Sorry for the late update. I had a bit of trouble in writing this chapter; and I was caught up in the Agartha problem.

NO HATE PLEASE!

I didn't really see it as all that BAD, but it certainly was a bit confusing unless you have an understanding of symbolism and fear. I do like certain aspects of Agartha; but it was a major dislike. The only good part was Fergus and Laputa, as well as The Berserker of El Dorado and the reason for her madness.


Harry grunted as he awoke, groggy and confused as the hand on his shoulder stopped shaking him.

"Up," Arthur sighed, lightly slapping him on the back before getting his things out. "You need to get your timetable at breakfast."

"Uuugh," Harry moaned, he really couldn't function well in the morning.

It was funny how much he was like Ritsuka, yet totally different.

One instance, their reluctance to get out of bed in the morning.

"And get ready for your classes, it's the first of them today," Arthur reminded him.

"Nooo," Harry groaned once more, rolling over into a burrito and burying his head under his pillow. Arthur huffed and went to get Harry's things ready, the boy dragging his feet as long as possible to not go to class.

"If you decide to drag your feet and make a bad first impression then you are not going to get far in the mission," Lancelot reminded the boy as he moved him up to a sitting position. "Now up."

"Fine, fine," Harry grumbled as he took the neatly folded uniform from Bedivere and moving to the changing screen. "I still hate these damned things."

"Deal with it," Mordred huffed, leaning on his bed. "Your a wizard and you have to be here! It's 'required'," she scoffed.

"Screw requirements," Harry moaned out, tying the tie before heading out and moving to the door. "I need to talk to the Slytherins later."

"Look at the time table and then make your decision on who to approach first," Arthur reminded before patting his back.

"Honestly this house division thing only being forth problems," Harry heard Bedivere whisper as he left the room.


'He's not wrong," Harry mused as he walked down the stairs to the great hall, the whispers growing around him as people pointed toward his figure.

"Can't believe it!"

"Harry Potter a PUff?"

"Hat, had to have gotten it wrong!"

Harry ignored them and turned to the sound of Hermione approaching voice, no doubt talking or calming poor Neville as they made their way to breakfast.

"Come on Neville! Ditch the book worm," an annoying voice, one that held arrogance that held little good intentions, whined as Harry approached.

Neville was breathing heavily as Hermione squared off against another first year, from her own new house no less; but it didn't come as a surprise to Harry. The whole lot of Gryffindor barring hopefully the older twins, Neville and Hermione, seemed boarish and brutish and uncaring of the thoughts of others.

"Hermione," Harry called, keeping up his 'charming' persona. "I thought we agreed to walk to breakfast together?"

"Oh….uh...yeah," she caught on quickly. "I woke up late and had to yell at the others to wake up Neville."

"Yell," the redhead scoffed, other first years chuckling as well. "You screamed and hollered at us like a bloody banshee. Sure your a muggleborn?"

"Oi," one of the red haired twins yelled at the other. Related maybe? "The hell is wrong with you Ron? What possessed you to say that!"

"Come on Fred," Ron yelled. "You heard her! You have to-"

"Best keep that trap of yours shut Ron," the other twin warned. "Or we'll have to tell mommy dearest."

"You-"

"Really Weasley, you won't believe your own family," that voice had Harry smirking lightly. Draco appeared next to Harry, sneering at the Ron boy. "Pureblood families such as yours should know of the threat of brothers against brothers?"

"We don't follow those bigoted rule-"

"Ron, you best shut your trap," Fred sighed. "And try to not act like a Git!"

"I'm your brother," Ron whined, but people had already begun leaving; now tempted with food.

"Thanks," Hermione sighed, walking up to both Harry and Draco. "He's been harassing me and Nevill since last night. He's upset since we won't join his Anti-Slytherin campaign. Got even more upset when his brother, Fred and George decided to tell him off."

"Those twins are his brothers," Harry observed as they walked toward the Great hall.

"Yes and the Weaselys aren't the best in society…"

Harry sighed as he walked down the dull halls of Hogwarts, already missing the cool steel walls of his home and the warmth of the air conditioning. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he saw that most of his classes where a mix of all houses.

"Draco," Harry called, the boy with all the other Slytherins and they all jolted as he approached. "Thanks for the help again this morning. I'm a bit afraid that both Hermione and Neville are facing a war they cannot win."

"I thought all Gryffindpr's got along,' Pansy huffed.

"They would, if only they weren't all Anti-Slytherin idiots who can;t stand people having differing opinions."

"The youngest Weasley," Theodore Nott hummed.

"Yeah, seemed like it," Harry shrugged. "So, what do you know about McGonagall?"

"She's the head of Gryffindor and sees them as the golden standard," Daphne snorted, rolling her eyes as more students came toward the room.

"I doubt she considers Neville or Hermione in such regard at the moment," Harry sighed, thinking back on how cold the woman was toward her own students; and how off she was.

"It was strange," Pansy nodded her head.

"Hermione," Harry smiled, the girl waving before ripping her hand away from Ron who roughly grabbed it.

"Sod off," Hermione hissed as he tried to drag her toward the Gryffindor side of the room.

"He's with the Snakes 'Mione," Ron whispered. "You can't trust him."

"Hands off," she pushed him back and huffed. "And your not my friend. You made that quite clear, so leave me alone."

"My, my," Daphne mock gasped. "A pureblood forcing his views upon a new blood in the first ever class. How would society react?"

That stopped Ron as he went to grab her again before he grumbled and walked back to his goonies and Neville came up beside the girl.

"Thank you, Madam Greengrass," Neville inclined his head. "He's been giving us-"

"Absolute grief," Hermione huffed, pushing her hair back. "He won't shut up about how 'easily, the Hufflepuff Potter is being seduced' and all that other crap!"

"I like her," Blasie chuckled, Pansy looking in awe at Hermione's use of language.

"I'm merely a good judge of character," Harry chuckled. "I have to be when White Collar, Wall Street baddies are looking to use you to get to your guardian."

"That sucks," Hermione sniffed, shifting her book bag around.

"You too," Draco smiled, the other purebloods giving him sympathetic smiles.

"I deal with White Collars too," Hermione admitted, the others joining at the admission. "They want my parents to expand their practice and go from office to office to maximize profit; driving them up the wall."

"Oh?"

"Get into seats," Neville whispered. "Class starts in a minute!"

Looks like they have a lot more in common than Harry realized.


Transfiguration was alright, if you got rid of the fact that Ronald Weasley was loudly pushing Hermione down and tossing Neville around as the boy floundered to get the spell right. McGonagall seemed to want to do something, but as Harry observed she seemingly stopped and her eyes would go blank for a moment before going back to helping others.

Throughout the whole class that would happened even when other Gryffindor's would do the same. Whenever Harry made eye contact with the woman, he couldn't help but jolt at the sheer clearness of her eyes, yet the tightness of her skin.

Something was definitely wrong with the aged Professor.

"I don't know what is going on, but Snape is acting stranger than normal," Draco sighed as they left Transfiguration of Potions.

"I take it your family has a personal connection to Professor Snape," Harry inquired, keeping it light and airy.

"He;s my godfather," Draco admitted, a bit sheepish.

"Must be nice to have family friends that you can count on," Hermione sighed from Harry's right; the two groups still very much divided but held together by one thing. Harry.

"Oh?"

"White Collar," Hermione reminded them and the others flinched. "They can be even sneakier than a snake when they find something worth the trouble."

"Sorry," Pansy hesitantly spoke up, looking at Hermione with awkwardness. "That's not something a kid like us should go through."

"As an only child, I kinda had too. Especially since I'm the 'unlikeable bookworm'," she huffed.

"Ouch," Theodore flinched, a book still in hand. "That has got to hurt."

"I'm used to it," Hermione sighed. "I assume the rest of you had private tutors?"

"Yeah," they all sighed, Hermione chuckling at their resignation.

"You too Harry," Draco asked.

"I lived in a compound up north," he shrugged. "I mean, not like there was a public school I could go too in 13 inches of snow."

"You must be thick skinned then," Hermione attempted to joke, but t was so horrible they did end up laughing.

"I feel as if this is not going to be a good class," Harry sighed before entering.


Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Harry felt hs eyes twitch in annoyance, wanting to explain to the man that he had no interest in being a 'celebrity', for he had seen what that can do to a person. He has seen the devastation that it brings and he honestly could care less about titles and they could be shoved up someone ass for all her cared. But he kept silent and allowed the man to continue.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

At least the man was blunt, as horrible as it was. Perhaps being thick skinned will help out after all.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"You get the draught of living death sir," Harry answered, Hermione raising a brow at his cool indifference. "A sleeping potion so powerful, the person looks dead."

Snape's eyes looked like broken glass as he asked his next question. "Alright, Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"You will be able to find a bezoar within a goat's stomach. It is helpful in the fact it will save you from most poisons, with a few notable exceptions," Harry inclined his head, mulling over the questions. Something was off.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Nothing," Harry said, clarity rushing through him. "They are the same plant. Which also goes by the name of aconite….sir," Harry looked up into Snapes seemingly conflicted and broken eyes.

Ah, he'd seen those eyes before.

"Thank you."

Snape was silent before barking out orders to have everyone write down what he had spoken and set to writing what they would be making that day, Harry watching as he seemingly changed.

Before being taken over once more.


Harry was silent as he overlooked the field and great lake before him, high up in the castle and lost in thoughts.

"You have felt it too," Harry sighed as Tristan came up beside him.

"Yes," the archer sighed, coming up beside his charge. "Something is deeply wrong with this place. The house fights seemed to be instigated by something or another, but is is clearly tampering with the students minds."

"The house rivalries are covers for creating clear factions of black and white in the school," Harry sighed.

"And the teachers are merely either ignoring it, in on it, or being controlled," Tristan reminded. "But I cannot discern if it is one of the possibilities."

"Me either," Harry sighed, turning back to overlook the vast landscape before him. "It makes me wonder though...the few people not affected by the rivalries I have talked too...and those Weasley twins don't seem to care either."

"They must have either great willpower...or…" Tristan hummed, lamenting on the idea.

"What," Harry sighed.

"They simply have more pressing matters that befall them, or they could just not plain give a damn," he shrugged, turning to leave. "Those twins have dreams, ambitions and skill that is damn near impressive. You'd do well to get on their goodside."

"Hmm," Harry contemplated the thought until a pat on the back had hm whirling around so fast to kick at the person, until a yelp had him stopping.

"Woah! Sorry," Fred yelped as his brother fearfully hid behind him.

"No," Harry blanched, falling to the ground before hastily getting back up and bowing. "I'm sorry! I should have known that it was a fellow student! Forgive my rudeness!"

"Ah, no," George swallowed, coming out a bit from behind his brother. "We just...wanted to...ah...see if your bothered by what our Twat of our brother said."

"I...no," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "His meaningless words are such to me. Meaningless."

"Well, that's good," Fred sighed, a bit apprehensive but fine.

"Harry Potter," Harry held out his hand.

"Gred," Fred smiled.

"Forge," George grinned, looking like a mischievous elf.

These two were going to be a bit of trouble, but what's the fun in order and montomy.


Here you go! What do you think so far? What did you like!

Comment on what you like, on what you think will happen next.