Chapter Nine

"Potter, Harry."

The door burst open and in came a small stocky boy, clutching his school bag tightly. He walked to the front of the class and looked around. "Am I late?"

The scroll which hovered in front of the diminutive professor rolled shut and fell on top of the large untidy desk. "That depends." Professor Flitwick said and tried to step down the pile of books on which he stood, his arms flailing about as the books shook from the sudden movement. He jerked his wand and the shaking stopped. Sighing in relief, he finally settled his feet on the floor and crossed his arms. "Well?"

"I was just released from the Hospital Wing?" The boy asked and looked up, his eyes half-hidden by long dark bangs which had grown since the past year. Harry wanted to look the part of the twin and had let his cropped hair grow, even if it was a constant nuisance. He knew it was vital though; not knowing how his brother would look, he had to rely on the image of his father who was supposed to look a lot like the two brothers. If they did not recognize him as the long lost twin, there would be no way that Harry could keep an eye on his brother and attend Hogwarts which was important to his education.

"Mr. Potter!"

He blinked. "Pardon?" He had gotten lost in his thoughts again, a habit he didn't wish to cultivate.

The professor let out a sigh and shook his head. "I was asking you how you came to be in that sort of situation."

Harry blinked again. He gave the professor a cheeky grin and said, "Ask Professor Dumbledore. It was his fault I was there in the first place." Not waiting for the professor's reply, Harry whistled a jaunty tune and sat at the only place available. The bushy-haired Ravenclaw who was seated besides him, gaped.

"You're joking, right?" The girl whispered loudly, making it hard for everyone else to not hear what she said.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and climbed on top of the stack of books, speaking in his best professor voice as he did so. "Charms is the very foundation of wizardry. Without it, we would not have half the number of spells we have today." With a twitch of his wand, the scroll flapped open. "And being late in my class is inexcusable. I will only let you go on the premise that I have been informed that the Headmaster did wish to speak to you…and the fact that today is the first day of class."

(Is he always this harsh, Master Hat?) Harry inquired, adopting the nickname his Guardians used for the old battered hat. The professor called out his name again to which he replied with a wave of his hand. Maverick who was sitting two rows away raised his hand once his name had been called. Names were called as Harry waited for the hat's answer.

(Not always, Harry. He's always been a good professor and very approachable from what I hear. He also has considerable potential for the status of Deputy Headmaster if Albus ever wished to retire and Professor McGonagall took over. This, I doubt, would happen anytime soon though.)

The image of the tiny professor walking down the hallway, carrying a large neon sign which flashed Deputy Headmaster to every passing student almost made Harry burst into laughter. Almost.

"Something funny, Potter?" The girl was looking at him suspiciously. It must be because of the silly grin planted on his face.

He adopted a more serious expression and shook his head in denial. "No. I'm just happy to be learning." He whispered back. "And don't say things too loudly; you're attracting us too much attention."

The girl blushed and shifted her gaze towards the white feather which rested on top of their desk. Mumbling something along the lines of an apology, she went back to watching the professor with absolute interest.

(That was not a very good image, Harry.) The hat admonished the boy. (I am quite serious when I say that Professor Flitwick is a good teacher. Just because he gave you the wrong impression does not mean that you can just go about making fun of him. Even if it was only a thought.)

(Sorry.) The boy said, trying to sound the part and failing miserably. He knew not to expect an answer from the hat so he went back to listening to the professor who seemed to be in a better mood.

"Charms is every bit as complicated as transfiguring live animals into inanimate objects or brewing potions which can regrow one's bones. In my class, not only do I teach you spells which will be useful in your daily lives, but I will also teach you the theory behind the magic to better understand the spell's workings. Other classes will cover this as well but not to the extent that you will receive from me."

One of the students, a Ravenclaw from the necktie he wore, asked, "So you're saying that if we can understand how it works it would give us a higher percentage to cast the spell correctly?"

"Yes. Do not be disheartened though if you do not understand the material—although I doubt any of you would have any problems—as I am available after classes for some extra help."

Professor Flitwick then began talking about Levitation Charm; he spoke a bit of its background history, how it differed from spells of the same family, the wand movements, spell pronunciation, and even gave examples of situations where the Levitation Charm would come in handy. By the time the lecture had ended and the students were prompted to try out the spell, Harry had to admit that the man was indeed likable. There was something about the way he would say everything so eagerly that made Harry want to learn more then ever. Maybe being a bookworm was infectious here.

"Aren't you going to try out the spell?" The girl asked impatiently. She was looking at Harry with her arms crossed and her nose up high.

"Ladies first?" Harry said in reply and shrugged. He wanted to see how the other students did first before making his own attempt at having the feather float. The girl did as their professor demonstrated, swishing her wand this way and flicking it like that. Her intonations were perfect and sounded eerily alike the professor's. The feather floated.

"Very good, Ms. Granger," the professor chirped. "Five points to Ravenclaw for being the first to perform the spell correctly." Light applause came from the other Ravenclaws, all who seemed delighted at the prospect of a few points.

Once the professor had gone to another student for help, Harry took a deep breath and did just as the Granger girl had done. Instead of making the feather float, nothing had happened. "Wingardium Leviosa." He repeated, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Your execution of the spell is perfect." Granger said, her expression matching Harry's. "So why isn't it working?"

"Hey, don't ask me." Harry grumbled. (Did the old coot do something to me?)

(Professor Snape had arrived shortly after you had become unconscious so I don't believe the headmaster would have any time to place such a spell on you.) Quezacoatl answered.

(Anyway, he doesn't really have any reason to.) Harry thought.

(Agreed.)

"Professor Flitwick!" Granger said and waved her hand furiously. "We need your help."

Harry could have smacked her for being so loud. He groaned instead, and ignored the curious faces which were staring at him. No, there was no use attracting more attention.

"Yes, Ms. Granger? Is there a problem?"

Granger stabbed her elbow against Harry's ribs, almost causing the boy to jump out of his seat. Rubbing his aching side, he gave the girl a glare before explaining to the professor, "I can't make the feather float."

"But he does the movements like it should be." Granger added, seemingly oblivious to Harry's venomous looks.

"Maybe he's a Squib," Draco—no, Malfoy shouted and laughed. Some snickered at his comment while others simply ignored him. Harry thanked whoever was listening that the Ravenclaws were far too serious with their studies to laugh at a struggling student. He also felt grateful at the fact that his Slytherin friends—the ones who weren't currently hanging with Malfoy—did not laugh as well.

Professor Flitwick made a displeased squeak and looked at Harry expectantly. "Please do the spell again, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded and did as he was told, concentrating as hard as he could. Nothing happened. From the professor's deathly pale expression, Harry knew that things did not bode well.

Gripping the desk tightly, he whispered in a solemn voice, "Come here when all your classes are finished. I need to talk to you in private concerning your…magical core."

"Am I really a Squib?"

The small man shook his head. "But there is something that prevents you from spellcasting correctly. We will try to cure that. In the meantime, you two can go and read ahead. You may also start on the homework." He cleared his throat and said, "I need an essay on the history of the Levitation Charm and how it was developed. Since this is your first day, I will not ask for a required length. Just make sure that it isn't three sentences long. Or four for that matter." Harry heard the professor mutter.

Harry took out his book for Charms and stared at it for a moment. He had no time during the summer to go through his books—focusing instead on strengthening his mental shields—so he had felt some doubt when the spell did not work for him. His eyes scanned the contents of the first chapter, unaware that a certain bushy-haired girl was staring at him. By the time he had finished the first chapter, a task that had not taken him longer than five minutes—he was a fast reader, partly due to Simon's influence—Granger seemed ready to burst from her questions.

"Why do you think the spell didn't work? What was that about your magical core? How far have you read the textbook? Have you read Hogwarts, A History? That book is really great! It's about—"

"You do know that by speaking so quickly, I would not be able to answer your questions properly." Harry pointed out. This quickly shushed the girl down but from her smoldering glare, Harry knew that there was no way he could get out of the girl's questionings.

Which is why he was relieved when he heard the sound of the Hogwarts bell, signaling the end of class. He stuffed his things inside the bag he carried and jumped on top of the table, realizing only too late that he had once again drawn unnecessary attention to himself. At least I didn't try flipping. Harry thought as he dashed out of the other students' way, running to his next class. He slowed after some time and waited for Theodore and Daphne who were having a heated debated on the issue of Defense which they had just before lunch. He listened to them in silence as they made their way to the next class.

History was not taught by a ghost as it had been years before. Now, it was taught by a woman in her mid-forties with graying hair and a pair of sharp eagle-like eyes. She had introduced herself as Professor Greyhart once the group of Slytherin students had taken their places around the classroom and, with a snap of her wand, made pieces of parchment fly towards each student. It was a map of Hogwarts; she explained and went through the maps simple features briskly. Since they were to study about the history of Hogwarts for their first year—there had been a change of curriculum—she felt that a map would help them greatly during the course of the school year.

What was…strange about this woman were the features she had. Harry, after careful scrutiny, had realized that she shared certain physical characteristics with another member of the Hogwarts staff. Daphne, who seemed to be good with connecting things, asked if she was related to Madam Hooch, their would-be instructor for flying. The professor answered the question with a bit of enthusiasm, saying that the woman was indeed her younger sister. Hooch, it seemed, was her actual maiden name.

This opened an opportunity for the Slytherins to ask her all sorts of questions. Slytherins, as was common knowledge, often liked to use any information acquired for bettering themselves and Harry knew that some of the students were asking her, not because of curiosity, but because they wanted to be able to use some of the information later on. Professor Greyhart didn't mind though but refused to answer some of the more personal questions. After a while, Professor Greyhart asked them to stop their barrage of questions and had each student talk in front of class about themselves. May as well get to know you people, she had said.

Everyone complied—although some, grudgingly—and each took a turn to speak in front of the class. Harry paid close attention in true Slytherin fashion and made mental notes of these Slytherin classmates of his. When it was his turn to speak, he made his introduction clear but brief. He didn't like speaking in the spotlight, especially with so many people watching. Not only that, but he might let slip a clue that could reveal his secrets.

The bell had rung a couple of minutes after the last person had spoken, given Professor Greyhart just enough time to give them some homework. She didn't seem to mind that they had lost some class time but, by giving them some reading material, she assured them that it would be of no difficulty to have them catch up with the other houses.

Herbology was taught by a squat little witch wearing a pair of gardening gloves, a forest green cloak and a matching hat. She had a motherly image about her that made any student like her almost instantly. She was a lot like Professor Flitwick; both were enthusiastic at teaching and both seemed easily approachable, which was the only good thing about Herbology, in Harry's opinion. Because of his studies with Donovan, their instructor, he had a problem with identifying plants. Although some of the plants he saw were similar to the ones he had learned in Balamb Garden, these plants had different magical properties, making it hard for Harry to determine which properties were which. The Abyssinian shrivelfig—a plant they were to learn in their second-year—for example, looked a lot like a Horned Moonwort which was common in areas near Dollet. Both shared the same leaf shape and color—a light blue that reminded Harry of water in its crystal clear form. The Abyssinian shrivelfig though was used as an ingredient for a shrinking potion while the Horned Moonwort was used to subside a Break spell's effects.

Before she got them working on a plant, she named a couple of basic rules which the Slytherins had to obey at all times. Since these Slytherins were mostly from pureblooded families, they already had an idea of how dangerous plants could be. It was part of a Slytherin's nature to question the rules and find ways to work around them but with such rules that could potentially endanger their lives if broken, the Slytherins paid careful heed of Professor Sprout's warnings.

Harry found himself paired with Daphne for the remainder of the school year and was quite relieved by this. She did not seem inclined to follow Malfoy's lead as others had done. Besides her, Theodore was the only one who hung out with Harry and the boy knew that Theodore was a social creature who liked speaking with various people. If Malfoy somehow forced the other Slytherins to stop talking to the three, at least Theodore wouldn't get so bored with speaking to only one person.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted as Daphne gave him a poke. As it turned out, she wanted to know why Harry was missing for most of the morning and Harry answered her quickly, leaving out the Hat's sudden decision to inhabit his mind. The young girl was outraged by the headmaster's actions and had almost cut the wrong part of the plant they had to prune. A spell like that, Daphne said, was bordering on illegal and should not be used against a student. Her mother was part of the board and Daphne insisted that the only way to stop the headmaster from doing such a terrible thing again was if Harry had reported his actions to the board. Daphne swore that Harry's story would be heard even if it meant talking to her mother personally. Harry wasn't so sure if this was a good thing and was about to tell Daphne so when the bell had rung. The girl quickly disappeared into the crowd with a brief goodbye, shouting as she ran that she was going to speak with her mother. As to how she would do this, Harry did not know.

What he did know was that he was going to be late for his appointment with Professor Flitwick if he didn't hurry.

A/N: For those who don't know, a Break spell is a spell used to turn someone into stone. That said, I'm terribly sorry. If the chapter confused you, it was all my fault. My brain wasn't functioning properly when I wrote this. Plus, I'm trying to write two fics at once and that only makes my brain hate me more than ever.

Hopefully, Greyhart is the last OC I make (for a while anyway...).