OUTSIDE my window, I could see that it was still before sunrise when I woke the next morning and threw open the curtains surrounding my bed. The sky was just starting to lighten to a deep blue, and a glance at my watch showed that it was six in the morning on the dot.
My dorm mates were all still asleep when I'd finished grinding out alternating sets of pushups and crunches. Not sure of the proper protocol, I heaped the somewhat stinky clothing I'd worn over the summer on my bed, hoping the House Elves would launder them. A door opposite the first year dormitory led to a small shower area containing a pair of large, old-fashioned sinks on one wall, and several shower stalls on the other.
I luxuriated in the shower, making liberal use of the fragrant liquid soap dispenser on the wall, as I hadn't thought to buy any soap or shampoo in London and had had to make do with just hot water and vigorous scrubbing. By seven I was dressed in my Hogwarts robes, which had mysteriously acquired red and gold trimmings while I slept, and had my wand and watch tucked into a spacious inner pocket.
Leaving my roommates to their snores, I went downstairs to the common room. Still empty, the large circular room's stone floor and walls were covered with thick carpets and faded tapestries, making the space feel much cozier. The sun hung low in the sky, sending rays of warm light through the narrow arched windows spaced along the walls in regular intervals.
A massive, dormant fireplace was set into one wall, the wall on its left side covered in hand-written parchment notices. An array of comfortably plush armchairs were scattered haphazardly around the room, some facing the hearth, and others placed along the wall in front of low wooden tables.
I was browsing a notice bearing Argus Filch's signature, a long list of banned items, when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs to the boy's dormitories. Turning around, I saw Percy Weasley, his ginger hair neatly combed into a side part.
"Morning, Harry. Good to see you up and ready this early. The Prefects often have to wake First Years on their first day to make breakfast, since they often don't notice or forget to set the alarm clocks on their bedside tables. Breakfast isn't usually mandatory, though I recommend not skipping it or you'll be hungry during your morning classes; but you'll be getting your schedule today."
"Good morning Percy." I hadn't noticed the alarm clock myself, and made a mental note to set it before going to bed tonight. "Are there any spells to wake you up in the morning?"
"Hmm, that's a good question. I believe there are ways that can be accomplished with magic, but I don't think they are on the Hogwarts curriculum. Certainly not before N.E.W.T level. Any magic dealing with time is quite complex. If you're interested in learning more, I recommend speaking to Professor Flitwick about it, your Charms professor, though you'll have to be more advanced before you'll be able to actually cast such charms. I'm going to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast now. If you're ready to go, you can tag along."
Thanking him, I agreed and we left the common room through the portrait hole, which swung open at a tap of Percy's wand.
"I was wondering," I said as we made our way through the corridors, reversing the route we had taken last night. "How will we know how to get to our classes? Will we be getting maps of Hogwarts?"
Percy shook his head. "No, there aren't any maps of the castle available. As you'll soon see, the staircases often shift, which would make maintaining an accurate map quite difficult. Your schedules will contain the location of the classrooms, and if you get lost, I recommend asking a portrait for directions. They are ubiquitous, and most of them enjoy being helpful to the students."
I'd received several more helpful tips from Percy by the time we reached the Great Hall. A handful of older students were already eating at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, while the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables were still empty. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were sitting at the staff table, engaged in a discussion.
Percy and I sat down and dug into the hearty full English breakfast already laid out on the table. Students showed up steadily as we ate, alone or in pairs, until a huge group of chattering Hufflepuffs arrived together.
The matronly Professor Sprout walked over from the staff table, holding a sheaf of parchment which I took to be their schedules, causing Professor McGonagall to turn from her conversation and notice my presence. She leafed through the stack of parchments on the table in front of her, selected one, and walked over to me.
"Good morning Mr. Potter, I hope you slept well. Here is your schedule."
I thanked the stern witch and looked down at the parchment. My first class was Potions. History of Magic and Charms sandwiched an hour-long lunch break at noon, with Charms followed by Defense Against the Dark Arts. There was a free period between when DADA let out at half past three before dinner was served between six and eight.
"Morning, Harry!"
I looked up to see Hermione arriving with the rest of the First-Year girls, led by the female Sixth-Year Prefect; Elizabeth Fairleigh, if my memory served me. Hermione settled down next to me, while the rest of the girls sat in a huddle at the far end of the table.
" Ron and Neville still asleep?" she asked and I nodded.
"I think so, I guess I was too excited to get started learning magic." I slid my schedule in front of her as she loaded her plate with food. "Got my schedule. We've got Potions first thing. I hope Snape isn't as bad as Ron said."
"Professor Snape, Harry," she said absently as her eyes hungrily devoured my schedule. Food clearly came second to classes when it came to Hermione's priorities. "Brilliant, we have Charms after lunch. I read that Professor Flitwick was a Dueling Champion before he started teaching at Hogwarts; we're lucky to have him for a professor."
Ron, Neville, and the rest of the First Year boys soon joined us, led by the male Sixth-Year Prefect, whose name escaped me. Ron dove into his food straight away, not even greeting Hermione and me after he'd wolfed down several mouthfuls of bacon and eggs. Hermione wrinkled her nose at his lack of decorum.
Professor McGonagall returned and distributed the rest of the schedules to the fully assembled First Years, and the conversation around the table grew to a muted roar, punctuated by the clinking of silverware on plates. Already finished eating, I nibbled on a roll until my yearmates had finished their breakfasts. We left as a group to retrieve our supplies from Gryffindor tower, and then set off toward the dungeons to find the Potions classroom.
The Slytherins were already seated when we arrived. Draco looked up at me, and then leaned over to Crabbe or Goyle - I wasn't sure which was which, yet - and whispered something that caused the brutish boy to snicker. A few minutes later Snape swept into the classroom in his signature style. I ignored the small butterflies flitting around in my stomach and braced myself for what I knew would come next.
"Ah yes," the sallow man drawled. "Harry Potter, our new… celebrity." Condescension dripped from the man's voice, and a sneer twisted his mouth, revealing yellowed teeth, before he launched into his pretentious introductory remarks.
"Potter," he said. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
I focused on the tip of the professor's hooked nose.
"The Draught of Living Death, sir. A very strong sort of sleeping potion."
A frown creased Snape's face, and I could feel his black eyes boring into me, trying to catch my gaze. I didn't allow my eyes to rise; while I had been diligent with my Occlumency exercises over the summer, I had no illusions about being ready to face a highly accomplished Legilimens.
Snape didn't acknowledge my response, moving on to the next question. The tension in the room grew palpable as I answered correctly, my voice carefully neutral and respectful. The other students were still as statues, with not even a rustle of robes or the groan of someone shifting in their seat.
The silence stretched on for long moments after got the last question right. Someone coughed, breaking the spell, and Snape's eyes snapped up to survey the rest of the classroom.
"Well, why aren't you writing this down?"
The sounds of quills scratching on parchment filled the room as everyone hastened to take notes. Despite having answered correctly, I followed suit, not wanting to give Snape any further excuse to single me out. We moved onto brewing the Boil Cure potion and I partnered with Neville, and Hermione with Ron, and by the end of the class we were both achieved success with our brews despite Snape's attempts to intimidate us with his silent, hovering presence.
History of Magic with the ghostly Professor Binns was far less eventful. Ron leaned over and spoke to me in hushed tones.
"Wow, mate, that was something with Snape back there. How'd you know all that stuff?"
"I had plenty of time to read over the summer," I replied noncommittally.
Ron leaned back, looking impressed. "I'm just glad he didn't ask me! Maybe I should read ahead a bit."
Hermione, head bent and busily scribbling down everything Professor's Binns droned out, shushed us. Ron rolled his eyes, but after a moment he surprised me by opening his Potions text and starting to leaf through it, forehead wrinkled in concentration. I noticed Neville do the same.
After lunch, Ron, Hermione and I earned twenty points for Gryffindor and effusive praise from a delighted Professor Flitwick when the three of us all performed the Levitation Charm on our first try. We spent the rest of Charms helping the other Gryffindors with the spell, and by the time the bell signalling the end of class rang everyone managed the charm, earning our House another twenty points.
The final class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts, which entailed the thing I had been dreading most; my first encounter with Professor Quirrell. Preoccupied with keeping my head down whenever the stuttering man's back was turned, I was careful not to grimace at the pain that pulsed in the scar on my forehead each time the back of the turban he wore faced in my direction.
Yet worry churned in my gut. Voldemort was right there at the front of the classroom. By the end of class I wasn't sure of a single thing had been covered, having spent the time worrying over the inevitable showdown with Voldemort over the Stone.
Having already made several deviations from the canon timeline, I was concerned these deviations could magnify into more significant differences. The butterfly effect. Would I be prepared to face Voldemort, even in his weakened state possessing Quirrell, without accurate foreknowledge? Was I the real Harry's equal, ready to take on a powerful Dark Lord as a First Year, or was I an inadequate imposter?
My ruminating was cut short by Ron's elbow poking me in the ribs. Grunting and looking up, I realized I hadn't heard the bell sound, and the classroom had already mostly emptied out. Professor Quirrell was nowhere to be seen. Hermione and Neville were standing by the door, waiting for us.
"Finally," Ron said as we walked out of the classroom. "What do you think of Quirrell? All that stuttering, and he didn't even answer when Seamus asked him how he defeated that vampire. How do you suppose we're supposed to learn from a teacher who's scared of his own shadow?"
"He was probably just nervous on his first day teaching, Ron. I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he wasn't competent." To my ear, Hermione's tone didn't quite match the confidence of her words.
Neville spoke quietly. "If he really got attacked by a vampire, I don't blame him for being a little scared. My uncle Algie used to tell me stories about vampires. They sound horrible." He shivered, looking concerned.
Ron laughed nonchalantly. "As horrible as Snape? Maybe he's a vampire. He sure has the look."
"Don't be so disrespectful," Hermione scolded. "Professor Snape is a member of the staff." Ron opened his mouth, but she continued. "What if he heard you talking like that?"
He closed his mouth and paled, causing the freckles to stand out on his face. Not responding to Hermione's question but looking around the hallway rather nervously, he changed the subject.
"Anyone else getting a bit hungry? When's dinner, again?"
"Not until six," I answered. "I was thinking about going to look for the library."
Hermione let out a squeal of excitement, immediately volunteering to join me. The two boys didn't look as enthralled by the idea.
"Neville, how about a game of Gobstones in the Common Room? Or Exploding Snap?"
"Sure, Ron." Neville smiled apologetically at us and gave a small wave as Ron tugged at his arm, apparently quite eager to have some fun after a day of classes.
"See you at dinner," Ron called to us over his shoulder as they set off towards Gryffindor Tower. I asked a nearby portrait of a distinguished looking older wizard which direction the library was in, then Hermione and I turned and headed the other way down the hall.
"So, Hermione, I've been meaning to ask you," I said as we navigated the stone corridors. "Where'd you learn that Oculus Repairo charm? I looked over the first few years of Charms books, but I don't recall seeing it."
"Oh yes, that isn't in the curriculum. I found a book called One Hundred and Eleven Useful Charms, I've got it back in my dormitory. I can grab it for you after dinner, if you'd like to look through it."
"That'd be great, thanks-"
Suddenly, something whizzed over my shoulder to splash on the floor behind us. A high-pitch cackle echoed through the corridors from overhead.
"Ickle Firsties! Play a game with Peevsie?" The poltergeist hovered above us, smirking down at us. He looked like a little man with a disproportionately large head, wearing a colorful outfit that reminded me of a court jester. He seemed quite solid, not translucent like the ghosts I'd seen at the Welcoming Feast.
I handed my schoolbooks to Hermione and gave her a gentle push toward the recessed entrance of an empty classroom with its door standing slightly ajar.
"Take cover! We don't both need to get wet." She hurried inside and shut the door.
"Ooo, Pottie's protecting his wittle girlfriend. So noble! So gallant!" Peeves punctuated each exclamation by launching another water balloon in my direction as I bobbed and weaved, pulling out my wand and taking aim.
"Wingardium Leviosa," I blurted out as the next projectile headed in my direction, and it slowed to wobble in the air a few feet away. I whipped my wand toward Peeves, and he squealed with glee as he dodged it.
I was thoroughly soaked by the time I managed to hit Peeves with one of the balloons, causing him to making shriek and fly off, careening off the walls and yelling about revenge. A wide grin plastered on my face, I returned to the classroom Hermione was hiding in and knocked on the door. She cracked it open, the visible sliver of her face wearing a concerned expression.
"All clear. That was actually rather fun, sorry you missed out."
"That's quite alright Harry," she replied, not sounding at all regretful. I started casting Hot Air Charms on myself, and she put down our school supplies and helped with a few charms of her own. Once I was dry, we picked up our things and continued, and reached the library without further excitement.
Madame Pince glanced up at us and frowned slightly, but left us to our own devices. The next few hours were spent browsing the stacks in companionable silence. The books were divided in sections corresponding to the subjects taught at Hogwarts, but didn't seem to be in any particular order within each section. Many of them didn't even have a title on the spine; I had to pull them out and take a look at the front cover to ascertain their contents, and when I glanced at my watch I saw it was already half past five.
I located Hermione at a table in the back of the library, a massive pile of books on the table in front of her.
"We should probably get going, so we'll have time to drop our things off in Gryffindor Tower," I whispered. She eyed the mountain of books in front of her regretfully but agreed, and we left the library. Hermione kept up an excited stream of chatter on the way back to our dormitory, describing everything she'd found. We took a few wrong turns, but with the help of the portraits made our way back a little after six.
The Common Room was mostly empty when we arrived, and I didn't see Ron or Neville. We headed up our respective staircases to drop off our things, then made our way to dinner. The Great Hall was packed with eating students when we arrived. Ron was engaged in an animated discussion with Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas when we arrived, debating the relative merits of Quidditch and Muggle football. The Gryffindor table was mostly full, so Hermione and I had to sit further down the table from our friends, next to Fred and George.
It quickly became obvious why was an empty space next to the Twins. Using their spoons as catapults, they were surreptitiously firing gobs of food flying toward Percy and then ducking their heads low, hiding behind Hermione and me. Any judge would have found them guilty immediately upon seeing the theatrically innocent expressions plastered on their faces.
By the time I had eaten my fill an all-out food fight had sprung up, when Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet returned fire at the Twins after Alicia got a face-full of bread pudding. Hermione made her escape with the other First year girls led by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were shrieking and sharing an empty platter to shield their hair.
Neville was the last of the First Year boys join in the fun, but soon we were all laughing and covered in food. Even the arrival Severus Snape, who put a stop to the battle and took twenty House Points from Gryffindor, didn't spoil our mood. Some of the older students, eyes still sparkling with amusement, cleaned everyone up with some quick spellwork, and we departed the Great Hall in a boisterous crowd.
I extricated myself from the mass of Gryffindors in front of the Fat Lady, informing Neville and Ron that I wanted to go to the Owlery to check on Hedwig.
"Want us to come along, Harry?" Neville asked.
"Yeah," Ron added. "You don't want to run into a group of Slytherins alone. Those slimeballs always stick together, and they love to pick on us when they catch us alone."
"I'm sure I'll be fine guys. Don't worry, I'll be careful."
They didn't press the issue, and soon I was on my own. I was sweating and short on breath by the time I had climbed up the steep staircase leading to the Owlery. After confirming that Hedwig had made it safely to Hogwarts and giving her a few strokes, I glanced at my watch. There was still more than an hour before the ten o'clock curfew, and a thought had struck me on the way up to see Hedwig.
A short time later I stood in a corridor on the seventh floor, facing a blank stretch of wall across from a portrait of a wild-haired wizard surrounded by a circle of large, brutish-looking creatures clad in ludicrously inappropriate frilly pink tutus.
Fixing the need for a place to hide something in my mind, I paced back and forth three times, and a wooden door materialized in the stone wall. With surge of excitement, I opened the door and stepped inside the Room of Hidden Things.
I wandered through the curving paths between towering jumbles of items, careful not to touch anything. There was a stunning variety of items, all covered in a thick layer of dust that also coated the floor and rose in small clouds with each step I took. Eventually I came upon a battered old cabinet missing a door, containing an array of dog-eared and water-damaged books.
Sorting through them, it was nearly curfew when I let out an involuntary gasp. In my hands I held a thin untitled volume, the cover bearing a cartoonish drawing of three animals - a stag with an impressive set of antlers, a large dog with its tongue lolling out in a friendly manner, and a rat standing on its hind legs, nose raised as if sniffing the air.
This had to be an artifact left behind by the Marauders! Excited at my discovery, I leafed through the volume and deflated a bit upon seeing that the pages were all blank. Perhaps it was protected from prying eyes in a manner similar to the Marauder's Map? I wanted to spend some time trying to reveal the book's secrets, but curfew was nearly upon me. Stuffing the book into the inner pocket of my robe, I hurried out of the Room and back down to the Gryffindor Tower.