Chapter 8

~In Hogwarts, outside Snape's classroom, after Harry's meeting with Dumbledore~

Harry appeared down the hall from Professor Snape's class, and walked out toward the door. A few students saw him come out, but that didn't really matter in the long run. After all, who's going to walk up and say, "Hey, did you just appear in that corner in the one place that you can't Apparate into?"

Harry grinned. Now that would be funny.

Walking into the classroom, Harry found that most of the class was already there. It looked like the Ravenclaws would be sharing with the Slytherins in this class, sadly, Malfoy was in it. Hermione and Padma were as well, and Harry went and sat by them.

"Hey, guys," he said. "Had to head up to Dumbledore's. Did I miss anything?"

"No, just the Slytherins being Slytherins," said Padma. "It's cute to watch them try to insult me. All you really have to do is ignore them, and they work themselves up."

"It really is fun to watch," said Hermione absentmindedly, flipping through her book.

Harry laughed, and got out his book as well. Flipping to the index, he looked through the recipes. He saw that there were quite a few more potions that he didn't know, but he would have a decent headstart on the rest of the class.

All the students quieted down suddenly, and Harry looked up to see what was wrong. Looking at the back of the class, he found a bat-like man striding down the aisle, and Harry pulled his bag out of the way.

The man, presumably Professor Snape, stopped at the end of the aisle, and spun on his heel to take in his class. "I don't expect much of you," sneered the Professor. "I just hope you aren't a collection of dimwits like my last period. If you are, you will not enjoy the rest of this class." Professor Snape turned to the Slytherin side of the classroom. "Of course, my House will excel in this class. If they do not, they will have me to deal with."

Harry snorted. This man would be an easy target if Harry were fighting him. Just the way he held himself reeked of arrogance; Harry disliked the man immediately.

The Professor turned toward the noise. Seeing a student barely containing a smirk, Snape curled his lip. "You think this class will be easy, Mr. Potter? Very well, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry remembered this from the textbook. "It creates a Draught of Living Death, Professor."

Snape couldn't deny that, but he hadn't expected the brat to answer correctly, if at all. "Alright, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"There is no difference, sir, and it is also called aconite."

Snape was getting a bit fed up with twerp, and decided to have one more go at it. "Very well, where would I find a bezoar, and what would I use it for?"

"In the stomach of a goat, though a clam has been found that occasionally creates a bezoar instead of a pearl. As for what you would use it for, I believe it's a cure for all poisons."

Snape was victorious. "That is incorrect, Mr. Potter. A bezoar will not cure all poisons. Ten points from Ravenclaw."

Harry was furious. He had answered them correctly except for a minor detail. Using his empathy, he found that Snape was feeling triumph. This only served to make him angrier, and Harry almost exploded right there in the classroom. The fact that this man was that petty was disgusting, and Harry was not looking forward to the next few years with him. His only comfort was that he could sense that most of the class agreed with him; the dominant emotion in the classroom was annoyance.

As Snape continued with the class, Harry found that Potions was probably going to be the most difficult subject. The Professor trying to demean Harry at every opportunity was definitely not helping, but the real reason Harry would struggle was the simple fact that Harry was not very good at Potions. He remembered the ingredients, he remembered the steps, he just found some way to mess up each one.

By the end of class, Ravenclaw was in the negatives by twenty. Harry wasn't the most popular, but most of Ravenclaw understood that it wasn't his fault. Hermione had come up to him after the class, and after acting very cool towards him after the little trip to Hell, she said, "I'm sorry, Harry, that really wasn't fair. It must have been hard not to lash out at him." And with that, she left with Padma.

Harry headed off to his first class that was not with all of Ravenclaw. They had split in half, with half going to Herbology and half going to Astronomy. Harry would be going to Herbology with Gryffindor, and Hermione would be with Hufflepuff again in Astronomy.

Arriving at the greenhouses, Harry found some Slytherins beating up a Gryffindor. God, these Slytherins are annoying, he thought. Rushing toward them, he jumped at the biggest of the three. Kicking him in the square of the back, Harry immediately turned to the other two. One hadn't noticed, but the other was running at him. Harry stepped to the side like the Slytherin was a charging bull, and tripped him.

Harry felt like laughing. He could use the most obvious moves on these guys again and again, but he wanted the fight to end quick. Getting expelled because of fighting would not go down well with his parents.

Unnoticed by Harry, he had drawn quite a crowd. All the students had wanted to meet the American, so the word had gotten around fast that Harry was battling three fourth-year Slytherins. Now they stood around in awe. This Ravenclaw was not someone you wanted on the other side of the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Harry was fighting the last Slytherin. This one had to be the leader; he was the smartest and best at fighting. Instead of rushing Harry, he had gotten out his wand and was circling Harry. Harry grinned. Maybe this one would put up a bit more of a challenge.

The Slytherin threw a curse, and Harry dodged. Harry then swept the legs out from underneath the older boy, and elbowed him in the chest. This took him out of the fight just as effectively as knocking him out.

Harry shook his head in disappointment, looking down at him. "You guys need to work on your tactics. You might have taken me out with a few well-placed curses, if you had attacked me all at once. Instead, your gorillas ran after me without even telling you what was going on. Get yourself some new henchmen."

The Slytherin gritted his teeth and tried to respond, but he only managed to wheeze before giving up and laying his head on the grass.

As the rest of the students started to clear out, Harry walked toward the Gryffindor that the Slytherins had beaten up. The boy was curled up in the fetal position, shivering. Harry leaned down and tapped him, the boy slowly looked up.

"Hello," said Harry, offering him a hand. "The name's Harry MacLeod-Potter. What's yours?"

The boy tentatively took Harry's hand, as if expecting him to drop him and walk away. When that didn't happen, his confidence returned slightly and he replied, "Hi, my name is Neville. Neville Longbottom." He looked around at the Slytherins on the grass, and turned back to Harry with wide eyes. "Did you do that?"

Harry nodded. "They really weren't that smart. No doubt they'll forget about you and come back with backup in a couple of days, ready for some payback."

Neville shook his head. "And what will you do then?"

Harry shrugged. "Same thing. I'll just go a bit faster, and they'll drop like flies." Harry looked closer at Neville. He had a bruise forming on his neck. "Why were they beating you up anyway?"

Neville looked away. "I'm… erm… the Boy-Who-Lived, I guess. They didn't like that I killed their Lord."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "The Boy-Who-Lived through what? And what Lord?"

Neville squinted at Harry. "Do you really not… Oh. Are you the American?"

Harry nodded.

Neville nodded in understanding. "That explains it. A few years ago…"

~A few minutes later, in front of Herbology~

"So, now I'm famous for something I don't even remember doing," finished Neville. He sighed. "My Gran says I should be proud, but I just wish it didn't happen. I hate the attention it draws, like those Slytherins back there."

"But there have to be some people grateful for what you did, right?"

Neville chuckled. "You would think. Instead, they just seem to think it's all some big hoax. Like, they meet me, and they're like, 'this guy? This is the guy that defeated the Dark Lord?'"

Harry shook his head in disgust. "Wel, I'm sorry about that, Neville. I guess some people don't know how good they have it. I, for one, would like to offer my thanks, on behalf of Magical Britain," said Harry jokingly, holding out his hand.

Neville laughed and took it. "You're very welcome, good sir. After you?" he said, gesturing to the Herbology tent.

"Don't mind if I do," said Harry, ducking into the little greenhouse.

~After Herbology, in the Great Hall~

Harry walked into the Great Hall to almost half the school whispering and glancing at him. He was used to this; though for different reasons. In the muggle schools, he was notorious for the pranks he would pull on teachers and bullies.

Walking to the Ravenclaw table, he sat beside Hermione and Padma. Hermione turned to him with a disapproving look on her face. "Harry, did you really fight three Slytherins?"

"Not only that," said a second year Ravenclaw from down the table. "He fought them and won! He made it look easy!"

Harry looked at the Ravenclaw. "Did any of you notice the boy that the Slytherins had been beating up in the first place?"

The boy looked confused. "No, who was it?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to say, because it would be an embarrassment to him. Just know, Hermione that I don't go looking for fights. It was right outside Herbology, and I couldn't just walk past that."

Hermione studied his face, then nodded. "Alright, Harry. And," she looked a bit shy for a moment, "thank you."

Harry grinned. "You're very welcome."

Hermione blushed, and Padma cut in. "Sorry to interrupt, but what do you guys have next?"

Harry looked down at his schedule. "A flying lesson with Madam Hooch, with Gryffindors, and then History of Magic with Professor Binns."

Padma looked at her schedule, and agreed. "Yeah, that's what I have too."

Hermione said it was hers as well. When lunch was over, Harry went with the two witches out to the fields.

When there, Harry found brooms lined up side by side and a grey-haired witch standing at the end of the lines. He walked up to her and said, "I have a bit of practice with a broom from playing Qaudpot, or at least, I can keep up with the rest. What are we doing in this lesson?"

Madam Hooch looked at him a bit disdainfully. "Flying."

Harry was a bit annoyed at her rudeness, but perhaps she always had a student that said he would be better than the rest. Harry stepped back to Hermione and Padma. I guess we'll see how good these Brits are, he thought.

When most of the class was there, Madam Hooch began. "Today, I want to see no injuries of any kind. Do not fly off on your own unless I give you permission. Understand?"

When the class murmured agreement, she continued. "Now, step up to beside your broom."

Harry stepped up, as did Hermione and Padma beside him.

"Now, hold your hand out over your broom, and say, 'Up.'"

Harry held out his hand, and said "UP!" a bit forcefully, and the broom zoomed up to him. He looked up to see how the rest of the class was doing. He saw Padma had gotten it with her second try, while Hermione's broom was rolling on the ground. Neville's was struggling a bit, but it got up to his hand eventually.

Madam Hooch was just waiting for Hermione now, and she eventually just said gently, "Pick it up, dear."

Hermione did so, but she looked ready to cry. Harry put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed, then went back to the lesson.

"Now, step over it, and hold on firmly." Hooch surveyed her students. "You don't want to be sliding off the end."

Harry did so, and waited for the rest of the class. When they were ready, Madam Hooch walked around, correcting footing and grips. Harry looked over at Hermione, and helped her a bit. "You want your hands up a bit, otherwise you won't balance very well. You'll spread out your center of gravity, so you'll have less of a chance to fall."

Hermione adjusted her hands, and smiled at him gratefully. Madam Hooch walked by barely glancing at them, and Harry bent over his broom. He hadn't flown in a while; he was looking forward to this.

"Alright, class. When I blow this whistle, I want everyone to kick off from the ground firmly. Rise a few feet, then touch back down. Ready, one, two, THREE!"

When Madam Hooch blew her whistle, Harry rose up to above the class, and came back down. Then he watched the rest of the class. Padma was actually really good, but it was obvious the best in the class other than Harry was Anthony Goldstein. Anthony had gone up and back almost as fast as Harry.

As the class was settling down, Harry noticed that he couldn't see Neville. "Neville?" he called. "Neville!"

Madam Hooch looked at him, then her face paled and she started searching the sky. Harry, following suit, soon saw him flying out of control above the castle.

"There!" shouted Harry, and he got ready to fly up to him. That is, until Madam Hooch got to him.

"Mister Potter, you will not be flying up there. I don't need another student in the air to worry about."

Harry wasn't happy about it, nut he watched with the rest of the class as Neville flew out of control. Soon, he crashed into the side of the castle and fell down to earth. Madam Hooch rushed over to him, and saying something about staying on the ground unless they wanted to get expelled, helped him into the castle.

Harry watched as Anthony walked out to pick something up from the grass. "Well, what do you know? I've been wanting one of these."
"That's Neville's, I saw him get it at breakfast," said Ron.

Anthony looked at him, and said, "Does he have it now, Weasel? Didn't think so."

Harry walked up behind him and whirled him around. "Give it to me."

Anthony laughed. "And why should I do that? You could just take it for yourself."

"I could, but I won't because I don't believe in taking people's belongings when they're hurt or sick. Give it to me."

Anthony turned and grabbed his broom. Before Harry could stop him, he had flown out of reach.

Harry grabbed his broom as well, and flew up to meet him. "Give it to me, Anthony."

Anthony sneered. "Go and get it," he said, and threw it at the castle.

Harry flew by the class, pushing the broom as fast as it would go. Barely grabbing it before it smashed into the wall, Harry flew through a window to avoid a collision. Sadly, he flew into Professor Flitwick's classroom. With Flitwick and the students gaping at him in shock, he flew back out to the rest of the Ravenclaws.

With much cheering from the class, Harry touched down. Striding through them, he came to Anthony. "Listen up, Goldstein. If you don't clean up your act, things won't go well for you."

Goldstein just scowled, but he didn't argue. Suddenly, the class hushed, and Harry saw Professor Flitwick walking out to them. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry walked over to meet him.

"Mister Potter," began Professor Flitwick sternly. "Come with me please."

Harry followed Flitwick into the castle and up through a corridor. Harry stood by meekly as Professor Flitwick went into a classroom and came out with Roger Davies.

"Harry, I would like you to meet our Quidditch Captain, Roger Davies."

"We've met," said Roger warmly.

"Well, Roger, I don't think you've met under these conditions before," said Professor Flitwick happily. Harry was getting increasingly confused. Was he getting expelled or not?

Roger was confused as well. "What do you mean, conditions?"

"Well, I would like you to meet Harry MacLeod-Potter, Seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."

To say Harry was astonished was an understatement. Roger was surprised as well. "But, Professor, he's only a first year!" Roger looked at Harry sheepishly. "No offense."

"None taken," said Harry.

"Roger, I watched as this boy caught a Remembrall as he flew through my window. Age has nothing to do with it."

Roger looked at Harry. "Those Americans must be pretty good, eh?"

Harry was coming out of the euphoria he had fallen into. "You should meet my friend Jacob. He can crush me in Qaudpot."

"Well, we don't have Jacob, we have you. And I think, if you're as good as Professor Flitwick says you are, we might have a chance at the Quidditch Cup this year."

Harry grinned, and asked if that would be all. With Professor Flitwick's consent, he ran back and told the class what had happened. Anthony Goldstein looked a bit angry about this sudden turn of events, but Harry didn't care. He was on Cloud Nine and nothing was bringing him down.

Hey guys! So, I know I'm slowing down a bit with posting, and I'm sorry. I'm going to Phoenix Arizona this weekend and I won't be able to post until at least Tuesday.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and showed their support; you have no idea how much this means to me. I expected maybe a hundred people, tops, to look at my story. Instead, we are at 9,500 views and climbing! I'm hoping this chapter can put us at 10,000, that would be awesome. Now for the reviews.

Silver Dragonflymoon: Yes, you were! But don't worry, we got over that. I'm glad, and we will be hearing from the phoenix next chapter.

: I have read a few Harry-raised-by-Crowley Fanfics, but they are always Crowley taking him from the Dursleys or something like that. I had this idea and had to write it down. I'm glad to hear that you like my story, I hope you keep coming back for more.

RainDancin: You'll see soon!

Ana Luisa: Alegra oírlo!

Darlinator: You're awesome. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Gridline out.