Come What May
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter works belong to J.K. Rowling.
Mildly Inspired by Knowledge is Power by Fetucini
Chapter 05: Classes with plants, mice and overgrown bats
The next morning Harry woke up to his watch beeping. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 5:30 in the morning. He took a quick bath, stowed the wand in his holster and was off. He walked calmly out of the common room and headed toward the great hall.
He peered inside the open hall doors and saw no one about. He took out his wand and got about his business. A few minutes later he was done and turned around to walk away when he saw a green… floating thing in front of him. It was staring at Harry with a mild expression of interest.
"Err… Who are you?" asked Harry.
"I am Peeves the Poltergeist. What is Harry Potter doing?" It asked.
Harry read about Peeves a couple of times in his father's journal and was surprised at the respect it was showing him.
"Err… Just a small prank, Peeves."
The poltergeist cackled at that. "Harry Potter is following in his father's footsteps. Long live PRONGS." He whooped a couple more times before he raced off to god knows where.
Harry shook his head. He wondered how the poltergeist knew his father's nick name. He finished laying the charms and quickly tracked back his steps to the common room. He answered a riddle once more and got inside.
By the time 7:30 rolled around, he already worked on clearing his thoughts and focusing on the quill. A couple of fifth years were surprised to find a first year student with a book in his hand on the first day.
The prefects led the first years to the great hall and Harry waited with anticipation. They crossed the doors into the hall and came to a stop. Every student in the great hall is colored head to toe in red and gold the Gryffindor colors. The Ravenclaw first years looked at each other to find themselves colored the same.
The prefects scowled in the direction of the Gryffindor house and led the first years to the Ravenclaw table. "Don't worry, it's just a prank. The professors will get rid of it."
Harry piled his plate and started eating with a smirk clearly planted on his red and gold face. It was the first prank his father pulled in his first year. Harry learned the slightly complex charms just for playing this prank on the first day. It was his tribute to his father.
The head of houses soon reversed the prank and professor McGonagall gave the Weasley twins an earful not bothering with their denials.
George Weasley looked at his twin Fred Weasley after their head of house left them with a detention each. "What do you reckon, dear brother?"
Fred rubbed his chin. "Looks like we have a prankster, dear brother and he out did us on the first day."
They looked at each other with a smile. They have to find this prankster. They simply can't be out pranked.
Harry looked at the schedule, which a beaming Professor Flitwick passed to him. He had Transfiguration and History of Magic with Gryffindors, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions with Hufflepuffs, and finally Astronomy and Herbology with Slytherins. It looked like the three wanded subjects had three classes each week, Herbology and Potions two classes and History and Astronomy just one class each week.
That gave him ample time to work on his independent studies. Today was Monday and he had Transfiguration first, followed by Herbology. Then after lunch it was Defense Against the Dark Arts and History. He looked at his watch and got up to get his books.
Terry looked at him with his mouth full. He quickly swallowed, nearly choking on a sausage. Harry hit him a couple of times on the back, harder than he had to.
Terry scowled at him. "Where you up to mate?"
"Unless you want to be late to the first Transfiguration class, you better hurry. We need to get the books from the dorm." He said while walking toward the door.
Terry shuffled as much food as he can into his mouth and raced after Harry. He still didn't know the way to the common room and he didn't want to get lost. They grabbed their bags stuffed with books and walked toward the Gryffindor common room pointed out in the map.
The class was interesting to say the least. After taking attendance, Professor McGonagall started with a lecture. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
And right then Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley stumbled into the classroom apologizing for being late. Professor McGonagall gave them a stern lecture. Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle.
Harry had done it quite a few times in his room at the Leaky Cauldron. So he had no problem turning the matchstick into a needle on the first try. But he also followed Ollivander's advice and tried to make it better. The one thing he realized was that the more complicated the change, the more focus he needed on his intention. He also remembered what Ollivander said about magic. That it was alive. He thought about this much during summer and also decided that Desire was a very important aspect in getting a spell right. He not only needed a clear focus on his intent, but also must have unflinching desire to get the result. After all if you were trying to use something that is alive, you need to clearly convey to it your desire and intent to get it to work.
Professor McGonagall, who was watching the different students practice on their matchsticks, glanced at the son of the most promising Transfiguration student she had ever taught and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She stepped closer to him without him noticing it and watched him closely. Harry Potter not only transfigured the matchstick into a needle, but the needle looked like it belonged in a palace to be used for Royalty. The needle had beautiful vines in light green creeping from the base to the pointed end. She watched as he transfigured it further to add little white flowers to the vines.
"My word, Mr. Potter. What are you doing?"
Harry looked up startled. He was so focused that he didn't realize he was being watched. Professor McGonagall took the needle from his bench and studied it carefully. This was the most magnificent transfiguration she ever saw a first year perform and Harry Potter did that in his first class.
"This is excellent work Mr. Potter. I dare say you even exceeded my skills at Transfiguration as a first year and that's saying something. Fifty points to Ravenclaw. Can you change it back to a matchstick?"
Harry shrugged. "That's easy professor." He swished his wand and muttered the spell changing the decorated needle back to matchstick easily. McGonagall gave him one of her rare smiles and nodded as she left to survey the other students. Harry glanced at the other students to see Hermione Granger scowling at him something fierce, while Longbottom was looking at him in anger. Ron Weasley was copying the boy-who-lived and staring at Harry in loath.
Harry just shook his head, when Terry nudged him. "Come on mate, what's the secret?" Harry glanced at Terry's needle to see it only slightly changed shape.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, I will tell you this once but remember it okay?" Terry nodded eagerly.
Harry continued. "In every spell I learnt so far, there are two aspects which I found very important. Intent and desire. You need to clearly focus on what your intent is and have the desire to get the intent done before you say the spell. Take an example of this matchstick. The intent is to turn it into a needle. So clearly focus on that intent. Then focus on your desire to get it done and say the spell. Go on…"
Terry concentrated on the matchstick. "So when you say focus on the intent, I need to focus on a image of a needle… Right?"
Harry nodded with a relieved smile. At least he was not an idiot.
Terry focused on the matchstick with a clear picture of a needle and said the spell. It immediately turned to a wooden needle with a silver shine.
"The intent needs to be clear. When you imagine the needle, imagine how it will look, feel and needs to work." Suggested Harry. Terry nodded and took a few more tries before he got it right.
"Brilliant! Thanks mate."
"Excellent work Mr. Boot. Ten points to Ravenclaw," said Professor McGonagall who listened as Harry explained the process to Terry. She was not surprised to find that he understood the underlying reality to most spells. Not after she saw him transfigure that matchstick. But she was surprised to know that he could grasp that. It generally takes many years for students to grasp that and last she heard Harry Potter was living with his muggle relatives.
Harry was walking out of the Transfiguration class with Terry, when someone bumped into him throwing him off balance. "Watch it Potter," sneered Longbottom.
Harry scowled at him. What was his problem? "Trying to show me up are you, Potter?" asked Longbottom as he stood face to face with Harry.
"Oh! I am so scared. The big bad boy-who-lived is giving me an evil look." Said Harry sarcastically. He went around the pudgy boy smirking at his dumbfound expression and joined Terry who had a similar expression on his face.
"You would think," said Terry, "someone like him would be less arrogant and more friendly."
"Why? Because he's the boy-who-lived?"
Terry shrugged as they walked into the greenhouse for their Herbology class with the Slytherins.
The rest of the week progressed with little excitement for Harry. Unless of course one considered the maze the castle was. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure the coats of armor could walk.
The ghosts never bothered Harry, like they did the rest of the student population and that's including Peeves. But the worst was Filch. Like all animals, Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, liked Harry and this caused instant jealousy in Filch resulting in him hating Harry more than any other student, including that prat James Potter and his partner in pranks Sirius Black.
Harry decided to stay away from the grouchy caretaker as much as he could. The classes themselves were cause for little excitement to Harry. Herbology as a subject was boring to Harry. But he liked working with plants as it gave him a sense of peace. Even while at Privet Drive, he always took care of the garden. This along with his innate ability to connect with them made him one of the best students in that class.
He was severely disappointed with the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Not only was the first week nothing but theory, which he had memorized over the summer, but Professor Quirrell with his stuttering voice and proved to be most ineffective. Why Professor Dumbledore would employ a man who is afraid of his own shadow to teach a course that requires experience dealing with dark magic, Harry couldn't say. But after the first class he knew that he couldn't depend on this class to gain knowledge on defense and vowed to look up more books on that subject.
Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw house and also the charms professor, proved to be an effective teacher, though Harry was again disappointed to know that the first month would be spent mostly on theory. 30 minutes of the first class was spent practicing the lighting charm, something, which Harry got in the first try during the summer.
But the most boring class of all was History of Magic, which was taught by a ghost of all people, Professor Binns. When Harry first entered the class the professor gave him a brief bow like all the other ghosts did and then he went on droning about one Goblin revolt or the other. Once Harry understood what the class would be like, he simply took out a book on Transfiguration he had in his bag and continued reading it from where he left off.
On Wednesday night, the Ravenclaw house, sat for their weekly study session, where Harry completed the homework assigned to him in Charms and DADA. At midnight they joined with the Slytherins for their first Astronomy Class with Professor Sinistra. Harry enjoyed learning about the stars. He didn't spend much time reading about it during summer, though he enjoyed looking at the sky through the telescope.
But the one class he dreaded the most, was his first potions class. He knew about the bad blood between his dad and Professor Snape and was expecting some kind of retaliation. And this time unfortunately he wasn't disappointed.
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students were waiting for were waiting outside the potion's classroom in the dungeons. The door banged open and Professor Snape sneered at them. "Inside."
All the students filed in quietly. They have heard rumors of the man from the upper years and did not want to earn his wrath in the first class they had with him.
Like every professor, Professor Snape started with taking the roll, though unlike any other professor, he paused at Harry's name. "Ahh… Yes, Harry Potter. It's a surprise that you were sorted into the house of the intelligent. Your father will be so disappointed…" He said while boring into Harry eyes with his cold black eyes and a sneer firmly planted on his face. Harry felt a light touch inside his head and he recognized it as a Legilimency attack from the few times Ollivander tried it on him. As quickly as he could he brought up the picture of the Quill and concentrated on that.
Snape pulled back surprised. He sneered at Harry one more time and went back to finishing the roll call. Harry expected the verbal attack and it didn't bother him much. If a Professor can't see the difference between a son and a father, even after the father's been incapacitated for so long… then he could only pity the man.
Snape finished taking the roll and eyed the first years in front of him. This was one of his favorite moments of the year, when he completely intimidated the dunderheads. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "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 the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed this little speech. Harry stared at him impassively though to tell the truth he was impressed by the speech and wondered how many times he delivered it.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"Draught of the Living Death," said Harry and as an afterthought he added "sir".
Snape's lips curled into a sneer thought he was surprised. "Lucky guess. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"Stomach of a Goat, sir."
There was a moment of silence before Snape asked another question. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"Nothing, sir. They are one and the same." Answered Harry confidently. He did a few potion books over the summer after all.
Snape was not pleased at not having a chance to dock some points from the brat. He chose the questions, which were not necessarily first year material, but were mentioned in the prescribed reading. Unless Potter read through them thoroughly he couldn't have answered them. Maybe… Just maybe he took after her… He quickly cleared his mind of that traitorous thought and sneered at the class. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.
Harry and Terry paired up when it was time to mix a simple potion to cure boils. Ravenclaws proved there was a reason their house was said to have the intelligent in it and all of them created an acceptable potion. Harry paid particular attention to how the ingredients reacted with each other and how the different stirs affected the potion.
Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone. He was just passing Harry's cauldron for what seemed like the hundredth time, when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. A Huffelpuff boy, Justin Fintch-Fletchley, melted his cauldron and the whole mess was damaging the floor.
Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Justin, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? 20 points from Hufflepuff."
Justin whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Ernie Macmillan.
Ernie quickly ushered Justin away, secretly glad he could escape the snarky git of a professor. Harry bottled his and Terry's near perfect potion (the color was slightly off), and labeled it, while Terry cleared their table. As the class ended he put it on the desk under the hawk like gaze of the professor and left the dungeons with the other students.
Harry spent his first weekend at Hogwarts finishing the homework he got since Wednesday and spent the rest of the time working on his own private studies.
Terry initially planned on exploring the castle with Harry, but he disappeared to his countenance. So he joined up with Corner and Goldstein in exploring their magical school.
On Monday morning Terry confronted Harry at breakfast. "Where have you been, I was looking for you yesterday?" hissed Terry in Harry's ear.
Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"
"I wanted to explore the castle and thought you would join me."
Harry went back to eating his breakfast. "I had other things to do."
"Like what?" asked Terry quite curious what his friend was up to.
"I like to do certain things by myself," replied Harry coolly.
"Fine," spat Terry as he sulked over his breakfast.
Harry was slightly confused at his attitude, which lasted all but five minutes.
Terry looked at Harry through the corner of his eyes. "You know, flying lessons are coming up on Thursday…"
Harry's lips twitched up into a half smile at his housemate's antics.
Thursday arrived much too slowly for Harry, who had been looking forward to the flying lessons in eager anticipation ever since he heard of flying broomsticks.
Harry and Terry with the rest of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs arrived at the Hogwarts grounds dedicated for the flying lessons. Harry saw about 20 or so old brooms lay on the ground with even spacing between them. To Harry's amusement, Terry was very nervous about the whole flying business.
Madame Hooch the flying instructor was waiting for them to arrive. "Everyone here? This is your first flying class. There will be two more classes held in the coming weeks but they are not mandatory. If you are interested you can attend them. Now choose a broom and stand beside it. Come on, hurry up!"
Everyone scurried over to a broom at her impatient tone and stood beside it waiting for further instructions. Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"
"UP" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once. "Whoa!"
But it was one of the few that did. Terry's just rolled around on the ground until he scrunched up his face and shouted at it. "UP!" The broom jumped into his hand rather hard. "Ouch! Bloody broom." Terry said rubbing his hand.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. She praised Harry on getting the grip right the first time.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two — one, go!"
Harry kicked off the ground and hovered there for a while enjoying the floating feeling. It was incredible and he loved it. He came back down on Madame Hooch's instructions.
The lessons progressed gradually. More than 2/3rd's of the class dropped out after learning the very basics of the riding a broom. Harry was part of the half a dozen people who continued with the lesson, which ended with them going out on their own. Harry ripped through the air like none other. When he was in the air he felt free, like he belonged here and the broom, as old as it is, responded to him well.
When the flying class ended, Harry broke up from the remaining students heading into the castle and approached Madame Hooch, who was putting back the broomsticks in the broom closet. She saw Harry approach her. "Potter, help me put these back here will you?"
Harry nodded and helped her out as she showed him where they go. "Madame Hooch I was wondering if I could try out for the Quidditch team."
Hooch stilled for a moment. "We don't really allow first years, Potter."
"But Madame, I checked the school rules. They said a first year couldn't own a broomstick, but nothing about not being part of the Quidditch team."
Hooch knew she was in a fix. She can't forbid him, not with what happened with Longbottom yesterday. And if that boy can play Quidditch, Harry Potter most certainly can. He was the most natural flyer she had seen in a long time… Maybe since his father.
"Very well, Potter. You certainly can handle a broom and the Ravenclaw team selections are not until this weekend. If your head of house agrees, I don't have a problem with it."
Harry beamed at her. "Thank you Madame."
Harry decided to wait until the next day before he asked Professor Flitwick after the Charms class. So after the class he remained behind and approached the tinny professor.
"Professor Flitwick."
The professor turned around to see one of his more brilliant students and smiled at him. "Yes, Mr. Potter? How can I help you?"
"Sir, I asked Madame Hooch yesterday if I could try out for the Quidditch team… And she said that if I could get your permission she would let me."
Professor Flitwick nodded. "I see," he paused. "There is a reason we don't generally allow first years on the team Mr. Potter. Not only are most first years not used to handling a broom, but they need time to cope up with their course schedule and academics."
Harry frowned at him, but remained silent. "But I don't think either would be a problem for you… Tell me Mr. Potter, how far are you really ahead of your peers? You try to hide it, but the few classes you were here, you looked bored."
Harry thought about and decided to be honest. "I spent most of the summer going through the standard book series, professor. I am going through the fifth book right now."
Professor Flitwick looked astounded. "Fifth book? My… my… Mr. Potter, that's fascinating. Can you perform say the levitation, animation, and the summoning charms?"
Harry nodded and levitated a nearby chair and then made the same chair dance on top of a table, before summoning it and banishing it back to its original place.
Professor Flitwick clapped in excitement. "Brilliant Mr. Potter. Simply brilliant! Your mother Lily was excellent at charms as well, but dare I say you exceeded her? She would be very proud of you."
Harry gave the professor a big smile at that statement. That was the first time any professor mentioned his parents and the fact that she would be proud of him, made him even more determined.
He bowed slightly to the Charms' professor. "Thanks sir."
"Not a problem my boy." He wrote a quick note and gave it to Harry. "Give that to Hooch, when you see her next."
Harry thanked him and stepped toward the door. "By the way, Mr. Potter, what position are you trying for?"
Harry turned around with the smile still present on his face. "Seeker sir. I want to be a seeker."
That weekend Harry and Terry made their way toward the Quidditch stadium, with Harry carrying one of the school brooms in his hands.
When Harry arrived, he saw around 20 or so students with brooms lingering around. Harry joined them and Terry took a seat in one of the stands. Roger Davis, a 3rd years student and the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, approached Harry.
"Potter, Professor Flitwick said he gave you permission to try out. You are trying for seeker right?"
Harry nodded and Roger pointed to a group of three students who were standing nearby. "Go ahead and join them. They are all trying as well."
Harry joined Cho Chang, a second year student who was carrying one of the latest cleansweeps and two fifth year students who were carrying Nimbus 2000's.
Cho smiled at him while the other two students didn't pay him any mind while ogling at a couple of sixth year girls who were trying out for the chaser positions. "Hey Harry, trying out? I thought first years are not allowed?"
Harry explained to her about the rules and that Professor Flitwick gave him permission. Cho shrugged. "Good luck, then."
"You as well, Cho."
Harry waited as David held the trials for the chasers, and the keepers first. Most of Ravenclaw team had graduated last year, leaving just Roger who was a chaser and the two beaters, who were fifth year students still part of the team.
Harry thought one the sixth year girls he saw earlier was the clear winner in the chaser tryouts. The other was a fourth year boy, who's name Harry vaguely remembered as William.
Roger approached the four seeker prospects. "Okay guys. Here's the deal. I will release the snitch three times and whoever catches the most wins. Get on your brooms and get in the air. On the count of ten…"
Harry zoomed into the air on his less than impressive broomstick. But he didn't pay it any mind. For him being in the air is like being one with it. He simply loved it.
Roger released the snitch and watched as it disappeared. He watched as Harry Potter dived and caught the snitch within 30 seconds of releasing it. The second time he released it, Harry took a little longer. Both Cho and Harry spotted the snitch at the same time and they both dived for it. Harry knew Cho had a much faster broom. He pushed the school broom. "Come on, faster." Harry said to his broom urging it forward gaining a little more speed.
As Cho was about to snatch the snitch, Harry freed his legs of the broom, slid them to the side, and gave the snitch a mighty kick with his right leg -- used the momentum to land back on the broom and pull off the dive. He went after the snitch, which was flying a couple of feet above him and caught it cleanly. All this happened in one smooth move in a matter of 5 seconds.
Roger's mouth fell open. He couldn't deny it. This kid is the best seeker he had ever seen, even better than Charley Weasley who Roger saw during his first year. This eleven year old pulled off a move, which many professional seekers couldn't pull off on better brooms, on a school broom which is probably a couple of decades old.
Harry landed on the ground and gave the snitch back to the Quidditch captain who still had an incredulous expression on his face. Roger shook himself back to composure. "Right! It's clear who the best seeker is. Congratulations, Potter! And thanks everyone for coming. The first practice session will be on Saturday. Potter, can I have a word with you?"
Harry waited as the rest of the players cleared off. "Congrats, Harry," said Cho with a small disappointed smile on her face before she walked away. She knew when she was beaten and Harry had beaten her squarely.
Roger stared at Harry for a few moments. "That was a very slick move, Potter? How long have you been flying?"
Harry gave a small proud smile. "The first time I flew a broom was during the flying lessons a couple of days back."
"You're joking!" Exclaimed Roger. Harry just smiled and Roger laughed while slapping Harry on the back. "I can't wait to see what you could do with a few training sessions under your belt." He paused in thought. "We need to get you a better broom… I must talk to Professor Flitwick about it," he mumbled to himself.
Terry joined them as they left the Quidditch pitch and gave a whoop of joy when he heard that Harry was chosen as the seeker. Roger quizzed Harry on what he knew about Quidditch on their way to the Ravenclaw common room.