If Things Were Different: The Sorcerer's Stone
Chapter Nine: James?
Summary:What if Harry left the Dursley's behind? What if he grew up far from Privet Drive?What if he wasn't a Gryffindor? What if he had different friends? What if he wasn't the golden boy that they wanted him to be? AU first year. NOT slash. R/R
A/NHere's this chapter, I'll try to get another one in before the week is over. Thanks to:
SlytherinDamian: Im glad that the chapter answered your question... I'm glad you continue to be lost in my poor excuse of a HP universe. lol. Yes, I agree, snakes are much better than monkeys.
Fallen Dragon: Your wish is my command.
Irish Rover: If you can't wait to read more, then stop reading this and get on with the chapter! lol.
Mystical Witch: Hope my potions class lives up to you expectations... let me know what you think
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, except a bit of the plot and/or new characters. Also, I may use some descriptions/quotes from the book. Don't sue.
*****
Harry let out a small groan as he walked into the Potions corridor. Why did they have to have the class with the big headed Gryffindors?
Ron Weasley stood flanked by Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan at the entrance to the Potions classroom, laughing at Neville Longbottom (The boy who had lost his toad on the train) as he picked up his books up off the ground.
"So, Weasel, you decided that you'd fuck with your own kind, instead of us Slytherins, aye?" Harry said as Ron kicked one of Neville's books across the corridor. "Of course, Longbottom here is probably a bit easier than us, isn't he?"
"Keep your slimy face out of this, Potter." Seamus defended Ron, before turning back to taunt Neville, "What's the matter Neville? Can't even defend yourself? Sorting Hat probably made a mistake with you. Don't see how you got in Gryffindor."
"Perhaps you'd like to be on the receving end, Weasel?" Harry then reached over and knocked Ron's books out of his hands and smirked as they crashed to the floor.
Ron's face went red with anger and embarassment and he lifted a finger and pointed it at Harry. "You slimy Slytherin trash, you'll pay for this!" He cried and raised his fist and began charging towards Harry.
Harry calmly side-stepped and Ron went running straight into the corridor wall, giving himself a bloody nose. When they realized that their friend would most likley require some help Dean and Seamus turned from Longbottom and headed towards Harry.
In a blink of an eye Harry drew his wand and hit both of the boys with the leg-locker curse and stepped back as they both went toppling helplessly to the floor.
"You guys are going to get in so much trouble! Magic in the corridors is strictly forbidden, not to mention fighting! Just wait until Snape gets here." A bushy haired Gryffindor was looking accusingly back and forth between Harry and the three defeated Gryffindors on the floor, quickly receiting all the rules they had broken. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were all suspended. Honestly, fighting in your first week!"
"Shove it, Granger." Harry mutterd to the know-it-all girl he recognized as Hermione Granger, before he turned back to his friends.
"You handled that nicely. Although, I found it rather amusing watching the Gryffindorks teasing one of their own." Malfoy said with a smirk on his face as he patted Harry on the back.
Just then Professor Snape walked into the corridor and stopped in mid-step as he saw the three Gryffindors lying helplessly on the ground while Longbottom finished picking up his books.
"What is going on here?"
"These Gryffindors tried to jump us Professor, honestly. Luckily Harry stopped them." Draco said in a very innocent voice.
"I see. Fifteen points from Gryffindor for provoking Mr. Potter." Harry turned to Draco and smirked, until Snape continued. "Five points from Slytherin, Potter, for use of magic in the corridors."
All the Slytherins were instantly taken back in surprise, they had never heard of Snape deducting points from a Slytherin. As Harry followed the rest of the class in behind Snape he was not feeling surprised, but instead, he felt a bit confused. Why had Snape seemingly stopped liking him ever since their trip to Diagon Alley?
Harry shrugged the thoughts off as he sat down in a seat next to Draco and began getting out parchment and a quill.
After he had finished calling roll Snape looked up at the class with his cold, black eyes.
"Your are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began in his quiet voice, keeping the classs silent without an effort. "As there is no foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe it is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep throught the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensaring the senses..." He paused and glanced around the room, "In fact, I don't expect some of you will make it through the year." He looked dircetly at Neville Longbottom as he said this, before continuing, "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Harry let a smirk cross his face. Snape may have been being an asshole to him latley, but he still had to give him his props -- he sure knew who to scare the hell out of a class.
"Did I say something funny Potter?" Snape asked.
Yep, he's definatly gone all asshole on me. Harry thought, before answering, "No, sir."
"Well then, Potter, perhaps the following question will humor you. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry thought about the question, trying to ignore Granger, who was waving her hand around like a madman, trying to gain Snape's attention.
Then it clicked, he had read about it over the summer while he was flipping through his Magical Drafts and Potions book. This particular potion's name had intrigued him, and he was quite anxious to attempt to brew...
"The Draught of Living Death, a very effective and strong sleeping potion." Snape was caught by surprise, he had obviously not expected Harry to answer his question.
"Good to see at least someone opened their text before coming to Hogwarts, five points to Slytherin." Harry smiled, he had won back the points he had just lost. Snape then turned to Ron Weasley, after all, he couldn't go through a first lesson without embarassing somebody.
"Tell me Weasley, where would youl look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Hermione's hand once again shot into the air and began waving around, Snape once again ignored her. As Snape turned to face Weasley, and away from the Slytherins, Harry and Draco pointed their fingers at Ron and smirked in satisfaction. He was clearly stumped.
"I don't know, sir."
"Maybe you should have taken a leaf out of Potter's book Weasley, and actually opened a book."
Ron then mumbled something under his breath, which obviously was not ment for foriegn ears. But somehow the phrase drifted across the room and Harry heard it quite clearly.
"Yeah, try to be like Potter, so I can practice on taking his place as dark lord when he's gone. No thanks."
"What was that Weasley?" Snape asked in a questioning voice, but it was clear to Harry that he too, had heard the comment.
"I said, 'Yes sir, I should have.'"
"Five points from Gryffindor for lying to a Professor, Weasley. And if I hear another comment like that one come out of your mouth, I'll see to it that you spend a month in detention."
Weasley's mouth was opening and closing like a grounded fish, he thought no one had heard him.
"And for your information, Mr. Weasley, a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most posions.... Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindor's after that. Hermione got told off, twice, for answering questions when not called upon, then Neville Longbottom's potion blew up and Ron was blamed for it (costing Gryffindor house another five points).
All in all, the Slytherin's left their first potions class in quite a good mood (seeing Gryffindor's making idiots of themselves will do that for you.) As Harry, Draco and Blaise made their way up to the Great Hall they came across an obstacle.
The overly-large man whom had guided the boats across the lake on their first night was blocking the entire corridor. He seemed to be collecting some sort of slime off the ceiling.
"Err, excuse me Mr. ...." Harry began but stopped when he realized he couldn't remember the man's name.
"Oi! Sorry about that James. Just collecting some Roctoplast-Slime for me garden."
"James?" Harry asked confused, that had been his father's name.
"Oh, sorry about that 'Arry, just look so much like ya dad. Here, let me get outa your way." The large man stepped aside and Draco and Blaise started to walk on by, but Harry didn't move.
"You knew my parents, Mr..."
"Me name's 'Agrid. Yeah, I knew your parents, two of finest people I ever did know..." His eyes glazed over slightly and started to tear up as he obviously became lost in memories from the past. He reached up and brushed one of the tears that had escaped off of his hairy face and looked down at Harry.
"Tell ye what. One of these days when you ain't busy, why don't you come down to me cabin and I can tell you 'bout them."
Inside Harry was jumping with joy, he didn't know anything about his parents, except that Voldemort that had killed them. Of course Harry didn't let any of his emotions sink through to his face and he simply answered, "Yeah, that would be good."
With that he joined Draco and Blaise and made his way out of the dungeons.
****
The next day was Slytherin's first flying lesson, with Gryffindors. As Harry, Draco, Blaise and Audrey made their way out onto the grounds (followed closely, of course, by The Dimmwits, Crabbe and Goyle), Harry expressed his frustraion.
"Just what I need, to make a fool of myself in front of Weasley and know-it-all-Granger."
"Don't worry about it, I know the Weasel is going on about how good he is on a broom, but its probably all talk.... I, of course, might make you look like a fool. Afterall, its not every wizard that can escape a muggle helicopter on a pitifull Cleansweep Seven."
As Draco made this comment all his friends (aside from The Dimmwits) all made sounds of complaint. They had all heard Malfoy's very elaborate, and obviously made-up, story of how he had narrowly escaped an army muggle helicopter.
"Not again." Harry moaned as, much to Draco's amusement, he began telling the untrue story again, The Dimmwits hanging on to every word which came out of his mouth.
To the change the subject, Audrey piped up, "What's the deal with that stupid Remembrall of Neville's?"
"Yeah, what an idiot." Harry agreed.
"What do you say he loses it before the week is up?" Blaise joked in his quiet, unemotional voice.
Draco, who realized he wasn't getting any attention from his more-intellingent friends joined the conversation. "Yeah, I bet it would make a good practice Snitch." They all laughed as they arrived at the Quidditch Pitch and made their way over to the lines of broomsticks.
Before long the Gryffindors showed up, followed by Madam Hooch, their teacher.
"What are you waiting for, everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Harry broom which looked slightly better for the wear than some of the others, Draco and Audrey picked the brooms on either side of him.
"Stick out you right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch, "and say 'UP'"
"UP!" everyone shouted. Harry's broom was one of the few brooms which actually came to him on the first try. It took Draco three trys to get his up, while the poor Neville Longbottom boy's broom didn't even flip over on the ground, like Granger's had.
Once Madam Hooch had shown them the correct way to mount their brooms (Draco had been doing it wrong) she called out, "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three -- two --"
The ever nervous and jumpy Neville kicked off early. "Come back, boy!" The professor shouted. But he didn't. He shot up like a cork, ten feet, twenty feet -- thirty --. Then, suddenly, he lost his grip and came sliding down sideawsys of his broom and --.
CRACK -- Neville was laying facedown in the grass, his arm twisted at an odd angle.
Madam Hooch rushed over to him. "Broken wrist, come on boy -- its alright, just a quick visit to the infirmary will fix you up." She then turned to the class, "None of you is to move while I'm gone. If you so much as hover and inch you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'"
As soon as she was gone Ron and Seamus burst out in laughter.
"Did you see his face!"
"Yeah, he ought to get transferred to Hufflepuff, the retard."
"Shut up." Harry commanded. He had been teased far to much in his younger days to see and innocent boy like Neville made fun of.
"Stick ou of our buisness, Potter." Seamus spat before turning back to laugh again with Ron.
"Look!" Ron called in delight, "There's the blokes Rememberall that his gran sent him."
"Hand it over, Weasel."
"If you want it Potter, come and get it." Ron grabbed the glittering ball and mounted his broom, taking off and hovering near the top of a tree. "Maybe I'll leave it up here."
"Ron! Please come down, Gryffindor's already lost enough points!" Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor geek called up.
Harry grabbed his broom and mounted it, kicking off hard against the ground. He quickly rose through the air, the wind rushed through his unruly hair, his robes whipped around him. Then, all of a sudden, Harry realized he was flying, and, in some odd way, it felt right, like he was meant for it.
He heard screams and gasps from the girls below as he pulled his broom around and faced Ron.
"Give it here, you little bitch, or I'll stun you!" Harry called, pulling his wand out of his robes. Weasley looked terrified, and Harry knew it was the right time. He leaned forward and shot straight at the red head, calling out a boils curse, which missed as he closed in on the Gryffindor.
Ron only just dodged the curse and Harry, ducking just as Harry grazed by him. The Slytherins down on the ground were making quite a scene, stomping and chanting Harry's name as he turned around to face Ron again.
Ron seemed to realized he was screwed if he didn't do something soon, so he threw the ball as hard as he could, high in the air and streaked back to the ground.
As if in slow motion, Harry saw the ball fly through the air and begin to fall back to ground. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down. Wind was whistleing through his hair as he streaked towards a collision course with the ground. He was gaining on the ball, at just the right moment he reached out with his free hand and grabbed the ball, mere feet from the ground. He quickly switched the ball into the other hand, so it was holding both his wand and the ball, and pulled up as hard as he could with his know-free hand, toppoling gently to the ground.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Harry turned around, only one thought going through his mind, Oh shit.