Author's Note: I seriously considered toning down Harry's performance in this chapter, but on reflection I don't think it's any more extreme than in canon - the only difference is that I'm not ignoring the likely implications of such skill. I am in awe of JK Rowling's powers of imagination and storytelling, mind you, but I will note her tendency to invent things for convenience and then ignore them whenever they'd be inconvenient. See eg. Fawkes, Time-Turners, and all the other overpowered-but-overlooked elements in the series.

Edit 11/Oct/2014: Substantial rewrite to fix a plot issue - the short version is that I had Snape behaving unrealistically. With thanks to the person who forcefully pointed it out to me, and apologies that I can't remember or figure out who that was.

Edit 4/Nov/2014: Tweaked a little in response to some crit - thanks, randver.

Chapter Five: First Wednesday

The Four weren't sure what to expect in Potions the next morning, but were mentally prepared for anything short of outright war. They had spent the previous evening studying Potions instead of History - they were fairly sure they would be brewing the Forgetfulness Potion today, so they had spent hours learning everything there was to know about it. They had promised each other that they would stay calm no matter what, and had promised to restrain each other if necessary.

They arrived early, of course, chatting amiably as they waited in the otherwise-deserted corridor. Next to arrive were Draco Malfoy and his goons, which surprised no one - the Four exchanged glances, but continued their conversation. Malfoy, of course, couldn't leave it at that.

"Still determined to be a loser, Potter?" he asked.

"Sure," said Harry, "why not?"

This stumped Draco for a moment, but he rallied quickly.

"Don't you have any pride, Potter?"

Harry shrugged.

"Is pride why you keep making a fool of yourself? If so then I'm not sure I want any, thanks."

Draco sputtered incoherently, but couldn't think of anything witty to say in response. Crabbe and Goyle loomed vigorously, but the Four ignored them. After a few seconds, Harry turned to Draco.

"Draco," he said quietly, "I really don't like you. You really don't like me either, so we're definitely not going to be friends anytime soon. But do we really need to do this every time we meet? What have I done to make you care this much about me? What makes me worth this much effort?"

Harry, it should be noted, had taken some advice from Neville since the previous Potions lesson. Draco, meanwhile, said nothing. He and his friends walked a few feet down the corridor and stood awkwardly facing away from the Four as they all waited for the door to open.

"Thanks, Neville," said Harry quietly.

"No problem."

Some minutes later, the door opened.

"Enter," came Snape's voice from within. The Four did so, trailed by Draco and his friends. They all sat and waited for the rest of the class to arrive. Determined not to give Snape any excuse to punish them, the Four didn't say a word as they waited - as agreed, they just read over their notes for the Forgetfulness Potion. Snape sat behind his desk at the front of the room and said nothing.

When the rest of the class had arrived and sat down, Snape waved his wand and instructions appeared on the board. The Four had guessed correctly - it was the Forgetfulness Potion.

"Well?" said Snape. "What are you all waiting for? Get to work!"

The Four, knowing the potion and its recipe very well in advance, wasted no time - Harry and Ron fetched the ingredients and returned before any other students had even reached the cupboard, and Neville and Hermione were already waiting with their respective workstations set up. They completed the first part of the recipe for both cauldrons, and then Hermione cast a pressure spell on one of them. In their research into the Forgetfulness Potion, the Four had discovered that some Potions masters used this spell to speed up the brewing of some potions - the Forgetfulness Potion was one such potion, so they had read up on the details and then decided to test it. Since they now had quite a while to wait, they began a quiet group discussion about Potions.

Only moments later, Professor Snape swept up behind them.

"Talking, Potter? You're far too relaxed for someone who's partway through brewing a potion, even one as simple as this. Pay attention! And you, Miss Granger, exactly what spell did you just cast on a half-brewed potion?"

Harry didn't even feel anger - this was just too predictable. He didn't bother to reply.

Hermione, choosing to interpret Professor Snape's question as friendly interest, smiled slightly.

"A containment spell, Professor - some authorities claim that it allows a much shorter brewing time."

Professor Snape sneered. "It will speed many of the reactions involved, certainly, but are you really simple-minded enough to assume that everything will maintain proper balance?"

Hermione flinched, but stood tall with Harry and Ron either side of her. "I know, Professor. This is one of the most suitable potions for this technique, which is why we're testing it now."

Snape paused for a momen, then shook his head.

"Miss Granger, I am quite familiar with that spell. Its use is an unresolved dispute among Potions masters, and as such it is completely unsuitable for schoolchildren. You have barely begun your first year at Hogwarts, and the same is just as true of your classmates, all of whom you have so recklessly endangered with your hubris. Ten points from Gryffindor, each, and detention for Mr Potter as the ringleader. Evanesco."

Hermione stared at the now-empty cauldron, fighting back tears. The three boys hugged her fiercely from all sides, all bright enough not to say anything to Snape before he stalked away, and gradually Hermione calmed down.

Once Snape was out of earshot, Hermione turned to her boys and quietly asked the obvious question. "We are going to McGonagall for this, aren't we?"

The three boys all nodded, and the Four settled in to brew the remaining potion using the conventional method. Snape seemed content to ignore them, and even awarded Neville and Ron a passing grade for the remaining (perfectly-brewed) potion.

Herbology was fascinating - Professor Sprout turned out to have a real gift for her subject matter and for conveying it to her students, and the Four were rapt. Hermione had her usual advantage from having memorised the textbook before term started, but in this class she found that Neville knew even more than she did. As the lesson progressed, it became apparent that Neville could almost rival Professor Sprout herself. The Professor noticed this, and quietly asked Neville quite a few questions once the rest of the class was busy. When Neville answered all of her questions correctly, Sprout beamed and gave Gryffindor twenty points. The Four left Herbology in an excellent mood, already considering whether to talk to Professor Sprout about faster-paced study.

On their way into the Great Hall for lunch, the Four passed quite close to Professor McGonagall. Harry caught her eye as he hurried over to her.

"Professor, can we come and talk to you after lunch? More problems with Professor Snape, I'm afraid."

McGonagall's face tightened, but she nodded.

"Follow me when I leave the Hall, Mr Potter."

At the Gryffindor table, Dean and Seamus sat down near Harry.

"What was that?" said Seamus. "I mean, things seem to blow up around me all the time, but I've never seen that with you lot. What was Snape freaking out about?"

Hermione smiled thinly. "It's a fairly well-known technique for making potions brew faster by increasing the pressure. It doesn't work for everything, but from what I've read it does work reliably for the Forgetfulness Potion. This was supposed to be our first test to see if it would work for us."

Seamus nodded. "So Harry, how about that detention?"

Harry shook his head curtly. "I'm not doing it. We've arranged to talk to Professor McGonagall after lunch to talk about it."

As Professor McGonagall walked towards the doors, Harry led his friends after her. A few minutes later they were once more in her office.

"Mr Potter?" said McGonagall. "What happened?"

Harry sighed. "We were testing a minor brewing variation with one of our cauldrons - nothing original or dangerous. Professor Snape mocked Hermione, took away forty points from Gryffindor, and gave me detention because apparently I'm the ringleader. His word, not mine. Oh, and he Vanished the potion and gave me and Hermione zero."

Professor McGonagall looked thoughtfully at nothing in particular for a few seconds, then turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, is Mr Potter's summary accurate?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Very well," said McGonagall briskly, "come with me. Twice in a row is not an accident, and I will not have my students sabotaged."

As the Four followed Professor McGonagall from her office, they distinctly heard her add under her breath, "Especially given Filius' assessment."

In no time at all, it seemed, they arrived outside the Headmaster's office. The gargoyles didn't even wait for a password - they practically jumped out of the way as McGonagall approached. She walked briskly up the already-moving stairs, and knocked sharply on the door.

"Come in, Minerva," came Dumbledore's genial voice. They entered.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" said the Headmaster cheerfully.

"To Severus," said McGonagall. "These same students have come to me with much the same story as last time, except that this time it's forty points, detention for Potter, and a mark of zero for Potter and Granger."

Professor Dumbledore suddenly looked a lot less cheerful. After a moment's thought, he turned to Harry.

"Mr Potter," he said, "a simple question, if I may. You and your friends have come to me once more, and for the moment I won't waste your time or mine doubting the truth of your claims. Instead I ask you this - what exactly are you hoping that I will do?"

Harry stared at the Headmaster for a moment, then shrugged. "I just don't want to go back to that class, Professor. Could we study Potions on our own instead? I'm sure we'd do much better without Professor Snape."

Dumbledore paused, then sighed. "I don't think you fully grasp just what you are asking of me, Mr Potter. While I concede that Professor Snape has not always treated you fairly, it does not follow that you would be better served by quitting his class entirely."

Harry stared at the old man, mouth hanging open slightly. His friends exchanged glances behind his back, and silently elected Ron as the next representative.

"Professor Dumbledore," said the tiny redheaded boy, "I'm not going back to Professor Snape's class. We're not going back to Professor Snape's class. Twice is more than enough - surely you can see that. It's not going to get better."

Dumbledore stared intently at Ron, lost in thought. Ron, for his part, met the Headmaster's gaze directly - his heart might be racing, but he was too outraged to even think of backing down.

Eventually Dumbledore's eyes refocused and he addressed the diminutive rebel before him. "Yes, Godric most certainly would be proud to have you in his House. Your courage does you credit, young man."

He turned to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, what do you think? Are they ready to study by themselves?"

Minerva smiled faintly. "I've not had them in my classroom as yet, Albus, but from what Filius says I suspect that these four are quite capable of doing just that."

"What Filius says?" said Dumbledore. "What does Filius say?"

"He says they're the greatest Charms prodigies that Britain has seen in centuries, and that he expects them to perform similarly in their other subjects also."

Dumbledore sat down abruptly, seeming almost to collapse into his chair. He had known Filius Flitwick for a very long time, and the Charms Master was not an easy man to impress. For first-years to impress Filius so deeply in their first week of classes was truly staggering. He nodded slowly.

"Very well. For now, you four are excused from Potions classes. We will discuss this further once I have spoken with Professor Flitwick myself. Mr Potter's detention is of course canceled, and any House points will be restored - remind me, how many were there?"

"Forty," said Harry quietly. Dumbledore nodded.

"Forty points to Gryffindor, then."

He turned back towards Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, could you come and see me after lunch tomorrow?"

She nodded, and he turned to the students.

"You four I'd like to see back here tomorrow after dinner. Minerva, I'd like you to be here for that also. Filius will probably be here, and possibly Pomona. We shall have much to discuss, I suspect."

As Minerva McGonagall led the four first-years away from the Headmaster's office, she hesitated a moment but asked anyway.

"Strictly off the record, Mr Potter, but can you think of any reason why Professor Snape might hate you so much? I ask because I have never seen such malice in him before."

Harry shrugged. "No idea, sorry Professor. I mean I expected him to be nasty to me as a Gryffindor, everyone told me that, but I didn't expect him to have anything against me personally. I have no idea. Do you have any idea, Professor?"

Minerva sighed.

"I know of nothing beyond a schoolboy grudge against your father - if that truly is the cause, then I shall be most disappointed in Severus."

"He went to school with my dad?"

"Yes, Mr Potter. Severus and your father, and your mother for that matter, were in the same school year."

Beyond that she would say nothing, so the Four took their leave and went to their room to study Potions until it was time for Flying.

3:15 found the Four scampering down the front steps of the castle, eager for their first flying lesson. Hermione and Neville were actually a bit nervous, but neither of them would admit it, so they let themselves be swept away on Ron and Harry's enthusiasm. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they ran down the hill towards a smooth, flat lawn with broomsticks laid out across it. Once there, the Four chatted amiably as they waited for their classmates and their teacher to arrive.

Madam Hooch arrived not long after the Four, and seemed surprised to see students there already.

"Well, you lot are keen! You'll still have to wait for the proper time, though."

They nodded absently before returning to their conversation, leaving Madam Hooch rather puzzled - these kids really weren't acting like kids, and she wasn't sure what to make of them. She busied herself inspecting the twenty brooms laid out on the ground, keeping half an ear on the conversation going on behind her, noticing that it seemed awfully heavy on schoolwork. In fact, it seemed to cover a good deal more schoolwork than they could possibly have learned in less than a week - she gave a mental shrug and concentrated on the brooms, deciding that it wasn't her concern anyway.

Just before the half-hour, the other students all showed up, almost all together. As soon as they were all on the lawn, she raised her voice.

"OK, everyone stand beside a broom - you want the broom on your right-hand side."

The students scattered to obey, though the Four just stepped over to the brooms they'd been standing near to the whole time.

"OK," said Madam Hooch loudly, "stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"

The students all did so, with somewhat mixed results. The Four, having already gained a great deal of confidence from their work together, had no trouble at all - their brooms leapt eagerly to their hands. Hermione looked a bit surprised at this, but gave a tiny shrug and held the broom steady in midair. Madam Hooch walked around helping the other students with their brooms until everyone had managed it and making sure everyone's grip was correct, and then walked back to the edge of the lawn.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she said. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. Make sure you sit far enough forward - if your weight gets too far back, your broomstick will rise out of control. And we don't want that, do we?"

Harry was the first off the ground, though the other three were only a second behind him. He touched back down almost immediately, seeming faintly reluctant as he stepped off his broom. He glanced around at his classmates, just in time to see his fellow Gryffindor Parvati Patil finally and gingerly leave the ground. Moved by an odd instinct that he didn't think to question, Harry absently swung his leg back over his broomstick. A moment later he realised that Parvati was drifting upwards without meaning to, accelerating gradually as her face turned to panic. He pushed off hard and flew over to her rapidly and surely, grabbing the front of her broomstick and pulling it downward. The two of them were suddenly dropping quite rapidly towards the ground, but Harry slowed them both to land softly. Parvati, eyes wide and breath rapid, tumbled limply off her broomstick to lie trembling on the ground. Harry saw her friend Lavender Brown walking over to her, so he kicked off again without a second thought. The incident had completely driven from his mind the fact that they were in a lesson - he wasn't even aware of his close friends standing across the other side of the lawn from him. Instead he was lost in the joy of flight, and he gave himself to it. Soaring high above his classmates, he swooped and soared effortlessly for the sheer fun of it. When he became aware that he might be testing the limits of the broomstick's performance, he considered going lower so as to have a shorter distance to fall, but after a moment's pause he decided against it - after all, from up here he could probably get it under control again before he hit the ground. Hopefully. And so he twisted and turned, exulting in the freedom and the power it gave him. By now he had completely forgotten about his friends and his other classmates below, let alone his instructor.

Nearer the ground, meanwhile, Parvati was sitting quietly with Lavender while the rest of the class flew cautiously. Madam Hooch didn't appear to have noticed either Harry's rescue of Parvati or his disappearance, and seemed unaware that she was missing a student. Hermione shot the occasional anxious glance skyward, and Ron the occasional envious one, but no one beyond them and Neville noticed anything amiss. Finally, Madam Hooch seemed satisfied with them all.
"OK, you're all cleared to spread out and stretch your wings a little. Be careful, and stay well clear of each other, but otherwise just have fun!"

At that, Harry's friends rose high in the air in search of their errant friend. They found him a remarkably long way up, far higher than the highest turrets and towers of Hogwarts Castle. He was still ducking and weaving in the air, exulting in the sheer joy of flying. He slowed down and steadied his broom as his friends approached him, and listened as Ron spoke.

"Blimey, Harry, you're a natural! I've never seen anyone fly like that except for professional Quidditch players."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably, still ill at ease with being singled out. "It just feels good. I dunno, somehow I just feel right doing this. I just know what I'm doing."

He threw himself backwards suddenly, flipping over and flying his broom directly at the ground at ridiculous speed. Ron especially was gobsmacked by this, since he knew that a rickety old Shooting Star shouldn't be able to do that. As he recovered himself and pushed his own broom into a dive, he saw Harry gracefully pull out of the insane dive, feet barely clearing the neat lawn before he began to rise again. Ron shook his head in disbelief as he descended at a much safer pace.

Madam Hooch, meanwhile, had finally noticed Harry's flying. Seated now astride her own broomstick, she flew over to where he was hovering waiting for his friends.

"Mr... Potter, isn't it?"

Harry nodded.

"Where the hell did you learn to fly like that, young man?"

Harry shrugged awkwardly.

"Right here, Madam Hooch. I'd never even seen a broomstick fly before this afternoon."

She stared at him in frank disbelief, and after a moment he went on.

"It just somehow feels right, Madam Hooch - it feels like somehow I just know what to do. I did spend most of the lesson way up high testing everything, though, and I promise that I wouldn't have done a dive like that before I'd tested exactly what this broom can and can't do."

Rolanda Hooch actually laughed.

"I've taught this class for a very long time, Mr Potter, and I've taught it using these particular brooms for decades now. I've flown that exact broomstick you're sitting on right now, put it through its paces and tested exactly what it could and couldn't do, and I would have bet Galleons against knuts that it absolutely could not do what you just made it do. You have an extraordinary gift for flying - I don't know that I've ever seen anything quite like it."

She paused. "I wonder... Accio prototype!"

Her wand had instantly appeared in her hand, and Harry had felt the sheer power behind that spell. Hermione would have recognised it, but Harry merely looked confused.

"A Summoning Charm, Mr Potter - I have a broomstick that I'd like to see you try but I couldn't leave the class to go get it in person, so I'm Summoning it instead. It'll be here in a moment."

Harry glanced around wide-eyed, spotting the broom as it zoomed towards them. He turned back to Madam Hooch.

"Madam Hooch, what is this broom?"

"It's a prototype that was given to me for testing some months ago," she said as she caught the unlabeled but elegant broomstick. "It may yet develop a drag after a few years like its predecessors have tended to, but right now it's probably about the best broom in the world - only something like my old Silver Arrow could have beaten it, and I don't think anyone still has one of those in proper working order. Try this, Mr Potter - find out what it can do, while I stay here and watch you through these Omnioculars. Oh, and please stay well clear of your classmates."

Harry shrugged, vaulted onto this new broomstick and took off sharply. He felt the power immediately, that tight feeling of infinite potential coiled up in this oddly-shaped piece of wood. He went high, very high, rising to his former height as fast as the broom could manage. Far below, unseen, Rolanda Hooch adjusted her Omnioculars and watched intently as Harry began to put this new broom through its paces. It seemed to Harry to respond to his thought more than his touch, and it was far nimbler than the other broom. He had to work quite hard to find the limits of its manoeuvrability, but he found them. He knew its climbing already, but opened up and pushed to find how fast it could fly on the level. Having established that, he dropped abruptly into a full-power dive - he descended terrifyingly fast, shedding tremendous height in a matter of seconds, before pulling out of the dive so late that his feet actually brushed the short grass for a moment. Not for the first time, it occurred to Rolanda that the boy seemed to lack the very concept of fear. She consciously brought her breathing under control as he approached her once more.

Harry Potter was grinning like a loon, sheer transcendent joy shining through brightly.

"That was amazing! I love this broom!"

Rolanda grinned, suddenly reminded of her younger self.

"That's a prototype for the newly-released Nimbus Two Thousand, Mr Potter. As I said, I was sent it for testing. I'm a very good flier, you see, and the Nimbus Corporation sent this to me because there are very few people in the world who are better than me at broomstick test flying. As of today, young man, there's one more - I can tell you right now that this broomstick didn't perform nearly so well for me, and I'm not sure there's a single flier in the world who could stay with you when you're flying hard like just now."

Harry goggled at her, failing even to notice his three friends doing likewise from a short distance away.

"I'm really that good?" he asked disbelievingly.

"You're really that good," she said emphatically. "If you'll give me permission to show them the recording from these Omnioculars, I'm quite sure that my friends at Nimbus would love to send you all their prototypes for testing. Would you like that?"

Harry grinned and nodded vigorously, not trusting himself to speak. Behind him Ron stared slack-jawed, while Hermione and Neville merely looked surprised.

"Excellent," said Madam Hooch. "I'll contact them this evening, and hopefully you'll have a prototype of your own before next week's lesson. Meanwhile, it's getting late and we don't want to be late for dinner."

She blew her whistle loudly, and the farther-flung members of the class began to drift back in. When they were all standing on the lawn together, she smiled warmly.

"Excellent work, all of you. I'll see you all next week, though I'm happy to see any of you individually before then if you want to ask me anything. Now, off to dinner!"

The Four centred on Harry as they walked towards the castle. Ron in particular was tremendously excited.

"Bloody hell Harry, where'd you learn to fly like that? My brother Charlie can't fly like that, and he was Gryffindor's best Seeker in ages."

Harry shrugged helplessly. "It just seems obvious, I guess, how to move and all. I mean, it took me a while to get used to it the first time on the Shooting Star, but once I got the hang of it it was easy. And on that prototype, it's like the thing could read my mind - as long as I knew what I wanted to do, it just happened."

"Brilliant! Can you teach me to fly like that? And when they send you prototypes, do you think I could have a go?"

Before Harry could respond, Madam Hooch cut in - apparently she'd hurried to catch up to them.

"That's actually not a bad idea, Mr Weasley - Mr Potter here is frankly astonishing at testing the absolute limits of what a broomstick can truly do, but I suspect that the makers would quite like to see how the same prototypes handle under a more normal flier. I know your brothers, and I know there's no way that today was your first flight - you're a good flier for your age, probably a pretty good test subject for students in general, and I'm sure that would be useful. I'll need to watch Mr Potter with my Omnioculars anyway, and it's hardly any extra trouble to do that for two sets of tests every time. No promises, mind you, but I'll ask when I talk to them tonight."

Ron grinned, shouted with joy, and suddenly gave Madam Hooch a big hug. She bore it well enough, a small smile betraying her amusement.

"Careful, Mr Weasley - you might slip and find yourself hugging my friend Minerva instead - courageous lion or no, I doubt you've the stones for that."

Ron blushed, but he was still smiling.

Hermione spoke up hesitantly.

"Madam Hooch, would it be helpful to see me fly the prototypes as well? I'm not really much of a flier, but I do want to be here for Harry and Ron anyway and I feel like I might as well be some use."

"Me too," said Neville quietly.

Madam Hooch shrugged.

"I have no idea what they'll say to that, but I'll ask them. They might go for it just for the sake of getting a variety of tests with just one prototype and one set of security risks, but I really can't say for sure."

They parted ways as they entered the Great Hall, the Four sitting way down one end of the Gryffindor table away from their fellow first-years. None of them really wanted to deal with that right now. They just wanted to sit quietly and eat their dinner, so they did - for once, they didn't even talk amongst themselves.

Wednesday was their long day, with Astronomy still to come at midnight. The Four gathered at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower at quarter to, having done Astronomy study and taken a nap in preparation.

They quite liked Professor Sinistra, a serious-seeming lady who appeared to know her subject very thoroughly. By the end of the lesson, however, each of the Four was individually wondering whether they had any real use for this subject. It was slightly interesting, certainly, but they couldn't imagine any real benefit from knowing the subject matter. As they walked back to the Gryffindor tower after their lesson, Ron asked the question.

"Um... Guys, do we actually want to study Astronomy? I mean, if we're going to do our own study and all, do you think they might let us drop it? I know nothing bad happens if you don't get an OWL for Astronomy - my brother Charlie didn't, and no one cared."

"I agree," said Hermione, surprising the boys who thought they knew her. "I've memorised the textbook, remember, so I know there's nothing in there that we really need to know. Honestly, I think we probably do have better things to do with our time. Professor McGonagall will probably see it our way, too - I know Professor Flitwick will. And taking this late night out of our schedules will make a big difference - sleep is important, especially if you're trying to learn new things."

Finally able to let their minds relax and go fuzzy, the Four stumbled to bed. They were all very glad that they'd decided not to train the morning after a midnight class - they'd need the sleep.