Chapter 4

Harry had asked some upper years about the materials needed for his classes, and he felt he had enough notes to get through the lessons. He'd already used the time wisely, both reading up on the material and practicing it, not in the same place of course the librarian wasn't keen on students using magic amongst her books.

Fishing a juice carton out he then shrunk his trunk and popped it in his pocket, returning to his notes. Harry had found several spells that he could use to live a more comfortable life. The levitation spell and the featherlight spell would be handy for all those times he needed to handle heavy bags of soil in his aunt's garden, and the warming spell would be excellent for chilly days. The repairing spell would be brilliant in general. The summoning spell was really handy to get things off high shelves, and the banishing spell would put them back. The packing spell could save time with his trunk, granted he could still pack it by hand, but if rushed for time it was a good shortcut. The cleaning charm was a great way of saving time dusting and moping. Being able to use the elements would be helpful as well, the water spell especially could be used for watering flowers. The unlocking spell would help if his relatives decided to lock him outside, like they had done quite a few times already. It would also unlock his new room door (which his uncle had put multiple locks on as if he were caging some sort of rabid animal) so he could get to the bathroom instead of using that horrible bucket the times his uncle locked him up for days on end. And he had heard there was a spell that helped people retain information far quickly than usual, if he could just get his hands on that one his already good memory would be perfect

He also found ways to guard your mind against mind reading (which he was horrified about, he didn't want people he didn't like knowing what he was thinking about them, such things were supposed to stay secret!) and made a note in capital underlined letters to practice until he could block anyone from seeing his private thoughts. Although, the idea of seeing into other people's minds would be kinda cool, but then he'd be a hypocrite, so that was a no go. Sigh.

There was so much useful magic he could learn, he really needed a way to break the trace on his wand so he could actually use it without getting into trouble.

The weekend passed and finally he started classes on magic.

And boy did he get in bother. Just about every teacher asked why he didn't have his books, why he was using paper instead of parchment, and some didn't even know what his pen was until he eventually had to show them. Thankfully it was the charms professor, really nice guy, and Harry was allowed to keep using his pen in place of a quill. Professor Flitwick even looked enlightened by the easy and blotch free way Harry was able to write.

Professor Snape, the potions teacher, wasn't so enthusiastic about his change of materials.

'Potter! What is that?!'

The yell startled Harry, and he looked up to find the man looming over him. Creepy. No wonder the upper years were terrified of him.

'This sir? It's a pen'.

'And why, pray tell, are you not using a quill?'

'I've never used a quill before and because of magic hating relatives I wouldn't have been able to practice using one if I had bought them, and since a pen uses ink and doesn't make nearly as much mess, I decided to use it instead'.

'I see. You believe yourself to be above the rules of this school' Snape sneered.

Harry frowned a bit.

'I didn't see any rule about using pens'.

He'd double checked to ensure he could use pen and paper without getting into trouble, and found there was indeed no rule against it. Didn't really stop the professors questioning him, nor did it stop Professor Snape snatching the pen out his hand and making a show of destroying it. Unfair!

'You will write with quill and ink, on parchment, just like everyone else Mr Potter! Ten points from Gryffindor for your ignorance!'

Harry looked at the mush that was his pen, glad he had more and wondering if he should charge the man for its destruction. A whole ten pence! But the rules were on his side and so he stood his ground. Points really didn't bother him, though from the groaning he knew he was going to get grief from his housemates after class.

'What's wrong Mr Potter? Too lazy to find a quill?'

The Slytherins sniggered but Harry just ignored them, he'd had years of practice from Dudley and his gang. Picking up his potions book he flicked to the chapter regarding properties and preparation and started to read.

'Ten points for your arrogance!' Snape snarled, making a grab for the book.

But Harry was faster, and whipped it away from the man's grasp.

'I know the material sir, I've read about how ingredients react with one another and how to properly prepare them, not that I'm saying I'm an expert. I can also see the blackboard very clearly and will be able to make the boil cure potion. The notes would have been for my benefit, but I can write the rest of them later'.

He was quite happy at being able to see the blackboard so clearly. Hagrid, when Harry mentioned his poor eyesight, had pointed him in the direction of an eye shop tucked away in the corner of the alley. It was expensive, but since he had the money in his trust vault he felt it was a worthwhile purchase. It meant he'd arrived at Hogwarts without the need for glasses.

The class had gasped at his actions, Gryffindors totally forgetting about the point loss, and Professor Snape seemed to get angrier with each word spoken.

'Arrogant, selfish layabout just like your father! He thought himself too important to learn as well! Fifty points for your cheek!'

When Harry just nodded it set the man off.

'GET OUT OF MY CLASS!'

Calmly closing his book and picking up his notepad, cauldron and phials Harry stood and left, fighting the urge to run screaming down the corridor. The man could make people wet themselves, Harry bet people already had! He had the lesson plan from the upper years, and the notes from the library and his book, he would just need to have a shot making the potion somewhere else, without scary men looking over his shoulder.

It took less than a day for him to be called to the Headmaster's office, and he declined a lemon drop while the old man gently berated him. Harry did at one point try to tell Professor Dumbledore of Professor Snape's actions, but the Headmaster didn't seem to listen, telling Harry that he needed to respect Professor Snape's orders. In fact, the man spoke as if Harry were a toddler taking a temper tantrum because an adult took away his toy, and even making out that Professor Snape was in the right by screaming at him and insulting him for no good reason!

He left that meeting feeling angry. The man was clearly a bully and yet the Headmaster appeared to be allowing it to happen! Again he thought, this was supposed to be a school! A teacher like Professor Snape would have been thrown out of a muggle school years ago with that kind of behaviour! And the Headmaster should be looking out for the students. This was not what he signed up for when he agreed to go to Hogwarts, and it had only been a couple of days!

Well there was no point fussing over it, although he was going to learn the repairing spell as soon as he could to save his remaining things from Professor Snape's wrath. And a shielding spell, he decided during his next potions class (which the man grudgingly allowed him into, even though Harry would have preferred to be anywhere but there). The Slytherins were hell bent on sabotaging the Gryffindor's cauldrons, and Professor Snape appeared to be allowing them to! Harry had only just saved his own cauldron with quick reflexes, and in turn got points taken for "attempting to sabotage Mr Malfoy's potion". It was pathetic, it really was. At least Harry didn't loose any more pens, although there were a few close calls.

At least he was enjoying his other classes, and once his teachers realised he was taking notes and doing his homework just like everyone else, they left him be. Flying class turned out to be quite fun, and for once Harry was actually thinking of buying something other than daily essentials. The decision was taken out his hands when Professor McGonagall saw him catching Neville's rememberall (stupid Draco with his stupid need to show off and insult and boast and annoy and…had he already said show off? Ooh my daddy taught me how to fly when I was a baby, and now I know everything there is to know about flying and you're stupid cause you've never flown in your life and thus don't know how to use a broom…stupid brat) and had him talk to Oliver about getting on the Quidditch team. He didn't really want to be on the team, besides first years weren't even allowed. But she had gone all out to get him on and even bought him a broom, which to be fair was pretty cool. Even better it was able to shrink down into his trunk. No point in excess baggage after all, Hedwig being the only (and obvious) exception, she was always flying in to say hello and nick a few strips of bacon, daft bird.

OOO

'TROLL! TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!'

Trolls, twelve feet and one ton of magic resisting muscle, with brains the size of a pea (ok maybe a bit bigger but not much) usually with something large, like a tree trunk, that they use as a weapon. Eep!

Harry was almost out the great hall when he suddenly remembered the girls talking about Hermione being in the bathroom, and thus wouldn't know about the deadly beast wandering the halls.

He was going to punch Ron for that.

'Hermione! She doesn't know!'

And he was going to make sure the red head went with him, he caused the problem he can help fix it!

How was a mystery.

Though he hadn't counted on coming face to face with the blasted thing. Wasn't it supposed to be in the dungeon?! Thankfully, they were able to use the Troll's stupidity against it, with Harry distracting it (ok so he could admit jumping on it's head and ramming his wand up it's nose wasn't the best idea, Troll bogies aside, but really what did people expect from a scared eleven year old?!), Ron was able to get the club out it's hand and clobbered it over the head. Troll 0, Gryffindor 1, pretty wicked for a couple of frightened kids.

The teachers didn't find it so amusing, but the trio came out unscathed and that was all Harry cared about. He wasn't sure he'd make it back to the common room with his jelly legs, but in the end he managed to smile about it. Not very often kids took on a Troll and won.

Plus it got Hermione off his back since he technically saved her life. Though he wasn't sure what was worse, Hermione the nagging housemate, or Hermione the nagging friend.

Although if the Troll was scary, Harry's first quidditch match was downright terrifying. And damn that Oliver for making it worse with his getting knocked unconscious for a week story. Or was it a month? Or something in between. He couldn't remember, too busy trying not to faint to really listen. Something he had noticed about the game was how people seemed to depend almost entirely on a tiny golden ball. He couldn't work out why the snitch was in the game in the first place, it practically won a match on its own right. Couldn't they set a time limit and whichever team makes the most scores at the end wins? Crazy magical world adding on excess and unneeded baggage.

Harry was really only here for the flying, so when he spotted the flash of gold he almost didn't bother going for it. But with a sigh he pushed himself forward, Oliver wouldn't be happy if he didn't at least try to catch the silly ball.

He was quite happy to go at his own pace, but when the Slytherin seeker deliberately flew into him, it was on!

Eyed narrowed Harry leaned forward on the broom, making himself as streamlined as possible, and rocketed forward like a bullet, his sights on that snitch. Behind him he heard the Slytherin seeker growl and try to catch up, but Harry was through letting the Slytherins get away with murder. He zigzagged back and forth, blocking the jerk, then swerved sharply to the left and left the guy bewildered in the dust. Oh he knew he'd just went the opposite direction from the snitch, but he was going to show them he was no pushover.

'And Harry Potter goes in the opposite direction! Harry what are you doing?!' Lee screamed into the mic.

Smirking Harry suddenly pulled his broom upwards, and the crowd watched stunned as he performed one of the fastest loop de loops they'd ever seen, shooting down and swiping the snitch right out from under the gobsmacked Slytherin's fingertips, executing a twisting motion to slow his broom. Grinning Harry held up the little golden ball. Take that snakes!

'He's got it! Harry's got the snitch! That was incredible! I've never seen that move, and from such a distance! He stole the snitch right out from Higg's grasp! One hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor! And Gryffindor wins!'

The stands were roaring as the teams landed, Harry had but a moment to orientate himself before he was swept up to ride on Oliver's shoulders.

'HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!' the team chanted as he was carried to the changing rooms.

He could get used to this, perhaps quidditch wasn't so bad after all.

OOO

A Dragon. A castle sized (when it grew up according to Ron), fire breathing, flesh eating Dragon. Harry was right, the magical world was mad.

'C'mere 'arry, I've got sometin te show yer'.

No, no no no he didn't want to see any more blood thirsty animals, thank you.

Hagrid never gave him the choice, leaving Hermione and Ron with the Dragon while he rummaged through a cupboard.

Please don't be a giant spider, please don't be a giant spider, please don't be a…

'A book?'

'I know you don't like a lot of stuff 'arry, but I thought you could use some pictures of yer parents. You can say it's an early Christmas present. I tried not to make the album too big, so's it can fit in yer trunk'.

Slowly Harry lifted the book out of the man's hands, flipping to the first page. A handsome man with a cheeky grin had his arm round a most beautiful woman, and in her arms lay a tiny baby boy.

'Harry, are you ok?' Hermione asked.

'Yeah! Yeah I'm fine. Just got something in my eye'.

He wiped away the tear and smiled at Hagrid.

'Ok, this I don't mind keeping. Thank you'.

'Aww 'arry!'

'ACK! HAGRID…! CAN'T…BREATHE…!'

OOO

Yawning Harry stretched and stumbled out of bed, pushing Scabbers off his pillow (perverted rat, he was sure of it) and wondering why in god's name Ron was yelling for him.

'Harry come on! We've got presents to open!'

He blinked.

'Eh?'

Ron rolled his eyes and pulled his friend over, sitting crossed legged and grabbing the first box with his name on it, tearing the paper in a frenzy of excitement.

'Come on Harry, open them and see what you've got!'

Wincing Harry sat and picked up the first box. He really didn't want anything, something he was actually grateful to the Dursleys for (since the most they'd ever got him was a bent coat hanger, which was used to pick his cupboard lock so he could sneak food). But he opened his gifts anyway, and found to his delight that those who had given him something had done it practically, well mostly. Ron's mother made him a jumper, which was nice and warm and ideal since someone (he suspected Draco as he'd been hit in the back, had he mentioned how much he hated the brat?) had practically destroyed one of his warm tops. Mrs Weasley also gave him some toffee, which he could live with if he just shared most of it with others. Hermione had a week ago asked to borrow Hedwig, which was fine since the daft owl was dying for a good fly, and with the link to her parents open she'd got Harry some more pens and notepads, and also a nice watch, since he did sometimes loose track of time. And Ron got him a rather horrid orange poster of the red head's favourite quidditch players. Harry was tempted to send it to the Dursleys, but in the end figured it wasn't too big a possession and could easily fit in his trunk, deep deep down in his trunk.

He also got a strange cloak from a mysterious sender, a cloak that made him invisible. Had it been a normal cloak he would have been inclined to sell it, but one that made him invisible, now that was a handy thing to have, especially since the book with the information retaining spell, and one that could hopefully see to the wand trace, were both in the restricted section. At least according to the twins, who had snuck in there more times to count and had already took the trace off their wands, and of course Lee's wand as well. And perhaps Harry could even hunt down a book to help him find the elusive junk room hidden away somewhere in the castle. He really couldn't understand why a junk room was hidden in the first place.

'Cool! Can you imagine what we could do with an invisibility cloak?!'

Harry fought the urge to groan. He would need to include Ron in his exploration of the restricted section otherwise he'd never hear the end of it. He pretended not to see the hint of envy in the red head's eyes as he gazed at the cloak, he wasn't giving Ron the satisfaction of starting an argument over material possessions (and he knew the red head would just love to tell him how lucky he was to have so much money in his vault and how crazy he was for not wanting to spend it).

Thankfully when Harry mentioned it to the red head, the thought of sneaking to the library of all places put Ron off, and Harry was able to make the trip a few days later. And it must have been his lucky day, because the retaining spell was just a couple of rows down from the trace spell (the twins had told him which shelf the book was on, they hadn't told him about the books that screamed at you when you opened them though, crazy magical world).

Of course his luck couldn't hold out forever, and part way through practicing the wording for the trace spell he overheard voices and needed to hurry out the library before he was discovered. He had however taken notes, so all wasn't completely lost. He spotted Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell as he left, the pair talking about something in the third floor corridor. Harry remembered seeing Professor Snape with a limp after the Troll incident, so obviously the Headmaster wasn't kidding when he said there was something dangerous up there, if the man had indeed been up there that day. Harry left the subject well alone, preferring to pretend he never heard a thing, and moved swiftly back to his dorm room. As he passed an abandoned classroom a flash of light caught his eye. Pausing he about turned and pushed the door open a bit, curiosity getting the better of him (not very often that happened, curse his new found ability to see gold flashes and think snitch!) His interest died fast. A mirror, a large elaborate gold mirror. Muttering about crazy people with their crazy need for useless expensive junk Harry left without even taking a peek. After all it was just a mirror.