It was Harry's first time heading up to the castle in a 'normal' way, at least at the start of term; it was tradition that the first-years took the boats back and forth, he remembered, though Harry supposed he could just fly anyway.
It was a lot shorter of a route this way, and the invisible horses pulling the carriages moved fairly quickly, so they reached the front doors after only a few minutes. Professor Flitwick was there waiting for them, and ushered them in with a smile.
Harry looked back as the last of the returning students went through the door and saw as Professor Flitwick closed them, probably so that Hagrid could knock on the doors as part of the Sorting Ceremony, then took his place at the Gryffindor table.
"What subjects did you pick?" he asked Percy, interested.
"Oh, well-" Percy began. "I could have done any of them. I think all of them would have been too much work, though, so I've done Arithmancy, Runes, History, all the wanded classes of course, and Potions."
Harry was impressed – that sounded like seven classes, unless he'd forgotten one, and as far as he knew that was quite a lot at NEWT level – and said so.
Percy seemed quite pleased by that, saying that he did his best, though he wasn't quite sure yet where he'd go after finishing Hogwarts. Harry suggested maybe doing something like a 'gap year', which was a phrase he'd heard, but when Percy asked what that was Harry had to admit he wasn't really sure how to explain what it meant properly.
Most of the Professors were already here, though there was still an empty chair where the Divination teacher was supposed to sit, and Professor Lockhart (as he was now) was talking with Professor Sinistra.
For some reason, Professor Sinistra didn't seem very impressed.
Then the doors opened, and a wave of whispers and stares rolled out as Professor McGonagall strode in at the head of the first-years.
Harry supposed that maybe some people hadn't gone to see the sphinx – whatever her name was – and June was someone he hadn't even heard any rumours about on the train. So that was interesting.
"So, I'm not really clear on this," said Cormac, who Harry remembered was the current Gryffindor Seeker. "Why is there a wolf in the first years?"
"She's not really a wolf," Harry replied. "Or not properly. We talked last year, she's descended from werewolves, and I think we decided the right word was 'warg'."
"Wait, she can talk?" Cormac asked.
Fred snorted. "Mate, you're asking that question to a dragon."
Other Fred nodded. "Yeah, she's probably more erudite than that Goyle bloke."
The discussion went a little quiet, and the Sorting Hat broke into song.
This time it was all about judging by what was inside, and how that was a thing he did very well, and how Slytherin sought the crafty and clever, Hufflepuff the close-knit and loyal, Gryffindor the brave and bold and Ravenclaw the witty and wise.
Harry wondered whether he couldn't think of two alliterative words for what Hufflepuff stood for.
Then the Sorting began, as Professor McGonagall read out the first name from her long scroll (who went to Hufflepuff).
A boy called Colin was the first new Gryffindor, and sat down as close to Harry as he could get. He looked like he had a lot of questions, and Harry wondered if it was a bad sign that he'd sat down next to the Twins.
Though, speaking of which, Tyler and Anne were twins as well, so that might make things confusing. Actually, Parvati and Padma were twins too, but for some reason they didn't come across nearly as Twin-ish as Fred and George did. Maybe it was that they'd never tried to confuse anyone about which one was which… as far as Harry knew.
Several of the first-years had been sorted while Harry wasn't paying attention, so they were onto F, and there was a bit of a hush as June padded up to the three-legged stool and inspected it.
"Do I have to sit on here?" she asked, looking back at Professor McGonagall.
"You do not, Miss Forrester," the Professor told her. "For some reason everyone else prefers to, though."
June picked up the hat with a paw and put it on her head, putting that same paw on the stool once she was done, and there was a pause. Harry could see the hat mumbling to itself, and then it announced that June was to go to HUFFLEPUFF!
Hagrid applauded up at the head table, and Harry did the same.
When 'Harper, Henry' went to Slytherin, Harry remembered with a feeling not unlike dread that the school song was going to be sung at the end of the meal.
Wondering if he could get some cotton wool or something, he watched as student after student was sorted – there was an airy blonde girl called 'Lovegood, Luna' who went to Ravenclaw, then the Sorting went through M and N and O and P. There was nobody with an initial of Q, then there was an R (who came to Gryffindor) and after that Professor McGonagall called forward 'Sanura, Tanisis'.
The sphinx walked forwards, uncertainty written on her very human face, and placed the hat on her head. Her leonine tail twitched a bit, then stilled, and Harry wondered how the Sorting Hat was reacting to a third non-human in just two years.
After some consideration, the Sorting Hat announced in a booming voice that Tanisis was to go to RAVENCLAW, and she breathed a sigh of relief before loping over to take a somewhat awkward seat on the bench.
Harry noticed that June had basically just ignored the bench and sat at one end of the table, then looked back at Professor McGonagall – no new name had come, and there was nobody on the stool.
"Headmaster?" the Professor asked. "I may need some assistance with this one."
Dumbledore rose to his feet, and gave a cheerful wave to the massed students as he walked around the high table to join Professor McGonagall.
"Ah, I see," he said, into the quiet of the hall. "Yes, those are katakana. Quite a surprise, but I suppose it should be expected."
He said something more quietly, and Professor McGonagall tapped the parchment with her wand.
"Smith, Anna," she called.
Anna (or Anne) and her twin brother both turned out to go to Slytherin, in her case after about twenty seconds of consideration and in his case almost instantly, and Ron frowned.
"How come he went to Slytherin?" he asked. "He seemed nice."
"Blaise is nice," Harry pointed out. "So are Daphne and Tracey. And I don't know most of the other Slytherins very well, so a lot of them are probably nice too."
"Yeah, but that's just anecdotal evidence," Ron dismissed.
"Where did you learn that word?" Neville said, blinking. "That doesn't seem very like you, Ron."
Ron looked torn between being offended by that and answering the question, and eventually admitted that it had been in a book.
"Hey, I think it's great," Harry told him.
Ginny was the last to be sorted, going to Gryffindor in seconds, and Professor Dumbledore stood up as soon as the three-legged sorting stool was gone.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, one and all!" he said. "And a very warm welcome to all of our first-years, who I hope will fit in well in their new Houses. If they do not, well, I am sure the Sorting Hat would be willing to accept the blame."
A rustle of chuckles ran through the hall.
"Before we begin the feast, I would like to say a few words," he went on. "But we can't always get what we want."
He sat down, and the feast appeared.
Harry had forgotten just how good Hogwarts food was, especially during the feasts. The House-Elves at the castle always seemed to be so good at putting the flavours together, including in making things with flavours he'd never considered before (like mixing garlic and rust, which worked very well).
It did mean that some of the meals came with little notes that said they were for Harry only, and about ten minutes into the feast Harry decided to check to make sure that the same thing was going on for June and Tanisis. The reaction he got at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables was a little odd at first, since it was so common for people to stick to their own table, but once he explained what he was there for everyone agreed that it was a good idea.
It turned out that June largely just ate meat. As she explained, werewolf-descended or not she was a wolf, and that meant she got everything she needed from meat (and that some human-normal flavours like chocolate or coffee were things she knew were dangerous to her – which got quite a lot of the Hufflepuffs gasping at her misfortune). She said there were some non-meat things she liked, though, and in particular there was a dish of carrots cooked underneath a roasted chicken which tasted exotic and interesting.
Tanisis was a little more varied in what she could eat, and was deep in a conversation with several of the Ravenclaw upper-years (including Penelope, who was in Prefect-mode) about what it was she could or couldn't eat. Meat was necessary, indeed bones and what she politely called 'lights' – which Harry realized meant innards – were something she needed as part of her diet, but not in huge amounts and they could be quite spread out. So long as that was taken into account, she could eat most things humans could, though apparently she didn't like broccoli.
At all.
Back at the table, Harry found that the new first-year Colin couldn't restrain himself any more from asking all sorts of questions. Much to Harry's pleasure, though, a lot of them weren't anything like the questions he'd been barraged with last year – Colin wanted to know what it felt like to be a dragon, and Harry didn't mind talking about that a bit.
About how it was really quite nice, because he didn't ever get hurt much; about how he could fly on his own wings, which was something that he could thoroughly recommend. About how writing was kind of difficult, and a lot of other things built mostly for humans were a bit awkward, but having a tail was nice.
Harry was actually thinking idly about finding a way to attach his wand to his tail, so he could try casting spells while still on all fours – holding it in his paw did work, but it meant he had to be careful whenever he put his foot down.
Colin was also really interested in asking about what class was like, and Harry tried his best to summarize them as succinctly as possible and include some tips about what he'd learned – things like the basics of note-taking, or how it was best to do your homework sooner rather than later.
After that, though, Harry caught up with the others in second year (like Seamus, who seemed remarkably okay with the fact that all four of the other boys in Gryffindor in his year were part of the same circle of friends and he was thus ending up with all four non-Hermione girls) and with some of the upperclassmen and women. When pudding came around, he tried a jam tart, and was a little surprised to discover that there were all-new foods that hadn't been around last year – like a fudge torte, and an experimental pasta-and-chocolate combination that sounded sort of like someone had got the recipes mixed up.
Tasted nice, though.
As people seemed to be getting to the end of the meal, Harry got up to walk over to the high table. He waved, to get Professor Dumbledore's attention, and the Headmaster looked up with a smile.
"Ah, Harry," he said. "Tell me, how have you been enjoying your second first day at Hogwarts?"
"It's been interesting, Sir," Harry replied. "Do you mind if I bring you something after the end of the feast? I think it's in my room at the moment, but I want to give it to you as soon as possible."
Professor Dumbledore inspected his plate, using his knife to turn over a few peppermint wrappers, then found one that still contained a peppermint and lifted it out.
"Ah," he said, putting it to the side. "Marvellous. And yes, Harry, of course you may. The password is currently 'Percy Pig', and you may visit whenever you wish so long as it is before eleven in the evening; after that time I will be getting my beauty sleep."
His eyes twinkled. "As I am sure you can agree, I am rather in need of some beauty sleep."
"I don't think I can tell either way, Sir," Harry said. "Thank you."
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, Harry," Professor Dumbledore told him. "I always have time for my students, though how much time does rather depend on my schedule."
He checked a silver pocket watch, and nodded to himself. "You had better get back to your seat, Harry, I believe I have an announcement to make."
Harry walked back to his seat, and the first thing that happened when he reached it was that Colin asked what they'd been talking about. The second thing, however, was Professor Dumbledore standing up and clearing his throat.
"I am sure that you have all enjoyed a long meal after a long train journey," he said. "I regret that we could not make the meal as long as the train journey, but Professor Vector informs me that if we did that then the feast would end tomorrow, and that would never do."
He looked around the room. "For those of us who are new to the castle, I wish to inform you that the forbidden forest is forbidden – both during term time and otherwise. The only exception is when you actually live there, and I am delighted to say that this exception has actually come up this year as a result of one of our new students."
Harry was fairly sure he knew who Dumbledore meant, and the Headmaster went on. "To those of you who were here last year, I will pass on that the right-hand corridor on the third-floor is no longer out of bounds; I would however commend to you the school motto, which states that one should never tickle a sleeping dragon. It may be helpful. To those of you who were not here last year, I will note that if you see a dragon around the castle, please take note of what it is wearing."
That led to a rustle of conversation, and Professor Dumbledore elaborated. "If it is wearing a long yellow scarf, that is our school mascot who goes by the name of Nora. If it is wearing glasses and robes and is only perhaps three yards long, that is Mr. Potter. If neither of these is true, only then should you inform a teacher."
Dumbledore's list of notices went on a little longer, including making it clear that items which were forbidden were in fact forbidden, and he asked that all pupils please keep in mind any differences in physical ability when dealing with other students.
Then it came time for the school song, and Harry put his paws over his ears and his head under his wings.
It helped, a little.
Everyone made their way to their dorm rooms after the feast, and Harry was no exception – following the now-familiar route through the castle, odd as it was, that got them to the Gryffindor common room faster than just taking the grand staircase.
There was a brief interlude when Lord Ridley made a very determined attempt to slay him, but Harry didn't really bother giving the ghost enough attention to make him think he was having an effect.
Then Percy gave the password – it was still Percy who did that, for some reason, even though he was now the sixth year Prefect instead of the fifth year one – and Harry did his best to commit Fortes Fortuna to memory, because he'd need to use it again tonight.
"At least we won't be at the top of the staircases this time," Ron said hopefully. "That is how it works, right? We move down a floor?"
"Not at all, Ronald," Percy told him. "You stay on the same floor you're assigned in first year. That means the new first years will be on the first floor of the dorm room staircases."
"Oh, great..." Ron groaned. "That's not really fair, is it?"
"We could always ask Professor McGonagall if you could be moved up a floor," Percy suggested. "I think we've got a loft room."
Ron shook his head, and Harry wondered about whether he'd have to move into the loft room himself if he had a growth spurt or two.
The trip up the stairs took a minute or two, partly because of all the congestion and partly because everyone else was pretty tired; Harry was feeling like he'd be glad of his bed as well, as it had been a long time since he'd woken up, but first he unpacked his tent (using a spell to set it up, something he hadn't been able to do at home) and went in to snag the diary.
That done, he made his way back down the stairs – diary in one paw – and exited through the portrait hole.
Harry's route to Professor Dumbledore's office took him past Ravenclaw tower, and the entire House was still crowded outside.
Tanisis was sat on her haunches, head tilted a little, and as Harry arrived she licked her paw.
"What about this one?" she suggested. "Behind the first door is a raging fire, behind the second door is a group of vicious hit mages looking for something to kill, and behind the third door is a man-eating lion who hasn't eaten for three months. Which door is safest?"
"Why, the third door!" the knocker replied. "The lion's not eaten for three months, it's dead. Now, young lioness, can you tell me what it is that only an elephant can make?"
Tanisis hummed, taking her tail-brush in one paw and fiddling with it.
"A baby elephant," she said. "What word becomes shorter when you add two letters to it?"
"Short," the doorknocker answered. "Hmm, what about..."
Harry kept going, wondering whether they'd reach a point where they'd have to stop – if only to let everyone into Ravenclaw tower.
He encountered the Bloody Baron, who inspected him before shaking his head and floating onwards, then reached the corridor where the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office was found.
"Ah, Harry!" Dumbledore said, as Harry came into the room. "Excellent timing, I must say. I had just finished putting my dressing gown on."
The gown in question was quite a sight. It was covered in silver alchemical symbols which wriggled over the purple cloth, occasionally coming together to form an equation or other meaningful string of characters before drifting apart again. Harry said so, and the Headmaster smiled brightly at the compliment before taking a seat in one of the armchairs.
He indicated another to Harry, who took it, and Dumbledore then produced a bag from one of his pockets.
"Freddo?" he asked. "Of course, if you have already cleaned your teeth, I apologize for the temptation."
Harry said he'd be fine without one, and then took the book out from his robes.
"This is what I wanted to talk about, Sir," he explained. "I found it among the books I got at Diagon Alley during summer."
Dumbledore took it, and inspected it – opening it to the middle, at first, and seeing nothing but blank pages. An eyebrow rose as he flipped through it, forwards first, then back to the start.
When he reached the first page, he paused. "Ah, I see."
"I thought that if Tom Riddle had put his name on it then he had to have used it," Harry said. "And if there's nothing in the diary then that must be because he tried to hide it."
"Doubtless you are correct," Dumbledore agreed. "The year was one I remember well, though not for happy reasons."
Taking out his wand, he waved it once and then tapped the diary. There was a little flicker of red light, and the Headmaster's expression became troubled.
"Thank you for bringing this to me, Harry," he said. "You are correct that Tom has certainly written in this diary, though there is something else as well… I have a few ideas as to what it could be, and I fear that none of them are good."
The Professor fell silent for a long time, staring at the book, and Harry waited.
After perhaps four minutes just listening to the clock ticking, Harry glanced over at the phoenix – Fawkes, if he remembered correctly. "Is he awake?"
"No, I believe Fawkes is asleep," Dumbledore replied, and the flame-coloured bird chirped brightly. "You see? Deep in slumber. He often talks in his sleep."
He winked, and Harry chuckled.
"However," Dumbledore went on. "Mr. Potter. If this is what I fear it is, then I think it will become necessary for me to teach you a most remarkable spell. Not now, and not this year – at least I hope not – but some time you will have to learn it."
"What spell is that, Sir?" Harry asked, interested. "Is it the Patronus?"
"Not at all, the Patronus is a fine spell that I could wish more people knew," Dumbledore answered. "No, the spell I mean is called Fiendfyre. It is the most terrible kind of fire spell, hard to control and harder to stop… but it may be something you need in future, my boy. Though I dearly hope that this is simply the paranoia of an old man."
"Are you an old man, Sir?" Harry asked. "Don't you have a friend who's over six hundred years old?"
"Well remembered, Harry, well remembered indeed," Dumbledore smiled. "But wizards spend a lot of their time being old. It's really quite surprising how quickly we rush to become old, and how long we then spend enjoying it. Perhaps it is simply that it gives us an excuse to not bother to shave."
He waved his hand. "Now, I believe you should head back to get your sleep, before you begin your lessons tomorrow! Do take care to soak up as much knowledge as possible, you have had the whole summer to empty your head so it can be filled once more."
That night Harry had a strange dream, about the diary he'd handed in.
In the dream, Professor Quirrell was writing in the diary – using a quill to note down the schedule for his class. Monday, second year; Tuesday, third year; Wednesday, take over the world.
Then there was something about a horse that turned into a dragon, but honestly none of it was very clear.
In the morning, Harry stretched – getting the cricks out after the unusual experience of sleeping on a bed – and pulled his robes on before picking up Heir to the Empire. He went down the seven flights of steps to reach the Gryffindor Common Room, waved hello to the First-Years, and then had to politely tell them that, no, the way he was going to get to breakfast probably wouldn't work for them.
Leaving the portrait hole, he walked to the edge of the grand staircase and jumped.
Someone yelped back on the floor he'd left, and Harry dropped halfway to the ground floor before flaring his wings and coming down to a landing. It was just the way to make sure he was awake in the morning, and he furled his wings before heading in to get breakfast.
June was already there, inspecting some toast and prodding it dubiously with a fork, and she smiled briefly at Harry before returning to her examination of the bread products. Harry took a seat at the Gryffindor table, picking out some toast of his own, and buttered it up before adding some marmalade.
"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, getting his attention, and Harry paused long enough to take his schedule. It said that they had double Herbology this morning, then Transfiguration, and after lunch it was Defence.
Harry sort of wondered why it was double Herbology now, between bites of his toast. Maybe it was because they were moving on to more complicated plants?
Amused by the idea of seventh-year Herbology being an entire day's time wrestling with Devil's Snare, Harry finished his toast and looked for something else to have. He picked up some scrambled egg, a sausage, and as he was adding some baked beans to the mix Dean came into the room.
"I forgot how many stairs this place had," he said, yawning. "What's first today?"
"Herbology," Harry told him, opening Heir to the Empire. "That's a double, then there's Transfiguration as well before lunch."
"Wow, so much for an easy Wednesday morning," Dean snorted. "When's Astronomy?"
"Um… midnight on Friday evening, I think," Harry replied, then checked his schedule again. "Yeah. That might be a problem if there's a club Saturday morning."
Their friends straggled in over the next ten minutes, Hermione with a gaggle of First-Years (or was the term pride, since they were Gryffindors?), and after they'd eaten they headed all the way back up to pick up their Herbology and Transfiguration books.
Then all the way back down again to the ground floor to head to the greenhouses.
It was something like forty flights of stairs, up or down, and Hermione was grumbling about it as they got to the greenhouses.
"What about if we had bags like Harry's tent?" Ron suggested. "You know, bigger on the inside. So you could carry all your stuff in one, and you wouldn't need to go back to the dorms."
"That's a good idea," Dean agreed. "We can't all be like Harry, and inexplicably tough and stuff."
"It seems pretty explicable to me," Neville volunteered. "He's a dragon."
"That's just a description, not an explanation," Hermione told him. "If you want to get technical, that is."
"I think it's an explanation," Harry said. "Dragons are just… kind of strong? I think it's biological."
He inspected his wing. "Or whatever it is you call it."
"Any idea how hard it is to make one of those bags I was talking about?" Ron asked. "It'd be great if we all had one."
"It would," Hermione agreed. "And, naturally, if you want one you'll have to make it yourself."
"Come on," Ron groaned. "Do I have to?"
"You made yourself some Erasing Quills," Hermione told him. "Eventually. So you should be able to do it."
"But..." Ron began, then groaned. "All right, all right..."
They crossed the lawn, going around the vegetable patch, and as they rounded the corner of one of the greenhouses they saw Professor Sprout with about half of the second-year Hufflepuffs. Parvati and Lavender were there as well, and Harry took a quick glance at Ron's watch to make sure they were still early.
"Good morning, chaps!" Professor Sprout said brightly. "We'll just wait for the rest of them to arrive – shouldn't be long."
"Ah, Professor Sprout!" came a voice, and Professor Lockhart strode over the vegetable patch to join them. "Just the person I wanted to see! I was wondering whether you were going to be discussing the Snargaluff today."
"That is sixth-year work, Professor Lockhart," Professor Sprout said, still cheerful. "I wouldn't give it to second-years, I fear it would probably wipe out half the class."
"Of course, of course!" Professor Lockhart laughed. "Half the class, maybe, but I'm sure Mr. Potter would get through unscathed!"
He winked at Harry. "But I was wondering if you'd perhaps consider using a little spell I picked up in Borneo – but, no, you know best, of course!"
Professor Sprout seemed a little less cheerful at that, but then someone yelped. "Dragon!"
"You mean Harry?" Hermione asked. "He's been your classmate for a year, Ernie-"
Professor Lockhart let out a quite spectacular shout of surprise, and then Harry was bowled over by a powerful impact that knocked him rolling once over completely and left him sprawling in the loamy soil of the vegetable patch.
A black-scaled, bronze-horned head as big as his torso loomed over him, teeth exposed and tongue rolling, and Harry blinked for a moment.
"Is that you, Nora?" he asked, noticing the long yellow scarf wound around the dragon's neck.
"Yes!" the dragon replied, and licked Harry from the base of his neck all the way up to his muzzle – knocking his glasses off, so Harry had to catch them with one paw. "Nora!"
She lifted her head back up a bit, visibly looking Harry up and down, and tilted it in bafflement. "Small now?"
"You can talk?" Harry asked, confused. "I didn't know dragons could talk."
"Harry, are you okay?" Neville asked.
Nora ignored him. "Talk!" she announced, sounding very pleased with herself.
"What's that hissing noise?" Ernie asked. "Is that dragon? I didn't know Harry spoke dragon."
"I didn't know I spoke dragon," Harry replied, turning to look at the Hufflepuff. "I didn't know dragon was a thing that could be spoken."
He turned his attention back to Nora. "Can you let me get up, please?"
"Up?" Nora repeated, and try as he might Harry couldn't tell the difference between how she spoke and the sound of normal English. "Up!"
Her wings unfurled, and she took off to hover about five feet in the air. Harry rolled back to his feet, shaking some of the dirt off, and Nora gave him a plaintive look – the wind from her wings blowing fallen twigs and leaves away in gusts and making everyone else keep back.
"Fly?" she asked.
"Sorry," Harry replied. "I've got a lesson – er – how much do you understand?"
Nora seemed disappointed by the first word, and landed again. That let Harry see that she was now at least twenty-five feet long, and he wondered how she fit through the castle… then again, it was full of secret passages, and she wasn't all that wide as such. Just long.
"Understand?" she said. "Understand words!"
"Nora? Nora – there you are, you little rascal!"
Hagrid hurried over, and Nora turned to him to accept a scratch under the chin. "Sorry, Harry, she was goin' out for a fly, then she musta seen you and decided to come over. She's such a sweet normally-"
"Hagrid?" Harry interrupted. "Did you know Nora can talk?"
He frowned. "I mean, it's not English, but I can understand it, anyway..."
"Talk!" Nora agreed. "Talk lots!"
"Is that what that hissin' stuff is?" Hagrid said, sounding very interested indeed. "Aren't you a clever dragon?"
Nora seemed quite pleased by that description.
After the excitement of the dragon, Professor Sprout announced that they'd be in Greenhouse Three. Professor Lockhart seemed to have gone missing, which was a bit strange, and Harry followed the rest of the students as he brushed mud off his robes.
Maybe he'd have to swap to his other set after Herbology and leave those ones out for the House-Elves to wash.
Pondering that, he listened as Professor Sprout told everyone about the Mandrakes. She reminded everyone that the cry of an adult Mandrake could be fatal, but that a young Mandrake would just cause unconsciousness.
There were earmuffs laid out on all the tables, and Harry lifted himself up to a table with one forepaw before raising the other.
"Professor?" he asked. "What should I do? And does that apply to my sort of dragon?"
"Ah," Professor Sprout said, nodding. "Two very good questions, Mr. Potter."
She raised her wand. "If everyone else could put their earmuffs on, please?"
There was a general rustling as everyone else duly put their earmuffs on, and Professor Sprout checked to be sure everyone had indeed got their earmuffs in place. Once she had, she grasped the leaves of one of the Mandrakes before pulling it out of the soil.
Harry had sort of remembered that Mandrakes looked like that – like babies, for the young plants – but seeing it was something else entirely. The Mandrake wailed, squirming, and it was loud and vaguely painful for a second until Professor Sprout waved her wand at the Mandrake and it went silent.
After she'd re-potted the plant, she bustled over to inspect Harry and took her own earmuffs off. "Everything alright, Mr. Potter?"
Harry nodded slowly. "I think so, Professor. I had a bit of a headache, but it's going away now."
"Good, you should be fine," Professor Sprout said, and tapped her wand on the spare pair of earmuffs so they reformed themselves into a dragon-appropriate shape. "Resistant, but not enough to skip the earmuffs. Better to check with a youngster than a full-sized Mandrake."
She gestured to everyone else to take their earmuffs off, then went through the details of how to re-pot a Mandrake. Harry briefly tried the earmuffs on, making sure they blocked all the sound, then listened until Professor Sprout was done.
"Professor?" he asked, putting his paw up again. "How do you know when a Mandrake is fully grown?"
"Oh, they usually hold a party about two thirds of the way in," the Professor replied. "And before you ask, Mr. Potter, it's all instinct – and yes, we have thought about that."
Harry was quite glad for the reassurance.
After almost two hours of re-potting plants, everyone went for a quick wash and change. Then it was down to Transfiguration, where they were starting right back in on transfiguring things with a beetles-to-buttons lesson. Professor McGonagall said that anyone who worked out the point of the lesson and told her would get four points, and after several minutes of trying to transfigure her beetle Sally-Anne Perks put her hand up.
"Is it so we get used to transfiguring things quickly?" she asked.
"Well done, Miss Perks," the Professor said. "Four points, as promised. Yes, this is an important aspect of Transfiguration."
She waved her wand twice, turning her glass of water into a bird and back. "When Transfiguring a moving object, you must keep in mind how long it will take to Transfigure – and where it is when the spell is cast."
That sounded interesting to Harry, and he wondered whether maybe that was why Animation was used so much in Transfiguration – as a way to get around that problem.
He managed to make one button, sort of, but it didn't have any holes in the middle and had a tendency to scuttle away when he wasn't looking. Hermione did much better, and Harry decided that he should do a bit of Transfiguration revision this evening as well as their proper homework.
It really was a pity that they couldn't practice over the summer. He knew it was the law, but it meant that you came straight back to school and you'd not done any magic for two months – certainly no Transfiguration, in his case.
Really, there should be some kind of footnote to the law where it was allowed so long as you were in a place where no Muggles could possibly see you. Or maybe so long as the only Muggles who could see you already knew about magic? That way Hermione could do magic at home, because her parents knew.
Thinking about that made Harry think about his tent, and his cloak, and the other magical items he had. Wouldn't it be just as much of a problem for a young wizard to use those as use his wand?
It was all very complicated, and Harry shrugged his wings before going to lunch.
Conversation was buzzing in the Great Hall during lunch. Apparently Professor Lockhart's first Defence lesson, with the first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins, had gone quite badly wrong – starting when he'd been asked by a Slytherin to give them a demonstration of a spell and accidentally picked up a liquorice wand instead.
It was kind of confused what had happened after that point, but it sounded like the Smith twins' pet fox had run rampant through the class, and that Professor Lockhart hadn't managed to catch her for more than twenty minutes of knocking things over and robe-biting and tripping.
The way Colin said it, there'd been absolute bedlam, and Professor Lockhart had eventually announced that they'd had an absolutely marvellous lesson in how much chaos and disruption could result from something simple – pointing out that, while it was risky for the fox, doing that to someone else in a fight would be really very useful.
Harry kind of liked that point. It was a good point, and he wondered if that had been what Professor Lockhart had been planning on teaching for the whole lesson or just something he'd come up with as an improvisation.
Unsure quite what to expect, Harry and his friends went to their own first Defence lesson of the year.
Professor Lockhart was nowhere to be seen, at first, but swept in just before the bell with a flourish.
"Ah, another fine group of students!" he said, smiling winningly. "In case you don't know, my name is Gilderoy Lockhart."
He held up one of the books from Parvati's desk and winked, and the picture on the front cover winked as well.
"I don't really like being called Professor, it's really quite a boring title," he went on, putting it down again. "Unlike, say, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, or Order of Merlin, Third Class. Or five-times winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award."
He demonstrated, and Harry wondered what the appeal was.
"Though I wouldn't recommend trying to drive off a dark creature by smiling at it," Lockhart cautioned. "It certainly didn't work on the Bandon Banshee!"
There were a few faint chuckles at that, and Lockhart continued apace. "I thought I'd just begin this class with a quick test – see how much you know so far, and how well you read your course books. If you could just hand those out for me, there's a good lad."
Terry Boot took them and passed them out, one per person. Harry got his and inspected it, finding that there were three pages in total, and had to do a bit of a double-take when he read the actual questions.
There were things like asking what Mr. Lockhart's favourite colour was, or what his ideal birthday present would be, or when he won his Order of Merlin. A few of the questions were about the actual subjects of the books, but it didn't seem like many of them were at all.
Frowning and wondering what the lesson here was, Harry started doing his best to answer them as soon as Mr. Lockhart told them to start.
A few minutes in, he absently opened one of the books to check something. Then he looked up at Mr. Lockhart to see if it was okay, and the teacher winked at him.
Harry assumed that that meant it was okay to look things up, and the sound of turning pages slowly got more common as more people followed his example.
"Well!" Mr. Lockhart said, marking the exams about half an hour later. "Mostly right, Mr. Potter, but you did forget about my favourite colour, which is lilac!"
Harry wondered whether Mr. Lockhart could have at least put some kind of index in his books. It was very hard to find what he wanted to find without one of those, and he'd done his best – and with over fifty questions in thirty minutes, he hadn't had time to look most things up anyway.
"It looks like Miss Granger is the only one to get everything," Mr. Lockhart added. "Very well done, Miss Granger, ten points to Gryffindor!"
Hermione seemed very pleased, and Mr. Lockhart brought a covered cage out from under the table.
"Be warned," he began. "In this classroom, you will face fiendish dark creatures and learn how to take on terrifying spells. There will be many terrible things… you may even see your worst fear within these halls."
Dean put his hand up.
"Mr. Thomas?" Mr. Lockhart asked.
"Does that mean you have a Boggart in there, sir?" he said, pointing at the cage.
"A good question!" Lockhart replied. "But no, not this time. What you will find within are..."
He pulled the cloth off. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies!"
The pixies jabbered wildly as the light hit them, and Harry leaned forwards a little to look closer.
He'd never seen a pixie before, and they looked very odd – like brilliant blue humans less than nine inches tall, without any wings but floating around anyway.
Seamus started to laugh.
"Yes?" Mr. Lockhart asked.
"Well… they're not really dangerous, are they?" Seamus asked, gesturing to the pixies.
"Well, Mr. Finnegan," the teacher replied. "Since you say so, I'm sure you can sort them out."
He opened the door of the cage.
Eleven minutes later, Dean finally got the freezing charm right and managed to immobilize the pixie that was still lifting Neville by his ear.
Harry caught his friend, and they all glanced warily around to be sure there weren't any more pixies still flitting around the room.
Several long seconds went by with no sign of a bright blue menace whizzing back and forth, and Harry let out a long sigh.
"It's so lucky you knew that spell, Hermione," he said, looking at the bedlam that the pixies had caused. Books torn – hopefully they'd be able to repair them or at least ask Percy for help – ink splashed, several small craters in the walls, pictures broken and glass everywhere from the smashed windows and the covers of the paintings. A portrait was complaining in a muffled voice that it had gone blind, though Harry thought it had just ended up facing straight down, and the cage was full of paralyzed pixies as Ron put the last one in and swung the cage door shut.
"There you go!" Mr. Lockhart said. "A fine lesson, I think, in why you should never claim something is simple when you cannot do it yourself!"
He smiled, though it was a bit less charismatic with his hair dripping with bright purple ink. "No need to clear up the rest, I'm sure the house-elves will be delighted to. No homework today, wouldn't be fair to give it to you with so many of your classmates having fled!"
"That doesn't sound like a very good way of teaching," Su Li said, as they headed upstairs – both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor dorms were the same direction, and Sue had stuck around to help them out.
"Maybe it's all about practical skills?" Neville suggested. "I do kind of wish we had Mr. Podmore back, though. He was cool."
There was general agreement, and then they all crowded to the side to let Tanisis Sanura lope past with Luna Lovegood following her.
"Sorry!" Luna called. "We lost track of time, Charms is in two minutes!"
"Probably telling riddles again," Su said, shaking her head. "Nobody else understands half of them – and this is Ravenclaw we're talking about."
Overall, Harry thought, Hogwarts was certainly as strange as it had ever been.
AN:
And that's the first day of the new year handled.
Butterflies are flapping... a bit.