Disclaimer: All characters, events, and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, respectively, everything else is my own invention.

The Potter Timeline

Year 1 Episode 4 - What Friends Are For, Part 1

"Ready Harry?"

The eleven-year-old threw a nervous look at his team captain. The boy sat atop his broomstick, the same one he used to retrieve Neville's Remembrall, while hovering two feet above the grass field inside Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. It was his first try-out as the new Gryffindor Seeker. And instead of a group of first-years, his audience was the Gryffindor team itself: Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Fred and George Weasley, and their intrepid captain, Oliver Wood. Harry's heart was pounding.

The weather was cool and cloudy on this early September day, wispy wind blowing every direction as the Gryffindors' first practice of the term got underway. And today's focus was their newest member: The Youngest Seeker in a Century, Harry Potter.

Wood first explained the game to Harry and showed him the various implements: the Quaffle, the Bludgers, Fred and George's Beater clubs, then finally, the Golden Snitch. The six current team members then performed a brief demonstration with Katie acting as the opposing team's Chaser. Afterwards, Wood went over the Seeker position. But the more Harry learned about his role in the game, the more nervous he became.

Chase after a tiny gold ball with wings at eighty kilometers per hour…try to catch the sneaky bugger before the other Seeker does…dodge players on both sides as well as two, super-fast, deadly balls flying from random directions…and, as Fred and George so deftly added, try not to get injured or killed in the process…

'Youngest Seeker in a Century. Right. No pressure,' Harry thought with a gulp as all this was being explained to him.

Harry mounted his broom with trepidation and yet determination, eager to see what this Seeker business was all about.

"…Ready," he told Wood with a nod, wondering if he actually was.

The captain raised his hand and the Golden Snitch between his fingers extended it's feathery-looking wings, fluttering like a hummingbird. Oliver then released the Snitch and it shot across the pitch.

Harry immediately honed in on the now gold speck, and before he knew it, his broom oriented toward it and took off. Harry nearly lost his grip at the instant burst of speed but managed to grasp the handle tightly before he could be flung off. The boy soared across the field, his robe flapping violently behind him as his already messy hair blew around his head. His adrenaline kicked in and Harry smiled, reveling once more at the joy of flight.

The Snitch banked left and followed the oval shape of the stadium. Careful to keep his eye on it, Harry leaned close and felt the broom turn gracefully while following the Snitch's lead. This went on for a few moments until the golden ball suddenly shot up into the air. Harry looked up and almost smashed his nose on the handle as the broom jerked in the direction of Harry's gaze.

30 meters.

60 meters.

100 meters…

The Snitch then planed out before dropping back toward the pitch floor. Harry gasped as his broom stood nearly vertical in the air and shot downward to follow it. If the boy had not been gripping the handle for dear life, he might have lost that life in free fall. But free falling on the broom wasn't any less scary. Plunging toward the ground at high speed caused the kid to nearly faint.

But eventually, the Snitch stopped descending and resumed its flight around the oval pitch some thirty feet in the air. Harry leveled his broom in pursuit. After the second turn at the tip of the oval, the golden ball took off even faster. Harry was astonished. But he never kept his eye from it and leaned close to the handle, the broom responding with its own extra burst of speed. Straight ahead, Harry saw the Snitch completely stop and hover in the air, its little wings still flapping.

As Harry and his broom approached, the ball still did not move. The boy was puzzled. But when he was within 30 meters of the prize, Harry let go with his right hand and reached out to snatch the Snitch out of the air.

20 meters.

15 meters.

10, 5...

Harry was nearly on top of the Snitch and about to grab it when the gold object shot to Harry's right. Out of sheer instinct, the boy turned his gaze to follow it. When he did, his broom spun ninety degrees in midair to reorient itself. Harry lost his grip and found himself sailing through the air…without a broom!

Stunned and terrified, only one thought came to Harry's mind while hurtling through empty space: Monday's Flying Broomstick Lesson. But Harry was flying higher and faster than Neville when that poor kid was yanked off his broom. Realizing he would most likely break more than his hand, Harry shut his eyes tight and braced for a painful impact.

But the impact never came.

Instead, he felt a warm cushion of air surround his body. Opening his eyes in surprise, the boy now saw that he was still moving through the air, but his speed had slowed and was continuing to do so until finally stopping. Looking down, Harry found himself hovering some five meters above the ground. He then slowly descended until gently resting in the grass. The warm cushion disappeared and the cool air of the pitch once more enveloped him. Confused, he looked back at the middle of the field.

The six Gryffindors were still standing there, watching him. Wood had his wand pointed at Harry, and after seeing the boy to the ground, lowered the wand and put it back in his pocket. The six then walked to their new Seeker.

"Alright there, Harry?" Oliver asked him with a simple grin, reaching down to help him up.

Wide-eyed and breathing hard, Harry glanced at the group who seemed amused.

"I'm fine…I guess. What happened?"

"You lost control of your broom."

Harry looked over to see the broom still hovering thirty feet in the air and still pointed in the direction it turned when he was last on it, as though waiting for him to hop back on and resume the chase. His cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. The team chuckled at Harry's flustered look. Fred placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't fret over it, Harry. We've all done it one time or another."

"Yeah," George chimed in, "nearly broke my head on one of the hoops the first time I flew."

Wood looked at his team and back to Harry.

"Overall, you did well. Professor McGonagall was right - you have a knack for it. But as you can see, being a Seeker isn't easy. You still need training and practice - learning how to bank a turn, control your approach angles, steer your broom with finesse, things like that. Fortunately, these are things we can teach you. And don't worry, Gryffindor's first match isn't for another couple of months, so if you can train with us three days a week until then, you should be good to go. As for your broom…"

At this, Oliver turned to look at the broom sitting still in the air.

"Standard Issue school brooms aren't really designed for Quidditch. So, I'll talk to Professor McGonagall to see what we can do about that. Any questions?"

Harry shook his head. He already had so much to take in it was dizzying.

"Great! Welcome to the team, Harry! We look forward to playing with you," Wood finished with a slap on the kid's back.

"Thanks," the kid replied.

"Good job, Harry! Impressive," Angelina told him with a smile.

"Very nice for your first time!" Alicia added.

"You'll do well, Harry. We're sure of it," Katie threw in.

The boy again blushed.

George stepped over and guided him forward.

"Come on. We'll walk with you back to the castle," he stated. The twins and Harry bid goodbye to their team members and left the pitch.

~HP~

After dinner in the Great Hall, Harry walked the steps toward Gryffindor Tower by himself as the twins claimed to have a "prior engagement" elsewhere. But he had the sneaking suspicion that the "engagement" was something up to no good. Harry was exhausted anyway. After a day's worth of classes and then the shellshock of his first Quidditch practice - which nearly landed him in the hospital wing - the eleven-year-old was ready to crash into bed.

"Caput Draconis," Harry uttered to the Fat Lady who was annoyed at having to stop her flower arranging to let a mere first-year inside.

"I'm busy, can't you see?" she complained to the boy.

Harry cleared his throat rather loudly. The woman threw him an ugly look.

"Oh, go on then!" she muttered as the portrait finally swung open. Harry shook his head and stepped into the common room.

The atmosphere at this time of the evening was cosy. A crackling fire in the fireplace lit the room in warm colors, adding to the yellow glow of candelabra light overhead. Several Gryffindors quietly read in a few of the plush armchairs, the Patil twins were studying at the large round table, and in the far corner, Harry saw his dorm mates, Dean, Neville, and Seamus, laughing themselves silly. Smiling, he walked over to see what the fuss was about.

"Hey, guys," he stated.

The three turned to see Harry standing before them.

"Oh, hey, Harry," Dean replied.

"Hi, Harry," Seamus added.

Neville looked at Harry and gulped for some strange reason.

"What are you three up to?" Harry asked pleasantly.

The boys glanced at each other as though Harry was an adult scolding them for doing something wrong. He didn't understand this.

"Oh…we're just…reading the latest edition Funnies, Adventures of Edel the House Elf," Seamus informed the boy while pointing at a newspaper laid out on the small table before them.

"Can I see?" Harry asked while leaning in to look. He'd never seen a wizarding paper before.

The three glanced at one another wide-eyed. This again confused the eleven-year-old.

"Sure, Harry. I…need to hit the sack tonight, guys. See you tomorrow," Dean uttered while standing, "goodnight, Harry."

The boy headed for the stairs as though he would get in trouble if he lingered.

"Yeah, me, too. I need to look over me homework before McGonagall's class tomorrow," Seamus said while rising, throwing a smile at Harry, "you can keep the paper, if you'd like."

The boy left. Harry looked at Neville, who seemed embarrassed.

"How's your hand, Neville?"

Neville's eyes grew large, and he strangely tried to avoid Harry's gaze.

"It's…much better. Thanks. Madam Pomfrey said it should completely heal in another day or two," the boy managed to eke out nervously as he stood from his chair, "I need to go send an owl to my gran. See you later…Harry."

Harry's face contorted in puzzlement.

"Goodnight."

Neville nodded and hurriedly left. Harry was perplexed.

For the last two days, Harry's classmates seemed to be avoiding him for some reason. They might utter a polite "hi" or "hello". But if Harry tried to join in a conversation or speak more than two words to someone, he received the oddest looks and sometimes downright fright from some students - like Neville. He didn't understand it. Harry hoped to make friends while at school and though he didn't expect instant friendships, it seemed impossible to do so if people avoided him.

What was he doing wrong?

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry returned to the edition of the Daily Prophet the boys had left. The Funny they were laughing over was in the wizarding paper's cartoon section. Anytime Uncle Vernon brought home a copy of The Times, Harry enjoyed viewing the comics in it, if Dudley didn't snatch the paper from him first. But in the wizarding paper, the characters moved about like cartoons Harry once saw on the Telly. For a couple of minutes, he watched the little house elf get into one humorous predicament after another. Then Harry found himself tired. He was about to fold the paper up, deciding to look at it in the morning. But catching a glimpse of the front-page article, he did a double-take.

Gringott's Break-In Investigation Still Ongoing

The moving picture under the headline showed several goblins in an empty vault: one examining the walls, one measuring the doorway, and one had its ear to the floor. When Harry saw the vault number above the doorway, number 713, his eyes went wide.

That was the vault Hagrid retrieved the small package from during their visit to the bank!

Briefly perusing the article, Harry was surprised to learn that the apparent break-in had occurred on his birthday, July 31st - the same day Hagrid took him to Gringott's! This was very curious. What was the object Hagrid took and why would any wizard or witch risk their life trying to steal it? And why would Professor Dumbledore have Hagrid bring that object to Hogwarts? But Harry was too tired to think about it. Maybe he would visit Hagrid and ask him when he had the chance. He rolled up the paper and headed upstairs to his dorm.

After such a wearying day, Harry changed into his pajamas, stepped over to his four-poster, and crawled into bed. Images of the flying Snitch flew around his dizzied mind until he fell asleep.

~HP~

Harry sat up in bed with a start. Eyes wide in shock, he winced at the screeching noise coming from everywhere. The boy glanced around trying to find the source of the irritating sound. He then realized it was the waking charm Hermione taught him to use on his bed.

'She calls that a whistle?' Harry thought at the piercing sound ringing in his ears.

After a few moments, the noise ceased, and he felt relief. But no sooner had the sound stopped, than the mattress begin rumbling underneath him. At first, he was confused. Then, remembering what Hermione told him, Harry quickly reacted.

"I'M UP!"

The bed stopped shaking. Harry again felt relief. If he had uttered the words a tad later, he might have found himself on the floor.

Somewhat groggy, he got up, changed into his school uniform, grabbed his class materials, and headed for the door. The other four occupants of the dorm were still sleeping, Seamus snoring peacefully as usual. When Harry reached the common room, a few fourth-year girls sat at the round table going over notes for an exam.

"Hi," Harry spoke to the four with a smile.

Only one of the four briefly smiled back at Harry. The others looked at him curiously but said nothing. The kid was puzzled. In the main corridor, Harry passed two, first-year Ravenclaw students on his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He smiled at them as well. The pair of boys, who had been engrossed in a cheerful conversation, suddenly quieted when they saw Harry and moved against the wall to avoid him. This made no sense.

When he entered the Hall, the four House tables were sparsely populated for breakfast at this early hour and only a few professors sat at the high table. Harry headed toward the Gryffindor table, thinking about what he'd like to eat.

"There you are!" a familiar voice chimed at him.

Harry looked down to see Hermione at the table, her once full plate completely clean and various textbooks and parchments scattered around her as though she was attempting to transform the Great Hall into a library. Harry wondered how she managed to carry all that.

"Hi," he told her while sitting down on the opposite side of her books.

"I see the waking charm worked," she uttered.

"Yeah...about that. Is there a way to modify the charm so the noise isn't so…irritating?"

"Well, if the sound was pleasant, it probably wouldn't wake you up, now would it?" she said matter of factly.

Harry frowned.

"I guess not."

Hermione suddenly seemed deep in thought about something and went back to her writing. Harry turned to the empty plate in front of him and thought about what he wanted to eat. An instant later, a couple of flapjacks, some eggs, and a few bangers appeared on the plate complete with a mini cauldron of hot syrup and a hovering saucer of butter. Harry tucked in, realizing how famished he was. But he wouldn't get three bites in his mouth before being interrupted.

"How did your practice go, yesterday?" Hermione asked. Harry swallowed a morsel of food.

"…Fine. But I have a lot of training to do," he replied, remembering Wood's comments about what he had to learn.

"I should have warned you about that, Harry," she said while turning to look at him, "Quidditch is both difficult and dangerous. But I'm sure you realize that now."

"I do, actually," he stated, remembering being flung from his broom. He shook the thought out of his mind and resumed his meal.

"Well," Hermione now said while turning to her books, "I have something that might help you."

Hermione was always trying to help him. Harry sincerely appreciated her willingness to take him under her wings, as it were. But just after four days, it was becoming a bit much. The boy felt he could learn a lot by himself. After all, he had done just that for eleven years with the Dursleys. But how could he tell Hermione this without hurting her feelings? She seemed so…enlivened to find a fellow student to whom she could relay her knowledge with such enthusiasm. And Harry was too polite to refuse her, putting up with her ranting about this or that fact nearly every chance she got. But when he saw the title on the book she laid down next to him, his thought that she was doing too much quickly evaporated.

Quidditch Through the Ages

Harry's eyes went wide, and he immediately stopped eating. He picked up the green covered book and started flipping through it.

"Wow, Hermione. This is great!"

The girl beamed at him.

"I thought you'd like it. I actually bought it for myself at Flourish and Blotts, hoping it would help when we started our flying broomstick lessons. I even coached Neville from it before the class. But you saw how that turned out."

Harry smiled while gazing over intricate illustrations on how to care for your broomstick, techniques on flying, a seemingly endless list of fouls one might make during a game, as well as a plethora of historical facts.

"Thank you," he told her red-faced.

She beamed at him again and returned to her work. Harry returned to his food.

After a while, more students poured into the Hall for breakfast. A group of first-years making a lot of noise walked in and moved to the Hufflepuff table. It was the redhead kid Ronald Weasley, his pal Sean, and several others who Harry noticed had formed a gang of friends during the course of their first week at the school. Ron was joking about Professor Quirrell's stutter and even imitating him to the laughter of his Hufflepuff buddies.

"Honestly, I don't see how they let that man into the school. He's a joke, I tell you."

Harry watched the kids sit down and eat while going on pleasantly about this, that, or the other in the wizarding world. The boy with the lightning shaped scar frowned. The Weasley kid seemed to make friends easily and reveled in the attention. Harry envied him. Not even Dean, Neville, and Seamus were that friendly with Harry.

"Well, we should probably go," Hermione suddenly spoke, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "Transfiguration starts in fifteen minutes."

Harry frowned at this too. Ron Weasley seemed to have found a best mate in Sean McManus and Harry was stuck with…her. Nevertheless, the boy rose from his seat and looked at the grand mess of books and parchments strewn around the girl.

"How are you going to get all that to class?" he asked with incredulity. Hermione looked at him as though it was perfectly obvious, stood, pulled her wand, and pointed it at the mess.

"Reducio!"

With a brief spark of light from her wand, the stash of textbooks and materials suddenly shrank into a compact form Hermione then picked up with one hand and placed into her school satchel. Harry was amazed. Of all the students he had met at Hogwarts, no one could beat Hermione at both her knowledge of spells and using them so successfully - in just their first week at that! It was no surprise she did so well in their classes.

"Ready?' she asked Harry with a pleasant look.

He nodded at her, still wide-eyed at her casting ability. The pair left the noisy Great Hall behind.

Their classwork that day was grueling, at least to Harry. Attempting to transform a live beetle into a clothes button in McGonagall's class proved tricky as Harry's beetle kept scurrying away from him onto the floor. And grinding root of Wolfsbane into the correct powder consistency in Snape's class was also an ordeal as harry's particular root wasn't dried out enough. But that didn't stop the professor from berating him over his "poor" potion making ability. Flitwick's class was better as Harry managed to successfully move a small goblet in any direction he chose, with coaching from Hermione, of course. Professor Filius gave each of them 5 points to Gryffindor for their success as the rest of the class struggled with the task.

The rest of the day was filled with lectures and note-taking on everything from unusual uses of Stinging Nettle to the development of Ministry policies during the 20th Century to ten ways on how to distinguish a dark wizard or witch from one who was simply trying to improve their magical abilities. By the end, Harry was exhausted. And he had a headful of extra knowledge from each class courtesy of Hermione who seemed a step ahead of everyone else.

The pair finished the evening with a meal in the Hall and a study session in the Gryffindor common room where Hermione checked over Harry's homework in each of his classes. He didn't ask her to do this - she volunteered as it seemed she was as concerned about him doing well as herself. So, Harry humored her. Besides, she had a lot of good points about how to correct his answers to various questions and he couldn't argue with the girl's knowledge of the material. After a couple of hours of this, they parted and went to bed.

But Harry had a nightmare during his sleep.

In it, Professor Snape was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban and berating Harry for not doing well enough at school. The greasy-haired man then brought in Professor Dumbledore who handed Harry his expulsion papers, explaining that he shouldn't have listened to Hermione concerning his homework - it was now going to cost him dearly. In the background, Harry could have sworn he saw Professor Quirrell, who had a bald head without the turban, laughing at him while this was going on. The boy awoke with a sweat and found his scar hurting for some reason.

Confused, he noticed how dark the dorm room was and figured it was too early to get up. He tried to go back to sleep but only managed to do so a mere fifteen minutes before the waking charm re-woke him.

He would start the day in a foul mood. And little did Harry know, this would lead to a chain of events that would change the way he perceived his peers at school.

But it would also teach him a lesson he'd never forget for the rest of his life: what true friendships are really made of.

TO BE CONTINUED…