously for a moment before speaking. "I do agree with Minerva that there is nothing active we can do. The novelty will wear off in a few days. Let's just hope that Potter doesn't discover some other talent to draw attention to himself once again."

"I've always taken a hands-off approach with my students," Minerva declared. "And I see no reason to do otherwise with this situation. Students are expected to have a certain level of maturity when they arrive here, and that implies that they handle their own personal issues. And let's not forget that Albus has taken in Potter. . . ."

"Sounds as if you have a problem with that," Filius gently prodded.

"I do," she admitted slowly. "A headmaster taking guardianship of a student . . . it's just not done. I am sure he could have found him a new home, but instead he takes him."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"Morally there is," she frowned. "What happens when word gets out to the public? Many a student will cry favouritism, mark my words. The number of rules Albus has already broken. . . ."

"Oh?"

"The boy's to live with him on weekends, and Severus has him on Wednesdays. Severus. How in Merlin's name did that happen? The latter I have just been informed of. The rules clearly state that students must live in the dormitories. The only exceptions are married students and thank Merlin there have not been any of those for the last twenty odd years. It is only a matter of time before one of my students start questioning his absence from the dorms. What position will that put me in?"

"You can't exactly blame Albus," Filius replied eventually, his features drawing slightly as his mind flashed to the past.

Minerva sighed deeply. "I know," she said in a slightly weary voice. "Nevertheless, rules exist for a reason."

"I understand," Pomona nodded, "but this entire situation is complicated."

"Too complicated," Minerva corrected, reaching for the teapot. "And something tells me things will just get worst before they improve."

"Filius?" Pomona inquired a minute later, looking toward the suddenly quiet man. He was thinking, she knew. He always got that slightly far away look in his eyes when deep in thought, and his fingers drummed softly as they were doing now.

"Minerva," he said slowly, turning toward her with a thoughtful gaze. "I think you're making the same error I have."

"Error?" she repeated blankly.

"Yes. You're putting the blame entirely on Potter for the students' reaction to him."

"I am," she confirmed. "If only he'd act differe – "

"How?" he interrupted. "How exactly can you, can we expect him to act differently given the circumstances?"

"Filius-"

"Let me explain," he bid. "You have a muggle raised child entering Hogwarts, a famous one at that. Said child, while intelligent, struggles in classes because we didn't think to check his magical capabilities. He-"

"Now that isn't fair!" Minerva declared. "How were we to know?"

"You of all people should have realized," he said. "He, after all, is your student."

"I've already said-"

"That you take a hands-off approach. I get that, Minerva, and I'm not condemning you for it."

"Then what is your point?"

"My point is that you should have met with him, inquire to his issues..."

"How was I supposed to know that he didn't need a wand? I thought, we all thought that he wasn't capable of magic. I recall you calling him a near squib once."

"I did," the Charms Professor acknowledged. "It is something I regret."

"Then don't put the blame on me for this! How was I supposed to know? He didn't come to me for help. He should have said something."

"You're contradicting yourself," a previously silent Pomona stated. "How can you expect him to come to you when you've already admitted to not being there for your lions? It doesn't make you exactly accessible to him now does it?"

"Thank you, Pomona," Filius said gratefully. "I don't know why Potter never told any of his teachers about his wandless abilities, but we should have suspected at the very least."

"You do have a point," the Herbology Professor agreed. "However, Minerva does have one as well. Yes, we should have looked further into it, but he should have said something as well. Can we simply agree to that? Talking about the past does nothing to change it. We can only learn from our errors and move on."

"Ever the peace maker," Filius chuckled ruefully, even as he nodded.

Across from him, Minerva nodded reluctantly, although it was clear to all that what her colleagues had said did not please her.

"So tell me," Pomona bid, determined to change the conversation to more pleasant matters, "what is the consensus with the new students?"

Gratefully the other two latched on to the topic and the conversation surrounding Harry Potter was closed – for now.