Harry Potter and the Odyssey of the Arcane

by I await a guardian

Euphemia and Fleamont survived the 1978-1979 Dragon Pox Epidemic. Events change, a sacrifice is exchanged and a different Harry negotiates the perils of Magical Britain as he seeks out the deeper mysteries of the occult.

6. Intriguing Introductions

"First years, with me please."

Harry glanced up at the older girl with black hair calling them to gather around her. A badge was pinned on her robes indicating she was in a position of authority.

With the welcome feast seemingly finished and the school song sung, other students were beginning to make their way from the Great Hall.

Harry, not having any knowledge of Hogwarts layout, went over to meet the older girl, Ophelia, trailing shortly behind.

The black-haired girl voiced proudly.

"As you well know, you've been sorted into Slytherin House. Congratulations are in order for being sorted into Hogwarts most prestigious house."

The girl then gestured to herself.

"I'm Gemma Farley, your Fifth-year prefect. I will be in charge of seeing you adjust to the day-to-day affairs of Hogwarts. Feel free to ask me any questions during the school year or issues that arise during your first year at Hogwarts."

An older boy, who Harry noted had been standing next to Gemma, broke in.

"My name is Simon Dedworth, I will be adjoining Gemma as your designated fifth-year male Prefect."

Simon, finished with his introduction continued. "You will find out shortly that things within Slytherin House are done a certain way due to the animosity we face from the other houses. It is expected that you follow these principles to the letter, am I clear?"

A collective nod could be seen throughout the Slytherin first years.

"Good," Simon said. "We'll escort you to the common room in the dungeons now. Please follow behind Gemma and me."

Harry followed as they were guided through the right side of the Entrance Hall before descending down a marble staircase facing the doors of the castle. The marble staircase eventually gave way to stone steps as they descended deeper and deeper.

The entrance to the common room emerged after a lengthy descent, a bronze door gleaming with the heads of seven outstretched serpents.

Gemma stopped the first years at the entrance and spoke.

"Make sure to remember the password is 'pedigree'. The password will change every term."

Upon the mention of the word, the bronze door swung outwards.

"Step through please," Simon said to the slightly startled Slytherin first years.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stonework surrounding the walls and ceiling, greenish lamps hung limply from dangling chains as a fire crackled in the background. The motif of snakes was evident. The supporting pillars had large entwining serpents while the elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead and chairs could be seen with silhouettes of several snakes.

A man could be seen standing in the middle of the common room with flowing robes, greasy shoulder-length black hair, and a prominent hooked nose accompanied by sallow skin. Older years seated around the common room were watching him curiously.

"Good evening." The man said in a monotone, cold black eyes giving the first years a pinning stare. "I am Professor Severus Snape, your Head of House. I have the loathsome occupation of managing you ungrateful brats and teaching you the delicate art of Potions."

Their Head of House continued painstakingly slowly. "Thankfully, many… of you..."

Professor Snape then paused, eyes directly locking onto Harry's.

A sharp strike followed as Harry felt the tell-tale intrusion of a mind lance. Grimacing, he resurrected his barriers.

It was no use of course. The lance shredded through his mind like wet paper before it abruptly broke off.

Surprised at how fast the exchange ended, Harry took in Professor Snape's inquiring eyebrow directed his way before it swiftly vanished back into Impassiveness. The monotone resurfacing as he spoke.

"No doubt, due to your illustrious bloodlines, you will have a modicum of experience concerning proper decorum and brewing skills that will be tolerable. For those who don't…"

Snape trailed off direly.

"I will grant you a small reprieve for most of the term considering the prestigious house you have been selected in. Do not disappoint."

Once the nods subsided Snape then deliberated.

"Flint, Marcus," Snape voiced slowly. "Perhaps... you could educate our newest members of the rules within our house."

The boy in question grinned a row of yellow crooked teeth and slouched further back into the upholstered couch he was sitting on.

"It's quite simple, isn't it professor? What happens within the common room stays within the common room."

Marcus, now looking pleased with himself, gave another grin towards the first years. This one etched to the very corners of his cheeks.

Snape, however, gave Marcus a pitiful look and said bluntly.

"As succinct as that explanation was… I'd rather an explanation that wasn't more suited to the typical neanderthal."

Snape continued. "Mrs. Farley, why don't you elaborate on Mr. Flint's explanation."

Whilst Marcus scowled, Gemma gave a polite nod and spoke.

"Slytherin House prides itself on our unified front outside the common room. No hostility is to be shown within the halls and classrooms within Hogwarts, all matters are expected to be settled within the House. Decorum and code of conduct are expected to be at their highest outside the common room. It should be noted, however, that while rule-breaking isn't frowned upon. Repercussions will be severe if caught. Furthermore, due to the enmity Slytherin House faces from the other three Houses, particularly the Gryffindors. It is recommended that you do not travel alone in the hallways. Especially at night."

Gemma stopped her speech to give them a stern look.

"Finally. You have entered the viper's nest. Ambition, resourcefulness, determination, and cleverness are held here in high regard. Let it be known that manipulations within here are as common as the air you breathe. Ward your feelings well, for they'd be better guarded at Gringotts."

"Yes…" Snape surmised. "As Mrs. Farley so eloquently put it. Slytherin House is not a place for idle tears or weakness. I expect you all to learn that shortly."

The Potions Professor continued. "Mrs. Farley, Mr. Dedworth. See them to bed will you? I think enough on the subject of expectations has been said."

Snape. Swiftly turning, black robes swishing behind him left through the open common room doorway.

"First-year boys with me." Came the call of Simon.

"First-year girls with me." Gemma promptly echoed.

Harry gave Ophelia a small smile. "I'll see you in the morning, goodnight."

"Goodnight." the brunette responded with a sigh. "It seems we're really in the snake pit now Harry."

"It'll be ours soon enough," Harry said gravely, waving her off and walking over to Simon Dedworth.

Harry followed Simon up a stairwell adjacent to the girl's dormitories.

Simon then paused and indicated to the first room on the left as he spoke.

"Your luggage and belongings should be inside. I'd advise using the communal shower provided as well."

An acknowledging nod by the First-year boys at the suggestion and Simon continued.

"I'll see you at 8:00 to escort you to breakfast. Classes start at 9:00."

The Fifth year Perfect finished with his explanation, said goodbye, and left.

Harry's eyes scanned through the dormitory upon entry. Six ancient four-poster beds with green silk hangings could be seen accompanied by drawers alongside the beds. Silver lanterns hung from the ceiling, while medieval tapestries decorated the walls. The doorway on the right side of the room, Harry presumed was to the shower. It was the arched windows at the end of the dormitories however that caught Harry's attention. The windows showcased glimpses of the black lake. Aquatic flora and fauna could be seen through the transparent windows. It seemed the Slytherin Dungeons were built under the lake.

"So." Draco Malfoy drawled. "A Potter in Slytherin, how scandalous. Poor papa Potter will die from shock."

Draco then placed two hands to his chest and feigned a heart attack.

Harry looked at the pale-haired boy curiously. He wasn't sure if the arrogant ponce was trying to be his usual annoying self or make a scene about his placement in Slytherin.

Harry shrugged.

"I'm not concerned about what my father thinks but we'll see if he disowns me or not. If he does well…" Harry trailed off. "At least your father and my father will have something in common for being arseholes."

Draco, unlike Harry, rose to take the bait. "My father is not an arsehole!"

Harry then casually pointed out. "I seemingly remember you mentioned your father would disown you for being a Hufflepuff."

Draco scoffed. "As if I'd become a duffer."

"Well, that's settled then," Harry said, not really in the mood to argue. "You're not a Hufflepuff and I'm not a Gryffindor."

A tall, black boy with a sharp jawline spoke up. Harry remembered him as Blaise Zabini from the sorting.

"He's right, Draco. We're Slytherins, forget about the sorting, and let's get to bed."

Draco flippantly sighed. "Very well. We can talk more tomorrow."

Glad the conversation was finally over. Harry strode over to grab his now enlarged trunk and yank it to the far left corner of the dormitory by the window. He appreciated the view.

After rummaging through his trunk for his pajamas and a couple of books to place upon his bedside table. Harry had made sure to cast one of the very few wards he knew before he headed off to shower, the Alert Ward. The ward was a simple one in function, anyone within the radius of his bed that wasn't him would trigger the ward allowing him to promptly wake up, wand at the ready.

Harry after his shower felt much more comfortable and was comfortably nestled underneath the cotton sheets of his bed.

It seemed Blaise and a boy called Theodore Nott had chosen to join him on the left-hand side whilst Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were on the right-hand side.

Harry however, was still twitchy in his new accommodation though. He wasn't entirely easy with sleeping in an open room with a bunch of other boys. He'd been reliant on locks and anticipation during his stay at the orphanage to keep other orphans from thieving the few belongings he had. His month stay at Potter Manor however had slightly diminished his caution slightly. As such it had taken him quite a while to get accustomed to the open dormitory before he rolled over and fell asleep.

Harry jolted awake as magic hummed within his body to indicate his Alarm Ward had been triggered.

Before he could even reach for his wand a voice quickly said "Immobulus." The spell careened in, Harry unable to move or dodge the spell was instantly rendered frozen.

Three figures closed the distance to his bed.

"Hello Potter," A voice said menacingly.

Harry tried to speak, tried to move but found he couldn't.

The voice continued. "Ah. No need for that Potter, allow us to do the talking."

Another boy cut in with a tone filled with loathing. "I suppose you don't know who we are, do you?"

It seemed the question was rhetorical as the boy made to speak again. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. Names, Nigel Parkinson."

The boy in the menacing tone then spoke, "Miles Bletchley."

The final unknown boy then said softly. "Cassius Warrington."

Nigel Parkinson then continued, eyes glaring at him.

"You probably don't know why we're exactly here, well let me spell it out for you Potter. Your grandparents killed our relatives, sullied our family names."

Harry's heart started pounding. The situation now felt precarious.

"Oh. Don't worry Potter." Miles Bletchley said, leaning over to trace his wand mockingly across Harry's face. "We're not going to kill you, not now anyway."

Harry shivered as Miles then whispered in his ear. "As much as I'd like to."

"No," Parkinson spoke up, his glare filled with hatred. "We're just here to have a conversation, to tell you this, Potter. Your days are numbered and whilst we won't kill you just yet. We're going to make your life a living hell."

Bletchley smiled and said confidently. "As a good show of sportsmanship, you have a week to prepare yourself, Potter. Then you're free game."

Warrington then spoke in his soft voice. "You're quite the gift Potter, the one we're free to hurt without any consequence. Don't go to Professor Snape either, he'll simply ignore you. Best of luck though."

Parkinson then said ominously. "We'll be seeing you soon Potter, best be prepared."

Bletchley gave Harry a sadistic smirk as his weight shifted off him. Giving Harry a mocking goodbye wave before he quickly followed after Cassius and Nigel as they left the first-year dormitory largely undisturbed.

Genuine fear gripped Harry for the first time in his life as the spell eventually wore off. The boy falling back into a restless slumber knew however he wouldn't go down easy; he'd make sure they'd fear him before he was done.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the kid with the red hair."

"The kid with the brown hair?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

It was a deeply unsettled Harry who sat at the Slytherin table, whispers erupting around him as they discussed his brother in rapture.

Harry didn't honestly care either, he had bigger fish to fry rather than listen to people stoke the ego of his brother Eric, who Harry thought had a little too much strut in his stride for Harry's liking.

His brooding however seemed to get interesting as a wispy, spectral form emerged from his paltry porridge bowl.

"Well met, descendant," The ghost said somberly.

Harry looked carefully at the gaunt ghost covered in silver bloodstains and voiced. "Who are you?"

The ghost replied gravely. "Many people know me as the Bloody Baron, the ghost of the Slytherin house. But you descendant should know me as your ancestor Sullivan FitzPotter."

Harry studied his supposed grim-looking ancestor apprehensively. Perhaps he could learn a thing or two...

"FitzPotter?" Harry questioned.

The Bloody Baron inclined his head. "It's a rough translation used in the Dark Ages that means 'son of,' hence the surname FitzPotter, it's fallen out of use, however."

Harry nodded in thought and spoke again. "Why have you approached me and not my brothers?"

The Bloody Baron hesitated before sadness enveloped his tone.

"Truthfully, I stopped caring. I have been in this castle since the time of the Founders, I was alive when Merlin himself walked the earth. Witnessing generations of my line pass through these hallowed halls left me apathetic to their struggles. But you, my descendent, made me curious. I was the only Potter for millennia sorted into Slytherin until you."

The Bloody Baron continued. "Generations of Potters, most of them chivalrous Gryffindors, the blood of Godric runs strong. Rarely do I see a Potter sorted into Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. But you are an enigma, different from the usual stock. I had thought you were much the same as me but that isn't the case."

A few curious heads were now turned to watch the exchange between Harry and the Bloody Baron.

Harry, however, ignored them and tried to reply helpfully. "The Hat said Slytherin would pave the way to greatness."

The Bloody Baron seemed to give the boy an appraising eye before he spoke sadly, it was more to himself than Harry. "Then do better than I descendant, do better than I."

With that, the Bloody Baron floated off.

"That was interesting," Ophelia said tersely.

"It's something to dwell on later," Harry said, waving the matter off. "I have more pressing issues."

Ophelia nodded. Harry had retold the brunette of last night's encounter with the three older Slytherins.

"We'll deal with them when the time comes," Ophelia said nonchalantly

Harry sighed and voiced.

"It's not some playground fight, Ophelia. These people are older, most likely know more magic and there are three of them. This is my problem to deal with anyway. I don't want you getting involved and hurting yourself."

Evidently, the brunette wasn't going to take a no for an answer.

Ophelia cracked her knuckles and spoke seriously. "It became my problem when they decided to target you. It's still a fight, the stakes are just raised, I've been itching for a scrap anyway."

Harry eyed the brunette warily, it was clear upon the resolve she displayed that she wasn't going to let Harry handle the three boys alone.

Harry voiced severely. "If you're serious. We only have one chance. We have to bait them into attacking on our terms. We strike hard, we strike fast, I want them to know the meaning of fear so they'll never try to attack again."

Ophelia sighed, not exactly fond of the idea. "Very well. I'll do it your way."

The brunette then continued offhandedly. "It would've been easier to just do it now in the Great Hall. Take them by surprise. Send a message to everyone."

Harry deliberated for a couple of seconds. The idea did have potential.

"Usually I'd disagree with your methods. But if we baited them into attacking us in the Great Hall it would give us immunity."

Ophelia shrugged as if it was obvious and spoke.

"It kills two birds with one stone. People will be wary of us if we manage to take down three third years. They can't exactly attack you again without suspicions being placed upon them."

Harry nodded in agreement and voiced. "Our punishment wouldn't be too bad either if we don't instigate the fight."

Ophelia, glad the matter was settled, then pointed out where Professor Quirrel was sitting.

"The man with the turban, the one from Diagon. He's got two auras now, similar to yours before Gringotts. You should be careful around him."

Harry took in the pale-skinned professor, he didn't seem dangerous at first glance, rather timid. Harry supposed that he was the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, so maybe he encountered a form of Dark Magic?

"I'll keep it in mind." Harry decided. He would give the Professor the benefit of the doubt for now but trust Ophelia all the same.

"Good," Ophelia said brightly upon Harry acknowledging her advice.

The girl then drew out her timetable and continued. "Breakfast is about finished. Let's get to Charms."

The Charms class had been with the Hufflepuffs. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who stood on a tower of books to see over his desk.

The Professor, when taking the roll call, had been quite excited upon seeing Claymore, almost toppling over and exclaiming 'that his mother Lily, had been one of his greatest students.' It seemed that Claymore with his red hair and emerald eyes had resembled to Flitwick the splitting image of his mother. Flitwick however upon calling Harry's name had given him a curious stare and left it at that.

The diminutive professor had then gone on to give a universal lecture on the application of charms. Describing the branch of charms was centred around 'adding or changing certain properties of an object.' Flitwick went on to explain that Enchantments, whilst revolving around the utilisation of charms do have some exceptions.

Flitwick then gave a demonstration of the Repello Inimicum charm to prove this statement. Floating a feather through the makeshift barrier, the feather disintegrated. The Charms Professor went on to explain that while the Repello Inimicum is acknowledged as a charm, it is an anomaly as it does not fall under the definition of a charm because it doesn't require a physical presence, object, or being to have the spell take effect. Instead, Repello Inimicum is a field around an area and would be better recognised as a ward.

Flitwick finally wrapped up the class with a simple explanation of conjuration, describing it as a sub-branch of Transfiguration and Charms. Flitwick noted that while conjuring needed no base material to achieve a conjuration, immaterial manipulation of one's magic would be required to achieve physical matter. The diminutive Professor then announced that in order to cast a spell one should acknowledge that distance, mass, precision were all factors dependent upon the skill, knowledge, and strength of the caster.

Harry had found the charms class surprisingly informative as the Slytherins left to attend Herbology later in the morning.

The class seemed to be with the Ravenclaws, Harry saw his brother Antonius in the crowd of eagles but Antonius didn't bother saying hello, staying close to Terry Boot at all times. Harry surmised it was most likely due to his sorting.

They didn't have much time to talk either as the dumpy witch named Professor Sprout gave them an introduction to the field of study, detailing how to take care of strange plants and fungi.

Harry himself wasn't fussed with plants, he supposed that he appreciated a bit of green scenery but the practical aspect wasn't much to his taste.

The Venomous Tentacula Sprout introduced to them was a little concerning Harry thought with the mobile leaves the plant used to try to grip onto prey.

The Professor had then gone on to display the fire-making spell as a safety precaution. The spell in question turned out to be a simple incendio he'd read about in his first couple days at Potter Manor.

Harry wondered what Professor Sprout's reaction would have been if he opted to use a fire whip as an alternative. The Flagro Flagellum was much more devastating compared to a simple incendio.

After escaping the greenhouses. Harry and Ophelia had navigated the corridors of Hogwarts towards the transfiguration classroom.

Professor McGonagall wasn't in the classroom as the two entered the classroom. A grey cat however remained in the middle of the classroom, looking remarkably perceptive of its surroundings.

Ophelia, seated beside Harry murmured. "I don't think it's a normal cat, it's got an aura."

Harry nodded and asked quietly. "Do you think it's a Kneazle?"

Ophelia thought for a second. "It must be. I can't think of another explanation."

It appeared Harry and Ophelia were wrong on their assumption as a Ravenclaw girl dashed into the classroom just as the Clock Tower chimed at the beginning of class.

The cat promptly morphed into the strict form of Professor McGonagall before their eyes. A few gasps of surprise could be heard.

"She's an Animagus," Harry whispered to Ophelia.

The brunette simply nodded. Harry's father had often pranced through Potter Manor in his Stag form during their stay.

The stern professor launched into a lecture.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

It seemed to Harry that McGonagall meant business as she spoke.

"The field of transfiguration can be described as a combination of naturalistic and artificial simulacra. All transfigurations are constructs of imagination, imitation, and counterfeiting."

McGonagall continued. "A transfiguration can be either Promethean in its intent or simply prosaic. Their aim is maximum operationality, hyperreality, total control."

McGonagall then paused, eying the classroom's occupants critically.

"As wizards and witches, sentient beings. We have always had large reserves of the imaginary. It is our imagination that allows transfiguration to shape and change. However, let it be noted that the coefficient of reality will always be proportional to the imaginary, It provides the former with its specific gravity. Transfiguration will always constitute to the imaginary domain with reference to the real; It is, in itself, an extension of the real, and thus leaves no room for any metaphysical extrapolation. Transfiguration is immanent and therefore will leave no room for any kind of transcendentalism. Transfiguration itself is the opposite of any magical practice seeking to subvert nature; they are collective constructs of the physical world, not inexplicable by preternatural means.

McGonagall paused again to give an inquiring stare. Asserting to herself the classroom was following along.

"Whilst a technical introduction to the field of transfiguration, these concepts will be introduced to you through the duration of your stay at Hogwarts. Now can anyone tell me a limitation of transfiguration?"

"Miss Brocklehurst?" McGonagall asked a girl who raised her arm.

The girl hesitated before speaking. "Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration is well known."

"Indeed." McGonagall voiced. "Whilst the formulation of Gamp's Law is not exactly known, food is one of the Principal Exceptions to transfiguration. It can be enlarged, summoned, or duplicated but never created from nothing."

"Good. Miss Brocklehurst," McGonagall said again with a pleased nod, ''take a point for Ravenclaw."

The Transfiguration professor continued. "It is not expected for anyone to know so early starting the curriculum but can anyone else tell me one of the six other limitations of transfigurations?"

Antonius this time raised his hand.

"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall enquired.

"The Law of Magical Genesis," Antonius replied.

"Yes." McGonagall surmised. "Another notable exception. Magical materials and objects can't be conjured or duplicated. It is the reason magical ingredients for potions and wands have to be harvested and not conjured or duplicated. Potions, in particular, cannot be duplicated, for the magic within the item itself will resist duality. Though like enchanted objects Potions can be altered in form. As such, due to the Law of Magical Genesis Enchanters and Potioneers are needed for this very reason."

McGonagall gave an approving nod. "Take a point for Ravenclaw Mr. Potter, I hope you show the same brilliance for transfiguration as your father did."

"Would anyone else like to share?" McGonagall then asked.

Delphini decided to raise her hand.

McGonagall scrutinized her but ultimately asked. "Miss Riddle, you may share with the class."

"The Proclamation of Thoth," Delphini said evenly.

A speculative glance at Delphini came from the Professor before she spoke.

"The Proclamation of Thoth. 'Knowledge cannot be created, through trial and error it must be discovered.' Not as well known by Witches and Wizards but a limitation of transfiguration all the same. Accessibility to knowledge as a whole has been theorised in wizarding society but all attempts have been in vain. Books like all other materials of null value can be duplicated. However the knowledge within the pages must be discovered first, it can't be conjured or transfigured. An important aspect of transfiguration to remember."

"Next?" McGonagall continued sharply. It seemed unlike Mandy and Antonius, Delphini wouldn't be granted a point for her contribution.

Another Blonde from Slytherin raised her hand to answer.

"Miss Greengrass?" McGonagall asked.

"The Dictum of Dissipation." Daphne Greengrass said knowingly.

"Yes." McGonagall acknowledged and then voiced to the class.

"The Dictum of Dissipation is probably the most notable of all limitations. You should know by now that all transfigurations will revert overtime back to mana, the source of energy all magical beings possess. No transfiguration is permanent, it is all dependent on the magical output of the caster. Coinage as an example can't be created permanently by magical means. Goblin currency in particular is enchanted so it can't be duplicated or melted down, it would ruin the economy otherwise. It is another reason why craftsmen and all producers of goods are needed in society. Always note a transfiguration, though useful, is a temporary replacement at best. A pebble transfigured to a statue will always be a pebble."

McGonagall, seeming satisfied, continued. "Take a point Mrs. Greengrass for Slytherin."

Harry didn't fail to notice Delphini's scowl. The girl seated alone towards the front of the room didn't seem pleased she'd been snubbed by the transfiguration teacher. It must be personal, he thought.

"Anyone else?" McGonagall said, scanning the room for a raised hand.

Anthony Goldstein, seated near Antonius and Terry, spoke up, not bothering to raise his hand.

"Yes." The boy said. "The Standard Law of Metamorphosis."

"Ah yes," McGonagall said pleased. "Thank you, Mr. Goldstein."

McGonagall then announced it to the rest of the class.

"The Standard Law of Metamorphosis is well known in human transfiguration, while partial or full body transfigurations can take place. There are limits to what we as Wizards and Witches can transfigure. Anatomical constructs in conjunction with the Dictum of Dissipation mentioned previously are not permanent and will lapse in structure after time. Bones, blood, skin, all vital parts of the body cannot be substituted with transfiguration. Skelegrow, Blood Replenishing Potions, and medical pastes are needed for permanent rehabilitation. It should be further specified that the Standard Law of Metamorphosis directly states that Human transfiguration cannot reverse injuries caused by the Dark Arts. The Dark Arts are malicious in nature and as a consequence have seen to the ails of many Witches and Wizards."

McGonagall then paused, appearing content with her explanation before she continued speaking.

"Mr. Goldstein, another point for Ravenclaw. I believe we can now begin the practical portion of the class."

Harry, however, frowned and politely spoke up. She'd skipped the sixth limitation.

"Professor McGonagall, I believe Raczidian's Regulation of Reanimation went unsaid, It is the last law of the six limitations of transfiguration."

A livid glare from Mcgonagall was directed his way. Evidently, it was the wrong thing to say.

Harry had only a few seconds to ponder his words before the Transfiguration Professor exploded.

"Mr. Potter!" Came the irate voice of Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration Mistress was red with rage.

"I believe you are sorely mistaken if you would dare assume I would discuss someone as vile as Raczidian in the classroom full of first years. Necromancy is a banned subject of discussion at Hogwarts, you would do well to remember it."

McGonagall continued on her tirade. "Take 10 points from Slytherin for your brazenness Mr. Potter and be thankful it's not more. If I hear you uttering conjectures on Necromancy again we will be having discussions with Headmaster Dumbledore about your place at Hogwarts."

Harry gritted his teeth, voicing slowly. "My apologies, Professor."

McGonagall simply gave a "Hmph!" Her displeasure was clear for all to see.

Antonius's mutter to Terry boot could be heard throughout the now silent classroom."A day in Slytherin and my brother is already a Dark Wizard."

Harry was internally strewing inside however, the reaction by Mcgonagall was unfair he thought. He'd appropriately voiced out the final limitation of Transfiguration that went unsaid.

Another sharp glare directed by Mcgonagall and the Professor continued.

"Aside from Mr. Potter's distasteful interruption, we begin the practical part of our double period. You will be transfiguring matches into silver needles. Once you have collected your matches, please refer to page 13 of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, a diagram should appear to explain the process."

McGonagall then briskly walked over to grab a pack of matches from a desk drawer and placed them on top of her desk before speaking again.

"The incantation in your books will be 'Par Acus' for the transfiguration. I will write the universal counter-spell to transfiguration upon the board.'

A few scratches of chalk later upon the board and the word Reparifarge appeared upon the board.

McGonagall spoke again. "The pronunciation is reh-PAR-i-farj for the counter-spell. Remember I can't stress enough to form a clear mental picture of the object you are hoping to create before attempting the Transfiguring spell."

The class proceeded to work for the next hour on the transfiguration. Many had difficulty, however. McGonagall had already awarded points to Antonius, Daphne, and a girl named Padma Patil for what she called 'sterling Transfigurations.' The three of them were the only ones she'd visited who'd performed the full transfiguration so far.

Harry and Ophelia found the whole practical a tedious waste of time. They'd both managed the transfiguration within the first five minutes and now left the matches sitting on their shared desk waiting for the lesson to end.

"A good attempt. Mrs. Riddle." McGonagall said out loud as she inspected Delpini's match. In truth, the girl had cast the spell perfectly and McGonagall had been forced to acknowledge the girl's transfiguration as acceptable.

Professor McGonagall, after working through most of the class and their vain attempts to transfigure the match had finally come across Ophelia and Harry.

"Mrs. Black," McGonagall said. "I've noticed you've been sitting here idly for quite some time not bothering to transfigure your match. Why don't you show me so I can help you?"

McGonagall's tone suggested anything but helpful as the Transfiguration Professor seemed to be waiting to lash out at the girl.

Ophelia gave the Transfiguration a nonplussed look and absentmindedly picked up her wand, muttering 'Par Acus' as she flicked the spell towards the match.

A flash of concentration appeared upon her face before the match seamlessly turned into a silver needle giving a satisfying clatter upon the desk.

McGonagall's eyebrow gave a twitch. She was obviously expecting the girl to fail.

"It's a sound effort." The Transfiguration Professor said, voicing her critique. "It could be more streamline, however."

McGonagall seemed to be picking at imaginary faults within the needle that wasn't there.

Ophelia just nodded, not rising to the bait.

McGonagall, seeing she wouldn't have a reason to deduct points, decided to give the girl some parting words.

"Your father was lazy, unmotivated, and insufferable in general, you would do well not to appear the same."

A subtle glare from Ophelia was the only response the Transfiguration Professor received from the brunette.

McGonagall sniffed as she turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, your attempt please."

The voice came off icy.

Harry sighed, he didn't want to be on a professor's bad side this early on.

Decidedly, Harry thought he'd make the transfiguration a little more flashy to try to redeem himself in the eyes of the professor.

Harry, pulling on his intent, waved his hand over the match transfiguring it into a perfectly proportioned needle before further adding a motif of a coiled serpent around the match with jewelled emerald eyes.

The match shimmered before the needle appeared with its Slytherin addition.

Harry thought the needle was quite pleasing to the eye but McGonagall seemed to find it insulting.

Blinking her surprise off at the non-verbal, wandless transfiguration. The Professor scrutinized the needle.

"I asked for a simple needle. Not one devoid of practicality, consider five points further removed from Slytherin for failing to adhere to the task, Mr. Potter."

It was a sullen Harry who sat through the rest of the Transfiguration practical while McGonagall heaped praise upon Antonius, saying he and Eric were just like James with their uncanny ability for transfiguration. Finally, after long minutes of monotony, the bell rang for the Class to finish up.

History of Magic was easily the most boring class so far. McGonagall whilst unfair towards Harry at least made things interesting in her lectures.

The ghost who taught the class had a dry monologue that would put even the most accomplished scholars to sleep. This, unfortunately, led to most of the class getting Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Harry gave a grateful sigh as he and Ophelia escaped the dreadful drone of Binns and prepared themselves to enjoy the afternoon.

"Where to now?" Ophelia asked curiously.

"The library I think." Harry mused. "There's supposed to be one of the largest repositories of knowledge within the wizarding world at the Hogwarts Library. I want a few extra spells up my sleeve before the weeks at its end."

Ophelia's nose crinkled, she knew the threat Harry faced but still voiced. "You spend too much time around books Harry, I'd rather we check out a couple of books and find an empty classroom to practice a couple of spells."

"Alright." Harry gave in. "Just let me browse for a little while."

Ophelia waved him off. "I'm happy to tag along as long as we learn something useful. God knows the Slytherin girls dormitories are boring enough with that bitch Parkinson whining constantly that her cushions aren't plumped up enough."

Harry chuckled. Ophelia had berated most of the morning that Nigel's younger sister Pansy was a pampered princess.

"You can complain about Parkinson later, let's head to the library."

Soon enough after navigating through the ancient castle, the two arrived at the corridor on the first floor of Hogwarts that led to the Library.

Ophelia upon seeing the library entrance muttered.

"I'm glad the Prefects handed us those maps along with the timetables at breakfast. Those stairs seem to have a mind of their own."

Harry didn't disagree with Ophelia. She wasn't exactly wrong, the stairs had a sentience of their own making crossing them difficult. They seemed to move spontaneously without any pattern.

"I know," Harry replied. "There's not exactly anything we can do about it though."

"Fine." Ophelia huffed, not bothering to argue to point further as she headed towards the library impatiently and voiced. "Let's grab these books. Whilst the stairs are annoying I want to explore the castle a little more before finding an unused classroom."

The Library of Hogwarts put Potter Manor to shame in its vastness. Tens of thousands of books on thousands of shelves could be seen with nearly every subject displayed under the sun.

"This is gonna be tedious," Harry murmured, moving over to the sign that indicated the Defence Against The Dark Arts section.

"Definitely." Ophelia agreed. "We'll be a while judging from the number of books."

A majority of an hour was spent rummaging through the shelves aimlessly. It seemed the theoretical portion of books within the library outweighed the practical books ten to one. Finally, Harry and Ophelia after a struggle of figuring out which books suited their needs had compiled several selected texts.

"That should do it," Ophelia said with a tired sigh.

"Hmm," Harry said, staring down at their choices. "I think we have all we need for now."

Ophelia tried to hurry Harry on.

"Come on then, let's check them out. I wanna escape the library, too many prying eyes."

Harry couldn't fault her either. Judging from the few of the older years that had been giving them curious glances. It was unusual for first-years to be wading through the vast shelves of the library on the first day.

The librarian, Madam Pince, gave them a raised eyebrow as Harry and Ophelia approached the counter.

"I didn't expect a couple of first-years to come so soon." Madam Pince said in an offhand voice before dismissing it. "Well, let's see your choices."

Harry stepped forward with four books, Ophelia holding another two across her chest.

The librarian scrutinized him and said severely. "Only three books are allowed to be borrowed per person. You'll have to set one aside and come back another time."

Harry looked at Ophelia and said. "Do you mind?"

Ophelia shrugged. "Not at all."

Harry quickly handed one off to Ophelia before passing the rest to Madam Pince on the counter.

"Name Please?" The librarian enquired.

"Harry Potter."

"One second." Madam Pince said as she grabbed a large ledger and began scribbling with a quill.

The librarian then began to read them out as she noted them. "A Duellers Dance, A compendium of offensive spells, Dabbles in the Defensive a directory to out-think your enemies and The Allure of Darkness a theoretical and practical guide to countering the Dark Arts."

Madam Pince paused once she finished and hesitantly voiced. "Are you sure you'd like to borrow these books? Some of the Spells are quite advanced, I can't see a first-year being able to cast them with proficiency. Though I suppose you might be able to manage some of the power heavy spells that require no theoretical knowledge."

Harry waved her off. "I'm not expecting to learn them all, some seemed useful, however."

"Very well." Madam Pince sighed and then warned. "Be careful with the Allure of Darkness, I had to fight quite extensively for Headmaster Dumbledore to not place the book in the restricted section a few years back."

"I'll keep it in mind," Harry said unconcerned.

Madam Pince gave a nod as she turned to Ophelia. "Name please?"

"Ophelia Black."

Madam Pince jotted the name down before turning to the books Ophelia had placed upon the table.

The librarian audibly voiced the first two titles as she noted them down upon the ledger.

"Flames of Misfortune and Sinful Cinders, how to combust your rival."

Madam Pince after reading the first two titles out loud arched an eyebrow at Ophelia and enquired. "A budding pyromaniac I see?"

"So what?" Ophelia said undaunted and announced simply. "I like fire."

The librarian gave the brunette a penetrating stare but said nothing. Truth be told, the librarian was a little hesitant in handing over the books. The girl had the makings of a vicious witch.

Madam Pince scrutinizing Ophelia further noted she was a pretty thing with her high cheekbones and curly hair, although her manner was albeit a bit temperamental. It seemed she'd have to hide the books on castration curses in a couple of years...

Madam Pince finally voiced. "You may take the books as well as Emotions and the Esoteric. But if I find out you burnt down half a Hogwarts corridor, we will have words missy."

Ophelia shrugged, unfazed at the possible rebuke.

Madam Pince then turned to Harry. "You seem like a sensible young man. Keep her in line will you?"

Harry gave a rye smile, it seemed the librarian had gaged some of Ophelia's personality. "I'll try my best ma'am."

Madam Pince then waved them off. "Very well you may take the books. Try not to cause trouble."

Madam Pince watched the two leave. If there was any correlation with their initial meeting they'd be a deadly duo indeed.

"Finally!" Ophelia said excitedly. "I found a few interesting spells to practice within the books."

The two after an arduous search through the castle had stumbled upon a disused classroom located on the fourth floor.

She then looked quizzically at Harry. "You can still do the water charm right?"

Harry sighed. "Yes. Ophelia."

The Aguamenti Charm had become a necessity for the boy to learn after teaching Ophelia how to cast the fire whip he'd learned. After getting the casting down the brunette had a few close calls trying to twirl the whip initially.

"Good. Good." Ophelia said enthusiastically. "Let's begin our practice then. I think I saw a variant of the fire whip that has nine tails."

'A fiery cat o' nine tails.' Harry surmised grimly, their afternoon should be interesting at least.

Friday had quickly appeared for Harry and Ophelia. The two after a couple of days of lessons were becoming used to the routine of Hogwarts.

Harry, however, was becoming increasingly paranoid that the three older boys might break their word. As a consequence of his fears, he'd taken great lengths to tighten up the security around his bed.

Theodore Nott had found out the hard way after approaching Harry in his bed to ask him a question about the upcoming transfiguration homework Mcgonagall had assigned. A Petrification ward instead had caught Theodore by surprise.

Harry, whilst grateful that the ward had seemingly worked, was annoyed. The raven-haired boy had spent multiple hours of work to finally complete the laborious exercise of tying the ward to his bed and then adding his spell signature. He was quite disgruntled to say the least that Nott got caught in his ward. Freeing Nott was beyond painful and Harry through trial and error had finally been able to rework the ward backward to free Nott, sternly telling the boy to never accidentally clip his bedside again.

Other than that incident. Harry had mostly stuck with Ophelia in the unused classroom practicing spells, completing homework, or exploring the classroom, Ophelia had heard a rumour of secret passages within Hogwarts and was determined to find a couple.

The two of them were now sitting at the Slytherin table trying to enjoy their breakfast.

"What's on today Ophelia?" Harry asked as he reached for a scone.

"Double Potions with the Gryfindor's," Ophelia said glancing at her timetable as she idly poked at her largely untouched porridge.

"Do you think Eric and Ron will call us Slimy Slytherins again," Harry replied curiously.

Ophelia thought about it for a second. "Ron's pigheaded but Eric is plain prejudiced. I'm hoping Snape will return the favour. Apparently, he's ruthless when it comes to the Gryffindor's."

Harry gave a troubled frown. Snape's dislike of Eric had yet to be voiced but it was clear in his glare that he detested the boy. He seemed to detest him too by all accounts as their first theoretical potion lesson was met with utter loathing towards Eric, him, and surprisingly Ophelia.

Snape, surprisingly, had yet to voice his disdain to each of them individually. Preferring instead to lecture about their woeful knowledge on the 'meticulous artisanship that was potions.'

Today was a practical lesson however and judging from the subtle twitch on Snape's face when he looked upon Eric, Snape undoubtedly had something to say.

Harry's frown subsided as he nodded and mentioned casually.

"I wouldn't mind seeing Eric being knocked down a peg or two. My brother needs to fall off his high horse."

"Yes," Ophelia said in agreement as she poured sugar into her porridge. "His ego is rather inflated."

Harry nodded in agreement grimly.

Eric, out of all of Harry's brothers, had taken the shock of Harry's sorting the worst.

Whilst Claymore now shied away from him and Antonius viewed him as a dark wizard, Eric had strived to denounce him as his brother.

Eric had decided it was his moral duty to voice to all who would listen that Harry was a Dark Lord in the making. Ron Weasley had been his main supporter on the matter.

A consequence of Eric's words meant the whole Gryffindor table was now progressively worse in their glares.

The Lions seemed to vehemently express their dislike towards Ophelia and Harry at any moment they could. They seemed to think he'd betrayed the Potter name by being sorted into Slytherin. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw they could allow but not Slytherin. A few heated words had been spoken to Harry in the corridors by the Gryffindor's. Ophelia too had been caught in the crossfire as her father came up in the verbal barrage by the Gryffindors. It seemed a Potter associating with a Black was Unthinkable.

They'd been tested through their first couple days at Hogwarts but Harry and Ophelia had largely done their best to ignore the Gryffindor's not wanting to escalate the conflict further.

Whilst the other houses weren't so petty in their dislike. Within Slytherin, Harry and Ophelia were completely ignored by the older years. Aside from a couple of discussions with their fellow first years, the two only had each other.

"I guess we'll just have to see how things turn out in Potions." Harry voiced offhandedly

"I suppose we will," Ophelia said grudgingly as she pushed her porridge away.

The Potions lesson took place in the dim lighting of one of the dungeons. The classroom was squared-sized, very large, with large tables and windows. In the corner resided a stone basin used to wash students' hands and ladles.

Harry and Ophelia were seated in the middle row of the tables waiting patiently for their Head of House and Potions Professor to begin the lesson.

Like most of the Slytherins and a majority of the Gryffindors, they were waiting for the elusive professor to make his appearance. The school bell had rung a minute or two previous.

Ron and Eric seemed to be the last to enter the Potions classroom. The bright red flush of the redhead's cheeks and Eric's heaving for breath pointed to the fact that the two had waited till the last minute to head to their class.

Ron and Eric, searching for a table that wasn't taken, decided to pause halfway through their search to stop at Harry's table.

Eric sneered at Harry.

"You've left mom heartbroken. Didn't even bother to write her a letter of how much of a disappointment you are."

Harry looked up at his brother, he'd been putting off the letter to his parents but it seemed his brother had already taken the trouble to inform them.

Eric continued. "You're lucky dad hasn't sent you back to the orphanage for tainting the Potter name. Though I'd bet any number of Galleons that he's only putting up with you for your connection to the Peverell and Sayre families."

Harry's hand gave a tremble, dearly wishing to punch away his snarky face. Thankfully his brother turned his attention to Ophelia.

"Oh and Ophelia?" Eric voiced. "Best be careful, my father is at his wits end with you. Think's you've corrupted my brother, I'd almost agree too but we all know my brother aspires to be a Dark Lord, the rumours about his interest in necromancy say enough about his desired occupation."

Eric then trailed off. "Just keep in mind Ophelia, that you would've been on the curb if not for Uncle Charlus and Mom. You're quite lucky I don't think I would be so generous welcoming a Slytherin home."

Harry's mouth gave a subtle twitch but didn't reply to defend Ophelia. The brunette in question however returned Eric's glare, eying the boy with vehement dislike.

Eric, seeing his words didn't provoke a reaction as he would've liked, gave a snarl and sauntered to a table at the front of the class.

Ron's mutter of 'slimy Slytherins' could be heard as he followed after Eric.

Moments later the audible footsteps of Severus Snape could be heard entering the classroom, robes billowing behind him.

Snape's monotone spoke up.

"There will be little foolish wand-waving here, you are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."

The Potions Master then said almost lovingly. "While I don't expect you to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron, with its shimmering fumes. I expect you to learn about the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…

Snape let his last word hang in the air before he ventured further. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death."

Snape paused again before continuing. "For those who have the aptitude to learn of course."

Silence followed Snape's speech before the man swiftly walked to the front of his desk to grab a piece of parchment.

The Potions Master began to take the roll call, idly calling out names with disinterest before he paused at Eric's name.

"Ah, Yes," Snape said softly, "Eric Potter. Our new celebrity."

Snape scrutinized Eric with dislike, before continuing to call Harry's name, black eyes narrowing before commencing with the role. The potion professor finally finished the role by calling Blaise Zabini's name.

Snape then announced shortly after.

"We will be brewing the Cure for Boils today. Instructions will be placed upon the board, the recipe can also be found in chapter one of your Magical Drafts and Potions books. I do hope, unlike the usual dunderheads I teach, that each of you will be able to brew the potion successfully."

Snape then scanned the room taking in a few nervous glances.

"Perhaps..." The Potions Professor slowly said. "Some revision might be in order."

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

Eric's swagger briefly subsided before he replied cockily. "Most likely the recipe to keep your hair all nice and greasy Snivellus."

Snape's eye gave a twitch as the Gryffindor's broke into laughter.

The Potions Professor sneered. "Take 20 points from Gryffindor for your insolence Potter."

Snape ignored Hermione's raised hand as he spoke.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

Eric replied with a grin. "Your potions cupboard sir, right next to your toenail clippings and non-existent love life."

Snape nearly purpled upon the second answer, as laughter from the Gryffindors burst out again.

Maintaining his composure, Snape voiced severely. "That will be detention Potter and a further ten points removed from Gryffindor."

Snape, now regaining his mask of composure continued mockingly. "Tut, tut. Clearly, your fame has inflated your ego. I suppose though that a good bit of time spent scrubbing cauldrons should help remove the notion that you're better than us mere mortals."

The sarcasm was practically oozing from the Potion Master's mouth.

"Let's try one more time." Snape ventured menacingly at Eric. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Eric tapped his chin in thought and exclaimed.

"I know this one Snivillous! Why Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same as you. They both make you nauseous if you look at them a little too long."

Snape finally exploded in rage, his calm complexion vanishing.

"Take another 20 points from Gryffindor, Potter! and add another night of detention for your cheek. Your father was a swine the same as you and I will endeavour during our coming nights together to instil some politeness in your besotted head."

The Gryffindor's didn't laugh this time, suddenly looking alarmingly at Eric. The boy in the space of a minute had lost 50 points for Gryffindor.

The now-furious Snape voiced.

"Potter! The Slytherin one! Why don't you demonstrate to your pitiful brother some proper decorum and answer the questions the puffed up prince couldn't."

Eric scowled at the returned insult.

Harry, however, had been sitting quietly watching the exchange as his brother Eric dug himself deeper into a ditch. The answers were simple Harry thought as Snape quizzed his brother. All the information he needed was in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi which he had read previously before coming to Hogwarts.

With Snape calling upon him. Harry made to reply but Hermione, now practically standing, face scandalised at Eric's replies, shot her hand out in the air and pleaded.

"Please, Professor! I've read all about the material, allow me to answer."

"Sit down," Snape snapped at the bushy-haired girl. "I did not ask for an insufferable Know-It-All to answer. I asked the Potter from Slytherin."

With Hermione now slumping, dismayed over the insult from Professor Snape. Harry replied.

"The combination of asphodel and wormwood will create a powerful sleeping called the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar, which is highly effective in neutralizing most poisons, is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant known as aconite."

Snape nodded. "Good Mr. Potter, take 5 points for Slytherin. It seems unlike your brother there is hope for you yet."

The Potion Professor's black eyes then gave a glint.

"Although…" Snape trailed off. "I wouldn't want your potential ruined so early on."

"Mr. Potter." Snape continued. " Do see that you seat yourself next to Miss Riddle in the far corner. You'll thank me later."

Harry reluctantly nodded and obliged Snape's request. He wasn't prepared to argue with the Potions professor and achieve detention like Eric.

Sighing. Harry whispered to Ophelia, "I'll see you after class."

Before Ophelia could reply, Snape cut in. "Quickly Mr. Potter, I will not have you become so acquainted with Miss Black in my class.

"Yes Professor," Harry said in a pithy voice. He still wasn't happy about being moved.

Harry sighed as he began to move. The raven haired boy saw no no other option other than trying to protest. Deciding it was a losing battle with Snape, Harry gave one last apologetic shrug to Ophelia before he headed towards the solitary figure of Delphini in the back corner of the classroom.

Approaching the blonde with icy tips in her hair, a terse nod could be seen from the girl before she gestured for him to step next to her beside the workbench.

Snape, seemingly satisfied with the separation, then announced with relish. "You should know Mr. Potter, that Miss Black's father and your father were good-for-nothing reprobates during their stay at Hogwarts. The shenanigans they caused were contemptible at best. I will not see a second coming."

Snape then ventured smugly. "Considering their personal history, you may see this as me doing you a favour. I warn you that nothing good will come from associating with the daughter of Sirius Black."

"Yes Professor." Harry voiced tonelessly, not prepared to argue.

"Good," Snape said pleased and then turned to Ophelia. "Miss Black, you can move beside Miss Granger seeing as she's the only one left unpartnered."

Ophelia gave a grudging glare towards the Potions Master and then quietly shuffled alongside Hermione.

Harry noted that like Delphini in Slytherin. It seemed Hermione had made no friends in Gryffindor.

Snape then voiced out loud. "Seeing as everything is in order, you may get started. Ingredients, cauldrons and various tools are at the back of the room. "

A further flick from Snape's wand and the instructions appeared on the board.

Delphini caught Harry's attention as she said quietly. "Why don't you start gathering the ingredients, cauldron, and mortar while I read through the instructions."

"Very well," Harry murmured as he opened Magical Drafts and Potions to double-check what ingredients they needed.

The Potion had a lengthy number of ingredients: Dried nettles, Six snake fangs, four-horned slugs, Pungous Onions, Flobberworm Mucus, ginger root, Shrake Spines, and two porcupine quills were listed.

Sighing, Harry went over to collect what they needed, leaving Delphini to read through the methodology.

Finally, after a return trip from the cupboards, Harry had the ingredients lined up alongside the mortar and cauldron he'd placed on the table earlier.

"That's everything." Harry voiced.

"Alright," Delphini said softly, still glancing at the open book page. "Let's get started."

The two proceeded to follow the recipe adding six snake fangs into the mortar. Once the snake fangs had been crushed into a fine powder, Delphini transferred the fangs into the cauldron.

Harry in the meanwhile, sliced their Pungous Onions finely and placed them in the cauldron alongside the snake fangs.

"Okay," Delphini said, voicing out loud. "We need to start heating the cauldron. I'll grab the matches for the bunsen burner."

"No need," Harry said, waving her off as he tapped the bunsen burner and muttered a simple 'incendio.'

The enchanted bunsen burner gave a burst as it broke into an open flame.

"That makes things easier." Delphini said as she gave a pleased smile at the display of magic, continuing to add in the dry nettles that were required.

"It's no trouble," Harry said as he then proceeded to cast an 'Aguamenti' to allow the snake fangs, onion, and nettles to brew.

"Hmm. That'll save us from collecting water too." Delphini said observing him and admitted. "I haven't learnt the Aguamenti spell yet."

Harry shrugged and replied. "It's supposed to be a sixth-year spell but I tried it out of necessity and I think magical power is the main requirement. It worked on my second attempt."

Delphini nodded, "I'll keep it in mind to try and attempt it then, you've saved us time at the very least."

The icy-haired girl then handed Harry a stirring rod and voiced seriously.

"Flobberworm Mucus now and stir vigorously."

Harry did as he was told while Delphini added in the mucus, allowing the other ingredients to be blended into a murky brown sludge with swift stirs.

Delphini then whipped her brow. The fumes of the potion were beginning to swelter.

The two continued with the steps of the potions as Delphini added in a sprinkle of powdered ginger root, while Harry stirred vigorously again.

Delphini then placed two pickled Shrake spines within the cauldron and cautioned Harry. "Stir gently, so as not to over-excite the Shrake spines."

Harry did as told, allowing the Shrake spines to gently dissolve within the concoction.

"Good," Delphini said offhandedly. "The first step of the Potion is finished."

The girl continued to watch the potion bubble away before voicing.

"We'll have to wait 33-45 minutes for the base of the potion to brew through."

The raven-haired boy simply inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"So," Harry casually said, deciding to strike up a conversion to pass time. "How's Hogwarts been for you?"

Delphini gave him a sharp stare and then said sarcastically. "Oh, lovely. Having a deranged mother truly makes the other kids want to be friendly with you."

Delphini voiced her frustration further. "Let's not forget that having to frequently dodge curses in the hallways due to the Gryffindors despising me is always such a barrel of laughs."

Harry arched an eyebrow, surprised and questioned. "Ophelia hasn't had it so bad?"

"Ophelia was lucky," Delphini said bitterly. "The whole show the Potters did of adopting her made the public think they're trying to redeem her."

Delphini continued. "Society is revolted by me due to my mother's actions. I'm an outcast within Slytherin. No one wants to associate with the half-blood bastard daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange."

"I'm a half-blood," Harry said simply.

"Yes," Delphini said. "A half-blood who's heir to the House of Peverell and Sayre Foundership. I read about your little discovery in Daily Prophet, Potter. You have political power, meanwhile, I'm simply a bastard."

Harry tried to counter her argument. "Who cares about political value?"

"Who cares about political value?" Delphini questioned rhetorically. "The wizarding world of course that's who!"

Delphini then voiced sharply. "Where the hell did you grow up Potter? Political power means everything."

"In an orphanage, with Ophelia," Harry said bluntly.

"Oh," Delphini said softly. "I thought… that you would…"

"Well, you thought wrong," Harry cut in sullenly. His parents' neglect still bothered him.

Delphini ventured kindly. "Do you want to talk about it, maybe I can somehow help?"

Harry scoffed at the girl. "Nice try with your Slytherin tactic. My life story however doesn't come with a couple of sweet words. No, I'd rather watch the potion."

"Of course you'd think that," Delphini said dejectedly before murmuring to herself. 'It's all anyone thinks of the bastard of Bellatrix.'

Harry's heart softened at the murmur feeling for the girl but still didn't bother to reply, preferring to watch the potion bubble away in silence.

Delphini then after several minutes of quiet spoke up, the uncomfortable silence subsiding.

"Horned Slugs now." She said more to herself plopping the four slugs in and waiting for them to break down within the heat of the cauldron.

Once the slugs disappeared. Delphini then voiced warningly at the penultimate stage of the potion. "The porcupine quills can't be added over a live fire, they'll be volatile and explode."

Harry nodded and swiftly cast an underpowered Ventus with his wand.

"Another handy spell." Delphini grudgingly murmured, watching as the gust of wind caused the flames to go out.

Harry still didn't bother to reply but found himself happy with the compliment. He'd worked hard to absorb as many spells as he could in such a short time frame.

Delphini then placed the porcupine quills in the cauldron gently and spoke to Harry.

"Stir 5 times, clockwise."

Five clockwise turns later and the final step of the potion was finished.

"Alright," Ophelia said hesitantly. "The moment of truth."

The blonde-haired girl then raised her arm and waved her wand over the cauldron.

The brownish potion now turned the Sepia colour the book described at the end of its final stage of brewing.

"Perfect," Delphini said, pleased.

Harry gave a smile, he too was pleased with their perfectly brewed potion.

"Professor Snape," Delphini called to the Potion Master who was hovering over the cauldron of a profusely sweating Neville Longbottom. "We're finished."

"Earlier than inspected." Snape said slowly, "let's see how you've done."

Snape then stalked over to their cauldron and inspected the potion. It was evident he was scanning over the brew for any marginal mistakes, his eye was quite careful in scrutinizing the potion.

"Acceptable." Snape grudgingly admitted and said steadily. "Take 10 points for Slytherin each Mr. Potter and Miss Riddle for finishing first. I daresay that the two of you have been adequate partners. I do hope to see you working together in the future."

The way Snape voiced the last part was more an order than a suggestion.

Snape then continued. "Make sure a vial is presented by the end of the class, the two of you in the meantime can pack up and watch the rest of the dunderheads try to turn in a brew as sufficient as yours."

It was high praise from Snape.

With their workbench tidy, Harry and Delphini settled in on their seats to watch the activity around them.

"Idiot cousin," Delphini muttered watching Draco with a scowl as the boy in question had managed to stew his slugs quite poorly.

"The dimwit left them too long." Delphini continued to mumble as she watched Draco with a piercing eye.

Malfoy's cauldron was erupting clouds of acid green smoke, the loud hiss reverberating around the dungeon.

'Interesting.' Harry mused while listening in on Delphini's comments and voiced out loud. "I'd thought you'd show a bit more respect to your cousin?"

Delphini turned to him with an arched eyebrow. "I thought we weren't talking to each other Potter."

Harry shrugged and replied. "I said I wouldn't talk about my past. I'm happy to converse in the meanwhile."

Delphini gave him a measured stare. "Very well. For your knowledge dear cousin, Draco is an elitist prat."

Delphini continued with a sour note. Harry listened along.

"Draco is many things but a bumbling idiot is how I'll always remember him. The boy talks and expects the world to fall at his heels. As far as my respect goes for the pampered upstart, I've lost all fondness for him. I think it started when the dimwit tried to convince dear old Lucius on my 8th birthday that I was old enough to become his personal maid. Said a house-elf wasn't good enough for a Malfoy Scion anymore. Lucius, the peacock, agreed with his son's idea. Said I'd been freeloading in the Manor for too long, that it was time to earn my keep. It was only thanks to Aunt Narcissa intervening that she'd convinced him otherwise."

Delphini then gave Harry a penetrating look and said bitingly. "See Potter? Unlike some people who go unmentioned I can converse about tragic events of my childhood."

Harry winced a little at the sting. He didn't envy her for having to grow up with Draco Malfoy of all people. Harry himself had now grown accustomed to Draco's whine during his nights in the dormitories.

"I'm sorry. I know your childhood has been difficult. " Harry tried sincerely. "Trust just doesn't come so easily."

Delphini nodded grudgingly, accepting it. Terse silence resuming.

Snape's frequent hovering over Neville appeared to be his undoing. His and Seamus's once circular cauldron was now a twisted blob of metal, the potion now flowing across the stone floor of the classroom burning any material in its wake.

Slight panic erupted across the classroom as Slytherins and Gryffindors balanced on their stools to avoid the harmful potion.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled at the whimpering form of Neville. Snape then gave a flourish of his wand as the spilled potion vanished.

The Potions master continued on his tirade. "I suppose a simpleton such as you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire."

Neville gave a shaky nod of his head. Boils popping up around his nose.

Snape gave Neville one last pitiful look. The Potions Master didn't tolerate incompetence.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at the startled form of Seamus.

Harry watched curiously as Snape spun to glare at Eric and Ron, who'd been working beside Neville and Ron.

"You, Potter. Why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another five points you've lost for Gryffindor and another night of detention. I will not have foolishness that endangers others in my classroom."

Harry seriously doubted Snape cared about the endangerment of others. The Potions Master seemed to thrive off the suffering and despair that enveloped the fumes of his classroom. But judging by the glee in Snape's eyes, the potion master would do anything to stick it to Eric, even acting as if he cared about the wellbeing of others.

Eric tried to argue but Ron kicked him. Shutting the boy up, it seemed the redhead had some common sense after all.

Harry climbed the stairs out of the dungeons with Ophelia half an hour later. The brunette was bemoaning the fact she had to work with Hermione Granger.

"Seriously Harry! She's such a busy boots. Wouldn't even let me touch the cauldron. The two-faced bitch actually slapped my wrist with the stirring rod when I tried to add in the flobberworm mucus."

Ophelia then demonstrated the red welt across her hand to prove her point and continued exasperatedly. "I even told her the Shrake spines had to be placed gently but did she listen? No! The girl stirred vigorously instead saying that the instructions on the board said we should, that it was more logical to follow this step instead of the one provided inside our books."

"Oh," Harry said, knowing the repercussions. The instructions on the board said to only do so if they weren't following the recipe within Magical Drafts and Potions. It seemed Hermione missed the memo.

"Yeah!" Ophelia exclaimed. "Turned the bloody potion purple it did, I was this close to cursing her."

Ophelia then nearly pinched her fingers to display how close she was.

The brunette then ranted on.

"The bossy know-it-all then handed the potion to Snape. I tell you Harry I nearly laughed at what happened next. The man congratulated her for an excellently brewed potion. Should've seen her smile too, the damn girl was beaming at the praise but Snape, well he's a cruel man. More ruthless than I gave him credit for. He went on to lecture that we'd brewed a Potion for Welts instead. Grilled us about how we couldn't show a modicum of competence and we were lucky to be getting a single mark for our effort. Honestly, Harry, it was joyous seeing her nearly burst into tears, her horror at losing a point for Gryffindor was priceless, well worth the point I lost for Slytherin."

Harry held back a smile at Ophelia's antics, knowing the girl wouldn't hesitate to curse him for finding her misfortune amusing.

"So," Harry said casually. "Pansy, Hermione, who's next?"

Ophelia gritted her teeth and replied. "Give me time Harry, give me time and I'll have a book as thick as Hogwarts A History."

Harry rolled his eyes at the brunette in fondness as the two went to enjoy their afternoon. He knew the way she compiled enemies meant the statement wasn't exactly far from the truth.

Harry was quite alert at the breakfast table this morning. Today was Monday and judging by the calculating looks further up the table from Nigel Parkinson, Miles Bletchley, and Cassius Warrington it seemed the carte blanche that allowed him to roam Hogwarts unhindered had run out.

"Ophelia," Harry whispered. "I think it's time."

"Now?" Ophelia asked incredulously.

"Yes. I'll be looking over my shoulder for the whole week otherwise." Harry replied

"Hmm…" Ophelia said, deciding her options as she tapped her chin. "Very well. Let's go and make a reputation for ourselves."

The brunette then placed her half-finished piece of toast on her plate and stood up.

"Ophelia," Harry said hesitantly. "Where are you going?"

"To confront them of course," Ophelia replied nonchalantly.

"Ophelia." Harry hissed in warning. "We're supposed to let them confront us."

"Oh, Harry," Ophelia said with a sigh. "I know that. I just wanted to give them a little motivation, that's all."

"Motivation?" Harry inquired. Sometimes Ophelia was unpredictable.

The brunette however waved him off. "You'll see."

Without even a sideways glance, Ophelia left Harry clambering after her as she drifted up the Slytherin table.

"Hello, boys," Ophelia said as she parked herself opposite the figures of Nigel Parkinson, Miles Bletchley, and Cassius Warrington.

Harry swiftly slid in beside her.

"Potter, Black." Nigel Parkinson said cautiously as he gritted his teeth staring at Harry with hate. "Why are you here?"

Ophelia butted in. "For the Pumpkin juice, silly. It's rather tepid further down the table."

Ophelia continued speaking as she reached for the jug to fill up a glass. "I don't know about you boys, but I quite like mine, chilled and refreshing."

"So," Warrington said calmly. "You decided to come all this way for a glass of pumpkin juice?"

"Wouldn't you?" Ophelia rebutted.

"I would," Warrington said sharply. "If I knew it wasn't a lie."

Other Slytherins began to take an interest in the conversation upon hearing Warrington's words.

Miles Bletchley then broke in, temple throbbing with annoyance. "Why are you really here Potter, Black?"

Harry finally caught on to Ophelia's plan and snarked. "Refreshments and fine company. What other way would we start the day?"

"Fine company?" Nigel Parkinson said edgily. "Do you think this is a Potter joke?"

Ophelia responded bitingly. "Not as big a joke as your family names."

The three flinched before Warrington said warningly. "I'd be careful Black, you're not the one we want."

"Yes," Bletchley added angrily. "Step aside and let Potter pay the price when the time comes."

Harry responded coldly. "But you see Bletchley, we are here for a price to be paid. The price you owe me. I won't let you three simply walk away after the grievance you caused."

"Grievance?" Parkinson said in shock. "Your Grandparents killed my Uncle, Miles' father, and Cassius's grandfather."

"Hmm," Harry said. "Usually I'd agree with you except for the small fact that your Uncle along with eleven others and the Dark Lord attacked Potter Cottage unprovoked."

Harry continued dismissively. "Quite pitiful really that ten wizards couldn't stand up against two. It took the Dark Lord himself to deal with my grandparents."

Bletchley snarled at the perceived insult. "My father wasn't a pitiful wizard."

Ophelia cut in piercingly. "Then why did your father get put down alongside the nine other loyal dogs of the Dark Lord?"

Miles Bletchly nearly lashed out at those words but managed to contain himself.

"Those are strong words Potter, Black." The voice of Warrington breaking in crisply. "Do you care to test them?"

Harry and Ophelia were now gripping their wands within their pockets. It seemed their provocation was about to become fruitful.

"You know Cassius..." Harry trailed off. "Surprisingly, I would test those words. Turnabout is fair play after all and I do owe you three a debt."

Harry continued sharply. "I made a promise that I would teach you three the meaning of fear and I'll settle for nothing less after the three of you left me immobilised in my bed with threats of death."

"It seems we're at an impasse." Nigel Parkinson replied coolly.

Warrington spoke up again. "I'll give you credit, Potter. You're braver than I thought, not another scared Fristie. Where would you like to settle this?"

Ophelia answered for him in the most snippet tone she could muster. "Bletchley's father's grave seems sufficient."

The tension around the Slytherin table became palpable as chaos broke loose.

Miles Bletchley's fortitude crumbled upon hearing Ophelia's words, the third-year boy instinctively lashed out with a cutting curse aimed at Ophelia.

Harry, however, anticipated this action from the trio's weakest link in rationality and quickly cast a Pavise Charm with moments to spare.

The Oblong translucent shield deflected the cutting curse.

Parkinson and Warrington wasted no time joining the fray. Twin Blasting Curses sailing from the tips of their wands.

Ophelia gave a grumble as she muttered a Protago. The bright blue shield enveloping a majority of the impact before Harry and Ophelia were blasted off their seats from the backlash.

The occupants of the Great Hall watched in bewilderment as Ophelia and Harry rose from the stone ground of the hall and retaliated with vengeance. It seemed the two first years were done playing around. The magic sent at them was deadly.

Harry and Ophelia's response was quick and efficient.

Ophelia began their spell chain, swiftly casting a duo of Piercing curses while Harry added onto the spell chain with a trio of Exploding curses.

Bletchley, Warrington, and Parkinson could only blink in shock at Harry and Ophelia's spell selection as the three raised shield charms to withstand the unexpected barrage.

For Harry and Ophelia though it was only the tip of their spell repertoire. The two were here to send a message.

Minor variants of the much more complex Shield Breaker charm were hurtled through the air by Harry and Ophelia towards the third year's Protago charms.

The minor Shield Breakers carved through the three Protago charms like a knife through a block of butter.

The three third years had no time to respond as they were now left in the open.

Harry and Ophelia concluded with their finale.

"Afflicto!" Harry snarled, aiming the Bone-Breaking curse at Warrington before adding in its cousin the deboning curse. "Ossio Dispersimus!" Harry continued as the two curse variants bolted through the air, each curse hitting Warrington's left and right leg with a sharp crack! and pop!

The boy screamed in pain as he crumbled to the ground, unable to walk.

Harry then locked onto the form of Parkinson casting a Sickening Curse and responded further with a Suffocating Curse.

Psychological damage was his aim.

"Feromancis! Exanimo!" Harry voiced harshly.

The Sickening spell hit Parkinson square in the chest before the Suffocating curse collided soon after.

Parkinson tried to vomit promptly but with the Suffocating Curse acting in conjunction he couldn't. The boy desperately grasped at his throat trying to release his airway but it was no use. The vomit began to pool.

Harry gave a somber smile as he watched Parkinson beginning to turn purple. The raven-haired boy knew violence was the only language some people understood.

Once Harry thought the boy had suffered enough he gave a sigh and released the Suffocating Curse.

Parkinson gave a grateful heave as his breakfast surged towards the ground. The boy slumping into the surrounding pool in relief.

Harry turned to look at Miles Bletchley. It seemed Ophelia hadn't been idle in the meanwhile.

A Lacero from her wand had mangled the wand hand of Miles before a fiery Cat o' nine tails had arched from her wand and latched onto Bletchley's chest with vicious intent.

Ruthless and utterly brutal Harry thought. Ophelia's spell choice spoke volumes of her character.

Warrington's and Bletchley's screams reverberated in the Great Hall alongside Parkinson's moans.

The occupants of the Great Hall simply watched in disbelief at the vicious display of two first years.

Every single person watched in silence as Harry stepped over the table and approached the three Slytherin third years, the raven-haired boy though small was awe-inspiring in the terror he created. They all feared the worst.

The three Slytherins had crawled up against a wall. Realising the boy they'd tried to scare into silence had flipped the tables on them.

"Do you fear me now?" Harry asked quietly, looking down upon them.

"Yes! You and the girl I fear you." Bletchley cried in fright. "Just make the pain stop, please. We'll leave you alone."

"Yes." Parkinson gasped in agreement. "We'll leave you alone."

Warrington just moaned in pain.

"Good," Harry said coldly. "Since you gave me a week I'll return the favour and relieve your pain. But remember next time you attack I will not be so merciful."

The three just gave desperate nods.

Grimly Harry set to the task while everyone else watched on.

Harry proceeded to cast the counter-curse for the sickening charm for Parkinson and an Anapneo to fully clear his throat before following onto Warrington, casting a Brackium Emendo to heal his broken leg and a numbing charm on the leg where the bones had vanished, Skelegrow would be needed though.

Bletchley was in rough shape however. Ophelia had done a number on him, the deep burns would take a while to heal and the Mangling Curse had damaged his wand hand. Casting a numbing charm on the hand and a Vulnera Sanentur to help with the damaged flesh. Harry then applied a cooling charm on the deep burns to allow for some relief. Further help from the hospital wing however would be needed for three.

All eyes then watched Ophelia as she stepped up upon the Slytherin Table, hands settled on her hips and voiced snappishly.

"This is a message for all of you watching, whoever you are, whether a first-year or seventh year, you'd do well to leave us alone. I think you'll find out quite personally, if push comes to shove. We shove back harder."

Silence still engulfed the Great Hall as all eyes appraised Harry and Ophelia.

The display had been terrifying, to say the least.

Dumbledore gave a weary sigh as he rose from his golden throne. He'd allowed the exchange to play out wanting to see what the two were capable of. Only now it was much to his dismay.

The Headmaster knew, however, he'd have to handle the two of them carefully, he couldn't afford to vilify them as he did with Riddle. He'd be strict and reasonable with their punishment of course, it was self defence after all.

"Harry Potter! Ophelia Black!" Dumbledore thundered. "With me please!"

The Headmaster finished with his outburst then turned to Professor Snape and said genially. "See Mr. Parkinson, Warrington, and Bletchley to the infirmary. They'll need Poppy's care."

Snape just gave a sour nod.

"With me," Dumbledore called again as Harry and Ophelia approached him, leading the two first years out of the Great Hall and away from prying eyes.

Harry gritted his teeth as he and Ophelia exited the Great Hall and followed after Dumbledore. Whilst Ophelia seemed nonchalant about the little display they just caused, Harry suspected they might have overdone it…

It was a daunting feeling to know whatever happened next rested upon Dumbledore's decision.

I await a guardian: Another chapter has been completed! I'm satisfied with its development, the narrative is playing out quite nicely I think but maybe that's just me? Thoughts aside I'm excited to see the progression of the story play out as we continue on the next chapter of Harry Potter and the Odyssey of the Arcane.

A side note: This one is for my reviewers, good or bad. I thank you for your thoughts and as I voiced before a story isn't centred around one viewpoint, a multitude of perspectives are needed to shape the surrounding world. To my viewers as well, as this story gains traction and for those who have had thoughts, I hope you'd consider leaving a review or sending me a pm. It will mean the world honestly, as any discussion or review will only help the revolving narrative. Otherwise you have my deepest regards for coming this far in the story. I hope to see you continuing reading in the next chapter.