You're a protagonist Harry
Chapter 09 – Magical school is still school
…
It was strange, that's what it was. He'd known things would be strange, known it since Abner knocked down the door, known it since Ollivander sold him his wand, known it since the auditory bedlam that was the school song.
The ghosts that appeared afterward barely earned a batting of the eye. The warning of the forest that was 'forbidden' and the third-floor corridor that promised a painful death was practically mundane in comparison. And seriously, who did he think he was fooling telling them not to go there. It was like he didn't understand teenagers at all. But back on topic.
The Dursley's had been big eaters but the spread laid out before him, and this was just breakfast, would have made Petunia puke out of sheer envy.
"Ya know—I heard the—food here was—pretty good…"
Harry was thinking of puking for an entirely different reason. A quick look around the table revealed he wasn't the only one.
"Wanna leave a little for the rest of us," said Seamus who had the dubious fortune to be sitting across from the bottomless void.
"First come—first serve," the ginger garbage disposal said between a half dozen flapjacks vanishing down his gullet.
"I'm never eating again," Lavender whispered, her expression one of absolute horror, made worse by traitorous eyes that refused to look away.
"It's not physically possible," Hermione insisted, no less disgusted than anyone else, and as a reasonable, rational girl, demanded a certain level of consistency and logic that was simply not being met, "he shouldn't be able to hold that much food inside him. The laws of physics will not allow. How is he doing it?"
"Magic," Harry offered
One look told him this was not the correct answer, as well as several other things not to be repeated in front of small children and women who are nursing.
Harry just shrugged and went back to his own meal. Having watched Dudley and Vernon eat before provided some immunity from the sight of black hole Weasley. Enough that if he concentrated really hard, he could pretend it wasn't there and it was just him and Billy having a nice quiet breakfast together.
After being back in her cage between the train and his dorm, the first time she'd been in the cage since he'd gotten her, the griffinette had become very needy and clingy, staying close and on her best behavior at all times.
Smart creature she was, Harry suspected she felt like she'd been punished for something and was doing everything she could think of not to go back in the cage.
Harry of course had no intention of putting her back in the cage. His heart could only take so many plaintive cries and big-eyed stares before it went *pop*; something he was trying desperately to avoid.
"Class schedules," McGonagall announced brusquely as she marched the length of the table handing bits of parchment to everyone. "First years will note you have Transfiguration this morning, and I do not tolerate tardiness. It wouldn't be the first time I transfigured someone into a pocket watch."
Judging by the steely glare she leveled over the table, they had no reason to disbelieve her.
"I'm thinking we should not be late for that class," said Dean once McGonagall was gone.
"We shouldn't be late for any class," said Hermione, scowling when her housemates all rolled their eyes.
"What else we got today?" Serena chirped, looking over Lavender's shoulder rather than just reading her own.
"Charms and History of Magic… that's it," said Lavender.
"Light day," the bunny girl remarked.
"Same on Wednesday," the flower named girl observed. "We add Defense against the dark arts on Friday, also on Tuesday along with Herbology in the morning and after lunch, ew, Potions."
The entire table reechoed the sentiment, ew! With one exception.
"Aren't you all being a little unfair," Hermione insisted. "We haven't even had a single class with him yet. How do you know it's going to be so bad?"
"It's doubled up with Slytherin," said Lavender.
"He hates Gryffindor," reminded Ron.
Neither argument she found very convincing and she said as much.
"He's staring at us again," said Neville.
Glare would have been more appropriate. There was an intensity, a deep-seated loathing so perfectly expressed in his look it seemed unjust to call it mere 'stare'.
"I'll bet there's no silly wand waving in his class," Harry opined while resisting a powerful urge to glare back.
The truth of his words would not be tested till the following day, though sooner than anyone might have thought as their first day of class, Transfiguration, History and Charms, flew by in a blink.
One day, one sentence; poof, like magic.
"Man, can you believe this?"
"I'm looking at it, if that's what you mean."
"I think it's wonderful, and so well organized. It really was quite ingenious of Professor Flitwick to use a spreadsheet. I must ask him how he managed to get it on the parchment like this."
The two boys looked at the bush with the girl attached, expressing the same thought without having to say a word.
"I had a feeling, I really did," said Ron.
"What about?" Harry asked, like he didn't already know.
"This one," he replied, gesturing at the bush, "just had a feeling she'd be like this."
"You mean a go-getting teacher's pet?"
"Yeah, yeah something like that." The look he so discreetly threw her way suggesting he would have used different words were she not within earshot.
In all the time they'd spent under the watchful, baleful eye of Professor McGonagall that day, the only time they'd seen her reticent features display anything like a positive emotion was with Hermione. Hermione, who always had her hand up. Hermione, who was the first to turn her toothpick into a sowing needle. Hermione, who looked ready to clean her teachers boots with her tongue if ordered to do so.
Flitwick had been a different animal entirely, one of the roly poly kind that liked head pats. Their charms teacher, even when not high on spirits, proved a genial, easily excitable sort who seemed genuinely happy to be there. Comparing him to McGonagall was like comparing night and day. Sure, they both served their purpose, but the way they did it could not have been more different.
"This is a long list of spells," Harry mused.
"And this is just for this semester," Ron added.
"Isn't it exciting," Hermione bubbled.
In a sense it was. It was magic after all. That didn't make the two-foot spreadsheet any less intimidating.
"He doesn't expect us to memorize all these, does he?"
"ATTENTION! ATTENTION EVERYONE! HOUSE MEETING! EVERYONE TO THE FAMILY ROOM PLEASE! FIRST YEARS SIT TOWARD THE FRONT!"
"Family room?" Harry wondered as everyone began moving toward the source of the booming voice.
Ron just shrugged and Hermione gave no reaction at all, still deeply engrossed in her spreadsheet as she walked. It took the gentle nudging of both boys on either side to keep her from walking into anything while they all filed through a door at the far end of the common room.
It let out into a large round room rimmed halfway with simple bench seating, split down the middle by a walkway leading from the door to the floor where McGonagall currently stood with a pair of older students.
"Everyone in! Hurry along please," the severe woman said. "First years up front. This is mostly for you."
The sound of her new favorite teacher's voice finally prompted Hermione to put the spreadsheet down and wonder at where she was. "I didn't know this was here. Why didn't anyone tell us?"
Hurrying up to the front row, McGonagall gazed around the room with a look of pure iron. It wasn't so off putting now as it had been before since most had come to realize she wasn't actively upset about anything; this was just the way her face always looked.
"Is that everyone?"
"Yes Professor McGonagall," someone called from the back, followed by a shift of the air as the door slid shut.
"Good. It's nice to see you all. This is the Gryffindor family room. All house meetings are held here. It is also used for smaller gatherings such as the Sorcery lessons you will all be starting within a couple weeks, once we've measured your magic and established your element."
To the embarrassment of the boys on either side, Hermione's hand shot up and the whole room was subjected to the odd contortion of a face not meant to smile, making the effort, "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Professor McGonagall, I was just wondering. How often will we be having these lessons?"
"Sorcery lessons are twice a week, same time, same days for all houses so they will not interfere with your regular school activities. Speaking of which. In a few days, we will be having the Club Fair, where all the school's clubs will have the chance to show themselves off and attract new members.
"I must warn all first years, while you may have a lot of free time now, you will be adding between one and three electives next semester that will eat up a lot of that free time. Do keep that in mind when plotting your extracurriculars."
Once again, the hand was in the air and groans were stifled only because McGonagall was practically on top of them.
"What sort of 'clubs' does the school offer?"
"All manner of interests from the magical to the non-magical. Just to name a few, there is the chess club, the gob stones club, and of course the charms club, that was actually my club back in the day."
Smart remarks about dinosaurs and the age of dirt were stifled for later, when the dinosaur wouldn't be nearby to bite their heads off.
"All clubs cross house boundaries, so you may find members of any house in any club you wish to join. Keep that in mind, as there will be times when your club activities may reflect upon your house, and I trust all of you not to embarrass your house," she said with a very pointed look to the ginger duplicates feigning innocence in the back corner (yes, somehow they managed to find a corner in a round room, don't ask how).
"With that said, I will now hand you over to our fourth-year prefect and this year's Head girl, Cassidy Butcher. Cassidy," the old scot said with a nod before heading out the room.
"Well, that's the last time we'll see her in here this year, unless someone dies," the Head girl quipped, her male counterpart chuckling behind her.
"Is it really? I mean, dies!" Hermione asked, looking stricken and concerned.
"No, no, she'll be back tomorrow for the measuring," said Cassidy, to Hermione's relief, "then we won't see her in here again for the rest of the year."
"Unless someone dies," Harry reminded to a round of chuckles.
"You must understand," the male prefect said. "As much as we love and respect Professor McGonagall, she isn't just the transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor house. She's also the Deputy Headmistress, and that comes with considerable other work and no extra time in which to do it."
"Professor McGonagall is, without second, the busiest member of the staff. Even the headmaster isn't so involved in school business," said Cassidy.
"No, he has all that non-school related business," the boy said. "Supreme Mugwump, head of the Wizengamot and all that," he chuckled. "And let's not forget, advisor to the king. Where the man finds the time to sleep, I should love to know."
"That being the case," Cassidy jumped in. "Whenever possible, if any of you have a problem or concern, it would be best if you came to one of us first and we should be able to handle it."
"Yeah, you look like you can handle 'it'," Harry mumbled, but not quietly enough.
The older girl focused her full attention on him, a look of revelation briefly crossing her face, "Ah, The infamous Harry Potter."
"My reputation precedes me," he said with a grin, while cringing internally. "That gossip network does stretch far."
"Yes. You know some people were very excited when you got sorted into Gryffindor." The way she said it hinted she might not have been one of them. "Whatever would we do without you."
"Probably whatever you did before I got here… just a guess."
The rest of the house laughed at the byplay, but Cassidy wasn't laughing. Even the smile she wore seemed forced, hiding something a bit more predatory behind it. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was being expressed.
'I don't like you.'
Which was too bad really, she was rather cute.
"Are you seeing anyone by chance?" he wondered aloud, and the room roared in response.
But Cassidy didn't budge, except maybe a slight quirk at the edge of the lip. It wasn't a positive a quirk, and Harry realized too late, pushing her buttons might not be good for his health.