Author's Note: I am very glad that Harry's sorting to Hufflepuff went over well with most of you all. Thanks for the reviews and PMs that help me to become a better writer.

Now, this chapter opens the door for Harry in Hufflepuff. There are some devilish things that I have planned for him and I'm sure you will see some hints of what or how he will manipulate things going forward.

Here is my disclaimer that says I do not own anything Harry Potter related. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, except in universe 47837. Probably.

The entrance to the Hufflepuff Dormitory was located a floor below the Great Hall and very close to the kitchens. In fact, the proximity of the two was one of the reasons that every badger knew how to get into the kitchens if they so desired, and that little tidbit was revealed to the first years as they were led past a large painting of a bowl of fruit. For all that anyone had to do to gain admission was to tickle the pear, which would then giggle and laugh before turning into a green door handle.

Past the painting and to the right, there was a corridor that ended with a stone recess in which several rows of barrels were organized.

Harry remained towards the back of the group of first years as a Prefect explained to them how to go about entering their common room, which would then led to their new dormitories. It turned out to be not as fun as entering the kitchens.

Apparently, to gain entrance, all that Harry or anyone else would need to do was to tap the barrel that was located in the middle of the third row from the bottom in the same rhythm that one would say Helga Hufflepuff. If unsuccessful, the person trying to enter would be doused with vinegar.

Naturally, Harry made a mental note to never, ever mess that up.

However, it didn't escape Harry's notice that also tapping in the same rhythm as saying Godric Gryffindor would also allow entry, but he kept his mouth shut.

Once they were inside their new common room, Harry took a look around at what would be his home for the next seven years.

The inside was very… cheerful, as the windows that framed the comfortable and well-worn looking furnishings showed fields of grass on a sunny countryside that were filled with bright, yellow flowers. Since Hufflepuff was the house most associated with the earth, he couldn't say that he was surprised with the choice of decorations but knew that magic had to be involved in some way, shape, or form. Because he was pretty sure that they were underground and he was one-hundred percent positive that it was currently dark outside considering that it was nearly bedtime.

Even though it wasn't exactly his taste in scenery, since he would have much rather preferred to looked upon a forest at twilight or the edge of a lake at the same time, he found that it went with the overall look of the room. Similarly, the yellow and black that trimmed all of the furniture and chairs were not his favorite colors, but it didn't really matter to him what things looked like.

Harry had gone to Hufflepuff for a reason given that he was the Boy Who Lived and if the scenery or decor began to bother him that badly in the future, then he would just use his magic to change it. Problem solved.

From there, the rest of the tour moved rather quickly and thankfully no one made too much of a fuss about his unexpected presence in this house – though there were a few that had gone out of their way to shake his hand. Thankfully for their sakes, as Harry was getting tired of the stares, they were quickly shown to the male dormitory that would house those in his year.

What was interesting was that this year more males had been sorted into Hufflepuff than to any other house. It was a most unusual occurrence, since it was usually Gryffindor or Slytherin that took in the most first-year students.

Ultimately, there were six of them in total, and for the first few minutes they had been a little overwhelmed with the idea of sharing a dorm with the Boy Who Lived; but a few short and calculated words from Harry was all it took for them to think that he was just as normal as they were.

During his time spent in muggle school, Harry had become skilled in diverting attention away from himself. And the lessons that he had learned there had been working well for him so far.

After that, Harry sat back and got to know a little bit about his year mates while he arranged his trunk and got himself organized. Some of the others began to make nervous small talk about who they were and where they came from.

The first to go was Ernie Macmillan. The boy was feisty and opinionated and Harry had a positive opinion about him almost immediately. If nothing else, he would be able to amuse Harry since he acted so similar to the older students from Harry's advanced classes that had liked to entertain others with their antics. Ernie was confident, funny, and at least Harry knew that he would be able to tolerate him.

However, just as quickly as Harry knew that he would not have a problem with Ernie, he had already come to the conclusion that Wayne Hopkins would test his patience.

Every. Single. Day.

He was conceited, proud, and an extremely unlikeable boy that talked on and on about how noble his family was. Harry's first thought was to compare him to a wannabe Malfoy, except without the aristocratic training that taught one how to act in public. Wayne appeared to have no such training in proper decorum.

Harry judged people by what they were capable of and he didn't doubt that Wayne Hopkins would go onto to do absolutely nothing with his life with his over-the-top attitude.

Unfortunately, Wayne Hopkins was not the worst one in their year. There was someone else that Harry was certain would eventually cause him to break his firm grip on his self-control.

Zacharias Smith – who Harry swore had seen Hopkins' pompous spiel and decided to one-up him – went to another level altogether with his douchebaggeryness about how he was a descendent of the legendary witch, Helga Hufflepuff, and therefore how much better that made him than anybody else.

Thankfully, Harry wasn't the only one in the room to roll his eyes. Actions spoke louder than words and Harry wasn't about to hold his breath that anything spectacular awaited that ponce's future. Especially if he kept this up then Harry would be forced to take drastic measures to preserve his sanity.

The next boy to introduce himself was Justin Finch-Fletchley. The smallest boy in their year was quiet, although he could be personable and friendly when the need arose. Harry got the sense that the boy preferred to listen rather than speak.

Interestingly, Harry couldn't help but notice the way that Justin eyed Ernie when the other boy thought that no one was looking.

Which didn't bother Harry in the least since he had been around enough hormonal and pubescent kids his entire life to the point where he had already deduced that he was attracted to other boys as well. It had only been natural for him to entertain thoughts about his own sexuality when he was confronted with the awakenings of it in others.

At any rate, Harry knew exactly whom he would be dealing with in this kid.

Which was more than he could say about the last boy because Neville Longbottom was a complete mystery to him.

Harry was at a total loss for why the boy didn't seem to rub him the wrong way when everything about Neville would have normally driven him up the wall. The boy was meek and unsure of himself and barely was able to speak above a whisper, no doubt because he kept his eyes on the floor in front of him.

Neville was also rather disappointed that the Sorting Hat had placed him here instead of Gryffindor – which he had confided to Harry in a hushed whisper when they had been sitting next to each other during the Welcoming Feast.

Harry suspected that the Sorting Hat had probably placed him here so that Neville could find confidence so that he believed in himself, if he had to make a guess. The boy needed all the help he could get in that department; he didn't trust himself at all!

Still, Harry couldn't put his finger on why he didn't seem to mind Neville's company. For he had already discovered on their boat ride into the castle that he could be in the other boy's presence while he was crying and still not be bothered. Which was altogether unheard of for him. Harry's experiences in life had demonstrated to him that tears showed weakness and he could never afford to give someone that much power over him.

In the end, all he could really do was to wait and see what the future held, but his gut instinct – which only a month ago he had learned to associate that tingly feeling as magic – told him that the other boy was all right for some peculiar reason.

Of course, when it was Harry's turn to talk, he played his part perfectly and managed to further divert any of their remaining interest in the Boy Who Lived away.

With that out of the way, Harry spent the rest of the evening in his bed that had a yellow and black comforter with a large badger embroidered on top. All of his belongings were safely stowed underneath the wooden frame that held his mattress and his bottomless satchel was on his nightstand where he selected a small book to read as he settled into his first night in the castle.

The next morning Hufflepuff's Head of House, Pomona Sprout, was present in the common room and greeted both the male and female first years as they came down from their dormitories. The older years that trickled down with them just headed past on their way towards the Great Hall for breakfast, though a few waved in a friendly and excited manner.

"Welcome to Huffelpuff," Sprout practically sang to them, eyeing each of her new badgers as if they were the most precious thing in existence.

The woman, who Harry found to have an extremely cheerful disposition, was of average height with a round figure and plump cheeks. For a moment, Harry questioned if there would ever be a moment where he saw the woman frown because he didn't think that there was anything that would ever be able to get her spirits down.

"Now, Friday's are normally school days, however, we have found that over the years it is often better to give you a few days to settle in before classes start. Therefore, you have today and the weekend to go and explore the castle and prepare yourself for the term that starts Monday."

There was a palpable feeling of excitement in the air that they would have three days to do as they wished without having to worry about classes just yet. However, Harry would use this additional time to amend some of his plans now that he had been sorted to Hufflepuff.

It would also give him more time to prepare for his classes and practice his magic with a wand.

When the woman saw that there were no questions or comments she continued.

"Now, I want you to be aware - just in case should you need anything - that in addition to the fifth-year Prefects who showed you to the dormitory last night, there are sixth and seventh-year Prefects that would be more than happy to assist you as well."

Some of the first years nodded in recognition of the older students who had introduced themselves during the tour last night.

She smiled when she saw this; Pomona loved how she could depend on her puffs to be there for one other.

"Additionally, we do things a little differently in Hufflepuff than in the other houses. As such, each of you has been assigned a third or fourth-year student to help you out during your first year and beyond. We call this the buddy system and while it provides you with someone to look up to, it gives me the opportunity to see which students are Prefect material."

While the other first years looked pleased with this since it was such a Hufflepuff thing to do, Harry's face registered the smallest of shocks before his mask was able to take control again.

'You have to be kidding me,' he thought to himself. 'Do they really think we are that incapable?'

But Sprout had kept on talking and had then assigned them all a buddy.

Harry discovered that his was to be some third-year named Cedric Diggory, and that their new buddies would introduce him or herself in the coming days.

Harry sent a silent prayer in the hopes to anyone who may or not be listening – something that he rarely did since he believed that he controlled his own destiny – would not allow Cedric to be an idiot. If only for the health and safety of the other boy, of course.

He could only foresee the problems that would happen if Cedric were anything like Zacharias Smith, because Harry was certain that he would have a very hard time indeed in not using his magic to correct the situation permanently within the first five minutes. Which probably would not end well for Cedric and only serve to make things harder on him in trying to blend into the crowd.

As he was imagining the different ways in which he was going to handle whomever this Cedric person was depending on how he acted when they met, Sprout finished her little speech.

"Also my door is always open, but I encourage you to see if you can work through your problem before going to your buddy, a Prefect, or to me. My puffs are known for their work ethic," she said proudly, puffing out her own chest with pride.

However, it left Harry feeling like he was surrounded by small children who couldn't think for themselves; he had gotten used to being around older students that were more capable and treated as such.

But instead of frowning, he forced a smile on his face like the rest of the other kids. He hoped that not all of the teachers would coddle them like this; he would have to keep his most patient mask very close to the surface if that were the case. Or develop a new one altogether.

Professor Sprout finished with what probably counted for her as a very stern warning with a menacing stare; however, because of her jolly nature it came across more as a look that a sad stuffed animal would have given.

"Puffs are also known for their loyalty. I will be most displeased should I see someone slacking off or turning their backs on another student in need."

It was difficult for Harry to hold in his snort. She was kind to a fault, but at the same time he supposed that he would be able to tolerate her. The woman would never expect anything other than what Harry showed her and that worked perfectly for him.

Of course, her sunny disposition couldn't be contained for long and she soon began smiling at them again before sending them on their way.

The first years had then gone onto breakfast before making sense of their new home.

Though Harry had wanted to spend the majority of his time in the library after his group of first years had found it during their exploration of the castle, he decided that for now it would be better for him to be seen as somewhat sociable.

He had all year to get intimate with the library and everything that it contained but it was very hard to dispel first impressions and he wanted people to see him as amicable but reserved. That was the combination that he had found to be most effective at blending in.

With that in mind, the first part of Harry's first weekend at Hogwarts was spent following along as his group explored some of the castle and its grounds. After the library, the lake was by far Harry's second favorite place. Its surface was unnaturally calm and there was something about it that just drew him in.

As they went from one place to another, the group of first-year girls occasionally joined them and together they tried to take in the rest of the wonders around them.

And Aside from a few giggles that were sent his way when they had first met, most of the girls soon became interested in the bravado of Wayne Hopkins and Zacharias Smith.

By Saturday night though, the group had splintered and Harry was left with Justin Finch-Fletchley and Neville Longbottom.

Which relieved Harry to be honest. It had been taxing on his patience to be in such a large group and this was much better for his mental state. And though this group was unusual, Harry knew that he could make this work to his advantage. Remaining in the background would be even easier if he were among others that didn't stand out and he would at least be able to stomach their friendship.

Growing up, Harry had found that he had never really needed that much human interaction to fulfill himself and he had been more than a little apprehensive at the prospect of having to be more outgoing at Hogwarts.

He had met few people that he actually enjoyed being around or looked forward to speaking with, and none of them had been his age. All in all however, he considered this to be much better than he expected and he was even able to prepare a little more for his classes while his group chatted intermittently in a corner of their common room on Saturday night.

However, after listening to more of their stories throughout the weekend as they got to know each other a little bit better, a few things struck him as odd.

The first was that Neville had been raised by his grandmother.

In fact, neither Harry nor Neville had been the only ones to be raised by a relative in their year. For Susan Bones, who had been friendly but reserved in a similar manner as Justin, had been brought up by her father's sister.

While Susan was able to talk openly about the fact that her parents had died during the war and that she had been sent to live with Amelia Bones, who also happened to be the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Neville wasn't able to tell them why he lived with his grandmother.

The news about Amelia and the role that she had within the Ministry had been an unexpected boon and Harry was certain that he would remain on friendly terms with Susan based on that fact alone. Even though he had no use of her at the moment, he didn't know what the future held and it was just prudent to think ahead.

In hearing about Neville's situation, Harry politely moved the conversation away from the other boy's home life. Which was actually very difficult since the mention of Neville's grandmother had caused Harry to again become interested as to why the woman, now known as Augusta Longbottom, insisted on wearing something so dreadful as a vulture for a hat. It's just didn't make any sense in Harry's mind.

With the spotlight off of Neville, Harry had then learned that Justin was a muggleborn, and it was during this exchange that something clicked in his brain. Throughout the course of the weekend, Harry had been a little surprised to learn that not everyone had seemed to think it necessary to glance at a textbook ahead of time. Justin appeared to be one of the few that had, but what had really gotten Harry's attention was the observation that no one aside from a muggleborn, so far as he could tell, had indicated that they had taken a look at their class books.

True, it was a small sample size, but it got Harry wondering if it meant anything. Was there a difference between those raised in a magical household and those that weren't?

That thought festered in Harry's mind while Justin finished telling him and Neville about his home life, and at the next pause his curiosity won out and he shared his thoughts with the group.

Though, it quickly became apparent from Neville's ramblings that those from a magical household often had minimal prior education with magic. Neville had also alluded that those from wealthier families occasionally hired a tutor to teach their children about the magical world but never about using magic specifically.

It was ultimately revealed that the reason for this was that most families were wary about their children using magic before the age of eleven when they went to Hogwarts, lest they get into trouble for using it. Underage magic was a serious thing and that was why wands could only be sold to eleven-year olds. Although, Neville could not actually tell him why that was the case.

So Harry had then asked if it were possible – theoretically speaking of course – for a young witch or wizard to ever be taught how to use magic without a wand, though Harry conveniently left the part out about it being unable to be detected.

However, Neville had instantly shaken his head before going into a surprisingly detailed explanation about wandless magic, as it was called, being very difficult to master and that it was only taught to sixth years and above. Even then, he had emphasized, that many people just couldn't get the hang of it because it was just too difficult and so never bothered keeping with it.

Harry kept his mask in place and had nodded along to these facts that he was learning while on the inside he was smiling very widely. He was even more extraordinary than he had thought! But he couldn't honestly say that this new information surprised him that much; it had almost become commonplace over the years for him to discover some new area that he excelled at.

The new knowledge, however, did provide him with an opening to spend some time by himself.

After being educated on things that were commonplace to those raised in the wizarding world, Harry had then informed the group that he would spend Sunday reading up on these things but that he would look forward to starting classes with them on Monday. He even suggested they should study together, if only to have some outwardly visible social interaction.

The others readily agreed. Neville had then decided that maybe he should at least take a look at what was coming up in his classes while Justin got a curious look in his eye in response to Harry's musings about things that were different in the wizarding world.

In truth, Harry had wanted to finally test out some of the spells that he had read about. He had been waiting over a month to finally use his wand and he couldn't wait any more.

So on Sunday, Harry ventured to a place far away from the main hustle and bustle of the castle. It was on the same floor that the Hufflepuff Dormitories were on but on the other side of the castle.

In fact, Harry was sure that he was in an unused part of Hogwarts because of the layers of dust and cobwebs that coated everything. The only light came from torches that lined the halls and from the small windows inside of the various rooms that did a better job at keeping light out than they did at letting it in.

It was perfect and Harry chose a room that had a wide space for him to practice in. Satisfied with his new surroundings, Harry took his wand out of his pocket and instantly felt the hum of power radiating outward from his chest; his magic was just yearning to be used.

Wasting no time, he held his wand in front of him and started with the most basic spell that he had read about so far.

"Lumos," he uttered while envisioning his magic turning into a bright light that would illuminate the entire room.

However, he was not prepared for how easy it would be compared to wandless magic and the sheer radiance of his first spell caused him to have to shield his eyes with his left hand.

If this was how other spells were going to be than it was a good thing that he was practicing them now. It would have been difficult to explain at first just how powerful his magic really was.

He ended the spell and refocused himself. As he was just about to utter Lumos again while imagining a softer glow from the tip of his wand, the most unusual thing happened. It was if the wand had a mind of its own and it began to glow in the exact manner that Harry had wanted it to.

At first, his shock had made it difficult to think, but his brain eventually reminded him that this was what Neville had called a nonverbal spell.

Using his wand had felt so natural to him and it was far easier for him to direct his magic that he hadn't even needed to utter a word. But Harry wasn't that surprised that he could do such a thing after thinking it over for a minute.

True, this was very advanced magic that he was performing, except that he had been performing the more difficult wandless magic his entire life. From there, it was easy to see how his transition to using a wand had made accessing his magic far more convenient and smooth than it would have been for anyone else. Usually, people went the other way and first learned how to cast with a wand before moving onto nonverbal spells before ultimately culminating with wandless magic.

In the end it made perfect sense to him and Harry spent the rest of the afternoon getting accustomed to using his wand while pronouncing the spell correctly. The process of getting comfortable with not thinking too much about what he wanted his magic to do was something that was difficult for Harry and even by dinnertime, he still had trouble with not having the magic flow through his wand before he was able to say the spell.

While immensely pleased that he was this advanced, he knew that using a wand correctly for someone of his age was paramount to his success with not standing out immediately; because Harry was not going to highlight his abilities at first. It made more sense for him to slowly get better with time until no one would think it atypical or abnormal for him to be so superior with what he could do. They would have been desensitized to his greatness over time and he would be able to achieve his goals – whatever they may be at that time – far more easier than he could if people immediately started to expect wonders from him.

As he walked towards the Great Hall for dinner that evening, he committed to spending as much time as he needed in making sure that his wand wouldn't give him away.

With that resolution in place, he planned on getting in a few more hours of practice after dinner.

However, while he was eating his fill - which had involved several repeated helpings of his favorites since that had been the most magic he had ever used - Cedric Diggory sat down next to him and he suddenly found himself with other plans.

As a matter of fact, all of the older buddies sat down next to their assigned first year that night. However, they had been encouraged by Professor Sprout to call them their big brother or sister.

Harry was not pleased with this development but there wasn't really anything that he could do about it.

'Amicable but reserved,' he told himself over and over again.

The only thing that had made his change of plans easier to stomach was that he had learned quite quickly that the third year that had been assigned to him was head and shoulders above the other students acting as a big brother or big sister.

Cedric was capable, intelligent, and handsome – which made it very easy for Harry to sit there in the common room that night and chat with him about the upcoming year. It would have been a lot harder had Harry gotten the person assigned to Neville, which he knew would not help his year mate in any way, shape, or form because it was hard for the blind to lead the blind.

From Cedric, Harry learned more about the professors that taught the various classes and what he could expect in the coming weeks. By the end of the night, Harry was actually glad that Cedric had been sent his way for he learned that very little magic was actually taught with a wand during the first few classes – which helped him to breath a lot easier. He would have plenty of time to perfect his control of magic!

Cedric had then ended the evening by informing Harry that he could come to him at any time and for any reason. Harry had just smiled and thanked him for his time and made a slight show to make the other boy feel like he had been useful. Even though he wasn't sure that he would take Cedric up on his offer, at least he had an option in case he wanted information quickly on something.

After that, Harry retired to his dorm and prepared himself for his first classes.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to drift off to sleep, Neville started to have a nervous breakdown.

It was fortunate that Neville and Harry were on one side of the room and so the agitated breathing that had disturbed Harry owing to its close proximity hadn't yet woken the boys on the other side of the room.

Curious as to what had started this, he turned over and saw that Neville was hugging his knees and rolling back on forth on top of his bed with a panicked expression on his face.

"Neville!" Harry whispered, having no idea why he cared this much about this other boy but rationalizing it away to instead think about it was unlikely for him to sleep until Neville calmed down.

When Neville didn't answer him, Harry tiptoed the few feet to his bed and sat down in front of him.

"Neville!" he tried again with no response.

Knowing that sooner or later this would cause the other boys to wake, and wanting to make sure that he himself was also well rested for his first day of class, Harry decided to chance a little magic.

Carefully, he focused two tendrils of his magic at Neville. The first was aimed at his magical core and, expecting another fight like had what happened with Ron, prepared himself for a battle of wills. However, the moment that the tips of his magic touched Neville's, Harry was surprised to see the other boy's magic defer instantly to his. The rest of Harry's magic then quickly circled around Neville's and Harry was then able to quickly take control of his mind.

It didn't take him long to sift through what Neville was feeling since his thoughts were very close to the surface and he found that Neville was in an alarmed state with the thought that he was going to do so poorly that he was going to get kicked out of school.

Which was ridiculous in Harry's mind because it was easy for him to feel the strength of Neville's magic that, while not even close to the power of his, was far greater than that of Ron's. Neville's magic was whole but neither warm nor cold so far as Harry could tell. Ron's was practically chilly by comparison.

Again, not really knowing why he cared about the other boy and just wanting to get to sleep at a reasonable hour, he slipped Neville a few thoughts to focus on.

'You will be fine. You have magic. You can do magic. Go to sleep.'

Harry then released Neville's mind and magical core and immediately the other boy drifted off. Harry wasn't sure how long it would keep but he climbed into bed and hoped that it would at least hold the boy's nerves off until morning.

Surprisingly, over the next few days, Neville seemed a lot calmer and once or twice Harry had caught him whispering the words that Harry had given him. Which was appropriate since he hadn't fully taken control over the other boy but had just given him some strong encouragement.

The change in Neville was great because it allowed Harry to focus on his classes, which Harry had been very excited about.

There first class was Transfiguration and it would be one of his favorite classes because he already knew how to imagine his will. Also, it had pleased Harry to no end that he had been able to briefly discover this branch of magic on his own while turning a pen into a pencil, and he was sure that given a little more time he would have been able to figure out the principles of it. Like how Transfiguration only worked between objects of similar size and from there the only limit was your imagination.

His one concern however was in doing the transfiguration silently since it was so easy for his imagination to take control and he vowed to practice each lesson's assignment the night before so that he didn't slip.

He also thought that McGonagall was a very good teacher and liked that she brooked no childishness in her classroom. She was concise and thoughtful with her explanations and he knew that he had been right to like her.

However, it hadn't escaped Harry's notice about the apparent contradiction to what McGonagall had called the most important rule of changing one thing into another. While he had been greatly intrigued by the notion of becoming an Animagus and had quickly placed it on his list of things to learn, he couldn't help but question how going from a human to a house cat satisfied the size requirement.

That thought lingered in his mind as they made their way to their next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was a kind of combination class in which they would use spells and charms – even plants – to keep the Dark Forces away. Harry wasn't sure what the Dark Arts meant since most things weren't inherently good or bad, and the fact that he had left the class still questioning its purpose had left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

It didn't help that Professor Quirrell was as incapable of a teacher as he had ever had. The man could barely hold his wand, and had even dropped it in response to a shadow. A shadow!

However, Harry's mood improved drastically after Charms. In fact, he was positive that this would be his favorite class. He loved the subtle difference of this branch of magic and the nature of the spells that it used that separated Charms from all of the other forms. It was quite different when one got right down to it.

For example, the very nature of magic itself was all about using your will to make something come to life.

Transfiguration was based on using your imagination to guide your magic to take shape while Charms took a different approach.

Often, a student first found success with Charms since it was easier for a child to cast the first few spells since they simply had to believe that they could do something. However, as the wonderfully competent Professor Flitwick tried to get across to them, Charms as a whole past the O.W.L. year became much more advanced.

While Transfiguration was all about changing what something is, such as turning a rock into a chair, Charms was all about changing what something did. Like turning a chair into a rocking chair. With Charms, one could add or subtract features to an object, person, or thing and its uses were only limited by what an individual could think of.

In essence, a witch or wizard's magic was giving something a new purpose and, in Harry's mind, the possibilities were endless. Plus, the size of the object didn't need to be taken into account like it needed to be in Transfiguration. Allegedly.

The subject required a great deal more than simply a person's imagination to come to life, for it required a witch or wizard to add their desire or want for the object to do something else as well. The charm wouldn't work if the magic user didn't give it a new purpose. Which was a very difficult concept when the caster got right down to it, which explained why fewer witches and wizards went on to master it. Except that Harry had instantly gotten the subtle distinction and couldn't wait to see what its limits were, for he was pretty sure that Charms didn't have any.

The class had kept him in such good spirits while he managed to stay in the background and attend the rest of his classes with Justin and Neville, who soon found themselves as the outcasts of their year. In fact, everything was going so well that Harry had a terrible feeling that it was going too well.

And everything came to a head in his last class of the week, Potions. Which unfortunately had been the one that he had been looking forward to the most.

Harry was positive that Potions was going to be very similar to the chemistry classes that he used to take. Instead of elements and atoms, there were magical ingredients that had unique properties that behaved according to well-defined rules, such as what they could or could not combine with.

Sure, there would be a lot to learn but there was a beauty in how specific everything was. For if you had two hydrogen atoms and combined it with one atom of oxygen then you had one molecule of water. From what Harry could recall from his classes – which was everything since he hardly ever forgot anything that he had properly learned – a molecule of water had very specific and useful properties based on its arrangements of electrons that muggle scientists were sure had permitted life an easier time in developing.

With magic now in the picture, Harry wondered if that was still true but at least he would find the next seven years enjoyable as he learned about how potion ingredients were classified and what their properties were when combined with different things.

Except that it was abundantly clear to everyone from the moment the class began that Severus Snape – one of the youngest Potion Masters in the world – did not like Harry Potter.

The class started off like all of the others had with the Snape taking roll, except that the classroom was in the dungeons and so people tended to wear their robes to keep the chill at bay.

However, when Snape got to Harry's name he looked up and the man's black eyes bored into his own radiant green ones.

"Ah, our new … badger," Snape said with the smallest of smirks.

Harry got the distinct impression that he was being made fun of and he didn't know why. He was sure that he had never met this man before.

Then Snape continued on with roll while Harry noticed Neville becoming more and more jittery with each passing second. The other boy's legs were now knocking into his as he sat there doing his best to keep his respectful mask firmly in place.

Harry knew that eventually Neville would begin to distract him if he got any worse, and since they had sat in the back of the room – which Harry always preferred since he could take in everything that happened in the class – he decided to chance a little more magic with Neville.

He sent out two very small tendrils of his magic at Neville and, like before, Neville became noticeably calmer when he touched his magical core and then his mind.

'You will be fine. You have magic. You can do magic.'

The boy's legs had then slowed in their shaking and while Harry would have preferred not chancing this type of magic in front of Snape, he felt like he didn't have much of a choice either.

Besides, he was helping Neville in a good way; the fact that it made himself able to focus better on Snape was just an added bonus! At least that is what Harry told himself to rationalize subjugating another person's behavior to his will.

Harry then turned his full attention back to Snape just as the man had finished attendance and placed his sheet down before looking over the class with his dark eyes until they came to settle on Harry again.

He then went into this wordy spiel about how his class was better than all of the other classes and then listed some of the things that they could do if they put in a lot of work. Except that he had then practically told them that they were all too stupid to understand any of it and that he didn't have much hope that they ever would.

Snape sure knew how to be motivational.

Harry thought the man only made it harder for himself by scaring off students so early on. Of course very few were going to put in a decent attempt now after being told that they didn't have a chance.

"Potter!" the man said quickly after he had finished calling them a dunderhead for the second time.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry hated that he had no idea. He would have liked nothing better than to answer this man but it wasn't like he had been able to read everything about the subject in only a month while also learning about the Boy Who Lived and Voldemort.

"I don't know, sir." He said painfully.

In fact, he thought this was the first time that he had ever uttered those words aloud.

"Tut, tut," Snape mocked him.

Harry's mask was hanging on by a thread.

"Let's try again, shall we? Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Snape's smirk curled even higher in anticipation that Harry wouldn't be able to answer him.

Harry wanted to match Snape's tone, but he thought that responding with 'in my pocket' would be in bad form.

Because he did have a bezoar on him since only an idiot would have gone to a school with the children who used to serve the man that you had allegedly defeated without some protection.

And he wasn't an idiot.

A bezoar stone was the first thing that he had ever owl-ordered after learning that it could protect a person from most poisons.

"In the stomach of a goat, sir," he responded as respectfully as he could. His demeanor was helped by the fact that he had known the answer this time.

Snape's mean grin faltered somewhat and his eyes narrowed at Harry. All that did was to convince Harry that this man cared nothing about education because that was not how a teacher was supposed to act. The only thing that Harry could do was to make it through this class without unleashing pain at the man and then hope that one day he would be able to find out the reason as to why this man hated him. Because Harry was certain that he did.

"A lucky guess!" Snape snapped, becoming even more of a prick in Harry's eyes.

"Final question: what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

'Make it through the class without killing him,' Harry said a few times to himself.

"I don't know," he then uttered for the second time in his life.

"Pity… thought you wouldn't open a book before coming to class, eh?"

Whether Snape knew it or not his fate was already decided. It was one thing to hold whatever grudge this man obviously had for Harry, but it was quite another to try and belittle his intelligence.

Harry made a decision right then and there that it didn't matter how long it took, for he would learn everything that there was to know about 'the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.'

Even if it was to only prevent the man from ever insulting his mind again.

But the man reminded him too much of Vernon to get off that easily. In fact, he was worse than Vernon or even Petunia. No one made him feel intellectually inferior. No one.

Harry didn't care if he had to wait ten, twenty, or even thirty years; the man would pay for what he had just done. For Severus Snape had just become his first enemy.

As such, the only way that Harry was able to get through the rest of the class was to imagine all the ways in which he would teach Snape a very painful lesson.

Would love to know what you are thinking! I totally think Hufflepuff would have a buddy system and I can't wait to see how Harry uses it in the future.

Also, RIP to Alan Rickman.