Note: First, a small explanation as to the classes: I tried my best to put together a timetable that is consistent with the books, but since JK is as carefree with the days of the week as she is at dealing with numbers, I could only put together one which is more or less halfway realistic. The biggest issue is that there is only one teacher for each subject. Transfiguration, Charms, or Defense for example, are described as if the Gryffindors were taught by themselves …. If that were really the case, then the teachers would already be used to full capacity with just the lower classes: four houses in five age groups, is already twenty hours of instruction. Also in at least some of the books, we can prove it can be three hours per subject. As such, we would have reached sixty hours per week. So I had to come up with something.
Potions is shown to take place for three hours a week (one single and one double). This means that Snape has a thirty-six hour week (thirty hours for the lower years, and six for both Newt classes) ... this is at least feasible (although I wonder how he manages, especially when he has to fill in for Remus on top of his own classes). I eventually solved the hour problem by assuming that each subject is taught for three hours a week. In Herbology, Potions, and History, two houses are taught during the hour, in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration, there is one 'practice hour' in which only one house is taught, and two 'theory hours' during which all four houses receive instruction. (This would also explain why it was definitely only Gryffindors present during the hour with the Bogart, yet during the double hour when Harry confronts Umbridge, thirty pairs of eyes observed the situation.) Astronomy and Quidditch are special cases, to which I shall later return.
As usual, it was a turbulent first day of classes at Hogwarts. However, this year there was barely talk about the new timetables. Even the new teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Gilderoy Lockhart, winner of the Order of Merlin (Third Class), Honorary Member of the League for the Defense Against the Dark Arts, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's 'Most Charming Smile', had to (to his displeasure) take a back seat to the star of the day: Harry Potter.
So far, no one had seen Hogwart's most famous pupil, but everyone already had an opinion about him. His special status as a 'student without a house' had caused a stir. Even those envious of him could barely believe it. The second years reaped many a jealous glance, for everyone was convinced they would be the first to meet Harry Potter in the flesh.
At first though, they didn't either - neither at breakfast or when the students went to classes. No one spotted Harry Potter. "Maybe he had class with the Slytherins or the Ravenclaws," mused Hermione Granger while the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs gathered in front of the greenhouses.
"Hopefully not Slytherin!" declared Ron Weasley. "Can you imagine how unbearable Malfoy will be at lunch, when he's the first to speak with him?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron behaved as if Harry Potter was a trophy to be won, and he was by no means the only one. The notable exceptions were Neville (who didn't have enough self-esteem to believe he would be interesting enough for Harry Potter), as well as Megan Jones and Wayne Hopkins (who had known each other since early childhood and were so close of friends that they were not especially interested in anyone else).
Hermione could not understand this behavior, particularly as no one seemed to be interested in the boy himself, but only in the advertising icon. Certainly, Harry Potter was completely different in reality from what was always represented in the media. Luckily, she was not the type who could be blinded by such things. She peered at her timetable … why couldn't it already be afternoon with Lockhart teaching class?
Restless whispering around her, made her look up. Professor Sprout was approaching them from the castle, and beside her was a skinny boy with black hair and glasses. Hermione found his expression difficult to read, however she thought that he looked embarrassed. No wonder, with everyone staring in his direction, Lavender and Parvati even stood on their tiptoes, as if they could see him better that way. Hermione let out a contemptuous snort, carefully packed her schedule away again and closed her bag.
Contrary to expectations, Professor Sprout made no move to introduce her young companion. Instead, she only said - "Today we are in Greenhouse Three," and then led the way. For a moment, no one really knew how to react. The group obviously vacillated between the desire to be the first one to introduce themselves to Harry Potter, and the need to follow the instructions of their teacher. For Hermione the decision was easy. It was the first time that they were going to be working in this greenhouse and she definitely wanted to have a good seat. Harry Potter followed her lead, and soon the entire group rushed inside.
All the while Professor Sprout lectured, the students were distracted by the celebrity in their midst. It took two requests until they all noticed that they should pick up earmuffs. "A little more attention please!" demanded Professor Sprout unusually severe. "These plants are not to be trifled with." As she demonstrated how to repot mandrakes, she had the full attention of the class again. Then she had them divide into groups of four.
A year ago, this would have meant that Hermione would have waited, and then would have joined one of the two left over groups of three. But by the end of the last school year, Ron had drawn her into the group that he was in the habit of forming with Seamus and Dean. However, this time when she moved in the direction of the two friends, Ron caught her wrist and stopped her. "What is it?" she whispered. He gave no answer, but watched the others. Neville as always got together with Hanna Abbot, Susan Bones and Sally-Ann Perks. Lavender and Parvati, who otherwise would have been forced to work with Hufflepuffs, used the opportunity to pair themselves up with Seamus and Dean. Zacharias Smith was normally anxious to attach himself quickly to another Hufflepuff, however this time he inexplicably headed towards Ron and Hermione. While Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley joined with Megan Jones and Wayne Hopkins.
It was not until Harry Potter looked around searchingly, and Ron enthusiastically waved to him, that Hermione understood what her friend was up too. However, he was still not the first one to speak with Harry Potter - Zacharias Smith was faster. "Is working in a group beneath you Potter? It doesn't look to me as if you mingle with the common people." Harry flinched slightly, as if he had been struck, however even before Hermione had the chance to defend him, he shot back: "Is good behavior beneath you? Or don't you know what that is?"
Smith would have certainly responded accordingly, but Professor Sprout asked for quiet and proceeded to explain the properties of the mandrakes to them. Hermione caught the eye of her new classmate and smiled to show him that not everyone thought as did Zacharias Smith.
Harry sighed inwardly. The girl with the bushy hair had smiled at him, revealing a pair of big front teeth. Even the red-haired boy with the many freckles seemed to be quite nice. However, he didn't have much opportunity to talk with them, because they had to wear earmuffs during the entire hour, but in working together to repot the Mandrakes, certain camaraderie naturally developed, and so at the end of the hour he dared to connect with the two.
"What do you have next?" asked the red-haired boy. "By the way, I'm Ron – Ron Weasley." He held out his hand to shake that of Harry's.
Harry shook it gratefully and replied - "Transfiguration with the Gryffindors."
"Then you can come along with us," the girl with the bushy hair offered. "We are both in Gryffindor, I am Hermione Granger." Harry gave her his hand as well. He almost said it would be his pleasure, but that seemed a little silly to him. So instead, he asked - "Is transfiguration difficult?" Personally, he had been dreading this class.
"No," replied Hermione, while at the same time Ron said "Yes!" A giggle was heard behind them.
"You shouldn't ask Hermione a question like that," supplied a girl with blond, carefully styled curly hair, who was following along behind them with her Indian friend. "She is so crazy about studying she even sleeps with her books." The last sentence was said with a mocking undertone that Harry did not like. He showed the girl and her friend a cold shoulder and turned his attention completely upon Hermione.
"I read a lot too." Hermione gave him a thankful smile, while Ron suppressed a groan and quickly tried to change the topic.
"But you like to fly, right? I saw a picture of you in the newspaper."
Harry was not happy to be reminded of the photograph; however, he nodded. "Flying is great too," he agreed. Before he realized what he had done, Ron had involved him in a conversation about Quidditch, to which Harry had little to contribute, but he enjoyed it because it was so … so normal. With a spring in his steps and a light heart, he walked through the corridors of Hogwarts.
With lead feet, Dudley agonizingly dragged himself up the long spiral staircase, which led to the office of his new teacher. His classes started later this day than did Harry's, probably only because his teacher had arrived late on the previous evening. That was okay with Dudley, the longer he was spared, the better. He had always hated to learn, and here the lessons would be awful indeed.
He had not met his teacher, yet his worst fears were already confirmed. Why did he have to have his rooms so high in the castle? Why didn't he come down to Dudley to teach him?
Wheezing, Dudley finally reached a door and knocked. "Come in!" The thin wood muffled the voice almost beyond recognition, so Dudley was totally surprised when he opened the door and an old, but still vigorous looking woman, looked at him expectantly. He scrutinized her in silence. Unlike the other wizards, she wore totally normal, if somewhat old-fashioned clothes. Her white hair was pinned up in a bun, in which at least a dozen hairpins were stuck. Although she confronted him exactly at his eye level, she radiated a self-confidence, which reminded him to be careful.
"Good morning!" she finally said, but in a tone that made it clear that she had expected to hear those words from him. "You're a little late."
"I didn't expect that the way to your room would be so long," Dudley gasped our angrily.
"Well then, in the future you will know better, won't you? However, we are not going to waste any more time. My name is Mary-Claire Keen. You need not address me as 'Professor'; 'Mrs. Keen' is completely acceptable. We will spend our first hour getting to know each other better."
These words launched Dudley into a nightmare. Mrs. Keen gave him one test after another to evaluate his level of knowledge, only to say at the end - "I see we will have to start again from scratch. You may now go to lunch. I will see you again in one hour."
Dudley felt totally beaten and humiliated, and a little scared, because in order to get his lunch, he had to travel through passages, which were now swarming with young wizards. Fortunately, Dumbledore had forced him to wear a robe, which apart from the missing emblem on the chest looked similar to the uniforms of the Hogwarts students. Thus, no one noticed him when he went down to the Great Hall.
At the entrance to the hall, he stopped uncertainly. If he simply sat down at any table, they he would certainly attract attention. His instincts told him to simply leave again, but his stomach insisted that he remain, so he scrutinized each table to decide where his reception might be the friendliest. At one table, he discovered the freak, who was sitting with a small group of other students holding court. Dudley took two steps toward the table the furthest from them, before he changed direction and sat down close to the group anyway.
For Harry, Transfiguration consisted of primarily of chasing a beetle over his table. Although the theory behind the magic was quite familiar to him, the implementation did not come easy. Now he was eating lunch at the Gryffindor's table. Slowly he got to know them all. Hermione seemed to be clever, and very helpful. In Transfiguration, she had sat beside him and had tried to help, but since her tone always suggested that what she had just explained would have made sense to everyone else immediately, Harry found her efforts depressing rather than helpful.
The other two girls, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, were nicer than their first impression had made them seem. However, after the two tried to quiz him about what style of clothes he preferred, Harry could understand why Hermione was rather inclined to spend her time with the boys. When he then realized that Lavender carried a 'Harry Potter' bag around with her (with a stylized lightning-bolt shaped clasp and an HP insignia), he definitely kept his distance too.
In the beginning, Ron was very possessive, but after he sat down at the table, he had focused on his food. That gave Harry the opportunity to speak with the other boys. Seamus Finnigan turned out to be very curious. He immediately asked Harry about the Muggles with whom he had lived, and if it was true that they had mistreated him. As this topic made Harry very uncomfortable, he reacted very coldly, whereupon Seamus (who was easily offended) acted coldly in return, with Dean Thomas following his example.
Ron looked as if he would like to ask some similar questions, but after seeing Harry's reaction, he held back. However, Harry still felt that a large part of Ron's interest in him arose from his awareness of his fame. Hence, he felt more comfortable talking with the shy Neville, besides he did not make it a habit to speak with his mouth full.
"Hey! Who are you? You're not a Gryffindor, right?"
Harry glanced up to see that Dudley, who had sat down nearby at the table, had been interrupted while eating by a red-haired prefect.
"No, but I…," Dudley tried to explain.
"Students must eat at their own house tables," said the prefect strictly.
For a brief moment, Harry was tempted to let Dudley fight for himself, but he looked so uncharacteristically scared, that Harry could not make himself abandon him.
"He's my cousin," he intervened. "He is supposed to eat here in the hall. Albus said so."
The prefect looked at him sternly. "Professor Dumbledore, if you please." However, nobody really paid any attention to him, because now everyone was looking only at Dudley and Harry.
"Your cousin?" repeated Ron, staring at Dudley with interest. "Does that mean he's a Muggle?" Now all the students who came from wizarding families stared as well, as if he were a new species or a dangerous predator in front of them.
"Yes, we are both living with Albus," Harry glared at the prefect. There was no way that he was going to be denied the right to call his guardian so. "His name is Dudley.
Up to now, the presence of his Gryffindor classmates had made sure that the other students kept their distance. In addition, Harry had ignored their whispers as much as possible, however now the desire for sensationalism overcame all their inhibitions, and more and more students crowded around the table.
"Why isn't he is Azkaban?" asked Seamus.
"Maybe because he isn't of age yet," Hermione pointed out coldly. "Or should the Ministry put children into prison?"
Harry could only nod in agreement, before the prefect interfered again. "Of course not! But the rules clearly state…" but no one listened to him. Everyone seemed to have his own opinion as to what to do with the muggles who had held Harry Potter captive. In the midst of this hubbub sat Dudley, clinging to his luncheon plate and shrinking in on himself.
"What is the commotion?" The sharp voice of Professor McGonagall silenced all of those present. "Weasley…" Ron winced. However, she turned to the red-haired prefect instead of him. "…what is the meaning of this?"
The prefect nearly snapped to attention. "Professor McGonagall, I questioned this boy why he was here, and it turns out he is Harry Potter's muggle cousin…"
"And so he doesn't have the right to eat in peace?" Professor McGonagall stared sternly at the bystanders. "I am very disappointed in all of you. This is exactly the kind of reckless behaviour that Professor Dumbledore addressed at the Welcome Feast." All the bystanders looked slightly abashed. Yet no one moved from the spot. "If you don't have anything better to do than to bother your classmate while he is eating, I can give you something to do."
The multitude dissolved, until only Harry's friends and the prefect remained. "That goes for you too, Weasley." The prefect looked at her shocked, but then with a last scrutinizing look at Dudley he left as well. "Potter, why don't you introduce your cousin?"
Actually, the group around Harry had just been considering using the remaining time before the next class to do something outdoors. Therefore, it was unwillingly that Harry sat back down near Dudley, but far enough away to be out of kicking and poking range. Although Dudley was barely paying attention to him for the moment, it was always better to keep a safe distance. Hermione, Ron, and surprisingly Neville, took the seats beside him, but the rest of the group fled outdoors and out of Professor McGonagall's angry sight. Although, now that it seemed that her work was done, she continued on her way to the teacher's table.
"So, this is your cousin…?" Ron tried to fish for information without directly asking.
"Yes… and the red-haired Prefect…?" Harry asked, partly out of interest, partly to change the subject.
"My brother Percy, but don't worry about him. He always behaves as if he's swallowed a rulebook. But if you ever really need help, you can turn to him."
"So there really is a rule that says students can't sit at the other houses tables?" asked Neville nervously. "I often sit with the Hufflepuffs."
"The tables are considered 'in-house' territory, reported Hermione. "The tradition of the houses determines who may sit at them. At the Slytherin table only Slytherins may sit, at the Ravenclaw table we would have to prove our worth by answering a riddle. For the Gryffindor table you need an invitation from a Gryffindor, and the Hufflepuff table is open to everyone.
Harry was annoyed. Albus could have told him about that privately before now. Luckily, he had not tried to sit at the Slytherin table, a thought that was also reflected on Dudley's face.
For a moment, no one said anything. Harry felt that the others had questions about Dudley and him, but were holding back. He, however, was desperately trying to think of another topic to fill the uncomfortable silence.
"Do you also have Defense Against the Dark Arts with us?" asked Neville. Grateful for the change of topic, Harry shook his head. "No, next I have Astronomy with the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, and then Defense with just the Hufflepuffs. I wish I could go with you now. I've always found theoretical lessons in Astronomy boring."
"You're telling me! We have the lesson right after. But as to whether Defense is so much better…" said Ron.
"You're only mad at Lockhart because of the incident in the bookstore," interrupted Hermione. "His lessons are certainly very exciting, what with all the things he has experienced!"
"He certainly won't tell us anything that isn't already in his books. He doesn't even go to the toilet without giving a press conference."
While Hermione and Ron debated it further, Harry leaned over to Neville. "What's that all about?" he asked quietly.
Softly the answer came back: "Didn't you see it in the Daily Prophet? But then it was only on page two."
Of course it was, since the front page had been covered with reports about Harry for weeks. This was precisely the reason he had been avoiding all the newspapers.
"Lockhart was signing books in Flourish and Blotts when Ron's father and Lucius Malfoy got into a fight. They bumped up against a shelf and it triggered a chain reaction, in which half the store was wrecked. A reporter, who was there to write a story about the book signing, witnessed the whole disaster and Lockhart used the opportunity to play the great mediator. When Lucius 'generously' paid for the damages, and then portrayed himself as the innocent victim of a fanatical ministry official who allegedly attacked him for no reason, Lockhart kept telling the reporter that he should write a story about it."
Now Harry could understand Ron's annoyance. Before the quarrel beside him could escalate even more, he interrupted them saying: "In any case, an hour practicing Defense is more exciting than theory."
"I wouldn't bet on it," grumbled Ron. "Sure, the hours are marked as practice lessons, but up until now, we haven't ever used a wand in Defense class."
Harry could hardly believe it.
"Never?"
"Have you had practical lessons?" Hermione asked with interest.
"Yes… Professor Snape spent a lot of time teaching me about vampires, trolls, and such, but for the last six months, he has insisted that I practice at least something every evening with my wand. He thinks Defense is very important."
"Professor Snape? Ron looked at him horrified. "My brothers have told me about him! He is terribly strict, but luckily, last year he wasn't teaching.
"He was my tutor," explained Harry.
"On Dumbledore's orders?" Hermione surmised shrewdly.
Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Dudley's face darkened. He should probably keep an eye on him. "He is very strict, but I have learned a lot from him."
"You're good at potions?" Ron put the question as if the mere thought of it was unimaginable.
"I wouldn't say that. But at any rate, I'm better at it than I am at Transfiguration." Harry found it frustrating. There was no other subject in which he had learned so much, and yet had managed so little.
"You understand the theory already," Hermione assured him. "With the transfiguration of living beings into motionless objects, it all depends on…"
"Oh forget the stupid bug!" Ron interrupted her. "Today nobody else managed it. The next time it will work better."
Harry immediately felt more light-hearted. When he thought about it like that, he realized that Hermione was the only one who actually successfully executed the spell.
"Only if you three practice!" lectured Hermione, and a fresh quarrel broke out. Harry exchanged exasperated looks with Neville and they both rolled their eyes. Besides, he noticed that Dudley, who had already finished his meal, was listening in on their conversation with a strange expression of satisfaction on his face. Harry had had enough. He got up from the table.
"I think I'll go now…"
Ron and Hermione were so busy with their argument that they didn't even notice that he had left the Great Hall. Only Neville waved to him as he stepped out into the hallway… where dozens of students walking by startled at the sight of him, and began to whisper excitedly. Those who were the closest to him, slowed down their pace, while those who were further back began to push forward once they saw who had just come out. This created a small riot, reminding Harry of the unpleasant incident in Diagon Alley. So he quickly dived into a narrow passageway, and took advantage of the many shortcuts and hidden passages by which he knew he would be able to reach a part of the castle that was less crowded.
He still had a bit of time before he had to go to class, so he went in the direction of the Owlery. During the day, it was a peaceful place where only the occasional rustle of feathers broke the silence, while most of the owls slept. Duchess would be happy to see Harry. She had been forced to adapt to the daily rhythm of her roommates, but snowy owls were not usually nocturnal, so she always came immediately when Harry visited her during the day.
As Harry climbed to the tower, he heard a noise, which for the time of day was very unusual. The sound of hundreds of fluttering wings was drowned out only by the loud calls of the owls. Fearing the worst Harry took the stairs two at a time, and collided at the entrance to the Owlery with a plume of brown and white feathers. Harry stumbled back and barely held onto the railing.
"Ow! Watch it!"
The plume turned out to be a blond boy whose uniform was filthy from top to bottom with bird droppings and feathers. Because of the collision with Harry, he had unceremoniously landed on his arse, and was now staring at him angrily. "Can't you pay attention?" The cry of an owl made him whirl around in alarm. With dignity, Duchess glided through the door of the Owlery, touched the head of the terrified crouching boy with her talons, and then landed on Harry's shoulder. That made the boy even more furious.
"You ungrateful bastard! Just you wait! My father will make sure that you get what you deserve!"
"You leave Duchess in peace!" Harry shouted furiously. "She's my owl!" Just who did this arrogant idiot think he was anyway?
"Only because Dumbledore stole it from me!"
So this was Duchess' previous owner. No wonder the school owls had reacted like that to him.
"That was probably because you broke the school rules. Duchess belongs to me now, and you will never do anything to her again, or your father either!" The idea that he was a celebrity was still frightening for Harry, but he was not blind to the benefits his newly discovered status brought with it. Then he remembered what Hagrid had told him about the school owls, and added: "If your father ever knows about it. In any case, the school owls certainly won't be taking him any news from you."
The boy got to his feet. "We'll see about that Potter!" He spat out the name as if it were a dirty word. "Nobody tangles with a Malfoy!" Under other circumstances, the threat might have been impressive, but spoken by a boy who looked like a feather duster – Harry could not help it, he laughed out loud.
Malfoy angrily stormed past him, and intentionally shoved him in the shoulder. However, before he disappeared behind the next corner he paused briefly and bestowed Harry with a look full of hatred. Harry ran his hand reassuringly over Duchess' soft feathers, and she nibbled affectionately at his ear. He had no doubt that he had just made an enemy.
Dedication: This chapter was mainly written for DracaDelirous, who is still faithful translating this story for me...without her, I think I wouldn't be ready yet.