They only had one lesson on Fridays. Double potions. Practically the whole House had warned the first years that even though Professor Snape favoured them somewhat, he expected them to all be very prepared. So Harry spent a portion of his morning waiting for Nott to wake up and reading back over the first few chapters of his potions book again.

Potions had caught his attention early after he had visited Diagon Alley the first time. It was infinitely useful. Most of what you could achieve through a spell, you could achieve through a potion. It was a very flexible discipline. He'd finished the assigned text and was most of the way through the other books he had picked up on the subject.

He would have looked forwards to it if his Head of House hadn't made it very clear that he, for whatever reason, did not like him. He wondered how that was going to translate to the classroom when Slytherins were supposed to show a united front in front of the other houses.

And they shared potions, a volatile subject, with the Gryffindors, their rivals. It was a recipe for disaster.

There were four to a desk so him and Nott picked the one at the back and shared it was Zabini and Greengrass. Davis had paired with Parkinson, Bulstrode and Runcorn had chosen to sit with them rather than Malfoy and his goons in the front row. On the right side of the room, the Longbottom Heir and Granger sat at the front with the half-blood Lily Moon and a muggleborn Faye Dunbar. The Gryffindor Patil and Lavender Brown were in the back row with Dean Thomas with Weasley and Finnegan in the middle row.

The room itself was dark and dank. He knew from Hogwarts, A History that potions had always been conducted in the dungeons due to the almost constant temperature throughout the year, fluctuations during storage could affect an ingredient when they were later used. Salazar Slytherin had supposedly been a Potions Master as well as a Master of the Dark Arts, so that was probably why the Slytherin common room was down there as well, apart from it's obvious defensive capabilities.

On the shelves were jars of preserved ingredients in brown and sickly yellow liquids. Creature bits and cuts from plants and other things Harry couldn't identify. He watched some of the Gryffindor's peer up at them with wrinkled noses and others, like the Longbottom Heir, shiver and shy away.

All in all the room had an overall oppressive and intimidating feel to it and the others couldn't even see the faint throbbing glow that surrounded some of the jars.

Then a side door swung open dramatically and their Professor swept in. The room became dead-silent and Professor Snape began calling out the register in his hushed but commanding tone. When he reached Harry's name there was a definite pause but he went ahead as if he was just another student. When he was finished he turned his tunnel-like black eyes to survey the class.

"You are here you learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," He began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of a softy simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep though the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death- If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed that speech and Harry thought silence was actually a common occurrence in Snape's class. He risked a look to his right to see Nott look at him too. They shared a look that clearly said that neither of them was going to be proven a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape snapped suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Granger's hand flew into the air and she held it there stiffly.

"Draught of Living Death, Sir." He answered with a slight tilt of his head, a show of submission that made him want to grind his teeth, but he needed the man on-side or at least not against him.

It was mentioned in the introduction as an example of a complex potion and all the common disastrous affects it could have when brewed wrong. They wouldn't be brewing it until sixth year, if they made it into the NEWT classes.

"And where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" He asked his lips slightly pinched.

The bezoar's he had ordered on Wednesday had arrived that morning so Harry was half tempted to just pull one out. But he was trying to get on with the man and Harry didn't think he would appreciate humour. He didn't seem to appreciate Granger's waving hand either. The Professor had asked Harry the question. Was she so sure he was an idiot or was she desperate for everyone to know she knew the answers too?

"In the stomach of a goat, Sir." That had been in the chapter on Health and Safety in a potions lab and was recommended to keep around in case of accidental poisonings.

"Finally, What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" His eyes had narrowed but his voice stayed neutral.

"Nothing, Sir. It's also known as aconite." That was an easy one, listed among the basic and common fauna of Britain in One Thousand Herbs and Fungi.

Snape paused.

"Five points to Slytherin." Then he stopped his keen focus on Harry and looked at the rest of the class. "Well, why aren't you all writing this down?"

Harry wasn't sure if that had been a test of some kind or if his teacher had been trying to show him up.

A sudden rummaging of quills and parchment followed. Soon they were set up in pairs and preparing a cure for boils. Thanks to his extra reading he knew the differences between chopping and slicing, unlike some of his classmates, mainly Crabbe and Goyle and the Gryffindors. Nott let him take the lead after about ten minutes when it became obvious that of the two of them Harry knew what he was doing the best.

Nott had whispered to him that his father held a low opinion of potions so hadn't added it to Nott's tutoring before Hogwarts. Harry promised to lend him the beginners book he'd picked up that explained the basics that their textbook seemed to assume they already knew.

Almost an hour into the lesson there was an explosion from the front of the classroom. When Harry looked up from his own potion he found that the Longbottom Heir as well as Granger, were covered in boils. They hadn't added enough ginger if they'd remembered to add it at all. Then one of them, probably Longbottom had added the porcupine quills while their cauldron was on the fire. The cauldron itself had melted and the ruined brew had splashed on the floor and begun eating it. Soon most of the class was balanced on their stools so as to the avoid the acidic liquid.

Harry balanced on his knees and kept stirring at a consistent gentle pace so as not to excite the Shrake spines. As it turned pink he added the stewed horned-slugs Nott had prepared.

"Idiot boy!" Snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with a flick of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Longbottom whimpered and Harry could see tears beginning to steam down Granger's face as she tried not to cry by biting her bottom lip.

"Take them to the hospital wing." He pointed at Finnegan and the boy quickly herded his injured Housemates out of the class room.

"Return to your work." He snapped at the rest of the class.

Some of them had left their brew unattended for too long and found themselves unable to recover. Harry and Nott's potion was perfect. Fifthteen minutes before the end of the class pink smoke began rising off of their potion and Harry had taken it off the fire to cool so he could bottle it.

He also bottled three more vials subtly and stuck them in one of his pockets. The potion could be used to cure the result of the pimple jinx and the boils hex, both of which sounded quite nasty from the description in their Defence against Dark Arts textbook. He was going to have to buy more potions vials as well.

It was sort of depressing every time he found how woefully under-prepared he had been coming to Hogwarts. He blamed this on Hagrid and therefore Dumbledore, who had sent him. He'd found out that McGonagall was the one who went to meet the muggleborns and introduced them and their parents to the wizarding world. The witch probably had a better idea of what he would need to know and what he would need to bring and in what quantities, had she been the one to bring him to Diagon Alley, knowing that that stuff wasn't on the acceptance letter.

He'd sent Nott to the front with their potion while he tidied up their workstation. He watched through his long fringe as the Professor took the potions vial from Nott and gave him a nod.

As the two of them left the classroom to return to the common room, Nott leaned in to him slightly.

"So did you spit in one of Snape's experimental potions, or what?" His deep brown eyes gleaming with humour.

Harry snorted.

"Yeah. Or what."

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After a careful look around at the memories he had procured he realised three things.

He had the theoretical knowledge for all seven years at Hogwarts. All the core subjects as well as Arithmancy and Runes because that was what Tom had studied when he attended. This meant he could likely sit his History and Astronomy NEWT in the morning and pass with an E or an O.

However, knowledge wasn't understanding. He had a certain amount of muscle memory so he could do the wand movements perfectly after a few tries and the incantation usually jumped into his mind when he saw a spell's movement even if it was cast wordlessly by one of the teachers. But it didn't help his magic do what he wanted it to do and if he didn't understand how a spell worked or what it did, it wasn't going to work at all. He got the transfiguration spells quicker than he did charms because of his own aptitude.

Thirdly, alot of the Dark Lord's memories were extremely unpleasant.

He hadn't really noticed at first as he stuck to school related memories that he thought would be useful to him as an almost clueless first year and hadn't strayed into the personal. Then he'd been woken on Thursday morning by another nightmare.

Nightmares were something he'd had to deal with all his life but it wasn't the familiar if horrifying death of his parents that time. Instead he'd been tried down to a bed while a priest read Latin over him making his insides writhe. He'd struggled against the ropes physically, knowing that if he used his power he would be in more trouble. As the man's voice got louder, explosions started sounding from outside the small grey room he was trapped in. A haunting siren began to wail and the bombs being dropped on London screeched before landing and sending crashes echoing to his ears but he priest just read louder.

He'd woken suddenly, sweating and gasping for breath, as his bed hit the ground from it's previous position hovering three inches in the air. He'd looked around wildly until the green curtains around his bed reminded him of where he was and who he was.

Was that Riddle's nightmare or was it his own as he assimilated the data that had been dumped in his head. A brief look confirmed that the muggle's who ran the orphanage Tom Riddle grew up in had tried to preform an exorcism on him. It hadn't banished his magic or what ever the muggles were trying to do, but it had done something. His magic had moved and throbbed, mildly painful, very uncomfortable and undeniably frightening.

Taking a shaky breath, he'd pushed aside his curtains and released the charms around his bed with his wand that had appeared in his hand as he woke.

Looking up he saw Nott half-standing up half sitting on his bed. It was early and the sun hadn't risen yet. The dorm was in semi-darkness only lit by the eerie green glow that emanated through the small round windows.

"You alright, Potter?" Nott had asked barely above a whisper.

Harry had nodded and cast a tempus charm. It was half five. Time to get up.

"Are you getting up?" Nott inquired mildly incredulous as Harry begun getting his stuff together.

Harry had nodded again and Nott slipped out of his own bed. Harry watched him get his stuff together out of the corner of his eye. He'd had the bathroom to himself so far because of his odd schedule and had managed to avoid any of the other boys seeing his scars.

But Nott had gotten straight into the shower after stripping down without a glance in Harry's direction. With his clothes just outside the shower stall, he risked removing his own pyjamas and slipping into the shower next to Nott's.

"Did I wake you up?" He said only loud enough to be heard over the sound of the water.

"Yeah but it's fine. Do you always get up this early? You're always in the common room waiting." Nott called back.

"Sometimes I get another half an hour. I'm used to waking up early." Usually to the shrill tone of his Aunt Petunia.

Harry finished his shower before Nott and quickly towel dried himself, throwing his clothes on before Nott emerged from his own shower, towel wrapped round his waist. He moved towards the sinks to put on his tie and grab his brush. His hair was damp so he ran the brush through it easily working out the knots. Nott soon joined him in front of the mirrors.

The other boy did use the toothbrushing charm. Harry watched him do it in the mirror. The incantation was simple enough.

"Do you have a book on personal grooming charms?" He asked.

It was sort of embarrassing but he was determined not to be embarrassed. He wanted to be a proper wizard. He wanted to clean his teeth with magic. He wanted to clean his eventual house with magic. He wanted to know everything Nott knew or would know about the wizarding world just by living in it.

Harry didn't want to stick out like the muggleborns did and he didn't want to treat magic like some theme park with flashing lights. It was a whole secret world with a history, a culture, a narrative all of it's own. He was part of it and it was part of his new life, one where he was strong and powerful and most certainly not a slave.

He wanted to assimilate.

"If you tell me who raised you." Nott said, looking at him in the mirror.

It was going to come out at some point, the fact that he had evaded subtle prodding had just made Nott more interested.

"My mother's sister and her husband." He kept eye contact as he said, keeping his face as blank as possible.

"You're mother was muggleborn." He didn't twitch or say it like it was a dirty word.

Harry inclined his head watching Nott's every move. Nott nodded too.

"I thought so." His voice was casual as he turned back to his own reflection. "You've done admirably well so far."

"Thank you." He said because Slytherin's had no time for modesty.

"I'll owl Father to send me a few different books." Nott did up his own tie.

Harry's eyes narrowed at the word few. People didn't do something for nothing, even do-gooders did it for their own personal gratification and that wasn't enough of a bargain for a snake.

"And in return?"

"I want you're help learning Occlumency. I know you know it." Nott turned to face him then. "You went into a meditative state too quickly for someone without practise and I saw you in Astronomy. What I don't get is how you can know it if you were raised by muggles?"

Silence hung between them. Eventually Harry spoke.

"I was raised by muggles. I can't tell you how I know the Minds Arts, especially if you can't protect your mind." He paused again, wondering if he was making the right move. "I have been wondering about legilimency. I thought I was going to have to wait to practise on the muggles but if I'm teaching you Occlumency, I will have to practise it on you to test your defences... And I wouldn't mind having my own defences checked as well."

He let the thought sit with the other boy a moment.

"I would demand a secrecy oath, going both ways. I won't tell anyone what I might see and you wont breath a word of what you might see." He continued.

It was a particularly big risk but it did have the opportunity for huge gain. Occlumency was usually learnt in pairs, master and apprentice. But two students could learn it together and it would be quicker and easier than learning alone. There was a small risk that Nott might find some of the Dark Lord's memories but they were at the very back of his mind behind a locked door.

Harry would have to fend off his attacks and find the best ways to defend his brain. And his as yet untested knowledge on legilimency would improve with experience. He would learn to slip in unnoticed.

Nott's eyes narrowed and Harry could tell he was considering all the angles of deal before them. Eventually the other boy nodded.

"We'll quibble over the wording of the oath later." Then Nott proceeded to teach him the teeth cleaning charm.

They spent the time waiting for everyone to join them in the common room discussing the merit of physical exercise. By the time the room had filled and it was time for breakfast Harry thought he had brought Nott round to his way of thinking, if only to excel at duelling. The other first years were all talking about their first flying lessons that were due to start that day.

Nott had a broom of his own but said he didn't ride it much. Harry himself was a bit nervous. He had imagined flight, of course but to actually do it was something else. And he remembered quite clearly Tom's first flying lesson as well, where he had nearly fallen off his room. He didn't want to make a complete idiot out of himself.

Malfoy told rather loud and concocted stories about his flying prowess that largely ended with him narrowly missing muggle helicopters. Then he went on to moan about the rules against first years being allowed to bring their own brooms.

Harry forced himself to eat a decent sized breakfast. He couldn't afford to miss a meal, even if he was mildly nauseous. Seeing the ancient looking brooms, with their clearly missing twigs and the tarnished varnish, didn't help that particular feeling.

He ended up standing in between Nott and Zabini at the other end of the line from Malfoy and his goons. The Gryffindors were lined up across from them. Quite a few of them looked nervous, biting their lips and giving the brooms fearful looks as though they might attack. Most of his house mates were pureblood and had therefore been on a broom before.

He distracted himself by giving the wards a look without drawing attention to himself. He could see so much more of it than he could the first night. Even in the day time the fine lines of woven magic hung in the air in a multitude of colours. Magic itself was glorious, but seeing it was breath-taking.

Madam Hooch swept through the class, giving them an extremely brief overview of how to fly, then individually corrected their stances. It didn't boost his confidence, even if the broom did jump right into his hand, and neither did watching the Longbottom heir fall ten foot out of the air and break his wrist. Harry heard the crack from where he stood and barely suppressed his own flinch, breaking bones was no fun.

Then she was taking the weeping Longbottom with her and leaving forty eleven year olds alone with flying brooms.

Almost as soon as she was out of sight Malfoy opened his big mouth. He honestly didn't think he would ever meet someone he disliked quite as much as Dudley but Malfoy was quicklyfinding himself competing with his over-sized cousin.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" He drawled laughing.

The Slytherin's closest to him burst out laughing and Harry watched as the Gryffindors reacted. All had frowns while others began to bristle at the slight against their housemate.

"Shut up." Snapped the Gryffindor Patil twin, with Lavender Brown at her shoulder

"Oh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Said Parkinson, with a smirk growing across her face. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati."

Harry watched with crossed arms as the Indian girl blushed. Her magic rippled with the embarrassment while most of the Gryffindor's around her seemed to puff up in indignation.

"Look!" Malfoy darted forwards and snatched something off the ground. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The gold and glass sphere glittered in the sunlight as Malfoy held it up for everyone to see. Harry had watched Malfoy try to take it from Longbottom that morning before McGonagall had intervened from across the room. He didn't know what it did but it was probably really expensive or really rare for Malfoy to give a crap about it.

"Hey! That's not yours." The Weasley boy piped up and the Gryffindors parted slightly so he could step forwards to stand in front of their group. "Give it here. I'll give it to him."

"I can see this ending well, don't you?" He murmured to Nott next to him.

"Are you sure you would? It's worth quite a lot; you could feed you family for years." Malfoy smiled nastily and Weasley went bright red. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect- How about... Up a tree."

"Give it here!" Weasley made a move to snatch the orb from Malfoy's hand but the blonde jumped on his broom and took off into the air.

He flew quite smoothly for all Harry could tell. It was obvious it wasn't his first time on a broom. Malfoy came to a stop and hovered about fifthteen foot in the air above them.

"Come and get it, Weasley!" He shouted back down, holding out the ball so they could see it as it reflected the light.

The sound of "Stop, you'll get Gryffindor in trouble!" pulled his attention back to the ground in time to see Weasley swing a leg over his own broom and kicked off into the sky after Malfoy. Granger cried indignantly behind him. The Gryffindor didn't fly quite as well as the Malfoy heir but he didn't fall off either.

Weasley circled Malfoy when he reached him and it looked like he was demanding Longbottom's ball back. The two of them argued mid-air for a moment before Malfoy brought his hand back and threw the glass orb with all his might. For a brief moment, Harry thought the Weasley boy would follow the orb and rescue his housemates property. Instead the boy launched himself at Malfoy and attempted to fight him without loosing his seat on his broom.

Harry's eyes watched the ball as it arced through the air and saw that it was about to smash against the wall of the school. A quick glance at his classmates told him that everyone's attention was on the fight still happening above them. Malfoy attempted to steer his own broom to the ground while forcing Weasley to fall off his own.

He found the near transparent ball again and just as it was about the break into a thousand pieces, he reached out with his magic and grabbed in. It hovered in mid air for a moment and Harry took a breath as he lowered it to the ground and through the air towards him. He'd practiced moving things through the air for years but never something so far away. As it got closer he held his pocket open and made the ball hop in.

Turning back, he was in time to see Malfoy and Weasley careening into the ground in a heap, snapping one of the brooms and a few bones. Professor McGonagall came running out of the building seconds later and waved her wand and conjured two stretchers and levitated the groaning boys on to them.

"That was certainly entertaining." Nott whispered to him sardonically and Harry had to snort.

He and Nott made there way to the common room to grab their bags so they were ready for their class after lunch. When the two of them were alone in the dorm room, Harry casually pulled out the glass orb.

"Do you mind if we stop by the hospital wing?" He rolled the ball between his fingers.

"Why? To laugh at Mal-" He paused as he turned and saw what Harry had in his hand. "How?"

"I thought we'd return it to Longbottom."

Nott narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Harry paused and looked at the white smoke billowing about in the glass orb.

"He's isolated... And rather good at Herbology." He shrugged and raised his eyebrows making himself look more innocent. "Maybe he needs a friend."

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There was another reason he was going to the infirmary. Longbottom wasn't popular or particularly good in their classes. In fact he probably would have sunk into the background if not of his consistent, sometimes explosive, mistakes. Nott had said that as far as he could tell Longbottom had never set foot into society, or likely out of his manor before coming to Hogwarts so he didn't have the connections that other Pureblood children had.

But he was supposedly good at Herbology. Harry hadn't seen it himself because they shared that class with the Ravenclaws but the Hogwarts Gossip Network worked non-stop and talked about everything. Plus he was a Pureblood heir with a seat or two on the Wizengamot when he came of age. But most importantly, he was also quite powerful when compared to their classmates, something only Harry could see. Why he wasn't preforming was a bit of a mystery as Harry could see his magic swirling under the surface.

Harry thought he was worth a poke at the very least.

He led Nott to the hospital wing and by then, Nott didn't even bat an eyelid at Harry's familiarity with the building. It was on the third floor not far from the Grand staircase, Harry assumed it was so the injured could be moved more easily from any part of the school. The two of them paused when they reached the double doors.

Harry poked his head around one of the doors. There were about fourteen beds lined against each wall but there was room for more if it became necessary. A door at the far end no doubt led to Madam Pomphrey's office and one or two private rooms that rarely got any use. On the walls were large portraits of healers and their patients.

Malfoy and Weasley were in beds about halfway up the door on either side of the room. The Healer had obviously treated the two of them already as they were both fast asleep and probably mildly drugged. Longbottom however was at the other end of the room, away from the other two and sitting up in his bed.

Madam Pomphrey bustled towards him so he straightened and took a further step into the room. Nott followed, standing in the doorway.

"Neither of you are injured, I hope?" She asked in a clipped but quite tone.

"No, Ma'am. We came to check on Longbottom before our next lesson. We won't be long Ma'am." He assured her.

She pursed her lips before she nodded. "Keep the noise down so as not to disturb my other patients."

"Of course. Thank you, Ma'am"

Longbottom's eyes grew wide as the two of them approached his bed. He had a soft face, baby fat still rounding his cheeks. Blonde hair sat on his head maybe a shade or two darker than Dudley's.

"Potter." He introduced himself, holding out a hand for the boy to shake as he made it round the side of his bed.

"L...Longbottom." He answered as he shook the offered hand.

He had a weak grip, hesitant. Longbottom blinked at the two of them as if he wasn't sure if they might attack him or not.

"Nott." He stood at the end of the bed and nodded to Longbottom as he watched him with a somewhat disinterested look.

Harry kicked the chair next to the boy's bed away slightly so as not the crowd the boy before he sat in it. He slouched back in the chair and spread his legs in a relaxed pose.

"So when are you getting out of here?" He asked, watching the boy through half-lidded eyes.

"Just b...b...before dinner." Longbottom's hands were clasped in his lap nervously.

Harry nodded. "No serious damage then. That's good."

"Yes." Longbottom agreed, his eyes flicking over to Nott.

He seemed to take his cue from Harry and had adopted a slightly slouched position and wasn't even looking in Longbottom's direction. Instead he was idly taking in the details of the far end of the infirmary. Harry decided to let the silence hang between them, waiting to see what Longbottom would do.

It took a minute or two, in which Longbottom got more and more fidgety

"What are you doing here?" He eventually asked.

Harry casually reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out what Nott had told him was a Remembrall. The white smoke was supposed to turn red when you forgot something. Harry had asked 'something' like what? No one remembered everything. Nott had just shrugged.

"We came to return this. It must have fallen out of your pocket." He held it out for the other boy to take.

Longbottom reached out hesitantly, ready for Harry to snatch it back. But he didn't.

"Thanks." He looked down at orb in his hand. "Ron said Malfoy threw it. That it had smashed."

"Well," Harry shrugged. "I caught it. Maybe don't tell anyone it was me who gave it back to you, you know."

Longbottom nodded and from the look on his face he did actually know. Or at least could tell that it could cause alot of trouble. He wasn't stupid. He just wasn't very confident.

Harry stood up. "I'll see you around Longbottom."

"Yeah. Yeah, see you, Potter. Nott."

When they were outside Nott finally spoke. "What was that about?"

Harry shrugged.

"I was socialising." He smirked.

Nott rolled his eyes but didn't ask again.

"Do you think Malfoy will find out it was you who returned Longbottom's Remembrall?" He did ask shortly before they arrived to their afternoon lesson.

"We'll see, won't we."