Chapter 7: Classes Begin
Harry showed up with a few minutes to spare, and was the first to arrive as he walked into the empty potion's lab. He took a seat one row back to not appear overeager. The room was 'windowless potion lab in a dungeon' in a nutshell. With stone floors, and lab desks where he would be working with a partner. This not even mentioning the creepy potion ingredients stacked along the walls. A multitude of people arrived, none of which were his roommates.
After a scuffle, a brave redheaded Hufflepuff girl sat down next to him wordlessly, her fists were clenched in determination. Weird.
"You're not a Weasley, are you?" Harry asked with pretended seriousness.
"What?! No! I don't look anything like them!" Her eyes had panic in them. "You-you're messing with me aren't you…?" She relaxed and grimaced good-naturedly.
"You're not a ginge." Harry shrugged. "Why are you so tense? Did someone dare you to sit next to me?"
She chuckled. "Someone had to. You know it's weird to be alone on the first day, right?"
She didn't answer the question, but he wasn't one to pry.
"I'm weird," Harry declared as he pointed his thumb at to his chest. "And I arrived on time, unlike them."
The Hufflepuff girl paled, which was an accomplishment considering her skin tone. "Snape is NOT a teacher you want to get on the bad side of. My Aunt warned me, Severus Snape is difficult. At least we're not Gryffindors."
"I'm Harry Potter, what's your name Puff?"
"Oooh! I hate that nickname, watch it Potter. I'm Susan Bones."
Harry made a mental note, her Aunt should be Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE. Their conversation was interrupted when Professor Snape glided into the room. Professor Snape's robes flowed behind him; he was powerful. But the dungeon had done its work on the man. Greasy hair, coal-black eyes, and a perpetual sneer on his face. The sneer revealed slightly yellow crooked teeth. To some, these features would make them instantly dislike the man, to Harry it signaled a man who didn't give a crap what the world thought of him.
Snape went to the front and immediately took a roll call. Upon calling Susan Bones' name, his eyes narrowed when he saw where she was, but he kept going after a short pause. Finally, he got to Harry's name.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, the castle's new celebrity. So glad you've decided to join us," Snape said with sarcasm.
The professor was challenging him? Acting as if Harry would not appreciate the class before he even met him. Whatever preconceived notion the man was running on, Harry had to extinguish it, but the way Snape phrased it made it difficult. Snape was known to be difficult according to Susan. Harry knew how to deal with difficult people.
He merely nodded respectfully to the Professor, and kept his expression serious. If Professor Snape tried to make an issue out of his non-response, he could work with that. Snape chose to move on with the roll.
["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… "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."] (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone)
The class was as quiet as a crypt.
"Potter!" Snape spat towards Harry. "What similarity does the Wolfsbane Potion and Draught of Living Death have?"
"They both contain wolfsbane, and both share a wand movement set, though at different times in the process," Harry answered in a staccato-like fashion. Keeping his answer perfect. Not too ambiguous to cause problems, not filling in details to appear showing off. Wolfsbane was more commonly known as aconite, and was highly poisonous if not handled with care. Hence, the wand movement set was a precautionary measure in both potions. If he went to explain all of that, Professor Snape looked the type to rankle.
Snape stormed over to Harry and searched around him. Harry maintained a confused look as if he didn't know exactly what the Professor was doing. Like he needed to cheat! And how would he answer a sudden question like that? Was Snape delusional?
There was a creaking of the door opening, Harry's roommates had arrived at the worst moment possible.
"Think you can sneak into my class late on the first day?! I've already called roll! You are very lucky first-year students are given special leniency within the first week or I would FAIL you for the whole day. Ten points from Ravenclaw! EACH!"
"Sorry Professor, we needed to eat," complained Michael Corner.
"Likely story…" Snape glared at Harry and then looked back at the tardy Ravenclaw boys. "SIT DOWN! Where was I, yes… POTTER!"
"Yes sir?"
"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"Same plant sir," Harry answered. Snape looked over to the tardy Ravenclaw boys as he did so, they were too busy getting out their things to notice.
When it was clear nothing was amiss, Snape began to walk up and down the rows of desks.
"The instructions are on the board, get your ingredients, and begin!" Snape twisted around in a flow of robes.
# # #
Their potion was perfect. Susan made a good partner. Harry orchestrated the whole thing, with Susan able to do as he asked with precision. Snape didn't even look Harry in the eye when they handed it off. Harry stayed behind after class to have it out with his Professor.
"Can I help you, Mr. Potter?"
"Do you dislike me especially for some reason Professor?" asked Harry as carefully as he could.
"Maybe you're used to special treatment, but you won't get any from me! Move along."
"Professor, I really don't-"
"I said move along, you pompous child! Is your time more important than mine? Just like your father! Probably expected I would worship you like the others surely will!" Snape sneered.
Harry snorted. "I lived in a cupboard and ate scraps until a few months ago. It doesn't matter if you dislike me, I'll get what I need for myself," Harry twirled in his own dramatic fashion and left the classroom with his head held high.
# # #
The class after was charms, Harry wasn't sure what to expect. Snape had used so much class time watching him and nitpicking everything he did. He thought about what he could do to remedy the situation with Professor Snape, but came up short. Snape was a bully, no doubt about it. But Snape had also not crossed any line, or given any objective punishments for Harry to push back upon. The man was goading Harry, and Snape's appearance of a short temper was misleading.
Harry arrived before his Ravenclaw dorm mates once again, were they getting lost? He scanned the room, and saw Susan sitting with a friend, he decided not to bother her and took a seat towards the back in between two Hufflepuffs. The charms classroom was a stadium-style lecture hall, with large arched windows, high ceilings, and a small desk with a row of blackboards behind it. Professor Flitwick stood on a pile of books, beaming as he watched the children sit down. He coughed, and just as he did so, Harry's roommates sprinted into the classroom.
"Ah, lucky break boys, get to a seat please," Flitwick commented merrily.
As soon as Harry's roommates recovered their breath, Corner pointed at Harry and whispered in disbelief to his other roommates. They sat down on the other side of the room from Harry, it did not escape Professor Flitwick's notice, as he raised an eyebrow, but moved on to roll.
When he came across Harry's name, he also stopped as Snape had. The difference being the man could not contain his excitement, he squeaked and fell off his stack of books. The class laughed at his antics, which were obviously somewhat put on. When finished with roll, Flitwick started in on a lecture on magical theory.
Harry blinked. He knew all of it already! Instead of paying attention, he started reading his book of potion recipes, intent on putting it to memory. Classroom boredom was nothing to him, not after the relentless boredom of Privet Drive and the endless chores. At least potions jumped straight into the practical. He flipped through the pages quickly.
He began flipping through so quickly, that the students to his side looked at him wide-eyed and stopped paying attention to the lesson as well. If Harry could avoid Flitwick's notice, these other students could not.
"Is there something particularly fascinating about Mr. Potter Miss Perks?" Flitwick asked, his energetic style of lecture temporarily interrupted. He did not appear annoyed, but it was hard to tell with a jovial person like Flitwick.
The thin dirty-blonde girl to Harry's right blushed.
Harry did not want to be in the position of looking like a celebrity ass. Snape could not be proven right. He looked at the blackboard, there was a basic wand movement calculation. Charms didn't get too bogged down in the calculation of power. It was more about structuring intent with the shape of spells using wand angles. Flitwick was no doubt just surveying the field.
"It's my fault, Professor. I was wondering about the constant you used. I didn't want to interrupt your lecture, but it was different in a potion book I had. I wanted to check the recipe notes to be sure and I'm certain Sally-Anne was distracted by my page-turning. It's a further calculation there, and not a constant, right?"
It wasn't advanced, just obscure.
Professor Flitwick answered warily, "Correct. We normally avoid such calculation. Differences are almost imperceptibly small, more a subject for arithmancers and seers. Any wanded spell will be powerful enough to make the difference infinitely approach zero. Of course, materials in potions can sometimes react to this—I suspect we may have lost some people…" Flitwick grimaced at the blank looks around the class. "Curiosity is grand Mr. Potter, make sure in the future it does not detract from my lesson."
"Yes Professor."
The lesson not long after this turned to practical. Harry instantly did the wand lighting spell.
"Well done Harry! 30 points to Ravenclaw! I originally thought Ms. Granger would be the best in your year, I shouldn't have counted out my Ravenclaws!" he squealed with delight.
Towards the end of class time, everyone began to get the spell. Harry focused back on his book. He could read and memorize much more quickly when he didn't have to understand the concepts. Charms was only an hour where Potions had been over two since it was double. Very quickly, the time passed and it was lunchtime. Harry was looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts with Tracey.
"Mr. Potter, a word?" Professor Flitwick called out just before Harry made it out the door.
"Yes Professor?" Harry hoped this wasn't anything to do with Snape, or his attention in class, or the situation with his roommates.
"Is everything quite alright Harry? Rumors aren't much to go by, especially concerning yourself. Even still, I have heard troubling ones," Flitwick asked with a creased brow, "Your mother, she was one of my favorite pupils you know. Always wanted her for my house. Seems I got my wish in a roundabout way."
Harry didn't know how to respond. He didn't know his mother, never knew her. Only recently saw her face for the first time. As for the rumors, he couldn't guess or care.
"I'm fine Professor, is that all?"
Professor Flitwick took a deep breath. "It will have to do for now."
# # #
When Harry arrived at lunch, he spotted Tracey at the Slytherin table and Neville at the Gryffindor table. While he had decided to not care, he wondered which table he should go to first. The irony of choosing the scholarly route, only to be forced into a more difficult political situation was not lost on Harry. It was time to thread the needle. He would start with Slytherin since Neville was doing well and Harry had a class with the Slytherins right after. He was sure he had some political capital to burn with Neville and the Gryffindors-
No! He refused to think politically with his friends. Tracey was a newer friend, that was all!
Though Harry approached the Slytherin table under the radar, he suddenly felt many eyes on him. Judging him for where he was going. Very thankfully, Tracey was not very far into the long table. Rather unfortunately, when Harry got to be behind Tracey, most of the table turned towards him.
"What do you want, Potter?" a pug-nosed girl who was surrounded by the other girls spat out.
Harry smiled without blinking. "I want to sit with Tracey. I'm glad you remember my name. You are… Pansy Parkinson, yes? A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and to all of you who will return my courtesy." He bowed slightly and then sat in the empty seat next to his friend. "How was charms Trace?"
She pushed a lock of hair over her ear. "It was decent. I managed to get lumos to work for me like everyone else, I'd say I got it faster than half the class," she leaned in to whisper, "Neville struggled to get it until near the end."
"Lumos is only to have us access our magic. Whether you get it quickly is less important than the consistency." Harry waved his hands dismissively. It was true.
Tracey snorted and rolled her eyes. "Okay."
"Did you have twouble with your wand Potter?" Pansy interjected.
Harry shrugged. "Believe what you wish. I'm happy to learn magic at my own pace."
"You were totally meant for Slytherin Harry. Don't trust him," Tracey hit his arm. "Pansy, if you know what's good for you, you'll make nice," Tracey warned with narrowed eyes.
Harry made a plate for himself. The chicken legs were good, it was a bit heavy for his mood. Did they ever branch out? He wondered.
"I'm Daphne Greengrass." A blonde girl extended her hand in greeting across the table.
"Good to meet you, Daphne," Harry reassured in as formal and cordial a manner as he could manage. None of the other Slytherins greeted him positively in any way. Harry ate without concern.
When he had eaten his fill, Tracey ushered him away from the Great Hall and into a corridor feeding into it.
"Why do you hang out with them?" Harry asked as he was being pushed from behind.
"They're my friends! I know how Pansy can be, but she's still a friend. Do you think your Ravenclaw roomies would react half as positively?" she whispered in his ear.
"I didn't choose to eat lunch with them, did I? I mostly meant Pansy. Daphne seemed nice."
She stopped pushing him. "You don't understand girl friendships. It's a package deal. And unlike you, I am not keen to isolate myself from my own house Harry!"
Harry felt guilty. He had made his own choices; the consequences were his own to bear. He couldn't very well ask his friends to do the same. As he was thinking, Neville walked up to them with a hint of worry on his face.
"Did everything go alright? The Gryffindors were getting agitated that you went over to Slytherin. Someone suggested you were messing with them, and when nothing happened… The house may have turned on you." Neville panted.
"Is the house system so broken that I can't be friends with a Slytherin and a Gryffindor?" Harry put his head down in defeat. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with. He was a Ravenclaw, but his friendships would not come easily. Neville and Tracey patted Harry's back.
"It's all right mate," said Neville.
"You didn't think you could just waltz in and be friends, did you?" admonished Tracey.
"You waltzed in and we were friends!" Harry whined.
Tracey knocked him on the head. "It's different."
"Ow! And you didn't let me trick her either!"
"You're inviting conflict pretending that much!" said Tracey.
"What conflict? All we can cast is a light spell! Are they going to bother my eyes?"
"STOP!" Neville cut in, "Harry, take Tracey's lead at her table. Take m-mine at Gryffindor."
Both Tracey and Harry stopped being at each other's throats and looked curiously at Neville.
"Neville, is everything okay in Gryffindor?" Tracey asked with a brow furrowed in concern.
"They heard about how you were ultra-polite to Snape, and then you went to the Slytherin table… They feel betrayed. A kid named Ron Weasley even suggested you might have gone dark. HIS faction came from mostly Slytherin and then Ravenclaw after. When I defended you, they-they called me the next Sirius Black," Neville confessed.
Tracey gasped at the name.
Harry felt his stomach drop. He had reassured his friend that everything would work out. Neville was one of the nicest people he had ever met. Even still, he was dropped like a used tissue. It was scary how easily they did so. Everything since coming to this new world had proved the goblins prescient. They would throw him away just as easily were he inconvenient.
"How appropriate…" Harry said, running his hand through his hair. "Rockgrit was completely correct. DAMMIT! He's innocent. DAMMIT!" Harry pulled his hair in frustration.
"Please do not tell me you're saying Sirius Black, betrayer of your parents and MASS MURDERER is innocent Harry," Tracey pinched the bridge of her nose as if she had a headache.
# # #
DADA with Tracey went well enough. His roommates refused to speak with him, the Slytherins looked at him with hostility, and the lecture was unlistenable with all of the stammering by Professor Quirrell. They didn't get to a practical lesson, and Harry tuned out the lecture as he read his book. Quirrell was too nervous standing in front of a class to be a disciplinarian.
# # #
Neville and Harry had Herbology together, which actually went well. Since Neville was now being isolated by the Gryffindors, he and Neville were able to partner up with no difficulty. Neville was a genius with plants, probably the only subject he held a true interest in. Hermione Granger took over her group with poor Su Li, but when it came time for the practical, they didn't do so well. Su Li did not take well to being ordered around, and anytime Hermione pushed her out of the way to 'do it right' it always backfired on her. She was almost in tears by the end of class.
Harry and Neville both had extensive garden experience, they split the responsibilities evenly except where wizarding methods were necessary. Harry watched what Neville did in those cases. It went fantastically well. They finished the quickest, and the least soil-ridden. Professor Sprout gave points to Neville for his trimming ability.
When the lesson was finished, Neville had to head to his own DADA class. Tracey and Harry had a free period to do as they pleased. Harry was tempted to rush to the Headmaster's office and make demands to give Sirius a trial, but held back. Nothing had changed, only Harry's understanding of the Magical World. His fragile trust of Dumbledore had dropped to zero once again, how could such a smart man have trusted the court system to give a fair shake? When the people were like this!
Instead, Harry and Tracey made their way around the castle to explore. There were empty classrooms and abandoned hallways all over, and passages that seemed to teleport locations. Even with Harry's memory, he found himself getting dizzy with the odd passageways and moving stairs. While they walked around, Harry asked questions about Tracey's life before Hogwarts.
Tracey was a half-blood with two half-blood parents who had avoided the war, but openly supported the dark faction. Her father worked in the ministry, and her mother managed a small shop on Diagon Alley. She had no exposure to muggles, but insisted she had no bias against them. The line her parents took was much stronger in public than it was in private. Her friendship with Parkinson had grown out of relationships with the pureblood families that her father had developed in Slytherin. Parkinson's little crew was an extension of the political power her father wielded. Since the Parkinson's were friends of the family, Tracey could only go so far in rejecting them.