Eee… I got a jooob. At Petland. I'm very happy. I get to go around all day playing with snakes and ferrets and kitties and puppies and bipolar parrots! It's fun, really. But I'm off today, so let's see if I can get a chapter written for my lovely fans!
Oh, and a bit of a warning… this chapter's gonna cover a lot of ground. There's one scene I wanted to change to fit in with my paradigm, and the rest… I'm kinda skipping forward until I get to actionly bits. So… this chapter spans from Harry's first few days through, oh… Hallowe'en. Basically I'm assuming that you all know the chain of events in the book, and they all happen here, just very slightly different unless noted otherwise.
Thanks to my reviewers: Hazel Maraa, cutieme012, BlackNeonTears, Becky Silver Black, Baranwyn, leafyaki, imakeeper, Aislinn of Azarath, uknowho, and alix33!
And do I really even need a disclaimer at this point? Naah. Didn't think so.
Harry's first few days as a student at Hogwarts were… interesting, to say the least. He'd assumed that having been there before to visit his mother would give him an advantage in figuring out his way around the castle. He quickly realized his mistake—the only places in the castle he knew how to get to were the Great Hall and the Runes classroom.
Fortunately he wasn't the only one constantly getting lost, though, and most of the professors were willing to overlook lateness for the first week. Harry was sure that Snape wouldn't be among them, however, and he and Ron got more and more anxious as they roamed the dungeons looking for the Potions classroom. Just in time, they spotted Hermione entering a classroom, and followed her, hitting seats near the front a split second before the bell rang.
Snape glared at them, but didn't say anything. Then his sneer deepened, and Harry knew he was about to be put on the spot. He wasn't entirely sure how he knew, but he knew. Part of it came from the stories his parents had told him about their former classmate. And part of it came from Harry's certainty that Snape hated him, for reasons unknown. Unless it was because when he was seven, he'd convinced Allie and Dara that Snape needed hugs, but that seemed unlikely.
Whatever the cause, Harry was quickly proven correct when Snape, after a brief speech, barked his name. "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"Uhh…" Harry racked his brain, noting that Hermione's hand was in the air. A memory saved him. He and Remus were in Hogsmeade, shopping for potion ingredients, and the werewolf—as was his habit—told Harry what all the various ingredients were used for, and he distinctly remembered Da saying that asphodel root was invariably used for one thing only. "A sleeping draught."
He'd spoken with a great deal more certainty than he felt, but it apparently paid off, if Snape's sour look was any judge. The professor's sneer intensified, and he asked another question. "And where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"An apothecary's." Harry conquered the impulse to grin when his response gained him a ripple of laughter around the room. He hadn't really meant to give a smartass answer, but that was where Mum always got bezoars. She said she needed them, the way half the household would eat anything on a dare, regardless of whether the thing looked remotely edible. "They're an antidote to almost all poisons."
Snape's sallow skin turned an interesting shade of red at the laughter, and he pinned Harry with a cold glare. Harry gritted his teeth, and met the angry gaze with a calm, reasonably respectful one. It was hard not to roll his eyes at the next question, however. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"There isn't one. They're the same thing, and they also go by the name of aconite." As if he wouldn't know that, living in the same house as a werewolf. Snape seemed displeased by the answer, which confirmed to the rest of the class that Harry was correct. The rest of the class period was torture, and he almost went limp with relief to get out of the class with only two points taken.
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Hermione adored Hogwarts. The classes, the professors—well, most of the professors, the castle itself. Everything about the entire place was awesome, in the oldest form of the word, meaning 'inspiring awe.' But her favorite part of Hogwarts—unquestionably and predictably—was the library. Even on the rare occasions when she wasn't studying, the library was her sanctuary.
Today, she was pondering the other students. Especially Harry Potter. He was an enigma, really. She'd expected the savior of the wizarding world to be, well, more powerful. Instead, he was… normal. There wasn't anything remarkable about the boy at all except for his scar, as far as Hermione could tell. He wasn't the cleverest student, he wasn't particularly good at any subjects, he got lost on his way to class at least once a day… It was really rather disappointing.
He was good at making friends, though. And of course, he had done reasonably well in answering Professor Snape's questions during the first Potions class. Hermione was sure that none of the other students could have done any better. Honestly, how did they expect to get ahead in school if they didn't study before class? … And he also seemed to have Professor McGonagall wrapped around his finger. Breaking who knows how many school rules by getting on that broom, and did he get in trouble? No. He got put on the quidditch team. And now this so-called duel… Really it was just too much.
Hermione had to do something. She wasn't sure what, yet, but… something. And she resolutely ignored the niggling little voice that insisted to her that Harry was very good at one thing. Getting out of trouble.
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The room was quite small, and generally rather dull, but Fluffy didn't really mind. It had been many years since one of his kind had been asked to guard an entrance to the underworld, and he took his responsibility seriously. The middle head did, anyway. The other two were slackers. If he hadn't been half-asleep the other night, those four little humans wouldn't have escaped.
And if they hadn't distracted him, the odd-smelling one wouldn't have gotten away tonight! Honestly, and they called themselves cerberi. At least he'd managed to bite the creature tonight. Although he wasn't sure he'd ever get the greasy taste out of his mouth. Pity the big one wouldn't come with food 'til morning.
The middle head of Fluffy sighed, and found an old bone to gnaw on.
Okay… in case you got lost, the last bit here is taking place while Harry, Ron, and Hermione are fighting the troll. I skimmed over the broom and quidditch bits, because frankly Harry's been on a broom before, and has seen quidditch games. Speaking of quidditch games, there's one coming up next chapter! Yaay!