Magic was a lot harder than Harry thought.
He was able to spark some changes in his surroundings when he was upset or was determined enough. But trying to get specific effects like turning a matchstick into a needle was an exercise in futility. His efforts in his other wanded-subjects were met with the same results. Nothing.
He is well aware of what his problem was. His wand.
Every evening before he went to sleep, he would pull out his first wand and try out the spells they were learning in an abandoned classroom. He was able to perform the spells with little to no trouble.
But he was stubborn. He wants to be different from the other wizards. So, he stuck to his homemade wand and tried his best in his classes. He kept up with the theory work and practiced with his first wand during his evenings.
He was sure, he can graduate from his first wand eventually.
A month after classes had commenced, rumours were starting to spread. Rumours about Harry's inability to cast spells. The Boy-who-lived is a squib? How did he defeat the dark lord?
To the surprise of many of the professors, Harry took it all in stride. He never showed his emotions or retaliated against the other students.
What they didn't know was that Harry was used to the stares and whispering. His ability to ignore what others are saying has been mastered to perfection under the tutelage of the Dursleys.
For Harry, it was just a part of his life. And life goes on.
An unexpected outcome was befriending Neville Longbottom.
Once the rumours of Harry being a squib spread amongst the Hogwarts students and professors, some of his fans have begun distancing themselves from him. Like Ron, for one. Hermione, was disappointed that most of the things she read about him were false, and kept her distance.
Neville found a kindred soul in Harry. He was looked down upon as a near-squib for his entire childhood, and had suffered through his great-uncle's attempts to force out his magic. When Harry was called a squib, Neville became his friend and discovered a new-found confidence in himself to stand up for Harry. His confidence bolstered his own performance in class and he stood guard besides Harry like a fierce lion.
Harry, for his part, had revised his opinion of Neville.
Neville's new profile had only one word. Friend.
He was Harry's first friend, ever!
Most of the professors were disappointed. They had high expectations for the son of James and Lily. The revelation that he was unable to perform the simplest of spells had them in bouts of depression. The Boy-who-lived is an influential figure in their society. He is an icon. The herald of a new age of peace after the years of suffering under You-know-who's acts of terrorism. It didn't bode well for their icon to be tarnished. As such, the headmaster had placed the castle under secrecy wards, to prevent the dissemination of any relevant information outside of the castle. It was a stopgap measure, but the headmaster hoped to delay the impact for as long as possible.
Professor Snape was feeling conflicted. Despite his personal feelings towards Harry, he has shown talent in potion-making. His quiet mannerism and isolated presence in the castle were a stark reminder that Harry was different from his father. In the end, he adopted an impartial attitude during his lessons and actually put a stop to any house rivalry and shenanigans in his lab.
When Halloween came, most of the students had lost their interest in Harry. The status of the boy-who-lived has slowly descended into non-entity. And as Harry expected. Life goes on.
Harry was eating quietly as he enjoyed the Halloween feast. He was satisfied with his life at Hogwarts. He was progressing well in his classes and his nighttime practices. So far, Harry had nothing to show for his efforts in practicing with his homemade wand. But he was sure, sooner or later, there will be a breakthrough. It was the only thing on his list that he could work on right now, since the other items require more advanced magical knowledge and skills.
What was unexpected though was Professor Quirrell's dramatic entry and dead faint in the middle of the Great Hall. Harry had noticed Hermione's absence and with Neville at his side, decided to search for her and bring her back to the Gryffindor dorms. She was not informed of the troll wandering in Hogwarts, after all.
What ensued was a sensational rescue attempt with Harry jumping on the troll's back and Neville disarming the troll via levitating the club away. The troll had eventually slipped on the wet floor and knocked itself out on one of the sinks. Soon after, they were escorted to the infirmary by the professors and were held captive by the matron for the night.
Later that night, Professor Quirrell was talking to himself in his office.
"Master! Are you sure that the boy-who-lived is faking his competency? He didn't even pull out his wand"
"Silence! Are you questioning me? He must be hiding his skills. I am the Dark Lord Voldemort! I can't be taken down by a squib! There must be something about him." His turban replied back to him. "Keep your eyes on him!"
Acquiescing to his master's demand, Quirrell went back to grading the homework assignments piled on his desk.
The rest of year went by without any significant events happening.
For the rest of the students that is.
For Harry, it was the first time he had received presents. He woke up on Christmas morning to a small pile of colorfully wrapped gifts at the foot of his bed waiting for him. Harry went through his presents methodically before finally reaching a nondescript parcel with no name on it. Opening the parcel, he had discovered his father's cloak and a note written in loopy handwriting.
Late after curfew, Harry decided to try out the cloak and went exploring. In a dusty storage room, Harry came across a mirror. Besides being a rather large, ornate mirror, there was nothing special about it. It simply showed his reflection. Harry left soon after and continued his exploration.
Hidden underneath the disillusionment charm, Dumbledore had a crestfallen look. He had hoped to catch a glimpse of Harry's deepest desire. But the enchanting mirror had no hold over the boy, when he should have been entranced by the mirror and lost track of time. Was the boy perfectly content with his life or did he not have enough magic to be ensnared by the mirror? Perhaps he could tempt the boy with promises of wealth and immortality? He can rely on Hagrid's occasional slip up to pass on information without tipping his hand.
Back in bed later that night, Harry thought about his life. Buried underneath his desires and ambitions, Harry was a simple boy. He does not desire fame or wealth. He wants to be someone he could be proud of. Someone his parents would look at proudly. His incessant desire to be a freak, was an expression of his determination. When he first discovered the meaning of the word 'Freak', he had understood that it was given to him in spite. He had however, chosen to interpret it as being unique. One of a kind. Surely, his parents would be proud of him because he was special. He doesn't want to be a normal child with a normal upbringing. He wants to leave his mark in history by being himself, his own person. He doesn't want to live someone else's life. When he had looked into the mirror, he had seen his own reflection. A reflection of his grown-up self with a confident air. He had pulled away from the mirror soon after because his greatest desire was not to become the man in the mirror, it was to be the best he could be. The man in the mirror was not him. Wrapping his father's cloak around him, he takes comfort in knowing his parents were watching over him.
One day, he would go up to the Dursleys and proudly announce himself as a freak. A freak so unique, that no one can be said to have done what he had accomplished. A freak that has surpassed all the other freaks. He won't be satisfied with just being a 'freak' as his relatives had called it. He will become a freak amongst freaks. He will be the best. One day… he will make certain of it.
