Thank you again to all the reviewers. You are too many to name, but I will address a few questions.
Hermione is in Gryffindor, as clarified in this chapter. The Gryffindor table is next to the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall, so she merely turned around in her seat to congratulate him.
I wanted to do something different, but also sort of the same. Harry in Ravenclaw fits this bill. There will still be a "Golden Trio," though it's not going to be Ron.
Ravenclaw gives me a chance to develop what would normally be undeveloped characters. We'll get to meet those that have not often been explored. Also, I'm looking at a future H/H relationship, but I'm still quite unsure about that. I don't much like Cho, but if there's enough uprising about H/H, then I'll consider another girl somewhere down the line.
Thanks for reading. Here's the next installment!
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Harry awoke the next morning feeling happy and alive. He jumped out of bed, noting that he had about a half hour until breakfast, and gathered his things for a shower. Archimedes mewed indignantly for having been jostled from his sleep, but curled up in Harry's former place, soaking up the boy's warmth.
Harry emerged in his Ravenclaw robes, noting for the first time the other three boys in the room. He recognized Terry in the bed next to his, but the other two were unfamiliar. He shook Terry's shoulder carefully, calling the boy's name.
"Hmm?" the boy mumbled from his pillows.
"It's nearly time for breakfast. We'll be late if you don't hurry," Harry said. Terry sat up, rubbing his eyes.
"We?" he asked curiously.
"Yeah, we. Now come on." Harry smiled as he pulled the other boy out of bed. Terry smirked and motioned for Harry to be quiet. He picked up his pillow and tiptoed over to the bed on the other side of the room. Harry quickly followed suit, grabbing his from under Archimedes.
"On the count of three," Terry whispered, and raised his pillow over his head. Harry did the same, and upon the boy's whisper of "Three!" they slammed the pillows down on the lumps under the sheets. Two cries of annoyance rose from the blankets, and two heads poked out from underneath the covers.
"What was that for?" a small bespectacled boy asked. Harry merely shrugged and pointed at Terry, who immediately threw his pillow back at him.
"Traitor!" he yelled, and the pillow fight was on. Harry had never had as much fun in his life. By the end, they were all tired, their sides hurt from all the laughing, and they all had ten minutes to get ready. Harry waited for Terry, and they walked to the Great Hall together.
"So, Harry, what classes do you think are going to be the best?" Terry asked.
"I don't know, I kind of like Transfiguration and Charms. I like wand-work, I think it's neat," Harry replied. Terry shook his head, and Harry gave him a questioning look.
"Nothing, Harry, it's just I thought you would be into Potions and stuff. You know, your uncle being who he is." Harry laughed with him as they entered the Great Hall.
"Truthfully, I get enough of potions at home. Either hearing about it, or helping Uncle Sev – I mean Professor Snape. Sometimes he let me fix up the non-dangerous ingredients." They sat down at the table, their plates immediately filling with eggs, bacon, and toast. Harry looked up to see the bushy-haired girl walk through the door, alone. He smiled and waved at her. She gave him a small, sad smile, waving back a little. She looked around at the Gryffindor table, trying to figure out a place to sit. Ron was talking animatedly with Seamus and Dean, and the girls were giggling uncontrollably at something.
"Hey, Terry, you mind if she joins us?" Harry asked, gesturing to the girl. Terry shrugged, diving into his food. Harry beamed and stood, waving her over.
"Oy! You can sit with us if you like," he told her. She looked around, unsure, and Harry sat back down, scooting over to make room for her. "Don't worry, inter-house mingling is actually encouraged," he explained. "I'm Harry Potter, by the way, and this is Terry Boot."
"Please," Terry grimaced, "My mother insisted on naming me after my great-uncle. I hate that name. I go by Colt."
"Colt?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, it's short for Colton, my middle name." Harry nodded as the girl sat next to him.
"Hermione Granger," she said shortly, her plate filling up. "I wanted to be in Ravenclaw, but the hat put me in Gryffindor." She sounded almost disappointed. "I've read all of our textbooks; do you think once is enough? I might go over the Transfiguration book again; I simply find it fascinating." Harry nodded, chewing his eggs thoughtfully.
"I think Transfiguration will be a great class. I want to be an Animagus," Harry said.
"Do you know any?" Colt asked, his attention now fully on Harry.
"Well, no, I just think it would be cool. I mean, that has to be useful right? Being able to change into an animal?"
"But it's dangerous," Hermione put in, "You're not even supposed to study it until you graduate." Harry smiled wryly.
"Aw, come on Hermione, it would be fun though. And I'm sure I can get us special passes to the library from my uncle. We are Ravenclaws, after all." Hermione shook her head.
"I don't think it's wise, Harry. I mean, what if we get caught?"
"We?" Harry asked, turning to her. She blushed slightly and looked down at her plate.
"Well, I thought that…maybe since you invited me over here, that we could be sort of friends?" She seemed most uncertain, and Harry rolled his eyes.
"So much for Gryffindor courage," he mumbled loudly enough for her to hear. Her eyes widened as she scoffed huffily, until he smiled charmingly. "I was only joking, Hermione. Of course you're our friend." He was going to continue when a rather short wizard appeared behind them.
"Your timetables," he said, handing Harry and Colt a sheet of parchment. He looked at Hermione and frowned, noting the badge on her robes. "Miss Granger, I believe?" she nodded. "You should be over there," he said, pointing to the table next to him. Harry cleared his throat.
"I invited her over, Professor. I didn't want her sitting by herself." The man squeaked happily and scuttled off, delivering timetables as he went. As Professor McGonagall passed by, she dug through her stack.
"Miss Granger, Professor Flitwick said you were over here. Here is your timetable." She smiled at Harry and continued on her way. Harry looked over and compared his to hers.
"Well, this isn't so bad," he said. "We have Potions and Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts with you, and Herbology and History of Magic with the Slytherins."
"What elective did you sign up for, Harry?" Colt asked.
"Astronomy, I love it."
"I have it as well," Hermione said. "When I get to third year, though, I'm going to take Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures." Harry cringed.
"Arithmancy? My uncle said that's a difficult class. Even he didn't take it while he was here."
"Hey, Harry, we'd better get going," Colt said, standing with his bag. "We have Potions first thing." Harry nodded, gulping down his pumpkin juice. "See you around Hermione!" Colt called, and she waved back.
"See you in Charms!" Harry called, waving.
"Bye Harry, Colt!" She sighed and finished her meal. For once in her life, she was eager to get classes over with so she could write home to her parents.
Harry and Colt entered the Potions classroom and took a seat near the front. Hannah Abbot smiled shyly at him from the table beside them, and he smiled back awkwardly. As they were setting up their cauldrons, the door burst open.
"You will not need your wands for this class, and there will be no silly incantations to mutter. I am charged with teaching you the exact science and art of potion-making. Not many are adept at this field, so I don't expect to see many of you beyond your fifth year. But until that time, you will listen and do exactly as I say, for the consequences will be dire for those who do not." The entire class was riveted to their seats, both scared and intrigued at the foreboding man. Harry swallowed hard, forcing the lump to return to his stomach. He desperately hoped his uncle did not pick on him. "Now, let us see who has been reading their texts." He looked down at the roll, then back up at the class.
"Mr. Boot, tell me, where would you look if I asked you to find a bezoar?" Colt sat up in his chair, casting a quick sidelong glance at Harry.
"In the stomach of a goat, sir," he answered shortly. Snape merely nodded and looked back down at the roll.
"Miss Bones, please name two properties of elderberries."
"Sir, elderberries are a red, sweet-smelling berry found in most parts of Central Europe and, uh," she paused for a moment before continuing, "They can cause illness if prepared improperly." Snape raised an elegant eyebrow at her, sighing to himself.
"Mr. Potter, what is the difference in wolfsbane and monkshood?" Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he stared blankly at his uncle. I know this one…where have I seen the word monkshood? Yes! Uncle Severus' wolfsbane potion!
"They are the same thing, Professor," he answered, almost smiling. Though Snape merely nodded and continued checking the roll, Harry could have sworn he'd seen a proud look thrown his way.
"You will not be making potions today," Snape finally said, turning to the board. "Open your texts to page seven and begin reading through page 24." Harry sighed and opened up his book, noticing Colt's exasperated look; they had both read the chapter last night.
After potions, Harry slowly packed up his things, whispering to Colt to go ahead of him. As he planned, he was the last one remaining, and Professor Snape smirked knowingly.
"I see you're getting along well," he commented, moving to sit on the edge of his desk.
Harry beamed at him, "Yeah, Colt is really cool, and Hermione seems okay."
"She's a Gryffindor, correct?"
"Yeah, but she wanted to be a Ravenclaw. Maybe she should have told the hat."
"Harry, the hat doesn't listen to you; it sees who you really are and puts you where you belong. Now run along, you have classes."
"See you at lunch, Uncle." Severus nodded as the door shut, and he returned to his office, preparing for his next class: first year Slytherin/Gryffindors.
Harry and Colt met up with Hermione in Charms, and they took seats near the front. As they were discussing their first classes, the small wizard from breakfast hopped upon a pile of books and began calling out the roll. When he reached Harry's name, he let out an excited squeak and tumbled down onto the floor.
They went to lunch, talking animatedly about Charms and how Hermione had almost mastered the wrist movement. Harry dug out his timetable, noting that they had Herbology this afternoon, and asked Hermione how to get to the green houses.
"I think Herbology is interesting, but it should really be more of an elective. Neville seems really good at it though." Colt swallowed his turkey sandwich and scrunched his face up.
"Neville? As in Longbottom?" Hermione nodded. "I knew him in primary. He didn't show his magical talent until he was almost ten! Everyone thought he was a Squib for the longest time."
"What happened?" Harry asked, but Colt shrugged.
"I remember him talking about bouncing into the street, but I don't know much more than that." Harry and Colt waved goodbye to Hermione as she headed to History of Magic.
Finally, Friday came, and Harry and Colt sauntered into the Great Hall for lunch happily and proudly. They were about to brag about how they hadn't gotten lost once today when they saw Hermione's glistening eyes and distraught face. Harry sat down next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.
"What's wrong, Hermione?"
"That horrid Potions Master!" she fumed, "He took ten points from Ron Weasley because Neville's cauldron melted, just because Ron didn't tell him not to add the porcupine quills! It wasn't even Ron's fault!" Harry grimaced and removed his hand.
"Hermione," he looked around, making sure no one was within hearing range. "Uncle Severus doesn't mean to be cruel. He has to keep up appearances, especially in front of the Slytherins.
"But he favors them horribly!" she cried, not realizing what Harry had called the potions master.
"I know, but for good reason. You see, most of the wizarding world view Slytherins as evil; they're not! It's not the house, but the choice, that makes the wizard evil. Uncle has to favor them because no one else will."
"Wait a minute! Uncle? He's your uncle? Oh, Harry, I'm sorry! I didn't realize!" She covered her mouth with her hand.
"It's alright, Hermione. I'm sure I'll hear much worse things about him over the next seven years. Just don't go around telling people he's my uncle. He doesn't want me to endure too much." Hermione nodded, miming locking her mouth with a key and throwing it aside. They ate in relative silence after that, only discussing classes, and upcoming Quidditch trials.
"I wish they'd let first years try. I'd bet I could make a wicked Beater!" Colt was bragging on their way out to their flying lesson. This was the only class that all the first years had together, on Friday afternoon. The three were some of the first to arrive, having only been beaten by a few Slytherins.
"Well, if it isn't Saint Potter!" a young voice drawled. Harry turned to face Malfoy, who was flanked by two large boys that Harry remembered from the sorting. Harry raised an eyebrow in recognition, but otherwise ignored Malfoy. "Imagine, the Savior of the World, not in Gryffindor. What would Mummy and Daddy think?" The two goons sniggered into their hands, more out of habit than having gotten the joke. Colt leaned into Harry.
"You're just going to let him rag you like that?" he asked incredulously. Harry merely nodded and gestured with his head at the approaching teacher. But Malfoy hadn't seen her, and kept on.
"Poor, poor Potter. Can only find friends in bookworms and –"
"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch's voice rang out. "Take your place beside a broom and keep quiet!" The blonde boy sneered at Harry, but did as he was told as the rest of the first years joined them. Madam Hooch instructed each of them next to a broom and took her place at the head of the lines.
"Now, hold your hand over your broomsticks, and say 'Up!' Remember to be commanding." Her pupils all did as they were told, and she was rather surprised when Potter's broom jumped into his hand immediately.
"Whoa, Harry!" Colt whispered. "You're bloody good!" He smiled and shrugged, not liking the added attention. Hermione's took a few more tries, and Ron Weasley said it so forcefully, he whacked himself in the nose. Finally, everyone had their broomsticks in hand, and Madam Hooch began instructing them on proper handling. Harry joined the Gryffindors in snickering when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.
"Now," she said, returning to her place at the front, "When I blow my whistle, I want you to kick up from the ground hard, hover for a few moments, then settle back down on the ground by leaning forward slightly." Harry tightened his grip, prepared to show everyone, especially Malfoy, just how good of a flyer he was. Madam Hooch began her countdown, but before she reached one, Neville's broom took off. Harry scowled at Malfoy and his cronies, who were hooting at the sight of Neville zipping uncontrollably through the air. Finally, he slipped from his broom and fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Harry remembered all too well his accident, and silently thanked Merlin that he had had a pool to land in, ice cold or not.
"Everyone is to remain on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing. If I see a single broom in the air, the rider will find themselves out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'" Harry watched them until they were inside the castle and Malfoy's voice pulled his attention around.
"Oh look, the big oaf dropped his precious trinket!" he crowed, stooping to pick up a small glass sphere that Harry recognized as a Remembrall. Feeling a sudden surge of bravery, he stepped forward.
"Give it here, Draco. That belongs to Neville." Malfoy sneered at Harry and hopped upon his broom.
"No," he said haughtily as he lifted into the air, "I think I'll leave it on the roof for Longbottom to find." He soared higher, finally turning to look down at the mass. "What's wrong, Potter? Too high for you? I'll bet your uncle told you not to break any rules or he'd wallop you." The last of the logic his uncle had instilled in him vanished, and Harry mounted his broom. Colt's eyes widened as he realized what Harry was planning, but Hermione beat him to it.
"Harry, no! You heard Madam Hooch! You'll be expelled! Besides, this is the first flying lesson, get it?"
"I've flown before, Hermione. Don't worry." Harry brushed her off and lifted off the ground after Malfoy, surprising everyone with his grace in the air.
"Now, give it back," Harry demanded, flying a little closer. Draco smirked and raised his eyebrow elegantly.
"Fetch, Potter!" he yelled, hurling the little sphere as far as he could throw it. Acting out of pure instinct he didn't know he possessed, he took off after the little ball. He crouched low to his broom to minimize air resistance and pushed the Cleansweep to its limits. He reached out his hand and snagged the ball just before it smashed against the wall, but lost his balance. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the broom tightly and spun in a complete barrel roll, landing upright and balanced mere inches away from the wall of the castle. Too amazed to do anything else, he slowly began descending, barely registering when the crowd of students broke out into a cheer and began racing toward him.
Colt was patting him on the back, yelling about how wicked his little stunt was, when a voice rang out above the din.
"Harry Potter!" Harry grimaced and turned to look at Professor McGonagall. He handed the Remembrall to Ron and his broom to Colt as he followed the Deputy Headmistress into the castle. His heart sunk as he thought about how disappointed his uncle was going to be. It sunk even further when he realized he was never going to get to learn magic after today. They approached a stone gargoyle, and McGonagall called out the password ("Sugar Quills"). The gargoyle hopped aside, and they ascended the staircase together, silently.
"Ah, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Potter, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?" the Headmaster smiled merrily as Harry got his first good look at the venerable wizard's office.
"Mr. Potter was flying around without supervision, Headmaster. Madam Hooch would not have left them without instructions." Harry cleared his throat.
"Actually, Ma'am, she said that no one was to be in the air, or we'd be expelled." She narrowed her eyes at him, but remained silent. The Headmaster called for two house elves to deliver messages to Professors Snape and Flitwick.
"Why my uncle, Headmaster? Isn't expulsion enough?" The Headmaster's eyes twinkled with merriment at the statement, but McGonagall huffed.
"You'd do better to be a bit more respectful of your elders."
"Minerva, the boy meant no disrespect. Surely you of all people know of Severus'…shall we say discipline?" She pursed her lips as Snape and Flitwick entered, and upon seeing Harry, Severus cast a cold glare at the boy.
"What have you done, young man?" he demanded.
"He was riding his broom without supervision, Professor," McGonagall proffered, "after Madam Hooch instructed them not to." Harry suddenly became very interested in his shoes until Severus strode forward and lifted his chin.
"Explain," he ordered, his voice low and deadly. Harry swallowed as his uncle released him and launched into his tale.
"Neville, Longbottom that is, accidentally took off before Madam Hooch blew her whistle. He didn't mean to, it just kind of took off without his say so. Anyway, he finally fell and broke his wrist, so Madam Hooch took him to the Hospital Wing. He had dropped his Remembrall, so Malfoy picked it up and took off into the air. He said he was going to leave it on the roof, so I went after him. Only he threw it, and I don't know, some instinct told me to fly after it, so I did."
"Did you catch it?" the Headmaster asked merrily.
"Yes, but I almost hit the wall. I had to roll over to keep from falling." A couple of gasps followed his statement, and his uncle loomed over him.
"Did last December teach you nothing? Do you want to end up back in St. Mungo's for a week?" Harry shook his head, forcing himself to keep his head up. Nothing annoyed his uncle so much as not looking him in the eye when spoken to. Flitwick squeaked and jumped on a chair.
"Professor, did you not hear him? The boy has talent!" Severus rounded on the small wizard.
"That does not matter! What matters is he broke school policy and endangered himself."
"And he shall be punished, Severus," came the Headmaster's voice, "But you cannot deny that the boy does possess James' talent." Harry's brow furrowed as he thought about the Headmaster's words. He knew his father had played for Gryffindor, but he was a Chaser.
"Sir?" Harry finally managed.
"Dear boy, your father was an extraordinary Quidditch player. Though he loved his position, no one could deny is overall talent. The truth is, he could have played any position just as well." Harry noticed Professor McGonagall hiding a proud smile, and it took all his effort not to smile too. "Now, you will serve a week's detention for breaking the school rule, and I'm sure Severus will see to it that Mr. Malfoy gets his punishment as well." Severus nodded curtly, though his eyes remained focused on Harry.
"However," the Headmaster continued happily, "With the permission of his Head of House, I would like to propose that Harry try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."
"But Headmaster! First years are not allowed!" McGonagall cried.
"The boy has talent, Minerva, and he is currently excelling in all his classes. I think he will do well as the Ravenclaw Seeker." Professor Flitwick squeaked at this and smiled at Harry proudly. And though still angry with the boy for his foolish stunt, Severus couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his nephew.
"I suppose you would never forgive me for disallowing it," Severus said, turning to Harry. "But mind you, one slip in your classes, and I shall pull you off immediately." Harry beamed at his uncle, nodding vigorously. He stopped himself from wrapping his arms around the man's waist in glee and settled for beaming giddily. "Well, no nephew of mine is going out there half-shod. I shall buy you a broom, but it is to stay in my rooms, not in the dormitories with you, until next year." This time, Harry couldn't contain himself, and he launched himself at the Potions Master. Severus patted the boy on the back, then pushed him back by his shoulders. "I shall see you have dinner, Harry. Headmaster, Professors." He acknowledged each of them before leaving to his classes. McGonagall cast a scrutinizing eye at the boy before departing as well, and the Headmaster laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Professor Flitwick will escort you to your next class, Harry. And congratulations." Harry quickly thanked the wizard and scurried off with his Head of House to his DADA class. Taking a seat in the back, his mind wandered to Quidditch and his new friends. Harry decided that he definitely loved Hogwarts, almost as much as home.